Chapter 86 - 3-4

Chapter 3: GHOST! Well, Close Enough, Anyway

Tuesday September 4th, 

3:35 pm

Toru's feet were starting to hurt so much it set the girl's eyes to watering. Tear tracks started on wind-bitten cheeks but were quickly wiped off.

At least she'd made it to the edge of town.

Grey and taupe buildings of western-style architecture closed in. Most were one to two stories tall and had a distinctly residential feel.

A violent shiver wracked Hagakure's body as she traversed a shadow cast by a rather tall apartment complex. The sunless section coveted the girl's heat like some jealous yuki-onna.

Coming to a stoplight at the end of the first block, Toru surveyed the area as a blue Prius passed on the left. A glowing white stick figure lit up on the far side of the street and the invisible girl crossed at a set of painted white lines.

Casting a curious glance at an excessively large truck parked at the side of the road, a flicker of resigned dread teased at the Japanese teen's mind. She'd only ever seen such large vehicles in satirical depictions of the United States.

Movement at the girl's periphery had her looking back to the sidewalk. Two people approached from the opposite direction, Hagakure's first encounter since dropping through the portal. Heart rate speeding up, she side-stepped quietly then held still longer than was strictly necessary. The duo passed, ignorant of several red smudges that decorated the cement at even intervals.

Toru's feet weren't bleeding a lot. Just enough to make her nervous about being noticed.

When the pair remained oblivious, laughing and openly holding hands in public, Toru let out a breath. Then sharply inhaled when the woman spoke. It was not only in English, but it was fast. 

"So are you free Saturday night? I heard the mall here carries Halloween stuff all year long because of 'ghost attacks'."

Toru could tell the tone was lighthearted, but the guy stiffened a bit. An awkward laugh blended in discord with the girl's carefree one as they drew further away.

"Yeah...there are some really….kooky people here in Amity Park." The man avoided his date's gaze as the two made their way to the truck Hagakure had just marveled at. The insignia across the front grill read R-A-M.

Okay. So it was confirmed. It wasn't just the signs; this town was English-centric.

And unless there was a magic way to slow everyone's words down, the conversational skills Toru had learned in school were a moot point.

Which meant she was much worse off than originally believed.

Mind racing, the UA student continued to vacate the suburbs, ambling toward the city's heart.

Hagakure passed recessed doors framed by large picture windows. Beyond the glass, clothes and other odd items were displayed. There wasn't anything wrong with them, per say, they just felt….off.

It was in passing the sixth storefront Toru finally figured out what bothered her so much. The mannequins on display all had exactly two arms and two legs, and the technological items seemed almost….old.

This town was strange. How could so many shops afford to exclude people with mutation quirks from their clientele?

Spotting a bald, middle aged man wandering into one of the stores, Hagakure put on a burst of speed. The young woman jumped through the door before it could close, but misjudged the size of the man's portly stomach. The close quarters had Toru teetering awkwardly as she barely avoided knocking elbows with the poor guy.

Not that he knew the difference.

The warm air nearly made Hagakure dizzy with relief when the teen made it inside and righted herself. Leaving the entryway, the invisible girl mentally praised her quirk as she settled between exhibits of…..model trains? Then, surprisingly, her shivering increased threefold.

Unable to think past the heat slowly suffusing frozen muscles, Toru just listened to the man behind the counter speak animatedly with his equally enthusiastic client. A lot of gesturing occurred which seemed to center around one particular box of goodies.

The exhausted teen let the gibberish of the two's conversation pass by, strangely comforted by the hobbyists. Eyes wandering, Toru relaxed further when she noticed a tuft of brown poking from the customer's back. The baby blue dress shirt couldn't contain all of the man's mutation, and the small patch reached for freedom from beyond the collar. Hagakure entertained the idea of a hedgehog-based quirk, but discarded the belief after moving closer. The texture was more like fur than quills.

No longer shaking, Toru watched the animal guy leave with a railroad box-set tucked under one arm and a bright smile on his goatee'd face. A bell chimed as the mostly glass door shut.

Shoot.

There'd be no leaving until another customer came. Which, admittedly, wasn't so bad. Avoiding hypothermia was on the top of the to-do list until a solution to the no clothes situation could be improvised. At least getting in here had been super easy. Hard to argue with good luck. A pleased feeling forced an optimistic smile onto Toru's face.

Now that she wasn't imitating an ice sculpture, it was so much easier to focus.

Okay. It didn't seem like the people around here were particularly evil. Hagakure doubted this was a villainous city filled with awkward dates and miniature locomotive fans. But it was an English one. Going to the police might not be a bad idea at this point, but that meant she'd have to find a police box and somehow explain the situation.

Since it was already getting later in the day, it made sense to prioritize getting clothed and scouting a place to sleep. Or maybe even finding a map and a local hero agency if she could swing it. It'd be hard without being able to talk to any civilians; but she knew nothing about her kidnapper and being in a populated place did not guarantee her safety. Midoriya's encounter with Shigaraki at the Kiyashi Ward shopping mall proved that.

Now, clothes.

Dumpsters sometimes had them! But there was a time crunch...and outerwear did no good if it was sopping wet or covered in mold spores. That was actually a terrible idea, the more she thought about it.

...a homeless shelter? Without being able to read or talk to anyone it would be really hard to find. Pilfering the donated clothes section seemed like a pipe dream, even if it was an appealing option.

Raid someone's closet. The thought of going into a private home instantly made Toru squeamish and the hero-in-training shifted awkwardly. Definitely a last resort measure.

Balconies with drying, unguarded linens? No, they didn't seem to be particularly popular around here. The apartment complexes were mostly fronted by slabs of concrete and plain skyscraper-esque windows, the hallways to access them hidden inside.

Okay, that left taking from a store as the most plausible thing to do.

...Unless she could somehow make her own clothes from materials in the forest...? Imagining a giant centipede crawling up her back, the teen immediately discarded the idea and nuked it with napalm.

In fact, all vague plans involving camping out in the woods went up in smoke by proxy.

Hagakure scanned outside the hobby shop at a flicker of movement, mind still reeling. The only thing in view was not a hundred-legged nightmare, but a person. Pale blue face a mask of disinterest, the bat-winged human floated harmlessly by. Still, the sight caused Toru's mouth to pop open of its own accord. The person hadn't been in costume.

Were the laws here so lax that quirk usage was allowed in public? Even America had licensed heroes.

Where on earth could she be?

Staring too hard out the window, Toru missed when the cashier's shoulders sagged and his whitened grip unclenched from the counter.

Several more people passed, but still no customers entered the model train store. Waiting with growing impatience, the bubbly teen's thoughts strayed to things she'd actively been ignoring.

Why was she here? Why didn't the kidnapper attack? What was the fight about when she arrived? Had a hero saved her? Or maybe she hadn't been ambushed because she wasn't the intended target. Or the villain had wanted to recruit her like how the League had tried to entice Bakugo.

The spiral stalled at that last idea, kicking Hagakure out of the anxious flurry of thoughts that beat like trapped pigeons at the inside of her head. It just didn't seem...right. Bakugo had been violent, aggressive. The perfect candidate. Toru Hagakure was a happy-go-lucky girl that, if anything, came across as preppy.

Ding-ding.

Startled, the UA student lunged for the door, battle instinct kicking in when her mind screamed to MOVE.

A chill breeze tickled bare skin. She was outside.

Huh.

Determined not to lose extra heat Toru started jogging, tagging a few boutiques mentally while ignoring the sting of unshod feet. If a second-hand shop didn't show up in the next few blocks, she'd return.

Toru slowed and lightly walked around a pedestrian. It happened a few more times, but was getting less and less stressful as the minutes went on. With things working out so well, it was hard not to draw parallels to some kind of top-secret espionage mission.

Just as the teen was about to call it and head back, an ideal candidate for the heist came into view.

Ducking into the place behind three people, the invisible girl immediately swerved right to follow them down a flight of stairs. It seemed the displays were backed by some kind of live-in flat on the first floor, while the outlet hunkered below.

Stepping down into the store, mental alarm bells were set to ringing. The inside was significantly more popular than the train shop and the teen's new evasive skills got tested immediately as she had to practically dance out of a woman's way on lithe feet.

Tiptoeing into a side aisle between rows of hangered clothes, Toru picked a careful path avoiding the Bargain Basement's customers. She pulled nothing from the metal racks just yet, debating on how to get any selections out of the store without being seen. It wasn't like they could be willed into invisibility.

Surveying the shop again, Toru noticed a small handwritten sign taped to a glass display that doubled as a check stand. Nearly antique jewelry peeked coyly from behind the laminated paper that held five colored dots corresponding to percentages. Red was highest at 70, while yellow sat at a lowly 20.

Covertly checking a few tags to confirm her suspicions, Hagakure set about finding not only the warmest but the cheapest red-stickied items.

At least the prices could be read. Numbers were the same in both Japanese and English. As a hero in training, there was no way Toru wasn't going to pay the owners back later. She'd even save the tags for an accurate total.

Along the back wall there were nearly fifty tiered cubbies full of shoes and a bin containing socks. Most of the footwear was well-worn, but the socks were brand new. Hagakure found it hard to mind the splurge, imagining soft fabric on stinging and aching feet. Checking over a shoulder for looky-loos, the girl grabbed a pair of the fuzzy tubes and tossed them down the back aisle. Following the socks' path, the chilled female walked along the wall, browsing for thick, warm shoes.

Constant English chatter came from the rest of the shop, but tuning it out was becoming second nature.

The teen grabbed the tops of a pair of fur-lined hiking boots. Taking a quick look around, Toru made sure there was no surveillance—human or otherwise—before yanking them off the shelf and setting them as quietly as possible on the floor.

A woman walked past a perpendicular aisle in view of the suspicious activity, prompting Hagakure to let go. When the lady moved on from the end of the row of sweaters, the invisible teen unlaced the boots, only stalling two more times when a shoulder came into view.

Still vigilant, Toru picked up the socks she'd chucked onto the floor earlier. She stuffed them into the first hiking shoe like a present into a Christmas stocking, then shoved her foot into the second one to test the fit.

The hidden female froze, half-shod, as a stupidly fast guy practically power-walked into the space and examined a pair of loafers. Lifting them up, the young man took a perfunctory sniff of the air overtop, then put them back with a mild shake of the head and a scrunched up nose.

Hagakure held her breath at the brunet's claustrophobia-inducing nearness before the dude pivoted and stepped straight toward her.

The internal panic was instant. If Toru moved, the boot would move. But to stay still was a sure-fire collision path. She couldn't let him touch her.

Limbo may have been an option had the thief thought of it but instead she bolted, feet thumping loudly against the floor. Grabbing the other boot in passing, Hagakure dodged the human obstacle that'd spooked her.

The young man covered a shaggy face in defense of the suddenly audible yet unseen stampede.

"GHOST!"

It wasn't long before the entire shop was yelling the strange English word in the same way a civilian might scream "villain". Shoppers and employees alike fled in terror.

Cover blown, Toru zipped around the shop, grabbed everything she'd scoped out earlier and made a break for it up the stairs.

A gangly sweatpant leg fell out from the wad of clothing and landed beneath her non-booted foot. The fleece-lined tripping hazard nearly caused a tumble and a bra dislodged from the pile. Flailing, the conglomerate of apparel threw the door open and dashed down the sidewalk.

Expecting to have to sidestep pedestrians, Hagakure was bewildered when everyone ran. Not a single person stayed to watch a hero detain her.

Taking the blessing, the thrift store raider sprinted down another five blocks, only crossing a street if a crosswalk was ready. Otherwise, the girl would turn the corner and sprint down the side road.

Breathing hard and worried about losing more than just underwear, Toru ducked into an alleyway. She expected a dead end, but instead saw it let out into some kind of parking lot access.

Hiding behind a dumpster that smelled of rancid tomatoes and mold, the exhausted girl opened her hand. The spare boot not currently on her foot fell to the floor, allowing tired arms to lose some of their burden. Flexing a cramped wrist while still hugging the clothes Toru looked around, listening hard for the inevitable chase of a hero.

Several minutes of inactivity passed. While the lack of any agency's immediate response was troubling, it was hard to be upset.

Dropping her bundle onto a relatively dry, if not entirely clean spot, the teen got dressed.

Looking around more closely, Toru spotted a door further down the brick wall. An Italian caricature stood invitingly above, hoisting a pizza to indicate the establishment's nature.

A growl gurgled from beneath Hagakure's hideous, floral print hoodie.

Turning, trepidation wormed its way into the lost kid's stomach as she regarded the dumpster behind her.

Time to see exactly how generous Hotei-sama was feeling.

Tuesday September 4th, 

4:28 pm

"Koda-kun," the boy went positively purple and tensed up, startled at the principal's direct addressment, "Did you notice anything strange when you last saw Hagakure-chan?"

He was saved from answering when the calm, deep voice of Shoji spoke up beside him, "No, Kocho-sensei. Both Koda-kun and I were together with her when she decided to grab drinks for us. She was not under any duress and I had acute vision on all of our surroundings at the time."

"S-she was just being sweet. She noticed my throat hurt without me even saying anything...I thought she came back when I saw Cementoss-sensei handing out water." Koda sagged in on himself with every passing word.

Earlier, only a few of 1A had been hanging in the main lounge of the dorms. Now, the entire class took up station around the small mouse and their homeroom teacher for the announcement.

Aizawa clutched a laptop flat to one side. The silent device sustained no data corruption solely because it lacked moving parts. In the man's other arm was a yellow roll of bedding.

Stepping up behind the petting hero, a blonde whose most prominent feature was a massive tail of corded muscle put a hand on the despairing boy's shoulder. After a slight jump, Koda settled under the brotherly pat. "It's not your fault," Ojiro informed with conviction.

Several more stressed faces stood around the room; but most of the class remained quiet, choosing not to interrupt. Even the pop pop of small explosions stilled.

Midoriya leaned forward in his spot on one of the couches. The green armrest beneath his hand dimpled with what would have been bruising force on a living thing, but the micro-suede remained unscathed. The analyst's gaze nearly lit the floor on fire with its intensity.

"He's absolutely right," Nezu announced. "I am here to see if there are any details I missed. Pointing paws is unproductive at best." The rodent surveyed the students.

"Is there anything more?" The commanding tone of Aizawa blanketed the class, demanding answers from anyone who had them. The underground hero wasn't fairing much better than his students; but he hid it well, pinning them with a severe gaze.

Izuku waited, listening hard. A couple of his peers voiced upset that the class had been left in the dark for the past few hours, but no new information came to light.

Studying his homeroom teacher, All Might's successor found it impossible to be frustrated. Aizawa-sensei had previously sustained countless injuries in everyone's defense, and the choice he had made this time was clearly strategic.

There was always a chance UA's staff could have located or rescued Hagakure-chan before any major incident occurred. It was better not to instill panic when all the facts weren't in. Besides, the faculty probably could have gotten away with not telling anyone until tomorrow before things would have started to smell of rotting roe. The fact that they hadn't showed a respect for their students.

Mind racing with all the topics to consider, Midoriya's right hand subconsciously reached up to cup a slightly rounded chin.

A sudden abduction of a UA student could have something to do with Kurogiri. Or even that suffocating liquid quirk that had teleported Kacchan into the warehouse full of Nomu.

But why take Hagakure-chan? Her profile didn't match up with Kacchan's at all. Was she bait? Was a villain trying to lure out All Might again?

Killing Hagakure-chan or All Might after he had effectively retired would definitely be a crushing blow to both UA and society's already shaky trust in heroes. The villain wouldn't even have to kill Hagakure-chan. Just taking her, a student who didn't stand out in any major way, sent a message that no one was safe.

A detonation rocked Izuku out of his thoughts. The boy's right ear kept ringing even as Bakugo pulled a soot-smudged hand away. "I SAID SHUT UP, NERD! Your mumbling is disgusting!"

The greenet looked around the room, startled to see everyone watching with horrified gazes. Midoriya's skin turned ghost-white and the boy's eyes dropped.

"S-sorry! Sorry, everyone! I didn't realize I was thinking out loud again." While avoiding everyone's looks, Izuku finally noticed the abused armrest under his left hand and unclenched white fingers from the green fabric. Pulling the offending limb down near his thigh, he rubbed the sweat off his palm.

Aizawa shot a mildly annoyed look Midoriya's way, but spoke up, "If you have nothing further to share, then it's our turn."

The loose circle of children turned to watch as Nezu cut between Aoyama and Tsuyu, leaving the center of the room for the TV area. Upon reaching it the intelligent animal crawled onto the coffee table in front, then assumed a formal stance with arms clasped behind a business-casual vest.

Aizawa followed, righting the laptop on his boss' stage, then plugged a dongle into a slot at the bottom of the flatscreen. The television lit up, a video set to play.

As the homeroom teacher got ready, all the students formed a new ring. Midoriya was lucky enough to not have to move, simply rearranging himself to face the other way on the couch.

Nezu motioned toward the erasure hero, blinking beady eyes as he did so. The sideways triangle in the middle of the display clicked.

As the scene at Gym Gamma became apparent, a strange overlayment lit up, shades of scarlet and cobalt coloring the visual.

"Be back in a second!" A red humanoid figure waved behind at Koda and Shoji. Neither of the two seemed to see the parting motion, but responded to the words.

"Thank you, Hagakure-chan!" the hoarse voice came from the ani-lingual, whose body temperature visually came across on the recording as cooler than the other two's. 

"Much appreciated." Shoji's head dipped in a polite bow. By far the warmest of the three, the boy's figure was lowlighted in variations of a nearly mahogany sheen.

"Tell me if you notice anything unusual in the video," Nezu addressed the entire class. "You may watch it as many times as you wish to make sure nothing was missed."

"May I plug in, sir?" Kyoka's jack lifted in askance.

"By all means."

The red figure of Hagakure thumped along in a jog, the girl making her way outside of Gym Gamma. The two teachers who would normally have heard the exit helped other students throughout the gym.

While the security footage played, the principal watched the students in the lounge closely, checking for any change in their facial features. There.

"Pause." Nezu pinned Kyoka with an unblinking look.

The frame stayed frozen on Hagakure's vague form, one scarlet foot poised to take another step toward the drink dispensers ten feet away. 

"I don't think it's anything, but the audio changed a bit. There was an almost crackled muffle just now." A fingerless-gloved hand reached up, holding the listening ear like a secret agent speaking into a mic set.

Nezu mentally filed the information away, kept in the ironclad vault that was High Spec.

"Let me know if you hear anything else."

A nod answered and the footage resumed. Much of the class had a hard time deciding what to watch, the recording or their resident musician.

The thermal image that was Hagakure approached the vending machine, hand out to select a button labeled "UA-torade".

A curly wire spun and the electrolyte-infused sugar water pushed forward.

Suddenly, the screen fuzzed at various places. One such unfocused part, directly beneath the girl's feet, took on a green tint. What seemed like an error in the video's recording quickly revealed itself to be part of the scene. 

There was a nearly comical parallel in the way both Hagakure and the liquid refreshment dropped, disappearing from view simultaneously.

"Wait, play that back." Aizawa immediately complied without Nezu asking. Now there was no question on what had the group's attention, all eyes on Kyoka. "There's some kind of static in the background. Can you turn up the volume about fifteen decibels?" A few blank stares had her rephrasing. "If the TV is on eight, turn it up to like….seventeen?"

Sero was closest to the remote and clicked a button on the side nine times as the video rewound again.

Kyoka's earphone jack suddenly jerked from the aux port on the TV and the girl stayed frozen, face pale and sweating.

"...shrieking..." the word was barely audible. Then, louder, "It sounds like a thousand voices crying and screaming in anguish."

A concerned Uraraka hugged Jiro from the side as Nezu twitched almost imperceptibly.

"I will leave a copy of the recording here so you may re-watch it. If you find anything else, please notify me no matter the time." The mouse sighed and the exhale bore a crushing weight, assessing the room slowly in what was an obvious stall for time.

The principal was saved from his impending words by a no-nonsense voice to his right; "In light of what happened today, all work studies will be canceled until further notice." Aizawa angled more into view, keeping cross-legged as he leaned back from the laptop screen.

A chorus of dismay sounded around the room, the exclamations seeming to be rooted more in compound worries than true anger.

Iida tried to console everyone, flailing arms even more rigid than normal and a furrowed brow at odds with his words.

Tokoyami bore a grimace, beak somehow mixing self-disgust and determination into one.

Ashido looked positively sick.

Midoriya was drowning in feelings.

The Work Studies were supposed to help the class grow stronger, teaching them how to react faster, notice problems and resolve them quicker. Being good wasn't just about physical strength, but awareness, prediction and self-reliance.

Izuku needed that experience. He hadn't even noticed his friend was in danger until it was way too late. The aspiring hero had been straight up incapable.

Frustration swamped All Might's successor and the boy clutched at his pants subconsciously to keep tears from falling. Eyes lifting from the wadded fabric of his lap, Izuku watched as Aizawa laid out a buttercup sleeping bag.

He could only imagine how the erasure hero was feeling.

Tuesday September 4th, 

6:00 pm

Hagakure glanced at a tree's shadow. In the last fifteen minutes it had gained quite a bit of length while she'd been scouting the area. It indicated approximately an hour or so before sunset.

The invisible girl had been conspicuous in bright sweatpants and a garish hoodie, and had had to strip once again to make it this far. But it had been worth it. Somehow, in the middle of town was a park. Better yet, it had been a well manicured, nearly bug-free locale with a drinking fountain!

Camping was once again a viable prospect.

Toru continued searching for a spot to sleep, passing by several boxwoods. Tucked beneath and nearly hidden from sight was a wad of clothes.

Getting them there had been a tricky matter; but she'd finally managed by way of a bizarre pedestrian-judged game of red-light green-light that had spanned several blocks.

Despite a shiver of longing, the naked teen steadfastly walked away. Toru had gone left from the big oak tree last time, and now headed opposite.

There was no underbrush to push through, just expanses of grass and flower beds covered in bark chips to suppress weeds. Landscaped shrubs, tiny evergreens, and the occasional bout of coreopsis and aster populated the area. A larger stand of slippery elm loomed further in, promising a drove of insects within its shelter.

Toru avoided it, skirting the copse and doubling back around.

Until someone screamed.

Adrenaline spiked, but only for a moment. The yell had been less threatened citizen and more child screeching in excitement. Curious, Hagakure strolled back toward the elms that scoffed at her presence, doing their best to unnerve the teen as she remained entirely unaffected.

Sneaking around the trees (that actually had undergrowth), Toru popped her head out from behind a bush. Nothing of the girl could be seen, but the action was habit.

Holy crap. That kid's shouting could only have been a sign from the universe. In front of the increasingly lucky young woman was a massive playground.

She'd have to find a way to buy a lotto soon at this rate.

Eyes scanned the premises quickly, honing in on a large yellow tube connecting two portions of a wooden look-out structure. The plastic section was likely to stay much warmer and drier than any shelter Hagakure could make in the next hour.

An offshoot of evenly spaced bars for hanging and a web of braided climbing rope decorated the closest side of the structure. Further away, on the other end, was a circular slide sure to crackle hair and zap any butt who dared use it.

Another scream of joy and thump thump thumping of little feet reminded the UA student she'd only be able to stay here at night when it was unoccupied. Even knowing that and the fact that she'd have to find a way to cover both ends of the tube for heat retention, she still rode a wave of minor euphoria.

The wind changed abruptly and the scent of artery clogging fast food teased at the hungry teen's nose. There might even be a restaurant nearby.

What a find.

Tuesday September 4th, 

7:00 pm

"WHAT ON EARTH IS WRONG WITH YOU!? You call yourself an educator when you constantly put the students' lives at risk?!" the male's voice which was unaccustomed to yelling went hoarse with emotion and strain. "My baby girl. My little Tora. You failed her."

An empty sleeve descended, eclipsing one of a different style below. As it settled gently overtop, the stream of indignation coming from the man slowed, then stopped.

"You promised. You promised us this would never happen again. That the dorm system would fix this." The words were soft, carrying with them the silent death of poison rather than the harsh blow of a club.

Bowing prostrate on the floor of the small apartment, Nezu failed to answer. For the first time since gaining higher intelligence, the mouse nearly wished to return to his former life. It was both a gift and a curse to feel such shame so acutely. Had the rodent been physiologically capable, his cheeks would have been aflame.

"I will do everything in my power to bring Toru-chan home to you. If I am unable, I will resign my position as head of UA."

The promise was a commitment, not empty placations.

Toru's father tensed, hand nearly crushed in his wife's previously comforting grip. The next words were cold steel.

"See that you do."

Chapter 4: It Was That Easy

Wednesday, September 5th

7:20 am

"Feelings of helplessness, headaches, irritability, fitful sleep and constantly pouring over an event to determine what you could have done differently. It sounds like what you're experiencing is a form of 'survivor's guilt'."

"Hagakure-chan may still be alive. I do not believe I have that." Shoji sat tense upon the edge of a common green UA recliner, all parallel hands clasped together in three pairs of two.

Across from the boy sat a brand new member of the school's faculty, daintily perched on the arm of an identical chair, clipboard in hand and business suit tucked perfectly into place. Once just a consultant on retainer, Hikari Aguni now held a full time position.

"Actually, that's a misnomer. Survivor's guilt is much more common than people realize, and also includes events in which loss of life is unknown," the petite lady explained. Then, after giving the stressed student a once-over and not liking what she saw, followed it up with "I am going to activate my quirk so you can think through this logically with me. Is that okay?"

The brooding male nodded in affirmation at the mental health expert, keeping an intense gaze locked on the grey linoleum floors. Almost instantly the dupli-hero's frown relaxed, and Shoji's clenched hands parted from each other, settling lightly onto dark blue slacks.

Although it was not Aguni's profession, the psychiatrist was known as the sunshine hero by her patients, quirk instilling a sense of calm and warmth similar to lounging poolside.

"A lot of people go missing in our society. Kidnappings, runaways, natural disasters, unstable quirks manifesting and collateral damage while subduing villains." A slender finger lifted with each new addition to the list. "There are many reasons people left behind may experience survivor's guilt. It is even more common in heroes because of the sheer number of these kinds of events they encounter on a daily basis. Not to mention that they are expected to keep people safe. Losing someone—even to things outside of anyone's control—can feel like a personal failure."

The woman tucked a string of wispy chestnut hair behind an ear and fixed Shoji with a sympathetic gaze. "I am here to help you recognize and learn coping skills to deal with anything you may be struggling with, including PTSD." A bright smile of encouragement lit up Hikari's face as Shoji finally looked up at her, the normally stoic boy's surprise visible despite his blue face mask.

"I am currently in charge of all first years and will be checking in with everyone on a regular basis. I even have open office hours now; and with a teacher's permission you can come see me at any point in the day. Basically, I'm a glorified nurse for psychic damage." The specialist winked at the gaming term, but kept the numerous studies showing a major correlation between survivor's guilt and suicide in heroes to herself.

Wednesday, September 5th

12:15 pm

"Whaaaat?! Aww, maaaan!" The whining came from an African American roughly Danny's age. The young man on the halfa's left shot a glare at him before collapsing dramatically into a pillowing of white sleeved arms. The boy's multi-colored beanie slid down at the motion, covering teal eyes and a pout. "This is your fault. I didn't even wanna take biochem."

"—free to choose from any of the topics on the board. You'll be in groups of three for this presentation, so find two other people you'd like to work with," an older female projected from the front of the room. With graying hair and less than perfect posture, the woman had to be at least late fifties.

"Sorry Tuck. I have to take Biochem this quarter while it's being offered. You could have taken the computer class with me?" Danny answered, voice significantly quieter. The ghost kid glanced at the other male before his eyes darted back to the instructor.

The lady had stopped speaking, assessing the class from behind thick glasses while waiting for any outbursts to settle.

"What, be bored to tears and waste money? Hard pass." Tucker Foley picked up a smart phone from where it lay on the desk in front of him and took a picture of the whiteboard behind the teacher. "At least this way I'm only wasting money."

The half ghost took on a serious expression, catching his best friend's gaze. "You know I really appreciate you taking classes with me, right? I know you don't have to, with your business getting so popular and—"

"Danny, enough. If you keep up all this brotherly love people are gonna start shipping us." Tucker dismissed, fingers wiggling in a grossed out way. His laughing smirk undermined the jibe as he stood at some cue from the teacher.

Several groups had already started to form around the room while Danny had been distracted.

Tucker power walked away, weaving between desks on his way from the back row to the front corner seats. A younger kid with wavy, shoulder-length hair seemed to be the techno-geek's target. The teen fidgeted in place, eyes just a bit too wide as they surveyed everyone nearby.

Danny took off after, having to lengthen his stride to keep up with the much shorter Tucker. He nearly tripped when someone's foot happened to jut out into the aisle, but intangible toes turned what would have been a fall into a minor stumble.

"Oh my gosh, sorry!" A girl apologized, hazel eyes sincere.

"Don't worry about it." Danny's head ducked as he backed away, hand automatically holding a tense trapezius.

Tucker was already chatting up the timid male he'd cornered at the side of the classroom. A smugness tinged his smile and tone, ready to spill over like liquid held in a glass by surface tension alone. "Hey Danny, meet our third: Julien."

Tucker snapped, finger ending the motion by staying pointed at Julien's semi-gaunt face framed in hickory brown hair.

" 'allo, Danny. T'ank you fou⟨r⟩ allowing me to join you⟨r⟩ g⟨r⟩oup." The H disappeared and the R's rolled in an alveolar trill from the boy's heavy French accent. The extreme anxiety of the male now made a lot of sense.

"Glad to have you." The disarming charm of a leader settled into place and a lopsided smile pulled at the superhero's lips. "I doubt you'll be saying the same for us by the end of this though. I don't even know what the citric acid cycle is."

Rather than be unnerved as would be expected, the French student merely sagged in relief.

Wednesday, September 5th

3:25 pm

Well today had been a bust.

Toru had been keeping a dour mood tamped down. But like a banked fire, the dying embers of the emotion felt like they could reignite at any moment to consume and burn out her resilience.

Many unforeseen problems had cropped up over the last sixteen hours, starting in the night.

Even with a thick, oversized men's jacket (found forgotten on a bench), a fleece-lined hoodie, plum purple sweatpants, and heavy boots it had been chilly. Covering both ends of her sleeping quarters with pine boughs had done little to retain the heat. Outside the tube the temperature had dropped to just under 11 degrees Celsius while inside hovered around 13.

The moisture in the air also brought another problem. While the waterproofing on the jacket had mostly warded against dampness, the humidity and all the fleece-lined clothing combined to create a monster of static cling that left small pops of stimuli against the highschooler's body every time she moved.

Needless to say her sleep had been light, and had required intermittent bouts of exercise to happen at all.

Long before the first child set hands upon the monkey bars, Hagakure had already left for the morning scout. The timing worked in the lost female's favor in that she didn't have to hide from many people.

After an hour traffic had hit, but there still hadn't been a lot of pedestrians. Face covered with a hood and hands tucked into a kangaroo pocket, Toru had been able to travel fully clothed. But as the morning had dragged on, being so tightly bundled had started to draw looks, and slowed all progress to a crawl.

Finally finding a map at a travel center's brochure stand, the UA student cried in relief. But the tears quickly turned to ones of frustration when Hagakure went to unfurl the cartographic paper.

It was in English, of course.

Tucking herself just inside an empty construction site to study the dang thing, she took a fortifying breath and got to work.

There wasn't anything resembling a "you are here"; so finally, after nearly ten minutes of searching, she found three candidate locations for "her park". Then it was just a matter of comparing road names from nearby signs with ones on the glossy paper to rule out the extra possibilities.

Next she looked for hero agencies, but didn't see any. Only major public services seemed to be listed by special symbols on the legend. Ignoring the "H" of the hospitals, Toru looked for all instances of a blue badge with a "P" inside.

Too bad there weren't any nearby.

Doing the math internally, Hagakure calculated her current speed then divided the distance she needed to travel by it. Three hours to reach the nearest police station was a long time. That would mean arriving dangerously close to sunset in a strange part of town.

This place was positively wonky. What country believed not having police boxes at normal intervals was a reasonable approach to public safety?

Groaning, Hagakure tilted her head back in exasperation.

A wave of dizziness caught the highschooler by surprise, and Toru braced herself on a steel beam. It was the second time she'd felt faint since waking up. The dumpster had only gifted her half a slice of cheese pizza the day before. Everything else had been a little too fuzzy to justify eating.

Taking long, even breaths to dispel the vertigo, Hagakure waited for the world to stop spinning.

No longer feeling like a drunken ship in a stormy sea, the woozy teen used the map to chart a new path towards her playground shelter. It was better to stay local to find a meal, and she just wasn't up for the trek to the police station.

Getting to the park fully clothed took a while, but she managed.

The embellished wrought iron gate of an unfamiliar entrance passed over Toru, and she consulted the map again. Following the leftmost running trail that wound through the public gardens, the haggard kid perked up when she saw a tiny, solitary building. Thank Kami-sama, the symbol for toilets was universal. Going number two in her little elm grove was something Hagakure could now avoid indefinitely.

Feeling somewhat better after relieving herself, Toru freshened up, the cheap, dehydrating antiseptic that came from the dispenser outlandishly pleasing to her nose. After disinfecting a series of shallow cuts, the girl washed her socks in the sink. Humming the tune to Tegami, she waited for the water to flush clear as soap suds rinsed down the drain with dried blood and dirt. The wool blend was then wrung out and held under the hand drier, the metallic click of a button sounding periodically.

It was tempting to sleep here; but the cold cement floors and gag-inducing smell were too offputting. Besides, people were more likely to come and go in a restroom. That was the same reason she hadn't stayed in any of the shops she'd come across even though they were heated. Her playground felt safer being raised off the earth and having no reason for visitors in the night.

Toru still had yet to see a single hero agency and had a sinking suspicion she wasn't going to. It was partly why the girl was putting off going to the police. Something just wasn't right.

The aspiring hero had seen more quirk users during today's excursions and almost all had generated discomfort in the general public. A few people didn't seem bothered by the displays of power—most of them younger in age—but it wasn't the norm.

Pushing back thoughts of doom and gloom, Hagakure's hands lifted, formed fists, then pumped down together.

"Yosh! Time to get some food. Nothing truly bad has happened yet but a bit of sore feet and a crappy night's sleep. I can still do this!" The self-encouragement echoed hollowly around the acoustic-friendly space; and yet, before she'd even stopped speaking, Toru was already getting ready to leave.

"I've got at least two more hours of light, which should give me plenty of time to look for a meal! Who knows. Maybe I'll find a hero while I'm out! You fall seven times just to stand up eight, after all!" The smile on the UA student's lips was strained, but without a reflection, the doubt could not stare back at her from the surface of a nearby mirror.

Mood lifting through sheer force of will, the prep exited the bathroom and headed back to the street, determined to find the artery-clogging restaurant she had gotten a whiff of prior.

Thursday, September 6th

10:47 am

It was freezing today. If Hagakure gripped her coat any tighter, the lostling's skin could practically meld with it.

Toru was especially spiteful of the development because not only was she incredibly tired from barely sleeping, but she finally had a lead. Ranging further from her park this morning had borne fruit; and it was obnoxious knowing she'd have to go clothes hunting again before she could follow up on it. Her emotions teetered back and forth between the extremes of furious and optimistic like the steady sway of a metronome's arm.

Taking a breath, the waffling girl reexamined a brick building from her spot crouched between two bright red burning bush plants. The flower beds lining the front of the school gave a decent view of the handrailed steps leading up to the entrance, while still offering cover to hide in.

As long as the sneak was still nobody seemed to notice her, even with all the winter gear on. They were average teenagers Toru spied on, after all, who mostly stayed glued to their phones.

What had caught her attention about this place was that just about every sixth student coming in and out of the olive green front doors had some accessory with either a fancy English "D", or a glowing black and white individual on it.

The pattern may have been attributed to the student body liking some movie character or a celebrity with a funky outfit, but she hoped it was because the person was a hero. Creeping slightly closer despite the risk, she sat down to wait.

The patient hero-in-training stayed there nearly an hour, body numbing and falling asleep while learning nothing new.

But finally, a lucky break hit when a pair of boys sat down on the closest concrete railing. One was a scrawny individual with light brown hair absolutely decked out in the monochrome celebrity's paraphernalia. The other was a crew cut blonde, more punk in nature, with jet black skinny jeans and an ivory skull on a crimson t-shirt.

It was several minutes before anything noteworthy about them caught her attention, but then she heard a word that seemed to be repeating a lot in the last hour.

"Did you hear what Phantom did last week?" The student who seemed to be a fan of the white haired person tilted his head slightly to the side while addressing his fellow highschooler.

The end of the sentence had lifted up, so it had to be a question.

"No, what?" As soon as the apathetic denial finished leaving the second teen's mouth, his excitable friend was already clicking away on a smartphone and pulling up a video.

"A delivery driver had a massive heart attack on his route, and Phantom stopped the van before it could crash! Then, he took the guy straight to the hospital. The doctors claimed it was a miracle the guy lived. If he had ridden in anambulance, he'd be dead right now!"

The few words she'd caught made Toru think the dyad was definitely talking about some kind of emergency, but she couldn't be sure. They could be chatting about something from the news or explaining the plot to a movie. Both scenarios were equally likely, and she'd never know the difference.

The brown-haired kid pressed play on his phone, the screen shaking slightly in overly thrilled hands. Toru could just see from behind the duo, watching with them as it played.

"Another good deed done by the local hero, Danny Phantom, caught on tape." The voice came from a nasally ginger woman who looked more plastic than person. She sat at a grey desk, holding papers. One hand let go and perfectly manicured fingers gestured to a green screened image in the corner of the display. "Let's watch."

The frozen picture enlarged, filling the entire screen with a view from a street cam.

Toru recognized the street, having walked down it just yesterday.

A white van drove down Hudson Way, stopping periodically for a middle aged man in a khaki uniform to clamber out of the driver's seat. The guy sporting a hefty gut and a distinctive handlebar mustache ran to various residential doors, leaving packages behind and scanning them with a handgun, a suburban parody of Santa Claus. 

The camera fast forwarded through the postman's routine for ten seconds, the guy ducking in and out of the van and delivering mail at high speeds. Then slowed, focusing the audience's attention on a moment when the mustached male was driving. It soon became apparent why, because the guy slumped at the wheel, clutching his chest. 

The vehicle that was still moving forward listed to the side, almost hitting a parallel parked car before a jumpsuited person flew in front of it. Planting white boots on the ground, the quirk-user grabbed the bumper in two places and forced the five thousand pound automobile to an abrupt stop. 

Seconds later the hero was wrenching open the delivery van's door. Pulling the driver out into a princess carry he launched like a rocket into the sky, blue-collar worker clutched to his chest.

Toru couldn't believe her eyes. There was a hero here! With both super strength and flight! She marveled at the genetically fortunate combination.

The footage froze and the preppy woman's voice from earlier talked over it, "You saw it here, folks. Phantom saves the day again. Now, here's Shelly Makamoto at thehospital."

"Thank you, Tiffany. I'm here awaiting an exclusive interview—".

The clip cut off as the fanboy paused his device. "Everything after that is kinda boring, so I'm not gonna make you watch it, but isn't Phantom just soooo cool!?"

That. That was definitely praise. And the recurring word Toru kept hearing was probably the hero's name.

"Yep. He's real awesome." The words still lacked enthusiasm, but it was obvious the punk-like teen was trying not to rain on his friend's parade any longer.

Feeling like Uraraka had tagged her with Zero Gravity, the foreign dimensional girl backed carefully away from the pair, a single word whispering from her lips.

"Fantomu."

Thursday, September 6th

11:08 am

The sky was a writhing swirl of emerald shadows, supporting iceberg-shaped land masses of violet and pewter.

A mostly monochrome figure except for its burgundy red backpack passed floating doors that drifted in no particular pattern throughout the Zone. Seeing an island supporting an abundance of exotic fruiting plants and flowers, the ghost's lips raised in endearment, knowing he was close to his destination.

Putting on a burst of speed, Danny Phantom plummeted straight down, flying through a corridor of twisting stairs and windows reminiscent of M.C. Escher's "Relativity" lithograph.

Shooting out the other side of the pocket worm-hole, the halfa came upon a massive building of traditional Scandinavian architecture. The house tiptoed the line of mansion and castle, impressive with its natural stone and mortar siding, elaborately carved archways of dark, rich wood, and a mighty turret to one side. The turf that made certain areas of the building's roof appear shaggy and unkempt held a strangely lavender luminescence.

Danny knew the grass was for show, as the ghosts inside generally didn't require the natural insulation it provided, but he had to admit it gave the building a more homely feel.

Touching down amidst Zone-variety daisies, tulips, and bachelor buttons, the white-haired male tipped forward as his flight cut out a smidgen too soon. Thinking little of it, Phantom inspected a courtyard enclosed by walls that doubled as additional living quarters. Most lairs gave off a feeling of "beware". But not here. Never here.

The very air welcomed, inviting all to kick up a wispy tail and stay a while.

"You made it!" The words were all the warning Danny got before a skinny figure nearly bowled the male over in a hug. "Not that I thought you wouldn't, just, well. I'm glad you're here."

Dani's frosted white ghost form looked up at the taller half ghost with azure eyes.

"C'mon! I want you to meet everyone!" The girl's change in attitude from a few days ago was apparent. A certain tenseness still pervaded Dani's frame, and the bags under her ethereal eyes hadn't disappeared, but the aura of "haggard raccoon" was now missing.

Dani pulled at the older Phantom, forcing the twenty-year old to float into the house behind his female counterpart, tugged along like a balloon on a string.

The "Guys, he's here!" that Dani called was probably unnecessary, as the two glided into a wooden beamed lounge packed with undead. Danny barely caught a glance of the chevron and diamond shaped carvings notched into the ceiling before he was accosted by greetings and swarmed with good intention.

When a feathered cross between an owl and a house cat landed on Danny's head, kneading the boy's shoulder and trill-purring like some squeaky chainsaw, a grin threatened to consume his face.

"Hello to you, too, Gryph."

The little beast leaned hard into the white gloved hand that reached up to scratch it beneath the chin.

Turning to another, distinctly more humanoid face, Danny remarked, "Lost Holm's mascot has gained a few pounds. Who's been overfeeding the little chonker?" The halfa's eyes twinkled as he watched Caleb squirm in place, a distinctly green tinge creeping up the young ghost's normally blue cheeks and pointed ears.

A snort was heard from the snout of a lizard, and a gecko girl with an extra set of arms piped up. "Told you to stop taking Gryphon to visit Uncle Walker." Danny's smile dropped imperceptibly at the mention of the prison warden, but the boy didn't interrupt. "She eats way too many ectoplasmic rodents when she goes."

"Sounds like she needs a rat-ical change in diet," Danny couldn't help but remark.

Only the newest member of the house giggled at the wordplay, everyone else just groaned or rolled their eyes if they had them.

The sound drew the punster's gaze to a little glowing magician. The kid sat on the twin tails of an overcoat, silky white-gloved hands clasping a comically large wand like a cane in front of him. Phantom watched the child lean forward in his wingback chair, a white tophat completely covering the ghost's head...or was the hat his head? Either way, no eyes looked back at Danny.

"You must be Luke."

The kid sprung to lithe feet, twirling the wand to the side and bowing with a flair for dramatics. "Luke Myway. At your service, Mi'lord." The words were said with a mocking flippancy.

Danny grinned, liking him on the spot.

Then frowned when the boy collapsed back into the chair, winded, a puddle of green forming along the edges of his tailcoat where it met with the upholstery.

Dani was at the kid's side in an instant, reaching under the hat to feel at the boy's hidden neck. An ectopus was fast behind, wrapping the younger ghost in a cocoon of tentacles that glowed neon lime. Luke seemed to stabilize, sucking back in on himself as the cephalopod's limbs lost their vibrant luster and darkened to a deeper jade.

"Thanks, Aegle," Luke rasped softly, all hint of mirth gone. The animalistic ghost bobbed in reply, worry etched across its face.

Danny detached Gryphon from his head and slipped off his backpack before rummaging around inside. Pulling out what looked to be a syringe with a satellite dish on top, Danny approached the fledgling ghost.

"Ecto-Dejecto?" Dani asked, disbelief in her voice. "It can't be that easy...Can it?"

"You never know; it might be." Danny shrugged. "I honestly might not have even thought of it if you hadn't been the one to come get me. It's been years since we've used it for anything. I even had to make up a whole new batch because all the stuff we had on hand was so old it had crystallized."

Rather than start spraying the stuff on right away, though, the halfa held out his hand to Luke. "May I get some goo, Mr. Myway?" The tone was polite, gentlemanly.

"Why certainly, Sir Phantom," the response matched in tone perfectly as the kid spurted slime from a fingertip directly into Danny's face.

Visage scrunching in exaggerated disgust, the superhero wiped the coagulated ectoplasm off as Luke laughed.

"C'mon Luke, this is serious," another ghost chided, making the magician sigh and hold out a handful of goop.

"I think I have plenty, thanks," Danny assured, holding up a still coated glove.

The Ecto-Dejecto was picked up and spritzed across the dirty smear on the kevlar-lined hazmat. After a moment, the goo's elasticity and rigidity increased, a putty-like consistency overtaking it while it tripled in size.

Danny took his glove off and left it to the side. While the group waited ten minutes to see if there were any negative changes in the treated ectoplasm, the future Fenton Works employee tested another sample from Luke to get a baseline. After, he checked the altered sample, comparing the two and making sure the Ecto-Dejecto hadn't caused any potentially dangerous flaws at the microscopic level.

Seeing none, but being careful, Danny insisted they wait another hour.

To Luke's delight most of it was spent cracking horribly dumb jokes. Like how Danny would only call the area they were in a lounge, parlor, foyer or entertainment space. When asked why, he very flatly said "Well it's not a living room, I'll tell you that much."

For the entire duration the glove remained moisturized by unchanged, healthy ectoplasm.

So, Danny misted the air around the mischievous child; and within seconds, the ghostling perked up.

A minute passed and he was levitating effortlessly.

….

….

"I can't believe it was that easy."

Dani's voice was somewhere halfway between extreme relief and despair.

"I mean, if it ain't broke don't fix it, right?" A smug grin accompanied the statement. Danny grabbed three more syringes of the miracle medicine and put it on the table. "I still want to test anyone having problems to make sure it's safe across the board, but I think I have enough to inoculate everyone who's here. I know some people are gone right now, but this is all I could make on short notice. I'll have my parents work on getting more for you to keep on hand."

Dani's voice, cracked with emotion, croaked, "Tha-anks, Cuz."

"I told you your kids would be better in no time."

The wink sent her way had Dani wanting to facepalm.

Thursday, September 6th

12:14 pm

"Hey Mom, I think there's something over there."

A middle-aged woman turned the wheel of an oversized SUV with black gloved hands, following a younger female's pointing finger. The passenger's raised arm swayed, a little charm bracelet tinkling over the fabric of a sweater as the Ghost Assault Vehicle turned and rolled to a stop a foot from the curb.

Throwing the gear shift into park and killing the engine, Madeline Fenton jumped up to open a steel-plated door for her daughter, Jasmine, and the two exited onto the sidewalk. Both Team Phantom members held some form of ghost hunting equipment; but neither seemed particularly tense.

Jazz carried a scanner in one hand and a collapsed battle suit in the other. The mechanized outfit was specially made, the designs based off of the original Fenton Peeler.

A futuristic soup thermos clipped to an obsidian colored belt was all the extra equipment Maddie needed.

Flipping the hood of her "Swiss army" jumpsuit over a pixie-style haircut, the woman's enhanced welder's goggles slid into place.

"That's weird, the Fenton Finder isn't picking anything up, but there was definitely something on the RV's radar." Jazz studied the handheld gadget, brows furrowed in confusion, before glancing at the family's work car.

"Here, Sweetie, let me see." The younger redhead shrugged, handing over the invention.

Maddie flipped through the device's menu, switched an ecto-signature lock off and passed it back. Almost immediately, a holographic projection popped up above the device's screen, several dots flashing in the right hemisphere of the lined display. "It's been malfunctioning lately. But I suppose it has been a while since I gave it a tune-up."

"What'd you do?" The daughter tilted the Finder on its side, as if that would make it spill some secret.

"Oh, I just set it to look for movement within certain temperature ranges, rather than for ectoplasmic energy. It means we won't want to use it unless we've spotted a ghost and are actively tracking it, though. It's next to worthless in this mode, since it picks up both ghosts and living things," Maddie explained.

Jazz let the scanner drop to her side, no longer worried about watching the hologram.

"Well, whatever the GAV picked up was in this direction, so we may as well check it out," she mused, and started a leisurely stroll.

"I still think the theft might have been one of the regulars having a bit of fun. Eleven dollars and twenty five cents in clothes is hardly the heist of the century. It's almost like the ghost was trying to get the cheapest stuff. I've seen Bargain Basement's prices, and believe me, 'bargain' is not a term I'd use." The older Fenton laughed at her own joke, while the younger just rolled aqua eyes. With all the other things they'd been helping her son with, petty theft was low on Maddie's importance meter.

"If they were human I'd profile them as a runaway," Jazz threw in, psychiatrist training peeking through.

"Or we could just have a tropical plant core on our hands," Maddie countered.

Jazz was silent for a moment, mulling her mom's idea over. "We are in the middle of a cold front. And today's only supposed to get up to 50 degrees."

Maddie reflexively relaxed into the heating elements of her teal suit at the words, and the pair lapsed into companionable silence.

The duo turned the corner at the end of the block, approaching the general area that the Fenton RV had indicated. Just as Jazz was about to consult the Finder, a small feline burst from a second hand store to their right, a bag of treats in its mouth. The owner came close behind, cussing up a storm.

Settling a rapid heart rate, Jazz exhaled a shaky breath.

"What's up, cat got your tongue?" Maddie teased, one eyebrow raised.

"Nope." A giggle escaped Jazz's throat before she could stop it. "I was thinking I got the wrong cat burglar."

Maddie snorted, then replied dryly, "Your brother's rubbing off on us." The woman shook her head, a smile threatening to invade her deadpan expression.

Jazz watched the shop owner chase the orange tabby down the sidewalk until movement in the foreground of her vision became too distracting. Behind a spindly ginkgo biloba trunk, a small puff of condensation frosted the air at even intervals.

Lifting the scanner, the twenty-two year old was unruffled to find a blinking red dot. No foreigner to ghostly interaction, the chipper redhead's finger hovered above the activation button to her mechanical suit. Moving only her eyes, Jazz glanced back and forth between the older Fenton and the tree, catching Maddie's attention.

They must have been quiet too long, because the water vapor disappeared.

Red tinted glass gained a slight glow as Maddie turned a dial on the side of her goggles. The world switched to infrared and a rosy figure came into focus behind the tree. It only took a second for the ninth degree black belt to assess the person. Hips and chest—female. Short and somewhat petite—probably a child or teenager. Shivering and light red in the thermal vision—not a ghost and suffering from the first stages of hypothermia. Standing outside of yet another second hand shop—likely the thief from Bargain Basement.

A pang entered Maddie and maternal instincts flared. Keeping a relaxed posture, the adult pulled off her hood while holding her eyewear in place. Looking slightly less intimidating, she called out a greeting.

"Hello?"

The infrared girl tensed, sliding into a posture made for sprinting at a moment's notice.

Maddie stood stock still, mouth barely moving and tone switching to one reserved for wild animals, "We won't hurt you. We're friendly."

Still the kid didn't speak, but she also didn't run, clearly regarding the two.

Beside Maddie, Jazz caught on and slowly lowered to the ground, sitting crosslegged non-threateningly. The child's pose relaxed a hair.

Taking a stab in the dark, Maddie asked, "Do you need help?" Then threw in, "We work with Danny Phantom," on a gut feeling.

Finally, "...Fantomu?"

"We are his—" the adult searched for an appropriate word, finally settling on "—sidekicks."

"Saidokikkusu," the invisible teen's heavily accented voice was reluctant, bordering on disbelief.

Maddie frowned, then asked, "Fudan nihongo de hanashiteimasuka?" [Do you usually speak Japanese?]

There was a heavy pause, then, "Hai." [Yes.]

Oh. Oh. Maddie changed her frame of mind, reordering her thoughts and thanking her lucky stars she'd kept up on the language. Studying abroad through Honda's robotic internship program, while difficult fresh out of college, had definitely been worth it in the grand scheme of things.

"My name is Fenton Maddie. This is my daughter, Jasmine." The elder Fenton gestured slowly to the younger. "We won't hurt you." Seeing the girl shudder again, very strongly, the ex-ghost hunter stopped, ashamed. "Please wait a second, I'll be right back."

"Jazz, Honey, can you wait with her for a bit? She's not a ghost and she's scared," Maddie informed her daughter before heading into the store. Inside, the analytic female examined all the displays, beelining for one labeled "women's outerwear". Finding nothing that stood up to a quick inspection, she power walked to the men's section. Within two minutes the cashier was checking out a heavyweight sweatshirt, ski jacket, sweatpants and sheepskin slippers.

Exiting the store with trepidation, Maddie was relieved to find neither party had moved from their spots. The skittish female's body language seemed softer too, no longer in a fight or flight stance.

"—understand me, but it's nice to meet you. I think my mom already introduced me, but you can call me Jazz." Jasmine pointed to herself at the last word, and repeated, "Jazz."

Maddie smiled from just inside the shop, proud of her daughter's perceptiveness.

The sound of the glass door opening made the hidden teen go rigid. Maddie froze, then moved forward again when the kid took a breath, shoulders lowering. The warm clothes heaped in the older female's arms probably had something to do with it.

"I bought some clothes. I don't want you to die of cold while talking." Maddie put the bundle of stuff on the ground a few feet from the girl, then backed off, wishing she could actually read the child's expressions. Her infrared was good, but it wasn't that accurate. "What's your name?"

Jasmine stayed quietly to the side, hands tucked beneath her butt non-threateningly.

"Th-thanks," the higher pitched words were reluctant, but sincere, as the enigmatic Asian pulled the clothes in close, head tilted at an angle that made it obvious Jazz and Maddie were still being watched. Then, failing to answer Maddie's question, she asked, "How can you see me?"

"My glasses have heat looking. I'm an inventor that makes many things," Although several of the words were strangely phrased, the heart of the conversation was there. Then, when the nameless female still didn't make any moves to dress, Maddie added, "The clothes are safe. They will not harm."

Without speaking, the teen slid on the jacket and slippers, ignoring the sweatshirt and pants for now. Maddie recognized the unwillingness for what it was: an avoidance of any garment that limited sight or mobility when changed into.

"So you are part of a small support company, not a sidekick, then?" 

Maddie felt as if the question meant more than she was getting from it, since "support company" was apparently a katakana phrase now.

"There is a long seat across the street if you want to sit while talking. I'm also very hungry and would like lunch from the Thai place by there. I am happy to answer questions, but my understanding is weird. This could be a long time talking."

It was a strained moment before the invisible kid lifted an arm, as if to say "lead the way".

When Maddie spoke next, it was courteously slow and even, "Jazz, we're gonna head over to that bench to chat, can you grab us Yum Yum? Something hot and filling; maybe a mild curry for our friend. You know I can always eat Pad Sew Ew."

Jasmine stood, dusting off the back of her jeans. "Sure." The fledgling psychiatrist stayed bright and cheerful as she nodded to the floating ski jacket. "I'll even make sure they include three pairs of chopsticks."

Maddie walked with Jazz across the street, resisting the urge to look back at their guest. It was imperative that the child understand the situation was in her control, that they would make no demands of her. It was clear that the struggling teen had not meant any harm, and Maddie wasn't about to turn away someone in need.

Jazz split off, heading into a nearby building while Maddie branched left, sitting as close to the far end of a solitary bench as could be managed. A dazzling smile illuminated her face when the mysterious girl seated herself on the opposite side.

In good faith, Maddie tried to answer the guarded kid's question from earlier. "I know not what 'support company' "—the katakana phrase sounded strange to Maddie's ears—"means, but my husband and I own an LLC, uhm, a company,"—this time she used the more familiar term kaisha—" named Fenton Works. We make ecto-technology. Machines that use ectoplasm to work."Not having words for everything, the adult had been forced to drop back into English whenever a blank was drawn.

For some reason, those words caught the child's attention quicker than anything else, tone going sharp and speech coming fast as the foreigner demanded, "What do you know about Ectoplasm?"

Maddie's face dropped at the change in attitude, but the woman still clarified. "My jobs are ecto-biologist and inventor. I study ectoplasm and ghosts for making machines. Ectoplasm is energy ghosts use to…live? No,exist. I do not understand why this question has strong emotion." Another pause happened, and the scientist wondered if she'd killed the conversation by bringing up her line of work.

But then.

"Gosuto-su?" The phonemes were clearly foreign to the speaker's mouth, causing the extra syllable to ruin the word's enunciation.

Peculiar. It was evident the teen knew the word "ectoplasm" without ever having heard the term "ghost". A big part of the picture to this story was definitely missing.

Stuffing down growing curiosity, Maddie went on, "They are not Japanese spirits,"—the word yokai just didn't fit—" but like them. Ghosts live in the Infinite Realms, or as my kids like to call it, the Ghost Zone. That place is a mirror of this world." Maddie halted, stuck on trying to think of a better way to describe the spectral beings. Eyes widening, she realized there was a simple one, "Phantom is a ghost.You have probably seen others around town, also."

"So these—," the girl slowed, as if rolling something around in her mind, "—ghosts, are what you call people with abilities. Is that why everyone's afraid of them; because they're from a different place?"

Ah-ha. Some things were starting to make sense. Being a foreigner and having powers that closely mimicked that of a ghost's probably made her worried about what Amity's reaction to her would be.

"I explained badly. The Infinite Realms is the...afterlife." Maddie made a small groan of frustration in her throat, then, "The place of death living. Ghosts are the souls of the dead from all worlds." 

A small gasp sounded from the far side of the bench, quiet but noticeable.

Pinching the top of a petite nose behind her black goggles' bridge piece, Maddie tried to ease a building headache. All the strange words made speaking in another language that much more taxing.

"That idea is scary for many people. But more scary was when the ghosts came at the beginning. They made big damage and had big fights often. Phantom stopped the fights, telling the bad ghosts to go away, and only letting the good ghosts come. In the last couple years, Amity Park—this town—made peace with the good ghosts, so they can come to have fun or live here. But people who used to have problems with the bad ghosts find living together difficult."

"If ghosts are so scary, why aren't you afraid...?" Of mewas the obvious, unspoken end to the query. The girl shifted in place, waiting.

"Good, an easy question." The Fenton's smile was relieved. "I said before that my family works with Phantom. We are like sidekicks, but more helpful." The bilingual paused to trace the bottom of her chin lightly, then pointed skyward with a sound of epiphany. "Teammate is a more good word. We make a lot of machines Phantomuses during fights, but we also help with normal things, like his health and taking care of the town. A lot of our time is spent….balancing?"—Maddie mimed a scale reaching equilibrium—"between ghosts and humans."

"Toru Hagakure." 

"What?" The information that seemed to come from nowhere had Maddie blinking twice, worried she'd severely botched the last explanation.

"My name is Toru Hagakure," the teen proclaimed, unfurling the sweatpants from her lap and putting them on, butt lifting off the bench to finish the motion.

Thursday, September 6th

1:32 pm

Hagakure was unsure why she was willing to follow these two redheads home. By all accounts they were just some random women with oddly specific equipment for finding invisible people. That was sketchy as all heck. Not to mention that they started the conversation with just about the only word that could have made her hear them out.

How on Earth had they known she was gearing up to find Phantom? Unless they were already stalkers. Everything in the kidnapped girl's mind screamed that they were villains; that them offering help and saying they worked with Phantom was all some elaborate ruse.

Her heart said otherwise.

There was just something so….sincere about them. Every step of the way the older woman—Maddie-san—had done everything right to make Toru feel more comfortable. The invisible teen had nearly fled three times during the conversation; but the mother's abject sensitivity to the UA student's needs became an emotional glue bonding her new slippers to the floor. Even when Jazz-san had come bearing coconut flavored curry, both Fentons had tasted it first, directly where Toru could see, before handing it off.

The close-lipped teen had still almost run when the pair offered to let her stay at their house. Normal people didn't do that. The strangers only knew Toru's name, and that she was hungry and lost. It was so suspicious.

She, herself, had learned plenty, if any of the information was to be believed. Quirk users apparently weren't a thing here. Nor were there really superheroes. Phantom was quite the oddity, to the point that the rest of the world believed "ghosts" to be one big hoax.

Even knowing that, it had still been very tempting to refuse Jazz and Maddie-san's olive branch. If she hadn't spent the last few days exploring the city, she would have. But too much of what they said, while crazy, somehow sounded plausible when compared to Hagakure's own observations.

The new information had definitely put her only solid, long-term game plan of going to the police in a questionable light. Requesting help from another dimension's American government that didn't know anything about quirks had just sounded like a can of worms.

She could have continued living by herself outside, but combating the cold was becoming a very serious concern.

The dwindling options were what had finally gotten the yes out of Toru. If the Fentons really were working with Phantom and the "Ghost Zone" really did connect worlds, staying with them was probably her best bet for getting home.

Still in her new, oversized apparel, Toru looked out the window of a vehicle that could only be described as a tank, eyes heavy. The air inside the cabin was outright balmy, as Maddie-san's first order of business upon entering the thing had been to blast the heat.

The cloud grey upholstery, with its excessively soft padding and wonderful back support were lulling the sleep-deprived girl into micro-naps. Every few minutes, Toru would jerk awake from a nightmare, expecting to find some horrific scene. And every time nothing changed, the gentle whir of the air conditioning system's fans the only things moving inside the space.

The final time when it happened, she realized that the SUV had stopped. Maddie and Jazz were still in their seats, unbuckled now, but patiently waiting for Toru to rouse.

"Are you ready to go?" Maddie-san's accent wasn't terrible, but it definitely wasn't great, and it was obvious the woman didn't speak Japanese on the regular. Still, the fact that the older female was trying so hard was part of what was breaking down Hagakure's defenses.

"Yes." The trio piled out, and Toru got a full look at the home they'd parked in front of.

For the first time since dropping through the portal, she completely forgot about her worries. For it was not a ground-floor-office/top-floor-apartment building that stood in front of her like she'd expected.

Eccentrically bizarre was the best way to describe this suburban residence.

The federal style house towered over the street, and not just because its red brick walls had to be at least forty feet tall. An absolutely gargantuan structure clung to the flat-topped establishment like an ungainly rendition of an alien's saucer. Giant steel protrusions stuck out of it every which way. From radio towers to flags, exhaust pipes to satellite dishes, the monstrosity had everything. Even a lone weather-vane chicken poked from behind one of the support beams that attached the construct to the roof. Then there was the enormous orange and green behemoth of a sign that proclaimed the business' name.

Toru's mouth dropped open. How did the family ever get the city to approve this thing's permits? It had to be some kind of safety hazard.

Well, at least there was no chance this was some shady location that got overlooked by the local populace. This place was the opposite of anonymous.

"Yeaaah. It's a lot. But it's home." The slow words came from Jazz, the simple sentences actually holding meaning for Toru.

"MADDIE! JAZZY-PANTS, YOU'RE HOME!"

Toru backpedaled on instinct as a massive male burst through the front door of Fenton Works, the green wood creaking on its hinges. The startled kid didn't even have a chance to run before it became obvious the day-glo orange man had zero interest in her. With the excitement of a golden retriever, the brick of an American practically flew at Maddie, carrying a cardboard box filled with a cobbled-together mass of wire and electronic parts.

"I got the Fenton Box-of-Boos to work!" The fast-talking, boisterous adult shoved the bundle of glowing parts into what Hagakure could only assume was his wife's hands.

"That-. That's great, Jack," Maddie congratulated anxiously, throwing a covert glance Hagakure's way. Probably making sure she hadn't run. Then, looking down at the jury-rigged package of whatever-it-was, commented, "I'll help you streamline the design later."

Even though the second sentence had been mostly incomprehensible to Toru, the edge of mirth in Maddie-san's words showed the woman was amused despite herself.

"Great! You're the best, Mads." The man who must be Jack pulled Maddie into a side hug and kissed the much shorter woman's cheek, grinning all the while.

"Daaaad! Calm down! We're trying not to spook our new guest!" Jazz rebuked, exasperation palpable.

"THERE'S A NEW SPOOK!?" Jack spun around fast enough to get whiplash, sighting down and rushing Toru in an instant. She'd barely drawn a breath before her arm was being wrenched by a violently enthusiastic handshake. "Jack Fenton! Owner of the infamous Fenton Works. Nice to meet you!"

Hagakure jerked away. Heart thumping wildly and nerves on high alert, the invisible teen dashed back to the street. When no one chased after, she stopped, turning around to reassess.

Jack Fenton was obviously excitable, and Toru did not like being grabbed, but the kicked puppy look spoke volumes.

Jazz stood to the side, the skin of her face stretching under the downward pull of her palm.

"DAAAD! STOP! She's not even a ghost. This is Toru Hagakure. She's human and needs a place to stay."

"Jack, Sweetie, come here and give her some space. She's afraid of people and only speaks Japanese."

"Oh." Jack sheepishly grabbed the back of his neck as he ambled toward Maddie. Hagakure's taut posture lowered minutely, then sagged when the childish adult retreated fully.

"I'm sorry about my husband, Hagakure-san. He can be…a lot, sometimes," Maddie explained, grabbing Jack's arm and holding onto it when the male got close enough. "He means well."

"It's okay." Toru's thoughts didn't match her words; but she wasn't about to be rude to the guy for being too nice.

Maddie relaxed on Jack's arm, prompting the man to perk back up like a sun-wilted tomato plant getting water.

"We should go inside. I can open the hiding bed and get you some warm tea."

Toru sighed. Maddie's acting skills were top notch if the worry in her body language was faked.

Jazz followed Maddie's cue when the older Fenton took point, leading a confused Jack back up the stairs, invention tucked under an arm.

As soon as the door opened, the younger redhead called into the house, "Danny! We're coming in with a skittish person that needs Phantom's help." No one could see Hagakure's furrowed brow as she wondered just why Phantom's name had been emphasized.

Swallowing trepidation once again, Toru trailed after them and into a surprisingly normal front room. Well, at least what she assumed was normal for American-style houses. There was an awful lot of purple; and the grey section on the right had this weirdly circular recession in the floor. But otherwise, the kitchen visible on the far side of the room was fairly basic, and the plain staircase on the left seemed to only lead to bedrooms and a bathroom.

Hagakure nearly tripped on the welcome mat when she spotted a raven-like young man staring at her with piercing blue eyes. She could have sworn the male hadn't been perched on the foyer's curved couch a moment ago. It was unnerving.

The TV was off, and the room was bare, so why was he even in there? The UA student then noticed the boy pull a small cloth pinched between two circles of wood from behind him and almost chuckled at the absurdity. She'd been afraid of a guy doing needlepoint in his spare time.

Then, the giant pumpkin-like man in front of her bellowed, "DAN-O! This here is Teru Hagga-curry! Come say hello!"

It was all Toru could take.

A fit of hysterical giggles overtook her, which quickly escalated to roaring laughter while all the Fentons exchanged sidelong glances.

"Are you okay?" Maddie asked, head tilting to the side like a bird while the young man from the couch came closer, footsteps silent.

"I think I will be. Things have just been rough these last few days. I guess I needed some stress relief," Toru answered offhandedly.

"If you believe so. Just talk to me if you are needing,"the mom entreatied.

"Thanks. I do mean it." 

"Arigatou. That means thank you, right?" It was the first time the younger male spoke, his voice surprisingly smooth and middle-toned. Hagakure had expected it to have more bass, with the guy being close to Shoji and Sato-kun in height.

The American held out a hand, arm relaxed and waiting with a pleasantly warm smile on his face. "My name's Danny. As you probably already guessed, I'm part of thefamily."

All the English was making Toru's head spin so only some of the words made any sense, but she did appreciate that the handshake was not forced this time.

"Danny, Toru Ha-gah-cur-aye-san is Japanese and doesn't speak any English at all. But if you want to be polite, you can bow in greeting." Danny angled toward his mom as she spoke, eyes training on her mouth when the correct way to say Hagakure was emphasized.

"Oh. Whoops!" Danny turned back to the invisible teen, dipping at the waist with a loose fist in front of his stomach and one behind his back in a distinctly western bow. Then, speaking slowly, tried again, "Konnichiwa. My name is Danny Fenton. Nice to meet you, Toru." A sharp inhale came from Maddie, making Danny's head swivel.

"What'd I do?" The words were fast, panicked.

Toru thanked Kami-sama that no one could see her blush. She was already embarrassed enough.

"In Japan, it's traditional to call someone by their last name and use honorifics to denote familiarity, like san, sama, kun, and chan. Using someone's first name at all shows closeness. Using someone's first name without a suffix attached, well…" Maddie trailed off awkwardly.

The boy groaned, apologizing profusely.