A/N - Hello, lovely readers! I've got an update for you!

How are you guys enjoying season four of BNHA so far? Let me know your thoughts about the new season and this chapter~

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Plastic gloves protecting slender fingers crinkled loudly as a haggard looking woman worked dark dye through her hair.

Globs of hair dye had been massaged into her scalp and she continued to work it down to the tips of her hair, applying the majority of the contents of the plastic bottle to long blue tresses that wouldn't be blue for much longer.

Tanaka Miya stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror as she stood in her and Nemuri's shared bathroom, combing the dark paste through her hair. The oversized t-shirt she normally used for cleaning was now stained around her shoulders and bust. If she had thought about it more, she probably would have thought to do this in the shower so she didn't stain her clothing. But her mind was far away from her body at that moment.

If she had been truly focusing on her reflection, she might have frowned at the dark circles that lay underneath already dark eyes, giving the vague impression of a raccoon – but she was not truly focusing on anything, only staring blankly ahead with a troubled mind.

Her new cellphone chimed as she got yet another email. She glanced at it, but ultimately ignored it. She was far too preoccupied. The cellphone had been purchased just the day before, a visible reminder of how and why she had lost the previous one.

She stared at it a bit longer, her combing movements ceasing momentarily.

After the harrowing ordeal in the alleys, she had retraced her steps in the dark to the area she thought she had remembered dropping it, only to find that the phone had vanished, just like the man. Miya had even gone back the next day before her shift at the hospital, spending a few unsuccessful hours meticulously searching for the damaged electronic.

Finally, on Sunday she gave in and accepted that her phone was gone and purchased another. It was nearly impossible to live and work without one these days, and she was just glad her salary was able to support a replacement to an expensive electronic.

Miya had hardly slept a wink over the weekend. After her terror filled Friday evening, she'd had more of those strange dreams any time she tried to sleep on Saturday or Sunday, with more words of warning in another language she hardly understood and more foreboding scenes of destruction.

The young doctor bit her lip uncertainly, finally focusing on her reflection as she pulled off the plastic gloves on her hands and discarded them in the rubbish bin. Meeting the gaze of the woman in the reflective glass, she realized her normal spark was gone from her eyes. Miya looked frightened, unsure, and exhausted.

Her phone chimed again, this time a text from Aizawa. She ignored that too. She would read it soon, but not just yet. It was probably just the information that she had requested of him earlier about where they would meet up for patrols in just a short few hours after the sun set.

Miya continued to stare at the stranger in the mirror, gaze undiscernible to even herself.

She was positive that she had returned to the correct place that she had dropped it. Miya had a nearly impeccable memory, one that still operated sharply even if she was being chased down dimly lit backstreets, if that was even what had happened.

Whoever was chasing her had vanished into thin air at the last second, and Miya could only wonder - had there ever truly been anyone there in the first place? Was it possible that she could have imagined it all?

No…maybe…I don't know.

And there was no way to make completely certain of it. The only evidence she had that there had been somebody after her was the fact that her phone had disappeared as well, and that wasn't strong evidence at all.

Anybody could have picked it up in the time it had taken her to calm down and retrace her steps on Friday night, anybody at all, despite the fact that she hadn't seen another soul in that dingy alleyway.

But it could have been that man who had taken it. If that man was even real and she hadn't hallucinated the whole thing.

There were too many unknown factors for her to lean either way in her judgement - too little evidence to know if he had truly been there, and too little evidence to know if it had been a figment of her imagination. She hoped that the former option held truth to it, because Miya knew well that the path to madness was a slippery slope, and that rabbit hole was one that she had no interest in falling down.

Maybe I'm just stressed?

But it had felt so real at the time, and she had heard him and seen him, hadn't she? She liked to believe so, but there was still a nagging doubt present in her mind, one that whispered that perhaps she was wrong, that perhaps it was all in her head.

With these strange dreams and that odd voice that kept speaking to her as she slept…and now to have imagined that someone was pursuing her in such a frightening way…

She stared at her reflection once more, delving deep into the dark eyes that were reflected back to her on the mirror's surface.

What's happening to me?

Is it all in my head?

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For some reason, the loss of the blue hue in her long locks drew more attention to the young woman in a way she was unfamiliar with. She wasn't quite sure why that would be the case. Even though genetic mutations had allowed for a variety of hair and skin colors to become more commonplace, the dark brown of her freshly dyed hair was still an extremely common color.

She supposed it had to do with how the dark color of her dyed hair blended in very naturally to the rest of her darker-than-average features compared to the rest of the public.

Her skin was a few shades too tan to compare to most people she knew, and it carried an olive undertone to it that was rarely found in this area of the world. Very unlike the skin tones of the people she had grown up around, unless they had quirks that altered their appearance, of course. Her eyes were a coffee color that was prevalent among many people here, but the shape was different, looking closer to the eyes of the woman in the photograph named Laleh. Her mother.

And now that her hair was a deep, dark brown, it seemed to exaggerate the features that she had no doubt inherited from her mother and give her an appearance that looked even more foreign than she had possessed before.

She looked different – she looked more Persian.

Miya was sure that the black clothing she was wearing, as per Aizawa's instructions she had worn a pair of tight black yoga pants and a long-sleeve black t-shirt, only intensified that look. There were plenty of people giving her curious looks as she sat on the commuter train towards the Kabukicho ward of Tokyo.

She would blend in to the darkness easily enough when the time came, but for now, she was stuck listening to a pair of middle-aged business men whispering about where they supposed she might be from and if she spoke any Japanese.

It was astounding what a change of clothes and some hair dye could do to give you a completely different look.

The two men continued to whisper, not taking too much care in the fact that their conversation could easily be overheard by the already annoyed doctor who sat across from them.

"You don't suppose she'd come to get some drinks with us? I've always had a thing for foreigners, even if this one doesn't have much meat on her bones."

"I wonder where she's from. Suppose she doesn't understand your invitation?"

"We can find a way to communicate. Most foreigners heading to Kabukicho are looking for a good time, I doubt we'll have a problem."

"It's worth a try, but your wife might just kill you if she finds out you've been out drinking with a pretty young girl again."

Miya grimaced as they chuckled to themselves. Just her luck that the only open seat was across from these two pigs. It was clear they thought she probably didn't speak Japanese well enough to understand their hushed conversation.

"I survived the last time she found out about one of my affairs, didn't I? That last one was worth it though, that little college girl had the biggest pair of tits-"

"Shut your mouth before I shut it for you." Growled Miya, lips curling in a nasty sneer that she threw their way.

She had no interest in listening to the forty-something-year old man describe the explicit relationship he'd apparently had with a girl half is age, nor did she particularly care to hear him describe the girl's body in such a vulgar way.

She was channeling her inner-Aizawa, casting them the most embittered and foul glare she could muster. The fact that she hadn't had any proper sleep over the last few days only made it more intense. Her method worked, though, and she was able to sit in relative peace for the rest of the ride.

Miya made a mental note to thank Aizawa for all the times the death glare that she had learned from him had come in handy. It was a useful tool to possess, there was no denying it.

She didn't spare them a second glance when the commuter train pulled into Kabukicho station, simply stowing her new cellphone in her pocket after shooting her mentor a text to let him know she had arrived, and continuing ahead.

The sight of the district was overwhelming at first glance.

On the train ride there, Miya had been looking up facts about this district in particular, and the less-than-stellar reviews this area had been given paled in comparison to what she was now seeing.

Ranked as one of Japan's most dangerous neighborhoods, Kabukicho was possibly the largest red-light district in all of Asia, and it certainly looked the part.

Kabukicho was also known as one of the last Yakuza strong-holds, a place where many different branches of the dwindling underground organizations fought and did business together. Most businesses, clubs, and stores throughout the district were linked to the Yakuza branches in one way or another. It had been this way for decades, and it was unlikely to change any time soon.

Try as the local governments and police forces might, they had been fighting a losing battle to rid the area of the Yakuza influence, as well as shut down the many illegal prostitution and drug rings that were prevalent here. Ultimately, the authorities had realized it was too big a job, and covert heroes had begun working alongside the local police.

She supposed that she shouldn't have been surprised that Aizawa's agency frequently stationed him here for patrols. This was a dark and shady area, where the big names and flashy ensembles that most heroes carried would only cause more trouble than help.

No, in order to have success, the police and heroes would need to blend in, to lurk in the shadows and fight in the dark. She was certain that things were different here, as opposed to the way normal heroes might go about patrols in broad daylight and fancy costumes to put the public at ease.

But not so in Kabukicho. In order to catch crime in an organization that operated underground, an underground hero was required – and that was where Aizawa came in. And Miya too, at least for this one week.

Miya breathed in anticipation as she took it all in, coming to a standstill on the train platform. She suddenly felt a rush of energy, one she was grateful for given the fact she had slept so poorly all weekend.

Her grandfather had never let her anywhere near this area when they had lived in Tokyo, so she had only ever caught a glimpse of this ward on train rides in and out of the megacity.

Neon signs flashed dazzling colors in the dark night sky, electronic billboards changed their advertisements every few seconds, multiple sources of music floated and intermingled in the air, and the crowd was packed and boisterous. The night was young, but Miya could already smell the stench of alcohol mixed in with many other smells that permeated the area.

The noise and light and people and scents were overwhelming, and in the chaos of it all, Miya momentarily lost herself as she searched for Aizawa through the thick and rambunctious crowd.

That is, until a large hand came down upon her shoulder.

Miya spun, meeting the eyes of Aizawa Shouta as they stood still in the large group of people moving this way and that.

"This place is crazy!" Miya called to him over the loud noise that seemed to come from every direction.

She could hardly hear him when he responded, but managed to make out the words of his tell-tale flat tone that didn't want to waste time chit-chatting, sprinkled with just a dash of grumpiness. Which was, as far as Miya had known him, one of his decent moods.

"Stop gawking." He instructed, turning quickly and beckoning to her to follow. "We have work to do."

"Sure thing, boss."

With their faces illuminated by a strobe light from a nightclub they were passing, she saw his eye twitch.

"Don't call me that."

"Why? I'm your intern this week, aren't I?" She replied excitedly as they meandered and navigated through the crowds on the street.

"While we're on duty I expect you to follow protocol." He replied, tone daring her to challenge him. "You'll call me by my codename, Vita-Girl."

Miya couldn't help the way her mouth quirked at hearing her newly picked hero name falling from his lips. She had dreamt of this moment for years, never thinking it would be a possibility after having failed her entrance exams.

But here they were. She had a hero name, a position at the same school she had only ever dreamed of, and an opportunity to see what real patrols were like.

So much had changed in what was almost half a year ago that Aizawa Shouta had appeared on her doorstep to extend an offer of employment on behalf of UA. She had grown so much, leaving behind the timid and compliant young woman she had been before and learning how to truly live for herself and make her own way.

That thought in itself was enough to allow Miya to momentarily forget everything else. All her worries seemed to vanish in an instant.

Her fright about what had happened on Friday, her stress from being on call for surgeries while holding a full time position at UA, her worries about whether or not she would be able to be a suitable replacement for the legend that was Recovery Girl, the physical stress of all the training she had been putting her body through, the drama that came from her grandfather – it all seemed to melt away as she focused on the briefing that Aizawa was giving her as they walked quickly down street after street, delving deeper into the areas that looked a little more unpleasant.

She felt truly alive in that moment, as she let everything else wash away.

"-as well as the Shie Hassaikai's recent turf grabs in this area of–" Aizawa glanced over at Miya, visibly disgruntled with the fact that the young woman was gawking at practically everything they passed and staring at her surroundings with starry eyes. "Are you paying attention?"

"Of course." She replied, looking quite pleased with herself, and then allowing her gaze to drift off to the left when something else caught her eye.

"Then what did I just say?"

"That the Inagawa-kai recently lost almost a fourth of their territory to the Shie Hassaikai, and that there's been skirmishes between the two groups." Miya parroted back to him, though her eyes continued to wander. "Don't worry, I'm listening. I'm a surgeon, a researcher, and a woman – I'm basically a multi-tasking queen."

Aizawa only grunted at her, growing impatient with her attitude. That certainly wouldn't do. She'd end up getting herself killed before long if she wasn't focused. The Yakuza were no laughing matter, this the underground hero knew by first-hand experience.

Deciding to put a stop to it now before it got out of hand, he grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her down a side street, ignoring her protests as he pushed the woman roughly against the dirty brick outer wall of a dingy looking bar.

People continued to pass by them on the street, none giving them the time of day. This sort of thing was normal here, and many chose to turn a blind eye towards events of that nature.

"I don't want your multi-tasking, I want your undivided attention." He reminded her sternly. "This isn't a field trip, this is the real deal. Treat it for what it is and don't get cocky or you'll end up in a body bag, got it?"

Miya blinked in shock, his harsh words sobering her immediately.

"R-right. Sorry." She murmured, eyes wide as he released her from his tight grip and stepped back.

He was right, though, she knew it. She was too excited about being here, too distracted by her surroundings. Even if she had been listening, Miya knew that he was correct about the fact that what they were doing deserved her 100%.

Aizawa frowned at her before continuing down the street.

Miya blinked once more, shook her head to clear her mind and focus like he'd told her to, and followed closely after him.

"So, where to first?" She asked, albeit more quietly and with more reservation than before.

"The rooftop across from a bar called Suzu's." He replied, eyes glued ahead and hypervigilant of his surroundings. "An insider tip-off relayed to authorities that an independent dealer will be delivering a shipment of weapons to the basement tonight for the Inagawa-Kai to pick up later this week. Apparently, it will be disguised as a shipment of hard liquor."

"How strong are the Inagawa-Kai now that they've lost parts of their syndicate to the Shie Hassaikai?" Miya asked as they turned a street corner.

A scantily clad woman smiled sweetly at Miya, giving a sultry wink as the duo passed a building where men drank and gambled inside, each with a beautiful and half-dressed woman on their arm. Miya flushed and faltered slightly, nearly tripping over her feet at the hostess who had winked at her.

"Keep up and pay attention." Aizawa barked at her before answering the question as Miya clambered to match his pace once more. "It was a large blow, which is probably why they're looking to purchase more weapons. Our job is to observe the transaction for now, so we can learn the identity of the man trafficking to the Inagawa-Kai."

"It's just a stake out? You won't stop them from taking the weapons?" Miya asked, confusion lacing her tone.

"Not yet." He affirmed, explaining further when he noticed her confusion. "We have an undercover officer on the inside posing as a new member. The transaction needs to happen in order to keep the officer's cover intact and make sure they aren't suspected. We still need more information about their operations before we make a move, but it won't be long."

"That makes sense." Miya mumbled, more to herself than to Aizawa. "I guess it's only a matter of time before the rest of the clans are busted and broken apart too, right? It seems like the shift towards organized villain groups is overtaking their place. That's what I've heard on the news, at least."

They turned down an alley this time, and Miya felt a shudder down her spine as she forced herself to follow.

The images of the man in the hoodie filled her mind's eye, and she steeled herself in response, pushing the troublesome thoughts away as her mentor pulled out his signature restraints.

"Never underestimate an enemy, Vita-Girl. That's been the downfall of many great heroes." He replied seriously, attempting to drill that point into her head. It might just save her life one day. "But yes, that's correct. Organized villain groups with ideologies that fight the system are more popular than crime syndicates. They rally more villains to their cause than the Yakuza do to theirs. But the Yakuza have been intertwined in our country's framework for centuries. They've been here before the rise of quirks, so it's unlikely they'll go anywhere anytime soon, no matter how weak they are now."

"I suppose they're both fundamentally different, though I can see why diminishing their influence would be difficult." Miya replied, taking his advice to heart but also thinking aloud. "The Yakuza are more business and trade oriented and have a presence outside of crime. Don't they also give loans and provide disaster relief and protection for the locals in the areas they operate in?"

A sturdy nod from Aizawa as they turned into another alley, stopping underneath a rickety metal fire-escape.

"Yes." He affirmed. "Their existence is a complicated one since they dabble in everything between drugs or prostitution all the way to government. They have plenty of public support from those who receive their protection. That's why they've hung on for so long."

He gestured up then, and Miya allowed her eyes to follow his movement to the roof of the building.

"This is it. Use the fire escape but don't make any noise."

"And you?" She murmured, lowering her voice to match his lowered tone.

But he had already launched himself into the air with his restraints, slinging himself upwards in one silent and graceful movement to land on the roof. He peered down at her then, gaze expectant.

Miya stared after him.

Oh. Duh.

Her gaze turned toward the fire escape that looked as though it might collapse if she put her full weight on it. This metal contraption had to be at least as old as her grandfather.

Miya scowled as she hoisted herself up onto a nearby trash can and then up onto the fire escape, wishing that she also had some sort of fancy tool to help her maneuver more easily. The fire escape groaned and swayed slightly and the young doctor froze, pausing to see if she might have alerted anyone. She didn't need to look up to feel the underground hero's disapproving stare at the noise she had caused.

She proceeded with caution, taking her time scaling the rusted metal staircase and being careful of her footing. Too much weight in certain areas caused a noisy metallic creak, so she moved slowly, thinking about how convenient it might be to have some sort of tool to allow her quicker mobility.

Maybe I could ask that Hatsume girl about something. Miya reflected pensively on the industrious student. However, a brief flash of Mei Hatsume's maniacal laughter and penchant for explosions filled her mind and Miya winced. Actually, on second thought…

But she could think about that later. She had just arrived to the top, and Aizawa sent her an annoyed look that signified she had taken too long by his standards. She wrinkled her nose back at him, as if to say 'oh, stuff it'.

He only ignored it, discretely waving her to where he was sitting on the roof, crouched down low with a pair of binoculars. He handed them to her as she situated herself.

"Get comfortable, we'll be here most of the night." He mumbled quietly.

"All night? You're joking, right?" She whispered back, taking a peek through the binoculars and focusing on the back entrance of the bar across the street.

"We've already established I don't care for jokes." Aizawa reminded her dryly.

"Mm-hm, right." Miya responded back in a whisper, though her mentor was still able to detect the dubious nature of her comment. "You're still in denial about your 'logical ruses' and 'rational deceptions', huh? I know you have a sense of humor deep down."

"If you're going to be this way all night instead of acting seriously, then go home now." He grumbled before adding under his breath. "You've been spending too much time around Mic, his annoying habits are rubbing off on you."

"Well, to be fair, you've rubbed off on me too. I figure I've got one of the best death glares in town now." She chuckled softly, voice hushed and breathy in a way that caught his attention despite his attempts to stay focused. "It works like a charm when you've got some weirdos asking you out for drinks."

He paused for a moment.

Was that a joke? He couldn't tell. For whatever reason, the prospect of the woman at his side needing to ward off unwanted attention or romantic propositions made him feel…well, he wasn't too sure.

But it bothered him nonetheless, in a way he wasn't sure he had the words to describe. It felt different than the level of protection he felt over his students. No, this was different somehow. The situation she had hinted at made him agitated to think about. He didn't feel protective at all, not in the slightest. Just…flustered? Agitated? Bothered? He wasn't sure.

But why?

He knew she could hold her own after seeing to her combat training himself, she didn't need anybody's help defending herself against a civilian. He wasn't worried about her physical safety with the level of success he had seen from her defensive and offensive fighting while they had trained over the months; so why was he having any response to her statement whatsoever? It was not a rational response on his part, he concluded.

He supposed that it was perfectly natural that a woman like Tanaka Miya would receive attention in that way. She was a young woman in her twenties, with a kind disposition and features that he had heard people call "pretty" or "exotic", not that he had really noticed. He was fairly certain that students faked injuries or stomach aches every now and again, just to have a chance to get to the medical ward.

She had her downfalls, he knew that for himself. She was too timid at times, too unsure of herself, too naïve in a way that could easily work against her in the real world. She had grown up too sheltered and protected, of that Aizawa was certain, for she still seemed a bit oblivious to the cruel ways of the world. She annoyed him many times, seeming to take pleasure at goading him.

But she was also a talented young woman, a quick learner, and a good conversation partner. Conversation, in the times he had engaged in deeper conversation with her, was both mentally stimulating and perfectly satisfactory to him. When she wasn't being annoying and silly, he found her presence tolerable, which was more than he could say for most.

And even though she pressed his buttons from time to time, she seemed to know when to stop, unlike a certain loud and blonde hero he had grown up with. Aizawa Shouta had no true complaints about Tanaka Miya, at least none that impacted his ability to tolerate her continued presence at his side.

It was only natural that she would have plenty of invitations from potential romantic interests to turn down if she so chose. Perhaps she might even accept one in the future. Most women in their mid-twenties were dating or even getting engaged and married. Nothing about this was out of the ordinary, he reminded himself.

Suddenly feeling a sense of irrational irritation, and becoming even more agitated at the fact he had no explanation for why he was experiencing this, he frowned.

"Stop talking and keep your eyes trained on the back door." He instructed quietly, still slightly disconcerted with his previous train of thought.

"Yes sir, boss man."

"I told you not to call me that."

A small giggle came from the woman at his side.

Aizawa bit back a sigh. This was going to be a long night.

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Miya's feet dragged heavily as she trudged her way back home.

She hardly needed to look at her wrist-watch to know that it was impossibly late. Or impossibly early, depending on how one assessed time. Either way, the sun was showing hints of rising in the sky, and the young doctor was certain that she would sleep well as soon as she made it home and collapsed on her futon after a shower.

She was passing people on the street who looked as if they were on their way for their morning commute towards their work place, as opposed to Miya, who was just returning from her first night of patrols.

Miya wasn't even sure she could really call what they had done a patrol, however. They had sat on that dirty rooftop for hours, taking shifts peeking through binoculars and snapping discreet photos whenever they caught signs of movement.

She wasn't sure what she had expected, but a stake-out had not been high on her list. But she supposed that it was part of a hero's work as well, and she had received some excellent pointers from Aizawa while the hours had dragged on, who whispered many practical tips about the art of stealth and infiltration while they waited for the shipment to arrive.

She had learned a lot in just one night, even if she had seen no action. The shipment had come and gone, and they had taken many notes and pictures to hand over to the local police chief to help identify the man who was trafficking weapons in and out of the district, as well as some vital snapshots and behavioral documentation of the Inagawa-kai.

It was the closest she had been to villains or criminals since the attack on the USJ, at least the closest she had been aware of. They had watched and recorded from the shadows for hours, like creatures of the darkness, blending in to the dark background.

And now? She was nearly home after switching rails and beginning her walk from the platform to her apartment with Nemuri, finally feeling as though she would be able to sleep well for the first time in days.

The streets were relatively empty at such an early hour, save for the business man or woman here and there, ones who likely had a longer commute to work and had to rise earlier than others. But other than that, the busy city of Musutafu seemed quiet, nearly peaceful.

The hustle and bustle had yet to begin, and many residents had yet to waken from their slumber. Miya enjoyed the quiet of the early morning as she trudged along, feeling more at peace than she had in the last few days.

In little time, she had finally made it to her building. Nemuri's apartment was much nicer than the one she had previously shared with her grandfather, and it even had the perk of extra security of locked doors in order to enter the building. All residents had special key cards to swipe in order to gain access to the lobby, unlike her previous apartment, where all the doors to each apartment had been exposed to the street.

The added security made Miya feel a bit more at ease, especially since Friday night. She paused at the doors as she dug out her swiping key at the door to the lobby, pulling it out after digging for a moment in her pockets.

If she hadn't paused, it might not have caught her eye.

A flickering streetlamp on the corner of her empty street, the slightly ominous wavering of light catching her attention as she paused and glanced to the side. But the lamp and its faulty light were not what caused her heart to skip a beat.

Standing underneath the lamp, partially illuminated by the flickering light and partially obscured by shadow, was the man in the hoodie and medical mask.

Miya froze, her key card slipping from her fingers in shock.

Her entire nervous system gave a jolt, and she was frozen to the spot in a stupor as ice seemed to spread through her veins. He was there, and though the shadows covered his eyes and face, she could feel his stare upon her skin. She knew, instinctively, that he was watching her.

Her mouth trembled, and for a short moment she remained frozen, her hand wavering in the air as she willed her body to move. It did not comply at first, but after a few moments of terrified stupor, sense and reality came crashing back into her.

She tore her eyes from the imposing figure and scrambled for her dropped key card, fumbling with it as she jammed it into the slot with shaking hands until she heard the little electronic beep accompanied by a small green light that allowed her to enter the building.

She glanced back once more before she slipped in the door.

He was gone.

But she still refused to linger. Miya all but sprinted for the elevator, shifting her wait nervously back and forth as she ascended to her level high above the ground. She rushed, not breathing a sigh of relief until she had made it inside her door and double locked it for good measure, as if the locks could keep her troubled mind at bay as well. It was a small sense of security that meant very little, if somebody really wanted to get to her a simple chain lock would not hinder them, but it nonetheless made her feel slightly better.

"Miya-chan!"

The young doctor bit her tongue to keep from shrieking as the sudden noise took her by surprise. She tasted copper in her mouth as she spun around, her wide and wild eyes settling upon her roommate. Upon realizing it was only Nemuri, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, her chest deflating with a slow rush of air.

Nemuri's thin brows furrowed at the jumpy reaction, but she continued anyways.

"How was it? See any action? Any suspicious activities?"

The image of the hooded man under the flickering lamp post filled her mind as she stammered an answer.

"I – I – what?"

"Your patrols…" Nemuri trailed off slowly, looking at the flustered woman curiously. "How did they go?"

Miya could have smacked herself for being so silly. Of course she was asking about the patrols.

"Fine!" Miya barked out with forced enthusiasm, a bit too forced to be believable. "Good! Wonderful really, very informative."

Nemuri frowned as Miya let out a peal of nervous laughter, not quite buying it.

"Are you okay? You don't look so good, Miya-chan." Stated the raven-haired hero as she gave the doctor a skeptical once-over. "Did he bother you again?"

Miya's chest tightened, and she attempted to control her reactions.

"Who?" She breathed, hiding her hands behind her back so that her roommate would not see how they shook.

She received a strange look in response.

"Aizawa-san, of course…who did you think I was talking about?"

"Oh! Of course. Sorry, I haven't slept well recently, I think I'm just tired." Miya returned, glancing to the side as she lied. Though perhaps it wasn't completely a lie. She hadn't been sleeping well at all. "I think I'll head to bed now, I'll see you when you get home in the afternoon."

Nemuri watched in confusion as Miya awkwardly scuttled around her before retreating to her room and closing the door, leaving the older of the pair to stare after her.

It wasn't the first time she had noticed the young woman's jittery behavior over the last few days, but this was certainly not the best vote of confidence that Miya was as 'okay' as she wanted Nemuri to believe. Nemuri had noticed, of course. She was a pro after all; it was her job to notice the smaller details.

She had little idea what could possibly be the matter, but she was certain of one thing: something was wrong – and Tanaka Miya was frightened because of it.

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Reviews! (I've decided to start answering them)

Biracial Person: I am just so tickled you're so excited about a biracial OC! I know that I had always wished there were more fics that had OCs that represented people like me and weren't only the 'run of the mill blonde hair, blue eyes, porcelain skin, etc etc'. And then I thought...why not do it myself? Anyways, thank you for the review and I hope you continue to enjoy :)

ukitakeitalialover041757: The suspeeeeeeeeenseeeee! Haha, I love writing that kind of stuff, so I'm glad you enjoyed reading it. I listened to a bunch of creepy music to help me get in the mindset! Also happy you enjoyed the Aizawa/Miya moments, Aizawa is such a tricky character to write, so its good to know the scenes came off as authentic

: Ahhhhhh, I'm glad you liked the moments! They're cute to write, especially just as a sprinkling of oblivious cute moments here and there since they're both about as dense as a rock when it comes to their emotions, lol! I'll reveal the bit with the dreams and who is following her further down the line, but I can't give away too much yet...