Chapter 8: Final Exams: 4

The President of The United States of America sat at his desk, patiently tapping away in a rhythmic pattern. His relaxed sitting posture spoke of how he held himself within the confines of the oval office, that being with absolute confidence in every single one of his actions. His muddy golden eyes narrowed as he scanned a piece of paper that had been sitting in front of him for quite some time.

And, it wasn't just any kind of piece of paper. No, it was a piece of paper that had been sent to him by someone unknown and was deemed harmless when it had gone through the proper inspection protocols.

His dark blue suit and blue tie sat against his body as he continued reading, his muscles tightening with anxiety—something that The President hadn't felt since his time as a young adult taking part in The Steel Ball Run 2.0 over 32 years ago, which was what allowed him to jumpstart his career as a politician seeing as he had won it, 2.7 Billion Dollars in all.

Why 2.7 Billion? Because the original Steel Ball Run back in the 1890s prize money was 60 Million. So, the hosters for the event adjusted that prize money for, at the time, modern-day inflation. Of course, if it was held now, it would be worth at least 10 Billion Dollars, mainly because of how insane inflation had been over the past few decades, but he digressed.

Side tangent aside, the contents of the letter had shocked him, not because it had anything to do with something regarding the country, nor was it about anything regarding any of his co-workers. No. This letter was personally addressed to him—something that never really happened often. Not unless it was something from the other governors of the other 51 States.

However, even with that context, he was not prepared for the contents of the letter. Because it came as a surprise for him to learn that this wasn't about any sort of political debacle. Rather, it was something regarding his personal life that no one should have been able to know unless they themselves happened to be there and or got the information from someone who had been there at the time—the latter of which seemed far more likely than the former.

For not only was it something extremely personal to him, but also insanely embarrassing for him to have remembered—not because he was ashamed, but because it was something he had been looking into for quite some time.

He was reminded of the affair that he had back at that meeting all those years ago—15, if he remembered, back when he was the Vice President to President Johnson. To think it would have actually resulted in something. He stroked his growing blond beard, as his neck-length blond hair brushed up against his back.

There were multiple pieces of paper within the letter, one of which was a DNA test, with names, parental connections, a snippet of a family tree, and a note. He wasn't shocked that his affair with that woman he had met all those years ago produced a child. He had a sneaking suspicion that had been the case. But, there was something that he distinctly remembered that he had said in case his affair had resulted in the conception of a child.

He had specifically told the woman that if a child were to be born of the affair, he wanted custody of the child. The woman agreed, saying that she had no qualms about doing that because she didn't have the money or the time to raise a child.

So what changed? And better yet, why wasn't he notified of the child's existence? He might have been a Vice President and later a head of the secretary of state at the time, but it wasn't as if he had no free time at all to raise a child. And he would have used that free time to raise the child in question. and if he was not there, he could always have his maids and butlers do it until he came back.

He saw himself as being a potentially good parent—not like his father. Never like his father. Sure, he had no proof of that claim, but he at least wanted to try. The fact he wasn't given that chance was more than annoying. But, it was something he could've lived with.

Or at least, he would have, had he not read the note attached to the DNA test.

Dear Mr. President of The United States

I hope this letter finds you well. I know you must be so confused as to what you are seeing here. If not, then perhaps that shows just what kind of person you are; to abandon a daughter and a mistress. Shame on you if that is the case. If it is not, then perhaps you never knew of this child existing in the first place. Either way, it hardly matters now.

I am sending you this letter to tell you that not only have we killed the mother of your illegitimate daughter, along with her step-father, but we also have your illegitimate daughter in our hands under threat of death if she does not work with us, serve us, and listen to our every whim. However, there is a way that you can ensure her safety, and that is if you give in to our demands.

We demand that 287 Trillion Yen worth of American money is sent to us at this specific address: 4529, Jango St, Yokohama Ward. On top of this, we also wish for you to shut down The Speedwagon Foundation within America, and Japan through an investigation. We do not care if the claims are bogus, or illegal, they must be shut down should you want your daughter to live.

If you fail to comply, or, if you send any of your secret services, CIA, FBI or the army to collect your daughter, we will know, and she will die. We have eyes and ears everywhere, Mr. President. Please keep this in mind before you make any kind of irrational decision.

You have exactly 1 month from the day you receive and open this letter to comply with our demands before we take things into our own hands. For your information, if you want to know how I will be made aware of the opening of this letter, it is because a Quirk belonging to one of my loyal subordinates has been applied to this letter, and they will tell me when the letter is opened.

Yours Truly: The Yagi Clan.

The President's hands shook in rage as he gripped the sides of the letter. There was nothing more infuriating than a bunch of criminals asking for such high demands, and doing so with absolute authority they themselves should not have. The implications of the letter were also alarming because it insinuated that there was a spy or multiple spies within his cabinet of trustees.

Not only that, but they had killed the mother of his daughter. Granted, he had no right to call her that because he wasn't in her life—hell he didn't even know she existed until now, but that wasn't really his fault now, was it?

This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing for money or an attempt at a power grab. This had been planned, and with how far some people were willing to go just to prove a point, he had no reason to believe that the contents of the letter were false in any way.

These people. These criminals. They thought this out. They weren't rookies like your common villain organization; they were professionals with standards and a lot of experience. And that terrified him. It reminded him of how The Mob used to work in New York back in the early 1900s.

He remembered reading stories of Al Capone and other mobsters like him. How they would directly taunt the US Government, knowing full well there wasn't a god damned thing they could do to them, up until the IRS kicked them down and laughed whilst they squirmed.

A deep, tired sigh escaped The President as he moved the letter away from him. He looked down at the snippet of the family tree he had been given and frowned. It had the names of himself, the mother of the child, and the child in question, along with a picture of the child at her current age, sitting next to the woman that was her mother.

The child in question had short purple hair, with bangs that reached down to her cheeks. She had a pair of earphone jacks hanging down from her earlobes much like the older woman. She had a slightly rounded face with a pointed chin, a pale complexion—things that she most likely got from him—and brilliant purple eyes, which were the same as the mother.

Most of the child's appearance was roughly the same as the mother, except the child's aforementioned complexion that had matched him more than the mother, who had a slightly tan colour of skin and more slanted eyes compared to the child's rounder eyes that more matched him. There was also the fact that the mother had a more rounded chin than compared to the child, though the difference was negligible if you weren't really paying attention.

The child also had a more broad build compared to the mother, who had a more slim build. Once again, another difference that showed that he was, in fact, the father; aside from the obvious. These were little things—tiny things that alone wouldn't matter, but altogether painted the picture of a combination between himself and that woman that the child was with.

Then came the actual family tree that he had been provided with. And if he had even a modicum of doubt in his mind that this child wasn't his, it had been shattered just by reading this.

Mother: Mika Jirou, sex: Female, age: 29 – B. Father: Diego Arthur Brando, sex: Male, age: 37

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Child: Full Legal name upon birth: Kyoka Jirou-Brando, sex: Female, age: 15, shortened name assigned to her by mother post birth at age 2: Kyoka Jirou.

Diego's eyes narrowed. So even on the child's birth certificate, the woman placed his name next to her own, and it had stayed that way for 2 years until she inexplicably changed it. The question now remained as to why he was never contacted, because he sure as hell never contacted her after the affair. He had assumed that his worries of a child coming from that affair weren't realized, so he saw no reason to do so. And it wasn't as if anyone on his team had denied a phone call by Mika's number, which he had given to all of his phone operators on the off chance that she called telling him that she had his child and that he needed to pick her up.

Something fishy had been at play here. Something he was going to need to look into as soon as he got the chance. Because this was something that he had specifically made sure to keep an ear out for, and not once was he told about it by anyone.

"Mr. President, I have word from General Akbar that Ms. Bate is going to be helping U.A. with their final exams." A sudden voice cut through his thoughts, drawing Diego's attention to the entrance of his office. There stood a man with a lizard mutation Quirk, wearing a black suit with a red tie—a member of the Neo-Republican Party, a split of the Republican Party that had remained true to the Republican Party's original beliefs and not what it has become now, that being a Fascist shadow of its former self.

The man in question went by the name of Henry Jackson. He was the Neo-Republican Representative and he was the person that had been assigned to watch over Star and Stripe.

Diego nodded, stacking away the contents of the letter and sliding it neatly away within his desk. "Very good. I was wondering when he would get back to me about my query on that matter," Diego stated plainly, steepling his fingers. "If that is all, Mr. Jackson, I wish to be left alone. I am going to make a call to someone."

The man nodded, turning to leave. When he did, Diego turned to the phone on his desk, and quickly dialled a number that he thought he would never have to dial ever in his lifetime. The phone rang and rang and rang, until finally, someone picked up.

"Hello, Jonathon Kujo of The Speedwagon Foundation speaking. What can I help you with?"

Diego sighed. Despite his past hatred for Jonathon Kujo, he could respect the man for what he had become, and not what he had been. They had quite the rivalry back during The Steel Ball Run 2.0. He remembered when he had awoken his Stand after having been infected with that stupid Dinosaur Ability.

He also distinctly remembered having been cut in two. The only reason he had lived is because of his ex-girlfriend Hotpants. He owed a lot to that woman. More than he would've liked to admit. It was sad to see her die of stage 4 breast cancer.

He felt the sides of his mouth chip and his teeth grow slightly, before quickly reverting to normal. He did not need Scary Monsters at this moment. He needed to wrap his emotions under control before something stupid ended up happening.

"Hello, Mr. Kujo. It has been a long time since we last spoke," Diego said as the sound of Jonathon fumbling with the phone in his hands made him crack a grin.

"Mr. President! I-I wasn't expecting you to call! I'm, um… in the middle of a meeting right now, but I… uh… I can—"

"Does the name Kyoka Jirou mean anything to you, Mr. Kujo? I am asking because your late wife's maiden name was Jirou, and it involves me."

There was dead silence for around about a minute or so. The sound of scuffling chairs and hurried steps indicated that he was moving somewhere private. Good. The last thing he needed right now was for Jonathon to be in the middle of a meeting discussing such an important topic.

"Alright, Dio, I'm alone now. Now why the hell are you bringing up my niece? Don't get me wrong, I respect you, but I am having a lot of issues with that as it stands. She's gone missing, and the fact that you know about her only makes me—"

"Now, now, Jonathon, there is no need to jump to conclusions," Diego interrupted, sighing. "And I would like it if you dropped that ugly nickname. I do not know what I was thinking when I applied that name to myself. I was unaware of the trauma that man had caused, and I foolishly thought that using it would give me some sort of unspoken popularity amongst the crowd.

"Now, that aside. You say she's missing? Well, do I have good news, or possibly bad news, for you? But first, how much do you know about Kyoka's biological father?"

Jonathon scoffed. "Other than that he's a deadbeat? Not much. According to Mika, he never showed up ever again after he had impregnated her. What of it?"

Diego felt his anger spike. "That no good, lying, rotten harlot!" Diego growled, his hand clenching his hand into a fist. His blood boiled and his rage surged. How dare she lie! Was that her plan the entire time? To seduce him, convince him that she was a poor woman whom no one loved so, tugging at his heartstrings enough to have him do the deed and potentially give him a child that he could raise that she could not, only for it to all be a lie?!

Or… perhaps there was something else at play? No… no because that wouldn't make any sense…! Diego sighed, slowly calming himself down. He had only noticed now that he had gone into his hybrid form, his blue tail embroidered with the name DIO in all caps along it with golden lightning rod spikes thrashing about, nearly knocking over a lamp or two. His claws, now fully ejected, scraped at his recently polished desk…

"Damnit…" Diego thought. "I need to control my anger spikes… this is starting to get out of hand…" Diego cleared his throat, tempering himself as he exhaled.

"That was not true. Jonathon. I have no idea what in God's name made her think that she could say that. I…" Diego sighed, closing his eyes. "I am Kyoka Jirou's biological father."

There was a palpable silence from the other end. After a few moments of waiting for a response, Jonathon finally spoke up.

"What the FUCK does that mean, Dio? If that's the case, why haven't you ever owned up to that? I thought you had changed, Dio. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Diego had expected that. Unfortunately, he knew he wasn't going to get any sympathy. However, at the very least, Jonathon deserved an explanation. His daughter was Jonathon's niece…. It was funny. Enough though his particular portion of the Brando bloodline had no direct connection with the Joestars, seeing as his side of the family had been spurred about thanks to an affair that the original Dio's father had with another woman, it still somehow ended up coming full circle. "The irony in that is too funny for me to not ignore…"

"I had an affair with Mika Jirou 15 years ago during my time as Vice President for President Jackson. Make no mistake that, at the time, I had truly loved that woman. We simply lived different lives, and I was only in Japan for a short visit due to a meeting that President Jackson was having with the then Prime-minister of Japan. If I could have stayed, I would have. But, alas, life can get in the way of love. You of all people should know that, Jonathon."

"What's your point, Dio? So what if you had loved Mika? Why didn't you ever come back? That doesn't excuse you, Dio. You better start giving me a damn good reason before I start to get furious with you."

"First of all, I told you to stop calling me that, Jojo," Diego growled as Jonathon grumbled on the other end. "And secondly, it wasn't as if I hadn't attempted. I knew I would never see Mika again because I was so busy. So, I had arranged for Mika to contact me should that affair bore a child. Due to her supposed financial situation, she couldn't raise a child. So, I assured her that I, Diego, could do just that. You know just how rich I am, Jonathon. I would have given her financial support if she had accepted, but she declined. I knew that should've been a red flag right then and there, but I…."

Diego paused. He hated admitting to his own weaknesses. Brando never admitted their weakness. Not to anyone, not even close friends. But this was necessary. And it wasn't as if he didn't know all of Jonathon's. Cursing under his breath, he continued.

"I've always been gullible to a woman who I find suits my fancy. Mika was someone I, even though I had only known her for a week at that time, cared for deeply. She told me all about her struggles, how she grew up in a poor environment, and how she had no one to fall back on. In short, Jonathon, she swindled me. I had thought I was going to get a child out of this affair. One that I could raise and call my own. But… I was lied to.

"Believe me, Jonathon. I did not want to abandon them. I had even gone as far as to leave them with my contacts should a child be born. All so I could pick up the child and take it off of the struggling woman's hands. All so she could live the life she wanted! But… I was lied to. I… I never reached out because I had thought that there was no child. And, I was so busy with my day-to-day life, with my campaigns and with my goals to reach out for a regular conversation. Looking back on it, I'm fairly certain that the number she gave me was a dud. It makes me think that I was used. Something that never happens…."

Jonathon remained silent on his end. Either Jonathon was angry, or he was mulling over the information. With Jonathon, there was no in-between. And so, Diego waited in bated breath, wondering whether or not Jonathon would believe him. After all, Jonathon had no reason to listen to Diego. After all, he had done to the Joestar both during the Steel Ball Run 2.0 and a few years after the fact… he would understand that Jonathon wouldn't believe on principle.

"Alright… I… look, Dio—No, Diego. I want to believe you. I do. You sound genuine, and that's a rarity coming from you. But… I just don't think Mika would do such a thing. To lie to someone like that unless she wasn't given a choice. Mika isn't an evil person. She can be shrewd, but she would never do something like that.

"If I were to guess, someone told her to do that. Someone forced her hand. I don't know who, but if what you're saying is true, Diego. I'll believe you. However, there was something else you wanted to talk to me about. What is it? I don't have much time, I was in the middle of an important meeting regarding a student at U.A. So please, make it quick."

Diego grunted. Good, he was believed. But now, onto something more… important. The main reason why he called Jonathon aside from coming clean about being Kyoka Jirou's biological father. "I believe I know who took Kyoka Jirou. Does "The Yagi Clan" sound familiar to you?"

"What?!"

"I take it that it does. Well, don't jump the gun right yet. There are still some… issues that need to be worked out. Such as the fact that her life is on a hair trigger. In other words, I cannot do anything about it unless I fork over 28.7 Billion American Dollars over to them, along with defunding The Speedwagon Foundation in its entirety. Granted, I could do that easily, but, as much as I dislike it, the world needs The SWF. So, it's not like I can just do that. Not to mention, by their admission, they have spies everywhere. And I believe that includes my cabinet, and perhaps even within your own company. I suggest you do background checks on everyone, such as I am going to do after this phone call."

"Hold on, that doesn't make any sense! We wiped them out after they attacked the Chinese Compound. Everyone was locked up, and those that didn't come peacefully were killed. That should be impossible!"

"Are you sure you got everyone, though? Are you one-hundred percent sure that you truly got everyone, or was there someone you missed?"

Diego's question caused a tense silence between both Joestar and Brando. For a brief minute, the air grew stagnant, and just as Diego was about to continue the conversation by changing topics, Jonathon spoke up once again.

"Taisuke Yagi, the boss's apprentice at the time… I never actually checked to make sure he was dead. I didn't have my horse, so I couldn't use the infinite rotation. I just assumed that he had died from his wounds…. That fight was just as hard, if not harder than my fight with Valentine during the second Steel Ball Run…"

"Then it seems as if that failure has led to our current events. That was over a decade ago, Jonathon. Think about just how much stronger he has gotten. But also remember how strong you are now, too. I trust you know what to do now."

"I do… but, what, pray tell, do you plan to do? This is your daughter we're talking about here. I know you're the President and all, but… don't you have to worry about your re-election campaign? The next election is coming up soon, is it not?"

Diego laughed heartily, before clearing his throat. It had been a while since he had laughed like that. The last time that happened was when Hotpants fell off of their shared bed and landed in such a way that she, somehow, got tangled up in the cord of the lamp. That was 19 years ago, back when he was in his late mid-30s. Oh, how times had changed.

"Oh, please Jonathon. I value this position, but even I know when it is time to step in. Once I get a few things sorted out, you can expect me to be in Japan. I am not about to let someone threaten my family because they think they are powerful. The Joestars might be powerful, but we Brandos are ruthless. No po-down punk-ass criminal is going to look at me and threaten the life of my daughter over a petty feud they have with your Speedwagon Foundation."

Jonathon remained silent, possibly thinking to himself about the situation he was now facing. Whatever Jonathon's reaction would be, Diego didn't care. He had made his choice. Sure, he had no idea what kind of person Kyoka Jirou was, but that hardly mattered. Brandos were proud of their heritage and were equally as protective of it. The only two Brandos he could possibly think of that weren't like that were Dio Brando's father, Dario, and his father, also named Dario.

"It's been nice talking to you again, Jonathon. But I, Diego, am a busy man. I have a lot on my plate, and I intend to make the most of it. Oh, tell Cathleen that she will be getting a 25% docking on her pay for not telling me prior to her departure. The country needs her, and she can't just go faffing about like that. Have a good day, Johnny."

Before Jonathon could complain, Diego hung up the call.

xxXXxxXXxx

"Bakugo Katsuki, you are very lucky that the headmaster believes in second chances. Had it not been for him, I would have expelled you," Aizawa stated, glaring at the hospitalized teen. The boy was covered head to toe in bandages, with both legs being strung up in the air and arms bound together. The only visible things were his eyes, nose, and mouth.

"I understand…" the boy rasped, his expression solemn as Aizawa narrowed his eyes toward the crippled teen.

"No. I don't think you do. What you did was a crime. Suicide baiting is not a joke, and can be written under attempted manslaughter. Fortunately for you, both Midoriya and the headmaster vouched for you. I have no idea why Midoriya would do something as illogical as that, but he did. It was his choice, and while it is questionable, I will respect it." As Aizawa spoke, he adjusted his shoulders as they had been starting to get stiff.

"Now, that does not mean you will be getting away without some consequences. For starters, you have been prohibited from doing the final exams. You've also been prohibited from coming to the training camp; not that you can move anyway in the current state you're in. You won't be eligible for your provisional hero license until next year. On top of that, you will be forced to have mandatory counselling sessions from now until the end of December.

"I am very disappointed in you, Bakugo. Although I should have known better. I should've seen your behaviour and acted on it. Also, when you do get out of the hospital, you will be moved from Class 1 – A to Class 1 – B. I am not going to have you interact with Midoriya anymore. I made the mistake of having you both in the same class. I am not going to make it again. I wish you a speedy recovery."

And with that, Aizawa left the room. It wasn't often he was truly furious with a student. Oh, sure, he had been angry before. But this was different. He wanted to expel the boy, but the headmaster had said that it would be better if he remained to learn from his mistake. The headmaster had also made it a point to remind Aizawa that everyone, no matter who they are unless they committed a truly vile crime, deserved a second chance.

Aizawa was the kind of person to believe the opposite. Once someone committed a crime, especially of the calibre Bakugo had committed, they were irredeemable. Of course, there were exceptions to that rule, particularly murder. If it is self-defence, then it's self-defence. He'd expect nothing less if the same energy is directed towards the victim. Within reason, of course. If they're just boasting about doing it then it's not worth it. If the act matches the punishment, then that is what gets done. Nothing more, nothing less.

Bakugo was not an exception. After hearing what he heard, and having several people back up those claims, the folders from his old school covering up and labelling the situation wrongly, he had all the proof he needed to make sure that boy never so much as touched U.A. soil ever again. And he had been fully prepared to chew him out violently. However, from what he saw within the eyes of that boy, and from what he said and how he said it, he truly seemed to regret what he had said and done.

If the boy was truly sorry for what he did, he would apologize to Midoriya the first chance he got. If Bakugo didn't do that, then he would know that the boy was just being sorry for himself. It wasn't as if he was no longer in the hero course; much to Aizawa's chagrin. But, at the very least, he no longer had to deal with the boy.

"You really went in on him, Shouta," Nemuri's voice cut through his thoughts, causing the tired man to look over his shoulder. She smiled, joining him in his walk before speaking up. "And before you ask, I already talked to Yoshihara. I'm fairly certain we both know that she had something to do with Bakugo's condition. Right?"

Shouta nodded. "Yes. Knowing Kira, if she had found out about what Bakugo did first, she most likely did something. The question is, what? I know Kira can be… wrathful but considering she claimed The Vampire did the damage to Bakugo, we have no way of saying for sure. Either way, considering that explosion was most definitely one of hers, she'll be tasked with cleaning the 1 – A dorm for a month as punishment for destroying property not on a training field. You told her that, yes?"

Nemuri chuckled to herself, before smiling. "Of course. In other news, Bakugo's paralyzed from the waist down now. He won't ever walk again. Not without some sort of Quirk assistance. Recovery Girl is doing the best she can, but it'll take years of constant use of her Quirk every day to get him walking again. And Dr. Tomioka went MIA, so it's not like we can call upon him to heal Bakugo," Nemuri said, earning a raised eyebrow from Aizawa.

"MIA? What do you mean?" Aizawa questioned with curiosity in his tone of voice.

"It's happened before," Nemuri replied with a shrug." There were times when he'd disappear for a few months, then come back looking a little different. Like, more muscular and stuff. It's in his contract with the hospital he works at and owns that he's allowed to take a couple of months' break once every two years. I guess that's what's going on now, taking his legally allowed break," As Nemuri said that, she frowned.

"What I find strange, though, is that he's dropped contact with everyone. Honestly, I don't blame him. Sometimes people need time to unwind and just want to be left alone. I'd take those kinds of long breaks if I could," Nemuri explained as Aizawa's eyes narrowed.

"What about his patients? I'm sure he has a lot of them. How can he justify jumping ship for a few months when they're at risk of potentially dying without his treatments?" Aizawa asked as Nemuri crossed her arms.

"Don't know. I guess that he has some sort of contingency for when he leaves. Probably a replacement doctor or doctors. And it's not like he does this every year, it's every couple of years. Besides, you can't judge, you're the opposite and never take breaks, grumpypants," Nemuri commented as Aizawa grumbled, tuning her out.

"Whatever, that's not the point. Now, what about Final Exams? Bakugo was supposed to be paired up with Midoriya. Now that he can't, what do we do now?" Aizawa questioned as Nemuri smirked.

"You know that boy you've been training in private?" Nemuri said as Aizawa frowned, turning to face her.

"How'd you know about that?" Aizawa interrogated, causing Nemuri to smirk.

"Students crack under pressure when they're being stared down by a pro hero, Sho. I asked the kid, and I know your class is becoming a Stand User central hub, but considering the fact that Midoriya is going to be going up against her in place of All Might, I think balancing the playing field a little would help. Besides, it's the kind of Stand that would allow them to win. She's a bit much, don't you think?" Nemuri said as Aizawa frowned.

"I don't want any more Stand Users in my class, Nem. That'd make it half of the class being Stand Users, and that's going to cause problems in the future. The class is already divided enough as it is, adding another one to the mix is only going to attract more problems, literally and figuratively. That, and the kid isn't ready yet. He's not caught up to snuff with everyone else of 1 – A. He'll have to wait," Aizawa replied, making Nemuri frown.

"Well… maybe do some rearranging. Have Yoshihara take me on solo, and add Kujo to Midoriya's team. Besides, even with my Quirk, I can't take on two Stand Users solo. That's just cruel," Nemuri countered. Aizawa, for his part, hummed to himself, stroking his chin in thought. It wasn't a bad idea per se, and it would even the playing field.

Star and Stripe's Quirk was extremely strong. It could alter reality for the user so long as she could touch that object and know its name. Afterward, it's free reign. Truly, New Order was something else entirely. However, Aizawa was starting to get worried. All Might hadn't returned any of his messages—not even The Headmasters.

It wasn't as if All Might told them that would be the case, either. He explained that he had business to attend to. That business was something secret that he was not willing to share with anyone. But, at the same time, he also said that he was going to be testing out his healing, albeit slowly, body. Aizawa couldn't blame the man—he had been so sickly looking for years according to the man himself, so suddenly getting a healing body would be like if an old man got back his youth.

However, with that, came problems. Firstly, just what was All Might's business that he was keeping secret? How long could he last in his newly acquired muscle form? How much longer would All Might be gone for? And more importantly…. Was he alright?

Aizawa wasn't stupid. All Might had been feeling some sort of immense guilt over something. Honestly, Aizawa didn't know why. It wasn't as if he had done anything wrong, so what would be the point of feeling guilty? Did he perhaps feel responsible for Ida's death? If so, why?

So many questions, so few answers, and it was getting to Aizawa. Alas, there wasn't much the man could do. All he could do was wait. Wait until Toshinori Yagi returns from his little journey.

"What the hell are you doing, Yagi?" Aizawa thought, before sighing. He needed to get back on topic—Final Exams and partners. "Alright, then that'll be that. Kujo will be part of Midoriya's team, and Kira will be taking you on alone. Now, when are Bakugo's parents going to be here? I need to have a talk with them about their son…" Aizawa drawled as Nemuri smiled, looking over her shoulder with an almost suffocatingly innocent until proven guilty aura surrounding her.

"Well… how about… right now?"

"WHERE IS THAT BRAT?!" A loud, booming, gruff but feminine voice echoed throughout the hallway as Nemuri chuckled to herself, silently bidding Aizawa farewell, leaving the man to the wolves. Or in this case, a clearly pissed-off blonde woman who had an uncanny resemblance to Katsuki Bakugo—which made sense, considering she was his mother, but still.

Aizawa groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Today was going to be a long one, wasn't it?