Chapter Text
Principal Nedzu disappeared on a Thursday. The staff hadn’t noticed until the following Monday. It took too long to notice. Friends and coworkers had been concerned about his silence but given the recent events of the USJ they’d assumed he’d gone on one.
One of the times when his brain would run wild and untamed for days on end only for him to come crashing down later. Maybe his mind had gone wild trying to find the attackers. Try as he might, he wasn’t human. His friends knew him to be territorial. His staff knew him to be possessive. His personal students knew him to be vicious when someone attacks what he considers his.
Attacking his school.
Attacking his staff.
Attacking his students.
Attacking his personal students.
It wasn’t a wonder why they thought his mind had ran wild. They were right. His mind had been wild. But honestly he’d left his home to get some fresh air, grab some of that lovely tea from the hole in the wall cafe. He hadn’t meant to cause any chaos. Really he hadn’t! Unlike most times he actually had better things to do that needed to be done.
So he’d been confused when a fog started to form in his brain. He’d felt weird… fuzzy. Soon enough nausea and dizziness settled in. He couldn’t walk anymore. Not really. Stumbling into an alley away from people like his instincts screamed at him to find his nest. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it to his home- not the cafe. No. Instead something heavy settled in his gut, his nose suddenly became stuffy, he could feel his body turning on him, giving twitches to his digits, he’d dropped to the cold floor at some point he was sure. He doesn’t even remember that-
He doesn’t remember much.
The fog is growing thicker and thicker, coming up to the ends of his mind and engulfing whatever it reaches. Of course scenarios run rampant through his mind, as blurred and distorted as they are- a villain? Or a random quirk accident?
He isn’t sure. He isn’t sure of much anymore. He isn’t sure of where he is, he isn’t sure of what he does. He… used to teach right? He taught people?.. people..?
Someone had to find him right? Maybe.. his friends?.. maybe his students? He had those… right?
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Cars pass rapidly by the mouth of the alleyway, from both sides, people are walking too, to and from their destinations. No one notices the struggling U.A. Principal.
No one notices. The dark clouds rolling in and the sun escaping, many people have far more important places to be.
No one pays any mind with the sight of the stumbling principal. It’s a very small concern. Maybe this is just him normally? Maybe he’s a little overwhelmed? Maybe he’s just doing his job? They aren’t too sure. Those that do notice, few and far between have nothing to voice. He’s acting weird but he’s an animal. Why would he act human?
And so, people go on about their day.
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He doesn’t remember much. Not really. He isn’t sure how long he’s been in the… alleyway ..? Is that what it’s called again?
His breathing is labored, he knows. Fabric on his body feels loose, he’s laying down now, he’s found himself inside a fallen box, its shelter or as much as he can find right now and he’s in no state to go looking for better. Sure maybe the sky gets dark, maybe he growls at the nightlife that think he’s easy pickings- but he has friends right?? They should be looking-
He hopes they are.
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The Staff of U.A. are far too busy licking their wounds to notice their missing boss. Two colleagues almost died as did nearly 20 students. No one was around to realize his absence.
Earserhead is unconscious still. His body wrapped in casts and bandages. He’d been lucky to survive.
Thirteen was unconscious,they were being treated for their injury. As severe as it was it would be healed by Recovery Girl soon enough. No permanent damage.
A man known as Yagi Toshinor was being treated too. His time for heroics is cut short yet again. He’s running out of time.
Present Mic is too busy at his husband’s side, waiting for him to wake up, watching the man covered in bandages.
Recovery Girl is going between her three patients. She’s left doing paper work and scolding a dumb blond. Calling up a retired friend of hers to show up to (Hopefully) beat it into him.
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It’s cold. It’s cold and wet. He’s tired. He’s dirty. He wants to be warm. He wants to get up. That’s all he has to do. Get his stupid deformed body to move! But he’s just so tired. He.. can’t really think anymore. He hates it. He despises it. He hates this entire thing. There’s a deep fog in his mind now. He’s forgetting something. Something important. But he can’t tell what it is.
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He can feel the water now. The box? He’s in a box right? He can feel it sag, he can feel the water drip onto his now dirty fur coat. He shouldn’t be here- he should be warm! He should be huddled up with many brothers and sisters! His kin! He should be huddled with them! He should be huddled up to his doe! His littermates have to miss him right!? They have to notice!
But… what if he doesn’t have them? He must do! He’s never heard of it being otherwise! But he’s alone now isn’t he? He can hardly open his eyes. His head is killing him, it feels heavy and clogged, it hurts.
He wants his doe-
He wants his littermates-
He wants his MOTHER-
He feels his breath become more rugged, he was cold. He was cold and wet, worst yet he couldn’t get warm. The loud bangs and flashes from above made him tremble. It made him tuck his paws under his chest, his soaked fur doing nothing to keep him warm. He wasn’t sure what more he could do. His direct shelter wasn’t shelter anymore, it was damp and smelly, droplets already started to fall on his small shaking form. His legs where already as close to his body as he could manage, his tail while shaking had curled around him, in a rather pathetic attempt to both warm and soothe himself.
He’s cold. He’s so very cold, shaking like a leaf and flinching at every loud sound and flash of light from the thunder above.
He’s tired. His eyes feel heavy. His head hurts and he doesn’t know why.
Maybe… maybe a little rest doesn’t sound too bad. Right?
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He wasn’t sure how long he had slept for. He couldn’t tell. Hardly able to open his eyes he’s greeted by a shadow. A silhouette he can’t make out. But it’s close. Incredibly so.
He can’t find it in himself to move. Too tired and too wet to fight him off, all he can do is let out a meek mewl of a protest.
Warm long appendages are wrapping around him. Soft fabric is pulled around him. His own soft fabric left behind in the sad excuse for a nest. He’s pressed against a warm body, something is holding him there. Shielding him.
It has to be Mother .
It must be!
No one else would shield a kit not belonging to them.
It just doesn’t happen.
His Mother has come for him.
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There’s something warm and wet against his fur, soft and gentle, dragging over his body, not too rough. Not too soft.
Grooming. Yes. That must be it.
He whines at it, he can’t help it, he’s already wet enough! But at least he’s warm now? Oh! There’s no more water on him! At least falling on him. So they must’ve made it to their den. Yes. They must’ve.
So for now, for now he’ll bury his face and inch his body ever close to the larger being next to him.
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Honestly he wasn’t even looking for trouble! He was just simply popping to a corner shop for some emergency noodles. That’s it. It was storming outside, pouring it down, he was sure he would get a cold but… it’s not like he had much food in.
No, instead he found himself standing there, with a shitty plastic bag, looking at a sunken box in some no name alleyway next to the aforementioned corner shop. He had heard mewling. It wasn’t an adult, he couldn’t- shouldn’t bring cats back. Heaven knows if Inko found out she’d kill the both of them.
But, the dirty white fur, almost a grey-brown with the grime it was covered in, kept shaking. And honestly he felt sorry for it. Crouching down to get a better look you can imagine his surprise when it’s not a cat. Or at least it doesn’t look like a cat. Not entirely. It’s small, skinny and shaking like a leaf.
He can’t help but to move an arm out, the animal startles, and he stops, he lets it relax again- although relax may be the wrong word, it looks far too exhausted to put up any sort of fight. But nevertheless he finds himself shifting the plastic bag onto the cold and wet concrete floor, scooping up the creature gently, it’s soaked. It has to be sick.
Shit .
He gently pulls it in, holding it to his chest. Grabbing his plastic bag he pulls himself back up, of course the creature startles a little but quickly settles, choosing to nuzzle in on Izuku’s shoulder.
Honestly he hopes he can at least keep the not- kitten for a little while at least.
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UA always has meetings at the start of the week. Every Monday during the students' scheduled lunch hour. Every teacher is present, from those as unknown as Earserhead to those as praised as All Might. Everyone is seated. Everyone is waiting. Waiting for a dramatic moment when his boss leaps down from the vent, from a loose panel on the ceiling, hell some even pray he walks in like a person instead of trying to become a cryptid!
Yet there’s nothing.
Snipe is beginning to fidget with his red cloak, Nezu being late is unheard of. Recovery Girl is left grumbling about the ‘overgrown rat’s dramatics’, though there’s a tone of worry.
LunchRush is busy handing out food, although he usually gets an overview of the meeting, or just gets a one on one meeting with Nezu to discuss it. Hopefully it’s the former this week.
Cementoss is discussing with Ectoplasm the ethics of leaving your boss on read. Though both know the Local Overlord™ would get them back five times as hard.
All Might, Yagi Toshinori is reading, surprisingly but disappointingly it’s ‘Teaching For Dummies’. He isn’t looking forward to the scolding he will no doubt be getting from Mr. Principal.
Anan Kurose, however, is absent. Deciding to let their back rest for a bit more. Not that the staff blame them. Their spine was exposed.
Vlad King and Midnight are discussing in hushed tones. Far too scared of their shared boss hearing them and deciding to give them hell for it in very minor, non-complainable ways.
Unfortunately their… hushed whispers could be heard by all in attendance.
Aizawa Shouta, wrapped in bandages, is waiting, he hadn’t heard from the Rat Overlord™ (All hail) in days. Usually he’ll check up on his staff and make sure they’re at least okay, all he got was a; ‘he’s going to be okay Hizashi-Kun.’ And that wasn’t even said to him!
Yamada Hizashi knows there’s something similarly wrong . His mentor hasn’t missed a day from work, not unless he literally couldn’t leave his house due to weather, but it was just a storm. No flooding. At least not where the Rat lives.
It’s Midnight who points out just how long it’s been. “We can leave if it’s fifteen minutes late, right? Isn’t that the rule?”
It’s Hound Dog who asks the dreaded question, the one no one wants to ask but everyone wants to know. “Has anybody seen Principal Nezu?”
A weight of uncomfortable silence settles over the meeting room. A beat passes. Two. Then three. Yet no one speaks up.
Shit.
PowerLoader, Higari Maijima, looks up from his data pad, “He hasn’t scanned in his Staff Card either.” He says, voice laced with a wave of confusion mixed with concern.
“Maybe he’s just delayed by a villain attack?” Midnight timidly asks. Because really, that’s the best case scenario.
The only other options are, A. He’s finally kicked the bucket (which would’ve been an absolute delight to the commission but is unlikely. Shouta is pretty sure the Rat lives off hatred others feel for him.), B. Again delayed by a villain attack. (Unlikely. He has the entire city memorized. He would’ve made it on time). Or finally option C. Someone has managed to steal the god damned Rat.
Higari Maijima chooses then to deliver some more news. “His Staff Card hasn’t been swiped since Thursday .”
Shit.
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