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“What is this?” Tomura demanded.
Compress set his hand on the crying woman’s shoulder—more a show of power than of comfort. “She came up and knocked on the door, but couldn’t give us a good reason for it. Just said she was looking for someone.”
“So why didn’t you just kill her?” Tomura said, raising his hand.
Just then the woman looked up, and her white hair parted to show her eyes. “Touya?” she asked, “Is that really you?”
“No,” Tomura said, reaching to touch her.
The woman stepped back out of the way. “No—but it has to be you. Your hair is the same, your skin’s all messed up—and I followed you here from my house. I followed you here.”
“No you didn’t,” Tomura said, but he was puzzled now. He could figure out what this woman’s ploy was before he killed her. “I’ve been in my room all day.”
“Don’t you know me?” she continued, wringing her hands, “It’s me—It’s me, Fuyumi. And there was someone in the house earlier. I heard footsteps upstairs, and when I check somebody had put in the code for the front door. But Dad is at work, and Natsuo and Shouto are at school, and Mom is...so I knew it. I followed your car here. Did you forget? Is that why you didn’t come home?”
“Is she crazy?” Tomura asked. He hated to consider it, but maybe this was a villain who Kurigori had sent to join him. If she’d lost it bad enough, maybe she’d forgotten why she was coming on the way here. He looked around—Spinner and Toga were here too, but they were busy playing checkers. Neither of them looked up to answer.
“We all thought that you died,” Fuyumi said, wiping her face with her sleeve. “Touya—we used to play together. You’d catch ladybugs and put them on my ear. You wanted to be a hero.”
“Put her in a marble,” Tomura told Compress, “We should wait for Kurogiri to get back before we kill her.”
“I’ll tell you a secret,” the girl said. It was his sister. In one hand she pulled out a drawer, reached into it and pulled out a paper.
In her other hand, she held his.
“Look,” she said, holding out the paper.
He took it from her hand, and when his fingers touched it didn’t fall apart. On the paper was a picture, a photo of a woman in a hero costume.
“That’s grandma,” his sister said, pointing down at the woman’s smiling face, “Hey—keep a secret for me? Let’s be heroes together.”
Tomura sat down on the couch. Across from him, Fuyumi had been released from the marble and tied to a chair. Her eyes were still red rimmed—for her, barely any time had passed.
“Okay,” Tomura said, hands held in front of him. Ever since he’d woken from his nap, he wasn’t quite sure how to hold them. He’d already dusted a blanket, a cup, and his favorite game controller. That was the point where he’d had to admit the dream he’d just had was really messing with him.
“Will you really kill me?” Fuyumi asked, much calmer than Tomura expected.
“Maybe,” Tomura said, leaning forward, “Tell me what you’re doing here—again from the top.”
Kurogiri had returned while he was sleeping. Tomura found him in the room behind the bar.
“Nomu used to be dead,” Tomura started. He wasn’t sure where he was going, only that there was something growing inside him that he needed to say.
Closing the fridge, Kurogiri turned to him. “As far as I am aware, yes.”
“But normally they’re stupid,” Tomura said, “Not even like an NPC—like a monster you can summon on your side. Do they have to be that way?”
“I’m not sure,” Kurogiri said. He was back at the table now, reaching into a bag to remove more groceries, “My task isn’t to study the nomu.”
“Could you bring somebody back that way, if they died?” Tomura continued, “If they were burned up. Could you put enough pieces of somebody else in them that they could still think like a player character?”
Kurogiri looked up at him, cans of something still in his formless hands. “My task is only to guard you.”
Tomura decayed the rope tying Fuyumi down. Then he had Kurogiri get her a drink. He half expected her to refuse it—but she chugged it in one go.
“It’s been quite a day,” Fuyumi said, laughing, “I never thought I’d see you again. I’m glad you didn’t kill me.”
“What’s going on?” Toga asked, tilting her head to consider Fuyumi.
“This is my sister,” Tomura said, gesturing at her, “Treat her like one of us.”
Fuyumi put her glass down, put her hand on Tomura’s shoulder. “Come home, Touya,” she said. “My car is still outside.”
“No!” Tomura blurted, jerking away. He was half surprised at the suddenness of his own reaction. Then he said, “I’m never going back to that house.”
Fuyumi sighed. That was why he found himself trusting her. Something about her brought back memories he didn’t know he had buried. And she seemed to recognize them better than he did.
“I understand,” Fuyumi said finally, “Natsuo is also that way. If you don’t want to see Dad again—that’s fine.”
A shiver went down Tomura’s spine. No, he didn’t want to see that man again.
“But would you let me call Natsuo and Shouto?” she continued.
Fuyumi started a group call. Natsuo was just some random guy. But as it turned out, Shouto was one of the hero course students the league had tried to kill a month or so ago.
“I just can’t believe it,” Shouto said. In one of the small boxes of video on Fuyumi’s phone screen, Touya could see that he was sitting with his hands steepled in front of his face. “You’re telling me that not only is Touya not dead—he’s also a dangerous villain who wants to kill me and my friends? That's crazy! I can't believe my brother is a villain.”
“I’m sure of it,” Fuyumi said. She was smiling. “There’s nobody else who knows the code to get into our house.”
“I’m going to destroy it,” Tomura said, “I’ll destroy everything beginning with that house.”
Natsuo pulled out his phone—he must have joined the call from his computer. “Fuyumi, do you have your location turned on?”
Tomura reached out and decayed Fuyumi’s phone.
“Hey!” Fuyumi yelped. Then she looked puzzled. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t have my old fire quirk,” Tomura said, “When the doctor makes nomu, he changes their quirks around.”
Fuyumi nodded. “I understand—it’s just ashes now.”
The door opened, and Dabi sauntered in. He made like he was going to just walk by them to a back room—then he saw Fuyumi and stopped in his tracks.
“Oh,” Tomura said, standing up, “Dabi, make sure you don’t hurt this woman. She’s my sister.”
Fuyumi stood and bowed. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“What?” Dabi said, looking frantically between the two of them.