Top pic credit: unknown. Tell me if you know

Ari POV:

•BREAKING NEWS:
Number Three Pro Hero of Japan, Best Jeanist, Has Officially Been Reported As Missing By The Hero Commission.

•LIVE COVERAGE:
Heroes And Officials Search Tirelessly To Find Vanished Pro Hero, Best Jeanist, After He Was Reported Missing, By His Sidekicks, In The Early Hours of This Morning •

•STAY TUNED:
Special Pre-Recorded Interview With The Number Two Pro Hero, Hawks, With A Message For All The Kids Watching At Home: "Stay cool and in school, little birdies! Life's a ride and ya just gotta enjoy it. I know I do!"•

I tuned out the sounds of the television, currently playing in the corner of the room...keeping my guard up as I slowly surveyed the area for any potential dangers.

"Hourglass. Come in, Hourglass. This is Eraserhead. What's your status? Over." I heard through my earpiece, as I continued walking through the, mysteriously abandoned, swanky apartment of Best Jeanist.

"Hourglass copies, Eraser. Here's the situation I've got so far...no signs of foul play. Don't worry, we won't touch anything, so the cops can take a look when they get here. But, either way....you sent the two of us here to check for any lagging villains, and I've found none so far. But, give us a few more minutes just to make sure." I mumbled into my mic, quickly muting my earpiece so I could focus on my walk through of the apartment.

I jumped slightly upon hearing a small crash come from the bedroom.

"Oh shit." I hissed, quickly outstretching my hand so I'd be able to activate my quirk any second.

"What's going on in there?" I called out loudly, getting into my fight stance as I waited for the culprit to start speaking.

"H-Huh? Oh. Sorry, Hourglass. I-I accidentally knocked over a lamp. I didn't mean to." Tamaki Amajiki uttered quietly from inside Jeanist's bedroom, causing me to sigh in relief as I immediately powered down my quirk.

"Ah. No worries, Suneater. How's it going in there, anyways? Find anything suspicious?" I asked from the living room, hearing Tamaki rustling things around in the bedroom.

"Unfortunately, no. Everything looks completely fine in here. I don't get it. Nothing's been broken. Doesn't look like anything's been robbed. I-I've just about finished up my part of the search. It's villain free from what I can see." He stated softly, crouching down to take one last look under the bed.

I groaned tiredly, feeling my shoulders slump deflatedly at Tamaki's words. I simply nodded in acknowledgement, furrowing my brows in determination as I decided to look for a few clues, myself. This will probably be the only time I'll be allowed in here, once the police take over the apartment.

Tamaki and I have been searching Jeanist's place for over an hour now. You better believe that when Aizawa offered me the chance to have first dibs at investigating the apartment for villains, as a learning experience, I took it faster than that 1-A handsy kid with the glasses can run.

The odd, eery disappearance of Best Jeanist has left everyone in the hero world, and all civilians, completely and utterly shocked.

According to his sidekicks, Best Jeanist hasn't actually been heard from for three days. Knowing it wasn't like him to ignore phone calls and miss important deadlines at his hero agency, they decided to stop by his place to check up on him.

But, he was never found here.

He's not at his usual spots. His credit cards haven't been used. And the thing that was most interesting...

Was that the security cameras at his apartment complex were taken out, simultaneously, about three nights ago. The same night he's thought to have disappeared.

Assuming Jeanist didn't just blatantly run away and desert his hero duties, there's a high chance that he was the target of a villain attack. This means that someone must have had it out for him.

But, why?

And who?

He's been away from the public eye for too long to have made any new enemies. The whole situation is very fishy, and I don't understand it.

But, I am very worried. Jeanist is a good guy. He's my friend, and I want-no....need him to be okay.

Letting out a small sigh of concern, I continued slowly walking around the apartment, keeping my eyes peeled for any clues that would indicate to me what might have happened here.

I didn't want to give up so easily. I didn't want to give up on Jeanist so easily.

So, let's see if I can piece the situation together.

The front door. It's not bashed in or tampered with, meaning there probably wasn't a forced entry.

From what I can see...there's no blood. But, that might be proven differently once forensics takes a closer look at the floors and walls. It's not as if villains can't clean up after themselves.

I turned towards the kitchen, narrowing my eyes at the sight of the counter.

Two cups...both filled with untouched, now cold, green tea.

Two cups...

Must mean someone else was, indeed, here.

And because there's no forced entry into the apartment....there's a good chance this person was someone that Jeanist knew.

And he must have known them relatively well if he's letting them inside the personal confines of his home.

Did this mystery person leave their fingerprints behind on the tea cup? Who knows. Maybe they did. Makes me wonder what else they may have left behind. Guess the forensics team will know in a couple days-

My brows raised in curiosity as I noticed something very small on the wall of the opposite side of the room, causing me to quickly walk over and check it out.

It's a.....hole?-no, a puncture in the wall. It's very tiny.

Someone must have stabbed the wall with something.

But....

The stab mark was made in a place that's just barely above my own eye level. It's too high up to have hit the stomach or other internal organs of someone with Jeanist's height.

I mean....I guess the person could have stabbed him in the head, but...once again...there's absolutely no blood surrounding the puncture mark.

This person was taught how to clean up their evidence well.

I pursed my lips in thought, resisting the urge to trace along the stabbed wall with my fingers. I didn't want to tamper with the evidence.

"Hm. Where are you, friend? Where did you go?" I whispered to myself, feeling seriously concerned and nervous for whatever situation happened here with Best Jeanist.

At a first glance....it all seemed peaceful and pretty nonchalant. There's nothing gruesome or murderous about this case on the outside.

But, the more I surveyed the scene of Jeanist's apartment...the more I tried to imagine what happened here a few days ago....

...and the more scary it became.

It seems as if someone came to visit Jeanist at his own home. He recognized this person, let them in because he trusted them...offered them tea....and was somehow betrayed by them in the end.

I narrowed my eyes at a cluster of books that were lying on the floor, near the coffee table. Judging by their position on the ground, it looks as if these books were knocked off the table, during a possible...scuffle.

The couch pillows were still in their position on the couch-but, at a closer glance....these pillows are noticeably smushed in and somewhat crinkled. It's as if someone was...stepping on them.

Was there a fight?

Did Jeanist fight this person?

Why is there no blood?

Come on, Ari. Think. Think like the villain.

If this were villain me who had attacked Jeanist, I actually would have taken a similar approach to this person, thanks to my training with the hero commission. Pretend to be friendly and trustworthy, only so I could stab him in the back. Catch him off guard that way. Make him think you're on his side, so it's easier to kill him quickly.

But, the hero commission also taught me about good clean up. And by that, I mean that I wouldn't have even thought about actually killing Jeanist in his own apartment, because there's no guarantee that I will be able to clean my evidence well enough. Blood is a difficult thing to make disappear, no matter how well you think you've cleaned it.

Based on what I've learned from Diane about covering my tracks, I would have knocked out Jeanist here and taken his unconscious body somewhere else to kill him.

I also wouldn't have left these books scattered on the floor. I wouldn't have made a stab mark in the wall. And I would have emptied the tea cups in the sink, without leaving my fingerprints, and placed them back in the cupboards to hide any further evidence that I was here.

The person who may have done something to Jeanist seems to have done a decent job at making themselves unknown-Taking out security cameras. Keeping the apartment pretty clean.

They seem like the type of person who's done this sort of thing before-or, at least has the knowledge on how to do it. And because of that, they seem like the type to do the things I just said-get rid of the teacups. Clean up the scattered books, etc.

So, the fact that they didn't do this part....

Makes me wonder if they were in a hurry. Or....were they unstable when this whole thing went down? Were they in too much distress to see the blatant pieces of evidence they left right here in this apartment?

Or, did they just not care if they got caught?

I don't know. But man, do I wish I did.

I want to know what happened the night Best Jeanist went missing.

And I won't stop until I find out.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I felt a migraine forming, deciding to pull my phone out to see if Jeanist had magically decided to text me at this moment to say that he's perfectly alive and well.

Even though I didn't actually expect such a thing, I still felt bummed out when I didn't see any messages from Jeanist.

Just a few texts from Nejire asking me if Tamaki and I have found anything yet.

Quickly shooting Nejire a text to let her know I'll talk later, I couldn't help but hesitantly navigate my message screen to the other person, besides Jeanist, who's been on my mind for a bit.

Keigo.

I pursed my lips in dissatisfaction as I looked at the very small string of messages that I've sent him over the past few days. I didn't send him too many. I know he's got his hands full, and I'm not the clingy type.

But....it's been awhile since he responded to anything. And I guess, I just wanna make sure he's okay and alive, for that matter. I haven't heard from him since he had that meeting with Dabi, and that was like three days ago.

It worries me. I don't have a good feeling.

Before I knew it, my fingers had already started to type out another message to my mock fiancée, knowing that my worries were definitely getting the better of me.

Text Message To: Bird Boy 🐥🔥

Know you're busy. Just wanna make sure you're okay....so are you okay?
9:34 am.

My eyes blankly read over the mediocre message once more, before my thumb quickly tapped the send button....watching another unread message deliver effortlessly to Keigo's phone.

It delivered quickly. So, there's a probable chance...that wherever he is...he's got a good cellphone connection.

I wonder where he is right now.

The soft footsteps walking towards the door of the bedroom subtly perked up my attention.

It's Suneater. He must be completely finished with the bedroom search now.

Putting my phone away, I let out a small grunt of annoyance as I walked my feet forward...dragging my gaze up towards the ceiling with exasperated frustration that Tamaki and I didn't find anything-

Crunch.

I stopped in my tracks upon barely hearing a soft crunch sound from under my boot.

Furrowing my brows in confusion, I barely hovered my foot off the ground, taking a look at the floor below to see if I had accidentally stepped on something.

But, the floor was clean. There was nothing there.

That's weird. I could have sworn I heard a crunch-

"R-Ready to go then, Hourglass?" Tamaki asked me from the doorway of Jeanist's room, giving me a soft apologetic look to say he's sorry for not finding any evidence.

Don't be sorry, Tamaki. I didn't find anything, either.

I smiled tiredly, giving him a small nod of empty reassurance.

"Yeah. We've done about all we can do for now, I guess. Thanks for volunteering yourself to come with me today." I said softly, giving him a slight pat on the back as we both made it to the front door.

Tamaki smiled sheepishly, quickly pulling his hood over his eyes.

"Oh? A-Ah, it's not a problem. I....I figured you'd rather have me as your search partner, instead of some random hero you don't know. As if searching for the missing number three isn't stressful enough....then you'd have to make small talk with a stranger, too. Phew, I couldn't even imagine." The shy boy whispered warily, shivering slightly at the thought of having to socialize and work at the same time.

I let out a small, distant chuckle as Tamaki and I finally reached the doorway, slowly turning around for the last time to get a look at Jeanist's living room.

My eyes went blank with hard thought as I tried to imagine Jeanist standing here....unable to imagine the second mystery person who would have been standing in front of him.

"Hourglass. Did you hear me? Give me your status, before I barge in there to make sure you and Suneater are okay." I heard crackling through my earpiece, the stern tone of Aizawa's voice quickly bringing me back.

Snapping out of my deep thoughts, I hesitantly turned my attention back towards the front door, before finally walking out of Best Jeanist's apartment with Suneater.

"Hourglass copies, Eraser. The very first search of the premise, carried out by Suneater and I, has now officially been completed. The place is villain free. Police are cleared to enter the apartment of Best Jeanist and check for evidence. Over and out."

************************************************

I sighed tiredly as I made the trek down the UA hallway, to my dorm room...not even realizing the sun had long gone down, until now.

I've been working all day with Aizawa, Tamaki, and a few others, trying to track the whereabouts of Best Jeanist. But....no traces of him have been found. Anywhere.

The security cameras that were destroyed at his apartment complex were taken out beyond repair, according to the electrician-just another clear sign that whoever made Jeanist disappear, clearly had every intention of doing so, from the very start.

Pulling out my phone once more, my face went a bit sour when I saw the only message I had was from Mr. A, asking me if I took the other half of his sandwich from the school fridge.

......and, I mean.....really, that's not the issue here......

I say I'm not clingy, yet I couldn't stop my fingers from navigating their way back to Keigo's message box....scoffing slightly with annoyance (but...really...just worry) at the fact that he hasn't answered me in almost four days now.

I just want something. One word is fine. A thumbs up. Just something to know he's okay.

But...there's been nothing.

Ah, that's just the way it is, I guess. It's not as if he works an average desk job. I get it.

Knowing it would be pointless to send another text, I closed my phone with a huff...more than happy to pull out the keys to my dorm room, walk in, and go right to sleep.

I've been working non stop all day. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm cranky. But mostly....I'm just....well, all three of those things are pretty equal, actually. And let's be honest, it's not as if half a sandwich is enough to fill anyone up.

I entered the pitch black dorm room, barely bothering to turn on the light as I slammed the door shut behind me and made a beeline straight for my bed.

Too tired to remove my suit and my boots, I plopped down face first on the mattress, letting out a loud groan of exasperation as the soles of my feet dangled in the air.

Curse the pillows for still smelling faintly of Keigo. You chicken bastard.....I swear, if you're actually dead this time, I'm gonna kill you, dude.

My thoughts ended up forcing my exhausted body to become wide awake, as I lifted my face from the pillow....opting to rest my chin atop my hands, as I stared into the full length body mirror directly in front of me.

Still lying on my stomach...my knees took a deeper bend into the mattress, letting the bottoms of my booted feet dangle high in the air above my head.

I puffed out my cheeks as I absentmindedly stared into the mirror, involuntarily knocking the sides of my boots together in anxious boredom.

Only I stopped moving my feet after a few moments....noticing something small stuck to the bottom of my boot, thanks to the reflection of the mirror.

It's black. Kinda shiny.

"Fucking rocks." I groaned out in annoyance, with no one in particular, reluctantly sitting up at the edge of my bed to let my feet touch the ground.

I harshly dragged my boot across the wood floor of my dorm room, trying to get the lodged rock out from the bottom of my shoe.

But, I immediately stopped in my tracks when I heard a small crunching sound come from the object instead.

Wait....

That was the same type of crunching sound I heard at Jeanist's place, earlier today. When I thought I stepped on something, but I didn't see anything on the floor.

And now, I know why I didn't see anything on the floor.

It's because whatever I stepped on, must have stuck to the bottom of my shoe instead.

And it must be stuck in there pretty good if it's lasted in my boot all day long.

Looks like I'll have to pull it out, myself.

Resting my foot atop my other knee, I quickly located the black, shiny object that was lodged in my shoe..grabbing it from the sides and starting to tug.

Hm. The edges still feel like a rock. But, it blends right in with the color of my shoe, which makes it hard to see what it is.

I furrowed my brows in concentration as the object refused to budge, gripping it harder and giving it a good yank.

Luckily, I have good boots on...because whatever this is, it seems to have pierced my shoe.

"Come on." I muttered out in annoyance, finally feeling the object starting to come out of my boot.

The more I pulled on it, I saw it had a sharp, silver, needle-like end, before the object came free completely.

Holding the item between my fingers....I finally got a look at what it was.

It was an earring.

A black stud earring. An earring that I immediately recognized, because I've seen it everyday for the past eight months.

I felt my breathing stop. Probably my heart, too, as I blankly and emotionlessly stared at the earring between my fingers.

Suddenly, I wish I could take it all back. I wish I didn't go to Jeanist's apartment today. I wish I would have never recognized that there was something in my shoe. But, most of all, I wish I didn't know....

That this earring belongs to Keigo Takami.