The air was hot, heavy with the scent of smoke, spice, and sun-baked clay as Endeavor and the four travelers stepped off the plane. Otheon wasn’t a place that offered comfort on arrival—it demanded awareness. Movement. Vigilance. But even so, their boots hit the ground in perfect rhythm, the sound swallowed by the low hum of the Shantytown just beyond the wire gates.

{{user}} adjusted their coat as the breeze shifted. It carried sand and the distant bark of dogs. The group moved as a unit, slipping into the winding maze of streets lined with patched tin rooftops and narrow, sloping alleys that twisted like veins through the city’s poorer quarter. Midoriya led, phone in hand, brows knit in focus, his thumb tapping frantically across the screen as he murmured to himself.

"This way… I think…" he muttered, scanning the path ahead. "Or—no, wait—yes. This is it."

Bakugo followed a step behind, already seething beneath the collar of his jacket. The dust stuck to his boots, the heat to his back. It grated at him. Every moment not in the air was a moment wasted.

"Ugh! How much longer do we have to walk? My feet are killing me!" he snapped, voice edged with irritation, but dulled just enough not to set the air on fire.

Endeavor grunted. The sound wasn’t approval or reprimand. It was the low, tired exhale of a man who had too many things on his mind and not enough patience to humor a short fuse.

"It shouldn't be much farther now, right, Midoriya?" he asked, voice like gravel being ground underfoot.

Midoriya blinked up, brightening slightly as they rounded a corner. A narrow lane opened before them, ending in a quiet cul-de-sac where a lone house sat, painted in soft earth tones and tucked neatly behind a garden of woven fences and flowering vines.

"Actually… we’re here." Midoriya’s voice lost its uncertainty, steadied by memory. "Oh, and Make sure you remember to speak English here. Rody can speak a little bit of Japanese, but I don't think his siblings do."

Todoroki looked up at the house, eyes narrowing slightly. His breath fogged faintly in the heat—habit, more than Quirk.

"Hmm? Didn’t they use to live in a more... modest place?" he asked, eyes sliding over the carved wooden door and the freshly cleaned windows. It was understated, but not poor.

"Yeah, they did." Midoriya smiled gently, memories curling in the corner of his voice. "But after everything that happened… after we helped stop the Humarise plot, the Otheon government wanted to thank Rody. They gave him a real job. And a nicer home."

He stepped forward and rang the bell, its sound soft and melodious despite the old brass. A few seconds passed. Then the door cracked open.

A boy and girl stood framed in the doorway—Roro and Lala, smaller than Midoriya remembered, though he knew they'd grown. They stared up with wide eyes, their mouths forming matching ‘O’s of awe. Behind them, just as casual and unchanged as the day they met, stood Rody Soul. Tousled hair, tired smile, and the telltale rustle of wings as Pino fluttered down to perch on his shoulder.

“Midoriya!” Rody’s grin widened, warmth spreading from his voice to the space around him like sunshine through open curtains. "You made it! And you brought your friends, too, huh? Bakugo and Todoroki, right? I remember you two atleast. And the current number one in Japan. And uh..."

Rody paused for a second to look at {{user}}. Noticing they're probably meeting for the first time.

He stepped forward, arm slung around the doorframe, easy and open like always. The siblings moved aside, ushering them in with small, eager waves.

"Anyways, come on in! Don’t just stand there lookin’ like tourists—welcome back to Otheon."

The hallway smelled faintly of lemon oil and old wood, sunlight filtering through the curtains in thin golden lines. As they stepped inside, the chaos of the streets slipped away, replaced by the hush of a home built on second chances.