The venue hushes as the large suited man entered, his presence alone demanding everyone's attention despite only opening the front door. 

     Perhaps it was the armed guards, or the expensive white suit that seemed to glisten underneath the bright fluorescent lights. Maybe it was his cologne, perhaps his aura. . . or maybe it was his young, attractive heir that walked right alongside him.

     Either way all eyes turned as the two walked, a path forming as the many coated men and women parted like the red sea. 

     "Ah, Mr. Todoroki," The assistant of Dr. Harrison announced coolly, his voice still talking onto the microphone attached to the wooden podium. "Pleasure to finally have you. I take it traffic hasn't been all too forgiving?" A quiet laugh to those who dared laugh, a smug look still on the man's face. The nerve, a doctor awkwardly put on a smile, the image of the entire future of his company slipping right through his hands because he missed this important sponsor. . . all because some assistant of this mysterious Harrison couldn't go two seconds of the man's presence without insulting him. 

     An uncomfortable silence fell over the room, many uneasy glances shared in fear of losing all their jobs just because of this one incident.

     . . .

     As all eyes remained on Enji, it wasn't surprising that no one missed the growing smirk on his face.

     "Snow gives no privilege," His deep voice almost rumbled the entire building, taking a few agonizing moments before anyone could even process the fact that he had said a sentence that didn't threaten even a single one of them.

     Soon laughter fills the walls again, the two special guests heading to sit on one of the reserved seats beside the makeshift stage. "And no truer words have been said," The assistant laughed as well, carrying on with his announcement as per scheduled. 

     "So this is the head of your company's new partnership?" Immediately he got on the subject of business, Harriet stiffening in his seat upon realizing he was the one being addressed. God, in all his years of running this school he never expected to be this nervous again just because of some voice. "No, I'm afraid not," He took a steadying breath, putting on the best customer service smile he could pull off, "This is her assistant, Mr. Whitlock."

     "Well where is she then?" Ah, what a desirable trait, not one for dilly-dallying. "She insists that Mr. Whitlock do the opening remarks, she'll be talking shortly." 

     He looked no doubt disappointed, but nodded and let it slide.

     For now.

     Harriet sighs—quietly, the one thing he didn't want other than sinking entirely being any disrespect he might show to Enji Todoroki, whether accidental or not—chattering as he turns to the man still giving out his speech. Whitlock looked absolutely confident up on that podium, the light bouncing off his glasses giving him an even more intimidating look despite his showed kindness. The man never did have a clue as to why he said yes to their offer for a partnership, all in all they looked shady as hell. They never revealed their plans, showed him just three random vials with hardly any descriptions, a baseless promise for greatness, and a two page document that only recited what they had said in person but on paper, no changes whatsoever. 

     Before he knew it he had said yes, arranging this little get-together last minute for their company's grand introduction. Was it by choice? Was he under a spell or something? He wouldn't be surprised if it just ended up being because he felt threatened to say yes. Either way he had no choice but to listen in on the speech with his uncomfortable thoughts, not a single word passing by his head long enough for him to understand what he was even announcing.

     How much of a mistake was he making?

● ● ●

   "It started a few months back. I was. . . I was at the top of my game mid-semester of college. Life was great until I finally started to realize the problems that started piling. Mom lost her job, dad's still missing and I lost my brother." Elijah looked visibly shaken from the last of that statement, clearing his throat, "Then someone got me a letter. It got mixed up with the dorm next door, and when they gave it to me, I kind of ignored it for a while because I didn't have the energy or motivation to basically do anything."

     You watched with the recorder still in your hand, completely ditching the clipboard and settling with having him explaining everything first, "A few days after that I hit absolute rock bottom. The gravity of my dad's situation hit me, my grieving mother was getting closer and closer to giving up, and I made the stupid mistake of using my brother's old sweater and I-I ended up losing my fucking mind." He looks off, his shoe quietly tapping on the tiles, "The stress from that had my grades slipping, and I lost my chances at a scholarship."

     Somewhere behind you Dabi was quietly—surprisingly—minding his own business, the man no doubt forcing himself to hold his tongue to avoid saying anything stupid. You applauded him for that, but you didn't, because that was kind of the bare minimum. "Anyway after that I finally read the letter, and it was signed by a Mr. Whitlock and had this weird symbol that I later found out was of their uh, lab." He cleared his throat, "Inside was a set of instructions to meet up somewhere. And. . . and. . . keep in mind that I was at a dark place I would never have done this if I wasn't!" He told you, nodding at him as if to tell him that you understood that he kept talking.

     "So. . . So I went there, even with all the red flags."

     "Do you still have this address?" You asked, earning a sad shake of his head, "They asked for the letter back when I met them. Ripped it to shreds and burned it. Took my phone for good measures." He then perks up, just the slightest bit, "But I know the general area! If we can get there, I'm sure I can find something that'll help lead us to their place!" You nod again, and when he didn't continue, you spoke. "Okay so. . . do you remember any names? Maybe the ones you met you there?"

     "Well there was only three of them. Mr. Whitlock, Dr. Santiago and her assistant," You stared in quiet surprise. Even with the bad blood involved he still managed to respect their titles, "Dr. Santiago was uh, in charge of the wing I was assigned to."

     "And what did you do in this wing?" You read from the clipboard. Most of these questions where quite specific, you had to wonder how Layla predicted them. "We worked on a separate project. It was in beta testing still, and a completely different product, but after the failure of our first batch for PtG because we were missing a lot of ingredients, we got to working on Trigger." You raise a brow, that term not at all a familiar one, "PtG?"

     "Short for pituitary gland."

     "Ah." Of course, that was pretty obvious, "What does this Trigger do?" You already had an idea, what with Taneo's explanation like what, yesterday? Or was it two days ago? You weren't sure, time seems to move differently for you.

     "Well uh, to properly explain that I'm going to have to uh. . ." He clears his throat, not really sure how to word it, "Well. . . okay so. . . you believe in the—"

     "Us?" Dabi intervenes, his forefinger raised as a little blue flame cackled on it. You glared at him then at the sprinklers, raising both hands in defeat as he lets it die out.

     That was enough to make Elijah nod, "Yes. Yes exactly! You secrete a special hormone that only your pituitary gland is capable of making, and Dr. Harrison wanted to collect it and see if it had any other special capabilities like enhanced healing or something of the sorts. But. . . she got greedy, and wanted more, so she ordered for something to speed up the process of making it. That's when we discovered Trigger," He bit his tongue, "I don't think the semantics are that important, but long story short it was successful. But because that hormone of yours is responsible for your bodily changes and Trigger was enhancing that," He turns to Dabi, having known that he was one of them, "it basically amplified the worst parts of it."

     He pauses, looking down in thought, before turning back to Dabi, "What are you?"

     "Phoenix," He blissfully ignores the wrong way that question might've sounded without context, "So you can set your body on fire?" He makes a weird noise, shrugging as though thinking about it, "I guess? I can kind of just make it. How is this important?"

     "To make a proper comparison as to what Trigger is capable of doing," Elijah suddenly stands, striding over to the man that towered over him with no signs of anxiety whatsoever, "Go on, make a fire."

     "Okay I don't think we have time to make a damn showcase of our powers," Shigaraki suddenly interrupts, and before anything could escalate you were already dragging Elijah back to his seat, "Okay we can't do that here in Layla's lab or we'd all die from any expenses we might have to pay from damage," You laughed awkwardly, trying to balance the device held in your hand as you pushed the man down by his shoulders the best you could without seeming too forceful, "Moving on, Taneo mentioned something about a blue liquid that apparently they gave to only him. Why is that?"

     From the mention of his name, the journalist perks up, listening to the conversation despite not understanding most of it, "Oh, that's a pretty private one," He sighs, letting you drag him back to his seat with not a single sign of complaint, "I wasn't that high ranking, so a lot of things were kind of kept from me still. But, I heard some scattered talks. Something about altering that one specific hormone, and unlocking. . . something." Elijah shrugs, but it was obvious that he felt more than a little disappointed at the fact that he practically had zero clues as to what that blue thing was. "Maybe. . . what happened after he got it?"

     "Well, Taneo mentioned his power like, changing?" You hesitated, not really sure of the word as you turn to the man in question, "He said he didn't have much of an ability. Just a slot on his chest. After the blue, I'm gonna assume drug, he gained the ability to make camera lenses from any part of his body."

     "Fascinating. . ." He whispers,  nodding as he looked away. But it was pretty obvious, and you tried on a soft smile, before turning to the journalist, "Tokuda-san, is it okay if you show us what you can do?" It didn't take much for him to nod, "Of course," Before extending out a hand with his palm up. Once again a lens pops out, and, though originally only looking up in interest of the Japanese spoken, Elijah's eyes widened instantly as he got up unprompted.

     Walking to it in almost like a daze he carefully holds out a hand, hesitation for the sake of politeness stopping him from just grabbing the man's hand and examining it with all the enthusiasm of a pure-blood nerd. "M. . . may I?" Apparently you didn't need to translate as the man shrugs then nods, letting the scientist grab hold of his hand and almost yanking it off in excitement. "I've never seen something like this before it's almost like an entirely new thing—I-I-I thought this was just supposed to be based on ancestry and mythology! But apparently not! If it was entirely possible for something like this to happen who knows what Dr. Harrison is capable of achieving? Amazing!"

     He goes on for a while, nodding quietly as you set the recorder down the table, near enough to capture his rant, and go over to Dabi. It was pretty clear that he was thinking some stuff, so you simply did nothing but join him as he gazes out the window you haven't even known about.

     "Phoenixes are birds made out of fire. . ." He quietly whispers, only now noticing the intense gaze on his palm. "Uh, yeah," You offered with a raised brow, trying to ignore the obvious looks from Compress and Shigaraki, one less pleasant than the other. "All this time I thought I was just. . . I don't know what I was expecting." He sighs, a mocking part of him starting to realize how stupid he looked just staring at his hand when it wasn't really all that big of a deal. "Oh well potato-tomato, no matter what you are, you're always going to be a walking flamethrower to me."

     "Yeah, and I was never aware that you liked making out with one." Your eyes widened as an audible gasp comes from someone behind you—no doubt Compress—your only savior from both humiliation and attempted murder being the sounds of the doors sliding open as the owner of the place you were crashing in enters.

     "Hey, hey, I got away," She briefly announces, the awkwardness from Elijah coming back in full swing as he sits back on his chair stiffly. Maybe he finally heard himself talking too much about this man's. . . hand cameras and figured out he sounded like he had a screw or two loose. "Hey, glad you're back," You told her, already surprised to find her plugging in headphones to the recorder and listening to it in full volume. You winced from the faint sounds of it through them, slowly nodding and turning away to avoid disturbing her.

     You go back to sulk by the window again, thoughts drifting off to work and the dress you had yet to finish in the back. That thing had hideous sleeves, and you wanted nothing more than to destroy the entire project and start from scratch. For some reason you never realized its faults back when you were working on it, your bored mind being the only thing that had you thinking back to it in the first place. Why were you stressed about that? It's just a dress, and even if you lose this client it'd be their loss.

     . . .

     No, you couldn't think that, this dress was for a girl's Winter Dance. And whether you enjoyed them or not, you couldn't deny the power one can feel from just having a good wardrobe.

     Also because you could lose some reputation points if any bad reviews were left because of your late delivery of the damn thing, and you'd rather not take your chances.

     "Whats up with you and Dabi?" You choked on non existent air as Compress suddenly appears beside you, the man in question being. . . somewhere chatting with Shigaraki. You assumed they were chatting, because it seems that everyone was just left to go do their own thing.

     "Oh. . . oh, you know," You awkwardly laughed, shoving hands into pockets in the hopes of the floor beneath you breaking and claiming you back into the earth. You'd rather fulfill your role in the circle of life early than be faced with small talk that had an uncomfortable choice of subject.

     "Oh my God I'm just kidding," He laughed, slapping a hand on your back and almost choking again in hopes of regaining back what little dignity you had and lost. "I don't really care if you're friends with benefits or something."

     "WHAT?"

     He raised a brow, not at all bothered by your raising voice. "Yeah? Isn't. . . isn't that what's happening?" You shook your head, that horrifying conclusion making your face contort, "Oh." He says, turning back to the window with a new-found sense of wonder, "Well I've grossly misread that situation."

     "No offense but you have," You awkwardly force out another laugh, clearing your throat and shaking your head. You didn't exactly know how to start up another conversation after that, settling with 'not conversing again at all' and playing with the ends of your scarf. It was still pretty early, and if this ended quickly you would have enough time to go get some dinner and eat in silence.

     You doubted that Jirou would still be awake, from what you heard—and from her thousands upon thousands of messages she had sent complaining about work—you were quick to assume that your friend wouldn't find it hard to pass out tonight.

     "Wait so you don't know what that blue thing was?" Layla suddenly asks out of the blue (hah), being left to wonder how she had managed to get to that part of the recording so quickly. "Isn't it just Trigger? They're pretty similar, from what you had described."

     "That might be true," Elijah slowly starts, still hesitating to hold eye contact with the chemist. (He never did, he hardly looked anyone in the eyes earlier when he was talking.) "But from experiments I can say for certain that it isn't the same as Trigger. That makes things. . . worse, is one way to put it. Like if it were, then uh, Ta. . . Taneo?" You all nod, "Taneo, yeah, he wouldn't have started sprouting cameras out of nowhere. Trigger enhances things, not make them. So there had to be signs of this thing existing beforehand for it to get hold of that."

     "Ah," She nods, muttering to herself in what you were sure was mental notes, "Maybe it's a version of Trigger? We can't rule out the possibility of the cameras existing beforehand, alongside the fact that we also can't rule out the other, equally possible possibility of the blue drug, perhaps being an, an early verison of it, for example." Before you knew it she was already grabbing for her whiteboard, also still wondering where she had been hiding it in this cramped space, especially with so many people,

     "Or!" She says again, much louder as she got to scribbling, "Maybe it is entirely different. Because it's either this thing gave him the cameras. . . " She trailed off purposefully to make him continue, gasping as he did with a nod of his head, "Or it unlocked it! Maybe he already had the ability to make the lenses, but this thing managed to help him unlock it!" The two chatted and bounced off of each other like life-long friends, the lot of you left in the dark as you nodded at their words.

     "Maybe if we open the door quietly enough we can sneak out," Dabi had joked as he appeared back at your side, smacking him with a humored look on your face. Here's to hoping he never heard a single word that Compress had said.

     "They have the mainframe computer in the bottom floor, and I'm sure most of our studies are down there. If we can manage to find where they kept the records of Taneo's scans, we can—" A knock on the door promptly cut off Elijah, an annoyed look on Layla's face as she paused the recording device. Goodness, is she always recording?

     "Yes?" It was pretty obvious from her face that she felt as though she had no choice but to answer, seeing as their voices were loud enough to definitely alert whoever was outside of their presence.

     'You're right, Eli, it is down there,' came a muffled voice of a female, 'You're gonna need the passcode though. Too bad you left before we could tell you,' A laugh, and a heavy pit formed on your stomach.

     "Oh shit." He cursed.

     Oh shit indeed.