The Cursed Siblings

Clues

Nezu

My students have been doing a wonderful job of searching for clues. After several hours, 2-A even managed to find out where the call came from. I wasn't surprised it originated from one of the Hero Commission's assigned cell phones; no, what I wasn't expecting was it's owner, who is supposed to be dead. I brought the findings to my most loyal and trustworthy teachers, Shota and Hizashi. They weren't as surprised as I expected they would be.

After some explanations I was informed they were indeed dead, yet wanted to help however they could. The call was one of those ways.

Armed with this new information, I sent my students home for three days of rest with the hope of finding more information about the commission and it's hand in the disappearance of my prized alumni and the warning I received.

My phone rings once more. The number is unknown. I answer, "Jeff, I've been expecting your call."

"Dadzue, they are coming, be prepared. Lives will be lost. No use trying to stop that. Save as many as you can."

"I understand. Anything more you can give us?"

"An old enemy rears it's head. I'm not allowed to say more. Good luck and goodbye."

"Very well. Thank you." I ended the call. My staff gave me a confused look, all but a few.

"We have work to do." I answered them with a cup of tea in my paws. I began explaining the phone call and our informant. Even in death, he's still a true hero, all of 1A all those years ago went through so much. All of them are heroes till the end and beyond.

"Are we really going to trust this Jeff? Are we even sure he's who he says he was?" Vlad King asks.

"It's him." Shota responds with his usual monotone with a hint of guilt within it.

"How can you be sure?" Power Loader chimes in.

"He gave me my son, Jacob. Saved him from an early death." He responds, passing them a crumpled and well read piece of paper from his pocket.

"Sho! You kept it?" Hizashi gasps.

"Yes. I did."

"Sho!" Hizashi began to cry, hugging his husband. Soon his tears were followed by those who taught the child whose writing was scribbled onto the paper.

"It's really him. He's still a hero, can't he get a break?" Nemuri gasps, tears falling from her eyes as she stares at the paper. Holding it close for a few minutes before reluctantly passing it onto the next person.

I had already seen the note, proof Jeff was indeed one of my precious students. The harsh reality that he wasn't able to rest peacefully for long before being called back out to do a hero's job. Helping those who need it, in any way possible. For him, it's helping those who passed move on.

This current danger must be important for the future of us all for him to warn us. Lives being lost with no way out must mean a war is nearing. But against who and when is what we must discover.