Rise a Day so Bleak - nowhere_of_the_tiefling_lords - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia (2024)

Chapter 1: The quieting of grasshoppers before a storm

Chapter Text

The sharp, bellowing cry of a train in the far distance cut through Izuku Midoriya’s restless haze. Often the noise replaced his dreams and he imagined himself racing across those tracks, only slowing for the crossroads that parted into the dizzying abyss of darkness beyond. One rail line shot off left, parallel to the dismal coast, while the other explored the virtues of civilization.

Many nights of sleeplessness had plagued him, only yielding baggy eyes and a trove of ideas. He was more free at night; his mind spun golden webs as his body lay confined to its room. Sometimes he would get up, flick on his dim desk lamp, and write out the ideas he concocted for heroes in a notebook. It had become a past time of sorts, yet it created habits in Izuku that other people found to be… unnerving. Mostly he would talk to himself, but without an actual hero to analyze, his classmates often fell victim to his fixations.

It was an ostracizing trait that often left him on the receiving end of attacks, but the boy didn’t mind much. After all, the best way to learn was getting hands-on experience, and his classmates never failed to deliver. If someone punched him, Izuku would tell them how they could improve their techniques. They all had such amazing quirks, so he didn’t want skills that could be improved be the poison that kept them from becoming incredible heroes!

Perhaps that is the reason he ended up like he did a week later. Perhaps that is why he survived.

* * *

At 0100 hours, a ship, black as the night air, silently anchored at a sleepy shipping port. The guards that should have been on duty had taken to drinking their worries away, and no heroes were patrolling either. Because many had become complacent due the port’s docile nature, there was no need for a hero’s protection as it would be a waste of a quirk. It was an oversight that often plagued modern society and weakened them to villainous infiltrators.

As if it were a signal, a cry from a passing train dispatched five villains who made their way towards the humbly-lit city of Musutafu. There was nothing individually unique about them; they were just another school of fish in a sea of tranquility. They, however, were anything but fish. Each person sported a dark uniform, combat boots, and a tinted mask to conceal their face. It offered an anonymous grace to acts born from Hell. Together they made their way through the maze of shipping crates until the glow of artificial lights illuminated the darkness around them.

They were shadows, creeping up the walls like vines and silent as such, too. By the time they had reached the outskirts of Musutafu, the sunrise was just beginning to peek up from a watery horizon. The ship that had left them was long gone, but they had communication devices as well as other methods of contacting their employer.

The group ducked into an abandoned warehouse. Many of the windows had been broken and vines had taken to reclaiming the structure in net-like patterns, but it offered a veil of anonymity from prying eyes. Golden sunlight streaked through the windows, turning floating dust into golden orbs.

“So, how long we gotta be in this sh*t town?” One of them asked, waving a gloved hand through a beam of sunlight and sending dust particles spiraling in response.

“However long it takes us to catch some brats and get out.” Another answered, stroking their chin dramatically, “So, like a week or two.”

Eventually, the work commenced and two took up guard duty while the other three began to set up camp. Bedrolls, a gas stove, and human pens were among the few to be assembled. Each cage itself wasn’t very large, about the size of a macaw cage, but its solid, glass-like walls did well to block out all sound. One might even have been mistaken then for clear containers, but the villains knew better. There were 10 of the boxes in total.

Chapter 2: The Begining of a Storm

Chapter Text

Izuku fought the sickening nausea that arose after Katsuki Bakugo’s fist met his jaw and ignited. Letting out a smoke-choked cry, Izuku reached up to rub at the point under his chin where the blond’s fist had made contact.

“Left hook again, Kacchan?” Izuku forced a slight laugh up and smiled kindly. “It’s too predictable.”

“Shut up, Deku,” the other boy spat Izuku’s demeaning nickname. “Not at predictable as you coming here to cower like the quirkless weakling you are.”

It was true; Izuku did come to his school’s rooftop a lot during the day to clear his head and write ideas down before class. It was also a great place to think out loud without disturbing anyone else. However, it would seem Bakugo had caught on and decided to follow him up today (he had always been clever.) It wasn’t just his childhood friend, but two other kids Bakugo hung out with as well had joined him and hung back to create a triangular formation.

Bakugo snatched Izuku’s notebook. “Or as predictable as your murder handbook. You think I don’t know why you’re writing all our weaknesses down? Hah?!”

“I-I,” Izuku sputtered, genuinely confused by the claim but not so dumb that he couldn’t see where it was coming from. “I’m not making a-”

“And why shouldn’t you?” Bakugo yelled, flipping through the pages absentmindedly and ignoring Izuku’s attempts at defending himself as per usual.

“You’re weak and get beat up. You thought that if you knew how to hurt us, you could just stab us while our backs are turned!”

Izuku shut his mouth as the other boy berated him with exaggerated statements. After years of dealing with Bakugo, the best thing was to just let him run his mouth because arguing would only escalate the situation and Izuku had enough burn scars as it was. Finally, when the blond when to take breathe, Izuku stood up and pushed past Bakugo who snarled and smacked his hand away. Izuku was still slightly stunned from the earlier and teetered into the triangle.

“Where do you think you’re going?” One of Bakugo’s extras laughed, crossing his arms. The other one moved in close to the first, obstructing Izuku’s view. At the same time, he felt Bakugo move closer to his backside.

“Hey nerd!”

Izuku risked a glance behind him and found a feral grin had worked its way onto Bakugo’s face.

“You forgot this,” the boy laughed cruelly and chucked Izuku’s notebook off the roof. Izuku followed it with his eyes as it soared across the sky until it disappeared bellow the top line of the roof. Izuku cursed under his breath and moved forward with a bit more vigor, but the two boys easily blocked his way and pushed him to the ground.

Izuku’s face hit the gravel coating and he could taste a bead of blood as it rolled into his mouth from a cut on his lip.

“Hey, broccoli top,” one of the boys laughed, hacking up a brown-ish wad of saliva and spitting it onto Izuku’s cheek. A second later, the other one brought his foot down on Izuku’s back hard enough to bruise and knock the wind out of the smaller boy.

“Hey, idiot!” Bakugo yelled from the edge of the roof. He was now looking out over the edge at something below. “Looks like the only hero work you’ll be doing today is saving your precious stalker log!”

He was pointing now, and it made Izuku’s hackles stand on end. He had almost finished filling that entire notebook and now…

“Haha! Look, he’s crying,” the spit kid hollered as the other lifted his boot off Izuku’s back. He could feel the burning, humiliating tears roll down and mix with the loogie on his cheeks.

Now with the boot gone, Izuku made a sprint for the doors off the roof as laughter erupted from behind him. Thankfully his classmates didn’t pursue him down the stairs. As he ran, Izuku wiped the cooling spit off his cheek as tears washed away the fine dust from the roof’s surface.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he tore through the halls and out the main doors only to be met with shouting from Bakugo and his buddies who were still the roof top. They pelted him with the small bits of gravel as he rustled through the bushes looking for his notebook. Finally, whether out of boredom or pure pity, Bakugo through a rather large pebble into the fountain.

“Oi! Algae for brains! Your book’s with the fish!”

Izuku’s heart sunk as he rushed over to the fountain and saw his notebook coming apart like snow.

“No,” he whispered, already slipping his shoes off and wadding into the knee-deep basin. Hesitantly, he pulled the delicate paper up from the water’s depths and stared blankly at the drowned mess. It was soggy, bleeding in places he used ink, and rolled apart under his fingertips. Izuku stared blankly at it.

Then, he silently slipped off the outermost layer of his school uniform – a black button down with a few too many patched burn marks. Wrapping the notebook up like a puppy hit by a car, he carried its delicate carcass over to the fountain’s edge and slipped it into his backpack.

Izuku glanced up at the roof again to see Bakugo watching him with narrowed, scarlet eyes. The two other boys he was with must’ve heard the bell because they were yelling at him to hurry up. With a face as placid as the paper floating carelessly in the shaded waters, something rather uncharacteristic of Bakugo, he turned and followed after the other two. Even though they had disappeared from Izuku’s sight, he could hear Bakugo’s barking.

With his head hung low and feeling more than just a little defeated, Izuku slunk off campus. He found no reason to stay the rest of the day. The one thing he had been looking forward to – picking high schools – had been ruined when everyone laughed after he said he wanted to go to UA, a hero school. Sure he didn’t have a quirk, but he could make it work, right? He could learn hero support and offer advice just like he did in his books. (In his nearly-decimated book, he added wordlessly. Rejected by the hero he wanted to offer the most help towards.) He wanted to see Katsuki Bakugo flourish and become an amazing hero.

Tears fell from his eyes (Had they ever stopped?), staining the pavement a darker gray as he clutched the straps of his backpack to ground himself. Instead of going back to class, he walked off campus, uncaring about his destination. Before he knew it, he had left the busier parts of town for a much more desolate one. When he finally looked up, he found a beach littered with foul-smelling trash mixed with the salty perfume of fish and wet sand from the ocean. The seaside dump spiraled high like a forsaken city gone with time and corrosion.

Lost in its oddity, Izuku hopped down the tsunami barrier and planted his feet firmly in the sand. The sand itself was slightly course; A mixture of tiny glass, metal shards, and plastics. As he moved closer to the waves, however, the ground turned more sandy and traded particles for massive rusting piles of trash.

Izuku had to climb his way over a few and finally settled on the roof of a rusted-out car frame. Where its hood touched high tide, colonies of creatures sprung up. Grinning, Izuku grabbed his pencil and began drawing them, making sure to list his observations. The book had dried out mostly, but the pages were somewhat brittle so he had to be extra careful with them.

There he sat the rest of the day, just watching boats on the horizon and the tiny creatures beneath him open and close their mouths for the waves. Loose metal rang like chimes in the cool breeze. It was a peaceful scene.

“Young man!” A man shouted nearby, startling Izuku out of his spell of tranquility.

The boy whipped his head around, already moving to tuck his things back into his bag and sling it over his shoulder. He made no action to call back even though he had been spotted. Jumping down off the rusted car, Izuku walked with his head down through a more twisted path through trash in the hopes of losing the stranger. He sincerely did not want to meet someone in such a secluded area of town, especially not when no one knew where he was.

He knew well to manage his breathing and regulate his speed, but he couldn’t help how fast his heart raced in fear as he made his way back to where the beach met road. Normally, he would’ve been friendly, but the beach was too secluded and Izuku found it uncomfortable to meet new people with unknown quirks in sketchy places. There was also the fact that he wouldn’t stand much of a chance at protecting himself without a quirk. Even if the person was nice, they’d wonder why he was out of school or by himself. Izuku shivered, reminded of the talks about stranger danger.

He was almost clear of the beach when a man stepped out from a pillar of debris and cut Izuku off abruptly. The boy screamed and, at that moment, his building fear won over his rational reasoning and his flight instincts kicked in.

Without looking up at his pursuer, Izuku sprinted back down to the ocean, deviating from his original path in favor of taking an even narrower path. He hoped that the loose footing and small spaces could shake the larger man. For once, Izuku was thankful for being small and nimble because it allowed him to slip through the piles with ease. However, he could still hearing the man behind him, so he swung his body through a busted car window and immediately hunkered under the rotted-out dashboard. He tried to control his quickened breathing to remain hidden as he heard foot steps approaching.

“Young man,” the stranger was saying again. “It’s alright!”

He seemed to pause in the small clearing just outside the car and Izuku nearly stopped breathing entirely. Even though Izuku couldn’t see him, he could hear his frustration and… worry?

“Please come out! It’s dangerous here!”

Izuku didn’t respond. Sure, the man’s heart could actually be in the right place, but it could also be a ploy to lure him into the open. After all, why was the man going to a sketchy place in town.

“Dammit.” The stranger sighed, frustration evident in his tone. “This time limit…”

The crunch of trash under his boots indicated his departure, but Izuku didn’t dare move. He didn’t know how long he was there for, but the sun was setting as he climbed his way out. Red, crusted blood had begun to flake off of small scratches where his skin brushed against sharp pieces of trash. His clothes had taken the most damage; lacerations littered the fabric and Izuku doubted his mother could sew all of them up because many were frayed beyond repair. She was going to be angry when he finally got home. First he skipped class, then he destroyed his clothes.

Izuku climbed back up to street level where the lights were just blinking on in anticipation of the growing dark. Slipping his bag off and setting it on the cement wall, Izuku pulled out a first-aid kit and began cleaning the small cuts on his skin. Once he had finished, he zipped everything back up and was just about to start his trek home when there was a noise behind him. In his haste to determine the cause, his elbow knocked his bag over the wall and it fell back onto the beach. Izuku groaned and was about to reach for it when a hand clasped around his mouth.

Izuku let out a muffled yelp before biting down as hard as he could, but the hand was gloved and resulted in only a slight flinch. Before he could struggle too hard, his arms were pinned behind his back and another set of hands swept his feet. Izuku fell forward and, when his face collided with the hard concrete, he blacked out.

Chapter 3: New Place

Chapter Text

When Izuku awoke, it wasn’t tangled in his warm sheets with the palpable smell of breakfast drifting in through his room’s vents. It wasn’t even to sunlight. No, he woke to the muted squawking of restless seabirds. Groaning, Izuku pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed at his eyes. He was groggy from sleep and his head drummed and intense rhythm of pain. When he went to touch the point of pain, he felt an egg-sized bump growing there. His fingertips came back with crusted blood.

“Ughhh,” Izuku groaned again, running his fingers through his mess of green curls. They were slightly damp from the humid, ocean air that clung to him like honey on fabric.

When he tried to stand, his head hit something above him and he lost his balance, causing him to fall back on his butt. He gagged from the sudden impact and tired to ignore the way the world spun as he looked up to find a clear panel. Now that he looked around, there were glass-like panels all around him. They were caging him inside a glass box.

“Hey, kid,” a gruff-voiced man called. Izuku whipped his head up, immediately regretting that action as it only spurred his nausea. “Quit tappin’ the wall! It’s f*ckin’ annoying!”

Oh, he wasn’t addressing him. Izuku looked at the box to his left where the man had yelled and found a boy around his age hunkered in the corner. The hand he had been tapping was now knotted in his purple hair while the other lay across the tops of his knees. His chin rested there too, so his face was partially obscured. He was muttering (much like Izuku used to) and his eyes were unfocused. A collar hung around his neck with a chain that linked him to a peg on the glass floor. Now that Izuku looked down, he too had a collar and chain.

His head pounded and he tried to control his breathing. He was in trouble, but he needed to calm down and think. Looking around, there were nine other kids sitting in their own transparent enclosures. All were in various stages of disarray

“Hey,” Izuku shouted, directing himself at the small cluster of adults some 50 yards away. When he received no reply, Izuku got closer to the transparent wall and pounded his fist once on it.

“Hey!” He was shouting a little louder now. “Why am I here-”

“Shut up kid! Stop pounding on the f*cking walls! Don’t make me come over there!” The man howled at him, seemingly at his wits end already. Izuku glanced over towards the purple-haired boy again. He had since picked his head up and was smirking. Then he pointed at his ear and shook his head.

Of course! The boxes probably prevented the voices inside from reaching ears on the outside. If someone were trying to keep another person quiet, this would be the most effective way. It was the least amount of work for the greatest result. Izuku sighed, slumping down on the wall so he could face the only person in his nearby vicinity that did not appear to be a villain. However, is nose was tucked into his knees again, so any means at conversation was out.

Looking to his left, he noticed a villain in complete armor peeking out a window high above from where they sat perched on a pipe. To his right sat a similar-looking villain on a flight of mossy stairs, peering out of a hole in the wall where rust had eaten away the thin metal. That left the three villains who looked to be attempting to nap in the center of the warehouse. These were more casually dressed; they only wore a light covering of body armor and no mask. They sat leaning up against packed bags.

Izuku looked back to the other boy who was now watching him. ‘Are we going somewhere?’ he mouthed. Purple Hair just shrugged.

‘You are the last,’ he mouthed, gesturing to all the filled cages.

Izuku nodded, holding up the chain and exaggerating his confused expression.

‘Block your quirk.’

“Oh,” Izuku hummed, looking down at his collar and chain. This was actually good. Since he didn’t have a quirk, he hadn’t lost anything. Instead, he was actually given the upper hand. He knew that he didn’t have a quirk, but could hide that fact behind the anti-quirk collar. He was sure now that the people that grabbed him had no idea who he was or what his quirk was, so it was the perfect remedy for a poor situation.

Izuku smiled big at the purple-haired boy who was probably beginning to question Izuku’s sanity. He was beginning to question that himself, but they needed to think like heroes if they wanted to escape. Izuku’s heart swelled at the thought of heroes; he was going to save them.

‘I have a plan,’ he mouthed. ‘To escape.’

Chapter 4: Plan

Chapter Text

Purple Hair rolled his eyes and tucked his head away again. Izuku was still smiling, but it fell a little at the other boy’s reaction. All Might could always instill hope in people, so Izuku would try to do the same. He was no All Might (obviously,) but he could still help himself and the others.

Who knows when the heroes would be coming. Izuku didn’t want to just sit around and wait to be rescued; he wanted to be ready to help. He had said that he had a plan to escape – he wasn’t lying, he just didn’t know exactly how yet – and he was going to find a way. There were people to save, after all!

* * *

When the light in the warehouse began to dim, Izuku’s headache was beginning to subside. (Or maybe he was just getting used to it?) In the few hours he had been there, he observed a few things:

1. A captive was taken out of their cage every four hours to use an old portable bathroom in the far corner. First, the handler would ‘deactivate’ one of the walls (It was truly fascinating and Izuku was still trying to figure out how they did it.) Then they would attach a second chain to the collar. Finally, they would release the original chain and take them to the bathroom. The process was repeated in reverse when the kid was put back.

2. Water was given per outing. They weren’t given bottles. Rather, however much a kid could hold down from a jug was their supply. Izuku had watched a lethargic-looking kid gulp down half a gallon before puking it back up.

3. Food was supplied inside a silver, vacuum-sealed package. Izuku didn’t know how many meals a day they got yet, but he had one around lunchtime and, judging by the way Purple Hair watched him eat it, Izuku should’ve probably savored the soft, brick-shaped bar a bit more.

4. Guards changed frequently and the ones off duty spent their time packing and sleeping. After seeing the way they worked to wipe away any traces of themselves, Izuku was sure they were preparing to move him and the other kids sooner rather than later.

It would be pointless to try to escape during an outing. Not only did the collars with chains inhibit movement, but they were greatly outnumbered one to five – no quirk to five unknown quirks. Izuku ran his fingers through the curls of his hair, yanking out dirt and salt encrusted knots that had begun to form. The only time to escape would be during transportation because that would be the only time all ten of them were outside their cages and thus outnumbered their captors. Izuku eyed the younger kids with worry; It would be difficult to ask them to run or fight the villains.

Izuku then considered the crates of supplies that the villains were packing away evidence into. It was unlikely that they had carried the holding boxes with them since they were awkward and too cumbersome for stealth. That probably meant they were delivered either before or after their arrival and would be picked up before or after they left. However Izuku and the other kids would have little chance at tipping off the heroes during said retrieval of crates because there were just too many variables and the warehouse they were in was likely too remote to properly attract authority response. Even if they tried shouting for help during their own retrieval, they would likely going to be gagged. Izuku recalled one kid, a girl, that screamed for help when they let her out, but she was quickly silenced with a gloved hand and thrown back into her box without any bathroom break or water. She had wet herself shortly after and, even though no sound escaped the cage, he could tell she was sobbing.

It was curious. Izuku was always the crier, but now he couldn’t find anything to cry about. There was only the fear of the situation driving his hope at escape. Nine other kids, all a year or so younger than Izuku aside from the purple-haired boy, would be a challenge to get them to heroes.

If one person could escape, Izuku was sure that the villains would easily hunt them down or vanish before the heroes could save the rest. That meant that he would have to get them all out at once. First, though, he would need to get the collar off and come up with a damn good bluff.

Movement caught his eye and he looked up, finding Purple Hair waving to get his attention. Izuku scooted closer to the walls that separated them and waited. When the other boy saw that he had got Izuku’s attention, he pointed to the packed supplies.

Izuku nodded. ‘They’re getting ready to move us.’

‘I noticed.’ Even though he couldn’t hear the boy, Izuku could tell the tone from his bored face. ‘This is our time to f*ck these villains up.’

Izuku found himself smiling at that for some reason. The boy reminded him of Bakugo’s biting and bitter personality, albeit less explosive. Speaking of Bakugo…

‘What is your quirk?’

Purple Hair’s eyes narrowed and he touched his throat. ‘Voice,’ he mouthed.

Izuku nodded and waited for more of an explanation, but there was none. He looked down and began mumbling his thoughts. The other boy waited patiently, watching him closely. Eventually Izuku looked up again. ‘I have a plan,’ he said, large eyes narrowing with determination. ‘But I can’t explain it now. Get close when they take us out.’

Purple Hair pointed at the collar and raised his eyebrows.

‘I will take care of the key, you worry about the others.’

The confusion on Purple Hair’s face soften slightly. ‘I can help more,’ he touched his throat again and shot a glare at their captures. ‘I can make them do things.’

Izuku shoot his head again. ‘If you can make people do things, then get those kids out. They come first’

The other boy looked annoyed again, but nodded. ‘What will you do?’

Izuku couldn’t help the way his eyes flicked away from the other’s purple irises. He had always been bad at lying, but he couldn’t hold up the rest of the hostages just because he was quirkless. For once in his life, he was going to be useful even if it cost him his life.

Chapter 5: Hero Complex

Chapter Text

When it came time for Izuku to be taken out for his break, using it for its intended purpose wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. While he waited, his eyes shifted uneasily, visually exploring all that he could see outside his cage. He fiddled with his collar as he did so and found a small hole located on the outer shell. He assumed it was a keyhole, although it was perplexing since everything else was so much more high tech. Whatever the reason, a small, metal peg could probably be stuck into the collar and used to deactivate it. Perhaps the key would send an electronic signal rather than utilizing the traditional turning of a key? It would make it harder to lock pick at the very least. Even though Izuku had not seen the villains actually remove a collar yet, he guessed that they most likely kept a key on them in case of emergencies. Knowing that, he began to build a loose construction of what he was looking for and how he was going to obtain it.

Feeling up around his collar again until he felt the hole, Izuku decided to press his luck at seeing what his neighbor knew about it.

“What’s this for,” he mouthed, pointing at the hole. There was no response. He was expecting that to be honest (the other boy had been much more distant recently,) but it was disappointing nonetheless. Izuku shrugged and turned to see a guard sauntering up, a little loose on his legs from the day drinking. Seriously, whoever these people were, Izuku questioned why anyone would do business with them.

A few minutes later, and Izuku’s chains has been passed from floor to hand. As the man had been transferring the chains, a glint caught Izuku’s eye. He kept his eyes low and fixed on the silver peg handing from the villain's belt, held there by a thin wire ring as they walked.

Izuku’s eyes flashed up and away from the potential key for just a moment. “Are we leaving soon?”

There was no response from the villain, so Izuku tried another tactic.

“I’ll blow you to bits when I’m out,” Izuku tried the obviously Bakugo-inspired threat, but it desperately lacked bite and Izuku was the one shrinking back. The villain made no comment and kept his eyes fixed on the portable bathroom ahead of them. Izuku was starting to feel annoyance bubble within him. Sure he was used to being ignored, but this was getting ridiculous. He wasn’t that pathetic, right? He knew the answer of course, but it didn’t stop him.

“Hey,” Izuku jeered, eyes dropping down to the peg-key hanging from his handler’s belt again. Izuku bit his lip until he tasted blood, feeling his heart begin to race at what he was about to do.

“Hey-” Izuku cut himself off as he pretended to trip and lunged at the villain, hands extended to grasp at the key. Before he could snag it, however, the man spun around and brought his fist down with bruising force against Izuku’s right cheek, sending the younger careening face-first into the dirt. A second later, Izuku pushed himself up with unsteady hands, spitting up blood from a split lip and fighting nausea from the sudden blow to his already very painful head trauma. Unwelcome tears swelled in his eyes as the toe of his captor met his ribs and Izuku gagged.

“f*cking don’t test me kid,” the man growled, the scent of alcohol palpable on his breath. “Unless you wanna lose a goddamn hand next time.”

The man turned then and continued in the direction of the bathroom, yanking Izuku by his chain and dragging him by his face at least a foot before he caught himself. Cursing something he was glad his mother wasn’t around to hear, Izuku began to push himself to his feet again when a metallic flash in the dirt caught his attention. Izuku’s eyes widened; the key lay just an inch from his nose.

He sunk his grubby hand into the dirt greedily, capturing both a fist full of dirt and the key in one go. Shaking his fist to free most of the dirt, he stumbled forwards. Before the guard could turn back to see what he was doing, Izuku pocketed the supposed key in the pants of his school uniform (he had not been given a change of clothes and, from the looks of it, neither had the other kids.) Izuku staggered again in his hustled to catch up with the villain, but stayed upright long enough to regain most of his balance. Thankfully it appeared that the guard hadn’t noticed.

* * *

Izuku sat in his cage as the last of the packing preparations were made under hushed whisper and calculated action. He kept his hand pressed firmly on his pocket where the key lay buried in the thin fabric, fearing it may be lost forever should the protection be lifted, taking with it any chances at escape.

Besides Purple Hair who lifted his eyebrow in question when he noticed Izuku’s rather obvious nerves, no one else had apparently picked up on the fact that Izuku had something he shouldn’t have. While the villains were stashing their heavier equipment for later, Izuku made eye contact with Purple Hair.

“Key,” he mouthed. The other boy’s eyes widened slightly, causing the dark bags under his eyes to swell forwards like a pillow coaxing his eyes to sleep. He didn’t sleep, though – just asked Izuku what he meant.

“Here,” Izuku pointed to the hole he could feel on his collar. “It’s the key.”

After another moment of wonder, the boy schooled his face back to its usual bored expression. “Why not use it? Test it. It would be bad if they” – he nodded towards the villains – “realized their merchandise was trying to escape. They’d put us on full lock down.”

“That’s why we can’t fail,” Izuku jibed. Then, the rest of what Purple Hair’s statement sunk in.

“Merchandise?” Izuku said, co*cking his head. “Like, human trafficking?”

Purple Hair nodded.

“Why,” Izuku questioned, confused about why villains would want to sell kids. Sure he had heard about instances where kids with rare quirks were sold to collectors, but Izuku was quirkless. Was he being sold as spare parts, then? With how much society hated the quirkless, they would be easy targets because of how weak and unwanted they were. They could disappear without anyone noticing right away.

But Izuku’s situation was different. For one, quirk collars were being used, so perhaps their captors were the grab-and-go type of villains. In that case, him and the other kids were likely the victims of a serial kidnapping operation, but the motive was still a mystery.

Eventually, Purple Hair nodded off to sleep, something Izuku hadn’t thought possible. Since Izuku’s arrival, he hadn’t seen the other boy sleep once, which was rather impressive considering he’d been here a day or two already. Unfortunately, the rest didn’t last long; they were rudely awakened by the villains.

Without any warning, cube which had been his prison went down. At first, Izuku feared that the villains had noticed he had stolen the key after all, but soon realized he wasn’t the only one being moved. All the children were being linked together in a single-file line with one long chain. From what he could tell, the littlest kids made up the middle while the older kids made up the front and back ends.

It was smart to separate the older kids as to squander escape attempts, but it did not work well in Izuku’s favor. Thankfully, he was being yanked towards the back of the line which arguably was less under less surveillance. When Izuku locked eyes with Purple Hair who was being forced to play line leader, Izuku smiled his brightest and most hopeful grin just like All Might.

“We’ll be alright,” he reassured the kids whom all turned to look at him. They were quickly scolded for it, and few of their captors even chuckled a bit. Izuku felt unease roll in his stomach, but tried to be strong like All Might.

“Alright, that’s enough!” The villain behind Izuku shouted and gave a harsh shove to the back of his head. It took everything not to stumble over the girl in front of him who was at least half his height and one step away from a panic attack. Izuku felt on the verge of one as well, but he tried to focus on the hope concealed in his pocket.

H had to time this right. If he didn’t, then he would surely be caught with the key and no one would escape. They started a slow march, the villains surrounding them like prison guards moving convicts.

“Think,” Izuku whispered to himself. “Think!”

“Shut it!” The villain behind him shouted and shoved him again. This girl in front of him shuddered and her breathing hitched once, twice, then turned into sobs.

Trying to keep his buzzing thoughts from exiting through his lips, Izuku began to form a risky plan. Using the key to secretly unlock the collar was one thing, but pulling off a convincing enough stunt that allowed everyone to escape was something entirely different. And how was he supposed to get to Purple Hair? He was at the front and there were four guards between them.

Just then, there was a crash at the front of the line and two of the guards rushed forwards. They had been marched into a narrow ally with two storage buildings, but it didn’t seem that anyone was around to tend to them. Izuku also could not spot any cameras either, so no one would know that they were there. Fortunately, Purple Hair had must’ve been thinking the same thing and created the opening Izuku needed by knocking, or rather falling, over a pile of old trash cans.

Utilizing the distraction, Izuku quietly brought the key to his collar. To his utter relief, the device immediately responded with a soft click and dropped to his feet. Before anyone could realize what just happened, Izuku turned heel and sprinted faster than he’d ever managed in his life.

There, Izuku thought, spying the garage he’d seen while marching into the ally. The door had been left partially open about eight inches from the ground. Behind him, Izuku could hear the heavy footsteps of the villain enclosing.

“Get back here you f*cking brat!” He roared just as Izuku slid through the gap and into the dark of the garage.

Through the bar of light, Izuku saw the the boots of the villain. Then he saw his face when the man got on his arms and tried to fit too. He couldn’t, though, and just gave up after a few minutes.

“Just leave him,” the man ordered. “Losing one kid is better than losing the whole lot all of ‘em.”

Izuku’s heart raced. He couldn’t just let the villains get away with all that they had done – were doing. All those kids had people that loved them, that cared for them and would be worried. He had to save them.

Izuku desperately searched for anything that could help him, and that’s when he saw it. On the wall hung a small, red box labeled ‘Fire Alarm.’

Chapter 6: To Free a Fleet

Chapter Text

The sound was earsplitting inside the garage and Izuku figured that anyone within at least a two kilometer radius could probably hear it as well. If he was lucky, the alarm would draw the attention of a pro or two and they could fight the villains off. The problem was that Izuku had to stall the villains and keep them here until help arrived.

Ducking back out into the ally, Izuku jogged after the small party of captors and captives. The villains were obviously growing anxious because they were hurrying the kids, but with Purple Hair seeming to understand the gist of Izuku’s plan, the party was slowed down significantly. A small smile worked its way onto Izuku’s face as he watched the boy pretend to stumble on stable ground.

When they noticed Izuku’s return, the villains perked up and the one in the back even made a grab for him. Izuku dodged in an evasive maneuver perfected after years so many years of bullying and reached an arm out to brush against the villain’s bare skin. When he had landed a few feet away from the villain, he attempted to mimic Bakugo’s wicked grin and tone.

“My quirk is back,” he laughed maniacally, voice clear over the crying of alarms in the near distance. He bit back a laugh at how absurd and uncomfortable he felt about mimicking Bakugo. (Only Bakugo could Bakugo, after all.)

“And you,” he pointed dramatically at the man he just touched, “have been infected with a ticking time bomb.”

Izuku was afraid he was overselling it until the man brought his fingers to the place on his neck where Izuku’s fingertips had brushed. A cold sweat broke out over the man’s brow and his eyes shifted uneasily. Perhaps he was still in the game.
“My quirk's name is Bomb Master and it allows me to place and control time bombs, such as the one on you, along with other explosives.”

So Izuku had come up with a lot of different hero name and quirks, sue him. Bomb Master had actually been a villain that Bakugo and he came up with while playing Heroes and Villains as kids. Izuku’s grin widened along with his confident. I’ve placed a bomb inside that building. Should you leave this spot, I will detonate it. I’m sure you don’t want heroes to swarm, right?”

“What makes you think we’re gonna listen to you? For all we know, you’re just bluffin’!” One of the villains cried.

Izuku took a breath. It was all or nothing, he reminded himself. If he didn’t come off confident, then the charade would fail. The kids couldn't afford mistakes and they were depending on him alone to get them out of this.

Slowly, he raised a hand and locked eyes with the man he had first touched. Then he let his palm lay open and tilted his chin up, mimicking Bakugo’s pose even though he was lacking the miniature explosions.

“If I close my hand, the bomb detonates. Got it?” Izuku snarled, curling his lip and leaning hard into the act.

The villain that was farther away spoke up again, but he was looking a bit nervous as well. “He’s bluff’in-”

“J, don’t test it,” the closer one spoke in response. That erupted into an argument between all the villains about whether or not to risk the life of one of their own or comply. In any case, Izuku was not sticking around to find out. At this point, the captives were more of a cluster than a line. Seeing his chance, Izuku moved towards Purple Hair who met him halfway.

“Give me the key,” the other breathed, voice a bit lower than what Izuku was expecting. A smirk was just beginning to pull at the corner of his mouth in anticipation.

“I’ll get the rest of them, too,” he added, nodding back at the kids. Feeling a bit like a deer in the headlights, Izuku nodded back in confirmation. Then he broke his stupor with a bright smile of his own.

“Okay,” he sung, pressing the key into Purple Hair’s hands.

Just as he was turning away, Izuku thought he could hear the faint cry of sirens somewhere in the distance. He didn’t think the villains could discern the noise yet over the alarms and their verbal fighting, but if the emergency vehicles were coming here, then it wouldn’t be long before heroes arrived. Izuku hoped that their destination was the factory. Whoever had hired these villains must’ve bought the cheap and fast team because they were sloppy. In other words, they would be a piece of cake for the police alone, but Izuku still wished to see a hero fight. Maybe All Might would even come to save them!

The clank of a collar hitting the ground startled Izuku out of his fanboy haze. It must’ve startled the villains as well because they all turned to look at the liberating operation taking place. Purple Hair – he really should find out his name now that they could hear each other – was only halfway through.

“Hey!” Izuku yelled, voice cracking just slightly. This time, however, no one paid him any mind and it seemed that his earlier bluff was all but forgotten.

“Hey-”

“What do you think you’re doing, kid?” A villain growled, creeping closer to Purple Hair.

The teen shrugged, unfazed. “I dunno. Wanna come find out?”

“You-” the villain started, but was cut off abruptly for some reason. Then something even more peculiar happened. The man straightened up, relaxed, and appeared to lose his previously vicious composure. There was a beat of silence a midst the outcry of sirens behind them. The man went still in such a way that it was almost eerie. It was almost as if the villain was in a doll-like state.

All of time seemed to pause for a second, everyone’s attention being diverted to the strange scene. Izuku realized then that it had to be the doing of whatever Purple Hair’s quirk was. Was it a physiological quirk? What was the trigger for it? However those questions would have to wait for later because the villains, much like everyone else, were beginning to catch on to what just happened.

Then a single, low and dangerous command broke the spell. “Attack your own men.”

Izuku grit his teeth as he watched the man follow the other teen’s orders. Despite the ease of the command, the sweat that beaded on Purple Hair’s forehead and the grimace that had begun to work its way onto his face were evidence that he was straining to hold the man under his quirk. If Izuku didn’t do something, the turn of the tide could quickly shift into an unfavorably outcome.

Izuku took on a new facade as he turned and smiled brightly at the children clustered against the wall behind Purple Hair. Izuku was selfish and undeserving, but he still did his best to mimic the effect All Might had on his terrified audience.

Snatching the key out of Purple Hair’s open palm, he began freeing the remaining youth from their shackles. Some of them were crying, so Izuku kneeled down.

“Hey, everyone!” Izuku said, infusing confidence into his words. He’d seen enough animal training specials to know that if his audience saw how scared he was, they too would panic. If that happened, then none of the prisoners would make it out, so he asked the first question that came to his mind. “Who’s your favorite hero?”

* * *

Hitoshi was breathing hard and, at this rate, he was going to lose his control over the villain. It was hard enough to hold a stationary human, but a person that was fighting? That was like trying to hold water in your hands, too fluid to be contained, slipping through the cracks.

After a few hits, his puppet’s head was slammed into the hard earth that a sickening crack could be heard and the connection was finally lost. Now without a distraction, all attention was directed at him.

Hitoshi looked around frantically and realized that the green haired boy along with the other kids had disappeared. While there was an immense feeling of relief, he couldn't quell the sudden abandonment. Had they decided to leave him because of his quirk just like the other people in his life?

Luckily, his downward spiral didn’t last long as the fight drew his full attention. One of the villains had some sort of levitation quirk and began chucking debris at him. At the same time, his former puppet let out a groan and pushed himself to his feet. Hitoshi gulped; he was going to lose this fight.
* * *
Izuku hurriedly stashed the last of the kids into the garage he had originally pulled the fire alarm in. The sound was still deafening, but it was safer than being out in the open at least.

“Remember what I told you,” Izuku shouted over the cry of the sirens. “This is our hero base, and it is under attack! You must stay here and protect the crystal!” He pointed towards a discarded lightbulb. “Don’t let the villains take it!”

A few of the kids still looked unsure, but most of them had a newfound look of determination on their faces. One of the boys turned to another and, balling his hands into fists, grinned.

“My name is Agent Strong and my quirk is called Epic Strength!” The boy shouted. He got a bit of teasing, but it lightened the atmosphere and eased the tension they were all feeling.

Seeing that the the kids were okay, Izuku was about to slip out and rejoin the fighting outside when there was a small tug at his leg. Glancing downward, he found a girl, one of the younger ones about six or seven years old, there. He knelt down to ask her what was the matter, but she leaned into his ear first.

“I saw one of them dropped this,” she whispered into his ear. Despite the noise, her voice was clear as she placed what looked to be a baton into Izuku’s hand.

He locked eyes with her, then quickly looked around as if someone would take the weapon from them right then and there. “How did you even-”

Izuku cut himself off as she demonstrated her quirk for him. It was some sort of visual-altering quirk that allowed her to change the appearance of something. In her demonstration, she showed Izuku how a discarded bolt could be altered to appear as if it were a chunk of gold. He gawked for a few seconds before standing up.

“Thank you for this!” He beamed as he slipped out of the garage, weapon in hand. “I’ll be back soon!”

However, he didn’t rush into the fight just yet. Instead, he examined the device she had given him and found two small prongs at the pinnacle of the baton. At its base was a button and, with a press, electricity exploded out between the two prongs. Izuku jumped back a bit at the feral, snapping lightning.

Chapter 7: Highs and Lows

Chapter Text

Hitoshi took one hit, then another, and another. It hurt. Between the quirk exhaustion and fighting, his whole body felt like giving up. Still, he merely groaned and pushed himself to his feet after a particularly brutal hit. This was fine, he told himself. He had endured so much worse for much smaller purposes than the one he had now.

“Hey,” he shouted, voice gritty like the dirt on his skin. “You really must suck if it takes a team of adults to take down one untrained kid!”

He knew why they were taking care with him; he had a rare quirk and it likely made him worth more in whatever sick deal they had made. He watched as one of the villains slunk off likely to find the rest of the kids. He’d hoped to keep them all here, but seemed he was failing.

* * *

Izuku encountered the villain that had escaped the main fight just moments after realizing the weapon he held was some sort of baton and taser combination. In this moment, it had become very evident just how weak and skinny his quirkless, teenage body was in comparison to a real villain. He whipped his head around desperately, looking for a hero – anyone for that matter – who would know how to use the weapon properly.

Then a thought hit him and began to swell in his chest. He had saved those kids, right? So maybe he could also pretend to be a hero with an amazing quirk just for a little while longer. After all, his ruse had worked and Purple Hair still needed him. Ignoring that degrading voice telling him that he needed to face reality, he found strength in telling himself that Purple Hair had to make it out with no lasting injuries because he had an incredible quirk that could save people, unlike Izuku that had nothing. Those kids in the garage also had their entire lives ahead of them, so Izuku was going to fight with everything he had to keep them safe.

As the villain charged him, Izuku fainted to the right at the last possible moment like when he was tired of getting beat up by Bakugo. Then, gripping the baton with both hands, swung it as hard he could into the base of the villain’s head. There was a crack and a groan as the man hit the ground, arms bracing against the impact.

Izuku, too, was knocked to the ground with the force of his swing, but scrambled to his feet almost instantly. Shaking slightly, Izuku gripped the baton tight enough that his knuckles when white with the effort. He pointed the pronged end stiffly towards the man and slowly crept closer as if not to wake a sleeping beast.

Biting at his bottom lip in worry, Izuku thrust his arms forwards and held the button at the base of the baton. The prongs went live like an angry viper instantaneously and Izuku brought them to the exposed flesh of the man’s ankles, causing his body to immediately stiffened. A slow, unnerving groan left his lips, but Izuku didn’t stop until he saw drool pooling in the dirt.

As soon as he pulled back, the man went limp and unconscious. Since he was still breathing, Izuku decided it was okay to go find Purple Hair. Before he left, however, he grabbed what appeared to be rotten, discarded twine on the ground and hurriedly bound the villain’s wrists to his ankles, grimacing at how the twisted threads rubbed his electrical burn. It probably wouldn’t hold him long should he wake up, but Izuku reasoned that it was better than nothing.

When he reached the main fight, Purple Hair had already lost control of the situation, just like Izuku had fear. What was worse, his only help was going to be a scrawny, quirkless kid. Izuku wished the heroes would hurry up.

Taking advantage of the fact that all the captors were preoccupied with the other teen, Izuku crept up behind one and tasered him. This time, however, his victim did not fall unconscious and instead threw a sloppy, backhanded punch as soon as the device was disconnected. Messy as the attack was, it caught Izuku off guard and he was once again sent into the hard earth.

Above him, two villains began kicking him. Izuku curled in on himself as his ears began to ring. Suddenly, the kicking stopped and someone grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging him away from the fight again. He cried out when his oppressor threw him against the wall before caging his throat in his hand.

“I’ll f*cking break you for this.” The man snarled as Izuku heard the click of a small blade deploy.

The light was too bright and his head buzzed, which probably meant he was suffering some sort of head trauma again. Considering that he had been knocked out using blunt force trauma just a few days prior, it probably wasn’t ideal for him to get knocked around this soon. Still, he pushed through the haze and tried to focus on the man in front of him.

“I thought you needed us… or something,” Izuku trailed off, finding his speech to be slightly slurred and thick like tar in his mouth. He felt something drip from the corner of his lip and hoped that it wasn’t blood.

“Yeah, your bodies, but it doesn’t matter the condition as long as they’re alive.”

Izuku puzzled over that for a second before the hand on his neck squeezed tighter, drawing him out of his stupor. It traveled up until his chin and neck sat in the palm of the villain's hand.

“Although I’m thinking of shorting the client one body.”

So they were hired by someone like Izuku had suspected, but the buyer was only interested in their bodies. Perhaps they were spare parts? Whatever the case, Izuku wasn’t keen on finding out. Deciding to momentarily ignore the previous comment, Izuku responded.

“Well you’re not doing a very good job,” his eyes flicked to Purple Hair’s crumpled body, “since my friend over there looks just about dead.”

The man smiled, revealing his grotesque, rotting and blood covered teeth. “Death and the brink of death are two very different states of the body.” He squeezed just a little tighter around Izuku throat and the teen’s hands flew up to try to pull the older man’s away, but the attempt was futal.

“So,” he grinned, “which one are you?”

Just then, a flash of movement behind the villain’s head caught Izuku’s eye. He could feel the impact on the ground and in the air before he actually saw anything. The hero stood tall and, placing his hands on his hips, smiled just like Izuku had seen him do hundreds of times on TV.

In a thunderous voice filled with confidence and bravery, All Might boomed. “I AM HERE!”

Izuku instantly broke out in a smile. On the other hand, the villain’s expression dropped as he turned to look at the number one hero. “Alive,” Izuku answered. “I’m alive.”

Without wasting the opportunity All Might had created with his entrance, Izuku easily fought free of the villain’s grasp and threw a sloppy punch. Somehow it made contact with the villain’s face and the man fell to the dirt hard enough to stay down.

When Izuku looked up again, All Might was gone as if he had never been there at all. However with one quick look to his right, he breathed a sigh of relief to find that the number one hero had simply gone to help with the rest of the villains. A selfish part of Izuku wished his idol could’ve watched him take down a second villain.

Self disgust instantly filled his mind at that thought. Of course he wasn’t important enough to watch! He was just a quirkless teen, although All Might didn’t know that, and Purple Hair had WAY more guys on him. Izuku was so weak that it took him forever to fight off just one. Meanwhile, the other teen had held his own against multiple people because he had an amazing quirk and talent for fighting. A jealous pride swelled within Izuku as he watched All Might fight alongside the other teen. Purple Hair was so lucky and he was going to make such a good hero!

Even though he was useless, Izuku still wanted to help and turned back to the fight, but there was a tug at his sleeve. Because his nerves were still on edge from the fight, he whipped around with a fist ready only to find an officer standing there.

“Stay back, kid,” the man said. “They’re already done.”

Shocked, Izuku turned to see for himself and, finding it to be true, fell to his knees. Purple Hair was still on the ground and All Might was just tying up villains as a few medical and officer teams rushed past them.

Looking worried, the officer also knelt to his knees in front of Izuku, obstructing his view. “Um, do you need a stretcher?”

“Huh?!” Izuku felt bad for worrying the officer and quickly got to his feet. “No, no I’m fine. Really!” He didn’t mention that ambulance rides were expensive and that he didn’t want his mom to pay for it or the hospital bills because he had gotten himself abducted.

Even as he said this, Izuku had begun shaking and crying. Whether it was the shock or gratitude for being saved, he couldn’t control the emotion that suddenly came over him. The officer looked around frantically, seemingly not knowing what to do. Behind him, Izuku caught the group of kids being escorted out of the garage and he felt a weight being lifted that he hadn’t even realized he was feeling until now.

Distantly, Izuku heard the sound of the sirens shut off and felt someone place a heavy blanket over his shoulders. Under the careful eye of the officer, Izuku crept towards the wall where the second villain he had fought was being arrested and leaned against it before sinking to the ground. A small team of photographers – they were probably working with the police – were documenting the scene and Izuku cringed when the flask went off in front of him. (Weren’t they supposed to ask permission?) The light hurt and, yeah, he most definitely had a concussion.

Izuku must have dozed off for a second because, when he opened his eyes next, it was to someone shaking his shoulder and frantically patting his cheek.

“Young man!” The voice boomed and Izuku groaned as the noise. “My boy, are you alright?”

Izuku lightly batted the hand away and tried to focus on the voice. When he finally did, he startled and jumped to his feet. The sudden movement made his head swim though, and he fell back on his butt. “All Might?” Izuku croaked, albeit excited.

The hero smiled brightly. “Yes, I am here!”

Izuku fought the urge to vomit stomach acid up onto his idol’s shoes from the shear nausea his excitement and loud voice were causing him. He swallowed hard and tried to match the expression.

“Thank you for saving us,” he told his favorite hero. “H-” Izuku gagged and had to take a breath. “How did you even know where to find us?”

It was true, wasn’t it? How had the heroes responded to a potential human trafficking case when all they had received was a fire alarm.

“One of the kids here had a broadcasting quirk, so they notified us after the alarm. I think she’ll make a fine hero, as will you and that other boy!”

Izuku tried to inconspicuously cover his ears by draping the shock blanket over his head like a hood. He didn’t want to offend All Might just because the volume of his voice was really painful to listen to right then and he didn’t want to tell Japan’s top pro to lower his voice. He laid his head between his knees and laced his fingers together over his head so that his forearms pressed against his blanket-covered ears. He tried to ignore that pounding headache the position invoked.

“A-actually, I can’t.” He didn’t want to trick All Might. After all, Izuku would never be able to become a hero.

“Whatever do you mean my boy?” All Might said, sounding softer this time.

“I-I’m,” Izuku started, then thought better of it because people usually lost interest after you said you were quirkless and Izuku selfishly liked the attention from his favorite hero. Instead he asked, “Do you think someone that is quirkless could ever become a hero?”

“My boy,” All Might said after a long, quiet moment. His tone caused Izuku’s head to shoot up and he locked eyes with his idol. “No, I don’t think that would be possible. This job his dangerous, and those without quirks should rely on the strong to keep them safe.”

“Oh,” Izuku said numbly, dropping his pounding head and staring at the ground. Right, he had already known that, so why did it hurt so much more when All Might said it? “Oh, okay.”

“All Might!” A man called near the garage cried, and then the hero was gone.

Izuku gripped the edges of his shock blanket and stood. He wanted to be alone right then in order to process the weight of those words. He hobbled in the direction that they had been heading before their escape. He stopped when he saw Purple Hair get loaded onto a stretcher and taken away. Then he was alone.

A few detectives and officers drifted around him, but Izuku was dissociating, so he didn’t noticed them as he swayed back and fourth, staring out at the distant sea. It was then that something caught his eye. A small wisp of purple smoke had accumulated a few meters away. Curious and uncaring, he stumbled towards the anomaly. As he neared it, it grew larger and larger until it was bigger than him.

Other people had noticed now and there was shouting. Izuku turned to look back the people that were shouting, noting absently their haunted faces. It was then, when his back was turned, that two hands came through the portal and grabbed him. Exhausted from the fight earlier, Izuku was unable to resist and was easily pulled into the void. This time, All Might wasn’t fast enough to save him.

Chapter 8: Missing

Chapter Text

Yagi Toshinori watched helplessly as the green-haired teen he had been talking to was suddenly pulled into a quirk-made portal. After the initial shock of the abduction, the scene exploded with action all around him and he just stood there, useless.

“Sansa,” Detective Tsukauchi shouted next to him. “I need someone who can trace quirks asap!”

“Protect the kids!” Someone else commanded.

Toshinori spun around, scanning for any sign of the ominous mist, but there was no reappearance. Even after several minutes, it seemed that there wasn’t going to be another attack.

“Dammit!” Tsukauchi cursed and ran a hand through his combed hair. The action turned it messy under his fingertips. Toshinori watched him with mounting anxiety, but his was well hidden beneath his hero suit. Suddenly, the scene that had looked so secure was turning into a crisis at the loss of a child.

The hero, too, felt like cursing and punching something. Anything. Whatever it took to save that boy, but he had quite literally disappeared. All Might smiled in an attempt to instill hope within the police and children under his watch.

“I’ll scout the perimeter.” He announced, but his smile felt more forced this time. “Contact me if you need backup here.”

The detective gave him a quick nod in confirmation before heading towards the cluster of kids. A few of them looked more worried than they had a few minutes ago. As the pro leaped into the sky, he tried his best to be the Symbol of Peace. Some days, it was harder than others.

* * *

“GOD DAMMIT!” Someone screamed furiously. There was a clatter and Izuku rolled onto his side and covered his ears to dampen the noise. He registered only briefly that he was no longer by the shipping ports before he was abruptly hauled to his feet.

“Look at this sh*t!” The man was yelling furiously. Izuku squeezed his eyes shut and focused on breathing.

“I’m going to f*ckING KILL THEM!” He roared, flipping a table and sending everything on it crashing to the ground.

“Tomura, please,” the other voice eased gently, yet stern. “You need to get a hold of yourself. At least we have one here with us.”

“One isn’t enough for what I’m doing!” He shook Izuku harshly, causing the teen to almost go limp in his hold. “He’s also broken.”

“It’s nothing the doctor can’t fix.” The other reasoned. “I’ll take him now if you’d like.”

The man holding him grumbled something, unintelligible through the cotton filling Izuku’s ears, that sounded like something along the lines of agreement. Then he was thrown forwards and landed harshly on his shoulder. Somehow he hadn’t pass out and was able to register that he had changed locations again. It was likely that he had traveled through that mist again to end up here. This time the environment was dark, cold, and, somewhere close by, the mechanical cry of machines and devices all working in tandem.

The calmer-voiced man greeted another in the room and then he fell silent, probably disappearing through the portal. Izuku’s eyes remained closed as the newcomer approached him. He was still on the ground, so it wasn’t like he could’ve run even if he wanted to.

“Hello, there.” The stranger greeted him, voice gruff from age and tilted on strange syllables. That sort of crazed tilt to his voice made Izuku reconsider if this was truly the doctor the two men had been talking about just moments before. Who else would it be, though? Even in such a state, he could tell there was something off about him.

“I said hello, boy.” He nudged Izuku’s head with his boot, making him cry out. “Hmm… that’s a hell of a concussion you got, so let’s get you patched up before we harvest your quirk.”

Izuku groaned and for once in his life he was glad that he was quirkless. Or maybe it was bad that he didn’t have a quirk? Izuku was suddenly wracked with the possibilities of what might happen when the doctor found out.

“Just wait here; I’m going to go get some help to move you.”

After what felt like a few minutes, the doctor returned and rolled Izuku onto a stretcher. Then, to Izuku’s wonder and dismay, the stretcher lifted upward effortlessly and followed close behind the man. Izuku cracked his eyes open just enough to peer out, but the streaking light and instant throbbing from the action forced him to close them again. Somewhere along the way, Izuku passed out.

* * *

“Where is my son?!” Mrs. Midoriya cried. Sansa and the woman were sitting in an interrogation room because it was currently the only private place in the entire station. Naomasa Tsukauchi watched them through the two way mirror.

“Hey,” Toshinori Yagi said solemnly, coming up to stand beside Naomasa and handing the detective a coffee. Naomasa glanced down at his lanyard as he took the steaming styrofoam cup. In his deflated form, All Might could go relatively unbothered as many did not recognize him.

“So,” he turned to face the glass, “is this that boy’s mom?”

“Yeah,” the detective confirmed. From questioning witnesses and analyzing recent missing persons reports, they had found that the boy in question was named Izuku Midoriya. He was a 14 year old boy, quirkless, and had been kidnapped along with nine other kids. He was one that had sounded the alarm and began the fight. He was also the one that gotten the younger victims to safety before he was kidnapped by unknown perpetrators.

What Naomasa found strange was that the other victims seemed to genuinely believe that Midoriya had a quirk and some of the younger ones even argued with him about it. Under closer examination, he found that the boy had supposedly faked a quirk in order to intimidate the villains and stall for time. Midoriya could definitely think on his feet, that was for sure.

Even the villains themselves, while not talking much, hadn’t known that he was quirkless. From what the detective gathered, they were looking for kids with quirks and just assumed that their serial kidnappings wouldn’t ensnare such an anomaly. They were wrong, of course, and it thankfully cost the villains their operation. Well, almost…

“What do you think is gonna happen to that kid,” Toshinori asked without taking his eyes off Mrs. Midoriya. His nails were firmly pressed into the soft styrofoam.

Naomasa glanced at his friend, but his expression was unreadable. “I’m not sure what the villains are gonna do once they find out he is quirkless. Hopefully we get to him before they find out. I’ve been talking to some of my underground contacts, so they’ll keep an eye and ear out for the boy. I’m not sure what the masterminds behind this are trying to accomplish, but it can’t be good.”

“Going after kids,” Toshinori groaned, running a hand through the long strands of his golden hair. “Why?”

“If they were after quirks, my guess is that they were going after kids that looked younger because they typically have no training and wouldn’t know how to properly use their quirks.”

“sh*t,” he gripped his coffee tighter, “We need to put out a community warning.”

This time, the detective shook his head. “I disagree. We need to tell people discreetly, then use the ones that agree to it as bait. That way, we can catch the masterminds in the act and save Izuku Midoriya along with anyone else that they captured.”

The hero shrugged. “Easier said than done, Naomasa.”

Naomasa should’ve known he’d be against it immediately, but they had to play dirty to beat society’s filth sometimes. The only problem would be dealing with that teleportation quirk, but Naomasa thought he knew a pro that could help.

“Then let’s just hope that any kidnapping victims can hold on just a little longer,” he grunted before walking off in the direction of the breakroom. He definitely needed more coffee if he was going to stay awake long enough to solve this case.

Chapter 9: Awake

Chapter Text

Izuku squinted. Despite the room being relatively dim, but the lights were almost painful and caused him to shut his eyes again. The heaviness pressing down on his head was so overbearing that he let himself fade beneath it.

* * *

When Izuku woke again, the subtle beeping of medical instruments surrounded him. Although his head feel lighter than before, the incessant beeping made his head throb with every beat. It took him much longer this time to fall asleep, but he did eventually.

* * *

There were people talking around him. Izuku was too tired to make out what they were saying and didn’t recognize the voices. Had he been saved? Was he in the hospital? There was still a fog on his memories and it hurt too much to think, but something about his situation told him that he was wrong. People wouldn’t come looking for a quirkless kid. In fact, people were probably happy that he had disappeared. There were far more pressing matters to attend to than diverting all attention towards saving one useless teenager. Izuku didn’t feel like waking up, so he just drifted awhile…

* * *

Izuku was finally forced to wake up when someone began forcefully shaking his shoulder. Izuku groaned, but when he tried to roll away from the pressure, his head smarted and he stopped. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open for fear of the painful light, but instead found that it wasn’t as bad as his previous attempts.

Opening his eyes all the way, he began to take in the scene. He was sandwiched between monitors on both sides and there was an IV embedded in the crook of his right elbow. The second thing he registered was the small, bald man that had presumably shaken him awake.

“W-who are y-you,” Izuku croaked, voice raw from disuse for who knew how long. The woman was wearing purple scrubs and had her long, blond hair pulled up into a high ponytail. Izuku wondered if her quirk had something to do with her profession, but she left the room before he could ask.

Skipping right over Izuku’s question, the man began documenting Izuku’s vitals. “You were out for a while, young man.”

Izuku groaned and tried to sit up. The action was much harder than he had anticipated and he fell back into his original position.

The man spared him a glance and commented, “You’re muscles are going to be sore since you haven’t really moved for about a week.”

Izuku startled at that. “A-a week?!”

The doctor chuckled and set the clipboard down. “We’ll get you up and moving soon. In fact, my boss wants to see you. You’re the first success we’ve had in a long time! I think your quirklessness and damaged state of mind made you the perfect conduit!”

Izuku got caught on the ‘conduit’ of that statement. “No,” he tried to reason. “I’m not a conduit of anything.”

‘I’m quirkless,’ his brain supplied somewhat uselessly.

But the doctor just smiled and began packing up his notes. “There will be someone in to help you soon,” he grinned before leaving the room.

With the small click from the door closing, Izuku lost it. Tears streamed down his face and he felt unbelievably alone in that moment. He was scared. Scared to look at himself and scared to move, he felt like a child who had had a nightmare and wished desperately to hide under the covers until his mother could comfort him.

Where was his mother, anyways? Was she worried?

He felt hungry, thirsty, and for all the sleep he had had, ridiculously tired. Still, he glanced around the room, searching for anything that could help him escape wherever here was. All he found was the small, square room crammed with his bed and the devices that kept him alive for a week.

Izuku tried to sit up, but pain exploded form his abdomen before he even made it halfway. With a yelp, he fell back onto the bed sheets. His breathing turned laborious as he was waited for the pain to settle down. He wasn’t able to see the source because he was wearing a hospital gown, but it felt as if Bakugo had blown up every bit of him and then tried to piece him back together with glue.

What had happened to him? At least now he had all his memories back, but he still didn’t know what these people that kidnapped him were doing. It was all overwhelming. He was overwhelmed. And tired. Izuku was a lot of things, but he let himself drift off regardless.

* * *

“Hello, Two,” a lady’s voice said, startling Izuku awake.

He blinked, quickly registering from the nurse attire that she must be the person the doctor told him about. He hadn’t gotten a chance to ask her anything before she had left last time he was awake. “Um, sorry, but my name is-”

“Two,” she cut off cheerfully. “Your name is now Two. You are the second to succeed the project and therefore will be kept for study and research purposes.”

“No,” he tried again, feeling confusion wrap his brain. “I want to go home.”

The woman just smiled, the false joy never leaving her features. “Well, you couldn’t go back even if you wanted to. Take a look!”

She held up a mirror and Izuku saw that she was correct about being nearly unrecognizable. For one, his hair had turned the purest form of white, like freshly fallen snow. His evergreen eyes stood out against his pale skin. Even his freckled seemed to be swallowed up by his ghost-like features. Second obvious was the large roman numerals tattooed in thick, black lettering on the left side of his neck. They read “II,” or the number two.

Izuku could feel tears pool in his eyes and he looked away from the stranger in the mirror. “W-what did you do to me?”

The nurse – she was still smiling – retrieved a packet of papers from the folder she held at her side and handed it to Izuku. He eyed it skeptically as she explained.

“This is the detailed report of all your procedures. I’m here to help explain anything.”

Izuku set the papers aside. He was honestly getting a bit frustrated as a result of his swirling fear. “I’ll read this in more detain later, but I’d like you to give me a basic summary.”

“Of course,” she chirped. “You had multiple organic replacements, enhancements, and removals.”

Izuku felt like throwing up. “Organic replacements?!” He couldn’t help the sudden urge to glance down at his stomach. “Wait, so my organs aren’t mine?”

“They are, but they were either grown in lab to hold certain properties, or removed from a host.”

Yup, Izuku was definitely going to throw up, but that’s when he noticed his arms. Stitches ran in long lines as if tracing the path of his skeleton. “Oh my god.”

She noticed that he noticed and rushed to explain that, too, as if this was just standard procedure. “We did bone enhancements, so anywhere you have bones, you’ll have them! Oh,” she paused as to think, “except for your spine.”

“W-what’s on my spine?” He was almost afraid to ask.

“It had a visible enhancement that increases durability, flexibility, and strength. Here, take a look.”

She helped him into a sitting position and held up the mirror again. Izuku turned his head to see the reflection of small, octagon-shaped plates running down his spine. He gulped and closed his eyes. The idea of laying down again was becoming increasingly undesirable.

He tried to change the subject and start on smaller, more digestible questions. “S-so, when am I going to leave this room?”

She moved directly behind Izuku’s bed and he heard the sound of a cabinet door opening. Suddenly, Izuku was acutely aware of how dry his throat was when the sound of running water reached his ears. When she returned to his side, a cup was pressed to his lips and he drank the water greedily. Perhaps he should’ve taken it slow because a second later his stomach rolled and he threw the water back up. Luckily, the nurse had expected it and was ready with a puke bag. When he was done, she spoke.

“Take it slow,” she said, patting his back. “Your body’s gone through a bunch of changes.”

“Yeah,” Izuku croaked before spitting into the bag. “Can I try again?”

She nodded and left to dispose of the bag and get more water. Izuku took the opportunity to move the blanket off himself and drag his legs to the side of the bed. He swung them over and sighed with the effort. It was draining to even move and, even in his gown, he could tell that he had lost a lot of weight. The nurse was at his side a moment later.

“Here’s the water,” she said, placing it in his hands. This time, she had made it a point to barely fill it.

“Drink slow,” she directed. “I’ll remove your IV and get it bandaged. When we get back, I’ll place a new one in your hand.”

“Get back?” Izuku asked after taking a small swig of the water. His mouth tasted bad.

“Yes,” she answered before removing the IV and wrapping his arm. “We need to begin your muscular healing process, so we’ll begin physical therapy today.”

“Um,” Izuku wasn’t a medical professional, but he was pretty sure that physical therapy shouldn’t begin the same day you wake up from intense procedures. “Shouldn’t we wait until I’m mostly healed?”

She just smiled and shook her head. “Nope! Doc wants you up and moving. Since you were brought back from the brink of death and altered significantly, we need your body to begin using what was implemented before it can reject it.”

“So,” Izuku glanced at his arm. The longer he looked, the more ‘Frankenstein’s monster’ he appeared. At least he didn’t have any stitches on his face. “Just to clarify, you want me to force my body to use and except what violated it.”

“Yes, but you don’t need to be so negative. Look, we gave you power.”

Izuku met her dull, joyless eyes that betrayed the perpetual, upward curve of her lips. “But at what cost?”

She stared at him for a minute. Then, she held her hands out. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

* * *

If he was being honest, Izuku had passed out twice before he had left his room. Even so, the nurse insisted he complete a set of exercises before he could return to his room. The first of which would mean actually walking to the room where he would be completing the exercises. Before his current state, it would’ve been a breeze. After all, he had grown accustomed to running from his bullies, but now his bones had turned to twigs and his muscles ceased to exist. In every reflective surface that caught his gaunt features and skeleton-like frame he couldn’t help the voice in his head that screamed this was all a nightmare. That he was in a coma in some hospital and his mother was sleeping beside his bed. That the walls and floors lied and he wasn't unrecognizable.

Izuku gripped the nurse’s arm for dear life as he hobbled slowly down the corridor. That was another eerie thing about this place. At first glance, it appeared to be a medical facility, but under closer inspection, one could see the discrepancies between the two. For one, the halls were dim and desolate, as if Izuku and the nurse were the only two people occupying the facility. In addition, every room they past was pitch black inside. Izuku eyed them anxiously, his imagination getting the better of him and supplying the idea that there were ghosts or monsters watching him from inside the void's depths.

After what felt like an eternity, they stopped at the entrance to of one such room, but the darkness and silence were quickly banished with the flick of a light switch. The space around them was quickly filled by the sound of mechanical buzzing from the artificial lights above.

The room itself was rather large and built like a gym. The main difference was that there were more devices for physical therapy than workouts alone. There was also a mat for sparring in the center of the room, which was somewhat intimidating considering it was only him and the strange nurse.

She must’ve noticed his hesitation because she patted where his hands gripped her arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry. We aren’t dong much today. In fact, that walking alone accounts for one of the three other activities you’ll be trying today.”

Izuku merely nodded in response and allowed her to guide him over to a corner where they kept the smaller equipment. Together they worked on very basic exercises which had Izuku skeptical in the beginning. However, after five squeezes of the hand grip, he realized almost embarrassingly just how hard the road to recovery was going to be.

After about a half hour, Izuku was back in his bed. The IV had been moved to his hand for mobility purposes. The nurse had done it before she left just like she said, which Izuku greatly appreciated.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” she had told him. “For now just rest.”

Izuku didn’t need to be told twice. Sure his instincts were telling him to stay vigilant, but his body was screaming for rest. In the end, he relented and fell quickly into death-like slumber. He realized only vaguely that she’d never told him her name.

* * *

Clair Voyance – Clair for short – had been working as a nurse for Dr. Tsubasa ever since dropping out of her hero training. He was an interesting man with just a hint of crazy and a soup of ideas. They were planning to change the world she had rejected and she wanted in.

Then they stared plotting the creation of Nomu, but that was before Clair had joined them. They had found success with an almost pure transformation. Clair had seen him and he was incredible, but the purpose of the quirkless boy he had brought in was not to be used for means of transportation like his predecessor. He also wasn’t going to be a lapdog.

No, they needed him for something much greater. Who would guess something so worthless could’ve become something of a treasure. A novelty!

Clair picked nervously at her cuticles. The doctor and she had agreed to erase his memories, but she had betrayed him. If he found out that she went against his wishes, would he harvest her quirk as well? She shook her head. It was more useful for Izuku Midoriya to retain his memories because, while she believed in the plan to change the world, mindless child zombies weren’t the way. After all, if she could turn against heroes, then so could children if taught the path to the future. People also fought harder if they truly believed in a cause.

The only problem was that they had to condition All for One’s goals in a way that cemented their purpose as a necessary evil. Permitting him the independence to make quick decisions during a fight also meant he had the intelligence to rebel. She couldn’t let him think he could do that.

As Clair walked past Two’s room, she used her quirk Voyance, which gave her x-ray vision, to confirm he was still inside. She smiled just a little wider; it felt nice to see progress.

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Shouta Aizawa was not happy about being at a case briefing with other tired underground heroes at 6 am, let alone with All Might present who obviously did not understand the meaning of the phrase ‘sit still and listen.’ The man was talkative and antsy, and most of the questions he asked had either been answered already or were irrelevant to the case. It turned what should’ve been an hour meeting into a three hour long conference. Shouta was pulling his own hair out by the end of it.

Of course he was happy to help, but kid cases were difficult. They often were polluted with too many emotions, causing people to act irrationally. Shouta knew kids – he was a teacher after all – and wanted more than anything to watch them grow and flourish in the society he helped to protect, but acting quickly would only scare the perpetrators off. From Shouta’s years of experience, it was best to remain in the shadows in order to flush the villains out, but with All Might on the case, they were just asking for the news labels to blow the story up. In fact, information leaks had already reached the ears of the buzzing reporters that swarmed like flies on dead meat.

Detective Tsukauchi must’ve noticed him lurking by the coffee machine because he came over once the case briefing was over.

“So,” the detective began, eyeing the three cups of coffee Shouta had poured himself. Sighing, the pro gave him one and held the other two, one in each hand.

“What do you think about this case?” He asked in a casual manner, but Shouta had known the detective long enough to see he was worried about their chances at finding the kidnapped boy in one piece. Perhaps he wanted Shouta to confirm his inner qualms with how the investigation was supposed to play out.

Glaring, the hero’s eyes latched onto the Symbol of Peace who was currently taking pictures with several officers. “Take him off.”

Tsukauchi let out his breath and squeezed his eyes shut for a half second. “I know how you feel about popular heroes treading on underground territory and that your way of doing things clash, but he needs to be on this case. For one, he was there when that boy was taken. And two,” Tsukauchi gave him a knowing smile, “he boosts moral. You known as well as I that cases often run cold once they lose public interest. You know how people get when they realize someone doesn’t have a quirk!”

Shouta knew. God, he knew. He had pulled many a quirkless person off the edge of a roof or bridge during shifts.

“I want to bring these villains to justice, and if that means sacrificing a little secrecy, then I’m alright with that.”

Shouta sighed, “So there’s no convincing you?”

“Nope,” Tsukauchi cheered rather tiredly and made a toasting gesture with his coffee mug.

“Alright,” Shouta said, throwing away both empty coffee cups. If Shouta hadn’t been so perturbed by the whole situation, then he might’ve smirked at the fact that the detective hadn’t even finished one yet. Instead he grunted, “Then I’m taking a damn nap.”

* * *

Katsuki Bakugo hadn’t seen Deku for two weeks now. At first he’d thought that the nerd was just sick, but two weeks (it was almost three now) was a long time to disappear for. He refused to worry over the nerd – he’d probably just come down with a bad flu or some sh*t like the weakling he was – but Katsuki had this nagging feeling that Deku wasn’t busy eating chicken noodle soup. The nerd loved school; he’d even come to class once after Katsuki had given him a second degree burn on his arm. To add to that annoyance of not knowing, he couldn’t stop replaying the last day he saw him over and over again in his head. Had he pushed Deku too far? No, he knew that they were just teasing and it’s not like Katsuki and his extras were any rougher than they usually were. Still, he looked so hurt standing by that fountain…

He didn’t care that Deku was gone. He grit his teeth. He didn’t care.

“Katsuki!” His mother screamed angerly from downstairs.

“What?!” He fired back.

“Get you ass down here!”

Rocketing up – literally, he used his quirk to blast himself upwards – he stomped down and into the living room. His father was doing a crossword and making it a point to look passive like he always did. His mother, on the other hand, handed him a small, plastic container housing a meal. Whatever she had made was still warm and fogged up the inside with its deliciously-scented steam.

“What this?” Katsuki glared at the floral cloth that secured everything together. “You kickin’ me out or something?”

“It’s for Inko, brat” she continued, but her tone lacked bite. “With this whole case, she needs us more than ever.”

“What case? The one with her dirtbag husband?” Katsuki got a hard slap to the head for that.

“No, Katsuki,” his mother glared, eyes flicking away for a mere millisecond. “Izuku, he’s, well,” she struggled. “He’s missing, honey.”

Katsuki felt his stomach drop despite his mind denying that he cared in the slightest. His first thought was that Deku had watched the wrong hero and villain fight and got swepted up in the mayhem, but then that stupid f*cking image of him by the goddamn fountain rushed into his head. Why was Izuku on the roof that day, anyways? No one had said anything about it at school, so how was he supposed to know?

“How do you know he’s missing!” Katsuki shouted, a bit angrier than usual.

His mother gave him a pitying look and he hated it. “It’s been all over the news, but they haven’t released his identity yet. I know because Inko is very upset.”

Why wasn’t she screaming back at him like she normally would when he raised his voice? Katsuki felt like hurling the food out the window and make her give him some real answers, but he instead gripped the container tighter.

“Why the hell didn’t anyone at school tell us!”

His mother gave him another look. “I assumed that you would’ve seen the media coverage and come to me if you needed help. Since I didn’t think you guys were friends anymore, I thought it was best to just let you work things out on your own.”

Katsuki grit his teeth again. He was actually going to explode. “When would I have seen that?!” Seriously, how had he missed such a huge thing?

“Well I’m sorry!” His mother shouted back, but she sounded more broken than before. “I don’t know much either, okay?”

There were so many questions and no one seemed to have the answer. Katsuki snarled and turned for the door. It seemed he would have to look elsewhere.

“Fine, I’ll take this stupid food,” he growled. His blood boiled hotly, but he wasn’t so sure it was entirely anger this time. He tried to push the feeling down and, just as he had grabbed the doorknob, he turned around.

“And I’ll figure out what’s happening,” he grumbled, not waiting for a response as he slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Auntie Inko was a mess. When Katsuki had seen the cop cars parked outside her apartment complex, he guessed that she was going to be a mess, but that was a severe understatement.

When she had answered the door, both her and her apartment mirrored the aftermath of a tornado and were almost unrecognizable. Noise and the sound of shuffling items poured out as well, peaking his curiosity and causing him to attempt to peer inside without looking too nosy. Auntie Inko must’ve noticed his eyes straying over her shoulder because she took his free hand in hers and gave him a smile that was a little too forced to be called happy.

“Won’t you come in, Katsuki?” Her voice was rough and wispy, like it would be carried off by the wind should it blow too hard. Her jade hair was a mess as well, pulled up into a messy bun which was more loose, floating hair than bun at this point. There were red, salty streaks trailing down her face from tears she had likely been shedding continuously. Now that Katsuki actually met her eyes, her realized that she was crying right then.

“Please, Katsuki?” She sobbed into his hand after pulling it close to her forehead.

Not sure what to do, he nodded and said, “Yeah, I brought you a meal.” He looked her up and down once more. “You look like you could really use it.”

Inko retained her smile as she gently pulled him inside almost instantly and ushered him to the couch. Before he sat down, however, he made a beeline for her fridge.

“Mom made you some food,” he yelled from the kitched. “I’ll leave it in the fringe. It’s the thing wrapped in a towel or something.” Katsuki gave said towel a poke before closing the fridge door.

He tried to ignore the fact that there was nothing in the fridge to begin with except for a single bottled water and celery. He sighed and reminded himself to help her go grocery shopping later. Then he made his way back to the living room where he sat next to Inko. Across from them sat two men. The only separation between the two parties was a small coffee table where three cups of tea sat relatively undisturbed.

Auntie Inko must’ve noticed that he had noticed and rushed to offer him some with that Midoriya hospitality, but he politely declined. He was more intrigued by the two men that continued with the conversation they must’ve been having with her when he arrived. Katsuki, for the most part, tuned them out. He was more interested in why there were officers tearing up Auntie Inko’s house. More specifically, Izuku’s room.

“Katsuki,” Auntie Inko urged, placing her small hand on his knee. He jumped slightly at her touch and took his eyes off the officers behind the two men.

“What?” He barked, looking to Auntie Inko for answers, but she just smiled dimly.

“As we were saying,” the man with long, black hair said to him, sounding slightly annoyed. “This information is very sensitive, so no spilling it to anyone outside this home. Got it?”

The teen nodded curtly.

“Verbal answers please,” the other man smiled.

“f*ck, yes. Happy?”

“Katsuki,” Inko’s gentle tone reached him. “They’re just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well sitting here talking isn’t helping anyone. We should be out there looking for him!”

The adults in the room looked at him sadly and he hated it. He hated their pity. Why did everyone pity him after Deku went and disappeared! Hated that they probably thought he liked Izuku – Deku – when he most certainly did not. He hated that nerd! Deku was useless and annoying. Katsuki bit his lip. It would be better if he just disappeared forever, right?

Thankfully, the investigators seemed to want to move on, too. Taking a sip of the tea and grimacing just slightly, the hobo-looking one began. “How do you know Izuku Midoriya?”

“School and we grew up together,” he said, watching the other investigator stare at him before scribbling something down.

“Do you know why he was kidnapped?”

“f*ck, he was kidnapped?” Katsuki gave a slight laugh that was devoid of any humor.

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t know, but he was probably watching a hero fight or some sh*t. That nerd loves studying heroes – people. That or he was chased off.”

“He was bullied?” The long-haired man stated rather than asked, glaring with almost crimson irises.

Katsuki suddenly felt an odd sensation. Was that nervousness?

“Yes,” he answered hesitantly, seeing where this was going.

“Did you bully him?”

Katsuki swallowed hard and looked down at the floor. Why was he embarrassed? The nerd deserved it!

“Yes,” he felt the hand on his knee squeeze slightly and made the mistake of glancing over at Auntie Inko. She had tears streaming down her face and had her eyes locked on the mug in front of her.

The questions continued like that for a while before Katsuki got tired of being the center of attention – which was a rare thing – and decided it was time to get some answers for himself.

Watching one of Izuku’s All Might figurines roll out of his room and into sight, Katsuki found his place on where to begin. .

“Hey, why the f*ck are you tearing Deku’s room up?” He growled a bit more menacingly than intended.

The two men sighed nearly simultaneously as if they were talking to a dumb kid and needed the extra air to fuel patience. Katsuki wasn’t dumb.

“Why-”

“Because we want to be sure that he wasn’t being targeted beforehand,” longhair said somewhat rudely. “If there’s a pattern, we want to know.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t buying that bullsh*t, but decided to probe a bit more before calling it. “If no one else has been taken, then there’s no pattern.”

The man taking notes opened his mouth, then promptly shut it. Katsuki grinned; now he was finally getting some real answers.

“Ah, so there is a pattern,” he prompted. “How many is a pattern?”

“Three. Four counting Midoriya.” Note Boy answered. The other man’s head instantly turned towards his partner’s like he had just told a secret. Still, though, he didn’t say anything and it was obvious that Hobo was following the lead of the other man.

“What do they have in common?” Katsuki could feel his neck hairs standing on end.

“They,” he began and Katsuki feared for a brief second that he was going to reconsider, but he continued nonetheless. “They were all quirkless.”

He wanted to ask more, but then an officer popped his head into the living room. “Sir, we found something.”

As the man got up to leave, Katsuki stood up. “Hey!”

The man turned to face him, his rough-looking partner still on the couch below him.

Not waiting for confirmation, Katsuki gave his cruelest glare. “Why were you really searching Deku’s room.”

The detective smiled, but didn’t say anything. This time, it was Inko that answered.

“I think he might’ve returned last night, then left.”

Chapter 11: Low Tide

Chapter Text

“Why would you tell him that?” Toshinori heard Eraser Head from across the office as he pounded his fist on the desk in frustration. The two of them had apparently just returned from the mother’s house, called in because of a “hopeful report” as Sansa had put it. (He had caught the officer when they returned since the detective was busy.) Toshinori had assumed that everything had gone smoothly, but Eraser Head’s tone made him reconsider.

It was a good thing that the erasure hero didn’t yet recognize him in his civilian garb; he probably wouldn’t act so vulnerable if he new All Might was also in the police station. He got a sense that the other pro didn't necessarily like him all that much.

Toshinori grabbed a few papers from the waste bin a few desks away and discreetly listened in on the conversation. The detective had his own office branching off the main processing area of the station, but he had left the door open. Even without the visual, though, there was a smile tilting the next words Tsukauchi spoke. “Why are you really asking?”

“Because you just outed that information to that kid’s bully! Now he’s gonna go tell his friends and they’re gonna tell their friends and then our cover will be blown.”

“Oh c’mon, Shouta. We both know that that’s a lie.”

Toshinori glanced towards the other pro. It didn’t seem like a lie to him; it was a perfectly plausible explanation. Then again, he wasn’t the one with the lie detection quirk.

He heard Eraser Head groan before nearly flopping into the seat in front of Tsukauchi’s desk. Then he covered his eyes with his hands and sighed. This time, Toshinori had to really listen in order to make out what he was saying.

“I just don’t want innocent kids to get pulled into this, Detective. These are dangerous people and I don’t think they’d hesitate to make him disappear, too, should he start poking his nose into places it doesn’t belong.”

“Yes, well,” Tsukauchi hummed, folding his fingers under his chin to prop his head. “How are we cats gonna find the right holes if we don’t let a few mice go?”

Eraser Head was quiet for a second before he got up and left.

* * *

“They’re called Chimeras!” Izuku could hear Dr. Tsubasa cry out in excitement. He had been moved out of his hospital room – he guessed it was a few days ago, but there was no way of knowing how long exactly – and he was still undergoing physical therapy and building up his strength. His room was now in the doctor’s dark lab. Enormous, pillar-like test tubes lined the walkway like cylindrical prisms emanating an ominous light. They were mostly empty, but a couple held kids around his age or younger. They thrashed in perpetual unrest; Izuku watched in sadness and wonder as their hair slowly lost its color.

“As you can see, we start them here!” The doctor gestured towards one such tube. “Certain organs are grown in lab through genetic modification of various DNA samples.”

Izuku had heard of such research. Basically the doctor cut certain sequences of DNA using restriction enzymes and put them through an intense process of application to modify organs for replacement. Izuku hoped that the genetic material he manipulated was from willing quirk donors, but that probably wasn’t the case. In the end, it had the same result which was to create abominations. Quirkless people like him were like stem cells in a sense. With the correct tweaks, they could take on whatever traits were so desired. In mythology, Chimeras were triple-headed beasts born into existence and, in a way, Izuku had been reborn as well. He wasn’t exactly sure the extent of the doctor’s modifications, but he was planning to find out. The more he knew, the easier it would be to formulate a plan.

His room and the other ones that weren’t in use yet were built into the walls with glass completely covering the side facing out. Inside, the remaining three walls were gray concrete.

Izuku was given a single mattress that laid in the left corner of his room. On top of the mattress was a small, rough blanket that could’ve easily been a towel. In the opposite corner was a toilet and shower that shared a privacy curtain, a sink, soap, and a drawer with countless pairs of white shorts and white shirts. It reminded him of the prisons or asylums he had read about, albeit a nicer version. The only door was the glass wall, which was deceiving because it wasn’t actually glass. It was some energy barrier that acted like a wall and prevented anything from passing through it. Izuku had tried.

Suddenly, the lights in Izuku’s room – his cage – snapped on to reveal him sitting on his ‘bed.’ The people on the other side were standing just far enough away to be back lit, so he could only make out their silhouettes. He wondered of these people’s intentions, concluding that they were likely villains here to survey a new product based on the dramatic way Izuku was presented. It was like he was some new car or a rare artifact – perhaps he was. Ever since he had been moved here, Dr. Tsubasa had been showing him off like a prized, golden hog.

“And we have more on the way! After the conclusion of our trial period, we will be opening up rentals for anyone in this line of work looking for the perfect weapon.”

Izuku shuddered and bit his lip. He wouldn’t cry. Not here, not with so many eyes looking for cracks in the weapon. He felt like shrinking away from these stranger’s gaze, but instead attempted to put on a poker face in order to keep up the facade. It’s not like any of these people would help him anyways if he called out. Instead he just tried to disassociate and feel nothing at all. If one was not present in the moment, then the moment could not affect them, right?

There was murmuring and quiet discussion as the group moved on. However one figure caught Izuku’s attention because he stayed behind just a little longer. At first, he though the man might be an underground hero about to save him, but Izuku knew that his hope came from a place of desperation, not rational thought. He stood still, the dim light of the orange tubes behind him illuminating his figure. They stared at each other for what felt like minutes, but he eventually turned and rejoined the group. Izuku squirmed; his hands were clammy and he felt like he might be sick.

Even after the group had left, Izuku remained in virtually the same position as if he were a doll. The longer he sat there in his own head, the more he fell into that downward spiral. Was he convincing enough? If he wasn’t, would he be disposed of like defective part? Recycled into a new test subject? The thought of housing past experiment's parts within him made his stomach roll. He recognized that he was just freaking himself out, but he couldn’t quite stop. Besides, how would the heroes even find him when he didn’t even know where he was. Izuku itched at the scars running down his arms. They could find him, right? He could still be a hero, right? Sure he’d never heard of villains converting into heroes, but he wasn’t a villain.

‘Yet,’ the voice in the back of his head whispered.

They’d understand that whatever he did wasn’t his choice, right? Then the images and videos of villains and vigilantes that news stations often played flashed through his mind and suddenly he was the one holding the knife. He was the one under ‘Wanted for Murder.’

“No, I’m a victim. A product of my environment,” he murmured, but the words were void of any confidence. He scooted back on the mattress until his back pressed up against the junction of the walls. Then he brought his knees to his forehead and hands to his ears.

If the news thought he was a villain, then so would the people. From his experience, humans often took the less complicated, more black and white path. How would anyone ever trust him?

His lights shut off again and he flopped over to lay on his bed and tried to gear towards rational thought. So much had happened in such a small amount of time and with it came a slew of questions that made Izuku anxiously tug at his colorless hair. The most important question right now was if the heroes were actively looking for him and he clung to the small sliver of hope said, yes, they were. If they gave up, then Izuku wasn’t quite sure he could handle the bundled pain in his chest that threatened to break open.

However, that dark place in the back of his mind lurched forward suddenly and he was wracked with uncertainty. What if no one cared enough about quirkless kids to put in the amount of effort needed to find them. They had probably been looking initially, but lost interest and funding once he was discovered to be quirkless. Society didn’t care about people like him; people thought that useless things were better off gone. Of course they would never say it out loud, but Izuku had witnessed that look a million times in his friends, classmates, teachers, and even his own mother.

Izuku choked on a sob. The blade of opportunity had cut him loose and he’d fallen in to exactly where society believed useless people like him belonged. Izuku lifted his head just slightly to see the other kids in the tubes outside his room in the lab.

‘No,’ his told that darkness. ‘They don’t deserve to be here. They have their entire lives to live and people that love them.’

Could he save those kids, too? Even if it was too late for Izuku, maybe those kids didn’t have to become weapons like he was being made to be. Even if All Might had said that quirkless kids couldn’t be heroes, maybe there was still a chance to play the role until the real pros showed up like last time.

Izuku grinned, but the light in his eyes was surly consumed by the darkness engulfing him.

‘No,’ he thought, shaking his head as that self deprecating side of himself came out. ‘It was that other boy that fought the villains off. I just pointed the kids in the right direction. Heroes save people. I merely did what any civilian would do if someone was in trouble.’

He felt pathetic tears running down his face and repulsed by his own helplessness. For once in his life, he actually felt as if he had been swallowed up into a place that not even All Might could touch. If not even the greatest hero of all time could save him, then how could Izuku even hope to save himself. What could he even do from the confines of his cell anyways. These people weren’t like the ones that had first captured him and he was alienated from anyone even remotely wanting to help him. He felt antsy, yet exhausted.

He wished he had a notebook and computer, but the ladder was definitely not allowed for the reasons of secrecy. Maybe he would ask for a marker set? Then he could draw on the walls to pass the time. The light schedule on days that he wasn’t being shown usually meant that the lights stayed on for most of what he thought was the day. The only reason they were currently off was for dramatic effect.

Staring up at the black, barren ceiling, Izuku imagined galaxies spiraling in intricate patterns above his head. Tomorrow, he would ask Dr. Tsubasa for those markers to draw real cosmos there. That hope, at least, would get him through another day.

* * *

All for One. It was a name that should never be taken lightly. Izuku had learned this fact upon his very first step into the man’s dark lair. Sitting like some king, he ruled over the wires and machinery that were woven into his very person. Izuku felt a shiver roll down his spine. Even without eyes, All for One seemed to see right through Izuku.

A wicked grin plastered his face when he beckoned. “Come here, my boy.”

Izuku could feel the doctor hovering inches behind him. With no where else to go, Izuku crept forwards slowly, head lowered like a nervous dog, until he reached the base of the man’s thrown. Izuku flinched when a heavy hand suddenly fell onto his head.

“Are his memories from before intact?”

“No,” the doctor said from behind Izuku.

Izuku suppressed a reaction to the statement. He did, in fact, have his memories as far as he knew. It wasn’t like he had any trouble remembering anything before he woke up here. So, yeah, that was definitely something. Perhaps his head injury had somehow prevented whatever they attempted to use to erase his memories?

“After all,” All for One continued, “a shackle on the mind is stronger than any bodily restraint.”

“Yes, I agree.”

Then there was a pause as Izuku felt All for One’s eyeless face scrutinizing his figure.

“Ah, I see,” his voice echoed menacingly as his fist closed on Izuku’s scalp and he was suddenly yanked up into the air by his hair. He yelped, both out of surprise and pain.

“Two.” The man commented, seeing Izuku’s tattoo on his neck.

The doctor rushed to explain. “Yes, I decided it was easiest if we started numbering them. They don’t remember their names anyways.”

“Let’s test that.” Izuku heard the villain say as he lowered Izuku back onto his feet before gripping his chin in one hand and forcing it upward so that Izuku had no where to look but at the marred, grotesque flesh. “What is your name?”

Izuku decided to play along for now, willing all his fear down any trying his best to sound monotone. Only half succeeding in controlling the shake of his vocal chords, he answered. “Two.”

“Who do you serve?”

Izuku hesitated because, while he knew the man’s name was One for All, no one had actually told him if he was serving a single person or a cause. That’s perhaps why, in his panic, he gave the lamest answer.

“Evil,” he said and mentally face palmed. He was so dead. To his surprise, however, All for One grinned.

“Very good, Two. I am evil’s incarnate. I am the Symbol of Evil, but you will serve under a different master someday, so do not come to only associate me with that term.” Satisfied, he let go of Izuku and pushed him back towards the doctor.

“I want him field tested. We’ll discuss the information later.”

To Izuku’s surprise, the doctor’s mustache twitched and he looked baffled. “But he’s not ready yet! He hasn’t even undergone basic combat training.”

“Quit whining,” All for One scolded harshly as if he were talking to a fussy child. “You must take your toys out of their packaging if they are to be fully appreciated. Experience is the best teacher, Doctor. A bird does not learn to fly simply because it has seen its parents do so. No, it takes a lead of faith. That is all; you may go.”

With a slight pout, Izuku was led through a portal that took them back into the lab. The doctor had begun muttering to himself and, yeah, maybe this wasn’t the right time to ask. Being a mutterer himself, Izuku knew how frustrating and embarrassing – though the doctor probably wouldn’t be embarrassed – it was when someone interrupted your thoughts. Still, he really wanted those markers or anything to keep him busy, really.

Hesitantly, he tapped the doctor’s shoulder. “Um, Doc?”

The man visibly startled. “Yes, what is it?”

“U-um,” Izuku squeaked, suddenly regretting ever speaking up in the first place and internally cursing himself. “I was wondering if I could have some markers? You know, to draw with?”

The doctor’s mole eyes narrowed behind his goggle-like glasses. He seemed to think about it for a minute before responding, “Tell you what, boy. You have a job coming up, so I’ll allow you to take a slight detour to the art store if you so chose.”

Inside, Izuku was beaming. Sure he was nervous about whatever he was doing – it was villainous after all – but he could dampen whatever atrocities All for One was plotting if he was in charge of his own actions.

When his nurse showed up to take him later for rehabilitation, Izuku passed the doctor working in his lab. As he walked, Dr. Tsubasa’s computer screen came into view and so too what was displayed. Izuku caught a picture of his apartment complex, but that’s not what made his stomach drop. A red circle enclosed the door to his house as a big, red “X” marked it for destruction. Izuku felt nausea roll through his stomach as he suddenly understood exactly what they were planning.

That was why he hadn’t had any combat training. That was why they had asked about his memories. After all, one didn’t need much training to kill an unarmed, sleeping woman. And, if he didn’t have any memories, why should he not follow direct orders? Izuku swallowed and he was sure it was loud enough to hear above the buzz of machinery.

His hands suddenly felt clammy and his limb weak. How was he going to fake killing his mother? If he just turned himself in, All for One would kill her himself. If he didn’t kill her, then All for One would kill him and her both. Izuku bit his lip to stop himself from muttering. How could one trick someone omnipotent?

As Izuku stepped into the gym, he tried to calm himself enough to formulate a plan, but all that kept running through his head were those stupid markers he asked for. In retrospect, it all seemed to disgustingly shallow now. Unless…

'Markers,' he thought. 'I’ll use markers.'

He didn’t know how exactly, but he would figure it out.

Chapter 12: Outside

Chapter Text

Izuku was teleported about a quarter of a mile away from his neighborhood at around midnight. The feeling was surreal because he felt as if he was dreaming. Perhaps he was. He hadn’t known how long he’d been gone, but little things – such as the hedges being cut or a house painted a new color – thew him off. Still, the familiar streets tugged at emotions he had all but forgotten while existing in that hellish lab. Even under these circ*mstances, it felt good to be outside.

He had been given a dark-green hoodie, so he flipped the hood up over his head to hide his hair and tattoo as he turned left. His first stop would be a small convenience store on the corner of the next intersection that he knew carried a small collection of art supplies. The doctor had also given him a black gas mask because he was worried about Izuku’s internal regenerative ability (the doctor hadn’t tested that yet, so he was being cautious.) Still, Izuku thought it had more to do with resisting capture if he came into contact with a gas-related, inhalant quirk hero such as the one Midnight used. It also worked well with his hood to obscure his face, yet another ploy to prevent recognition of a missing person. As much as Izuku would like to be recognized, now was not the time because All for One was still a threat to the public. Even if Izuku wasn’t a hero, he could still try to do some good, right? After all, one could do more lasting damage from the inside than the outside. The problem would be orchestrating the outside forces. Pulling the mask up from where it hung loose around his neck, he secured it to his face while keeping his eyes fixed on the store that seemed to glow under the dim street lights.

As he neared the entrance, Izuku could make out the cashier talking to a man buying a case of beers through one of the many windows facing the street. Instead of going through the front doors, however, Izuku slid up to the side of the store where he had once seen three teens a few years older than him drinking and smoking once. They had apparently convinced the shop keeper that day to give them the goods. If Izuku remembered correctly, the worker had been quirkless and, when the news broke out, the guy had lost his job. Izuku’s eyes darkened at the memory of the news broadcast that covered the incident. Not only was it evidence for companies not to hire quirkless for fear of them not being strong enough to resist quirked bullies, but it also painted the quirkless as easily manipulated and fearful of the law. He supposed they were correct in a sense; Izuku was manipulated by villains and doubted anyone, including heroes, would keep looking for someone useless to society like him.

On late night trips, Izuku had also witnessed workers sometimes taking their breaks there. After the previously mentioned incident, the store lost a bit of footing and was consistently understaffed. For that reason, the door was usually left unlocked to prevent someone from locking themselves out and having to go through the front to get let back in.

Izuku inhaled sharply and, slipping his hands out of his hoodie pockets, planted one on the doorknob. He hadn't been given any money, so stealing would at least make him a petty criminal. He grimaced and clutched the knob a little tighter. Was he even sure he needed this stuff? Couldn’t he just use something from his bedroom?

He shook his head. No, it needed to be from this store because he needed to show up on camera in order to get the heroes on his trail. Not only that, but rifling through supplies in his room could stir his mother. If she saw him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go back to All for One and then they’d both die and the villain overlord would get away.

The plan was to show up on camera while stealing art supplies that he could use to leave a note for the authorities. He’d also need something unique to the store in order to lead the heroes to the footage. Remembering the employee at the front had guilt raising up within him because this could very likely make her lose her job, but this was necessary in the greater scheme. Maybe he could ask nicely in his note to pardon her?

He was hoping that as he turned the knob. Still, a part of him wished someone would be on the other side and ask him what he was doing. Maybe they would call the cops and he’d tell All for One that his plans would have to be rescheduled. If only he had more time to come up with something other than a loosely-strung plan. To his disappointment, though, no one stopped him and the door swung open on a silent note.

Izuku took another shaky breath before stepping into the dark hallway. The first thing he noticed was the temperature change; it was much hotter inside the store. Between his kidnapping, hospital, and lab experiences, the feeling of warmth had been all but forgotten. He had forgotten the comfort of warmth and, for some odd reason, it brought tears to his eyes. He hadn’t even known he’d been missing it as he brought icy fingers to his face to wipe away the wetness before it overflowed. Before he could waste any more time, he moved towards the door on his right that lead to the main store and was leaking light out its seams. Normally, it was only accessed by employees that needed to go into the back of the store where product storage was (to his left,) but, if he remembered correctly, it was also located at the back of the store. Conveniently enough, that was where the store kept its calligraphy and such.

He debated for a second to turn left and follow that dark hallway where boxed inventory was, but decided it would be too much of a hassle to try to locate what he was after. Plus, he would have to tear open boxes which would not only be loud, but take too much time.

Slipping through the entrance door, Izuku darted towards the adjacent corner isle. Luckily, there were rows of isles blocking his movement from view of the cashier and a camera perfectly trained on the section. Although, Izuku noted, she probably wouldn’t have seen him anyways because she sounded very invested in the conversation with the guy buying beers.

Quickly, Izuku grabbed two notebooks, a small package of markers – they were the high quality kind that he truly felt bad about stealing – and a small spool of yarn. Then he remembered that he needed something unique from the store. Thankfully, this particular company also had its own brand of products, so he pulled a rabbit keychain with the brand’s logo plastered on the tag from the nearby clearance rack. While he shoved all the items into his hoodie pocket, Izuku wished greatly that he had thought to bring for a bag. Then he remembered that he was technically in the school and art section and hurriedly looked for a bag.

After refusing the colorful, plastic anime bags, he found a small, single strap black bag. Ripping the tag off, he unzipped the body of the bag and shoved his items inside. Then he buckled the bag in the front so that one strap fell over his shoulder and the other one met it center chest. The bag itself sat snugly on his back as he slipped out from the door he came in. He crept up to survey the scene before making his escape, but nothing had changed in the slightest. When he saw that the two people inside were, in fact, still talking, Izuku walked briskly away from the store.

Feeling disgusted with himself and utterly miserable, he made his way to the home he couldn’t stay in. As he walked through the streets, he realized just how hungry and thirsty he was. If he had had an appetite, he would’ve also stocked up on food and water.

* * *

He slipped in easily through his window, a fact of which was more than a little concerning considering his mother currently lived alone. Izuku tried to swallow back the nausea that rolled through him as his mind uselessly repeated, ‘lived alone.’ Would they ever be able to live in the same house again?

Izuku was used to being stealthy after suffering years of bullying. What had surprised him was the incredible ability his enhanced eyes now contained. Since the streets outside had been lit up, he hadn’t noticed the change. However now that he was in a completely dark room, his modifications kicked into gear.

While being able to see better in the dark was a useful skill, it didn’t exactly sit right with him. Izuku had always been prone to overthinking, after all, and now was no different. Questions such as “What was done to give him perfect vision and night vision,” or, “Were they even his eyes, or were they just made to look like his eyes,” consistently flowed through his thoughts and tormented him.

Izuku shook his head and tried to calm himself as he ripped a few pieces of paper out of one of the notebooks he stole. Then he dug into his bag and, breaking the markers from their packaging, fished out a green one. Ripping the cap off of it, he quietly primed the tip before starting his first note. He wanted to make two notes in total, each containing a different severity of information. If All for One caught on to Izuku’s scheme, he really wanted to make sure the heroes had something, anything that would mean he was useful for once in his life. He also wanted to protect his mother from All for One’s wrath.

On the first note, he described how he was doing (he only focused on the good because he didn’t want his mother to worry more) and what exactly to do with the note upon its discovery. He didn’t want his mother killed, so he delivered a strong warning early on. The letter took a few pages, so he knotted the top holes together with the yarn he stole.

The second note turning out twice as thick as the previous mainly because Izuku wrote out everything he had scene and everything he had suspected. He glossed over the original kidnapping because he supposed that the other kids gave similar accounts. He also completely skipped over his conversation with All Might because the memory had festered into both a source of embarrassment and disgust for himself over bothering the hero with such an obvious question. Izuku didn’t want to potentially hurt his idol’s reputation either, so he just decided that it was not pertinent to the story.

When he didn’t know exact details, such as what Nomu and Chimeras actually were or the historical significance of the man known as All for One, he did his best to leave open ended questions and speculations. Glancing up at his closed laptop, Izuku suddenly had the urge to take the oportunity to do some research.

First, however, he bound the second letter and folded both letters into triangles. Then he took his green marker and wrote a number one on the first and a number on the second. It was time to plant his information. Slipping out of his room, he floated into the kitchen with near silent footsteps. He placed the first note on the counter. When it had been successfully staged, he slipped back into his room and closed the door. Then he began looking for a place that was well hidden, but not impossible to find should the heroes come looking. About a dozen All Might eyes watched him curiously from their places on posters, figurines, and other memorabilia.

Eventually he decided to hide it in the All Might piggy bank he had received as a gift for his 5th birthday, which was sort of fitting considering it was All Might harboring the information. There wasn’t too much cash in it anyways, so the note slipped right in. Finally, he placed the rabbit keychain around the hero’s neck with a grimace. After what had happened with Izuku making a fool of himself, he didn’t think he deserved to idolize such a man.

Izuku sat down at his desk. It had been a while – Izuku checked the date and realized he had been missing for a few weeks now – since he used his laptop, so it was almost dead. He quickly plugged it in and logged into his account. Since the authorities would probably confiscate his laptop and note books, Izuku decided to make it easier for them to get the most amount of information as possible. Grabbing one of the stolen notebooks, he wrote his password at the top and opened a tap on his computer to begin researching. He needed to be gone an hour before dawn, which would give him – Izuku checked the time – exactly two hours.

And that’s exactly how much time he spent researching his captors. He could only find vague information on the doctor. At first he had searched the name he had given, which to no surprise produced zero results. He did, however, find a database that listed all registered doctors in Japan, so that deserved at least a glance.

His breath hitched when the image of the doctor, listed under the name Dr. Kyudai Garaki, locked eyes with him. His smile was light and his mustache turned upwards with the motion. His eyes could’ve been voids for how dark they appeared behind his sunken, circular glasses.

Izuku quickly clicked on his profile and bookmarked it. If he was a doctor, then it would be easy to see if someone was quirkless or if they had a powerful quirk. Izuku gulped; Dr. Tsubasa was working out of a medical buffet. After making several notes on the nature of his subject, he moved onto the Symbol of Evil.

If information regarding the doctor was limited, then anything about the man known as All for One were less than ghost stories. Only a few sources mentioned his name, but on closer inspection, they were just people talking about quirk theory. In other words, All for One represented the catalyst for quirk reformation. In the stories he read, the man would take quirks from the most powerful and gift them to the quirkless.

Izuku tried not to be swayed by that information because, a month ago, he might have sympathized with the idea. However, now that he had met the man, he got the notion that the overlord did not gift quirks away so valiantly like the fabled Robin Hood. Being quirkless, Izuku knew the feeling of craving power all too well. With every punch he received, every bruise, every laugh, a darker side of him longed for the power to not be powerless. As if his problems would be solved if he just had a little power.

Simply being in his presence had told Izuku that All for One was already powerful, yet the world had not been overthrown. With the steps All for One was willing to take, it was obvious that he was not planning an staying in the shadows forever. That suggested a barrier preventing such a bleak future, but what that barrier was Izuku did not know. Perhaps it was a hero stopping him, then? Some other limitation? If Izuku could figure it out, then maybe he could prevent the dam’s collapse.

As Izuku closed his laptop and set his notebook full of notes on top, he couldn’t help feeling as if he only held a puzzle piece of information. He still had so many questions, like how All for One got his scars, or why they were making Nomu (whatever those were) (whatever he was) in the first place. Besides Chimeras like him, Izuku had yet to see an actual Nomu. Although, with how fast things were progressing with the deranged doctor, Izuku doubted it would be long at all before he got close.

The teen slipped out his window just as the sky was beginning to lighten with the coming sun. Izuku almost felt bad as he made his way back into the darkness, leaving his mother and the world he knew behind. Regardless, he had done the right thing and for now, that was enough for him. As he reached the extraction point, Izuku’s eyes were caught by what he saw in the window of a closed shop.

A figure with snowy hair, pale skin, and freckles that all but disappeared left smudges of discolor over his features. It was Izuku – no, Two – that stared back at him. He looked like a ghost and, for the not the first and last time, he wondered what it would be like to be dead. If not for everything he still had to do, the idea would be more tempting.
When the portal opened, he stepped through. Hopefully the heroes would get to his mother before All for One figured out she was still alive and in possession of damning information.

Chapter 13: Timeless

Chapter Text

Shouta rubbed his brow with one hand as he read over the copies of Midoriya’s notes he’d left. The pro had been helping Tsukauchi decipher the boy’s research papers they had collected at the house. Since the originals were currently in a safe storage location, the copies could be used to mark up and annotate. Still, the words were wrapped in layers of thought that often clouded the bigger picture, so it took time to get used to the kid’s habit of spiraling. Once you got past that, through, anyone who read them could see the kid was brilliant. Occasionally, Midoriya left small notes of his own in the margins to clarify his thoughts which helped Shouta draw his own conclusions.

Suddenly, the detective dropped his own notes and sat back with a groan. Shouta looked up at him quizzically, but offered no comment.

“How the hell did this kid even know what he was looking for?”

Shouta’s eyes flicked over to the other, unrelated copies of notebooks filled with hero analysis they had confiscated. “I think he’s had practice.”

The detective gave him a tired look. “I mean how has he kept it together enough to feed us information?”

“At least he’s alive,” Shouta shrugged and lifted a pile of papers, peeking under to find Mrs. Midoriya’s protection agreements. “She settling in okay?”

“What,” Tsukauchi asked, sitting up to peer over at what Shouta was looking at. “Oh, yeah. She’s safe.”

Shouta’s eyes narrowed in mistrust of that statement, but he let it go. After reading about the possible existence of a power such as All for One, he believed his doubts were justified. They sat there in silence for a few minutes. Shouta went back to reading, but he couldn’t focus because he could see Tsukauchi still staring at him.

“WHAT.” He said flatly.

Instead of answering him, the detective stood up and fished his phone out of his pocket.

“Just, stay here,” he said tiredly.

“Why?” Shouta responded, arching an eyebrow.

Tsukauchi shook his head and stepped out of the room, so of course Shouta was going to follow. It took him a few moments to find where the detective had slipped off to, so he missed the pleasantries. When the detective’s side of the conversation reached his ears, it was already almost over.

“… he’s back and we need to figure out what to do,” the detective said from inside the breakroom. The door was closed, but the thin walls did nothing to muffle the call. Shouta leaned up against the wall near the door, listening and drinking his coffee as not to draw unwanted attention.

“With your injury, you’re not going to be able to stop him. Have you found a successor yet?”

Shouta’s interests were officially peaked. Could they be talking about the many-quirked villain Izuku described? Shouta carded through his knowledge on injured heroes, but none of them seemed even close to powerful enough to defeat this All for One character even in their glory days.

“Toshinori, we’ve talked about this. You need to pass it on before you grow unable to mentor! Just look at the re-emergence of All for One. Without One for All, I don’t know how we’ll beat him again.”

Shouta paused mid sip. His brain lagged on the suggestion that this Toshinori had defeated All for One before. And what was One for All? How did the two names fit together? Most importantly, wouldn’t Shouta remember a fight between such powerful quirks?

The conversation ended soon after and was followed by a heavy sigh from just past the closed door. Shouta pushed off the wall, strode down the hallway, and turned back into Tsukauchi’s office. He was already back to their research when the detective returned, but later he would be doing some of his own.

* * *

Izuku dropped the marker he was using to draw on the walls of his cell and cringed when the noise echoed throughout the deathly-quiet lab. His hand had cramped, so he shook it out and reached for the marker anyways in the dim light to cap it. He was restless like a caged cat and, if he wasn’t pacing, then he was drawing or writing in the dim darkness. While time didn’t exist here, he was sure it had been days since he last slept.

Glancing out into the still lab, his eyes roamed over the smooth, glassy walls of the tanks the kids had been held in. All but one had been moved out now, so the sound of machinery had lessened with it. His visits from the nurse had also become less frequent, so he assumed that the other kids were doing well. He’d probably see them soon anyways…

It felt like hours before someone came for him, but the familiar face was not appreciated. Kurogiri drifted up to his glass, studying him like a zoo animal. The bitter irony of the situation filled Izuku’s mouth and he rolled over on his bed away from the man.

There was a sigh. “Come,” he said simply, warping through the glass-like barrier with ease. “You’re going to begin training today.”

Izuku ignored his request to move. “And what will I be training for?”

He was met with silence as expected. A moment later, purple mist encapsulated him and he was transported.

From then onward, training was held every ‘day’ and, against his better self, began to be something that separated him from his messy web of thoughts. It was predictable and he desperately needed that tether. It went like this: Courtesy call, portal, training , return, eat, sleep, repeat. The training room, lit by artificial lighting that buzzed and snowed dust, was just another isolated pocket of timeless reality.

Izuku began to lose track of individual lessons and everything began to blend together into one endless nightmare. Izuku could only hope that the police and heroes had somehow followed his requests to keep his mother safe.

Mostly he practiced close combat and hand-to-hand techniques. Other times he worked on long range attacks using throwing knives. So far, all of his targets had been stationary; training dummies or targets had been set up. He still had his strength training with the nurse, but it filled in the gaps between sessions. If anything, they offered him a distraction from the crushing silence and isolation residing in his cell.

He was still feeling like he was going crazy, though. He had begun to hear voices whispering through the walls at night. The first time he had heard the disembodied murmurs, he had jumped up and rushed to press his ear against the wall only to find more silence. When he called out, the quiet only came back louder. He could hear his breathing and even his own heart beat sometimes.

When Izuku had let out a humorless laugh, the walls laughed with him until the sound of unhinged laughter was deafening. With one hand, he had gripped his hair tight and with the other grabbed sheets the bite onto. He was shaking, but it wasn’t from the cold cement that imprisoned him.

* * *

All for One spoke to him out of the speaker system when he trained, directing him in his tasks. He was guiding him again today, but this time, his targets were alive.

“Today, we’re moving on,” his voice crackled through the speakers.

Izuku tipped his head up, curiously looking into the small camera tacked to the wall, a bit of ducktape idly peeling away to expose frayed wires. Instead of answering, he directed his attention towards the patch of mist accumulating at the other end of the room. When it had dissipated, a tiny creature, clustered with limbs and thin hair, snarled at him. It was no bigger than a watermelon and most of its size came from the brain that protruded from its skull, entirely unprotected.

At first Izuku was confused by its presence, but he soon understood its purpose there when it locked eyes with him. Ice seeped into his veins and even the timeless space seemed to slow down. Izuku was met by a look of pure blood lust.

Not a second later, it shot forwards with its teeth bared and lunged for his legs. Izuku yelped and tried to dodge, but it was too quick and latched onto his leg. Even with his body enhancements, Izuku still felt the pain of rows of dagger-like teeth tearing into his soft, unprotected flesh. He screamed as the wet sound of bloodied flesh mixed and echoed in the small training room.

In the moment between bites, he scrambled onto his elbows and dragged his and the creature’s bodies backwards towards the weapon stash. Just as his fingers stretched towards a small scythe, the monster tugged his entire body away from the stash. The area was already beginning to go numb, but the sudden movement had him almost passing out. He grit his teeth when he felt the creature’s teeth grind against his shin bone and put all his energy into lunging for the weapon stash again.

This time his fingers closed around the cool metal shaft and he instantly tore the scythe right off the rack, causing a plethora of other weapons to come clattering to the floor around him. Then, in one rather uncoordinated swing, he bisected the creature’s head from ear to ear.

The creature choked once, then went limp and Izuku followed suit. Around him the room was once again plunged into silence. Izuku immediately fell back against the floor, breathing hard as he tried not to black out. Distantly, he could feel the corpse twitching, jaws still latched onto his leg. Groaning, Izuku used his other leg to kick the creature off.

“They’re called Nomu,” All for One said, speaker suddenly crackling to life. “They’re like you, but a different… Let’s say… variety.”

Izuku gulped, closing his eyes against the growing, throbbing pain.

“That one’s a reject.”

Izuku swallowed rather dryly. If this was a reject, he didn’t want to even imagine what the ideal design was like.

“Do you know what made that one such a reject?”

Izuku shook his head and felt a bead of sweat roll off his forehead and onto the floor. Then he made the mistake of cracking his eyes open to peer at the corpse. Dark, oily fluid had oozed out of the head and pooled on the floor in a tacky mess. The ringing in Izuku’s ears grew the longer he looked at it. When the creature twitched again, a small noise fell from it in hollow syllables.

“Hurts,” it said choked quietly, sounding more like a wind blowing through a forest.

Izuku felt his blood run cold and he pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes locked on the mangled eyes. Had it really just spoke? Was Izuku hallucinating?

“Ah, you see,” All for One chuckled cruelly. “This one is still coherent.”

Izuku tried to swallow, but there was nothing to swallow and so he choked. His heart was beating so fast as he tried to form the words on his lips. “W-what do you mean?”

“I thought it was obvious, Two. Nomu are made from people. The only different between you and it is the fact that you are just you, and it is two kids and a woman.”

Nausea rolled though him as he stared as the Nomu. He no longer saw just a corpse, but three bodies. Even in its split-open eyes dripped muddled human blood.

“Cold feet, Two?”

Izuku’s lips quivered as he forced himself not to look like he was panicking. “Course not, Sir.”

“Very good,” All for One said through a grin. “Do you know what makes Nomu so desirable?”

Izuku didn’t respond; his eyes were still locked on the mangled remains.

“They have been made to follow orders. So,” All for One’s voice dropped dangerously low. “They will make the perfect training tools.”

Nausea swelled up and he could taste bile in his mouth. Gagging, he rolled to his side and thew up a handful of stomach acid.

All for One continued as if he couldn’t care less. “Good work, Two. You have culled another useless abomination.”

Abomination. Was that what it was? Was that what Izuku would look like, too? Was he an abomination now?

Izuku glanced down at where the creature was melting away like heated wax. Then he saw his shredded leg already beginning to heal.

“Again,” All for One commanded as another creature appeared before him. Izuku looked up from where he lay, gritting his teeth. This one was a little bigger and it let out a screech.

“Kill.”

And Izuku did. One, two, three dropped at his feet. After the fifth, Izuku collapsed. When he woke again, he was in his bed.

* * *

He sat up in his bed; someone had changed his clothes. Since he hated looking at the amalgamation of surgical scares, he preferred it to having to change himself despite how violating it was. He hated his body. Hated what it could do and how it responded to All for One’s commands. He hated this place. Mostly, though, he hated himself for not being strong enough to resist All for One.

Was he a murderer now?

He definitely wasn’t a hero. Was he a villain? A victim? Izuku laid back down, staring up at the clusters of colorful stars he drew, dulled to shades of gray in the dark that scattered his ceiling. After everything, was he even still Izuku?

He turned over and buried his head under his thin pillow, trying to drown out the whispers and cries that gathered to haunt him every night. Tonight there were more.

Chapter 14: Mystery Man

Chapter Text

Shouta glanced out his classroom window. The majority of the student body had already gone home, but there were a few stragglers that always hung around. He’d have to round up in an hour or so, but for now they could terrorize the campus. The only person who wouldn’t be leaving was Inko Midoriya.

It was decided that she would be housed in one of Nezu’s bunkers located beneath the school. Since it was in the best interests of both mother and son, the request Izuku Midoriya had made in his letter was granted and she had been moved in the succeeding day. While Shouta wished that Nezu had done it out of the kindness of his heart, he knew better. The plotting rat never skipped on an opportunity for power and holding a target hostage was the perfect way. In that way, both the police and villains had to go through him.

On the more surface level of reason, UA worked as the safe haven because it was a designated fallout site, guarded by some of the top heroes in Japan, and Shouta – more importantly his ability to erase quirks – resided there. Since he was on the case, he could also keep an eye on her. While it wasn’t in the job description, he liked to visit her as well because he could only imagine just how lonely being in an unfamiliar, isolated place and not knowing if your son was alright would be.

That’s why, as soon as the last of the kids had filtered out, he slipped down into the lower levels of UA. In the bunker, there was a hallway with doors on each side to accommodate housing for refugees. One of the rooms had been remodeled to resemble an apartment. A bathroom had also been installed to make it more homey and eliminate the need to leave the room. It wasn’t like she could even if she wanted to; the door was locked for her own safety.

Shouta knocked once on the door when he arrived. There was nothing identifying about the door other that the painted number to the left of the frame.

“Twinkle, twinkle little star...” Shouta deadpanned, voice echoing softly through the tunnel-like halls.

“How I wonder where you are,” the voice from inside finished.

The reason for the code phrase was because of the two part locking system. In short, the lock worked only if both people were willing to participate because there were mechanics on both the inside and outside portions. Sighing, Shouta unlocked the outside just as he heard the inside locks fall into place. The thick door was pushed open a half second later and he was greeted by a bright smile. Since he had a special access code, he could still shut the door without being trapped inside.

Shouta followed her to the green wrap-around couch. She sat down first, brushing away a news magazine she had been reading.

“I hate that you chose that nursery rhyme,” Shouta groaned, loosening his capture weapon from around his neck.

“It makes it easier to tell if it’s me, though,” Mrs. Midoriya laughed, albeit a bit forced. Shouta pressed his lips together, anticipating the question she asked everyday.

“Any news on Izuku?”

Shouta sighed, which must’ve been enough of a response because she dropped her eyes and patted the seat cushion next to her, inviting him to sit.

“You know, before I had Izuku, it was just my husband and I.”

Shouta watched her carefully as he listened, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

“But he left when he found out that our son was quirkless. Then those people took my son away because he was quirkless. Now I have neither.” He tone pulled at Shouta in a way that made him shift with an uncomfortable sadness. Taking in a breath, he turned to face her on the couch.

“Do you have anyone you love?” She inquired kindly, eyes like sunken lily pads.

Not sure how to respond, Shouta nodded. “I also have a husband.”

She smiled. “Any children?”

“No, just our cats. But we barely see each other because our schedules don’t line up very well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she leaned over to place a small, dimpled hand on Shouta’s knee. “But maybe you could rework your schedule? I’m sure your husband and cats would love it.”

A second later, she retracted her hand and looked off, her gaze landing somewhere beyond the confines of her cell. “We never know how much time we’ll get with them. But even then, it is never enough.”

They were quiet for a short while after that, but eventually Shouta changed the topic to something a little less depressing and they talked a short while. The hero had to leave around an hour later, though.

“Thank you for having me,” he said.

She smiled again and waved both her hands. “Oh no, I should be thanking you for visiting me.” Then she seemed to remember something and jumped up.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, grabbing a piece of paper from under her book. “Could you please give this to Toshinori Yagi? I would do it myself, but I can’t leave and I don’t think he is coming back any time soon.”

Shouta took the slip, eyeing it curiously. There was that name again. Toshinori. He decided to inquire. “Who’s that?”

She looked at him with genuine surprise. “Oh, you don’t know? Sorry! That was rude.”

Then she took a breath and tucked her hair. “Um, he said he works here? I can just wait to give it to him… ”

But Shouta wasn’t listening anymore. He was more focused on this mysterious man he had heard so much about; the man everybody knew except for him it seemed.

“No, that’s alright. I’ll find him,” Shouta reassured her. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

“Alright, thank you!” She gave one more small wave. “Bye!”

With that, Shouta slipped out, the door closing behind him and automatically locking.

* * *

The clock read closer to one in the morning. Hizashi had gone to bed long ago because he’d given up on trying to make Shouta go to sleep once he had realized that it was futile. Shouta couldn’t sleep until he was mentally satisfied, so there he sat, in front of their computer, unsatisfied.

While he knew the staff of UA well, he still checked their legal civilian names, but no one by that title had come up. He could be a new hire, Shouta supposed, and just hadn’t been listed yet.

But how did the detective know him? How did Inko Midoriya? Why hadn’t Shouta ever seen him or met him? For all his years of service, he had to have known who he was. If only he had a picture…

* * *

While on break the following day, Shouta checked UA’s security feeds and finally got a visual of the Toshinori person. He was pretty easy to pick out because Shouta knew everyone else that had visited Mrs. Midoriya; he was the only stranger in the past week. In the footage, Shouta could make out that was a tall, lean figure with golden hair and blue eyes. He wore a suit, too, however it was somewhat casual due to the loose tie and untucked shirt. With the way it fell loose around his frame, the man looked almost sickly. His gait was also uneven.

In his hand was a grocery bag. He really gave off “no one lives here and I’m definitely not delivering groceries” vibe. Shouta scowled. Very secretive, he thought.

In any case, Shouta vaguely recognized him, but couldn't place exactly where he had seen the man. His western features stood out too much for Shouta to have forgotten his face. Grunting in frustration, Shouta took a picture of the stilled image and left.

When he got home that day, he showed the picture to his husband.

“Hey Sho,” Hizahi beamed from behind the steaming rice cooker they’d gotten from his parents the year prior.

Shouta gave him a rare, yet genuine smile and sat at a bar chair facing into their kitchen. He loved nights like these where they were both up. Perhaps Mrs. Midoriya was onto something.

He felt sorry that he was about to ruin the moment, but he had to know who the mysterious man was.

“Hey,” he grumbled, laying his head on one arm and sliding his phone over towards his husband, picture of the man pulled up. “Do you recognize him?”

“You know not all blonds know each other, right?” Hizashi joked before falling silent, seemingly lost in thought. After a minute, he spoke, but it was in a much more serious manner than that of before. Shouta appreciated that he was taking it seriously, but it was almost unsettling to see such a divergence from his normal mannerisms.

“Yeah, I have no idea,” he pouted. “Maybe it’s All Might’s grandpa?”

Shouta propped his head up. His thoughts lingered on the relation to All Might, even though Hizashi had suggested it to lighten the mood.

“He does actually look like All Might,” Shouta commented, carding a hand through his wild black hair. “A weird, deflated one.”

Hizashi snorted, serving Shouta a bowl of rice with steamed vegetables on top. Then he got a jelly packet from the fridge and slid that over as well. “Why has this guy caught your attention all of a sudden?”

Shouta watched the steam curl in the air before answering. “Just, I’ve heard his name a lot recently. Oh, I forgot to mention that his name is Toshinori Yagi or something.”

To his surprise, Hizashi’s eyes instantly lit up. “Oh, now I know who he is!”

Shouta quirked an eyebrow and shoveled rice into his mouth. It was hot, but he didn’t care.

“Nezu mentioned his name during a faculty meeting discussing next year’s preparations. You must’ve missed it, though.”

Shouta nodded; he was been busy with the quirkless kidnapping cases recently. “I guess so. Who is he anyway? What are his qualifications?”

“He’s going to be a teacher next year,” Hizashi hummed. “Although, I don’t know much else. Nezu never disclosed his quirk or past occupations.”

Shouta nodded again, popping a softened vegetable into his mouth. Yagi knew Mrs. Midoriya, which meant that he was involved in the child abduction case because there wasn’t any way Nezu would let just anyone in to see her. In addition, he was going to be working at UA and he had no track record that either pro hero had heard of. Shouta smiled; he liked a good mystery.

“Oh,” Shouta suddenly remembered, looking up. “Why wasn’t he at the meeting to introduce himself?”

Hizashi scratched his head. “Um, I think he got busy with something? I think the meeting was on the 5th in case you wanted to know.”

Shouta nodded, standing up to retrieve his laptop.

“Sho! Where are you going?” Hizashi called after him, fretting over his half-eaten meal.

“Just put it in the fridge. I need to see where the detective was that day,” he waved, and then he was gone, rekindling that spark that only a fresh lead could provide. So much for Mrs. Midoriya’s advice about spending time with his family, he thought idly as he closed the door behind him.

Chapter 15: Rise a Day so Bleak

Chapter Text

Izuku brought up the last of the liquid in his stomach onto the training room floor. He was breathing hard and, between the fighting and smell of rapidly-decomposing Nomu, felt like he was going to pass out. He skin was slick with sweat and whatever Nomu blood was. It couldn’t have possibly been human blood anymore; it was too thick and tar-like, and it smelled of decaying flesh.

When Izuku tried to stand up straight, he lost his balance and stumbled backwards. His own blood seeped out lazily through smaller cuts and dried into crust on his skin. The larger lacerations were still dripping, but thankfully the blood was seemingly coagulating. The eerie part was that many of the damaged areas were healing quicker than the blood could be wiped away, so it left his body looking like that of a soldier who just fought off an army. Even so, Izuku noticed that the healing was slower now than what he originally observed.

“I see we have finally pushed your body to the limit of its healing ability,” All for One commented. “Without a sufficient supply of nutrients, your healing ability will deplete. I’ll talk to Ms. Voyance about a revised meal plan for you.”

There was a pause as he considered the pools of vomit littering the ground. “And, Two, do try to keep it in your stomach from now on. I’ll have Dr. Tsubasa put you in a rejuvenation tank to encourage quicker healing. With how hard you’ve been working, your body is unable to rest properly. We need more muscling on you.” He said it as if Izuku were a livestock animal on its way to fair.

On top of that, he wanted to ask what a rejuvenation tank was and how it worked because he was nervous about being anesthetized in the company of monsters. Would the doctor run brain scans and realize that Izuku actually retained his memories? Could they actually tell if he remembered his life before they kidnapped him? That he tipped off the police? Could the other experiments remember like he could? The image of the rejected Nomu suddenly popped into his head and he swallowed hard. There was always the possibility that they could terminate him while he was in such a vulnerable state. And then a thought, old in existence yet strong in influence, crossed his mind.

Would it be bad if he was killed? Izuku hated the way that idea brought him peace.

No, he thought to himself. There has to be a way to escape this hell.

Still, he didn’t quite believe those words. And yet, he wasn’t even sure he was the same person that he was before coming to this place. Was he even still him? Even if he did escape, no one would recognize him. And what about the kids that had been brought here just like himself? They also had people that loved them, but would anyone they loved recognize them after everything?

“You’re free to go,” All for One said, breaking through Izuku’s downward spiral and he was teleported back into his cell a moment later.

* * *

His nurse (apparently her name was Ms. Voyance according to All for One,) was prepping him for the rejuvenation tank. Izuku tried to ignore the uncomfortable needle pricks and the stickiness of the adhesives that held wired monitors to his skin.

“These are here to monitor your vitals and feed your body nutrients while you’re in there,” she reassured him, sensing Izuku’s nervousness.

He let out a shuddering breath and tired not to focus on the deafening sound of his pounding heart. Once she had finished, the nurse led him up a ladder that rose with the tank and dripped over the rim as if the head was too heavy.

“We’re both going to climb down that ladder,” she pointed to the loose wires at the bottom of the tank, “then I’m going to hook you up to the equipment and fill this thing.”

Izuku nodded and followed her down. His limbs were jelly under his weight and every rung felt like a huge mistake. When they reached the bottom of the tank, she wasted no time in attaching and connecting everything to the ports on his body. Finally, she attached the breathing apparatus to his face.

“Alright, Two. Could you please take a breath and exhale?” She said, watching his vitals on her small tablet. Izuku tried to breath normally, but his chest was shuddering and his eyes burned with unshed tears. I didn’t seem to matter too much though, because a minute later she simply nodded to herself.

“Good,” she hummed. “Okay, everything looks alright. I’m going to fill the tank now.”

Izuku was growing increasingly dizzy and barely noticed as she climbed out of the tank until she called from outside it. His eyes darted to her figure, warped by the glass as if she were a phantom.

“All ready?” she shouted, voice distorted into an echoed cry.

“Yeah,” Izuku whispered, watching a slightly-slimy, water-like liquid pool at his feet. It wasn’t long before it had swallowed him up to his knees. Then it was at his shoulders, and finally it was choking his neck. That’s when he tried to tread the liquid in a feudal attempt to stay above it. However the substance was denser than water, so he merely sunk below its surface when his limbs could not move quick enough to keep his body afloat.

The first plunge into the jelly-like depths was pure fear. Once he breathed using the air mask, though, that initial fear was replaced by complete amazeent. He felt weightless and, with almost no sensory stimuli, the most peace he had had in a long time. It felt nice to be lulled away from his problems and into sleep.

* * *

All for One had thought that their first success in the experiment had been a fluke. However their recent breakthrough proved that they had gotten the method right, just their candidate was wrong. Number One was pre-programmed material, so of course there were errors when they tried to enter new code on top of the old script. All for One should’ve seen that layering quirks would put too much strain on the body – only he powerful enough to do that – so starting with a container that hadn’t been filled yet was the key. Quirked people would overfill should more quirks be added, but the quirkless could be filled since they were void of any ability to begin with.

Who knew that the quirkless could be so useful! With that little set back taken care of, it would be much easier to engineer the perfect killers for his master plan. Or at least, he hoped so. That’s why he came to lab in person today.

Quirk collection and transfer. It was regarded as a mythical ability to all except All for One. It was his ability to steal, wield, and gift quirks. It was how he was going to create his army of pawns and take back the counterpart to his quirk, One for All.

There was just the slight problem with his creations. The normal Nomu they had been creating required too many resources and were barely on par with All Might in strength. They weren’t independent either, which meant that a handler had to be there to give commands during a fight.

Then there were the Chimera Nomu. They were much more independent, but lacked the strength and ability of regular Nomu. They were made to be a challenge for regular heroes, but would be mere flies in the face of a fight against All Might.

Today, All for One would be testing the depths of that empty, quirkless cup. He watched Two curiously through his eyeless face and grinned. Hopefully the boy’s body could take the weight of a quirk. If not, then he had others to experiment on now that they had cracked the secret.

Nurse Voyance greeted him when he arrived and was now reading out Two’s vitals with a smile. All for One was only half listening, finding the placid face of his weapon more interesting than any numbers. When she had finished, she moved back towards the master monitor display system and nodded towards All for One.

The plan was to transfer a weak quirk in order to test his bodily resilience. If he could handle that, then they would push his body further after the trial period. All for One moved towards the tank, enticed by the potential for yet another scientific breakthrough. A grin stretched across his marred face as he reached out.

“Whenever you’re ready, Sir,” Voyance notified him, tablet in hand and eyes glued to the large screen displayed above the monitoring system.

With that, he activated one of his many quirks within him. While the name of it had long been lost, its functionality hadn’t diminished since the day it became his. The quirk allowed his body to pass through the abiotic elements in his environment and interact solely with the biotic ones, so it was very useful in organic experimentation.

So, without further delay, he utilized its traits and passed one hand through the tank and the fluid inside with ease. When he reached Two, the boy jolted in his sleep at the contact. All for One grinned once more, gripping one of Two’s arms tightly as he pushed one of his low grade quirks into the boy.

The quirk he had decided to transfer had been a weak quirk immunity; it probably would only diminish the effectiveness of attacks, but it should be an easy one to handle as it was always turned on within the user and therefore required no skill to learn.

As he began to push the quirk inside, Two’s body ceased and he convulsed. Since Voyance hadn't told him to stop, he continued. Once a little more than half the ability had flowed into Two, the rest was pulled along inside. All for One felt lighter at the loss of ability as he retracted his marred hand, inspecting his work as he did so. Two convulsed a few times, but the boy went still once more in his induced sleep a minute later.

“His vitals look normal,” the nurse reported. “However I am reading an increase in brain activity, but that’s probably just a side effect of the transaction. I’ll note it and notify you of any changes.”

“Good,” All for One said, pleased with the results. Something like this was once no easier than tossing a coin into a wall and hoping for it to slip through a crack. Now, it seemed, quirk transfer could be like tossing a coin into the ocean and hoping to catch water.

“I’ll continue to monitor him for the next 24 hours. After that, we can wake him up and test his capability.” She smiled and busied herself in documentation.

* * *

“I AM HERE!” Came All Might’s voice from the speakers. All for One watched the recording of the man fondly, reminiscing in the memories of their fight long ago. It had been one of the best battles of his entire life and it fueled his deep respect for the hero. Hence, it would make All Might’s death so much sweeter when All for One killed him. All Might was in a race against time while All for One had all the time in the world due to his multitude of anti-aging quirks. He would win, he just had to harness a little patience and take One for All when the time was right.

“Sensei!” Shigaraki complained. His greatest pawn was growing increasingly impatient waiting for his savior’s command. “Please just tell me what I should do about those nosy cops!”

The boy was talking about the mounting investigations concerning the quirkless abductees.

“Simply observe,” he ordered, watching the figure of All Might climb a pile of rubble and give a heroic speech. Shigaraki obviously wasn’t content with that answer and stepped between All for One and the TV.

“But Sensei, what if-”

All for One raised a hand. “My boy, in a field of hiding birds, which bird is shot by the hunter?”

“Seriously? A riddle. Now?”

“Which one?” He said more firmly this time.

Shigaraki sighed. “I don’t know, the one below his boot?”

“No, the one below his foot is safe so long as it remains silent and motionless,” All for One corrected. “It is the bird who flees that gets shot. Do you see?”

Shigaraki nodded and averted his eyes. “So you’re saying that if I freak and make noise, it’ll draw in the sharks.”

All for One nodded.

Shigaraki grinned, then, cracked lips drawing blood up into their deep wells. “And why wouldn’t I want that? I’ve been feeling restless lately. Killing a couple cops might help.”

“The more blood in the water, the more predators we attract. You’ll have ample time to kill, however now is not that time. Do not tip off the police or heroes before we’re ready for a full scale attack.” If he had eyes, he’d be glaring the boy down. Still, the younger visibly shuddered.

“Do you understand me?” He hummed dangerously.

Shigaraki merely nodded and wrinkled his nose. “Fine, I’ll keep my head down.”

“Good,” All for One grinned. “Now go.”

With that, his apprentice pawn departed, leaving the past All Might and perhaps a piece of a younger All for One to revel in their glory days.

“I AM HERE!” The man announced once more to a crowd of adoring fans.

“And I am here,” All for One murmured through his breathing mask. “Alive within the coffin you buried me. But soon will rise a day so bleak, we all will be set free from under the dirt that confines us here; in under the filth beneath your heroic boots. You forgot to clean it off, heroes.”

Chapter 16: Cat and Mouse

Chapter Text

Auntie Inko had been moved by the authorities to a safe location, that much Katsuki new. However, said authorities neglected to inform him where she was and for how long she’d be there for. Why wouldn’t they include him in the loop? He knew it was security protocol, but Katsuki could protect himself from any villains that decided to come after him!

The blond wrinkled his nose in thought. Hero applications were also coming up, but Katsuki only applied to one. He was the best after all, so there was no need to apply to any institution other than the best one in the country. Deku was had also planning on attending it…

Katsuki shook his head. Like hell he was going to think about the nerd on his day off. Plus, the twig wouldn’t even had made it past the preliminary exam, let alone the quirk aptitude test. The blond opened his phone with a huff, but the news articles concerning the case were still pulled up from earlier. He couldn’t help the quick flick of his eyes at they picked apart the information for anything new, but there was nothing. Katsuki was suddenly more angry than he had been before. What were those heroes even doing? Why was Deku so unbelievably weak? Why had both him and Inko disappeared? If Katsuki had been on the case, he could’ve solved this by now. Honestly it was the heroes loss for not including him on the case.

That’s when an idea crossed his mind.

A little investigation on his own wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? Plus, it would give him experience before even starting his education at UA which meant advantage over his peer (Not like he needed it, but it would still be nice to rub it in the extras faces.) Obviously he wouldn’t do anything to mess up the police investigation, so a little note taking – he refused to compare it to Deku’s note taking – wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he could turn his findings into the incompetent detectives when he found something of value.

Katsuki g rabb ed the 5 ,000 yen bill one of his uncles gave him for his last birthday and a small notebook and pencil that he got at some promotional booth. After shoving them into the pockets of his sweatpants, he stormed down the stairs and headed for the front door . Just as he was about to make his escape, his mother opened the door, paper bag with groceries in hand (curse her impeccable timing!) Her eyes narrowed as she accurately predicted his intentions.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, brat?” She spat, crossing her arms and standing in front of the door.

“Out,” he snarled, pushing past her.

To his surprise, she put up little fight and instead sighed. “Just, please be careful. I don’t want you to get caught up with those child abduction cases.”

Katsuki froze. Did she know what he was about to do? There was no way she could’ve know, right?

“I’m not some weakling!” Katsuki let a feral grin cross his face as explosions were set off beneath his fingertips. Then he pushed fully out the door and into the light of late afternoon.

“I know,” Katsuki heard her sigh as he marched away towards the train station. He didn’t turn back.

* * *

It was early evening when Katsuki reached the nearest Red Light district, so there weren’t too many people out partying yet. That was probably better for him because kids technically weren’t allowed in places with bars and strip clubs unless they were working them (Katsuki wrinkled his nose at implication of minors being taken advantage of by perverts.) (He really hated this place.)

In any case, he chose a bar with music playing inside. It dropped down a set of stairs which he followed and ma d e an immediate left inside. When he entered the establishment, there seemed to only be a few older men and one rough looking kid around his age at the back. Katsuki scoffed and took a seat at the bar.

The bar tender, a tired older woman with a morph quirk that gave her pale blue skin and black eyes, looked him up and down. “Sorry, Kiddo. Only customers 20 and older can sit here.”

“Don’t have to be fuc kin 20 to order a water, do I?” Katsuki retorted.

“You got an ID?”

“...No.”

“Then f*ckin’ sit somewhere else,” she rolled her eyes, passing Katsuki a glass of water.

“On the house,” she deadpanned.

“No ice?”

“You got a million bucks, kid?” She sighed, arching a brow. “Don’t push your luck.”

“No,” Katsuki quipped. He was losing patience fast. “You seen this kid?” He placed his phone in front of him and slid it forwards. Izuku’s yearbook photo from last year was displayed on the screen. Despite looking a little scrawnier and younger in the shot, Izuku hadn’t changed too much since the photo had been taken. It had been mailed to the Bakugo household because of some existing tradition shared between their mothers which is why Katsuki had it.

She just crossed her arms, barely giving the image a second glance. “I have enough brats coming in here as it is.”

Katsuki was just about at his wits end with the woman and he chugged the glass of water in three seconds flat as if it could cool the fire growing within him. When he had finished, he slammed the glass down on the counter and scooted off his bar seat. The bartender definitely looked annoyed with him, but said nothing as he made his way into the restaurant area with the leftover day drinkers.

“Hey,” he heard a hushed shout from a booth in the back and, when he turned to see who it was, found the teen he had seen when he first walked in. It was probably best to start there since the thing with the bartender didn’t work out so well .

A few seconds later, Katsuki was sitting across from a gaunt, purple-haired boy wearing a gray hoodie two sizes too big and skinny jeans. Katsuki quirked an eyebrow.

“My name is Paradox -”

“What kind of f*ckin name is that?” Katsuki interrupted, laugh ing rather loudly considering how quiet the bar was.

The other teen’s face remained expressionless until Katsuki quieted down. “It is a name that shields my real one in these dangerous parts.”

“Oh shut up! If someone wanted to find you, they could just track your face down.” So the troll-haired boy was a drama queen. Katsuki rolled his eyes and wished he was old enough to drink.

That at least seemed to elicit a reaction from the other. “Like how you’re tracking your friend’s face down?”

Any humor fell from Katsuki’s face and he crossed his arms defensively . “What do you know of it?” Who was this kid to patronize Katsuki? “ And he’s not my friend, Troll Hair .”

“T-Troll Hair?!” Troll Hair stuttered, looking at Katsuki in disbelief and annoyance. “It’s Paradox !”

“Ha! Troll Hair.”

“ Paradox !”

“ Okay, Paradox , then call me Lord Explosion Murder!” Katsuki’s quirk released in his palms like pop rocks.

Troll Hair looked at him in disbelief. “No! I’m not calling you that.”

Katsuki laughed. “Then I’m calling you Troll Hair!”

“Ugh,” Troll Hair groaned and face palmed. “ You know what? We’re moving on.” Then he removed his palm and his expression fell serious again . “Show me the picture of the missing boy.”

Katsuki blinked, pulling up the picture on his phone again and showing it to the other boy with a narrow glare. “Know him?”

Troll Hair looked at the picture for a a half second before nodding. “Yeah, but lets talk later.”

“What?” Katsuki growled, slamming his fist on the table. He certainly was not expecting this stranger to recognize a weakling like Deku. How had they even met anyways?

“Look,” the other suddenly whispered, eyes shifting uneasily. “I got an info broker on his way to talk. I’ll find you later.”

“No way, sh*t for brains!” Katsuki roared. No way he was letting a lead go just like that.

“Do you think I’m lying?” Troll Hair asked, words a challenge on his tongue. Katsuki could take a challenge.

“YES-” Katsuki screamed, and then he was gone.

* * *

Hitoshi watched as the blond boy’s body went slack under his quirk. He grimaced with the use of it, but it would be best for everyone if the loose end was not there when the broker arrived.

“Go and wait at Dagobah beach,” he commanded, giving a quick wave of his hand. For how fiery the blond had been, Hitoshi could barely feel him now. He speculated that the blond probably wouldn’t even remember walking there, which was good because this meeting was orchestrated by one of his favorite heroes and he wouldn’t let him down . If there was one thing about having a villain's quirk, it was that he was rarely accused of working with the police . Should violence arise , all he’d have to do was demonstrate his mind control quirk. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

The other teen left without a hitch and, out of the corner of his eye, he watched the bartender smirk just slightly . Seriously, the blond was a loose cannon. Once he was gone, Hitoshi resumed his relaxed position and tried to smooth the anxiety from his features. If he looked nervous, he’d tip off the seasoned broker.

“ Uh, hi?” Came the voice from the man sliding into the booth seat opposite of him. Hitoshi sat up with a start and immediately cursed himself for doing the exact thing that he was trying to avoid.

“Hi!” Hitoshi nearly streaked, making the man chuckle. Hitoshi took a breath and then began to recite the script in his head.

“So, you’re the information broker?”

“Yup! Giran at your service, kid.” The man smiled, revealing his numerous missing teeth. Hitoshi internally cringed.

“So,” the younger began, doing his best to sound tough and like he knew what he was doing. Up until now, he’d just been talking to low crime villains and they all pointed to Giran. Under the guidance of the police and underground heroes, he was able to arrange this meeting.

“What do you know about the quirkless kidnapping cases that have been increasing recently?”

“ What no small talk?” When Hitoshi made no effort to answer, Giran just shrugged and sat back. “Quite a deal, actually.” Then he stretched out an open hand. “But what do you got to buy it with ?”

Hitoshi sighed. This, at least, had been most prepared for. “I have information on heroes.”

Giran raised an eyebrow and retracted his hand. “I already have information on heroes.”

“No,” Hitoshi said, shaking his head. “Not like this you don’t.”

He carefully slipped a page out of a folder in the small backpack he’d brought with him and pushed it face down towards the broker. “Look at it.”

Giran did and, as he read it, his eyes widened and a smirk worked its way onto his lips. “Who wrote this?”

Hitoshi, in fact, had just given the man a photocopy of a page from one of Izuku Midoriya’s hero analysis journals. While it would be dangerous to award such acute information to a villain, the heroes had collectively agreed to sell off his work as collateral for the safety of all those taken. At the time, it had seemed like a fair trade, but the way the man drooled over it like a starved wolf made the boy suddenly reconsider.

“Alright, I’ll tell you, but it’s gonna cost more than one.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Giran made it a point to press his lips together as he waited for Hitoshi to give into his demand. Instead, Hitoshi just sat there, waiting for his information. He was used to people thinking that he was a pushover.

“Talk, then you’ll get more.” He stated firmly. Inside his backpack, a recording device was running to capture their conversation for later use. He’d turned it on while fishing the papers out.

Sighing, Giran pinched his nose. “I saw a few of ‘em at this underground villain facility. They do human experiments or some sh*t. Dangerous people.”

He extended his arm and was in turn granted another page. He eyed it, then continued. “Not gonna tell who or where because those people would have my head before I even left this place. All I can say is that there was a boy who had already survived the program.”

“Who?” Hitoshi asked, sliding over yet another page. Giran took it and continued.

“Not sure. But those kids all got this white hair and pale skin. It’s freaky . The doctor call ed ‘em Chimera Nomu. ” He gestured towards his abdomen. “They also got these massive stitching scars like they’re some sorta Frankenstein's monster.”

“ Jesus,” Hitoshi murmured and the two went quiet for a long moment. Had Midoriya been one of the ones to get sliced open like that?

Giran was the first to break the silence. “Listen, these people, they’re f*cking dangerous. I might die from just talking to you.”

Hitoshi smirked at that. “Then why are you talking? The way I see it, you got a lot more to lose here than gain.” Hitoshi nodded towards the analysis pages. “With your connections, I’m sure other people could offer you hero information.”

“Because,” Giran sat up, seemingly revived with confidence. “Those things are way to sentient to obey every command like a regular old Nomu. They’re gonna rebel, and I don’t wanna be on another hit list, especially not theirs.”

Hitoshi was gonna ask about what Nomu were exactly, but Giran got up out of the booth before he could ask.

“Sorry, kid, but we’re gonna have to talk another time. Gotta keep moving, y’know?”

Hitoshi wiped the dazed expression off his face and nodded. “Of course. I’ll be in touch.”

Then the broker gathered the papers and tucked them into his coat pocket. He strode out with practiced ease and disappeared into the coming evening. Hitoshi sat there for about ten minutes before he remembered that he had told that teen from earlier to wait at the beach. Signing, he slid out of his seat.

* * *

H itoshi was actually surprised to see the blond waiting at Dagobah beach just like he said , silhouetted by the blazing sunset filtering through the city of trash that towered behind him like a forgotten city. Seeing that he was no longer under the effects of his quirk and hadn’t been for a while, one could understand his astonishment.

Face slack and eyes glaring with a fury that could rival the fiery ball behind him, his hands sunk deep into his pockets as the boy watched him expectantly. “So, what the f*ck did you wanna tell me? Or did you just bring me out here to murder me, Eye Bags?”

Hitoshi let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “I’m Hitoshi Shinso, nice to meet you...” He gestured with his hand to indicate that the other teen was supposed to fill in his name. When he didn’t, Hitoshi sighed and, pushing past the blond, dropped down onto the trash infested beach.

“Hey,” the other teen called after him. “Where are you going?”

This time it was Hitoshi’ s turn to ignored him. H is tactic seemed to work because, a second later, there was a thud from behind. Hitoshi didn’t even need to turn around to known that the sound was from the b lond dropping down onto the beach. Grinning, Hitoshi sprint ed away . Why not mess with the other boy just a tad? It wasn’t a game of questing now, it was a game of cat and mouse.

Chapter 17: Mouse Trap

Chapter Text

“Hey!” Katsuki shouted again, but Troll Hair – Shinso – was already gone. “What the f*ck,” he grumbled, following him into the heaps of trash.

From somewhere in the dump, he heard the sh*thead’s voice. It was dampened by the trash and sound of the waves, but he could just make out what Shinso was saying. “If you catch me, then I’ll tell you about your friend!”

“He’s NOT my friend!” Katsuki shouted back, but there was a grin working its way onto his face regardless. At least this was a game he knew he could win against that troll-haired shrimp. Shinso had some kind of mental quirk, but Katsuki could easily beat him with his explosions. Suddenly, the image of Deku scribbling in his stupid f*cking notebook popped into his head and his grin faltered. Yeah, he’d probably already know Shinso’s quirk and how to beat this guy. Katsuki shook his head hard. He didn’t need all that information to beat someone!

Without wasting a second more, Katsuki sprinted into the trash piles, rocketing over twisted metal and exploding any structures that got in his way. One pile collapsed under his fists to reveal Shinso scaling a pile of garbage rising at least a story into the air. To his surprise, Shinso turned and grinned sad*stically right back.

“Did you think you caught me?”

Katsuki’s toothy grin was absolutely feral now. “Yeah, you little-”

Snap. His body went slack. Katsuki knew this feeling; he had felt it earlier when Shinso had used his quirk on him. This time, however, he was much more conscious and fought the bindings of the quirk. If Katsuki had power over his body, his nose would be wrinkled with the snarl contorting his face. He was going to kill this extra and his stupid quirk.

“Get on you r knees,” Shinso hummed lazily from above . Unable to stop himself, Katsuki’s body got on its knees, head tilted towards the heavens where Shinso clung to the trash like it was made of clouds . In the evening light, the other teen looked borderline angelic. The blond’ s fury could melt steel at this point .

“Damn,” Troll Hair laughed. “You look pitiful.”

If Katsuki could move, he’d be using his fists to beat the other boy to a pulp right now. However, an odd sense of satisfaction was building deep within Katsuki and he fought harder, tring to drown the voice that hissed, ‘you like this.’ Was his face growing hot from anger, or was it something else entirely?

Shinso sighed. “Listen. I need you to listen right now,” he took another breath and averted his eyes. “I’m working to find someone who deserves to be saved. He saved me – a lot of people actually – and he’s fighting an evil we don’t quite understand yet.”

He fixed Katsuki with his piercing, yet exhausted lilac eyes. At this point, the blond didn’t know if it was his quirk or gaze that locked him in place more. Perhaps it was both because Katsuki was no longer fighting.

“Do you understand?” Shinso hummed, drawing closer to the other teen. He planted his feet in the small patch of sand where Katsuki sat on his knees completely at Shinso’s mercy. Troll Hair squatted down so their faces were at the same level, playful smirk carved deep into his mouth.

For some reason, the weight of his quirk lifted slightly off Katsuki’s shoulders and he fought the rest of his way out of it. Katsuki lunged as Shinso let out a small yelp, tackling the other boy in the sand. Shinso’s legs were quickly pinned by Katsuki’s hips as his hands gripped tightly around the troll hair’s wrists. Shinso looked rather shocked and flustered, pink riding high on his pale cheeks. Katsuki like him better this way.

“Listen up, Troll Hair,” the blond growled, low and dangerous. “I don’t f*ckin’ care that you want to play knight in shining armor. I want to help you find Deku, so just shut up and f*ckin’ let me in on the operation!”

Katsuki squeezed tighter, causing Shinso’s mouth to drop open and he squirmed futilely under his hands.

“Fine,” Shinso finally huffed, breathing hard, eyes pleading. “But it’s not up to me. We can go talk to my supervisor about bringing you on the team.”

Katsuki grinned and sat up. Shinso followed the movement and tried to catch his breath. Then he seemed to remember something and stiffened, tugging his hoodie sleeves down as soon as the other’s hands weren’t pinning him. He kept his eyes low. Why wasn’t the dumbass looking at him anymore?

“Hey, dude,” Shinso murmured rather shyly, eyes darting down to where Katsuki was still sort of pinning his legs. “Could you get outta my lap?”

“What the f*ck?” Katsuki sputtered, launching backwards. “I wasn’t sitting in your f*cking lap!”

Shinso – that bastard – was grinning. “You kinda were, though.”

“Shut up!” Katsuki roared, face heating up from what he refused to call embarrassment. “Just take me back to your superior officer!”

“Alright,” Shinso said, grunting as he got to his feet. “But I’m gonna need a name first.”

Katsuki crossed his arms and made a “tch” sound. “f*cking fine,” he grumbled, watching Shinso with careful eyes. His eyes were rubies in the sinking sun, contrasting with his white teeth. “Katsuki Bakugo.”

“No.” Naomasa said firmly, giving Shinso a hard look. Shinso and the police broker were originally supposed to meet at the intel spot, but the teen informant had asked last minute for the detective instead. Seeing now that he brought another boy along, Naomasa could guess at why he needed a direct source. He wasn’t happy about it, but he would at least hear the boy out.

“You’re the kid that came that day to the house, aren’t you?” He met the Bakugo boy with hard glare. He hoped to channel Aizawa and convey his utter annoyance. “I thought that we agreed to part ways.”

Shinso whipped his head around to scowl at the blond, too. It was painfully obvious that the two had not discussed the nature of their relationship or the circ*mstance surrounding it. Noamasa pinched his nose and let his breath come out slow, looking again back at Shinso.

“We already talked about this, Paradox . You are to keep your work your own. It says this directly in your contract.”

Now it was Bakugo’s turn to scowl at Shinso. “What the f*ck, Troll Hair? You’re just doin’ this for the paycheck?”

“No, actually.” Shinso said flatly. Truth , the detective’s quirk supplied somewhat uselessly. “But a police informant has its benefits. If you wanted to help, you should’ve pursued your path of vigilantism it seems, oh Lord Explosion Murder. ”

“ Hey! Don’t make fun of my name!” The blond roared.

“Hard not to with a name like that-”

“Boys.” Naomasa interjected, his patience wearing thin and hair graying before their eyes. Once he got their attention, he addressed Bakugo. “Is it true that you are a vigilantly?”

“No, old man. I know it’s illegal.” Truth , his quirk registered.

He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, we don’t need any more kids going missing or getting killed because they stuck their nose in the wrong hole. Do you understand?” Bakugo didn’t answer, so Naomasa continued. “I know that you’re worried about your friend-”

“He’s not my friend!” [ True ] The blond interrupted. “And I’m not worried.” [ Lie ]

What curious ideology. Naomasa removed his hat and ran a hand through his black hair, noting his quirk’s readings . “ As I was saying, don’t get involved. You could jeopardize our investigation and then none of us get what we want.”

“And what do you want,” he growled , ignoring how Naomasa literally just told him to give it up . “To write ‘case closed’ on your paperwork?”

“No. I want to save kids.” Kids like you, he added mentally .

“ Whatever,” Bakugo growled again, eyes darting somewhere off to his right. He shoved his fists into his pockets and bared his teeth in a feral snarl.

B efore either of them could react, Bakugo slapped Shinso upside the hea d. The other teen gawked, seemingly too stunned to do anything. Naomasa himself found his brows rise. The two of them stood frozen as they watched the blond walk off.

“Hey wait!” Naomasa called after him, breaking the frozen air. “It can be dangerous out there. I’ll give you a ride to the station after Paradox and I talk.”

Bakugo shook his head without turning around, removing a hand from his pocket and waving it. “Nah, I’m not a fan of waiting. I’ll see you around, Detective.” Then he looked back at Shinso, giving the boy a wink and sly smile. “Troll Hair.”

“You f*cker,” Shinso muttered under his breath, turning his head towards Naomasa again. Even though it was almost dark, he thought he noticed a slight flush working its way up the kid’s face. “Yeah, let’s talk. I’m sick of that asshole anyways.”

“Hey, watch your language,” Naomasa corrected, half joking and half trying to be a respectable adult. He then slipped his phone out and called the only man he knew would be willing to deal with an indignant brat at this time of night.

“Hey,” he spoke into the receiver. “I need a favor.”

Katsuki marched angrily in no particular direction. His hands were shoved so deep into his pockets that he might accidentally catch his pants on fire if he wasn’t careful. Of course that wouldn’t ever happen because he would never lose control of his quirk in such an embarrassing way.

Mostly he was just lost in his thought s . The image of Izuku down by the fountain picking up the remains of his notebook after Katsuki threw it into the water just kept playing through his head over and over. How many tears had streamed out of his eyes to mix with the stagnant water at his feet. If they hadn’t decided to pick on him that day, then he wouldn’t have been kidnapped and the Midoriyas would still be here. Now it was like they had been wiped off the face of the earth.

Katsuki shook his head. He refused to feel guilty for some nerd that got himself taken by villains. It was his fault for being so weak and trying to play hero. If people got hurt, then only Izuku was to blame. That nerd was also the reason he was slumming it on the streets long after he said that he’d be back. He’d shot his parents a text, but that hadn’t stopped their nagging.

In any case, he didn’t want to head home just yet. With everything that had transpired, home had become a minefield . Step on the wrong spot, and BOOM. Maybe the worst of it had come when a couple of police had knocked at their door a few days after Izuku’s disappearance and Katsuki had to explain where he’d seen the nerd last. Now he couldn’t stop seeing him.

“AHHHH!” Katsuki yelled into the night air, throwing back his head in frustration. He was so sick of feeling helpless. He wasn’t helpless! He was strong and someday he’d be the number one hero in Japan. W hy did he feel so goddamn useless?

He wasn’t that nerd, though. Unlike him, he could be useful, he just needed to figure out how. Cursing, Katsuki scaled a fire escape and reached the roof of a building. If he was going to think, he needed fresher air than whatever drifted by on the street level. T he re was a solace in seeing the world at night. The glow from the distant red light district coupled with the bustl e of evening painted a dazzling scene. He could also hear a hero fight far off in the distance that Izuku probably would’ve loved. Then he rejected that thought in utter disgust.

“Katsuki Bakugo.”

Said boy jumped about a mile in the sky at those words and spun around to find a tired looking… Hero? He wore black clothes, a silver scarf, and yellow goggles which he pushed up to reveal his bloodshot eyes. The dude needed some serious eye drops.

“ Who are you?” Katsuki sputtered. He vaguely recognized him as one of the men that came with the detective to Auntie Inko’s home the day the found Deku’s letters .

“What are you doing on a roof?” He deadpanned, ignoring Katsuki’s question entirely.

“What are you doing on a roof?” The blond retorted, crossing his arms.

The hero sighed and sat down next to where Katsuki stood. Instead of joining him on the ground, Katsuki merely stayed standing and refused to look away from the horizon.

“I was sent to find you, Brat.” He shot him a glare. “I’m Eraser H ead. So what the hell are you doing on a roof?”

Katsuki snorted at the the hero’s rough language and tone . Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. “ None of your damn business!” The blond grumbled.

Eraser Head sighed again and reached up to grab Katsuki by the shirt collar before yanking him down to join him where he sat. Katsuki fought the hero very briefly before giving in and seated himself an almost awkward distance away purely out of spite. Eraser Head ignored the gesture and stretched his arm across the space, placing a hand on Katsuki’s head to keep him down.

“Look over there,” Eraser Head rotated his hand so that the teen’s head moved with it. “Do you see it.”

Katsuki squinted. “The police station?” He deadpanned, words bitter in his mouth.

“Yeah, kid. It’s where we’ll be going after this.”

“What? Why!” Katsuki sputtered, wrestling the weight off his head and abruptly standing up.

Eraser Head – or whoever this guy was – fixed Katskui with a blank expression. “Because I’m sure you parents are worried and,” he pointed to the distant lights, “do you really want to explain why you’re right outside the Red Light district?”

Katsuki pouted and huffed, “I’ll just walk back.”

Eraser H ead raised an eyebrow. “What about villains?”

The teen opened his palms and allowed for the smallest explosions like pop rocks to burst from his fingertips. “Then I’ll f*ckin’ fight ‘em off!”

“Oh, really?” The pro’s tone was slightly teasing.

“ Yeah!” Katsuki was sick of being looked down upon by this man. Any respect at all was entirely gone.

“Prove it,” the other said, snapping his yellow goggles back over his eyes. “If you can hit me, then I’ll let you walk home.

“You’re on!” Katsuki grinned and shot forwards. He started out with his usual hook, but Eraser H ead easily deflected it and flipped him on his back.

“What is your relationship with the Midoriyas?”

Katsuki staggered to his feet and clenched his fists, hoping to accumulate sweat there before his next attack. “Family friends, but you already knew that!”

Less than a second later, Katsuki was flying forwards again. However, instead of throwing a punch this time, he raised his hand and unleashed the power of his explosion quirk.

“Die!” He shouted, but nothing happened. “What the hell-”

“My quirk allows my to erase any quirks such as yours.” He eyes were ruby red behind his goggles and his hair was floating in the night air as if he were underwater. Izuku probably would’ve loved to analyze him.

“Deku would love you,” the words slipped out before Katsuki could catch himself. To his surprise, Eraser H ead didn’t look all that angry about the statement.

“Do you mean my quirk?” He asked and Katsuki nodded. “I’ve read some of his analytical work and it’s hard to believe that he’s quirkless. He even knew of me and no one knows of me.”

Katsuki ‘tch’-ed and crossed his arms again. “He’s a f*ckin’ creep. You should stop looking.” If he was being honest, Katsuki wasn’t quit e sure why he said that. Wasn’t he trying to find Deku, too?

At first, Eraser H ead didn’t say anything. He just floated on silent steps towards Katsuki. Then something strange happened. Before he knew it, arms were wrapping around him in an embrace.

“Hey, what the f*ck?!” Katsuki choked out, caught off guard by the tears that dripped off his cheeks. Was he seriously crying? He beat his fists against the hero in retaliation, but for once in his life they hel d no strength. Eraser H ead never let go and Katsuki soon his gave up his feudal rebellion. For the first time in a long, long time, Katsuki cried. No, he was sobbing. It was pathetic.

“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” He choked out once he got a hold of his voice again.

“ Crying isn’t pathetic.” This time Eraser H ead allowed himself to be pushed back by Katsuki. “ Is there a reason you’ re upset?”

Katsuki glared, but answered anyways. “Because the police are useless.”

Eraser H ead arched an eyebrow. “How so?”

“They can’t find the villains fast enough.” Katsuki huffed.

“Investigations take time, especially when the villains are illusive.”

Katsuki looked away and wrinkled his nose at the city. He was unsure of what to say, so he remained quiet. Eventually Eraser Head came closer again and passed him a piece of paper with numbers scribbled on it.

“What’s that?” The teen said, looking at the offering.

“It’s my number. Please call me if you ever find yourself on a roof again or in need of assistance. I have a feeling that you’re not gonna give up, so I’m giving you the option not to go through this alone.”

Katsuki glared at the paper. I nstead of taking it , he abruptly gripped the pro’s wrist and pulled him forwards into a punch thrown with his other hand. It connected with the hero’s nose in a sickening crunch that made Katsuki grin as he finally snatched the paper up . Eraser Head’s hands flew up to grip at his nose, a wild grin of his own working its way onto his face.

“Nice one, kid.” He praised through his blood-soaked hands. “Forgot that the game never ended.”

Katsuki laughed wetly, shoving the paper into his pocket. “I land a hit, I walk home. That was the deal, crazy bastard.” He really was crazy. Who else smiled through a potentially-broken nose? (Well maybe Katsuki, but he didn’t count.) In any case, the pro put his hands up in the sign for surrender and took a few steps backwards.

“Get home safe, kid. And DON”T do anything stupid,” he emphasized with a hardness that only came from experience . “Don’t be stupid. Got it?” He emphasized one more time before hopping off onto an adjacent roof. A second later he was gone.

Shrugging, Katsuki fished the paper out of his pocket and typed it into his contacts lists, checking twice that he had typed it in correctly. Then his returned the paper and found his way off the roof the same way he climbed up.

As he walked home, he thought about the events of the day and a realization hit him then. He wouldn’t have to stop investigating; he merely had to hide his borderline vigilantism better. Vigilantism. Illegal, yes, but intriguing all the same.

Chapter 18: To Catch a Rat

Chapter Text

As Shouta hopped from roof to roof clutching his nose – the blood had stopped so it probably wasn’t broken – he couldn’t stop thinking about what the Bakugo’s youngest was going to do. His lips pressed firm as he entered the police station. Sure vigilantes had aided in investigations before, but they were often hero course drop outs, not teenagers with a hate-love relationship to the victim. It was too personal and Katsuki Bakugo needed to drop the case. At this point, he didn’t know too much and wasn’t at risk of jeopardizing the investigation.

If only Shouta’s students had even an ounce of determination like Bakugo…

The hero scowled. No, Bakugo was too brash and a hot head; those were going to get him hurt. It was part of the reason that the hero gave the teen his work number and trusted him not to prank call or give it away on some shady website. Perhaps he’d been too hopeful for wishing Bakugo would actually use it if he got too tangled up within his own investigation.

Shouta wasn’t so naive to believe that a stubborn kid like him would just stop on a whim. He knew teenagers, taught them for many years and still struggled to stop them once their minds were made up. In his experience, it was better to curb the ball than allow it to hit a mark head on.

Shouta poked his head into Tsukauchi’s office, finding the detective hadn’t arrived back yet. A smug expression crossed over his face because Shouta could snoop through Tsukauchi’s desk and perhaps uncover the identity of this Toshinori Yagi.

There was barely anyone in the police office at this time of night, so Shouta slunk over to Tsukauchi’s office and began rummaging. Mainly he just found old, private notes and office supplies, but something did catch his eye. A small notebook with wire ring binding sat at the bottom of the drawer. Picking it up, Shouta inspected it and found it to be an address book. Then he pulled his phone out of his zipper pocket and took pictures of the three pages of addresses before returning the book to its draw and closing it. Friends had each other’s addresses, right? They seemed friendly enough, Shouta shrugged.

Next he scanned the pictures. His own address was there – Shouta didn’t like that his address was written down – but so were about a dozen others. Shouta narrowed the search to a few houses around the areas he had seen the mysterious Toshinori and settled on exploring the housing around UA first. However, with the last of the trains stalled for the night, there would be no way to get there (he hadn’t driven the car Hizashi and him shared.) He could go after school tomorrow anyways since he’d already be in the area.

He got home close to midnight and Hizashi was already asleep in bed. When they first started dating, his husband would fall asleep on the couch or the counter waiting up for Shouta. The excitement of their relationship must’ve worn off though because at some point he stopped doing it. Honestly it was better that way because it made Shouta feel less guilty for coming home late and making him sleep in an uncomfortable position.

As Shouta settled into bed after a shower – he had been walking around with blood crusting his face – he slipped into bed. One of their cats came to sit on his head as his husband scooted closer in his sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible. Like many nights, he lay awake in his thoughts.

Izuku was aware of his senses, though he didn’t know how long he was gone or what happened. Where was he again? He was floating. Was he dead? Slowly, he opened his eyes and found himself suspended in a liquid. When he reached out, his hand bumped into glass too warped to see clearly out of. He retracted it and stared in no particular direction for a while, idling in how the system possibly worked or the chemical makeup of the solution he was floating in.

The more time that passed , the more he began to remember where he was and why he was there . How he was kidnapped and all the “kill training” he was going through. But w hy he was in this tank again ? Eventually, the liquid in said tank began to drain and Izuku slowly suck the the bottom like dirt in bathwater. Without anything to support his limp body, he would’ve come crashing forwards if not for the cold metal arm that gripped him and hauled him upwards . He was soon joined by the nurse.

“Hello, Two. How was your rest?” She smiled, pulling off his oxygen mask and removing the wires from his body . Instead of answering, Izuku looked up to see the metal claw extending from the ceiling. With a throb of pain behind his eyes, he looked back at her and squinted against the discomfort .

“ I woke up,” he croaked, finding it hard to discern if it was rough from from unuse or emotion. Perhaps both . He looked at his hands in utter awe, mystified by the fact he was actually alive and still retained his memories. U nless he forgot and just couldn't remember that he forgot, but the chance of a mind wipe was unlikely since he still remembered his life before coming here. He was grateful, but they were a little dimmer, darkened by the perpetual void that was this hospital from hell. It was like waking up and trying to grasp at a dream. The more you tried to snatch ribbons of thought, the more they slipped away. Izuku shivered.

The nurse smiled at him again. That ever endearing smile never did leav e her lips, did it . “ Let’s get you dressed before the big man sees you?” She gave him the softest playful punch, but Izuku still felt as if could topple him. Hell, he was so weak that even a breeze could push him down right now.

“Big man?” Izuku asked as he was released from the claw holding him up and the cold metal was replaced by warm hands. Then his brain fog cleared a bit and he realized she was talking about All for One. “Oh.”

Once Izuku had settled in a standing position, albeit wobbly, he followed her up and out of the tank. He could feel the gravity pull him more with each rung. Play along, that’s how you survive.

Survive. The word felt bitter on his tongue.

“Why does he want me?”

He couldn’t see her face when she spoke, but he was sure that there wasn’t a smile in her tone this time. “Questioning and conditioning.”

Izuku felt cold sweat break out on his skin. Had they found out about the information he leaked to the police? Or the fact that he remembered? Suddenly the emptiness of the lab hit.

“Umm, Nurse Clair?” He gripped his fist to stop the slight tremors wracking his hands. He glanced down and contemplated letting go, but the fall wouldn’t kill him and his body would just heal itself.

“Yes?” She still wasn’t looking at him; that wasn’t a good sign.

“ Um, where is the doctor?” His voice broke over the last syllable and he quickly scoped the lab when they reached the top of the tank , but all he could find were dark cells housing that should’ve been housing the other Chimera Nomu. The silence was palpable.

“He,” she began, finally turning towards him, her face taking up that ever present smile. “He’s getting a room in the medical ward all ready for you!”

Izuku gulped, willing his voice to work. “Why is it in there?”

“All for One says he wants to inspect how his quirk is settling in.”

“Oh. Wait, quirk?” Izuku sputtered.

“Yes, he gave you a low level quirk to test if Chimeras can hold multiple quirks.”

Izuku felt wobbly again and staggered forwards when they reached the lab floor. He had gone his entire life without having a quirk and now he didn’t how to feel about the situation. No, he knew how he felt. He didn’t want one of that man’s quirks.

“What is the quirk?” He instead asked.

“It is a weak shield that protects you from mental attacks. To be honest, I don’t think its supposed to be anything serious – you probably won’t even know its there – because he was just testing a hypothesis in the safest way possible. I’m sure there will be other, more grueling experiments conducted at a later point.”

Izuku audibly gulped at that, finding it hard to breath.

So All for One had performed a quirk transfer. It shouldn’t be possible, but Izuku was living proof. What’s more is that he couldn’t even feel the quirk, which was probably a testament to its minuscule strength. While resistance quirks were always active by default and the user had to be trained to turn it off, physical quirks were a different story.

Quirk theory suggested it was difficult to accommodate for physical quirks, for example Endeavor’s fire, because certain bodies like his were not born to handle such a power. If one were to suddenly procure a physical quirk, it could damage their bodies in ways that were only seen in extreme cases of exact opposite quirks. It was one of the reasons why quirk marriages were dangerous; a specific quirk was sought out through the binding of hands in order to produce a child with two extreme powers and were often unable to coexist. Based of the stories he’d heard, Izuku would take being quirkless over the child of a quirk marriage any day.

Looking back up, he searched her face for any more details for why she said it would be “ grueling.” Whether it be to him or the other Chimera kids, Izuku wasn’t keen on seeing what quirks All for One planned to torture them with. They stayed silent as she lead him to the showers to get cleaned up. Izuku shut his eyes against the chemical mist that berated his body and the intense scrubbing by robotic arms that accompanied it. If it weren’t for his accelerated healing, he’s sure that his skin would be raw or even bleeding by the end of it.

Once the blow dryer was satisfied, he slipped on the white uniform over his pale body. His freckles were so faded at this point that they could’ve easily been mistaken for tiny bruises. Thankfully there were no mirrors anywhere because every time Izuku caught his reflection, it was like staring into the hollow face of a ghost. What had he become?

Izuku laid back on the surgical table and was restrained. He tried to play along, but it was hard to when his anxiety was escalating into full panic.

“ You’re going to be fine,” Dr. Tsubasa reassured him, but Izuku felt the furthest from assured. In fact, he thought he might puke.

“U-um,” he choked. “Dr. I-”

“Hush, boy.” The Dr. spoke through his bristled mustache. He gave Izuku a pat on his forehead and began hooking up vital monitors to him. Izuku’ s base instinct not to annoy adults was a strong one no matter how much he despised it. Instead Izuku just tried to ignore the fact that he was restrained. Once the doctor had finished, he stepped back to seemingly admire his work.

“ He will be in shortly.” T he doctor then set up a camera and microphone so that it was directly facing Izuku. The teen gulped nervously and felt a bead of sweat roll from his forehead monitor down to his Adam’s apple.

“Chimera project test subject two, tape three. Quirk transfer evaluation. Loyalty evaluation and interrogation.” Dr. Tsubasa spoke into the camera.

He gave some other details that Izuku already knew, so he didn’t really pay attention to the video records. It was hard to focus when he was panicking about this supposed “interrogation.” Also, the doctor implied two tapes prior to the creation of this one? Okay, Izuku couldn’t control his heart rate monitor or breathing anymore and instead attempted to disassociate by staring at a corner of the room. Thankfully, the spike evened out again, but that victory was short lived as the door swung open in front of Izuku and the living embodiment of evil stepped through.

Izuku’s heart rate monitor definitely went off, but he could barely hear it through the rush of blood flowing past his ears in quirk rhythm. Bu-dum, bu-dum, du-dum. All for O ne stepped closer, remaining just out of frame of the camera. His eyeless gaze bore into Izuku and he squirmed under it, finding his binding s tight and he too weak to even cower beneath such power. Evil emanated from every fiber of the villain's being.

“No,” Izuku croaked , tears slipping into his eyes. All for One had definitely not felt this menacing the first time they had met. Then Izuku felt something like a calm spread from his head throughout his body, instantly taking the edge off and making the fear manageable.

Izuku sat back, still shaking. There was another horrifying push on his psyche, but again it was met by a soothing hand within his mind. Was that a quirk All for One was using? Could what he was feeling be whatever quirk All for One gave him during the transfer to combat mental attacks?

All for One laughed suddenly – it was hard and humorless – which broke the tension a s he retracted whatever menacing quirk he was using.

“ Ah , I see,” he remarked, voice low and thoughtful . “It had to be forced in order to activate.”

Izuku willed his face expressionless and his thoughts to remain inside his head. Did that mean that a transferred quirk could only be activated once the user’s body was put under immense stress in order to express it? To bind it like a chemical reaction? If so, that would explain why he hadn’t felt the quirk when he first woke up and why he felt a slight buzz to his skin now. Seeing that it was a relatively weak quirk, it hadn’t taken much to activate it. However, for a much more powerful quirk… Izuku’s eyes prickled.

He barely noticed when the doctor began rushing to take samples and run tests. Whether out of shame or fear, Izuku tried to ignore the camera and the man standing just past his bound feet. The quiet was short lived, though , because All for One addressed him again.

“Two,” he spoke, volume low and menacing.

When nothing came of it, Izuku realized that he was waiting for an answer. “Y-yes, Sir?” He squeaked. If his hands were free, he’s definitely be fiddling with something right about now.

Silence again. Then, “We’ve had an information leak.”

Izuku look ed up, pure terror in his eyes. Had they found out about the notebook and letters already? Were they going to kill him? His muscles relaxed at that thought. Would it be so bad to die? He wasn’t really Izuku Midoriya anymore; his appearance and composition had changed too much. Plus he was a murderer now. Was he a murderer? The Nomu he killed – no, the people he killed – were already dead. Izuku shook his head, but before he could say anything, All for One beat him to it.

“Do you see this man?” All for One projected an image of an older man with purple-ish gray hair, purple glasses, several missing teeth, and a thin goatee . So he wasn’t talking about Izuku after all. He relaxed and let out the breath he was holding.

“Yes, Sir.” Izuku answered, very much playing into the almost robotic ideation he thought a mindless servant should have.

“ He has talked with a police informant. Once we figure out who this information was leaked to, you will assassinate them as well.”

Izuku’s stomach dropped and his body stilled from the sudden weight of those words. “ K-kill?”

All for One’s face returned to its neutral state which almost more terrifying. “I’ve noticed that you have trouble killing.”

“I-I just d-don’t like it,” he stuttered. Old habits die hard. And why should anyone like killing? When someone took another person’s life, they were also murdering a piece of soul within everyone that loved the victim.

“S-sir. If I may…” He waited for a response and was surprised when All for One actually nodded. “ When I first was placed in my room at the lab, there were people that came to view me. Was he one of those?”

All for One stroked his oxygen mask and grinned. “Yes.”

“T-then why did you let them see me if they were going to talk to the pros?”

“Tell me, my boy,” All for One chuckled. He hated being called ‘my boy,’ as if Izuku was his son. “How do you catch a rat?”

“Um,” Izuku said, trying to follow his train of through. “A trap?”

“You catch it with cheese.” The words were sharp, quiet. It wasn’t just a trap for that purple-themed man if the frigid warning spoken on his tongue was any indication.

“ Your rat won’t take some stupid cheese ,” Izuku glared, something within him suddenly breaking his facade. It was a monster that he picked up living with these villains, but he usually suppressed it for the sake of playing along. To his relief, All for One didn’t look too angry. In fact, he looked thrilled.

He grinned through his grotesque features. “That’s why I’m sending my cat.”

“Cat?”

“Well, you’re still a kitten, but today you become a cat.”

The clatter of medical tools sounded behind him as the doctor (Izuku had honestly forgotten that he was here) pushed his medical cart over. Izuku eyed the array of equipment as All for One shut the door. He anxiety was building and he gave another tug at his restrains with a little more force this time. His heart was beating with such strength that he could actually hear its beat in his ears accompanied by the sharp and quickening intake of his breath.

“ Relax, Two,” Dr. Tsubasa trilled as if he was excited to torture him. Hell, he probably was.

“We’re just going to make sure you’re ready for a high stakes kill mission,” All for One reassured him. He was pretty sure he’d heard the teachers at his school telling some of their students that. f*ck, why was he thinking of that now? “I want you to focus on the images in your mind and my words.”

There was a horrific pain in his neck and Izuku cried out. “What-”

“I just injected you with a quirk suppressor and narcotic in order to allow us better access.”

It was getting harder for Izuku to focus on the doctor’s words. Smooth fire ( w as that even a thing?) worked its way through his veins in a painful pulsing rhythm. Izuku groaned as his head began to swim and the shapes under his vision began to twist like smoke.

“Do you see this man?” The words were echoed and distance like Izuku was under water. Was he under water? Where was he-

“Two.” The voice came again, more insistent this time.

“Wa-” he slurred, eyes rolling until they caught the image of a man projected arms length away from his face. “Who’sss that?”

“Your target.”

Unpleasant memories flooded his head and he shook his head to try to clear it. “Target.” He repeated.

“I need you to kill him.”

Izuku’s head lolled back. “Nope,” he all but sang. “I don’t kill people. Imma hero!”

Izuku screamed as a shock that was probably seconds but felt like a minute assaulted his body. When the electricity cut off, his body went limp and he tried to fold over himself, but he was still restrained and thus failed. Izuku barely registered the hands that grabbed him and shoved him into a head brace that forced him to look at the image.

“You WILL kill this man.” The voice – was it All for One? – said.

“That’sss okay.” Izuku groaned. He was met with another shock of electricity. “Okay okay okay!”

“What are you going to do?”

Izuku’s brain lagged and he felt drool drip down over his chin. Another shock had his body suddenly stiffening. There was side chatter, but Izuku wasn’t too concerned. The swirling of light and shapes were mesmerizing.

“Two.” The voice said more aggressively. “If you don’t want to cooperate, them I’m going to use Min dscape on you.”

Izuku giggled. Actually giggled. It hurt so bad. Everything hurt so bad. “I’m going to use Mindscape on you!” He retorted childishly.

There was more side chatter. Then all the pretty, swirling shapes were gone, replaced by a darkness he’d only ever known in his worst nightmares.

Chapter 19: Sands of Time

Chapter Text

The world was an inky black. Where there should be ground was replaced with a thin layer of water the color of wet soot. When he cupped a bit of it in his hands, it turned to sand and slipped back into the evil below his feet. Only a dim light coming from a small All Might lamp – he’s pretty sure he owned one exactly like it before Kacchan broke it – separated him from the abyss.

He swayed on his feet, unsure why he was so unsteady as he waded over to the curious object. Perhaps the effects of the narcotic were significantly depleted, yet not entirely gone here. Where was here anyways? What had All for One called it? An illusion?

“Hello!” Izuku shouted, but there was nothing. No echo, no answer. Just an empty void of forever darkness. He could feel how endless the world around him was. It was so quiet, in fact, that he could actually hear his own heart pumping. He spun around in circles, kicking up sand and throwing it into the emptiness. He couldn’t hear anything besides himself and it made him nauseous. He stumbled, falling onto his hands and knees. Perhaps it was the lack of any echos that were making it hard to walk properly.

Izuku rasped and thought he heard a whisper. His head whipped up only to find nothing. Was that just his imagination? “H-Hello?” He called again, stumbling back up and jogging as best he could towards the sound and into the the darkness. The further from the light he got, the darker the world. Eventually, he spotted a tiny light dotted in the distance. Hope swelled in his chest, but as he neared it, he realized it was just the All Might lamp again. There was another whisper he couldn’t discern.

Izuku clutched at his messy curls and yanked hard, much like how people pinch themselves to wake up from a nightmare. However, nothing happened. Instead his hand just came away with hair that turned to sand in his palm. He took a breath and pressed his hand to his forehead, listening to the sand as it dropped into the water and became liquid.

“It’s just a quirk.” He reasoned, trying to calm himself. “It’s All for One’s quirk.”

Despite his best efforts, he could feel panic rising in the form of spine tingling shivers. Izuku didn’t know what was scarier: being alone, or being alone in one’s own head. Izuku thought it was the later one as he sloshed over to the All Might lamp and plopped down next to it. He tried to focus on his breathing, but being aware of his breathing was making him panic even more. The subtle whispering served as some distraction at least.

Gathering up all his courage, Izuku shouted, “All for One. Why did you bring me here?”

Sure he didn’t necessarily want to talk with the man, but it was better than feeling abandoned in a limbo-like realm. Izuku didn’t know how long he’d been here for, but he felt himself slipping closer and closer to insanity by the second. He laughed a little at that out loud and had to cover his mouth because it fringed on unhinged and that scared him.

Soon, dust devil blew upwards from the swirling waters and turned to sand in the air. When it had cleared, the man – the broker from the picture he was supposed to kill – had appeared. He was most likely an illusion as well, but it didn’t stop Izuku from staggering over to inspect the figure. He was partially relieved that he wasn’t alone anymore, even if the company was a lifeless doll.

At one point in time, he might’ve even cried with relief. Perhaps Izuku was becoming something of a doll himself.

“H-hello,” Izuku stuttered, walking around the figure twice. The other said nothing. Instead, the disembodied voice of All for One answered.

“This is the man you will kill.”

Izuku spun around widely before settling on talking to the pitch darkness above his head. “I-I don’t want to k-kill this man.”

“My boy, this is what you were made for.”

Oh right, Izuku reminded himself. He was supposed to pretend that he had no recollection of being human before this. A selfish part of himself told him to play along in order to escape this torture, but another argued that he should just stay; it would be safer for everyone if he never escaped this place. He ignored that voice of reason.

Stick to the facts. “But I-I never killed a person.”

“I can help you, my boy.”

‘Help you.’ Izuku swallowed hard, wondering what he meant by that. Were they going to mess with his brain? What if they succeeded in taking his memories this time? What if he became a true monster?

No, he was already a monster. Maybe not as disfigured as the Nomu he fought, but broken all the same. He may be beyond repair, but that didn’t mean he wanted a person forged from All for One’s desires to control his body. Then again, his body wasn’t entirely his anymore.

He chose his next words very carefully. “Thank you for your compassion, sir. However,” he bit his lip, “I fear it is my body that is the issue, not my mind.”

“The mind controls the body.”

“Yes, however-”

“Enough.” Izuku shrunk away from the disembodied command. It could scarcely be called a conscious reaction. “You do not have emotion, yet you’ve proved that you show it. It seems that you are another failed experiment.”

His heart beat was like a jackrabbit in his chest and he thought he might pass out. Somehow he found his voice. “W-wait, Sir!” Anything to escape this place, he thought. “I-I can do it!”

A part of him wondered w hy was even begging. Guess he didn’t want to die just yet, o r maybe it was something in his past pushing itself to the surface. Maybe he didn’t like feeling abandoned. Perhaps it reminded him too much of when his father left his mother and him because Izuku was too weak. He was still so weak .

“Prove it.” All for One commanded, leaving no room for argument. “If you truly want to serve, then you will kill this man.”

Izuku didn’t want to serve him, but getting out of here could mean leaving more evidence for the police. Plus, this was just an illusion, right?

Suddenly a knife swirled into his hand. Izuku glared at it, then looked up at the lifeless doll. Izuku took a breath, closed his eyes, then sunk his knife deep into the stranger’s chest. The man didn’t do so much as flinch and simply toppled over, convulsing slightly. He melted back into sand which turned to water mere moments later.

“See,” All for One praised. “Look how easy it is to obey me. Look, you’re even smiling.”

Izuku breathed shallow and quick, sinking to his hands and knees. When he brought one hand up to his face, he could feel the contortion of his lips. He gave a small laugh as the world began to dance around like before. Were the narcotics finally catching up with him?

“Again.”

A new version of the target appeared, this time showing emotion. First it was confusion , then fear as Izuku charged him . He had him pinned in a second, hating how simple it was to press his blade to the man’s neck.

“ Y-you may know me as Giran!” The figure choked, trying swallow over the pressure from the blade. Christ , Izuku could smell cigarettes on his breath. The man’s capped teeth glinted in the light of the All Might lamp. “ L-look! I have connections, kid. I can get you anything you want! ”

He was trying to humanize himself, Izuku’s brain supplied uselessly. He wasn’t real; Izuku slit his throat. “You’re not real,” he told the corpse as if to convince himself of the fact. Still, he couldn’t stop the tremors that wracked his hands.

“Don’t let him touch you. His quirk can wipe minds. While you have a quirk that will lessen the extent of the damage, it doesn’t mean that there won’t be damage. You have enhanced strength; use it, my boy.”

And Izuku did. As soon as the next illusion appeared, h e sliced through the its arm like butter. The figure screamed. Izuku grinned without any joy to speak of. It was all he could do to not lose himself completely. Perhaps this was All for One’s purpose for bringing him here, to break him.

They continued like that, fighting different versions, for a long time until All for One was satisfied and Izuku could barely count the number of times he had killed Giran.

“Good,” All for One said, sounding pleased. “How do you feel.”

To be honest, Izuku felt like vomiting and passing out. He didn’t say this, of course. Instead, he answered, “Ready to complete my mission, sir.”

With that, the scene around him evaporated and he was back where he started, in the chair with that f*cking camera and medical equipment that laid around him. He knew the smell of sterilized metal quite well now. The full force of the narcotic coma he was surely in hit him hard. The world whizzed by and he felt as if he were slipping, flipping through space and time. He barely noticed when his restrains were loosened and the nurse gave him some sort of reversal.

He was distantly aware of the laughing and crying that echoed around him. He never thought he’d be so happy to hear an echo.

It was several hours before he had come to his senses enough to be cleared to return to his room, his cage . Even if his head was no longer swirling, there was still the whisper of voices that seemed to trail him like flies, whispering into his ear no matter how hard he swatted at them. They always came back. What he had heard in the walls before was louder now, seemingly encouraged . He fully jumped when a dark shadow pressed itself against the glass of his room. He stared at it for a long time, paralyzed with fright. Eventually, he got up the courage to speak.

“W-who a-are you?” His voice cracked. But the figure just stood there staring for a long time. Cold sweat broke out over his skin and he closed his eyes. No more that ten minutes later, he heard a knocking within the walls behind him.

“T-there is nothing on the other side,” he breathed, voice quivering . It was true; the walls were solid concrete, but the knocking sounded so real . His heart was racing and he wished that he could turn on the lights. The spike in hallucinations was probably a side effect of the narcotic from earlier. Still, the knocking persisted. He hid under the covers.

“Are you gonna kill me?” The voice was clear as day and sounded right next to his bed as if a child was kneeling there . Izuku screamed and f l ew up from under his sheets, but there was noting there. It sounded so real.

“You’re not real,” Izuku choked out loud this time as if it changed anything. Shaking, he walked over to the sink and doused his face in cold water.

Several days later, Izuku was sitting on the side of his bed. He had put on his black jeans, shoes, and hoodie. He also had been given a black fume mask which hung around his neck when it wasn’t being used . He was now allowed to carry s everal knives and a melee weapon s . The melee weapon was made up of a pair of scythes joined together at the bas e. The blades were turned so that the curve of each blade was opposite one another. When the weapon was being explained to him, the doctor had said that it could separate into two separate scythes, but Izuku hadn’t tried yet. He hated it because he could smell the blood on its blades already . Finally there was the note that had been laid across his pile of clothing. It simply read: Lucky Ramen Bar and Casino.

Izuku shook his head. Somehow, it was fitting place to assassinate someone who made money off gambling information to heroes and villains alike.

Eventually, the purple smoke he began to associate with All for One swirled a few feet in front of him. Without a word, he slung the double bladed scythe over this back where it stayed locked in place via a magnet in his spinal plating. Then he stepped through.

Chapter 20: Into Reality

Chapter Text

The night air brushed cool against Izuku’s exposed skin, yet it was warmer than the last time he was outside his prison. Turning in circles, Izuku tried to figure out where exactly here was. He had been teleported into what looked to be an ally with no identifying features. One end backed a building while the other was open. The open end radiated colorful light and party music, so he had to guess that he had landed in one of the many entertainment districts that operated after daylight hours.

Despite there not being anyone else in the ally, Izuku suddenly felt very conspicuous with the double scythe locked to his back like a great neon sign telling people to not be afraid. He removed the weapon with a sigh and quickly found the small buttons on the base of each scythe the doctor had told him about. This, he found, collapsed the conjoined shafts to about half its size beneath the blade. Izuku thought it would also make it easier for using each one separately should he require dual wielding. Then he was able to fold it at the connection point. Finally, the weapon was small enough to hide under his green, baggie hoodie. It was an awkward fit and gave him a slight hunchbacked appearance, but he supposed it worked enough.

Izuku pulled his mask and hood up to conceal his overgrown, snowy hair and green eyes. His hands were trembling slightly, so he plunged them deep into his front hoodie pocket. When he finally crossed the threshold of of the ally, he was bombarded with the thrill of neon lights, tipsy party goers, and obnoxious music. After spending an eternity in social and sensory deprivation, the scene was almost too overwhelming. Izuku squinted, jaw growing tight and heart speeding up its already rapid pace. He sucked air in through his nostrils and kept his eyes low. It was like being at school again, just now it was about a hundred times worse.

Still, a part of him had missed the sight of other people doing normal people things. A small group of friends passed him; they were talking about some drama involving boys. He watched them with with something between curiosity and jealousy. Half of him was glad they did know the terrors of society, but the other part resented them for not knowing. For not seeing how much Izuku was made to suffer because he wasn’t normal. Would he have been like them if he’d never gotten mixed up with All for One? Would he have made friends? He shook the absurdity of what he was thinking. There was no changing what was, all he could do was protect people that lived in blissful ignorance.

Izuku pushed past girls who were a little too tipsy and men who were a little two handsy. He would’ve liked to tell the men to back off, but that would make him stand out a little too much. (His height and attire made him already look like he didn’t belonged.) Besides, he would’ve helped if it hand gone too far, but the women had it handled; one kicked a guy in the crotch while the other pepper sprayed him. Izuku smiled; it seemed that not everything required the use of a quirk after all.

Izuku picked up his pace when he saw two heroes – Mr. Brave and perhaps a newly debuted hero – were patrolling out of his peripheral. They were on the other side of the street talking, but Izuku was still nervous by their presence and moved to hide on the other side of a group of young teens. They were laughing and too engrossed in conversation for them to notice the intruder. Plus, it helped that Izuku was small because he often flew under the radar.

“Hey!” Mr. Brave shouted in his direction. “Stop!”

Izuku’s blood ran cold and he was a half second away from bolting when someone knocked into into him with enough force to knock Izuku on the ground. Thankfully, his training paid off and his body rolled and assumed a crouch. He was already reaching for his scythe when his eyes caught the movement of the man the heroes were actually chasing after. Izuku glared in the direction before standing up and continuing down the street.

“Hey,” someone behind him said. Izuku just ignored the voice at first because no one ever talked to him. Besides, what reason would someone have for talking to someone like him? After all, Izuku imaged he looked super sketchy with his hood and mask up, and subtle pull of his weapon against the fabric covering his backside. No, no person in their right mind would ever talk to Izuku. They never did unless it was to start something, and Izuku was most certainly was not looking to draw attention to himself.

There was a tap on his shoulder and Izuku spun around, hand already drawing the knife he kept hidden at his waist. His body naturally moved into a fighting stance and he brought the knife up so that it pressed against his forearm protectively. The boy that had touched him stumbled back, shock written clear across his face. Based on the way the other moved, Izuku could clearly tell that he had no combat training and the fact was slightly comforting; he had thought the heroes had caught onto him for a second. (He really needed to work on his reactions because if he had actually pulled a knife on a hero, then that would definitely be suspicious.) That being said – Izuku’s eyes flitted down to where the teen’s arm had come up to shield himself – there was no blood to speak of. Izuku was sure his knife had grazed the other boy.

“S-sorry about that,” Izuku laughed, taking a shaky breath and returning the knife to its place beside him. He was unuse to his own voice and it sounded almost foreign to him. Had it always sounded so airy? He paused for what felt like a half second too long to consider the fact and then rushed his explanation. “I, um, I’mma little on edge.”

His eyes caught on the softening flesh on the other boy’s arm and he had the urge to ask about his quirk, but the other teen laughed (much more genuinely) before he could, revealing his shark-like teeth. He brought a hand up to scratch his jet black hair which contrasted awkwardly with his ruby eyes. Did his strange features have to do with his quirk? “All good, man. Just wanted to ask if you were alright!”

Izuku straightened, eyes darting to the boy’s friends, but they luckily didn’t seem interested. They were busy gushing over the heroes who had just rushed past them. Izuku really should’ve just said that he was fine, but he hadn’t had any interaction with anyone his age in a while. He hadn’t had any interaction with anyone outside the lab in a while period. In fact, the last time he had talked face to face with someone, it had been before he was turned into a monster.

“Why do you care?” Izuku blurted, unable to quell his skepticism about why this person was going out of their way to check on him.

“Um,” the boy chuckled, ruby eyes dropping to where Izuku had hit the ground. “It just seemed like it hurt, that’s all. I just wanted to make sure you were alright!”

“Thank you,” Izuku nodded, backing up slightly in an attempt to leave without outright looking like he was running away because he had a feeling that this kid would try to follow him. “I’m fine.”

“Ah, wait! Where are you going?”

Izuku bristled and leveled him with a glare, searching for any indications that this boy would reveal his cover. Then Izuku shook his head because that was ridiculous and he wouldn’t protect All for One. He decided to probe the boy to actually see if he wanted to help him. “First answer me this.”

The other teen smiled something that could rival All Might’s smile and it instantly caused something within him to relax. He wished he could smile like that again. “What’s your quirk?”

The boy looked taken aback and Izuku suddenly regretted what he said because it did sound a bit out of pocket, but then the look of shock was gone and he smiled. “It’s called Hardening! I can make my body super hard which is why your, um, knife, didn’t hurt me.”

Izuku glanced away at the mention of his weapon. Seriously, when had he become so feral as to draw a knife in public? Only villains did that kind of thing, so did that make him a villain? He decided to push that conversation off to a later date. For now, he wanted to ask about this quirk. For instance: How long did it last? How hard could his skin get? Could be build muscle mass as a byproduct of continuously flexing his quirk? But maybe most importantly…

“Are you going to be a hero?” The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop himself, baring some form of childish innocence he thought he’d lost.

“Yeah!” He cheered, pumping his fist just slightly into the air with excitement. “I’m going to go to UA!”

A pang of something – perhaps it was grief – hit Izuku at the mention of that school. His final day at Aldera middle school he had said he wanted to go there, a meek, quirkless boy. Everyone’s laughter still rung in his ears, but it didn’t really matter now. The dream was as dead as Izuku Midoriya. In the eyes of his captors, he was Two.

For all the sh*t he used to take, he wouldn’t have traded it for his life now. If he could go back, Izuku would have never left school that day. He smiled, eyes heavy atop his thin cheeks.

“That’s incredible,” he tried to sound excited, but he was nearly deadpan despite his efforts. “I wish you the best of luck in the entrance exams.”

“Thanks!” The black haired boy cheered. Taking that as his cue to leave, Izuku turned and let his head drop again. “Oh, wait!”

Izuku stopped dead in his tracks, but didn’t turn to face the hero-to-be. “Yeah?”

“My name’s Eijiro Kirishima by the way! What’s yours?”

Izuku sighed. He couldn’t exactly tell Kirishima his given name because the police were likely hunting for him. While he did want to get caught, going about it in this way wouldn’t work because it would only get Kirishima assassinated by All for One before the heroes could even touch him. At this point, Izuku would probably be the one told to do it. No, he had to protect someone so kind and caring.

“It’s Two,” Izuku said, grimacing at the way his serial number sounded on his tongue.

“Huh? Like the number-”

Before Kirishima could ask any more questions, Izuku took off sprinting towards the nearest ally and jumped onto the roof of a one story building there. If he was being honest, he didn’t know he could do that. His body protested with the impact; the enhancements the doctor had forced on him were almost too powerful for Izuku’s thin and scrawny body. He just hoped that they’d grow with his body because it would be painful and tiring to keep having to replace them every time his teenage body decided to have a growth spurt.

In any case, Izuku took off running across the rooftops like he had seen so many pros doing on the news. However he soon found that it was discerningly more difficult than everyone had made it look. Izuku completely miss calculated and ate roof gravel after jumping the gap between one building and the next.

Groaning, Izuku spat blood and part of a tooth out before pushing himself to his feet. He could feel the damaged tooth begin to reform in his mouth and was subtly happy to know he wouldn’t have to get it replaced with one of the doctor’s inventions. Perhaps all his teeth had already been replaced with nightmarish gadgets. Izuku shivered at the thought.

When he was steadied on his feet, he went over the the edge facing the street in order to get a better scope of the area. He was looking for a place called the Lucky Ramen Bar and Casino where supposedly his target was located. Izuku’s head fizzled a little with phantom pain when the image of his target popped up in his mind. What would he even do if he found Giran?

“Are you gonna kill me?” Izuku jumped spun around, but there was no one behind him. It was exact same voice he had heard right beside him while in bed. Izuku was sure he was hallucinating now because the voice was crisp as if it existed apart from the noise of night life around him. He told himself that it was probably a result of the extreme mental strain his mind was under and not that he was going crazy just yet.

Izuku tried to lower his heart rate and wiped his eyes despite his mounting anxiety. Was he really going to kill Giran? He had killed the man so many times in so many different ways in All for One’s mindscape, but this was the real world. Real blood. Real screaming. Real death.

“This is the real world.” He affirmed out loud to himself. “Giran is alive here.”

And if you’re not careful, his mind happily supplied, you’ll be the reason he dies.

Izuku shook his head to clear his thoughts. It wasn’t like he was actually going to do it, right? He was suddenly very aware of the weight of the weapons he carried and decided to make a decision once he got there. On one hand, killing Giran could mean that Izuku wouldn’t be tortured again, but Izuku was too self sacrificing to let that be the reason to take another person’s life. On the other hand, sparing his life, like the way he did his mother’s, could earn him an ally and informant. Yeah, the latter was looking like the better option. Could All for One really be deceived?

Standing once again, he stumbled over the roof tops on unpracticed legs, only falling a few times more before spotting his destination. The neon sign, reading “Lucky Ramen,” hung off the side of a bustling four story bar and casino across from the building he was currently standing on. Izuku eyed the entrance nervously, spotting a few sex workers talking up a crowd of drunk men and drawing them into the establishment. There was also security at the entrance and their quirks seemed to be mutant based if the mixture of human and animal parts were anything to go by. The line of people waiting to enter was extraordinary in length and curved around onto the next street. To top it all off, there were a few heroes patrolling the streets below and escorting people into caps.

Izuku gulped air and turned to press his back against the meter high cement wall lining the edge of the roof. He carded a hand through his colorless hair and tried to formulate a plan. He could enter through the roof and search for Giran top to bottom, therefore limiting the risk of someone thinking he was out of place if he had made it to the top floor without a bouncer throwing him out. After all, Izuku’s short stature and lean frame definitely made him look much younger than he actually was. He hoped the people inside the club were much too drunk or energized to care about a minor wearing street clothes in their midst.

With a half-baked plan, he pushed himself up and climbed off the roof. When he reached street level, he kept his head down until he had crossed to the other side and scaled the Lucky Ramen building. Once he was on the roof, he found the roof door and kicked it open. It flew off its hinges with a loud bang and clattered down the stairs. Izuku cringed and the noise. He hadn’t meant to hit it that hard, really! He hoped no one had noticed over the deafening music as he raced down the stairs to grab the door. Then he dragged it back up the stairs and leaned it against the frame because it no longer fit properly with the massive dent he’d left in the center. He couldn’t decide if it looked worse as a gaping doorway or an obstructed one.

In the end he wrote out a brief apology with his finger in the dust. Then, with a small pat to the decrepit piece of steel, he raced back down the stairs and into the empty fourth story. Apparently it was under construction because there was dust coating tools unopened boxed with plastic strapping them together.

He followed the boom of the music to a stair well and descended. When he had reached the door leading to the third story, he stopped and took a breath. Even through his mask he could smell the alcohol and sweat and pleather that seemed to draw the partiers in like moths to a flame. Fining his resolve, he pulled the door open and entered the organized chaos.

Chapter 21: Broker to Kill

Chapter Text

The music resonated throughout Izuku’s body with such force he feared he might break apart, but the feeling took his mind off the current situation and for that he was grateful. It was hard to think, hard to even move because the room was packed like a case of live sardines. Izuku cursed his small stature for how much he was jostled around. It was almost like no one even noticed him, but this was different than the intentional alienation he received as a kid. Here, it was like one could forge a new identity; everyone was gone with the feeling of the bone-shuddering music and alcohol. No one cared what anyone else was doing, they were too wrapped up in the feeling. For some reason, a smile touched his lips as he dodged a pool of what he hopped wasn’t vomit.

After a great amount of pushing and getting some nasty looks, he learned to move with the crowd. It was like the ebb and flow of tides, so all he had to do was drift with the current. While that method did take longer, he was able to make it to one of the support beams across the room. He clung to it like a kitten in a flood, looking up at the dark, tapestry-covered ceiling above. His eyebrows lowered as he studied the structure; an idea popped into his mind. Climbing the support would offer a better scope, but then there was the issue of unanimity.

Multiple shouts broke through the music and Izuku froze, fearing that the heroes from earlier had somehow tracked him here. However his anxieties were quelled when his green eyes fell upon a rather rowdy group of young men playing chicken. The boys sitting on the shoulders of their friends exchanged half hazard punches and laughs. Izuku even felt himself staring, but he wasn’t the only one. A small crowd of onlookers had begun to gather around the spectacle.

Izuku shook his head and seized this as his chance to climb the support beam. Since it stood off to the side of the main floor and was in a much darker area, he hoped that no one would look away from the men before he could finish scouting for Giran. When he couldn’t match any of the faces with the one that had been burned into his memory, he quickly made his way down from his perch and squeezed back out into the hall. As soon as he shut the door, he released the breath he hadn’t even known he was holding.

As terrifying and awful as that was, there was also an almost liberating element to it. For the first time since this nightmare began, Izuku truly felt human, a piece of himself he hadn’t even realized was missing. The feeling wasn’t strong enough to make him want to go back into the room, but it offered reassurance that perhaps he wasn’t a complete monster after all. Again, a small smile worked its way onto his lips and he reveled in the teaspoon of relief.

There were shouts from beyond the door as one of the teams crashed to the floor. Izuku’s smile fell and and he pushed off and away from the roaring mob. It vibrated to the beat of the music, a sensation that seemed to follow him as he headed down to the second level.

The operation was a bust. At least, that’s the conclusion Izuku came to after scouring all four stories of the Lucky Ramen Bar and Casino twice. He picked at the cuticle lining his stubby thumbnail as he leaned against a discarded slot machine on the fourth story, lost in thought. He was running out of time and he wasn’t exactly excited to see what All for One would do should he turn up empty handed. His breath hitched and he shivered at the thought of more torture.

Either his information was wrong, or he’d tipped off his target and the man had already fled. He supposed that he could’ve just missed him, but that was unlikely since he had been as thorough as possible. (He had even searched the men’s bathrooms! And those were filthy.) Looking down at his ripped jeans and sweatshirt, he supposed that anyone with even a hint of paranoia would’ve fled the minute they saw him.

Izuku wished he could flee too, and the thought of returning to his cage in the lab like some rat brought upon a cold sweat that caused moisture to bead on his forehead. Would he be sent back to All for One’s mental prison? The feeling of having to slosh through water that turned to sand in his palms berated him. It ensnared Izuku’s being and the scene of killing, killing, so much killing, played over and over again in his head. He wanted to forget, but his body remembered and his hands were wracked with tremors. He shook his head, but the images only intensified under closed lids as if it were a movie projected onto a screen. He pressed his palms to his eyes until the swirling of dull color like a kaleidoscope interrupted the images. It hurt, still he sighed with relief.

Outside came the ever-present music, shouts, and the sound of honking all bathed in artificially-colored lights. Inside, there was the deep bass that buzzed the soles of his feet even through his red, childhood shoes. The shoes were the only things he was permitted to keep.

He felt the night’s cool air on his bare hands where it leaked in from the mangled roof door. He rubbed his eyes again, hearing the disembodied voices whisper around him and tried to drown them out with muttering of his own. Despite his best effort to stave off the mounting panic attack, he could feel it crawling in the pit of his chest like some caged beast. When standing became too much, he went to go sit on a pile of nearby boxes and devise a plan to track Giran down with the time he had remaining. That was when a rustle of papers from the other side of the room caught his attention.

Izuku’s head whipped up and he froze, eyes locking onto the point of origin where the noise had come from. His mind was screaming to calm down, but his body was preparing for a fight. With his nerves so high, he was hyper aware of his surroundings and a part of him worried that he wouldn’t be able to act rationally should something attack. His heart was pumping with such fervor that he could feel it knocking around in his chest, loud in his ears and evident under his skin as the adrenaline began numbing the fatigue in his muscles.

“Paper,” Izuku told himself out loud as if to command his body to stand down. His head plopped down into his open palms as he relaxed just slightly. “It’s just f*cking paper blowing around because of the door you busted.” Izuku sighed and sat back down on the boxes.

“Damn, kid.” A male voice came from the same direction as the rustling of the papers. This time, Izuku shot to his feet in an instant, right hand immediately bringing fourth the weapon from his back at such speed that it snapped into its single duel-headed form menacingly. It glinted with the deadly colors coming through the windows. He lowered into an attack pose as his labored breathing grew to rival any noise in the large, echoey room.

“Whoa, calm down,” the gruff voice chuckled. Izuku’s eyes sifted through the dark, but whoever this was knew how to hide. “I thought you were supposed to be a hunter, not the prey,” the an toyed.

Izuku held his ground as the figure stepped into the dim light filtering through the busted door. Izuku’s pupils contracted and his muscles immediately stiffened, causing his knuckles to bleach with how tightly he was gripping his weapon.

Giran. It was Giran, his target, that stood in front of him. Izuku grit his teeth and fought with everything inside himself not to slice the man to pieces on the spot. The strong urge that compelled him to kill scared Izuku with how out of his control it was. He shook his head in an attempt to clear those bloodthirsty thoughts. When had he begun to think so violently? When had such an instinct to kill grown so strong, rotting away his reason?

While Izuku was obviously fighting the drool like a dog that had seen a rabbit, Giran looked relatively unimpressed. “Y’know,” he said, sounding utterly bored as he scratched at his gray stubble. “When I saw you at the doc’s lab, I thought you might hold potential.”

He waltzed closer to Izuku as if he couldn’t see just how much he was shaking with the effort to contain his own body. Izuku averted his eyes when Giran squatted so that the two were face to face, mere inches apart. Izuku could rip the other man’s throat out if he let himself go.

“But it seems that He has merely produced yet another dysfunctional prototype.” Giran grinned, breath smelling of smoke and booze.

Izuku froze. Had this all been a test? Was All for One watching him right now like he had during all those Nomu fights? Was this man going to report his failure? The moment of silence stretched on and Izuku redirected his thoughts towards a more rational path. No, he was sure that All for One wanted this man dead. And no man so self serving would ever risk his own life to test a worthless prototype. Still, here he was, testing Izuku’s resolve.

Izuku bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to taste blood, but it offered him a distraction from his blood lust long enough to stand up straight and toss his weapon aside. His eyes lingered on the scythe and he had to tear them away. “Do you have a minute to talk?” He said breathlessly.

Giran nodded, smirking as he gestured for Izuku to sit down.

Kagero Okuta, known as Giran to those he concerned himself with, hummed as he sat down on a particularly large box. Two, as the doctor had called him, was an anomaly indeed, but even stranger was the fact that Kagero was still alive. It seemed like his hunch was right that the doctor’s advertised mindless assassin was in fact still human.

Kagero grinned and crossed his arms. So what if the boy was obviously resisting his commands? The broker was intrigued and pushing his luck had gotten him this far, so he decided to take his chances. “Izuku Midoriya.” He all but purred.

The boy froze, eyes locking onto the loose white shirt underneath Kagero’s purple suit. For some odd reason, a shiver ran down his spine. He he ignored the sudden prickling of fear, yet still squirmed uncomfortably. Never dropping his nonchalant facade, he took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air.

“I did my digging after that night,” he continued. “That’s your real name, isn’t it?”

“I-” the boy stammered sounding pained. “I-I don’t know who that is.”

Kagero wasn’t buying it. And besides, he dealt in buying and selling information for a living, so he knew his sh*t. “That is your name. Don’t pretend to be-”

Before his eyes could even catch up, the boy had moved to reclaim the scythe he had tossed aside earlier. Now it curled protectively around him so that his electric-green eyes glared at Kagero from behind the front facing blade. The slight breeze from the silent movement sent shivers and goosebumps racing up his spine once again. Yes, Kagero knew this feeling. It was a fear that even a seasoned villain broker shook under. Had this been the doctor’s goal?

“Speak,” the boy growled, low and dangerous. He was frozen in place and backlit by the busted roof access door like some statue come-to-life. “Is this a test?”

Kagero signed, raising his arms in defeat and hoping the kid didn’t notice his shaking palms. Midoriya braced for a fight that Kagero wasn’t going to win nor try to win.

“Hey, kid,” he grumbled with the cigarette still tucked between his lips. “Listen, we can talk, but I need you to down the grim reaper for me, yeah?”

Another few seconds of quiet tension ensued, but the boy did eventually lower the scythe just when Kagero was beginning to think he was going to lose his head.

“Fine,” the younger bit, head fixed away from the broker. “Talk.”

“Okay, here’s how this is going to work.” Kagero said, missing tooth revealed as a crooked smile worked its way onto his face as he flicked the butt of his cigarette aside. It sparked and flickered out. When Kagero reached for a new cigarette and lighter, the boy visibly flinched and the broker raised both hands to calm the younger down.

“See,” he sighed, lighting up the new one and taking a deep inhale before continuing. “I give you some information, and you give me some. Deal?”

The boy studied Kagero for a minute before responding. “How will I know if you’re telling the truth?”

“How will I know if you are telling the truth?” Kagero blew smoke in Midoriya’s direction before rubbing his brow and looking out one of the large windows. Between the boards that blocked the street outside, colorful light floated in bars and rested in streaks on the floor.

“Listen, I don’t make deals with guys that beat me up first,” he glanced at the glinting scythe that had been set on the ground again, “and I most certainly do not deal to those lookin’ to murder my ass.”

He took a long draw of his cigarette before continuing. “That means, you and I are good.”

Midoriya’s head whipped up, but before he could say anything, Kagero added, “For now.”

The boy’s mouth fumbled, looking like a fish out of water as a searched for the right words. Kagero could tell he had a lot of questions – which was good because Kagero had plenty of his own – but for now at least, he’d have to focus on business interest.

“I can see that you are still tryin’ to formulate an answer, so I’ll begin.” The boy’s mouth snapped shut, making an audible ‘click’ as he gave a curt nod.

“Good, so let’s start with the most basic question,” Kagero sneered. “Why does the big guy want me dead?”

Midoriya visibly stiffened and his eyes flashed wild. “I-” He stammered. “They made it same like you were trying to undermine the operation. Perhaps it was to do with the nature of your business. Wait,” he stopped and looked up at Kagero. “You are a broker, right?”

Midoriya was giving Kagero serious whiplash. With his demeanor now, it felt like he was actually talking with a person and not a lab rat assassin.

“You see,” the boy continued, “I was under the impression that you had double-crossed Him, but perhaps you just know too much.”

Midoriya’s voice dropped low and even in the darkness, Kagero could see that glint of his green irises again. “But here’s what I think. You could’ve easily left when you saw me scouring this sh*t hole, but you didn’t. You could’ve avoided the fourth floor all together, but you didn’t. I’m untrained and unpracticed, yet here you are.”

Kagero hadn’t realized just how stiff he had grown until the ash from his cigarette broke free and landed in a filthy pile on the light-streaked floor. The broker coughed a laugh and opened his arms wide in an effort to conceal whatever fear was building inside his chest. “Oh? Have me figured out, do ya?”

Midoriya glared before continuing. “Villains – no, people – do everything in their power to save their own skins. Why come to death when you could’ve easily eluded it?” Izuku raised a finger and pointed it directly at Kagero as if to accentuate his point. “You need something from me, and my guess is that it has something to do with law enforcement.”

Okay, so Kagero was caught off by that one. “H-how did you-”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “You hold your smoke like you hold champagne, Giran. It’s best to move with the group rather than break away.”

The broker barked a laugh. “The Hell, kid? How do you even remember that!” Midoriya was obviously referring to the showcase event from a few months ago when certain members of the public were allowed to view the doctor’s creations.

“Anything out of the ordinary catches the eye, right? Isn’t that why you were there?”

Kagero laughed again without any trace of humor. There was no way he would tell the kid that he actually stayed behind because Midoriya’s broken gaze had reminded him of himself at that age. “Trust me, it was purely out of self interest. You were correct when you said that I’m a broker. We thrive off anything that’ll provide good profit.”

In less than a second, the scythe was again around Kagero’s neck. He choked as his eyes met those of the kid’s, much closer this time. He tried not to panic even as the cool metal pressed against his skin.

“Liar.” Midoriya growled. “The deal was information, not lies. People tell lies because they are protecting something.”

“I-” Kagero stuttered. He was actually beginning to regret his decision to mess with All for One’s toy.

“What are you protecting?” Midoriya – no, Two – hummed dangerously, venom lacing his words.

“Listen, kid,” Kagero whispered, acutely aware of just how thin the barrier of his scarf was against the blade. “The deal. We’re just talkin’, right? I won’t lie, so just hear me out.”

Two stayed stock still for seconds as if he were a viper reeling to strike, but he eventually backed down. He stepped back and lowered his blade slightly. “Speak.”

Giran had insisted on pulling a box up to act as a table, so now Izuku found himself sitting cross-legged on the floor facing the broker. He had begrudgingly set his scythe aside, but it was still at arms reach should he need it.

“Geeze, kid,” Giran groaned, flicking his cigarette and scratching the back of his head. “Do you always so serious and violent?”

Izuku studied the man’s worn face. He too had noticed a certain violent tendency that had come about recently and it scared him. He looked as his calloused that never seemed to heal despite his regenerative abilities. “I believe it has something to do with this, this thing I’ve become.”

“Ha?” Giran scoffed, catching Izuku off guard with the unexpected reaction. “So what if you’re a lab rat? You’re still you, kid.”

Izuku shook his head and leaned forwards. “No, I’m not.” He pulled up his sleeves to reveal the scars tracing the structure of his arm bones. “I’m too different to be the same person I was before. I mean, I was going to apply to become a hero before this, but now all I can think about is killing you just because that’s what my body is telling me to do.”

Giran leaned back and relaxed despite the situation. It baffled Izuku how the man was so calm in the company of the person who was supposed to kill him. The broker sighed and slammed his hand on the box, the cardboard boom making Izuku flinch.

“Alight, that’s enough,” Giran groaned, pointing at his hand on the box. “What do you see?”

He sounded almost bored. Izuku replied in much the same tone. “Your hand.”

“Yeah. And you know what?” He then pointed at his pointer finger. “This nail was ripped off two years ago by a gang.”

Izuku just stared at him with what he imagined to be a rather confused expression. “How does this pertain-”

“And here!” Giran opened his mouth to reveal a false tooth in the far back of his mouth. “Got this after my last one rotted out.”

Giran sat back and locked eyes with Izuku. “My point is, I’m still me even with different parts. Our bodies are always changin’, but that doesn’t mean we are different people just because we don’t look like the bodies we were born into.”

Izuku thought about that for a minute and an old story popped into his mind. “Are you referencing the Ship of Theseus?”.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” Giran grinned and lit up another cigarette. The dude was a serious chain smoker.

“So basically, what you’re saying is that, even though I have had many of my parts replaced, I’m still Izuku Midoriya?”

Giran merely shrugged, grunting as he breathed in his smoke. Izuku sat back an huffed a laugh. Why did he feel so light? Even though his identity crisis was far from solved, he did feel better. Izuku knew the feeling wouldn’t last when he returned, but it was a nice temporary relief. Even if his body kept changing, at least his mind stayed the same.

Then he thought about the voices and the violent thoughts and wasn’t so sure of that. Perhaps the doctor had found a way to replace his mind piece by piece.

“Hey, Giran,” Izuku asked more gently. “Can I ask you something?”

“Huh,” the man grunted. “Yeah, shoot.”

“Is there any way to pry up the boards in my brain and replace them? Because if there is, I’m not sure I’ll be me.”

Giran stared at him for a long time before he answered. “Hey, kid. If you’re worried about it, then I suggest you glue ‘em boards down with the strongest adhesive you can find.” Giran stood, red light catching the swirling smoke and carrying it into the the darkness of the room. “You’re with All for One now and that man is a monster. Be careful.”

Izuku scrambled to his feet as Grian turned away and began walking towards the exit. “W-wait!” Izuku called after him. Giran halted, but remained looking forwards. Izuku didn’t wait for a response. He had so, so many questions and they were all pushing themselves to the surface at once. “Do you know anything about my mom? Are the heroes coming? And what if I go back empty-handed?”

Giran flicked his cigarette. “I’ll be in touch.”

Izuku watched in shock as his target slipped out the door. The nerves in his chest twisted then and he gagged. His head pounded with the whispers he could hear in the walls at night that seemed to follow him like the plague. His target got away. He let him get away. Would All for One kill him?

‘No,’ Izuku thought, shaking his head and bracing himself on the wall. ‘Murder would be a mercy.’

He waited there for the better part of an hour before a portal opened and Kurogiri stepped through. “You’re not at the agreed rendezvous point.” He stated.

Izuku shook his head and locked his dull eyes on the ground. He had failed. He was useless. All for One and the doctor were going to torture him again. They’d pry his boards up until he couldn’t even remember his true name.

“Let’s go.” The mist man said, ushering him through with his clouded hands. Izuku walked in without a second thought, dragging his feet past eyes of yellow light curled in the slight breeze.

Chapter 22: Darkness Before Dawn

Chapter Text

Crack, crack, crack went Izuku’s head, his arms, his legs, his ribs; over and over like a rhythm on the cold concrete fl oor . He wheezed and couched up blood. Crack, his vision blurred. Crack. His e ars muted like cotton was filling them and he retched, gripping at wires that snaked across the floor like electric eels .

An invisible force knocked him down into his pool of puke, stomach acid burning the cuts in his skin. Izuku should’ve been sobbing, but he was oddly quiet. While it hurt to breath due to the various breaks, fractures, and internal bleeding he’d sustained from All for One, he was sure he could speak. Still, that crack, crack, cracking rendered him silent. Izuku just laid there, drowning in pain, yet somehow removed from it all. Like he was just experiencing a nightmare and it would all be over soon. A voice slithered into his ears and suggested he deserved the pain, that it was a long time coming and all actions he made were finally catching up with him. He was paying for his foolishness and mistakes.

Perhaps the worst part, his bod y prioritized healing and so the torture could continue until either his body gave up, or All for One did. After what felt like an eternity, All for One lowered his hand – he’d been using some sort of telekinesis quirk – and rested his chin on his fist.

Grinning, he finally spoke. “Two. You thought you deceived me.”

Izuku peeled his head up from the vomit, long ropes of coagulated blood tying him down. He groaned with the effort and was unable to prevent his head from dropping into the puddle of his own sick once more when he felt just how heavy it was .

“Twice,” All for One continued, bare teeth framed by melted lips curving up towards the heavens as if to taunt its existence. “I decided to give you as many strikes as your name suggests, but it seems you have run out of cushions.”

It took everything for Izuku not to pass out. In truth, he wished he could, but he wasn’t sure what All for One would do to his body if that were to happen. What kind of experiments would be preformed? He needed to make sure the man couldn’t reach his mother. As for Giran, he seemed like a good source, but Izuku didn’t like working with people that held all the cards. They always pried and nothing was ever entirely private if it was worth a profit. Perhaps being useless was better than being exploited for cash, yet Izuku found himself grappling with both as of late.

His eyes watered and spilled over, and his chest felt as if someone was trying to separate the left and right halves of his rib cage, prying it open and exposing it to the world. N o sound passed his lips despite the pain as if he were put on mute. Deep down, a sliver of himself hissed h e deserved this for thinking he could fool the overlord with half-baked tactics and hopes . Izuku was stupid. Useless. He was never good enough to outsmart someone as powerful and omnipotent as All for One.

“Confess.” All for One demanded, grinning as placed his chin in the palm of his propped hand.

“I-” Izuku croaked, eye lids sliding shut for a half second as he tried to push past the brain fog. “I spared the life of my mother…and Giran.”

There was a long, heavy beat of silence as he tired to ignore the fact All for One was probably waiting for something more. Just how much did the man know? Izuku’s mind began to spiral with paranoia. Had he been watching each step Izuku took? His every breath? Izuku reached up to tug at his hair, but his fingers were all crooked and his arm seemed to have an extra joint, so he let the numb limb drop.

“ I don’t know where they have my mother -” CRACK. Izuku’s head rang as pain exploded in his left leg where the femur had been snapped clean in half. He must’ve screamed because his throat hurt, but he couldn’t hear anything very well anymore. T ears filled his eyes. “Heroes. She’s with the heroes, but I don’t know where.”

The authorities would protect her. Besides, Izuku was sure that wasn’t new information for All for One.

All for One nodded, then paused, opened his mouth, and bellowed a laugh. It was an awful, putrid thing that turned the air rancid and plunged the room into an echoing mess like a pit of hysterical demons. Izuku’s head felt like a wine class at the mercy of an opera singer.

“WITH THE HEROES!” The man bellowed. Izuku had thought he’d already known. Had he been mistaken? Perhaps he was just messing with Izuku? A solid minute later, All for one caught his breath and exhaled. “My boy, that’ll be real troublesome for you.”

Izuku’s stomach dropped and he felt goose bumps rise over his skin. He wanted to ask why, but he couldn’t form the words on his lips and his jaw caged any attempt. All for One still wanted his mother killed as a display of Izuku’s loyalty and All for One’s power over people, so from his perspective, it would be harder to hunt her down. All for One liked the control.

“But first we will focus on your most recent mistake.” All for One offered a palm to which a hologram of Giran sprang up. “This man is speaking with the heroes. Kill him.”

Izuku gave a reluctant nod from his place on the floor. “And if he goes into hero protection?”

“Kill. Him.” All for One commanded, leaving no room for argument.

“Mother.” The man spat the words out after a minute of dead air. Izuku froze. “You called your first target, ‘mother.’”

Izuku choked. He hadn’t even realized that little slip-up . He internally cursed himself as he sputtered in his response. “ She – that woman – was my mother, but now she is not mine.” He bit his lip until he tasted blood. Then added, “I am reborn a-and I must do what is asked of me, master . ”

The man smirked at that. Izuku pushed himself to his knees, grimacing from how much his body ached and pained with the effort, and pressed his forehead to the ground in what looked like bow on the surface, but perhaps was closer to what wounded animals do when in pain.

Had he truly lost everything? No, his mother was safe and hopefully the heroes could take care of it. Then where did that leave Izuku? He was a villain now, working for perhaps the most malicious villain in Japan. Why should he be saved?

No one was coming to save him.

From the voices in the walls to the scars turning his skin into a quilt; from the body replacements to the torture; Izuku was broken. He would never be anyone’s hero, but merely a pawn. When he had his head pressed against the ground by the world, it was nearly impossible to lift it.

Maybe , Izuku thought, I should just…

Izuku spent a week in the rejuvenation tank as his broken body was encouraged to heal. This time, he was sentient and, left in his own head, began to detach from his body. It was as if his mind had been freed, exploring the great spirals of endless possibility. He thought of his mother, even about Bakugo. He hoped that Bakugo wasn’t too mean to whichever weakling replaced him. Oh! When were UA entrance exams again? He wondered if Bakugo was a hero yet.

He also thought about the other test subjects. They had been slowly disappearing from th ose tubes, so Izuku had thought that they were in the hospital. However none of the kids had actually mov ed into neighboring cells, so perhaps something went wrong. Then it had occurred to him…

All for One was keeping Izuku alive because he still needed him. The man must’ve had endless people working for him who were much more qualified, so terminating failed experiments would be logical. But here Izuku was, alive. Perhaps he was the only successful one. Izuku shivered. What set him apart, anyways? He wasn’t even special.

If Izuku wasn’t expendable, then he still had more time. He could push his luck just a little more.

When Izuku was removed from the lab tank, he spent the next expanse of time in All for One’s Mindscape. At first he woke up in the hospital and he thought he was saved. A hero, officer with a cat head, and man in a trench coat floated in almost robotically. (Izuku wasn’t very familiar with the police force, but he thought he saw the detective-looking guy on the news once.) The detective sat at the end of his bed and took off his hat, introducing himself as Detective Tsukauchi. His expression was grim. Everything was always grim.

Izuku found it weird that he didn’t introduce the others and they made no move to introduce themselves, but that was okay because Izuku already knew the hero Edgeshot. The only stranger now was the cat officer who stood on the other side of the bed. They weren’t looking at him and their expressions were blank as if they were puppets. It made Izuku fidget and bite down of his lips to keep them from muttering without his permission.

Izuku snuck a glance at the number five hero in all of japan, the ninja hero, standing right next to him. He was even cooler in person! Izuku could scream he was so excited. In fact, he felt tears running down his face. Was he truly safe now? Had the heroes found him? Had they raided the lab? And why couldn’t he remember how he got here?

Izuku’s smile dropped in realization. Oh…

“Two, did you hear me?” The detective asked, except it wasn’t the detective. It was All for One speaking with the detective’s voice.

His eyes burned with unshed tears and the sockets throbbed with a deep ache. He was always aching now. Best to just keep playing along.

“Answer the question,” the man before him said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edgeshot’s hand tighten into a fist.

Izuku gulped, trying to remember what the detective had asked, but found nothing . Perhaps he hadn’t even asked at all. “C-could you repeat?”

The detective merely sig h ed and nodded to the hero. Before Izuku knew it, Edgeshot used his Spiral Spear Hand and pierced Izuku right through the chest. Everything went dead silent and his ears began to ring. He wheezed and clutched at his chest, trying to cough up the blood filling up his lungs, but his chest wasn’t expanding properly. He couldn’t breath. Blood bubbled at the corners of his lips. His heart was beating too fast to focus and he was choking. Dying. He fell forwards into a pool of his own blood, grasping at the hospital’s sterile bed sheets. And then…

Izuku gasped so hard that he nearly choked on his own air. He felt his second lung reinflate and he breathed. He’d never before felt such a hunger, such a greed for air. His breathing was raspy, made only raspier after he brought up the copious amounts of blood mixed with stomach acid.

The detective gave him a look with tired, lifeless eyes. “Right then, let’s start again.”

I zuku lowered his head to his filthy palms , waiting for the next round of torture. He was right; there was never a question to be asked in the first place.

Chapter 23: Explosions and Smoke

Chapter Text

Katsuki raced towards the scream in his make-shift disguise of a black, sleeveless tanktop and black cargo pants. They bunched around his dark combat boots in deep valleys and high peaks . In order to avoid getting identified by the cops, he also wore a black kabuki mask with crimson highlights. The mask was attached to a black sleeve so that when he pulled the elastic fabric over his head, it concealed his hair.

He knew that the heroes would easily identify him based on his quirk, so he tried his best to remain anonymous by sticking to hand to hand combat. If UA found out about his vigilante behavior, it would likely disqualify his application because it was technically illegal to do hero work without a license.

Katsuki reached the woman just as a thief was attempting to snatch her purse. She was clinging to it for dear life as her friend lay on the ground, head bleeding from a small cut over her brow. Katsuki was about to intervene when the lady viciously dug into her bag and whipped out a bottle of pepper spray. A stream of bottled fury was unleashed directly into the man’s face. Upon contact, he immediately let go and clutched at his eyes, crying out in pain.

Then the woman yanked her bag back with something between pride and disgust , arm still extended towards her assailant should he come back. He wasn’t coming back for her, though; he was too busy wailing and clawing at his eyes as if they were melting. Perhaps it felt like they were.

Then her eyes locked onto Katsuki and he felt a shiver run down his spine. How had things flipped so quickly? He was about to ask if they wanted help when she leveled the pepper spray with his face.

When he realized he was her next target, he raised his hands up. “Whoa whoa whoa! Lady, I’m not here to f*ckin’ rob you.”

She scowled and it was obvious that she did not believe him. Slowly, Katsuki reached down and unzipped one of the side pockets in his cargo pants.

“Look,” he said, pulling out the small first aid kit and holding it up. “I can help her.” He nodded towards her friend with the bleeding brow.

After a long moment under her calculating glare, she sighed and dropped the projectile to her side. “Fine, but give me that sh*t. You deal with him.”

Katsuki glared at the man writhing in pain on the sidewalk before slipping a large ziptie out of another pocket. Then he carefully handed the kit over to the woman and made his way towards the man. Once he reached the villain, Katsuki had to pry the man’s hands away from where they very pressed deep into his eyes . He screamed when the air finally touched his eyes. The noise was so shrill, it just about busted Katsuki’s eardrums.

“SHUT UP!!!!” The blond shouted back, punching the the man hard enough to knock him unconscious. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bleeding girl finch. He felt only mildly bad as he restrained the villain.

He wasn’t out very long, but whatever quirk he had didn’t seem to matter much as he did not try to fight back. Instead, he merely curled in on himself and groaned. Distantly, Katsuki registered one of the girls on the phone; she was probably calling the authorities or an ambulance or some sh*t. Whatever it was, Katsuki needed to leave before he was caught.

Just as he turned to go however, a hand fell onto his shoulder. He stiffened and looked back to see the woman that had pepper sprayed the villain, a brow raised in question. She wore a tired smirk and pointed to a spot a little further away from the scene.

“Got a minute to chat?” She offered, voice rough from years of cigarettes that lingered like stale bread on her breath.

“Actually Lady,” Katsuki huffed, shrugging her hand off. “I’ve gotta get out of here before the cops show up.”

“Why?” She smiled and took one of his arms. He tried to struggle out again, but her grip was a vice. “I have a couple of questions.”

When Katsuki finally yanked his arm back, she was several steps ahead. Driven half by curiosity, he followed close behind until she stopped and slid down against the brick wall. She lit up a cigarette and offered him one. Even though she couldn’t see his face, there was no way she didn’t realize he was a minor, right? He was pretty sure she could sense the disgust under his mask.

She shrugged, retracting the offer. “Thought a hot head like you would like to blow a little smoke.”

“Don’t wanna destroy my lungs.” He snarled, crossing his arms.

“Alright, hero boy,” she laughed tiredly, smile lines creasing into her skin. She appeared young, but life had caked itself into her like the mud ceased between elephant skin. “I hope you’re not choosing that costume as your hero outfit.”

“Of course not!” He chided, voice climbing with a sudden, hot anger. She didn’t shrink back, but Katsuki still regretted raising his voice at her. Izuku had stopped shrinking back as well. People like them were just used to it, he supposed, but he hated himself for it.

“S-sorry,” Katsuki sputtered, glancing away. Shame replaced that anger; it seemed every step forwards he took, he’d take two steps back. The dance was infuriating. As a result, the two fell into an awkward silence. He could feel her eyes on him and it made him uncomfortable, as if this stranger were plotting something.

When he’d had enough, he decided to change the subject, desperate to take the point of interest off of himself. “So how did you learn to defend yourself like that?”

She smiled without joy, looking off across the street and blowing smoke. It swirled up into the air, creating dreamy shapes and figures disappearing into the starless night sky. “My quirk allows me to see the desires of those I touch.” She informed him, completely ignoring his question.

“Oh you f*ckin’ creep,” Katsuki grimaced, hand automatically going up to touch the place on his arm where she’d gripped him.

The woman coughed a laugh, smoke pouring out lazily like some sort of ancient dragon. “Relax, Mr. Virgin” - Katsuki sputtered, blushing - “I only want to talk about that boy.”

At first, Katsuki was frozen with shock, but it only took him a second to recover and cross the short distance between them. He slammed his fist into the brick beside her head, breathing hard as he glared through the eye slits of his mask. The woman seemed unphased and simply co*cked her head and took a drag.

She blew smoke into his face. “Behave yourself.” She smirked. “Take it from me, Fire Cracker. If you want something, then you gotta play along.”

“And what do you want.” Katsuki snarled, pushing back. She, however, caught him and yanked him close again.

“For you to get off these goddamn streets.”

Katsuki immediately pushed her off again, slamming his palms into her shoulders and taking several steps back. She watched him from a crouch, eyes almost reptilian. There was a long beat of silence and Katsuki thought he could hear sirens in the distance.

He was wasting time. Finally, he relented. “Fine! Ugh – what do you know?”

She tapped her cigarette, ash falling like gray snow. “One: You gotta learn some manners if you’re gonna be doin’ hero work.”

“f*ck you,” Katsuki huffed, shifting uncomfortably. The sirens were getting louder now.

“Huh,” she shrugged, glancing off as if she were toying with his impatience. “Guess you don’t wanna know about that white-hair boy.”

Katsuki stopped. He didn’t know any white-haired boys. Maybe all those cigarette’s had clogged up the hag’s quirk. Katsuki’s lip curled. “You got the wrong f*ckin’ guy.”

“You sure about that,” she grinned. “You called him Deku, right?”

Explosions detonated in the blond’s palms that weren’t entirely on purpose. Anger at the mention of the nickname and extreme guilt welled up inside of him. His face was twisted into something feral under him mask.

“The f*ck you know about it,” he snarled. The sound was low and rough in his tight throat.

She studied him, slowing blowing smoke out her nose. Katsuki really wanted to take that cigarette and slam it into her smug face. It was lucky for her that she answered him before he could do anything violent.

“Relax. I saw him three days ago at the Lucky club. Had a hood on and tramped around kinda like you.” She flicked her cigarette in his direction. “But I think he was hunting someone. Came ‘round a few time before heading back up.”

“Up? Up where?” Katsuki crossed his arms. And Izuku at a club? That was almost ridiculous.

“To the roof.” A man’s voice deadpanned from behind him. Katsuki spun around so quickly that he nearly lost his footing. There, standing two meters away and looking annoyed stood Eraser Head. When Katsuki tried to escape, Eraser Head easily caught the blond with his capture weapon before his feet ever left the ground.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me if you ever thought about doing something stupid?”

Katsuki barked a laugh. “No, you said call i f I ever find myself on some roof or sh*t.”

“Or assistance,” Eraser Head added, quirking an eyebrow. “But it appears you are on a roof this time.”

“Not yet!” Katsuki chided, squirming in the tight bindings. “Gonna go see that Lucky bar thing.”

“ It was metaphorical, dumbass,” Eraser Head grunted, shooting a glance towards the woman.

“Don’t look at me, Mr. Pro.” She grinned innocently. Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki watched her raise her hands up and shrug exaggeratedly, rolling her eyes as her cigarette hug loose from her mouth.

Eraser Head sighed. “You’re my broker, not his. You talk to me, leave kids out of it.”

“Awe, is Mr. Pro jealous?” She teased, leaning forwards and resting an elbow on her knee.

Katsuki watched as the two engage d in a stare-off like two feral cats. Since they were seemingly distracted, Katsuki tried his escape and began to subtly wriggle out of the bindings.

“Stop.” Eraser Head commanded, eyes never leaving the woman’s despite addressing the teen.

In the distance, the sound of sirens grew ever nearer and Katsuki grew ever more anxious. It wasn’t like he had actually done anything besides save a few people from f*ck faces over the last two weeks. Still, he had been caught by a pro hero, so did that mean this was going on his record? Sudden panic took hold. Was he not going to be able to apply to UA?

Eraser Head must’ve heard the emergency vehicles as well because he finally tore his eyes away from the supposed broker.

“He knows what you were gonna tell me?”

“Yeah,” she groaned as she pushed herself up on her thin legs. There was another long stretch of sirens. “What are you waiting for? Go.”

Eraser Head grit his teeth, but nodded begrudgingly. Then he gripped the tail ends of Katsuki’s bindings and began to drag him in the opposite direction of the scene.

“Ah, hold up!” Katsuki exclaimed, fighting like a catfish. “I can damn well walk on my f*ckin’ own!”

“No,” the pro sighed and continued to drag him off down the dark street. “ You’ll just fight more, so shut up and walk.”

Katsuki roared, anger flooding into his veins like venom. Just as they were almost out of earshot, the woman shouted something.

“HUH?” Katsuki spun around, ignoring the fact that the action only tangled him further. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING?”

“Take care of that boy you love!” She cheered. “That one with purple hair!”

Katsuki immediately blossomed a deeper red than anger could ever become. His jaw snapped shut and he turned back. He could feel Eraser Head’s curious eyes on him as he marched past the pro in silence.

“Let’s go,” he croaked, pulling the man like a sled dog.

He could hear him chuckle and follow reluctantly. Eventually, the pro joined him at his side . “ We need to talk.”

Katsuki was too embarrassed to deny the man and followed him back to his home.

Ordinarily, Shouta would never allow a kid of any kind anywhere near his house, but the police station was too dangerous. There were too many eyes and ears. At least here Shouta trusted his husband and cats to keep business confidential.

When they arrived at his door, Shouta turned to the Bakugo boy. “No sharing my location.”

Even through the mask, Shouta could hear the lip curl in his voice. “Why the f*ck would I?”

Shouta had to take a breath; he really hated middle school boys, especially sh*theads like this kid. “Just, keep it confidential.”

“You worried about spies,” the boy asked, co*cking his head. “Kinda creepy for an adult to show a kid his house. You lonely or some sh*t?”

“Well,” Shouta sighed bitterly, opening the door. “Glad you have more brains than stones piled up in there.”

He stepped inside before Bakugo could say anymore and flicked on the light. “And I’m not lonely. My husband is sleeping, so keep it down.” He glared as the boy stepped inside. Shouta shut the door behind him.

Bakugo stopped. “You got cats in here?”

Shouta studied the back of his covered head. He had released the boy from the bindings soon after they had stepped onto the property. “You can smell through that mask?”

The boy turned his head half over his shoulder and pointed a finger towards the coat rack. “Someone didn’t lint roll.”

“Oh,” Shouta sighed, loosening his capture weapon from around his neck. He was starting to get a headache. “You allergic?”

The boy just shrugged and glanced away, seemingly studying the house. “Thought a pro would live in something nicer.”

“Thought a kid would be nicer after not getting arrested.” There was a long beat of silence. Shouta sighed yet again.

Bakugo crossed his arms. “You sure sigh a lot.”

“It’s part of getting old, kid,” he groaned, push ing past Bakugo and enter ing the small kitchen. He opened the cabinet and removed two glasses, filling them with water from the fridge. Shouta himself would’ve preferred coffee, but he couldn’t muster the energy to operate the coffee machine.

“Here,” he said as he offered the glass up, but the boy made no effort to take it. Shouta just shrugged and walked over to the couch, setting the glasses on the small coffee table . Behind him, he heard Bakugo trailing in step.

“You’re not gonna punch me again, right?” Shouta half-teased.

This time, it was the kid’s turn to sigh. “No.” He flopped onto the couch.

Shouta sat in the armchair across from the couch and rubbed his eyes. The kid hadn’t taken any of his chintzy costume off, so he had to have been hot. What was his quirk again? Explosions?

“Hey, kid. You gonna change out of that or what.”

Something curious happened then; Bakugo stiffened and froze. The reaction was… concerning. Perhaps he was just shy? Shouta’s worried teacher, pro hero side decided to prod.

“What? Something you don’t want to share? I already know what you look like, so you don’t have to hide your face here.”

When Baku go made no effort to move, Shouta decided to pursue a different path. “Hey, listen. I’m sure you need a shower after being in that suit all night.” Then he glanced down at the dust and debris clearly visible Bakugo’s clothes.

“Plus,” he added. “I don’t think Hizashi will be too pleased with either of us if we dirty the furniture anymore.”

That, at least, elicited a reaction. The boy glanced down at his seat and huffed, “I don’t have a change of clothes.”

Shouta smirked; he could work with that. “I can loan you some clothes.”

“Great, old man stink.”

Well… at least it wasn’t a no? “Teenage stink is worse, problem child.”

“ Shou?” Hizashi’s groggy voice came from under a mountain of pillows. “Are you showing?”

Shouta smiled and joined his husband at his bedside. “Good morning, Loudmouth.”

The blond rolled over lazily, pillows shifting and a few falling off completely. Shouta reached out and delicately lifted the big and soft goose feather pillow. Hizashi whined and rubbed his eyes. “What time is it, Sho?”

Shouta removed the covering completely and stroked the hair that had come loose from his night bun. “One or two AM, I think.”

Hizashi’s eyes locked with Shouta’s and his brows furrowed. “You’re back so soon...” He quickly sat up and cupped both of Shouta’s cheeks with his hands. They were so warm from being under the bed sheets that the temperature difference was almost painful.

“ You’re not hurt, are you?” Hizashi exclaimed, voice still somewhat groggy as his eyes frantically searched the other’s body for any signs of disrepair. Shouta sighed and caught the blond’s hands in his own and coaxed him into lower ing them. Before he could get a word out, his husband’s attention was ensnared by the sound of the shower running in the other room. “Sho, are you taking a shower?”

Shouta grinned. “No, just found a stray. We’re gonna talk a bit before I send him home.”

Hizashi looked confused for a half second before he sighed. The poor man was used to this by now and just learned not to question it. “Fine, we’ll talk in the morning.”

Shouta nodded and tucked his husband back into his bed. Then he grabbed the spare change of clothes he’d fished out earlier from their drawer and closed the bedroom door quietly behind him, leaving a small crack for the cats.

Izuku quickly came to learn the name Shigaraki. The glorified man-child could disintegrate anything with the tips of his fingers. Izuku even found his past being temporarily erased during their time together. Shigaraki quickly found that he could use his disintegration quirk on Izuku so long as he didn’t erase the very foundation responsible for his regeneration. It made Izuku the perfect practice dummy.

One thing Shigaraki was not good at was hand-to-hand combat because he was blinded by the idea of creating openings to unleash his quirk. A reasonable strategy, but it left him valuable to opponents that could nullify his quirk or avoid it completely.

Izuku landed a rather brutal punch dead on and evaded Shigaraki’s wild hand that flew up in a desperate attempt to disintegrate, but if there was one thing Izuku was good at, it was dodging. Izuku pulled back just as fast and used the far wall to rebound. It was a strategy he’d adapted from old footage he’d seen of Gran Torino, and it worked perfectly for small, enclosed spaces like the training room.

His second strike also landed, but Shigaraki caught his arm this time. Like electricity to water, his quirk latched onto Izuku and peeled back skin and flesh, revealing metallic bone. Izuku yelped and yanked away. No matter how many times this had happened, it still felt as if his arm was being melted off. In a way, it was.

“Done already, Number Two?” Shigaraki taunted, reaching up to delve lines of crimson into his neck with short, chipped nails.

Izuku sighed, shook his head, and continued. If there was one thing Shigaraki was good for, it was helping him to forget everything and just fight, fight, fight.

Chapter 24: Rain

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s breath ing came out sharply and he wrinkled his nose, scrubbing at each cut and abrasion with soap. He even had to pick rocks out of one that was nearly scabbed over and the coagulated fluids with it protested . Katsuki watched in mute interest as it lazily ooz ed blood onto the pristine white tiles of the shower.

While his cargo pants and mask protected him when fighting, his arms were always completely exposed so as to leave room for his quirk. He tried not to use it, but sometimes it was necessary. He bit his tongue. Necessary. What even made something necessary?

His black tanktop was a full cotton kind, and his cargo pants were actually used for welding. If his quirk did go off, he didn’t want to melt synthetic fabric to his skin. Speaking of his skin… with all the hand-to-hand combat Katsuki had been doing, his body was beginning to turn completely purple, green, and red in some places where the molted bruises joined borders. It wasn’t even like his ass was getting handed to him, he just got hit by people who fought for a living.

Katsuki grimaced as he poked at one of the swollen areas and thought of Deku’s constant array of bruises. Had it felt like this for him, too?

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK . The sound came loud and insistent against the bathroom door.

“ What!” Katsuki yelled, annoyance masking his panic . It was a little louder than he meant it to be, but he didn’t care.

“I have your towel and clothes,” the tired voice came. “ I’ll leave them right outside the door.” Instead of leaving immediately, Katsuki could hear the other linger for a moment as if he had something important to say. “Just, hurry up,” he said eventually. Katsuki had the feeling that that wasn’t what he wanted to say, but the teen just shrugged it off for now and went back to picking at his scab .

Katsuki scrubbed the last of the conditioner out of his hair. It was some fancy stuff – probably for Mrs. Insomnia’s husband because he definitely did not look like he washed his hair as much as he should – so Katsuki made sure to use plenty of it. Then he felt bad, so he tried shoving the excess back into the bottle, but it went in so slowly that it just made him more angry. Growling, Katsuki chucked the rest onto the wall. It melted down with the persistence of a snail.

Katsuki stared at it for half a second before ripping the shower head off the wall and blasting it into oblivion.

Shouta sipped from his coffee mug and tired to ignore the feral cat in the shower. The kid was obviously going through it, which was understandable, but that didn’t excuse his aggressive behavior. Shouta recognized the signs of grief and, even if Bakugo denied it, the teen was in an angry stage of grief. Perhaps Shouta could try to redirect that anger towards something that kept the kid safe and off the streets. After all, the hero had lost a friend around that age as well. He looked into his mug, a dark reflection of himself swirling in the already dark liquid.

Just then, the bathroom door swung open suddenly to reveal the blond dressed in the his war garb: a black shirt with a kitten wearing corpse paint and the word “hiss” above it, and dark sweatpants. Shouta tried hard not to laugh as the blond glared him down, standing rather stiff and with his hair just beginning to rise into spikes.

Shouta nodded towards the armchair across the table from him. “Sit. Let’s talk.” He couldn’t help the snort as he watched Bakugo marched indignantly, but the humor of it ceased when he saw the extent of the bruises and cuts covering his skin. Shouta arched a brow and took a sip of coffee. “You look like you’ve been through war, Problem Child.”

Bakugo grunted and crossed his arms. “They’re self defense cuts.”

“...sure.” Shouta decided to disengage. He didn’t want to confirm if Bakugo was a vigilante because then he’d be forced to report him. He wasn’t here to indite a kid just because he thought it was the best way to help his friend. “Mind telling me what that woman told you?”

Bakugo studied him, sinking himself deeper into the chair. “Depends on what you have for me.”

Now it was Shouta’s turn to glare. Why were teenagers always so difficult? “That’s not how this works.” The pro scratched his head. Of course she would’ve made this hard; she really did see too much. Shouta didn’t like being the pawn in someone else’s game.

“Look, kid, I’m just going to go talk to her if you don’t answer me.”

Bakugo barked a laugh out at that. “Like she’s gonna tell you! If there’s one thing I learned from her in the first few minutes, it’s that she knows how to get what she wants.”

Shouta sighed, which was about as much agreeance he was willing to give. A smug smirk worked its way onto the blond’s mouth. “I knew you’d give in.”

“Don’t push it, Problem Child.” Maybe he should rethink his career choices to avoid teenagers at all costs. They really were scary. Shouta frowned; perhaps the world wasn’t doomed after all. With hotheads like Bakugo, at least the world wouldn’t freeze over. “What’s it that you want anyways?”

The blond hunched forwards and held up two fingers. “One: you let me see Deku’s mother,” he lowered a finger, “and two: you pair me up with Troll Hair.”

Shouta sat back and raised his brows. He had definitely not been expecting that second request. Bakugo did not strike him as a team guy, so “Why do you want to team up with our informant?”

Bakugo grinned. “I like teasing him and,” he sat up, “he’s doing the cool stuff.”

Shouta rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a game, kid. You could get yourself and others seriously hurt.” Although two would be better than one for safety reasons, his brain supplied.

“I know that, but it’s either you let me on under your supervision, or I continue to work without any.” Bakugo tipped his chin up and extended an open palm.

Shouta’s eyes lingered on the gesture for longer than they should, but he didn’t take the hand. He’d be damned if he let this kid run him over. “One thing before we make a deal.”

Bakugo dropped his hand and shrugged. “Whatever.”

Shouta grinned. “We right up a contract down at the station. You break the contract, and your vigilante career affects your chances at getting into a hero course.” Shouta took a sick satisfaction in the way Bakugo’s face contorted. “You offer us anything we want to know, and Shinso is your superior. That means you do anything he says.”

Bakugo’s nose wrinkled and he crossed his arm. To Shouta’s surprise, the kid actually agreed.

“Fine,” he said. “f*cking FINE. When do you want me at the station?”

“How about tomorrow night? Come in after your school’s out.” That’s right, this was a school night for the both of them. Shouta groaned and rubbed his brow. He was going to need about a million more cups of coffee. “I might not be there, but Detective Tsukauchi will be.”

“That generic looking dude?”

Shouta hated that he actually understood that description. The poor detective was as basic looking as they came. “Yeah, but I promise he’s much more interesting when you get to know him.”

Bakugo looked out the window, lost in something he couldn’t see. Shouta wondered what was going through his head.

Izuku squatted on a rooftop, glaring at the evening traffic. The height was dizzying, but that had never bothered him even before he became whatever he was. It was proof that he at least he still held a fragment of his old self, something he’d have to remember for what he was about to do.

Unfortunately for Izuku, All for One wouldn’t just let him off as a two hit wonder – two hit failure. ‘You need practice. Real practice,’ he’d said to Izuku before he was teleported out here. ‘Enough with these petty flies you’ve been swatting. It’s time to slaughter some rats.’ Said rats were likely people that failed All for One’s tests. Perhaps they were like Giran and were part of the party that came to see the doctor’s abominations. Whatever the case, they were going to die. At least it was better than this torture.

Izuku flinched as the ghostly voices swarmed his ears, howling, sobbing. Izuku felt like crying too, but his tear ducts had dried up at some point. Only the rain ran coolly down his face. In an attempt to drown out the phantom screams, he clutched his hood just a bit tighter around his ears.

“Shut up,” he muttered, wishing that someone would hear him. That someone would ask why he was out here and why he was covered in scars – why he was talking to thin air – but no one came. It was fine and he was used to it by now. After realizing just how powerful Shigaraki and All for One were, it would be better for them to stay away. Izuku was a walking plague. Being forgotten and overlooked came with being quirkless and it was the best option for passing information along. But he wasn’t quirkless anymore nor could he inform the heroes without informing the villains.

As awful as the choice was, he couldn’t endure another torture session. He needed time and so he traded lives for it.

Izuku shook his head and jumped down from the five story building. When he hit the ground, he tucked and rolled, only feeling the impact once he stood. He’d definitely broken a few bones. It hurt all over and he didn’t care because it would heal quickly. There were some people that gave him concerned glances, but once he seemed alright, they just went about their business. There were tired businessmen in suits towing briefcases and women clutching purses. They gave him weary glances as they moved around him as if he were Moses parting the sea. That was the thing about people; they’d show concern until there wasn’t a pressing issue, then go on with their lives as if nothing happened at all. Not one of them stopped because Izuku was not worth their time. He was dirty and dangerous, so people were keen to keep their distance. With his flicking eyes almost completely covered by curly white locks and torn clothes, he was sure he looked more than a little suspicious and villainous.

Izuku limped down the sidewalk as his bones cracked back into place and skin trauma healed. A jump from a five story building onto concrete would normally kill a person, especially one as short as Izuku. However his body just refused to die. Even when he broke the mirror in his room and tried to slit his wrists, the deep gashes just healed in record time as if to mock his efforts. Curiously enough, there were scars. There were always scares if the cuts were deep enough, which alluded to an acceleration in healing rather than a restoration of the body. He wondered what would happen should one of his limbs be severed.

Izuku shook his head. It didn’t matter because the underlying factor was that he would have to destroy his whole body all at once in order to die. Perhaps he could piss off the hero Endeavor. Maybe he’d use his signature Flashfire Fist or Prominence Burn on him! Then Izuku shook his head again, instant embarrassment coloring his face. No, of course he wouldn’t meet the number two hero, let alone fight him. Izuku wasn’t important or strong enough to be noticed. He shrugged. Plus, there were more dangerous villains that needed to be stopped, so Izuku wasn’t going to distract the flame hero from his duties.

Perhaps his targets had promising attacks? Where was he anyways? Perhaps Izuku should’ve been more careful at staying hidden and sneaking up on his targets, but what was the point. No one ever paid him any mind. A smile that never reached his eyes these days touched his lips.

“I should just get this over with,” he heard himself mutter. Wait… had he been muttering this whole time? Maybe that’s why everyone was avoiding his proximity and crossing the street. Someone was laughing, but it was quiet and creepy. Izuku raised his fingers to reach his lips. Oh, he’d been the one laughing.

Izuku forced his mouth closed and turned down one ally, then another until he found the place where he’d been instructed to go. Sure enough, his first target was there. The man was easily recognizable because he was missing an eye. He was doing some sort of deal with someone else. Izuku wasn’t going to kill the other because he wasn’t a target, but the buyer raised his hand to attack Izuku once the assassin stumbled into sight.

A laser quickly shot past Izuku’s ear. The missed shot made Izuku laugh because it was just his luck to be careless and unharmed. Izuku shot forwards immediately, drawing his scythe. The broker’s quirk was a weak mental quirk, so the only dangerous one it seemed was the client. Izuku used his momentum to draw his scythe in a semi arch motion as he flew between the two. When he landed on the other end of the ally, the two were already clutching at their throats. Izuku turned around just as they collapsed. Their eyes rolled up into their heads as they breathed in their own blood.

Izuku watched them until they had stilled. Everything was still and he felt the weight of the world pressing down on him. And yet oddly enough, he felt nothing at all. It began raining and Izuku watched the blood swirl into puddles of muddy blood. Black mud.

Despite being emotionally removed from it all, his body was shaking. His muscles weren’t responding and his heart was beating fast. Then he was dry heaving.

When he caught his breath, he began laughing. He threw his head up towards the gray sky and unleashed unhinged laughter. The rain soaked his face and made his hair stick in mats to his face. Eventually, he stumbled out of the ally and off to the next location.

Chapter 25: Sunset

Chapter Text

Five. He had taken five human lives tonight and he couldn’t seem to care. He was detached, floating somewhere above as if he were but an observer to another’s nightmare. Why didn’t he care? He was shaking as he stumbled into the alley behind the bar, the last location of the night. Maybe she would be gone already? Statistically, she’d be here because everyone else was where All for One said they’d be, but he still had a flicker of hope.

The flicker was blown out when he saw his target sitting outside, smoking a cigarette. Her knees propped her arm up as she looked off in thought. Izuku knew that look.

“So he finally figured it out,” she said. Izuku stopped dead in his tracks, surprised she’d seen him in the deep shadows of the alley. That was the only way she could’ve detected him; his footfalls were deathly, after all.

“I thought your quirk only worked after you’ve touched someone,” Izuku hummed, voice raw from the rain and unuse as he stepped into the light.

She offered him a considering look. “Doesn’t take a quirk to see what you’re here for.”

Izuku looked down at himself and registered how the blood had soaked deep into his hoodie despite the rain earlier. His clothes were heavy and cold, yet the blood burned his skin like acid. His flat expression met her bemused one.

“Plus,” she chuckled humorlessly, raising her hands in surrender. “I know I’m guilty as charged.”

Izuku took a step and bit the inside of his cheek. It felt as if she were baiting him with information like a slab of meat held above a dog.

“But you should know,” she lowered a hand to her mouth to take a drag of her cigarette before continuing. “Your friend is worried about you.”

Izuku fully stopped at that, more than a little confused. “My… What?” It had to have been a trick, some effort to buy time. She had to be lying because Izuku didn’t have any friends. Not before All for One and not after. He pointed his scythe at her and laughed. “Liar.”

She just smirked and lowered her hands.

Okay, Izuku’s interests were officially peaked. This was his target, but what was the harm in indulging her for just a few minutes? He’d probably regret it later because it was harder to kill when there was an attachment, but he wasn’t attached to even himself.

Or maybe he just wanted to know that he wasn’t alone, that he had a friend and they actually cared about him. Somewhere in the back of mind, a little voice hastened a trick, a ploy to save her life by humanizing herself. Izuku felt sick. Was it so long ago that he wanted to be a hero? He was having trouble remembering that hope now.

“I met him not a long time back. A week or two maybe?” She tipped her nose up to the sky, exposing her neck. Izuku could almost see the jugular vein pumping without any cares to its exposure; he tried not to look at it. “He’s standoffish and aggressive, but he’s very worried about you.” She gave him a once over. “And I think I should be too.”

Izuku wrinkled his nose, feeling tears prickle at the edges of his eyes. Who was this woman to care about someone like him? A quirkless, pathetic, useless, disgusting murderer. A filthy kid who was just sucking up to All for One. Why was Izuku even working for that man? His mother was safe he presumed, and he couldn’t give much of a sh*t about Giran’s well being. So what was he even doing this for.

Izuku was selfish. He wanted to die, but didn’t want to feel pain anymore. He bought numbness by inflicting pain on others.

“I don’t need nor do I want your pity,” he spat. Izuku barely recognized the tone in his own voice. When had he started sounding so… mean? Perhaps it was always there, it just decided to dominate him now that his sanity was venerable.

The broker chuckled, then coughed with the effort. Mild concern washed over Izuku when she struggled to catch her breath, but she raised a hand to wave it away. “I’m fine,” she wheezed. “Don’t try smoking, kid.”

“Don’t think it would make a difference on this body anyways,” he shrugged.

She looked up at him through sandy eyelashes. “You’re lucky.”

“I don’t plan on smoking.”

“Yeah, and I don’t plan on giving a minor my cigarette,” she deadpanned.

Then something funny happened. Izuku smiled. Really smiled and a small noise left his lips. He stopped, pressing fingers to his lips. Once he realized what the noise was – laughter – he locked eyes with the woman’s smug ones. His smile dropped, but the warm feeling lingered.

“You called him Kacchan when you were younger,” she said. Izuku froze under her words. Kacchan. His first friend. The person that hated him most. “He was a chintzy vigilante for a while, but I think he linked up with another broker recently.”

Izuku shook his head to snap himself out of his stupor. The voices began to hum around his head like buzzing insects. Like hungry mosquitoes. He tried to slap them away, but that just angered them and they turned into a horde of wasps. They were roaring now.

“SHUT UP,” he screamed at the invisible plague, clawing at his ears in a futile attempt. His brain was itchy. Had the insects crawled inside? He told himself that it wasn’t real, but it felt so real. Maybe he was in All for One’s Mindscape again. He let out a single laugh, then another and another until he fell into a fit of hysteria.

“Jesus, Kid,” the voice of a man came from behind him. Izuku whipped around, scythe already extended, eyes surely wild. He was aware that he probably looked half-crazed (probably more than half) but he didn’t care. The voices were swarming, knotting tight around his head. The hero stepped closer and into the light, black hair floating and eyes crimson with his quirk.

Those soothing hands at the back of his mind from the dampening quirk All for One had placed within him crept in, so the hero was likely using some kind of mental quirk. Wait, didn’t he know this hero? Izuku squinted and tried to think past the voices.

With his opposite hand, Izuku banged his palm against his temple to clear some of the brain fog. All he could f*cking think of was Kacchan, murderer, All for One, torture. Izuku wheezed at the memory of how it felt when both his lungs collapsed under Edgeshot’s quirk. No, that wasn’t really Edgeshot…

“Kid?”

Izuku’s head snapped up. He was feral. Hell, he was practically rabid. Why was this man creeping closer? Wait… It was dark, but the hero looked like an underground hero…

“Eraserhead?” Izuku blurted, finding the voices to settle slightly. Were they as awestruck as Izuku? Eraserhead… Yes, he was sure that was him now! (How embarrassing it would’ve been if he wasn’t.)

Eraserhead’s eyes widened and he looked a bit surprised. “You know who I am, kid?”

Izuku grinned, truly grinned! Hadn’t he forgotten how to do that?

“Of course!” Izuku cried, relaxing a little. “Your quirk is Erasure. You can nullify other quirks, right?” Then he remembered and pointed to himself. “Oh, but it won’t work on me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh I-” Izuku cut himself off, eyes snapping up to the hero. Hero. Right, heroes saved innocent people. Izuku was suddenly acutely aware of blood staining his clothes, his skin, his very soul. No, he most definitely wasn’t innocent. The voices stirred, seemed to stoop over him and grip his scythe with their icy claws.

Eraserhead must’ve noticed Izuku’s change in demeanor because he gripped his capture weapon a little tighter. Izuku followed the motion acutely.

“Kid, I’m going to need you to take a breath.” Eraserhead spoke softly. Gently, even, as if he were trying to calm a scared animal. Izuku might’ve fallen for it, but the heroes eyes suddenly flicked up to something past his shoulder and the voices in Izuku’s head reared.

The instinct to survive was a strong one, yet it was often a messy thing. In the blink of an eye, Izuku had whirled around, bringing with him his scythe. In his haste, he had momentarily forgotten about the pro who’s capture weapon caught the deadly swing a millisecond before it had connected with his target’s face.

Everything stilled. Izuku was breathing hard, eyes locked on his target. She too was struggling to breath, but she was choking on air rather than her own blood thanks to Eraserhead. He stood firm, using all of his strength to hold Izuku back. He grunted from the effort when Izuku tugged.

The teen wrinkled his nose when he noticed the small syringe and needle held in her right hand. There was a viscous liquid in it, likely a tranquilizer or poison. Images of the doctor and his array of liquids he injected Izuku with raced through his entire body like unseen fire. Gritting his teeth, he dropped his scarf-bound weapon and dipped low to the ground, allowing the sudden change in tension to send Eraserhead reeling backwards.

The teen spun on his heels and flew forwards, pushing his enhanced body harder than he ever had with the training Nomu as his mind went straight into attack mode. The hero was the most dangerous, so he’d have to deal with him first and foremost. Gripping the hero’s head, he flung in face first into the concrete.

Before the hero could recover, Izuku used the tight walls of the ally to rebound the same way he did on the walls of the training room. This time he snatched up his weapon, twirling it to capture the pro’s own weapon like a fork with spaghetti. Eraserhead was amazing, but his weakness was his lack of a physical ability. He compensated for it with hand-to-hand combat and his capture weapon, but that could easily be turned against him should a person use his own weapon against him.

Izuku rebounded off the opposite wall and flew behind the broker, then in front, then behind again. Eraserhead was just pushing himself up when Izuku flew at him again and repeated the same wrapping process as before. Eraserhead, at least, seemed less awestruck than the woman and made a grab for a knife at his side. He’d probably been tangled like this before and was hoping to cut himself free. Izuku didn’t let him, though, and kicked the device away as he zoomed past.

Finally, he used his momentum to jump between the two sides of the ally, effectively scaling the structure. When he reached the rooftop, he pulled the lines up and around a large metal peg. He felt the weight of the bodies as they were hoisted higher and higher against the wall. And then…

Izuku stopped. The lines were substantially lighter. He quickly tied it off and went to go look over the edge of the building. Before he could reach the edge, though, a voice came from behind him.

“Damn, Izuku Midoriya,” Eraserhead laughed, half crazed and probably more than a little concussed. Izuku whipped around to see him, blood oozing from beneath his wild, black hair. “Haven’t had my ass beat that far into my grave in a long time.”

“H-how do you know my name?” Izuku croaked, fingers brushing against the knife at his side.

“I’ve been sent here to capture you,” the hero deadpanned. “And I’m sorry about the broker. She didn’t mean to spook you with the needle. I’ll talk to her about it later, so lets just head into the station where you’ll be safe.”

Izuku froze, memories of fake interrogations All for One conducted causing his head to spin and his heart to race. It was then that he fully understood the imprint the villain’s mind games had left on him.

He didn’t want to be interrogated by the heroes, and he didn’t want to be forced to murder for All for One. He’d rather be dead.

In that moment, Izuku had never been so sure about something in his life. Time seemed to slow down as his fingers closed around the handle of his knife, drawing it across his own neck in one deep pull. Eraserhead’s eyes widened as Izuku began to fall backwards. This time, the hero was not fast enough to stop the weapon of destruction: gravity.

Curiously, Izuku didn’t even feel the gash before his head exploded across the concrete, painting a crimson portrait. He supposed his blood had erased the blood staining his clothes for everything was much darker now. It was all dark… Was this death? The voices were finally gone.

Chapter 26: Awake

Chapter Text

Shouta watched in stunned disbelief as Midoriya leaned backwards off the building. The gash on his neck looked deep, too deep, as if it could’ve severed his head completely had his spine not been there. And then he was falling, and Shouta was reaching, reaching and grasping at air. Time had seemed to slow everything except the boy’s decent. He was still reaching when the sickening combination of something between a pop and a crack echoed through the ally. He caught himself on the ledge as time resumed, the whiplash giving him motion sickness.

“Eraser,” the broker’s voice came, slow and wavering. Shouta blinked hard a few times as if it would clear all the blood from the street below, the proof of his failures. Movement drew his attention away and he found she was still hanging suspended by his capture weapon off the side of the building. She was looking up at him with wide, wild eyes such as those taken up by the offender in an accident. He sucked in a breath and cursed; an attempt to calm his shaking. He’d seen plenty of suicides, but this one felt different – everything they had done over the last couple months - just to end up like this. His cheeks were even wet…

Sirens erupted as an ambulance pulled up too late to a hopeless scene trailed by police. f*ck.

Shouta called down to the first responders that huddled under the broker while Shouta will his body back to the metal peg on the roof where Midoriya had secured the capture weapon. Midoriya’s own weapon – some kind of scythe resembling that of the Grimm Reaper – caught the ribbons and prevented them from moving. It took Shouta what felt like forever to undo the rat’s nest, but he eventually was able to do it.

“Ready to lower?” Shouta shouted before he undid the last of the ties.

“Ready!” He received back, the voice nearly lost over the evening traffic. He was still trembling, yet he was able to lower her. When the line finally went slack, he cut the bindings and freed the kid’s weapon. Even though it had rained, there was still faint blotches of blood over the metal surface. Did blood truly ever wash off, or did it just permeate into the soul until one’s vision took on a crimson hue?

Shouta ground his teeth as he made his way back down to street level and found the detective whom was talking with their broker. She sat in the back of the ambulance smoking a cigarette, shock blanket tossed somewhere behind her. When she saw him approaching, she removed the cigarette and tapped the ash over the detective’s tiny notebook.

“Hey-” he protested before she cut him off.

“My hero, Mr. Pro,” she deadpanned, then nodded towards where Shouta knew the kid’s corpse lay, broken body obscured by a pale sheet. Had he’d been moved to a body bag yet?

Shouta had seen the aftermath of enough suicides. He knew what it did to the body.

“You push him?” She tapped the ash off her cigarette, yet by the way it quivered like wind-blown snow, he figured it was an effort to cover her trembling. Shouta watched it somehow stain the damp street darker.

“Of course not,” he spat, venom tasting like bile on his tongue. The smell of rain-dampened blood like iron hit his nose and he fought the press of liquid at the base of his throat. He clenched his jaw and wrinkled his nose.

They glared at each other until Tsukauchi sighed and left the broker’s side. He took Shouta’s shoulder and gently guided him away from the putrid smell of smoke and blood. They stopped in fron of the closed bar.

“Shouta,” the detective started, sounding steadfast as he sat on one of the steps. “I know you’re frustrated-”

“Frustrated?” Distantly he realized that he was whisper-shouting. “That woman f*cking triggered him. She really was going to try to inject him with a tranquilizer or some sh*t. He saw it – and Christ he’s probably seen enough needles based on the intel – and it was like a switch flipped. And then, then-” he memory of how close the boy was to the edge – Shouta was definitely crying now. He looked at his pale hand that hand futilely reached towards the kid. “Then he was gone.”

Tsukauchi settled him with tired, sympathetic eyes. “I’m sure she was just doing what she thought was best in the moment-”

“ALL our hard work to save this kid,” he tugged at his messy black hair. He was shouting now. “He was our best lead!” And I could’ve saved him, he didn’t say.

“We have other leads.” Both Shouta and the detective knew that that was a lie. The only team that was remotely close was Bakugo and Shinso, but Shouta wanted them as far from the truth at possible. No more lives should be lost, especially not at the cost of law enforcement’s missteps.

Shouta set his eyes on something far away from the flashing emergency lights. Would the news stations be coming soon with their blinding lights and reporters that spoke with forked tongues? But the reporters didn’t come and instead the space was filled with a solemness that sunk deeper than the icy rain. Eventually, the detective sighed and got up. He placed his hand on the hero’s shoulder and look somewhere past him.

“I know this is the undesirable outcome,” he spoke quietly. “But now, at least, we can bring his mother some form of closure.”

The detective walked back towards the scene. Shouta watched him go, clenching and unclenching his fists. It was her fault… but it was also his. If only Shouta had been more reactive. Faster. Smarter. His blame was misplaced, but he’d be the last to admit it even if everyone knew.

Darkness infected the world like a candle gone out. Without the lick of flames, it was so unbelievably cold. Was this death? The darkness and chill seemed to penetrate into the deepest parts of his bones. Izuku shivered. He had believed death to mean a lack of suffering, so this must be Hell.

Of course he deserved that, punishment for all the pain and suffering he caused. He couldn’t explain the flicker of relief lit within him and the darkness that surrounded it. Suffocated it. A desperate laugh burst from his lips, seeming to echo in the small space. Wait, small space?

Izuku kicked his legs and shifted uncomfortably. Even without sight, he could tell he was entombed within a plastic material not unlike a heavy-duty garbage bag. His heels hit metal. Bang, bang, bang came the hollow protest of metal every time his foot thrust down upon it. When he tried to sit up, he banged his head on the low ceiling. Another laugh , this time more desperate, slipped from his lips as he clawed at the bag trapping him inside. He couldn’t breath.

The material finally caught under his stubby nails and he tore a hole open the size of his head. He t hank ed his super strength for that one. Frigid air poured in that numb ed his lungs as I zuku’s quickening breaths used up the supply faster than he’d anticipated. His muscles burned and exhaustion quickly nestled within them . With one final push of effort, Izuku braced his arms above his head and kicked his feet against the wall touching his toes as hard as he could.

A loud bang sounded, but he barely noticed over his panic and the lack of oxygen. Dim light poured in as his feet burst through the metal, slicing the bag in the process as his feet and legs were exposed. Hot blood spilled out over his skin and onto the metal, leaving behind trails of tingling warmth. The cuts were quick to heal up and Izuku to catch his breath.

“f*ck,” he gasped, relaxing now that the issue of breathing was resolved. His heart was beating quick enough to hear in the quiet space, so he definitely wasn’t dead. Wait, was he back at the lab? Izuku’s breathing suddenly quickened again and he tore at the bag and kicked at the metal some more.

Where was he? Out of the small window he made for himself, he saw a metal table and medical tools. It was the same one All for One and the doctor interrogated him on, so he was back at the lab. He kicked harder, only registering briefly that swing of a door and panicked voices outside his confines. The voices neared about with a scuffle of footsteps, and then the floor he was laying on was sliding out towards the light. There was suddenly so much light. It was pouring in, flooding his sight and rendering him blind. Too much. People were yelling. It was too much.

Like a feral cat caught, Izuku tore his bag to shreds as soon as his arms were free of the tight confines of his prison. In his haste, he slipped off the table and crashed into the chemical clean floor and it wafted upwards to invade his lungs. When hands reached for him big and gloved, he struggled away and bolted for the nearest exit. One of the swinging doors caved under his weight, but Izuku didn’t stop, only briefly registering the trail of blood following him. When had he lost his shoes?

The hallways were narrow, desolate, but he recognized this place immediately as the doctor’s hospital. He’d never been to this part, but the dimmed lights and shut doors and that sickening chemical smell so palpable reminded him to keep running. He knew this place and it was Hell. Perhaps he was dead after all.

Or was All for One finally disposing of him?

Was this one of All for One’s mindscape illusions?

Izuku turned left and toppled another door. He was dizzy and shaking, but his body just kept telling him to run. To get far away from here. Be faster. Escape.

There was shouting from somewhere down the hall, but he didn’t look look back; He just kept running. Left, right, left, straight. Should he hide? No, he needed to keep moving or they’d find him. Should he jump out a window? Wait.

Izuku halted. Window? There were no windows in the doctor’s hospital ward. So that meant this really was an illusion. There truly was no escape. Izuku’s breath hitched a s he studied the window and darkness beyond, listening to the fleet of footsteps closing in on him. How many times would he have to repeat this? In what ways would they torture him this time?

Izuku stepped closer to the window. Then he was running at it. He tripped, but scrambled up. There were voices behind him, shouting, their feet hurrying. Louder.

Izuku choked back a scream as he flew towards the glass.

He hit the floor as the weight of another body tackled him. Izuku struggled once, twice, then went limp under the weight. Something about it was comforting; he’d almost forgotten what the hug of another person felt like. He was still in his green, ratty hoodie and torn jeans. There was so much blood – he didn’t even who’s blood anymore – on the garments that it was itchy. Sticky. Filthy . He’d never be clean again, yet he surrendered to this comfort .

“Shh, kid,” someone was saying. He vaguely recognized the consoling voice.

Someone was crying… was Izuku crying? He felt dizzy, but the warm weight against his icy body made the exhaustion so much worse.

“You’re okay now.” Someone was running their fingers through his blood-stained hair. “You’re safe.”

Oh, what a cruel trick this was. All for One truly was evil. At least for now, though, perhaps Izuku could pretend he was safe.

When Izuku awoke this time, he thankfully found himself in a much more recognizable place, yet unwanted all the same. He was in the hospital room like all those times before. Izuku knew the drill by now: Hospital room, interrogation, torture, repeat. He shifted uncomfortably, the restraints rubbing his skin raw in places, only minutely registering the dull throb from where the IV’s tube-like fang sat buried in his arm. Izuku tugged again, heart beat quickening. Those were new. New was bad because he had no idea what to expect from All for One.

His heart rate monitor sped up, the noise making his head buzz. He tried to distract himself so that it wouldn’t alert anyone he was awake. He knew this was a simulation, but many of the same principals applied here and thus if he wasn’t a problem, people wouldn’t come in until absolutely necessary.

Despite his change into a hospital gown, he couldn’t shake the smell of blood tarnished him like a stain on fabric. Would he never be washed clean again? Perhaps he didn’t want to be…

He let his eyes linger on the cracks in the ceiling since he was unable to sit up due to the restraints, anticipating the coming pain from an interrogation not yet started. The detective would come in with an officer and some kind of hero. Maybe it would be All Might this time? Then he cringed at the thought, remembering dimly how the man had told him he could never become a hero. He supposed he was right…

Shifting fabric sounded from the left side of Izuku’s bed, wrenching him from his thoughts. He studied the odd swaddle of plushy yellow fabric, but was unable to decipher it.

“Huh?” The noise left Izuku’s lips before he could stop himself. He instantly regretted the action for the anomaly responded, stirring, folding, and twisting in on itself. Izuku stiffened and held his breath as if he could take it back.

The head of the overgrown caterpillar slowly turned towards Izuku, reveling the face of a sleep-deprived man with what looked to be a jelly packet hanging haphazardly from his bottom lip. Izuku just gawked from where he lay, neck turned a full 90 degrees to display what surely had to be a stupid face stuck somewhere between surprise and confusion. When the initial shock wore off, he looked a little harder. Wait, didn’t he know this man?

“Eraser Head?” Izuku squeaked. Another stretch of silence befell them as said hero wiggled an arm up to the sleeping bag’s zipper and pulled it down from the inside. Then he sucked the jelly packet dry, the vacuum causing the bag to wrinkle and collapse in on itself.

“How did you know who I was?” The man deadpanned through the oral obstruction.

Oh, so the interrogation would be from a hero this time. Something about that made Izuku want to curl in on himself. He was so tired of this endless cycle. He turned his head to look back up at the ceiling, disassociating before the pain came. It was easier that way.

“You were one of the heroes I researched as a kid,” he stated almost robotically. “I wrote about you in one of my notebooks.”

He waited for the pain, but it never came. What was All for One doing? This certainly wasn’t their usual mental training. Perhaps he too had grown bored of the endless cycle.

“I know,” the man said instead. “I read them.”

Wait… how did All for One know about his notebooks? Did he have access to police evidence? Izuku had suspected he had laid strings within law enforcement based on how detailed the information on his targets was. How else would he know exactly where his targets that just so happened to also be police informants were. Of course could always use a quirk, but why bother when one could pull puppet strings. There wasn’t anything that was off limits to that man.

“I didn’t write anything about you or the doctor or the nurse in there.” Then he thought about the notebook he kept in the lab. “Oh, except for the one in my room. I think it’s behind the broken mirror. Oh! Sorry about the mirror, but you probably already knew about that. Anyways there’s broken glass on the floor and you probably can’t read it very well since I wrote it in the dark, not that you would…” Izuku trailed off.

“Kid,” Eraser Head reached for his should, but Izuku flinched and the hero pulled away. “Who are you talking to?”

Wait, was that not the response All for One was looking for? Izuku carefully combed through the words Eraser Head had said, but turned up empty. What was he looking for? Perhaps he should just go with the safe answer.

“ T he Erasure Hero: Eraser Head,” he repeated, drawing from his memory the articles he’d read while researching the man all those years ago.

“No, kid,” the hero interrupted , a tinge of worry on his words. “ Who are you talking about?”

Izuku finally looked at the man and was taken aback and the worry creasing his skin. Why was All for One taking this sympathetic approach? Perhaps he was really trying to break Izuku this time.

Oh, Izuku wasn’t playing along, that why.

“Um, you.”

“That’s a lie,” another man’s voice came from the doorway. Izuku froze; he knew that voice very well by now. His eyes rolled down to the foot of his bed and locked with those of Detective Tsukauchi. This time, however, he did not bring another officer with him.

Izuku understood then. The hero was supposed to bring him hope, but together they’d tear him down. Izuku wished he could disappear; he was so very tired. His heart monitor was the most lively thing in that room and it burst into a rapid beeping fit.

The two adults exchanged glances as the detective pulled a chair up to Izuku’s bedside. Izuku flinched as hands reached for his head, but they just undid the restraint there and the one on his chest so he could sit up. Then the hands were gone and Izuku followed Eraser Head’s retreat dumbly. He sat up, feeling heavy and sick. sh*t, he was going to be sick–

Izuku’s head spun and his stomach sloshed up his his throat. He gagged once, then he was puking stomach acid and what looked like specs of blood onto his pale linens. The detective’ s eyes widened as Eraser rushed to pat Izuku’s back. When Izuku had finished making a mess of yet another thing – though he guessed it didn’t matter because this was just All for One’s mindscape – he straightened and wiped his mouth on his shoulder. He was breathing hard, but at least he felt a little better.

The hand on his back lingered for a half second too long, enough time to realize Eraser’s palm rested upon that hideous metal the doctor installed as a spinal reinforcement. Izuku stiffened and the hand was quickly retracted. Why were they being so nice to him?

“So when is it going to start?”

They looked at him and then exchanged a wordless confusion. It was the detective that spoke. “Sorry?”

“T-the torture,” he choked, hated that ever persistent stutter of nerves . He gripped the filthy sheet until his knuckles turned white. He wrinkled his nose and glared at those sullied sheets. “I know how this ends, sir. Please give me a new scenario. I want to do this again.”

“Kid...” Eraser Head tried, but Izuku ignored him. He wasn’t real. None of it ever was.

Izuku looked at the blank walls as the voices that followed him like the plague hissed behind his ears. “ Master!” He was yelling now. “Master, please .” Tears leaked out between sobs. “No more. I can’t do this anymore. Just kill me.”

Perhaps if he confessed that he actually retained his memories, then All for One would release him from this miserable existence. He shivered at the alternative should his memories be erased or if he was dismembered to form a mindless Nomu. Would he become training meat for another failed experiment? Or maybe they’d put parts of him in other kids. Would they be tortured by these f*cking voices too?

When nothing happened, Izuku flopped backwards onto his bed, feeling filthy as his vomit seeped into his sheets and rolled off the sides onto the floor. Perhaps he was made to torture himself this time. If so, then he was doing a fine job of it.

After a long time in silence, it was Eraser Head that spoke up. “Hey, Midoriya.” Izuku’s eyes shot towards him at the mention of his own name. “You’re not in a simulation, kid. This is reality. You’re in the hospital , you’re far away from whoever this ‘master’ is.”

Izuku studied him with narrowed eyes. Was All for One trying to test his resolve by coaxing the answer out of him with a good cop bad cop approach? Instead of addressing the hero, he looked at Detective Tsukauchi, a constant in these scenarios. If this was reality, then had All for One predicted this? Why this scenario?

“Detective,” Izuku said, sitting up again. “How many times have we met now?”

The lines on the man’s face deepened, but he answered quickly. “Alive? This is our first time. I saw your corpse, though.”

Corpse? Oh, right. The memory of his attempt pushed itself into his head and he had to shake it to clear the tendrils of darkness out. He really was useless; no many how many ways he tried, he never succeed. It was a curse more than it was a blessing at this point.

Izuku contemplated the possibility for a second that this actually was reality. How would he even test if it was? He could ask facts about the two, but All for One might know or make up the answers, so that was out. Then it would have to be someone who couldn’t be easily impersonated and Izuku knew almost everything about.

“Kacchan!” Izuku blurted, a small, hopeful smile curling the corners of his lips.

“Sorry?” The detective rasped, brows lowering.

“He’s Midoriya’s childhood… acquaintance,” Eraser filled in, giving Izuku a careful glance. Izuku studied the hero’s face. Did he know his and Bakugo’s sensitive history? That broker woman had said she’d met him, so maybe he actually did care for Izuku. Then his eyes dulled with the memory of his the last day at school before his life changed. How Bakugo and his lackeys cornered him on the roof and thew his notebook into the fountain. How the last decade mirrored this single event. No, Bakugo didn’t give a sh*t about him. The broker was just trying to catch him off guard.

“Wait, no. Nevermind,” he sighed.

“ I think if you saw him again,” Eraser said, fixing him with a quizzical look that perplexed Izuku, “you’ll find he’s trying to turn a new leaf. Whether he admits it or not, you’ve got him worried so much that he’s teamed up with that boy from the warehouse incident to find you and the other kids.”

No, that couldn’t be right. Bakugo only cared about himself…

“Purple hair?” He found himself asking, guilt washing in like full tide. Then he found panic swell and his eyes burned. “No, NO. They can’t go close!” Izuku was nearly screaming now.

“Calm down, kid.” Eraser kneeled in front of him. “Why shouldn’t they go near.”

“Because,” Izuku choked. “He’s making monsters out of people. Out of quirked people. And-” He felt his heartbeat quicken. Suddenly, it was Bakugo’s melted, contorted face on a twisted creature oozing tar-like blood and smelling of rot. The voices in his head seemed to swell hungerly as if they were drooling for another soul. Izuku was already heavy enough.

This time it was the detective that spoke. “I know, but we need to know the gravity of the situation in order to keep them safe. Are there others like you?”

Izuku met his gaze with wild eyes, thinking back to the kids in the lab, then the empty cells. He thought they’d just been in the hospital ward longer than he had, but then there was the way All for One treated him. How the embodiment of evil had spared him after his betrayal. He wasn’t doing it to be nice, he was doing it because Izuku was the only one left.

“No, I,” he tired, trailing off. “I don’t think any of them survived. That’s why I’m still alive. I’m pretty sure I’m his only working chimera.”

“Chimera?”

Izuku looked hard at the two men standing beside his bed. He was growing more and more convinced that this was reality, but even if it wasn’t, he didn’t care anymore. And so he told his story, beginning with the day he disappeared.

Chapter 27: Witnesses

Chapter Text

“Whatever, Troll Hair,” Katsuki growled, but a twinge of humor lingered in his tone that he knew wouldn’t go unnoticed. While they’d been growing closer recently, there was still a sort of indivisible wall between them that Katsuki liked to chip away at, so to speak. “I still get dibs on the next one.”

Shinso merely rolled his eyes and pressed his lips into a thin line, turning the corner onto a narrow street lined with shop venues. They were arguing about who would be taking the lead when talking to brokers, but Katsuki’s rough nature often landed him on the sidelines because Shinso didn’t like the ‘bad cop’ approach. Shinso reasoned that the brokers were willing participants seeking morality, but Katsuki wagered they were the same self serving villains he’d always know, they just knew how to hide it behind official contracts and contacts. It was a power position to have connections with the law, yet it did paint a target on one’s back and Katsuki wondered how often brokers were killed in hero-villain disputes.

They arrived at the small toy shop shortly, ducking under the small protruding canape just as the rain was beginning to piss down upon them. Katsuki eyed it nervously; if anything happened, his quirk would be useless. Katsuki wrinkled his nose at the sky, then spread his palm open to study how the water carried away his sweat in roll after roll down to the street to mix with mud and filth…

Katsuki blinked, watching the water mix with something else – something darker than the earth and patterned in a strip. Huh. Had someone spilled paint or something? Katsuki crouched to take a closer look when an updraft wafted the sent sharp and metallic into his nostrils. They flared at the horrifically-recognizable scent of blood.

The blond’s head flew up just in time to see Shinso’s worried eyes meet his own from the entrance. Disengage at even the slightest hint of conflict – that had been the deal, but both boys ignored those order in that moment and hurried to follow the trail of blood before the rain could wash the path away.

“f*ck,” Katsuki grit his teeth, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “You think they found out about the investigation?”

Shinso merely shrugged, eyes fixed on the fading trail as they jogged alongside it. Vaguely, a voice in Katsuki’s head urged them to slow down, to understand exactly what they were walking – or rather running – into. He tried to ignore the voice of reason the best he could because he doubted he could get Shinso to stop and like Hell he was going to let him do this alone. Even if the rain put him at a huge disadvantage, he could still support with hand-to-hand.

Shinso stopped suddenly and Katsuki stumbled in his attempt to evade a collision.

“What the hell was that for?!!” Katsuki shouted over the rain. It was a full on down pour now.

Shinso pointed at the ground. “Lost it!” He shouted back.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, feeling partly relieved that they’d find the corpse without the killer near it when the rain cleared. That is, until a flash of silver caught his eyes. Katsuki’s instincts took over and he flung an arm out, pressing both Shinso and himself to the dark ally’s wall. Shinso seemed to catch on and shut his mouth, squinting through the sheets of water to make out the dark figure. Luckily, Katsuki hadn’t thought the figure had seen them yet and he wanted to keep it that way.

The shadow was short and held what looked to be a staff crowned by a hooked sword. They were looking at the sky, swaying unsteadily as a tree in a windstorm and Katsuki thought he might’ve caught the slight tremble of the lips like frantic muttering. The minuscule movement caught Katsuki off guard because it excavated memories of Izuku. The soft muttering while he was taking notes, or the way he’d talk to himself when he thought he was alone. A heaviness rolled through him the longer he looked and noticed more and more similarities. Perhaps he was just seeing what he wanted to be true in this stranger, but he couldn’t shake the insatiable urge to call out. In fact it was the firm press of Shinso’s hand against where his own arm pinned the other boy’s abdomen that kept him grounded and from doing something so reckless. Perhaps Shinso saw something could not.

Not a second later, the figure jolted on his heels as if they were a marionette that had had its strings yanked, staggering out of the ally and leaving behind the crumpled corpse of a man. After several more minutes of standing stalk still, Katsuki remembered his arm and removed it from where it pinned Shinso. Then together they walked over to the body and, on closer inspection, they confirmed that it was in fact the corpse of their broker.

“f*ck,” Katsuki huffed, trying not to look at the man’s clouding eyes and protruding tongue dripping thickly with blood-like-syrup so crimson it was almost black. It was the gash across his neck however that really drew in attention; it was deep enough to nearly decapitate the man. The corpse was laying on its stomach, head twisted obtuse with the chin resting upon the shoulder blade so that the face was fully exposed to the world. He wasn’t staged, it was just luck that he happened to die like that. Luck, huh. The concept was foul like the taste of rotten milk or the smell of bloody soil saturated with rain.

Shinso took several breaths beside him, obviously fighting nausea as well. Katsuki watched the blood as it oozed its way out of the man’s neck, mixing with rain to form a gelatinous ocean. One quick glance over at his partner and he knew they were drowning in it.

“C’mon,” Katsuki choked, turning away and heading back towards the main street. When Shinso didn’t comply, Katsuki had to physically tear the other boy away. “Let’s go.” The blond said more urgently, the tone almost commanding as he gripped the other’s wrist. His arm went limp in the hold, but his body didn’t move. “Shinso, COME ON.” His voice was shaking, yet still managing not to break.

The arm was immediately yanked from his grasp and Shinso turned on him, tears threatening in the corners of his eyes. Katsuki has never seen him so… so rattled. It reminded him of green hair and emerald eyes and all the pain in regret.

“No, we can’t just leave him,” Shinso cried, voice breaking. And, oh, Katsuki saw those tears fall. He hated that look, wanting nothing more than to smooth out those tempered wrinkles with his useless hands. Katsuki’s face also felt wet, but he blamed it on the rain.

“We aren’t,” he tried, reaching a trembling hand into his pocket for his phone. He hated how badly he was shaking; heroes were supposed to be brave. “I’m calling Aizawa.”

Shinso nodded, but refused to leave the corpse’s side like a stone sentry standing watch. Katsuki wasn’t in the mood to argue (not that anything he could say would convince him anyways,) so he ducked under the nearest head cover to escape the worst of the rain. At least this way, his phone wouldn’t get ruined before he could even place the call.

The buzz of the call didn’t even get through a full cycle before it was picked up. “What’s wrong?”

The immediate concern in the hero’s voice was something Katsuki would’ve teased him about had he not been on the verge of a panic attack.

“There’s,” Katsuki tried, hearing and hating the way his voice broke. He tried again. “The broker’s been murdered.”

Silence. Then, “ I’m coming.”

“No,” Katsuki quickly protested, trying to collect his scattered thoughts and think rationally for once. He needed to think like Izuku. “I think he’s hitting multiple brokers tonight.”

“Who’s ‘he’?”

“The murderer. ”

“You saw him?”

“Yes.”

Sigh . “ Alright. Brokers have a lot of enemies, though. Why do you think he’ll strike again tonight?”

Katsuki shuttered at the memory of how the villain’s lips muttered. The shape of their hair and his height. He knew that kid.

“I-I think it was Izuku.”

Another stretch of silence. “Kid, I just got a call about another murder – one of our brokers – I think this one happened earlier. Can you tell me what killed yours?”

The blond’s eyes lingered on Shinso and how his eyes remained fixed on the nearly-severed head. “Partial decapitation by some sort of hooked sword-thing.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“About what?”

“Chain killing. A purge, so to say. ” The words sat heavy in the air. “ I’m going to call Tsukauchi and see if we can get ahead of him. Do you need help?”

Katsuki studied Shinso. With his rigid, shaking body and fixed stare, he resembled an old building about to collapse under an earthquake.

“I-I think I can handle it. Where should we meet?”

“I’m not sure yet. For now, go to the police station just in case your names are on Midoriya’s hit list.”

Even though Aizawa couldn’t see it, Katsuki nodded grimly. He wanted to ague, to say that Deku would remember him, b ut after seeing the unsettling way his body yanked itself into action, he wasn’t completely sure it was him anymore. Was that All Might idolizing, hero fanboy, muttering freak truly gone? Tear spilled out over his eyes. Deku was so weak.

“Alright, I’m hanging up,” he heard from the other end. “But we’re talking about this when all this sh*t gets sorted out. Its too early in your careers to be exposed to a brutalized corpse of someone you met.”

A part of Katsuki did agree, but he pushed it down because he could handle this. Yeah, he could do this. “It’s fine, not like I haven’t seen a dead guy before on TV. And, yeah, we can talk about how it makes us feel like little girls at a tea party later.”

He didn’t know why he was suddenly so angry. He was strong, so why were people worrying about him. He shouldn’t have to flaunt his emotions, airing them out like dirty laundry for the neighbors to see. He hated being put on display and forced to talk about something that made him vulnerable. So weak. Exposed. Katsuki was strong.

“I’ll see you boys later. Please get back save,” the hero groaned, tired of Katsuki’s sh*t and this whole situation. The blond was tired of it as well. “Send me a message when you arrive safe.”

“Okay, bye.” Katsuki pulled the phone away from his ear and moved his finger to the ‘end call’ button at the bottom before he heard the muted words coming out of his speaker.

“What,” he said, raising it back to his ear.

“Oh, I just said to remember it’s okay to be scared. Don’t push Shinso away, instead talk about this with him.”

Katsuki wrinkled his nose and ended the call.

Chapter 28: Morning Light

Chapter Text

They waited for three hours at the police station before leaving a half hour into their fourth one. It was just pasted midnight, but neither of them were even remotely tired having still been rattled. So much had happened that they knew little to nothing about. Plus, Katsuki couldn’t get the smell of blood and rot out of his nose; he smelled it at every sharp inhale, every breath drawn with a little too much mind. They had both showered and changed clothes at the station, but the stench seemed to stick to him like flies on meat. Worst of all, neither Katuski nor Shinso had spoken a word to each other. It wasn’t like they were angry with one another; it was more like a coping quiet.

Katsuki looked up into the black sky blurred by street lights. It had stopped raining at some point, but Katsuki almost wished it hadn’t; not even a million showers would wash him clean of what he had seen. He shook his head and snuck a look at his partner. Shinso had his hands shoved so far into his pockets that he was slightly hunched from the angled effort. His eyes were trained on the sidewalk.

Everything about his posture indicated he wasn’t okay, but the blond didn’t know how he could help. Katsuki wasn’t great when it came to such pathos and wished someone was here to talk to his partner, someone more qualified. Aizawa’s words danced circles around his crown, singing about how he should ‘talk about his feeling’ as if to summon it out of him. He swatted at his brow in annoyance and focused on the present issue of getting home. Where did Shinso live again? Had Katsuki ever asked?

“Um,” he started, the sound feeling awkward as it left his lips. “Want me to walk you home?”

Shinso was quiet for a minute, his gait the only indication he’d heard Katsuki as it stuttered and resumed again. “No,” he muttered.

“Why?”

“Because the trains are closed.”

“You live far?”

“Not really.”

This time it was Katsuki that stopped and turned on his heal. “Why don’t you want me to walk you home?”

Shinso stopped as well, but he still wasn’t making eye contact. “Because it’s not necessary.”

“I,” Katsuki tried, biting his tongue to keep his voice low in the quiet night. “The f*ck it isn’t necessary, we shouldn’t be separated right now.”

“What about you?” Shinso pried, sounding standoffish now. “Then you’d be alone going back.”

“I can take care of myself.” Katsuki huffed, realizing too late how that sounded.

“And I can’t?” Shinso almost growled, glaring at the cold cement with a hollowness Katsuki hadn’t seen before. “Just because my quirk isn’t flashy like yours doesn't mean I’m useless!”

Katsuki blinked. Why did that remind him so much of the nerd? The blond took a breath and tried to steady himself. He didn’t need to ruin another friendship. “Look, do you want to just stay over at my place? Then neither of us have to be alone tonight.” The words came out before the entire weight sunk in. Had Katsuki seriously just invited Shinso over for a trauma slumber party? He was about to play it off as a joke until:

“Yeah.” Shinso’s voice was small and soft, a harsh contrast to what it had been a minute prior. “Yeah, I think I’d like that, you dumb blond.”

Katsuki smirked, feeling a slight flutter in his stomach as he slung an arm around Shinso’s shoulders. He even thought he might’ve caught a slight pinkness on Shinso’s pronounced cheekbones as they passed under a streetlight, but he couldn’t be sure.

When they’d arrived at Bakugo’s place (it was huge!) they promptly climbed the stairs and snuck into his room, silently closing the door behind them. Hitoshi thought briefly of brushing his teeth, but the weight of the day had settled deep into his bones where laying down was the only thing he could think about. Besides, he didn’t want to wake the Bakugo’s parents; that would be just about one of the worst ways to meet them. ‘Hello! Your son and I just witnessed a brutal murder by the person we’ve been trying to save for months! Don’t mind me as I just sleep over because I don’t want to go back to my foster home right now! Hahaha!’

Yeah no, so Hitoshi just kicked off his shoes at the door and followed Bakugo as silently as possible. Even in the dark, he could tell that the blond’s room was plain: a desk with notebooks and a laptop, a bed, a closet door, and a bedside table with a lamp.

“I can take the floor,” Hitoshi whispered quickly, settling down to remove his jeans. He could sleep in a shirt and boxers, but he hated how pants pinched him. Looking up, he found Bakugo doing much of the same.

“No,” he grunted, yanking his leg out from the inverted cuff. “My bed’s big enough.”

Hitoshi blushed hard not for the first time that night, thankful that the lights had been turned off. Seriously, how was Bakugo so oblivious to the implications of how that sounded? Or maybe he just didn’t feel the same way as Hitoshi did.

Shame washed over him as he shed his pants and shirt which were still damp from the rain. He would’ve liked a change of cloths, but he most definitely would not ask the blond for his because that would just be… weird. Yeah, Hitoshi would be a creep for asking the guy that made him unbelievably hot for his cloths. That was the kind of thing friends and lovers did, and Hitoshi knew Bakugo didn’t see him as either. There were just using each other to find Midoriya and the other quirkless children.

Hitoshi followed somewhat stiffly after Bakugo into his bed. The earlier events paired with the rain had left his skin chilled, icy even, and he tried to rub warmth back into his skin.

“f*ck, you’re cold,” Bakugo hissed as he helped Hitoshi scoot over to the far side of the bed before climbing in after him. Hitoshi said nothing as the two settled. The bed had definitely looked big enough, but now that he was actually in it, he realized that their arms were only inches apart. f*ck.

“Damn, it’s like sleeping with an ice cube,” the blond commented dryly. Even though he was whispering, it sounded so loud in the room.

“Well,” Hitoshi said bitterly, “I do have a heart of ice.”

There was a long silence, but just as Hitoshi thought he’d given it up, the blond rolled over onto his side to face Hitoshi.

“C’mere,” he grumbled, voice low and rough. Laying on his back, he made it a point to stay still and not give in because Bakugo was clad down to his boxers as well and it would be weird. Hitoshi was busy chastising himself when the blond pulled him onto his side against him. Hitoshi made a weird noise when his frigid skin made contact with Bakugo’s, almost burning his own with the heat in a pleasant way. Hitoshi sighed into the crux of the blond’s neck, taking in the smell of rain and explosive sweat, the comfortable heat that wrapped around and held him tight, chest to chest. The contact made his heart flutter and his insides squirm.

“K-katsuki,” he tried, the word sounding so foreign and so right on his tongue.

“Troll Hair,” the blond answered softly, running a hand through his purple locks, making him shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.

Bakugo held him in comfortable silence for a while just stroking his hair and letting his breath brush gently over Hitoshi’s face. Hitoshi would’ve liked to drift off to sleep like that, but then Bakugo had taken a breath, sounding uncomfortable. Oh no, was Hitoshi making him uncomfortable? With a blush, he realized just how closely their bodies were flushed together…

“Hey,” the blond croaked. “About today...”

Relief and dread flooded into his veins and he clung to Bakugo rather than scooting back to see his expression. It was dark anyways, so he probably wouldn’t see much.

“I want to ask you a few questions… and I can answer yours… but, uh…” he took a breath to seemingly organize his thoughts. “Look, Aizawa said we should talk about what happened, so… I guess-”

“Can’t we just sleep?” Hitoshi croaked, trying to push the images of that man’s corpse from his memory. The cold crept in again . Hitoshi most certainly did not want to talk about feelings right now and with Bakugo of all people.

“ Could you sleep?”

Hitoshi answered with silence, instead moving closer into Katsuki. If he was being honest, he felt guilty about being exhausted after everything that happened. He could never sleep, yet now he could? After witnessing a murder? He was disgusted with himself.

“ Look, I know this isn’t the outcome either of us wanted, but we should at least talk about this later.”

Hitoshi nodded, the image of the man’s contorted neck and all the blood caused Hitoshi’s breath to come out sharp. Then there was the murderer.

“Was that Midoriya?” He blurted, hearing Bakugo sigh above him.

“Y-yeah. I think so.”

There was wetness on Hitoshi’s cheeks now and he shuddered. “W-why.”

“I don’t know,” Bakugo breathed above him. “But we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

A hand landed heavy on his head and continued its ministrations.

“That was my first time ever seeing a dead body,” Hitoshi blurted into the silence. The movement in his hair stuttered, then continued.

“Me to.”

And with that, Hitoshi closed his eyes and fell asleep faster than he ever could alone.

Katsuki opened his eyes to morning light illuminating his curtains with gold. He felt movement under his arm and when he crooked his next to see the boy nestled there, heat spread across his cheeks. His body ached from being in the same position for hours, but he’d rather die than move. The skin to skin contact was almost too much, but Shinso was still asleep, so he resisted the urge to adjust. The soft air from the other boy’s breaths tickled his bare chest and he huffed a laugh. He laid there for about another hour before the muscle aching grew unbearable.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Wake up, sleeping beauty. We’ve got sh*t to do.”

Shinso jolted upright, looking like a completely confused mess. His messy hair framed his wide eyes and he was breathing hard. Eventually he caught his breath and his lilac eyes darted down to Katsuki. He studied him, a nice red working its way onto his pale, pronounced cheekbones. For reasons he couldn’t completely explain, it made the blond’s stomach to swoop.

“Huh,” he breathed, the noise competently involuntary. They broke eye contact and Katsuki felt his face heat up more than usual. He cleared his throat “U-um. I have clothes-”

Shinso’s looked down at himself and nearly jumped over Katsuki to get out of bed.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, flailing as Shinso got tangled up in the blankets and toppled out of bed in a heap, dragging Katsuki down with him.

“F-f*ck.” He huffed once the world stopped spinning long enough for him to get his barrings. They were tangled up pretty good – bound by the blanket – but Katsuki thought he was probably laying on Shinso. With a grunt, Katsuki pushed himself to his feet and sifted through the fabric until he found a hand and yanked it upwards. Shinso was limp, but Katsuki knew he was alive because he groaned.

“Get you’re ass up!” Katsuki groaned back and was able to pull Shinso out about halfway before he lost his balance and fell forwards onto his knees. The other boy’s back hit the side of Katsuki’s bed as Katsuki braced himself on either side of his head. They stared at each other, both wide eyed and humidly breathing before the blond sat back. With him now on full display, Katsuki saw exactly what Shinso had been trying to hide.

There were scars blanketing him on his chest, trailing the veins of his neck, and on his wrists of which were the most fresh. They trialed up and down like angry railroad ties. Something wicked twisted in Katsuki’s chest, knocking the wind out of him.

When Shinso realized that he saw, his arms snapped to covered himself. Katsuki caught his palms in his own and pinned them on either side of his head loose enough to brake free if he really wanted to. He studied the marks for a long time as Shinso stopped struggling and just looked off at a distant spot on the wall.

When Katsuki spoke, it was soft, his voice shaking slightly. He asked the first question that came to him because, dammit, he needed to hear him say it. “Did you do this? To yourself, I mean.”

Shinso was quiet for a long time. When he showed no sign of answering, Katsuki gripped his chin and coaxed his head to face him. He still wouldn’t look at Katsuki.

“Hey, look at me,” he choked, finding a wetness on his cheeks. “Please.”

Shinso’s eyes lazily climbed their way up to Katsuki’s, but when they met, there was nothing but a hollow, empty gaze like a man already dead. Like the man’s from last night. And then Katsuki was doing something he would’ve never done with anyone. Perhaps he would’ve never done it if not for that day on the beach with Shinso, their banter, his annoying quirk, the way they cuddled, how broken he looked right now. He adjusted his grip of the hand he still held so that their fingers intertwined. Katsuki didn’t care that Shinso’s fingers were limp in his grasp as he wrapped his free hand around the other boy, leaning completely into hug him. He let his head rest in the crook of his shoulder and held him tight.

A half sob left Shinso’s lips, followed by Katsuki’s own quiet ones. He grin his teeth. Eventually, Shinso raised his own arm and laid it across Katsuki’s lower back. The inside of it brushed gently against the blond’s skin. Katsuki was now acutely aware of the horizontal scabs and raised flesh on his shredded forearm. His chest rubbed against the random array of scars layering Shinso’s own.

“The ones o-on my chest are from other people,” he whispered when he caught his breath again. “ A-and the ones on my wrists” - he was clinging to Katsuki now - “those are the result of the other scars.”

“W-why?” Katsuki choked as if squeezing him closer could somehow fix everything. He felt Shinso shrug.

“It’s hard to see yourself as a hero when everyone thinks you’re a villain. Easier to just give up.”

Katsuki stilled. Had he done that to Izuku? The image of him standing in the rain beside the corpse of the man he had just murdered and muttering to the heavens as the blood dripped from his small body flooded his head. Was Izuku covered in scars before he left that day? Scars dealt by Katsuki’s hand? All of the times he’d pushed Izuku into walls, unleashing his quirk. How Izuku had staggered away and his lackeys would trail him like starving hyenas.

A sudden urge to push Shinso away overtook Katsuki . How could Katsuki sit here and comfort a boy who was broken by people like Katsuki? He decided not to push him back completely, but he did pull back a few inches to look at Shinso’s face .

Squeezing his hand tighter, the blond met eyes with Shinso’s lilac ones and the contact was so intense he wondered if he’d ever be able to look away.

“Are they new? The cuts .” Katsuki acknowledged the elephant in the room , already knowing the answer because the ones on his wrists definitely were if the inflamed flesh and soft scabs were anything to go by.

“Y-yeah,” Shinso choked, eyes darting somewhere behind Katsuki again.

He didn’t know how to go about helping him. Shinso shouldn’t be bullied in the first place, but it’s not like they would relent because Katsuki knew first hand the thrill of picking on others . It was shameful, but people like that – people like him – didn’t give it up easily. How could he possibly help Shinso?

“ I wish we could use your police status, then they’d leave you alone.”

“Probably not.”

“Why?” Katsuki asked, sitting back further, but the pressure on his back brought him back in.

“Because,” Shinso breathed. “A sheep doesn’t stop being prey simply because the farmer decides to put a bell around its neck. It just alerts more wolves.”

Ah, yes that made sense. Even if Izuku had gotten a quirk, Katsuki didn’t think he would’ve let up either. Then… what else was there to do ? The UA entrance exams were coming up, so as long as he could stick it out, he should be okay, right?

“Stay with me.” Katsuki blurted, voice still rough as he pressed his forehead against Shinso’s.

The other boy blushed so hard that Katsuki thought he might ignite Katsuki’s sweat and trigger an explosion. Hell, Katsuki himself thought he might do that. Then something incredible happened.

Shinso tilted his head up just so, eyes locked on Katsuki’s as he connected their lips. He held it for a half second before gently pulling away. Katsuki stared at him in shock, breathe caught in his throat. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing dramatically. He blinked, then followed the retreat and connected their lips himself this time, smiling into the action. And then he was licking, kissing, biting. He hadn’t realized how delicious someone could taste.

Shinso followed the action and turned his head, slipping a tongue between parted lips and coaxing Katsuki to swallow him up.

“ Hmm, God,” Katsuki groaned when Shinso sucked at his bottom lip. Everything about this was wrong, so why did it feel so good? Katsuki had never felt heat like this and he wished desperately he could lose himself completely to the feeling, but reality had a nasty way of pushing itself into his thoughts. How could they be doing this with everything that had happened?

When they broke apart, panting hard into each other’s mouths, only a delicate string of saliva connected them. Shinso laid his head back against the side of the mattress, effectively breaking the cord between them. It fell onto his chin and trailed down his exposed neck. H is eyes slipped closed and he was trying to catch his breath as he brought their hands up to rest over his forehead. With his throat exposed like that, i t was just about the hottest thing Katsuki had ever seen.

The blond leaned forwards again to lick up the trail of saliva from throat to mouth. When he did so, the hand that had been on Katsuki’s back flew up to bury itself in his messy golden hair. The kissing was much softer now save for the hand griping his scalp .

“f*ck,” Katsuki breathed , pulling back finally, taking the majority of the blankets with him. Shinso’s lips were cherry red and swollen and Katsuki licked his own lips, finding them much in the same disrepair and not caring in the slightest. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chapter 29: Back to Reality

Chapter Text

Katsuki listened to the sound of the shower on upstairs as he dried his own hair. He had cleaned up in the downstairs bathroom and was now sitting in the kitchen, watching his mother make coffee. She was desperately searching for her mug and Katsuki could practically see the steam building up and leaking out of her. Her frustration was weaning at his patients for his own crisis: Hitoshi Shinso.

They had kissed, yes, but Katsuki thought it had been a little too hot and heavy to refer to it as a simple kiss. A part of him thought he should regret the action – it was unprofessional and Shinso wasn’t exactly in the right head space – but f*ck if it didn’t feel good. The blond was touched by a smile, lips tingling in a way that made him brush his fingers against them.

His mother stopped and studied his face. “What’s wrong with you?” She chided, crossing her arms. “Impressed you actually made a friend?”

“Shut up!” Katsuki snapped, smile dropping into a scowl. “And your stupid mug is in there,” he said, pointing to the baking cabinet.

She rolled he eyes and grabbed the step stool to check. Katsuki groaned and looked towards the stairs where Shinso now stood, dressed in one of Katsuki’s sweatshirts and a pair of his gym shorts.

“Ah.” The noise slipped out from his lips as he raised his head from his palm, slicking back lilac locks in the process. Katsuki’s stomach did another swoop when Shinso met his eyes, but he looked away all too soon, leaving behind pink cheeks. Katsuki smirked in smug satisfaction because he knew exactly why Shinso was acting so koi.

“Ah! You must be Shinso Hitoshi!” His mother cheered exaggeratedly. Katsuki turned his head to stare dumbly at her, but she ignored him. “I hear you’re the one protecting my son.”

“Y-yes Mrs. Bakugo.”

She smiled; it was so foreign on her face that Katsuki doubted its legitimacy. “Oh please, call me Mitsuki! Come, join us!”

Hitoshi hesitated on the stairs for a half second before striding forwards, head swiveling to gawk at everything. Katsuki even thought he heard him breath a “Wow.”

“What, never seen a house before?” Katsuki only half teased, wondering if the other teen could tell that he was probing for answers regarding where Shinso lived. This time, however, he actually did pay him mind.

“Oh,” he smiled dimly, eyes falling to the floor. “Yeah, I’m actually in foster care. I’m the oldest in the household, but I don’t think that’s why I get ignored because our caretakers need the extra help.” He looked off out the window. “I think it’s because of my quirk, but it doesn’t matter because I’ll probably just get moved to a new home sooner or later.”

Katsuki felt his mouth go dry and he tried to swallow, but he found it hard to do so. He needed to say something, anything, right? Katsuki looked at the pristine kitchen and the coffee pot which puffed proudly under his gaze. How could he tell him that it was going to be okay? That would be like a businessman telling a beggar it would be alight simply because he flipped him a penny. Thankfully, it was his mother that answered.

“Well, you’re always welcome at our house,” she said, face dropping back into her usual seriousness that always seemed to teeter on the verge of anger. However, Katsuki had known her long enough to know the difference between anger and concern.

A glance over his shoulder to see Shinso’s wide eyes told him he’d seen it too. Based on his scars and self-deprecating comments, Katsuki had to guess that he wasn’t used to being treated nicely; his quick made him a source for fear. People were stupid and would attack anything they felt threatened by, so Shinso’s villainous portrayal gave them an excuse to pick on him. Katsuki’s blood boiled, springing from it combustible sweat. How could everyone treat Shinso like a villain when he’d remained at a crime scene to guard a stranger’s corpse? All of his solitary investigating before Katsuki. His kidnapping and escape. The blond shivered and shook his head, suddenly yanked from whatever angst was accumulating deep within him when Shinso laid a hand over his.

Katsuki looked up, almost startled by how deep the sadness in Shinso’s eyes was. Then the hand was gone and Shinso was looking back at Katsuki’s mother. He smiled and thanked her. Then as she handed him toast, he thanked her again.

He held the bread in one and grabbed Katsuki’s with the other. “C’mon,” he said. “We need to contact the detective.”

Oh right, they still had a job to do after all. Had the events of last night and this morning really messed with his head that much? Katsuki groaned and followed after. “Let’s grab our sh*t and call on the way to the police station.”

Shinso nodded and they fell back into their rhythm . For some reason, this frustrated Katsuki. Had it really not been a big deal to Shinso? Why was it such a big deal for Katsuki? He ruffled his hair while he waited for Shinso to put his shoes on and thank his mother for the nth time this morning. Katsuki grit his teeth as he strode out the door.

“Be safe, brat!” He mother called out after him. Katsuki ignored her, but did slam the door with a little less anger than usual. Then he dialed the detective and they spoke briefly, emphasizing that he would not be disclosing any details until they met in person…

“… at UA?” The blond breathed. He’d never seen his dream school in person before. Then he shook his head to clear that excitement welling up inside him. “Why are we meeting there?”

“You’ll understand,” the detective promised. “Just call when you’re at the gates.”

“Alight, whatever Mr. Polygraph ,” Katsuki grumbled, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. He could feel Shinso’s gaze studying him. “We’ll be there soon or some sh*t. Gotta catch a train.”

“Alight.” Then the line went dead.

Jesus f*cking Christ , Katsuki thought, pulling a hand down his face. “We’re going to UA,” he told his partner, smiling . “But I don’ t know why.”

“Maybe they’re making us heroes,” Shinso deadpanned, rolling his eyes. However despite his demeanor, Katsuki thought he might’ve sensed a sliver of excitement in his tone. He just hoped he could hold onto that for the both of them because, judging by the detective’s tone, it wasn’t entirely good news.

Katsuki had been right. From the moment the detective had met them at the gates, something was off. The man looked more tired than usual and… defeated? No, that wasn’t quite right, but reading people had always been Izuku’s thing.

They followed the detective through the empty halls. The final term had ended a week prior, so there were no students on campus currently. Katsuki clenched and unclenched his hands, desperately trying to control his quirk despite his sweaty palms.

There was a tiny tap on the back of his hand and Katsuki glanced down to see Shinso’s palm up and open, inviting Katsuki to take it. Katsuki pushed down those uncomfortable feelings of weakness, and in the instant he took the other boy’s hand, lacing their fingers together like rope, he knew he’d made the right decision.

He could see a slight smile tug at the corners of Shinso’s mouth and Katsuki smirked. A small voice in the back of his mind told him that this was unsightly, holding hands like school girls. But Katsuki had kissed him, and he’d kissed back, so this was much less scary. And they weren’t a thing yet. Wait, were they?

Katsuki shook his head, trying not to dwell on stupid relationship drama. He was here at their dream school with someone he’d cuddled and kissed a few hours before. Why not try to enjoy it just a little? Still, there was unease that undercut the warm feelings.

The three of them passed classroom after classroom and Katsuki wondered which one would be his. The doorways were huge, allowing for people like Hound Dog to pass through presumably. It was over all too soon.

“We’re here,” the detective informed them, but when Katsuki looked up to see a storage closet, he was more than a little confused.

“What, Mr. Detective,” Katsuki taunted. “Low on janitors?”

He heard Shinso sigh beside him and press his free hand to the bridge of his nose. The detective made no comment as he beckoned for the boys to step inside. Katsuki groaned when Shinso pulled him forwards by their joined hands .

Once they were all standing in the dark space, Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Great,” he grumbled, watching the man close the door. “Out of one closet and into another.”

“It’s an elevator,” was all the warning Detective Tsukauchi gave before Katsuki felt his stomach try to claw its way up his throat. Both boys swayed, but regained their balance just in time for the almost abrupt stop.

“Who designed this piece of sh*t,” Katsuki wheezed when he could breath normally again.

The only answer was from the happy ding indicated by the doors opening. Katsuki couldn’t help but feel as if it were mocking him. Shinso must’ve predicted Katsuki’s oncoming attack of the elevator and tugged at his hand so insistently.

“C’mon,” he groaned, pulling the blond behind him. “Let’s figure out what this is all about.”

Bakugo dropped their hands when they had stepped into the small make-shift office the detective was using. Hitoshi admittedly was disappointed by the loss of contact, but it was easier to focus with both hands free. One could see that the room itself was a mess just by looking at it, with its papers stacked high on the table-turned-desk and coffee mugs littering the space like land mines. Bakugo kicked one and it rolled under a map plastered to the wall with red circles akin to those in detective shows.

“Welcome to the new headquarters,” Tsukauchi grumbled, picking up one of the mugs and looking into it. Then took a sip of whatever cold coffee was in there and wrinkled his nose, swallowing the substance somewhat regrettably.

“So why here?” Hitoshi asked, looking around. Was this the basem*nt of UA? Or perhaps it was some sort of underground bunker…

“Nezu’s letting us use it,” the detective informed them. “He wanted to meet you two, but he got called out somewhere. Anyways, we’re operating out of here now because we’ve had too many information leaks.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hitoshi watched as Bakugo sauntered over to the map and squinted at it for a half second before turning back and jabbing a thumb towards the paper. “That the body count from last night?”

Hitoshi blinked, suddenly studying the map himself. Sure enough, their corpse was on there along with a small name pinned to identify the murdered. He was the second one in the red line snaking across the board. The last name however was curious because it had a green circle.

“Did that one survive?” Hitoshi asked. Why was his heart beating so fast? And why was he so anxious to hear if Izuku was alive and in custody?

The detective leveled them with a look, eye bags clinging to his lower lids that dug valleys around his eyes. “She’s alive. Bakugo actually met her once during his ‘vigilante’ phase.”

Bakugo looked positively offended. “It’s not a phase!” He roared, and Hitoshi snorted at how utterly ridiculous it sounded. “I just… saw better options elsewhere.”

Just like that, the venom had left his tone and Hitoshi felt eyes on him. He refused to look at Bakugo, afraid of the tingles that would shoot up his spine and hot cheeks.

“Right…” the detective hummed, scavenging for another cup with any coffee left. His eyes followed the trail of liquid once contained within the mug Bakugo had kicked as if he were mourning its loss. “In any case, here’s how the end of the night went: Eraser Head and Midoriya – ah, I should say Two since we’re using aliases,” he shook his head, “whatever. Two. So Two and Eraser Head engaged in a fight which lead to the rooftop of a nearby building. For whatever reason, Two jumped off” – Hitoshi could hear how heavily Bakugo was breathing through his nose now – “and died on scene.”

A heavy silence settled on the room, a crushing sort like cold winter fog swallowing up a town. The detective picked a crumb off the desk and sighed. Hitoshi followed the movement with baited breath. Midoriya was strong. He could’ve survived, right? Tsukachi was about to tell them that he was in the hospital getting better. Hitoshi chanced a glance over at Bakugo. His eyes were locked to that crumb and his nose was wrinkled. His fists were also clenched tight, waiting to explode.

“But,” the detective continued, tossing the crumb into a nearby box-turned-wastebasket. “Somehow he came back from the dead. Tore through the morgue and hospital like a bat out of Hell.”

Hitoshi felt a spark flicker to life inside him. So Midoriya was alive? His jaw hung slack from shock. Luckily, Bakugo asked the question they were both thinking.

“Where is he?”

“O-oh yes. Right,” he said, scrambling. (Hitoshi had never seen the man so disheveled.) “He’s here.”

Bakugo looked around the small office exaggeratedly. “I don’t see him,” he almost sung.

The man sighed and walked past them back out into the hall. “Alright, C’mon. He’s this way.” He started to walk, but suddenly stopped after only a few steps “But you should know. He’s… changed.”

“Changed how?” Hitoshi didn’t miss the accusatory tone in Bakugo’s voice and he doubted the detective did either, but the man moved on regardless.

“As you know, he was a test subject, so his mental and physical health have deteriorated. Just, try not to set him off too much.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes and Hitoshi nodded. They both knew the detective was using the boys to ‘test the waters’ so to speak. To draw out information because obviously Tsukauchi had been unsuccessful. They traveled further down the hallway, the detective taking out a small device and tapping something out. Then they stopped at one of the last doors.

“He doesn’t know he’s here, and we’d like to keep it that way. If he asks, just say it’s for his own safety.” He checked the device and nodded to himself. “Alright. If it gets too much, just let one of us know and we’ll help you out of the room.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Bakugo grunted, looking like he was about to push past the man himself. “Just let us see him.”

Tsukauchi nodded and they entered.

Chapter 30: Reality

Chapter Text

If Izuku’s hands weren't still restrained, he’d be biting his nails to the bed with worry. Eraser Head had opened a small cellphone-looking-thing five times in the past ten minutes and it made Izuku nervous. Had All for One found him already? Was he coming for him? How many more people would die because of Izuku? He couldn’t stop it as his mind kept spiraling. He needed to move. He needed to get away from these heroes because – the image of the hideous Nomu flashed in his mind – they’d just end up a twisted corpse on the lab floor.

“Kid,” the hero said, making Izuku jump. “Breath.”

Izuku stared at the creased parallels settled just above Eraser’s brow before he actually registered what the man was saying. He took a breath, but couldn’t help tugging at the restraints again. He heard a sigh from his left, then the click of that device opening again.

“What is that,” Izuku blurted, finally caving under the weight of his anxiety and worry.

There was a moment of silence where Izuku thought the hero wouldn’t answer, but then he closed the devise and gave Izuku a considering look. “Lets me talk to the outside. Which reminds me,” he said, standing up and getting closer to Izuku. “You got friends coming, kid.”

Izuku felt his pupils contract and his fists grip the bed sheets. His first thought was that this must’ve been a trick because Izuku didn’t have friends and no one just “wanted” to see him. Izuku was just beginning to panic as a knock fell upon the door. His head whipped up and he felt his breath catch.

Then the door began to intrude; at first it was a crack, then a portal to the outside. Izuku leaned forwards to try and see out, but was unable to before three people walked in. First it was the detective – Izuku’s eyes shot down because he knew this scenario. He’d lived it over and over at All for One’s mercy, or lack there of. Izuku didn’t see the other two until one of them made a noise. Unlike in the scenarios, the company did not flank him on either sides for the bed; everyone was just standing at the end. Huh.

Izuku slowly began to raise his eyes, gripping the sheets. He began counting as he climbed: pants, shirt, neck. His eyes stilled their pursuit like a weary explorer . Head . He couldn’t look at the faces; his eyes were caught. Stuck. Why couldn’t he look up?

Shame settled deep in his stomach and he tried to keep his breathing calm. He kept his eyes low because he knew how he looked: Frankenstein’s monster. A lab rat. An abomination. He bit his lip to keep any sounds from escaping in the dead silence of the room, venomous shame coloring his pale skin pink.

“I-Izuku?”

Izuku’s head whipped up, pupils blossoming as they locked onto his childhood friend. He couldn’t breath. Bakugo looked just as shocked as him. His blond hair was messier than usual and there were dark valleys bowing under the weight of his eye bags. It accentuated his crimson irises encroaching far beyond their borders into onyx pinpricks. His face was all scrunched up and his lips were pressed into a thin line with such force that they were nearly bleached.

Then Izuku’s eyes flicked over towards the other boy standing with him. Izuku’s mouth dropped open and he finally let his tears drop onto the bed sheets. “You made it out,” he choked, smiling with forgotten joy, recognizing the face of the other as the kidnapped kid who helped everyone escape. What was quirk again? Some kind of mind control?

“Ah!” Izuku squeaked as he suddenly realized he’d never gotten his name. “What was your name?”

Instead of answering him, the boy fell to his knees and broke down into a fit of sobbing. He braced one hand on the end of the bed frame while his other reached up to intertwine with Bakugo’s. Izuku watched in shock as the blond watched Izuku like he couldn’t believe Izuku was real.

“So this is reality,” Izuku whispered to himself. He felt dizzy, light with assurance. He wasn’t with All for One anymore. He was safe at least to some degree.

Katsuki distantly felt a hand gripping his own, but nothing was registering because of those emerald eyes which had once been the bane of everything. With how different Deku looked, those were the one thing that he knew. Round. Scared. The person in front of him could hardly pass as Izuku Midoriya on the surface, but the eyes. The tears. His voice.

Alive. Real.

Deku. The name felt stale on his tongue. Katsuki was reeling and couldn’t bring himself to speak.

“So this is reality,” Deku smiled and the expression was blinding; Katsuki thought he’d never see it again. Even Shinso’s sobbing had quieted when he heard that. And then the actual meanin of the words hit him. Wait… reality?

A sudden anger overtook Katsuki. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but it’s presence was like a match to gasoline .

“Who did this to you?” He growled, feeling heat in his palms and almost tasting the smoke from impending explosions. He tried to push the feeling away since he didn’t feel like bringing the ceiling down. (They were still underground, after all.)

The moment was short-lived.

Deku stared at him dumbly for a minute or two, then his eyes darkened. It was like watching a a wolf fix its eyes to prey; one second it was panting, eyes bright, then then next the jaw was clamped shut and the eyes locked. A shiver worked its way down Katsuki’s spine. He’d never seen that expression on the smaller boy before, anyone for that matter. It was so primal. With a terrifying realization, Ktauki found himself frozen.

“You don’t want to know-”

“Dammit, Deku,” Katsuki blurted, throat tight from the forced words. His free hand flew out to grip the short rails at the foot of the bed. He was trembling and the bed rail was rattling, but he didn’t care. “Who the f*ck did this?” The blond felt something cool and wet slide down his face and he brought his hand up to touch it. A tear? Was Katsuki seriously crying?

Beside him he felt Shinso try to stand, so Katsuki pulled up on their joined hands to help him. When he was steadied on his feet again, he let go of Katsuki’s hand and gripped the rail as well.

“Midoriya,” he choked. “We – no, you – saved those kids. Do you remember? The ones they were trying to sell?”

Katsuki looked at his partner and the realization stupidly hit him right then. Shinso must’ve been waiting to get that off of his chest for so long. Katsuki could feel his own anger dying down. Izuku had always been the hero, so how had he ended up like this? A murderer and a victim? He let Shinso take the lead for now because Katsuki didn’t think he was exactly the right person to be consoling Deku.

“You asked for my name, it’s Hitoshi. Hitoshi Shinso.” His voice was rough, raw, but stronger than Katsuki had ever heard it. He felt a new match light in his chest.

And then that darkness in his eyes was gone, replaced only by relief. “Thank goodness,” he breathed, sounding somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “But you two are the true heroes. After all, those kids are safe because of you and that amazing quirk of yours. And Kacchan,” Deku met his eyes. “You’re trying to save me from my past. So, thank you both.”

Instead of matching the nerd’s relief, a pit opened up in the blond’s stomach. Why didn’t Katsuki believe him? Why did he feel sick? There was a long moment of silence where the two of them just stared at Midoriya because… what the f*ck? Katsuki opened his mouth to say something, but the detective cut in before he could.

“Alright Midoriya, that’s it for now.” Deku looked like he wanted to protest, but Mr. Polygraph shot him the same look Katsuki’s mother gave him when she’d had enough.

“C’mon,” Katsuki told Shinso, but neither of them moved. It was like, if they took their eyes off of Izuku Midoriya for one second, the charade would crumble and he’d disappear again as if it were all just one big illusion and the man behind the curtain would step out and laugh.

The only man stepping out was Tsukauchi. “Let’s go, boys,” he urged a little more this time. “You have one more visit to make.”

Katsuki was about to protest when Eraser raised his hand. Both boys looked to their mentor.

“You’ll see him again,” he assured the pair. “For now we’re keeping this short and sweet. Midoriya here is still under investigation, after all.”

Katsuki caught the movement of how the other quickly looked down and way. The image from that night crossed over his eyes, unwanted in its truths. Even so, how could Izuku commit murder. Weak Deku. Crybaby Deku.

“How,” he heard himself say. “How could you do that?”

When Deku looked up at him, eyes trailing no higher than the collar of his shirt, a glaze had overtaken his eyes again. “Because,” he whispered low and detached. “I am a monster.”

Monster? Hitoshi’s heart sank as he watched the two. Suddenly, his scars felt a little too heavy and sentient.

“You think you’re a monster because of what happened?” Bakugo shouted back. He was always shouting, but this time it was desperate like an ice pick trying to penetrate a cement wall. “Bullsh*t! You’re a victim. You did what you had to in order to survive.”

“But I-” Midoriya started before choking on air. “I could have just resisted, but I went along with the murder plot.”

For some reason, Aizawa did not stop Bakugo as he closed the space between he and Midoriya and snatched up the collar of Midoriya’s hospital gown. Slight explosions sounded from his free hand as a twisted frown worked its way onto Bakugo’s lips. “You think you wanted this? That you deserve this?”

Even though Bakugo was talking about Midoriya, he felt as if he were speaking directly to Hitoshi. He held his breath as if breathing might drown out the blond’s words.

Midoriya’s nose wrinkled and he held eye contact, banishing the shy and awkward boy Hitoshi had come to know in those couple of days. When Midoriya spoke, it was liquid venom directed at himself. “Of course I do, I thought you had realized that ever since we five.”

Bakugo glared down at him for a long time before letting go exaggeratedly and taking a step back. Midoriya followed him with his eyes, curiously tracking the movement. “Izuku,” he said and Hitoshi did not miss the way Midoriya’s eyes widened. “You’ve been the one to play the hero since we were five. Your stupid f*cking obsession made me resent you because… because I felt like I’d never be smart enough even though you are – no you were – weaker than me.”

He took a breath through stumbling, uncomfortable words. “Look, my point is that you’re the reason I chose to come after you. Why we chose to come after you. Because we believe in your ability to save people. That we can overcome this mess together because you are a good person at your core. ”

Hitoshi felt hot and on the verge of tears. When had he become so emotional? Midoriya looked worse for wear; there were tears brimming and overflowing down his cheeks.

“W-why?” Midoriya managed through snot and saliva.

`”Because,” Bakugo growled. “You never gave up on me, even after all those years of treating you like sh*t. Even that last day before… before you disappeared. Izuku I-”

There was the harsh pull and snap of cloth bindings as Midoriya broke his restraints with ease. They all gawked as he freed his four limbs and got to his feet beside the bed. “Huh,” he simply said, looking at the brutalized bound cloth as if he’d also surprised himself. When no one moved to stop him, Midoriya staggered towards Katsuki and embraced him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into his chest.

A small smile worked its way onto his lips. His eyes flashed up for a split second and locked with Hitoshi’s, then back down again. Bakugo placed one arm over the smaller boy’s shoulder and one in his hair.

“Yeah, alright nerd.”

Chapter 31: One Month Later

Chapter Text

One month later:

UA was bustling with activity, or how Katsuki saw it, infested with extras. Katsuki and Shinso’s placement in the school were already assured under their contract, but Shinso had insisted that they come and watch the entrance exams. Katsuki would’ve liked to compete as well, but Nezu hadn’t allowed them to – something about taking opportunity away from other competitors or some sh*t. A part of him wanted to see just how far he’d come and he knew Shinso felt it as well.

They joined Aizawa up in the viewing room just as the physical portion of the exam began. Their soon-to-be teacher was swaddled in a yellow sleeping bag and draining a jelly packet like a starving leech. The room was nearly dark with the only source of light emitting dimly from a cluster of screens. When the door squeaked closed behind them, it effectively sealed them in and drowned the outside world out.

“Hey, guys,” came a small voice from the darkest corner in the room. Katsuki internally startled because, yeah, he’d forgotten Deku was actually out and under direct surveillance now. The original deal was to have him live with his mother under UA protection at night and monitored by a hero during the day, but that had fallen apart after…

For some reason, Eraser Head had volunteered as the hero and here they were, sitting in some creepy room watching kids fight robots.

“Hey nerd,” Katsuki chided and turned his nose up, humor with a tinge of suspicion creeping into his tone when he saw the pencil and notebook. “You taking notes on our future classmates?”

But there was no pinkness that usually followed such remarks; there hadn’t been since before everything changed. Deku simply nodded, then went back to scribbling.

“Will you shut it, Dynamite,” their teacher groaned from somewhere within the confines of his sleeping bag.

Katsuki bristled, ready to come back with some snarky remark when he felt cool fingers run down the soft inside of his wrist and close around his own hand. He shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold digits.

“C’mon, Katsuki,” Shinso hummed and lead them to a place on the floor. By the time they had gotten settled, Katsuki was blushing. Neither the hero nor Deku seemed to notice however, so Katsuki allowed the small smile to creep up on his lips. After everything, pockets of time like this were priceless.

Ochako Uraraka zipped through the artificial streets UA had crafted for the physical portion of the exam. (It all looked so real! UA really was the best.)

Her fingers brushed against one of the metal robots they were supposed to obliterate and it floated up with the help of her quirk. When it reached the desired altitude, she brought her fingers together to form a steeple.

“Release,” she smiled and the robot dropped into a pile of dented metal and loose parts. That had to have been enough by now, right? What was her count again? She’d sort of forgotten all the different kinds she had destroyed in the heat of battle, so Ochako had no idea how many points she accumulated. She hoped she was doing aright. Well, she supposed she’d just have to keep going just in case she was falling behind; too much was riding on her ability to get into UA that she couldn’t just fail now.

“H-help,” she heard someone cry. Her body snapped to attention and she quickly made her way over to a building with shattered glass that a robot had destroyed. Ochako was fairly sure that the voice was coming from inside it. When she’d made it through the frame, she found a thin boy with blond hair attempting to hit the robot with a stick, but it had pinned him.

She rushed into action, immediately going to touch the robot. However it reached her first and grasped both of her wrists in its iron fist. Panic hummed under her skin and she glanced at the other boy, but his expression now caught her off guard. It was almost… joy? No, that couldn’t be right; the two of them were still trapped.

In a flash, the robot released the boy who stepped out from under it easily with a chuckle. “I can’t believe you fell for that! Damn, some of you hero students are just something else.”

Ochako felt her blood run cold and the tightness around her wrists suddenly felt too constricting. When she couldn’t fully expand her lungs, she began to frantically look around and debated if she should call out for help.

“Relax, sweetheart,” the kid said in the same way old men at bars say to female waiters. She looked closer and wasn’t fully sure he was a kid after all. His size helped him pass for a child, but this was no kid. “Hey, hey, hey,” he crooned, creeping closer and extending a hand out to rest under her soft jawline. “I just need you to tell me where Two is.”

“Get away from me you creep!” She cried out, swinging a leg up that connected with his jaw and sent him reeling back. He yelped and the robot’s hold loosened just enough for her to wiggle her hands free . The fist clamped closed above her, empty of his target. She quickly planted her palms on the cold metal above her head and unleashed her quick all before the villain could recover.

As the robot began to float upwards, Ochak o d arted away. When she’ d taken cover at a safe distance, she brought her fingers together. “Release!”

The robot came clattering down from a few stories up – there thankfully was no ceiling in this artificial buildings – and shattered on impact, sending parts careening in all which ways.

“ Hah,” she sighed, deflating. “Thank goodness.” Her victory was short lived as her head whipped up and found no villain . Speaking of villains… was this part of the exam? Like, extra credit or something? There was no way UA would let a real villain into the exam, right? Where had he gone? Well, no matter because it looked like he’d slipped out of the building, so she gathered her strength and raced out as well. However outside had changed drastically; utter chaos was nothing like the scene she’d left before entering the building.

Fire crawled like hot, glutenous snakes that gobbled everything in its path. The rubble had multiplied and there were people stuck in it. Ochako cursed and ran up to the nearest competitor and began using her quirk on it to lighten the load. It worsened her nausea, but saving people was worth the sacrifice.

“Here, let me help you,” a voice from her left came and two hands moved to push the floating wreckage aside. The owner was a man with glasses and, when she allowed her eyes to trail downwards, engines in his legs.

“Cool, thank you!” She cheered, pulling the other teen out and hauling him back inside the building. When she came back out, she stuck a hand out. “Ochako Uraraka.”

The taller teen smiled, “Tenya Iida, at your service.” He glanced around once and gave a shy smile. “And we should probably free up the trapped people.”

She gave a determined nod and smiled back. T hey had only saved two other people when the earth beneath their feet began to trembl e . Ochako looked down in confusion. “Earthquake?” She muttered before a dark shadow fell over them. A shiver ran down her spine as her eyes slowly climbed up, higher and higher, story by story, slipping as a climber scales a smooth cliff face. Finally they reached the sky, or rather, what should’ve been the sky for a great faced loomed above.

“It’s the Zero Pointer,” she heard Iida whisper from behind. She was frozen, and from the sound of it, so was Iida. The robot was coming this way, but what could they do? Her quirk wasn’t powerful enough to lift it and after working rescue with Iida, she doubted he could do anything either.

The gigantic robot took a step in their direction. Her breath caught. Surely UA wouldn’t let anyone get crushed? There was another step that made her doubt that previous thought. Then movement on the robot’s shoulder tower ing high over the city scrape caught her attention. She squinted and thought she saw someone up there.

“Oh crap,” she whispered, recognizing the blond man from before.

“What?”

“We gotta move,” she said a little louder and a little quicker. Ochako spun around and reached for Iida, but he pulled away.

“No, we have to save these people,” he stated, leaving no room for question.

Tears sprung into her eyes as she frantically looked around at the people still crawling around at their feet who hadn’t been lucky enough to escape the robot-hacking villain. The Zero Pointer was almost there and people still needed saving, but everything was moving in slow motion and she couldn’t do anything about it . “What should I do,” she cried.

She turned down in the opposite direction of the robot again, looking for anyone who could help. A teacher, maybe? A student? Just then, something shot past her. “Huh.”

After the initial confusion and shock passed, she spun on her heel to watch someone scaling the enormous robot. There seemed to be a pipe or something clenched in his teeth and he wore a UA uniform, but it looked more like a jumpsuit and in big, block lettering it read…

“UA Department of Corrections,” Ochako and Ida said in unison as they stared up at the white-haired kid.

Chapter 32: VI

Chapter Text

Izuku watched in horror as the zero point robot loomed above the city scape from the camera feed in the observation room. Something was wrong; It was too sentient somehow. From his left, he saw Aizawa sit up and tap his communicator and heard him mutter something into the receiver. He frowned, eyes locked to the screen.

Izuku stood and felt the heavy weight of Kacchan’s eyes upon him.

“You bolt, problem child,” Aizawa said in between sentences, “and there’s going to be consequences.”

Izuku’s eyes flicked over to his teacher-supervisor once, then to the door and he bolted, consequences be damned. He would do not do any good sitting in there watching screens. He heard Kacchan and Shinso scramble to their feet as well, but they were too slow and Izuku doubted that they’d memorized the maze of twisting halls like he had. They’d likely choose the entrance that lead straight to the viewing room, so Izuku took the more round-about, backdoor one. He hoped the image of the path in his head was enough to get him to the back entrance.

When he reached it, he was half expecting heroes to be there – it was a predictable exit after all – but no one was there to stop him. He frowned in thought. Perhaps Nezu was too preoccupied with the rouge robot? He didn’t have time to dwell though and shrugged, racing down the service road that backed each city plot until he got to the correct one. It wasn’t too hard to tell – they were labeled – but also the Zero Pointer there was the only one deployed early and it wasn’t behaving correctly.

Izuku yanked at his hair as he slipped through the gate bars (being malnourished did have some benefits.) As he did so, a nasty little voice scratched at the back of his mind. Was this his fault? Was All for One terrorizing him even here? Had he sent people to drag Izuku back? A shiver ran down his spine with every earthquaking footfall. Izuku cursed as he yanked a pipe from the side of a passing building and wished he had his scythe.

It wasn’t until he got closer that he noticed a pair of competitors staring dumbly upwards and the metallic monster, about to be crushed. Izuku pushed himself harder. He cursed again before biting down on the pipe to free his hands so he could use them for a barely-formed, rash plan. The head. Taking out the head would help, right? Vines of twisted circuitry draped like jungles in his mind and he did his best not to stall on the details. Right, the head. He could go from there.

He wrinkled his nose as he surged past the examinees, using his momentum to jump unnaturally high. He only reached the armored knee, But it was a start and he used the rest of the strength the doctor had cursed him with to scale the robot. When he had reached the midsection, the robot swatted a few times at him as if he were a pest. When that failed, it made futile grabs at Izuku which he did his best to avoid.

He knew he was taking entirely too long, the itch at his back told him so. Sure he was a good distraction and the bot had stopped its march, but he didn’t know how long he could hold its attention. He needed a better plan, and one came.

The hand swung near again, but instead of evading it, he sprung off the robot’s body plates and bear-hugged one of its thick mechanical fingers. The momentum carried his body around and deposited him on top where he had to crouch to keep his balance.

A shout from below caught his attention and he looked down to find two things. One, he could see Kacchan and Shinso racing down the road with Present Mic, and two, the girl he had raced past was jumping and pointing to the shoulder opposite the arm he was standing on. He couldn’t get a good look at it, but luckily the arm readjusted to reveal the mystery itself.

“Well, well, well,” a voice came from the shoulder before Izuku could see the source. When he did, Izuku froze. “Hello, Two.”

The first thing he registered was the VI tattooed on his neck, but he looked so much older than the kids Izuku had seen in the lab’s tubes. The stranger’s skin was creased and loose in places where youth should’ve been. Was he truly the sixth? He thought he’d been the only survivor, but perhaps not if the man (boy?) who stood before him was a continued experiment. Regardless, his blood ran cold and his breath sharpened.

“How old are you,” Izuku called across the chasm forged between the shoulder and the hand he stood upon.

The shorter man laughed, voice tipping high. “We all have our side effects,” he gestured to his own hair. “You look like an old man too. The difference is that you got to keep your skin, and I got to shrivel like a prune.”

Izuku considered him more carefully. Now that he looked harder, he did seem younger that his features suggested; The slight roll up of his heels, the short attention span, the childish strategy of drawing Izuku out (that somehow worked); being young wasn’t entirely out of the question.

“Why weren’t you at the lab?” He blurted before he could stop himself. All those lonely nights with only the voices in the walls to torment him.

The other boy considered the question. “Because I don’t think we ever crossed paths. You see, I was the quirkless offspring of a crimelord in Chiba. All for One took me in because he said I could be more, and he thinks you can be as well!”

Izuku wrinkled his nose at the thought of going back to that hell hole. “No,” he all but growled, thoughts of cold cement and a wooden bed encasing him like a tomb . He couldn’t go back. He couldn’t…

The boy stilled and lowered his open arms, expression growing cold and dangerous. Izuku mirrored the look out only somewhat out of habit .

“You’re not going back? You’re a convict, Two. You think everyone’s just gonna forgive and forget?”

“No,” he stated again as his heart began an anxious rhythm . He felt like throwing up. “ But a nything is better than All for One.”

The boy shrugged. “Well, Doc said I could bring you dead or alive. So… I guess it’s dead-”

Izuku shot forwards before Six could finish, knocking him onto his back. The boy shouted in surprise, throwing uncoordinated punches of which Izuku easily dodged. He quickly pinned the other’s hands. The robot beneath them shook, but made no move to swat Izuku away. The quirk he was given was powerful, much more powerful than Izuku’s quirk shield. However Izuku wouldn’t trade it, not if it resulted in such a potent version of accelerated aging.

He screamed angrily from beneath Izuku . “Let me go!” But nothing happened. His fingers twitched, but the robot had seemingly abandoned him. Was Six’s quirk based on hi s hand mobility? Izuku decided to test that and allowed his left to slip free. The robot immediately shuddered. Izuku watched curiously as he raised his hand just slightly and flicked his pointer finger .

Izuku grinned. “Ah, I see-”

The impact from the large metal hand was like getting hit by a freight train. Despite being swatted like a fly, he managed to grab onto one of the metal digits. He was grinning as blood dripped down his face. He was right! And the best part? He now knew exactly how to beat this kid.

He flew up the arm and climbed over the head to get back to Six who hadn’t seemed to notice him yet. The aged boy’s eyes scanned the direction Izuku had gone fruitlessly. Izuku observed curiously as the wrinkles creased deeper, skin sagged lower as if it were melting from his frame with each new movement. What a curious side effect; yet another quirk not suited to its host. It was the issue Izuku was beginning to see with quirk transfers. Would his body give out? Perhaps that’s why All for One wanted Izuku back: because Izuku didn’t have such debilitating side effects.

The kid groaned and placed his hands on his knees, breathing hard, r aspy, l ike the attic lungs of an old man. Age spots blossomed on his skin, unholy bruises competing with h ollowed cheeks . Seemingly anyone but the actual user could see how this power bestowed upon him by All for One was was killing him. Literally sucking the life out.

Izuku crept up behind him and wondered if he could even hear Izuku anymore. “The Doc found a reversal I assume? Gonna patch you up and make you a young man again?”

The other turned around hastily, but it was slower and more messy than the beginning of their fight. “Yeah,” he croaked. “Gonna give me an anti-aging quirk.”

Izuku easily evaded the other’s punches simply by swaying and ducking. “Why wouldn’t they give it to you ahead of time?”

“They wanted me to prove myself first!” He huffed dust and turned to compelling the robot again. Even its attacks were slow and sloppy as if it too were dying .

“How are you gonna prove yourself when your dead?” Izuku quipped, watching the other brace himself on his knees as he breathed hard.

“I-” huff - “just need-” wheeze - “to show loyalty.”

Izuku sighed, eyes laden with pity. “Y’know, All for One doesn’t see you as anything more than a disposable cog. Like the cover of a thermometer – covered in sh*t and thrown out. He’s holding you on empty promises and using your weaknesses against you.”

“ How would you know! You are the least loyal among us.”

Izuku paused . “Hang on, us ? There are more of us ?”

But before he could answer, a small flick of purple mist opened up behind Six. Izuku watched in horror as it got bigger, remembering the ways in which it swallowed him. Izuku felt dizzy, head pounding.

“See ya, Two,” the other boy, marred by age, chimed. Then he was stepping into the misty purple cloud that might as well be the portal to Hell.

Before it closed completely, yellow eyes formed. They just stared, motionless for seconds. All sound died away, surroundings melting into gray and black. Izuku’s ears rung. Then they were gone with the mist. Izuku however just continued to stare. Finally, when he realized it wasn’t coming back, he sighed in relief and sank to his knees.

“Friend of yours?” Aizawa hummed beside him, making Izuku jump.

“Ha,” he laughed humorlessly. “No.”

“You alright, kid?” He could feel the pro’s eyes on him and Izuku suddenly felt the shaking that rattled him from deep within his bones like the shifting of tectonic plates. He just looked ahead to where the portal had swallowed Six. How it didn’t swallow him, and all he could think was why . Why hadn’t it taken him?

Images of corpses flashed in his eyes. Blood, so much blood. Stolen blood. He tried to steady his breathing before Aizawa would notice and clutched at hi s collarbone as if it were a climber’s crimp.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

Aizawa eyed him skeptically, but dropped it. “Then let’s get you down.”

“ Thank you for saving us,” then two competitors – a round-faced girl and preppy guy who looked like he was already in high school – said, bowing to the nerd. They looked so ridiculous it made Katsuki sneer, but the look was quickly wiped off his face when Shinso brushed his arm. He hummed when he saw the way Deku fumbled with the praise and tried to laugh it off.

“He looks like before, doesn’t he?” For some reason, Shinso’s spoken observation agitated him. Should Katsuki be happy for Deku? Shinso glared up at him. “So then what’s got you so pissy?”

“I just...” the blond trailed off. Something wasn’t right about the scene. Deku’s laugh and appearance… they just didn’t fit. It was like he was putting on a show. “Just, forget it.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue and shrugged his boyfriend off and marched towards Aizawa who was also watching the scene with skepticism. “Oi, teach. Who was that robot guy?”

Aizawa’s dark, narrowed eyes shifted over to the blond. “We’re not sure. Nezu’s looking into it.”

“Deku fights like a starving animal. He’s ruthless – has no form.” The criticism slipped out before he could help it.

“That’s rich coming from a teen with zero combat experience,” Aizawa sighed, crossing his arms. “But I’ll teach him. And you. And Shinso.”

Instead of being a relief, the information only agitated him more and he clicked his tongue again.

“Are you worried that he’ll become too powerful? Are you scared of him?”

Katsuki’s head whipped up and his jaw jutted in defense, “Of course not-”

“Kacchan?” A small voice behind him piped up. A shiver ran up Katsuki’s spine as he spun on his heel to see the pale form of Izuku no more that a few inched away. He hadn’t even sensed him.

“Can we talk?” He said softly. Katsuki grit his teeth and gave a curt nod. His eyes flicked up to Shinso’s for confirmation.

“Sure.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from trembling.

Chapter 33: Summer and Soot

Chapter Text

Elevated heart rate. Shortness of breath. Sweat glistening on his palms. Izuku had never seen Kacchan so spooked… and because of him? If the circ*mstances had been different, Izuku would’ve been impressed. It was because he was impressed that made Izuku so nervous. It was as if their roles had been reversed. Kacchan was predictable – emotional people always were – but this… this Izuku hadn’t seen before. Kacchan was steadfast, strong, confident. Why did he look so… so broken?

What else had the doctor taken that prevented Izuku from seeing the cause?

He let the blond lead them into a faux alley near to the scene of the Zero Pointer attack. Izuku shot a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Aizawa was watching from a rooftop near enough to step in. He was far enough to give the two privacy, a courtesy Izuku didn’t deserve but appreciated all the same. Kacchan glared at Izuku, but it wasn’t like before. Instead of being something intimidating, it was as if he were trying to mask the fear threatening to widen his eyes like a kitten puffing itself up in the face of danger.

Izuku’s hand extended outwards, reaching. “Ka-”

“Why.” The blond interrupted, voice breaking as he took a step back. “Why did you do it.”

Izuku stepped back, arm dropping as he tried not to panic. Blood. Bodies. Rain. His mother with wires webbing out from her frail body.

A part of him had hoped Kacchan hadn’t seen him that night, hadn’t seen the devastation he caused wherever he went. “W-what do you-”

“DAMMIT Izuku!” Bakugo punched the nearby wall, fist exploding. “Why the hell did you do it?”

Izuku studied the face of his childhood friend, scrunched up and… tearful? Something was definitely wrong. “I-”

“I saw you murder someone. How you murdered a lot of people.”

Oh. Izuku stilled. His heart was racing and he felt like he was going to be sick. Blood. Rain. Death. Beeping so loud he could here it through cement walls.

“No, no that wasn’t me,” he reasoned weakly, sinking his fingers deeper into the fine bones of his protruding clavicle. Lies , a voice in his head argued. You did it to them because you wanted to. The voices that follow ed him like the plague suddenly roared up. “IT WASNT ME!” He shouted, and it wasn’t him.

Silence.

Panic.

Suddenly, it wasn’t Katsuki Bakugo, but his mother standing before him. Eyes wide, slipping backwards…

Izuku gripped at his hair, quiet for a long time save for his heavy, labored breathing . “No, I-I didn’t want to do it.” Why did he think coming here would change anything. He was still a killer. Murderer. The voices. The f*cking voices. “Shut up!” He screamed a t nothing anyone sane could hear .

“I didn’t say anything, Izuku.” Katsuki glared, brows knitting together in concern. Izuku had never seen concern like that written upon his face. How much had changed?

“No, not you,” Izuku groaned, waving a hand and hunching in on himself, the weight that followed him clawing its way up and sitting upon him. “Look, I don’t know why I killed those people. All – He gets in you r head. He convinces you do things and you can’t tell if it’s re a l or not.” Izuku held his palms face up, heart against the feather of Maat.

“I regret it, every last thing,” he whispered , dropping a palm. “But I can’t change that now.”

Bakugo’s eyes darted away. “What the hell happened to you.”

Izuku felt a pit of shame settle deep in his stomach. He was making excuses for himself and he knew it. “To be honest, I don’t know.” He answered after a minute. Bakugo looked up, eyes narrow, yet Izuku thought there might be dim curiosity lurking within. Izuku continued. “Everything there… the longer I stayed, the more I felt like it was all just a nightmare. Like it was a blur.” Perhaps at one point in his life, fear would have made him spill everything right then and there, but he was different now. He could control what he was saying. He would protect the blond from information that might get him killed by All for One.

“Body modification,” he pointed to the scars tracing his skeleton, “and tons of brainwashing.”

Bakugo studie d him for a minute as if he were trying to figure out who he was looking at. Izuku knew the look from observation of his own reflection and tended to avoid mirrors. Physically, he did not look the same. White hair. Scars. He looked like villain, and perhaps he was just as ugly on the inside.

“I know,” Izuku said bitterly, eyes darting to the side. “I don’t know who I am either – OW WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!” He squawk ed as Bakugo’s first impacted with the side of his face. He rubbed it and glare d at the ground.

“Well at least I know part of you is still in there,” the blond grinned, coming back with another left hook. This time, Izuku catches it. He’s strong considering he looks like a twig, thanks to the doctor that is. Bakugo’s eyes are locked onto the point where they join. He’s shaking, eyes growing dark as he takes a breath.

“They really f*cked you up?”

Izuku studie d him, somehow feeling more self conscious now than he did before he was kidnapped . “Yeah,” he answer ed quietly, dropping his hand. The change in position left Bakugo off balance and he stumble d forwards. Izuku dodge d the clumsy exchange easil y.

“You project your attacks,” he finds himself saying, slipping into an old habit. “They’re predictable.” I’m predictable. When Bakugo tried to swing again, Izuku grabbed his arm and smashed it into the faux wall. At the same time, he stuck his foot out to trip the blond and the other boy goes down all too easily. “Your hands are your weakness because that’s where your quirk is. You should work on combinations of combat techniques that prioritize the safety of your fists.”

Bakugo rolled over and sat up with his back against the wall. He spat bloody soot into the dirt. Izuku watched the blood begin to seep lazily out of a cut on his lip and felt that all familiar panic begin to set in. Too powerful. Too dangerous. Monster.

Had he hurt him? “Ah! I’m so sorry Kacchan!”

“Izuku,” Bakugo hiss ed, tone stopping him in his tracks. It was downright venomous, yet not entirely directed at him. “I’m gonna f*cking kill them.”

Izuku’s eyes widen ed and something in his chest heats up. This was wrong. Izuku must’ve misunderstood because Bakugo was the one on the ground. Izuku had put him there, and yet... “ Do you mean it?” He heard himself say . His lips felt numb and there’s a pit in his stomach… but there’s something else, too . Underlying. Unclear. “B-but why?”

“Because,” Bakugo grunts, getting to his feet. “Those bastards took away your ability to be weak.”

Izuku huffed a laugh; he can’t help it. Suddenly, they’re not in the alley, they’re kids in the river near the park they always played in. Izuku extends a shaking hand and swears he can feel summer wind. Spring. “What? Scared of a little competition?”

But Bakugo just stared at the hand, eyes painfully sharp and expression slack. Where was that predictable, toothy grin of his and fighting spirit? Why did the blond look… so tired?

“No,” he finally said with a grunt , getting to his feet on his own . “ I’m scared you’ll forget to hold back.”

Izuku took a step back, head and hand dropping. “I’m fine, really. It’s my body that has changed.”

Bakugo settled him with a hard look. “Then why is your mom in a coma?”

Chapter 34: Family Reunion

Chapter Text

One Month Earlier

When Izuku had finally been let out of his room, it was under strict supervision of Nezu and Aizawa.

“As you can see, this bunker has been built to house a great number of students, staff, and civilians in case of emergency!”

Izuku looked behind him, then forwards. Perhaps he should be impressed, but he was claustrophobic. The hallway extended perpetually in both directions, lined by sealed doors. That paired with the soft clacking of their feet against the cold concrete sent shivers up his spine. It reminded him of the lab. Of the empty hospital with its boarded up rooms and dark corners that seemed to conjure a stale draft.

“You alright, kid?” Eraser Head said gently from behind him.

Izuku glanced back at the yellow goggles shielding his eyes from threats. From him. “Are you asking for me or for you?”

Before the hero could answer, they stopped at a door. “Izuku,” Nezu addressed without looking at the boy. “You tell me if it gets too much.”

“What do you-” Izuku started, but Nezu was pushing one of the room doors open and light was pouring out. He squinted against the sharp rays like a sewer rat and, when he could see again, the first thing he noticed was how much the space resembled his old apartment. Then the smell hit him. Familiar. Nostalgic. His eyes widened, scanning the room until they snagged on silky-green hair. His heart stopped and a crippling pang shot through him.

“Mom,” he breathed in near disbelief. The moment should have been ethereal, however there was a second pair of eyes staring back at him, sunken into the face of a rather gaunt man with long, tired blond hair. Izuku’s face dropped.

“Who are you?” Eraser Head asked before Izuku could, sounding more annoyed than confused as if he expected the stranger to be here.

The man opened his mouth to say something, but Nezu beat him to it. “He is All Might.”

Izuku looked at the anamorphic human, but found no humor in his expression. Izuku tried to pick apart the gaunt man in front of him, but he closer resembled a homeless man than a hero. The supposed hero must’ve sensed their doubts and nodded once at Nezu.

The principal nodded back, but is was the stranger that spoke. “I know you may be having some doubts,” he croaked. “So here.”

In an instant, there was a burst of steam and the man in front of them was bulking up, transforming into the face of modern Japanese heroism. Izuku watched in awe as his favorite hero inflated in front of him and with it returned childhood admiration. All Might had that captivating power. Izuku’s bitterness dissipated temporarily as his mind began working on ways that All Might’s quirk could work. Could it be an illusion? No, because Izuku had seen his fights and he was the number one hero in Japan, so there was nothing fake about his appearance or capabilities. Disfigurement, then? Appearance suppression? Configuration?

But then All Might coughed onto the back of his hand and Izuku stiffened. Blood. He could smell the distinct metallic odor like a bloodhound. The man deflated in an instant, hand brushing lightly against a spot on his upper torso and Izuku immediately understood. The reason for the baggy clothes, the ever so slight weariness of a spot near his stomach, this was All Might. He had to hold his appearance to be formidable and even that was killing him. A small smile threatened to quirk the corners of Izuku’s lips and the reaction confused him. Hadn’t this been his favorite hero? Why was he happy to see him suffer?

Something inside him was more broken than the hero.

All Might coughed a few more times and tried to speak between his fits. Something shameful took pleasure in watching the man suffer like this, yet Izuku pushed it down.

“Are you okay,” he heard his mother say as she got up to place a handkerchief in his hand. Izuku watched the movement and glared at the way she rubbed his back like he was some baby. Like their last interaction hadn’t killed a part of Izuku.

“You told me I couldn’t be a hero,” Izuku blurted, remembering that day all too clearly. “Well, you were right.”

“Izuku…” his mother tried to sooth, implying in her tone that this was not the time. Be he didn’t care because it was one of the only things he thought about while living in the lab.

“ No, Mom,” Izuku argued, sounding more broken and angry than he’d ever hear himself. “He was f*cking right.”

“Oh sweetheart,” she cooed. “Come here.”

A pull like riptide tried to drag him forwards, but he resisted. His eyes remained locked on the hand rubbing circles into All Might’s back. “ No, you come here,” Izuku said lowly. All Might’s hand went to wrap around her shoulders and sob broke out from her lips. Sudden anger, annoyance, and confusion bubbled up within Izuku. Why was he acting like he needed to protect her? Why wouldn’t she come to him? He was her son.

“Izuku Midoriya,” Aizawa stated from his side, tone tight. “Maybe it’s time we leave.”

Izuku didn’t budge; his eyes were fixed on the blond man. Why were they treating him like a villain? Oh…

“Please,” he tried again, but the word was much harder than he intended it to be. “Mom.”

Instead of coming to him, though, she only buried her face into All Might’s clothing and wailed, his shirt scrunching where she gripped it. A hand gripped Izuku’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off and took a step. He felt metal cloth loop in warning around his wrist, but he ignored it and took another step.

“Mr. Midoriya,” Nezu’s voice cut through his haze. He looked at the rat man, his hands folded delicately behind his back, head watching the scene. “Be very careful. I know this must be hard for you to watch, but your mother is coping with all this in her own way as well. She loves you, but she needs time.”

All Might popped his head up to look at him and Izuku could swear he could hear voices behind the man. The were faint, but the y were whispering, whispering about him. About All for One. Izuku’s eyes shot up to study All Might’s, dipping deep into old memories to recall the Symbol of Peace and the Symbol of Evil’s history.

“Did All for One do this to you?” The voices behind the man’s head quieted down. The golden-haired man looked startled. Weak. Disgust welled up within Izuku .

“W-what are you talking about, my boy.”

Izuku stiffened. ‘My boy,’ All for One had called him that, too.

“Alright,” Aizawa’s ruff voice cut in. “Time to go, kid.” He gave a light tug at the bindings, but Izuku didn’t budge.

“You have a chronic injury. Is that why you smell like blood?” He took pleasure in the way All Might stiffened now. So he was right. “Wow what a great family reunion, Mom . Got to trade your quirkless kid for some washed up hero-”

The sound of struck skin resounded in the small room as his mother’s hand made contact with his face. The old Izuku would’ve been crying, but all he could do was turn his head and look at her with a sort-of-shocked, sort-of-blank expression.

“How dare you,” she rasped, hand left trembling in the air, hurt palpable in her tone as tears of anger squeez ed out from her eyes. “ Toshinori has been taking care of me and keeping me company while you’ve been away.”

“Away?” Izuku shouted. “I was kidnapped! Twice! You’re lucky I got back at all!”

“Oh, Izuku,” she said, looking him up and down. “You’re not my little boy who got kidnapped. I don’t know who you are, but you’re not him.”

Then she turned around and walked away, back towards the man Izuku used to admire most. Heat and emptiness bubbled up inside him. Pain exploded behind his eyes, but no tears fell.

“You know something, All Might?” He half growled. The man didn’t answer, but looked at him. “You told me that I couldn’t become a hero. You were right.”

And then he was storming out of the room, dragging Aizawa behind him as if Izuku were a dog on a leash.

Chapter 35: Accident

Chapter Text

“Why would you bring me there?” Izuku growled, hanging his head as they walked back to his room. His cage.

“Are you upset because she rejected you like a sad step child?” Nezu inquired with a little too much enthusiasm. Izuku glared at him, but the principal continued. “Truth be told, I hadn’t foreseen this outcome.”

“Bullsh*t,” Aizawa deadpanned from Izuku’s left flank, and he himself was inclined to agree. He hadn’t known Nuzu for long, but the rat was wickedly intelligent to such a degree that it fringed on outright maniacal.

“Well, it was a possible outcome. Even I cannot be sure of everything, but I did not expect this.”

“Yeah,” Izuku mumbled, looking at the cold cement beneath him. “Me neither. I thought she loved me.”

Hands were on his shoulders and in an instant, he was spun around. “She does love you, Izuku.” Aizawa said gently as he crouched in front of him. “It’s just a lot for her to take in right now.” Then he ruffled Izuku’s hair. “You just look a bit different, that all. I’m sure she also feels guilty for the way she reacted, so we just need to give her time.”

Izuku swallowed the lump in his throat. “Why was HE there?” He spat and wrinkled his nose as if the mere mention of the man made the very air rotten as if festering garbage permeated it.

“I’m sure I don’t have to answer that for you,” Nezu hummed from behind Izuku.

Aizawa glared at the principal before returning back to Izuku. “Listen, kid. That was the wrong way to go about it. I don’t know why he was there,” he paused to again glare at Nezu, “but we’ll figure this out.”

Just then, the door creaked open, sound echoing and beckoning all eyes like flies to meat. “Nezu, do you have a moment?” All Might said, leaning against the door frame. He could hardly pass for All Might with his frail body and soft voice.

Izuku watched helplessly as Nezu nodded and turned back. He was always helpless, quirkless, weak…

“Hey,” Izuku barked and they stopped to look at him. A small flicker in his chest that he had always quelled lit up; this time he wouldn’t let it die. Something wicked was building inside of him and he let it carry him forwards. Nobody stopped him when he threw a punch at All Might’s face. The man caught it easily and studied it with dark eyes. “Why!” Izuku screamed at him, and he was at the port all over again. Police, hero, mist. Ocean, breeze, sirens. “Why did you let them take me away!”

“My boy, I-”

“Don’t,” he threw out his left in another desperate punch, “call me that!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” All Might dropped his hands, but Izuku just went for his throat once they were free. He practically tackled All Might, knocking them both to the ground. However Izuku stopped when All Might’s eyes widened; he couldn’t muster the strength to harm the man’s frail body; he was so weak…

“Was it because I told you I was quirkless!” He screamed instead, eyes welling up with tears. “One less abscess to lance away! Leave me for the dogs because that’s what useless people like me deserve?”

He was crying now, hands limp around the hero’s neck. Hands gently gripped his wrists and pulled them away.

“My b– Izuku . I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’ve felt guilty about it everyday.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have,” he choked, yanking his hands free. “You wanna know something? Every second I spent rotting in that fluid tank, cell, hospital bed, I was thinking about escape. How can I leave clues for the heroes? How can I disobey orders to be a better person?”

He sits back. “I thought I wanted to be a hero, but I don’t think I’m good enough. I don’t think I ever was.”

“Izuku, I-”

“No. Shut up. Shut. Up,” he says it slowly and pops the “p.” To his surprise, All Might’s jaw actually obeys and Izuku grins. “You know where trying to be a hero got me?”
Izuku waits, thrilled when All Might stays quiet.

“It got me a seat in the doctor’s chair. f*ck,” he breaths, scratching at his arms. He felt skin wrinkle under his nails and the sting of warm liquid. By the time he lifts his hands, however, he can already feel the shallow wounds healing. “I can still feel whatever they put in me.”

Everyone is quiet. Waiting.

“And you know who saved me?” He leans forwards until he is right up against All Might’s ear. “It wasn’t you.” He can barely contain the laughter and tears that threaten to spill out.

“Izuku, I’m sorry.”

Izuku’s face fell slack and a lifeless smile encroached upon his lips. “You don’t get to be sorry!”

“Izuku!” His mother screams from just inside the doorway. His head snaps up. She looks distraught and begins talking quickly. Frantically. “Izuku, he helped me while you were gone. It was hard when you left, but…”

“…but what ? You realized how nice it is not to have a quirkless kid staining your social life?”

She bit her lip and glanced away. “No, that’s not…”

“After Dad left, I’m sure you wished you could do the same.” There’s a pit in his chest of hopeless hope. Of fear that he is correct.

She locked eyes with him, but this time the look is strong, confident, and tearful. “No. Izuku I loved you. I still love you,” she looks down to where he has All Might pinned. “I just don’t know who you are anymore.”

Everything in him sank then, like an old dog with sagging eyes, the final strands of life ripped away. “I’m Izu-” He stopped and looked down, noticing the slight tremor to All Might’s wrinkled brow. He’d never taken All Might to display fear, but then again this was a more human version of his idol. “I don’t know who I am either.”

He staggered to his feet and offered out a hand. All Might took it and Izuku pulled the man of skin and bones to his feet as if he were made of air. Lighter than a ghost.

“Izuku,” All Might breathed. “What do you know about All For One?”

Everything in Izuku’s world stopped then. The air around him chilled and his eyes dimmed with torturous memories. “Why do you want to know about All for One?” The voices hissed and cried out behind him. He could feel their claws dig into his back and jaws snap at empty air just beside his ears. Putrefied flesh wiping off upon his own.

Behind All Might, his mother screamed and slipped. The sound her head made when it hit the floor was like a watermelon hitting concrete. The voices screamed in excitement when the scent of blood hit his nose. “Mom,” he whispered at first, but soon his voice was climbing. “Mom!”

He pushed past All Might and frantically dropped to his knees beside her, hands hovering above her bleeding head.

“No, no, no,” he chanted. Don’t move the head or body. Somewhere behind him, someone was calling for Recovery Girl. All Might joined him then as well, their earlier dispute forgotten. When the man tried to roll her over, Izuku gripped his wrist. “We don’t know the damage, so we shouldn’t move her yet. We don’t want to do more damage.”

To his relief, All Might nodded and merely pinched the corners of her eyelids which, with a mutual sigh of relief, twitched in response. When Recovery Girl arrived, Izuku gave up his spot beside his mother. Everything from then on was a blur; moving shapes like ink dropped into water, twisting in plumes of uncertain tendrils which curled around him. There was nothing he could do. Like much the rest of his life he thought he’d left behind, he was completely and utterly useless.

It was then he learned that fire was unfathomably dangerous. It ignited a person; it brought forth light. But it's paid for in pain, for fire can melt the very flesh off bones.

Chapter 36: Visitors

Chapter Text

That night inside his hospital room, he allowed the voices to bend and sway around him as if he were a stone among the weeds, captured by an invisible tide and pulled about like a stringed puppet. Every night, he couldn’t sleep, yet somehow he felt more awake in the waking void than he’d ever felt in the lab, at the port, or in his own room licking wounds marked upon him by those he once called friends.

His mother was in a coma, Recovery Girl had informed them. It was not a medically induced coma, but a true one as if her body were protecting her. His mother was in a coma because of him. Even her body treated Izuku as a threat.

Monster.

Abomination.

Izuku buried his face in his knees, temples and brow throbbing. While there was no mad doctor here, he couldn’t help but feel as he had made a trade, one prison for another. The first place where all he could hurt was strangers. The second a place where people he knew fell victim like trees to the axe. How does one escape such a fate? Perhaps he should-

Knock, knock, knock came from the door, lifting Izuku’s head as if by some unseen force. The weight and rhythm told him it was Aizawa. While he didn’t mind the company, now perhaps wasn’t the best time to talk. The ghosts he dragged behind him were much more powerful now. Dangerous. The image of Aizawa, head bleeding on the ground, replaced the image of his mother. No, he couldn’t do that again.

And yet the door creaked open still.

“Wait!” Izuku shouted, hand extended outward, panic rising like acid, but it was useless.

“Relax, deary,” came the sweet, worn voice of a woman. “It’s just Shouta and I.”

Izuku puzzled over the name until he watched as Aizawa and Recovery Girl appeared. Everything suddenly fell into place just as a sudden pang of guilt hit him.

“Oh, um… sorry for causing you to work late,” he said when they’d finally made it in and closed the door. He assumed it was late, yet there was no semblance of time here.

To his relief, she waved a hand. “It’s no trouble, deary. I’m used to it.”

I’m used to it. The words weighed on him like the ghosts curling at his back, engorged with guilt.

“Is she gonna be alright?”

“She’s in a coma,” the other hero answered, tone unreadable, yet somehow Izuku didn’t think he was angry. “But she should be fine in time.”

Izuku’s eyes flicked down to the cold concrete floor. “Good,” he breathed. It was good; she would live.

So then why was he so unhappy?

He could feel Recover Girl studying him with her wise eyes. “I’ve not come to talk just about your mother, deary. I’ve also come to see you.”

Izuku’s head whipped up. Fingers snaked into his hair and he began tugging them through it anxiously. He must have misheard. “Me?” He sputtered, feeling as if this were some cruel joke, but the relaxed creases of her cheeks and press of her lips made her appear serious. He searched for a tick of suppressed laughter, but found none; it was hiding on his own lips. It crawled out of him, breathy and hysterical. The voices joined in like a chorus, microphone feedback, but all the heroes would hear was Izuku. Something was definitely broken within Izuku, but he couldn’t find the piece because he’d lost the piece to find it.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa interrupted, stepping closer after a moment. “Why did your mother panic?”

Izuku grinned at him; his lips burned from dozens of microscopic cuts. “As blunt as ever-”

“Izuku.” Aizawa said with more concern than Izuku had ever heard in it. It was as if he were saying, tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth . Izuku snorted at the old American phrase he saw in one of All Might’s old collabs with some heroes from abroad. What were their names, and why did he remember that specific detail?

“Deary, are you listening?”

“Oh, yes,” Izuku sputtered, trying to refocus. “I don’t know, but she doesn’t exactly like me.” Lies , Izuku’s head replied. You know exactly why. It’s because “I’m a monster.”

“Izuku, we’ve been over this. You are not a monster.”

“Why is everyone saying that!” Izuku shouted, fist flying out to impact with the wall he was sitting against. Small fissures in the concrete could be seen when he pulled his hand away. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Can you not see how inhuman I am?”

Recovery Girl pursed her lips and joined Aizawa’s side. “Hun, we just want to help you. Can you tell us what you believe makes you a monster.”

Slowly and carefully, she knelt down in front of him and took his hand. The ghosts took hold of his shoulders, leaning, gripping, clawing like demons, yet they did not attack. Instead, it appeared as if they were trying to hide, as if light had been shone directly on them, where they scattered like roaches to the darkest parts. He turned his head to look over at the twisting shapes that closer resembled the smoke after a candle had been blown out. He blew the smoke away, void eyes and screaming mouths melting into the air.

Then he removed his hand. If he told them about the creatures, then he’d likely be put on even closer watch and forced to stay down here longer. It might’ve been for the best to keep him locked up, but he was suffocating like a flickering candle, fire-chased-smoke escaping into boneless beings as soon as the wick or oxygen met its end.

Still, he doubted they’d give it up and needed something to hold them off. “I’m not just me anymore. I’m steel and chemicals and the product of organic transfiguration. I’ve killed people,” he all but snarled, but the heroes did not flinch. He could feel his breath going short. “I-” he tried, but his voice broke and he began choking on someone else’s lungs.

Recovery Girl took a step back, presumably to allow him to breathe, just as Aizawa who flew in front of him. Finally, he crossed the cold distance and enclosed him in a tight embrace. One hand has wrapped around his head, pulling it into the hero’s chest, as the other moved to cover the thin expanse of his lower back. The grip was so strong it was comforting as if he’d never let Izuku go. Something in him, something he thought he’d lost bubbled up within him and Izuku grips at the man’s sides weakly and sobs into his chest. Actually sobs. Tears. The ache of his sinuses to move fluid out his eyes and nose is a long lost feeling.

In that moment, in the place where time could scarcely be perceived, he felt human. He felt so human, in fact, that the part of himself he’d grown so accustomed to – the part that was always conscious of – the metal in his bones, the fluid in his veins, the voices – everything melted away. All the oil suffocating him scrubbed away with soap. Washed away, yet it left him stained.

When Aizawa began to pull away, Izuku clung a little tighter. “Please,” he choked. “Don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone.” Alone with them .

There was a sigh, the air tickling his head and smelling vaguely of coffee. It was comforting in a way that Izuku felt himself relaxing.

“Whoa kid, don’t go dead weight on me,” the man quietly teased, although Izuku knew he didn’t care that he hung on him like a sack of potatoes.

“Hey,” the hero began. “I’m going to make you an offer, but I’m gonna need you to listen to it all before you answer.”

Izuku pulled back and nodded, confused.

“Okay,” Aizawa hummed. “Although let’s talk about it after your physical evaluation.”

Izuku’s eyes flicked down to the older hero, the creases in her ever patient face just a bit darker.

“All right, deary,” she said. “Let’s have a look at you.”

Chapter 37: Spring Eyes

Chapter Text

There was blood everywhere. On him. It filled his mouth. His blood and Shinso’s and Deku’s. Shinso lay in a heap of unmoving flesh and fabric. Deku was standing, scythe dripping from the veil of rain and tinted with blood. When he turned to look at him, his eyes were hollow, both in the literal and figurative sense. Empty and oozing liquid. More starved than a back hole. Katsuki’s ears rung. Pain. A portal opened then, a nauseating swirl of violet vapor. He’d seen this portal on the news from security camera footage recovered from the portside kidnappings, and just like before, the anomaly swallowed Deku. His shock of white hair whipped lightly, glowing under the moonlight.

Katsuki sat up with such speed and power one may believe it possession. He was breathing hard, sweat leaking out his pours and rolling down his skin as he grabbed at the blankets below him.

“Katsuki?” Hitoshi’s groggy voice met his ears as he sat up halfway and propped himself on an elbow. Hitoshi adjusted so that the propped hand could still hold Katsuki’s own while the other rubbed at his sleepy eyes.

“I-it’s nothing,” Katsuki grunted and fell back into the sheets beside his boyfriend. It was nothing , he told himself. Just a dream.

“Well, can we at least talk about it tomorrow,” Hitoshi looked over at the little digital clock, “or later today, I suppose. When the Sun’s up.”

Katsuki grunted in agreement, sweat turning his skin clammy. They laid back down, yet Katsuki couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing outside to the moon, a shock of white peeking out from between his curtains. It watched them curiously, bleach against the city-washed sky. He closed his eyes to escape that white, but the image remained projected on the inside of his lids.

Izuku ended up going with option two, which was ironic considering how that number rooted in so much evil led him here; to UA; to the home of Eraser Head and Present Mic. The agreement was that he remain under direct supervision for the entirety of his stay. Izuku felt a bit nervous about the whole bathroom and sleeping situations, but he supposed they could work it out later. After all, anything was better than this concrete cell with walls so thick he felt entombed, yet so thin he could practically hear the beeping and hum of the medical equipment keeping his mother alive.

Second by second, hour by hour.

Timeless time.

Nezu had come by before Izuku had left to inquire about teleportation quirks. A wearines had fostered between them; for Izuku it had been the man’s strange dismissiveness of the situation and unnerving instinct that he’d played more than the role of an innocent bystander. Izuku had known men who played reality like chess, and he was aware of where he stood on their checkered field. In some ways, Kurogiri and he were painfully similar; people with desired traits were never free.

Still, Izuku gave him what he speculated of such powers. First and foremost were the limitations to teleportation quirks, a fact both Izuku and Nezu understood. Places users hadn’t seen, for instance. Places they hadn’t been. Aizawa’s house was hopefully one of those places, and if it wasn’t safe, the hero could just erase the quirk of anyone who tried to reach Izuku. That was excluding physically-modifying quirks, but Aizawa and Present Mic were more than capable. They had to be…

Not strong enough , a voice inside of him hissed. You’ll get them killed. HE is coming for you.

The hollow, yet heavy voice of All for One echoed in his memories. I am evil incarnate , he’d boomed. He could still hear the way All for One would wet the roof of his mouth before he spoke. How he had to do nothing just to be everything in the room.

“Shut up,” Izuku groaned into the emptiness from his crouched position in the cell-like bunker. He was in the corner opposite the door, back pressed up against where the cool walls linked, protruding spine fitting like lock and key. He felt secure that way, able to see the entire room and know what lay at his back. Bed and chair. Darkened lights above and the dim glow from the emergency light. He had access to a lightswitch now, but sometimes it was nice to not see anything at all. It was the one place and time he could exist now without being constantly monitored. A part of him was relieved to not feel so self conscious, eyes pinning him in a shadowbox like a beetle. Then again, he wished he had someone alive to speak to.

“Soon,” he whispered and rocked. “Soon.”

The home of two pro heroes was surprisingly modest. A nice house, but not entirely distinguishable from its neighbors like Endeavor’s large, historical estate or what Izuku imagined All Might’s to be. Even better were the numerous cats inside. He’d grown up without any pets, yet he always admired them. They were usually quiet, skittish, and mistrusting at first, so when you won their trust, you knew it was genuine.

When he first saw the partially hidden feline eyes watching him, he feared that the cat would never come up to him. Perhaps she could still smell the blood like Izuku could, or see the demons that lurked behind him, clinging to him like putrid garbage, reeling him backwards. But she did come to welcome him. She was a sort of charcoal-gray with long, fluffy hair and narrow eyes the color of spring buds. She twined between his legs and reared to mark him with her whiskered cheeks. When Izuku crouched down above her, she dashed out from under him and greeted his open hand with soft purring. A light smile softened Izuku’s face as another cat - this one a calico - joined them.

“That’s Haru,” Aizawa said behind him, letting the light duffel bag fall to the floor beside him and gesturing to the gray cat. Izuku had insisted that he himself carry in the bag - it contained some items from Nezu and Recovery Girl - but Aizawa used his temporary guardian rights against him and chose to bear the burden, although Izuku could not begin to comprehend why. “And the other’s Sushi.”

Izuku snorted and Sushi swatted playfully at her sister. “Who names their cat Sushi?”

“I did!” A man cheered from down the hall. Izuku stiffened, but relaxed when he realized it was just Present Mic. “Hey there, Midoriya! You can call me Hizashi. I’m thrilled that you’re here!”

Izuku stared blankly at him, then at Aizawa, then back at Present Mic and grinned. Huh, opposites really did attract, then. A small laugh trilled out from between his lips. The cats purred beneath his palms and his smile widened. “Thank you for having me.”

Izuku’s first night was rough to say the least. Hizashi and Aizawa took turns watching him, but Izuku couldn’t fall asleep. It was odd; he was in a home, a good home, and yet he felt ill at ease. The voices were quiet, but for some reason he felt anxious under the vigilant gaze of the heroes. At just a half hour past the 1am shift change, Aizawa spoke into the darkness.

“You awake, kid?”

Izuku debated staying quiet to feign sleep, but then what was the point? Groaning, he sat up and rubbed his stinging eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You ever sleep?”

Izuku’s voice was rough when he spoke, so he cleared it rather exaggeratedly in the silence. “No?”

A chuckle. “Yeah, me neither.” There’s a long beat of silence, and then: “Want to go do something?”

Izuku fell quiet again. Just what was Aizawa implying? “What about Nezu?” He asked, worried the rat man would pull him away from these new accommodations. If there was one thing Izuku needed more than sanity, it was stability.

“It’s fine; it’s a part of your rehabilitation training.”

“On the first night?”

“Well, he didn’t exactly say the first night…”

Izuku smiled again. Spring eyes watched him from the doorway. “Okay, let’s go.”

Chapter 38: Danger in Darkness

Chapter Text

Izuku was giddy, fear and excitement bundled into a grin. Cool air blew on his face from where he sat atop a small building next to the crouched form of Eraser Head. His goggles were obscuring his eyes, but Izuku could tell he was focusing on something in the distance, mouth concealed by his scarf as its ends whip about to join his wild black hair, intertwining.

When the hero catches Izuku staring, he offers him an unreadable expression. However when he speaks, Izuku thinks he hears a smile under the monotone. “You’re excited.”

Izuku looks out at the horizon and nods. “It feels like I’m finally going to be able to do some good.”

Aizawa snorted, but it's not in a mean way. Izuku knew he must look rather silly saying he wants to do good while being dressed in a UA Department of Corrections uniform with a neck tattoo. Honestly, he hadn’t known the school had a department like that and wouldn’t be surprised if the principal came up with it after working with law enforcement just to keep Izuku. He frowned in thought because what about Izuku was so great that Nezu was willing to gamble with the lives of everyone else just to keep him. Perhaps he was information and bait?

“What’s wrong, kid?” Aizawa asked, studying Izuku with care.

Izuku puzzled up at him. Surely Aizawa had caught on to Izuku’s purpose? Nezu’s intentions? Why care if you’re just using me? He wanted to ask, but now was not the time. Why me?

Images of the doctor’s failed experiments flashed in front of his eyes. Flesh melting, sagging off, turning a putrid, necrotic black. Izuku touched his own face, fingers trembling over grooves as if it were brail. Smooth. And yet, he could feel his skin slipping, feel the ache in his bones, taste the foulness of saliva caught in a gaping mouth.

Perhaps All for One’s greatest ability was sucking the life out of everyone he met. Izuku never noticed it, but it was working away slowly like mold, weaving its microscopic tendrils through him, blossoming until no part was safe.

“Kid!” Aizawa was kneeling in front of him now. His goggles were pushed up and he was backlit by an advertisem*nt featuring All Might, so his shadowed eyes were just as masked as before. He reached up to gently pry Izuku’s hands from his hair and with it came clumps. “Stop that.”

“It doesn't matter,” he choked, yanking his hands away and feeling mildly guilty for the way the hero’s own just hung suspended in the air. “It grows back. Everything always comes back.”

Aizawa was pensive for long enough to make Izuku grow nervous. Was he having doubts about taking Izuku in? Would he have to go back to the cage where he belonged?

No matter what, he didn’t want to go back.

“Tell you what. You tell me something, and I reciprocate.”

Izuku studies the faceless face before him. Somewhere, someone shouts. Somewhere else, someone laughs. Music. Friends. For some reason, he thinks of that red-headed boy that helped him up the night he met Girin. Kirishima, wasn’t it?

“I want people to like me,” he blurts. “I want to be more than a monster.”

This time, he doesn’t have to see Aizawa’s face to know there is a small smile curving up the corners of his lips. “You were never a monster, Midoriya. You are just a lost kid, much like I was after Hizashi and I lost our best friend.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. “What happened?” When the hero doesn’t answer, it takes everything for Izuku to not roll his eyes at this childish game. “I killed things like me - the failed experiments. HE calls them Nomu. From what I understand, they’re a combination of people’s quirks.” He shivers at the cries he used to hear while walking the hospital halls. The boarded-up rooms weren’t always empty…

“His name was Oboro Shirakumo. He died while Hizashi and I were still in school.”

A pit settled low in his stomach. What was someone even supposed to say after hearing something like that? ‘I’m sorry?’ No, that didn’t feel right either. He chewed on his lip in deliberation.

“There were more kids like me, but they died during the experiment process. I think All for One is after me because I hold the secret to making more advanced Nomu, though I don’t know what allows my body to handle everything the doctor’s done. I’m the second experiment, and I’ve never met the first so I can only assume they’re dead.”

Aizawa’s hands are tighter now and it makes Izuku wiggle uncomfortably. They immediately soften and Izuku relaxes. Aizawa takes a breath before he continues. “Shirakumo’s quirk allowed him to create clouds and control their density. He could lift people with his quirk, or make it thin enough to obscure vision and provide cover.”

Izuku’s eyes lit up just at the billboard behind Aizawa’s did, reflecting blocks of gold in their evergreen depths. “Whoa, so could he control the molecules themselves? If so, then did that control only apply to the molecules he created – wait no, he couldn’t have created them… did he pull them in from outside forces? What if he was in a desert with little moisture? Could he make it rain if his clouds were too dense? Perhaps he could train his quirk to pull more water in to contain and control larger cloud-”

“Izuku.” Izuku looked up, but Aizawa wasn’t angry. Even in the darkness, he looked… proud? No one had ever looked like that when he’d gone off on a tangent.

“S-sorry,” Izuku smiled nervously, briefly reverting back to old habits. The more he thought about it, the more familiar something seemed about the quirk. Then a shiver prickled at his spine, old memories opening up as if Kurogiri had found a way inside of it. “Although, it does remind me of another quirk-” he could almost taste the mist now - “but it doesn’t matter! Sorry.”

Aizawa ruffled his hair. “It’s fine, kid. I like to see you excited, so maybe it wasn’t a bad idea bringing you out here. C’mon, let’s go catch some sh*theads.”

Izuku’s grin did not falter, yet there was something like a churning in his stomach that made him believe that this was, in fact, a bad idea.

Himiko Toga’s face grew warm with each passing second the doctor’s creation fluttered about delicately in her hungry eyes. When she’d taken up the bounty with the rather boring Shigaraki, she hadn’t thought much in terms of her subject. But this one…

He was standing back from the fight, watching, unnoticing of her. His lips were trembling as if he were speaking silent incantations into the air. Something came flying out from the fight and even though he dodged effortlessly, it still nicked him just above the brow. Beautiful crimson drooled lazily down his pale cheeks and everything in Himiko’s being honed in on that one drop of absolute heaven. Yet it was over all too quickly; he wiped his brow, smearing the blood away. Then confusion wracked her because head wounds bled a lot, so it was odd to see so little. She followed the trail to its source and, even though it was concealed under white locs, the cut had been completely healed!

Her heart was racing now. She could draw her blade upon him forever! She could take in his life fluid and be not afraid that it might kill her lover. Himiko wipes the drool from her mouth.

He had scars and white hair. Faded freckles and green eyes. How much had he done? Had he killed too? She took a step forwards, vibrating on her heels, but immediately stopped when another man stepped into view. This one was covered in blood, but he was nothing standing next to that boy. They began talking and Himiko assumed that was the protector Shigaraki had warned her about, a pro hero.

She ducked back into the shadows, golden eyes eternally fixed on her new love. She smiled and, with tears in her eyes, promised she’d come back for him.

“What is it, kid?” Shouta asked, watching as something in the darkness of the streets caught Midoriya’s attention. At first he’d thought he hadn’t even heard the question, seemingly searching for yet another unseen entity that lurked in his mind, but he shook his head and grinned up at Shouta.

“That was amazing!” He whisper-shouted as if the quiet after battle had also demanded his voice. “I’ve never seen someone fight so well hand-to-hand without relying on the aid of a physical quirk.”

Shouta reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair, feeling a wave of pride when the kid didn’t flinch away and instead smiled. He didn’t lean into the touch, but it was something good that the hero would’ve fought a hundred battles to see. “Yeah? Now how do you think I could improve.”

The question seemed to catch Midoriya off-guard because his face dropped and he ogled up at him. “I-I’m not sure I have the experience to tell you how to fight.”

“Don’t worry, I just want to hear what you noticed from an outside perspective.”

Midoriya chewed on his lip in thought long enough for Shouta to reconsider the question, but soon spoke. It had become a pattern with the boy, thinking hard before speaking, as if he were protecting some great truth… or great evil. He was mindful and overly anxious, but in the kind of way that culled impatience in Shouta and beseeched him to wait.

“Your goggles still leave you vulnerable to sand attacks – ah, but you already know that – and if you can’t change your goggles, perhaps you should bait them into attacking that way. Sand attacks are only dangerous when they surprise you, so you could instead make your opponent venerable and defeat them simply by taking advantage of a desperate move.”

Shouta pushed up his goggles and dropped eye drops into his burning eyes. He had been hit by a sand attack earlier and his eyes were burning from it. Shouta could feel Midoriya’s eyes on him.

“S-so, uhh… wanna spar?”

Shouta barked a laugh at that and ruffled the kid’s hair again. It didn’t look too bad, but it was heavy from oil and debris. Maybe Hizashi could give him a cut later. “I want to, but we should be getting back.”

“Ah, okay!”

“And Izuku?”

“Yeah?” He said, looking up at Shouta through his long, colorless bangs and lashes.

“Thank you for the fighting tip.”

Midoriya smiled, but there was something fabricated about this one. “You’re not afraid to fight me, right?”

The question was so cut out of context that Shouta’s mind went blank. Midoriya must’ve sensed it because he began backpedaling.

“I-I mean, because of the last time and all. And because of what I am. And I wouldn’t want to lose it like last time or hurt you or anything… not that you’re not strong or skilled enough to defeat me! It's just...”

“No, kid.” Shouta sighed. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Midoriya’s eyes went dark behind colorless bangs. “You should be.”

Shouta did not often get chills, but in that moment, his entire spine had turned to ice.

Chapter 39: Sun and Shade

Chapter Text

“Katsuki, get up,” but his tone wasn’t the usual playful monotone he’d begun to use around Katsuki. It was something tighter. Hitoshi stayed at Katsuki’s house most nights now, and he’d had his fair share of strange awakenings, but this was different.

Katsuki sat up, groggy in confusion. “What,” he rubbed one eye as the other watched Hitoshi hop, frantically pulling his socks on. “What’s happened?”

He only received silence which quickly sobered him up from sleep and became a dizzying hangover of panic. Every terrible scenario ran through his head as he threw the covers off. Had something happened to Deku? To UA? Had they come back for him?

What if he’s done something?

The intrusive thought was so out of pocket it had the blond reeling. Of course Izuku hadn't done anything; he couldn’t hurt anyone because he was weak. Weak… the smell of blood and wet cement filled his nostrils. He had to stop spiraling. Katsuki shook his head, throwing on a sweatshirt and baggy cargo pants. Best not to assume anything until they had details.

“What happened?” Katsuki grunted again as he followed Hitoshi downstairs and to the door.

“Mrs. Midoriya… there was an accident yesterday. Nezu called and wants us at UA.”

Katsuki stopped, but Hitoshi had both his shoes on in a flash and was already dragging Katsuki out.

“Hold on!” He shouted because everything was moving too quickly and his shoes weren’t even on properly for f*cks sake. Hitoshi finally did slow down and, eyeing Katsuki’s failed attempt at keeping up, sunk to his knees before him. Katsuki blushed hard, the color near shameful in such circ*mstances, but alas he couldn’t help it. He was perfectly level with his-

Hitoshi stood up and grabbed his hand, dragging him out the door once more. Embarrassment quickened his heart and lightened his feet. Soon all he could feel was the twisting nausea of fear.

Beep, beep, beep.

The hospital equipment droned on mechanically. Beep. Pale skin. Beep. Closed eyes. Beep. Wires. A respirator. Fluid bags, hospital gown, IV. A bandage wrapped almost delicately around her brow did nothing to conceal the deep bruising encroaching on the outskirts of her face.

A mayo stand, empty and desolate, a void of silver, sat in the corner of what used to be the bedroom. She was still in the bunker, only it had been transformed into a hospital room. Bunker to home, home to hospital. How further would she slip down the slope?

“What happened,” was all Katsuki seemed to be able to say today. He sunk into a nearby chair, fingers laced into Hitoshi’s own. He’d been quiet ever since they’d left that morning, only saying a few words to Nezu and Katsuki when it was necessary.

Nezu stood off further to his right than Hitoshi did. “I think you know who did this,” the rat hummed, and Katsuki wanted to punch him for how casual he sounded, face expressionless under his white fur, eyes like spilled oil and ink sacs.

The blond grit his teeth, crimson irises like rings of fire. “But, why. ”

Nezu didn’t look at him, but then again Katsuki could never tell what he was looking at. Still, he thought they might be focused on Auntie Inko. Something rolled in his stomach.

“Nezu,” he tried, but there was no response. “Principal Nezu.” This time, he was sure the man looked at him because he turned his nose up at Katsuki. There was something sinister about the look, he was sure of it, but there were too many missing links for him to comprehend whatever was happening.

“Yes, Mr. Bakugo?” He said cheerfully, which took Katsuki aback. Had he been wrong?

Katsuki squeezed Hitoshi and his intertwined fingers just a bit tighter. “What. Happened.”

The blond thought he saw the corners of Nezu’s lips crook upwards for a split second, but then he turned back to face Izuku’s mother and the expression was gone. “He allowed a part of himself to slip out,” he told them as if he were relaying a report. “She couldn’t handle it, and in her panic, she slipped and hit her head.”

Bullsh*t , Katsuki wanted to cry, but he grit his teeth despite himself. What had slipped out? A monster?

Izuku, head tossed back, blood running off of him as rain pissed down upon them, corpse at his feet, blade in hand. Eyes cast so deep in shadow, hair like bleached vines grown over, emerald eyes hidden within. That was not his childhood friend, so perhaps she too hadn’t seen her son. Still, Katsuki desperately reasoned, it wasn't Izuku’s fault he was so messed up. That was the work of villains and - he swallowed guilt hard, adam’s apple bobbing dramatically - perhaps a little of Katsuki himself too.

The blond looked away and bit his lip. He could feel Shinso’s eyes on him, but neither of them said anything. When did Katsuki become so pathetically vulnerable? Quiet filled the room in a way that only the pumping and beeping of machines could do. Even the fluid bag, silent as the slow drip was, seemed to keep time like a wrist watch.

“When are they moving her to a hospital?” Katsuki asked when he couldn’t take the pounding silence any longer.

“Just as soon as All Might’s off duty. We wouldn’t want any… interruptions… on the journey there.”

“I don’t think anyone is after her.” He chided, feeling annoyance fester in the roots of his tone. “And besides, her case should be seen by doctors and nurses.”

“All Might insisted, and Recovery Girl is looking after her for now.”

Katsuki’s nose wrinkled. Sure Recovery Girl was good, but she was not a team of neurologists. Hell, she wasn’t a team of anything. She was a school nurse for f*ck’s sake!

“I want the best care for her just as much as everyone else, Mr. Bakugo. However there is only so much we can do at this time.”

Katsuki grit his teeth, yet relaxed a little when Hitoshi nudged him. Any other person, and he would have exploded because how dare they think he needed comforting. With Hitoshi, however, it felt different. Not only could he contain his anger, it was practically dispelled when he was around.

Bam! Boom!

Katsuki’s fist collided with the rock Hitoshi had tossed at him. It raced into the nearby concrete bridge and exploded on impact. After leaving UA, they had ended up at a less-trafficked area of a park obscured by vegetation. Despite it being in public, it was much more private than his own bedroom where his parent’s prying ears could encroach.

The blond lowered his steaming fist and growled. Technically this was illegal quirk use, but neither he nor Hitoshi were saying anything about it. Instead, his boyfriend just sat back against a tree and tossed the rocks that Katsuki decimated. Eventually, though, he got bored of it and stopped tossing the little stones all together.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked. He was always asking if Katsuki wanted to talk about his feelings. Katsuki did not, in fact, want to talk about it.

However he found himself doing so despite his aversion to it. “Why would Izuku do that,” he shouted as he picked up a stone from beside his foot and chucked it at the bridge as hard as he could.

Hitoshi sighed and rubbed his eyes. He’d gone from sitting to lying down in the spotted afternoon Sun. He looked downright ethereal and, if not for the circ*mstances, Katsuki would’ve joined him. Instead, the shade seemed too cool and the sun too hot. Glaring daggers, he stalked up and punched the stone bridge. Disappointingly, it did not crack under him, only his knucks came away damaged and Katsuki glared at the oozing blood.

“I’d tell you to stop hurting yourself,” Hitoshi called. “But that’s the way you relieve anger, right? Plus, then I’d be a hypocrite. I need a therapist, and you need anger management classes.”

"Yeah, I don’t think art n’ crafts and bingo are gonna cut it for me.”

Katsuki turned and suddenly, Hitoshi was right there, inches from his face. “Are you sure, gramps? Maybe quilting is more your speed?”

Katsuki wanted a retort, needed something as a comeback, but his mind went blank. The other boy’s messy purple hair floated in the gentle breeze as his eyes held in them a light that crystalized his violet irises. He was so beautiful and so close that Katsuki could smell his own soap on the other boy from when he’d showered the night before. The blond gulped, felt his face grow warm.

He took a step back, and Hitoshi took one forwards. Katsuki’s mouth hung open dumbly, and the other boy’s eyes honed in on it. And then…

Hitoshi kissed him with such force it had them both staggering backwards into the cool shade under the bridge. There Katsuki let his boyfriend push him up against the cement wall and pin his hips under his strong palms. At the same time, the blond’s own hands went to grip purple locs so tight it had Hitoshi moaning down his throat. To say they were kissing was generous because their teeth were clashing and biting roughly at one another, but damn it felt good to be ravaged. Wrecked. It was as if they were fighting in the best way possible.

Something wet rolled down his face and Hitoshi pulled back. “Are you crying?”

Katsuki tried to reach his lips, but Hitoshi pinned his wrists against the wall and leaned back. The blond pouted and wiped his face with his shoulder. “I’m not crying,” he choked, feeling more tears roll down his blistering cheeks.

Hitoshi pulled back even more. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Stop asking that,” he growled.

“Hey, communication is key,” Hitoshi deadpanned with a smirk. They both knew why he was crying, but neither wanted to truly acknowledge it. For once he’d like to ignore all the sh*t in their lives and live in the moment.

“Talk later, kiss me now,” the blond growled. Perhaps it wasn’t the responsible or healthy decision, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about anything other than the boy in front of him at the moment.

Hitoshi obliged silently and pressed up fully against the blond so that the only thing separating them was tight fabric.

“f*ck, yes,” Katsuki moaned into his mouth and everything melted away. A part of him was sickened by himself, but he needed this more than anything right now. More than rocks and nightmares and fire-hot anger that he could hardly contain anymore.

Perhaps a part of him just wanted to be lost for a minute, to escape the mess that they both had both fallen into. Perhaps the two of them just wanted to be normal teenagers before even that came crumbling down.

Chapter 40: Flowers

Chapter Text

Chapter 41: Dust Over Light

Chapter Text

That night, Shouta and Izuku sparred so that the hero could gauge where exactly he was in hand-to-hand combat skills. The kid was quieter than usual, and yet he wasn’t pulling any punches. Shouta could handle him, but with his raw strength alone, he thought he might lose if the kid actually wanted to fight like he did the first night they’d met.

The corners of Shouta’s mouth crooks up just as he dodges another frontal attack from Midoriya, all too late realizing it was a trap by the time the kid’s leg flashes out at light speed to sweep Shouta’s leg out from under him as he’s thrown off balance mid-dodge. He curses as he catches himself on the ground. But just as soon as he arrives there, he’s being picked up and thrown against the metal wall. He grunts as he hits it and slides down. They’re practicing in an abandoned warehouse, and the echo carries throughout it, sound warping into unintelligible garble.

Shouta shakes the shock from his head. Something felt very real about that throw and, when Shouta looks up, he finds the cold hard stare of Two, his tattoo sucking all the light out of the flickering industrial fixtures above them. Even some from the outside street lamps and far-off house lights seem drawn in like moths to a flame. He’s not even breathing hard, just standing rigid and expressionless. Something deep inside Shouta tells him something’s wrong, because somehow they were no longer sparing. Still, the hero swallows his fear and stands; he’d like to see where this was heading, and perhaps why Midoriya found himself slipping back into his old ways. They were going to work through this, but in the way Midoriya unknowingly chose.

“Are you angry about your mother?” Shouta said as Midoriya rushed him with absolutely no hesitation even after hearing Shouta’s question. He swung at him with strength that should’ve been impossible for someone of his disposition. Shouta caught his arm, but he drop kicked him, rebounding off Shouta’s midsection and flipping into a low crouch. Then he instantly closed that distance, launching forwards once again.

His fighting style was animalistic. Unrefined. And yet, somehow it worked. It was so unpredictable and ruthless that Shouta had to worry how he’d developed it.

I killed things like me - the failed experiments.

Shouta shifted his weight and leaped backwards and, quick as ever, Midoriya anticipated the retreat and flew after him, shifting his own weight for what Shouta now knew would be a leg attack.

Izuku flew forwards, forgetting to listen to whatever Eraser Head had said. The hero may have been older and much more experienced, but there were patterns to him just like everyone else. He also held the disadvantage in this fight even if they weren’t allowed to use quirks - not that either of their quirks would be useful on each other anyways - because Izuku had been physically enhanced. He was quite literally made to fight until he died, but he’d already proven that he couldn’t die by any ordinary means.

Izuku swung his leg in a low kick, but Eraser caught it and used his other hand to slam Izuku’s head into the ground. It would have been a bit ruthless had Izuku not had Kacchan growing up, but then again he’d done the same to the hero just moments before. He groaned and pushed himself up. His nose had broken, then corrected itself and rehealed, but it’d still left behind streaks of thick blood on his dusty face that dripped off onto the floor.

“You need a minute, kid,” Aizawa grumbled, leaning against the wall and cradling his ribs. Hopefully Izuku hadn’t broken anything on the hero.

“You okay?” Izuku answered, getting to his feet. “Seems like you're the one who needs a minute.”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, dropping his arm and hissing. “But we’re gonna have to work on your form.”

Izuku let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah, I know it’s a bit unconventional.”

Aizawa shrugged, then assumed a ready stance. “C’mon, I’ll teach you them.”

Izuku’s heart skipped. No one, not even All for One had taught him how to properly fight. Disbelief entered his veins and his expression dropped. Once again, the whispers began to creep closer, but Izuku did his best to ignore them. “You sure you want to weaponize a convict?”

Aizawa stared hard into him, drilled inside and left Izuku feeling exposed under his gaze. “Of course. You’re my student, and I will teach you in the best way I know how. It is your choice what to do with it, but I have faith that you will use it for good.”

A moment passed between them where Izuku couldn’t speak, couldn’t breath . Confusion hung like the dust particles in the air. Like the flickering lights and the muddy, congealed blood that stuck to the ground like glue. When he was finally able to open his mouth again, his voice was embarrassingly shaky. It was incredible the weight just a few formed sounds in the air could have. Izuku’s throat was tight and anger pulsed within him. “How can you be so sure I won’t use this against you. That I won’t hurt more people. You should enable people like me.”

“Because,” Shouta said. “Of what you could control in your past, you acted in good faith.”

Izuku wrinkled his nose as the voices crept closer, clawing at him. No, he was a bad person. A bad-

“And I believe you suffer so much because you hold on to the lives you could never save.”

You’re wrong! He wanted to shout, but he’d lost his voice. Instead, he just looked away as tears began falling down his cheeks, cutting the dust in much the same way the blood had. Old habits die hard, and it wasn’t like they’d sealed his tear ducts.

“Izuku-”

“I know I couldn’t save them, okay?”

“Do you feel not being able to makes you guilty of their deaths?”

“I-” Izuku cut himself off, unsure how to continue. “I couldn’t do anything, okay?”

“I know.”

The anger boiled up higher within him. “How could you know? Truly know what it was like for us?” Us. He caught himself; he was the only surviving one as far as he knew.

Aizawa shook his head. “I don’t, but what I do know is that being a hero means you save lives, but you also lose them. I hold onto everyone I couldn’t save.”

He’d said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, when in reality it was the side of hero work no one ever talked about. Lives lost, victims, bystanders. Izuku couldn’t remember the last time deaths like those were directly linked to a hero or agency; they were usually celebrated for the lives they saved and, if that number was lower than the death count, then it would be labeled as a tragedy orchestrated by villains. A massacre. Another reason to lock people like Izuku up.

“Listen, I’m no doctor, so I cannot clinically counsel you - we will be assigning you a psychologist - but I can give you advice based on my own experience.”

Izuku swallowed hard, the noise embarrassingly audible in the empty warehouse.

“Like I’ve said, I lost a good friend back when I was still in school. He,” Aizawa swallowed, “he was an incredibly kind person. I mean, he took me in.” He teased, but there was little humor in his words. “He was always pushing himself, and it was incredible, but one day that heroic attitude is what became his downfall. We were on the same work study, and he got caught up in a collapsing building. Not even a body remained.”

“Aizawa I-”

But the man held up a hand, cutting Izuku off. “After it, I was so angry - angry at him for running into that unstable building to save people, angry at myself for not stopping him. God, Izuku I was so angry. I hated that the hero supervising us hadn’t been able to keep us safe, and that so many systems of safety had failed. Failed us, and in the end, killed him.”

Aizawa sighed. “My point is, everyone experiences grief and, while I did not live your exact experience, I have experiences of my own that allow me to sympathize.

Izuku kept his eyes fixed on the ground. Trauma was not something to be weighed against trauma; it was made to be weighed against that individual’s constitution. Izuku had no right to judge someone else in such a way only to minimize that person’s feelings.

“I’m angry,” he mumbled.

“What-”

“I’m angry!” Tears burst from his eyes and he pounded his fist into the nearby wall. When he pulled away, there was a noticeable dent. “And I’ve never been so angry, and I don’t know what to do. I hate who I am, what I’ve become and this body I inhabit. I hate that I feel I’ve lost total control of my life-”

Aizawa began to approach him, slowly and with his arms extended to the sides.

“And I hate how everyone is so worried about me when they should be hunting down the doctor and All for One. What if there’s another me in those laboratory cages?”

Aizawa gently embraced Izuku, projecting his movements and giving him time to back out, but Izuku didn’t. Instead, he sobbed into his chest. After a while, Aizawa brought his hand up to Izuku’s newly-cut hair and ran his fingers gently through the strands.

“Izuku, you said that I should be afraid of you. Can you tell me why?” He felt the boy stiffen, but he didn’t pull away.

“I just- When I lose control, people get hurt.”

“What do you mean, lose control?” In truth, Izuku knew Aizawa already knew, but he supposed that the act of talking was the goal here.

“When I’m no longer the person in control of my body - this body.” He looked at his scarred hands. “You know, like the night I tried to kill you, or with Mom…or I guess I was conscious in both those cases, but I was powerless to stop myself.”

“Well, we can’t change the past, but I can teach you to control whatever it is you need to control.”

Izuku pulled back a little. “Well, I don’t think I can learn before the start of the new semester…”

“Kid, you’re gonna be in my class and I guarantee you none of your classmates know how to fully control their quirks.”

Izuku was still unsure, but he nodded anyway. “But they all deserve to be there… I don’t want to take someone’s seat.”

“Izuku, it’s fine,” his teacher sighed. “We’re adding a seat just for you.”

An odd combination of guilt and excitement filled him then, the latter being something of a rarity nowadays. “Okay,” he said, trying to hold back a soft smile. “I’ll do it.”

“That’s good,” Aizawa replied with a smirk, ruffling Izuku’s hair. “Because you don’t have a choice.”

For the first time, it felt nice not to have a choice.

Chapter 42: First Day

Chapter Text

Izuku stood at the big, blue gates that framed UA. In gold lettering, the “A” nested itself into the “U” in a combination Izuku had dreamed of and, having dreamed of so often, it had become a fantasy. And yet, here he was, standing at those mythical gates turning fantasy into reality. Behind them towered the glassy buildings that reflected the sky which held in it children’s hope and passion.

When he’d been here before, he hadn’t gotten to see the school from this angle - it had been night when they’d left it for Aizawa and Yamada’s home, and he didn’t remember actually arriving at the school - but he decided that this was the first impression he wanted. He smiled as the first tendrils of sunlight brushed sparkles across its surface like morning dew.

Besides Aizawa standing close behind him, there was an utter lack of life. It was still early, after all, but that didn’t stop Izuku from grinning embarrassingly wide in his UA uniform. Thankfully Nezu hadn’t made him wear that convict uniform, but he did have to wear a small ankle monitor that he’d somehow gotten to fit snugly under his pants leg. He’d also been allowed to cover his neck tattoo which he did so with a long, white bandage and a black undershirt. It was a high turtleneck with long sleeves, but it couldn’t hide the fact he was hiding something. Perhaps he looked a little shady, but people weren’t looking for a villain at a prestigious school for heroes, so he’d probably be fine…

“You ready, kid?” Aizawa grumbled from behind him. Without looking, Izuku nodded and kept his eyes focused on those gates as if by looking away, all of this would disappear like one of All for One’s illusions and become fantasy once again. Hesitantly, he took one step, then another, and by the time he passed under the arch, all those feelings of guilt and regret had become blanketed by excitement.

A part of himself cruelly reminded him that he didn’t deserve to be here, but that part of himself he hated so much had gotten him where he was, and to that he was grateful. Luckily for Izuku, first days at new schools always bolstered some magic and promised a fresh start. For Izuku, it was his lifeline to a not so bleak future.

Izuku sat in the back at the extra desk that had been set up just for him. The first people to arrive were, coincidently, Bakugo and Hitoshi. Izuku wondered if they’d had a meeting with Nezu earlier that morning, which was certainly likely after Izuku and Bakugo’s conversation after Izuku had defeated the zero pointer. When they walked in, Bakugo rubbed sleep from his eyes as Hitoshi began speaking to Aizawa about taking extra lessons to learn his capture weapon’s technique. Izuku was about to join in the conversation when Bakugo noticed him and his eyes did something funny: They darted away. They darted away instead of him holding his gaze and he turned back to Aizawa.

Well, that was new. Izuku had never known Bakugo to so blatantly turn down a challenge - he viewed eye contact as a competition, or at least he had - and towards Izuku no less. Something was wrong, it had to be. Izuku got up quietly and walked up to the blond’s back, then peeked out around his side.

“Are you okay Kacchan?”

Bakugo jumped, literally jumped and turned to face Izuku, frowning down at him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Izuku tilted his head, contemplating that statement when voices echoed down the hall. His eyes flicked to the doorway in a sudden bout of anxiety.

“Relax nerd,” the blond deadpanned as he pushed him aside to go find a seat. “They don’t know.”

Know. It held such a vague insinuation, and yet Izuku knew exactly what he had meant by it. Shinsou watched him go, then leaned down so that they could talk on close to the same level (damn his height.)

“You’ll be okay, Midoriya,” he said in his usual depressed tone, but there was a spark in his eyes. “And if you need anything this juice vampire-” he jabbed a thumb back at Aizawa who was in fact draining a juice box for whatever reason- “can’t help you, then you can come to us.”

Izuku looked back at Bakugo for confirmation, but the blond had put his feet up, crossed his arms, and was looking out the window, so Izuku turned back to Shinsou and nodded.

“Thank you,” he hummed just as the first students began filtering in.

Izuku’s heart nearly stopped when he saw him. He’d known that famous heroes’ kids would be here. He’d known that. What he did not expect to see was a sickeningly familiar face. His hair was a fresh shade of crimson now, but Izuku had remembered those eyes. At a time in his life where all he knew was pain, they were genuinely kind.

I’m going to go to UA! The words Kirishima had spoken to him popped into his head. Of course Izuku had acknowledged the possibility of going to class with him, but most people who said that never made it in! A part of him wished he’d been mistaken, but perhaps an even bigger part of himself was happy that he’d followed through with that dream. Unlike Izuku, he worked hard to get here. And besides, Izuku held onto that one meaningful interaction like it was a lifeline to his former life, to some semblance of normalcy. Wasn’t hope the foundation of heroism?

He smiled as he watched the teen walk through the door with a girl, but a knot of anxiety curled deep in his gut. They’d met during one of his failed assassination missions, so would Kirishima remember him? Remember his face? His name? Who else had seen Izuku that could potentially jeopardize his place here?

All Izuku’s nightmares came true when Kirishima noticed him and a bright, toothy smile spread across his face. “Hey man, I remember you from Musutafu!”

Izuku was going to seriously pull out his hair, and it was shorter now so it would definitely leave patches. Izuku glanced behind the desk in one last fleeting hope, but it seemed Aizawa had disappeared. sh*t.

“What was your name again?” And, to Izuku’s horror, he was coming closer. “Shoe?”

The girl elbowed him. “His name is not Shoe, you idiot.” Kirishima winced, but the interaction was almost playful as if they already knew each other.

“Oh wait! I remember now, it was-”

“Midoriya!” Izuku panic-shouted perhaps a bit too loudly. “Izuku Midoriya.”

They stared at him a moment, then the pink girl - she was a curious combination of pink - smiled and smugly nudged her apologetic friend. He scratched the back of his head and smiled again. “Yeah, definitely terrible at remembering names, but hey glad to see you looking better!”

Izuku nodded. He did look better and emotionally he was a stark contrast to the paranoid and jumpy kid that Kirishima had met. As he smiled down at Izuku, he couldn’t help but remember how close he’d come to killing the other teen. He obviously hadn’t realized it either, otherwise he wouldn’t be talking to Izuku like it was a fond memory to reminisce on.

“Yeah, good to see that you made it in,” Izuku smiled, but it fell flat. Kirishima hadn’t seemed to notice however, and continued.

“Hey, thanks man! Speaking of which, which testing arena were you in? I don’t remember you.”

“I got in on recommendation,” he lied as smoothly as he told the truth, his old stutter a ghost on his tongue.

“Oh I heard those tests were much different! What sort of things did they make-”

“Alright, move it sh*tty hair,” Bakugo interrupted as he pushed through the two to stand in front of Izuku. “We need to talk. Now. Let's go.”

Izuku glared at him, but got up anyways before the blond could haul him up himself. As they made their way out of the room, Izuku could feel eyes on him, but he resisted that itch to look and instead kept his head down.

“Stop looking like a half-assed criminal,” Bakugo grumbled back at him.

“f*ck you,” Izuku snarled, earning a grin of surprise from the blond.

Neither of them said anything until they’d passed over the threshold of the classroom. Aizawa’s desk was still vacant, making Izuku wonder where his teacher had slunk off to. He had to have been near enough to watch him, but where that was exactly, Izuku couldn’t say.

“We have a problem,” Bakugo whispered out loudly.

Izuku’s stomach dropped and he glanced around before dragging Bakugo a little further from the door. “What do you mean we have a problem?”

“Endeavor’s kid is here.”

“I mean, I’d assume so-”

“Endeavor was on the case, or at least a small portion of it.”

“Yeah, but it's confidential. How would his son know?”

Bakugo shrugged. “I found out, didn’t I?”

Izuku’s eyes flicked over to a few students floating in through the door, but his fears were unwarranted because they were clearly deep in excited chatter.

“Yeah, well not everyone’s like you,” he bit back.

The blond smirked and shrugged again. “I know, I’m the best.”

Izuku rolled his eyes and peeked around the other boy’s body again to see if there were any prying eyes, but there weren’t any. “Listen, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I don’t think he knows anything, but Kirishima does, which is an entirely new issue.”

“sh*tty hair?”

“Yeah. He bumped into me on one of my jobs. I don’t think he’s linked any criminal behavior yet, but he’s met me before.”

Bakugo wrinkled his nose, but Izuku didn’t think it was directed at him. It was just like at the entrance exam where he’d said how he’d kill whomever had done this to Izuku. It was as if he felt personally responsible for what had happened. Now it seemed he hated anyone who might threaten Izuku’s place here with such a passion it confused Izuku, because was the blame and anger not misplaced? Shouldn’t Izuku shoulder some of that burden for being unable to stop himself, to stop anything from happening the way it had?

“Like I said, it’s fine- Oh sh*t,” Izuku cut himself off just as he noticed the third major problem of the morning.

“What- Oh.” The blond turned to see what Izuku was looking at as the brown haired girl with a bob and the uptight glasses boy approached, speaking quietly, eyes darting about. Izuku had been warned about them during the debriefing because apparently they had stood witness to Izuku’s attack on the Zero Pointer. Ochako Uraraka and Tenya Iida, right? The first wasn’t too worrisome, but the second… The Iidas were a family of heroes, some of which Izuku was sure had heard his case, or at least rumors of it, which was not ideal. Apparently Nezu had spoken to them, but judging by the way their eyes looked past Bakugo and clung to Izuku, they had no intention of simply forgetting the event.

When the girl picked up her pace towards him, Bakugo moved to block her view and Iida grabbed her wrist.

“C’mon,” Iida muttered, avoiding Izuku’s eye. He gave a slight tug, but she didn’t move.

“Wait,” Uraraka shouted. Izuku peeked around Bakugo curiously because she didn’t necessarily sound upset.

“Thank you!” She cried. “Thank you for saving us!”

Oh, Izuku hadn’t expected that. Why wasn’t she scared or nervous like Iida? Hold on, why was she grateful to begin with? Izuku was far from noble and deserving of her praise, and yet…

“It was really no trouble,” he muttered, shrinking behind Bakugo again. “I’m sorry I interrupted your test.”

“Hey, let’s go ,” Iida urged once more.

“No!” She yanked her hand out of his grasp, but he made no move to leave her alone. Iida was right to be protective, but it still hurt. The other boy’s fear was justified, but a part of Izuku still shriveled further up inside him in such a show of distrust. He wouldn’t do anything to her, not here or anywhere else. He wasn’t monstrous, and yet, perhaps he still looked like a monster.

“Midoriya,” she said with a confidence that was somehow equally soft. “You saved not only our lives, but the lives of countless other kids from a tragic accident.”

Izuku did not correct her in saying that if he’d not been there, it never would’ve happened because the students would never have been used by All for One to flush Izuku out. He allowed whatever remained of his pale bangs to fall over his eyes. He didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything because really what was there to be spoken that was agreed to be unspoken. What could Izuku say that wouldn’t make him sound egotistical or self incriminating? In the end, he could only say a few words.

“Yeah, and that seems all I can do right.” He didn’t look at her, and she didn’t say anything back. When the minute bell rang, the pair shuffled in without another word.

“Good going, Nerd.” But it wasn’t in Bakugo’s usual teasing or patronizing voice. It was something halfway between genuine and sarcastic.

Izuku ignored him all the same and shuffled in with the rest of the stragglers. Aizawa, whom had at some time obtained a jelly packet and, from the way the plastic wrinkled and folded into river morphology, had nearly sucked it dry. He slipped in with the other students, but no one else had seemed to notice him as he slunk back into his sleeping bag at the front of the class.

Izuku took his seat again, watching how, when the final bell had rung, a low murmur took up the once excited chatter.

“Where’s the teacher?” Izuku heard one boy ask. Confused, Izuku looked back up at the front and sure enough, there was their teacher in his yellow caterpillar form. He looked to Bakugo and Shinsou just to make sure he wasn’t imagining their teacher since apparently no one else saw him, but they met him with kindred confusion. Did nobody but the three of them notice Aizawa in his bright yellow sleeping bag? How? It was so obvious. Before he could say anything, the caterpillar arose.

“You all fail!” He smiled wickedly, peeling himself out from his chrysalis. The class’ eyes locked onto him immediately with some students even gasping in surprise like kids watching a street magician, or like children with no object permanence. “If I were a villain, you would all be dead.”

Izuku glanced away only to catch mismatched eyes on him. Aizawa continued to lecture the class, but those narrowed eyes never left Izuku's own. Shoto Todoroki. He was one of the students he was warned to watch out for seeing as his father was the number two hero.

Aizawa was just finishing his lecture when Izuku finally looked away. He could still feel those icy-hot eyes drilling into his very soul as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand.