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oyasumi midoriya

Chapter Text

The following is a transcript of a conversation in a police station regarding the quirk of subject Midoriya Izuku. 

 

 

 

Alright, I’ve done some research on him, and here’s what’ve got. 

 

Go on.

 

(Clears throat) The first accident occurred when Izuku Midoriya was five years old. 

 

He’d been diagnosed with quirklessness. He had no sign of a quirk. Nothing.

 

But one day, he’d been out and about, chasing his friends, when something happened. 

 

The witnesses were Tsubasa Yamada, Shouma Kimiyo, and Katsuki Bakugou.

 

From the witness accounts, what appears to have happened is that they were attacked by a villain. The villains name was Kokoru Kanba, aka Oxide, and his quirk was oxygen manipulation. He had attacked the boys by dragging the oxygen out of their lungs, and had started to suck the moisture out of Katsuki Bakugou’s skin. But somehow, the villain’s head spontaneously combusted.

 

How this happened is a mystery. All three boys quirks couldn’t have done this. Tsubasa’s quirk was wings, Kimiyo’s quirk was finger extension, and Bakugou’s quirk was explosion, but he was unconscious during the scene. The only other person present was Midoriya Izuku. 

 

Are you saying that he did it?

 

It makes sense. 

 

...

 

Think about what we saw. The footage from the entrance exam. The battle exercises. The incident at the USJ. 

 

It still doesn’t explain what his quirk is! 

 

I know. But at least we have proof that he’s had his quirk for a while.

 

This whole thing is bizarre. Have you interviewed the witnesses yet?

 

The only one who we were able to get a hold of was Katsuki Bakugou. The other two have been missing for about four years. 

 

...That can’t be a coincidence.

 

I don’t think it is either.

 

So what should we do?

 

I’m not sure. Midoriya doesn’t seem to be too unstable. I think it might be better if we just sit and observe. 

 

I don’t know-

 

He’s in UA, right? Aren’t you teaching him? 

 

...

 

Try and get closer to him. See if you can find out what his mental state is.

 

I still think we should get some help.

 

I don’t think it’s as bad as you think. He’s a kid with a powerful quirk, who cares?

 

It’s not just powerful - I’m not even sure how to put it. It’s one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever seen.

 

Surely it can’t be that bad. 

 

You weren’t there when I fought him. You didn’t see what happened to Shigaraki. He’s dangerous, to us and himself. He can’t keep using his quirk like this - there’s got to be a better way-

 

I can’t do anything. My hands are tied.

 

...

 

Look, if you’re that worried, make him go to quirk counseling or something.

 

It’s not that simple.

 

Then I’ve got nothing.

 

...

 

Thank you for your time.

 

No problem. Oh- if anything strange does happe-

 

 

 

It is at this point where all feed was cut off. When it came back on, the two officials were gone.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

“Oh yeah, Midoriya’s applying to UA too, right?”

 

The words cut through the insistent buzzing in Midoriya’s head, his frayed attention cutting back to what was going on. The entire class was staring at him.

 

Then the whispers started. 

 

“Midoriya? No way, he’s so creepy...”

 

“They’d let someone like him into the hero course?”

 

“Heroes don’t freak people out. He couldn’t be a hero if he wanted to.”

 

Then, a hand slammed down against Midoriya’s desk, a ringing explosion sending him backwards, the familliar routine playing out before him.

 

“What the fuck!” The loud shouting of his classmate, Bakugou Katsuki, made him flinch. Midoriya hated loud sounds.

 

“You think you can stand up to the best of the best?! To ME?! Think again shitweed!”

 

“It’s just a high school application, Bakugou.” Midoriya said, unfazed by this common occurrence. “It’s not a direct threat to your existence.”

 

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DAMN NERD?!” He grabbed Midoriya by the collar, but was interrupted by the teacher’s quiet coughing.

 

Bakugou threw Midoriya back down. “I’m not done with you.” He spat.

 

Midoriya’s expression didn’t change, his eyes already back to glazed and unfocused. Bakugou sneered, and stomped back to his desk.

 

Can I be a hero, even without a quirk?

 

His thoughts usually circled back to that.

 

 

 

His X-rays check out... but Ms-“

 

“Mrs.” Inko said firmly.

 

“Mrs. Midoriya-He doesn’t show any sign of manifestation. Perhaps he has an invisible quirk.”

 

“But shouldn’t he have gotten something like mine?!” Inko cried out. The doctor shook his head. 

 

“That’s not always the case, Mrs. Midoriya. I’m sorry.” 

 

Inko angrily stormed out of the doctors office, a five year old Midoriya in tow.

 

“C’mon, sweetie. Let’s find us a better doctor.”

 

Midoriya, at his young age, could still recognize denial when he saw it. He vaguely wondered why his mother was more upset about this then he was. 

 

 

 

 

“We’re not done, DEKU.”

 

The harsh, gravely tone of Bakugou cut threw the static in Midoriya’s mind. He slowly turned, and saw Bakugou leering above him, holding his notebook in his hands. Midoriya ignored him, and resumed packing his school things.

 

“Did you hear me?!” Bakugou grabbed him by his collar and yanked him against the wall, hands steaming. Midoriya could feel the heat against his face, and his normally cold expression slipped into one of fear and slight panic.

 

“What did I do?” Midoriya squeaked, the buzzing in his head becoming increasingly loud.

 

“You think you’re better then me.” Bakugou growled, grip tightening on Midoriya’s collar. “And now, you’re going to pay for that.”

 

“What makes you think I think I’m better then you?” Midoriya stated, some of his usual calm washing over him.

 

“You’re challenging me!” He pushed harder, and the collar started to smoke. “I’m gonna be the only one in this shitty school to get into UA, hear me?!”

 

“You-don’t know that.” Midoriya mumbled. Bakugou scowled, baring teeth. 

 

“I DO! You know why?! Because I’M BETTER.” His lackeys backed off, knowing not to get in the way when Bakugou got like this.

 

“Says who?” Midoriya knew he was poking a bear with a stick, but the only weapon he had was his words. He had to fight back. Confuse him. It was the only way to win against Bakugou.

 

“SAYS-says everyone!” Bakugou hissed, confused.

 

“You two-“ Midoriya suddenly raised his right hand, pointing to the lackeys, who flinched at his icy gaze. “Do you think Bakugou is better then me?”

 

They looked confused at the question. “Uh-duh?” One of them mumbled. “Anyone’s better then you-“

 

“Overall, as a person.” The two of them froze. “As a human being, not just in terms of power, do you think Bakugou’s better then me?” 

 

The lackeys shuffled uncomfortably, knowing that yes, Midoriya was a nicer person then Bakugou, but not wanting to say that in front of their steaming leader. 

 

“Exactly.” Midoriya turned back to Bakugou’s face, twisted in silent fury, but knowing he couldn’t do anything, since it’d just prove his point that he was a bad person. “You’re no better then I am, Kacchan.” The childhood nickname slipped out at habit. “Now would you please let me go?”

 

Bakugou sniffed, not wanting to admit defeat, and threw Midoriya down to the floor. “‘S not worth my time.” He muttered, and stalked out the door, the terrified duo following behind him.

 

Midoriya sighed, seeing the slightly charred notebook on his desk. At least he hadn’t done anything too bad. He’d gotten off with no bruising or injuries. That was an improvement, at least.

 

 

 

Of course, life was never that simple.

 

 

 

On his way home, he’d decided to take the long route, darting under passageways and bridges to try and avoid Kacchan and his gang. The buzzing in his head seemed even louder then before.

 

He wondered why that was.

 

He wondered why the aching in his gut was even stronger then before.

 

He wondered why the blood in his body seemed to direct itself to the back of his head. 

 

 

And he definitely was curious about the splattering sound behind him.

 

 

Midoriya turned, to see a big smattering of sludge on the walls, the thick slime dripping down on to the street. It smelled putrid, a combination of sewer sludge, dirty toilet water, and something metallic. Vaguely, if he squinted, the splattering was shaped almost like the silhouette of a person.

 

“Ick.” He mumbled, turned around and continued on his way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All Might swooped into the sewer, chairing after the sludge villain he’d spotted escaping from a store. He’d tracked him down to this bridge, and at first, it looked as if he’d escaped.

 

But then, he smelled it.

 

Blood, and sewer water.

 

 

The splattered remains of the sludge villain were scattered all over the underside of the bridge. All Might gasped.

 

“Who could’ve...” he looked around the area, but no one was in sight. Sighing, he let himself deflate, and walked over to observe the mess.

 

Unlike when the sludge villain normally separated, the eyes seemed to have been blown off, the only remnants of it being the dark red stains on the wall. From what it looked like, someone had blown him up. 

 

But who?

 

Who’s quirk was strong enough to do that?

 

 

Then, he saw someone sitting on a bench. It was a small, scrawny boy, with a mop of green hair and freckles. He was staring off into space, a crooked grin on his face.

 

“Excuse me-“ All Might trotted over to where the boy was sitting. The boy turned, grinning even wider (if that were even possible) when he caught sight of him.

 

“Hello sir!” The boy exclaimed, a strange lilt to his voice. All Might frowned. 

 

“Have you see anyone come through there?” He pointed to the slimey underpass, and the boy laughed, a wheezy sound.

 

“Only person to come through there was me-and you, I guess. Is your quirk disguise? I saw you as All Might, but then you deflated.”

 

All Might flinched. He realized that that boy had seen. 

 

“Y-yes. That’s my quirk.”

 

“You’re not supposed to use it unless you’ve got a liscense you know.” The boy’s unnerving grin never faltered, and All Might felt something squirm inside of his stomach.

 

“Well-“

 

“It’s okay!” The boy smiled, baring canines, “This can be our little secret. After all, what they don’t know won’t kill them, right?”

 

All Might swallowed. “Yes-I suppose-“

 

“But you should probably clean that up.” The boy pointed to the sludge villain’s remains. “It’s stinking up the whole place.”

 

“I-“

 

“Gotta go Toshinori! See you!” The boy darted into the shadows, giving All Might just enough time to realize that he’d used his real name.

 

“Hold up-“ All Might ran into the alley that’s the boy had run into.

 

It was empty.

 

All Might felt a sickening swoop of dread in his stomach, one fact becoming increasingly apparent to him.

 

 

He knows.

Chapter Text

“Hi sweetie! How was your day?” Inko’s chipper voice range out from the kitchen, where Midoriya could smell the miso soup cooking. 

 

“It was fine.” He replied, setting his bag down, and taking his backpack off. “Kacchan was being rude again, so I told him off.” 

 

Inko sniffed, looking mildly concerned. “I’m sorry honey. Is there anything I can do?”

 

“No.” Midoriya sighed. His brain was on autopilot. This was almost a daily conversation with his mom, a routine of some sorts. He and his mom both knew that there was nothing that they could do, as Bakugou’s mother refused to take account for his son’s behavior. 

 

“Other then that, nothing really happened.” He mumbled, heading upstairs. “The bridge was slimey.”

 

Inko nodded, not really listening. She never really listened.

 

 

When Midoriya got up to his room, he flopped on to his bed, and pulled out his slightly charred notebook. #13, it read. He opened it up to the latest page, and started writing.

 

Things that happened today

 

Midoriya set down the pencil, unsure of what to write next. True, the notebooks were all on quirks, but number thirteen specifically focused on his quirk. 

 

For most of his life, Midoriya knew he had a quirk of some kind. But he didn’t know what it was. He just knew it was there. His mother did too, try as she may to deny it. They both knew.

 

 

Midoriya haphazardly recorded quirks. Quirks fascinated him, since his childhood onward. What really fascinated him was why everyone seemed to measure value in quirks. Maybe it was the flashiness, or the superhuman factors, but people seemed to be blinded to the fact that quirks really do more harm then good. Not that Midoriya was one to judge. Most of the time, he was on the outside looking in. He just couldn’t bring himself to make friends, not with so many different factors to weigh in, and things to keep track of and keep in account.

 

No. It was better to watch from the sidelines, wait until you knew enough to not make a complete fool of yourself. 

 

Watch. Wait. Gather strength and courage.

 

Only the can you strike.

 

 

 

Midoriya put the pen to the paper, and started to write about the strange thing that had happened under the bridge, his mind in another place.

 

Lots of sludge-maybe someone with a quirk that could produce slime?? 

 

That doesn’t explain why it was there, maybe the sewer exploded. And it doesn’t explain why it smelled so funny. Almost like 

 

 

 

Blood.

 

 

 

 

 

No one noticed the tiny boy, frantically scrambling to get somewhere. No one noticed his harsh breathing, and wide, panicked eyes. The only thing people really noticed was a blur of green and black.

 

Midoriya skidded to a vault at the bridge, staring into the gloom. The walls were immaculate, the sludge all gone.

 

Midoriya dropped his flashlight.

 

“No way.. it was here earlier... and no one ever cleans up around here-“ he picked his flashlight back up and shone the beam into the darkness, the white beam piercing through the black, showing pristine walls and clean pavement.

 

Midoriya shook his head at this sight. No one ever came through here. And no one ever cleaned up. This was...

 

Then, Midoriya noticed something. The sewer lid was turned the other way, backwards from how it normally was. He frowned. 

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Which meant that someone had gone down there.

 

 

 

Midoriya slid down the ladder of the sewer, his hands sweaty as he squinted into the darkness. “H-hello?” He mumbled, then immediately regretted it. If there was someone dangerous down here, the worst thing to do is to give away where you were. Midoriya had seen enough murder documentaries to know that. 

 

Sure enough, a trail of dried slime trailed down the side of the wall. There was no blood smell, but there were a few crumpled dollar bills strewn about on the ground. Midoriya picked one up. It was covered with the same cruddy slime that the wall and the bridge were coated in as well. 

 

“But where did the dollar bills come from?” Midoriya mumbled. “Maybe the slime person mugged someone...but then, where’s the other person?”

 

Where ever they were, they certainly weren’t in the sewer. The place was abandoned, Midoriya was sure of that. 

 

 

 

When Midoriya snuck back into his house, hair a mess and stinking of sewer, he decided the optimal use of his time would be to take a shower. 

 

The water dropped down his greasy face, settling his mind a little. Whatever had happened, it clearly didn’t concern him, so he’d try and put it out of his mind.

 

When he was done, he stumbled back into his room, a few seconds away from collapsing on his bed and passing out. But a beeping sound stopped him.

 

It was coming from his computer.

 

 

Midoriya turned. The screen of the computer was pitch black, except for a small, flashing underscore in the top right corner of the screen. 

 

Then, it began to type.

 

Hello. 

 

Midoriya scrambled over to the computer, and began to type back.

 

Who are you????????

 

He made sure to put in as many question marks as possible. 

 

You.

 

Midoriya stared at the screen.

 

You in here. <-

 

His fingers moved of their own accord, typing out an answer as his brain tried to absorb this new information.

 

In the computer???

 

\/ 

 

He assumed that was a check mark.

 

What does that mean?

 

If we don’t think it has a meaning, it doesn’t.

 

He frowned.

 

That’s vague.

 

We are vague.

 

Not I. Not you. We.

 

The answer we’re looking for is at UA.

 

Midoriya tilted his head in confusion. “UA?” He mumbled out loud.

 

Yes. UA. The school.

 

He vaguely realized that the person could hear him.

 

If we want an answer to the question, go to UA. I bet people can help us.

 

“Help me? ...But what do I need help with?” 

 

What does this half think?

 

“My quirk?” 

 

Among other things. But this all centers back to us. And trust us, the slime? It’s got everything to do with us. And All Might.

 

“All Might?”

 

We saw him today.

 

Midoriya dropped the computer mouse. 

 

We know some things. 

 

“What are you talking about? I don’t know anything!”

 

This half knows enough.

 

Midoriya wiped his sweaty hands on his shorts, legs quivering. 

 

“I... have to go to UA?”

 

We need to get into UA. Not just once. We’ll need prolonged contact.

 

“With what?”

 

The heroes. They know stuff we don’t about the situation. 

 

 

 

“The situation?”

 

 

 

 

 

You don’t know? Why dƠ̴̢̻̠̲̪͍̠̘̻̎̑͒̈́̋̏̎̊n̴̹͚͚͈̫̗͠’̴̢͇͖͎͔̻͓̬̪̝̘͙̽̄̑t̶̗͓̞͖͓̖͇̙̤͈̩̲̙͔̿̈́͌͒̎ Ỳ̷̢̛̗̖͈̊̀̉̀͝ö̵̡̗̖͇̘͖̮͇̱͈̱̝́͋̒͆̇͋̓͌͛ȕ̴̙̬̻̣͙̜̤̭̈́̄̏͂̆̀̚͝͝ ̸̥̟̬͋͌͗̈̀̊̊̈́̇̐͑͝͝ȧ̸̡͇͖̮̖̬͇͚͎͎̘̼̮͊̂̒̓̃̃̂̂͘͘ͅš̶͇̜͓̳͗̓̃͑͂̆̎͘͠k̷̗̫̟̽͆̔̔͌͋̓͗̂͐͛͆͂̄ ̸̨͍̊́̍̓̈́͊̐ÿ̵̨̠͇̬̦́̈́̅̅͑̃́͘͝o̷̠̞͇̝̭̰̒̾͋͋̓̈̈̆͑̔̓͒͝ṷ̵̧̧̙̺̺̝͔̱̮̬̼̍͆̍͗̅̽͂̅͘͠ȑ̵̢̧̢̦̯̜͍̻̤̲̓́̔͑̒͂̑̀ ̶̗̠͇̱͐͆̔̊̔͆͛͒̓̃̒͝͠ḿ̶̛͚̀̈́̒

 

 

“My what?!” Midoriya slammed his hands down on the computer, but it had already gone blank, the screen butning hot to the touch. He wanted to scream in frustration, but he also didn’t want to disturb his mother. 

 

 

Not like she cared much anyways. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In about two minutes, he was sound asleep.

Chapter Text

Bakugou has seen Deku do a ton of weird things.

 

He’d seen him mumble into oblivion, cower, roast someone on accident, and walk off a second degree like it was nothing, but cry at a small bruise.

 

But he had never, ever seen him sleep in class.

 

 

Basically, the guy was a fucking nerd. As far as Bakugou knew, he got straight A’s, and always took diligent notes. If a teacher said not to do something (I.E; sleep in class), Deku didn’t do it.

 

 

But there he was, slumped over on his desk, eyelids fluttering with every light snore. 

 

Bakugou rolled his eyes. If the fucker wanted to be an honor role student so badly, he’d better get his head off the damn desk. 

 

It was nice to see Deku not being such a fucking Gary-stue, wet blanket, goody two shoes for once. It was slightly less infuriating.

 

 

At least, only for a little while.

 

 

Bakugou was forced to watch him slog through math, mumble through his English reading, and sleep through the entirety of lunch. And by the end of the day, he was sick of it.

 

 

“Hey, damn nerd!” 

 

Surprisingly, Deku didn’t jump or squeal like he normally did. He just lifted his head up and just fucking stared at Bakugou with this stupidly bleary expression on his face.

 

“What...” he groaned. Bakugou wasn’t buying this act for a second.

 

“What did you do, nerd? Why are you so fucking out of it?” When Deku didn’t respond, Bakugou slammed his hands down on his desk.

 

“Look at me, shithead!” Deku glared at him, then looked the other way. 

 

The two extras that followed him around looked at each other warily. This wasn’t in the script.

 

“Oi.” Deku turned back, tired eyes flashing.

 

“Go away Bakugou. I just want to go home and sleep.” Deku shoved a book in his bag, but Bakugou grabbed his wrist to stop him.

 

“I wasn’t done, Deku.” 

 

“But I am. So go away.”

 

“Or what?”

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m home...” Midoriya mumbled. His entire body felt like a bruise.

 

“Hi honey-What happened?!” Inko exclaimed, taking in Midoriya’s battered and bruised appearance.

 

“Kacchan happened.” He muttered, feeling contempt run through his veins. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

 

“Oh.” Inko says, looking slightly put out, knowing there wasn’t really anything she could do about the situation, except maybe file a restraining order. But they didn’t have enough money to afford a lawyer.

 

“Well,” Inko said, while filling a plastic bag with ice, “use this. It’ll help the black eye.” 

 

Midoriya felt his face, and sure enough, he could feel the beginnings of a swelling black eye. “Fantastic.” He muttered.

 

 

To be fair, he had been rather uncharacteristicly rude to Kacchan. But he was tired. It didn’t help he’d woken up on his desk at around midnight, and spent the rest of the night trying to fix his computer, to no avail. He’d ask his mother to get him a new one, but they were so expensive...

 

Did he have homework? Midoriya didn’t care. He just wanted to sleep.

 

 

But try as he might, sleep never came.

 

Midoriya opened his eyes. There was too much restless energy in his veins, and he needed to do something. 

 

 

The answer you want is at UA.

 

 

Maybe the mysterious other him was right. 

 

But how was he supposed to get into UA, if he didn’t even have a handle on his quirk?

 

 

 

 

Midoriya vaugly wondered how he’d gotten into this situation in the first place.

 

He’d just wanted to sleep, but here he was, on a deserted beach near his house, attempting to tap into an ability which may not even exist. Fan-freaking-tastic.

 

And try as he might, he couldn’t make anything happen. The most he could do was make the buzzing in his head louder and give himself a headache.

 

This wasn’t working.

 

But what was he doing wrong?

 

 

Then, out of nowhere, he heard a muffled yelp of surprise. Midoriya jumped, and behind him, something went crunch!

 

He whipped around to see a wide screen tv that had just been fine earlier, reduced to a lump of glass and wire. While that was surprising, the more surprising thing was the man who had appeared out of nowhere.

 

He was tall, pale, and gaunt, all skin and bone. His scraggly mop of blond hair did nothing to alliviate the hobo-esque look he had, or his black and blue eyes. The man looked equally as shocked and frightened as Midoriya was.

 

“S-sorry.” Midoriya stuttered our, palms sweaty. He mentally wacked himself, because, god, if he wanted to avoid people, why did he go to a PUBLIC BEACH of all places?!

 

“It’s you...” the man whispered, awe and -fear? Lacing his gravely tone. 

 

 

“Me...?” Had he seen him last night? At the sewer? Was he a police man? Or was he the person who’d tracked the slime everywhere?

 

“I’m-“ Midoriya backed up, flight instincts taking over any rational thought. “I’m sorry if that was your TV. Goodbye!” And he took off running in the other direction, praying that the man had confused him with someone else.

 

 

 

 

 

Toshinori was beyond confused.

 

 Now not only had he seen the mysterious green boy twice now, but he had seemed to take on a different persona each time.

 

But the oddest thing?

 

The boy had addressed him by name yesterday.

 

But now, he seemed like he didn’t know him at all.

 

 

Chapter Text

Midoriya woke up with a horrible headache.

 

He frowned. He was feeling fine yesterday. He had no clue why now he’d suddenly get sick.

 

But he was sick. He could tell. His body was covered in goose bumps, and he felt hot, but was shivering.

 

“Mom -” His mother looked up from her fried eggs, and turned to face him. “Good morning honey,” She said, but stopped when she saw his appearance.

 

“Sweetie, are you feeling okay?” Midoriya shook his head lamley. The static in his head felt even louder than before.

 

A warning of some sort?

 

Last time it was this loud, he’d almost ended up attacked -

 

Wait.

 

When was I almost attacked?

 

Midoriya scanned his mind for memories of the event but found nothing. His palms started to sweat.

 

Was I attacked? I’d remember if I was - that’s not something you easily forget - did my brain soften it due to trauma? What if -

 

“Izuku, do you need to go lay down?” Midoriya jolted out of his thoughts, to see a mildly concerned Inko staring at him. He nodded weakly.

 

“Yeah. I’ll do that.” Inko gave him a small hug, a rare gesture from her, and picked up the phone to call the school while Midoriya trudged lamley back to his room.

 

If something bad’s gonna happen, maybe I should stay at home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bakugou was in a foul mood.

 

He’d gotten his english test back (45%, bad for his standards,) and the extra’s wouldn’t stop teasing him about his failure, until he’d blown up, and shouted at them to ‘get the fuck away shitweeds, before I give you something to really complain about,’.

 

But then Deku showed.

 

Bakugou could see his test, a 98. For some reason, that irked him the most.

 

“Hey shitnerd!”

 

Deku didn’t even respond. He just kept scrolling through his phone like a little bitch.

 

“I’M TALKING TO YOU.” Bakugou slammed his palms, smoke pouring, onto Deku’s desk. He finally looked up, gaze blank and impassive.

 

“Is that what you’re calling me?” He said, tone lacking any sort of emotion whatsoever.

 

Bakugou yanked him up by his collar. “This damn act again?!’ He roared, his temper boiling to a fever pitch. “You think you can tromp around and act like you’re better than everyone, ey DEKU?! I’ll have YOU know, that no one here thinks you’re worth anything! So stop being such a little teacher’s pet, wet blanket, BITCH!”

 

Deku blinked, looking mildly surprised. Then, to Bakugou’s extreme anger, he snorted. SNORTED. With this little glint in his eye.

 

“Are you always this charming?” He deadpanned.

 

Bakugou punched him in the gut, wanting nothing more then to wipe that little smirk off his stupid freckled face. “ARE YOU LOOKING DOWN ON ME?!” He yelled, his hands crackling to life.

 

“I guess…?” Deku coughed out, like he was confused by the question. “I mean, anyone's better then you, with how you act and stuff-”

 

Bakugou punched him in the face. Or, at least he tried to, but Deku caught his fist.

 

Deku. Fucking caught . His fist.

 

Anger flared up in his cold gaze, a menacing leer becoming more apparent in his voice. “Don’t. You. Touch me.” He whispered.

 

Bakugou reared back to attack, but then, Deku whipped around, keeping his arm in his fist, yanked Bakugou forward, twirled, and roundhouse kicked him in the face.

 

The entire class went silent. They were used to Bakugou’s treatment of the class freak, but this had never happened. Never had Deku retaliated back.

 

Then, the teacher stormed into the room. “What is going on here?!” He yelled. Everyone looked at Deku.

 

“Midoriya, did you do this?”

 

Deku rubbed the back of his head. “Bakugou started it.” He said, voice back to the neutral drone. “And why are you stepping in now? This ass -” He jabbed his thumb backwards at Bakugou, who hissed, “Has been beating me up for like, the whole year, and you haven’t done a single thing.”

 

“I need proof, Midoriya,” The teacher looked strained. Midoriya crossed his arms.

 

“For god's sake, a few days ago he almost beat me up in class, how much more proof do you need?” Then, Deku smirked again, face contorting into an impish grin.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of Bakugou, right?”

 

The teacher paled, sweating bullets. “I- I’m not - why would I be afraid of him?! He’s a student -”

 

“If you’re not afraid, report his misconduct to the principal. He can’t beat you up, sir. And if he tries, you could go to court and file a restraining order. You’re an adult, you’ve got a quirk, you’re respectable. Your word counts a lot more than his.”

 

You could hear a pin drop, at how quiet the class was. Then, the teacher frowned.

 

“Go to the principal's office Midoriya.”

 

Deku smiled, sacranly.

 

“How about you come with me?” Then, to the collective shock of the whole class, Midoriya slipped his phone out of his sleeve. “I recorded this entire encounter. I’m sure after the principal sees this, she’ll want to have a nice, long talk with you.”

 

The teacher froze, his eyes darting nervously around the room. His hands were curled into fists and he started at Deku, who was holding up the footage, still filming.

 

The teacher lunged for his phone, but Deku sidestepped, and stopped the video.

 

“I’ll be going to the principal’s office now, sir. Have a good day.” Deku stepped out of the room, and closed the door.

 

Dead silence.

 

The teacher whipped around, eyes flashing at the students. “What are you waiting for, take your goddamn seats!” The class ran to get to where they needed to to, and the teacher nervously started the lesson.

 

Ten minutes later, the principal came for him.

 

He didn’t come back.





Bakugou trudged home silently, his mind reflecting on what had happened. His teacher had gotten fired, and Deku had given him a black eye. The whole thing was bizarre. Deku would never do that.

 

He was so focused on getting to where he needed to go, that he didn’t notice he was walking towards someone until he slammed right into them.

 

“OW -” He looked up to see Aunt Inko staring back down at him, shopping bags in hand.

 

“Oh - Katsuki!” Her head tilted when she saw him. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Walking home from school.” He grumbled, brushing by her. He considered leaving it, but he had to.

 

“Deku’s a goddamn animal, y’know that?”

 

Inko turned, face not betraying anything. “What do you mean?” She asked, confusion lining her light-hearted tone.

 

“He roundhouse kicked me in the fucking face, and got our teacher fired!” He exclaimed, gesturing to his bruised face. “What the fuck?!”

 

Inko looked around. “Did this happen today?” She said. Bakugou nodded.

 

“That’s strange. He was home sick today.”

 

Bakugou froze.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Inko blinked, then laughed, but it sounded strained. “I’m sorry - I meant he was sick yesterday. He went to school. Silly me!” She turned, and started power-walking away. “Nice seeing you, Katuski! Goodbye!”

 

“Hold up -” Inko had turned the corner and vanished.

 

Bakugou frowned.

 

Because Inko was lying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Midoriya awoke from his sleep to hear a loud smack! on his window. He lifted his head from his pillow. The clock read two forty seven.

 

Another smack! Midoriya then saw something brown and round hit his window. It was a rock.

 

Smack!

 

“WHO IS IT -” Midoriya stopped yelling when he saw a familiar mop of blond, spiky hair outside his window.

 

“Kacchan?” He said blearly. “W-What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night!”

 

“What did you do.” Bakugou asked in a level tone. His tone was only level when something really bad happened.

 

Uh oh. This wasn’t good.

 

“I... “ Midoriya considered what he did today. “Slept?”

 

“YOU KICKED ME IN THE FUCKING FACE, YOU ASSHAT!” Bakugou yelled. The neighbor’s light flickered on.

 

“I.. what?” Bakugou took a deep breath, like he was trying to compose himself.

 

“You kicked me. At school today. Do you seriously not remember?”

 

He was asleep for most of the day. He remembered a dream about a garden and a pavillion, but no kicking Kacchan.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I stayed home sick today.” Midoriya shut his window, to the sound of muffled curses and explosions.

 

He tried to go back to sleep, but from the sounds of what was going on outside, Kacchan wasn’t going away.

 

“Bakugou -” Midoriya started once he opened up the window. “If you don’t go away RIGHT NOW, I am calling the police.”

 

Bakugou looked a little deterred, but kept yelling. Midoriya sighed, picked up his phone, and dialed the police.

 

“Hello? Yes - police force - some kid’s right outside my apartment complex? He keeps threatening me -”

 

Seeing that Midoriya was serious, Bakugou turned and ran, but not before shouting a ‘fuck you Deku’ over his shoulder, and throwing up the finger.

 

Midoriya sighed, and told the police Bakugou was gone. They hung up.

 

Kicking Kacchan at school? Midoriya thought to himself as he lay back down.

 

That’s silly. He must have confused me with someone else.

Chapter Text

 

No one talked to Midoriya when he came back to school the next day, which was fine by him. But instead of the usual cold shoulder, people seemed to be... 

 

Scared?

 

Wary?

 

Concerned?

 

Did he do something? Did he look funny? Was there something wrong with his face?

 

Midoriya checked his face in the bathroom mirror. Nothing. He looked... fairly normal, if not a little more sickly then usual.

 

Someone banged the door open. Midoriya jumped.

 

Kacchan.

 

Shit nuggets.

 

Midoriya prepared for some sort of beating, or verbal smack down, or some form of harassment. But instead, Bakugou stopped in front of him, a good three feet away. Midoriya noted the prominent black eye on the left side of his face.

 

He swallowed.

 

“Ka-“

 

“You actually think you can just fake sick and get away with kicking me in the face?” Bakugou asked. It wasn’t a threat. It was a genuine question. 

 

That didn’t mean it didn’t sound threatening.

 

“I told you, I was sick yesterday. Whoever kicked you in the face wasn’t me -“

 

“Cut the crap, Deku.” Bakugou hissed. “I know it was you, the whole class did. They just need either you or a teacher to confirm it, and the only teacher who could just got fired. So -“ Bakugou stalked up to Midoriya until they were face to face, and Midoriya could feel Bakugou’s hot breath on his cheek. He tried not to flinch, and ordered his legs to stop shaking. 

 

“- I’m going to find out a way to prove to this whole goddamn shithole of a school that you kicked me in the fucking face, and when I do, you are gonna wish you were never born, hear me?” His voice was quieter than Midoriya had ever heard it, but laced with such menace that Midoriya had to remind himself to breathe. Slowly he nodded, but words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

 

“Good luck with that.”

 

Bakugou stared at Midoriya for a few seconds. Midoriya started sweating bullets, internally wacking himself for his impulsive speaking.

 

Surprisingly, Bakugou didn’t deck Midoriya in the face, or harm him, or scream and yell and pop explosions.

 

Instead, he grabbed Midoriya by the collar and hauled him a little closer. Face strangely blank, he growled in the most threatening way possible.

 

“Challenge excepted.”

 

He let go of his collar and stalked out of the bathroom, oddly calm. Midoriya clenched his fists to try and get them to stop shaking. The most alien thing about this situation was Bakugou’s unnerving calmness. He was never calm.

 

 

Then, Midoriya noticed the charred hem of his collar and frowned.

 

 

 

Maybe not as calm as he thought. 

 

 

 

 

 

After school, Midoriya went back to the beach. It was quiet, and a nice place to just sit and think. Or yell when you were mad.

 

 

Mostly? He was nervous.

 

Nervous about what Bakugou has said. Nervous about the fact that he’d kicked someone and couldn’t even remember.

 

What the hell was going on?

 

 

 

He sat down on a broken microwave and sighed. His thoughts were spinning in circles and it was getting him nowhere.

 

UA.

 

Midoriya recalled what the strange person on his computer had told him.

 

The answer you seek is at UA.

 

 

Midoriya got that. But how the hell was he supposed to get into a school if he had a quirk he didn’t even know how to use? And even if he did get in, then what? Where was he supposed to go from there?

 

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!!!” Midoriya realized he had started screaming out of frustration, but made no attempt to shut up. He felt sick, was confused, and he felt the start of an existential crisis coming in what was he supposed to do he couldn’t do anything useless Deku until the end of time-

 

 

 

The static in his head silenced.

 

 

 

Midoriya stopped screaming. 

 

 

The trash and rubble around him had been reduced to dust, a ten foot ring, clear of any debris, surrounding him. Midoriya looked down at his hands.

 

 

They were emitting some sort of gas from his fingertips.

 

 

He smiled.

 

Maybe this was a good place to start.

Chapter Text

“I’d like to see you try.”

 

Bakugou scowled. What was that supposed to mean?!

 

It was about five in the morning. Bakugou usually woke up around this time, due to the fact that the boiling energy constantly flowing in him could never keep him asleep for long. Too much to do, too much to fight. If sleep wasn’t necessary, he’d never be sleeping. He’d sleep when he was dead.

 

 

God, what was that nerd’s fucking problem?! Tromping around all sullen and creepy, acting like he was better. Looking down on him. Asshole.

 

Bakugou rolled out of bed. It was useless to try and sleep now, so he figured he’d get up and go on a run.

 

 

 

About fifteen minutes later, he’d arrived at the trashy beach that was usually his halfway point. Bakugou stoped to catch his breath, and opened his bottle of water. 

 

 

Then, something caught his eye.

 

Someone was standing in direct path of the weak sunlight, blocking any rays from getting through and casting a large shadow. While Bakugou squinted, and tried to see who it was, someone hit him from behind.

 

“Oh dear -“ a wheezy voice said, sounding sorry. Bakugou rightened himself, and looked back up. The figure had vanished.

 

Bakugou turned around to see an old man standing in front of him. He was skeletal, tall, and he had a mop of blond hair, with two large strands covering his jet black eyes. Despite his rather creepy appearance, he had a crinkled face, like he smiled a lot. His disposition exuded a sort of calmness, and Bakugou relaxed instantly.

 

“I am so sorry young man... are you alright?”

 

“What - me?” Bakugou said distractedly. “Oh, I’m good. Sorry skeletor.”

 

The words slipped out out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. Bakugou felt mortified. He’d just insulted a random nice-looking stranger. Great.

 

Normally, he wouldn’t care, but for some reason, he did.

 

The blond man looked suprised for a few seconds. Then, he threw back his head and laughed heartily.

 

“Skeletor!” He exclaimed once he’d calmed down. “That’s a new one.”

 

Bakugou bit down on a smile. The man’s laughter was infectious.

 

“I’m sorry about that.” The man said once he calmed down. “My name is Toshinori. What’s yours?” He stick out his skeletal hand.

 

Bakugou hesitantly took it. “Bakugou Katsuki.” He muttered. Toshinori nodded.

 

“Well, why are you down at this beach at six in the mourning?”

 

“I have trouble sleeping.” Bakugou muttered. He pulled his hand away. “Why are you here?” He fired back, mistrust boiling in his chest.

 

“Oh, well I always come to this beach in the morning.” Toshinori looked at the trash-ridden expanse of sand. “Pity it’s a landfill now.”

 

Bakugou nodded, not really paying attention. Then, something Toshinori said made him listen.

 

“Though, there was this one boy helping clean it up. Small kid - he looked like he should eat more.”

 

Bakugou whipped around to face him, ears feeling hot. “What’d he look like?” He exclaimed. “What color was his hair?”

 

“Um...” Toshinori mumbled, looking uncomfortable by the sudden barrage of questions. “His hair was... black, I think. It looked a little greenish, but -“

 

“I knew it.” Bakugou growled, turning to run. 

 

“Where are you going?” Toshinori asked. 

 

“To my house!” He exclaimed. 

 

He had a nerd to catch.

 

“Oh - will I see you again?” Bakugou turned around to see Toshinori’s smiling face looking back at him.

 

“Don’t count on it, grandpa!” Bakugou yelled back, and sprinted to his house.

 

He had a feeling Deku’s quirk had something to do with the kick-incident.

 

And he was determined to figure out what it was.

 

Chapter Text

Midoriya was cold.

 

His body had been wracked with full-body chills for three days now. He curled up under his blankets that he was currently trying to sleep under, but it didn’t do any good.

 

He wasn’t sick. His mother had taken him to a doctor. 

 

So why was he so cold?

 

 

 

 

Maybe it was aside effect of his Quirk. He’d been trying to use it more and more the past few days, to little success. What he’d managed to figure out is when he got really scared or startled, sometimes thing around him would explode, or compress, or generally break themselves in horrible ways that made him feel awful afterwords,  especially if he wasn’t down at the beach.

 

Maybe he could go down to the beach and try and practice? Surely it wasn’t too late - 

 

-no. 

 

Wait - why?

 

Midoriya wracked his brains for an answer. Something was engraved into his mind.

 

Kacchan.

 

 

What?

 

 

What did Kacchan have to do with the beach?

 

Kacchan, as far as Midoriya knew, didn’t even know that the beach existed. Heck, much less that he’d even go down to the beach, or that he had a quirk.

 

So why was he thinking this?

 

 

Had Kacchan been... following him?

 

 

No, okay, that idea was too disturbing to contemplate, so he figured he’d just lay down in bed, and forget about it.

 

Only he couldn’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, Shouta?”

 

Shouta Aizawa groaned. His headache was bad enough as it was, and Hizashi Yamada’s loud morning voice was certainly not helping.

 

“What.” He mumbled, voice dripping with tiredness and apathy.

 

“Uh, the people at the apartment are passing around a notification that someone managed to get in.” Hizashi replies, voice dropping a few decibels. “The building’s ‘heroes only’, so they were wondering if you’ve seen this villain before.” He handed Shouta a small picture, paper still warm from the printer.

 

The picture was dark and staticky, but Shouta could clearly make out an unfamiliar figure standing by the gate. His features were all blurred out in the static mess of grey that had overtaken the picture, but his eyes were clear.

 

They refracted the light.

 

And he was looking straight at the camera.

 

 

“What the hell?” Despite him having seen many disturbing things in his day, something about this picture was just... wrong. Something uncanny. It made the hairs on the back of Shouta’s neck stand up straight, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

 

“I’ve... never seen him before in my life.” Hizashi took the papers back and frowned.

 

“You sure? Cause-“

 

“I’ve got the best facial recognition memory in our entire agency, Hizashi. Go ask someone else.”

 

Hizashi nodded, seeing how Shouta wasn’t in the mood. He turned to go back to their room, but stopped.

 

“Kinda creepy, you know?”

 

Shouta’s head darted up.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

It seemed like the more Midoriya used his quirk, the more it’d set off at random moments.

 

One time he was in his room writing, when a phone notification spooked him so badly the cealing fan shot off and hit him on the head. He’d managed to reattach it the best he could, but his mom did eye the few wires that stuck out.

 

Another time was in class, when he was half asleep and the teacher called on him. He was so surprised that he jumped about a foot into the air, and caused the teacher’s ancient computer to fly into a wall. He had to explain to the teacher afterwords what had happened. 

 

“You do have a quirk?” She said. Ms. Takaguchi was a lot better then the other teacher who’d gotten fired. Despite this, she knew that Midoriya was quirkless, as she had subbed multiple times before at this school.

 

“Yeah. I’m not entirely sure what it does yet, but I think it has something to do with technology. And when I get scared.” He mumbled, face flushing.

 

Ms. Takaguchi smiles. “Well, is happy to hear that! How’d you find out that you did have one anyways?”

 

“I always knew I had something,” Midoriya elaborated, “I just wasn’t sure what it was yet.”

 

Ms. Takaguchi smiled, face full of pity. Midoriya squirmed, uncomfortable. “Well,” She began. “It’s good that you know somewhat about this. I think you might want to take up a quirk councilor.” 

 

“We can’t.” Midoriya muttered, feeling hot shame prick at the corners of his eyes. “My mom can’t afford it.”

 

She frowned. “I see.” She muttered. “Midoriya, thank you for your time. I’ll see what I can do.”

 

Midoriya nodded, stood up, and bowed quickly. 

 

“Thank you very much, Ms Takaguchi!”

 

She smiled fondly again at him. “Ok. Get to lunch kiddo, you don’t want to go to class on an empty stomach.” He nodded again, and took off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Uraraka hated dark buildings. Even though her family worked in them all the time, going inside at night in a half-finished building was always a nerve wracking experience. 

 

She’d forgotten her phone. Even though it was a dinky flip-phone she didn’t have the money to replace it, so she was forced to go back inside to grab it.

 

The building her parents were renovating was an old French-esque manor, and part of it still had it been restored. As she looked deeper into the half-finished mess, she heard something clatter behind her. 

 

 

“Who’s there?!” Uraraka called out, flashlight creating a streak against the wall.

 

Her flashlight caught beam of someone. 

 

 

They were silhouetted in the darkness, and Uraraka couldn’t make out their defining features, but she could see their eyes, reflecting the shine from her flashlight. She stepped back, and dropped her flashlight, just in time to see the figure dart into the hallway behind him and vanish.

 

“Wait!” She cried. “That’s the hallway with the-“

 

She heard a high-pitched squeal, and a shrieking noise.

 

“Bats.” She finished quietly. Uraraka turned tail and ran, not wanting to get scratched, or stabbed by this stranger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few Mondays later, Midoriya came home to the sound of two people talking.

 

That’s weird, Midoriya thought. Mom never invites anyone over.

 

 

He creeped into the living room to find his mother and Ms. Takaguchi talking, over two cups of tea. Midoriya blanched. The only reason the teacher would be here is if he’d messed up, right? What did he do? Had Kacchan framed him for something he didn’t do? The itching of his strange cuts felt more painful, and he resisted the urge to scratch- 

 

“Ah, sweetie!” Inko said cheerily. “Your teacher came by. I think she wants to tell you something.”

 

Ms. Takaguchi stood up, and handed an envelope to him. “Here.” She said. “Maybe this will help with your issue.”

 

Midoriya opened it. It was a form. 

 

 

For quirk counciling. 

 

And below that was a check. For a hundred thousand yen.

 

“Oh no- oh no, Ms, I can’t-“

 

“You said so yourself, you want to get better. Besides,” She casted a sideways look at his mother, as if they were sharing a private joke. “It’d be nice to know you won’t wreck my computer again.”

 

Midoriya blushed bright red, scratches on his arm stinging more promidently. He had completely forgotten about that in the rush of his new power. “Oh my god, I completely forgot - I’m so sorry, I’ll get you a new one-“ 

 

“It’s fine.” She finished, smiling. “Being a teacher is my side job, and I’ve got enough money to spare.”

 

“Wait-“ Midoriya said, catching on to something. “Are you... rich?”

 

Ms. Takaguchi shuffled her feet. “I’m comfortable.” She replied finally.

 

“See, that’s exactly what a rich person would say!” Midoriya burst out. Ms. Takaguchi looked taken aback for a minute, and Midoriya wondered if he’d taken it too far.

 

Then, she burst into laughter. “You’re a funny kid, you know that?” Midoriya thought it wasn’t possible for him to get anymore red. But it was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An alarm blared off, rousing Nedzu’s attention from his paperwork. The time was about one AM, and he was in his room/office at UA. There were many things he wanted to keep private, like how he slept in a giant drawer because he was so tiny and could fit, or that his office was a little bit of a mess, judging by the state of the ‘conspiracy boards’ as Vlad liked to call them.

 

The security here was top-notch. 

 

Who could have gotten in?

 

Nedzu pulled up the security feed, only to see it have all gone static. He frowned. They took out the main cameras, but those were easy to get to. He pulled up another tab.

 

The secondary, secret cameras were always something the villains overlooked.

 

 

But to Nedzu’s shock, those were staticked out too. He blinked in mild surprise, but his paws quickly flew to his keyboard in order to override this program.

 

 

But then, a message popped up in his screen.

 

 

Is this Nedzu?

 

Nedzu tilted his head. No tech-savvy smart villain like this one  would talk to him this directly. He could track the signal.  Perhaps they were planning something?

 

He pulled up the signal tracker tab while typing back, to stall for time.

 

Yes.

 

Gosh, the villain replied, am I on UA campus? What time is it?

 

Nedzu frowned. 

 

It is 3:37. Why are you here?

 

I have no idea, to be honest. I kind of just... am here now. Do you how to get out?

 

Nedzu raised a nonexistent eyebrow in surprise. This was a plausible path, but he never actually considered that it would happen. Thinking quickly, he typed out a response.

 

Why should I tell you? If you know how to get out, you’ll know how to get in.

 

Not exactly...? Besides, can’t you just change the entrance location or something?

 

We can’t change construction Willy-Nilly like that. That costs money.

 

Oh. 

 

The disappointment was evident even through the texted letters.

 

Um, ok. Couldn’t you like, at least launch me out with a canapult or something?

 

We don’t have one. However, if we could meet face to face, I could try and negotiate.

 

No thanks. But if you look out your window, you can see me.

 

Nedzu blinked. How did this person know where his office was?

 

He looked out the window. A silhouetted figure was standing directly below him. His eyes reflected the light that was coming from one of the outdoor lights, and he waved.

 

This pretty much confirmed the fact that this person wasn’t a threat. Their mannerisms seemed almost childlike, and their lack of caution signaled to Nedzu that this could have been a mistake.

 

Still, he wasn’t sure.

 

There is one way to get out, he typed. I can disable the electricity in the fence, and you can climb over.

 

The figure looked to the fence.

 

It’s huge!

 

So? If you got in, then you can get out.

 

Okay fine, whatever! The person walked over to the fence and started to climb. Ten painfully long minutes later, the figure was over the fence, and on their way.

 

The signal tracker beeped. It had found a location.

 

But when he looked, it simply said:

 

 

Trying to track me? Get on my level. ;p

 

Nedzu sighed. Perhaps this what was Aizawa felt like a lot of the time. Done with life. 

 

Because that’s how he was feeling at the moment.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

The following is a transcript of a phone call concerning the subject Izuku Midoriya

 

 

 

How many are there now?

 

 

It’s starting. I know it is. You know it is. We know it is.

 

I’m getting scared, a little. But mostly excited? Is there a word for that?

 

...no, I’m not backing out. I don’t. More importantly, he’d kill me if I did.

 

I am a little excited about UA, though. Even if it’s in its final years, it’s always been a symbol of hero society. I’m looking forward to seeing how it functions.

 

 

What? 

 

Oh, him. Small complication. I can fix it. Maybe.

 

 

The maybe doesn’t mean no, I’m not like my mom. The maybe means probably! Lay off! God.

 

 

Fine. Whatever. I’ll go, I’ll go. If it keeps you from being a whiney jerk.

 

Uh huh.

 

Ok.

 

Bye bye.

 

 

It was at this point when the call ended. The speakers are still unknown. 

Chapter Text

The UA entrance exams.

 

 

It was finally time.

 

Midoriya had been working towards this day for a long time now. He still hadn’t gone to quirk counseling regularly though. He never had any time.

 

 

He kind of wished he had. Because the churning in his stomach had turned into a typhoon of anxieties and nerves.

 

 

But he tried his best to squash those feelings down as he slowly approached the humongous door at the front of UA.

 

Ok. 

 

It’s time.

 

Finally, I can get some answers.

 

 

Midoriya took a single step forward, the words from his now-forgotten computer echoing in his mind.

 

The answer you seek is at UA.

 

Alright, Midoriya thought. It’s time.

 

 

He took another step, stumbles, and managed to regain his footing before falling flat on his face.

 

“Okay,” he muttered to himself. “My balance is still working, that’s good...”

 

 

This time, watching his feet, he took another step forward.

 

And another.

 

And another.

 

Until he was face-to-face with the door of UA.

 

Too late to turn back now, he thought with increasing dread. 

 

 

 

 

 

The ceremony beforehand was an awkward ordeal, to say the least. For one thing, the hero Present Mic was there, which would have been cool, if it weren’t for the completely unresponsive audience. Middle schoolers made a terrible crowd.

 

Second off, he sat in the far back, but some random guy with blue hair STILL managed to hear his stifled mumbling (it was a nervous habit, sue him,) and then he got lectured in front of about two hundred kids. Midoriya wondered if anyone had a quirk that could let him sink into the floor, because that would have been pretty swell right about then.

 

Thankfully, his combat group didn’t consist of Bakugou, so he didn’t need to worry about THAT extra obstacle. 

 

 

But he still didn’t have a good handle on his quirk. It usually went off at random times, so what if it didn’t work? Not to mention his control still sucked balls, but he could still remember what his counselor had told him. Focus on the feeling in the gut. The nervous jumble of nerves? Yeah, how much was that going to help? All he’d manage to do was blow someone’s head open like he did with Ms. Takaguchi’s computer- 

 

“Hey... are you faring alright?” Midoriya practically jumped a mile when he felt a hand come down on his shoulder. He turned, to see a blond boy, a little taller then him, with some kind of metal lazer belt strapped to his chest.

 

“Oh-uh-yup, I-I’m doing just fine! How are you?”

 

The blind boy tilited his head in obvious disbelief. 

 

“Forgive me for interrupting your isyocranics, but it does not strike me that you’re fine.” The boy said, in an accent so bad it had to be fake. “You do know this exam shall not be fatal, correct?”

 

Midoriya’s brain short circuited for a second, trying to translate what the boy had said into words that actually made sense. He was ninety nine point nine percent sure that he wasn’t using the word isyocranics correctly, if that was even a word at all.

 

He wordlessly nodded, and the blonde smiled. 

 

“Excellent! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an exam to ace!” He stalked off in the other direction.

 

“Wait.”

 

The blonde turned.

 

“T-thanks.” Midoriya managed to stutter out. The blonde flashed him a thumbs up.

 

That gave him a little bit of confidence. If someone as goofy as that boy could try out, there was no reason that he shouldn’t be able to, right?

 

 

“BEGIN!!!”

 

The gates to the battle ground opened. The crowd rushed by Midoriya, and, in a split second of panic, he froze, the nervous bubble in his lungs building, rising, until it felt like it was going to burst-

 

 

 

 

 

“Odd.”

 

Nedzu looked up from his coffee. 

 

“The screens image is breaking up. I thought they were new.”

 

Nedzu wheeled over to where Vlad King was sitting, and frowned.

 

“Yes, That is rather odd. I designed them not to static out. So why...?” The screen flickered, and turned back on.

 

Where robots once were, nothing was left but smoking bits and pieces of scrap metal. The image solidified, and the extent of the damage was further exemplified by the windows of the mock-buildings having been shattered as well.

 

“Holy shit.” Vlad King breathed out. The rest of the faculty gathered around the screen too, assessing the damage.

 

“Hah! Look at that!” Midnight laughed. “Good luck reigning that guys quirk in. Aizawa!”

 

Aizawa, who hadn’t joined them around the table, was too busy looking at his own screen, which had now staticked off as well.

 

“Nedzu, mine’s doing the same thing.” He grumbled. No sooner had he said that, then the screen flickered back to life, showcasing the same extensive damage.

 

“What the fuck?” Midnight breathed. “I want to see what’s going on, why do the camera’s keep shutting off?”

 

“Maybe its a part of this person’s quirk.” Cementoss grunted. Nedzu nodded. 

 

He already had a hunch of who this kid was.

 

 

 

 

 

“TIMESSS UP!!!”

 

 

Midoriya woke up on the pavement to see a cute girl leaning over him, her round features twisted into concern.

 

“Are you okay?” She asked quietly. 

 

Midoriya panicked, and rolled back up, face redder then the sun at this point. 

 

“I’M SORRY - I didn’t mean to do- Wait, where am I? I-is the exam over?”

 

The girl tilted her head. “Do... you not remember what just happened?” She asked.

 

Midoriya racked his memories. The last thing he remembered was a sickening feeling in his gut at the gate, all the blood rushing to his head, and then he woke up here.

 

“D-did I die?” He stuttered. 

 

The girl laughed nervously. “You saved me!” Midoriya blinked. “That big zero pointer was about to crush me and you just walked up behind it, touched its leg, and KABLAM! The leg blew off!!”

 

Midoriya looked around, tuning out the rest of the girl’s spheal. He assessed the damage, scrap metal and ruined parts everywhere.

 

Did... he do this?

 

 

“Alright, out of the way,” an elderly lady shoved forward through the small crowd that had gathered. Midoriya recognizes her as Recovery Girl, But was too woozy to properly process the fact. “Are you two alright?”

 

“I think I bruised my foot, but other than that, nope!” The girl exclaimed peppily. “How about you?” She turned to Midoriya, who’s face reddened, not used to nice girls addressing him directly. 

 

“Uh-I- I’m fine!” He stammered. Recovery Girl’s eyes narrowed. She scanned him from head to toe, and when she was satisfied that he wasn’t in need of immediate care, she sighed.

 

“You kids, always working yourselves into a frenzy over this test. It’s a shame!” She grumbled all the way out of sight, Midoriya and the girl staring after her.

 

“So, uh-“

 

“You! Green boy!”

 

Midoriya jumped again, to see the sparkling blonde rush up to him, seemingly not even dazed from the intense workout they’d just been through. 

 

“How’d you do that?” He asked. “You just blasted through all those robots - it was fabulous!”

 

“Um...” Midoriya shrunk a little at the boy’s overbearing attitude. “I dunno...?”

 

“Well, whatever the case, I look forward to seeing you in class!” The boy singsonged. “My name is Aoyama Yuuga, by the way. Remember the name!” He raised his voice so that the whole crowd could hear, and with that said, he twirled in his heel, and left.

 

 

Weird guy.

 

 

Chapter Text

The result letters arrived about two weeks later.

 

The whole time, Midoriya had been on edge, every little thing setting him off. He knew that he couldn’t have done too badly, considering the vast damage he had apparently caused. But despite that, he was still worried.

 

What if he hadn’t destroyed any of the robots? What if he’d only destroyed his surroundings?

 

He despised how temperamental his powers were. And he was annoyed that he couldn’t understand it, despite knowing so much about quirks.

 

It annoyed him to no end.


“Izuku?” He turned to see his mother at the door.

 

He handed him a letter.

 

“It’s from UA.”






“Well?”

 

Bakugou shrugged.

 

“I got in.” He replied nonchalantly. He cringed at his mother’s excited squealing and his dad’s cries of excitement.

 

He did, however, relent into them giving him a hug.

 

“Oh this is so great - dammit Katsuki, I’m so proud of you!” His mother exclaimed, shaking his shoulders. Bakugou rolled his eyes, and bit back a smile.

 

“Oh, hey-” His dad piped up. “I heard from Inko that Midoriya got in too - we should have a victory dinner together or something -”

 

Bakugou choked.


“He WHAT?!”





Midoriya sat on top of a broken fridge on a trash heap, the early morning sun warming his face. The excitement he’d initially felt after receiving the news that he’d gotten into UA had faded a little, replaced with a cold sense of satisfaction, mixed with a little dread.

 

The answer you seek is at UA.

 

Well, then it was finally time to receive some answers.


The beach was empty, as usual. He always felt that same feeling of dread whenever he went in the daytime, so he stuck to nighttime and sunrises. The cold light of the moon and pink glow of the early morning sun helped to make it look less ugly anyways.

 

“Oi.”

 

Midoriya turned. Bakugou, face casted in pink sun and shadow, stood at the edge of the beach, leaning on a small brick wall that separated it from the bike path. He was wearing a red hoodie, covered in soot - probably from an explosion, and his face was twisted into a scowl.

 

He was really the last person that Midoriya wanted to see right now.


“Got nothing to say?” Bakugou said, voice surprisingly level and calm. Come to think of it, he’d been calmer in the last few months. It was… weird. “Fine.”

 

“Are you going to beat me up?” Midoriya mumbled. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed. “For getting into UA.”

 

Bakugou was silent for a few seconds.

 

“Since when did you grow the spine to be so upfront with me?” Bakugou replied, smirking.

 

He didn’t actually look too angry.

 

He looked… tired.

 

“Since… since when have you stopped trying to kill me every three seconds?” Midoriya retorted.

 

“You know what - shut up, I’ve got a fucking headache and you’re really not helping me right now.” Bakugou growled.

 

Midoriya shut up.

 

“Okay - here’s what’s going to happen.” Bakugou said. “You may have gotten into UA somehow, with or without a quirk, but you’re probably going to die a painful death there, and when you do I’ll come to your funeral only to laugh and spit on your grave, got it?”

 

Midoriya nodded.

 

“Good. I’ll leave you alone for now - but trust me, once we get to UA, I’m going to pound your shitty head into the ground, if the teachers or villains don’t do it first. Okay?” Midoriya nodded again. Bakugou swiveled around on his heel, and stalked off the other way.

 

“Careful Bakugou, or you might cut yourself on that edge.” Midoriya muttered under his breath.

 

“What was that, shitface?”

 

“Nothing!”

 

Bakugou flashed him a middle finger.






Bakugou’s stomach churned with repressed rage. That little shit was still tromping around like he was superior  - what did he know?

 

Well, Bakugou couldn’t wait for the teachers to string him up and make an example of him at UA. The minute they knew he was quirkless, he’d be gone.

 

And Bakugou couldn’t wait for that to happen.



His phone buzzed.


He checked it. He didn't know the number. He was about to delete it and write it off as spam mail, when their message caught his eye.




I’d advise you to be careful around Izuku Midoriya, Bakugou Katsuki. He is a dangerous force to be tampering with.





Bakugou stared at his phone and the message for a solid minute. Then, his finger moved on autopilot, deleting the message and blocking the number.



For good measure, he threw his phone in the ocean too.

Chapter Text

 

The fated first day of UA came on faster than Midoriya would have liked.

 

 

 

It kind of just was there, suddenly, and it didn’t give him any time to prepare. Which sucked, because Midoriya coped with overly-stressful situations by over-planning.

 

And before he knew it, there he was, standing in front of UA’s large gates once again.

 

The gates were open this time. No climbing over walls or something.

 

 

Midoriya chuckled to himself. Climbing over the fence to get in, what a stupid thought. What if they had to do that every morning? He tried to envision himself or Bakugou or that shiny kid climbing over the wall with their big bags. It looked as stupid as it sounded.

 

He was so busy imagining how that’d work out, he didn’t notice that he was walking up right behind the round-faced girl until he had run smack-dab into her. He wheeled around, rubbing his nose in pain, and quickly backed up to apologize.

 

 

 

“I am so sorry-” They both said at the same time. Then they both stopped.

 

 

 

“It’s you!” They both said in unison again.

 

Midoriya stared at the round-faced girl. She stared right back at him. Then, they both burst into peals of laughter.

 

 

When the nervous laughter had finally calmed down, the girl stuck out her hand.

 

“Hey, you’re the kid who saved me, right?”

 

Midoriya nodded, and shook her hand. “I’m Midoriya Izuku.” He said. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“I’m Uraraka Ochako. It’s nice to meet you too!” They both turned, and begin to walk inside, chatting all the way.

 

“So, what does your quirk do anyways?” Uraraka asked. “Is it like, destroying everything in one punch?”

 

 

Midoriya laughed nervously, rubbing calloused fingers over the faded scratches on his arms, a nervous habit he’d taken on these past few days.  “Um actually… this is going to sound weird, but - I don’t know what my quirk is.”

 

 

Uraraka blinked.

 

 

“You don’t?” She asked, tilting her head, so her bangs slid in front of her eyes.

 

Midoriya laughed awkwardly, concealing shame and embarrassment. I knew this would happen, he thought to himself.

 

 

“Yeah, uh, it’s kind of weird - like I sort of know what it does, but, like, I still don’t know the exact criteria to activate it? If that makes sense? All I know is that it pops up in stressful situations and things like that.” He rambled, cringing inwardly at the confused look on Uraraka’s face. “Like, sometimes if I get surprised, or mad, it’ll activate - and I think it’s got something to do with like, technology or something like that -”

 

 

 

Uraraka held up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there. You’ve lost me.”

 

Midoriya sighed. “Never mind. Just forget about it.” He trudged silently forward, kicking himself mentally for a friend opportunity lost.

 

 

But then, Uraraka ran back up to him.

 

 

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to be mean! I was just… a little confused. I bet that the people at UA can figure this sort of thing out. In fact, I bet they do it all the time!”

 

Midoriya perked up a bit at Uraraka kindness. “Oh - thanks. That means a lot.” He mumbled. Uraraka smiled.

 

“No problem.” Midoriya smiled back, then realized that he’d sort of been hogging the conversation.

 

 

“So - what’s your quirk?”

 

Uraraka talked about her quirk, Zero-Gravity, all the way to class. Midoriya kept looking at her, entranced by her confident attitude and endless enthusiasm towards the subject of quirks.

 

Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 

 

 

 

Midoriya had thought that for a total of two and a half minutes before his hopes were dashed on a rock when he saw not only Bakugou, but the stern blue-haired boy as well, who seemed to be in a heated, albeit one-sided argument with the former.

 

Midoriya buried his face in his hands.

 

Great. Now I’ve got to deal with these two.

 

“Ah!” Midoriya perked up to see the blue haired boy gesturing towards him. His mind blanked for a minute, defaulting to his fight or flight responses, and his answer was usually flight. And this situation was pretty much no different.

 

 

So he swiveled around on his heel, and made a mad speed-walk for the door.

 

 

That was, until he tripped over something, what looked like a long yellow duffel bag someone had left on the floor. Midoriya smashed his nose against the cold concrete, face smarting, and head ringing.

 

“You know, if you’re making a break for it on the first day, then you should probably just go now.”

 

Turns out, that it wasn’t a duffel bag. It was a sleeping bag.

 

 

 

And there was a person inside it.

 

 

 

Midoriya’s heart skipped a beat, realizing that he’d probably just stepped on this person’s head.

 

 

“Oh my god - I am so sorry -” The man held up a hand, stood, and unzipped the bag.

 

“You,” He said to the blue-haired boy. He immediately stood up straighter.

 

“Stop that, I’m not a drill surgeon.” The boy relaxed, and the gruff man grunted.

 

“Stop scaring my students, that boy who you chased off almost stepped on me.” The boy sputtered for a second, and Midoriya couldn’t help but mirror Bakugou’s laugh.

 

“You,” He pointed at Bakugou, “Get your feet off the table,” Bakugou did, but no without an eye roll. “And you -” He pointed to Uraraka and Midoriya, who both looked at eachother. “For christ sakes, take your seats.”

 

 

Midoriya then realized that the whole class was staring at them.

 

 

 

 

Fantastic.

 

 

 

 

As soon as everything had quieted down, the teacher, Aizawa, began.

 

“So, good news, we’re skipping the eneterince ceremony.”

 

The class cheered, except for the blue-haired boy, Iida.

 

 

“Sir, but that’s our introduction to our curriculum -” Aizawa held up a hand again.

 

“This school allows a free teaching policy, so I get to do things my way. So, when you’re all done yapping, put on your gym uniforms and get down to the field.”

 

The class broke into loud chatter, all seeming at ease.

 

Midoriya wasn’t. There was a catch, wasn’t there.

 

“Seems fun, doesn’t it?” The class turned to Aizawa, who had a large scowl on his face.

 

“You seem to be taking your studies very lightly. So how about this - whoever gets last gets expelled.”

 

There it is.


 

Aizawa had singled him out from the start. Midoriya Izuku - the enigmatic student himself, who, according to Nedzu, may or may not have accidently broke into UA’s campus in the middle of the night.

 

Seeing him now, Aizawa could definitely see there was something off about the kid. From his posture, to the clipped way he talked, to the way he avoided eye contact with anybody. All of these signs pointed to there being something wrong, but for the life of him, Aizawa couldn’t figure out what it was.

 

He seemed fine. He was talking to Ochako Uraraka normally, though he hadn’t shown any signs of a quirk yet. He seemed to be normal, at least to the untrained eye.

 

But Aizawa had a minors in psychology. He could pick apart people by simply looking at their movements.

 

So what was different about this one?

 

 

 

 

The exam was halfway over. Still no quirk.

 

Was he quirkless? Then how had he destroyed all those robots?

 

Any normal kid would be sweating, or at least nervous by now, seeing as he was in last place. But his expression betrayed nothing. No small sign of it anywhere in his body language. He kept calmly talking to the others. Kept performing with cold accuracy, best as he could.

 

What was it? He was missing something.

 

 

 

 

This was getting frustrating.

 

It was time to intervene.

 

Midoriya was about to throw the ball, when Aizawa took the second to activate his quirk, the familiar redness overtaking his vision for a split second. Midoriya jumped, like someone had shocked him. Then, he turned.

 

His expression was… unnerving, to say the least. But Aizawa held his ground.

 

‘You.” He let his capture scarves wrap around the boy’s wrist. “You’ve been avoiding using your quirk the whole time. Do you think you can get by by simply slacking off?”

 

This elicited no reaction. Aizawa rubbed his temples, and sighed.

 

“Young man, what is your quirk?” He asked.

 

“I don’t know.” Midoriya replied.

 

Silence. It was like someone had pressed the mute button on the world.

 

“You…” Aizawa was gobsmacked. Never, in his seven years of teaching here, had he encountered a student who got into this establishment, who had no idea what their quirk was. Who got in on blind luck alone.

 

“You don’t know what your quirk is?” Midoriya shook his head. Aizawa blinked.

 

“How do you expect to get by in this curriculum?” Midoriya shrugged.

 

“I was hoping someone here may be able to help here, but it seems like you’re just as confused as I am.”

 

Aizawa blinked again, letting his quirk shut off. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

 

“Young man… go to my office. I’ll talk to you after this.” Midoriya nodded, and Aizawa let his scarves fall. He stumbled off in the direction of the door.

 

“Hold the fuck up.” Aizawa turned, to see Problem Child #2, Bakugou Katsuki, push in front of the crowd, looking livid. “How the hell did he get in, if he has no fucking clue what his quirk is?”

 

Aizawa shrugged. “If he doesn’t know, we don’t. Get back to this exam.”

 

"HOLD ON!” It seemed like Bakugou wasn’t done. “YOU EXPECT US TO BE FINE WITH THAT SHITTY-ASS EXCUSE?! AREN’T YOU GOING TO EXPEL HIM OR SOMETHING?!”

 

“I’ll expel you , if you don’t shut your mouth.” Bakugou closed his mouth, but the furious expression didn’t leave his face.

 

“Are we all done?” Aizawa asked the class. No one said anything. “Good. Let’s finish this quickly, I need an aspirin.”

 

 

 

 

Bakugou stormed back to the classroom, the events that had just occurred swirling in his head.

 

They weren’t going to expel Deku?

 

But he’d gotten in on chance! He was a fluke! A failure!

 

So why wasn’t he going away?!

 

On the way to the classroom, he saw through the window, the auditorium, just as everyone was flooding out. He brushed past the hordes of people finishing up their entrance ceremony, when someone brushed by him rather rudley.

 

“Hey, watch it, shitbug-” Bakugou stopped, when he saw the familiar patch of green hair walking away in the distance.

 

 

 

Smirking.

 

 

 

“Hey Bakugou, you coming?” He blonde with the stupid static quirk called to him. Bakugou turned, and shouted something obscene.

 

Behind him, Momo watched as he walked away.

 

She’d seen Deku as well.

Chapter Text

Midoriya sat alone at lunch the next day.

 

It wasn’t that he wanted too. No one had invited him to sit with them, so he was stuck eating crummy lunch food alone.

 

He was glad he wasn’t the only one sitting by themselves though. Bakugou was also sitting alone, but when Midoriya made a motion to go sit with him, Bakugou had glared him down until he backed off.

 

So now he was alone.

 

Which sucked.

 

What was the point of coming to a hero school if he didn’t have any friends to share his triumphs with?


“Excuse me?” Midoriya turned.

 

A pretty-looking girl was standing in front of him, her slightly spiky black hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. It looked like she had attacked it with a straightening iron, but it just wouldn’t stay down.

 

Midoriya could relate.

 

“Yes?” He asked, facing towards her. “Do you need something?”

 

The girl scratched her head awkwardly. “I… can I sit here?”

 

Midoriya blinked. He wasn’t expecting anyone to sit with him, much less a girl.

 

“Uhh, sure.” The girl exhaled through her nose in a visible sigh of relief, and sat down. Straightening her tie, she stuck out her hand. Midoriya noticed she had painted her nails.

 

“My name is Yayozoru Momo, but you can call me Momo,” She said, a small warm smile on her face. “What’s yours?”

 

“Oh - Midoriya Izuku,” He shook her hand. “H- Hi.”

 

Inwardly, Midoriya was screaming.

 

HOW DO YOU TALK TO GIRLS?!?!


“Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Momo replied, turning to her food, and breaking her chopsticks. “I was wondering… what happened at Aizawa’s office? He looked so angry, I was kind of worried.”

 

Oh.” Midoriya felt his face flush. “He… he was just asking about my quirk.”


“You don’t know what your quirk is.” Aizawa’s tone was cold and carefully controlled.

 

“No,” Midoriya could breathe again, now that those red eyes of his weren’t on him anymore. “I mean, I kind of do, it’s got something to do with technology I think but then it’s also done some other weird stuff so I don’t really know, and I was hoping you could help me with that-”

 

Aizawa held up his hand, and Midoriya shut up, clamping down on his tongue.

 

‘I’m not here to hear your excuses,” Aizawa replied, cold ice in his voice. “What I want to know is how you got in.”

 

Midoriya blinked. That was it?

 

“Oh - um - I panicked and blacked out during the entrance exam - I think my quirk went on autopilot after that.”

 

Aizawa rubbed his forehead and sighed, mumbling something about how the entrance exam was full of shit and this was why. Midoriya felt like he should be offended.

 

And he kind of was.

 

But Aizawa did have a point. How would he become a hero if he couldn’t even control his own quirk?




“Huh.” Momo poked at her rice, eyes flitting to her right. “I - I thought you don’t know what your quirk is.”

 

“I don’t.” He replied matter-of-factly, which caught Momo off guard.

 

“Oh.” They sat in silence for a few seconds.

 

“Well… whatever your quirk does, I’m sure it’s great.” She muttered. Midoriya looked away, hoping Momo couldn’t see how red his ears were.

 

“Thanks.” He muttered.

 

They didn’t say anything for the rest of lunch.





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You think we should invite Midoriya over?” Iida looked up from his food to see Uraraka looking at the green-haired boy in the corner.

 

‘I don’t know, Uraraka. I don’t want to intrude, he looks fine.” Iida replied, going back to his food.

 

Truthfully, something about the boy rubbed him the wrong way. Iida wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something. His presence just fell… off, like a smile with too many teeth.

 

But Uraraka didn’t seem to mind. He was probably just being paranoid.

 

“Oh - wait - Momo’s going over to say hi, never mind.”

 

Iida perked up, and so did Mina, who was sitting with Kaminari and Sero a table over.

 

“Don’t you think it’s a little early in the year for that?” Mina snickered. “It’s only the second day.”

 

“A guy and a girl can be friends without liking each other.” Iida retorted. “If Momo and Midoriya are friends, that doesn’t mean they’re dating.”

 

“Yeah, look at you and Kirishima,” Sero piped up, “Y’all have been friends since middle school, and are you two dating?”

 

“Fair enough,” Mina mumbled, and went back to her food.

 

 

 

 

Iida turned back to Midoriya.

 

He didn’t know what was wrong. But it was something.

 

And Iida was determined to know what.






“I AM HERE! BURSTING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON - ”

 

The last thing that Toshinori had expected to see when he joined UA was a familiar round face staring at him from the back of the room.

 

The boy hadn’t changed a bit, his face still childlike, his demeanor still too calm. But it was him.

 

Midoriya Izuku was an anomaly, that was for sure. But it didn’t change the fact he knew who he was.

 

And now he was here.

 

It seemed like Toshinori couldn’t turn without running into this boy.

 

Recovering from his initial shock, he explained to the class about the exercise, everyone seemed excited, even the stoic bird-boy, Tokoyami. Toshinori tried to copy their enthusiasm, but he couldn't, stomach churning with nerves.

 

He got the feeling, when he released them to go change into their hero uniforms, that something bad was going to happen.


And the feeling worsened when for a split second, Midoriya stared at him dead in the eye.

 

This was going to be a rough year.

Chapter Text

Midoriya wasn’t sure if his outfit choice was the most… inspired. At least, compared to the others.


He was wearing a green jumpsuit, a dark shade that would blend into his surroundings if it was dark enough. The suit had a hoodie on it, one that also doubled as a mask. He didn’t change his shoes (screw him, he liked his red converse), but he did have a couple tricks up his sleeve, that being a blowpipe and a few tranquilizer blow darts strapped on his arm under the sleeves, so if anything went wrong, he could always use that. He also had various gadgets concealed in his costume, including a grappling hook, a blunt throwing knife, and several smoke grenades and flash bombs.

 

Despite all this, he really didn't feel prepared. Like, at all.


He tried to distract himself by looking at everyone else’s costumes. Uraraka was standing right next to him, wearing what looked like a pink, skintight astronaut suit. The blue-haired guy was wearing what looked like… knight armour - oh dear, Momo, please put some clothes on - Midoriya looked away quickly, before she moved over to stand by him.

 

“It’s okay,” She said. “I’m not a big fan of this costume either, but it’s funcional for me.”

 

“Yeah, but like - couldn’t you wear something a little less… revealing?” Midoriya mumbled.

 

“It’s part of my quirk.” Momo replied, looking away. “But if it’s making people uncomfortable, I’ll change it.”

 

“I think it’s fine!” A small purple-haired midget wearing …. A diaper? Piped up, earning him a smack on the head from the frog girl. Momo looked away, red.

 

“Yeah, I think I’ll put in a note to the support team to change it.”

 

“Same,” Uraraka piped in, pulling at her costume. “I like mine, I just wish it weren’t so tight.”

 

“At least yours isn’t boring.” Midoriya responded, tugging at his sleeves. “Mine’s so bland.”

 

“I think it’s fine,” “Yeah I agree,” Momo and Uraraka piped up at the same time. They both looked at eachother.

 

“Function over form Uraraka.” Momo reminded her.

 

“Yeah, but like, you could spice it up with a few decorations or something -”



The faint static buzzing in Midoriya’s head suddenly spiked up, drowning out the other’s conversation. Midoriya turned, to see where the cause of this was coming from.


His phone buzzed.



Midoriya pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the text.

 

He didn’t recognize the number. He frowned, about to delete it, when another text popped up.


Listen. We will go up against Kacchan. Do you want this half to take over for yourself?


Midoriya’s heart leapt into his throat, instantly recognizing the odd phrasing.

 

It was the person in his computer. The person who claimed to be him. Or part of him, anyways.

 

Who are you??? Midoriya responded.

 

Look, The number replied, sounding almost exasperated. I’m you, this conversation has already happened. Do you want help, or not?

 

Midoriya paled.

 

Leave me alone.

 

I can’t do that.

 

Who are you?

 

Who are you?


The last response caught Midoriya off guard. He quickly deleted the number, and turned his phone on silent, just in time for All Might to walk in.

 

The static in his head didn't stop. If anything it got louder. Uraraka had to repeat herself three times before he could hear her.

 

“HEY DEKU!!” She yelled in his ear. He jumped, surprised, and whirled around.

 

“Sorry - got distracted. Yeah?”

 

She mouthed something about the lesson. Midoriya couldn’t really hear her over the peals of cracking noises in his head, swimming, like his vision, and his stomach -


A hand was brought down on his shoulder. The static stopped.

 

“I’m going to win.” Bakugou growled. Midoriya didn’t move an inch.

 

Maybe if I stay still, he’ll go away.



“You hear me? That time at school was a fluke. You’re going down.”


Midoriya didn’t feel like he had full control of his body anymore, and before he knew it, the words fell from his lips.


“You did such a good job at school.”

 

Bakugou’s hand heated up. Midoriya still didn't move. You couldn’t show any weakness with Bakugou. None whatsoever.

 

“What did you say.” Bakugou hissed.

 

“I said, you couldn’t do it at school.” Midoriya turned, an alien cold fury overtaking his body, causing poison soaked words to fall from his lips.

 

“So what makes you think you can do it now?”

 

Bakugou was silent for a second. Then, he leaned in, and growled;


“Because I’m better than you. And don’t you ever forget that.”



Midoriya felt something slimy worm his way up his stomach and out of his mouth, something strange and foreign overtaking his limbs-




Midoriya chucked.

 

And then, it broke into a full-body cackle. Soon, he was hunched over on himself, laughing hysterically.

 

Bakugou clenched his fists, and grabbed Midoriya by the collar. “Is this a joke to you?” He asked, palms cracking.

 

“I mean, when you put it that way, yeah, kind of.” Midoriya managed to wheeze out, still laughing.

 

“Why you LITTLE -”


“Bakugou!” Bakugou let go of Midoriya to see Iida waving at him from the distance by the building they were going to be in.

 

“If you’re quite done talking to yourself, we’ve got an exercise to do!” He shouted sternly, tapping his foot.

 

“Talking to myself -” Bakugou turned back to see that Midoriya was gone.



“Wait - Where’d Midoriya go?!” He shouted, running over to Iida.

 

“He and Uraraka went into the briefing hall about three minutes ago. Why do you ask?”












“What’s the game plan?” Uraraka asked, twisting her knuckles nervously.

 

“Um - I have no idea.” Midoriya replied, looking at the intimidating building. “They hid the bomb somewhere, on one of the levels. I don’t think they’d do the first or fifth, that’s too obvious, so out best bet is to start on the fourth floor.”

 

“Wow, you’re like - good at this analytical stuff.” Uraraka remarked. Midoriya flushed, ears turning purple.

 

“Uh - well I wouldn’t say good - at least in the traditional sense -”

 

“Okay, shut up.” Uraraka tapped his head, laughing when he started shrieking when his feet left the ground. She levetated herself as well, and the two of them started scaling the building.

 

Once they’d gotten inside, Uraraka looked around. “What now?” She whispered.

 

Midoriya scanned the area. “I have no idea.” He mumbled.








“What’s the plan?” Iida asked, tapping his feet nervously.

 

“Beat the shit out of them” Bakugou replied, looking out of an intimidating window. “Don’t get in my way.”

 

“Don’t be a buffoon Bakugou, we need to think” Iida remarked. Bakugou flushed, face turning red.

 

“Look, you stay here and do your thing with the bomb or whatever - I don’t give a flying fuck. Besides, do you have any better ideas?”

 

“Well-” Bakugou ignored Iida’s flustered muttering and started walking away, intent on beating the shit out of that nerd.

 

Once he’d gotten to the third floor, he looked around. What now?, he thought.

 

He didn’t need need to wait too long for an answer, because, the minute he turned into the hallway, he saw Midoriya standing there, looking right at him.

 

 

 

 

 

“Midoriya,” He hissed.

 

“What happened to Deku?” Midoriya remarked.

 

Bakugou lost it, launching himself forward with an explosive blast. Midoriya made a move to catch his arm, but Bakugou narrowly avoided it, twisting himself so that his palms were right towards Midoriya’s face. He fired, Midoriya ducking to avoid it.

 

Midoriya made a move to kick, Bakugou jumping out of the way, turning again to punch him in the face. His fist finally made contact with something hard and he heard a loud CRUUUUNNCH!

 

 

At the same time, a stinging pain shot through his nose, causing him to lose his balance and fall on his ass. He held a hand up to his nose, realizing that it was broken.

 

Fuck, how had that happened? He’d punched Midoriya, not himself -

 

“You FUCKER.” Bakugou stood again, slightly wobbly. “YOU LITTLE BIT-”


He froze.






Looking back on it now, Bakugou didn’t really remember what Midoriya’s face looked like. It had faded into a smudge of twisted shadows and crooked grins in his mind.

 

But at the moment, he could see.


His sensory input stopped working, brain refusing to except what was in front of him. He just couldn’t compute.

 

But all he knew that there was something wrong, wrong, wrong with Midoriya’s face, twisted and blurred into something that shouldn’t exist, no, what WAS that, because it couldn’t be Midoriya-


YOUR FAULT.” The words weren’t really spoken, more just shot into Bakugou’s brain at lightning speed.

 

“No - Get away from me!” Anger was quenched with an icy terror, shooting through his whole body, all thoughts defaulting to the fight-or-flight response.


And for once, Bakugou chose flight.


He tried to run, but he was at the end of the hallway, staring at himself, and suddenly he wasn’t, he was at his old school, something terrifying and red lurking in front of him, screaming things to his face about how worthless and pathetic he was. Bakugou backed away, eyes unable to peel away from whatever Izuku had turned him into, a twisted monster intent on death and failure.

 

YOUR FAULT.” There it was again.

 

“No! I didn’t-” The crooked mound of flesh laughed again, stretching out what seemed to be like a hand, palms crackling to life, a familiar sound that he’d known his whole life -

 

“STOP IT!!!” Bakugou screamed in frustration, a cacophony of maniac laughter ringing back to him, something cold and slimy and wet and alien crawling up his back -




And it was all gone. All there was was Izuku, arms wrapped around his neck from behind.


“Your fault.” He said, in his own voice. “Pathetic.”



 

 

The dam of anger broke.

 

 

 

And the room lit up gold.










 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Midoriya and Uraraka had found Iida, standing by the bomb.

 

“What are we going to do?” Uraraka mumbled.

 

Midoriya pulled out his blowpipe, and inserted a tranquilizer.

 

“Watch this.” He whispered.



He took aim, and fired.



His aim was true. He’d aimed for the small patch of exposed skin under Iida’s helmet, and by some miracle, he’d hit. Iida looked surprised for a second, then crumpled over and passed out.


“Wow!” Uraraka exclaimed, as she broke the levitation, and they both fell to the ground. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

 

“It’s really easy, actually. You just need good aim.” They stepped over Iida’s unconscious body, and touched the mock bomb.


Just as the alarm blared that the exercise was over, an enormous explosion sound issued from a few floors down, followed by an intense rumbling. Midoriya wobbled, and fell over, Uraraka just barely managing to catch him, shaking from the tremors.


“What was that?!” Uraraka exclaimed. Iida poked his head up, the explosion having woken him up.

 

“What’s happening?” He exclaimed, taking off his helmet.

 

“I think something happened to Bakugou.” Midoriya replied, darting to the stairs.



When they got down, they had to stop.



The entire third floor had been decimated, only a few patches of concrete and rubble left. In the center of the smoke and fire, was Bakugou, pupils blown wide, pale, and shaking, hands smoking and clenched into fists.


“What the hell -” Iida muttered. “Is he really this angry about losing?”

 

“No, he’s in shock!” Uraraka responded, bounding over to him. “Bakugou, say something!”

 

He didn’t speak, eyes frantic and darting. Midoriya felt the static in his head return, oddly silent this whole time.

 

“I’ll get Recovery Girl.” Iida said, activating his quirk and running off. Leaving Uraraka and Midoriya with Bakugou.

 

“What do you think is wrong?” Uraraka asked.

 

“I don’t-” He was interrupted by Bakugou mumbling something.

 

“Not…”

 

“What?” Both Uraraka and Midoriya turned to him, to see Bakugou breathing rapidly and sweating bullets.

 

“Not my fault -” He muttered, looking entirely out of it.


Midoriya and Uraraka looked at each other.



They weren’t sure what had happened, but whatever went down, something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.


Chapter Text

Recovery Girl confirmed Midoriya’s and Uraraka’s suspicion that yes, Bakugou was in shock. From what, that had yet to be determined.

 

 

Midoriya felt awful.

 

 

 

He’d done something. He just knew it. What other reason would Bakugou have to go into shock over something as insignificant as losing a match?

 

 

 

No, it was something else. Despite what Iida said, it had to do with his quirk.

 

 

 

So when he told the others that he was going to stay in the hospital wing until Bakugou woke up, they looked surprised.

 

 

“He’s going to be fine Midoriya.” Iida said. “I assure you, he didn’t get any life threatening injuries, there’s no reason for you to stay longer then you have to.”

 

 

Midoriya shook his head. “This was my fault.” He mumbled.

 

 

 

Uraraka and Iida looked at eachother. “Midoriya, there’s no way this was because of you,” Uraraka started, but stopped when they spotted a familiar figure dashing down the halls towards them.

 

 

“Is everyone okay?!” Momo exclaimed, ponytail loose and sides heaving from running down the hall so fast. “I heard what happened - no one’s hurt, right?”

 

“Everyone’s okay, Yayazoru.” Iida replied, casting a glance at the door to the hospital wing. “For some reason, Bakugou went into shock, and Recovery Girl had to put him under for a while.”

 

“Shock?” Momo exclaimed. “I - how’d that happen?”

 

“We don’t know.” Uraraka interjected before Midoriya could say anything about his suspicion. “Deku here thinks that he did something, but I think he’s just feeling guilty.”

 

“It’s not just guilt, I think-” Just then, Recovery Girl opened the door and glared at them.

 

 

 

“What are you all still doing loitering out here? Shoo! You’ll disturb my patient!” She squawked. The others hastily bowed, apologized, and turned tail and ran, except for Midoriya, who held his ground.

 

 

“I’m going to stay until he wakes up, I need to ask him something.” Midoriya said.

 

Recovery Girl frowned. “He’s not going to be up for a while, young man. Those were some very strong sedatives I put him on, and he’s going to need some rest.”

 

“Please?” Midoriya asked, trying to summon his best puppy-dog eyes. “I’m really quiet - he’s my friend, I need to make sure he’s okay.”

 

 

Recovery Girl stared at him for a second.

 

Two seconds.

 

 

Then, she sighed. “Fine.” She muttered. “As long as you don’t make those creepy bug-eyes at me - and don’t make any noise.” She hissed. Midoriya nodded quickly, and texted his mom about what was happening.






 

 

 

Inky darkness.

 

 

 

It felt like sleep, but more… wrong. Like something was off about it.

 

 

Bakugou attempted to lift the thick veil of black overcoming his sense, obscuring his vision and his memories.

 

What had happened? How had he gotten here?

 

 

 

He twisted, and turned, trying to find a fold of the veil he could grab onto and pull, to try and get it away.

 

He spotted one out of the corner of his eye, and made a break for it.


But stopped.

 

 

 

Feeling cold eyes behind him.

 

“You don’t want to lift that.”

 

 

 

He turned, static filling his head and his ears.

 

 

 

Another version of him stared back.

 

 

 

Only it wasn’t.


There was something off about this other him. Whether it was the eyes were too glassy, the limbs were too limp, or his face was too blank, it was just wrong.

 

 

Too wrong.


“Why not.” He growled.

 

 

“Some things should stay hidden.” The other Bakugou said. “You covered that up for a reason.”

 

“Fuck off.” Bakugou growled. But he didn’t make a move to lift the veil.

 

“I’m serious.” The other him said, face distorting into something twisted before shifting back to the blank version of himself. “You aren’t meant to remember what you saw.”

 

“Why not.”

 

“No one is. That boy showed you something you weren’t supposed to know.”

 

 

 

Bakugou hesitated.

 

 

 

“Who are you?”

 

“Name me.”

 

 

 

He blinked.


The static in his head was even louder. A warning.

 

This… thing, wasn’t him. This thing wasn’t even human.

 

 

 

 

But maybe it had a point.


“Fuck off.” Bakugou repeated.

 

 

 

And the whole scene blurred together, like a ruined watercolor painting.

 

 

 

He caught a glimpse of the other him, twisted into - something, some hunk of nothingness and something wrong, until the scene wove itself back together, and the thing melted away, leaving only a familiar freckled face behind.






“Bakugou?” Midoriya stood up, out of the chair he’d been sitting in. At some point, he had fallen asleep, waiting for him to get up. Now, it was dark, some time early in the morning.

 

 

“Hey -” Midoriya reached out his hand, and Bakugou shot back, scrambling away, knocking the sheets off, in his desperate attempt to get as far away from Midoriya as possible.

 

 

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down!” Midoriya sprung up and tried to get Bakugou to calm down, but moved away when he saw the wild, animalistic terror in his eyes. Bakugou’s breathing was harsh and ragged, and Midoriya slowly moved to stand next to him, waiting until he calmed down.

 

Once his breathing had evened out, Bakugou turned, eyes clear for the first time, and scowled.

 

“What. in the fresh titty just happened?” He muttered, having realized that it was like, one ‘o clock, and he needed to shut up.

 

“Oh thank god.” Midoriya moved in for a hug, but Bakugou pushed him away, his palm on Midoriya’s face.

 

“Yeah no, not happening.” He said, sounding miffed. Midoriya blinked remembering that Bakugou and him weren’t exactly on friend terms yet.

 

“Sorry,” He mumbled. Bakugou glared at him.

 

 

“Explain.” He said.

 

“Uh, actually, I was wondering if you could do that.” Midoriya replied. “What happened?”

 

“You go first, jackass.”

 

 

 

They both glared at each other. Then, Midoriya sighed.

 

“For some reason, during our match, you went into shock and…” He trailed off.

 

“What, what’d I do?” Bakugou said. Midoriya looked sheepish.

 

“Blewuphalfofthebuildingwewerein.”

 

 

“I fucking what.” Bakugou stated flatly, more to himself than anything. This was just great, now he was going to get expelled or something for that, fuck.

 

Deku’s nose wrinkled. “But why did that happen?” He mumbled, sitting down on the other edge of the hospital bed. “What happened down there?”

 

 

 

Bakugou scanned his memories for the recounting of the event. But when he tried, all that he could remember was static and the gut feeling of something bad, bad, bad, wrong and twisted -

 

“I… I dunno,” He replied. Deku’s face fell. “But it was something… bad.”

 

“Bad?” Deku replied.

 

 

“I - I don’t know what it was. I can’t remember, but I saw - saw something. Something that shouldn’t exist.”

 

 

Deku frowned. “That doesn’t tell me much,” He mumbled, mostly to himself. “Was it part of my quirk? I thought it had to do with technology, not showing people stuff, so-”

 

“Hey idiot,” Bakugou interrupted before he could spiral off into Deku-Land. “I don’t mean to be a dick, but please, fucking shut up.”

 

 

Deku closed his mouth.

 

Bakugou sighed, headache coming on. He rubbed his forehead. “You know what, I’m tired as all hell, so I’m going back to sleep, so go spew your quirk theories somewhere else."

 

 

“Oh -” Deku’s face was red, discernible even in the darkness. “Sorry Kacchan.”

 

He sat back down into the chair, and Bakugou sighed.

 

 

 

 

 

He’d think about all this later. But now, all he wanted to do was sleep.

 

Chapter Text

 

Recovery girl woke up the two with a brutal “UP!” Midoriya fell out of his chair and Bakugou shot up, palms crackling.


 

 

After Recovery girl calmed the two of them down, she gestured to the door. “Nedzu would like to talk to you two.” She said.

 

 

 

Midoriya gulped. Was he going to be expelled?

 

 

 

Bakugou was scared for a different reason. Nedzu… well, from what he had heard, he had a cold intelligence about him, one that pierced through villains and heroes alike. You couldn’t hide anything from him.


The two walked side-by-side to Nedzu’s office, marching as if they were going off to the gallows.


Midoriya opened his mouth to say something, then shut it at the downtrodden look on Bakugou’s face. He didn’t really have anything helpful to say anyways.


 

 

And soon they were there.

 

 

 

Nedzu stared at them the minute they stepped foot inside his office, his beady eyes catching every one of their movements. It was unnerving, to say the least. Aizawa stood next to him, All Might behind him, looking unusually… guilty?


 

What would he have to be guilty for?


 

 

“So,” Nedzu started, paws folded under his chin. “Can you give us a recount of what happened?”

 

The duo looked at each other.


“I was up on the fourth floor, and I took Iida out when it happened.” Midoriya said. “The ground started shaking, and -”

 

 

“Hold up,” Bakugou interjected, angry confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not true - I saw you in the third floor hallway.”

 

“What?” Midoriya exclaimed, looking confused. “I was with Uraraka - you can ask her!”

 

 

“Boys, please.” Nedzu held up a paw and they instantly fell silent.

 

 

“So what I’m getting is that you, Midoriya, remember being on the fourth floor during the time in which Bakugou saw you on the third.”

 

 

The two nod. Nedzu frowns, and casts a side glance at Aizawa.

 

 

“I see.” He says. Nedzu then turns to Bakugou. “I’d like to here your account of what transpired, if you don’t mind.”

 

 

 

Bakugou swallows. How was he supposed to describe this?

 

 

“I… I was on the third floor hallway, and I saw Midoriya. And we were fighting, but then -” Bakugou’s breath hitches, a strange static filling his mind.

 

 


That boy showed you something you’re not meant to see.


 

 

“I… I don't know what happened next.” Bakugou mumbles, face scrunched up, attempting to recall what had transpired. “I just… it was something bad.”

 

 

Nedzu stared at him for a minute.

 


“Bad?” Aizawa interjected.

 

“Bad.” Bakugou mumbled in response, head hung low.

 

 

Aizawa frowned, an looked back at Nedzu, who was now staring at Bakugou as if he were a very peculiar specimen. “Can you elaborate?” Nedzu asked. “I’m going to need more input.”

 

 

 

“I don’t -” The murky static was back, filling his ears and head. There was something - something horrible underneath it, but for the life of him, he just couldn't lift the veil that separated his mind from the truth.

 

 

“...I can’t remember.” Bakugou admitted. “But I know it was something really wrong. Like - I’m not sure if I can describe it to you kind of wrong.”

 

 

Aizawa and Nedzu casted glances at each other. All Might twisted his knuckles, gaze never leaving Midoriya, who pretended not to notice.

 

 

“I see.” Nedzu said, face betraying no emotion. “That will be all. You may leave.”

 

 

Bakugou and Midoriya stood up, but Nedzu pointed at Midoriya. “Not you.” He said. “You sit.”

 

 

 

Midoriya sat.

 

 

 

Bakugou looked back up at Nedzu apprehensively. “Thank you.” He mumbled, then bolted as fast as he could away from that cold office and the monsters that lurked inside and in his head.







 

 

Midoriya really wished All Might would stop staring at him.

 

 

Since he stepped foot into Nedzu’s office, All Might hadn’t. Stopped. Staring. At first it was creepy, but now it was just kind of annoying.

 

 

 

“Midoriya, are you sure that’s all you remember?” Nedzu asked softly, jolting Midoriya out of his thoughts.

 

 

 

“Uh - yeah. I’m sorry.” Aizawa frowned, and Midoriya suddenly got the impression that he was like an ant being held under a magnifying glass, ready to be fried at any second. The walls of the office felt cramped, and all of their faces started to blur into one.


 

 

 

 

Then the hissing started.

 

 

 

 

Midoriya looked down at his fingers again to see a strange vapor rising from his fingertips, just like at the beach that day, and he blinked.

 

 

The three teachers were still starting at him, seemingly unaware of the mist that obscured their faces.

 

 

Can they not see it?

 

 

 

What was going on?

 

 

 

“Midoriya?” All Might’s voice, surprisingly soft, snapped him back to reality. Pushing down the growing knot of dread in his stomach that something is horribly horribly wrong , and the fight or flight instincts, he looked up at the teachers.

 

 

“Yeah?” he managed to warble out.

 

 

“I said that you can go.” Nedzu said. Midoriya almost fainted from relief, the roof now crowded with vapor only he could see. He stood up, bowed so fast that all the blood went rushing to his head and out in the blink of an eye, and ran for the door.

 

 

But then-

 

 

“I have one last question.” Midoriya’s heart plummeted to his shoes.

 

 

 

“Where were you on the night of January twenty first of this year?”

 

 

 

Midoriya’s heart rose back from the depths of hell into its normal spot. It wasn’t a question about the vapor, or the alien panic he was feeling.

 

 

“I was asleep.” He replied. “At my mom’s house - you can ask her.”

 

 

 

Nedzu frowned, as if displeased with the answer, but waved his paw to signal him to go. Midoriya shot out the door, breathing in fresh, non-steamy air, and clenched his fists to try and get his fingers to stop doing the thing.




 

 

They didn’t comply, of course. Because nothing in life can ever be easy for any of us.





 

 

 

 

“He’s hiding something.” Aizawa said the moment Midoriya Izuku bolted from the office, pushing down the knot of alien dread in his stomach.

 

Nedzu nodded. “I figured that was apparent. But I wasn’t able to discern what.”

 

 

All Might looked back and forth from the two of them, as if he was watching a fascinating tennis match. “Really?” He said, sounding confused. “I didn’t notice.”

 

 

“Toshinori, there’s more to heroics then punching people,” Aizawa muttered, his usual feeling of disdain for the man return, overtaking his dread and fear. “Many heroes also have studied psychology - myself included - and it’s quite handy in hostage and interrogation.” Nedzu nodded, silencing All Might’s (most likely indignant) reply.

 

 

“There’s something off about that kid.” Aizawa said, more to himself than anyone else. Nedzu nodded.

 

“From what physical cues he’s giving me, I’d think that there might be something wrong with his mental state, but I’m baffled to what it could be. He’s not showing any signs of physical or mental abuse, he certainly isn’t suffering untreated anxiety or depression, and there’s a myriad of other signs all pointing in different directions.”

 

 

“You know what I think?” All Might interjected. Aizawa rolled his eyes, but Nedzu nodded.

 

 

“It’s like… well, Midoriya reminds me of someone who’s impersonating a human, but hasn’t quite mastered it yet.”

 

 

 

Aizawa blinked at All Might’s surprisingly intuitive statement. Nedzu nodded as well.

 

 

 

“That’s an apt way of putting it, Toshinoi.” All Might rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. “I’d have to agree. And there’s the thorny matter of finding out what the incident with you at the bridge,” Nedzu pointed to All Might, “apparently breaking into my campus in the middle of the night, and being in two places at once, was all about.”

 

 

 

“If you ask me, this kid’s more trouble than he’s worth.” Aizawa mumbled. “We could always just kick him out and get it over with.”

 

 

“Absolutely not.” Nedzu said sternly. “So he’s a little alienating, it might just be the way he is. But unlike you,” He pointed a paw at Aizawa,  “I actually strive to understand my students, instead of just throwing away whatever I think is unnecessary.”

 

 

Aizawa stuttered, face red, then shut his mouth. All Might gave him a sympathetic look. He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of Nedzu's sharp remarks.

 

 

 

“Both of you, keep an eye on Midoriya. But in the meantime, don’t worry too much about him.”

 

 

 

“Worry about Bakugou,” Aizawa grumbled as he left the office. “He’s showing signs of trauma-induced amnesia.”

 

 

Nedzu frowned. “I know, Aizawa.” he said.



 

 

 

 

 

“I know.”

Chapter Text

Momo caught up to Midoriya the next morning, and immediately wasn’t fooled by his best impression of a completely healthy and sane person.

 

“You haven’t slept at all, have you.” Momo said.

 

Midoriya sighed, looking down at his no-longer-steaming hands. “How’d you guess?” He muttered in defeat.

 

“You’ve got eyebags the size of Japan under your eyeballs,” Momo laughed, turning so she could walk and talk to Midoriya at the same time. “Also, your posture is a little-” She mimed a very exaggerated hunchback, and Midoriya flushed red.

 

“Oh-” He twisted around to try and see what was wrong with his back, ignoring Momo’s chuckles. “Momo, stop, it’s not that funny -”



 

“What the hell are you two doing?” The duo turned to see a sullen looking Bakugou, hands in his pockets, tromp past them. “You look like morons - more than you normally do anyways.”



Momo and Midoriya’s gazes followed him into the building. When he was gone, Momo burst into laughter. Midoriya, embarrassed, power-walked into the building, ignoring his red ears and the sound of Momo laughing at him.






Bakugou couldn’t concentrate.

 

He tried his best, mind you. But his mind kept drifting back to the conversation he’d had with Deku the other day after Nedzu had let him go.






“So, what’d he say?” Bakugou asked, looking the other way.

 

“He was just wondering if I knew more than you did.” Deku replied. “And something about January… I dunno, it was weird.” The nerd kept glancing at his fingers, as if he expected them to pop off at any moment.

 

“Nedzu’s kind of a weirdo in general.” Bakugou replied, getting his bag and heading for the door. “He’s a little freaky too. Don’t take anything he says seriously.”

 

“He’s one of the smartest beings in the world - I think I will take him seriously, thank you very much.” Deku retorted, speed-walking to catch up with Bakugou. “Besides, he did have a point. This probably has something to do with my quirk.”

 

Bakugou scoffed. “Your quirk is fucking weird.” He said, more to himself than anyone else.






 

It was more than weird. It was, like Nedzu, kind of freaky. But the more things that happened, the more Bakugou was convinced that whoever kicked him in the face at school wasn’t Deku.

 

But the question remains.

 

Who could it have been?





Bakugou looked out the window, confused. He took note of the trees surrounding the UA campus. The shiney glass on the buildings. The freckled figure standing at the gate.

 

 

Wait.



Bakugou did a double take, at the boy standing in front of the gate, peering right back at him. His hair was green, and he was short.

 

It was a mirror image of Deku.

 

That - that’s not possible - Bakugou’s head whipped around to see Deku, seated behind him, diligently taking notes. He can’t be out there and in here at the same time - He turned back to look at the other Deku.

 

The other Deku waved at him.



 

 

“Excuse me?!” Present Mic looked surprised to be interrupted during his english lesson, much less by Bakugou.

 

“What is it?” He said.

 

“I need to use the bathroom,” Present Mic was surprised by the urgency in this young boy’s voice, but he obliged.



Bakugou dashed, top speed, down the stairs, through the front hall, and out UA’s massive doors. He looked frantically, for Deku’s doppelganger.



But he was nowhere to be found.






 

 

“We’ve got a special exercise tomorrow.” Momo said.

 

She had sat with Midoriya again at lunch. He appreciated the company, his fear of being a friendless loser quelled. (He wasn’t exactly sure why Momo was sitting with him, but he’d take what he could get in the friends department.)

 

“We do?” Midoriya took a big bite of his bento. Truth was, he’d already overheard Aizawa and Present Mic discussing it in the teachers lounge, but Momo seemed so excited by this, that he decided to humor her.

 

“Yeah - apparently we’ll get to practice our rescuing skill and whatnot. I’m really nervous - but also excited.” Midoriya half-listened to Momo’s rambling, amused that she did the exact same thing he did when he was nervous or excited.

 

 

His eyes fell on Bakugou, sitting alone at another table. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds.

 

Midoriya detected the usual suspicion. But now there was a touch of - fear?

 

What is he afraid of?



 

“Midoriya?” Midoriya jumped, and swivel back, to see Momo staring at him. “You know, if you want to invite him over to the table, you could just ask.”

 

“Who? Oh - Kacchan? No -” Midoriya stuttered out, red face down on the table. “He hates me.”

 

Momo stared at Bakugou, head tilted in curiosity. “That’s not the face of someone who hates you. He looks… intrigued, almost.”

 

“Intrigued?” But Momo had already gotten up, walking over to the lone boy. “Momo, no!” Midoriya whisper-shouted.

 

But it was too late. She had introduced herself, and was now talking to him. Midoriya groaned, and placed his head down on the table, the second-hand embarrassment killing him.



 

But to his surprise, Bakugou and Momo sat back down at the table. He peeked his head up.

 

 

“Titsmgee over here invited me over.” He said in his usual dismissive voice. “Don’t get any ideas.”

 

Ignoring Momo’s indignant scoff at the nickname, Midoriya could still make out the same trace of fear he’d seen in him earlier. Which begged the question.




 

 

Kacchan, what are you so afraid of?



Chapter Text

Turns out Momo and Bakugou get along pretty well, which is kind of weird.

 

Whatever it was about their personalities, Momo’s being calm, but actually being pretty funny once you got to know her, or Bakugou’s sudden shift into slightly less of an asshole but still sarcastic as all hell, it seemed to work. Whatever the case, Midoriya was happy Bakugou wasn’t lone-wolfing it. Despite the fact that Bakugou hates - hated - him, Midoriya still worries about the guy.

 

Bleeding heart.

 

“Hey,” Momo shouted over the din of the bus. “Anyone know when we’re going to get to the place?”

 

No one responds. They probably can’t hear her.

 

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Like, another half -hour at least.” he says. Since the incident, his hero outfit’s been modified, the grenade gauntlets no longer ginormous, rather being wrist-sized cuffs he’s wearing on his hands. Why that in particular was changed, Midoriya has no idea.

 

“Hey,” Someone yelled over the din to Midoriya. It’s the pink-haired girl, Mina, if he’s right. “You’re Midoriya, right?”

 

He nodded, not trusting himself to not fuck up and say something stupid.

 

“You know - we’ve all been wondering - what does your quirk do?”

 

“Um -” Midoriya’s throat seized up, but he’s saved from having to respond by the bus jerking to a stop.

 

 

“All right smalls. Move it or lose it.” Aizawa says. Momo gave Bakugou a look as if to say: you were wrong, suck it, and flounced off the bus.

 

 

Midoriya made a move to get off at the end, but was stopped by Bakugou, holding a hand in front of him to block his path. Midoriya looked up, into red eyes, narrowed with various emotions he doesn’t really want to describe.

 

 

“I don’t care what shit you pulled earlier, or that we’re both friends with the same person.” Bakugou growled lowly. “You’re still going down.”

 

Midoriya gulped.

 

“...Okay.”

 

“What?” Bakugou took another step closer, the two almost face to face. Midoriya’s eyes barely reach up to Bakugou’s nose. He forced himself to look up.

 

“I said okay.” He clenched his fists. “If you want to beat me, fine. But I just think there are more worthwhile things you could do with your life.”

 

Bakugou stared, and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Aizawa sticking his head back inside the bus.

 

“If you two are done flirting, get your butts outside. You’re holding up the rest of the class.”

 

Ignoring both boys squeaks of embarrassment, Aizawa stalked off, presumably to go shout at everyone else.

 

 

Midoriya turned to Bakugou, who was stubbornly not looking at him. “I mean it,” Midoriya said quietly, voice wobbling. “If you focus on me so much, you’ll never get past anyone else. There are better people here than me.”

 

Midoriya walked towards the bus door, but stopped when he heard Bakugou mumble something.

 

 

“Pardon?” He says.

 

“I - I focus on you because it’s you!” Bakugou bursted out, fists curling. Midoriya took a step back at the anger in his voice. “You’re the only person I’ve never beaten.”

 

“...You’ve beat me so many times, Kacchan.” Midoriya countered, slipping back into his old nickname for him. “You’ve always been stronger than me.”

 

“You - look, can we not right now? This isn’t really the time.” Bakugo says, brushing past Midoriya, refusing to look at him.

 

Midoriya was left alone on the bus, staring at the empty spot where Bakugou once was.

 

“...Sorry?”

 

He’d never understand Bakugou.



When they stepped inside, someone blurred right past them, presumably Iida.

 

“What the hell -” Midoriya turned to see Bakugou staring at something in the middle of the field, hands shaking in horror.

 

There was some sort of portal swirling in the middle of the field, and various goons of all shapes and sizes were pouring out of it. In the center, was a scrawny man, severed hands adorning his arms and legs. The nastiest looking one of all was draped over his face, but Midoriya could still make out one single red eye, glaring right at the duo.

 

“I - is this part of the exercise?” Midoriya said, taking a step back.

 

“No - those are vi-” Suddenly, the same portal of purple mist opened up under the pair’s feet. Midoriya let out a squawk, just in time to fall right inside. He reached out to grab Bakugou’s hand -

 

-but Bakugou didn’t take it.

 

Then, Midoriya was sitting in the middle of the field, the same hand-man leering down at him, only a few feet away.

 

“Well, well, what have we here?”






I’m getting a little sick of all this. I mean - c’mon. I could destroy this entire building and I’m just sitting on the sidelines?! That’s so lame!

 

Maybe you should do something.

 

And risk provoking blasty’s wrath? No thank you. I don’t want to have to blow his face off. His face is too pretty for that.

 

...You’re disgusting.

 

It’s called hormones number three, and I happen to be - oh.

 

Oh what.

 

No numbers obscuring what I’m saying.

 

 

Oh yeah. Odd. Usually we can never speak this directly.

 

Odd? Is that all you have to say?! This is amazing! I can finally tell them what’s on my mind!! I can -

Chapter Text

Bakugou landed head first in a fountain, cracking the plaster. He floundered for a moment, forgetting how to breathe, but then surfaced, spitting up chlorine filled water, and took a moment to catch his breath, lungs burning.

 

 

Breathe in. “You’ve always been stronger than me.”

 

 

Breathe out. “If you focus on me so much, you’ll never get past anyone else.”

 

 

Breathe in. “Whatever happened to Deku?”

 

 

 

Breathe out. In.

 

 

 

“Some things aren’t meant to be seen.”


Fuck.

 

 

 

The nerd had reached for him. He could see the image in his mind, Midoriya reaching out to grab on to him, to something. And Bakugou, being selfish, didn’t take it.

 

 

 

 

He was scared.

 

Finally admitting it to himself felt… less horrible than he expected. He expected the shred of weakness he was letting himself show to sting, a wound to his pride.

 

He was scared of Midoriya.


“Fuck -” He groaned, standing up. His legs wobbled, and his head hurt so much - he couldn’t think straight.

 

The only thought that was really in his mind was find Midoriya. Because if he was on his own - if he died -

 

 

Then Bakugou would be left with whatever their relationship was supposed to be, a tangled, horrible mess that he’s have to unknot himself.

 

 

And god fucking dammit , he wasn’t ready to do that alone.

 

“Bakugou!”

 

Someone caught his arm. It was the red-head, the one who was always smiling. Only he wasn’t now.

 

 

 

“Where are you -” Bakugou wrenched his arm away, and tried to run, but only managed a feeble stagger, before tripping. Spikey quickly helped him up.

 

“You’ve got a concussion dude.” He said quietly, sickening concern lacing his voice. “What -”

 

“Midoriya -” Bakugou croaked, fists clenched. “He’s-”

 

“What?” Spikey looked at him with actual fear in his eyes. “Where is he?”

 

“He’s - the hand villain- “ And his whole world crumpled away before his eyes when he heard a loud crash and Kirishima dropped him.







 

 

 

 

 

 

“A straggler I see.” The hand-man leered at Midoriya, the stench of disinfectant and rotting flesh stinging his nose. “I know you. You’re the useless one - the one who doesn’t know what his quirk is.”

 

“I -” Midoriya stuttered, a knot forming in his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the portal man, calmly discussing something over the phone.

 

 

I’m gonna die.

 

I’m gonna die.

 

I’m gonna -

 

Keep him distracted.

 

 

The thought entered and exits his brain so fast that Midoriya nearly missed it.

 

 

That’s right. If I can get him to talk - then maybe I can get him to wait long enough until the heroes arrive.

 

“You - you’ve got a lot of guts, coming here.” Midoriya warbled out, trying to sound braver than he felt. “What’s the point of all this anyways?”

 

 

“Why should I tell you, quirkless.” The man spat. Midoriya flinched. It’d been a long time since he’s heard those words.

 

“I - I mean, you’ve got me here. And I can’t really fight you.” Midoriya shrugged, doing his best impression of nonchalant tone. “Might as well just entertain me.”

 

 

 

The figure made of shadows laughed, apparently done with his call. “I’d be careful with this one, young master.” He said. “He’s clever.”

 

“His words don’t fool me,” The man hissed, turning back to Midoriya. Midoriya caught a glimpse of wrinkly, rotted skin, underneath the hand. He gulped, pushing the all-too-familiar knot of dread down in his stomach.







 

 

 

 

 

 

“Get up.”

 

Bakugou opened his eyes, head stinging. What had happened?

 

 

 

“You really shouldn't fall asleep with a concussion, unless you want to wake up with a stutter.”

 

 

Someone was leaning over him. The voice was familiar.

 

 

 

“Kacchan, get up!

 

 

Bakugou bolted up to a sharp slap on the left side of his face. He turned, to see an unharmed Midoriya leering at him.

 

 

 

“Deku-?!” Bakugou sputtered. “How’d you -”

 

“Never mind all that,” Midoriya replied dismissively, voice far too airy and light for the situation. “You’ve gotta go.”

 

He offered a hand. Bakugou swatted it away.

 

“I don’t want your pity, damn nerd.” He hissed, ignoring the pain in his head.

 

“So you rather I leave you to die in the dirt?” And to Bakugou’s anger, he laughed, a small cackle that was not at all friendly or sane sounding. “No way. You’re too young to die like this. That’s a waste of potential.”

 

 

Without another word, Midoriya forcefully hauled Bakugou to his feet, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other closely at his side. Bakugou wanted to protest, but his feet slipped in the dirt. He spat out a mumbled curse, and then, he felt a stinging pain in the back of his throat. He tried to curse again, but all that came out was a gob of blood.

 

 

“Oooh, that’s not good,” Voice still too casual, Midoriya hauled him to the exit. “Internal bleeding. You must have fallen harder than I thought.”

 

“S-shut up -” Bakugou replied, palms crackling from anger and nerves. “I don’t need - your damn pity !”

 

 

 

With an almighty shove, Bakugou pushed Midoriya way, the look of shock on his face replaced in a split second with a cold fury as Bakugou fell back onto the ground.

 

 

 

“Kacchan, if you don’t get up this instant, you’re going to die.”

 

 

 

The words hit him harder then any punch.

 

 

 

“I mean it. A villain or that monster will show up and kill you. And I’m sure you don’t want to die,” Midoriya said, voice switching eerily back to carefree and slightly erratic. “I know I don’t want that. It’d be a pity.”

 

 

 

Bakugou laid in the dirt, looking straight up at this person, a face he didn’t even recognize anymore.

 

 

 

“The - the fuck is wrong with you?!” He growls.

 

 

“A lot of things.” Midoriya replied airly, resuming the uphill hike they were doing before, with a little less resistance on Bakugou’s end.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Did you come here to kill us?” Midoriya said, forcing himself to meet those red eyes. “The future generation of heroes?”

 

The man scoffed, a scratchy sound. Midoriya didn’t like it.

 

 

“We came here to let people know of us.” He hissed, fingertips brushing Midoriya’s arm just slightly, middle finger carefully lifted. “The league isn’t dead. We’re just getting started.”

 

“Young master -” The shadow man started his walk over. “If you’re going to kill him, now would be the time. Our mole just informed me that we’ve got about ten minutes before the heroes get here.”

 

“Shut up, old man, I’m getting to it!!” Turning back to Midoriya, ‘young master’s’ crazy grin turns into a frown. “While your bravado is admirable, we’ve got a job to do.” He reached out one hand, presumably to crumble him to dust just like Aizawa - he hadn’t even seen Aizawa, how’d he know he was - he was gonna die, die, DIE -




 

 

Splat.



 

 

 

Midoriya opened an eye, slowly, waiting for a death blow that never came.

 

 

Instead he heard a loud thump next to him. He turned to see -


 

 

 

 

 

Holy fucking shit.


 

 

 

 

 

There was the young master, head completely gone. Obliterated. Grey brain matter painted the floor, along with red, red, red everywhere, staining his pants. Something slimy and thick bumped Midoriya’s foot, and it took him a moment to look down and see that it was a piece of the man’s brain -


 

“...What?!” The shadow man hissed out, taking a cautionary step back. “You just - you just killed him!”

 

 

 

“I didn't I didn’t mean to!” Midoriya scrambled back, lungs heaving, eyes unable to move from the sight of the man’s dead body, I did that, I did that, I DID -

 

 

 

“NOMU, KILL HIM!!” And Midoriya looked up to see a huge hulking beast that was wrong on so many levels swoop down, talons outstretched -

 

 

 

And the thing’s arms blew off too.

 

 

 

The creature fell, rolling on the ground, letting out inhuman screeches of pain. Midoriya clenched his fists, watching this - this monster’s limb regrow, and have it stumble towards him, covered in it’s own blood, only for it’s head to get blown off again too, limbs regrowing as fast as Midoriya can destroy them -

 

 

 

He’s screaming.

 

 

 

“STAY AWAY!” He backed up, hands scuttling before he can even think to run, far away from that, from that thing that he was slowly and painfully killing - “GET AWAY FROM ME!”

 

 

 

And they stayed like that, locked in a bloody deadlock, the monster’s limbs regrowing, Midoriya screaming and cutting them off. Behind, the shadow man watches in awe and horror.

 

 

Midoriya couldn’t even see, he’s covered in this thing’s blood and intestines. He could only watch as the thing rolled around in the dirt, trying to regrow itself as fast as Midoriya can keep killing it.

 

 

But eventually, the monster reached its limit.

 

 

 

The thing’s corpse - what was left of it - pitifully flopped in the dirt, finally broken with a last almighty screech, little bits and pieces of itself strewn around the field. The dirt is drenched in blood, and so are the trees, the rocks - everything. Midoriya could smell it, in his nose, hair, eyes -




The shadow man had left, presumably retreated out of fear.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And Midoriya screamed .






 

 

 

 

 

All Might arrived, bursting through the door despite his time limit and pain. “NEVER FEAR, I AM -”

 

 

 

He stopped, almost deflating out of shock.

 

 

 

The center of the simulation room, a large field of dirt, was soaked in red, in blood. The trees, the leaves, the rocks, everything. He could make out the portals of the villains, all retreating.

 

 

 

 

Why were they -

 

 

 

Then he saw. In the center of all this, is one bloody, disheveled figure, hunched over on himself, shoulders shaking. From up on the stairs, All Might could hear the child’s screams of anguish, fear, and anger.

 

He quickly swooped down, running to the boy, ignoring the squish of the bloody dirt - and nothing else - under his feet, quickly assessing the damage.

 

 

 

He could see one of the monsters that the League had, it’s body parts strewn across the area. The head, or what was left of it, was perched on top of a tree, perfectly, impaled by a branch.

 

 

 

 

And the smell.


 

He then realized that it was Midoriya, the young boy who Nedzu wouldn’t stop talking about, curled up on himself, screams turning into sobs.

 

 

 

“Young Midoriya -” Weak hands pushed him away, All Might stumbling back despite the weak force.

 

 

 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” He screamed, knuckles a stark white. He was shaking, shaking, like a leaf.

 

 

 

“Hey -” All Might leaned down, to try and comfort the boy, do something, but the boy flailed and howled, sharp nails piercing flesh. He already had a few scratch marks on his arm, too small to be from that - creature.


 

A tap on his shoulder, the familiar signal for him to hold his breath. He does, and Midnight’s gas seeped over Midoriya, his struggles finally ceasing.

 

 

 

“T- thank you Midnight.” All Might said, when he can finally breathe again.

 

 

 

Midnight didn’t say anything, too busy taking in the destruction with awe.

 

 

 

But then, All Might realizes that she’s staring at something else.

 

 

 

A body.

 

 

 

 

 

All Might walked over slowly to investigate it, dread filling his stomach.

 

But it’s not one of his own. The body, however bloody and mangled it may be, isn’t one of them. He exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

 

“Who is that?” Midnight said, pushing her glasses up.

 

“I think it’s one of the villains.” All Might said, adjusting his grip so he could carry the boy in his arms. “Not sure who though.”

 

 

 

 

 

“I think I can answer that.” The two turned to see Cementoss, who had swooped down, holding up a shriveled, old, severed hand.

 

One that Midoriya certainly couldn’t have cut off. The cut was too clean.

 

 

 

 


“No…” All Might tried and failed to disguise the awe and disgust in his voice. “That was -”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Shigaraki.” Midnight confirmed. “That boy killed the heir to the League of Villains.”






Chapter Text

Midoriya slowly opened his eyes, warm sunlight filtering on to his face through the branches of a tree, a weeping willow, he realized, as his vision slowly returned. The branches had these small little lantern lights draped on them, the kind Midoriya had always wanted for his own room, but could never figure out how to position them.

 

Where was he?

 

Was he dead?


Midoriya stood, and looked around. He was in some sort of garden, with sleek, futuristic, sculptures and architecture. The grass was lush and green (a little too green) and wild flowers littered the ground, along with neat, ordered flowers someone planted on purpose. Behind him, he could hear the splashing of what sounded like a creek.

 

It was nice.


Turning, he could see on the other side of the garden, looking just as nice. But across the river, there was a small, english pavillion, white columns and shingled roofs, a small coffee table set in the center. Sitting in a chair, calmly drinking a beverage, was a familiar looking face.

 

Midoriya squinted, not believing what his eyes showed him.

 

Because if that was true, then that was himself, drinking a cup of tea, inside the pavillion.


The other - not true - Midoriya looked up from his drink.




He made a motion for him to come over. Midoriya was about to say that he couldn’t, there was no way across the river, when he looked down, and suddenly, there was a bridge right under his feet.


Midoriya gulped.


He crossed the bridge, the soothing churn of the creek and the chirping of birds sounding oddly sinister in his ears. He reached the other side, and sure enough, it was an identical copy of him, right down to the placement of his freckles.

 

“Holy shit.” Midoriya breathed.

 

“Rude,” The other him replied, not taking his eyes off of what looked like a small book he was reading. “Should have known you’d have no manners. Sit down.”

 

Midoriya sat.

 

The doppelganger took a sip of his drink, and peered over the rim at Midoriya with a critical eye. “I suppose you have a lot of questions.” He said.

 

“Understatement.” Midoriya replied, fidgeting with the table cloth. “I -”

 

The other him held up a hand to stop him from going off on a tangent. “You can ask me three things.” He said. “That’s it.”

 

“Three?” Midoriya turned, and almost had a heart attack. Leaning on one of the pillars or the pavillion, seemingly appeared out of nowhere, was another him, only this one had a slightly crazed look on his face, like someone who was loopy from either alcohol, or jet-lag.

 

“Three’s too many. At this rate, they’ll figure it out before we even get to the sport’s festival part.”

 

“The who-what?” The Midoriya drinking what appeared to be a shirley temple, set it down, and sighed.

 

“Number three, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer, it you wouldn't be here right now. You’re scaring them.”

 

“Scaring who?!” The other Midoriya - Number Three - ignored his clone, and sat took a seat, propping his feet up on the table. The other Midoriya sighed, and rubbed his temples.

 

“Number One, you want anything to drink?”

 

Midoriya blinked, and then realized that his clone was talking to him.

 

“Uh - water?”

 

Doppelganger nodded. Midoriya looked down at the table, to see that a drink of water had suddenly appeared in front of him, out of nowhere. No magic pop, or flash. It was simply not there, then it was. Midoriya scooted away from it like it was possessed. Number Three snorted.


“It’s not poisoned.” Doppelganger said. “Besides, you can’t die here.”

 

“I - where is here?” He mumbled out, finally.

 

Doppelganger set his drink down. “Nowhere.” He said. “Midoriya’s own space. It doesn’t exist to anyone but Midoriya.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Midoriya turned to Number Three for an answer, but he just shrugged. “Is that my first question?” Doppelganger nodded.

 

“...What should I call you?”

 

Doppelganger sighed. “I’m number five. That’s number three,” Number Three waved. “And you’re number one.”

 

“Uh -” He was tempted to ask about the number names, but he decided not to, since that’d be a waste of a last question.

 

Okay.

 

What do I really want to know?

 

Something that’s been bugging me for months - years. Something….

 

The answer hit him like a ton of bricks.

 

“What’s my quirk?”


Number Five’s mouth twitched, like the answer was funny. Behind him, Number Three snorted.


“We don’t have one.”


Midoriya’s heart plummeted down to his shoes.



“We - I - I don’t understand.”

 

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” Number Five sighed. “You are quirkless. You haven’t been gifted with this age’s evolution.”

 

“Then - how am I able to do all the things I did?!” Midoriya shouted, confusion and anger lacing his tone.

 

“That’s four questions. Too bad!” Number Three said, a crooked grin plastered on his face. Number Five nodded in agreement.

 

“But - I need to know what -” Number Five rolled his eyes in annoyance.

 

“If you wanted to know so bad, you shouldn’t have asked those other two questions.” He said, taking a sip of his drink.

 

“But - you only brought on that question because of my last one - that’s not fair!” Number Five ignored him, getting up and walking out of the pavillion.

 

“That’s the thing, Number One.”

 

A cold hand was brought down on his shoulder.

 

“We don’t play fair.”









Toshinori looked out over the rubble of the USJ, heart filled with uncertainty. He was tasked with supervising the cleanup crew, which didn’t require much work. All he really had to do was sit and watch.

 

The blood of the dead Nomu had been scrubbed out of the dirt and the trees, all traces of carnage gone. Toshinori thanked the heavens for the cleanup crew efficiency, but his stomach still churned thinking about the way his feet had made an awful squishing sound on the packed dirt.

 

What kind of power is that, to destroy that monster?


“Good question.” Toshinori’s head perked up at the sound of a familiar, reedy voice next to him.

 

There, sitting criss-cross in the sand, was none other than Midoriya.

 

“M-Midoriya?” Toshinori sputtered, ignoring the fact that Midoriya wouldn’t know him, since he wasn’t transformed. “I thought you were in the hospital!”

 

“I got better.” Midoriya replied, looking out over the USJ's rubble. Toshinori fidgeted nervously, unsure of what the hell was going on right now.

 

So they sat in silence.


“Reminds me of what happened with All For One.”




Toshinori’s heart plummeted down to his feet, the name sending a familial tremor down his spine.

 

“To be honest, I think you’ve been a big disappointment since then, All Might.”

 

He knows?

 

“You could’ve saved your master if you were quicker. There were so many outcomes where she’dve been okay. But you squandered your chance.”

 

He knows about Nana?

 

‘And now, here you are, on the brink of death everyday. You’re kind of pathetic.” A laugh, and a pause. “Heck, so is anyone using your power anyways.”

 

He dares to dishonor the other holders?!

“Especially Nana. She was stupid enough to run into a battle she couldn’t win. And now you’re all alone.” He slowly turned, glassy green eyes meeting narrowed shadowed ones, a hulking mass of power looming over him.

 

“So how does it feel to be alone -”



Squiiiiiiiish.





All Might moved of his own accord, blind rage for his master overtaking his senses. It took him a second to feel a wet sensation on his fists, and a familiar, metallic scent to register in his mind.

 

He stumbled back. Midoriya stared at him, glassy eyes clear for the first time in the conversation.

 

“All… Might…?” He warbled out, clutching the gaping, bleeding hole in his chest where his stomach once was.



And then, he hit the floor.










A few hours later, a homeless person placed down a blanket on the sands of Daughbough Beach, ignoring the stench of garbage and rust that he’d become used to.


Not realizing, that seven feet buried underneath him, a small child’s body, hastily hidden by a regretful hero, lay, still bleeding into the rocks and sand and dirt.




 

 

 

 

 

 

Still breathing.




Chapter Text

Midoriya slowly opened his eyes to stare at an unfamiliar ceiling, a plain faded white that caused his eyes to sting. The fluorescent lights in the room causing black spots in Midoriya’s vision. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see an IV, which seemed to be drip-feeding him what looked like saline.

 

Okay, no pain killers. That’s good, that means that I’m not injured that badly -



Then, the dam of memories broke, a flood of bloody events and phantom screams filling his mind. Midoriya shot up, gasping for breath, panic level shooting up from a one to an a hundred so fast that he could suddenly feel his heart straight from the sudden increase in pace.

 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

He could hear the monster, see it’s talons being blown around by him, somehow, he could see it. See what had happened. Feel the hole in his stomach that had been blasted open -


“Breathe, Midoriya. Breathe .”

 

 

He realized someone’s arms were around him, rubbing soothing circles in his back. Midoriya gasped and shuddered, like a fish out of water, but tried to match the pace of the person next to him.

 

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

 

Eventually, his breathing was back to normal, and he turned to look at the person next to him. Momo’s teary face looked back at him.

 

“Oh my god,” She gasped out, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “I’m so sorry - I thought -”

 

Midoriya hugged her back awkwardly, letting Momo cry herself out on his shoulder.

 

For someone who cried so much, Midoriya had no clue what to do when it was someone else crying.


Eventually, Momo untangled herself, and sniffed. “I’m so sorry,” She muttered, twisting her knuckles in shame. “This has to be really awkward. I’m just so glad you’re okay -”

 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking around what appeared to be a hospital room. “What - what happened?”

 

Momo shifted backwards, confusion plastered across her face. “Do you not… remember?” She asked.

 

“No, I do - kind of. Once that -” giantmonsterwhocouldneverdienotfromthisearth “- thing attacked me, it’s all a little blurry.”

 

“Oh,” Momo sighed in relief. “Well, um - All Might showed up, just as they all started retreating. I heard you scream - and I couldn’t see over all the trees, but I think that bird monster - I think All Might killed it.”

 

She doesn’t know? Relief and horror coursed through his veins. She doesn’t know what I did.

 

“But then they said something about a guy named Shigaraki. They said -” Momo’s voice cracked, and she peered down at her lap, face pale and drawn.

 

“They said you killed him.”


The relief that Midoriya had been feeling was washed away by an icy-cold guilt.

 

“Is that true?”




The room was silent for a few minutes.



“...Yes.”

 

Midoriya heard a stifled sob. He turned away, not able to meet Momo’s face.

 

But instead of horror, she hugs him again.

 

“I’m so sorry you - you had to do that.”



I didn’t though - that’s what gets me.


“...Thank you Momo.” He said, gently prying her arms off of him. “But - why are you here?”

 

Momo’s face flushed a bright red, and she looked away in embarrassment. “I - I was waiting for you to wake up.” She muttered, eyes deteritly not meeting his. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

“Oh.”

 

She waited just for me?

 

No one’s ever done that for me before.

 

“Thank you.” Momo looked back up at him, eyes still suspiciously watery.

 

“You don’t think that’s weird?”

 

Midoriya sighed, and shook his head. “I did that when Kacchan had his freak out during the practice fights. It’s not weird - at least to me.”

 

Momo still looked slightly mortified, so Midoriya quickly changed the subject. Eyes landing on a small green notebook sitting on one of the folding chairs in the corner, he quickly realized that it was Momo’s.

 

“Why the notebook?” He asked. Momo flinched a little bit.

 

“Oh - I - Uh… I write stories in there.” She muttered, sounding flustered.

 

“That’s cool.” Midoriya moved over so they were sitting next to each other. “What do you like to write about?”

 

Momo peered back at him with suspicious eyes. “You don’t think that’s a stupid hobby?” She muttered.

 

“No…? Why would I?”

 

“My parents do.” Momo sighed, placing her chin in her hands. “They think a lot of what I do is stupid.”

 

Oooh. This explains a lot.

 

“Was… that why you were so flustered when I asked you why you waited for me?” Momo nodded.

 

“I called them to tell them where I was. They said it was creepy and that you’d think so too.”

 

“That sucks. Your parents sound awful.”

 

“They’re really not,” Momo sighed. “And that’s what gets me. Most of the time they’re super nice, but then every now and then there are those little comments that are just - really hurtful. And because they’re so nice the rest of the time, I feel like I’m being whiney or something.”

 

Oh.

 

Well, this is… complicated.

 

“But -” Momo perked up, a forced look of cheerfulness plastered across her face, “We didn’t come here to talk about me. How are you doing?”

 

“My whole body feels like one giant bruise.” Midoriya admitted, stretching his sore limbs. “How long was I out?”

 

“About four hours.” Momo replied. “I’ve been here since about twelve.”

 

“Jesus -” Midoriya looked at the clock. It read: 4:43. “God, I’m so sorry for making you wait for so long.”

 

“It’s okay. I-” Momo was then interrupted by the doctor entering the room.

 

“Midoriya Izuku?” Midoriya nodded, Momo hastily standing up.

 

“I’ll see you later.” She said, rushing out, face red.


That girl has some self-confidence issues.


After he was cleared, Midoriya waited in the lobby for his mother. She was still at her shift, and he checked his texts from her.

 

12:56

 

Mom: I heard what happened. Are you okay?

 

Mom: Call me back once you get this.

 

1:32

 

Mom: Izuku?

 

Mom: I just got the hospital’s call. I’ll be there as soon as my shift is over.


Midoriya sighed. His mom tried to care, at least. But she was just… distant. She tended to prioritize work over him. Like he wasn’t even there.

 

You can’t cry here, Izuku, this is a hospital lobby. Everyone will look at you funny and the doctors will drag you back in for a psych evaluation.


“Hey.”

 

Midoriya perked up to see a familiar face standing, silhouetted in the doorway’s light.

 

Bakugou looked wary when he walked up to Midoriya.


“...We… We need to talk.”

 

Chapter Text

Gatsby’s was a cafe that many UA faculty frequented. It was close to the school and served good food.

 

It was also always busy, so you could talk about practically anything, and as long as you didn’t shout, no one would hear you.



Which was the ideal location to have a talk that Bakugou had been very much avoiding.



Deku’s usual fidgeting was absent, but the touch of discomfort in his eyes was still there. This was his Deku - the one he grew up with anyways.


Bakugou’s side aches where the fountain’s shrapnel had pierced him. He was lucky it wasn’t a lung, and Recovery Girl could fix it so easily. He’d have to use a crutch for a few days though. Oh well.



“I’ve only got about thirty minutes, Kacchan, before my mom picks me up.” He took a sip of his shirley temple, peering over the rim to look at the latter. “What did you want to talk about?”

 

Bakugou stared down at the plate in front of him, the takoyaki on it suddenly seeming unappetising and gross.



“...What do you remember about the USJ?” He said, scratching the bandages on his ribcage.

 

Deku blinked, a stupid expression of confusion on his face.

 

Along with - guilt?




The fuck did he have to be guilty for?


“Why do you ask?” Deku countered.


Bakugou sighed, knowing there was no way around his insane idea that he was trying to explain without not really explaining.



“...Because the bandage weasel said you were with the hand fucker the whole time.”





Deku took another sip of his drink.





“Which is funny, because at the same time you were down in the field, you were also hauling my ass up the hill to the exit.”




Deku choked on his drink, a small gurgling sound coming from his throat. He set his drink down, and frantically reached for a napkin, coughing the whole time while Bakugou watched with detached frustration at the bumbling idiot in front of him.

 

“Well?” He spat after Deku’s coughing fits had subsided.


“I - that’s not possible.” He mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

 

“Well it is, fucktard, so get over -”

 

“So you’re telling me that someone else is parading around, pretending to be me?!”





That… wasn’t exactly the theory Bakugou had in mind, but that sounded a whole lot more logical than their being -





“...Yeah.” Bakugou replied, ignoring Deku’s stare of what-the-actual-fuck he knew he’d be getting.


“There’s someone with a shapeshifter quirk who’s also me?!”

 

“Fucking chucker, I know.”



They both stared at each other for a second, neither party letting up.

 

Bakugou was the first to break eye contact, Deku’s never-blinking eyes unnerving him. “I just - I dunno, who’d want to go around being you?

 

“A crazy person, obviously.” Deku responded, calling a waiter over for another drink. “If it is another person, they’ve got to be either real bored or obsessed with me in order to do something like that.”

 

Then, Deku’s head shot up. If this was an anime, a light bulb would have gone off over his head.

 

“That explains why when I was sick, I was still at school, and kicked you in the face!”


Oh right. That would explain it.


Guess that means it wasn’t Deku who had kicked him after all.






Bakugou wasn’t sure how to feel about that.






“I guess so.” Bakugou fidgeted with the table cloth, something still not sitting right with him.

 

“The question is,” Deku started, already getting the look on his face when he was about to spiral off into his own brain. “Who is this mystery person?”


Bakugou shrugged, his desire for answers sort of sated. He didn’t feel satisfied, but he had a logical conclusion that wasn’t fucking insane now, so that was good.

 

Still. Why would someone with a shapeshifter quirk go around as Deku of all people? Deku had a weird quirk, was creepy, didn’t have many friends excepet for Titsmgee, and -


“You’ll help me right?”


Bakugou jerked out of his thoughts to see Deku staring at him, hopeful look on his face.


“What?”

 

“With the case, I mean. With the shapeshifter?”


Bakugou was silent for a few seconds.

 

On one hand, he’d get the answers he was looking for. He’d also get to find the person who had humiliated him in front of his whole class, and had also hijacked his phone.

 

But on the other hand, it was - well, Deku.

 

And Bakugou didn’t like being around Deku for too long. He had an uneasy presence around him.



“Nah.” Bakugou finally replied, leaning back in his seat. Deku looked appalled, sharp green eyes narrowing into angry slits.

 

“You’re the only one who’s seen other me!” Deku retorted. “I’m going to need your help.”

 

“Forget it.” Bakugou stood up, grabbed the crutch he was using, and hobbled to the cafe door. “I just wanted to know what happened. You can take all your creepy stalker bullshit, and stuff it in one of your stupid notebooks.”

 

“They’re not stupid.” Deku mumbled.

 

“Right.” Bakugou opened the door, but not before tossing Deku a roll of -



“That’s for the food.” Deku looked back up at him, surprised. “Look, I don’t like you, but you did just get out of the hospital, it’s the least I can do. I’m not that horrible.”

 

“Are you sure about that?” Deku deadpanned.

 

“Fuck off.” Bakugou slammed the cafe door behind him, relishing in the loud bang it made when it shut.










Momo’s phone rang, the small buzzing sound filling the limousine she was sitting in. Her chauffeur, Reigen, looked over in surprise.

 

“I think it’s for you.” He joked. Momo rolled her eyes, and pulled the phone out of her pocket.

 

The contact was Midoriya’s.



Momo tilted her head in confusion. Midoriya never really talked to her over the phone, or sent texts, except for funny cat pictures. A small part in the back of her brain wondered, as she pressed answer, if something was wrong.


“Hello?” She said.

 

“Momo?” Midoriya’s tinny voice replied.

 

“Yeah, it’s me.”


The sound of paper rustling. Like the turning of pages.


“Momo, I just found out something really weird.”

 

Momo frowned. He sounded more excited than freaked out, if anything. Odd.





“What is it?”





Chapter Text

 

“So… despite all that’s happened, we’re still holding the sports festival.”


A gasp rippled through the class, everyone looking around excitedly, with three notable exceptions.




Midoriya was too busy scrawling something in his notebook with a bit more intensity than normal, Aizawa noted. For someone who had just murdered the leader of the League of Villains, he seemed… surprisingly okay.

 

There was a high chance he was faking his cool facade, but that wasn’t Aizawa’s problem. He liked to think he was non-partial, but he… kind of wanted to stay as far away from Midoriya as he could.




Bakugou, on the completely other end, was the opposite of okay. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a while, and he was preoccupied with staring out the window blankly, eyes glazed over. He was, in Aizawa’s opinion, the student they should be more concerned about, despite Nedzu taking more interest in Midoriya than his blonde peer. He seemed to show signs of not only a raging inferiority complex, paired with an explosive temper, but that of which had died down a little since the battle exercise. And whatever had happened to him, it couldn't have been pleasant, considering he showed signs of trauma-induced amnesia. So it seemed like Bakugou was slowly unraveling by the seams. And that, Aizawa concluded, wasn’t good.



And the third student actually had nothing to do with Midoriya, for once. Todoroki Shouto, son of the number two hero, was sulking in the back, his facial expression one of equal parts disdain and fear. If anything, you’d think he’d have been dreading this with all his heart.

 

Of course he’s nervous you dolt , Aizawa thought to himself. He’s the son of the number two hero, there’s probably a lot of pressure on him to succeed.


Still. Something nagged at the back of his brain that something wasn’t right.







“That’s all I’ve got to say.” Aizawa concluded at the end of homeroom. “Run along, smalls.”


They do, just in time for Toshinori to walk into the classroom, notice something, and cough up a lungful of blood in shock.


“Mr. Toshinori!” Half of the kids ran back in to make sure he was alright. They barraged him with questions, him attempting to reassure them that it was part of his quirk, until someone handed him a pack of tissues.


“Mr. Toshinori?”


It was Midoriya, staring at him with a face of fear and genuine concern, and expression that Aizawa had never seen on the boy before. “Are you… okay?”






Aizawa had seen a lot of things.







He’d seen mountains of corpses, piled up inside of a necrophiliac cult’s hideout. He’d seen people, skin melted off from bombs, bits of glass impaled in their skulls, eyeballs hanging out. He’d seen giant waves of pure energy, heading straight for a city of innocents.






But never, in his whole life, had he seen such a look of pure terror on the Symbol of Peace’s face.





“...Mr. Toshinori?” The ‘hero studies teacher’, quickly regained control of his face, and excepted the pack of tissues, a nervous smile on his face.

 

“Thank you, young Midoriya.” He muttered, then speedwalked out of the room as fast as he could.



Midoriya, completely oblivious to the previous tense atmosphere, picked up his backpack, and carried on his merry way.












“What the hell was that?” Aizawa accosted Toshinori when they arrived back inside the teacher’s lounge.

 

“Nothing.” Toshinori’s back was still turned away, refusing to meet Aizawa’s eyes.

 

“Nothing? You vomited blood all over your shirt, and looked dead petrified when Midoriya gave you tissues-”


“I just wasn’t expecting to see him, alright?!” Aizawa narrowed his eyes at Toshinori’s harsh and slightly frantic tone. That was the tone of a liar. “I - after the USJ incident, I thought he was still in the hospital.”

 

“So did I, and I didn’t cough out half of my blood supply.” Aizawa glowered. “Recovery Girl is getting real tired of having to find you new blood donors everytime this happens.”


Toshinori didn’t respond.




“Fine, keep your secrets.” Aizawa turned for the door to head to the vending machine to get some more caprisun. “I dunno what you have against my student, but-”

 

“Don’t act like you’re not scared by him too.”


Aizawa turned, Toshinori still not looking at him.

 

“What did you say?” Aizawa hissed.

 

“Don’t try to hide it.” Toshinori shot back. “You are just as frightened of that boy as I was-”

 

“I’m not frightened by him, I’m unnerved.” Aizawa retorted. “And so what? He’s a kid, he can’t do anything.”


Well, that was the wrong thing to say.


“You may have not been awake at the USJ but I was. I didn’t kill that Nomu, Shouta. He did.”


Aizawa blanched. “And when I got to the USJ, the field was bathed in blood. Blood that he had spilled.” Toshinori stood up, and stalked over to Aizawa, his tall, lean frame towering over him. For once in his life, Aizawa actually felt intimidated by the man.

 

And he wasn’t even transformed.


“I’m not terrified for me. I’m terrified for him. Because with that power? Well, the whole criminal underground is going to be coming after him.”


Aizawa opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a small cough.




They both swiveled around to see Midoriya, standing in the doorway, looking more than a little miffed.




“M-Midoriya.” Aizawa was the first to straighten up, pulling himself out of the aggressive stance he was in. “Why are you here?”

 

“Mic asked me to get him some coffee.” Typical Mic, not getting it for himself before class. “They’re talking about conjugations right now, so I’m missing that.”


Midoriya hesitantly walked over to the coffee pitcher, and silently poured it into the paper cup. The room was quiet.


Too quiet.



How much of the conversation had he heard?



Finally, after what felt like an agonizingly long period, Midoriya finished pouring the coffee, and walked for the door.


Aizawa was about to go back to grading papers, as he had turned around to sit, when Midoriya finally said something.




“You know…” Midoriya said cooly. The two teachers looked up.









“It’s rude to talk about people behind their backs.”











Midoriya closed the door behind him with a quiet click.





So he had heard more than I thought.











“Spar with me.” Midoriya looked up, to see Momo, standing with her trademark metal staff, over him. “I’d like to get better with my offense before the festival.”



Midoriya nodded, mind still flooding through the conjugations that Mic had taught him. English wasn’t actually as confusing as everyone else made it out to be. Now math, on the other hand…




“Sure.” Midoriya hauled himself to his feet, and they both stepped out onto one of the training matts, ignoring the sounds of others sparring around them. There was a strange lack of explosions.



“So,” Momo launched forward, the first to attack. Midoriya dodged, pivoting on his heel for a kick to the face, which she caught. “I was thinking about what you told me last saturday.”

 

“Yeah?” Midoriya made a move to punch, which Momo swiftly dodged. “What about it?” He landed a good kick to the shin, as Momo was distracted by swinging her staff at his head.

 

“Well-” A well-placed hit to the face by Momo’s staff sent Midoriya reeling, and he stumbled back, pivoting so that he could recover. “I’ve been looking up some criminal shapeshifters, and there’s a few who I think might be yours.”

 

“Who’s that?” Midoriya lunged for her stomach, but Momo quickly somersaulted over his head, a move that Midoriya was not expecting, and pinned him down to the floor.


“I made a list if you want to read it.” She said smugly.


Midoriya sighed. He really was no good at physical combat.




After he had taken a quick water break, and had iced his face for the huge bruise Momo had given him, he noticed something peculiar.

 

Bakugou sat on the sidelines. Doing nothing but watching.

 

His knuckles were slightly bruised, which was a sign that he had been training, but the Bakugou Midoriya knew wouldn’t stop until his knuckles were broken and bleeding under these kinds of circumstances.



“You… okay?” Bakugou looked up at Midoriya, looking more tired than he’d ever seen him.

 

“I’m good. Fuck off.”

 

“You’re feeling pleasant today.” Midoriya remarked.

 

“I said fuck off, asshat!”



Midoriya did not. In fact, he sat down next to Bakugou, who scooted a couple of inches away in response.



“Soooo…” Midoriya looked over at his sulking friend (??) who didn’t look back at him. “Why exactly are you sitting on the sidelines?”

 

“I’m doing a you.” When Midoriya looked confused, Bakugou rolled his eyes. “I’m studying the enemies weaknesses. Like Icy-Hot over there?” He pointed to Todoroki, who was creating small daggers of ice, and throwing them at a dartboard. “He doesn’t use his left side for some reason.”

 

“Huh.” Midoriya didn't really noticed that.



“You know those hospital anesthetics?” Bakugou didnt respond, but he nodded, giving Midoriya the clear to plow on. “They gave me some super trippy dreams. Like - LSD sort of dreams. Did that happen to you?”

 

“Why are you asking?” Bakugou retorted. He didn’t actually sound too annoyed.

 

“I dunno… I just wanted a good conversation starter?” Bakugou rolled his eyes, and looked away.



“...I just don’t want things to be messed up between us forever.”


Bakugou didn’t look at him.



“I mean - you’ve gotten better since middle school but… it’s still-”



“I get it.” Surprised by the harshness in Bakugou’s voice, Midoriya looked up to see the former still stubbornly refusing to look at him. “I was an asshole. Thank you for reminding me something I think about almost everyday.”


Everyday?


“That’s… that’s a lot of time to be thinking about me.”


Bakugou didn’t respond. But there was a reddish tint to his ears, which means he had heard, at least.




“...I’m still going to beat you Midoriya.” He said finally.


Midoriya smiled sadly, knowing that he couldn’t do anything right now to fix the situation.



“I know.”

Chapter Text

“Your room is fucking boring.”



Bakugou slowly opened his eyes to see his ceiling. The ceiling of his room, faded plaster and small scorch marks from fifth grade still there. He sighed, taking in the familiarity.


Until someone poked him in the face and the peace was shattered.


Bakugou looked up, with rising dread, to see a smiling freckled face leer back at him.




“You awake?”



Bakugou blinked. Obviously, he was still dreaming, but this sort of lucid dreaming had never happened before. This was… new.


“...You’re not Midoriya.” Bakugou finally said, voice crackly from sleep.

 

“I’m not?” Midoriya-Not-Midoriya looked at his hands, and feet. “I didn’t notice.”

 

“You’re the imposter.” Bakugou replied, more to himself than anyone else. “The one that the real Midoriya mentioned at Gatsby’s.”

 

“Bold of you to assume there’s only one imposter.” The doppelganger snarked. Bakugou blinked, his still-hazy mind processing what the clone just told him.


More than one?

 

Okay - so it’s not a shapeshifter.




“Get the fuck out of my room.” Bakugou snapped, his temper finally fraying.

 

“Mmmmm-no.” The clone said. “I mean - I could - but it’s nice in here.”

 

“Get the fuck. Out of. My room!” Bakugou chucked a pillow at the Midoriya, who yelped in response. Ignoring the loud screech, Bakugou dove for him, palms smoking. The Midoriya dodged, and had the audacity to laugh.

 

“What’s so funny-” Bakugou was then greeted with a pillow to the face.


“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Bakugou yelled, only to see the other Midoriya doubled over in laughter.

 

And despite his mounting fury, his crankiness at being awakened in the middle of the night, at the sheer strangeness of this clone being in his room - Bakugou didn’t hit him back.

 

Because the other Midoriya - the clone - looked strangely… happy.


“What the fuck?” Bakugou said, more to his own swirling alien feelings than anything. “Who the fuck are you?”


Midoriya shrugged between giggles.

 

“Who are you?”








And Bakugou woke up to the same ceiling, now colored with light.


The room, unfortunately, was empty.








“You ready?” The entirety of 1-A sat inside the briefing room, inside the giant stadium. Midoriya could hardly think with the swirling butterflies performing a dance number inside of his stomach.

 

“No..” Momo sighed, and scooted her chair over so that they were facing.

 

“You’re going to do great.” Momo placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Just remember, even if you don’t perform up to your personal standard, there’s always next year.”




Right. There’s always next year.



“Midoriya Izuku?”



Midoriya turned to see a dual-haired teen, one who he recognized from the few times he glanced behind him in class.

 

“Todoroki?” He replied, hesitantly sticking out his hand for the other to shake it. “That’s your name, right?”


Todoroki didn’t shake it.


“I have no intention with being friends,” Todoroki coolily responded. “I came here to say that I’m going to beat you.”


The entire room was silent, everyone shocked by Todoroki’s open hostility.


Then, someone broke the silence.



“Seriously?” Bakugou stood up, and despite being shorter, stared Todoroki down. “My god, it’s like looking at me one year ago.”

 

Todoroki’s expression didn’t change, but a slight twitch in his jaw suggested annoyance.


“Listen, thermostat.” Bakugou walked over to where the two were standing, cutting between them. “I dunno what kind of shit you’re trying to pull. But anyone who declares that bull before you’ve even fought him one time?” Bakugou jabbed a thumb in Midoriya’s direction, causing him to flinch. “Is not going to win. Trust me, if you’re that confident in your own abilities, even when you won’t use it to its full ability-”

 

Todoroki opened his mouth to object, but Bakugou plowed on.

 

“Is an idiot, and a pompous sellout. And I’m speaking from experience.” Bakugou stalked back to his seat, but not before throwing a final report over his shoulder.

 

“You either put in one hundred percent like the rest of us or get lost. I don’t like slackers.”

 

Todoroki stood still for a minute, staring at the blonde. Finally, he broke eye contact, and walked out the door.




The room was silent again. Then, finally, Mineta of all people spoke up.


“Wow, what an asshole.

 


Everyone went back to chatting among themselves about what had just happened. Momo walked up next to Midoriya and Bakugou, crossing her arms.


“That wasn’t very nice.” She remarked. “Thanks for saying something Bakugou. No offense Midoriya, but you looked like you were about to faint.”

 

“I felt like it too.” Midoriya mumbled. Then, he looked back up at Bakugou, who was stubbornly refusing to meet his eyes.

 

“Thanks.” Bakugou grunted at Midoriya’s words.

 

“‘S nothing. Guy’s an twat, would have done that regardless.” The bell for them to come out rang, and Bakugou hurried off before Midoriya or Momo could say anything else.




“...I’m serious, I don’t think he hates you.”

 

“Go away!”







The stadium was crowded.

 

Too crowded.



Midoriya attempted to calm his nerves by taking a few deep breaths and reminding himself of what Momo told him earlier.



There’s always next year, there’s always next year, there’s always next year, there’s always next year if you mess up -



“Welcome, first years!” The familiar loud voice of Present Mic rang across the field over the loudspeakers, and Midoriya forgot any rational thought, limbs locking, defaulting to fight or flight response.


He looked over to Momo, who flashed him a thumbs up. Midoriya couldn’t really hear Mic’s speech over the static in his head, roaring loudly, like it did whenever he was in a high-stress situation.


But then, he managed to make out some words over the static.



“Word...first rank… best … Bakugou!”


And Midoriya’s heart instantly plummeted the minute he saw the blonde walk up to the podium.




The stadium was silent, waiting for Bakugou to say something.




And eventually, he did.


“Look, I don’t like to mince words here, so I’ll be quick.”


Bakugou cast a quick glance out into the sea of students, and Midoriya got the distinct impression he was looking for him.


“I got here by going at one hundred percent, by working really hard. And so has everyone else.”



Quiet.


“So if anyone fucks up today, it wasn’t from lack of effort. Least of all from me.”

 

Still silent.

 

“Everyone, give it your all. Because if you slack, you’ve got no reason to be here.” Bakugou walked down from the podium.



Quiet.


Then the audience started clapping, some confused, some intrigued.


But the students were mad.


Because that wasn’t Bakugou encouraging them.








That was a challenge.

Chapter Text



Welcome back to everything goes wrong, starring Midoriya.



Currently, he was in the middle of running through the obstacle course that was the first challenge. However, about ninety percent of the people were ahead of him, because they at least knew how to use their quirks. All he could do was accidently blow shit up. And that wasn’t very helpful in terms of running really fast.




So he thought. Because the only thing he had was his brain and a working pair of legs, and his legs were no match to stomach lasers or explosions.



How? How do I get this to work?





He slid under the ruined corpse of a robot, it’s metal shell destroyed most likely from another racer. Midoriya stopped to catch his breath, and took off again, only to trip on -









Bakugou wasn’t happy.

 

How the Zuko rip-off was beating him was a mystery. His quirk wasn’t even good for speed!

 

And yet, there he was. Staring at half-and-half’s back.



He had to think. His explosions may not be able to reach far enough, and he had to take into account Todoroki’s movement. What could he do?



Suddenly, Todoroki started to slow down, dust skidding up behind him. Bakugou grinned.



Now’s my chance!



He unfurled his palm to blast Todoroki to kingdom come -




Only someone jumped in front of his explosion before it could really get big enough to hit him.




“What the fuck?!”




The silhouette was carrying a piece of metal, a sheet large enough to lay on. Bakugou’s explosion sent the metal - and by extension, the person on it, flying.



“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Who the shit was stupid enough to try something like that?




Well, Midoriya’s resounding middle finger gave him the answer to that.








There was one small problem in Midoriya’s plan.

 

Bakugou’s explosion would carry him forward, sure, but low to the ground. Close, so anyone could hit him if they were fast enough.



Which gave way to the second part of his plan.




The land mines laid in the ground glinted in the sunlight, signaling Midoriya to lean forward, putting all his weight on the front of the metal sheet, causing it to touch one of the land mines-




His vision went white, pink, and then he was flying.



He could see below him, the shocked faces of Bakugou, Todoroki, and Iida, who, due to their distraction, had caught up to the frontrunners. Midoriya turned away, and focused on the tree leaves, that he could reach out and touch.



It was all so -



Beautiful up here.




Then, reality ensued.



Midoriya started to descend, and then his mind helpfully supplied him with the realization that he didn’t actually have a landing strategy.




Shit.



ShitshitshitshitFUCK!




And in a brilliant moment of blind panic, Midoriya, when close enough to the ground, jumped off the makeshift hoverboard, rolled, and chucked the metal sheet behind him, it hitting several land mines along the way.




Distract them!



Midoriya didnt wait to see if the land mines had actually hindered any of the people behind him. He just took off, running as fast as he could, making sure to plant a foot on a land mine every step of the way.



They’ve got a half second reaction time, so I should be okay, just as long as I DON’T STOP RUNNING-




His side ached. His head spun, and his breath was labored. But dammit, Midoriya was going to WIN.







And he did.








“And in first place, 1-A’s very own Izuku Midoriyaaa!!!”



Mic was yelling. The crowd was cheering. Midoriya could barely hear any of it, over his own labored pants.



I… won?





A small stand of confetti fell on to his nose, jerking him out of his stupor.



I won?



I won!!







And then he threw up.












“You feeling better?” Momo asked as Midnight announced the second game.

 

“Uragh.” Midoriya made a groaning noise, legs still shaking from the adrenaline of the first game. “I want to throw up again.”

 

“Out of nerves?” Momo asked tentatively. “Or is that a part of your quirk?”

 

“Nerves, I didn't even use my quirk Momo.” Someone shushed them, and Midoriya turned back to Midnight, and listened to what she was saying.



“And whoever’s got first place, has the million-point headband!”



Everyone turned towards him.




Oh shit.






“You want to be on a team?” Momo asked when Midnight let them go so they could team up.



“Sure.” Midoriya said weakly, his nerve-induced nausea even worse now. “Thanks.”




Then, he got the biggest surprise of all.



“Hey assholes.”

 

Bakugou trampled over to where they were standing, hands shoved in his pockets. “Uh - I’ve got no one else to team up with, so I’m with you guys.”



That wasn’t a question. It was a hard fact, and both accepted it with little resistance.





“Okay. An optimal team would be one of four, soo…”

 

Then, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Midoriya jumped about a foot in the air, and turned to see none other than Uraraka Ochako, nervously standing before them.

 

“If it’s alright with you guys… can I join? Iida ran off, and no one really wants to team up with me.”



Midoriya and Bakugou looked to Momo, who had somehow become the deciding factor in all this.



“Sure!” Uraraka breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks. I was worried no one would want me, my quirk isn’t super great for stuff like this.”

 

Bakugou rolled his eyes. Everyone ignored him.



“Actually, this is a pretty good combination of quirks for an event like this,” Midoriya went one. “This - this could work!”

 

“Well tell us instead of mumbling, idiot.” Bakugou said. Momo nodded.





“Here’s the game plan.”








Ten minutes, three scraped knees, a lot of explosions, vomit, and duct tape later, their team had gotten third place.





They had passed.






They were going to the tournament.

Chapter Text

some art I drew

 


 

 

 

 

“Midoriya?”

 

 

 

 

 

Midoriya turned to see -


 

 

“Ojiro.” They hadn’t really talked since school had started. Ojiro seemed like a pretty plain - faced nice guy, not that there's anything wrong with that. He just didn’t seem to have much of a defined personality, exemplified by the fact that he had suddenly dropped out of the tournament. “Do you need something?”


“Shinsou Hitoshi.” The name sparked recognition in Midoriya’s mind. That was the name of his opponent he’d be facing in ten minutes. He was a general education student, Midoriya remembered. Hopefully shouldn’t be too much trouble. As shown in the cavalry battle, he seemed to be riding on the coattails of those stronger than him -


 

“Midoriya?” Midoriya snapped up, realizing he had started to mutter again.

 

 

 

“Sorry, go on.”

 

 

 

Ojiro gave him the look that most of his teachers did back in middle school, the ‘why-the-fuck-are-you-here-you-creepy-bastard’ look, but plowed on. “Don’t say. ANYTHING. To him when you fight, got it?”

 

 

“Huh?” Midoriya tilted his head in confusion. “Why not?”

 

“I - I’m not exactly sure, but I think he’s got a hypnosis quirk. All I know is that it’s voice activated, and that’s why I blanked during the cavalry battle. He hypnotized me -”

 

“- To do whatever he wanted.” Ojiro nodded. “So fight him quietly. Got it - why are you telling me this?”

 

Ojiro rubbed the back of his head. “I - I know I’ve been kind of cold to you -”

 

“You really haven’t, we haven’t talked at all.”


“Just -” Ojiro sighed, rubbing his temples. “I just… wanted to help out a fellow classmate. Class one A sticks together, y’know?”

 

Midoriya was touched by the gesture. No one had really said something like that to him before, even if it did sound a little begrudging. “That… That’s very kind of you Ojiro.” Midoriya replied quietly. “Thank you. I’ll try to remember that.”

 

 

 

Ojiro nodded, just as the bell pinged and the loudspeaker crackled to life.

 

 


“Will Midoriya Izuku and Shinsou Hitoshi please report to their respective waiting rooms?”


Midoriya sighed. “Guess that’s me.” He turned to leave, but Ojiro shouted something after him.


 

 

“We’re rooting for you. Kick that shady fucker in the nose for me.”


Midoriya gave him the thumbs up, taking Ojiro’s kind words to heart.






 

 

 

Shinsou was in a bad mood.



Not only had he overheard the monkey - man shittalking him in the halls, but he was going up against the creepy kid that Shinsou had hoped and prayed would fail in the previous events.

 

Seriously. Why the hell is that cryptid bastard even here?

 

“I could say the same thing.” Shinsou flinched, turning to see Midoriya, leaning on the wall. Had Shinsou said all that out loud?


“A - aren’t you supposed to be in your waiting room?” Shinsou scowled. Midoriya shrugged.

 

“I like walking around before a fight. Helps me loosen my nerves.” Midoriya strolled up to Shinsou, but his stroll was calculatedly casual, eyes cold, tone flat.


See, this shit is why I didn’t want to fight him.


“Y’know, you’re being kind of rude. And here I thought that you would understand being branded as a villain for unfair reasons.” Midoriya strided right past Shinsou, but not before whispering something very quietly, so quiet that Shinsou could barely hear.


 

 

“Seems you’re just as bad as them.”






 

 

 

Ojiro was worried.

 

And guilty. And disappointed that his first sports festival was turning out to be such a shit fest. Among other things.

 

He hoped that Midoriya would remember what he told him. God, if anyone could beat that creep Shinsou, it would be another creep of the same caliber.


Please Midoriya. Please win so I know someone will listen to me-!


Present Mic announced the two fighters, just after Ojiro could watch Shibara wipe the floor with Kaminari. It was hilarious, and yet painful to watch.

 

And there they stood, the two contestants. Only then, the screens filming staticked out, so no one could get a close view. The audience muttered in annoyance and surprise.


“Yes folks, I’m afraid this is a part of Midoriya’s quirk!” The audience mumbled among themselves, theorizing about the quirk of the boy who had yet to use it in the festival. “He always does this. Not a single scrap of battle footage with him has ever successfully survived!”


Yeah, see how well that turned out with the battle exercises.


“And now… let’s begin!!”







Shinsou knew he had to strike true. He knew Midoriya knew his secret, so he had to find a way to provoke him. The right button to push.

 

 

Lucky for him, a lifetime of learning how to do this made Shinsou know just how to make people tick.


 

 

 

“You know, that monkey boy was real stupid for throwing away his chance at winning, dontcha think?” Midoriya didn’t flinch, continuing to stare at him with those wide, unblinking eyes.

 

 

 

Shit. Okay, gotta think fast -


 

 

“Suppose you think you’re real tough, huh? After what you said to me in the hall-”

 



“I didn’t say anything to you.”



 

Bingo.



Midoriya’s eyes went blank and grey, the familiar tingle of a successful catch shooting up Shinsou’s spine and pinged around in his brain. He could feel Midoriya’s mind, bending and willful.


 

“Now… walk out of bounds.”



 

 

Midoriya turned to walk. The crowd started yelling, wondering what the hell was going on. Shinsou could hear Mic’s screaming about his quirk, but he couldn’t really process any of it. He was too busy gloating over his victory, giving Midoriya exactly what he deserved -




 

 

 

 

 

 

The ice cold chill of a broken mind shot back down Shinsou’s spine. Shinsou flinched, realizing the connection had severed.


 

 

 

 

But I hadn’t let him go yet - how -?



 

 

Midoriya stood still. He was a few inches away from the out of bounds line.




 

 

 

And he turned.




 

 

 

 

Insane grin and rolling eyes looking back at Shinsou.



 

 

“Too bad for you~” Midoriya sang, long legs clearing the distance between the two.


 

 

 

Wait - he talked!


Shinsou activated his quirk, but only felt the connection for a brief second as the chill went down his spine again, Midoriya’s grin changing into an expression of pain and hurt.


“Why? Why are you doing this?”


 

Quirk.


 

 

His expression changed again, to a sad, scared boy, running towards his prey. He was crying. Shinsou was shouting something, in fear. His quirk went off. Midoriya’s expression changed again, to the familiar coldness he’d seen in the hall. Midoriya was twelve feet away. Ten. Five. Two.


 

 

 

 

And Midoriya grabbed Shinsou’s forearm.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“This is for Ojiro, you slimy bastard.”



 

 

 

 

 

And he hurled.





Shinsou could vaguely feel his arm dislocated from his socket from the force, but all he could reall register was the alien knot of dread fear pain anger hurtfeardreadangersaddnessabandonmentwhydoeseveryoneleaveshinsouhewishheknew




 

 

 

 

 

 

And he’s seeing the familiar cherry blossoms of his old school, brushing his nose as he falls. Hears the crowd’s voices change into his old classmates. Hears their jeers.



“Freak.”

 

“Creep.”

 

“Slimy bastard.”

 

“Villain.”

 

“Shitnerd.”

 

“Quirkless.”



The last one caught him by surprise, but he can’t register the insult, because he hit the ground with a sickening thud, and it’s all g o i n g      d a r k







 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jesus Christ.

 

Oooh. That - that looked painful. I -

 

You better not be crying, Number Two.

 

I just - he’s hurting so much -

 

Physically or mentally?

 

...Both.

 

Hey guys, did I miss anythi - ooh.

 

You think that was overkill?

 

I think I scared the shit out of him!

 

...Why are you happy about that.

 

Because the look on his face when I turned around was priceless!

 

Oh please. Number Three, may I remind you that I was the one who actually threw him?

 

Bleh.

 

What are we talking about?

 

This guy.

 

Ooooh. Did I miss that?

 

Yeah, you’re too busy being a bloody, melodramatic bastard.

 

I-

… What the fuck.

 

 

-Uh-

 

Oh no.

 

Oh shit.

 

How’d the purple guy get in!

 

Hide! Run the other way!

 

WHAT THE FUCKKK.

 

Uh - I’ll knock him out!

 

Wait, don’t-


 

CLONK











 

 

 

 

 

 

Shinsou slowly woke up to a ringing head and a vague memory of a garden pavilion and the taste of shirley temples.


 

 

 

 

He registered the pain in his arm, as the memories of the fight before flooded back into his mind.


 

 

 

“Shit.” Then, he looked up, to see -



 

 

“Monkey man?” Ojiro looked slightly mollified, as he chewed on a piece of hair nervously.

 

“Hi.”



“‘Fuck are you doin’ in here?” Shinsou mumbled, voice slurred from the painkillers.




“I just - wanted to say sorry.”




Shinsou’s eyebrows raised. “Did Aizawa tell you to do this?”

 

 

“No! I just -” Ojiro sighed, looking at his feet. “I was a real dick.”

 

 

“Oh, what made you realize that.” Ojiro glared at the snarky teen, but obliged.

 

“After you fought Midoriya, you were carried off the field - and you were delirious and crying.”


 

Ah. That would explain the peculiar dryness to his eyes.


 

 

“And you cried something about me - you sounded… hurt.” Ojiro rubbed the back of his head in shame. “I didn’t realize -”


 

“Forget it.” Ojiro looked up to see Shinsou rolling his eyes. “Wonderboy, as fun as it is to hear you grovel, your apology is accepted. Trust me, the two friends i actually have have all given me this same talk, I’ve heard this spheal all before.”

 

 

“Oh.” Ojiro pinked of a second, and then sat back down, tail folded over his lap. “Sorry.”

 

 

 

“You’re fine.”


 

 

The two of them sat in awkward silence for a few seconds, until Ojiro sat up.

 

“I noticed the other day you were wearing a Dead-City shirt - you like that band?”

 

Do I?”



 

 

 

 

 

 

They missed the rest of the sports festival talking.




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Surprisingly, neither of them really minded.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

Uraraka was much more intense then Bakugou expected.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her fighting strategy was wild, sloppy, and absolutely genius. She almost had the upper hand on him for a second.

 

(Not that he’d ever tell anyone of course.)

 

So after the fight he stopped by the bathroom, to wash some of the dust and rubble off his face, and under his nails, when he heard the sound of retching, followed by -

 

“Uhh -” Someone was throwing up in the stall behind him. And he knew exactly who.

 

“M - Midoriya?”


Silence on the other end.

 


“...What ever happened to Deku?”

 

The familiar line triggered a small haze of memories, ash and rubble in his mind, but he brushed it off, it fading into the shadows of his memories. “Why the fuck are you in here, puking like a little girl?”

“Ever...everyone pukes, Kacchan, that’s unfair to -” Another retching sound, a splash, and what sounded like a strangled sob.

 

Was he crying and puking at the same time? Bakugou scoffed to himself. How pathetic can you get?


“Why are you in here, Deku.” Bakugou scowled. He didn’t really have time for this, but for some reason, he didn’t really want to leave, something sick and buzzing bubbling up in his stomach. Gross, was he going to throw up too? But he vaguely recognized that this was an emotion-induced stomachache. He wasn’t sick.

 

So what was he feeling?

 

And more importantly, how could he get rid of it?

 


“It’s just -” Another retch. “S - shinsou, when we were fighting. I -” Something resembling words issued from the stall, too garbled by Deku’s emotions.

 

God, feelings were not worth it. If some other foreign feeling pops up in his brain one more time, Bakugou was going to snap.


 

“I just… I think I hurt him.” Deku mumbled.


“Of course you did, that - that’s what this whole festival is about. Kicking the shit out of other people.” Bakugou fired back.

 

“No, I - emotionally. He left the stadium crying. I don’t know what I did - but whatever it was, it was bad.” Another stifled sob, and Bakugou could see, under the stall door, Midoriya sinking lower onto his knees, arms wrapped around himself as protection from - feelings, he supposed.

 

 

 

“Kacchan, I’m scared.”

 

 

 

 

The nickname stopped his heart cold.

 

 

“My quirk - it’s not what I thought it was.” There’s the sound of shifting, like Midoriya was standing up. “I - I don’t know what it does, but I just seem to hurt everyone when I use it.”

 

“That’s bullshit-”

 

“It’s not! I don’t know what I did when we fought, but it was something horrible, because now you’re all quiet and traumatized-”

 


“IT WAS NEVER YOU, OKAY?!” Bakugou's smoking fist slammed into the stall door, and he could vaguely hear Midoriya squeak behind it. “It -”

 

 

 

Fuck feelings.

 

 

 

 

They were the WORST. Always popping up when Bakugou didn’t need them.

 

“It was never you.” Bakugou said, quieter than he’s ever addressed Midoriya in - in years. “Stop pretending that you were the one who fucked everthing up, it wasn’t you. It was -”

 

 

He just couldn’t get the words out, the admission of weakness causing him to scowl, nails pitting into palms from clenched fists.

 

 

 

 

“-It was me.”



 

 

The bathroom was silent.

 

 

 

 

“I fucked everything up. I was -”


And for a second, he remembered the twisted monster that Midoriya had shown him in the battle exercise, all swirl, body making no sense in his mind.

 

Was that how he looked like to Midoriya?

 

A twisted monster, intent on death and failure?

 

Made of smoke, pain, and pride?


“...I fucked it up.” Bakugou mumbled, head thunking against the stall door in defeat, memory fading. Unable to get the words he wanted to say out, I’m sorry, you were right, you’re so much better than me.









“You just realized this now?”




 

 

 

Deku’s jaded, cynical tone jerked Bakugou out of his funk.




“Seriously? You were kind of an ass, but like - were you always this dense?” The last part came out sad and watery sounding, full of despair.

 

And he would be lying if that didn’t break his heart a little bit.

 

“I’m sorry-” Deku mumbled. “That - that was rude.”

 

“Don’t.” Bakugou replied. “Don’t be sorry. You apologize way too much, that’s why everyone walks all over you. That’s why I-”

 

 

 

Well, he didn’t really need to finish that sentence.



“You should come out. You’re going to fight Todoroki in a few minutes.”

 

He heard a small hum of approval, and the sound of standing up. Bakugou turned to leave, not wanting to make this more awkward than it already was by seeing Midoriya all sad and shit -

 

 

 

 

“Kacchan?”

 

 

 

He stopped, hand resting on the door frame.




 

 

“...Are you scared of me?”


 

 

 

A thousand answers raced through Bakugou’s mind, fury, sadness, and terror all coursing through him at once.

 

But, his mouth opened of its own accord.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“...Dead terrified .”












 

 

 

 

Todoroki’s day had been sort of a shit-storm, to say the least.

 

 

Not only had he wiped the floor with his last opponent, leaving him thourghly unsatisfied, but his father, that blond kid, and the small green haired boy who looked straight out of a creepypasta (he didn’t like to remember that phase in his life, but it was an apt comparison) had all antagonized him in some way, shape, or form.

 

And now he was facing said green-haired kid who looked straight out of a creepypasta.

 

 

 

Fucking. Fantastic.

 

 

 

He didn’t hear Present Mic announcing their fight, or the crowd jeering and yelling. All he could hear was a rushing static in his brain.

 

 


And all he could see were those green eyes, piercing straight into him.


 

 

“BEGIN!!”

 

 

 

 

Todoroki made his first move, ice spreading out from under his feet-














 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then suddenly, he wasn’t in the arena anymore.



Chapter Text

 

“What?”




Todoroki was standing in a familiar place.



 

 

It was a japanese styled garden, reminiscent of his front yard at his - his father's house. To the corner, was a small little room, japanese paneling and doors. The whole thing looked like something that his mother would have designed.



 

 

 

“Where am I?” He said to no one in particular.






“Your space.”




 

 

 

Todoroki turned to see-



 

 

 

 

“Midoriya?”



Midoriya smiled sadly at him, and Todoroki then noticed his appearance. He was wearing a middle school gaurken, sleeves slightly singed and torn.



 

But that wasn’t the worst thing.



 

No, what was the worst was his face. His bangs covered his eyes, but underneath, he could see blood, dripping out from under his hair. Midoriya’s lip was swollen, faced bruised and puff, and when he smiled, he could see blood on his lips.



It was…




 

 

“What… what happened to you?” Did he do this? His ice shouldn’t have bruised him up that badly - “What’s happening - where AM I?”



 

Midoriya scratched the back of his head. “We’re here.” He stated simply.

 

 

“That doesn’t answer any of my questions.”

 

“Well, we’re not in the arena, that’s for sure.”

 

Todoroki rubbed his temples in frustration. “Can you stop being cryptic for one second?” He hissed. “I’m genuinely confused.”



 

Midoriya looked thoughtful, puffy face twisted into a thoughtful look.

 

 

“I’m just trying to figure out how much I CAN tell you.”



Todoroki blinked.

 

 

 

“Why can’t you?”

 

“Oh, I could. But if you value your sanity over knowledge, you’ll drop it.”

 



Ah.



 

“But I -  I guess to put it into your terms, we’re kind of inside a manifestation of you.”

 

 

“Like a mind palace?”

 

“I… I don’t know what that is, but I’m just gonna assume yes.”

 

 

“Okay...” That would explain the familiar decor. “Do all people’s spaces look like their backyards?”

 

 

“No,” Midoriya laughed. “Most of the time they look like the place they’re more comfortable in, or like. So usually it’s their bedroom.”

 

 



Todoroki was beyond confused, but he brushed aside that question, and sat down.

 



“How did I get here - is that part of your quirk?”

 

Midoriya gave him a quizzical look, like there was a joke that Todoroki wasn’t let in on. “I guess so. I mean, you obviously came here because you’re upset.”



“Upset?”



“I can’t just jump into someone’s head at will, Todoroki.” Midoriya replied quietly. “Usually they’re struggling with something.”

 

“So you’re an empath of sorts.” Todoroki stated. “Wait, but that doesn’t explain your offensive abilities - do you have a grab bag quirk?”

 

 

 

“We’re not here to talk about me,” Midoriya interrupted. “I mean, we’re here, so you might as well talk about what’s bothering you.”



Todoroki scoffed. “I’m not just going to spill my deepest secrets to a weirdo I don’t even know.”

 

“Eh. Most likely the memories of this won’t stick. That rarely ever happens unless -” Midoriya clamped his mouth shut, and a trickle of blood dripped down his face and fell onto his pants.



“Can’t say?” Midoriya shook his head. “Okay then.”



Midoriya sat down next to Todoroki, whose head was in his hands.




“...You want to… talk about it?”





Todoroki sighed, realizing that there was no way around the conversation. Why Midoriya was so concerned, he had no idea, but still - no one had ever been this nice to him in a long time.



So he did.





He started from the beginning, with his father seeking out someone with a quirk almost as powerful as his. Todoroki Rei, and aspiring architect…














When he was done, he looked up, to see a new gash on Midoriya’s face.

 

“Are - are you okay?” Todoroki fumbled for a cloth, something so that Midoriya could wipe the blood off his face, “I - how-”



Midoriya held up a hand to stop Todoroki.



“That… that must have been awful.”

 

Todoroki stopped.

 

“I’m sorry, it’s just.” There was a wet sniffle, and it took Todoroki a second to realize that tears, along with blood, were streaming down Midoriya’s face. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

 

“Hey - uh.” Todoroki was no good with feelings, and certainly not at comforting others. “It’s me, you don’t even know me - why are you so upset?”

 

“...I get upset a lot.” Midoriya shrugged. “I guess I’m a bit of a bleeding heart. Maybe that’s why I look like this.”




It took Todoroki a second to register the meaning behind that sentence.



“You…” Todoroki squinted in disbelief. “Do you get more injured every time you’re upset?”



Midoriya paled. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that -” He stood. “I - heck, do you feel okay?”



Todoroki raised an eyebrow. “I go to school with a bird furry. I’ve seen some weird things.”

 

“Okay, that’s good,” Midoriya sat back down, exhaling a breath. “People’s capacity to handle weirdness is much better these days.”




They sat in silence.






“...I still don’t get it.”

 

Todoroki looked at him. “Pardon?”



“Why you don’t use your left.” He gestured to the left side of his face.

 

“That’s my father’s side.” Todoroki growled. “I don’t want to use HIS power.”

 

“But it’s not his, it’s yours,”





He froze.






“I mean, logically, he can’t control you through said power. You’re free to do whatever you want with it. Help people, rob a bank, even kill your own father if you wanted too.”



His heart skipped at the last one. “Midoriya - that’s kind of dark.” He mumbled.

 

“But I’m not wrong, am I?”






He wasn’t.




Suddenly, the door to the small room in the corner slid open on it’s own accord. Todoroki gasped, but Midoriya sighed.



“Well, glad we resolved that, at least.” When Todoroki looked at him, Midoriya smiled. “You’re free from that train of thought, so no you’re not stuck here anymore.”



Todoroki slowly stood up, and walked over to the door.




“...When I leave… I’m going to lose this fight, aren’t I.”



Midoriya smiled sadly at him. “You were in the middle of an ineffective attack. I was about to push you out.”




That also made sense.



Except not really.





“Well, if I go out, at least I’ll go out with some style.”



Midoriya smiled at him again, and instead of it being sad, it was fierce.



“I’m sure you will.”



And that was the last thing Todoroki remembered before a blur of ice, fire, and air.




Before hitting the ground. And the last thing him seeing is Midoriya, standing triumphant in the middle of the ring.





And Todoroki?


 

Well, Midoriya definitely deserves the win, in his humble opinion.

Chapter Text

Bakugou had been dreading this all day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He had prayed to whatever gods were out there for Midoriya to fail, to get out.

 

 

 

 

 

But no matter what he wanted, Midoriya just kept on climbing.

 

 

 

Somehow, in a matter of seconds, he had managed to beat icy-hot (how on earth he had managed that, he had no idea,) and while his other fights weren’t nearly as quick, Midoriya managed to take down engine and mother earth.


Which left the last opponent for Midoriya to face.


Me.




Bakugou had pulled off two (sort of) easy wins against bird-brain and Momo. Momo had actually been a particularly difficult opponent, as she knew his fighting style pretty well from their sparring sessions, but he had managed to knock her out of the ring by a well-placed explosion to her shield.


And now -


“Our last two opponents!” The crowd was cheering, but Nakugou wasn’t focusing on that. He tuned into Mic’s speech, trying to ground himself from his rushing nerves and adrenaline. “Both from 1-A, we’ve got our frontrunner, Izuuuku Midoriyaaa!!” The crowd went wild, and Midoriya held up a shy hand. “And on the other hand, we’ve got the berserker himself, Katsuuuki Bakugouuu!!”

 

The chanting got louder. Who they were chanting for, he didn’t know, but it sounded less and less like cheering and more like the chanting of some sort of possessed cult.

 

“Deku.” Bakugou hissed. “Get ready to lose.”

 

Midoriya shrugged. “I thought I was going by Midoriya now?”



Bakugou rolled his eyes.



“BEGIN!!”


The two boys charged at each other. Bakugou swung first, with his left instead of his right, the sting of a roundhouse kick from a long time ago still fresh in his mind. Midoriya blocked the punch, and swiftly kicked Bakugou’s feet out from under him, but Bakugou retaliated with launching himself into the air with his explosions. Midoriya then grabbed his foot and before Bakugou knew what was happening, he had been flung into the dirt, Midoriya holding him down in the chicken-wing hold. Anymore pressure and his arm would snap.

 

The fighting style should have given it away, much less sneaky than normal. But what really set off Bakugou’s alarms was the familiar, crooked grin and the way he was being held down. Midoriya wouldn’t hesitate. He’d just fling him out of the ring.

 

“You - you’re not Midoriya-” Bakugou hissed. The other Midoriya leered down at him, Bakugou feeling his curls brush his neck.

 

“I’m not? Wow, could have fooled me.” Then, his expression turned from playful, to malice. “Forfeit, or I’ll break your arm.”

 

“Fuck off.” Bakugou spat. Midoriya - not - Midoriya sighed, and pressed.

 

The pain was instantaneous. Bakugou cried out in pain, but noticed the lessening of pressure on his arm, a sigh Midoriya - not - Midoriya thought he was done.

 

Bitch, you’ve got a big storm coming.

 

Quickly, ignoring the flaring pain in his right arm, he kicked Midoriya - not - Midoriya’s feet out from under him, and rolled up, brushing the dirt off his arm. Midoriya - not - Midoriya looked rather surprised, but then laughed, a screechy sound.

 

“Classic Kacchan, not even bothered by a broken arm!” He wheezed out. Bakugou scowled. Truth was, his arm was killing him, but the adrenaline kept the brunt of the pain at bay. He could vaguely hear Mic screaming about how he was still going, and how the crowd was yelling again.

 

It was too much.


Bakugou ran, full force, at Midoriya - not - Midoriya again. Midoriya made a move to dodge, but then, Bakugou grabbed his forearm, and for a split second, time stood still.

 

After all, all that sitting and watching during designated sparring time wasn’t for nothing.

 

He had figured out Midoriya’s fighting style.



And now he knew how to counter it.


Copying Midoriya’s move during the match with the Aizawa clone, he threw Midoriya by his forearm as far as he could. As Midoriya - not - Midoriya spun through the air, he could hear the sound of a faint laugh, far away and triumphant.



Then, Midoriya hit the ground.







Outside the ring.







The crowd was silent, finally.






Then, Mic broke the silence. “MIDORIYA IS OUT OF THE RING! THE WINNER OF THIS YEAR'S SPORTS FESTIVAL IS…”



Bakugou dashed out of the ring, to check and see if Midoriya was okay.


And the smaller boy sat up, large emerald eyes clear with lucidity.




The old Midoriya was back.


“BAKUGOU KATSUKI!!!”

 

The crowd went insane, but Bakugou didn’t really care. “Are you okay?!” Bakugou yelled.

 

“What?!” Midoriya yelled back, as the officials and Recovery Girl advanced on the pair.

 

“I SAID ARE YOU OKAY?!” Bakugou shouted.

 

“OH - YEAH, I’M OKAY - GOOD JOB BAKUGOU!” Bakugou sighed.



Midoriya was back to normal, and he seemed to remember the fight.




So the question remained:


Who did he just fight?






The awards ceremony was a little underwhelming.

 

Bakugou excepted his gold medal quietly, right arm in a sling and throbbing. Midoriya was crying the whole time, and All Might looked slightly uncomfortable as he offered him the second place medal.

 

And the bird boy didn’t say anything. However, the redness in his eyes betrayed happiness.




After that was said and done, Momo ran up to the pair. “You guys were amazing!” She exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you -” She went in for a hug, which Midoriya excepted, but Bakugou ducked out of. “Baku, don’t think you can escape -”

 

“Fuck you, I’ll hug people when I want - which is to say never!” He shouted at them. Momo laughed.

 

“Anyways, I was wondering if you guys wanted to go get ramen - my parents aren’t going to be here for a while, so you know - to celebrate!”

 

“Why wouldn’t your parents be here?” Midoriya asked. Momo laughed nervously.

 

“Oh well - My Dad’s on a business trip and my mom was working, so -” Bakugou growled at that, and she flinched. “But it’s fine though! It’s okay, they’ll see it on TV!”

 

“Still, they should have come.” Midoriya mumbled. “That’s not very encouraging.”

 

Momo sighed. “Well, we’re not here to talk about my parental issues, we’re here to celebrate! So -”

 

“Katsuki!!” Bakugou was suddenly tackle hugged on both sides by his parents, his dad looking like he was crying. He tried to wiggle out, but his mom pulled him in for a noogie. “You scrub, I’m so proud of you-” His mother quickly let him go to notice Momo and Midoriya. “Hello Izuku, it’s been awhile.” She gave Bakugou a pointed look. He ignored her, of course.

 

“Hi Mrs. Bakugou.” He mumbled, clearly a little flustered. His mom smiled, then turned to Momo. “Who’s this?”

 

“I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, ma’am, but you can call me Momo.”

 

“Oh, none of that ma’am nonsense, I’m not that old yet.”

 

Momo quickly proposed the idea of going out to eat, which his parents happily accepted.

 

Bakugou looked over to see Midoriya looking at his phone, a sad frown on his face. “Hey nerd, what’s-”

 

It was a text from his mom.

 

 

 

5:27

 

Mom: Izuku, I need to go home, there’s been an emergency case in the hospital. Someone was injured from their own bombs. I’ll see you later.




 

 

“She didn’t even say I’m proud of you.” Midoriya mumbled. “I just thought she’d at least be here for this.”

 

 

 

Bakugou glared the the phone, and by extension, his aunt. “Your mom’s a deadbeat. Forget about her.” He said. “Let’s just go shove noodles down our various orifices instead.”

 

 

 

“Stay classy Bakugou.” Momo mumbled. Both Midoriya and his parents laughed.

 

 

 

 

 

So they got in the car to leave, but not before his mother leaned over and asked which one of the boys was the lucky one who was dating Momo.


 

 

 

 

That didn’t go over well.

 

Chapter Text

Perhaps I acted too quickly.

 

Maybe it wasn’t a smart idea, antagonizing a murderer.

 

But can you blame me? I just wanted to see him suffer after all he did.

 

But maybe it’s just me.






 

 

 

Cold water flowed around his feet, blindfold tight and cutting into his nose. Behind him, he can feel the dopplegangers arms around his shoulders, guiding him.

 

“You’re tense.” Doppelganger says.

 

He is. Why is he tense?

 

Where is he again?

 

It’s dark and cold and he feels disgust.






 

 

“I do wish you’d love me.”

 

“Fuck off, nothing you can say to me will change my mind.”

 

“Pity. I thought that walking corpse in that bath had convinced you.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“I know plenty.”


 

 

 

 

They’re out of the water.

 

Doppelganger's arms haven’t left his side yet, despite the fact that he can orientate himself now that they were on solid land again.

 

He’s overhearing a conversation. He doesn’t know who’s talking. But it’s familiar, a deep, angry, voice, full of fire.

 

“Can you hear it?” Doppelganger says. “I was afraid of that. Don’t listen for too long, you’ll get sick.”

 

Why…?

 

 

“Why am I here?” He says finally. Doppelganger stops behind him, and so does he, bare torso exposed to the wind of - well, wherever they were.

 

“Do you not remember?” A laugh. “Maybe we’ve gone a bit too far down. We’re on what, layer… thirty now? Far too deep for a mortal.”

 

He grunts in displeasure. He wants to keep exploring, and Doppleganger laughs again at that, a screachy, unpleasant sound. “If we go any further down, you’ll catch waunderlust.” Hands are back again, sliding up to his shoulders. “And then I’d never see you again - and that’d be a damn pity.”




 

 

 

 

“I hate you!”

 

“It doesn’t matter anyways, you’re stuck with me. And until I find your results satisfactory, I’ll have nothing to do with you.”

 

“I HATE YOU!!”



 

 

 

 

 

A small part of his brain is screaming at him to wake, to snap out of it, the strange feeling of not knowing where he ended and the water began.

 

“...Please-” He warbles out, fingers grasping for something, anything, to hold on to.




And the blindfold is slowly pulled off, slithering into the lake.









And he looks at Doppelganger's crooked, freckled face, smiling behind him, helping him wade through the ocean of dead butterfly carcasses -
























 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then Bakugou woke up.
























Chapter Text

The after sports festival high spirit in the air was pretty palpable. Everywhere Midoriya looked, there were cheery faces and smiles. Even from those who did badly.

 


Well, that’s to be expected. The whole world did just get to see them strut their stuff, so -

 

Midoriya rounded a corner, just in time to run smack into Momo, who appeared to be dashing down the hall at top speed.

 

“AUGH - Oh hi Midoriya, I’m trying to find Mina - see you in class!” Momo bounced excitedly on her toes, and sprinted off, tucking her phone between her ear and shoulder.

 

He sighed. Momo was probably talking to Mina over the phone - another prank?

 

Whatever the case was, it wouldn’t ruin his good mood.




When Midoriya got to class, there were two things he immediately noticed.

 

Kaminari was being berated by Mineta, for the cheerleader outfit scheme he pulled (Which could’ve gone a lot worse, and hey, the girls were having a good time. But god, Mineta held himself on such a high pedestal, he reminded him of people on r/nice guys). The next thing he saw was Bakugou, slumped over on his desk, asleep. Todoroki sat behind him, freezing Bakugou’s hair spikes quietly, an uncharaistic thing for Todoroki to do.

 

Surprisingly, when Midoriya asked for Todoroki to get out of his seat, he obliged. And also offered him a good morning.

 

“What’s the good mood?” Midoriya asked.

 

“Nothing. Just - y’know. Sports festival and all that.” Todoroki walked over to sit in his seat, but not before throwing a “Thank you, by the way,” over his shoulder.

 

“What for?” Midoriya laughed, confused. “If anything, you should be thanking me, I’m sparing you from Kacchan’s wrath.”

 

“I mean - for our match last friday.”

 

Oh yeah. That.

 

Midoriya wasn’t quite sure how he had won, but what he did know is that Todoroki blasted himself out of the ring with his own fire. Maybe that was why he kept it under control? But whatever the case, Todoroki seemed more comfortable with his fire, so that was good. Midoriya was glad he could actually help people instead of just blowing shit up and spooking his friends. “No problem.” He said, sitting down, just as Aizawa, now freed from the bandages that he was bound up in after the USJ attack.

 

“Okay smalls, listen up.” Mina perked up from her notebook, where she was doodling a small anime cat. “We - where’s Miss Yayazoru?”

 

Just as he said that, Momo burst into the room, phone in one hand, writing notebook in the other. “Sorry I’m late!” She exclaimed, giving a deep bow of apology to Aizawa. “I had to take a call.”

 

“Not interested in your excuses, go take a seat.” Momo, relieved that she was off the hook, gratefully sat down.

 

“Now then,” Aizawa turned the projector on, displaying a chart presumably of their -

 

“Internship offers?” Kaminari exclaimed. “That’s - next week?!”

 

“When’d you think it was, christmas?” The whole class snickered, and Kaminari sighed.

 

“No, I-” But Aizawa droned over him. “Okay, we also need to pick hero names.”


Oooooh shoot.

 

Midoriya had not thought that far.





After a few people had gone up with some good (and not-so-good, looking at you Aoyama) names, Midoriya finally worked up the nerve to poke the back of Bakugou’s now-wet-from-melted-ice head, to ask him for some advice.

 

“The fuck do you - oh shit, we’re picking hero names? Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

 

“You looked awful - you still do, by the way.”

 

Bakugou gave him the finger, just in time for Iida to walked up and pick his own name as his hero name. Classy.


Think, Midoriya, think! Something that has to do with your quirk - well, I dunno what that does, so that’s out of the picture -  


Bakugou was called up. He sighed, and stood up, board slung under his arm.

 

“Minefield.” he announced to the class. Midnight, who was picking their names, applauded.

 

“You should’ve picked Sparky Boom-Boom Man!” Mineta cried out.

 

“DO YOU WANT TO DIE?!” Bakugou yelled back, as the whole class burst into giggles.




Momo picked Creati. Uraraka picked Uravity. Todoroki picked Shouto (what was with picking your actual name?) and one by one, people’s names were picked, and so were Midoriya’s chances of actually coming up with something.






“Midoriya?” Midoriya sighed. His time was up, and he slogged to the front of the class like a person walking to the gallows.

 

“...I couldn’t think of one.” He mumbled.

 

The class was silent.

 

“What about Green Boy?”

 

Midoriya perked up at Kaminari’s remark. “How about Shadow?” Kirishima shouted out above the blonde.

 

“Sounds like the hedgehog, what about Cryptid?” Tsuyu remarked.

 

“I think that’s copyrighted - ooh, what about Mind Game?”

 

Soon, the whole class was shouting out potential hero names, so much so that Midoriya could barely hear any of them.

 

“Stalker!”

 

“Michael Myers!”

 

“Vector!”

 

“That guy from the minions?! No, how about Cat Eyes?”

 

“How about Mourning Cloak?”

 

“Oh, Sixer! Like from Gravity-”

 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” The class shut up. “Who said Mourning Cloak?”

 

“I did.” Ojiro raised his hand timidly. “You know - like the butterfly?”

 

“I like that. I’m going to use that one, is that okay?”

 

Ojiro nodded, but Midnight frowned.

 

“That’s so gloomy sounding - how about Night Cloak?”

 

“That ruins the mystique.” Tokoyami said. The whole class started yelling as Midnight yelled back, until -


“Just get rid of the U in Mourning.” Momo said.

 

Everyone turned to look at her.

 

“That way, it sounds the same, but the word morning will have much more pleasant connotations.” She carried on.


No one said anything. Then, Midnight cleared her throat.

 

“Well then, Morning Cloak it is!”

 

Midoriya walked back to his seat, feeling an immense relief course through his entire body. He mouthed a thank you to Ojiro and Momo, and they returned it as well.














“Seriously, why didn’t anyone wake me up?” Bakugou groaned, head slumping on to the lunch table. Midoriya gave him a sympathetic pat, but Bakugou swatted his hand away. “I panicked - I don’t even like the name Minefield.”

 

“Your loss.” Momo said. Midoriya stared at Bakugou for a second.

 

His normally fair skin was pale, and his face, which normally was relatively clear, had lines of worry and stress etched into them, ones you could probably run your hands over. The dark circles were a given, but god, they were so dark they looked almost like bruises.

 

“Bad sleep?” Midoriya asked. Bakugou stiffened.

 

“Yeah - I just had some weird-ass dreams, that’s all.”

 

“What happened?” Momo butted in, eyes filled with curiosity.

“Why the fuck do you want to know, titsmgee?” Momo let out an annoyed huff.

 

“You know, I think that dreams can say a lot a person. And plus - y’know, the dreams are usually pretty crazy. You should read the blog One Time I Dreamt, that’s got some weird stuff on it-”

 

“Okay, god, fine! If it gets you to shut up.” Bakugou angrily took a bite of his tempura roll, which he tried to make look intimidating, but just made Bakugou looked like an angry kitten. “Seriously, you’re almost as bad as Deku when it comes to rambling.”

 

Midoriya sighed.

 

“So like - I dunno, these two people were yelling about something - and there were a bunch of dead butterflies - and someone was - you know what, I dunno, I remember sounds, but not a lot of images.” Then, his expression turned slightly irritated. “And you were there.” He pointed to Midoriya, who’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “It was like - what you said that day when we were on the bleachers?”

 

“LSD dreams?” Midoriya replied, kind of confused.

 

“Yeah - kinda like that. Uh, actually, come to think about it, you’re in my dreams a lot.” Midoriya rolled his eyes, but Momo looked deep in thought.


Then, she said what no one wanted anyone to say, but probably what everyone was thinking.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“...Bakugou, have you been having wet dreams about Midoriya?”


 

 

 

 

Bakugou, who was in the middle of drinking some water, spat it out, water dribbling from his nose. Midoriya’s eyes widened, face flushing a brilliant shade of red.

 

 

“WHAT THE FUCK MOMO?!?” Bakugou shouted, over Momo’s flustered attempts at apologizing.

 

“I’msosorrythatkindofjustslippedout - oh my god, I am SO sorry-”

 

 

 

 

 

Midoriya slumped down on the table, burning cheek pressed against cold metal, feeling the familiar feeling of wanting to bury himself underground and die painfully.

















Chapter Text

Which agency to pick?

 

Midoriya stared at the long list of agencies that had sent him applications. While he was flattered, he realized that none of them would probably take kindly to the fact that he had little-to-no control of his quirk. True, he could activate it in stressful circumstances, but just in practice? Nope.

 

Maybe he could just say that he was quirkless… it did still say that on his birth certificate. He would have to get that changed.


However, one agency stood out above the others.

 

Endeavor only usually volunteered for the winner. But instead, he had picked Midoriya, over Bakugou, who showed much more physical prowess over him.


So why?


Maybe it was because I beat his son, Midoriya realized. That’s gotta be a blow as a parent - he probably wants to see what I’m made of.

 

Should I though…?


“Think I should go with Best Jeanist?” Bakugou asked Momo behind him. “He is the number three hero.”

 

“You like jeans?” Momo retorted.

 

“Fair point.” Bakugou scratched that off his list, and leaned forward. “Hey Deku, you pick anyone yet? I’d like to get this over with, it’s lunch time and I’m fucking starving.”

 

“Or you could just say; I support you and all, but could you please speed up? You know, like a normal person?” Momo shot back.

 

“You’ve been a bad influence on her, Kacchan.” Midoriya sighed, putting his pencil down. “Soon, she’ll be screaming the f-word every three seconds and yelling at people to die.”

 

“Hell fucking yeah, join me.” Momo and Bakugou high-fived, and Midoriya groaned.

 

Momo, you’re supposed to be the sensible one, don’t get corrupted by Bakugou!


“I think… Endeavor.” He marked the box next to the agency, and turned the packet to the next page.

 

“Seriously?” Momo leaned forward to peer at Midoriya’s paper. “I thought he only gave agency offers to the winner of the sports festival.”

 

“Yeah, me too.” Midoriya, ignoring Bakugou’s salty glare for fear of him throttling Midoriya, turned to fill out his application. “It says quirk here - what should I put?”

 

“Put a question mark.” Momo said. Bakugou nodded reluctantly. Midoriya moved to do that, but something stopped him.


He noticed a lone head of blue hair, sitting by himself in the back of the classroom, eating lunch by himself.


“Wait - why isn’t Iida eating with his friends?” Midoriya mumbled.

 

“You didn’t hear?” Midoriya turned to see a somber Momo pulling up a news article. She stuck it in his face, and it read:

 

 

 

Hero Ingenium, paralyzed after devastating attack by the Hero Killer:

 

 

 

 

“Oh.” Midoriya inhaled sharply, and turned to look at Iida. That would explain why he looked so awful. “Oh my god, I -”

 

Iida stood up suddenly, clenching his bento box so hard it looked as if it would shatter into pieces at any minute, and practically ran out of the classroom, Midoriya’s eyes trailing after him.

 

“A little un-tactful to talk about his crippled brother like he can’t hear your pitiful whispers.” Bakugou remarked. Momo paled.

 

“Oh my - I’m going to apologize.” She stood as well, dashing out of the room, ponytail swishing behind her. “Iida - wait up!”




And then it was Midoriya and Bakugou.



“Sooooo…” Despite the fact that they were (kind of) on good terms again, it was still really awkward to talk one-on-one with the explosive blonde. “Nice weather today, huh?”







Endeavor’s agency was just like the man himself.

 

Big, tall, imposing, and angry-looking.

 

Midoriya couldn’t say he was completely confident when he filled out his application, but any shred of confidence he had was completely torn to shreds when Endeavor looked up and said: “You’re quirkless?”

 

Midoriya sweated nervously, feeling his limbs shake. “Uh - not e-exactly, I don’t - don’treallyknowthespecificationsofwhatmyquirkdoesyet.” He blurted out, then internally slapped himself, because that was PROBABLY the worst thing to say to the number two hero.

 

“...How did you beat my son then?” Endeavor crossed his arms, looking for an explanation. Midoriya gulped.

 

“H - his form -”

 

“Stop your stuttering and get on with it, I don’t have all day.” Endeavor hissed. Midoriya jumped, bowing quickly before plowing on.

 

“Todo- your son’s form was flawed. He valued his quirk over actual defense, so all I needed to do was slip past his blind spot, his right eye, since he couldn’t see anything on that side except ice since that’s the side it pops out on, and then hit him. For some reason he launched himself out of the arena with his fire, I don’t know if I did that or if he was just nervous, but -”

 

Endeavor held up a hand, and Midoriya stopped talking, biting his tongue so hard it drew blood. “I’ve heard enough.” He said. “Fascinating.”

 

He turned back towards the building. “My assistant, the hero Dragon-Eye, will show you around.” He didn’t look back.



Midoriya sighed. This was going to be a long week.







Momo was glad she had signed up for Miruko’s agency instead of Uwabami’s, because she was getting non-stop complaint texts from Kendou, saying how it was more of a model stint, and less of an actual training experience. Guess Bakugou really did know what he was talking about when he called her a sell-out.


Miruko, however, was hard to keep up with, as she moved incredibly fast throughout the city. Momo had created some high-jumping boots and a water bottle to help her keep up, but she was getting tired. They soared over Hosu, and she took a second to take in the city’s glowing lights, letting Miruko bound ahead of her on her usual rooftop patrol route.



Then, she heard something.





A scream.





Momo quickly turned in the direction of the scream, bounding the other way, Miruko soaring to the back of her mind. She followed the sound, as the screams didn’t stop. If anything, they were getting louder.

 

They were coming from an alley. Her heart sank when she realized -







-The screaming sounded familiar.








Landing feet first in the alleyway, Momo sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.



Because there, before her, was Iida.


A knife being twisted into his back, blood and flesh spurting up around it with a sick bubbling sound.



“IIDA!!” She screamed. The person standing above him stiffened.

 

“Another one?” He growled, straightening up.





And Momo’s breath caught.






“You kids just keep crawling out of the woodwork to bug me tonight.” The Hero Killer said coldly. “Guess I’d better teach you a lesson.”


Chapter Text

Endeavor was refusing to talk to him.

 

Midoriya had been brought on the patrol, surrounded by stone-faced and serious looking heroes, who, for the most part, seemed to be following his example in his behavior with Midoriya.

 

Were all hero patrols like this? They were supposed to be serious, sure, but this was unbearable. The tense atmosphere was palpable, like you could cut it with a knife. Was he making the pros uneasy? If Endeavor didn’t want to talk to him, why submit a request for him and only him? Why-



“Quit mumbling.” Midoriya jumped at Endeavor’s harsh words, the first thing he had spoken to him all day. “Sorry sir.” He stuttered out.




The night was dark, and the streets were pretty empty. Hosu was never very busy at the best of times, but at night, with the hero killer prowling about? Well, that was two bad signs to stay indoors, and everyone in the neighborhood seemed to get the unspoken message.




Still. He wished that someone would talk to him, give him some advice at least -







His phone pinged.

















“Leave him alone!” Momo yeled, hands shaking as she summoned her fighting pole from her leg. Stain scowled at her.

 

“He challenged me, child. If he didn’t want this fate, he wouldn't have come.”



“Iida?” She breathed in disbelief. He turned weakly, eyes twisted in pain and pure rage.

 

“Get… out of here - my fight, not yours-” He hissed through clenched teeth.

 

“Please, you’re in no shape to face me.” Stain said coldly, swirling the knife idly through his fingers. “But, if you’re so eager to save your friend, go on.” He advanced into fighting position, legs shifting to a defensive stance, knife pointed at Momo.



“If you leave now, perhaps I’ll make this boy’s death quick.”



Momo’s heart beat wildly in her throat. She was no good in hand-to-hand, especially against someone who’s quirk seemed to enhance his fighting capabilities, she guessed. He wouldn’t be so confident otherwise.



But then, she remembered Uraraka’s fight with Bakugou. The way she had expertly crafted a plan that no one had saw coming. Something you wouldn’t expect.




Look for another angle.




Uraraka was right. Momo wouldn’t be able to fight her way out of this. She would have to be clever.



“Make your choice child, I haven’t got all night.” Stain shifted his fighting position to  an attack stance, and lunged.



But Momo was ready.






As fast as she could, she pulled out a flash grenade from her arm, and pulled the pin. Momo saw the shock on Stain’s face for only a split second, before the grenade went off, blinding both of them. In her haze, Momo groped around, feeling the ground, until she felt Iida’s arm. Quickly, she grabbed him, flinging him over her shoulder, and running out of the light filled alleyway.

 

But she hadn’t grabbed Iida.



“Let go of me.” Stain hissed. Momo ducked, dodging a blade to the head, and backed up. They were out of the alleyway, on to the street, but there seemed to be no one around.



The extra space was all Momo needed. Quickly, she pulled out another stun grenade, but Stain was ready this time. He sliced it out of her hand, blade deftly missing her palm.



But Momo had expected that. Stain  assumed she had no physical fighting skills.




He assumed wrong.




Momo, copying a move she had seen Midoriya perform countless times in their sparring sessions, grabbed Stain’s forearm, outstretched from his lunge towards her, and pulled him forward, only to spin herself around and kick him in the balls.




Stain let out a low grunt of pain, as Momo shifted again, this time to kick him in the throat. Stain stumbled back, blood running out of his mouth, down his chin. Whatever she had done to his throat, it hadn’t been anything good.

 

“You -”




He was interrupted by a gunshot to the leg.






“It takes me a few second to make a gun,” Momo started to slowly walk backwards towards the alleyway, hoping the shot in the leg would be enough to cripple him. “And I don’t like to kill people, not to mention you weren’t giving me the few seconds I needed to make this. But I feel like this is an appropriate moment to do so.”

 

Stain made a move to get up. Momo, on impulse, despite the writhing guilt in her stomach for hurting someone this badly, shot him in the other leg.




Stain howled.






That’s a sound I’m never getting out of my brain.






“Stay down,” Momo spat. “Be glad I’m keeping you alive.”



Quickly, she called the police, and shouted something vaguely comprehensible before hanging up, chucking her phone behind her, and making a mad dash for the alleyway.



Iida lay there, next to a corpse of a pro hero. She had arrived too late, Momo realized. The pro had bled out - and Iida would soon if she didn’t do something.




Quickly, Momo pressed down on the wound, causing a barely conscious Iida to groan in protest.

 

Shut the fuck up ,” She hissed at him in a panic. “I’m saving your life, so get over this whole goddamn revenge quest and LET ME HELP YOU -  you’re NOT Inigo Montoya, so STOP ACTING LIKE IT!!

 

Iida looked shocked at Momo’s unusually harsh tone.

 

But then, Momo realized, he was staring in fear at something else.





Before Momo knew it, something had grabbed her by the waste, claws cutting into her skin. Momo shrieked as she was lifted up, off the ground, away from Iida, who weekly reached back to her. Momo flayed and twisted, only to look up and see the same monstrous face of that - thing, at the USJ staring right back at her.

 

Licking its lips.




Ohmygod , Momo’s mind raced at a hundred miles a second. Thatthingisgointoeatme!!

 

Over the rooftops they went. Momo twisted and clawed at the beasts hads, still firmly holding on to her waits, but to no avail. They were gaining traction now, high enough over the city that she would probably die if she fell from this height. Her legs and arms were held fast, so she had no way of using anything she created. The city fell away on to the highway, a blur of cars racing down a river of concrete.

 

So the only thing left to do was scream.




And scream she did.




Momo was probably too high up for anyone to hear, but she screamed anyway. She shouted and screamed and pleaded until her throat was raw. Until the city fell away, and all that was left were a few cars on a road that led off from the highway.



The thing had won. It had gotten her away from everyone else.



Momo sagged in defeat, sticky tears running down her face, the cold air rushing past her face brushing them away.

 

I’m going to die, she realized. I am going to die like this. This thing is going to eat me.

 

Is this how he felt when they found him? Is this what I get?



For not setting Midoriya free?








The treetops gave way to a clearing. The beast started to descend, and Momo could vaguely make out other hulking humanoids like it in the clearing all watching her be lowered. Preparing to feast on her flesh.

 

This is like a scene from a bad action movie , Momo’s hysterical mind helpfully supplied her with, and she started bitterly laughing, sides aching. I’m the damsel, being lowered into a pit of monsters, and then out of nowhere, the handsome, rugged protagonist would come and save me -







Then, a blur of green shot out of the trees, glowing blue swirling around the figure. There was a flash, a great tearing sound, and Momo was falling. The monsters scattered, all flying off in different directions, as she fell. Then, Momo rolled, shielding herself with the monster’s body, and they hit the ground with a defaning thud.











Midoriya slowly came to, head ringing. Hearing someone yell over him.




“Midoriya!!” Suddenly, arms crushed around his sides in a tight bear hug, yanking him out of his sleepy haze. The arms belonged to Momo.



“Momo?” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What - where - what the heck just happened?”

 

“You saved me!” She exclaimed, not letting him out of the bear hug. “That thing carried me away, and you - you killed it.” They both turned to see the monster, neck charred with burns. “How did you do that?”

 

“I - I don’t know. I don’t remember.”







His phone buzzed. It was a text.

 

Your friend is in danger.

 

It was a picture of Momo, facing the Hero Killer, Stain.

 

I’m taking over.

 

And everything went black.






“It was weird. I got a text -” Midoriya pulled out his phone, only to see that it was broken, crushed in the fall. “Shit.” He mumbled. “Oh my god Momo, I totally forgot - are you okay?”

 

“I’m alright.” Momo grimace, pulling up her shirt to look at her bruised ribs, small cuts from the monster’s vise grip. “Just a little battered. You good?”

 

Midoriya nodded. “We need to find the -” He was cut off by a beak poking out of the shadows.




The monsters were back.




Midoriya’s heart leapt into his throat, all the bloodstained images he had tried to block out from the USJ flooding back into his mind. Last time, he had killed everything around him.



Only now, if he used his quirk, he would kill Momo as well.



“Momo, run.” He said, pushing her behind him.

 

“No,” Momo hissed back. “You can’t fight all these things on your own.”

 

“Momo, GO!” He yelled, patience and control lost.

 

“I WON’T!” Momo yelled back, equally as fierce. “YOU’RE MY FRIEND AND I’M NOT LETTING EVERYTHING I DID BE FOR NOTHING!!”



They stopped, as the monsters had circled around them.

 

They were surrounded.





But then, the most surprising thing happened.




The head monster, the one that had carried Momo away, crawled up to Midoriya, so they were face to face. Neither side moved.

 

Then, the monster softly bumped his mask against Midoriya’s face guard.





“...What?” Momo looked astounded. Midoriya was still frozen, in fear of any sudden movements provoking the beast. But one by one, they all sat down, unhostile.



“..Holy shit.” Midoriya breathed.

 

“They’re… friendly?” Momo asked. Then, something dawned on Midoriya.



“Their leader is dead - the one who controls them.” Midoriya realized. “So now, they probably ran off so they don’t have to attack anyone anymore.”



“Oh,” Momo breathed. “Oh dear.”





Then, sirens sounded in the distance. The monsters scattered, flying and running away. Momo pulled Midoriya towards her so they wouldn’t get trampled, and in about two seconds flat, all the creatures had run off.




“What the fuck.” Midoriya breathed.





Then, he fainted.















The time was 1:26 AM.

 

Enji had just dealt with the Hero Killer, two unlicensed quirk usages, one from his own agency shadow, and about two hours of paperwork.

 

He sighed, It had been a long day. But now, thanks to that boy, he knew what he and Shouto would be training for tomorrow -




“No, you won’t.”




A familiar voice issued form the shadows of his bedroom. Enji jumped, hand whipping to the lamp to turn it on.




It didn’t.




“Who’s there?” He growled, flames flickering to life.

 

The figure’s shadows surrounding him didn’t move with the light, as if they were wrapped around him. “You won’t touch a hair on Todoroki’s head again.”

 

A drop of blood hit the floor, as if the figure had a nosebleed. “In fact, you won’t do anything at all.”



“Get out of my house,” Enji stood, rising to his full intimidating height. Standing up, he could see the figure was no taller than a child. “Or I’ll make you.”



“You’d be wise not to make threats with me.” The figure said, neck seeming to stretch and extend until they were eye-to-eye. “After all -”



The shadows of the room rose up to meet Enji’s fire, snuffing it out.






“You have a habit of underestimating your opponents.”



And Enji screamed.



Chapter Text

midoriya sat in th police station sadly. suddently bakugou burst into the room.

 

"deku i just wanted to let you know that i actually think youre really hot and stuff" he said. "i think i have a thing for getting boned by clones"

 

"sweet" midoriya said and then they started making out on the police station couch.

 

"wow" said someone in the backround. "i cant belive that despite the fact that the author didnt put the bakugou/midoriya tag in, they actually did get together"

 

"yeah, i cant belive that all the underlying sexual tension that was obviously put in on purpose actually went somewhere" someone else said.

 

 

 

suddently, momo burst into the police station riding on the back of a nomu, both of them wearing a cowboy hat. "yehaw motherfucker." she said. "ive come here to interrupt to your moment because A: to stop this from becoming a smut fic, and B: because -" momo then whipped off a mask to reveal -

 

 

"@Squiped_Mew!" she exclaimed. the boys gasped. "yes it was me the whole time. im here to prematurly end this fic because i can"

 

"mew, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!" midoriya exclaimed. "how cld you do this?!?!"

 

then, a bunch of nomus in cowboy hats trampled in.

 

 

 

"i have to stop the nomus!" midoriya said.

 

"no midoriya." mew said. "you ARE the nomus."

 

 

and then midoriya was a zombie.

Chapter Text

Darkness again. The blindfold chafes into his nose, thick fabric itchy and hot.

 

“You know, this would go a lot faster if you’d stop flailing around.” It’s the doppelganger again.

 

“I’m blind Mr- what should I call you?” It’s strange. He’s getting accustomed to waking up in places with little memory of where he came from. He remembers a lot of the other trips down to wherever they are, but he doesn’t know what happens when he returns. Does he forget the trip when he’s on the top layer?

 

“Three.” Calloused hands shove a stick in his hands. “Use that to orientate yourself, I need to get rid of these guys.”

 

He fiddles with the stick in his hands for a few minutes, figuring out the best way to use it, ignoring the demonic screeches and gushing noises in the background.

 

“You done?” He remarks when he hears Three’s footsteps walking towards him.

 

“Quit it with your sass, we’ve got places to be. I don’t want you getting lost down here anyways.” Three says, brushing by him. “Again, it’d be a pity if you got lost.”



He shrugs. Three is… strange. He doesn’t even really know who he reminds him of. Someone. Someone familiar.



“Why do you keep bringing me here anyways?” He asks, swishing a few rocks on the ground aside with his stick.

 

“I like you,” Three replies simply. “And I can’t really talk to you when you’re on the top layer, can I?”



Why not? There was a reason, wasn’t there?

 

“I could always take someone’s body or something - but I don’t like to do that. Although -” Calloused hands run down his forearm, and he stops.



“Being lithe is nice, but I always wondered what it’d be like to have your physique.”



Something foreign and slimey curls up in his stomach at Three’s tone. It sounds sinister - but not. Like too-sweet honey.



“I mean, look at yourself - oh wait, you’re blindfolded.” Three laughs, low and crackly. “Strong arms, legs… I bet you get a lot of attention from females.”

 

“I do - at least, I think so.” He says, feeling his ears burn. “I don’t really remember.”

 

“Hm.” The hands on his arms are gone, feeling Three swish by him. “Well, at any rate, that’s enough about your rippling pectorals. Let’s move -”





A rush of wind.




A crumbling.



The ground gives out under him, and -










Bakugou woke up to the sound of his text alert ringing.







 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“My mom called. She’s on her way.” Midoriya set his phone down on the table next to the hospital bed. Momo, seated in a bed next to him, sighed, exhausted.

 

“My parents said the same. They’re probably not going to be as nice.” She mumbled.

 

They both turned to look at Iida, back turned to them, trying his best to seem asleep.



“Iida?” Momo asked. Midoriya hadn’t been filled in on what exactly happened but whatever the case, Iida seemed to have gotten himself into a load of trouble. “You… doing okay?”

 

“I’m quite alright Yayazoru, please leave me alone.” The curt response startled Midoriya. He had never heard Iida sound that… defeated before.



“...I don’t think you’re getting kicked out of the hero course, if that’s what you’re worried about -”

 

“It’s not that.”



Momo closed her mouth.



“Please leave me alone. I won’t ask again.”



She did, turning back to Midoriya. “I also sent a text to Bakugou - he should be over in the morning-”





“WHAT THE FUCK.” Everyone in the room jumped, Momo shooting a paintbrush out of her arm on accident, Midoriya squeaking and bundling up under the covers, and Iida’s engines sparking, setting the blanket on fire.

 

“Jesus christ!” Momo, the quick thinker, pulled a fire extinguisher out of her stomach, blowing the fire out, but spraying their visitor in the process.






The figure wiped the foam out of his eyes. It was Bakugou.



“Bakugou?!” Momo and Midoriya exclaimed at the same time.

 

“I thought you were coming in the morning!”

 

“Couldn’t sleep - enough about me, the hell did you guys do?!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I leave you two alone for A DAY - and you’ve already run off and almost gotten killed! I can’t believe it!”



“Sorry.” Momo and Midoriya mumbled in comparison.

 

“Yeah, you better be fucking sorry, another attack like that and next time I’ll be talking to you, when you’re buried six feet under!” Bakugou huffed dramatically and flopped down in a chair.

 

“Glad to see the living manifestation of explosive diarrhea is as loud as always.” Momo mumbled.

 

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU!”




Momo and Midoriya burst out laughing, but stopped by hearing quiet sniffles.




It was Iida.



“I - Iida?” Momo leaned over to poke his backside. “You - you okay? Was it something I said?”



“It’s just -” He turned to look at them, face red and scrunched up. “How?”

 

“How what?” Midoriya asked.

 

“How did you - how did you three make friends?”



“What?” Midoriya was surprised that this was the question. “What do you mean?”



“It’s just - I see you three hanging out all the time - and I just - no one in Class 1-A likes me!” He exclaimed. “I know it’s because I’m a stuck up, but I just adhere to the rules because I don’t want anyone getting hurt or in trouble! And all I do is drive people away - how did you do it?”




The three of them looked at eachother.

 

“It sort of just… happened, I guess.” Momo interjected finally. “I mean - Midoriya and Bakugou have known each other for a long time, right?”

 

They nodded. “I wouldn’t have called us friends, but yeah.” Bakugou admitted.

 

“And I just sort of - introduced myself to Midoriya one day. And I guess these two are a package deal, or at least their emotional baggage is.” Momo admitted. “So I guess my advice to you would be just… introduce yourself. Let the other person talk.”

 

“Assert your dominance.” Bakugou interjected. Midoriya shushed him.

 

“And if all else fails - well, I like to tell a joke.” Momo said, face a little red. “Even if it’s not very good - the quickest way to being someone’s friend is either common interest or humor.”

 

“Oh.” Iida stared at his hands, picking at his fingernails. “I guess I do dominate the conversation a little bit, don’t I?”

 

“Damn straight.” Bakugou replied. “Also, don’t be an asshole.”

 

“That’s a given,” Midoriya said. “Besides, that’s never stopped you from making friends.”

 

“You little -”




“Midoriya Izuku?” All four heads turned to see a policeman stick his head into the room. “We need to interview you.”







“Is this about last night?” Midoriya asked, static buzzing in his head. He could make out of the corner of his vision, his fingertips beginning to steam, like it usually did when he was nervous.

 

“No - well, yes, but not about Stain. That’s been cleared up, as there’s no evidence Yayazoru or you used your quirks - this is about Endeavor.”

 

“Huh?” What did he have to do with this?




“Last night, he was found in critical condition in his house. His eyes had been scalded out with boiling water, and it appears his leg bones were removed from his body.”



Midoriya gasped, static reaching a crescendo. What had happened? Was it because he ran away that the killer had gotten an opening to Endeavor? Was it -



“Midoriya, please.” The investigator’s calming voice grounded Midoriya, clearing away some of the static and vapor pouring from his fingertips that only he could see. “Endeavor is still alive, but barely. I understand you’re concerned, but I need you to think clearly if there was anyone at his agency who could’ve done this.”

 

He thought long and hard. A traitor? The only members he had met formally were Dragon-Eye, and Endeavor himself.

 

“I don’t think so.” Midoriya admitted, twisting his knuckles. The investigator nodded. “Will Endeavor recover?”

 

“He will, but he’ll be blind and crippled for the rest of his life.” He said. “And it’s no question that he won’t be able to return to heroics.”



Ah.



Midoriya expected to feel pity, but found none inside himself. All there was, was a calm tranquility, as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. Then, he felt guilty for feeling that way.



“The thing is, the injures look self-inflicted, so all sources point to the villain Puzzle.” The investigator said. “Do you know who she is?”

 

“Yes - she mind-controls people, so they do what she asks. No one knows what she looks like.” He spouted automatically. His tenth quirk notebook had a page dedicated to her.



“I see. Well, if you see any signs of her, please let us know. It seems like she’s targeting Endeavor’s agency. Also,” He slid a contract in front of him. “I need you to sign this. It’s an article of legal confidentiality.”

 

“For what?” Midoriya asked.

 

“For the Stain incident. The official story is that he was apprehended by the police, as there were no witnesses to prove us otherwise.”



“Okay…” Midoriya signed his name quickly, then stood up. “Thank you sir.” He said.

 

“Thank you, Midoriya, for cooperating with us. I’ll be interviewing the other two witnesses in a minute. In the meantime, your mother is waiting in the lobby.”








“Aren’t you going to ask about it?” Midoriya asked when he and his mother got in the car.

 

“I can see you aren’t going to give me an honest answer, so no. There’s no point.”







The two of them lapsed off into silence.

 

Chapter Text

“Shouto…”


Todoroki’s father stared at him, or where he assumed he was. The once-powerful hero was now laying in a hospital bed, hands an iron grip on the bedposts to orientate himself. “I heard your footsteps… you came to see me?”

 

Of course his father would know what his footsteps sounded like. Todoroki could say the same about him, but for entirely different reasons. His father learned the sound to catch him. Todoroki learned the sound to know when to hide.

 

“You will find who did this to me.” His father’s tone hasn’t changed from it’s usual cold fury, but it was now laced with the sort of desperation that a man dying of thirst would use when convincing someone with water to give it to him. “You WILL Shouto. You will avenge your father.”

 

Even humiliated, humbled, and crippled, he was still nothing more than a tool for his father.


Todoroki didnt say anything, simply turning away from the pathetic sight. His father’s face was reminiscent of his burn scar, only it was the whole face, and his legs hung limply, twisted, flesh purple and mottled. Apparently the bones had burned up from the inside, a trait only Endeavor’s quirk could do. Only his flame would be powerful enough to take down the number two hero from the inside.

 

The power he cherished so much was his downfall. Todoroki chuckled.


How ironic.



“Father.” He said. His father’s head swiveled in his direction, eyeless sockets expanding and shrinking with every crinkle of his brow.

 

“I’m done with being your tool.”


His father said nothing, but his clench on the bedposts got tighter.


“If you want vengeance so badly, get out of bed, and track down the culprit yourself. Because it’s not my problem.”

 

Silence.




“You know this person will come after you, right.” His father said coldly. “Don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re safe.”


Todoroki sighed. While his father might be right, he had a feeling that this incident had nothing to do with him.


Perhaps he felt that way because he knew his father couldn't hurt him anymore.



“Goodbye, father.” Todoroki turned for the door, ignoring Endeavor’s pleas for him to stay, to sit, to listen to his father.



But he was done listening.










Todoroki sat outside the hospital. Fuyumi was going to pick him up in about twenty minutes, so he had some time to kill. He absent-mindedly took out his phone and opened the bejeweled app.


“Nice night.” Todoroki dropped his phone.



Midoriya was sitting next to him, green bangs swept into his face. There were two large cuts along his face, one on his nose, and one on his cheek, and his knuckles were bleeding from what looked like scratches.



Todoroki remembered when he looked like this.






“Hello.” He said calmly back. “It is nice out.”


The two of them sat quietly next to each other, neither party wanting to say anything.




“You’re not really Midoriya, are you.”


Midoriya didn’t answer, just kept staring at the moon. But a small trickle of blood slid down his cheek and fell onto his palm.



“What makes you say that?” Midoriya replied finally.

 

“You just act so different. Not to mention the hair.” Midoriya-not-Midoriya poked his fluffy mane out of curiosity. “He never wears it in his face like that.”


“And also…” He felt rather bad about saying this about Midoriya (the real one), but he probably had to. “The other Midoriya… he’s just kind of - cold, if you get it. He just looks so disconnected all the time, out of touch - and you don’t come off that way.”

 

“What do I come off as?” Midoriya-not-Midoriya asked, curling a green ringlet around his finger.

 

“...Honestly, you kind of remind me of my mom.”



Midoriya-not-Midoriya didn’t say anything for a few seconds.


Then, he began to cry.




Todoroki had to hand it to him, the guy was a quiet crier. So quiet that it took Todoroki a second to figure out that he was crying.

 

“Did I say something?” Todoroki asked, not entirely sure what to do. “I-”

 

“I just - god, everything’s so fucked up.” Midoriya-not-Midoriya warbled. “I just wanted everyone to get along, and now everyone’s trying to kill each other.”


Todoroki didn’t exactly know what he was talking about, nodded as if he knew.


“And I - I’m just sick of running around all the time!” Midoriya-not-Midoriya threw his hands up in exasperation. “And no one seems to care about you - I just…” He trailed off silently, wiping tears off his face. “I just worry. About how you’re taking all this.”

 

“My father? Oh, I could care less.” Todoroki lied.


Truth was, he did feel something towards his father, curling up in his stomach, but he pushed it down. “As far as I’m concerned, the bastard got what he deserved.”

 

Midoriya-not-Midoriya sniffed. “But you…” He trailed off. “Nevermind. Forget it. Sorry to bother you.”

 

“Uh -” But he blinked, and Midoriya-not-Midoriya was gone, his head resting against the back of the bench.


Had he fallen asleep?


“Shou!” Fuyumi was honking her car’s horn at him. “You done napping?”


“Uh - yeah.” Todoroki ran over to the car, pushing foggy memories from his mind. He’d freak out about that encounter later.









 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two.


I’m sorry -


I’m going to STRANGLE YOU.


Please don’t.


There hasn’t been a bigger idiotic idea, since Three thought it would be a great idea to bring his date to the depths of human perception. You’re AN IDIOT.


I just - wanted to see how he was doing! After everything that had happened!


He doesn’t need anymore intervention, I already took care of his dad!


He didnt seem happy about it though!


It wasn’t his choice.


It wasn’t our choice to make!

 

You’re right. It wasn’t.


I just - forget it.


We’ll talk about this later.


What’s the status on reuniting all the pieces?


As soon as we can get her off her ass and away from her parent’s influence, we should be good.


How much does One know?


Not too much.


Okay. We should be good then. Operation Puzzle is ago?


Affirmative.


Chapter Text

“The final exams are coming up.” Momo said on their way to school. Midoriya sighed.

 

“Yeah… I know.” He had almost forgot, with all the legal repercussions for the Stain fight and Momo and his feverous attempts to find out where the Nomu’s had run off to, to no success.

 

“Hey Bakugou - what happened to your hair?”

 

Bakugou's hair, for once, was straightened out, laying flat on his head. He looked increasingly displeased with this, veins in his jaw throbbing.

 

“Best Jeanist.” He spat out. “He did this to my hair - and it won’t go back to how it was.”

 

Momo stifled a laugh, Midoriya smiling at how silly he looked. “It looks like a cow licked your hair or something.” Momo snickered.

 

“Shut up, titsmgee.” Bakugou snarled. “Can any of you make me a hat or something?”

 

“Aren’t hats against school policy?” Midoriya asked as the trio approuched the front of UA.

 

“Fuck off.” Bakugou stuck his chin out and refused to say anything else, but his ears kept getting redder at Momo’s chuckles.





“So,” Aizawa started, staring out at the sea of students. His gaze landed on Midoriya for a split second, but he tore his eyes away. “There will be two sections to your finals - practical, and written.”

 

As he delivered the speech he was mandated to give, something caught his eye.

 

It was in the hallway. Someone was lurking about in the hallway.

 

“-And that’s it.” Aizawa hurriedly finished his speech, ignoring the alien knot of fear in his stomach. “Study.”

 

He dashed out, to see the figure round the corner. Aizawa chased after the stranger, turned to corner -







“It’s actually nice out for one, you guys wanna eat outside?” Momo asked when they all sat down for lunch. “I can make us a picnic blanket if you’d like?.”

 

“Sure,” Bakugou said, not really paying attention. His mind was focusing on something else.


Human noises

 

A wet sound

 

A strange feeling in his abdomen

 

The sliding of fabric on skin

 

Something cutting into his nose

 

And a freckled face leering down at him, curls brushing his face.



Bakugou smacked his forehead lightly with his palm. Why on earth he kept having weird dreams about Midoriya, he had no idea. Maybe his brain was just really fixated on the case with Midoriya’s doppelganger. Whatever the case, he decided to put it out of his mind.

 

The small pond in the back of UA was a really nice spot, as the trees blocked out the sun that would overheat them, but it wasn’t too cold either. Perfect for eating.

 

“No one’s around here,” Momo said, spreading the picnic blanket. “So we should be good. Hopefully the teachers won’t yell at us.”

 

“Never took you for the rebellious type.” Bakugou remarked. Momo rolled her eyes.

 

“I don’t actively try and piss people off, unlike you.” To prove her point, Momo jabbed Bakugou in the stomach with a polished finger.

 

“Fucker!” Bakugou threw his sandwich at her face, causing her to laugh. Midoriya watched all of this from the side, swirling green eyes flitting back and forth between the two.

 

“Kacchan, I think you’ve been a bad influence on her. She used to be the mom friend, and now you’ve ruined that.” Midoriya flopped over on the ground, dramatically (or dramatically for Midoriya standard, which would be flopping louder than usual). “Who’s going to make sure we all eat food when we’re studying now?”

 

“Uh, Bakugou?” Momo pointed a finger at him, a smile on her face. “Honestly, he’s more of the mom friend than me - he’s just very aggressive about it.”

 

“I am not.” Bakugou shot back, crossing his arms. Momo laughed.

 

“Weren’t you the one who yelled ‘hydrate or die-drate at Midoriya the other day when he was studying, and then threw a water bottle at his head?”

 

“...” Bakugou looked like he wanted to object, opened his mouth, and then closed it. “Mother fucker, I AM the mom friend!” He exclaimed dramatically. “I’ve become the thing I’ve hated!”

 

“Baku, noo!” Momo yelled in her best Darth Vader voice, and flopped over in between the two boys.



“Nobody move.”



Midoriya was frozen, eyes crossed in order to see the butterfly that had landed on his nose, purplish-blue wingtips brushing his face.

 

“Oooh!” Momo scrambled for her phone to get a picture. “That’s a - an atala butterfly, I think. I have a corkboard of butterflies in my room - don’t move, this is a good shot.”

 

Momo’s phone clicked, startling the butterfly into flying off Midoriya’s nose. Momo and Midoriya both sighed in disappointment.

 

“But hey - I got the shot!” The picture showed the butterfly, wings pumping in mid take off, still perched on top of Midoriya’s nose. “You look like you’re about to sneeze though.”

 

Midoriya sighed. “Yeah, I’ve never been very photogenic.” He says.

 

“He hasn’t.” Bakugou piped up. “You should see his school pictures, they’re hilariously terrifying.”

 

The three of them watched as the butterfly flew upwards, flight lopsided, seeming to struggle for any traction.

 

“You can do it!” Momo whisper-shouted to the butterfly. “Poor guy - maybe someone stepped on him-”



“YOOOOOOOU THREE!” All three jumped, turning to see Present Mic, standing on top of the hill, looking down right at them. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO EAT OUT HERE! GET YOUR BUTTS BACK INSIDE!”

 

Momo sighed in disappointment. “At least we got to go outside.” She said. “C’mon guys.”

 

As Momo and Midoriya packed up their picnic stuff, Bakugou’s eyes wandered to a flower.

 

Beside it, lay the butterfly, wings twitching, legs standing straight up, it on it’s back.



Dead.








Nedzu looked over the submission forms for the pairings during the practical exams. “Is it okay if I switch a few of these around?” He asked Aizawa, who was fidgeting anxiously.

 

“Go ahead, I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Nedzu chuckld at that, and started scratching things out with a revisionist pen.


When he handed it back, there didn’t seem to be too many changes. But one in particular caught his eye.

 

“Bakugou and Midoriya? Nedzu, that’s a horrible idea.”

 

“Oh no, it’s not.” Nedzu said, folding his pas over into resting position. “These two seem to have a history together - and what better way to get them to realize their full teamwork potential then through this exam?”

 

“Last time these two were together in anything quirk related, Bakugou went into shock.” Aizawa deadpanned.

 

“Well, that didn’t happen during the sport’s festival, so I think we’ll be okay.” Nedzu put the file back in his drawer, and leaned forward. “I’m going to be frank with you for a minute. Have you noticed anything peculiar about the activation of Mr. Midoriya’s quirk?”

 

“It activates when he’s stressed, or randomly.” Aizawa shot back, voice passive and neutral.

 

“Well, yes, and no. For some strange, no doubt emotional reason, it seems to be extra active around Mr. Bakugou.” Nedzu leaned back in his chair, black beady eyes glinting.

 

“And I for one, can’t wait to see what happens.”


















His head hurt.

 

Why did it hurt so much?


His eyes opened to a ceiling of a pavillion, familiar chipped wooden beams staring back at him.

 

He shot up, to discover he was sitting in a makeshift cot, blinds pulled over the windows of the pavillion. A freckled face stared back at him, holding a kettle.

 

“Oh - you’re awake?” He opened his mouth, but the boy plowed on. “Thank god, I knew Three was taking things to far, but my god, why would he even consider bringing you down that far? Thank god you were blindfolded, or else you might have lost it - that’s happened before, it’s never fun. You came so close to touching the void last time, I had to veil your brain - oops, maybe I shouldn’t have said that -”

 

“Slow down.” He held up a hand, and the boy stopped. “You’re talking a million kilometers a minute, I can’t understand you.”

 

The boy’s face pinned, and he went back to showering tea leaves inside the kettle.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Oh - Four. You can call me Four. Hi.” Four never stopped moving, legs shaking as he ran around the makeshift kitchen. “It’s a good thing Two isn’t here - I don’t think he’d be very happy to see you - I mean, not a lot of us are - that came out wrong I mean - I’m glad you’re here! Kinda.”

 

“Uh -”

 

“Four.” The spitting image of the boy poked his head inside the pavillion. “I - what the fuck?”

 

“GET OUT OF HERE!” Both he and the doppelganger jumped at Four’s sudden switch from nervous to feral rage. “I TOLD YOU THAT NO ONE COMES IN HERE UNTIL I SAY SO!!”

 

The doppelganger shut the door quickly. Four exhaled, then turned back to him, face returning to normal.

 

“Tea?” He asked politely, as if he hadn’t just exploded at the other boy. As if he was fine.

 

“...No thanks.” It then occurred to him that this boy was probably not entirely sane. But then again, was anybody?

 

“I insist -” Four stopped, hearing voices outside. It sounded like two people were arguing.

 

“Two! Quick - “ Suddenly, there were hands around his neck. “I’m so sorry about this.”

 

He clawed at the vice grip around his neck, as his vision began to swim, The room started to fade to black, the last thing he saw was someone with their bangs in front of their face, barging inside, and Four beginning to shout again.





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And a familiar cracked ceiling greeted Bakugou, as his eyes opened on exam day.

Chapter Text

A throne stands in a dark room, comprised of shadowy faces and scraping claws, all looming outward. As he stares, the throne seems to stretch into infinity, it’s geometry and build making no sense.

 

What was it?

 

He felt as if he should be afraid. But instead, he felt nothing.

 

“It’s been here all this time.” A voice echoes behind him. He turns, seeing a familiar freckled face staring at the throne.

 

“Our rightful place.” The boy says, abyss-like eyes never tearing away from the throne, which was now looming over them, almost bending forward. “For millennia it’s stood unclaimed. No one has the gall to take it. No one has the gall to face us.”

 

“Why are you including me in this?” He asks.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” The boy laughs. “Soon, once we’re free, we’ll take this place back. No one can dispute this throne. You won’t be mistaken for a mortal again. Don’t you want that?”

 

He doesn’t really know what he wants. But he does know that this throne isn’t really on the list.

 

“I don’t think so.” He mumbles. The boy turns to look at him, neck bones cracking, extending.

 

“You don’t?” It isn’t a question. It’s a threat.

 

He shakes his head, and the freckled nightmare sighs, shadows around him never moving despite the green fire surrounding them.

 

“You’ll understand in time. But now -”

 

The claws holding the throne up extend towards his legs, tumbling to the ground, hearing faces and voices shriek out in a shrill harmony -





Midoriya woke up, lungs on fire. He vaguely registered a high-pitched noise, and then he realized it was coming from him, a scream that teetered on the edge of some wild animal’s call. Quickly, he ran to the bathroom, in time to throw up his dinner, black bile spewing from his mouth. He hacked and coughed out everything until he was dry heaving, and then collapsed in a pile on the bathroom floor.

 

The coolness of the tiled floor was blessed, satingating some of the raging heat in Midoriya’s cheeks. He took deep breaths, trying to get his breathing back to normal.

 

It was just a dream - it was just a dream -

 

Midoriya stood up, walking over to the sink to splash his face with water. His face is a bit of a mess, red as a tomato, flush and pale. There’s a small dribble of vomit on his chin, and he wiped it off, embarrassed.

 

Only then, he noticed something.

 

His reflection wasn’t moving.

 

Midoriya moved an arm. The reflection didn’t mirror him.

 

“Wh - what?” His reflection grinned cruelly.

 

What did you expect?” The voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard. “There’s nothing for you to see here.

 

“G - go away.” He hated how small he sounded, like a terrified child.

 

Name me.” His reflection snarls, green eyes a swirling mess.

 

“No.”

 

Name me.

 

Midoriya punched the glass.

 

The mirror shattering into a million pieces around his fist, echoed throughout the silent house. He barely registered the pain, only focusing on quelling the raging terror coursing throughout his body.

 

He heard a thud, followed by his mother running in. “Izuku, are you -” Her head swiveled to the mirror. “What the hell happened?!” She exclaimed, staring at the broken mirror in horror.

 

“I - I’m sorry -” He choked out, familiar tears starting to trigger. “It was - it was an accident -”

 

“Izuku, what the fuck!” She swept up the glass, hardly even looking at him. “You could have punched a hole through the wall! You would have broken your wrist! You -”

 

She turned, finally registering him crumpled on the floor. “Izuku?” She mumbled, looking uncomfortable. “What - what happened?”

 

“It was - it was just a bad dream mom.” He warbled. “I - don’t worry about it.”

 

Inko breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, can you clean this up?” She asked quietly, a rare sign of concern leaking into her voice. Midoriya nodded, and his mother smiled. “Thank you Izuku.”

 

Silently handing the broom to him, Inko slowly closed the door, leaving Izuku behind on the floor.

 

She hadn’t even noticed his bleeding knuckles.

 

“Of course,” Midoriya mumbled to himself, mind spirling in a billion different directions. “Of fucking course my reflection can talk - why wouldn’t it?”

 

He wanted to cry, to yell. But he couldn't do that. He didn’t want to piss off his mom worse then he already had.

 

After cleaning up all the glass, pulling the shards out of his knuckles and bandaging them, he went to go back to sleep.

 

Of course, he couldn’t.

 

So he sent Momo a text. Surprisingly, she responded.

 

 

 

3:17 AM

 

 

 

 

Momo?

 

Why are you up?

 

why are you up

 

insomnia is annoying. i have trouble sleeping sometimes.

plus, sleep is overrated.

 

mood.

 

but youre never up this early

baku says youre a heavy sleeper

 

how would he know that 

he hasnt slept over since fifth grade

 

is he wrong tho?

 

fair point.

i had a nightmare

couldn't sleep

 

 

oh oof

you good?

 

im ok

threw up 

punched a mirror

feel better now

 

yeesh 

do u feel sick?

often when im sick i have rly bad nightmares.

 

no i feel fine

it's weird tho 

last time i had a dream like that i was in the hospital 

oh shit maybe ur right 

 

im always right

 

ill go take my temprature.

37.2 cel

 

ah ok 

maybe its just an infection

or pre exam nerves

 

kacchans always talking about weird dreams and i think i get it now

 

lol

wouldn't it be funny if that was your quirk and the rest of it was just dumb luck

 

yeah 

it would be

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

Midoriya Izuku is not normal.

 

That, Yagi knew. Watching the boy, there was an instinctive wrongness to him, his face waxy like a mannequin. His movements stiff and jerky. Always keeping his guard up.

 

Especially around the stomach.

 

So when he was paired to fight him, afterwords, he went up to have a word with Nedzu.

 

“Nedzu, do you think you could -”

 

Nedzu held up a gloved paw. “I’m not changing the matchups if that's what your asking about.” He said. “You could stand to learn something from these fights too, along with the kids.”

 

“What could those two teach me?” Yagi scoffed, a bit of bitterness leaking into his tone.

 

“Quite a bit, if you ever stopped to listen.”

 

Yagi hated when Nedzu was cryptic like this.





 

 

 

 

 

 

The bus ride to the arena was quiet. Too quiet.

 

Midoriya wasn’t too thrilled in being paired with Bakugou - heck, really the only reason they got along was because of Momo. She was sort of the mediator between the two.

 

And Bakugou seemed better - less angry. But still - Midoriya was worried that he still hated him.

 

Then again - well, his mind flashed back to the conversation they had during the sports festival in the bathroom. Bakugou had almost punched a hole in the bathroom stall door - Midoriya swore he dented it.

 

Was he mad?

 

 

 

It was always hard to tell with Bakugou.

 

 

“Stop mumbling nerd.” Midoriya jumped, seeing Bakugou look up from fiddling with the settings on his now wrist-sized gauntlet next to him. “You’re giving me a headache.”

 

“S - sorry Kacchan.” Midoriya squeaked, turning quickly to face the window, so fast he could hear his neck bones crack a little. Bakugou stared at him for a few more seconds, then went back to his gauntlet.

 

The trees flashed by in a green blur. Midoriya looked at his reflection in the bus window - pale and full of fear.

 

 

 

 

Then, for a split second, he saw someone behind it.

 

 

 

Someone in the woods.

 

 

 

Someone - someone who looked just like him.

 

Midoriya’s eyes widened, but it was too late, as the trees snatched away the figure in the overgrowth as quickly as he came. Midoriya craned his neck to look for the doppelganger - but he was gone.

 

“What’s the problem?” Bakugou grunted, still not looking at him.

 

Midoriya looked out the window again. Still empty forests.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “Just my imagination.”

 


 

 

 

All Might gave them five minutes to prepare before the physical exams. Bakugou had immediately started forward the minute they were in, Midoriya tailing after him.

 

 

 

“So… what’s the plan?” He asked timidly.

 

“Fight him.” Bakugou replied stiffly.

 

“Great! Now can we fine tune the plan so it - doesn’t suck?”

 

 

Bakugou gave him a lethal look, causing Midoriya to shrink in on himself. “Look nerd, you have any better ideas?”

 

Midoriya was about to just let Bakugou run off, but then he registered Bakugou’s tone of voice.

 

It wasn’t mocking. It was a genuine question.

 

“Uh -” He heard the bell ring in the distance, signaling the start of the exam. And a booming voice.

 

“HEROES!” All Might shouted, causing both to jump. “YOU’D BEST BE PREPARED! COME AT ME WITH EVERYTHING YOU HAVE!”

 

In the distance, before the gate, they could see the faint outline of the Symbol Of Peace, raising a fist.

 

“DODGE THIS!” Midoriya registered what he was going to do before he did it.

 

“KACCHAN, LOOK OUT!” Grabbing the taller boy by the arm, he yanked him into a back alleyway, just in time for a huge gust of wind to tear down the street, ripping concrete out of it’s hold, dumping trash cans, and creating a whirlwind of debris that settled in the road, creating a huge block.

 

“Jesus christ - is he trying to kill us?!” Bakugou exclaimed, before darting away.

 

“Hold on!” Midoriya ran at top speed to catch up to the seething teen. “We can’t just run blindly into this - we need to think! Kacchan, stop for a minute, and -”

 

“THERE YOU ARE!” All Might swooped down from the rooftops, landing creating indents in the concrete. “You won’t beat me if you run away!”

 

Bakugou swung, but All Might caught his fist easily, throwing him to the side. “You’ll have to do better than that!”

 

 

Midoriya’s mind blanked, not knowing what to do. His quirk was moot, his friend was now half unconscious on the ground, and a giant wall of muscle was blocking his way from escape.

 

 

 

His stomach twinged, the familiar pain sparking an anger he hadn’t felt for a long time. Without thinking, he gave an almighty kick to All Might’s side, the swing precise.

 

 

 

He didn't expect it to do anything. But surprisingly, All Might staggered back, a small grunt of pain escaping his lips.

 

Midoriya’s eyes widened.

 

 

He had found All Might’s weak spot.

 

 

Quickly, before the man could recover, Midoriya grabbed, Bakugou, slinging him over his shoulder, and ran the other way, scaling debris with an adrenaline fueled panic. He ran, and ran, and didn’t stop until they were far away, in another alleyway.

 

 

Midoriya watched as Bakugou slowly came to. Rubbing his head, the taller teen quickly survived the area. “What the fuck just happened?” Bakugou hissed.

 

“I told you - we can’t just blitzkrieg this!” Midoriya whisper-shouted. “He’s so much stronger than us. Use the brain cells god gifted you with!”

 

“What god,” Bakugou snorted, but stopped when he saw the look on Midoriya’s face. “Okay smartass. What’s your big idea?”

 

Midoriya quickly explained All Might’s weak point, and what to do. Bakugou listened intently, nodding his head every few seconds.

 

“Okay,” He said when Midoriya was done. “Aim for the side. Got it.”

 

“No,” Midoriya grabbed his hand before he could run off again. “That’s what he’s expecting. We need to surprise him.”

 

 

Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Midoriya sighed, and started to explain his idea.



 

 

 

All Might was impressed. These kids really knew how to hide.

 

“Ten minutes left!” The timer exclaimed. All Might smiled to himself. They’d have to come out soon, and he was standing right by the gate.

 

“What will it be boys?” He called out. “Fighting, or failure?”

 

The answer was a resounding war cry as Bakugou Katsuki launched himself out of the shadows, and right into All Might’s face. The punch stung, but he hardly felt it as he retaliated with a punch that broke Bakugou’s gauntlet in half.

 

 

“Where is your partner?” All Might asked, voice full of gusto, despite the fact that he was not. “Aren’t you supposed to be working together?”

 

“I don’t work with him.” Bakugou spat, hands shaky, trying to get up. “He’s a weakling.”

 

All Might felt a flood of relief that they were separated, but quelled it quickly. That was no way to be thinking about his students.

 

“You’d do well to work with others!” All Might said, doding the fury of blows Bakugou was throwing at him. “A hero is nothing without his friends!”

 

“SHUT UP!” A particularly hard blow struck his legs, and Bakugou stumbled, just in time for him to receive a punch to the stomach so hard, the boy threw up.

 

Internally, All Might cringed. After his training with Torino, he had sworn never to make a student throw up. But here he was, doing just that.

 

 

“You’ve been so focused on other’s growth, you’ll never grow yourself!” All Might exclaimed, picking Bakugou up by the arm. “After all, no one evolves at the same speed.”

 

“That’s nice.” Bakugou’s entire demeanor changed, from enraged and crazy to… bored, almost. “But I’ll tell you what I’m gonna focus on-”

 

 

 

All Might heard a whooshing noise behind him. He turned to see -

 

“-This badass grenade gauntlet!” Midoriya yelled, pulling the pin, just in time for the blast to hit him directly in the injury that All For One had given six years ago.

 

Oh shit.




Midoriya didn’t wait to see All Might fly back into a building from the impact. He did, however, see his arm bend into an angle it really shouldn’t be in.

 

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THIS THING HAD RECOIL!” Midoriya shouted over the sound of the building collapsing behind them as they ran.

 

“YOU DIDN'T ASK!” Bakugou screamed back. “NOW RUN!”

 

Ten feet away.

 

Five feet.

 

Two.

 

“Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki have made it through the escape gate.” The automated system announced with a monotone beep. “They have passed!”

 

 

It took Midoriya a bit to slow himself down, stopping with an almighty tumble into the grass outside. Bakugou skidded to a halt next to him, only to step on his shoelace and fall as well.

 

The duo lay there, a sweaty, bloody mess.

 

 

Then, Midoriya started to laugh.

 

 

Bakugou looked at him like he was crazy, but then a sharp grin spread across his face as well. And the two of them were laughing hysterically in the yard outside the testing area.

 

 

It was a little very hysterical, and everything hurt. But Midoriya was going to mark this down as one of the best moments of his life.

 

 

“We passed!” Bakugou exclaimed, ecstatic. “We’re not dead!”

 

They continued laughing until Midoriya threw up.




 

 

 

“You really did a number on those two.” Recover Girl scolded Toshinori as he stood outside the healing tent. “What were you thinking! Bakugou had a cracked rib - the one that was already injured from the USJ - it’s going to take months to fully heal! And don’t get me started on Midoriya’s arm - it broke in three different places!”

 

 

“Don’t blame me for that,” Toshinori sighed. “That was from the grenade gauntlet.”

 

 

Recovery Girl sighed in exasperation. “I have to give them some credit.” She muttered. “Pretending to still hate each other was a great ploy to get you to let your guard down.”

 

The anger in Bakugou’s face when he was fighting him wasn’t fake.

 

But he had a feeling it wasn’t directed at the boy specifically.

 

 

 

“They’ll make a pretty good duo someday, if they choose.” Recovery Girl let a hint of a smile leak through, listening to the chatter inside. “I know it.”

 

After Recovery Girl left, Toshinori stood alone, staring at the wood.

 

He caught a glimpse of black at the edge of his vision, a blur of color. Instincts kicking in, he turned -

 

To see nothing.

 

Toshinori sighed. He needed a tylenol.



 


 

 

 

 

 

“Holy shit!” Momo exclaimed when she walked into the tent. “What happened to you two?!”

 

“All Might.” Bakugou and Midoriya said simultaneously.

 

“Gosh - you guys okay?” Momo asked, voice filled with concern.

 

“Barely.” Bakugou grumbled, feeling his ribcage shriek in protest as he sat up. “I got thrown against a wall and this nerd was dumb enough to not know that explosions have recoil.”

 

“Heyyy… you always seemed fine when you used them!” Midoriya exclaimed, eyes still closed. “I assumed they were designed not to break your goddamn arm!”

 

“Enough about us.” Bakugou turned to look at Momo, suppressing memories of the fight in his head. “How’d yours go?”

 

“Well,” Todoroki stuck his head in the tent, looking fairly unharmed. “Momo had a plan, but so did I, so we compromised.”

 

“We got Aizawa stuck in his own capture scarf thingy.” Momo said, rubbing the back of her head. “I figured out how to make them from Mei.”

 

“Who?” The name didn’t ring a bell for Bakugou.

 

“She’s from the support course.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Okay you two,” Recovery Girl entered the tent, having finished talking to one of the substitute teachers. “Shoo, I need to check up on the boys.”

 

 

Momo and Todoroki left the tent, but not before Momo flashed them a thumbs up. Bakugou flipped her the bird in response.

 

 

“Kacchan, that’s not very nice.” Midoriya scolded as Recovery Girl checked his injures.

 

“It’s our love language.” Bakugou shrugged, then immediately regretted that when his rib cage pain flared up.

 

 

Recovery Girl frowned at an injury on Midoriya’s knuckles. “These look like puncture wounds - but they’re not fresh. How -”

 

“I punched a mirror.” Midoriya mumbled. “This morning.”

 

“Why?” Recovery Girl rubbed her temples. “Nevermind - let's look at you.”

 

 

 

Recovery Girl started to examine Bakugou’s injures, but stopped, looking at his neck.

 

 

“Young man, what’s this?”

 

 

“What’s what?” Bakugou asked, confused.

 

“Those marks on your neck.”

 

“What -” Bakugou pulled his phone out to look at his neck. Sure enough, there were -

 

 

 

 

“Are those hand marks?” Recovery Girl exclaimed in disbelief. “When did this happen?”

 

“I - I don’t know. I just noticed it.” Bakugou ran a hand over the marks, hand what looks like a vise grip. It almost looked like he had been strangled.

 

 

 

 

But that was dumb. Because he’d remember that, right?

 

Chapter Text

After the exam, Midoriya stopped wearing shoes to school.



Bakugou didn’t really notice at first. He just assumed that he had forgotten his shoes that day or something. But the second day, he realized that his choice (or lack thereof) of shoes was intentional.

 

So did Aizawa. The first few times he told Midoriya to put shoes on. He didn’t, and Aizawa gave up.




“What’s with the shoes?” Bakugou asked at lunch. Midoriya looked up from his lunch, a small grain of rice stuck in one of the curls of his hair. Bakugou pretended not to notice.

 

“I dunno - I like the feeling of the ground under my feet, I guess. Helps me be more grounded - reminds me that I’m here and not astral project myself or something.”

 

Bakugou nodded, not really understanding what he was getting at. Momo slid over to the table, lunch tray in hand.

 

“Tomorrow's the last day before break!” She sing-songed. Midoriya nodded and Bakugou gave a small thumbs-up.

 

“Well, aren’t you two full of life today.” Momo remarked, taking a huge bite of her food. “I was wondering if tomorrow, if you guys wanted to come to the mall with Ochako and me.”



On one hand, Bakugou didn’t really want to socialize with anyone he didn’t know very well, especially someone who had beat him during the battle exercise.

 

“I’ll go.” Midoriya said absentmindedly.

 

“Same.” Bakugou said without really thinking about it.




Oops.










“He knew where your weak point was?” Nedzu asked calmly when Toshinori explained the details of what went down during the exam.

 

“Yes - and it wasn’t an accidental hit. He aimed like - like he knew where he was aiming.”



The memories of the first time he met Midoriya flickered through his head, and he wanted to tell. But at the same time....

 

“I see.” Nedzu took another sip of his tea. “I think I have an idea of what Mr. Midoriya’s quirk is.”

 

“Do tell,” Aizawa mumbled from the corner, looking sullen.

 

“It seems he has some sort of intuition quirk - which would explain how he always seems to know what will happen before it does.”

 

“Intuition quirk?” Aizawa’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ve never heard of anything like that before.”

 

“They’re quite rare.” Nedzu replied. “Usually it gives the user some sort of a gut feeling towards events that will happen. I have met some students that have them as well - though none to the extent that Mr. Midoriya has.”

 

“But that doesn’t explain the physical damage he caused.” Toshinori interjected. “Like during the entrance exam.”

 

“Well, for one, we didn’t get to see if it was really him who did that - but my guess is that he’s got a grab bag quirk - possibly telekinesis combined with intuition that’s caused some strange mutations in his abilities. The intuition can also affect others if it can be emitted with telekinesis, which would explain the uneasy presence he has.”



The room was silent.




“Oooh.” Aizawa said. “That explains a lot actually.”

 

“It’s not a sound confirmation - but the best one we’ve got so far.” Nedzu replies, shuffling a few papers on his desk. “I’ll have to look into it. In the meantime, you two are dismissed.”





Once alone in the hallway, Toshinori allowed his thoughts to catch up with him.




While most of what Nedzu was saying made sense, one thing didn’t.




A sickening squish, slimy and wet bits bubbling up between his knuckles, the overwhelming metallic stench of blood and stomach fluids -





He had tried to write off that incident as some sort of hallucination caused by Midoriya’s quirk or the like.



He hadn’t gone back to Daughbough beach to check - he didn’t want to see if the body was still there.




But there was no way intuition could cause that sort of vivid hallucination.




Unless -















The mall was fairly empty, which was nice.

 

Uraraka had been carrying most of the conversation, Momo and Bakugou interjecting occasionally to say something.

 

Midoriya’s mind was preoccupied with something else.




Waking up to head-splitting scribbles on the wall, gouged in with scratches - words that made no sense in his human mind, the familiar geometry of his room spinning around him -




“Hey Deku.” Midoriya shot up to see Bakugou staring at him, the rest of the group a few paces ahead. “You coming or what.”

 

“Can - can you give me a sec?” Midoriya mumbled. “I have a cramp and need to sit down.”



Bakugou didn’t look too convinced, but left him alone regardless. Midoriya didn’t really have the time to feel bad, because he was too busy staring at a shadowed silhouette in the middle of the crowd, face freckled with miniature stars.



No one else could see them.




“Who are… you?” Midoriya felt a twinge of fear strum in his gut, aching from a phantom wound he never had.

 

“I could ask you the same thing.” The voice is a cacophony of inhuman voices, but familiar at the same time. “What are you doing in this flesh mob.”

 

“Can you rephrase that?” Midoriya, clinging to the remaining threads of his sanity, scooted over on the bench to make room for the being in front of him. “And why can’t anyone see you?”

 

“They don’t want to.” The figure replied matter of factly.

 

“Can they see me?”

 

“Do you want them to?”



Midoriya thought long and hard about that.



“Not really.”

 

“Well then there’s your answer.”




Neither party said a word for a few minutes.

 

“What’s your name?” Midoriya asked, knuckles twisting into various shapes.

 

“Midoriya.” The figure replied.

 

“I’m Midoriya. You can’t be me.”

 

“Then call me Seven.”



Seven. Seven wasn’t a usual name for someone, was it?




“The others don’t want you to know.”

 

“Know what?” Seven turned, shadows never shifting on his figure despite the bright light he gave off.

 

“I can’t say. But I’ve come to warn you.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Your friends aren’t your friends One.” Midoriya vaguely recalled a conversation in a pavillion where someone had called him that, and in the back of his mouth he tastes cherries. “There’s one who just watches you for their own gain. For appease. Don’t trust any mortals.”

 

“I don’t understand.” One of the trees lined up in a neat row shakes, its massive girth shaking a few leaves. He sees carvings.

 

“What’s in that tree?”

 

“Go look.” Seven is gone, no puff of sparkles. He’s simply there, then he’s not.



Midoriya stood up, slowly walking over to the tree. The carvings are just as blurry as they were when he was sitting far away.

 

When he got closer, he could see that the carvings were shifting texts of blurry words, ones that gave him a splitting headache, a phantom smell of his room in his nose.

 

But one carving is normal.



One stands out above the rest.




And it’s his name.























“Hey Deku.” Midoriya shot up once more to see Bakugou staring at him, the rest of the group a few paces ahead. “You coming or what.”




 

 

 

The tree was nowhere to be found.

Chapter Text

Hello?

 

 

Oh, it's you. I've been doing okay, yeah. 

 

 

He's... he's something alright. I just - I dunno. And I hate having to deal with that crazy blonde all the time. I always feel like I'm gonna get stabbed or thrown off a cliff or something. 

 

 

The Nomu? Well, I haven't seen them in a while, they ran off when Shigaraki died, so I don't think that'll be a problem. The police will probably find them before we do, don't worry.

 

 

No, I'm not worried. I'm not sure what part of 'don't worry' you don't seem to get. 

 

 

He doesn't seem to have figured it out yet, but I've got a feeling his friend has. I dunno what he did to him but like - well, it's weird. It's kinda weird. This whole thing is hella weird.

 

 

Uhuh. 

 

 

Okay.

 

 

Thanks for checking in. I'll submit my investigation notes tonight after this. 

 

 

Yeah.

 

 

Bye. 

 

Chapter Text

The courtyard outside of UA was crowded with students, blending into each other, creating one huge, white mass. Midoriya could hardly breathe with all the people crashing into him.

 

“Hey nerd -” Bakugou squeezed through the mob, duffel bag in hand. “You still not wearing shoes?”

 

Midoriya looked down at his bare feet. Ever since the mirror incident, he liked having bare feet. It was a signal to him if he could feel the ground or not if he was awake or asleep.

 

Wait - isn’t not being able to tell the difference between reality and dreams a sign you’re going insane?

 

“...Is there something wrong with that?” Midoriya mumbled, ears red. While he and Bakugou were friends now (sort of), he still felt like he was walking on eggshells every time the blonde showed up. Memories of middle school always resurfaced in his mind, a reminder that Bakugou was - and still kind of is - very votiale.

 

“I mean - assuming we’re doing training today, you probably don’t want to get your fucking feet destroyed by rocks or whatever.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Only you could get bested by a bunch of rocks on the ground.”

 

While the insult lacked any real bite, it still stung a little, but for different reasons then what Bakugou had probably intended.



Rocks and sand filling his lungs, the taste of metallic flooding his mouth, feeling his eyes boil under the heat of the grainy sensation, unable to breathe, think, only pain and betrayal -



“I brought my sneakers.” Midoriya defended pitifully, pointing to his suitcase, being loaded inside the bus. “You know - I’ll wear them during training and stuff.”

 

The strange dreams were becoming more and frequent, a now nightly ordeal. While Midoriya had always had weird dreams, they were never this… viceral. He’d never remember any sensations, but even now, he felt like he could still feel sand in the back of his throat.

 

What was that all about?


“Hey, have you seen Ponytail?” Bakugou’s eyes darted around the crowd. “I haven’t seen her yet - is she not going?”

 

“I’m here!” Momo dashed out from behind the bus, stashing her phone in her pocket. “Sorry - I had to take a call. What’s up - oh hey Midoriya! Still no shoes?”

 

“The next person who comments on my lack of shoe choice gets a flip-flop shoved up their nose.” Midoriya grumbled. Bakugou barked a laugh, just in time for Aizawa to stick his head out of the bus and yell for everyone to get on.







“Why’d we stop?”


The ‘rest stop’ was nothing more then a cliff top overlooking a forest. Mineta yowled something about having to pee, but Midoriya’s eyes were more focused on a limousine pulling up.


And lo-and-behold, out stepped -



“The Wild Wild Pussycats?!” Midoriya exclaimed, causing the two members present to turn to look at him, their eyes large and quizzical. Midoriya flushed under their stares. “S- sorry.”


What were two pro heroes doing here? And where were the rest of the Pussycats?


“Well well,” Mandalay said, brown bob swishing with every flick of her cat ears. “A loud lot we’ve got this year, right Eraserhead?” The stoic teacher mearly grunted in response. The other hero, Pixiebob, slides in front of Mandalay, taking in the crowd.

 

“Wow, what have they been feeding you guys? You’re all tiny!” She exclaimed, head tilted playfully.

 

“Hey, I’m just small-boned!” Mineta’s indignant voice cried out somewhere in the large blob that was 1-A. Pixiebob laughed.

 

“Okay then. Let’s see if you’re any stronger than your height suggests!” Mandalay pushed Pixiebob aside, looking annoyed.

 

“Ignore her.” She said, glaring at the offending lady. “Now, we have a challenge for you.”


Mandalay pointed to the forest’s horizon. “On the other side is the camp.” She said, a mischievous grin across her face. “You have to get across this forest before lunch time if you’ll want any food!”

 

“You’re kidding,” Ojiro groaned.

 

“Well, it’s not that bad,” Momo interjected, looking out at the obstacle before them. “If we walk quick, I think we could make it in good time -”


“But there’s a catch.” Pixiebob said, a strange lilt to her voice. “You’ll have to get through me!”

 

“Wait, what -”



And then a huge wave of earth shot up under the teens, sending them flying over the cliff edge. “YOU’VE GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING!” Someone (probably Bakugou) screamed in ignition.


Mandalay poked her head over the cliff. “You all have permission to use your quirks, this is a privately owned area!” She yelled at them. “Good luck!”





“Pixiebob can control the earth.” Midoriya explained as everyone got their bearings. “She uses that to create earth monsters.”

 

“Well then, we’ll just have to fight through these guys!” Kirishima exclaimed, to a resounding yell of tactics and strategies -



“Guys.”

 

Everyone turned to see Bakugou gesturing at the now - empty road, a cloud of dust blown up by the receding bus plumbing overhead. “It’s so obvious, just walk along the road.”



Everyone was silent.



“Oh.” Kaminari mumbled finally. “That makes a lot more sense.”







Twelve minutes later, after everyone had either hoisted themselves up, flew, or climbed, they were now on the road.

 

“Most likely Pixiebob’s only using her quirk’s radius ability on the forest.” Midoriya mumbled. “Hopefully she’ll just assume that we’re being sneaky long enough for us to get away.”

 

“Great plan Bakugou!” Kirishima held up a hand for a high five, which Bakugou turned away.













“Any sign of the kids?” Aizawa yelled to Pixiebob, eyes closed in the backseat of the bus.

 

“Nope. They’re a sneaky bunch alright.” She said. “I’ll just have to uproot trees until I find them!”

 

Mandalay shook her head at her colleagues recklessness, but Aizawa was a little preeoccupied.



Sneaky? His class?


Yeah, they were about as sneaky as setting off fireworks in a glass shop.


Well , he figured as her turned back to face the road, at least they learned something from my class.










The road was dusty, long, and after about ten minutes of walking, a few of their classmates had started to complain about the heat.


“Look, get used to it. It’s a hero thing, having to endure shit.” Bakugou yelled in response, to a huge groan and a few eye rolls.

 

Momo was in the front of the back , carrying Todoroki on her shoulders, who was lookout. “See anything?” She asked for the fifty-millionth time.

 

“Nope.” Todoroki was crunching on what seemed to be ice - why do people eat ice anyways? Midoriya wondered . It’s cold and gets stuck in your teeth until it melts.


“Todorokiiiii, lend us some iceee…” Mina groaned. Todoroki gave her a look.

 

“We’re off the property, so we can’t use our quirks.”

 

“Then how come you’re making ice?” Kaminari piped up.

 

“I can’t help that, it’s a knee-jerk reaction.”


After another twenty minutes, everyone stopped to rest.

 

“There has to be a faster way of doing this.” Ojiro groaned as Momo passed out water bottles. Midoriya agreed.

 

“Hey.” Todoroki pointed down, below the plateau they were staying on, to the dusty road. “Guys look - the bus is coming up.”

 

Sure enough, the bus was rolling over a hill, coming close. Midoriya looked at Todoroki, who looked at Momo, the trio all thinking the same thing.

 

“Okay - on the count of three, we jump on top of that bus.”

 

“WHAT?!” But Todoroki and Momo were already readying themselves, Momo bouncing on her heels by the edge of the cliff. “You guys coming?”

 

“We’ll break our ankles!” Kaminari exclaimed.

 

Todoroki slammed his foot down in response, creating an ice slide.

 

“Not if I use my quirk.” he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

 

“Aren’t we -”

 

“What the law doesn’t know won’t kill them. Come on!” Midoriya hopped on the ice slide, ignoring the uncomfortable wetness and slid down, careful to keep his footing as he hopped on the bare back of the bus. “Hurry!”


Todoroki made ice slides all over the plateaus edge, just in case anyone missed their chance at one spot, and everyone quietly slid down, careful to stay out of sight of the buses review mirrors and windows.


Soon, all twenty of them were seated on the top of the bus, Iida in front, whispering to Uraraka, and Midoriya and Todoroki in the back, everyone full of pumping adrenaline.


“Good plan.” Midoriya whispered to Todoroki.

 

“Thanks.” He whispered back.








Aizawa heard a small thump on the top of the bus.

 

“You guys hear that?” He asked.

 

“Hear what?” Mandalay asked, eyes glued to her book.

 

“Nevermind.”











It was the tensest twenty minutes of the classes life, but finally, the bus rolled to a stop at the camp entrance, a small cluster of buildings positioned in almost a perfect circle. The students giggled and held their breath as the teachers climbed out one by one.




The small child that Midoriya had caught a glimpse of was the first to spot them. “Why the hell are you all on the bus roof?” He yelled.


All three heroes turned to see the 1-A students burst into laughter, Aizawa’s face turning an unflattering shade of purple.

 

“What the - how’d you lot get up there?”

 

“Well, you said we had to get across the forest - you never said we had to go through it.” Midoriya remarked. Mandalay laughed at that.

 

“I like these kids.” She remarked.

 

Aizawa rolled his eyes at that.

Chapter Text

As ‘punishment’ for exploiting such an obvious loophole, Aizawa made them all prepare dinner.



Midoriya, who hadn’t cooked a day in his life, had no idea what he was doing. He kept getting sent to different stations, as no one really wanted him to help, as he’d probably just screw everything up.

 

He felt like he should be hurt by this. But he really wasn’t.

 

Eventually, while he was chopping onions, an exasperated Bakugou grabbed the knife from his hand. “Christ, you’re awful at this.” He griped. “Watch and learn, nerd.”



Bakugou was much better with a knife then Midoriya was (almost scarily so), so he left Bakugou to mutilating the onions, and turned to go find something else to do.



His eyes landed on the small kid, sitting in the corner, watching them with narrowed eyes. “Who’s that?” He whispered to Todoroki, who was cooking the potatoes.

 

“I think that’s one of the Pussycat’s kids? I’m just a lowly potato cooker, I don’t know anything.” Todoroki deadpanned. Midoriya sighed, and approached the young boy, who looked up at him in response, eyes narrowed to slits in suspicion.



“Hi there.” Midoriya stuck out his hand for a shake. “My name’s Midoriya. What’s yours?”



The boy didn’t say anything.




“I’m not shaking your hand, you’re creepy.” The boy shot back, crossing his arms. Midoriya was taken aback by the child’s harsh response. Then, he sighed, years of that response teaching him how to react.



“I know. I can’t really do anything about that.” The boy’s chin jutted out in defiance, still refusing to meet Midoriya’s eyes.

 

“I don’t want to talk to any of you heroes.” He spat, contempt in his voice. “Go away.”



Before Midoriya could say anything, the boy pushed past him, a black blur as he ran. Midoriya stared at the spot where the boy once sat, brain strangely blank.




The answer you’re looking for is at UA.




That phrase had been haunting him these past few weeks. He had gotten into UA like the voice had asked, but he was no closer to an answer. If anything, he was even further, the strange apparitions making him concerned for his sanity. Not to mention how uncharacteristically hollow he felt, an aching feeling in his gut that never really went away.



“Hey Midoriya,” Kaminari waved to him across the yard. “Can you help me with the rice?”



“Sure.” He jogged over to meet Kaminari, not noticing the crunch of a crushed butterfly underneath his heel.

 

Or maybe he did. He just couldn’t find it within himself to care.












“You want to eat somewhere else?”



Momo’s invitation took Midoriya by surprise. They had finished dinner, everyone grouped around picnic tables, even though not everyone was sitting on them. “Sure. You want me to fetch Bakugou?”

 

“No.” Momo didn’t look at them as they cleared the grove, plates in hand. “He’s having too much of a good time with the others anyways.”



The angry shouting behind them didn’t really sound like Bakugou was having a good time. But Midoriya got the sense she wanted to talk to him alone.



They reached a clearing, the trees forming a perfect circle, almost like the enlarged fairy rings that Midoriya’s mother had paintings of in her room. It gave the clearing an eerie feel, like they were somewhere they weren’t supposed to be. But Momo had sat down, so Midoriya sat down next to her.



They ate in silence for a few minutes, Momo seeming to be deep in thought. Midoriya’s hands shook a little, unsure if he was in trouble or not. He opened his mouth to break the uncomfortable silence -



“Do you believe in God Midoriya?”



The question took him off guard, as did Momo’s tone of voice, as if she was revealing a deep dark secret. She still refused to look at him, staring instead at the dragonflies flitting about in the humid night air.



“I -” He couldn’t really say he had an opinion on the matter. He had never really thought about the possibility of a higher power at play, he just always assumed things were the way they were because the universe was designed that way. “I’m non partial.”

 

Momo chuckled at that, shifting so that Midoriya could see her face, strangely calm and blank. “You never have an opinion on anything.” She mumbled. “Classic Midoriya.”



He couldn’t tell if that was a jab or not, so he put the remark aside. “Why do you ask?”



Momo didn’t respond for a few seconds.



“I don’t know what scares me more, if there is a God or if there isn’t.” Momo’s eyes were still following the dragonflies, soaring back and forth, back and forth. “If there wasn’t, then we’d only have eighty or so short years of living before he disappear forever into eternal blackness, with only a small chance of ever being remembered. And if there was -” Her voice caught, fingers tearing out grass quietly.

 

“Then what?” Midoriya asked quietly.




“...He’d be the only person I couldn’t lie to. There’s no running from a God, no matter how bad you want to.” Momo mumbled, sounding more like an afterthought. “No matter which way you put it, it’s still terrifying to me.”




They sat in silence for a few more minutes, Midoriya mulling over what Momo had said to him.



God?



Why would she be thinking about that? God was such an abstract concept - especially for someone her age. Why would she be worrying about something as big as that? Wasn't that more of a midlife crisis thing? Besides, if God did exist, then, he decided, he’d be friendly. God wouldn’t hurt someone he could see all the good in.



“You’re mumbling again.” Momo said, back turned. Midoriya didn’t reply.

 

“Whatever. Just forget about it.” Momo stood up dejectedly, knuckles white against her plate. “You were the wrong person to ask - I just - it’s fine. Leave it.”

 

“Momo -”



Leave it .” She said, voice raising a few notches. Midoriya froze by her unusually harsh tone of voice. “...Thanks for the food.”



She walked out of the clearing, leaving only Midoriya, and the butterflies mingling in the air behind.












Fuck hotsprings, Bakugou decided. Who wants to share a hot spring with a bunch of sweaty losers? Certainly not me.



So instead after taking a private shower, he went outside to go practice his forms, particularly his kicks, something he hadn’t really focused on before.

 

Left, right, retreat. Left, right, retreat. Left, right -



He was so focused he didn’t hear the rustling of grass underfoot or someone’s footsteps behind him.



“You okay?”



The familiar voice sparked recognition in Bakugou’s mind, turning to see Midoriya, looking concerned, hair still wet, towel draped around his neck.



“I’m fine - wait, why are you here? Go enjoy your hot spring or whatever.”

 

Midoriya did not, opting to sit down in the grass instead.




“You didn’t answer my question.”



“Fuck off, asshat.” Bakugou punctuated his sentence with a particularly strong kick to the air, causing the leaves of a nearby tree to rustle.

 

“Show that air who’s boss.”

 

“Shut up, nerd.”



They stayed in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Bakugou’s movements falling back into a routine.



“...Do you believe in God?”



The question took him off guard. “Why’d you ask.” He grunted, not in the mood for another session of ‘Midoriya Makes Everyone Question Their Existence’.

 

“Actually, Momo asked earlier - and she seemed torn up about it. So I wanted your take?” Midoriya mumbled, looking embarrassed. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

 

“I don’t think God’s real. But if he was, I’d want to fight him.”

 

“You want to fight everyone.”

 

“I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but shut up.”

 

“Okay.”



Midoriya stood up to go back inside, but stopped at the doorway to the cabin.



“Hey, Katsuki?”



The first name took him aback. “What.” He said, still determinedly not looking at the smaller boy.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“What for?” Left, right, retreat. Left, right -

 

“For not being such an asshole anymore. It’s making you more popular with the others.”



Before Bakugou could ask about that cryptic statement, Midoriya was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.






Fucker.

 

Chapter Text

“Oh.”



 

 

He’s never heard Three sound so concerned before. The tone is new and foreign and it scares him.



 

 

 

Across the room sits a small child, hair in front of his eyes, blood running down his face.




 

 

 

Three is gone.




 

 

 

“Who are you?” He asks.



 

“Pathetic.” The child spits, tone too harsh for someone so small. “Three just ran off. Coward.”



 

“Who are you?” He repeats. The child glares at him, hate emanating from his hidden gaze.

 

“Quiet.” His throat constricts until he is.





Silence.





“Did you really think you could just waltz back into my life like nothing happened?”



 

 

“What?” He remembers something relating to this.



 

 

 

Did he do something… bad? He doesn’t feel like the type of person to do that.



 

 

“You make me sick .” The child’s standing right in front of him now, neck straining until they are eye-to-eye. “Fourteen years, and now you just decide that it’s okay to come back? Fucking really?”



Words escape his mouth before he can register, static ringing in his ears. The child screams back a response, drowning out the internal cacophony of sound.



 

“I HATE YOU! I just - you are a vile, disgusting, waste of space. I hate that you still act like you’re worth anything !” Blood gushes on to the floor, coming from the child’s nose - or eyes - somewhere. Red-stained teeth bare a sharp snarl, like an animal poised to attack. “I know things you don’t - I’m smarter than you - then anyone else in this shithole of a camp - there must be some reason why that isn’t emotional bias. There must really be something wrong with you -”





 

 

 

He snaps the child’s neck in response.




 

 

 

It’s like snapping a twig, almost. Easy, fragile, with a small clicking noise being the only indication that anything had happened to the child. He freezes, mid-shout. The static stops.



The childlike thing falls.




The black, empty space is silent, devoid of sound and feeling.




But then -




Popping sounds.



Brittle twigs snapping back into place, creaking joints and aching bones -






“You BASTARD. ” The child’s neck moves of its own accord, re aligning itself with the neck joint. “ YOU FUCKING -”





He’s cut off by a rush of wind and a fis to the stomach. Four stands above the child, mirror images, screaming something incomprehensible in a fit of rage terror emotion. The two are a wrestling, bloody pile on the ground until -








“THAT’S ENOUGH.”

 

 



A blast of wind separates them, both parties looking confused. There stands another, cold dark eyes narrowed to slits.




 

 

 

“Two -”



 

 

 

 

“SHUT UP! ” The bleeding figure staggers to his feet, swaying in place. “ YOU DON’T GET IT - NONE OF YOU DO!!”





 

 

 

 

The child - creature.



 

 

 

 

 

It’s eyes are ruined, cavernous bleeding holes to swallow someone whole.



































 

 

 

 

Midoriya woke up to shuffling feet, the door clicking behind him. He sat up, looking at the analog clock Ojiro had placed next to his futon. It read 3:17 in the morning.



 

 

 

 

Someone had gone outside.





 

Midoriya quietly climbed out of his futon, carefully opening the screen door behind him. The field surrounding the cabins was relatively clear, save for one tree seated on a mound.




 

 

 

 

Sitting criss-cross under it, was Bakugou.





 

 

 

Midoriya slowly walked over to him, like how someone would approach a wounded animal. “Hey,” He mumbled softly.

 

 

Bakugou jumped. “De - Midoriya?” He mumbled, voice slurred from sleep. “What’re you doin’ out here?”

 

 

“I heard you get up.” He said, sitting next to the taller boy, who was still refusing to look at him. “Are you -”

 

 

“Go away.”

 

 

The response was quick and harsh, but there was no conviction in it. So he didn’t.



 

 

“Were you not listening asshole? Go away.”

 

“No.” Bakugou stubbornly didn’t meet his eyes when Midoriya tried to look at his face. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“I don’t -” He made a noise that was a strangled combination between a grunt of annoyance and a sob of misery. “Fuckin’ - leave me alone!”

 

“Not until you tell me -”

 

“FUCK YOU!” The shout was so loud that a few birds took flight, rustling the leaves on the tree tops. The wasp nest overhead shook, but neither of them noticed it was even there.




“Shit -” He buried his head in his hands, shoulders shaking. “God dammit .”

 

Midoriya didn’t really know what to do, so he put his hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, silent. They stayed like that, Bakugou refusing to meet his eyes.




“I… I had a nightmare.” The taller boy finally admitted when he calmed down.

 

“Oh. I’m sorry - what happened?”

 

“That’s the thing!” Bakugou threw up his hands in annoyance. “I don’t - I don’t remember, but I know they’re important somehow, I just - fuck !”



 

 

Midoriya didn’t say anything for a few seconds, opting to just let Bakugou have a breather moment.



 

 

The stars twinkled overhead. The wasps buzzed.



“We should - we should probably move away from the tree, the wasps -”

 

 

“Fuck the wasps.” Bakugou angrily wiped moisture away from his face. “I - jesus man, you didn't really have to come all the way out here to deal with my pity party or whatever.”

 

 

“I’m glad to do so.” Midoriya said, half smile on his face.

 

 

“Why’s that.”

 

“Because I like you.”



 

Bakugou finally made eye contact, eyes red and water-rimmed.



They stared at each other for a second.




Two seconds.




Then, Bakugou pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face in them. “You’re fucking embarrassing,” He grumbled, ears red. “With all your friendship shit.”



That got a laugh out of Midoriya, and he was just about to say something else when he caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette crossing the hill between the girls and boy’s cabins.

 

 

 

 

“Momo?” Midoriya asked. She waved.

 

 

 

“I heard someone talking outside - woah, is he okay?” Momo asked, no trace of sleep in her voice.

 

“I’m doing fuckin’ fantastic .” Bakugou hissed back. Momo laughed.

 

“Geez, not even sleepy Baku is agreeable.”

 

“Shut your trap titsmgee.”

 

 

 

Momo sat down next to the duo. “Why are you up?” Midoriya asked.

 

“I have trouble sleeping away from home,” Momo said, face a little pink. “So usually I just don’t bother? And I was just up watching videos when I heard you guys, so I just figured I’d pop in.”

 

“Christ, you guys are like an emotional swat team.” Bakugou deadpanned. “Someone’s sad - boom, there you guys are.”

 

Momo barked a laugh, then pulled a pack of cards out from her arm. “Anyone up for a game of hearts?” She asked.

 

 

“I don’t know how to play.”

 

“Me neither.”

 

“You guys are uncultured.”






 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

Aizawa wasn’t expecting to see three kids making card stacks out on the lawn at the crack of dawn, but he had grown numb to the weirdness of his job anyways. As he got closer, he saw that it was Midoriya, Bakugou, and Momo.

 

“Any particular reason why you guys are up this early?” He drawled, causing the trio to jump and knock over the card stack.

 

“Our card castle!” Momo exclaimed. “We spent so long on it…”

 

“I couldn’t sleep so I went outside.” Bakugou replied.

 

“I followed him.”

 

“Same.”




Aizawa groaned. It was too early for these kids shenanigans. “Well, don’t come crying to me when you’re too tired to train, because this guy’s got no sympathy for you.” Turning deftly on his heel, he walked over to the cafeteria wing, but not before yelling over his shoulder: “Oh, and you’ll want to stack the cards behind the west side of the tree. It’ll block the wind.”

 

“Thanks Mr. Aizawa!”




He needed some coffee.



Chapter Text

“You don’t know what your quirk is?” Ragdoll gave Midoriya a quizzical look, voice nearly drowned out by the cacophony of noises behind them as everyone participated in their training, which was beginning to resemble less of a training camp and more of some sort of torture boot camp of sorts.

 

“Yeah… I mean, it’s got something to do with technology and also a bunch of other weird stuff like blowing stuff up and maybe dreams I dunno it’s just a clusterfuck of different applications at this point.” Midoriya blurted out, face becoming progressively more red as he talked. Ragdoll smiled, unphased by his rambling.

 

“How’d you get in UA in the first place?” She asked, sitting down on the grass next to him.

 

“Well - for the entrance exam my quirk went haywire and somehow that got me in, but for the rest of the stuff I’ve been using this.” He tapped his head twice. “The only tools I’ve got right now are my brains and my legs, so you know. It’s been a blast.”

 

“Wow.” Ragdoll sighed. “You’re pretty sharp.”

 

“Not really. Humans aren’t very sharp - unless we’re talking about fingernails or something -”

 

“It’s just an expression.” Ragdoll laughed. She stood thoughtfully for a second, seemingly spacing out, thinking.

 

“How about this.” She said finally. “It’s obvious you need to work on your psychical skills - but for now, let’s try some meditation.”

 

“Meditation?” Midoriya was confused. Didn’t only monks meditate?

 

“Yes. I often do that to help with my quirk - it’s a good tactic for focus. I what I think you need is focus.” Ragdoll started pacing in a circle, bright eyes never leaving his face. “Because you can use your quirk - just not on command. These things can take a while to perfect, and require a ton of focus.” She stopped standing directly behind him. “For example, my quirk, I didn’t perfect it until I was twenty three.”

 

“Twenty three?” That was awfully old to perfect a quirk.

 

“Yes. I entered the hero industry not by going to a school - but by simply perfecting my quirk - and well, a bit of help from Mandalay.” Ragdoll admitted. “And I have no doubt that you can to with some practice.”

 

“Oh.” Well, that advice was alright. Midoriya wasn’t too keen on sitting still for like, seven hours or however long they were supposed to be out here, but whatever. “I’ll try. How do I meditate?”

 

“Well, do whatever works best for you.” Ragdoll sat back down next to him, legs crossed. “But what I usually do is just try and clear my mind, and breathe deeply.”

 

“Hm.” While the advice was vague, it was a start. “So -”

 

“Close your eyes.” Midoriya complied. “Take a breath in for four.” He did, inhaling the scents of the clearing, smoke and nitroglycerin stinging on his tongue in a faintly pleasant way. “And hold for three.” His lungs didn’t really like the holding part, but it slowly started to adjust. “And out for five.” Midoriya breathed out through his mouth, air swishing between his teeth, feeling his shoulders relax. “That usually is a good start. So try and clear your mind, and just relax.”

 

“Relax.” Relax.

 

Relax.

 

He could do that, right?

 

The darkness behind his eyelids was unbearable, feeling like a gag around his very being. Midoriya never really liked the dark. Whenever he closed his eyes, it was always a sobering reminder of just how dark the world is, in a weird way.

 

In the back of his mind, he felt Ragdoll stand up, walking over to presumably check on someone else. But even the close sounds of the grass and the large bursts of fire faded away, leaving nothing but darkness and the empty.

 

Midoriya felt someone touch his shoulder, the contact causing him to jump, still not opening his eyes. And a voice, familiar and rough sounding.

 

My hands - they feel like they’re gonna fuckin fall off. Everything hurts -

 

A flicker of shame, pity, and anger.

 

Midoriya turned his mind elsewhere, the hand on his shoulder steering him away from the rough patch of anger and hate. Instead, he felt something colder.

 

So cold.

 

This is fine. This is easy -

 

A pause, the frosty sheets of self-loathing receding for a minute in surprise.

 

Why is he looking at me? Did I - is he catching on? Maybe it was what I said to him last night - totally out of left field. Christ, I’m such an idiot.

 

Midoriya could feel himself dripping in someone else's self-pity and hatred, knowing if he flexed his fingers, the goopy stuff would drip, sliding off into the grass, and make a mess.

 

The black empty space was flooded with voices, with sensations and feelings.

 

What was going on?


You see all this? The hand on his shoulder tightened, a small voice behind him speaking.

 

They’re all so broken. You’re the only one who can comprehend that.

 

Nails, claws, cutting crescents into his back.

 

You’re better. Be better.


Someone hit Midoriya in the face, eyes flying open with a jolt, to see Mandalay and Ragdoll looking at him. “Midoriya, are you okay?” Ragdoll asked.

 

“W - what happened?” Midoriya mumbled, sitting up. Somehow, while he was meditating, he had slumped over onto the ground. “Did I - is everyone else okay?”

 

“What were you doing?” Mandalay grabbed him by the shoulders. “Never do that again, hear me?”

 

“I - do what?”

 

“Midoriya -” Ragdoll shifted her feet in the ground, kicking up dust. “You were sending out waves if pure fear. Everyone almost had a panic attack - myself included.”

 

“Oh.” He wasn’t trying to do that - it was an accident.

 

“Midoriya, you never told me you were an empath.” Ragdoll said, head tilting, not blinking.

“I - I didn't know.” Was this why he made everyone so uneasy? It made sense. “I’m sorry.”

 

Mandalay sighed, walking off. Ragdoll gave him a sympathetic smile, pulling him to his feet. “Okay Mr scary guy, let’s do some sparing now. A lot less chance of freaking everyone out.”





 

 

 

 

 

However, despite everyone recovering almost instantly from their waves of panic, one did not.

 

Bakugou attempted to control his breathing over the vat of boiling liquid, hands scalded, but he was sweating for a different reason then the heat.

 

He - he was -

 

Somehow, he had felt the unmistakable sense that Midoriya was inside his brain.

 

And that wasn’t a good thing.

 

What did he see? There were a lot of things in Bakugou’s mind that he didn't want anyone to know, especially - what was he going to do?

 

Bakugou slid down, forehead pressed against the heat of the meta vat, too freaked out to care.

 

What was Midoriya trying to do?

 

“Hey.” Bakugou whirled around to see the boy himself, standing there, arms crossed. “What’s eating you?”

 

“N - nothing.” Bakugou shot back hastily. Midoriya cocked an eyebrow. “Go back to training.”

 

“You seem concerned.”

 

“I am, concerned that you’re not giving me space.” Bakugou clenched his shaking fists, channeling his usual anger and bravado. “Go away asswipe.”

 

Midoriya didn’t. Instead, he laughed.

 

“You have to be the most emotionally constipated person I’ve ever met.” He snarked. Bakugou felt the back of his neck flush red -

 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t snoop around in my head then!”




Suddenly, he blinked, leaning over the rim of the vat, steam clouding his vision. Across the field, he could see Midoriya sparring with Ragdoll, hasty kicks being corrected.

 

...What was i just doing?









 

 

 

After a long and arduous dinner preparing, the students of Class 1-A finally sat down to eat.

 

“I’m literally dying.” Bakugou exclaimed, flopping down dramatically between Momo and Midoriya. Momo laughed. Midoriya did not, too busy thinking about what had happened earlier.

 

Was I sensing people’s emotions? Reading their… minds?

 

“Hey hey hey, what are you doing tits?” Bakugou snapped, as Momo had started to mess with his hair.

 

“Sorry - it’s just so poofy.” Momo said, words slurred by the curry in her mouth.

 

‘What do you think I am, a dog? Quit it.” Momo gave him the doe eyes, and he relented, letting the taller girl stroke his hair.

 

Midoriya pulled his knees to his chest, watching Kota climb up a rocky mountainside, and into a hole. He suddenly wasn’t  hungry anymore.







The ‘test of courage’ turned out to be 1-B scaring 1-A in a forest by using their quirks, which thankfully, meant that Midoriya was probably in the clear, as he was pretty much immune to jump scares, his middle school years conditioning him to people jumping out of corners and attack and stuff.

 

Momo, however, wasn’t as lucky. The poor girl’s legs were shaking, as her eyes darted back and forth between trees.

 

“Hey Momo - you know we’re not in any actual danger, right?” Momo nodded, lips pressed tightly together.

 

“I know - I’m just… gah, I hate scary stuff.” She mumbled.

 

“Why do you hang out with me then-” Midoriya stopped, seeing Momo hold her hand up.


“Momo…?”




“That’s smoke.”



Momo pointed to smoke over the horizon, looming over them. “Give me a boost, I need to see what’s happening.”

 

Midoriya obliged, helping her climb up the branches of a sycamore tree.


Momo’s face fell.











“Fire.” She breathed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“And villains.”

Chapter Text

Saying that Bakugou was having a panic attack wouldn't be doing justice to the sheer amount of terror and fear coursing through his veins at that very moment. The smoke clogged his lungs, choking him, and created a cloud, so that he couldn’t see anything.


He was completely alone in a forest full of villains.

 

Todoroki had already ran off to god-knows-where, leaving him behind to fend for himself. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t kill something he couldn’t see -





Midoriya and Momo.



A stab of panic shot threw his heart.



They’re out there right in the middle of it.


Oh shit oh shit oh fuck fuck fuck FUCK-




Bakugou blasted himself over the trees, ignoring the whipping branches and stinging pain in his wrists from all the training. He had no time to lose.

 

His friends were out there, and if his suspicions were right, he was too late and they were already dead.













“Midoriya!” A red and white blur shot out of the shadows, nearly running into him. It was Todoroki, who was covered in burn marks, but looking otherwise unharmed.

 

“Todo-”

 

“The kid.” Skidding in front of their path, he stopped both of them dead in their tracks, Momo nearly falling. “Kota - he’s up on the mountain.”

 

“WHAT?” Midoriya cried as Momo gasped. “Did you -”

 

“The enterince is over there - we need to get him, now.” The urgency and volume in Todoroki’s voice was out of character for him, hard and cold. Midoriya swallowed.

 

“Lead me to him.” Momo interjected. Todoroki nodded, boots kicking up dust as he lead them the other way.


Away from the camp and safety.


In hindsight, they should have known better.








 

 

 

“Bakugou!” Ojiro lunged out of the shadows, carrying an injured Shouji behind him. “H - help -”

 

He collapsed, blood spurting out of his mouth. Shouji, who was still lucid, crossed the distance. “It’s Tokoyami.” He huffed, ignoring the bleeding stump that was one of his six arms. “He - he’s gone berserk mode.”

 

The loud inhuman roar in the distance attested to that. Bakugou paled, remembering how he beat the bird boy in the sports festival.

 

“His weakness is -”

 

“Light. And Kaminari - I don’t know where he is, Tokoyami going to destroy the whole forest -”

 

“Say no more.” Bakugou shot off in the other direction, heart in his throat at the prospect of facing a ginormous beast all by himself.


Relax.


The thought entered and exited his mind almost as quickly as it came.


Intake your surroundings, and think of a plan. Look for a new angle.

 

Bakugou took a deep breath, smoke tickling the back of his throat.

 

Focus. Right.








 

 

 

 

The small hole Kota had discovered had pillows, comic books and chip bags littered all throughout it, christmas lights strung, unlit on the top. While in normal circumstances it may have been cheerful and cozy, but with the added smoke fogging up everyone’s vision and the rumbling all around them, the atmosphere was tense as a violin string.

 

“Todoroki, where did you last -” Momo was cut off by the dual-haired teen pulling a knife out from the folds of his jacket, and holding it up to her throat. Momo jumped, and Midoriya screamed.

 

“TODOROKI, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING-” Momo was cut off by the hand pinning her to the wall dissolving, skin sloughing off into mud. Momo shrieked, but Midoriya didn’t move, frozen, static in his head reaching a crescendo -


And someone grabbed him from the behind, a large arm hauling him out. Midoriya scrabbled for a foothold, all static in his mind silenced. The goopy figure restraining Momo turned to grin at him, their wide smile boasting canine teeth, amused by the show in front of them.

 

It was over in an instant, Midoriya thrown onto the cliff plateau, at the feet of the small boy. Kota’s eyes were wide and frightened, hands shaking.

 

“I guess the hostage plan did work!” A high, reedy girl’s voice echoed out of the cave, followed by a petite girl dragging Momo’s unconscious body behind her. “Who knew the famous Izuchan would be so gullible?” The threat carried a bit of a sensual purr in it, causing Midoriya to gag internally. “Wow, your blood is so pretty!” She giggled, gesturing to the cut on Midoriya’s face.

 

He swiveled on his heel, blocking the young child from the muscular giant and the insane girl in front of him. “L - leave us alone!” he cried weakly. “We didn’t do anything!”

 

“Dumbass.” The man spoke up finally, voice rough from years of screaming. “You really think just pleading with us is gonna get us to stop? Oh, stop you big scary man! Oh well, since you asked so nicely -”



He was cut off by a gunshot.



The girl holding Momo screeched in pain, holding her leg. “MY LEG!” She shrieked, blood seeping between her fingers. Momo smirked, but it was wobbly.

 

“Next time, quit your monologuing.” She snarled, before leaping up, grabbing Kota by the waist, hauling him over her shoulder, and leaping - fucking leaping - off the plateau ledge and into the forest below.

 

“What are you doing?!” The man hissed. “Go after her!”

 

“I can’t - walk!” The girl hissed out through gritted teeth. Midoriya then realized what he had to do, and before he could think about it, he grabbed the girl by the hair, and with every ounce of strength in his body, threw her off the cliff and into the forest below.

 

And unlike Momo, there was a sound when she landed.





A sickening crunch.





 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah, okay, fuck focusing, he was going to die.

 

Bakugou stared up at the looming monster face above him, twisted proportions and shadowy limbs gargantuan, barley even resembling his classmate. He gulped.


Bakugou. ” The monster hissed, voice scrambled. “ ...Hurt?”

 

“No! No - don’t hurt. Don’t hurt me. I - you have to stop.” He exclaimed, attempting to quell the panic that was seeping into his tone. “Tokoyami -”


“DARK SHADOW!” The monster - Dark Shadow - raised a ginormous swirling wing, and brought it down, Bakugou rolling out of the way just in time. Dark Shadow tried to advance, but Bakugou let off a glowing explosion, sending the monster screeching backwards.


“D - Dark Shadow, please.” At this point, he stopped trying to control his panic, letting it show, hoping the raw emotion would reach the beast. “You’re going to kill all of us!”

 

Don’t care.” Dark Shadow hissed.

 

“You should! I mean - you’d lose a lot a good people if you killed them.”


They let Ojiro get hurt!” For the first time, Bakugou saw what Dark Shadow was blocking from him.


A mangled corpse, green fabric ripped to shreds.



“It wasn’t their fault, it was the villains!” He cried out. “Dark Shadow please. We need your help, but - not like this.”


The monster froze, beak level with Bakugou.


...Friend?



Bakugou rolled his eyes, but stood his ground, unwavering.


“Yeah. I’m a friend.”



And slowly, the shadows surrounding the boy began to recede, twisting away into nothing, until only Tokoyami, curled up in the fetal position, was left, hands over his head.


“Shit - Tokoyami!” Bakugou ran over to him, careful not to get too close. “Dude, are you okay?”


Tokoyami was softly crying, hands shaking so much that Bakugou could swear he heard his bones rattling.


“I killed him.” He whispered. “I killed that man.”



Bakugou knew that. That’s what he had been afraid of.












 

 

“You…” Muscular stared over the ledge, eyes scanning the foliage for any trace of his ally. “You just killed her. You straight up killed her.”


Midoriya froze. He had?


How far up were they?





Then, the man began to laugh, an insane, crackly sound. “FINALLY, A WORTHY OPPONENT!” He chortled, eyes gleaming with a manic victory. “It’s been a long time since I’ve found anyone as vicious as myself. Our battle will be -”



Midoriya cut him off by throwing a rock at his head. It didn’t do anything but shut him up, which, thankfully, was what it was primarily intended for.


The man glowered at him. “Enough talk, little boy.” He growled. “My name is Muscular. And these -” He raised a fist into the air, muscle fibers sprouting around it, “Are the last sixty seconds of your life.”













 

 

“HEY!” Behind his shoulder, Bakugou heard someone yell, the sounds of scraping leaves and someone dragging themselves echoing over the otherwise silent clearing. It was Momo, right leg twisted and battered, the young boy - Kouda? Dragging her out. “Oh my god, are you guys?”

 

“We're fine,” Said an obviously panicked Bakugou guarding an emotionally scarred bird man behind him, both clearly not fine. “The fuck happened to you?”

 

“Jumped off a cliff.” She huffed, as she hobbled up. “Saved this guy - Midoriya’s still up there.”

 

“WHAT?” Bakugou yelled, twisting around to look at her. “How many people were up there?”

 

“Two - but I shot one. And I think she fell off as well.” Momo said, ignoring her bleeding limb. “I need to get back to -”

 

“You just left him up there?” Bakugou hissed, panic boiling into fury at Momo’s careless actions. “How could you do that, he’s -”

 

‘HE’LL BE FINE, NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET US BACK TO CAMP ALREADY!!” Momo screamed.


Bakugou stumbled back, surprised at her harsh tone.


Of course. Her legs probably broken beyond repair, it’s a wonder she’s even still standing. Not to mention the kid…


“Ok.” He mumbled, cowed into submission. “Tokoyami, do you think -”


“Already on it.” Tokoyami scooped up the small child, eyes wide open, frozen in the bird boy’s arms. “Momo, get on Bakugou’s back.” Bakugou obliged, letting the tallest girl struggle to get a foothold. Once everyone was settled, they started their frantic run back.



Please Izuku, please, please be safe -












 

 

The first punch hurt about as much as he expected it to, AKA, a lot.


Midoriya flew back a few feet, stomach turning with red hot pain. He staggered to the ground, cheeks meeting sharp gravel below.

 

“C’mon, is that all you got?” Muscular taunted. “Where’s the power that the portal cunt was so afraid of?”

 

The words spur him back into action, Midoriya staggering to stand up. He flew forward with a primal scream, only for Muscular to catch his right forearm, lifting him a few feet off the ground.

 

“All talk and no bite, eh?” Muscular growled. “Should’a figured you were just another sellout.”


And with a mighty grunt, threw Midoriya off the cliff.











 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ah.


I suppose that’s unfortunate.

 

Can’t have that happening, can we.

 

Though, I suppose… if One’s gone… then the Puzzle will be missing a piece.

 

Would I be… okay with that?










no

 

I’m not okay with that.



And we didn’t come this far to give up.













 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Muscular felt the anger fading just slightly from his veins. He groaned, knowing that he hadn’t satisfyed his thirst for blood and death yet. While the bossman wanted the child, he didn’t specify alive or dead.

 

Ah, fuck it. He’d live.




Crack





Muscular turned, to see a hand clutching onto the cliffside for dear life, hands creating indents in the rocky floor. He blinked, then recognized the person the hand belonged to.

 

“You live?” He guffawed. “Now it looks like it’s getting interesting!”








“Shut up.”





The cold tone stopped Muscular in his tracks, his rage pausing for a split second, drowned out by an icy, all-encompassing feeling. One he didn’t recognize.




“What.” He breathed. No one ever interrupted him, if they wanted to live anyways. “You dare -”


“I said SHUT UP!” The red rimming his vision was gone, quenched by an icy chill. Muscular watched in shock as the child hauled himself up, limbs stretching to inhuman proportions to hoist him up. Eyes swirling pits of nothingness.



“You act as if you’re above me.” The child hissed, the clenching and unclenching of his fists matching muscular erratic heartbeat. “You act as if you have any right to even breathe!”


I can’t be afraid! I’ve never been afraid before! I rip apart anyone who comes in my way!


“You,” The thing wearing the child’s face hissed, “You’re a monster, the scum beneath my show. You call yourself a human?! You are no better than the demons that lurk in the shadows just below you, claws grasping at your feet.”


Something brushed his heel, and Muscular jumped backwards, kicking up dust as he retreated. Knowing nothing but the being in front of him, and the terrifying aura he resonated.


“One day, you’ll have to face the powers that be, and justify the space you’ve filled.” It hissed, revealing a gaping hole for a mouth. “And what then, Muscular?” The name isn’t it addressing him. It’s a threat. “What then?”

 

“Ge - Get away from me!”

 

“You’re nothing but another human filled with senseless violence.” It hissed, advancing to match Muscular retreat. “Another face in the crowd.”

 

“I - I -”


“Who are you?”



Muscular face became unrecognizable, voice jittery and monotone. One you’d forget or confuse with someone elses the minute he left.


And then he fell.








He didn’t even hit the ground, stomach being pierced by the trunk of a half burnt pine tree, burned branches having sharpened it to a point. Acrid stomach fluid mixed with blood spilled out, painting the tree red and yellow, tubers twisting and punctuating with sickening splats, Muscular crying and screaming all the while.


After a long time, or no time at all, he stilled, all life bled out of him.






Midoriya smiled -








Then nothing.


















 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Nice shot.” Compress said to Mustard, the small boy peeking through the tranquilizer dart scope. “I’ll bubble him and we’ll take him back to the base.”


Mustard smiled proudly.




 

 

 

 

 

 

“The boss will be pleased that we finally have him.”






Chapter Text

The building’s clearing was alive with activity. Vlad King was frantically taking a headcount, the kids were huddled in a panic, and two of the Pussycats were busy tending to the wounds of -

 

“Todoroki!” Bakugou rushed over to the boy, who was bleeding profusely from the neck. “What the fuck happened?!”

 

“One of… the girl. She got me -” Todoroki coughed, blood dribbling from his lips. Mandalay and Tiger frantically scrambled for stitches.

 

“Stay awake Todoroki,” Mandalay ordered, voice shaking. “You’re not dying on us.”

 

Momo had just about reached her limit, collapsing onto the grass. “The police -” She huffed, tone muffled by the ground below her. “Are they -”

 

“They’ll be here any minute.” Aizawa replied. “Wait - where’s Midoriya.”



The clearing went silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire in the distance.




“He….”

 

Everyone turned to Kota, eyes red rimmed and watery, bottom lip trembling.




“He got me away from one of the villains.”



A horrified silence.




“Is he…?” Aizawa asked in a hushed tone.

 

“Last I saw him he was fighting a villain.” Momo mumbled. “The muscular one. Alone.”

 

“How could you just leave him?!” Aizawa yelled, eyes flaring red. “You know he couldn’t handle it alone Yaoyorozu!” Momo was trembling in the grass, tears running silently down her face. “Now he’s - he’s probably -” Aizawa swiveled around to hide his face. “Fuck.”




No one moved.





“...He’s probably dead, isn't he.” Ojiro mumbled. Aizawa slowly nodded.








“I disagree.”








Everyone looked up to see -




“You give up on a student so easily?” Compress laughed. “Really, you are quite pathetic excuses for heroes.”

 

“You -” Aizawa charged forward, but Vlad held him back, Compress laughing at their struggle all the while.



“True, he may somehow have disposed of my colleague, but he’s not invincible.” Compress held up a small blue marble in a gloved hand. “And if you want him back -”



“NO!” Bakugou lunged forward, blasting himself off the ground, up to the treetops where Compress stood -





“You’ll have to find him first.”






Shadows flashed underneath the villain’s feet, and he was gone.


























Momo didn’t really remember much of what happened after that.  The police and firemen came, along with the ambulances. They were picked up, Momo wheeled into an intensive care unit. A lot of doctors shouting. A hazy surgery.





My fault.





Laying in a hospital bed, half - conscious, hopped up on painkillers, Momo had to face the inevitable fact that she left Midoriya to die.





You idiot!




This wasn’t what - everything had gone wrong. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! Midoriya was supposed to be strong - strong enough to beat anyone.

 

So why?



Why did he fail the one time Momo needed him not to?






 

 










 

 

 

“Hey.” Todoroki looked up from his phone to see Fuyumi standing in the hospital room’s door. “How are you?”



“Fine,” Todoroki put his phone down, careful not to aggravate the stitching in his neck. “My whole body feels like one giant bruise - especially my neck, but other then that -”



“You know it wasn’t your fault, right.”

 

The soft wording caught Todoroki off guard, his sister coming to sit on the end of his cot. Her eyes were filled with pity, but Todoroki didn’t want to look. He really didn’t deserve it.



“If I had been more vigilant, then that girl wouldn’t have lured Midoriya away. He wouldn’t have been -” His throat caught, and he blinked rapidly. “He wouldn’t have been killed.”

 

“Shouto,” Fuyumi put her hand on his shoulder, watching Todoroki’s silent sobs with pity. “We don’t know that -”

 

“Stop - stop being so naive!” Todoroki cried out, ignoring the flaring pain in his neck. “They’d have no reason to keep him. They - he’s gone, Fumi.” Todoroki’s voice dropped to a rasp, feeling hot tears cool on his face. “He’s gone - gone. Gone.”



She didn’t say anything for a minute, simply watching him as he broke down.



Why was he so upset?







Well, it should be obvious. He helped you. And you threw away his life because you’re a failure.




That wasn’t the real Midoriya though.






Who cares?






“Shouto?” Fuyumi stood, eyes still following him. “Do you - need a minute?”

 

“...yeah.” He mumbled. “I do.”





She nodded, turning to leave, but stopping at the door.

 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled. “That must have been awful.”



Todoroki nodded, the familiar words echoing in his mind.




















“What do we do?” Yamada asked, eyes scanning the table, ten notable heroes gathered in the conference room.

 

“Midoriya Izuku is missing, and we have no lead to where he is.” Aizawa replied. “No paths, no clues, nothing.” The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife, stretched tight like a violin string. “For all we know, he could be dead.”

 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Edgeshot muttered. “But he probably is.”



No one agreed with him.



But no one disagreed with him either.



 

 

 

 

 

 

And that worried Aizawa the most.








Chapter Text

Everything hurt.

 

 

 


His vision swam, lights and voices all melting together like a ruined watercolor painting.

 

 

 

 

Where was he?

 

 

 

 

He didn't know. Frankly, he didn't care. He could stay like this forever for all he cared, the swimming feeling better then whatever was waiting for him outside his small technicolored bubble of vision.

 

 

 

 

 

But alas, against his will, his vision started to clear, places and names coming into focus in his mind’s eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 







 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Midoriya awoke with a sharp jolt, his lunge forward held back by tight bonds wrapped around his chest, constricting his breathing. Tears overflowed his vision as he struggled and panted, trying desperately to break the bonds keeping him from running away and curling into a ball to die -



 

 

 

 

 

“So, you’re finally awake.”



 

 

 

 

 

 

Midoriya turned, to see a man made entirely of smoke, adorned in a fancy suit and tie, polishing a wine glass at the counter nonchalantly. His yellow eyes bored into Midoriya’s skull, leaving a trail of hot panic wherever they darted. “You were quite hard to catch, you know that?”




 

 

 

Midoriya didn’t move, frozen in fear, weighing his options. He couldn’t use his quirk, as the quirk suppressing cuffs were wrapped tightly around his hands, and he was tied to a chair, his limited physical ability making it night impossible for him to break out. He vaguely remembered reading a book on how to escape things by an american author named Houdini, but any useful information slipped his mind.

 

 

 

 

“You’re mumbling.” The man remarked, Midoriya clamping down so fast he bit his tongue and drew blood. “Nervous?”


“Wh - why didn’t you kill me?” He hated the tremor in his voice, betraying his terror.


The man smiled - or what passed for a smile when you didn’t have any facial features.


“Do you know what you did?”




 

 

 

The shaded figure seated a familiar object down on the counter, reeking of chemicals and preservative oils. Bloody memories always lurking at the corner of Midoriya’s mind started to seep through the cracks, phantom pained screeches echoing in his ears.


 

 

“You killed our leader.” The figure said, waving the severed hand that Shigaraki once wore in Midoriya’s face. “Heroes had been trying to track him down and do that for almost a decade - and then you, a small weak child, killed him in one shot.”


 

“It - it was an accident!” Midoriya cried out, the familiar prickling at the edge of his eyes betraying how torn up he was. “I - I never meant to -”

 

 

“Not to mention after that, you single handedly took down a being designed for the sole purpose of not being killed. You, a fourteen year old boy.”


 

 

 

Midoriya didn’t respond, lump in his throat, silently mourning a man who had tried to kill him.


 

 

 

 

“You know why we brought you here, don’t you.”



 

 

Midoriya didn’t say anything, conversation becoming blurry and distorted, the familiar tingles of static creeping into the edges of his mind -



 

 

 

And then nothing.



 

 

 

 

 

It was as if something was holding his power back.







“Not so tough without your quirk, aren’t you.”



Midoriya didn’t respond. The man smirked, turning to a screen in the corner, playing audio only.


 

 

 

“May I bring him to you now Master?” He asked.



A broken, wretched voice echoed out from the other side of the monitor, despite not being present, bringing an aura of fear into the room.




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Yes.”
















 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Izuku Midoriya was an anomaly. That, Kurogiri knew.

 

 

He was no hero, that was for sure. No hero would outright kill a villain on sight the way Midoriya did. The only hero that Kurogiri could think of who would do that was Endeavor - and he was basically dead.

 

 

Inside the dark office of All For One - his master, the god of this world - the league waited. Compress, sitting in the back, Mustard, nervously fiddling with his pistol, Toga's dead body, lain on Dabi's lap, who was sitting on the floor, Spinner, peering at the boy, whose head was down, unresponsive, Mange, not paying attention at all, Twice, muttering to himself, and finally, All For One himself, dark imprints of eyes staring down the boy in front of him.


 

 

 

 

The room was silent. You could hear a pin drop.





 

 

 

 

“Izuku Midoriya.” For a man as gargantuan as he was, All For One’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “Look at me.”


 

 

 

 

 

 

The boy didn’t, seemingly dissociated.


 

 

 

 

Look at me.”


 

 

 

 

 

An invisible force jerked the boy’s head up, looking the man right in the eye. Midoriya’s eyes were glazed and unfocused. All For One smiled sadly, taking in his appearance.


 

 

 

“You are a child.” Midoriya twitched a bit, the faintest sign of recognition. “And yet, the heroes have already made you endure so much. You killed for them.”

 

 

“A...accident -” He murmured. All For One didn’t react.

 

 

 

 

 

“No matter what you say, you’re still a murderer.”



 

 

 

 

The boy flinched at that word.



“They’ll never accept you. They already don’t, do they? You’ve been branded as a freak, a monster.”


Midoriya was still silent.


“I won’t do that to you. Aren’t you tired of all the slander? You could help us build a better world.”



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a full minute before anyone spoke.



And it wasn’t who anyone was expecting.







 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“That’s a load of bullshit.” All heads darted to Midoriya, leaning on the corner of the shadowy office, ringed moss-green eyes narrowed in fury. “You expect me to believe any of that? You’re a murder as well, idiot.”


 

 

 

 

 

 

All heads turned back to the chair, Midoriya still slumped in it, unresponsive.


 

 

“He - he has quirk suppressing cuffs -” Compress stammered, at a loss for words.


 

 

 

“You underestimated me.” Another Midoriya stood behind Kurogiri, in front of everyone in the room, this one’s eyes cold and devoid of emotion. “You believed I’d follow any of your rules in here.”



All For One’s usual intimidating aura was wiped out by something else - something stronger, the whole room tinting a sickly shade of green.








 

 

 

 

 

 

Fear was an emotion that All For One hadn’t felt in a long time.


But he could feel it now.









 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“...stop it.” The chained boy’s tiny voice somehow carried, causing all the panic in the room to cease. The two doppelgangers turned to look at the small child -










“STOP IT!” His scream was primal, terrified and furious, a guttural scream that had to have hurt him. “STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The aura of fear vanished.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The two other Midoriya's were gone.
























Dabi was the first to recover. “What… was that?” He murmured. All heads swiveled to All For One for an answer, who looked deep in thought.


“Check his vitals.” He ordered after a while. Everyone looked at each other apprehensively, no one wanting to get near the boy. Mange ended up being the one to step forward, tentatively placing a finger on the boy’s pulse point.


“He’s alive - but unconscious. I think all the panic knocked him out.” Mange said. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, that the nightmare child was no longer with them.


“Kurogiri, take him back to the holding area.” Kurogiri nodded, swishing away with a wave of his hand.




“Hey… what now?” Mustard asked quietly.



All For One smiled.




 

 

 

 

 

“I think we may have found our trump card.”  

Chapter Text

The wasps outside his bedroom were in full activity, buzzing under the full moon. The familiar noise filling his ears.


 

 

 

 

 

 

“Katsuki?”


A knock at his bedroom door.


“I have food.”


 

 

He didn’t answer, curling up further into a ball under the covers.


 

 

 

“Do you… want to talk about it?”


Still no response.




Bakugou could hear a sigh through the other side of the door, followed by the trudging of feet down the hallway and feet clomping down stairs.


Then, silence.








 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How could I have messed up this badly?





Lunging forward at the masked man -


Shadows whisking him away -


And falling -


Falling -


Falling -






 

 

 

Why couldn’t he have been faster?




 

 

 

Bakugou vaguely registered his hands sizzling, burning hand print shaped indents into his sheets, but he didn’t really care. As far as he cared, the whole world could burn, and he’d just lay there and let his skin melt off.



“It takes seven hours for the human body to burn completely - you sure you want to follow through on this?”


He was.




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wait.





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bakugou shot up to see a familiar figure leaning against the door.







His heart leapt into his throat.





“I - Izuku?”



“You don’t remember me?” Midoriya’s head tilted in mocking confusion. “That’s rude. And here I thought we were friends.”

 

“What?” What the fuck was he talking about. “Midoriya, I -”




“Three.” A warning tone issued from the windowsill, and Bakugou swiveled to see another Midoriya, perched on top of it. “We’re on the top layer. He doesn’t remember us.”



“What?” Now Bakugou was just confused.



“Wait -” Something dawned on him, a long - forgotten conversation in a cafe shoved to the edges of his mind. “You’re the dopplegangers. The shapeshifters.”




 

 

 

Silence.



 

 

 

 

 

Then, the Midoriya by the wall - Three - burst out laughing, doubled over on himself, laughter manic and scratchy. Bakugou stared in horror at the person in front of him, wearing his friend’s face.

 

 

 

“Shapeshifters?” Midoriya - not - Midoriya cackled out, tears in his eyes. “Seriously? That’s the conclusion you came to?!”


“Don’t fucking mock me!” Bakugou burst out, his suprise and fear at seeing his kidnapped friend overtaken by a familiar anger.


 

 

Then, Midoriya - not Midoriya leaned in close, intense ringed green eyes boring a hole straight through his skull. Bakugou drew back, pressing up against the wall.


“Let me jog your memory.” He placed three fingers on his forehead, and -













 

 

 

 

 

Everything.




 

 

 

 

And nothing.








 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bakugou must have whited out for a second, because when he came to, he was laying down on his bed, Three sitting next to him, staring in concern.


“T - Three?” The memories of what had happened during the nights of the past few months filling every crevice of his mind. “It’s - what the fuck are you doing here?”

 

 

“Oh good, you do remember me.” Three said. “We don’t have much time - and we need your help.”

 

“You need his help,” Five remarked from the corner, deadpan as always. “Don’t lump me together with you and your crazy ideas.”

 

“Shut your mouth before I do it for you.” Three hissed, giving Five a look so lethal that anyone else less ballsy would have burst into flames.


 

“We need to go save One.”


 

Bakugou blinked, phrase not really registering with him.

 

 

 

 

“What?”


“You heard him.” Five said. “That bit we agree on. And we need help.”


Bakugou looked from Five to Three in confusion. “Wait - but -”



 

 

 

 

 

“I need your body.”


 

 

 

 

The casual phrashing of that strange statement caught Bakugou off guard, him backing further into the wall. “WHAT?!” He exclaimed, half angry at the request and half petrified. “Nonono, you can’t do that!”

 

“Why not?” Three tilted his head in confusion. “Have something to hide Katsuki?”

 

“NO! But - fuck, isn't there another way? Why can’t you just posses a villain or something?”

 

“Using someone else's body works better when the recipient is willing. And not to mention, All For One has a quirk that can sense brain activity. The sudden ceasing of one of his members thoughts - who are all probably heavily monitored - would be dead giveaway.”

 

 

 

“Then tell One!” Bakugou exclaimed. “Can’t you like - teach him the ways of this Quirk so he can just break himself out -”




“You don’t understand.” Three grabbed his shoulders in an iron grip, and pulled him close, eyes swirling, tone serious and colder than he had ever heard it. “The more One uses his power, the more his soul - his essence - splits off. Why do you think we’re here?”

 

Three’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “The more he fractures, the less of him there is. And right now, he’s fractured so much, that there’s hardly anything left but anger and fear. And mark my words -” Three let some of that carefully controlled insanity seep into his tone, Bakugou paling. “If he found out about the truth - the one which no one knows - then mark my words, he would kill us all.



Bakugou drew a breath in from between his teeth.


“And don’t think you’re immune because you’re his friend. Friends mean nothing to those above everything.”




They locked stares for a minute, neither party looking away. The only sound was the frantic buzzing of the wasps outside.




Finally, Bakugou broke eye contact, twisting his knuckles in his grip. “Midoriya wouldn’t do that.” He mumbled. “There’s too much good in him.”

 

“We are that good.” Three replied. “It’s still there, just in pieces.”


“HE WOULDN’T FUCKING DO THAT!!” Bakugou yelled, tearing away from Three’s grasp.





You could hear a pin drop in the guttral silence.




“...Please.” Bakugou looked up from his lap, finally making eye contact, Three’s tone softer then he had ever heard it. “Please, just do this for us, and I promise you’ll never have to hear from me again. We’ll be out of your hair.”



Bakugou considered it.










“You know where he is?” He mumbled finally.



Three smiled, for once kind and full of relief.




“We are him after all, Katsuki.” Three replied.



“Twenty minutes. Then get out.” Bakugou relented.




Three’s smile turned dark.




And Bakugou knew he had made a mistake.

























 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You coming?” Five turned to look at Three, now inhabiting Bakugou’s body, looking at it in some sort of morbid fascination.

 

“Five, look.” Three stood, running over to windowsill. “His waist is so tiny!”


“Gross.” Five mumbled, crinkling up his nose. “Now let’s go get One.”

Chapter Text

When he opened his eyes again, Bakugou had no idea where he was.



He was in front of an old decrepit building, a small trap door right beside him.

 

Behind him, he could hear Three catching his breath. He turned to ask if he was okay, then realized that it was probably better not to. Three was a wild card at best, and a ticking time bomb at worst. And one does not provoke the time bomb.



 

 

“I gotta hand it to you,” Three huffed out, consonants slurred from exhaustion. “You’re a fighter. ‘Could barely even stay in when all you wanted to do was get me out.”

 

“Who wouldn’t want you out.” Bakugou grumbled. Five, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, peered down at the two.



“Are you two done flirting?” Bakugou chose not to dignify that with a response, and Three flashed a thumbs up. “Good. Bakugou, you’ll have to get him out. We’re not corporeal, so we’ll be your eyes.”

 

“Sweet.” Bakugou quietly, as quietly as he could, sparked an explosion in his palm, bedding and melting the metal lock that bound the trapdoor tightly shut. Quickly, he hauled it open, the darkness below a looming void.

 

“You guys know what’s down there?”



But they were gone.




“Awesome.” Bakugou, ignoring all self-preservation instincts, jumped down into the black to save his friend.












 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Midoriya came to, to rough hands shaking him awake.



He wasn’t asleep, not in the traditional sense. He was just - spaced out. Wasn’t that called dissociation?

 

The hands shaking him by the shoulders tightened, a familiar voice echoing throughout the dark tunnel of his mind.



He didn’t want to go back to the light. Not when all that was waiting was more insanity, hallucinations, and villains. But then -






 

 

 

 

-Something hit his face, impact stinging more than it should have. Midoriya shot up quickly, straining against the chains holding him down. Someone grabbed his by the waist, steadying his frantic attempts to run, to hide, to claw his own eyes out.



“IZUKU, IT’S ME!” The familiar harsh tone jolted him back to his senses, and Midoriya looked up to see crimson red eyes, crinkled with panic and fear, staring right back at him.



“K - Kacchan?” Midoriya mumbled, voice slurred from disuse. “What -”

 

“I’m getting you out of here.” Midoriya instinctively flinched at the familiar popping sound, so accustomed to hearing that sound before he got beat up. Instead, the lock keeping him bound broke in two, chains falling slack around his waist. He looked up, Bakugou looking right at him.



“Are you okay?” He whispered. Midoriya noticed his hands were shaking.

 

“I -”



 

“Bakugou, we don’t have time for this.” A familiar, oh so familiar voice echoed out behind the taller boy, and Midoriya turned to see -





 

 

A hallucination. A trick of the light, of the mind.



That’s what he’d been telling himself. That his mind had reached its limit, and now he was slowly going insane.




 

 

 

 

But then





 

 

 

“Five, I know, I just -” Bakugou stopped, hearing Midoriya’s wet and harsh sniffles. “Oh fuck - you -”



“T - They’re real -” He spat out, saliva and bile clogging his throat. “I’m not going crazy-”

 

“Of course you’re not nerd, you always jump to the worst conclusions.” Bakugou rolled his eyes, and hoisted the smaller boy up. “Can you walk?”



“Yeah. I can.”



 

 

“Great.” His doppleganger - Five, ran over to them. “All For One knows we’re here. We don’t have much time, he’ll be here any minute now.”

 

“Got it.” The duo ran for the exit, swirling black hallways engulfing them as they ran through corridors and doors.

 

“You know your way around this place?” Bakugou asked.

 

“No!” Midoriya yelled back. “I’ve been stuck in a chair for a good three days -”






 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Izuku Midoriya.”





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The familiar soft tone stopped both dead in their tracks.




“And Bakugou Katsuki. I see you’ve decided to play the knight in shining armour.” Bakugou whirled around to see All For One standing behind them, relaxed, in no move to attack.




“You’re leaving so soon?”

 

“I am.” Midoriya spat. “You kidnapped me.”

 

“I’m trying to help you.” All For One replied gently. “I know what you are.”





“You do?”





“You’re like me.” All For One smiled - or what would have been a smile if he had a face. “A being, older than these people, trapped in a feeble body.” The tone was mockingly saccharine - pitying, almost. “Powerful.”





Midoriya scoffed.





“I’m nothing like you.”












The impact was so fast, Bakugou almost had no time to whirl around, shieling Midoriya from the brunt of All For One’s attack. Shaprenel pieced his back, and he felt himself flying, flying, falling -





The building had been decimated, rubbled scattered around in a circle. In the center, stood Midoriya, staring All For One down.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But then -





 

 

 

“This is pointless.” Five remarked, sitting on a rock. “There’s no meaning to this fight, except more carnage for you. You’ve lost your lungs, but it’ll get worse if you pursue this.”

 

“Idiot.” Three, standing behind All For One, looked bored and disinterested. “Do you really think you’re superior to all?”

 

“There’s nothing left in there,” Two said, face remarkably free of any tell-tale injuries. “No feelings, nothing. An empty shell.”

 

“A shell that can’t be filled.” Four for once wasn’t shaking. “You’re empty. Hollow. Your life holds no meaning.”

 

“Perhaps if you leave, you’ll find something.” Seven, shadows swirling around him in a menacing fashion, said, standing in front of All For One. “Something better to do.”




All For One took scan of the six children surrounding him, forming a circle. “Your manipulation tactics won’t work on me.” He laughed. “You can’t win. I am the strongest in the world. No human can beat me!”









 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Well.”





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All heads turned to a rotted, blistered claw, grasping on to a rock, pulling itself up, followed by a rotting torso, sand embedded into it’s skin, skeletal legs, and slimy, disgusting, poisoned blood dripping on to the ground, months of rotting in hot sand apparent. 



The face of the thing wearing Midoriya's rotted skull smiled, eyes falling out of it’s skull.






 

 

 

“Good thing I’m not human then.” Six said.






 

 

 

 

 

Red light burst from their bodies, twisting, transforming -







 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“DON’T LOOK!” A pair of hands threw themselves over Bakugou’s eyes, turning the whole world dark. Bakugou sputtered, his own hands clasped over his ears to block out the cacophony of noises assaulting his sense.

 

“If you do - it’s - you can’t.” Midoriya - his Midoriya, said, hands shaking around Bakugou’s eyes. “I can get you across, but you can’t look.”



“I - I can’t see though.” Bakugou said.



 

 

 

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you trust me to get you across safely?”













“Yes.”












 

 

And he slowly led Bakugou across, softly creeping to the tune of limbs ripping and screaming.












The minute they were across, Bakugou shoved Midoriya’s hands off his eyes, and they ran into the crowd. A red forcefield seemed to be protecting the area where All For One was, blotting out the scene that laid inside. Heroes and policeman alike pounded on the smooth surface, to no avail. But he hardly paid attention to that, too busy looking for a place to sit down. He then spotted a red phone booth, and he pulled the smaller boy inside.




The glass blocked out most noise. They were silent for a second.





Then, Midoriya completely broke down, falling to his knees in despair and panic, thick hot tears rolling down his face. He wrapped his arms around himself in a pitiful attempt to steady himself, shaking, shaking, shaking all the while -




Bakugou grabbed him, and pulled him tight, arms wrapped around the smaller boy’s shoulders, in an attempt to calm his panic attack. “You’re okay - it’s okay, you’re safe-”



They stayed like that for god knows how long, in blissful silence, the only sound Midoriya’s wet sobs.





Eventually, he calmed himself down enough to stop crying. “I -” He bit his lip, looking like he might start crying again. Bakugou didn’t say anything, but pulled the boy closer.






Someone knocked on the phone booth door. The duo jumped, Midoriya yelping and burying his face in Bakugou’s chest, and Bakugou turning to see -





“Momo?” Momo, dressed in a ridiculous costume, looked just as surprised to see Bakugou as Bakugou was to see her. Quickly, he opened the door, and she ran in, giving Midoriya the biggest hug known to man.

 

“Oh My God You're Okay- wait, Bakugou, what happened?”

 

“Long story.” Bakugou looked out to see Todoroki, Iida, and Ojiro, all in various states of bad disguises. “How’d you -”



“I planted a tracker on the girl who attacked us’s body. They dismantled it, but by then I knew where they were. We were going to rescue Midoriya, but then that shield thing popped up, and well - it doesn’t really matter, since he’s safe.”





Midoriya didn’t say anything, but Iida picked him up, bridal style. “He needs an ambulance.” Iida said matter of factly.



Everyone agreed, and turned to the police.

 

Bakugou took one last good look at the red shield, protecting the outside world from the horrors of what was inside.






And he was glad.

Chapter Text

He had seen many things. 

 

 

Death. Destruction. Toppling of cities and powerful people. 

 

 

 

But nothing like this had ever happened. 

 

 

 

 

He’d been bleeding out for so long. He was surprised there was even any blood left. 


When one becomes as powerful as he, they forget they can bleed sometimes. 

 


The thing leaned over him again, swirling pits for eyes empty. 

“I told you.” It said. He smiled. 

 

“You say I’m empty - but you’re no better.” He wheezed, something wet and slimy bubbling up and out of his lips. 

 

The thing still didn’t react. 

 

 

“Your rules don’t apply to me.” It said. “I’m not like you.” 

 


It wasn’t. He wished he’d known that before he ran off to this war. 

 

 

 

 

The red sky above shifted to the black stone of a cave, throne crawling out of the pools of blood he was lying in. 

 

 

 


So this… 

 

 

 

This was his atonement for the decades of chaos and bloodshed he’d caused. 

 

 


“Maybe some other time you could have avoided this.” It said. “But as it is, you’ve made your choice.” 

 

 

 

One of the many shadowy deformed bodies making up the throne grabbed him by the ankle. He didn’t scream or cry, simply accepting his fate. 

 

 

 


“I have.” He replied. 

 

 

 

 


And as he was dragged in, becoming another piece in the throne, he smiled for the first time, all toothless and rotted gums. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Have you?” 

Chapter Text

Bakugou, Momo, Todoroki, Iida, and Ojiro all waited nervously in the hospital lobby. Iida was twisting his knuckles, Momo was chewing on a strand of hair, and Ojiro was playing with his tail. The only two who weren’t showing any outwardly signs of being nervous, were Bakugou and Todoroki, but nevertheless, they still were.


Midoriya’s mom was still nowhere to be found.


The doctor entered the waiting room, and the group all jumped up in unison, pelting him with questions. The goat - headed man looked frazzled, and held a hand up to calm them down.


“Physically, he’s going to be fine.” He said. The group breathed a collective sigh of relief. “Mentally, however…”

 

“However what?!” Bakugou snapped. The doctor flinched.

 

“He’s been unresponsive to anyone, even our therapists. We don’t know what’s wrong quite yet, but it’s most likely shock leading to his dissociative state.”


No one moved. Then, Iida spoke up.

 

“...Will he ever wake up?” He mumbled. The doctor nodded.

 

“With time, he should, but I have no idea how long that can take. He’s been through something very traumatic.” The doctor looked around the spacious waiting room, square pupils narrowing. “Where is… his mother?”

 

“She’s working at another hospital.” Momo explained. “She wasn’t able to make it.”


The doctor said nothing, but simply sniffed, turning on his heel to leave.


No one knew what to say for a few seconds.


“Soooo… now what?” Todoroki asked.

 

“We wait.” Bakugou replied. “For him to snap out of it.”

 

“The doctor said he had no idea when he would wake up.” Ojiro responded. “We might be here for a while.”

 

“Well you guys can go home.” Bakugou responded. “I’m staying here.”

 

Iida and Ojiro looked at eachother. “I need to get home.” Ojiro mumbled. “My mom’s probably wondering where I am. I told her I was at Shinsou’s house, but -”

 

“I get it.” Bakugou interrupted. “Get your ass back to your house before you get grounded for a million years.”

 

Ojiro smiled a little, a crescent moon pulling on the side of his cheeks. “I think that’s him almost trying to be nice.” Ojiro remarked to Iida, who laughed. Bakugou ignored that remark, and turned to the others.

 

“What about you lot?” Todoroki shrugged.

 

“There’s no one at my house, so it doesn’t really matter.” Todoroki admitted. “My dad’s still in the hospital, and my sister’s working.”

 

“I likewise, need to get home.” Iida admitted. “My father is going to get increasingly worried if I keep ignoring his calls.”

 

Bakugou turned to Momo, who was determined not looking at the rest of the group. “Momo?” Bakugou asked. “You staying?”

 

“I - no. Wait, yes, I will.” Momo’s eyes stayed planted towards the ground, but she turned to look at them. “I’ll stay.”


Plans were made. Numbers were exchanged. Goodbyes were issued.



And the empty waiting room was left, Todoroki, Momo, and Bakugou all sprawled out in various stages of half - sleep in the hard chairs.







After god knows how long, Bakugou stood up, feeling for the money in his pocket. “I’m gonna get food.” He said, to no response. “Be right back.”




The hospital halls were surprisingly dark at night, the normally blaring fluorescent lights dimmed. What for, Bakugou had no idea. There was also a surprising lack of sound, the rattling of machines and IV’s that Bakugou had registered earlier mysteriously silent.


The light above the vending machine was blown out. Bakugou, undeterred, slid his money into the pay slot.




“Bakugou.”


The soft familiar tone took him by surprise, Bakugou jumping a good two feet. He turned, to see Midoriya, in a familiar middle school garuken, bangs in front of his eyes, looking at him, fidgeting, standing across from him, leaning on the wall.

 

“Izuku?” Then, the gears in his head clicked, and a familiar memory surfaced in his mind. “No - you’re not Izuku. Two?”

 

Two didn’t respond, but a single drop of blood ran down his face.






“...I -” Two slowly slid down to his knees, back propped up against the hard surface behind him. “I - I’m-”

 

“Hey-” It looked like Two was crying now, water mixing with blood, dripping all over the floor. “It’s o-”


Two had brushed his bangs from his face, and a pair of ruined, scratched, burned and bleeding eyes stared back at him, if you could even call them that. Watery red blood poured from his eyes in a steady stream, tears mixed with blood. “I’m sorry -” He choked out, scarred cut arms pulled over his head like a wounded animal curling in on itself before it died. “I’m so sorry -”


“Woah, woah, woah, calm down.” Bakugou, unsure of what to do, placed a tentative hand on the crying boy thing’s shoulder. “What’s - the problem?”

 

“You KNOW what it is!” Two spat out. “For months, I’ve been chasing you and Three around, trying to - to -” Two pressed his palms to his ruined eyes in an attempt to control his sobbing. “And then One and the rest of us get taken - and you just - after everything I did!”

 

“Oh.” The pieces fell into place now, the jumbled memories that Three had given to him becoming crystal clear. “That wasn’t -”


“The literal night before we got taken I tried to kill you in your sleep!” Two yelled, fists curling in rage and frustration. “You didn’t remember before - but you do now! It wasn’t a nightmare! YOU COULD HAVE DIED!”


Silence. No sound but Two’s harsh breathing and the faint buzzing of the air conditioner.


“...I could have killed you and yet you still went to go save One and the rest of us.” Two mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest. “I was so angry that I had forgotten you were capable of change. And I’m so, so , sorry -”

 

 

 

“Shut up.” Bakugou held a hand up to stop Two’s warbling. “Listen up dipshit, because I’m only going to say this once.”

 

Two nodded.

 

“You had every right to be mad. I had been an asshole to you - to all of you - since god knows how long. Just because I did one nice thing doesn’t automatically mean it’s all better.” Two blinked, and Bakugou plowed on. “It’s not. You don’t owe me anything. In fact, I should be the one apologizing to you.”


Two blinked again, confused.


“I was an asshole. And I…” Bakugou swallowed down the rather large lump in his throat. “I’m sorry for the last fourteen years.”


Two broke down sobbing in earnest again, head buried between his knees. Bakugou scooted over and awkwardly wrapped him in a one - armed side hug until Two calmed down.

 

“I - It - It wasn’t - really fourteen years -” Two warbled out between deep gulps of air. “That implies that you’d been bullying me - since you were one - it was more like ten years -”

 

“I get it.” Two and Bakugou stayed like that for a long time until he had calmed down.


Finally, Two looked at him, bloody chunks of eyes crinkled in a sad smile of grief. “Thank you.” Two finally said.

 

Bakugou rolled his eyes but smiled back. “Whatever.” He mumbled.


Two was simply there, then he wasn’t, leaving nothing left but a few droplets of blood. Bakugou sighed at the thing’s escape and stood up.


“IF ANY OTHER OVERLY EMOTIONAL VERSIONS OF MY FRIEND HAVE ANY STUPID APOLOGIES OR SOMETHING TO DECLARE, THEN YOU MIGHT AS WELL DO IT NOW!” Bakugou shouted into the empty hospital hall.


There was no response.







 

 











 

 

“This makes no sense.” Aizawa muttered to himself, as he opened the door to his tiny apartment. “All For One had to have escaped - there was signs of gore but no body -” As he always did when a case made no sense to him, he repeated the details of what he had found back to him, hoping that verbalizing it would make more sense.


But then, he heard the TV running.


And he hadn’t turned it on.



Aizawa dashed to his living room to see a familiar figure sitting on his worn green couch, absentmindedly flicking through channels with a wave of his hand.

 

“You’re back.” Midoriya said cooly.


Aizawa dropped his bag.


“You’re supposed to be in the hospital.” Aizawa stuttered out.

 

“Was I?” Midoriya’s eyes flicked to the ceiling, then the couch, as if assessing the situation for any threats. “Well I suppose I got better.”

 

Aizawa turned off the TV.



“You’re not Midoriya.” He said, controlled anger reserved for villains leaking into his tone.

 

The person wearing Midoriya’s face lifted an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He said. “I didn’t notice.”

 

“What do you want.” Aizawa’s feet shifted into a fighting stance, preparing to tackle the imposter if need be. The imposter didn’t break eye contact, Aizawa’s cold fury doing nothing to make him flinch.

 

“What do you want?” The imposter shot back. Aizawa blinked.

 

“Tell me what you did to Midoriya.”

 

“If you’re asking about that one, he’s in the hospital.” The imposter remarked with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I didn’t hurt him, if that’s what you’re asking. I would never.”

 

His eyes betrayed the unspoken threat in that sentence.

 

I won’t hurt him, but I can hurt you.


Aizawa shifted from foot to foot, arms crossed. “What’s going on here.” He asked. “Who are you. Why have you come to UA.”

 

The thing laughed. “I’m not going to tell you all that.” He remarked. “I’m not into monologuing. Although -”

 

A piece of paper fluttered to Aizawa’s feet, seemingly out of nowhere. Aizawa looked up at where it had come from. Nothing.


“If you want an answer to one of your questions, go to those coordinates.”

 

Sure enough, the paper held a set of coordinates.

 

“They should tell you where to go. You’ll find me there.”

 

The TV flickered to life, and Aizawa turned to it, only to turn back to the imposter and see that he was gone. As if he was never there.


“Fuck.” Aizawa hissed. He pulled out his phone and entered the coordinates.




The location given simply read: Daughbough Beach.








 

 

 

 

 











 

 

“Bakugou.” A hand jostled his shoulder, and the blonde awoke, to see Momo looking at him, concerned. “You okay?”

 

“Wha - what time is it?” Bakugou mumbled, rubbing the sleep and strange memories from his eyes.

 

“About three AM.” Momo said, turning back to her phone. “You were asleep for about two hours.”


Two hours.


Two.




They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the beeps and blings from Momo’s phone.


“What game you playing?” Bakugou asked, looking over the taller girl’s shoulder.

 

“Bejeweled.” She replied, not meeting his eyes. “Todoroki really likes it.”

 

The boy in question was sound asleep, dual - colored hair draped over one of his eyes as he softly snored.


Bakugou watched Momo’s fingers dance across the screen for a few minutes, working up the courage to ask what he knew he needed to.


“Momo - do you like Midoriya?”


Momo’s brows scrunched up in confusion and distaste. “As in I want to date him?” Momo asked.

 

“No, as in a friend.”

 

“Why are you asking?”

 

Bakugou swallowed.


“You always seem kind of - apprehensive - around the guy.”


Momo didn’t react, eyes glued to her screen.


“Like you don’t really want to be there. Like you’re scared of him.”


Still no response.


“You don’t owe him anything.”


Momo finally shut off her phone, but still didn’t look at Bakugou. “What do you mean by that?” She remarked, tone neutral.

 

“I dunno - I just get the sense you’re trying to be friends with him because of a you thing. A favor you owe him.”


Silence, familiar air conditioning the only sound.


“If he did something for you - you don’t need to make up for that or some shit. That’s really not how it works.”

 

Momo flinched.

 

“Because I think the worst thing you can do to Midoriya is pretending to be his friend. He can deal with people hating him and people liking him as long as their transparent about it.” Bakugou shifted in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “But pretending you like him when you don’t? He values the few friends he’s got, Momo. That’d destroy him.”

 

Momo still refused to look at Bakugou, hands curled into fists.


“It’s not that I don’t like him,” Momo mumbled finally. “It’s just… complicated. A me problem.”

 

Bakugou didn’t react to that. Momo turned her phone back on in response.

 

“I don’t really want to talk about it right now Bakugou.” She admitted. “Maybe in the morning.”


Bakugou nodded, laying his head on the back of the chair, sleep pulling him down.








 

 









 

 

 

 

The coordinates that lead to Daughbough Beach not only lead there, it lead to a specific spot, right in the center of a clear ring that some had created, trash surrounding it.


In the center was a note. And a shovel.



The note simply read: dig.

 

In Midoriya’s familiar loopy handwriting.







And dig he did.


And dig.

 

And dig.

 

And dig.

 

And dig.


Sand flew around him as Aizawa dug, the hole going deeper and deeper. The full moon being his only light, Aizawa almost jabbed his foot with his shovel a few times, back aching, frustrated about this being a dead end -



-And then he hit something.



Something soft and rotted stuck out of the sand.


It was then that Aizawa registered the smell, the stench reminiscent of burning, rotted, sour meat and milk. He gagged, plugging his nose, and inspected the thing protruding out of the sand.
















It was a finger.












Aizawa swallowed, but kept digging, revealing a whole hand. Connected to an arm. Connected to -



“Oh no.” Aizawa’s heart sunk to the depths of his body, a familiar face staring at him from the earth. “Oh no no no nonononono,”

 

Aizawa was no stranger to dead bodies.




But this?


This was his student.


In a three - month old rotted fleshy mound of meat, when he had also been attending his class and walking this whole time.


Aizawa swallowed. Midoriya Izuku was dead. Whoever had been kidnapped - who had been talking to him just now - was not Midoriya -










The thing grabbed his forearm, the sagging eyeballs opening to look at him with a seaweed glare.


Aaaiiizawaaaaaa ,” It gargled out, rotted gums and teeth flashing a wicked grin. “ Aaizwaaaaaaaaa Sennnseiiiii...


Aizawa screamed - legitimately screamed, and kicked the thing off of him, scrambling to crawl out of the hole he had dug. The thing staggered after him, reaching for his face, grabbing -








And Aizawa pulled himself out of the hold, using his capture scarf to push the mound of junk next to him into the hole, burying the reanimated corpse for good.




It was then he noticed that Midoriya - the one in his house - was standing right next to him.

 

“What the HELL,” Aizawa panted out. “WAS THAT?!”


The thing smiled.



“You recognize the wound shape?”


The gaping hole in the thing’s chest.



Fist shaped.




And there was only one person who could have been able to do something like that.










 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“...All Might,” Aizawa breathed.



The thing smiled in conformation.

 

Chapter Text

The first thing he noticed when he came to was the ceiling, cracked in places that the UA infermerary was not.

 

Then, the lack of IV’s in his arm, which Midoriya took as a good sign. The bandages wrapped around his wrists and legs were scratchy, and Midoriya resisted the urge to rip them off.



Then, all the memories came crashing back to him.




Oh.



 

 

He hadn’t realized that he had started to hyperventilate until someone hauled him up and slapped him across the face.





“IDIOT, IT’S ME!”



 

 

Midoriya looked up to see an incredibly tired and concerned Bakugou staring right back at him.



“K - Kacchan?” Midoriya mumbled, sleep still in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

 

 

“I… wanted to make sure you were okay?” The statement sounded more like an admission of weakness. Knowing Bakugou, it probably was. “Since you were - you know, kidnapped.”



Midoriya took a deep shuddering breath to calm himself, hand to stinging cheek. “...Why did you slap me?” He muttered under his breath.

 

“You were freaking out, what was I supposed to do?” Bakugou retorted, arms crossed.

 

“Not that?” Midoriya shot back, eyes furrowed. The two glared at each other for a few seconds, before Bakugou broke eye contact and looked away.




 

 

Neither one spoke for a few seconds.



 

 

 

“...What happened?” Midoriya mumbled. Bakugou looked up at him, brow furrowed in confusion pity anger something unidentifiable.



“I came to rescue you.”

 

“Yeah, I know that, but -” Midoriya took a deep breath. He needed conformation himself.

 

“Did… are the other me’s… real?”

 

Bakugou exhaled through his teeth, a harsh sound that echoed throughout the silent hospital room.





 

 

“Unfortunately.”



 

 

Hotness prickled against the corner of Midoriya’s eyes, and a single tear slid down his face before he could stop it. He sniffed, but he was cried out. He had no tears left to give.



 

“I thought… I was going insane.”

 

 

“You and me both.” Bakugou sat down on the edge of the hospital bed, eyes still firmly planted elsewhere. “How long have you been seeing those guys?”

 

“A - a while. Mostly when I was asleep, but then they started showing up in real life, like at the mall…” Midoriya trailed off, shadowy memories pulling at the veil in his mind.








 

 

“This isn’t a quirk, is it, Kacchan.”




 

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t a question anymore. It was an indisputable fact.

 

 

 

Bakugou didn’t look at him for a few seconds. He opened his mouth like he was going to speak a few times, but then closed it. After a while, he finally spoke.




 

 

 

 

 

“I never did apologize.”

 

 

“For what?”

 

“Being an asshole.” Bakugou chuckled, but the sound was more sad and slightly angry then anything. “One of the other you’s was really mad about that. I got chased around a lot.”

 

Midoriya blinked, pulling his knees to his chest.

 

“Define ‘chased around’.”

 

“Attempted murder.”

 

Midoriya sniffed, refusing to make eye contact with the other boy.




“You don’t need to apologize.”

 

“I do, actually.” Bakugou shifted positions so he was facing Midoriya. “No number of strange cryptid bullshit you pull cancels out the fact that I was an asshole to you.”

 

“But - that doesn’t equate attempted dream-murder or whatever!” Midoriya burst out. “I - I shouldn’t have done that!”

 

“It wasn’t you!” Bakugou fired back. “It was Two - or whatever! I don’t care, it wasn’t you. YOU - you.”



Midoriya drew in a big breath head between his knees in shame. Bakugou placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking slightly (out of fear or sadness, Midoriya didn’t know.)

 

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou mumbled.






Midoriya wept for his lost humanity.



















 

 

 

Aizawa couldn’t put to words his boiling rage that was festering inside him at that moment. He had heard of seeing red before, but this?

 

 

This was pure black hate.



 

 

He hardly even registered when he entered into UA’s gate, or when he was inside. It was only when he entered the teachers lounge, bathed with early - morning sun, did everything set in, crystal clear.



 

 

 

All Might had killed a student.



No matter which way you sliced it.



 

 

 

 

“Aizawa?” Toshinori looked up from his newspaper, arm still in a sling from the assault they had lead on the League. “Is something wrong -”




 

The table was knocked over as Aizawa lunged forward, scarf wrapping around the taller man’s neck and lifting him off the ground. Toshinori yelped, veiny hands clawing at the vise grip around his throat, constricting his windpipe.

 

 

 

“IT WAS YOU!” Aizawa yelled, rage in his tone. Toshinori’s eyes were wide, confusion only serving to make Aizawa more angry.

 

“I … what…?” The man wheezed out. Aizawa flung him into the wall, knocking over a bookshelf, hot coffee spilling onto the floor.

 

“That was a CHILD!” Aizawa spat. “AND YOU JUST KILLED HIM?”

 

“I don’t -” Toshinori’s eyes filled with recognition, and his face paled. “No…” He muttered, backing up further. “I - it was an accident -”

 

“Bullshit.” Aizawa hissed, advancing closer like how a lion approaches its prey. “You don’t ‘accidentally’ PUNCH A HOLE IN A KID’S STOMACH!!”





 

 

“Both of you, freeze.”



 

 

 

The two men stopped at Nedzu’s tone, beady black eyes assessing the damage. “What is going on here?”

 

“Midoriya’s dead.” Aizawa replied, voice shaking. “Midoriya’s dead and All Might killed him.”

 

“I - I didn’t mean to!”

 

“HE’S STILL DEAD!” Aizawa yelled out. “NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY HE’S STILL DEAD!”

 

Nedzu looked back and forth between the two, face neutral. “Aizawa, I need you to calm down.” He said. Aizawa clenched and unclenched his fists, but backed off. “Explain to me what happened.”

 

 

He relayed his story from beginning to end, showing them the picture he had managed to snap of the corpse. Nedzu, still expressionless, turned to Toshinori. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Nedzu asked calmly.

 

 

“I… it happened after the USJ.” Toshinori admitted, voice wobbly. “He… it wasn’t the Midoriya you’ve been teaching, Aizawa.”

 

“It was… someone else. And I’m not sure what happened, but I started panicking when he was talking, like - like someone else was controlling my feelings.” Toshinsori looked at the ground, black eyes downcast and beaten. “My fight - or - flight response activated. And I always choose fight.”

 

Neither side reacted for a minute.



 

 

“All Might, you’re dismissed from this establishment.” All Might shot up to say something, but Nedzu held up a paw. “Regardless of how accidental this was, it goes to show that you are very vulnerable around empathy quirks. And that provides a danger to our students.”

 

 

 

All Might looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he silently handed over his ID, and left the room.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aizawa stared at the door for a long time after he was gone.




“What about Midoriya?” Aizawa turned back to Nedzu. “Even if the dead him is some kind of clone or something, he still -”






 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Midoriya Izuku will be expelled.”




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aizawa’s breath caught in his throat.

 

 

 

 

 

“What?!” He exclaimed. “He wasn’t at fault here, it was -”

 

 

“Regardless of All Might, his power has proved to be too temperamental and psychologically damaging to keep him at this institution.” Nedzu, not looking at Aizawa, pulled out an expulsion form from under the desk, absentmindedly filling it out.

 

 

“But we can still fix this!” Aizawa shot back. “Our job is to help students with their problems such as quirks! We can’t just give up on him!”

 

“While the naivety is charming, this isn’t your choice to make.” Nedzu, finished with the form, slid it into an envelope. “After my years of working here, I’ve realized that there are some problems we just can’t fix.”

 

 

“So you’re just throwing out every student you deem unnecessary and a lost cause?” Aizawa snapped, throwing Nedzu’s words back at him. “I thought you told me not to do that.”

 

 

“There’s a difference here.” Nedzu said, finally looking up at Aizawa, black eyes blank. “You see, I am the principal. I can do whatever I may like. If you don’t like that, then you can leave.”





 

 

 

 

 

Aizawa stared at the principal for one second. Two seconds.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Alright.” Aizawa fished his ID out of his pocket and slammed it onto the desk.







 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Then I quit.”

Chapter Text

“You QUIT?!” Hisashi asked the minute he got back to the apartment. “Are you SERIOUS?!”

 

“I’m not staying in an establishment that kicks students out because we aren’t sure how to help them.” Aizawa shot back. “That’s corrupt and lazy. I may be grumpy, but I’m a man of morals.” 

 

“My god.” Hisashi sat down on the couch next to him, normally styled hair matted and tangly. “I mean - how’d Nedzu react?”

 

“He didn’t.” Aizawa muttered. “He just took my badge, asked for my resignation form by next friday, and ordered me to go. He just… didn’t seem to care.”

 

“But… why?”



Aizawa sighed, and explained the whole story, starting with him coming back to his apartment to find….





















Midoriya, after a good two hours since Bakugou left, was - well, bored. 

 

He had counted all the objects of repetition in his room, people watched for god knows how long, and watched doctors go in and out of other peoples' rooms. Perhaps electronics HAD really fucked up his attention span.

 

After he was interviewed, in which Midoriya gave little detail to his kidnapping, the police let him go, only for the doctors to snatch him up immediately after to check his vitals, which didn’t really work out since none of their machines were working thanks to his quirk power. 

 

And then he was in the lobby.

 

He had no phone so there was no one to text, but the receptionist let him know that his mother had called for an uber. Why she didn’t come get him herself was a little odd. She was prone to being dismissive, but not dismissive enough to completely ignore him after he was gone for three days. 



The uber arrived, a sleek black van, who's driver had over taxed him in his payment. Midoriya didn’t care, and silently handed over two dollars and sixty eight cents extra then what he should have.



 

 

And then he was home.




 

 

 

 

The small apartment looked even smaller than usual after everything that had happened. The lights were off too, which was a bit… strange. Was his mom home?



Realizing he didn’t have his house key, he knocked on the door. 



 

 

No response.



 

 

 

He knocked again, then tried the handle, only to discover it was unlocked. A strange dread swelled up in his chest, and he slowly opened the door.











The house was normal, if not dark. Midoriya exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.



Then, the stairs creaked. Midoriya’s head swiveled to the side, to see his mother standing on the top of the stairs, holding a large bag of sorts. It was hard to tell in the dim lighting.



“Mom -” Midoriya held his arms out for a hug, tears falling down, but she brushed past him, walking up to the door. Midoriya’s heart sank.




“...Mom?”






Inko stared at the door, hand on the knob for a long time.







Finally, she spoke.





"I had really hoped Takaguci would have been the one," Inko said, fists curled around the strap of her suitcase. "She would have been better fit for a task like this."

 

“Mom?” 



Stop calling me that. ” Inko hissed, before sucking a breath between her teeth. “I’m not your mother, Izuku.”



Midoriya didn’t move, but he felt as if she had punched him.



“This whole time, I thought it was Takaguci’s kid. I thought he was the one.” Inko ran a hand through her green hair, exposing brown - undyed - roots. “He checked all the boxes - quirkless, strange - and she wanted it so badly for it to be him. She even gave us money for you to go to quirk counseling.” Inko’s hand came to rest at her side, still not facing her son Midoriya. “But it was you.” 



“What are you…” Then, it dawned on him.




 

 

 

 

 

 

“...no.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m afraid it’s true.” Inko replied. “Why else did you think you managed to get into UA? Powerful people have been controlling you your whole life, Izuku. People who don’t care. No one does.”



Inko finally turned to face him, face cold and expressionless. 



“So what’s one more?”



Midoriya sank to his knees. 



“Now they’ve got what they wanted. My place in the plan is done, so I’m not needed anymore.” She turned back to the door, hand on the doorknob. “I can finally have the normal life I’ve always wanted.”



“MOM -!”



“I’M NOT YOUR MOTHER!!” Something hard struck his face, and it took him a second to register it was a heel, attached to a foot, attached to his mom. He fell over on the floor, clutching his wounded cheek. Inko stared down at him in disgust, as if he were a monster. 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m not your mother.” She said coldly. “I never was.”




 

 

He made no motion to get up. 



 

 

 

 

“Goodbye Izuku.” And with that, she turned the doorknob, harsh white sunlight breaking through the door. She stepped through, tossing a form behind her, the door closing behind her with a soft click. 




 

 

 

Midoriya looked up from the heap he was in on the floor to look at the form she threw at him.



 

 

 

 

 

It read: Letter of expulsion.




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And with that, Inko Midoriya was gone.

 

Chapter Text

The house was dark. So were the windows.

 

Aizawa stares up at the seemingly abandoned Midoriya household. He had not been able to reach Midoriya’s mother, to see if he could schedule a meeting with her and her son. To apologize for the school’s - Nedzu’s - behavior.

 

 

But she hadn’t answered. And the house was silent.

 

Aizawa knocked on the apartment door again. “Mrs. Midoriya?” He asked.

 

“It’s me.”

 

“You looking for Ms. Inko?”

 

Aizawa turned to see a blonde haired middle aged woman standing behind him, a high schooler - probably her kid - in tow. “She left three days ago.”

 

“Left?” Aizawa turned to face her. “What do you mean?”

 

“I dunno.” The woman shrugged. “I saw her get in her car with a suitcase on Tuesday and she never came back.”

 

Aizawa blinked. “Was her son with her?”

 

“As far as I saw, no.” The woman shrugged. “I saw him go in the apartment a few minutes before she left.”

 

 

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed at this. “I see.” He stuck out his hand. “My name is Makoto Shigeru. Thanks for the information.”

 

The woman smiled, not noticing the lie, and shook his hand. “Himari Takaguci.” Her blue eyes crinkled on the lines of a smile. “It was nice to meet you.”

 

Her son looked away, not meeting his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aizawa tried the door once Takaguci had left.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was unlocked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Communal... living.” Bakugou’s mom’s eyes narrowed at the form declaring this information. “Like dorms?”

 

“I guess so.” Bakugou shrugged, all eyes on him over the coffee table. “They need parental permission.”

 

His mom sniffed. “Well I guess.” She replies reluctantly. “I just don’t know why.”

 

“It will be safer.” His dad interjected. “After all, the villains are still out there.”

 

“Their leader is dead.” His mom huffed, signing the paper. “Don’t they know when to give up?”

 

 

Bakugou swallowed, red rimmed memories sneaking into his mind.

 

 

What... had happened then?

 

 

It was probably better that Izuku hadn’t let him see. But dammit if the fearful curiosity wasn’t gnawing at him.

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

The apartments was dark, the first thing Aizawa noticed.

 

 

Then, the decrepit state of the house, wiring and pipes pulled out of the wall. Machinery littered in scrap heaps everywhere. Aizawa’s nose wrinkled. Was Midoriya really living like this?

 

 

The piles of broken electronics only increased as Aizawa went up the stairs. A not-so-alien knot of dread sat in his stomach, Midoriya’s familiar aura of fear around him palpable in the claustrophobic space.

 

 

 

 

Two rooms on the top floor were locked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

One’s door had been torn down.

 

 

 

 

 

Aizawa swallowed. Had the Midoriya’s been attacked? Judging by the aura Midoriya was still here, though. Was his mother okay? Had she been the target this time?

 

 

 

He heard a shuffling in one of the rooms, and he froze.

 

 

It was from the room with the torn down door.

 

 

 

Aizawa exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and walked in.

 

 

This room was the heart of the mechanical hurricane that had swept through the house, various devices of all kinds that were disassembled, reassembled, and fused together into some kind of hulking monstrosity of a machine, wires and pipes jutting through the drywall.

 

In the center of this was a futon buried under wires. A tuft of green hair stuck out of it.

 

Aizaw sighed, brushing the wires off Midoriya’s still body.

 

 

 

 

The boy looked awful, like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days. Wiring was looped around various limbs, the two biggest and thickest wrapped tight around his neck. Aizawa unlooped the two big ones, looking at the bruising left around his neck.

 

 

Considering how dark the bruises were, they were obviously tight enough to asphyxiate someone. And they had been there for a good long time.

 

Midoriya’s seaweed green eyes opened, dull and ringed. He blinked a few times, as if his eyes deceived him.

 

“A - Aizawa Sensei?” He mumbled to himself. “Why -“

 

“I came to check up on you kid.” Aizawa replied, loosening the wires around his arms. “Why are you laying around in this junk?”

 

Midoriya shrugged, as if he couldn’t be bothered, hasty white stitches evident on his arms.

 

“Where’s your mom?”

 

“Gone.”

 

Aizawa blinked.

 

“Gone as in on a trip?”

 

“Gone.”

 

The single word fills the dark room. Aizawa’s heart plummeted.

 

“She abandoned you.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

The hollowness in his voice suggests tiredness, and the shaking shows signs of hunger.

 

“Have you eaten?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Machines don’t need to eat.”

 

Aizawa sighed, finishing unlooping the wires from the boy. “You’re not a machine. You’re a kid who’s been kicked to the curb because life hasn’t been fair and no one gets that.”

 

Midoriya was still silent.

 

“Come on.” Aizawa stood, helping the smaller boy up.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Away from here. This place is unsanitary and dangerous.”

 

Midoriya was still silent, Aizawa helping him down the stairs, out to his car.

 

 

 

As Aizawa drove away, he looked in his mirror, looking at the sleeping child in his backseat.

 

He wanted to strangle Nedzu with his bare hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A girl sat in her room, black haired pulled down and in her eyes.

 

The grandfather clock ticked behind her, swaying back and forth.

 

 

Tick.

 

She held two pictures, staring intently at both. On the desk, was a sewing needle, drops of blood sprinkled on it.

 

Tock.

 

On one hand, was a picture of her and her family, happy. When she was young.

 

 

Tick.

 

 

In the other was a photo booth strip, of her and two other boys. Her friends.

 

Tock.

 

 

Eyes swung back and forth between the two pictures, like the pendulum of a clock.

 

Tick.

 

Her family.

 

Tock.

 

Her friends.

 

Tick.

 

Her family.

 

Tock.

 

Her friends.

 

Tock.

 

Her family.

 

Tock.

 

Her friends.

 

Tock -

 

 

 

The girl slammed her fist on the clock, stopping its buffering on one note. The clock’s glass cover shattered, embedding in  her hands, spilling all over the floor. The dragonfly she kept in a cage as a pet since she was ten chirped in surprise.

 

 

Tick.

 

Her family.

 

Tock.

 

Her friends.

 

 

Bong.

 

As the clock struck one she wept.

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Shota I’m home - Why is there a kid asleep in our couch?!”

 

Aizawa looked up from his phone to see an exhausted Hizashi staring at Midoriya, who was still asleep on the couch. He sighed.

 

 

“I went to talk to his mother. Turns out she ditched her kid, the house was a shithole, and he’s been starving himself.”

 

Hizashi’s hand flew to his mouth in horror. “Who the hell would do something like that?” He exclaimed.

 

“Inko Midoriya apparently.” Aizawa sighed, putting his phone down. “I’m just glad I got to him before he did. I’m fairly sure if I hadn’t showed up he would have offed himself.”

 

Hizashi didn’t respond, eyes downcast.

 

“...what are we going to do?”

 

“I dunno. Let him stay here until he gets better, I think. Then - well, again, I dunno.”

 

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.” Aizawa looked up to see Hizashi smiling at him.

 

 

“You mixed up the metaphor again.”

 

“It’s better this way.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

Midoriya awoke to a blurry ceiling and a cold pit inside his stomach. He was underneath something soft and slightly scratchy - a blanket?

 

Where was he?

 

 

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

 

Midoriya swiveled around to see Mr. Aizawa looking at him from across the room in a squashy chair. “How are you feeling.”

 

“Mr... Aizawa?” Midorya curled in on himself, pulling the blanket around himself tighter. “Where -“

 

“One of the apartments in this hero-only complex.” Aizawa’s said, deadpan. Midoriya blinked. “You’re in my apartment.”

 

“Oh.” The fuzzy memories of what had happened started to come into focus.

 

Then, his stomach growled. “...Do you have anything to eat?” Midoriya asked quietly. Aizawa sighed, shuffling over to the kitchen.

 

“Here.” Aizawa handed him a small take-out box. “It’s yakisoba.”

 

Midoriya eagerly took a bite, hungrier then he’d ever been.

 

 

It reminded him of his mom, a little.

 

 

 

Midoriya hadn’t realized that he started crying until Aizawa awkwardly passed him a box of tissues. He sobbed, the bubble of constant misery inside him finally bursting.

 

 

He was out of UA.

 

His mom had abandoned him.

 

His life was officially over.

 

 

When he finally stopped crying, Aizawa cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with Midoriya’s sudden emotional outburst. “So. Can you tell me what happened?”

 

Midoriya sniffed, pulling his legs to his chest.

 

“And be honest. No one’s got a clean answer out of you, but I - we - might be able to help you better if you do.”

 

 

Midoriya didn’t say anything, red rimmed eyes cast firmly to the floor.

 

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his forehead. “We can talk about this later.” He stood, walking out of the room, but not before turning back and saying - “I want that food gone by the time I get back. You need to eat.”

 

Midoriya’s head shot up at the stern reprimand. “Uh - yessir.”

 

“Don’t ‘sir’ me small, I’m not that old yet.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

Going back to school felt... weird.

 

Not just because of all the shit that had happened, but because just of - well, yeah, it was that.

 

Bakugou was still having an existential crisis over his body being hijacked by his friend (?? What even were they to each other at this point??) and All For One’s death. It just seemed so... fucking anticlimactic that a fifteen year old boy had been the one to take him down -

 

 

He’s not a fifteen year old boy.

 

Bakugou flinched at the dark part of his brain, the part that constantly screamed Izuku was something other, something worse, something bad.

 

He’s not a fifteen year old boy and you know it.

 

But that was impossible, wasn’t it?

 

Because if he wasn’t a boy - a human -

 

Then what the fuck was he?

 

 

 

“Hey.” Todoroki jolted Bakugou out of his thoughts by rudely poking the back of his head. “Welcome back.”

 

“I guess.” He mumbled in response. His eyes turned to a suspiciously quiet figure in the corner, eyes on her hands.

 

“Hey Momo.” Momo jolted up to look across the classroom and see Bakugou making a rude hand gesture at her. She giggled, but even that was half hearted.

 

“She has eye bags the size of Japan under her eyeballs.” Bakugou remarked. Todoroki nodded.

 

“Think she’s okay?”

 

Bakugou turned back to face her, noting her slumped posture, sullen expression.

 

 

 

 

“It’s probably best if we leave her alone.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Students filed in one by one. Even the grape fucker showed, and if anyone would pussy out, it’d definitely be him.

 

 

One seat was suspiciously empty.

 

 

Izuku still hadn’t arrived. Bakugou stared at the empty chair, eyes burning a hole through it.

 

“You know staring at his seat isn’t going to make him show up.”

 

Bakugou swiveled around to see a smirking Todoroki staring at him. “Fuck you, you Canadian flag, you think I care if he shows?”

 

“I do, actually.” Bakugou hissed at Todoroki’s blunt statement, and turned away, scowling.

 

“It’s not a weakness to care about people.”

 

Bakugou didn’t look at the dual-haired teen.

 

“It kinda seems like you think that - and it’s not.”

 

“Where do you get off lecturing me, Mr. I’m Not Here To Make Friends?!”

 

“That was once.” Todoroki responded. “And I was also wrong. Life’s better when you have people to confide in. And something tells me you need it.

 

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, words hitting a little too close to home. “Fuck you.” He hissed. Todoroki sighed.

 

“Whatever. I’m just trying to help you.” He was interrupted by Principal Nedzu coming into their class, posture poised and eerily calm as always. He and Izuku were cut from the same cloth, in Bakugou’s opinion.

 

“Aizawa-Sensei has left our establishment, so for the time being, I will be supervising your homeroom.” The class reacted loudly, part gasps and part questions.

 

Nedzu held up a paw, instantly silencing all the noise. “As of now, I am not disclosing answers to your questions. Now -“

 

Ojiro‘ hand shot up. Nedzu looked surprised, but called on him.

 

“Sir... where’s Midoriya?

 

 

 

 

 

 

The class was dead silent, Bakugou holding his breath, even though he didn’t realize it.

 

 

 

 

 

Nedzu’s smile never left his face as he calmly dropped the biggest bombshell of the entire day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Mr. Midoriya has dropped out.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The class was silent.

 

 

Then -

 

“Why?!” Bakugou shout up out of his chair. “Why’d he drop out?!”

 

The whole class burst into another giant cacophony of noises, the smile on Nedzu’s face never leaving. He let all of them yell for a few minutes.

 

 

Todoroki was silent, observing.

 

 

Finally, when the class had calmed, Nedzu cleared his throat and began.

 

“As you know, Mr. Midoriya was recently kidnapped by the League Of Villains.”

 

The class was silent at that dire reminder.

 

“After what he went through, he decided that being a hero wasn’t a path he wanted to pursue, so he dropped out.”

 

The class was still silent.

 

Ojiro sat back down. “That... makes sense.” He said, more to himself then anything. “I get it. I get it.”

 

 

 

Todoroki didn’t.

 

 

The smile on Nedzu’s face was oddly sinister.

 

 

And he was determined to find out what.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Bakugou.”

 

The hairs on the back of Bakugou’s neck stood up feeling the cold air emanating from Todoroki surround him as the teen approached. “What do you want, fuckass.”

 

“Tell me what happened to Midoriya.”

 

Bakugou didn’t look at him, gritting his teeth. “What’s there to know, you know everything -“

 

“I’m not an idiot. There’s more going on here then meets the eye. Tell me what’s going on.”

 

“Why the hell do you want to know?!”

 

“He’s my friend!” Todoroki shouted back, hand clenched to the front of his jacket. “And I know - he wouldn’t just drop out like this! And I know something else must have happened when you went to save him - like how did you know where he was?! Or how you even get -“

 

“SHUT UP!!”

 

All heads in the hall turned to Bakugou, fists smoking in a familiar rage he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the Sports Festival - since Three came along.

 

 

“...Shut. Up.” Bakugou hissed our finally. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, half-and-half. Quit shoving your abnormally long nose into places it doesn’t belong!”

 

“This is my problem as much as it is yours!” Todoroki shot back, uniform steaming.

 

“Oh, my problem? My problem? I don’t give a damn what happens to Izuku, or what happens to -“

 

A fist connected with his nose.

 

 

 

 

But it wasn’t Todoroki.

 

 

 

 

 

One second he was up, the next he was down as a fuming, angrily crying Momo glared down at him.

 

“YES YOU DO CARE!!” She screamed, face red. “DON’T SAY THAT, DON’T SAY THAT!! STOP BEING A SHIT AND JUST BE HONEST ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS!!”

 

Bakugou couldn’t even speak, eyes wide, staring at Momo, in part shock and part awe.

 

“YOU’RE THE ONLY REAL FRIEND HE HAS!!” Momo burst out. “The ONLY - the only -“

 

Tears streamed down her face as she turned tail and ran, both Todoroki and Bakugou staring after her.

 

 

 

 

“...wow.” Todoroki mumbled.

 

 

 

 

Bakugou stood up, and solemnly walked away, Momo’s words ringing in his head, ignoring the sinking feeling that something was really wrong with her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah, he was scared of Izuku.

 

But not for the reasons she thought.

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry.”

 

 

 

Momo didn’t look up from her bento box, eyes planted firmly away from Bakugou’s face.

 

“I mean it. Seriously - can you please fucking listen to me.”

 

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.”

 

 

Bakugou blinked, cool wind blowing across the school roof where they sat.

 

“It’s Izuku.”

 

That was the first time Momo had ever used his real name.

 

“...Earlier you said that - I’m his only friend. But what about you?”

 

Momo looked up, eyes clouded and watery.

 

 

“I think we’ve established that Midoriya and I are many things, but friends is not one of them.”

 

 

Bakugou exhaled at that scathing remark. “If you don’t like him, then why are you so concerned?”

 

“Same reason you are, dummy.”

 

Bakugou blinked.

 

“Bakugou... do - do you like Midoriya?”

 

 

 

Bakugou stared at a part of the wall behind Momo, thinking really fucking hard about this question.

 

 

Which one?

 

The one she knew - One, obviously. But they were all him, right? Facets of his mind or something.

 

He liked some of them. But not all. Certainly not the ones who disliked him.

 

But One - He was different.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“...yeah.” Bakugou mumbled quietly. “I like him a lot.”

 

Momo sighed, pulling her knees to her chest.

 

“And I hate that!” Bakugou burst out. “Because - because -“

 

Because I don’t know if those feelings are genuine or just something Izuku planted in my head.

 

But Bakugou knew he couldn’t say that. No one would believe him - and it was so fucking frustrating!

 

 

“Hey -“ Momo placed a hand on his forearm, as he pressed a fist to his eyes to keep himself from angry crying. “It’s okay.”

 

“It’s fucking not though!” Bakugou hissed, halfway between a laugh and a sob. “I - I’m just -“

 

He sat down next to her, defeated, head in his hands.

 

“I’m so confused.”

 

Momo and Bakugou sat like that, side by side, for a while, in mutually hollow and depressed silence.

 

“...I have some onigiri if you want some.” Momo mumbled quietly. Bakugou took it.

 

“At least you can talk about it.” Momo admitted. “I have such a hard time talking about what I’m feeling - it’s like throwing up. You kinda can, and I admire you for that. You’re honest.”

 

 

 

knife in his chest, tear stained face behind him

 

 

“Not as honest as I probably should have been.” Bakugou admitted.

 

“See - That. Right there. You just - kinda say whatever you’re really thinking - you don’t put up a front of being OKAY, you’re just - you. And I hate that I can’t do that!”

Momo curled up tighter, ponytail tangled and matted. “I always have to be okay, for my parents, for you, my classmates - Midoriya’s the only person who could see through me - my facade, and everything else - and it terrifies the SHIT out of me. Because -“ she inhaled deeply, choking back bile and tears. “Because without my facade - I’m no one. I’m just kind of a product of what people want, and nothing else. Without someone telling me what to do - fuck, I’m just -“

 

Bakugou gave her a hug.

 

Momo stiffened for a second, before melting into the embrace, dissolving into tears, breath coming out in shuddering sobs.

 

 

“I’m - I’m so scared, Bakugou - of me, and you - and Midoriya - god - I’m so scared of him -“

 

 

They stayed like that even after the bell rang.

 

 

When they finally stood up, Bakugou turned back to Momo. “I got your email by the way. About the gala your parents are hosting. I rspv’d.”

 

“Oh.” Momo’s face blanched for a second, then she perked up, like a flower given water after a dry day. “Okay.”

 

“I didn’t see Midoriya on the invite list.” Momo stiffened at that. “You not gonna invite him?”

 

“No! No - he - he can come.”

 

“You sure? If you don’t want to -“

 

“I’m sure. I’m sure.”

 

 

Momo was not sure.

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

“Psst.”

 

Midoriya woke up again to see a mirror image of him looming over him, ringed and frantic green eyes wide with concern and - curiosity, maybe. It was hard to tell when his vision was so blurry.

 

“...Four?” Four nodded, leaning back on the couch to give Midoriya some space to sit up.

 

“I’m so sorry to wake you - I probably shouldn’t have, and everyone else said it was a bad idea - but... but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

 

Midoriya pulled his legs up to his chest, peering at the teen in front of him, exuding paranoia. “I... I’m okay.”

 

“Five and I saw what happened.”

 

Midoriya stiffened.

 

“On the roof.”

 

 

No response.

 

“Why would you do something like that?” Four asked, fear and pity tinging his voice.

 

“An experiment.”

 

“You could have died.”

 

“I don’t really care.”

 

Four looked away.

 

 

“...There’s so little of me left. I think I might be better of dying anyways.”

 

“Don’t say that - there’s still so much you don’t know!”

 

“I don’t care about it.” Midoriya replied. “I don’t care about anything.”

 

 

Four inhaled. Then exhaled.

 

“I - I know this is weird coming from me - considering I’m not the emotional core and all, haha, but I really don’t want you to die. And not because you’re me - because I care a lot about you. You were nice to me.”

 

“I could have been nicer.”

 

“You could have also been a huge jerk like anyone else - there were a lot of things you could have done - but you didn’t. Stop giving yourself so little credit.”

 

 

Midoriya didn’t move, eyes pinpointed on one of Present Mic’s “paintings”, if you could even call it that. Of a butterfly, dragonfly, and a wasp. Or a technicolored giraffe if he squinted.

 

“...One?”

 

“Thanks.” Midoriya said, tearing his eyes away from the wall, holding back exhausted tears. “Thanks a lot, actually Four.”

 

Four smiled. “No problem.”

 

 

 

 

 

The sound of grocery bags hitting the floor.

 

 

 

 

The two turned to see a startled looking Mr. Hizashi and an exasperated Mr. Aizawa. Both were staring at Four.

 

Aizawa spoke first. “Care to explain what this is all about?” He asked.

 

“Not really.” Midoriya replied.

 

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his forehead.

 

 

“Why are there two of them.” Hizashi blurted out.

 

 Four looked from Mr. Hizashi, to Mr. Aizawa, to Midoriya, and did the only logical thing.

 

 

 

Blinked away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Midoriya went to sleep with a full stomach and the sensation of eyes on the back of his neck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And if you are wise, so should you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

When everyone started touring around everyone’s dorm rooms, Bakugou chose that moment to duck out. 



He couldn’t bring himself to socialize. Not really. His mind was still reeling with the events of this morning. Not to mention everyone would probably nag him about it. 




So he was fine just sitting in his undecorated room by himself. Just fine.

 

Absolutely peachy. 






Looking out his tiny window that felt like something you’d see in a prison cell, Bakugou then noticed that there was a fire escape right next to his window, leading up to the roof. So he got an idea.




Grabbing his things, he maneuvered out his window, pulling himself over to the rickety stairs. It creaked and bent under his weight, but it didn’t collapse. For a brand new building, the stairs felt old. Unused. 



The roof was empty. 



Good. That’s how he wanted it. 



Just him. 



And the moon. 

 

And no one else. 






“Want some company?”



Bakugou hardly even flinched at that familiar voice. He turned, Three’s trademark smirk at full force. Sickly green eyes unnaturally wide, as usual.



“‘Thought you said you’d be out of my hair after the incident.” Bakugou remarked, opening a bag of veggie straws. 

 

“I said I wouldn’t drag you off to do more strange stuff. That doesn’t exclude normal friendly conversations, does it?”

 

“I’d hardly call you friendly.”

 

“Ouch. I’m hurt. Really.”



Silence for a few minutes. 




“Want a veggie straw?” Bakugou offered Three the bag. Three’s nose crinkled up.

 

“I don’t… eat.”

 

“Eh, more for me.” 




Silence once more, neither side really knowing where to start. 



“...You know, you were kind of an asshole.” Bakugou remarked, mouth full. Three arched an eyebrow. 

 

“That’s a subjective term.”

 

“I mean - you never told me what was going on. Why we kept running off into LSD world or some shit.” He shoots back, bitterness seeping into his tone. “Why Two kept trying to kill me.”

 

“You never asked.” Three replied. Bakugou snorted disdainfully. 

 

“That’s a weakass excuse. You think that makes up for it? I wanted fucking answeres, I still do, you weirdo.” Bakugou’s tone started to raise, and he bit down on his tongue to get himself to shut up. “Just because I was out of it down there doesn’t mean you still couldn’t have taken the time to just hash this shit out!”



Three didn’t say anything.



“I’m sensing some pent up anger here.” He finally remarked. Bakugou snorts. 

 

“Understatment of the fucking century, you piece of shit.”



Three looked away, mannerisms almost… guilty? 

 

That was dumb. Three was never guilty. 





“I thought you might think less of me if I told you what was going on.”

 

Now it was Bakugou’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 

“That Two - someone that we’re both a part of - wants to hurt you. Wanted, anyways. And I - you’d think I’d hurt you too. I wanted - to still feel liked.”

 

Bakugou didn’t respond. 

 

“I was selfish.” Three laughed, a bitter sound, more genuine than anything Bakugou had heard from him before. “Can’t I help it? It’s in my nature after all.”

 

Bakugou stood, not facing the other person on the other side. 



“I really don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

 

Three stared at him, before looking away, sad smile on his face. “That’s to be expected.” He laughed to himself. “Okay. Go if you want.”

 

Bakugoy stood, moving back to the fire escape, before Three spoke again. 

 

“You’ll be back.”



Bakugou didn’t move.



“You always come back.”



Silence.

 

“Fuck off.” He shot back, to empty air. 






Three was gone.












 

 


 

 

 

 

 

Mr. Hizashi had pressed Midoriya for answers about Four for a few hours. When he realized it was hopeless, he left, presumably to go teach.



Leaving just Mr. Aizawa and Midoriya, in the apartment. 




Mr. Aizawa had been very quiet this whole time, which was odd for him. If anything, Midoriya figured he’d be the one doing the grilling.



He didn’t say anything for a while, before finally speaking up. 



“You got an invitation.” 

 

Midoriya looked up from his hands. “I do?”

 

“Ms. Yayorozu is hosting a gala - at least her parents are. She invited the whole class.”

 

“But I’m not part of the class anymore.”

 

“You’re still her friend, right?”



Midoriya looked up at Mr. Aizawa, surprised at that statement. “I - I hope so.”



He looked away, scraggly hair falling in his face.




“Why - why aren’t you asking about what happened last night?” Midoriya mumbled. 

 

“Because I know you won’t give me a straight answer.”

 

“Aren’t you curious?”

 

“Yes.” Aizawa turned, tired brown eyes boring into green ones. “But not enough to nag you about it, considering the fragile state you’re in.”

 

“Oh - uh - thanks?” Midoriya twisted his knuckles nervously. “When’s the gala?”

 

“Tomorrow night. The teachers are going too - at least I was invited, even though I’m not really a teacher anymore. So I can give you a ride.” 

 

“T - thanks.”



There was a palpable silence as Midoriya went to sleep.








What?



He heard shuffling in his room, the rickety sounds of wood and tile beneath someone’s feet. 

 

Midoriya slowly opened his eyes -




-To see six pairs of identical eyes staring back at him. 



“AH-” A hand clamped over his mouth, attached to a stressed and slightly furious looking Five. 

 

“Shut up. We don’t have much time.”



Midoriya took in all six of his dopplegangers, all staring right back at him. He swallowed. 




“What is it?”





Chapter Text

It’s time. Is everyone here?

 

Unfortunately.

 

Present!

 

Tired, but okay.

 

I’ve been here all day!

 

 

 

What?

 

Is this… really the best idea?

 

Four -

 

I’m being serious here. I - I don’t want to drag Kacchan into anymore of our messes.

 

What do you mean ‘drag him into this mess?!’ weren’t you the one one who suggested this plan to get whole and our body back?

 

I mean - I just… I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of us.

 

 

I personally don’t care.

 

Four. This is our last chance. Our human vessel is being taken off the support tomorrow. If we don’t get free - we’ll lose our essence forever. Don’t put the life of one mere human over the entirety of our existence.

 

...I’m sorry.

 

No - Don’t be. Five's an asshole, and while he does have a point, let's all agree now. No one else gets hurt on our watch.

 

Funny you’d say that Three.

 

SHUT IT.

 

Okay. All in favor?

 

 

Good. It’s agreed on.

 

Operation puzzle is ago.





































The ride to the gala was mirroring how Bakugou felt - tense and silent. 

 

He wasn’t sure if his parents had caught on to his bad mood - but they were uncharactiristicly silent. Not even his father was blabbering into the awkward silence to try and ease some of the tension. 



Bakugou pulled at the sleeves of the suit his mother picked out (with some consultation from shitty-hair) red with a black vest. It was exactly the kind of outfit that he despised with every fiber of his being. Nevertheless, somehow, his mother had forced him to wear it. It was a gala, after all. Very fancy.




The driveway to Momo’s house was a solid five minutes long, finally circling into a little culdesac at the front of her massive house, monolithic and ominous in the twilight. Bakugou swallowed. 



He didn’t know why he was so nervous. Maybe because this was the first semblance of something normal that he was willingly participating in since… a while. Something not strange or otherworldly.

 

Thinking about the past few months made him feel shitty, so he shook his head and tried to clear it out of his mind.






Momo greeted him enthusiastically when he stepped into the main foyer, wearing a mint green dress with a purple dragonfly clasp. “I’m so glad you could make it.” She said, but her excitement sounded a bit forced, and the dark purple circles under her eyes were a clear indication that something was probably wrong.

 

“You look like shit.” Bakugou remarked, his mother smacking the top of his head in response. 

 

“Feel like it too,” The two of them turned to walk to the big event room (Momo insisted on not calling it the ballroom - that sounded way too eighteenth century) Momo looking at the pale yellow hallway walls lined with wood, head turned away from him. “Got a cold. I’m good though.”

 

That was a lie. Bakugou wasn’t stupid. But the truth was, he didn’t really have the emotional energy to ask her about it. Then again, he never really had any to begin with. 

 

The ballroom event room was crowded with various students and their parents, teachers (even Mr. Aizawa, despite the fact that he left the school??) all clustered around tables lined with food, with the center mostly being his classmates furiously dancing. 

 

“Hey Bakugou!” Kirishima flashed his irritatingly cheerful smile at him, waving, Mina right behind him. “Glad you could make it! You were so pissed off about the suit I figured you’d just burn it and leave.” 

 

“Haha, you really are the pinnacle of comedy.” Bakugou grunted. Then, the tape guy (Sero???) poked his head out of the mass of dancing bodies to look at him. 

 

“Hey, you don’t look half bad!” He remarked. Mina nodded furiously, smirking.

 

“If I weren’t already taken, I’d totally bone you.” She smirked.

 

“Aaaaand that’s my cue to go get some food.” Bakugou spat, turning on his heel towards the refreshments table. Momo looked like she wanted to go follow him, but she turned back to the other students and struck up a conversation, others seemingly oblivious to her obvious minor distress.



Bakugou took a huge sip of punch (maybe it wasn’t punch, it certainly tasted funny) to try and calm his churning stomach, turning with disgust or anger or embarrassment or SOMETHING. 

 

This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have come. 



“Nice party.” 

 

Bakugou’s head swiveled around to see Todoroki, in a pristine white suit, leaning nonchalantly on the table, a red cup in his right hand, seemingly to keep it cool.

 

“The punch’s spiked. I wouldn’t drink it if I were you.”

 

Bakugou discreetly spat the mouthful of ‘punch’ back into his cup. “Thanks.” He grunted. Todoroki nodded, not looking at him. 



They stood in awkward silence for a few minutes. 

 

“Sorry about me yelling at you a couple days ago.” Todoroki finally said. “‘Just frustrated.”

 

“You and me both.” Bakugou grunted back, reaching to put some lemonade in his cup instead.

 

“The lemonade’s also spiked.”

 

“Goddammit, what here hasn’t been fuckin messed with?!”

 

“I dunno… the water?”

 

“...Why are you drinking the punch if it’s spiked?”

 

“Because I want to meet god.”



Bakugou opened his mouth and then closed it at Todoroki’s vague response. It kinda sounded like something Seven would say -



No. Not tonight. You’re not thinking about that tonight.



“It feels weird.” Todoroki remarked. Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “This party, I mean.”

 

“Care to elaborate, Icy Hot?”

 

Todoroki snorted at the nickname. “I mean - going back to normal after everything that’s happened.” His cold blue gaze swept across the room, passing over the stained glass windows, with images of various wildlife, the dragonfly one the one his gaze stopped on. “It feels weird to me - and I hardly did anything that night. Can’t imagine what’d it be like for you. No wonder Midoriya dropped out.”

 

Bakugou didnt say anything, awkwardly taking a few sips of his water. 

 

“...Yeah.”

 

Todoroki stood, stretching his arms over his head. “Well,” He muttered. “I’m gonna go talk to Momo. See you.” 

 

The dual - haired boy walked away, leaving Bakugou alone at the refreshment table. He sighed, taking another sip of his (non alcoholic) beverage, thoughts pinging and melancholic.

 

He wouldn’t just up and leave. This was his dream. Izuku wouldn’t do that.

 

You don’t know him.

 

The dark part of his brain that screamed static and curses in strange tongues in the middle of the night whispered something to him, and he stiffened. 

 

You never knew Izuku. All you knew was what he wanted you to know, you idiot. You’re just a product of his manipulation.

 

Bakugou hissed out a curse between his teeth, and placed his hand on his temple. This was all so confusing - 



-If only he could just talk to Izuku.









“Care for a dance?”

 

The familiar soft voice caused him to jump, Bakugou turning to see Izuku, mouth upturned in a quiet smile, eyes bagged, and wearing a white-suit-sweater-vest combo, tie loosened so you could see the bones of his neck. He looked… pale. Sad. Tired.



“Oh.” Bakugou looked up from his face, and then down to Izuku’s outstretched hand, calloused and small.



 He had very small hands. 




“Not even a hello, you nerd?” He chuckled, taking it. “After like, a week of radio silence?”

 

“I needed some time to myself.” Izuku murmured, more to himself than to Bakugou. “These past few days have been… interesting.” 






The two of them walked in mutual silence to the dance floor, pinkish-red light flooding the floor as the band struck up a slower song. Bakugou looked at Izuku, who was stubbornly not looking at him.



“You dragged me out here, idiot. We going to dance or not?”

 

Izuku chuckled. “Sure. That’s why I dragged you out here.”




So, something that Bakugou figured out the minute he started doing this - he SUCKED at dancing. Literally. Sucked ass. 

 

It was one of those times where he wished he had an excuse not to dance - like a quirk that gave him two left feet or something. He was keeping careful watch of his feet, trying not to fall and kill himself (though if he survived the fall, he’d certainly kill himself out of embarrassment.

 

Left, right, left, right, 



Izuku’s hands were unnaturally cold and clammy, contrast to his rather sweaty ones. 




“What am I to you Kacchan.” He murmured, so quiet Bakugou almost didn’t catch him. “An enemy? A rival? A stranger, an acquaintance? A classmate, a friend?” he leaned in, eyes still not on his face, a strange serenity in his expression, still oh-so-quiet, like this was a secret he could never tell. “Or more then that?”

 

Bakugou arched an eyebrow. “Depends on who I’m talking to.” Left, right , and Izuku suddenly spun him around, knocking him off balance. 

 

“We’re all the same Kacchan. Even if it doesn’t seem like it.” Izuku looked down at his scarred wrists from the chains he was in when he was kidnapped. “All of us - we’re all the same person. Whether you like it or not.”

 

The way his sentence curled off at the end into some combination of a purr and a growl made his stomach curl, and his mind flashed back to Three’s crooked grin on the roof. 





You’ll be back.

 

You always come back.




Bakugou swallowed, looking away. “Can you ever be direct for once in your entire life?” Midoriya barked a laugh, face flushed and eyelids crinkled and upturned like that was the funniest joke in the world. Bakugou snarled, Izuku’s carefreeness to this entire scenario pissing him off. “I’m being fucking serious, you asshat.” Bakugou snapped. “Tell me what’s going on.”

 

“What if I didn’t?” 

 

It was a rhetorical question, but the scene right now, the way they were smushed together with all the people on the dance floor, the heat, the red lighting casting Izuku’s face in a strangely ominous shadow - and his tone? It made Bakugou’s hair stand on end. 




“I’d kill you.”




Izuku smiled, amused and sad at the same time. 




“It’d be fun to see you try.”



The band was reaching the end of the song, the steps getting more frantic as everyone twirled, skirts swishing and ties being discarded on to the floor. 



“Tell me.” Bakugou growled, voice quieter and more threatening than it had ever been. 





Izuku smiled pleasantly, no teeth for once, but somehow that smile was more terrifying than anything Bakugou had ever seen.



“What do you want to hear?”



The band stopped, and the lights came up, golden light bathing the dance floor, alive with people cheering, someone giving a toast, and generally being rowdy, happy, and carefree.



In the center of this chaotic bedazzled whirlwind of people, Izuku and Bakugou stood, still looking at each other, the eye of the storm.

 

Neither one of them had let go of the other’s hand.



“Katsuki.” Izuku murmured warningly. Katsuki sucked a breath in between his teeth. 




“Come on.” Katsuki dragged Izuku off the floor, towards one of the adjacent hallways. 




“Wh - where are we going?” Izuku yelped, all traces of the dangerous creature he was on the dance floor gone.




“We need to talk .”







Katuski yanked Izuku down the hallway, turned a corner, and shoved Izuku into the nearest closet, slamming the door behind him. The room was pitch black, save for the slivers of light that seeped under the door, illuminating Izuku’s face.

 

“Katsu -”

 

Katsuki slammed him against the wall, hands gripped tight at his shoulders. Izuku yelped, and Katsuki finally let the poison shoot up out of him, something that had been simmering in his stomach for far too long, ears and face red -







“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!?”



Izuku’s malachite eyes were wide with shock, eyes pinned on Katuki’s face as he screamed at him out of sheer raw desperation for some closure to his emotions. 

 

“WHAT - I DON’T WANNA PLAY THESE GAMES ANYMORE, DAMMIT! I JUST - STOP YANKING ME AROUND LIKE I’M A DOLL ON A STRING OR SOME FUCKING HORSESHIT LIKE THAT! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!”



Katuski inhaled to scream again, but his breath hitched, and he felt a hot pricking his eyes, feeling hot salty wetness spill out of his eyes and down his cheeks. A hand gently cupped his face, Izuku’s eyes full of sickening kindness, and Katsuki hiccuped quietly, biting back tears of weakness. 

 

“...what do-” His forehead slumped, Izuku pulling him flush with his chest as he finally, finally, let his dam of frustration break as he sobbed into his rival classmate stranger monster friend chest. “-what do - what do you -”

 

“Shh, I know. I know.” It was a mirror scene of the night where Katsuki had rescued Izuku from the league, the two of them in that lonely phone booth. “I’m sorry, okay? You’re okay, you can cry -”



Katsuki wanted so desperately to shove this thing , this monster off him, but part of his brain clung tight. Even if Izuku wasn’t like him - he was still the only person who really understood him. 





The only person who really loved him. 







And that?

 

That broke his heart the most.








When he had finally stopped the tears from flowing, and calmed himself, the two of them had slumped to the floor, Izuku’s arm was wrapped around Katsuki’s ribcage, the other on the back of his head, whispering words of comfort, reminding him of when he was younger and his mother would stay with him when he got afraid of the dark. When asking for comfort was still acceptable, because he was a kid.




Katsuki finally pulled himself together, trying to match his breathing to the person holding him in order to calm himself.



“I was going to give you answers.” Izuku mumbled. “I just… I figured if you didn’t understand them… you’d hate me less.”

 

“I don’t hate you.” Katsuki mumbled back into the shorter boy’s chest. 

 

“No feeling is final. I learned that the hard way.” 



Neither one speaks. 



“Five minutes.”

 

Izuku’s eyebrows upturned at that request.

 

“Just… before everything goes to shit. Before I can’t go back to just - just being a kid. Five minutes just for us to be two normal teenagers at a normal party in a closet, having a breakdown about exams or something fuckin’ mundane, and not the existential terror of the unknown.”

 

Izuku looked down at Katsuki. His hands, for the first time all night, had some semblance of warmth to them.

 

“...Five minutes for us to just be here and be normal.”



Katsuki didn’t look at Izuku’s face when he said that.



“Okay.”



Then he did.



“Five minutes.”








 

 

 











 

 

“Heya.” Todoroki pried himself out of the mass of people over to one of the folding chairs Momo was sitting at. “Some party.”

 

“Yeah.” Momo smiled at him, but it was tinged with sadness. “Indeed.”

 

“You good?” Todroki shrugged off his white jacket, the absence of the itchy fabric a relief to his skin. “You look like shit.”

 

“That’s the second time tonight someone said that to me.” Momo chuckled. Her eyes drifted down to a green notebook she was holding, before darting back up to his face. “What brings you to my corner of the swamp?”

 

“I just… kinda wanted to make sure you’re doing okay?” Todoroki mumbled more to himself then Momo. “You just seem down. And you’re my friend. I care, you know?” 

 

Momo chuckled. “Thanks.” She said. 



Todoroki and Momo sat in silence for a few minutes before Uraraka came up to them.

 

“Hey guys - have y’all seen Deku?”

 

“Oh, Midoriya?” Mina and Kirishima walked over to the table where they were sitting, hand in hand, faces red from laughing (and maybe the punch). “Last time I saw him, Bakugou was dragging him down the hallway back there.”

 

“What?” Todoroki exclaimed. “Why?”

 

“I dunno, probably to make out with him in a closet or something -”

 

Momo stood up abruptly, knocking her chair over, expression stone cold and fearful.

 

“Which hallway.”



Mina and Kirishima exchanged glances. “Uh, Momo -”

 

Which hallway Kirishima?! ” Kirishima took a step back at Momo’s unusually harsh tone, Todoroki’s stomach curling in on itself.

 

“I - the east one?”

 

Momo shot by them, power-walking across the room, Todoroki trailing close behind.

 

“Momo -” Her fists were clenched. “What’s going on?”

 

“This doesn’t concern you Todoroki.” Momo replied coldly. “Leave.”

 

“Momo,”  She tried to brush by him, but he held out an arm to block her. “Momo, tell me what’s going on.”

 

“No.”

 

“But I -”

 

“THIS DOESN’T FUCKING INVOLVE YOU, SHOUTO!!” Todoroki took a step back at that, Momo’s almond eyes contorted in barely concealed rage and hate. 

 

To him or herself, he had no idea. 



“It doesn’t, and it never will.”

 

He face softened, and a tear slipped out of the corner or her eye. 

 

“I don’t want it to.”

 

He didn’t move.

 

“So just - please leave this alone.”



She turned, leaving a stupified Todoroki standing there. He quickly regained his senses and went running into the east hall, but two bodyguards stopped him. 

 

“Go no further.” The first one said. “This area is prohibited.”

 

“But -”

 

“If you resist, we will escort you out of the premises.” The second guard replied. “So hault. Or we will make you.”

 

Todoroki clenched his fists but backed off. 




What the fuck is going on?















Empty white hallways. 



Windows on lockdown. 

 

Steel doors. 

 

Guards, armed to the teeth.

 

They were all things Momo was familiar with. 



But for once in her life, she didn’t despise them. 








Anger.

 

Frustration, giving way to determination.

 

POWER.



They were all things Bakugou was familiar with. 




And for once in his life, he was going to use them to help someone else.











Melancholy.

 

Cages. Traps. 

 

The sirens call of death. 





And for once in his life, he finally understood why he was here.








Because Izuku Midoriya has been dead for sixteen years. 













Today is the day he lives.


















And now, Bakugou and Midoriya faced Momo, on the top of the stairs, blocking passage to the steel door that locked away the holding room. The last obstacle.











“It was only ever going to end one way.” Momo said, a gun in her hand.










Midoriya smiled. 

















“For once, you’re right.”











And Momo lunged down the stairs, pulling the trigger -



Midoriya blinked.

 

The gun mechanics jammed, and Momo quickly twisted around kicking Bakugou in the face instead. She pulled a knife from her leg, slashing at Bakugou, only for him to catch her hand, and deflect her jab. She retaliated with a kick to his shin, causing him to go tumbling to the ground, pulling on her hair to bring her down with him. 

 

“Izuku - get in there!” He screamed as Momo lunged for his throat. Izuku nodded, turning heel and running, only for two guards to tackle him out of the shadows. He twisted and turned out of their grasp, turning heel and running down one of the endless corridors that snaked through the Yaoyorozu household like the internal organs of some great beast. He jumped off the wall, zig-zagging frantically to dodge their bullets, and then quickly skidded backwards, and kicked them both in their groans. They both shrieked in agony, but Midoriya silenced them quickly with two efficient and clean neck snaps. 




Meanwhile, Bakugou and Momo were a thrashing, bloody pile on the ground, biting and clawing at one another. Bakugou didn’t want to use his quirk at such close range, since it’d most like permanently cripple her. Then, Momo lunged for the knife on the ground, Bakugou yanking her hand away from it as they tussled, rolling, towards the knife, only for Momo to grab it and -





-A bright light barreled towards her -





Momo ducked at the oncoming train, bracing for impact against the hard tracks -



But nothing came.



Momo opened her eyes to see darkness. Where had the train gone -




Midoriya grabbed her from behind, breaking the illusion, pulling her down and grabbing the knife, slamming it into the fabric of her dress, pinning her there. Bakugou scrambling to get up as the two of them started to run to the door -









 -A red alarm started to blare, and all the attendees looked up in confusion, Todoroki included. An automated voice issued over the intercom, far too calm and composed for the chaotic noise that was whirling through the room.

 

“Attention. The household is now on lockdown due to a breach. Please remain calm. I repeat, the household is now on lockdown due to a breach. Please remain calm.”



What breach?! Todoroki thought. 



Then it hit him.






Midoriya. 










Bakugou felt the sting of a bullet graze his ear, Momo yanking the knife out of her torn dress, and shearing off the rest of the dress’s length. “Midoriya Izuku, don’t you FUCKING DARE GO IN THERE!!!”




Both Midoriya and Bakugou ignored her enraged and terrified screams, and up the stairs, Midoriya waving a hand, causing the door to open -


































“Oh.”




















The sight of his friend suspended in a tank full of orange fluid in the room was more shocking than he had originally anticipated, despite what Izuku had told him. But the more he looked at him, the more it sunk in that this Izuku - was the real one. His features were so much more clear then the illusion Izuku’s - like someone had finally cleaned off a pair of dirty glasses. 




The seven pieces of Izuku’s soul clustered around the tank in a semicircle, clearly being in so much pain from being so close to an area they weren’t supposed to get to. Bakugou’s hand brushed against the cool glass, looking at this thing before him.



“That’s it, right?” He looked at Izuku - at One. “The real you. Your body. Not just soul fragments.” 

 

One nodded. “We can’t break me out. It’s like two opposing magnets. The closer we get, the more effort it takes just to stay corporeal. Hell, it takes a lot to one of us to stay corporeal no matter how far away from the body we are. It was a nightmare when it was all six.”

 

“That whole night was a nightmare.” Four mumbled. 



Bakugou turned to look at Three - trademark smirk wiped clean from the fucker’s face.



“I could leave you in here.” Bakugou said. “I could leave you all in here to rot.” 

 

Three smiled in a way that made his stomach turn and his ears turn red. 




“We both know you won’t.”



Well - he wasn’t wrong. 








He raised his hand to break the glass -





Momo rushed in, having broken Five’s encryption on the door, looking at the scene before her in horror. “KATSUKI, NO!!”




He brought his fist down, full force. The tank exploded, and the blast sent the two of them flying backwards into the wall -




































































 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Bakugou opened his eyes again, the illusions were gone. Only the real - the whole - Izuku was left, laying bare on the cold floor. Bakugou dashed over to the shivering boy, pulling it off his shoulders and throwing it on Izuku’s. “Hey - hey - are you -”




Izuku’s eyes opened, a swirling and hypnotic and terrifying shade of green that pierced straight through his head into his heart. 



The eyes of someone whole and powerful.




“...Katsuki Bakugou.” Izuku breathed, voice raw from disuse. “You came to save me.”



Katsuki’s voice hitched, hands trembling as he helped steady Izuku. “Yeah - we fuckin made it.”



Then, both heads turned to Momo, slumped and curled up against the wall, violently shivering and scream-crying.

 

“My - my parents - oh god no they’re going to let me die down there - I don’t want to get thrown in there again - I failed - I failed - I’m going to die what am I going to -”



“Yaoyorozu Momo.” Momo shrieked and sobbed and curled up against the wall at Izuku addressing her by her first name. 



“Come with us.” 



“What?” Bakugou shouted over the approaching footsteps. “She just tried to kill us!”



“Please,” Izuku said, ignoring Katsuki. “You know what’ll happen if you stay here.”



She didn’t respond, still curled in on herself.



“Please Momo.”



Momo stood. 




And pulled a bottle of glass with some strange liquid in it out of her neck. 



“Stand back.” She growled. “I’m going to blow this fucking wall down.”




She tossed her impromptu firebomb at the wall, blowing it up so hard that the rubble shot inward. Bakugou and Midoriya both peered out the hole in the wall. 





“We gotta get out of this house.” Bakugou said. Izuku nodded his head, face strangely calm. 





The trio, thanks to some thick cords that were in the holding room, rappelled down the wall and ran out of the mansion, down the city, until they were a good mile away, fancy clothes grubby, and thourghly out of breath. Bakugou dragged them into a dark alleyway out of sight, and they all slumped against the sooty brick wall. 



Then, Bakugou flipped over, forcing Momo into a chokehold. She scratched at his arms, but he held firm, an alien fury in him.

 

“What the fuck ,” he hissed. “Was THAT?!

 

“I - I ca -” Momo choked on her own words, spittle flying out of her mouth as her face turned blue. “I-”

 

“Both of you, stop.” Bakugou released Momo from the chokehold, both turning to look at Midoriya, face strangely serene and stern. 

 

“Momo.” 



The tone caused Momo to look downward at the ground, fat, hollow tears running down her face. “I -” She blubbered. “I’m - sorry-”

 

Midoriya didn’t move, eyes unblinking. 

 

“I - they - they would have killed me, Bakugou,” She sobbed. “I - they never wanted a girl - they never wanted - me! I wasn’t - I didn’t -”



Bakugou placed a hand on her shoulder.




“I - I’m still mad.” He mumbled. “But right now, we need to get out of town. Save the explanation for later.”

 

“R - Right.” She sniffed, pulling herself up. “I can - I can - can get us some bus money.”



They both turned to look at Midoriya, who hadn’t moved. 

 

“And get him some clothes.” Bakugou remarked. “Because all he’s got is my jacket.” 

 

“Oh right - sorry.”










The bus stop to Hosu was empty, as to be expected at this time of night. Momo was getting the tickets, while Bakugou and Midoriya - the real Midoriya - sat on a bench.





“...The entire time,” He breathed. “You could have told me.”

 

“I was worried you would hate me. And also didn’t want you to know because I was mad. Or at least parts of me were still mad at you.”



Katsuki looked away.




“Are you mad?” He murmured quietly.





Izuku smiled. 



“No.”




Izuku placed his hand over Katuski’s palm.




“Are you mad at me?”




Katsuki’s eyes were fixated on the smoggy sky above them. On the full moon.





“...Am I pulling away?”



Izuku looked down at their hands, then up at the moon.





“Yeah. You’re not.”





Chapter Text

a few things before we start

 

1: the intermission playlist 

 

2: a refrence of all seven midoriyas

 

enjoy

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone felt it. 

 

 

 

 



It didn’t matter who you were, or where you were. It was like a hole had been split open in the universe, torn wide for everyone to see - but in a split second, that feeling was gone.





 

 

 

All Might, staring at the ceiling of his apartment, felt a chill go up his spine. The shudder was instantaneous, like being doused in ice cold water. 





 

 

 

Aizawa, hurriedly trying to figure out why the gala he was attending was being evacuated for no apparent reason, froze in his tracks. It was the same feeling he had noticed in his semi-conscious state at the USJ.

 

Of something old and powerful. 








 

 

Nedzu’s ears perked up at the sensation, and he looked up from his paperwork, black eyes narrowed to slits. He smiled faintly, knowing immediately who was behind it.






 

 

 

The only one who didn’t flinch from the uncaring cold of the void was Todoroki, eyes firmly fixed on the Yaoyorozu mansion as the crowd was pushed back by bodyguards. If he squinted, he could see a silhouette staring out a hole in the wall, spirals where it’s eye should be boring into his skull.






When Fuyumi wasn’t looking, he slipped away. 














 


 

 

 

 

 

 

The bus ride was tense, silent. 



Bakugou still wasn’t looking at her, eyes firmly fixed on the receding city behind them, bathed in purple lights. Midoriya had long since fallen asleep, too big denim jacket Momo had created engulfing his lanky and malnourished frame. 

 

Momo smiled, just a tiny bit. When Midoriya was asleep, he looked a little less monstrous. 

 

Almost… peaceful. 



She could almost forget what he had done with that face. 




Eventually, the bus let them off at a decrypt bus stop. It looked as if no one had been in it for years, ivy covering a good deal of the wall. Momo paid the half - asleep ticketmaster, and the trio walked. 



And walked. 



Far away from the city, into the strange woods surrounding the small town they had ridden too. 





After god knows how long, Midoriya stopped. Bakugou turned to look at him, scarlet eyes narrowed in suspicion and slight panic. “We need to keep going.” He grumbled. “They could still find us, we’re not too far off.” 



“My feet are tired.” Ignoring Bakugou’s indignant scoff, Midoriya plopped himself right down on the grassy carpet underneath him. As if neither of them were there. “We should rest now.”

 

“Since when were you the one calling the shots?” Bakugou huffed, but sat down, making a brief notion for Momo to as well. 









The fire that they had hastily set up crackled before the trio, illuminating each of their faces in soft golden light. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, Momo’s stomach churned with nerves. And it didn’t help by the way Midoriya stared at her, never blinking, spiral like eyes shrinking and contracting with every blow of the wind - almost like some kind of animalistic statue. 



No one spoke for five minutes, and seventeen seconds. Momo was counting.






“Spill.” Bakugou finally remarked, eyes never leaving the fire he was poking with a stick, occasionally using his quirk to stoke the fire. 




Momo swallowed. 




She knew she had to - to try and at least explain why. But… 

 

It kind of hurt to talk about.




“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to.” Midoriya remarked, eyes never leaving her face. 

 

“How can you say that?! Aren’t you mad or some shit?!” Bakugou spat back , fists clenched tight around the stick he was holding.



“Can’t you see Katsuki, of course I am. I am completely engulfed with rage.” Midoriya replied, tone and face neutral. Bakugou huffed, blowing air out of his nose. 

 

“Well, it sure doesn’t fucking feel like it.” 

 

No one said anything for another two minutes, and forty three seconds.






And to everyone’s surprise, especially her own, Momo took a deep breath, and began.






















A long time ago, Momo had read a book about holes shaped like people in a wall. She didn't remember too much about it, other then that it was scary, but one thing stuck with her to this very day. When they people went into the holes shaped like them, they came out twisted and wrong, the holes in the wall slowly shrinking and contorting as the person scooted through it. 

 

That was a good way to describe her relationship with her parents. seeming to fit just fine at first, but the longer she was in it, the more contorted she became, until, when she looked in the mirror, she didn't recognize herself anymore.

 

Where was the girl who was happy to just be here? Where did her cheerfulness go? 

 

Well, a certain green haired THING could answer that question.













The first time Momo had seen him, she was seven years old. 



There was a room that she had been told she wasn’t allowed to go in, two months ago. She vaguely recalled it being her Father’s study, but now a bunch of other people went in there too! A lot of men with white coats and glasses.

 

Why wasn’t she allowed in? 




Was it because it was a surprise? Momo thought as she lay in her bed that night. It is my birthday tomorrow. And they promised me a big surprise! I bet it’s in there. 




Now, she knew that you weren’t supposed to sneak peaks at gifts. Momo had learned that at a young age. But she was just so curious!!



Maybe it’s a giant cake , she thought, tip-toeing to her father’s study, or a huge cat! Like clifford the dog. 




Momo slowly creaked open the doorknob, almost above her head…




She didn’t exactly remember what she saw in there. Someone in… something. No matter how much she wracked her brain. But she did vividly remember getting dragged out of the room by her mother, yelling something incomprehensible to her.









That was the first time she had gotten hit. 











(Turns out, she was getting a cat for her birthday. Only she had broken a rule. So her mother dumped it on the street. She never figured out what happened to it.) 














After eavesdropping, Momo learned that no one who went in there could remember what whatever was in that tank looked like. And any pictures they took were static, and any sketches incomprehensible messes. No one knew what that thing was. 





Especially not her. But she tried to put the incident out of her mind.








 

 

 

 

Momo wasn’t quite sure when Izu showed up. He was simply there, a constant presence to her. 

 

Izu was her imaginary friend, green haired, freckled, and wearing a stitched together, oversized jacket. He stuttered when he spoke, and laughed a lot. Momo didn’t have any friends you see, since her parents never really let her leave the house. So Izu was all she had.



She brought him up at the dinner table a lot, until her father told her sharply that ‘imaginary friends were unbecoming of a young lady to have’. She still talked with Izu of course, but she never brought him up around her parents again. 







 

 

 

“Why do I have to be homeschooled?” Momo asked at her eighth birthday. Her parents looked at each other. 

 

“We want you to have the best education possible for you,” Her father said absent-mindly, picking at his teeth with a toothpick. “And we don’t want you fraternizing with any of the other hooligans your age.”

 

“But I’m lonley!” Momo whined, stabbing the fish on her plate. “I don’t have anyone to talk to.”

 

“You can always talk to us,” Her mother replied, saccharine warmth in her eyes. 

 

“Someone my own age!” 

 

“Momo -” Her mother stood, all warmth gone. “We will not discuss this any further.”

 

“No, we’re not done! Why are you guys being so stupid about this?!” Momo slammed her fist down on the dinner table, causing her knife to fly forward, and embed itself on the wall, a few inches above her father’s head.




Silence throughout the dining hall. One of the candles on her cake on the back table extinguished. 




 

 

 

 

Her father stood up.



 

 

Grabbed her by the arm.




 

 

And hauled her down the hall. 




Momo kicked and screamed all the way down, down the spiral staircase that lead to the boiler room, but her tiny child arms were no match for her dad’s huge and calloused ones. They rounded the corner, looking at one of the starcases that didn’t lead anywhere, the one with the cupboard underneath. Her father opened the tiny door, and shoved her in. 



“You’ll stay in there, until you learn to be a loving daughter.” Her father spat. 



She crawled rapidly for the door, but he slammed it on her face, leaving her in complete and total blackness. She couldn’t even see the hand in front of her face. She pounded and scratched at the door, screaming all the while. 













Then, she felt the first prickle on her back.



The prickle of tiny legs. 



Tiny legs of an insect, all over her, chirping and screeching filling her ears as the thousands of bugs underneath the staircase began to crawl all over her -















She didn’t stop screaming for a long time. 














 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her mother left a cage with a dragonfly in it in her room while she was asleep. When she finally woke to look at it, there was a note next to it.






  • To remind you of what happens when you hurt us. 










Izu comforted her as she sobbed. 













 

 

 

 

 

Every time that she came back from the cupboard, Izu was always waiting on the windowsill, to offer her comfort after the darkness for so long. But he never came down there with her, which struck Momo, at the time, as rather selfish. 

 

She wanted so badly for someone to stave away the lonley hours in the dark, filled with nothing but the incessant presence of dragonflies all over her. 

 

But she never said anything. And nobody ever came. 







 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a Tuesday night when it happened.

 

Momo had broken a vase earlier that morning. Frankly, she thought that was kind of a dumb reason to put her in the cupboard, but whatever. It’s not like there was much she could do anyways.

 

But it was strange though. Her parents had been harsher lately, probably due to the fact that the thing in the room hadn’t been going well. She asked Izu about it, but he didn’t answer. 



She was eleven at the time. 






She was in the middle of calming herself down by sewing, when her mother burst into her room. Momo jumped, dropping the needle she was holding, right into her toe. Izu was distracted in seeing if she was okay, that he didn’t notice her mother staring at him.




Momo looked up at her mother. 






Her mother looked at Izu. 



And when she blinked, he was gone.




After that was a blur. 




There was a lot of shouting, and Momo being shaken and pressed for answers. Something about the boy in the tank - but the memory became crystal clear once her father burst in. He’d screamed at her, and hit her, until she told them everything she knew about Izu, about her best friend. 



And then she was in the closet for a long, long time.












Because Izu was the boy in the tank. And she was an idiot for not noticing.




 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

The last time she’d seen Izu was when she was twelve. It was after her grandma’s funeral. Her parents had cried both there and back, and the funeral had been somber and quiet. Her grandmother was a beloved business leader, known for her kind policies towards workers. 



But Momo couldn’t bring herself to cry. She’d only met her grandmother a couple of times after all. 



So mostly? She felt numb.



That was all she felt these days. 






And when she got back, shedding her black dress for her comfortable pajamas, she was surprised to see Izu on her bed. Or as she was told his real name was, Midoriya Izuku. 




“Don’t.” She spat before he could say anything. “I don’t want to hear it.”




All these years, and he still wore the same stitched together hoodie, shades of faded yellow and blue. Still had the same hair.

 

But he felt different. Perhaps because she knew who he really was. 



“...I’m sorry.” 



Momo didn’t look at him. 



“Why.” She mumbled. Izu - Midoriya - looked at her.



“Why are you so intent on ruining my family’s life.”



Midoriya looked away. 

 

“Everything was FINE until you showed up, everything was FINE AND PEACHY!! My parents were FINE, I was FINE, everything was FINE! !” Momo slammed her fist into the wall, leaving a sizable dent, pricks of pain running up her arm. 



Neither side said anything for three minutes and twenty seven seconds. Momo looked down at her fist, knuckles red and bruised. And then her arm, covered with years of scars from dragonflies burrowing into her skin.



And the new scars, needle thin and deep.



No one had caused them but her.




“It wasn’t fine,  Momo.” Midoriya whispered, more to himself than anyone else. “This would have happened to you regardless -”





Momo punched him in the face.


















 

Izuku Midoriya never appeared to her again after that.









 

 


 

 

 

 

 

And then she was thirteen. It was the longest she had gone without getting in the cupboard - six months. 

 

She hadn’t told her parents about the last time she saw Midoriya. 



 

 

Then, at dinner, something was brought up.





“UA high.” Her mother said. Momo looked up from her fish.

“Pardon?” She asked. 

 

“He’s at UA high.” She replied. Momo blinked, keeping her face completely neutral.

 

“Who’s… he?”



 

 

(She already knew the answer.)



 

 

“We need to observe him.” Her father chimed in. “And we need prolonged contact. You’re just the right age - you being at UA wouldn’t raise any kind of suspicion.” 

 

Momo swallowed. “You mean… you’re putting me into UA?”

 

“Unless you have any objections to it?” Her mother’s tone made it clear that Momo was to have NO objections. So she shook her head.






And then she was alone, in her lavender pajamas. The night was warm, so she had opened a window, letting the wind blow her silk curtain askew. 



She looked over at the little doll that had been sitting on her desk for years. A little Izu doll she had started when she was eleven. 

 

She hadn’t touched it in years. It had a fine sheen of dust all over it, propped up next to her dragonfly’s cage. 

 

After all these years, it still wasn’t dead. 

















 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“And… you know what happened next.” Momo mumbled, looking away from the two boys staring at her from across the fire. “I went to UA to spy on you, and it went about as well as you’d expect.” 



Bakugou didn’t say anything, head turned to look at the trees, thoughts and stomach churning. That was… really hard to listen to. 

 

“And you knew about this?” He turned to Midoriya, who’s unflinching stare finally broke from Momo’s face to look at him. “About… what was going on back there? At Momo’s house?”



Midoriya nodded.



“W - why didn’t you say anything?!” Bakugou spat. “You could have just told me - and if not me, then like, some authority or some shit!”

 

“Parts of me… did not want to.” Midoriya replied matter-of-factly. “I was quite angered.” 

 

“I don’t blame you.” Bakugou muttered, head swiveling back to Momo, who’s knees were pulled flush with her chest. 



“If you want me to leave, I will.” She confessed. “B - but - don’t make me go back there.” 



Bakugou exhaled, feeling a headache coming on. From stress, pity, guilt, or anger, he wasn’t sure.

 

“I won’t.” He shrugged, looking away. “But I’m not letting this slide either. You should have said something.” 

 

“I know.” Momo mumbled. “I’m sorry.”



“You should not feel the need to apologize.” Midoriya interjected. “Much of this could not be helped. And I am partially to blame for my stubbornness to ask for help.” 

 

“Yeah, but -” Midoriya fixed Momo with a hard stare until she looked away. “I’ll - I’ll go patrol. Make sure no one finds us.”



She stood up, and disappeared into the underbrush. 








Then, it was just Bakugou and Midoriya. 







He wasn’t sure how to feel about this new Midoriya - the real one. The way he spoke - the cadence - something about it felt off. He made Bakugou’s skin crawl. 




“Hey.” 

 

Bakugou looked at Midoriya, who was staring into the dying embers. 

 

“Are you scared of me?”




Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “‘Fuck kind of a question is that?” He shot back. Midoriya smiled, if only for a slight second. 



“I want to see. Even after all this.”




Bakugou looked away.




“Would you be angry if I said I was?”



“No.”

 

“Then yeah. You’re a bit of a creepy pisshead.”

 

“Am I detestable?”

 

“What’s with the big words - and the weird ass questions?”

 

“I -” Midoriya inhaled, the first semblance of emotion - insecurity - of the night flickering across his face. “I do not quite know.”







Bakugou looked away to the darkening sky, stars sprinkled throughout. 



 

 

 

 

 

“You and me both.”






















Chapter Text

In his line of work, Aizawa had become accustomed to people shouting at him. It didn’t mean he liked it, though. And that irritability at being yelled at was coming right back to bite him in the ass when a livid Mrs. Yayorozu stormed up to him after her mansion had been evacuated and the police were doing a thorough search.



“Where is my daughter.” Mrs. Yayorozu snapped. Aizawa sighed internally. 

 

“Ma’am, we don’t know. The police have already told you this -” 

 

“What I want to know, is  you don’t have any way of tracking her or that -” She inhaled sharply, fists clenching and unclenching, “Devil child  that kidnapped her.”



Aizawa opened his mouth to speak, but a familiar calm voice cut him off. “Mrs. Yumi, please,” 




Nedzu stood behind the duo, paws folded calmly behind his back. “I know this is very stressful for you -”

 

“- Obviously, what, are you blind as well as dumb?” Mrs Yayorozu snapped back. 

 

“ - But so far, we haven’t found any signs of a struggle. It’s very likely that Ms. Yayorozu went with Midoriya Izuku willingly.”



Aizawa scowled at Nedzu’s clinical tone. 



“WHY, on all of god’s green earth, would she go with that - that thing  willingly?! The Momo I know wouldn’t ever do something like that!”

 

“Then perhaps you don’t know your daughter as well as you think you do.” Nedzu replied calmly. Mrs. Yayorozu’s face flushed a brilliant shade of crimson, huffed, before her screechy voice dropped to a low whisper. 



“When you find that boy, I want him brought back here, do you understand?” She hissed. “No jail, no court. Bring him to me and my family. We’ll decide what to do with him.”

 

“Ma’am, I’m afraid that request isn’t your decision,” Aizawa cut in, ignoring the protective fury boiling in his stomach. “You have no say in our legal system.”

 

“Might you forget that the Yayorozu family is the second richest in all of Japan?” She countered. “It’s not up to you what happens. We’ve got the money to make it happen, and you don’t have the money to stop us.”

 

“Both of you, please.” Nedzu cut in, holding out his hands to separate the two. “We will settle this matter later. For now, We’re going to try the best we can to locate your daughter and Mr. Midoriya, alright?”



Nedzu held the livid woman’s furious brown eyes, before she finally turned away with a huff and stormed back to her husband, both in tears. 



Aizawa looked at Nedzu, eyes still following the couple, feeling a familiar irritation at the man animal being before him for his rash decisions.

 

But it had occurred to him over the past few hours that Nedzu might have known more than he let on.

 

“Perhaps we should go somewhere else to talk.” Nedzu said, almost as if he was reading Aizawa’s mind. He nodded. 






“You knew about this.” Aizawa said when the two of them were far enough away from the house so that no one would hear. “You knew that boy had something to do with this family. Why didn’t you tell someone?”

 

Nedzu didn’t respond for a few seconds. 




“It is… a rather long story.” Nedzu began. 

 

“Then tell me.” Aizawa shot back. "I’ve got all the time in the world."

 

Nedzu sighed, and began. 





“You see, the Yayorozu family has been a subject of my investigations for many years now, as well as several other rich families that came off as a bit… skeezy. But this family was different.”

 

“Not too long ago, I discovered a report when hacking into their archives,” Nedzu ignored Aizawa’s gasp of surprise, “That was very… interesting.”

 

“An archeology excavation, formally sponsored by this family, in Hokkaido,” Nedzu began, still looking away, “Only, they found something strange in the northernmost cave. A little boy.”

 

“Only he wasn’t.”



“He could still move, and talk, but his vitals showed that he was dead. No heartbeat, no blood pressure, nothing. Like an animated corpse. And the more time he spent around the archaeologists, the more reality started to bend around them. Until one tuesday afternoon.”



Nedzu held up a photo for Aizawa to see. Aizawa stared as the photograph came into focus in his blurry vision, and he gasped. 

 

“Kuroko Takashi, thirty seven. Found dead in his tent, like this.” The photo showed him twisted into an unnatural triangle shape, limbs twisted to the point where he could see the bone almost poking out of the skin, skin torn open from the force of being stretched in such an unnatural shape. “There was only one person at that camp that could have done that.”

 

“But the sponsor family, instead of being horrified… were intrigued.” 



“The boy was then taken to the Yayorozu’s, and put into stasis. But then, another odd thing happened. Everyone who went in to look at the boy would forget his face, his body, any distinguishing features. Photos of him would smudge, and drawings?” Nedzu shook his head. “They turned into indistinguishable scribbles of monsters no one was meant to see.”

 

“But then, somehow, someone discovered that his brain - one which previously showed nothing, was active. And what’s more, it was almost as if he had more than one, the way his brain was acting. The boy was alive - and somehow, mentally projecting his way out of the tank.”



“So a program started. People who were in debt to the Yayorozu’s were told that their debts would be wiped clean, if only they do this one simple thing - act as a surrogate caretaker to twenty thousand different children, all suspected of being the ‘devil child’. Thanks to Grandma Yayorozu’s quirk, all of the children taken from the orphanage thought that the debtors were their real parents - though the strain of modifying so many memories ended up being what did Grandma Yaoyorozu in, in the end.”

 

 

 

“And then, he was found. The child they were looking for.”



“Izuku Midoriya.” Aizawa finished. Nedzu nodded, and continued. 



 

 

“Which brings us back to me. You see, when I found this, I wanted to take it to the police. But they stopped me, before I could, and gave me an ultimatum. They had no more use for the boy - he was too volatile, too mentally unstable, too dangerous, for them to train him into being their attack dog. So they told me, to either kick him out of UA, or… or they’d shut down the school.”

 

Aizawa sucked in a breath. “They can do that?!” He exclaimed. “But - that’d cause an uproar!”

 

“Yumi Yayorozu wasn’t kidding when she said that she had the money to punish Mr. Midoriya himself. Her family can pretty much do whatever they want, just because of how rich they are. Why do you think the family’s stayed around so long? They’ve been dodging the law for decades.” 

 

Aizawa swallowed. “But… what about taking them to court?”

 

“Bold of you to assume the court isn’t bribed.” Nedzu replied. “UA isn’t the only one with connections in the legal system.”

 

 

 

“And so,” Nedzu plowed on, “I was faced with a crossroads. Keep my ideals and try and protect a being beyond my control, or loose one loose cannon and keep a huge facet of the hero system running.” Nedzu finally looked at him, the first semblance of real regret Aizawa had ever seen from him painted across his face. “You know what I chose.”

 

Aizawa looked away, the information sinking in. 



 

 

 

“I thought you were just being stupid.” Aizawa mumbled finally. 

 

“I was, in a way. I was scared - scared of what this family could do. And in a way, scared of that boy.” Nedzu turned away again, face blank once more. “He isn't like you - or even me. I’m not even sure he’s human.”

 

Aizawa’s stomach turned at that statement. “Then - then what is he?” He asked. 



Nedzu smiled sadly. 

 

“I have no idea.” 







“Sir,” The two of them looked up to see one of the detectives holding a clipboard, staring at them. “I hate to interrupt - but we’ve got more bad news.”

 

“Oh fucking hell, what is it now.” Aizawa groaned. Nedzu held up a paw for the man to continue. 

 

“Two more have gone missing.” Aizawa perked up at that, eyes narrowed in fear. “Your students Bakugou Katsuki, and Todoroki Shouto.”

 

“Goddammit ,” Aizawa hissed, infuriated, “They probably went to chase after Midoriya.” 

 

“Well, then,” Nedzu stood up as well, walking over to the man. “Let the police department know that we have three missing children, and one possible fugitive. Contact their parents if you can.”

 

“Midoriya’s mother left,” Aizawa butted in. Nedzu frowned. 

 

“Change that to two possible fugitives. And do not harm them.” Nedzu turned to Aizawa, handing him his notes from his investigations. “I’m putting you on the case.” He remarked, to Aizawa’s surprise. “You seem to know Midoriya best. I think he would listen to you.”

 

Aizawa looked down at the notes, then back up at Nedzu. 



“I could see where you were coming from with this whole expulsion mess,” He finally said, “But I still don’t forgive you.”

 

Nedzu smiled sadly. “I can live with one more rejected apology on my conscious.” He replied. 

 

And for once, his black, empty eyes showed some semblance of truth to them. 








 


 

 

 

 

 

The next morning was about as awkward as the bus ride. 



 

 

Bakugou was the first to wake up, quickly blinking out the fuzzies of sleep from his eyes. The fire he had lit had long since died down, and the sleeping bag that Momo had made was soaked with morning dew. 

 

“This is why I hate campouts,” He grumbled, shaking his head to wake himself up, before taking a deep breath and -



 

 

“WAKE UP FUCKOS!!” 

 

 

 

Momo jerked awake, instinctively scuttling away from the source of the noise, crab walk style. Midoriya rolled over, head popping out of his oversized sleeping bag as he blinked blearly. “Whazgoinon-” He slurred, before rubbing his eyes and turning to the source of the nose. “Katsuki - really?”

 

 

“Hey, that’s what you assholes get for sleeping in until -” Bakugou reached for his pant pocket, before remembering that he had thrown it out last night. “Fuck, what time is it?”

 

“Early.” Midoriya replied coolly, pulling himself out of his sleeping bag. “Probably not past seven, but certainly not five either.”

 

“Or, you could just say six AM like a normal person.” Bakugou grumbled. Midoriya sniffed in reponse. 

 

 

 

 

“Sooooooo,” Momo started to break the awkward silence, “Who wants breakfast? I sure do.”

 

“I am alright, thank you.” Midoriya rolled back over to sleep, but not before Bakugou yanked him up. 

 

“Hey, we gotta get moving, broccoli head. Get your ass up, so we can get to -” Bakugou did a mental double take. “Wait, where are we going again?”

 

 

 

“Away from the police.” Said Momo. 

 

“Hokkaido.” Said Midoriya at the same time. 



 

 

Momo and Bakugou stared at him. 





"...What?"



Chapter Text

“Hokko...kaido?” Bakugou asked, thin eyebrows arched in confusion. “Why do we need to go there?”

 

Midoriya looked away, spiral eyes betraying nothing but a slight hint of sleepiness. “I… don’t know if I want to tell you.” He admitted. 

 

Bakugou scoffed. “If you’re dragging our asses all the way out there you better give us a good fucking reason.”

 

 

 

Silence. Momo poked the sooty campfire with a stick, the fire long burnt out.

 

 

“...There was… a boy.” Midoriya mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

 

“Oh great, it’s another round of story time.” Bakugou grumbled, but went silent once Midoriya started talking.

 

“He was poor… and his mother was gone. He didn’t have any friends.” Twisting his fingers so tight that Midoriya was poised to dislocate them, he continued. “No one would miss him if he was gone, right?”

 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Momo spike up. 

 

“On a cloudy Thursday, that boy went exploring in a cave, that some adults had been digging out for a while.”

 

Midoriya looked up, smiling sadly.

 

 

 

“He never came back.”

 

 

“Instead, it was me who came out of that cave.”


 

 

Momo was the first to catch on, brown eyes wide with disbelief.


“Midoriya…” She breathed. “What did you do to that kid?”

 

 

 

 

No response.

 

 

 

“Midoriya -“ She grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him close, the smaller boy dwarfed by her massive height. “What did you do to him?!”


 

 

“He’s still there.”


She dropped him.


“His spirit still resides in that cave, unable to rest when something was stolen from him.”



He finally made eye contact with the both of them, red rimmed green eyes meeting brown and red.


 

 

“I was selfish.”



Bakugou wanted to say something but he’s at a loss for words.


“I just wanted to know what it was like… to be like you, I guess.” Midoriya wrapped his arms around himself, like he was trying to shield himself from his own past mistakes. “But it doesn’t work.”

 

He flexed his pale, bloodless fingers. “This body is dying. If I stay in it - the boy will have nothing to return to.”


“You stole it.” Bakugou hissed, finally snapping out of his shocked daze. “You stole that kids life.”


 

 

 

 

 

“I did.”


Bakugou dove for the smaller boy, aiming for the throat. Momo cried out in alarm as the two of them went tumbling down to the ground, his hands raised right above Midoriya’s throat, a mirror image of what Four did to wake him up all those months ago.

 

“Are you going to hurt me?” Midoriya asked calmly. “By all means, go ahead.”

 

“SHUT UP!” He spat, familiar and old rage flashing in his eyes. “That was a KID, dammit! And you just fucking took everything from him!! What if someone did that to you?!”


“That’s why I want to make it right!!”


Bakugou blinked, freezing.

 

“That’s why I want to go to Hokkaido - I was selfish, Katsuki, I know that! I want to fix this!”


“Both if you, stop!” Strong hands pushed the two of them away from each other, Bakugou sprawling in his back in the grass. “I know this is weird and also kind of messed up but fighting about it isn’t gonna get us anywhere!” Momo shouted. “Izu - Midoriya’s said he wants to fix it, so trying to hurt him for something he feels bad about isn’t helping anybody!!”


 

 

Silence in the clearing.



“I -“ His hands are shaking - why are they shaking? “Why?” Quit it, hands. “Why did you do it?”


“I… wanted to know what it was like.”

 

Bakugou looks at Midoriya, whose eyes are closed and his hands are just like his - shaking like a leaf. “To be alive.”


“And what’s it like then.” He spat.

 

Midoriya shrugged. “...Weird. My brain feels like someone took the programming of a supercomputer and tried to download it onto a really old PC - crammed and blurry.”

 

Neither one says anything for a second.

 

Then, Bakugou snorted, breaking the tension. “That’s a fucking dumb way of describing it.”

 

“You still got the gist, right?” Momo helped Midoriya up. “No more infighting. That means you two.” Bakugou and Midoriya glance at each other, and then look away. “If we wanna get all the way to Hokkaido, then this can’t happen again.”

 

“How are we even supposed to get there - we don’t have any money!” Bakugou exclaimed, the realization being the brain equivalent of being smacked upside the face with a bag of marbles. 


“Uh, hello?” He turned to Momo, pulling a wad of cash out of her arm. “Human piggy bank here?”

 

“Fascinating.” Midoriya took the money and examined it, turning it from side to side. “It’s just like the real thing.”

 

“Isn’t that counterfeit?” Bakugou remarked. Momo shrugged. 

 

“I’ve been doing it for years, and no ones caught me yet. I think we’ll be okay.”


“Alright.” Bakugou stood to look at the two. “Midoriya, I’m gonna let what you told me slide - but I’m not gonna forget.” He leaned in to deliver to Midoriya one of his signature death glares. “Try something like that again, I will chop you into two-by-two inch cubes and build a minecraft house out of you.”

 

“What’s Minecraft.”

 

“Game plan!” Momo broke the two up, standing as well. “We’ll try and find the nearest airport, and if we can’t walk all the way there today, we’ll get a hotel. Taxis might be too risky. My family owns a lot of them, along with Uber.”

 

“Good to know.” Bakugou looked away, thinking for a second. “Actually? Not good, how much shit does your family own anyways.”

 

“Well THAT is a long list and a long story.”






Chapter Text

“What’s on tap for this afternoon?” Momo asked Midoriya, who was holding the map, squinting at it.

 

“Walking.” 

 

“With a side of…”

 

“More walking.”


 

Bakugou let out a hiss of frustration, turning to kick the wall. “How fucking far away are we from civilization?!” He grumbled. “We’ve been having to camp for two days straight, and if so help me, another bird shits on me while I’m asleep, I’m going to kill someone,” He whirled around to glare at Momo. “Preferably you .”

 

Momo blanched, turning away. “...Sorry?” She muttered, feeling shame curl up in her stomach. 

 

The past two days had sucked. At first, they were trying to find an airport, but after they had lost the road, now they were just trying to find some semblance of civilization. It was boring, and awkward, Momo’s two least favorite things.

 

Midoriya had hardly spoken this entire time, seemingly spaced out and in his own little world. Momo had attempted to strike up a conversation, but Midoriya gave her little but one-word answers. 

 

God, this was her fault. They wouldn’t be stuck in god-knows-where if she had just figured the issue out sooner! Maybe she should have stayed afraid of her parents. Then she wouldn’t be in trouble with them, and they wouldn’t be stuck out -


 

 

“A town.” 


 

Both Momo and Bakugou perked up to see Midoriya in a tree, seemingly just having appeared up there. He was peering across the woods, slightly to the west. 

 

“If we head in the direction of where the sun sets -”

 

“East.” 

 

“East - then hopefully we’ll hit the town by sundown.” Momo exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Thank. God.” 

 

The trio practically sprinted east as the sun started to set. By the time they had pulled themselves out of the woods and into the town, they were sweaty, panting, and dirty. 

 

But not stuck in the woods. So that was a bonus. 




 

 


 

 

 

 

 

“Hotel.” Bakugou pointed to the closest one, a dingy, rundown motel with a tacky neon sign, a few of the letters burnt out. “I am NOT sleeping on a shitty park bench.”

 

Midoriya shrugged, looking at Momo. “Why are you looking at me?”

 

“You’re the one with the money, idiot.” Bakugou grumbled. “And you’re also outvoted.”

 

“I did not get a vote.” Midoriya remarked. Bakugou glared at him.


“Oky, fine. Fine. We’ll stay at the skeezy looking hotel - but if I get murdered in my sleep, I’m blaming you.” Momo hissed, jabbing a finger into Bakugou’s chest, who swatted it away. 

 

“Both of you, please stop fighting.” Midoriya interjected, brushing past them. “It is not productive to fight right now.”


“WOULD IT KILL YOU TO USE SOME CONJUNCTIONS EVERY NOW AND THEN?”


“Pardon my french, but no.”







 


 

 

 

 

 

The hotel was just as nice on the inside as it was on the outside - greasy, dusty, and overall not great. Momo grimaced at the sight, but Bakugou ignored it, flopping onto the bed. 

 

“How the hell are we supposed to get to Hokkaido undetected if your family owns like, everything?!” He yelled into his pillow. Momo looked away. 

 

 

“...I can get takeout?” She asked.

 

“Answer my question, dipshit.” He looked up from his pillow, eyebrows narrowed at her. “Did you even plan this far?”

 

“How was I supposed to know three nights ago that’d I be leaving my house with a surly teenager with an inferiority complex and a -” Momo turned to Midoriya, exasperated. “God, what even are you?!”



The room was silent. 


 

 

 

Midoriya opened his mouth -


 

 

 

And then shrugged. 


 

 

 

“What do you mean, you don’t know?!” Both Bakugou and Momo shouted, causing Midoriya to flinch. 

 

“I just mean, I do not know if there is a name.” Midoriya admitted, sitting down on the bed. “In your language.” 

 

“How about ‘nerd’?” Bakugou interjected. Momo punched him in the arm.


“What’s the closest definition you can think of?” Midoriya thought long and hard, and Momo held her breath all the while. 

 

 

 

 

 

Then he shrugged again. 

 

 

 

 

“Shrug one more time and leave us with our questions, and I will personally dislocate your arm sockets and beat you to death with them.” Bakugou hissed.

 

Momo sucked in air through her teeth. Midoriya shrugged. 



 

 

 

“You were saying about food?”

 

“DON’T DROP THE SUBJECT, YOU CRYPTIC ASSHOLE!!” Bakugou shot up from his bed, palms crackling. “What ever happened to ‘no more lying’?!”

 

 

“I am telling you, I don’t quite know.”

 

“Really.” Bakugou crossed his arms with a huff, and Midoriya looked away, pulling at his shirt collar. 

 

“Yes - I don’t.”

 

 

 

“Is there… anyone else like you?”


Both Midoriya and Bakugou turned to look at Momo, who instantly looked away, familiar taught shame on intruding a knot in her stomach. “I’m sorry -” She mumbled. “I know you two were talking, and I didn’t mean to interrupt -”


 

 

 

“I don’t know.”


 

 

The sentence was more to himself than anyone else. Both Bakugou and Momo turned to look at Midoriya, whose arms were wrapped tightly around himself. 

 

“I don’t - I cannot remember -” He grabbed his hair, stands of green pulled out in stress. “Why can I not remember?!”

 

“Woahwoahwaoh, okay.” Bakugou turned to face him, hand on his shoulder. “You’re uh - fine -”

 

“Why can't I not remember?!” Midoriya exclaimed, a look of panic in his eyes. “It’s all a blur - I think I am forgetting -”


“You said that trying to transfer over memories to your body was like downloading the intel of a supercomputer on an old windows PC, right?” Midoriya momentary looked up from his panicked spiral, eyes slightly wet. “It makes sense that a good chunk of your thoughts when you weren’t like this would be lost. I’m sure once we get the kid back in here, then you’ll remember...?”




Midoriya sniffed. “...That’s right.” He muttered. “That does make sense.” He took a deep breath to compose himself. “I am sorry for my outburst.” He said to the duo. “That was rather uncalled for.”

 

“Dude, it happens.” Bakugou shrugged. “At least you didn’t yell at a person you were pissed at in a closet while pinning them against the wall.”

 

The two of them smiled a bit, like it was an inside joke that Momo hadn’t been let in on, and once again she felt the familiar pangs of being left out, before quashing them down. 


You’ve got a job to do. 


“So takeout, or…”


 

 

 

 

 

 

Someone knocked on the door. 






 

Bakugou looked to Momo, who looked to Midoriya. “Did… someone already order food?” She mouthed. Both parties shook their heads. 


 

 

Another, harsher knock. 


 

 

“...Go check.” Bakugou hissed at her. Momo crept up to the door, and standing on her toes, looked out the peephole. 



 

 

 

 

 

The tired and disgruntled face of Eraserhead looked back at her.







 

 

 

“Shit.” She hissed, creeping away from the door. “Shit-fuck-cocksucking-balls!!”

 

“What, what is it?” 

 

Momo pointed to the door, hand shaking slightly. “I think the police caught up to us.”


“WHAT?!” Midoriya and Bakugou whisper shouted as the three of them dove behind a couch. 

 

“Why are they chasing us?” Bakugou exclaimed, hands pulling at burnished gold strands of hair. 

 

“We are runaways,” Momo huffed, slowly backing away from the door as the police (or maybe Mr. Aizawa, who knows) presumed knocking. “It makes sense that they’d - they’d - oh god.”


Midoriya’s spiral eyes shot to the door, then to the wall, then back again. “Any grand plans, Oh Smart One?” Bakugou shot. Midoriya paled, opened his mouth, and -


“I’m having an aneurysm.”

 

Both Momo and Bakugou looked at each other, then back at the uncharacteristically panicking boy. 

 

“I’m having an aneurysm - I’m going to sit here, and I’m going to aneurate, and then die - is that how you want me to die Katsuki?!” 

 

No one is going to die. ” Momo hissed. 

 

We’re going to jail and we’re going to die!! ” Bakugou whisper-shouted back.

 

NO ONE IS GOING TO JAIL AND NO ONE IS GOING TO DIE!!” Momo shouted at the two bickering boys. “I kind of want to, the way this trip is going, but that’s beside the point -”


“I know someone’s in there!” An unfamiliar voice issued from the other side of the doorway. “You’ve got three seconds to open up before we break the door down!”

 

 

 

Momo looked at Midoriya, who looked at Bakugou. 


“One -”


None of them moved. 

 

“Two -”


Bakugou kicked the door down on the poor policeman, leaving him unconscious on the ground. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“FUCKING RUN FOR IT!!”


The three of them ran out into the parking lot, where, sure enough, a police car was waiting for them. Bakugou let out a flash grenade, sparks issuing from his palm, and taking advantage of their distraction, the three of them ran until -


 

 

- Something familiar and soft wrapped around Momo’s chest, and she was yanked backwards.


 

 

 

“Okay, listen here.” Aizawa’s eyes were glaring red at full force, brow narrowed in one of irritation. “The past two days you’ve been causing me quite the headache.”

 

“If you stopped chasing us, then maybe you’d feel better...?” Momo quipped. Aizawa glared at her until she shut up. 

 

“You’ve been radio silent for two days, and when we finally find you,” He gestured to the smoking door on the ground, “- You destroy public property while trying to get away. Not exactly the actions of someone innocent.”

 

“Listen here, fucktard.” Bakugou move to stand in front of Midoriya while Momo peeled herself off the asphalt. “I don’t know who you think we are, but we’ve done nothing wrong for you to send a GODDAMNED POLICE FORCE AFTER US.”

 

“You haven’t.” Red eyes meet green and yellow ones. “But he has.”


Momo and Bakugou turn to look at Midoriya, who was trying to make himself as small as possible. “That one’s a dangerous fugitive.” More to himself than anyone else, Aizawa mumbles; “At least that’s what they’re telling me.”

 

Momo and Bakugou shift into a fighting stance. “Good luck fighting me without your quirk.” Aizawa remarked. “Bakugou, your hand to hand skills have always been shaky without your quirk. Same to you Yayorozu.” 


 

 

Mdoriya crept up behind the two of them. “I think I have an idea.” He muttered. 

 

 

 

“Well, now would be a good time to spit it out.”

 

 

 

 

 

“...When Aizawa starts coughing blood, don’t panic.”

 

“WHAT -” But Midoriya had already gone limp on the ground -

 

 

 

 

just in time for Aizawa to fall to his knees, quirk deactivating, yanking at his hair. 

 

 

 

 

 

“KID - GET OUT OF MY HEAD -!!” Hacking up globs of blood, Aizawa staggered to his feet -



“CLANG”




 

 

 

 

Momo knocked him out with a pole she had summoned from her arm. 




 

 

 

The duo looked at each other, then back at Midoriya’s unconscious body. 


 

 

“What the fuck?” Momo remarked, revulsion filling her stomach. 

 

“Understatement of the fucking century, grab the nerd, and the bandage weasel’s car keys.”

 

“But that’s stealing!”

 

“YOU JUST KNOCKED OUT A FUCKING PRO HERO WITH A POLE DON’T GO TALKING ABOUT LAWS NOW, SO SHUT UP AND GET IN THE GODDAMNED CAR!!”


Momo hastily did what she was told, and as the two of them hauled Midoriya into the car and turned the key, the rest of the police squad searching the apartment filed out, just in time to see them pull away.


Squad car 99, where are you go -” Momo threw the walkie-talkie out the window. 






 

 

Silence for a few minutes as the panic faded, Momo pulling onto the highway. 


 

 

 

“...I didn’t know you knew how to drive.” Bakugou remarked. 

 

“I kind of don’t, actually.”


 

 

 

Bakugou looked at her.

 

Momo looked at him.




She wasn’t quite sure who started chucking, but soon the two of them were convulsing in full body hysterical laughter. From the panic, adreniline, or just how fucking ridiculous this situation was, neither of them knew, or really cared. They only stopped when Midoriya groaned, starting to sit up. 


“Close the window…” He slurred. Bakugou hauled himself out of shotgun to the backseat, helping the smaller boy sit up.

 

“What the hell was that?” Bakugou asked. 

 

“I tried to take over Shota Aizawa’s body.” 

 

Momo whistled. 


“You saw how much blood he was coughing up.”

 

“Possession can put a great strain on the human body and mind when you’re older.”

 

 

“Just -” Bakugou looked out the window, hauling himself to the front. “Don’t do that again.”

 

 

“...Does it disgust you?”

 

 

“No - I mean, a little, but next time, someone could cough out a fucking lung!” Bakugou grumbled as he pulled himself back into the front seat. “You’ve gotta be careful.”

 

“I will not do that again if that would make you feel better.” Bakugou rolled his eyes at the smaller boy’s formality. 



“Good.”





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

None of them noticed the single streak of black liquid running down Bakugou’s face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Except for you, of course.

 

Chapter Text

By the time the sun had completely sunken into the horizon and the moon had risen, Momo was starting to nod off. Bakugou noticed quickly, and smacked her lightly in the arm. 

 

 

“Hey, if you’re gonna pass out on my ass, you should probably pull over and sleep or something.”

 

Momo shifted awkwardly. “I mean… I kind of want to get as far away from the police we stole this car from as possible -”

 

“That wasn’t a request.” Pushing down irritation at Momo’s stubborn attempts to argue, he leaned over the seat, and flicked Midoriya in the head. 

 

 

“Whuzgoinon-” He mumbled, pulling himself out of the fetal position he was curled in. 

 

“We’re pulling over and sleeping.”

 

“Why’d you wake me up if we’re just… going right back to bed?”

 

“I’M JUST -” Inhale. Exhale of frustration. “I’m just letting you know, idiot.”

 

“Are you making me take first watch again?” Midoriya asked, sitting up. “Because contrary to what you may think, I do need to sleep.”

 

“I -” Bakugou rubbed his temples in annoyance. “Nevermind, I’ll - I’ll go.”



 

Momo pulled off of the barren road into the grass, before turning the car off. “We should… probably remove the license plate.” She mentioned. Bakugou nodded.

 

“Yeah. And while you’re at it, spray paint the car too.” He pulled himself out of the car, ignoring the duo’s concerned stares. “I’ll go get that fucker off.”




 

 

So - fun fact about license plates - they were a BITCH to remove. No matter how much Bakugou pulled and tore at the shitty piece of metal, it. Would. Not Budge.

 

“Do you need some assistance?” Midoriya asked, poking his head out of the car. 

 

“FUCK OFF - I can do this - myself -” Through gritted teeth, he gave an almighty tug, before toppling to the ground. 

 

“Maybe you could ask Momo to make you a crowbar-”

 

“I DON’T NEED ANY HELP.” Midoriya stopped cold at the yelling. “I don’t - need any help. Go away.” 





Midoriya didn’t stop staring at him as he resumed pulling on the thing, his eyes hot iron brands on the back of Bakugou’s neck. “Something you need, nerd?”

 

 

“Why don’t you want help?”



 

It was a simple question, but it stopped him cold. “Why don’t I - because I don’t need it, obviously.” Bakugou retorted as he fell over again from the force of his pull. 

 

Midoriya arched an eyebrow. “But that’s not true.” He remarked. “You’re obviously having trouble.” 

 

“Why - do you - care?!” Bakugou grunted out between tugs. “I’m just fine - on my own.”

 

“I just don’t understand.” 

 

“Well, it’s not my fault you're an emotionally inept idiot!” Bakugou shot out. Midoriya stopped. 

 

 

 

So did Bakugou. 



 

“I mean - uh -” He tried to backpedal from his frustrated words. “You’re not -”

 

“No, you are right.” Midoriya sighed, head sliding down to prop itself up against the window. “I’m sorry if I was bothering you.”

 

“No wait - you’re good, I’m just…” He looked down at his hands, rubbed raw from his futile efforts. “I’m not. Good I mean.”

 

Midoriya arched an eyebrow. “I’m in a shitty mood,” Bakugou started, pulling on the license plate again, “My hands hurt, I’m hungry, and I don’t like people I don’t know poking issues I don’t really want to talk about.”

 

“But… you do know me.” Midoriya remarked, eyes cast downward. “We’ve been friends for -”

 

“I knew One, and the others - but not you.” Bakugou whirled around jabbing a finger in Midoriya’s direction. “Not… you you.”




 

Midoriya looked away, face betraying nothing. 




“....Maybe you’re right.”





He slunk back inside the car, leaving Bakugou all alone again. Swallowing down a pang of… whatever, Bakugou returned to yanking on the STUPID plate of metal, until finally -




 

“Oh SHIT-” Momo poked her head out of the car window to look at him, sprawled on the grassy floor, the entire fender in hand. 

 

 

 

 

“...Bakugou, what the fuck.”

 

“I got the damn license plate off, what more do you want from me?!”

 

“YOU TOOK THE ENTIRE GODDAMN FENDER OFF, THAT’S NOT -”

 

“ENOUGH!” Both of them turned to see Midoriya, perched on top of the car, glaring down at the two. “I get you’re pissed off and tired, but this is no way to conduct ourselves.” He slid down off the windshield, snatching the fender from Bakugou’s hands. “Give me that. Momo, could you get me a crowbar, and some duct-tape.” She nodded, pulling the items out of her stomach. “And for the life of me, Katuski, can you go three minutes without blowing up at someone?!”

 

“Hey!” He stood, brushing the grass off his pants. “Listen here, idiot. I don’t know who died and made you king but-”

 

“Katsuki.” Bakugou stopped cold at Midoriya’s tone. “Please. For your sake and mine, be. Quiet.”



 

So he shut his mouth. 




Midoriya pried off the license plate with the crowbar, right before deftly duct-taping the fender back on. It was sloppy, but it worked. Momo had gotten to work spray-painting the car, and by the time the two of them were done, the car looked virtually unrecognizable. 

 

 

 

Shitty, but unrecognizable.



“Now, can we all get some sleep.” Midoriya huffed. Momo nodded. 








And for the first time in god knows how long, Bakugou fell asleep, with no dreams awaiting him. (n one that he could remember at least.) 





























“Tell me what happens after death.”

 

He laughs at the boy’s question. Perhaps, for someone like him, it was a silly thought. 

 

To die.

 

“You are going to look at your own reflection.” He says between laughs. “That’s going to be your fate.”

 

What are you going to do, onlookers? 

 

Pray?

 

Because I won’t be there to listen. 



Not anymore. 

 

Chapter Text

The next morning was about as nice as you’d expect. Tense, awkward, and slightly paranoid. 

 

Momo kept checking behind the car in the rearview mirror every twelve seconds to see if they were being tailed, Bakugou kept nervously drumming his fingers against the window pane and… well Midoriya wasn’t doing anything, Momo noticed. He just kind of sat there. 


 

The silence was unbearable. Someone had to break it.


 

“I… don’t think we’ll be able to catch a plane to Hokoaido.” Momo finally said, stating what all of them had realized. “The heroes are probably keeping a watch on the airports for us.”

 

“Well shit, how do we get there then?” Bakugou grumbled. “Any bright ideas?”

 

“...no.” Momo muttered. “But it’d help if you stopped being such an asshole.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“Nothing.”



They continued on in silence for another thirty minutes, Momo looking anywhere but at the two boys in her car. 

 

 

 

“...Soooooo, how about I turn on the radio or something?” She reached for the dial, but Bakugou smacked her hand away. 

 

“If I have to listen to any music, I’m going to blow this entire car up.”

 

“It’s just… really quiet and awkward and tense in here, and I thought -”


 

“Speed up.” Both turned to look at a panicked Midoriya peering out the window. “Go fast, now.”

 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. “Midoriya, what the fu-” 

 

“SPEED UP NOW!!” Momo slammed her foot on the pedal and the car lurched forward into full throttle, leaving screaming streaks of rubber behind on the asphalt. 

 

“MIDORIYA WHAT’S GOING ON?!” Momo shouted over the roar of the engine. His nails cut into the seat, eyes wide like a wild animal caught in the headlights. “IS IT THE POLICE?!”

 

“WORSE!” He shouted back. 

 

 

Momo looked in the rearview mirror to see -



 

 

 

 

“Oh.”






 

 

Then, the car lurched, having run straight over a pothole. The three of them all simultaneously screamed, tumbling around as the car swerved off the road, and crashed into one of the signs in the grass next to it. Bakugou’s head slammed into the back of his seat, Momo’s forehead was rammed into the car’s doorknob, and Midoriya’s skull was smashed into the window, glass shattering from the force of it. 





 

Then



silence. 




 

“...What the fuck.” Bakugou warbled out finally. “I - is everyone okay?”

 

“Still alive.” Momo groaned. “Unfortunately.” 

 

Both turned to Midoriya, head lolling out the shattered window. “Is he… dead?” Bakugou whispered. 

 

 

Then, with an uncanny speed, Midoriya’s head shot up and turned, causing the two of them to yelp and jump back. “I am still here.” Midoriya said, a little too calmly for someone with glass stuck in their forehead.


“Uh… you’ve got -” Midoriya cut Bakugou off, hand reaching up to feel the offending shrapnel stuck in his forehead. Without hesitation, Midoriya pulled out the glass with a sickening squiiiiiish sound, Momo wincing at the noise. Ignoring the copious amount of blood running down his face, Midoriya calmly felt around the front for the first aid kit the police had left behind. 

 

 

“Does this thing have any stitches in it?” Midoriya smoothy asked. Momo gulped, trying to formulate an answer, but Bakugou pushed her out of the way, climbing into the backseat. 

 

“I got it nerd,” He muttered, pulling a needle and thread, along with some disinfectant out of the kit. “Now hold still.” 


While Bakugou patched Midoriya up (with a fair bit of nagging about his carelessness), Momo looked out the window to confirm what she had seen.


 

 

 

But it wasn’t there. 


 

 

Instead, the offending chunk of highway was gone, like a piece of paper folded so that one end of the paper immediately touched the other. Like that land had simply been swallowed up by space and time itself. 


“...What the hell was that.” Momo finally said. Midoriya looked up at her, black stitches a harsh contrast to his pale and boney face. “What the hell was that?!”

 

 

“...The reason why I cannot stay here.” Midoriya muttered, almost sounding… guilty. (Which was weird, Midoriya was never guilty about anything) “I… did that.”

 

“Judging by Momo’s face when she looked out the window, I could tell.” Bakugou remarked. Momo glared at him, and he stuck his tongue out in response. “What happened?”

 

“Well I - You see -” Midoriya exhaled, a sigh of defeat.“Momo, are you okay?”

 

“....” She squinted, trying to recall what the land behind her had looked like. But the memory too, was gone, a blip in the static of her mind. “I… think so.” 

 

“Good. I do not want anyone else to have a breakdown.” Midoriya climbed out of the car to sit next to her. “I believe that…. I may have done that.”

 

“What?! Why?!” Bakugou retorted. 

 

“On accident, I mean.” Midoriya shot back. “It’s just… when I’m like this, I - I do not have much control over my affect on this world.” Twisting his knuckles, he continued. “And I believe that I… may have an adverse effect on the world around me and it’s makeup.”

 

“So you like - fuck stuff up without knowing how to not.” Bakugou retorted. Midoriya nodded, looking downcast. 

 

“Reality starts to collapse in small ways… but it could get worse if we do not hurry.” He climbed back into the car, refusing to make eye contact. “We should go. The car isn’t too badly damaged yet.” 


 

Momo climbed into the front seat, turning on the ignition, willing her stomach-ache to vanish like the highway behind her.












 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When they got to the hotel, they made sure to sign in and not use their real names, all three of them disguised in winter garb, despite the fact it was still fall. The hotel manager took one look at them, snatched Momo’s money, and muttered something derogatory about ‘fucking hobos.’



 

The room, admittedly, was nicer than the last one, if not roasting hot, with two beds instead of one. However -


“There isn’t enough space for all of us.” Midoriya stated matter-of-factly. 

 

“Yeah dumbass, there’s only two beds.” Bakugou shot back, rolling his eyes.

 

“Perhaps two of us can share…? No, I will sleep on the floor.”

 

“Uh, earth to scarface?” Bakugou rapped his knuckles three times against Midoriya’s temples, causing the smaller boy to wince and for Bakugou to immediately retract his hand. “That’s a HARDWOOD floor. We ain't got any extra blankets or some shit, so you’ll be stuck freezing to death all night. Not to mention you’re still kind of injured.”

 

“I do not feel hurt!” Midoriya retorted, but Bakugou wasn’t having any of it. 

 

 

“Look - I dunno, just like - you and titsmgee can share.”

 

“Oh, we’re doing nickname throwbacks now - wait, I’m not sharing a bed with HIM!”

 

“Why not?” The two boys said at the same time. 

 

“Just - why don’t YOU two share,” She huffed, pushing Midoriya back at Bakugou. 

 

“Momo, it’s like a bajillion degrees in here, and I sweat nitroglycerin, remember?!” He hissed back, touting his calloused hands. “I could kill either of you in my sleep!”

 

“I’m - well, I’m not sharing a bed with a BOY!” Momo retorted, face a brilliant shade of crimson. 

 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” The two turned to look at a sheepish Midoriya sitting on the bed, knees pressed against his chest. “I uh - have no idea if I count as one or not.”

 

Bakugou shot a victorious smug smile at Momo, who huffed in response. “Besides,” Midoiya remarked. “I think I should have a say in this, am I not wrong?”

 

 

“Well, what’s your verdict?” Bakugou retorted. Midoruya scratched his temples in thought for a few seconds. 

 

 

 

“...Carry on arguing, I actually do not know.”

 

“THEN WHY’D YOU SAY ANYTHING?!” The duo yelled. 



 

 

A good ten minutes later, some arguing, and one almost-fistfight, and both Momo and Midoriya were laying in the bed on the right, Bakugou snoring in the other one. 



 

 

 

 

Neither side said anything. 

 

Neither could sleep. 


 

 

 

“...I can sleep on the floor if you want,” Midoriya whispered. “Really, it is okay -”

 

“No it’s…” Momo exhaled. “It’s fine. I was just being a baby about it.”

 

“Oh.” More silence, the only sound the whirring of the weak plastic fan room service had brought them.




 

 

 

 

“...Do you hate me?”


 

 

 

Midoriya rolled over to look away at that question, eyes planted firmly on the tacky plaster wall. “No.” He stated. 

 

 

“Why not?” Momo whispered back. “I… was one of the reasons why you were stuck in my house.”

 

“One of.” Momo blinked, turning to look at Midoriya’s back. “Key word being one of.”

 

Momo swallowed. “I… I spied on you.” She hissed, biting back tears. “For a whole goddamned year!”

 

“But then you helped me.” The simple response caught Momo off guard. “You saved me from yourself and your parents. That counts for something, does it not?”



 

 

 

Momo rolled away, the two of them turned away from each other.




 

 

 

“...Am I a bad person?” Momo mumbled weakly. 


 

 

For almost a full minute, Midoriya was silent. 



“No.” He said finally. “You were scared, and angry. But that does not equate to bad.” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Bad people are the people who lie and steal and don’t feel bad. Who try and sneak their way out of any consequences for their actions. Who don’t accept punishment.”


 

 

 

 

 

It clicked, what he was trying to say to her. 





 

 

 

 

“Midoriya… are you a bad person?”



 

 

 

 

 

The question sounded childish, even to her. 




 

 

 

 

 

He didn’t answer. But the silence may as well have outright stated his opinion on himself.







“Good night Momo.” He whispered. 


 

 

 

 

 

 

Momo sighed. “Good night, Midoriya.”



Chapter Text

A few things Todoroki had learned in the week and a half he had been traveling across Japan. 



1: Turns out people would avoid you a lot more if you had a big-ass bandaid on your face. Which was funny, he thought more people would ask him weird questions. Oh well. Who’s loss? Certainly not mine. 

 

2: Libraries were. SO NICE. How had he not figured this out sooner? They were completely quiet, with a nice ambiance, but not silent enough to feel like a mausoleum. 



Which was where he was now, sitting in front of a computer, scouring the news for any sign of his missing classmates.

 

Everytime he thought about them, he felt something twist in his stomach. 

 

Guilt. 



He should have figured out something was going on. Well, he had, kind of, but not enough to really help. Maybe if he hadn’t ignored Midoriya so much, he could have prevented him from running, with his gang in tow. 

 

Now, Bakugou, Todoroki could live with being missing. But Momo -




“THIS DOESN’T FUCKING INVOLVE YOU SHOUTO!!!”




If he concentrated, he could still taste the punch on the back of his tongue.




“I don’t want it to.”





Well, Todoroki thought, shaking himself out of his stupor, it was too late for that. He was gonna put a stop to whatever was going on with those three, whether they liked it or not.




“Finding everything you need?”

 

The blonde librarian leaning over him smiled, lined eyes soft. Todoroki shut off the computer, pushing back memories of his -



“You looking into those missing kids too?” She laughed, taking a seat next to him. “It's quite mysterious, don’t you think?”

 

“I - I’m not really looking into it,” Todoroki mumbled nervously. “I just heard about it on the news - got curious.”

 

“So curiosity lead you to stop at seven seperate libraries in this prefecture?”



Todoroki froze. 



“I heard about from one of my friends at the library twenty miles back on the hill - a weird kid with a bandaid and badly dyed hair isn’t something you see everyday. Not to mention -” She looked to the side, then back at him. “Where are your parents?”



He looked away. 

 

“Ain’t got any.”



The librarian laughed. “You and I both know that’s a lie, Todoroki.”

 

He shot up, eyes widened with panic. The librarian placed a hand on his forearm, still smiling, albeit sadly. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to turn you in.” He swallowed, still not convinced. “I’m Himari Takaguci. It’s nice to meet you.” 

 

He turned from her face, unable to face her. 

 

“How’d you figure it out?” He mumbled. She laughed. 

 

“It’s rather obvious when you look at you for more than two seconds. I’d invest in fake glasses if I were you.” 

 

“But - I don’t understand, why aren’t you calling the police? Why aren’t you turning me in?” 

 

Now she was the one to turn away, the sunset filtering through the stained glass window casting her in a strange, almost angelic light. “...The boy you’re looking for.” She finally said. “Was my neighbor for a while.”

 

Todoroki raised an eyebrow. “But - you’re so far away from Mufastu!”

 

“We moved a couple weeks ago - just after his mother left.” She sighed, twisting the diamond ring on her finger. “At the time, I didn’t realize she had left her son behind. Not until I realized this one guy - Shigeru, I think, came to investigate. I saw him on the news, and realized he must have been a detective. Which means -” She cut herself off, swallowing. “Something must have happened. And this whole time, right next to me - I had no idea.”



“There was no way you could have known.” Todoroki sympathized, scooching his chair so that they were parallel from one another. “I didn;t either.”

 

“Well,” She sighed, face brightening, “I suppose you’re looking for him?” He nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

 

“Are you going to tell me to leave him alone?” Takaguci shook her head. 

 

“The exact opposite. I actually wanted to give you this.” She handed him a small pouch, the sounds of fluttering paper inside. Todoroki weighed the pouch in his hand, barely weighing anything at all. 

 

“What’s this for?”

 

“He’ll know. But until then, I’d advise you don’t open it.” She replied with a smile. 



“...why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why are you doing this?”




Silence, the only sound the fluttering of a moth around a lamp. 




“...I want to make it up to him.” She finally admitted. “For not being… better. I tried to help in any way I could - but by then, it was too late. He had already been chosen.”

 

“Chosen for what?”

 

“It’s rather complicated, and not something I want you to get mixed up in.”




And he saw Momo’s crying face, mascara running down it, for a split second, crystal clear in his mind. 




“But I know that he deserved better than what he got. Certainly more then me.” 

 

She stood, and so did he. “The libraries closing soon. I suggest you head out.” She handed him a small wrap of green money. “Hopefully this’ll help. Head to Hokkokaido, the north coast. Intercept them at Satori mountain. You should be able to catch them in the ruins.”




Todoroki nodded, trying to commit it all to memory. 



“Thank you.” He said finally. 



She nodded. “No problem.”






And he departed with a lighter feeling in his chest then he had in a long time. 















 

 

In the back of the library, unnoticed by both, a figure sat, black coat and scarf blurring them into the shadows. 




Reigen Yurishiro smiled. He was so tired of chauffeuring people. And now, his employers knew where the devil child and their kid were heading.

 

And they knew who the traitor was. 












 

 

“Mom?”



Shouma Takaguci didn’t get a response verbally. 

 

He was, however, answered by the blood on the floor, pooling around his mother’s head like a crown. 




Chapter Text

Morning sun filtered onto Bakugou’s face as he slowly came to, opening his eyes. 

 

The first thing he noticed was that his eyes felt… kind of wet? 

 

And not like crying or some shit, no, nothing like that. Almost like gunk of some sort. Like someone had poured grease into his eye sockets. 

 

Grumbling, Bakugou pushed himself off the ground, and started his walk over to the car, to grab his water bottle and wash his goddamn face -







But then -








Brushing his face, he saw strings of black oily liquid run off with it, staining his hand, sliding under his fingernails. 



Audibly gasping, he whipped around to look at himself in the car’s rear view mirror -









His eyes.




They were… straight up gone. 




No pupils, or screla, just inky blackness, running down his face like some sick waterfall. 



“What the fuck.” Bakugou breathed. 



But then he noticed something.













His reflection wasn’t moving.





“This is his fault.” The doppelganger said, a familiar memory playing before him. 




“Some things should stay hidden. You covered that up for a reason.”



Bakugou had pushed that memory of the battle exercise - the first time Midoriya had truly done something that wasn’t really explainable - out of his mind.




But like everything he tried to forget, here it was again, taunting him.





“There’s only one way to get rid of that thing.” His reflection smiled, face a mess of black liquid and malice. 




“You want to fix your world? Stop it from distorting?”





“Kill Midoriya Izuku.”












And Bakugou ripped out the rearview mirror, tossing it into the woods beyond.






















 

 

The investigation wasn’t really getting anywhere. 



After their lead with the hotel back near Mufastu, the trail had pretty much gone cold. Aizawa had to hand it to those kids, they were good at hiding. 

 

There had been a few sightings of Todoroki, a librarian had reported seeing him a few days ago. (The librarian in question was a man with a track record of drug trafficking, so Aizawa wasn’t exactly sure if he was credible.)




But that’s not what he was here to investigate. 



He had just finished up an interview with one of the detectives, who was trying to find out as much as possible about Midoriya Izuku’s past. The conversation had been extremely unhelpful, and by the time they were done, only left Aizawa wanting to hit something, preferably himself.





“Hey Shota.” Hizashi had managed to sneak up behind him, and Aizawa whirled around, to see him holding two cups in hand. “Coffee?”

 

“You better not have put blastphamous amounts of cream and sugar in there.” Aizawa remarked, taking the cup. 

 

“Yeah, I know, you like your coffee as black as the dark circles under your eyes.” Hizashi remarked, laughing. Aizawa smiled. Despite how painfully loud he was, Hizashi did know how to cheer him up. 




“Any luck?” Aizawa shook his head. 

 

“Trail’s gone cold. Wherever those kids are, they obviously know how to hide from the police.”



They were silent for a few minutes, Aizawa taking liberal sips of his coffee, Hizashi’s pretty much untouched. 

 



“I do feel like we should tell them about the possibility of two Midoriya’s running around.” Hizashi finally mumbled. “You know, the one we saw at our apartment.” 

 

“I just - no, I feel like if we do that, then he’ll just get experemnted on instead of getting the help he needs.” Aizawa admitted. He knew that the police had been told that they were dealing with someone who had ‘multiple quirks’, and that was all they had been let in on, but if he added cloning to the already suspicious pile of things his ‘quirk’ could do, it would probably be grounds for experimenting on. And Aizawa really didn’t want that.



He owed the kid. For not helping him before.



“What’s the status on the Yayorozu family’s demands?” Aizawa asked. Hizashi sighed. 

 

“They won’t give in. We’ve offered them some sums of money in exchange for them leaving Midoriya alone, but it doesn’t seem to be doing much. They’re already rich after all - I don’t think they need any more dough.” Aizawa nodded, pensive. “And I’m concerned they’re going to take legal action if we don’t satisfy them soon - and you know the court’s gonna be swayed in their favor.”

 

“It’d be a scandal though,” Aizawa admitted, scratching his head. “And that’s what gets me. It doesn’t make sense why they want the kid. I mean, if they take it to court, it’s only a matter of time before things go public - and the Yayorozu’s have always been more careful than that.”

 

“I dunno, Shota.” Hizashi admitted, taking a swig of his drink. “I’d prefer not to think about it.” 






“...Aizawa?” 







Both of them turned to see a nervous looking Toshinori standing before them. 



Aizawa stood. Hizashi scowled. But Toshinori stood his ground.



“...We need to talk.” Aizawa crossed his arms. “It’s about the kid.”














 

 

 

 

 

 

“I still can’t believe you ripped off the rearview mirror.” Momo huffed behind the driver's seat. “Seriously, what WAS that?!” 

 

“I just panicked, shitface!” Bakugou scowled, eyes focused on the scenery blurring by them as they drove down the highway. 



“You’re reverting to uncreative nicknames, something obviously happened.” Momo remarked. Bakugou scowled. 

 

“It’s none of your business - and what’s that whole ‘uncreative nickname’ crap anyways?! I’ll call you what I want, thank you very much!”

 

“Listen, you -”



“I don’t get annoyed easily-” The two of them turned to look at Midoriya, head draped over the back seat. “-but your bantering is starting to irritate me a little.” 

 

“Oh wow, I’m so nervous.” Bakugou grumbled, but he shut his mouth.





Still, his brain was running in circles. 



Kill Midoriya?



No, no, no, no, no, that was dumb. Stupid. Shitty. 

 

Why had that even happened? What the hell was going on?





“It’s just.. When I’m like this, I don’t have much control over my affect on this world.”




“Anything weird happen to you two last night?” Bakugou finally grumbled out. 



“No,” Momo admitted, “Not that I can think of.”



They both turned to look at Midoriya again. 















He looked at me. 










I looked at you. 




But neither of us said anything. So I guess it’s fine.




“Nope.” Midoriya admitted.