Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

His eyes open slowly. He looks around, seeing the black background, but a young woman’s face and a young white haired man looking at me. He tries to speak, but his mouth is covered by a black smoke. As well, as the rest of his body. He looks down, desperately trying to talk or escape. 

“Be calm,” says the man. He has long white hair flowing down his hair, “We’re on your side.” 

“Izuku Midoriya,” says the woman next. She’s eerily familiar. “Welcome, home.” 

They both reach for him, and ultimately he’s reaching back for him. 

We’re on your side. 

He opens his eyes slowly, finally regaining consciousness back. 

The light of the sun pours into his face, and for a second he has trouble realizing where he is. I’m home. 

That’s right. It’s been a couple months since they came back home. Everything was different. Mom and Eri welcomed him warmly, crying their hearts and they were so, so happy. 

He gets into the bathroom, (new and improved) much more different than the old one and with hot water. Hot water was a privilege, and he has been given it because he was a Victor now. 

Kacchan moved next door. His parents happily moving in with him. No one talks about the deaths, not really. They don’t talk about Ochako. They don’t talk about the boy Izuku befriended. They don’t talk about anyone. 

Coming back has been surreal. A fever dream. Everyone cheered for them. They were holding hands for the last time. Eri was on Eijirou’s shoulders, a big toothy grin as he waved at them. Kacchan had been stiff, his back tense but he was smiling back. 

He didn’t see Ochako’s parents in the crowd. 

After that, well, everything went back to normal. Everyone had been given supplies from their winning. The district had been floored with more money than they’ve had in years. Suddenly, the entire village had hot water, they could order oranges and hot chocolate. Only once a month, though. Him and Kacchan were blessed with riches upon riches once they got back. But he didn’t find any use for it to use it for himself—rather he just used it for everyone else. To fix the villages, fix some of the houses, the water system, even the food. Even the animals get special treatment. But never not once did he use it for himself. He did not deserve it. 

Finding Ochako’s parents had been harder too. They didn’t want to be seen at all. Didn’t want to be talked to and Izuku had cried for days about it wishing he could give them closure. He had even sent them money, in which they rejected and sent back, and he had felt useless. 

Kacchan did little to comfort him. “They’re mourning, Deku. You should know what that feels like.” 

He nodded, because he did. But he wanted them to know that he had loved Ochako. She was his friend and she deserved to rest in peace. 

Until he found out her body never came home. 

He stormed up to their place, knocking hard on their door. Ochako’s mom, Mrs. Uraraka opens the door shyly, surprise filling her eyes at seeing Izuku. 

“Her body never came home?” He demanded, tears springing to his eyes. 

It was a little harder to face Ochako’s parents now that they were right in front him. He expected rejection. Yelling, tears, hatred. Knowing, that he had been friends with their daughter and she died. Her body never came home, and they never had the closure of having to bury her body. It upset Izuku. He considered Ochako his best friend, alongside Kacchan, and the fact even he, who had mourned Ochako in his own way. When he saw her in his dreams, when he saw her when he passed their shop, he would curse Shigaraki all in one. 

Ochako deserved to live. Did he? 

Mrs Uraraka leads him in, and he sees Mr. Uraraka. Both deathly pale and skinny. The shop is a mess but they don’t say anything as they stars. 

Why didn’t he try harder to save her? If they let him and Kacchan live, maybe they would’ve let Ochako live as well. 

When he stares at Mrs and Mr. Uraraka, the words are trapped in his throat, his face pale. He’s not sure what to tell them. What should he say? That he’s sorry they lost their daughter and that he and Kacchan came back safe? That they didn’t get to bury their only daughter? That he should’ve tried harder to save her? 

“Ochako is my friend,” says Izuku quietly. Mr. Uraraka looks at him, his face still as a small tear falls down. “I’m so sorry, if I could go back in time and save her—I would,” he sobs. It’s silent, and they stare. Izuku feels tears starting to fall down easily. “I’m so sorry.”

He feels arms wrap around him, and for a moment he realizes that it’s Mrs. Uraraka, “Even if we didn’t see you and Ochako become close friends, knowing that you were there for her, easies us. And even if Ochako didn’t come home, you did,” says Mrs. Uraraka, there’s small tears coming from her eyes, “And you will have a long lasting memory of Ochako, and the pride of District 12.” 

“We don’t blame you, Izuku,” says Mr. Uraraka. He smiles as he puts a hand on his shoulder. Grounding. Comforting. “We knew that there was a possibility that Ochako wouldn’t come home. We were ready to face it.” 

Izuku buries his face in his hand at that. It should’ve been Ochako the one to come home. 

“We’re glad it was you and Katsuki-kun who made it back, and not some other kid from any other district,” says Mr. Uraraka. “You guys won’t let her memory die. We know it.” 

And then, Izuku sobs into Mrs. Uraraka’s arms, a heartbroken cry he hadn’t realized he needed. Because it was true, he would never let Ochako’s memory vanish, not now, not ever. He will always remind those that this was an unfair game, a horrible game. 

His friends had died because of it, and he’ll always honor their memory. 

Ochako, Momo, Fuyumi, even if he hadn’t known her as well. 

Hiroki. 

He’ll always keep their memory close. 

After that, they started coming out more easily. Everyone gave them sorrowful looks but never mentioned. After all, they had gotten not one, but two kids from District 12 to come home. 

The nightmares continued, but at least Ochako’s parents didn’t hate him. 

And then, well, life continued. 

He couldn’t go back hunting. The memory hurt too much. He couldn’t even kill an animal without the flash of a body hitting him so deeply. 

He sighs tiredly as he puts his hair back in a ponytail. That was another thing, his long curly hair curling away at his ears. He hasn’t bothered to cut it or touch it since their interviews. He didn’t want any memories of that. Even if the Victor’s parade was approaching slowly. 

And another thing was… 

“Kacchan,” greets Izuku as he goes downstairs. “What are you doing here?” And then his eyes move to Eijirou, who’s sitting next to him. “Kirishima,” he greets. 

Kacchan huffs while Eijirou waves. “Hey, Izuku. I just wanted to invite you tonight to a party in the hub. Ashido is going. Remember her? She’s my girlfriend,” he smiles. 

“Ah,” says Izuku. “Thanks, but I’m busy.” Eijirou deflates but Kacchan scoffs. 

“Doing what? Staying in your room and sleeping? You don’t even go into the forest, Izuku,” he says 

Izuku feels the need to defend himself. “What should it matter? Can’t I just do what I want?” 

“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m saying you should try and enjoy things,” he snaps. 

“No, thanks,” he says again. He doesn’t need to enjoy anything. What’s the point, anyways? What’s it going to do? Nothing but make him remember stuff he doesn’t know already. Nothing but make him remember. 

Kacchan visibly bristled but didn't say anything. “Fine. Rot for all I care,” he snaps as he leaves, slamming the door behind him. Eijirou sends him a small look of pity before he leaves. Pity. 

He knows Kacchan didn’t mean it. He’s mad, he knows that. But he can’t.. he can’t… he can’t despair. 

That’s another thing. His and Kacchan relationship took a turn 160 immediately after they got back. They weren’t the same, and everyone knew but never pointed it out. Why should they? They’ve suffered enough, haven’t they? 

Kacchan was mad at him all the time. He refused to talk about his recurring nightmares. About his quirk. About his secret talks with Toshinori. Even Aizawa had begun getting skeptical when he kept leaving. And he kept refusing to go into the forest. The one thing he didn’t know was that he would go in, just not alone. He was scared of being alone. Loneliness is a fear that will eat him up for good if he isn’t careful. 

Eri is at school, and Mom is with Aunt Mitsuki. He’s by himself again. He pulls a sweater on as he leaves the house. He walks to the other side of the yard, where Toshinori’s house is. He knocks and waits. 

Toshinori comes out, surprised. “Young Midoriya,” he greets. “You’re here quite early.” 

“Good morning,” he says. “I…need help.” He says. 

Toshinori raises an eyebrow but nods. “Alright. Where do you want to go?” 

“The forest,” he says simply. 

The forest was… not as comforting as before. He only went in to train his quirk or meditate, but only with Toshinori. Never alone. Ever. 

He was afraid he’d succumb to his fear there. 

They make it slowly to the forest, climbing under the broken wired fence and Izuku shivered as the cool air hits his skin. They travel deeper into the forest, he makes sure to check the surroundings. 

“What is you wanted help with?” Toshinori asks as they head deeper in, and finally stop as they take in the forest. Big and looming. Dangerous and deadly. 

“I had a dream again.” 

“Again?” Toshinori asks. “Like how?” 

“Like the one I had last week,” says Izuku, as he sits down. “There were two people this time… a man and a woman,” he says. 

“A man and a woman,” Toshinori hums, sitting down in front of him.. “Did they look familiar?” 

Izuku shakes his head. “No. I mean, the man didn’t but the woman did. I recognized her in the dream, I just couldn’t exactly point who she is.”

The last dream he had was exactly a week ago. He had those specific dreams far apart. The first ones started a few weeks after he came back. He had been sleeping and he had woken up in a weird subconscious memory. He was all black and couldn’t sleep, but he was watching a memory of two men. He couldn’t see their faces, just hear their voices. And he had remember, how they had called him, the one. 

“He’s the one.”

He had been so terrified he had consulted Toshinori. But Toshinori was just as confused as him. “Nothing like that ever happened when I held the quirk,” he says. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you more.” 

But they started meditating more. Toshinori started reading the journals his foster mother left him. He was looking for answers just as much as Izuku wished he had them. 

Sometimes when he’s asleep, he can hear the murmurs of voices in his head, all talking quietly. 

‘We have to tell him.’

‘Not, now.’

‘When, then? It’ll be too late.’ 

‘Soon. We will, soon.’ 

“Let’s try meditating,” says Toshinori. “I know how pent up you are. Try and relax a little. I heard there was a party at the pub later tonight. Why don’t you go?” 

“What would be the point?” Izuku asks as he closes his eyes, and tries to not focus on the buzzing in his skin or the images of a woman and man or the images of dead bodies on the ground. 

“Well, for one thing,” says Toshinori. “It’s important for you to have fun, no?” 

“Fun,” says Izuku. “There isn’t anything fun. I’ve been suffering in my own body for months. I can’t even get one good night's sleep without waking up from a nightmare.” Toshinori is silent and then. 

“You can always tell him, Izuku,” he says. “It is your choice after all. It’s your quirk as much as it was mine.” 

Izuku sighs. “I know. I’m scared… if I tell him. What will happen then? He’ll be in more danger than before. He could be killed.” His heart tells him to do it, but his mind screams at him to not. 

“Sometimes it’s best to just follow your heart,” says Toshinori. “Why don’t we practice on your quirk for now? You’ve gotten better at keeping it steady.” 

Controlling the quirk was difficult. He couldn’t figure out how to activate it without trying to break his own bones. Plus, the Recovery girl isn’t here with them, and he can’t risk injuring himself. He nods as he gets up and concentrates his breath. He tries to put all his movement into his hands, and then pushes it out and nothing comes. He groans. 

“I can’t,” he says. “We’ve been doing this for weeks, Mister Yagi. And everytime I can't even spruce up a bit of power. Only when I truly have to think of someone being in danger does it come out.”

Toshinori hums. “Why don’t you start thinking of the quirk as your own?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Maybe, subconsciously you’re keeping yourself from activating because you believe it is not your quirk.” 

Well, it isn’t. Technically. He has only consumed this power to save Kacchan, and yet here he was, trying to train his body to understand that this power will help them. But maybe it could work. 

“Well, how do I do that?” 

“Think of yourself and the quirk as one. You are both equals,” says Toshinori. “After all the quirk can’t work without you. It’s up to you to accept the quirk as your own before anything else.” 

Izuku breathes and tries to think of the quirk as his. Anything that will help him. Come on. Work. It’s my quirk. Right? My quirk. Mine. Mine. 

He tries to push out a punch of air and nothing comes. He groans again, falling on his bum. “Who knew having a quirk was this difficult.” 

Toshinori chuckles. “You won’t get it on the first try,” he says. “Practice more. Meditate more. Think more happy stuff. You know what I think? I think you should go to that party tonight.” 

Izuku grimaces. “I don’t know…” 

“Try.” Toshinori says. “Plus, I have to leave in the morning, either way. I won’t be around to help you more. Think of asking Katsuki.” 

“You’re leaving?! Why?” Izuku asks, looking back at him. 

“I’m leaving with Aizawa and Nemuri,” says Toshinori. “We have to visit the Capitol, talk with others , and start to prepare for the Victor’s Parade.”

The Victor’s parade. It had slipped his mind that that was going to start soon. He is going to have to be reminded of all the pain. He’s going to face the families of the people he has killed. Of the people he has watched die. 

Of the people he knows hate him. 

“Oh,” says Izuku. “Right.” 

“I suggest you try to … relax more,” says Toshinori. “I know it’s hard. But it’s the best thing you could give yourself.” 

That I could give myself. 

Relaxing sounded… like a privelege. Did he deserve that? To relax and unwind and let himself enjoy? After everything, was he allowed that? 

“I’ll try,” he settles with. Toshinori must be happy with that answer because he smiles and nods. 

“That’s good,” says Toshinori. “Should we head out?” 

If relaxing meant… getting over his fear of the forest. Then so be it. “I’ll catch up,” says Izuku. This surprises Toshinori. He had never stayed longer when they were there. He smiles. 

“Alright, then,” says Toshinori. Then he’s leaving and Izuku is sitting down again. He tries to ignore the fear in him starting to build up as he hears the sweet sound of the leaves… the birds the swooshing of the air. He breathes in and out. 

I’m not there. I’m okay. 

Get over your fear, Izuku. You’re no longer in the arena. You’re safe. 

A crack. He jumps. 

When it’s just a small rabbit he sighs. There’s nothing. You’re safe. 

He lets himself quiet down, letting his body relax against the turmoil going on in his head. Letting his body relax against the pounding in his heart, against the shakiness in his limbs. The way his mouth sours, the way he wishes to leave. 

And then, like a dream, it comes. 

He’s not asleep. So, why is he here? 

“You’re here,” says the voice. Izuku opens his eyes and almost gasps—but he can’t. His mouth is covered against the black mist as he looks to the person in front of him. The woman is there as well, but behind her and behind the man, there are 5 more people. These are all people, aren’t they? 

He tries to speak. Tries to ask. Why have you been seeking me out? What is it you want? Why can I ses you? Who are you?  

The man with white hair must realize the inner turmoil in him, as he smiles. “My name is Yoichi,” he says. Yoichi… he tries to rack his name somewhere in his mind. Maybe he has met one and has finally gone crazy? “You’re not asleep,” says Yoichi. “We are simply communicating to you through your mind. Just as we can communicate with you, you can reach out for us.” He says. He doesn’t introduced the ones in the back. The ones covered in black mist or the burly man, and the man with black hair. The woman with black hair is staring back at him with sympathy, a small smile on her face. 

He still can’t speak. 

“We’re your vessels,” says the man. “And we’ll meet again, soon.” He says, and they’re disappearing again, and Izuku wants them to stop. Wait! Wait! I need to know. Who are you?! 

‘We are your family, now.’ Is the quiet murmur that replies back at him. 

“Family?” Izuku says out loud as his eyes open and he is greeted with the forest. That’s… insane. What has just happened? 

He decides maybe it’s time to go back. 

As he goes back he starts to remember the conversation he had with Toshinori long ago about the quirk… and he starts to wonder if maybe these people are those people from his story. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” says Toshinori as he brings his arms up at Izuku’s useless attempt at turning his quirk on. “You need to think of this… a little more simpler.” 

“I don’t understand!” Izuku bellows. “I mean… this quirk just doesn’t make any sense! I expected it to be strong but not this strong!” He exclaims. “I mean how can you expect me, to be able to make this my own? I’ve never had to rely on a quirk. I don’t even need one! I’m perfectly fine quirkless!” 

He had been trying to at least turn the quirk back on, and attempt after attempt he just couldn’t. It made him go insane! Toshinori is taking his time to try and train his quirk and yet he can never figure it out. Toshinori doesn’t tell him he’s doing a bad job, he just kept encouraging him. It felt nice to be supported, but most of all Izuku felt awful. The quirk would only react when he was in danger, and ever since they got back from the Capitol, it would no longer turn on. 

“Let’s take a break,” says Toshinori. “Maybe if I tell you the story of its origin, you’ll understand it more.” 

Izuku sits down, grumpily, as he takes the tea offered to him. Toshinori always brings small things for them to consume during their morning trips. Mom always thinks he’s out hunting and he hasn’t really told Kacchan about these trips. 

“It’s origin?” Izuku asks. 

“Yes,” says Toshinori. “As you know… everything has an origin. As well as this quirk. Before you, there was me, and before myself it was my foster mother, Nana Shimura. 

Shimura? 

“Shimura?” Izuku asks out loud the name sounding familiar. “Where have I heard that name before?” 

“Tenko Shimura,” says Toshinori. Izuku’s eyes widened. 

“What?! No way…” he says. 

Toshinori nods sadly. “My foster mother… well my mother,” he says. “Had a very hard life before she adopted me. I was a little quirkless boy who was homeless and an orphan,” he says. “She latched on to me because she had lost her own son… and she kept me.” He says. “We learned to love each other as family. We were the missing pieces to each other.” 

Izuku hums. 

“Long ago…” says Toshinori. “My mother had a child named Kotaro. It was her only child. And as you know, Nana was a victor. But she wasn’t a Victor in District 12,” she says. “She was actually from District 2.” Izuku listens intently. 

“When she had won her first games… she was 18. She had a boyfriend then, and had a child with him. When she turned 22, President Shigaraki had wanted to sell her for her… body,” he puts lightly. 

“What…?” Izuku asks. “He can… he can do that?” He asks breathless. 

Toshinori nods sadly. “Yes. Unfortunately, he can. Why do you think you and Katsuki becoming a couple is important? You’re both well liked. Young, good looking. He would take every opportunity to sell you and Young Bakugou. It is crucial you both stay together.” He says seriously. Izuku swallows, fear taking over at the thought. Sell his body? 

“And… Did he?” Izuku asks. 

“No. She refused,” says Toshinori. He deflates. “But… her refusing became a dire consequence for herself. Kotaro was 4 then, and Shigaraki deemed it was important for her to face the consequence of her actions.” He says gloomily. “To this day… if she were still alive, I knew she would continue to regret denying his demand.” 

Izuku looks away. “He had taken her away from him. She didn’t kill. No, he didn’t. Sometimes… I think it would have been better if he did. Kotaro was left in District 2, in an orphanage, while he killed her boyfriend. While my foster mother… she was sent to District 12 to become a Peacekeeper, and she would spend her remaining days living in this poor district,” he says. 

“Of course, Shigaraki thought that Nana would suffer more like this. Knowing her child was alive, but without parents and he knew that with that pain, Kotaro would grow to be loathful and hateful.” 

“It turns out… he was correct,” he says wistfully. “After Nana found me, she had watched Kotaro be reaped into the games. He won. And after, he had a child with a woman named Hao, which then he later had two children named Tenko and Hana Shimura,” he says. He then scratches his chin. “Then this is where it gets confusing… something happened to them, I’m not sure what. But they died. All of them except Tenko Shimura.” He says. “You have to understand, Young Midoriya. That this was an extremely sensitive time. Everyone had loved that little family. They loved looking into the lives of the Victor’s. Nana knew who Tenko Shimura was, but there was no way of her being able to reach out for him and help. Later, he was taken to the academy of the gifted by President Shigaraki.” 

“President… Shigaraki?” Izuku asks, astounded. “He scouted him out? But, why?” 

“I’m not sure,” says Toshinori. “But I always believed it was for evil intentions. Because despite all the horror he went through, he let him be reaped into the games two years ago. Before all of this though, when I was reaped, I had met the boy when he was quite young. Apparently, he knew who I was.” He says. “He said I must’ve been Nana’s preferred son, since she didn’t want her other one.” 

“What?” Izuku says. “But why would he say that?” 

“I have to assume that Shigaraki or well… Kotaro must’ve had said something to twist his beliefs in what had happened to Nana.”

“But… there’s no way Tenko could be easily influenced like that, right?” 

“Tenko was merely a child,” says Toshinori, wistfully. “A child who has lost his own family. He didn’t have time to grieve before the Capitol sent him into the academy to train to become a career.” He says. “When he won… everyone believed it must’ve been fate that he came from a long line of winners.” 

“Wait, so everyone knew Nana was his grandmother? And they didn’t try reuniting him?” 

“It’s taboo to talk or mention any banished or punished people. Once Nana was punished and sent away, she didn’t have any permission to leave again.” He says. 

“Oh,” he deflates. “That’s awful.” 

“It is,” says Toshinori. “But this isn’t what I was meant to tell you. Nana Shimura was the person before me… and before her there was a man, and another man. If I remember correctly, this quirk has been passed down 8 times, including myself, which makes you the 9th.” 

“So, if it’s been passed down that many times why hasn’t anyone done anything to stop President Shigaraki?” 

“You have to understand, Izuku,” says Toshinori. “We can have the power of the quirk, but we don’t have the power of an entire nation. If we went to war with the Capitol… with President Shigaraki… we would be dissolved into nothing but dust like District 13,” he says. 

District 13’s bombing had been a lesson to those who wanted to fight back or become traitors to the Capitol. If they didn’t follow orders, rules, they would be reduced to nothing but ashes. This fear kept people in place. 

“Oh,” he says. “That makes sense.” 

“I almost had it,” says Toshinori. “The support of the Districts. I was so close to having it. With their support, we could have fought back. This horrible thing could’ve been done. But I got too close and I got burned… he had killed my mother and he had killed my best friend.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No need,” says Toshinori. “I knew long ago that what I was doing would have dire consequences. Which is why I need you to know if you understand the consequences you might face.” 

He’s not. He won’t be able to take it if his actions are paid by someone else. Especially… especially… he shakes his head. 

“I…” says Izuku. “I never thought of it. Not really.” 

“It’s hard,” says Toshinori. “Of thinking of our loved ones like that. But in order for us to be brought back to peace… back to a better world we must let go.” 

“I don’t think I’d be able to do that,” he says honestly. “These people… they are my life.” 

“Yes, I know,” he replies sadly. 

He continues. 

“Before the 7 of us, there was a man,” says Toshinori. “He was brother of Shigaraki. I don’t remember his name right now… but once I go back to my mother’s old house, I’ll find for a notebook.” 

“President Shigaraki had brothers?!” He asked surprised. 

“Yes, but it is kept very well hidden,” says Toshinori. “He killed his own brother 60 years ago…” he says. “He was trying to take his quirk… but his brother had ended up giving it to someone else. This would continue for the next 60 years, as he will try and look for the quirk in all of his tributes.” He says. “And when he does find it… he can’t take it. This quirk can’t be forcefully taken. It’s a gift given to us. It can only be given.” 

Izuku looks down at his scarred hand. A gift… 

“What Shigaraki doesn’t know is that this quirk slowly becomes stronger,” he says. “This power… this gift… it’s meant to defeat him. Until it reaches its peak in power and eventually the person holding it can defeat him.” 

“So this inner family fight has been going on for 60 years?” He asked surprised. 

“More,” says Toshinori. “They’ve never been good at being siblings, but he finally took action 60 years ago.”

“That’s awful.” 

“When I find Nana’s thins I’ll read them,” he says. “But everyday I find it horrible to know that Tenko is suffering… and we are doing nothing to help. He’s technically my nephew.” 

If he puts it that way… than yeah. 

“So, if he wants it that bad, why doesn’t he just kill you?” Izuku asks. He had wondered this many times. If President Shigaraki loathed Toshinori, because of what his mentor had done and what he had tried to do, and he knows he has the quirk he desperately wants, why doesn’t he just do it like he does everyone else? Death. 

“Because if I die, he won’t be able to get it,” says Toshinori. “This quirk can only be given through want. I would have to want to give it to you. It can’t be taken forcefully. He wants it for himself, but he knows if he kills me, it’ll cease to exist.” 

“But if it doesn’t exist, he won’t have to worry about someone defeating him,” says Izuku. 

“Yes, that’s true,” says Toshinori. “But one thing he is, is selfish. And he would rather have the quirk than for it to cease to exist.” 

“Because it’s strong? He’s that greedy?” 

Toshinori nods. “Believe that greed can go as far as taking lives, young man. It can go as far to lead someone to insanity.” 

Izuku nods. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he says softly. 

Toshinori smiles. “It’s alright. After all, I had a good life with Nana, even if she lived a short while. She will forever be my mother and I will forever be her son. We might not be bound by blood, but we run thicker than that. Don’t we?” He asks lightly. 

Izuku smiles. “Yeah, I guess we do.” 

Izuku sighs wistfully at the memory. That’s right, he had totally forgotten about that story. It was important to his dreams wasn’t it? There was seven people there… so it must be his predecessors! It was the only plausible explanation. 

He walks back silently to the house, the sun had been high up for a while now… he must’ve taken long. 

As he reaches his house, a little while after roaming around the town, saying hello to the people, even seeing Eijirou but no Kacchan in sight he decides to get to the Victor’s Village. What a horrible name. They should all be giving such luxury. 

As he gets to the door, he feels something is amiss… there’s a fancy door outside and a couple of footsteps on the ground from the fallen snow.

Izuku opens the door, and feels a little off at the fact the door is unlocked. He takes his boots off, and places his bow and arrow next to the door (he only brings it in case he needs to protect himself… from what?) He walks into the other room and almost stops at the sight of two peacekeepers. They’re watching him. Izuku stares at the one to the right, his angry fine lines and blue eyes. And then to the next, a paler woman, with green eyes and much kinder eyes. 

“Izuku!” A tiny voice is heard., Eri comes running in hugging Izuku. Izuku hugs back, as she explains, “You came back from your walk!” 

“Izuku, dear,” says Mom, as she walks into the room they’re all in. “Did you have a good walk?” 

They both know he was in the forest, he always go to the forest in the mornings when Kacchan isn’t around. And yet, they’re hiding it. Almost every peacekeeper knew he would go into the forest with Toshinori. So, these two strangers, these peacekeepers in his home, have every bell in his head ringing in alarm. “I did,” says Izuku, as he parts away with Eri. The peacekeepers are watching him with rapt curiosity. “No animals?” The man asks. “I don’t have to arrest you for something illegal?” 

“No,” says Izuku smoothly. “Obviously, not. I was on a stroll—nothing else.” 

The woman looks over to the man, frowning. “He has nothing… don’t be rude to Deku! He is obviously a winner and he should be respected for it.” Is that the only way to gain their respect? 

“You have a visitor,” says Mom steadil, interrupting them. No one else can tell, but Izuku can. Mom is nervous. But it’s hidden well behind her steady and firm gaze. Her fingers are wringing her apron, her eye flicker to the peacekeepers and Izuku’s mouth thins. Izuku can even see a bead of sweat fall down her forehead. “He’s in your father’s study. I’ll be making lunch in the meantime,” She adds, as she goes back into the kitchen, and she is much more nervous than he realized with the way she wobbles into the kitchen. Eri follows behind her, giving him one last worried look. 

Izuku walks to his father’s study. Why would anyone be in there? Izuku barely went into his fathers study. Not after he died at least. But mom always kept it clean and tidy, said that in the afterlife Dad could come and check up. He didn’t believe in all that afterlife crap. If dad wanted to visit, then he shouldn’t have died. Still, he was a kid when Dad died. 

But he still knew enough respect to not go into his father’s study. So, who would dare go in there? 

He stomps to the room, an angry glare on his face as he opens the door. Immediately, the angry glare dissolves as shock overtakes instead. 

In his father’s study, a man sits on his chair. He’s stirring a spoon in his tea cup. He doesn’t look up but he says, “Mister Midoriya. Isn’t it lovely to see you again?” He asks, smiling. 

It’s President Shigaraki. 

President… Shigaraki.. has come to visit him? Izuku feels his mouth dry. Shigaraki gives him a small smile. “Shocked? How could I not come visit my most famous and loved tribute?” Izuku feels fear, as if he was back at the games. He cannot even form words. Izuku feels his heart shake but he regains his voice. “Such bravery, such spirit… what a quirk…” he comments as the screen shows him and Katsuki, pretending to eat the berries. And then to footage of Izuku, activating his quirk. 

“President Shigaraki,” says Izuku, albeit over a whisper. “What an honor,” he walks forward. 

“My dear, I think,” says Shigaraki, “It would be best for us not to lie to each other, here.” 

“I agree,” says Izuku, as he looks at him. Shigaraki is staring at him with a contemplating face. “It would save us time.” 

“Sit down, please,” says Shigaraki, and so he does. The footage disappears, as Izuku tries to get comfortable in his father’s study. “I have a problem, Mister Midoriya,” says Shigaraki. Izuku watches the birds outside, how they’re perched on the branch. How free they are. “And it all started when you revealed those berries in the arena.” 

Izuku stays quiet as he listens. 

“If that gamemaker Nine had any sense and brains at all, he would have shot you on the spot then and there,” says Shigaraki, he’s still stirring the spoon in the cup. Izuku feels a sense of dread coming forth in this conversation. “But here you are, and I expect you can guess where he is.” 

“Yes, I believe so,” says Izuku , as he puts his hands in his lap, wringing them together. 

“After that fiasco, there was nothing left to do but let you play out your little scenario.” Shigaraki smiles, “And it was very good. I applaud you for the theatrics, Mister Midoriya, but unfortunately not everyone has the same views as in the Capitol.” 

Izuku swallows the clump of words starting to form. Just stay quiet. He hasn’t seen him in so long. Not since his coronation back after the games. This is unsettling to say the least. 

“Not many of the districts fell for it,” says Shigaraki. “In several of them, people viewed your little trick with the berries… an act of defiance. Not of love.” He says bitterly, giving him a small glance as he finishes stirring the spoon. 

But how could that be? It wasn’t an act of defiance. Izuku did love Kacchan, and everyone in District 12 knew it. It was an act of love, but then again, no one in the districts knew them. Not literally. They were just two people on the screen, ‘acting out’ a play of love and tragedy so they could get their way. 

“And if a little quirkless boy from District 12 can defy the Capitol and walk away unharmed,” he gestures with the spoon before putting it down next to the plate. “What is to prevent them from saying, doing the same?” 

Izuku feels terror, as he watches Shigaraki look at him with a sense of… disgust. If that’s the word to put it. In reality, he can’t feel anything but the thumping of his heart as Shigaraki explains and how irritated he sounds.

“Let’s say, an uprising? A revolution?” Shigaraki comments. “That will cause our entire system to collapse.” 

But Izuku won’t let this man frighten him. He looks up and says, “It must be a fragile system if it can be brought down by a couple of berries.” 

Shigaraki gives a small laugh, “Yes it is indeed. But not how you should imagine it.” 

“How should I, then?” 

“You should imagine thousands upon thousands of your people dead,” he says sharply. Izuku falls silent, his gaze fallen to the crumpled shirt on his body. He remembers Toshinori’s words: 

Fear is great controller. 

“This town of yours is reduced to ashes. Imagine it gone. Buried under dirt, as if it never existed like District 13.” 

Izuku can’t imagine that. 

“You fought very hard in the games, but those were games,” says Shigaraki. “Would you like to be in a real war?” 

“No,” Izuku says immediately. He would rather not. 

“Neither would I,” he smiles, as he dips the cookie inside of tea. “Did your mother make these?” 

“Kacchan,” he whispers. Kacchan always knew how to bake. A perk of being a hot headed boy with a mother who could cook. He often brought for them… Izuku had started eating them less and less because he didn’t feel the need to deserve any sweets. (Mochi, mochi, mochi.) Yet, as he stares at Shigaraki eat them, he realizes that he deserves it less than he does. 

“Ah, he’s a lovely boy,” says Shigaraki. “Fiery. With an attitude, but a lovely boy nonetheless,” he says. “At what point did he realize your indifference towards your… quirk?” 

“I’m not indifferent,” he says. 

“Don’t lie!” Shigaraki says loudly, Izuku snaps his mouth shut. 

“I’m not as much as worried about your love story with that boy than I am of your quirk,” says Shigaraki. “Because you are quirkless… aren’t you?” He asks. He pulls out a file, and puts it on the desk. Izuku takes a good look at it. It’s him. His profile, with age, height, eye color, everything to be known about him. And in bold letters it’s stamped. 

Quirkless. 

“But imagine my surprise…” says Shigaraki. “When said quirkless boy… develops a quirk in the middle of the battle field.” 

Izuku swallows as he looks away. This is a secret. He can’t say this. Especially not to him. Instead he blurts out, “Why don’t you just kill me?” He asks. 

“I don’t want to kill you,” he says honestly. “I want us to be friends. But if not friends, then allies,” he says. 

“What do you want me to do?” Izuku looks up. 

“When you and Katsuki are on tour, you need to smile, you need to be grateful, but above all you need to be madly in love with him,” says Shigaraki. “And you must not talk about the origin of your quirk, at all.” 

“Yes,” says Izuku. 

“Yes, what?” 

“I’ll convince them,” he whispers. 

“No,” says Shigaraki. “Convince me.” 

Izuku nods, and stays silent, and then it seems Shigaraki is not done as he says, “And please do tell me, how it came to be with your so-called, quirk?” He asks. 

Izuku feels his eyes shut, as he tries to come up with a liable excuse. He can’t tell him. He can’t tell him it’s from Toshinori. He’ll kill him. He can’t risk it. He can’t. Izuku has known this story for a while now. He knows how much Shigaraki wants it. “I’m not sure… I think maybe it was because of the stress of being in the battle field, and seeing Kacchan injured.” 

“Hm,” says Shigaraki, as if he’s considering this. “It could be. However, none of your ancestors seem to have an ounce of super strength in their quirks, right? Your mother… with a small weak quirk, and your father who used to have a fire breathing quirk.” He adds. “How could this quirk come to be, hm?” 

“I… I’m not sure,” he says. “I really… i don't know. It all just came to me in battle. I was so busy trying to keep myself and Kacchan alive, I hadn’t given it a second thought,” he says, wriggling his fingers together, just as his mother does. 

Shigaraki closes his eyes and hums. “Alright then, I won’t keep up your time any further. But do best believe that this discussion of your ‘quirk’,” he says, “will come in time, again.” He stands up. Izuku stays seated in the chair. 

“And please do, convince me,” he says, “For the sake of your loved ones.” He walks out, as Izuku stays looking at his father’s study, at the worksheet of himself on the table. 

IZUKU MIDORIYA 

AGE: 17 

BORN: JULY 15, XX-XX 

GENDER: MALE 

HEIGHT: 166 CM (5,5) 

HAIR COLOR: GREEN 

EYE COLOR: GREEN 

BLOOD TYPE: O 

And then in big bold letters, 

Quirk: QUIRKLESS. 

And beneath those papers are different files, of his father and of his mother. Of Eri. With her newly developed quirk. 

Eri Midoriya (ADOPTED) — 

Quirk: REWIND. 

Inko Midoriya (MOTHER) — 

Quirk: Levitation of small objects. 

Hisashi Midoriya (FATHER, DECEASED) — 

Quirk: Fire Breath. 

And in small notes, there is, Super-power quirk? New developed quirk? 

He groans as he puts his hands in his head. This all went to shit, quite quickly. 

He didn’t think he would be mad about the berries. About the quirk. But he was warned. That this was rather an act of defiance than one of love. Even if Izuku did love Kacchan, everyone else wouldn’t be able to see it, since they weren’t them. 

What should he do now? Abide his orders, obviously. But then, what? Live under the pressure that Shigaraki could kill him, his family and Kacchan all in one go if he fails? 

He can’t fail this. 

He could kill Toshinori. Aizawa. Even Ochako’s parents as punishment. Didn’t they suffer enough? Couldn’t they just let him live in peace now? He had won. He didn’t want anything else. He just wanted to survive and survive with Kacchan. 

Someone knocks, and he croaks, “Come in.” 

Eri and Mom double in as they stare at Izuku. “They left,” says Eri softly. 

“Oh, Izuku,” says Mom, as she hugs him. 

“Mom, this is terrible,” says Izuku, as she views the papers on the desk. 

“What’s all this?” Inko asks, as she views Izuku’s page and then Eri’s. “Why would he need this?” 

Izuku shrugs, as he plays with the hem of his shirt. “I don’t know… he’s skeptical.” 

“Of what?” Mom asks, her gaze turning sharp as she looks at him. “Didn’t your quirk manifest randomly.” 

“That’s… that’s what they said, yeah,” Izuku murmurs. 

Inko frowns as she puts the pages back into the folder. Eri hums. “You missed my seventh birthday, Izuku,” she says. “When you were gone, back in the games.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Izuku asks her. “I’m sorry, Eri. I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers. She laughs as he tickles her side. 

“They’re worried,” says Mom, not bothering to ask about his indifference towards the ask of his quirk. “Of Eri.” 

“Why?” He says, braiding a piece of her hair. 

“Her quirk,” she says. “It’s uncontrollable.” She says. “She can’t quite handle it. It’s too strong.” 

“I bet,” says Izuku, as he looks at Eri. “What does it do again?” 

“I’m not sure… they just labeled it as Rewind,” she says. “Say it rewinds the state of someone,” she explains. 

“Hm,” Izuku thinks. “Well. Im going to go hunt, if he’s gone already,” he says, getting up. 

“Izuku?” Mom asks. 

“Yeah?”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” She asks softly. 

Izuku feels the buzz of the quirk behind his head. The murmur of different voices in his head. He feels the thrum of it in his veins, something buzzing like uncertainty and anger. But not from him. From something else. Someone else .  

“Give me time, Mom,” says Izuku softly. “I’ll be back.” 

Mom gives him a sad smile before nodding. “Okay, honey. Be back before dinner, alright?” 

Izuku nods, and he leaves.

+

He didn't sleep well that night. 

In fact, he doesn’t sleep at all. 

The words of Shigaraki haunt him all night. Toshinori has left with Aizawa to the Capitol, and now he has no one to rely on. He could always go to Nemuri. But he was rather shy with her, he couldn’t let go that she had never let Ochako go. Not really. Sometimes, he would see her at her fake grave. Where a grave is sat, but there is no body buried. 

He could go to Kacchan… but Kacchan is… angry at him. 

His silence is his worst enemy apparently.  

He could easily get up and find him. Maybe… maybe he could finally open up. 

He gets up, and puts on clothes. He tries to not look so tired, but ends up ruffling his curls messily. He knows he looks like a mess, the faces of his friends haunting him back in the mirror. He slowly leaves his room, creeping down the hall and sees Eri and Mom asleep cuddling together. He smiles softly at the picture they paint. 

He leaves the house, walking down the cold-snow filled trail. It’s quite cold now, the air chilling and biting at times. He burrows himself in his jacket as he reaches Kacchan’s house. It’s not far from his. After all, they live right next to each other. He grabs a pebble from the floor and tosses it up to his window. Kacchan doesn’t come out. Is he asleep? He does so again, and yet no response comes. 

He continues for a few more minutes before he gives up. He’s starting to device to go back home when he hears a shout of glee come from the center of town. 

The party. 

He walks down slowly, creeping down the town as he follows the trail to the pub. He hasn’t really been to the pub since he was young. When his mother would take him to have fun with the other kids. Actually, he doesn’t remember a time besides when he was a kid when he did come here. 

He reaches the pub, and sees people outside drinking, inside there is more people. He sees Ashido, Eijirou’s girlfriend singing up on stage, her curly pink hair bouncing on her shoulders and her traditional District 12 dress dancing with her. She’s smiling. She’s happy. 

He looks a little further in, deciding to step inside. First, there’s a lot of people. He knows he must look odd, with his hair all over the place, his eyes tired and his eye bags dark and huge. His messed up clothes and over all he just looks like a mess. He tries to not let the stares get to him. He goes through the crowd, and eventually finds Eijirou. “Eiji?” He says. He’s smiling. He’s happy. 

Eiji turns around, and frowns. “Oh, Izuku!” He says. “I didn’t expect you to come,” he says nervously. 

Izuku sighs. “I’m trying to find Kacchan. Do you know where he is?” He asks, looking around. 

Eijirou gulps, “Maybe right now isn’t a good time, Izuku—“ He reaches his arm out.

Before he gets to say anything else, Izuku catches him. The blonde spiky hair in the background. He smiles, finally, finally happy. Kacchan is here. Surprisingly, so. This isn’t exactly Kacchan’s scene. Like at all. “Kacchan—?” He goes to yell but soon it falls as he watches Kacchan. Kacchan. 

Kacchan. His Kacchan, who he leeches onto. Who he can’t live without. Kacchan who is angry at him, who Izuku wishes he could finally be with. Izuku who wishes things could go back to normal. Izuku who wishes he didn’t have nightmares or threats to his life. Kacchan. His best friend. 

Kacchan who’s smiling at a girl. 

Kacchan who’s dancing with a girl. He looks… happy. 

Of course he’s happy, he thinks bitterly. Why wouldn’t he be? He didn’t kill Chisaki. He didn’t waHiroki die. He didn't watch Toga and Ochako fall in love. He didn’t—  

Shhh, the voices whispers. That’s wrong. He’s your friend. 

That’s… true. Kacchan… he shouldn’t say stuff like that. Think stuff like that. Kacchan suffered as much as he did. Is he going to let jealousy really control his emotions like this? 

But, oh… 

How he wishes he could be the one making him happy. Before, Izuku can turn around, and leave. Just leave. What was he thinking coming here? He was stupid. Kacchan didn’t want him. Kacchan was his friend. Kacchan had protected him, but because they’ve been best friends their entire lives. So what if Kacchan was dancing with a girl? He deserved to be happy. (Did you, you monster? Murderer? Killer?) 

Kacchan looks up for a moment, his smile leaving as he makes eye contact with Izuku. Kacchan has never smiled at me like that. 

Izuku gulps, tries to will the tears away as he turns around. Eijirou looks at a loss, his eyes open and sad and his mouth open. “Izuku— I—“ 

“Thanks, Eijirou,” says Izuku softly. “You’re a good friend to him.” He says. “I have to go.” He says quickly as he leaves faster than he came. 

I’m going to have a panic attack. Fuck—oh, god. Ffuck, fuck. I can’t breath. He holds his chest painfully as air doesn’t come out. He tries to breath, but he can’t. His heart is shattering, somewhere in the back of his mind, his soul is.. breaking. He can’t breathe, I can't breath. He feels dizzy. His breath leaving as he makes it around the corner where no one is around and he leans against the wall, trying to breathe deeply. 

He needs help. I can’t breath. Help. Help. Kacchan. Kacchan. Where is he? He knows what to do? Fuck. “Hah,” he wheezes. “Hah.” 

“Deku!” Kacchan’s voice comes. “Where are you?!” 

I can’t breath. I’m drowning. I CANT BREATH. I’M DYING—

Hands are grabbing him, by his sides. Warm hands, familiar hands, holding his face gently. Someone is talking to him but he can’t bother paying attention. His vision is too blurry to make out the figure. They’re saying something. They’re holding on tightly. It grounds him back to reality enough that he can finally hear them. 

“Breath, Izuku,” says Kacchan softly. “Breath. You’re okay. You’re here. In district 12. With me. We’re safe. We’re not there.” He repeats these words, murmuring praises as he starts breathing again. 

Finally, after what seems like forever, Izuku calms down, his heartbeat going back to normal. 

“Kacchan,” he says softly. “Thank you.” 

“Izuku,” warm hands grab his face again as they direct him up, until he’s staring into his red eyes. “What are you doing here?” 

Suddenly, he feels embarrassed. 

Why is he here? 

He couldn’t sleep so he came to ruin Kacchan’s night of fun? Kacchan’s get-away from the reality of a Victor? Kacchan having fun for once? Smiling and happy? Who is he to ruin that? 

Who is he? 

“I’m sorry,” says Izuku. “I didn’t meant to ruin your night.” 

Kacchan frowns. “What? You didn’t ruin anything.” 

“But… you looked so… happy.” Izuku murmurs. So carefree. 

“Izuku,” says Kacchan again. “You will never ruin my night. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

I’m not. I’m worried. This quirk… it has more mysteries by the minute. Mom is starting to catch on. You seem so far away even though you’re here. 

I’m scared. 

Shigaraki is threatening everyone because of me. I failed again. I’m just a worthless, useless, runt. I make things difficult for everyone. I can’t even sleep without having night terrors. I miss you. I miss your arms, your warmth. Your eyes, your smile. 

I’m terrified that this is all a dream and I’m going to wake up and find you gone. I’m scared everyone will die because of me. 

“I’m… okay,” he whispers, lying in the dark. 

“Izuku…” says Kacchan. “Talk to me,” he pleads. 

Shigaraki smiles cold and unforgiving. “For the sake of your loved ones.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” says Izuku. He stands up, regaining his balance as he dusts himself off. “I’m sorry, Kacchan. I had a bad night.”

Kacchan frowns, grabbing his hand tightly. “Izuku. Don’t leave. I know you’re hiding something. I’ve been known. You don’t have to hide. You can be truthful here with me.” 

Izuku’s eyes fall down to the floor where Kacchan’s shoes are. Shiny and brand new, ones Auntie Mitsuki made for his birthday. Fitting for someone like Kacchan who only deserves the best. 

“I can’t,” he whispers. 

“Yes, you can!” Kacchan says, louder this time. Izuku looks up. “You can, and you’re stoping yourself. Why? Izuku, why?” 

“I…” 

“You’re letting yourself be this unhappy. Just talk to me, and I can help you,” he pleads. “Please.” 

“I can’t,” he says. Please, forgive me. 

“You can ,” he says angrily. “Don’t be a coward, Deku.” 

This is the wrong thing to say, as Izuku stops and looks up, eyes wide and hurt. Kacchan must have realized what he said as he looks down. Izuku isn’t a coward. He’s afraid but he’s not a coward. He had suffered so much, and it wasn’t fair that he shouldn’t be afraid of things. 

He had so much to be afraid of. 

“Don’t you know… how much I’ve missed you?” Kacchan asks softly. His hand on his hand not letting go. Izuku closes his eyes. Kacchan holding onto him like a lifeline. Izuku tries and tries and all he can imagine is Kacchan’s body, dead, six feet underground and his world breaks. 

Toshinori’s words came back to him like wildfire. 

‘The best thing we can do is let go.’

I’m sorry, Kacchan. Izuku thinks. I’ve made you suffer. 

“Maybe we’re better off alone “ Izuku croaks, his eyes red and his throat closing up. 

Kacchan becomes stiff. His entire demeanor changes as he snaps his gaze back at him. It’s like something changes in his look, the kind eyes once that were looking at him, the hand that was curling his hair behind his ear, it retracts painfully and Kacchan’s gaze closes off. 

“Are you serious?” Kacchan says, almost like he had heard wrong. 

I can do this. To keep him safe.

Izuku swallows. “We are, aren’t we?”

“How could you say that?” Kacchan asks, his voice harsh and unforgiving. “After everything we’ve been through? Are you seriously saying that?” 

Izuku hunches in himself, feeling the tears starting to pool. “The only way I can keep you safe… is like this.” 

“What are you talking about?” Kacchan demands. “Izuku. We’re safe. We’re out of that goddamn arena. What could you possibly be so afraid of?” 

President Shigaraki taking you. Killing you. Taking Eri. Mom. Auntie and Uncle. Taking everyone I love and I’ll be left alone. Everyone I love dead because of me. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“You don’t know that,” says Izuku harshly. 

“You’re right,” says Kacchan. “I don’t.” 

His face is angry, hurt and confusion settling in like disease. “Because you won’t tell me anything,” he continues. “You’re acting like we’re strangers, Izuku. We’ve known each other all of our lives, and suddenly you want to act like I’m a hindrance to you?” 

“No,” Izuku says immediately. “That’s not what I mean at all!” 

Please, understand me. 

“It seems like it,” he says angrily. “What? You think pushing everyone away is your fucking answer? You think anything good will come from this? Think again, Deku. I know you’re smart.” 

Izuku wants to be angry. He does. But he knows Kacchan is right. What could he possibly gain from being alone? They’ll be safe , the cruel part of his mind says. His heart says otherwise. 

“You don’t understand,” says Izuku, as he tries to step away. Kacchan’s hold is tight and bruising.  

“Oh, I don’t ?” Kacchan laughs mockingly. “That’s amazing to know, Deku. Tell me, what don’t I understand?” 

Izuku glares through his eyelashes, wishing he could go back in time. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be fighting Kacchan. He shouldn’t be pushing him away. But the fear of him being killed. The fear of finding him dead one day. The fears that his nightmares show him that could be true at any moment is eating him alive faster than he could properly think. The fear of Shigaraki’s threats. The fear that his words will became reality. 

“You don’t,” says Izuku sharply. “You don’t understand what the fuck I have to do.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you too good now to ask for help? Is that it? You’re fancy new quirk finally blew up your ego sooo much that you can’t stand being around us little people?” Kacchan says snarkily. 

Izuku eyebrows shoots up in surprise at that, lip curling in anger. “I would never think that. How dare you say that?” 

“What? Suddenly I can’t say anything?” Kacchan asks. “Oh, that’s right. Since you think you can handle everything yourself!” 

“I am doing what’s best for all of us!” Izuku yells, anger finally jostling his body. 

“By isolating yourself?! By pushing us away?! Don’t be fucking stupid, Deku! You’re doing no one a favor!” Kacchan yells back. 

“I won’t see you dead!” Izuku yells. “I won’t! I won’t let you die! Mom! Eri!  Auntie and Uncle… I’ll keep all of them safe. I’ll keep you safe,” he pleads. Please. Please, Kacchan! Understand, me! 

“I don’t need your fucking charity. And I especially don’t need your fucking help,” Kacchan snarls back, his face cruel and mean. Izuku suddenly feels small again. 

“I didn’t ask if you did. This is my burden,” says Izuku, and he’s turning around to leave because he's tired of fighting. He’s tired of trying to make him see his point. “I don’t care if you don’t agree. This is what I chose.” This is my path. 

“We could share the burden,” says Kacchan angrily, as he watches him. Izuku stops. “We’re a team, aren’t we? We’ve always been. We leaned on each other. What’s stopping you now, Izuku? We have always shared each other's burdens. We help each other.” 

He hates that he’s right. He hates it so much. Izuku tears his gaze away, feeling the tears pool in his eyes. And then, 

“For the sake of your loved ones.”  

“You can’t,” whispers Izuku brokenly. “You couldn’t possibly understand or share this burden with me.” He says, before ripping his arm away from Kacchan’s tight grip walking away not bothering to listen to whatever Kacchan had to say. 

“Izuku! Wait!” Kacchan yells from further away, before he’s catching up and grabbing him by the wrist. “Fucking listen to me—!” 

“Leave me alone!” Izuku yells angrily, sending a whoosh of air out of his fingers, which he has no idea how he made it happen. He looks surprised down to his hand, where Kacchan lets go quickly. He looks at Kacchan who’s staring at him with an unreadable expression. “Just… leave me alone. Okay?” He says, leaving again and not letting himself look back. 

He almost stops at the angry shout coming from. “You think you can do this by yourself?! Think again you fucking nerd! You’re going to see! That you’re not going to handle all this by yourself!” He yells. “And if you think for a second that I’m willing to abandon you, then you’re dead wrong! Don’t you dare challenge me! You fucking wannabe!” 

Challenge him? Izuku scoffs, and doesn’t bother looking back as he finally leaves, the tears releasing in anger. Once he’s sure he’s out of Kacchan’s sight he starts running back. Home. Home. Please. 

Maybe he won’t get to sleep tonight. But he’ll… he’ll be away from this torment for a little while. Tomorrow he will be faced with more turmoil, his stylists, Best Jeanist and his minions coming back so they could do an interview as a couple in front of the Capitol here in their homes. To update everyone how they’re doing. He’ll worry about that tomorrow morning, when they come and when maybe Kacchan has cooled down but won’t talk to him until the interview. 

Yeah… he thinks. As his eyes close, finally in bed. Worry about that tomorrow. 

+ 

He’s dreaming of dead corpses. Brown hair, dark blue, dark black hair, white hair with red stripes, all of it scattered cross the arena. He’s standing and he’s won. 

Kacchan is dead. 

“Kacchan?” He croaks out. 

“Congrats on being a murderer!” Shigaraki laughs. “You’ll be like me soon enough, Izuku Midoriya!” 

“Izuku Midoriya”

“Deku”

“Boy on Fire”

“Wonder duo” 

Izuku… Izuku…. 

His eyes snap open. He’s in the shadow world again. 

“Good,” says the man, the one with white hair. He can’t speak. He looks around surprised. “You’re awake.” He says. 

But he’s pretty sure he’s asleep. Where am I? He wants to ask. 

“In the world of the vestiges,” says the man. Vestiges? 

Who are you, really? Yoichi? 

“That’s right,” says Yoichi. “I haven’t introduced myself properly, have I? How rude of me,” he chuckles. He doesn’t hold his hand out, because well, Izuku’s body is completely covered in the black mist. 

The man smiles, white black hair falling over green eyes. Izuku finally notices that the man is quite young. Malnourished and too skinny, pale skin, but a warm aura coming from him. 

“My name is Yoichi Shigaraki, the first successor of One For All,” says Yoichi. “And you are Izuku Midoriya, 9th successor of One for All,” He nods. 

“We’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.” He says, nodding to the people behind him. 

“It’s time we finally discussed… your quirk.”