Chapter Text
It's exactly like activating float.
Izuku is bordering panic, struggling to keep his head. Kacchan has been quiet from the beginning, as if he could keep his pain to himself, as if Izuku isn't feeling each hit anyway. But at first he was tapping out obscenities inside the hand restraints like he wouldn't be allowed to cuss again after today. Now he's gone still.
Izuku can look over his shoulder, but Kacchan is facing forward. It's impossible to tell how he's doing, if he's conscious.
What Izuku can tell is that they don't have time to sit tight and wait for their friends to show up.
He tried talking to the villains, but they're ignoring him, and Izuku isn't really in the mood for a calm conversation anyway. He's not sure if breaking a thumb will let him pull his wrist free, and he can't quite get the leverage he'd need to try it out. His ankles are tied down to the chair legs, and he hasn't been able to break that rope either.
It's the same overwhelming dread, the desperate need to do something, anything, to stop being useless Deku, to become someone who can save. And then Izuku starts floating up into the air.
He has a split second of confusion—he doesn't have One for All, so he can't really be stress-manifesting another quirk—and then he's overcome with intense nausea. That's how he puts it together. The rescue party is here, and Uravity is fighting the man with the pain sharing quirk. She can't know what his quirk does. He touched her, and she felt intense pain, and this is her frantic reaction.
It's not a calculated move. Sure, Uraraka has stopped the torture—the villains are pinwheeling through the air, unable to get their bearings. But the shipping containers are also tipping, spilling their contents. Uraraka must be near her limit, past it. She wouldn't have done this on purpose.
Izuku takes deep breaths, slowly. Uraraka won't be alone. His friends will figure out the quirk soon, win the fight and get here. There's only one thing he needs to make sure of.
"Kacchan?"
Still no answer.
Across the room, Chronostasis has grabbed a ceiling beam. He's slowly making his way along it, but it leads across the room, coming nowhere near Izuku and Kacchan. The other villains still can't control their movements, and the man with the skin quirk has lost the bat. It's turning over itself, slowly running away.
The barrel is dyed red.
Suddenly, Izuku notices soft footfalls. There's someone walking nearby, but not with the rush of an escaping villain or a hero come to rescue. Unable to do anything else, Izuku listens, trying to pinpoint its origin.
He's staring down at the doorway when Uraraka walks through. There's blood on her face, painted around her mouth.
"Uravity!" Izuku shouts. He needs her to spot them as soon as possible.
Uraraka ignores him. She staggers into the room, dazed. She in costume, but she's somehow lost her support gear. In her right hand she clutches a knife.
With a sinking feeling, Izuku remembers that she's maxed out her quirk, that she's still in the same pain Kacchan is.
Chronostasis shoots out his short hand, but it can't reach nearly far enough. The villain who drove the car has made it to a wall, but he hasn't yet started trying to push himself along it.
Uraraka keeps moving forward. She doesn't respond to the villains either, as if she's not really seeing anything. Her head turns down, then up.
"Uravity," Izuku repeats, "Uravity!"
Uraraka's head stops swiveling, pointed straight at Izuku. She stares at him, expression blank. Then her hand comes up to her chest. She kicks off the ground, floating toward him.
"Okay, that's great!" Izuku says. He can tell where she's going with this, but if anything, it's making him more panicked. Where is her backup? "Thanks Uravity—you can do it!"
It's like he's talking to a wall. Uraraka makes it to him and Kacchan, but she keeps facing forward, like Izuku is just part of the chair she's grabbing.
Behind her, the villain who had the bat has finally stopped spinning in the air. He's got one hand on the ceiling, and Izuku can see the calculation in his face. He's about to push off toward them.
"Uravity," Izuku warns, and then remembers that she isn't listening.
There's a click, and the metal around his hand loosens, opening at the edge.
Like he's done a thousand times already, Izuku yanks his arm away from the quirk restraint. This time it works. He grabs Uraraka's arm and pulls her closer, higher. Behind her, the villain sails past, not quite managing to grab her foot.
Up close, with her hair out of the way, Uraraka's face is pale. Her eyes tilt back, ready to roll.
"It's okay," Izuku says, trying for a smile, "I'm here."
Izuku knows quirks, his friends' quirks best of all. Whenever Uraraka intentionally drops hers, it turns off instantly, but when she hits her limit and her body gives out, the effect disperses slowly. So he can tell exactly when she passes out—the feeling of nausea dissipates, and they all start sinking back toward the ground.
Izuku's arm is already moving. He reaches back for the unlocked box, pulls out the key Uraraka used, and swings it around to unlock the second box.
Below them, the skin-quirk villain kicks off the wall and goes flying the other way.
With his second arm free, Izuku can reach farther. He snatches Uraraka's knife out of the air and slashes it down at the bonds around his legs. Then he pushes off the chair.
Just ahead, falling at the same speed, is the bat. Izuku grabs it, grips it. His feet hit the ground running.
Izuku knows by now that desperation makes him a worse fighter. His strength is in tactics, and anger clouds his mind. But even though it's largely detrimental, strong emotion does help him hit harder.
In front of him the skin-quirk villain lands, unsteady. He gets his balance, turns around, and his eyes go wide.
Izuku slams the bat across his face.
The man falls back, skids, scrambles up and runs away. Izuku watches him go, not quite believing. Kacchan's blood has smeared over his ear.
There's a crash from his left, and Izuku whirls around. The man who drove them here is half climbing, half falling down a tall set of shelves. He hits the ground, gets up, and follows his friend.
Chronostasis has found his feet too. While his coworkers run past to the loading door, he stands solid, staring across the room at Izuku.
Izuku shifts his grip on the bat. It's a close range weapon, which is dangerous. If Chronostasis gets him with the short hand, he'll loose. He wishes he had airforce, something to throw. But One for All is long gone, and he left the knife by the chairs. He doesn't dare to turn back and search for it.
The loading door rumbles, sliding up about a meter. The men there duck under it, running out.
Chronostasis hesitates, then follows.
Izuku can't fathom his luck, but he doesn't have time to think about it. He runs back to his friends.
Uraraka is closer, and her condition can tell him more. Izuku drops to his knees, skidding from the momentum. He grabs for her wrist, thankful that her arm gear isn't in the way. But he can see her chest moving with slow breaths before he even finds her pulse. She's okay, just worn out from quirk overuse. She'd sleep for a while and wake up alright.
Izuku lets out a breath too. His shoulders feel smaller, chest less tight. When the nausea cut out—and he'd been trying not to think about it—it had occurred to him that Uraraka might have died. But now it had to be one of the other options. Either releasing her quirk ended the nausea effect, or you had to be conscious to transfer pain.
That could mean Kacchan is still awake.
The chairs landed sideways, seat edge touching the ground. Izuku snatches the knife from the concrete floor and rushes around to kneel beside Kacchan.
Kacchan is lying exactly where zero gravity left him. His face is bloody, nose broken, but otherwise he looks weirdly normal—there hasn't been enough time for bruising to fully form. He doesn't visibly react to Izuku, but his eyes are closed.
It makes Izuku thankful for the pain quirk effect. He doesn't need to waste time on a formal scan for injuries, the way he would before moving a civilian. He knows.
Carefully, Izuku lifts the back of the chairs from the ground and begins to extricate Kacchan's right arm from where it fell, pinned.
Kacchan's eyes flutter. His cheek shifts and he spits, blood and a tooth. Then he mutters something.
"Sorry, I didn't hear," Izuku says. He pulls Kacchan's arm free and sets the chairs back down.
Kacchan's mouth turns up, just at the edge. "I win."
Izuku nearly bursts into tears. For a split second he believes it, that Kacchan made everything alright. But he stops himself at tearing up—the rescue party isn't quite here yet, and of the three of them, Izuku is the only one who can stand.
He starts cutting Kacchan's legs free. Kacchan watches, eyes half lidded. It's hard to tell how well he's tracking.
Izuku is thinking about quirks. Recovery Girl only heals non-students when there's basically a national emergency. There are other heroes with more minor healing quirks, many of whom work as doctors, but Izuku doesn't know them personally. He was usually unconscious or drugged when they helped him. He remembers a particularly interesting team from the hospital in Shizuoka—Dr. Same with a shark mutation quirk and Dr. Furikae who could move a quirk effect from one person to another. They regrew several of his teeth after Muscular.
The building creaks, and Izuku freezes, listening. But it's just settling. He can't hear anyone—no sounds of combat, no rush of a rescue. Maybe the villains ran away, or maybe they went to back up their friends in another building. It's impossible to tell if anyone is coming back, or who will make it back first.
But Izuku can hedge his bets. There's an easy way. Right now, the heroes and the villains both know where they are—the villains because they left them here, the heroes because of the tracker in Izuku's shoe. But if the three of them move somewhere, hide themselves, then only the heroes will have their location.
He's moved on from quirks to All Might, the debut video he's memorized every second of. All Might saved hundreds of people that day, carrying five to ten at a time.
Izuku is sitting on the cold concrete floor, quirkless, two limp friends splayed around him. He's not sure he can pick up both at once.
He stands up, walks back to Uraraka. She's still sleeping, but her forehead tenses and goes slack like she's thinking, having some kind of dream. Izuku is thinking too, forming an idea. He repositions her, straightening her out. Then he pulls her up by the arm and shoulders, lifts her onto his own shoulders and gets her into a fireman's carry. That's step one.
"Kacchan."
Kacchan blinks, like he heard the sound of his name, but doesn't quite know what to do about it.
Slowly, Izuku crouches down beside him. "Kacchan, I need your help."
Kacchan frowns, which is typical. He usually dislikes helping.
Izuku bows his head. Then, with his free hand, Izuku lifts Kacchan's left arm over his neck.
He's about six inches into standing up when Kacchan's torso pulls off the ground. Every ache pulls at once, but at least Izuku was expecting it. Kacchan gasps, eyes shooting open, but he seems to have finally noticed what's happening.
Izuku feels bad about it, but if the villains come back in here they'll be recaptured, and it will all be for nothing. And he can't think of another way.
Slowly, Kacchan's hand twitches, searching for something to grasp. Izuku moves it down to his other wrist, the one he's using to hold Uraraka, and Kacchan latches on. Now Izuku's arm is free again, and he brings it across Kacchan's back, gripping him under the armpit.
He can bear more weight that way, but Kacchan's still going to need to walk.
When Izuku finally stands up, Kacchan gets his feet pointed the right way all on his own. It's obvious the instant his weight settles—one of his knees is messed up.
Izuku starts breathing purposefully, deep and measured, the way he does for any exercise. He can't think about how far they might need to go. For now, they just need to make it across the room to the door. They just need to take the next step.
Trying not to think about what it's going to do to Kacchan, Izuku starts walking.
"I win," Kacchan rasps.
"That's great Kacchan," Izuku manages.
"You," Kacchan says. He laughs, quiet and hysterical, ending in a cough. "Need hands."
Izuku doesn't know how to respond to that. He's focused on the loading door—there's a drop from the floor down to the pavement outside so trucks can pull up. But there's a normal door beside it with stairs on the other side—Izuku was observing when they first got here. If it's unlocked, then that's their best bet.
When they make it there, Izuku can't tell if he's tired because of the exercise or the shared pain. Hoping it's the second option, he turns everyone sideways, trying to reach the knob with the hand he's using to hold Kacchan. The maneuver is made more difficult by the fact that it requires Kacchan to stand between the door and Izuku, blocking his line of sight, but he's finally able to grab it.
It's locked.
Izuku feels a little like sitting down and crying on the floor, but that isn't really an option right now. He's turning to face the door again, trying to calculate how much momentum he'll need to kick it down, when Kacchan reaches a wobbly arm out, sets his palm between the knob and frame.
The wood blasts away around the latch, and the whole knob mechanism dislodges. The door swings outward.
"Thanks," Izuku says, wasting no time in walking forward. He didn't even feel any pain from the blast—Kacchan's hands were stuck in the cuffs, protected there.
The lot outside is empty. Izuku stands at the top of the steps, scanning it. He doesn't see people rushing in the distance or hear the blows of an ongoing fight. With a sinking feeling, Izuku thinks back to Uraraka. She shouldn't have arrived alone, without gear. She shouldn't have been using her quirk so desperately.
There's a good chance that the rescue isn't even here yet.
Either way, they need to move. Izuku starts down the stairs, moving slowly so Kacchan can aim his feet correctly on the steps. It's a little excruciating, but it's necessary. If Kacchan trips, they're probably all going to fall.
This area looks deserted, but now that Izuku is listening for quieter sounds, he can tell that people are nearby. There are vehicles driving slowly, barge horns in the distance. If they can get far enough, maybe they can borrow a phone and call an ambulance.
Izuku calculates the shortest distance across the parking lot to another building and starts dragging his friends along the trajectory. He isn't sure which way the real dock workers are, but they need to get behind cover, break line of sight. Other villains could still come out behind them.
Though to be honest, Izuku doesn't really expect it. This whole kidnapping seemed to be operating more on luck than skill.
On the other side of the nearest building is a small road, and on the other side of that is the shore. There's a space for him to walk between the asphalt and the wall, and Izuku keeps trudging ahead. If he thinks about his entire escape path then he might not be able to do it. All he has to worry about is not stopping.
Or, well, not stopping and observing his surroundings is more accurate. Because by the time the truck slows to a halt beside them, it's way too late to hide.
Izuku slides his feet apart, settling into a more stable stance. He doesn't have any free hands to punch with, but he can probably kick if he needs to.
The passenger door opens and a man with a graying mustache steps out. He's wearing overalls, like he either actually works here, or he's trying to fit in. "Hey there," he says, and he takes off his hat to scratch his head, "Are you guys alright?"
"Call an ambulance," Izuku says, in case this really is a civilian.
Beside him, Kacchan goes completely slack. That's when the quirk effect ends.
The sudden dead-weight nearly topples Izuku, and he has to drop to his knees to keep from letting go. He's so focused on laying Kacchan down gently that he doesn't notice the stranger approaching until he feels Uraraka shifting, being pulled away.
"Don't take them!" Izuku shouts. Instinctively he bows his head, lets gravity roll Uraraka down into his lap. It's not the softest landing, but he can grab her there, make sure she isn't snatched away.
The stranger steps back. Then he kneels down in the road, a meter or so away. Now when Izuku looks at him, their eyes are even. "Hey—nobody's taking anyone."
Izuku stares, one hand on each friend, trying to decide if he can believe it. Back near the car, a younger man in the same uniform has stepped out from the other side. He's talking quietly into his phone.
"Look," the nearest man says, pulling off his jacket, "This ground isn't that comfortable—why don't you stick this under your friend's head?"
That's what gets Izuku—if these really are the villains come to get them again, they aren't really in a place to fight back. There's no reason to mime all this out.
"Okay," Izuku says, and he reaches out, takes hold of the proffered jacket. Then his hands clench harder and harder, balling up into fists.
"Deku. Hey, Deku."
Izuku has his eyes squeezed shut. He blinks, and he's sitting, looking down at his lap.
Something touches his hand, and he flinches. Then he registers the voice, the padded fingertips.
"It's okay," Uraraka says, and she grabs for Izuku's hand again.
This time, Izuku lets her uncurl his fingers, pull his arm away from his head. He watches his own hand come down into his field of vision, still held in Uraraka's, loose hair in his palm. It's like it isn't really part of his body, like this is all really happening to someone else.
"Hey," Uraraka says, voice just higher than his ear, "Look at me."
Izuku sits up straight. He's in a business-style waiting area. Todoroki and Iida stand a little ways off, wearing costumes, talking quietly. There's a desk against the opposite wall, a stranger behind it.
As a kid, sometimes Izuku would miss small chunks of time, like lunch-breaks or specific classes. One day he stepped onto Aldera's campus, and then he was turned around, walking away, the sun in a different section of the sky. Frankly, it was kind of awesome, except that it made his class notes really bad. Izuku would have assumed it was a quirk if he didn't know better by then.
He always had a nagging fear that it might happen at an inconvenient time and interfere with his hero work. But luckily, after he got to U.A., it mostly stopped on its own.
An arm stretches across his face, and Uraraka grabs the other hand Izuku has clenched in his hair. She's wearing a jacket over her hero costume. Someone had long enough to bring her that.
"Where's Kacchan," Izuku demands. The pain sharing quirk isn't back. He's not sure how much time he missed.
"He's fine," Uraraka says, dragging Izuku's hands down into her lap, "He's upstairs, and he's fine. We all are."
"It's my fault," Izuku admits. His voice sounds like its coming from a long way off. "I should never have been there. I got in the way."
It occured to him, back in that chair, that he was more useful to Kacchan dead. It wasn't a practical thought. Izuku couldn't move, and Kacchan couldn't have lived with himself after.
Uraraka still hasn't let go of Izuku's hands. "I'm glad you were there," she says, "I needed you to save me."
That's—probably true. If Kacchan had come alone and escaped immediately, then he never would have known Uraraka was in the building at all.
"Actually," Uraraka says, hesitating, "I was hoping—I wanted to ask for your help with something."
"Of course," Izuku says, "What's wrong?"
Uraraka laughs, amused but not poking fun. "No, there's not a problem. I just had a question about quirks."
"Oh," Izuku says. So she's definitely still trying to save him then. But Izuku doesn't mind—it's because Uraraka is a good hero that she's acting like this. And he does enjoy talking about quirks. "Is it about yours, or one of the kids you've been working with?"
"It's—actually about vestiges," Uraraka admits.
Izuku tries to keep from smiling. He's not sure that he manages—he'd at least expected a made up question that had practical applications.
Uraraka's shoulders edge up, and she looks down, sheepish. "I was wondering, um—One for All transferred by DNA, right? So do vestiges form because of quirk exchange, or DNA exchange?"
For a moment, Izuku just sits there, blinking at her. "I—never thought of that."
In the background, double doors open and a woman in scrubs walks out. This must be the hospital—it would explain why they're here, why Kacchan is upstairs.
"That's okay," Uraraka says, but she sounds disappointed.
"No, that's—let me think about it!" Izuku exclaims. Instinctively, he tries to bring his hand up, rub at his chin.
Uraraka's fingers tighten, keeping his hand trapped in hers.
"You could figure it out," Izuku says, his mind finally kick-starting, "Technically, I think quirks themselves contain DNA, since they're unique to the individual. But you could check if they're enough on their own to form a vestige, without additional body matter. Monoma would be perfect to test the quirk side, except that he doesn't keep quirks long enough to fall asleep, and vestiges appear most easily in dreams. On the other hand, you could check with people who have received a donated organ."
"Or blood transfusions?"
Izuku shook his head. "I wouldn't start there—it isn't very permenant. Plus, organ donation is the example All for One used when we—oh, All for One had vestiges! And he took quirks without ingesting DNA. So that's one side figured out."
Uraraka nods, looking pensive. "So do you think—if it's not specific to DNA—could a vestige be part of someone's spirit?"
"Spirit?" Izuku repeats, "Like a ghost?"
"You're right, that's stupid," Uraraka says, and the smile falls out of her eyes.
"No, I don't think that!" Izuku insists. He really wants to gesture, has to keep stopping himself. Instead he leans forward, shoulders hunching. "When All for One nearly killed All Might, for a moment, his vestige started to solidify—and he doesn't have a quirk at all! And so, I never really considered that they might be ghosts, because I don't think I believe in ghosts to begin with, but I also have to admit that that theory explains the evidence more neatly."
"There's still DNA transfer," Uraraka says.
"That fits in," Izuku continues, "Ghosts haunt where they were burried, where their urn is—wherever their body rests. It makes sense that they would follow around a piece of themselves in another person. That would be crazy, if I'd been haunted that whole time!" He rears back, ready to run hands through his hair.
Uraraka stops him again. "Does that bother you?"
"No—no!" Izuku exclaims. He's probably talking too loud, but he's excited now, and his friends will probably appriciate knowing it after the way he must have been behaving this afternoon. "I hope it's true, even if I don't think it is, because that would mean all the past users of One for All really saw All for One defeated before they were put to rest."
Uraraka bites her lip. It's hard to tell if she's upset or just thoughful.
"Hey," Izuku said, brow furrowing, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah—yeah," Uraraka says, nodding slowly. "Um—when you pass out, what's the sensation?"
Izuku's brow furrows. "It's not really anything. I wake up later, that part is disorienting. Why?"
Uraraka's nod turns into a shake. "It's nothing. I just—I had a weird dream."