Chapter Text
Izuku Midoriya
For all that people talked about the calm before the storm, no one ever talked about the silence which came after.
In Izuku’s opinion, there were two kinds of silences. The first was the good kind, the one which was tinged with a sense of relief. It was the prelude to joy and laughter and good things to come. It called for revelry, because it signified that everything survived.
The second was heavy, a silence which hung in the air as mourning veils off of a widow’s hat. It was steeped in dread and worry, and peppered with the beginnings of apprehension and horror. It was a signal that the worst had come to pass.
The silence after the bang was of the latter kind. The bang itself was deafening; it startled him so badly he lost control and yelped out a flame, burning the Noumu he’d been fighting. The other had frozen, as startled by it as he was. He took care of them with extreme prejudice, maximising his speed quirks’ outputs to almost behead one and de-brain the other.
Only then did he turn around. What he saw was one of the worst possible outcomes. Uraraka san stood behind him, one hand extended, completely bruised and most likely broken, staring at the corpse of a seventh Noumu. It’s head had been taken clean off, spraying its viscera everywhere. And by everywhere, he meant everywhere.
There wasn’t a single square inch of land which hadn’t been covered in the stuff. Blood and gray matter covered the trees nearby, leaking off them like sap. Mixed into the foliage below were pieces of meat and bone. They littered the ground, creating a gruesome painting of life and death. The path of her punch was clearly marked, shown by the lack of anything in its trajectory. Everything, from the trees to the ground, had been blown away.
Uraraka san stood at the epicenter, frozen. She was in shock, his brain helpfully supplied, even as he made his way to her. He’d been to the side when it had happened, which meant he’d been mostly spared, but it had also left him out of her line of vision. He moved slowly, approaching like he would a cornered animal, allowing her to properly register his presence.
Her eyes moved to track him, even if the rest of her remained stuck. She’d slowly started to hyperventilate, panic setting in even as he drew closer. She flinched when he touched her, and his heart hurt from the pain on her face.
She moved when he pulled her, accompanied with a not unkind, “We need to go.” She let him guide her, too shocked to cry or do much more than what he made her. He helped her wash off the blood, sweat and gore, and eat. She did everything on autopilot, her body going through the motions as her brain refused to process what had happened.
He lifted them up onto a tree when it was time to rest, Aerokinesis allowing him to do the required heavy-lifting. He created a mesh of blackwhip, weaving it through the branches to give them a perch to rest on. He lay, resting even if his eyes weren’t closed. It was then that she spoke.
“I killed it.”
The words broke the floodgates, letting her tears flow. She sobbed, grief and horror overwhelming her. Izuku knelt beside her, unsure how to comfort her, but not wanting to leave her alone. For all the tears he himself was capable of letting out, he’d never quite figured out how to comfort a crying person. Usually, it was him crying.
He patted her back, trying to be a calming presence, but that only made her cry harder. She cried for a long time, with big tears and loud sobs, and by the time she was done, it was well past midnight. As she dozed off, her head on his lap, Izuku looked out at the forest they were trapped in.
However loud Uraraka san had been, the rest of the forest was louder. The bang from earlier had acted like a catalyst for the island, stirring every single creature into a frenzy.
He’d noticed it in the periphery, but had been more occupied with getting the two of them somewhere relatively safe. Now that they were, however, Izuku had the time to really see what was going on.
And what he saw chilled him to the core.
The forest, in a word, was alive. All around them, growls echoed, Noumu emerging as they heard a call to hunt. Blasts occurred randomly, from what Izuku was sure were remnants of the bombers Six had employed. Interspersed in the trees, he saw fires begin to rage, as quirks were unleashed en masse.
He heard Noumu start to fight as large numbers of them drew towards the blast site. He heard the rip and tear of flesh as Noumu feasted on one another. He heard shrieks begin to fill the air as they remembered what remained of their primal instincts, as they began to call out to others of their kind.
And the noises increased as time went on, until it was nearly deafening. They formed an amalgam, a horrible soul piercing thing that left him shivering. The cacophony went on through the night, until Izuku could see the first rays of dawn on the horizon.
For the first time in a while, he felt afraid. Whenever he’d been imprisoned on the island in the past, he’d struggled to survive. Devoid of quirks, he’d worked with his brain and body to survive. He’d run from whatever came after him, creating a trap to acquire the Noumu’s quirks and then spend the rest of his time putting as many Noumu out of their misery as he could.
His father didn’t care. The island only contained defective experiments, and he knew Izuku was smart enough to survive unscathed (more or less). When Izuku was let out, his father delighted in taking back the quirks Izuku had acquired, in exchange for Izuku’s originals, of course.
That had been the long and short of it. Never, in all his time, had he ever experienced something like this. It had a haunted feel to it, as though the beings that once were were now mourning what they’d lost. It was something horrifying.
It was also feral, reminding him that those very beings now knew nothing of their pasts. It reminded him that they wanted nothing more than to rip him from limb to limb. It was a warning.
However, it was nothing, nothing , compared to his father. As much as he cared for the man, he was the scariest thing Izuku had ever encountered. He was the scariest thing Izuku would ever encounter.
So Izuku moved. Despite the fear that sought to freeze him in place, he moved. He carried Uraraka san along with him; she was out like a light, despite the noise around them. Her tears had subsided while she slept, but that didn’t mean she was done processing what had happened. That, however, was a long way off, if the way she let herself be moved was any direction.
He’d overused Aerokinesis earlier, when he’d lifted them to the top of the tree, so he used Blackwhip instead, grappling branches as he swung his way downwards, Uraraka san hugging to his back. He knew she would rather not have done it, but he really didn’t care. She was in no state to move coherently or react properly to an attack, and more importantly, what was going on was a complete unknown.
And Izuku had always believed that sometimes, people needed protection, whether they asked for it or not.
He kept moving, until he was as far from the forest as possible. He climbed the island, never stopping, not to catch a breath or anything else. He didn’t put Uraraka san down either, not till he’d reached his destination: the very top of the cliff that crowned half the island.
That however, wasn't what concerned him. What did concern him were the lights blinking at the research center. The red lights glowed and dimmed periodically, mistakable as fireflies in the distance for someone who didn’t know what they meant.
But Izuku did.
He knew, as inescapably as he knew he had a quirk, that it meant a High End was about to wake.
Ochaco Uraraka
Ochaco woke to screams.
The sun was shining bright overhead and for a minute she couldn’t help but wonder why she was sleeping under the open sky. She then proceeded to upchuck whatever remained in her stomach, pittance that it was, as she remembered what she’d done.
The memory of what she’d done made her retch, the images of blood and gore filling her brain. She’d grieved for it the night before, as she’d cried, but it was the horror of what she’d done that haunted her now.
She could accept the fact that she’d killed it. There hadn’t been a choice, but the sheer violence of the act she’d committed shocked her. She’d taken it’s head clean off. The amount of strength required for doing that…, it still didn’t feel real, that she’d managed to produce that much power, much less that such a feat hadn’t even been hard.
It scared her, how easy it had been to lose control. In an instant, One For All had produced enough power to crush a skull to smithereens, and she was pretty sure she had barely touched a third of her power. She hadn’t gone over a limit, hadn’t bruised her hand, hadn’t broken a bone. There had been nothing. No consequences. All she’d had to do was summon her power.
She could remember the feeling of it rushing through her hands. The exhilaration which had come with it as well as the total peace it had brought, in the eternity between which she’d almost died and killed. It had been glorious, and she knew, deep inside, she wanted to feel it again. It was addicting.
It was dangerous. She was dangerous. If she ever gave in to her instincts again, she was sure it would repeat, and that was something she could never let happen. If she failed, then next time, instead of a Noumu, it could be a villain or even worse, a civilian.
She retched again at the thought. At this rate, she thought wryly, There’s going to be nothing left in my stomach. Deku kun’s hand had come to rest between her shoulder blades during the time she’d been lost in her thoughts, while his other hand held her hair back.
She couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude for him. Even yesterday, after her mess up, he’d been the one who’d gotten them out of there. She’d wanted so badly to help him, and all she’d done was be a burden. After all that effort …
She felt her tears well up again, even as she desperately rubbed them away. She wouldn’t cry. She’d already broken down once, she couldn’t afford to do so again.
So she sat back, feeling like a little child as she rubbed her eyes dry. “I.. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice a little wobbly.
Deku kun looked at her, confusion strewn across his face. “Why are you sorry? If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I’m the one who’s inattention caused yesterday’s mess.”
“But I c-couldn’t help at all! After I-I-I killed the Noumu, I just sat there! I didn’t do anything. I… I was completely useless.” The last part came out barely louder than a whisper, but Deku kun heard it anyway. He stiffened, before relaxing again, into a state of forced calm.
He reached forward, gently taking her face into his hands, away from where it was hidden in her hands. He met her eyes and said, “No one is useless. No matter who it is, no one is useless. You are the last person I would call useless. And yesterday? Yesterday, you helped so much .
“You subdued three Noumu by yourself. You killed one more. You are helping. It may not feel like it, but you are. You can’t compare yourself to me. If this were a video game, You’d be at level 10, while I’m at level 50. It doesn’t make sense to compare the two of us. Eventually, when you’ve grinded enough to reach 50, I’d be willing to bet you’ll be far far far stronger than I am.
“Until then? Let me help. I know how frustrating that sounds, to have someone take care of you, but be patient, one day soon, you’ll be strong enough to not just take care of yourself, but also those around you.”
Ochaco couldn’t help it. She burst into tears again. She really needed to stop doing that. Deku kun, at least, seemed to find it funny. He chuckled, wiped the tears off of her face, and brought her over to the fire he’d lit nearby. Fish, roasted, sat beside it, speared on spits, and Ochaco was so excited at the sight of cooked food, that she didn’t even realise the consequences of it.
She was so taken, in fact, that it didn’t strike her until she was halfway through her first fish (which tasted delicious ). She jolted upright, before staring at Deku kun with something akin to horror.
“Deku kun” she started, apprehension slowly building, “didn’t you say that we couldn’t light any fires so that we didn’t attract any Noumu?”
Deku kun looked up, having concentrated on eating the fish, just like she had. “Yeah, I did,” he said, head nodding along as if he didn’t really see what was wrong.
“Then why are we eating cooked fish?”
Deku kun tilted his head to the side, in what would have been an adorable approximation of a confused puppy had she not been a second away from panic. “Well, because I highly doubt any Noumu are going to be coming after us over all of that .”
In Ochaco’s defense, shock was a hell of a drug. She was sure she would have at least noticed the forest burning behind her otherwise. Not to mention the screams. How had she even missed those?! She couldn’t help but wince at the sudden loudness. It was louder than a construction site, and she would know; she’d spent half her life at those.
“I reduced the sound, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Deku kun said from where he sat. “It got really loud about an hour ago and I figured you could use the rest. Aerokinesis is a really handy quirk.”
He let out a happy hum at that, and Ochaco knew he’d just started messing with the quirk again.
She’d noticed the pattern, in the times they’d spent resting. It wasn’t even a part of the training he carried out, continuously using a quirk. It was just him, surrounding himself with something that he loved. And if Deku kun loved something, it was his quirks. He didn’t do it when they were talking though; only when he was feeling stressed. He’d done it after they’d come across a particularly vicious Noumu, and after they’d talked about his father. For him to do it now…
“Deku kun?” she prompted, hoping that she wouldn’t have to drag whatever was bothering him out.
Luckily, she didn’t. “Do you remember when I told you about the types of Noumu?” he began, “About how there were two types, based on their skin?” She nodded, not liking where this was going.
“That was wrong. Well, not quite. Uhh, it was more of an omission. Or a misdirection. Rather, I’d like to argue that it was never actually a part of the classification of what consists as a Noumu, rather than the classifications thereof, to be exact. You see, from what I’ve told you, and what I’m sure you’ve already gathered, Noumu are brainless beings which have multiple quirks stuffed in them, right? Well…”
Ochaco couldn’t help but stare as Deku kun devolved into a mumbling frenzy, looking guiltier and guiltier with each passing second. Finally, when she’d had enough, she interrupted him. “Deku kun, what are you trying to say?”
Deku kun flinched, before looking even guiltier, if that was even possible. “Right. Sorry. Those aren’t the only type of Noumu. Rather, the Noumu aren’t the only beings with multiple quirks, myself excluded, of course.”
Deku kun took a fortifying breath before continuing. “Noumu are created from dead bodies. If a person who died is brought back to life after a certain period of time, the person’s gene, specifically the genes which relate to our quirks weaken somewhat, becoming more malleable. When this is pushed further using a cocktail of drugs, a person can continue to function even while acting as a host to multiple quirks.
“That’s what forms the lower-tier Noumu; the ones with white skin. After a certain point, to host more quirks, these Noumu are dosed with excessive amounts of a drug named Trigger, which causes their skin to blacken or purple, giving what we know to be the upper-tier Noumu.
“Those are the ones we’ve been fighting for the most part. The one you fought at the USJ was probably the strongest upper-tier Noumu my father has made to date. Neither the lower or upper-tier Noumu have any higher mental functions, due to the strain put on their brains by the quirks.
“High-ends are different,” Deku kun paused, swallowed, and continued,“ They are made from people who fulfill two criteria. First, that their bodies are able to withstand a greater amount of quirks than the average person. The second being the person themselves.
“High-ends are made from people who my father notices; people with skills or traits so extraordinary that they stand out among a sea of people, close to a hundred and fifty years in the making. They are better than all the other people my father has met, true masters of their trade, or extraordinary because of the spark they possess.
“All Might is a good example of that. Imagine All Might, had he not received One for All. He would have still had that same spark, that ability to reassure people, to tell them that it would be alright. He would have still had the same determination. I’m certain that, sooner or later, he would have ended up in my father’s sights.”
And Ochaco could understand it. She understood what he meant, had felt the spark her mentor had in him. She’d spent nights awake, just wondering how she could ever possibly live up to that legacy. How she could give people the same sense of peace he did. And she could understand why those people were chosen, even if the very thought repulsed her.
That however, didn’t answer one very important question. “Deku kun, why are you telling me about this?”
Deku kun flinched again, deepening the pit in Ochaco’s stomach. “Because the High-end sleeping in the facility at the center is about to wake. We have about half a day left before he-”
The world stopped.
The waves stopped crashing onto the shore.
The fire stopped crackling.
The wind stopped whistling.
Nothing moved.
Everything knew.
Move and you die.