Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His body ached in protest of movement, wanting nothing more than to lay in its misery of fresh burns and blooming bruises. Instead, he pushed himself through the window anyway.

Shouto landed with a grunt on the grass, trampling some pale pink flowers their gardener probably spent a lot of time nurturing. He walked toward the fence that surrounded his home. With a few ice footholds, he climbed it and awkwardly pulled himself over the top, eventually landing harshly on the other side.

Free, for a short while at least.

It was that sharp, biting kind of cold. There was no rain for it to snow; it wasn’t the season, so the world just remained frosty and empty. Each of his breaths was visible and after only a few minutes of walking, his fingers and toes were numb.

That was fine, he craved that numb lack of feeling. It forced down the feelings in his head, the pain in his body. He suppressed his left side further, leaving everything cold.

Shouto didn’t sneak out often. It was rare, spur of the moment events that usually resulted from suffocating walls and late training sessions. Shouto never really decided about it until he was quite literally already gone. His body just moved on its own.

Sometimes it was because he craved the fresh air, anything that didn’t smell like smoke and tears. Sometimes it was because he needed to be free, anywhere else besides the home he was trapped in.

It was pitch black as he walked. The stray streetlights on either side of him weren’t enough to light his way, old and flickering as he passed. They got even scarcer as he wandered farther from his neighborhood.

The moon was a sliver, hanging by a thread in the sky. Even the stars were few and far tonight. If he stared into the blackness for long enough, he could outline smoky clouds in the sky, but he stopped when the left side of his skull started pounding again.

His father had been especially brutal tonight, training stretching so far into the night that he hadn’t had the appetite to eat the dinner Fuyumi had left in his room. He was growing frustrated and impatient with Shouto’s rebellion.

That was fine, Shouto had been frustrated for years.

With Yuuei’s exam looming in the distance, his father had been trying to draw fire out of him even more than usual. Shouto simply answered with more shivering ice.

He could hear sirens in the distance, echoing around the silent midnight city. Shouto had barely seen a soul since he left his neighborhood. The aching in his body had subsided with a sense of emptiness and frost, so he kept walking with no destination in mind.

Anywhere further from that house was good enough for him.

He blamed his exhaustion on not seeing the blade before it cut across his face. The teenager stiffened, pressing his hand to his bleeding cheek and stumbling around. His body hated the sudden movement. The street was dark and empty, besides a lone figure.

“Give me everything you have.” He loudly demanded. A rusted, barbed wire swirled in the air above his head. Shouto watched his own blood drip onto the concrete, momentarily mesmerized.

Shouto suddenly scoffed, rolling his eyes at the scene before him. He was cold and irritated and certainly didn’t have enough patience for this. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m not carrying anything.” He gestured with open hands at his pajamas, smearing the blood on his pants. He wasn’t wearing any shoes, he hadn’t even grabbed his phone before he left. In his head, it was because he didn’t want to be tracked, but honestly, he had just forgotten. “Leave me alone before you do something you’ll regret.”

“Don’t have anything?” The man echoed, face morphing into something meaner. The wire twisted sharply as it poised to strike. “I find that hard to believe, pretty boy.”

Shouto pushed himself out of the way with an ice column. It stabbed the ground where he had been standing and he tried to not imagine the rusted thing impaling him somewhere. He’d love to explain tetanus to his father.

Even with the small display of his quirk, his body screamed. He was far too exhausted for a legitimate fight and the stranger was standing far enough to be out of range of his ice. He twisted out of the way again and hissed at the pain that flashed in his ribs.

Shouto pressed his right hand to the ground, trying to summon a glacier to trap the man. Instead, the ice that stretched for him didn’t make it that far, crumbling as the piece of metal sliced through it.

The wire was relentless, twisting and diving for Shouto. It tore through his pant leg, slicing thickly through his thigh. An ice wall rose between him and the attacker, but it was far too thin. He was already at his limit and the fight had barely begun. The barbed wire shattered it once again. Shouto stole a glance at the scarlet oozing from his left thigh. He blamed his father.

“You’re a fighter, you must have something to protect!” The man laughed, just barely unhinged. Shouto wondered about his mental state as he clinched his fist. The wire dived into the ground before him again.

Shouto just missed, throwing himself against the wall. His shoulder was jarred, protesting sharply through his muscles. He slammed his right hand to the ground, encasing the metal in cold crystals.

He paused, panting. Frost stung his skin painfully, creeping further toward his left side. He couldn’t feel any of his fingers anymore, closing his fists only out of habit.

Shouto stood, ignoring the way his body screamed at him. Ice crackled and the man stepped closer. He attempted to freeze his legs, but before he could, there was a cracking sound from in front of him. The wire ripped free.

“You try, I’ll give you that.” The attacker said, raising his hand. “But not hard enough.”

Shouto created another ice barrier as the metal turned, but it sliced through it and cut across the other side of his face. The teenager bit down on his tongue out of habit to silence himself, white hot pain flashing across his vision.

It must have cut through his scar as well from the blood dripping in his eye, but at least he couldn’t feel that part the wound. The burned skin there was far too old and dead.

This was a pitiful, weak resistance. He wobbled on his feet, barely standing between the old and new wounds.

Shouto wondered if he could run, but from the burning in his legs and the gaping cut in his thigh, he probably wouldn’t be able to make it far before that piece of metal caught up.

More than anything, he just wanted to give up.

He was tired, he was frustrated, he didn’t feel like fighting anymore.

Lying down in the middle of the street felt really nice right now. Letting the frost take away the rest of his feeling. Letting the ice numb his skin and bones.

When this man saw he really didn’t have anything, maybe he’d leave him alone so he could bleed out on the concrete in peace. He wondered if some hero would stumble across his body.

Or maybe he’d just kill him and rid him of the nightmare that was his life.

That’d be fitting. He only wished he could see the look on his father’s face when he got the news.

His perfect creation, killed in a dark, cold alleyway by a meaningless thief.

Shouto felt it whiz past his ear, flinching away from the noise. He nearly tripped over his own ice block trying to escape.

The man stopped several feet away. “It’s a shame, pretty boy-” The wire twisted in the air like a snake poised to strike.

It dove for the spot between his eyes and lit up green.

Then it froze, centimeters from his face.

Shouto stared up at it, trying to ignore his burning, suffocating headache, eyes flickering back to the man in shock. He looked just as confused. The green energy grew brighter, and threw the wire to the ground, leaving it stationary at his feet.

The man looked horrified, glancing at Shouto, then back at the metal piece. He waved his hands comically, but the wire didn’t budge. “What-What the fuck did you do?”

Shouto’s irritation flared despite it all. So this guy was an idiot, too. Clearly he hadn’t caused that, didn’t he just use an ice quirk? “I didn’t-“

“All this for a robbery...it’s kind of overkill, right?” A new voice called, sounding somewhat disappointed. Shouto jolted and turned his head toward the sound.

Sitting on the fire escape of the nearest building, a small, hooded figure was perched. They kicked their legs, sitting aimlessly on the edge.

Dressed in a dark green hoodie with black patterns on the sleeves and torso, they stared down at them. Shouto noticed the long pieces on the top of their hood, reminding his pain-dampened mind hilariously of rabbits’ ears. They also wore a pair of black skinny jeans and big, bright red sneakers that contrasted terribly with the rest of their attire. Their face remained mostly hidden, between the hood and the black face mask they wore.

“What are you doing to my quirk?!” His attacker shouted. He ran toward the fire escape, but turned green as well. The same energy glowed around the man and suddenly he was thrown backwards into the opposing wall. Shouto watched, mesmerized, as dust settled around the new crater in the bricks. His attacker groaned weakly, clutching his arm and glaring up at the hooded person, who simply held out a single hand.

“You have such an impressive quirk, too. It’s a shame you don’t use it for something productive.” They sighed, climbing to their fee. Shouto stared with wide eyes as the figure stepped off the edge, disappeared, then reappeared in between the two of them. “Attacking someone who’s clearly hurt and clearly empty-handed, it’s frustrating. Don’t you have something better to do?”

“What do you know?” The man growled, stumbling to his feet.

The newcomer shrugged, tucking his hands in the middle pocket of his green hoodie. “If you don’t stop trying to attack us, I’ll take it away.”

The attacker didn’t stop, running toward the two of them. The fire escape creaked and Shouto froze, standing behind the hooded figure. He was incredibly confused and cold. He should probably run, but he simply stood, shellshocked.

The man glowed green again, stopping mid-punch in front of the hooded figure. Shouto noticed how he towered over the hooded person, a furious expression on their face, but frozen nonetheless.

They sighed, pressing a hand to the man’s face. “I’m sorry about this. I told you, you should have left.”

“What-“ The attacker glared at him, then his expression shifted into something more terrified. “What the fuck did you do?! I can’t feel it- I-I can’t-“ He clawed for the metal rod at Shouto’s feet, but it didn’t so much as shutter.

“Please leave now. I don’t want to have to injure you, and if you hurt me, then you’ll get my dad involved and none of us want that.” They sighed, lowering their hand. Shouto watched his attacker crumble to the concrete, green energy fading. He were shaking, reaching for the forgotten barbed wire.

“What did you do?!” He shouted furiously. “What did you fucking do?!” He stood, wire in trembling hands. Shouto leaned back against the wall, watching the scene nearly frozen.

The man stared at them both, a terribly broken expression on his face. He stared over the hooded figure’s head at Shouto, then back at the wire in his hand. Shouto almost wanted to pity him, but then he remembered how he had just tried to kill him a few minutes ago and didn’t feel as bad.

Then he took off running. His footfalls echoed eerily. The stranger and Shouto watched him leave, muttering and crying to himself.

Once the footsteps had faded, the figure sighed, tucking his hands in his pocket again. “I hope he’ll be okay.” They turned toward Shouto and the teenager stiffened.

Every part of him screamed at him to run. Something about this stranger was terrifying, even if he had just saved him. Everything in him wanted to run as far as he could from this street.

Instead, Shouto slumped against the wall. His head was swimming. The world tilted from the amount of his blood pooled on the street. “Are you okay?”

“What did you do to him?” Shouto managed, glaring at the newcomer.

“It doesn’t matter.” They said. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

They huffed. “You’re bleeding out on the concrete. I’m surprised you’re still conscious. Can I help?”

“Are you going to do to me what you did to him?”

“Of course not. You were defending yourself, not greatly, but he still attacked you first and probably would have killed you if I hadn’t stepped in.” They stepped closer, holding out a hand. “I just want to heal you, but I have to touch your injuries. May I?”

Healing, telekinesis, teleportation, what was this kind of quirk? Shouto couldn’t come to a legitimate conclusion in his muddled head.

Shouto gave him a guarded look. He wanted to refuse and run home, but he was barely managing as it was. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore, between the ice and the blood. He had stopped feeling his fingers and most of his face a while ago. With his quirk and the weather, frostbite was probably setting in.

He wasn’t sure if he’d even make it that far, not to mention what his father would say if he showed up in this condition. Probably some bullshit about being too weak.

“Fine.” Shouto eventually muttered.

The hooded figure took his invitation without another word and closed the distance between them. Quickly, he pressed his hand to his leg and a warmth spread through Shouto.

His skin slowly knitted itself back together as if nothing had broken it at all. Shouto looked up at them, face still hidden by the mask, but he could see dark curls falling forward and the curve of their nose as they focused.

They went from each of the immediate wounds, healing it cautiously. They continued until his face. “This isn’t recent.” They murmured with a pause.

Shouto stared at the icy concrete, teeth gritted together. “Don’t touch that one.”

“Right. Sorry.” They moved on, healing some of the obvious burns and bruises from training. Shouto reached forward and grabbed their hand tightly, pulling it from his skin. He was still cold, but much better than he was before. At least some type of sense returned to his fingers and toes.

“Who are you?” He said stiffly, wanting to reach out and rip off their hood, but he kept his hands to himself for the time being.

“There are more wounds than what he gave you...b-burns, too. Where did those come from?” They asked in a hesitant tone.

Shouto pressed his mouth into a line. “Okay, I’m leaving.” He pushed himself off the wall and headed toward the empty street.

“Whoa, whoa, wait!” They exclaimed, grabbing Shouto’s arm. “I’ll tell you, okay? But I want to know your name, too. A fair trade?”

The teenager paused, glancing back at them. He debated it, then decided, fuck it and nodded his agreement. “You first.”

The hooded figure nodded happily, then reached up and pulled off the hood and tugged down the mask. Shouto stared at him, surprised.

He couldn’t have been more than fifteen, with wild dark curly hair and big eyes. In the dark, they looked black. A collection of freckles dotted his skin and, when he gave Shouto a hesitant smile, he had dimples.

“My name is Izuku.”

“Shouto.” He answered curtly, looking him up and down. “Why did you help me?”

“He was going to kill you if I didn’t, right?”

“Why do you care?”

“I just wanted to help you.”

Shouto stared at him for a long minute, then sighed stiffly. “Thanks, I guess.” Without another word, he turned and started walking home.

Izuku didn’t follow him home, but Shouto found himself looking back at the empty street more than once. For some strange reason, he almost wanted to catch a glance of the stranger in the shadow of a street light.

Chapter Text

Shouto lived in a nice neighborhood.

Or, at least, he assumed that’s where he lived. Izuku leaned in the shadow of the roof, watching the other teenager shakily create ice footholds to climb over the fence of one of the large, traditional houses. Well, that house in particular was a bit more like a mansion. Shouto disappeared through one of the windows, shutting it firmly behind him.

Izuku exhaled, stepping out from the darkness. He teleported above his head, landing firmly on the roof he had just been hiding under. He sat on the roof’s edge, pausing to watched a lone car drive past below his feet. He pulled down his face mask, but kept the hood on, just in case.

The teenager chewed on his lip, debating. He probably shouldn’t have done any of that.

Dad would be mad if he found out.

It was reckless. Izuku knew that.

But there was an emphasis on the if, he certainly wasn’t going to tell and hopefully that attacker wasn’t going to spread his encounter around either. He probably wouldn’t want to admit he lost a fight against a fifteen-year-old anyway.

The man’s quirk sat heavily in the back of his mind, unrelentingly reminding him of the fight. It was some type of metal manipulation, probably not that strong if all he could manage was a rusted piece of wire, but if Izuku experimented with it, it may become more powerful. He could mix it with a few other quirks, try out some new combinations.

Izuku huffed, shoving the quirk to the back of his mind and scolding himself out of the analysis.

He should give it back.

He always felt guilty when he took new quirks like that. Maybe if he walked around for a bit, he’d find the man and be able to return it. Izuku pushed himself to his feet, about to do just that.

Then he remembered Shouto’s bloody appearance and froze. The cold breeze made him shiver.

If he gave it back, then that man would probably hurt more people. Despite Shouto’s statements, the attacker seemed determined to kill him, or at least hurt him more than he already had. Izuku might not be able to save them next time, then that would be his fault, too. If he kept it, then certainly no one else would die at his hands.

Izuku sighed, calling upon the quirk again and floating his phone in air. It responded weakly, bobbing up and down lazily in front of his eyes. Even his mother’s quirk could do better than that, he recalled from the times he had borrowed it. He reached out and grabbed it, deactivating the quirk.

There was no point now, the man was probably long gone. Izuku would just have to live with the guilt.

He chalked it up with the others. He couldn’t even remember most of their names or appearances anymore, just their quirks sitting in the back of his subconscious. Usually, the excitement and interest of new quirks overshadowed any doubts he had after a while.

Izuku checked the time, the bright screen casting artificial light on his face.

It was getting late. He had gotten easily distracted by Shouto, for some reason. His curiosity always got the better of him; it was a bad habit at this point.

He should probably head home, he decided, before either of his parents noticed his absence. The teenager took one last glance toward Shouto’s home.

There was no sign of life, from the lingering, frozen footholds to the dark, empty windows. For some reason, Izuku wanted to wander closer, slip past the gate and try to solve all the mysteries that went with Shouto and all his faded scars.

Instead, he turned away and blew a curl out of his eyes before he vanished into the dark.

“Izuku?” The teenager froze in the entry way, hoodie half pulled over his head. There was an amused hum and he felt larger hands appear to help tug it off. “Did you go out again?”

Izuku blushed, pulling down his t-shirt and staring at the ground to avoid his eyes. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t mention it at dinner.” His father noted, folding the hoodie neatly and offering it back to him. The man was dressed in casual clothes, hair slightly messy in a way that said he had probably gotten out of bed to greet him. Izuku glanced at dark green fabric in his hands, debating his answer.

“Sorry.” He decided. “I hadn’t made up my mind yet, then.” Izuku shrugged, chewing on his cheek. He took his hoodie back, hugging it to his chest.

“I know it’s hard for you to be stuck in here all the time, but please just tell us before you go, okay?” He ruffled his hair and Izuku nodded shyly, finally looking up at him. “Your mother nearly had a heart attack when she peeked in your room and you weren’t there.”

Dad knew where he was. He probably told Mom as soon as she woke him. It still probably didn’t help her anxiety much, though.

It was some old quirk that could track or locate people. Izuku wasn’t sure where he got it from, or how it even exactly worked, but he’s always been able to find Izuku, as far back as he could remember. It made him incredible at hide and seek.

“I will.” Izuku nodded, guilt sinking in his stomach. He didn’t like worrying them, but being holed up in here was stifling. He didn’t sneak out out of resentment, it was never that. It was just for the fresh air, the freedom that always accompanied him in the dead of the night when he was all alone.

“Find anything interesting?”

Izuku shrugged, happy to move onto a new topic. “Maybe. It’s some type of metal manipulation, but it’s pretty weak.” He admitted. Weak, but he found all quirks interesting nonetheless. He’d probably experiment with it plenty to keep himself entertained in the coming weeks. That suffocating, guilty feeling surrounding the quirk was nearly gone by now.

His father looked thoughtful before he smiled. “Well, if anyone can figure it out, it’s you. If you want any help, just ask.”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Okay, official bedtime, go.”

“Right, goodnight.” Izuku shuffled past him. At the end of the hall, he hesitated, hand resting on his bedroom’s doorknob. “Love you.”

Dad smiled. “I love you, too, Izuku.”

Izuku woke to the distant sound of sizzling and the smell of breakfast drifting into his room. He rolled over in bed a few times, burrowing his face in the pillow, before he finally decided he should probably get up before one of his parents came in and woke him anyway. He blinked at the artificial lights for a moment, rubbing at his face while the last of his sleepiness gradually faded.

He patted around for his phone, eventually realizing it fell on the ground and pulling it toward him. It dropped on his chest, the green energy fading.

It didn’t have many contacts, just his parents and a few of his father’s colleagues, for emergency purposes. As expected, there were no messages waiting for him.

He lazily scrolled through the hero news app he had. Usually, he liked to skim the headlines for any mention of himself. Izuku had been a full-fledged vigilante for a little over six months now, finally having more time since he didn’t have to worry about school in the morning anymore.

Publicly, he was still unnamed and a complete mystery, but occasionally there were still stories or incidents reported that included lots of questions and theories. Izuku was generally always the answer to them, but the media and the heroes certainly didn’t know that.

Last night had been slow, besides Shouto’s attempted robbery, so Izuku didn’t expect much familiarity among the headlines. He paused on an article that mentioned the death of two Shiketsu hero students, already a total of five this year, he mentally noted.

Izuku sighed disappointedly and checked the time, rubbing at his eyes again. He pulled himself out from under the covers, yawning and stretching. Slowly, he eventually drifted into the kitchen.

Both his parents were collected at the table, peering over a messy stack of papers. Mom was already sitting, nursing coffee and peeking at a few papers collected on the table top.

Dad leaned over her shoulder, then straightened and left to return to his cooking as he spoke. “He’s not an issue, at the moment. I’m curious about his technique, though. He’s managed to take out several villains seemingly without a problem, the heroes are certainly stumped.” Dad said as he poked at the pan with a spatula.

He wore that atrocious pink apron Izuku had given him as a Father’s Day gift several years ago. Every time Izuku suggested they retire it, the original gift had been meant as a joke after all, Dad would just insist on wearing it more.

“You mean you’re curious about his quirk.” Mom corrected, sipping at her coffee while she read.

He blushed a little, glancing over her. “Well, there’s more to it than that, dear.” His father protested. Then his eyes flickered to where Izuku waited on the edge of the hallway. “Good morning, Izuku.”

Mom looked away from the pages, brightening as she noticed him. “Izuku! Morning, love, come sit.” She added, patting the table top beside her. Izuku nodded, mumbling back a greeting and shuffling over to one of the empty seats.

“It’ll be done in a minute.” Dad added from the stove.

He peeked at the papers, noticing a newspaper hidden under the others. “What’s going on?”

“You have a vigilante friend.” His father answered. Izuku looked at the headline, something about how a mugging was stopped by an unrecognized hero. “He goes by Stain, have you met him?”

The teenager shook his head, setting the newspaper aside after a few minutes of inspecting the blurry picture. “He’s a vigilante?”

“As of now.” He hummed.

Mom took another sip of her coffee, shaking her head with an enduring exhale. “You’re stressing about this Stain person for nothing, Hisashi. I thought you liked vigilantes?”

“They serve their purposes.” Dad shrugged, walking over with his pan and a stack of plates floating over behind him. The plates slid into their spots and he began separating eggs upon them. “I’m just curious, in case he decides to look into his coworkers.” He ended with a look toward Izuku.

The boy blushed, glancing away. “I’m fine, Dad.”

“Speaking of last night-” Mom interjected and Izuku became incredibly interested in his plate. “you can’t just disappear like that, Izuku!”

“I left a note on my desk.”

“Not good enough, anyone can write a note.” She continued. Dad shuffled away to remove his apron. “I understand you want to go out, but it’s dangerous!”

“He can defend himself, Inko.” Dad tried. He found his spot next to Izuku.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, Hisashi.” She said sternly. He shut his mouth and gave Izuku a small shrug. How determined. “Your friends are the reason our apartment building blew up in the first place.”

“I’m sorry.” He said, then quickly added. “Actually, they weren’t my friends-“ Mom sent him another glare and he remained silent.

Izuku poked at his eggs, glancing between them. They had been living in a more discrete, underground home since that incident. Izuku had been pulled out of public school, as well.

He was very grateful for that last part. He certainly didn’t miss school and having to lie to everyone about his quirk. Since then, he was officially homeschooled and preferred it immensely.

“So...can I go out today?” Both of his parents hesitated at the question.

“I understand you don’t get to go out much anymore, but she’s right, it is dangerous.” Dad pointed out. “The middle of the day is different than at night.”

“I just want to walk around, I won’t even use my quirk. Any of them.” Izuku added. “I just want to look around.”

“School?” Mom questioned.

“Finished all my work for the week yesterday.”

They exchanged a look. Izuku ate another bite, then decided it was time to pull out the real convincer.

Izuku turned to his father and frowned, looking at him with big, pleading eyes. “I just want to go out and do some quirk analysis and get some fresh air, I promise.” He begged.

Japan’s so-called most powerful supervillain crumbled instantly. “Ugh, why did he have to get your eyes?” He glanced at his wife. “It’s your call.”

Mom frowned, looking between them. Then she heaved a sigh. “I want you back for dinner and no quirks!” Izuku grinned.

It took a good twenty minute walk to get to the center of Musutafu. Izuku welcomed the walk, it was usually quiet at this time of the day when the world was already at work or school. The busy morning rush had already passed.

There were still a few stragglers that passed him up, but none of them spared a second glance at him. No one ever payed much attention to him anyway. He was unassuming in every way.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like his new apartment slash basement, it was nice and roomy enough for the three of them. He enjoyed not being stuck in school every day, he worked faster than most of the classes he had been stuck in and he didn’t have to deal with his peers anymore either. He didn’t even mind being mostly stuck with his parents all the time.

Dad had enough funds to provide for everything, so Mom didn’t work anymore and rarely left besides trips to the grocery store and their monthly date nights. Dad worked from home a lot, but sometimes he would leave for meetings or check-ins on his various assets, leagues, whatever else he was involved with. Only his most trusted allies knew Izuku or his mother existed at all and very rarely did they ever visit.

Izuku passed Shouto’s neighborhood and paused, peering down the street. Besides a few stray cars, it was empty and lifeless. It was Wednesday, after all, and Shouto couldn’t have been much older than him. He must be in school by now. The teenager continued walking, heading slowly but surely toward the city.

Most times, there were no particular missions or errands when he went out. Sometimes his mom asked him to pick up something on his way home, but usually he was free to explore as he pleased. He couldn’t make a scene and he most definitely couldn’t tell anyone his name.

After all, Midoriya Izuku died in that explosion six months ago. He and his mother were killed in a freak gas accident. A real tragedy.

It was really the result of some of Dad’s underground enemies who poked their noses where they shouldn’t have. He’s fairly strict about his family and they had been naive enough to assume he and Mom didn’t know anything about All for One.

Nonetheless, the media had marveled at the completion destruction of a lowlife villain gang no one had even known existed, a few days following the incident. He remembered watching them play that video of the crater that used to be their hideout on the news and cringing. Sometimes Izuku forgot how destructive Dad could be, especially after he so easily cowered in the face of his small son’s puppy eyes. He supposed it was somewhat the gang’s fault for looking into something Dad worked very hard to hide anyway.

It was midmorning by the time he reached the busier center of the city. Izuku weaved in between the crowds easily. He and his family were gifted with plain appearances, so no one offered him so much as an another glance after he slipped past them.

He caught a fight between a few villains and Mt. Lady. She was a rookie; impressive, but destructive. She managed to knock out the villains and the tops of three buildings in one supersized kick.

He scribbled obsessively in his notebook, probably earning strange looks from other bystanders for his muttering. It was another hard habit to shake.

Her quirk was good, nothing Izuku would ever desire, but still good. It was definitely too flashy to have any use to him. To be honest, Mt. Lady was just constantly screwing herself over in fights. A major city like this was really the wrong place for her to be based. She’d have more luck in rural areas, where she could grow and shrink with much less collateral damage. Maybe even near the coast, where she could walk through the ocean like a puddle to rescue stray boats or swimmers.

But, of course, she wouldn’t be nearly as popular if she was a small town hero, Izuku corrected as he watched her flirt with the nearby media crew. He forced himself to move on, eventually, as they started to clean up what the giant woman had ruined.

It was nearing noon when Izuku finally decided he should do something about lunch. He had paper money, nothing traceable, of course, and set off wandering the streets among other students from the nearby schools. He could belong to any of them, his hands tucked in his pockets; minus their matching uniforms.

He missed it a little sometimes.

The imaginary idea of going to school everyday, meeting his friends in between classes and laughing together at lunch, in between maths and chemistry.

That was idea was non-existent for him. It had been even when he had still been alive.

Izuku never had friends, never even had a teacher give him a longer look than they were forced. He was an outlier, unnatural, useless. They just didn’t really understand the extent of their conclusions.

“Oh, sorry!” A girl exclaimed, bumping into his shoulder. Izuku stumbled, surprised.

The girl gave him a little wave before she continued walking past him with her friends, each of them in matching skirts and ties. Izuku turned, but couldn’t come up with an answer before she was already gone, too distracted by the red in the corner of his eye.

His eyes flickered to the right. The boy curiously stepped closer to the window of the cafe, a small place that probably sold a variety of simple recipes. Izuku wasn’t concerned with the shop, but instead, what sat inside.

Shouto sat in a corner booth alone, stirring a bowl and flipping through a book absentmindedly, completely isolated from everyone else. He didn’t look up. Izuku lingered in the window a moment longer.

Something in him longed to walk inside, take the seat in front of him and strike up a conversation. Maybe he’d have the courage to tell him about all the things he did at night, what caused them to cross paths in the first place.

After a long minute and a shaky exhale, Izuku forced himself to keep walking, avoiding the other boy before he looked up and noticed him there.

Dad had strict rules about this sort of thing. They made sense, Izuku knew he only forced that sort of thing to keep him safe. No one could see his real quirk or face and live to tell the tale. No one could get to know him, no one could be his friend. That was the price they payed for safety.

Izuku never thought he’d miss the people who tormented him.

“Well, how was it?” Mom asked as he pulled off his sneakers. She wiped her hands on a rag, approaching him to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I saw a fight.” He said, glancing over her shoulder. He didn’t spot his father anywhere and, with a sensory quirk, decided he must be out of the house, busy with work.

She looked concerned. “Between who? You weren’t close, right?” She walked into the kitchen and he followed.

“Mt. Lady, she only debuted a few months ago, and a couple villains. One of them had some type of enhancement quirk and the rest had mutation quirks. I think I nailed down her cool-down period.” Izuku tried to not launch into the details of the quirks too obsessively. Mom, while she listened and encouraged, didn’t quite appreciate quirks like Dad did.

“Oh, well, as long as it was interesting.” She smiled a little. “I’m making miso soup for dinner, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Where’s Dad?”

“He said he had something he had to attend to.” She said, like it was a business meeting rather than probably a murder. “He claimed he’d be back soon.” Izuku smiled at her aspirated tone.

He should go change, return his things to his room. Instead, he hesitated for a moment, tugging on the straps of his bag awkwardly. “Mom, do you...do you ever miss it?”

She looked up, puzzled. “What, dear?

“Living like normal people.” He shrugged. “Going to normal school, work, that kind of thing.”

Several emotions passed through her eyes before she answered. She heaved a sigh, shaking her head. “Not as much as I thought I would.” Mom walked around the counter to take his hands gently. “Sometimes, yes. But I don’t ever regret marrying your father or saving him when I did. I don’t miss you coming home from school, battered and bruised because you had to hide a part of yourself from those kids.”

He frowned, phantom pain flashing in the back of his mind. “Mom...”

She smiled a little sadly. “It’s in moments like those that I really understand what he’s trying to do. I mean, I don’t always agree with the methods, but I get what he’s fighting for. The way people treated you because of your lack of a quirk, the way mean kids like Katsuki were idolized, what All Might said to you, it’s wrong. I see how much your father does for us, what he was willing to give up to keep us safe, and then I don’t miss it very much at all.”

Chapter Text

Twice in less than a month, Shouto found himself climbing over the fence surrounding his house and dropping to the ground on the other side.

The street, as expected at this hour, was devoid of life and bitterly cold. He didn’t linger for long, taking off without another thought into the darkness. His father was working late tonight, giving him a small break from training. His always aching body cried in relief as he walked away from the leering home.

This time, unlike all the other times he had snuck out, immediately wasn’t quite the same. Usually, it was a method of escape. With his father absent and the lateness of the hour, there wasn’t really anything that should be keeping him up and awake. He should be already halfway through a nightmare by now.

Instead, his insomnia had been even worse lately, and after nearly two weeks of those plaguing words, Shouto had narrowed it down.

It was stupid Izuku.

His late night savior, if he even dared to call him that. He had saved his life, with his mysterious quirk and his even more confusing generosity. He was keeping him up, for a reason Shouto couldn’t quite understand. He only had traced it back to him.

He had assumed, at first, he was one of those less-popular, underground heroes, but looking up his name with his father’s login to hero database had warranted no results and he figured Izuku looked far too young to actually be licensed. Something about the word hero, when associated with Izuku, didn’t sound quite right anyway.

His quirk, as well, was a mystery. He had done several unrelated things that night, seemingly nothing that could be explained in just one quirk. It had, crazy as it sounded, appeared that he had more than one quirk.

That was impossible. It didn’t make any sense at all.

The most troubling thing, however, beyond the weird quirk and outfit and alliance, was Izuku himself. His hesitant smile, his soft concern.

He had helped him, for no reason at all. He put himself in harm’s way for Shouto. He certainly hadn’t asked him to do that. Shouto had spent far too much brain power trying to figure him out and still had no answers.

Therefore, it only made sense to find the offender and figure out exactly why he did what he had done.

Shouto very quickly found himself standing in the middle of that same street where they had met. He glanced up at the surrounding fire escape, inspected all of the shattered and taped up windows. There was some dried blood that might have been his stained on the concrete. He saw no familiar shadows. Shouto pressed his mouth into a line and continued walking.

It was only a few more steps down the street before he heard a weight drop to the ground behind him. He stiffened, raising his hand and whirling around for a fight. Frost climbed up his right arm.

“Whoa, it’s just me!” Izuku squeaked, holding up his hands in surrender. His face was hidden by his hood and mask, green ears falling comically on either side of his head.

Shouto narrowed his eyes. “So, you’re stalking me, then?”

“You’re the one walking out in the middle of the night again.” He argued, dropping his hands to his sides once Shouto made no move to attack him. “I’m not stalking you, it’s just a coincidence. Besides, it’s kind of hard for you to blend in.”

The other was unconvinced, but ignored it for the time being. “Are you a hero?” Shouto asked blatantly.

Izuku snorted. “Uh, no.”

“A villain, then.”

“That’s extreme. I prefer something more in the middle.” Izuku returned, but gave no further explanation.

Shouto frowned. He paused for a moment, debating, before he suddenly reached forward and pushed off his hood.

Izuku yelped, scrambling to pull it back on. “Wai- Hey! What’s your problem?”

“Why are you hiding your face?” He asked narrowly. “I’ve already seen it.”

“Just because you have, doesn’t mean everyone else should!” Izuku argued, tugging the hood back over his curls. Shouto didn’t answer, crossing his arms over his chest. The shorter boy sighed, slouching. “Look, if you want to be left alone, that’s fine. I can take a hint.”

With that, Izuku turned, beginning to walk away. Shouto snapped to attention, starting after him. “Wait.” He grabbed onto his sleeve and Izuku paused. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Certainly doesn’t seem like that.”

Shouto sighed, his breath icy. He hesitated over his words, chewing on his lip. “I need answers.” He finally gasped.

Izuku stiffened a little under his hand. “A-About?”

“I keep...thinking about you. Why would- Why did you save me, then?”

“Oh.” Izuku relaxed, sighing. Shouto let go of him as he turned to face him. “We should talk somewhere else, if that’s okay.”

“Where?”

“Close by.” Izuku said, holding out his hand. “Trust me?”

Shouto didn’t like those words.

He hated trust. It never lasted. It always let him down.

Izuku, so far, hadn’t, though. He had saved his life once already, that should be enough to warrant some trust, shouldn’t it? Shouto hesitated, holding his hand stiffly above Izuku’s outstretched one.

The shorter boy didn’t push him. He simply waited patiently, like he was calling a wild animal toward him.

Finally, Shouto touched his hand.

Pins and needles alighted his body in an instant. He let out a surprised gasp, but he wasn’t sure it was heard. The cold street around them twisted and vanished. Suddenly, they were somewhere new.

A rooftop, overlooking the northern edge of the city. Tall buildings loomed ominously in the distance, lit up with little window lights. If Shouto stared long enough, he could see them lazily blinking back at him. His neighborhood was in view, a bit closer. He traced the power lines with his eyes.

“Is this okay?” Izuku asked softly, Shouto distantly remembered he was still there beside him. He pulled off his hood and tugged down the mask, giving him a small smile.

“What did you do?”

“Oh, uh, teleported. It’s only in a certain area, relative to my location-“

“Why did you save me, then?” He interrupted the explanation curtly.

Izuku‘s expression fell a little. A soft, melancholy smile crossed his lips as he spoke. “You...You looked like you needed saving.”

“Maybe I didn’t need it.” Shouto bit back.

He hesitated, shaking his head. “He was unhinged. He was trying to hurt you, maybe even kill yo-“ Izuku suddenly stopped, staring blankly at his face as the gears in his head turned. His silent realization plagued Shouto. He awkwardly looked away from his prying eyes. “W-Why?”

“Spite.” Shouto shrugged. It would have been nice to see the look on his father’s face at the news.

It would have been nice to shut his eyes and never have to open them again. It would have been nice to have all the pain finally fade into empty bliss.

Izuku scowled. “You were going to let him kill you out of spite? For what? That makes no sense, why would you do that?” Something about him shifted, green eyes glittering with anger.

“You don’t get to stroll into my life and act like you understand me.” Shouto retorted shortly.

“Then explain it to me!” He snapped, green electricity flashed for less than a second. “I don’t get it, why?”

Shouto didn’t answer, huffing. His breath was visible between them. He could feel the frustration radiating from the shorter boy. Instead, he ignored him.

He walked over to the edge and sat down, legs hanging over the edge. He stared at the city in stifling silence, wondering how exactly he was supposed to leave if he couldn’t teleport like him.

Trust was a stupid concept.

After a long moment, there was some shuffling and a sigh behind him. Then, Izuku sat in the spot beside him.

“Sorry.” He whispered. Shouto didn’t answer. “I-I didn’t mean it like that.” Izuku added quietly.

Shouto tilted his head, only to indicate he was listening. His eyes remained focused on the city in the distance, tracing the outline of the skyscrapers in search of a distraction.

“I can’t be a hero.” Izuku suddenly continued. “It, um, It’s complicated, but I still try to help people when I can, under the radar.” He explained. “I just want to understand...to help. I could tell you’re a good fighter, your quirk seems powerful, but you weren’t really trying. You had already given up. I don’t get why. Why wouldn’t you give it your all?”

He wondered if he was really that easy to read, or if that was just Izuku. Shouto cautiously stole a glance, momentarily startled by his worried expression. He opened his mouth, debating over an answer.

Strangely, he wanted to tell him everything.

“What’s your quirk?” Shouto forced out instead. A chilly breeze passed between them, but he didn’t think that was the reason Izuku stiffened. “I’ve seen you heal, teleport, move stuff without touching it, plus whatever you did to that man. There’s no single quirk that does that.”

He looked awkward, suddenly, fiddling with his fingers. “I borrow quirks.” Izuku began. “It’s, uh, limited, obviously. That’s why I can do so much.”

Shouto thought about his answer. It seemed half-baked, but he was desperate for a distraction from the previous conversation. He held out his hand. “Borrow mine, then.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. “I-I don’t know about that-“

“I don’t mind.” Shouto returned. “I’d like to see it in action.”

He looked torn, staring down at Shouto’s palm. “Are you sure?” He asked carefully. The taller teenager nodded, unsure what he was so worried about.

Finally, Izuku nodded as well and sighed. “Only for a minute.” He murmured to himself, finally reaching forward.

A flash of green electricity flickered across his skin as they touched. Izuku exhaled softly. The cold air suddenly felt a little more biting.

Distantly, he noticed an unfamiliar emptiness. It was in the back of his mind, subconsciously just out of reach, like a forgotten word always stuck on the tip of his tongue. Almost unimportant, if he didn’t focus on it.

An aftereffect of his borrowing, Shouto assumed. He didn’t linger on it.

Izuku held out his hand away from him. In return, a bright flame sprang out of his palm. He yelped, immediately extinguishing it. “Fire?!” Izuku gave him a shocked and concerned expression.

“Oh, yeah.” He remembered, absentmindedly. It had been so long since he had seen that fire on anyone besides his father. “It’s fire on the left and ice on the right.”

“You have...” He trailed off, returning his full attention to his hands.

Izuku’s eyes were wonderfilled as he held out both of his hands again. The fire relit on the left, while ice climbed over his right fingers. “Oh.” He noted, turning over his hands and watching the quirk curiously. When he bent his fingers, the ice cracked like glass.

The shorter teenager looked so impressed, mouth parted. The light of the fire danced in his left hand, making him glow in the afterlight. “It’s wonderful, Shouto.”

Shouto glanced at his own hands, littered with little pink burns and scars. “Right.” He muttered, unconvinced.

“No, I mean it.” Izuku insisted. The quirk faded and he looked back at him, eyes sparkling with emerald determination. “It really is wonderful. Thank you for letting me borrow your quirk.”

He stiffened at the sincerity in his tone. Strange...and wrong. “The fire is my father’s.” He answered, strangled. Shouto forced his gaze to the ground far below them.

“What does that mean?” Izuku touched his hand again, gently pushing him for an answer.

”The fire half is my father’s.” He repeated, swallowing the thickness of his tone.

“Oh, so your quirk is a combination of your parents? Your mom must have the ice half, right? It felt like a clear divide down my body, when I used it, I’m guess that’s why your hair and eyes are different colors, then. Do you think it’s some type of chimerism? That’s really rare in humans, but-“ He was rambling, somewhat, talking quickly and quietly, mostly to himself.

He easily broke down the origins and properties of his quirk in minutes. Shouto remained hooked on those first words, silently listening. That dull, empty feeling was gone, he noticed absentmindedly.

“It’s not my quirk.” He interrupted firmly.

The shorter boy looked back at him, confused. “Why not?” For someone dressed in all dark colors in the dead of the night, he seemed so bright. His eyes flickered across Shouto’s face, searching.

“Have...” His voice faded under his gaze. Shouto knew he shouldn’t continue. Complaining about his life to this compete and utter, admittedly dangerous, stranger was a bad idea. Even he knew that.

Something about Izuku radiated trust. Shouto didn’t understand how, or what, but something did.

He had never met anyone quite like him, so sweet and straightforward. His emotions were so painfully obvious, written across his face; his heart on display on his sleeve. Everything in Shouto told him to continue, to share the details he never allowed himself to tell. Of all the people in the world, Izuku seemed like he would be the first one to actually listen.

Before he could think about it any further, Shouto spoke. “Have you ever heard of quirk marriages?”

The other boy opened his mouth, then paused. He nodded slowly, a weary expression crossing his features. That was all Shouto needed. After that, the words just flowed out of him.

He told him about his father, his ever-stationary second place behind All Might, his parents’ fake, hollow marriage. Then it was the scar, the whistling kettle, and the last words she had said to him before his face burned. Finally, the training, endless hours isolated in that dojo at his father’s nonexistent mercy.

He watched Izuku’s face shift while he spoke, first shock and confusion. Then horror and...anger. Fury.

Izuku looked furious. It was unsettling dark.

“I guess I was hoping that man would kill me, just so that I could know my father failed. His greatest creation would be ruined.” He concluded quietly.

“Shouto...” Izuku didn’t seem to know what to say.

That was fair, he supposed. Shouto didn’t know what he’d say if their positions were reversed. He occupied himself by staring at the street, a midnight-black car sped past below their feet.

“It’s still yours, you know.” Izuku finally said.

The statement shocked him out of his staring. “What?”

He took Shouto’s left hand, holding it carefully in his smaller hands, as if he was something precious. “This power is yours. What you do with it is entirely your choice.”

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“You’re not.”

“You don’t know me.” Shouto hissed back automatically.

Izuku smiled a little, squeezing his hand. He shyly met his gaze. “Shouto, anyone with eyes can see you’re not your father. I know, if you choose to, you’d be a wonderful hero. A real hero, not the sham that he is. You’re right...in that I don’t know you, but I-I’d like to.”

Shouto blinked at him, puzzled. No one had said anything like that to him in a long time. The soft tone and whisper of a smile were foreign.

It was reminiscent of the things his mother used to say. Before she poured boiling water on his face, at least.

“The fact of the matter is that it’s your quirk. He has stolen so much from you, don’t let him take that, too.” Izuku continued, giving him a determined smile.

His voice had fizzled and died in his throat, eyes blown wide.

Izuku was a stranger that knew him better than he knew himself. He picked him apart, with his kind words, worn hands, and stunning smiles. Shouto sucked in a breath of cold air, feeling dizzy.

Suddenly, Izuku was smiling wider. He pointed at the left side of his head, something golden reflecting in his bright eyes. Shouto tilted his head to see a little flame licking at the end of his hair.

The cold breeze carried it. The embers reminiscent of fireflies.

“See?” Izuku laughed. “Yours.”

There were holes in the story Izuku shared.

He was fifteen, the same age as Shouto, would be sixteen in the late summer. He claimed he was homeschooled, that his quirk came from his father, too. He didn’t share a family name.

He didn’t offer why he had started his vigilante activities. He had aspired to be a hero, at some point in his childhood, but said he gave up any type of hero school after an incident in middle school that he didn’t share anymore details about.

He seemed fascinated in the fact that Shouto was set up to attend Yuuei next year. The recommendations exam was coming up soon and it was no wonder that he’d pass it. His father would guarantee it.

Izuku was a strange person.

Sure, he shared just as much about himself as Shouto did, but half of it was vague, or hesitantly spoken, almost like a lie. Shouto let it go, for the time being. He was still reeling from the comment about his quirk to pay much attention anyway.

As the moon dipped lower in the sky, Izuku climbed to his feet. “I have to get home soon.” He said, holding out his hand to him.

Shouto didn’t hesitate this time and the rooftop vanished again. They were standing in a street, not far from his neighborhood. He glanced around at the stray streetlights, slowly tugging his hand from his.

“I...was meaning to ask, what’s the deal with the ears?” Shouto tried, desperately for more details.

Izuku paused, blinking puzzledly at him. Shouto pointed up at his hood and he quickly blushed, pulling up his mask. “O-Oh, uh, my mom made this for me. She used the same pattern as an old All Might hoodie, for my size, so they’re supposed to his hair pieces, actually.”

The taller teenager raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“Your mother knows you do this whole...vigilante thing?”

Izuku blushed, tucking his hands in his big hoodie pocket. “Yeah, both my mom and dad know.”

“I’m surprised they allow it.”

“Well, they know I’d probably just do it behind their backs if they didn’t, so I guess they figure it’s easier if I’m just up front about it.” He explained.

“Ah.” Shouto answered. That type of freedom must be nice. “What are your parents like?”

Izuku paused with a hum, debating the question. “They’re nice. I couldn’t ask for anyone better. Y-You should, uh, meet them, sometime.”

He glanced at Izuku in surprise. “Really?”

“Eventually.” He shrugged, tugging out his hands again to pick awkwardly at his fingers. “Unless you don’t want to keep meeting like this.” Izuku blinked and backtracked. “T-That’s fine, of course, if you don’t want to. I get this is weird, I just, um, don’t have many friends, and I-I just thought-”

“That sounds nice, Izuku.” Shouto interrupted his muttered excuses. He seemed so unsure of himself, sometimes.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea.

Well, it definitely wasn’t a good idea. He certainly didn’t know Izuku well. He had just revealed his identity as the son of the number two hero. Were it anyone else, he definitely wouldn’t be repeatedly meeting them in a dark alley.

Izuku was different, though. He was special, someone Shouto desperately needed to know more about.

He was something like him, just another lonely person looking for someone else to talk to. Looking for a friend. Besides, it wasn’t like Shouto had any other friends either.

“Wait, r-really? That’s good, then!” He gasped, looking excited.

Shouto glanced back at his street. “Do you have a phone or something? How am I supposed contact you?”

“Oh, u-uh, no.” Izuku returned. “But if you ever wanna talk, I’ll find you.”

He pulled up his hood again, then vanished. Shouto blinked in surprise, looking around the street for the shorter boy. Then, he remembered the borrowing. Strangely, he realized that Izuku didn’t seem to be able to keep Shouto’s quirk for as long as the teleporting one.

At the thought of his quirk, he held up his left hand. Fleetingly, he summoned a small flame. Even stranger, the sensation reminded him more of Izuku than his father.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Dad?” Izuku broke the comfortable silence of breakfast, slicing through his pancake stack. Both his parents looked up at the question.

“Yes?” His father returned skeptically.

“If I asked you to kill a pro-hero, would you?”

Dad coughed a little, taking a sip of his coffee quickly and shooting a concerned look over his head.

Mom’s eyes widened. “Izuku! What is this about?!”

He stabbed a piece of his pancake threateningly. “I found out Endeavor isn’t a very good person.” The teenager muttered, scowling before he popped the piece in his mouth. “It’s only hypothetical, right now, I’m just curious.”

His father furrowed his eyebrows, exchanging another glance with his mother. He paused thoughtfully before he spoke. “Well, I’d say, ‘anything for you, Izuku.’ I never liked Endeavor much anyway.”

“Don’t encourage him.” Mom sighed with a shake of her head.

“I didn’t tell him to kill anyone.” Dad argued, looking offended.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” She answered, deadpanned.

Izuku smiled sheepishly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He slouched in his seat and returned his sole attention back toward his food, chewing quietly.

“So,” His father cleared his throat and continued. “is this about why you were out so late last night?”

He stiffened, avoiding their, likely judgement and anxiously parental, gaze. “Maybe.”

“Izuku,” His mother warned. “I don’t ask about what you do out there all night. I don’t ask about where all the quirks come from, but I draw the line at the number two hero!”

“I’m not planning anything, Mom.” He returned, blushing. That wasn’t completely true, but it wasn’t completely false either. He wasn’t planning anything, yet. Those were his plans for the day.

Dad saw straight through him, peering over his coffee mug. His dark eyes assessed him for a moment, making Izuku want to guiltily sink even lower in his chair.

Finally, Dad gave him a small smile. “At least warn us if you do, we can go find you a very nice fire-resistant quirk.”

“Hisashi!”

After helping clean up breakfast, Izuku disappeared without celebration, shutting the door to his room behind him. Today was the usual weekly grocery run, so Mom had left not long ago. Dad was holed up in his office, talking sternly to Kuroguri.

The mist man was one of Izuku’s more favorite of Dad’s co-workers. He was nice and saintly patient. He watched Izuku a few times when he was younger, when his parents stopped allowing him to spend the night at Kacchan’s.

Kuroguri certainly didn’t deserve to be stuck babysitting Tomura all the time. Tomura was a hard person to get along with. Izuku might go insane if he had to deal with him all the time like he did. Even Dad didn’t have that kind of patience, proof being the less and less common visits to the bar.

He waited with his back pressed against the door. The teenager called upon a sensory quirk to check on his location, still sitting in his office down the hall. Satisfied, Izuku grabbed his laptop and one of his emptier notebooks and plopped down on his bed. He opened both and hesitated for a minute, staring at the empty search bar.

Shouto’s confession last night had been shocking, borderline unbelievable if Izuku hadn’t activated an integrity quirk halfway through, just to make sure. It had only furthered his resolve by the end of the night.

He was going to figure out a way to make Endeavor pay for what he’d done. Izuku hadn’t known Shouto for long, but if there was a way to help him, then he’d find it. He must.

That was the freedom of being a vigilante rather than a hero. He could plot against the number two hero easily without any sense of betrayal. After all, he and Endevour were on opposite sides of the playing field. It was only fair.

Dad, while effective, was messy. He’d have to admit that he wasn’t following his rules and possibly give up any contact with Shouto after it was done. The comment at breakfast aside, this was a careful situation that, honestly, the biggest supervillain in Japan really didn’t need to know about.

Izuku began by typing in Shouto’s full name. He quickly realized he didn’t have a pencil for notes while it loaded. The teenager summoned one from the cup on his desk with the energy-based telekinesis quirk. It slid into his hand, green aura fading into the air.

As expected, several articles came up about Endeavor. Shouto was mentioned in the spare interview: his high hopes for his son’s future, his promising recommendation for Yuuei. Izuku resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

A few photos of Shouto and his father from press events came up as well. Among the first couple rows of results there was also an old photo of the entire Todoroki family from some formal PR event. A scarless, toddler version of Shouto was perched on the hip of a woman with long white hair he assumed was his mother. She seemed tired, a weak smile pulling at her lips.

When he was looking for it, the truth was painfully obvious. Izuku chewed absentmindedly on his pencil while he scolled.

Endeavor rarely mentioned his family, usually only answering when he was outright asked about them, which also wasn’t often. It was almost like the rare interviews he gave were scripted and censored; disappointing, but not surprising. He never discussed their hobbies, career paths, characteristics; it took Izuku half an hour to even find the name of one of Shouto’s brothers. The rare times he mentioned them were usually only to bring up Shouto and his potential, extremely subtly sprinkling in his future in heroics.

Shouto’s older siblings were even little less frequent in his searches. The sister was a teacher at an elementary school not far from Shouto’s home. Izuku only connected her to Shouto by the similar, small smile she wore in her photo and the same last name listed on the school’s website.

All that was left of one brother, according to a not-so-secure police database, was a cold missing persons case. There had been no leads about him since he disappeared in middle school, nearly a decade ago. The last brother was a student at a distant pre-med university. Izuku could guess why he chose such a far school.

He wrinkled his nose at his pencil, pulling it away from his mouth and scolding himself for the gross habit. He didn’t have to silence his muttering anymore, not here at least.

Shouto mentioned his mother’s hospitalization, but never specified where she was staying currently. He hadn’t seen her in years, but with a quick check to the local hospitals’, also far too easy to get into, patient records, Izuku found a long-term psychiatric patient named Todoroki Rei. He scribbled down her room number for future reference. He also noticed, among doctors’ notes on her records, that she probably should have been released years ago, but hadn’t.

Sighing, Izuku leaned back on his pillow, holding up his book while he assessed his scribbles. He had divided off the page in a timeline, roughly estimating the history of Endeavor’s abuse based on past articles, interviews, medical records, and Shouto’s story. In addition, he had a short profile of each of his siblings and his mother, their current whereabouts, besides the missing brother obviously, relationships, and quirks.

It wasn’t as extensive as he liked, but after a few hours of web searching, it was what he had. Izuku had come to a not so great conclusion.

He was not the only one who had been told about Endeavor’s abuse.

The details were sparing, but revolved around the accounts of a few random Endeavor fans who were unceremoniously swept under the rug and friends of Shouto’s older siblings, especially the missing brother, Touya’s. Even fellow heroes had commented sparingly about his stiff or nearly absent behavior concerning his wife and children.

Yet, when the oldest brother and mother seemingly vanished, there was no news. That sort of thing, with a hero as popular as Endeavor, couldn’t just go unnoticed. Heroes were practically celebrities at this point, especially one as high-ranked as Endeavor. Everything they did was advertised.

The level of security and press control that would have had to happen to keep not one, but both of their disappearances private was more than even Endeavor could probably handle. There was no question that the truth had been admitted to someone, at some point, which presented a worse problem.

The Heroes’ Commission was likely aware of what Shouto was going through and was allowing it to continue.

Izuku felt sick. His pencil’s eraser found its way back to his teeth.

How could someone call themselves a hero, then stand idly by while this happened? Endeavor was actively abusing his son, had driven his wife to insanity, possibly had something to do with his other son’s disappearance, and these heroes were just standing by and allowing it.

Likely, it was out of fear. They needed capable heroes on the job and, while he wasn’t popular with the public and media, Endeavor was good at putting villains behind bars. He was even better than All Might, but constantly fell behind him because of that fickle public approval.

They knew about all it, probably after the older brother’s disappearance, but possibly as early Shouto’s mother’s hospitalization. An accident like that was hard to ignore. The media barely mentioned his mother at all in recent years, showcasing that they had no idea about what had actually happened.

Death would be too easy.

Death, at the hands of any mystery villain like Izuku or his father, would not reveal the truth about Endeavor. He would die a hero, funeral and euglies full of praise and celebration. It would leave Shouto and his family without that substantial, number two hero financial support. Izuku tossed his pencil away unceremoniously, gritting his teeth.

The only thing that it would probably accomplish would be Rei’s release from the hospital, but she would still be labeled as insane, possibly still deemed unable to even care for Shouto and they would remain separated. Death, while definitely the most fun and satisfying, couldn’t be the first solution.

Maybe a few years down the line, if Shouto was still interested.

The best solution, Izuku unfortunately admitted, would be a full exposure of Endeavor’s crimes. Letting the reality of what he did be shown to all his co-workers, fans, supporters. The world had to see exactly what kind of man he was, what they allowed him to become.

It would certainly force him into retirement, probably call for a legal investigation resulting in divorce and loss of his custody of his remaining children. Maybe even jail and a revocation of his hero license, if Izuku was lucky.

The Heroes’ Commission, if Izuku could somehow show that they already knew, would lose a ton of public support for allowing someone like that to hold the number two spot for so long. It would be incredibly damaging to the entire hero system in an ideal situation, leaving the public confused and distrusting of heroes in general. It would probably be more damaging if it was someone like All Might, but number two would have to do.

Izuku absentmindedly wondered how the number one would react, knowing that simply his existence led to the destruction of an entire family. He knew it wasn’t directly All Might’s fault, exactly, but hopefully the man wouldn’t see it like that and take it far more personally.

However, as great as all that was in his head, it wasn’t something Izuku could do on his own. He didn’t have the information, the credibility, nor the platform to make a claim like that and actually have it go anywhere. He’d have to suggest it to Shouto, maybe he’d have a better plan to go about it.

There was a sudden knock, the door creaked open wider. Izuku jolted, pressing his notebook to his chest and looking up at the intruder.

Dad glanced curiously at the floor, probably noticing the half-chewed pencil, then gave him a smile. “I heard you muttering in here, thought I’d come check on you.” He explained.

“Oh.” Izuku blushed, flipping through his book to a random hero page. He closed his laptop as his father sat on the other end of his bed. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re never a bother.” He reassured instantly. “But, I wanted to ask about breakfast. Endeavor?”

“It’s fine.” Izuku said quickly, terribly unconvincing. “I’m handling it.”

“Did he do anything to you?” Dad asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No, no!” Izuku sat up promptly. Great, now tomorrow’s headlines would go insane with the sudden and brutal death of the number two hero. “I promise, it’s nothing.”

“Izuku,” He began carefully. “I know how you think. What are you planning?”

The teenager smiled weakly. “Nothing, yet.”

Dad sighed, exasperated. He reached over to mess up his unkept curls. “Well, be careful about your nonexistent plans and please if you want him dead, let me handle it.”

Izuku gave him a small smile. “I will. Don’t worry about me, Dad.”

Chapter Text

Shouto did not like hospitals.

He had never liked them, probably because his first memory of them was waking alone in an eerily white room while the left side of his face simmered. Every time his father went just far enough; the numbing, hot pain and the distant sound of his mother, or later his sister, begging for him to stop. It nearly always ended with waking alone in a white room that smelled like smoke and death, with that hazy, drug induced numbness hanging over him.

He hadn’t liked them then, he still didn’t like them now, standing before the offending building.

Sure, mental hospitals were different than the ones Shouto had visited, never the same one twice, but the same dislike lingered. He stared up at the concrete walls, sleek address plate. His gaze dropped to the paper in his hand instead, in any attempt to distract himself.

It was a nearly decade old now, according to the date printed at the bottom. Faded text and creased lines and torn edges. His father had switched the payment to an online account years ago.

Shouto wouldn’t have known where to even begin without the old bill. Perhaps that why he had switched the payment online in the first place.

He was so naive. He should know better.

He should leave.

Remarkably, he wanted nothing more than Izuku beside him. Something to instill some type of courage to walk through those glass doors. He had only known the other teenager for a month now, with their offhand meetings, but he had already managed to worm his way into an uncomfortable amount of Shouto’s thoughts.

A trembling exhale shook him.

“Excuse me,” The teenager stiffened, looking up to see a woman suddenly standing before him. She was dressed in a pale uniform, clearly a nurse that probably worked in the building before him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Shouto managed.

She nodded a little, clearing her throat. “Oh, well...you’ve, um, been standing outside for like twenty minutes now.” She pointed over her shoulder, through the glass doors to the front desk that had a very clear view of him. There was another nurse sitting there, evidently watching their conversation.

“Oh.”

“But, if you’re alright...” She trailed off, turning to shrug at her co-worker and walk back inside.

“Wait.” He called, grip on the paper tightening. It crumpled in his hand. This undoubtedly wasn’t the place for this conversation, but Shouto didn’t have it in him to care. “Do you know Todoroki Rei?”

The nurse blinked at him. “Are you a relative?”

“I’m her son.”

She inspected him for a long minute, gaze finally falling to linger on the scar. Shouto was used to staring, it was to be expected, but usually people weren’t so obvious about it. “I see...” She finally said awkwardly. “If you, um, want to come inside, you know you can fill out a visitor’s page.”

“Right.” He knew that.

That was why he was here, after all. It was why he had dug through the old files of his father’s office for thirty minutes, because for some reason there were six different mental hospitals in the area and over the last decade Shouto had never cared to figure out which one his mother stayed in. It was what he had been tearing himself apart over for the last week, since the moment Izuku had uttered those painfully simple words.

Without another excuse, he followed the woman inside.

“Do you have a tracker on me, or something?” Izuku laughed, smile hiding behind his mask. Shouto turned to face him, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jacket awkwardly.

“Nope! This is just right in the middle of my patrolling area.” He returned happily.

“You say that like you’re a hero.” His father mentioned patrols all the time.

Izuku didn’t visibly change, not that Shouto could see his face, but the air chilled slightly and he shook his head. “I’m not a hero, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Shouto opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Truthfully, he was never worried when he was with Izuku. Whether it was stupidity or trust, he wasn’t sure yet.

When he didn’t answer, Izuku took another step. He held out his hands like he was teaching him to walk. He could imagine the encouraging smile the shorter boy wore. “Want to come with me?”

“Come with you? Where?”

Izuku shrugged nonchalantly. “Wherever the crime takes us. I usually try to stick in the same district, so I don’t run into the underground pros, but sometimes I get distracted. Or lost.”

He paused, debating over an answer. He supposed he had snuck out tonight for a distraction, this was as good as any. “Okay.”

The shorter boy nodded quickly, clearly excited. He tried to dampen it when he spoke, but the emotion still seeped through. “C-Cool! Um, come on, then.” He grabbed Shouto’s hand, the left one he dimly noticed, and they took off into the darkness.

Stifled silence filled the air between them. Izuku led him down long streets and winding corners. Shouto followed him without a word, barely paying attention to where they were going. In hindsight, following an almost stranger without question in the middle of the night was probably not his brightest moment.

The other made faint noises every once in a while, like he wanted to say something, but his voice always fizzled out before anything was ever said. Shouto didn’t have the heart to say anything either. He remained the wordless shadow.

Izuku suddenly held out his hand in front of him, breaking their silent pace. Shouto stopped and stared at their surroundings, a late winter street devoid of life on every side of them. He wasn’t sure what had caught the other boy’s attention. There was a little, lit-up store they passed earlier at the corner behind them, but besides that, the buildings above them were empty, too.

“Someone’s watching us.” He whispered, just loud enough for Shouto to hear. Shouto stiffened, but before he could look around again Izuku grabbed his hand. “Don’t.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, I just...” He froze, grip tightening.

Shouto frowned, gaze flickering from their joined hands to Izuku’s face. Only the edge of him was visible, dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. He was about to ask him what was going on, when Izuku suddenly tugged on his hand.

“Run!” He exclaimed, taking off.

The taller teenager stumbled to keep up, twisting around to try and understand what they were even running from. He didn’t see anything in the street, not even the distant headlights of a car.

Izuku just gripped his hand tighter, tugging him down the sidewalk. Shouto focused on the path before him, pushing to keep up with the shorter boy. He was misleadingly fast. Their footsteps echoed in tune with his racing heartbeat.

He didn’t know what they was running from, but some insane rush bubbled up inside him at the absurdity of it all. His mother, his father, and running at full speed in the middle of the night with a near stranger.

A wild gasp spilled from his lungs, something almost like laughter graced his ears. Shouto didn’t know who it belonged to, between the two of them. Chill winter air burned his lungs. He heard Izuku panting at his side, his fingers firmly grasped in his colder ones.

Izuku led him around another corner, twisting behind the wall. The darker-haired teenager let out an excited exclamation.

He shifted suddenly, strangely graceful, bouncing and twisting on his heel to pull Shouto closer.

Izuku’s skin on his lit him aflame. His sense of gravity wavered.

Then they were free falling. That increasing familiar sense of Izuku’s teleporting spread through him.

They crashed to the ground together, abruptly inside. Shouto’s back ached from the impact, pinned to the cold floor by Izuku. He paused, breathing fast and staring up into wide, green eyes. Izuku’s hands gripped his shirt, frozen for a painstakingly long moment.

“S-Sorry.” He finally gasped, scrambling away from Shouto. “I’m sorry.”

His hand brushed against the recent burn on his wrist and he hissed in pain, pushing Izuku the rest of the way off of him. Shouto sat against the wall, peering up at the tall shelves surrounding them while he gripped the injury. He had no idea where they were, but it looked like the back counter of some musty storeroom.

“Where are we?” He asked at the same Izuku chose to speak again.

“Are you okay?” The shorter boy squeaked to a halt, pulling down his hood and mask.

Shouto raised his eyebrows. That awkwardness was back again, thrown over his features like a blanket. Izuku stuffed his black mask in his pocket and remained silent, clearly giving Shouto the space to answer.

“Where are we?” He repeated.

“Oh, um-“ Izuku sat on his knees, staring up at the walls. “I think it’s that grocery store that was to our left. I didn’t really think about it before I jumped.”

“What was that about? Who were we running from?” Shouto still hadn’t seen anything. Blind faith had simply taken over.

“Eraserhead. Or, I think so.”

The taller teenager raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. “A vigilante you know?”

Izuku smiled shyly. “No, he’s an underground hero, fully licensed and everything. You probably don’t know him, he’s not very popular or anything...He can cancel people’s quirks, it’s really impressive actually, but I could feel- I mean, uh.” He cut off awkwardly, suddenly interested in his hands.

Shouto took the silence and didn’t press the topic. He looked away from Izuku, eyes drawing to the bandage peeking out from underneath his sweatshirt sleeve. The skin ached, stained by the other’s touch.

“Your father?”

“I’m fine,” Shouto muttered, tugging down the sleeve to hide the edge of the pale bandage. “it’s not bad.”

His face fell, hesitantly crawling closer. “Why didn’t you say you were hurt?” Something about his tone nearly sounded betrayed.

“It’s not bad.” He echoed.

Izuku gave him a strange expression, half torn between several emotions Shouto couldn’t quite identify before they vanished altogether. His sigh sounded strangled. “I still want to know.” He began cautiously. “If we’re...if you’re my friend, then I want to know, I-I want to help you, but you’ve got to tell me first.”

“Are we friends?”

The shorter teenager offered his hand, giving him a faint smile. “I’d like to be.”

Shouto didn’t answer, not aloud. He rolled up his sleeve, unwrapping the lazy bandage with a hiss. It was messily done, thrown on in the time between his father’s outburst and the late night hours of him crawling out his window again.

Finally, he allowed Izuku to wrap his fingers around the irritated skin, teeth sunk in his bottom lip. The other muttered another apology as a satisfying cool spread from his fingers, chilling him to the bone.

For a long time, hours or minutes or something between, it was just quiet. There was the distant sound of stray cars outside. Creaking as the building settled around them. Shouto heard no sound of that hero following them in here, perhaps he had given up the chase when they disappeared. Perhaps he had never been there at all.

His eyes wandered from the wooden tiles, counting them to pass the time, to the skin on his wrist that looked considerably less angry, finally to Izuku’s hands. They were rough, but gentle. Calloused, covered in little scars, dirt making a home under his fingernails.

“I visited my mother.” Shouto admitted, hushed like it was a secret.

Izuku didn’t pause with the healing, but his eyes jerked up, betraying his surprise. He met Shouto’s. For a moment he didn’t answer, too many unspoken things passing through the other boy’s gaze. Finally, he realized he should probably say something. “Y-You did?”

He tried to nod, but the feeling faded, so he just glanced away. “She apologized to me.”

“Oh?” Izuku whispered, pushing him to continue.

“I asked her why...it wasn’t her fault.” The taller teenager said. “But she had spent the last ten years thinking I blamed her for...you know, this.” He pointed at the scar with his other hand. “I thought she’d be upset with me, but she wasn’t.”

“Then that’s good, right?”

Shouto hummed noncommittally, leaning his head back against the wall. “Yeah. I guess... It was strange to see her. We both cried.” He stared past his nose at Izuku.

A smile ghosted Izuku lips, somehow melancholy. Shouto wondered what was familiar about that story to him. Their eyes met again, if only for a second. “I’m glad you got to see her then. Are you going to visit again?”

“I don’t know.”

Izuku pulled his hand away, finally satisfied with the healed skin. “But I thought it was a good experience?”

Shouto rubbed at his wrist, absent shouting echoing in his mind. “This happened because I visited.” He said abruptly. “My father said she’s insane and it’s a waste of time to see her. Like she might rub off on me or something.”

“You shouldn’t listen to him.” Izuku scoffed. The ferocity of the statement startled him as he continued. “He doesn’t have any room to keep you separated! She’s your mom, it’s a crime that you’ve been without her for ten years now, for something that’s his fault-“

“Why are you so upset about it?” He suddenly interrupted. “It’s not your problem.”

Izuku blinked at him, expression morphing into something almost dumbfounded. “I...I’m upset for you. It’s not fair, that you’ve had to deal with this alone...that you’ve been alone all this time.”

Being alone had never been a bad thing.

It was safety. It meant his father wasn’t there to train with him, that he didn’t have to pretend to ignore the worried looks Fuyumi sent him. It meant he didn’t have to lie and hide his winces and cool his face.

But Izuku said that like it was a curse. Like he was missing out on something, that things should have been different.

He thought of his mother’s sobs at the sight of him, her cold hand in his hair, the frostbite touching his face. The apologies, like it was suppose to be different than this.

“Shouto?” Izuku’s eyebrows were furrowed, something almost like concern written on his face. “Are you okay?”

He nodded slowly, realizing that he had been silent for an uncomfortably long time at this point. “Yeah.” Shouto sighed, pressing back against the wall. “I think I am.”

Chapter Text

Izuku slipped around the corner, ducking behind the bulky, overflowing dumpster sitting against the edge of an apartment building. He nearly put his hand in a rotting take-out box, but noticed it just in time. Izuku wrinkled his nose, focusing on the scene across the street.

He could hear the pair of officers milling around, car doors slamming and staticky conversation through their radios. The sirens that had caught his ear in the first place had been turned off, but red and blue lights still routinely flashed on the concrete wall across from him. He pitied whoever’s window that was up there.

After a moment of pause, he peeked around the dumpster and took a look at the site. He didn’t see any heroes among the collected couple of police, if any showed up at all. There wasn’t anyone besides the two of them, probably just patrol partners who had randomly picked up the call.

This was a blackout ward anyway. Agencies rarely sent hero patrols to this area, much less at one o’clock the morning. If anyone did show up, it’d probably be an underground hero who was less suited for an outright fight or some sidekick who wasn’t high enough in the chain to be taken off the night patrols yet.

His eyes sot out the building before them; a bank. The intruder must have tripped some silent alarm because besides the stray overnight lights, the building looked untouched. Izuku chewed on his lip, glancing between the police and the bank.

They could be waiting here all night for someone to come out. He wondered if there was a patrol car sitting on the next street over, patiently watching the back exit. Probably not. It was late and likely a scarce shift. There wouldn’t be any backup unless the situation became more dangerous than a stakeout and a silent alarm. No bank security either, apparently.

However, as Izuku began to debate going inside the bank himself, a flash of violet blinded him. Seemingly, their intruder was too impatient to bide their time for a safe escape.

The light was cast across the street and car in double beams. Izuku almost fell into the road in his attempt to shield himself, crushing that old take-out box. The teenager crouched, squeezing his eyes shut until he heard the shattering of glass.

A violent scream.

His body chilled, tensing as he listened to the miserable wail. One of the police officers, from the direction it was coming from. The light quirk user or, maybe, an accomplice that attacked when they were blinded.

The light on his eyelids faded with the sound of fast, heavy footsteps in the opposite direction. Only one set. Izuku opened his eyes, taking a chance to peek around the dumpster. He wiped the moldy noodles on his jeans.

The police car was facing away from him, but he could see the edge of someone on the ground, writhing and moaning with their hands digging into their eyes. The other officer, a woman with dark hair, had given up the chase, gun discarded as she tried to calm her partner.

Izuku activated the sensory quirk, only to feel a person just barely slip out of his range. That was all he needed. He stood and bolted in that direction. The policewoman was too busy with her screaming colleague to notice him.

The roads ran parallel here for another three blocks until they diverged into different directions. He had no idea where the runner was heading beyond that crossroads, but if he could head them off there then it wouldn’t matter. Izuku kept the sensory quirk active, feeling the stranger pushing at the edge of his mind every once in a while. He used an endurance quirk to push himself faster, veins burning red.

The street lights merged, spreading into a main road. There were a few cars idling across the street for the colors to change.

They were still running ahead, Izuku stumbled out into the open corner. He spun around a few times, dizzily searching for that pinprick on the edge of his senses.

Nothing...there was nothing.

The asphalt turned a murky green. The cars accelerated.

They couldn’t have disappeared. They were just right there. Izuku halted, scanning the shadows of closed stores frantically once over.

Across the street, past the speeding cars, something emerged from the darkness. There it was.

Izuku took a sudden breath, blinking out of space.

He teleported into a spot in the air, a couple feet above his head before gravity crashed him to the ground.

The man yelped, something cracking painfully under the force. Izuku reached for his face, his wrists, anything would work.

Skin-contact. He just needed one finger on his skin.

He writhed around, twisting to shove his hands in Izuku’s face. The heel of his hand slammed into his nose. Something thick filled his nostrils and Izuku coughed, sucking in a breath.

There was a split second of pause when the skin of his palms split open with a sick tearing noise. Izuku didn’t have any time to react before a high-pitched whine filled his wars.

The scalding purple light burst out of the slices of skin. Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, a wheezing croak escaping him as he ducked to hide under the fabric of his hood. Painful tears burned his cheeks.

Between the burnin in his senses and high-pitched whine in his ear, it was nauseating. Izuku struggled to think straight, trying to remember what he had been doing in the first place .

He just wanted it to stop. He needed it to stop.

Not fire, it couldn’t be. He panted, hands clawing at the concrete. Izuku had been burned before. This wasn’t quite the same.

He distantly remember to reach for his hands. Something like a quirk tugged at his blinded mind. Skin-contact. He needed skin-contact to take this feeling away.

Light, burning, targeted victims eyes more-so than direct skin. Izuku didn’t know exactly what the quirk was, but it didn’t matter. A decent guess would be enough to take it.

Before he could, the man threw him aside. The noise and pain subsided barely. He rushed in the direction of the road. Izuku let out a strangled gasp, eyes still screwed shut. Something thicker mixed with his tears, seeping further down his face. He heard a car honked offendedly at the runner while the ringing in his head calmed.

The teenager gritted his teeth. He stumbled to his feet, ignoring his lack of sight and taking off in the vague direction he heard the car.

That bubbly regeneration quirk reared it’s head automatically; an old quirk that had been with him for as long as Izuku could remember. His sight cleared into something slightly less painful and more like he had just stared at the sun for a long time. White spots filled the spaces between Izuku and the man as he ran.

Dazed, he chased him down the road, through another lane of late night traffic. Echoes of footsteps surrounded him. He couldn’t tell whether they were in front or behind him. Everything was too warped to make any sense of it.

Izuku saw the edge of the blinding man disappear down another street. He turned after him, teleporting again.

The teenager landed abruptly to his left. It wasn’t quite a good landing, but it didn’t matter as Izuku pivoted and tackled the man to the ground without hesitation. He cursed, shoving him away frantically.

He tried to twist around again in his hold, but Izuku wasn’t that stupid. He slammed one palm into the concrete with both his hands, using the telekinetic quirk to shove down the other one.

For a second, he allowed himself to pause, breathing heavily. The world buzzed.

Then it ruptured.

“S-Stop!” Someone announced. Izuku hesitated slightly, jerking his attention from the man to the edge of the sidewalk.

The dark-haired policewoman was wearily pointing a gun at his face. Her grip wobbled like she couldn’t decide which one of them she should prioritize. When she blinked, her eyelids were vertical, reminding him of a skittish lizard.

He furrowed his eyebrows, mouth half open to yell at her for abandoning her hurt partner.

Instead, Izuku was thrown aside, again. The teenager fell backwards as the runner shoved himself upwards. His hand ripped from the concrete, sweeping in the air toward the police officer. The nauseating whining frequency returned.

She wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger. Izuku saw it written plainly on her face; a defeated, terrified expression.

Another person scarred by a single quirk. Another person possibly permanently blinded. Another person possibly dead.

This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let it happen.

The squelching of his palm ripping open. Gravel dug into Izuku’s knees as he launched himself toward the man.

No, no, no- “Don’t!”

His fingers met greasy hair and Izuku dug his nails into his scalp, ripping his quirk away. There was a stuttering flash of violet, but it vanished in another second.

The man crashed. A cut-off scream escaped him as he slumped forward. Izuku felt something warm seeping underneath his fingernails, mixing with slimy old soy sauce.

The woman raised her head, arms falling from where she had been cowering. The gun laid uselessly at her feet. Her eyes grew wide, darting between Izuku and the man.

The teenager let out a relieved gasp. She was fine, he got it in time. No one else would be hurt tonight, not here, not because of him. His shoulders slumped, tilting back his head to look at the dark sky.

Then the woman moved again. His attention jerked toward her. She dropped to the ground, grasping the forgotten gun again. A determined air had taken control of her as she aimed again.

“Wait-“ Izuku yelped, suddenly panicked.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He held out his hand for her, but she was too far away. Taking her quirk wouldn’t fix the gun in her hand, finger on the trigger. Izuku scrambled toward the man, muttering frantically to get up, to move. Breathing suddenly felt so difficult, more Iike strangled heaves.

He should have known to be gentler. He shouldn’t have taken it like that. Tears stung at the healing corners of his eyes.

The man drooled into Izuku’s arm. There was a pained noise and Izuku almost wanted to return the quirk, if only to get him out of this stunned, dazed state and out of the range of the gun.

“He’s quirkless!” Izuku screamed frantically, switching tactics again. His head whipped toward her. “He can’t-“

Something warm splattered on his face. The rest of his argument died in his throat.

The gunshot shocked them both, trapped in his mind like an echo. His eyes grew wide, rapidly blinking the scarlet from his vision. It dripped down his temple.

There was a scream coming from somewhere. Izuku didn’t know who it belonged to.

He slowly lowered his eyes. A stuttering breath.

There was a gaping hole in the man’s shoulder. Thick scarlet gushed from the torn skin. His shirt turned a murky brown.

The bullet was a black lump beside Izuku’s foot. A chunk of bloody skin tissue fell onto his leg.

Izuku’s hands were shaking.

He knew he should move. He should teleport them. He should give back the quirk. He should use any of the other ones he had.

The click of the pistol distracted him. His head jerked up, meeting the woman’s gaze again. She knew.

A wheeze escaped the man, miserably clutching at his wound. The blood pooled at his knees. It stickly cling to Izuku’s clothes.

His body moved on its own. She aimed again at Izuku. She knew. The metal manipulation quirk pushed itself stubbornly to the front of his mind as another gunshot lit up his vision.

It should have hit him fatally, but instead his thigh lit up like a fire. Just a graze. He’d be fine.

Izuku rushed her, grabbing onto the burning barrel and ripping it from her hands in a flash of green. His fingertips sizzled when it flew into his hands, but he ignored it. She knew.

The police officer stumbled backwards. She jerked her head frantically toward the street, then back at Izuku.

He stalked toward her, warm liquid dripping down his clothes. He could feel his skin knitting itself back together with another regeneration quirk. Something that was probably a piece of his flesh squished as it hit the asphalt.

She knew. She knew he was quirkless and she shot him anyway. She knew he couldn’t fight back and she shot him anyway. She could have shot Izuku, she could have aimed for him instead, but she didn’t. She kept looking toward the open street, like it was some type of escape she didn’t dare attempt.

Something like fear finally filled her eyes. They flickered rapidly toward his bloody, hidden face, the way his limp faded in minutes, the gun still smoking in his hand, the metal imprinted on his fingers.

A prey; cornered. A lizard faced with a house cat.

Finally, Izuku’s head cleared slightly and he realized why he didn’t have her sole attention. Sirens bounced off the buildings in the distance. Her backup was almost here.

Izuku glanced toward the man. He seemed enraptured with poking his finger through his wound, as if the pain wasn’t enough to prove that it was real. His entire torso was stained scarlet with lumps of skin and muscle splattered on the concrete where Izuku had been sitting.

There was a sick squish as he pulled back his bloody hand, turning it over like he expected his palm to open up again. Maybe he was looking for the bullet in the wound, or he was so delirious he didn’t know what he was doing anymore.

The sirens grew closer. Izuku’s fingers twitched toward the man; he wanted to give back the quirk. He saw a flash of blue in the corner of his eye.

Izuku moved toward him, ignoring the woman. She didn’t deserve his time anyway. Footsteps and shouts were suddenly very close.

He stretched toward the man and there was a scream from behind him. The teenager grunted, suddenly tackled to the ground. His head slammed into the asphalt. He felt hands reaching for the gun in his hand.

Izuku had enough sense to bring up his head, connecting with the woman’s. An animalistic cry escaped her. Izuku tried to reach for him again, but the ball of her hand connected with Izuku’s jaw. He bit back the numbing pain, more copper flooding into his mouth as he clinching his teeth painfully.

He gripped the gun tighter, swinging and slamming the grip into her temple. She finally fell, crashing to the ground at his side. Izuku dizzily sat up, street spinning.

They were getting closer. He could feel the sensory quirk screaming at him. Izuku crawled over the discarded police officer, hand outstretched for the man. His head was hanging backwards, mesmerized with the bloody sky.

“Freeze!”

“Don’t make another move!”

Izuku didn’t get any other warnings before they were shooting at him again.

He couldn’t deflect them all.

He couldn’t get caught. He couldn’t endanger his parents like that. A frustrated sob rose from his throat.

He couldn’t stay anymore. Annoying tears poured from his eyes.

All he wanted was to give back the quirk.

The teleportation quirk hummed happily as he activated it.

Izuku sat on a bridge. His legs swung lazily over the edge, black water rushing below him.

Once upon a time, it might have reminded him of following around a certain blond. Now, it just was a means to an ends.

He could still see red and blue lighting up the sky in the direction of the bank chase. Tomorrow, he might see their names in the news. Maybe Dad would ask if the mystery villain involved was Izuku.

The gun was ripped into pieces with a combination of the telekinesis and metal manipulation quirks. He took a long time inspecting the pieces before he threw them as hard as he could into the distance. Izuku watched each one of them splash and sink into the river.

His clothes were damp, green and red mixing into a gross brown color. At least they weren’t warm anymore, chilling him to the bone and sticking to his skin. The metallic taste lingered in his saliva. His face was probably more blood splatters than freckles, tear tracks forming rivers down his cheeks. He rubbed at his throbbing nose, staring miserably at the sticky liquid on his sleeve.

Izuku looked down at the last piece in his other hand. The lonely trigger reflected the moonlight into his cleared eyes. That man’s blood mixed with ash and dirt under his broken fingernails.

Sometimes the night went great.

He would find a fascinating quirk. He would have a nice conversation with Shouto. He would save someone from being robbed. He would draw a small smile from Shouto. He would stop a hero from beating someone into the ground. He would save a life.

But sometimes it went more like this.

A police investigation. Forced to wash his bloody clothes in a river so he didn’t have to face his parents and their worries. Three injured people. About to throw up from over using his regeneration quirks. A quirk that just made him feel guilty.

Chapter Text

Shouto never thought much about friends.

From a very young age, it was drilled into him that he did not need them. He never understood the appeal. Besides, after his scar, everyone else stopped trying, so he did, too. They were scared of him, intimidated, or maybe even disgusted. Shouto never cared to figure out the reason. By the time middle school had rolled around, most of the school had learned to avoid him for one reason or another and he was fine with that.

Well, he thought he was.

Then Izuku quite abruptly crashed into his life and turned everything he had thought he understood on its head. Suddenly, Shouto found himself spending far too long wondering about the other boy, dare he say his friend.

Izuku was a walking anomaly.

He was short and small, but strangely lithe and powerful when he fought. The way he moved was calculated; Shouto couldn’t help to wonder if he had been trained by someone, but Izuku never offered that information.

However, the second the fight was over, offender subdued, Izuku would somehow find a way to trip over his own comically bright high-tops. Shouto didn’t have enough fingers to count how many times he had rushed over to catch him before he face-planted into the concrete.

He was stunningly smart, able to simply look at a quirk and break it down to its bare essentials. When Shouto commented about the quirk analysis, Izuku always blushed, waving him away and muttering that it was just a hobby he and his father shared.

His mumbling was usually so fast and unrecognizable, Shouto couldn’t follow it very far after the first few sentences. Despite that, he welcomed everything he said, listening the best he could. He wasn’t great at conversation, he always seemed to say the wrong thing, but he could listen and Izuku seemed content with the little he offered.

He was awkward in a way that made him think he was just as inexperienced with people his age as Shouto was. Shouto was specifically confused by that. Izuku, while clumsy and socially-awkward, was wonderful. He was smart, skilled, and interesting. That seemed like a decent combination to him, nothing like his own cold and aloof personality that scared away his classmates. Shouto couldn’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t easily be drawn in by Izuku.

Sometimes he felt like more like a moth, lingering around the light that was Izuku.

He certainly didn’t deserve him. He didn’t deserve someone so kind as a friend. For some strange reason, though, Izuku had picked him. Shouto knew he’d take advantage of that as long as the other could stand him.

Every time he slipped out his window, hopped over the fence, he would wonder if it would be his last, that he’d spend his night wandering around alone. Yet, every time Izuku found him with a smile on his face and happy words falling from his mouth.

Before he knew it, another month had passed of random nights spent talking or wandering the city. The weather took on a warmer personality. Sometimes he followed Izuku along his vigilante patrols, helping a little, but he rarely needed to. Sometimes they teleported around with his quirk, the tops of unreachable buildings and to strange areas of town. He never really cared what they did anyway.

Quickly, that month turned to two, then three and Shouto realized it had already been nearly four since he had first met Izuku on that cold night.

“How long have you known me?” He found himself asking abruptly, glancing to his right.

Izuku looked back at him, probably puzzled, but his hood hid his face as they walked. “Three months and a week and a half-ish. Why?”

Shouto blinked back, pausing to try to count the days in his head with a furrowed expression. His silence must have been unsettling because he could hear Izuku’s panicked tone when he spoke again. “That’s weird, s-sorry, I just count weeks and days a lot, I prom-“

“It’s not weird, I was thinking it was about that long.” He answered before he could begin spiraling into a mumbled apology. “I asked because I was curious.” Shouto reminded.

“Oh, uh...okay.” The shorter boy answered quietly.

It had been an uneventful night, for the most part, probably somewhere closer to the early morning at this hour. Shouto gazed at him, debating silently. His eyes flitted upward. Then, he spotted a quaint convenience store over his head and began tugging him that direction.

“Come on, let’s get a snack.” The taller boy decided spontaneously. Something like an amused laugh bubbled out of Izuku.

“Do you even have money?” He hummed curiously, following along without a second thought.

“My father makes a lot of money.” Shouto reassured. “I’ve got one of his credit cards.” He didn’t ever bring his phone, but he had gotten in the habit of grabbing a few items, like money and first aid, before he snuck out now.

The bell overhead announced their entrance. The cashier was a young woman with purple hair and dragonfly wings that didn’t even glance up from her magazine at the sound. Izuku sighed fondly, grabbing his arm and taking the lead. He pulled him down one of the aisles gently.

“You can’t use a credit card, wouldn’t he notice the payment made when you were supposed to be sleeping?” The shorter boy pointed out while Shouto scanned the shelf.

He frowned, thinking it over in his head. “I guess you’re right, nevermind then.”

“You can still get something; I’ll pay.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Your dad isn’t the only one who makes a lot of money.” Izuku returned with an amused tone. Shouto imagined the smile on his face. “It’s no big deal.” He grabbed a small bag of trail mix and paused, clearing waiting for him to pick something.

Shouto debated on asking what, exactly, Izuku’s father did as a job to make a lot of money, but decided against it. For all the things he had learned from growing closer to the boy, Izuku’s family details were still a mystery. Anytime he asked he got half-answers and subject-changes. He wasn’t sure why it had to be a secret, but he respected him enough to not pry about it, yet.

Mentally, he made a note to get cash from his father’s card and pay him back eventually, then he picked out an unhealthy candy bar and followed him to the check-out counter. The cashier looked bored, scanning their items and pressing buttons on her screen.

Izuku made a little exhale noise while they waited. “You like that sweet kind of stuff?”

“My father never lets me eat that kind of thing. I’ve developed a sweet tooth out of spite.” He answered with a shrug.

“Your total is six-fifty yen.” The cashier interrupted them and Izuku began digging in his pockets.

He fished out a few bills and grabbed their items. “Thank you!” He called happily, tugging Shouto out the store. They were halfway down the road before the taller teenager heard the distinct sound of Izuku muttering again.

“What did you say?” He asked, startling him.

Immediately, Izuku tugged on his hood, clearly embarrassed at being caught. “N-Nothing really! I was just thinking about her quirk, do you think she’s got more abilities than just the wings in that it’s a full-animal-body mutation or just the wings?”

“Probably just the wings.” Shouto hummed, taking another bite of the candy bar. It was a sickly sweet combination of chocolate, caramel, and wafer. “She didn’t look very insect-ish.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too! Although, you have to wonder if she can even fly, with the weight of her body and the proportions of the wings, they might not be strong enough, you know, that’s why most bird mutations have also developed hollow bones like actual birds so they can support their weight in flight. I imagine it still takes endurance, probably just like training to run faster and stuff, you know I knew someone in elementary school who had a robin mutation.” Izuku paused, taking a deep breath.

“We could go back and ask her, if you’d like.” Shouto suggested, although he could guess his answer.

Izuku jumped, immediately shaking his head. “No! She’d think I’m weird!”

“You’re not weird, it’s a legitimate question.”

“You’re just nice.”

“No one besides you would call me nice.”

“You are!” Izuku insisted.

Shouto felt a small smile tugging at his lips as he rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Anyway, you’re not weird, you’re very interesting to listen to.”

He heard Izuku groan, hands rubbing at his face. “S-Stop, Shou, you’re making me blush!”

Despite his tone, Shouto didn’t really think that was a bad thing.

Tonight, Izuku chose to walk Shouto home. They hadn’t run into many incidents, not like other nights. He really didn’t need him to, but Izuku seemed to want to out of company, not because he needed the protection. The taller teenager ended up allowing it eventually.

They were halfway there, Izuku in the middle of telling a story about homeschooling, when a flash in the corner of his eye distracted him. For a moment, Shouto thought it was his imagination until he heard the echo of footsteps and was calling for his quirk.

Before he could create anything, however, before Izuku was shoving him aside. One of the streetlights creaked and curled down before them in a way that seemed somewhat familiar. Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted around them. Izuku paused, hand outstretched before Shouto as he staring down their new friend.

Shouto narrowed his eyes as the air grew colder. He internally scolded himself for not noticing the stranger approach them. He was distracted, enjoying having someone so wonderful around, hanging on every word he said.

Izuku was strangely distracting.

He looked toward the bullets’ origin, scowling. The teenager found a woman with tangled hair and a faint line that sliced her forehead in half. She raised the gun again, face twisting into a wicked smile. It was aimed at Izuku.

“I found you, thief.” She declared proudly, pulling the trigger again.

Shouto felt his stomach drop, realizing that he wasn’t close enough to create a thick enough ice wall to protect him. Before he could really think about the implications of his actions, Shouto found himself activating his quirk and slamming his foot down in her direction.

The words had barely left her mouth before she shrieked, a burst of fire forcing her backwards. Her arm was thrown upward and the gun fired into the sky.

He straightened at Izuku’s side and glared at the woman. He had to assume that statement hadn’t been meant for him, but nonetheless, she was attacking his friend. He wasn’t going to just stand by and let it happen. His left hand sliced the air, flames cleared.

“You used your fire!” He heard Izuku utter excitedly. Shouto tried to not blush at the statement. Thankfully, they were both distracted by the woman’s growl, aiming the gun again.

Shouto threw out his right hand, ice shooting up as a shield. Izuku reached forward, the green energy from before returned. Ice shattered as the gun soared toward the makeshift wall and into Izuku’s outstretched hand.

“What the-“ The woman exclaimed. “You fucking bastard!”

“You’re the one trying to shoot us.” Shouto deadpanned. She didn’t seem to enjoy that comment, bolting toward him.

Izuku grabbed his arm and they teleported behind her. “Run!” He exclaimed, falling into a defensive position.

The other teenager frowned. He hadn’t really just told Shouto to run, then turned to take her on alone.

Shouto defiantly stayed put. “I’m not leaving-“

“I can handle it, she’s after me!”

“You don’t have to fight her alone!” He argued, clinching his fists.

They didn’t have time to discuss it any further with the woman twisting around and running toward them again. She reached for the gun, but Izuku sidestepped, tossing the gun away so his hands were open.

She ducked under him. Her pattern reminded Shouto of a bull, shoving her face toward his. He wanted to help, but Izuku moved too quickly around her and he wouldn’t dare risk hurting him. Something like frustration boiled in him.

A high-pitched whine filled the air, resonating from their direction. Shouto winced at the noise, moving to cover his ears. The sound of skin ripping filled the space between them.

Izuku gasped, suddenly switching his movements to force his hand toward her face. “Shut your eyes!” He shouted frantically.

“What?“ Shouto called, dizzily. He held his hands tighter on the sides of his head as the noise grew louder.

He jerked his head toward Shouto, hood nearly falling with the movement. The other only got a flash of his face, eyes squeezed shut and tears glistening. Shut his-

The street lit up in purple light, spreading outward from the woman’s forehead. He grunted, arms shifting to hug his face. If he wasn’t wearing long sleeves, surely his skin would be burning. The light turned white on the edges as Shouto curled further in on himself, crashing to his knees.

Beyond the stifling frequency and buzzing in his head, he could still hear Izuku struggling with the woman. Shouto wanted to move, he should help him.

A breathy whine escaped as he heard a thump, a shriek from the woman as something cracked. His hands tugged on his hair, sparks flying.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was cowering like a child just because of some burning sensation. Izuku could be hurt. He was fighting all on his own. Shouto gritted his teeth, clinching his fists.

Then everything vanished with a scream.

He opened his eyes, arms falling to his sides. There were parts of his hands and face that flashed bitterly, but Shouto shoved the feeling aside.

Izuku’s hand remained firmly pressed to her forehead, fingers spread through her hair. He paused for a moment, breathing heavily, before he released his hold on her face. In an instant, she stiffened and dropped to the ground. Blood poured messily down her face, dripping onto on the concrete. Her nose might be broken, he vaguely remembered hearing something break.

Shouto watched, dumbfounded, as she rubbed furiously at her face. Her gloved hands clawed into her forehead. That thin line of a scar from before was gone.

Her eyes were wide and full of tears; horrified.

She patted frantically at her head, choked noises bubbling up from her throat. She didn’t seem to care that she was bleeding or just sitting dumbly in the middle of the sidewalk. Shouto climbed to his feet again, standing aside wearily. He felt like a bystander, watching the scene with mild confusion.

Izuku borrowed her quirk, he guessed. Shouto wasn’t sure how, exactly, his quirk worked. For someone so fascinated with all quirks, Izuku never offered much information about his own. Even so, her reaction still didn’t seem quite right. He wondered vaguely if there was some sort of history he was missing.

“I-I thought you were one of those gang, drug p-people-“ She hyperventilated, crawling backwards. “-the ones with the bullet- the quirk-e-erasing- that’s what h-he said. That’s what- Y-You just fucking took it-“

Shouto couldn’t read his expression, with the hood over his face and his stiff posture as he looked down at the woman. His voice was low and strained when he spoke. “I’m sorry.“

She stared up at him like he was some type of horrid murderer, rather than just a teenage boy. Although, Shouto supposed she didn’t know that. She suddenly seemed so scared, stumbling over her words and crawling backwards on the concrete.

“You’re h-him, that old villain, fuck, aren’t you? T-The one who could steal q-quirks-” The woman continued, her gaze turning more terrified. Shouto didn’t miss how Izuku grew a little stiffer, clinching his fists. Quickly, she was tripping over herself trying to escape him. “Y-You-“

“What’s she talking about?” Shouto asked, looking at his friend for any type of explanation. He took a step closer to them.

The shorter boy shrugged nervously. “I don’t know-“ He sounded genuine in Shouto’s ears.

“Liar!” The woman shrieked. “Y-You’re All for One- They s-said he was dead, oh- f-fuck-“ She was outright sobbing now, frantically rubbing the line where her scar used to be. “D-Don’t kill me, d-don’t-” Shouto almost felt bad for her, as confused as he was.

On the other hand, Izuku visibly stiffened. “W-Wait-“

He reached for her, only for her to start screaming even louder. “He’s alive! A-All for One is ali-“

In the blink of an eye, Izuku rushed forward and grabbed her. In another, she slumped to the ground, unmoving. The echo of her words surrounded them before it faded to memory.

Shouto stared with wide eyes at the scene. He watched the blood pooling from her nose, somewhere in between stunned, confused, and sick. Strained silence stretched between them. Nothing besides Izuku’s frozen posture and the woman before them even indicated anything had happened.

Shouto trusted Izuku with his life. He knew that.

“Is she dead?” He found himself asking.

Izuku shook his head weakly. “N-No, I just knocked her out with a static quirk. It was the first thing I thought of.” He added quietly, kneeling beside her.

He pressed another hand to the unconscious woman and, like someone was holding a skin colored marker, her scar was redrawn down her forehead. It may have been his imagination, but he thought the shorter boy’s hand was shaking as he pulled away.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently as Izuku walked up to him.

“I’m fine.”

“What was she talking about?”

“She was just confused, t-thought I was someone else.” Izuku said firmly, although his tone betrayed something in his emotions.

“Who’s All for One?” Shouto couldn’t recall ever hearing the name, as terrified as the woman sounded of him. She said a villain, but even as the son of a major hero, he didn’t recognize it at all.

Izuku looked awkward, turning his head away. He paused, staring into the distance like he was going to answer the question. Then, he didn’t. “We should get you home before police show up, she did a lot of screaming.” He said instead.

The taller teenager quietly agreed. He melted his remaining ice while Izuku removed his fingerprints from her and the gun, setting the weapon by her twitching hand.

Then they began walking back toward his house. They hadn’t gone very far before Shouto’s curiosity got the better of him again.

“Who’s All for One?” He repeated.

“He’s a myth.”

“She sounded pretty scared of a myth.” He noted. “A villain?”

“He, uh, was. He was a villain from the beginning of quirks. Too old to even be alive, if he even was to begin with. H-He’s just a combination of old tall-tales and, um, bedtime stories and stuff that people tell to scare their kids.“ Izuku answered awkwardly, picking at his fingernails while they walked. “He apparently had the ability to- to, uh, give and take quirks. I’ve heard some of the stories about him, you know, being out around v-villains, but he’s not real, obviously. It’s crazy- that kind of power, obviously fake, you know-“ Izuku fell off into his rambling, clearly anxious.

“Hm.” Shouto returned, silencing him. He glanced over at the shorter boy and his shaky demeanor. “Strange.”

“Y-Yeah, people come up with crazy stories, haha.” Izuku agreed weakly.

They had reached the entrance of his neighborhood and Shouto paused in front of him. He waited, looking down the street, then back at him. Izuku looked awkward, staring at the ground and fiddling with his fingers.

“I’m sorry she said that to you.”

“H-Huh?” His head snapped up so quickly his hood nearly fell.

He tugged it up quickly, glancing wearily behind him as Shouto clarified. “I’m sorry that woman compared you to a villain. You’re not. You’re very nice and you’ve helped a lot of people, including me.”

“Oh.” Izuku hesitated, something breathy and almost strangled about his voice. “T-Thanks, Shouto.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Izuku.”

Chapter Text

“If we’re going to have a student in there, we need to move now- No, it has to be one of the hero classes. We know Yuuei holds them at a higher standard.” Dad’s conversation carried out into the hallway. Izuku hesitated outside the cracked door. He knew he would be talking that loudly if he really minded them overhearing him, but it still felt like eavesdropping.

The door to his office was half open, revealing only his father inside at the mahogany desk. He was clearly on the phone, likely a work issue that was irritating him, from the way he ran his hand through his pale curls. If he focused, he could hear the faint chatter on the other end, but there wasn’t a point. Izuku likely wouldn’t know them. There were very few of Dad’s allies that he knew and actually recognized him in turn.

“No, no, that quirk would never pass the practical exam. You said the girl from Osaka? She’s not old enough to even apply.” He scoffed, nearly rolling his eyes. Izuku finally gathered the courage to push open the door wider. “Fifteen, applicants have to be fifteen, you understand that, don’t you?”

“H-Hey, um...” Izuku began suddenly, lingering in the entrance.

Dad looked up with raised eyebrows. He had probably sensed him standing there a good five minutes ago; a rare occurrence. Izuku usually tried to not bother him when he was working, but he couldn’t keep it quiet anymore. He had to say something or else he’d drive himself insane, and he didn’t dare worry his mother.

Last night had been a mess.

“Give me a minute.” He said stiffly into the phone, then glanced back at Izuku. A small smile crossed his face. “What do you need?” Dad asked in a kinder tone.

Izuku’s nerves flared like a house on fire. “It’s a, uh, it’s n-not a big deal, it can wait...if you’re busy.” The teenager panicked. He nearly hoping he’d say yes and Izuku could go back to hiding in his room and overthinking every word that woman had said last night.

It wouldn’t be beneficial for anyone, but at least he could wallow in his own mistakes a little longer without Dad’s disappointment on top of him, too.

He really hoped Shouto had already forgotten about everything. He hoped for his sake that Shouto didn’t ever bring last night ever again. Izuku didn’t have any memory-altering quirks, nor did he want to resort to that. That was too far over the line. He didn’t ever want to betray the other’s trust like that, but he supposed it’d be better than a dead Shouto.

Dad muted his phone and his smile widened. “Izuku, I’m never too busy for you.”

He blushed at that statement, shuffling inside his office awkwardly as Dad spoke curtly again into the speaker. “Find me someone who can pass that exam; the right age, this time. Don’t bother calling me again until you do.” He said firmly in a voice the reserved for work. Then, his father proceeded to abruptly hang up and set the phone aside alone with the others.

There were somewhere around five or six different phones sitting in a pile on the desk. Izuku knew they were all for different purposes, different people; the stray extra to throw off trails. He absentmindedly wondered how Dad kept up with them all. Izuku really only cared about the personal phone, filled with only two contacts, that never left Dad’s side.

“What was that about?” He asked, fishing for a distraction. Izuku’s palms felt sweaty. He claimed the chair across from him, like this was a doctor’s appointment, and wiped his hands on his shorts.

“Yuuei’s Heroics Exam is coming up in a few months, I’m hoping to plant someone in the next class. It would greatly help to have that sort of information.” He explained with an almost tired sigh, moving aside a stack of papers. “There was a last-minute issue with our main candidate, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Y-Yeah, okay.” Izuku awkwardly agreed.

A beat of silence passed between them before his father spoke again. “What’s bothering you?” Dad asked, giving him his full attention. Izuku shrunk in the chair across from him, picking at his calloused fingers. “I noticed you were quiet at breakfast.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it again, debating the best phrasing. To distract his racing mind, he avoided his father’s gaze. Guilt filled him; he was just wasting his time with silence.

Dad’s office wasn’t much to look at. There was the desk and a couple of chairs in the middle of the quaint room. There were no windows, like the rest of their underground apartment. A table sat against the furthest wall, covered with a few different laptops and files, in addition to the desktop currently sitting before his father. Both cluttered and half-filled bookshelves stood behind him, decorated with a collection of very old records, quirk evolution or analysis books, and other random books Izuku didn’t really know much about.

Two picture frames faced his father, both probably bought at the same time, but their contents were separated by a good two centuries. One, Izuku knew, was of him and his parents, taken somewhere around the end of elementary school. He didn’t actually remember taking the photo, but it was one of the few that survived their apartment’s explosion.

The second picture was much older, a creased, torn photo stuck in the frame. Like the other, it was a survivor, depicting his father and a dead man.

Dad cherished it, along with the vintage, yellowed comic books sitting in a box somewhere. As a child, Izuku had been fond of staring at it, curiously inspecting the uncle he never knew and his father rarely mentioned. Izuku knew most of the story by now, but he remembered always being confused how Dad could love him brother so much and never talk about him.

“Izuku.” His gentle voice interrupted his distraction, reminding him of the task at hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone thought I was you.”

Dad furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not expecting that answer. “What?”

The teenager shakily leaned forward, pressing his restless hands to the desk. There was no point in stopping himself. The story spilled out.

“I didn’t think about it, it was stupid, I know, I should have waited, I should have been more patient- but she must have known someone I’ve handled before. I recognized her quirk, it was familiar. S-She tracked me down, I guess.” Izuku continued, quickly picking up speed as his anxiety worsened. “She- She had a gun and she called me a thief at first, which was weird but I wasn’t thinking, and she attacked me out of nowhere and I-I just did what I usually do, y-you know? I just defended myself and- and then her face was right there and I just took her quirk, because I thought the shock might knock her out and-“

“Izuku. Breathe.” A hand over his startled him into pausing, glancing down as he took a deep breath. Izuku could feel the quirks lying in wait under his skin; too many to count.

If he already knew the rest of the story, if he knew Izuku was purposely leaving out the existence of Todoroki Shouto, Dad didn’t show it. He didn’t press him to continue, patiently waiting for him to calm down.

His heartbeat stuttered. Izuku hesitated before he panickedly muttered the last part. The worst part.

“T-Then she called me All for One and I knocked her out.”

Izuku searched his father’s face frantically, looking for something, anything, that gave him an idea on how he felt. He prided himself on being observant, able to read people easily after he had spent so long alone, always on edge searching for some type of threat. Dad was still, persistently, one of the few that Izuku couldn’t always read and now wasn’t any different. He hid his emotions well, probably due to his two centuries of practice with people far more threatening than his teenage son.

Dad rarely got angry around him, usually it was just when Izuku got hurt or did something reckless and that was always just worry hiding behind frustration. It was never real. It was usually only work that managed to anger him, as well as various heroes.

“I’m sorry.” Izuku gasped after several minutes of strangling silence. “I’m really sorry.”

That seemed to snap out of his thoughts, the former villain looking back at him in surprise as if he was just reminded he was still there in front of him. “It’s not your fault. Of course someone would eventually put something together. We have the same quirk.”

“It’s...not?” He echoed, shocked.

Dad shook his head, smiling somewhat enduringly at his worry. “No, it’s more mine than anything. I didn’t think there was anyone who still remembered me from those days alive to spread those rumors.” Izuku wasn’t sure if they were still rumors if they were true, but he didn’t feel the need to correct him.

“Oh.”

“The woman, did you took her quirk?”

“Yeah, I gave it back, though.” Izuku answered. Stress slowly seeped out of him as he sorted out his father’s reaction. “I figured she might wake up and, I don’t know, think she got confused or something. To throw her off, I guess, either that it wasn’t actually me or assume my quirk was an eraser or borrower or something else.”

“Hm.” Dad returned thoughtfully. “Did she say anything else? She must have some decent underground friends if she knew of me.” Izuku wondered if that meant a few underground friends would disappear in the near future.

He paused, replaying the mostly one-sided conversation in his head again. “Yeah...actually, she did. She said she thought I had some type of gang quirk-erasing drug. Something to do with bullets.”

“A quirk-erasing drug?” His father repeated, muttering it a few more times to himself as he flipped through his papers. “That’s strange, nothing like that exists, nothing permanent, at least.”

“Nothing permanent? I mean, there's suppressants, but those only work on emitter and transformation quirks. Mutation quirks can’t be weakened like that, since they‘re literally built into the body.” Izuku clarified. "Right?"

Dad shrugged, reading through a page. “Not exactly. I’ve been getting reports of several new drugs surfacing from some old yakuza contacts. It apparently can suppress any type of quirk, mutations included.” He paused with the paper in hand, eyes flickering to meet his. “Do you really want to know?”

Izuku nearly rolled his eyes. Of course he did, he wouldn’t have asked otherwise. Dad always made sure to clarify first, despite what Izuku always said. “Yes, I want to know.”

His father inspected him for a moment before wordlessly handing over the separated page. Izuku scanned over the piece of paper, a few accounts, experiment reports, and studies of actual human testing, likely whatever dealers got paid to distribute it, described various effects of the drugs.

“This doesn’t make any sense, they’re saying they could have a fully permanent quirk-eraser by this time next year.” He muttered, glancing back at his dad.

“I don’t really understand how they could claim that either. There are plenty of quirk suppressants or even erasing quirks. I’ve tried to get my hands on a few over the years, but there’s only one quirk that has ever been able to permanently remove a quirk and we’re both right here.” He said simply. Dad took back the paper, returning it to one of the many stacks.

“It’s the yakuza, too. I didn’t even know they were still around.” Izuku admitted, recalling the names listed across the page. None he recognized, even after his recent months of vigilantism.

“Some survived by sticking to the underground, but they’re nowhere near what they used to be. The yakuza haven’t been a legitimate organization since I was very young. They didn’t take to the emergence of quirks well.” His father explained.

Izuku hummed in answer, resting his head in his hands and staring at the papers upside down. This information suddenly didn’t sit well with him. Now that he was less worried about being compared to the most dangerous villain in Japanese history, he was busy worrying about how this was even possible. They couldn’t really be able to develop a permanent quirk-erasing drug. If the wrong kind of people, hero or villain, got their hands on that...

“Izuku, I’m sure this is nothing.” Dad gently interrupted his spiral. “The yakuza flares up every few decades, in a year this drug will never happen and it will be old news. There’s no need to stress about it.”

“I’m not stressing that much.” Izuku blushed.

He laughed, leaning over and messing up his hair. “Of course not.”

The teenager flushed harder, sighing and standing up. “I guess that’s it then, if you’re not upset about...the other thing. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Okay, good, great.” He exhaled. “That’s good.”

Izuku headed toward the door, pausing at his voice again. “Are you upset by it?”

“Hm?” He looked back at his father, tilting his head slightly. “By what?”

“Being compared to me, or I suppose, assumed to be me.” Dad returned causally.

Izuku shrugged, playing with the edge of his sleeve. He stopped for a moment as he sorted out his thoughts. “Not r-really...I guess. You’re not like that anymore and she probably didn’t even know what she was talking about anyway.” He relented with a sigh. “Like you said, it was bound to happen.”

Dad nodded, considering. Then he smiled warmly. “Well, I think you’re far too much like your mother to ever be All for One.”

Chapter Text

All for One was a odd name for a villain. Despite what Izuku told him, Shouto found the phrase lingering in his mind as he walked through school the next day. It felt too lengthy for a simple villain, like it was hinting at something further. It was a strange story; why people would ever dream that up was beyond him. It was awfully creative to just be a random tall tale made up to scare children.

The name plagued him for most of the morning, which was probably why he found himself walking into the library after the lunch bell had rung. That itself wasn’t a strange event, Shouto didn’t have many friends and at this point no one cared, or dared, to try and bother him unless they were just ridiculously stubborn. He simply collected his lunch tray and set it down in front of one of the computers in the furthest, quietest back corner. His only company was the librarian at the front desk who kept sending him suspicious looks like she was intimidated by his overall demeanor.

Despite his rational thoughts telling him to stop thinking about something so oddly insignificant, there was no reason to doubt Izuku, Shouto typed the into the search bar.

All for One.

Unceremoniously, he was given little to no legitimate results. Most of the page was filled with links to single parts of the name, rather than its entirety. There were several results in English or from American sites, but Shouto didn’t have the desire to translate those so he ignored them as well. He boredly scrolled for a minute, unimpressed. Shouto returned to the top and tried adding villain after the name. He only got the same sort of answer.

After scanning the several pages of uninteresting, unrelated villains, he was losing out to his rational thoughts. Izuku was right. All for One probably was just a tall-tale people told their children to get them to behave and believe in the hero agenda.

Fleetingly, he added missing quirks on the end of his search terms. Surely, if All for One was really an all-powerful quirk stealing monster like that woman seemed to believe, there would be plenty stories of people’s quirks suddenly missing. Unfortunately, the first results were just as unhelpful as before. With a sigh, he moved on to the next page of results.

Slurping his noodles, his eyes crossed a random social media post on the fifth page of main results, linking the name in full. Shouto paused with a thoughtful hum before he clicked on it, opening up a long forum. He stole a glance at the area around him. He was still alone, even the librarian had left a few minutes ago for her office down the hall.

The dates of all the posts were old, outdated by several years. Nothing had been posted in the past five years at least, most even longer ago than that.

The first couple messages were...strange, to say the least. They all described stories of people’s quirks seemingly vanishing. One talked about how their cousin had been mugged, then suddenly found that their regeneration quirk was no longer working. The next told about a friend who lost their teleportation quirk. Another, oddly, explained a quirkless sibling who suddenly manifested a quirk at the age of thirty-two after getting involved with a drug dealer.

Quirks were like any other mental process or body part. They could be suppressed after trauma or stress. Shouto was beginning to think these comments were all a variety of coincidences and conspiracies, until he came across the comment that actually said the villain’s name. They stated a similar story to Izuku about his abilities and even claimed that he was thought to possess some type of immortality quirk, explaining the many years of incidents and long stretches of missing quirks.

How strange.

A few people pointed out their doubts, causing the original commenter to link to another lengthy forum from another website. This one was even older, full of similar quirk appearing or disappearing stories. Shouto felt like he was looking at a historical page, from the outdated website and messy formatted comments. Most of the stories were all from second-hand sources, but they all claimed similar things and the fictional villain’s name was even mentioned a few more times.

Shouto was about to give it up. The bell would ring soon and, while he liked his wild conspiracy theories, as Izuku laughingly called it, these seemed more like tall-tales and confusion rather than anything concrete.

Then he saw the link.

It was buried in several replies talking about a woman who lost her simplistic telekinesis quirk. It had been seemingly ignored by the others at the time since it didn’t add anything to the original story.

Shouto fleetingly clicked on the link. He was sent to a different website he didn’t recognize, staring at a fuzzy video. It might've been a reupload, since most of the website appeared to be in Korean. He paused it before it could play, digging in his school bag for his earbuds. He untangled the wires and plugged them into the computer, then pressed play again.

The video was blurry and shakily shot, clearly taken on a phone. Ash floated in front of the lens, forcing it to focus and unfocus repeatedly. Shouto thought he saw a bloody hand in the corner of the screen, but the camera jerked in the other direction before it could focus on that.

In the background, he could hear pained screams and sobs, as well as distant sirens. The sky wasn’t blue, but a sad, smokey charcoal color. Despite those far-off noises echoing around the devoid space, it was sickeningly silent. White noise rung in his ears.

The scene seemed to be the aftermath of a massive fight. Smoke rose from the concrete rubble surrounding the several craters imprinted in the ground. Shouto’s eyes flickered between the grey sky and darker destruction. It took several seconds of shaky camera work for the video to focus on anything besides the kilometers of ruin.

Standing among the destruction was a burly silhouette. It took Shouto several seconds to recognize him, but his eyes widened and his mouth parted slightly.

All Might.

He was limping, so heavily covered in scarlet blood that the teenager could hardly make out the colors of the costume he wore. He wasn’t a die-hard fan, but could tell that the costume was one of his older ones. It was ripped and torn, barely hanging onto his battered form.

The hero’s eyes were sunken, skin dirty, bloody, and greasy. He was speaking while he struggled to walk, spitting up more blood in the process, but the phone couldn’t pick up the audio over the distance and wind.

Shouto had never been sensitive to injuries or blood, he couldn’t afford to be in the home he grew up in, but even he felt lightheaded watching the video. To see the hero like that was unsettling, something like a chill crawled over his skin.

All Might looked fragile. He looked like a real human being. rather than the strong, unrelenting hero Shouto always envisioned at the name.

He looked breakable.

He moved his hand to brace himself on a crumpled light post. Where he had been holding his side, a gaping hole made up the part of his torso that his stomach and probably some part of a lung should have been. All Might moved forward after a breath, clutched at it as blood gushed past his fingers. He left a scarlet trail in his wake, turning his skin a mix of gross pink, red, and black.

Shouto had never seen a man look so defeated, yet still determined as he hobbled. Almost like there was something personal on the battlefield, something that drove All Might past his breaking point and fatal injuries. Curiously, Shouto leaned closer to the screen, squinting.

For the first time since it began, he noticed another body lying among the concrete.

The mystery man was dressed in a black suit, with blood and ash colored hair. The camera was too far away to identify him too clearly, but the way his hair curled, the darkness of his eyes, seemed almost familiar in a strange way. He bared his teeth at the hero, choking on thick red and insults.

It was reminiscent of a caged animal, backed into a corner to protect the last of whatever he had left. From the state of their surroundings, it was probably only his life.

All Might finally reached him, clinching his fist as he stood over the man. Shouto noticed something black, or maybe purple, swirling in the background. His eyes flicked toward it, too blurry and far away to give it a name. As the hero raised his fist for the final attack, there was a defiant cry.

In another instant, a woman appeared only to shove herself between the two men. She held out her arms, protecting the mystery man. All Might froze at the sight of her, face twisted in fury and dark hair floating in the smokey breeze.

“Stay away from him!” She screamed, words broken and warped.

Shouto furrowed his eyebrows at the scene, squinting again. It was impossible to tell, but she might have even been crying. Well, it looked like the mystery man was crying, too, so maybe that was just the quality of the video.

“Inko!” He heard the mystery man shout desperately, loud enough to reach the phone’s microphone. Even from this distance, he could recognize the horror on his face.

He said something else, quieter to her. That only seemed to frustrated her further, snapping back to him. Her hands remained raised, even if they were shaking.

All Might began to speak to the woman, cautious, like he was talking to a scared child. The woman certainly didn’t look scared to Shouto.

Then the hero faltered.

He stumbled, a flash of pain on his face as he clutched at his side more desperately.
The mystery man suddenly surged forward and grabbed the woman. Something about his way of moving seemed familiar, hugging the woman by the shoulders and clutching her to his chest. He pressed his face into her hair, nearly collapsing on her.

In the blink of an eye, the two vanished and All Might fell unceremoniously to the ground. The hero didn’t move again.

Then, with a wimp stutter, the video ended.

Shouto stared at the black screen, completely baffled. He had no idea what he had just watched.

He rewatched it. Then twice.

It took him four times to figure out what happened to All Might at the end. The blurry camera work really didn’t help, but if he squinted, nose nearly pressed to the screen, Shouto could identify several small pieces of metal rising behind All Might.

Each of them moved forward, attracted to the woman and slicing straight through the hero’s deadly injury, somewhere his lung probably should be. Painful without a doubt, Shouto couldn’t even blame him for the way he crashed at the end. The pieces clattered to the ground at the same time the mystery man grabbed the woman.

There was no way this was real. It couldn’t be.

Everything heroes did was publicized. Shouto knew from experience. A fight with this much collateral damage, with a hero like All Might injured that badly would have been headlining news.

This villain couple should have had their faces plastered on every billboard from here to Tokyo. It must be a joke, a scene from a movie or a bizarre student film project or...just something else.

Anything else.

He was about to start looking up possible explanations, anything else about so-called Inko and the otherworldly fight she interrupted, but the bell rang before he even closed the video. Shouto scowled at the ceiling and begrudgingly turned off the computer without another glance.

It would just have to wait until later.

Shouto stared up at the streetlight, watching it blink from red to green. He pulled on the strap of his bag with a sigh as the cars before him rushed forward.

His father would be back from his mission tonight. He’d probably be home by the time he finished his homework. He had managed to sneak in a visit to his mother yesterday while he had been out of town, hopefully he didn’t find out about it. Shouto wasn’t looked forward to that discussion.

Everything was so boring, an endless cycle. The only change was Izuku. Meeting with him was nearly the only thing he looked forward to anymore. Shouto allowed himself to daydream for a moment, imagining a world where he didn’t have to deal with school, or his father, or his future, and just got to spend time with one of the last people who mattered to him.

A passing car horn snapped him out of that fantasy.

He glanced around at the others waiting with him. There were a few girls from his school, second-years according to their uniforms. He debated on pulling out his phone as the light changed again, signaling they could cross.

Shouto moved with the crowd, not paying much attention to where he was going. Eventually he fell behind his crosswalk group, strolling down the sidewalks behind that group of girls. He glanced across the street fleetingly, if only to look at something besides the back of their heads.

Instead, walking along the parallel sidewalk, among the other strangers, Shouto spotted a familiar head of curls. He stopped, squinting at the distancing person. For a moment, he even thought he was imagining it.

Another daydream, he was getting bad at those. Besides, his eyesight had never been good, especially not after the boiling water incident. His depth perception was awful. He should invest in glasses or contacts or something.

With nothing better to do, Shouto bolted through the lanes of empty street to the other side. He distantly heard a car honk at him and a few people exclaim at his stupidity. The teenager weaved between the crowd on the sidewalk, searching.

The muttering was what gave it away, walking a couple people in front of him. Shouto felt a smile cross his face. He reached out with a cold hand, grabbing his shoulder.

Izuku flinched, whirling around to face him with his hand outstretched. His eyes were wide, his mouth half open as he recognized him. His hand fell.In return, Shouto soaked in the sight of his friend in the daylight. His eyes had golden specks he had never noticed before, his freckles even darker on his skin. Above it all-

“Your hair is green.” He gasped dumbly, shocked.

Izuku stared at him, then slowly reached up and tugged at a curl, confused. “You didn’t know?”

“It looked black.” Shouto answered with a breathless smile. “I was starting to think you were nocturnal.”

He blushed, even prettier in the sunlight with the way his face turned rose pink. “W-What are you doing here?”

“My school is that way.” The other pointed in the direction he had come in explanation. “I was walking home.”

“Oh.”

“What are you doing here?” He returned, tilting his head.

Izuku shrugged vaguely like he wanted nothing more than to avoid that question. “N-Not much, you know, um-”

Someone knocked into his shoulder, causing Shouto to stumble. “Idiots-” The man growled as he forced his way past them, as well as muttering something about standing in the middle of the path.

He tried to correct himself, but someone steadied him before he could. Shouto slowly raised his head, meeting dazzling eyes. Their noses were nearly touching. Despite the busy street, sea of strangers, it felt like the night, when he and Izuku were the only people left in the world.

“You’re stronger than you look.” He murmured. The shorter teenager was nearly completely supporting his weight.

He had counted to eight before Izuku’s face turned red and he shoved him to his feet. “S-Sorry!” Without Shouto in his arms, he used his hands to cover his face.

It was just a little adorable.

“You caught me, don’t apologize.” Shouto mused with a smile. He was so easily embarrassed. “Do you want to go do something?”

“I-I, uh, huh? Why?” Izuku asked, peeking through his fingers.

The taller teenager shrugged. “I don’t want to go home yet, and it’s not like this has ever happened before. You do have other hobbies besides your-“

Izuku bolted forward, pressing a hand to Shouto’s mouth. “Don’t talk about that!”

“S-mry.” He answered, muffled. Right. Technically, Izuku’s late-night activities were still illegal and they were talking in the middle of a busy street.

Izuku took back his hand, pink-faced again. “W-We can go somewhere, if you want, I guess. I-I’m not busy, but I have to be home in a little while.”

“That’s fine. There’s a park near here. There’s a pretty good ice cream stand.”

Izuku laughed timidly, following as Shouto took the lead. “Is food all you think about? I feel like just last week you gave me an hour long presentation on the perfection of zaru soba”

“No, that was two weeks ago, at least.” He corrected, frowning. It had been a very good argument, but he still hadn’t been able to convince Izuku to change his favorite food. “And besides, I think of plenty of other things.”

Recently, his thoughts had been full of the stunning boy beside him.

Chapter Text

Sure, Dad said that the quirk-erasing drug stunt was probably a false underground publicity stunt that would never fulfill its promises, but Izuku enjoyed poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

That was his job, after all. The greatest heroes were ones who meddled, legality aside.

So, instead, Izuku sat across the table littered with empty plates from his parents and asked for permission to leave their apartment again.

“Didn’t you just go out the other day?” Mom asked suspiciously. “I’d like to see you home a little bit, at least.”

“That was Monday.” He corrected. “And it wasn’t all day, I left after lunch and was back before dinner.” By the time Izuku had reached the inner city, he had barely had any time to look around before he ran into Shouto. That had been totally accidental and, while he loved to spend time with his friend, he hadn’t been able to accomplish what he really wanted to.

“Classwork?” Dad interjected, sparing them a glance up from his papers.

“Done.” Today’s work has been finished yesterday. Izuku was nothing if not motivated.

Dad shrugged noncommittally, looking back at Mom for her opinion. She sighed. “As long as you’re careful, I suppose.” She finally relented.

Izuku grinned. “Thank you!”

He pushed away from the table as he thanked them again for good measure. Then he rushed to his room to change. Izuku picked out a casual, plain t-shirt that said long-sleeves and jeans, plus a jacket in case he needed the hood to hide his face. He stuffed his mask in his bag as well, along with a few extra pencils and a trusty notebook, as an extra measure. Usually the mask was something that gave him away in broad daylight, but occasionally it was needed.

He tried to fit in with the public as much as he could. It was a Friday, so most people his age were probably still in school. He’d go as far as to wear an old middle school uniform if any of the old ones had survived the destruction of his apartment, but alas, they were all ruined beyond repair at this point. If anyone really recognized him, they’d probably be too shocked at the sight of his ghost to try and speak to him anyway.

After wishing goodbye to his parents, he started off in the direction of his first destination. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his jacket, blending in with the strangers of the streets around him.

The yakuza were, like Dad explained, virtually nonexistent by now.

Only a small handful of groups remained financially stable enough to stay afloat and those were mostly only known in the deep depths of the underground. Most hero agencies and police units didn’t bother with investigating them, tossing them aside for the assumed, more dangerous villains.

Thankfully, Izuku didn’t have to spend very long researching yakuza members and incidents. Dad had offered up information concerning the remaining groups without much of a protest once Izuku firmly agreed, again, that he most definitely wanted to know about this. He had already checked out a few smaller groups the other day before he ran into Shouto with little success. His father had also included a page listing the specific known members of a group that had been the most directly involved with the drug-related incidents. Izuku had already located down the assumed headquarters, which led him to the curb he was standing on.

Shie Hassaikai’s compound resembled a very ordinary collection of office buildings. He never would have picked it out of the street on his own. However, according to Dad’s sources, several assumed members had been spotted going in and out of the complex.

The entire block was gated off, requiring Izuku to buzz in if he wanted to go inside. He didn’t, choosing to remain safely on the sidewalk across the street with his hands tugging on the straps of his bag.

It looked like it belonged among the other homes and offices, lying in wait. No one would imagine it was the base of an outdated yakuza. Dad hadn’t even known much about Shie Hassaikai. They had never been a major contender in any of his businesses, just a shadow of whatever it used to be centuries ago.

Izuku stared up at the cream outer walls. He debated about simply teleporting inside. That would be easy. Although, he had to assume there were cameras of some kind watching him. The last thing he needed was to be caught or have his quirk suppressed where he had no escape. Those drugs would work on him just like anyone else.

He wandered casually to the other side of the street, going all the way down the block to cross the road. Izuku summoned the metal-manipulation quirk, searching past the gates as he lingered in the shade of another building beyond the gates. Often, with these types of material-based telekinesis quirks, there was an added perception that would be normal for the quirk user. A way their brain and ability evolved to seek out helpful materials in the incident of sudden activation or conflict.

His mother had something similar with her quirk; the ability to sense small objects around her. Izuku had felt it a few times when he borrowed her quirk, but always found the sensation overwhelming. Little objects made up practically everything, any type of device or machine was full of them . Mom had just shrugged and said she grew used to it years ago and barely thought about it as anything out of the ordinary.

Izuku was just glad he didn’t have that problem with the quirks he kept. His body was made to hold multiple quirks and had no problem pushing unused ones to the back of his mind until they became useful. That type of perception usually lied dormant until he activated the quirk.

Sure enough, once he pushed past the iron of the gates, he could feel the lighter metallic sense of cameras hiding in the shadow of the roof. One on nearly every corner that he could reach.

Izuku deactivated the quirk with a thoughtful hum. He was dressed like any other teenager. They had no reason to see him as anything more.

The excessive amount of cameras was another confirmation of the reality of this building’s purposes. He couldn’t imagine why a residential office would ever need that much surveillance.

He began to walk around the perimeter of the building, carefully turning the view of the cameras as he did. On the outside, it really wasn’t anything special.

Then he felt the strangest of senses, standing on the right side of the furthest wall. He activated that sensory quirk, suddenly aware of someone walking below his feet. Metal light fixtures had been what alerted him earlier. His eyebrows knitted together as he slowly looked down at the ground.

He was still standing on the sidewalk, the subway lines didn’t even run in this direction. Izuku frowned, kneeling to press his hand to the concrete. He shut his eyes. Izuku dug up an enhancer quirk to combine with the sensory quirk and pushed its range further.

His eyes snapped open, a surprised gasp escaped him.

There were underground tunnels, stretching out further underneath the city.

Izuku felt it fade in several different directions from his position. They could go on for kilometers. He made another circle around the building, focusing his attention on the tunnels this time.

Then the teenager chose to follow one outward, back the direction he had come. He crossed the street again, staring down at his sneakers as he followed the path. Izuku was so enraptured in the discovery, half digging in his bag for his notebook while he walked, that he didn’t pay any attention to his other surroundings. That was probably why he walked face first into someone.

“Whoa, you okay?!” The voice exclaimed, strong hands found his shoulders to steady him. Izuku dropped the sensory quirk in an instant, jerking his head up with wide eyes.

He resembled a hero, dressed in a white costume with a red cape and golden numbers on his chest. Yet, he couldn’t be more than a few years older than Izuku. Maybe a sidekick or a student. “Y-Yeah. I’m fine, sorry.” He answered quickly, tripping over his words with a nervous blush.

“Are you lost?” A woman with blue skin asked gently, leaning over on the other side of the blond sidekick.

Izuku shook his head quickly. “N-No! I just got distracted. I’m sorry for running into you.” He bowed, trying to avoid their gazes.

The last thing he needed was to be recognized, especially if they were heroes. He wasn’t anywhere near his old home or school, nor even the police station that covered his and his mother ‘s deaths. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle a fight, but he really didn’t have plans for one today.

“It’s no problem, kid!” The caped hero said with a grin and a thumbs up. “I figured you’d be more worried if you walked through me, ha!”

“Lemillion-“ The woman began to scold, shaking her head.

The comment startled him enough to look up. “Walk through you? Is that your quirk? You’re a hero, aren’t you?” Izuku pressed excitedly, despite the circumstances. He didn’t immediately recognize him, but he was already growing curious about his quirk. It was a bad habit, at this point, so quickly throwing his previous plans out the window for the chance to learn about his power.

“We’re sidekicks,” She corrected. “and Lemillion is a student from Yuuei.”

“Oh-“

“If you’re not lost, then we should keep moving.” The woman interrupted. “You know how Sir is if we don’t stay on schedule.” She moved around him, gesturing for the blond to follow her in the other direction.

He winked at Izuku, waving. “Nice to meet you!” He called over his shoulder. Lemillion nearly walked right into the street lamp in his path, but suddenly phased through it at the last second to show off his quirk.

Izuku’s eyes widened. How fascinating.

If it wasn’t the middle of the day and he wasn’t a hero, Izuku might have even taken it. All it took was skin-contact. His brain was already running wild with thoughts of the effects and capabilities of a quirk like that.

He wasn’t anywhere close to as bad of a kleptomaniac as his father, but sometimes there were just those incredibly interesting quirks he wanted to learn more about. His fingers twitched, grip tightening on his notebook.

However, Izuku forced himself to stay put, trying to limit his mumbling as Lemillion and the woman continued on their patrol. Taking a hero’s quirk in the middle of a somewhat busy street was a terrible, awful idea, as much as he wanted to. He busied himself with digging out a pencil to keep his hands to himself.

With a sigh and a located pencil, the pair faded into the distant crowd and Izuku reminded himself of the task at hand. He looked down at the secret tunnel below him, inspecting the pavement like it would give him some type of answer. After another minute, he called upon the sensory and enhancing quirks and continued on his own path.

Izuku didn’t follow that entire tunnel, but instead gave up about fifteen minutes later and circled around the surrounding area of the base again.

Every once in a while, he’d sense another underground room or hallway or, occasionally, someone walking around underneath him. It was all several meters below the concrete. He could only sense the open space, but not much that told him what was inside except if it was connected to the ceiling, or rather tall in the case of people walking past. It was a messy maze, but after a couple of hours of wandering around and a couple scribbled and ripped out notebook pages, he managed to come up with a loose map of the closest tunnels.

Izuku held up his notebook, tilting it as he inspecting the messy map. Surely, it would make no sense to anyone beside him, he’d have to redraw a neater version later. Maybe even show it to Dad. He’d probably be interested in something like this.

The strangest room, perhaps, seemed to be some type of lab. Like with the other areas, he couldn’t make out everything inside, but he could feel the metallic equipment inside, the shapes of the upmost items. He supposed that must be where the drug was being developed, if this was their base of operations.

That didn’t exactly explain the rest of the extensive tunnels he felt. There was no need for such a large space underground, nor a reason for the way certain places were structured. It nearly reminded him of dorm rooms, small areas separated by several meters of concrete. Whatever they made that drug from, whatever they were testing, it was down there with them. Izuku just didn’t know what exactly it was.

After a while of wandering around and earning his fair share of strange looks for his muttering and frantic writing, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Izuku fished it out, reading a text that asked him to pick up milk before he came home. He checked the time, realizing it had been nearly four hours since he had eaten anything.

As much as he wanted to keep searching, Mom was very concerned about his ability to feed himself when he went out. He didn’t want to risk worrying her, so Izuku unfortunately was forced to put his underground tunnel exploration on hold for a late lunch.

Looking up at the street he was on now, only two away from the main, aboveground yakuza complex, he spotted a small grocery store. Izuku put his phone away again and started toward it. There were only two workers inside, a few random shoppers dotting the aisles. He made a beeline for the pre-made bento boxes and began to scan the shelves. However, before he could pick one out, he was quickly distracted by the next aisle over.

He could hear the shoving of items around the shelves, strangely forcefully. Izuku looked back at the bento boxes with a longing sigh, then turned away from them.

The teenager slowly walked down the aisle, pausing at the end as he peeked around the wall of shelves. The next one over was primarily cleaning supplies and empty, beside a single man.

He was a medium height, rummaging around the shelves. His dark hair was chopped short. He wore dark clothes and gloves, despite it being a somewhat warm day, as well as a black face mask. Maybe his quirk had to deal with skin contact or fingerprints.

He seemed strangely familiar, but Izuku wasn’t sure where he had seen him before, if at all.

He didn’t seem to notice Izuku standing there as he finally decided on the largest bottle of bleach on the shelf. That itself wouldn’t have been concerning, if the man didn’t then hold up a can of soup in his other hand and stare at the two items together. He seemed to pause for a moment, but ultimately lowered his hands and walked away.

“This should work.” He said to himself, barely loud enough to hear.

Izuku carefully returned to the next aisle, picking out a box for lunch and turning to walk up to the checkout counter. Instead, he spotted that man leaving the store. He carried the bleach in one hand, a plastic bag in the other. His profile passed by the window outside and realization slammed into him.

Chisaki Kai.

He fumbled with his phone, quickly pulling up the pictures he had taken of his father’s information about the yakuza. Chisaki’s photo was blurrier than the others. He had less sightings than other members, meaning he was likely a higher ranking member. Izuku looked up just as he walked past the window and out of sight, but it was without a doubt the same person.

A number of other questions sprang up at this realization. He furrowed his eyebrows, stealing a glance back toward the sanitation aisle. Izuku mused over the facts while he waited in line, trying to come up with a decent answer. He payed for his lunch with cash and a small smile, then left.

He found a park not far from the base to eat, watching the children chase each other around as he wondered. Very little about Chisaki was known, but he was a member of Shie Hassaikai nonetheless. He must have a reason to be out when he was, perhaps handling something unfit for lower level members. Izuku couldn’t imagine what that would be.

Izuku pulled out his phone again, scrolling through the recent news headlines and found nothing relating to the yakuza. Then, it struck him that he didn’t even know what would be evidence of Chisaki’s involvement. He didn’t know what his quirk was, it was unlisted in Dad’s information as well.

It took him about twenty minutes to crack Endeavor’s password for the hero database. He picked his account out of spite, hoping he’d get some type of repercussion for letting his security become compromised, despite how unlikely that’d be. He’d probably get away with it, just like what he was doing to Shouto every night. A smug smile found its way to Izuku’s face anyway as the page loaded, welcoming Todoroki Enji.

Izuku searched the criminal records for Chisaki Kai, assuming it would at least be an alias. Instead, he got one result.

It wasn’t even a fake name. Izuku rolled his eyes.

His quirk was called Overhaul. According to the listed description, he could disassemble and reassemble matter however he chose. Powerful, Izuku noted with a hum. He curiously wondered how it worked exactly, the range and materials he could affect. It didn’t list anything about inanimate or biological objects, virtually nothing beyond the basic summary.

Another fact that pointed to Chisaki being a higher ranking member. The heroes probably didn’t see much of him. They, most likely, had only connected the quirk from registration every four-year-old submitted once their quirk emerged.

That could only be taken at face value, of course, because heroes often explained quirks incorrectly. Izuku knew from experience.

The quirk could have also been registered wrong in the first place, it was subjective registration. Most people ended up changing the official registration of their quirks later in life anyway. Izuku’s quirk registration was wrong, if anyone cared to look up a dead child. He was still listed as quirkless.

Chisaki could very well have a completely different type of quirk, but only he could answer that question.

Or Izuku, if he took it.

He usually had to have some type of previous knowledge of the quirk before he could take it. After watching one in action, he could guess pretty well. He supposed if he tried to take Overhaul and couldn’t, the database must be wrong.

The conclusion of it all, though, was that Izuku wanted more information. He had no idea why Chisaki was doing his own dirty work, buying something as minimal as a can of soup and bleach. He still didn’t know how they were creating this so-called quirk-canceling drug. He didn’t know what was living under his feet, why there were so many cell-like rooms down there.

The only way he’d probably figure that out would be to go underground.

Chapter Text

Izuku’s hair was green.

It was a brilliant dark green forest color, only visible in direct sunlight. It wasn’t a incredibly interesting fact, it wasn’t even the most interesting thing about Izuku himself, but Shouto took pleasure in just another random detail about his friend.

Nearly a week had passed since that afternoon. It was well worth the harsher training he endured after getting home so late. For the most part, it was very much like their meetings in the dark. There had just been sunlight on their clothes, bright pigments of green, and streets full of people surrounding them.

Shouto had caught himself smiling about it a few times, walking the halls of his school absentmindedly. If his peers noticed the soft upturn of his lips, they didn’t dare comment.

He was doing it again, he noted. The teenager glanced away from the lecture before him, covering his mouth with his hand as he stared out the window to his left. It was math, the last class he had before lunch. There were only a few minutes left until the bell, obvious from the growing restlessness of his classmates.

He remained silent and separated in the back corner of the room until the bell rang. Everyone rushed to their feet, filing out of the room with bags thrown over their shoulders and loud conversations filling the air. He quietly packed up his things and grabbed his bag. He decided upon the library again today, wandering to the cafeteria to collect his food before he turned back into the deserted halls.

Shouto sat at his usual back corner and logged into one of the computers while he inspected his food. When he glanced back at the screen, he was met with a message asking if he wanted to restore his previous webpages.

He couldn’t remember what he had even been looking at last time. The last several lunches had been spent on an English essay, always his worst subject. Fleetingly, he clicked restore anyway and was met with an error screen.

Suddenly, staring at the screen, he remembered the video, the forums of strange stories, and the mystery villain, All for One.

Yet, according to what was in front of him, the video had been removed.

The post couldn’t be found. Shouto blinked at the sideways frowning face for a moment, trying to remember the details of the video. He recalled there was something he wanted to look up afterwards when he got home, but had ended up being distracted by Izuku and, later, his father.

For a few minutes, Shouto tried searching for the video in other places, but came up with no results. It seemed to have vanished completely from the Internet. When he looked up All Might, he scrolled through his long list of previous conflicts for anything that involved the villain couple, but found nothing there either. It was only when he was reading the series of names included in All Might-involved incidents that he remembered the name.

Her name: Inko.

Shouto quickly opened another tab and typed in just that, slurping some noodles while he waited for it to load. Immediately, the first results included several articles concerned with the death of a woman and her son. Shouto read the first headline.

Mother and son killed in sudden explosion near Musutafu.

He didn’t understand immediately why Inko warranted these types of results, maybe the villain had been responsible somehow. Maybe the explosion was a result of her quirk. All of the articles were from about a year ago. He reached for his drink as he clicked on the first link, bringing him a full-length page.

The first line repeated the article’s headline in bold font again, along with the author and published date. He scrolled down to read further and met with two photos side by side, presumably the mother and son.

His milk carton fell to the floor.

It was Izuku.

In the photo he was wearing a typical black gakuran that made him look too small. It was probably a school photo, from the basic background and uniform. His smile was thin, subdued from what Shouto was used to seeing, from what belonged on his face.

He seemed paler, darker freckles standing out on his skin. His eyes were dull, hiding, hesitant. He looked a little younger, but it was undeniably Izuku. Green hair and all.

He was dead.

The woman pictured next to him was undoubtedly his mother, with the same dark green hair tied back and the same big green eyes. The resemblance was uncanny. Her picture was a little happier. She gave him a digital smile through the screen.

Shouto felt sick. The screen twisted and morphed as he tried to force his eyes from the two photos. He attempted to read past the pictures, scrolling down to the rest of the article. His vision was blurred, for some reason. He spread his fingers on the table, trying to steady himself. It took excruciatingly long to make sense of the words before him.

Midoriya Izuku and Midoriya Inko died a year ago. According to the fire officials, it had been a random gas explosion with no evidence of foul play. An accident destroyed their apartment and the couple surrounding it at about two in the morning. There had been a few others injured, but only they had died.

The boy he had spent almost half of a year getting to know was dead. The one he had seen just last week, with gold in his eyes and green in his hair.

He had been dead for a long time.

Shouto’s hands were shaking as he pushed away from the computer. His foot bumped the spilled carton. It skidded across the floor. At first, he dizzily thought he was going to throw up, but the feeling died into an empty shock. He stared at the floor and the growing pool of milk, head swimming.

What the fuck?

Was he insane? Was Izuku even real at all?

It wasn’t like his family didn’t have a history of mental illness.

Perhaps he had seen the article before. He imagined the boy without even knowing it. Maybe it was the result of some head trauma, courtesy of his father’s training. He had hallucinated every conversation, every word Izuku said.

It had felt so real.

When he told him those things, when he laughed. The sound gracing Shouto’s ears sounded real. When he touched him, gentle and caring. When he smiled at him, drawing strange feelings out of the icy depths of his heart, ripping down every wall Shouto had crafted.

Shouto left his lunch on the desk, carton on the floor, but managed to remember his bag and his phone as he scrambled to his feet. He didn’t even close the tabs on the screen, rushing out of the library without a word.

No one batted an eye as he ran out the front doors of the school. Plenty of students left for lunch. Shouto was just one of them, typing Midoriya Izuku into his phone as he emerged into the city.

Aldera Junior High was a medium-sized public school.

It was a plain building, surrounded by a plain wall and on a plain street. Their lunch must not have ended yet, with students in matching uniforms lingering around the gates aimlessly.

It was on the outskirts of the city, a forty minute walk from Shouto’s school. Families who lived in the suburbs and the apartment buildings he had passed on the way here probably sent their children here. It wasn’t anything like Shouto’s school, an expensive private school his father payed a great deal of money to for him to skip his afternoon classes.

The teenager glanced at his phone. Izuku’s dull eyes stared back at him.

He would have been a second-year here when he died. If he was alive, he’d be a third-year now, like him.

Shouto spent an uncomfortably long time staring up at the building. He wanted to move, to storm the school and demand answers they probably didn’t have. Instead, he stood frozen. He might as well have been encased in ice, from the chill in his bones and the stiffness of his joints.

He searched the face of every student he saw, wishing he’d catch those bright eyes, hear someone affectionately call his name.

Strangers’ conversations floated around him.

Some of the students were talking about him, probably wondering who he was. It washed over him like a distant, garbled mess of hushed words and accusing sentences. Clearly, from his uniform, he wasn’t from around here. He assumed the bell would ring soon and they would finally leave him alone to stare in insane peace.

Instead, one of the boys dressed in black stalked up to him. He wore a glare, with spiky blond hair and crimson eyes.

“Who the fuck are you, Half-and-Half?”

“Are you a third-year?” Shouto asked instead of answering the question, serving to only irritate the blond further. His eyes moved deathly slow from the building to the boy, nearly ignoring his presence entirely.

“Yeah, why the fuck does it matter? Why have you been weirdly staring at our school for like fifteen minutes?” He snapped.

“Do you know who Midoriya Izuku is?”

There was a visible change in the other student. His eyes widened a little, his posture stiffened, and his mouth bared in a snarl. He clinched his fists and for a moment, Shouto thought he was going hit him.

The blond, instead, leveled him with an odd, serious expression. “Where did you hear that name?”

“The news.” The taller teenager lied, eventually turning his full attention to him. “You know him, right?”

“Fuck off.” He growled in answer.

Shouto frowned, hesitating before he spoke again. “Did he... Is he really dead?”

In a second, the blond was reaching for him, a loud explosion sounding somewhere his face. It was probably a good thing that he couldn't feel half of his face anymore. Shouto stumbled backwards, twisting out of his burning grasp and raising his right arm to defend himself. He heard the footsteps of other kids, a few boys running up to the blond.

“He didn’t mean it, Bakugou!”

“Calm down!” One of them grabbed his arm before the blast could land.

Bakugou gritted his teeth, furiously glaring at him while his friends restrained him. “Fucking bring up Deku again and I’ll kill you, Halfie! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Shouto frowned, a good distance away from him. “Who’s Deku?”

The blond struggled again, but the bell behind them rang loudly. His friends managed to convince him to leave, half-walking, half-dragging back toward the school building. Shouto stared at their backs, left only more confused.

A girl cleared her throat next to him, earning a little flinch. He hadn’t noticed her walk up. He wondered if she’d try to hit him, too. “Deku and Bakugou were childhood friends. He didn’t really take his death well.” She said in simplistic explanation.

“Deku is Izuku? Why would you call him something like that?”

She nodded with a shrug. She looked like she was going to keep walking past him toward the school, but paused awkwardly. Her hands bunched her skirt nervously. “We didn’t actually want him to die, you know. All those times we said that, it was a joke, you know? I mean, he was a real weirdo, but nobody actually wanted him dead.”

Shouto had no idea what that could possibly mean. Before he could ask any more questions, the girl already had caught up to Bakugou and the other students.

He had hoped going to his middle school would answer some questions or give him some type of explanation. Instead, he was left wandering the streets, even more confused than before.

More than that, he was scared. He didn’t understand anything anymore. He didn’t know if Izuku was real, or if anything was.

Everything had been so great and now he was left out of his mind.

Shouto studied everyone who passed him, wishing to catch a glance of him in the crowd again. Even if it was fake, he did get some type of comfort in seeing his face.

He wasn’t sure where exactly he had wandered to until he recognized the store. This was one of Izuku’s patrol paths. They had walked it plenty of times together. Shouto looked up at the sign above the glass door, ignoring the irritated people moving around him like a river. He inspected the sale posters in the windows, shelves inside stacked with colorful products.

Then he noticed the girl behind the counter, scrolling through her phone with purple hair tied back in a ponytail. He was moving before he realized it, shoving the door open. The overhead bell loudly announced him as he walked up to the cashier. For a long minute, he just stared.

Her wings shifted a little as she looked up, suddenly noticing him there. “Um...can I help you?”

“Do you remember me?” He asked blankly.

She looked bewildered, leaning back as Shouto spoke. “Uh-“

“I came in here, in the middle of the night, was I alone? Did you see the boy with me?” The teenager stressed.

Her eyes flickered over his face while he held his breath. Finally, she slowly nodded. “A few weeks ago, you bought snacks, right? At like three-am.”

Shouto nearly melted in relief. “Was I alone?”

“No, there was some kid in a green hoodie with you. With bunny ears?” She guessed, gesturing to her head as he nodded frantically.

He wasn’t crazy.

Izuku was real. He wasn’t dead.

Shouto quickly thanked the woman, giving her a thousand yen just for her answer. She looked even more puzzled, but took the money without protest. The teenager left the store with a smile, his faith in his mind restored.

He hadn’t imagined it all. He wasn’t insane.

Halfway down the street, Shouto faltered. His excitement died a little as he was unfortunately faced with a new question.

Why did the world think Midoriya Izuku was dead?

Chapter Text

Izuku felt the eyes watching him from the doorway, silent for a patient moment. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

His gaze flickered up from the map in his hands to meet his father’s inspection, then quickly looked back down. Izuku had found some outdated blueprints of the aboveground buildings on an old real-estate website, but of course there was no evidence of the tunnels below. They must have been made with a quirk, without the city’s knowledge. 

The teenager folded the map and tucked it away in his pocket with a curt nod. “I’m sure. I’m just going to look around.”

“In the middle of the day?” 

“Hero patrols are less frequent during the day as well as in the middle of the week.” He answered matter-of-factly, like his father didn’t already know that too. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

It wasn’t like he had never done this before. However, Dad was probably thinking about the first time he had been forced to defend someone else in broad daylight. The sludgy, murky green quirk sat unused in the back of his mind to this day, stubbornly ignored until Izuku could pass it off to someone else and never have to think about that day again.

“I’m not sure why you’re so interested in this yakuza, but if you won’t even let me come, please be extra careful.” His father relented with a sigh. He pushed off of the doorway to meet him halfway and press a kiss to the top of his head. Izuku blushed and rolled his eyes at the gesture. “If you get into any trouble, know that you can call me and I’ll be there in less than a second.”

Izuku huffed. “I know, Dad, but nothing is going to happen. You’re starting to sound like Mom.”

“Anyone who tries to hurt you would prefer me over her.” He smiled thinly.

A short laugh escaped him as he tried to imagine his small mother coming to his rescue. She had done it before with his father, but Izuku had never actually seen that side of her in action. She could certainly be terrifying when she wanted to, especially where Izuku or Dad were concerned. Plenty of organs were small enough to be influenced by her quirk.

He smiled and pulled on his hood. “Don’t let her worry too much. I’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

Izuku was only about ten minutes from Shie Hassaikai’s base when he sensed a presence behind him. They stuck out to him, in a familiar recognition, quickly growing closer in a way that pointed to the fact that they clearly had recognized Izuku as well.

He had stuck to the shadows, high rooftops if he could. His dark, made for the night, vigilante outfit attracted much more attention than the casual clothes he usually wore when went out in the day. Izuku didn’t want to wear it, but took the risk for whatever was waiting for him under that base. He teleported between shaded corners and empty streets on the way to his destination, sticking to less traveled roads and remaining virtually unnoticed by anyone until now.

In a swift second, he twisted around, wires bursting from his knuckles and wrapping around their limbs. The teenager pinned them up against the brick wall, an arm under their throat as he restrained them. 

In another, his eyes widened as he took in multicolored eyes and sharply different halves, grip slacking instantly. “Shouto-“

“Why does everyone think you’re dead?”

Izuku’s blood ran cold. For a moment, he thought it was the other boy’s quirk, but it remained dormant. The chill remained only in his eyes as he sharply stared down at Izuku. Their faces were close enough that Shouto could clearly see the shock written on his face. 

“W-What?” He choked, frantically searching his friend’s features for some kind of joke. His thoughts exploded, trying to coming up with any explanation besides the one he knew to be true. 

This was exactly what he didn’t need right now.

Shouto watched him with obvious scrutiny, guarded and serious. “Midoriya Izuku is dead. I went to your middle school. They all think you’re dead, but, clearly, you’re not.”

Izuku was floundering, struggling and failing to come up with an answer for him. Everything he thought of was insane or far too close to reality. There was nothing he could say to make this make sense. Even the truth sounded hilariously fake in his head. Shouto was far too smart to believe anything besides a really great lie. Izuku wished he had asked Dad for more help in that category, but of course he always wanted to go the most honest route.

He had never imagined Shouto would find out. He had been careful to keep everything identifying a secret, like Dad taught him. Somehow, anyway, here he was. 

“We can’t talk about this here.” Izuku gasped, barely above a whisper. It didn’t sound like his voice.

Izuku loosed his grip, allowing his friend to drop to his feet and he turned, prepared to teleport away. Before he could, Shouto latched onto his wrist. “Then let’s go somewhere else.”

“I can’t, I’m busy.”

“Being not dead?” Shouto returned, deadpanned. “You haven’t been coming by my house lately. I thought I was going crazy, imagining you. I want to know what’s going on.”

“You can’t.” Izuku stressed, twisting back toward him. “I-It’s really complicated and-“

“Then I’m coming with you.”

The shorter boy blinked at him, then immediately shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dangerous.” He had no idea what he was walking into with Shie Hassaikai. He couldn’t let Shouto get hurt trying to follow him. 

“You’re going.” Shouto argued. “If you’re not going to tell me what’s going on, then I’m coming with you.”

“It’s-“ Izuku cut off with a frustrated huff. The taller boy looked undeterred, hand still closed around his wrist to keep him from escaping. “I’m investigating a gang, you shouldn’t get involved.”

“I’ve been involved since I met you.” He returned, unfazed. “I’m trained. I’ve fought with you before.”

Izuku chewed on his lip, staring back at Shouto. He looked so determined. It radiated off of him, stubborn to a fault and unwilling to let him go. 

Everything in him was screaming that this was a bad idea, but it wasn’t like he could tell Shouto the truth. Yet, if he started a fight with him here to escape, a slightly-populated area of the city in the middle of the day, he’d definitely attract attention. There would be heroes on his tail before he could even get into the tunnels. The last thing he needed was a full-scale raid on the yakuza base because of him. 

But, if he let Shouto go, who knew what he’d do.

He might decide to walk into the nearest police station and describe everything he had seen and been told. He’d have more validity than most, as the son of a notable hero. Even if he didn’t know everything, it would still drag up his and his mother’s so-called death, more investigation into the case, possibly leading to questions about his father and how he wasn’t in America like he had said he was and everything would be fucked.

So Izuku pressed his lips into a line, matching his friend’s determined gaze. “Stay with me and listen to me, okay? I don’t know what we’re getting into and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.” Shouto answered with a smug expression as he realized he won. Only by default, Izuku wanted to add bitterly. “Are you going to tell me the truth after this?” Izuku just shugged and activated the teleportation quirk. 

After a few more jumps, they landed on the ledge of a commercial building across the street from the yakuza’s hidden headquarters. Izuku remained perched on the edge, inspecting the street below for any sign of a threat. 

He imagined that pair of sidekicks swooping in out of nowhere to arrest him or Chisaki Kai stumbling out of the gates to attack him. 

Instead, a painfully boring street sat before him. 

He nervously tugged on his hood, reminding himself of Dad’s lessons. Izuku knew hero protocol like the back of his hand, had memorized the routes of patrols and all the quirks of the employed at every agency in the area. He had a plan, he just needed to stick to it. 

“What‘s this about?” Shouto asked after a minute of paused silence. 

Izuku awkwardly looked at him, resigning to this break in the plan. “We’re going in there.” He pointed at the unassuming base. “It’s the headquarters of Shie Hassaikai, an old yakuza organization. That woman who attacked us mentioned a quirk-erasing drug and I tracked the origins of those rumors to here. There’s a system of underground tunnels that I think will explain some of how they’re developing the drug.”

“The woman who talked about All for One.” Shouto noted. Izuku winced at the name, stealing another glance at him. “What you said about him...was that the truth?”

Izuku’s mouth was dry as he debated his answer. Finally, he shook his head slowly. 

Shouto gave him an accusing look, different-colored eyes darting across his face. Izuku knew he couldn’t see his horribly unconvincing expression due to his hood, but he still felt on display under his watchful gaze. 

“Are you All for One?” Shouto finally asked, earning a relieved sigh from Izuku. 

He wasn’t lying when he answered. “No.” 

Shouto relaxed slightly and nodded. “Okay.” He murmured, more to himself than Izuku

“Come on. Let’s go.” Izuku grabbed his hand and soon they were inside the building. 

The first floor led them down a simple hallway. Shouto looked around suspiciously, but Izuku’s sensory quirk told him they were alone. It looked just like a normal office building, devoid of activity despite this being a usual work day. 

Izuku led the way as he sensed the tunnels below. The taller teenager remained stiffly aware as they walked slowly, frost growing up his right arm. 

He had already memorized his map and knew vaguely where the entrance was. He activated the metal-manipulation quirk as well, seeking out the cameras in the walls. While his face was hidden, Shouto looked like a middle schooler who had stumbled inside, fully dressed in his school uniform. 

Izuku supposed he was; it was a school day after all. He had probably been on the way to school when he had spotted Izuku. 

It required the enhancer quirk, but he waved his hand as they walked and each camera turned to point up at the ceiling and hid them from view. He should invest in some type of technology jamming quirk at some point, if he was going to make this type of breaking-and-entering a habit. Dad might have one to spare, if he asked.

“Is that you?” Shouto asked quietly, watching the cameras suspiciously. Izuku nodded, dropping his hand.

It looked like any other building on the inside, nothing incriminating or interesting at all. That only confirmed his suspicions that the real answers lie below them. 

Shouto paused suddenly, distracting Izuku’s train of thought. He stood statically, staring at a small vase full of blue flowers. The hallway was mostly empty besides the table the vase sat on. 

“What’s wrong?” Izuku asked.

“They’re fake.” Shouto hummed, curiously reaching toward the vase. Izuku wasn’t sure why that really mattered, or caught Shouto’s attention in the first place. 

He was distracted by the sensory quirk again, telling him that some stairs that led further underground began here. Catiously, Izuku stepped forward. He touched the vase and waited, but nothing happened. Shouto cleared his throat, clearly unimpressed. Izuku ignored him, picking up the vase to set it aside for the table it sat on. Instead, they both stared at the switch underneath.

“That’s not supposed to be there.” Shouto noted, peering over his shoulder. 

Izuku reached forward flipped the switch, stiffening as the wall folded in on itself. They tensed for an incoming attack, but nothing emerged from the new, dark doorway.

“The tunnels.” Izuku murmured, stepping aside to set the vase on the ground. 

He glanced back at Shouto and the other shrugged. “Lead the way.”

Izuku slowly walked into the darkness, faltering slightly as he stepped on the first stair. There was a sleek, metal cold handle to his left that Izuku didn’t use. As they walked, he felt temperature drop as they moved further underground. He shivered, clinching his fists at his side. 

Then, suddenly, a gentle wave of heat came from behind him. The shorter boy looked back at Shouto curiously. 

“You’re cold.” Was the only thing he offered as an explanation. Shouto pointedly avoided Izuku’s gaze, choosing the concrete ceiling above their heads instead. 

Izuku felt his face heat with a tell-tale blush, but he didn’t say anything else as they emerged finally into the tunnels. 

There weren’t any cameras down here, not any that he could sense at least. The walls, floors, and ceilings were made of slate-colored concrete. Glowing white illuminated the hallway, cast from the overhead lines of lights. The buzzing of electricity filled the ringing silence. 

Whatever the yakuza was doing down here, they clearly didn’t want it documented.

“This isn’t suspicious at all.” Shouto mused, looking in each direction the hallway split off into. “Where now?” His voice, while quiet, sounded deafening in the halls. Every sound echoed. 

“There’s a lab, this way I think. We should try there first.” 

“Okay.” 

Izuku kept the sensory quirk up so he could be aware of any people heading toward them. It was draining to keep a quirk activated for that long, but necessary. There was no company as they walked. Izuku would have assumed it was abandoned, if not for the running electricity above them. Shouto remained silent, but clearly poised to fight if needed. 

He was somewhat surprised about how calm Shouto was about this. He seemed to listen to him without a second thought, following his lead without an argument. It made Izuku heart flutter for some reason, realizing how much Shouto must trust him to go along with this, despite all the questions he must have.

The lab was behind a thick steel door, breaking the uniformity of the concrete walls and floor. Izuku tugged it open, following Shouto inside. As soon as they entered, they both cringed. Izuku reached up to cover his nose at the sharp stench. Shouto might not recognize it immediately, but he did.

The smell of death lingered in the air.

The lights flickered a few times before they turned on, revealing a large metal table in the center of the room and a wall of silver equipment. The walls were white, splattered pink. Floor tiles were chipped and cracked. A fist-shaped hole had made a home in one of the walls. 

Shouto drifted toward the table, staring at his morphed reflection in the surface. It reminded him of a medieval surgical table, thick leather straps hanging down to the floor. The spaces between them looked too small to restrain a normal-sized person.

Izuku separated from him, wandering toward the wall of cabinets and counters. The cabinets were populated with rolls of gauze, racks of test tubes, and jars of syringes. A number of other medical equipment he couldn’t name littered the counters. There was a tall cabinet full of white hospital gowns. He picked one up, unfolding it and frowning. It looked small enough to fit a young child. 

Izuku was starting to really hate this place.

“Look at this.” Shouto called, one of the drawers opened. He held up a few papers as Izuku walked over. “They’re studying the human genome. I only recognize it because we talked about it in class the other day.” 

“This is talking about the sixteenth chromosome. That’s been traced back to the origin of quirks.” Izuku gasped, taking the paper from him and reading over it quickly. “It’s where most quirks are based.”

“Ah.”

“I guess it makes sense if they’re researching erasing quirks they’d look to their origins. The mutation itself is fairly recent in context of all human evolution, it wasn’t hard for people to track where it came from in the terms of genes, although since there’s such a variety nowadays there’s been an uptick in areas of the body that are influenced or change to incorporate quirks...“ Izuku trailed off, reaching for another page. 

It looked like this was only part of the full research, a few random papers left here either for reference or purely out of forgetfulness. This one in particular had some notes among the typed words, mentioning something called Eri several times. Izuku furrowed his eyebrows at the unfamiliar name, trying to place it in the context,

“You know a lot about quirks.” Shouto noted. 

Izuku blushed, glancing away from the page. “I, uh, it’s a hobby.”

“It’s impressive.” He answered, turning away from the drawer. “What now?” 

He shrugged, folding a few of the more interesting papers to take with him. “This probably isn’t where they do the most of their testing, it seems more like an medical bay than that, maybe where they do human tests of the drug. There’s a few more rooms I-“

“Izuku.” 

At his name, the shorter boy looked, up, surprised by the paleness of his friend’s face. He had opened one of the other cabinets, holding up a test tube full of a thick, red liquid.

“Is that...blood?”

Izuku swallowed his disgust, hoping it was just something else. He took it from Shouto, reading the label, then swirling it. It certainly looked like blood.

“Why do they have this?” Shouto asked quietly. 

Izuku shrugged with an uneasy frown. “For testing, possibly. They might have isolated the quirk gene and used the drug with these samples.” He gave it back to Shouto for him to return it to the shelf. There were several rows of the test tubes. 

“This one says Eri on it.” The taller boy noted. “What’s Eri?”

“No idea.” Izuku wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. “We should keep moving, I hope we can find some stuff about their actual progress on the drug, as well as what they’re actually planning on using it for.” Shouto nodded silently, following him toward the door. 

They were nearly to the next destination on his map when Izuku suddenly felt someone on the edge of his range. He held out his hand, causing Shouto to pause and shoot him a puzzled look. They felt small, moving toward them quickly.

He heard the footsteps first, fast and hushed. Then the shout. 

“Eri! Get back here!” A voice shouted distantly, only its echoes reached them. 

In another second, they turned the corner toward them, running straight into Shouto. He let out a little oof, stumbling as a child collided with his legs. Izuku blinked at the newcomer in confusion, mouth half-open. 

None of the information he saw about the yakuza had mentioned a child.

She was no older than six, dressed in a white gown that sickeningly reminded him of the one he had found in that room. Her hair was a blue-grey color, tangled and unkept as it fell messily down her back. A stubby horn kept one side of her bangs out of her face. Thick bandages covered most of her arms and legs. Dark purple and blue bruises spotted her uncovered, paper-white skin.

“Are you okay?” Shouto kneeled, taking her gently in his arms. He didn’t ask what a child was doing down here, but the question was obvious when he glanced back at Izuku. 

She was trembling, the shorter boy noticed. He only heard the end of what she murmured into his shoulder, hands tightly gripping his shirt. “...don’t wanna go back.”

“Eri-“ The voice from earlier was suddenly closer. “You can’t run off like that.”

Chisaki Kai turned the corner, suddenly freezing at the sight of them. His eyes narrowed, darting from the child to each of the boys. 

Eri.

The blood, the hospital gowns, the girl...

Izuku’s eyes widened, staring at the man. He gritted his teeth, clinching his fist as the terrible pieces fit together in his head. 

“Chisaki,” He firmly spoke, eyes darkening. “what are you doing to her?” 

Izuku wasn’t sure why he ever planned anything anymore. It always got thrown out the window by the end of the mission. 

The man looked a little surprised at his name. “That’s none of your concern.” He growled. “I don’t know how two children got down here, but I suppose you’ve already seen too much.” He reached for one of his white gloves, pulling it off. Eri visibly flinched at the movement.

Izuku stepped between them, holding out his hand to keep Shouto and Eri back. He started running through his quirks in his head. “Your quirk is so impressive. Why do you use it to hurt her? It’s a waste.” He spat.

That seemed to piss off Chisaki even more. “You’re what I hate most, obsessed with the sickness.” He spat. “Eri, get back here.”

Shouto’s hold around her tightened protectively. “She doesn’t have to listen to you.”

“I’m her father.”

“So?” Shouto retorted.

Chisaki hummed thoughtfully, gaze murderous. He clinched his ungloved fist. “Eri, your friends are going to get hurt.” 

She stiffened. 

In another second, she had ripped away from Shouto. Eri ducked under his outstretched arm and ran back toward Chisaki, freezing behind him. Slowly, she turned toward them again, stiffly at his side. Izuku saw her eyes for the first time. 

Large, wine red and trained on the floor.

She wrung her hands in her dirty gown. It was bloodstained, Izuku noticed. 

“Well, I supposed I must deal with you two.” Chisaki sighed, like he was discussing a menial chore rather than most likely murder. “This gets so messy.” He huffed, irritated.

Without any other warning, he slammed his ungloved hand into the ground. Izuku yelped, latching onto Shouto. He teleported them backwards, falling harshly on the ground as the hallway reconfigured.

The walls caved in before reforming rapidly. Spikes of concrete and twisted metal shot forward. If they hadn’t moved, surely they would have been impaled. 

“What the-“

“His quirk is called Overhaul. It’s touch-based.” Izuku gasped, watching Chisaki assess the ruined hallway and eventually look past it, finding them unscarred on the other side. “He can assemble and reassemble matter, I’m not sure if it works on organic material or not, but I don’t want to test it. Don’t let him touch you.”

“We can’t let that girl stay here.” Shouto decided quietly. “He hurts her.” 

Although he had already come to that conclusion, he was momentarily surprised to see the icy fury in his friend’s eyes.. “R-Right. I have more mobility so I’ll grab her. You’re long distance, so keep him away and occupied.”

They stood, shifting into fighting positions. Izuku activated an endurance and speed quirk. He just had to take his quirk, then they could escape easily. This needed to be quick, before other yakuza members started showing up for backup.

He bolted forward, twisted through the spikes. He was almost to him, but he overshot the relapse time. Izuku watched his surroundings shift again as Chisaki activated Overhaul again. A few flashes of pain told him he had been grazed, but nothing too bad yet. He pushed through, a muted shout escaping his bared teeth. When he was close enough, he teleported through Chisaki, landing behind him. His thigh stung where he hit the ground, blood smearing on the floor. 

Eri gasped. She stumbled backward from his sudden appearance. Izuku forced a smile to his face and pushed himself up. “Are you okay?” He reached for her, teleportation quirk dancing on the edge of his fingertips. 

“Don’t corrupt her!” Chisaki shouted furiously. He whirled around, slamming his palm to the ground. A wall shot up between them and Izuku fell backwards. Next, Chisaki reached toward him and his torn sleeve.

It must work on organic material then. 

In turn, Izuku stretched toward his face. All he needed was one touch. He already knew what his quirk was, he just needed to take it. 

Instead, a burst of fire interrupted them. He called upon a defensive quirk that bounced back the fire as it touched him. Chisaki managed to dodge and turned to face Shouto.

His friend glared at the villain, raising his flaming arm in threat. “Leave him alone.”

“You’re annoying.” Chisaki hissed, bothered. He uncovered his other hand as Shouto stomped. Ice rocketed forward. 

Izuku used the sensory quirk to guess where Eri was cocooned on the other side of the wall. He teleported into the space as Shouto attacked Chisaki again, startling Eri.

She was curled up half a meter away, shaking. Her hands were gripping tightly in her hair, covering her ears. Tears threatening to fall from her eyes. He noticed a bloody spot on her gown. It was a fresher scarlet than the other stains.

Izuku crawled toward her, pulling off his hood in hopes his face would be more friendly. His heart ached at the sight of her. The pain of his scratches scraping against the rubble was barely noticeable. Coursing determination pushed it out of his mind. 

He would get herl out of here. He would save her from whatever horrors Chisaki had subjected her to. 

“Hey, are you hurt?” Izuku asked gently. She shied away from him. “I-It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help. My name is Izuku.”

Carefully, Eri uncovered her ears. “My arm." She whispered. "It’s not bad.”

“I’ll heal it.” He answered immediately. He picked out the healing quirk that used his own stamina and gently took her arm in his hands. She watched with wide eyes. “There you go, doesn’t hurt as much anymore, huh?”

He distantly heard the sounds of Shouto and Chisaki fighting. He had plenty of faith in his friend’s abilities. He would fare even better than most because his quirk was naturally long-distance, but this was not a fight Shouto needed to fight alone, or at all. They needed to get out of here, soon. 

“You’ve got one like mine.” Eri murmured, innocently amazed.

Izuku pulled his hands away. “What do you mean?”

“You can do it...too, Chisaki said I-I was the only one.” She whispered more to herself than him. Izuku wasn’t sure what that meant, but he pushed it aside, offering his arms to her. 

“Let’s get out of here, okay?” Eri hesitantly nodded, crawling toward him. 

Izuku teleported them back into the fight. The terrain had changed again, painted with ice, scorch marks, and debris. There was a medium-sized glacier on the other edge of the hall and Chisaki wasn’t anywhere to be found.

He deposited Eri on the ground behind Shouto. Izuku fished out his phone and sent a short message to Dad. He didn’t like dragging him into stuff like this, but Shouto was trembling on his feet and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it all the way back to apartment with both of them. If Chisaki decided to chase them, then that certainly wouldn’t be good. 

All he had to do was get above ground so Dad could find them. He could do that. 

Izuku turned back to Shouto. “I’ve got her, come on!” 

Teleporting them both would be pushing the capacity of the quirk, but he could do it. 

He’d save them no matter what.

Shouto was bleeding, a crimson puddle where he had been standing. His right fingers were a pale blue and encased in frost. He stumbled as he noticed them. Before he could say anything, the glacier shattered. 

Eri flinched and latched onto Izuku’s leg. Shouto scowled as Chisaki stepped out. Izuku called upon the telekinesis quirk, holding out his hand as the villain glowed green. He threw him backwards as Chisaki pressed his hand to the wall. 

Columns of concrete stretched from one side into the other wall. Izuku released the quirk on Chisaki to shove Eri out of the way, reaching for the other boy. 

Shouto crashed to the uneven ground with Izuku on top of him as a column shot over their heads and slammed into the opposite wall. For a second they paused, panting and hidden from Chisaki’s sight. 

“Give her back!” Izuku heard Chisaki scream. “You can’t have her!” He sounded like a violent animal, sick and unstable.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” He whispered, glancing down at Shouto’s multicolored eyes. He was bleeding on the right sight of his forehead. The red blended strangely in with the marred skin of his scar, curving around his nose.

Shouto gave him a shaky nod. Izuku crawled off of him toward Eri. She was curled up away from them, hands over her ears again. Thick scars curled around her fingers. 

He had nearly grabbed her when she suddenly screamed and scrambled backwards. Izuku wasn’t sure what it was until he heard a choked gasp of his name and the shink of Shouto’s ice. 

A burst of cold air came from behind him. Izuku twisted around, eyes widening at the sudden ice wall between them. Chisaki’s shadow reflected through the frozen fractures.

Shouto was stretched toward them painfully, his right arm pressed to the base of the newly formed wall. His eyes darted toward them for only a second, as if to make sure they were okay. Izuku grabbed Eri, pushing her behind him as the ice wall cracked and shattered. 

He used Overhaul on it, Izuku noticed a second too late, ice reforming in new, destructive shapes. He activated the rebound quirk to protect himself and Eri, but Shouto was too far away.

Izuku saw the splatter of blood on the concrete before them. It dripped slowly down the pieces as he sluggishly put together where it was coming from.

A choked noise ripped out of Izuku’s throat. "Shouto!" He nearly screeched.

His face crumbled as the ice through his stomach melting in a burst of fire. 

Deafening silence rung in his ears. The delicate flames faded into firefly sparks.

Izuku stared in horror, unable to tear his eyes from the gaping hole through his stomach. Hot tears dripped down his cheeks. The ruined hallway spun. In another second, he was rushing forward to catch him.

“It’s okay, you’ll be fine.” Izuku gasped through heavy sobs. He pressed his hands to the wound and activated every healing quirk he had. 

This couldn’t be happening. 

He wasn’t supposed to get hurt. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. It couldn't end like this.

Izuku couldn’t let him die.

Shouto gave him a soft, weak smile, lazily peering up at him. “You and Eri are okay, right?” 

“Do you see what happens when you run away, Eri?” Chisaki called. His voice startled him. 

Izuku had forgotten he was even there, sniffling miserably as he forcefully pushed the healing quirks to their limit. Shouto wasn’t healing fast enough. Nausea rose in his throat as he hyperventilated through tears. 

“He’s going to die now, because of you.” 

Terror was displayed Eri’s features. Her back was pressed against the wall as she stared, wide-eyed, at the blood pouring out of Shouto. Her entire body trembled.

Numbly, Izuku realized he should say something to her. Everything around him felt far away, muddled and morphed by the time it reached him. His hands were sticky and hot with Shouto’s blood.

“This isn’t your fault.” He managed in a voice that didn’t sound like his. A hiccuped noise cut him off. “D-Don’t listen to him, Eri. He’ll be okay.” 

He had to be. Izuku would not let him die today. 

A surreal calmness had taken control of Shouto. He simply gazed up at Izuku, head rested against a chunk of concrete and unbothered by his blood and tissue spilled across the ground. 

“H-He-“ She choked, hands clamped over her ears again.

Chisaki started to walk toward them. Izuku recounted every quirk he had, trying to decide which one would result in the most painful death. He about to use the telekinesis quirk to grab hold of him and throw him through the ceiling for what he had done, maybe rip a hole through him like he had done to Shouto, but a desperate gasp interrupted them. 

“Don’t!” Eri shrieked. She tripped as she pushed herself between them and Chisaki. She held out her hands, trembling. 

His blurry vision told him she was glowing. He wanted to reach for her and pull her out of the way again, but he didn’t dare deactivate the healing quirks keeping Shouto alive.

“Eri-“

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chisaki snarled.

She shook her head viciously, fat tears falling to the ruined ground. “D-Don’t hurt them anymore!”

The man rushed toward her and Eri tripped backwards, colliding with him and Shouto. 

Izuku tore one hand from Shouto’s wound to throw Chisaki backwards with the telekinesis quirk again. He was distracted from further violence by the sudden warmth that spread through him. He must have activated another quirk. It was one he didn’t recognize immediately.

“Izuku-“ He heard Shouto strained gasp. Dizzily, he noticed the cut on his forehead stitching itself back together. 

“That’s not me...” He murmured, feeling Eri shaking against his side. It couldn’t be him, all of his healing quirks were touch-based. He hadn’t even worried about his head, not with the insides of his stomach strewn across the floor.

A sharp burning to his thigh cut him off. He jerked his attention from Shouto, turning his head to watch the freckled skin knit back together. A regeneration quirk suddenly making an appearance, possibly. 

Why now?

A vice gripped his body. Pain ripped through his veins and he cried out, gripping the remains of Shouto’s shirt tightly. His vision spotted with white as he squeezed his eyes closed. He distantly heard Shouto groan weakly.

“You’re going to kill them, Eri!” Chisaki shouted brutally. He sounded like he was underwater, warbled and broken.

His head was swimming with white-hot pain, everything in him constricting. The aching in his absent wounds was replaced with a full-body burning. He didn’t even know if he was still healing Shouto. All his quirks felt so far away. 

He could hear Eri crying, sobbing with apologies. He could hear Shouto repeating his name like a soft prayer. He heard the crash of something behind him.

Izuku tried to open his eyes, unsure when he had even shut them. Everything blurred and mixed together. His tears must still be falling, but he couldn’t feel them anymore if they rolled thickly down his cheeks. 

Colors waned and sharpened. 

Flashes of quirks, rippling memories of strangers they used to belong to, sensations of using them. He was losing control. 

He could be using all of them or none of them at this instant. Izuku had no idea.

Control felt like silly concept now with the way his body was ripping apart.

Was this Eri’s quirk? 

Izuku tried to say something in return to their scrambled voices, but he didn’t know if he was heard. He didn’t even know what he said, if anything at all.

On the edge of his burning senses he could feel three quirks around him. It was the only grounding thing. He had long since forgotten where he was for the mutilating sensations. 

The quirks twisted, burned. 

He reached for them and pulled.

The suffocating feeling vanished in an echoing heartbeat. 

There were hands on his shoulders, burning the same temperature through his hoodie. He could hear his name on a repeating record beside him; a voice that reminded him of childhood. 

A weight slumped against him, then two. Izuku didn’t register it, relief flooding in him like unconsciousness.

Everything turned black. Sound faded into numbing silence.

He kept the three stolen quirks close to his heart as he faded. 

One of them felt familiar, somehow.

Chapter Text

It was cold. 

Shouto rarely cared enough to make note of the weather. He could manipulate his own temperature to adjust for it, so it never mattered. Usually, he did so automatically. Yet, as he drearily cracked open his eyes, he was instantly aware of the chill in the air.

There was a hollow space in his chest, a twisted attentiveness to temperature across his body.

Stuffy, cold air.

The next thing he noticed, as he blinked up at a humming ceiling fan, was that this was not his room. This was not his bed, nor his clothes, and he was not alone. 

The child from the tunnels was curled up beside him. Her name must be Eri, from the way the masked man’s screeches echoed in his mind. She was fast asleep, relaxed and completely unaware of the unfamiliar room they found themselves in.

From a quick look over, she seemed virtually unharmed, dressed in a black, oversized t-shirt. Her bandages were gone, revealing dark bruises and thick scars across her skeletally thin arms and legs. If he needed any other evidence of what was happening underground, this was it. 

Shouto brushed a piece of pale, untangled hair out of her face. There was something familiar about her and the persistent chill in the air. He found himself looking up at the walls again, surprised they weren’t painted white and empty.

Her horn was gone, too. He nearly thought he imagined it. There was no evidence that it had ever been there to begin with. She looked incredibly normal without it, just a small, sleeping child.

They were squeezed together on a western-style bed against the furthest wall of the room. There was a tall bookshelf full of notebooks and textbooks on the other wall beside a desk that was messily littered with papers and more books, as well as a closed, blinking laptop. It looked lived in, homey, despite the room not having any windows and only a single door.

It definitely didn’t look like the prison cell he expected to wake up in.

Shouto shifted slowly, dampening his headache as he inspected the rest of the room. He noticed a nightstand to the right of the bed. There was a frame upon it that was turned away from him. He reached over Eri and picked up the picture curiously.

It was of two boys, no older than four, smiling together on a colorful, metallic playground. One of them Shouto recognized easily, but the second was a little harder to place. 

Izuku looked nearly the same, with big green eyes and an even bigger smile. His freckles were a little lighter, one tiny hand grasping an All Might figurine and the other boy’s palm firmly in his other.

The other boy, he suddenly realized, must be Bakugou, before whatever turned him into the cursing, fuming teenager happened. He was smiling just as brightly, his blond hair just as spiky as it had been when Shouto met him. The only reason he realized it was the comment the girl made. 

Childhood friends.

Distant voices interrupted his train of thought. Shouto glanced up quickly, grip on the frame tightening, but after a second of listening he realized they weren’t growing any closer. 

The teenager returned the photo to where it belonged. Carefully, as to not disturb Eri, he pushed himself up from the bed. 

Shouto crept toward the door, reaching forward to turn the handle. The teenager tried to summon his quirk closer, in case of whatever he found on the other side of this door, but found it strangely absent. Shouto flexed his fingers and glared down at his hand with furrowed brows.

Despite that, he pulled the door open only to met with an empty hallway. Shouto frowned. He stole a glance back at Eri’s sleeping form, then forward again. He didn’t know where they were, where Izuku had vanished to. He didn’t want to leave her alone here, especially after where she had come from, but he needed to figure out where they were first. She wouldn’t be any help if he brought her along anyway.

He stepped out into the hall, somewhat surprised about how normal it looked. It seemed like it belonged in a regular house or apartment.

Shouto looked down each direction. One way was a dead end and the other led past a few more doors into a more open space. Shouto chose to ignore the doors latter direction and quietly walked toward the open space. His shoes had been removed, so his footsteps were muted on the wood tiles. The teenager stopped at the edge of the wall. 

“He’s awake.” Shouto stiffened, right hand pressed against the wall. His body was taut.

He craved ice, but nothing grew from his skin. Shouto’s nerves grew increasingly more panicked.

“Dad, he can probably hear you.” A familiar voice sighed frustratedly. Footsteps drew closer. “Don’t scare him.”

He couldn’t use his quirk, he realized with a suffocating sense of dread. They were cancelling his quirk somehow, maybe he had been drugged. Whatever the process, he was completely and utterly powerless here. They drew closer, appearing around the corner. 

In a flash, Shouto let out a relieved sigh. His body melted.

Izuku wore a hesitant smile, nervously picking at the scars on his fingers. Before Shouto could stop himself, he bolted forward. The shorter boy let out a surprised squeak as he embraced him, but cautiously returned the gesture.

Shouto wasn’t much of a hugger. He wasn’t sure what spurred him to do that. He was just really glad he was alright and here with him. It would be okay, as long as Izuku stayed by his side.

“Um, Shouto?” Izuku hummed weakly. “Are you okay?”

The taller teenager released him with a frown. “I’m fine, are you okay?” 

Izuku’s face colored red. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine.” He was wearing different clothes as well, a tacky t-shirt and sweatpants. He wrung his hands nervously.

“Are you sure?” He pressed. He knew Izuku liked to put others before him. Surely he couldn’t be completely unscathed after that fight.

The haunting sight of those twisted, glowing quirk effects and his hoarse sobs as he clung to him remained determinedly in the front of Shouto’s mind. Izuku must have felt that burning sensation, too, like someone had gripped his heart in a vice and ripped it in every direction.

When he didn’t answer again, Shouto continued. “I found Eri, but I can’t use my quirk-“ 

Someone cleared their throat, interrupting his explanation. Shouto glanced to his left, momentarily shocked to see a strange couple standing there. He hadn’t even noticed them before, but he distantly remembered Izuku had been talking to someone before he walked up. 

The man was tall, dressed in a dark suit. His hair was curly and messy in the same way Izuku’s was, but chopped shorter than his and a pale white, rather than Izuku’s green. His eyes were so dark red, Shouto nearly thought they were black at first. His skin was dotted with freckles, reminiscent of his friend, with pale scarring around his cheekbones. Everything about the man was threatening, from his emotionless, watchful eyes, to his stiff posture. He made Shouto feel small, although he couldn’t be any larger than his own father.

The woman, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of the man next to her. She was much shorter, even Izuku seemed to have a good several centimeters on her. Her hair was dark green and tied back in a half-up-half-down style. Her eyes were big and round, bright green as well. Her demeanor was warm, welcoming, if not a bit nervous as her eyes flickered between them. 

It took Shouto a breath-stakingly long second, but her familiarity suddenly crashed over him like a tidal wave. 

“You’re the one who attacked All Might.” He murmured carefully. 

She winced as her face colored with a light blush. The man glared at him, casually shifting to put himself between the woman and Shouto.

“I didn’t tell him that.” Izuku defended quickly, clearly puzzled. He looked between them. His neck must hurt from how much he was doing that. 

“I saw a video online.” He explained curtly, narrowing his eyes at the woman.

The man nearly smiled, a sinister, dangerous expression on his face. A chill ran down his spine. The intensity surrounding him was hauntingly familiar. “I thought All Might got rid of all the evidence of that fight.”

“I found it looking up that villain.” He added, turning to Izuku. “All for One.” The shorter boy blushed, looking wide-eyed back at the couple. “Why would he remove evidence of it?”

“All Might wants to be a symbol.” The man answered coolly. “He needs people to blindly put their faith in him. Any weaknesses he ever displayed were...covered up, for the public’s peace of mind.” 

The teenager blinked at him, somewhat off put by the statement. It was true, of course. Heroes were nothing without their publicity, All Might most of all. It was why his father always fell short every year. 

He supposed he never had considered the number one hero might have skeletons in his closet, too. 

“Hisashi, you’re scaring him.” The women scolded, giving the man a sharp look. “Now is not the time to monologue about your hate of All Might.”

Suddenly, a new thought struck him, staring dumbly at the woman while the three seemed to have a silent conversation over his head. 

Midoriya Inko, he realized, who died in that same explosion as Izuku, assumed dead. The article never said anything about her quirk or her job. 

He turned toward the woman, determined. “It’s you.”

Her eyes widened. “Um-“

“You’re All for One.”

An astonished expression flashed across Inko’s face before she suddenly laughed. The man beside her snorted. “Oh, goodness, no!” 

Izuku sighed almost disappointedly beside him and Shouto deflated. “Oh, sorry.”

The man opened his mouth, but Izuku jumped between them. “I want to tell him.”

“Izuku, you can’t tell the son of Endeavor-“

“Let me, please.” He argued, ignoring the man as well as Shouto’s frown at the mention of his father. “He‘ll listen to me, I promise.”

The man looked somewhat torn, dark eyes flickering between him and Izuku. Shouto wasn’t sure what exactly was going on here, but he decided it was probably wise to let Izuku handle it. Shouto knew he didn’t always say the right thing in these types of situations.

It was Inko who spoke first. She gently touched the man’s arm and thinly smiled. “We should go check on Eri. I’m sure she’ll be scared when she wakes up, come on, Hisashi.”

He immediately looked like he wanted to argue, but she sent him a dangerous look and he relented to follow her without complaint down the hallway Shouto had come from.

Shouto finally allowed himself to inspect his surroundings. They were left standing in the middle of a very normal-looking kitchen. It was like an apartment’s layout, with a little dining table and a living room on the other edge of the space. 

“Where are we?” This didn’t exactly look like the yakuza base anymore. He distantly wondered what happened to Chisaki.

“My apartment, I guess.” Izuku answered. “H-Here, we should sit down.” He led him to the couch and sat on one edge while Shouto sat on the other side of him. It would be a domestic setting, if not for everything that happened before he woke up here. 

“Who were they?” He pressed, gesturing to where the couple had left.

“Oh, um, those were my parents. My mom and Dad.” 

That made the physical similarities make more sense. “What happened...Did you teleport us here?” 

Izuku hesitantly shook his head. ”A-After I grabbed Eri, I called my dad to come get us, b-because I didn’t know if I’d be able to get us back. My teleportation quirk really isn’t that strong, it can’t span that far of distances, or that many people at once. B-But then you got hurt and I got distracted and Eri accidentally activated her quirk trying to protect us, I think.” Izuku paused awkwardly, messing with the edge of his shirt. “It’s called Rewind, according to Chisaki. She can rewind human bodies back, as far back as before they’re born, a-apparently. She fixed all our wounds, including yours, but she couldn’t stop it, and she probably would have killed us, so...s-so I took it. I didn’t even realize I did, I, um, didn’t mean to, I passed out afterwards.”

“You...took her quirk?” Shouto clarified, something like nausea seeping into him.

Izuku looked like he didn’t wanted to continue, swallowing harshly. Eventually he nodded, sniffling. “I-I’m sorry I lied to you. I d-didn’t want to! I thought you’d never figure it out.” He continued frantically.

“What did you lie about?” Shouto asked, deathly quiet. 

He couldn’t feel his quirk. His entire body was the same temperature. 

He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. 

Shouto flexed his fingers again, wishing for ice or fire or anything, anything that would prove it was still there.

Nothing came.

He sighed shakily, finally looking up at Shouto. “M-My quirk...it’s not borrowing. I-I can take quirks...and give them. Permanently.

The taller teenager stared at him, frantically searching his face for some evidence of lie.

That was impossible...a quirk like that didn’t exist, couldn’t exist. 

It made sense, though, in some strange way that was Shouto’s train of thought. More than borrowing, at least. The random amount of things he could do, the interest in quirks. He wondered if his easy ability to pick quirks apart was because of his quirk or a learned skill.

Izuku stiffened, bracing himself as he spoke again. “A-And it’s called All for One.”

 “You said you weren’t All for One.” Shouto accused. 

“I’m not.” He shook his head quickly, trying to reassure him. “I promise I’m not...B-But, my father is...was...h-he’s like two hundred years old.” Izuku ended with a short, half-hysterical laugh, like he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.

Shouto found himself speechless, unable to do anything but blankly stare at him. His brain had screeched to a complete halt. Izuku was fully crying now, furiously wiping at his flushed face while trying to still witness his reaction. 

He tried to make his mouth work, tried to string any comprehensive series of words together.

Nothing came.

After a few deathly long moments of silence, the shorter boy tried again. “I-I’m sorry, Sh-Shouto, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t wanna lie, but the heroes would have c-come or- I’m sorry, I just wanted a friend- I-I know you hate me now-“

“I don’t hate you.” Shouto stated suddenly, firmly. Izuku stared at him in disbelief with big, watery eyes. “How could I? I...I think understand why you didn’t tell me...I don’t know if I would have even believed you before anyway. I just need a minute.”

“O-Oh, um...okay.” His breath shuddered.

Shouto stared down at his hands, the same temperature, joined in his lap. He swallowed the lump in his throat, taking another long inspection of the room they were in. Everything was homey, simplistic yet warm at the same time. It didn’t seem like the home of an immortal supervillain.

”Your father...is two hundred years old.” He began slowly.

Izuku nodded wearily.

“He’s a villain.” Shouto continued. He paused to steal a glance at his friend. “Are you a villain?”

His mouth opened immediately to answer, but uncertainty stole his voice. “N-No. Not really. I don’t...I don’t think so. I don’t want to be, but I-I guess the heroes probably would see me as one.”

“The vigilantism, your father makes you do that?” He guessed.

Izuku shook his head. “No! No, it’s my choice. I wanted to, I’ve always wanted to, he just...helped me learn, when I asked. He didn’t make me.”

He gave him an unconvinced look. Shouto had enough experience with forceful fathers, he lived that life. He pieced it together in his mind; Izuku was awkward and jumpy enough. He could recognize the signs.

”He didn’t make me, Shouto.” Izuku insisted. “He’s not like Endeavor. He’s not bad...well, I mean, he used to run like half the villain underground a-and stuff, but he’d never hurt Mom and me. He does it all to protect us and stuff. It...It’s complicated.”

Shouto let it go, for the moment. It would be more obvious when he saw them together, just as he had seen it with Chisaki and Eri. No matter, he wouldn’t leave Izuku alone anymore, especially after he trusted him enough to share all this.

”Why is he a villain then?” He tried.

Izuku cautiously continued, wiping his flushed cheeks. ”He’s, um, been around since the beginning of quirks and then he saw how people reacted to them and how people idolized powerful people, just because of their quirks. He hates hero society....I-I guess, it got worse watching me. I had to pretend to be quirkless in school because of him and all my friends turned on me, as soon as I told them I was quirkless. Then there was, uh, All Might and I don’t know...all that. I think that frustrated him more, how horribly they treated me. .”

“So, heroes like my father, then?” 

“Hates them.” Izuku said with a weak smile. “I actually asked him if he’d kill Endeavor, when we first met, but I figured that wouldn’t be the best approach for your family.”

“I don’t know, I’d be okay with that actually.” He was only partly joking.

Izuku shrugged, moving on. “I can’t say how he used to be before I was born,  but meeting my mom and having me really changed his methods, I think. He, um, also had a younger brother, a long time ago, I don’t know exactly what happened between them, but I know it wasn’t good. That really stuck with him, I guess. I just know Dad wouldn’t ever hurt us.”

Shouto debated over his explanation. He sounded sincere. “But the explosion, that...didn’t kill you and your mother?”

“It was people trying to get to him, they figured out we were connected to him, somehow, and attacked our apartment.” Izuku explained simply, as if he wasn’t discussing his own death. “We were normal before that, but Mom and Dad agreed it wasn’t safe anymore. They pulled me out of school and planted some DNA in the wreckage and that, that was just it.”

“You faked your death.” Shouto concluded quietly. Izuku nodded, sighing shakily. 

He remained silent, soaking all that in. It certainly wasn’t what he had expected when he first saw that article about a dead mother and son. 

“D-Do you want your quirk back?” 

He glanced up in surprise. “You took it?”

“I didn’t mean to.” Izuku repeated, curling his fingers. “I’m not sure what happened, when I was trying to get away from Eri’s quirk, I-I just reached out and grabbed whatever I could. Then when I woke up, I realized I had yours and hers and Chisaki’s, even though I-I don’t know how I got his, he was far away, it’s touch-based, you know, uh-“

“You’re giving it back?” Shouto asked. 

If he could take whatever quirks he wanted, why would he ever willingly give them back? There wasn’t anything Shouto could do about. 

He was quirkless.

Izuku nodded fervently. “Of course, it’s yours!”

The other boy took his hands carefully, like he was asking permission. Shouto gave him a slight nod and a flash of green electricity stretched between them like a spider’s web. Shouto noticed, a second later, the difference in temperature between his hands. Izuku’s right hand felt warm, the left one cooler. His quirk was back. 

For something so significant, it was an ironically simple process.

“How many quirks do you have?” He inquired, refusing to release his hands.

Izuku blushed, busy staring at their joined hands. “Forty-one. A-Actually, forty-three, now that I have Eri‘s and Chisaki’s. Dad’s got a lot more than me, I don’t know how many. I think he might’ve lost count.”

“You can give them, too.” Shouto continued.

Izuku nodded. “Most people can’t handle more than two. Our quirks make our bodies able to handle more than that, but normal people will have pretty bad backlash if you push more than two upon them. Like severe brain damage and stuff.”

He supposed that’s why he never heard of people wandering around with multiple quirks. It was like trading.

Footsteps behind him caused Izuku to pull away. “Is she okay?”

“Still sleeping. I think using her quirk really took a lot out of her.” Inko sighed. Shouto shifted around to look at Izuku’s parents. 

He traced the similarities between them and their son again while they spoke. He wondered how no one had put it together before. Izuku looked very much like a younger version of his father, only with his mother’s darker coloring. 

“Should I give it back?” Izuku suggested.

“Not yet.” His father spoke. All for One, Shouto supplied as he stared up at the man. To be the two-hundred year villain Izuku claimed he was, he looked kind of plain. “She doesn’t know how to handle it. She would probably be in a worse condition if she still had it. It will be safer with you until we can understand how to help her use it better.”

“Y-Yeah, okay.” He agreed with a sigh.

A long pause of silence passed between the family. Shouto sat stiffly on the couch, unsure exactly what to do. He had no idea what time it was. There weren’t any windows or clocks he could see. His clothes had been changed, probably because the last time he had been wearing his school uniform he had been bleeding out. 

Finally, All for One sighed. “Alright, let’s get this over with. Todoroki-“

“No, Dad.” Izuku stood from the couch defiantly. 

“We can’t have him going and telling all that to his father.” All for One answered calmly.

“He wouldn’t!” 

“Izuku’s right.” Shouto added, earning everyone’s attention. All for One seemed annoyed he spoke up at all. “I hate my father.” He wasn’t sure exactly what they were discussing, but that felt like relevant information for everyone to know.

“See!” His friend exclaimed, holding out his hand. “He’d never tell.”

All for One looked unconvinced, but Izuku’s mother interrupted them. “We can discuss this over dinner. There’s no point to arguing about it, and I’m sure you boys are exhausted after today.” She decided with a warm smile in Shouto’s direction. 

He nodded, giving her a small smile and peeking at Izuku. Shouto already liked her. 

Chapter Text

Izuku really hoped he wasn’t muttering. It was a really annoying habit in times like these. He firmly bit his bottom lip, just in case. He really didn’t need anyone listening in on his thoughts right now and he definitely didn’t need Shouto to put together exactly Dad wanted to do. 

Shouto, as outlandish as this all was, was rationally taking this all one step at a time. Izuku supposed that was fair, it was pretty unbelievable.

Nonetheless, it wouldn’t happen. 

Izuku would find a solution, he would fix this. His only friend’s blood would not be on his hands. 

Mom made something out of leftovers for their meal. Dinner was suffocatingly silent. Dad didn’t say a word, besides thanking Mom for the meal. Shouto was naturally quiet. He didn’t even seem very nervous, outside of a few wary glances in his father’s direction.

They hadn’t even discussed what to do with Eri yet, besides the information Dad had gotten from Chisaki. Izuku wasn’t sure if the yakuza member was still alive anymore, either. That possible death really didn’t bother him, not after he watched his mother unwrap Eri and reveal the marks hidden underneath.

Overhaul sat stiffly in the back of Izuku’s mind. He still wasn’t sure how he had grabbed that either. There’s no way Chisaki got close enough for him to touch him. He should mention it, later, once this was all settled. 

Despite Mom’s comment to discuss it, no one said a word for a long time. They ate in relative silence until Shouto suddenly scooted closer to Izuku. “I have to get home for training soon.” He reminded quietly, although his parents could definitely hear him. 

“Training for what, dear?” Mom asked gently. She seemed out of place, unsure exactly how to handle this, especially with Dad glowering beside her. The last time Izuku brought friends home, well, it had been over a decade since that happened. 

Shouto resembled a deer in headlights. He gave Izuku a bewildered look. “You can tell them it all, if you want. It’s not like they’re hero fans.” Izuku encouraged. He didn’t know whether the Todoroki family history would help the situation any, but at least it couldn’t make things any worse.

He really hadn’t gotten that far in his own explanation before Shouto had wandered out and interrupted them. He had only been able to share how he and Shouto met, as well as the events in the tunnels of the yakuza base before Dad had shown up. Shouto’s family history had completely escaped his mind.

A flash of nerves crossed his face before he cooled his features. Shouto returned his attention to his parents, gradually readying himself. With a determined expression, he spoke. “Do you know what quirk marriages are?”

Dad gave him a curt nod. Quirk marriages had been more common in the past, dying out as quirks became more commonplace. Dad had probably seen his fair share of them over the years. On the other hand, Mom’s demeanor shifted slightly, like she could already imagine where Shouto was going. She frowned and allowed Shouto to continue. 

With that, Shouto retold his story very similarly to how he had explained it to Izuku the first time. It was just as sickening to listen to the second time, but Shouto, somehow, sounded less bitter this time. It was more hollow, more like these were simply the facts of life and any emotion on the matter was unnecessary. 

Izuku really needed to refocus his attention on Endeavor’s downfall after this.

Mom, understandably, looked horrified. She appeared like she wanted to cry, but was trying to keep it together for Shouto’s sake. 

His father, as expected, was unreadable. His face didn’t convey much emotion, but Izuku noticed how his grip tightened around his chopsticks, a betrayal of his thoughts. Perhaps he was remembering Izuku’s request about Endeavor, a few months old at this point.

“So, I guess I understand where you’re coming from about heroes.“ Shouto concluded with a half-hearted shrug. He turned toward Izuku again. “Did I tell you my mother wants to meet you?”

Izuku blanched at the suddenly change of topic. “You told her about me?”

“Well, not about the being-dead thing, I haven’t visited since then, but I mentioned you’re why I started visiting again and she insisted I have you come with me some time.” The taller boy explained simplistically. 

He blushed. “Uh, I don’t know, I-I’d love to, but I’m not sure...” Now really wasn’t the time to discuss that. 

His parents exchanged glances before Mom repeated. “So...training?”

“It’s for Yuuei. My father has been pushing me more, recently. I’m taking the recommendation exam soon.” Shouto told them and Izuku gasped. They all looked at him as his face stretched into a grin.

“Yuuei!” He exclaimed. They stared at him wildly for his sudden outburst, but Izuku ignored them. His mutterings restarted in full force.

“What about it?” Dad interjected, reminding him of his company.

Izuku turned toward Shouto. “Your spot at Yuuei is practically guaranteed, right?”

“My father is probably bribing someone for my entrance...so, yes.” He answered, giving Dad a weary glance. “Why?”

The other didn’t answer, turning back to his father. “And you’re looking for a spy, right?”

Dad blinked at him, knitted his eyebrows together. His eyes flickered toward Shouto. “Izuku-“

“It’d be perfect.” Izuku continued, cutting him off before he could argue. “You know Shouto will get in, he’ll even be in the hero course. They might even tell him more because of his father. I can meet him by his house for information or he could meet Tomura if that’s what you really care about.”

“Who’s Tomura?” Shouto asked. He kept turning his head between them like he was watching a extreme tennis match. “And what am I spying for?”

“Us- Dad‘s looking for a mole to give him information on the internal working of Yuuei and it’s employ-“ He began to explain. 

“Izuku.” Dad interrupted firmly. “I understand he’s your friend, but this is a complicated situation.”

“But he’s perfect!” Izuku exclaimed in protest. Shouto’s eyes grew wide. Izuku felt his face heat as his words sunk in. “Y-You know what I, um, mean.”

His father shook his head. “You can’t just volunteer this random boy for this. I’m sure you believe it’s a good idea, but there are methods, making sure everyone involved is-“

“I’ll do it.” 

Dad stopped, clearly irritated after being interrupted again. Izuku exchanged a glance with his mother before gawking at Shouto. 

His mouth was set in a line. That determined air had returned to him as he stared at Japan’s oldest supervillain. 

“I know you don’t trust me, but I do care a lot about your son.” Shouto paused, ignoring the way Izuku’s face flushed. “I’d do it simply for him, if you wanted me to, but I’d also enjoy screwing over my father. Izuku says you want to fix the problems with heroes...the world that allowed men like my father to exist.”

“Shouto...” Izuku began, but whatever he was going to say died in his throat.

“I’ve spent my entire life in the middle of it. I’ve been trained to be the number one hero for as long as I can remember. My father said it was my destiny to surpass him, that I would never make a difference in the world if I didn’t...” Shouto hesitated, glancing down at his calloused hands on the table, covered in faded burns and scars. He almost seemed like he was realizing something himself as he spoke. “But I’ve never actually seen a hero change the world. They just keep it the same, and I...I don’t want to be part of that world. I actually want it to change, so that people like him don’t exist anymore and no one has to go through what my family did. I think I’d have more luck with that on your side, rather than the heroes’.” He finally concluded. 

For his credit, Shouto looked up and met his father’s gaze head on. He had no idea what he was dealing with, but he was confident nonetheless. Izuku knew that was just how Shouto was: blunt and honest in everything he did. 

Izuku curiously peeked at his father, searching again for any indication of his thoughts. Beside him, Mom was close to tears again. Izuku chewed his bottom lip nervously, waiting for an answer from either parent.

Dad broke the silence first with a heavy sigh. He set his chopsticks in his bowl and pushed away from the table. “I think it’s time you should head home, Shouto.”

Izuku’s face fell. “Dad-“

“I’ll handle this, Izuku.” There was a glimpse of a thin smile. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Izuku scoffed, like that reassured him. He was about to put himself between an increasingly confused Shouto and his far too nonchalant father, but a gentle hand on his arm stopped him. 

A horrified, betrayed expression found its way to his features at her intrusion. Mom ignored it, speaking in a caring tone. “Let them go, ‘Zuku. You’ve had a long day, love.”

Dad wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t hurt Izuku like this. 

He hadn’t ever before. He wouldn’t do it now. 

Shouto was the perfect candidate. He would be the best spy Yuuei had ever seen. No one would ever know. He could keep their secrets, he had kept Endevour’s for years. Dad had to realize that.

Izuku surrendered, swallowing. “Okay...” He muttered, trying to keep his vision from growing blurry. “O-Okay. I’ll see you later, Shouto.” He promised, directed over his head.

His father led Shouto to the front door. The other teenager awkwardly waved, evidently realizing that the most dangerous villain in Japan had just offered to bring him home. A burst of twisting black tendrils spiraled from his father’s skin and warped them away in the blink of an eye. 

Izuku exhaled shakily, plopping back down in his seat. He knitted his fingers together in an attempt to stop his hands from shaking. “He’s not going to do anything to him...r-right?” He dared a glimpse of his mother. 

She wore a knowing smile as she stacked their bowls on top of one another. “Oh, no, he wouldn’t dare. I could tell he was surprised by what Shouto said, I’m sure he’d scheming as we speak.”

“You could tell?” 

“Of course. I’ve been married to your father for a long time now, I’ve figured a few things out.” She shrugged. There was nearly a smugness to her demeanor.

Izuku nodded weakly. He let out a shuttering breath, resting his head on his hands. Now that the apartment was quiet and the tension had dispersed, the weight of the day was growing even heavier on his shoulders. He could sense Eri in his bedroom, blissfully asleep. His eyelids drooped with the sounds of his mother cleaning up the dishes.

He definitely wasn’t snoring when Mom reappeared at his side. The table in front of him was now cleared and clean. “You should go to bed.” She ran a hand through his curls softly. 

“I wanna wait up for Dad. He won’t be much longer.”

“Izuku, you fought an awful villain and kidnapped two children today.” She reminded. “He will still be here in the morning and likely have more answers for you once he decides some things for himself.”

He flushed. “I-I didn’t kidnap them...Shouto was willing, at least.” Mom gave him an unimpressed look. “Okay. I’ll go to bed.”

“Good. Eri is still sleeping in there, so if you want to carry her out here in the living room I’ll make sure to watch over her.” Mom said.

“Okay.” Izuku covered his mouth as he yawned. He stood, pausing to stretch before he shuffled toward his room. 

In a moment of hesitation, he stopped. “Mom?”

“Hm?” He heard her in the living room unfolding blankets for Eri. 

Izuku picked at a scar on one of his fingers. He kept his head down, staring at the tiles in the floor. “A-Are you...Aren’t you mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Why?”

“I...” He paused. “I endangered us. I let Shouto find out about us a-and then I got him h-hurt and-“ Izuku sniffled. Mom rushed over and quickly took him into her arms. “I’m bad son a-and an awful f-friend.”

“No! No, no, Izuku, you’re not!” She exclaimed, petting his hair as he cried into her shoulder. “We’re not mad at you. Worried? Yes, very. Frustrated? Yes, but not mad. I’m sure Shouto isn’t either. You just...y-you always try so much and sometimes things get messy. That isn’t your fault. No one blames you for what happened today.” Mom sighed.

“B-But Dad-“ He blubbered. 

She pulled his face from the crook of her neck and cupped his cheeks so they were eye to eye. “Izuku, your father loves you and he understands it’s a difficult situation. Things will work out.” Mom said firmly.

Izuku blinked repeatedly, struggling to make out her details through his tears. He nodded miserably and slouched to embrace her again. He was taller than her, but Mom still held him in her arms like he was a child. 

It was comforting, reminding him of a time when all he had to worry about were the kids at school who made fun of his quirklessness.

Chapter Text

Shouto thought dinner went quite well until he suddenly had All for One teleporting him to an empty street in the middle of the industrial district.

It was nearly dusk. There surroundings were illuminated with golden light. The sun dipped behind old, likely abandoned warehouses and smokestacks turned the darkening sky even darker. Shouto twisted around, grasping for something familiar, but this was clearly nowhere he knew well.

All for One’s teleporting didn’t feel like Izuku’s either, leaving a bitter, slimy taste on his tongue. The teenager ignored the urge to gag, turning to face the villain before him. 

His confidence fizzled.

He liked to believe what Izuku said, but his friend had definitely looked worried before they left. Worried, he suddenly realized, for him. All for One might value the lives of his family, but Shouto definitely wasn’t family. 

He was a threat in the villain’s eyes.

“You said you were taking me home.” Shouto spoke slowly, forcing himself to stare up at the man. He was tall with pale-colored curls floating in the breeze and a narrow, calculating expression on his face. 

That look was familiar, he noted. Shouto had seen that face on his son in the middle of fights. It was dangerous to be on the other side of an expression like that.

The family man, enjoying dinner with his wife and son, was gone.

This was All for One.

This was the villain that instilled hushed, dark Internet rumors, the one that caused that woman to collapse in tears at the sight of anyone who vaguely resembled him. This was the villain that faced All Might, who seemingly escaped that fight unscathed and terrified the hero enough to hide any evidence of it.

“We need to get a few things straight first.” All for One answered finally. He met Shouto’s eyes. A shiver ran up the teenager’s spine. “You certainly said all of the right things tonight.”

“I wasn’t lying.” He bristled. 

“I didn’t say you were. However, I cannot just let you by with a few decent words.” The villain continued. “I won’t lie to you, if I didn’t think Izuku would never forgive me, you would already be dead.”

Shouto‘s blood chilled. He couldn’t use his quirk, he realized, fingers trembling. 

They were far, too far, from any hero agencies Shouto was familiar with. There was nowhere to run. No one would hear his scream, if the villain allowed that at all.

All for One shrugged. “But, lucky for you, Izuku really cares about you and I love my son. He made a decent point. Your relationship with Endeavor puts you in a very desirable position for us. You would make a good spy, if you can be trusted.”

A sinking feeling of relief settled into him. He wouldn’t die tonight, hopefully.

“What do I have to do?” Shouto managed to ask. His voice quivered slightly.

All for One pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Shouto had no idea when he had acquired it, but he handed it over. The teenager took it cautiously, looking over the characters written.

It was a list of heroes. 

They ranged from high-ranking and recognizable ones, like the current number three, Hawks, to other, lesser known ones Shouto didn’t recognize. He read over them, wondering who Eraserhead and Ragdoll were, and what exactly they had done to earn the attention of All for One.

Shouto swallowed the lump in his throat, looking back up at Izuku’s father. “You...want me to kill them?”

The villain blinked at him. Then he laughed. 

Shouto awkwardly stared at the outburst. It reminded him of Izuku, but definitely more unnerving. “Oh, no. I can’t imagine you getting away with a murder of a fly, much less an actual hero.”

“Oh.” Shouto relaxed with an exhale. “Then what?”

“Your father has access to the hero database, doesn’t he? It’s highly secure, since it has a detailed description of every licensed hero’s quirk, family, and residence. I want you to copy the profile of every hero on that list from the database.” All for One explained. “Word for word.” 

Shouto glanced back at the list, then up at the man. That seemed easy enough. All he had to do was walk into his father’s office while he wasn’t home and log into his computer. The password was probably already saved. “Okay.”

“Once that’s done, you can deliver the list to Izuku, he will come visit you in two days. Then, if you pass, we’ll see about the details of your future role at Yuuei.” He said.

“Right.” He read over the names again, pausing. “Can I ask a question?”

“I suppose.”

“My father isn’t on this list. Why not?”

“Because you’re going to tell me where he lives now, so that I can take you home.” All for One returned. 

“Ah.” Shouto answered with his address. 

They appeared a street over from his neighborhood. He glanced in the direction of it, folding the list he had been given again and tucking it away in his pocket. The teenager paused, wondering if he could go home yet or if there was more to his task.

“Shouto, before you go.” The villain called, answering his unspoken question. “It should be obvious, but I’ll remind you. If you decide to tell anyone about anything you’ve been told tonight, anything Izuku has ever told you, then the heroes will become incredibly busy with piecing together all the parts of you scattered across Japan. I’m giving you a chance because of my son, but I won’t hesitate to protect him if needed.”

The boy blinked slowly, trying to not imagine that future. He swallowed roughly and faced the villain completely. “I’m committed to Izuku.” 

Shouto certainly didn’t trust the man before him. It would be a blatant lie if he said that, but he trusted Izuku with his life. That would have to be enough.

All for One gave him a familiar smile. His final word echoed as he vanished. 

“Good.” 

“...a number of other missing persons were also connected to the samples found in the base. Nighteye, along with the assistance of his sidekicks and an Yuuei intern, oversaw the arrests made-“

“That’s insane.” Fuyumi sighed. Shouto jolted, looking blearily from his breakfast to her. Her head was propped on her hand, attention trained on the chattering TV.

“What?” 

“Apparently some yakuza that got busted the other day had this whole underground system no one even knew about.” She gave him a weary smile. “It’s not far from my school. They could have been doing...I don’t know, drug deals or something underneath our feet this whole time.” 

Shouto glanced at the screen again, watching as images of the arrested members flashed. It was then replaced by a video of the police scene, a couple of brightly dressed heroes walking around beside the officers. “As of now, several Shie Hassaikai members remain unaccounted for, including an assumed high-ranked leader known as Chisaki Kai. If you see or hear about the whereabouts of this man, please-“

The next photo they put up must have been a few years old. It was grainy, but showed Chisaki dressed in black and his odd bird mask. Shouto fleetingly wondered where he had vanished to. As much as he tried to remember, he couldn’t. Most of the end of that fight was hazy, at best.

“Um, Shouto?” His sister distracted him. He returned his attention the half-eaten food before him. “Are you feeling okay?”

It was hard to eat when he kept remembering that his stomach had been painfully ruptured just yesterday. There was no evidence of the wound, only a memory of the pain. 

Worse than that, the horrified expression that had marred Izuku’s face wouldn’t leave him alone either. Those tears pouring down his cheeks, the terrified muttering and shaky reassurances. He didn’t remember much after that, thankfully. He didn’t want any more.

“I’m fine.” He managed, eventually. Fuyumi didn’t look very convinced. 

She heaved another sigh, poking at her plate awkwardly. “Your...um, your school called yesterday and said you never showed. I figured you would come home, if you were sick, but you, uh, never did.” 

Shouto blankly stared at her, dimly processing the words with cotton static in his ears. “Did you tell him?”

He was at work, had already been gone by the time Shouto slipped into his room last night and hadn’t returned yet. It was some impromptu mission that the teenager didn’t care to learn any details about. 

His sister stiffened. She quickly shook her head, taken back. “No, no, of course not! I already deleted the message-“

“Thank you.” He interrupted simply.

She didn’t say anything else, awkwardly collecting her plate as she stood from the table. Shouto figured that was the end of it. A conversation that long was already pressing the amount of interaction he generally had with his siblings. He turned his head back toward the TV, but the news had shifted into covering a Edgeshot fight from this morning. Chisaki was already forgotten. 

He slowly registered that they hadn’t said a word about Eri. Or Izuku. 

Or him.

“Hey.” Fuyumi’s voice interrupted his thoughts again. 

“Hm.”

When he looked at his sister, her pale hands were gripping edge of the counter. She shakily exhaled before she looked up at him. “Y-You, You’re okay, right?”

“Of course.” He answered without hesitation. 

It wasn’t a lie, not this time. He was still tired and aching, still mulling slowly about everything he had seen and heard yesterday. He was still stuck in this house, even if the monster wasn’t home right now. 

But hope had reared its head in the form of a crumpled list underneath his pillow. 

It was his key out of here, away from this smoke-filled house. It was his ticket to Izuku. 

Shouto nodded, breathing deeply before giving her a barely-there smile. “I’m okay.”

“Todoroki-kun!” A voice called. Shouto froze in his tracks, open umbrella hanging from his hands. It had been raining all afternoon. He had watched the fat raindrops roll down the window during biology instead of paying attention. 

A tall boy walked over to him, wandering over from the school’s main exit. Shouto boredly met his gaze. According to his uniform, he must be in his class, but Shouto had no idea what his name was. 

“Hello! You weren’t in class Wednesday.” He began, digging out his own umbrella while they stood underneath the school’s roof’s overhang.

“I was sick.” Shouto answered, vaguely remembering that he skipped school Wednesday to confront Izuku. He hadn’t even thought about school that day. 

Today was the last of the two days All for One had given him, yet he hadn’t seen Izuku or his father anywhere. It almost made him paranoid, staring out windows for most of the day instead of listening to whatever his teachers had to say. 

“Right!” The other boy agreed. “Well, you could study with us, if you’d like.” He gestured a bit robotically behind himself. A few boys and girls in matching uniforms stood patiently by the doors, watching them talk like they were an incredibly interesting television show.

Shouto suppressed the urge to roll his eyes as one of the girls wandered over. She patted the tall boy’s arm, giving Shouto a weary look. “Can we go now, Iida? Clearly he doesn’t want to.”

Iida opened his mouth to argue, but Shouto interrupted him. “She’s right. I’m fine.” He said, moving to hold his umbrella over his head. Without another word, he walked out into the rain. 

He distantly heard them making comments, Iida’s authoritative voice was unmistakable. Shouto scoffed, tugging his bag closer under the umbrella. 

The rain deterred him from making any stops on the way home. Usually he liked to take the long way around, anything to avoid being home longer than necessary, but the weather was even more annoying. To top it off, he still didn’t see any signs of Izuku. 

Shouto was halfway to his neighborhood when he paused on the edge of a crosswalk. He silently watched the cars speed past, raindrops splattering on windshields. His gaze flickered across the road where he noticed another shadow standing under the awning of a cafe a few doors away. They were the only two left on the street. 

The light overhead changed and the cars slowed to a stop. Shouto continued walking, skipping over a rippling puddle. His distant companion went the other direction.

In the shade of the surrounding buildings, someone tugged the edge of his bag. He turned on his heel, gripping his umbrella and reaching out with his left. 

A living shadow leered down at him. He stilled, staring up at what he assumed was its face. The edge of dark umbrella and thick downpour hid it from a distance, but up close it was unsettlingly obvious that there was no face. Purple energy warped around what would be a head and hands. The only indication of eyes was two, rippling yellow streaks. They wore a painfully generic suit and a striped tie.

“Are you Todoroki Shouto?” They asked, a deeper voice that made him think they might be a man, or was one once. Shouto slowly nodded, fingers curling in case of attack. 

There was none. The shadow merely gestured its head toward another side street. “This way.” They didn’t pause to make sure Shouto was following, but instead led even further from any potential witnesses.

The teenager hesitated for a split moment before he rushed to follow the stranger. He cleared his throat, peered at their increasingly more isolated surroundings. “Are you...Do you know Izuku?” He tried.

The shadow stopped, tilting their umbrella so they could look down at Shouto. “I do, but I’m more of a friend of his father’s.”

Oh. 

Shouto straightened up. “I have the list for you.” He began, twisting around and trying to reach inside his bag without getting soaked. 

“Don’t, I’m just taking you to meet them, you can give it to them.” They explained. “My quirk is called Warp Gate, I can warp people and items based on coordinates. It can be somewhat jarring for those not used to it, are you ready?”

“Sure.”

On command, a swirling portal opened behind the shadow. Shouto blinked dumbly at it, then glanced back at them. “After you.”

He nodded again, more firmly, and tightened his grip on the handle of his umbrella. Shouto took a deep breath and stepped forward into the darkness without hesitation. 

Chapter Text

“Did we have to do this in the rain?” Tomura muttered miserably as Kuroguri’s warp gate opened and expanded. A few stray raindrops spilled out onto the wood floorboards. 

Izuku stole a glance toward Dad. His father didn’t answer with anything more than a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest as he diverted his attention toward the newly formed portal.

A second later, a wild-eyed Shouto stumbled through the warp gate. He nearly dropped his umbrella as he whirled around and squinted at his new surroundings. In his defense, the bar was low-lit and probably not where he had imagined he’d appear after stepping through that portal. 

Izuku resisted the urge to rush forward and embrace him. He gripped the edge of his barstool to stop himself. 

Dad had been clear about how they were addressing this. Everything was up to Shouto right now. Once everything was said and done, Izuku could hug him all he wanted. The green-haired teenager blushed at his thoughts, suddenly glad that the bar was dark enough to hide the color in his cheeks.

Kuroguri appeared through the portal behind him. The warp gate vanished with a whoosh. He gently pried Shouto’s umbrella from his hand, closing it politely and setting it aside with his own. 

“Thank you for delivering him, Kuroguri.” Dad greeted pleasantly, although he used his typical work tone. It nearly made Izuku want to laugh, but he bit his tongue as Shouto finally spotted him. 

There was something satisfying in watching Shouto relax at the sight of him. His gaze softened and Izuku felt himself flush a deeper red. He waved shyly at his friend. 

He heard Tomura scoff from the stool behind him and Izuku tore his attention away from his friend to send the blue-haired man a sharp scowl. Some part of him smirked in the way Tomura stiffened. He supposed resembling his dad was fairly helpful in situations like this. 

“Shouto, do you have what I asked for?” Dad stepped forward. He held out his hand expectantly, leaving no room for excuses.

“Oh...um, yes.” He scrambled to dig through his bag and fished out a notebook. While he flipped through it, Kuroguri slipped around him and joined Izuku and Tomura behind the bar. 

“Is he okay?” Izuku murmured to the warper. 

Kuroguri nodded. “A bit quiet, but he went along and alone without any hesitation. His school is rather nice.” Tomura sighed dramatically as he adjusted the rotting hand on his face. If anyone here embodied the stereotypical villain, it was certainly Tomura. 

“This all looks correct.” Dad hummed once he flipped through the papers he was offered. “Good job, you did exactly what I asked.” He concluded by ripping the pages down the middle. 

Shouto blinked at him. He dumbly watched the halves of paper go up in white flames. “...Why,” He began slowly, eyebrows furrowed in an adorably thoughtful expression. “Why would you ask for information about heroes if you already knew it?” He nearly sounded offended. 

“It wasn’t about the information, Shouto. The least competent hacker in the world could get that. It was a matter of following directions.” Dad returned. “I have no doubts that you can get the information, loyalty is what I‘m looking for. Luckily, you’ve shown that today.” 

Izuku‘s face split into a grin at the words. He hopped off his stool and teleported the rest of the distance of the room to him. Shouto jolted slightly as he appeared in front of him and surged forward to hug him. The taller teenager let out a small, strangled gasp and Izuku sighed in relief. He rested his head on his shoulder for a moment, ignoring Tomura’s snicker from behind him. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Izuku breathed. “And that you’re here.”

Shouto relaxed. He felt his arms slowly rise to return the hug. “Thanks...I am, too.” 

Izuku eventually let him go while resisting the urge to wipe at his face. Dad nonchalantly passed him a tissue from his suit jacket’s pocket and he murmured a thanks. 

His worries unceremoniously crashed with Shouto finally standing before him again. Those sickening thoughts of losing his first and closest friend lingered like a bad taste in his mouth. Izuku took a deep, steadying breath and gave him another smile.

“So...I passed?” Shouto clarified. His multicolored eyes flickered from Izuku to his father. 

“Yeah!” The shorter boy exclaimed. “You did great!”

A sinking relief visibly passed over his features. “Oh, good.”

“Some introductions are in order.” Dad continued, gesturing to where Tomura glared at them. “This is Shigaraki Tomura, and you already met Kuroguri. Publicly, when the time comes, Tomura is your closest ally.”

“What’s the deal with all the hands?” Shouto asked quietly, leaning over closer to Izuku’s ear. 

The shorter boy glimpsed at him. Izuku nearly laughed aloud at the weary look he was currently giving Tomura. He shrugged. “Childhood trauma.” 

“Ah.”

The blue-haired man pushed himself off his barstool, holding out his hands dramatically. “I’m the future leader of the League of Villains, All for One’s successor.” He announced smugly. 

“What’s the League of Villains?” Shouto deadpanned. Tomura straightened and scowled at him, or he assumed he did behind the severed hand. Izuku choked on his laughter, hiding his grin behind his hand. 

“I came up with the name.” He argued, neatly adjusting one of the hands gripping his arm. “Sensei says we’ll be public in less than a year. The heroes won’t know what to do with us.” 

“Right...” The red-and-white-haired teenager looked unconvinced. “Why can’t I just talk to you?” He turned toward Izuku and Dad, who looked somewhat bored with the conversation. 

“The League will be a legitimate organization in a few months. We’re hoping your information once you start at Yuuei will be the key to moving forward.” Dad explained. “Idealistically, the next several months could be the beginning of the end of this era.” 

“Also, I’m dead.” Izuku added at Shouto’s overwhelmed expression. “Tomura and the League is just your public image, I’ll probably still be the one you talk to the most.” He had made sure that would be true. There wasn’t any point if he wasn’t going to be allowed to spend time with Shouto anymore.

“Don’t concern yourself with the details of the League, they’re still ongoing. Your biggest priority is making sure you actually get into Yuuei and avoiding any suspicion.” His father concluded. 

Shouto nodded. “Okay.” 

Tomura huffed, clearly growing frustrated with being ignored. “Sensei, I have a question.” Dad nodded for him to continue. “Why is he the spy? It makes no sense!”

Izuku rolled his eyes, tugging Shouto by the hand toward the bar. “He gets like this a lot.” He explained. 

“He’s our age, right?” 

The shorter teenager blinked at him, then back at where Tomura was arguing with his father. “Tomura is nineteen.”

“You’re kidding.” 

Izuku shook his head. “He, uh, doesn’t like me very much. That’s probably why he doesn’t like you either, you’re my friend.” 

Tomura was like an older brother in how he was always fighting for attention from Dad. The only problem was that he wasn’t actually his brother and could never compete with Izuku in Dad’s eyes. He probably would have already attempted murder if he didn’t know that Izuku could easily take his quirk and put him in his place, if needed. Not to mention what Dad would do in that situation. 

“Right, well, does anyone have any other questions?” His father called. Tomura lingered at his side, frustrated but silent. 

Shouto cautiously raised his hand. “Who’s the Sensei he keeps talking about?”

Tomura let out an offended scoff, pointing at his father. “Him, obviously!” 

His friend gave him another speculative look and Izuku resisted the urge to laugh. “I just call him Dad. I don’t know where the Sensei thing came from.”

Dad smiled slightly. “If that’s all, then I suppose it’s time we take our leave. Shouto, we’ll be in contact. Kuroguri, will you prepare a warp to our and Shouto’s homes?“

“Wait!” Izuku dropped to his feet, turning to face Shouto again. “You’ve got to come visit Eri first! She just woke up yesterday and she’s been asking about you. Dad, he can come for a little bit, right?” 

Before he could answer, Shouto perked up, leaning forward on his stool. “She’s okay?”

“Yeah! I gave back her quirk and everything! She can’t use it that well, yet, but we’re going to work on it-“ He took a breath as Dad put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Then only a warp to our home, Kuroguri.” He relented. Izuku brightened, offering a hand to Shouto as another one of Kuroguri’s portals opened. Tomura muttered a goodbye to them, but Izuku ignored him for the friend at his side. 

“Mom!” Izuku called as he landed soundly in their living room. Shouto squeezed his hand, letting out a grunt as he inspecting their new surroundings. “We’re back! And we brought Shouto!” 

“I like your teleporting much better.” He muttered, somewhere close to Izuku’s ear.

The shorter boy smiled with a shrug. “That quirk is meant to be gentler, it’s one of the first my dad gave me.” 

A little gasp interrupted them. In the kitchen, balanced on one of the barstools, was Eri. She was dressed in a lemon yellow dress from the collection of clothes Mom bought when she went out yesterday. Her hair had even been braided back behind her stubby horn, kept in place with several colorful bobby-pins. 

They definitely hadn’t been expecting the sudden addition to the household, but Eri had quickly wormed her way into their lives. Dad might have been trying to remain nonchalant about her as he handled other things, but Mom already loved her, so she would undoubtedly win Dad over soon as well. Adoption had been a last night conversation topic, after they assumed Izuku was already asleep. 

Their apartment-basement only had two bedrooms, so Eri had accumulated a nice collection of extra blankets and pillows on the couch. Although, she ended last night in his room, still trembling from the memories of her nightmares. 

“Oh, hello, boys!” Mom cheerily greeted. The kitchen counters were littered with baking ingredients. A large bowl of apples sat in front of the stool beside Eri’s. “It’s nice to see you again, Shouto. Everything went well?” 

Shouto looked a little surprised at the sudden question, nodding awkwardly. Dad slipped past them to press a kiss to Mom’s cheek. Izuku caught Eri’s eye, who was curiously debating between watching his parents or watching Izuku and Shouto. He made an exaggerated, disgusted expression at their gesture, earning an even more puzzled look from the girl. 

“Tomura wasn’t extremely pleased, but he‘ll get over it.” Dad shrugged. He leaned over Mom’s shoulder. “How‘s the baking going?”

“Great! You’re just in time to-” She stopped as Eri suddenly hopped off her stool. She shuffled over to Shouto and Izuku with her head tilted back to peer up at them. 

“You’re back.” Eri spoke so quietly that Izuku barely heard her.

He moved to kneel before her, but Shouto beat him to it. He leaned down to her height. “Of course we are. Are you...feeling better?” She hesitated for a moment, but nodded. Shouto tapped the right side of his head. “You’ve got your horn again.” 

“Izu-kun gave it back.” Eri said. Whether she realized that her quirk went with it, he didn’t know.

The first day she woke, she had been dazed, disoriented, and a bit feverish, but being without her quirk combined with Mom’s careful watch she recovered quickly. Izuku had only given back Rewind this morning, before he had left with Dad to meet with Tomura and Kuroguri. 

“Ah. Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” Shouto said after a moment of silence. He seemed to suddenly notice that everyone’s attention was focused solely on him and Eri. “What are you two doing then?” He continued awkwardly.

The girl looked unsure. Her eyes grew wide.

Mom swooped in to save her with a warm, encouraging smile. “Well, Eri told us yesterday that her favorite snack was apples! So, I suggested trying out an apple pie recipe, I thought we’d get started before you got back, but...” She trailed off, abruptly sending Dad a look that portrayed the unsaid.

Shouto opened his mouth to ask, the tense atmosphere lost on him, but Izuku spoke before he could. “We can help then!” He leaned down a little. “I’m not very good at cooking, but I’m sure we can be a little useful. Is that okay with you, Eri?”

“Help...” Eri echoed. Her face furrowed as she thought it over. Eventually, she nodded again. “Yeah. That’s okay.”

Izuku grinned and faced his mother. “What first then?”

Chapter Text

If someone had asked him the moment he met that shadowy man what he thought he would be doing that afternoon, Shouto would have assumed it would be some inauguration for his new position as the unofficial spy of Yuuei. 

Perhaps a murder.

Instead, he found himself seated at an incredibly ordinary dining table in an incredibly ordinary kitchen, neatly peeling his second apple, with his only friend on one side of him and an immortal supervillain on the other. Shouto stabbed the skinless apple and started to slice it into pieces. 

Izuku and his father were much better at chopping than him. All for One seemed to be, oddly, a decent cook. The shorter teenager had only muttered something about a pink apron and for Shouto to be glad. On the other hand, he was pretty sure Izuku was just good with knives.

Shouto didn’t know much about baking, but he knew it didn’t take four and half people, because Eri didn’t really count with her job of lazily stirring the mix of cinnamon and sugar, to bake a pie. However, he was sure he’d do anything for Eri at this point and the Midoriyas were clearly keeping him in their line of sight, so he shut his mouth and completed every task Inko gave him. He had already taken an icicle to the stomach, helping out in the kitchen was nothing. 

“Did Mom say what happened?” Izuku finally broke the silence, directing his attention toward All for One. 

“Nothing specific. An episode, I imagine.” The villain answered. Their voices remained low, unnoticed by Inko and Eri in the kitchen. “From what Chisaki admitted, she lived a very harsh and traumatic life until you found her. It will take time for her to open up to us.” 

“You talked to Chisaki?” Shouto interrupted, suddenly recalling the news report.

“I did.” All for One offered no further explanation.

Izuku leaned forward. His eyes lit up excitedly. “But you decided? She’s staying with us?” Shouto furrowed his eyebrows. He was started to understand Tomura’s frustration with All for One’s favoritism. 

“As of now, probably. There’s nowhere else for her to go.”

“I’m confused.” Shouto announced bluntly. 

Izuku laughed at his abruptness, scraping the diced pieces of his apple into the large bowl in the center of the table before grabbing a new one. “My parents have been debating about what to do with Eri, now that she’s awake. I think we should adopt her.”

“And we both said that’s a considerable responsibility to take on right now.” All for One said in a painfully domestic tone. His eyes flickered back toward Shouto. “Chisaki kindly explained to me that Eri was the granddaughter of his boss, the previous leader of the yakuza. My contact in the police force told me that he was killed during your fight with Chisaki.”

Shouto paled. He tried to recall all the details of that fight, but couldn’t remember encountering anyone beyond Chisaki. He looked down at his hands as he understood the statement. 

The man died because of them. Eri’s family, nonetheless what they did to her, was dead because of them. Even if it was a mistake, even that it was for the best, his mouth grew dry,

Izuku reached over and rested his hand over Shouto’s. He flinched slightly, glancing up and noticing his sympathetic expression. His touch was soothing, too. Whether that was the work of a quirk or not, he didn’t know. 

“It was an accident.” Izuku explained with a muted, reassuring smile. “Overhaul is a widespread quirk, it knocked out some of the power underground and the yakuza boss was connected to life-support that failed. Apparently, he had been sick for a while. It wasn’t our fault.”

“Anyway,” All for One continued. “That’s the only relative of Eri we can find. Her parents are long gone, either dead or alive, who knows. She doesn’t remember them either. She doesn’t have anyone else.”

“I see.” Shouto murmured. He paused in his chopping to watch the young girl. She had shaken the silence from before, currently sitting on the counter to watch Inko inquisitively.

“I think we should adopt her.” His friend returned matter-of-factly. “Who else besides us could ever help her learn to control her quirk?” Izuku stood from his chair once he was finished. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Then he picked up the bowl of his apple chunks and left them to deliver it to his mother and Eri.

Shouto awkwardly glanced at the supervillain to his right. All for One seemed unconcerned with him, fully focused on his peeling and the conversation that had sparked between Izuku, Inko, and Eri in the kitchen. 

“I have a question.” Blood-colored eyes met his. Shouto looked back at his hands quickly so he didn’t cut himself. “About something...Tomura said.”

“Yes?” His blank expression was unnerving, especially compared to his son.

“He said he was your successor.” Shouto stated. “What about Izuku?” 

“What about him?”

Lively laughter echoed from the kitchen. He was distracted by it for a moment, sorting out his thoughts. “It doesn’t make sense...” Shouto internally cringed at the fact that he had just called a supervillain’s plans impractical. “Izuku is your son, he has your quirk, why would Tomura act like he’s your successor?”

All for One didn’t seem offended about the comment. He paused, gaze torn from his family to stare at him. “I’m not sure if Izuku told you, but I’m two hundred and seven years old. I have no need for a successor. Tomura will serve a purpose, as will you. Whatever he wants to call himself doesn’t matter to me.”

Shouto blinked, hesitating with his knife in the air above the last slice. He assumed, yes, that All for One possessed some type of immortality quirk, but clearly Tomura didn’t seem to understand his job like Shouto did. He remembered the villain’s general boredom at Tomura’s comments and questions, like he was a toy he was tired of playing with. 

“What about Izuku?” 

Shouto had a purpose, as did Tomura, but All for One never mentioned Izuku’s purpose. Izuku clearly loved his father, in a way Shouto didn’t understand, but couldn’t question. Yet, if he was being manipulated like All for One was implying... 

A wave of protectiveness flooded him, even if it wouldn’t matter in the long run.

All for One looked unconcerned. “He’s my son. I love him.” He answered simply.

“He’s your successor, then?”

“No. Izuku is my son. Contrary to what Endeavor may teach you, I’ve never seen the ability to have both within one person. One aspect would always fall short.” He said. “Everything Izuku does, his minimal involvement with the League, the vigilantism, has been of his own volition. I’ve never forced him to be involved, he asked.”

It made sense in principle, he supposed. If it was true. It was hard to imagine a villain like this could maintain love and support of his son no matter the circumstances. Shouto comically wondered what would happen if Izuku had ended up on the hero’s path. 

Nonetheless, what he said about successors; Shouto didn’t understand that either. Surely he’d want to push him to be better, push Izuku to be better than he had ever been. 

Why even have a child, or adopt one like Eri, if not to benefit himself in the future in some way? 

“Hey, are you done with your apples?” Izuku’s cheery voice interrupted Shouto’s musing. 

He glanced at his hands and realized he had stopped cutting a long time ago. “In a minute.” Shouto murmured as he returned to his menial task. 

All for One passed over his slices, unbothered. There was no hidden meaning behind the smile he sent Izuku, no underlying emotion in his dark eyes. He looked happy somehow. 

What a strange family.

Inko sent an extra piece of pie with Shouto when he went home. It was wrapped in shiny tin foil, something easy to dispose of once he was done. 

The next week passed without much preamble. He didn’t visit the Midoriyas again and only saw Izuku once, who happily told him his parents were probably, absolutely going to adopt Eri. The good thing was that Eri had virtually no preexisting paperwork or registration to her name to worry about.The heroes investigating the yakuza didn’t know about her, no missing persons reports. 

She, in the government’s eyes, didn’t exist. 

It was perfect for a family made up of two dead people and an abroad businessman. Izuku was really excited about it, at least.

Shouto was glad, too. Eri deserved a nice family, people who would take care of her and help her learn how to safely use her quirk. One night in the Midoriyas’ home proved that they would be perfect for her. Izuku would be a wonderful brother.

“Next stop, Shizuoka Prefecture; Yuuei High School.” Shouto glanced away from the window. 

It was mid-morning. The majority of the city was already in school or at work. It left his car was mostly empty, besides a girl with dark hair sitting in a seat in the back. She had offered him a smile when she boarded, but made no further effort to interact with him since then. 

The train coasted to a stop and Shouto stood. He shuffled out of the doors, slipping past the stray strangers waiting for their own trains to arrive. 

He tried to seem inconspicuous as he made his way to his future high school. It was somewhat difficult, always attracting stares with his incredibly obnoxious hair and scars. He wondered if he should start wearing a hood all the time like Izuku did. Maybe he could dye his hair. 

Shouto paused at the gates to stare up at the school. Yuuei was primarily four glass buildings, sweeping green patches, and crisscrossing slate sidewalks. There were smaller buildings between the looming towers, but they felt insignificant to the rest of campus.

“Hey!” A loud voice called. Shouto jolted, twisting on his heel. He faced a large, broad boy in a blue tracksuit.

His head was buzzed with a hint of dark peach fuzz. His smile was wide, eyes nearly ecstatic as he stared down Shouto. He wasn’t wearing a school uniform, so Shouto had no idea whether he was supposed to know him or not. “Hello?” He tried.

The boy grinned wider. “You’re Endeavor’s son!” 

Shouto resisted the urge to cringe. He sighed lowly. The importance of today outshined his hatred for his father, it could be ignored for the sake of appearances. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent most of his life pretending to be a happy family in front of the cameras. He was a learned actor. “That’s me.”

“You’re here for the exam, right?” He practically shouted over his head. 

“Yes.”

“Awesome, me, too!” He exclaimed. “I’m Yoarashi Inasa!” 

“Todoroki Shouto.” He answered for formality. If Yoarashi knew his father or worse, was a fan, then he probably knew his name already. 

He kept walking past Shouto, but glanced over his shoulder like he wanted him to keep up and slowed his long strides for a single moment. Shouto silently followed. They paused to scan their temporary exam passes and finally passed through the gates. 

He stared up at the trees while they walked, unsure if he should try to say something else to the stranger at his side. All for One emphasized trust and developing relationships with classmates as well as teachers. It would only be more helpful when the time came.

“You know,” Yoarashi began. “I used to really like Endeavor. I mean, he had that hot spirit heroes need; the motivation, right?”

Shouto wasn’t sure where this was going, but tilted his head to entertain him anyway. “I guess so.” He definitely wouldn’t describe his father like that.

Yoarashi continued without much pause at his response. “But then I met him when I was a kid and he was a real asshole.”

He nearly choked on a breath of air, a surprised chuckle escaping him. Shouto forced his reaction under control, a wild smile persistently sticking to his face. “I understand what you mean.” He said simply.

The other boy laughed loudly, face splitting into a smile. “Man, I thought you’d be just like him, but you’re all quiet and chill! It‘s so weird.”

“It is.” He mused quietly.

Yoarashi was in his group for the practical part of the exam. The dark-haired girl from the train was also there, furthest away from him in the row of students standing before start line. After the buzzer went off, Shouto didn’t see her again. He fleetingly wondered if she had passed or not. 

The obstacle race itself was easy. 

Using his flames with Yoarashi was complicated, especially since he was lacking with his fine control of that aspect of his quirk. They cancelled out each other a few times, but Shouto managed to secure second place behind Yoarashi.

That was good enough for him. Yuuei had four recommendations spots between the two hero classes. Second place with the combination of his father’s influence should be enough to secure his spot. Not that he had any doubts before.

Yoarashi was overly friendly with everyone. He yelled at some girl with green hair in between the practical and paper parts of the exams. He wandered around to just about everyone else at some point during the exam. Shouto supposed he was glad Yoarashi didn’t talk about his father anymore. Even if they had similar opinions, they weren’t for the same reasons and he had no desire to make close friends like the other seemingly wanted to. 

He was here for a reason. His loyalties already belonged to someone else. 

Shouto lazily strolled back to the train station he had arrived at several hours ago. He tucked his hands in his pockets and a sigh escaped him. 

Something suddenly tugged on his bag. He turned curiously, only to find an empty sidewalk behind him. The nearest people were those sitting at the outdoor tables of a cafe across the street. Shouto narrowed his eyes. There was that girl from the exam who could split herself into pieces, maybe it was a prank.

“Shouto.” A familiar voice called quietly behind him. Shouto’s heart fluttered, a small smile gracing his lips as he twisted and met emerald eyes. Izuku smiled, face half visible beneath a faded All Might hoodie. “Hi, stranger.”

“Hello.” He returned. His eyes filtered to the cafe nervously.

“They can’t see us.” Izuku said, pulling down his dandelion yellow hood. “My dad gave me a new quirk, it’s called See Me Not. No one will recognize us unless they have previous knowledge of us being here.” He could hear in his tone how excited he was about it. “Do you have time to talk?”

“I’m not supposed to be home for another couple of hours.” The test had wrapped up earlier than expected, so Shouto had nowhere to be besides with Izuku. “Do you want to hear about some of the quirks I saw today?”

His eyes lit up as he grinned. “Yes, please.”

“So like a starfish?” Izuku inquired. He tapped his chin with his pencil while he scribbled down the new quirks. 

“I guess so.” He shrugged in answer. “She reminded me of a lizard.”

“A quirk like that has pretty good surveillance and spying possibilities, though.” Izuku continued. “If she can split her body into really small parts, then it’s perfect, but of course, it’s probably limited by the durability and time limit. You should try and figure out some of her weaknesses. It’s possible that if certain parts are separated for too long, then it becomes dead weight. I wonder if smaller pieces last longer than larger ones; no wait that wouldn’t make sense-“

His words dissolved into muttering quickly. Shouto didn’t bother to stop him, smiling softly as Izuku stared at the increasingly golden sky and talked to himself. Eventually he silenced himself, apparently finding his own answer and writing it in the spot below the lizard-like quirk’s entry. 

“Were those all the quirks you saw?” He asked. 

“I think so.” Shouto mused. “There were other competitors, but I wasn’t really paying attention to them. They probably won’t pass anyway so it won’t matter.”

He shrugged, tucking his pen in the pages and setting aside the book. “I wouldn’t say that. Even if they fail the recommendations exam, some students may try out in the regular admissions exam or go to other hero schools. Or they might drop out and defer to us.“

“Really?” He asked, looking over at Izuku. “Are there that many villain hero school dropouts?” 

Shouto assumed switching sides wasn’t that common. It wasn’t like most heroes had the reasons he did. He couldn’t ever imagine someone like his father becoming a villain.

“It’s pretty common actually.” Izuku answered, contrary of his thoughts. “They get frustrated with the schools or the process and decide to take the easier route to unrestricted quirk use, I guess. None of them usually last that long, but they add to the numbers, at least.”

“Hm.” He hummed noncommittally. 

He never really had that problem. Failure was never an option for him. Even today, if he had failed the exam, surely his father would have figured out another way or sent him to the regular exam with rougher training in the days leading up to it. Others didn’t have that awful luxury. Shouto already gladly threw that opportunity away by meeting Izuku. 

He gave the other a side glance. Suddenly, another thought made itself known. He vaguely remembered a conversation about it once, but never a specific answer. 

“Is that why you didn’t want to be a hero?” Shouto asked. 

Izuku stiffened. A bewildered look crossed his face. “My father is a two hundred year old leader of the underground with a rare and obvious quirk. It’s not like I could walk into Yuuei and apply.”

“But if most people think he died decades ago, then there shouldn’t be any issues, right?” He pressed. “You could tell them you were a borrower, like you told me.”

He shook his head firmly. “No. All Might knows about my dad, plus whoever else he told. The Heroes Commission would never allow someone like me to exist, much less be a hero.”

“How does All Might know?” Shouto curiously inspected his hoodie. It blended in with their age, probably the last thing people would expect a villain’s son to wear. 

It felt out of place on Izuku.

Izuku picked at the callouses on his fingers. “It’s got to do with my uncle’s quirk. It’s like the opposite of mine and Dad’s. All Might was given it and told the story of the early quirk days and everything. It’s a whole, complicated ordeal.”

“You have an uncle?”

He snorted. “Had. I never met him. He’s been dead for like two centuries at this point, but anyway, yeah.”

“That’s very strange.” Shouto admitted. He used to think his family had problems, but at least those didn’t span centuries. “But I guess if I can believe taking and giving quirks, I can believe that.” 

Izuku gave him an almost thankful smile. He tilted his head back and sighed as he looked up at the puffy clouds. Silence passed for a single beat before he spoke again. “Besides, All Might would recognize me. We’ve met before.”

“Because of your father?”

“No. Dad was actually away on work at the time. In the States.” Something in his voice sounded hollow, like these were painful, far away memories. Before Shouto could tell him to stop, he continued. “I spent all my life pretending I was quirkless so that no one suspected anything. The kids in my school hated me because of it... only because of a lie I told them. They beat me up and told me to kill myself almost daily.”

Deku. “Izuku-“

“No, wait, let me keep going.” He insisted, eyes fluttering shut. “All Might rescued me by complete accident. Really, he just intervened before I used one of my quirks, but it didn’t matter. I loved heroes and All Might was my favorite of them all. My room was covered in his face.” Izuku admitted in a bittersweet tone, pointing at his hoodie. “I didn’t know anything about how he hated Dad or the details of my uncle’s quirk and All Might didn’t know I existed. He kept it from me because he knew I loved heroes and didn’t want to influence me or something.”

“He found out.” Shouto filled in softly. 

Izuku shook his head again. “No. I asked All Might if he thought that someone who was quirkless could be a hero and he told me to be realistic, like I was out of my mind.” 

“But you’re not quirkless.” 

“It didn’t matter. If I was going to be hero, I’d have to be.” He laughed weakly. “All Might didn’t even care. He didn’t recognize me, he didn’t know that I was lying, but he took my dreams and crushed them with one sentence.”

Shouto allowed him his moment of silence. Izuku breathed shakily like he might cry. “What happened then?”

“The villain who attacked me escaped and tried to attack Kacchan, er- Katsuki, my childhood friend who actually hated me, but anyway. The whole time, all the pros just stood there and watched him suffocate. They didn’t care that Kacchan was dying, too stuck in their own heads.” Izuku told him distantly. He was staring at something far away. 

“He didn’t die, though.” He had met the formable Bakugou Katsuki less than a month ago. 

“I know. I saved him. I snuck up behind the villain and took his quirk while everyone was distracted. It was some type of transformation slime quirk, it doesn’t matter.” He explained. “That was probably the first time in years I used my quirk to save someone. My real quirk.”

“They didn’t realize the villain’s quirk was missing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I went home before I could ask, the heroes were all too busy praising Kacchan for not dying to notice.” Izuku shrugged. 

He fleetingly was reminded of Yoarashi. “All Might sounds like an asshole.” 

Izuku erupted in laughter, breaking his somber tone. Shouto felt something like pride take hold of him, for making him feel better for at least a second. 

When Izuku recovered, a small, mournful smile lingered. “Yeah...I guess. Dad was perfectly happy to explain his extreme dislike of him when he got home the next week and heard about it.”

“All Might shouldn’t have told you that anyway, quirkless or not.” Shouto returned, resting his head on his knees. 

He tilted his head to watch his friend. Izuku’s eyes were glassy, but he blinked back the tears before they fell. “Thank you. It worked out in the end, I guess. I don’t know what I was expecting All Might to tell me, I should have known.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“Well, we’re going to make that better, right?” Izuku smiled shyly.

Shouto nodded firmly. “Right.” 

He hummed in answer, eventually standing with cracking bones. Izuku stretched his arms over his heads, pausing to look down at him. “It’s been a while, you should probably head home soon.” He held out his hands to help Shouto to his feet.

In another second, they were nose to nose. Shouto blinked at the sudden change, looking down slightly at his friend. Izuku’s face bloomed, tugging his hands away. 

“You’ll teleport me near the station, right?” He asked, if only to distract from his racing heart. He wasn’t sure why he was reacting like this, it wasn’t like they hadn’t held hands before. He exhaled a breath of smoke.

“Y-Yeah, it’s, um, right down that street, uh-“ Izuku touched him again, fuzzily activating the teleportation quirk. Shouto was used to the sensation by now, landing neatly in the shade of a store window across from the train station. “So...um, bye, I guess.”

“Goodbye.” Shouto answered, tearing his fingers from Izuku’s grasp. He was glad it was his right hand, the left one felt like it might catch aflame. 

Izuku nodded as he turned away from him. Shouto managed a single step before he stopped. Lowly, he spoke again. “Thank you for telling me about All Might.”

He heard his breath hitch. “Y-Yeah, of course. It’s not like I talk to anyone else besides my parents. I mean, there’s Tomura, but he hates me so he doesn’t really count-“

Shouto shrugged, glancing over his shoulder. Izuku froze under his gaze. “Thank you.” He repeated.

“O-Of course.” Izuku muttered. “I trust you, after all.”

His heart fluttered again. “Goodbye, Izuku.”

Chapter Text

“Izu-kun?” Eri’s subdued voice broke through his muttering. Izuku looked up inquisitively at the girl.

She was sitting on his bed, legs tucked underneath her as she inspected a faded All Might action figure. He found it while they were packing. She must have stolen it from the discard pile beside her.

He didn’t have very much left from his childhood beyond the stray photos his parents kept. Wherever the figure had come, Izuku didn’t know. They had such short notice of the attack on their apartment, there hadn’t been much time to grab anything like that, not that he cared. Those toys were from another life.

Eri tilted her head at the painted smile. The concept of heroes were foreign to her. She probably didn’t even know All Might’s name.

“Hm?”

Eri’s crimson gaze remained focused on the chipped paint of the plastic in her hands. Little scars stretched over her fingers. The rest were hidden under the long sleeves of her sweater. “Are they giving me back?”

He heard the sound of shattering glass as his face crumpled. “What?! No, of course not!”

“But you’re moving.” She said simply, quietly. “It’s because you don’t want me to try and find you again.”

Izuku abandoned the box beside his closet, crossing the room to sit on the edge of his bed. “We’re moving. All of us. There isn’t enough space here for everyone anymore, so we have to find somewhere new.”

“But why?” Eri asked. Her eyes lifted from the toy. “Don’t you want me to go back because I’m cursed?”

If Chisaki Kai wasn’t already dead, he have been after these couple of weeks of having Eri stay with them. 

She spent every other night in Izuku’s room. She watched him work on his homeschooling classes, watched hero fights with him and occasionally asked questions like this. Eri had become Mom’s shadow,  following her around religiously during the day when Izuku was busy. She peeked in Dad’s office a lot, when he was home, as if to make sure he was still there. She seemed more skittish around him, but Izuku that would only fade with time. There was a hesitant nature to everything she did, always testing the waters, always afraid.

Izuku gently held out his hands for her. Eri watched him nervously, paused for a long second before she set aside the toy. Izuku brightened warmly when she finally rested her hands in his. She was naturally frail, most likely from her harsh treatment. She threw up the first time she ate dinner with them, unused to heavy foods and normal quantities. 

“Those people who told you that were bad. They didn’t know what they were talking about.” Izuku told her matter-of-factly. “You’re not cursed. They lied.”

Eri shrugged, a messy curl falling over her shoulder. “But my power is bad.”

Izuku would have laughed at the absurdity of the statement if not for her sitting there. Surely, between the two of them, Izuku’s quirk was far worse. 

“No, your quirk is good and kind. You saved Shouto, remember?” Izuku reminded. “It might seem scary since you don’t have the best control of it yet, but it’s not bad. It will never be bad.” He could feel Rewind dancing on his fingertips. It was dizzying, overwhelming warm.

Eri stared at him blankly. She seemed uncertain, biting her lip as she pulled away her hands. “So...you’re not giving me back?”

“No. You never have to go back there again, if you don’t want to.” Most of the yakuza members were dead or in-prisoned at this point anyway. It would be harder to track down one of them to actually take her back.

Her body relaxed slightly. “I don’t want to.”

Izuku grinned. “Good!” In an effort to distract her, he moved onto a new topic. “You know, when we get to our new home, I’ll let you pick your room first.”

“I get to pick?”

“Of course!” Eri hummed her content at his answer, peeking inside the box of books on the floor beside his bed. Izuku figured that was the end of it.

What she had lived through for so long would always affect her, but she would grow from it with time. She was opening up about herself, allowing tiny smiles to cross her lips. The fact that she was comfortable enough to even ask him something like this so outright was promising. This was a good thing. 

Her voice sliced through the room again. “Izu-kun?” 

“Yeah?” He didn’t look up from where he was folding a jacket. 

“Aren’t you...um, worried?”

“Worried? About what?”

“Them catching you.” Whoever them was, it didn’t matter. 

Maybe she meant Chisaki, or the heroes Dad announced his disdain for at every opportunity. It seemed he couldn’t stand to have another hero-obsessed child like Izuku had been, despite Eri not even having a good grasp on what heroes were in the first place. She probably didn’t even understand the illegality of his actions, nor her rescue. 

Izuku paused, sorting through her words in his mind. At this point, he had done many illegal things. He helped wanted criminals, he was even related to the worst one. That alone would probably be enough to warrant a life sentence in the depths of Tartarus. He wanted to help the League, who would be a very real criminal group in a few months if everything went according to Dad’s plan. 

Yet, as far back as the beginning of his vigilantism, capture had never been a concern. If he was doing good, it didn’t matter to him if it was legal in their eyes. Dad said the whole system should be torn down anyway. They had no room to judge what Izuku did, not when they did just the same or worse. Besides, in most cases, if he was smart, he could escape whatever prison they tried to stick him in, or Dad would come get him otherwise.

“No.” Izuku forced a bright smile. “I’m not worried at all. We’re safe and so are you.”

Eri nodded as the door creaked open slightly. They both jolted and glanced toward the entrance. Dad had a box in his hands. He peeked inside at the pair. “How’s it going?”

Izuku proudly pointed at his half-packed closet. “Great. Eri is a lot of help!”

The girl in question blushed, looking wildly between them. “That’s good.” Dad hummed. “Eri, do you think you could go help Inko in the kitchen for a few minutes?“

She nodded quickly and pushed herself off the edge of the bed. Then she slipped past his legs and out the door in the direction of the clinking of plates and cups. Izuku met his father’s gaze with a puzzled glance. He doubted his mother really needed Eri’s help.

“Yuuei acceptance letters went out today.” He said simply while crossing the room. He paused by the edge of the bed.

“All of them?” Izuku asked. “How do you know?” 

“There’s been some posting online, plus an uptick in applications elsewhere as people realize they got rejected.” Dad explained. “You should contact Shouto and confirm that he got in.”

“Oh, right.”

“If you want to, of course.” Dad reminded. “I can send Tomura or Kurogiri if you’re not up to it.” 

“I am.” Izuku assured quickly. He nodded. “No problem, Dad.”

Shouto stuck out of the crowd like a sore thumb. His distinct appearance, combined with his general disdain for the people around him, isolated him. Izuku leaned over the fire escape’s railing, squinting at where Shouto diverged the crowd around him like a rock within a rushing river. 

He didn’t look around himself, head down as he walked. Whether he was actually busy on his phone or not, Izuku couldn’t tell, but there was practically no awareness of his surroundings. He definitely hadn’t noticed Izuku, who had been following him since he slipped out of the gates of his middle school with the echoing of the final bell. 

Izuku jumped between roof ledges. Everyone below was far too concerned with the things around them to look up into the sky. Well, besides the single woman who took off into the sky with bright, blue feathered wings. She gave him a wink as she bypassed the rushing people.

It became a waiting game, hoping that his friend would catch sight of him in the sky, the shadows. 

He didn’t. 

Izuku wasn’t sure why he was wishing for that. Shouto had no stealth training. A hero like Endeavor probably thought that kind of awareness was useless. Shouto was used to being noticed, either because of appearance or relationship, so it didn’t matter. He never cared to fit in. He never learned.

Izuku frowned suddenly, watching him step over the curb of the street he was crossing. 

Shouto was smart. Of course he was. He was a gifted fighter, although Izuku sometimes wished that wasn’t true because of everything that led him to those skills. He could think on his feet, but there was an air of certainty that he lacked. He was socially inept. He was awkward, in a way Izuku had grown to love, but Yuuei wouldn’t be so kind. 

He didn’t have the same training as Izuku, not in the sense of quirks, but the way combat itself unfolded. There was no prediction for Shouto, only reaction. 

Dad was watchful, patient, sitting around for two centuries in preparation for the perfect opportunity. By design, Izuku was like that, too. He wasn’t quite as patient, yet, but Izuku was observant and could analyze a fight or an opponent before even throwing the first punch.

Sure, he was more restless, more desperate for change or action or anything at all, but he could play the waiting game, too. Dad said those desires faded with time. It was to be expected with his age. 

Part of those habits were learned or taught, of course. Izuku knew how disappear in a crowd, to blend into the wall behind him. But it was more than just what Dad taught him or his time as a vigilante. 

It was from years of sitting alone at lunch, in the back of the classroom. Walking home alone, sticking to the less traveled streets to avoid everyone who knew him. It was a necessity. Blending in used to be the difference between going home with a black eye or not.  

Eri’s concern returned, twisted and flipped on its head. He suddenly felt uncomfortable watching Shouto.

“Hey.” Izuku said as he dropped to the ground behind Shouto. His friend stumbled backwards, holding up his hand in defense as he turned toward him. He sighed in relief as he recognized Izuku. “Are you busy?”

Shouto shook his head with a small smile. He held out his hand to take Izuku’s and they vanished in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“So your father must be happy, right?” Izuku tried, flipping over the letter. 

Shouto scoffed. “Stoked. He’s upped my training again. Says I have to outshine all the other students on the first day.” He took back the letter and tucked it away in his bag. “It doesn’t matter, Yuuei is just part of the plan, right?”

“Right.” He agreed halfheartedly.

Shouto inspected him for a moment. Izuku tried to not feel on display underneath his gaze. “What’s wrong?” He finally asked. “I thought you’d be excited about me getting in.”

“I am! O-Or, I was. I don’t know.” He sighed, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“Tell me.” Shouto scooted closer. Izuku tugged up his face mask, hoping to hide the blush that suddenly emerged from their proximity. “We tell each other stuff now, right? No more secrets.”

“Well, you already know the big one.” Izuku joked. 

Shouto shot him an unimpressed look, bumping his shoulder against him. “What’s wrong?” He repeated. 

The shorter boy shook his head. “It’s stupid...it’s just something Eri asked today.” Izuku frowned. “She asked about being caught.”

“What? Like the yakuza?” 

He gave him a short laugh. “No, no, the yakuza is gone. They’re over.” There weren’t many living members left, definitely none that had the ability to reorganize. “She was worried about me, I think. And that’s never been a problem with me or with Dad, but you...”

Shouto raised his eyebrows. “You think I’m going to get caught?”

“No.” Izuku hesitated. “No, but you- you’re going into a dangerous situation, m-more than anywhere I’ve ever been and I-“ His argument died in his throat. Despite himself, his eyes widened, face heating. 

“What?”

“I can’t follow you.” He admitted. Shouto’s expression softened, tilting his head at the confession. “Even your home, your school now...if you were in danger, I’d come. You know I would, in a heartbeat, right?”

“Of course.”

Izuku closed his fists, staring down at the ledge they were perched upon. “Yuuei isn’t like that. If something happened you, because of m-me-“

Shouto grabbed his hand, effectively silencing him. Izuku stared dumbly at their joined hands. He could feel the sizzling of his quirk under his skin, volatile temperatures, but there was something more there, suddenly. 

“Hey.” He dared to meet his multicolored eyes. “Nothing is going happen. You know I’m doing this because I want to.” Shouto shyly looked away. “You’re a reason, of course, but I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t want to. You know I can take care of myself. The heroes have no reason to suspect me. They trust me, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Izuku frowned and shrugged. “It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I’m glad you did.” Shouto returned. “It’s...sweet that you’re concerned. I’m just assuring you that it will be okay.”

He looked back at Shouto, momentarily surprised by his utterly genuine expression. Izuku swallowed his unease and nodded. “Okay.” He breathed. 

The other smiled thinly and looked back at the street, unaware as Izuku stared on. Something in his chest fluttered, watching his friend.

That word suddenly felt wrong. 

Chapter Text

Yuuei High School was too lively for this early in the morning. 

Shouto’s grip tightened on the strap of his bag. His eyes flickered over the groups of unfamiliar faces in matching ties and blazers. There were a few teachers wandering around inside the gates, pointing first-years in the direction of their new homerooms. He kept his distance from the others, flattening his tie as he walked toward the glass towers. 

Class 1-A was on the fourth floor, right besides Class 1-B. He saw that girl with the lizard quirk chatting with another recommendations boy inside the other classroom. They didn’t notice him as he passed the open door. 

His class was loud. Shouto internally winced at the shouting seeping from the classroom. He could hear it several meters away already. Someone cursed brashly. An unsettling sense of deja vu seeped into him. He felt like he should recognize that voice.

He opened the door slightly, daring to slip inside. Hopefully, no one noticed him. There were several colorful heads dotting the room. The dark-haired girl from the recommendation exam was sitting in the furthest corner of the room, Yoarashi was here as well, animatedly talking to a redhead. Shouto inspected the seating chart at the front of the room before he turned back toward the rows of seats.

“Oi!” A voice snapped. Shouto stiffened. His frown grew. He did know that voice. “What the fuck are you doing here, Halfie?!” 

Bakugou Katsuki stalked up to him in a wrinkled, unkept uniform. He was missing his tie and probably his belt as well from the way his pants slouched. 

Shouto narrowed his eyes at the blond. 

Deku.

“Bakugou. I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but I don’t like you.” Shouto answered curtly. 

“What the- You’re the one who showed up to my fucking school, poking your nose in business that didn’t fucking involve you!” He snarled. 

“Bakugou! Todoroki! Please quiet down!” The blue-haired boy, Iida, Shouto vaguely remembered from a rainy afternoon, rushed up to them. A brunette girl accompanied him. She wearily looked between them.

“So you guys know each other?” The girl hummed. “You, uh, friends or something?”

“Absolutely not.” Shouto hissed.

“Fuck no! This asshole came up asking about-“ Bakugou suddenly choked. 

Shouto raised his eyebrows, glancing back at the blond. He couldn’t really be that uncomfortable talking about Izuku. From what he heard, it didn’t sound like Bakugou should care if the other was dead. He hadn’t cared when he was alive.

“Yo, Todoroki!” Yoarashi grinned and joined their group at the front of the room. He clapped a hand on his shoulder. Shouto stiffened under the force. “You made it! Guess that’s to be expected from someone like you, ha!”

“About what?” Shouto heard the brunette ask Iida quietly. 

Bakugou scoffed. He surged forward, hand flexing with flying sparks. “You better stay out of my fucking way, Half-and-Half, and leave Deku out of it.”

Fury bubbled up in him. “You should learn Izuku’s actual name.” Shouto snapped against his will. 

As soon as the words left his tongue, he snapped his mouth shut and abruptly, internally panicked. All for One was explicit about not mentioning Izuku ever, but Shouto couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t just stand by while Bakugou abused who mattered most to him. Bakugou visibly stiffened, but wisely didn’t answer and retreated to a desk along the wall of windows.

“Whoa, you look real scary like that!” Yoarashi continued. “Kinda like your dad.” There was a disappointed tone to his voice and Shouto wiped the expression off his face. 

He peeked at the taller boy. “Sorry.” Shouto corrected. “He pisses me off.”

“Well, picking fights is unacceptable for hero students like us-“ Iida began lecturing the space between them and Shouto resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

He muttered an excuse to find his seat and wandered deeper into the classroom. Yoarashi became interested in the newest student who walked in: a girl with long green hair and big, dark eyes. He gave Shouto an uncomfortable glance as he left, but didn’t try to call after him. Shouto briefly relished in the solitude.

Shouto’s desk was in the last row. He was seated directly beside the girl with dark hair. She peeked up at him, nonchalantly looking between him and Bakugou. Clearly, the entire class had heard their discussion. Great. 

Shouto tossed bag to the floor and claimed his seat. Bakugou would continue to be a thorn in his side for the entire year, especially if he didn’t learn to respect Izuku. He shot the back of his spiky head a dirty look. As much as he wanted to continue their conversation, it wouldn’t be a good idea for anyone. Bakugou was the least important person in this classroom. There was an entire class of other people to learn about. He had a purpose here. Bakugou would not get in the way of that.

Shouto turned toward the girl with the ponytail to his left. “Hello. I’m Todoroki Shouto.” He spontaneously spoke.

She blinked at him, probably surprised at the sudden greeting. “Um...hi. Yaoyorozu Momo.”

“I thought they only admitted two recommendations students per class.” He continued expectantly.

Yaoyorozu paled, nervously wringing her hands. “They do, but the school was so impressed with my quirk that they suggested I take the regular exam in case I didn’t get...you know, recommended.”

Shouto furrowed his eyebrows. He had never heard of that happening before. 

Yaoyorozu suddenly seemed uninterested in talking further. She inspected the dirt underneath her fingernails. Shouto leaned back in his seat and took the hint. He glanced back at the rest of the classroom. It was nearly full by now. 

There was a girl with pink hair and skin who was loudly announcing herself to the people sitting around her. Iida had reclaimed a position directly perpendicular to the classroom’s door with the little brunette at his shoulder. 

Part of his job was to learn about both Yuuei and the students that populated it. Learn all their personalities, quirks, strengths, weaknesses, anything that might help them in the long run. There were a few people with obvious quirks, but otherwise, most remained a mystery until practical training began. 

Shouto leaned over and poked through the books in his bag. He picked out a brand new composition notebook and set it before him. 

Izuku told him once about the journals he kept. They were sparked by his father, encouraged by gifts to pick apart and analyze. It kept him busy, he said, during the years where all he had to keep him company were quirks. 

He might as well continue the tradition. Shouto uncapped his pen to label the cover: Hero Analysis for the Future #1. 

Shouto was only halfway through Yoarashi’s page when the classroom and students around him abruptly silenced. He looked up from his book inquisitively.

His eyes met the man standing at the front of the classroom. He must be their teacher, although Shouto didn’t recognize him from his hero career. His hair was dark and tangled, spilling out of a thin scarf. His eyes might have been black, or maybe they were red. Either way, they narrowed at Shouto for a single, split second. 

He paused in his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed. Like with Bakugou, Shouto had that nagging feeling. He should know this man. He should remember him from something. Shouto racked his brain, but he come up with anything that dealt with the man before him.

Then, without any hesitation, the man picked up again like he had never been interrupted. He tore his eyes from Shouto and stepped up to the front desk. “My name is Aizawa Shouta-“

There. That’s who he was. 

Shouto swallowed his unease. 

He was on the list. 

“Hey! Hey! Todoroki!” Yoarashi screeched across the cafeteria. He internally cringed at the noise.

Despite his growing desire to turn on his heel and hide among the third-years sitting directly behind him, Shouto forced himself to take a step toward him. The recommended student was standing up and wildly waving at him over Yaoyorozu and Iida’s heads when he reached their table. 

“Hey! Wanna eat with us?” 

“Sure.” Shouto relented. He slid into the seat on Yaoyorozu’s right. She looked uncomfortable sandwiched between him and Iida.

The brunette and reptilian girl were across from him. The former was eagerly shoveling her lunch in her mouth, like she had never seen gyudon before. 

“You were really impressive in the Quirk Apprehension Test, Todoroki-kun.” The green-haired girl said. She pressed a finger to her chin. “I’m Asui Tsuyu, but please call me Tsuyu.”

“Okay.” Shouto answered stiffly. “Thank you.”

“I can’t believe Aizawa-sensei really expelled that purple haired kid.” The brunette added between her mouthfuls of beef and rice. “It’s kind of worrying, I didn’t realize we could be kicked out that easily.”

“Well, he did get the lowest score. Aizawa-sensei fulfilled his promise.” Iida commented.

“Only the best survives. That’s how heroics works.” Shouto interjected. The table looked at him and he quickly wished he had bitten his tongue instead. 

“That’s awfully negative.” Yaoyorozu added nervously. 

Shouto shrugged awkwardly. “It’s the truth.”

“I’m kind of glad we won’t be seeing more of him.” Tsuyu added. “I think he was trying to look up my skirt earlier.”

“He did that to you, too?!” The brunette exclaimed. Her loud distraction to avoid any further conversation with Shouto was painfully obvious. “I thought I was the only one!”

Yaoyorozu frowned. “You know, I think I heard that girl with pink hair yelling at him earlier. Ashido, I think.”

“Good riddance then.” 

Shouto looked away from the center of their clustered group as they continue marveling about today’s expulsion. Shouto furrowed his eyebrows, listening as the girls recounted the things he had tried to do just that morning. Maybe he overestimated Yuuei’s admission standards.

“-and get the fuck out of my way!” Something popped in tune with the shout. The group quickly found the source as Bakugou bulldozed through a couple of general department students. They crashed backwards on themselves, giving each other wide-eyed expressions at Bakugou’s appearance.

Shouto felt his mood sour. A spiky redhead and the pink-skinned girl trotted after him. He couldn’t read lips, maybe he should learn, but they looked like they were trying to maintain a conversation with the blond. He scoffed. He should have known Yuuei‘s standards were low. They admitted Bakugou, after all.

Those other kids must be idiots. He couldn’t think of a reason anyone would want to hold a conversation with Bakugou, much less be friends with him. They set their plates down beside his once he picked a table, cheerily carrying on.

His head ached from trying to focus on them for so long. They were across the cafeteria from them now. Shouto rubbed at his scar, wanting to miss the clear eyesight he never had.

“You really don’t like him, huh?” Shouto blinked back at the group with Yoarashi’s comment. One of his cheeks buldged with a large chunk of rice. He peered around the other side of Tsuyu. “You guys old buddies or something?”

“No.” Shouto resisted the urge to scoff. He shook his head, returning his attention to his bowl in an effort to push Bakugou out of his mind. “He hurt someone I...care about.” 

“Who?” 

When he looked up, there was that flash of green. The drifting trees outside the windows behind them, the swishing fabric of skirts and pants, the color of Tsuyu’s hair. 

He should be here with him. Maybe, in another time, he would have been.

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t know him.”

His father was working late tonight and Fuyumi wouldn’t be home for another hour. Shouto wasn’t used to being home alone like this, but the house itself wasn’t really any different than the time he spent here outside of training.

The large house was silent, made up of creaking wood and dark hallways. Nothing good lived here, nothing dared to make a sound. Shouto slipped off his shoes beside the door and made the way to his bedroom. 

He needed to finish that letter to his mother before training tonight. He doubted he want to do it after cleaning up his burns. 

Shouto slid open his door and dumped his bag on the floor beside his unmade futon. He stepped toward his closet to change out of his uniform when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. 

His desk had been cleared from the summer break. He hadn’t touched it in a few months, not since his last assignment was turned in. 

A single box sat in the middle of the surface. His name was written on it. 

Shouto looked around room again, but it appeared just like he had left it this morning. He took a cautious step toward the box. It was no larger than a book. He picked it up in his hands and shook it gently. Finally, he pried off the lid and furrowed his eyebrows at the contents.

It was a phone. 

It was a different, much older model than his. It might have been older than him, with a chunky body and scratched up corners. Shouto took it and flipped it over in his hands curiously. Fleetingly, he sat down on his futon and pressed the power button. 

There wasn’t a password, so he moved through the limited functions easily. There were no messages, but he was pretty sure he could text and send pictures through it. There was no call history and only a single contact listed. It was only a string of numbers, no area code, no name attached.

Shouto pressed call and held the phone up to his ear. On the first ring, it picked up. “Hello?” He tried. 

“Hi.” A child answered. The voice sounded familiar for some reason. The background was busy. Shouto heard more voices, too far for him to decipher.

He looked up at his ceiling. “Who is this?”

“Um...hang on.” The girl answered. She spoke again to someone else, although she didn’t care to cover up the speaker on her end. “Inko-san, what’s your family name again...Mido- Okay.” She returned to Shouto. “My name is M-Midoriya Eri. Who’s this?”

A small smile graced Shouto’s lips. He laid back on his futon. “This is Shouto. How are you, Eri?”

“Shouto!” She gasped. “Hi! Izu-kun said you might call, he gave me his phone to hold.”

“Where is he?”

“Um...he’s helping Hisashi-san. We’re moving.” Eri explained. “He said I can pick whatever room I want and it’ll be all mine.”

“That’s very exciting.” He returned. Shouto traced lines on his ceiling. Izuku had already mentioned the move to him, but he humored Eri. “Do you like staying with them?”

“Mmhm. Inko-san is teaching me about...kanji. I think that’s what it’s called. And Izu-kun plays with me. He’s nice- Oh, Izu-kun!” Eri cut off with an exclamation. “Shouto is here.”

“-at?! Let me see!” He could hear Izuku’s voice varying in volume as he neared the speaker. “Dad! I’ll be back in a second.” 

An odd, warbled static noise echoed in Shouto’s ear and he winced away from the phone’s speaker. “Hello?”

“Shouto!” 

He tilted his head, brushing the edge of the pillow. He caught sight of the discarded box on his desk. “Did you break into my house?” Shouto asked amusedly. 

“No! Well, u-um, I teleported inside, so I guess I did. I just was busy today and I needed to pass off the phone and I really wanted to hear about your first day and-“ Izuku cut himself off with a deep breath.

Shouto huffed. “Izuku, it’s fine. It doesn’t look like you touched anything else.”

“I didn’t. I just set the box down and left, that’s all I promise.”

His smile widened. “I know.”

“So, anyway, Dad wanted us to have a quicker way for communication. This should be pretty untraceable, so we can talk on this phone and you might hear from Tomura here, too. Don’t save any numbers and if someone catches you with it or finds it, just say you found it and was looking for a way to return it to the owner.” Izuku explained. “If it gets taken we’ll just you get a new one.”

“Okay.” Shouto answered. “That makes sense.”

“With that out of the way, tell me about your day!” His enthusiasm seeped through the phone. Something about him was intoxicating. Shouto muffled his laughter.

“It was pretty boring actually.” He began. Shouto sunk further into his futon as he continued.

He explained the Quirk Apprehension Test and the expulsion of the boy he never learned the name of. He even mentioned a few interesting quirks, but decided to keep his notebook’s existence secret until they met in-person again. Shouto wanted to witness the way Izuku’s eyes lit up when he showed it to him. Maybe he’d gift him one of those dazzling smiles. 

Finally, he ran out of things to say, besides the thing he was dreading the most. Shouto didn’t want to dampen his bright mood. Despite what Izuku might say now, Yuuei had been his dream once That unbridled interest and excitement was hard to disguise through the phone as he asked series of rushed questions. It gave him away.

But he deserved to know. He would find out soon anyway. Yuuei students were public figures and surely All for One would want a list of every newly admitted hero course student.

“There’s something else.” Shouto sighed. 

“What?” The other hummed. “You sound upset.”

“I am. Bakugou is in my class.”

He heard Izuku’s breath stutter. “W-What? Kacchan?”

“He’s an asshole, just today he-“

“Don’t talk to him.” Izuku cut him off. His voice was stiff, abruptly unwavering. “Shouto, you shouldn’t talk to him.”

Well, it was too late for that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He sighed. “It’s not...It’s not really a surprise either. I always knew Kacchan would get to Yuuei one day. You had a fifty-fifty chance to get him in your class.”

Shouto rolled his eyes. “I have terrible luck then.” He deadpanned. 

Izuku laughed suddenly. Despite the subject, he smiled to himself. At least he could still make him laugh. “Don’t worry about it, really. Just keep your distance from him. He’ll probably give up if you ignore him.”

“Probably?”

“Well...he hated me, but I never could let him go, so that’s probably why. If you leave him alone, then he will, too.” Izuku answered distantly. “That’s what happened to us.”

There was more there. There was something unsaid. He could feel it in the static between them. Shouto chewed on his lip, struggling for some way to address it.

The front door opened. He heard the noise echo down the empty halls. Shouto shot up. He scrambled around for his actual phone to check the time. It couldn’t already be time for training.

“Shouto?”

“Someone just got home.” He answered and finally found his discarded phone. “I need to go.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll talk to you soon, right?”

“Yes.” Shouto promised. “Goodbye.”

“Bye-“ He ended the call and tossed the burner under his pillow. 

His room’s door slid open and Fuyumi peeked inside. She gave him a polite smile. “Hey, good afternoon.”

“Hi.”

“I thought I heard you talking in here.” She mused.

He scolded himself. He should have been paying more attention to the time. Shouto shrugged. “Just...practicing English pronunciation.” He tried. 

If she saw through the lie, or was close enough to hear him speaking what was clearly Japanese, she didn’t show it. Fuyumi just nodded. “Homework on the first day? Yuuei is pretty serious, huh?“

Chapter Text

They were different. 

That was a simplistic, curt way to put it, but it got the point across. Things were different. 

Izuku sat against the wall of his new room, trying to pretend for the better part of the last hour that he was busy putting away his clothes instead of lost in his thoughts. His dresser’s drawers were open and untouched alongside the moving box of clothes. He could hear his mother and Eri’s voices echoing from her room, being far more productive than him.

Shouto was in school right now. He sent his daily schedule earlier in the week. Izuku could figure out exactly which class he was sitting in right now if he wanted to. His phone was discarded just out of arm’s reach. 

He exhaled and rested his head back against the wall. He shut his eyes miserably. This was not what he needed right now. Not what they needed. There was too much at stake, especially with Shouto just starting high school.  He couldn’t mess this up for everyone.

He was pretty sure Dad had noticed. He kept offering to send one of the League’s members to Shouto. Although, that might just be a ploy to throw off Shouto, keep him on his toes. He was constantly trying to test his loyalty despite Izuku’s insistence that Shouto had absolutely nothing to prove to them. 

That still didn’t account for the tension. He didn’t know if Shouto had noticed it. He was so abrupt and bold with everything, surely the other would make it known if he realized something. 

Izuku didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but that didn’t change the fact that things were different. 

There was something floating in the air between them that hadn’t been there before. A stiffness to Izuku’s posture, a tremble in his voice. He couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, but without wanting something different. 

He didn’t want to draw the similarities, but he had felt this shift only once before. It wasn’t the same, only parallel, but it happened once.

One day, Kacchan morphed. 

The world around him changed and then Izuku no longer knew the boy who was supposed to be his friend. It long coming, growing and snowballing until Izuku had the realization in the middle of elementary playground with a skinned knee and a burned arm. He remembered looking up at Kacchan with an aching face, a heat over his skin, a desire to call Explosion his, and suddenly, things were different. 

Izuku closed his fists and opened his eyes. He breathed slowly, steadily. Attraction and Rewind called out to him in the other room, lured him closer. 

This excessive quirk training certainly didn’t help any of this either. It left him dizzy and overwhelmed.

Ever since the tunnels, it was like someone had taken his quirk, thrust something new and foreign into it, then tossed it back to him with no answer and a punch to the face. His awareness of other quirks was worse, stronger, and even farther than before. It was even nauseating with quirks he knew or had experience with, like his mother’s and Eri’s. 

It made sense now that they knew. His father’s quirk was meant to evolve. All for One, as much as Izuku tried to ignore the facts, was spontaneous and parasitic. There was a reason it had lasted two hundred years in the face of other quirks. It took and took and evolved. It only made sense that it would mutate with his mother’s. 

Dad was elated. 

He always wanted to help with his quirk, even more so now. This came in the form of more frequent quirk exercise. Through the last few weeks Izuku had managed to take exactly two quirks from a distance, although he passed out afterwards both times. It only made Izuku more frustrated with himself. 

He should be able to use it, he needed to know how. If he couldn’t do it now, in the comfort of his home with hundreds of quirks within his father to pick from, he wouldn’t be able to do it in battle. 

Something like that might be the difference between life or death. Someone else’s life or death. 

A knock interrupted his thoughts. Izuku’s eyes snapped up. 

Mom peeked inside his room. “You’ve been productive.” She greeted with a nonchalant glance at the blank walls and empty drawers. 

He blushed and busied himself with the shirt that had been lying in his lap. “I got distracted. How’s Eri?” Izuku asked quickly. It was clearly a ploy to throw attention away from himself and Mom probably saw right through it.

“Good.” She answered simply. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He lied. He set the shirt in the bottom drawer and moved onto the next one. 

“Izuku,” Mom said in a painfully parental tone. “if all this League stuff is too much for you, you’re allowed to take a step back. You know you don’t have to-“

“No!” He exclaimed. “No, that’s not it, don’t tell Dad, please.” 

She frowned at him. “He’s not making you do this. You don’t need to stress about anything happening-“

“That’s not it, Mom.” Izuku shook his head firmly. “I-It’s not about the League. I’m fine. I want to be involved. I want to help.” He promised.

His mother sighed and leaned down to take his hands and steal away his distraction. She squeezed gently with a soft expression. Attraction hummed on the edge of his senses, comforting in the way that it reminded him solely of her. “What’s wrong?”

It was times like this where Izuku was sure she must have some secondary quirk that forced the words out of him. He needed to be involved, he needed to stay strong, he needed to support Shouto, protect Shouto, but he blurted out his issues so easily. 

“Something’s happened between Shouto and I.” 

“What?” She blinked, puzzled.

Izuku’s face grew hot and he tug his hands from hers to pick at the callouses. “I-I don’t know, but it’s just- different. I don’t know what to do, but I’m so stressed about him all the time. I can’t stop thinking about what m-might happen. I’m always wishing he was here with me and I can’t stand the idea of...o-of...” 

Abruptly, everything stopped. The whirring in his mind fizzled and died. He blinked through his blurry vision and stared at the shirt in his lap.

“Izuku?” Mom asked gently. She rubbed his shoulder, reminding him to look up at her again. 

“Do you feel like that when Dad’s gone?” He murmured.

Her eyebrows knit together and she smiled thinly. “I worry all the time. It’s not just him, but it’s you and, now, Eri. When you’re all out of reach, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

There was a name for this, but Izuku didn’t dare say it aloud. He bit his tongue.

It wasn’t the same.

Shouto was not his mother. He was not Kacchan either. He was different.

The buzz of his phone distracted them before she could say anything further. Mom pulled it over and it dropped in her hand. “It’s Shouto.” She announced before she offered it to him. 

shouto >> Your dad is looking for an opportunity to get to All Might, correct?

shouto >> I think I’ve got an opportunity.

Izuku silently watched Kuroguri wipe down the bar’s surface in the preparation of their guest. 

The man had been around for as long as Izuku could remember. He was always just...there. Always in the background, looming over Tomura’s head, eyes glowing in the dim light.

His quirk was wispy, just like him. Izuku could feel it from across the room. He felt like he should be able to hold out his hand and feel the sensation drift between his fingers, but when he tried to think of it as Warp Gate, it just didn’t click.

Izuku wondered for a moment where Kuroguri had belonged before this bar. He knew why Tomura was here, he knew what fueled that violate man, but something told him Kuroguri was different. 

He was never one to rush into a fight. He didn’t demand justice or change like Izuku did. He was just support; a lingering shadow content with the job he had been given. 

Tomura huffed. “Why couldn’t Sensei come again?”

“He was busy.” Izuku answered simply. He tore his eyes from the warper.

“This is important, isn’t it?” Tomura argued. “He should be here.” 

The instead of you was left unsaid. Izuku shrugged. Dad had left his explicit instructions about the plan with Izuku, so there wasn’t exactly a reason for him to be here. Although, of course Tomura wasn’t satisfied. 

The furthest door suddenly opened. Shouto spilled in with the hallway’s shadows. He blinked dumbly at them, then down at the key in his hand. “Hello.” His unique hair was hidden under a hat, with a face mask covering the bottom edge of his scar. 

Izuku forced a smile to his face. His chest tightened as the other nervously stepped inside and tucked the key ring away in his jacket’s pocket. It included one that went to the bar, but also the side door of the building above it. He tugged off his hat and mask and stuffed them in his bag. 

“Were you followed?” Kuroguri greeted.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“So?” Tomura hissed impatiently. “What’s the deal?”

Shouto wandered over to Izuku’s side and sat beside him in the booth. Kuroguri remained busy tidying up at the bar, but Izuku noticed the way he tilted his head, like he listening. He dug through his bag and presented a book. Tomura leaned over the table between them to inspect the cover.

Izuku made an embarrassing squeak. “Hero Analysis for the Future?” He gasped, looking at Shouto. 

The other boy smiled shyly. “I remembered you telling me about them. It’s a little misleading, but I thought I’d continue the series, if that’s okay.”

He remembered. He listened and he remembered something silly like that. Izuku felt his face grow hot. “I, um, it’s good.” He muttered, squeezing his hands in the fabric of his jeans. 

Shouto didn’t seem to pick up on his embarrassment, but Tomura scoffed and probably rolled his eyes underneath his rotting hand. 

He flipped open the book as he spoke. “They explained it to us yesterday.” Shouto began. “I wrote it all down. It’s called the Unforeseen Simulation Joint facility, my class is going there at the end of the week.”

Shouto proceeded to show them the map he had scribbled down and everything his teachers had explained about the facility. Izuku was momentarily surprised by the level of detail Shouto remembered. He supposed he shouldn’t really be, Shouto was an all-or-nothing kind of person. Of course he’d embrace his purpose as an informant. 

“It’s off-campus, so it’ll be easier to get into than anywhere on campus and won’t have same level of security. We’re taking a bus there in the morning.” He concluded. “And All Might is supposed to be there. He’s helping teach the class.”

“So we attack the faculty, obviously.” Tomura said. “Kuroguri can warp us in there and we can take out the boss.” 

“Boss?” Shouto murmured, shooting Izuku a puzzled look.

“All Might.” He corrected simply. He chewed on his lip and distantly stared at the map of USJ on the page. “Tomura, do you really think you can win against him?”

Tomura snorted. He pried the hand from his face and held the wrist between his thumb and forefinger. The villain gave him a wrinkled smirk. “I’m not fighting him, you’ll see. Sensei has a gift for me.”

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” He didn’t even want to begin to pick that implication apart. Dad hadn’t mentioned anything to him. 

Tomura just shrugged, choosing to childishly ignore him.

“We’ll have to keep eyes on the bus so I can know the coordinates.“ Kuroguri added while cleaning out a glass. “I’m assuming you won’t be going, Izuku?”

“You’re not?” Shouto echoed. He looked at him accusingly.

Izuku sunk in his seat and scowled. “Dad said I can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

“You do worse as a vigilante.” His friend argued. “My class is pathetic, you’d wipe the floor with them, isn’t that the point?”

“No, it’s about All Might. Your class is just the connection.” Izuku sighed. “And it doesn’t matter, Dad said no. I’ll be in the area, but not the facility or actual attack.”

“Good.” Tomura snapped. “I don’t need your help. It’s my League, I’ve even gotten my own recruits.” He boasted. 

Izuku didn’t bother to remind Tomura the only reason he was even here, and alive, was because his father picked up off the streets as a child. He was who connected him with Kuroguri, gave him the bar to live in. 

Instead, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Recruits? I thought you weren’t supposed to leave the bar.”

“Giran has been visiting us recently.” Kuroguri explained. So that wasn’t Tomura’s doing either. Giran was his father’s contact.

“I don’t understand.” Shouto murmured. He turned toward Izuku with a disappointed expression. “You’re really not coming?”

“No.” He would continue to argue and beg, but Dad rarely changed his mind with these things. Then he’d have to address his mother and he doubted she would allow it either. “It’ll be okay. It’s just a statement.”

“And All Might’s death.” Tomura announced proudly. Izuku glared at him bitterly. 

Tomura didn’t even know why he wanted All Might dead. He just followed everything Dad said, he didn’t even stop to think. Izuku wasn’t even sure if he knew the story behind their quirks, the real reason to stop All Might in his tracks now, before he chose a successor. 

But this was it. Izuku watched Tomura continue to explain his plan, having to define his video game vocabulary for Shouto as he went. 

This was going to happen. There was no going back after this.

A cold hand on his thigh distracted him. He stiffened, tearing his gaze from Tomura and the notebook stretched between them. 

Shouto offered him another small smile. “You seem...stressed.” He said, ignoring Tomura’s ongoing statement. 

“I-“ Izuku hesitated.

The villain huffed and shoved away from the table. “Fine, die by the quirks of my minions, see if I care.” He snatched up his dismembered hand, stalked over to the bar, and finally left them in peace.

Shouto looked worried. His eyebrows were knitted together, a soft shade to his eyes, something far too nice to be in a place like this. Izuku‘s mouth dried. “I..I’m okay. J-Just...upset I can’t go.”

He was an awful, terrible liar.

“Are you still worried about me getting hurt?”

“No. Not exactly.” That was just one of the many thoughts surrounding Shouto that constantly swam around his mind.

His friend smiled a little wider and shifted toward him so that he was sitting sideways in the booth and fully facing Izuku. Then, he offered his right hand with his pinky out. 

Izuku blinked at the gesture. “Um, what are you doing?”

His face colored in panic, barely turning a darker shade. “It’s something I learned from a girl at school. Her name is Uraraka. I think you’d like her.” Shouto straightened up in his confidence. “It’s a pinky promise. I promise I’ll stay safe during the USJ attack, so that you can promise you won’t worry anymore.”

The argument that Shouto couldn’t promise something like that died in his throat. His eyes grew wide and he resisted the urge to sniffle at the pointlessly wonderful sentiment.

It had been years since Izuku made a promise like this, not since he was running through a stream, under a bridge, and grinning at a blond boy with the promise to stand beside him one day in a far future, quirks sparking on the screens of news stations and villains at their feet. 

Now he was dead. 

“Okay.” Izuku whispered hoarsely. He held up his hand and curled their pinkies together. “I promise.”

Chapter Text

Yoarashi abandoned him in the back row of the bus nearly as soon as the engine started. Shouto watched from his seat as the other recommended student bounced from row to row, chatting and laughing with their classmates. His uniform’s cape, brand new and dull maroon, twisted and flared behind him. 

They were having some conversation about Bakugou toward the front of the bus, right behind Aizawa’s sleeping bag in the front aisle. Well, he assumed it was about Bakugou from the way the blond was screaming and threatening Tsuyu and another blond, whose name he couldn’t remember. Shouto rolled his eyes and slouched in his seat.

Yaoyorozu and a girl, Jirou he was pretty sure, were in the seats to his left, while he was squashed against the glass across the aisle. The bus bounced over rocky concrete, leaving Shouto slightly nauseated.

He dared a glance out the window. Trees skipped past, evidence of an outside world seeped through the breaks in their trunks. Shouto hadn’t seen any sign of the League today, despite what he knew was coming. He expected at least a glimpse of Kuroguri’s portal, or maybe a stray hand, but there was nothing. 

Shouto looked back at the bus. His classmates were dressed in a variety of brightly colored costumes. They had only been issued earlier in the week from the support department, so everyone was itching to try them out. 

His own costume was rather plain compared to theirs, dark blue just like their typical PE uniforms. Izuku had helped him put together a design for a vest thermoregulater, plus the wrist attachments. He had, unfortunately, vetoed Shouto’s desire to add a bunny eared-hood, with the argument that trying to mimic a known vigilante was probably a bad idea. 

He was right, of course, but Shouto was still disappointed.

His eyes darted over the heads of his classmates disinterestedly. They had left the school almost an hour ago, they must be almost there. In fact, Aizawa had just straightened up and begun folding his obnoxious yellow sleeping bag, further proving his theory.

Shouto peeked out the window as a large, dome building came into view. It was similar to what he had imagined, made of blue panes and white brick. Again, no sign of the League. He didn’t dare bring the burner, not that communication with Izuku would help much if he wasn’t going to be there.

He tilted his head back toward the interior of the bus and stiffened. Aizawa was watching him. There wasn’t any indication of emotion, not that Shouto could tell at least. He swallowed, clinching his fists in his lap. 

Then the underground hero stood and held onto one of the overhead bars

He began to address the class as they coasted to a stop. Shouto rested his head against the pillow of the seat with an exhale. This whole spying thing was much more stressful than he had originally predicted. 

They barely made it ten meters in the door before a familiar stiffness tightened the air around the,. Shouto’s mouth grew dry. He knew this feeling, it took everything in him to not look around wildly for where Kuroguri’s warp gate might appear.

He didn’t have to guess very long. The hushed exclamations and confusion of the other students directed him quickly to the stairs leading toward main plaza before them. 

Behind Thirteen’s form, a swirling, purple portal appeared. 

“What the hell?” Bakugou muttered.

“Is this part of the exercise?” Yaoyorozu asked quietly. The words were pointed toward Shouto. 

He wordlessly shrugged in answer. Tomura appeared through one of the portals as they multiplied and more villains he didn’t recognize spilled out into the facility’s plaza. 

“Everyone stay back!” Aizawa shouted, shoving his way to the front of the group. “Thirteen, protect the students.”

Tomura straightened in a lanky, uncomfortable motion. Shouto couldn’t imagine those hands to be necessary, but they certainly gave him a creepy, villainous appearance. 

“Well, the schedule said All Might was supposed to be here, too.” Tomura huffed as he surveyed them. He tilted his head toward Kuroguri. “I wonder if he’ll show up if we kill the kids.” He suggested offhandedly.

Shouto drew backwards.

That wasn’t part of the plan. That wasn’t the purpose of this, right?

His longing for Izuku’s appearance grew, but his friend didn’t show. 

“Aren’t there alarms?” The redhead that wouldn’t leave Bakugou’s side gasped. “Do you think they’ve targeted other parts of the school?”

Shouto knew that wasn’t true, but he decided he had been too silent. “It’s possible. Where are the other heroes?”

“Where is All Might?” Uraraka murmured worriedly. Her hands gripped the tight fabric of her pink uniform. 

Shouto was internally asking that, too. All Might was supposed to be here, but he hadn’t seen so much of a glimpse of the number one hero all day. None of the teachers made any comments or excuses for him. Either they didn’t know, or he was missing for a reason they didn’t want to draw attention to. He needed show up, for everyone’s sake. Without Izuku or his father here, he didn’t dare trust Tomura and his intentions. 

“Thirteen! Try to contact the school, Kaminari, try your quirk as well.” Aizawa ordered. His scarf floated around him as he prepared for attack. The blond flinched at the exclamation of his name. “I’ll hold them off.”

“Sensei!” Iida called frantically as he leaped from the stop of the stairs. The villains swarmed him. “He can’t possibly think he’s going to win! He’s outnumbered!” 

Shouto pressed his mouth into a line and watched the hero. Aizawa cancelled the first couple of quirks aimed at him and used his capture weapon to tangle and knock them out before they even touched him. He was another target, according to All for One, but Shouto still didn’t understand why. All Might made sense, of course, but he didn’t know why a villain like him would ever be interested in a minor, underground teacher like Aizawa.

“-so they must have planned this.” Shouto froze as he overheard Yaoyorozu’s voice. 

“What?” He jerked his head in her direction. The stragglers, ones who escaped Aizawa’s frontal attack, crept closer to the groups of students. Kuroguri would be separating them any minute now. 

The dark-haired girl grimaced. “Think about it, Todoroki, they attacked this far off facility at the convenient time that a class with the number one hero just happened to be scheduled? They must have known, somehow. They have an objective; this isn’t just a random ambush.”

He was saved from stumbled out an answer by Thirteen grabbing his shoulder and Uraraka’s arm and shoving them toward the exit. “Come on, we need to evacuate!” They called over their heads.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that to happen.” Kuroguri‘s voice echoed around them. If Shouto wasn’t already used to the sound, it would have sent shivers down his spine. His classmates whimpered.

He twisted around, trying to follow the warping energy radiating in every direction. Kuroguri wordlessly morphed around them. Shouto had never seen such a large display of his quirk. Usually it was nothing more than simple portals here and there.

“Die, bastard!” Bakugou screamed with an echoing explosion. Shouto resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Kuroguri stuttered, purple energy waning for a moment. The redhead must have attacked him as well from the way the two teenagers fell backwards from Kuroguri’s body. Bakugou made a snarling noise, adjusting the metal pieces on his grenade gauntlets. 

Surely, that wasn’t enough to take down Kuroguri. Shouto frowned. He couldn’t see anything through the rushing of his classmates and the dark shadows around him. There was a single glimpse of his suit before it was disguised again.

If he was defeated, then they’d have no escape. The League would be over before even began. It wasn’t that he really cared about Tomura himself, but he was more worried about what would happen if they failed. He wouldn’t dare sell Shouto or Izuku out...he hoped.

“Bet you didn’t think we’d be able to do that before you attack us, huh?” The redhead grinned, stealing a proud glance at Bakugou.

“It’s no use, run, you two!” Thirteen screamed.

“I shouldn’t be surprised, you are the golden class of Yuuei, aren’t you?” Kuroguri voice rang through the entrance again. Shouto exhaled.

The smoke grew thicker, weaving between their classmates. Shouto shivered as some of it gathered over his left arm. He wondered if Kuroguri had singled him out yet. “Unfortunately, you’ll all only get in the way of our goal. Therefore, you’ll be...”

Someone bumped into him and he crashed through one of the dark portals. The air was stolen out of his lungs. Shadows swirled around him.He heard the warper’s voice echoing around him as he fell. 

“...scattered, tortured, and slain...I wish you luck, golden class.”

The landslide zone was as dirty as it was unstable. Shouto slammed into the ground, then skidded and slipped through another five meters of thick mud. 

“It’s one of those damn kids!” A gruff voice exclaimed before something rigid slammed into the crumbling dirt beside his head. 

Shouto rolled to the side, avoiding it narrowly. He gritted his teeth and reached out and grabbed onto the metal spike. In another instant, it was covered in ice crystals, growing taller and larger until he heard a scream. 

He looked up and met the eyes of a mutant quirk, currently frozen with his transformed hand trapped in ice. They were rapidly trying to jerk their hand back as the ice grew and covered their body. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you. You’ll rip off your skin.” Shouto said cooly. 

The mutant shrieked, demanding help from his gang of villains behind him. Shouto managed to find a foothold among the shifting landscape. He pressed his right hand to a unearthed tree trunk and activated his quirk again. 

He exhaled a frosted breath. Ice crinkled and chimed, covering the surrounding villains and stopping them in their tracks. There was a gasp from behind him, but when he turned, there were only more frozen villains.

“What the fuck?!” One of them struggled in their trap. “Damn brat, I’ll kill you as soon as I get out of this-“

“You’ll be waiting a long time.” Shouto picked a twig out of his hair disinterestedly. His eyes flickered upward. “If you don’t lose your limbs to frostbite first.”

He knew Tomura wouldn’t inform his minions about Shouto’s role, but he assumed that they’d at least be more of a challenge. At this rate, even someone like Bakugou would stand a chance. Maybe Kuroguri pitied him and purposely dropped him in the zone with the weakest of their forces. 

Shouto turned around toward the center of the facility. He could see little shapes moving around, Aizawa and the other villains. Tomura hadn’t entered the fight, standing aside and letting his forces take on the hero instead. 

There was another shape. A bulky, inhuman creature loomed over him. Shouto was too far away to try and figure out what it was, besides some type of mutant quirk. It was different than the others, religiously standing at Tomura’s side like it was waiting for an order.

He decided he should start toward the plaza. It was only a matter of time before All Might got here and Shouto suddenly didn’t trust Tomura’s actions anymore surrounding his classmates. He skidded down some of his ice, ignoring the shouts of the villains he had encased. 

Shouto stumbled into edge of the main plaza and slouched behind a large piece of rubble to avoid attention. The ground was spotted with abandoned bodies. He saw some stuttering chests, but a few were just still. That thing was holding Aizawa’s head up in a single, massive hand while the hero glared at Tomura.

“You are cool, Eraserhead. I get why Sensei likes you.” The villain commented absently. 

Shouto traced his form with his eyes and stilled. His outstretched hand was pressed to Tsuyu’s face. The girl was trembling, wide-eyed darting between Tomura and Aizawa. She must have been alone in the flood zone, water dripping off of her hair from where she was standing in the pool.

“His quirk is called Decay.” Izuku explained to him once. “He can destroy anything he presses five fingers to. It’s pretty painful, I think he killed someone when it first emerged, but no one has ever told me for sure.”

He was trying to kill her. 

Shouto pressed his right foot to the plaza’s tiles. Ice shot forward and trapped Tomura before Aizawa could shut his eyes. He looked awful, blood dripping down his face and staining his eyes. His clothes were ripped and stained and he had lost his capture weapon somewhere between the entrance and the hands of that monster.

Tsuyu dropped in the water, then resurfaced a few meters away. “Get out of here!” He called to the girl. She nodded frantically and hopped away. 

“All Might was supposed to be here!” Tomura seethed. “You lied! You said he’d be here!” He ripped out of the ice viciously as it dissolved under his touch. 

Shouto glared at him, but didn’t speak. He couldn’t be serious, Aizawa was right there. He stole a glance at the hero, currently getting his head smashed into the concrete by the mutant. Well, maybe he hadn’t heard him. He seemed to have other concerns right now.

“What is that thing?” He asked lowly. Shouto held out his left arm in warning. If Tomura wanted to attack him, he had no issues fighting back.

“It’s a nomu, an artificial human!” He declared proudly, like a child showing off his new Christmas present. “It’s going to kill All Might and your teacher!”

Shouto stole a glance up at the ceiling like he could imagine Izuku crashing through the glass dome to save him. Maybe this was all a test, or Tomura was more unhinged than he thought. He didn’t appear, so Shouto set his sights on the creature bashing his teacher’s head in. 

It was a sickening sight, all thick, tar black skin and mindless eyes. It’s face was bird-like with an cropped beak and an open head. It reminded him, fleetingly, of Chisaki. That couldn’t really be its brain, leaving it out in the open like that was a stupid design.

“It’s time to take the number one hero’s pride down a notch.” Tomura hissed. “Nomu, kill him.” Shouto took a step back, but the mutant only started to slam Aizawa’s head harder. 

“Wait-“ He held out a hand for him. Aizawa was unconscious in a crater of blood and broken tiles. 

“If you hadn’t helped out your friend, then it wouldn’t have to be him.” He growled viciously at Shouto. “You should remember who your real friends are.”

There had to be something he could do. This was all wrong. This couldn’t be what Izuku wanted. It wasn’t what Shouto wanted.

Fighting and screaming echoed from the other zones. The torn remains of Thirteen’s suit were discarded on the steps of the plaza like an old toy. There were still students trapped up there, clearly Kuroguri didn’t finish his job. 

Did he fight? 

He could take down Tomura, but he didn’t know if that was betrayal or what that creature would do if he managed that. Fire sparked on his fingertips.

This wasn’t what they agreed on. This wasn’t right.

“Never fear!” A booming voice shouted over Shouto’s head. He leaned back, mouth parted, to watch All Might soar over him. “For I am here!” The hero landed firmly in the center of the facility, directly between himself and Tomura.

Shouto took a step backwards, wide-eyed. 

“About time. Looks like we got a continue.” Tomura cackled behind his rotting hand. 

In a burst of air, Shouto was shoved against the wall of the plaza and All Might appeared on the other side with Aizawa’s limp body in one arm and Tsuyu, who had been hiding in another corner, in the other. He moved so fast, Shouto couldn’t follow him with his eyes.

So this was the quirk that could challenge Izuku’s All for One. 

Tomura was a fool if he thought that creature stood a chance.

“Young Asui, please take your teacher and help him to the exit with the rest of your class. I’ll hand these villains.” He must not have noticed Shouto in the corner. He was well hidden by crumbling concrete and a uniform of cracking mud. 

“Nomu.” Tomura’s voice was quiet, but the mutant lumbered forward and suddenly it was in front of All Might. Again, Shouto could barely follow the movements. 

Wind tossed his hair and clothes as the nomu crashed into All Might’s. Shouto curled his fingers into the bricks of the wall behind him. He didn’t know if he should run or stay. He had a purpose to serve, he couldn’t just leave. 

Tomura laughed, a noise that sounded like it belonged to someone far younger. “His shock absorption keeps your hits from landing, you’d have better luck slowly and steadily scooping out his guts!” He taunted from the sidelines. 

“Thanks for the advice!” All Might called back cheerily. His steady smile was unnerving. He appeared behind the nomu. “I’ll try that!” Then, the hero proceeded to pick up the creature by the waist and throw it into the ground. 

Yet, in another movement, Kuroguri’s portals appeared. The nomu was split in half, sinking into the ground in the same way that All Might was. 

For a single second, there was silence. All Might was locked in a standstill with the creature, Kuroguri appeared behind Tomura, and Shouto stiffened as the hero finally caught sight of him in the furthest corner of the plaza.

No more hiding. He had a part to play. 

“No more funny business, shadow bastard!” A scream cut him off. Smoke exploded before him as Bakugou skidded into the fight. The redhead was on his heels. 

Shouto pressed his palm to the ground and ice bloomed. He trapped the bottom half of the creature and glared in Tomura’s direction bitterly. This was all his doing, all of these mistakes were his.

“He’s hiding his real body with those damn portals.” Bakugou, somehow in a crashing explosion of smoke and fire, managed to pin Kuroguri. He cackled in a way that made him wonder what side the blond really should belong on. “Don’t try it, asshole, make another one of your shitty portals and you’ll have an explosion right here.” His sparking hand was pressed to the metal surrounding Kuroguri’s neck. Shouto felt a pang of sympathy for the villain.

He didn’t know enough about his quirk, but Bakugou must be on to something because Kuroguri didn’t move. Tomura scoffed. “Get your hands off my revolving door. You’re annoying. Nomu, take care of the explosion boy over there.”

Shouto knew he probably should move, but he found some part of himself, deep down, satisfied that Bakugou might be injured. It was revenge for all the things he did, whether Tomura about that connection or not. 

A disgusting tearing noise distracted him. His eyes darted toward the nomu, only to see the creature pull itself from the ice and sink into Kuroguri’s warp gate. 

It ripped itself apart, a gaping hole where it’s limbs used to be. Torn skin and muscles and black blood splattered on the ground. Destroyed tendons swung as it freed intself and lumbered to its feet.

“What the fuck is that thing?!” The redhead cursed and stumbled backwards away from the nomu. 

He looked in Shouto’s direction for some time of support, but he was in the dark as well. He observed in mild horror.

Muscle spiraled and twisted from the bloody hole. It’s frostbitten body knitted itself back together again, rapidly shaping into bone, tissue, and finally stretched skin. The worst part was the sound, the ripping and stretching and tearing of regeneration. 

It flexed it’s regrown muscles. Abruptly, the creature shot forward like a bullet.

Shouto was suddenly frozen in place, unable to anything but watch. 

Then, Bakugou landed soundly at his feet. Shouto blinked at his classmate blankly, then back up at the creature. 

There was no way he could have dodged that thing. 

The dust cleared. All Might stood in Bakugou’s place. Kuroguri vanished, then reappeared behind Tomura again. 

Regeneration and shock absorption, that was two quirks. No one had two quirks. It was impossible.

No one besides...Izuku and his father. 

There was a reason there weren’t people walking around with multiple quirks. Like severe brain damage and stuff. This...this thing was what happened. Shouto stared at the creature in disgust. 

If it was here, if it existed at all, then did Izuku know? 

Tomura screamed orders and ideals over his head, but Shouto couldn’t tear his eyes from the nomu until it moved again. All Might trapped it in a repeatitive bash, trading hit for hit. 

Shouto gritted his teeth and twisted his ankle to form an ice chunk behind himself. It kept him in place, while his remaining classmates struggled to keep their footing with the raging winds. All Might must not care where the echoes of his punches landed. He saw the redhead fall and slam his chin into a piece of concrete as the sound of shattering glass resonated over his head. 

He looked up to see the gaping hole in the middle of the glass dome. It rained down, slicing through his skin and forcing his eyes shut. 

“You used cheats! That’s not fair!” Tomura shrieked. He started toward the thick dust in the center of the plaza. Shouto could see All Might’s limp hair floating among it. “I’ll do it myself, I’ll defeat the final boss for my Sensei!”

Gunshots echoed around the facility and Tomura crashed to the ground. Shouto dropped to the ground in his own defense. Crimson splattered behind the pale villain.

“The heroes!” The redhead cried from somewhere far away. “They’re here! Iida got out in time!”

Shouto stayed crouched behind his blistering ice. He watched blood pool around Tomura’s limp body. With a disappointed sigh, Kuroguri slouched. He grasped Tomura and they both vanished. 

For a shaking, silent moment, everything was frozen. 

Shouto saw the shapes of his teachers through the fractures of his ice. Bakugou and the redhead were scrambling to safety behind him, toward their saviors, but Shouto couldn’t force himself to move. He could still hear the echoes of the gunshots, Kuroguri’s sigh. That nausea from the bus had returned in full force. 

It was over. Someone had lost, but Shouto wasn’t so sure who it was anymore.

He tilted his head up. Sunlight warmed his chilled skin. Blood dripped down his forehead. The smoke around All Might had almost cleared.

The man standing there was not the number one hero. His hair was dull and dirty and messy. His skin was bloody and ashy, nothing more than something to be stretched over old bone. The single eye he saw was sunken, so hollow that Shouto could barely make out the blue pigment. Something about him reminded him of a blurry video and a middle school screen.

He was not All Might, the Symbol of Peace, the unstoppable number one. He was not even a hero.

He was just a skeleton pretending to be human. 

They didn’t let them go home, not until everyone’s injuries could be accounted for and they could understand what had happened inside of the facility before All Might arrived.

Shouto had been one of the first patched up. He twisted his ankle, at some point, but the pain was practically gone with a kiss to his forehead. Some band-aids were slapped on the worse of his cuts and he was abandoned on the street’s curb. A few detectives came by asking for statements already, but several seemed to turn away at the mere sight of him. He supposed his father’s overall rudeness with anything public was a good thing, occasionally. He sat on the edge of the pavement, wrapped in his own silence and the mud of the landslide zone. 

Some students had clustered together. Some had remained close to the teachers or the paramedics who arrived just minutes later. He was left alone, until a young woman in a police uniform wearily approached him a few minutes or hours later. 

She cleared her throat. “You’re, um, Todoroki Shouto, right?” 

“Yes.” He looked up at her.

“Eraserhead wants to speak with you.”

“He’s awake?” The last time Shouto had seen him, he had been unconscious and being shoved in the back of an ambulance.

“Yes, one of the hospital’s healers already treated him...but he’s refusing to leave before he speaks to you.” She answered. Shouto pushed himself off of the curb and followed behind the woman. 

They weaved through the maze of heroes, police, and medical workers. Shouto hadn’t recognized his father among them yet, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he appeared before the day was done. 

He hadn’t seen All Might either. 

Aizawa was dressed in nearly full body bandages in the back of an ambulance. Only his eyes were visible among the pale lines of bandages and messy knots of dark hair. The man’s gaze swept the area before stopping on Shouto. 

He stopped. 

He knew. 

“Todoroki?” The policewoman peered over her shoulder. “Is something wrong?” 

“No.” Shouto forced out. 

He took a step, then another and another toward his demise. 

Aizawa knew. They were surrounded by heroes and police. He had no way out, no escape, and Aizawa knew.

The woman nodded to Aizawa and left them alone. Shouto closed his fists in the dirty material of his uniform. He debated whether he should run now, or after Aizawa had his say. He didn’t stand a chance, here and now, but maybe he’d be lucky. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to go home and face his father tonight.

“Todoroki,” Aizawa spoke simply, despite the sharpness to his eyes. The bandages made for a deadly contrast. “the attack today-“

“Hey! Todoroki!” Shouto flinched at the cheery voice behind him. He didn’t have to turn before a whoosh of air told him someone just moved in front of him. A pair of gloves grabbed his hands and squeezed. “There you are, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Tsuyu appeared on the other side of the gloves with a thin smile and a hollow gaze. He managed to remember her name at the last second. “Hagakure.” He spoke in a strangled tone. “Tsuyu. What’s wrong?”

“I just wanted to say thanks today!” The invisible girl continued. “You totally wiped out those bad guys in the landslide zone. It would have been super scary dealing with them alone, I’m glad I got thrown in your zone!”

Shouto blinked at where he assumed was her face. He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. “What?”

“And the hand villain.” Tsuyu added. “I don’t know what happened, I just...froze up, but you moved so quickly. I might have been seriously injured if you didn’t show up.”

“What?” He repeated.

“The landslide zone!” Hagakure clarified. “You froze all those villains! It was so quick!” 

She had been there. She had been there and he didn’t even realize it. 

“Oh. I didn’t notice you, but...” He continued slowly, truthfully. “you’re welcome. It’s...what heroes do?” Shouto answered lamely.

“Yeah!” Hagakure cheered. “I’ll see you later, I think they’re finally letting us go home now!” She dropped his hands and Tsuyu followed her silently with nothing more than an appreciative nod and a quiet thanks.

Shouto blankly watched the girls leave. He was momentarily distracted from his impending doom until Aizawa cleared his throat. He twisted back toward his teacher and waited for him to speak again. 

“I should let them take me to the hospital.” Aizawa finally conceded after a long moment of silence. 

Shouto furrowed his eyebrows. “But...what were you going to say?”

“Nothing.” He exhaled. “It was a hunch, but I’m glad you’re alright, Todoroki.”

He was left standing in the middle of the street as Aizawa’s ambulance rolled away. 

Voices and sirens surrounded him from all sides. People bumped into him as they passed him, children hugging their parents, medics treating their patients, heroes wondering how this could have possibly happened. 

Even with all the noise and bodies and energy, he stared dimly at the distant skyline. Even though it was stupid and impossible and silly, he wished Izuku was here beside him.

Chapter Text

“How could you not tell me?!” Izuku shouted. 

His father looked up casually from his desk. “Good afternoon, Izuku. I see you’re home.”

His office’s door rebounded from the wall it slammed against. He stormed up to his desk furiously. “Did you see what happened?! He was trying to kill people, students! Teachers! And that thing-”

“Once he wakes up from his surgery, I will have a discussion with Tomura about Eraserhead. He knows he was on the no kill list.” Dad interrupted calmly. There was a hint of aspiration in his voice.  

“That’s not the issue!” Izuku protested. “Those were innocent people! They were just teachers doing their jobs. Thirteen is a rescue hero! They work exclusively with natural disasters and they m-might-“

“You knew there were going to be risks.”

“What if something had happened to Shouto?!” Izuku argued. His hands trembled and his voice cracked at the idea.

“He knew what he signed up for.”

“How can you say that?! They’re innocent people! They’re students! They’re the same age as I am, what if it had been me?! What if I had been there?” He demanded.

“You weren’t. It wasn’t you and it will never be you.” Dad answered firmly. His gaze darkened with ugly memories. “Those children aren’t as innocent as you’d like to believe, you’ve been at mercy of some of them already and I’m sure you can tell me how innocent they are.” His tone ended with a bitter note.

“So this is about Kacchan?” Izuku hissed. “I don’t want him dead!”

“He’s not dead.” 

Izuku clinched his fists. “That’s not-“

“You knew this was dangerous.“ His father spoke cooly. His nonchalant sentiment about the entire discussion only set Izuku on fire. “It will get worse before it gets better, I thought you knew that. There must be sacrifices for the greater good, to get to the end.”

“But it doesn’t have to be like that!” He cried desperately. 

He stood in one movement. Izuku stiffened. He pressed his mouth into a line and glared up at his father firmly. 

He wouldn’t budge on this. He couldn’t.

“Izuku, you are idealistic and you are kind. Those are admirable traits, but they will not help you in this world.” His father said. He frowned in that parental way that made Izuku feel small and naive. Disappointment practically radiated off of him. In a kinder tone, he continued. “If there was an easier way to get things done, don’t you think I would have done it a hundred years ago?”

“It c-can’t...” He swallowed harshly. 

“Don’t act like you’re a stranger to this. You don’t think I notice when you come home smelling like river water?” Izuku nearly flinched. “You knew what might happen and you agreed. I don’t care if you don’t want to be involved anymore, I won’t force you to continue if you don’t want to, but you can’t say that this is unexpected.” He spoke sharply. 

“T-That’s different-“

“The heroes do not hold back against us. They will not hold back, not even in the face of an innocent man or woman or child.” His father frowned. “You saw what happened to Tomura. We can’t afford to play the defensive game, we won’t get anywhere like that.”

This wasn’t right. 

Deep down, he knew it wasn’t right, but it wasn’t wrong either. It was that dirty, miserable knowledge Izuku liked to push aside. He didn’t want this to be their reality. He wished it was different, but if he said that aloud then Dad would just answer that’s what they were fighting for. 

Shouto’s face flashed in his mind. The twist of his features, staring up at that creature and Tomura and Kuroguri. It wouldn’t have appeared like anything odd to anyone else, but Izuku saw straight through him. 

“That thing...nomu.” Izuku corrected quietly. “How did it have multiple quirks?” He knew the answer. He wished he didn’t.

Dad inspected him for a moment, probably wondering if he could handle the truth, possibly speculating the sudden change in topic. His knuckles turned white on the back of the chair he stood in front of. 

“It’s a project an...associate and I have been working on. I gave it those quirks.” He answered carefully.

“It...T-They were human?” Izuku shook his head slowly, dazed. “No, no, h-how could you?!”

“Izuku–“

“Where did they come from?! Who were they before you did that to them?!” He shouted. Frustrated tears formed in his eyes. “You! You were the one who told me I could n-never give someone multiple quirks, because that’s what would happened!”

His father faltered, pausing on the edge of his desk. “It’s an artificial human.”

“But they were human once, weren’t they?! They’re only artificial because of what you did!” He cried. “How can you draw the line?!”

“It’s a means to an end.” Dad argued. “It exists so that other lives aren’t put in danger, so that someone like Tomura or me or you doesn’t have to fight. It takes orders and fulfills a purpose. It was already on the brink of death, it was saved for the greater good.”

“There isn’t going to be a greater good if these are the ways we’re getting there!” Izuku snapped. He flinched at the echo of his own voice. His fingernails made crescent shapes in his palm. 

His father merely blinked at him. Momentarily, there was a glimpse of surprise across his face. Then it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. 

He moved around his desk, emotionless. “I understand you’re upset, but these things aren’t up for discussion. The League will proceed as planned and one day, I hope that you’ll understand why it had to be done this way.”

Izuku had a hard time believing that day would ever come. He opened his mouth to retaliate again, but his father interrupted him before he could even take a breath. “Now, if excuse me, I need to go check on Tomura’s condition.”

Then he was gone. 

Izuku sniffled and dropped to the floor in a single, miserable movement. A shaky sob rose out of him as he crashed. 

Maybe it was naivety to believe it wasn’t supposed to happen like that, but Izuku had imagined their first appearance to be something far different. Sometimes, violence was the only option. Izuku had seen it happen before. He had resorted to it himself, but he’d never dare to start with it. 

League of Villains, sure, but that was just something stupid Tomura came up with. It was the label thrust upon them by the rest of the world, not what he chose. It wasn’t what he wanted to be. 

It might be hours before he was back. Mom had been out all morning on their weekly grocery trip, so he couldn’t even talk to her either. 

His face was hot and probably blotchy with tears. Izuku tried to wipe them away, but it was no use. They were only replaced.

This was pathetic. He was pathetic. Of course, his father thought he was a naive child, he was sobbing alone on the floor of his office. 

Even worse, Shouto would be contacting him soon, probably wondering what the hell happened today, and Izuku didn’t have an answer for him. He had no idea what he was going to say.

A creak sliced through the dimly lit office. Izuku stiffened, then rubbed at his face furiously. He forced himself to look up at the noise.

Wine-colored eyes peered through the new, wider space in the doorway. Eri looked small, smaller than she should be, shrinking in on herself. Her posture was tense. Her gaze carefully darted around the room for any type of threat.

Izuku’s already crushed heart fizzled and died. His expression fell at the girl’s haunted, trained demeanor. 

She probably heard them yelling. He hadn’t even said anything to her when he got home before he had rushed into the office. He could hear distant cartoons playing on the living room’s screen.

“Where’s Hisashi-san?” She whispered. 

“G-Gone.” 

“Forever?” 

Izuku dug his fingernails into his jeans. “No. Just...for now.”

“You’re sad.” Eri crept inside the room, seemingly satisfied with the space. She wandered closer, more puzzled than scared. That was good, at least.

He laughed wetly and wiped at his cheeks again. “N-No. I’m fine. I’m sorry for being loud.”

“You’re...mad?” She paused in front of him. 

With him kneeling on the floor, their faces were at the same height. He counted the little cats on her sweater before he answered.

Mad, sad, frustrated, angry, upset, disappointed, he could go on for hours naming all the bubbling, exploding feelings inside him. 

Eri didn’t have that much patience. She straightened and held out her arms on each side. Then she stared at him with an adorably determined expression.

“What are you doing?” Izuku asked when she didn’t move.

Her eyebrows knit together, confused with both herself and him. “You do this when I’m sad. It helps.” 

He observed her again, then smiled weakly. “O-Oh...you’re offering a hug?”

Izuku pulled her closer and sighed. It wasn’t like his parents, or even the few times he and Shouto hugged. Eri was too small and, frankly, mostly stiff in his arms. Her horn poked his cheek. She was still such a stranger to positive contact, strained even though she wanted to help. She probably didn’t even realize it. 

The gesture itself was bittersweet enough to bring him to tears again. They shook his body and his embraced tightened. 

Eri tensed. 

He sniffed in the form of a sob. “I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry-”

The girl gripped the sleeves of his shirt. She breathed in deeply before releasing her posture in a sigh. “It’s okay...” She recalled hesitantly. 

The call came half an hour later.

Eri had returned to her spot on the couch after awkwardly allowing him to cry in her hair. She didn’t get it, probably didn’t even know what the argument had been about. She only heard the noise.

In hindsight, he probably should have gone in his room and had his peace, but she seemed to want to be supportive, even if she didn’t quite understand his problem. She kept giving him inspective glances from the furthest corner of the couch like she was checking on his current condition. 

Shouto’s caller ID appeared on the screen menacingly. Izuku stared distantly at his phone on the table as it rang. In his head, he counted the seconds.

His eyes darted up to Eri. She was watching him, clearly wondering why he was looking at his phone like it might bite him. 

“I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” His voice was hoarse.

“Okay.”

Izuku grabbed the phone and bolted into his room. He shut the door and slid to the floor. 

On the final ring, he answered.

“Izuku?” He whispered it. There was water running in the background. 

“Yeah.”

“What was that today?” There was a hurt tone to his voice. “That wasn’t the plan. Some of my classmates...they could have died.”

“I know.” His throat felt dry. 

“And the nomu– I don’t know what would have happened if All Might didn’t actually show up.” He continued bitterly. “I wasn’t told about some type of monster-“

“They’re not a monster.” Izuku interrupted hollowly. “They were human...once.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m sorry, I-I–“ His voice cracked. Izuku tilted his head back against door with a thump. “I didn’t know either, my...he didn’t tell me.”

There was a beat of silence, besides the distant water. “I’d like to be more informed next time.”

Izuku straightened. “Next time? There isn’t going to be one!”

“Tomura’s dead?”

“No! N-No, but...” He paused. “that’s not how I wanted this to happen. If we hurt and kill our way to the limelight, then aren’t we just the villains they call us? Those teachers, your classmates, they’re not the problem.”

“But you didn’t do anything.”

“I should have.” Izuku answered viciously. “I shouldn’t have stood by while Tomura went nuts and that nomu tried to kill everyone, I shouldn’t have. If it was anyone else, one of the students, or...or you-“

“I stayed out of the way as much as I could.”

“Tomura still might have hurt you.” He admitted quietly. 

“He’s an idiot. He was screaming and yelling. I’m lucky Aizawa was getting his head bashed in or he might have heard Tomura out me.” Shouto said.

Izuku scoffed and dropped his head onto his knees. Another minute of silence passed through the speaker. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“Don’t say that. You didn’t know.”

He should have asked more questions. He should have gone with the League. He should have fought and cried and begged for it. He should have threatened Tomura or warned Kuroguri or-

“I can hear you muttering.” Shouto interrupted quietly. “Today wasn’t your fault, Izuku. We’ll do better next time.”

“I don’t want there to be a next time if this is what happens. Next time might be worse.” Izuku answered.

Water filled the space between them. Izuku willed the tears in his eyes to disappear. He clinched his empty fist and pressed his knuckles into floorboard. There was a flash of pain when he reopened one of the split scabs on his skin. 

“I want to see you.” Shouto whispered, like it was a secret only for him. “I want to tell you it’s all going to be okay.”

The shattered pieces of his heart fit together for a moment, leaving him breathless. Izuku sniffled. “I want that, too.”

“The media, the school, they’re painting the League as monsters. It’s so hypocritical.” Shouto continued. “But that’s who they saw today, what I saw. We can’t let that happen again...What we’re working for, it’s the right thing, isn’t it?”

“I...think so.” Izuku swallowed harshly. “I want it to be. That people’s quirks aren’t suppressed for what they resemble and people like Endeavor and...K-Kacchan don’t exist and it isn’t all about popularity and images and appearances.”

The rushing water vanished with a creaking faucet. “Unfortunately, if I know anything about the hero world, it’s that the public matters. Heroes and villains, those are the words everyone knows, but they’re still words. I know you’re the most heroic person I’ve ever met, even if all my classmates would call you a villain. If we could only show them that, and prove that the current heroes aren’t their heroes then they’d be more open to change, right?”

“I don’t understand, how is that going to fix USJ?” 

“It probably won’t.” Izuku frowned. “It’s in the past and it was a mistake, but we can’t fix that now. We can only look forward.”

“So what are you suggesting?” He pressed. 

“I’ve been talking to my mom recently.” Shouto paused with an exhale. “My father is a prime example of everything that’s sour, isn’t he?”

“Wait, you want to–“ He cut off as something crashed on Shouto’s end.

“Fuck–“

“Shouto! What are you still doing in there?!” A gruff voice shouted from somewhere muffled. “Get out here!”

“I’ve got to go.” Shouto murmured, then promptly hung up.

Izuku stared at his call list for a moment. He wanted to expose Endeavor. He even wanted to bring his mother into it. The idea had shoved to the back of his mind for months, but Shouto was right. 

A less violent insurgence, something that could jumpstart the fall of everything the heroes believe in. The power lied in the people. If they only knew the truth, then they’d have to side with them, even if they had ugly names like villains.

But, he didn’t know if his father would ever agree to that. It would remove the need for the League, the nomu, everything he had been planning. There was no way, not after the way he reacted today when Izuku challenged it.

He closed his fists, tracing the lines across the floor and the lighter scars over his skin. The reopened cut had stopped bleeding. It left his knuckles stained. 

He couldn’t know.

“Shouto’s gonna be on TV?” Eri peeked over the edge of the counter at him. 

Izuku sent her a warm smile. The popcorn spun and popped in the microwave behind him. “He is, his whole class will be!”

“Now?”

“As soon as the snacks are ready.” Izuku nodded. 

The sports festival technically started about ten minutes ago, but he allowed it to play so they could get though all the introductory items. Shouto had sent pictures of his notebook pages to help Izuku identify all his classmates throughout the festival.

The microwave beeped loudly and he quickly poured the popcorn into a large bowl for them. He guided her into the living room and gave her the bowl as he collected his books, phone, and collection of stationery.

Watching the sports festival was practically a tradition at this point. For years, he’d position himself on the couch, occasionally with a parent on either side of him, and mutter about all the contestants quirks for a few days straight. When he was particularly bored or in the mood for analysis, sometimes he’d even go back and watch old clips online of previous festivals.

Today was his parents’ designated date night, but they had left early in the morning right when Izuku had gotten up. He welcomed the absence. It had been a few weeks since the USJ attack, but the tension between him and his father hadn’t grown any less suffocating. They had barely spoken a full conversation. 

Mom must have talked to him about it, because a few times he tried knocking on his door and attempting to make him see his point, but Izuku was too buried in hero-related policy to listen. He was angry and bitter and refused to budge on this.

At least League activity had practically halted due to Tomura’s injuries and the fact that the majority of their missionary forces had been defeated and arrested, so it was down to only Tomura and Kuroguri again. For now, Tomura was sulking over his failure and licking his wounds in the darkness of the bar, or wherever he lived. 

Maybe their silence was somewhat credited to his mother as well. He doubted she knew all the details, but it was hard to ignore the shift since the attack. She had let him cry on her shoulder for a couple of hours that day with no questions asked.

Eri curled up next to him, bowl balanced in her lap as she started mindlessly chomping on kernels. She watched the screen with interest. 

The announcer, Izuku was pretty sure it was Present Mic from the sound of his voice, was busy explaining the overall design of the festival. Izuku knew the speech already. The specific events and their rules were more important anyway.

“–and now, your competitors! First up, the hero course: Class 1-A and Class 1-B!” Present Mic exclaimed animatedly. 

The screen cut to the stadium and despite himself, Izuku smiled at the students walking out onto the field. He recognized a few from USJ, thankfully unharmed and grinning at the fan-filled stands. His eyes darted over the faces as the camera moved for someone familiar, but Eri spotted him first. 

“Shouto!” She announced and pointed at the top corner, where Shouto could be spotted standing between a bulky boy with a buzzcut and a dark-haired girl. 

He wore a pale, hesitant smile and Izuku’s heart fluttered. The dark blue shade of his uniform brought out his eyes as he scanned the rows of people surrounding him. He blended in perfectly among his classmates. Izuku let out a sigh as the next department was announced.

He had barely been able to see Shouto recently either. He limited in-person meeting because of Eraserhead and he could only talk on the phone when he was home alone or if he locked himself in the bathroom. It wasn’t very convenient, but hopefully they have an opportunity to see each other again soon.

It was only a matter of time before they would have to, once Tomura got his act together and his father managed to mitigate Mom’s anger. 

“Now, to kick off the events, a few words from your first-year representative. From Class 1-A, Bakugou Katsuki!” Izuku tensed at the name. Midnight stepped away from the microphone with a grin. 

Eri looked over at him curiously. “Hm?” He gave her a reassuring smile that was probably more of a reassuring grimace.

Kacchan stalked up the stairs. His posture was slouched, hands shoved in his pockets, but Izuku could see how he had grown since the last time he had seen him. He was all lines of muscle and dark blue fabric. The blond gripped the microphone and feedback echoed over the speakers. Eri cringed at the noise. 

“The rest of you extras can give up now,” Kacchan began. His voice was deeper than Izuku remembered. “because I’m going to be number one.”

The students behind him erupted in outrage and Midnight rushed over to take back the mic. He spotted Shouto roll his eyes and mutter something to a short brunette.

Izuku released the breath he had been holding. He shook his head with a strained smile. Some people never change. 

Shouto’s class was stunning. Scratch that, his entire year was amazing. There were support students and general studies students who actually made it into the third round, practically unheard of all the festivals he could remember. 

Halfway through the first event, he had already started scribbling notes and muttering to himself. Eri gave him a puzzled look, but didn’t poke fun at him. She was probably used to the noise by now. 

By the time the one-on-one matches began, he had a general description and half-filled page for everyone who had made it that far. Besides those he already knew, of course. 

Kacchan’s entry had a home in a burnt, crumpled notebook named Hero Analysis for the Future #1. It was unedited, still scribbled in a child’s handwriting.

It was no surprise when Kacchan continued to wipe out his competition on his mission to the top. Izuku was impressed with the brunette’s attempt to take the win from him, but unfortunately it wasn’t quite enough. So many people underestimated Kacchan’s intelligence due to his flashy quirk, but he had always had been right behind Izuku in their classes. 

Shouto was extraordinary. 

He stuck to his ice, probably because it was easier to trap and immobilize his opponents than to waste any time or energy trying to fight them. Even Iida, who must be the younger brother of Ingenium that Shouto mentioned, didn’t stand a chance. 

Massive glaciers shot forward the the blink of an eye as soon as Midnight announced the start. A frosted breath always left his lips as the camera panned around the damage. There was always a stilted moment of silence, then Present Mic would announce his victory. 

The crowd would erupt and Shouto would scan the scene for the meddlesome cameras. He made eye contact with one, right after his fight with Iida. 

A faint smile graced his face and, for a moment, it felt like Shouto could see him through the screen. Then the camera cut to the stadium and he was gone. 

Finally, it was just them. Their photos appeared on the screen, divided by a sharp versus. Izuku didn’t imagine it would end any differently, but he still didn’t like this conclusion. 

He furrowed his eyebrows as they both walked out on either side of the field. The people above them roared. Shouto wore a cold, dangerous expression. 

Izuku clutched the pages of his book, then decided to set in on the table before him so he didn’t permanently wrinkle any pages. Eri, who had lost interest half an hour ago, was busy doodling on the table before him with his extra pens. She glanced at him, then the screen, then back at her crude rabbit drawing without a word. 

“–and start!” Midnight cried, raising her whip in the air. 

Ice shot forward, trapping Kacchan in an instant. That wouldn’t be enough to hold him. 

Izuku saw the cracks before Present Mic announced them. The pillar of ice shattered in a clashing explosion. Shouto dropped into a defensive position.

In an impressive maneuver, Kacchan shot from the remains of his trap. Izuku flinched at the first explosion that sent him over Shouto’s head. He somersaulted over him, gripping onto his shoulders. 

Shouto gritted his teeth and twisted on his heel. In a sweeping movement, fire burst from his left side. Before Kacchan could shove him to the ground, he was blown backwards by the flames. 

His friend exhaled smoke. The left sleeve of his uniform was in tatters. 

Kacchan wasn’t one for patience, so he rushed forward again. He attacked Shouto in a blistering, full-frontal attack, but Shouto created a ice wall behind himself before he was thrown out of the ring. The blond screamed something, probably a curse from the shape of his mouth. 

He slammed his foot down and created another rushing ice attack as Kacchan ran forward again. Shouto managed to grab onto him as they met and slam him into his ice wall. Izuku winced as he watched Kacchan’s head hit the thick wall. 

Blood dripped down his forehead when he got to his feet. Shouto stood away from him, panting. They stared at each for a moment before Shouto spoke quietly. There were no microphones, so Izuku had no idea what he could have said. 

Whatever it was, it managed to piss off Kacchan further. Although, that was incredibly easy to do from Izuku’s experience. He nervously gripped the edge of the couch. 

With a silent roar, Kacchan threw himself toward Shouto. Explosions popped in both hands, building and growing. 

Shouto didn’t move. He merely watched, emotionlessly cold. 

Kacchan launched himself into the air. He darted toward Shouto. Vicious curses and screams left his mouth. His friend sidestepped. 

In a delicate movement, the screen lit up. 

White hot fire climbed up the walls of the arena. Only Shouto’s silhouette was visible from this angle. His left arm was forward, alight with his quirk. White hair turned a sunset red. Kacchan vanished in the flames. 

Present Mic was screaming, but only silence rung in Izuku’s ears. He stared, wide-eyed at the screen. 

He didn’t breathe until the smoke cleared. The field was ruined. Crumbled concrete obstructed the view as the cameras switched between each other, trying to find a clear shot. 

Ash floated in the air like snow. The entire audience held their breath. 

Kacchan was in a heap on the ground. His uniform was burned and ruined, only held together by strips of charcoal-black cloth. His skin was grey, streaked with crimson. His broken fingernails dug into the cracks of the ground as he raised his head and Shouto...

He was ethereal. 

The angle changed, appearing behind Kacchan’s head. The left half of his shirt had burned away. Sweat carved a path on his skin. Crimson bled messily into snow. He exhaled heavily, standing over Kacchan. His eyes reflected rippling emotions. They glowed with the aftershock of his flames. 

He said something else and Izuku traced the words with his eyes. 

It cut back to Kacchan and, for a single moment, something like fear flashed in his red gaze. Then it morphed into vicious anger. That look made Izuku want to curl up inside himself. He dug his nails into his skin and swallowed roughly.

Just as Kacchan started to shove himself upward, Present Mic found his voice. “B-Bakugou is out of bounds!” His face fell. The camera shifted and displayed Kacchan’s shoe, centimeters over the cracking white painted line of the outer field. 

“–and first place goes to Todoroki Shouto!”

Chapter Text

Iida was missing from the last podium. 

Shouto noticed his absence as an afterthought, in between the banging of Bakugou’s metal restraints against the pole they had tied him against. He resisted the urge to smirk at the blond, who was too busy seething on national television to accept his silver medal from All Might. 

Someone had strapped a muzzle to his mouth, but Shouto could still hear his furious screams and threats, mostly directed at Shouto. All Might struggled to decorate him with the silver ornament while wearily making eye contact with the other teachers on the sidelines. Tokoyami looked as uncomfortable as Shouto felt.

The cameras swept around them. Their reflective lens showed off the roaring crowd over their heads. 

Shouto bit his tongue when the hero approached him with his ever-wide smile. He tilted his head without a word and allowed him to decorate him in gold. 

Shouto couldn’t get that blurry video out of his mind. That crippled skeleton that stood in his place at USJ. 

Then, when the hero hugged him and Shouto had to resist flinching away with every fiber of his being, All Might spoke, “Your father must be so proud.”

Shouto would have thrown up, but he never ate lunch.

Iida was still missing when the cameras stopped rolling.

“So, anyway, I was thinking if we could somehow link your brother’s death to your father, that’d be an easy hit. Afterwards, everything would snowball, you know?” Izuku continued. He flipped a page in his notebook, then looked up fishing for Shouto’s opinion. 

“I don’t know if Touya’s dead.” He answered honestly. “I don’t really remember him much.”

“He’s been missing for almost ten years, according to the police case I found.” Izuku began gently, clearly tip-toeing around the topic for no reason. Shouto just said that he didn’t remember him. “You were young at the time, and it might be too sensitive of a topic for your mom, but maybe one of your siblings would want to testify or could tell us something. He can’t be anything, but dead, right?”

Shouto exhaled and shrugged. “I guess so.” He busied himself by staring up at the watercolor sky. He heard the shuffling of papers to his left.

The park, somewhere close to Izuku’s old middle school, was nearly deserted at this hour. A few stray students passed by them on the way home from school, but no one spared even a glance in their direction. See Me Not was helpful for this kind of things. 

Pink bled into sunset orange. Cloud turned yellow with sparkling sunlight as the sky steadily grew darker. “Shouto?” 

“Hm?”

“Do you really want to do this?” He looked back at Izuku curiously. 

“Expose my father?”

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “I know you were upset after USJ, I was t-too, but if you’re not ready or you don’t think this is the right move, you know you don’t have to do this.”

Shouto didn’t answer for a moment. His closed his hand in the grass. Bakugou’s burns from the Sports Festival were just starting to clear up into faded pink skin. “I’m interning with him next week.”

Izuku squeaked. “What?! Why would you do that?”

“I’m still lacking with my left side. He’s the only person who can teach me that. Besides, he’s the number two hero and All Might isn’t taking interns. It makes sense.” He explained.

“What he does isn’t teaching.” Izuku answered bitterly. 

He smiled shortly, daring a glance at his friend. The sky reflected a pretty pink on his cheeks. “I wouldn’t sign up for it if I couldn’t handle it. Besides, I might as well learn what I can while he’s still allowed to be around me. I assume he’ll lose custody once this is all revealed.”

“What does your mom say about it?”

Shouto shrugged as he recalled the various conversations about it. The topic had been gradually approached, and, of course, he didn’t mention anything about Izuku or the League. “She says it’s a long thing coming. She wishes she had done something earlier. She’ll help where she can.” 

It was a lot of heresy. There was only so much they could claim, especially in the face of a nationally adored pro-hero. If they had something more substantial than their word, then it would be airtight, but his father was smart. He knew what he was doing. Something substantial didn’t exist. 

Izuku waited in silence for a moment. He creased and uncreased a corner of his notebook before finally shutting it. “Did you hear about Ingenium?”

“Iida’s brother?”

“Yeah. He’s been paralyzed by a stray vigilante. He’ll have to retire after this.” 

“I didn’t know you were a fan.” Shouto returned. He supposed that explained Iida’s off behavior all week. He wasn’t close enough to ask, but now that he thought about it, he remembered hearing Yoarashi scream something about Ingenium earlier in the week.

“I’m not.” Izuku frowned. “I actually dislike the Iidas’ position in heroics, it’s not a good idea to promote families that dominate the field or are exclusively heroes because it creates an aristocracy and discourages the incorporation of new heroes because they’re not from those families.” 

“And it leads to families like mine.” He spoke what he left unsaid. Izuku spared him a disappointed glance, but nodded quietly. 

“Anyway, the point was that you should probably stay away from the Hosu area. It’s where the Hero Killer has been spotted a lot recently. Interning with your dad will be fine.” He said. 

“If they’re called the Hero Killer, why didn’t they kill Iida’s brother?” 

“I’m not sure. I’m curious about his quirk, but no one knows how he’s taken down his victims. He’s a vigilante, but everyone’s been labeling him as a villain recently.” Izuku brought his knees up to his chest. He picked at a blade of grass beside his hand. Shouto could practically feel the heat radiating from his skin. “He’s reckless, actually. Killing all the heroes, getting rid of people who don’t fit his agenda, well that doesn’t make him any better than everyone who outcasts those with villainous quirks.”

“I guess so.”

“It doesn’t really matter.” Izuku tilted his head and met Shouto’s gaze. He smiled quietly. “I don’t think he’d go after someone like Endeavor, even if it’s warranted. He hasn’t attacked any students either, not that we know of. You should be safe there.”

“What about you?” 

Izuku blinked in surprise. “What about me?”

“Are you going to Hosu?” 

“Maybe.” He curled the blade around his finger. “Tomura’s mostly healed up. He’s been especially pissed about the Hero Killer because he’s been getting more media publicity than the League. I’m not sure what they’re planning, I think my dad has purposely been keeping me out of the loop since USJ, but they end up going then I will, too.”

Images of USJ flashed in his mind. The gunshots echoing through the facility. The way Tomura dropped so easily. “You’ll be careful, right?” 

“Yeah.”

Shouto bit his lip. He moved forward and grabbed Izuku’s hand. His friend froze under his touch, even though it was his fire side. “Please be careful, Izuku.”

He stared back with wide, golden eyes. His lips parted slightly. Sunlight melted on his features. Izuku eventually, slowly nodded. 

His fingers tightened in Shouto’s. “I will. I promise.”

His father’s agency was about as bland and soulless as his father himself. It was a sleek, glass building with too many floors and an insane amount of boring interns and sidekicks. 

Because of school policy, thankfully Shouto was spared having to spend his week at home. Interns were required to stay in agency housing, which was available to all interns, sidekicks, and heroes signed with the agency.

Another positive was the fact that his father was barely around. He was, at least, decent at his job. He didn’t bother with Shouto besides allowing him to follow behind his and his sidekick’s patrols. It meant there wasn’t any extra one-on-one time, but also that Shouto spend every second of every day of the beginning of the week on patrol. 

Therefore, on the third day, right after he finished his lunch, he was surprised when his father stormed into the intern lobby and told him to pack up his things and get ready to leave. 

“Why, where are we going?” Maybe the school had asked their internships to conclude early. Shouto could only hope.

“Hosu.” His blood chilled. 

“What? Why?” He demanded. Shouto scrambled up and followed after his long stride.

His father scoffed. “The Hero Killer has been spotted there twice in the same week. The agencies there don’t have the capacity to handle someone like him, so I’m going. As my intern, so are you.”

“You just want the publicity for stopping him.” Shouto snapped. 

He turned on his heel to face him and Shouto stiffened. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything here, in the middle of his agency. It’d be political suicide, but his body tensed anyway. “I want a villain to be put down. End of discussion, either get ready and meet me in the lobby or stay here. I don’t care.” He concluded shortly.

With that, he left Shouto standing in the middle of the hallway. He scowled and ignored the questioning glance Burnin’ sent him. She probably heard the entire exchange from her office. 

There was no part of him that thought going to Hosu was a good idea, especially not after what Izuku said, but it didn’t look like he had much of a choice. It’d be suspicious if he was so adamant about not going. He rarely defied his father about that kind of thing. 

With a heavy sigh, Shouto started toward the elevator. At the very least, maybe he’d get a glimpse of Izuku. 

There were more of those creatures.

“Nomu...” Shouto exhaled like a whisper, smoke in his lungs as he stared at the damage before him. His body was frozen. He couldn’t force himself to tear his eyes from the destruction of the city block.

No wonder All for One wouldn’t tell Izuku about this. He never would have stood by and let them release these creatures on an innocent city. Now, that begged the question: was Izuku here tonight?”

“Shouto!” His father snarled from somewhere. Fire exploded around one of them, fizzling through its chest like an arrow. “Move! Evacuate the civilians!” He barked.

He forced himself into action and rushed behind his father. With his ice, he pushed up an overturned car and helped a woman and her son scramble out from underneath. The boy was bleeding, cradled in his mother’s arms. “Head in that direction. You’ll find some support heroes and an ambulance there.” He instructed. 

Before either could answer, the fire hydrant behind them exploded. She shrieked and ran off in the direction he pointed in. Shouto poised himself for an attack, but the rushing water was quickly directed toward a gaining nomu. Shouto spotted a hero in white and blue.

“Manual! You take the winged one!” A sidekick called. The water hero nodded firmly and waved his hand to change the direction of the hydrant’s water. 

The teenager frowned and squinted at him. He knew that name. He recognized it for some reason. 

It wasn’t until he was accidentally doused with some water in the middle of helping a man in a suit toward the evacuation area. 

Manual. Hosu. Ingenium.

“Iida.” Shouto murmured. His eyes darted around the scene, but he didn’t spot the other student anywhere, even among the damage.“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He hissed as it dawned on him.

Shouto turned away from the fight and ran. If Iida wasn’t here, then he was either at the evaluation zone or he was fighting the nomu at the train. He half-skidded on his ice and stumbled through the streets, but Iida wasn’t among the ambulances, nor was he trying to help keep raised train tracks from collapsing. 

He helped assist with some structural support for a moment as he wracked his mind. Maybe he missed him somewhere already. He had to be here, he remembered hearing Iida say Manual’s agency at lunch when they discussed their internships. He must be here.

The nomu suddenly screamed sharply. Shouto flinched and several of the sidekicks around him clasped their hands to their ears in an attempt to drown out the noise. He squeezed his eyes shut, but a metallic creaking above his head interrupted him. 

Shouto tilted his head up and his breath escaped him. 

Izuku balanced on an outcropped steel beam over their heads. He held out his hands and Shouto watched in wonder as pieces of the train car floated and melted together again with his quirks. The nomu continued screaming, keeping everyone’s attention on the noise rather than what was happening over their heads. 

His face was hidden under his mask, too focused on the damage to notice him, but occasionally his eyes flashed that golden green. 

Then he closed his fists and stepped off the edge of the tracks. He vanished in midair. In another second, the nomu stopped. It too leaped into the sky, toward the direction of burning buildings.

“What the hell?!” The sidekick to his left cried. “Who fixed the tracks?”

“They’re not fixed, it’s a rush job.” Another one said. “Get up to the train, help the rest of the passengers! This’ll probably be collapsing again in the next hour if we don’t lessen the weight!”

Shouto didn’t follow the order. He twisted on his heel and ran back into the streets. 

Izuku was here. 

He panted, his heartbeat crashed in chest. Shouto clinched his fists and twisted around in another back alley as he found himself at a dead end. There wasn’t any way to trace him after he teleported like that. Shouto was lost in the dark.

Frost climbed up his knuckles. Sweat made the cloth of his uniform sticky.

He wanted him here. He needed to find him, for reasons Shouto couldn’t put meaning to.

“-and you wielded your power for selfish reasons.” A deep voice like dripping blood echoed down one of the less travelled streets. Shouto turned his head toward the noise with a furrowed brow. “Will you ever stop thinking about yourself for a moment? You completely ignored the dying man beside you, just because of my presence.”

He stepped in the direction of the voice. Shouto’s breath slowed and he took another silence step. 

“Getting blinded by your own selfishness and acting out of your self interest makes you the furthest thing from a hero.” They continued. Shouto turned the corner with the shink of a blade. 

The smoky air lodged itself in his throat. 

“That,” Light reflected off the chipped sword. It rose in the air like the sunrise. “is why you must die.”

“Iida–“ Shouto cried out. Fire burst forward in his defense. 

The blade missed him by a centimeter as the Hero Killer fell backwards. He summoned an ice wall to divide them from the villain and rushed forward

“T-Todoroki-“ 

“Why the hell are you here?” He shouted in frustration. “Can you get up? We need to get out of here.”

Blood was pooled around his limp body, staining the cloth of his uniform. Shouto glanced at the villain, then back toward his fallen classmate. His eyes were open, wide and frantic. 

“I can’t move– His quirk, when he cut me–“ Iida managed. He exhaled shakily. 

The ice shattered with a crooked blade. Shouto tensed and stared down the villain, until he spotted another slumped form against the furthest wall. Just how many victims were he planning to take tonight?

If he contacted someone, even his father, Shouto wasn’t sure if they’d come. The main concern were the nomus destroying the city. The word of a teenager wouldn’t matter, if he could get out at all. If only he had the burner, but that was buried in his things in his room at his father’s agency. 

“I can see the struggle in your eyes.” The Hero Killer said. He licked his lips. “You want to leave them, to save yourself.“

“Todoroki! D-Don’t interfere, this doesn’t involve you.” Iida forced out. His body shook, although he took no measure to get up. 

Shouto whipped his head back and looked at the other in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?” He growled. “You’re going to lay down and die at his hands for what? Your brother’s revenge? Don’t tell me you were actually looking for him tonight.“

He straightened up and faced the villain before him. He had no choice. He’d have to hold his own here, until either his father showed up or someone else did. He dropped into a clear defensive position between the villain and his classmate. Keeping his distance was the best chance he had, especially if his quirk was what Iida described. There wasn’t any room for mistake, not here.

“Todoroki, please! Stay out of it! Run!” Iida shouted.

Shouto pointedly ignored him. With an ice sheet, Iida and the other hero’s limp bodies slid toward him. 

He wasn’t able to react before a blade swiped at his face. He didn’t feel the pain as it sliced through the dead skin of his scar, but when he twisted out of the way he watched his blood splatter on the concrete. 

In another second, the Hero Killer was in front of him. He gripped the front of his costume and dragged his tongue across his skin. Shouto shuddered and called forth an explosion of fire.

The villain slipped backwards and the whistling of wind distracted him. He looked up, only to notice a stray blade. Shouto managed to dodge under his ice. He panted, eyes darting for the next threat. His vision was blocked by the ice, probably not his best decision. 

He wiped the blood from his cheek and looked around for the knife from before. All of his attacks were so thought out, it felt like sparring with Izuku.

“You’re strong,” The villain’s voice called. “but obstructing your vision with an opponent clearly faster than you isn’t wise.” 

His left arm burned suddenly. He looked down and let out a choked gasp. Three knives had embedded themselves in his forearm. Shouto gritted his teeth as he clinched his fist. Pain bloomed as thick blood dripped down his limb. 

“Todoroki!” Iida shouted. 

Shouto turned and instantly spotted the edge of the Hero Killer. He forced down a sword, directly over his head. Shouto threw himself backwards. He narrowly dodged as the blade made a home in a crack in the concrete. 

Then the ice in his veins froze over. He stiffened against his will. His body wasn’t responding. His eyes darted around frantically, but as much as he tried, nothing changed.

The Hero Killer straightened up with a thin smile. He licked his lips and Shouto noticed that he stood directly beside the pool of crimson that had seeped out of the wounds in his arm. 

“A valiant effort to save your friend, I understand. However, it will not save their lives.” He spoke. 

“N-No. Stop–“ His breath fell out in ragged pants. Shouto couldn’t even turn his head to watch the villain approach Iida’s limp form. He gritted his teeth, sweat and blood washed away the grime of the alley. “Stop!”

This couldn’t happen. 

The sword raised in a valiant stance. His horrified reflection in the silver blade stared back at him.

The Hero Killer shifted, then glowed. He turned just as the sword ripped out of his hand.

It landed in Izuku’s grasp, glowing a wonderful green. His face refracted the color as he stared down furiously at the Hero Killer. 

The scene reminded him of a colder time. 

“Stendhal, but you’re going by Stain now, right?” Izuku greeted sharply. Venom seeped through his tone.

Despite himself, Shouto shivered. If he didn’t already know who was under that hood, the fondness he had felt under those green eyes so many times, he might have been more scared. An outsider might have called him terrifying, if the indication in Iida’s eyes meant anything. 

The Hero Killer smiled. “What an interesting collection of friends you have, Ingenium.”

He dropped the blade on the roof, then landed soundly on the concrete across from the Hero Killer. “I’m not sure what Shigaraki told you, but plans changed. You won’t be killing anyone else tonight.”

“This is far more important than him. I don’t like to kill innocents, but no one else will be interrupting me tonight.” Stain returned. 

In the blink of an eye, he had unsheathed another sword on his back and rushed forward. Shouto could only watch helplessly. His mind screamed to move, but he got no answers. Izuku skidded underneath the swipe, then appeared behind him. With a grunt, he propelled himself over the villain’s head, mimicking exactly what he had done to Shouto. 

Izuku managed to land a kick before Stain grabbed his ankle and threw him to the ground. He rolled out of the way of a knife. His other leg shot out to try and trip the villain, but the Hero Killer saw the movement and dodged. 

He scrambled to his feet and twisted around. Izuku had positioned himself between Shouto and the villain. His fists were raised, posture defensive as he waited for the next move. 

The Hero Killer suddenly smiled.

“I recognize you, child.” Izuku tensed. “You and me, we’re the same breed.“

Izuku shook his head slowly, then more firmly. He backed up, closer and closer to Shouto’s frozen body. “No, n-no, we’re not. I’m not like you.“

“Izu...” Shouto’s breath heaved in his tight lungs. 

He wanted to reach out and grab him, he was close enough now. He wanted to freeze the villain solid and hold Izuku so that he didn’t tremble like that anymore. 

His finger twitched. 

“E-Enough.” Iida growled. “I’m the one who inherited my brother’s name. I’m the one who mu-must–“

Izuku jerked his head toward Iida in surprise. Shouto saw a flash of irritation across his features, hidden by dark curls. “You’re kidding, right? You’re dishonoring him by doing this! Do you think your brother wants you to be a murderer in his name?” He protested. 

“You’re right.” Stain echoed. 

The villain’s footsteps picked up suddenly. His path arched around Izuku. He was avoiding the fight, because Izuku wasn’t the goal. 

They were. 

“It’s why he must die.” He moved before his friend could intercept him. Another knife was unsheathed, darting toward the space between Iida’s shoulder blades. 

Izuku scrambled for them, hand outstretched. “No!” He screamed. Green light flashed over his skin, but he wasn’t anywhere close enough to touch him. 

Shouto exhaled frost. The fingers on his right hand closed.

In tune, both Stain and Izuku faltered. His friend dropped to his knees with a choked noise with a hand fisted tightly in his hoodie. The villain only paused for a moment before continuing his rushed attack. 

Ice shot above Iida. Shouto stepped forward, throwing the villain into the alley’s wall with the force of his attack. 

“S-Shouto...” Izuku gasped. His wide eyes glittered with refracted frost. 

The villain crawled out of the ice trap. His tongue rolled out of his mouth as he stared down at them. Whatever credibility they might’ve earned was out of the window, he’d be killing all of them now.

“I-I don’t understand, you can move, but the others can’t. There must be a time limit or another consideration he didn’t mention.” Izuku snapped to attention before he could dissolve into muttering. “Doesn’t matter, s-sorry. I’ll distract him! Keep your distance, you’re bleeding too much.” 

“Right.” 

He threw out his left arm, ignoring the sharp pinprick pains, and summoned a burst of fire in the villain’s direction. Izuku ricocheted off the wall with an shout to attack him from the sky. It felt like the vigilante days, fighting together again. 

Shouto tensed his arm, trying to ignore the thick knives sticking out of him. He wanted to rip them out, but he knew he’d probably bleed out if he did that. White-hot flames curled around him. 

“Stop–“ Someone below him gasped. Shouto gritted his teeth. “Please, stop!”

“If you want this to stop, then stand up!” Shouto shouted furiously. “It’s not over yet!” 

A blade sliced through the flames. The throwing knife made a target out of Shouto, but Izuku was too busy with the villain to notice and Shouto had too much of a delay between the halves of his quirk to stop it in his path. 

He tried to slide of of the way, only to be shoved to the ground. Warm liquid dripped on his skin. Shouto dared to force his eyes up and met the glint of silver. Iida panted, knife embedded in his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Todoroki.” He gasped. “I’m sorry for involving you.”

“What the hell– Shouto!” A gruff voice shouted. Iida crashed to the ground in front of him and Shouto jerked his head toward the newcomer. 

His father flooded the scene, heat radiated off of his flames. 

Shouto looked back at Izuku and Stain frantically. He had managed to pin the villain, but his eyes had blown wide at Endeavor. Something flashed in his gaze, a split second decision as he shifted. Electricity flashed over his fingers. The Hero Killer’s final knife skidded across the concrete. 

“Shouto, what happened here?!” His father barked, gaining on him. 

He stepped forward and forced a sheet of ice toward them. Izuku stumbled out of the way, momentarily surprised. When Shouto threw a poorly aimed blast at him again, his friend’s face glowed with orange betrayal. 

Shouto narrowed his eyes at Izuku and the Hero Killer encased in ice. “They’re villains, the Hero Killer and his accomplice. They attacked us.” 

He must know Shouto didn’t believe that. It was all a show, but he didn’t dare show weakness in front of his father. He’d see right through him. 

Izuku didn’t move, couldn’t stop his eyes from darting around the scene. Shouto wanted to say something, yell at him to run and leave before more heroes arrived, but he didn’t dare. 

Endeavor gripped his shoulder with a burning hand and threw him behind himself. “Get down!” He snarled at Shouto.

He twisted around as something brushed the top of his head. A cut-off breath escaped him as the grey, winged nomu flew over. It swept lower and snatched Izuku out of his frozen stature. “Wha–Hey! Let me down!” He thrashed. 

Shouto watched in horror as he rose above them. The temperature bubbled and radiated off of his father. He jerked his head back at him to see a fireball explode into the air. “Wait–“

The winged nomu twisted sharply and avoided the blast. It dropped in the air and burst past Shouto and his father into the wider street. As they flew past, for a single second, he heard a familiar voice dripping in static. 

“Sensei said it’s time to come home.”

The hospital room’s door was creaky. It announced each and every time it opened, which made it rather hard to nap.

This time it was only Iida, returning from walking his mother back to the waiting room. No one else from his family could make it. From what Shouto overhead of their conversation, they weren’t dealing well with having two brothers hospitalized because of the same villain. 

“How’s your arm?” He asked in greeting. There were three beds in this room. One was untouched and forever neat. 

Shouto glanced down at his left arm. It was wrapped tightly with stark bandages that matched the one on his cheek. “Better than yours.”

Iida gave him a laugh like an old engine starting up. “You’re right.” He turned out the light and slipped into the bed across the room. After another minute of shuffling blankets passed as he momentarily respected Shouto’s hope for sleep before Iida spoke again. “I apologize for bothering you again, but Todoroki?”

“Yes.” Shouto returned with his eyes closed. 

He was so exhaustingly tired, but he knew he’d probably be up for another few hours. By now, it must be some early hour in the morning. He could still hear sirens in the distance, through the thick glass of the window. 

“You lied...earlier.”

“Before or after I yelled at the chief of police?” He returned lazily.

A nervous, mechanical laugh. “Before...with your father. When he originally arrived. You said that both villains attacked us.” Shouto’s eyes snapped open. “But that’s not true, the one in the hood was protecting us. He was fighting with you.”

“I...” Shouto tried to seem relaxed, unbothered, but his body had stilled again. “I figured it was an internal thing...you know, villains have their own politics just like heroes.”

“It didn’t seem like that.” Iida interrupted. “He used your name and the way you both fought. You were...comfortable beside him.”

Shouto swallowed. His fingers curled in the pillow case. “It was a stressful night.” He sat up and met Iida’s eyes in the dark. The frames of his glasses reflected the headlights of a passing car. “I’ve never met him before tonight. I’m not sure why he decided to help us, but he probably only knew my name from the Sports Festival. I did win, after all.“

Iida smiled. “Of course. I left early so I didn’t get to see the final match.” 

“So that’s it, right?” He returned cooly. “Goodnight.”

“Right...Goodnight, Todoroki.”

Shouto laid back down on his side. He gripped the fabric tightly and exhaled deeply. 

Quietly, Iida concluded with a barely heard whisper. “Please thank him for me.”

Iida snored. 

It was loud and unrhythmic and made falling asleep, as much as Shouto wanted to, impossible. At least he was going to be released tomorrow. 

He could go home and sleep and forget about everything that crashed and burned today. Or yesterday. He was surprised he hadn’t seen sunlight through the curtains yet. 

He pushed himself up with a frustrated sigh.

Shouto threw aside his blankets, forced himself to his aching feet, and creeped out of the room. The hallways outside were dimly lit at this hour. All the immediate patients were in other wings, so he saw no one wandering the halls.

He could have used the bathroom connected to their room, but he didn’t want to wake Iida. Besides, he needed an excuse to get out and hear nothing but silence for a few minutes. 

He was nearly to the bathroom when someone grabbed his bandaged wrist. Shouto gasped and winced as he was yanked into another room. This one had three beds, too, but each of them was empty. 

Before he could speak, Izuku crashed into him. Shouto stumbled backwards with the force, breath knocked out of his lungs. 

“I’m s-sorry, I’m so, s-so sorry–“ He gasped, hushed with sniffles. His arms were wrapped his neck and he hung onto Shouto like he might vanish if he let him go. 

Shouto relaxed in his arms. He slouched to hug him back and rest his head on his shoulder. “You know I didn’t mean that with my father, right? You saved our lives tonight. My life.”

“S-Shou–“ Izuku murmured. He looked up at him with shiny eyes before burying his face in his shirt miserably.

“What are you doing here?” Shouto asked with a glance toward the door. “I thought, after the nomu carried you off...”

“I couldn’t– I-I just...” He hesitated, wrinkling the fabric of Shouto’s clothes. Izuku backed away carefully as he sorted out the racing thoughts in his mind. “I snuck in.” He whispered. “I needed to see you.”

“I’m okay.” Shouto insisted softly. “I’m right here, I’m fine.”

His hands, still resting with their comforting touch on Shouto, tightened again. “I was scared. S-Shou-to, I was so scared and I’m–“ The other abruptly shut his mouth.

“What?” Shouto pressed.

“I’m...still scared.”

He shook his head immediately and stepped forward to try and close the distance between them. “I’m fine, Iida’s fine, the Hero Killer was arrested, the nomu are–“

Izuku kept him away. He smiled sadly, half illuminated by moonlight. “T-That’s not it.”

“Then what? What is it?” Shouto breathed. “For once, let me help you, Izuku.”

“It’s you.” 

Shouto took a step back, stunned by the quiet confession. “What?”

“T-These feelings, this feeling– Haven’t you noticed it’s different? W-We are different.” Izuku continued. The words flooded out of him. “I’ve never had anyone like y-you, I don’t want to mess this up, I-I don’t want to mess you up.”

“Izuku...” 

“Because everything’s all messed up and S-Stain, maybe he was right– Maybe I’m just like him or Dad or Tomura or–“ He choked out painfully.

“Izuku.” 

“–and you! You’re s-so, so wonderful and you’re only here because of me–“

Shouto cupped his face and forced his eyes up to him. His skin was hot and flushed. “Izuku!” He interrupted firmly. “Please breath.”

Wide green eyes blinked feverishly at him. Izuku managed a shaky breath, stuttering for a moment. “I’m sorry.” He exhaled.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’ve messed up everything.” He sobbed again. 

“No, you didn’t.” Thick tears stained Shouto’s fingertips. He sighed disappointedly and tugged Izuku closer. “Nothing’s wrong. We’re friends, remember?”

He pressed his forehead against Izuku’s in hopes of comforting him, but his face only flooded with color and Shouto noticed that, even with tears tracing lines down his blooming cheeks, Izuku was still stunning. 

“You’re more than a friend to me, y-you know?” Izuku admitted quietly. “It’s more than just that.”

Shouto’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “Wait, what?”

Izuku’s eyes snapped open in horror. He shoved away from Shouto. “I’m sorry– I-I didn’t mean that, I have to go–“

“What?” He echoed dumbly. “Why?”

“I’ve got to go before someone hears us, I-I’m sorry–“ Izuku muttered frantically. He started toward the window even though they were on the fifth floor. 

“Wait, Izuku.” Shouto called firmly. When he didn’t stop, he rushed forward and grabbed his wrist. “Izuku, wait a minute.” He didn’t meet his eyes, busy staring at the tiles between his sneakers. Izuku exhaled shakily, which told him he must have started crying again. “Please tell me what you meant.”

“It’s n-nothing.”

“It’s not.” Shouto protested. “I’m not upset, I just want to know.”

The air conditioner hummed quietly in between Izuku’s painful breaths. “I’ve never had anyone like y-you...never, even when I was alive.”

“Me either, you know that.”

“But it’s different.” Izuku argued quietly, torn and ragged around the edges. “Because I...”

Shouto traced his thumb along the inside of his wrist, earning a stuttered gasp. “Izuku, just say it.” He urged.

“Because I...I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Shouto stilled. The words echoed around him. Seconds stretched between them, ticking in time with the clock on the wall. Izuku trembled in his grip.

Was that what this was? Because Izuku was right, there had never been anyone like him. There was no reference to draw the line between friendship and more. Because when Shouto thought of the people at school, even Iida, who he had risked his life for without hesitation a few hours ago, those feelings didn’t stir and warm inside of him.

He didn’t fantasize about Yoarashi’s smile, didn’t require everything that came of his mouth to have Shouto’s name at the end of it. He didn’t care how Yaoyorozu felt, whatever her opinion was her of him outside of the boy she sat beside all day. He never bared his soul, his bitter history, to any of them on a cold night when they were only strangers.

“Oh.” Shouto murmured.

Izuku choked on his tears, determined to keep his face hidden from him. “I’m s-sorry, so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s okay–“

“It’s not!” Izuku cried, ripping his hand from Shouto. “I’ve ruined everything!”

“Izuku, no, no–” He tried to run again, but Shouto yanked him back. He twisted around, all blotchy skin and red-rimmed eyes. “Just listen to me.”

“You don’t have to–“

“I feel the same!” Shouto blurted out before Izuku could interrupt him again.

“H-Huh?” He sniffled.

“I get it.” Shouto repeated. He brought his hands up and broke a few of the tear tracks with a gentle gesture. “You’re right. It is different, I just didn’t have the...words to tell you before now.”

Izuku held his breath, staring up at him like he was a stranger. “Y-You...”

“But I do. I feel the same, I know I do.” He continued. “You’re an...outlier. No one else makes me feel the way you do.”

“I-I–“ Izuku dissolved into sobs again. He rushed forward and embraced him, burying his face in Shouto’s shoulder. “R-Really?”

Shouto returned the hug, holding him as tightly as he could manage. He pressed his face into his curls and inhaled. “I promise.” 

“I-I’m glad, S-Shouto, oh, I’m so glad–“ Emotions made Izuku’s words choppy and garbled as he held onto him tighter. 

Shouto’s lips upturned slightly, bubbly feelings rising with the movement. He sighed, pressing a barely-there kiss to the top of his head as the other cried in his arms.

Chapter Text

“This is ridiculous!” The newspaper and its blocky characters in his hands disintegrated into dark dust. “That idiot is all over the news, it isn’t fair!”

Tomura shoved away from the counter in his anger. The movement knocked over one of Kuroguri’s turned over glasses. It vanished through a warp gate and landed in the bartender’s hand behind the bar. Kuroguri lazily started to clean the glass again. 

The pale-haired villain whirled around and pointed in Izuku’s direction furiously. “This is all your fault!”

He blinked back at the finger between his eyes. Izuku bit his lip. Decay was always a nauseating quirk to be in the presence of. It was like a parasite morphing around Tomura, reaching out toward Izuku like it was itching to be under his skin, or maybe to destroy it. 

“H-How is it mine?” He managed, shoving Decay out of his mind.

“You went behind our backs!” Tomura argued. “You disobeyed me, you fought the nomu that were mine!”

“I don’t have to listen to you or take orders from you.” Izuku returned pointedly. “I didn’t disobey you.”

“Then you lied to Sensei! You betrayed us! You shouldn’t even be here!” He cried.

Izuku rolled his eyes. “You lied to me first, you never said anything about the nomu when we discussed Hosu. If you really want to claim that, then you can go tell my father,” Tomura stiffened. “but you won’t.” 

“Maybe I will.” He retorted defiantly. “I’m sick of you getting in my way, you’re like a bothersome sidekick I didn’t even ask for!”

“Then tell him that.” Izuku stood from his booth and glared up at Tomura. He could only make out one of his dilated pupils between shaggy bangs and rotting fingers. “But you won’t, because you know exactly how that conversation would go.”

Tomura was naive, but he wasn’t stupid. Izuku pressed his mouth into a line and stood stiffly before the villain. He waited for something to happen, for him to lash out. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done that. Frustration radiated off of him, building as Izuku waited for an attack. 

A heartbeat stretched between them before Kuroguri cleared his throat. “Someone is here.” He said simply. A rhythmic knock sliced through the air. “Tomura, please sit down.”

“It’s your stupid friend, right? He shouldn’t have come either.” Tomura grumbled as Izuku shoved past him. He stalked over to a barstool. At least he might have learned his lesson about trying to attack Izuku. 

“He’s a League member, isn’t he?” Izuku returned. “He belongs here as much as anyone.” 

Despite his words, his hand hesitated on the knob. He could sense through the door, he knew from the knock’s pattern it was Shouto, but he paused anyway. 

It hadn’t been long since Hosu, but it wasn’t enough either. Everyone had been busy since then; heroes and villains alike. There had been unrest recently, since the Hero Killer’s capture. Giran had promised some useful new members to go along with the demand of their unfolding plans in exchange for his finder’s fee, of course. 

And, well, there was that part about sobbing out a confession of his unrequited feelings in an empty hospital room at three in the morning, only for those feelings to not be very unrequited at all. They hadn’t exactly really discussed what that meant now. 

Izuku didn’t dare mention it aloud. 

He exhaled and pulled opened the door. Shouto peered at him curiously. His hands were tucked in the pockets of a dark blue windbreaker and the bottom half of his face was hidden by a face mask. Part of his bangs had been brushed back so that the jacket’s hood could hide the unusual coloring.

“H-Hey.”

Shouto tugged the mask down and sent a gentle smile. “Hello. May I come in?” 

“Yeah, um, of course.” Izuku shuffled aside to allow him and hoped no one would comment on his painfully pink blush. Kuroguri politely shifted his attention away from the door. “You’re a little early. Giran and the others aren’t here yet.”

“Okay.” He answered. Shouto glanced at their company. “Hi.”

“Tch.”

“Were you followed?” Kuroguri greeted.

“I don’t think so.” He admitted. “I got a little twisted around, but I didn’t notice anyone else.” 

“Good.” 

Shouto awkwardly glanced at Izuku. For a moment, it looked like he was itching to say something, but Tomura interrupted him. “Have you found any new members?” He accused. 

“I thought that’s why we were here.” Shouto tilted his head. 

“I mean at Yuuei.” Tomura hissed. “You know you’re supposed to looking for possible new members who’d defer to us, right? Other rejects?”

Shouto didn’t look like he knew that at all. Izuku leaped to his defense, stepping forward and brushing his fingers on Shouto’s arm. “It’s a school full of heroes, Tomura, I wouldn’t expect much.” He answered curtly.

“Bullshit. I’ve found the perfect kid and I don’t even go to that school. You fought him in the Sports Festival.” Shouto’s eyebrows knit together. All the color drained out of Izuku’s face. “That Bakugou kid would be perfect, he’s what we’re looking for. You saw his reaction when he lost!”

“Kacchan would never.” Izuku murmured. The words slipped out before he could stop them. 

“Huh?”

Izuku frowned. “Ka— Bakugou would never switch sides. He’s been working toward the number spot since he was four years old. He’s not at all what we’re looking for.” He answered mutedly.

“That reaction proved different.” Tomura argued. “I’ll ask Sensei. He’ll agree with me.” 

Izuku’s grip on Shouto tightened, trying to seek some kind of support. His friend wore a trapped expression, nervously looking between the pair of them. 

He was just pushing his buttons. It was what Tomura did. He liked to irritate him. Izuku was only doing it to himself by being this obvious. He sighed in frustration as Kuroguri slipped around the bar. 

“Giran’s at the location. I’m going to fetch him. Please don’t break anything while I’m gone.” The warper said simply.

Tomura scowled. “You say that every time you leave me alone!” 

Kuroguri shrugged. The shadows around his face morphed into a smile for a moment, giving Izuku the barest flash of pasty skin before he vanished through his own portal. 

Izuku was momentarily distracted from the subject of Kacchan by the sight. He hadn’t really ever considered what Kuroguri looked like underneath his quirk. He always assumed it was a mutation, but maybe he was wrong. 

“Hey.” Shouto cut through his spiraling thoughts quietly. “Do you want to sit down?”

Tomura had vanished to find watch another Stain related video and suddenly seemed focused on cramming before meeting their new guests, rather than further irritating him. “Yeah, okay.” Izuku answered. 

He allowed himself to be led over their usual booth in the corner. Shouto squished himself between the wall and Izuku, momentarily hesitating before he moved again. He took Izuku’s hand resting on the rough table top. 

Izuku looked up in surprise as Shouto’s warm fingers intertwined with his. “Is this okay?” He asked lowly.

His face flooded with color and he pulled their joined hands under the table before Tomura could notice. “Y-Yeah.” 

He knew he should say something further. Maybe they should define what this meant, what Hosu meant, but his voice caught in his throat and Shouto seemed content with tracing his thumb over the split scars on his knuckles. 

Maybe later, then.

Purple energy flooded into the room as Kuroguri reappeared through a portal. Beside him, Giran followed. “Shigaraki, I’ve been spreading the word about you after all that went down in Hosu. Sounds like something big is coming, huh?” He offered a wiry grin, dropping his cigarette butt and crushing the embers with his dress shoe’s heel. 

Izuku slouched in the booth. The portal remained opened as Tomura stood and greeted them. Izuku squeezed Shouto’s hand as a warning to stay seated with him in the back corner. He also reached over and tugged up his jacket’s thin hood, just in case anyone happened to be an Endeavor fan.

“Well?” Tomura crossed his arms over his chest awkwardly in an attempt to look intimidating. “Who’d you bring with you this time?“

Giran waved his hand through the portal and stepped aside for the newcomers. “I think you’ll impressed. They’re a...unique pair.” He smirked. 

Two shadows appeared through the portal. The girl, with wild blond hair and golden, cat-like eyes, didn’t look very much older than him or Shouto. She landed firmly on the wooden floor with a natural agility that made Izuku curious about her quirk.

She was dressed in a school uniform for a high school he didn’t recognize, but when he tugged that metal manipulation quirk to the surface, he recognized the sharp steel of knives all over her person. 

She looked around the low-lit bar in interest and smiled brightly at Tomura. “Ah! I like your hand! You’re Stainy’s friend, huh?”

Tomura immediately scowled, which gave her companion, a dark-haired young man, the opportunity to piss him off further. “Damn, you’re grosser in person.”

The man must be in his twenties, but his youth had been marred somewhere in between the thick burns and staples all over his body. His face was made up of purple and pale patches. His hair was a sharp black that contrasted sharply from his bright blue eyes.

For some reason, Izuku was immediately struck with familiarity from the man. He felt like he should recognize him, or parts of him at least, but Izuku was very sure they had never met. 

“This is a joke, right?” Tomura hissed at Giran. “You didn’t seriously bring Stain supporters here.”

The girl bounced around the room excitedly. She spotted them in the booth and rushed over with lit up eyes. “Oh gosh, you look just like him! Can we be friends? You’re going to let me join, right?” She leaned over the table toward Izuku. 

The movement jolted both of them and he barely noticed Shouto’s hood fall between the girl’s close smile and her unnerving fangs.

“Wait a fucking minute–“ The man’s voice was drowned out by Tomura complaining about something. 

Izuku leaned back against the seat’s cushion. “Uh, w-who do I look like?” He asked wearily. 

She beamed. “The first boy I killed! His name was Saito. His hair was a different color though...hm, I think you’d still look good in red, though.” She continued thoughtfully. Izuku swallowed nervously.

“What the fuck is he doing here?!” The girl and Izuku both turned back toward the others at the dark-haired man’s outburst. “Is this some kind of scheme?”

“Scheme? What are you talking about?” Tomura retorted. “Get them out of my sight! I don’t want them here!”

“You’re stupider than the media makes you look.” He answered. “You’ve got Endeavor’s golden child sitting in your damn hideout!” He threw his hand toward Shouto. 

The attention of the room shifted toward an uncomfortable Shouto. “Um...”

“That isn’t any of your concern.” Tomura snapped. Izuku was momentarily surprised he was defending Shouto, but decided it was probably because he had decided he already didn’t like them. “You two are my least favorite things wrapped up in a duo: a man with no manners and a brat.”

The girl hopped off the edge of the table to give them space, although she tilted her head at Shouto. “You’re a hero?”

“I’m not–“ Shouto began as the dark-haired man stalked over.

“Bullshit!” The man snapped. “I’m sure it isn’t a concern until he runs home to Daddy and tells him all your plans and our identities. I should kill him now and save us all the trouble.” The man raised one hand in a familiar movement. The girl hummed enthusiastically and scooted toward Giran in the corner. 

Izuku leapt to his feet and put himself between them. “You’ll have to go through me.” He threatened. He glared up into the striking blue eyes and that twisting deja vu feeling returned.

“You’re not serious, kid. You’re what? Twelve? Thirteen?” 

Izuku held his ground. “Shouto belongs here, if you have any issues with that, then you can take it up with me.” He was used to being underestimated. It generally ended badly for the other person. 

“I don’t get it.” The girl spoke quietly toward Giran. “Do we get to join or not? Can I stab someone yet?” 

Shouto’s hand found his arm, reminding him of his presence. Tomura made a frustrated noise. “I’m tired of this! I’ve made my decision, all of you are irritating me!”

“Tomura, don’t–“ He reached out for the dark-haired man. At the same time, the latter stretched past Izuku for Shouto with a wild, murderous expression. 

Izuku gasped as the man’s sleeve lit in blue. He twisted and grabbed onto his wrist before he could reach Shouto, ignored the brutal burning sensation, and ripped the fire quirk from him. There was other scuffling behind across the bar, but he focused on the new feeling of another quirk, blistering and violent. 

“What the fuck?” He growled, wrist still wrapped tightly in Izuku’s hand. “What did you do?”

This quirk felt familiar. He knew by itself that he had never taken it before, but it felt just like something else he already knew. It was on the tip of his tongue, just out of reach. 

He ignored his questions and looked up at the rest of the bar behind the man. Small portals dotted the room, hands and weapons stuck disembodied out of them. Tomura was decaying a glass rather than the dark-haired man’s skin. The girl had dived over the opposing booth and table to try and stab them, but her knife was embedded in the floorboards of the center of the room and Shouto’s right hand, raised in their defense, had frozen a wall of ice along the bar’s length instead of her. 

“Please calm yourself, Tomura.” Kuroguri said, arms outstretched to keep all the portals in place. “We should take advantage of our moment in the spotlight and your master’s wishes while we can. That requires new members.”

“Shut up.” Tomura ripped his hand through his portal. 

“We don’t have the resources to be incredibly selective.” He continued.

“I said shut up!” He cried. The villain stormed off through one of the doors that led further underground. It slammed heavily behind him and left the stuffy air of the bar tense.

“That was crazy.” The girl hummed. She sheathed her knife without preamble. “I thought he might actually kill us. My name’s Toga Himiko, by the way.” She smiled shyly in Izuku’s direction and sent shivers up his spine. 

He still didn’t dare look away from the young man. 

“Forgive my, uh, business partner, he’s inexperienced and immature.” Giran shrugged lazily. With a glance at Kuroguri, he continued. “I assume I’m still getting my finder’s fee, right?”

“Of course. I’ll arrange it.” Kuroguri answered. “Tomura will have an answer that will satisfy all of you in a few days, I’m sure. He just needs to work through it himself.” He excused. It felt like half the things he said were excuses on Tomura’s behalf. Izuku wondered how he didn’t get bored of it. 

Instead, Izuku frowned up at the dark-haired man. “I’m going to give you back the use of your quirk, but if you’re serious about joining, you have to accept Shouto’s position here, too.” 

The intemperate quirk happily returned to its owner. The burns on Izuku’s hand started to fade as he relaxed his grip. 

It was probably a mix of intimidation and reassurance when blue flames sparked and flickered between his scarred fingers. Izuku watched the embers twist in the air for a painstakingly long moment. 

“I plan to make the Hero Killer’s will a reality.” He spoke with utter seriousness. “You better not get in the way of that.”

Izuku swallowed nervously, but didn’t answer his threat. Shouto gently pushed him aside so that he could take his place before the dark-haired man. 

“I know you might not want to believe me, but I’m here for a reason, too. My father has no idea about this and he never will, not until it’s too late to do anything.” Shouto said carefully. His eyes darted toward Izuku and it seemed to reassure him because his posture straightened. “I don’t want to be a source of irritation, because I think we both want the same thing, right?”

Izuku watched the pair silently. He observed the man closely so he could leap between them if he tried to hurt Shouto again, but he was easily distracted by their profiles. He could only see the left half of Shouto’s face, crimson bangs falling over the dead skin of his scar. 

Their eyes were nearly the same shade of blue. The man’s eyelashes were white, striking against the darkness of his hair. There was a similar shape to their jaws, both firmly set in their lines and colors. 

When Izuku cautiously, silently, called out for a fire quirk, they both answered in the same way. 

The man’s eyes narrowed at Shouto. “I go by Dabi.”

Shouto’s gaze flickered toward Izuku in relief, then back at the stranger with a nod. “It’s...nice to meet you then, Dabi.”

Chapter Text

“With your semester finals coming up, I also need to inform you of the training camp we’re planning for the summer break.” Shouto peeked up from his history textbook in interest as his teacher spoke.

He glanced over at Yaoyorozu. Her head was propped up on her chin while she silently watched Aizawa explain the schedule for the break. There was a stiffness to her posture. Shouto had noticed it more and more frequently since her loss in the Sports Festival. 

Shouto’s eyes darted back to the front of the classroom instead of bothering her. He actively listened to Aizawa explain the basic set up of the summer camp while he absently picked at the edge of his textbook. 

Apparently, its purpose was to prepare them to take the provisional hero licensing exam next semester. He didn’t think he could ever recall first-years taking that exam before. When he glanced around the room, the classmates that he saw didn’t strike him as people ready to be pre-licensed heroes in just a few months, but apparently his teachers felt differently. 

For some reason, this reminded him of the first of week of school, when Aizawa marched up to the front of the classroom without that scar under his eye and told them they were going to the USJ facility at the end of the week. 

“Attendance is mandatory and, if you happen to fail your exams, you’ll be required to attend extra classes during the trip instead of the activities we’re preparing.” Aizawa continued. “Any questions?”

Iida snapped to attention and his arm shot up in the air like a stiff flagpole. “Sensei!”

“Yes?” Aizawa answered monotonously.

“Where will the camp be held?” Iida asked. “My family generally takes a trip over the summer break and I didn’t realize we’d be required to attend something like this.” So this must be a new thing, if Iida didn’t already know about it from his brother: an Yuuei alumni.

“Due to security reasons, the details about the trip are being kept as a need-to-know basis. We’ll tell you more about it after exams are over.” Aizawa returned. 

That comment stole Shouto’s attention away from Iida’s slouching form. They were concerned about security and the way he was described it...then they couldn’t be holding the camp on campus. It must be somewhere else. 

“Is All Might going?” He was momentarily surprised by the gruff voice at the front of the class. 

Bakugou rarely spoke up in class, so it was odd to actually hear his voice at a normal volume instead of his typical screaming. Not that Shouto particularly cared, he was perfectly fine if the blond didn’t open his mouth again for the next three years. 

“I’m not sure.” Aizawa said. “Several teachers and guest heroes will be attending, but All Might hasn’t stated one way or another.” He cleared his throat. “Like I said, more information will be made available as we get closer to the summer. If you have any further concerns, you can see me after class.”

He continued into taking attendance and abruptly, the subject was dropped. 

When the bell rang for lunch, most of his classmates bolted from the room. Shouto fell into step with Yoarashi and Yaoyorozu at the back of the rushing crowd. The dark-haired teens seemed content talking between themselves and didn’t bother to include Shouto in the conversation. 

Between the busy hallway and the time of day, it wasn’t a surprise that someone knocked into his shoulder. Shouto stumbled a bit, twisting around the taller man. “Oh, I’m sorry, young man!”

Shouto tensed at that voice. The man slipped past him into the sea of students behind Shouto, but he stuck out like sore thumb with his lanky height and sunflower-like hair. It was like USJ all over again, staring wide-eyed at that hero who couldn’t even be called a man anymore.

“All Might.” The name barely slipped from his lips, low enough that the hero couldn’t hear him, nor any of the students around him. 

Yoarashi and Yaoyorozu must not have noticed his hesitation, because they didn’t wait for him. The rest of the first-years on the floor parted around him like a rock in a river as he watched the man continue in the other direction.

All Might ran before anyone could say anything to him and, when he didn’t resemble the number one hero, he got away quickly. 

When Shouto glanced over his shoulder, he couldn’t find Yaoyorozu’s ponytail anymore. If he just kept walking toward the cafeteria, he’d likely find them in their usual spot, but a nagging feeling had returned.

Shouto turned and sliced through the groups of other students. He already wanted to learn more about this supposed summer camp plan, but now he was even more baffled about why All Might was walking through the halls in his shrunken state.

Either this was a common occurrence Shouto had never noticed before...or All Might didn’t want to be recognized for a reason.

There were few parts of campus they weren’t supposed to wander. Most of these included the upper floors of the glass tower buildings and the basements, where Shouto was pretty sure they kept either villains not quite good enough for Tartarus or just their extra textbooks. 

He could hear the footsteps of the hero over his head as he continued up the stairs. Shouto kept to the right side so that All Might couldn’t look over the railing and spot him. He followed at a snails’ pace, growing more and more curious about which floor the man would disappear on. 

The top floors of the Heroics building were filled with teacher offices and lounges. Seeing his his teachers vanish up theses stairs after the bell rang was not out of the ordinary. There wasn’t anything that stated they weren’t allowed to go up there, technically, but it was general curtesy to meet a teacher before or after class instead of barging in their upper level office.

Shouto actually did have a history question about their essay due tomorrow, although it wasn’t anything the Internet couldn’t answer. That would be a decent enough excuse if anyone spotted him, but Shouto would prefer if he didn’t encounter anyone at all.

Most of the school was clustered in the lower floors or the lunch room right now, so it grew steadily quieter as they moved up. By the time they reached the first floor of administrative offices, it was utterly silent beside their footsteps and breathing. Stealth had never been an important thing in his father’s mind to drill into him and Shouto was suddenly very aware of that fact.

He had a feasible excuse if he was caught, but he still hoped it wasn’t Aizawa who he stumbled upon. He had just gotten himself out from underneath Aizawa’s radar.

All Might finally diverged on the fourteenth floor. By the time Shouto caught up to him, he was all the way down the hallway. He was pretty sure the principal’s office was on this floor. Shouto watched him intriguingly as he turned another corner and vanished from view. 

He couldn’t exactly hide in an empty hallway, so he had to follow at an even further distance. As he walked, he noticed the nameplates pressed into the wall beside each door, although most of the rooms remained empty. He only ducked under the window of Midnight’s office when he spotted the hero typing on her keyboard inside. 

There was a lounge stuck in a corner of the hallway that Shouto could hear talking seeping out of when they passed by, but the teachers inside were only discussing the style of final exams. Apparently, one year was going to be grouped them into pairs and forced to fight the heroes on staff. 

Shouto didn’t have time to figure out which year that was, as All Might didn’t pause in his path. 

He didn’t stop until the furthest corner of the floor when, if his blurry vision was correct, he had reached the principal’s office. Shouto took a step out from behind the corner of the hall in an attempt to read the characters of the nameplate beside the door to make sure. 

Then, the worst possible thing happened. All Might’s hand paused on the doorknob and his head turned. Shouto internally cursed and slipped around the corner again, but the sound of growing footfalls told him that All Might was coming closer. He glanced around the empty hall for somewhere to hide frantically. There was a door immediately on his right. It was unlocked when he pushed on the handle, so he threw himself inside the dark room without a second thought. 

Shouto dropped to his knees and crouched in front of the door. He reached up and turned the lock. He heard All Might call out a name. It wasn’t his and he didn’t recognize it either.

Shouto shut his eyes and willed his heartbeat to slow before All Might somehow heard him. He counted the seconds until he heard footsteps pass by the office’s door, then back again. Finally, a distant voice graced his ears and joined All Might’s. He must have gone inside the principal’s office, Shouto decided with the shutting of another door.

He exhaled and opened his eyes, only to be exposed to more darkness. He pushed himself up and peeked out the window into the hallway. All Might had disappeared. Shouto sighed and his shoulders slouched in relief.

The rest of the unlit room was just a plain old office. He hadn’t thought to check the nameplate, so he had no idea who this belonged to, or where they were supposed to be right now. 

He approached the desk. There was a mess of papers and a closed laptop upon the surface. He didn’t bother with the laptop and pushed it aside with his sleeve for the papers underneath. He tried to not leave fingerprints, just in case someone decided to check after him.

The pages were filled completely with lines and lists of numbers and addresses. At just a glance, it looked like some type of financial report. Shouto picked up the first one and traced the rows with his finger. These dated back to the beginning of the school year and listed off various costume companies and school supplies. It didn’t look like anything out of the ordinary. 

Shouto moved on through the pages until he reached the most recently dated transaction. It was from less than a month ago and a payment to some place called Rinkan Land Company. He didn’t recognize the name, besides that it clearly dealt with forests. 

He didn’t bother to pull out his phone to identify the name, but scanning the rows was somewhat interesting. Maybe Izuku or his father would find this information beneficial. Shouto gathered up a few of the most impressive pages, including the one with Rinkan Land Company, and folded them up neatly. 

Then he tucked them inside his blazer and inspected the desk’s surface again. Flipping open a few folders didn’t yield anything else exciting. The numbers probably flew over his head. He had never been one for financies. He had an urge to search further, but he didn’t want to press his luck in case the owner of this office decided to have a quick lunch. When he pushed back the laptop, it looked just like how he had found it, excluding a few extra papers. Hopefully, no one would miss them.

Satisfied, Shouto neared the door again. When the hallway seemed empty enough, he slipped out of the office. He glanced at the nameplate beside the door. He didn’t recognize the name, but School Accountant and Financial Advisor gave him an idea of their job description. 

If he was gone for too much longer, his classmates might raise some questions, but he still wanted to find out more about their summer camp. Shouto decided outside of the teacher’s lounge would be a decent spot to spend a few more minutes outside of before he returned to the cafeteria.

Before he could leave though, a louder voice attracted his attention. “–a necessary decision to make, don’t you think?” He froze, but the words were too muffled to be out in the hall with him. 

Someone answered. It wasn’t loud enough for Shouto to make out the words. He turned his head back toward the principal’s office at the end of the hall. 

This was probably a bad idea, but his interest got the better of him. 

He carefully avoided the office’s window and pressed his back to the wall beside the door. When he strained his ears, he could make out two distinct voices. The louder one had to be All Might.

“You know that criminal activity is on the rise and it will only get worse as the League of Villains grows more popular.” The other person sounded squeaky as they spoke. “It’s not a stretch to say All for One is involved in this. Clearly, he has made a choice, you should, too.”

Shouto’s eyes widened. His fingers curled against the wall at the name. All Might was aware of them, or at least whoever he was talking to was.

Someone sighed heavily. “We don’t know–“

“Yagi, please.” They answered rationally. “You are blind if you don’t see the connections. You’re growing weaker and surely All for One knows that as well. You never fully recovered after your fight. He has bid his time, but he will not wait forever.”

“They’re not ready.” All Might admitted. “I’ve thought about it...some of these first-years are truly something, especially Class A, but no one is ready. They have to be perfect, you know–“

“Then what about the Togata boy? Your former sidekick speaks highly of him.” They spoke. Shouto tilted his head, but he didn’t recognize the name from anywhere.

“I don’t know...There’s– I don’t know, he’s a great kid, but...”

“He was one of the first I presented to you and I stand by the suggestion. He is the top of his class and has practically mastered his quirk.” They continued. “Not to mention his position as Nighteye’s intern would be helpful for everyone involved. If there is anyone at this school who deserves it, it’s him.”

A pause filled the air. Shouto knew he was pushing it, but he couldn’t force himself to move on.

“If it was about a logical candidate, then, of course, Togata would be it, but I feel like– There must be more to my successor than that.” All Might said with a hint of hesitation. “I can’t say what it is, but he’s missing something. It’s why I took this teaching position.”

Shouto furrowed his eyebrows. There was an ulterior reason behind All Might’s purpose here, that much wasn’t unbelievable, but a successor? 

“I’m afraid you don’t have much longer to name that something.”

“I know.” He sighed heavily.

“Unless you want One for All to die with you, you have to make a decision.”

The cafe was populated by a small afternoon crowd. Shouto gave the cashier a thin smile as he slipped past the main bar. As he walked further, the tables got smaller, tucked in their little corners. 

Typically, according to his former middle school classmates, this was a popular place for a date, due to the relative privacy of the two-person tables back here.

Shouto found a square table in the furthest corner from the entrance. At this hour, this area of the cafe was empty. He claimed one seat and hung his bag on the corner of his chair. He flipped through the menu of drinks while he waited. 

At the sound of footsteps, he raised his head. 

Izuku’s eyes brightened as he spotted him. He rushed over to his table and took the seat across from him. “Hey.”

“Hi. Thanks for coming.”

“Y-Yeah, of course.” He smiled warmly. “Your text caught me off guard, but anything beats watching Tomura try and sort through our new recruits. What happened?”

“A few things actually.” Shouto reached forward and took his hand across the table and spontaneously took Izuku’s. 

Like a rose, his face bloomed. “U-Um–“  

Before he could stutter out anything, a waitress approached them. She smiled knowingly at their hands before meeting their eyes. “So what can I get for you two?”

“Medium chai tea.” He glanced at Izuku expectantly.

The other blinked back at him dumbly. Pink remained scattered over his cheeks. “I– um, coffee? Just a small, p-please.” He answered quickly. The waitress nodded and left them. “What’s, uh, what’s this about, Shouto?”

“What do you mean?” He answered with a tilt of his head. He lowered his voice before continuing. “I have stuff to tell you, but I thought this would be a better place to meet than the bar. I don’t know how much you’d like to share with Tomura.”

Izuku’s blush deepened. “O-Oh, that’s all?” Something about his tone sounded nearly disappointed. He started to tug his hand away gently.

Shouto frowned. “What did you think it was?”

“It’s, um, nothing. It’s dumb.” 

His frown grew and Shouto stole his hand again before he could close himself off and deflect. He was rather good at that when he wanted to be. 

Izuku sucked in a breath, wide eyes darting between their hands and his face. “Please share.” Shouto demanded gently.

The other hesitated before sinking lower in his seat, tangled fingers flexing with the movement. “It’s just– W-Well after Hosu, I just thought...I don’t know, since this place has that reputation, it may– we might be– that this was a date.” He whispered the last word, like he was afraid someone would overhear them. Or perhaps he was just afraid to say it aloud.

Shouto blinked, caught off-guard. “A date?” He echoed. Shouto hesitated, then traced his thumb over Izuku’s scarred knuckles. “Well, I don’t mind if it’s a date.”

“W-What?!” Izuku wheezed. “Seriously?”

“I’ve never been on a date before.” Shouto admitted shyly.

“I-I, uh, okay.” The other exhaled. He peeked up at Shouto through his eyelashes. “So...s-so, does this mean we’re dating?”

“Do you want to?” 

“Yeah, yes. Yes, I do.”

Shouto smiled and pulled his hand closer. He saw it in a movie once, when someone did this. He pressed a barely there kiss to the back of Izuku’s hand. “Me, too.”

Clinking of dishware distracted him. Izuku let out a heaving breath as the waitress returned. “Chai tea...and small coffee for you.” She set each drink down before them. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Izuku muttered a thanks and pulled away to wrap his hands around the porcelain cup absentmindedly. Shouto cleared his throat, earning his attention. “I’m not saying this isn’t a date, but it wasn’t my original intention. There was something that happened today.”

He nodded to continue. Shouto gave him a hushed, shortened recollection of the announcement of the summer camp, the opinions of his classmates, then All Might’s appearance.

”Wait, he was in his weakened form? Just walking around the school?” Izuku clarified. Shouto nodded. “That’s really strange. Why would he do that, isn’t he trying to hide that form?”

“I don’t think he was counting on anyone recognizing him. None of the other students saw him at USJ like I did and I don’t think he’s even realized I did.” Shouto answered. He paused to take a sip of his tea. “It’s the school he teaches at, I’m not sure why it’d matter if he was walking around in his regular form.”

“Unless, maybe he did that on purpose. You said you followed him to the principal’s office, right?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

Izuku rested his chin on his hand. “So maybe he didn’t want to be recognized. He didn’t want anyone to question why he would be speaking with the principal.”

“He could have just said it was about a student.” Shouto pointed out. “I overheard some of the conversation and they were discussing someone named Togata, about a successor.”

The surprise was obvious on his features. “Wait, what? A successor?”

“Yeah, they were arguing about Togata’s abilities or whatever.”

“Well that’s why. It wasn’t about students; he didn’t want to be recognized by the other teachers.” Izuku stared into his steaming coffee, dumbfounded. “He doesn’t have a successor yet. That...that’s so dumb, it makes no sense.” He looked back up at Shouto. “You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure. Why? What does it matter?”

“Why does it– All Might is probably the only person in the world who could kill my father!” Izuku exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “He’s the biggest threat to us, to the League and, well, his quirk, my uncle’s quirk, gets stronger as he passes it on.”

“Right.” Shouto frowned. “So as time goes on–“

“–One for All becomes more and more of an actual threat.” Izuku stated firmly. His eyes dropped, deep emotions stirring in his gaze as he continued. “I know my Dad acts like All Might isn’t an issue but...my mom talks about this major fight they had once. I was too young to remember it, but she...she was really scared. If it had gone just a little bit differently, then– w-well, everything would be different.”

Shouto reached over to place his hand over Izuku’s shaking one. It seemed to remind him of his surroundings and Izuku gave him an appreciative glance. “So what does this mean?”

He recovered and covered his mouth as he continued in a lower tone. “If All Might really hadn’t picked a successor yet, then that means he still has the original quirk and if he dies without a successor...”

“He said he was waiting for something.” Shouto interrupted the other’s spiraling muttering. “That there was something Togata didn’t have, that’s why he hadn’t given him his quirk yet.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. It didn’t sound like All Might knew either.”

“Do you know if he’s going to the summer camp thing?” 

“No. Someone asked today in class and either the teachers haven’t decided or they’re keeping it a secret, too.” Shouto sighed. “I don’t have a location either.”

“We need to cut off All Might now.” Izuku declared, determined. “Before he has the chance to pass off his quirk. Defeating the Symbol of Peace would be the shift we need and if we can do it somewhere isolated like what you’re talking about with the camp, then that’s the best situation. There’s way less risk of someone else getting hurt. The camp has to be held off campus, right?” 

He gave Izuku a nod. “Thats how they presented it.”

“That’s good. That’s what we want. The more isolated, then the harder it is for backup to arrive, too. If we could only confirm All Might was going t–“ He suddenly silenced himself. Shouto could nearly see the gears turning behind his eyes.

“What?” 

“Maybe...” Izuku hesitated. “Maybe we don’t need All Might there at all.” 

“What do you mean?” Shouto pushed. 

His eyebrows knit together and he shook his head. “I don’t know...I just–“ He cut himself off with a firmer shake of his head. “No, never mind. I’m going to have to talk to my dad about it, but anyway, that was really good information. Thank you.”

Shouto felt warm under his praise. He smiled, before he suddenly remembered the papers stuffed in his English textbook. “Oh, wait, I have something else, too.” He pulled away and flipped through his bag before he finally fished out the book and the papers hidden inside. “All Might almost spotted me, so I rushed into the office of the school’s accountant.” He explained as he passed them off.

“Oh, wow.” Izuku murmured, flipping through the papers. 

“I thought it was interesting.” Shouto shrugged. “I didn’t have time to really look closely at it, but I thought maybe you or the others might want to look into it.”

“The dates are all over the place.” He hummed. His eyes darted over the characters and he turned another page. His finger traced the rows before stilling. “This one was only a couple of weeks ago, to some place called Rinkan Land Company.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that one.” Shouto peeked over the page. “It seemed like a lot.”

“About a million yen.” Izuku returned. He tugged out his phone and unlocked it. “I wonder what it’s for. The rest of these make sense for school purchases.”

“Maybe they’re buying a forest.” Shouto mused. 

Izuku snorted before straightening up in interest. “Here it is, they’re a company that lends out land in the Taiheiyo forest region for camping, getaways, that kind of thing.” He glanced back at Shouto. “Probably a good place for a summer camp, right?”

“You think that’s where it’s going to be?” 

“If I had to guess. It’s close enough to the school that you can drive, but out of the way for training, too.” He continued scrolling on his phone. “The company probably owns and rents out a large area, but we might be able to find more specific records and focus on a specific place. I’ll have to ask Dad.”

“I can try asking after exams. Maybe they’ll be more inclined to tell me more details as we get closer to the actual break.” Shouto suggested.

“You can try.” Izuku set aside his phone and returned to the papers. There was a lull in conversation, filled by the shifting of papers and Shouto finally emptying his tea cup. Suddenly, Izuku made an odd noise. “Whoa, look at this.”

He turned around the page he was on to show Shouto and pressed a fingertip to one row. “That’s a lot of money.” Shouto noted.

“Um, yeah, it’s a 160 million yen donation. That’s more than most of these transactions combined and that company, Yaopōto, they don’t appear anywhere else on this list for anything.” He continued with a thoughtful expression.

Shouto decided to take a page out of his book and pulled out his phone while Izuku muttered to himself about the transactions. He searched Yaopōto silently. It was an electronics corporation, Shouto vaguely recognized it. They typically specialized in more commercial products. 

“Yaoyorozu.” He suddenly stopped in his scrolling. 

“Hm?”

“The CEO of Yaopōto Electronics is Yaoyorozu Hirohito.” He clarified. 

Izuku tilted his head. “Yeah? He comes from a pretty major hero family, his father was number one for a few years a couple of decades ago, before All Might’s time. I’m pretty sure Yaoyorozu started up Yaopōto himself though, well, probably with a decent loan from his family. Doesn’t really explain the donation to Yuuei though.”

“His daughter is in my class. Yaoyorozu Momo.”

“Oh.” Izuku blinked at him. “Oh...oh, wait, the girl from the recommended exam?” 

“Yeah, but she got in through the regular exam. Yoarashi and I were the recommended students in out class.” Shouto said.

“That’s not possible.”

“What do you mean? That’s what she told me. We sit right next to each other.” He stated. 

Izuku shook his head. “No, they don’t let recommended students take the regular exam, it wouldn’t be fair. It’s not like they gave you that choice.”

“Well, I passed.” Shouto pointed out. 

“Okay, you’re right. But have you ever heard of anyone else taking both exams? I mean, recommended students are the best of the best, so if they took the regular exam, surely most of them would pass, right?” He explained. “It’s like giving someone two shots at acceptance; it isn’t fair.”

“So, what? She lied?” It came out more accusatory than he meant it. 

Shouto didn’t want to entertain this idea. He didn’t want to think these kind of things about his almost friend. He liked Yaoyorozu. She was nice and smart and a good hero, from what he had seen, at least.

Izuku frowned, clearly debating his next words before he spoke. “This is just a guess, I don’t know anything about her or her family specifically. It’s pretty out of the ordinary to have someone from a hero family like that fail the recommendation exam, so I can guess they probably didn’t want to advertise it. It’s just too coincidental that her father’s company would make a massive donation, which according to this has never happened before, right before the regular exam, and then suddenly she’s admitted that way.” 

“Why would she do that?” Shouto pushed. “Why not just go to another hero school?”

“It’s about reputation, isn’t it? Yuuei graduates rank higher and get paid far more than most others right out of high school. The top three heroes right now are Yuuei graduates and that’s been the trend for years.” Izuku explained gently. “It’s possible she didn’t know. Maybe her dad did it without telling her?”

He thought back to the first weeks of school, that first day he sat beside her. He remembered asking her about the recommendation exam. He had assumed her disinterest in talking to him was about his argument with Bakugou, but now that he really thought about it, she seemed to have no issues talking about any other subject he brought up. 

Her anxiety in activities, the Sports Festival, because she didn’t trust herself. Or maybe, she didn’t feel like she had earned her place in their class.

He stared at the empty glass in his hands. The ring of tea at the bottom of the cup froze over.

“No.” Shouto answered quietly. “She knew.”

Chapter Text

It was a simple plan: divide and conquer. 

The campsite was located in a clearing in the middle of the woods. It was four and a half hours from any major city, as well as any possible hero backup. It included a large cabin and a spread out area for training, with several different trails stretching through the trees.

There had been no sign of All Might among the hero staff putting on the summer camp, but that was fine. Where the students went, he would follow. Dad guaranteed that. 

“Keep up! How come I got stuck with you, pipsqueak?” Muscular snapped as they trudged through the forest toward the campsite.

Izuku scowled. “We were the last ones left.” He answered truthfully. 

Mustard and Dabi had been tasked with taking out the majority of the scattered students. Then, there had to be someone to guard the rendezvous point and signal Kuroguri for a getaway, just in case any students or heroes made it through Mustard’s distraction. Someone, Spinner and Magne, had to take care of the heroes at the cabin, plus scout to make sure none of the priority students were there in the first place. Finally, there were the ones who’d comb the woods for the stragglers. 

Shouto was in these trees somewhere. As the winner of the Sports Festival and Endeavor’s son he was on the list as well. Not everyone was aware of his position for the sake of security. Izuku knew that was a smart decision, he certainly didn’t trust all of their new company, but he didn’t want anyone to take matters into their own hands either. Izuku couldn’t be everywhere at once, so he only hoped they listened when he stressed capturing students alive.

The new League recruits fell into two categories: those who had an agenda or a vendetta, like Dabi, and those who were just interested in violence or killing, like Muscular. He could respect Dabi, until he tried to attack Shouto, but he simply didn’t understand the others. 

Although, it wasn’t his choice. This was Tomura’s League, as he continued to remind him, and who made up the members was his choice. All that just meant Izuku had to deal with them. 

They emerged from the forest on an outcropping cliff. Izuku stopped for just a moment to admire the landscape. The moon was nearly full, hanging lazily in the early night sky. A few leftover stars dotted the dark space between the puffy clouds. The roofline of the cabin was visible over thick treetops. Hazy smoke and gas rose in the distance, a sign that Dabi and Mustard had already begun their part. The fire painted the landscape in blistering blue hues.

The night had only just begun and something told Izuku that it would stretch on long past its prime. 

Muscular called for him to keep up again and Izuku sucked in a breath of humid air. He followed the larger man silently.

They were further down the dusty dirt path, only slightly closer to the cabin, when Izuku suddenly held out his arm to stop him. Reaching out with the sensory quirk told him that they were too small to be a hero patrolling the area. Izuku frowned.

“What?” 

“Someone’s coming.” Izuku meant it as a warning, but Muscular grinned like someone had given him a gift. 

They turned the corner, stumbled over a rock and froze at the sight of them.

It was a child. 

He couldn’t be much older than five or six and Izuku was growing increasingly more curious about what he was doing out here all alone. Dark, spiked hair stuck out from underneath a red hat and his eyes grew wide in horror. 

“Oh, a face not on the list.” Muscular mused, inspecting the boy. “But you look just like your dad, don’t you?” He smirked.

Izuku jerked his attention from the child. “Wait, what? You know him?”

“He’s Water Hose’s kid.” Muscular answered matter-of-factly. He tore off the dark cape thrown over his clothes and cast into the wind. The boy flinched at the name. His eyes grew watery as Muscular’s smile widened dangerously. “Gave me this glass eye, but they dropped like flies anyway.” 

He took a step closer to the child, but Izuku held out a hand and stopped him again. “Water Hose...those heroes that died a few years ago?” He clarified. 

A sinking feeling filled him as he started to recall the news story he had seen: bloody stains on concrete, pink-shaded water, and a photograph of the villain who’d done it. He looked different in that photo, with both of his eyes intact, but the similarities were undeniable. 

Then this boy...

“Of course, they died!” Muscular laughed. “It wasn’t even about my eye, I didn’t really hold a grudge about it or anything. I killed them just because I wanted to!“

There was a splash of weak water on his clothes. Izuku jolted and glanced back at the boy in surprise. He wore a furious expression, although it was contrasted by the thick tears running down his face. The teenager was honestly baffled on why he hadn’t run away yet.

“Stop it!” He screamed. Droplets dripped from his outstretched fingers. “Stop talking about them–“

Muscular rushed forward faster than Izuku could stop him. A wild smile grew on his face as he clinched his fists. In a split second, Izuku reached out and pulled. The new recruits had been forced to give a brief description of their quirks and it was all Izuku needed to take it. 

Electricity buzzed in his ears. The villain cut off with a stuttering breath, skidding on the dusty ground. The roaring fury in his ears blurred that urge to collapse as another quirk joined his collection. At least it didn’t knock him out this time.

The boy stumbled away from him and dropped to his knees. Muscular’s chest heaved. The rippling muscles under his skin stalled. Izuku teleported between the child and the villain. He glared down at Muscular as they both caught their breath. 

“Didn’t you hear what I said? No one is dying tonight. This is about All Might, not the students and definitely not a child.” Izuku said firmly. “We’re here to capture the ones on the list, not terrorize your old grudges.”

His knuckles turned white gripping the grass. He looked up slowly at Izuku. The mechanical eye drilled into his skull, but he stood his ground. “You’re really pissing me off with your self-righteous bullshit, kid. It’s like those Stain-obsessed assholes.” He growled. “I don’t care what tricks you’re pulling, I’ll kill both of you.”

“You can’t use your quirk.” He didn’t specify that he didn’t have it at all anymore. “You won’t stand a chance.”

Muscular slammed his hand into the ground in frustration. In the blink of an eye, the villain shot forward. 

He had never seen anyone recover that quickly from getting their quirk taken. He didn’t hesitate, closing the distance between them in a second. He was aiming for the boy, peeked out behind Izuku.

He didn’t have any time to think about it, but he had to stop him. He couldn’t just step aside. 

A quirk that was fast. A quirk that would stop Muscular in his tracks, before he had the chance to hurt anyone else. 

His outstretched hand collided with bare skin. 

Then he was gone.

Childhood sobs echoed in his mind, flashes of red marred his sight. There was no cliffside, cicadas screaming from the trees and pinewood in his nose. 

There was only a steel room drowning in the thick stench of death. A scarred, thin arm. Thick blue-grey hair. 

“Again.” A voice that wasn’t his spoke. The syllables were sour on his tongue.

The force knocked his hood off of his head, thick curls fell damp. Something warm covered his skin and soaked through his clothes. Izuku blinked a few times in an attempt to make sense of the scene. 

His hand dropped to his side. 

He didn’t know what quirk had made itself known, but he felt like he should. The death smell wasn’t just it in his head, it was all around him, suffocating. His face mask was wet, heavy and he couldn’t breathe. He tore it off and threw it aside. 

Something glinted in the scarlet grass. Izuku exhaled shakily and plummeted to his knees in exhaustion. His body trembled. He reached for the little glass piece and held it up in the moonlight. Dazed, he tilted his head at the eye. 

Skin rippling and bursting. Muscles torn and shredded. Muscular was there, then he was gone.

The glass eye slipped out of his stained fingers and fell into the blades of painted glass. Izuku’s eyes grew large and he stared down at his bloody clothes in horror.

One moment there, the next gone in an explosion of blood and tissue. 

Izuku inhaled sharply, hands shaking.

He did that. Somehow, he did that. 

He had gotten close before. Sometimes he got in the way and something happened and it was his fault, but never–

Never had it been from his hand. Never had he actually done it, taken something like that from someone. 

A sob tore through him. He dry-heaved, resisting the urge to vomit onto the stained grass. The world spun around him and Izuku couldn’t ignore the stifling weight of the blood weighting his damp clothes down. 

When he slouched forward, sticky, red curls fell in his eyes. He squeezed them shut in an attempt to ignore everything around him, but the image of Muscular exploding replayed over and over in his mind. 

He wanted to rip off his clothes and his skin and scrub himself raw. Everything was so gross and dirty now. 

“You’re going to kill them, Eri!” A dead man screamed.

A sniffle cut through his hazy senses. Izuku flinched and jerked around toward the boy. He was frozen, staring wildly at Izuku and the spot where Muscular had been just a few seconds ago. Or maybe it had been minutes, Izuku wasn’t so sure anymore. 

The child was drenched in thick crimson. His clothes stuck to his skin and there were tracks down his cheeks like he has tried to wipe it out of his eyes. 

Their eyes met and he took a terrified step away from Izuku. “D-Don’t–“

Izuku swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “A-Are you hurt?”

The boy blinked at him, then down at the blood on his hands and shook his head painfully slow. Izuku needed a distraction. He needed something else to think about. He started to move toward him, but he flinched away again. 

“What’s your name?” He tried.

“Are you gonna kill me?” The child asked bluntly. He looked as sick as Izuku felt.

“No!” He promised as authentically as he could with the remains of Muscular all over him. Izuku let out a weak, pained laugh as he raised his hand and dragged his fingers through his sticky hair. A chunk of tissue slipped between his hand and fell onto the ground. “N-No...it was to protect you...he was going to kill you...” He trailed off.

Was it right because he was protecting someone who couldn’t fight back? Didn’t that justify the fact that Muscular would never take another breath, never take another step, never say another word? 

“Kouta.”

“H-Huh?” Izuku pulled himself from his thoughts before he got nauseous again. 

“My name.” He offered. He took another step backward, clearly testing if he could get away fast enough. 

“Wait–“ Izuku continued. “You can’t go back to the cabin. There’s others, they might hurt you, too.” He said.

He climbed to his feet, stuttering when he felt something slimy drip down his  temple. “You can’t keep me here!” Kouta protested. Clear panic appeared in his eyes. 

“It’s not safe.” He murmured. “Stay here, please. No one else will be coming this direction and, um, when you see police lights, then you can go–“

“Kouta!” A woman’s voice exclaimed in his mind. The boy stiffened at his name. “Can you hear me now?! You have to come back to camp! I’m sorry I don’t know where you run off to, but I can’t come get you now, so get back here!”

He wore a torn expression, unsure what to do. If someone was broadcasting that, some type of telepath, then the rest of the League must have already collided with the heroes and students. He needed to be there. Now that Muscular couldn’t keep up his part of the plan, Izuku had to work even harder. He swallowed roughly.

Izuku dropped to his knees before Kouta. “Listen, I have to go now, but I promise you, if you stay here you won’t be hurt by any of the other villains. The camp isn’t safe anymore, she can’t protect you.”

Kouta stared at him, wiping furiously at his face. He gave him a slow nod. “Okay. I’ll stay.” 

He wished he could take the boy with him, but that would have only been more dangerous. This was the safest place for him right now. Izuku smiled weakly. Whether he’d actually stay or not, he couldn’t do anything about that.  

He stood up and started toward the thicker tree line. There wasn’t any time to lose himself.

The students would be scattered through the woods along the path he had mapped out earlier in the week. Izuku ducked under a tree branch and teleported across the dusty road into the other side of thick trees. He didn’t allow himself to stop, panting with the effort of running all the way down the cliffside. 

If he stopped, then he’d have to think about everything that led him here. If he stopped, he’d have to realize why he was alone now, instead of partnered up like the plan said he was supposed to be.

He had gone only a few more meters through the trees until he suddenly heard a bird-like screech. He froze. The sound came from in front of him and he suddenly noticed the settling dust blurring the early stars as tree trunks crashed to the ground. Izuku cautiously carried on toward the disruption. This quirk wasn’t one he recognized from the League, but he couldn’t remember anything like that from the ones he saw at the Sports Festival either.

He muttered the new entries in his notebook to himself as he walked, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Tokoyami, please–“ A muffled shout distracted him and he stiffened in the shadow of the tree line. 

The forest faded out into a path, or maybe the path had been made by the massive shadow creature rippling before him. A large claw slammed down less than an arm’s length away from Izuku and he gripped the nearest tree with a gasp.

The shadow warped and twisted around a single point, a source of something with hollowing yellow eyes and a bird-shaped head. It, they, as Izuku realized that was a person, let out strained yells, but couldn’t contain the creature as it continued on its path of destruction. 

“Stay away from me!” The bird-like person snarled out of the darkness. Izuku watched in slow motion as another twisting shadow tendril stretched from the form toward a man with multiple limbs across the field. “It’ll kill you!”

The other, a student he recognized from the Sports Festival, was bleeding from one of his arms. He was clearly trying to help, but his voice, muffled by a blue mask, only served to agitate the creature further. Izuku watched the scene for a moment. 

There was a flash of the person in the middle as another shadowy claw shot toward the ground. His eyes widened. “Tokoyami.” He murmured to himself, recalling the list of priority students. 

He hadn’t been the most important one, but now he understood why his father had added his name. A quirk like this had potential; it wasn’t anything like what Izuku remembered from his matches during the festival. He didn’t dare to take it, not with it rampaging like this. 

The way it was acting and reacting, completely out of Tokoyami’s control...it was like a sentient being. That thought made Izuku’s skin crawl. 

Besides, Tokoyami himself had been on the list, not just his quirk. This was about just as much about the students as it was their quirks. Izuku’s resolve sharpened. Mr. Compress should be around here somewhere if he was sticking to his part, he only needed to lead them there. 

His quirk reacted to sound; he could work with that. Izuku activated an enhancer quirk and a strengthening quirk and kicked the nearest trunk. 

A heavy, splintering creak resonated through the trees as it fell into the undergrowth. He looked up toward the creature, only to see a pair of glowing eyes suddenly staring at him. He only had another second before it rushed toward him. 

Izuku stumbled backwards before he teleported a good length to the right. He charged another tree and jumped over it. The shadow creature gave into the chase, as did the multi-limb student, and the teenager smirked to himself. They had no idea what he was leading them to. 

He continued in his mission, pushing through trees and never slowing to let them catch up. Then, just as he noticed another break in the woods, he almost face-planted into the ground. Izuku yelped and caught himself with a last-minute teleport. 

He paused to catch his breath and furrowed his eyebrows at the piece of ice he had slipped on. It was the middle of the summer. Unless...

“–and what if doesn’t take him out?” A familiar sound graced his ears. 

A stupid smile grew on Izuku’s face. Then, the massive shadow creature behind him wiped it away. He burst out into the clearing and teleported across the area just as Tokoyami’s quirk caught up with him. 

“What the fuck is that?!” Izuku stopped. His fists tightened. He was just out of sight. None of them had noticed him yet.

But there he was. 

Kacchan looked old. He wasn’t actually much older than Izuku, but he seemed far older than he should be. 

The middle school boy he knew was gone. His mouth curled in a snarl as the words left him. Sharp eyes squinted at the shape breaking through the trees.  

There was something wet in his hands. Izuku let out a muted gasp at pinprick of pain and glanced down. There were crescent-shaped cuts in his palms. His blood traced the lines previously made by Muscular’s.

Moonfish was steadily chipping away at the ice barriers Shouto created. There was another student on his back, but Izuku didn’t recognize him from the Sports Festival, nor the list of targets.

“Please, Todoroki, Bakugou!” The teenager with multiple arms exclaimed as he ran toward them. “Tokoyami’s lost control of Dark Shadow, he needs light to get it under control!”

He grimaced at the drool seeping from Moonfish’s mouth. Izuku watched the students’ short conversation for a second, but a glint of metal distracted him. He tilted his head toward the villain and watched the tooth blade slide through a particularly thin piece of ice. It was aimed at Shouto’s chest.

The burning memory of blood on his hands and underground walls fueled him. Izuku jumped the distance and sliced through the blade before it met Shouto. The other teenagers jumped away from him in shock. 

Izuku glared up at Moonfish, but his expression was hidden by his hood. “I said alive!” He shouted furiously at the villain. 

This recklessness is what got people hurt. This diversion from the plan is what got people killed. Izuku clinched his fists, ignoring the warm blood staining his palms. 

Moonfish said something incoherent, but whatever his argument was got ignored when another tooth-blade arched over his head. He was supposed to be hoarding students toward Mr. Compress, not killing them. 

Izuku huffed in irritation and leaped into the air. He appeared behind him and aimed a kick to the back of his head. The villain collapsed like a rag doll. His teeth retracted into his mouth. Izuku landed on one of Shouto’s ice structures and dared a glance at the three students below. 

Shouto wore a fond smile, like Izuku was a present addressed to him or a lovely sunrise. He tried to not take his glowing expression to heart. 

The other two looked confused, or pissed off in Kacchan’s case. 

Izuku didn’t stop for them, focused on what the other one said. He pivoting on the ice column toward the gaining form of Tokoyami’s quirk. He ran through the quirks in his mind until he finally fell upon the correct one.

He held out his hands in the direction of the shadow form. There was a burning pain as the skin of his palms ripped opened in a neat line. He squeezed his eyes shut as it became too much to bare. Purple bloomed under his eyelids. 

When the shrieking of the shadow ceased, he deactivated the quirk and dropped his hands. Tokoyami was unconscious and he was quickly surrounded by his partner. 

“What the fuck was that?! Who the hell is he?!” He stiffened at the furious shout. 

Some childish part of him stung when Kacchan didn’t recognize him, but he pushed it aside. It had been over a year since then. Since he said what he couldn’t take back and Izuku woke up in a blistering building. They had both changed and his most distinct features were still hidden by his hood anyway. 

He shouldn’t recognize him. He shouldn’t want that. 

“One of the other villains Mandalay mentioned?” Shouto suggested faintly. “Should we engage?”

“Wait, Tokoy–“ The other teenager shouted abruptly. Izuku forced his gaze from Kacchan, but Tokoyami was gone, despite being unconscious just a few seconds ago.

Someone cleared their throat from the opposing trees. “I understand why Shigaraki keeps you around now.” Mr. Compress balanced precariously on a thick branch. “You got the three highest priority targets all in one group while the rest of us have been wandering through the woods for an hour.”

Izuku smiled thinly. “I do my best.” He called over the students’ heads. 

“Where’s Tokoyami?” The tallest one accused. His eyes narrowed at Mr. Compress. 

He could practically hear the smirk behind his mask. He held up the turquoise marble between two fingers. “He’s just fine, but I’m afraid we’ll be taking him.”

“Bastard–“ Kacchan snarled. Explosions crackled in his palms as he started toward Mr. Compress, but Shouto stepped forward and gripped the back of his shirt before he could get there. 

“Bakugou, wait a minute!” That split-second hesitation was all Mr. Compress needed.

The villain struck, plummeting to the ground and activating his quirk. A hand landed on each of them. In another second, they were gone. The boy on Shouto’s back fell to the ground, but didn’t stir. 

He snatched up the two crystal marbles and glanced up at Izuku. “Coming? We have what we need.”

Izuku gave him a nod and slid down the last sculpture. The last student looked like he wanted to pursue them, but there was a terrified glint in his eyes holding him back. Surely he knew he was outnumbered and outmatched. 

He didn’t spare him another look and gripped Mr. Compress’s arm. He teleported them deep in the trees before the last one could make up his mind. 

When they reappeared, Mr.Compress held out a single marble. “I think you’d like to hang onto this one.” He offered. 

“Shouto?” Izuku took it and turned over the ball in his hand. A tinted, warped reflection peered back at him.

“Of course. Let’s head toward the rendezvous location, hm?” Mr. Compress continued on and Izuku fell into step with him. “I must ask: what happened to your companion?”

Izuku tripped over a root, faltering. “H-Huh?”

He tilted his head, although his expression remained a mystery. “Muscular. Weren’t you two paired together with the southern point?”

His mouth grew dry. He kept walking, but each step felt like lead. It wasn’t like there weren’t others in the League that had...had done what he did, but he didn’t want to be grouped with them. 

He was different than them, wasn’t he? 

He saved someone. He defended that boy.

But even that explanation tasted sour on his tongue. He couldn’t say it aloud. He couldn’t look someone, his mother, his father, Shouto, in the eye and tell them that.

So he lied. “We ran into trouble with a teacher. He didn’t...make it.”  

“Hm...how unfortunate.”

They didn’t speak anymore. 

The rendezvous point was populated by a bored Dabi and an overactive Twice. They got the signal so they should have contacted Kuroguri already. Everyone was supposed to be heading back here. Izuku took a deep breath.  “What the hell happened to you?” The fire user asked from where he was leaning against a tree. 

He inspected Izuku obviously. The teenager glanced down at his stained clothes down and spoke with a strangled voice. “J-Just some trouble.”

“Muscular and Moonfish won’t be joining us.” Mr. Compress stated, holding up the remaining two marbles. Shouto remained tightly clasped in Izuku’s hand.

“Which ones did you get?” Twice exclaimed. “The worst of those brats, I’m sure!”

“The ones o–“

“Hey! You guys are already back!” Toga interrupted, slipping out of the shadows. She sheathed a knife as she walked closer to their collected group. “I made some new friends and–“ She tilted her head at Izuku, then licked her lips. A shiver ran down his spine. “You’re all covered in blood, Izu-kun.”

The assembled villains looked at him expectantly. “I-I, um...Muscular and I got– We ran into some heroes.” He explained lamely. 

“Did you kill them?” Toga asked. Her golden eyes sparkled in excitement. “You look really nice with all that blood, you know.”

“U-Uh–“

Mr. Compress cleared his throat. “Nonetheless, we have what we need.” He held up the two remaining marbles between his fingers. “You contacted our getaway driver, didn’t you?”

“Obviously.” Dabi rolled his eyes. “Should be any minute now.”

Izuku rolled Shouto’s marble in his hand as they waited. Twice seemed content in arguing with himself. Toga kept trying to scoot closer to him. 

She was distracted as a massive portal opened. “Awesome! We can go back now!” She cheered.

“Mr.Compress, you go first.” Izuku said. He flicked his wrist, twisting the pair of marbles into the palm of his hand before he closed his first. 

“I’ll see you–“ Mr. Compress broke off with a grunt. His wrist was suddenly yanked backwards. 

Izuku watched the marbles fall out of his grasp, only to be caught by a tan hand before hitting the ground. “Shoji!” He jerked his head toward a girl’s exclamation. “You got them?”

A brunette and green-haired amphibian girl bolted from the tree line. He gasped in recognition. He knew them from Shouto, his stories from school. Bubbly Uraraka and honest Tsuyu. Tokoyami’s partner, Shoji, has caught up them as well. Tsuyu’s outstretched tongue returned to her mouth. 

“Ochako-chan!” Toga exclaimed. “You missed me so much, you just couldn’t let me go, huh?” She beamed at the brunette before extracting a knife and twisting it expertly. 

“What an idiot; you led them here!” Dabi scolded. One of his arms illuminated in blue flames. 

Shoji straightened up with a determined glare. The marbles were secure in one of his hands, but Izuku wasn’t sure which. If he could get close enough, he could probably knock him out and take them. If Dabi and Toga distracted the girls, then it’d be a straight shot. However, before anyone could move, Mr. Compress cut them off with a chuckle.

“How impressive, well done!” The thief called. “You must be quite proud of yourself, but I unfortunately must inform you of the first of rule of magic:”

More portals appeared around the field. They still had Shouto, but surely they couldn’t leave without the others. The more students, the faster All Might would have to move. Besides, if the heroes managed to figure out Shouto was actually on their side, it would ruin everything. 

Mr. Compress took a step backward into the warp gate. A hand raised, tugging aside his mask and he opened his mouth. “The flaunting of an object is inevitably part of the trick.” 

The students’ faces shattered as they recognized the switch. Izuku let out a breathy laugh. He didn’t even remember him doing that, but he hadn’t really thought to pay such close attention to his allies. He shifted toward the nearest portal. Toga wished the girls a cheery goodbye, ignoring their horrified expressions. 

The thief bowed dramatically, securing his mask again. “So this is where I leave you, dear audience.” Izuku resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the display. 

“You can’t do this!” Uraraka cried. She tried to run toward Mr. Compress, but she collapsed in the grass. Izuku noticed the deep wound in her thigh for the first time. It bled heavily. Her skin was painted an unnatural, pale shade in the moonlight. “Give them back!”

Tsuyu leapt forward in a last ditch effort, but a burst of light distracted them. Izuku faltered, halfway through the warp gate. Twice and Toga were already gone. It emerged from the bushes in a glittering line, slicing through Mr. Compress’s face.

He sputtered, falling backwards. The marbles were spit from his mouth. Izuku rushed forward at the same time as everyone. The telekinesis quirk prickled on his fingers, but it wasn’t fine enough to manipulate things that small. He could only shove Tsuyu back into a tree. If only he had borrowed his mother’s quirk.

Tsuyu’s outstretched tongue threw one aside anyway. It landed in Shoji’s tallest, outstretched hand. “Got it!”

Uraraka rushed for the second one, but her injury made it impossible. It landed in a scarred hand before she could reach it. Dabi smirked down at her. “How sad...”

He fell back into the portal away from her. “I’ve got the number one, release them, Mr. Compress.” 

The thief sighed heavily. “They made such a mess of my show.” Only one of his hands remained. He snapped and the noise echoed in the painful night space. 

Shouto gasped aloud, whipping his head around as he took in his new surroundings. His wrist remained firmly in Izuku’s.

“They got Todoroki, too?!” Uraraka gasped miserably.

Shouto faltered at the sight of his ruined classmates. Izuku pushed him through the nearest portal before anyone could attempt anything else. The purple energy dissolved into the dark midnight.

Izuku looked back toward largest portal. Humid air floated around the discarded students and victorious allies.

Number one on the list had been Kacchan. 

They had won.

A thick wind rippled through the clearing as more warps closed. His damp clothes were thrown back with the force, hair twisting in the sudden breeze. 

When his eyes flickered back toward Kacchan, his face was pale, compatible with the whites of his eyes. He stared directly at Izuku like he had never seen him before. A sweat broke out under on his skin as their gazes met. Dabi’s grip tightened on his throat as he pulled him backwards into the portal. 

Izuku realized his mistake a stilted second later. The face mask abandoned on a dusty cliffside, soaked with another man’s blood. The hood, colored brown now, pushed down to show off his crimson splattered freckles. 

He wanted to say something to that horrified look on his face, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out. 

Kacchan didn’t dare fight Dabi. Maybe he was too distracted by the sight of Izuku, alive and covered in drying blood. 

Izuku still hated his voice.

“Deku.” 

Chapter Text

“Welcome!” Tomura held out his arms in a dramatic gesture. Pasty hands gripped his limbs and that stench of rotten skin made Shouto wrinkle his nose. 

The villains collected around him grinned threateningly. Toga leaned over the bar’s counter and hummed a curious tune. Spinner looked up from his sword of blades, boots kicked up on the table he and Izuku usually sat at. Dabi was smoking something in the corner of the room. The smoke framing his face seemed right. 

He knew this was all a show. They had to maintain appearances for the sake of his purpose, but it was annoying. Tight, metal restraints dug into his wrists and kept him trapped in his chair. Not all of them knew about him anyway. He tried to avoid the villains’ gazes. 

Shouto tilted his head toward Bakugou instead. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting his reaction to be, but it wasn’t quite this.

His skin was colorless, shoulders slumped with the weight of his own restrains. His eyes were crimson daggers staring emptily at Izuku. 

The dark-haired teenager gazed back. There was something strained in his face, a mix of emotions Shouto didn’t recognize. He had never seen him look quite like that. He wished he could do something.

Before Tomura could continue his boring speech, Bakugou opened his mouth.

“You’re dead.” Izuku flinched. 

His mouth pressed into a trembling line. His hands curled into fists. He didn’t meet Bakugou’s eyes. He didn’t meet Shouto’s either.

He had called them complicated. Izuku always used a melancholy tone, like he missed him, in some way that Shouto didn’t understand. He hadn’t ever asked, either. There was something that he just couldn’t let go of when it came to Bakugou.

Bakugou refused to speak on the matter. He got angry whenever Shouto said anything about him, probably assuming he just trying to push his buttons. Not that Shouto wasn’t, but nonetheless.

Izuku opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He wilted against the brick wall.

“Did you hear me?” Bakugou snapped after the pained silence. “You’re fucking dead.”

“I’m confused.” Toga chirped. She turned her head between them like she was watching a particularly exciting sports match. “Do you know Izu-kun?”

Tomura inspected them for a moment. Then his cracking face split into a smile. “Oh, so you do know each other, huh? What a coincidence.”

“Don’t be like that.” Izuku murmured. “You knew. You knew when you put him on the list.” His eyes flickered up from the floorboards toward Tomura with a deadly glint. 

“No, Sensei is the one who suggested him.” Tomura corrected proudly. “I just agreed, because why not?” He threw out a hand toward Bakugou. “That display at the Sports Festival was hilarious! All because you lost to that one?” 

Shouto scowled as Tomura pointed a finger in his direction. Sure, he agreed with everything he said, Bakugou’s reaction was ridiculous, but he hated agreeing with Tomura of all people.

Izuku looked sick. “This isn’t about him. It’s about All Might.”

The pale-haired villain shrugged. “They’re bait, yes, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t valuable. We’re looking for scorned people like that.” 

“He’s not scorned!” Izuku protested. “He lost a school festival! He’s the poster child for Yuuei, he always has been!”

“What the fuck?” Bakugou snarled. “You want me to join your ragtag band of losers? You better get down on your knees and start fucking begging!”

Shouto furrowed his eyebrows. Maybe Tomura wasn’t an idiot; he was just blind. Anyone could see that Bakugou Katsuki was a prime example of the next generation of heroes. The only better example...well, that would be Shouto. 

However, even if Tomura didn’t realize that, Izuku’s father must have. So why put him as the number one priority, over even Shouto who would arguably attract more heroes as bait due to his father’s position?

“So what? That’s what fucking happened?” The blond growled. “You were jealous of me because you’re a useless wannabe and you decided to join this group of losers?”

“Did you think I wanted to die?” Izuku exclaimed in shock. “You think I wanted to leave my entire life behind? I didn’t– T-This wasn’t about me! And it wasn’t about you either!”

“Bullshit! You’ve been chasing after me for years, you can’t get out from my damn shadow and you never will!” He yelled.

Izuku shook his head slowly and took a step backwards. “Kacchan–“

“I can’t believe I actually felt fucking sorry for you!” Bakugou continued bitterly. Painful betrayal flashed across his face as the words spilled between them. Each one seemed to physically cut Izuku; he flinched with every shouted syllable. “I went to your goddamn funeral, I told those dumbass extras to stop calling you names after you were dead!”

The villains seemed to be divided about the scene unfolding before them. Toga was falling over the bar in interest, cat-like eyes darting between the pair. Dabi looked incredibly bored and he busied himself by lighting each of his fingers on fire before dousing them and starting again. He must be out of cigarettes. Kuroguri and Mr. Compress were cleaning silverware, obviously listening while appearing disinterested.

Tomura wearily watched Izuku curl in on himself further. That smug expression that appeared when Bakugou first opened his mouth had vanished. He looked like he was starting to rethink his position beside him. 

“T-That’s not what happened.” Izuku tried. “It was an accident, the explosion–“

“Oh, bullshit!” The blond retorted. “You probably set it off yourself, finally get someone to talk about you on the news because you’d been so jealous since that slime villain put me on the front page and you’re too much of a coward to actually kill yourself!”

“I saved you! I’m the one who stopped that villain, not the heroes, not All Might, not even you!” He cried. His hands were shaking. “H-How can you say that?! I t-thought maybe, maybe that it’d be different, that you’d be different because of what happened–“

“You wanna talk about different? You think it’s different because you’re marching around with your ragtag team of cowards and losers?!” He barked.

Izuku clinched his fists, but it didn’t stop his trembling. He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Or, at least Bakugou didn’t allow him to speak any further.

“You know that it doesn’t fucking matter where you go or who you think you’ve made friends with, because you’re always going to be pathetic, quirkless Deku!” Bakugou shouted in retaliation.

Shouto felt a sharp drag under his skin. He slouched forward, as did Bakugou. Tomura tripped and fell into Izuku, which managed to snap his out of the miserable glare he was giving Bakugou.

“What the fuck?” Bakugou stuttered. His face had taken on that pasty color again, like he might vomit onto the floor in front of him.

He recognized that feeling. The pull, nearly always followed by emptiness. Yet, when Shouto tried to activate his quirk, frost climbed up the leg of his chair. He hadn’t taken it.

“I’m sorry.” Izuku murmured. He wiped at his face. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“What was that?” Toga asked Magne quietly, but curiously. She only earned a shrug.

Tomura’s face contorted into a scowl as he stumbled to his feet and glared down at Izuku. “Give me back my quirk.” 

“Sorry.” He repeated. 

Izuku didn’t meet his eyes, but wrapped a hand around his wrist. Glowing green lines sparked between them for a quick second, then vanished as Izuku retracted his hand.

“What the hell?” Bakugou growled. “What the hell did you do?”

His eyes remained trained on his hand, even after Tomura retreated from him. He wore a blank expression, dancing just on the edge of dizzy. Shouto was concerned that he might pass out. 

“I lied.” Izuku spoke. The words silenced the room again. “Everything you did to me, it was all because of a lie.”

“What the fuck are you on about now?”

His eyes lifted toward Bakugou, dazed and electric. The expression was unsettling on his features. It reminded Shouto of someone else, but he wasn’t quite sure who.

Izuku held out his hand, the one that had returned Tomura’s quirk, and spread his calloused fingers. Sparks lit up his palm, bursting in a flash of heat and smoke.

“I always wondered what it’d feel like,” He muttered, a million miles away. “because after all you did to me, you still had an amazing quirk. Every single time I saw it, I wanted to...but I never did.”

The explosion lit up his face in warm colors. It changed the shade of his eyes. 

Shouto watched Bakugou carefully. He watched the gears turning in his head as he watched his own quirk in someone’s hands. His face twisted into a snarl when Izuku’s hand dropped to his side again. The smell of nitroglycerin lingered in the musty bar.

“My quirk emerged when I was four, just like yours. It wasn’t my choice to tell you, but it didn’t matter, because you had already changed with yours.” Izuku continued quietly. “I’m not quirkless. I never was.”

“Liar!” Bakugou jerked in his restrains. Shouto flinched away as his chair rocked on the uneven floorboards. “You’re a fucking liar! You damn–“

“Let him go.” Izuku tilted his head toward Twice. 

The previously ignored League member jolted as everyone looked at him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Mr. Compress spoke up.

“Do it. Just the arms, so he doesn’t run off.” Tomura interrupted with a smirk. “I’m interested to see where this is going.”

Twice moved forward. He awkwardly scooted between Izuku and Bakugou’s ongoing staring contest and removed the metal restrains keeping his wrists bound together. Bakugou lunged for him, but Twice scrambled backwards before he could reach him. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, you think I’m just going to sit here–“ Bakugou flexed his hands, struggling with his ankle restraints. 

“Then break out.” Izuku said. The blond glared at him. “You’re powerful enough and I’m still lying, right?” There was an accusatory tone that didn’t match his trembling posture. “But you can’t use your quirk anymore, right?” He whispered the last question. It felt like the words didn’t belong to him. 

Bakugou’s hands shook. He gripped the chair’s arms. “What...What the fuck did you do, Deku?” 

He opened his mouth to answer, but he suddenly froze when noticed Shouto still sitting beside Bakugou. A nauseous expression crossed Izuku’s face. “N-No...No, I can’t do this.” Izuku shook his head and backed away. “Tomura, do whatever you were supposed to do.”

“Wait, what?” The pale-haired villain scoffed from where he had been leaning forward on his bar stool in interest. “All that and you’re done?”

“I c-can’t.” His face softened. Shouto wanted to rush forward and take him in his arms. 

Tomura sighed in annoyance and crossed over to him. “You were finally acting like Sensei! You take it all for granted! Do you know what I’d give to be you?” He snapped. Izuku shrunk further in on himself.

That was what that was. The glint in his eyes, the bitter anger in his voice.

When he got upset, Izuku looked just like his father.

This was just a waiting game. It wouldn’t be much longer before All Might arrived, then it’d be over. 

“Icyhot.” Shouto raised his head in surprise. 

Bakugou had barely said a word since Izuku vanished into the background. Maybe he was still reeling over his missing quirk, or trying to devise a plan past the collected villains around the bar. It didn’t matter; Shouto enjoyed the silence and misery radiating from him. 

Something told Shouto that he was still there, probably using a quirk to stay just outside of their senses. He wanted to comfort him so badly, but he still couldn’t move, much less give himself away to Bakugou. 

“What?” 

If the League members were listening to their small talk, they didn’t make it known. Toga was currently beating everyone at whatever card game they were playing. 

“Do something.”

Shouto turned his head slowly toward the blond. “What?” He deadpanned.

“You can still use your stupid quirk, can’t you?” He accused quietly. “You can freeze this whole room and break the restraints, I know you can. So do it.”

He blinked at him. He never figured that he paid that much attention to his quirk, or maybe he was grasping at straws. Shouto could do that. It would be rather easy, but he didn’t want to. He couldn’t exactly explain it to Bakugou though.

“I can’t.” He answered simply. “My quirk isn’t working either.”

Hopefully, he wouldn’t see through the blatant lie.

A beat of silence passed between them. Shouto admired the knots in the floorboards. 

Then, Bakugou spoke again. “What the fuck were you doing at my middle school last year?” 

Shouto froze. “What do you mean?” He asked lowly.

“Don’t play fucking dumb, Icyhot. I remember it. There aren’t many people who look like you, so don’t try that either.” The blond continued. “You showed up there asking about Deku.”

“I saw him on the news.” Shouto lied. “I was curious.”

“You saw him on the news?”

“Yes.” 

“Why would he have been on the news? His death was months ago by then.” Bakugou pushed.

“How am I supposed to know?” Shouto retorted. His eyes darted toward the blond in irritation. “Why does it matter?”

“‘Cause you’re a fucking liar, just like him.”

“Bakugou–“ He hissed.

He tilted his head back with a bitter laugh. The noise attracted the League’s attention again. “Damn, you fooled everyone, huh? You could break us out of here, you just don’t want to.”

“What are you talking about?” 

His gaze shifted toward Shouto. “You were there at USJ and I heard the crap Handsy over there said, but it made no sense. Then at the camp you pulled me back, didn’t you? If you hadn’t done that, Mr. Magician wouldn’t have grabbed either of us. You wanted that to happen.”

“I didn’t–“ Shouto kept his face unrevealing, offended, but a shiver crawled up his spine. 

“That shit you said about Deku. Why the fuck would you care about a dead kid? ‘Cause you knew he wasn’t dead!” Bakugou snapped forward. “What the hell? You working for them?”

Shouto shook his head. “Bakugou, that’s insane.”

“Bullshit!” He flinched at his shout. “Don’t fucking call me insane, I know what’s going on! This is about you! You’re a fucking traitor!”

Traitor. 

That’s what he was. 

He knew one day he’d come clean. One day, it’d be obvious. All of his secrets and crimes would be bared for the world to see and judge and that’s what the heroes would call him. 

He was a traitor.

When Shouto didn’t answer with anything, Bakugou rocked his chair and reached out for him. “Huh?! What else you got to say–“

A hand closed around Bakugou’s wrist before he could grab onto Shouto. Izuku frowned. “Don’t drag him into this, Kacchan.”

“I’m not the one dragging him into anything!” He protested furiously. “Sounds to me that you’re the one who did that!” 

“Everything I did was because I wanted to.” Shouto interrupted. He supposed his fling at Yuuei was as good as gone, if Bakugou made it out of this alive. Might as well get the facts straight. “Stop blaming Izuku for everything, this was my choice.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kiddi–“ Bakugou ripped his hand out of Izuku’s grip and broke off as a heavy knock echoed through the room. 

Shouto paused and inspected the villains around the room, but the League members looked as confused as he was. Izuku furrowed his eyebrows and looked toward the heavy metal door. 

“Kamino pizza delivery!” A voice called through the steel. 

The villains exchanged glances. Tomura scoffed and turned toward the others. “Which one of you idiots–“

Izuku reached forward, recognition twisting in his face. “Wait–“

The world caved in. 

Chapter Text

Once the smoke had cleared and the aching in his head had ceased, Izuku finally identified the restraints keeping him in place as thick, tree-like branches wrapped around his middle. The tendrils were as thick as his head and strong enough that he struggled to breathe in their hold. 

Kamari Wood’s quirk, he connected from an old notebook entry. He wondered if those branches counted as skin contact. Even if it did, he didn’t try to take the quirk. He didn’t need any extra advertisement of his connection with All for One. 

Izuku tried to shift in the branches’ hold and survey the scene, but he was blocked by Shouto and Kacchan’s chairs. It ended up not mattering, because the voice he needed to hear boomed over his head and filled the air around him. 

“Your reign ends here, Shigaraki Tomura!” All Might shouted. Izuku’s breath hitched. He jerked his head toward the hero in the center of the room.

He was here. He was actually here.

Izuku fought the urge to say something, anything that came to mind, to the man here before them. It had been years since he had seen him in person. Not since that lovely middle school afternoon. 

Instead, he bit his lip and gripped the branch wrapped around him as it tightened. Kuroguri was slumped forward on the bar’s surface, removing any hope of escape. If All Might was here, then Dad couldn’t be far behind. He’d be here soon. They only had to hold out until then.

Heroes filled the room after All Might. Izuku had never seen so many heroes in one place. An old man in a yellow suit glared at Tomura. “Where’s your boss?!” He demanded.

Someone moved forward to release Shouto and the rest of Kacchan’s restraints. Izuku shrunk in on himself as they grew nearer, but none of the heroes even spared him a glance. 

They were too focused on the others, all the ones who had a long collection of crimes under their names. Tomura was their leader after all. There was no reason to bother the trembling boy against the wall. He had just mixed with the wrong crowd.

He didn’t matter. He didn’t exist. 

He wasn’t even alive.

Izuku forced himself to breathe as Tomura screamed bitter obscurities at All Might. He was still shaking, even though Kacchan hadn’t even looked in his direction since the heroes’ arrival. Shouto looked like he wanted to rush to his side once he was released, but he wisely kept his distance. 

He shouldn’t feel like this. It wasn’t like Kacchan hadn’t ever said mean things to him before. It wasn’t like he never hurt him before. He should be better than this.

A bitter taste burned on his tongue. Izuku wrinkled his nose suddenly as the taste grew stronger. Black sludge burst into the space between the heroes and villains. Shouto doubled over in a cough. 

“D-Dad.” Izuku gasped as the quirk surrounded him.

“He’s here! S-Sensei’s here, it’s over!” Tomura cackled hysterically until his mouth filled with the quirk.

He looked up at Kacchan. The blankly petrified expression on his face made Izuku freeze. He collapsed to his knees as the sludge grew thicker around him. All Might shouted something at the heroes as the other League members started to vanish, but Izuku didn’t have it in him to decipher the words.

For the shortest second, there was that desperate look in his gaze, that desperate look that called out to him once before.

Just as fast as it came, it was gone. Those crimson eyes narrowed on Izuku and his face morphed into an unmistakable snarl. 

Then he was gone altogether.

Izuku slammed into concrete. He coughed up the remains of that bitter taste in his mind and caught his breath for a moment. 

The air was humid out here. Voices rippled around him as he gripped the destroyed pavement. His fingernails were colored maroon with blood and dirt. 

“...because your quirk isn’t one I need.” He froze at the casual sentence. It was a voice he knew quite well, but never in a tone like that. Izuku forced his gaze from the asphalt and searched his new surroundings.

The entire area had been destroyed in a twisted pattern, something that reminded him of the aftermath of an All Might fight. All the buildings around them were half collapsed, teetering on their edges. Other League members appeared with the sticky, black quirk, falling around the space and steadying themselves.

In the center of everything stood his father. 

Izuku couldn’t do anything but gape at him for a moment. Helicopters hummed in the distance, warning them of the heroes arrival. Wind carved through the landscape, further wrinkling the clean lines of his dark suit. 

It had been years since he had seen his father out of their home like this. When Dad left, it was never a family trip. When he left, it was never anywhere he was allowed to go. 

Here they were, right here together. Everything led up to right here, right now.

“Sensei!” Tomura stumbled to his feet. The pale-haired villain rushed past the crumpled form of denim and dropped to his knees before his father. “Sensei! He was there, All Might came, just like you said he would!”

Dad didn’t speak to Tomura. He barely even spared him a glance before Kacchan had straightened up. 

“What the hell? Who...” The teenager blinked at his father, nose wrinkled with the aftertaste of the summoning quirk. He turned to face him, effectively hiding the real emotions of his expression from Izuku. 

Dad smiled thinly. There was more to this than All Might. There was something else he was keeping from him. “Bakugou. It’s been a while.”

“What–“ 

A hand closed on Izuku’s wrist. He flinched and jerked his attention from the others, whatever assembly of curses that spilled from Kacchan’s mouth. Shouto wore a soft, concerned expression. His grip was gentle, more comforting now that Izuku realized it was him. 

“Are you okay?” He spoke barely above a whisper. Izuku forced himself to nod.

No. This was all wrong.

Shouto slid his hand down and linked their fingers together in an attempt to console him. His panic must be written all over his face. Or, maybe, Shouto just knew him that well.

“No...wait a fucking minute,” Kacchan growled. His words echoed around the ruined city block. He turned his head, scarlet sweeping the villains. His bloody gaze settled on Izuku. He whipped around to his father again. “what the fuck?”

Dad’s face split into a wider smile. 

“I know you don’t always understand it, but I promise you, everything I do is for you and your mother.”  He always said that when Izuku asked where he went, what he did. That was always his excuse.

A gust of wind spilled between them. Izuku shook his head slowly. “Dad–“ He started. His grip tightened on Shouto as he pushed himself up. 

It didn’t matter as something cracked in the air. Wind threw them backwards. Exclamations of his allies burst around him. Pain bloomed in his back as he slammed into the remains of a building. Something cracked. A cool hand brushed his face as his heart thumped and everything was blotted out by white spots.

“...zuku, Izuku?!” He blinked lazily. Shouto cupped his face, eyebrows furrowed as he inspected him. “Hey, can you hear me?” 

“Mmhm.” Izuku forced himself to return. He gripped his arm, helping himself sit up with a sharp gasp. “I’m okay.” He lied as the world spun. 

That was a mistake. Now, he could see clearly over the slope of Shouto’s shoulder. His eyes grew wide at the scene behind him. 

All Might was here. 

The earth rumbled as he and his father traded super-powered blows. It was so fast, Izuku couldn’t even track the movement with his eyes. His father was on the defense as All Might spit and screamed at him. 

There wasn’t...there was no way Dad would lose, right?

It took a second of watching, recovering, but he noticed nonetheless. “They’re pulling their punches.” 

“What?” Shouto gasped, panic bleeding through his voice. “What are you talking about?” He pushed aside his dirty curls gently. “Izuku, you’re bleeding.”

“All Might’s pulling his punches. He’s got to be doing it because of you and Kacchan. But if that’s the case, then Dad should blow him away, but he’s also holding back, too–“ Izuku cut himself off abruptly 

Their argument had ended cornered in their kitchen the night before. The house was silent besides a dripping faucet and his mother and Eri snoring in their rooms. Dad had frowned down at him, a glass of water in his grasp. 

“If you go, then you leave as soon as All Might arrives. No matter what happens.” He made him promise.

“Why even let me participate in the raid at all? I thought you wanted my help.” Izuku had argued.

“I want you to be safe.” 

There had been nothing to argue about. 

“I have to go.” Izuku breathed. “We have to go. It’s me. He’s holding back because of me.”

Shouto stole a glance over his shoulder at the fight. “All Might is going to lose–“

“Not if we don’t leave.” He protested. “Where’s the rest of the League?”

Izuku swiped at the newest layer of grime on his skin. The blood was still warm where it rolled down his forehead, but there was no open wound it was gushing from. The sounds of the fight slammed against his fading headache. He gripped the crumbling wall to help himself stand. 

“I don’t know. They got thrown to the other side, I think.” Shouto caught him as he stumbled. “Izuku, wait a minute.”

“I’m fine, I’m already healing.” He argued firmly. Izuku took Shouto’s warm hand. “Trust me, please. We can’t stay here.”

Shouto frowned at him, disbelief blatant on his face. “Take a minute, you’re hurt and after what Bakugou–“

“This isn’t about him!” Izuku snapped. 

The other jumped at his sharp tone, then again as a piece of rubble was thrown in their direction. His right arm lifted, but Izuku was faster. He teleported them in a second. He shoved Shouto and they landed several meters away from the crash. 

He hissed as he skinned his leg on a iron wire. Izuku glanced up at Shouto. He wore a wide-eyed expression. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah.” Shouto swallowed. 

All Might let out a brutal noise. Izuku didn’t dare look at the fight. He forced himself up and reached out to pull Shouto up. “Come on.”

He didn’t give either of them a moment of pause before surveying the scene for the best opening. They didn’t have time to stop. His heart pounded in his chest. Izuku gripped Shouto’s hand and jumped.

They were hidden by a long remaining half wall for a single second before something was thrown through the other edge. Izuku squeezed his eyes shut  as debris flew around them. A chill filled the air when Shouto created an ice barrier to shield them.

Part of it crumbled in another second, revealing All Might’s bruised form slumped in a crater. Izuku twisted around the remains of the ice barrier and pressed his back to the cold wall. He paused for a moment, holding his breath and hoping that the hero hadn’t noticed him.

“Todo...roki...” The broken hero croaked. Izuku glanced toward Shouto nervously. He hadn’t moved, mystified by All Might’s state. 

He could only see half of his face, soot-darkened hair and a single, coal colored eye. Shouto looked like he might be sick, frozen in place as he stared back at his teacher. 

“Tell me, All Might,” His father’s voice echoed through the space. Izuku braced himself for impact. “how did it look up there? Your pedestal built on others’ sacrifices?”

The hero released a guttural sputter. Shouto’s ice barrier shook. Izuku fell to the ground as it shattered over his head. Shouto coughed and spit, falling beside Izuku. 

“Are you okay?” Izuku crawled toward him. His father and All Might abandoned this part of the battlefield in a supersonic burst. 

He touched Shouto carefully as he wiped at his face. A pink smudge stained his arm, dripping down the rough skin of his scar. 

“Yeah, just got some dirt in mouth, I think.” Shouto answered. “I think All Might pushed him away from here because he saw me. He doesn’t know.”

Izuku nodded shakily. “We’ve got to keep moving.” 

The ground shook again and something collapsed. He teleported then out of the way of the falling concrete. They appeared just on the edge of the battlefield. He knew he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t allow himself a moment of pause, but he couldn’t help it.

There were crimson smears across the asphalt, something chunky that shouldn’t belong outside of skin. Izuku’s eyes narrowed on it, exhaling shakily. Memories of a middle school rooftop and a wrinkled torso flashed in his mind. 

Dad was going to kill him. That was what was going to happen here. 

He could see the explosions of energy across the city block, where the two superpowers clashed. Helicopter blades hummed like flies in the summer air, blue and red lights lit up the underbellies of dark clouds in the distance. 

All Might had no hope. All the cards were stacked against him. They made sure of it. Izuku made sure of it. 

Shouto took his hand again. “Izuku?”

The teenager didn’t answer. He stared and stared at the bleeding cracks in the concrete. The stench in the air of ozone and dust and death. It felt like he was back there, standing between a murderer and a sobbing child. 

His clothes had dried, but they were heavy. He’d washed <him> away from the cracks in his hands at the bar, but the images were still seared in his mind. 

One second there, then gone. 

Simply, completely gone. 

“Deku!” A childhood voice shrieked across his memories.

Izuku stiffened. He tore his eyes from the scene, to the hazy blob of blond growing closer. His hand tightened on Shouto’s. 

They needed to get out of here. They needed to clear the field, or else Dad wouldn’t be able to go all out. 

“You fucking traitorous bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!” Izuku didn’t know who he was referring to.

His body felt like a taut rubber band, lost in his memories. There was something about that voice, that anger, that sent him back to middle school. Wind whistled in his ears, his grimy hair tossed in the air. The city skyline under sunshine, from the edge of a roof. Footsteps were gaining. Explosion itched under his skin. 

He didn’t want it anymore. It was too much. It had hurt him too many times. The memories were seared across his skin in pale little fireworks.

“Deku!” A hand, burning hot even without the fire behind it, gripped his shoulder and threw him backwards. 

His throat was suddenly tight. Nothing came out, nothing was allowed to come out. He couldn’t give himself away. He couldn’t let anyone know, just like he had been taught to hide. 

It was what he was best at.

Izuku choked on a whimper. If he didn’t let him know, then he’d go away. If he cut himself off, then he’d stop. 

He caught a glance of Shouto’s face, soft, concerned. “Izu–“

“Give me back my quirk!” Kacchan screeched. He threw a right hook, it always started as right. Izuku twisted out of the way, but it was dazed, delayed, and it landed on his cheek. 

“Izuku!”

“Stay out of this, traitor!” Kacchan shouted viciously. Shouto flinched again. Izuku wiped off his face and held out a hand for him in warning. “Give it back!”

“I-I can’t–“

“Liar!” He screamed. “You fucking liar, you took it! You don’t deserve it, damned quirkless bastard!” 

Izuku’s blood chilled. The color drained from him.

“That’s all you’ll ever be!” Kacchan continued. He threw another burning punch. Izuku didn’t dodge. “You can take all the quirks in the world, but they’re never going to be yours!”

The pain blossomed in bitter nostalgia across his face. Something dripped from his nose. A copper taste on his tongue, something sulfuric in the air.

A cold hand gripped his wrist and echoing in his ears with the ringing was a voice he knew better. A voice he loved. He couldn’t decipher the words. They were too garbled or broken or rushed, but none of that mattered with Kacchan right here. 

His eyes were molten blood, flashing in a way that always used to end with a crackle and a burn. Something crashed far away, twisting wind and concrete.

They needed to leave. They had to get out. 

He didn’t want to hear this anymore. He couldn’t stand his face, violent and unconfined and never-ending. 

Every road home from school had Kacchan at the end of it. Every classroom had Kacchan in the first seat. Every school had Kacchan on the front steps. Every screen had Kacchan playing on it.

He was always there, popping explosions and burning fire and laughter and curses and pain. White hot pain.

“You’ll always be useless, quirkless Deku!” He shouted. 

He was going to hit him again. 

There was a metallic taste on his tongue, purple blooming on his face like a rose, a stained upper lip. There were explosions in his eyes, burning under Izuku’s skin. 

He wanted him gone. He wanted those words ripped out of his throat, never to be repeated again. 

Izuku raised his hand to defend himself in a way that had been beaten out of by the jaded age of six. 

He wanted his face gone, those spitting words and crimson eyes and ash-colored strands splattered on the concrete with his childhood hero.

Muscular wished him luck and then, Kacchan was gone.

Kacchan, finally, blissfully, was gone.

Izuku exhaled shakily. Something dripped down his face, mixing with hot tears. Liquid soaked his drying clothes to the bone, tracing the lines of his fingers.

A hand tightened on his sleeve. “I-Izuku...” 

He barely heard his name over the ringing in his ears. The noise reminded him of a blond boy and a viotal quirk. 

“No!” All Might screamed in horror. Izuku’s eyes darted up. 

His father and the hero had frozen in their combat. They were both looking at him like they had never seen him before, but that was a lie for everyone involved. The hand curled in his shirt. 

All Might snarled at him like he was a villain, like he was someone who must be punished. Like he had just killed someone in front of him. 

The hero started toward him, blazing blue eyes. His father rushed to stop him. 

“Izuku.” Shouto whispered in his ear, slowly growing more frantic. “Izuku, teleport us. Izuku, Izuku, teleport us, now!” 

He did as he was told, not caring where they ended up as long as it wasn’t here. 

He sucked in a painful breath when they landed roughly. His clothes shifted with heavy fabric. Now wasn’t the time for this. They couldn’t afford to get in the way, to let All Might win. This was all his fault.

“What the...Todoroki?” Shouto stopped suddenly at his name. Something warm slipped between their palms. Izuku scrambled to his feet and pulled Shouto up as he turned toward the voice. 

Three wide-eyed, poorly disguised students blinked back at them. It took him a long time to place their faces and even longer to find their names.

“Yaoyorozu, Iida, Kirishima,” Shouto answered blankly. “What are...What are you doing here?”

“What are we– We’re here to rescue you! You and Bakugou!” Kirishima cried. Izuku gagged at his name. 

“I remember you.” Iida held out his arm, stopping the redhead in his tracks. He looked between Shouto and Izuku, then down at their joined, stained fingers. “You were in Hosu. You saved our lives.”

“I don’t understand.” Yaoyorozu said. She pressed a hand to her chest, wearily watching them. “Todoroki, who is that?”

“And why are you covered in blood?” Izuku stiffened.

He couldn’t answer. His thoughts were full of sludge, struggling to catch up with the sensations playing out before him. 

Hours might have stretched between the five of them. For some reason, the collection of teenagers seemed to fit. Izuku would have liked to get to know them better, once upon a time.

Shouto sighed eventually. “Listen–“

“Todoroki,” The girl interrupted quietly. “please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

Shouto frowned. After a brief pause, he spoke. “This wasn’t supposed to happen this way...I’d say I’m sorry, but I...I don’t regret what I’ve done.”

“Present Mic said that there must be someone–“ Iida started quietly. “I never said anything about Hosu.”

“What are you saying?” 

“Don’t tell me–“ The redhead snapped, rushing forward. “What the fuck?! Why’d you do it?!”

Shouto shook his head like he was talking to a child. “You wouldn’t understand–“

“Bullshit!” He shouted. “What the hell is wrong with you? What about your family? What about the class?”

“Where’s Bakugou?” Yaoyorozu asked. The look on her face said that she didn’t really want to know.

“You’re too late.” Shouto answered simply.

“What’d you do to him?!” Kirishima screamed. “What’d you do?!”

Shouto didn’t answer. He tilted his head back toward him. “Izuku, we should go.”

“You can’t just leave!” The redhead protested. “I won’t let you! Not after what you did!” The skin of his arm sharpened. In another time, Izuku would have wanted to ask questions about it. He would have wanted to sketch it on a notebook page. 

Right now, it was a battle to keep from vomiting on the pavement.

Kirishima swiped at Shouto, but he easily dodged. In a single movement, Shouto had encased his hardened arm and trapped his legs in ice. Kirishima struggled fruitlessly.

Shouto removed his hand from Kirishima’s frozen limb. His eyes darted toward the remaining two of his classmates emotionlessly.

“I don’t want to fight any of you, but I can and will if I have to.” Shouto promised simply. They exchanged glances, but neither of them moved. 

Shouto joined Izuku’s side. He ignored his former classmates and spoke to him softly. He touched his shoulder gently. “Let’s go, okay?” 

He nodded slowly. Izuku closed his fingers around Shouto’s wrist and finally, simply, they were gone. 

Chapter Text

“Izuku, take off your hoodie.” Shouto commanded. He sucked in a breath, still reeling from their escape.

He didn’t answer. 

Shouto pushed him into a deserted street and paused to look behind them. They hadn’t been followed, not that anyone could track his teleportation. Satisfied for this moment, he turned back toward Izuku.

His eyes had lost that sparkle as hesitant tears mixed with the splatters of blood across his face. His features were dangerously empty of emotion.

Shouto took a careful step closer to him. There were little dots of scarlet between their feet, dripping from his soaked-through hoodie. 

He simply held out his stained hand like he was going to reach forward, like what he did when Bakugou...

Bakugou just exploded. He just burst in a firework of blood and tissue and guts.

Shouto had been standing just behind Izuku, but he had been half-painted in Bakugou anyway. His skin suddenly felt itchy and he tugged off his blue shirt that had caught the most of his former classmate and threw it on the ground.

“Izuku.” He said more firmly. “Take off your hoodie.”

There was a buzzing in his head, it’d been present since he watched Bakugou explode. Since he died. 

Izuku didn’t answer, mesmerized with the blood dripping from his fingers. A chunk of something Shouto didn’t want to identify slid down his cheek with renewed tears. His breath came out in short gasps.

“Izuku–“

Everything visibly flooded into him like a tidal wave. Izuku drowned in his sobs, shaking violently. 

“O-Oh, he’s dead.” Izuku choked. He dropped to his knees. “H-He’s dead, he’s dead, I-I–“

His voice faded into hyperventilation as he dry-heaved. Izuku dug his dirty fingernails into the concrete frantically. 

Shouto stepped backwards nervously, unsure how to react to this sudden shift. Last time he reacted like this, he had taken every quirk within twenty meters of him. Shouto stole a glance back at the street. This block had been evacuated already, but that didn’t mean a hero wouldn’t stumble upon them. 

Shouto wanted to sink to his knees and take him in his arms and tell him that it was all going to be okay, but Izuku was covered in someone’s blood. 

He killed someone, right in front of him.

There were wanted murderers in the League, some of them didn’t even attempt to hide it, but for some reason this realization was scarier than any of them. 

Izuku wasn’t a murderer. He wasn’t a villain, not like them, not like his father.

Shouto’s hand shook as he debated on whether he should touch him or not. He was going to pass out if he kept up like this. He was going to hurt himself, or someone else. 

They still needed to get further from the fight. He could still hear it echoing in the distance. Izuku couldn’t teleport, not the way he usually could, as evident by how he dropped them right next to his classmates that he should have been able to sense.

Shouto slowly kneeled before him, carefully placing a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. The other flinched violently. “Izuku,” He started, but nothing came after.

He couldn’t think of a single thing to say. 

This was the first person who extended a kind hand to him, the first to see him beyond his quirk. He loved him and now he couldn’t even say anything.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I’m s-so sorry–“ He hiccuped, repeating the apology over and over again hysterically. Shouto wasn’t sure who it was for.

He sighed shakily. With another look over his shoulder, he moved toward him gradually. He managed to wrap his arms around his shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. 

Izuku shattered. He collapsed in his arms and rubbed his face in the crook of his neck, staining the unscarred skin red. Shouto released a breath, tilting his head up at the sky. 

Debris and dust kicked up from the fight clouded the sky. The force of their blows rocked these buildings, reminding him of the very real threat growing ever closer if they didn’t leave. 

Between the clouds, he could make out the brightest of stars. Instantly, they reminded him of Izuku, the freckles scattered across his skin, hidden under a shade of red.

Maybe something was wrong for him for feeling like this. He should run. He should leave him and the League while he could still get out. Yet, he wanted this. He wanted Izuku in his arms, he wanted to be the only person who got to comfort him like this. 

He couldn’t just ignore what happened. They’d have to talk about it once he calmed down some. Shouto exhaled weakly, resting his cheek against Izuku’s grimy hair. 

He shut his eyes for a moment and let himself pretend they were somewhere else entirely and that the last several hours never happened at all.

Shouto counted to fifty once Izuku’s sobs had faded into something slightly closer to regular crying before he released him. He grabbed his discarded blue shirt and used it to wipe off his face until his skin was raw and resembled a shade closer to his scar.

Then, he returned to Izuku with what he hoped was a gentle expression. He managed to get him to sit up and helped him him remove his damp hoodie before wiping off his face too. It was a dark enough color that red stains blended into a muddy brown and covered enough that he might not have known it didn’t originally come in that color. 

Shouto frowned at the pattern of the splatter for a moment, while Izuku attempted to count in a whisper. He touched a lighter brown patch, surprised to find it dry. There couldn’t have been time for any of it to dry so that meant...this was from someone else.

“I’m s–“ His voice cracked, startling Shouto from his inspection of the cloth. “I’m sorry.” Izuku croaked hoarsely. 

He glanced up at him and paused at his words. Again, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was apologizing for, or if he knew at all who was sitting in front of him anymore. 

“It’s okay.” Shouto answered simply. He shoved aside that twisted feeling that filled him.

He turned the hoodie inside out so that the iconic ears wouldn’t be visible and it’d be slightly less stained, then he pulled it on. Izuku didn’t speak. He simply stared at him. He slipped back into that blank state he started in. 

Shouto offered his hand to him. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

Izuku didn’t answer again. His eyes were dully trained on the pavement, but he eventually nodded his agreement and took his outstretched hand.

As he helped him stand, he continued. “We should head toward the evacuation area downtown to get back to your apartment. The fight’s been getting closer, so evacuations will be heading that way.” With that, he led Izuku out into the street. Their fingers linked together as they rushed from the scene of the crime. 

It took a few more blocks before they reached anyone. It wasn’t a hero he recognized that directed the civilian group they joined toward the main city, but that was probably a good thing. He was hyper aware of everything around them as they were sandwiched between the evacuees. 

The buzzing in his head hadn’t faded any. It was nearly nauseating, making it hard to keep his temperature stable. His stomach churned, but that could be unrelated.

With Izuku in this mystic state, he had no idea what might set him off again. He didn’t seem to have a good grip on his quirk either. That tugging sensation of his quirk kept making itself known in the back of Shouto’s mind, but it never quite grew strong enough to take his quirk completely. His breathing was uneven, wobbly as he stared at their moving feet.

He prayed silently that they made it at least to the train station. If they could only get out of the city, then they’d be okay. They could lay low until there was an opportunity to meet up with the rest of the League or Izuku‘s family.

It was going to be okay. 

Shouto wasn’t going to let anything happen to him.

Eventually, the crowd grew thicker in the ever-flowing inner city streets. There were enough people here that the hero vanished, barking directions toward the evacuation zones before doubling back toward the fight.

“This way’s the train station, they’re probably running outside of the city.” He spoke to Izuku quietly. Shouto released a breath, tugging the cloth further down over his head. He tried to tug Izuku along again, but the other was frozen in place. “Izuku?”

He was staring up at the billboard screen plastered upon one of the high-rise buildings. For the first time since the battle, his eyes were focused, mesmerized by the playing images.

Shouto turned toward the screen. It was a live broadcast of the fight. Captions of the audio scrolled across the bottom of the video, while the frantic voices of the different channel newscasters echoed in his ears. 

All Might was on every screen. Shouto twisted his head, gazing over the crowds of people holding their breaths. 

“...finally gotten a clear image of All Might! A whole block of Kamino Ward has been destroyed during the hero’s fight with the League of Villains–“

Half of the hero’s face had sunken in, split between his skinny form and the bulking build of the rest of his body. His hair was mangled, frayed around his  face. Shouto winced at the obvious wounds soaking his costume. His muscles flexed while he struggled to stand up straight.

“Where’s Dad?” Izuku spoke quietly. He stared up at the screen in muted fear, eyes darting across the screen as the battlefield appeared through hazy focus.

“I’m...sure he’s fine.” Shouto attempted to comfort him. 

Izuku shook his head. “This is wrong. Something’s wrong.”

“–the hero doesn’t seem able to move, none of the villains have been spotted yet, it’s possible they evacuated–“ The newscaster continued frantically. “Wait! Something’s happening!”

The camera jerked away from All Might. Shouto furrowed his eyebrows as the scene wobbled, reminiscent of a video he first saw alone in a library. 

“Tomura.” Izuku gasped. His fingers tightened around Shouto’s. “W-What’s wrong with him?”

He squinted up at the scene, finally making out the trembling shape of the villain. He was in the middle of a crater on his hands and knees, spitting up something onto the broken concrete. Like Izuku said, Shouto couldn’t find All for One anywhere. A woman beside them covered her son’s eyes, although she didn’t tear her gaze from the massive screen. 

Suddenly, the ground around Tomura rippled and burst. Particles floated into the air. Shouto flinched backwards, like the destruction might be able to touch them through the screen. 

It looked like what he knew to be his quirk, but Shouto had never seen it used on such a large space. He didn’t honestly know much about Tomura, beyond what Izuku told him and the limited interactions they had together. 

That sinking feeling of unease, combined in Izuku’s muttering, screamed at him. This was wrong in a way he couldn’t name.

The destruction surged outward from Tomura’s hunched form as he vomited onto the ground. More and more of his surroundings collapsed into dust. 

The crowd rippled around them with fearful whispers. Some of them looked behind themselves toward the direction of the fight, like they were afraid Tomura’s quirk might reach them here. “–appears that the leader of the League of Villains’ quirk is out of control, something’s happened to him and All Might is still trapped somehow–“

“Forced Quirk Activation.” Izuku whispered. 

“What?” He jerked his head from the screen. “What do you mean?”

“A quirk my dad has...t-that’s not Tomura, he’s not doing that. His body can’t handle it, he’d never be able to stay conscious un–unless...someone else was pulling the strings.” He spoke in a hushed tone, words spilling out of him in muted disbelief. “No, no, this is all wrong.”

“It’s getting closer to All Might, wait–” The camera panned back to him, unaware of the quirk’s effects behind him. Steam rose from his torn, strained skin, thinly stretched over bone. “Something’s happened to All Might!”

”His time is up.” Izuku breathed. He was lost somewhere far away from here. 

The look on the hero’s face was filled with such unbridled horror and rage, a shiver ran down Shouto’s spine. He was distracted with something in front of him that remained hidden from the camera. 

The blond hero screamed in his agony. Shouto wanted to know what All for One did, what he said to get that kind of reaction from the unbreakable symbol of peace. 

It all happened faster than Shouto expected. The news cameras switched between All Might and Tomura so fast that Shouto felt sick. His body trembled. The only reason he was still standing was because Izuku had turned into a solid statue beside him, completely frozen as he watched the screens. 

An old man dressed in white and yellow turned to dust right before their eyes. The elderly civilian in front of them cried out in a sob as the old hero’s ashes burst into the air, mixing with ground concrete and iron. 

Then it was all around All Might. The hero shouted inaudible fury as the heels of his shoes disintegrated. He finally noticed the crumbling ground, but there was no hope left in his ruined body.

His blue eyes were dim as his body dissolved. First it was his hero costume, then skin that revealed the thin ropes of muscle still clinging to his bones. Finally, the bones were ripped into little white pieces that rained over the battlefield. 

It reminded Shouto of snow.

He held his breath. Everyone did. The newscaster was finally silent. The assembled people surrounding him didn’t speak. The little boy in the arms of his mother beside him sniffled.

All Might floated into the summer sky, fading until he just blended into the distant stars. There was a flash of a man with white hair. 

The symbol of peace had fallen. 

His death felt anticlimactic. 

It should have been a show of glittering quirks, of stunning lightning and power. Instead, the unbreakable hero had been broken and torn into tiny pieces and just like that, he was gone, too.

”W-Wait a minute,” The anchor’s voice echoed through the silent street. “there’s some students over there. Yuuei students, can I get some names...y-yes, over to the left, there–“

The camera slid toward the furthest edge of the destroyed battlefield, as Tomura’s quirk continued to demolish everything in its path. Tomura hadn’t stopped. He didn’t even seem to understand what he had done. He barely looked conscious, blood dripping from his nose and cracking skin and looking between his hands pressed to the ground.

The remaining wall there had decayed, revealing three teenagers to the world.

Shouto’s breath hitched. He didn’t need to hear their names, announced for everyone to hear. He could see the whites of their eyes displayed through the screen’s pixels. Kirishima was still half frozen in his ice, but the other two didn’t move either as Tomura’s quirk grew closer.

The camera zoomed into the students. Yaoyorozu ducked her head and shut her eyes. Iida took joined their hands. They all braced themselves for the same end that All Might had just met.

The rest of the wall collapsed, falling into itself in the form of fine dust. It crept closer to them rapidly. The slab beneath Iida’s shoe shattered.

Then it stopped. 

Kirishima opened his eyes, gasping inaudibly. He said something, gripping the others’ hands to alert them. 

“There’s someone else on the field now that stopped the League of Villains, a man–“ The newscaster continued in astonishment.

The screen turned back to the main battleground where All for One had finally made himself known. He stood in the center of Tomura’s creator, untouched by the dust of concrete and the stains of blood.

He stood before with an emotionless expression. He made no effort to help him, but Tomura’s quirk has stopped somehow. The younger villain wheezed, trembling as he spoke to his master.

All for One didn’t answer him. The villain crashed to the ground in a heap of limbs and destruction. His body seized, writhing around in the aftermath of his own quirk.

“What the hell is he doing?” Shouto watched in disbelief. “Why would he...”

He was protecting the students, the ones whose lives he had threatened countless times before. Not only that, it appeared that Tomura was suffering somehow. There was some quirk that made him collapse like that. His head slammed into the broken edge of concrete crater a few times, drool mixing into blood as it foamed from the edge of his mouth.

He scratched furiously at his throat. The hand on his face had been discarded somewhere a long time ago. It left his fearful expression on full display, ash-blue hair and blood stained eyes as he stared up at All for One. 

There was almost a pleading edge to his gaze, but the man did not move. He did not help him. He simply stepped over him as Tomura let out a single straining gasp before falling forever silence.

Unseeing eyes stared at the camera. 

“He was the scapegoat.” Izuku breathed. His fingertips dug into Shouto’s knuckles. “Oh...m-my– The League– They were someone to b-blame. This-s whole time-“

“I don’t understand.” 

Izuku let out a choked noise. He muttered to himself and his head dropped from the screen. “It was never about t-the League. They-y- He was only an pawn, someone to blame this all on so that he could come out on top.” 

Someone cleared their throat, distracting the two of them from Izuku’s realization. At first, Shouto thought it was someone else in the crowd, but when he lifted his head back to the screen, he knew it wasn’t anyone beside them.

A small, silver speaker had appeared in All for One’s throat. His voice rippled through the speakers, loud enough to reach the news equipment easily. Instead, Shouto felt his voice echoing in his head. The buzzing burned through his skull. “There’s no reason to hide over there. No more lives will be lost tonight.”

The students stared back at All for One with mixed emotions. Yaoyorozu was unable to tear her wide eyes from Tomura. Iida hesitantly moved to take a step forward, but Kirishima gripped his arm and shook his head slowly.

“I’m sure you’re all confused.” Izuku’s father continued. “You’re so wrapped up in this game of heroes and villains and symbols, you don’t know what’s actually going on. Our Symbol of Peace is dead and the League of Villains has been destroyed, isn’t that a perfect conclusion?”

He smiled warmly. It reminded Shouto of Izuku. 

“It’s time we move on from this game, isn’t it? These heroes pretend to be society’s guardians, but they don’t care about you.” All for One sighed longingly. “Those reckless villains only take more lives, destroy more of your cities and homes and they don’t care who gets in their way. I don’t want to see anymore loss.”

The man finally crossed enough ground to reach the three students. He held out his hand to Yaoyorozu, who had fallen to her knees. 

“Haven’t you been wronged by this world set up for you? You never belonged at Yuuei, you know that, don’t you? The only reason you’re here tonight is because you feel you must constantly prove yourself to people who never wanted you in first place.” She swallowed nervously, surprise and hurt flashing in her eyes. “You’re so young, but you’ve already seen so much.”

The dark-haired girl hesitated. Slowly, she took his hand and he helped her to her feet. Yaoyorozu stepped back away from him once she was standing, head turned away from the man in guilt.

All for One’s attention darted to Iida. “And then you nearly lost a brother, right? Then, when you tried to do something, because the rest of the world thought it was best to stick him in a wheelchair and be done with him, you were punished for trying to avenge him. You’re out here all alone, still fighting when no one else will. Aren’t you tired?”

“The end for heroes and villains has come.” He lifted his head toward the camera, turning to address each of them. “I’m tired of watching children fight, seeing liars and cheats on pedestals while we all lie in the shadows. This is the beginning, our beginning,” The man smiled wider. “and to those out there who insist on staying in the past, I only have a promise for you...”

“Heroes and villains, those are the words everyone knows, but they’re still words.” Izuku quoted softly. “That’s what you said.”

Shouto tore his attention from the screen. “What?” He whispered.

There were tears in his eyes. “It’s about the story he tells...All for One died years ago, t-this isn’t just the end of heroes, it’s his new beginning.” Izuku returned. “It’s everything he’s ever wanted.” 

“...you’re next.”

Chapter Text

Izuku couldn’t sleep.

When he shut his eyes, all he saw were their faces. The light stolen from their eyes, before it was even over. When he saw his reflection in the mirror, the screen of the TV, the glasses and cutlery in his kitchen, he was still stained red.

His home was claustrophobic. There were more people here now than Izuku could remember there ever being. They filled every corner, all the space so that no room was left for him to breathe. 

The remaining League members were stretched across futons, cross-crossing the halls, the living and dining rooms. It was a maze of limbs, stepping over hands and legs and knives, in Toga’s case, to make it to the kitchen.

Izuku’s hair was still damp from the shower where he scrubbed all the misery from his skin. The tiles had been stained a watery pink once he was finished. Then, once he was clean, he had sobbed until Dabi knocked harshly on the door and told him to hurry up.

Dad was still missing. He told them he’d lie low until it was clear to come home. Izuku didn’t know where he was. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He opened the cabinet and found a glass. It was heavy, weighting down his hand until he placed it in the sink and allowed the water to fill it. Izuku stared at the water, mesmerized by refraction of the late night lights and his drowning face.

There had been helicopters flying around their building for hours. They never stayed for very long, unaware of who was here, right under their noses. Sirens slipped around them, slipping further and further into the night. Sometimes the ceiling of his room was colored in reds and blues.

Izuku blinked back into consciousness. He found himself gripping the sink’s edge painfully, body shaking. He released a trembling breath.

The glass was overflowing. He leaned forward and turned off the faucet. 

People change.

That’s what Mom told him, when he used to ask why she fell in love with a villain. When Izuku was told the simple story of his quirk, of all the reasons why he couldn’t ever show it to anyone like all the other kids at school did, he didn’t bat an eye.

Maybe Dad did bad things in the past, but things were different now. He didn’t do those things anymore.

Izuku didn’t ever think about not listening. Even when it hurt, when they called him names, when he became littered with burns and bruises and had enough scars at the age of seven that adults used to stop him in the street and ask whether everything was okay at home, he never hesitated. Protecting Dad was never a question. 

All he ever wanted was to protect someone.

This League of Villains thing was a silly name that Tomura thought up. They weren’t actually villains. They were going to change the world.

People change.

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to stop more tears from escaping. His mother already made a comment about him being dehydrated. He counted in a whisper to himself and then gulped down a quarter of the glass’s water.

He forced himself to stop and catch his breath again, leaning over the sink in case he couldn’t stomach it. A chill ran down his spine and he shivered.

For a second, he thought it was just his imagination. His head was all over the place. It didn’t feel like too much of a stretch. 

Yet, when he opened his eyes, his breath escaped him in puffs of frost. Izuku crossed his eyes and peered down the edge of his nose. Unless someone touched the thermostat, that made no sense. It was the middle of the summer.

He left his half empty glass beside the sink and turned toward the rest of the room. The remaining League members were curled underneath blankets, limbs pulled in close to them. Izuku watched Toga for a second until he saw her slow breaths visible in the air.

In search of a distraction from his racing thoughts, he weaved between the bodies and found the thermostat in the hallway. It hadn’t been touched, but there was frost forming on the glass over the numbers. The heater clicked on automatically in an attempt to combat the sudden cold. He tapped it with a silent finger curiously.

Izuku stopped in the hallway’s edge, scanning the people scattered around his living room.

There were too many missing.

He finally paused on Shouto, curled in on himself in the furthest corner of the room.

Cold...he was shivering.

It was easier to reach him this time. All his obstacles had reformed in little shapes of blankets and heads. He stepped over Dabi’s legs, thinly covered by a sheet. Despite the drop in temperature, heat still radiated from the fire user.

Izuku kneeled beside Shouto. Crimson strands of hair stuck to his forehead, while ice had spread across his right cheek. Shouto never mentioned having trouble controlling his quirk while he slept. He wondered if this was common.

That didn’t seem right, though. His eyebrows were knitted together. The air around him fluctuated between sharp degrees of hot and cold. His expression was pained and his breath came out in uneven pants.

Izuku leaned forward and touched a careful hand to his arm, but ripped away quickly. He sucked in a silent hiss and inspected the pink burns on his palm. One of the forgotten regeneration quirks burst to life, working despite Izuku’s exhaustion to fix the little mistake.

By the time Shouto shifted again, the burn was gone.

He glanced back at him worriedly. Clearly he was having some kind of nightmare. Izuku wanted to wake him up, but he could barely stand kneeling this close to him. He held his hand above him and shut his eyes in an attempt to pull his quirk away before someone else got hurt. He flexed his fingers.

Izuku’s eyes snapped open with a exhale.

He couldn’t do it.

The teenager tried to use what he remembered of Shouto’s quirk, but he couldn’t. There wasn’t anything there. The frost didn’t diminish on Shouto’s face. Izuku tried to take it again. He pressed his fingers to his freezing skin and pulled and waited and tugged and waited–

His quirk wasn’t working. He couldn’t take Shouto’s quirk.

Izuku let out a shuttering gasp. He tried to keep the whimper in his throat.

Without thinking, he took Shouto‘s shoulders and shook him. “S-Shouto...Shouto, wa...wake up.” Izuku whispered frantically.

This didn’t make any sense. He could feel the others’ quirks. Dabi’s called to him, burning in the back of his mind like he knew Shouto’s liked to do. Toga’s was mystic and twisted; it slithered around his senses like a charcoal viper. Twice’s jumped around like the hyper man himself; unable to differentiate between the quirk and the man. If he could feel all that, take them all in a heartbeat, why not Shouto’s?

The other teenagers snapped into consciousness. He jerked up so sudden he nearly slammed his head into Izuku’s. “-h-how...Izuku?” Shouto heaved like he belonged on a finish line. 

He pushed aside his own worry instantly as he caught Shouto’s gaze. His eyes were hazy, drowning in a sea of emotion. He hadn’t ever seen him react like this before. 

“Are you okay?” Izuku asked quietly. He touched his arm again, biting his lip as he was reminded of the burn, but his quirk had regulated enough that it didn’t hurt.

Shouto looked sick to his stomach. Even in the dark midnight of the living room, Izuku could make out the dullness of his complexion. His fingers dug into Izuku’s skin, holding onto him like it was all he knew how to do. 

He swallowed roughly before he spoke, deathly quiet. “H–How...how, how did I get here?” 

Izuku blinked at him in confusion. “The trains, don’t you remember? You got us home, that was you.” He honestly didn’t remember much of the trip home. He was too busy trying to keep himself from collapsing again after everything that he saw.

Everything he did.

Shouto didn’t seem to understand his answer. His face fell, fingers trembling. Before Izuku could try to reassure him anymore, Shouto collapsed in his arms. His breathing was ragged, body broken.

Izuku tugged him closer, rubbing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He didn’t cry, not like Izuku did, but something was clearly very wrong. He stole a glance at the closest League member to Shouto’s futon.

He could have sworn he saw blue eyes snap shut as he looked at Dabi. Izuku chewed on his lip as he debated. The other fire user didn’t move, chest falling evenly.

From this angle, his dark hair only looked like shadows seeping into his pillowcase. The curve of his jaw, pale eyelashes that didn’t seem to match the jet black shade of his hair...

“Hey,” Izuku murmured into Shouto’s ear. “let’s go to my room, Shou.”

It took another minute to tug him to his feet and guide him down the hall. Izuku followed Shouto in his room, watching his behavior carefully. He only turned away to shut his door behind him quietly in an attempt to not wake anyone still sleeping.

“There was a man...his eyes were the same color as yours.” 

Izuku looked back at Shouto as he spoke. The other had stopped in the center of the room. He just stood there, facing away from him. Izuku could tell by his tone he was still stuck in his own head. 

“What do you mean?” He took a nervous step toward him. 

His quirk was still felt absent, even though Izuku could sense Rewind through the wall where Eri slept.

Shouto’s head tilted slightly. His eyes focused across the room, somewhere near the unsorted stack of boxes left from the move. 

“The man.” Shouto whispered. “He said this was a mistake.” 

Izuku waited for him to continue, but he never did. 

It was early the next morning when he woke again. The freezing half of Shouto was tangled in the thickest parts of the blankets, chilling Izuku’s skin where they touched. 

Izuku blinked a few times as consciousness had its way with him. Then, he threw himself away from the other boy with a heated face. He hadn’t thought anything of the offer last night, but this suddenly felt embarrassing. Izuku buried his face in his hands to keep himself from muttering and waking him. 

Voices drifted through his door. There was some quirk he could use if he really wanted to hear the words they said, but he didn’t. For a moment he just waited, listening without really listening. 

When he recovered, precariously perched on the furthest corner of his bed, his eyes wandered back to Shouto. 

The nightmare from last night didn’t look like it had made a reappearance yet, as he was fast asleep and seemed to be keeping his quirk under better control. He didn’t shift. His soft snores filled the quiet room, silly and enduring. Izuku chewed his lip as he debated for a moment. 

Fleetingly, he reached out and touched Shouto’s hair. It was silky between his fingers. Again, he shut his eyes and tried to take his quirk. 

Nothing. He still couldn’t do it. 

Izuku frowned. He pulled away from Shouto and tried his best to not rustle the bed when he stood. The teenager slipped out of his room in the direction of the voices in his home. As he grew nearer, he could feel their quirks. 

They were all over the place. They felt like they were right there for him to take if he wanted to. 

He paused by the kitchen counter before anyone noticed his presence. His parents were absent, but most of the League appeared to be awake. 

Eri was sitting on the couch, infatuated with whatever was playing on TV, while Toga leaned over her and brushed her hair. Magne was on the floor in front of them. Twice, Spinner, and Mr. Compress were at the dining table, arguing over something Izuku didn’t care to find out. 

There was something burning on the stove where Dabi was ignoring it and looking at a phone. Izuku didn’t know who it belonged to. Kuroguri took up another space in the kitchen, attempting to make up for the fire user’s ignorance.

Dabi was the closest to him. His quirk simmered and sizzled, overflowing in a way that was too much for even the person it belonged to. Izuku took a step closer.

Before he knew it, his hand had closed around his burnt wrist. Dabi wheezed and jerked away from him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Izuku blinked at him dumbly. He stared at his empty hand and reached for Dabi’s quirk. Blue flames floated between his fingers. It wasn’t quite like Shouto’s quirk. It stung his skin. If he used it any more that, it’d probably hurt. 

This didn’t make any sense.

He met Dabi’s furious glare, touched him again to return his quirk, and opened his mouth. “We need to talk.” He commanded the villain.

Dabi didn’t seem interested, but Izuku tightened his grip on his wrist and tugged him out of the room. He shoved him into his father’s office and shut the door behind himself.

“Are you always this weird in the morning or did your dumbass friend fuck you up?” The dark-haired man raised his eyebrow. 

Izuku glared at him. He was just poking at him, trying to throw him off. Dabi was like Tomura, he liked to push people’s buttons. He didn’t need to think about that...about them. 

It already kept him up tossing and turning all night.

“Why is your quirk is like Shouto’s?” He asked instead.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dabi shrugged.

“Your quirk is like his, I can tell, but it’s not exactly– well, it’s more than just being elemental emitter quirks.” Izuku started to pace. “Something’s wrong with Shouto’s quirk, at first I thought it was me, but I don’t think it is. His quirk’s clearly tied to his emotions, so maybe it’s stress, I don’t know, I thought you might.”

“Why the hell would I help him?” 

“So you do know something?” Izuku pressed.

Dabi scoffed. “No, I’m just asking why in the world you think I’d help the golden child. I don’t owe him anything, hell– I should’ve killed him when I had the chance!”

“You never did have the chance.” He scowled, recalling their first encounter in the bar. “I wouldn’t have let you.”

“That’s not what I– Nevermind.” The villain shook his head. “I don’t care about what’s wrong with him.”

Izuku paused. “Wait, what? You’ve had an opportunity to kill him before? When?”

“That’s not what I–“

“Did you meet him before the League?” He continued. “If you knew him before, then why wouldn’t he say anything? Is that why you don’t like his father?”

Dabi suddenly stepped forward with a furious expression. Smoke rose from where staples kept his skin intact. He bared his teeth at him. “Endeavor deserves to rot in hell for everything he put his family through and Shouto isn’t any fucking better, the only he’s still breathing right now is because people keep protecting him for some fucking reason.”

“W-Wait–“ Izuku’s eyes grew wide. “How would you know anything about Endeavor’s family?”

The barest hint of some kind of mistake flashed across his face. He backed away. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does! Shouto’s been trying to find evidence to expose his father, if you could help–“ He started.

“Oh, bullshit! Why the hell would he want to expose him? Shouto’s been handed everything on a silver platter!” Dabi answered viciously. “He was born with the perfect quirk, he’s everything Father ever wanted! He’s the reason he threw the rest of us aside!”

Izuku stiffened as the fire user raised his voice. No doubt the others could hear the yelling, he only hoped it didn’t wake Shouto. He deserved to sleep.

There was a moment of pause as they both recalled what he said. Then it clicked.

“You said...us.” He paused slowly as the pieces fell into place. “Shouto said that his father neglected the rest of his siblings, because his training and you said Father, not Endeavor. Why would–“

“I didn’t–“ Dabi tried.

Izuku interrupted him. “Shouto said he used to have another brother who died because of his quirk. He didn’t remember him, he wouldn’t be able to recognize him even if he saw him, he thinks he’s dead– Your quirk is like Shouto’s, but it hurts you, you can’t handle it.”

“Don’t tell me I can’t handle my own quirk!”

“It’s written all over your skin.” Izuku retorted. “I could feel it when I used it. But that’s not the point! It’s you, isn’t it?”

Dabi shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You.” He took a step forward. “You’re the dead brother.”

“That’s insane.” The fire user snapped. “Your little blond friend really fucked with your head.”

Izuku involuntarily flinched at the retort, but forced himself to push it aside. He was getting defense, it was only an effort to distract him. “It makes sense. Why you hate Shouto and Endeavor so much, your quirk, your motive, how you know about what he did. You lived it.”

Dabi leaned forward and pointed a finger at him. “I swear, if you tell anyone about this, I’ll–“

“What?” Izuku quipped. “You’d never win in a fight, you know. Besides, Shouto deserves to know.”

“He doesn’t deserve anything.”

“He wants the same thing as you. He’s been fighting for it.” He protested. “He’s been working to try and find evidence of everything to expose him, evidence of your death!”

“That makes no fucking sense.” Dabi retorted. “Just kill the old bastard, don’t waste your time doing the right thing or whatever.”

“Death is an out. It won’t make him pay, it won’t make him see all the pain he caused.” Izuku argued. The fire user rolled his eyes like he was dealing with an extra annoying child. “Hasn’t he taken enough from you?”

Dabi gave him a bewildered look. “What?”

“He took your family, your mother, your siblings, he’s made you hate your own brother. He took your life, your future.” Izuku continued. “Don’t you want some of it back? You and Shouto could do it together and you could do it so that no one like your father ever exists again, but if you just kill him then that’s it. He will be remembered as a hero and you’ll just be his murderer.”

He stared at Izuku for a moment before he answered. “I don’t think you’re really in any position to lecture me about being the better man. You’ve still got your friend’s blood in your hair.”

The teenager flinched. His hand darted up to his messy curls in panic as that unnerving feeling crawled up his spine. Dabi smirked and shoved past him before he could recover. The office door slammed behind the villain.

He was glad the news wasn’t on. Izuku knew he wasn’t ready to see what the world was saying about last night. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing the ones who weren’t here anymore. 

Kuroguri was finished with breakfast when he finally forced himself out of the office again. The lingering League members were scattered around the room. Izuku ended up finding a spot beside Eri on the couch. 

He lost himself in the girls’ conversation, the chattering of the children’s program on the screen, and the way the food he forced himself to eat tasted like cardboard. 

When he was trying to finish the final, untouched egg in his bowl, he felt it.

An uncountable amount of quirks drifting closer to him in the form of a single person. Izuku jerked his head up in surprise and narrowed his eyes as he found his father.

The man was dressed in a white-button up and dark slacks. It couldn’t be the same thing he wore last night. They were freshly washed and ironed. Izuku could barely remember him wearing anything else.

His grip on his bowl tightened. A shaky breath left him. He had been waiting for him to come back. Izuku needed him to make sense of what happened last night, but now that he was here, he realized he hadn’t even thought about what he was going to say. 

“Izu-kun?” He forced his eyes from his father. Eri peered at him inquisitively. Her hairstyle mimicked Toga’s, but it was too long and thick to be as messy as the other girl’s. “What’s wrong?”

He wondered how Eri would react if she knew about the quirks he held, if it would make sense to her if she saw what he had done. He didn’t want to imagine her expression if she had seen the news last night, or if she had woke up when they stumbled into the apartment last night, covered in other people’s blood.

Izuku didn’t answer her. He set his bowl on the short table beside the couch and stood against his will. His feet carried him forward until he blinked and he was in the kitchen.

“Dad.” His father looked away from the conversation he had begun with Kuroguri.

“Oh, Izuku, I didn’t realize you were up already–“

“Why...W-Why did you kill him?” He blurted out. 

His fingernails dug into his palms in an attempt to feel something besides this hollowing anger. Dad’s eyes widened slightly, for a single second before he was impassive again.

“All Might was always going to die. I thought you knew that.” He spoke calmly, like he was dealing with a child.

Izuku’s jaw tightened. “No, no, you know that’s not who I’m talking about!” He exclaimed.

Spinner glanced at him and nudged Twice. Kuroguri seemed fascinated with the dishes, but Izuku knew his interest had been peaked. None of them would ask this. None of them would dare.

“Let’s not talk about this now.” Dad returned.

He shook his head frantically. “N-No, you can’t just ignore it! I can’t just ignore it– you don’t get to do that. You can’t make me do that!“

“Izu–“

“Because when you say, let’s not talk about it, you’re never going to talk about! And I’m the one who’s got to deal it–“ He sucked in a breath as the words fell out of his mouth.

“Izuku–“

“That’s not what was supposed to happen, it’s not what you said would happen and–“ Hands gripped his shoulders, cutting him off. Izuku looked up at his father, momentarily startled by his expression.

Dad didn’t look at him like that.

“This isn’t the place.” His father did not leave any room for argument. 

Then that bitter taste appeared in his mouth. Izuku didn’t have time to think before his kitchen vanished around him and suddenly it was bright and warm. He squinted in the sunlight, coughing up the remains of the summoning quirk. Puffy clouds covered the sky overhead.

It didn’t look any different than it usually did. It could have been any other day.

“Where are we?” Izuku panted, stumbling away from his father. “Where did you take us?”

“It’s just the roof of the building.” Dad sighed. “Clearly you aren’t going to leave it alone, so I decided this would be better scenery.”

“Of course I won’t leave it alone!” He cried. “You– Y-You killed Tomura! You knew his quirk couldn’t handle it, but you forced him–“

“Izuku, take a breath.” His father dug through his pockets until he found one of the little tissue packets he carried around for Mom. “Here.”

He ripped it out of his hand and furiously rubbed at his face. “Don’t lie to me about it, I know it was you, I-I know it–“ 

Dad shook his head with a sigh. “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything to you. You would have never understood.”

“Understood?! What is there to understand?!”

“I did that for you, for your mother and Eri.”

His gaze narrowed up at his father. “Don’t say that was for us! I know it wasn’t– All this, everything, it’s all you’ve ever wanted. I’m just now seeing it!”

“Izuku.” Dad interrupted firmly. “Everything I do is for this family. You might not see that or understand that, but it is the truth. I am sorry you don’t get why I did that. I am sorry that you don’t believe me, but it is the truth.”

He sniffled miserably and covered his face with his hands. He didn’t want that truth. He didn’t want Tomura’s blood on his hands too, or All Might or the little old man. He couldn’t bare that truth. 

It sounded better if Dad was just the man he used to be. If he was the horror story that brought that woman to tears, if he was the villain that he was supposed to be, if he was just selfish and power hungry, then it wasn’t Izuku’s fault. 

But that hurt, too.

He heard him sigh. A hand touched his head, tugging him closer. Izuku wanted to fight him, but he didn’t have the energy. He sobbed into the white dress shirt, the one that looked like all the others.

“I know you’re upset.” His father said gently, petting his hair in an attempt to sooth him. It was just like when he used to come home from school with tears in his eyes. “A lot has happened to you. I...saw what happened with Katsuki. I’m sure that was hard for you. The first one is always the hardest–“

“He– H-He wasn’t first.” Izuku admitted in a whisper. His fingers stiffened as he recalled the forest. The act that only had truth in him and that boy. 

His father pulled away with furrowed eyebrows. He inspected Izuku for a moment before he asked. “Then who was?”

“Muscular.” He sniffled. “He...He was going to kill a boy at the summer camp. Kouta.” 

It was an accident. They were all accidents.

“But you told us it was a hero–“ 

“I lied.”

His father frowned and continued. “Nevertheless, this will pass. It all will. Things will get better, you know that. Eventually their faces will all blur together and you won’t even think about it anymore.”

Izuku’s head jerked up. “W-What? What makes you think I want that?”

His sudden reaction clearly startled Dad and he paused carefully before he answered. “Right now you’re upset–“

“Of course, I’m upset! They were people– living, breathing people a-and they had lives and feelings and desires! We might not have agreed, b-but they were still human and they were real and alive and...a-and I took that from them.” Izuku gasped. “I took that away and I didn’t have the right to.”

“You were protecting yourself and others.” His father argued rationally. “You had the power to do so.” 

“But that doesn’t make it right!” Izuku exclaimed desperately. “I don’t want the faces to blur together, I don’t want to ever forget how this feels!”

Dad sighed. “Izuku...”

“I don’t!” He sniffled as the tears returned in full force. “I don’t want to forget...I can’t...I can’t.”

Chapter Text

Shouto woke to the smell of something burning. He forced himself up, arms raised and ice quirk activated in an attempt to protect himself from whatever was his father had ruined now. 

Then, with a pause and a single glance at his surroundings, the memories flooded back to him. His father wasn’t here. Whatever was burning was in the other room, drifting in from the kitchen. It was probably the result of the rest of the League attempting to cook some kind of breakfast. 

He fell back onto the bed unceremoniously and shut his eyes with a sigh. It calmed his thoughts, if only for a minute. He raised his head slightly and peered at the room.

Even though he hadn’t been here since they had moved, he knew this was Izuku’s bedroom. He was written on the walls, his name scattered among the papers on the desk and tucked between the notebooks on the shelves. Shouto noticed all the little details he wouldn’t care to know if he was anyone else. 

All his different composition books were lined up on the bookshelf. Their spines were frayed and charred by a dead boy’s quirk. Pictures of his family were pinned along the wall. There were notes forgotten across the desk, the floor and taped up on the wall beside the pictures. His gaze dipped lower.

The photo of Izuku and Bakugou as children had been moved to the messy desk across the room. Shouto slipped out from underneath the blankets and found himself drawn to it.

He took the frame in his hands again. The glass was cold underneath his fingertips.

The scene kept replaying in his mind. One minute, Bakugou had been there, screaming his head off. Then he was wasn’t and his face was warm with fresh flesh and blood. He remembered Izuku’s horrified face as he realized what he done. 

He killed him. There was no getting around that. Bakugou was dead now.

Shouto turned the photo face down and left it. 

Voices carried down the hallway. He wondered where Izuku had gone, since this was his room. He wanted to talk to him about yesterday. They should talk about it. 

He turned on his heel slowly and surveyed the rest of the messy room. Shouto paused on a few boxes that were stuffed in a corner of the bedroom. Something he couldn’t identify about them called to him.

The floorboards creaked under his weight. Noise found him from the other room, the sound of a meal being shared and a television talking nonsense. He kneeled beside one of the boxes.

Someone had written in black marker across the top of it. This box belonged to Hisashi’s office. Shouto didn’t know who that was.

He tore off the tape keeping it sealed. For a moment, it felt like someone else was controlling his movements. However, just as quickly, Shouto was back, unfolding the flaps of the box. He wanted to know what was inside. He wanted a name for whatever kept calling him to this corner of Izuku’s bedroom.

The box was filled with books. Old books, new books, ones who were torn at the edges and others that didn’t appear to have ever been opened. Shouto slipped his fingers over the covers curiously. 

He extracted one titled The Next Evolution: Quirks and turned it over in his hands. It was one of the heavily read ones, with sticky notes and creased corners marking the pages. He flipped open the cover, then got bored after only a few sentences. The notes were in a scribble he didn’t recognize. They couldn’t be Izuku’s. 

Shouto set it aside. 

He searched deeper in the box for whatever he was looking for.  A few more books caught his eye, but none of them seemed quite right. They all joined the growing stack on the floor beside the box. 

Tucked between the pages of a book that discussed the human genome, there was an ancient pamphlet of papers. Shouto curiously slipped it out of the pages and set the book upon his stack. 

It looked like a comic book, but he didn’t recognize the hero on the cover. In fact, he barely recognized the language. It took him far longer than it should have to understand the title.

He turned one of the thin, weathered pages. It slipped between his fingers so easily, he was afraid he’d tear it. As the story continued, he managed to decipher some common words, but overall it still was confusing to him. 

Comics like this weren’t uncommon. There were plenty of heroes that had their own books, comics, or stories thought up by marketing teams. His father was probably the star of plenty of made-up stories. The fact that he didn’t even recognize the publisher was even stranger. After years of hearing his father complain about all the idiotic people in merchandising, he knew most of the companies fairly well. 

Shouto turned another page and another until he was staring at the back cover. There was an advertisement for a cheap, chunky piece of technology from a company he had never heard of. He carefully set aside the comic, too. 

Inside the box, between the remaining books, there was another frame. It was a different color than the one abandoned on Izuku’s desk. Shouto picked it from the stack and turned it over.

His hands stiffened, fingernails scratching the glass.

The man from his dream. The dull, empty space he had been trapped in last night and his whispered words came flooding back to him. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were a mistake.” 

Shouto knew what nightmares were like, but that hadn’t been a nightmare. He didn’t know what it had been or why there was a photo of that man in Izuku’s room.

He was a child in the photo, but it had to be him. Shouto had no doubt in his mind. 

The color had faded in the years between when it was taken and now. His skin was sickly shade, barely a darker color than his long, thin hair. His visible eye was warm as it gazed at the camera, a contrast from the dark shadow underneath. The shy smile on his face that reminded him of someone. 

The other boy in the picture was just a little older. His hair was the same shade of white, but it was thicker and messier. His eyes were shut, an undecipherable color as he grinned at the person beyond the camera. That smile felt like it belonged to someone else, too. 

Shouto’s trembling hands managed to turn it over. His fingers moved without thought as he opened up the frame’s back and extracted the old photo. There were three words written on the back in faded ink. 

Hisashi and Yoichi 

This made no sense. Why would Izuku have this? 

There was an impatient knock at the bedroom door. Shouto froze. 

“Hey, Shouto!” Someone called through the door. He was fairly sure it was Dabi, but that only confused him further. “You up yet?”

He made a split second decision and stuffed the photo in the pocket of the sweats he borrowed from Izuku, then shoved the empty frame back in the cardboard box. He stumbled to his feet and went to the door. When he cracked it open, he was met with sharp blue eyes that confirmed his suspicions. “Dabi. What do you want?”

“I want to chat.” He pushed the door open over Shouto’s head, proving that he had no say in the matter.

“About what?” Shouto asked wearily as the villain strolled past him. He gave the room an unimpressed glance. He didn’t want to be alone in here with Dabi. He hadn’t forgotten what happened the first time they met.

“You know, I tried to kill you when you were first born.” Dabi said casually, like that made him feel any better about his current predicament. Shouto furrowed his eyebrows. He must really be losing it. “You were in Mom’s arms and I just couldn’t stand you, so I attacked you, then and there. I always regretted not being able to go through with it.”

“I’m confused.” He admitted, unsure what else to say. 

“Oh, I’m sure.” Dabi snorted. “Listen, I heard you’re collecting evidence to tear down the old man.”

Shouto frowned. “Who told you that?”

“Your boyfriend, but doesn’t matter. Point is, I’ve got the information to put him in Tartarus for the rest of his miserable life.” He declared. 

“And what’s that?” 

“Me.” Dabi’s face split into an unhinged smile. He held out his arms. “I’m your dear older brother.”

He stared at him for a long moment. Then he squinted at him. Shouto crossed his arms over his chest suspiciously. “Natsuo is taller than you...and his hair is white.”

Dabi dropped his arms unceremoniously. “I’m Touya, dumbass.”

“Touya’s dead.” Shouto pointed out. “He’s been dead for years.”

“Oh, yeah, Daddy told you that? Why the fuck do you believe a word that comes out his mouth?” He scoffed. “I don’t know why I fucking bother, I’ll just go back to my plan.” 

He started toward the door again in his irritation, but Shouto rushed forward and grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Wait–“ Dabi stopped with an unimpressed glare over his shoulder. “Wait a minute...give me a minute.”

Dabi rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He tore his wrist out of his grasp and leaned on the edge of the desk to give him space. 

Shouto sat back on the edge of the bed and rubbed his forehead. There had been a steady aching in his head since he woke up. It seemed to multiply in its intensity suddenly. 

All his life, Touya was a name he was not allowed to say. He was a taboo. There was a single photograph of him in their entire home. All of his things had been burned, Shouto didn’t even know which room in their house had been his. Shouto couldn’t recall anything about him that he hadn’t heard from years-old stories. 

Izuku was the one who had been more interested in his death. He wanted to know the truth. He wanted the details Shouto couldn’t remember. 

“I’ve got a proposition.” Touya said.

Shouto looked up at him expectantly and pulled his hand away from his face. “What?”

“I was going to go ask to borrow one of those nomu tomorrow.” He started offhandedly. “My plan was to use it to weaken him, then deal the finishing blow myself publicly. I figured it’d be awfully poetic if the old bastard never got that number one spot he’s always wanted.”

“You’re going to kill him on national television?” 

Dabi smirked and gave him a half-shrug. “Yeah, that was the idea, but I thought, fuck it, why not include my least favorite sibling? Your boyfriend says you’ve been collecting dirt, so here’s the deal. You hand it over to me, I expose myself to the world, and once he’s been ruined, instead of him rotting in some cell somewhere, I get to send him to the hell he belongs in.”

Shouto debated over his words for a moment. He sighed and leaned back on his hands. “I don’t want anyone else dying because of me.”

“You’re kidding.” He scoffed. “You think he deserves mercy, because– what? You’re tired of people dying?!” 

“Of course, he doesn’t deserve it.” Shouto snapped. “But I’m tired of watching people die! That was the whole point, he doesn’t deserve it, but we were going to be better people than him.”

Touya rolled his eyes obnoxiously. “I knew you’d be like this–“

“We expose him, then we wait.” He interrupted. “Mom has spent years in that hospital, Natsuo and Fuyumi have mourned you for years, we all have spent years being bitter and pained, he deserves that. He deserves that pain, doesn’t he? After that’s done, you can do whatever you want.”

His brother crossed his scarred arms over his chest, unimpressed. He was silent for a long moment. Shouto half-expected him to turn away and ignore that idea. 

Instead, Touya straightened up and addressed him again. “You wanna hang onto your hero dream? Fine. I can wait, I’ve been waiting for years. But I’m the one who gets to do it. I’m the one who gets to put an end to him, whenever it is.”

“Deal.” Shouto nodded. That was fine. He didn’t think he’d be able to stomach having to do it himself. “I’ve got everything on a flash drive that’s in Mom’s possession. It has files from his office Izuku and I found, cover-ups of police investigations into your death, injuries and hospital records over the years, everything that happened to Mom–“

“Wait, you involved her in this?” His brother asked.

“I had to. She doesn’t know anything about the League or Izuku, but they’re still technically married. She was able to help me with some of it. Besides, she was going to testify...“ Shouto trailed off as Touya laughed aloud. “What?”

He shook his head and ran a hand through his inky hair. “She knows about me, too. Hell, she’s probably been waiting for us to figure each other out.”

“She knows about you? How?”

“How do you think? I told her, dumbass.” He sighed. “Anyway, if she’s got it, I can get it while you’re still here on lockdown.”

“It’s not lockdown, it isn’t safe.” Shouto argued. “Yuuei knows about me now, heroes are probably looking for me, too.”

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself.” Touya shrugged as he approached the door again. “I’ll keep you updated.”

Then he was gone.

Green eyes were seared into his eyelids. He saw them when he blinked, when there was nothing else to look at. When the room was quiet and he was left alone, that white noise resonated in his ears, coupled with the man’s eerie voice. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were a mistake.” 

“Shouto?” His eyes snapped open. Izuku’s face was red and blotchy, a sign that he had been crying again. He crept closer to him hesitantly. “Hey, are you okay?”

“No.” He uttered. “No, this doesn’t make any sense.”

He didn’t know where heard been all morning. Shouto hadn’t dared to leave his room since Touya had spoken to him. He couldn’t force himself to move. His fist closed around the photo in his pocket. 

Izuku bit his lip and sat on the edge of the bed next to him. “L-Listen, if you– if after...you know, if you feel differently that’s– It’s fine. I understand.”

Shouto stared at him for a moment. He could tell his silence made him uncomfortable from how he squirmed and flexed his fingers. Izuku sniffled and wiped at his nose, determined to not meet his eyes. 

“I love you, you know.”

Izuku stiffened like the words physically cut him. “H-Huh?”

He sighed and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t get it out of my head. You killed him. I know it was wrong, but I can’t make myself stop caring about you.”

“S-Shou–“ 

“People do bad things,” Izuku’s breath hitched. “...but they do good things, too. I don’t want to define you by the worst thing you’ve ever done. I know I still love you anyway.”

Izuku sniffled miserably. “Ka...Kacchan, h-he, he was a-awful. He hurt me a-and others and...and– I hated h-him, once, but I loved him once, t-too. He didn’t deserve– he shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have–“ He dissolved into sobs. 

He moved forward and buried himself in Shouto’s embrace. His heart ached as he felt his trembling frame. He exhaled and clutched him closer to his chest. He wished he had some way to fix this, but he knew there was nothing to be done.

Shouto brushed a hand through his curls and rested his cheek on the crown of his head. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry it came to that, Izuku.”

For a long time, he didn’t say anything else. He let Izuku cry all he wanted, wishing he could do something more. As the other’s breathing grew a little more even and drier, his eyes focused on a corner of the room. 

Izuku slipped away from him, just out of arms reach. He busied himself by wiping away the tear tracks from his stained face. 

Shadows shifted in the corner of the room.

The hair on the back of his neck rose. Shouto gripped the wrinkled sheets between him, digging his fingernails in painfully. Suddenly, it felt hard to breathe. 

They were staring at him. Seven...eight, there were eight pairs of eyes. Eyes like needles that pricked his skin and dug into his bones. 

His quirk rippled under his skin. It didn’t feel right. 

“Shouto?” He flinched and tore his eyes from the shadows. Izuku’s expression was worrying. “Are you okay?”

When he looked back, there was nothing there. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and tried to melt the cracking frost on his arm in attempt to calm himself. It didn’t work. “I think I’m seeing things.” He admitted quietly. 

“What? Since when?” Izuku sat up. This was just like him, shoving aside his own issues the second anyone else was concerned.

Shouto shrugged. “Since last night. It’s fine, though. I’m handling it.”

“Last night...Does this have anything to do with the dream?” He pondered.

“How do you know about that?” He blinked. He suddenly remembered the photo in his pocket, the man who plagued him everywhere he looked.

Izuku sent him a puzzled glance. “You told me. You said something about it last night when I woke you up from it. You don’t remember?”

He shook his head timidly. “No. Not really.” He suddenly dug in his pocket and extracted the picture for him. “I went through your things this morning when I woke up. I’m not really...sure what summoned me to do it, sorry. But in those boxes, I found this.” 

Shouto handed over the photo. Izuku took it and frowned. He watched him examine it for a moment before he continued. He leaned over and pointed at one of the boys. 

“He was the one in my dream.” 

Izuku’s head snapped up to look at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Last night, I saw him. He was older, but I know it was him. He–“

“T-That’s crazy, I don’t–“ Izuku gripped the creased picture. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Do you know who he is?” 

“He’s my uncle.” He told him, before pointing at the red-eyed boy. “This is my father.”

Shouto hadn’t noticed the similarities before, but now that he said it, the other boy was clearly a younger All for One. He saw the familiar features in Izuku. “Your uncle? So does that mean you could contact him and ask him what the dream might be about? Why I’m seeing things?”

Izuku’s frown deepened. He shook his head slowly. “Shouto, he’s been dead for two hundred years. He was dead long before either of us were born.” 

“Oh.” 

In the back of his mind, he knew that. He remembered learning that once, a thing some point, but it didn’t seem right. He didn’t look like a dead man in his head. His eyes didn’t feel dead when they were boring into his skull. 

He set aside the picture and stood up. Izuku rubbed at his head and paced the floor before him, speaking to himself quietly. He turned back toward Shouto abruptly. “So let me get this straight; you had a dream of my dead uncle, he told this was a mistake, and now you’re seeing things?”

“Yes.”

Izuku suddenly stepped toward him. He took his hand without explanation and stood there for a moment with his eyes closed.

Shouto furrowed his eyebrows. “Izuku...what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to take your quirk.”

“Okay.” He answered dumbly. “Why?”

Izuku let out a frantic huff and released him. “I can’t. Why can’t I–“ He cut himself off. “You said you were seeing things. What else have you been seeing?”

“Shadows...people, I think. Eight of them.”

He ran a hand through his hair and turned around his room, muttering eight repeatedly to himself for another moment. Shouto watched him hesitantly. 

Izuku stopped sharply with his back to him. “The one quirk in the world I wouldn’t be able to take...” He slowly turned to look at him. “Shouto, did...did All Might do anything to you before he died?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. The last time I saw him before the fight at Kamino was final exams. He fought– um...why do you ask?”

Izuku swallowed and took his hands again, sitting beside him on the edge of the bed. “You remember why we rushed Kamino, right? What you heard in the office from All Might.”

“He was looking for something.” 

“A successor.” Izuku clarified. “His quirk, One for All, is unique. It’s the opposite of mine, my father’s. It can only be given, not taken. I think, maybe, somehow, you got it?” He explained awkwardly.

Shouto blinked at him. “I don’t understand.” 

He continued in a rushed tone. “Okay, so I’m not sure about the dreams, but the quirk comes from my uncle. He was the first user. You saw him, you knew where to look for the picture, you knew to ask me; you somehow knew all this even though you couldn’t have ever been told it. I think, well, through my quirk, I sometimes feel or see quirks’ past users, memories or visions and I can know stuff about the quirk without ever being told.”

“You think that’s what’s happening.”

Izuku nodded. “All Might was the eighth successor, eight shadows, eight past users. I’m not very sure how it’s transferred between users, but I’d have to guess maybe something to do with some kind of contact because of how mine works. Did you get close to All Might in any way before he died?”

He was quiet for a moment. Shouto replayed the days leading up to the summer camp, the fight itself. He almost opened his mouth to say he couldn’t recall anything, but he hesitated.  

Their rushed escape at Kamino had been a whirlwind. The entirety of the night blurred together in his mind, but one moment stuck out to him. When he caught a glance of All Might, when the hero realized he hadn’t been able to escape yet. 

That look in his eyes, the last ditch effort.

“Todo...roki...” 

He must have known he wouldn’t be leaving that battlefield alive. He knew it as soon as All for One arrived. 

When he got hit, when his blood splattered with the impact. Shouto absentmindedly wiped at his mouth. 

He couldn’t have known what he was doing. He was just trying to save the legacy. He probably died believing he did the right thing. He couldn’t have known yet that Shouto was a spy. 

A traitor. 

Another legacy he didn’t want, something else shoved upon him because he was the only option left. 

“He was right.” Shouto murmured. “It was a mistake.”

Chapter Text

“Izuku, are you still up?” His whisper cut through the night like a blade. 

His body was warm beside his, squeezed together on this bed that was too small for both of them. Izuku listened to a distant, passing car for a moment. It must be some early hour of the morning by now.

“Yeah. I’m still awake.” He rolled onto his side to face Shouto. 

The creeping moonlight sliced across his face. His right eye had turned silver. Midnight city noise filled the space between them. The thick heat of the summer seeped into the room despite the work of the ceiling fan over their heads. 

Shouto mirrored his movements, tucking his left hand under his cheek as his eyes searched him. “Do you remember when it was just us?” He mused quietly. He smiled fondly, like he was remembering the streets they used to wander under lazy moonlight; all the roads that led to each other. “Where there was no League or old quirks or anything like that.”

“All I ever worried about was if you’d be safe when you got home.” Izuku smiled thinly in return. 

“Don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

He paused for a moment, fingers curling and uncurling in the sheets. “Do you really think you’ll never go back? Never see your family or your friends at Yuuei again?”

Shouto shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know. I always figured this would be the outcome. I knew it the day I stepped into the bar. I thought I’d finish at least one year of high school, but I did make it longer than Touya.” He added with an amused tone.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” 

“Don’t be. I knew what I signed up for and that was you.” He murmured, reaching forward to tangle his fingers with Izuku’s. “Its always been you.”

His breath hitched. “Shouto...”

He smiled mutely before he continued. “I knew that there would be a day when I left home and never came back, because of these choices. It might be a long time until I see some of them again, until we can come up for air. I know it will all be different then, but I can only hope they understand, later, why I did what I’ve done.”

“You’re willing to give that up?”

“I’ve spent sixteen years letting other people make choices for me. I can’t live like that anymore. They’re just going to have to deal with it.” Shouto answered nonchalantly. “I think, when this all passes, it’ll be better anyway. I need time, but so do they.” 

A sigh escaped him, hand curling in his. “You seem pretty confident it will work out in the end.” 

“I am.” Shouto affirmed. “I’ve been watching the news, I’ve seen how people are reacting. There’s been all this talk about the Commission and some former heroes, like Lady Nagant. Heroes are scrambling to keep up. I think my father will be the last nail in the coffin, once Touya gets our stuff from my mother.”

Izuku was silent for a long moment. He could hear sirens out in the depth of the city beyond his window. In the corner of his eye, the fan turned in lazy circles.

He seemed to take that as a hint to continue. “I saw your father leaving this afternoon–“

“Did you say anything to him?” He cut him off abruptly. His grip tightened slightly. 

“No, nothing.” Izuku sighed and Shouto kept going. “How long are you going to keep this from him? You know he’s going to realize I have it eventually, don’t you?”

“You don’t know that.”

He huffed in amusement. “He’s been looking for that quirk for what? Two hundred years? You realized it in a day.”

Izuku shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “He doesn’t need to know.”

There something in his head screaming at him to keep this a secret, to never say One for All aloud in anyone else’s presence. 

“Izuku–“

“Shouto, you can’t tell him. We...I-I don’t know what he might do. I don’t know what he might do to you, if he knew.” It ended in a whimper, straining his voice to keep the sudden emotion from seeping out.

“I’m not going to, I’m just saying...” He trailed off. “We can’t keep it a secret forever, not right under his nose. I don’t know how to use it, I can barely keep my actual quirk under control, I don’t even know how to get rid of it.”

“I know. I’m...I’m working on it.” Izuku promised with a pause. “I don’t know. I might talk to my mom. There’s no promises she’ll know anything, but...right now she’s one of the last people I trust.”

“Okay.”

Shouto whispered a goodnight to him, when there was nothing left to say anymore. He shut his eyes, but Izuku wasn’t sure if he ever really fell asleep. He continued to watch the hazy lights bring color to his skin until he turned to sunlight. 

There was a shriek of laughter outside his door that woke him. Shouto had been missing for while already as he tossed and turned in an attempt to recover those missing hours. Izuku peeked outside into the hallway, trying to put a name to the quirks he sensed nearby. 

“I got you! You’re it!” Eri cried, struggling to pull Twice out of the bathroom. 

The masked man rubbed at his head, grumbling to himself in wildly different tones. “This is totally not fair– You’re too good at this game!”

There was a creak as his bedroom door opened wider. Eri looked up at him with a wide smile. “You’re awake! Do you wanna play hide-and-seek?”

Twice scooped her up and put her on his shoulders with a dramatic pose. “She’s the expert, even Toga can’t beat her– Won’t stop us, we’ll defeat the hide-and-seek victor!” Eri giggled and wobbled on his shoulders. 

Izuku smiled weakly. “Um, you two seem to be having fun on your own.”

“Toga’s playing, too, but she keeps using her quirk so I gotta tag everyone.” Eri huffed with the dramatics of a six-year-old. 

“How unfair!” He mimicked her tone.

She fought with Twice to get back to the floor and rushed toward him. Rewind buzzed in the back of his mind when she grabbed his hands. “Are you super, super sure?”

He patted her head. “I’m sure, thanks, Eri.” 

At least someone seemed to be enjoying the extra company. Her hair was tied up in messy buns again. He noticed her chipping, pink nail polish from when Magne had painted her and Toga’s nails yesterday.

She pouted for a moment, but suddenly a shadow appeared in the hallway before she could protest anymore. It was Dabi, except his hair was solid white. He blinked dumbly at the three of them with a out of character expression. 

Eri gasped and rushed toward him. “Your hair’s the wrong color! No, wait– Toga!” She slapped a hand on his knee to tag him.

Dabi giggled as his face melted and revealed the blond. “You caught me!” She dropped her knees with a fanged grin as her quirk dripped onto the floorboards. “You’re getting too good at this.”

He watched them for a moment as they started to debate who should be the next seeker, hidden in the shadows of his doorway. He slipped away before they could try and rope him in again.

His decision felt right, despite Eri’s disappointment. He didn’t belong in their game. 

The visible apartment was less full than he was used to seeing it. Kuroguri was missing, as were Mr. Compress, Magne, and Spinner. He knew his father was out, although he had no idea what it was he was doing. Nonetheless, the apartment felt more like when it just an overseas business man and two dead people.

He found Shouto on the couch, crouched over some papers and a laptop with Dabi. They were in deep debate. He didn’t think he should intrude on them, so he continued on. He wandered into the kitchen and quietly debated about some kind of meal to pick at because he still hasn’t been able to keep very much down. 

“Good morning” Mom smiled warmly at him, a steaming cup in her head. “How are you feeling? Do you want something to eat?”

“I’m okay, thanks.” He decided. He didn’t want an audience to question his lacking appetite. 

She nodded and guided him over to the dining table in a more secluded corner of the room. The ongoing game of hide and seek was loud, but felt distant. “You know, I was worried about how you’d react to all this, but you’re managing quite well, I think. Your father is...proud of you, you know. In his own way, even if you’re at odds right now.”

The concept of pride made his stomach churn. Izuku grimaced. “Odds is a understatement.” He muttered.

She sighed and reached across the table top to squeeze his hand. “You know it was an accident. It wasn’t either of your faults.”

Izuku shook his head determinedly, looking up at her suddenly. “He planned to do that t-to– He knew what he was doing!” He hissed quietly.

“It wasn’t his intention.” Mom returned in a surprisingly firm tone. “He planned every outcome of that fight, it was only ever supposed to be between him and All Might, but Tomura made him believe he was ready when he wasn’t. I told him that neither of you should have gone in the first place–“

“W-Wait, what?” He cut her off sharply. His heartbeat thumped in his throat. 

He was hearing her wrong. She didn’t mean that.

His mother frowned and slipped at her coffee before she repeated herself. “I told him that you and Tomura shouldn’t have been involved at all. If it was truly between him and All Might, then it should’ve stayed that way, but you know how he is, he never listens to me. He wanted to give Tomura his chance.”

Izuku shook his head slowly. “You knew? You knew w-what he was going do to Tomura?”

Mom nodded slightly, her hand creeping away from his. “He’s just like you, has to plan everything out and then recount it all aloud. We talked about you going to the forest raid, which was his idea, by the way. He promised that Tomura would be fine–“

This couldn’t be happening. Izuku drew away from her, stumbling to his feet and nearly knocking the dining chair down in the process.

This wasn’t right. Mom was supposed to be the normal one. 

She was the civilian. She was the one who always wanted to keep him safe. She always took his side, even when she didn’t understand the quirks or politics they talked about. 

“H-How could you let him? How– How could you have known and still let him?!” His voice grew louder. Shouto’s head turned in their direction curiously. 

“Izuku, sweetheart, sit down–“

“No, no, you knew.”  Izuku stared blankly at her, like he didn’t recognize the woman sitting before him. “You knew.” He repeated, just to hear the words come out of his mouth again, because they were true.

She knew and she didn’t tell him. She knew and she let him do it. 

“You understand why, right? Why he trusted Tomura?” She continued gently. “He didn’t think it would end that way...He only wanted to create a better story for us, all of us. At the end of the day, everyone just wants someone who will protect them, you know. It doesn’t really matter what they’re called.”

Tears were suddenly streaming down his face. His hands were shaking. There was a red and white blob in the corner of his vision, nervously approaching them.

“I-I–“ He heaved, shaking his head frantically. “I c-can’t do this–“

“Izuku–“ Her eyes were wet. She could never stand to see him cry. She tried to get up, arms reaching raised to embrace him.

He shoved past her and ran. 

The door slammed shut behind him and he twisted around in desperate search for some kind of escape. His name echoed behind him, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stand this place anymore. Further down the hallway, he crashed into a concrete stairwell.

He ran until his chest was heaving, until he burst out into the melting sunlight and the street of the city that had watched him murder someone on TV only a week ago. He had some sense to activate See Me Not so no one followed him, but it didn’t stop him from his frantic escape. 

The air in his lungs burned. His hands were curled into tight fists to keep from trembling. Wind whipped his hair as he weaved between the people, tear tracks were dried by rushing air. 

Only when it was finally too much, he stumbled into a jog and then a trembling walk until he tripped and he was suddenly on his knees in the middle of the sidewalk. There was a rip in the knee of his sweats. His body burned.

He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the unforgiving concrete. Izuku whimpered, slouching forward as he tried to get himself under control. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was. He might’ve teleported in his panic, he might’ve alerted every hero in the country of his presence.

Sickness creeped in from the back of his mind. He had been managing. He had been trying, but he had been tossed off another roof.

They were supposed to always be there for him. They wiped his tears and bandaged his wounds. They listened to his All Might prayers and his quirk rambles. They let him chase them around in his little costumes, screaming nonsense about heroes and villains, back when it didn’t mean anything.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be terrified like this, suffocating in a home with people he didn’t know anymore.

He tilted his head backwards with a frustrated huff and wiped at his blotchy face. From his angle on the sidewalk, he could see directly into the dining room of a restaurant. There was a TV on the wall, broadcasting a news station. Izuku froze for a moment and stared at the screen.

He wobbled to his feet. Against his better judgment, he pulled the restaurant’s door open and stepped inside. A waitress made a comment over his head about the rickety door, always opening for no one.

“...criminal activity seems to have risen across the board, but there has been an increase in vigilante response. A number of crime investigations have been complicated due to vigilante involvement.” A newscaster with lopsided horns spoke, reading from papers in his hands. “A spike in illegal quirk use has inspired lawmakers to suggest stricter legislation as well as the declaration of a state of emergency in several parts of the country including the Tokyo metropolitan area, the Kamino district–“

Izuku tilted his head at the TV. His face had finally dried by the time the man concluded his statement and directed the narrative of the show to a woman standing in front of a screen. 

She reported sharply as photos from last year’s Billboard Hero Rankings flashed across the screen behind her. ”High-ranking heroes have been victim to both physical and anonymous attacks. Rumors of suspension for Hawks have emerged, although remain unconfirmed, after photos of him and known League of Villains member Dabi surfaced publicly on Thursday. As well, a former employee of Endeavor has come out with new information surrounding the hospitalization of his wife, Todoroki Rei, over a decade ago...”

He released a shaky breath as the woman continued. The information she reported was substantial. All this had been happening without him knowing, while he had been unable to leave. 

The vigilante investigations must be the work of his father, they had his name written all over them in their violent anonymity. He wouldn’t be surprised if the increased crime wasn’t orchestrated by him as well. The stuff with Hawks; that couldn’t be anyone besides someone affiliated with the League. The photos would have surfaced earlier if anyone else had been holding onto them. 

Izuku shuffled out of the restaurant and away from the screen. He continued in a random direction less rushed, but no calmer. 

Everything was snowballing now. There was nothing to be done. Heroes lives would be ripped apart. Villains would have their second of glory, only to be ripped to shreds the moment his father saw fit. 

To top it all off, Izuku had no idea where to even begin with One for All. It would make it a whole lot easier if his uncle wasn’t just a ghost living in Shouto’s dream. Someone to ask for advice would be pretty nice right now.

All he had were two parents who lied to him in the name of protection and a boyfriend who was just as confused as he was.

Someone slammed into his side, dragging him harshly from his thoughts and subsequently throwing him to the ground. There was a clatter as several books fell out of his arms and rained down on him. 

“Oh, crap– Sorry, kid.” The man who ran into him muttered, suddenly very aware of Izuku’s existence.He prayed that the man had not been watching the news a week ago. 

It seemed someone was looking out for him, because the man didn’t say another word to him. He only kneeled to grab his fallen, black books and rushed away. 

Izuku watched his retreating back from his spot on the ground until he was gone, lost in the sea of people. It was only then that he noticed another one of those little books he had dropped. 

It was an autobiography of a man he didn’t recognize. He flipped through a few pages while the street crowd remained oblivious to him. A Meta Liberation Army was mentioned frequently. Izuku frowned and shut the book. 

He didn’t have anywhere to put it, so he kept it in his hands as he continued on his mindless path through the city. 

Izuku found himself in a park near an overpass, unsure how long it had been or how far he had gone. He might’ve alerted every hero in the country of his presence by now.

This place felt familiar, but not in a way he could name. It was grounded in messy feelings, rather than any actual idea where he was. 

He walked to the overpass, wandering until he was on top, leaning against the railing as cars sped past behind him. The steel bar was hot under his fingers. An undistinguishable amount of time passed as he simply watched the city exist.

Someone cleared their throat behind him. Izuku twisted around, only to be met with his father. “What are you doing here?” He accused bitterly.

“Your mother is worried about you. She said you ran out this morning.” He answered calmly. He paused at his side, staring out at the city. “You understand how dangerous this is, right? What if someone had recognized you?”

“Doesn’t stop you.”

“I can take care of myself, Izuku.”

“So can I.” 

Dad sighed heavily. “You can’t keep doing this. When no one knew who you were it was different, but now–”

“Because they saw me kill Kacchan.” He interrupted quietly. His gaze raised to meet his father’s. “Is that why? Or do you not want me out here because of what you’re doing?”

“Izuku–“

“The vigilante stuff, that’s you, right? The increased murders?” He tilted his head at him. “Hawks?”

“It’s the next development in our plan.” Dad returned diplomatically and ambiguously. Izuku scoffed. “You need to come home. You’ve worried your mother enough.”

Something deep inside him begged to challenge him. He wanted to ask what would happen if he didn’t go home, if he didn’t listen and he never returned to that place. He wanted to ask why he lied and why Mom did and why they were keeping him in the dark. 

But he didn’t. He knew what those answers were. He knew that crying and begging and pleading wouldn’t change his mind. 

Izuku stared at the concrete below for a single second before he pushed off of the railing. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to. 

His mind was already made up.

As soon as he approached the front door, he knew that there were more people on the other side than when he left. The missing members must have returned.

His father led the way inside. He didn’t pause for Izuku following behind him. For a moment, he remained frozen in the entry way. Stacks of mis-matched shoes were piled at his feet and he couldn’t move. 

Only some of the living room was visible. Several people had collected around the coffee table with a deck of cards. They went around in circles, switching out cards over their lively chatter. The TV was on; Izuku recognized the canned laughter of a sitcom. 

Eri wasn’t playing, but she was doodling on a corner of the table, squeezed between Magne and Twice. Toga cheered loudly as she slammed down another card. Dabi scowled and Spinner scoffed, flicking a candy wrapper at her face. 

He could see the edge of his mother in the kitchen, leaned over a counter as she peered at some papers. His father made a beeline to her, touching her gently and speaking quietly to her. He didn’t need to activate a quirk to know the words were about him.

Kuroguri made the short trip from the kitchen to the unraveling card game with a handful of drinks. He passed them among the former members before he took a seat on the couch behind them. He concluded by placing a bright orange lidded cup beside Eri and patting her head.

It struck him like a bolt of lightning, a sharp static in the air. 

He doesn’t belong here.

It was suddenly the first day of a new year, stopped in the doorway of a classroom and stuck staring through a pane of glass at the people he knows everything and nothing about. It’s a childhood playground, watching children run and scream and knowing he can’t join them. He doesn’t want to; he knows he doesn’t belong with them.

He doesn’t belong among them. He isn’t supposed to be here.

“Izuku...” A gasp tore his eyes from the other side of the room. Mom rushed forward, already sniffling. “I was worried you might not come back– You can’t just run off like that anymore!”

“I’m...sorry.” He felt like puppet; a wooden cross over his head raised his arms to hug her back. His father appeared on the edge of the kitchen and watched them quietly. 

She pulled away and tugged his face into her hands in a furious inspection. “You’re not hurt? You weren’t followed?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“I’m serious, enough going out! You c-can’t just do that anymore!” Mom cried. She took a deep breath before she continued softly. “I-I’m sorry if I upset you earlier, dear. I didn’t mean to. I-I know things are difficult right now.”

“It’s okay.”

The sound of footsteps drew closer and he knew there was only one person missing. Izuku raised his head and met his technicolored gaze. The creeping, lonely feeling was gone for a blissful moment. 

Visible relief flooded into Shouto as he slipped from his mother’s arms and met him. They collided without a word. Izuku released a heavy breath into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t need to stand on his toes anymore to hug him.

“Are you okay?” Shouto asked quietly. 

Izuku nodded barely with a low hum. “I am now.”

He pulled away from him with an awkward glance in his parents’ direction. “I’m going to go shower.” He excused himself quietly, gesturing to the pajamas he had run out in this morning without much thought. 

He caught the concerned looks they exchanged over his head, but ignored it and left without another word.

Dinner was probably being served by the time he snuck across the hall between his father’s office and his bedroom. Once he was alone, he locked the door behind himself and took a deep breath. His grip on the flash drive loosened. The damp towel fell to his feet as he rushed over to his wardrobe. 

He needed to be quick. He couldn’t let any of them catch on. If they found out, they’d never let him go.

When he was young, his father told him a story of two brothers. Izuku couldn’t remember all the details anymore, but he remembered a vault. He told him it was for his own protection. 

All he ever did was for his family. He would protect them, even if they couldn’t breathe anymore.

Izuku dug out a knapsack and left it open on his bed. 

The clothes, as well as his vigilante hoodie, that he had worn at Kamino were ruined. The stains couldn’t be washed out. 

So he found some plain clothes and stuffed them in the bag. He tossed in a thick roll of cash, the flash drive and the autobiography he found, a few half-filled notebooks, and a new set of pens he got after he lost his old ones in the move. His phone and computer could be tracked, credit cards could be tracked, so they were left behind. 

Izuku shuffled around the room, running on a nervous energy. He scanned his belongings, the things that survived the explosion and the midnight rush and all the places between then and now. 

There was a mess of papers left on his desk. He couldn’t remember the last thing he had been doing there. Whatever it was, he doubted it really mattered anymore. Izuku shuffled around the pages, recognizing some copies of the Yuuei records Shouto stole and his own handwriting. 

The photo of his father and his uncle was left there as well. Izuku held it up for a moment and paused to inspect their faces, flipping it over to read the names written on the back in a dead woman’s handwriting. 

Yoichi. He wasn’t sure if he had ever learned his name before now.

He and his successors had spent hundreds of years giving their lives to keep that quirk out of Dad’s hands. Izuku needed to know the history, the ins-and-outs and all the time in between that vault and Shouto. 

That wouldn’t happen here. He would not last here.

Izuku slipped the photo between the pages of a notebook already tucked away. He turned back to his desk and found three blank papers. He dragged over his chair and folded his legs underneath himself. He chewed on the end of a pencil as he debated over the swirling words in his head.

Once he started writing, he didn’t stop. He kept scribbling until he had filled each paper and signed them all. Izuku twisted around his room until he was facing the extra, unpacked boxes that had been shoved in his room when settling into their new apartment was no longer a priority. 

It took a few boxes until he found the plain envelopes he was looking for. He folded each of the papers meticulously. His fingers slid over their creases and he inhaled sharply. 

He labeled the first one Eri, because she deserved an explanation for why her pretend brother has left her. The second one was for his mother, telling her to not worry, even though it wouldn’t matter. The last one said Dad in crude writing. He told him that he had no choice anymore, that he had to do this for his own sanity. 

A knock sliced through the room as he licked the last envelope. Shouto called through the door. “Izuku? Are you in there?”

He stumbled across the room and cracked the door. “What?”

“Your mom made dinner.” Shouto presented a bowl to him. “I brought you some.”

Izuku allowed him to shuffle inside. He wordlessly watched his reaction as his discolored gaze scanned the room. His attention floated from the wardrobe’s missing items to the dresser’s drawers left open and the overflowing bag spilling out onto the bed.

“What’s going on?” He asked, slow and quiet.

“I’m leaving.” 

“You’re...what?” Shouto countered in mute disbelief. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“I can’t stay here. I won’t survive it.” Izuku inhaled sharply. “This...what they’re doing, it’s not what I want anymore. I don’t think there’s a way I can stay and make them see that.” 

“But– I mean, what about your parents? Your mother?”

He shook his head. “They don’t understand. I’ve tried to talk to them, but it doesn’t matter. After today, they’re never going to let me leave. There’s going to be more Kaminos and Hosus and USJs and I’m going to be trapped here.”

“I thought Kamino was supposed to be the end.” Shouto murmured. “All Might is dead.”

“But his quirk isn’t. The Heroes’ Commission is still running, there’s still more to be done.” Izuku argued. “This hasn’t stopped with Kamino, I’m not sure if it ever will.”

“But you’re just going to leave it all?” He protested as he took his hand in an attempt to reach him. “Izuku, what are you going to do alone?”

“I’m not– Won’t you come with me?” He begged. 

Shouto’s grip tightened on him. “Izuku...”

“I know,” He broke off with a nervous laugh. “I know it sudden but...we can’t stay, right? This is our only option. Until Dad finds out about the quirk, until someone else dies or kills–“ 

“Izuku.”

“The world is changing out there and I won’t– I can’t stay here and be lied to and told to sit put while it happens. I’m not saying it will be forever, but it will be now.” He promised. 

There was a conflicted edge to his eyes. Shouto didn’t speak for a long moment. Izuku hadn’t paused to consider the possibility of Shouto disagreeing with him, but here he was: hesitating. 

Izuku rushed to fill the silence. “I...you don’t have to come, you know. If you want to stay, especially now that you have Touya–“

“No.” Shouto interrupted him bluntly. “Don’t even suggest it. Wherever you go, I’m coming with you. I’m just...thinking about logistics. Where are we going to go? How are we going to get things like food and shelter?”

“I’ve got a list.” Izuku smiled. He broke away from him to dig out the flash drive he’d stashed away. “This has a ton of stuff from his computers. My father has resources across the country. He’s got contacts that won’t know any better if I ask for a favor, besides I have plenty of money and other means, if we get to that point.”

“Okay.” Shouto murmured as he rubbed at his forehead. “Okay, when?”

“Tonight.” 

“Right.”

Izuku paused for a second, gauging his reaction. “What are you going to do about your brother?”

“He doesn’t care about me. Everything I needed to do has already been done.” The other shrugged. “He’s practically handling everything with my father. I’ll be able to watch it blow up publicly, wherever we are in about a month.”

“And you’re sure?”

“Yes.” Shouto answered firmly. “There’s nowhere I want to be except by your side.”

He smiled thinly and stepped closer to him. Izuku traced his knuckles for a solemn moment and smiled again. “Thank you.”

Izuku placed the three envelopes in a line. He allowed himself a moment to read over the names again and again. They deserved an explanation, not forgiveness. He dropped his hands to his sides and exhaled.

“Are you sure about this?” Shouto asked. His voice was barely above a whisper, careful to not wake the League members stretched across the floor. 

Izuku nodded wordlessly and turned his head toward him. Then he froze with the glimpse of a shadow. “Kuroguri.” He gasped. He held up an arm before Shouto. His golden eyes were duller in the dark. He saw him connect the dots, between the letters and the bags on their backs, so Izuku continued. “Don’t try to stop us.”

The villain tilted his head. “I wasn’t going to, but...I’d like to offer some advice, if you’re willing.”

Shouto sent a bewildered expression in Izuku’s direction. Silence stretched between them for a moment before he whispered. “What advice?”

“Aizawa Shouta.” Kuroguri said. Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. “If you’re looking for somewhere to start.”

“I betrayed him.” Shouto returned quietly. “He won’t help us.”

If Kuroguri had a visible mouth, Izuku could have imagined it stretching into a smile. “I disagree.” He answered simply. “The Aizawa I knew will help you.”

Shouto frowned, moonlight shifting across his face. Izuku didn’t bother asking how, exactly, he knew Aizawa. He figured he’d find his own answers, if he decided to listen. “Thanks, Kuroguri.”

“I hope you have coordinates for wherever you’re going.” Kuroguri stepped over Toga’s sleeping form and held out a wispy hand to Izuku. His eyes darted toward it, mouth opening just as the villain interrupted him. “Take it.”

Izuku swallowed roughly and shook his head immediately. “N-No. No, I can’t. Dad–“

“Will not care.” Kuroguri countered. “I had a job to do and it’s done now. I think it would serve you better; that teleportation quirk of yours can only go so far.”

“Job?” He met his glowing eyes in curiosity.

“Your purpose.” Shouto made himself known again. His tone was subdued, delicate in the darkness. “Tomura.” Izuku stiffened.

Kuroguri turned over his outstretched hand and opened his palm to him. “He sent the nomu after you when you vanished in Hosu, you know. I think, despite your differences, he did care about you...in his own way.” The warper sighed longingly. “He would have ordered me to help you, I think, if he was here. This is the best way I can imagine.”

He glanced at Shouto, but the other only answered with a wide-eyed shrug. Izuku sighed. “F-Fine...if this is what you want, then okay.”

As soon as his hand closed around his wrist, he tugged gently. Warp Gate came to him easily, as mysterious as it always felt. It lacked the usual loyalty that made taking quirks difficult and left Kuroguri quickly. There was no personality to it, not like the chilling, burning balance of Shouto’s quirk or the warm familiarity of his mothers or even the blistering anger behind Explosion.

There was a sharp inhale from Shouto. He opened his eyes and blinked at the pasty, bony wrist he was still holding onto. Slowly, he tilted his head up to see his face. He immediately released him as his eyes grew wide.

Izuku never imagined what Kuroguri would look like without his quirk, but he supposed it didn’t matter. This isn’t what he would have ever envisioned anyway. 

A young man stared blankly back at him. Izuku wasn’t sure if he should even call him that. Kuroguri didn’t appear much older than himself, even if he knew he must be.

His unfocused eyes were clouded and discolored, like his pasty, flaking skin. There were surgical scars across his skin, drawing a map of deep lines. His hair was wispy, just like the rest of him used to be, but it was a bleached shade now. If Izuku didn’t know better, he would have thought it was made of clouds. 

“Thank you.” Kuroguri exhaled like a weight had just been lifted from his thin shoulders. His mouth moved awkwardly around his scarring when he talked. “You should go before it gets any later.” 

Izuku nodded slowly. “I...T-Thanks.” He guided Shouto toward the door, weaving between the sleeping bodies.

As he unlocked the apartment door, Izuku paused on his way out. He dared a glance back at the dim room. Kuroguri hadn’t moved. His head was down as he staring at his bony, pale hands. He raised his head slightly when he felt Izuku’s lingering presence. 

“Be safe out there.” The ghostly boy called. 

Izuku bit his lip and nodded silently in return. He slipped out into the hallway and the door felt shut with a soft thump. He hesitated for a moment, back pressed against the wood as he breathed deeply.

“Are you okay?” Shouto asked. 

“I’ve never seen him...like that.” He answered. “I’ve never actually seen him.”

“Do you think he’s right about Aizawa?”

“I don’t know.” Izuku confessed. “He’s never mentioned him before, I don’t think. But I think the school might be our first step anyway. We need to find out more about One for All.”

Shouto nodded shortly. “Right.”

He steadied himself and pushed off of the door. “Come on. We can’t go through the lobby because of the cameras, but I can teleport from the roof and put some distance between us.” 

They continued down the hallway and through the same service stairwell he used in his escape that morning. As he suspected, the roof was blocked by a steel, padlocked door. 

Izuku distantly heard the sound of another door opening somewhere in the building. He didn’t take the time to place it’s location. Instead, he reached over and grabbed the lock and activated the metal manipulation and a strength enhancer and pulled. The lock clattered to the ground unceremoniously.

The summer air was thick and humid around them. Even at the late hour, city noise echoed below them. Shouto peered around the roof suspiciously, but Izuku knew no one else would be up here. No witnesses.

He wandered over to one of the ledges and peeked over the edge, watching a lazy car drive down the street underneath them. His fingers twitched in his anxiety.

“Where to first?” Shouto asked quietly, although there was no reason to keep his voice down anymore.

He tilted his head back toward Shouto and beckoned him closer. “Get out of the city tonight, before the sun comes up.” Izuku began, pulling the hood of Shouto’s borrowed jacket over his district features. “Get our bearings, then track down some allies of All Might’s. His former sidekick runs an agency about an hour and half–.”

“Izuku!” His hands froze on either side of Shouto’s face. A shaky breath escaped him. “What are you doing?”

He shifted to put himself between Shouto and his father. The man was uncharacteristically frantic; his white hair was messy and unkempt and he hadn’t even stopped to put on shoes. One of his letters was clutched in his hand, torn in his haste to catch him. 

Izuku wondered if Kuroguri woke him or if he just happened to sense he was missing. It didn’t matter. 

“Dad. Don’t try to stop us.” He called to him firmly. Shouto took his hands and squeezed. One of them was shaking, but Izuku didn’t know who.

His father shook his head and gritted his teeth. “No. No, come back here. Whatever this is about, we can talk about it–“

“No, we can’t!” Izuku cried. “I’ve tried, I’ve tried over and over, but there’s nothing left to talk about. We’re leaving.” 

The letter wrinkled in his fist. His muscles tensed. Izuku inhaled sharply, stiffening. He didn’t want to fight him, but he would if he had to. With the mutation in his quirk, he could probably take a few quirks from here before he really had to–

Dad’s face softened as he took a step closer to them. “Izuku, please, there’s no reason to do this. I know it’s hard, but running away isn’t the answer. You don’t have to leave, you can come back inside with me.” His voice was strained in his desperation.

Izuku wasn’t sure if he had ever heard such raw emotion from his father. He sniffled. His nose was running, but he didn’t stop to wipe it away. Shouto’s fingers curled in his. 

“The only way I’m going back right now is if you drag me there.” Izuku promised. “Dad, I-I–“ He pressed his wobbling mouth into a line. “I have to do this.” 

His father flinched in the hazy, yellow moonlight. Humid air remained stagnant between them. His father didn’t speak. His scarlet eyes darted over his face in disbelief. 

Shouto’s voice was barely audible. “Izuku...we need to go.” He was staring at a spot of the roof between them. His heel slid back.

“He’s right.” Dad said vacantly. Izuku looked up abruptly. “Go.”

He must not have heard him correctly. “W-What? You’re letting us go?”

His father’s expression faltered, but he nodded. The tension seemed out of his posture. He suddenly looked tired. “I made this mistake once a long time ago...I won’t do it again. If you believe you have to, then...then go.”

“I do.” Izuku nodded determinedly. He tightened his grip on Shouto and took a step toward the ledge. 

Dad didn’t follow them. He only watched them with a mystic, melancholy expression. His eyes flashed in the moonlight. “Izuku, you can always come home.” He called. “No matter what.”

“I...I know, Dad.” 

They turned away from him, only a few centimeters from falling. Izuku sucked in a deep breath and shut his eyes. “Ready?” Shouto asked. 

“Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder at his father for a moment before his eyes met Shouto’s. “Trust me?”

Shouto answered with a knowing smile. “Always.”

They stepped off the ledge together. For a split moment, there was a roar of rushing wind in his ears, a warm hand in his as he summoned a place in his mind. 

Then they vanished.