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Izuku wakes to his cheek pressed against wet concrete. His memories are foggy, the last thing he remembers is walking home from school.
The room is dark and he looks around frantically, but there’s nothing to make out. His shoulder is sore where it’s pressed to the ground, same as his hip.
Izuku tries to sit up, but falls back over on his side.
His hands are tied behind him.
Why are his hands-
He grits his teeth. There’s nothing spectacular about Izuku. He’s a third year middle school student with no quirk, nobody should be interested in him.
Or rather- that would’ve been the case a few months ago. Now he’s training with All Might to receive his quirk and while Izuku doubts anyone has figured out the latter part, someone could easily notice the connection between the two of them.
Looking back...All Might and he weren’t exactly subtle.
He wriggles up, noticing that his legs are bound together as well. The chains are thicker here, but less painful in practice. The chains tying his wrists back are almost squishing his shoulders together.
On his knees finally, Izuku takes a look around. It’s a dark room, probably grey from what he can see in front of him. The floor is damp, wetness sinking into the black fabric of his school uniform pants. The air is humid, muggy and the whole place smells stale and musty.
It’s clearly some sort of abandoned place.
“Hello?” Izuku calls, uncertain. He doesn’t want whoever is here to notice, but he needs to check if there’s anyone else in the room.
His voice echoes, but the room remains silent.
Swiveling his hips, Izuku manages to gain a little bit of distance across the floor. Despite the three months of heavy duty exercise and diet, he’s left exhausted and winded after the movement.
He curses softly under his breath, pressing his head to his knees.
Something slams in the distance and Izuku jolts up, gasping. A metal door, maybe? He manages a few more knee hops toward the opposite side of the room.
If he could just get by the door-
But his knees ache from slamming against the concrete over and over, and his limited mobility means he hasn’t moved more than one or two meters.
Footsteps echo in the distance, a heavy thunk against the metal floor. Izuku tenses but scowls. He isn’t going to be a useless hostage, he may not have much training or skills yet, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try his best.
Izuku gives the room another look over. His eyes have adjusted to the lack of light, however, there’s still not much he can make out. Still nothing he can use. He bites his lip, nostrils flaring.
Light floods the room along with a sharp squeal. The metal door slams against the concrete wall and Izuku flinches, scrunching his eyes shut at the bright contrast.
He blinks rapidly, pressing his eyelids shut as tight as he can. The sooner he gets over this, the sooner he can see who grabbed him.
Izuku opens his eyes.
In front of him stands…
Himself?
The person certainly looks like him, from the curly green hair to the wide green eyes to even the same amount of freckles splayed across their cheeks. But other him is wearing strangely formal clothes that Izuku wouldn’t be caught dead in and the grin that slashes across his face is not an expression Izuku could ever imagine having.
Izuku’s mouth drops open, eyebrows furrowing.
“What- who are-?”
The person laughs and despite the mockery behind it, it sounds just like Izuku’s own laugh. He breathes faster, a cold sweat slicking down his back.
“Who are you?” He tries to demand, but it comes out pitiful, unsteady.
They stop laughing, smile once again curling up.
“I’m you, stupid,” they say, sauntering forward, “Except from an alternate timeline.”
They- or he? Izuku guesses, stops right in front of him. They’re the same height, but the other him has scars visible on his arms and one that cuts up through his eyebrow.
Izuku swallows, his mouth dry, “An alternate...did a quirk-?”
“You’re smart,” cuts off the other Izuku, “But that’s a constant. The patheticness, much less, of course.”
Hunching at the insult, Izuku peers at the other through his lashes.
“Do you know why I’m here?” He asks, “Are you going to help or-”
“Help?” The other scoffs, “Why would I do that, when I put you here.”
“What?” Izuku lurches forward in shock, wobbling as he comes unbalanced.
“I said I put you here. Midnight’s quirk came in handy for that.” A stream of pink aromatic gas floats from the other him’s forearm and Izuku jerks back this time.
“What- how-?”
“Anyway, give me One for All and I’ll let you leave.” The other Izuku smiles. It would look warm, but there’s just an emptiness behind the identical green eyes staring down at him.
“No,” Izuku says without thinking.
“Oh?” The other asks, before leaning down and pressing a hand against his face, “No?”
“That’s right,” Izuku refuses, “No-”
He shrieks as electricity screeches through him, nerves on fire, a melting hot agony that steals his breath and has him tipping forward, head hitting the other him in the stomach.
The pain stops at that and he pants, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.
“I won’t be so nice next time,” says the other, patting his head harshly, “So just give me the damn quirk.”
How other him has two seemingly unrelated quirks flashes through his mind, but the sparking jolts of pain scatter his thoughts.
The hand comes to his jawbone again and Izuku whines against his will.
Nothing happens.
His head is jerked upwards suddenly by his hair, the other Izuku fisting strands of it to move him around.
“You don’t have it yet,” he whispers, something dangerous glinting in his eyes, “I miscalculated, you don’t have it yet !” His voice pitches upward and he scowls at Izuku. Seeing such an expression on his face is unsettling and Izuku tries to squirm away.
Clearly, other him wants One for All, but Izuku wouldn’t give it to him, even if he did have it. A small huff leaves his lips at the other’s foiled plan.
A hand crashes across his face, stinging harshly against his cheekbone. Izuku yelps, falling over. His cheek burns, hot against the cool floor. Struggling and squirming back to his knees, Izuku scoffs.
“Sorry, I guess you’ll just have to take on All Might if you want the quirk so bad.”
He pants, shoulders aching from the position they’re forced into and the times he’s hit the floor. Despite this, Izuku puts on his best Kacchan smirk, though he’s sure it’s strained at the edges.
Other him might have an incredible quirk, but All Might is more than enough to take on some teenager.
“You know,” he says, unperturbed by Izuku’s smug smile, “I do have a solution for that.”
Izuku frowns slightly, tugging once more at the bonds around his wrists.
“What are you- what are you talking about,” he asks, trying to mask the wobble in his voice.
His double looks at him, the corner of his mouth upturned, and spins around, walking to the far corner of the dank room.
Only when the other is close does Izuku notice what he’s carrying.
The yellow backpack he had on before he was snatched.
“How is that going to help?” Izuku tries, channeling as much Kacchan in his tone as he can, gripping his hands tightly together so that they don’t shake. Instead of saying anything, his double unzips it, dumping the contents on the floor.
Izuku cringes at the sight of his charred notebook skidding across the floor. The double ignores it, picking up something else.
His gym clothes.
Aldera can’t afford gym outfits and uniforms, so the school mostly keeps to a dress-code for gym clothing. It’s the same clothes he wears when helping All Might at the beach. Dread at the sight of the other’s gloved hand pools in his stomach, rising like bile to his throat.
“We really aren’t that different, you know?” His double unfolds the shirt, a simple one that just has a small All Might graphic on the front, “You really think they’ll notice?”
“Yes!” Izuku bites out, glaring, “Of course they will!”
“Do they?” Other him sounds amused, “Even if they do, they’d still have to find you down here, after all.”
He scoops up the contents of the backpack, sans the clothes, and dumps them back in.
“What is it, five days without water?” Other him laughs at the door and Izuku attempts to hop forward, only to succeed in bashing his chin painfully against the ground when he flops over.
“Good luck, Izuku.” Says the other him.
The metal door slams against the metal frame, the light dying out in a blink, leaving Izuku tied against the cold, wet concrete floor.