Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everything around them was obliterated, turned to ash and dust, and crushed into the finest particles of debris in the air.

Theoretically, it was mid-morning, but Ochako couldn’t tell between the smoke and her focus on the ground.  With how dark the sky was, it felt like night, and the cold air pricked her skin as she moved.

Ochako flew over the remains of the city, cracking the air in an explosive sonic boom, as she hunted for her quarry.  Today was the end of the line, she hoped, after hours of fighting, destruction, and death from evening past dawn.  She was exhausted but she was hoping it wouldn’t matter if she could make the next few minutes count.

They had been tracking their villain target - the villain target, the boogeyman haunting superhuman society - for years, but today was the day.  Today was the day she was going to bring him in or, better yet, the day she was going to put Blackwhip through his heart like a sword.  She would end the threat to peace, stability, and life once and for all.

Ochako came to an explosive landing when she found her target:  All for One, holding Frostfire in the air by the neck and speaking indistinctly to him.

“Oh, hello, Uravity, how nice of you to stop by,” All for One said in a louder voice when he noticed her.  He turned back to look at Frostfire, who clawed uselessly in All for One’s grip, gurgling a bit.  “It’s so rude to interrupt, though.”

Frostfire tried to throw fire at All for One’s face, but All for One simply pushed his hand away in a quick parry.  Ochako looked over and saw Dynamight, unconscious against a pile of rubble.  His legs were visibly broken, and he didn’t look like he was in any shape to fight anymore.

All for One tossed Frostfire far away, where he landed in a pile of debris with a crash.  Then he turned back and looked at her with distant, unfocused red eyes.  He wore a bodysuit, mostly black with red accents and long, dark emerald stripes.  His gloves were crimson with gold decorative buckles on the knuckles, and he had a thin, scarf-like black cape with a two-tone red and green line running down it.

All for One was exceptionally powerful, so Ochako let the pink wildfire of One for All flare around her at maximum output as she prepared for another round with her inherited archnemesis.

“Now, you know I don’t really enjoy fighting you, Uravity,” All for One said in a low, quiet voice, and Ochako scoffed.  Then she disappeared in a sonic boom and went straight for All for One’s face with a right hook.

He dodged with inhuman speed, ducking and weaving through her punches.  She was well aware a direct frontal assault wouldn’t work on him, but she was waiting for—

He thrust out Rivet Stab like blades on his fingers, trying to stab at her midsection, and she countered on instinct with Blackwhip hardened like broadswords from her left hand in a horizontal sweep.  Blackwhip crashed through Rivet Stab, destroying it.  For a brief moment, All for One was stunned.

Then she grabbed him by the little mask thing on his neck and drove him right into the ground with a shattering crash, back-first.  The concrete at their feet exploded like glass, and All for One made a strangled noise of pain as he coughed up blood.

Ochako drew her fist back and tried to punch his head with all of One for All blazing as a pink inferno, but he barely managed to roll out of the way and trip her with his leg.  Her armored fist went through the ground, then left a crater as she ripped it back out in a shower of earth.  He scrambled away but she shot Blackwhip out and drew him in for an explosive kick back to the ground, right into his chest.

“You always go easy on me, that was your first mistake,” Ochako said as she tried to stab him in the chest with Blackwhip.  He dodged it and her attack went straight into the ground like a knife through butter, leaving sizzling holes from the heat.

He tumbled away again and wiped blood off of his face with his right hand.  All for One eyed her warily, and she watched crimson lightning crackle across his costume and behind his eyes as he seemed to begin to take her seriously.

“Going easy on you… was never the issue,” he said, his breathing heavy after fighting for so long that morning.  Ochako just scoffed again at him, irritated and deeply unimpressed.

“Could’ve fooled me,” she replied as she punched an air pressure wave at him.  One for All ripped her brunette hair into the air around her headband, though All for One blocked her attack one-handed with some kind of yellow energy shield.

“I’m glad I reclaimed this one,” All for One muttered as he looked back over to Ochako.  “You know, they’ll probably… do an indiscriminate strike soon, right?”

Ochako raised an eyebrow as she began to circle All for One.  He stood very calmly and very still, save for his heavy breathing, and followed her with his gaze; only his scarf-cape moved in the frigid wind.  His eyes were darkened and intense, but his expression was muted, like he couldn’t quite decide what to do with it.  That was common with him, she’d learned over five years of chasing after him and trying to bring him down, and she hated it.

She hated how familiar she was with him and how, despite that, she still couldn’t read him well.  Nana always told her that she needed to understand if she wanted to destroy, via the metaphysical connection of One for All.  But Ochako wasn’t sure she ever understood One for All or All for One; not in the way that Nana so desperately wanted her to, at least.

It was freezing out in the dead of January, but she didn’t feel the cold with how hot One for All ran over her Hero costume.  She wore more armor than she used to, courtesy of Melissa Shield:  two-tone blueish-black and pink gauntlets that covered her hands, heavier boots, and an armored chestpiece meant to stop rifle rounds, all built from Melissa’s ‘Full Gauntlet’ prototype material.  Ochako felt more alive than she’d felt in a long time as she clenched her armored fist and continued to circle him.

She’d only fought All for One a few times in the past - though she’d encountered him more often than she’d fought him - and every time she felt like there was a livewire in the back of her mind willing her forward.  She also felt like she was one wrong move from death each time, even if - maybe especially if - All for One was going easy on her, and that was thrilling, too, in its own way.

Ochako hated All for One, she believed, but she didn’t hate fighting him.  It gave her a sense of purpose as the Ninth Bearer of One for All.

Ochako completed a full circle around All for One without responding to him, and he said nothing in turn.  He was always like this with her:  waiting for her to respond to him, giving her a chance to speak, and she didn’t get it.  Part of her wondered if he was simply obsessed with her; if he just wanted to see how the Ninth Bearer ticked before he took her apart.  He was obsessive in general, she’d learned, so that would fit.

Nana always told her to be wary of his abilities - to ‘be careful against the boy without a fate’ - and she took that advice to heart.

“They wouldn’t launch an indiscriminate attack when there’s still Heroes in the blast radius,” Ochako settled on saying when she reached her original position in a full circle.  To her profound irritation, All for One raised his right hand and index finger and pointed somewhere above and behind her, smirking as he did so.  Ochako rolled her eyes, the pink fire of One for All dimming a bit around her.  As if she was stupid enough to fall for that trick.  “You really don’t respect me, do you?”

“That’s not true.  But they don’t respect you, that’s for sure,” All for One replied calmly, having caught his breath, though his expression fell into something neutral.  That was when Ochako heard the whirring of a plane engine, whipping around in time to see fighter jets flying in formation.

“Fuck,” Ochako breathed, then she turned back to find All for One right next to her.  Ochako gasped and made to throw a punch, but All for One merely pushed her away with surprising force, sending her flying.

“You’ll want to move away from Dynamight and Frostfire, Uravity,” All for One called out by way of explanation as he walked towards her.  Ochako landed on two feet and immediately scrambled backwards, realizing what he meant:  the fighter jets were aiming for him, so she needed to minimize collateral damage by pulling him away from her comrades.

All for One abruptly took off, crackling red lightning on his body as he zipped through the city wreckage away from where he’d left Dynamight and Frostfire.  Ochako turned and cursed under her breath as she watched the fighter jets change course and try to keep a bead on the villain.  That was pointless - missiles weren’t going to kill him with how many defensive quirks he had, she was sure - but All for One had one point at least:  the government didn’t respect her, and they’d made that abundantly clear in her time as a Hero.

Ochako took off like a pink rocket, intending to try and catch up to All for One and pin him down.  The jets were a secondary concern for her, since she had faith in her ability to dodge the explosions.  All for One was fast, as far as such things went, but the Ninth Bearer was faster, so she caught up to him and knocked him to the side with a hard kick and a sonic boom into the remains of a leaning skyscraper.

He made a confused cry of surprise and pain as a larger chunk of rubble cracked him over the head, then looked dazed as blood ran down his forehead from his hairline.  Ochako couldn’t believe how the stars had aligned for her as she bounded over and immediately picked him up by the collar with her hand.  Blackwhip hardened like blades around her other hand and she decided at that moment to end things as she pushed him against the twisted metal.

He was important.  You needed him.

Nana’s voice, clear and sharp and true, cut through Ochako’s thoughts.  Ochako hesitated for just a moment, processing the statement and what it meant in this context.

She blinked as she registered something, as all the hair on the back of her neck stood up and Danger Sense screamed:  the whirring of something flying towards her.  She had been so caught up in her victory that she forgot about the jets.

Ochako saw the missiles and felt frozen to the spot.  Her rational mind hadn’t caught up yet with reality, and she was loath to let go of All for One.  Part of her thought the missiles would kill him, but another part of her insisted that nothing short of her watching him die up close would make it a sure thing.

The first missile struck the ground across from them and the sound made Ochako go deaf as heat washed over her.  The second hit the building above them, low in its center of gravity, and it began to tilt over them and fall as its support pillars buckled under the strain of its own weight.

Ochako cried out in surprise when All for One reached out and grabbed her, shoving her to the ground.  She tried to push him off her but he covered her whole body with his own, as much as he could.  There was a yellow glow and she assumed he was using some kind of defensive quirk; she brought her hands up to protect her face and head.

Then there was a devastating explosion of heat around them, and Ochako’s world went black.

Ochako is dreaming:  a lucid dream given to her by Nana Shimura, the Seventh Bearer of One for All, and now the personification of One for All as a whole.

She is familiar with the dreams by now.  The things that Nana tries to show and tell her about how the world is all wrong, and how she needs to make things right.  The mechanism by which Nana admitted failure and told Ochako that her second child was lost.  The way that Nana told her that he was meant to be the Ninth Bearer of One for All, that he was meant to be a Hero… and how he was taken from her by the man who would be king, just as her grandchild was.

The way that Nana cried for him and the fact that he could not be saved, just like Tenko Shimura could no longer be saved.  The way that Nana cried that Tenko could never be saved - not by Nana, at least - and how she lost, again and again, across infinity itself.  Nana’s sorrow crashes over Ochako like an ocean sometimes even still for what she felt was lost.

She still remembers when she first saw him in person, as the dream plays out.

Ochako, an adult, wears her current Hero costume and stands off to the side as a ghost.  The dream is silent - they’re always silent - but she remembers the words, the things that Nana is showing her.  The dream provides the words from her memories, so that Ochako can follow along with clarity.

It’s not the first time she’s seen this dream, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

In front of her, five years younger and with a lighter costume, little Ochako is interning with Gran Torino and trying to master One for All in little increments at All Might’s behest.  She is practicing using it in tiny bursts across her whole body to fly around.  It was hard back then to use Zero Gravity on herself with how One for All amplified it, but she practiced that with Gran Torino, too.

But tonight, she's in an alleyway trying to prevent Iida from making a huge mistake.  Ochako’s adult self watches her younger self come to a skidding stop at the opening, looking frantic.  She stops; however, the scene that greets her is… baffling.

Little Ochako finds Stain, the Hero Killer, standing in the dark with his arms crossed.  He leans against the wall and looks none too pleased.  On the other side of the alley, there is the pro Hero, Native.  He’s already dead, his corpse leaned against the wall and slumped to the ground, though Stain seems entirely unconcerned about that now.

Next to Native, with his hands in his pockets and his right foot planted against the wall, is All for One.  His left foot is firmly planted on Iida’s back, as Iida is pinned to the ground, and All for One rests his weight against the wall of the alley.

Iida doesn't making any motion to try and get up.  Not that he could, little Ochako suspects, with All for One standing on him.  She realizes that must be Stain’s handiwork, how he somehow defeats pro Heroes with only melee weapons.  He's a menace, a terror in the night, and she doesn't want to get too close.

Stain and All for One are talking when she rounds the corner, but they stop and look at her when she does.  The dream remains deathly silent, though it provides their words from her memories as adult Ochako reads their lips.

“Ah, just the person I didn’t want to run into,” All for One deadpans.

She knows who he is even then, both from the dream of One for All and because All Might showed her pictures.  Five years before she met All Might, he defeated the original All for One, and All for One elected to kidnap his estranged son and pass on his power to him in response.

To bend and break little Izuku Midoriya, to transform him into something horrible and cruel to spite the legacy of All Might and Nana Shimura, to show how even the most promising and hopeful young children who aspire to be Heroes can be destroyed.

The new All for One’s first act as successor, once the quirk was firmly his, was to kill his father.  But the damage is done, as there is no Izuku Midoriya anymore.  The little beautiful boy with the curly green hair and emerald eyes was taken, and Mikumo Akatani stands before her as All for One.

Now, he and Tomura Shigaraki plan to watch the world burn together as brothers, bound by their dark father and their hatred for a world that never loved them.  The world rejected them - it failed to offer them a hand - and now, it will shudder in the face of their power, the dream provides.  That One for All is a power made to destroy, but by failing to save those two little boys, the Bearers have failed to be Heroes.

The new All for One is so… young, with dull red eyes, wild, black hair that covers some of his expression, freckles, and a boyish face that doesn't suit his new role in life.  He wears a dark costume that yet seems like it was meant for something different; that it was meant for a Hero.  Whereas the original wore bizarre suits and had a flair for dramatics, the new All for One feels…

Small.  Like he lives his whole life in a corner and hopes the world doesn’t see him.

He is handsome, though his eyes are sunken and his skin is pale.  He reminds her of a vampire but in a sad way.  The contrast between his boyish face that certainly must have been kind once and the monster he’s become is jarring in its intensity.

Nana told Ochako the truth about how little Izuku was always meant to be a Hero; the greatest Hero who ever lived.  The sheer magnitude of what has been done to him makes the adult Ochako watching him begin to cry.  She doesn't know him, not properly, but she knows who he was meant to be.

“Your classmate, Iida, tried to pick a fight he wasn’t ready for yet, Uraraka Ochako,” All for One says in an even tone.  He is formal and polite, and even now, with tears streaming down her face, Ochako’s adult self doesn’t understand why he doesn’t hate her.  She thinks she's supposed to hate him, but she doesn't think he's ever hated her.

Little Ochako watches in mute horror as Stain turns to All for One, perplexed.

“You know her?”  Stain asks, and All for One hums neutrally, a non-answer.  Little Ochako is only just close enough to hear and she takes a sharp breath, realizing that All for One could expose One for All right here, if he wants to.  Just like Iida, she may have made a horrible mistake.

Adult Ochako, the ghost of the dream, slowly walks forward as she wipes her face off, looking more closely at All for One as the dream continues.  He could have ended everything here.  But he didn't.  To this day, she isn't sure why.

“You could say that,” All for One says cryptically.  “She’s important.  I need her.  You aren’t allowed to kill her.”

Stain visibly tenses at All for One’s words, and little Ochako sees that he still has a knife in a reverse grip, hidden behind his right wrist.

Adult Ochako frowns.  She had forgotten that he used those words.  Nana’s words, her cryptic metaphor for the metaphysical hole in reality left by All for One’s kidnapping.  Her words for how Ochako and All for One were bound by fate, and how, at the same time, All for One is now the boy without a fate.  Her words… for how Ochako needed him, too, just as he needed her.

Ochako’s adult self wonders how All for One knows them.  She wonders if he has a connection still, however faint, with One for All through All for One.  She wonders if maybe his connection to One for All has become permanent due to Nana’s interference with the timeline itself.  She wonders if he even knows the words’ meaning, with the power of Nana Shimura over the fabric of reality itself through One for All.

Does he know about true infinity, the way that Ochako has learned about it, or is it something he can only dream about?

“Who says that I take orders from you?”  Stain growls at All for One.

In response, All for One’s Rivet Stab tendrils crash like a wave of blades around Stain, shattering the wall behind him as crimson lightning crackles across their length and All for One’s jumpsuit.  They come from All for One’s shoulders, his arms, and his chest and little Ochako watches Stain realize that he’s already dead, if he chooses to disobey.

All for One is not to be trifled with, his power overwhelming, little Ochako learns that night, and so does Stain.

“Try me,” All for One replies calmly.  The Rivet Stab tendrils retract.  Stain does not try him.  “We’re going to leave now.  You should make sure Iida here understands not to bite off more than he can chew in the future, Uraraka,” All for One continues, loud enough for little Ochako to hear but still looking intently at Stain.  Iida grunts as All for One steps away from the wall, briefly placing all of his weight on Iida’s back before stepping off into a clean walk away.

Stain follows wordlessly, having come to understand his new place in the world.

Little Ochako, then only fifteen and knowing she is not yet up to the task of challenging the boy who would be king, growls under her breath in frustration.  How dare he treat her classmate like that?  How dare he act like he is the be-all, end-all?  Power is not everything in their society, no matter how much some people claim otherwise.  Just because he has all the power in the world, that doesn’t give him any right to treat other people like garbage.

But she does not follow or challenge as the portal opens and the villains step through it.

Adult Ochako watches on in sadness as the scene begins to fade into white and ash, as if Shigaraki himself were disintegrating it.  Little Ochako didn’t understand, back then, the true nature of the challenge she faced; not like Ochako understands it now.

A pro Hero died that night, yet Ochako never really wondered if she could’ve prevented it.  Iida was safe, yet she was never under any illusion that it was because of what she did.  Ochako felt so frustrated after that night, not because she felt like she should’ve done something different, but because she felt like it wouldn’t have mattered if she did something different.  She felt like her fate was already decided, while All for One could shape fate however he wanted.

She resolved that All for One would not make her feel that way ever again, if she could help it.

Ochako wakes up with tears in her eyes, and not just from the agony she’s in.

Chapter Text

When Ochako woke up, she immediately felt a flaming, horrific pain in her chest and leg, gasping for breath as tears tracked down her face.

Her breath came out shallow and wheezy, and she began to instinctively panic when she realized her arms were tied behind her back in some way, and her feet were stuck together.  She tried to lean forward and look at her feet, but her whole body felt sluggish and lifeless while her vision blurred.  Ochako also realized, to her horror, that she was freezing, and she couldn’t feel her face very well.

“Good morning,” an unpleasantly familiar - and irritatingly, slightly sarcastic - voice said from somewhere to her left, so Ochako’s chest began to heave harder in response.

“Wh-where… What did you do to me?  Where are we?”  She spat out, trying to sound more confident than she felt as she stuttered.  Ochako realized that she was in the jaws of death, and her mind was still processing her primal, baseline fear at the prospect.

Distantly, her mind asked, why was she still alive at all?  But, in her panic, she couldn’t bear to focus on that.

“I didn’t do anything to you,” All for One replied simply.  She still couldn’t see him.  “And we are in the Tokyo subway system presently, with a skyscraper’s worth of rubble on top.”

Ochako tried to call on One for All but it wasn’t working.  She made a strangled sound of irritation, then found that the slightest movements were beginning to feel agonizing.  There was an uncomfortable pressure on her left leg and what felt like fire in her chest.  Her breathing was coming out faster and shallower every second, and the pain intensified accordingly.

“Did you… Did you take it?!”  Ochako said as loud as she could muster.  She meant to yell but her voice came out scratchy and muted in her fear.  All for One merely cleared his throat in annoyance.

“No,” All for One said.  “You’re just wearing two pairs of quirk-suppressing handcuffs.”

Ochako blinked in confusion and her vision began to clear a bit.  She glanced down the best she could and saw that, indeed, her boots had been taken and she had handcuffs on her ankles.  She turned towards where she thought All for One’s voice was coming from, but it hurt and she cried out in pain at the sharpness of the feeling.  Tears stung her cheeks but they were hard to feel in the cold, and that didn’t improve her panicking, either.

All for One walked around into her field of vision at a slow pace, twirling four familiar-looking pink rings on his index fingers.  Her gauntlets and her boots, she realized, collapsed into their portable forms.  Her vision swam in and out, and her head was pounding, making processing what she could see difficult.

“Give those back,” Ochako growled as she screwed her eyes shut in pain.

All for One’s expression was neutral when she opened her eyes again.  Ochako shivered under his gaze, but also because of how cold it was wherever they were.  Her costume was built for flight and high-intensity, short-duration combat.  It was not built for long-term exposure to the elements, and Ochako cursed herself for having discouraged Melissa from working on that concept a few months previously.

“You haven’t noticed yet, have you?”  All for One replied quietly.  Ochako blinked a few more times, looking down towards the main source of her pain and the uncomfortable pressure.

Then she gasped when her brain finally processed and accepted that there was half a meter of rebar sticking out of her left thigh.

“F-fuck, I… Did you do that?  What happened?!  I…”  Ochako trailed off as All for One remained impassive.  Ochako's crying intensified as she saw how much blood was soaking her costume at her thigh, and how ripped and damaged it was.

She knew that she needed to get a handle on her panic, but she was increasingly realizing she was going to die in some hole and the last person she was going to see was All for One.  The prospect of losing to him - and letting Nana down - was almost too horrible to consider.  The prospect of dying, possibly alone - or worse, at his hands - was unbearable.

“I… I don’t want to die…”  She whispered, voicing her fear out loud impulsively, and All for One slowly exhaled from his nose.  His breath came out like fog in the frigid air, then her vision was blurry again through tears.

All for One didn’t say anything for a bit, and Ochako wondered if it was all going to be for nothing.  If she had really failed Toshinori, failed to live up to what he had seen in her.  If she had failed their superhuman society, and if All for One would just walk away and really burn everything to the ground once and for all.

She made a promise to Inko that she wouldn’t let her son go on like this, no matter what it took, and she’d failed.

“I can help you, if you promise you won’t try to kill me if I do,” All for One said after a long pause.

Ochako tried to clear her throat but it hurt, and her breathing was getting more ragged the more she panicked.  She realized, distantly, that she was going into shock, and that she needed All for One to do something before she died.  She needed… She needed—

He was important.  You needed him.

Nana’s voice was like a thunderclap in the dark in the back of her mind.  Ochako was almost frightened by it, but it gave her focus.

“Please…”  She gasped out, then her vision went starry and white as she began to tremble.

Ochako didn’t really register anything for a few minutes after that as she shook uncontrollably.  There was… sound and the sensation of being moved gently around.  There was something warm suddenly, behind her, and she felt the warmth wrap around her neck and chest armor for a brief time.  It was the only feeling she could really cling to in her panic, so she did and, after a long time, she began to come back to reality.

Slowly, she realized that the warmth behind her was rising and falling.  She registered that she was leaning against All for One; specifically, she had her head against his upper chest and her back in his lap.  He sat cross legged behind her, with his arms around her front and above her chestpiece.

Ochako looked down and saw that he had propped her feet up on a piece of broken concrete, so she was tilted back into him.  She could feel his shins against the small of her back through her costume, and she brushed his boots when she wiggled her fingers around searchingly.

“What… what are you doing?  D-don’t… don’t touch me,” Ochako said, afraid of what he planned to do.  She tilted her head back and saw that All for One’s expression was pensive.

“First of all, you’ll freeze if I don’t do this,” All for One said matter-of-factly, looking away from her and towards the rest of the room.  “It dropped to negative fifteen degrees while you were out as the weather got worse, and there’s no heat in this space anymore.”  Ochako took a sharp, painful breath.  “Second of all, I already did what I could for your leg, but you need to relax before you have another panic attack and go into shock again.”

“Why?”  Ochako immediately asked, suspicion creeping into her tone.  All for One hummed, deep in his chest, and she felt it against the back of her head.

There was an inherent intimacy and, accordingly, frustration to their position that aggravated Ochako.  She wanted him to let her go, so she could proceed to kick him in the face.  Rebar in her thigh and handcuffs or not, she wasn’t about to be manhandled by her archnemesis.

But part of her, the part that was terrified of dying and leaving her parents behind, of fading away without anyone else in a dark hole, and of failing every promise she’d ever made as a Hero and a person, didn’t want him to ever let go.

“It wouldn’t be interesting if you died like this,” he said after a moment’s pause.  He was a terrible liar, and Ochako narrowed her eyes at him.  “I rather admire you, Uraraka,” All for One continued, surprising her.  Ochako blinked in confusion, then her expression settled into a scowl.

“I don’t care,” she replied after a moment.  All for One did not visibly react with his mask of impassiveness as she looked up at him above her, and he continued to look away.

“I am… very tired,” All for One admitted, his lips curled into the slightest pout.  “I don’t know if I can heal you right now, if I took the spike out of you.  And… I was also hurt.”

Ochako slowly processed that statement, then she couldn’t decide what was more irritating:  the fact that he couldn’t heal her or the fact that she was relying on All for One to heal her.  She saw dark, dried blood on his forehead as well, and remembered him getting cracked in the back of the head by rubble.  She realized that his internal injuries could have been severe… and she suspected he hadn’t healed himself, based on his words.

“What happened, did you get your ass kicked too much by Dynamight?”  Ochako said bitterly, knowing that Bakugou was a sore point for All for One.

She wasn’t precisely sure why.  She never became very good friends with Bakugou at UA, and he never deigned to tell her what the history was between him and All for One.  Nana also never brought it up directly, though she had alluded that Bakugou was important, too, somehow.  Bakugou also didn’t know about One for All, so Ochako had no real way to justify her interest in All for One’s backstory to him.

She did know that Bakugou was always madder than hell whenever he had to fight the archvillain or his henchmen, though.

“No… but I haven’t eaten or slept for three days,” All for One said.  Ochako coughed once in surprise, processing that information, then took note of his dark eyebags now that she was close enough to study his face in detail.

“What do you mean, you haven’t eaten or slept for three days?  You…”  Ochako paused and watched sadness flicker across All for One’s face for a moment.

Depression.

Analysts for the Hero Commission had speculated on All for One’s mental state.  They theorized that he was likely abused in the custody of the original All for One, and he never had a good personal relationship with Shigaraki, even if they worked together to further All for One’s legacy as their own.  Shigaraki was captured and sent to Tartarus along with the remaining high-ranking League of Villains members last year, and it was believed that All for One was operating alone now.

So he wasn’t eating or sleeping anymore, and Ochako was going to bleed out because of it.

“Wonderful,” Ochako said with more than a little rising irritation.  All for One did not immediately reply verbally, but she watched him swallow thickly.  Maybe she wasn’t being fair, but maybe she didn’t care, either.

Nana would’ve wanted her to care but, then again, Nana wasn’t the one who had to physically be present in this wretched place.

He still had his arms around her, threading his fingers together at the collar of her armored chestpiece.  Nothing about his touch was inappropriate or forward, but the inherent discomfort of being as close as she was to her nemesis made Ochako shiver, even with how warm—

Ochako watched his breath go out into the air as fog and realized how cold the room was.  Her feet were so much colder than her upper body, now that she focused on it, and she squinted at the thought.  All for One generated so much warmth, and she wondered if he was using a quirk for that; it certainly felt that way.  She knew that her legs were cold partially from blood loss, and she was glad, at least, that she wasn’t lightheaded anymore thanks to being propped up.

Being thankful for first aid from him was only moderately humiliating.

Looking around, she could now see properly where the hell they were.  They were definitely in a subway tunnel, though it was collapsed on both sides.  Most of the walls were cracked and falling apart, with water dripping from the ceiling and freezing to the ground.  There were only two working lights, one of them flickering.

Ochako realized she had no idea where in the subway system they were, and that digging them out without using blasting or other destructive mechanisms could take days.

“You could have just left me to die,” Ochako said, voicing her final conclusion out loud.  “I would’ve just bled out slowly or froze.  Isn’t that the kind of death you want to give me?”

She glanced back up at All for One to find him grimacing as he looked away.  He seemed… flustered, and all at once Ochako was reminded how she had only turned twenty and so had he, and he seemed so… normal now.

“I could have,” All for One agreed calmly.  He didn’t say anything else, so Ochako growled in frustration.

“Why are you like this?”  Ochako said angrily, before realizing that was a more open-ended question than she really intended it to be.  She felt All for One shifting behind her, though he continued to look away.

“I used to be a normal kid,” All for One admitted in a quiet voice.  “All I ever wanted to do was help people, and all the world ever told me was, ‘you’re not good enough to help people.’  When Father took me, part of me… Part of me was relieved at the idea that maybe I would matter, after all.”

“That’s stupid,” Ochako said, feeling no sympathy whatsoever or, at least, so she told herself.  There was a strangeness to hearing a story she already knew from his actual perspective, though.  “What good does it do to ‘matter’ if all you do is hurt people to get there?”

What good does it do to be important if no one knows the whole truth?  Nana added, words spoken silently into the expanse of Ochako’s mind directly.  All for One, to her immense frustration, chuckled ruefully at her, still looking away.

“What good does it do to want to help people if all they ever do is hurt you?”  All for One replied in a low whisper, and that gave Ochako pause.

Be careful against the boy without a fate, Ochako.  Nana’s voice again, clear and bright and true, cut through Ochako’s irritation. 

She blinked slowly, but All for One made no indication that she had said the words out loud.  Nana used to like to do that - to speak through Ochako to emphasize her points, especially around Toshinori and Sir Nighteye - though she didn’t do it very often anymore.  Not when she had given up hope.

“That’s selfish,” Ochako said after a moment, refocusing on All for One.  “You… you learn to help people, regardless of your own personal desires, because it’s the right thing to do.”

All for One hummed again, and again she felt it on the back of her head through his bodysuit.  It irritated her on a deep, baseline level, as another reminder of the situation she was in.  He was lucky he had handcuffs, and she still had half a mind to knock him in the chin with the top of her head.  Maybe she could get him to bite his own tongue.

“You’re right, but I guess I’m not a good person like you.  Never got that kind of chance, I suppose.”

“You’re just making excuses for yourself,” Ochako countered.  “You helped me, so clearly you have the capacity for it.  You just rationalize the bad things you do for yourself.”

Ochako watched All for One swallow again, tracing the lines on his neck and the movements of his Adam’s apple.  He hadn’t looked at her for what felt like several minutes at this point but, finally, he glanced down.

His eyes were striking this close, deep and bright in their crimson with little flecks of gold and hazel.  It was a false color, his true colors modified and taken by All for One just like the rest of him.  She had seen them in the dreams, in the memories, and in the photographs.  The thought was surprisingly painful to consider.

He was pale and seemed cold in the face, colder than he should have looked for how warm he felt.

“Are you not keeping yourself warm?”  Ochako asked, voicing her suspicion out loud.

“I’m concentrating the warmth in my arms, chest, and legs,” All for One replied shortly, then he looked away again.  It seemed like he didn’t want to look at her but, when he had looked at her, it seemed like he didn’t want to look at anything else.

Ochako said nothing at first.  Instead, she slowly tilted her head forward so that she could drill a hole in the wall with her glare.  She was annoyed, angry, and cold, and looking forward reminded her that there was fucking rebar in her thigh, so she leaned her head back again.

“I hate you,” Ochako said.  It came out with less conviction than she would’ve hoped, given their present predicament, more like a pout than anything, though All for One’s reaction was priceless.

His cheeks were lightly dusted with pink - and there was no hiding it with how pale he was - as he frowned deeply.  It accentuated his freckles as he refused to look at her.  His black hair was matted to his forehead by sweat and blood, so it wasn’t hiding his expression like it normally did… and so he wasn’t safe behind it, like she suspected he usually felt.

He looked, simply put, like she had just kicked his puppy and looked right at him as she did.

“You don’t know anything about me,” All for One said quietly after a moment, and Ochako narrowed her eyes at him.

“You don’t know anything about me, either,” she replied flatly, and All for One actually snorted at her in amusement.

He slowly shifted, a bit more thoroughly this time, and Ochako made a small noise of irritation and pain at how he jostled her.  He unlaced his fingers and gently guided her shoulders into a slightly different position, then he returned his hands and arms to where they were.  In the brief moment in between, Ochako was treated to how frigid the air had gotten, deciding that demanding he move away was distinctly unwise.

“Uraraka Ochako.  Primary quirk:  Zero Gravity.  Doesn’t function how I would expect, relative to physics.  Requires a five-fingered touch, result is that your hands are a vulnerability; you wear advanced armor on your hands to compensate.  Secondary quirk:  One for All.  Super strength, super speed, energy construct attacks called ‘Blackwhip,’ the ability to levitate called ‘Float,’ and an innate, though unstable, ability to detect threats called ‘Danger Sense.’

“Born December 27th, age twenty, stable home, parents still married.  Family struggled with financial issues growing up, resolved to become a Hero to support them.  Met Yagi Toshinori a year before applying for UA and became the Ninth Bearer of One for All.  Motivations have shifted, genuinely enjoys working to save people and even other Heroes, well-regarded among peers and the public, considered the new ‘Symbol of Hope’ by the media.

“Your favorite food is mochi.  Your favorite movie is ‘From the Depths of Dark Water’ by Nakata Hideo, your favorite television show is ‘American Horror Story,’ and you used to be late to class in your first year of UA because you’d accidentally activate your quirk in your sleep.  Your old mittens were threadbare, and when Eraserhead finally confronted you, he had Present Mic knit you a new pair.”

Ochako was speechless.

Her mouth hung open as she stared at All for One, her head tilted comically too far backwards and her bangs swept back.  He turned his head and coughed once awkwardly, before daring to look down at her again.  He was surprisingly red in the face, all things considered.

“It took me two years to break the habit of speaking so quickly I couldn’t be understood when I get into things, after I gained this quirk and took over the League of Villains.  It took me three more years to write an entire notebook’s worth of notes on you, your abilities, and how to defeat you.”  His red eyes were surprisingly intense, and he didn’t seem remorseful at all.  “It was fun and I enjoyed the challenge.  You’re… a good rival to have had.”

“So why haven’t you killed me yet?  If you know all that, you must have had the opportunity.  You could’ve killed me when we met the first time.  You could’ve killed me hundreds of times in the last few minutes,” Ochako said, and she glared daggers at All for One as she recovered her composure.  To her surprise, he kept looking at her.

“You know, one night when you were in your second year at UA, I stood over Katsuki Bakugou’s bed in his dorm room as he slept, and I considered to myself for about twenty minutes how many pieces of him I wanted to leave behind.”

Ochako paled as All for One spoke.  He spoke calmly and in an even voice, as if he were telling her a story about what he had for dinner the day before.  The incongruity of it was almost startling, and she was starkly reminded of how dangerous he really was, contrasted with how… vulnerable and helpless he came across as when he was alone with her in this moment.

Like a lost child in the middle of a murky ocean of death, looking for its mother.

“UA had no idea I was there.  None of the security caught me.  I was finally going to have my revenge on my childhood bully.  The boy who told me I was useless and worthless, that I would never amount to anything and could never be a Hero because I wasn’t lucky enough to be born with a quirk.  The boy who told me I should seek death, so I could chase a better quirk in the next life and be a Hero that way.”  All for One pursed his lips.  “And in the end?  I walked away.”

Ochako blinked slowly at All for One, processing.  So that answered her long-standing questions regarding Bakugou, she supposed, but she wasn’t sure how to react, either to what she had just learned about Bakugou or All for One, for that matter.

He… walked away?

“Why?  Did you forgive him?”  Ochako asked, and she watched All for One’s lips curl into a rather awful, frightening smile for just a moment.  Then his mouth smoothed out into a thin line.

“No.  I did not forgive him.  I hated him so much after my father trained me, and killing him was meant to be the completion of my training.  But my father didn’t understand the conclusions I would draw from his teachings.”

All for One’s eyes flicked away, towards Ochako’s legs - and where the rebar was - before his gaze settled back on her.  He had a degree of conviction in his eyes, his lips pulled taut in a not-quite-frown, but there was hesitation there, too.  She wondered if he was lying, but whether to her or to himself, she couldn't hope to say.

“I realized that it was never really just about Katsuki, was it?  He hated me and he tried to beat me down, but he was only doing what he was told to do by our superhuman society.  Everyone only ever does what they’re told to do, I realized.  Everyone marches to someone else’s drumbeat, even the people who think they’re the drummers.”  All for One paused and cleared his throat.  “So I decided I would not kill Katsuki, and I would not march to my father’s drums anymore.

“My father had been dead for years by that point,” All for One added, seemingly more so to himself, "but I decided he couldn’t control me anymore, even in death.  I still hear him, though.  All for One is a rather inconvenient roommate in my mind.”

Ochako thought about the Vestiges and specifically Nana Shimura, who was the most active of them and often gave Ochako advice or direction.  The Vestiges of One for All were generally kind and helpful people, and they weren’t the worst thing in the world to share her mind with.  Ochako imagined sharing her mind with Hisashi Midoriya, All for One, the man who would be king, and shuddered at the thought.

“My father does not approve,” All for One finished, then he closed his mouth firmly and refocused on Ochako, almost as if he’d said something he didn’t quite intend to.  Ochako raised an eyebrow, trying to puzzle out what that was supposed to mean.

“Approve… of what?”

“…Of anything,” All for One responded, somewhat reluctantly.  “Of what I’ve done with my power, of how I’ve handled my life as the supposed archvillain of Japan, of my being near you at this moment.  He’s screaming at me right now to tear your heart out and reclaim One for All for myself.”

Ochako opened and closed her mouth a few times, then paled.  Eventually, she turned her head away, trying to find something else to look at, instead.

“That’s frightening,” she whispered, being entirely sincere.  It was frightening how normal he could appear, yet how dangerous he really was.  She… she just wanted him to be normal, she realized, and the thought was almost startling.

All for One slowly shrugged, and Ochako rose with the motion and made a small whimper of discomfort at the pain.

“I’m sorry,” he said in response to her pain.  “I wonder if this is what schizophrenic people experience, except I know the voice in my head is real,” All for One added, and Ochako tilted her head back to raise an eyebrow at him.  “You know,” he continued when she did not immediately say anything, “I hated my father.  I hated him when I found out who he was, and I still hated him when he spent three years beating his teachings into me like a weapon being forged.  I still hate him now, and I ignore his crazed ramblings in the back of my mind.”

He paused, glancing away, and the way he looked so small took Ochako’s breath away.  She was reminded of young children trapped in the rubble of collapsed or burning buildings.  His expression was a cry for help.

“It… would be nice if you didn’t call me All for One,” he finished, and Ochako didn’t quite know what to say.  She swallowed and thought very carefully about her response.

Several moments of silence passed as she tried to find the right words.  To her surprise, he looked at her the whole time, and it made finding the right words more difficult, to her confusion and annoyance.  His gaze was piercing and intense, but all she could think about was how it was supposed to be green and not red, and the sheer tragedy of it all.

When she began speaking, she went very slowly, trying to put things together in the right order.

“Akatani Mikumo; given name at birth:  Midoriya Izuku.  You were not born with a quirk.  At age ten, you were… kidnapped, taken away from Midoriya Inko.  She’s still alive, but she had to change her name to avoid the constant hounding for her connection… to you.  Shigaraki Tomura, real name Shimura Tenko, is your adoptive older sibling, though you didn’t ever get along.  He is currently in Tartarus.

“You’ve had no official psychological evaluation or interview with police since you gained All for One as a quirk, but it is speculated that… you have severe clinical depression, and potential psychotic and obsessive tendencies.  You have demonstrated a willingness to kill, though you are considered the more reserved leader of the League of Villains, compared to Shigaraki.

“You… you were…”  Ochako trailed off and, abruptly, she began to cry.

She began to cry, then she slowly began to laugh hysterically and the shaking hurt her body but she didn’t care.  All for One made a noise of confused surprise, but she didn’t care about that, either, as she struggled with what she had realized.  Her laugh turned into a sob, then she yelled in frustration, ignoring how her chest was on fire and her throat felt like a desert.

She realized that she really didn’t know anything about Mikumo Akatani.  She knew a mission profile, certainly, and she knew things about him - metaphysical things, things that might drive her mad if she thought about them too much, things she had constant nightmares about - that she wasn’t supposed to know about him, thanks to Nana.  But she didn’t know anything about him as a person.

Because he wasn’t a person to her until perhaps that very moment, and grappling with the reality and unreality of that conclusion - the tension between All for One, her fated nemesis, and Izuku Midoriya, the little boy snatched away from his home at age ten and turned into a monster named Mikumo Akatani - felt like…

It felt like she was going to lose her mind, right there in the dark.

All for… Akatani pushed her forward by her shoulders, gently but firmly.  Ochako stopped laughing hysterically and just made a long, low pained sound at the motion.  Then she almost fell over when the handcuffs disappeared off her wrists and Akatani stood up.

Her vision swam and went blurry through her tears, but she caught herself on her hands and winced at the soreness.  Her arms had been stuck like that for too long, and she wanted to rub them for the next hour, except she had to keep herself propped up so she wouldn’t bleed out.  She watched Akatani, unfocused, as he walked around.

She brought her right arm up and furiously rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her costume.  Then she gasped in surprise and horror as he atomized the handcuffs on her ankles too.  He threw the little bands for her armor on the ground near her side after that.

“Overhaul,” she whispered, though Akatani didn’t respond.

Instead, he began to walk away towards one side of the subway where there was rubble.  His gait was angry and determined, but she noted that he was limping, favoring his left side.  What she glimpsed of his expression was confusing; she couldn’t tell if he was angry… or just upset.

“What… what are you doing?”  Ochako asked, her voice hoarse, rough from crying and a general lack of water.  Akatani did not turn to look at her as he atomized one of the larger rocks.  That disturbed the pile of rubble and she watched a good sized chunk hit him on the shoulder, though he did not react to it.

He didn’t say anything, either, in response to her.

“Akatani, what are you doing?”

He paused then, as rocks began to roll down the pile of rubble from him disturbing it.  But he didn’t turn his head as he spoke.

“I… I can’t stay in this space with you.  It’s not safe… It’s not safe for either of us.  I don’t want to hurt… I just… I want to get out and leave, and I can’t…”  He trailed off, and she watched his shoulders begin to shake.  He was crying and having a panic attack of his own now, she realized.  Then he began tearing at the rubble again, atomizing larger rocks and pushing smaller ones away by hand.

Ochako grunted in pain and forced herself to shift.  The pain in her leg was horrific but she got her glove links and boot links on, gritting her teeth through tears at how much it hurt to move.  She pressed the buttons, then her arms and legs were enveloped in light.  Then, at least, she had boots and gloves again.

She attempted to stand - which was an awful mistake, as she found out as soon as she tried to put any pressure on her left leg.  She screamed in pain, almost rolling over onto the rebar as the bandage on her leg ran red again and blood pooled slowly onto the ground.

Akatani did not stop what he was doing in response to her scream.  Ochako growled in fury, sorrow, and pain, then she put her hand on her arm.  Her gauntlet’s fingertips retracted and she made herself weightless.  That let her rise up into a reasonable position, where she used Float to stop her momentum.

“Akatani, stop, you’re going to… It’s not stable, you’ll get yourself crushed,” Ochako said, surprising even herself with how genuinely worried she felt and sounded as she attempted to hop over to him on one leg.  It was slow-going without being able to walk properly, even using her quirks to make herself more maneuverable.

“You don’t care,” Akatani replied in a flat, muffled tone.  He wasn’t looking at her and he was still shaking, almost violently now.  She realized he probably wasn’t seeing anything at all, and he may not even have realized who she was anymore.

She thought about his words and wondered:  did he mean that she didn’t care about him, or that no one cared about him?  Because she wasn’t sure he was talking to her specifically at all.  He was a villain - the villain, even, the boogeyman haunting superhuman society - but she realized that he was also someone that no one had ever thought was worth saving.

She made it to him, catching his arm as he almost brained her by mistake.  He was completely out of control, throwing rubble away with reckless abandon now.  One for All flared around her and she forced him to spin around and face her.

“Enough,” she said sharply.  She wasn’t sure what her plan was or what she wanted.  She wanted him to stop, certainly, and… she realized she didn’t want him to hurt himself, either.

A faraway part of her mind asked if she should hug him and never let go, in a voice that didn’t quite sound like her own.

Akatani surprised her by lashing out wildly, trying to bat her away in a daze.  She determined he was definitely having a panic attack.  He wasn’t using his quirk to be stronger - he was just reacting on instinct - so Ochako caught his attack with her other hand.  One for All bathed the room in soft pink light and made the air around them pleasantly warm.

She watched the pink wildfire flutter in Akatani’s eyes.  They were shimmering in his tears and he had a crazed, frustrated look on his face, like he was halfway between absolute anger and an unfocused, confused sorrow.  Like he was one wrong move from falling apart and she was holding him up.  He tried to push her away again, and it was difficult to hold herself in place with Float.

Ochako grunted in annoyance, then reflexively pushed Akatani directly into the wall to their right, back-first, trying to pin him.  It was harder than she intended, the tile cracking from the impact.  It knocked the wind out of him, so he gasped and sank towards the ground in a daze.  She let him go and he fell entirely into a slumped sitting position.

Ochako maneuvered herself so she was next to him with her back to the wall.  Then she released Zero Gravity, keeping herself up with Float, and slowly lowered herself to the floor.  When she was finally situated, she was in incredible pain and breathing heavily from the exertion.  She realized that she needed to keep her legs up, so she swung her ankles over his legs, elevating them again.

“Akatani… Akatani?”  She said, quieter than she really wanted to.  She looked over and realized that he had passed out.

“Akatani!  You can’t… You have to stay awake.  Stay awake!”  Ochako said, her voice rising.  Her eyelids were very heavy as well.

“Akatani… I’m sorry, I… Please, wake up!”  She said, frantic.  She didn’t mean to hurt him.  She didn’t… She didn’t want to be alone.

She kept shaking him until she didn’t have energy anymore.

Then Ochako slumped into Akatani and lost consciousness.

Another dream from Nana, and another one that Ochako has seen before.

Adult Ochako stands in a familiar, partially destroyed underground chamber.  Off to the side at the entrance, little Ochako comes barreling into the room, chasing after Lemillion and struggling to make sure that the worst doesn’t come to pass.  Pink, ethereal fire surrounds her and lights up the corridors as she moves, the power of One for All lighting up the dark.

It is the day of the raid on the Shie Hassaikai, and Ochako has spent the better part of the morning struggling to reach Eri before Overhaul does.  Lemillion ran ahead, heedless of how unwise that was, so Ochako ran ahead, too, blowing through every other villain that got in her way.  They couldn’t hope to stop the Ninth Bearer of One for All, not with how focused she is on saving that little girl.

But as little Ochako walks into the room, adult Ochako watches on as she is not greeted with what she expected.

Little Ochako expected to find Lemillion fighting Overhaul and his guards.  She expected Overhaul to be more than a match for the young Hero, with his immense power and ability to destroy.  She expected to find devastation, a fierce battle, and generally some kind of back and forth still.

She didn’t expect to find All for One, holding Overhaul in the air by his neck and slowly choking the life out of the Yakuza boss.  Overhaul is missing both legs at the shins, and dark crimson splashes onto the ground.

“Oh… Hello, Uravity,” All for One says quietly, turning to look at little Ochako.  Adult Ochako remembers this moment vividly, and the terror, wonder, and awe she felt seeing how powerful All for One really was.

The dream is silent, but she still hears his words sometimes when she has normal nightmares.

“Lemillion already took Eri and ran.  I… suggested that he did not want to be between my quarry and myself,” All for One says, turning back to Overhaul with a blank expression.  Overhaul grips All for One’s wrist, trying to fight back, but…

Nothing is happening.  Little Ochako realizes that Overhaul should have been able to disintegrate All for One, yet nothing is happening.

All for One raises his right hand and she watches his Rivet Stab tendrils form five razor sharp claws on his fingers.  Then, little Ochako gasps and covers her mouth in horror as All for One tears Overhaul's heart right out of his chest, taking his time to do so.  There are spatters of gore as Overhaul gurgles and tries to scream.

Then he is still, and All for One crushes his heart in his hand.  Blood seeps from his fist and spills to the ground.

“Overhaul did not understand what happens when you take children with immense potential and abuse them to fit your vision of the future,” All for One says quietly, turning back to Ochako.  His red eyes are piercing and intense, and behind them, crimson lightning sparks like wildfire.

“You’d do well to remember what happens when you push someone too far… until they break, Uraraka Ochako, the Ninth Bearer of One for All,” he says.  He speaks in a dazed, quiet tone, like he isn’t really seeing or addressing her at all.

Overhaul’s corpse is atomized in All for One’s left hand, exploding into a mere splash of blood into the rest of the room.  All for One drops his hand and Ochako watches the crimson liquid sizzle off of it.

It sizzles as All for One uses Overhaul to clean himself off from Kai Chisaki’s remains.

“Choose your battle wisely, Uravity.  I’ll be seeing you, I’m sure.”

Then All for One walks away as Ochako sinks to her knees.  She is not afraid, because she has long since accepted that she is not yet ready - not yet trained enough - to take on her archnemesis.  She has long since accepted that, for whatever reason, he waits for her to be ready, and the thought that he is so content to wait for that day is alarming in its own right.

But what she does feel is grief.  She feels grief at what the boy before her has become.  She feels her own grief, but more importantly, she feels the grief of Nana Shimura, crashing over her like a tsunami, as she reckons with what has been lost.

As Nana Shimura reckons with what has been taken from her by All for One, another stab wound in the heart of a guardian angel, and proof that angels can fall, too, as Ochako feels Nana lose hope.

Chapter Text

Screaming.

Someone is screaming, yelling, pounding; it sounds like pounding on glass, shattering slowly, like someone is taking their sweet time to break a window centimeter by centimeter.  But they are pounding, pounding, pounding, and it grates against his mind and against the fabric of reality itself, why is it so loud?

Then a more familiar voice:  Father.

You should learn to mind your betters, insolent child.  You can deny me for as long as you like, but I am inevitability.

But he can’t hear Father very well over the pound, pound, pound.  It’s distant, muted, muffled, yet it’s also right in his ears.  Usually, his vivid, lucid dreams are silent, save for Father’s thoughts mixing with his own in the infinite blackness, but tonight the pounding is loud.

Sometimes he can hear the pounding when he’s awake, and it’s always accompanied by a woman’s voice.  She is so anguished, and her voice is like horror and agony as she screams—

“She was important!  You needed her!”

But it’s so far away, and he wonders, why?  Why can he hear her so clearly, when the dream is so silent?  How could she have been important to him, when he doesn’t know who she is?  She says ‘she,’ so maybe it’s another she?  The world is upside down and inside out, and his thought before waking up is:

I wonder if I am always dreaming, or if the dreams that don’t feel like dreams are the memories I missed.

Mikumo woke up and groaned.

His whole body hurt like he’d been through a tumble dryer, but that really wasn’t anything new.  Groggily, he reached up to his head with his red gloved hand and found dried blood; he was hurt?  No, he remembered:  he had been hurt, but that was a few hours ago.

He checked his holographic watch built into his suit.  It was half-past one in the afternoon now, but it had been… twelve?  Eleven-thirty?  When he woke the first time.

He didn’t wake up alone.  The thought was sharp and quick, and he turned to find Uraraka, passed out and with her legs propped on his own.  She was bleeding slowly, and his eyes went wide at the sight.  How long had he been asleep?

Mikumo grit his teeth.  He had to heal her now, there was no other option.  It was almost certainly going to make him sick, and in his… He panicked, he remembered now.  He had a panic attack and destroyed the quirk-suppressing handcuffs, so now it was even more dangerous.  If he healed her, even in her weakened state, she could almost certainly kill him or, at least, restrain him.

He wasn’t quite precisely sure which would be worse.  Death was scary, in a distant, theoretical sense; spending eternity in Tartarus, on the other hand… was possibly even less appealing.

Death, at least, would stop the voice from his Father.  Would that be the worst thing in the world?  He wasn’t convinced it would be, but then, he’d always had terrible intrusive thoughts since his Father whisked him away to be his successor.

To be his new vessel, when Tomura proved to be too wild and full of hate to be controlled properly.  Father had complained secretly to Mikumo that Tomura’s hate was too much like wildfire, without direction or purpose.  Mikumo’s hate, by contrast, was like a sharpened sword, polished and focused, so he had been chosen as the successor, instead.

Tomura never got over that.  They were trained, beaten, and molded into shape together, they had their names and appearances taken and replaced, and now they were supposed to be the ones who watched the world burn in Father’s stead.

His only real failure, truly, had been his miscalculations.  He had believed that Tomura and Mikumo were too powerful for the Heroes to hope to challenge them, yet Tomura now sat in Tartarus for eternity.

And he had believed that Mikumo would be an easy will to break.  If his pathetic elementary school bullies, as Father called them, could break Mikumo, why couldn’t Father, too?  It should have been easy, yet Mikumo’s will was far stronger than Father had really anticipated, even if it degraded over time as Mikumo held his father’s Vestige back.

Giving Mikumo All for One was one of the more entertaining mistakes Father ever made - right behind allowing Mikumo to design his own villain outfit, with him choosing to use his imagined Hero costume from childhood as a base out of spite - and it ended poorly for him.

Mostly.  The Vestige of All for One followed Mikumo around all the time now and waited for just the right moment to strike like an eternal, inky black shadow on the face of his world.  Between his pre-existing mental health issues and All for One trying to possess him with his haunted quirk, Mikumo didn’t sleep or eat very much, basically just enough to keep functioning.

But… that was fine.  Little Izuku Midoriya was dead - murdered, perhaps - and in his place stood Mikumo Akatani.  Just as little Tenko Shimura had been murdered, taken, destroyed and left only Tomura Shigaraki and, together, they had been the men who would be kings.

Now, Mikumo was alone.  Except, perhaps, for Uraraka, as he looked at the rebar in her leg and winced.

He should let her die.  He should’ve let her die before.  She was the Ninth Bearer of One for All and it was her duty - her destiny, even, Sir Nighteye probably would say - to kill Mikumo Akatani, All for One, and the man who would be king.  Mikumo squinted around at the dark hole they were stuck in and, for a moment, he heard the pounding again.

You don’t have to be the man who would be king, Izuku.  Please… You needed her… Help her!

Mikumo blinked slowly at the darkness, thinking about why that voice seemed so familiar, like a phantom memory he could never reach, yet he had never heard her in his life.  Who was she… and why was she important?

Why did he need her?

No matter.  

His hand hovered around the rebar in Uraraka’s leg, centimeters from contact, and he hesitated.  It would be easy to kill her, and he could kill her painfully.  To use his strength to tear the metal from her skin and watch her bleed out, then she would die with eyes wide open as she watched All for One watch her die.  But that was… He didn’t want to do that.

Of course, Father had his opinions—

Kill her now.  Accept your birthright.

—but that was a secondary concern.  Ochako Uraraka was one of the singularly most heroic and kindhearted people Mikumo had ever had the privilege of knowing, and his only regret was that she only knew him as the devil she played angel to.  She was thoughtful and hard-working, she had saved countless people as the Ninth Bearer of One for All, and she was beautiful—

That was not a relevant thought, so he slammed the door on it.

He took a deep breath and clenched his teeth.  This would be unpleasant for her.

He closed his grip around the rebar.

Turning his head, Mikumo watched Uraraka’s eyes fly open, and she hissed out a long, incoherent sound of pain that turned into a groan.  She glared at him, now wide awake, and he let out the breath he was holding.

“This is not going to be pleasant,” Mikumo said matter-of-factly, largely for her benefit.  Her eyes went even wider as she caught up with the reality that he had his hand on the rebar and seemed to be about to really hurt her.  She opened her mouth, probably to protest or maybe even beg for mercy, and Mikumo did not ever want to hear Ochako Uraraka beg for mercy—

That is your destiny as All for One, to hear One for All beg.

—so, before she could say anything, he disintegrated the rebar with Overhaul.  Her words died in a sharp gasp - the effect was probably very painful as her body abruptly adjusted for the removal of the rebar’s mass in her thigh - and he set his fingers down around the hole in her thigh.  There was a glow, red and green mixed together like Christmas, except this wasn’t a present anyone would really want, and the wound closed.

Healing people with All for One was not a nice feeling.  It didn’t hurt, necessarily, but it made one’s skin crawl, like awful little spider legs dancing on the surface.  Most of the time, he was too out of it - too injured - to really care, but from the disgusted look on her face, it was all she could feel at the moment.

Mikumo frowned at her, trying to be apologetic - he wasn’t used to doing ‘normal people’ expressions anymore - and she just stared at him with huge eyes and mute horror.

He looked down at her thigh again.  It wasn’t a pretty job - there would be an unpleasant scar where the entrance and exit wounds had been - but it was done, at least.  She would probably need to be checked for internal damage - he healed her ribs the best he could at the same time as her thigh and he was working blind on that - but it was what he could do for that moment.

Mikumo withdrew his hand and tried to stand up.  He got halfway there, then promptly fell over as his body gave out from exhaustion.  He only barely caught himself with one hand, and he was very close to losing what little was in his stomach.  Pain shot up his arm when his hand hit the ground, but he grit his teeth and tried to ignore how his whole body hurt.

“A-akatani?”  Uraraka stuttered, roused from her shock by his movement.  Mikumo couldn’t quite stifle the chuckle that left his lips.  It was still funny to hear her use his name, even if it wasn’t the name he really wanted her to use.  He thought about how nice it would be to hear her call him ‘Mikumo,’ then banished the thought just as quickly.  “I thought you said you couldn’t do it…”

“I probably didn’t,” Mikumo admitted, watching his world spin as he stared holes in the floor.  “You need to see a doctor, eventually.  But you won’t die from blood loss anymore… hopefully.”

That last word he said under his breath, thinking she wouldn’t catch it.  But it was quiet in the tunnel, save for the drip, drip, drip of a leaking pipe, and he looked over through his hair and saw she was frowning at him now.  He blew on his hair, trying to get it out of his face, and it didn’t work.

Accepting defeat and his own feeling of being absolutely pathetic in that moment, he elected to just… collapse and embrace the chill of the air.

“You can’t stay like that,” Uraraka pointed out, entirely correct.  “You’ll freeze.”

“‘S alright, I’ll just… deal,” Mikumo replied, feeling stubborn.  He helped her because she was worth helping.  He wasn’t worth helping, so he would try and wave her off.

That was the way the world worked.  Other people had always been worth helping - it was why he wanted to be a Hero, or so he told himself - but never him.  He was the worthless, useless Deku, a name and memory engraved in his mind like a brand.

Nobody ever came to save him when he needed it.

Mikumo closed his eyes, trying to feel content.  It was hard when the ground was uncomfortable slightly damp, and more importantly, frigid.  His eyes flew open when he felt a sudden warmth near him, so familiar that it shocked him out of his daze.  He realized that One for All was sparking bright pink around him, because Uraraka had picked him up by the back of his collar like a cat.

“Don’t be stupid,” Uraraka said flatly.  She began to carry him back towards the platform, where the ground was more even and flat, because the ceiling hadn’t collapsed as badly over there.  Mikumo grunted out a protest but nothing that could pass for coherent language, and by the time he tried flailing, she had him at the edge.  He grabbed the edge with his hands and hoisted himself up.

A moment later, Uraraka also hopped up.  She almost fell over, her leg and body still weak, and he caught her shoulder to steady her.  She hesitated like that, turning to look at him with an indecipherable expression through her bangs, then he let go like he’d been burned.

“S-sorry…”  He mumbled, and she blinked slowly at him.  He was such an idiot.  He’d never been good at reading her, but this was the last context he’d expected it to matter in.

It was so much easier when she was trying to kill him.  All was right in the world then, or so he had believed.  But there was the pounding again, and Mikumo took two steps before the voice returned and she screamed in his mind—

You needed her, Izuku.  And… you needed me.  So I helped you.  We chose you.  Don’t forget, now.

He stopped and furrowed his brows, not understanding.  Then he turned back to Uraraka, only to find her looking right at him with wide eyes and a pale face, like he had stepped out of an open grave as a ghost.  Her expression slowly shifted, becoming questioning as she arched her brow, and Mikumo wasn’t really sure what to say at all.  He decided there was nothing to be said, so he didn’t.

Mikumo began to walk towards a little hallway, planning to collapse against the wall, sink to the ground, and will the earth to swallow him.  He was tired, and he just needed to rest and hope that somehow he would figure a way out of all this.  Preferably without dying, going to jail, or having to kill or hurt Uraraka; that was his rough descending priority list, at any rate.

“Have you ever wondered if there was something off with the world, Izuku?”  Uraraka whispered in a voice that didn’t quite sound right, and he stopped dead again, feeling like he was suddenly in a haze.

“I… What?”  He said, feeling the sting of a phantom memory that wasn’t his at all, but Uraraka just looked at him like she hadn’t said anything, as if daring him to challenge her on that.  Then she brushed past him, walking towards where he had been walking towards, and he stared after her in awe, wonder, confusion, and horror.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do in this situation.  Not what he was ‘supposed to’ do, or what Father wanted him to do—

You should take back what is yours.

—but what he wanted to do.  He knew there were things that he wished he could say - how he didn’t want to fight, how he didn’t want to run, how he wished that he and Uraraka could be friends, and how he wished he could have been normal - but it was too late for that.

It was too late for little Izuku, so only Mikumo remained.

Uraraka sank to the ground and pulled her knees up, then he realized she was crying.  He didn’t understand why - he didn’t understand her reactions in general to him, especially in the last few hours - but he felt an instinctual urge to help.  He was, on balance, the worst person to help, but there was no other choice, was there?

He sat down slowly next to her, biting back a groan at how much everything ached as he pulled his legs close to himself.  She glared at him from the corner of her eye, but it was more like she was looking through him, so he was silent for a moment.  He pursed his lips, thinking carefully.

Mikumo had never been good with other people, even when he was little Izuku, the quirkless boy who wanted to be a Hero.  He’d never gone on a date, he hadn’t hung out with any friends in a way that didn’t involve bullying since he was at least five or six, and he didn’t have any real social skills.  All of his socialization since he’d turned ten was with villains.  With people like Tomura, Kurogiri, Chizome, or Shuichi, who were now all in jail.

He was all alone in the world, and the thought hit him like a train as he looked at Uraraka and searched for the right words to say, knowing he probably wouldn’t find them.  After all, he never could find them before, when it had mattered… When it had meant the whole world.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, and it seemed to surprise her because she blinked in confusion.  “I’m sorry for all of it.  I wish I had gotten a choice.  I wouldn’t… have chosen this.”

“I know you wouldn’t have,” Uraraka whispered, and now it was his turn to be confused.  “But you don’t really know it.  Not like you should.  Not yet, anyway.”

There was a long silence as he stared at her in bemusement, and she stared back at him with blurry eyes and a simmering anger.  He couldn’t tell what she was angry at.  Was she angry at him, at the world, or at something else he didn’t understand and couldn’t ever hope to understand?  He understood they were having more than one conversation, even if he only knew about the one, and maybe he would never truly understand at all.

Sometimes not understanding frustrated Mikumo, on a deep, metaphysical level.  He didn’t understand why he was mocked, beaten, and looked down upon for wanting to be a Hero, he didn’t understand why he was taken and molded into the archvillain of Japan, and he didn’t understand why it felt like no one else cared.  But then… he did understand, he supposed, even if he was in denial about it.

He understood that he had wanted to be a Hero not merely to help others, but also because it was the only way he felt he would ever matter to their superhuman society.  He understood that he was taken because of an accident of birth and circumstance, but to others, it was simply inevitable:  of course the son of All for One would become All for One, because villains were villains and that reality was stark and black and white.  He understood that no one cared, because the expected outcome had occurred.

All was right in the world, so there was nothing to see and nothing to be concerned about.  Mikumo Akatani was inevitable, just as his father said—

“No.”

Mikumo was startled, then he realized he had muttered all of that out loud.  He turned to look at Uraraka and saw that One for All was flaring around her like a soft pink candlelight in the dark.

“No, it was not inevitable, Akatani.  It was not inevitable that you would become All for One.  It was not inevitable that you would become a villain.  It was not inevitable that people would think you were ‘worthless’ or ‘useless’ for your whole life.  It was…”  She trailed off for a moment as Mikumo began to cry.  “You would have been a great Hero, I… I’m so sorry…”

“How can you possibly know that?”  Mikumo whispered back, and he was surprised when she laughed.

“Because I’ve seen it.  You should have been a Hero.”  She stared intently at him, heedless of the tears tracking down their faces in the dark.  Their eyes glowed by the pink of One for All, tears glinting off the fire, and a phantom memory asked him:  is it meant to be pink, or is it meant to be green, Deku?  But the thought was hysterical and nonsensical, and Mikumo sobbed because he didn't understand, but he felt like he should have.  “You… you were supposed to be so amazing, I wish I could express to you how much it would’ve been… You were supposed to be my friend, I’m so sorry…”

And there was an incongruity to that, the way that what she said was nonsense, yet it felt so utterly, metaphysically true that he just sobbed again, smiling like a crazy person.  He and Uraraka should have been friends, and she had said it, and he realized:

He’d never had a normal friend before, and he may never have a normal friend again, but maybe tonight…

“Would you still like to be my friend?”  Mikumo whispered, and Uraraka laughed again, a wet and giggly thing, looking at him like a small child she was afraid would break at any moment.  Maybe he was, he wasn’t sure.

“I… don’t know,” she replied.  He looked away into the dark.  It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but… he understood that, too.  He nodded, mostly for himself, and began to chuckle… or maybe he was just crying as tears dripped onto his costume.

He realized - remembered - that he was freezing, and the warmth of One for All was the only thing to cling to in that moment, because he didn’t have the strength to keep himself warm anymore.  He leaned over a little bit, trying to get at that warmth, and he wanted to laugh at the cruel irony of it all.

Uraraka cleared her throat, and he realized he had leaned right into her.

“I’m cold,” Mikumo admitted, feeling entirely foolish.  He refused to look at her, sure that he was blushing like a fool.  She grunted at him, an acknowledgement, but didn’t make him move.

“I suppose you kept me warm, too,” Uraraka said, and Mikumo laughed as he tried to wipe off his face with the heel of his gloved hand.  He felt her shifting, then she spoke again, “I’m going to activate my emergency beacon, and hopefully they’ll be able to dig us out.”

That was a sobering statement.  Mikumo forced himself to recover, forced himself to push down his moment of vulnerability and emotional availability and become closed and distant again.  It was a familiar act, and it was often the only thing that kept him going anymore.  He sighed, not sure if he wanted to argue or not.

“You know, I can’t just… let them arrest me,” Mikumo pointed out, as if she wouldn’t be the one arresting him when the time came.  He adjusted his sitting position and blindly pawed around in his belt until he pulled out a pair of small plastic-wrapped rectangles.  “I have two of these little ration bar things, if you’d like one while we wait.”

Uraraka snorted at him, then accepted one of the bars from his hand.  He dared to sneak a glance at her, and she was smiling, though it was a slightly rueful expression.

They tore open the packages almost in unison, then both of them stared at the moderately unappetizing-looking things for a moment.  They had gotten slightly squashed during the fall, so they were crumbly, but food was food in a survival situation.  Mikumo went to take a bite of his, but Uraraka whispered something as he did.

“To the friendships we missed out on,” she said in a voice meant for him not to hear.  He paused, the food between his teeth, and eyed her cautiously.  She looked right back at him and didn’t take it back, so he crunched down and accepted things for what they were.

He was always accepting things for what they were, because the world never cared what he wanted for himself.

They ate in a reasonably comfortable silence, all things considered.  The absurdity of it was almost astounding to him:  All for One and One for All, sitting in a hole and eating half-destroyed granola bars, hoping they would be rescued before they starved or froze to death.  Mikumo wasn’t sure if he believed in fate—

Your fate is to watch the world burn, so that you can sit upon the ashes like a throne.

—but if there was such a thing, it was funny in a way.  He had always wanted to talk to Sir Nighteye and ask him things.  What did Sir Nighteye think about ‘fate,’ in a metaphysical sense?  Did Sir Nighteye believe in any gods?  What would Sir Nighteye say about this moment?

Then again, he was one of the ones who trained Uraraka.  Perhaps he had already seen this moment.  Mikumo wanted so badly to know the answer to that question, but alas, his time as someone who could be enamored with Heroes had long since passed.

That world had been denied to him, so here he was.

“Mirai said that I couldn’t fight fate,” Uraraka said, breaking his reverie.  He turned and blinked owlishly at her, though she did not look remorseful at all.  “You still mutter to yourself when you’re nervous.  It’s… endearing,” she added, and he felt heat rise in his face.

“Right… but what about that first part?”  He said, trying to save himself from his own mortification.

“He said I can’t fight fate,” Uraraka repeated, then she shrugged and took another bite.  There was a pause, and Mikumo found himself enraptured just in watching her eat.  That was sad, but for the boy who had not had any positive contact with other people in a decade, the sheer normalcy of this moment was almost too much.  “But I don’t know if he really understands what fate actually is, sometimes.”

Mikumo raised an eyebrow, inviting her to continue.  She took another bite and chewed before indulging him.

“He thinks the future is already written, and maybe he’s right.  He doesn’t see how the past matters, too, how the past changes the future before it’s ever written, and he doesn’t see how memories are a weapon.”  She looked at him pointedly at that last part, as if he should understand the significance of it.  He did not, though, instead feeling a bit lost.  “A memory is just a future that already happened, though past, present, and future are relative terms for an absolute truth.”

She spoke in that particular tone that one would use to recite memorized facts from a textbook, as if those were words she had heard repeatedly for years.  Mikumo smoothed out his expression, deciding to try his luck.  Maybe he could get an answer, for once.

“Who told you that?”  He asked, and Uraraka looked at him sardonically as she took another bite and chewed.

“Shimura Nana,” she replied matter-of-factly.  Mikumo furrowed his brows again, not understanding.

“Shimura Nana died before we were born,” he pointed out.  Uraraka just looked at him like he was a total idiot in that particular moment, or maybe, like there was a joke he wasn’t in on.

“I am aware,” Uraraka replied.  Mikumo looked at her for a few more moments, before conceding defeat.  Then he turned away and ate some more of his own food, frustrated at how cryptic she was being.  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.  You’d have to see it for yourself.”

He didn’t say anything right away.  He was mostly processing her words, though he also spent some time eating.  She finished her little protein bar first and balled up the wrapper.  He watched her, from the corner of his eye as she crushed the plastic and clenched her fist on it.  Then, after some hesitation, she threw it with a little flick of her wrist and it went about a meter before it pathetically fluttered to the ground.

He watched it and giggled, just once, at the minor transgression of it:  to be able to litter, here in the privacy of this dark hole.  ‘Everyone marches to someone else’s drumbeat, even the people who think they’re the drummers.’  Everyone was always putting on a performance, following the rules set out for them by others, no matter how strong they thought they were.  But not here, in this dark hole.

Uraraka giggled once, too, but then she sighed and he was hyper-aware of how tired he was, and she probably was, too, and how dreadful this whole thing was.

“What’s your favorite color?”  She blurted out, and he hesitated.  He wasn’t sure whether he hesitated because he didn’t want to answer or because he didn’t remember the answer anymore.

“…Red,” he admitted cautiously, after more than a little consideration.  He turned to her and she seemed genuinely a bit shocked.

“Red?”  She asked, as if that was a complete thought and he could read her mind.  As if they were on the same wavelength or, perhaps, as if they should have been.  “I’m surprised it’s not green,” she clarified after a moment.  He just shrugged.

“When I was little, I had these preposterous red shoes.  I wore them everywhere, even with my school uniform.  I looked ridiculous.”  She giggled at him and he felt his cheeks grow a bit warmer, but he still smiled.  “I wore them because it was just a little piece of me, something that defined me and was different from everyone else.  Kacch— Katsuki hated those shoes… He used to give me so much grief for how awful they looked.”

There was a long, sobering silence before Uraraka spoke again.

“I’ve seen the shoes,” she admitted softly.  “They were cute.  Fuck Bakugou, honestly.”

And he laughed because it was what he wanted to hear.  Maybe they were on the same wavelength after all.

“What’s your favorite color?”  He asked, and she hummed in thought.  He turned his head and saw that she was now staring at the ceiling, so he took his last bite of his own protein bar and threw the wrapper vaguely to the side.

“Pink, I think,” Uraraka said.  “I really do like the color.  I think I got lucky that One for All came out that way.”

Mikumo chuckled, not really believing that was luck at all.

“I think One for All just decided to conform to your desires,” he said.  She hummed again, not agreeing or disagreeing, and dropped her gaze back to him.  “Do you ever regret it?”

“Regret what?”  She asked as she stretched her arm to the side, and he would have sworn he didn’t follow the movement with his eyes before darting his gaze partially away again.

“Becoming the Ninth Bearer,” he said matter-of-factly.  She rolled her shoulder around before replying.

“I don’t think so… Not when Nana pushed so hard for me, anyway,” she said, and he raised a confused eyebrow.  She didn’t clarify, however.  “I’ve helped a lot of people.  I came into my own.  I grew up poor… Well.”  She paused and turned to him with a slightly severe, albeit sarcastic, expression of disbelief.  He withered under it and turned away, biting his lip to suppress a smile.  “You already know this story, mister.  Why should I tell you all over again?”

“What if I just want to listen to you tell it?”  He asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could slam the door on his own stupid thoughts.  His eyes went wide and he looked back at her in horror.  He did not mean to throw that kind of idea out into the open.  “Er… Never mind, I’m sorry, you don’t—”

Uraraka cleared her throat and he went silent.

“I used to think that I did this to see people’s smiles,” she said.  He perked up; he didn’t know this part, not properly, anyway.  Her motivations - the finer details - had always been a mystery to him.  “I wanted to see my parents smile, at first.  Then I expanded my horizons as I grew as a Hero.”

She looked out into the dark, pensive and with furrowed eyebrows.  She was so beautiful, he was struck by, and part of him hated that.  He hated that he noticed it, that he knew it.  He hated that it didn’t matter, and that he could never have something like that.  Not that she was a ‘thing,’ something to have; not to have her but to have…

Love.

She didn’t say anything, so he could only pray he didn’t say all that out loud.

“When we… saved Eri,” she began again, and she turned back to him with a knowing look.  He didn’t think he really deserved any credit for that, on balance… but killing Overhaul had felt good.  “I began to think about what ‘saving people’ meant.  I thought about what it was like to be a person who had never smiled.  To be someone who had their smile taken away from them."

She stared at her fist and clenched it for a moment, and he stared at it, too, enraptured by it, and her, and what she was saying, and all that she was.

“I realized that there was so much more to saving people with a smile than I used to think.  All Might always thought things were simple.  That he would be a Symbol for people to look to, and that, through such, he could maintain peace.  But I began to wonder if he ever really understood what Nana wanted him to see, and if he ever really understood the way the world works.  I wondered if he understood hope.”

“He didn’t,” Mikumo said flatly, but he smiled.  He still remembered how much he had loved All Might… Part of him still did, if he was being honest.  He still had the last All Might figure that his mother gave him, tucked away in one of his little safehouses he used.  Father had destroyed anything All Might-related he found, and Tomura hated All Might, but Mikumo preserved one little piece, just for himself.  “But he tried,” Mikumo finished, and he smiled a little more brightly at Uraraka.

She smiled back, and it was a small, intimate thing.

“So I realized that… maybe I can’t be a Symbol at all,” Uraraka admitted calmly.  “Maybe it’s not about symbolism at all.  People need something real.  They need something to hold on to, as much as they need something to believe in.  Little Eri deserved so much better, and we gave that smile back to her, but… saving hearts is easier said than done, Akatani.”

“I’m glad she’s alright, at least,” Mikumo said, though he knew that much without being told.  He had monitored Eri for a while after that day, and claimed to Tomura that it was because he wanted to know what made her so important.  That was a lie.  He already knew what her quirk was and what Overhaul had done to her.  He just wanted to make sure she smiled again… and she did.

Because Uraraka, Togata, and other good Heroes like them helped her.  Not because of anything he did.

“She still dreams about you sometimes, you know that?”  Uraraka whispered, and Mikumo was startled.  He refocused on her, an unspoken invitation to continue hanging in the air between them, and she sighed.  “You were supposed to be there, but not the way you were there.”

Mikumo blinked slowly, not understanding at all.  Uraraka just smiled and looked back towards the blackness around them, her light and warmth in the soft pink glow of One for All contrasting so sharply with the infinity surrounding them.

“I don’t understand,” Mikumo admitted out loud, hoping maybe that would get him answers.

“I know,” she said immediately, though not sharply.  She sounded so sad.  “I wish I had understood sooner, or maybe that I had been there to protect you… and I wish I could make you understand, too.”

There was the pounding again, and the woman’s voice, but she sounded so much closer—

She was important.  You needed her.

You don’t need anyone.

Mikumo sighed, feeling like there was an internal conflict surrounding him in the endless void of All for One that he couldn’t hope to understand, let alone participate in.  It took everything he had in him to make sure that he stayed him, to keep the vestige of All for One at bay and remain Mikumo Akatani, a moderately sinister villain who did bad things for questionable reasons.  It was better that way, because the world would shudder in the face of All for One, the man who would be king, who would do horrific things for horrific reasons.

“The man who would be king,” Uraraka whispered, and Mikumo hummed questioningly, now accepting in stride that he had been muttering again.  “You said, ‘the man who would be king.’  Why?”

Mikumo thought about it for a moment, struggling for words.  Why… why did he think of it that way?  It seemed like a fitting metaphor, and it was what he’d always thought about Father, as far back as he could remember, anyway.  Unable to put to words his swirling, confused thoughts, he just shrugged helplessly.

“That’s what Nana calls him,” Uraraka said, and Mikumo tilted his head in complete confusion.

“Does One for All also have Vestiges?”  He asked, now entirely curious.  He knew so little about One for All as a quirk past what he could directly, physically observe.  He didn’t expect Uraraka to actually tell him anything about it, however.  She pursed her lips carefully before replying, probably weighing the pros and cons of that exact thought.

“It does.  You’d be surprised how active they can be, for people who are supposed to be dead.”

“Even All Might?”  Mikumo asked, now fully in analysis mode.  He cursed the fact he didn’t have a notebook to write in.  Uraraka made a little noncommittal waving motion with a flat hand, as if to say ‘kind of.’

“All Might is still alive,” Uraraka pointed out.  “He’s there, but he can’t talk.  He was never one for the… metaphysical aspects, I suppose.”

“And you are?”  Mikumo asked.  He didn’t mean for it to sound like a thinly-veiled insult, but Uraraka still scowled at him and he cringed a bit accordingly.

“More than I’d like to be,” she said cryptically after a moment, and he frowned.  He opened his mouth, planning to say… something.  He wasn’t sure what.  Part of him wanted to ask her about the pounding and the voice, and if that had to with Nana, or why he could hear her at all—

But then there was a boom and the whole world shook.  Uraraka blindly threw her hand out and grabbed Mikumo defensively, while he yelped in surprise as everything felt like it was falling apart.

“What the hell…?”  Uraraka muttered as she released him, and Mikumo couldn’t help but agree as he groaned.  The shaking stopped after a moment, then they shared a look, eyes locking in realization.  “My emergency beacon…”

“They’re trying to blast through,” Mikumo concluded, and Uraraka frowned.

“It’s not… It isn’t safe to blast though, they could kill us…”  She said.  He just laughed at her and she frowned more.  He would say that he felt bad… but he didn’t.

“I told you:  they don’t respect you.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, I do,” Mikumo said, and Uraraka’s look of absolute disbelief was only a little bit saddening.  “Look, the best we can do is… scoot into that corner over there and hope that nothing falls on us, I guess,” he added, gesturing with one hand over to the end of the hallway, where more rubble was blocking.

There was a big, sturdy rock there, thoroughly wedged in, and it wouldn’t be moving any time soon.  Uraraka hesitated, so Mikumo got up first and walked a few meters over.  Then he plopped back down and shivered because wow, when he moved away from the low intensity of One for All it was cold, so he frowned at his own foolishness.

Uraraka took her sweet time joining him, though blessedly at least she brought warmth with her.  The warmth of One for All felt almost impossible, like he wasn’t just feeling it through his clothes and skin but in his soul.  Like it was a hug in the shape of fire, made of pure love.  The thoughts were ridiculous, yet as soon as Uraraka made herself comfortable, Mikumo huddled close to her.

“Excuse me,” she said sarcastically, and he shrank away.  She stared at him for a moment, her knees drawn close in just like he had his knees, then she laughed at him.  He pouted as he realized she was messing with him, but at the same time…

It was nice.  It was something like friendship, even if it was just skirting the edges of it.

He huddled back close and didn’t even realize that he fell asleep like that, his head resting gently on her shoulder.

He didn’t feel how she brushed his hair out of his face in his sleep.

He dreams.

In his dreams, he is not Mikumo Akatani, All for One, the most powerful villain on the planet.  He is little Izuku Midoriya, quirkless, powerless, wearing a yellow t-shirt and dark-colored cargo shorts, with his tiny red shoes.  He is standing in front of little Kacchan and his friends on the playground again as they prepare to beat him up, but suddenly, they aren’t Kacchan and his friends anymore.

They are All for One, Father, and his twisted Nomu now.  Gigantomachia looms large in the background, judging little Izuku from afar.  In reality, he judged Mikumo to be worthy.  Here, little Izuku is not even worth consideration.  He never was to anyone else, after all.

All he ever was was ‘Deku.’

Your continued insolence and refusal to listen to me will do you no good, Mikumo.

The dream is silent, but All for One’s inner thoughts echo through infinity, so little Izuku cowers away.  This is his dream, his mind, and his will, but All for One is powerful, dangerous, and frightening, and little Izuku is terrified because there is no All Might coming to protect him.  No one is coming to protect little Izuku, to save him with a smile and show him that he, too, can be a Hero.

He is alone, and he cries as All for One advances on him, tears rolling down his cheeks like ocean waves.

You will listen to me, sooner or later.  You can only stave off the inevitable for so long.

All for One advances, his Nomus following like rabid dogs.  Saliva drips from their rancid jaws as they prepare to feast along with their master.

Abruptly, there is a crash, like someone has shattered a window open nearby.  Close nearby, like it is right in Izuku’s ear, and he looks around, confused.  It is like someone was taking their sweet time to break a window centimeter by centimeter… and now, they succeeded.

“Izuku!”

And he hears the voice, the only sound in this playground surrounded by an endless black, and All for One recoils as if he has been struck.

The woman screams, and he realizes:  she sounds like Ochako now, yet not, at the same time.  It is as if Ochako is speaking but others are speaking with her.  Like nine voices in the dark, but Ochako is the loudest and she screams:

“Izuku… You can be a Hero, too!  All you have to do is believe in yourself!”

Little Izuku begins to cry, but they’re tears of joy because he’s always wanted someone to tell him that.  He always wanted someone to believe in him, so that he could believe in himself.  He always wanted someone to tell him he could be a Hero.

“I wanted you to remember that it’s never too late to be a Hero.”

Little Izuku is crying so much and he’s so happy, then he feels the woman hug him.  And it’s Ochako and it’s others, too, and it’s everything he’s ever wanted.  All he ever wanted was for someone to tell him that he was wanted, that he was needed—

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you, little Izuku.  But I want you to know that you are important.  I needed you… and I miss you.”

Little Izuku can’t see anymore.  But he feels it - he feels All for One retracting slowly, retreating into the inky black darkness and leaving only this warmth - and he feels so safe.  He feels so safe and loved, for the first time in years, and he wonders:

Can this feeling just never end?  Please… don’t leave me…

He wakes up then, when there’s a sharp rumbling, and it’s the most disappointed that he’s ever been in his entire life.  But he wakes up next to Uraraka, sleeping soundly with a smile on her face, like she’s having the most beautiful dream, too, and he wonders if maybe it wasn’t entirely a dream, after all.

Chapter Text

When Mikumo woke up, it felt like the whole world was shaking.

Then it stopped, all at once.  He looked around in a daze, not quite all the way awake yet and finding mostly darkness, anyway.  He blinked quickly, trying to adjust, and largely failed.  Then he turned and looked at Uraraka, finding her sleeping soundly.

She had the smallest, kindest smile on her face, stretching her soft cheeks, like she was thinking about something tiny and beautiful.  He almost wanted to brush the hair out of her face, but resisted.  It would be impolite, and besides, she was probably absolutely exhausted.  She had to have been, to have slept through that shaking.

He would let her sleep.

He leaned back against the wall and sighed.  What was he supposed to do?  The truth was that he’d never been particularly enthusiastic about fighting One for All, no matter who received it.  He had been banking on it being Mirio Togata - that was who Sir Nighteye had pushed for it to be, he had learned in his observation efforts - who probably would have been… easier to deal with.

Perhaps.  Mirio’s quirk was subtly strong and he would have been dangerous on the battlefield.  But, personally, he was easy to understand:  his mindset was suitably similar to All Might, which was a big reason Sir Nighteye loved and respected him so much.  Uraraka, by contrast, was a very different beast to deal with.

She was someone who had been born close to the bottom of their society and came out stronger for it.  She was someone who cared immensely about other people, to the point of setting aside her own happiness to make others happy.  She was someone who—

She was important.  You needed her.

There was no pounding this time.  He blinked slowly, looking around and almost expecting to find someone.

He was surprised when he did find someone:  a figure standing in front of him, made of shimmering stars and the blackest night, only barely visible against the darkness of the room.  She… It was a she, his mind said, but he couldn’t see her features, so why did he know that?  Yet he knew.  She was surrounded by the thinnest halo of beautiful light and warmth, and she was smiling.

He couldn’t see her face, only stars, but she was smiling, and it was for him.  He didn’t understand why this person loved him or who she was, but he felt it so deep in his bones, on a metaphysical, frightening level, and he shuddered as he stared at her.  He couldn’t bring himself to look away.

You’ll always be each other’s Heroes.

He blinked and she was gone.

Uraraka stirred then, and he couldn’t help but think those two things were related.  He turned back to look at her, and was struck by how utterly normal it was, yet also completely unusual, to watch her wake up.  To watch how she blinked slowly, her permanent blushmarks faded in her tiredness, but her eyes were so vivid, brown, and beautiful.  She pursed her lips, pink and full, and seemed to register that he was looking at her.

She smiled at him.

He wondered what it would have been like to wake up to that every single day, in a voice that didn’t sound like his at all.  It sounded like a man, but no one he had ever heard before, yet, it also sounded like family, and he wondered if—

Silence, dear Brother of mine.

—he would ever really know the truth.

“What’s wrong?”  Uraraka said, startling Mikumo.  He looked back at her, registering the closeness and the warmth as she began to use One for All again, so he wanted to shrink away, yet couldn’t bear to.

“There was another shaking,” Mikumo lied, because that wasn’t what was wrong but it would do.  “How long were we…”

He brought his hand up and his holographic watch display lit up.  It was almost four in the afternoon, and the outside temperature was rising at least.  It was still freezing, and it wouldn’t get warm enough to matter before night fell, but it was a tiny hope to cling to.  The red of his watch display mixed with the pink fire of One for All, then he dropped his arm and only pink remained once more.

“Why didn’t you just run away?”  Uraraka asked, and Mikumo looked back at her and forced himself not to get distracted by how the pink fire danced in her eyes.  She was now fully focused and surprisingly determined, so he felt pinned by her gaze.  “You didn’t have to run the League of Villains, did you?”

Mikumo cleared his throat and frowned.

“I could have changed how I look again, I suppose, changed my name and obtained false paperwork.  Sometimes I used to dream of moving away, maybe to America, and starting over.”

“Like All Might?”  Uraraka asked, and her voice sounded tired.

“Yes… like All Might,” Mikumo said with a sigh.  “But it wouldn’t be safe for me to be around other people.  My father’s Vestige is relatively easier to contain as long as I’m on the path he wants me to be on.  If I were to stray, though…”

You’ll never escape this drumbeat, Mikumo.

Mikumo coughed into his hand to cover how he wanted to gag.  Father sounded much too close that time, he needed to focus more.  He looked away from Uraraka’s frown and pretended to find the encroaching darkness very interesting all of a sudden.

“I have a set path now and to deviate would be dangerous.  I’m… I’m dangerous, Uraraka, even to you,” Mikumo settled on saying, still looking away.  “This is where I am now, and I can’t escape because—”

“Because no one has ever protected you, like you deserve.  You wouldn’t be here if they did,” Uraraka interrupted, and there was another sting of a phantom memory as Mikumo whipped his head back to her in curiosity and confusion.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you… Mikumo.”

Mikumo huffed, not quite a laugh.  He kind of wanted to be happy - and he didn’t really want to correct her - but, all of a sudden, that wasn’t what he wanted her to call him at all.  It was better than ‘Akatani,’ he supposed, but he didn’t want her to call him the name everyone else did.  Not All for One, not Akatani, not Mikumo.

Not the names his Father set out for him but rather—

Do you miss the things you were meant to be, Izuku?  The things that never were, the things I wanted so desperately for you?

Mikumo blinked, and when he turned back to Ochako, she was stunned.

“Did I… say that out loud?”  He asked, baffled, not sure what else he could ask.  She nodded slowly, then her expression recovered.  She went from surprise to just… sadness.

“Nana misses you,” Ochako said matter-of-factly.  Mikumo scowled, not sure how someone he had just met - someone who was dead - could already miss him.  “I told you, you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you the truth.”

“You can’t keep saying that and expect me to accept it forever,” Mikumo pointed out.  Ochako just laughed at him.

“Oh, trust me.  I know.”

He looked away, not willing to respond and not sure what he should say.  Before today, he had believed he was the stranger of the two of them by far - he was All for One, after all - but now, he wasn’t so sure.  Or, rather, he was fairly sure he was far more strange than Ochako, personally, but One for All…

One for All was a fickle thing, he was quickly realizing.

“Do you ever think about what you’d say to Bakugou, if you could talk to him again without the fighting?”  Ochako asked, and he turned back to her in disbelief.

“I’d ask him if he has any regrets.  Any at all,” Mikumo said shortly, and Ochako stared pensively at him for a moment, measuring his response, before she said anything.

“I suspect he does.  He never talks about it - about you - but… sometimes he would cry, when he thought no one was around to hear him.  Kirishima and I talked about it sometimes, but Bakugou never lets anyone in.”

“It’s easy to mourn someone once they’re already dead,” Mikumo replied bitterly.  “It’s a lot harder to find the courage to apologize to them when they’re still there.”

“What would you say if he did apologize to you?”  Ochako asked without hesitation, and Mikumo leaned a bit away from her to stare.  He regretted it because it was cold, but he still did it because her question was absurd.

“I’d say that it’s too little, too late, probably,” Mikumo admitted.  Ochako frowned, but didn’t push at first.  He returned to his more comfortable sitting position of leaning slightly into her and she sighed.  “I always thought about what it would be like if he was still nice to me, when I was a kid,” Mikumo added in a quieter voice.  He glanced over from the corner of his eye and saw Ochako’s frown increase.  “I only ever wanted to be his friend.”

“It was supposed to get better,” Ochako whispered.  Mikumo looked up to the ceiling but that was just black, too.  Everything around them was black and dark, lightless except for the soft pink glow of Ochako’s quirk.

“Is that what you saw in your dream?”  Mikumo asked, taking a chance.  He turned his gaze back to her and she nodded, looking away from him.  She hugged her legs closer to her.

“It was supposed to get better and… you were supposed to be friends again, one day.  But… you can’t fix the past.  You can’t make it better.  It already happened.  All you can do is do better, moving forward.”

She turned to look at him with faraway eyes, and even though the pink fire danced there, she was so sad, with glazed over, flat pupils and irises.  It was like her everything had been taken away, or like the sun was never going to rise again and tomorrow would never come.  The thought didn’t sound like his voice, and he frowned at her.

“Are you talking about Katsuki… or me?”  Mikumo asked cautiously.

“Both.  Neither.  It’s complicated,” she said simply.  She leaned a little bit more into him and he let her.  It was nice, yet he felt bad about it.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  He wasn’t sure what he was sorry for, specifically, but it felt right to say.

There was another long silence between them, broken up only by the drip, drip, drip, the occasional crackle from the fire of One for All, or a distant bang and shaking of the earth.  The blasting felt like it was getting closer, relatively speaking, like it was a slowly encroaching darkness, an encroaching finality.  It was like the tick-tock of a clock chasing them down a hallway, except the hallway was a dead-end.

And he realized that it was chasing them, not him, because it felt like Ochako didn’t want this moment to end anymore than he did now.  He wasn’t sure what to make of that, as he stole a glance at her and saw that she was just looking at him without remorse.  He flicked his gaze back away and wished he could find the right words to say once more.

“Do you believe in fate?”  Ochako whispered.  Mikumo cleared his throat, furrowing his brows.

“I feel like Sir Nighteye demonstrates that fate objectively exists,” he replied.  Ochako hummed, not quite a laugh, and leaned her head onto his shoulder.

“That’s not what I asked you,” she pointed out dreamily.  He realized she was probably falling asleep again.  One for All began to dim around her, then it died and the air got very cold.

He began to use his own heating quirks to warm up his body and the air in their immediate vicinity.  It had been long enough that he figured he could manage for a while and give her a rest.  Holding One for All for long periods of time, even at low intensity, must have been exhausting.

“Thank you for keeping me warm, Uraraka,” Mikumo whispered.  Ochako hummed again, and he tilted his head forward and watched her eyelids flutter.  “I don’t think I believe in fate but… if there is a fate, I would like to believe that, one day, it would be kind to me.”

She hummed one more time and her head lolled a bit against him.  She was out.  He felt like he should have been embarrassed, indignant, or something at how comfortable she had become.  But he just felt… pleasant and glad, despite it all.  Even with how dangerous he was… she felt safe around him now.

She shouldn’t have.  But it was nice.

He spent some time thinking about fate, mostly for himself, and wondered what fate even really meant.  Ochako had insisted that it wasn’t inevitable that he ended up the way he was, but he couldn’t imagine what that would mean for him.  He would’ve just been a quirkless nobody:  the useless, worthless Deku that Katsuki had always insisted he was—

Useless, except for the purpose that I gave you, Mikumo.

—and destined to accomplish nothing in life.  He would never have lived up to the remarkable things that Ochako had done or her fellow Heroes, like Frostfire or Ingenium.  They had saved so many people, and he couldn’t imagine himself ever doing anything productive or anything kind.  That wasn’t the hand he had been dealt in his life, and the thought made him want to cry.

He thought about this often, in general terms.  Today had thrown the thoughts into stark relief, however, and he curled in on himself and let out a shuddering breath.  He didn’t want to cry, and he didn’t want to wake Ochako.  But he also didn’t want to be alone.

You’re not alone, Izuku.  You’ve never been alone, even if you were too far away to hold.  But now this is a chance to set things straight—

You will not interfere.  The pathetic, incompetent Shimura Nana is no match for my power!

Nana?  Mikumo thought, delirious.  The voices were so loud, and it felt like they were shaking the fabric of reality itself, but then Nana spoke again and it was truly deafening—

The weight of my sins is immense, All for One… but the weight of yours is so much more than you could ever dream of.

Then there was silence, almost absolute silence, like his reality was muffled around him, and Mikumo breathed heavily.  This ‘weight’ that Nana spoke of felt like it was crushing him, and he looked around almost in a panic, wondering if he was still awake or if he was dreaming.  Or maybe the veil of reality was thin tonight, and the line between wakefulness and dreaming was blurring down to ashes and dust.

He craned his neck and turned to Ochako, and felt calmer as he saw how utterly at peace she looked.  Her head was a smaller, almost insignificant weight on his shoulder, though it didn’t feel like a weight at all.

This time, he did give in to the temptation to brush her hair out of her face, then he immediately pulled his hand away like he’d been burned.  She hummed in her sleep, as if she approved, but he only felt shame.

He cared about Ochako; a great deal, in fact.  He’d always been rather enamored with her, enamored with how Heroic and brave she was.  He told her she was a good rival to have, but that wasn’t really true.  He’d always wished they could have been friends… and he always did think she was beautiful.  But he was the same old Deku, even as Mikumo Akatani, All for One, and the world always stood between them.

It didn’t matter.  He looked away before he gave into the impulse to do something foolish again.

There was another rumbling, but this one was much closer and much more intense.  Ochako groaned and her head rolled off of Mikumo’s shoulder as he scrambled to his feet.  She instinctively caught herself, and he turned to see her looking up at him with confused, bleary eyes.

“It’s cold… Why did you move?”  She mumbled, and he couldn’t stifle the smile that crossed his face.

“They’re getting closer, I—”

He was cut off when there was a sharp ring, so he looked back out into the dark and watched the pipe that had been drip, drip, dripping burst open in an explosion of water.  Part of the pipe went flying and clipped him in the side of his left arm, and he yelped in horror and pain as he felt hot red liquid run down his arm.

“Shit, I…”  He paused and looked down.  It wasn’t… that bad, on balance.  There was a crackle of crimson and green energy as the wound closed, but it left him feeling a bit woozier.  Then he looked up and the real horror set in as he saw that water was rapidly running into their space.  “Uraraka… I think this is bad…”

He turned in time to watch her walk up to his left, holding the pipe piece that had gone flying in her hand as One for All flared around her again.  There was a glint of red on the pipe, lit up by One for All, and he frowned at his own blood.  She looked at him with concern and he nodded, shaking away the negative thoughts and hoping to convey with his expression that he had a plan.

“You’re looking to do something really stupid, I bet.”  He blinked at her sheepishly.  “It’s all over your face.  You’ve got the same look that Bakugou and Todoroki have when they’re all, ‘I’m going to run off on my own now and almost get myself killed,’ fucking boys.”

“We need to stop the water flow,” Mikumo said calmly, and Ochako scowled at him.  “Unless you would like to drown to death.”

“We’d freeze to death, actually,” Ochako pointed out.  “And you’ll freeze to death if you get wet.  You’ll freeze fast, you know this.”

“I know,” Mikumo insisted.  She did not look very sympathetic.  “I have a plan, though.”

“Is it a stupid plan?”  She asked, but he knew it was a rhetorical question.  He decided to answer, because it always annoyed her when he did that and she was cute when she pouted at him.

“You help me float up to the pipe without getting into the water, then I will fix the pipe with Overhaul.  Then I float back and I won’t get wet at all.”

Her expression, with her brows knit tight together and her cheeks puffed out, screamed ‘I do not like this plan.’  He shrugged, not seeing what other choices they had.  They could either wait for the chamber to flood or try and fix the problem.  Besides, she could fly and he couldn’t.  If anyone was going to take a dive, it was him.

“That’s not a good thing either,” Ochako pointed out, and he realized he’d been muttering again.  “I don’t want you to get hurt… Do you really trust me?”

Mikumo stared at her for a moment, utterly incredulously.  He was at a loss for words, but the truth was that the answer to her question was ‘absolutely,’ yet he wasn’t brave enough to tell her that.  So he just stared at her, hoping that he looked just as helpless as he felt, so she… could help him.

So someone could help him.

“I’m serious,” she said.  “I… I lied, earlier.  When I said I hated you.  I don’t hate you, I… I hate what you were made into.  But I care about you, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Mikumo blurted out, and he didn’t quite care that he had entirely ruined it, because her pout was too precious to miss out on.  “Thank you.  I’m serious, too.  I’m also serious about this plan.”

He held out his hand to her, expecting her to make him weightless.  Instead, she reached out and took his hand - his left in her right, glove on gauntlet - and held on tight, as if he might disappear if she did anything else.  Her gaze was intense and piercing suddenly, and he found he couldn’t look away.  He didn’t want to look away ever again, if he could help it.

“We need to survive this,” she said in a low, even tone.  “We need to survive and we… If we can find a way where you don’t go to jail forever, we can talk and… I want to save you.”

Mikumo couldn’t help it:  he laughed at her, a snide, barking laughter.  She did not look pleased, but what had just come out of her mouth was entirely too funny to take seriously.

“I didn’t know comedy was a strong suit of yours,” Mikumo said.  She looked even less pleased at that somehow and he was only slightly mindful of how easy it would be for her to kill him.  “I’m well beyond saving.”

“Bullshit,” Ochako said, surprising him.  “Nobody is…”  She closed her eyes and visibly took a deep breath through her nose.  “What you’ve done is unforgivable, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise.  But that doesn’t mean that you’re beneath saving, because no one should be beneath saving.”

He stared at her for a moment, processing her words and the subtle change she’d made, knowing what it would mean to him.  Her words were ridiculous - completely and utterly ridiculous - yet he was seriously considering them.  He huffed out another laugh through his nose, but her expression was completely straight, and that almost made it even funnier.

“You really are amazing, Ochako,” Mikumo mused, and he swore her permanent blushmarks got darker.  “You’ll have to explain to me why you think anything about me is worth saving, I’m sure that will be a thoroughly remarkable story to hear.”

“I can beat your ass, if you’d prefer,” Ochako said, and Mikumo paled slightly, only for a moment, before he recovered.

“I think that depends on how you mean that,” he said, trying his luck.  He heard her fingertips on her gauntlets retract and there was a pink glow.

She looked right at him, remorselessly, as he felt his mass disappear, and he only got the first syllable of an apology out before she threw him over towards the far wall. 

“I deserved that…”  He muttered once he caught himself with his hands, and he heard her laughing at him from behind.

He tried to carefully turn and almost sent himself careening through the air instead.  He blindly grabbed at the wall and succeeded in digging his fingers in to steady himself, though it hurt with how cold things were even through his gloves.  He looked back at her, feeling absolutely helpless once again, and she just smirked at him.

“It isn’t so easy, is it?”  She asked from the platform, sounding like she felt precisely zero shame, and he was sufficiently cowed.  Besides, the water quickly filling the lower area where the tracks were forced him to focus.

“I never said I thought it was…”  He said, and she just laughed at him again.  She tossed the pipe over and he only barely managed to catch it without sending himself flying.  “I will have to remember to ask you about this later…”  He added, more so for himself under his breath.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Ochako said, and he glanced back at her, surprised and… warm, feeling comfortable.  He smiled and she smiled, too.

Then he looked back to the broken part of the pipe, where it was leaking, and carefully shimmied over in the air.  Every movement felt like he would just fly away, a shooting star without the ability to land, and he grit his teeth.  It was exhilarating in a way, yet it also felt all wrong.

Part of him wondered what it would be like to have practiced this, to have fought and bled and loved and lost alongside Ochako Uraraka, the Ninth Bearer of One for All.  To have experienced her quirk in battle, and to be someone who mattered to her.  To be—

You were important.  She needed you.

He stopped when he reached the pipe, holding on to the wall and trying not to throw up.  He wasn’t sure if it was because hovering in the air was disorienting or because of Nana’s voice right in his ears, like shards of reality itself digging into his mind.

He did have a whole new respect and appreciation for astronauts, however.

He carefully placed the pipe into position, trying to minimize the spray of water.  A few droplets hit him in the face and it was so cold it almost burned.  Using All for One kept himself warm, but he still hissed a bit and tried to focus on getting things just right.  He just about had the pipe where he wanted it…

“Please be careful,” Ochako said, but she wasn’t that loud.  He wondered if she meant for him to hear it at all.  He looked over his shoulder, trying to smile and ignore how unpleasant the water hitting him was.

There was another loud boom and the whole world shook.  Mikumo heard some debris dislodge itself from somewhere, probably the ceiling, and Ochako screamed.  He whipped around, trying to find her - no, no, please be okay…! - then he screamed, too.

Because all of his mass came back at once and he fell fast to the floor.

There was a searing, godless pain, like wildfire in his left arm, and he screamed again with how the shockwave of the impact rocked his entire body.  He felt like he was dying and his whole world spun, but as he lost consciousness all he thought was:

Ochako, please be okay…

Please don’t leave me…

Izuku is dreaming.

He’s Izuku again, he realizes.  Standing off to the side, he is Mikumo, wearing the costume of All for One, but in front of him is Izuku, the Izuku that never was, wearing a Hero costume.  The juxtaposition is jarring, like the threads of reality beginning to unravel, fray, and reform, and his head throbs even in the dream.  The sky is clear, but it feels like he’s at the center of a tempest, an impossible storm, a hurricane bearing down on him that he can’t even see, let alone fight or flee.

Something is wrong, everything is wrong, it’s all wrong and off, yet not at the same time.

Little Izuku’s costume is shattered, shredded, half-destroyed.  Black boots ripped apart in the back, his sleeves gone, and his arms covered by unusual red armor… but he still has those red shoes.  His eyes are dead, blank, and green, and his hair is green, too, so Mikumo is in awe.  He wears a tattered yellow cape, clinging to it with one hand for dear life.  Mikumo doesn’t remember anyone who wears a yellow cape, yet the familiarity of it hits him like a runaway train in the dream.

He is in a city - a city, so Mikumo looks around and has no idea where they are as he follows the him that never was as a ghost - and walks through an early morning sunrise.  There is no one else around, but there is debris, evidence of battle.  A children’s All Might toy, missing an arm, lays abandoned in the street.  Mikumo looks around and sees a body - a young man, blood running down his arms; no, his arm because one of those is missing, too - laying on a shattered vehicle.

Scenes like this aren’t unfamiliar to him.  Usually, it’s him creating them.  Now, he watches the him who never was walk through desolation and wonders:  who created this scene?  Little Izuku doesn’t look like a villain, he doesn’t look like All for One, like Mikumo Akatani.

But he has that same sorry expression, that same emptiness, that same desire to never be seen, so that no one can see how truly broken, beaten, and bruised he is.  The same desire to see others be happy, so that he can feel like he accomplished something, because giving others happiness is so worthwhile on its own he never thinks of his own happiness at all.

What does the happiness of a quirkless Deku mean, anyway?

But this Izuku is a Hero, isn’t he?  So what is his quirk?  And Mikumo watches him and prays, wishing on a shooting star, that little Izuku will show him his quirk.

Tell me, please, what it’s like to be a Hero, Mikumo thinks desperately, willing little Izuku to hear him.

But little Izuku doesn’t hear him, and Mikumo feels that crushing loneliness, the weight of reality itself crashing all around him at a single point like a meteor.  He wonders if he can find the thread of hope and pull.  Can he end this dream and go back to his reality, go back to Ochako and the dark hole because it is familiar?  His reality is sad, broken, and off, but at least it’s familiar, and…

The unknown is frightening, and Mikumo is so tired of being afraid.

What is little Izuku running away from?  Mikumo wonders as he follows along through the silent streets in this silent dream, in this ethereal quiet of true infinity.  He intuitively knows that little Izuku is running - maybe not physically, but spiritually, he is running - and he wonders:  is he running away from something or towards something?

Can both things be true at the same time?

And, suddenly, there are others.  Other ghosts, other fragments of what was meant to be, other phantom memories haunting the dream between them.  He sees Ingenium, Frostfire, and Dynamight, but they are not Heroes at this moment.  They wear their simple clothes, t-shirts and shorts like normal teenagers and not like warriors and Heroes holding back the dark for those who cannot hope to fight for themselves.

They reach out for Izuku, and Tenya grabs Izuku’s left arm, as does Shouto.  Katsuki reaches further still - he was always the best, the Symbol of Victory, wasn’t he? - and grabs Izuku’s cape at the neck, trying so desperately to hold on, but little Izuku keeps walking.  Little Eri appears and reaches for little Izuku, but she misses him entirely.  There’s no way she can hold on to the trail of his shooting star, so he leaves her behind.

Then there is Ochako, but she is in her Hero costume.  Only part of it, though, or maybe it’s an old costume.  Mikumo’s memory feels hazy and distant as he watches two realities layer over each other, colliding and unraveling at the same time, but Ochako is flying like an angel, and she reaches for Izuku’s head, threads her fingers through his hair, and pulls.

He doesn’t stop.  Not even Ochako can stop him, though Mikumo feels the sorrow, the love, and the regret radiating off little Izuku in waves.  He wonders if he can feel her in that moment, and he wonders if he feels shame like Mikumo feels shame for him.

Little Izuku should be ashamed, running away from the people who love him.  Mikumo just wants to beg him to stay.

For a metaphysical instant, the scene flickers and Ochako is Nana, desperately willing Izuku to stop and reconsider his plans to do things on his own as her white cape billows in the wind.  But he doesn’t stop.  The dream provides that he is the boy without a fate, true infinity in the face of the endless black, and Mikumo doesn’t understand.

Mikumo stops walking, the scene fading to ash and white while Tomura’s ghost looms large over them as well, and watches little Izuku walk into the sunrise, heedless of the ghosts at his heels.  He has someone to save, or maybe, it’s him who needs to be saved.  Maybe both can be true.

Don’t forget them, Mikumo thinks, because he knows what it’s like to really be alone.  He prays fervently that the him that never was doesn’t still feel like that way, in the face of his friends trying so desperately to hold on to the trail of his shooting star… and failing.

But the thread of hope unravels all the same.

The scene changes, flickering, and Mikumo is disoriented.

But he is greeted with something beautiful instead of something sad.

He sees himself, little Izuku again but a bit younger than before, and he is smiling.  It’s such a bright and pure and kind expression and Mikumo wonders:

Was that really what I looked like?  I don’t remember ever smiling like that…

But the him that never was is smiling, laughing even with closed eyes as his freckled face stretches, silent in the ethereal dream.  He throws his hands up in excitement at something said that Mikumo is not privy to.  Even in this dream, watching himself be happy, watching himself enjoy the life that was denied to him, Mikumo is excluded.

But he isn’t concerned about that, because he realizes that little Izuku is wearing the uniform of UA.

He’s walking down the hill, throwing his hands up in the air as he smiles, and he’s got that ridiculous, awful stubby tie.  The way that Mikumo used to tie it, before Kurogiri taught him how to do it properly, and this tie is crimson but his eyes and hair are green like they’re supposed to be.  It’s like a Christmas present that Mikumo so desperately wants, but he’s separated from it by true infinity.

He looks around and sees Ochako, wearing her own UA uniform with her skirt and tights, and her tie done properly.  She does a little fist pump and smiles so brightly at Izuku, and he smiles back.  Her smile is like the sun, and Mikumo realizes that he’s in love with her and so is little Izuku.  The realization hits him so hard he almost wants to double over in pain.  But he is frozen to the spot, watching the scene play out in enraptured awe.

Next to Ochako are Shouto and Tenya.  Shouto puts up his left hand and makes a little flame with his finger, like a candlelight, while Tenya chops his arm theatrically and insistently at whatever Ochako is laughing at.  She just laughs harder, and they all look so happy that it hurts.

And suddenly, sound comes roaring back to the dream, like a bomb in Mikumo’s ears, and little Izuku speaks.

“You guys are such cool Heroes.  I just wanted to tell you all that I’m glad that I met you,” he says.  He smiles again, and Ochako’s blushmarks get a little darker, while Shouto and Tenya smile, too.

“You’re a cool Hero, too, Deku.  It wouldn’t be the same without you,” Ochako says, and Mikumo is stunned.

Deku.

Deku.

Deku.

But it doesn’t sound like hate or anger when she says it.  She sounds so happy, like he’s her whole world, and he realizes:  she’s in love with him, too.  And he wonders what else Father took away from him, and what else was meant to be that’s too far away to hold now.  He wants to scream and cry, but he’s too enamored by how happy they look, so he wonders if they’re still happy now.

Do they feel a hole in their lives because he isn’t there?  Do they miss him, without knowing they miss him?  Or do they not even care; is he just a footnote in their happiness now, a what-could-have-been that is lost to time?

“You were important.  They needed you.”

He turns, shocked at hearing despite how the dream has gone silent again, and finds her.  It is Nana Shimura, the Seventh Bearer of One for All.  It must be, because who else would look like an angel in the dark as the scene fades away into an endless expanse of light and stars?

Mikumo stands in this field of night, looks at Nana, and realizes that she looks like his mother.

Then he cries.  He cries and cries as she walks to him and hugs him close, whispering to him, and her voice is like love from within, yet it echoes off the stars like it’s coming from everywhere all at once.

“They miss you, Izuku.  I miss you, too.  We all feel it, your being gone.  I only wish you’d stay…”

There is a flicker, one that he feels more so than sees, and he looks up and finds not Nana but One for All.  The First Bearer, All for One’s brother and his uncle.  He has feminine, soft features and white hair, and he smiles kindly but distantly at Mikumo.

“Midoriya Izuku, what would you give up to stay with her?”

And One for All says ‘her,’ but he doesn't specify if he means Ochako or Nana.  And Mikumo doesn’t ask, because he doesn’t care and he’s not sure if, at this moment, that is a distinction worth making.

I would give up anything and everything, Mikumo thinks, and he means it, from the bottom of his heart, as the scene begins to fade away in white and ash.  Even in this dream, he cannot escape the ghost of Tomura Shigaraki - Tenko Shimura - his stepbrother and, the dream provides, the one that Nana can never save.

But the dream asks:  would Izuku still like to be saved?

And there is pain, such sharp and shattering agony in his left arm, but he smiles softly, and so does One for All.

“She believes in you, you know.  She’s always believed in you.  I’m always impressed with how hard she fights for you.”

As the dream fades away, he thinks of Nana and Ochako, flickering together as one in true infinity.

He continues to smile as he does so.

Ochako remembered a stark pain in her shoulder as a rock hit her.  Danger Sense had warned her as all the hair on the back of her neck stood up, but she was so tired and she was too slow to dodge.

She had fallen to the ground, catching herself on her hands, but there was a shockwave up her arms and spine when she connected.  Her gauntlets blunted the impact, but One for All died around her as she lost focus, and she looked up just in time to watch Mikumo fall.  She was the one who was supposed to protect him - she was the one who was supposed to save him - and she had let him fall.

And she watched with mute horror, her hand halfway outstretched, as he hit the ground hard.  The pipe fell underneath him and stabbed him right through his left shoulder in a horrifying spurt of blood.  Mikumo didn’t move, and for a single moment that felt like forever, Ochako was frozen.

No.  Nonono…

“Izuku?”  She croaked out, her throat dry like a desert.  Then One for All flared and she didn’t think, she just moved, because he couldn’t die before she saved him.  She had to save him, and it had to matter because, if he fell to All for One, it would all be for nothing.

If he fell to All for One, she would be broken, because he was important and—

She reached him and sucked air in through her teeth at the sight of him:  costume shredded at the shoulder around the pipe, water quickly soaking through what remained, and dark crimson seeping out.  The pipe hit him just so, and his arm was hanging by a thread, more pipe than skin.  She winced and—

A phantom memory of Sir Nighteye, broken and dying in her arms, and she screams—

But no, Sir Nighteye wasn’t dead, and Mikumo couldn’t die, either.  He wouldn’t die, because she was Ochako Uraraka, the Ninth Bearer of One for All, and the most important person in her entire life told her once that it was a power meant for saving, even if it was always a sword made to destroy.  And she wasn’t sure if that was Nana or Izuku, because the memories blended together like soup as she cradled Mikumo in her arms and prayed.

“Please… please wake up, please…”  She whispered, chanting over and over, and she leaned down and touched her forehead to his.  She cried, her tears falling on his face, and he wasn’t moving and he wasn’t breathing.

One for All flared even hotter, burning bright pink like the sun, sizzling away water and blood around them as she cradled him in her arms.  He was going, going, gone and she couldn’t bear the thought of a world without him when there was so much left to say.  She needed to tell him the truth, all the things that were meant to be and never were, and how—

She cared.  She cared so much, and she was so sorry, and she wanted more, and they could never have more if he was gone.

“Izuku… please wake up…”

She counted to keep herself sane.

1…

2…

3…

4…

5…

6…

7…

8…

9…

He took a breath, gasping for air and crying out in choked agony at the same time, so she moved her head away and smiled.  Because even if he was in unfathomable pain and at the doorstep of death, that was better than dead, and there was still a chance to make things right.  She adjusted herself so that she was still cradling his head, his body draped over her knees, and brushed his hair out of his face.

“Izuku… Izuku, can you hear me?”  She asked, and he looked at her with bleary, confused eyes.  “You… You’re hurt very badly.  I need you to heal yourself, but I don’t… I don’t know how you’ll heal this.”

She had him so that his right side was against her and, when he looked to his left, she watched his eyes bulge out of their sockets.  He sucked in a breath and she cooed under her breath to him, ‘don’t go into shock, don’t panic, please stay with me,’ and he was shaking so badly, and he’d lost so much blood.

She watched Izuku reach out and grip the pipe and hiss in pain, so she mumbled, ‘you can do this, you can do this, I’m here,’ while he stared at her and took a deep breath.  She stared back, smiling and trying to be encouraging, despite how her tears fell and he looked like he was going to throw up as he whimpered.  She was covered in his blood, and she had to shove that thought away, before it made her sick.  She brushed his hair again and just wanted him to know that everything would be okay, because she was there, despite how much this was going to hurt.

He closed his eyes, and she watched the pipe atomize.

And then so did his entire arm, and he screamed and threw his head back - but her hand was there, she was there, right there with him - as it was reconfigured, shattered and reforged like a sword, overhauled back into the correct position like it was always meant to be.  He screamed and screamed, and Ochako lowered her head, screwed her eyes shut, and cried.  She cried because he was in so much pain, it wasn’t just his arm, and there wasn’t anything she could do but be there.

He stopped screaming slowly as he ran out of air, but he was still hyperventilating as his body craved replacement oxygen.  His arm and costume were back the way they should be, as if it never was off at all, yet she knew the pain remained for him.  She just wrapped him up and hugged him as close as she could, cradling him and trying to protect him from the world, like he had always deserved.

“Stay with me, stay with me.  Please, it’s okay, it will be okay, I promise…”  She said, a little louder, a little more coherently, but she knew he probably wasn’t hearing anything at all as she made promises she couldn’t hope to keep.  She wondered if he was even here, or if he was with Nana again, pulled into the dream through his pain despite being wide awake.

She wondered, what would Nana do if she were here?  And Nana was there but not at the same time, so Ochako felt terribly alone.

She pulled back to look at Izuku properly, realizing that he had abruptly leveled out his breathing.  He had a faraway, intense look on his face, his breathing shallow and even, and she tilted her head in confusion and concern.  Ochako gasped sharply when his entire eyes turned pitch black, like they had filled with ink.  She realized that he was losing, he was losing his internal battle with All for One right in front of her, and all she was doing was watching.

“No… no, stop.  Stop,” Ochako said, as if she could stop him with just her words.  “Stop, god damn you!  Give him back!”

Izuku closed his eyes, and Ochako watched tears roll down his face.

And then, Izuku was gone.

She knew it was futile, that there was nothing to be done as she watched him fade away.  One for All, the First Bearer, dared to speak to her then.

It’s too late, Uraraka Ochako—

“Be quiet,” Ochako said with a shocking purity of focus, and she realized that she never wanted to let go.

She never wanted to watch Izuku walk away again, because seeing it in the dreams already tore her heart out again and again.  She couldn’t bear the thought that he’d been in her arms and she still let him slip away.  She couldn’t bear that thought that again, she had been too slow, even if those memories never happened at the same time.  And she felt the Bearers protesting—

Do not do this.  You are the Ninth now, you have a duty.

The Second and Third.

You know this won't end well for you.  Please, think this through.

The Fourth and Fifth.

Please, be careful…

The Sixth.

Uraraka Ochako, you know that you will fail without his help.  His will is not strong enough alone now, and you both will be consumed by the power of All for One.

One for All.

Ochako… I believe in you.  One for All was always a sword.  A blade forged by a tyrant madman, meant to destroy.  The question has always been in how you wield the sword, not whether a sword was forged to kill.

But little Izuku… He was the one who taught us that it could be a power made for saving, too…

Nana.

Ochako made up her mind.  She was never letting go.  She would not lose him again.

She was done running away.

She touched her forehead to Izuku’s again, crying and smiling and not sure what was up or down or right from wrong anymore, but she resolved that this was what a Hero would do.  She cradled the back of his head and cried, her tears hitting his cheeks, and she wasn’t sure what else to say, so she said the truth.

“I love you,” she whispered, thinking of both Izuku and Nana together.  “Please… I’ll come for you.  Don’t give up hope yet.”

And then her world went black as she was pulled into the dream of One for All with All for One.

Chapter Text

Ochako Uraraka is dreaming.

The dream space of One for All is a familiar place, a place filled with ghosts and echoes of the past, phantom memories like runaway trains.  Today it is an endless field of stars, and she looks down—

No, this is all off.

She is not Ochako Uraraka, Uravity, the Ninth Bearer of One for All, twenty years old and a pro Hero made for saving.  She is Ochako Uraraka, five years old and willing her tiny hands to ease her parents’ burdens so she can see them smile.  Her power is not strong here, and she stares at her hands and wonders:

Is this really my dream, or is it something new, something different?  Something horrible?

She drops her tiny hands and looks around again, then realizes that the world is breaking, shifting, changing.  It’s like she has stepped into a hall of mirrors, splitting and shattering around her to show a kaleidoscope of infinity.

Suddenly, she stands near an underpass, and she blanches because this is a memory she knows well, even if it isn’t her memory.  Even if it never happened, yet it was supposed to happen.  Even if it’s all wrong, because it is night instead of daylight, and because little Izuku is there, five years old and wearing an All Might onesie, but he’s supposed to be fourteen and wearing a black middle school uniform.  He turns to her, smiling and waving, and he’s so beautiful and perfect that she wants to cry.

She waves back and starts to run to him on little legs, desperate to reach him before things go wrong, before it all falls apart because he’s coming.  But the manhole nearby begins to rumble, so Ochako opens her mouth and tries to call out, to yell, or to scream, but she can’t in the silent dream.  Izuku sees her distress and drops his waving hand with a frown, but he doesn’t see it coming; he doesn’t know what’s going on.

She thinks as loud as she can:

Izuku, please, run to me.  I can protect you!

And he looks at her with a childish, innocent expression of disbelief, but his words thought back aren’t childish or innocent when they’re filled with such sorrow.

No, you can’t.  No one can protect me, because no one ever tried.

Ochako comes to a pointed halt at his words, horrified.  Because even if she is a little kid, she still remembers and she knows he remembers, too.  He remembers all the pain and the sadness, all the things he’s been through and survived.  He survived them all… and he did so alone.

You told me that nobody ever protected me like I deserved, Izuku thinks, and you’re right.  It’s why we’re here…

The monster erupts from the manhole, but it’s not made of sludge.  Why isn’t it made of sludge?  Her thoughts are incoherent as she watches it, and she runs forward again, but it isn’t sludge.  Instead, it’s made of darkness, All for One shaped like a giant, cruel, pitch black raven, and it darts towards little Izuku like crimson lightning.

Izuku!

But she’s too slow.  She was always too slow, so the monster grabs up little Izuku.  And little Izuku, bless him, is a fighter:  he thrashes and flails his little arms, trying to be brave just like All Might as he wears the costume.  But he can’t fight off All for One like this, without power - without hope - and Ochako tries to scream again as she grabs his hand and holds on for dear life.

Get away from me, Ochako!  He’ll take you too!  Little Izuku thinks, but Ochako shakes her head.  Why won’t you run away?

Because you look like you need saving…

But All for One’s hold is firm and Izuku is being sucked in, being taken once more.  Ochako hears the awful laughter echo through true infinity, and she growls silently into the dream as she pulls on Izuku with all of the might her little self can muster.  It just isn’t enough, and All for One’s mocking thoughts and cruel laughter grow louder.

You didn’t really think it would be so easy, did you?  You’re pathetic, just like Shimura Nana.  When I am finished taking what is rightfully mine from Mikumo, I will take what is mine from you, too.

You are weak, Uraraka Ochako.  Weak and useless and worthless, just like little Deku was.

And Ochako tries to pull as her hands are getting sucked into the black, too, until there’s nothing left to hold on to.  Izuku is gone, taken again, and Ochako sobs silently, tears running down her face, as she falls backwards from the darkness.

She glares at All for One from the ground, feeling his arrogance and smugness, and she hates him.  She hates everything about him, everything he represents, everything he’s taken from her.

She hates that he’s right.

She is weak.

She is useless.

She is worthless.

Wait.

Nana’s voice rings through true infinity, and Ochako hears it.

“That thing is everything that is wrong, Ochako.  You must destroy it - or it will destroy you.  You can still save him.  You can still be his Hero.”

Ochako stares at All for One with wide eyes as he advances on her, but she’s far away in outer space, remembering phantom memories that are hers and not hers at the same time; the memories that are a weapon.  She stares through All for One, but she feels Nana smile from within.

Nana smiles because Ochako figured it out.

“You’re wrong,” she says.

She says it out loud, her voice echoing off the dream in waves like they’re still in that hall of mirrors, and All for One recoils as she stands up on two feet.  She marches towards him, raises her little fist, and slams it on his darkness, and it doesn’t do anything but she knows he feels it.

“You’re wrong about him.”

What?!  All for One thinks, screeching in surprise, confusion, and anger as she raises her hand and pounds him with her fist, again and again, echoing in the dark.  And he’s still retreating but she’s still following, and she is beautifully, metaphysically furious.  She is furious, and she can hear her heartbeat pulsing in her head, pounding with her conviction and her determination.

She will never let go again.  She will never run away again.  She will never stop being Izuku’s Hero, because now she knows that is what she was always meant to be.

“His name is Izuku!”

Pound.

“I was supposed to call him Deku!”

Pound.

“He was supposed to be the Ninth Bearer of One for All!”

Pound.

“He was supposed to be a Hero!”

Pound.

“But Deku doesn’t mean weak!”

Pound.

“It doesn’t mean useless.  It doesn’t mean worthless!”

Pound.

“Deku is the name of a Hero and Deku is my friend!”

POUND.

“And you.  Can’t.  Have.  Him!”

She raises her fist, but suddenly, she is not Ochako Uraraka, five years old and willing her tiny hands to ease her parents’ burdens so she can see them smile.  She is Ochako Uraraka, Uravity, the Ninth Bearer of One for All, twenty years old and a pro Hero made for saving.

She feels infinity at her fingertips like wildfire.

For a metaphysical instant, she hesitates and she hears Izuku’s tiny voice, like he is speaking from above and beyond.

Do you really mean that?

“I’ve always meant it!”  She screams with nine voices.  One for All flares white hot like a supernova around her fist, lighting up the dark as she prepares to face the devil in the moonlight.  And she feels it:

All for One is afraid.  He should be afraid.

When she hits him this time, reality shatters like glass.

And then, they stand among a ruined city.  A place that never was, yet should have been:  Kamino Ward, obliterated by All for One and One for All, just like Ochako has seen in her dreams.  But in reality, Kamino Ward is untouched; no monument to All Might is there, no testament to his will to say ‘I am here’ and stand against the dark.

Because Mikumo Akatani killed All for One before it could happen, taking on that darkness by himself.  The whole world watched with bated breath as he held that darkness in his soul and stood alone against the darkness on his own.

He doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now they stand together, and she knows that little Izuku stands behind her, while All for One stands in front of her in his true form.  She is between him and Izuku, and that’s exactly where she wants to be.

All for One has his suit and his breathing apparatus, his mask covering his eyeless face.  He stretches his arms out and she wonders if he sees the butterflies - or are they moths? - hovering around him like death, little phantom memories that look like light in the shape of flapping wings.

When you always smell of death, you can’t notice when it comes for you too, she thinks.

You’re like an angel, Izuku thinks, and the thought is quiet and reverent as One for All burns bright around Ochako.  Ochako wonders if she is his guardian angel or the angel of death, and if it is a distinction without a difference in the face of true infinity.  She wonders if he can feel the faith she has in him, like she can feel the faith he has in her.

She turns for only a moment and smiles, then she feels the flicker as she becomes Nana and back again.  The other Bearers don’t approve, but they are not willing to interrupt, and they stand as one, nine voices in the dark.

And this is her fight because—

“I’m not an angel, Izuku.  But I will be your Hero tonight.”

And Ochako believes that, she believes it with her entire soul.  Because she knows that All for One doesn’t know what Izuku was meant to be, he doesn’t know what he took, what he stole, and he doesn't know how heavy his sins are.

Here in the dream, Ochako will make him learn, and without the cooperation of his host - without Izuku’s will to steal One for All - All for One is nothing.

So she believes, with all her soul, that she can be Izuku’s Hero, and she is in his head and he is in her head, and he hears and sees all of it.  He sees her conviction and how pure it is, and he is in awe of her.  But she is in awe of him, too, because she sees everything he thinks of her, in spite of it all, and it is breathtaking and beautiful.  It all happens in the span of a single moment, suspended in true infinity.

All for One laughs, a twisted thought in the dream that interrupts her, and Ochako turns back to him.  But it's not Uravity he sees, instead it's—

You can’t be anyone’s Hero, Shimura Nana.  Your time has passed.  You will watch as I take everything from you yet again.  The sun will never rise and tomorrow will never come for you.

But Ochako just smiles.  All for One doesn’t understand the wildfire he’s playing with.  He doesn’t understand how here, in this space, it’s all about will.  His will was never enough on its own to take One for All, to dominate his brother, and to become king, because he is and has always been weak.  He is a parasite and a worm, hoping to piggy-back off of the purer, more intense will of people like Izuku or Tenko, and Ochako won’t stand for it anymore.

She glares at him and wonders if he knows what true infinity looks like in the face of it now.

She will show him that, too.

All for One raises his arm and crimson lightning crackles along it.  Then a cascade of Rivet Stab tendrils and spears of compressed air come flying at Ochako, but she watches and she smiles because this moment, this single moment suspended in infinity, is what she spent her entire life waiting for.

That is what she realizes as she draws her arm back, Blackwhip curling around it, and punches, then the air pressure wave is like a bomb as it blows through All for One’s attack and sends him flying.

“I want you to understand something, All for One,” Ochako says with the voice of nine as she marches forward through a shattered city.  “I want you to understand how little you are.”

Rivet Stab spews forth again and Ochako sidesteps, her every movement creating thunderclaps as the air shatters around her.  All for One is still recovering, but Ochako is already on him and she picks him up by his face, launching him in a twirling arc across the city with Blackwhip, writhing pinkish-black in the dream.

She watches him crash through skyscraper after skyscraper, as buildings fall like dominoes in his wake.  She notes that the sky is black - there is no sky - but it doesn’t matter, because she will see just fine by the light of One for All.

There is a cascading purple laser then, boiling the ground as it flies towards her, and she jumps high into the air to avoid it.  It chases after her, so she flies, using the boosters built into her costume to bank and dodge, weaving towards All for One like a missile.

And he is so powerful but so fundamentally uncreative.  He spent his whole life with the world at his fingertips, so he doesn’t understand what it means to make do with nothing, to make nothing last as long as you can.

So Ochako hits him like a freight train and more buildings fall in his wake as he flies, but she isn’t done yet.

“It’s so pathetic that you were given everything, and you chose to use it for nothing good.  You could have done something worthwhile with your power, you could have done something good.  But no, you chose to be a monster, and you are pathetic.”

All for One swings at her, wild as his anger turns to panic, and she just intercepts his attack and flips him away.  Because he is so strong and powerful, he has no technique.  He has relied on raw power his entire life, just like All Might, approaching every problem head-on with the knowledge that he was always the brightest flame in the room.

But now Ochako is the brightest flame in the room, her fire white and brilliant in the darkness, and she is going to make All for One pay.

“You will never hurt him again.  You will never touch him again.  You will never see the light of day again, All for One, because you don’t deserve to.”

A blue dragon, fast like a shooting star, flies at her.  She connects with it with her fist and it disintegrates, then there is another crack of air as she flies straight at All for One.  But he gets lucky, he gets above her attack and finally hits her with a giant hand, and it pins her and takes all of the air out of her lungs.

None of it is real, this battle in the dream, but she feels all of it, gasping in pain and for breath as he tries to pulverize her against the ground.  She is desperate, suddenly flattened under an impossible weight, and she realizes that she can’t do this alone.  She can’t do this by herself and she never could.

She can’t do this without Izuku.

She can’t speak as she is crushed and she is desperate for air, even though there is no real air in the dream, because All for One is suffocating.  So she thinks, as loud as she can, blindly hoping Izuku can still hear her and that he’s still safe.  He has to be safe; that’s all that matters.

Izuku!  Please, listen to me.  I need… I need your help.  I can’t save you if you can’t save yourself.

And his response is sullen and sad, like a boy trapped in the corner, afraid to be seen.

I can’t save anyone… I’m not a Hero like you, Ochako.

No, you are, Izuku.  You’re Deku.  Deku means you can do it!  You can be a Hero, too:  you can be my Hero!

She hears a sound and it echoes into infinity all around them.  It sounds like the gears of a machine sliding back into place after maintenance, and suddenly, All for One is weaker.  Ochako gets her fingers onto his enlarged hand and there is a pink glow, then he is weightless.

He is weightless and powerless, and for a single moment, Ochako smiles.  Then she kicks him with a sonic boom and he goes careening into the sky where there is no sky.  She is already up and moving - there are no marks on her in the dream, because All for One cannot hurt her anymore - to fly after him.

“You can be my Hero, too, Deku.  I just need you to believe I can save you.”

And she can feel him smile, and it feels like love and warmth, spreading through the dream as she catches up to All for One.  Up here there is no light, no stars, no sky, just the blackness and them, but she grabs on to him.  White fire is the only way she can see him as she spins in an arc with Blackwhip and throws him back at the ground like a cannonball.

She watches him fall, then she puts her hands together.

“Release.”

Then she is falling, too, as gravity is quick to claim her, so she straightens out her body.  She is going to hit All for One and she is going to hit him with everything, just as All Might did.  As he was meant to, as he already has, and like he never did.  She remembers his words, the words he never said but the words that were meant to be, and she smiles.

Farewell, One for All.

But this isn’t farewell, because she is with Izuku, and together, they can prevail.  So she hits All for One against the ground in a tremendous, violent explosion of light and feels it.  There are nine voices in the dark, but now there is a tenth, too, and it feels like Izuku.  She can’t tell where his mind, his body, his soul ends and hers begins, because together in One for All there is no distinction.

All for One is obliterated, his Vestige destroyed.

And the dream is purified.

It is purified, and Ochako feels the weight of All for One’s presence, his hatred, his malice, disappear like a mist over a lake.

Suddenly, there is a sky, and the sun rises as Ochako straightens in the crater she’s left behind and looks back.  She sees little Izuku, wearing his All Might onesie and standing in awe of her.  Then he flickers, and for a moment, he is Midoriya Izuku, Deku, the Ninth Bearer of One for All.

He waves at her, smiling and wearing a Hero costume.  She smiles back, seeing the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen in her life, then she points at him.

“Now it’s your turn, to stand up for yourself,” she says.  He laughs and she hears it, and she hears how happy he is.

Because he is free.

Because he has hope again.

The dream fades to white and ash, and when Ochako wakes up, she's still smiling.

Ochako woke up and she was still smiling.

But they were covered in water and filth, and she realized that they must have been out for at least thirty seconds, because the water was up to her knees now.  She quickly stood as One for All burned bright around her, then she jumped towards the platform where it was still dry with Izuku still in her arms.

When she landed, she stopped only briefly to adjust him in her grasp, then she knelt back down and cradled him close, staring at him.  He needed to wake up - he needed to - and she felt her breath catch in her throat as she stared at him.

“Izuku… Izuku?  Please…”  She whispered, but he didn’t respond.  He was breathing, she could see it and feel it as he rose and fell, but there was no response.  One for All kept burning around them, heating up the air and drying them so they wouldn’t freeze, but she just stared, prayed, and hoped.  “Deku… please wake up…”

He grunted and coughed, like his lungs had been filled with liquid, even though she kept him out of the water the best she could.  She watched his eyes flutter open and they were red again, instead of the beautiful green they were supposed to be, but she still began to giggle and sob.  She was hysterical, happy and sad in equal measure, because even though they were red, they were still beautiful.

Because he was still alive, so she could still try to make things right.

“Deku… can you hear me?”  Ochako asked, and she watched his bleary eyes try to focus on her.  She smiled, hoping she looked as encouraging as she felt, despite how much of a mess she was, and he tried to smile, too.  It was a tiny, weak thing… but it was there.

“I… Yeah, I can, Ochako,” Izuku whispered.  “I… I saw things while we in there.”

Ochako chuckled at him and she didn’t even care that she was crying on him.  He was crying, too, but they were both smiling, and that was what really mattered to her.

“What kind of things?”  She asked, though she had a good idea.

“The things that were supposed to be,” Izuku said, and Ochako sighed.  Nana had a funny way of helping, but Izuku deserved to know the truth, too.

“So, do you believe me now, that you wouldn’t have believed me without seeing it for yourself?”  Ochako asked, and he swallowed heavily.  He needed water, she realized.  He had been hurt and he needed water, and they were still trapped in this fucking hole, and she wanted to scream in frustration but she bit her tongue.

She still needed to save him, because it wasn’t over yet.

“Yeah… yeah, I wouldn’t have believed you,” Izuku admitted, and she chuckled again.  “But… it was nice to see that I - we - were supposed to be happy…”

“Do you see why you’re worth saving now?”  Ochako asked, and he pursed his lips.

“I’m not sure I’d go that far…”

She scowled at him, but before she could find the words to scold him, the whole room shook violently again and she looked around in horror.  Bits and pieces of ceiling fell again, more than ever before.

All the hair on the back of her neck stood up straight as Danger Sense screamed, so she quickly picked Izuku up and darted away from a larger rock that almost cracked her right over the head.  One for All flared brighter for a moment, washing the whole room in pink, then it died down again as she huddled with him closer to a wall.

“I… I am gonna try something really stupid,” Ochako admitted with a hint of trepidation.  The smug look on Izuku’s face shouldn’t have been allowed with how hurt he still was.  “Don’t start with me, Deku,” she added, and it didn’t make his smugness dissipate in the slightest.

The room was still shaking as she set him down, and for a moment, his eyes went wide and he gripped her costume as hard as he could.  It started to tear and the look of fear on his face was wild and panicked.  He whimpered out half-formed words, ‘please don’t put me down,’ so she leaned over him.

She pressed a kiss into his hair, then rested her forehead right against his so she could stare at his eyes only centimeters away.

“I am never going anywhere,” Ochako said, her gaze piercing and intent.  Izuku blinked slowly, then nodded.  Even if he was clearly frightened, scared, and small… he let her put him down.

Then she stood and One for All flared back as hot as she had ever felt it go before, like white fire in the dark instead of the usual pink, as she stared at the wall.  She wondered, was she about to make a horrible mistake?  Did she do all of this for nothing, because she was still going to die in this deep hole with only Izuku?

Would that have been worth it?

I still believe in you, Ochako.

Nana’s voice was calming and soothing in the dark as Ochako drew back her arm.  She slowly took a long breath through her nose, then exhaled through her mouth.  Blackwhip curled around her gauntlet like a second layer, writhing and contracting.

Then she punched forward with all of One for All like a bomb, and it ripped through rock, concrete, pipe, and everything else like fire through ice.  She turned her emergency beacon off on her armor, scooped up Izuku as quickly as she could, and ran.  There was a hole now, as debris fell and the whole room began to collapse from the force.

Izuku held on to her tight, burying his face in her chest as she held him, and he was exactly where he belonged.

She bobbed, weaved, and darted forth like lightning, and she could only pray that the force had created a sufficient path.  She relied on Danger Sense to guide her through the falling debris, thanking the Fourth Bearer like an internal mantra as she went.  She couldn’t see very well at all, but she realized as she ran that she must have created a full path and she must have created an entire opening.

Because between the falling rocks threatening to crush and trap them forever, she saw stars.

So Ochako kept running.  But this time, she wasn’t running away.  There wouldn’t be anymore running away, if she could help it.  Because this time, she had Izuku with her, and they were running together.

Even if it cost her everything.

For a long time, Ochako ran, like a pink shooting star in the night.

She was sure that she had created enough distance when the destroyed city gave way to suburbs, hills, and highways, but she just kept going.  There were no helicopters, no real way for them to track her.  Without her suit emergency beacon on, her suit wasn’t transmitting any data to Melissa and Mei like it usually would.  She had disabled that feature, too, so it was just her and Izuku.

As she went, she eventually reached more city, and that was when she stopped.  She stopped using One for All, she stopped jumping and flying and leaping, and she just… stopped.  And there, standing in an alleyway with Izuku in her arms, she looked down at him and realized she didn’t have any kind of goddamn plan to save her life.

That was when the weight of what she had done - what she was doing - hit her in its entirety.  Here she was, a professional Hero - in the Top Ten, no less - and the Ninth Bearer of One for All, carrying All for One in her arms and running away from the police and other Heroes.  He was small, weak, and vulnerable, broken and shattered, and unable to protect himself.

It was her duty, her solemn vow as the Ninth Bearer, to defeat and apprehend, or if necessary and if possible, kill Izuku, yet she was protecting him now.  The Bearers had an open dialogue about this in her mind, with the older Bearers - the Second, Third, and Fourth - arguing with the newer Bearers - the Fifth and the Sixth - about things.  One for All and Nana were curiously silent, and Toshinori never participated verbally in these talks.

He couldn’t yet, not when he was still there to talk to in reality.

She contemplated going to him.  Taking Izuku’s bruised and battered form to the former Symbol of Peace himself and begging for help, because he would help her.  Toshinori would help her without hesitation, and she knew it, but she couldn’t force that on him.  She couldn’t drag him into her mess and her mistakes.  They weren’t his to fix.

So she walked through moonlit back alleys and side streets with Izuku in her arms, considering her options in the darkest night.  Izuku was silent, passed out since they left the subway system, and she hoped he was having a nice dream.  She wondered if he would have dreams from Nana - that would explain her curious silence - or normal dreams.

She wondered if he dreamed about her, and the thought was confusing.

She had said that she loved him, in that moment when it mattered, and she had meant it.  But she wasn’t sure if she loved him or the idea of him.  She wasn’t sure if she was enamored more with the idea of saving him or with the him that should have been.  But she had seen glimpses of that version of him - the kind, thoughtful boy who had been smothered and taken by All for One - and she wondered:

Could she ever hope to bend or break that back into place, the best she could?  Or was he too far gone?

She wasn’t sure what she wanted.  She wasn’t sure what ‘saving’ meant, what ‘responsibility’ or ‘forgiveness’ or ‘atonement’ meant.  The weight of Izuku’s sins in this life were immense, but then, didn’t everyone deserve a second chance?  Could he be blamed, truly, for what had been forced on him?  She knew that the answer was yes, but it was too sad of an answer to really accept.

Their superhuman society had always said that there were Heroes and there were villains, and the line between them was sharp, bright, and true.  Izuku fell on the wrong side of that line, but not because he ever wanted to be.  Now she had a chance to bring him to the other side, to show him that there was another way to live, but she wondered about things.  She wondered, indeed, if the problem was that line the whole time.

Not that she condoned what Izuku had done.  He’d never had a good motivation, a good reason for what he was doing, other than the reality that he wasn’t given a choice.  He was fulfilling his father’s will because it was the role he believed he had been thrown into, and he didn’t know anything else.  He was marching to someone else’s drumbeat, a drumbeat he didn’t think he could ever escape alone.  But she wanted, so desperately, to believe that, if given the chance, Izuku would do better now.

Would Tenko do better if given the chance?  She wondered about that.  Nana always spoke of Tenko and Izuku together, two metaphysical halves of her whole heart and soul, and she had always said—

Izuku, my little love, my second child, the one I hope to do better by.  I save him… because I can’t save little Tenko or his family.

Nana spoke for the first time in what felt like hours, so Ochako came to a dead stop and considered her words.  She wasn’t sure what to think or what to say, but whenever Nana spoke, it was always something important, so Ochako went back to walking, slower now, and kept thinking, hoping she might find the words soon.

It was cold, so cold, but Ochako wasn’t worried about that.  Izuku wasn’t that warm and she wasn’t that warm, but what warmth they had was shared as she carried him.

She only hoped that she was keeping him warm enough, because he was in so much worse shape than her.  The worst of his injuries had been healed - overhauled - but he was still hurt, and not all of it was physical, either.

Fighting in the dream of All for One and One for All left scars, deep, black, and painful, and she knew they wouldn’t heal so easily.

Ochako stopped again in another alley and leaned her back against the wall, willing herself to stay vertical.  Izuku wasn’t that heavy - and she was strong - but she was exhausted, bruised, and battered.  She wasn’t in good enough shape to keep going for much longer, but she was going to try and push herself forward, anyway.

For Izuku, and for Nana, too.

“Ochako…?”  Izuku whispered, and she looked down at him and smiled.  It was forced, she was so tired, and only the wall kept her knees from buckling and sliding down to the ground with him in a crumpled heap.  Her eyelids were so heavy, but she willed herself to focus on him and the sound of his breathing.  “Where… where are we?”

“Uh… I think we’re… near Esuha City?  I haven’t seen a sign recently…”  Ochako admitted, her breathing heavy, and she realized how winded she really was.  She’d been so lost in her head, but as soon as she stopped it all caught up to her so fast.

“Do you… Do you know what street we’re on?”  Izuku asked, his voice barely audible but for the silence of the night.

“No, but…”  She looked up to the sky and tried to get her bearings from the position of the moon, to figure out her directions.  “Esuha Market should be to our… left, I think, about four blocks.  Why?”

“There’s… there’s a safehouse for the League of Villains here.  We took it away from Overhaul, back in the day.  It should be… that way,” he held his hand up above his head, just barely, and pointed down the alleyway behind him, “probably… six blocks?  It will look like an abandoned apartment building.”

“Does it have electricity and water?”  Ochako asked with a frown.

“I don’t believe so.  The safehouse is in the basement, though… The apartment is just the façade on top.”

She nodded; that made sense.  She made herself walk forward again, and she ignored the way that her leg throbbed and her whole body felt like it was on fire, which wasn’t from One for All.  She couldn’t use the quirk right now, both because she was too tired and because she was wary of attracting the attention of patrolling Heroes or police officers.  She had already had to hide a few times in doorways and behind garbage bins to keep them safe.

Izuku didn’t say anything as they went, but she saw from the corner of her eye that he was still awake, albeit barely.  His breathing was shallow and wheezy, and he looked at her with half-lidded, cloudy eyes.  He needed food, water, and rest badly, and she tried to walk a bit faster as her body screamed in protest.

“I’m sorry, Ochako,” Izuku whispered, and she paused at the exit to an alleyway to check her corners.

“Don’t be sorry, Deku.  Just… stay with me, please?”  Ochako whispered back, and she saw the ghost of a smile on his lips.

She saw the building she was looking for - it had to be it, it was the only abandoned-looking apartment among others that clearly were occupied - and she quickly crossed the street and walked towards the door.  It was late now - after one in the morning, last time she had seen a clock in a store window - and there weren’t really any people around anymore.

“Is there a specific entrance I should be using?”  Ochako asked.  Izuku hummed negatively, so she walked around to the side and found a door near the back.  “Brace yourself,” she added as she stepped up to the second door.

Izuku clung tightly to her, hiding his face away as she brought her leg up.  One for All flared pink for just a moment as she shattered the door forward.  It had been boarded up, but that didn’t matter in the face of her strength, and splinters flew as the door hit the wall with a crash.  When it fell, it fell in pieces, but Ochako was already moving, walking down tiled hallways and looking for the appropriate door.

“It should be… the third one on the left,” Izuku said absently, and she picked up her pace until she found a door labeled ‘Emergency Exit.’

It was a push door, thankfully, and she braced her side against it to get it open.  There were no alarms or lights as she might have expected, and it led downwards against all logic, instead of out.  Izuku must have had it right, so she carefully got his body through the door before she hurried down the stairs.

By the time she reached the bottom - four flights of stairs - she was panting for breath and Izuku had passed out again.  The shaking up and down must not have agreed with him, and he was so pale that she felt a stab of fear and guilt in her heart.

Please hold on.  Please.

She opened the door to his safe house and had to resist the urge to cheer when the light switch worked and the room was clean.

This wasn’t home.  But… they were safe, at least for now.

Chapter Text

Ochako is dreaming again.

But this time, it’s a new memory, a new dream.  Nana has been relentless in the past day, showing her dreams new and old.  Showing her things she didn’t know yet - things about little Izuku and little Kacchan, things about little Izuku and little Shouto - and things she always knew but was afraid to see.  Things about her, little Ochako and little Izuku, and the things that were supposed to be and never were.

The things that might be yet, if she can grab hold of his hand in the dark and never let go.

Now, though, she stands on a skyscraper.  The sky is clear, bright, and sunny, and she looks around and basks in the glory of its warmth.  She has been so cold for so long, but now she is warm.  She knows that warmth - she smiles, not bothering to look down and see how she’s wearing her Hero costume - and she turns to see her.

To see Nana, standing on the skyscraper with Ochako, her white cape billowing in the wind.  Nana smiles, pulling it up with her index fingers covered by yellow gloves, and Ochako giggles silently into the daylight.

“How are you feeling, Ochako?”  Nana asks, as if she doesn’t know the answer already.  But she’s still smiling as she drops her index fingers, and so is Ochako.

It’s nice of her to ask.

I’m doing well, Nana.  I… I feel a little better now.

Nana takes a step towards Ochako and turns, then they both look out over the expansive cityscape.  This is a memory that Ochako doesn’t recognize - she wonders, is it her memory or a phantom memory, a memory that should have been hers? - but it’s still beautiful.  The sun is high in the sky, and the city looks so peaceful.

But there are hints, the tell-tale signs that the peace is a lie:  the way there are smoke plumes rising here and there, the occasional glimpse of a police car she sees going down the roads below with lights on, and the way that the stillness of the air doesn’t just feel like the dream.  Ochako turns to Nana, an unspoken question on her face, but Nana doesn’t return the look.

She never has to return the look, because she always knows.  But she’s still smiling, like she’s in on a joke that Ochako doesn’t understand yet, and it’s the funniest joke she’s ever heard.

“You remember, right?  I told you that you’d always be each other’s Heroes?”  Ochako nods.  She will never forget.  Nana points up into the sky and Ochako follows her finger’s direction, squinting.  “There you are.  You’re falling… and you’re falling together, like it was always meant to be.”

And she sees it, she sees them.  Little Ochako is falling fast, back-first, and adult Ochako can’t see her very well, but it’s clear that little Ochako is battered and hurt from the way her profile is missing a boot.  And there’s another figure there, falling fast - falling faster - and she sees him reach out.

They take each other’s hands and, abruptly, they are no longer falling.  Ochako begins to cry at the sight as the dream provides:  they stopped falling because of Zero Gravity and Float, together.

“You still have a chance to make things right,” Nana whispers to the side, but Ochako is too enraptured by the sight of little Ochako and little Izuku, suspended in the air of infinity and feeling so happy.  Their happiness radiates through the dream like beauty and light, so Ochako cries.  “But that’s up to you, Ochako.  Only you can make the choice to be there for him… or not.”

Ochako finally tears her gaze away from the sight of what never was and what should have been to look at Nana with blurry eyes, trying to find the words she’s too afraid to say.

What is the right thing to do, Nana?

Nana doesn’t smile but amethyst, cloudy lightning flares around her for only a moment.  The lightning of her One for All, a sword made to destroy, a blade to slay the beast.

A beast that Ochako did slay, with Izuku at her side.

“I don’t know what the right thing to do is,” Nana admits sadly.  “I only know that I want to see you both happy.  Please, find your happiness, Ochako… Find it and hold on for dear life.

“Find home.”

And like that, Ochako feels like she’s falling through the fabric of reality itself as she wakes up.  When she does, she feels like she can see beautiful gray eyes staring right into her soul.

They are full of love.

Ochako woke up because her elbow slipped off of her knee.

She almost fell forward off the chair she had been dozing in, barely catching herself with Float to avoid crashing right into Izuku on his cot.  She breathed deeply through her nose, trying to get her bearings as she looked around.

She remembered… She had carried Izuku over to the bed and got a wet hand towel to clean off his forehead.  But she had sat down heavily in the chair, swearing she would rest only for a moment, and then…

Ochako turned and looked at the clock.  It was just after three in the morning, so she stifled a groan.  She had been out for at least half an hour then, so she forced herself to stand from the chair.  It would be even worse if she fell back asleep at this point.

Not until things were put back together, at least.

She finally got to take her headband off, wincing because she could tell how grimy and filthy her hair was.  Her headband collapsed into a nice little rectangle, then she stuffed it into her chestpiece compartment.  Then, one-by-one, she deactivated Melissa’s advanced armor sections and they collapsed into little rings that sat on her wrists, her ankles, and her neck.

That left her with only her bodysuit protecting her feet, but at least the safehouse was carpeted.  She walked over to the sink and turned it on, waiting patiently for the water to go from frigid to warm.  Then she splashed herself in the face with the water, trying to keep herself going.

The hideout was… small, mostly.  There was a tiny living space with a kitchenette in the corner, and a cot along the wall.  That was where Izuku was, though it seemed to be the only available sleeping space at the moment.  There was a coffee table, two chairs, and a tiny bathroom with a stand-up shower through a doorway to the side.

The room was smaller than even her first apartment had been when she started at UA, but… it would do for now.

The first thing she did, once she was sure that she wasn’t going to fall asleep again, was head over to the bathroom.  She had to go, so she took the opportunity to take her bodysuit off.  It collapsed into her belt with a white glow, the same way the armor collapsed into the little rings, and it would fix itself while it was collapsed that way, at least.

She took the belt and the rings off, leaving them in a corner on the sink while she did her thing.  Then she unceremoniously jumped into the shower and only regretted not waiting a little bit when the water started out freezing.  She was definitely awake now, at least.

The soap that was left there was not particularly great, but it was better than being covered in grime, dirt, her own blood, and Izuku’s blood, and the thought made her shudder as she scrubbed herself clean.  She went over herself three times, trying to get the feeling of what had happened off as much as the dirt itself.  She also washed her hair twice, though by the time she was done, the hot water had drawn back down to lukewarm.

She got out and toweled off the best she could, then checked herself in the mirror.  Wiping away the steam, she saw that she looked awful.  Her face was haggard, she had eyebags, and her eyes were so dim from their normal chocolate brown.  Her blushmarks, usually bright and visible, were now entirely gone, and she frowned at herself.

It was striking how quickly things could go bad.  How quickly things could change.

She put her belt and the little rings back on, reactivating her bodysuit.  It enveloped her in a bright white glow, then she checked and made sure the rips and tears were gone.  The armor and suit were self-cleaning, so she silently thanked Melissa and Mei.  She was fairly sure that, without them, she would’ve died years ago.

Then she walked back out into the little room.  Izuku hadn’t stirred at all, which was probably good.  He needed the sleep.  She smiled at him, a small and distant thing, then walked over to the fridge.

She was a bit wary of what she would find.  Looking carefully, most of the food was expired or unappetizing.  She knew someone had been in this place before - there was the distinct smell of cigarette smoke and she briefly wondered if that had been Dabi - so she decided not to trust anything in the fridge.  Instead, she started rifling through cabinets and found some canned soup.

She pulled out two cans and shut the cabinet door, and that was when she realized there was no microwave.  Looking through more cabinets, she found a pan at least, and there was a small stove top to work with.  It was sufficient for the task.  She was used to making do with less, at any rate.

She hummed quietly to herself as she made soup.  The canned soup was something hearty and chunky - a cream-based soup, according to the label - which was good.  She was starving, and she could only imagine Izuku would be even hungrier when he woke up.  The memory of him admitting that he didn’t eat properly flicked through her mind, stopping her humming for a moment as she frowned.

Maybe she would make three cans of soup.

It took about fifteen minutes for her to cook both cans of soup she started with and deposit them into some disposable bowls she found.  Grabbing two plastic spoons, she brought the bowls over to where Izuku was and gently sat down in the chair, pulling it slightly away to make space.  Then she set the bowls next to her on the ground, one on each side, and just… sat there for a moment.

She looked carefully at him, watching the way his chest rose and fell as he slept.  He looked so peaceful, more than she had seen him in the last day, even if he was dirty and his costume was partially destroyed.

She had observed him a lot while they were stuck together, probably more than was reasonable, because she wanted to understand him finally.  She wanted to understand what motivated him and what he wanted from life, she wanted to understand what had been taken, and…

She wanted to understand how to save him, if she could.  For a brief moment, she heard the rising voices of the Bearers again as they continued their debate without her.  She looked up to the ceiling and glared, thinking about the Second and Third Bearers specifically and daring them to speak to her in that moment.

The voices went silent.

“Deku… Hey, Deku?”  Ochako said gently, tilting her head back towards him as she did.  He stirred, scrunching his face up, and… honestly, he really was adorable.  He looked better in green, though.  She hoped he changed that back, though that was a distant consideration in the face of more important things.

“Deku,” Ochako repeated, and Izuku finally stirred awake.  She watched him blink quickly, his eyelids fluttering, then he focused on her.  He smiled like she was his whole world, and it was a pleasant and beautiful thing to watch.  It made her feel… warm.  “I made you food.”

He blinked a few more times and watched as Ochako picked up a bowl and held it towards him.  She leaned back slightly to make even more space for him as he carefully sat up and adjusted himself on the cot.  Swinging his legs, he sat up sideways on it and carefully took the bowl in his hands.  He held it in his lap, and she watched him just… stare at it for a few moments, as she picked her own bowl up and began to eat.

“It isn’t poisoned,” Ochako deadpanned, and Izuku looked up to her with a pout.  “I could fix that, though, if you wanted.”

“Very funny,” he said, and he finally took a bite.  “Thank you for…”

He trailed off, and she inferred that he meant to say ‘for the food,’ and ‘for everything,’ and probably other things, too, but she just smiled.  She understood just fine without him saying anything, because she had been inside his head now and he had been inside hers.  In the true infinity of One for All and All for One, she had seen his entire life in a moment, then more after that.  The life he had, the lives he could have had, the life he should have had, and the same for herself as well.

Suddenly, she could understand why Nana was so goddamn cryptic all the time.  People said they wanted the truth, but the truth was often overwhelming all at once.

“You’re welcome,” Ochako said, then for a time they ate in silence.

If she looked awful, he looked even worse.  He had all kinds of bruises, marks, and small cuts, and she was so caught up in studying them that she was a bit surprised when he looked up at her again.  He had been looking at his food as he ate, but he seemed quite startled to find her gaze so intense.

He raised an eyebrow, but Ochako just smiled softly.  He wouldn’t understand, yet he also probably already understood.

“You’ll need to shower, then I can help clean and dress your injuries,” Ochako said matter-of-factly.  Izuku looked thoroughly confused.

“I could just heal them…”

“And make yourself sick?  Don’t be silly,” Ochako said immediately.  “You need to eat more food and sleep, then…”

She paused, blinking slowly, and realized that she hadn’t planned that far ahead yet.  All the confusion and disorientation about what the hell she was actually going to do from last night came roaring back, so she stared blankly at Izuku without seeing him as she thought.

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that she refocused on him, noticing that he looked completely mortified, his cheeks lightly dusted with pink.

“And then I guess I’ll tell them that I killed you,” Ochako finished, and Izuku turned redder and looked aghast.

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll tell them I killed All for One,” Ochako said, changing her wording for clarification’s sake.  Izuku opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again as it dawned on him what she actually meant.

“There’s no way that flies,” he pointed out.  He took another bite of his soup after he said it and looked away from her, shyness on his face.  She had already finished eating, so she just rolled her eyes at him.

It was curious, yet wonderful, to finally see the real him.  Something she’d only seen glimpses of before, but now it was like she had thrown open a door instead of staring through a keyhole.

“I don’t see why not.  Technically, it’s the truth, isn’t it?”  Her question came out more like a challenge, so Izuku choked on his food.

“I… I guess.  That’s a very philosophical way of looking at things, though…”  Izuku said, but Ochako just laughed.

“After what we’ve seen, that seems entirely appropriate,” she pointed out.  He didn’t verbally challenge her, but he did make a little huff of amused annoyance.  She watched him finish his food - and took minor pleasure in how flustered he seemed at that; not necessarily in a bad way, but it was very funny - then she took their bowls and threw them out in the trash in the corner.

After that, things proceeded in a very quiet way.  Izuku went to shower, and she could tell, as she watched him retreat into the bathroom, that he was in a lot of pain as he moved.  He was in the bathroom for about fifteen minutes before he called through the door that he needed help.

He was so small and clearly humiliated when she entered, then he admitted in a tiny voice that he couldn’t get his clothing off.  In a way, it was embarrassing, intimate, and a kind of closeness that they had never had, yet she found she didn’t mind.  But also, it was necessary, and there was no sensuality or sexuality to helping him undress.

He was hurt - hurt quite badly, as she saw the large bruise that had blossomed across his right arm from where he broke his fall, and the cuts, bruises, and even burns he had across his upper body - and he needed help.  It was a stark, simple reality of being a Hero to help him with it, and Ochako found she wasn’t particularly confused or bothered by that.

Maybe she was just too tired.  She did count the scars he had, the faded memories of battles past, as they went, however.  He had so many scars, so many of those faded memories, and that hurt her in a deep way.  They were a whole story that she wasn’t there for - couldn’t be there for - and it broke her heart a little to see.

Izuku was more than a little flustered.  But he also didn’t say anything, and slowly, he began to relax, at least as much as he could with how much pain he was in.  She realized he was comfortable and he probably felt safe with her now and that felt far more intimate and close than the actual act of touching.

His bodysuit peeled off slowly, and he kept wincing and hissing in pain, but she eventually got him free of it.  She never looked at any part of him that she shouldn’t have, and when he turned to look at her, his face scarlet, she just looked right at his eyes and asked him if it was okay to leave him now.

He was still embarrassed but he smiled and nodded, then came out of the shower twenty minutes later wearing a towel and looking much better.  She dug around in the room in the meantime and found a small trunk with some clothes in it.  It was a mixture of men and women’s clothes, so she sort of guessed at what size Izuku would be and gave him some of the clothes that seemed appropriate.

He ended up wearing a baggy flannel jacket over a sweatshirt and some sweatpants.  He looked comfy when he sat back down on the cot, and she made him another bowl of soup.  It was… suitably domestic, despite how absurd it all still distantly felt.

Despite her protests, he ended up using his quirks to heal himself, at least a little bit.  Enough that the rest could heal naturally without worrying about infection or things not going back the way they should.  Ochako had scolded him for that, but… at least he would be okay, or so she hoped.

By the time he was done and had laid back down on the cot, it was close to six in the morning.  Ochako sat back in the chair next to him and contemplated what the hell she was going to do.  Sitting there with her elbows on her knees and her hands folded in a prayer-like stance in front of her face, she rested her forehead against her fingers and sighed.

What was she going to do with Izuku Midoriya, now that they were out of the fire?  They might have been out of it, but they were still right at the edge, and she had sounded much more confident than she really felt when she told Izuku her plan.

Part of her, the part conditioned by years of training, fighting, and running away from the reality of what Nana had told her, wanted to just turn Izuku in and accept the way things were.  The worst part was that she knew he would understand, and on balance, he probably wouldn’t even blame her.  He thought so little of himself that he would think it was the right thing to do.

She still remembered when she had been given One for All, and how she had received the vivid dreams from Nana Shimura about the little boy without a fate who was meant to be the Ninth Bearer of One for All.  The little boy named Izuku Midoriya, who she had always felt a little bit like she had stolen from.  She had stolen his fate, stolen his power, and left him careening in the dark where All for One trapped him.

She had always run away from that reality because it was too deep and frightening to consider.  But now she had actually gotten a hold of Izuku and pulled him out of that dark, and she had never thought about what would happen after this point.

How could she save someone who their superhuman society adamantly declared was beyond saving?

Or, maybe more importantly:  should she?

But Nana spoke then, and her voice was like love from within as Ochako began to drift off to sleep again in the chair.

You didn’t steal his fate, Ochako.  I chose you so that you could save him.

And you did.

Thank you.

When morning came, Ochako walked alone into the nearest police station.

From there, everything exploded.  The station’s phones rang off the hook, and on the news, the reporters talked non-stop about how Uraraka Ochako, Uravity, the Symbol of Hope, had been found.  How she was safe, how All for One hadn’t been able to snuff out her flame, and how the nation had waited with bated breath to see if their Hero would return unharmed.

Ochako looked out the window of a helicopter as she was brought to the primary regional hospital, a few hours later, and thought about what they would say if only they knew the truth.  The whole truth and the real truth.  The truth about who Midoriya Izuku was meant to be.

Would they still be cheering on his death?  She knew that the answer was yes, and that was the saddest part to her.

She saw doctor after doctor with healing quirks when she reached the hospital.  They put her in a hospital gown and kept shining lights in her eyes, checking for concussions and residual effects from trauma.  They scanned and scanned, looking for any trace of damage from All for One, any internal issues, anything.

They didn’t find anything unexpected for someone who had been moderately crushed under a skyscraper.  On balance, she was in pretty good shape - considering she had been stabbed - and, eventually, the doctors left her alone.  By the time she was allowed to put her costume back on and take another shower, she felt like she was ready to just sleep for the rest of the year.

Bakugou was there at the hospital, laid up for his broken bones and internal damage.  He didn’t take the news of All for One’s ‘death’ well, and Ochako wasn’t sure if that was because it made him sad or because he wanted to be the one to kill All for One.  She considered that maybe he felt both at the same time, and she contemplated visiting him discuss that.

But the two of them had never gotten along, and she knew he wouldn’t want to see her, anyway.  It wasn’t like she wanted to see him, either, especially after what she’d gone through in the last day.

Instead, she sat down slowly in the waiting area of the hospital, sinking into the chair and vaguely hoping it might swallow her up.  Detective Tsukauchi would be picking her up soon for debriefing, so she would wait.

Maybe she would read a magazine and pretend like things in her life were normal and like she wasn’t this close to falling apart in the lobby.  She felt the hot sting of tears but she couldn’t cry here, not in front of—

“Uraraka?”

Ochako snapped her head up from the little coffee table, her hand hovering over one of the magazines, and found Shouto standing there.  He looked a bit worse for wear, wearing a hospital gown and with his right arm in a cast, a bandage stuck to his forehead.  He gave her a little wave with his left hand, while she blinked several times in confusion, gaping like a fish.

“T-todoroki!  You’re okay!”  She almost launched herself out of the chair, planning to give him a hug, before her brain reminded her that his arm was in a cast and that would hurt.  That left her halfway out of the chair like a dork, so she carefully sat back down, feeling like a fool.  “You’re okay, right?”

“I’m pretty good,” he deadpanned as he walked around the coffee table and sat next to her.  “It’s not as bad as that time that I crushed Bakugou’s hand in that exercise in our second year.”

“Oh my god, Todoroki, he was fine.  He just cried about it like a baby, that’s all.”

Shouto gave her a small smile, but he wasn’t looking right at her.  He was staring vaguely in front of her, and she realized he was looking at her left hand, with how she had her arms draped over her knees as she leaned forward.  She straightened her posture slightly and tilted her head at him in a silent question, then he cleared his throat as he came back to reality.

“Are you okay?”  Shouto asked as he refocused on her, and Ochako nodded slowly.

“It was… It was tough,” she said, blowing air out of her mouth with a sigh as she spoke.  “It was… really tough.  But I’m okay.”

It was a lie, but she wasn’t sure if she was lying to Shouto or to herself more.

“Did you get him?”  Shouto asked, and she rolled her eyes at his choice of metaphors.

“I… I did, I guess.  He died protecting me.”

It was an interesting lie she had chosen, a lie that was not a lie, yet it was a lie all the same.  Shouto stared at her for a moment, his expression perfectly blank and his mismatched eyes distant.  Then he held up his left hand and looked at it as she watched the smallest frown cross his face.

“Do you know, when you got there, what he had said?”  Shouto asked.  Ochako shook her head; she hadn’t heard because her radio was down by that point in the fight.  “He was going to take my quirk, and I… I was glad.  I was afraid, but a tiny part of me was glad, because I felt like it might be better that way.”  Shouto clenched his left fist.  “And he said to me, ‘You know, Frostfire, I wish I’d been born with a power like you were born with.  I could’ve been a great Hero, just like you are.’”

Ochako gasped.  Shouto turned to her with sad eyes.

“For a moment, he was crying.  I was so stunned that I wasn’t ready for it, when he lunged for me.  But I… I don’t think he was lying, and that’s the worst part.”

She knew how much Shouto struggled with his quirk and what it meant to him in relation to his father.  It was one of those things that very few people knew in the class.  Shouto was only really close with Ochako, Tenya, and Momo, and it had taken him a long time to trust and to let them get that close.  It was one of those things that was off with the world.  That was what Nana said, but now Ochako looked at Shouto and thought:

Maybe this small part of the world isn’t so off anymore.

“I’m sorry, Todoroki,” Ochako said.  Shouto just hummed and dropped his hand, then blinked at her like he’d been lost for a few moments again.  “But I’m glad that you’re okay.”

Shouto pursed his lips, lightly biting the bottom one, and Ochako understood that, really, he wasn’t okay.  She wasn’t okay, either, though, and that was okay.

They could be not okay together.

“So,” Detective Tsukauchi said as he sank into his chair across the desk, “let’s start from the beginning.”

He raised his right hand and made a little twirling motion with an index finger.  Ochako sighed as she sat down, too.  She spent too much time in his office.  It was a given, since he was one of the few people who knew the truth of One for All.

Well.  He knew most of the truth, anyway.  Enough to keep things moving, at any rate.

For a moment, she looked at a framed photograph on his office wall.  It was of her in her third year at UA, wearing a PE uniform and smiling brightly for the camera.  Toshinori was there in his awful yellow pinstripe suit, and Tsukauchi was on the other side, wearing his normal detective outfit for work.  It was right after her third Sports Festival, the one that she took first place in, and both men were smiling with her.

Ochako wondered if they really could have been as happy as they looked in that photo when there was something missing from their lives.

“We were fighting,” Ochako began, coming back to reality, and Tsukauchi nodded.  “In the middle of the fight, the government sent fighter jet cover.  I almost had him, I… I had him in my hands, Tsukauchi.  But I hesitated and the missiles came, then… everything fell apart.”

Detective Tsukauchi pursed his lips, nodding again.  Everything was conforming to what they knew already so far.

“So… we were trapped in that hole for… a long time, who the hell knows.  We had watches, but it didn’t… really matter.”  Tsukauchi frowned but didn’t interrupt.  “I was… I was hurt very badly.  I was impaled on a piece of rebar.  And… All for One healed me.”

“He did what?”  Tsukauchi blurted out.  Ochako frowned at him, knowing that he knew she was telling the truth.  He closed his mouth and motioned apologetically with his hand for her to continue.

“He healed me.  And… for a while we just sat and talked.  We took turns sleeping and trying not to die from the cold.  Then I turned my emergency beacon on, and I guess you all… started blasting?”  Tsukauchi nodded but he was scowling.  She guessed that was not his favorite idea in the world.  “A pipe burst down there, and, um, we were going to fix it, so… so we didn’t die from the space filling up with water.”

Tsukauchi sipped on his coffee as she spoke.  She drilled holes in his desk with her eyes, trying to focus on the next part because it was the most important part.

“All for One… He was hurt when another blast came.  He was dying, and… I killed him.  I killed him, so he wouldn’t have to die slowly, then I ran, and… I collapsed.  I was just going on instinct, and after I woke up and got my bearings, I found the police and went there.”

Tsukauchi set his coffee down on his desk harder than was necessary.  It sloshed a bit at the edges, and a thin line of brown ran down the side.  He was staring intently at her when she met his gaze, but she was defiant.  She dared him to challenge her, lie-detecting quirk or not.

“You’re lying,” he pointed out.  “But not entirely.  What… He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” Ochako said firmly, flatly rejecting his implication, and she saw Tsukauchi visibly relax, because at least that part was true.  “No, and… All for One is dead.”

Tsukauchi squinted at her, disbelieving.

“That is true… but I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying either way, Uraraka.  How the hell does that work?”  He asked, and she realized he was genuinely dumbfounded.  He didn’t know how to grapple with the way her statement was a lie.  Yet, metaphysically, it was true.

“Tsukauchi, did you ever meet Nana Shimura?”  Ochako asked, and she watched his eyebrows fly up to his forehead.

“Not personally, no.  I heard a lot about her from All Might, though.  Why?”  He replied, and Ochako chuckled.

“I killed All for One,” Ochako repeated insistently.  “And if… you trust and respect me - not personally, not professionally, but as the Ninth Bearer of One for All - you won’t… ask me to explain to you how or what happened, ever again.”

Detective Tsukauchi stared at her for a long time before replying.  Distantly, she wondered how lukewarm his coffee was by now.  Her own coffee sat untouched where she had placed it on the desk.  It was probably frigid, and she shivered as she thought about the time she spent in that hole and how frigid it was there, too.

“Alright,” Tsukauchi said.  “As long as… you’re sure.  Are you really, really sure about this?”

“I have never been more sure of anything else in my life, Detective.”

It took a long time for her to come to terms with that.  It was only the afternoon of that day she’d spent in the hospital, the next day after she’d spent a day with All for One, the man who would be king, yet it felt like forever.  She spent every moment she wasn’t talking with someone thinking, considering, and trying to decide what she wanted to do with her life now, and what she wanted to do about All for One.

Moments spent staring out the windows of moving cars and helicopters, moments spent staring out the window at the hospital, and moments spent in silence with Shouto in the lobby area.  He said little after their initial conversation, but he was there.

He was always a good friend.  It was a pity, really, that he had never had friends before he came to UA.  Just like Izuku, he was the boy who deserved better, who had deserved so much more than what he had been given before.  But at UA, Shouto was given a chance to have friends - to have a better life - and that was something that had been denied to Izuku.

So Ochako had made up her mind as to what she planned to do.

“If you’re sure… then I’ll put in my report,” Tsukauchi said.  Ochako didn’t smile at him, because she didn’t have the energy for that.  But she did nod firmly as she stood, then she tensed for one moment standing over his desk as she thought about it.

“Do you think I did the right thing?”  Ochako asked, and she knew it wasn’t a fair question.  Tsukauchi couldn’t possibly know the answer to that, yet she so desperately wanted to know his answer.

He stared at her and she watched him swallow, clearly recognizing that this moment was important to her, but baffled as to why.  She wondered if he felt Nana there with them like she did; her presence was overwhelming, a mixture of sorrow and warmth together.

“I think you always try to do the right thing,” he settled on saying.  Ochako swept her gaze over him one last time and nodded again, satisfied with his answer.

She left his office then, her coffee untouched and cold, just like her heart.

Chapter Text

For a long time after that, Izuku did not see Ochako in person again.

When he woke up, she had left.  At first, there was a crushing sense of sadness and loneliness to that.  He had walked over to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror and just… cried.  He cried to himself, sank to the floor, and just… collapsed for a long time.

Eventually, he forced himself to get up.  He always had before, after all.  Staring at himself in the mirror, he ran his hands through his hair and clenched on handfuls of it.  There were sparks of crimson lightning mixed with a green glow, then he had green hair again as he watched his eyes change colors in the mirror.

Green.  They were green, the way they were supposed to be.  Not red, like they had been made to be.  He remembered in the dream, distant like a phantom memory, that Ochako had always loved the green and hated the red - but only in his eyes, not his shoes -  and the thought was delirious as he assessed himself in the mirror.

His hair came out fluffy like it used to be, and he wanted to smile.  He hadn’t seen himself - his true self - in person and not in a dream in so long.  But he didn’t smile, because he couldn’t force himself to smile.

At least he didn’t look like Mikumo Akatani anymore, the boy that Father had made him into.  He looked like Izuku Midoriya, a ghost in Japan’s superhuman society.  Because officially, Izuku Midoriya had been dead for a decade, and now, so was Mikumo Akatani.

Izuku gathered this fact as he walked through the streets a few weeks later.  All the news ever talked about was how Ochako Uraraka, Uravity, the Symbol of Hope, had defeated the Symbol of Terror and made Japan safe once more.  There were discussions about how she was a shoe-in for number one Hero next cycle, and that made Izuku smile a little bit.  He didn’t mind Ochako finding success off of his loss, after all.

She deserved that much and probably more still.

Slowly, he collected himself.  He grabbed his spare costume and buried it in the bottom of a suitcase along with whatever normal clothing he owned.  He quickly realized that an abnormally high percentage of his clothing was dress clothes, so as he gathered up money he went out and bought some more… normal, casual clothing.

It would be easier to blend in that way.  Between the clothes he had and the clothes he bought, he ended up with two suitcases worth, and he owned a car.  Most of the League of Villain’s assets had been seized or frozen, but he had enough money to survive on for just himself.  He was all alone in the world, but for the first time, he felt like that might be a good thing.

At least it was just him on his lonesome, and not him and the voice of Father, too.

After that, he lived in one of the old League of Villain safehouses in Kyoto for a time.

There was plenty to do and see there, but Izuku spent most of his time getting things in order:  obtaining sufficient paperwork for travel under a false name, making sure no one recognized him as Izuku Midoriya, that sort of thing.  His picture as Mikumo Akatani had been so thoroughly ingrained in the public consciousness for the last five years that nobody recognized him with green hair and green eyes again.

But then, he did look at himself in the mirror, once he was cleaned up and had gained some weight back after eating properly for the first time in years, and he did look really different.  He looked… healthier.

And happier.

There was an underlying fear, though, as Izuku tried to readjust to something like normal life.  He didn’t know where he was going or where he should go, and that was scary.

He considered trying to contact Ochako, but quickly decided that was unwise.  She was spending almost every waking moment dealing with the aftermath of the ‘death’ of All for One, in between press conferences and award ceremonies.  He could only ruin things if he tried to contact her, so he didn’t.  He wanted her to have her moment, and he felt like she deserved to live a normal life now, free of the shadow of All for One.  After all, that was what she had given him, too.

Slowly, he adjusted properly to being alone.  It was funny, in a way.  Even when he was All for One and the leader of the League of Villains, he’d never really been alone.  He had associates and underlings, but his relationships with them were always dysfunctional and defined by their professional roles.  They were villains, people cast out by society, and so, appropriately, he had been surrounded by freaks and weirdos.  It suited him, since he was a freak and a weirdo, too.

Now, he had no one, but there were advantages to that.  He learned how to do simple things:  how to cook and clean for himself, how to keep his clothing consistently washed, and how to keep a regular, healthy sleep schedule.  It was entirely incongruous, because in the past those things were either handled by others or simply not worth consideration.

But now, he had a chance to be normal… and he held on to that for dear life.

He didn’t choose Kyoto for any sightseeing reasons, however.

That night with Ochako was in January.  As days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, Izuku formulated plans.  He was intending to travel, most likely; maybe he would go to America or Europe and find somewhere he could blend in and disappear.  He wasn’t sure what he would do then.

Ochako’s words to Father about how he could’ve done something good and instead chose to be a monster sometimes echoed in his mind as he made plans.  He decided he would probably choose one of All for One’s more innocuous quirks and claim that as his ‘real’ quirk on official paperwork, but past that, he wasn’t sure.

There was a sorrow he felt, constant and crippling but distant like a fog in his mind, that he still had All for One.  Part of him had hoped the quirk would be lost after… after the dream.  But it was not lost, even if the vestige of Father had been destroyed.  He supposed he could theoretically get rid of it, but then he wondered…

Maybe it was his to keep.  A reminder of what he had done, like a brand or metaphysical scar on his soul.  He had been born quirkless and now he had a terrible quirk - the worst quirk in history, the most monstrous and awful one, one that could only take and never give, not truly - and the irony was that he wished he was quirkless again, instead.

Maybe he would never be a Hero… but he would never be a villain again, and All for One was a continuing reminder of what he never wanted to be like again, if he could help it.

As such, All for One could die with him, and he could make sure it left the world properly.  He would be the last Bearer of All for One, just as he… was meant to be the last Bearer of One for All, in a life that never was.

His whole life otherwise was in shambles.  He had no official formal education past the age of ten, though he had been nominally educated by All for One.  He had no real medical history anymore, and he had effectively no records of his relevant existence in the last few years.  All of the records of Izuku Midoriya had been wiped out, sealed, and destroyed by the government when Mikumo Akatani rose to power, so now there was nothing left but ashes.

Izuku considered this as he stood on top of a building and looked across the way.

The building he was standing on was a parking garage, and the building across the way was an apartment building.  Here, in Kyoto, there were many such apartment complexes, but the one he was looking at was special.  It was possibly the single most important apartment building in the nation to him, yet he was just standing there, looking at it like a fool.

He was searching for the courage to walk down to the street level and cross the street so that he could go inside.  He would walk up the stairs and go to apartment 4C, then he would knock on the door and hold his breath.  Part of him would pray that she wasn’t home, that she wouldn’t answer the door for him, and that she wouldn’t see him.  He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to see him, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to have to see him.

Yet he also knew how thrilled she would be to see him, after a decade apart.

Inko Midoriya lived in apartment 4C in the building across the way.  She had a new name now, though he didn’t usually acknowledge it.  It was a name she had to take because of him, so he preferred not to think about it.  She was still his mother, though, and even if he couldn’t imagine how disappointed in him she was… He liked to think she would still be happy to see him.

Maybe she would cry a river of tears yet again because of him, tears of joy this time instead of sorrow.  That was what parents did when they found out their dead children weren’t really dead, wasn’t it?

But Izuku wasn’t sure, he wasn’t sure she wanted to see him and he wasn’t sure that seeing her wouldn’t put her at risk.  He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t break her heart again, so here he stood on top of a parking garage, feeling like a fool.

Izuku swallowed heavily and looked down at his hand.  He was holding the last All Might figure he had saved, treasured, and protected.  His mother had given it to him, and his father would have taken it away.  Yet here he stood with the figure in his hands, and his mom across the way, while his father was dead, and he couldn’t force himself to take that first, hardest step.

“Hey, Deku.”

Izuku whipped around and was met with Ochako, wearing a business suit, her hair tied back in a ponytail.  She had a long, thin black tie, and she clasped her hands behind her back and smiled at him, while he looked at her with his jaw on the floor.

He wore dress clothes today, too.  He hoped he looked nice for his mom - he wanted to show her that he had indeed finally learned how to tie a tie properly - wearing a simple black three-piece suit and green tie.  Between the two of them, though, Izuku realized that he and Ochako kind of looked like they were going to a funeral, and that seemed entirely fitting to him.

“H-hey, Ochako.  I… How did you find me?”  Izuku asked, and he actually stuttered.  He hadn’t stuttered since he was probably fourteen, yet in the face of Ochako - and she was very pretty today, dressed for a funeral or not - he stuttered.

He was pretty stunned, though, in his defense.

“You dork,” Ochako said as she walked towards him.  Izuku flinched, not sure if she was gonna smack him, give him a hug, or something else entirely, and she frowned at him and did none of those things.  Instead, she stopped just past him and leaned over the concrete edge - which came up to their forearms - and looked across the street.  “She misses you, y’know.”

Izuku sputtered incoherently, not sure how the hell that was an answer to his question at all.

“Izuku,” Ochako said, and Izuku snapped his mouth shut with a click.  “It’s your birthday.  Where the hell else would you be?”

He blinked slowly, processing.  He had forgotten entirely that was the reason he’d chosen today specifically to come here.  His birthday had stopped really mattering to him a long time ago.  It did not bring happy things during his time with Father.  He chose today for his mom’s sake, much more than his.

Accordingly, he was shocked again when Ochako held out a small wrapped box for him, which she had been hiding behind her back.  Izuku accepted it with a slightly befuddled expression and tore the packaging off.

“I haven’t gotten a birthday present in ten years…”  Izuku whispered, reverent and in awe as he held up the All Might figure for good measure.  “This was the last one, actually.”

Ochako just smirked and jutted her chin out towards the box.  Izuku nodded, remembering that he was halfway done, and turned only to put his All Might figure back in his car.  Then he opened the box and furrowed his brows at what he found.  Picking it up and holding it by the little metal chain, he stared at it, then he tilted his head to stare at Ochako past it.

“An… All Might netsuke?”  Izuku asked hesitantly.  Ochako nodded insistently and Izuku wasn’t sure—

And then the phantom memory hit him like a runaway train, of him giving her this netsuke, and how it was supposed to be, then he nearly dropped it on the spot.  He fumbled with it in the air for a few moments, instead, and caught it, cradling it like a baby even though it was tiny.  He looked entirely ridiculous, but Ochako didn’t laugh, and he realized she understood because she had seen the memory that never was, too.

“You remembered…”  Izuku whispered, and Ochako nodded slowly.  “I feel like… I should give it to you, then.”

“Nope,” Ochako said matter-of-factly.  “Stick it on your keys,” she added, and she gestured to the car keys sticking halfway out of his pocket.  He quickly complied, digging them out before they could fall on the ground and attaching the netsuke.  Then he held up his keys and smiled at them, and he almost wanted to cry.

“You really do cry at the drop of a hat…”  Ochako said quietly, but she was smiling, and Izuku realized his vision was all blurry because he was crying.  He laughed, trying to rub his face off with the heel of his hand, and stuffed his keys back into his pocket.

“Thanks… Ochako,” Izuku said.  When he was done wiping his eyes, he saw that Ochako was still smiling but it was a smaller, reserved thing now.

“Why are you just standing here doing nothing?”  Ochako asked, her tone betraying that she probably knew very well why he was standing there doing nothing.

“I, uh… I’m afraid,” Izuku admitted.  Ochako sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers.

“Did you know,” she began, still closing her eyes and pinching her nose, “that I've met your mom before?”  She looked at him and he shook his head; he had no idea.  “After I… After I became the Ninth Bearer, I spent time at her home.  I tried to understand what happened, but I was just a kid then.  I couldn’t make sense of what was and what was supposed to be, but your mom never cared.  She invited me in like a daughter, even though I was open with her that it was my duty to defeat you.  Do you know what she asked me?”

Izuku bit his lip and shook his head.

“She asked me to make sure that, no matter what I had to do, no matter if you had to die or go to jail or anything else, that you did it as Izuku.  Not Mikumo, Izuku.”  She reached out and gently jabbed her index finger into his chest.  “I didn’t get it when I was younger.  I told her I wasn’t sure I could promise her that… but she was so devastated, so I said I would try if I could.  But I get it now, and I kept my promise.”

Izuku was speechless.

“So, that being said, I am going to frog-march you across this street, and you’re going to go see your mother and introduce me properly,” Ochako continued in Izuku’s silence.  He opened and closed his mouth a few times, processing her implication.

“As… what?”  He asked, and Ochako turned a bit pink and looked away.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I don’t know what we are.  I don’t know who you are yet.  But I told them I killed All for One, and that was a promise, too, not the truth.  So wherever you go, I guess I’m going, too.”  She turned back to him with a severe expression.  “Because that’s another promise I have to keep.”

She held out her arm, motioning for him to start walking across the roof.  He did so, stopping only to throw out the packaging from her gift in a waste bin, and he thought seriously to himself as they went.

“Hey, Ochako?”  He asked, and she hummed in acknowledgement as she took a comfortable walking position next to him.  “What if… I said I wanted to move away?  Would you still come with me?”

Ochako looked at him carefully, squinting, as if gauging if he were serious or joking.

“Everywhere needs a Hero,” she said after a moment, as if it were a simple thing.  “I did my duty as the Ninth Bearer here, in Japan.  If you want to see the world, well… I’m sure I’ll still fit in, somehow.”

“What if I don’t fit in?”  Izuku asked as they reached the stairs.  Ochako just laughed, to his surprise.

“You’ll fit in, Deku.  Of course you will.  You’ll be with me.”

Izuku hesitated with his hand on the door handle, staring at Ochako and waiting for the punchline.  She stared back defiantly and he realized she was entirely serious.  He wondered then what that would mean, what being with her would mean.  What it could mean and what it should mean now.

What he deserved and what should have been.

“Alright,” Izuku said, and he gave her a tiny smile.  “Are you… ready to meet my mom?”

She laughed again and it was high and bright, and for the first time, he thought he was seeing her truly happy.  Not in a dream or in a phantom memory but for real, right in front of him, and she was happy because of something he said.  He cherished that feeling of making her genuinely happy, and he never wanted it to go away.

They descended the stairs together, each of his footfalls feeling heavier than the last, and he thought about what he was going to say to his mom.  He thought about his future, where he was going, and what he would do and he realized:

He didn’t know the answers.  He didn’t know the answers to any of it, and it was terrifying.  But he had a choice now.  He might not be home yet, but with Ochako beside him, he was fairly sure that he would be safe.

He was fairly sure he could find home, and maybe that was what actually mattered.

Izuku carefully, slowly, and hesitantly raised his hand to the door of apartment 4C and… hovered there.

“You can do it,” Ochako said confidently, and he wished he felt as sure as she sounded.  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  Then he rapped his knuckles on the door twice, then stepped to the side.

Ochako narrowed her eyes at him in judgement, but she didn’t make him stay within immediate view of the door.  There was a long quiet, and Izuku could hear muffled ‘oof’ sounds coming from inside the apartment, as if someone had been in the middle of something and was interrupted.  After about a minute, the front door opened, and for the first time in ten years, he saw the face of his mother.

She registered Ochako first and it broke his heart how her face fell.

“Oh… Uraraka, how… how nice to see you again, it’s been too long.  If you came to check on me, dear, please don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

Inko sounded so sad, so defeated, like her sun would never rise and tomorrow would never come for her.  Izuku almost wanted to reach out to her just like that, but he felt frozen to the spot.  Meanwhile, Ochako had the biggest, stupidest shit-eating grin on her face, and he watched his mother slowly go from sorrow to confusion as she registered that.

“Mrs. Midoriya, I brought you a present,” Ochako said, and Inko furrowed her brows.

“A present… but today isn’t…”  She started, but he watched in slow motion as she turned her head, registering that there was another person outside her door.

The silence that followed was deafening as Inko’s eyes went wide as dinner plates.  For what felt like forever, Izuku and his mother just stared at each other like deer in headlights, and Izuku felt like he wasn’t breathing anymore.  He heard his own blood pounding in his head like drums, but he was almost certain his heart had stopped.

“I… Hi, Mom,” Izuku said, then she sobbed.  She sobbed and she probably was going to scream, except he stepped forward and hugged her, and she was trying to crush him as she soaked him in tears.  He let her, hugging her back, and he was home.

“We should go inside,” Ochako said absently, but neither Midoriya heard her.  She just gently pushed them back into the apartment, and they shuffled like awkward penguins, not willing to let go of each other.  The door clicked shut, then reality sped up again for Izuku.

“I can’t… I can’t believe it - the news!  The news - Uraraka, the news said you killed him!”  Inko was trying to whisper, she really was, and Izuku giggled a bit as she held him close.  Ochako cleared her throat awkwardly.

“It’s… complicated,” Ochako admitted.

Inko took that moment to step back and look at Izuku properly with her hands on his shoulders.  He was taller than her now, taller, leaner, and more properly built than he had been so long ago.  He’d gotten himself back into shape in the past six months, and his baby fat was gone, but he was still recognizable as Izuku Midoriya.

Izuku turned to Ochako, finding that she was looking at framed photographs on the wall.

“Y’know,” she said, “I’ve seen all of these photos… but it’s wild to see them and see you next to them.”

Izuku laughed awkwardly but, when he turned back to Inko, he saw that she had transitioned from crying waterfalls to staring intently at him.  She radiated disappointment, and he shrank in the face of it.

He was in for it now.

“So if they think you’re dead, what have you actually been doing?”  Inko asked, and Izuku swallowed nervously.

“Mostly just sitting in a room and watching television.  I worked out a bit.  That sort of thing.  I haven’t done… any villainy, since January,” Izuku said, and Ochako snorted in amusement at him saying ‘villainy,’ so he looked at her with a pout.

“I’m sorry, I cannot take you seriously as a villain like this.  All for One really is dead.  Oh, I wish I could take a picture of your face right now with your mom…”  Ochako trailed off, her smile evaporating as Inko turned to her now.

“They said you killed him!”  Inko said, but this time she was angry instead of happy.  Ochako went as pale as a sheet.

“I lied!”  Ochako admitted, throwing her hands up, and Inko looked like she was about ready to murder both of them.

“You’re both grounded.  Forever,” Inko declared firmly.  She turned and pointed at her couch.  “Go and sit down, so I can make some tea.”

Izuku and Ochako hustled over to the couch, fearing for their lives.  He sat down on the end, expecting Ochako to sit on the other end and maintain some space between them.

Instead, she sat down right next to him.  He waited for his mom to leave - and did not miss how she glared death at the two of them as she went - before he turned to Ochako.

“Um… What happens now?”  Izuku asked, and he gestured vaguely behind him towards the kitchen where his mom was.  “What… do you want me to tell her?”

Ochako stared blankly at him for a moment, as if not seeing him at all.  Then she looked down at his right hand on his thigh and reached out for it.  He made a small, strangled noise of surprise as she threaded their fingers together, then she looked back to him and shrugged.

“I don’t know the answer to that,” Ochako said simply.  “I don’t know where we go from here.  I never thought I’d make it this far, if I’m being honest.”

“Do you…”  Izuku trailed off.  He was going to say ‘do you like me, like I like you,’ but that sounded so thoroughly childish in his head that he didn’t even want to say it out loud.  Ochako stared at him, probably picking up on that, and shrugged again.

“We’ll find out,” she said, and it was hilariously noncommittal as an answer, yet Izuku had never felt more hope in his life than that moment.

“Alright,” Izuku said.  He turned just in time to watch his mother come back in with a tea set.  She still looked thoroughly displeased, but when she saw that they were holding hands, Izuku watched her anger melt a bit.

Izuku cleared his throat before continuing.

“Um… Mom?”  She set the tea tray down and sat in the recliner chair across from the couch.  There was a little coffee table in between, and Izuku looked down at the tea set sitting on it while he searched for words.  “I, uh… I wanted to introduce you to Ochako Uraraka.”  He paused and bit his lip, turning to Ochako.  She smiled encouragingly and nodded.  “She’s… my friend.  And I wanted to ask if we can start over?”

When he looked back at Inko, she was smiling so brightly, and he didn’t realize how much he had missed that.  She looked good, considering what had happened.  She had lost most of the weight she gained before - years of stress took that weight off, just like it had put it on - and she seemed a bit more frail than he remembered.  But she still had that green hair and her kind eyes, and he remembered—

She looks like Nana.  Or does Nana look like her?

Izuku smiled as Inko responded.

“Of course, dear.  We can start over.  I always… I always hoped you might come home one day, against all odds.”

Izuku and Ochako smiled, too, and she squeezed his hand.  The truth of it all washed over him like a wave, and he realized how happy he was, for the first time in years.

He was home.