Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Somewhere—Midoriya could hear them quite clearly—bells were ringing. Probably from a shrine in the city, his ever-whirring subconscious pointlessly provided. No wait, the big one in Toruyoyo Park. If it was any other shrine, I wouldn’t be able to hear it all the way out here. Wonder why it’s chiming…I should stop distracting myself.

Midoriya gripped the railing of the bridge with both hands, and leaned down, looking into the choppy water below.

I hope I didn’t make anyone too worried, leaving the reunion party like that. It was kind of sudden, and…who am I kidding. None of them would even notice I was gone, the way I’ve been behaving lately. I ditched Jiro’s rave, I snuck out early at Kouda’s picnic, I zoned out right through Kirishima’s big speech…I know I should be better, but I just can’t keep up with them and the job at the same time! I’m falling behind as it is! I’ve been a bad friend to all of them, Tsu, Tokoyami, Iida…

...Ochako and Shouto.

Midoriya ignored the cold and gripped the rail tighter, so hard his knuckles began to turn white.

…don’t be a selfish bastard, Deku. You’re just friends, great friends, and that’s all, and you’re lucky to have either of them. If you say anything about how you feel, you’ll just fuck everything up like you always do. You know neither of them could possibly like a worthless, quirkless, piece of shit you in that way, and they’re both so cool and attractive and capable I’ve bet they’ve got tons of potential partners. Even if one of them did like you in that way, was desperate enough to settle for you, there’s no way they’d just…what, share? Let you be greedy like that? You’d have to choose between them, and it’d ruin your friendship with the other one forever! It’s better for everyone if you just ignore your stupid feelings and try and move on…

…they’ve noticed I’ve been ignoring them, haven’t they? I saw them through the window as I was leaving, the way they were talking to each other. They didn’t look happy. I’ve been trying to shield them, but I just ended up hurting them again, didn’t I? Just another classic Deku screwup. I should just stop speaking to everyone, it’d be better that way

They were leaning pretty close to one another before I left…

….I hope they get together. Shouto needs someone who’ll keep him cheerful and won’t let the black clouds in, and Ochako needs someone steady who can provide for her and keep her level. They’d be happy together, much happier than if either of them had to be with me, with my selfish whining and boring interests and spending all my time at work…

I don’t deserve them, either of them

Midoriya bit his lip and stifled a sob. Even if there was no-one around to hear, he knew that if he started crying, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and when (if?) he returned to the reunion party he didn’t want to have his emotions written on his face.

C’mon, Deku, where’s that smile, huh? That heroic smile, that symbol-of-hope smile, the one that makes people feel things are going to be alright? Just slap it on your face even if you don’t feel it just the same as you do every day and head back to the party and have a good time…

No wonder I’m doing so badly at being a hero, if I can’t even save myself.

Almost unconsciously, Midoriya pulled his hands closer into his body against the cold, resting his elbows on the bridge’s railing, gazing down on the dark and empty bay.

I should stop feeling sorry for myself. 23’s a great rank for only three years after graduation, really, if you compare it to most other heroes out there. There are plenty of great heroes like Fatgum who never broke the top thirty, and besides, rank is just a number! It’s just a big popularity contest, it doesn’t mean anything…but a hero’s job is to be popular. Not popular like an idol, popular like…well, a hero. Someone you can look up to, someone that makes you feel that things are going to be alright, someone who inspires you to make a change, who saves people even when they’re not there. That’s the kind of hero I want to be…and if I can’t be that kind of hero…

…people keep saying I’ve got my whole career ahead of me, but last year I was at 24, the year before at 22…it feels like I’m just running in place! All Might debuted at 17 on the billboard, and I’m meant to be his successor. I don’t care if he keeps telling me different, he’s just trying to make me feel better, I need to make a big impact like he did! I can’t be a Symbol of Hope if no-one knows who I am, and I can’t do interviews because I’m boring and I ramble they’d all just laugh, they’d see how useless I was so I have to keep doing patrols and keep doing patrols and hope my numbers go up and keep doing patrols and ignore my friends and keep doing patrols and leave my Mum’s birthday early and keep doing patrols when’s the last time you even looked at your notebook or watched TV or had a proper meal and keep doing patrols and keep doing patrols and keep doing patrols and keep doing patrols…

…and I can’t even do those right.

Midoriya had stopped bothering trying not to cry at this point. Heavy sobs filled the night air, as tears flowed down his cheeks and off the edge of the bridge. He tried hard to think about his friends, his crushes, his job, anything to move his mind away from the subject he’d been trying to avoid for the past—hour? Hours? How long had he been standing, lost in his own thoughts, on this chilly bridge alone?

I…I really shouldn’t have lost my temper. It was hard not to…the things they say her name were doing to those kids, the way they say her name laughed in my face, what she HER DAMN NAME said when I rose to her bait…

“Who gives a damn? They’re nulls! Hell, you should be thanking us for taking potential burdens off the streets!”

…it shouldn’t have mattered, what she said. I wish it hadn’t.

Tsuribashi Akumi. Her name was Tsuribashi Akumi. She worked under the name Chain Gang. Her quirk, Cable Hair, well…it did pretty much what you’d assume. Her fighting style was based on trying to tangle or grab opponents that were smaller and weaker than herself into her hair’s metallic coils. This made her highly effective as a kidnapper and abductor. She grew up in a deprived neighbourhood, with few opportunities for employment, and no real family or other forms of support. Her previous convictions showed a typical spiral downwards from petty theft and vandalism to…to organ harvesting. She had issues with substance abuse that likely accelerated her descent. She liked to play the guitar. She had a cat that she wouldn’t admit to feeding. She swore to her neighbour that this would be her last job.

She’s lying in the Jesutefado Ward Morgue, with a shattered spine, because I lost my temper.

What kind of hero am I?

Midoriya’s phone beeped from his pocket. He ignored it. If it was his agency, he’d already cleared his case backlog and unless Tsuribashi had returned from the dead, nothing else could have changed. If it was his friends…he didn’t want to think about talking to his friends right now. That only left the news app, and that wasn’t exactly going to improve his mood.

…what’s the point of a hero, really? We save people from disasters, from villains, from despair if we’re lucky…but all those things come around again, because they’re created by forces beyond our control, forces we can’t do anything to stop. Nothing’s changed since I was a teenager, really. Villains are still everywhere, it seems like there’s another new S-Class Threat every month, we’re back to the pre-All Might status quo with people afraid to walk the streets. We’ve still only barely got a social safety net, discrimination still runs rampant, and the Commission…they’ve been challenged, sure, but they’ve still got a death-grip on Japanese heroics. The people who trained Hawks got burned, but most of the top brass haven’t even been ruffled, and none of the reforms are getting through the Diet! They’re all happy to prop up the broken system that’ll lead to another collapse…

…and whose fault is that? Who should have done more to challenge the Commission when they were teetering? Who should have spoken out about inequality as soon as they got a public platform, rather than waiting and wasting the moment?

Midoriya turned his eyes from the bay and looked down at his hands. His twisted, mangled, broken useless hands.

Whose fault is it that there isn’t a new All Might?

He slumped down, folding his arms on the rail and resting his chin on them. A thin trickle of tears ran down his reddened cheeks, falling into the bay.

…why am I here? There’s nothing I’ve done that any other hero couldn’t have done better. I bet a proper successor, someone carefully chosen instead of being randomly selected after rushing in like a useless idiot, they’d probably have restored an era of peace by now useless, people would believe in them, they wouldn’t have broken themselves useless and mastered the quirk right away, they wouldn’t have useless lost their cool and killed someone over the truth an insult, they wouldn’t alienate useless all their friends, they’d be able to USELESS get over themselves USELESS instead of falling apart over a stupid crush USELESS they’d be able to tough it up USELESS and wouldn’t be emotionally collapsing USELESS on some desolate bridge in the middle of the night USELESS because they weren’t good enough USELESS USELESS USELESS

Midoriya looked down into the dark, choppy, cold waters of the bay, and wondered if it was worth going back to the reunion at this point. It wouldn’t be. No-one would miss him. No-one needed him. No-one would care if…

“Pardon me…you’re the hero Deku, right?”

Shit.

Ordinarily, Midoriya’s instincts—oversensitive thanks to half a decade of regularly having his life threatened—would have pinged well before this sudden interruption. On this occasion, however, some combination of his absorption in his own self-loathing and the cold weather deadening his senses had let someone sneak up on him. Mentally berating himself for this failure, he turned to face this stranger.

“…yeah. That’s…that’s me.”

The stranger looked out, from under their dark wide-brimmed hat, at Midoriya’s vain attempts to plaster a cheery smile over his utterly distraught face.

“You’re not alright, are you?”

Midoriya dropped his instinctive smile, returning to his earlier slump. “…no. No, I’m not.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Normally, Midoriya would have simply responded with deflection, minimised his own problems, and acted the part of a model hero. Normally. Tonight, with a cold wind cutting through him like a knife and his emotional state at rock bottom, he felt in a mood to bare his soul a little.

When he’d finished, the stranger tilted their head slightly to the side. Midoriya worried he’d overwhelmed them—idiot, dumping all your problems on some poor civilian who shouldn’t have to waste their time feeling sorry for you!

“So what you’re saying..." the stranger asked in a clear, quiet, voice, "is that you think the world would be better off without you?”

Midoriya blinked a few times. “I mean…I…I didn’t think that was what I was saying?”

The stranger turned towards Midoriya, pulling their hat a little further down over their eyes. “Isn’t it? You’ve explained to me that you think you’re a bad friend, a bad symbol, a bad crime-fighter, romantically greedy, turning a blind eye to injustice, and a murderer, and anything good you’ve done could be done better by somebody else. What other conclusion could you be working towards?”

Midoriya turned from the stranger, his face flushed. Useless moron, making people worry about you again… “I-it’s not that bad, err, citizen! I’m just, I’m, well, I’m tired. Everything’s fine, just, uh, go home to wherever, I’m alright here, just, it’s fine, I’m fine...”

The stranger’s voice rang out like a bell. “I disagree. With what you said. I can show you why, with my quirk.”

They stretched out their hand.

“Do you want to see it? This oh-so-perfect world without you in it?”

Chapter Text

“Do you want to see it? This oh-so-perfect world without you in it?”

Midoriya blinked in shock a few more times. He’d heard of some pretty wild quirks in his time, but certainly none like this.

Something that could model an alternate world on any sort of scale would require a massive level of processing power, so most illusion quirks that claimed to do such a thing were usually based on either the subconscious of the victim or the conscious decisions of their user, and in both cases would normally try and keep the user within a small radius to reduce the amount of world they had to render, but this bridge is long enough that anything useful for the illusionist, like my HeroNet login details or bank number, would require me to move far out of the quirk’s reach, but depositing me in some fake version of the middle of Musutafu would be suspicious enough to make me notice any incongruities quickly, which would—

“It’s not a trick, I can assure you.”

…I was saying all that out loud, wasn’t I? Damnit!

Midoriya hastily clamped his hand over his mouth. Either I’ve just offended a kindly stranger, or given some villain more details on how best to trap me! Classic useless idiot behaviour…

“My ability…it’s not an illusion.” The stranger continued, seemingly unruffled by Izuku’s rambling. “It’s more in the manner of transportation. Are you familiar with multiverse theory?”

Midoriya nodded.

“Well, what I can do…is travel between those different universes. If I touch a person, I can take them to another universe, one where they made some decision differently. Say, ordering lunch instead of bringing a bento to work. Or, asking out a girl they liked in high school instead of standing by. Or…”

The stranger’s eyes turned on Midoriya, burning brightly under their hat’s floppy brim.

“…the decision to be born at all.”

Midoriya took a deep breath, and watched it form a cloud in the air.

Something…doesn’t feel right about this. It’s not their attitude, how confident they seem—lots of people misinterpret their quirks sincerely. There’s something else that’s off. Best to keep them talking…

“OK. Let’s say that I, that I accepted that you possessed this quirk that was—uh, well, this ridiculously powerful quirk, and not only that but stranger than, well, much stranger than, a…completely unique quirk, to boot. I-if you used it on me…”

“You’d be transported, with me, to that world. A world where you were never born.” The stranger stretched their hands out to the sides. “Your conception failed, and the Midoriyas remained childless. There never was a ‘Midoriya Izuku’.”

“Wouldn’t it just be, well, uh, there’d be lots of worlds like that?” Midoriya asked, sceptically. “I mean, because of how the multiverse works, little changes, uh, would become big ones, and, well, there wouldn’t just be one world where—”

The stranger smiled. “You’re right. What my power does—at least, what I think it does—is deposit people to the ‘average’ universe created from that change. Even in the vastness of infinity, some outcomes are more likely than others. To return to our earlier examples, the worlds where your lunch’s sauce reacts with your desk’s varnish to create a fire are far less common than the ones where the spilled sauce just makes a minor stain. There are features that reoccur more often in the universes that come after those changes, and my quirk selects the universe that shares as many of those features as possible before transporting me there.”

Huh. That’s…really well-thought-out. There’s something that’s niggling at me still, but…maybe this guy isn’t crazy? Probably best to press him a little more…

“Alright.” Midoriya replied. “When you say ‘transporting’…”

“Well, not entirely ‘transporting’,” the stranger replied, “but close enough. Since it’s a world where you—or at least, this precise ‘you’—never existed, it takes you there as a sort of ghost. People have noticed me before when I spoke up directly to them, but otherwise they seem to gloss right over me. I’m sorry if I’m going into too much detail, but I don’t get a chance to talk about my quirk often—for obvious reasons.”  

Normally, presented with such an invitation, Midoriya would have had all sorts of rapid-fire questions about how this quirk worked. Tonight, his spirits were far too dampened for any analysis—even his earlier mutterstorm about illusion quirks was more in the way of a recitation of half-remembered details, and his current attempts to poke holes in the stranger’s quirk were barely worth calling conversation starters.

He simply gave a tired nod by way of reply.

The stranger, in return, merely blew on their hands, tucking them into their pockets against the chill.

Silence hung in the air between the two, like a cloud of chilly breath.

Midoriya broke the silence first. “If…if you were going to use your quirk on me…”

The stranger smiled. “ If? ”

Suddenly, Midoriya realised what had been bothering him for this whole conversation. It wasn’t anything the stranger had been doing or not doing. It was something within himself—no, something that wasn’t within himself.

My…my hands! I can’t feel any pain from my hands!

Midoriya looked down at the railing, and saw, not the broken, mangled digits that always ached in the cold, but…regular fingers, attached to regular palms, that while not exactly immune to the temperature, certainly weren’t crippled by it.

“Since you never existed here, in this world,” the stranger continued calmly, “you didn’t have the opportunity to take part in the U.A. Sports Festival. Hence, you weren’t there to use a volatile quirk in an attempt to break through to your opponent, and your hands, such as they are, are intact. It’s a curious feature, but conveni—”

Midoriya turned to the stranger. The tiredness and confusion was gone from his expression. Lightning arced under his skin.

“Why did you use your quirk on me?”    

The stranger shied away from the angered hero. “I told you, to show you that—”

Slowly but implacably, Midoriya moved towards the stranger.

“Why did.” There were a few paces between them. “You use.” An arm’s length separated them. “Your. Quirk.” Their faces were practically touching. “ON. ME.”

“I…” The stranger was trembling, and not just from the cold. Their words tumbled out of their mouth in a torrent, practically tripping over each other in desperation.

“I told you! To stop you from—from kill—from doing whatever you were going to do! I’m sorry about using it without telling you and I shouldn’t have done that, but you weren’t listening to me, and, andI’mreallysorryandIswearI’mnotavillainand…”

As quickly as they had appeared, the sparks leaping from Midoriya’s skin, and the glow underneath, faded away. So too did Midoriya’s resolute expression. What replaced it, fittingly, was the same guilty apologetic face the stranger now bore.

…what kind of a hero am I? I just sucked this poor bystander into my own personal problems they know what you were going to do , and now I have the nerve to get angry at them for helping! I…I need to…

“I’m…sorry about that.” Midoriya shuffled back slightly, shame-facedly curling in on himself. “I shouldn’t have—shouldn’t have—shouldn’t—”

“It’s fine. I understand. This isn’t exactly a situation to stay calm in…” At this point, the stranger awkwardly trailed off, silently watching Midoriya’s distress.

After a few minutes, Midoriya wiped his nose on his sleeve and stood up fully.

Right. Let’s…just take stock of the situation. I can get bogged down in my emotions later. Let’s see…huh…

“If we’re in the other universe, why—shouldn’t things be a little, well, different ?” Midoriya asked, sweeping his hands around at the bridge, and the bay, and the cold night, all of which appeared exactly the same.

The stranger shrugged. “You’d be surprised. This bridge is here so heavy trucks can get from the port onto the road to Tokyo without going through Musutafu ward’s city centre, and it’s been here since before the quirk era. It’s a stable place—I’ve only ever found the bay without it twice. If you really want change, you’ll have to go somewhere else.”

Midoriya took a deep breath, his now-painless fingers drumming against his leg. “I think…I’ll head back to the reunion. Back to U.A..”

Only logical place to go. If we’re in an illusion, I’ll be able to tell quickly from my friends’ personal details being off. If we haven’t moved between worlds at all, it’s where I was planning to go anyway, so no great loss. If the stranger is telling the truth…

…I’ll see how much happier they all are without me…

Shaking his head in an attempt to dispel his negative thoughts, Midoriya squatted down to the ground. He felt a little bad ditching the stranger like this, but they didn’t seem to be objecting too heavily. Besides, he’d told them where he was going, so they could catch up eventually.

Right, this bridge is specced for heavy goods vehicles, so it should be able to support this fine. If I turn to my right, get a clear line of sight, and use Blackwhip to pull me over the cables…

Power crackled beneath his skin.

One for All…Skywalker Leap!

 The stranger craned their head, slightly, as they watched Midoriya weightlessly streak through the air. They smiled.  

With less sound than you might think, Midoriya dropped to the earth in the bushes outside Gym Gamma, roughly right where he’d jumped away from a few hours ago.

Not a lot of lights…I guess everyone went home. It is getting pretty late and I’m not worth waiting for . It does look like someone left a few of the lights on near the back. I better go in and turn those off…

Midoriya pushed open the battered doors with ease and took a look around the dim hall. He could definitely hear a couple of people talking (arguing? It sounded harsh) near the other end, but it wasn’t quite loud enough to make out the words.

I’m pretty sure I saw Kamakiri be sick in that corner, but it looks like it was cleaned up. Hell, most of this place was a tip a few hours ago, but it looks practically untouched now! Gotta admire U.A.’s cleaning system.

He wrinkled his nose. You’d think they’d have done something about that alcohol smell as well…wait, who’s that guy?

The man approaching Midoriya looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place them. Maybe it was the way their black hair fell in front of their eyes, like Aizawa-sensei’s always did, the generic slightly unzipped jumpsuit they had for a costume, like the one Shouto used to have in first-year, or the desperate, almost needy, fake smile their expression bore, like the one Midoriya saw in the mirror far too often. Regardless, they were definitely out of place here, and were moving pretty intently towards them…to greet them?

“Bakugou! Knew you’d make it here eventually buddy, don’t worry, the party’s not over just yet, and you haven’t—”

The strange man double-took on seeing Midoriya. “Missed…anything…”

For a moment, it seemed the cheerful smile was about to slide from his face. Only a moment—after a few seconds, an equally fake but somewhat more plastic one replaced it. “How’d you get in here, civilian? This is an off-limits gathering of heroes, and furthermore, this area…”

Reeling slightly from the hero(?)’s hackneyed booming voice, Midoriya tuned out the words and tried to compose himself.

OK, Midoriya, think. For whatever reason, this guy thinks you’re some random citizen, so you should probably play along. If you were some rando who’d wandered into a hero convention, you’d probably…aha! That gives me information, too!

Midoriya tilted his head, adopted a surly expression, and tried very hard not to offend Ochako by adopting a version of kansai-ben. “Hero? I ain’t never heard of you! What kinda bull you tryin’ to—”

The fake cheerful expression grew increasingly more strained. “Right. Yeah, you might not have, uh, there’s no reason you should’ve, uh, well, anyway” the hero continued in a timid voice, before rallying slightly. “I’m, uh, Barrier Man! Also known as The Rocky Hero, I, uh, I sidekicked for Ba—for King Explosion back before, well, when he had those, and you might know me as…”

As Midoriya watched the hero speak, watched his mouth, the pieces fell into place.

“…Kirishima?”

Barrier Man startled at the name. “I—how did you—huh. I guess ya have heard of me. Were we…” he squinted “…were you in junior high with me?”  

Midoriya nodded, while backing away, his mind racing. “Yeah, sure, I…listen, you’re right, I gotta go pal, so…”

“Wait!” Kirishima yelled desperately. “I was being kind of harsh earlier, you—you can stay! C’mon! We’re all friends here, y’know? We kind of, uhh, overbooked on the refreshments, so…y’know, if you’re a fan, I could get you an autograph? N-not from me, obviously, but…”

As Kirishima pleaded, Midoriya, still stunned, continued to move backwards into the shadows on the other side of the hall.

“Wait! Hold up! Don’t leave just yet, stay a little longer, maybe…”

Kirishima trailed off. When he spoke again, the positivity was gone from his voice.

“…alright. Be seeing you. Take care.”

In the dim half-light of the hall, Midoriya began to think.

Either someone is playing a very over-elaborate prank, or this isn’t reality. At least, not my reality. This could still be an illusion quirk, but not many people know about Kirishima’s natural hair colour. So, if it is an illusion quirk, it’s using my subconscious for processing, but then I shouldn’t have been able to leap away from the stranger like that if that was the case, the illusionist’s mental image would need to stay near me to keep my subconscious from waking me…  

…speaking of suspicious things, Kirishima really shouldn’t have dropped the subject that quickly. Maybe some of what the stranger said about “fading into the background” was true? If so, why didn’t it work immediately? So many questions…

Midoriya looked towards the door, and then towards the dimly lit end of the hall. Now his eyes had adjusted, he could make out a few people there—not enough for a full class, though.

I should go. There’s no real reason for me to stick around here. Just find the illusionist (if they are an illusionist) and get out.

You want to know, though, don’t you?

Midoriya took a deep breath and began inching towards the other end of the hall, intently focused on the figures there. As he got closer, he started making out their words…

“…just give it a fu—a fucking rest, Tsu. It’s not—s’not—m’not a problem! M’not drunkh!”

“Your drinking is a problem , kero. Pleas Jiro, this is meant to be a fun occasion for the class to get together, and—”

“Don’t make me laugh with that shit. Yeah, sure, such a, such a fun get-together, look at all the fucking fun we’re havin’, all five of ushh…”

 Midoriya, half-hidden by the darkness, squinted to make out the others there, and tried to match the silhouettes outlined by a camping lamp and another, dimmer, light-source, to his classmates.

I know the sound’s coming from Tsu and Jiro—the one slumped on the table looks like Jiro, I can see her jacks. That’s Kirishima on the left, because I saw him walking over…Mina’s sitting down over there, on the phone, and the person standing next to her…not sure. That’s still only five people…where’s everyone else?

From where Midoriya was standing, he couldn’t quite make out Tsu’s face—most of it was in the shadows—but she didn’t exactly seem happy with Jiro, who was refilling a paper cup with what, despite the brown paper bag around it, was clearly a bottle of sake.

“I-I’m having fun!” Kirishima responded, in his faux-cheery voice. “Besides, Bakugou just texted me, and he’s going to be here any minu—”

Jiro glared at Kirishima. “No, he fucking didn’t . We both know he’s at home, back at his agency, some marketin’ guy crawling up his ass, and—and in the other room the conquering hero is busy beating the shit outta that poor ‘kid’ of—”

“Take that back!” Kirishima yelled plaintively. “Bakugou would never—”

“Ohh, don’t act like you don’t—like a lil’ innocent, Kiri.” Jiro spat back. “Speakin’ of things we all know, how’s that crush goin’? Gee, he musta what, said five whole words t’you in the last year? M’sure he’ll come ‘round eventually !”

“Please stop, kero, let’s all just try and have a good time.” Tsu pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let’s all just leave aside any allegations and accusations, and just try and have a good time, kero. That’s—that’s what we all want, kero. We all want a fun reunion. Isn’t that right, Mina?”

Mina sheepishly lifted her head from her phone. “Uhh, actually Tsu…I was thinking of leaving soon.”

Tsu fell quiet, stock-still, with a look of panic subsiding to resignation in the one eye Midoriya could see clearly. Eventually, she opened her mouth to speak.

“What?”

“It’s just…I’m sorry , Tsu, I really appreciate the effort, but there’s a fight between the Army of Villainy and the Jesutefado Vigilantes going down, and they really need me for the paperwork, and Denki was getting kind of tired anyway—weren’t you, Denki?” Ashido asked, turning to her companion.

Huh. No wonder I didn’t recognise him—that’s a pretty severe haircut, and it looks like he’s lost a lot of weight…or maybe never put it on? Weird that she’s talking to him like a child, though…

“Oh, uh, yeah, uh, sorry, Tsu, I’m all…what’s the word? Pooped? Heh, pooped…” Kaminari began to chuckle slightly to himself, before catching his behaviour. “Sorry, uh, yeah, and they’ll need me to pull a big zap on the Army guys…hope Mustard’s there, the asshole…”

“They caught Mustard three years ago, dear.” The weary tone of Mina’s interruption made it clear to Midoriya that she’d had to catch him on things like this before.

Kirishima piped up, still visibly shaken from the argument earlier. “If you guys are going…I think I might bounce? I’ve…kind of had enough of this party.” The last was said with a pointed glance at Jiro, now downing a second cup of sake.

“Wow, fuck me for tellin’ the truth, I guess.” Jiro responded, rolling her eyes. “How’s King Exploshion’s boots taste?”

“I—alright.” Visibly under strain, Tsu turned back to Mina and Kaminari. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer, kero?” Tsu pleaded, her voice wobbling. “It’s not that late, and I’ve got a few fun party games we haven’t tried out yet, kero, and we still could—”

“I’m…really sorry, Tsu.” Mina placed her hand on Kaminari’s arm, and began gently pulling him towards the door, her other hand pushing the wheel of what Midoriya could now see was clearly a wheelchair. “I…maybe next year?”

“You wanna carpool, eh, rocky guy?” Kaminari added, turning back into the hall. “Three people isn’t that many for a party…”

“There’s still Hagakure, kero!” By this point, Tsu was clearly starting to break down, her pleading becoming more and more desperate in a way that felt uncomfortably familiar to Midoriya. “I’m sure she’ll be back any minute…”

“Oh, yeah, fuckin’ suure.” Jiro visibly rolled her eyes, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Right! I forgot! Once she’s done ashashah—assasha—assinnna— killing whoever the Commission want dead this week, who knows, some poor fucking vigilante or, or journalisht, yeah, she’ll wipe the blood off her hands, and go ‘Wow! After that murder, I wanna go hang out inna crappy excushe for a party, and, an, shtand around inna freezin’ hall with, with, a bunch of failures I went to highschool wi—”

“BEING AN ASSHOLE WON’T BRING MOMO BACK, JIRO!”

Silence spread around the room like a fog in the wake of Tsu’s anger. Even Midoriya, concealed in the shadows, took a sharp breath in.

Eventually, Tsu, her head hanging down, broke the silence she created.

“I-I’m sorry. I know you’re grieving in your own way; I didn’t mean to—didn’t mean to—didn’t mean…”

The remaining words were drowned out by the soft burble of tears.

Jiro heaved herself up from the table, putting her bottle back in her bag. “M’know when I’m not wanted…” she mumbled to the room. On the other side of the hall, Mina made slowly for the door, tugging Kaminari along with her. Even Kirishima began to slowly back away.

Eventually, the hall was nearly empty.

“Y’know, Tsu…” a visibly deflated Kirishima called out gently on his way to the door, “You…you don’t have to do this to yourself every year. You could stop.”

Tsu looked up at Kirishima, and took a few steps forward, a bit more directly into the beam of the camping light. Her hands were shaking, tears still ran down her cheeks…but for once, all Midoriya could focus on was her eyes.

One eye was filled with a crushing expression of weariness. The other wasn’t even present—a black cloth patch making a vain attempt at covering a starburst-like scar spreading across the right side of Tsu’s face.

“It’s…not my decision. It’s never been for my sake, kero…”

Tsu moved her hand behind herself, gesturing at the other light source, something else Midoriya could now see more clearly.  

The other sources of light in the hall were candles. Twelve candles, each one with a photo underneath, and a bundle of flowers.

“It’s for them .”

Chapter Text

“It’s for them .”

In a daze, Midoriya slowly made his way over to the cluster of candles.

…it can’t be what I think it is. It’s…what else could it be?

Count the candles. Take away the people who you saw, the people they mentioned…

There’s no way that…

It’s simple logic. Not even that; just arithmetic.

…even if the candles are for…that, surely over half of them wouldn’t be…

It won’t kill you to think it, will it?

With shaking hands, Midoriya reached out towards the nearest photo to him. Tsu, who was packing away a set of unused paper cups, seemingly didn’t notice.

You can handle this. It doesn’t matter who it is that’s de- that’s dea- that has a candle, it’s not real it feels real and even if it’s Ochako or Shouto, you’re a brave hero you weren’t brave on that bridge . You can handle the truth. You’ve just got to move it into the light.

Just move your hands.

All you’ve got to do. Just moving your hands. That’s it.

Coward. Crybaby.

Move your hands.

Biting down on his lip, Midoriya moved the photograph into the light, and braced himself for the familiar face he might find.

…huh?

Midoriya squinted a little, straining his eyes. The image remained the same: a young boy in a U.A. uniform, with dark hair, light eyes, and a total lack of resemblance to anyone Midoriya knew from high school.  

I…what? Who is this guy?

“Yamada Tanto.”

Only fear of exposing himself to a still-cleaning Tsu prevented Midoriya from jumping out of his skin. As the panic subsided, Midoriya realised the voice behind him was familiar—he’d been talking to them on the bridge only a few minutes ago.

“His name was Yamada Tanto. He wanted his hero name to be Dagger Slash. His quirk, Light Blades, well…it produced pretty much what you’d assume. With training, he could have been highly effective as an apprehension-based sidekick. He grew up in a good neighbourhood, with a stable family involved in the hero business, and plenty of academic and economic support. His grades were good, as was his skill with his quirk, and his disciplinary record was clean. He tended to play the blowhard about his skills but did at least have the ability to back it up. He enjoyed whittling. He fed the pigeons outside his room every morning. He swore to his mother that once he got into U.A., he’d make her proud.”

“During the USJ Attack, the boat in the Water Zone was sunk, and he bled out on the end of a trident.”

At any other moment, Midoriya’s mind would have been racing with questions for the stranger—how they got here so quickly, how they knew all this information, how they kept managing to sneak up on a highly-strung pro hero. Right now, looking out over what could only be grave markers for his friends and classmates, he had other things on his mind.

As if in a daze, he moved forward, looking at the next nearest group of photos and candles.

I wish I could say I’m surprised by those two, but…well, the stranger already told me what happened at the boat…

The photograph of Mineta slipped from Midoriya’s grasp, as his eyes turned to another photo.

…and I guess no-one else caught his change in behaviour either.

Iida’s intense gaze almost met Midoriya’s, even through the years between the photo being taken. He looked young, painfully young, and Midoriya tried hard not to remember that young face so wracked with anger, lying in the filth of a gloomy back alley in Hosu. He tried hard not to think about unanswered cries for help, and a deep red stain spreading onto white armour.

Hoping it would be easier, Midoriya managed to move onwards to the next photograph.

It wasn’t.

…no .

Midoriya was dimly conscious that a thin trickle of tears was making its way down his cheek, that the stranger was still watching over his right shoulder, that Tsu was folding up tables behind him. He was aware, but none of it really registered.

All he could focus on was the photo in front of him, of Ochako’s face, mid-laugh, utterly care-free, happy and young forever.

“H-how…how did…”

“Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall.” The stranger’s voice replied, their level tone never wavering. “She was brave, and grieving a friend, and unwilling to talk down a homicidal manchild. Her parents managed to separate out just enough dust to bury.”

Midoriya tried to hold in his tears, but it wasn’t quite enough. Quiet sobs began to echo through the hall.

I shouldn’t go on. I…need to leave. Why do I need to keep looking? What good will it do me? Do I need to know?

You already know the answer to that one.

Nosy, nosy…you can’t help yourself, can you?

His eyes watery with tears, Midoriya made his way through the photographs and candles, the stranger keeping up their monologue in that same clinical tone, more like a weather forecaster than an announcer of deaths.

Shouji. (“Dark Shadow never calmed down at the training camp, and he wouldn’t leave his friend. He hit a tree, hard, and didn’t wake up before Moonfish found him.”)

Ojiro. (“After her attempts to get closer to her at the licensing exams failed, Toga took drastic measures to get closer to her froggy crush. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”)

Aoyama. (“With no-one he could empathise with and blood on his hands, he buckled under the pressure. On the third day of the Siege of U.A., they found him hanging from the rafters, a confession besides his body.”)

There were more. Too many more.

Eventually, Midoriya found the face he’d been dreading. He sucked in a breath, before looking more closely.

…that’s odd. It’s…well, they’ve all been pretty standard school photos or hero face shots up until now. This is something else.

Midoriya held the photo up in the light and turned it a few times. It was definitely not in colour, even accounting for the dark hall, and the quality was far grainier than the previous photos. That wasn’t what was bothering him.

That smile on Shouto’s face—I’ve seen it before. Not on him, but the same expression. The smile of someone with nothing to lose, someone who’s thrown away everything but one goal. A happy face, with eyes full of hatred. The last time I saw it, Jaku City was going up in flames.

…that’s Dabi’s smile. It…doesn’t belong on Shouto’s face.

“No-one ever got through to him. No-one listened, no-one cared, no-one told him that it wasn’t his father’s power. He stayed cold, and lonely, and when his father rose to No1, something…broke inside him.”

Midoriya’s hands shook as they held the photograph. He bit down on his lip, hoping his sobs didn’t get louder.

“…how did he…”

“Killing his father. The fire set by Dabi’s cult was always intended to kill the both of them. He didn’t care. In that moment, he was the closest thing to happy he’d been in a long time.”

A wide-fingered hand snatched the photograph from Midoriya.

Huh?

“Don’t know why I gave you a memorial, kero,” Tsu muttered to herself, blowing out Todoroki’s candle and placing his flowers— generic lilies , Midoriya’s whirring brain noted, not the hydrangeas Shouto likes, and that’s not an accident because the bouquet for Ochako had her favourite plum flowers in it —into a plastic bag. “I guess someone has to mourn you, kero, and it might as well be me…”

Midoriya stood and watched, in the fading light, as Tsu packed away the memorials.

…how didn’t she see me? I was right next to her…

“…bet I’ll even have a candle for Mikaboshi, kero, after he dies…” Tsu paused at Shouji’s memorial, her eye hardening. “…or maybe not. He killed one of us. Gotta draw the line somewhere, kero…”

Tsu continued clearing up the memorials, smoothly moving around the stranger without acknowledging their presence. Once she got to the last two, near the end, she paused.

“I’m sorry.” The photographs of Mineta and Yamada shook with her hand. “I should have stayed with—should have been better—I…”

Pulling herself together slightly, Tsu placed the photographs in the same folder she’d placed the others in. “At least I remember, kero. Every year, kero, they forget…” she glared towards the door, “…but I remember.”

As Tsu gathered her things, Midoriya began slowly making his way towards the door, the stranger following behind.

 “Are you…alright?”

Midoriya finished wiping his face with his sleeve and turned to the stranger. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine now, it’s just that was…a little intense. Sorry for…”

“It’s…” the stranger trailed off. “I thought you’d want to know. I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you…”

“It’s fine.” Midoriya rubbed his hands together on instinct as he exited the hall, even though they weren’t aching. “You were right. I did want to know. It…felt better knowing than not knowing.”

As the pair made their way through the campus to the main school building, the stranger broke the silence again. “How did Froppy not see us? I mean, we were right next to her!”

“I have a theory.” Midoriya responded, perking up slightly before slumping down again. “Uh, that is, if you’re alright with me, well, telling you about your quirk and…”

“Go on.”

“Well,” Midoriya began, a small bit of new-found yet tentative excitment excitement breaking out on his face, “you said that people don’t notice you unless you try and grab their attention, so what that suggests is that it’s partly based on if people expect to see a person there, and how hard they’re looking! Kiri—uh, Red Riot, well, he’s not Red Riot here, but, still—he saw me right away earlier because he was waiting for Baku—for this universe’s DynaMight to show up, so he was actively on the lookout for a person. Meanwhile, Tsu…all she wanted was to be alone.”

The stranger gave a small smile.

“…I still don’t really understand it, though.”

The stranger’s smile dropped. “Understand what?”

Midoriya waved his hands. “Everything! I mean, even if this world doesn’t have me in it, shouldn’t it be…better than this?”

“What I said earlier, all those stories about how your friends met their fates—didn’t you notice what they all shared? What was missing from all of them?”

“Well yeah, but…surely someone else would have intervened!” Midoriya was almost agitated, waving his hands. “Any idiot could have come up with that plan to get Tsu and Mineta off the boat, or could have calmed down Dark Shadow, or noticed that Shou—that Harmony was just lonely and needed a friend, or—”

“Yes. Anyone could have done those things.” The stranger’s tone was hardening, like someone trying to explain something to a child. “But the only one who did …was you. That’s the difference. Plenty of people wanted to act but didn’t know how, or knew what to do but didn't act on it. This is the result.”

“I guess…” Midoriya trailed off again, his hands dropping to his sides. “I wonder who All Might chose, in this universe? Definitely not someone in 1-A, it looks like…Mirio would make sense, he was the choice before I came along…”

The stranger blinked a few times. “What makes you wonder that?”

“Well, my class was—” Midoriya made a vague hand gesture to encompass ideas he wasn’t quite ready to speak yet “—but, I mean, I’m important to them , sure, but I’m just—just a guy! I was kinda important, but only because of All Might, and he’d find someone else, so…my absence is, well, it’s bad for my friends, but not so important in the grand scheme of…”

As he said this, the pair crested a slight hill. Not a big one, but large enough that one could see a decent amount of U.A.’s campus from the top. What Midoriya saw made him stop, mid-sentence, silent.

The lights were out right across campus. The glass in the windows was shattered, small fragments clinging to the edges of the frames like it was huddling for warmth. Even the cement of the walls was crumbling, collapsing in places, almost destroyed.

“Perhaps you had a slight impact.” the stranger added, quietly. “One that seemed negligible but added up. In the grand scheme of things.”

Midoriya picked his way through the shattered remnants of his school, saying nothing, his breathing coming quicker and quicker as he moved faster and faster. Somehow, the stranger—or at least, the words of the stranger—followed right behind.

“The problems started when they let two students die at the U.S.J, and only mounted with each death. After the siege, the Commission finally had their desired excuse to remove Nezu, and with him one of the most powerful pieces of opposition to them. There haven’t been such a thing as hero schools for the last four years. Even if the Commission wanted to set one up—and they have their own ways to get new heroes—they’d be unable to deal with all the attacks.”

Midoriya paused, for a moment, by a fragment of Heights Alliance’s walls, which seemed almost untouched besides the bullet holes studding its surface.

“…the attacks?”

“The U.S.J. showed that you could kill students and get away with it, and plenty of people wanted the cachet of equalling the League. Once the League itself splintered, knocking over a hero academy became the de facto way to prove yourself as a villain—never mind that half the time all you were accomplishing was killing near-defenceless children. By the time U.A. fell, most of the smaller schools were gone as well.”

Midoriya gripped the wall like he was trying to steady himself.

“The Commission tightening their grip didn’t help matters for the rest, either—the more they lost control elsewhere, the more they tried to keep what they had left. A lot of people didn’t like the changes they tried to make. These days it’s all done via conscription—if you’ve got a useful enough quirk, they pair you up with a trainer for a few weeks, give you a costume, and throw you into the meatgrinder. More training would make them more effective, but as it is they’re barely keeping up with the rate of deaths, and they just can’t spare the time…”

A few stifled, low, sobs came from the shattered wall.

“The holes there are probably from the siege. The fifth day, when one of the Nomu broke through the walls. The heroes’ numbers were already thinned by the Humarise bombings, and the rapid evacuation failed to arrive on time. It’s to the credit of U.A.’s staff that not one hero student lost their life, even if the other departments were decimated. The staff were, too. A few metres from where you’re standing, Eraserhead fell, holding off Mustard’s vanguard, making sure his gas didn’t reach—”

“Stop.”

Green lightning crackled around Midoriya’s haggard face as he looked towards the stranger. “Just…stop.”

The stranger’s face fell. “…I’ve overstepped the mark again, haven’t I?”

Midoriya let out a ragged breath. “It’s not that, it’s just—I get it, alright? I get what you’re trying to tell me! The world, it needed me—”

“Good. You’re getting it.”

“—it needed me to fight him. It…I guess no-one else was up to it, or was willing to put in the effort, or whatever, but…it’s not fair. He was—he was a monster , and I, I tried so hard to take him down, and barely won, and…I guess this is the result, here, if I wasn’t here, but it just doesn’t seem fair to act like Mirio or whoever had even a chance in hell against him!”

The stranger’s face hadn’t quite risen. “…what are you talking about?”

Midoriya’s was practically shouting by this point. “ All for One! This is his world, right? The one he wanted?”

The stranger paused, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“Well?” Midoriya was snapping, and he knew it wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help it. “Any more fun facts to dole out about how he snapped Edgeshot’s spine, or massacred 1-B, or levelled Tokyo, or, or, or—”

“…All for One is dead.”

Silence hung in the air between them.

It was Midoriya who spoke first. “He’s…they thought last time that…”

“They found the body, this time.” The stranger’s voice was oddly solemn. “Thousands saw it on live TV. He’s dead.”

The rest of Midoriya’s sentence was choked off by—not quite sobs, but the sort of damp, deep, frustrated noises made by someone trying hard to keep a lid on several emotions at once.

“…are you alri—”

“NO!”

While not as loud as earlier, Midoriya’s second outburst—with reddened cheeks, twitching hands, and no trace of lightning—felt far rawer and more desperate.

“I’m, I’m, I’m tired, and I’m cold, and I, I was—I didn’t ask for this, to be dropped into some, some other universe, by some stranger, told everything’s all so much worse, so much worse without me , even though all the stuff I—I screwed up with, all of that’s better, so why isn’t anything—how do you know this shit? Where, do you have some kind of fucking encyclopaedia up your sleeve, under your hat, what—how do I know you’re not just making it up, that this isn’t some illusion, that…”

The stranger stood, silently, in the same implacable way they’d stood for the whole conversation. Midoriya started to visibly run out of steam as he approached the end of his rant, feeling tiredness and shame settling into his head like old friends.

“…m’sorry, I know you were trying to help, you mean well, y’don’t deserve…” he began to mutter.

“…it’s alright. For the record, I can answer one of your questions.” The stranger’s voice was calm. “I know about All for One’s death because of that.”

Midoriya’s bleary eyes followed the stranger’s outstretched finger, to find, outside U.A.’s former gates…a statue. An unmistakable statue, with its bunny-ears of hair, its outstretched fist, its smile Midoriya spent hours in front of the mirror imitating as a kid.

Written underneath…

No.

IN MEMORIAM

THE SYMBOL OF PEACE: ALL MIGHT

HE GAVE HIS LIFE TO PROTECT US FROM THE FIEND OF KAMINO

HIS SACRIFICE WAS NOT IN VAIN

OUR SACRIFICES WILL NOT BE IN VAIN

HE WAS A HERO 

Chapter Text

HE WAS A HERO

Midoriya walked slowly towards the statue, his mouth hanging open slightly in shock.

Even as grief and an odd, muted, shame began to flood back into his mind, some small part of him was endlessly analysing. He must have been out of time…but if that’s the case, how was he able to kill All for One?

“He wasn’t.”

Huh? I was sure I wasn’t speaking out loud that time…

“He had just enough time left to reach the end, because his time hadn’t gone down.” The stranger was still following Midoriya along, with slow but steady steps. “He hadn’t passed his quirk on. That’s why he died.”

“But…if he hadn’t passed it on, he’d, he’d be stronger, right?” Midoriya was shaking, with the cold and with emotion. “He wouldn’t—he’d be fine, wouldn’t he, without…”

“It wasn’t a question of strength. It was a question of will. This All Might hadn’t passed on his quirk, so he was stronger, but he hadn’t passed it on because he had no-one to pass it on to. All he had was a teaching job he was unprepared for which somehow placed more deaths on his conscience, and an insincere promise to a former friend that he’d meet with someone he didn’t know and hand away a part of himself—the only part of himself that still felt good—to them. He didn’t have anything in his life to keep him going, any future he could believe in. So, when he fought All for One… he just wanted to end the fight; he just wanted to rest. He got his wish.”

“…if, if he died, if All for One died, then…shouldn’t things be…not this?” Midoriya waved his hands around vaguely at the ruined campus and dilapidated city.

“Really? You said it yourself, a year ago.” The stranger’s face was on the verge of a grin. “It was never the League that was the source of the problem. Society was already teetering on the brink, and pulling one pillar out was all it needed to fall. It didn’t matter that it was All for One taking advantage of it…”

“…because the problem is bigger than one man, it’s a problem of the system.” Midoriya finished the sentence on autopilot. “Sorry, I spent a while practising for that speech, and…”

“It was a good speech.” The stranger nodded softly. “It gave me a lot to think about.”

Neither of them spoke for a while. Midoriya, tears rolling down his cheek, looked up at the All Might statue, somehow intact in the middle of devastation. The stranger looked at Midoriya, an unreadable expression on their face.

After some time, Midoriya turned away from the statue.

…wallowing won’t help me. I’d better ask the stranger to take me ba…

…oh.

Midoriya blinked tears out of his eyes, but it didn’t change what he saw—or what he didn’t see, rather. The stranger had slipped away.

…that makes sense. I did snap at them earlier and who wouldn’t take the chance to ditch me?

I do need to find them, though, or I’ll be stuck here…

Midoriya turned around, looking past the statue to the city behind. Light and decay assaulted his senses.

Even at a time like this, Midoriya’s brain refused to keep quiet. Broken windows on the storefronts, or steel barriers—indicates a high crime rate and low hero patrol levels. Flashy illuminated signs on some of the storefronts, so that means there’s enough money in the area to carry out repairs, so a pervasive culture of apathy—an acceptance of low-level crime and background violence. Some streets look more well-maintained than others—protection, from who, by who? Organised crime? Local vigilante militias? Underground pros? No, look at the kind of businesses on those streets—hero-protected areas tend not to have so many bars, there’s a risk of getting fined for being drunk on the job. One of the first two. Besides, look at the dead trees, the big potholes, the graffiti. This is an area the city government don’t want to deal with, you wouldn’t see any heroes being sent here on clean-up missions, just undercover types.

Midoriya’s nose twitched. Cordite, faint, probably an hour or two ago at most—any longer, the smell would’ve gone. The all-night noodle bar across the street has a guy slumped in front of the counter asleep, and he’s clearly been there for a while judging by the boxes around him, so the gunshot didn’t disturb him. If a gun going off passes unnoticed, then this area must have a lot of them—a black market hub? Or guns are more common in this world, or someone had a gun quirk and used that, or that guy’s just a heavy sleeper, or…focus!

What happened here? I mean, U.A. being destroyed is one thing, but there’s still heroes around, so…you’d think they’d at least take good care of what remained…

As Midoriya aimlessly stumbled his way through the city, his thoughts kept going around in circles. Eventually, he stopped and looked up.

Huh. His eyes panned over a relatively clean building, sandwiched between an abandoned konbini and a shop so thoroughly shuttered Midoriya couldn’t possibly say what they sold. The lights were still on in the windows, and a flickering, hissing, sign spelled out BAR. The door hung open a little—through it, Midoriya could hear the dim murmur of conversation, and smell the universal divebar-smell of stale beer and sweat.

Midoriya shivered. It was already well past midnight, and the cold of the night had thoroughly set in.

I may as well go in. It’s not going to get warmer outside, and it doesn’t look that safe either…

Even if I don’t really know them, it’ll be nice to be around some other people.

The door creaked gently as Midoriya pushed it open. No-one really reacted to his entrance—the barman looked up briefly, but his top two eyes quickly dipped back down to the paperwork he was checking to join his bottom pair, which hadn’t left it. The rest of the barflies barely seemed able to respond to anything, bar a pair in a corner booth having an enthusiastic debate near a TV, its volume turned down.

Looks like the protection from the stranger’s quirk sticks around even though he’s left. At least that means I could survive if I got stuck here forever…but what kind of life would it be, always just on the edge of perception, never really acknowledged except by people who were looking to find me? An outcast beneath notice?

I can live that life—I did live it, back in middle school—but I really don’t want to live it again…

“…he’s certainly not my fuckin’ Number One, that’s for sure!”

Abruptly, Midoriya found himself near the two debating drunks, drawn by the combination of bright lights and enthusiastic voices. Maybe not drunks—the speaking one didn’t seem as tipsy as Midoriya thought—nightshift workers?

“Ah, c’mon Kei!” The second bar patron waved her hand towards the TV. “Give the poor guy a break. He’s tryin’ his best—look at that! Not a bad bust, eh?”

Midoriya turned his head to the TV, following her hand. Looks like a 24-hour news channel—huh, I guess Shoowaysha didn’t go bust here—and there’s a drug ring that’s been broken up by…Kamui Woods? I mean, he definitely has the potential to be No1, he’s got a decent quirk and he’s dedicated to the job, but…

“Yeah, I’ll give you that, the asshat does his job.” The first to speak—Kei—rolled his eyes at his friend. “He meets the bare minimum. Bra- vo . But he sure as hell doesn’t make me you feel safe. Now Endeavour—hey, don’t give me that look, Emao!—there was a Number One for ya! Strong as hell, scared the pants off villains, and didn’t take shit from no-one. Certainly didn’t jump whenever the HPSC said frog, like certain heroes…”

“Really, dude?” Emao slumped in her seat. “You’ve been reading too many conspiracy theories again. Just because he was at Saiko Intelli’s house the day before that maniac shot Tokuda, that doesn’t mean he’s what, this government plant? Heh. Plant.”

“Listen to him speak! It’s all ‘honoured President Intelli’ this, ‘honoured President Intelli’ that—they’ve got a hand up his ass!” Kei made a sweeping gesture across the table, nearly upturning a bowl of kakipi. “This kinda shit is why the hero system’s rotten to the core!”

“Oh, come on . Look at mister big scary revolutionary over here!” Emano swung her hands widely, forcing Midoriya to take a slight step back. “You sure aren’t doing much to challenge this ‘broken system’, mister. Bet the Jesutefado vigilantes would welcome you with open arms, seeing as they so desperately need your no skills !”

Kei grumbled into his drink about training difficulties and how Emano wasn’t doing anything either, but by this point Midoriya had stopped listening intently to the conversation.

“…one of the most significant busts in a few years.” The newscaster’s forced cheerful tone was just about audible through the noise of the bar. “With a disruption to their erasure-bullet supply chain like this, we could see the Shie Hassaikai driven out of Musutafu altogether!”

…oh. I…I mean, Nighteye was a good hero, but if All Might died he’d be…

I…probably shouldn’t think about it. About her. About what might be happening to her. About a small, sterile room, and the kind of quiet you only get from kids who’ve learnt crying just means more pain, and blood, and blood, and blood, and

Shaking his head, Midoriya started focusing intently on the TV, and noticed Kei and Emano were now doing the same. The first news program had ended, and a commercial for Feel Good Inc’s computers was fading into some overly dramatic music and a red-and-black logo.

“That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for Villain Watch!” A cheesy announcer’s voice began playing over stock footage of devastation. “It’s been a busy week for malefactors and evildoers of all stripes, and lucky for you, you can get the whole rundown here!”

…what the fuck? This is…what the fuck? Who watches this?

“How d’you think your precious vigilantes are gonna do this week, Kei?” Emano grinned, pulling the kakipi towards herself. “I heard Razorwire beat their asses hard last Tuesday. Not exactly Hero Killer material, eh?”

Kei visibly rolled his eyes. “Get real! It’s not all about the fights. The display they put up down near Jitonmachi made the headlines, and besides I’m pretty sure they’ve got something planned for—”

Midoriya’s attention was drawn back to the TV by a canned drumroll playing under the announcer’s words. “…and the moment you’ve all been waiting for, this week’s number one villain is…Gentle Criminal! An impressively brutal defeat of Mount Lady, live-streamed no less, seals his place on the top for the third week running!”

“Saw it coming. They always put the hero-killers near the top…”

Gentle? He wouldn’t…well, the Gentle I know wouldn’t…

“But that’s not the only impressive sight in the broader Musutafu area this week! Residents of Jitonmachi Street woke up to find this shocking sight a few days ago, signed and sealed by their oh-so-friendly local ‘vigilantes’…”

“Called it!” Kei slammed his palm down on the table. “See? That’s heroism for you! None of this Commission bootlicking…”

“Dude, they were trying to scare the restaurant opposite them into giving them protection money. It was in the Standard.”

Tuning out the conversation, Midoriya’s eyes panned over the awful scene on the television. A mixture of severed limbs, heads, and internal organs, festooned over the roof and awning of a vacant lot like Christmas decorations, all above the words “THUS TO CRIMINALS” written in what looked like blood.

He felt sick, but at the same time, couldn’t look away—something there had grabbed him.

That face—that’s…could it be? Maybe? I can’t quite make out the face…

No. It’s her. No doubt about it. It could only be her, with that…

Near one end of the building, almost turning into the small passage between two lots, one of the heads was dangling. Not on a spike, like the rest of them, but strung up, tied onto the corner of the building by its hair. Its long, metallic, cable-like hair.

Tsuribashi Akumi’s dead eyes stared back at Midoriya through the screen.

When he was going over it in his mind, afterwards, Midoriya found that he didn’t really recall the next few minutes, how he left the bar, how long he spent wandering or running through the streets. It was like he’d ceased to exist for that time—his mind was working, but it had stopped answering the outside world’s calls.

Eventually, Midoriya came to himself, slumped over on a railing between two bushes in the shadow of a tower block.

Why do I feel guilty?

I mean, it’s those vigilantes’ faults that she died here , this isn’t on me, but…I feel like it should be. Is this just me being self-centred, putting everything onto my own shoulders? No, I wished for this universe, didn’t I, so is every death here my fault? No, that…he said he was just visiting an existing universe, so…

There was a gentle cough. “I’m sorry to bother you, young man, but…could you help me, please?”

Turning his head in the direction of the noise, Midoriya saw an old woman, dragging a pair of overstuffed shopping bags behind her.

Almost unconsciously, Midoriya’s face hardened into a waxy smile. “Sure!”

…I can sort myself out later. I only get seen if people are looking for someone, so she’s been looking for help for a while, and there’s no-one around this early in the morning (she’s probably a night-shift worker of some kind) …she needs a hero.

“It’s very kind of you to help me out like this,” the old woman replied through huffs and puffs. “Have we…do you live in the building? A neighbouring one? You seem…”

Midoriya decided evasion was the better part of valour. “I’m…passing through. Thought I’d help out, y’know?”

“What a nice boy you are!” The woman chuckled as she heaved her bag into the lift. “Your mother must be very proud.”

Midoriya made sure to keep up his cheerful tone. “I hope she is. Do you have any children?”

There was a palpable silence in the lift, thick enough to cut. Eventually, a small sniff broke it.

“…I…I always wanted kids.” The old woman looked on the verge of tears. “My husband…didn’t, and…well, eventually he moved overseas, and…no-one really wanted to…”

“…I’m sorry.” Midoriya awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot. “I just thought, since you had so much food…”

“It’s for my neighbour.” The woman had just about regained her composure, even if she still seemed miserable. “He can’t really get out as much these days…it’s a shame, isn’t it? Not having anyone to look after you in your old age?”

“It’s…well, I mean, there’s bad stuff you missed out on, too!” Midoriya’s cheer was bordering on desperation as he stepped out of the lift. “My mum went through the ringer over my childhood. No sleepless nights, no worry, no extra expenses…”

Midoriya mentally winced almost as soon as the words left his mouth, watching the expression on the woman’s face harden.

“I…I think I can see your point a little, young man, and I understand you’re trying to make me feel better, but…I don’t really care. Having a child—I know it’s expensive, and it’s, and it’s frustrating, and it’s like having your heart walk around outside your body, but…I think it’s worth it. I just want to…to watch something grow, even if it grew in a way that I didn’t like…”

They walked together in silence until they reached the end of the corridor.

“Well, this is my apartment, so…” The woman looked wistfully back at Midoriya. “I’ll just be leaving Mr Tanaka’s groceries on his doorstop, and I’ll…would you like some tea? You’ve been an awful help, and…”

“It’s—I’m fine.” Midoriya moved backwards slowly, trying to pinpoint the sudden wave of déjà vu he was feeling. “Thanks for the offer.”

Even as he spoke, he could see the stranger’s quirk slowly taking effect, the old woman’s eyes fogging over as she shut the door, leaving Midoriya with a good view of the apartment number.

…oh.

Well, I guess that makes sense. People who walk through where they live without paying attention…they usually end up somewhere they know well.

Midoriya wiped at his face, and slowly walked away from the apartment of Midoriya Inko.

The area by the danchi was much as Midoriya remembered—a long strip of grass enlivened with a few sad benches. Litter dotted the verge, crunching as he walked forward. The road went past the strip, all the way down out of the city.

Down to the bridge.

I can’t stay here. This world…I don’t belong here. I need to find the stranger, and he said it himself—that bridge is almost always there.

He’s moved between worlds there before. He’ll be there…and I can leave.

Then what?

Go home and wallow? Go back to the party and choke down your feelings some more? Go out looking for more villains? Just keep on with the same routine, day in, day out, the one that led you here?

What comes next? You didn’t answer that question when you got to the bridge the first time, did you?

You’ve done your bit, this world can’t happen, so why don’t you just…

Caught up in the tangle of his own thoughts, Midoriya’s feet scraped the surface of the bridge before he realised it.

There was a figure ahead of him—a stranger, but not the stranger, resting their chin on their folded arms that hung over the railing. Their body was hunched, huddling to escape the cold.

A kid—based on the height, I’d say 11 to 12, and they’re out here all along? The never-off-duty part of Midoriya’s brain had started to whirr louder than the suicidal the depressive part. Definitely not in a safe situation—that hoodie hasn’t seen a wash in a long time, and from what we can see of their legs and arms they’re not getting enough food, way too scrawny for comfort. Their body language looks wary, even if they’re distracted right now, so if I’m going to approach them I’ll need to move quickly and quietly or they’ll bolt…

  Cautiously, Midoriya inched his way towards the kid, who still didn’t notice— maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s their problems occupying them— and cleared his throat gently.

“Excuse me…”

“Waddya want?” The kid’s voice was harsh, raspy like they’d been crying, and laced with bitterness.

“You’re…not alright, are you?”

The kid let out a defeated sigh, slumping their shoulders. “No.”

“Do you…uh, do you want to, to talk about it? I could—you know, maybe I might be able to help you w—”

Something that approximated a chuckle escaped the kid’s lips. They turned, and Midoriya saw their face—the greasy black hair hanging over it, the bruise forming over their cheek, the reddened eyes that glassily reflected as little emotion as possible.

“I doubt it. Unless you got a cure for quirklessness.”

Chapter Text

“I doubt it. Unless you got a cure for quirklessness.”

Midoriya tried his hardest not to visibly recoil from the kid’s statement. He knew that’d only be interpreted in one way. Still, it hit him like a punch to the gut.

“…I understand.”

The kid blinked at him a few times and turned their head back towards the water. “…you probably don’t. Thanks anyway.”

“…for what?”

“Not apologising .” The kid— probably a boy, but I shouldn’t assume —was getting bitterer and bitterer. “Not saying that you’re sorry to hear that . Like I’ve got some kind of fucking disease .”

Midoriya mentally bit down on his tongue.

…I want to chime in, I really do. I still remember it. The way those people’s sympathy, no, their pity, it just felt like a softer version of sneering. How once they filed you away as “weaker”, as “less able”, then that was it, they just stopped seeing anything else about you. It didn’t even mean extra support, even, just that you had to squish yourself into a box for the convenience of others not having to deal with your weakness, and, despite supposedly needing ‘help’ from the ‘more fortunate’, never the other way around…

…but I can’t, because now I’m one of those people. I’m one of the quirked bleeding-hearts, pontificating about the sorry state of the nulls. I’m the lucky one. I got out.

If you got out, why aren’t you happy, then?

Stop. Focus. The kid needs help. Focus.

“So…” Midoriya awkwardly looked down at the kid, slumped against the railing, and tried not to think too hard about the only reason people walked to this bridge in the middle of the night alone. “…you didn’t, uh, answer my first question. Do you want to talk? It’s okay, really, I’d understand if you didn’t…I mean, we haven’t, uh, introduced ourselves…”

The kid curled up into themselves a little more, against the cold, tugging the sleeves of their red hoodie to cover their hands. “Akatani. M’name’s Akatani. Akatani Mikumo. I’m…13 years old.”

Okay, so he’s 12. “Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku. 21. So, why are you out here?”

Akatani narrowed his eyes slightly, but still looked fairly open. “…I don’t have anywhere else to go, is why. Some asshole took my spot near Tatooin Station and dumped my stuff on the tracks, so now I’m…well, I’ll find somewhere else to sleep. When I feel like it.”

…oh.

I know the stats. One in five of us (is it “us”? Do I get to say “us” anymore?) under 25 ends up homeless. Those are the stats in my world, and it’s been getting a little better there, but there isn’t here, and…so I shouldn’t be surprised. Shouldn’t feel anything. I do.

Apparently Akatani could sense Midoriya’s feelings, as he began to glare up at him. “Shut it. You didn’t give me any pity for being quirkless, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t give me any of that shit for being homeless, either. ‘Specialy since one caused the other.”

“I-I’m…sorry to hear that.” Midoriya cursed himself, watching Akatani’s frown deepen. “Not that…I don’t mean it like that, I’m just—you don’t deserve it. It’s bad what your parents did, and…”

Akatani made a barking sound that, with the benefit of the doubt, could almost be taken as laughter. “My parents were fine. Great even. Up until Mikaboshi threw a lamppost through my dad’s car.”

“Mikaboshi? I don’t…recognise that name.” I do. I just don’t want to hear what I know I’ll hear…but I’ve got to be sure, or it’ll eat me up.

“Geez, dude, you live under a fuckin’ rock or somethin’?” The mild contempt in Akatani’s eyes was better than the mistrust Midoriya had seen earlier. “Mikaboshi? The Jet-Black Villain? The U.A. student who killed another kid and joined the League right after? The one with the uncontrollable quirk that flattened half of Jakku? That one? That Mikaboshi?”

“…yeah. Sorry. Must have slipped my mind.”

When Moonfish got to Shouji, they must have…paused…and then, well, the League were after him, so…I mean, look how the media treated Kacchan, who’s got a textbook heroic quirk! If there was evidence that he’d caused his friend to die, as well, and considering how Tokoyami already thought of himself…it’d be easy to make him believe that he was already a monster.

…I’m giving him a hug if when I get home.

Akatani continued on, seizing the chance to get his life off of his chest. “My aunt down in Nagasaki said she didn’t know me, and on my mum’s side I didn’t have anyone either. No-one who wanted a null . So, then I got to experience being ground through the system, the system decided it didn’t want me either, I decided the feeling was mutual, and now…I’m here.”.   As he spoke, his tone slowly shifted, going from aggressively bitter to a quiet dullness. “Like I said, I had a decent spot near the station where I busked, by an aircon unit, out of the rain, and now someone’s taken it, and all the stuff I’d managed to save there is gone, too, and…”

OK, right, standard playbook, you’ve listened, now it’s time to intervene.

Midoriya reached into his back pocket. “You’ll probably want this, then. It’s, uh, well, you might need it to…” He faltered, opting to simply place the money in the kid’s hands.

Akatani looked at the 5,000 yen bill like it’d personally offended him.

I know that look. He’s not used to gifts that aren’t out of pity. Just like Ochako used to be with money. Or how I used to be, with affection. Still, it’s the same pride, no, the same sense of self-respect, at stake. I can use the same tactics.

“It’s not charity. It’s…you’ll need this money to stay alive, and I want you to stay alive, right? So, it’s not charity, it’s not me looking down on you. It’s something you’ve earnt by being my…by needing my help.”

“Sounds like charity to me.” Akatani grumbled. He did not, however, let go of the money, merely clenching it tightly in one hand.

Midoriya cleared his throat slightly. “…so, is there anywhere else you know that you could go? Like, uh, like a homeless shelter, or a hostel, or…”

Akatani rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Sure. I’ve just been standing around here for the fun of it— of fucking course there isn’t! The only shelter around here is run by Hearts and Minds so they’d rather spit on me, and none of the hostels around here would let me dirty the sheets. I don’t have any fucking options! I don’t have my money, I don’t have my music sheets, I don’t have my last photo of them, I DON’T HAVE A FUTURE! I’M NOTHING!”

As Akatani turned around, anger and frustration spilled out of him, his arms waving, his eyes watering.

“JUST GO! WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE?”

The bridge fell silent, Midoriya looking concernedly on at Akatani, whose anger was fading from its peak. His breaths became deeper, heavier. His expression fell. He began to back away.

“I-I’m, I’m, what I meant was…”

I know that voice. It’s…he thinks he’s made a mistake, and now the adult’s going to let him have it. Shouto used to sound like that, whenever something went wrong. I used to sound like that. I…don’t sound like that as much, not anymore, and neither does Shouto, because…because…

I know what I need to say.

“Why shouldn’t I care about you, Akatani-san?”

Akatani froze, absolutely still. Midoriya kept talking.

“Like I said, I understand. I…I haven’t been through what you’ve been through, but I’ve…been through bad stuff myself before. Right here, even. So, I’m not offering you pity. I’m offering you help, because you’re a human being, like I am. You don’t need to have a, have some reason to be worthy of help! You’re a human, just as good as anyone else, and you deserve to live. Even if you don’t feel like it. Just, look around you! I’m sure you’ve made the world better for someone, for anyone!”

The shock on Akatani’s face was giving way to an unreadable expression. Midoriya, despite himself, took a step forward towards him, gesticulating broadly. Akatani took a step back, stumbling.

“I’m offering you a hand up, not out of pity, but out of the compassion two equals feel for each other! You’re miserable right now, and that’s fine! You can be sad, after all you’ve been through! But you’re alive! And things might get better, and they might get worse, but you don’t know! You’ve got the greatest gift of all in your hands—you can live, you can change! Your story isn’t over! It might be constrained, limited, but I know you can break through those limits, because someone who’s been through what you’ve been through and come out the other side, someone who’s lived through being quirkless and through being on the streets and who’s still kind enough to give some, some random stranger the benefit of the doubt, someone like you…”

At some point, Midoriya had started crying, carried away by his own emotions. He didn’t notice.

“Just one more day, that’s all I want from you! Find somewhere warm, go to sleep, wake up, and…and if you live on, for one more day, that’s one more moment of happiness, one more good deed, one more victory over everyone who called you worthless! You can do one more day! And if…if you can do one more day, maybe you can do another!”

Midoriya stretched out his hand to Akatani, who’d fallen on their knees.

“Akatani-san…you can have a future!”  

His choked sobs filling the air, Akatani nonetheless grabbed Midoriya’s hand, and pulled himself up.

The sound of those sobs, slowly fading, remained in the air for a while.

Midoriya broke the silence first.

“…I’m—I’m sorry if that came off too strong. I…that was probably inappropri—I was maybe putting in too much of my own experien—”

Akatani sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Shut up. It worked, didn’t it?”

“I mean…that’s up to you, right?”

A little more silence passed as Akatani dusted himself off.

“Do you want me to walk you to a shelter? I’m not that familiar with the area, but…”

“I…I have a friend.”

Midoriya did a slight double-take as Akatani continued on. “She…we were in a group home together, and her quirk was kind of freaky. We both got pushed to the side, so we didn’t really have anyone to talk with but each other. We were—we kept each other going. But…since she wasn’t quirkless, she got out. People wanted her. Even so, she sent me a postcard, from her new home, and…” Akatani started awkwardly patting his trousers before remembrance and surprise crossed his face. “…I still remember the address. It’s here, in Musutafu! 117B, Aparusu Street. Not that far from here, even!” His face slowly began to fall “But I mean…she’ll probably have forgotten, and I’m not exactly a great guest, and her parents might object, and…”

Midoriya was smiling, now. “You won’t know until you try. I can walk you there if you want?”

“Hey, I can handle myself!” Akatani walked away, rolling his eyes. Halfway across the bridge, he turned back towards Midoriya.

“But…thanks. Thanks for…for everything.”

Waving slightly, Midoriya watched Akatani until he slowly disappeared from view, a tiny dot of colour in a dark night.

Then he turned to lean on the railing, looking out at the city spread before him.

I hope he’ll be alright.

No, he wouldn’t want me thinking that. He’s resourceful, he’s got a good memory, he’s suspicious enough to get by but not too suspicious. I’m sure he’ll be alright.

…this is why I love hero work, you know? This is it.

Midoriya rubbed his hands together, trying to stave off the cold. It didn’t dampen his mood.

It’s not about stopping the villains—most of the time, they’re just people in a bad situation, or who made bad choices, not monsters, and when they are monsters fighting them takes it out of you enough that you’re only glad to have finished. It’s not about the media, either, about doing interviews or promoting merchandise, or about gaining fans and accolades. It’s about finding people on the worst day of their lives and telling them…that it’ll be OK. Giving them a path to move forward. Giving them hope.

Seeing the light come back into their eyes, in that moment…that’s it. That’s worth it. That’s worth everything.

“It’s why you became a hero, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Midoriya wasn’t surprised when he turned his head slightly and found the stranger, whose grin was threatening to split their face in two. “Yeah, it is. Someone did it for me, once, too, and…I’m trying to pay it forward.”

“It’s an important job.”

Midoriya shrugged awkwardly. “I…I guess? I mean…I can bring the light back, but I can’t make it stay . I can make Akatani want to keep going, but I can’t Detroit Smash away all the structural factors, the things that made him want to, uh, to stop in the first place. It’s, I think what I do is important, sure, in its own way, but it’s…I don’t really make things better. I can’t fix the system. I’m not that impor—well…I guess given how this world is, I…you know what I mean.”

“I suppose I do.” The stranger tugged on the brim of their hat. “But…is that a hero’s job? Political reform?”

“ Saving people is their job.” A dim glow was shining from Midoriya’s eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything if they can’t keep them saved. It’s—look at All Might! The charities funded by the Mighty Agency were just as big a contributor to the era of peace as his work apprehending villains! I need to—if I can’t go beyond that legacy, then I’ll have—we need change. No matter who’s bringing it up, we need change.”

“What were you thinking of doing?” The stranger’s voice was full of curiosity.

“…I’ll need to build up a media profile.” Midoriya said, in a voice that indicated that he’d rather remove a toenail by hand. “I’ve been too focused on patrols, been worried about how I’d come across, but I—I need to give it a try. It…no, it worked for Akatani, didn’t it?”

The stranger said nothing, giving Midoriya licence to fill the silence.

“I know other heroes who’ll want to work with me on this sort of thing, Shouto and Ochako definitely, they’ve been failed by the current system, and Tsu and Tokoyami have been through plenty of discrimination, and Kacchan really wants to get in on the anti-bullying stuff, but if I just make it a bunch of heroes doing a Very Special Announcement then that’ll undermine the message that we can’t be too dependent on heroes to solve society’s problems…there’s existing organisations I can work with, I could probably get a meeting with them once I’m in the public eye and then use my platform to amplify them, and then I’ll be able to sneak under the Commission’s radar too, because they still primarily focus on heroics…”

The stranger smiled, listening to Midoriya’s rambling flow past their ears like a raging torrent.

“Exactly. That’s what we need you for. What the world needs you for.” The stranger leaned forward, settling down on the railing next to Midoriya. “There are plenty of heroes who keep people safe, or who make them feel safe, but…there’s no-one in your world like you. No-one who can make people believe tomorrow will be better, if only they work for it.”

Midoriya silently thanked Midnight’s ghost as he held down a blush. “Is…is that why you saved me? Why I’m important?”

“Not at all. I would have…have done this for anyone.” The stranger’s eyes were focused on the horizon. “Everyone’s important. It’s…I’ve never found anyone who’s not important, doing this job. No-one who could be removed from the world without changing something . It’s funny, isn’t it? How one life can impact so many others? They might seem so insignificant…but when you take them out of the picture, you can see the gap so much more clearly. It’s like you said…”

“…I’m a human, just as good as anybody else, and I deserve to live.”

The stranger nodded slightly at Midoriya’s words. “It was a good speech. I’ll…have to remember it.”

“Yeah.” Midoriya gently pushed himself off of the rail. “Thanks. For…for everything.”

As he turned away, Midoriya winced slightly. It feels like it’s getting a bit warmer, but there’s not that much of a change in the weather. I better keep my fingers from getting any colder—they’re already starting to ache…

…wait…didn’t they say…

“ Since you never existed here, in this world, you didn’t have the opportunity to take part in the U.A. Sports Festival…and your hands…are intact.”

…I’m back! I’m alive! My friends are alive, the people I’ve saved are alive, everyone’s alive…I can make a change.

 I’m part of the world again.

A smile split Midoriya’s features. Not forced, not driven by obligation, not a fixed Symbol-of-Hope grin. Just a simple smile.

I’m alive.

Midoriya moved forward, along the bridge, back towards the city.

Right, so, the first thing I’ll need to do is start getting Tsu onboard with public appearances, she’s calm and not afraid to speak the truth…no, I’ll need to get looking for more reformist pressure groups, find quirkless rights organisations that aren’t cults…no, first I’ll need to try and get more media coverage onto myself, actually listen to my publicist for once…no.

First thing, I’ll call Yagi-sensei, and tell him how I feel about him. Or maybe I should call Mum, first, and tell her? Or maybe I should tell…

  Midoriya shook his head.

No. It’s…I mean sure, they’re my friends, and they probably see me as important to them, but…no. If I screw it up, I’d ruin everything for me and for them. Ochako’s endless kindness, Shouto’s calm strength—I couldn’t live without either of them. It’s better just to keep quiet. They’re fine with the way things are rig—

“Deku-kun?”

Midoriya startled at the sound of his nickname.

“Izuku?”

Two figures were standing at the other end of the bridge.

…oh.

“It’s…I’m sorry if we’ve done anything to upset you, Deku-kun! I know you’ve been avoiding us for…for a bit, but…” Ochako paused for a moment. Shouto placed his hand on her shoulder, and she straightened up. “…but we care about you! I’m your friend, and I li—I care about you, Deku-kun! So we…we just want to know if you’re alright!”

“I’m sorry if we’re prying too much.” Shouto’s face was calm, as usual, but he was gripping Ochako’s hand tightly. “I’m sure you had your own reasons for leaving the party, but…we’ve been worried about you for a while. You seem to be patrolling non-stop, you’ve stopped coming to class events…we miss you. Maybe it’s selfish, but I always…feel better when you’re around, and…I…are you alright?”

Midoriya squeezed his own fist, tightly.

“No. Not really. Not for a while now.”

The faces of his crus—of his friends didn’t drop, exactly. They stayed steady, but hardened. As if they already knew what the answer was to their questions.

“I’m—I’m actually doing a bit better!” Midoriya hoped his cheer didn’t sound too manic. “I was definitely in a…a bad place this evening, but there was a…”

Midoriya looked down, back the way he came, and saw only an empty bridge, silent and cold.

“…it doesn’t matter. It’s…I’ll tell you later. Maybe. But…but yeah. I’m not alright. And I, and I really, and I really appreci—and I can’t tell you how much I—how much I—both of you, how much I—”

As Midoriya’s knees started to give way, their hesitant steps towards him sped up, almost synchronised. Ochako wrapped her arms around his left shoulder, and Shouto draped Midoriya’s right arm across himself.

 “Shh, shh, it’s OK, Deku-kun. Just let it out.”

“We can take him back to my place. It’s not too far…”

“We’re here for you, alright, Deku? We won’t ever not be.”

“It’ll be alright. I’m sure. You’re here.”

  I want things to be like this. I want them to be like this forever.

Midoriya tried to blurt out a lot of things through his tears, but one thing, above all else, was clear.

“Th-thank you. Th-thank you both so much.”

Chapter Text

“Err, thank you both so much, but…”

Ochako stuck her tongue out in concentration, tugging on one end of Midoriya’s bowtie, which was stubbornly refusing to cohere into a proper shape. “Deku-kun! We need you to be presentable!”

“She’s right, you know.” Shouto seemingly materialised from thin air behind Midoriya’s shoulder. “Imagine what people would think. The Number 5 Hero, walking around in a messy tie. Japanese society might never recover.”

Ochako glared at him over Midoriya’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sorry for wanting our boyfriend to look nice ! I don’t see you helping much, mister!”

“I gave him those cufflinks.” Shouto awkwardly fiddled with his own, matching, set, picking at the little green star and pink planet. “Besides, he looks fine to me whatever he’s wearing.”

Midoriya’s face reddened slightly. Ochako gave a theatrical sigh, rolling her eyes, as she lowered her hands from Midoriya’s throat. “Right, there’s no saving this tie—I don’t even know how to take it off . We’re already running late; we’ll just have to go and be damned.” She hiked up her skirt as she walked around the corner, tugging her boyfriends with her. “I just hope Mina hasn’t invited any journalists…”

Midoriya fumbled with his bowtie, somehow making it even more crumpled. “It’ll be, uh, nice to see everyone again anyway, though, eh, Shouto? I mean, it’s been a while since we were all able to meet up like this.”

Shouto chuckled. “Weren’t half of the people here at our last class reunion?”

“Half of them weren’t !”

The low hum of a hundred interested conversations poured out of the hall’s doors as Ochako opened them. “Guys! Get over here already!”

Midoriya rubbed his hands slightly, trying to restore a bit more feeling to them, as he took in the packed hall. “Wow, Mina really wasn’t kidding on the invitation! It’s practically standing room only in here.”

“I don’t know how they’ll manage the dance later. Speaking of which,” Ochako added, digging a pen out of her bag, “Yoarashi says he’s been really working on his waltz, so I’m getting the first two dances with Deku-kun, Shou-kun, but I still definitely want to try that three-person tango you found on the internet!”

Shouto smiled, gently. “That sounds nice. I think I can see mochi on the buffet table…”

Ochako grinned in a manner that suggested she was about to fight a moving train. “Shou-kun! Really! I can recognise an attempt to monopolise Deku-kun when I see it. Still…” her gaze slid to the buffet, where Sato was awkwardly picking at a huge stand of mochi, “…it is working.”

“Guys, don’t fight! Th-there’s enough Deku for everyone!” Midoriya frantically moved his arms as he spoke, before freezing as he realised his unintentional subtext. “I, I mean…”

Shouto gently patted his boyfriend on the back. “It’s fine. Really. I agree.” This did not cause Midoriya’s status to improve.

“We can give you a little space if you want, Deku-kun.” Ochako interjected, clearly trying not to laugh. “I’ll go antagonise Shou-kun somewhere else. Preferably away from any journalists, this time…”

“You can’t hide from our secret love battle over Momo forever, dear.” Shouto added, keeping his voice perfectly deadpan. Ochako sighed deeply as Midoriya snorted.

“I-it’s fine, really, guys. You can do what you want, you’re your own people, and…” Midoriya’s expression suddenly shifted to mock-alarm. “…I think I can see those Seijin students making a move towards the mochi stand!” 

A frightening light gleamed in Ochako’s eye. “ Well then. I suppose that’s my cue, isn’t it? In which case…” Midoriya blushed as his girlfriend pecked him on the cheek, before she turned and gave one to Shouto as well. “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone! Love ya both!”

Shouto rubbed his cheek awkwardly. “How’d you know they were Seijin students?”

“I watched a video of their entrance exam for some analysis practice a while back. I recognised the guy with the…uh…the shark head.”

“I see.” Shouto’s expression made a microscopic move from one kind of thoughtful to another. “You know, I’m sure Ochako would just give you space if you asked. You don’t have to make up a reason for her to go, it’s fine if you want some alone time.”

Midoriya scratched the back of his neck. “…I guess. I…think she knows that too? I just don’t want to be too needy…”

“You’re allowed to have needs.” Shouto moved a little closer to his boyfriend. “And I’m allowed to fulfil them.”  

 Midoriya was expecting it, but his face still went red from the kiss—even if it had barely been any other colour for most of the evening.

“I’ll be over in the corner if you need me,” Shouto added as he walked away. “Kan-sensei wants to talk to me about an offer. Love you.”

Midoriya took a moment to catch his breath.

God…I’m so lucky to have them. Both of them. Like this. I…I don’t deserve…no, Ochako would bop me on the head if she heard me thinking like that. Still, sometimes I can hardly believe it—it’s been what, three years? A little more than that? It still feels so…like a dream. Every time I wake up next to them, it’s li—

“—the BEST wedding! Besht fuckin’ wedding you’ll ever see!”

The sudden noise jolted Midoriya out of his train of thought, making him spin his head around to its source—a half-drunk Bakugou, clinging onto Kirishima for support. His other hand was gesticulating for the benefit of Mina, who was clamping her hand over her mouth for dear life.

“There’s gonna be—be a buffet, like thish shit, but bigger, and, anna big, big-ass fuckin’ fountain, fulla shampay—shampain—shparkly wine, and—a tiger!” Bakugou’s eyes visibly lit up. “Ejiro’s gonna fight a fuckin’ tiger! ‘Cus he’s the best! Before doin’ the vows, they’ll bring on the tiger, an—BAM!” His swung fist nearly hit a potted plant. “Right outta tha park! Shmashed! Dead tiger!”

 “Babe, the wedding planner vetoed the tiger. I keep trying to tell you…”

“Shut.” Bakugou shakily lifted his finger to Kirishima’s mouth. “You—I don’t fuckin’ care. I hear you, but I don’t care. You’re da besht—besht husband. You desherve a fuckin’ tiger. Like you always wanted.”

Kirishima chuckled. “I wanted to fight a tiger when I was six, babe. I’ve moved on. It’s fine.” He started gently pulling his fiancé towards the door. “I’m sorry Mina, but I’ve really gotta take him home…you need to stop getting goaded into drinking contests, babe! Yoarashi’s liver works better than yours!”

Bakugou growled up at Kirishima, before his eyes abruptly refocused onto Midoriya. “Oi. Deku.”

“Y-yes?”

It’s been so long, but…I still feel the same, whenever he growls my name like that. For a moment, I’m 15 again…

“Good fuckin’ job. On the—the thing. Ranking. Yeah. Nice one.”

…but only for a moment.

“You gotta—gotta be Number One!” Bakugou kept affectionately yelling over the top of Kirishima’s friendly greeting. “None of the other fuckers—doesn’t mean SHIT if I beat one of thoshe assholesh—m’comin’ for you! I’ll beat you for Number One for sure! B’you—you gotta get it firsht! S’not fair otherwishe…”

“…thanks, Kacchan. I think.” Midoriya turned to look awkwardly up at Kirishima. “How are you?”

Kirishima let out a laugh that gradually turned into a sigh. “Pretty decent, really, just wish that someone, ” This was punctuated by a glare downwards, “would stop going so damn Plus Ultra on the booze. A kid asked me to sign his raincoat on my last patrol. Super manly of him. Other than that, it’s been pretty quiet, I’m stepping back a bit because of…well…” Another gesture downwards to Bakugou, whose mumbled growls were beginning to trail off into snores. “…upcoming business.”

“How’s planning the, uh, the wedding going?” Midoriya tried to resist the urge to wipe a trailing bit of dried beer off of Bakugou’s lip.

Kirishima grinned dopily. “Great! I’m…god, I really can’t wait for the big day, but at the same time, the feeling I get when I think about it while I’m waiting for it…I wanna be this happy forever, ya know?” He effortlessly heaved a limp Bakugou up onto his shoulders. “Say hi to Uraraka and Todoroki for me, bro. Gotta go now. Good seeing you!”

Midoriya smiled, waving his friend off, and turned back around to an eagerly waiting Mina, who was already placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Midoriya! Better late than never, huh? Heh, don’t take it like that, you’re a delight. Ohmigod you have to meet…”

The next hour went past in a delightful blur of new and familiar faces, swapped news, and hasty conversation, as Midoriya ping-ponged from one person to the next.

“…but he insists that you come for a fitting.” Tokoyami cut an only slightly awkward figure in his suit, even with an excess of jewellery. “Something about off-the-rack…not sparkling enough. Ah, the ways of the light may be hard to learn, but I prefer it to the eternal darkness of solitude…what? Yes, I’m aware I wouldn’t be alone, even if it came to that. Thank you, Midoriya. I appreciate you too. Now if you’d excuse me, my fellow master of shadows requires my presence to stiffen his backbone…”

“…it’s really quite rewarding work, all the same.” Momo’s cut-glass accent seemed unaffected by the lateness of the hour or the empty champagne flute in one hand. “Still, with the current state of heroics law being so abysmal, we’re basically chained to our desks. Honestly, even if we wanted to keep the HPSC’s status quo around, and the WHC somehow let us, the whole thing would topple over in a month or tw—Kyoka! Darling! Your show was simply fantastic…”

“…so really, if ya got the time, I’d appreciate it.” The caterer looked to be on the verge of a blush, awkwardly scratching his thick black mop of hair. “It’s…look, I’m not proud a’it, I’ll admit, but I used ta be a big Endeavour guy. After that guy’s big dance…it took me a while ta come around to heroes again. You’re why I came back. It…you’re always stickin’ up fer the little guy, ya know? Anyway, make it out ta Sugiyama Kei, an’ if you could maybe do one for my friend…”

“…and it’ll be official within a month!” Tobita gently bounced on his heels with excitement, causing his cravat to shake. “That’s right! You’re looking at Japan’s newest pro hero, Gentle Man! …err, the name is a work in progress. Really though, I can’t thank you enough for your help! We’re both over the moon, aren’t we, La Brava? La Brava? Oh dear…I’m awfully sorry Midoriya-sa—um, Deku-sa—um…ah, I think I see her over there by the chocolate fountain…”

“…within five points, too! Only five!” The former Seijin student Midoriya had identified earlier pontificated as his friend behind him tried to edge back towards where the mochi once were. “ And I passed the written! I’m just saying, if things had gone differently, I’d be one of you U.A. students, and then I’d be able to go around…wow, she’s just shovelling them into her purse now. Unbelievable. Oh, my name? Well, it’s Dagger Slash, but you can call me Yamada…are you OK, dude? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost…”

“Izuku, my boy!”

Midoriya whipped his head around immediately at the sound of a familiar voice. “Toshinori-sensei!”

…All Might looks so healthy. I mean, as healthy as a man without a lung can be, but…his suit isn’t hanging off his shoulders, his arms are thicker than they were, he’s not coughing up blood…I guess that new regimen is really working for him. I hope his knitting’s going well as well, he’s been trying out that fancy wool Mum got him…wow, I’m really in a position to worry about All Might’s knitting, huh? If you’d told me this ten years ago I’d have…focus!

“I can’t congratulate you enough on your accomplishments, my boy. Number five pro hero in all Japan, at your age, with your classmates as competitors?” Yagi reflexively leaned away from his son Midoriya, but luckily his chuckle didn’t turn into a bloody cough. “It’s been a privilege to watch you grow, my boy. I’m very proud of you, especially with the other work you’ve been doing…”

“You…really?” Midoriya was going to burn his own cheeks off blushing at this rate. “I was, uh, worried that being too, uh, controversial, uh, I mean, you didn’t really do as, well, not in that way, I know what you did, um, that you did stuff behind the scenes of course! It’s just that, y’know, in public you didn’t, um, well, saying the things that I, uh, that I…”

 “Still the same old prince of nonsense, I see.” Yagi smiled gently at his son successor. “You’re right, I didn’t…speak out as much as you. I always felt that I had to try and be, well, something for everyone. Impartial and above politics, even if that meant biting my tongue when it came to injustice, so everyone could feel reassured when they look up to me. For all of Japan, the Symbol of Peace…but you’re not the Symbol of Peace, are you?”

“I…” Midoriya’s eyes were watering slightly.  “I know…”

“It’s not a bad thing, my boy.” Toshinori waved his hands distractedly. “What I mean is, you’re not me, and your generation’s Japan needs a different kind of symbol. One that spurs people on instead of making them feel safe, that points out flaws rather than brushes over them. A source of hope, not peace. With the announcements you’ve been making, the kind of people you’ve been standing up for…that’s what you’re becoming. I couldn’t be prouder to call you my successor.”

Midoriya had been trying his best, but he couldn’t hold himself together much longer. His dad father mentor was forced to take a step back, as tears burst from his eyes like a high-pressure hose. Despite this, a grin nearly split his face in two.

His smile only shone more after hearing what his dad All Might his dad whispered in his ear as he helped him back up:

“Y’know, if you ever need another voice for one of those campaigns, just give this old man a call. Us quirkless folk have got to stick together, eh?”

As his dad wandered off, awkwardly hailing down Eraserhead, Midoriya dabbed a little at his eyes.

…I…wow. I…think I needed that. I mean, I should know by now, but still…every time, whenever he’s proud of me. Hits me right in the chest. Right there. All warm, and fuzzy, and vibrating…

…wait a second. Vibrating?

Omigoshmyphone!

Any fearful fantasies Midoriya may have had about his agency being laid siege to by villains were put to rest when he saw the caller’s ID on the screen.

“Hi, mum!”

“Oh, is this a bad time, dear? It sounds like you’re at a party…”

“No, no, it’s fine, honestly!” Midoriya awkwardly shimmied his way over to a quieter corner of the hall, stopping in front of a picture window. “You’re really not bothering me at all, and it’s great to hear from you, and, uh, how are you?”

“Fine, dear, thanks for asking.” There was a quiet rustling from the background, like pages being turned. “I’m, well, I’m really sorry if I’m bothering you, but I, well it’s just, well, obviously congratulations! I know you’ve been working hard for it…” The familiar sound of a sniffle met Midoriya’s ears. “…my baby! In the top ten heroes!”

“I-I mean, it’s not, uh, well, not really the same thing, I mean, y’know, technically it’s just top ten villain apprehension now, and, uh, y’know, different awards for different stuff, and if you look at the overall tables…” Midoriya continued desperately equivocating, while worrying that his mother’s tears would start streaming out of his phone and into the hall.

“Nonsense! You’ve worked hard for this achievement, baby. You deserve to feel proud.” The rustling noise returned as his mother’s tears subsided. “I’m just calling because, well, I was looking at our photo album, a couple of other mothers in my sewing group mentioned some ideas for decorating them, and, well, I was looking at the photos of you, and…” More audible tears. “…you’ve got so big, baby. I’m…it seems like yesterday, you were playing hero in an All Might onesie., rescuing me from an imaginary villain…and now you’re doing it for real. Your dream, for real. I…I’m so proud of…”

Midoriya instinctively flinched away from the splash zone. Luckily, phones still lacked the technology to transport water over the line.

“…so, uh, mum? How have—well, how are you?” he added back in once the sobbing subsided. “I mean, it’s been a while since we’ve had a proper talk, I, uh, if you’re not too busy, then…”

“Well!” Inko’s voice audibly perked up. “Like I mentioned, the sewing group is going well—Ito-san’s got us all working on a huge tapestry of the park, so I haven’t had much time on my own projects, but switching over to cross-stitch has done wonders for the cushion covers I was making…”

It’s really great Mum’s been getting into her hobbies more. After Hisashi moved out, she put that stuff away, and then, well…I was a handful, but now she’s got the time to pursue her interests. I was worried she’d be lonely.

Eventually, Midoriya’s mother hung up, leaving her son alone, for now, with his thoughts.

…I wonder what Hisashi’s even doing these days. I mean, I assume he saw me on the news at some point, and you’d think he’d come see me. Or write. Or call, even! Mum always said he was pretty mercenary; you’d think he’d want some of the cash from doing a tell-all book about “being the father of the Symbol of Hope” or whatever! Even now, even after I’ve come this far, he still won’t acknowledge me, and I know Shouto’d just tell me to forget about him, but…what am I doing wrong? Am I that weak, still, that pathetic, that he won’t just come and say—

“—Earth to Deku? Come in, Deku? Bzzt, the planet needs you, bzzt! Don’t leave for Mars, bzzt!”

Midoriya nearly jumped at the noise. “Eri-kun! You’ve got so tall!”

Eri rolled her eyes at the older hero. “ Everyone says that. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that this evening?” An overdramatic sigh punctuated her remarks. “Guess that’s what I get for coming to the reunion party, huh?”

As she spoke, Midoriya took in the young girl’s appearance. I wasn’t kidding earlier; she’ll probably beat me in height given a couple of years—she’s already beat me if you count the horn. Definitely bulking up for U.A., as well. Good to know Aizawa-sensei’s just as harsh on his actual kids. More than that, she looks…happy. Really happy.

“Yeah, I, uh, used to hate it when my mum invited Auntie Mitsuki, err, Kacchan’s mum, around. Couldn’t get away from her reactions…” Midoriya awkwardly trailed off, scratching at his scalp. “How are you? Isn’t it, err, well, kind of—you’re up a bit late, aren’t you?”

“Papa says I’m a big girl now, and Dad doesn’t get to stop him because his sleep schedule is broken beyond repair.” Eri calmly took a sip from the fruit juice she was holding in one hand. “Izumi-kun still couldn’t come, though, and he’s all mad about it even though he’s pretending he isn’t. He really wanted to show you his new essay…”

“Oh! Well, uh, just—wait, does he have my email address? Just, I’ll give him my email address, and make sure to tell him I’m super excited to read it, and…”  Midoriya paused, his hands frozen in the middle of gesticulating. “…and you came over here to tell me—to get me to do something, didn’t you?”

Chuckling, Eri gestured over to a small stage, where a group of performers, led by Jiro, were preparing to start. On the floor below, dance partners drifted towards each other; Aoyama twirled towards Tokoyami, Yoarashi cheerfully strode up to Shouto, and Ochako tapped her foot, looking expectantly towards Midoriya’s corner.

“She thought you’d want to see me enough to get you out of the mumblestorm. Get moving, lover boy!”

Midoriya couldn’t hide his smile as he sped over to his girlfriend. That’s right. He’s kept out of my life for longer than Eri’s been alive. Whatever Hisashi thinks of me, it doesn’t matter…because I know I’m wanted. The proof’s all around me.

“You weren’t thinking about anything too important, right, Deku-kun?” Ochako gently took her boyfriend into her arms, grinning over her shoulder at her other boyfriend trying hard to indicate to Yoarashi that his toes were being stepped on. “I’d hate to think I just cut short a plan to wipe out the last PLF remnants just ‘cause I wanted to foxtrot.”

“I…It wasn’t anything. Just stupid stuff.” Midoriya knew she was joshing him, but still felt the need to get defensive. “Even if it wasn’t…I’d still drop it for you.”

As the band struck up for the first dance, Ochako gently leant forward towards Midoriya’s mouth. “You can have plans, silly. Still, if you’ll insist on putting me first…I’ll certainly take advantage of it.”

Midoriya bent his head forward into the kiss, and let his feet start to move in time with the music.

I’m loved.

The dancing went smoother than Midoriya was worrying—even the three-person tango, which had lead to quite a number of embarrassing breakages in Ochako’s small apartment, suddenly seemed so simple, even when manoeuvring around the other dancers. All the excitement happened to other people—Yoarashi’s lift throwing Tenya halfway to the ceiling, Shindo’s date throwing a drink into his face before storming out, Dark Shadow clearing a circle in the middle of the floor for Kuiroro to…huh. Look’s like Komori’s walking out as well…looks like he’s about to get down on one—he isn’t—he is!

“K-kinoko-kun, I…I love you. Words can’t describe how I…” The jet-black hero nearly stumbles over his own tongue before an unsubtle nudge from Tokoyami gets him going again. He reaches into his pocket. “…will you…will you walk forever in darkness with—”

Komori’s face is pink, but she neatly yanks the silver ring from its box. “Heck yeah-shroom!”

With the sounds of cheers all around him, Midoriya burst into tears once again, tears that only flowed stronger from what he heard at the edge of his hearing while he went to congratulate the happy couple.   

“—Deku-kun looks super happy. I know you said he might not like being put on the spot, but I’m thinking—”

“—I’ve got a good eye for jewellery, I think, but you’re better with the price—we can make a date of it—”

“—his birthday next month, so maybe a day or two after that? Just a private thing—”

“—love you too, Uraraka-kun. Don’t worry, you’ll get one of your own—”

…I’m…I…

Well, I guess I’ll have to pretend to be surprised. Still, I can’t say this is a bad problem to have.

The party slowly started to wind down after Kurioro’s proposal. The happy couple were the first to leave, a clearly exultant Tokage dragging them both out by their shoulders for a night on the town. In half an hour, the dancing had pretty much ground to a halt, and the hall filled with quiet conversation and slow goodbyes…

“…dreadfully sorry, Ashido-sama!”

…and one loud, sudden, entrance.

“My marking rather snowed me under, I’m afraid, and once we finally got going, we ran into rather the group of ruffians!” Shishida babbled apologetically in front of Mina, hunching his shoulders slightly in a futile attempt to make his wolf-like bulk seem small. “They were, ah, familiar with him from his internship, you see, so the takedown was swift…but of course, the paperwork was…really, I’m dreadfully sorry, Ashido-sama, and otherwise I wouldn’t have come, but…”

Drawn by the noise, Midoriya moved towards Shishida. Ah geez, poor guy. Mina’s probably flustering him a bit too much, I’ll see if I can draw some of the fire… “Hey Shishida! How’s, uh, I hear you’re teaching now!”

“Ah, Midoriya-sama!” Shishida visibly brightened upon seeing his colleague. “Just the hero I wanted to see. Or, well, not I , but…my student.”

A teenaged voice came from behind Shishida. “This is stupid…”

“Nonsense, m’boy! No true hero would give up this close to their goal. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to meet you!”

“Yeah!” I guess this is one of Gevaduan’s students. Must be a big fan. “What’s your name, kid?”

The kid who shuffled out from behind Gevaduan seemed familiar in a way Midoriya couldn’t quite place. Long black hair was bunched under their costume’s hood, and hung over their eyes. The rest of their dark-coloured costume was covered in pockets, belts, and equipment pouches, with an orange facial cowl the largest splash of colour. A cowl they pulled down before they spoke.

“I’m….my name is Akatani. Akatani Mikumo.” Something flared at the back of his eyes. “And I’m going to be the first quirkless hero!”

Oh. That’s why he’s familiar…

“…are you okay, Deku-sama? You’re…you’re crying.”

“I’m fine, Akatani-san.” Midoriya flashed a Symbol-of-Hope smile, and was surprised to find it felt as natural as breathing. “I…I’m sure you’ll make an incredible hero!”

The hero student’s face lit up like a sunrise, and his mouth began to twitch in a manner that suggested a barely contained mumblestorm. Preparing to answer, Midoriya turned his head around, taking in the hall. His dad, sharing stories with Ochako, Shouto patiently nodding through Eri’s account of something, Tsu staring down Monoma over the chicken wings, so many others who he knew and counted as friends…

…and at the back of the hall, a tall stranger, all in black, with a wide-brimmed hat.

Midoriya nodded his head. The stranger nodded back.

 Somewhere—Midoriya could hear them quite clearly—bells were ringing.