Archive of Our Own

"You've fulfilled your purpose flawlessly."

Yuga doesn't raise his bowed head at the villain's words, instead setting the trajectory of his gaze unyieldingly on the tips of his loafers. He hopes the choice reads as a show of deference or fear rather than avoidance borne of a guilty conscience, but he isn’t quite certain. All For One has always been difficult to trick.

"The heroes of Yuuei brought to heel and All Might's beloved successor within my grasp. You've truly proven yourself a worthy investment, and a loyal one at that. As I'm sure you're aware, I reward those who earn my favor handsomely."

Despite his discomfort, Yuga can't help but feel a thrill at the villain's final statement. After all these years of blind servitude, of perpetual fear, nights spent awake to avoid recurring nightmares brimming with gore, and terror, and death, has he finally earned his freedom? His family's freedom?

He intakes a sharp, anticipatory breath.

If the villain registers the sound, he makes no indication, rising from his throne to approach Yuga where he stands. Placing a heavy hand – a terrifying hand – on his shoulder, All For One directs his attention solely on Yuga, neglecting the sea of loyal vassals that surround them on either side.

Yuga manages to contain his overwhelming desire to flinch, but still can't manage to raise his head.

"From this day forth, you shall serve as a member of my inner circle, receiving all the worldly benefits that such a position begets. Your family will not be killed, but will instead live a life of continued privilege and prosperity under my rule."

Yuga bristles slightly at the declaration, pulse quickening compulsively as the breath escapes his lungs. The reward All For One is proposing, if he's even generous enough to call it that, is nothing short of torture. Continued indenturement at the hands of a megalomaniacal madman stretching out infinitely before him, years of servitude, of fealty, and barring that, death.

All of his wrongdoings, every proudly declared lie, every soft spoken secret, every betrayal, has amounted to absolutely nothing .

"Thank you," Yuga breathes through numb lips. "For your generosity."

"Of course, child," the man responds, placing a hand under Yuga's chin. Forcefully, he raises his face upward. There's no choice but to view the reward his actions have wrought. If the villain had eyes, Yuga is certain that cruelty would swim in their depths. "You've earned it."

—

Midoriya is being kept on the third basement floor beneath All For One's primary center of operations. Yuga knows that because, torturously enough, he's been tasked with delivering his former peer his daily allotment of food.

Yuga suspects that this assignment is entirely based on his captor's cruelty rather than any special fitness; anyone can deliver a tray of gruel, especially in the meager proportions that Midoriya seems to have been alloted, but not just anyone can serve as a reminder of the betrayal that landed him in captivity in the first place.

He knows about Yuga's actions, of course. All For One had made sure that all of his peers had, and the heroes too, to boot. A blow to their morale, he'd explained. And it had worked. Yuga still recalls the pain that had shown in Midoriya's eyes then, as he'd realized where Yuga's loyalties truly lied. 

Midoriya's quirk had already been stolen by that point, and his classmates scattered across the ruins of Yuuei, bruised and bloodied bodies laid precariously over chunks of debris. Only Yuga and Midoriya had remained unscathed. Yuga would've preferred to hurt. He'd certainly deserved it. He still does.

He doesn't know how many of his former friends are alive. He can only hope the number is greater than zero. Optimism is hardly something he excels at.

The tray's contents sway as he walks. There isn’t enough food to feed a cat for one meal, much less a human, and it's with a pang of fear that Yuga realizes something terrible. It's been two days since Midoriya was taken captive. This is his first trip to the basement.

Despite the fear that he feels as he considers the possibility of facing his rightfully angry friend, Yuga quickens his pace.

Midoriya's cell is dark when Yuga enters, but automatic lights flicker on with artificial, migraine-inducing brilliance as he passes the threshold. His eye catches on a sensor above the door as he enters, but following a quick sweep of the room, he realizes it's the only one. For the majority of his tenure, Midoriya must be enveloped in complete and utter darkness.

Yuga inhales, preparing himself to deliver a greeting, but before he can open his mouth, the door, heavy by merit of the metal that accents it, swings shut with an ear-splitting bang. Yuga jumps.

"Hello?" The voice that emanates from behind the room's steel bars is cracked and dry, scratchy from what Yuga assumes to be a combination of dehydration and disuse. "I already told you, I'm not going to-"

The words catch as Midoriya steps out of the shadows, mouth freezing beneath a set of wide, hollow eyes. Betrayal flashes briefly across them as they scan Yuga up and down, obviously noting the clothing he's wearing, his perfectly combed hair, his state of unblemished health.

Then, the betrayal melts away into something softer. Pity.

"Aoyama." Midoriya grants him a soft frown. There's no hatred in it. No malice. Yuga wishes there were. "So he decided to send you, did he?"

"Oui, I… I suppose he did."

"He told me why you did it, you know. All For One, I mean."

Yuga bites his lip. "Oh? That was… oddly generous of him."

And he means it. He doesn't think he would've had the courage to.

"I empathize, at least on some level. I love my mom more than anything. If he'd found me back then, when I was quirkless like you were, I might’ve been placed in exactly the same situation. Possibly a worse one. I don't hate you, you know."

Yuga feels tears blossom in his eyes. This isn’t what he wants to hear. Not even marginally. "You should. It's my fault that-"

"Stop," Midoriya interrupts. "There's no use in placing the blame now. What's done is done. Besides, I'm sure you're suffering just as much as the rest of us."

"And why would you think that?"

"You haven't slept since I was captured, I can tell by the bags under your eyes, not to mention the guilt is plain enough on your face that I don’t imagine anyone could miss it. I'm not going to say I forgive you for what you did, but I understand it, and right now, that's enough. We aren't enemies, Aoyama. You're still my friend."

Yuga clenches his teeth. Wordlessly, he approaches Midoriya's cell, sliding the tray of food through a clearly intentional indentation in the concrete.

Midoriya investigates the tray's contents with unveiled shock, double-taking as if expecting some sudden transformation to occur. "This is it?"

"Je suis désolé." Yuga bows his head in apology. "I tried to argue with the waitstaff but they were insistent that All For One ordered-"

"You're certain he was the one who asked for this?" Midoriya points an accusatory finger at the tray, mouth set in an uneven line. After a moment of silence, his eyes widen. "Or… wait. Of course he did."

He scowls, prodding at the tray with the toe of his shoe. "He's sending a message."

"Ah?" Yuga quirks a quizzical eyebrow. "Well… yes. I'm sure that's part of it?"

"Mhm." Midoriya crouches down, using one hand to slide the tray back through the gap. "Throw it out. I don't want it."

Yuga bristles, shaking his head vigorously from side to side before pushing the tray back to his former classmate. "You need to eat. You look like you're wasting away."

"Yes, and that's exactly-" Midoriya's eyes rise from the tray to meet Yuga's in a fit of annoyance, but as soon as they lock on, they lose their sharpness entirely. The boy blinks, and all his rage is replaced with something far softer. That terrible, unbearable pity. "You'll blame yourself if I don't eat this, won't you?"

"I.." Yuga blinks. " Of course I will. Midoriya, you already look like you're starving, and you're-" 

He doesn't finish his sentence, but it hangs in the air like a butcher's knife. You're the only one I managed to save . What hurts the most is that it isn't even true. Midoriya is far from safe.

"Fine." Midoriya plops down to the floor, placing the tray atop his crossed legs. "I'll eat. But only if you keep me company."

Yuga nods, setting himself down opposite Midoriya. The concrete floor is stingingly cold and the steel bars dig into his back with brutal resilience, but he ignores both for the sake of Midoriya, who has no choice but to suffer their discomforts.

"Are the others okay?" Midoriya asks, lifting the plastic spoon from its place beside his bowl. He pokes at its contents with poorly concealed hunger, obviously awaiting Yuga's response. "Are they… are they injured?"

"I don't know."

"Oh." 

Midoriya clenches his eyes shut before raising the spoon to his lips and taking a bite. He tries to show restraint, at least for a moment, but before long, he's shoveled down several spoonfuls in quick succession.

Yuga watches on in silence. When his former classmate eats, the pain in his chest ebbs, if only by a fraction. For the time being, at least, Midoriya is safe.

—

Each consecutive day, Yuga brings Midoriya his food. And each consecutive day, Midoriya refuses to eat until Yuga sits beside him.

They talk every trip without fail, sometimes about everything, but more often, about nothing at all. Neither of them know a thing about the goings on of the outside world; Yuga is just as much a prisoner as Midoriya, albeit in a much larger cage. 

Speculating on the fates of their loved ones is always distressing, so it's easier to just discuss the bird that Yuga heard outside his room's singular small, round window, or the growth of the potted plant that sits on his nightstand.

Once Midoriya asked about how Yuga himself was eating, and he'd done all he could to avoid the question. All For One hadn't been lying when he'd said he provided for his followers, but Yuga only eats the barest of portions. Bringing Midoriya his food, he would feel terribly guilty otherwise.

It's always the same, an unidentifiable, multi-textured slop in a styrofoam bowl, transported atop a gray plastic tray with a small cup of water and a miniscule white spoon. Midoriya eats it regardless, though he doesn't seem to enjoy it. Yuga suspects he only does so for the company it grants him.

It isn’t quite so noticeable at first, but slowly, Yuga begins to realize that someone else has been visiting Midoriya in the hours when he himself is absent.

He knows because after a day or two of visits, Midoriya flinches each time he enters the room, eyes wide with all the fear inherent to a hunted animal before calming as they settle on Yuga. His shoulders relax then, and he beckons Yuga over with a hand. A hand that is quite nearly always shaking.

It takes a few weeks for the real concern to set in though.

"Are you alright?" He can't help but ask after Midoriya scrambles away from the sound of the door hinges, sliding back across the floor in a mad frenzy.

Still panting, the boy lifts himself from the floor, dusting off his clothing as though he'd simply taken a fall. His eye twitches at a rate of at least ten spasms per minute. 

"I'm alright." Midoriya gives a shaky nod, almost as if more for his sake than Yuga's. "Yeah. Don't worry about me. Please. Where's… where's the…"

"Food?"

"Yeah. The food."

Yuga scans Midoriya's body, but there are no signs of injury. No scars, no cuts, no bruises, breaks, or tears. After a moment, he begrudgingly steps forward, sliding the tray under the gap.

When he sits down, back against the bars, he can feel Midoriya trembling.

"Tell me about your day," Midoriya orders, voice cracking. "Tell me something good, and happy, and nice. About the weather maybe, or something funny you saw someone do."

The weather had been stormy. Yuga decides to lie. "It was sunny outside today. Not the usual kind of dull, white sunlight, but that special, golden sort, the sort you only get on especially gorgeous days, when it feels like the Sun is intentionally embracing the Earth. I sat under the window today, while I was reading. It was nice."

"It sounds nice." Midoriya's body doesn't still, but his shivers do lose some of their urgency. "I miss the sunlight a lot, but when you describe it, and I close my eyes and focus on your voice, it's like I'm there with you, sitting under that window. I wish I really had been."

Silently, Yuga slides his hand under the bars, palm down. It only takes a few seconds for warmth to envelop his fingers, wrapping around him in bony, scarred segments. Midoriya squeezes his hand. He squeezes back.

"I'm scared, Aoyama."

"Of what?"

"These days, it feels like everything. Everything but you."

There's a beat of silence.

"I feel the same way."

The days continue on in that manner for a time, Midoriya's inherent discomfort worsening with each trip, and Yuga, always ordered to distract him with something pleasantly mundane.

One day, the first day that the shivering and twitching is joined by something new, an indecipherable, frenzied muttering, Yuga's concern for Midoriya's wellbeing overwhelms his desire to avoid difficult topics, and he can't help but ask after his friend's life rather than continue to recount his own.

"Has… has someone been visiting you while I'm gone?" He asks, voice as tentative as a feather and twice as light. "You seem a bit… uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," Midoriya replies swiftly, flinching back as if hit. His eyes shift rapidly between his bowl and the door. "You don't need to worry about me. Tell me about your mother's progress on that quilt."

"But-"

"Don't." This time, there's a bite to Midoriya's voice that Yuga has never heard prior. "I clearly don't want to talk about this. There's nothing that either of us can do about it anyways, so there's no point discussing or dwelling on it. I'd rather just forget. Tell me about the quilt."

Yuga understands that desire better than anyone.

"Alright." He reaches his hand through the bars. Midoriya takes it. "I'll tell you about the quilt."

—

"You've been speaking with young Izuku, haven't you?" 

All For One speaks the question with overwhelming confidence. It's obviously more a statement than an inquiry, purely rhetorical. Yuga silently recalls the camera positioned above the holding room's door.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No." There's no delay between question and response, no deliberation. Yuga's skin crawls. "I'm happy that you've been chatting with our honored guest, even if he has been a bit… difficult, as of late."

Yuga raises a hand to worry at a lock of hair. Of course All For One has been the one visiting Midoriya. He'd suspected it from the start. But he still has no idea what he wants, or more importantly, how he's been going about getting it.

"Difficult?"

The villain nods, respirator tubes clinking against the back of his throne. Yuga has come to loathe his scarred face, his hollow eyes, his ever-droning mouth, as much as he feels himself capable of loathing anything.

Unfortunately, even more powerful than his righteous anger is his fear.

"Just so. You see, I'm quite intent on welcoming the boy into our fold. I wish to grant him the same status and freedoms that you currently enjoy, just as I'm certain you do. Unfortunately, however, it seems that he is intent on perpetuating the obstinacy innate to his heritage. All my efforts to sway his will have amounted to naught but increased resistance."

"And…" Yuga considers his words carefully, allowing them ample time to marinate in his mind before releasing them from his mouth. "And what exactly have your efforts constituted?"

"The usage of a few choice quirks." The villain waves a haphazard hand dismissively through the air. "All perfectly harmless, I can assure you. None extend beyond the purpose of persuasion, and all are entirely mental. I haven’t injured the boy in the least. He's far too valuable for that."

Yuga feels his shoulders drop, releasing an enormous tension he hadn't even been aware they were holding. Midoriya is safe.

"And why are you telling me this?"

"I require your assistance. Why else?" The villain's mouth twists into a smile. "Izuku wouldn't eat prior to your intervention, nor would he sleep, unless absolutely forced. I'm not keeping him in the cell because I want to, you know, I'm keeping him there because he refused all other accommodations. I suppose my response was a tad petty, but discipline is occasionally necessary in these sorts of situations, wouldn't you agree?"

Yuga has absolutely no idea what All For One is hinting at, but he nods all the same. "Certainly."

"Oddly enough, you seem to be the key to changing his perspective. He won't listen to me, but he will listen to you. You don’t have to convince him of anything. All I need is a seed of doubt. A few suggestions of compliance here and there, a word or two in surrender's favor, and your reward will be considerable. How would you like to reunite with your former classmates?"

Yuga's posture straightens. The others are still alive . And if he can convince Midoriya to exhibit a bit of obedience, just a bit, then maybe the whole class can be together again. He can have his cake and eat it too. 

All he has to do is play his cards right.

"Consider it done."

—

"Tell me about anything." Midoriya arches his neck upwards towards the artificial led of the room's singular overhead. From Yuga's angle, he looks unbelievably statuesque, but tragic too. A wilted houseplant, once gorgeous, reaching for the last dregs of sun in a darkened home. "A joke you heard. An outfit you've put together. A new book you discovered. Anything."

Yuga doesn't even wait this time. He slides his hand through the bars and searches out Midoriya's, clutching it with ferocity. His voice sounds horribly drained. Lifeless. As if he's accepted the darkness, and the gruel, and the isolation, and the horrifying, inescapable tragedy of it all. 

Yuga needs to get him out, and soon.

"Would you like to sit in the sun with me, Midoriya?" He asks, voice barely more than a whisper. "Leave this horrible, depressing room behind and come upstairs, into the light?"

His question is met with a half-hearted grunt. 

"I don't know what you're getting at here," Midoriya begins, pointer finger delicately tracing the folds in Yuga's palm. "But I already told you I'm fine."

"No. You told me you were scared."

"Scared is fine," he protests, tone numb. "As long as I get to see you. We've made some good memories here, you know. It really isn’t so terrible."

Yuga tries not to tear up at that.

"It is terrible Midoriya, you don’t have to lie for me. I don’t deserve your pity, but you deserve something better than this. All For One Said-"

Midoriya's hand yanks free of Yuga's, a strangled gasp escaping his throat. "You've been talking to him ?"

"I have. He says he's willing to set you free if you cooperate with him. Midoriya, you can't stay here, not much longer. This isn’t sustainable, and you know it. You're fading, and I'm not going to sit idly by and watch you destroy yourself like this when I have the power to help."

"You don’t understand!" Midoriya's yell doesn't sound angry. Just desperate. Desperate and terrified. "He isn’t just making trips down here to talk to me, you know, he's invading my head, planting lies, moving things around… if I'm not vigilant, constantly vigilant, then one day, whatever he's trying to do is actually going to work, and then…"

Midoriya pauses, fishing for words.

"And then what?" Yuga asks, standing. "And then you're finally free? Finally happy? Midoriya, me telling you about life secondhand isn't a substitute for actual living. So what if you have to swallow down a few lies? You'll be safe, and we'll actually really be-"

He stops mid-sentence. He realizes how selfish his words will sound. How presumptuous.

"You don't have anything to be afraid of. We've already lost this war in every way that matters. Giving in isn’t a failure of character at this point, it's a logical play. It's either rot in this cell for the sake of an already dead cause, or-"

"Or be with you, right?" Midoriya snorts. "Aoyama, you still don't get it. I understand that you feel responsible for me. That you think maintaining my life is some sort of penance for your betrayal. But it isn’t. You really don't owe me anything, and even if you did, I wouldn't accept it. I care about you too much for that. This is my choice to make, and I-"

Yuga turns around. When his eyes catch Midoriya's, his peer's mouth stills. His gaunt face glows a soft shade of pink.

"I think you should go."

All For One's words echo in Yuga's mind. You don't need to convince him of anything. All I need is a seed of doubt .

"Alright."

With that, Yuga is gone.

—

A week later when Yuga goes to retrieve Midoriya's food, he finds that it's an entirely different meal than anything he's delivered prior. Rather than the usual slop, the bowl in the tray's center is filled with plain rice.

It's not better than what Midoriya used to be receiving by much, but it is better. Yuga decides to interpret the shift as a good omen.

Midoriya does not.

"Aoyama, I can't accept this." He pushes the food back under the bar, mouth twisted into a petrified grimace. "I want you to throw it away."

Yuga can't help but sigh. "Midoriya, I have no idea what game you're playing at, but-"

"This is a reward," Midoriya interrupts, voice clipped. "Positive reinforcement. It means I did something right. Something he wanted. Either I internalized some rhetoric he gave me, or bought a memory he planted, or- well, it doesn't matter. I'm not sure how or why I slipped, but I can't do it again. I'm not eating this."

Yuga slides the tray back. "We talked about this, didn't we? I'm not going to let you starve yourself."

"Don't do this. Please." Midoriya sinks back against the bars, sliding down to the floor. "Don't leverage your concern for me like this. You know I don't want you to feel like-"

"Like it's my responsibility to take care of you? Like I need to make sure you stay alive out of guilt? Then don't think of it like that. I'm your friend, and I'm concerned for your health. That should be enough."

There's a beat of tense silence as Midoriya stares down at the tray, expression contemplative.

"If I agree to eat this, will you do something for me?"

"That depends. What do you want me to do?"

"Today, we aren't going to talk about the present. I know it's painful for you, and I certainly relate, but… I need to think about the past."

Yuge tries not to visibly tense. "Ah. Si vous insistez, I suppose I have no choice. What would you like to talk about?"

"Hm. Give me a minute, I can remember this, I know I can." Midoriya reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck, obviously contemplating something difficult. After a moment, his eyes light with triumph. "All Might. Tell me about All Might."

Yuga quite nearly startles. "All Might?"

"Yes, All Might. My memories of him are hazy. I think they've been messed with, but I have no idea how."

"Oh."

For a moment, all is quiet.

"Why don't you try telling me what you do remember, and I'll fill in the gaps?"

"Sure." Midoriya's sigh is more than a bit strangled. "I'll start with the obvious stuff. All Might was a hero. The highest ranked hero in Japan."

Another pause.

"I… I met him once, right? On a rooftop, maybe? But he also showed up at school once, didn't he? Or… maybe he didn't? I keep thinking of a beach… does any of that make sense to you?"

Yuga blinks. What Midoriya seems to be describing is an enormous gap in memory. He idolized All Might, more than anyone else. He should still idolize him more than anyone else.

"Midoriya, he was our heroics studies teacher. You had lunch with him nearly once a week. You must remember that, oui?"

"I…" Midoriya's voice cracks. "I don't. I don't remember that at all. But… he must've been important, right? Aside from the whole being a hero and our teacher thing. Something keeps nagging at the back of my mind, something significant."

Yuga can't help but worry at his hair. "He gave you your quirk. He trained you with it too. I think the two of you were close, or at least it always seemed that way."

"What?" The air fills with the sound of nails nervously scraping against polished concrete. "What do you mean he gave me my quirk? That's impossible. Quirks aren't transferable, and I don't even have one to begin with."

"You don't have one because All For One took it away. Midoriya, how do you think you were accepted into Yuuei?"

"I…" Midoriya squints, his nervous scratching increasing in frequency. "I don't know. I don't really remember actually studying anything at Yuuei, just… just people. Mostly you."

Suddenly, Midoriya rises, tray clattering the ground as it spills from his lap. When he pivots to face Yuga, his eyes are frantic.

"I don't remember classes, or studying, or… or anything! It's like there's a whole year of my life just… missing. I-"

"Midoriya," Yuga interjects, slowly approaching the bars. "Calm down. You having a panic attack isn't going to help anyone. Let's take a second and breathe, and I'll tell you the details. Does that sound okay?"

Midoriya nods, though there are tears running down his cheeks. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

The two sit, this time facing each other, and talk. About class, and friendships, and holidays, and quirks, and All Might. They don't finish until late into the day, when Yuga's watch begins to display a time that coincides with the seasonal setting of the sun.

When he tries to leave, uttering completely valid excuses regarding his parents' concern for his well being, Midoriya clutches at his hand even tighter, refusing to allow him to leave.

Yuga finds the practice endearing, but only until Midoriya tells him why. 

You can't leave . I need you to stay . I need you to be here for me . I can't lose any more of myself .

It takes a significant amount of coaxing to escape after that. Or more specifically, a promise.

I'll be back tomorrow. I swear. You won't have to wait long.

Once Yuga finally manages to slip away, he's hit with an immeasurable wave of relief. As guilty as he feels for abandoning his closest friend, he knows he's done the right thing.

Because if he'd continued recounting the past much longer, then he would've reached the piece of it he regrets participating in most. No, it's definitely better this way.

All Might is dead, and if Midoriya doesn't remember that fact, then Yuga certainly won't be the one to tell him.

—

"I'm certain you're already conscious of your mistake."

Yuga nods. Agree, agree, agree. That's always the best course of action when dealing with a madman.

"If young Izuku is to join us as I intend, it is absolutely paramount that he be sheltered from… dissenting views."

"By which you mean…?"

"The past you recall and the past as it exists for Midoriya Izuku are two distinctly separate entities." All For One's voice is just as certain as ever, though Yuga can't help but internally cringe at his words. "Our goal is to reinforce the correct past for Midoriya, not dredge up memories I'm certain we both agree are better off forgotten."

"You don't want me to tell Midoriya the-" Yuga manges to stop himself just in time. The truth. "You don't want me to tell Midoriya about the past that I remember."

"Precisely." The villain flashes him a condescending smile. "We don't want to confuse our honored guest, do we? One record of the past should be enough."

Yuga releases a shaky breath. "Right. Just agree with what Midoriya gives me and don't offer anything to contradict it. Got it."

"Yes. Although," the villain begins. "Luckily enough for you, I've decided to grant you temporary leave. Now that Izuku is eating regularly without coaxing, your services shouldn't be required for some time. You may use your time as you see fit until I once again deem your presence necessary."

A thrill of panic runs down Yuga's spine. He'd told Midoriya he would be back the next day. He'd promised .

"Ce n'est pas un souci! I don't mind working, not at all! I won't contradict your version of the truth, not at all, and-"

"Yuga." The man's voice is filled with enough brutal self-assurance that Yuga can't help but silence himself. "As I've stated previously, your services are not required in the conditioning of Midoriya Izuku. If you'd prefer to take on another task, however, I may be able to oblige. It's time you received your second reward."

"You mean…?"

"Yes." The villain nods. "How would you like to reunite with your friends?"

—

A deep sense of wrongness settles into Yuga's bones and makes a home there, worming its way through flesh, and nerve, and sinew and making its home in the darkest, most central portions of his being. His eyes remain locked on the floor. Anything to avoid the intrinsic horror instilled by the thing that stands before him.

The thing that should be Mina, but very pointedly isn't.

It has her quirk, certainly, hosts her brain, wears her skin. But it isn’t her. It's a zombie, a member of the walking dead, far more hollow than anything with eyes, and a heart, and a working nervous system should ever have any right to be.

And Yuga is meant to command it. All For One specifically ordered it.

The message is clear: I own you. Continue to fail me, and this will be your future. Your friends' future. There are worse fates than death.

Yuga orders the thing that was Ashido Mina to spew acid. To level cities. To round up survivors. It complies. It's a puppet in the same vein he is, when it really comes down to it.

He's allowed to go outside now, allowed to roam the city, but he often wishes he weren't. The vitality has drained from it, leaving it in a hollow, cracked shell of its former glory, and looking at it does nothing but drain him.

All For One hadn't spoken with him personally on the matter of his new orders, but he had left a note. His other classmates are still human, and maybe that's what's important. As long as he does as ordered, as long as Midoriya does as ordered, then they'll be safe.

As of now, they're nothing but leverage. Collateral. Yuga has no idea where they're being kept, but similarly to Midoriya, he isn't allowed to see them.

Yuga misses Midoriya more than he hates the dismal proceedings of his new office. Midoriya, who held his hand through cold iron bars. Midoriya, who understood his pain better than anyone. Midoriya, who listened to him talk about sunlight as if his was the only voice on the planet that mattered.

It isn't as though Midoriya was ever his only option for company. Yuga can speak to his parents, to his peers. But none of them are as real as Midoriya, as immediate. Even if for the worst of reasons, he and his former classmate are tied, connected by some supernatural string of fate, and he has absolutely no desire to sever it.

All For One had implied that he would be assigned to watch after Midoriya again, eventually.

So he waits.

—

It's three whole months before Yuga is asked to visit Midoriya again. Three whole months that might as well be a year.

In the time between he's kept track of the trays leaving the kitchens, at least when he's available to, and he's seen them increase in quality often enough that he isn't at all surprised to be handed a reasonably portioned bowl of katsudon. With a little bartering, Yuga is able to add on a side of cheese. He picks some of his favorites, arranging them to resemble the kanji for Midoriya's name.

He isn’t directed to the basement, but rather the third floor, which suits him just fine. Midoriya has obviously received an upgrade.

When Yuga finally plucks up the courage to open the door, what he finds on the other side is surprising, if only in the sense of its inherent mundanity.

Midoriya sits cross legged across a well-made bed, notebook balanced in his lap. He's still skinny, but not skinny enough to be starving, and although his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, he looks… happy.

Yuga isn't certain why a pit begins to form in his stomach, just that it does.

But then, Midoriya looks up at him, eyes lighting up with brilliant bliss, genuine bliss, and his misgivings fade faster than anything else in the world.

"Aoyama!"

"Midoriy-! Ah!"

He isn’t ready for the embrace, but it catches him all the same, setting him off-balance and sending him spinning on his heel. Midoriya's arms wrap around him with all the warmth he's been drained of, all the comfort he's so dearly missed, and in that moment, the world is just the two of them and nothing more.

Yuga doesn't even register the loss of the katsudon until the two of them finally split nearly a full minute later. Midoriya looks down at the spilled food and laughs.

"Sorry about that, didn't mean to catch you off guard there. I was just so excited to see you again."

"Ne t'inquiète pas," Yuga responds with a slight shake of the head. "It wasn't my food."

"Right!" The declaration is punctuated by another laugh. "I've really missed you, y’know? I can't even remember how long it's been."

"Three months." The reply is immediate. Yuga counted the days. "It's been three months."

"Oh!" Izuku tilts his head to one side, raising a hand to twist a curl in his hair. The gesture isn't nervous though, just thoughtful. "I guess I've been sick for a while now, haven't I?"

Yuga swallows. He recalls All For One's warning. "Yes. I'm glad to see that you've recovered."

Midoriya nods, biting his lip. "Not fully, but dad says I'm almost there. Just a few more sessions of treatment, and then I should be okay."

Yuga blinks. Dad?  

"Ah? And… what exactly were you sick with?"

Midoriya's eyes shift to the floor. "Hm, well… it wasn't really a sickness , if I'm being honest. It's a little personal but…" A pause. "I trust you."

He encloses Yuga's hand in his, leading him over to the bed. The two sit side by side, Midoriya's notebook lying still open on the pillow.

"You remember I disappeared for a bit, don't you? When the… the heroes took me?"

Oh no. Yuga manages a strangled "mhm."

Midoriya seems to take the gesture as a show of concern. He grants Yuga a gentle smile. "It's okay. I'm alright now. I'm here."

He takes Yuga's other hand, moving both to rest in the thin space that remains between them. Yuga holds his tongue. Doesn't speak the words fighting to escape his mouth.

I know. I'm worried because you're here.

"They messed with my head, using some sort of quirk, I think, but I'm undergoing treatment to salvage the correct memories and bury the incorrect ones. It's… tough, sometimes. Knowing what is real and what isn't. But I'm making progress. That's good, isn't it?"

Yuga nods deliberately. Guilt bubbles up in his throat, stinging and caustic, but he forces it down. He's done the right thing. Midoriya is healthy. Midoriya is happy. And when it comes down to it, he hasn't really lost anything. Not anything that wasn't hurting him to begin with, at least.

"Bien sur. It's… good that you're healing."

Midoriya tilts his head to the side, examining Yuga's expression with uncontained concern. "You're still worried about me, aren't you? I can tell."

Yuga manages a forced chuckle. "You know me too well. Midoriya…" 

He hesitates, considering his words. The question he wants to ask Midoriya would be selfish. Undeniably so. But he needs an answer.

"What do you remember about me, exactly?" He asks, tracing patterns on the comforter with nervous fingers. "Who am I to you?"

"Oh." Midoriya's grin is unimaginably gentle. "That's what's on your mind? You definitely don't need to worry then. I don't think I could ever forget you. I remember that you're my friend. That back when I was younger and house-ridden, you'd tell me stories about your day. We would study together sometimes, you were also better with foreign languages than I was. Once you showed up on my balcony with cheese, which scared me a bit because…"

Midoriya's voice trails off, expression twisting into a perplexed frown. Yuga's eyes shift to the cameras mounted on the room's walls. All For One would want him to offer some kind of explanation, wouldn't he?

"Because you were worried I'd fall. You live on the third floor."

"Oh, right!" Midoriya sighs with evident relief, a smile blossoming on his face once more. The speed at which he accepts the lie terrifies Yuga, but he doesn't let it show on his face. "You're always so reckless! You need to watch out for your health! I only say that because I care about you, you know. You scare me to death with the stunts you pull sometimes."

Midoriya doesn't remember Yuga's betrayal. He hates that he feels relief at the realization.

"Merci. I'm grateful for the concern. Midoriya… what do you think of heroes?"

Midoriya's eyes dart towards the window, hand flying up to worry nervously at a strand of hair. "Why would you ask that?"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No." Midoriya gulps. "No, it's okay. I… I need to get over the fear, I think. That's a part of healing. You're trying to help me."

He takes a deep breath, obviously gathering up his thoughts. When he speaks, his voice sounds mechanical. As though he's regurgitating textbook facts rather than conveying his own opinion.

"Heroes have always been primarily performative, tools of misinformation and propaganda rather than the betterment of society. The ideals of hope and peace they pedal are entirely performative, with the order they bring being entirely dependent on the suffering of those incapable of conforming to their twisted vision of justice. Their facade of morality is merely a thin veneer to conceal their own glaring personal flaws. They-"

"Midoriya, you can stop now." Yuga can't take anymore. He's already feeling unbearably nauseous. "I've heard what I needed to."

As if shaken from a stupor, Midoriya blinks. Head bobbing up and down with shaky, linear motions. "Yeah. Sorry."

"And… tell me, what do you remember about yourself?"

Yuga learns all about Midoriya's new past. He grew up with both his parents. He was always quirkless and generally sickly, so he never left the house unless absolutely necessary. He attended school online due to medical complications.

Yuga was his neighbor, and his only friend. The two of them attended highschool together, though wherever it was, it wasn't Yuuei. He dislikes the outdoors, is afraid of getting into fights, and doesn't tend to have strong opinions on most subjects, though he does enjoy comic books and quirk analysis.

The heroes in comic books are different, he insists. They can be good, truly good, when they're part of a false narrative. He likes the lack of realism.

And he loves his father, who he knows is a villain, though he hardly seems aware of his actions. His mother had been kidnapped too, just as he had, as a ploy to weaken his father, so she's undergoing treatment just like he is. He hasn't been able to speak to her in some time, his delusions might accidentally strengthen her's or vice versa, so for the time being, the two of them are separate.

He doesn't mention their classmates. Doesn't mention All Might. Doesn’t mention heroics, or One For All, or Yuuei. All the things that mattered to him so much before.

Yuga confirms every statement, dread growing with each passing moment. All For One's appearance is hazy in Yuga's mind, but from what he recalls, the man had been in possession of curly hair, and he still displays a very unique habit of rambling under his breath. Almost singularly unique.

"I need to go." Yuga stands, walking over to pick up the discarded tray and food from Midoriya’s floor. When his eyes fall on the scattered cheese, his heart aches. He's done something unforgivable to his friend. "Désolé."

"No, wait!" Midoriya rushes over, helping him with his work. As soon as the task is complete, his hand latches onto Yuga's wrist, grasping it with all the urgency of a dying man on a life preserver. "There's… there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Yuga's desperate eyes flash towards the door. "What?"

"You… mean a lot to me." Midoriya struggles. "You always have. And… I don't think I'd be the person I am today without you."

Yuga can't help but clench his teeth at that. Midoriya may not have meant it as a blow, but it hurts like nothing else.

"Point being I… ugh, I'm not very good at this sort of thing, but the whole being kidnapped thing, well… I guess it made me realize that if I… I may not have the time to…"

Midoriya buries his face in one hand, though the parts of it still visible to Yuga are very clearly flush.

"Look… why don't I show you?"

Suddenly, Midoriya's hand isn't on his face, instead it's somehow found its way to one corner of Yuga's jaw, its sibling traveling to the other, as his head is tilted down to meet his friend's at the lips.

It's only a peck, and a quick one at that, but it's enough to cause Yuga to drop the tray a second time.

When Midoriya draws back, the anxiety in his expression is painfully stark. As Yuga reels for a response, it worsens.

"I'm sorry I-"

"Shh."

Yuga has no idea why Midoriya just kissed him. He has feelings for his friend, has had feelings for his friend, for a long time, quite possibly the first time he realized that they were one in the same, quirkless individuals with unreachable dreams and a hunger for more.

But that feeling had always been horribly overshadowed by guilt, guilt that had only grown stronger with each passing day until it compounded into the intense self-loathing he felt at Midoriya's capture. Of course he's always desired Midoriya's affection, but it's never been something he deserves.

Receiving it like this, at the apex of his personal failure, is perhaps the most crippling injury of all. He has destroyed Midoriya, perfectly and utterly, and still all he receives in return is affection. It's a special kind of torture, he thinks. A personalized sort.

He has no idea if this is something that All For One intended, but he knows with complete and utter certainty that he stands at a crossroads.

He can return Midoriya's affection. Play into the delusion. He can live a happy lie, swallow down his guilt with such totality that it leaves him entirely, and play the puppet for a man that lives to see him and his friend, his partner , in complete subjugation.

Or he can tell the truth. Risk death, both his own and his parents', for one last bid of honesty, a grand gesture to convey his true loyalty to a friend who would've rather starved than become a doll for someone who destroyed everything he loved without shedding so much as a tear.

It's a battle of temptation, of fear against love. Both options result in ruin, one gentle and the other passionate.

Yuga decides.

He brushes the hair away from Midoriya’s forehead, planting a soft kiss on the plain of its vacancy. "I feel the same way."

Midoriya smiles, and embraces him once more, eyes brimming with happy tears. The two spend the rest of the night talking, about both everything and nothing, and every time Yuga feels his stomach churn, he thinks of Midoriya's kiss.

Every conversation feels like a rhythmic game. A dance. A pattern. Nod. Lie. Smile. Lie. Laugh. Lie.

But Yuga will learn to love lies. He has to. They've given him everything, and as long as he stays loyal to them, they won't soon take it away.

When morning comes, Midoriya falls asleep in his arms, exhausted from a night well spent. When the sun rises, it hits both of them as one entity, and Yuga could swear they were made of gold.