Chapter Text
There was an unsettling familiarity to be had with the dark. A never-ending black wall which seemed to permeate the skin and sink into bones and dislodge a person from the reality they found themselves in. Alongside that horror, came the darkness that encroached across one's vision as breathing became shallow and harder; as blood poured between his fingers and the last of any remaining sight faded away into nothingness.
Even in this perpetual black, Yoichi knew where he was. It was an instinctual sensation, the concrete beneath his knees, the closed door that towered before him, the chill within his veins that he was never able to disperse. It was cloying, terrifying. The vault had that effect, disconnecting the prisoner inside from the world outside, trapping and sealing its contents away from the prying eyes of anyone but the jailor.
Yoichi knew that he needed to get out, though he couldn't make himself move. The thump of his heart and the drag of each breath seemed to fade out as something new reached his ears. A light echoing tap, almost unnoticeable against the hum of the silence Yoichi was entrenched in, though he continued to listen. Falling still as the noise became a rhythmic tap, which became footsteps, that only came closer and closer to the unseen door that Yoichi knew was right in front of him. If he could lift his hand, reach out, it would very quickly come into contact with cool metal.
The banging came next. Sharp strikes that rang throughout his body, echoed around the small room, though Yoichi couldn't make himself move. His body was screaming at him, he could feel it in the wash of frozen water that ran down his spine, how his hairs stood on end as the banging ceased in favour of a shred of light that cascaded from the gap between the door that had stayed locked for far too long, now so slowly swinging open.
A hand, reaching out to him. Just like… Before?
Yoichi's brow furrowed at the scene in front of him. So similar and yet, in some ways, nowhere near the same.
The hand that reached from the light, bridging its way into the darkness was smaller than before. The person, shrouded in the brightness of what Yoichi could now see was a hallway that stretched on past the threshold was nowhere near the stature of his original saviour.
The light was blinding, where he knew for certain the hall should be dark and dank, a damp smell permeating the air, irritating his lungs when the odour had managed to permeate into his room..
Yoichi blinked at the harshness, his frown not abating when he looked more closely at this new saviour, vibrant green eyes not unlike his own stared back, somehow visible in the vault's darkness, a crown of green hair backlit and basking in the hallways light.
Then, without warning, a light at the end of the expanse of the hallway blinked out. It was almost unnoticeable, the length of Yoichi's stretch to freedom reached out much further than it ever had before, yet he still noticed as a smidge of darkness appeared in the halls depths. It was barely anything to pay attention to, almost unobtrusive in its nature.
Yet it was more than obvious when another light blinked afterwards, this time with a small shower of sparks and the clink of glass as its fractured remnant hit against the floor, accompanied by the darkness.
Darkness that was now ever so slowly encroaching in.
Two more lights flickered out of existence, one after the other, and Yoichi realised that he needed to move. He needed to get up, reach out to the hand offered to him, all before the darkness reached the two of them.
Glass continued to shatter, the noise bouncing off the walls and reaching Yoichi in a way that was akin to the ticking of a clock. Another light went out. Some were anticlimactic, a small flicker before the darkness followed. Some loud, the glass breaking with a vengeance, sparks flashing to life before succumbing to the black that inevitably crept in afterwards.
Yoichi found himself staring at the hand, then at the far too young face of his new hero, gaze lingering there as if a name would surface from the fogged depths of his mind before he realised that he really needed to grab the hand offered to him. With every flash that ended in pitch black, he needed to move.
There was something screaming at him, the internal need to push forwards against everything pinning him within the vault and reach for help. He couldn't allow this darkness to make it to both of them, which meant he had to stand, he had to lift his hand as fast as possible; all the while the splintering of glass edged its way closer and closer in the hall, the dark only advancing, stealing away more of the light and even though Yoichi couldn't see the face of the rescuer, he could tell that with each sound of sparks and bulbs fracturing, concern grew on the silhouette more and more with each inactive second that crawled past.
Even with the resounding panic in his chest, Yoichi couldn't get his body to listen. His legs wouldn't move like he wanted, his feet were flat on the floor yet all but useless. At the least, he could get his bearings; knelt down on the floor in the centre of the vault, the chill of concrete breaking through his clothes and stinging his skin beneath. His lungs ached, his hands were tingling and near numb as they pushed against the floor but gained no traction. As if the floor was made of mud where any inch of movement just dug his body in further and further
Yoichi only wanted to grasp the hand before him. Even with the distance between the two of them, his fingertips almost brushed against the boy's in the doorway.
Yoichi could clearly see the light going out now, it wasn't just a flicker and a noise followed by a wave of darkness. The globe of the bulbs didn't just pop as he'd originally thought, they looked as though they were being strangled, the glass cracking beneath an outwards force and breaking inwards, shattered pieces hitting against the ground as this primordial dark moved to its next source of light.
Closer still.
Yoichi swallowed hard and forced himself to reach further, feet still pushing against the floor but to no avail, hand still inexplicably close to the others but at the same time, not close enough to make contact, to grab hold. Yoichi didn't know why taking hold of his person's hand would make a difference, the dark would still reach them, it was coming fast. The crackle of dying lights, the crunch of broken glass, the flash of sparks and yet Yoichi still reached out as his saviour didn't move an inch, but continued to evade his reach.
Until Yoichi risked a glance over the person's shoulder, and the hallway was drowned in darkness. A singular, pitiful light still lit up the area behind his saviour.
Yoichi's hand was simply grasping at thin air.
Then the glass began to web with small fractures.
" Please , don't-"
There was a small crack, then the glass shattered.
Darkness closed in.
Yoichi shot up in bed before his mind was even properly awake, one hand still attempting to reach up to a now absent palm before him, yet the movement only served to pull the sheet free from the bed he was now sat in.
It was a nightmare, Yoichi found himself letting out a shaky breath. He detangled his hands from the bedding and ran them through his hair in an attempt to shake the shadowed visage still burned into his eyes and the crackle and fading of the light.
That explained why it seemed like he was running pointlessly through molasses as the bulbs pinged out one by one.
Why he just couldn't seem to reach the hand that was offered out to help him.
Yoichi remained where he was for a moment longer, at least until he was sure that his heart rate was close enough back to normal, only then did spare a glance around the room he'd found himself in, and all it served to do was ratched up his pulse all over again. Plain white walls, the beep of machinery that he'd only just noticed, scratchy bedding against his skin, tubes dangling down from different places, an IV in the crook of his bandaged elbow; electrodes stuck against exposed areas of his chest, cold with the adhesive along with the uneasiness crawling up within him as his mind scrambled to make sense of what had happened.
Though his head was far too blank, his throat dry and the last dregs of the nightmare only served to heighten the budding panic within him.
The heart rate monitor at his side started beeping a little faster, though Yoichi paid no mind past the buzzing sensation that was taking over his head. If the machine hadn't alerted anyone to his heart rate during the nightmare he'd just experienced, he was fine enough to take his chances with a bit of panic.
Breathe, stay calm. Assess the situation.
He was on his own, in an infirmary, and one that he in no way recognised. Whilst there was a window to his side, showing an overcast sky with the threat of rain on the horizon, it still brought brightness to the room. The fluorescent lighting buzzed above, an empty chair beside his bed only served to increase the building panic.
The lack of memories and lack of recognition of his location didn't help at all, and the natural conclusion that if anyone was responsible for this, it was his brother.
His brother who… Who had been cradling him as the last of his vision had faded out. Who had held pressure to the wound in Yoichi's chest as warm blood trickled out between cold fingers.
He was in an infirmary .
Yoichi knew he had to leave before anyone came into the room to check on him. He had to take the opportunity that had been given to him and bolt before he was caught out, and thankfully that job was made easier for him. He wasn't fastened down to the bed, there was no cuff locking him to the handrail as he carefully manoeuvred himself off the hard mattress, wincing at the chill of the tile floor against bare feet as he went about detaching himself from the machines one by one with practiced ease until it came to the heart monitor, and Yoichi knew better than to remove the electrode tabs and risk it letting out a shriek as if his heart had stopped and not as if it had been removed manually from a very alive patient.
So he pulled the bed out from the wall carefully, and turned the monitor off at the plug, watching as the screen went blank. Now, Yoichi could properly free himself, tugging harshly at the clump of wires that dangled from the machine in order to ensure that each electrode was detached from his body, before he picked at the tape keeping the IV lodged in his elbow and pulled the needle out with a forcefully steady hand, dropping everything to the floor as he stepped silently over to the door to check whether it was open or that his brother had at least the wherewithal to lock it; if he had any intent of keeping his little brother where he wanted him.
Only for Yoichi to freeze in place with his hand on the handle as faint voices floated through from the other side of the doorway.
He sucked in a breath and held it, body going carefully still as he leaned closer to press his ear to the separating surface.
Yet another thoroughly unrecognisable thing, since Yoichi couldn't for the life of him place the voices he heard.
One was akin to an elderly woman, voice nasally and crackling, and Yoichi would have called it kind if he wasn't so sure of the danger of the situation he was currently in.
The other, a man's, was low enough that Yoichi struggled to parse out what was being said in their entirety.
Though what he could hear just made Yoichi want to leave even faster. Since it seemed as though All for One had found him a new doctor, which meant more tests, more check-ups, more overprotective and practically obsessive worrying-
The old woman spoke first, clearly answering a question that Yoichi had not been party to, her voice calm enough but with an edge of exasperation, "- I've already tried… No change."
The man replied, and Yoichi barely caught anything besides an annoying quiet but resigned, "... Sure?"
"Can't…" The woman started again, "Don't understand. His body…"
Yoichi sucked in a breath.
"The injuries… Sickness..?"
Had they already… Had they come and seen him when he was asleep? Had his brother already told them about his medical issues? Yoichi brought a hand up to cover his mouth as the murmured and indecipherable voices grew closer. For a brief moment, the voices grew louder as if they were just outside the infirmary doors and a mere few paces away from where Yoichi was standing, out of bed, not being tracked by the plethora of machines that he'd been messing with and turning off.
If they happened to walk in at that moment…
Yoichi swallowed hard and risked taking a step back away from the entrance. If the door opened, there was more of a chance of him being able to slip past these supposed doctors and make a run for it. He didn't want to be trapped near a wall, he didn't want to be within grabbing distance as the doors swung outwards.
Only, none of that happened. The voices continued past the door and proceeded to fade in volume as the owners moved further away.
Meaning that there was a hall outside the door, and those two people had gone left, Yoichi needed to go right
So he spared a couple seconds, as many as he was willing to risk as the voices faded away into oblivion, that was the moment where he jumped on the chance that had been provided to him; though Yoichi hadn't actually expected the handle of the door to give under his hold with a light click, and for it to easily open into the now thankfully barren hallway.
There was a short moment where he glanced both up and down the hall, checking for any guards that may have been posted at his room and when none were found, he took his chance and made a break for it.
It didn't take long for Yoichi to realise he recognised absolutely nothing about the location. It wasn't just the infirmary that was entirely foreign, the entire compound seemed to be as such.
It seemed to suit his brother's penchant for selecting buildings, places that were worn down and decrepit, where he was certain that there would be less of a chance that no normal person would think of checking for anything out of the ordinary. Therefore unceremoniously stumbling across All for One's plans. At least, if the slight dishevelled mess of the well-lit passage was anything to go by. Some of the windows to his left were smashed, some webbed with cracks and looked far too close to the end of their lives for Yoichi's comfort, and the rubble that littered the ground along with shards of glass that he found himself sidestepping but somehow still not entirely avoiding made the young prisoner at least wish that he'd thought to look for some shoes before making his great escape.
Maybe he'd subconsciously assumed that he wouldn't get far, that he would reach the end of the hall and push at the double doors that he could see there, only to come face to face with his…
Don't think like that, just keep moving.
Yoichi took in a heavy breath. He just needed to be calm and focused; he was free. He wasn't locked inside or chained down, he was up on his feet and moving and in most cases, that was a blessing where the villain known as All for One was involved.
That didn't stop Yoichi from looking back over his shoulder every so often, or pacing his steps in such a way that he was making fast enough distance but next to no noise even with the disaster that was covering the floor.
It didn't explain why he was wracking his brain for memories that weren't coming, though. Why he felt so unsteady on his feet, how on earth he had actually woken up, how he was even alive at that moment was more than a mystery.
It was terrifying, honestly.
One step forward.
Yoichi forced out a shuddering breath.
As long as he didn't stop, as long as he kept on moving then every moment he'd been blessed with was being used properly. Every second mattered, since a single one was all it took for everything to come crashing down.
His lack of memories didn't matter, the pain that permeated his body didn't matter, the only thing that did was getting to the doorway without being caught and making it outside in one piece.
Yoichi wouldn't go back to that vault.
Maybe that fear was why he held his breath as he pushed against the doorway, and that his heart was racing within his chest as he was met not by another hallway lined with broken windows or the towering form of his brother.
Yoichi was met by a breeze, a chill to his arms, and a cloudy grey sky.
There was still the screaming feeling of wrong below his skin, as if there was something that he was missing. Other than the memories, the location, the thorough lack of anything significant that filled the gaps in his mind; even after stepping from within the building and onto the concrete pathway into the outdoors, Yoichi was still unnerved.
Doubt would always be there, clawing at the back of his head. Yoichi could feel the uncertainty at that moment. It could have been a Meta-power, though there was nothing capable of imitating the level of reality that Yoichi was experiencing as he gazed over the carnage that rocked the outside world. In that moment, he realised that the inside of the compound was some form of façade, it must have been. The lack of a real mess, the way everything seemed organised even with all the disarray.
Almost as if the trek from the infirmary to outside was to ease him into what was to come. There was a massive trench pummeled directly down into the concrete and dirt before him, the edges of the hole scored and smooth as if the earth had been parted in less than a second. Then there were the people who were edging about the mounds of stones and heaved up gravel and other materials that looked close to the metal foundations of a building, the thick wiring used to reinforce housing distorted and exposed to the air with brickwork still clinging weakly onto its broken visage.
The crowd, fairly large by Yoichi's own standards, picked around the rubble that seemed to cover almost the entire outside area. Some people at least, seemed cheery and raring to go as they walked around and moved the mess into neater piles, trying to fashion some semblance of order from whatever horror had caused it in the first place. Yoichi found his gaze tracking the others though, the people that were much more closed off, still doing their own part to aid in the cleaning but remaining carefully focused on their task as if it was one of the few things that were keeping them on track and functioning properly.
What dragged Yoichi's attention to the amalgamate of calmness and melancholy, was the avid and open use of powers amongst the collection of people.
So it wasn't a power that shifted reality. It couldn't have been. No reality would be so easily open to the use of powers in a public format, especially if it was a creation of his brother intent on keeping him unassuming and unaware in a fake world. The acceptance of Meta powers, whilst dearly wanted, it would be a vast and stupid oversight on All for One's behalf to make such an outright and clear mistake.
So it must have been a power that messed with his memories, that was more plausible. It was the only thing that seemed at all probable, even though it seemed just as far-fetched as his first fearful doubt of not actually experiencing the real world.
Memory manipulation wasn't something Yoichi would put past his brother, either though. All for One's strive for control and the small variety of powers that were occuring over this first generation could have led to him coming across something to mess with the mind. Take some memories away, move things around, it was-
Yoichi just stared as a man in the group lifted his hand, watching as it glowed with a faded light and a rock, a heavy one at that, shot up off the floor and stuck resolutely to his palm as if there was not a single bit of weight to it.
Along with another, a girl, barely an adult who touched an extremely large and immovable piece of rubble and it began to drip, the rocky form becoming malleable. Then, as if it was made of water, it fell away between the pile beneath it as if it hadn't even been there in the first place.
This wasn't a reality bending power, because All for One would never create a fake world with impossible abilities. The few powers that Yoichi even knew of were wholly unremarkable. Entirely expected, what with the amount of comics he had read during his life. A girl who could fly had been on the news before, a boy who could download information from books into his head, someone who could freeze things with a single touch. They were all so simple, so predictable.
These powers, they were all so… Complex.
Another rock melted away under Yoichi's direct scrutiny, someone who looked uncannily like an extremely tall bipedal fox stood a short distance away, talking with a different group of people. One with hair made of wires and what looked to be a whole plethora of engineering tools spawning from her fingertips. There was a man pacing, clearly worried about something, dragging his hands through his hair as every single step he made caused a singular small daisy to grow where his shoe had fallen, spawning in seconds from the ground along with pushing up through cracks in the paving slabs.
Another man, he had fully yellow eyes, like a tiger eye gemstone was inlayed into his skull. A girl with a flame of deep red hair as if it had been colour picked directly from a cherry.
A child clapped their hands, and tiny balls of light spawned from each one.
There were so many powers.
Some on the surface seemed unremarkable, like Yoichi would expect from his brother's less than stellar imagination, others were so loud and in your face, bright and vibrant, catching so much of Yoichi's attention he wasn't even sure where to look since every direction provided something new and it was all towards relieving the small area of the disaster that had seemingly occured.
For a second, Yoichi didn't feel so out of place. Everything was so different, so unique that even with his white hair, it seemed like such a minor mutation in itself in comparison to what he was seeing with his own two eyes. Yoichi didn't stand out in this crowd, a sensation he always experienced whenever he was even vaguely out in public, where animosity and fear clouded everyone's gaze that he'd resorted to hiding his hair under a hood or remaining inside and away from a world that wasn't ready for anyone that happened to act or look even slightly different.
At that moment, Yoichi realised he wasn't experiencing awe. The racing of his heart, the tremor in his hands, the way his eyes were flicking about to people to wreckage to people and back again. How his palms were clammy and his breathing was coming out in incremental, stifled drags of air as if there wasn't enough in the atmosphere to keep him going.
There were people using their powers, outside, in front of everyone. He'd woken up in an infirmary-
Yoichi swivelled around in his place to stare back at the building he'd exited from, where the doors still hung open, a wide gaping maw inviting him back inside. His eyes floated up to the towering building, what looked like a wall of glass stretching up into the sky, a little worse for wear and imposing but clearly standing strong compared to the disaster zone of debris surrounding it.
What the hell was going on? If this wasn't his brother, and Yoichi hoped beyond all hope that it had nothing to do with that monster, then what was actually happening? Was it worse for this reality, impossible and unexplainable as it was, to not be related to the doings of All for One; or was the safety that came along with believing his brother was behind all this another horrible trick caused by some Meta-ability?
What's happening?
Yoichi stared back at the shell of some people walking about, then past that, the area he could see was enclosed by a large industrial looking wall that stretched up a short distance away, separating the liminal area from whatever horrors existed beyond the barrier.
Is this real?
Maybe all of this was still a dream, and that was the power his brother had chosen to keep him in check this time. No locked door and four walls to keep him company, now it was fake people and a fake world to trick him into complacency.
Yoichi rubbed at his eyes, wincing at the scratch of material that irritated his face until he spared a look down at his hands to see them wrapped carefully with a strip of bandages and gauze cushioned beneath.
Then he noticed the dried blood and dirt stuck beneath his nails, even though it was clear his hands had been wiped clean of anything else.
They still shook, the awareness of the apparent injuries brought with it small shoots of stinging and pain with each movement. An aspect that didn't stop Yoichi from moving towards the door from which the far too familiar hallway stretched out, onwards further back into the glass building, then slamming the metal shut with a resonating clang to shut the sight off from the rest of the world.
Yoichi hadn't realised his eyes had been screwed shut, listening for the door to click into place, until he stepped back and opened them.
Only for his attention to be snagged by his reflection in the shattered remains of a pane of glass just to the side of the now sealed doorway.
At the stark white of his hair, the entirely expected but clearly abnormal messiness of it. It was curled, poofed out, and his face…
Wasn't his own.
Yoichi stumbled back as his mind finally decided to catch up, air seizing in his throat as the puzzle pieces fell into place and displayed the atrocity of what must have been the previous day.
Yoichi hoped that it had only been a day. Even still, the face that looked back at him was free from any dirt and blood that Yoichi had honestly expected he would have been covered in. Fine powder from a building that had been wrecked enough to risk the collapse of its foundations, the bright red that accompanied the tang of iron that floated in the air from the numerous injuries, scrapes and bruises he must have had as a result of that last battle.
Yoichi was still in the grimey hero costume, though bits of it had clearly been cut away in favour of wrapping the different wounds he has sustained with bandages, each one tight and secure yet the fact he remained in the hero costume made him think that the medical attention was only partially finished, or the process of binding and treating his wounds had halted in favour of reassessing the situation.
One thing Yoichi knew for certain was that the hero costume he was in was ruined. Not taking into account where fabric scissors had been used against the reinforced material, but the other holes and burns and bloodstains left the material basically destroyed and nowhere close to the expected green it had once originally been.
It was unnerving, being so aware of his body. Even watching as the form in the reflection moved in tandem with Yoichi's own actions, as he twisted and turned in order to catalogue the injuries he remembered having along with the ones that had either gone amiss, or had developed over the past few hours. The shoulder injury was still there, thickly wrapped but throbbing along with the movement, his hands and the scored wounds across them pulled and Yoichi was fairly sure he'd reopened them at some point, if the growing sting was anything to go by, along with the slow spread of red he could see through the layers of gauze.
The scratch of the ruined clothing itself was infuriating, how the frayed edges rubbed uncomfortably against exposed skin, the unclean sensation from the bloodstains tinging the air with metal and the dried blood having stuck to his skin ages beforehand. He could feel the gravel under his feet too, alongside the slight pain that probably came alongside a few small cuts from the glass that had littered the hall.
The ground was cold, stones digging into his heel, the grass managing to break through the spaces between the paving brushing against his toes, Yoichi could feel so much yet he was so unequivocally aware that the body he was in was in no way his own.
A single glance at his reflection again was all the proof he needed as his chest tightened and skin crawled in a way nothing tangible could ever cause. It was wrong on so many levels beyond physical, even the hair on his head whilst white and entirely familiar to himself left the sickening sensation of an intruder guiding a puppet on its strings.
Yoichi felt so normal, which was probably the worse part. With all the thrumming pain and uncomfortableness, as Yoichi stepped closer to the window for a better look at his reflection, the boy in the glass came closer too.
As Yoichi lifted one bandaged and scarred hand, so did the reflection.
Green eyes stared and blinked, his chest rose and fell and his throat moved around a lump that had formed there.
Yoichi found that he couldn't look away, at the bruising that had darkened over his forehead where he'd been held in a far too tight grip, just like the sickeningly purple hand-shaped smear he had wrapping around his now exposed wrist, where All for One had grabbed and squeezed far too hard.
Yoichi had been in this body for less than a day, and he'd already wrecked it. Staring at the clear fingerprint bruises on his skin, the dark purples and blues that stood out against the recent paleness of his own complexion, he felt his stomach roll, his eyes water.
This was all his fault. Every new scrape and new shot of pain was because of him, Yoichi knew that. He was the one that was in control after all as he watched himself in the wrong body lift a shaking hand to card it through the tangled mess of foreign hair, "Midoriya…"
"Shigaraki-"
Yoichi found himself turning around in less than a second, body working on autopilot as his first clenched and swung in an arch towards the unseen assailant's face. He'd been so distracted that Yoichi hadn't even seen the other form join him in his reflection, but that didn't mean he was entirely useless when caught by surprise.
Only, any attack that was attempted was simply yanked down from its trajectory by a swathe of grey cloth that coiled and tightened around his wrist and hand, disrupting the punch in its entirety and leaving Yoichi stumbling with both surprise and a wince as the material tightened around the bruising there, though he quickly righted himself. He couldn't allow his focus to be knocked, he had to carry on, he had to keep fighting-
The man that stood before him had one hand held down at his side with the other end of the material secured in a tight grip, the right hand was clutching a cane that seemed to be taking most of his weight in almost an oxymoron to the strength and speed of the reaction displayed a few seconds prior. Though the reasoning became clear as a couple more precious seconds ticked by and Yoichi noticed the flash of metal in the gap between the man's right shoe and pant leg.
One thing Yoichi couldn't make sense of, was what looked like cat stickers that were interspersed over the black stick, though he thought better than to mention it.
Yoichi faltered, lungs dragging in air he hadn't even realised that he'd been parched for, a perpetual wince still present due to the ache that the pull on his arm and shoulder resulted in, aggravating the wounds that were very much still there.
There was a moment where Yoichi was sure that the man had caught the wince of pain, since the sudden hold on his arm fell away and the cloth loosened and detangled, getting swept back over the man's shoulder with a fluid and practiced movement.
One that looked so familiar.
Then he spoke, voice low, similar to the voice Yoichi had heard in the hallway earlier on, though this time the words were far more clear, and measurably calm, "Hey, kid, you're okay."
Yoichi's eyes widened, throat tightening as his own feet took him a step further backwards. The man didn't yet move, only kept his speech calm and controlled, "Deep breaths, just take a moment, okay?"
Then, Yoichi realised that this man was being careful because he was in fact breathing quickly. Air wasn't getting in and hyperventilation was threatening to take hold. Was this a result of remembering what had taken place? Of what Yoichi was responsible for and what Midoriya was a victim of.
Or had this budding panic attack resulted from staring at the reflection that wasn't his own, freckles that existed where they shouldn't have been, a boy who still had a bit of a baby-face even in his mid-teens, hair that was white and should have been green-
Yoichi was sure, if not for the person in front of him and the measured breaths he seemed to purposefully be taking to help guide Yoichi's own tortuous grabs for oxygen, he would have continued to spiral.
He couldn't prevent his eyes from floating back over to the group who were aiding in the disaster clean up, moving as if the sheer destruction was normal enough. As if there was no iron tang in the air, as if everything around Yoichi wasn't simply crashing down as he took in the scene with a brand new context.
With each moment that passed, Yoichi noticed something new. The floating bits of ash that were dotted through the air, how the carnage wasn't restricted to the one area but it stretched off further to either side, more and more people lending a hand to clear up after the disaster had taken effect.
There were deep browns and reds that stained the paving too, spreading out from beneath piles of rocks and collapsed buildings, as if… as if there had been people there, trapped beneath, unreachable by the entirely normal people who were working to remove the mess, unable to get free as they bled out due to injury and were trapped as they were left to slowly die-
This was my brother , the thought struck like lightning. The less scrambled his mind became, horrifying realisations started to slot back into place as a gore filled picture. Everything that had happened before, everything that that villain had done; everything that had happened.
All for One, his older brother, Shigaraki-
No. Everything that had happened, it was all because of- all because of me. He came here because of me, these people died alone and in pain because of me..!
"Kid-" the words forced their way through the panicked fog, and then- "Shigaraki-?"
"Don't!" Yoichi heard himself shout before the word had even registered in his mind, hands rising up to hold over his ears in an effort to at least try and block out the overload that seemed to be on the horizon.
Yoichi began to realise what he'd done a second later, he could feel the glass windows of the building at his back, the cold chill of the day through his clothing and his heartbeat racing in his chest. There were people watching now, attention drawn to his sudden outburst at the use of his own name-
They were all staring, trying to be subtle in their glances. Not looking away, not going back to their tasks.
There were too many people outside, too many people who's attention he'd grabbed. Someone would easily recognise him, who wouldn't? They'd alert the authorities, how many people in this time naturally had white hair? He stood out like a sore thumb, his brother had eyes and ears everywhere and it would only be a matter of time before-
"Don't…" Yoichi whispered as he forced his lungs to drag in as much air as possible, even if it was mere dregs. Focus, he was okay, he was safe. He was in the grounds of UA, he knew that. A hero school, with heroes-in-training at every corner, his brother was who knows where and this wasn't the same as in the past; the world was different, more accepting, better-
Not crawling with the monsters that called themselves followers of All for One.
"Okay," The man seemed to take a moment at least, adjusting his stance as he leaned on his cane but kept his other hand out flat as if to clearly display the lack of threat, a single, uncovered, bagged eye only faced forwards and paid no mind to the plethora of stares aimed at his back and towards where Yoichi was standing. "Alright. Just breathe, there we go," the gruff and exhaustion ridden voice acted almost like a balm, carefully measured and slow, each word clear as Yoichi made attempt after attempt to keep breathing and lessen the fog that had wrapped tightly around his brain.
"You need to stop disappearing."
Normal conversation, Yoichi could do normal. Anything to help distract his mind that bit more. He wasn't with his brother. His brother was absent, he had escaped, and Yoichi was left to pick up the pieces of his desolation
He was at UA, he was in Midoriya Izuku's body, and he wasn't anywhere close to All for One. He was standing in front of someone who he felt he recognised, at least on some level. Though the eye patch and the scar that was carved out beneath threw him off just slightly.
This was Midoriya's teacher, the one that could cancel Quirks, the one who had fought Tomura no matter how many injuries he seemed to continually sustain. Who had gotten up again and again and kept on fighting.
The man paused, as if assessing the current state of the situation, before continuing his previous thought, "Toshinori was… surprised you weren't in the infirmary when he went to check on you."
"Yoichi." First name, he preferred that. Anything to separate him more from All for One.
The hero's brow furrowed just briefly, before it disappeared in quiet understanding, "Yoichi." He repeated slowly, before gesturing to himself, "Aizawa Shouta."
"I remember you." Yoichi said, before faltering and retracing, "Or at least, I know you're familiar." He was fully aware who Toshinori was, thankfully, and the way Aizawa had worded himself regarding the reaction of his Eighth seemed closer to an understatement. Yoichi blew out a small but measured breath, head clearing more and more with each passing second, though he was still hyper aware of the few people who were still looking in their direction. He just needed to ignore them and keep his attention on the conversation. "You don't seem shocked that I'm…" Yoichi gave a large motion to himself, "You know-"
"Not my student? I was filled in." Aizawa said plainly. "And it's fairly obvious, anyone with eyes can tell you're not Midoriya."
Yoichi's attention flickered up to the eyepatch for a second, clearing his throat, "That's good, I guess." He said, moving from foot to foot as the cold finally began to permeate into his skin now that the fuzz of anxiety was slowly fading into the background, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as a stray breeze managed to slink its way in through the holes in his clothing.
Aizawa didn't miss the movement, the shudder in the cold, though he didn't address it other than to turn and walk back towards the building and to the doorway Yoichi had exited out only minutes before, "You'll catch a cold." He said, pushing the doorway back open and stepping inside first, only then Yoichi realised he was expected to follow, "Let's get you some better clothes now that you're awake. Something that isn't covered in blood."
Which led Yoichi back to where he'd started, standing in the infirmary, but with a much better understanding of the situation that he'd woken up to. There was still the underlying anxiety of being in a situation he neither had control over or could actively reverse by himself, but that wasn't something he could entirely fix. Meaning he was stuck, both overall in a scenario of his brothers making, controlling a body that wasn't his own.
But also he was in the infirmary, the door wasn't locked, but he was trapped listening to a lecture from an elderly lady who Yoichi had been passively introduced to as Recovery Girl by Aizawa who had taken his leave to pick up some spare clothing alongside checking on how his 'hell class' was faring due to their lack of apparent supervision.
Yoichi just allowed himself to zone out even as Recovery Girl started unwrapping the different bandages dotted around his body, though he did wince when the scored mark across his right hand was carefully wiped down.
Other than that, he let his mind float, sitting on the edge of the bed as the woman walked about pulling butterfly stitches from one draw and a roll of gauze from another. All the while being lectured on how he shouldn't go running off without telling anyone he was leaving.
As if he'd been in the frame of mind to find the people whom he thought were holding him prisoner and telling them he was about to make tracks.
Recovery Girl harshly tapped him on his knee with her cane when she suddenly appeared before him, with his other hand in her grasp, and only then did Yoichi properly clock back onto the words she was now saying.
He'd already been reprimanded for disconnecting all the machines without supervision, though now, as Recovery Girl wrapped and secured a tighter and neater bandage around his left hand, she also gestured to the pulse monitor clipped onto his index finger, flashing intermittently.
"You see this? Don't take it off. You kids these days and thinking it's like the movies and removing medical equipment is fine, they're easy to break." The woman grumbled, though Yoichi just found himself smiling. Even if he was in trouble.
"Yes, Ma'am."
There was a huff, and Yoichi was certain he saw a small smile grace the elderly hero's face, then he gained another knock to his knee, "And don't get snarky with me, boy."
Then she hobbled to the other side of the room and started putting the spare bandages away, along with a large pair of clothing scissors, "I'll be back to take further vitals in a little while. Lots of other people to treat, not enough hours in the day."
She'd had to cut even more into the hero costume, now he was lacking the entire sleeve on the right side and then more in order for a suitable cover to be wrapped around the hole that went through his shoulder; thankfully, the joint was undamaged, but a hole was still a hole.
Blood was still blood.
The red tinted once-green scraps of fabric that littered the floor were almost a display of everything he himself, and Midoriya, had experienced the day prior.
"So keep that monitor on until then. If you mess up my readings-"
Yoichi kept his attention on her, legs dangling over the side of one of the many other beds in the room, though his was the only one that was occupied. No prying eyes, maybe that was purposeful? "I'll tell someone if I need it removed, Recovery Girl."
"You won't need it removed, not until I come back and do it myself. Keep it on your finger."
Yoichi's attention was pulled from the talk when there was a knock on the room's door and Aizawa emerged, a bundle of clothes under one arm which were passively tossed over in Yoichi's direction, though at least the man was merciful and placed what looked to be a pair of slippers at the end of the bed as opposed to also throwing them.
Yoichi did catch the shirt, but the pants fell into a bundle on the ground. He slipped off the bed and bent down against aching joints to retrieve the clothing, eyes catching the bloodied mess of armoured red shoes half way discarded and hidden under the bed, though Yoichi paid them no mind as he lifted the clothes in question, "Whose are these?"
"Gym pants, courtesy of UA, a trash bag for the hero costume; and a shirt of Midoriya's that he'd left in the wash."
"Oh."
Aizawa nodded once, as if the idea of Yoichi wearing Midoriya's clothes were normal. Though clothes were clothes, and there wasn't much else to really think about, Yoichi was probably the only one really hung up on the overall situation.
It was just a shirt. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa."
"It's no problem, kid. We'll leave you to change, and I'll have Lunch Rush bring you some food around soon. I have something I need to check on before then," the top of the black cane was being used to hold the door open, marking this drop in as a shorter visit. Recovery Girl was always making her way out too, dipping beneath Aizawa's arm to leave the room.
Yoichi nodded, as if he knew who that person was, hands passively bundling up the clothing in his hands.
Aizawa spared another look in his direction, offering a short nod, "Have some rest, problem child. Opportunities for it are few and far between." he said, the man's own exhaustion lacing his voice before he took his own leave from the infirmary too.
Leaving Yoichi on his own in the large room, injuries freshly wrapped, and not entirely sure what to do with himself.