Work Text:
All for one hadn’t put him in a tube yet, but the cage was close enough.
It was barely big enough to house a large dog, let alone a human. It was cold and cramped and fixed to the floor. No amount of shaking from Izuku moved the cage at all. His hands were covered in large slabs of metal and attached to the top of the bars, and there was hardly enough slack for them to rest on the top of his bent knees let alone enough to allow him to try and untwist the bolts with his teeth.
It was just another thing All for One did to him to humiliate him, putting him in a cage small enough for a dog, give him a water feeder, and have Uncle Yoichi feed him because his hands were covered in round slabs of metal that barely allowed any movement. The cage was just small enough that he could cross his legs in front of him. But then that meant his hands would hang in front of his face and irritate the small wounds under the metal.
Idly he listened to the grumbling of his stomach, his knees were tight against his chest so he could pretend he had enough space that he could curl up. The cramping hunger was back, as well as the dry scratchiness in the back of his throat, groaning he lay his forehead on the cool metal cuffs and pondered on why he hadn’t seen his uncle in a couple of days, the water feeder – typically seen in rabbit hutches, was running low.
Yoichi had also warned him against hunger strikes before, and Izuku did not want to be force fed again, especially after last time.
The worst thing, if he ignored everything else and just focused on one thing, was the full furnished of the room outside of the cage. There was a desk, a full bed with a heavy comforter and thick blankets and piles of pillows. A large book case filling a whole wall full of comic books, notebooks and any genre Izuku could imagine. A vastly different room to the one that he had been living before he was put in the cage. It had been well over a week coming up to the second, by Izuku’s calculation.
Which made it weirder that Yoichi suddenly stopped coming in, and as the one who was giving him food for his megalomaniac father – it was strange that he wasn’t being fed.
Uncle Yoichi had been reading a different book to him daily, lounging on the comfortable bed and plush desk chair. His own room still furnished most sparsely. To entertain him, possibly through feelings of guilt – he hated coming out of his room.
Even All for One had come in and sat on the bed, content on watching Izuku through the bar’s as he sat hunched over in his cage. His presence often sent Yoichi’s away, a storm of anger and fear. Izuku had seen how tired he had gotten of fighting All for One in all these years.
Izuku didn’t fully blame Yoichi for telling All for One, the years of his own imprisonment and paranoia Izuku could understand. His uncle was not the quietly strong hero Izuku remembered from the memories of his quirk.
The strength had shifted into something else. Izuku wasn’t sure what it was other than hidden loathing and fear.
He knew this was a punishment for him and a reward for Yoichi. Knew his uncle hated this as much as he did. Had been through the same thing, alone with his father’s affection for decades.
Everyone he loved had died, everyone he cared for was torn apart by the man who now cared for him.
Izuku wasn’t trying to do a food strike, he just didn’t feel like eating that day. He tried to explain that, tried to speak to a brick wall would have given more reaction. Both brothers stuck in their own heads and the past.
Izuku still had people he cared about, still had people he needed to save. He would never try to die before he was sure they were safe – not after what he saw. Izuku supposes he’s in the phase Yoichi was in when he was first in the vault – looking at him now Izuku would rather not think about what that might mean for him in the future. His friends, his mentors, everyone he cared about being on the opposing side.
They do say history is like a circle. Drawn to the beach in patterns of similarities. All for One liked to remark on it as the evidence of humanities short-sightedness.
Izuku liked to think, perhaps too optimistically, that it showed humanity trying to do its best, and that there would always be a villain to hinder progress. There would always be an All for One, but now he had the wisdom to not give Izuku a quirk.
Izuku didn’t want to do a hunger strike, there was nothing to do in the Vault anyway. Eating was the only time of day where something happened. The delicious food was the best part of the day, especially because All for One didn’t join them, ever. With Yoichi not being able to stomach eating around him, he would never come. Once or twice, he had taken Izuku out of the vault for a meal between the two, but All for One hated the silence between them. Not content with just speaking, he wanted Izuku’s engagement too. It was just another way he was trying to force false normality onto Izuku and Yoichi while keeping them prisoner as the worst supervillain the world had seen. The time between the meals had grown longer and longer.
That day Izuku just wanted to sleep, All for One showed him, as some form of bonding moment, the Nomu he was building from some of his classmates remains. Izuku could even tell it wasn’t some weird threat, hanging over his head, to show him what might happen if he disobeyed. The man had wanted to bond with Izuku and thought showing him the sewed up remains of his friends would do it.
Had kissed his head and whispered it wasn’t Izuku’s fault, sparing a moment after the tear filled glare to clarify it wasn’t his either. That he would know soon enough why they had to die, who they were reminders for.
Izuku could hear his man moaned from the Nomu’s lips when his memory stopped. Slipped away, coming back when he was in the vault the next morning, breakfast on the table in front of him. The smell of cooked eggs turning his stomach viciously. Yoichi watched from the doorway. He watched him the whole day – it wasn’t strange they found solace in each other’s company, his white eyes tracking how Izuku had not a bite to eat.
Still the pink tinged skin and exhaust pipes coming from its legs chased him into his nightmares. With bile in his mouth, he didn’t sleep a wink, still could barely sleep. Made worse by the fact he couldn’t properly stretch out; with the softest bed he has ever seen in his eyesight. He hadn’t felt like eating, not after seeing his friends as Nomu’s.
Yoichi had tried to coax him into eating with him, a desperate air to his actions – like he didn’t want the consequences of him not eating to fall to him. The next day it had been worse, nightmares had plagued his dreams, of all his friends as Nomu. His mother, Kacchan, Shouto. In his dreams he was chased relentlessly by a Nomu who resembled all the teachers at UA.
He refused to leave Yoichi’s side apart for meals where he locked himself in the toilet, holding vomit down. The cry of his name from the Nomu that was once his friends echoing around the room.
Izuku had fallen asleep sharing the mattress with Yoichi and had woken up in the cage.
Had watched the room be built around him.
The large bed, the built in book shelves. His father was the one who carefully places the pillows and blankets on the bed, the one who selected with notebook went where, which comic books would go on the shelf.
Then the tall man stood in front of him.
His father stood with a long tube dangled deceptively lightly in his grip. A plate of food floated by his side, a blue ringed tentacle holding it up and asked if he wanted to eat.
His eyes were hard. Unflinching. Not the eyes of the man who desperately wanted to have a family, who wanted his son to love him. These eyes were the man who broke the two people his brother loved, who sewed children together to punish people. Who threw his family into a vault as the only form of protection he knew.
Izuku decided he could stomach a few bites, and his father – with a satisfied look in his eyes nodded and left having fed him most of the plate, he didn’t force the rest of it onto him. Izuku wondered when the man would be expecting sainthood. Telling him he would spend 2 weeks in the cage for scaring All for One, and for scaring Yoichi.
Izuku didn’t have to ask, he saw how Yoichi had been staring at the feeding tube in All for One’s hands.
Like that the villain had gone, replaced once more by the father. Even if the father was a mask over the villain. Being left in a cage was proof enough of that.
It would be the next offense that would land him in the tube, All for One had the grace to give him opportunities to earn back his trust, and he walked out. Yoichi standing by the door, rushing forward when he left.
There was an air of desperation to him, again, that Izuku noticed. Poorly hidden fear.
I am sorry, Izuku. You cannot, cannot let him do that. Ever, please. Never let him think you are going on a hunger strike.
Izuku nodded, the warmth from their shared quirk buzzing in the back of his mind cooling in the face of his uncle’s fear. Izuku knew this kind of emotion only sprung from one source, All for One.
I wasn’t going on a hunger strike, but I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you. I already know what it’s like.
“Can you read me something, I don’t think I can just sit here with my thoughts? He, he showed me something I really didn’t want to see.” Izuku asked.
He turned two of my friends into Nomu, he thought showing them to me would be a bonding moment. Please. I just want a distraction, you own me that much.
The because you stuck me in here was unspoken but heard. Yoichi, despite the guilt trip, would have done it anyway.
Izuku’s head thumped against the back of the cage, he hoped he had been keeping count properly and that the two weeks had nearly finished. There was only so much motion he could give his legs in the cage, and he could see the muscles dying before him. There were only so many times he could listen to Yoichi read the same comic.
He wanted to write something, to analyse a quirk. Something.
If there was any hope of using One for All to escape, it was dwindling faster and faster. Even if he could have escaped the vault with the collar gone, he was now even more of a sitting duck. The many tales of the escapes of Uncle Yoichi had told him that.
The radio silence from Yoichi for the last couple of days was driving fear deeper and deeper into his heart. He had been slower the last time he saw him, as if he was wading through water. Blinking every few moments when reading.
Uncle Yoichi are you ok? Are you sick again?
The silence was staying, very loud in his mindscape. It reminded Izuku of that first week when he had entered the vault. After his escape attempt, he hadn’t been able to leave his room while Yoichi was ill, especially not after trying to leave. There had been a lot of silences that week.
He had probably gotten ill again, Izuku could only hope it was that, it had been too quiet for anything else. The drugs that he had to take when ill quieted Yoichi’s mind in the quirk. It was just mind numbingly boring, to sit there. Alone with his thoughts. Not even the room to exercise.
The flash of pink skin and bloodied exhaust pipes did not leave him alone. A constant companion. The cold wind blowing through trees was the sound he used to imagine when alone, now all he could hear was Mina’s pained whisper of his name. Howling like the greatest of storms through his head.
It was probably getting late, Izuku thought as his mind grew heavy. There had been a sudden shift in the air, as he sat and stared at the bright colours of the comic books. All for One liked to keep Izuku on certain sleeping patterns, even when still in the cage, and if he saw he was awake after the time when he should have been sleeping, a scentless colourless gas was released. The quite whooshing sound of the releasing cannisters was the only thing rocking him to sleep. The bright lights that never dimmed flickering in the pattern he never could pick up.
He woke suddenly groggy like every morning he had woken in the cage, his back against hard metal bars. Leaning forward, his hands resting on his knees and his head resting on the chains his eyes slipped shut again when a shuffle of shoes coming from the front room jolted him to wakefulness.
Clanking the chain as he moved suddenly, a moment to prepare himself to move, as his wide eyes took the door in. Stilling his hands to hear above the clicking metal.
There it was again, the light sound of shoes.
Shoes, Yoichi wore slippers only – they didn’t have any shoes that would fit either their feet in the bunker, all the shoes were too narrow. Shoes that didn’t tap as they walked, but the thump of a rubber sole was enough of a strange sound to alert him.
Not Yoichi, not his father.
If Aizawa taught him anything it was to document any strangeness in an environment, because that would be where the information came from. Someone new was coming into the vault. He had not seen anyone but family for months, had not heard another voice.
Ignore the drifting sound of the cry, it wasn’t Mina and Tenya, not anymore.
There were quiet voices too, a low murmur between two people bickering back and forth. They were getting louder but seemed to stop outside his door. Still bickering, and still out of earshot.
Izuku could just about hear the cadence of both of them, chains clinking over the noise as he adjusted to be slightly closer to them. He didn’t want to turn his back to the door if he could help it, even if it put him closer to the people. The position he had at the back of the cage was a good one to use his legs to attack from. No matter if he could barely feel them.
Straining he could pin point a lower voice, and a higher one. Masculine and feminine. Even then they sounded still quite pitchy, young. As if they hadn’t fully grown into their voices yet.
The door knob rattled, sending him back against the bars, his legs needed to be ready. It would be harder for them to pull him out. Even then it still wouldn’t be too hard. The unfamiliarity in this situation left him feeling far too vulnerable, too open. Yoichi wouldn’t touch him without his permission, All for One was his father so wouldn’t hurt him. What would these people do to him, why was it now that they were let in?
Izuku liked to ignore the burning warmth when he would brush his hand through his hair, the memory of the soft touches from his youth now too far for him to understand why they still felt nice. Sometime Izuku couldn’t see the villain behind the mask, and it scared him more than the villain himself did.
The creaking door opened fully, the silhouettes of the two figures filling the door way. Their familiarity making him far more vulnerable. Was this some kind of sick joke from All for One? Did he now mean to try and control another way, saw how badly killing Yoichi’s friends changed him and decided to use his own.
The image of pink skin and bloody exhaust pipes burned on the back of his eyelids, and he tried to blink tears away.
The pressure on his heart at seeing Ochako and Kirishima again burned his eyes. They stood at the open door not setting foot into the room, as if there were some sort of barrier in front of them.
“Hello Deku,” Ochako said slowly. Were they here to get him out? Were they here to save him? “It’s nice to see you again.”
Kirishima shot her a look and stepped into the room before her, blocking her off from him, shoulder checking her out of the way. Their faced were too blank. They gave him nothing, why were they looking so blank. Kirishima’s eyes were like the rocks of his quirk. This wasn’t the Kirishima he knew. “We aren’t allowed to call him that. Izuku, hi, I bet your hungry. Your father asked us to give this too you. He said he was sorry he couldn’t visit, your uncle is sick.”
“What are you doing here? Why did he send you here? Is everyone else ok, can I see everyone else?” Izuku began pleading. “It’s good to see you again, too. How are you, did he hurt you?”
“We came to give you food, D-Izu. That’s why your father sent us here.” She paused, eyes flashing to Kirishima as she followed him in, they stood in front of the cage. This wasn’t the Ochako he knew either, she wouldn’t have let him sit in a cage. She wouldn’t have been scared of Kirishima or let him take the lead. “He told us we weren’t allowed to tell you about the other, especially not after your reaction to Tenya and Ashido.”
Izuku narrowed his tear filled eyes at Ochako, she was being too calm. Kirishima was looking closely at her, at him too. His hand lightly held her arm, a warning to not get too close.
“Thank you for the concern Izuku, as you can see, we are fine. There is no need to overreact, just calm down.”
This was wrong, this whole situation was wrong. “How can you say that so casually,” the tears he had been building started falling, unstoppable, “how can you – you loved Tenya. You loved him and this is how you react? Kirishima! You too! What the fuck is happening!”
Their faces didn’t move, but the hand on Ochako’s arm did twitch tighter for a few moments before releasing.
“What happened to Mina and Iida was a tragedy, yes. It was our faults for getting too close. We ignored our objective and had to be punished. Izuku, do you want some food, your father wants you to eat, and I know you haven’t eaten for a few days.”
Kirishima held out a plate of what smelled of Katsudon, it smelled too spicy and with the parsley left on the top of it, the garnish only Katsuki really knew Izuku liked with all his food. This was just an elaborate threat wasn’t it? Or was it a reward, he had done nothing in the cage, so maybe he was allowed to know Kacchan was here and alive.
“Kacchan’s here too? Please, please, stop joking. Kirishima please, Ochako please.”
“Come on Izu, we’re getting you out and then you can eat on your own. You want that don’t you, you want to eat on your own and not get force fed right, because we’ve been given permission to do that.” The snap of the lock and the gentle pull at his bound hands led him out the cage.
Kirishima pulled him out, “We aren’t allowed to talk about our classmates. Drop. It. Now, are you going to behave, or do we have to put you back in the cage?”
His legs at once failed him as Kirishima pulled him against his chest, the red head had his arms under his arm pits, supportive and strong. Izuku didn’t think it was his weak legs that buckled his knees, a trickling evil thought occurred to him, and he fell into five finger palm. This was strangely reminiscent of his capture, even in the vicinity to his friends.
Straightening up, Kirishima carried his weightless body over to the desk where he was released and sat looking up at his two friends faces.
“I don’t understand. I don’t understand, please. Just stop.” Kirishima turned to Ochako who was gripping the feeding tube tightly, his palm out. Jolting, Izuku nodded to the desk, his hands reaching to the chopsticks even with the metal gloves on. “I’ll eat, I’ll eat. Just what do you mean it’s your fault, it’s not your fault, you didn’t do that to them, the only person whose fault it is All for One’s. He did that to them, he killed them and ripped them apart. And now you’re going around talking bullshit. He’s a manipulative villain, it’s obviously not your fault, please just explain something. “He faltered at their expressions, matching in a small twitch of anger.
His capture again, flew through his mind. It was just him and Kacchan, on a mission. Their closest friends were the only ones who knew about it.
“Oh” he said quietly, sinking deeper into the cage, “It’s you. You were the traitors.”
Ochako gave him a sad smile. Hand on his head, weaving through his hair. Following the movements as he dropped down to look at his lap.
Sobs, heaving out of his lungs. They had been lied too.
“Eat, Izuku. I’ll send my compliments to your chef.”
Fisting her hand into his hair she pulled it up to look directly into his eyes, her own had narrowed into small angry pinpricks. “And if you ever speak about your father that way again, I’ll make sure you watch as he picks out Bakugou’s other eye. He is incredible and he will save the world.”
Kirishima stood menacingly in the back ground, Izuku wanted to ask about Kacchan again. About their class mates again. But his eyes were so cold. A look like nothing he had ever seen on that face before. How could they have been fooled so greatly.
Taking his hands, she slipped the covering hands cuffs off – his fingers looked wrinkled and pale, and she placed the two chopsticks Kirishima was holding into them, walking out of the door afterwards.
Kirishima stood for a few seconds, gesturing to the food. Moving only when Izuku to a bite. Ochako said nothing as she left, didn’t even look at him again. Kirishima watched him for a few moments more after moving to the door.
“We did what we had to, to serve All for One.” A small flash of something Izuku recognised in the old Kirishima softened his features. “Katsuki’s fine, All for One won’t hurt him much. He doesn’t want what happened to Yoichi to happen to you. I’ll make sure he’s ok. See you later, Izuku.”
“Call me Midoriya.” He said, as the door closed.
They left the open cage in his room.