Chapter Text
When the vestiges offered to train him, of course Izuku accepted. Sure, he had private training with All Might on top of classes (and UA classes were no joke). He also trained independently and with several of his classmates, but it was fine.
He could handle it. These were the previous holders of One for All after all; how could he possibly turn down a chance to train with such amazing heroes?
Everything was going well for the first few weeks. Izuku was managing, and he was finally starting to get blackwhip under control with Banjo’s help. Sure, he was tired, but it was also a relief to get a handle on these extra quirks. He’d been practicing with danger sense too and smokescreen, although he had to be careful since Aizawa didn’t want him practicing the new quirks without him.
But the vestiges assured him it was fine. They were looking out for him, and he couldn’t afford to lose any time with All for One after him.
His classmates noticed his improvements too. Nana had been teaching him new hand-to-hand moves, a lot of them sneakier and dirtier than UA’s typical MO. Izuku had hesitated at first, not sure if they were really heroic, but when Nana had sat him down and explained that villains weren’t going to fight fair, and above all he needed to stay alive, he agreed. It might not feel great, but he understood the logic.
Still, he cringed at the disapproval on Ojiro’s face when Izuku used his new knowledge in their spar. His guilt eased though at Aizawa’s approving nod. The underground hero wasn’t shy about the use of tactics, so-called “dirty” or otherwise, and had tried to convince his fellow teachers to incorporate them earlier in the curriculum. Unfortunately, most of the hero students were attempting to be limelight heroes and the other teachers were concerned about the effect on their public image should the young heroes be spotted using such tricks.
Aizawa just wanted them to stay alive.
Izuku had taken to crashing early in the night (there were many jokes about Izuku adopting Katsuki’s 8 pm bedtime). Sometimes he actually fell asleep. Sometimes the vestiges used this time to train. Nana’s hand-to-hand lessons had been odd. It was like the vestiges had pulled him into his mind to where they could interact with him. He was only slightly aware of his body when this happened. Even more odd, he could feel the effects of the spars afterward, as if the blows were actually being received in real life.
Tonight though, the vestiges were whispering harshly to one another as he settled himself cross-legged on the floor, half-meditative as he waited for them to pull him into their landscape. He caught whispers
Too soon—
—not ready
—he’s just a kid
“What’s going on?” he murmured.
The whispers stopped.
He felt the distinct pull of being dragged into his own mind and didn’t fight it. The vestiges slowly appeared before him. Nana was frowning but looked more contemplative than angry. Banjo definitely looked angry, but that was his natural state. Shinomori was hiding in a corner as usual, En not far away. Yoichi (Izuku couldn’t bring himself to call the man Shigaraki) looked sad, frustrated, and extremely uncomfortable while Two and Three were glaring down everyone else in the room.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, having mostly materialized.
The dark, smoky hall where the vestiges seemed most often to occupy was silent, everyone glaring.
The second user scoffed before turning angry eyes on Izuku. “You need to get stronger,” he said bluntly. “This school is coddling you. All for One isn’t going to play to this high and mighty hero society’s rules, and neither can you.”
Izuku frowned. “I mean, we’ve been working so that I can get stronger. It’s not like I can break the law though?”
Second laughed, a harsh, mean sound. “You mean like your little murder buddy did? Oh, sorry, attempted murder. Or any of the times you used your quirk without permission because this fucking hero society decided people needed permission to use their own quirks?”
Izuku clenched his jaw at the mention of Iida’s incident with Stain. “Look—”
“We’re getting off track,” Third interrupted. “We’ve been talking and we’ve decided that we need to accelerate your training. We need to talk about what to do if AFO gets ahold of you.”
Izuku frowned, argument derailed. “What do you mean? If I confront AFO I’ll fight him. That’s what I’ve been training for.”
“This is why Eight should have never given the quirk to a child,” Second sneered. “What do you suppose you’ll do, Nine, if you don’t somehow manage to defeat our greatest enemy the first time you battle him? What do you plan to do if you get captured, if he captures one of your little friends, if he tortures you? Are you just going to hand him OFA because you don’t have the training and fortitude to resist?”
Izuku paled. “I—I would fight, of course I wouldn’t give him OFA. I would never—”
Third got in his face. “Oh you would never? Tell me, what anti-interrogation techniques do you plan on implementing to back that up? How do you plan to hold onto your sanity when he. starts. cutting. off. body parts?
“I’ve seen it before,” he continued, breath hot in Izuku’s face. “I’ve seen the way a man will snap—”
“Enough!” Banjo yelled, forcing himself between the two. “There is no way you are training a fifteen-year-old how to withstand torture. It’s too soon—he’s too young!”
Izuku blinked rapidly behind the older man’s back. Did—did he really need to learn that? Was he naïve to assume it wouldn’t come to this? He knew that enhanced interrogation was an issue heroes faced, that it was something the 3rd years would learn about. His instinctual resistance died a little at the thought. If they’re doing it, surely it is necessary? If UA approves…The 3rd years were only a couple years older than him, and they didn’t have AFO to worry about.
He slowly realized the argument was still happening. Of all the vestiges, Banjo and Yoichi seemed the only ones completely against the idea. Second and Third were adamant, Nana seemed on the fence and advising moderation, and En and Shinomori hadn’t said a word.
“I—I wouldn’t stand a chance if AFO got a hold of me,” he said, the realization hitting him as the words left his mouth. “Would I?”
Nana smiled sadly at him. “No, honey. Not as you are now.”
Banjo practically vibrated beside him. “Kid—”
“I’ll do it.” He spit the words out before he had a chance to change his mind. “Whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”
Second cracked a wide, unhinged grin. “Let’s get started then.”