Chapter Text
The void was heavy, alive with tension as the past wielders of One for All debated. Their forms flickered in and out, faint echoes of their former selves, yet their voices were sharp and unmistakable. They were discussing the boy—Izuku Midoriya—and the path forward.
Nana Shimura, standing tall with her arms crossed, broke the silence first. “Let’s be clear. Izuku isn’t ready to handle multiple quirks right now. The kid can barely manage the strength of One for All as it is. If we overcomplicate things, he’s going to collapse under the weight.”
“I agree,” the Second User said, his voice like a blade cutting through the noise. His eyes were hard, unyielding. “The strength enhancement is the foundation of this power. It’s simple, reliable. The boy can keep growing stronger with it without losing himself to chaos. Right now, that’s what he needs most—stability.”
Hikage Shinomori nodded, his expression calm but firm. “He’s already struggling with the basics. Adding something volatile, like Blackwhip, is reckless. Strength is straightforward. It’s something he can build on. Why throw him into chaos when he’s not prepared?”
“Because the world isn’t waiting for him to be prepared!” Daigoro Banjo interjected, stepping forward. His voice was full of fire, his usual grin replaced by something more serious. “Have you all forgotten what we’re up against? All For One is still out there. He’s not going to give this kid the luxury of time. Izuku needs more than raw strength—he needs versatility, and he needs it now.”
Nana shot him a sharp look. “Versatility won’t mean anything if he can’t control it. You’re gambling with his future, Banjo. What happens if Blackwhip overtakes him? You know how wild that power can be.”
“I do,” Banjo said, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. “But I also know Midoriya. The kid’s got a good heart, Nana. He’s not like us—he’s better. If anyone can handle Blackwhip, it’s him.”
Yoichi, the First User, raised a hand, his voice calm but filled with quiet authority. “Banjo has a point. All For One isn’t just sitting in the shadows anymore. He’s making moves, pulling strings. Midoriya doesn’t just need power—he needs tools. Blackwhip can give him reach, options. It can make him unpredictable in a fight.”
“That unpredictability can also make him a liability,” the Second User said sharply. “If he loses control, it won’t matter how many options he has—he’ll just be another target for All For One to exploit.”
“Which is exactly why we give him both!” Banjo’s voice rose, frustration seeping through. “Not all of Blackwhip at once, not all of the strength enhancement, but enough of each to push him forward. Let him grow into both without drowning him.”
“That’s not how this works, Banjo,” Hikage said, his tone measured but stern. “We can’t just parcel out bits and pieces of power. It has to be deliberate, focused.”
Yoichi stepped forward, placing a hand on Banjo’s shoulder. “Maybe Banjo is onto something. Strength is important—it’s the backbone of One for All. But Midoriya is already showing us he’s more than just brute force. He thinks, he adapts. Giving him some of Blackwhip alongside the strength could push him to grow faster, to become the kind of hero who can outmaneuver All For One.”
The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of Yoichi’s words settling over them. Nana’s gaze softened, but her voice remained firm. “Even if we go with that, we have to make sure it’s controlled. All For One isn’t just powerful—he’s manipulative. He’ll exploit any weakness Midoriya shows, any crack in his resolve.”
“And that’s why we start slow,” Yoichi said. “We give him a taste of Blackwhip, just enough to show him its potential. But the strength enhancement remains his anchor. That way, if things go wrong, he still has a foundation to rely on.”
Kudo frowned, clearly reluctant, but he gave a curt nod. “If we’re doing this, then it has to be measured. No overwhelming the boy. He’s already carrying a burden none of us could have imagined.”
“Agreed,” Hikage said, his voice quiet but resolute. “We’ll need to monitor him closely. If Blackwhip becomes too much, we can step in.”
Banjo let out a breath, his grin returning faintly. “Finally, some sense. Trust me, Midoriya’s gonna surprise all of you. The kid’s got what it takes.”
Yoichi smiled gently, looking out into the void. “Let’s hope you’re right, Banjo. Because if we’re wrong… All For One won’t just destroy him. He’ll destroy everything.”
Kudo, whose sharp eyes had been focused on the group, suddenly stepped forward, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. His usual cold demeanor melted into something more volatile, something more desperate.
“No,” he spat, his voice rising in frustration. “This is madness. You think we’re just going to gamble with that boy’s life?”
The others turned to face him, startled by the intensity in his voice. His hands were shaking now, his usually rigid composure slipping away. “I don’t care what you say, Yoichi. I don’t care about All For One and how desperate we are. Midoriya doesn’t need to face this on his own. We all saw how unstable Blackwhip is with Banjo. I saw it with my own eyes when it was combined with the strength of One For All, and how difficult it was for him to master it.” He paused, breathing heavily, clearly fighting to keep his composure.
“Strength is the only thing we can trust,” he continued, his voice firm. “It’s predictable. It’s safe. This… this is just reckless.”
Banjo’s brows furrowed as he opened his mouth to argue, but the Second User held up a hand to stop him.
“I’m not saying I don’t understand the stakes. All For One is a threat, I get that more than anyone, but that’s exactly why we shouldn’t rush into this. Blackwhip isn’t just a quirk—it’s a monster waiting to break free. It’ll take Midoriya’s life away from him before he even knows what happened. He will be controlled by his darkest emotion and left to drowned”
“You’re being irrational,” Yoichi said gently, but Kudo was having none of it. His normally composed features were twisted in anger, his body trembling as the frustration finally spilled over.
“Every single user that didn't have a strength enhancing quirk never made it into their forties." He hissed, eyes dark. "They are boosted to a point that they are almost uncontrollable for people born with their quirk. And you want to give him, a teenage boy, a quirk that’s even more shot up and unpredictable than anything we’ve ever had to deal with?”
The room fell silent, and for a moment, it was as if the past wielders had all forgotten how to speak. Kudo's words hung in the air, raw and painful.
“I’ve seen what happens when people don’t take caution,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “I’ve seen what happens when we trust something that’s too powerful to control. It destroys everything.”
The weight of his words pressed down on the others. Nana, who had been the first to speak in favor of giving Midoriya the strength enhancement, now looked torn.
“I know you’re worried,” Nana said softly, her voice full of empathy. “But Midoriya isn’t us.”
Banjo took a step forward, but his usual confidence was tempered with a new seriousness. “You’re underestimating the kid. Izuku’s different. He’s not going to let the power break him.”
The Second User’s eyes snapped toward Banjo. “And you’re willing to put that on him? To risk it all on someone who hasn’t even learned to control the basics of his power?” His voice shook with raw emotion. “I’m telling you—it’ll destroy him. I don’t want to watch another person fall because of our decisions.”
The tension in the room was unbearable now, each of the past wielders caught between their fear for Midoriya’s safety and the urgency of the world they were facing. Yoichi stepped closer, his usual calm now tinged with a quiet sorrow. “None of us want that. But we can’t hide from the fact that this power is his inheritance. It’s meant to be passed on. If we don’t give him the tools to protect himself, we’re condemning him to a fate worse than death.”
“But we’re giving him a weapon he’s not ready for!” The Second User shouted, his voice breaking under the weight of his frustration. “You think All For One will wait for him to master this? You think he will care whether or not Izuku has control? He’ll use the boy’s weaknesses against him. He’ll exploit every flaw until he’s nothing but a broken tool in the hands of the villain who killed us all.”
Kudo was seething now, visibly struggling to hold himself together. His eyes were wild with fear, desperation, and something deeper—a guilt that weighed down on him, something only he knew.
“You have no idea how much I wish I could give him the strength and peace he needs,” the Second User said quietly, his voice soft but full of pain. “But I won’t stand by and watch another person die because we weren’t careful enough. Not again.”
For a moment, no one spoke. The past wielders were silent, each grappling with the weight of their choices. And then, Yoichi finally stepped forward, his voice steady but filled with an understanding born from decades of bearing responsibility.
“We’re not going to rush him into this. We’ll be careful. We’ll make sure Midoriya has a chance to grow into his power—all of his power, in time. But we cannot ignore the fact that the world needs him. And if we wait too long, we might lose him to the very darkness we’re trying to stop.”
The Second User trembled with anger, frustration, and fear, but his shoulders slumped. “I just don’t want to watch him fall. This could be our last opportunity to take down All For One.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Yoichi said softly. “I promise. But we have to give him a chance to rise.”
After a long, heavy silence, Kudo nodded, his body language still rigid, but the fire in his eyes had dimmed slightly. He looked away, unwilling to meet anyone’s gaze. It was clear that his struggle wasn’t over—not yet.
The room was quiet again, and the decision had been made, but the tension lingered, thick and unyielding.
"Midoriya Izuku," Yoichi whispered into the nothingness, "Control your heart, and conquer your fears. Let us give you the power you need to become strong."