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Izuku ran into a wall, hard. He stood there for a second, blinking. He couldn’t see anything. For a moment he wondered if he’d somehow broken his eyes with the impact. Then he remembered the countless concussions he’d had in high school, and he decided that was unlikely. Concussions didn't work like that. It was probably just dark.
In his right hand, he was holding something hard and rounded. His other arm was braced against the wall, and he could feel the texture on the side of his fist. It was cool and soft, like the ground in the morning. He reached forward, feeling along it, until his fingertips came to something hard. It seemed like there was a wooden support beam extending vertically.
Izuku couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here.
He felt his pockets, found his phone and pulled it out. It had plenty of battery, but no service. The date was today’s date.
Satisfied so far, Izuku turned on the phone flashlight. He was holding the phone tilted, half turned toward the floor. The ground was dirt, and the thing in his hand was white. Izuku brought his arm up, holding the object out into the light.
It was a human skull.
Izuku dropped it like it was burning. Then his curiousity got the better of him, and he crouched beside it, focusing the light on it again. It was broken, a shard chipped out from the forehead, little fracture lines extending from that point.
Finally, Izuku did what he’d been meaning to do all along—he turned the phone vertically. The beam illuminated a long hall with no windows. It didn’t seem perfectly straight. Izuku imagined for a moment that this was a creature’s burrow, that some man-eating monster was after him. Then he noticed the long rows of beams extending along the sides and across the ceiling, and he realized this had to have been made by humans. The imperfections probably indicated hand craftsmanship and a lack of modern builder's tools.
The skull wasn’t encouraging. But maybe people had made this long ago, and he’d gone exploring in the historical site. Maybe the knock on the head had messed with his memory.
No, that seemed unlikely. Concussions only did that in All Might movies, when it was convenient for the plot.
Izuku stood up, and his arm swung with the motion. The light moved. Izuku frowned—he thought he had seen something. He turned the beam back toward the ground, and there, catching the light, were little drops of liquid. Deep red. He stepped forward down the hall, keeping the beam angled to show the floor. It looked like someone had come through here before him, bleeding.
He quickened his pace. If there was somebody in trouble, then he needed to find them as soon as possible.
“It’s been so long since we’ve been exploring,” Izuku said, screwing the lid back onto his waterbottle.
“It’s not exploring, idiot,” Kacchan said. He was farther ahead on the trail—they’d started the hike side by side, but Izuku kept stopping to gape at trees, at strangely shaped rocks, at plants he didn’t recognize, and Kacchan was protesting his pace.
“It feels like exploring,” Izuku said, turning his eyes up toward the canopy. He’d never been on this trail before.
“It’s not exploring because the whole thing’s been mapped out!” Kacchan insisted, loud enough that Izuku had no trouble hearing even with his head turned the wrong way. “Look around you—we’re on a trail! Somebody made that!”
“It’s exploring for me,” Izuku said. He was still following after Kacchan. That’s what he’d always done as a kid. The way that Kacchan decided where to go didn’t really affect the experience, since he’d argue if Izuku tried to give his own input anyway.
“Help!” someone screamed.
Izuku turned toward the noise, every nerve alight. He was already moving forward, up a small, rocky rise and down the other side of it. There were no more screams, but he thought he could still hear someone crying.
“Deku?” Kacchan yelled. It was hard to tell if he was particularly concerned, or if that was the volume he would have used anyway.
“Did you hear that?” Izuku yelled, still moving. There were a lot of large rocks under the trees here—a lot of nooks where a child could stand hidden from view.
“Hear what?” Kacchan demanded, “Deku—get back on the trail!”
“I heard someone!” Izuku yelled. He stopped. He’d lost track of the noise.
“I’m serious!” Kacchan said, but there was a rustling in the leaves behind him, like Kacchan was climbing the rise too, “Five people have gone missing from here in the last—”
“Shut up!” Izuku shouted.
Kacchan must have appreciated his urgency, because he stopped everything.
In the quiet, Izuku thought he heard breathing. He darted forward, around another rock, and there in front of him stood a young child, tear tracks running down his face.
“Hey,” Izuku said, crouching down beside him, “It’s alright now.”
“I’m lost,” the child said.
“We’ll help you get back,” Izuku said, reaching out to take his hands.
Izuku climbed up out of a sloped tunnel and emerged into a forest at evening. It was cold, and the wind moved through the treetops overhead, like a broom raking over the floor.
He couldn’t remember how he’d come here.
His phone was in his hand. He unlocked it, opened an app, and tried to call Uraraka. She was good at not freaking out when he got into a situation. But the call didn’t go through—he didn’t have any service out here.
Sighing, he checked the battery. It was a little over half full. Also, it seemed like his flashlight was on. Quickly, he turned it off. He didn’t want to waste battery like that before the sun went down.
Something caught Izuku’s eye, and he crouched, picking up a leaf from the ground. It was brown, almost white, but a few drops of red had sprinkled down over it, like paint flung from a paintbrush. It looked almost like blood.
Izuku bit his lip. Then he stood, scanning the ground around him. Yes—he could see more of it. Someone had come this way before him, bleeding. He had to find them as soon as possible.
He darted forward, and then his foot caught on something, nearly tripping him. Catching his balance, Izuku stopped and looked back.
There on the ground was an entire human skeleton, curled up against itself.
Izuku felt his breath coming faster, but he shook his head. That person hadn't been bleeding anytime soon. He had to find the person he could still save.
“All the way back to my dwelling?” a man’s voice said.
Izuku blinked. He was on a dirt floor. There was a table and chair in front of him, someone’s legs sticking down into his field of vision.
The man stood up and walked over to him. He was young, plain looking, and even though Izuku didn’t recognize him, there was something familiar about his eyes.
“Didn’t you feel the pricks?” he continued, “Why didn’t you let go?”
Izuku peeled himself up from the floor. His arms stung. “There was a child. Where did that little boy go? Did you see him?”
The man laughed, pointing down at Izuku. “Worry about yourself! Most let go after the first pain, and I loose them somewhere in the woods. The poison takes them, and I find them in my own time. But look at you—you have a double, triple portion!”
Slowly, Izuku edged backwards. He remembered now how he knew this man—he looked just like that child, all grown up. “Was it you? What have you been doing to all those people?”
The man stepped forward, crouched down to bend over him. “You ordinary people—you could never learn to accept me. You’d never let me live with this meta ability.”
Izuku’s shoulder ran up against a wall. His palm came down over something round and hard.
“Your life for mine,” the man said, reaching out to touch him.
Izuku swung his arm. Two skulls connected with a crack, and the man fell back, groaning. Izuku jumped to his feet and darted out of the room.
"You'll never make it back!" the man called after him, laughing now, "You won't remember enough in time!"
It was getting harder to follow the trail. The sun was setting, and the blood drops were growing fewer and fewer. Izuku hoped that whoever they belonged to had bandaged themselves up, or that the blood had clotted at least. Still, it didn't make his job any easier.
If only he could light his way somehow.
He was getting tired too—so Izuku decided to sit down against a tree. That would bring him closer to the ground at least. Maybe he'd be able to spot the blood easier from here. With newfound determination, he leaned a little forward, squinting down at the carpet of leaves. Sure enough, right in front of him was a large blood drop.
Izuku rubbed his eyes, peering down again. He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. How had he been lucky enough to sit down right in front of the thing he was searching for?
While he was sitting there, staring, another blood drop fell beside it.
Slowly, Izuku brought his hands down into his field of vision. Deep scratches ran along his palms and arms.
"Oh," Izuku said aloud. Had he been following himself in circles? Or maybe he'd gone out in a line, gotten turned around, and started following himself back the way he'd come.
He rubbed his forehead. He was having trouble remembering what had happened so far. Maybe if he just laid down here for a moment to rest, it would all come back to him later.
Something rustled, and Izuku’s eyes snapped open. When had he closed them? Was someone coming toward him?
For some reason, even though he was lost, he was afraid of someone finding him out here.
Quickly, Izuku tried to jump to his feet, but he found that he didn’t have the strength. There was something wrong with him, with his mind. It was like coming out of a coma—he was stuck halfway through the process.
A pair of feet walked up into his field of vision.
“Go away,” Izuku said. He didn’t expect it to be effective.
The person crouched down over him, grabbed his shoulder and turned him over.
Izuku blinked. It wasn’t who he’d been expecting.
“Nerd,” Kacchan said. He looked tired. “You should have stayed on the trail. Didn’t I tell you we weren’t exploring?”