Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

          Izuku Midoriya feels everything.

Whether it be the unrestrained explosions that sting his skin unbearably, or the quiet 'null' muttered by one of his classmates whilst passing them in the corridor.

It wasn't like Izuku chooses to remember these things, either. He doesn't want to remember how the girl who sat beside him in science shivered and flinched like she'd been shot when he'd accidentally brushed his shoulder against hers a month ago, nor does he want to remember how the boys who grouped together at the front of the classroom in English had written 'freak' on his table this Tuesday.

This time, it was much harder to rub off. They had apparently learned from their previous mistakes of using white-board marker, now resorting to etching the words into the wood before using permanent marker, presumably sharpie.

Izuku had come to school 10 minutes earlier, as usual, to avoid prying eyes and unnecessary interactions when walking to his seat at the back. But that Tuesday, he had ended up walking back and forth from the bathroom with handfuls of tissues smothered in soap in order to attempt to rub off as much of the insult as humanly possible. He hadn't been able to avoid the loud jeers and painfully loud laughter that day, and Izuku remembers.

Every sneer and taunt lodges itself deep into Izuku's hippocampus cavity, sticking to the top of his memory like unwanted gum on a shoe. The insults linger inside of his brain like lethal parasites; insidious and cruel and attacking his every thought. When Izuku is plagued with these reminders of his utter uselessness, he recalls the unforgettable and famous quote of All Might saying, "Just believe in yourself, and you can become a hero!", and everything appears all the bit better. 

Yet, believing seems to be much harder than it sounds.

Which was awfully strange because it was coming out of All Might’s mouth himself, yet the words were incredibly difficult to absorb when he’d just been told to ‘take a swan dive off the roof of the building’ by his childhood-best friend turned-bully.

The crude words and background laughter from Bakugou’s throng echoed in Izuku’s mind like bullets, ricocheting off of each hollow chamber within his mind and leaving indents beyond repair.

The thing that stung the most wasn’t even the fact he wasn’t handed the UA admission form by his teacher, but rather that he had believed that he’d get it — nevermind the thought that him completing it would accomplish something.

He had entered that classroom on Friday well aware that the teacher would be handing out those very forms, yet he didn’t think to doubt himself. The honeyed words of ‘All Might's 10 Most Inspiring Quotes’ resonated in Izuku’s mind like sacred writing, erasing any uncertainty abiding within.

Instead, he leaves the school with a new starburst-shaped scar underneath the scorched fabric of his blazer and a charred notebook.

Kicking the rocks under the worn sole of his shoe, he feels the ragged stones wear the old leather away even more. He feels the wind whip against his singed hair, the strong breeze making his already teary eyes more watery. The tears threaten to exit, the familiar burn of an incoming sob crawling up his throat and building heat behind his eyes and God, Izuku Midoriya really does feel everything.

He feels the simmering embarrassment boil over like an overflowing tub, and he feels the utter disappointment seize every inch of his body and tighten the coil that has been growing inside of his stomach since he was merely five.

The emotions have twisted and entwined within his very being, to the point where every other sense eventually became void and he ceases to realise the fact that he’s just turned the wrong way, entering the dark tunnel far away from any civilisation.

The tears swimming within his eyes cast a blurry haze over Izuku’s vision, failing to render the blow of dirt and dust stirring around his feet from the large amount of pressure emitted from behind him. The sound of a large crash! startles Izuku as he barely registers the sudden ejection of the metal grate soar centimetres past his face, crashing into the already wrecked concrete of the tunnel. Trembling, his frozen body somehow manages to allow him to turn his head, getting a brief view of the imposing bundle of sludge casting a large shadow over him, right before the substance seemed to swallow him whole.

The sudden intrusion of slime crawling up his limbs renders Izuku paralysed, breath catching in his sore throat. It slides against his arms, leaving a viscid residue in its wake. It slides against his chest, forcing the mutilated notebook from the clutch of his clammy hands. It slides into his mouth, forcing Izuku to finally take the breath he so desperately needed to do something. 

His body writhes hopelessly as the sludge clogs his oesophagus, choking urgently in order to gasp a single breath. At the abrupt attempt at salvation, the sludge villain chuckles, voice dark and taunting as it continues its encroachment.

“Don’t worry, I'm just hijacking your body,” Izuku could swear he hears an audible smirk within the words. “Calm down. It’ll only hurt for about 45 seconds…” Did the slime enter Izuku’s ears? Apart from this villain's voice, everything was too silent. His vision seems a bit weird, too. Black spots are fading in and out fast, and Izuku miserably tries to think of a defence move from his many notebooks. Perhaps Kamui Woods would attempt to sever large chunks of the sludge’s body. But on the other hand, the sludge is too viscous. The sludge probably would swallow Kamui’s arm whole, and therefore endanger him too.

“... then it’ll all be over.”

The words are muffled and muted, warping at the syllables with twisted delight and strange precision — as if this monster had said this before.

The instantaneous realisation brews a feeling in the pit of his stomach that Izuku has not felt in a long time — one of rage and unfamiliar malice. People had suffered through this; the violation of losing control of their own body. People with quirks most likely were helpless against him, too, Izuku figures. The sudden invasion mixed with the panic definitely hadn’t merged well with possible emitter and transformation quirks — potential mutant quirks, too.

Fear and numbness transform sour and hostile within mere seconds at the rush of immoral thoughts Izuku experiences. His vision skews, slowly shifting 90 degrees as the feeling of static envelops his body. Through his grainy perception, the villain’s face — well, its visage — becomes eerily sharp.

Each orifice and coagulated, pooling mass seems strangely clear, as if Izuku’s viewing it from a high-resolution camera. Hearing muted and stifled — the everpresent, burning sensation of undiluted wrath blooms outside of the growing pit in his stomach, spreading throughout his body like a red-hot parasite, presenting as a pin-prick sensation at his fingertips, and an agonizing aneurysm in his head. Izuku’s first instinct — to scream for help, hope All Might would show up and save him — is mechanically overridden by the irresistible urge to throw his arm out, grab for the villain’s exposed eye and pull—

“Have no fear, you’re safe.”

Izuku can barely perceive the words through the sound of glitching — like the sound you’d hear when an old videogame crashed — echoing throughout his brain. When did he start hearing that?

“Now that I am here, that is.”

Alarmed and panicked, the sludge releases Izuku and compresses itself into a smaller form, lunging towards All Might’s towering figure. Unable to outwit him, the sludge watches in mental despair as the hero crouches with meteoric precision before launching himself like a cannon towards its main body.

The sheer force of All Might’s punch causes earthquake-like vibrations to echo throughout the tunnel, causing the concrete to crumble at the peak of the arch and Izuku to stumble at the intensity. Following the violent shudder, the sludge separates at the middle.

All Might’s punch has caused the villain to have a human-sized crater in its body.

Strangely, Izuku hasn’t gone unconscious from the suffocation. Being strangled for that long of a duration was sure to make an average quirked human pass out — nevermind a quirkless. The alien urge of vexation and fury has seemingly dissipated too, as well as the things wrong with his vision and hearing, leaving a strange tingling sensation throughout his body in its wake.

Izuku’s widened eyes stared in confusion and pure horror at the concrete beneath him, body trembling and hands quivering as he finally processed the gravity of the situation before him. He had almost been killed, experienced foreign feelings of barely restrained rage, and has now been saved by All Might. Speaking of the man, the hero now holds a crushed bottle in his hands: constraining the stubborn main body of the sludge villain. The permanent smile on his face glimmers with the epitome of triumph, legs tense with potent power as he prepares to launch himself away — all without talking to Izuku once.

Struck with sudden resolve, Izuku throws himself at All Might’s leg and clutches the denim fabric just as the hero soars at remarkable speeds across the skies of Musutafu. The wind scratches at his eyes painfully and his grip loosens alarmingly at each passing second, determination completely vanished and his chest riddled with the overwhelming, foreboding feeling of dread. It wasn’t the same dread he feels when he catches the sight of Bakugou stalking towards him, though — this sensation was deep-rooted, profound and undeniably escalating as he watched the buildings below him get smaller and smaller.

“Hey, now! Release me! Such enthusiasm is a bit much!” The resonant voice of All Might somehow meets Izuku’s ears through the roaring wind, yet he is still unable to respond. The hero stares at Izuku for a couple moments, bewildered, before realising that the kid couldn't simply ‘let go’.

After landing on a desolate rooftop, All Might swiftly attempts to leave. His concerns visibly lie with escaping the situation and preserving himself, rather than helping Izuku down, too — but Izuku cannot bring himself to simply let go of such an opportunity. Rambling a broken script he rehearsed every other day since being diagnosed quirkless, he asks his favourite hero, “Can someone without a quirk become a hero like you?”

Eyes screwed up in suspense and heart beating dangerously fast in his chest, Izuku doesn't know what to expect. He prepares himself for multiple outcomes: A supportive speech, an avoidance of the question, even possibly a gentle let-down.

He simply resumes speaking, head downcast in oblivion to All Might’s plight, “I want to be the strongest hero, just like y—”

The sudden unleash of smoke certainly startles the boy, but the skeletal figure that emerges from the fog scares him even more. The tall man claims himself as All Might, briefly explaining the background to his condition, before deciding to bluntly answer Izuku’s previous question.

“Without power, can one become a hero? I should think not.”

All Might continues to suggest alternate courses Izuku can take, oblivious to the boy’s inner turmoil, “You need to be realistic, kid.”

He exits through the door at the back, leaving Izuku on the high rooftop. 

All Might makes it halfway down the stairs before he reminds himself of his duties, despite being out of time. His hands pat down his empty pockets, panic seizing his worn body as he realises he lost the bottle containing the villain. It must've been during the takeoff or landing — or perhaps the kid made it drop when the latched onto his trousers, All Might figures.

Retracing his steps, the hero walks through one of the desolate tunnels in order to get to the urban area he flew over. A pair of drunk men jeer and chuckle absurdly loud, tripping over the empty beer cans surrounding them. The abundance of noise veils the faint sound of an explosion in the distance, and the tall buildings that tower over the urban roads once he exits the tunnel conceal the large blast of smoke that rises into the clouds.

All Might continues walking, not turning back.

Izuku can’t breathe.

His breaths come out in short gasps as he charges towards the direction of the collecting smoke in the sky, eyes wide in horror and stomach twisting in unnerving guilt. The tendrils of sludge can be seen over certain buildings, and Izuku feels the relentless urge to vomit.

He did this.

Whether it be unintentional or not, he made All Might drop the bottle at some point. The foreign feelings stir at the surface of his mind once again, and he isn't too sure that it's a side effect of the sludge’s quirk anymore. 

Rounding the corner, the occasional person Izuku sees turns into a massive crowd at the centre of the road. Multiple heroes are already at the scene; high-ranked heroes, too. Izuku recognises Kamui Woods, Mt. Lady, Deatharms — even the rescue hero: Backdraft.

Yet, they aren’t doing anything? Backdraft is holding citizens back from danger: a common thing he does when there's a high-risk crowd control component. But Deatharms, Kamui Woods, and Mt. Lady — they're all standing idle at the side. Mt. Lady complains about the width of the street, Kamui Woods complains about the element of fire being his weakness, and Deatharms states that the villain is “too slippery”.

Four heroes — two within the top ten rank, yet none were willing to think a bit harder and find an alternate solution.

“Just gotta wait for someone with the right quirk to show up.”

The words strike something inside of Izuku, the world skewing slowly at a 90 degree angle and the static within his vision pulsing as it returns in waves.

“His hostage with the explosive quirk is resisting!"

Izuku pushes near the front of the crowd, eyes wide and hands trembling around the straps of his backpack as he finally gets a clear view of the ‘fight’.

Terrified red eyes meet him through the layers of sludge.

Izuku lunges forward, barely managing to jump over the barrier Backdraft created. Yells echo throughout the disorderly road, and Kamui attempts to launch wood to hook Izuku and tug him backwards — but Izuku narrowly avoids the attack, throwing his body to the left. He remembers writing about that counter-move months prior. Izuku stumbles, red shoes scuffing the charred concrete of the road before his legs move at a speed that a quirkless isn’t expected to possess. He isn’t even fully aware why he’s running in the first place —

But maybe he was.

All Might’s rejection stung harder than the explosions Bakugou often let out. It even hurt more than the starburst shaped on the backside of his left shoulder — with that one, he felt the skin boiling before it blistered and melted into his school shirt. 

The insatiable desire to prove All Might wrong: to save someone, to get praised for it, to be labelled as something other than a ‘mistake’ and ‘reject' engulfed Izuku’s every survival instinct and morphed into the compulsive impulse to run and save Bakugou. All he’s ever wanted since he was old enough to grasp the concept of heroes was to save anyone. If he could ever complete that wish, he considers now to be the best chance to do it.

Even if it's the last.

The thing that Izuku has come to realise is: Bakugou has a future promised to him. Strong personality, two loving parents, a crazy strong quirk, and he’s intelligent enough — Bakugou is destined to be a hero. By signing that paper earlier today, he practically already cemented his place in UA. There was no doubt he’d pass the entrance exams; he was simply fated to be great. But Izuku — he had nothing ahead of him. Perhaps if he really wanted, he could become a police officer like All Might suggested. It’s a noble occupation — at least, for his caliber of person. But Izuku knows that in that profession, he will never be truly happy. 

Izuku understands, in that moment, that he can either wait for an unconfirmed future — or he can complete his lifelong wish.

Reaching Bakugou took shorter than expected. Izuku hasn’t anticipated facing off with the Sludge Villain so soon, and neither has he memorised any defense or attack moves from his notebook — nevermind any moves a quirkless, middle-school boy with no experience could replicate. His mind runs empty as Bakugou finally renders Izuku’s presence, eyes widening even further with undiluted confusion and fury.

“Deku?”

Izuku grabs at the slime restlessly, hands grasping large chunks of muck. He quickly notes the fact that the sludge villain is regenerating too quickly for Izuku to do any damage — let alone delay it. Bakugou’s explosions rapidly become more imprecise and dangerous, skimming just past Izuku’s cheekbone and blowing lumps of slime across the street. The Sludge Villain just grows more apprehensive and agitated, casting more slime over Bakugou’s body.

The entire situation is a downright mess and a pure nightmare, and Izuku’s last resort in his panic-ridden mind is to throw his bag at the villain. It startles the villain just enough for it to look down, losing focus for just a second. Bakugou’s body sinks by just a couple centimetres, and Izuku sees the split moment where the sludge villain begins to elevate Bakugou’s body out of reach again but Izuku hurls himself forward and grabs at the sliver of fabric shown through the heap of slime.

He manages to secure his clammy grip around Bakugou’s left ankle. The Sludge villain tries to raise Bakugou’s body up once more, but Izuku throws his entire body weight back the best he can, using his feet to push back against the giant chunk of slime. 

Izuku’s shoes sink into the slime quickly like quicksand, and he tugs harder. His strength as a quirkless 15 year old who has never attempted to defend himself from bullying, nevermind experienced a real fight, is incomparable to the strength of the Sludge villain.

Yet, knowing that, Izuku tugs even harder.

One of Bakugou’s hands gets free after his incessant attempts to push through the slime, with the help of Izuku’s distractions. He angles his hand just right, palm facing towards his chest and down before blasting another controlled explosion. This one blows most of the slime off of the right side of his torso, allowing him to rotate his whole arm backwards to let out yet another explosion and propel his body forwards.

Izuku anticipates this, pulling at Bakugou’s ankle once again so the other side of his body can free itself from the sludge too. Doing this, Izuku shifts to the side to get more momentum, shoulder grazing the now-erratic body of the Sludge Villain.

Within a mere second, the situation does a complete one-eighty.

Bakugou gets ejected from the Sludge Villain. His explosions hurl him forward, his weakened body soaring into a brick building. Izuku’s hand still has a firm grip on his ankle, and the force of Bakugou’s explosion should have taken Izuku with him, too. 

However, the sludge that was simply grazing Izuku's shoulder moments ago now envelops the entire left side of his body. The crowds previous cheers whilst watching Bakugou get free turn into gasps before becoming pleas and calls for the heroes to do something. The slime veils Izuku’s entire body quickly, and the Sludge Villain jeers in wicked joy, “You again, the weak one. This will be much easier, eh?”

Kamui Woods prepares to run forwards. The whole reason the previous situation was so compromising and difficult was solely dependent on the hostage. Bakugou, the kid with the explosion quirk, held back the advancement of the Sludge Villain by his quirk being so destructive to the villain’s body, to the point that he couldn't regenerate fast enough and just stayed at a constant size. This prevented Bakugou himself from getting extensively injured — all whilst simultaneously preventing heroes like Kamui from helping, due to the explosions and fire being a risk factor in both citizen-safety and a disadvantage to his quirk.

But now, the Sludge Villain can take over his new vessel much more briskly due to no apparent quirk.

This also means that Kamui can finally help.

Wood extends from the hero’s arm, curling and preparing to extend forward like a lasso. The crowd cheers in tandem seeing this, phones out and already recording before a voice, ragged and hoarse, echoes loudly throughout the street.

“Deku, you quirkless idiot! What are you doing?” The world slows.

Kamui Woods halts. His quirk, already activated and halfway extended towards the sludge, stops. It’s not apparent whether his sudden pause was caused by the sentence simply startling him from the sheer idea that a quirkless would voluntarily try to help during such a high-intensity fight like this — or for an alternative, unspoken reason.

The crowd's cheers and yells dim almost instantly; a singular word reverberating throughout each person’s head. Phones previously held high slightly lower, and imperceptible murmurs begin spreading throughout the mob.

The world slows for an exact number of six seconds before Kamui Woods begins moving again, but it's too late.

The Sludge Villain tightens its vice-grip on Izuku’s throat, and the black spots completely take over his vision. He's sure there's been some sort of damage to his windpipe. He can almost hear the silence of the real world through the muffled and ringing of his hearing, and Izuku can too hear the tacit word ‘quirkless’ echoing through his head, bouncing off every corner in his mind and deepening the already-existing indents. The slime firmly wrapped around his wrist pulls a certain way, and Izuku’s sure that it's been broken — dislocated, at least.

Izuku can barely think — but one solemn, diluted realisation repeats itself within his head like an internal mantra. He endures every word, sharp and piercing as he just lets himself feel for the last time. Izuku is aware of his impending death, and he can feel it in the way his body slowly shuts down: starting with his sense of vision.

‘I wish… I could have another chance.’

The static returns for the third time this day, saturating his view of green slime with a black-and-white tint. The glitching sound resumes, but Izuku’s not filled with rage.

No one saved him — no hero attempted to save him.

A certain numbness engulfs his body as he takes his final, slime-filled breath, and Izuku’s heart stops.

The crowd continues whispering in conflicted and ambivalent mumbles, and no one notices the fact that Izuku’s already dead — not until his limp, rigid body is tossed metres away from the barriers.

! NOTIFICATION

[ The Secret Quest:

“Courage of the Weak.” ]

COMPLETED

! NOTIFICATION

You have required the qualifications

to be a Player. Will you accept?

! NOTIFICATION

Your heart will stop in 0.02 seconds

If you choose not to accept.

Will you accept?

[ YES ]    [ NO ]

! NOTIFICATION

[ YES ]

Selected. Activating System …

COMPLETED

Chapter Text

          Death is warmer than Izuku expected.

Not in the literal sense, though. He still finds himself quite cold, but the calmness is nice. There’s nothing to feel, nothing to hear — and Izuku can simply think about whatever comes to him in waves. He doesn’t have to worry about hearing his mother try to stifle her cries from the room beside him when he tries to write in his hero diary, nor does he have to concern himself with looking over his shoulder every couple minutes in fear of Bakugou sneaking up on him again.

Now that Izuku thinks about it, he can hear his own heartbeat. It’s steady and balanced, unlike all the times where he was afraid. And now that he can reflect on it, there weren’t many moments where Izuku was not afraid. The constant, rhythmic beating soothes his non-existent nerves, and for the first time in what seems like forever, he relaxes.

“Doctor, he’s awake!”

The sudden yell startles Izuku, causing him to jump in place. His eyes open in a panicked frenzy as his dreamland shatters before his eyes, and he finally renders the place he thought to be his resting place morph into a hospital. “Oh, sweetie. You’re shivering. I’m sorry; the blankets here are quite thin, aren't they?”

Izuku manages to make out the outline of a woman. As his vision focuses, he can tell that she's slightly older — maybe around forty. She’s wearing a surgical mask, but the crinkle of her kind eyes allows him to tell that she’s smiling. She tugs at the thin fabric of the duvet and tucks it under Izuku — just like his mother used to. “You were in a villain accident, sweetheart. You’ve been asleep for just over four days now, and you've managed to stir up quite the speculation, haven't you?” Her tone continues to be soft and even, despite stating such a confusing announcement. 

“I’m sorry, miss. What are you — ”

Izuku cuts himself off; the horrible sound of his dry throat is clearly apparent through his speech. The nurse simply smiles lightly, moving across the room in a graceful manner. She grabs a plastic cup off the sterile counter before filling it up with water, handing it to Izuku. “I understand you’ve been documented as quirkless, yes?” Her tone shifts to a calculated, careful one.

“Yes, um — I don't really understand what’s happening right now?” Izuku’s voice breaks as the unfamiliarity and uncomfortable nature of the situation finally digs its claws into him, and he begins to shake noticeably. Her eyes are quite expressive, Izuku figures, as they now exhibit unease and apprehension. It's nice, though. Izuku can’t remember the last time someone could bother to show visible concern for him, except maybe his mother.

“It’s alright, honey. I’ll give you a moment to breathe, okay? Don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll call your mother and make sure she comes right now. You don’t have to process everything at this very moment. Some things are better off to worry about later.” Her words strike something inside Izuku, as he takes a deep breath and settles. 

“Okay. During the attack, there were lots of people around. You were confirmed dead for about a minute, okay?” She pauses, gauging his reaction before continuing, “After a minute, your body started showing signs of revival. You began breathing again.” She pauses once again, but Izuku can’t even inhale — let alone react. “The whole situation was recorded by the public. Revival quirks are essentially unheard of, so you’ve gained the interest of the media. There’s some officials from the Hero Public Safety Commission waiting outside your room right now, but I won't let them in until you’re ready, okay?”

The sudden onslaught of such bizarre words causes Izuku to completely freeze, eyes wide and glassy as he attempts to grasp the situation he finds himself in. “I can see you’re in shock, sweetheart. I’ll get the doctor in here in just a second, okay, honey? I’m not going anywhere.” The unbelievably kind words don't render in his brain, and his eyes mindlessly track the woman as she goes to the door and calls out for the doctor once again.

Within mere seconds, the doctor rushes in. A bright gleam is plastered on his face as he smiles relentlessly, jittery and unable to constrain his evident delight. “Hi there, Midoriya. It’s an honour to be treating someone with such a remarkable quirk. I look forward to working with you.” He gleefully gushes, hands visibly itching to grab towards Izuku. “My name is Doctor Tanaka, and I hope to make your experience here enjoyable.” He continues blissfully rambling, eyes passing over Izuku like he’s a trophy — until the nurse coughs.

“Oh, I apologise. You seem to be in shock, eh? I would too if I discovered that I went from being a quirkless to holding such an extraordinary power.” His tone stabilises from the extreme happiness, yet audibly shifts from veiled discontent to pleased throughout his last statement. He pulls a needle and vial from a desk, looking awfully cheerful.

“I’m gonna give you some Diazepam, alrighty? It’ll slow your blood pressure right down and slow your breathing. It’s a little strong, but only the best for my protege student! You’re gonna have to know all the terminology for these silly medicines if you take on the medical path with that quirk of yours, especially if the HPSC out there tests you and says it can work on others! You could be —"

Doctor Tanaka’s voice drones out as Izuku begins to understand.

He came back to life from a Villain attack. People don’t just simply resurrect. And Izuku swears he broke his wrist, but he doesn’t even have a cast on — assuming he hasn’t been healed by someone with a specialised quirk — but the only known person that can heal broken bones to that full extent is Recovery Girl.

If his power can not only bring him back to life, but also heal all his injuries he gained — Izuku would be unstoppable. With a quirk like that, All Might would be forced to see Izuku rise in ranks and —

No, Izuku thinks. Getting ahead of himself without viable confirmation could only harm himself in the long run even more. Izuku knows he’s quirkless — both biologically, and the fact that he simply just knows. He spent years upon years as a child convincing himself he has a quirk which just has a difficult trigger.

I’m just a late bloomer, he told himself from age four to ten. He had a pair of notebooks dedicated to ruling out possible quirks and scheming things he could do to awaken them — but to no avail.

“— and out on the field, you’d practically be invincible! I mean—” The kind nurse cuts the enthusiastic doctor off, expression tense yet unwavering. “Doctor Tanaka, it’s been six minutes and his heartbeat has slowed back down to its resting pace. I think it’s best that the HPSC comes and tests him now, so it's done and over with.” Her voice is stern, yet still has a soft edge in the presence of Izuku. Startled, the doctor nods and silently gestures at her to open the door.

“Good evening, Midoriya. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure you’ve been filled in about your situation. We’d like to conduct three concise tests to confirm your quirk status — if you’d let us, of course.” A blonde woman with cold, blue eyes begins speaking as soon as she enters the room, “The first test will simply re-examine the joint in your foot. In the second test, we will inject a quirk identifier. This will simply make this device beep in confirmation if the gene is found to be active.” The man beside her raises the briefcase, as if to show that the equipment is in the case. “The third test will involve a quirk specialist; she’s on the way here right now.”

So Izuku lets the lady take him to the X-ray room, where there's two doctors already waiting. There’s a hoard of female nurses lingering around the window outside the room, whispering conspiracies and giggling in fascination when one of them mentions a new theory.

Izuku passes the nurses who then suddenly go quiet when they notice his presence, and he quickly comes to realise that he misses the nice nurse in his room. They examine his foot and come to the conclusion that the joint did not marvellously vaporize once he died.

The buff man beside the woman then stiffly steps forward, placing the briefcase on the examination table in the corner of the room before opening it with strange precision. Inside, there was: a vial with the presumed quirk-indentifying solution, a syringe, and a grey square seemingly embedded into the inside of the briefcase. “I will inject this solution into you. It does not have any long lasting effects, but you may experience a slight burning sensation when it first enters your bloodstream. If it makes contact with an active quirk gene, the cube inside the briefcase will turn red and make a noise.” His voice is even and devoid of any emotion; his words are practiced and surgical.

Methodically, the man grabs the syringe and extracts the solution from the vial. He steps forward, pinching the skin of Izuku’s arm which is exposed by the short sleeves of the thin hospital gown. Inserting the needle, he steadily empties the syringe before sliding it out and applying pressure with a piece of gauze.

Izuku feels eyes on him — glaring, analytical, and utmost expecting. The doctors, nurses outside and most importantly, the HPSC, expect greatness. They expect Izuku to have a quirk so monumental that it’ll be revolutionary — and they expect him to use it to help heroes. If Izuku somehow did develop a quirk between the moment of life and death, he’ll be pressured to use it in every way society wants him to — and most likely without regard to his own choice.

Around 30 seconds pass, and Izuku’s heart drops as he hears the loud sigh of the woman beside him. Her tone is bored, disappointed and somewhat patronising as she types away on her phone, muttering, “Test one, fail. Test two, also a fail” just loud enough, so Izuku could hear. The nurses go wide-eyed, murmuring ceaselessly as they begin to hurriedly walk away, hands cupping their mouths as they begin to whisper again; Izuku knows they’re not discussing quirk theories anymore.

The doctors also shuffle out of the room with almost unintelligible expressions, but the tension in both their jaws and slight curl of their lips betrays their professional facade. The only constant that keeps Izuku from completely breaking down is the steady presence of the indifferent HPSC official. His hands stay calm as he packs away the equipment, and his expression remains indecipherable.

“Midoriya, the quirk official will get here in a couple minutes. You should go back to your room, freshen up and get ready. Her quirk is quite invasive, so we’ll do it in your private room. The doctors here were supposed to escort you back, but it seems they’ve already left.” The blonde woman’s tone is fatigued despite not lifting a finger in the past thirty minutes. She lets out a drawled ‘hmm’ at her last point — almost disdainful, as she watches Izuku’s guarded expression shatter at the edges with a veiled smirk. 

Izuku shakes his head with a quiet, “I’ll be fine,” as he quickly exits the room, turning left and stumbling up the stairs.

The tears creep up on him almost instantly, the tell-tale burning behind his eyes travelling to his whole face as it heats up as the result of the utter humiliation he just experienced. His hands begin to shake and his lip begins to tremble as the indicative signs of a breakdown smother his every action. He barely makes it in the room before he clutches onto his bedside just to stay upright, tears sliding down his cheeks like they’ve done a million times before. Izuku was so caught up in the feelings he happens to feel so incredibly strongly so much so that he did not render the presence of his nurse.

“Hey, sweetheart. They told me you’d be back here after your second test, how’d it g —” Her cheerful inquisition is cut off by the loud sound of his choked sob, and the woman pauses in the midst of replacing his IV bag. She turns slowly, hand moving to clutch her scrubs atop where her heart is as she takes in the sight of Izuku. 

His face is awfully red as the result of holding in his tears for the duration of his journey back to his room. Yet, they still travel down the slope of his cheekbones, saturating his cheeks with the result of his disappointment. The breaths he lets out are choked, muffled — as he tries to conceal them with his sweaty palm in complete vain. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking — why I thought that I could have a quirk. I knew for so many years there’s no chance, I don't know why I thought it’d change all of the sudden just ‘cause I died —” The whimpered rambles leave his mouth like an overflowing tub. His hands clutch at his face in despair, trying to rub off the evidence of his despondency that he had previously reminded himself not to feel. “Hey, hey — hey, Izuku. How about we sit down and talk about it, huh? You’re hurting yourself by rubbing your face so hard, okay?” The nurse spoke in a soothing tone. She’d probably been trained to react to patients with outbursts like this, but Izuku can’t help but feel special — like she actually cares.

“I failed both tests.” The admission leaves his mouth like a sin to be forgiven; whether he spoke it out loud with the expectation for the nurse to understand it and leave the room in disgust or to try to force the words to sink into his own head — Izuku didn't know.

He carefully watched the nurse’s face through his blurry eyes, preparing himself for the sudden recoil from his touch or the instant grimace. Izuku reminded himself of that one time he asked the teacher to go to the toilet, and he caught her wiping his hand on the fabric of her long skirt once he’d taken the bathroom pass from her. The memory replaying within his head caused him to physically flinch, lowering his head from her eyeview as he composed himself for the collective reaction he’d always experienced.

“Okay — that’s fine. Those tests aren’t always accurate, y’know? The X-ray just indicates that the person is very likely to have a quirk; it's not a guarantee. And the injection — I read a paper back on it in medical school, it's actually twelve percent inaccurate —”

“I can’t have a quirk.”

The sentence comes out so gutteral, so broken that Izuku has to elaborate in order to not let the feeling of distress and upright anguish envelop him whole, “I was diagnosed quirkless when I was four. I was so distraught that I wired my brain into permanent denial or something — gosh, by the time I was six, I had two notebooks dedicated solely on trying to find out my ‘quirk trigger’. I was convinced that I inherited my mum’s telekinesis, and that it just had a very specific activation requirement.”

“I kept on telling her I made the leaves outside move or the clothes on the hangers fall off. She had to book a second quirk diagnosis test for me. It was expensive and she was so, so hopeful — and they diagnosed me quirkless, with definite confirmation. I had spent three years at that point, trying to find something which never existed in the first place. My mum didn’t speak to me for almost a week after that, and I don’t want to go through that again. I really don’t.”

His rushed speech ends with a large inhale, panting from the anxiety stemming from the idea of not being enough, again. Izuku attempts to even his breathing, causing his tears to subsequently show signs of stopping. He carefully watches the nurse. Her face twists with something akin to surprise, yet the furrow of her brows and sudden tension in her jaw suggests an expression of somewhat confliction. She seems torn, mouth parted yet no words leaving her mouth. She swallows, looking Izuku in the eye and opens her mouth, about to utter something that would likely determine Izuku’s entire perception of the world and affect his hope for finding someone who actually doesn’t consider quirks to be the epicentre of their judgement —

“Apologies for the delay, Midoriya. My name is Rin Yoshida, and I will be conducting your final test. My quirk pinpoints the core of a person’s quirk, confirms the activeness of the quirk gene, and shows how their quirk spreads throughout their body. It will confirm whether you have a quirk, and where it focuses so we can determine where the most output is, and hopefully that will help us discover what it is as a whole.”

“For example, someone like Endeavour holds an emitter-type quirk. His quirk is concentrated quite evenly throughout his body, yet is slightly more condensed in his hands due to that being his main output outlet. That is all visible and clear to me, because of my quirk. Assuming you have a revival quirk, I’d presume that your quirk would be too concentrated throughout your body, but slightly more present in your heart and brain. I’d like to check that now.”

Izuku nods, stiff and knowing, as the woman smiles rigidly and walks towards him. She then places one of her hands on each of his shoulders. The sudden feeling of a searing ache and the stinging throbbing causes Izuku to let out a startled gasp, head immediately shooting up in instinct. Within his blurry vision, unfocused by adrenaline, he catches a glimpse of the nurse he’d grown an attachment to in such a short time. Izuku watches with eyes squinted in pain as the HPSC woman ushers the nurse out of the room, head spinning in pain and diluted confusion because why is the lady making a healthcare professional leave his room when he’s in pain?

Yoshida only clutches harder as Izuku attempts to shrink back, humming in acknowledgement as she presumably perceives things within Izuku’s body that he cannot see himself. Her hands linger for a beat longer, squeezing tighter as if to attempt to pull something out of Izuku that she expected to distinguish earlier on — and the results of the test becomes even more brazenly clear to him. He knows well that the media and HPSC and doctors and his mother won’t be pleased with the outcome of the probably ridiculously expensive tests they've conducted on him — so, what does that mean for him?

He will be ostracised, once again. Izuku had just been fed the most miniscule taste of what he could have been offered if he did hold such a remarkable quirk. He could've had distinguished geniuses fussing over him constantly like Doctor Tanaka. He could’ve had the media praising him and labelling him as the next prodigy. He could’ve beaten Bakugou, and he could’ve made his mother proud and his father acknowledge him again. He could have made All Might notice him. Izuku could have been great. 

“ —so unfortunately, I reckon Midoriya does not have a quirk. There is a presence of quirk energy somewhat distributed within his body, but there is nothing at all in his quirk gene itself. What is slightly strange is that it seems as if there's almost some type of film or barrier to his quirk gene, as there’s approximately a two centimetre radius around the cell that lacks any of the quirk energy whatsoever. However, that could possibly be explained by the instance of his quirklessness. I think that we can assume that perhaps there was a bystander which had a long distance, high tier healing quirk; that is the only plausible explanation I can think of.”

The HPSC lady sighs, sounding the utmost discouraged and disheartened as she motions for the man beside her to grab all the equipment, “Alright, Midoriya, I guess that’s it. Good luck in your… future.” She speaks in a drawled tone, heels clicking in a haunting echo as she leaves Izuku’s room hastily, taking his hopes and aspirations with her. Yoshida wipes her hands onto the thin cover of the examination table, tugging her handbag from the cushion in the corner before making her way out of the room, too. The only person left after a period of one minute is the man, his expression eternally callous as he gathers all the scattered equipment. His steps barely make sound as he walks towards the exit, before halting at the doorframe. 

All Izuku can see is his back, as he inhales and utters a simple, “Goodbye.”

Izuku cries. The tears surface again at an alarming rate as he hopelessly clutches at his hospital gown — attempting to stop the burgeoning ache flourishing within the muscle of his heart. He cries and cries and cries, his sobs surfacing from his increasingly hoarse throat. His weeping surely echoes through the corridor, considering the volume of his bawling and the fact the door is ajar, but no one comes.

At least half an hour passes.

Izuku’s cries quieten into continuous, silent tears and occasional whimpers, and no one has come. At one point, someone walking past must’ve shut the door because it’s now closed. He reminisces on the couple hours of grace he was given; the kind, undiluted respect and decency he was shown has now been erased, locked away to be forgotten. 

Izuku officially is back to being a quirkless.

This time, everyone will know. Before all of this, people weren’t aware of Izuku's existence. They’d only learn of him through crude whispers passed among students, or by watching him get beaten and tormented by said-students. He was a ghost myth uttered amongst people as some type of cautionary tale; a curse that would infect you if you’d spoken to him. Izuku was nothing.

Now, he’s folklore. He was the quirkless boy, assumed to have developed a legendary quirk by death — with the assumption being ultimately refuted. People will be aware of his existence, and the teasing and mocking will undeniably escalate. The news reporters stationed outside will definitely hear about this sometime soon, and the articles praising him and ‘his quirk’ will swiftly shift into oblique jabs and bigoted insults. Izuku will be subject to mass amounts of humiliation and discrimination online, but no one will intervene. No one finds it significant enough.

No one finds Izuku significant enough.

“Oh, honey! I’m so sorry I’m late, I just caught the HPSC president walking out! I asked her about your quirk, but she just told me to come ask you. So, how was it? I’ve already tried to call your father, but he hasn’t answered. It’s okay, I always knew my bright boy wasn’t quirkless, there was just no way —”

“Momma, I am quirkless.”

The admission leaves his sore throat like a dam breaking, watching his mother’s face twist from an expression of glee to one of coldness. Izuku finds it almost frightening, the way she conceals whatever emotion was brewing within her chest. She inhales, sharp and quiet, before blinking and settling down onto the chair beside his bed. She’s wordless as she picks up the stray newspaper left in the corner of the room, flicking through it with restrained tension. She does not speak, nor does she look up at Izuku for the remainder of her visit.

Izuku twists and turns within his bed for the next forty minutes, picking at the stitching of the duvet and attempting to ignore his mother’s presence under all circumstances. The silence eats at his mind, and the panic that builds ultimately morphs into fatigue. Eventually, his mother gets up and leaves noiselessly. He’s unsure whether or not he should attempt to stop her and apologise.

The rational part of Izuku’s brain asks him why he’d need to apologise, but he pushes the logical thought away.

However, after everyone leaves his room for good, Izuku finds himself confused. He figures he should’ve gotten enough confirmation from the myriad of tests he’d been coerced to take, but the lone 2D screen floating above him has yet to disappear. It hovers above him, transparent and very obviously not a physical object. He expected it to disappear hours ago, considering that multiple people had been filtering in and out of his room throughout that time period. Izuku had assumed it was perhaps one of the doctor’s quirks, but he begins to doubt that now. He wonders why they haven’t asked him about it.

The screen is unchanging, fixed with the same message since he’s woken up.

! NOTIFICATION

You have unread messages.

Izuku’s not too sure what that means. If it was one of the doctor’s quirks, he presumes it would give him information about his vitals, rather than ‘unread messages’. Even if it was, he doubts they would be lenient enough to help him after his second diagnosis.  Whatever it is, they probably can’t see it. The longer he stares at the screen, the more he seems to feel immersed in an uncomfortable sense of deja-vu. 

Reaching out, Izuku’s fingertips graze the display overhead. The second his fingers physically touch it, a sensation of strong static travels through his nerves as the area he touched begins glitching. The sound of the universal error signal strikes something buried deep within him, and Izuku’s vision fades to something too familiar.

The Sludge Villain tightens its vice-grip on Izuku’s throat, and the black spots completely take over his vision. He can almost hear the silence of the real world through the muffled and ringing of his hearing, and Izuku can too hear the tacit word ‘quirkless’ echoing through his head, bouncing off every corner in his mind and deepening the already-existing indents. The slime firmly wrapped around his wrist pulls a certain way, and Izuku’s sure that it's been broken — dislocated, at least.

Izuku can barely think — but one solemn, diluted realisation repeats itself within his head like an internal mantra. He endures every word, sharp and piercing as he just lets himself feel for the last time. Izuku is aware of his impending death, and he can feel it in the way his body slowly shuts down: starting with his sense of vision.

I wish… I could have another chance.

! NOTIFICATION

[ The Secret Quest:

“Courage of the Weak.” ]

COMPLETED

! NOTIFICATION

You have required the qualifications

to be a Player. Will you accept?

! NOTIFICATION

Your heart will stop in 0.02 seconds

If you choose not to accept.

Will you accept?

[ YES ]    [ NO ]

! NOTIFICATION

[ YES ]

Selected. Activating System …

COMPLETED

He remembers now. Izuku remembers that the screens first appeared after he’d been tossed out of the slime — the moment he died. The reminder surfaces that all-too-familiar sense of repressed existential dread, but he manages to push it down, again. It’s apparent now that the current screen floating above him is not random, nor a doctor’s quirk. It’s an intentional message, one that was destined to him before his death. If Izuku wants to find out exactly what happened to him: how this screen brought him back from the permanent state of death — he figures he should start with opening the messages.

Izuku begins muttering, attempting to organise his thoughts, “In video games, they notify you about stuff. When you level up, something enters your inventory… to see these notifications, there’s usually a separate section where they’re all compiled… all unchecked messages, you usually have to open the inbox —”

! NOTIFICATION

[ You have become a Player. ]

[ Daily Quest:

“Strength Training has arrived.” ]

! NOTIFICATION

This system is designed to assist

the development of the Player.

! NOTIFICATION

Failure to comply with the system

may result in a penalty.

! NOTIFICATION

The rewards have been delivered.

Izuku somewhat remembers all this ‘player’ stuff — yet still squints at the screens, attempting to decode the meaning of all these messages.

! QUEST INFO

[ Daily Quest:

“Strength Training has arrived.” ]

“Uhm… con — confirm?”

GOAL

Push-ups        [ 0 / 100 ]

Sit-ups            [ 0 / 100 ]

Squats            [ 0 / 100 ]

Running        [ 0 / 10km ]

WARNING: Failure to complete

the daily quest will result in

an appropriate penalty.

5:24:54 / 24h

Izuku chuckles nervously, his head twisting from side to side as he attempts to gauge whether or not someone is around the corner, trying to tease him. There’d been a couple instances where the other kids at school would play jokes on him, using their quirks to convince him he’d awakened his own. The sudden recollection results in Izuku bowing his head in shame, the tips of his ears heating up as he considers the probability that someone would be playing a joke on him in the hospital.

“Uhm — whoever this is, could you please not? I’m sorry, but —”

The realisation that Izuku could possibly be talking to no one right now overshadows his previous suspicions, and he simply sighs before wrapping the duvet around him a little tighter. He mutters unintelligible, mindless muses as he attempts to fall asleep, “Not really funny… I hope Kacchan is okay… I’m pretty sure he was conscious when I got him out the sludge… but maybe…”

Izuku closes his eyes before he could finish his thoughts, allowing the fatigue take over him.

! NOTIFICATION

[ Daily Quest:

“Strength Training has arrived.” ]

FAILED

0:00:00 / 24h

Izuku awakes clutching his chest, scrambling to heave himself up from the sandy ground. Sandy? His head swivels around in shock as he takes in the sight of… Takoba Beach. He recognises the park, located near his apartment. It’s always been quite messy, littered with junk and waste. The tide is shallow at this time of day, and Izuku is thoroughly confused.

His eyes catch onto a passer-by: an old woman walking past, weakly clutching onto her walking aid. It’s odd for elderly people to be out at such a time; based on the colour of the sky and the position of the moon, Izuku presumes it has to be past nine in the afternoon. He attempts to yell out to her, but she doesn’t bat an eye. Izuku runs up to her, about to ask for help, but an invisible barrier stops him as he runs head first and drops to the ground like a fly.

The lady continues walking slowly, and that allows Izuku to assume that she cannot see him. It’s likely that no one can see him, and Izuku is entirely stumped.

He’s about to take a seat on a lone table embedded into the sand, but the sound of a haunting giggle halts him.

[ Rank D SPEED-QUIRKED ENEMY ]

Izuku turns, eyes wide in horror as he catches a glimpse of a… figure. Whatever just dashes across the sand is pitch black, like an opaque shadow. It looks about his height, maybe slightly taller. The only distinguishable features on its entire body are the haunting whites of its eyes and completely white smile. It has no irises or pupils, just complete, white null. It has no teeth, just a blinding-white void inside the hollow chamber of its mouth — permanently fixed into a wide, uncanny smile.

! QUEST INFO

[ Penalty Quest:

“Defeat the Enemy.” ]

GOAL

Restrain the enemy within the allocated time.

2:23:59:43 / 72h

Like a missile, the figure runs across the beach with inhuman speed once again — managing to evade all the obstacles scattered across the terrain. It somehow darts across to the other side of the barrier in under a couple seconds, skidding into the invisible blockade. Its sudden dash causes a large cloud of sand to appear, concealing the figure for a brief moment and making the eerie chuckle it emits all-the-more-terrifying.

Izuku blinks, and the figure is suddenly in front of him. It charges at him, knocking him off balance with the force and animalistic speed it wields once it collides with his shoulder. He stumbles, clutching the area it just struck as he watches it soar dozens of feet across the beach. 

It rebounds back at him like a slingshot. Izuku thinks the whiplash he receives might’ve given him a concussion. His brain slows, barely keeping up with visually tracking the figure — nevermind trying to create a feasible plan. 

Okay, the goal is to restrain. So, technically, all I have to do is stop it from using its quirk — if that thing is even human, Izuku schemes. If it's not human, could he even call whatever it can do a quirk? Either way, he just has to pin it to the floor, tire it out or make sure it can’t run anymore.

How hard could it be?

! NOTIFICATION

[ Penalty Quest:

“Defeat the Enemy.” ]

COMPLETED

2:20:08:31 / 72h

“Oh my God, he’s here!” Izuku can barely perceive the blurry frame of a nurse in the open doorway of his room. Her scream alerts three other doctors who have been searching for Izuku for the last two hours. They watch in mild horror and extreme bewilderment as Izuku heaves on the hospital floor, caked in sweat and dirt and sand? He retches, projectile vomiting all over the tiles, before promptly passing out.

Chapter Text

          ‘HPSC OFFERS ¥1,000,000 REWARD FOR PERSON WHO IDENTIFIES HERO BYSTANDER WHICH BRANG QUIRKLESS BOY BACK TO LIFE’ reads the back of his mothers newspaper in big, bold letters. The text almost seems as if it's glaring at him, and Izuku is unsure whether or not his mother knows that he can see the contents of the paper. It’s practically like rubbing salt in the wound; Izuku doesn’t know whether he should cry or laugh.

Cry, because his name is featured inside a nation-wide newspaper. It’s been released not even twenty-four hours after the confirmation, and Izuku is honestly astounded with the HPSC’s punctuality. There's most likely photographs of his face too, and a whole tailored narrative: painting Izuku as a fraud or something absurd like that. 

Laugh, because no one knows the actual truth. The HPSC is chasing a ghost — an imaginary idea that they simply hope to become true. They designed a preferred situation: one which was so unlikely, yet harbours the slightest chance of being true — granting them the perfect opportunity to scout people with powerful quirks. If this ‘hero bystander’ existed, Izuku would feel unbelievably bad for them; the headline sounds more like a bounty than a recruitment.

After around an hour of picking at his duvet and fidgeting with his hands, his mother leaves. The sun which has been filtering through the panes of the window in sparse rays brightens once she stands up. Her exit is completely silent, devoid of all loving reassurance and get-well-soon gifts a parent should leave. His eyes tear up slightly at the lack of gesture, but he manages to swallow it down. Izuku has much more pressing matters — ones which are quite literally staring him in the face.

! QUEST INFO

[ Daily Quest:

“Strength Training has arrived.” ]

GOAL

Push-ups        [ 0 / 100 ]

Sit-ups            [ 0 / 100 ]

Squats            [ 0 / 100 ]

Running        [ 0 / 10km ]

WARNING: Failure to complete

the daily quest will result in

an appropriate penalty.

15:39:16 / 24h

The same, ominous message is plastered on the translucent screen. The objective is made pretty clear; Izuku must complete the ‘goal’ before the timer runs out. He has around fifteen hours left, and he acknowledges it's better for him to do it now than later.

The first three goals should be easy enough to complete: he can just do them in his room (Izuku might just be slightly overestimating his stamina). However, the fourth goal scares him slightly — how is he supposed to run ten kilometers when he’s in a hospital with doctors who are under the assumption that there might be something still wrong with him?

Of course, he doubts they care that much. Doctor Tanaka has already withdrawn from his room, replacing himself with another doctor who seems to be just as perpetually disgusted with Izuku. The cleaner avoids looking at Izuku whatsoever, nevermind starting a conversation. He also guesses the nice nurse probably resigned too, and that isn’t too much of a surprise now. Everyone who was nice to him when they were under the impression that he had a quirk resorted back to their old judgement at the freshly released news.

“— Hey Midoriya, how have you been doing?” A familiar voice causes Izuku to freeze. “Sorry I haven’t visited, sweetheart; there was a big villain attack on the local bridge, so the emergency room was in chaos yesterday. I’m so sorry about what happened, I’ve heard the awful stuff people have been saying. Are you okay?” The empathetic tone she speaks in causes a wave of relief to pass over Izuku, entirely engulfing him in solace; he hasn’t lost the one person who isn’t revolted by his very existence.

“I’ve been doing alright, ma’am. My mother just visited, and I feel better. I think I can go home soon.” Izuku sheepishly murmurs, still overwhelmed by the immense kindness the nurse continues to exhibit. The former statement is a complete and total lie, but Izuku would rather suffer than burden the one woman who cares for him — potentially more than his mother at this moment.

“That’s good to hear. You don’t have to call me ma’am, honey — just call me Yuka. There’s some visitors for you downstairs: a woman by the name of ‘Mitsuki Bakugou’ and her family. Would you like me to send them up to your room?” Her voice is cautious and gentle, but even her tender tone fails to stop Izuku from freezing up in panic. His hands clench the fabric of the blanket from instinct and head lowers in shame as he just renders the matter which has been pressing relentlessly on his mind, yet he wasn’t able to fully identify.

“Um, Miss Yuka, is Kacc— Katsuki okay? Katsuki Bakugou — the boy who was attacked with me. I thought I got him out safe, but I'm not a hundred percent sure so I was just wondering because —”

“Dear, he’s fine. He’s still here — only got admitted with some bruises, burns and some of the sludge in his stomach. He was downstairs with his mother when she asked, actually.” She reassures, smiling gently down at him in a way that makes Izuku’s heart clench with unfamiliar warmth and tenderness. She reaches forward, tenderly patting him on the shoulder, before retreating and waiting for his response to her previous question. 

Izuku freezes — eyes darting to the area she just willingly touched. Unlike Yoshida, she doesn’t mercilessly grab onto his shoulder with the sole intent of ridding his quirkless diagnosis. She doesn’t indifferently stare at him while she callously inflicts pain onto him, nor does she wipe her hands onto a nearby surface afterwards.

Unlike Bakugou, she doesn’t use her quirk on him or beat him until she leaves star-shaped scars onto his already marred skin. Nurse Yuka brushes her hand against his shoulder with compassion that is so, so soft and almost unreal — and Izuku almost cries. He nods bashfully as she tilts her head patiently, and he waits in constrained disquietude as she leaves to beckon the Bakugous over.

Izuku contemplates what Mitsuki might want to speak to him about. Perhaps — no, she most definitely already is well aware of his supposed new quirk. He’s unsure whether word has completely spread out that he doesn’t possess said quirk apart from that official newspaper, but it's not far-fetched to believe so. If she hasn’t heard, It’s very possible that she wants to question him about it — considering the fact that she has barely seen him since he was five and she probably wants to ask why it awakened so late like everyone else or maybe she thinks that Izuku hid it from everyone and —

“Izuku, honey, oh my God — are you alright?” The emphatic woman practically ran into the room, arms spread wide in alarm as she rushed towards his bedside. “Oh, sweetheart. What you did — I’m never going to be able to repay you, Izuku. Anything you ever need, you come to me, okay?  You were terribly stupid and reckless — but I’m so, very grateful. Thank you, Izuku.”

The tangent spills from her lips as a mixture of a lecture and commendation, eyebrows cinched together in blatant worry as she fusses over the flimsy fabric of the hospital gown and the thin layer of sweat across his forehead. Following her heartfelt rant, Masaru enters with a small, grateful smile fixed on his lips. His hand is firmly wrapped around his sons, who begrudgingly enters the room with a scowl and eyes wandering everywhere but Izuku.

“Mitsuki is right, Izuku. We will forever be indebted to you.” Marasu remarks kindly, bowing down whilst speaking to show his indefinite thankfulness. Mitsuki nods enthusiastically, hands clasped together as she leans forward. “Has Inko visited yet? Doesn’t look like she left anything — ah, yes, what’s all that about your new quirk? I mean, it’s everywhere on the news last time I checked! No wonder a quirk like that went undetected, it’s incredible!”

“I’m quirkless, Mitsuki-san.” Izuku states like a broken record. The words exit his mouth like a pre-recorded message, and he watches passively as her small smile slightly dissipates and she stiffens. Marasu’s eyes widen slightly, and Katsuki can’t conceal the way that his narrowed eyes slacken in shock, yet the curl of his upper lip remains.

“The tests came back negative. It’s presumed someone in the crowd had a long distance healing quirk. The newspaper came out just this morning, haven’t you heard?” His tone is somehow even and detached at the same time — yet slightly patronising at the realisation that the Bakugous also divulged an unconscious display of diluted revulsion at the taboo word. 

Mitsuki Bakugou’s breathing stutters, swallowing in thought before she speaks up yet again, “No, I haven’t. Sorry Izuku, it just caught me by surprise. Isn’t that fine, though? It just means nothing's changed; you’re still the same Izuku that I’ve watched grow up. Now, you’ve simply done something heroic that the people with quirks who vowed to protect people like you didn't even have the guts to do.” Her blunt proclamation breaks Izuku’s guarded facade, and his vision hazes with unshed tears as she continues.

“You did something that four pro heroes didn’t have the nerve to do. If people cannot grasp that, then they’re just as shallow and flat as they look. You gave everything when you had nothing — and that's more than enough, Izuku.”

Her anger towards everyone who wronged him resembles the fury of a mother, and his heart thuds at the compassion he digests at the sincere indignation she expresses. She surely realises that the words spark something inside of Izuku, as she smiles with the gentlest smile he has ever seen from her.

Suddenly, Marasu coughs, eyes glimmering with suggestion as he glances at his wife. Her brows furrow in confusion until something seemingly surfaces in her memory, and she walks towards Katsuki. She clasps her hand around the collar of his hospital gown, grip firm as she harshly whispers something into his ear which faintly sounds like ‘If I come back in here and there is one tear on his face, I will disown you.’

The Bakugous exit the room in silence, leaving behind their son. Katsuki stands stiffly in the corner, body tense and fists clenched impossibly firmly to the point where they’re visibly shaking. His face is obscured with tufts of his hair, head slightly downcast.

The atmosphere fills with palpable tension and unease, yet both boys continue to be silent. The unsettling tranquility arises Izuku’s incessant anxiety and the urge to fill the unbearable stillness becomes almost excruciating, his mouth opening in an attempt to satiate the source of his nerves, “I’m really glad you’re not hurt, Kacchan —”

“Shut up.”

The utterance exits his mouth sounding raw and dissonant. Katsuki heaves like the words took his strength from him, yet still continues standing eerily still, even as his chest begins to contract painfully and his nails dig into the flesh of his palm.

Izuku recoils, eyes widening in concern and uncertainty at the change of state Katsuki shifts to within a mere minute. Questions and consolations prepare to be spilled out of Izuku’s mouth again, but Katsuki beats him to it.

“My mum saw the video of me being attacked. I mean — who hasn’t at this point?" He scoffs, tone fluctuating from somewhat-confidence to veiled vulnerability, “She heard what I said to you. First thing she did when she got to the hospital was question me on why I said that to you — why I called you that. She wouldn’t let it go and she forced it out of me. Now she’s set me up with a fucking therapist or counselor or something — same damn thing.”

His restraint morphs into something more fervent — something disorderly erupting from being buried for so long, “But that’s not even the part that really gets me, Deku. Everything was videoed — it’s probably on damn international news at this point. Everyone saw me getting my ass handed to me by a ball of slime — and they saw you saving me. A quirkless nobody fought a villain and did more damage than I did.”

“Why should a null like you get to rescue me? I don’t need anyone saving me, dammit!” He spits out the harsh sentence, hanging his head down in an undistinguishable mixture of rage and shame. 

“Kacchan — you do know that it’s okay to ask for help sometimes, right?” Izuku reassures, sitting up to face Bakugou fully, who growls a choked sneer and shakes his head in disbelief. Katsuki lifts his chin to stare at the boy before him, his brain conjuring up all sorts of insults and slurs to hurl back at him. 

But nothing comes out — only the understanding of the harsh reality that Deku, the feeble boy with no power whatsoever, has more guts than him. This puny brat, who has been nothing but a leech for his entire life, risked his life for him. The thought is so utterly ironic; Katsuki has been blessed with this immensely destructful quirk to save people — but in the end, he couldn’t even save himself. He’s only ended up causing even more trouble than necessary. 

It’s humiliating; the thought of everyone seeing him in such a weak state wrecked his mind — he isn’t weak. He’s strong, he is supposed to be brave, supposed to be the one who saves people with no struggle. 

“I don’t need a loser like you to give me pity — listen here, Deku, I’ll only tell you this once, so get it through that thick skull of yours. You are nothing, you will never be powerful — you’re just a quirkless nobody who will never be wanted by anyone.” Bakugo asserts, giving Izuku no time to respond before he furiously walks out of the room and slams the door behind him. 

Katsuki seethes, stomping down the hallway in unrestrained fury. Tears collect at the corner of his eyes, but he wills them away. A pungent taste of metal lingers in his mouth, realising that he’d bitten his lips to the point of breaking through skin. 

Izuku sighs, blinking away the tears rapidly accumulating in his eyes. He stares at the fixed door, awaiting for a miracle in which Bakugou comes back and confides in him or a shift to an alternate universe where he comes back and apologises.

Nothing happens.

Izuku redirects his attention towards the impervious screen, still displaying the same unchanging message from earlier this morning. His plan, too, has not been changed — completing the first three goals should be easy enough to do in his hospital room.

Despite the traces of the tense atmosphere still lingering in the room like they want to sink into the walls, Izuku manages to push through the unceasing feelings of uneasiness and somewhat dread and focus on the task at hand.

Izuku figures it’s better to get it done sooner than later, now extremely aware of the consequences from ignoring this quest.

Reckoning the sit-ups will take the least endurance from him, Izuku begins doing the exercise in the very corner of the room. The abdominal muscles are quite small, so he finds it safe to assume that it’ll be the least physically taxing. Obviously, Izuku overestimates himself, as he finds himself heaving on the floor by the half-way mark.

Despite being in intense pain, Izuku still finds himself pulling his worn body up in order to peek into the window connecting his room to the corridor. For some reason, he finds himself deathly afraid of being caught by a nurse or doctor. Internally, the potential occurrence in which he is caught and may have to make up a lie and say that he’s trying to get stronger in order to avoid the dubious truth that he’s being forced by a random system which brought him back to life brings him much more shame than he’s willing to admit.

After another twenty minutes, Izuku’s stomach screams in pain as he shifts into a standing position to complete the squats. It’s better sooner than later, he tells himself as he nearly collapses on the first descention. He shifts himself further into the corner and lightly presses his back into the cabinet in fear of being seen through the large panes of the window, yet continuing the laborious drill. 

It takes him a further thirty minutes, with multiple breaks due to overexertion and a few instances where his vision blackened on the way down, to complete the squats. For some odd reason, the muscles on his arms ache equally as much as his hamstrings, quadriceps and other muscles. Izuku is brazenly reminded once again that his lack of physical stamina is outstanding. 

Pushing his barely functioning body, he shifts into the push-up position and attempts one, measly rep.

Izuku collapses as soon as he lowers himself an inch.

He assumes that he has passed out after he had crumbled to the floor, as the timer glares at him like a bright-red warning disguised as a single digit hour. The room is now dimly lit by the hallway lights and streetlights casting a faint glow into the room, and the screen still lingers as a stable constant above him.

! QUEST INFO

[ Daily Quest:

“Strength Training has arrived.” ]

GOAL

Push-ups        [ 0 / 100 ]

Sit-ups         [ 100 / 100 ]

Squats         [ 100 / 100 ]

Running        [ 0 / 10km ]

WARNING: Failure to complete

the daily quest will result in

an appropriate penalty.

5:02:39 / 24h

Sighing, he pulls himself up using the edge of the granite counter. His arms ache considerably more since he’s taken his forced nap, but he pushes the feeling of uncomfortability down and walks towards his red shoes. His legs hurt just as much, but he rationalises the thought by reminding himself that the push-ups will hurt his arms more when he has to try to re-do the exercise, so he might as well try to complete the running first.

Izuku attempts to block out all building embarrassment and shame as he begins sprinting through the mostly vacant, dimly lit corridors, shoes dragging against the vinyl of the hospital floor. He immediately gets a couple odd looks from doctors occupying patient rooms, and lowers his head in shame as he continues.

Suddenly, his body is thrown backwards as he collides with something hard. His panicked eyes manage to make out the figure of someone extremely built before his head clashes with the vinyl. “Hey, son — what’re you doing running at this time?” A gruff voice aggressively speaks as he's hoisted up from the floor, coming face-to-chest with a burly guard. 

The blood drains Izuku’s face as he makes eye contact with the man, whose expression twists with disdain as he comes to recognise Izuku. He must have heard the recent news too, as he begins carelessly dragging Izuku back to his room by the sleeve of his hospital gown.

Callously, the man practically throws Izuku into his hospital bed and exits the room with a scoff — not before slamming his palm against the hand sanitiser dispenser next to the door multiple times and rubbing the disinfectant into his skin like it’s his saving grace.

Izuku pants, closing his eyes in defeat as he reluctantly accepts the consequence that he’s sure will face him in five hours. He lets the black spots creep into his hazy vision and allows sleep to envelop him whole, potentially sacrificing his sanity for the few hours of sleep he’s guaranteed to receive.

! NOTIFICATION

[ Daily Quest:

“Strength Training has arrived.” ]

FAILED

0:00:00 / 24h

Once again, Izuku awakes with a start. He springs up from the charred concrete beneath him, immediately spinning around and scanning the area he spawned in. The towering buildings, wide road and feeling of nausea render in his mind as he finally becomes accustomed to recognising the place he’d been set to do his task: the city centre, where he died.

The bile stirs in his stomach like a bad omen as he resists the urge to hurl and crawl into a ball and simply close his eyes. The miserable, creeping thought that maybe Izuku should’ve stayed dead here slips into his mind stealthily, encompassing his already ceasing drive in shrouded doubts and qualms. 

His eyes stay vigilant despite the horrible, horrible thoughts engulfing his every fiber of being as he attempts to distract himself by finding the enemy he’ll be tasked to defeat. His eyes scan the barren pavement, eyebrows eventually knitting together in confusion as he sees… nothing?

The same, eerie giggle resurfaces somewhere from beside him and Izuku’s heart lurches in his chest. His head snaps to the side, wide eyes searching from the origin but still, he sees nothing. The childish, yet scarily deep snicker sounds from right in front of him as the text suddenly pops up right in front of his very eyes.

[ Rank E INVISIBILITY-QUIRKED ENEMY ]

Izuku almost screams.

Chapter Text

          According to multiple studies, the average time it takes to form a habit is sixty-six days. However, this statistic can vary significantly, as the total range can scale from eighteen days to two-hundred and fifty-four days. Several confounding variables which are extremely likely to impact the formation of habits are: Individual variation, the complexity of the habit in general, and consistency — all these factors heavily influence which end of the range you may end up on.

In Izuku’s circumstance, he reckons it’ll take considerably longer than just sixty-six days. Creating the habit of completing a daily quest which greatly surpasses his entire life's worth of physical activity is most definitely on the higher end of habit extremities. 

But, citing the famous words of All Might (which he probably shouldn’t abide by so faultlessly now, considering what the man said to him), Plus Ultra.

Izuku gingerly ties the strings of his favourite red sneakers tighter, smiling in determination. A small laugh sounds through the hospital room, belonging to nurse Yuka. “Going on another one of those runs, are you, Izuku?”

She smiles widely as she speaks to him, glancing at the look of courage on his face. She keeps her eyes on him, even as she easily refills the water in the vase on his bedside table, keeping the vivid tulips Katsuki’s parents had given him just yesterday from wilting. The sun shines through the panes of the window in bright, stark rays — and Izuku feels the slightest bit more joyful.

It's been three days since Katsuki’s divulgence-slash-decleration, and Izuku decided to mold the advice that Bakugou gave him into a curt form of motivation. Parts of what he said aren’t necessarily untrue; If Izuku does nothing with the second chance this system is giving him, he will become nothing. It’s inevitable.

However, he was wrong about one thing: Izuku does have the potential to be powerful. This System — whatever it offers, in whatever ways it does them — is undeniably potent.

Speaking to him through screens which are invisible to others, sending him to random places in Musutafu to defeat villains which aren’t even human as a penalty quest, giving him rewards that are actually tangible and he can actually interact with physically if he completes the daily quest, bringing him back from the dead — the abilities of the System are truly otherworldly.

Physically, metaphorically, according to all laws of physics and all known quirks — the System shouldn't be possible. 

Yet, the screens float above him at all times, bright and clear.

For the past two days, Izuku has successfully completed the Daily Quest. One of the rewards he receives is full recovery. As the name suggests, it recovers his body from the physical activity he just completed. It renews his stamina and energy — as if he never really exercised at all.

The second reward it grants him is ability points. Both times, Izuku has been given three. The system automatically opens up his status, allowing him to contribute the points to his stats.

The third and final reward it grants him is a ‘random lootbox’. So far, it has only given him generally useless, ordinary items: a clicky pen, and a roll of bandage. These items automatically go to his inventory, which has three available slots.

! STATUS

LEVEL 1

Title: None

HP: [ 100 / 100 ]     EP: [ 10 / 10 ]

Fatigue : [ 0 ]

STR: 16                        VIT: 10

INT: 10                         AGI: 10

PER: 10               [ 0 ] Available

                           Ability points

Luckily enough, it seems as if he’s started off with ten points on each stat individually. He’s only received six in total so far, but he plans on storing them towards his strength, just in case he has to complete another penalty quest. Izuku shivers just thinking about the idea.

“ —and your runs. Everyone is quite shocked and confused, honestly. But you shouldn’t worry about them, sweetheart. Though, if I may ask, why are you exercising?"

Izuku halts right after looping the second bunny ear of his laces, head blank as he renders the question. He hasn’t come up with a plausible lie yet. His previous thoughts rebound through his head as he searches for a believable answer, and his mind stops on a singular thought that ran through his brain just a couple minutes ago. The fabrication exits his mouth too quickly, “Habits.”

Nurse Yuka chuckles, shaking her head in soft disbelief. “Habits? Really, honey? You looked like you were minutes away from a heatstroke during yesterday's run.” She reasons humorously. Izuku panics once again, mind reeling, “Just trying to create habits, ma’am. Start anew, y’know? Get to live again, so might as well start a new habit? Right?” He reiterates, the dark joke attempting to simultaneously distract her and make light of the unspoken situation.

Nurse Yuka visibly blanches.

Izuku awkwardly smiles at the woman, shoving his hands into the pockets of his joggers as he gets up from his kneeling position. Izuku nods, “Thank you, Ms.Yuka. I know I’m being discharged later today, so I’d just like to say I really appreciate what you’ve done for me.” 

As he walks out, he misses the stunned expression on her face.

Having previously done the first three goals on the list earlier this morning, Izuku begins running along the outside campus of the hospital. Turns out that being injured and simultaneously being presumed to possess a potent quirk automatically gets you a ticket to one of Japan’s best and most spacious hospitals.

Izuku finds that the scenery is extremely nice to look at as he sprints past; it’s pretty clear that the vegetation and flowers are well taken care of. They clutter the sides of the winding pavement in large, wooden planters and in neat rows alongside the straight paths. Focused on sightseeing, Izuku fails to notice the groups of nurses and medical staff pointing at him and whispering.

However, the distraction seems to be worth-while as Izuku finishes the run in just under eighty minutes — a record for him in the two days of experience he has to compare to. Truly, Izuku believes the only thing that kept him running with minimal breaks was the reminder that he's guaranteed to receive a full recovery.

The sun's powerful rays beat down at him in intense beams, and Izuku pants ceaselessly at his Daily Quest menu updates to show that he’s completed all goals.

The text hovers above him in clear, bold letters like a reward itself, and he feels rejuvenated as the full recovery activates. His body feels as if it physically lightens, his hunched posture naturally fixing itself as he sits up on a wooden bench.

! NOTIFICATION

[ Daily Quest:

“Strength Training has arrived.” ]

COMPLETED

Check your reward?

[ YES ]    [ NO ]

! QUEST REWARDS

You got rewards.

[  1. Full Recovery        ]

[  2. Ability Points+3     ]

[  3. Random LootBox  ]

Accept these rewards?

[ YES ]    [ NO ]

His mother comes to pick him up at half-past-five — an entire thirty minutes late. She signs the discharge papers with a guarded expression, barren of all excitement and relief a mother should be feeling. She silently stands in the corner of the room, nose practically buried into the screen of her phone as Izuku packs his few belongings into a duffel bag and hauls it onto his shoulder.

He can feel his heart breaking the longer she refuses to acknowledge him. 

They board the train back to Mustuafu in silence. It takes off from the station, and they remain in silence. Izuku’s mother breaks her streak of refusal to speak by calling the taxi, however reverts back to her uncommunicative state once the phone call ends. They stand in silence as they wait for the taxi to arrive — and the quiet feels as if it’s utterly consuming Izuku.

Izuku and his mother arrive back at home at quarter-past-seven. The apartment is quieter and tidier than Izuku remembers it; the kitchen has been reorganised, and the dust has seemingly disappeared from the higher surfaces that he and his mum could never quite reach. 

His mother immediately resigns to her bedroom. Izuku heats up the leftovers he finds left in the fridge, eating at the small table in silence. He notices that the large, framed photo above the sofa has been changed — once being a photo of Izuku when he was around seven, squealing at his All Might themed birthday cake in pure excitement, now contains a photograph of his father and mother at their wedding.

It's a professional photo — taken about a year or two before Izuku’s birth (from what his mother has told him). She looks extremely happy as she looks up at his father. The camera managed to capture the slight twinkle in her iris and the true crinkle of her eye, and her hand reaching out to caress his fathers jaw.

However, the photo was taken in such a way where his father’s face is cloaked away from the lens. All Izuku can note about his appearance is his dark green, curly hair. Darker than Izuku’s and his mothers.

Izuku swallows, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. He looks down at the plate, realising he’ll be unable to stomach the rest of the katsudon. The smell of it abruptly makes him nauseous, and he feels as if he has to rid his sight from the food at this instant or else he might actually vomit.

Scraping the remainder of the food into the bin, he quickly scrubs the bowl clean and puts it on the drying rack. His entire focus is put into leaving the room and divesting his sight from that photo. 

Izuku is terribly confused and hurt and conflicted — why does his mother still put all her dedication and hope into the same man who left them when he was merely two? He doesn’t send letters home, he doesn’t send money back from America or wherever he went — he doesn’t even call or facetime. Now that Izuku racks his brain further, he can’t recall a time where he actually saw his fathers face.

When Izuku thinks about his father, he envisions a man with an empty face. Sometimes it’s blurred, sometimes there's scribbles all over it, and sometimes it's just simply devoid of all features — like a blank canvas. He can’t imagine his voice, nor his facial features — not even his eyes. He pictures them as evil and heartless — just like his actions.

Izuku shakes his head, attempting to clear his mind of the man. That person doesn't even deserve to be thought about, Izuku reasons. He shuts the door to his room slightly too hard, and winces as he awaits his mothers usual, gentle call of “Izuku, don’t slam the door that hard!”.

Nothing.

The house continues to be eerily silent as he updates his stats. He puts the three points towards his strength, once again. The change within his body is apparent — despite not gaining any visible muscles or biceps yet, the skin is more taut around the alleged muscles and there is a decipherable change to where he can slightly see it dip into his tendon. Also, he simply feels stronger — although Izuku doesn’t want to overestimate himself (again).

Izuku decides to open his inventory. He’s only been given three slots so far, and it seems as if he can only put the objects that the system has given him into the said inventory. The image of the LootBox is clear and labelled in small text below, and the quiet mutter of the word ‘lootbox’ causes it to disappear from the third slot and appear in his hand. 

The viridian box spontaneously unfolds in his hand, releasing a radiant, gleaming sphere of light. It’s surrounded by some sort of static-like aura as it rises into the air, floating above Izuku’s head before visually combusting. Izuku scatters backwards in shock at the sudden appearance of the intense radiance in contrast to his dark room, his back painfully hitting against his headboard.

The luminescence disperses into thin air, revealing a silver key. The shape of it is somewhat fascinating: forged in a way that looks vintage, and most definitely would not fit into the latch of an ordinary door. It suddenly drops from above him, and Izuku lunges to catch the key on instinct. 

He grips the key, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he processes the sudden materialisation. 

Item: LOCATION KEY

Acquisition Difficulty: Rank E

Category:                        Key

A key for teleporting to a randomised

location in Musutafu. It can be used at

exit 3 of the Musutafu subway station.

Izuku’s eyes widen in unbound shock. His eyes scan over the text multiple times, trying to make sense of the information given to him. 

It’s labelled as a location key, and has an obtainment difficulty of E. Izuku presumes that means that it’s pretty easy to get, assuming that it's graded from A to E. He figures that would be the most universally understandable way of classifying the grade of an item, considering that is the way that heroes themselves and their skills are graded on multiple official websites. Maybe there’s even an S rank — like All Might’s ratings.

The category is a ‘key’, which isn’t entirely surprising as the pen he’d received two days ago was labelled as ‘miscellaneous’ and the bandage as ‘supplies’.

However, the description is what both simultaneously interests him and scares him the most. Its purpose is to teleport him to a randomised location in Musutafu — and Izuku is on the verge of becoming utterly horrified.

He can’t even begin to fathom a purpose he’d pose in a random location within Musutafu — nevermind a reason the System would like to send him there for. It provides additional information other than where to use it, and Izuku is glad that at least the listed place is a simple three minute walk from his apartment.

This is one of the few times he’s glad his mother needed to pick the most inexpensive place to live: happening to be beside one of the most rambunctious, overcrowded train stations.

It’s clear he’s going to have to sneak out — and Izuku has never been more grateful that he’s on the first floor. The idea eventually completely registers within Izuku’s brain, and suddenly his hands become clammy and the idle pit in his stomach grows exponentially because oh my God, Izuku has never snuck out. 

His panic deepens once he catches sight of the second screen that had appeared sometime after the first screen had loaded. He hadn’t seemed to notice it.

! NOTIFICATION

Key can only be used within

hours of: [ 20:00 - 06:00 ]

Almost immediately afterwards, a third screen pops up.

! NOTIFICATION

The System gifts you appropriate 

attire.

The System recommends wearing

it before leaving.

The dark coloured clothes suddenly materialise onto his lap with the residuals of a familiar glow, and Izuku nearly faints.

Izuku feels extremely uncomfortable. He’d changed into the clothes given to him — black combat boots, faded-black cargos, a very dark green hoodie (so dark green that it could be considered black unless it was under direct light), and a mask made of some strange, airy fabric.

He picks at the precise stitches of the additional, leather-like fingerless gloves he was given, thumbing the material. It seems as if every piece of clothing is high quality and thought out for whatever the system is planning to make him do.

From how it’s looking so far, Izuku’s worried that he’ll be forced to rob a bank or something. The attire conceals almost all of his features — excluding his eyes and his hair as long as he keeps the hood down.

However, at this time of day, he doubts that it’ll be that noticeable. As he walks down the faintly-lit district, he assesses his surroundings.

There’s not really anyone on the streets at this time besides a pair of drunk men loitering near an old bar, a few cars driving the opposite direction Izuku is walking, and a random, low rank hero. Izuku recognises him as he has previously searched the hero up because he’d seen him patrolling around his apartment a couple times. 

His quirk was interesting enough — Hero name: Reverb. Quirk: Echo-Location. Essentially, his quirk is super hearing with a couple additional attributes. Using his superhearing and the mechanical energy pulses he sends out, he can broadly chart out an area just simply by listening. Listening to heartbeats, steps, movement — Reverb can create an accurate map of the environment without looking up once.

However, with such a versatile and powerful quirk, comes restrictions. Izuku spent about an hour evaluating his quirk and finding limitations — not that he’d ever planned to use it for purposes such as trying to trick and deceive heroes, but it turns out to work in his favour.

His quirk requires complete concentration to be at its best. It simply documents the actual shape and movements of a person. Multiple noises at the same time can confuse him. 

Theoretically, if the hero’s schedule is akin to most other heroes and he’s been working approximately since midday, then there's a great chance he’s tired. Exhaustion leads to missing details, which leads to an inaccurate or incomplete creation of his mental map. 

If Izuku keeps his distance, then his face will be obscured enough to the point where the hero won’t be able to see his face — nevermind recognise it. At the possible occurrence in which Reverb may look behind him and see Izuku, then it’s unlikely that he’ll see the features his clothes don’t cover. If he doesn’t take action, of course.

Although, it is very possible that Reverb may turn around. Izuku’s heartbeat is erratic and unsteady with the anxiety of sneaking out, walking around at night alone and considering all the different outcomes that could arise tonight — starting from at this very moment as he tries to avoid Reverb, and ranging to wherever the hell this System is leading him to and what will happen when he gets back.

So, Izuku takes precautions. He times his steps to line up with the heroes, and walks closer to the road where the cars are passing. He hopes the proximity with the occasional cars and the timing of his steps mixing with the hero’s may drown out his own footsteps slightly. 

However, again, Izuku reminds himself there is no guarantee. Reverb's quirk can probably allow him to hear the rustling of his cargo pants that Izuku himself can’t even hear.

The couple minutes to the train station feels as if they stretch out into dozens — where Izuku unfortunately finds the hero walking in the same direction as him. He’s overly cautious of his movements, attempting multiple breathing exercises and simultaneously praying for the hero to not turn his head.

He’s dressed in a way that is sure to arouse suspicion from any hero who’s received training — not to mention his jittery movements stemming from the insidious anxiety growing in him. He really can’t take an alternate route, either. 

The only other two routes he is aware of are both risky and dangerous to walk through at night — considering he’s a quirkless, fourteen year old boy. His clothing is sure to provoke some villains at this time of night, too. It’s too risky to take of the mask at this point now as well, someone might’ve already saw him and —

The unease eats at Izuku’s every thought as his mind works at a thousand seconds per minute to scour every possibility and reasoning for what he can do next. He reestablishes the fact that the System is definitely not a quirk (considering all the tests he had done), and reminds himself that there’s no guarantee that it will help him if or when he’s in trouble.

The worry consumes him to the point where he barely realises that he’s made it to the train station. He recalls the specific location of exit three, and makes his way towards the entrance. His hands begin to shake unwillingly, but he pushes the physical response back into his head as he walks around the corner.

There's only a couple businessmen leaving the station and a couple young, riotous teens lingering around the entrance of the exit, and Izuku would rather not know what they’re planning to get up to. He holds his breath as he walks past them, his heart beginning to race as he notices them quieting down as he passes them. His clothes definitely do not help the situation.

They seem to forget about him as soon as he passes, luckily enough. The exit is illuminated by barely functioning lights embedded into the crumbling concrete. He doesn’t notice the blue tint of something akin to a quirk fortifying the entire archway until he walks through it. Izuku's head flies up at the realisation, panicking at the possible causes and outcomes.

The teens around the corner haven’t run up to him and robbed him yet — so, it’s unlikely that it’s their quirks doing. A floodgate of thoughts opens in his mind as he attempts to determine what he just walked through, and he almost slaps himself as he realises the system led him here. It's likely the System. 

His just-composed calmness quickly evaporates and transforms back to unruly panic as he watches the blue tint morph into some type of solid surface. The exit seals up right before his eyes, appearing as if stone constructs from the very corners of the arch and blooms towards the middle — creating something of the sort of an unbreakable forcefield.

Izuku slams his hands against the barrier, distress swallowing him whole.

! NOTIFICATION

You have entered 

Musutafu subway station.

Descend the stairs to enter

the Portal.

His eyes widen, throat going dry as his vision narrows onto the message. His peripheral vision barely catches the motion of another clueless businessman walking past, obliviously unreactive to Izuku’s manic nature as he simply walks through the barrier.

! NOTIFICATION

You cannot exit the station.

You must either enter the Portal

and complete your training quest

or use a teleportation stone.

So, I stepped into a different dimension or something, Izuku ponders, despite his overexerted brain aching. It reminds him terribly of the penalty quest where he was transported to an invisible box in the middle of some random place in the city and no one could see him apart from the thing there, and he quivers at the thought of experiencing one again.

It had taken him about four hours to beat the invisibility one — four hours of being thrown around and jeered at by an inhuman, undetectable ghost.

Izuku almost cries at the unjust revelation — he has beaten the Daily Quest in order to avoid the Penalty Quest, just to end up in a new situation that seems eerily similar to said Penalty Quest.

His heart neatly spasms as a second epiphany strikes his mind at the most inconvenient time — he wasn’t forced to come here. He received the lootbox, and it gave him a key. Sure, it gave him a specified time he could use it, but it didn’t say he had to use it.

Izuku has just tricked himself.

And — what the hell is a training quest? What is it training him for?

He forces himself to use the breathing exercises he had learned previously at the hospital and slowly descends the stairs, just as it has told him to. The steps seem boundless; he’s unable to see the end of them until after a long minute of walking. He hurries his strides and reaches the bottom.

At the bottom, there's a simple door. It’s wooden and looks out of place with the entire concrete interior — and Izuku’s heart jumps in his chest as he catches sight of the glinting, silver padlock. He takes the key out of his inventory and inserts it into the lock, twisting. He opens the door and steps through.

There's about three further feet of space before a plain, concrete wall. It’s around another three feet wide, with more concrete walls and a concrete ceiling. The only thing that’s not concrete in his line of vision is the portal.

The portal is oval and glowing a haunting purple. The deep violet whirls and winds and spirals into an illusion-like image. The vortex twists with hints of deep, endless black — and the sounds it emits are nothing short of otherworldly. It's almost like a hybrid of an airplane taking off and the sound of your ears ringing — but muted, muffled and somewhat corrupted. Izuku swears he can hear the familiar remnants of glitching: like a video game.

It emits wisps of violet-coloured matter that graze Izuku’s face — and the closer he gets, the warmer he feels. It radiates unearthly heat, and it feels as if he might enter hell if he steps any closer. For all Izuku knows, he might. 

His brain, conditioned to overthink and overanalyse every detail and hint a situation provides, feels as if it is mechanically overridden by his impulsive urge to step forward and into the vortex. 

It doesn’t feel like Izuku is controlling his body when his leg moves forward and treads the edge of the vortex. His entire body lurches forward like a factory overdrive — and he enters the portal.

His vision completely blackens.

! NOTIFICATION

You have entered 

Higashizaka street.

Izuku stumbles forward, shoes scuffing the cobbled pavement. His vision returns to him in tandem with all his other senses, but specifically accompanied with the sound of intense whirring — like an airplane taking off — and the same, haunting glitching.

The portal behind him shrinks within a mere second and disappears into thin air.

His eyes scan his surroundings on instinct, registering information and data which he finds relevant. Izuku doesn’t even know his objective here — he hopes the System will inform him soon, though. 

He notes that he’s in some sort of alleyway. The towering buildings and flats encase both of his sides, paving a narrow, direct path forward. The alleyway is characterised as a movie-classic scenario in which the protagonist would classically get into a fight, and there's overflowing dumpsters every now and then from what he can see ahead of him, beer bottles littering the skirts of the pavement, and a few, scattered streetlights flickering in and out — providing practically no light whatsoever. 

His steps are cautious and guarded as he advances through the passage, eyes alert and tentative. Izuku almost cringes at himself — he’s acting as if he could actually do anything if someone ran up on him right now and began a fight.

He isn’t even sure if the points he's put towards his strength have had any effect — he hasn’t had the chance to test them out.

! NOTIFICATION

A training quest has arrived.

! QUEST INFO

[ Training Quest: Patrol the streets of

Mustuafu. ]

GOAL

This area has a large amount

of villains and documented high

criminal activity.

Ensure their arrest to assure

everyone’s safety.

WARNING: If you do not

complete this quest, you will

receive appropriate penalties.

2:58:57 / 3h

Izuku halts, reading over the words carefully. He mulls over the choice of words — ‘patrol’ suggests simply just being on the lookout, or guarding it. Izuku doesn’t really know what the System expects: he’s practically quirkless.

‘Ensure their arrest’ implies that Izuku has to make certain that these villains are arrested by police or heroes. He isn’t quite sure how he’ll accomplish that as dexterously as he wants to if the situation arises — calling them would be quite inconvenient if they can just track the phone call back to him.

He also isn’t sure if there's a limit on the minimum or maximum amount of villains he must make sure get arrested. 

It seems as if Izuku thinks too soon as the sound of pained grunts enter his ears as he nears the end of the alleyway. There’s a building at the end and no other visible exit and Izuku’s confused for the slightest second — before he catches sight of the tall fence to the right. 

More shrieks and cries echo throughout the desolate passage, and it seems as if Izuku’s body moves before he can think. He has no quirk, no understanding of the system and how it can help him (or if it even will), and no proper plan — yet, he jumps over the chain-linked fence with swiftness he’s unaware of and agility he surely does not possess.

! QUEST INFO

[ Urgent Quest: Restrain the Enemies. ]

GOAL

You have encountered villains

which are harming a civilian.

Ensure civilians are safe and

the villains get arrested.

WARNING: If you do not

complete this quest, you will

receive appropriate penalties.

Number of enemies restrained:

[ 0 / 3 ] Immediate enemies

His eyes immediately catch onto each person, noting down their role in this ongoing crime and physical characteristics which may possibly correlate to their quirk.

After all, this is Izuku’s specialty.

The victim — who seems to be getting strangled by a scarily disparate man — has a singular, physical attribute that allows Izuku to immediately assume that he has a heteromorph quirk. Bunny ears sprout from the top of his head, and Izuku runs through data within his mind. He’s glad he had re-evaluated Mirko’s quirk page a couple weeks ago, as he now has a vague idea of what he can do.

Considering the fact that the man continues to flail around and not fight back properly, it’s easy for Izuku to determine that his quirk does not bear the same strength and skill akin to Mirko’s.

However, it is still very likely that he holds one trait all rabbits are known to hold: swiftness, speed. If Izuku could just get the men away from him, then he could just tell him to run. Then he won't have to worry about collateral damage — assuming he could inflict enough damage in the first place.

The man actively attacking the victim has one, visible distinction which also gives away his quirk: his bulging, large arm. It’s disproportionate to the size and visible muscle-mass in comparison to the rest of his body (which is being illuminated by very dimly-lit street lights, so Izuku takes his own assumption with a grain of salt).

The villain continues choking the rabbit man with his comically sized forearm. Izuku assumes that his quirk has something to do with enhancing the strength of a single limb, and moves onto the next villain.

The said villain jeers in deluded excitement as he raises his fist up into the air, cheering. Said fist is also comically large, but tinged a red-hot colour which is definitely an attribute of his quirk. And the final villain, who remains on the sidelines of the crime, resembles the features of a bear.

Despite being uninvolved in the actual fight, Izuku guesses he acts as a guard in the case that any pro heroes come. He figures this assumption is pretty accurate, as Izuku finds himself face-to-face with this man as soon as he turns the corner after jumping the fence.

The villain has paws. Paws, which look to be twice the size of Izuku’s hands and have large claws stemming from the nailbeds. He also has an extremely large build, which is incredibly hard to not notice, considering he is currently towering over Izuku easily by at least two feet. His body is sparsely covered in fur from what Izuku can see in the dim light, and he has distinct muscles.

Izuku almost sobs on the spot, but forces himself to act. His arm reaches out to shove the man to the side as he understands that he only has a few seconds to take action. Izuku got lucky by catching the bear-quirked villain whilst he’s unprepared, and he’d be stupid to not take advantage of it.

It seems as if the points he’s been putting towards his strength in his stats do have an effect, as the villain lets out a noise akin to a growl and stumbles to the side.

Izuku definitely wouldn’t have been able to do that a month ago.

Izuku considers his first priority removing the rabbit-quirked man from the fight, meaning that he has to interact with the man who is currently choking him.

As quickly as his brain allows him to, Izuku begins evaluating his quirk. The ability to concentrate all strength into a singular limb is an incredibly potent quirk if used correctly — and Izuku must assume that the villain has a good understanding of his own quirk.

As much as he would like to stop himself from thinking about the man, he remembers All Might’s interview where he was asked to give words of advice to civilians. He advised that it’s always better to overestimate your opponent than underestimate them; overestimating guarantees your ability to walk out of the fight.

Obviously, all the villain’s power will be focused onto his arm which has his quirk activated — in this case, his right arm. That doesn’t mean that his other limbs are weak; they may have normal strength, but his right arm has enhanced strength and high efficiency. That’s clear to any person with a brain.

As well as being an immensely formidable weapon, it can also be used as defense. The mass and density of his muscles can act as a shield, making it easier for the villain to block Izuku’s advancements and attacks.

However, with all quirks come weaknesses; it’s inevitable.

The intense mass on one side likely makes his body imbalanced. His right side being weighed down by the hulking muscles in his arm means that his mobility may be sluggish and uneven, making it easier to catch him off balance by targeting his left side or manipulating his right side.

On instinct, the villain may overcompensate by using his right arm — but that means his change in direction and quick movements will affect his balance.

Additionally, the rest of his limbs presumably remain at normal-to-substantial strength. His attacks with his arm may become predictable if he prioritises attacking with it. Targeting his arm to invoke imbalance and then targeting his legs or other open areas seems like a good plan. 

Of course, Izuku forms this entire plan dependent on the possibility that the villain cannot switch the strength between his limbs quickly. 

If he can, Izuku is majorly screwed.

Sprinting past the bear-quirked man who now clutches onto the side of an apartment building in an attempt to stabilise himself, Izuku grabs the limb-enhancement-quirked man's left arm.

Putting his entire body weight into the attack, Izuku tugs at the man's arm and throws him to the side as roughly as he can. In his peripheral vision, he can see the other villain who was previously cheering pause for a couple seconds in shock before striding towards Izuku with an evident scowl on his lips.

“What the fu —”

His red-hot fist raises into the air, clenched and steaming with the activation of his quirk as it flies towards Izuku’s face.

Izuku can see the man he just threw scrambling on the ground and using his muscular arm to push himself up, and he can barely see the blurred outline of the bear-quirked villain in the corner of his vision who begins to shake in some strange form of rage as he steps towards Izuku in small, uneven steps — but all Izuku can focus on is the trembling form of the rabbit-quirked victim on the floor.

He shakes and curls into himself, pushing his body between the corner of two buildings. His ears flop over his face, obscuring his features as he continues hyperventilating and sobbing. 

“Run!”

Izuku screams the word as the villain’s crimson-coloured fist descends down onto him. Izuku throws his body to the side, crashing into the man he had just tossed a moment ago. Their bodies collide in a tangled mess, and Izuku manages to collect himself faster than the villain he has just crashed into, in order to avoid him getting jumped by two villains at once.

Izuku scatters towards the right, effectively getting himself far enough away from all the villains to try and configure a palpable plan whilst simultaneously reassessing the situation.

The bear-quirked man glares at Izuku as if he just killed his entire family. He doesn’t move, but the rapid rise of his chest and the straightening of his hunched posture allows Izuku to tell that he’s not happy. The villain with the large fist continues stalking towards Izuku — but what catches his attention is that the villain with the muscular arm has still not gotten up.

At closer inspection, Izuku realises that his wrist is bent at an extremely awkward angle. The man releases grunts and muffled cries as his arm begins deflating. Izuku almost sighs in relief at the realisation that by falling onto the villain, he broke his wrist — or at the very least, sprained it. 

But his relief very quickly dwindles once he catches sight of his left arm beginning to enlarge with forming muscle. It’s barely visible: the slow, augmented swell of his left arm — but it’s undeniably there. And so is the death glare the man is also giving him.

Izuku is forced to act once again as the same, red-hot fist flies at his face. Taking a move from one of his various hero notebooks, Izuku’s leg knocks into the villain’s ankles. The strength points do make a noticeable difference, Izuku realises as the villain almost immediately topples over to the side. His steaming fist grazes Izuku’s hood, singing it at the slightest degree.

With this villain, almost all the other weaknesses from the first villain he attacked apply too. However, there is an extra weakness — the dual use of both a strength attribute and an emitter-heat attribute most likely drains his energy. Even if the two factors are inextricable, the scientific use of two and more types of energy does have a physical impact on the body. It’s unavoidable.

As Izuku watches the villain crash into a dumpster with another scream beside where the other villain lays, he almost smiles. A month ago, Izuku could barely get up from the floor after being pummeled around by Bakugou’s lackeys. Now, he’s fighting villains because of a silly ‘System’ and is actually using the information he always wrote in his notebook but never expected to actually use?

His happiness and sense-of-accomplishment dissipates within his stomach and instead causes his heart to lurch as he is quite literally tackled onto the concrete. The overbearing weight of someone really heavy overwhelms all his senses and thoughts — but one realisation remains. 

The path for the victim is now free.

The two villains are still recollecting themselves are on the floor. Assuming the bear-quirked villain has just tackled him, the space near the gate — which is the only exit in this enclosed alleyway — is now free. 

“Run! Get over the fence — get to safety!” Izuku screams, his voice coming out of his throat somewhat guttural and high-pitched.

His lungs ache in pain as the weight continues crushing down on him and the sensation of claws scraping at his hoodie makes his heart painfully thud within his chest — but the pit in his stomach lessens as he watches the rabbit-quirked victim run across the area with inhuman strides and leap over the fence with the agility of a rabbit. 

Animalistic snarls echo within Izuku’s hearing as he comprehends the fact that he is immensely doomed. He has a man four times his weight pressing down onto him. His head stings with dull pain, and Izuku realises he might’ve gotten a concussion when the villain threw him onto the floor like a rag doll.

The villain is dead weight — scrambling around pointlessly whilst still on top of Izuku. His paws erratically scratch at whatever he can see of Izuku in the dim light, and his illogical actions slightly confuse Izuku. 

He has a powerful quirk, and his motions are extremely unpredictable — yet, every move behind his attacks lacks intention. Despite the horrifying potential the villain’s quirk holds in terms of strength, and in turn, damage — the man doesn’t land any good hits. Izuku racks his overwrought brain for a potential weakness, a fragility in his quirk — and then it dawns on him.

The villain doesn’t fight with a strategy. He just fights.

His past actions — being assigned lookout but being unwary, having such strength but being toppled over by the slightest, faintly charged shove, and simply growling at Izuku rather than attacking him when he had the chance; the man is just dumb.

Despite bears being highly intelligent mammals with incredible cognitive abilities, this villain had no coordination to his attacks whatsoever. More likely, the man just tackled Izuku with brute strength as it was the only thing he had to offer.

The assumption — surmised and conjured from very unclear body language that Izuku interpreted in a completely theoretical way that’s biased to his liking — was Izuku’s only chance at completing this quest. Maybe even his only way of making it out of this fight alive.

So, Izuku throws his head backwards in an attempt to slam his skull into the villain’s chin. His only plan is formed from the hopes that the villain won’t anticipate such a predictable attack. He prays whilst he feels the connection and the dull ache that spreads throughout his entire head like a painful migraine. 

The bear-quirked villain, on instinct, uses his arms to push himself up and away from Izuku. He groans in pain as his calloused paw rubs at his chin — which gives Izuku just enough time to push his legs against the wall of the building they almost crashed into and drive himself away from the gigantic villain.

As Izuku’s adrenaline slowly starts wearing off, he comes to the realisation that there's little to no hope of him winning this fight. He’d gotten a few good hits in and developed some good assumptions too, considering this is his first fight ever — but there's virtually no chance of his actually restraining all three villains, then getting them arrested. 

Luckily, his last move brought him some time to think of an escape route. Izuku stands at a couple foot distance from the smaller villains, mind reeling with a mental checklist to ensure his survival. He had gotten the victim out of the situation — and that was the most important thing that mattered. Another penalty quest won’t kill me, Izuku thinks with a visible wince.

The two villains with the limb-enhancing quirks have collected themselves. The one with the large arm has his right wrist bent at an awkward angle, but his left arm is bloated with immense muscles — even larger than the first time. The villain with the large, heated hand stands beside him, and the steam his fist emits is palpable even from Izuku’s blurred vision. Their posture is trained, instinctive — and utmost ready to attack. The bear-quirked villain is still writhing on the ground, but slowly recovering.

Pragmatically, Izuku should run away. He should accept the consequence — because it will most likely be better than the possible injuries he may leave this fight with if he continues. 

Izuku becomes painfully aware of the way his forehead stings, and he thinks that the villain’s scalding knuckles might’ve actually made contact with his skin. On top of that, the back of his head throbs with immense pain and Izuku is sure that a bruise is forming at this very moment.

Additionally, he is also terribly tired. His fatigue level in his stats must be insanely high, and Izuku dreams about receiving Full Recovery right now.

Resigning from the fight, Izuku runs as quick as he can — right past the two villains who were expecting Izuku to attack them, and jumps over the fence. He can hear one of the villains curse in irritation as he audibly moves to run after Izuku, but the sound of familiar yells fill the alleyway once again.

“Here — they’re here! Over this fence —”

A blur of black and white slams into the villain in the midst of his attempt of jumping over the fence. He topples backwards, falling back onto his accomplice who was preparing to jump over next. They fall into a heap on the ground, grunting in pain simultaneously once the figure lands on top of them in a low-crouched position.

Izuku watches as the obscure person extends something that looks like a white rope or cloth towards the bear-quirked villain — who was in the midst of getting up. His body is wrapped uncomfortably within the confines of the fabric a split second later, and the non-existent fight is already over.

Izuku watches from between the gap of two buildings as the figure's eyes glow a striking red. The rabbit-quirked victim stands behind the fence, smiling as he watches the person tie the villain’s hands behind their backs.

Somewhere in the midst of his concussed mind, Izuku recalls a page from his notebook which seems to accurately describe the equipment this mysterious person is using. The precise details are muddled and blurry within his brain, but lucid enough for Izuku to realise that this is a hero.

Izuku is frozen in shock, mouth agape in awe — when the sudden appearance of a new screen in front of him distracts him.

! NOTIFICATION

Leveled Up!

! NOTIFICATION

[ Urgent Quest: Restrain the Enemies. ]

COMPLETED

Number of enemies restrained:

[ 3 / 3 ] Immediate enemies

Check your reward?

[ YES ]    [ NO ]

! QUEST REWARDS

You got rewards.

[  1. Title: Iron Fist        ]

[  2. Quirk Points+3      ]

Huh.

Chapter Text

[ Title: Iron Fist ]

A title given to those skilled at

fighting strength-based quirks.

Strength-Type Enemies: 

STR STAT +20%

AGI STAT +25%

Izuku stares at the screen in undiluted bewilderment. His mind takes twice the amount of time to process the words due to the head injuries he sustained, but it eventually registers within his mind. 

He has beaten the Urgent Quest on the first go. Granted, maybe he hasn’t completed it directly — considering the fact that a random hero restrained them — but in the end, he received the rewards. That’s all that should matter, right?

Within his muddled brain, Izuku notes down that the system does have some loopholes. He isn’t sure if it’s a glitch or an error or maybe even intentional — because technically speaking, that shouldn’t have counted. Sure, he had engaged briefly in a fight between each individual villain and hit them at least once.

However, Izuku definitely was not the one who restrained them — but the system still determined the quest as finished.

Perhaps the System is willing to give him some leeway.

Izuku figures he’ll be better off to not engage in any other fights during the rest of his Training Quest. His head still reels with the new information of new quirk analysis he managed to witness first-hand, the acknowledgement of the impact his stat points have on him, and the appearance of the mystery hero — Izuku reflects over all the fresh, overwhelming details and stores as much as he can into his mangled head.

So, for the hour-and-a-half he has left on the timer, he lingers between the junction of two, derelict apartment blocks. At first, he listens through the faint ringing in his ears as the rabbit-quirked man he saved thanks the hero profusely and supplies him with some additional information before he leaves. 

Just before he does, Izuku catches the brief mention of him helping  — but the victim summarises the topic quickly, and instead begins explaining that the villains had first approached him when his wallet had dropped out of his pocket.

Izuku isn’t too sure why the hero does not ask the victim to elaborate on the fact that a disguised potential-vigilante attempted to fight the villains, but maybe the man had filled him in on that on the way there.

Either way, that meant Izuku had to be more wary of heroes from now on. He doubts the system would give him such a quest as a one-time occurrence. 

After a few minutes of grunts and some stray profanities which Izuku strongly assumes sounds from the villains, the hero binds them all in the cloth he bears and begins walking to where Izuku infers is the police station.

Izuku holds his breath and crouches down behind an overflowing dumpster as the hero walks by with the three villains. Izuku almost passes out from asphyxiation due to his disorientated brain convincing him that it was the same hero that had superhearing he’d encountered before entering the portal — despite him literally being teleported to another district likely across Musutafu. 

Trying to pass time, Izuku spins in circles (which makes his head pound immensely) and walks back and forth as he awaits the ending of the timer. It ticks in his ears like a taunt, each second warping and slowing down before suddenly speeding up — and at times, Izuku feels as if maybe he got hit by a time manipulation quirk as the numbers before him are not making sense.

Perhaps he should go see a doctor tomorrow morning. 

Eventually, the timer does run out. The Training Quest panel floating above him flashes with the wondrous word ‘COMPLETED’ in bright, glowing letters which seem as if they’re twitching or moving, and a whoosh! sound emits from behind him. Spinning around and almost giving himself whiplash, Izuku comes to face the purple portal.

His brain doesn’t even register the fact that he hadn’t received any rewards from the Training Quest. Izuku’s utmost priority is stepping through the otherworldly portal the System has kindly gifted him and getting back to Musutafu station — even though he has to experience that awful feeling of car sickness with a mixture of being on the verge of vomiting once his body materialises back.

Izuku nearly gives into his intrusive thoughts and slams his head into the concrete wall — well, anywhere would work considering the fact he’s surrounded with concrete and he has to walk up the stupid flight of concrete steps which took him an entire minute to walk down in the first place.

His head spins as the concussion seems to continue forming and his eyelids droop in exhaustion — but he pushes the overwhelming urge back — because despite the head trauma weighing heavily on his judgement and general ability to think, he still is aware that the most important thing right now is getting back to his room and recollecting his thoughts appropriately and accordingly.

The trek back to his apartment is thankfully uneventful. Izuku isn’t sure whether or not it’s because of the fact that it’s past one in the morning and there's not really anyone on the streets, or that his entire mind lacking spacial awareness and alertness — but either way, he’s glad he isn’t approached by a concerned citizen, or worse: a hero.

The climb through the window on the other hand, is quite eventful. He remembers leaving his window slightly ajar in order to climb back in back when his brain still worked efficiently, but Izuku’s newly-impaired mind fails to remember which window is his. 

Surely, a normal concussion cannot cause memory loss to be this bad, Izuku manages to form a rational thought.

The general area he assumes houses his apartment has two windows which are open, and the blinds are down in both so Izuku truly just has to peer into one and hope it’s his room — or that no one is in the room if it isn’t his. 

Luckily enough, the first window he checks is his. Izuku clambers over the dead plants situated beneath his windowsill and practically launches his heavy body into the frame — all whilst praying that he had enough momentum to land onto his bed. 

As a result, he face-plants into his All Might sheets while the remainder of his lower body slams into his wooden bed frame and his knees painfully knock into his floor. The noise is loud — violent, even, and Izuku prays that his mother won’t wake up.

Maybe this would even cause her to break her streak of silence.

The house is silent (as expected at two in the morning), yet he can’t hold back the repressed laugh bubbling in the back of his throat. It leaves as a muffled half-cackle half-sob, and the whole situation from death-to-now finally dawns on him like a dam breaking.

Izuku is confined to the system.

At the brink of death, he was forced to make that decision. He had under a second to determine whether he wanted to stay dead and go wherever one proceeds to after death, or select the option which sounded more hopeful. 

To become a player, and remain alive.

Obviously, Izuku hadn’t grasped the severity of the agreement when he had chosen the latter option. His premature mind — driven by the urge to live as he’d died so, so young, despite having not much of prior motivation — had chosen the instinctual option: to live.

For the first two or so days, Izuku was convinced that the world wasn’t real. His first preconscious thought was that after death, everyone gets to see the reality that they wished would happen. That the world he was seeing at that moment was not the world — but a phantasmal daydream within the last remnants of his consciousness before complete and irreversible death.

Kind of like a glorified, seven minute recollection of your best memories — but because Izuku’s seven minutes were more like four comprised of a couple moments with his mother and a few times when him and Katsuki were little — Izuku assumed that instead, he’d gotten an extremely extended version of what he hoped his life would have been like.

The assumption stemmed from the many internet forums on ‘life after death’ he used to scour on past days where he didn’t feel so hopeful, and when All Might’s inspiring quotes didn’t lighten the dark, growing pit inside of Izuku. 

To Izuku, it was a reasonable assumption. His life — useless, and enveloped in an eternal sense of idleness — suddenly transformed after death to one where he had an insane healing quirk and everyone cherished and loved him. 

Because there was no way that it could be real — it was too good to be true. So despite his rational thoughts and the proof right in front of him telling him that he was alive, he distantly held onto the idea that maybe he wasn’t.

Death was supposed to be evil. It takes everything from you: it takes your life. But Izuku rejected that claim — because death seemed so much better than living. Living as someone who had been unlucky enough to not gain the gene that eighty percent of people developed sealed him a life full of emptiness. A mostly genetic-decided and partly chance factor, which ended up dictating his whole life. 

His heartbeat no longer comforted him or served as a viable reminder of his existence.

So, when it all came crashing down, because everything: his hopes, his dreams, his presumed quirk, and his mother’s unconditional love — proved to be false, Izuku amended his assumption. This couldn’t be the reality he wished to see — because then death is pure evil. 

Death: the natural occurrence which is often described as peaceful and allowing you to pass onto a better place — would be a nightmare. The life he had already been given was so, so wicked and unfair — so why would death treat him like that too? 

Two extreme opposites such as life and death should guarantee two different outcomes or experiences. So why does he have to suffer in both?

In fact, Izuku considers it to be more than wicked. Death showed him what he could have had if he lived — and then ripped it all away from him, in front of his eyes. Even in death, he was forced to relive the familiar occurrences of his life.

However, when the system appeared in its full state, it explained everything. And Izuku didn’t want it to.

Because it explained how he survived. It explained how he was still alive, and it forced Izuku to retract his recently-formed opinion on death. Dying was so much better than remaining in this evil world.

But then, it started offering him opportunities. 

Opportunities which weren't really opportunities, because he was forced to do them. The Daily Quest was real and compulsory, and Izuku didn't have a choice. If he didn’t abide by the rules, then he’d receive penalties. Consequences which shouldn’t be real, because they don’t follow the rules of physics or quirks. 

Not that it would matter anyways, because it couldn’t be a quirk. It couldn’t be his. The HPSC made sure to let him know that.

So, the next viable explanation was that this was some sort of simulation. Maybe it was something to do with his death. Perhaps it sent his conscience to a reality where he does live. Because maybe death pitied him, and decided to comfort him and grant him the life that he always desired.

The theories arose in his preconscious mind, continuously stirring and insidious and enveloping every corner within his weakened mind. 

After having been shown all the options and being somewhat informed of the nature of the System — it was immediately evident to Izuku that it was based on a game. The glitching noises, the panels that showed up, the way it works — it had clear connotations that led back to a video game.

Izuku’s vivid mind couldn’t help but speculate. This was a textbook situation for the theory of being in a simulation — the way he now is forced to interact with the world reflects one of a damned video game. Who wouldn't debate whether or not they’re stuck in some sort of metaphysical, curated world?

However, the first time he got hit by the speed-quirked enemy in the Penalty Quest, something inside his mind jolted. It didn't cause a physical reaction, nor was it registered in his conscious mind — but something told him that it was worth it. Because if he is stuck with it, real or not, then he will make the best of what it gives him. 

The chance that the reality before him is real is ultimately tenable, and a million times more likely than any other insecure explanation that conjured within his broken state of mind. 

So, despite hysterically laughing and sobbing in the middle of his All Might themed room, Izuku accepts what is planned for him. He accepts the rewards he gained from the Urgent Quest — because if he doesn’t, then he is running away. He is running away from the second chance he begged for as he was dying, and the second chance he was granted. 

The second chance was and is real, because his heart continues to beat in his chest and in his ears; and that’s all the proof Izuku needs to determine that he is alive.

Eventually, he muffles the cacophony of sounds exiting his mouth and collects himself. It’s currently Saturday as of a couple hours ago, and school restarts on Monday. Aldera Middle School had retracted their leniency on his extended break once they had discovered of his new diagnosis. 

But, Izuku’s paranoid brain convinces him that he cannot go to sleep under any circumstances. The throbbing in his head he is experiencing at this moment seems to be the peak of the pain he’s experienced so far, so he reasons with himself that he must at least endure that before he allows himself to rest. Just in case.

Since the first impact that caused the supposed concussion, his fogged brain has somewhat cleared up. His recollection of the events seems slightly better compared to what he remembers from before, and his memory of his quirk analysis brightens just enough to where he can finally appoint the mystery hero’s equipment and obscure appearance to a name.

Eraserhead. 

His quirk, in Izuku’s opinion, is one of the most interesting quirks he’s ever heard about. The ability to nullify the very thing that brings society together as a whole and what makes up a lot of people’s identity nowadays is beyond impressive. 

When looking at Eraserhead, the first thing a villain may assume is that his quirk concerns the goggles covering his eyes or the binding cloths wrapped around him. They may expect lasers to shoot out of his eyes or the cloth to begin warping to whatever Eraserhead pleases, but then bam! and their quirks are gone.

His quirk is so extraordinary, so unforeseen that it brought down the three villains Izuku had spent what felt like at least a dozen minutes and the remainder of his brain power fighting in mere seconds. 

Of course Izuku was underwhelmed. Not at Eraserhead’s intervention — his sudden interference resulted in the completion of the quest. Izuku was underwhelmed at the fact that he couldn’t even beat one of the villains.

Sure, he walked into the fight unexpecting. Sure, he only had minor enhanced strength. But years upon years of quirk analysis had convinced him somewhere deep down that if he was ever given such a chance, he would have odds of beating said villains.

He had always convinced himself that a quirk is useless if they’re unable to use it according to their opponents weaknesses — and now, Izuku isn’t too sure that the fact is too true anymore.

Quirks are truly a gift to today’s society, and a quirk is better than no quirk.

Izuku realises that now.

Speaking of the completion of the quest, Izuku returns his attention back to the System. Sitting at the edge of his bed, he beckons the opening of the screen, and glances up at the rewards he has received.

! QUEST REWARDS

You got rewards.

[  1. Title: Iron Fist        ]

[  2. Quirk Points+3      ]

The first reward is a title. When Izuku first skimmed over the actual description of the reward, he’d briefly understood that it refers to the ability of the villains he had fought. The title grants him percentage boosters to his stats — specifically promoting stats which would help him in a fight with someone with a said strength quirk.

Izuku's eyes briskly latch onto the second and last reward. Quirk points.

His mildly intrigued expression abruptly falls as his eyes widen because oh my God, it does not say Ability Points — which he had read the first two times — but instead, it reads Quirk Points. 

Quirk.

As if the System reads his mind, a larger screen appears right in front of him.

! QUIRK CATALOG

[ 3 ]   Unallotted

Quirk        points

[ 3 / ?? ]   QUIRKS ACQUIRED !

1.TELEKINESIS

Rank A Quirk

… click to view more information

OPEN MENU?

[ YES ]     [ NO ]

2. PYROKINESIS

Rank B Quirk

… click to view more information

OPEN MENU?

[ YES ]     [ NO ]

3. INVISIBILITY

Rank B- Quirk

… click to view more information

OPEN MENU?

[ YES ]     [ NO ]

4. ???

Unlocked at Level [ 20 ]

???

… click to view more information

OPEN MENU?

[ N/A ]     [ N/A ]

… ‘yes’ to load more

Izuku’s jaw drops open. A sound which sounds somewhat akin to a wheeze exits his mouth, and he doesn’t even make an effort to stop it. His whole entire mind and focus is consumed on the screen before him — the same screen which is offering him a selection of quirks — as if he’s in a market or something.

After a long moment, his brain barely functions properly as he opens the first option — which happens to be telekinesis.

QUIRK: Telekinesis

Rank A Quirk

[ 141 ] Quirk points to

unlock     all     stages

Would you like to unlock all stages?

ERROR ! Not enough points …

Description: Ability to move objects at a distance

by mental power or other non-physical means.

STAGE I - Subtle Motion

Can move light objects

^ Up to weight of 5kg

Limited range to a few feet

^ Up to range of 4ft

Requires complete concentration

UNLOCK?

 [ 6 ]  Required

Quirk     Points

[ YES ]     [ NO ]

|

STAGE II - Minor Manipulation

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE III - Controlled Grip

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE IV - Multi-Tasking

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE V - Strengthening Abilities

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE VI - Heavy Lifting

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE VII - Combat Applications

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE VIII - Adept Telekinesis

[ LOCKED ]

Izuku’s brain almost short-circuits.

The slow release of adrenaline over time, the deliriousness from the potential concussion he gains, his exhaustion from the fight, the previous sudden release of his emotions and the shock from the life-changing addition to the system all seems to slam into him all at once like a ton of bricks — because Izuku promptly falls back onto his bed, passing out.

Izuku wakes up at two in the afternoon. 

Apparently, his mother hadn’t taken the effort of waking him up. She probably hasn't taken the effort to check on him, too — because something deep down inside of Izuku hopes that if she had walked into the room, she would’ve been worried enough about the visible injuries on his face and the confusing circumstances of his apparent predicament (in the form of being clad in vigilante-style clothing and bearing a huge gash on his forehead).

However, recent situations cause Izuku to doubt his hopes.

As soon as he awakes, he pushes himself out of the door in order to complete the Daily Quest. His stomach flips just thinking about the possibility of completing the penalty quest with the raging headache he has now.

By half-past-four, he’s completely done. The LootBox is kind enough to gift him a random, crumpled card from a playing deck — which he removes from his inventory and dumps into a random drawer in his desk, because the pen and bandage were infinitely more useful than an aimless card.

He puts the three Ability Points towards perception this time. The increase in accuracy and awareness could surely prevent him getting tackled again. Additionally, if any heroes were to attempt to sneak up on him, it would allow him to have a couple extra seconds to react and plan.

! STATUS

LEVEL 2

Title: Iron Fist

HP: [ 87 / 100 ]     EP: [ 10 / 10 ]

Fatigue : [ 1 ]

STR: 16                        VIT: 10

INT: 10                        AGI: 10

PER: 13               [ 0 ] Available

                            Ability points

He figures those stats are good enough — at least for now. Izuku plans on prioritising strength when he gets more points, as that in itself is practically an extra quirk. Of course, all the other stats can also be perceived as extra quirks — but in a situation such as the one he experienced yesterday, brute strength unfortunately often does trump skills such as combat IQ in incidents of high stakes.

So, Izuku finishes off his day by going to sleep at one in the morning. The remnants of the headache and the fact that he woke up late keep his brain up, consequently making him wake up in the morning at eleven. The fact that it’s Sunday doesn’t help either: he has school tomorrow, and has to prepare himself from the inevitable teasing.

In fact, it's likely to get worse by tenfold. Kacchan will likely get more aggressive, too — he always hits harder when he's frustrated.

The remainder of his day pans out frankly similar. He completes his Daily Quest, puts two of the points towards Integrity this time and one towards Vitality in a desperate attempt to heal his persistent headache. 

It barely works.

The LootBox grants him a singular paperclip; he also removes it from his inventory — for obvious reasons.

As the week concludes, Izuku realises he’s only seen his mother a total of maybe three times since he’d last seen her depart to her room Friday night. Two of the times he found her obsessively dusting the photograph of her and his father. 

The other time he saw her, she was unpacking a small haul groceries. This time, he managed to catch her eye. She gave him a blank look of veiled annoyance before looking away.

However, it doesn't seem as if she’s completely attempted to erase Izuku from her existence. She leaves out scraps from leftovers she makes (which the portions she leaves could barely feed a toddler) — and objectively, it’s honestly unclear whether or not she just didn’t want to clean the plate.

Izuku would like to think it’s because she still cares, but she doesn’t really want to show it.

It's reasonable, right? Izuku ignores the pang in his chest as he rationalises her actions. She’d been so hopeful for so many years, had her hope diminished, then had another split second of faith before Izuku effectively demolished that too.

Somehow, Izuku always manages to destroy everything.

Izuku goes to sleep pondering the future. He recognises that debating such a thing will only upset him more — but the pressing reminder of the fact that he does have a chance to be a hero weighs down on him ten times heavier than the past realisation that he could never become one.

His power (Izuku reminds himself again: not a quirk) allows him to have a second chance. It promised to assist his development — whatever that means. Now that Izuku does think about it, he wonders what the development will lead to. Just what is it training him for? 

The Daily Quests are preparing him physically — that much is obvious. The training quest is shaping him to inevitably become a vigilante — it’s just about when he’ll become one officially. Perhaps it's too soon to think about such things — Izuku has only gone on one Training Quest. Maybe it was a one time thing.

But, whatever the system is training him for — Izuku chooses to trust it. 

After all, he has trusted it with his life before.

Izuku’s assumption is correct. Like it almost always is. 

Eyes follow him every step he takes. Whispers indirectly address him whenever he moves an inch. They criticise the state of his uniform, his uncomfortable expression, the way he walks — everything is just not right about Izuku, according to the students of Aldera Middle School.

They don’t bother to hide it, either. At least when he used to simply be ‘the quirkless boy’, some of them muffled their whispers in pity. Most of them didn’t, but they kept their insults more tame and summarised their advice to: “Don’t go near him. He’ll infect you.”

Now, he’s the myth of the boy diagnosed quirkless twice. He’s the boy who foolishly tried to save his bully — and some people have already been speculating that it was a cover up for a suicide attempt. Instead of just disgusted sneers, eyes full of guilty pity and casual taunting — it’s now much more crude.

They point fingers at him without shame — not like anyone would bother to feel ashamed, anyways. They jeer at him in his face, spitting out vulgar remarks as he walks past. 

“Maybe he should’ve stayed dead, right?”

“— Literally! And Oh-em-gee, imagine if that random healing person wasn't in that crowd! Like, maybe —”

“Isn’t that the guy who tried to kill himself?”

Izuku hears all three mentions of him within a ten second duration. Heads continue to turn like dominos falling as he walks into his science class, heading towards his seat at the back. The reactions of predictable disgust are delayed (likely to people’s shock and curiosity) — but a few seconds after he brushes a couple people in an attempt to make it to his seat, they recoil at the realisation that they touched a quirkless person.

It seems like not that much has changed.

The lesson begins painfully slowly. The teacher walks into the room, oblivious to Izuku's presence. This teacher tends to display his dislike of Izuku especially clearly — his thin lips would always curl in disgust when they made eye-contact, and he seemed to take joy from picking on Izuku for certain questions.

The teacher falters after reading Izuku’s name on the register: it seems as if the mention of his tacit name has triggered the teacher’s memory. He must’ve heard about the incident — like Katsuki said, who hasn’t?

Speaking of Katsuki, Izuku hasn’t noticed him yet. Perhaps it’s the anxiety of being stared at like he was an alien — or maybe it’s the urge to avoid everyone’s piercing glare in fear of being called out publicly (since everyone seems to lack sympathy for the poor quirkless boy now that he got a bit of negative publicity). 

But Katsuki sits in his usual spot, his permanently-agitated face still.

His head slightly twitches when Izuku's name is called out loud. Whilst everyone turns with unashamed swiftness, Katsuki remains glaring at the board. His hands clench into loose fists and his eyes unconsciously linger towards Izuku, but he quickly seems to reprimand himself as he suddenly sits up straight and huffs.

The lesson continues as it always has — but instead of the same, subtle hounding, it’s more plain and palpable. People remain looking at Izuku, the teacher continues picking on him, and Katsuki avoids acknowledging his existence despite the entire tense atmosphere in the classroom stemming from Izuku’s presence.

And as minutes pass which seem like hours, it ends. The teacher shuffles out of the room without much care, and it’s only a matter of time before someone approaches him. It feels as if the walls are closing in on him and as he looks up, and the faces blur together as everyone surrounds him in a circle as if he’s some exotic animal in an exhibit and —

Suddenly, a hand grabs his collar and lifts him up and out of his seat. The startled gasps resound through the classroom, followed by unrestrained giggles and amused chuckles. The situation is all too familiar — and if Izuku had to guess, it has to be —

“Already back at school, aren’t you, nerd?”

Despite everyone avoiding Izuku’s touch like the plague, they don't seem to have a problem when it’s them initiating it under the intention of beating him up and using their quirk on him like some sort of test dummy.

Izuku’s arms fall limply by his side as he timidly looks up. He makes eye contact with Katsuki, and his eyes seem to hold some sort of animosity that Izuku hasn’t seen recently. Bakugou looks down at him like he’s scum, but the microscopic twitch of his lower lip almost goes unregistered by Izuku.

Almost.

Katsuki’s arm raises, palm face-up and fingers crooked in the telltale indication of his quirk activating. A unified gasp of twisted excitement sounds throughout the classroom, and Izuku drops his head in shame.

A hand roughly threads through his unruly curls and forces his head back up. Ah, it's Bakugou’s lackeys. The two of them stand beside him like proud bodyguards, smirking in demented joy and spitting out remarks here and there about ‘how good this is gonna be’.

Katsuki’s hands spark. A small, satisfied grin forms on his lips, and all Izuku can think about is that nothing has actually changed. It’s only gotten worse — and he can’t help but feel angry at the knowledge that all the system will do in times like these is absolutely nothing.

It doesn’t seem to register this as an urgent matter, despite the fact that he very well might receive second-degree burns in a few seconds.

Izuku’s vision zero in on Katsuki’s sinister smirk — which suddenly disappears as soon as his palm begins descending down onto Izuku.

Izuku’s eyes shoot toward his hand. The sparks have completely ceased, and his hand has stopped moving. Izuku’s eyebrows furrow in simultaneous pain and confusion as one of his classmates keeps tugging on his hair to keep his rebellious head up. Izuku’s vision shoots towards Katsuki's eyes, and — ah.

Katsuki is staring at Izuku’s forehead. The scorch mark from the villain he had fought just a couple days ago is still somewhat irritated and raw — and Katsuki seems to recognise that he didn’t give Izuku it. 

Bakugou’s hand drops, causing the background comments and giggles in anticipation to cease. His lackey’s look at him as if he’s grown a second head — but all he does is click his tongue in annoyance mixed with something Izuku cannot decipher. Katsuki releases Izuku with a hard shove before walking back to his table.

“My mum’d be pissed if she saw another scratch on Deku.”

The excuse is frankly weak and undeniably strained, but his lackeys and the remainder of the class huff in dwindled excitement before then humming in hesitant agreement.

Katsuki’s word seems to be final — almost like some sort of modernised scripture.

Izuku’s exhausted body drops back into his seat, the crowd slowly dispersing after the possible ‘fun’ element of his suffering has been removed. A couple girls remain seated on his desk whilst blatantly insulting Izuku in his very vicinity of hearing, but he could care less right now.

The tugging of his hair irritated the skin being pulled — consequently, aggravating the skin marred with the burn mark. It aches and stings like the day he’d first received it, but Izuku can’t bring himself to walk to the nurses office (like she’d even help Izuku), so he just puts his head down onto the space available on the rest of the table.

The rest of the day unfolds quite similarly. Izuku manages to keep his head down and avoid most of the blunt insults hurled at him. No one has actually tried to approach him and hit him since Bakugou’s declaration — it’s nice enough, actually.

He goes to a random, empty classroom during break and lunch. He doesn’t even attempt to get food due to the knowledge that he will inevitably be stared and gawked at. The teachers aren’t really around in the canteen — god knows what’ll happen to him then.

His head stays down on the table during his last lesson: English. The teacher is a frail, senile lady who is solely focused on teaching. She doesn’t really care what’s happening in the classroom behind her — rather, maybe she can’t really see nor hear what's happening. 

The lesson pans out in the standard fashion it always has: Izuku remains in the back, silent. This time around, though — well, everything beforehand has happened. He pretends to sleep as the whispering surrounding him fails to cease.

Maybe it’s good that he can’t, though. From two tables away from him, Izuku hears the failed muffled whispering between two boys.

“ —so Bakugou didn’t get to blow that null up — how about we do it? I mean, it’s not like the teachers would care anymore — not like they would’ve before, but y’know what I mean.”

The boy beside him stifles a loud cackle, hot vapour exiting through his nose as he restrains himself. Izuku knows him — his quirk is Steam: It usually exits from his hands, and can get hot enough to cause minor burns — but, it can exit from other openings if his emotions are strong enough or he doesn’t care to control it.

Izuku can’t help himself as he peeks through the gaps between his hair and the crook of his elbow to peer at the table across from him. He memorises their faces — their evil, conniving faces as they gleefully begin discussing their plan.

One of the boys mutters something back that sounds like agreement — and then they fistbump.

They fistbump over agreeing to hurt him.

Glitching enters Izuku’s hearing. It’s a sound he knows all too well — and the feeling of static and numbness crawling up his fingertips and enveloping his arms is one he also knows.

His thoughts barely filter through and his head begins filling with horrible, horrible things — and Izuku has to clench his fingernails into his palms and bite into his lip until the skin breaks: just to contain this awful spread of malicious ideas.

Izuku doesn’t know how long he sits there — refining his thoughts and attempting to unburden his corrupted mind. His breathing begins picking up as his attempts fail, and no one notices. The familiar sound of the bell rings and people begin shuffling through the door — but every movement and every shrill toll of the bell feels like sandpaper against nails.

The multitude of sounds are utterly excruciating through the clear glitching — and his hands itch to thread into his hair and pull to relieve the palpable ache encompassing his brain and resounding throughout it without fail.

Izuku raises his head up after a bit, knowing he can’t stay there and writhe in pain forever. He manages to catch a glimpse of the two boys smirking at each other as they exit the door — not before periodically glancing at Izuku.

As soon as the duo steps foot out of the threshold of the classroom, the pain lifts off of him like a ten ton weight being subsided. The glitching wavers out into a subtle ringing of his ears, and the agonising throbbing morphs into spasms and aching cramps in his stomach.

Now that his entire mind isn’t being tampered with the strange pain, he gains enough clarity to recognise he’s the only one left in the classroom. However, the sinister thoughts he was previously experiencing didn’t ease like his other symptoms — rather, they seem to have shifted into whispered warnings within his mind.

They repeat the exchange he had heard between the two boys plotting on him like a mantra. The voice echoing the conversation is not malicious nor conniving — but embodies something akin to a premonition. A potent warning.

He ignores it as best as he can as he collects his belongings off the table carelessly and stuffs them all into his tattered bag. He throws it over his shoulder, with the zips not fully closed as he exits the classroom.

His complete and full focus is on getting home. Izuku tries to ignore the voice within his mind intensifying as his eyes fixate onto the exit at the very end of the long, linear hall — but heavy footsteps behind him make his attention deviate.

He can tell it's the two boys. Izuku can feel it. The static in his hearing returns full blast — elevating the volume of the stomps getting closer.

“Hey, null!”

Izuku’s ears begin to ring — but he doesn’t think it's the system this time. His clammy hands twitch in anxiety and his breathing returns to short bursts, and Izuku knows he has to get out of there — now.

Izuku knows the second boy has a minor speed-enhancement quirk. He can’t think of a sufficient reason he hasn’t used it already to catch Izuku — then again, maybe he just wanted Izuku to come to them. To accept the beating.

However, the reminder that Izuku still hasn’t completed his Daily Task weighs on the top of his priorities, despite the predicament he currently finds himself in.

He still has a large portion of kilometers to run and the remainder of the exercises left. If he gets beaten up now, then there's no chance he’ll be able to complete it. And then, he’ll have to face the Penalty Quest and get assigned a random-quirked enemy to beat whilst in pain from the beating.

Izuku’s mind racks itself for an out. There’s no one remaining in the corridors; it seems as if he was trying to ease his anguish in English class for longer than he assumed. From this distance, Izuku can tell the corridor will likely take around thirty seconds to get to the exit if he runs — and he doesn’t doubt that the boy behind him will get there first.

So, Izuku relies on his surroundings.

His eyes catch onto the rows of lockers against the walls and the classroom doors placed periodically between them. The hall is dark enough; a good amount of the bulbs have been broken for a while.

Hiding in a locker would be pointless and plain stupid. Running into a classroom would just get him cornered. 

Izuku winces, managing to direct the returning feelings of anger towards The System. The lack of urgency it holds when he’s about to get injured compared to its leniency when it guides him to dangerous places despite not predating him at all honestly astounds Izuku.

Wait, that's right.

The System.

Izuku’s eyes zero in onto a certain junction that he can see in his path. It’s where a row of lockers end and an ajar classroom door is. Between the two, there's a small gap of just a wall that would be just wide enough to fit a person.

The lockers protrude out just enough for Izuku to assume that the two boys wouldn’t be able to see him from the angle he assumes they’re at if he just flattened himself against the wall. 

Obviously, they would certainly see him when they come directly into his life of sight whilst hiding there. Izuku is aware he has to act fast. By the sound of their footfalls, he can tell they’re catching up.

So, Izuku sprints the short distance towards the spot.

“Hey, Deku! Where’re ya going?”

The condescending tone sends shivers down his spine — but frankly, he has no time to freeze in fear. Izuku opens the system, quickly directing it towards the quirk menu and opens Invisibility. 

He purchases the first option before running face-first into the junction and flattening himself against the wall.

He squeezes his eyes closed and hopes the quirk has automatically activated.

A few seconds later, he can hear that the two boys are audibly in front of him. Their heavy breaths and unintelligible curses allow Izuku to pinpoint their exact location: right before him.

They run right past him and into the classroom that he used as bait.

Izuku glances down at his semi-transparent hands, gaping in extreme disbelief before his brain seems to catch up with his body and he begins sprinting down the corridor.

QUIRK: Invisibility

Rank B- Quirk

[ 88 ] Quirk points to

unlock    all    stages

Would you like to unlock all stages?

ERROR ! ‘Stage I’ already unlocked …

Description: Ability to render

oneself unable to be seen.

STAGE I - Blurred silhouette

Body partially blends in with surroundings

^ Works best with plain, solid background

Considerably easy to spot in bright light

Requires full concentration

UNLOCKED !

Chapter Text

          The remainder of the weekdays pass by pretty similarly. Maybe minus the physical bullying part — everyone has mostly backed off. The whispers are still unyielding and undeniably circulating around the entire school, but everyone has somehow come to a unanimous decision to not directly bother Izuku anymore.

Maybe they feel pity for him, maybe they’re back to believing that his quirklessness is contagious — whatever the reason is, Izuku is grateful.

Kacchan hasn’t approached him either. His eyes discreetly follow Izuku whenever he first catches sight of him, and his face unconsciously scrunches up in a mixture of emotions that Izuku cannot differentiate — but no further advances are made apart from that.

The sudden onslaught of popularity — despite not being particularly positive — has made things much more difficult for Izuku. The points he’s been putting towards his stats turn out to be quite potent. His strength has gotten quite noticeable if he doesn’t try to conceal it — maybe not visibly, as the thick fabric of his aged blazer doesn’t really take much to cover up the little muscle he’s gained.

There has been progress though, for sure: his arms don’t feel as if they’re going to snap in half whenever he lifts anything over fifteen kilograms anymore, and the Daily Quests have become considerably easier to complete.

He’s also upgraded his Intelligence by a couple points, his Perception by three, and his Agility and Strength by five. He knows it’s likely not good nor practical to put no points towards Vitality — but Izuku doesn't plan on getting into major fights any time soon. He’s aware that he’s just gotten his powers — so using them irresponsibly would be plain stupid.

Speaking of Daily Quests, Izuku has received The Key three times within the five day duration. He has only participated in three conflicts on the three different occasions — he prevented a senile lady from having her wallet stolen, stopped a brawl between some random middle-school students, and stopped a corner-store robbery just before it happened. 

His biggest concern and challenge was restraining the villains for long enough to receive help — and the fact that once help came (most likely in the form of pro-heroes), they could arrest him too. Vigilantism is definitely not a well-reputable profession.

So, he fixed that by purchasing a burner phone. He doesn’t call the police: the risk of them recognising his voice, even if he attempts to change the pitch, is way too high. There’s a likely probability that if he’s in a high-stress situation, he won't have any time to consider the fact that he should change his voice.

So, Izuku conjures up an alternative solution.

He texts an emergency number. This specific emergency number is allocated to emergencies in which victims or the individual cannot physically speak out loud, so texting is ideal. It’s quick and easy; all Izuku does is ensure the villains are restrained well enough by the zip ties he’s purchased before sending the address in and leaving the area.

Of course, Izuku has considered the fact they could possibly trace the number to locations and figure out where he is before he manages to even complete the Urgent Quest. So, Izuku takes precautions.

He modifies the phone. Izuku removes the chip which controls the microphone and camera, he installs a software which protects his data from even skilled trackers, installs an operation system which blocks electromagnetic signals whenever he wants, and installs a VPN. He even manages to include some anti-hacking quirk software, somehow.

This knowledge was just one of the many things that Izuku learnt whilst trying to scour jobs when he was younger, completely quirkless and indefinitely hopeless. It’s a noble job still within the police force, so I could technically still be considered a hero, Izuku reasoned.

His fourteenth job he wanted to have when he was young was being a Digital Forensics Analyst. He could prevent bad guys from committing crimes in the first place by reversing the hacking done to their phones.

The idea was fun and sounded reasonable in Izuku’s premature mind — right up until he realised that people have quirks specialised for these types of things. People can hack into a phone within seconds just by activating their quirk — so Izuku crossed off another potential future job with a bated sigh.

Now, Izuku is here, using that knowledge to disable technology within his phone in order to make the police unable to track him. He’s practically defying every single thing he stood for when he first acquired this knowledge.

Oh, well.

Izuku has accumulated seven quirk points from his three endeavours. That leaves him with eight total points — considering he had one left over from when he’d previously purchased the first stage of Invisibility.

It seems as if it was a good purchase, though: invisibility is a remarkably good quirk for him to have as a vigilante. It increases his ability of stealth in general (both in fights and avoiding heroes), it works incredibly well paired up with the Strength and Perception in his stats, and it's definitely not a bad quirk in general.

So far, he has had just enough points to reach the third stage. 

QUIRK: Invisibility

Rank B- Quirik

[ 88 ] Quirk points to

unlock    all    stages

Would you like to unlock all stages?

ERROR ! ‘Stage I’ already unlocked …

Description: Ability to render

oneself unable to be seen.

STAGE I - Blurred silhouette

[ UNLOCKED ]

|

STAGE II - Minor Manipulation

[ UNLOCKED ]

|

STAGE III - Basic Cloak

Complete invisibility when still.

^ Lasts up to 25 seconds

Movement causes warping.

Small objects can be made invisible.

^ Objects sized up to a football

[ UNLOCKED ]

|

STAGE IV - Moving Stealth

Can walk whilst invisible without tells

Mid-sized items can become invisible

^ Sized up to a standard large box

Fast movements break invisibility

UNLOCK?

 [ 7 ]  Required

Quirk    Points

[ YES ]     [ NO ]

_

|

STAGE V - Extended Camouflage

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE VI - Shadow Veil

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE VII - Ghost Step

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE VIII - Specter Replica

[ LOCKED ]

|

STAGE IX - Phantom Presence

[ LOCKED ]

The new advancements to his quirk are sure to make a large impact in his performance as a vigilante — or, whatever he is defined as. Izuku has even tested the new features out himself: the invisibility is truly absolute and complete.

On Friday afternoon, he had stood at the doorway of a random convenience store whilst activating the quirk. He had previously made sure there was no one he recognised around. It hadn't required his full and completely undivided focus — although, he still did have to concentrate hard enough. It’s definitely a step up from the first stage, though.

A total of five people had quite literally walked into him, oblivious and confused as they had stumbled back from seemingly nothing. He was entirely invisible. The action of a person walking into him did cause some distortion, even though he himself barely moved. Izuku notes that down.

The quirk did prove to automatically deactivate after exactly twenty-five seconds, despite Izuku’s best efforts to prolong the threshold. His body became visible once again, and a couple people gave him a glance at his sudden appearance — but no one bothered to confront him about his unsolicited quirk use.

Regardless of quirk use without a hero’s permit being illegal, the majority of the public don’t seem to care. Actually, Izuku had read a couple forums in which people stated that quirk use in public didn’t bother them at all, granted that they weren't hurting anyone. One user claiming to be a police officer even stated that if the quirk was cool and they’re doing no harm, then they wouldn’t do anything.

Izuku did consider the fact that a pro hero could see his test trial  — but in his mind, it didn’t matter; so long as he received good results from his little experiment. And he did.

At home, he also practiced making objects invisible. At first it was a couple pens and a random stress ball — and Izuku discovered that they withheld the same time limit, too. After a couple hours of non-stop practice, he managed to make a tissue box invisible before he had to stop.

Despite his quirk currently not being too potent, it still takes a lot out of him.

Another later time, he even dually practiced making himself invisible and simultaneously making his phone invisible. Luckily enough, it worked — but the distortion to both his body and the phone was constant, despite not moving the object and staying as still as possible. The time limit also dropped to around fifteen seconds. 

So Izuku finds himself on Saturday night outside the train station, key in hand. He figures he’s gotten a good enough grasp onto the new additions to his quirk and their mechanisms — despite not knowing any special applications or tricks, he reckons that it should be enough considering he’s planning on avoiding any and all possible difficult fights.

If he does come across any, of course, he’ll send the address to the emergency number and likely supervise until a pro hero arrives. They’re the ones trained to deal with such fights after all.

He descends the steps, uses the key to unlock the door, and enters the portal. The actions are all too familiar — which is quite weird, considering that he’s only done this four times before. Shouldn’t a habit take at least sixty-six days to form?

! NOTIFICATION

You have entered 

Nakazaka street.

The surroundings are much less akin to Higashizaka street. It seems to be built on a mild hill. There’s a couple town houses dotting the sides of the pavement, and Izuku can see a small bookstore down the path. The streets are well lit with lampposts and there's a few visible security cameras within view — and Izuku comes to realise it doesn’t look like there’d be much crime here.

! NOTIFICATION

A training quest has arrived.

! QUEST INFO

[ Training Quest: Patrol the streets of

Mustuafu. ]

GOAL

This area has a small amount

of villains and documented medium

criminal activity.

Ensure their arrest to assure

everyone’s safety.

WARNING: If you do not

complete this quest, you will

receive appropriate penalties.

2:59:32 / 3h

On closer inspection, the area does look quite wealthy. It seems as if the houses get larger and fancier as he manages to spot a couple houses and mansions up the hill. Perhaps the system is trying to hint that the area may get lots of robberies or something — and to be honest, Izuku doesn't know where to go first.

Izuku’s eyes scour the perimeter. The street itself is empty, and the bookstore seems pretty irrelevant as there seems to be no activity whatsoever in that area. 

Izuku stumbles as he nearly crashes into someone. He lets out a startled, timid apology, but the woman just ignores him. She clutches the grocery bags in her hands a little tighter, expression shrouded by the large designer glasses she wears. But it’s eleven at night, Izuku internally questions with confusion.

His eyes dart to the general area she just walked from, and he catches sight of a somewhat unmaintained gas station. Ah.

It doesn’t really look like it fits into the neighbourhood if Izuku’s being blatantly honest. Of course, he himself can’t really speak; it looks as if it's twice the quality than most of the buildings in his area. 

But the couple drawings of graffiti and black, soot-like stains on the walls are very unfitting of the entirety of the neighbourhood — and what looks to sit above it. As he begins to walk towards the building, Izuku’s eyes zero onto the small passage beside it, with an open gate and some tall, barred fences. An alleyway, lovely.

He walks through the gate with feigned precision. The passage is narrow, dark and obviously going uphill. It goes perfectly straight — until it doesn’t. Izuku is stumped as it suddenly splits off into three, winding pathways: all equally as unlit and ominous. 

Wandering into uncharted territory like that isn’t a good idea, considering Izuku has a lukewarm understanding of his newly acquired quirk and some increased strength that he still blindly weaponises — despite the many times he has told himself not to.

So, the best idea that comes to Izuku’s tired, sleep-deprived mind is to wait at the junction of the four pathways. He’ll be able to hear any footsteps coming from any of the passages (assuming the person will make audible footfalls or not attempt to hide their sounds — otherwise, Izuku is majorly screwed). 

His new advancement in his quirk allows him to go both completely invisible and intangible for up to twenty-five seconds. So, if he hears anyone approaching, he can just go invisible. Twenty-five seconds should give him enough time to figure out if the person is a villain or not. Maybe. Probably.

Izuku stands at the point right between the start of the middle and right junction. He remains completely still in an effort to strain his ears and listen for signs of anyone coming from any of the four pathways or any movements whatsoever.

Izuku acknowledges this could very much be futile. The chance of a crime happening between two well established neighbourhoods is unlikely (one being extremely wealthy, and each of the three paths extend uphill towards the said wealthy neighbourhood), but never zero.

However, the anomaly of the barren and dark alleyway splitting off into three, desolate pathways which are identically obscure provides a good opportunity in order to gain some quirk points. He currently has none, and Izuku plans on levelling up Invisibility to around Stage VII before considering to unlock either Pyrokinesis or Telekinesis. 

Unsurprisingly, Izuku leans towards Telekinesis for obvious reasons. If he ever wants to make the fact that he does have powers public, Telekinesis would be a good place to start. Ranked A, he assumes it’ll be a much more potent version of his mother’s mild quirk. 

Given that his mother’s quirk is Telekinesis, it’ll be much easier to convince people — disregarding the documented evidence that his quirk gene is inactive and that he is confirmed quirkless, but that's another thing to worry about at a different time.

However, the fact that it’s ranked A does allude to the fact that it’ll be much harder to master — or rather, it’ll take many more quirk points to fully unlock. In fact, he can remember briefly glancing at the quirk points needed to unlock all stages at once around a week ago before he passed out — and he swears he can remember the number being somewhere around a hundred-and-forty.

The sheer thought of that number makes his head spin. An average Urgent Quest where he saves someone from being robbed or stops a fight gives him around three quirk points each. That means he’ll have to receive around forty-seven urgent quests to completely unlock Telekinesis. So far, he’s gotten four keys in the space of a week (he might get one tomorrow, who knows).

Assuming he might not get a key tomorrow and also assuming he might get one, tame Urgent Quest today, that means he’d have finished four Urgent quests in a space of a week and therefore gained around twelve quirk points. To get to a hundred-and-forty, that's almost three months. Not too bad, Izuku thinks. If an A Rank quirk is as powerful as he anticipates, that equates to three months of his life for a ‘Top-Ten Hero’ quirk. Not bad at all. 

Additionally, Izuku has noticed that the first three quirks the system has offered him are all B Rank or over. They’re all powerful — and he could even call them overpowered. The system seems to not offer him anything less than exceptional.

His train of thoughts and analysis is cut off by the sound of very faint footsteps. They audibly come from the singular path that Izuku had walked down a couple minutes ago. Atleast, Izuku guesses it’s been a couple minutes — to be frank, he doesn’t really know how long he’s been daydreaming.

He immediately activates his Invisibility as soon as the information processes through his head. Izuku presses himself up against the barred fences — to the point that if he tried a little bit harder, he might be able to squeeze through it. He limits his movements as much as possible in order to avoid possible distortion.

The seconds until his quirk inevitably deactivates are counted shakily in his head. At the seventeen second mark, a shoe comes into view from around the corner. 

A boy emerges. His face is veiled by the hood of his black hoodie, and there's a single grocery bag clutched in the crook of his elbow while his hand holds something that isn’t visible. Izuku’s blood runs cold.

Despite the knowledge that the boy cannot see Izuku — and Izuku doesn’t know for how much longer, because the sudden onslaught of anxiety made him lose track of his counting — Izuku squeezes his eyes shut.

They remain closed for a singular second, before Izuku realises there has been no telltale sound of the System’s Urgent Quest panel. There’s usually a familiar ding! once it appears in front of him, and a constant hum of static as the screen remains still, facing him. But there's nothing.

Coincidently, Izuku’s eyes fly open as soon as the boy is directly across from him. It seems as if he’s conveniently taken the passage to the right — the same passage Izuku has been hiding in. Everything about the boy seems much clearer now that they're in closer proximity.

The mysterious object the boy is holding is a box of Pocky. With the other unoccupied hand, he pulls the biscuits out of the package and eats them. Izuku nearly cries from joy. A white wire from his earbuds contrasts against the dark fabric of his hoodie, and Izuku wants to yell from relief as he realises it’s just a random person who's on their way back from the gas station. Not a villain. 

Izuku reminds himself that his sounds are not concealed, despite his entire physical body being invisible.

However — there is one, distinctive feature that is barely visible in the moonlit passage. From where Izuku is hiding (at the left side of the passage), a couple strands of dark hair stick out from underneath his hood. The moon, reflecting light from the dextral area of the star-scattered sky, projects onto the right side of the boy’s face and highlights some white strands sticking out from the other side of his hood.

Huh, he has split-coloured hair. Cool.

Izuku withholds a sigh of relief — however, a small breath he releases in order to avoid doing that seems to be heard by the boy. His body twitches as the small, muted sound is picked up by his ears. The boy turns, halting for a split second, before continuing his trek down the winding pathway. Izuku mentally sighs in relief.

The boy walks around a dozen more steps, becoming farther and farther away, and Izuku’s invisibility starts flickering. He can see his hands fighting to stay transparent — but the logistics of his newly acquired quirk fight back harder. 

Izuku should be good now. The boy is far enough away that he can’t hear Izuku if he makes any hushed noises, and therefore shouldn't turn around. He’s wearing earbuds, too. If somehow he does, then Izuku can pretend he just came around the corner. There’s literally no reason for the boy to be suspicious. Apart from Izuku’s villain-like attire and jittery demeanour, maybe. 

Izuku’s periodic relief is suddenly halted at the sound of rushed footsteps sounding from the singular passageway. There’s barely audible whispering too, and Izuku has to strain his ears to hear.

“ —just went through this way. I’m following him right now. Imagine how much money his father is gonna give for ransom, man. We’re gonna be filthy rich —”

The voice is panting whilst relaying all this information, presumably to another person on the phone. The footsteps thunder quicker and louder towards the junction, and Izuku panics.

Izuku’s first thought is that they're coming for him. It’s a self-centred and inane thought — likely driven by Izuku’s extensive paranoia and fear of being caught. Then, Izuku remembers the fact that his father doesn’t care about him; he doesn’t even know who the man is. They also mentioned that they’re following him ‘right now’, so it's almost certain the person is talking about the split-haired boy.

! QUEST INFO

[ Urgent Quest: Restrain the Enemies. ]

GOAL

You have encountered a villain

which intends to harm a civilian.

Ensure civilians are safe and

the villains get arrested.

WARNING: If you do not

complete this quest, you will

receive appropriate penalties.

Number of enemies restrained:

[ 0 / 1 ] Immediate enemies

Izuku can feel his heart in his throat as the footsteps sound even louder. He attempts to activate the invisibility, but it turns out to be in vain. There seems to be a time limit in which the quirk must rest before being engaged again — one which he overlooked, not anticipating a dire situation such as this.

A distinct whoosh! cuts throughout the cool, night air and suddenly, a knife comes into Izuku’s eyesight. It travels perfectly straight throughout the air, pauses and turns once coming to face the junction, before directing itself towards the right passageway and continues flying straight towards the boy's back.

There is still no sight of the villain.

Izuku panics. There is quite literally nothing he can do in this situation. Invisibility nor enhanced strength can really stop a knife flying at insane speeds. 

His eyes widen once he catches sight of the knife’s appearance. It looks more akin to a dagger — and it has serrations. The tip of the blade is pointed, sharp and shining like polished metal, but the actual flat surface is engraved with comb-like ridges.

Izuku attempts to yell out towards the split-haired boy. A futile “move!” exits his mouth, but the earbuds the boy is wearing seem to have amazing noise cancelling; in fact, he doesn’t even twitch.

The dagger seems to soar in slow motion. It looks to aim downwards, casting to imbed itself into the boy’s leg. It has yet to skim past Izuku’s position — but there isn’t anything Izuku can do. He won’t be able to catch up to the mobile dagger once it passes him — nevermind him being able to reach the boy.

In frustration, Izuku’s nails penetrate themselves into the fabric of his fingerless gloves. The leather-like material protects his palms from the damage.

Izuku’s eyes dart towards the garment dressing his hands, and an idea illuminates inside of his panicked mind.

The dagger is moments from passing Izuku — so he acts.

His hand darts out towards the rotating, airborne dagger — specifically his palm. Izuku hopes that the points stored towards his perception and agility make a difference.

As soon as he feels the ridges begin to bump against the leather of his gloves (meaning he had unluckily caught in at the second it was rotating blade-first rather than the handle), Izuku tightens his grip and clenches his hand into a fist. He catches the dagger by the blade.

The momentum and velocity of the dagger cause Izuku to trip forwards. Despite now restraining the weapon, it still seems to exert some kind of force as the inanimate object attempts to continue travelling onwards. Must be their quirk, Izuku notes.

The serrations abrade the leather, causing deep fissures and scrapes to the high-quality fabric. A loud crash! sounds loudly from the singular passage and Izuku’s head shoots up, anticipating another knife to come flying.

Instead, heavy steps slap against the concrete, and a person comes into view. They run into Izuku’s line of sight, simultaneously shedding the hoodie they were presumably wearing beforehand. Although, once Izuku catches sight of their attire, he freezes.

Strapped onto a plain, black shirt, they’re wearing a military vest. It's customised, though: instead of a standard vest with a couple pockets, pouches and bags — there’s at least a dozen holsters, equipped with already unsheathed daggers. 

They have an arsenal of knives and daggers.

It appears they seem to have felt the interference of Izuku’s prevention. The person pauses once they have seen Izuku, glaring at him as if Izuku just declared war. There’s a split second where the moonlight seems to reach the figure's face, grazing it — and Izuku attempts to commit their face to memory, just in case.

It looks as if they have dark hair — likely black, styled into a messy, small bun at the back of his head. A distinct frown graces their lips, and their pale skin is marred with too many scars. With all the characteristics considered, Izuku determines they’re likely a male.

Both of the man's hands immediately reach for the two holsters at the side of his hips. He draws two daggers, throwing them in tandem. One immediately swerves and flies the short distance towards Izuku, whilst the other one flies a bit higher and spins slower — likely still aiming at the split-haired boy.

Izuku doesn’t know whether the boy has now noticed the situation, has fled, is still walking unknowingly or potentially something else — there are too many possibilities, and Izuku has no clue.

And despite how much he’d like to check on the boy — despite how wrong his body feels ignoring the instincts to prioritise the civilian’s life, Izuku just cannot disregard the fact that a knife is flying at him from such a short distance.

Izuku’s first impulse is to duck. The slightest twitch of his body moving downwards makes the airborne dagger adjust its trajectory, following Izuku’s motions. So his quirk has to do with his weapons locking onto a specific person or area, Izuku notes. 

Logically, nothing he can physically do will stop the inevitable impact. Strength won't save him at this point in time, nor will perception, vitality or any of the other stats he’s been so incredibly keen on upgrading. The chance that he can knock the knife from the air as soon as it reaches within his range without gravely injuring himself is slim to none.

So, Izuku wills the System. He activates invisibility, despite the strain it takes to withhold past the time limit which he just terminated a few moments ago. 

He knows that the man’s quirk doesn’t require the target to constantly be in his line of sight. The dagger he had first thrown had emerged from around the corner after the boy had been out of the man’s sight for at least half a minute. Unless the man was looking through the barred gaps of the fence — but within this darkness, it's unlikely.

Unless he has something to aid him with night vision and — Izuku is getting ahead of himself.

Either way, the Invisibility activates. It flickers unstably and distorts as Izuku commits to the crouch he’d dived for a moment ago.

The dagger follows, the sheer speed of it dangerous and taunting, but then, it hesitates. The pointed tip suddenly begins quaking and slightly jerking up and down. It comes to a halt midair, almost as if watching Izuku’s invisibility warp. Izuku begins distorting and the interference makes his true body all too visible — but then, Izuku completely stills himself, flat on the ground, and the knife drops.

The man stills for a split second, hand twitching at another holster as he renders the situation before him. Izuku has just escaped his quirk.

With a fleeting moment to think, Izuku recollects all the information he’s been provided with.

His quirk involves a weapon locking onto a target. When it activates, he throws the weapon and it fixates onto the target. Even if the target goes out of sight, it still follows. It’s likely not telepathically controlled; if it was, then the man would’ve just directed the dagger into where Izuku still visibly was when his body was still warping.

This likely means that once the man has picked a target — whether it’s the person in general or a certain body part, Izuku doesn’t know — he loses control of the weapon. The dagger just automatically follows the object. 

So, the fact that his complete invisibility when still made the weapon’s trajectory malfunction has to mean something. It could follow the boy just fine even after he was free from the man’s line of sight — so why did it not do the same when Izuku went invisible?

Maybe the villain did know the boy had chosen the right passage — possibly from previous knowledge, or maybe he had seen through the gates. But with Izuku, he didn’t really know his location. For all he knew, Izuku might’ve teleported; the man doesn’t know where Izuku was for certain.

Izuku knows he has to test it out again. This could risk everything — and either give him a loophole to this quirk, or injure him beyond repair.

There are two most likely outcomes. Hell, there could be a dozen — but there are two which are the most probable.

One: the weapon strictly abides by the man’s quirk as soon as it becomes airborne. Once Izuku goes invisible, the weapon loses its target because the quirk itself does not know what happened. Maybe the villain knows that Izuku’s gone invisible — but the quirk cannot dictate whether Izuku disappeared, teleported or has actually gone invisible. The quirk is confused.

Two: this time was just a fluke. Maybe the man can communicate to his quirk to some degree, and the next time Izuku goes completely invisible, the dagger will follow through.

But Izuku knows he doesn’t have much time, because the villain’s momentary stupor is lifted and he reaches for another holster. Izuku barely has enough time to push himself up from the ground and throw himself back a couple feet.

How much time does he have left on his invisibility — maybe around fifteen seconds?

There’s no possible way for Izuku to know which outcome is true for sure. Hell — maybe none of them are. But for the slight chance that the former, optimistic one is right; it may mean that the villain will resort to short distance combat. There’s nothing that hints at the fact that the villain isn’t skilled with weapons without his quirk.

So, with the mere second he has before the knife is airborne, his semi-transparent body launches itself towards the dagger on the floor he had caught and thrown to the side just a few moments ago. The one which he had successfully stopped from harming the boy — the one with deep, pointed serrations.

However, it may prove useful now.

He seizes the weapon, shoving it blade-first into one of the pockets of his cargo pants. By the time he accomplishes that, Izuku’s head shoots up and catches sight of the dagger a few meters away from his face.

His body immediately and forcefully locks still: maybe as a survival instinct, maybe due to his want to prove his theory right — Izuku isn’t too sure. 

His invisibility completely activates its true, cloaked form, and as he hoped, the dagger slows down. It begins twitching and jerking, right before completely halting and dropping. The villain screams out in undiluted frustration.

Suddenly, his eyes lock onto something behind Izuku, and the villain begins to sprint towards it. Within a few seconds, he detaches a dagger from a holster on the right side of the vest and throws it. 

Izuku launches himself at the villain’s legs, right as the invisibility begins flickering off. As if rehearsed, the man — who just threw another dagger, and was in the process of winding up yet another following throw — instead disregards his plans and uses the weapon to stab downwards with no hesitation.

The sudden move catches Izuku off guard. His Perception stat doesn’t even catch it — and Izuku doesn’t have enough time to move his hand away from the villain's strike before it sinks into the skin of his wrist.

The blade enters into a soft area just below the right side of his wrist bone. The sudden influx of red-hot pain travelling up his arm and seizing his chest is indescribable — and even rivals all the second degree burns he’d received from Bakugou.

The knife retracts just as fast as it entered, and Izuku only has a few seconds to do something. So, as anyone would do, Izuku ignores the pain despite how it racks through him as agonising pulses, and he grabs at the man's shoulders, clutching his shirt before using the villain to pull himself up.

Izuku doesn’t get to measure nor restrict the amount of volume he uses in order to get himself up — or rather, his mind is preoccupied with lessening the searing pain of the injury he just received. 

The man stumbles, crashing into Izuku who is in the midst of using him as leverage to pull himself up. Izuku pushes the man back, and successfully manoeuvres himself to be standing.

The villain staggers, disordered and dizzy at the sheer amount of strength exerted by Izuku. 

Izuku now realises that his strength stat can be considered another quirk — well, if people didn’t know about its nature.

Reaching for the pocket of his cargo pants, Izuku flips open the cover flap and grabs the handle of the dagger. He flips the knife, the comb-like serrations biting into the material of his gloves once again. Izuku holds the dagger — blunt handle facing out towards the villain, who now looks at him like he’s crazy.

Izuku mentally thanks his mother for buying a subscription for that one quirkless self defense youtube channel, and he swings.

The blunt handle tip of the dagger slams into the villain's temple with unrestrained power — and he crashes into the ground, head striking the concrete with a loud thud before he completely stills.

Izuku heaves, his unoccupied hand clutching below the wound in order to weakly stop the incessant bleeding. His eyes are wide as he looks at the man on the floor — breathing shallowly, temple bleeding and the military vest which previously was fully equipped now having only three daggers left.

But he only threw around four at me — wait, Izuku panics. His body spins and he almost gets whiplash as his eyes frantically search for the boy — the boy who the villain was chasing after in the first place, and who the villain presumably saw before throwing another knife just as Izuku threw himself at his legs.

However, what Izuku sees once he does turn around both overwhelms and startles him at the same time.

A massive wall of ice is built before the boy; a wall of ice which has around seven knives embedded into it. Izuku can’t see him clearly through the thick, elemental shield — but then the boy walks around it, stands in front of it and then simply stares. 

“You saved me.”

It’s not an expression of gratitude, nor a thank you; it’s a statement. Izuku continues panting, blood slowly pooling at his feet. “Yeah… I did.” The words exit his mouth breathy and raw. The boy just continues staring, seemingly unfazed by the gory scene before him.

“And you could make those ice walls — the whole time?” The rhetorical question exits Izuku’s mouth, bitter and sour despite there being no reason to. The boy didn’t have an obligation to save Izuku in the way Izuku had one to save him — yet, the knowledge that he could have received some help weighs on him.

“Yes.”

“And you didn't think to maybe help me out?” 

“You seemed to be faring well.” He simply answers, presumably unaware of the sharp bite of Izuku’s tone. He blinks as if the reasoning behind his answers is obvious and just continues standing there, staring.

Izuku sighs, overworn and exhausted, and unconsciously shoves the dagger he used to effectively knock out the villain into the pocket of his cargos. He digs into his hoodie pocket, searching for the phone which very well could have fallen out during this entire spectacle, but luckily hadn’t. Izuku directs his tab to the familiar emergency number, typing out the address he’d briefly memorised just before entering the passage’s location.

He turns towards the boy, who is still blatantly staring and not attempting to hide it whatsoever. “Uhm — I texted the police, they should be here shortly. You can stay or go or whatever — but if you do stay, could you do me a favour and not tell them about me?”

Izuku asks with a new, patient tone which sounds as if it’s coated in syrup — but really, it sounds more like a plea. The boy pauses for a moment, nods, and then goes onto his own phone.

Izuku doesn’t pay it any attention, and instead turns around and exits the passage from the way he came from whilst cradling his injured arm.

From afar — a couple buildings down and on a roof, a figure watches.