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Izuku stood just outside the automatic doors of the airport, trying to orient himself. He'd been traveling since yesterday evening, but he'd been through so many timezones since then that he couldn't quite figure out what time his body thought it was supposed to be.
Here in Atlanta, the sky was dark. He'd seen the sunset on his flight over from Los Angeles, before the attendant had asked everyone to close their windows.
Izuku slapped his face, trying to wake himself up. The road ahead of him had six lanes and crawling traffic, a million private cars stopping to pick up or drop off their traveling friends. The bus and taxi stops were farther down to the left.
This trip was only for a few days, so Izuku didn't have luggage besides his backpack. He watched the people around him as he headed left, careful that no one got close enough to pickpocket, or worse, recognize him.
At the taxi stop, Izuku stood and stared until a sympathetic driver waved him over. He'd been practicing for hours, so he didn't have any trouble pronouncing the address of his destination. The driver was just about to pull away when someone grabbed the car door from outside and started yanking at the handle.
Izuku turned to glare at the intruder—he would win, but he didn't want an altercation to begin with.
From the other side of the window, Kacchan crouched to more effectively glare back.
"Kacchan?" Izuku blurted. Quickly, he pulled up the tab to unlock the door.
Wordlessly, Kacchan opened the door and slid into the seat beside him.
"Sir," the cab driver said in English.
"He is my friend!" Izuku replied, waving his hand. This was his second year of English with Present Mic, and he'd watched a lot of All Might videos from his time in America. "It's fine now!"
Meanwhile, Kacchan fastened his seatbelt and threw his back into the seat between them. "Where're we goin'?"
When they arrived at the apartment complex, Kacchan reached between the seats and handed the driver a wad of American cash.
"I can pay," Izuku insisted. Kacchan had already bought a plane ticket.
"Todoroki is paying," Kacchan said, starting to shove Izuku toward the door, "He said to yell at your Dad for him."
Izuku sighed and got out of the car. He didn't want to drag the driver into their argument.
The apartment door was locked. Izuku bit his lip and tried to peer in through the window blinds. It was too dark to see anything.
Kacchan's quirk went off, bright and loud, and the door swung open.
"That's vandalism," Izuku protested.
"He's been unresponsive for weeks," Kacchan said, "And I have permission from a concerned family member."
Izuku walked inside before they could discuss it further. The lights didn't come on when he flicked the switch, but after a moment his eyes adjusted enough to see that there was no furniture, nothing hanging on the walls.
"This is the right place?" Kacchan asked. He held up his good arm and popped his quirk, sending little beams of light shooting around the foyer.
Izuku slipped his shoes off by the door and moved farther into the house. He thought he'd seen something near the far wall, a small bulge on the carpet.
Suddenly, the bump burst open, casting a hologram into the empty air. Izuku took a step back. He recognized the man in the display.
"Midoriya Izuku," All for One said, grinning, "Did you think you could escape by fleeing the country?"
"I'll kill you again!" Kacchan shouted, striding forward, "Die—"
"Shh!" Izuku hissed, clamping a hand over his mouth.
"—following All Might's footsteps," the recording was still saying, "It was obvious that you would seek refuge with your father."
This was definitely a leftover from the war—one of All for One's contingencies, like the forest mansion. "Get ready to run."
Kacchan frowned. "Hah?"
"But I'm sure you're uninterested in my reasoning," All for One's recording went on, "You want to know what has become of dear old Dad."
Unfortunately, that was exactly right. It was the only reason Izuku was still here. "The room might explode."
"Well, you can rest easy," All for One said, "I haven't done anything to the man. In fact, I can honestly say that I wish him only the best."
"Yeah, right," Kacchan scoffed, quieter this time.
"You see, Midoriya Hisashi was a businessman in Shizuokua some twenty years ago, at the same firm as a certain Shimura Kotaro. The two of them were quite close until the latter's tragic death. There was no need for your father after that point—or there wouldn't have been, if I hadn't run into your mother."
Izuku had a bad feeling in his stomach. He knew already the way All for One stuck his fingers into other people's lives and twisted them for his own purposes. he didn't need to know the reason to know this didn't bode well.
"I'm a man with many friends," All for one said, spreading his arms wide, "Shigaraki wasn't the only one I prepared to become the next me. Tell me, Midoriya Izuku, did you know that quirkless people are best equipped to hold extra quirks? That's something we both learned from All Might."
"Does he ever get to the point?" Kacchan said.
"I was born at the dawn of quirks," All for One continued, "My progeny would necessarily be either a ready-made vessel, or else produce a quirk useful for the recapture of my brother. With such a willing participant readily available, it was an easy decision to make. Of course, once I married your mother, Midoriya Hisashi couldn't just disappear. That's why he moved to America, why he stopped video calling after my fight with All Might, when my disguise quirk could no longer produce his face. Don't lie to yourself—you know that I'm telling you the truth."
Izuku swallowed. He did believe it.
"I suspect your mother would die before she became my pawn," All for One said, "But with you so far away, there's no better time to find out. Until next time, Midoriya Izuku—or should I say, son."
The hologram cut out. Izuku stared at the small projector, dead on the floor. Nothing seemed to be exploding. Maybe the trap was too old.
"Your Mom is safe," Kacchan said.
Izuku nodded. "I know." All for One was months dead, his criminal network disbanded. The only incredible thing was that Midoriya Hisashi was still sending money every month. He'd have to ask All Might to investigate if the source was legitimate.
"That potato-faced idiot," Kacchan said, kicking the display, "Couldn't quit creating his own downfall."
"Mmm," Izuku agreed, distracted.
Kacchan turned to glare at him, face barely visible in the dark. "You're thinking something. Spit it out."
Izuku stared down at his hands, scarred from the many times he'd broken them. "I'm—like Shigaraki. Or—he's like me. If All for One had paid me more attention, then—I could have turned out like him."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Kacchan insisted, "Izuku—you want to save people more than anything."
"Thanks Kacchan," Izuku said, smiling. It was true. He just wasn't sure if any of himself would have been left standing if All for One had chosen him instead of All Might.
"Sorry your Dad's dead, I guess," Kacchan said, rubbing his neck, "But I'd kill him again."
"I'm honestly relieved," Izuku said. He wouldn't have to try to convince him to return Mom's calls, to go on wondering if there was something wrong with him, and that's why his Dad never visited. Now there was nothing else to do here. They could go home.
At the airport in Tokyo, Izuku exited the escalator after Kacchan and was met with a familiar face. All Might stood head and shoulders above the crowd, waiting behind the barrier with everyone else expecting an arrival.
Izuku smiled. He didn't feel as if he'd lost anything—he already had everything he needed.