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Quirk Singularity, by Kyudai Garaki
Published 19XX
Quirks: a mutation within the human species that first appeared 130 years prior, on April 4th, 18XX, in Qing Qing, China. ‘The Luminescent Baby’ is the earliest recorded appearance of a Quirk, wherein an infant’s skin began to glow for seemingly no reason. More and more Quirks began to appear, predominantly, but not exclusively, in the East.
This led to the discovery of the single toe joint in Quirked individuals; humans had adapted to have a more streamlined bone structure as well as developed what is now known as a Quirk Factor: the mechanism required for one to use their quirk. The gene that caused these developments is now known as the Alpha Plus gene and is currently found in over 62% of the global population.
With each generation, more and more Quirked individuals are born and the number of Quirkless people dwindles further. The shift in majority, while recent, has come at an exponential rate and shows no signs of slowing down.
As it stands, Quirks have also become more powerful with every generation as typically, the parents’ weaker Quirks form a far stronger combination within their offspring. Furthermore, the manifestation of Quirks has been pushed back significantly. This is only the first indication that Quirks are becoming more difficult for the human body to handle. Where the ‘Luminescent Baby’ manifested their quirk during infancy, it is now during the toddler stage of life that children typically manifest their powers, from the age of three onwards, suggesting manifesting Quirks any sooner could inflict harm onto underdeveloped bodies.
In this journal, further evidence shall be detailed to support the claims but, to provide a brief summary: Quirk Singularity refers to the theory that Quirks are mutating and becoming more powerful at a rate far greater than that the human body is capable of. It can therefore be hypothesised that the human body will eventually be unable to handle the strain Quirks put on them and, as a result, begin to deteriorate due to the severe levels of stress Quirks will inevitably begin to inflict.
Uraraka tells Izuku his eyes look cool.
He blinks owlishly, unsure of how to respond to his friend’s cheer.
“She’s talking about your pupils,” Ashido sing-songs from the other side of the room, unapologetically listening in on his and Uraraka’s conversation, “They’re completely white!”
Yaoyorozu offers him a small mirror and sure enough, the eyes in his reflection show bright green irises that surround pure white pupils.
“Oh, uh, I didn’t realise?”
Izuku’s mind starts running, along with his mouth. Was this a development of his quirk? Did something change? Or was this possibly just the manner in which his power chose to manifest itself, the same way green lightning would shroud his body upon activation of Full Cowl. That doesn’t make sense though, he hadn’t activated his quirk just now. Perhaps it was due to him utilising a greater percentage of his power, now his eyes were simply stuck with his pupils whited out—
Beside him, Uraraka simply smiles at his mostly incoherent ramblings, unable to keep up but content to listen regardless. It’s October, a few days since the Cultural Festival, but most of 1-A are still riding on the high from their performance, leaving them in even higher spirits than usual. It’s getting cold out but the warmth she feels spreading from her chest takes the edge off.
Izuku’s mind continues whirring, thinking as to whether he can think of anyone with a similar side effect from their quirk. His classmates —nope. 1-B —no one. The third years? Perhaps—
Hado!
The second-best hero student in the school was the only other person he could think of who had permanently white pupils instead of regular black ones. Though, that could just be something she was born with? He’d have to ask. But did he have her number? No, he doesn’t think so—
“Uh, if you need to talk to Nejire-senpai, I can text her for you?”
Not for the first time, Izuku finds himself thinking that Uraraka is a godsend.
“Hey hey! Uraraka told me you wanted to talk? What’s up? Did something happen? You gotta tell me! Was it something with your quirk? Speaking of, why do you spark? Do you have an electricity-type quirk? That would be so coo—”
“Hado, I think you need to slow down if you want him to respond.”
Izuku’s shoulders slump in relief, sending a grateful look to Amajiki for interrupting. Hado laughs lightly, tilting her head to the side.
“My bad! What did you need to ask me, Midoriya?”
Eri and Mirio chatter absently in the background, Amajiki watching them with a small smile on his face. Izuku swallows quietly before properly facing Hado, her eyes wide and curious.
And her pupils, fully white.
“Um, actually I wanted to ask about your quirk, if that’s okay?”
“My quirk? Sure! My quirk’s called Wave Motion. It’s cool, right? I can convert vitality into dischargeable energy and I use that to fly and for close-combat but it works best when I use it for long-range attacks, like my Nejire Flood! That’s basically when I use 100% of my power—”
“You calculate your power output with percentages too?”
Izuku starts, realising he interrupted and scrambles to apologise but Hado just smiles brightly.
“Yup! You do that as well? That’s awesome! I guess our quirks are kind of similar, then. Your energy just manifests itself as super strength instead of energy you can shoot out, right?”
“Ah, kind of?” he says, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he tries to explain without letting himself get lost in his ramblings. “My quirk stockpiles power and lets me use it at will to enhance physical abilities. The repercussions depend on my physical strength, so the stronger I get, the more my body can handle. Right now I can only use about 20% without hurting myself.”
“Seriously?! Aw, that’s one hell of a drawback. My quirk mostly relies on stamina, so I don’t think I can give you much advice. Sorry, Midoriya.”
“Oh no no no! Don’t worry about it, I actually wanted to ask something else.” Izuku stops, pointing to his eyes. “I wanted to ask about your eyes. Have they always been white?”
Hado blinks, seemingly taken aback and Izuku hurries to fill the quiet.
“I mean—I just wanted to ask since you’re the only other person I could think of who has solid white pupils, and mine only turned white recently. Like, really recently. I-only-noticed-this-morning-recently.”
She stops, breaking into a grin and slamming a fist into the palm of her other hand.
“I thought you looked different! Wait, then our quirks are really similar! My eyes turned white during second year. We were working on our ultimate moves and it was the first time I used my Nejire Flood!”
“I remember that,” Amajiki adds from the side. “You blew a whole in the auditorium roof. Cementoss gave you detention for a week.”
Hado huffs and pouts at him. “Why’s that what you remember?”
Amajiki shrugs and smiles in response, making his way over to sit with them.
“Was there a specific event that triggered your eyes changing colour?” he asks quietly.
Izuku takes a deep breath to answer, only to realise he doesn’t really know.
“Uh. Well…I’m not sure. Maybe since I started using my quirk at 20%?“
“Huh. Maybe because your quirk puts so much strain on your body?”
Amajiki tilts his head thoughtfully. “You think it’s the strain from your quirks causing it?”
Hado shrugs. “I mean, I guess it could just be a coincidence. I just figured it was a mutation my quirk caused but if it’s happened to both of us, then the only thing we have in common is using high levels of our quirks.”
Izuku nods, opening his notebook while both his upperclassmen blink owlishly, trying to figure out where he pulled it from.
“There’s only two of us, so I guess we can’t conclusively say it’s the strain. Hado-senpai is right, maybe our quirks just cause similar mutations. Still, I guess it’s worth looking into.”
He scribbles something down, adding notes to both his and Hado’s sections before closing it shut and looking back up at the seniors with a bright smile.
“Thanks so much for your help!”
Izuku tries to do his own research. There isn’t much he can find.
White pupils out of nowhere - is this normal??
My pupils randomly turned white today, do I need to see a doctor?
New quirk mutation - white pupils
Most of the search results lead to forum posts asking for advice, and the replies mostly consist of going to a quirk specialist or telling them it’s probably just their quirk developing. Izuku takes a few notes and keeps digging but eventually his alarm rings, signalling he’s spent the entire night on his laptop and he has roughly an hour to get ready for class, and all he has to show for it is half a page of dead ends.
Izuku sighs, pushing himself from his desk and figures he can probably just close his eyes for a few seconds between lessons. It isn’t the first time he’s had to go without sleep. His head aches and his movements are sluggish but he makes sure to take a painkiller for breakfast and figures he’ll be fine.
Kacchan yells at him for almost bumping into him.
Izuku reaches for his phone just before he leaves and almost drops it the second he sees his reflection surrounded by black mist and glowing eyes. He whips his head backwards, thinking it must have been Dark Shadow but the only thing behind him is the bright light of morning shining through the windows.
When Izuku glances back at his phone, the billowy black mist is gone, leaving his own pale and shaken face in the reflection.
He groans softly, dragging a hand down his face. Someone—Uraraka, judging by the finger pads—slides him a coffee and he quietly mutters a thank you.
Maybe All Might had a point about all nighters being bad for you.
He sees the mist again in a dream.
Except this time it clears enough for eight figures to make themselves visible.
“So, you’re the ninth…“
Izuku wakes up to shattered glass, a glowing hand and the sound of his own panting.
Sleep doesn’t seem to be helping.
They have joint training with 1-B and Black Whip manifests, wild and untamed.
It’s been a while since Izuku’s quirk actively hurt him, and he feels himself falling further and further behind once again.
Fifth speaks to him.
His friends are in danger and he’s the one causing it so failing is no longer an option. He can’t let them down.
Izuku throws inhibition to the side and struggles through the sharp pain along his arms. Black Whip listens.
He gets used to the appearance of the vestiges whenever he sleeps for longer than half an hour, or when he walks past a mirror. He knows he’s going to develop six additional quirks, including Black Whip, on top of the enhancement quirk he has already. No big deal.
Another consequence Izuku learns to get used to is the constant lethargy he feels. There’s hardly a time where he’s not tired; he goes to sleep exhausted and wakes up even more so. At this point, Izuku figures he’s running on a combination of caffeine and stubbornness.
His friends notice. They’re heroes-in-training, it’s only natural they’d have a sixth sense when it comes to spotting someone in trouble. But, for as much as they ask and prod, Izuku has a lifetime of dodging his mother’s concern under his belt. Redirecting the conversation away from himself is an art that he’s long since mastered.
But then the lethargy begins to grow and mutate as the days turn to weeks and soon enough, Izuku is left with a constant ache in his bones and a head that spins whenever he moves unexpectedly. He chalks most of it up to chronic pain; another consequence of his own shortcomings. The vertigo is much more concerning, though, especially with One For All enhancing his speed and agility. Izuku finds that while his quirk is activated, the increase in durability extends to his tolerance so he’s able to grit his teeth behind his metal mask and bare the dizziness until his world stops tilting.
He manages to keep his class ranking, but it’s by the skin of his teeth. That’s another thing, studying seems to take twice as long as it used to for Izuku’s brain to actually absorb any content and he finds he has to skip dinner most nights just to keep up with his peers.
The vestiges are getting clearer in his dreams. Their forms no longer surprise him whenever he spots his reflection surrounded by shadowy figures. Controlling Black Whip isn’t getting any easier, though.
Izuku trains with Katsuki almost every other evening, trying to get a handle on his quirk but the progress he makes is next to nothing. Katsuki makes sure to tell him as much. All Might doesn’t argue. Neither does Izuku; he’s right, after all.
Izuku wakes up one Monday, his face feeling far too hot considering the chilly weather. His extremities, however, are far too cold. His healed bones ache so much more than usual that Izuku briefly considers knocking himself out just to make it all stop.
Unfortunately, a deep sleep almost guarantees him a trip to the vestige world. He shouldn’t be afraid of them—which is good because he’s not. Afraid. Why would he be? They’re heroes after all, heroes who lost their lives fighting to protect. They’re his predecessors and Izuku can think of nothing he wants more than to make them proud—to make sure their sacrifices weren’t in vain.
But there is something about the way they carry themselves in their own world. The way Izuku is kept at an arm’s length. A guest, rather than a member of their forged family. A spector, even. It stings more than it has any right to.
Of course, they’d want to keep Izuku at a distance , the boy reasons as he forces himself out of bed and shuffles around his room, getting ready for the day ahead. He hasn’t done anything to prove himself worthy of One For All, not yet. Oh god, what if they agree with Sir Nighteye? What if they’ve already decided he isn’t worthy and that’s why they’re trying to cut him off—
Izuku lets out a broken gasp, trying to quell the thoughts rampaging throughout his mind. A crooked hand clamps over his mouth as he regulates his breathing. He walks past the mirror and is met with the usual sight of eight figures huddled around his form.
What is less usual is Izuku himself; he’s looked worse for wear for the past month or so but this morning he looks absolutely haggard. His hair is wilder than usual and getting long enough to occasionally obscure the edges of his vision. The circles under his eyes are darker than they were last night and his clothes don’t fit quite right, baggier than they’re supposed to be. His cheeks are noticeably flushed and Izuku sighs as he begins rifling through his doors to find a mask to wear around his classmates, not wanting them to catch whatever bug he’s come down with.
Izuku pulls a plain black mask on his face and ensures to cover everywhere from his jaw to the bridge of his nose. The pink hue across his cheeks is still visible above the mask’s edge but Izuku simply hopes his friends will let it go.
They do, after some initial probing. Izuku thanks the fates for their mercy; he doesn’t think he has the energy to come up with an excuse, let alone make it convincing.
Aizawa raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t comment, instead turning to face the board and give the class today’s announcements.
All things considered, Izuku thinks he’s been doing fairly well in keeping his fever to himself.
Then, all his efforts come crumbling down.
Cementoss— they’re in Literature class now, Homeroom ended a while ago, Izuku has to remind himself—tells the class to drop their assignments on his desk at the front of the room. Izuku takes his time, neatly printing the characters of his name on the back of his sheet.
“Midoriya? Your assignment?”
“Ah, yes! Right here, sir!”
Izuku scrambles to get up and he makes it about two steps from his desk before a sudden dizzy spell catches him off guard. He’s halfway through his third step when Izuku feels his grip on his sheet slacken and watches as the paper drifts from his hand and onto the tiled floor. The paper keeps moving even after it hits the ground but, to be fair, Izuku’s vision is swimming so he supposes that might just be him. The only thing he’s sure about is the fact that the floor is definitely getting closer to his face.
He barely catches the panicked shouts of his name from all different angles before his mind finally goes dark.
He wakes up in the infirmary.
The curtains around his bed shield him from any view, but he makes out Recovery Girl and All Might’s hushed whispers.
“—For All—”
“You think—his quirk—”
“—Only explana—”
Izuku moves as silently as he can, pushing himself up and out of bed so he can hear them properly.
“He hasn’t overexerted himself using his quirk, as far as I can tell,” All Might says.
“I’ve already checked the logs for the gym and Midoriya hasn’t been in there outside of class-allocated training for days. His symptoms all point to quirk exhaustion, though.” Izuku hears Recovery Girl swivel in her chair. “I can only assume this has to be due to the nature of his quirk.”
“I just don’t understand how One For All can be the cause…I never had any issues like this when I still held the quirk. Perhaps it’s getting stronger?“
Recovery Girl hums and Izuku figures it’s time to make his presence known.
He pulls back the curtain and tries not to wince as both their heads snap towards him.
“…Did I miss something?”
Izuku is given painkillers to help with the headaches and is granted the rest of today and tomorrow off school to rest.
He tries to argue but Recovery Girl narrows her eyes and Izuku thinks nothing is worth the impending lecture. He caves embarrassingly quickly. All Might snorts but the joke is on him, because Recovery Girl rounds on him and unleashes her rant on him while Izuku makes his escape, shooting his mentor an apologetic smile that All Might returns.
His friends catch him as he makes his way out of UA’s main building.
“Deku!”
“Midoriya!”
“Are you alright?”
“You look like you’re about to fall over, ribbit.”
Izuku aims her a deadpan stare.
“Thanks, Asui.”
“Start calling me Tsu and I’ll think about being nicer.”
He shakes his head with a laugh and regrets it almost immediately, his head spinning with the motion so much that he instinctively grabs onto Todoroki’s arm to keep himself upright.
“Sorry—sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” Todoroki affirms, putting a hand on Izuku’s back and taking on some of his weight. “We’ll walk you back to the dorms.”
“Ah, but isn’t lunch almost over? You need to get to class…“
Iida adjusts his glasses. “That’s true. However, as Class Representative, it is my duty to make sure you follow any and all instructions Recovery Girl gave you, which I highly doubt you would do otherwise!”
“Basically we’re not letting you out of our sight until you’re in bed!” Uraraka chirps, taking his other arm and helping Todoroki steady him.
Izuku drops his head downwards, conceding defeat.
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it, Deku!” Uraraka says, pumping a fist in the air before fitting back into his side. “You can count on us!”
Izuku doesn’t know how he survived so long without friends, but it’s something he hopes he never has to get used to again.
Izuku is sixteen when he finds his first grey hairs.
Though, to be fair, it isn’t even him who finds it.
“The fuck? You already turning into an old man, damned Deku?!”
Kacchan tugs on a tuft of his hair as they walk down the corridor to meet up with Todoroki and Endeavour for the first day of their internship. Izuku blinks and uses his phone camera as a mirror and, sure enough, there are strands of grey amidst his typical green. Or rather, strands of white, too pale to be silver.
It’s not too odd. People start losing colour in their hair at all different ages. Izuku reckons he’s just starting a little sooner than most.
He notes it down in the back of his mind anyway.
“Oi! You listening? Or does being old affect your hearing too?”
Izuku pointedly looks forward and flashes a smile he knows is sure to piss Kacchan off.
“Aren’t you older than me? If I’m old, what does that make you?”
They both get scolded for running through the halls.
Izuku bares it with a sheepish grin.
Endeavour learns about Izuku’s quirk hurting him and calls him one of us, and he finds himself wondering what exactly he means.
Things come head-to-head in Jaku.
Izuku finds himself locked in a death match against his mentor’s archnemesis’ successor. Yeah, it’s a mouthful, but Izuku doesn’t know what else to call him.
Murderer, he thinks, could be a fitting name. Villain.
Except there is more to it than that, because Shigaraki then calls him brother. Little brother and suddenly everything screams so so wrong.
From the corner of his eye he sees Ryukyu and Aizawa on the ground, Manuel and Rock Lock keeping them safe while Endeavour, Todoroki and Kacchan stand by in case they are needed.
Izuku arcs through the air, colliding with Shigaraki again and again, Black Whip and Float working in tandem to keep him from being killed. Wind rushes past his face and through his hair, blood dripping off in his wake as he moves in to land another strike against not-Shigaraki’s body.
He blinks and suddenly there are black spears heading towards him and Izuku thinks this is the moment he’s been waiting for; the one he’s been dreading because he is Deku and he’s finally going to let everyone down.
Blood fills his vision.
It’s not Izuku’s.
Kacchan—
He’s in the vestige world, Shigaraki on his knees and All for One pulling invisible strings to keep him there.
Izuku’s predecessors stand over him while Izuku reaches forward aimlessly, not quite knowing what he wants to do, only that he needs to move.
Because Shigaraki is awful. He is twisted and evil. He hurts and he kills and Izuku will never be able to forgive him for trying to hurt those he cares about—
But he looks like he needs saving.
And Izuku has never been able to abandon someone who needs him.
Iida tries to get Kacchan to safety.
Except it’s Kacchan so he ends up back in the midst of battle as Izuku helps fight alongside Todoroki, broken limbs screaming as he does. Izuku screams back, proclaiming that Todoroki is his precious friend and gives his all in keeping Dabi as far away as he can.
At some point, he falls asleep.
Well, falls unconscious might be more accurate but nevertheless, the next time Izuku wakes, it is to a steady beep, three limbs weighed down in casts and the ceiling hauntingly white.
Three—
Three—
One for All shouldn’t be killing him because he is quirkless. Just like All Might.
Izuku keeps his mouth shut over the other side effects he’s experiencing. It makes no difference; they already seem to have an idea. Severe quirk exhaustion, some of them consider.
Second and Third stay silent.
The topic changes and they test him, test whether his heroism is true. Apparently, Izuku gives the right answer because Nana cries as she asks him to save Tenko.
She doesn’t have to.
All Might tells him he’s already contacted Izuku’s mother, as well as a friend on I-Island that specialises in support technology. David Shield is on a flight to Japan, bringing all the equipment needed to replace his right arm with him, should Izuku consent.
All Might sets a hand on his forehead when he stops responding. “Young Midoriya, you’re burning up!”
Izuku looks to the side, several figures in the door. His vision blurs, his head spins and won’t stop. The world moves too fast and Izuku can’t keep up.
He thinks his mother calls his name. Izuku misses when her arms wrapping around him were enough to chase his troubles away.
Izuku accepted One for All thinking he would use it to become the greatest hero the world had ever known.
It was a gift from his hero.
Only it doesn’t feel like a gift anymore.
David Shield replaces his lost right arm with a metal one.
“Melissa helped design it,” he tells Izuku after the surgery. “She wished she could’ve come with me.”
“Please tell her I said thank you.”
Izuku’s mother cries when the arm activates for the first time. She throws her arms around his shoulders and for the first time since he lost it, he can hug her back the way he always has. Well, almost. The metal joints between his fingers get caught in the material of her cardigan and tear a hole in it when he tries to detangle himself.
Izuku’s jaw falls open, apologies already forming but his mother simply laughs, cupping his cheek with her palm and smiling despite the tears in her eyes.
She is proud of him.
For what exactly, Izuku cannot quite figure out.
Izuku doesn’t tell All Might. Not yet.
The man takes it upon himself to be by Izuku’s side throughout his recovery, cheering him on as he learns to use and fight with his right. Even with All Might and Nedzu’s combined connections guaranteeing the most renowned doctors and nurses assisting his recovery with their quirks, it takes until the final few days of March for Izuku to throw a real punch.
His nerves end and metal begins at his shoulder, circuitry connecting to his nerves and giving him full control over the appendage. One for All continues to glow beneath the metal plating as the wind generated from his attack dies down.
“Young Midoriya—”
“I’m okay.”
He turns the arm—his arm, he corrects—and tenses and untenses his fingers, making sure everything still works. The Shields are known worldwide for their advancements in technology. Izuku can see why.
There’s a knock on the door that Izuku doesn’t bother turning to face.
“Yo, All Might. And…Midoriya, right?”
Izuku blows some hair out of his face. He’s starting to get sick of the colour white.
“Hawks. Jeanist. Is there something you need?”
Izuku has always wanted to help people.
But as he listens to Hawks and Best Jeanist speak, he starts to think that desire is what will get him killed.
He has to leave UA.
All Might knows. Nedzu knows and promises to tell his teachers. Best Jeanist, Hawks and Endeavour know, as well as a few more heroes Izuku will be teaming up with.
They know but they don’t know because Izuku hasn’t told them everything. He can’t.
As far as they’re concerned, Izuku is going to play bait. To lure All for One out.
What they don’t know is that Izuku doesn’t intend to come back after this mission.
Not on purpose; he’d love to be able to return to UA and be by his friends’ sides. To smile and laugh with them again one day.
But he doesn’t have that luxury.
There is a moment the night before he is scheduled to leave, where he almost gives in to weakness and tries to run far away, where not even All Might can follow and put himself in danger for Izuku’s sake.
He gets up from bed and his legs start moving towards the door. He makes it a step down the hall before he bumps into a lanky figure and falls flat on his behind, quickly rolling onto his left side so his prosthetic doesn’t clatter loudly on the ground.
“Woops. Sorry, listener! Didn’t mean to knock you over!”
Izuku rubs the side of his head and almost yelps when his hair accidentally gets caught in his joints.
“Haha, let me help.”
Present Mic loosens his hair strand by strand until Izuku can move without feeling a sharp pinch against his scalp.
“I was actually coming down here to look for you, Midoriya.”
“Is everything okay?”
They know—
“Eri asked for you. Said she had a nightmare and wanted to know if you’d be willing to sit with her for a while.”
“Oh. Of course.”
He shouldn’t feel relieved. But…
“But wouldn’t Mirio be better?”
She needs to get used to not having Izuku around.
But his teacher doesn’t know that and simply looks at him oddly, tilting his head as though Izuku has just said something absurd and the scrutiny makes Izuku hunch in on himself.
“Uh, sorry. Nevermind. Where is she?”
Mic leads him to the faculty dorm and through to Eri’s bedroom. Izuku finds her laying in bed, the covers pulled up to her nose and her eyes focused on the far wall. She only looks away when the door creaks, her eyes snapping forward and then blinking harshly when Mic switches the light on.
“Hey, little listener. Look who I brought!”
“Deku!” she cries, tossing her covers to the side and rushing towards him.
Izuku drops to one knee and catches her easily, lifting her up so she can bury her face into his shoulder.
“Bad dream?” he asks as he carries her back to her bed.
“Bad dream.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“…No thank you.”
Izuku nods and sets her down before pulling the covers up and over her lap. She stays sitting, not letting go of Izuku’s flesh hand quite yet.
“Can you stay for a bit?”
“Sure!” He smiles as warmly as he can. Izuku opens his mouth and tells her stories about his friends, all the things they’d gotten up to that day. He tells her about Aizawa and his prosthetic leg and eyepatch, as well as show off the way he can make his own prosthetic glow.
“It’s pretty,” Eri tells him. “And your hair. It looks like mine, now!”
“Oh yeah, I guess it does!”
“Mhm. Just…shorter. And messier.”
Mic snorts from where he leans against the door frame.
Eri grabs the end of her hair. “Maybe I could cut mine too…“
“If you’d like to then go for it.”
She smiles tiredly. “Okay!”
They keep talking about nothing until Eri can’t suppress her yawns any longer and lays down once again. She keeps hold of Izuku’s hand.
“I’m glad you’re here, Deku.”
Izuku winces but Eri’s eyes are already closing so she misses it.
“Of course, Eri. I promised, remember?”
Eri gives him a tiny smile through sleepy eyes and in a few more minutes her breathing evens out and her hand goes slack.
Izuku gently tucks it against her side.
Mic doesn’t ask him why his eyes are red.
Izuku stays up the rest of the night writing notes for his classmates. He hopes they don’t mind the tear stains.
He leaves with All Might the next morning after dropping each letter off outside his classmates’ respective doors.
Izuku tells them about One for All.
He stops himself before writing out any permanent goodbyes, though. They don’t need to know.
It’s easier that way.
Things are going well until suddenly they aren’t because Izuku is more trouble than he’s worth and he has to leave All Might behind as well.
“You don’t have to follow me anymore.”
Not looking back is one of the hardest things Izuku has ever had to do.
The other heroes keep in contact. Barely.
He lets them know every so often that he isn’t dead. Or that he’s disposed of another villain. Or that new information about All for One’s whereabouts have come up.
Dizzy spells come and go. He doesn’t eat as often so he doesn’t throw up as much either. Izuku starts relying on adrenalin to keep him going.
After all, he has a job to do. He can rest when he’s dead done.
The dictator keeps the civilians under his control and Izuku keeps trying to apologise over their panicked voices.
“It’s fine. I’ll get you out of this. I’ll save you.”
Hand tears at his clothes and at his limbs. Boots kick and dig into his body while nails leave scratches all over his skin.
Izuku will never give up. He won’t. He can’t.
But he his eyes begin falling shut as his body starts shutting down and Izuku thinks no no no, not now, but pleading has never gotten him anywhere. It’s not going to start now.
His vision darkens at the edges and it’s only because someone yanks sharply on his hair that he stays awake.
He is glad he does though, because there’s a loud boom and sparks glow in his periphery.
And suddenly the hands all stop.
His classmates come for him.
Because of course they do.
They challenge him.
“You’ve got something more important in your life.”
Izuku almost laughs at Kaminari’s words.
“I’m begging you to leave! I mean it, I’m fine!” Izuku screams out.
He cannot help but feel pride bubble and swirl in his stomach as he watches them work together, even if it is to take him down.
Izuku tells Mineta that, “The old me is gone.”
It’s true. Izuku can’t be a dumb little kid anymore. He is too old and too realistic to think smiling will save anyone, let alone everyone he needs to protect.
“You can’t keep up with me!”
Once, Izuku reckons his biggest fear in life would have been his friends turning on him. Leaving him behind just like in elementary school. But now all he can think is please, please just leave me.
Izuku tries to flee, to avoid hurting his classmates anymore than he already has but then a hand grips his own.
“Ingenium the hero…”
He wants them all to stay far away. To go back to UA, behind it’s reinforced walls where All for One has less of a chance of reaching them.
“…will dash across the land to take a lost child by the hand,” Iida tells him firmly, squeezing Izuku’s metal hand in his own.”
Because Izuku is weak, he’s weak and he’s afraid that he isn’t enough to protect them.
“Because giving help that’s not asked for…is what makes a true hero.”
And if that wasn’t enough, Kacchan bows his head.
“For everything up until now…I’m sorry…Izuku.”
Izuku is such an idiot. His friends are amazing and he never should have questioned that.
They were also wrong.
He isn’t welcome at UA.
Izuku had expected as much and turns on his heel to acquiesce to the civilians demands the moment Shouji lets him down.
Uraraka stops him, and Izuku doesn’t know quite what it is but something in her expression makes him stop and listen. It’s the least he can do for his closest friend. Her hand is smaller than his, but somehow infinitely stronger. She holds tightly, squeezing warmth into his shaking fingers.
Uraraka doesn’t let him go. Not this time, and for a moment Izuku kids himself that perhaps not ever.
She convinces them to let him stay, and Izuku falls to his knees in gratitude.
And exhaustion. But mostly gratitude.
Kota runs up to take his hand and walks with him to the infirmary until Ragdoll comes to collect him.
Recovery Girl looks grave when she checks him over. Neither All Might nor his mother look much better.
Quirk Exhaustion doesn’t begin to cover it.
Izuku keeps sipping on the glass of water she brought him.
“I’m afraid we might need to refer to a quirk specialist regarding this. Mrs Midoriya, I presume you know the true nature of his quirk?”
“Yes,” she says quietly, so delicately that Izuku has to look away from the guilt.
Recovery Girl nods gently, putting a hand on his mother’s knee. “The previous wielders of One for All died relatively young, either because All for One killed them or because the toll of the quirk was too great.” She turns to face All Might, “You were an exception because you were previously quirkless.”
Inko tenses beside him, her grip on his hand tightening “So, the same should be true for Izuku, right?”
Recovery Girl’s lips curl inward into a straight line. “That’s the thing,” she answers, swiping on a tablet. “We can’t be sure Midoriya is actually quirkless. It’s possible he simply had an invisible quirk that went undetected, meaning One for All is too much for his body.”
“I have the double-toe joint,” Izuku tells her in lieu of answering.
She raises a silver eyebrow. “Pardon?”
Izuku blinks, looking between her, his mother and All Might.
“The double-toe joint that indicates quirklessness.”
“Yes, All Might, I’m aware of what it is.” All Might shrinks and holds his hands up in surrender. “What I don’t understand is why you all seem to think Izuku has it.”
Izuku tilts his head in confusion, as does his mother. “I was diagnosed when I was five.”
Inko nods. “I took him to see a specialist and he showed us an x-rays of Izuku’s foot. He has the double-toe joint.”
“I’ve treated Midoriya many times since he started at UA,” Izuku winces but Recovery Girl continues anyway, “I’ve had to take numerous x-rays because he kept breaking his limbs, and I can assure you I’ve never seen a double-joint.” She swipes on her tablet for a few moments, before pulling up one from right after the USJ incident. Recovery Girl zooms in before turning it to show them a close up.
She’s right. There isn’t a double-joint in sight.
“The doctor…made a mistake?” Inko furrows her brows, confusion and borderline anger burning in her eyes.
Neither Recovery Girl nor All Might are that hopeful.
“I suppose it’s possible. Mrs Midoriya, do you remember the name of that doctor?”
“Dr. Garaki, I believe? He was our family doctor up until he transferred to a different hospital a few years ago.”
“Garaki?!”
Izuku snaps his head to the side at the boom in All Might’s voice, jerking in his mother’s hold.
“All Might? What is it?”
Shadows conceal All Might’s eyes, his golden bangs drooping over his face.
Izuku’s family doctor turns out to be All for One’s longest serving and most loyal subject.
Just his luck.
Once All Might gets off the phone with Tsukauchi, the first thing Izuku says is:
“So One for All is actually killing me. That’s what you’re saying?”
Recovery Girl turns sombre. “We can’t be sure it’s killing you, but considering there’s a decent chance you had a quirk that is either latent or was stolen, it’s a possibility.”
“But if he doesn’t have a quirk now, why is it still—still hurting him?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs Midoriya. I’ve never heard of something like this before so I don’t have all the answers.”
“Perhaps not,” All Might interrupts. “But I’m sure there is something Garaki can still tell us.”
Izuku turns to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he rejected his bento and left him behind. Almost immediately, All Might softens, his demeanor changing into that of a hero trying to comfort a crying child.
“You don’t have to come, my—Midoriya. Either myself or Tsukauchi will fill you in as soon as—”
“Please,” he interjects. “I want to be there.”
Because part of him feels somewhat like he’s floating. Like he’s not really here because here isn’t even real. He thinks hearing it, seeing the Doctor for the first time in years with his own eyes will help anchor him to the ground. Maybe.
Regardless, it’s a chance he doesn’t want to risk not taking.
“I’m coming as well.”
Inko leaves no room for argument.
Everything that happened in Jaku was for the sake of capturing the Doctor. The one All for One entrusted everything to.
Izuku thinks, for an optimistic moment, that the fruit from his interrogation would be the tipping point in the war, finally putting the odds in their favour.
He should’ve known better.
The three of them are allowed to sit in on one of the interrogations.
Izuku keeps his eyes on the man sitting on the other side of the tempered glass.
His moustache is bushy and wild, his scalp shiny and reflecting the fluorescent light. He isn’t wearing his goggles though, so it takes Izuku a second to recognise him.
“Your son is quirkless. It’s probably best for him to give up on his dream.”
Izuku gulps, and hopes his face doesn’t betray his unsettled nerves.
“Izuku? Are you okay?”
Izuku leans into his mother’s side but keeps facing forward.
The interrogator tells the Doctor they’re there. The Doctor turns to the glass. Izuku knows he can’t see them, but somehow his eyes still seem to land on Izuku.
He stops, whispers something under his breath and then throws his head back so hard Izuku worries for a split second that it might disconnect from his body. The man laughs, the sound harsh and grating.
“What’s going on?” All Might barks, eyes lighting in fury at the display of mockery.
Then the Doctor looks, without actually seeing, in Izuku’s direction. He stares as though he’s found something precious, eyes sparkling maniacally.
“I found my perfect specimen.”
Izuku freezes, his mentor’s hold on his shoulder tightening.
“Huh?” someone asks.
“Specimen? The guy’s finally lost it.”
“What the hell is he—”
The Doctor keeps talking. He talks about the emergence of quirks, about the strain and the human body not being able to keep up.
He talks about headaches and lethargy. About vertigo and loss of appetites.
About hair losing its pigment, and pupils appearing white when the light hits them just so.
Izuku tries to think about the last time he ate. Or at least, the last time he felt hungry. The last time he finished a meal without wanting to throw it up again.
The Doctor mentions a life expectancy. Anywhere from years to months, depending on the severity.
Izuku feels two sets of eyes turn to him, boring into his skin and, specifically, into his scalp. His mother’s fingers dig into his arm, as though she can keep him there for longer simply by holding on. Izuku reaches up with his flesh hand and rakes it through his hair, fluffy and white. It’s long enough to reach his eyes when he looks down, sparsely blocking the edges of his vision.
They do nothing to impede the sight of the Doctor’s grin. He never stops grinning.
The drive back to UA is quiet.
The first one to speak is none of them, actually. Recovery Girl breaks the silence once they are all behind the privacy of her office door.
“Tsukauchi filled me in. And I need to make this clear; there is no guarantee what Garaki said is absolute or even remotely true. We still need to look into this further—”
“But,” Izuku finishes for her.
“But,” she concedes, frowning at nothing and everything at once. “I’m sorry.”
Izuku still can’t tell if this is real.
His mother’s tears dripping into his hair are, though.
“I’m sorry, Izuku!” she said.
“I’m sorry, Izuku…I’m so so sorry...“
It sounds worse now.
“I asked Recovery Girl if you returning One for All would help. I made Tsukauchi ask Garaki, too.”
All Might leans against the railings of the bridge. They’re still within UA’s walls, loitering by a pond long after sunset. Izuku mimics his pose, pretending like his heart doesn’t ache.
“Not that I’d consider it, but what did they say?”
All Might makes a face as though he is physically in pain. “Recovery Girl said it probably wouldn’t make much difference considering how much damage has already been done. Also it’d leave you open to attack should All for One decide to target you.”
“And Garaki?”
All Might scowls and his whole demeanour darkens. “He laughed and said to let him know the results.”
Izuku snorts, and then sobers quickly when All Might’s words settle over him properly.
“Did you ever want it back? Before all of this, I mean.” He flexes his metal hand, his shoulder creaking as he lifts it. The metal is light enough not to be too much of a strain, but Izuku never gave himself the chance to get used to it, throwing himself into harm’s way the first chance he got.
All Might sets a hand on his shoulder, pulling his attention to him.
“I felt guilty for burdening you, especially at such a young age. I still do. I wished I could’ve been strong enough to defeat All for One myself so you wouldn’t have to continue my fight. That I could’ve spared you that hardship. I’ve made plenty of mistakes and I have many regrets in my life, Young Midoriya.”
All Might lets go of one shoulder, puts a hand on Izuku’s back, and pulls him against his rattling chest.
“But you have never been one of them.”
If anyone knows what it’s like to be dying, it’s All Might.
On the walk back to Height’s Alliance, parents shield their children as Izuku goes past, stealing curious and disdainful glances at the redness around Izuku’s eyes.
All Might’s arm around his shoulders is the only thing that keeps him from leaving.
Quirk Singularity, by Kyudai Garaki
Published 19XX
That night, Izuku finds the journal’s introduction online.
It takes hours of digging and filtering through searches to find one that doesn’t require a password to access, and even then it’s only the introduction that’s available.
But in the end none of that matters because he only makes it a few paragraphs before his eyes start to get blurry.
It can therefore be hypothesised that the human body will eventually be unable to handle the strain Quirks put on them and, as a result, begin to deteriorate due to the severe levels of stress Quirks will begin to inflict.
If there’s a right way to react to finding out you’re dying, then Izuku definitely doesn’t know it.
He feels resentful. Towards All Might. Towards All for One and One for All. Towards himself, for not being born with a quirk. Towards quirks for appearing in the first place.
And then he is sickeningly grateful that it is him who will end the curse.
It’s still technically keeping his promise to All Might, after all.
Izuku falls to his knees, surrounded by his friends.
After showering and sleeping for at least three consecutive hours, Izuku is dressed in something other than rags and tatters. He sits on the common room floor and opens his mouth to say thank you, to reassure them he’s okay, or at least that he will be. To apologise for causing them so much trouble.
What comes out is:
“I’m dying.”
It’s the first time he’s said it outloud.
“You said it, dude.”
“Same.”
“Oof. Mood.”
Izuku laughs wetly.
“No. One for All is killing me. I’m just trying to finish off All for One before it does.”
Izuku speaks until his throat hurts and he can’t see and can hardly talk because of how hard he’s crying.
“All the past users died young. I thought it wouldn’t happen to me because it didn’t happen to All Might, we were both quirkless when we got One for All but now—” Izuku sucks in a deep breath. “Something’s gone wrong and I don’t know what exactly but I’m—”
He’s dying—he’s dying. Izuku is sixteen and already nearing the end of his life and there isn’t anything he can do to stop it, barring killing someone else by passing on his godforsaken quirk.
His classmates’ faces turn from confusion to horror to anguish and anger and anything in between. There are a few moments where everything seems to stand still except for Izuku’s shaking shoulders and the pouring rain, and then the first choked denial comes out.
“No way. There has to be something…“ Uraraka holds out a hand, hovering for a split second before she throws her arms around Izuku and squeezes as tightly as she dares. “We don’t—what if there’s another way—”
“Yeah!” Kirishima cries, Ashido nodding frantically and drying her wet eyes at the same time.
“Have you talked to Recovery Girl?”
“Maybe there’s another doctor that could help?”
“I don’t think so.”
Kacchan stays uncharacteristically quiet, eyes blown wide and dimming by the second. Izuku can’t help but think he’s been blessed to live long enough to hear Kacchan apologise—in all honesty, he’d never actually expected him to—but he figures saying as such will make things worse so he bites his tongue.
“But there is a chance!” Aoyama insists, hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles are almost translucent.
Denying it makes everything seem all the more real.
He’s glad he’s already on the ground, because the weight of reality collapses onto his shoulders.
Izuku gulps, shakes his head and chokes out with a bitter smile, “I don’t think so.”
“I’m dying,” he repeats, eyes watery and his lower lip trembling. “Probably before graduation.”
He never wanted this. No matter how bad things had ever gotten, Izuku had never genuinely considered ending his life as an option. It’s not fair that the moment Izuku’s dreams are within reach everything around him comes crashing down. He has friends—ones that would actually miss him should he leave—and he already has to start considering saying goodbye. Permanently.
“You can’t.”
Kacchan says it so simply, so firmly, that Izuku wants to believe him. Because Kacchan is smart and amazing and Izuku had once looked at him as though he hung every star in the sky with his own bare hands.
But now they are both older and Kacchan looks at Izuku like an equal and Izuku is able to do the same.
That’s why he knows Kacchan is just as powerless to stop this as he is.
“I am,” Izuku replies.
“Get rid of the damn quirk.”
“No.”
“For fuck’s sake!”
Surprisingly, it’s Uraraka who drops the first expletive. She wrenches herself away from him only to grab him by the front of his shirt.
“You’re still doing it! Acting like you have to do this alone—”
“I’m not acting.” Izuku stands up shakily and swallows hard. “And anyway, getting rid of the quirk won’t help much. If it doesn’t kill me, All for One will.”
“We’ll stop him,” Iida says, coming to stand by his side.
“It’s not that easy.”
“Please,” Todoroki says, grabbing Izuku’s wrist. His fingers are cold against his skin. “We don’t want to lose you. So please just let us help.”
Izuku looks between the three of them, arguably the closest friends he has made since stepping foot through UA’s front gate, and he wonders how he got so lucky to have friends such as them.
“Thank you. I mean it, thank you all so much. But I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”
Izuku thinks it’s the we that causes their faces to fall into despair.
Fighting is a pain, but he thinks he’s getting used to knowing when a fainting spell is coming.
That’s usually the only time he’ll call for backup.
Right now is not one of those times.
The civilians were right about Izuku; since he came back, the number of attacks has risen. What they are wrong about is the idea that they’d be infinitely safer without him.
Several pros, as well as his classmates, work on the ground to secure the civilians and guide them to safety while Izuku holds off the Nomu attempting to breach UA’s defences. It turns out expelling some of the built up energy within One for All is good for him.
He thinks of himself as an elastic band, tense enough to snap only to relax at the last second once the pressure is off.
There is a guttural growl from the beast as Izuku binds it with Black Whip. All Might had admitted that, in his prime, he would have been able to defeat the Nomu from the USJ incident in five mighty blows.
For Izuku, it takes six quirks and four solid hits.
The pros that take care of disposing of the body are from a nearby agency and look at Izuku with unease as they restrain the unresponsive creature. He nods and turns to find his classmates only to hunch in on himself at the fearful looks he receives from nearby spectators. Apologising might make things worse.
Jirou greets him with a trepid smile. “Hey, Midoriya. Nice work out there.”
“Thanks. Is everyone okay?”
She rubs the back of her head, moving to stand beside him but not looking at him. He can’t blame her. Since he told his class the whole truth there have been three separate occasions where a classmate had tried to talk to him only to burst into tears before getting a word out.
“Think so. Everyone is pretty shaken up but no physical injuries so far.”
“That’s good, at least.”
Jirou nods and quickly scurries away once someone calls her over. Izuku stands a little lost to the side before he figures it’s for the best he makes himself scarce. As much as he wants to reassure them, right now his presence only causes unrest.
“Deku!”
Just as Izuku pulls his hood off and his mask down, a voice cuts in, followed by hurried footsteps.
“Wha—Eri!”
He leans down just in time to catch her as she barrels into his arms.
“You’re okay!”
Izuku forces himself to laugh lightly. “I am. Sorry for worrying you.”
Eri shakes her head, smiling so hard Izuku can feel it through the fabric of his shirt.
“I’m happy you’re here. Please don’t leave again, okay?”
A lump lodges in his throat and Izuku takes a second just to breathe.
“I won’t.”
He wonders when lying got so easy.
One night, when Izuku is already in bed and prepared for a night of scrolling on his phone, Kacchan walks into his room unannounced and uninvited.
“Can I help you?” Izuku asks dryly.
But Kacchan frowns instead of his usual scowl and Izuku becomes more and more concerned by the second. He moves to sit on the edge of Izuku’s bed.
“Kacchan? What—”
“How long?”
“Huh?”
“How long,” Kacchan chokes out, his voice sounding painful. “Do you have? Before One for All…”
“Oh.” Izuku fiddles with the port of his prosthetic despite knowing he shouldn’t. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t care if it’s inaccurate, I just want an idea.”
Izuku fills him in about Garaki. He honestly doesn’t mean to, something about Kacchan just makes him talk before he can think it through.
“The predecessors all died when they were middle aged or younger.”
He laughs without any humour, slapping a hand across his closed eyes.
“It’s so stupid. After everything I might not even actually be quirkless, the one time it would’ve helped.”
“God, I hate your stupid fucking quirk.”
“Which one?”
Kacchan reaches behind Izuku to grab a pillow only to hit him with it.
“You’re a pain in the ass, idiot.”
“Sorry.”
Kacchan scoffs. “Don’t be.”
Izuku smiles at nothing in particular. “I’ll tell you if I figure it out, okay?”
“Whatever. Just don’t go dying without any warning, you got that?”
The Paranormal Liberation Frontier’s attacks rise in frequency and severity. It’s all Izuku can do to keep as many people alive as he can manage.
Izuku makes his way towards UA’s front gate when a group of children stop him on his way.
“You’re Deku, right?” one asks.
“That’s right. Is everything okay?”
The children look between themselves before nodding to each other. In sync, they pull paper out from behind their backs; handmade cards with shakily scrawled thank you hero Deku written across them in a variety of fonts and colours.
“We thought you were mean because your mask is scary, but our friend told us you were actually really nice and strong.”
“Yeah!” One little girl pipes up. “We saw you on TV the other day and you were like bam bam, ka-pow! And then all the villains were beaten! It was awesome!”
“Oh, um, thank you?”
Another girl nods and steps forward, pressing her card into his hand. “So we made you these to say thank you for keeping us safe.” She lowers her voice into a whisper, “Sorry if some of our parents are mean to you, though. I think they still think you’re scary.”
Izuku laughs good-naturedly, removing his mask and hood to lean down and speak to them. “Ah, don’t worry, I understand. Thank you very much for all the cards!”
He takes them and reads each one carefully, his chest feeling fuller by the second.
“You mentioned a friend, can I ask who they are?”
“She’s the best!” A boy with sandy blond hair answers, mouth curved into a toothy grin. “Her name’s Eri and she has a horn and she’s super nice and she likes apples!” he lists off in quick succession and Izuku blinks owlishly trying to keep up with his excitement.
“You’re talking too much,” a girl with wild red hair plaited into two pigtails tells him, but then smiles as well. “You’re right, though. Eri’s super cool. She said I could do her hair later.”
And the children seem to take that as their opportunity to fill Izuku in about all the things they had already done and the other things they planned to do with their friend, Eri.
Izuku doesn’t know why that’s the thing that brings him on the verge of tears, but he quickly gives them one last thanks before leaping into the air and folding the cards small enough to put in the pockets of his utility belt. Once out of sight, he scrubs his eyes with his forearm.
Eri hasn’t been alone for months, but the idea of her having friends her own age to keep her company, as well as all the others looking out for her…
Izuku feels a weight he didn’t realise was there lift off of him and he smiles until his cheeks ache and his eyes burn.
Things look up for Izuku, so naturally All for One ruins it.
Or rather, Izuku’s damn vertigo does and gets him caught by the one person he would give anything to never have to see again.
Izuku really shouldn’t be surprised he’s being held hostage.
Honestly, he doesn’t even know why the pros look so scared, they should be getting used to this by now. To be fair though, Izuku doesn’t think he’ll ever stop having nightmares about Kacchan slipping back into black mist, a villain’s hand around his neck. So maybe his delirium is making him too harsh.
Speaking of things being harsh, All for One’s grip on Izuku’s wrists is definitely going to leave bruises. His fingers wide and his knuckles white with the intensity he’s gripping Izuku. He tries his best not to squirm in the villain’s grasp.
Izuku tries to distract himself from the pain by focusing on the villain’s voice.
“Do not worry, pitiful heroes. I’m not going to hurt him, nor am I going to steal his quirk, though it is a magnificent thing, isn’t it? No, this is Forcible Quirk Activation,” he gestures to the tendrils acting as plugs that keep Izuku from completely bleeding out. “So, really, it’s the boy’s own quirk doing all the harm.”
Did Izuku mention he’s been stabbed? Because he’s been stabbed. Blood loss is a bitch.
“I’m going to be playing the hero, this time. My little civilian, here, is going to break himself over and over, and I will heal him at the same time. You’ll get to see my newest quirk in action! Ready?”
Izuku clamps his eyes shut and braces himself.
It’s pointless.
White hot pain overloads Izuku’s senses but everytime he thinks he’s about to pass out, the pain intensifies waking him back up and the process just repeats. He hears familiar voices calling out, he listens to their cries and wails over his own screams and thinks he must be hallucinating because he suspects some might be from his classmates but he can’t see any of them to confirm their presence, not with the tears blurring his vision to the point where the world looks like it’s moving at a pace Izuku can’t hope to keep up with.
He wonders whether there was something he’d done to deserve this. If this was somehow his fault for having the audacity to be born and the universe’s way of righting his mistake.
Izuku opens his mouth and cries out against his will.
All for One relishes in the sound.
Izuku isn’t sure for how long he stays there, the feeling of bones shifting into their rightful place, the pull of skin stretching and burn of incisions knitting themselves together, all accumulating in an experience he could only describe as tortuous.
He sits on his knees, the black tendrils piercing his body keeping him upright as he screams and thrashes until the lining of his throat tears itself to shreds and then burns as it is forced back together. His limbs shatter and blood vessels burst only to be healed so the process could begin anew.
He wonders how long he’s going to have to endure before he loses himself to the pain. Whether someone is going to save him or his only hope is that All for One will take pity. Izuku wants to fight back, wants to grab onto the bastard’s stupid metal head and ram it straight through the concrete they’re standing on.
He wants to get away, he’s not ready to die but it doesn’t matter because Izuku should know by now that life is not merciful enough to give him something simply because he wants.
Instead he finds another way to escape this personal hell. He’s grown accustomed to seeing strange figures but this is the first time he’s truly welcomed it. Izuku squeezes his eyes shut as another wave of agony washes over him and the figure is much clearer now, a hand outstretched towards Izuku.
Izuku can’t bring himself to take it, but it seems he doesn’t have to as the hand reaches him anyway and settles against his cheek.
“You did well, Ninth, but you can rest for a while. We’ll take this one.”
For once, Izuku does not need to be told twice.
Izuku isn’t sure what exactly happens, but he wakes up in the infirmary.
All Might is seated by him, a harrowing look on the man’s face.
“A’ Migh…”
He is up in an instant, taking Izuku’s hand into his own. His flesh one, because his metal one seems to have been detached. Rather violently, if the state of his shoulder is any indication.
“Young Midoriya, how are you feeling?”
He tilts his head downwards, staring at his right side and the burns across his skin.
“…Did I blow up my arm?”
He pats Izuku on the head. “Yes, yes you did.”
“Sorry. I’ll pay you back…”
All Might snorts. “Don’t mention it, my boy. Just focus on resting, I’ll deal with everything else for now.”
“Okay…“
“Just wait, Nine. I’m not finished with you yet.”
Izuku wakes up non-deliriously a day or so later. The room is empty and Izuku figures that’s his cue to escape.
Within roughly thirty seconds of shutting the infirmary door behind him, Izuku blows his cover by rounding a corner and bumping into someone, sending both of them flying to the ground.
“Ow…oh! I’m so sorr—Shinsou?”
“Don’t worry about it,” the other boy retorts in his typical deadpan. Shinsou drops the condescending part of his tone, however, once he gets a decent look at Izuku. “Actually, are you alright? You look like you need to lay down. In a hospital bed.”
“Haha,” Izuku drawls.
He stands and offers Shinsou a hand to pull him up. Shinsou accepts it apprehensively and Izuku has to force himself not to roll his eyes. He knows he looks weaker than he is—a result of not being able to keep his food down and lack of sleep taking its toll on his physique—but Shinsou doesn’t have to be so obvious about it.
In the end Izuku brings him along on his escape journey.
“You know too much,” is the only explanation he offers Shinsou. When Recovery Girl inevitably finds him, it’ll be best if he has a scapegoat nearby.
“Thanks, Midoriya. I feel really comforted.”
Izuku grabs his sleeve and pulls him along until they reach a couple vending machines. He searches his pockets for a moment before hearing Shinsou sigh and pull out his own wallet.
“What do you want?”
Izuku beams.
“And that’s why,” Izuku says, finishing off his sandwich. “I want you to be the one who takes my place in the hero course.” He’s starting to get good at summarising his impending mortality to just the important points.
Shinsou drops his drink.
“…I just asked if you liked cats.”
Shinsou refuses his seat. Both because he doesn’t want Izuku to die, and because Kacchan is loud and Shinsou can’t imagine sitting behind him for an entire year.
“You’re…oddly happy considering everything that just happened to you.”
“Am I?” Izuku is glad, if Shinsou thinks he’s happy then maybe everyone else will buy it, too—
“It’s really really fake. I’m gonna tell Aizawa.”
“Wait, don’t—”
When Izuku next gains consciousness, Shinsou is no where to be seen and he is back in a hospital bed. Oh, and there are furious sets of eyes glaring at him.
That includes Aizawa’s singular eye. He stands near the door with Recovery Girl while Izuku’s mother chews him out.
“You had us all so worried! Please, Izuku, you can’t just run off like that! It’s terrifying and I don’t think my heart can handle another scare—”
“Sorry, mom.”
She sighs and slumps in defeat, cupping the back of his head.
“No, no. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so worked up I just—I find out that you’ve got a century old murderer after you and quirk that killed all the people who had it and—” She gulps. “I’m so scared of losing you. All the time, Izuku.”
“I’m sorry for worrying you.”
It is honestly the last thing he wants.
“Don’t be. I’m your mother, it's my job to worry but, god, Izuku, please. Do me one thing and promise you’ll leave a message before you disappear.”
“I will. I promise. Sorry.”
She presses a kiss to his temple and holds him close. Izuku sighs and leans into the hold.
“…Hey, mom?”
“What is it, honey?”
“Do you think I’m doing everything wrong?” Izuku blinks back tears as he feels the words fall out of his mouth against his will. He forgets where he is and focuses on nothing but his mother’s concerned face. “I just want everyone to be safe. I want to be a hero who saves everyone, but if people aren’t getting hurt for me then I’m the one hurting them. Do you think I’m hurting my friends more if I stay? I’ve tried being distant too, because I thought it’d be easier for them if they had time to get used to being without me but I—I don’t know. I just—everything I do seems to be the wrong answer so I don’t know what to do. Everyone is so kind but it feels like I’m wasting everyone’s time because I’m just going to die anyway and sometimes I really think everyone would just be better off if I never spoke to them again but if I say that out loud I think I’ll just upset everyone so I really really don’t know what I’m doing. Please help. I just want to stop hurting—”
Inko rubs circles against his back as he stops being able to speak coherently.
“I think you’re doing your best.”
“I am,” Izuku admits in defeat. “And it’s still not enough.”
Inko squeezes him gently. “My baby. My little hero. Something tells me you could save the planet and still feel like you haven’t done enough.”
She sighs. “I remember when you were still a toddler—you couldn’t have been older than two at the time—and I was upset and crying in the living room because your father had just left for work overseas. And I’ll never forget you waddling over and giving me a pep-talk. Mom, I’m still here for you, so don’t cry! I’ll always be here for you no matter what because you’re the greatest mother I could ask fo—”
“There’s no way I said all of that. Or any of that.”
She laughs. “Nope. Honestly I didn’t really understand what you were saying, I think you were just hungry.” Izuku huffs into her shoulder. “But you really did make me feel better, you know? From the moment you were born you’ve been helping me get through every single day. Raising you is the best thing I’ve ever done, Izuku. You’re my everything so don’t you ever call yourself a waste again, you hear me?”
Izuku nods, hand fisting in the back of her cardigan.
“But then, what are you going to do when I’m not here?”
She cards her fingers through his hair, the same way she used to do when he was just a little kid.
“I’m going to look after myself so you won’t have to worry.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Izuku doesn’t think he’ll ever get to feel the same way he did when he was young and could believe in his mother and her ability to make everything okay.
This is a close second.
Aizawa comes back with a jelly packet for Izuku. He puts a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I knew this must be hard on you, and that you’re struggling, but I was afraid if I said anything you’d run away again. So, for letting it get this bad, I’m sorry, Midoriya.”
“You don’t have to apologise.”
“I do, because you’re my student and you’re my responsibility. You don’t have to talk to me, it could be any teacher or adult you feel comfortable with, but I just want you to know my door will always be open for you Midoriya. Now and whenever you feel like you need it.”
”Okay. Thank you.”
Izuku wishes he had the courage to tell him he has no intention of going.
Kota and Eri spend their days keeping him company while David Shield has to rebuild him an arm from scratch.
“I’m glad you guys are friends.”
Eri nods and Kota blushes but looks happy all the same.
”Me too!” she says, “I like talking about you and so does Kota so we have lots in common!”
Izuku gapes for a second as Kota stammers and yells and tries to change the topic of conversation but Eri only continues to smile, undeterred.
”I like your shoes. The sneakers, not the slippers you have now. And your hat.”
Kota huffs. “Why? Do you like red or something?”
Eri hums and tilts her head.
”I like apples. They’re red sometimes so I think so.”
Izuku glances at his own shoes tucked beside his bed. “Red’s my favourite colour too,” he tells them.
”Because it’s cool?”
”I don’t know. I guess it just makes me feel brave?”
Eri furrows her brow. “How does a colour make you feel brave?”
He chuckles sheepishly before answering, “Ah, I guess it’s kind of hard to explain? It’s…kind of comforting, I guess. It’s bright and loud—“
“Does it scare the villains away?” Kota asks, genuinely intrigued.
”Hm, I guess it might scare them away. They’d be able to spot me from pretty far so I guess they’d run if they saw a hero coming to stop them. But it’s more than that. I just feel readier for anything when I’m wearing red, if that makes sense.”
”Yeah!” Eri chimes in. “Like how I always feel safe when you and Lemillion are nearby!”
“Who’s Lemillion?”
Izuku feels himself zone in and out of focus as Eri goes on a tangent about Mirio, his costume, his catchphrases and anything else she can think of.
And Izuku wonders just when he became such a big part of their lives. He laughs, just a little bitterly.
”Both of you…” they turn to him immediately, earnest gazes settling on him. “I think you’re really cool, you know that?” He doesn’t give them a chance to respond, though Kota looks like he might combust at any given moment. “That’s why I know you’ll be okay without me.”
Dread settles over the three of them and Izuku tries not to break under the heavy force of guilt.
”…Why would we do that?”
“Because I think I’ll have to go soon.”
”No you don’t!”
Izuku starts, not expecting Kota’s outburst. He looks beyond furious, eyes glowing in anger. “If those nasty civilians are bothering you again I’ll stand up for you so you don’t need to worry about going anywhere!”
“Kota…it’s not that.”
”Then why do you need to go anywhere?”
Eri sets takes his hand into her own, squeezing gently.
”You’re hurt, so you need to rest. That’s why it’s okay if you stay here for a while, right?”
”For a while,” Izuku croaks out. “Not forever.”
“Why not?!” Kota cries in frustration, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t speak up sooner, okay? I’m really really sorry, so—“
Izuku doesn’t want to hear anymore.
”Kota it’s not your fault. It’s neither of your faults, I swear.”
Izuku really wishes he had an extra hand right now. As it stands, he guesses he’ll have to make due with his words.
”Can I help?” Eri asks quietly, letting go of his hand so she can tap the base of her horn.
Izuku gulps at the implication.
He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it.
”It hasn’t been that long since you rewound Mirio, Eri. It isn’t safe to—“
”But if I could, would it help?”
A month later, Recovery Girl and Aizawa standby as Eri sets her hands on his, her horn sparking with power as she attempts to rewind him.
She aims to undo a week and Izuku soon learns her quirk can rewinds living things; living quirks not so much.
Izuku wakes up, his head hot and feverish and Eri sobbing into Aizawa’s chest just a few feet away.
One for All changes and grows throughout its lifetime. It stockpiles and exerts itself every waking moment, constantly increasing in power and it turns out rewinding Izuku only means his body is behind where his quirk needs him to be.
In short, Izuku can go back to how he was before, but the strain of One for All will hit him like a semi-truck rather than a steep uphill climb.
Izuku tries to tell Eri it isn’t her fault. None of this was.
She clings onto him, apologies muffled into his shirt and Izuku wishes he knew how to make everything better.
Instead, he cards his fingers through her hair, and tells her things will be alright.
She sobs harder, and Izuku thinks she knows what his version of alright means.
The moment Izuku is fitted with his new arm and cleared to leave the infirmary, he resumes periodic patrols outside of UA’s walls. It’s the deal he made with Nedzu and Aizawa when they sat him down to discuss his re-enrollment so despite his teachers’ apprehension, they don’t stop him.
He returns a few hours early one day, a cryptic text from Aoyama telling him he’s needed in the common room.
“I thought you guys said you needed help.”
“We do! These paper chains won’t put themselves up!”
Izuku sighs, climbing down from the window ledge and circling around to the front door of their dorms. He pulls his hood off his head but keeps his shoes on; he figures it’s fine considering everyone is currently dressed in their hero costumes, from their capes down to their boots.
“What’s going on?”
Uraraka appears from seemingly nowhere, tilting her head as she presses in close.
“A party!”
Izuku smiles half-heartedly. “I can see that. I meant what for.”
She sobers up quickly, her smile less bright but no less genuine. A hand covers Izuku’s own—his flesh one—the pinkie raised so he doesn’t float into the ceiling and potentially wreck the decorations already set up.
“We were all thinking about what you told us, about…Quirk Singularity.”
Izuku blinks a few times, not surprised but unsettled by the mention of its looming threat. He turns away, only to see his classmates all slowing their movements, some approaching the two of them.
Yaoyorozu speaks up next. “You mentioned how you might not live to graduation.”
“Yeah,” Izuku forces out, his throat turning painfully dry. “I remember.”
“Well, bro, we all talked and decided we didn’t want to graduate without ya’!”
Izuku’s mind goes blank.
“Uh. What?”
“You heard him, idiot.”
Kacchan bumps his shoulder as he walks by, huffing when Izuku glowers at him. “We’re not graduating without your dumbass.” He mutters something under his breath, something too low for Izuku to be sure he heard correctly but it sounds awfully like, “It wouldn’t be right without you.”
Izuku’s eyes sting and he has to blink hard to make sure it doesn’t show.
“You—you guys—”
A phantasmal hand reaches out, offering a tissue and Darkshadow’s earnestness makes Izuku let out a breath of laughter, cracked and painful in a not entirely unwelcome way.
He takes the tissue from his hand and grips it tightly between his metal fingers.
“You didn’t have to—to—”
“No,” Iida interrupts, setting a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder. “We didn’t. But we still wanted to.”
Izuku gulps, looking between all his friends and feels his resolve crumbling under their sincere smiles.
“I don’t…the villains are still out there. I’m so sorry but I don’t have time…“
“We already spoke to your secretary! Your schedule’s clear for the day!”
“My what? I don’t have a—”
“Young Midoriya.”
The boy in question spins on his heel, Uraraka and Iida’s hands being thrown off him in his haste, but he is far too frantic to apologise because—
“All Might?! You knew—”
“Don’t underestimate the powers of an old man, my boy. I know how to keep secrets.” Izuku ducks his head, an apology on the tip of his tongue but All Might simply chuckles, moving forward from the side of the room to stand in front of Izuku. He sets two large hands on Izuku’s shoulders and smiles down at his successor, warm and bright and powerful even without a quirk to enhance it.
“I called in a few favours. Tsukauchi and his team are working hard, as well as a few old friends.”
“But still, All for One is—”
“Isn’t going anywhere.”
Izuku isn’t convinced and he isn’t quick enough to hide his trepidation. All Might sighs, sinking to the ground so that he and Izuku are eye-to-eye. Izuku starts, holding his hands out to steady All Might as he groans in discomfort but the man simply waves him off with a tired smile.
“My boy, do you remember what I told you about working too hard? Burnout is, for lack of a better term, a bitch.” Izuku chokes. “I can guarantee an afternoon off will do you good.”
His defences are falling. They are falling far too quickly than he thought they could so he puts up his final wall.
“It’s not real. This—this graduation, it’s not—”
Todoroki cuts in, quiet but unwavering. “Not real,” he concedes. “But it’s the one that matters.”
And Izuku doesn’t know how else to explain it, but if giving in is synonymous with losing, then this defeat doesn’t feel like much of a loss.
They use their provisional licenses instead of actual ones, and the decorations are handmade instead of the ones they usually use. The podium is set up in the common room, and Ashido looks up studio audience sound effects on her phone to play during the ceremony. The diplomas are written in crayon and have glitter stuck in odd places.
Izuku recognises both Kota and Eri’s handwriting, and the fact that she’s improved her spelling so much in such little time makes pride swell in his chest and tears well in his eyes because he wasn’t there to see it.
Aizawa looks like he would rather be asleep but he smiles lazily when he catches Izuku looking.
Several of their teachers are here, including the principal, as well as some of Shinsou’s old classmates from the General Education department. Hatsume is put in charge of lights and Izuku has to stop and tilt his head back to bore holes into the ceiling several times in between helping put a few more streamers up so that his vision doesn’t blur.
Everyone takes their seats, including their parents, the chairs set out in rows in front of a makeshift podium at the centre of the common room.
Nedzu opens his mouth and drawls out what Izuku knows are customary to UA’s graduation, the event another one that UA tends to televise towards the end of the year; a showcase of the next generation of heroes.
Of course there are no cameras or reporters today, not unless Hagakure’s phone counts.
Izuku’s heart still hammers in his chest.
Nedzu calls them up one at a time to collect their diplomas and he hands them a hero license. It’s just their provisional licenses, but the sentiment is the same.
Eventually it is Izuku’s turn, and he can’t help but gulp.
He turns to his peers as he walks up, glancing around the room at shiny eyes and wobbly grins. His mother grins impossibly wide, tears rolling down her cheeks as she presses a tissue to the lower half of her face to catch them. Izuku tries to smile back, ignoring the rolling in his stomach.
Izuku keeps moving forward. Just like he always does. Like he always has to.
He steps up and accepts his diploma, shaking Nedzu’s paw.
It is written in green, and in the corner is a small drawing of three stick figures, and even without the freckles, the tiny horn and bright red cap, Izuku would recognise himself with Eri and Kota on either side anywhere.
He turns to return to his seat but keeps walking past when he actually reaches it, two rows back until he is able to crouch in front of Eri’s seat, Kota right by her side.
Eri bites her lip and clutches the sides of her seat until her knuckles turn a ghostly shade of white. In all honesty, Izuku isn’t sure what kind of face he makes, but whatever Eri sees in his smile must be what she is looking for, because Izuku barely has time to blink before her arms are being thrown around her neck.
Kota manages to hold out for a few seconds longer before he dashed forward as well, huddling into Izuku’s chest.
He doesn’t return to his seat alone, instead Izuku ends up sitting half-hanging off the edge alongside Eri who insists they can both fit while Kota sits by his legs, despite no longer being unable to see the stage. He stifles his laughter at their antics, and grins sheepishly at the way Kacchan rolls his eyes.
Each of the ’graduates’ are allowed to make a short speech, as per UA’s customs for Hero graduates: the promises to the public. Izuku holds his breath for most of it, afraid of what might happen if he doesn’t. Some of his classmates are already goners, tears dripping down their cheeks, as well as a few of their teachers, particularly Hound Dog who howls every so often into a handkerchief.
Izuku’s turn comes far too fast for his liking, but he makes it up to the podium with only a minor tremble in his voice.
“There is so much I have to say, but this isn’t a regular graduation, so I’ll leave out any huge promises to the public. But for the record, we’ll do our best to protect you.” A few of the parents laugh around their tears. “Instead, I’d like to use this opportunity to say a few thank yous. I know heroes are often the ones on the receiving end of gratitude, and I think today should be no exception.”
“As a class, I’d say we’ve gone through more than a lot of heroes have in their careers, let alone during high school. But we’ve always fought hard and fought together, and I like to think it’s because of that that we’re able to be here today.”
“I myself can attest to the fact that whenever I’ve been close to giving up, thinking of my teachers, friends and loved ones inspires me to fight on. Because you’re all incredible heroes and I couldn’t imagine being able to stand beside you if I myself can’t embody the things you teach me everyday.”
“I’d thank each of you individually but that would take far too long so please just know; getting to meet you, getting to fight alongside you all will always be my greatest honour.”
“So from the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
They party afterwards. Like, actually party.
Jirou and Present Mic blast music out of a few speakers while Kacchan, Sato and Lunch Rush form a team to serve more food than Izuku has ever seen in his life.
His mother wails and hugs him close and Izuku returns it, unsure of anything he can tell her to make her feel better.
He catches sight of All Might looking at him from a few paces away, his eyes sad and understanding in a way Izuku wishes he wasn’t. Because Izuku can hurt—he’s been hurting for longer than he can remember—but someone else knowing is dangerous because it isn’t like before, when his teachers didn’t care and would brush it off.
Now they could do something truly horrific, like making him confront those feelings.
And Izuku just can’t let that happen. Not now, when there are so many other things that are more important than himself. He can’t be selfish.
So Izuku smiles back, and he genuinely tries to enjoy himself, for everyone else’s sake if not for his own. Because not doing so would waste his friends’ efforts and he won’t let that happen.
He grins and smiles and laughs until his cheeks hurt.
All Might pulls him to the side during the evening.
“My boy—”
“I’m okay. I promise, All Might. I’m okay.”
All Might doesn’t believe him. It’s obvious and unease settles in his gut at the fact he isn’t quite as good at hiding his feelings as he thought but he steamrolls over it as best he can, trying to reassure his teacher.
But then All Might simply shakes his head and smiles back. It falls just short of his eyes but Izuku would be lying if breathing didn’t just become a little bit easier.
His mentor pulls him into his side, and Izuku turns in time to see a camera flash. He blinks several times to get the dark spots out of his eyes, only to see Uraraka smiling fiendishly.
“Smile, Deku!”
Izuku has no idea when the next time he will have a reason to do so will be, so he lets himself relax, All Might’s on his knees beside him so they can both fit in the frame and throwing up a peace sign. Izuku digs into his pocket and holds his hero license in front of him, before smiling as hard and as brightly as he is physically capable.
They take a lot of photos that night, Izuku being pulled in all different directions by his classmates as they fight for his attention.
It’s nice. And just for a moment, he lets the world he so desperately wants to protect shrink to the contents of this room.
Only for a moment.
It’s enough.
Aizawa finds him on the roof that night.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks tiredly, coming to sit beside him near the railings.
“I just didn’t want today to end yet.”
“I see.”
“I’m guessing you already know about my quirk.”
“Obviously. I wouldn’t be much of a stealth hero if I didn’t.”
Izuku huffs out a laugh.
“Thank you, Mr Aizawa.”
“For what? Your classmates are the one who organised everything.”
“I know, but for everything else you’ve done. Thank you.”
He looks at Izuku for a moment, considering him, before he sighs and puts a hand on Izuku’s head.
“Damn Problem Child…that should be my line.”
Izuku tilts his head in confusion. “What? For Jaku? Because you don’t need to thank me for—”
“Just like you don’t need to thank me for being a decent teacher,” he admonishes heatlessly. “Honestly though, you saved me back then, kid. Thanks.”
“Um. Of course,” he says a little awkwardly.
“Losing me is the worst case scenario, huh.”
Izuku thinks Aizawa is trying to make a joke.
“Obviously.”
But Izuku isn’t.
“You’re the first teacher I’ve had that didn’t treat me like some burden. Or like I was just there to make the other students look better. Or like I didn’t really matter. I know Torino is the one who lent me his cape, but honestly it always made me think of both of you.” Izuku turns to him with a soft smile. “On top of looking like a scarf, it’s the same yellow as your sleeping bag, so sometimes I’d think to myself hey, we match now! If that makes sense. Uh, Mr Aizawa?”
But his teacher is looking at him with one wide, bloodshot eye.
“Sorry,” he forces out, after a moment. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “For a moment you just reminded me of someone. An old friend.”
He says old friend the same way All Might sometimes says Nana.
Izuku wonders if people will say his name like that, too.
Everything begins coming to head near the beginning of the second semester.
Izuku is seventeen now and waiting on death’s doorstep.
He has to take less frequent patrols. He can’t fight for as long as he used to without adverse effects and Izuku is running himself ragged trying to beat All for One at their constantly switching game of cat and mouse.
Dreams start becoming visions of the vestige world. He sees Shigaraki there sometimes.
“I’ll kill you,” he tells Izuku.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t fucking patronise me!”
“Okay.”
Lady Nagant wakes up.
She tells Hawks everything she knows and both of them video call Izuku soon after.
“Hey kid.”
It takes Izuku a second to recognise her, most of her hair gone and burns covering most of her skin.
“Are you…okay?”
“No offence, but I could ask you the same thing.”
Hawks rolls his eyes and takes the phone back, his face filling the screen as he gets way too close to the camera.
“Uh, Hawks?”
“Listen, Deku. We need to work fast. According to Nagant, the PLF are planning something big and All for One’s planning something even bigger.”
“Details?”
Hawks tells him of several planned attacks all across Japan.
They’re running out of time.
Izuku is getting used to the feeling.
His friends follow him into battle. Metaphorically.
In reality Izuku is tasked with going after Shigaraki, the rest of his friends split up into groups to target different locations.
He bids them good luck with a combination of nods, hugs, handshakes and fist bumps. Enough to last him a lifetime.
Izuku doesn’t tell them goodbye. He doesn’t think he needs to.
And honestly, he doesn’t think he can.
Because Izuku doesn’t want to die. And somehow saying it out loud will make it true, but Izuku wakes up the morning of their assigned missions and simply knows he won’t wake up tomorrow.
It’s less painful than he thought it’d be.
All for One corners both Izuku and Shigaraki. It is at the USJ, no less.
Both sides are locked in battle, Izuku’s friends spread across the city trying to subdue the villains and their forces.
Both of them are bleeding and panting, Izuku’s prosthetic missing several pieces of metal plating and leaving the wires exposed. All for One watches with a smile, standing several paces in front of them.
He is tall and wears an aura of death the same most people wear cologne. He has hundreds of quirks in his arsenal, and months underground have given him the time he needs to ready his body and turn it into an unstoppable force.
Theres only one way Izuku can think to beat him.
Izuku whips his head to Shigaraki, his lips cracking as he tries to speak around the dryness in his throat.
“Look, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it was our only option!”
“I’m not like you,” Shigaraki spits, addressing Izuku like it disgusts Shigaraki to do so. “I’m not a hero and I never will—“
“I know!”
Shigaraki stops, his shoulders dropping and a single eye widening at Izuku’s outburst, the other closed with crusted blood.
“You think I don’t know you’re awful? That you’re a terrible person who’s done terrible things? Because I do! You’ve tried to kill my friends, my teachers. You have killed so many people. There’s no way you can come back from that,” He spits out, his flesh fist clenching in the tatters of his jumpsuit. “That’s why I’m not asking you to be a hero, or to help me.”
Izuku looks up, his gaze piercing enough to freeze Shigaraki in place.
“There’s still people you care about, right? I’m asking you to save them.”
He holds out a hand, reaching out to Shigaraki—
“How pitiful.”
Izuku balks and jumps back just in time for glowing black tendrils to stab the ground he was just resting on, Shigaraki flying in the opposite direction.
“The fuck—“
“What—“
More tendrils fire at the both of them, All for One hovering high above them.
“It’s disgusting to think I made the both of you. You especially, Tomura. I put so much effort into creating the perfect host body. The perfect vessel. But now look at you, on your knees in front of a hero. Did you forget how they left you to wander the streets alone? To fend for yourself? How no one but me considered you worthy of nurture?”
“Don’t listen to him!”
Izuku yelps as All for One fires another tendril in his direction.
“You’d trust the words of a hero?”
“Enough!” Shigaraki shrieks, taking hold of a tendril that shoots towards him and turning the appendage to dust. All for One turns one of his hands into a metal blade and slices the tendril off from the root before the decay reaches him.
Breathing heavily, Izuku squeezes his eyes shut, considering how to get through to Shigaraki when—
“Wait, what do you mean you made me?”
Sometimes Izuku thinks he’s living in a nightmare.
He asked expecting All for One to tell him about a stolen quirk.
Hearing about Hisashi and Inko Midoriya’s wedding day was never part of the plan.
“Where do you think I got the copy of All for One to pass to Tomura?” he laughs. “What a pathetic excuse for a son I got. Still, I suppose All Might’s reaction might make this worth it. Try not to bleed out until he gets here, my boy.”
Izuku really hates All for One.
He gargles blood as Shigaraki approaches him against his own free will. Even with the power of One for All, Izuku just isn’t enough to be of any use.
I’m sorry.
Izuku doesn’t think of any one name in particular. He is just sorry. So so sorry.
There is a crunch behind him, and the crash of debris being displaced. For a morbid moment, Izuku thinks that at least he won’t be around to deal with the paperwork for all the damage they’d caused.
But then Izuku feel wind fly past him, and suddenly Shigaraki isn’t coming for him anymore.
“I told you, Sensei…this body is mine. You don’t own shit.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Tomura. And I can’t wait to prove it to you.”
While Shigaraki battles All for One in the vestige world, Izuku spits out the blood in his mouth, pressing a hand against his bleeding temple and wiping it away from his eyes.
It’s time to end this.
He thrusts his arm out, launching himself up and off the ground as Black Whip wraps itself around All for One, Shigaraki holding him in place.
Float carries him higher and higher until he is able to use Fa Jin to burst through the ceiling, glass shattering in his wake as he soars up and up.
Izuku holds his breath.
And then with the force of nine generations of bloodshed behind him, Izuku comes crashing to the ground.
In the end, it is Shigaraki who wins them the battle.
Izuku lands a blow to the back of All for One’s—All for One, because helping to conceive Izuku doesn’t give him the right to be known as Izuku’s father—neck, knocking his ventilator loose and leaving him stumbling.
Shigaraki wastes no time, surging forward and closing his palm around All for One’ wrist, his index finger raised. While his body isn’t fit to hold the sheer number of quirks All for One held, he is still able to steal them.
The villain cries out, wailing. Shigaraki calls him pitiful. Izuku thinks he looks sad.
It it almost anticlimactic in a way; within moments, centuries of war reaches its finale. All for One turns to dust, the absence of his eternal youth quirk causing his body to decay even without Shigaraki’s influence.
“I’ll see you soon, little brother,” he whispers. Izuku feels hairs prickle along the back of his neck.
Both of them collapse, side by side.
Shigaraki curses through coughs. Izuku can’t stop panting.
“Guess you won, brat. I always knew a hero would get me killed…”
“I’m—I’m so—rry…”
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
“Th…thank you.”
“Whatever.”
Shigaraki splutters blood and turns on his side, facing away from Izuku.
“Your…your friends. All Might. They’ll be here soon, won’t they.”
He isn’t asking.
“Your kind…you always get…your…happy ending…“
Shigaraki coughs once more, hacking and harsh and Izuku thinks he might be laughing.
“Good for you, brat. Good for fucking you…”
“I’m…dying too…you know.”
Shigaraki laughs again and Izuku hears more blood splatter onto the ground.
“Good. Then…this wasn’t worthless.”
“Was it worthless in the first place?”
He pauses, silent. Questioning.
And then he rolls his head back to face Izuku, a bloody smile stretched across his face.
“Guess not. Those assholes…making me care. What the fuck.”
“I know what you mean,” Izuku replies with his own smile.
“You’re an asshole, too.”
“Sorry, Shigaraki.”
An exhale—
“…Shigaraki?”
And then rest.
All Might shows up a few minutes later.
He stops for a second, the shock of seeing Shigaraki’s body stopping him until he catches sight of Izuku’s blearily blinking eyes.
“Young Midoriya!” He cries, clambering over the rubble to get to his side. “My boy, can you hear me? There’s paramedics on the way—“
“Thank—thank you for—believing in me.”
All Might’s mouth falls open, tears pooling in his eyes.
“You—were the first—-“ Izuku has to stop to cough, his throat clogging up. “The first one who believed in me. That—I could be—a—a hero—“
“Don’t. Don’t do this, please. I’m sure the ambulance will be here any moment, you just have to hold on for—“
“It’s okay, All Might. It is.”
“It’s not. You’re a child, Midoriya. And I never should’ve put such a burden on you.” He grips Izuku tighter, pulling him close as tears drip onto the remnants of Izuku’s costume. “I’m still looking, you know. For a way to fix this.”
“I know,” All Might sags in defeat at Izuku’s admission, defeat in his shoulders and his hands shaking as they hold him.
“And—“ Izuku chokes. “For what it’s worth, I know you tried. To save me, I mean. I know you tried. I’m so grateful but—“
“I won’t stop looking. Not for as long as I live.”
Izuku smiles. “G-ood. I’m sure…that there—there’s someone else that will…need your help.” He coughs, dislodging the blood in his throat. “I’m sorry…I didn’t take the bento box you made me.”
All Might laughs around tears and Izuku can’t help but smile himself, his mouth tasting of metal.
”Young Midoriya, you truly are something else,” he says with a shake of his head. “Don’t mention it. I’ll make you another, if you like.”
Izuku lets the offer hang in the air. He wants to pretend.
“…Hey, All Might?”
“Yes, my boy?” His voice cracks mid-sentence. Izuku would’ve laughed in any other scenario.
“Did I…was I…“
“Izuku, I swear on my life, you were the greatest successor I could have asked for. You make me so proud, my boy, every single time I look at you.”
Izuku scrunches his face, tears blurring All Might’s face. “I don’t want to say goodbye…”
“Then don’t. Just rest, my boy. I’m not going anywhere.”
Izuku dies in his hero’s arms.
All Might knows when it happens, because Izuku finally looks like he isn’t suffering anymore.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”
They hold the funeral the following week.
Toshinori stands by Inko and several Pro Heroes as Izuku is lowered into the ground. The boy’s friends all stand by and watch, shoulders straight and heads held tall as they bid him one final farewell.
Young Bakugou is the first to cry.
The rest follow soon after.
Shouta has to look away, Eri crying into the material of his trousers, his hand running through her messily chopped hair.
Inko sobs silently into a handkerchief, Bakugou Mitsuki’s arm around her as Maseru holds an umbrella over their heads.
And as for Toshinori himself, well, he does not try to kid himself that it is rain dripping down his cheeks.
UA’s class 3-A graduates the following spring.
They refuse to take their graduation picture anywhere but the graveyard, the name Midoriya Izuku carved into a headstone in the centre as they all huddle around.
Young Uraraka crouches down and wraps her arms around the stone at one point.
Toshinori thinks he is a hypocrite for ever making fun of Izuku's crybaby tendencies.
Sometimes Toshinori thinks he can still feel Izuku’s presence.
Tsukauchi snorts when he tells him as much.
“I’m not surprised. He always had that larger than life vibe, you know?”
It happens most at night, when Toshinori is asleep and dreaming. He sees a world shrouded in endless darkness, smoke and fog surrounding the right glowing figures around him.
The smallest figure glows a bright green.
It is tiny—even smaller than Izuku was.
It takes months, but eventually the fog seems to spread and unmistakable freckles become clear, his hair the colour of a field in spring and both arms completely made of flesh and bone.
Toshinori watches as the boy extends a hand out to an equally small body with shaggy black hair, bright red eyes and pale, flaking skin.
He always wakes up just as the boy is about to take Izuku’s hand.
Come morning, Toshinori pretends like it doesn’t shake him. Like his chest doesn’t ache and his throat is not clogged with feelings he can’t outright say without sounding like a crazy old fool.
He straightens the photo frame on his desk in UA’s faculty room, a pile of ungraded assignments beside it.
Bright green eyes slightly obstructed by horrendously messy hair stares back, bright and warm and real.
Whether or not his dreams are really visions into the vestige world, or simply a side effect of heartbreak, Toshinori does not know. He doesn’t particularly care to find out. Izuku is and always will be real in every way that matters, and that’s enough.
He keeps staring at the photo, a calmness washing over him as he stares at the boy who is in every sense Toshinori’s pride and joy. If there is one regret Toshinori has, it is that he didn’t say it as often as he should have. He hopes Izuku somehow knew, regardless.
Toshinori gets a text from David, something regarding Doctor Garaki’s research. With a heavy sigh, he tears himself away and opens his emails. There’s still people he needs to be helping after all.
He won’t let Izuku down.
Toshinori takes a breath, and hopes he can be the All Might Izuku looked up to.
