Manifold

by cranberrybat

Summary:

“In light of your performance, I have something in mind to give you. A reward to help with your upcoming task.”

Oh, no.

“T-that's really not… I don’t think another one is a good idea right now-”

“Silence.”

Deku’s mouth slammed shut. He wanted to cry. He wanted to beg and grovel like a cowering dog. He knew it was futile. Sensei had too much ambition. He often got carried away by his discoveries and cared little for the consequences. There was another mutant-type quirk he wanted Deku to possess, no matter how much it might cost his body and soul to do so.

What was left inside him to sever away?

He would soon find out.

Notes:

• Inspired by the lies you tell yourself by TheHangedMan317

Chapter 1: Deku receives five gifts

Notes:

Got the covid and started writing. Can't stop now. Please send help with face masks.

This has a lot of inspirations, but the biggest one is the lies you tell yourself by TheHangedMan317. Good fic.

Disclaimer: This has elements that are not suitable for some audiences. Some non-con references are present in this fic. Also! DID is a real disorder and I am not an expert. I am just making stuff up as I go along. Don't trust this work for real medical advice of any kind. Stay safe!

“You’ve grown from the last we saw each other.”

That was a lie. Deku was just as pathetic a creature as when they first caged him. He nodded regardless. Rat could play along with Sensei’s games better than the others.

“I trust your education is almost complete?”

Why would Sensei summon him if not?

“Speak, boy.”

A shiver crawled up Deku’s arms and legs, making his skin tremble. The Hound wanted out. Deku couldn’t let the Hound out now. That beast would be worse than useless in this situation.

“Y-yes, sir,” he squeaked. “Toga was especially helpful with my social reeducation, a-a-and Dabi and I have been training more with my quirk, getting the duration of each change to increase. Shigaraki…” Deku trailed off. He swallowed. “Well, w-we’ve gone over tactics, mostly, and subterfuge. And…yeah. M-m-mostly that.”

Sensei hummed. Deku got the feeling his master hadn’t listened at all. The tall, shadowy bulk of him slunk closer, making Deku back up instinctually. He forced the Hound to remain where he stood as a large hand reached out, clasping his shoulder in a vice grip. The hand caused all of the writhing identities inside of him to still.

“You’ve come a long way, child, and in such a short time. It was less than a year ago that you remained in the cage, a thing of madness. You were no better than a dog. Do you recall?”

“Yes, I-I…I do.”

“Good.” The hand pressed on him and his quaking knees threatened to buckle. “Never forget where you came from, boy. You are not a person like the others. You are my creation, sculpted to help carry out the plans for the new world. You have no purpose other than what I give to you. You will play your part, or I will unmake you. You do understand.”

It was not a question. Deku nodded numbly. He quickly remembered Sensei’s lesson, and said, “I do understand. T-thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

“Your talents make you particularly suited for this assignment. I trust you, Izuku. I know you won’t disappoint.”

Another shudder. Of course, Sensei trusted him. It was in the nature of a hound to adapt and shape to its environment. That had been the first thing Sensei taught him.

“In light of your high performance, I have something in mind to give you. A reward to help with your upcoming task.”

Oh, no.

Deku’s trembling increased, the bones of his legs turning to jelly. Whatever Sensei wanted to give him, it would only make things so much worse. His body and mind were tangled and misshapen enough already.

“T-that's really not…. I don’t think another one is a good idea right now-”

“Silence.”

Deku’s mouth slammed shut. He wanted to cry. He wanted to beg and grovel like a cowering dog. He knew it was futile. Sensei had too much ambition. He often got carried away by his discoveries and cared little for the consequences. There was another mutant-type quirk he wanted Deku to possess, no matter how much it might cost his body and soul to do so.

What was left inside him to sever away?

He would soon find out.

 

---

 

Sensei gave Deku five or six quirks in total. Five, not counting the generic transformation quirk that meant nothing to a terrified child recently torn away from the cooling body of his mother. He does not know if he had the quirk before they took him or not. Why they wanted him in particular, he does not know either. There is little of the “him” from before left to remember.

Sensei called them “gifts.” Deku would know them as the new occupants in his head, taking up space where there should exist a whole person. He often wonders if he exists at all, or if he was simply a malformed amalgamation of the traits and powers rammed into his body, separated by trauma and necessity. He does not know the exact order they were gifted to him. The Hound probably came first. He is the undercurrent to everything Deku feels. He is the reason Deku stays complacent – how he survives.

Angel came after. He was like a shining light in the world when there was no one. Not exactly a “friend,” as Deku would call him. Angel has too much of a superiority complex to truly befriend anyone. The same is true of Rat and Dragon, though for vastly different reasons.

It took years in that cage to pull together a semblance of humanity. The others both helped in their different ways and hindered him. Together they pieced themselves into something resembling a human, something functional. When they finally released him from that cage, he was a trembling, malleable mess, willing to do anything and everything required of him so long as he never returned. The various members of the League taught him well enough. Some of them liked his fear and took advantage. His education came in many forms, some not so intentional. They had plans to insert him into the hero academy as a mole. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Deku would do it faithfully.

Only a week before they planted him, Sensei gave Deku his final gift. That week was lost from his memory. The others told him he had done well, training with them and going over strategies. He had been sociable and quick to learn. He didn’t feel like himself anymore (not that he ever felt like anyone in the first place, and yet). Something was different. A shadow now lurked at the corner of his eyes. Nightmare, he called the newest of the group.

And then there were five.

Chapter 2: Deku begins his assignment

“Welcome to the academy,” said the bored teacher at the gate. He eyed the lightly-packed bag slung over Deku’s shoulder. “My name is Shota Aizawa. I’ll be your homeroom teacher for the term. Is that everything you brought with you?”

Deku tightened his grip on the strap of his backpack. Was he supposed to have more things? He didn’t have his uniform or supplies yet.

“Y-yes?”

The teacher looked at him with a strange, flat expression. He was being examined. Deku tried not to fidget under the man’s intense stare. He didn’t know where he was or how he got here. He had a vague recollection of someone dropping him off. His memories tended to get fuzzy when he was nervous, and since this latest gift from Sensei…

Well. At the very least, he knew this was his major assignment. The details would come back to him when he needed them.

Shota Aizawa, his third eye informed him. Pro hero Eraserhead. Underground. Works as a teacher at the Hero Academy U.A. High School. Can erase a quirk so long as he watches the user.

Deku blinked hard. Aizawa was evidently not employing his talents at the moment. The power of the third eye was new to him, and it made his head throb with tension. It didn’t seem he could turn it off.

U.A High School, huh? It sounded familiar.

The teacher rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Well then. Kozue Oshiro, right? I’m not mixing you up with some other kid standing outside our school?”

It was always a possibility. “That’s…that’s me.”

“Right.”

Aizawa didn’t look convinced.

“I’m sure you are aware that it’s the weekend. The construction of the dorms has been pushed back, meaning we still have some time left before you can live on campus. That means you have to live with me for the next few weeks.”

Deku wondered who was the unfortunate one in this situation. Probably him.

The teacher continued, “While we’re here, I thought it would be a good time to show you the grounds. You’ll be disoriented enough on Monday without getting lost. And there were a few things Principal Nezu wanted to clear up about your quirk as well.”

Terror clawed up Deku’s spine. He did his best not to let any of it leak out. He didn’t even know this Nezu person, anyway. He might be nice. Ha.

“Okay.”

Something about his reaction made Aizawa pause. He didn’t mention it. He turned and said, “Follow me then,” and Deku did as he was told.

I don’t like him, sniffed Rat. He suspects we’re up to something.

Dragon stirred from his slumber. A fight? He gurgled, his voice calling from far underwater.

Deku ignored them. For now.

Their steps echoed across the campus yard. Daku felt the ground stretch on forever. He couldn’t recall being in a space so large. When had he last been outside, watching the setting sun?

“Watch your step.”

Deku halted in his tracks as the man in front of him stalled, opening the front door to the enormous, gleaming, many-windowed building awaiting them. It was then that a fraction of what Sensei wanted from him hit him in the chest.

This assignment was going to be a problem.

The teacher gave Deku another one of those suspicious looks. Deku studiously ignored him as he ascended the steps and entered the jaws of his doom.

Each part of him had different reactions to being inside the school. The Hound’s instincts were ingrained into him: don’t like big space, don’t like scary sounds, don’t like unknown people.

But that was always what the Hound felt. Rat was looking for escape routes, angles of attack, anything to keep them alive. That was what Rat did best, and he did it at every hour of the day. Dragon was content to slumber onward for the time being. He kept one eye slightly ajar, ready to spring into action should Deku need him.

And then, there was the newest part of him. He didn’t care to know what that particular shadow had to say.

The most prominent voice clamoring inside him, however, was Angel. Deku couldn’t help but be swept up in his fiery passion. Angel was most similar to what he imagined he had been before the cage: impassioned, loyal, prideful. Angel knew their true goal in this assignment, and yet he couldn’t help but revel in the chance to attend a school and be someone significant. And a hero school, at that.

Calm yourself, Deku told him. Set realistic expectations. Angel of course ignored his advice.

They walked through the echoing halls in silence. It felt like walking in a dream. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe Deku was still in that cage and had finally lost his marbles.

“Inside here, please.”

Deku startled, standing in a new place, an unknown amount of time having passed. Aizawa guested with his chin to another open doorway. “Right here.”

Dubiously, haltingly, Deku entered the room. A large desk and a big chair waited inside. No one occupied them that he could see.

I sense it, shrilled the Hound at his temples. Danger!

Go away stupid mutt!

The chair moved, and suddenly he didn’t know if the Hound had been so wrong. There was a presence in the room he had not noticed before. His spine stiffened as a small animal in a suit stepped onto the desk and bowed deeply to him.

“Hello!” greeted the white rodent with an intelligence quirk. Already, he reminded Deku of Rat’s nervous cunning. “Principal Nezu, at your service!”

Deku shifted on his feet. Was he supposed to applaud? Toga’s education had been a bit…lacking.

The principal lifted a cup of tea. “I must admit, you are an interesting case, Kozue Oshiro. A last-minute student entered through official recommendation, whose guardians are not here to greet us, or to care for you while we complete the dorms… You wouldn’t happen to know which hero provided your recommendation to the school, would you? The board has been surprisingly tight-lipped on that subject.”

“Um, no?”

Nezu cleared his throat, and there followed a long moment of silence which Deku felt he was meant to fill.

“As it stands,” the principal continued at last, “your quirk application forms were frustratingly short on details. This must be corrected to place you in the appropriate course. I understand it is something of a minor transformation quirk?”

Deku pulled tighter on his backpack strap. “Um, I guess you could say that…”

He tried in desperation to recall everything he and Shigaraki had studiously drilled over the past week. If only he hadn’t been so occupied with holding together the pieces of his sanity.

Aizawa shifted beside him and the principal sipped his tea. “Take your time. And don’t be so nervous! It’s not a problem if you find it hard to explain. We’re no strangers to weird or overly complex quirks. We simply need to know all the aspects of what we’re dealing with. Why don’t you take a seat?”

Deku hadn’t been aware of the chair behind him, but he sat, as the principal suggested. There was another long pause, and this time Deku understood he was meant to be the one to speak.

“Right. So, my quirk.” He licked his dry lips, mouth sticky. “You know I can transform? A…a little bit?”

“A little bit” was a major stretch. He waited on the adults this time, and they nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“I can…I mean, I can transform parts of my body, depending on the situation. Just…animal stuff, y’know?” He swallowed. “N-nothing overly specific. Claws, and larger ears, and enhanced muscles for running a-and stuff.” He raised his hand and grew out his nails into Dragon’s claws. “Only certain animals. I could make a list for you, but, ah, it might be a lot.”

“Humm…” Nezu muttered, examining him with those twinkling dark eyes. The Hound should have wanted to chase this creature down, but the Hound was also a coward at heart, and so the cutting, too-knowing gaze of the principal made Deku shrink away. “And which animals?”

Deku hesitated. Had he gone too far with that? He needed to keep his full transformations a secret for the sake of his assignment. “Their, ah, m-mammals? Mostly, I mean, I can do some other things too if I try, but those are the easier things.”

Aizawa jumped in, “So this is localized to a single body part?”

“Yes?”

The teacher narrowed his eyes and Deku hastily continued, “I-I mean, I can do more but it kind of hurts? And it’s harder. Easier to f-focus on one thing at a time.”

All true. The best lies were centered in truth. Shigaraki had taught him.

“You said it hurts. Is that due to over-use as well? Are there any other effects we should know about?”

“Um…I, um…”

Deku’s gaze flittered from one expectant face to the other and then down to his fidgeting hands. What to say to that question, he had no iota of a clue. He felt suddenly too light, too out of his head. What was Sensei thinking, putting him in this den of wolves?

“Kid?”

He jolted. “Right. So. My quirk.” He bit his lip and tried to keep the Hound’s canines from drawing blood. “No? I mean, if I use it too much, I get kind of antsy. More…more than usual, I guess.” He let out a scattered laugh. No one else joined him.

Aizawa frowned. “Is something wrong? Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh – ah. Why-why would you say that?”

He tried to play it off as nothing. Rat signed internally and pushed Deku out of the driver’s seat. My turn, before you ruin everything.

“I’m fine.” Rat cleared his throat, interrupting the adults before they could answer. “Should I not be nervous about my first time in such a prestigious institution?”

The two adults exchanged looks. “I suppose,” Aizawa began, “but-”

“Nothing to worry about. I do feel somewhat overwhelmed by the enormity of everything. I didn’t even know I was coming until last week. I’m sure you understand.”

More lies buried in truth. Rat reveled in his tangled knots.

“Could we go to your house now? I’m very tired. I’d like to get a good night’s rest.”

His homeroom teacher stared down at him, something shifting behind his level gaze. Deku stared back stubbornly. It was the perfect thing to say, and yet perhaps a little too perfect. Teenagers were rarely so articulate. Still, the man would have nothing to complain about this way.

Nezu clapped his small paws. “Wonderful! I understand young Oshiro still requires his supplies. You can both return tomorrow to pick up a spare uniform and books. Does that sound agreeable to everyone?”

“Agreed,” said Rat, nodding sharply.

Aizawa signed after a long moment of consideration. “Agreed.”

And so began Deku’s life in a new, very different sort of hell.

Chapter 3: Deku goes to dinner

The ride to Aizawa’s home was awkwardly long and short at once. That didn’t matter to Deku. He was too stuck in his head, arguing with the voices inside him like a four-way ping-pong match.

Let me stay in charge, Rat insisted. They trust me. I can be a good student. I can be watchful like the master wants.

Angel easily pushed him aside. You would make a terrible option! No one wishes for a scheming rodent to rescue them. Me, on the other hand…

Deku and Dragon both rolled their eyes in unison. Amateurs, Dragon huffed. Deku rolled his eyes at Dragon, too.

Like you’re one to talk. We all know the same things!

“So…”

Aizawa cleared his throat. He was watching Deku through the rearview mirror. “Your father is a hero from Nagasaki, also with a non-specific animal transformation quirk. And your mother is…quirkless.”

The man had a strange way of making conversation. Still, it saved Deku the energy to recall the details of his cover. He shrugged. It was a lie, but it felt right, somehow.

A smile, more of a grimace, tugged at the corner of the teacher’s mouth. “Not especially talkative, are you?”

“What should I say?”

The question came out a little too forced, too robotic.

Aizawa frowned. “Nothing. You don’t have to say anything.”

The rest of the ride continued in strained silence.

They arrived at the little apartment complex in time to watch the sun vanish below the city skyline. Aizawa escorted him up several flights of outside steps. Deku was dead on his feet by the time they arrived at the apartment and he stumbled into the front room. He removed his shoes, almost falling over as he did, and placed them on the rack where his teacher indicated. That was one of the few things Toga instilled into him during his social “reeducation.” She had weird a thing about household customs.

The sound of a merry whistle emanated from the kitchen, along with some very tantalizing smells. Dragon and the Hound lifted their heads at that. Deku’s stomach let out a low rumble.

“I see I don’t need to ask if you’re hungry.” Aizawa threw his bag on the floor against the couch. He motioned with his head toward the kitchen. “My husband Hisashi Yamada will be your school president. At home, however, he’s more of a domestic type. I’m sure you’ll get along swimmingly.”

“…Okay.” Deku was staring after the kitchen, trying to keep in his drool.

The teacher rubbed his face. “Hey, kid. Are those senses of yours enhanced all the time, or only when you transform?”

Deku stiffened. He could lie and say no. Keep one of his best weapons close, at the expense of future mistakes. He didn’t want to do that, either. Every option felt like a bad idea.

“Kid?”

“I, um.” Deku fidgeted. “Yes? I mean, kind of…”

“Kind of,” the man repeated flatly.

“Y-yes, sir. I guess they are a little heightened. You know, on their own…”

“Well then. I’ll remind Hizashi not to use his quirk around you. He’s usually not so bad, but sometimes he gets a little carried off.”

As if on cue, the sounds of water ceased in the kitchen. “Oh, honey!” called an enthusiastic voice. “I can hear you!”

Aizawa pulled down at the skin around his eyes in evident exhaustion. When the bright, spiky-haired face of his husband burst into the front room, however, Aizawa’s smile was genuine.

Hizashi Yamada, recited the third eye. President of U.A. High School. Known pro hero President Mic. Married to pro hero Eraserhead. Quirk: enhanced voice.

There was more, but Deku shut it down. His forehead throbbed, and he resisted the urge to clutch his face in the middle of an introduction. The room was suddenly ten degrees too cold.

“And you must be Oshiro! Welcome, welcome! What was this again about me getting carried off?”

The two adults embraced for a quick kiss, and Deku found himself looking down at his feet, heat rising in his face. People hooked up all the time around the League HQ, but something about this was too real. Too meaningful. The phantom brush of hands rolled across his back, and he shivered, banishing all the thoughts in his head.

Aizawa separated them. “When don’t you get carried off?” he grumbled.

The two turned back to Deku. Hizashi said, “I take it my illustrious voice isn’t appreciated by everyone.”

Deku looked to Aizawa, not sure what to say. His new homeroom teacher seemed to find that amusing.  

“Our guest has a quirk that enhances the senses. That means we need to bring things down a notch.”

“Well, I say it’s a shame! But I take your point. I can turn down the volume sometimes.”

Hizashi’s volume had stayed relatively the same, so Deku took it to mean he would refrain from getting any louder. Great. Just fantastic.

“Where do I sleep?” Deku asked abruptly. He wanted to put down his bag. He looked at the couch. It seemed comfortable enough.

“Oh, no!” Hizashi scolded, and Deku flinched, wondering where else they might think to put him. He started looking for broom closets or basements. Of course, they didn’t have a basement, living in a nice apartment complex. But they might have a panic room. Those could just as easily be used to keep people inside as well as out. The Hound was pounding in his chest now, and Dragon at his clenched hands, and Rat squeaking into his ear things he couldn’t pay attention to right now, Rat. Go away!

“Your room is just over here!”

The blond hero gestured down the hallway. Both heroes looked at him expectantly, and Deku swallowed, trying to take a deep breath. They were watching him. Scrutinizing his every move. He needed to get himself under control.

He followed the couple down the hallway to what would be his room for the foreseeable future. Hizashi kept talking, “We have an official fostering license, so different kids have used this room over the years. It shouldn’t be a problem. If you find any secret stashes of drugs, be sure and let us know!”

Deku stood alone by the bed while the other two waited outside. He turned to them. Hizashi held an oddly expectant look on his face while Aizawa spent the last minute in quiet observation. Had the last part been a joke? Deku didn’t know if he should laugh, and it was too late now to laugh, anyway. So he stared at them.

“Right.” Hizashi chuckled nervously. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. We’ll get you if you haven’t come out to join us. Okay?”

It felt more like a threat than a statement of fact. Deku nodded, and the two walked away, going back to the kitchen. He went to the door and closed it behind them, having to tug out the claws stuck in his backpack strap. The door didn’t have a lock.

Deku sighed, tossing his bag onto the bed. He opened the zipper and searched inside. There wasn’t much to find. He had a few changes of socks and underwear, one pair of pants, and a t-shirt. He had a toothbrush but no paste. Damn it, who had been in charge of packing his bag? Maybe it was him, and he didn’t remember.

The room was larger than anywhere else he’d ever lived. Done with everything he could think to do, Deku stood by the door and listened. Dogs were often thought to have the highest range of hearing among animals. In truth, rodents can hear at much higher ranges than dogs, making them more suitable to situations like this one.

Deku summoned a bit of Rat and pressed his large, rounded ear to the door. The two husbands muttered in the kitchen. They knew he had the potential to listen in on them. The thing is: if you take the ear of a rodent and size it up to human proportions, you get something far, far more powerful.

“…think Nezu might be right on this,” Aizawa was saying. “There’s just so many little things, stuff I can’t quite articulate. What do you think?”

Hizashi hummed. “I trust your judgment.”

“What, don’t want to throw in your opinion?”

“You know my opinion already. It’s the same as yours.”

They suspect us! hissed Rat.

They are heroes, Angel chastised him. They suspect everyone coming into their school. We must do our best to prove we are true of heart.

They finished making dinner without further comments. Deku opted to leave and join the table rather than having the adults come and get him. He shuffled awkwardly at the edge of the room until Hizashi spotted him and insisted he take a seat. “I hope you like Donburi. Are there any particular toppings you don’t want?”

Deku stared at him blankly. Was that a test question?

“…I guess I’ll throw it all on, then. Let me know if I put too much.”

Deku didn’t know why he would do that, so he sat in silence while the blond-haired hero filled up his bowl with rice, sliced pork, and fried vegetables. It smelled like everything he ever dreamed a restaurant would taste like. His eyes trailed the food as it came closer, and he resisted the urge to snatch it and pile it into his mouth.

He stilled the Hound rioting inside him to eat the food before someone took it away. His hands shook on his lap as he stared at the steaming, still-simmering bowl before him, waiting for the others to get their meals and sit down. The two heroes said a silent prayer of thanks, and Deku dipped his head, pleading with whatever deity to please just let him eat already. He slid his hand up along the table to still his quaking as he retrieved the chopsticks. He picked up a piece of pork, and somehow he managed to raise it to his mouth. He ate the meat.

Suddenly, no one else was in the room with him except that bowl of Donburi. He shoveled bite after bite into his mouth until he was halfway down and choking. He coughed a few times when rice traveled down the wrong tube, and someone started padding his back like Toga did when he panicked.

Voices filtered back to him slowly.

“…The hell do you do that for?” Hizashi was scolding him, though not in an especially mean way. He sounded a little alarmed, to be honest. The two of them had probably been telling him to slow down for a while before he started to choke.

“Sorry,” Deku managed to rasp as he took a swig of his water. “I got a little carried away. Your food. It, ah, it smells good.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Are strong smells going to be a problem?”

“No! I-I mean, it won’t happen again. I’m just not used to eating food that tastes this good.”

“You’ve never had Donburi?”

“I, ah…”

There was always the possibility his mother made it for him. He couldn’t even remember her face now, let alone the taste of her home-cooked meals. The majority of what he knew was the salty tang of instant ramen or canned soup. They fed him granola bars in the cage when they were generous. He still can’t smell oats or peanuts without feeling sick.

But he couldn’t say that, of course. For all these people knew, he had loving parents waiting for him to return next weekend. He was supposed to be a normal kid who did normal things like eating wonderful meals every day.

Surprisingly, Angel decided to answer, saying, “My mother’s cooking is quite lacking. While I do appreciate her hard work, I wouldn’t say I have a good time eating at home.”

It was convenient that nothing he said was a lie. Angel hated lying, even when he knew it was necessary.

Hizashi said, “Well maybe that’s why you’re so scrawny. You gotta get some meat on those bones if you wanna be a hero, kid. But go slower this time.”

“R-right.” Deku picked up his chopsticks again. He suddenly felt very, very full. He probably hadn’t eaten this many calories in a while. He thought he might throw up if he continued, but he picked up another piece of pork and shoved it in his mouth regardless, showing them he could eat more slowly. At least it still tasted like heaven.

They continued with their meal for a few minutes. Eventually, Aizawa announced, “We’re going back to the school again tomorrow to pick up your books. We still have to request a uniform, but for the time being you can borrow one of our spares that fit. Have you filled out a uniform request form yet?”

Deku shook his head, so Aizawa went to his office and came back with a paper to fill out with all of his measurements. There was a large section available for special requests. Deku considered asking for slots under his arms so he could summon his wings. He decided against it.

“You’ll have a similar form for your hero costume, but we can use the numbers on this one so long as they’re correct. I’ll give you more time to make a sketch for that.”

Deku stared down at the form. “T-thank you,” he said hastily. Never forget your manners. “I’m very grateful this is an option, it’s just…”

“You don’t know your measurements.”

“Um, yeah.” Deku felt his face heating up. “I have no clue.”

His homeroom teacher hummed. He had probably suspected as much. “Well, we’ll just have to figure it out. You have your measuring tape, Hizashi?”

“I can find it!”

They spent the next half-hour measuring Deku from head to foot and filling out the form. By the time they were done, he was ready to pass out on his feet. They said goodnight and he tottered back to his too-large room and shut the door. Going to his backpack, he pulled out the disposable flip phone Dabi had probably given him and read the message on the screen.

Emergency mission, it said. His third eye instantly devoured the message and then he deleted it.

Deku went to the bed and lay down. He was tired. He would sleep for however long his body allowed, usually a few hours at most, and then get up to fulfill his mission.

Tonight, Angel was going out for a spin.

Chapter 4: Angel gets a night out

“Alright.” Deku took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his nerves. He stood on the apartment complex roof, shirtless and barefoot, wearing only his utility pants and Angel’s goggles clutched in his hands. He paced back and forth a few times, trying to psych himself into jumping off the edge.  

He shook out his arms and legs, envisioning what Angel’s power felt like coursing through him.

You could allow me control, Angel argued.

Deku ignored him. Angel would have control enough while they used his form. He couldn’t afford to lean too heavily into any of his personas, or they might take him over completely.

And what’s so wrong with that? I’m perfect! I would lead us to victory!

Ignoring him, Deku stepped to the ledge and looked down. He swallowed and stepped back. Okay. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. It was fine, though. He had done this plenty of times before with Dabi. He could do it on his own, no problem.

Deku closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He held out his arms, fully allowing Angel’s power to ignite inside him. His whole body jolted from the force of righteous fire washing through his blood, cleansing him. His bones were set on fire as the change took hold. That was probably the worst part about using Angel. All the changes hurt in their own way, but Angel had the most extreme mutations. His bones took on a lighter consistency and warped to an anatomy better suited for flight. His arms and feet grew longer while his thigh bones shrank, bringing his knees closer to his body. His fingers thickened and elongated until his arm span more than doubled his height. Deku bit back a groan as flight feathers grew out of the bone of his arms and tore through his skin. He had twenty on each wing, with smaller feathers on top to help him steer in the air. Hundreds and hundreds of softer feathers burst across his head and torso. They were tinted a rusty brown in the dark of the city nightlights.

And those were only the most obvious changes. Inside, Deku’s body was burning. He couldn’t breathe for a time as his lungs divided and moved in his chest, his entire respiratory system getting a re-arrangement. He almost fell when his toes curled into nasty claws, skewing his balance. He hunched forward and clutched his face as Angel’s beak warped his mouth and broke his jaw.

The mutant who stood on the roof was not quite a bird and not quite a bat. His feathered wings reminded Deku more of those flying dinosaurs than any existing creature. He could still use his clawed thumb and first finger to grab onto things, which was especially useful on jobs. He used them to feel his face, flexing the strange, owl-like beak where his mouth and nose used to rest. It was strange, that part. The beak was more of a covering – Deku still had all his regular human teeth.

Angel stepped up to the ledge. Unlike Deku’s boring, regular form, Angel’s feet clutched the edge with confidence, his balance better than any human. His sharp eyes raked the city skyline for movement. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Well then. He would have to change that, wouldn’t he?

Sliding the goggles over his face, Angel stepped back from the ledge. He flapped his arms several times to feel the air currents. Then, he got a running start – one, two, three huge running jumps – and threw himself into the sky.

“Yeah!” Angel couldn’t help but shout as the air caught his wings and yanked him higher, above the approaching building in front of him. He flapped and rose to greater heights. The night’s wind was cold against his skin, but Angel’s fire kept him warm.

This was true freedom!

He and Dabi had practiced flying and using his feathers as weapons in abandoned parking lots. This was the first he had gotten to really stretch his wings. Despite Angel’s flaws, the mutant embodied the soul of purpose and adventure. Deku’s problems began to disappear as he became someone else, a hero who could face anything thrown his way.

Except we’re a villain, Rat reminded him.

Yeah, yeah. Angel rolled his eyes. Whatever.

Tonight was supposed to be observation-only. Shigaraki wanted to get the point on Stain’s movements. The League wanted to recruit him, but wouldn’t risk a play until they had an upper hand. Any blackmail material would be doubly rewarded. Shigaraki knew Deku had wings to fly and good eyes. More than that, he knew Deku’s newest gift, a thing that would give him a tremendous advantage in this exact kind of situation.

The thought of what he was meant to do made him shiver. But he wasn’t Deku right now, the little coward bullied by practically everyone he met. No. He was Angel, and Angel wasn’t afraid of the Nightmare.

Eyes wide, he allowed the third eye on his forehead to crack open. Not very far. The knowledge it would give him was already too much to remember later. He had to keep the power focused, or else he would wake up three days from now, not knowing his name.

The city skyline blurred into a haze, then sharpened. The people walking along the street stood out like red pinpricks of light. The more time he spent looking at one, the more detailed and realistic they became, until he could have been walking right alongside them. He reeled the power back suddenly when his wing clipped the side of a skyscraper. He blinked, and his focus changed to the buildings, those standing out and leaving the people invisible.

Angel grit his teeth when his head throbbed in pain. Flying and using the third eye together was harder than he thought. He tried looking for the people again, this time taking firmer control of the eye and demanding answers from it. Give me what I want, he pressed, give me Stain!

The third eye obliged, but not before punishing him with a vicious stab to the temple. The eye opened just the tiniest bit further and swiveled wildly, almost knocking Angel out of the air from the dizzying mismatch of images. Then the eye snapped to a halt, focused on a target far below. A tall, lanky man with a ratted scarf around his neck sat hunched on a roof at the north side of town. He was a lot closer to Aizawa’s apartment complex than Angel had suspected he would be. He wasn’t moving at all. He sat and observed the city below him. Waiting.

Angel knew enough predators to recognize one searching for a meal.

He swooped closer to Stain’s location, staying far enough away to avoid attention. He wasn’t supposed to do anything except observe. A pretty easy assignment. There was only one, tiny, actually huge problem with that.  

Eraserhead was also on the prowl.

The third eye informed him of the knowledge and took its toll in the process. Angel was forced to shut it down before he fell out of the sky. Damn it, what was Aizawa doing out so late? Or early, more like. He supposed it was a weekend night, meaning he didn’t have any school to teach tomorrow. He was probably planning to tough out the sleepiness while escorting Deku around for the day.

That didn’t fix the problem of Stain perched just a few blocks away. Was the hero-killer waiting for Aizawa specifically? It didn’t matter in either case. Eraserhead wasn’t a very well-known hero, but he was a hero, and Stain would use that excuse to take him out. Angel needed to divert his attention before their paths could cross.

Folding in his wings, Deku went down at a steep dive. He angled for the rooftop just in front of the one where Aizawa stood. Shooting out his wings and flapping a few times, he came stumbling to an awkward stop, almost ambling right over the edge of the building. That was the problem with physics-based flight quirks. Any minor disturbance during takeoff or landing meant a messy crash.

He couldn’t have been more obvious if he tired. Eraserhead watched him in confusion while Angel reeled his arms, trying to regain balance. He laughed nervously as he finally got himself under control and faced the pro hero.

“Greetings!” Angel called, waving a wing.

Deku would have palmed his face in exasperation if he had palms. We were supposed to be observing…

“Hello?” Eraserhead said. Angel could almost see his eyes narrow behind his goggles. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet!” Angel declared. “Be assured, fine hero, that you will soon know my name!”

Eraserhead raised an eyebrow. “And that name is…?”

“It’s, ah…” Angel's mind went characteristically blank. He couldn’t just call himself Angel, could he? He had a secret identity to uphold!

You could be Phoenix, suggested Rat in his mousy way, almost like he gnawed at a pencil in thought. Or maybe Emberwing, or Fire-falcon, or Firebird, or-

“I am Firebird!”

Deku had thought the option the weakest of the list, but he supposed it worked well enough. It was too late now to switch, anyway.

“Can I help you, ah, Firebird?”

Angel pointed to Aizawa with his wing. The length of it almost spanned the gap between him and the building where the hero stood. “We are enemies, you and I, for I am an associate of the notorious League of Villains! You are Eraserhead, underground hero to the people. It is our destiny that we meet in glorious battle!”

The mention of the League made Eraserhead tense. “Do you know what you’re talking about?” he asked. “How old are you? Twelve? You’re out flying in the middle of the night. And not very well, I might add.”

A very undignified sound like a chicken’s squawk burst from Angel’s chest. He cleared his throat. “I am a mature adult, actually, and a perfect flyer! I have more knowledge than you can imagine! For instance…” Angel took a step back, letting the tension grow, “I know the person you and your little hero friends are looking for.”

“Do you, now.”

“Of course.” Angel held up the one finger on his right hand. “You want Stain,” he said and reveled in the widened eyes of his teacher. Aizawa opened his mouth to demand where he had gotten that information, but Angel continued, interrupting him, “And I might tell you about him one day. But that’s not who I was referring to. No, Eraserhead. Think for a second. I know about the person you really want.”

He waited, watching the gears turn. He was already on the move when he saw Aizawa’s lips mouthing the name. The name Angel couldn’t allow himself to think for fear of fearing him. He was Angel. He wasn’t allowed to be afraid.

“Don’t use your quirk,” he called out to Eraserhead as he got a running start toward the ledge, “Or I’ll die!”

“Wait-!”

A white scarf snapped out and grabbed Angel’s bare ankle. Angel flapped as hard as he could, giving himself more height, and then brought his wings together, snagging one of the medium-sized feathers off of his opposite wing. He flung the feather at the scarf. The quill caught fire as soon as it left him, alight like a beacon. The explosive heat of it cut the scarf neatly in half. Eraserhead was forced to dodge as the missile blazed past his head.

“See you around, hero!”

Angel shot across the sky in the opposite direction as Stain. He made sure to fly low enough that Eraserhead could chase him for a few blocks. Then he angled upward, flying higher and higher until he vanished from sight.

We’re going to regret that…Rat and Deku thought together.

Angel would agree to disagree.

Chapter 5: Deku gets new stuff

Notes:

So I am planning to upload around this time on Mondays and Thursdays until school starts again, and then I expect things to slow down. I have so many cool ideas for this fic you guys have no iota of comprehension

Deku and Aizawa had equal bags of defeat under their eyes at breakfast. Aizawa for obvious reasons. He was a hero with a new enigma flying around to worry about. Deku had likewise failed in his attempts to locate his target. He had returned to find Stain gone from his spot, and he couldn’t use the third eye so soon without consequences. He had spent the wee hours of the morning looking for anything to give Shigaraki and came up empty-winged.

That meant he was going to have to go out again tonight.

“Something wrong with your breakfast?” Hizashi asked.

“Oh, ah…”

It must be strange to them, watching Deku devour the Donburi the night before, and now just sitting and staring at his bowl.

Oatmeal. It had honey and nice little fruits on top. Deku should have been starving after all the flying he did last night. Smelling the oats cooking, however, his stomach had clenched up. He tried his best to hold back his nausea.

“It’s nothing,” he choked out, grimacing. “Not very hungry, I guess.”

“You should at least try to eat,” Aizawa said tiredly, sitting down with his own bowl. “We have a lot of errands to run today.” He was looking at his phone, responding to someone’s message. Deku’s third eye offered to give him the information for a price. He refused. His head hurt enough already.

“R-right.”

He picked up his spoon and nibbled on a strawberry. The two men noticed his lack of enthusiasm, but none mentioned it. Hizashi began to do the dishes while Aizawa ate. “You should add our contacts to your phone,” the teacher said, still typing on his screen.

“I don’t…” Deku trailed off when both men’s eyes trained on him. The Hound did not like that. “Ah, I d-don’t have a phone.” The cheap flip phone currently hidden in his bag didn’t count. He ducked his head down. “Sorry.”

“No phone?” Hizashi said in wonderment. “At your age?”

Aizawa frowned. “Why are you sorry? You don’t have control over whether or not your parents gave you a phone.”

“Yeah…I guess…”

The man visibly resisted rubbing his face. He didn’t want Deku to feel like a burden, as though Deku didn’t already. “I’ll add it to our shopping list, then. You need a phone if you’re going to attend U.A., in case of an emergency.”

“Okay.”

“Kid…”

Aizawa trailed off. He and his husband exchanged looks. “Nevermind. Finish your breakfast, and we’ll go.”

Deku managed to choke down all the fruit and a few bites of oatmeal. He should have known it was a mistake when ten minutes later he was heaving up everything he ate into the toilet bowl.

We should have come up with a better excuse, Rat said unhelpfully.

Grimacing, Deku wiped his mouth and flushed the toilet. At least he had managed to keep the puking quiet. He had plenty of practice there.

They left Aizawa’s apartment shortly after, diving to the school first. Deku kept quiet for most of the ride, starting at the sights outside the window. He had never seen this side of the city before. He had never seen a lot of its sides.

The school interior was much the same as yesterday: too big and echoey, with not enough people to fill out the walkways. This is my school, Deku thought idly as he trialed behind his teacher. This is the school I dreamt about as a little kid.

But that had been then, and this was now. That innocent, quirkless child was a distant memory to which Deku had no attachment. Survival did not care about people’s dreams. It was kind of bitchy like that.

They went to a small room filled with several sizes of uniforms and Aizawa left so Deku could try them on and find one that fit. With the teacher gone, Deku felt oddly ungrounded. He picked out the smallest jacket and tried it on. It didn’t exactly fit, per se, but it was as close to something fitting as he would get. He grabbed the matching pants and folded the clothes to take with him. He paused right before opening the door. A loud something rang against the background hum of the building’s inner workings. Probably a generator of some kind. He found it distracting, and the more he listened to it, the louder it got, until it filled his whole head with an overwhelming buzzing.

A knock on the door startled him and he gasped. The buzz faded into the background.

“Kozue? Are you done yet?”

Deku’s breathing was too rapid. He took a few deep breaths, getting it and his shaking under control. He opened the door. Aizawa looked down on him in concern. “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” said Rat innocently. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were in there for over twenty minutes.”

“Oh, er.” Even Rat stumbled at that information. “I think it important to get the correct uniform. That’s all.”

Aizawa eyed the tiny bundle of clothes under his arm. “Hum. I’m sure.”

They got his books next, and Deku started to sweat, having to haul the huge bundle around with his new uniform sitting on top. Maybe Hizashi was right about him needing to eat more. He wished his transformation quirk allowed him to change into anything he wanted, or at least grow a few inches. Alas, he needed a solid basis on which to morph. That was probably a good thing, considering his lack of knowledge on the inner workings of regular or mutant bodies. Without that basis he might turn into a blob on the floor.

Sensing someone in his way, Deku stepped to the side, too lost in thought following Aizawa to consider what he was doing.

“You’re very perceptive, Oshiro-kun,” said an amused voice.

Deku halted and turned around. No one. He moved the stack of books to the side to see the principal standing beside him. It was strange to stand over anyone, let alone the person he was supposed to follow orders from. Should he be scared of the principle? He felt terrified, but that wasn’t exactly abnormal.

Those dark, shiny eyes watched him like a hawk. Deku swallowed. “T-thank you?”

“Your senses. They are highly enhanced?”

“A little…” Deku said, edging in the direction of Aizawa’s trail. His teacher was already far down the hall. “It, ah, comes with the territory, I guess. See you later, master Principal Nezu, sir.”

He winced at his stumble. The small principal’s eyes glittered with humor. “You as well, young learner.”

Nezu watched him until he caught up with his teacher. He smiled and waved his small paw as they turned the corner.

He’s going to be trouble, Rat commented. Deku couldn’t help but agree. At the same time, he felt Rat’s eagerness for this trial of wits like a vibration in the back of his skull. Rat loved to play his games.

 

--

 

They toyed with Deku’s new phone before dinner that night. It felt odd in his hands, as though it didn’t belong there. Hizashi and Aizawa kept their conversation light as they explained to him all the functions of a regular smartphone, but he could tell they were somewhat put off. They expected today’s youth to know far more about technology than they did. Deku had never even used a touch screen.

He sat on the couch and stared into the screen while the men finished dinner. He swiped his finger across the glass, making the app menu scroll up and down. He didn’t know what any of them did besides the obvious ones. There was a chess app. He could play on that.

Sighing, he turned off the screen and set the phone next to him on the couch. He stared at it bitterly. Kids begged and begged their parents for one of these stupid things. He felt absolutely nothing for it but contempt.

“Oh Ko-zue!” Hizashi sang from the kitchen. “Dinner is read-yyyyyy!”

Deku winced. Maybe one day Hizashi would learn to keep it down around him. There was no way Deku would crash his parade.

He walked into the kitchen and sat down at his place on the table. He knew people ate meals at tables, but this was strange for him, to look people in the eye while eating. He was used to standing in a corner, scarfing down whatever he managed to scrape from someone’s jacket pocket. Or he would sit on Toga’s ratty couch and watch the nature channel while slurping ramen. This whole event of setting out silverware and drinks felt too familial. Too homey. It made him paranoid.

“Kozue?”

“Hum?”

Deku looked up to see both men watching him with concern. “Is something wrong?”

He blinked. “No?”

The two husbands exchanged looks. They seemed more confused than anything. Aizawa said, “Are you going to eat that?”

There was a pickled vegetable in his chopsticks. He had been holding it halfway to his mouth and staring at it. “I, um…”

His mind was blank. He felt like a rabbit caught in a snare. What was wrong with him? Honestly, freaking out over a piece of carrot.

He set the chopsticks back down without eating anything. “I not sure I like this,” he admitted lamely. “I mean, I’m sorry, sir.” Shit, shit, shit….

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “So, you’ve never had tsukemono either?”

“Ah…”

Hizashi gestured at the other bowls on the table, trying to break the tension. “No problem! You can have the regular steamed ones instead. And there’s plenty of fried rice, too.”

“T-thank you, Yamada-sensei.”

Slowly, still waiting for the punishment to fall, Deku reached out and spooned himself more rice. He ate as much as he could stomach without throwing up, knowing Angel would need fuel tonight when he went out. The adults ate their supper over a quiet conversation about tomorrow’s curriculum. They thankfully didn’t invite him to join.

The three fiddled more with Deku’s phone after dinner, showing how to play videos on the internet and take notes. He supposed it was useful. He still missed his notebooks. Sensei always took them away whenever he finished one. They had given him one as part of his school supplies. Only one. Deku would be expected to use it like a normal student. That meant keeping his more astute observations to the domain of his third eye.

Deku yawned loudly, then tensed, eyeing the two men sitting opposite him on the couch.

Hizashi smiled at him ruefully. “Shopping’s a chore, huh? Wears you out.”

“Oshiro,” said Aizawa, and Deku tensed up further, glancing over at him. It felt as though his eyes were the only thing with the ability to move

“Before you go to bed, we decided to put you in class A-1, where I teach. I thought some familiarity would help as you adjust. Does that sound agreeable?”

The man was asking him. Not telling him. Was this a trick? Was Deku supposed to disagree? He couldn’t do that – it went against everything inside of him not to obey.

“…Y-yes, sir.”

Deku tried not to flinch as his new teacher breathed slowly, clearly controlling his reaction. This was it. Deku had no idea what he’d done wrong, but the timing was right. He would now receive his punishment.

“Alright,” said the man. “We’ll knock on your door when breakfast is done, but we expect you to be out of bed and mostly ready by then. You understand?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Goodnight then, Oshiro.”

“G-goodnight.”

More of a question came out as he spoke. He stood on numb legs and looked between the two adults. Slowly, he made his way toward his room, watching them watch him go. Neither made a move to follow him. They did not jump up suddenly and insisted he go a different way.

There was no punishment.

Deku felt as though he floated into his room, shutting the room behind him softly. He waited there, listening for footsteps. None came. He pulled a hand down his face. His night was just getting started.

Notes:

Next time! Deku's first day at school. Enter: classmates

Chapter 6: Deku goes to school

Duku felt like a nervous wreck the next day. He had spent far too long flying in the early hours of the morning. Angel liked to take advantage of his free time. He hadn’t encountered Eraserhead, but neither did he find anything on Stain. Everything was relatively quiet last night.

Not good.

Shigaraki would text him any second. He would probably insist on Deku meeting someone in person to give his report. Deku wished he could focus on finding Stain if he wasn’t so scared of going to school.

“Nervous?” Hizashi asked.

Deku jumped from where he stood by the door, clutching his backpack. “Oh, ah, yeah. I-I am.”

He didn’t know why. Sitting in a room listening to someone lecture all day sounded easy enough to him. A little voice in his mind (that little voice being Angel) whispered hero school!

He shushed that rambunctious piece of himself. Go back to sleep. You can be annoying once we get there.

“That’s perfectly understandable!” Hizashi clapped him on the shoulder, and Deku couldn’t resist the slight flinch. The pain from Angel’s transformation still sat hot in his bones. “If any of the students give you a hard time about anything, you come to one of us, okay?”

“O-okay. Thank you.”

Another thing to worry about. Great.

The ride to school seemed to get longer every time. The city looked strange from the level of the ground. Deku trailed nervously behind Aizawa like a stray puppy as they walked up UA’s front steps. Aizawa had on his hero costume, his school bag under his arm. They passed several students lounging outside, chatting with friends or looking at their phones. Many of them glanced at Deku curiously as they passed. A very serious-looking student spend past them with a “Good day, Aizawa-sensei,” and a curt nod in Deku’s direction.

Aizawa nodded to him in return. “Good day, Ida-kun.”

Deku guessed he was one of Aizawa’s other students, and based on how he held himself, he was destined to be class president.

Deku waited nervously in the hallway while Aizawa stepped into the teacher's area to put away his stuff and retrieve coffee. Deku could have used a little of that right now if it wouldn’t make him jumpier. He doubted anyone would give a four-and-a-half-foot-tall teenager coffee, anyway.

A girl with pink skin and hair and black eyes passed him as he waited. She waved at him confidently, and Deku ducked his head, avoiding her stare. Why was this so hard? Maybe the larger spaces, the crowds, the bright lights, or any combination of them that made the Hound so on edge. He decided then and there that he hated this place. He wanted to go home, back to his closet. He wanted to snuggle under a blanket on Toga’s couch and forget everything except the nature channel.

He was biting his nails when Aizawa returned with his coffee. He frowned down at Deku. “Did something happen?”

“Huh?”

“Stop doing that.”

Deku stopped. His thumb was bleeding. “Oh. Ah…”

Aizawa sighed through his nose. “Hold on. I’ll get a band-aid.”

Deku shifted his feet while he waited again for his teacher a second time. It wasn’t like Toga had told him not to do that in public. Then again, maybe she did and Deku hadn’t been listening.

“Here.”

Aizawa arrived with a bandage ready to stick to his finger. Deku held out his thumb as the man wrapped it. “Don’t chew on your nails. It’s an unclean habit that could get infected. If you need an activity to do with your hands, I can get you something else.”

If he summoned his Nightmare, the wound would heal on its own. Deku decided not to mention that.

“Sorr-sorry. I forgot I do that, sometimes.”

“You have a lot of nervous habits,” his teacher observed dryly.

“Um, yeah.” Deku resisted to urge to wring his hands. Probably not the best time. He stuck them in his pockets instead. “I guess so.”

What else were you supposed to do, spinning in circles in a cage?

They went to homeroom after that. The time for them to be there had already passed. Aizawa made Deku stand in the hallway while he introduced him. Deku stood like a jittery animal, wanting to flee. Why was he so nervous? He could deal with a few stares, a few words of gossip. He had larger things in the world to care about than what some teenagers thought of him.

“…And I would like to introduce your new classmate. He’s joining us on special recommendations from Nagasaki. Please welcome to your class transfer student Kozue Oshiro.”

A strange buzzing sound filled Deku’s head as he stepped from the safety of the hall into the classroom. He couldn’t bear to look at anyone at first. He stepped up beside his teacher and bowed deeply, not saying anything.

“Would you like to introduce yourself?”

No, Deku would not.

“Sure. Um…” He straightened, looking out over the dozen or so expectant pairs of eyes. “I’m K-Kozue Oshiro. I’m sorry I’m a week late, but, ah…” What was he supposed to say? “I hope to quickly catch up.”

He bowed again awkwardly. When he straightened, his eyes immediately met with someone amid the crowd. A boy in the middle right side of the class, watching Deku with a stare like molten rock. He had spiky blond hair, blazing red eyes, and an arrogant sneer on his lips.

Bakugo.

That name. Deku jolted as their eyes met. He had known this person from a long-ago lifetime. The memories, both new and old, gave Deku a dull, metallic taste in his mouth. Once, Bakugo had been his idol and his bully. He was the one who named him. Deku could not think of the word quirkless now without that face appearing in his mind’s eye. How had he forgotten? Bakugo had been his first tormentor – the start of everything. Without him, Deku would not have known what a manipulator looked like in Sensei.

“Go ahead and sit in the empty seat.”

The seat just so happened to be right behind his past bully. Deku didn’t know yet if that was a good or bad thing. He quickly shuffled past, avoiding that red glare targeting his every step.

 

--

 

The first few classes went by without incident. Aizawa escorted him to English despite Deku having a schedule on him. He had been given a tour of the grounds on Saturday, but by the way his teacher led his every unsure step, the man knew Deku didn’t remember any of it. Maybe it was customary, to be certain he wouldn’t get lost. It was a confusing building for anyone to traverse.

It turned out that Hizashi was his English teacher. Unfortunate, though thankfully he resisted yelling loud enough to shred Deku’s eardrums. It was a hard lesson for someone who’d never been taught English in a formal setting. Thankfully his third eye was adept at context clues, so he was a least semi-confident in the worksheet he turned in.

His history teacher was surprisingly a hero in a scantily-clad costume. Deku had no idea how anyone could focus on history with their teacher dressed like that. He kept his eyes on his notebook and tried not to shake the whole classroom with his restless legs.

He lied to himself when he thought sitting still would be easy. The bell for lunch was like a blessed call from heaven. Deku hurriedly stuffed his bag and made to leave. Those burning red eyes never left his back even after he turned the corner.

It was supposedly lunch now, but he had no idea where to go. He vaguely recalled being shown the cafeteria yesterday – they had eaten a quick lunch of temaki there before running more errands. That whole day was practically a paste of mashed-up memories.

What day wasn’t?

The signs along the ceiling didn’t help at all. None pointed to the direction of food. He must be on the wrong floor. Deku turned a corner he was sure he passed before, and that’s when his senses went off. Something was not right. Did he hear something past that god-awful buzzing noise? No one remained in the halls, except…

A hand grabbed Deku’s shoulder and jerked him through the door to the nearest classroom. He stumbled to a stop inside. The door slammed shut so hard behind him that it bounced back open.

“What. The fuck.”

Bakugo was fuming, red eyes blazing in the dim light of the empty classroom. He sneered. “What are you doing here, Deku?”

That name spoken aloud did strange things inside Deku. For a moment, he simply stood there and stared at his long-ago friend. Hadn’t they once been close? Why did Deku feel such a mixture of extremes inside his chest?

It didn’t matter. He couldn’t afford to let this dumbass kid ruin his assignment. No one could know his true identity.

His face twisted into a scowl. “Do I know you?”

That confused the other boy. Bakugo leaped forward and slammed Deku against the wall, forearm pressed to his chest. “Don’t bullshit me, you little creep. What’s a quirkless looser like you doing here?”

Ah. There was that word again. Inside, all five of his quirks were growing restless. He tried to push them down, but it was impossible to fend them off forever.

“Get your hands off me,” growled Dragon in a low, dangerous voice. It sounded nothing like Deku’s normal tone. It was too rough, too emotionally charged. Dragon didn’t come out very often, but when he did, somebody needed a beating. He was all Deku’s caged frustration at the world pushed into a tiny little ball. He was a grenade ready and willing to explode.

Bakugo leaned away, taken aback by the ferocity. His arm, however, only pressed harder against Deku. “Not until you answer me. Where did you go, huh? When Auntie died…” His eyes trailed the back wall. He shook himself, then ground out, “My parents wanted to adopt you, you know. No one else volunteered. But you left. The police said you went to live with family. I never fucking saw you again.”

Dragon couldn’t help it. He snorted. It was ironic that this kid considered himself to be a victim. The bully, deprived of his precious entertainment.

And it was also ironic, that practically no one had noticed Deku gone. It made sense that the League would have connections in the police department. No one really cares about quirkless children, especially after they stop showing up. That made the situation here all the more dangerous. Anyone could be a member of the League for all he knew. No one could be trusted. Not the police, not the heroes, and not his shitty ex-best friend.

Deku was lucky Dragon decided to emerge first. If not him, then the shadow wasn’t very far behind. Their entire existence, after all, was all Bakugo’s fault.

“You think this is funny?”

“I said,” Deku repeated, raising his hands to grip the arm pressed to his chest, “Get. Off. I won’t ask again.” He squeezed, allowing Bakugo to feel the power in his hands. Dragon would rip him to shreds.

Bakugo leaped away as though burned. He stared at his arm in astonishment, at the red lines where ten very sharp nails had almost cut through his skin. “What the hell…?”

“I don’t know anything about this loser,” Deku said, pushing himself off the wall. “I’m Kozue Oshiro, and you wish I were quirkless.” He raised his hand to show off the nasty claws. They were steepled from the ends of his fingers, like sharpened rock. He took a step forward and got the satisfaction of seeing the larger boy unconsciously retreat.

“What are you talking about?” Bakugo demanded. “You think I would forget that pathetic face? You haven’t changed at all!”

Deku took another step forward. “Evidently I did, seeing as my name isn’t Deku. Now get out of my way. I’m leaving.”

“Like hell you are,” Bakugo snarled. Sparks snapped at the palms of his hands. “Not until you explain where you’ve been, and how the hell you got that quirk.”

This was bad. Deku frantically tugged on Dragon’s leash, but doing so was like trying to move a boulder. Dragon rolled his shoulders and popped his neck. “Well then. If you won’t move, I’ll go through you instead.”

Two sets of blazing eyes met. Deku felt sorry for Bakugo. Almost as much as he felt sorry for himself.

Notes:

Next time! Deku makes a friend...????

Chapter 7: Deku makes a friend

“Who are you?” Bakugo demanded.

Deku rolled his eyes. “We just went over this. Kozue Oshiro. Now, are you going to fight me or what? Because otherwise, get out of my way.”

He tried to walk past, but the larger boy threw out his arm, blocking him. “No,” Bakugo said, “I know the fake name you already gave me. I want to know who you are, as in this tough guy. You aren’t Deku.”

Don’t attack, don’t attack, Deku frantically begged. We can’t murder anyone. Not on the first day!

Dragon snarled, showing off jagged teeth that fit together neater than a crocodile. “Are you stupid? I’m not the person you’re looking for. So I guess we have to fight, huh?” His snarl turned to a savage grin. “Look alive, Katsuki. There won’t be enough evidence left when I’m done with you.”

“Like hell!”

Dragon crouched into a ready stance, and already the change was starting. Deku’s nails grew longer, his teeth sharper. Cool, silvery-blue scales popped up across his back and shoulders.

No, no, no! Deku begged, hauling back on the leash even as Dragon pulled him forward one step at a time. No changes! Please! No fights!

“Am I interrupting something?”

Both of them turned to see a purple-haired boy standing in the doorway. In that instant of surprise and deflated anger, Deku wrestled back control. Without the anger, Dragon did not exist at all. He fell back underwater to remain in slumber. For the time being, anyway.

“You!” Bakugo turned his own unchecked fury toward the new arrival. “I know you, you nobody, you’re-”

Suddenly, Bakugo stopped talking. His arms fell to his sides in a very uncharacteristic manner. His eyes were wide and unseeing.

The new boy signed and pushed his way into the room. He had one hand in his pocket, the other holding his school bag over one shoulder. “I wouldn’t have to use my quirk on you, Katsuki, if I knew you wouldn’t blow up in my face.” He turned to Deku. He had such forlorn, intense eyes, that Deku could only stare into them for a second before glancing shyly away. “The name’s Hitoshi Shinso. Aizawa asked that I come and check on you. He suspected you might have gotten lost.” He said the last part with a meaningful glare at Bakugo.

“Ah, yeah. About that…”

“Come on. Let’s go before all the nice-looking sushi rolls are gone.”

“Um. O-okay.”

With one last nervous glance at the dazed Bakugo, Deku slipped from the room and followed after the other student.

“Um. I hate to ask. Is he going to be okay?”

Shinso hummed. “Bakugo’s never okay. But that’s beside the point. He’ll stay there for a few more seconds, at least until we get inside the elevator. The question is whether or not he’s going to do something to get us back for this. Knowing him?” The other boy shrugged. “He might forget about it. He’s surprised me before.”

Not Deku. To him, Bakugo was the same old bully from when they were little kids. No doubt he would plot his revenge.

Deku must have waited too long to reply, because Shinso turned to him and said, “So you’re the new transfer on special recommendation? There are a few more of those around here. Keep your eyes sharp.”

“A-and you’re one of them?” Deku asked. “That was an impressive quirk.”

Shinso hummed again, but Deku thought he heard smugness under that air of indifference. It seemed Deku may have found a weak spot.

“Unfortunately, no. My grades weren’t high enough for my school to recommend me. I knew Aizawa as a family acquaintance, but he refused to recommend me either.” He signed, pressing the button for the elevator. “Whatever. I got in, so I’m over it.”

Deku didn’t know what to say. He fidgeted with his backpack strap while they waited. The other boy watched his movements like a hawk. He reminded Deku of Aizawa in that way. A little too smart and perceptive for his own good.

“Did it scare you?”

“Huh?”

“My quirk.” The whole time Shinso spoke, his intense eyes remained fixed on Deku. “You seem a lot different than you were before. Did I scare you?”

“Oh – no, not at all!” Deku laughed nervously as he rushed to explain, “I get a little carried away sometimes when I use my quirk, that’s all. I’m really nice, I swear!”

“I see that.” An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Everyone in school has been wondering what you can do. I guess I got a front-row seat, huh?”

If only, Dragon grumbled sleepily.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Deku found it mildly amusing that the boy had yet to ask about the subject of their scuffle. Evidently, Bakugo picked fights with enough of the student body for it to not matter so much.

The elevator dinged open and both of them stepped inside. A cold sweat broke out over Deku’s neck as he watched the doors shut behind him.

“You okay?”

“Um, what?” Why was it so loud in here?

“You’ve gotten a lot paler all of a sudden. Don’t like elevators?”

“I, um.”

Deku blinked hard and pressed his hand to the wall, certain he would fall without it. The whole box shuddered as it began to descend. This fear was a new development. Every small space reminded him of the cage, but it wasn’t like he could avoid them around the League. He had lived in a broom closet for All Might’s sake. One that had a lock on the outside, making it its own kind of entrapment. But now, here, his body was having a visceral reaction to this little room. It seemed it only took a few nights in a big fancy bed to start feeling trapped. The boy standing with him was nice enough, but Deku didn’t know him – couldn’t trust him.

He pressed himself more to the wall. He tried to say something, to reassure the other boy that he was fine. He couldn’t. He choked up, and suddenly, he couldn’t breathe at all.

“Are you-”

The boy stepped forward but stopped when Deku flinched away. A frown knotted his forehead. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…Are you okay? Can you take a deep breath for me?”

No, Deku could not. His diaphragm was spasming from heaving in and out. He squeezed his eyes shut. He did try, but it was useless. The walls were beginning to close in on him.

“Give me a verbal response, and I can help you. Can you do that for me?”

Deku tried to suppress the trembling as he got out, “Y-y-y-yes…”

And then, in the blink of an eye, the pain and fear washed away. The sensation that replaced them was not what he would call pleasure. It was a blanket of numbness – a cast-off of the responsibilities of being a person. He stood there dumbly in the same way as Bakugo, eyes lost in the distance, mind blissfully blank and silent.

It was so peaceful.

“Take a deep breath.”

Deku did, and the air tasted sweet on his tongue. It filled his lungs with liquid life.

“A few more. There we go…”

Shinso ordered him to breathe each step until he was more calmed down. The taller boy walked him confidently out of the elevator when it opened like he had done this a thousand times before. He sat Deku down on a bench beside the nearest bathroom, and there he released his quirk.

“Sorry about that,” Shinso said. “I swear I wouldn’t have used it on you under normal circumstances.” He winced at his wording. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being claustrophobic. It happens to tons of people.”

“Hum?”

Deku wasn’t really paying attention. He was suddenly very, very tired, more tired than his body had allowed him to be in a long time. It took a real effort to keep his eyelids peeled open. “Oh. Ah, yeah. M’sorry.”

The frown had yet to leave Shinso’s forehead. “We should go to the nurse’s office. My quirk has this effect on people sometimes. Better for you to fall asleep there than with your face in a bunch of rice.”

Thankfully, the nurse’s office was on the same floor as the cafeteria. Shinso stayed close beside Deku, clearly concerned the smaller boy might fall over any second. Deku totted along in a numb haze. He felt as though the other boy’s power was still in effect. All five of his quirks were silent and still inside of him. It felt oddly…empty.

Shinso explained to the nurse an abridged version of what happened while Deku stared at the wall. The nurse was a tiny older woman, full of wisdom and understanding. At least, Deku hoped. She was the only nurse he could recall meeting since the time he was diagnosed as quirkless. He found he had no choice but to put his trust in her as she led him over to the bed and sat him down. She gave him a quick peck on the forehead, and just like that, he was out like a light.

 

--

 

“You didn’t need to stay.”

Deku woke blearily to the sound of his teacher’s monotone voice in the hallway outside. Rat took an immediate interest in the conversation.

Shinso replied, “I didn’t miss any classes. Nurse Shuzenji wouldn’t let me. Nothing besides half of lunch, don’t worry.” He sounded annoyed, though Deku suspected staying late and missing lunch wasn’t what annoyed him.

“That’s not what I meant. But thank you. For doing what I asked earlier and for staying. I appreciate your help.”

A hum in response. “Are you going to explain his deal or what?”

“Why don’t you tell me about what happened first, and I’ll be the judge of what you get to know.”

As though Aizawa knew anything to begin with.

“Tsk. Fine. I found him. We got into the elevator and he started freaking out. Had a panic attack, I think. It seemed like being in a small space caused it. I got his permission to use my quirk on him – or at least I think I did. I’m not sure if he knew what he was signing up for, but I wanted to help. Anyway, I got him to chill and we went to the nurse's office. He’s been sleeping ever since, as far as I know. Seemed tired even before it all started.”

It was nice of him to opt out the part about his fight. Aizawa unfortunately ruined it when the next thing he asked was, “What was he doing when you found him?”

“He and Katsuki were going at it. I don’t know. Ask him when he wakes up.”

“I suppose I’ll do that.”

“So what about my explanation?”

Deku could practically hear his teacher rubbing at his brow. “To be perfectly honest with you, Shinso, I have no idea. We don’t know much about him other than his father’s occupation. He just doesn’t seem all that…stable, to the staff here. His mood swings, the spaciness, and the fear of talking back are semi-normal, and claustrophobia in itself isn’t that strange, but all the things together? Something doesn’t add up.”

“That’s new,” Shinso said dryly. “The honesty. Doesn’t seem to me like you’re very good at it.”

“I’m very serious here. I told you when you asked for my recommendation that you’re still too rash and irresponsible. I have yet to see much of an improvement in your attitude since that time, even if you are an exemplary student. I don’t see your heart in this line of work for the right reasons. Heroes do more than fight the bad guys. Sometimes heroes have to help people do the small things after a wrong is already done. This kind of work is hard, and tedious, and thankless, but it’s important. This is a chance for you to show me you can do that. Do you understand?”

“I…Yeah. I guess. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I guess. It’s not your fault.”

“Well, maybe not. But what we do from now on is our responsibility. I’m putting my faith in you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“You should get home. Your parents will start to worry.”

“I wanted to apologize-”

“You can tomorrow,” Aizawa interjected. “I’m not going to wake him up today for you to do that. And besides, Oshiro doesn’t seem like the kind of person to hold a grudge.”

“No. I didn’t think so either.” Shinso sighed. “Alright. I’ll do it. But don’t expect me to be very good at this whole friendship thing.”

“I think you’re well on your way.”

Deku could hardly believe what he had just overheard. Aizawa had given away a treasure trove of information for his third eye to devour. At the least, he knew he was doing a bad job of keeping cover. The thing that stuck out to him the most, however, was the last part.

He had a friend.

A coerced one, but a friend all the same. Perhaps it was better that his teacher forced the relationship. Maybe then Shinso wouldn’t abandon him at the first sign of deceit. Maybe Shinso could accept all the different parts of Deku that Deku could never show him.

And maybe one day yen would rain from the sky.

Notes:

Merry merry to everyone!

Chapter 8: Deku tries school again

Aizawa didn’t mention anything about either incident on their way home. He seemed to understand that Deku wasn’t quite present, at the moment. He was too caught up in absorbing the day’s events. It was all too overwhelming. How was he supposed to do this every day without napping through half of it?

Hizashi insisted on him eating a large dinner full of shrimp and steamed vegetables. He ate much more of a portion than he expected of himself, though nothing was good enough for Hizashi besides the entire pan. The man was incensed that Deku had skipped lunch.

Afterward, Deku totted to bed without having said more than ten words to either husband. He fell asleep immediately. Of course, having slept all day, he woke up early in the night, perhaps even before midnight.

Angel wanted out.

With the night wind of the city brushing against his wings for the third time ever, it occurred to him that maybe he had already blown it. His third eye wasn’t picking up anything of Stain. Perhaps the hero killer already knew Angel was on to him, and had started going out at different times or changed his route. Angel was about to give up when he spotted something.

Eraserhead was out searching, too. Perhaps Stain had gone underground because he disliked the attention. Or maybe he was out hunting in another part of the city. Angel decided to turn around for the night, but not without a quick wave at his favorite nightlife hero.

Eraserhead chased after him a few blocks in a vain attempt to catch up. It was futile. Angel was like a rocket when he set his mind to it.

The next morning at breakfast was more or less at Deku’s lunchtime, he had stayed up so long. Aizawa watched his every tired movement with a keenness Deku was all-too aware of now. The hypocrite. As though he didn’t look just as dead on his feet.

His debrief to Shigaraki had been short but thorough. He didn’t think Angel would be much more help if Stain wasn’t visible from the sky in his area. He expected a text back immediately. Instead, he got nothing. Great. That meant Shigaraki wasn’t taking any of his shit.

“How did you sleep?”

Aizawa asked the question halfway through breakfast, breaking the dreary silence. Hizashi had already left to film some promotional thing for the school. Deku glanced up at his teacher and quickly glanced away. “I. Ah. I didn’t. I mean-” he jumped in when Aizawa’s frown deepened, “I did for a while. I think sleeping all day may have messed me up a bit. Sorry.”

“That’s not your fault. We should still talk about that.”

Deku set down his chopsticks and put his hands on his lap. “S-sure.”

“Shinso told me what happened in the elevator yesterday. I’d like to hear your side of the story.”

“Yeah. Sure. Um…”

“Take your time.”

“So, we went into the elevator.”

“Ah-huh.”

“And I kinda forgot that I…I mean it hasn’t been a problem before now, but I guess I forgot…”

“You forgot…?”

“I guess…I forgot I don’t like elevators.”

Aizawa stared at him. “You just happened to forget that you don’t like elevators. To the point you had a panic attack.”

“Ah. Yep.”

The teacher stared up at the ceiling, then down into his empty coffee mug, clearly wishing for it to magically refill itself. “All right. I’ll take your word for it. What about earlier, when Shinso discovered you? What were you doing arguing with Katsuki?”

Deku had put some thought into this during his hours souring over the city. He needed a good enough excuse on the off-chance Bakugo decided to tattle to the teachers about their past. He shrugged at Aizawa and picked at his food, as though it were nothing to think about.

“He recognized me? I don’t know. He said we used to go to primary school together. He got kind of upset when I didn’t know him. I mean, we grew up in separate parts of the country.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Aizawa watching him carefully. Crap. That whole thing had been mostly Rat talking, which meant he wasn’t stuttering. Aizawa was starting to pick up the patterns.

“But, ah,” Deku said, pushing Rat out of the way, “M-maybe we do know each other? I mean, I do forget things sometimes…”

A grunt of agreement was all the answer his teacher gave. Aizawa stayed quiet for a few more moments, probably giving Deku room to confess. When he stayed silent, Aizawa asked, “Are either of these incidents going to be a problem? U.A. has a lot of elevators. We rode them over the weekend and they didn’t seem to bother you.”

Not like I remember it all that much anyway.

“I can take the stairs?”

It turned into a question as he watched Aizawa raise an eyebrow. “You’re going to walk the stairs,” his teacher said flatly. “Every class period of every day.”

“I guess when-when you put it like that…”

“Listen, kid.” Aizawa rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Hizashi and I have noticed – no, the whole school management has noticed – that you need some serious counseling.”

“I don’t-”

Aizawa held up a hand. “Let me finish.”

“I…okay.”

“Thank you. As I said, you need counseling. Quirk counseling definitely, but we also think that talking with the U.A. counselor wouldn’t be a bad idea. You clearly aren’t sleeping very well. Whether that has to do with your quirk activating on its own or something else, you can bring that up to him. I won’t pry. But you do need to speak to someone.”

Deku’s quirk activating on its own was one way of framing things. He found himself slinking into his seat. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. This school counselor was likely a very nice person. At the end of the day, however, he was another person Deku would have to come up with lies to satisfy.

“Okay. If-if you think so.”

“I do. But you are allowed to argue with me, you know.”

Deku swallowed. That would probably never be true. “Yeah. O-okay.”

Aizawa gave in and went for coffee: round two.

 

--

 

There was a strange buzz in homeroom as Izuku and Aizawa entered together. His teacher had insisted on accompanying him on the elevator ride up. It wasn’t the most awkward situation he’d ever experienced, but close. Thankfully Rat decided to take the wheel, as Angel still had some serious issues with small spaces. Deku stood there blearily while Rat logically talked him through the ride. Aizawa’s voice filtered to him from somewhere, but he wasn’t listening. Nothing seemed to wake up his trance until they walked into homeroom and everyone went still.

“Settle down,” Aizawa said, as though they weren’t already dead silent.

Aizawa made his way to the front while Deku slunk to his seat, avoiding those blazing red eyes that followed his every step. Bakugo turned around to glare at him until the teacher cleared his throat to get their attention.

“As you know,” Aizawa began, “this upcoming Thursday is the mock battle training assignment. Yesterday I gave you your handouts detailing how everything will be done. Your preliminary costumes should be finished by tomorrow. Any questions?”

The serious boy from the front steps yesterday raised his hand.

“Yes, Ida?”

“Sir, I find it distasteful that some of us must embody villainy in this task. In such a prestigious academy as U.A., are we not required to uphold its honor to the utmost?”

“I commend your dedication to hero work. But your thinking is too uniform. You need to learn how a villain operates if you wish to stop them effectively.”

“I see. Thank you for clarification, sir.”

With that, Ida sat back down.

“Anyone else? No? Very well. Do whatever you want until first period. I’m taking a nap.”

Then Aizawa pulled out his yellow sleeping bag from nowhere and proceeded to cocoon himself inside. Deku envied him the ability to sleep anywhere at the slightest opportunity.

Quiet reigned over the class for a few moments after their teacher fully went to sleep on the floor. Apparently this was something everyone still needed to get used to. A buzz started up in the room, classmates talking to each other about random stuff or their strategies for the upcoming assignment. Deku didn’t care so much about that. He would deal with the task when the time arrived.

“I must sincerely apologize for my behavior!”

Duku blinked up at the tall boy suddenly standing like a pole beside his desk. “Um. Hello?”

Ida bowed so low his head passed below the line of Deku’s shoulders. “I neglected to introduce myself yesterday. I had other matters on my mind, and I suppose you seemed overwhelmed by the enormity of our prestigious academy. But I shall not wait another day! My name is Tenya Ida. It is an honor to know our newest student here on special recommendation.”

“Oh. Ah…Thank you?”

“You are most welcome. And your name is Oshiro?”

“Um, yeah. But you can call me Kozue. I don’t mind.”

“Then I shall insist on you calling me Tenya! I am sure we shall soon become friends in our similar struggles to herodom!”

“Yeah. I think so too.” Deku actually smiled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled. The serious boy had turned out a lot more sincere than he imagined.

He caught Bakugo watching them. The blond scowled and turned back to his empty desk. Tenya noticed as well. He frowned. In addition to Bakugo, a gaggle of curious teens had formed around them. They peeked over Ida’s shoulder to glance at Deku with barely disguised curiosity, as though he were an exhibit at the zoo.

Tenya cleared his throat. “Kaminari. Kirishima. Uraraka. Would you like to introduce yourselves to our newest hero-in-training?”

While the two spiky-haired boys laughed and scratched their heads in embarrassment, the girl stepped forward confidently and held her hand out to Deku.

“A pleasure to meet you! I’m Ochaco Uraraka, at your service!”

“T-thanks,” Deku said, accepting the handshake. “I appreciate the-the confidence.”

“So, your name’s Deku, right?”

Deku jolted in his seat. “I, ah…”

His eyes shot over to Bakugo, who gave him a smug look.

“No,” he said firmly, glaring back at Bakugo. A bit of Dragon leaked out of his voice against his will. “That is definitely not my name. I’m Kozue Oshiro.”

“Oh,” Ochaco said, glancing in confusion between Deku and Bakugo. “Okay then.”

The two boys likewise stepped forward and introduced themselves. All of the new students were quite friendly. The conversation quickly strayed to their quirks. Tenya showed off his engine legs, and Ochaco lifted a pencil to the ceiling. Eijiro had hardened skin like stone, and Denki explained his powers of electricity, though he thankfully didn’t give a demonstration.

At the unspoken request on his turn, Deku said, “Well, my quirk…It’s…”

Everyone within earshot leaned closer just the tiniest bit.

“I can transform, sort of like an animal quirk. But-but only a small amount of my body, and only a short time. Like this,” he showed off Dragon’s claws, “or this,” Rat’s enlarged ear, “or,” and finally, he pulled up his lip to reveal the Hound’s dramatic canines. Perhaps it was a bad idea to reveal so many of his secrets, but they seemed trivial in the total scope of things. Besides, these were his peers. He needed to impress them, right?

Ochaco clapped her hands. “How neat! I bet that’s super useful in a bunch of situations.”

“I guess so. Yeah.”

“And what is its name?” asked Tenya.

Deku paused, glancing around at the curious stares of his classmates. He had never thought his quirk (quirks) needed a name. He bit his lip as he thought about it. Finally, he said, “I guess it’s called Manifold.”

The rest of the day went similarly; now that the ice was broken, the other students were more than willing to walk with him to their other classes. Shinso joined them as well, though he kept his distance, and no one seemed certain how to bring him into the group, least of all Deku. Many of the students were eager to tell him about everything he missed in his week (and a day) away from school. It didn’t seem like anything major happened – just a few hand-to-hand sparring matches and a lecture about ethics from All Might (holy crap All Might was his teacher now?!). He went along with the other students as best he could, copying whatever they did. He saw Aizawa and Bakugo eyeing him on occasion throughout the day. That was fine. This was fine.

Everything was perfectly fine.

Chapter 9: Deku gets a new assignment

Summary:

Holidays madness am I right or am I even more right???? I'm just glad its over now, until next year....

"These are meant to determine your quirk’s aptitude in certain areas of physical fitness,” Aizawa said in a bored voice, holding up a clipboard. “Everyone was required to do them last week. There are no tricks to these tests or anything like that. Just do your best, alright? You don’t have to be nervous.”

“R-right.”

Deku wished people would stop telling him that. It was easy enough for his teacher to say – he wasn’t the one being tested.

“Very well. Go ahead and line up at the long jump.”

Deku did, feeling like a huge weight was pressing down on his shoulders. The other students were sparring in groups of two a short way off. Aizawa was watching them alongside helping Deku, making sure they didn’t stop to ogle the new kid for too long.

The first few tests went by without incident. Deku used whatever small transformation he needed at the moment to get the highest number he possibly could on each test. If he did well, Aizawa kept that to himself, his gaze always flinty as he examined his clipboard. Deku did the long jump with the help of the Hound. That, along with the sprint, which he cleared in 4.9 seconds. Dragon was useful on the grip strength, though that was still likely their weakest stat. Deku’s quirks were all more suited for dexterity and strategy than pure strength.

When they got to the ball throw, Deku had a hard time deciding who to let take over for this. He immediately went to Dragon, but decided against it. Dragon, against what one might think, was not the most physically strong of their group. The title of the strongest throwing arm went to Angel.

For some reason, Angel decided to bow to Aizawa before stepping up to the plate, making the teacher raise an eyebrow. Whatever. If that was how Angel decided to act out this time, Deku could live with it.

Angel rolled his neck and shoulders, then wound up the ball: once, twice, three times, and then sent it flying. Smoke trailed from the ball as it soared through the sky. Deku hoped no one else would recognize the smoke for Angel’s tendency to heat things up.

The device in Aizawa’s hand beeped. “Six hundred and fifty-one meters,” he said.

Deku didn’t know what that meant. But the students all had to be ordered back to their regular sparring, so he took it to mean he had done good. He gave his teacher a smug look. Aizawa’s clipboard lowered as he stared openly at Deku’s expression.

Deku couldn’t help it. For the first time in a long, long while, he felt proud of something he’d accomplished.

Well, Angel had done it. But still.

He assumed the rest of the tests went well. In all truth, he didn’t quite remember them, the day proceeding in a vibrant haze of colors and motion. Each of his inner personas juggled themselves around depending on who knew best about the task at hand or the conversation one of his peers had engaged him in. It went so well that Aizawa commented on his good mood on the way home from school.

“Hum?”

Reality sharpened. Deku realized he had been staring dreamily out the car window. He sat up straighter, feeling the world settle around his shoulders like a damp blanket. Voices buzzed at the far back of his mind, his quirks satisfied for the time being. Sometimes it was nice not being present in his body for a while.

His teacher paused, waiting to turn at a light. “I said, you seemed more relaxed today. What happened? Did you make any friends?”

With how closely the man had watched Deku the last two days, one would assume he already knew. Whatever. Deku was used to adults forcing him to spell out the obvious.

“I think so. I-I mean I hope so. I hope they like me, and aren’t just trying to be polite…”

His teacher snorted. “That’s how friendships start, kid. I don’t think everyone would be so accommodating if they didn’t like you.”

“You think so?”

“I know for a fact.”

“Oh. That’s…that’s nice.” He looked down at where he fumbled with his hands. Did Aizawa really mean that? How would he know for sure?

He tried not to dwell on those thoughts. He was having a good day.

They ate ramen that night. The good kind, where even the noodles are made by hand. It had real seaweed and bamboo shoots and pork. Deku had never tasted anything like it in his life. Growing up in that cage, a warm cup of instant ramen was like a salty blessing from heaven. It didn’t matter then that the broth had no thickness or real ingredients. Sitting here now with two grown-ups who had no intention of “training” him for whatever reason (besides the whole hero thing), with a warm bed waiting for him and a huge bowl of delicious food, the reality of where he sat started to dawn on him.

And that reality…it was too much.

“Kid?”

Deku didn’t realize he was crying until the tears started patting into his ramen. He looked down at his bowl in horror, as though he ruined it, then up to Aizawa’s concerned expression. The tears kept flowing. He couldn’t do anything besides stare at his teacher, not even wipe them away.

“Kid, what’s wrong?” the man started to sound alarmed. Now Hizashi had looked up from his phone to see about the commotion.

Was something wrong? He was having a good day. It was a good day.

Deku raised a hand to clear his blurring vision, but all he could do was clutch it over his mouth as he tried to hold back the sobs. He stared down at his food in misery. He wanted to eat it, if only he could stop crying like a baby.

He flinched as a hand rested on his shoulder. Aizawa had walked over to kneel next to his chair. “Whatever’s it is,” he said in such a calm and controlled voice that Deku’s breathing hitched, “it’s going to be okay. Take a deep breath. In, and out. There you go. Try again.”

His teacher’s presence only seemed to make things worse. He felt himself buckle under the weight of that hand, and suddenly he was sobbing uncontrollably, desperate to keep the noise down but unable to stop the animal keen that bled out of him. Aizawa pulled him close, rubbing at his back and the top of his arm as the fit raged through him, saying things that Deku wouldn’t have been able to hear if he wanted to. Hizashi was uncharacteristically quiet through the whole thing, occasionally sending out a text on his phone, but mostly just waiting in concern.

Finally, what must have been a long time later, Deku managed to take a deep breath and said, stuttering, “I just- I-I wanted to eat it.” He sniffles, then blows his nose on the napkin that Hizashi hands to him. Neither adult seemed to know what to say to that.

“Kid,” Aizawa begins carefully, “the food’s right there. No one’s going to take it from you. We can warm it up if you want.”

“No!” Deku said a little too hastily. He couldn’t bear the thought of letting the soup out of his sight, not even for a second. He willed his trembling hands still enough to pick up his chopsticks and gave the two adults a watery smile. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll finish.”

Aizawa returned to his seat, a deep frown etched on his face. The two husbands exchanged a look. Hizashi smiled and said, “Nothing to apologize for, little listener!”

Deku didn’t believe him.

 

--

 

That night, Shigaraki finally texted back. He ignored Deku’s previous text about Stain.

New assignment. Meet at needle.

Deku flipped his phone shut with a snap and sighed. At least he was done wasting his time on the hero killer. The “needle” was a long-agreed-on meeting spot for him to give reports and receive assignments. It was on an office skyscraper under League control, which meant Angel was required to reach it.

I am the most useful of everyone, after all.

Deku had to hold back a second sigh in as many minutes. It was going to be a long night.

The windy chill of the night bounced right off Angel’s thick skin as he soared above Tokyo. This high up, the city was practically a patchwork of sparkly lights twinkling against the ocean. The white cap of Mount Fuji rose from the dark in the far distance. Deku had never been this high up before.

Angel let out a caw of excitement as he angled downward and started to plummet. He aimed for the business district, and the pointed buildings advanced so quickly that they looked ready to spear him. His third eye picked out their destination without him ever having been there before. He came in too fast and had to circle the building a few times, gaining altitude once more. He spotted a flash of movement at the very top, next to the base of the lightning rod. Angel pulled up his wings in a few heavy, halting flaps before he dropped stumbling to his feet.

“Still as clumsy as ever, I see.”

The feathers along Angel’s back raised in alarm. At the least, it wasn’t Shigaraki meeting him, as Deku feared.

Dabi stepped out of the shadows, scarred arms crossed over his chest. He scowled. “Shed the wings, fluffy.”

Angel bristled. “I am not fluffy!” he said indignantly. “I am the most important of everyone you could talk to in his tiny space of a cranium!”

“The most obnoxious one, too. You heard what I said. This conversation’s for Deku, not you.”

Angel was not one to give up so easily. He puffed up his chest despite the two of them being nowhere near the same height. “You know these transformations are hard on his body. It would not be wise to turn now only to again later-”

“Boring!” Dabi said, raising his hands above his head in a stretch. “You think this ain’t the real world? Give me a break. You give me Deku now, or I’m walking away and you can explain to the boss why you didn’t get your shit done.”

That was enough to make Angel deflate. Steam began to rise from his body as his feathers burned away. Deku’s body shrank further, his bones becoming dense and heavy. He gagged and clutched his chest as his lungs moved and merged again. He tried to stay on his feet, but as soon as his toes popped out of their sockets, he collapsed onto his side, wheezing.

“So fucking dramatic,” Dabi said, rolling his eyes. He kicked at Deku’s back. Lightly, but enough to send a shock of pain throughout his throbbing skeleton. “Get up. We need to talk.”

Shaking, Deku somehow managed to get back onto his feet. He clutched his arms around his bare chest and shivered violently against the wind so high up, Angel's heat no longer keeping him warm. He didn’t even have shoes.

Dabi grinned – all teeth. His breath steamed like a hot spring in the air.

Dabi liked to make other people suffer. Dabi liked it when people felt some fraction of the pain he went through every day.

This was fine. This was much preferable to whatever Toga or, gods help him, Shigaraki could come up with to torment their favorite pet.

The older boy leaned against a pole and examined his blackened nails. “Shigaraki wants a full report. And I’ll know if you skimp on details. Living with those heroes, that nifty third eye of yours has had to pick up something interesting.”

Deku would have gladly given him everything. The problem was that there wasn’t that much to give. “O-okay, I mean…well, I saw…”

“Any day now.”

“I, um,” Deku swallowed down his fear, and this time, Rat stepped forward to fill in the blanks. “Here’s what I know.”

Rat meticulously recounted the inner lives of the heroes and the layout of the school. He spared no detail, not even the color of Aizawa’s kitchen (pale yellow – not quite the color of his sleeping bag but close enough). All the while, Dabi listened, tapping his foot. He pulled out a cigarette at some point and whittled down the red ember to almost nothing. He stayed silent so well, that Deku thought he was simply absorbing the information. In the end, however, he dropped his cigarette to the ground.

Rat fell silent.

“Shouldn’t have expected much from you on this mission.”

“I can get more!” Deku rushed to jump in. “It’s only been a few days. I-I need more time, I just-”

“Shut up.”

Deku did, almost biting through his tongue. The taste of iron seeped into his mouth. The Hound pounded at his temples, urging him to run, to fight back, anything.

Dabi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again to glare at Deku. I wasn’t a personal sort of glare. Not the “I hate your deepest guts,” kind, but the “I wouldn’t care about you but I hate you because you make my life more complicated,” kind. That was somehow worse.

“My opinion? You should be retired before you make a mistake that brings us all down. The boss already has another project brewing up. But my opinion on this doesn’t seem to sway a lot of heads. We’re keeping you in UA. For now. You have a new mission, effective this Friday. You’re going to use one of those graciously-given quirks to get us intel. Actually useful intel. Do you understand?”

Deku swallowed the boulder in his throat, no energy left to shiver. He nodded. His voice croaked as he said, “Yeah. I do.”

Chapter 10: Nightmare reminds everyone it’s here, too

Notes:

Internet has been out at my house, sorry my dudes. Here are TWO chapters for you!

School is starting soon and I'm not sure how busy I'll be, so updates will slow down for a bit. But have no fear! This is still my insomnia project for the win

Deku fiddled with the pencil in his lap. He didn’t know how or why he picked it up. “This really isn’t necessary.”

The man sitting across from Deku with a raccoon quirk perked up his ears, peering at Deku over his half-moon spectacles. It was the first thing Deku had said without being asked a direct question.

There were a lot of animal quirks within the staff at UA. Deku liked that. He had a lot of animal quirks, too. UA must have a good reputation for non-discrimination within the governance, or so many of them wouldn’t be comfortable working here. He had a feeling the principal was a large contributor to the atmosphere.

“And why do you say that?”

And here started the questioning. This man was only a quirk counselor, but a counselor all the same. Deku tried not to snap his pencil in frustration.

“I don’t, um.”

He shifted his weight – winced as the burns on his back brushed against the chair. Transforming into Angel a second time to get back to Aizawa’s house had taken its toll. It caused more side effects the more he overdid things. He could summon the Nightmare to fix it, of course, but then Deku would lose the whole day to that awful, sticky blackness. He couldn’t afford to blow his cover so flippantly.

He waited too long to answer. The counselor cleared his throat and said, “Your teacher has concerns about your quirk activating on its own. I have all of the information about it here. He says you react strongly to powerful smells or other stimulation. Can you say this has been your experience?”

“Well, yeah. I guess…”

“Tell me then. Does your quirk ‘turn off,’ as many kids describe it, or does it stay activated?”

The man was so earnest with his question. It had to be a joke, right? People with animal quirks never “turned off” their powers. He had no choice but to keep his transformation quirk activated constantly or risk transforming into all of his personalities at once – not a very pleasant experience. That was the reason Sensei kept him locked up for so long. To learn control.

“I…” Deku didn’t know what to say. He felt trapped. Would these people lock him up too if they found out anything?

The raccoon man across from him smiled kindly. “It’s no problem if you’re unsure. Lots of people have no idea that they might be activating their quirk, as they don’t know what it feels like otherwise. Would you say you have a heightened sense of smell all the time, or only when food is involved?”

“Food is, ah, food makes it worse. I think. Um…” The pencil’s integrity began to creak. “It’s active all the time. I can’t turn it off.”

He winced after he realized what he’d just admitted. It was a huge, glaring weakness. A red target taped to his back.

The counselor’s smile wavered a little. Then it was back and brighter than ever. “Excellent. Thank you for telling me. Now, I would like to get down to the personality of your quirk.”

Deku’s chest seized up tight. Then pencil in his hands finally snapped. “P-personality?” he said – almost whispered.

The counselor eyed his broken pencil but otherwise didn’t mention it. “Sorry, I might have worded that strangely. A lot of people have a quirk that is somewhat rebellious, more or less. Some might be hard to control, while others are fully sentient-”

“Mine’s not,” Deku said. No, it must have been Rat. It was too calm and collected. “Sentient, I mean. Though I admit it can be hard to reign in sometimes.”

He was telling the truth, mostly. None of his quirks were sentient that he knew. They were all just…him.

The counselor looked troubled, his tan eyebrows drawing down. But he said easily, “Are there certain times when you have trouble controlling your quirk? Around food only, or are there other situations?”

The school wants to know if we’re dangerous, Rat cautioned. Aloud, he said, “I don’t have much of an instinct to attack,” (excluding Dragon), “if that’s what you want to know. Just food and maybe chasing a ball or something.”

He said the last part as a joke. Except Rat forgot he was bad at jokes. Nobody laughed.

“I see.” The raccoon man stared down at his paperwork. He was very thin for having an animal quirk. He looked like a stick apart from the fluffy cone of his face. The fur helped to hide the wrinkles of age.

Deku’s head throbbed, and he started to shiver. The Nightmare’s touch always made him cold.

The session went on for a little while longer, though Deku didn’t pay much attention to it. He trusted Rat to keep their secrets safe and drifted into his head. The counselor gave him some exercises to help keep his quirk under control (ha!) and sent him on this way, promising he could come back anytime if he needed anything.

Deku let out a long breath as the office door closed behind him. No way would he ever go back.

Hizashi stood up from the waiting room chair and stretched. He had been the one to take Deku to counseling while Aizawa ran homeroom. “Ready for English, little listener?” he greeted warmly.

Strangely enough, Deku was.

 

--

 

“Listen up, everyone!”

As though the class had much of a choice. All Might’s voice was so voluminous that it vibrated the pavement under their feet. A voice quirk? No, that couldn’t be it. All Might had a single, generalized amplification quirk. That was Deku’s running guess at the moment. Of course, he only had one quirk. Normal people had a single quirk. Deku was the freak here, he reminded himself.

All Might went on to explain their mock fighting assignment, all the while in dramatic pose. Everyone from class A-1 stood fidgeting with the fabric of their new costumes. Deku wore the school’s tactical suit, which consisted of a padded leather jacket and pants and a helmet with a large visor. He had put in a rushed sketch yesterday but it was far too soon to have finished anything. Deku could hardly remember what it looked like now. He was sure Angel made it, so it had probably taken a lot of inspiration from the big guy himself.  

Ida asked a handful of questions before they matched partners, as expected. Ochaco was Deku's partner – a nice surprise. She would have been his second choice next to Shinso. He’d expected to end up with Bakugo, by how his luck had gone recently.

He had spoken too soon. When All Might showed the letters for the first two teams to compete, Deku felt his body go hot and then cold all over. He thought the icy-hot boy was standing next to him, but no. Only Bakugo paid him any attention, glaring with icy rage around the back of the group. As the students who wouldn’t be participating in the first round started to trickle away, the rush in Deku’s ears blotted out his partner’s next words.

“What?” he asked, frowning, still staring at Bakugo in concern.

“What’s the plan, partner?” Ochaco asked, grinning innocently.

Deku forced his gaze away from Bakugo’s glare and turned to her. He felt suddenly small and stupid. It would bring this great student down being placed with him and Bakugo, of all people. Their rivalry would surely get in the way of her potential.

He scratched his shoulder, wishing he could reach the prickling skin on his back. “I don’t know, um…”

Ochaco didn’t falter for a second. She punched his shoulder playfully and said, “That’s okay! Neither do I. But that’s cool sometimes, ya know? Some people think better on their feet. Come on then – we’ll just have to decide as we go along.” She pulled him toward the building where their battle would take place.  

Both groups paused before the door so All Might could further explain their tactics. “It is vital to embody the minds of villainy in this task,” he said to Bakugo and Ida. “Remember that as you plan your strategy. Don’t hurt anyone, but don’t be afraid to make underhanded moves to achieve your goal.”

Bakugo raised a critical eyebrow in Deku’s direction. Was he implying he knew today’s future, or did the boy know something more, something about Deku specifically? Out of everyone, Bakugo had the most reason to smell fish in the air.

ḱ̵͙̲̔̔̀̐̅̒̐̅̉̒͌́̈́͘i̶͔̼͓͆̒̉̂̃̅̇̈́̆͌̔̏͂͘ļ̷̛̜͔̞̯͇̳̜̣͍͌̿͛̉͑͘ļ̸̢̥̣̦̞̪̫̦͈͍̬̲̩̊͂̈́̎̒̊̉̐͆͒͛̈̓͋ͅ ̴̹̾̈ḥ̴̣̭͚͓̻̱̹̯̱̰̎̌͑i̵̢̢̢̹͖̘̟͓̜̪͎͒̌̽͊͌̊́m̶̨̛̟̙͈̹͚͈̘̜̙̞̉͌̓͒̇̚͝͝ͅ

Deku froze, suddenly, utterly terrified. That was the first time he heard that one’s voice. The shadow. The creep against his inner ear was like the slow slime of a snail, lingering wherever it touched. Deku squashed the slimy thing down with all of his might. He stood shaking and trembling, wondering where and how he got there.

Had it been a part of himself that spoke? How could he think anything so terrible?

“Oshiro?” Ochaco asked. “Oshiro, are you alright?”

Deku struggled to swallow with a very dry throat. “Wah?” he asked.

Ochaco was leaning toward him in concern, a strange smile-frown on the face of All Might hovering behind her. Bakugo and Ida were already in the building.

“You were staring off into space,” Ochaco said worriedly. “Your skin went pale all of a sudden.”

“I um,” he swallowed again when his voice broke, took a step back. “N-nothing. It’s nothing. I’m just nervous, is all! I just got to know you guys and already we have to fight.”

“That’s perfectly natural!” All Might said in that booming voice that always made Deku wince. The hero’s smile grew bright as the sun once more, the man having found solid ground for which he could lecture. “There are many times when the villains we fight do not appear to us as ‘bad guys’ despite their villainous behavior! We might even think they’re cool or admire their quirks. Still, it is important to uphold the law no matter how you might perceive those you fight. This will be good practice for you.”

All Might had no idea how close to the mark he landed.

“R-right. Thank you, sir.”

Deku refused to look at either of their concerned faces, but his third eye saw enough. They didn’t believe him. Behind All Might’s glaring smile, there was something shifty lurking there. A secret. Did he know something about Deku? About the man Deku was connected to by fate?

“Very well then. Your time starts now!”

“Oh- ah-!”

“Come on!” Ochaco said giddily, dragging Deku by his arm into the building. “This is going to be fun!”

Maybe for one of their company. That person certainly wasn’t Deku.

Chapter 11: Dragon gets his due

The two partners hunkered down in the middle of the building to make a plan. They didn’t get much decided except to split up if found and both go after the weapon. It was a shoddy plan, but better than nothing.

The cement halls echoed with their footsteps as they slunk through the bowels of the building. It suddenly seemed a bad idea to talk, so they communicated through hand gestures. Deku decided he was more useful without the helmet and took it off. He allowed Rat’s rounded ears to spring up on the sides of his head. Ochaco made a sound of delight and mimed petting his ears, making them twitch in annoyance. Rat was not cute.

He wasn’t.

Using Rat’s advanced hearing, Deku was able to pinpoint where they were going. He stopped, holding up a hand for Ochaco to do the same. They waited with bated breath as Deku strained his ears, listening.

Footsteps. Slow and quiet but steady as they advanced toward them. Someone was trying to sneak up on them, but that person didn’t know their location. Deku motioned to Ochaco that someone was walking down the next hall, and she nodded her understanding. They began to retreat the way they had come. Before they could round the corner into safety, however, the voice of Bakugo rang through the building.

“Where are you, Deku!”

They both stopped, just in time for an angry, spiky-haired blond to step into sight at the end of the hall. Crap. They were spotted.

“Get over here, you little punk! You have some explaining to do!”

Deku pushed Ochaco down the next hall. “Run!” he said, “Get to the weapon!” and she listened.

He intended to do the same, but something kept his feet rooted in their spot. Bakugo took his time as he advanced, his arms swinging heavily at his sides. He didn’t seem to think Deku would run either.

“Nice ears,” Bakugo commented snidely. “Makes for a neat party trick.”

Deku brought his hands to the sides of his head, wiping away the larger ears and replacing them with his normal ones. “What do you want, Bakugo?”

“I told you, didn’t I?” The larger boy stopped a few meters away, feet apart, pointing an accusing finger at Deku. “Explain yourself!” He had a kind of grenade-looking accessory on his arms, which Deku guessed helped to amplify his explosions.

“Explain what?” Deku demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Already, he was tired of this. He had bigger problems to worry about than childish grudges.

Bakugo growled low in his chest as he breathed, teeth gritted. “Where did you go? How did you get that freaky quirk? You were quirkless.”

“Whatever your issues with this Deku kid, it sounds like you need the help, not him. Got a problem with quirkless people, do you?”

Bakugo threw his arm out to the side and a tiny explosion snapped in his palms. A flash to bring the attention back to what he wanted to say. “Cut that acting crap, I’m not fucking stupid. Leaving for six years and then showing up at UA, the school I was going to attend! And then you pretend you don’t remember me, you piece of shit!”

“Is there another time and place you can rehash your childhood trauma?” Deku snapped impatiently. Dragon had slunk up from the depths without him having noticed. Deku should be more vigilant. Bakugo had an innate talent for bringing the lizard to the surface. “We’ve been over this, dude. The name’s Kozue Oshiro.”

“Ha!” Bakugo laughed, loud and exaggerated. He actually smiled. “You think I won’t tell? Fuck you then, Izu-”

Dargon heard the name begin to fall from Bakugo’s sneering lips, and he lunged. No one was allowed to say that name. Not anymore.

By the look of pure shock on Bakugo’s face, he hadn’t expected such a fast retaliation. He brought his arms up to protect against Deku’s strike. Twin explosions popped in his hands to try and throw off his attacker. Dragon fully expected the fireworks and plowed right through, running full force into the larger boy and throwing them both to the ground. They separated as they tumbled and rolled.

Dragon sprung first to his feet. He advanced at Bakugo still on the ground, jagged teeth bared in a fierce snarl. Bakugo held up his hand, aiming to fire. “Shit!” the larger boy cursed as he spotted the liquid dripping from the side of his grenade-looking accessory. Dargon had made sure to slash them when the two collided.

“Izu-!” the boy tried again, but Dragon refused to let him finish. He lunged forward once more just as Bakugo pulled the string on his weapon.

BOOM!

The explosion was aimed at Deku’s feet, but it was obviously far more intense than intended. Bakugo’s arm jerked and the explosion traveled higher. There was a blinding flash of light and heat.

Nothing could stop Dragon’s fury. His tougher skin had already numbed some of the damage. He ignored the pain and the blindness and the far-off screaming of someone over a loudspeaker. Touch and instinct told him where he could find his opponent, who was still reeling on the floor from the botched explosion. Dragon knocked the clumsy arms aside and snapped out the capture tape, wrapping it around Bakugo’s bicep. Then he grabbed Bakugo by the front of his shirt and shook the other boy so hard he felt his teeth clack together.

“Enough!” Dargon howled. He could barely hear his voice over the ringing in his ears. “Stop tormenting me and mind your own damn business! I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you!”

And then he brought Bakugo closer, the boy still sputtering and coughing from the fumes of his explosion. Quiet, so that no one other than Bakugo could hear, Dragon whispered into his ear, “Izuku Midoriya is dead. He died six years ago, and you’re the one who killed him. I know you ratted him out. How about I tell everyone that, huh?”

Bakugo heard him. He felt the larger boy go still in his grasp. He dropped Bakugo back to the ground and stood. He swayed, thrown off by his lack of senses. The bright spots in his vision refused to go away, no matter how much he blinked. Oh well. He would have to win this exercise without his eyes.

His hearing wasn’t much better and fumes were stuck in his nose. He snorted and coughed to clear his airway. “I can’t hear you!” he called in the general direction of the loudspeaker, sensing it buzzing in the background. “I’m fine – I can keep going!”

And so he did, using the walls to guide him. He stumbled as fast as he could down the hall to where he could find the staircase. Sure enough, he tripped over the first step and quickly began to ascend.

Another announcement over the loudspeaker. That one sounded like a countdown. Two minutes left? Sixty seconds? Deku ran faster, his tiny frame heaving in great gulps of air. He reached a brightly lit room at the top of the staircase and came stumbling to a stop. There were voices here too. Ida’s and Ochaco’s. he didn’t think either of them had yet to notice him, so he slunk back into the shadows.

Ida had the weapon in hand and was running around with it, evading Ochaco easily. Without being able to touch him, her power was useless. Deku could hear the tired frustration in the pitch of her voice and Ida’s clear elation. The boy thought he had already won.

Deku would see about that.

He waited until he felt the slightest shift in the air. Then he jumped forward, trusting Dragon’s instincts to guide him. He kicked out his leg, catching Ida’s mid-stride as the boy sped past. At the same moment, he yelled out, “Now, Ochaco!”

Ida collided with his leg with the force of a truck. Deku was tossed to the side as Ida went tumbling forward, the weapon thrown into the air. Everything was a jumble of sound and motion. When the whole world stopped spinning around him, Deku could just make out the sound of Ida screaming “That’s not fair! I didn’t know she could make herself float!”

“Hero Team Wins!”

At least, Deku hoped that’s what was yelled over the loudspeaker. He slowly got to his feet, swaying, still trying and failing to blink away the flashes in his vision. There was a thud as Ochaco released her quirk and fell back to the ground with the weapon. Her voice came closer, and Deku almost fell as she clapped him on the shoulder.

His instincts wanted to lash out. He couldn’t hear or see, and that gave everyone around him power. He hated it. He wanted to find a tiny space in the wall and be forgotten.

Ochoco said his name, not for the first time, but this was tinged with concern. Deku pointed to his face and said, “Got blasted by Bakugo, sorry.”

His own words were mumbles in his ear, but Ochoco seemed to understand. She guided him by the arm out of the room and down the stairs, chatting amicably with Ida, who followed behind them, still whining about his loss. They paused to get Bakugo but couldn’t find him – only the capture tape lay discarded along the ground. The other villain had already left the building.

They got to the nurse’s office and Recovery Girl cooed over the various burns on Deku’s face. She kissed his forehead again like the last time, and the drain in his energy was immediate. He swayed as he finally blinked away the light from his eyes. The sting of his skin washed over with coolness, and his ears popped. He rubbed his eyes, then looked up to find a large number of faces staring down at him.

Ochaco was sitting next to him on the bed in concern. Deku was surprised to find Ida in the room as well, in addition to Aizawa, the teacher leaning against the back wall. The nurse retreated to the other bed, which was currently occupied by a scowling Bakugo, clearly mad to be there. All of them were staring at Deku with various colors of emotion.

“Uh…” he began, not sure what to say. “Did we win?”

Ochaco smiled big. “Hell yeah, we did! All thanks to you and your quick moves!”

Aizawa sighed dramatically. “He won because he was extremely reckless. Iida and Uraraka, you can return to the class now that you know everyone’s safe and whole. I need to talk with Oshiro and Bakugo alone.”

Deku gulped. He couldn’t help but stare at the floor, only nodding in response as Ida and Ochaco once more congratulated him and then departed. The nurse left behind them, going back to her standby position so the next hero vs villain bout could take place.

Aizawa stood and stared at them for a long minute. Then he declared, “Who wants to start telling me the problem between you two?”

Deku risked a quick glance to the side. Bakugo glared at him as usual, but there was a different sort of gleam in his eyes now. Caution, maybe. Or resentment. The larger boy chewed on his lip, contemplating what to say. Deku gave the tiniest shake of his head.

“…Nothing,” Bakugo finally muttered.

Aizawa leaned forward. “What did you say?”

“I said ‘nothing,’” Bakugo ground out, louder this time. “I had an issue a long time ago with some kid who looked like him, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.”

Aizawa’s eyebrows drew together in a disbelieving frown. “And you’re just coming to this conclusion? Why?”

Bakugo scowled. “I don’t know. I’m an idiot. Is that what you want me to say?”

“No, I do not. I don’t think you’re an idiot, Bakugo. That’s why this entire situation concerns me.”

No one responded, and so Aizawa released another sigh and rubbed at the skin between his eyes. “Both of you acted extremely recklessly today in your fight. All Might and I considered disqualifying you for that reason. Bakugo, you are not allowed to use your quirk directly at anyone, unless explicitly in a life-or-death situation. You have to be more creative than that or you’ll never be a hero. Do you understand?”

The boy nodded sullenly.

“And Oshiro. You cannot run at someone without caution, especially if you know they have such a powerful quirk. You risked injury twice without any regard for your safety. Had this been a real fight, you would be dead. You can’t save people when you’re dead.”

He spoke facts. Deku nodded along as well, doing his part to look repentant. All the while he pushed the lecture straight to Dragon’s grumbling side of his brain.

“Very well. If no one wants to tell me the truth, then I suppose you can go. Watch the rest of the bouts and try to learn something.”

The boys slipped from their beds and stood. Deku exited behind Bakugo, who practically ran out of the room. It seemed Dragon had solved Deku’s problem. How long that would last was up to Bakugo. One tiny conversation with any of the staff here and Deku’s cover was blown.

And once Deku was no longer useful, he would be disposed of. Put down like a dog. Sensei wouldn’t think twice about it.

Chapter 12: Rat is too good at his job

“Oshiro.”

Deku blinked. He was sitting at his desk, wearing his regular school uniform. Someone was shaking him by the arm. He looked to the side, where Shinso stood over him. “Oshiro, homeroom’s over. We’re leaving now.”

Homeroom? But hadn’t he just been at the nurse’s office?

“What happened?” he asked, frowning and rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, I think I fell asleep.”

“You’ve been staring at Aizawa the whole time,” Hitoshi said. “You weren’t asleep.”

Aizawa was at the front of the class, talking with Ida, Ochaco, and a few of the other students. Everyone else had departed. Only Hitoshi was hovering around Deku’s chair, wondering why he had yet to get up, probably.

He waved off the other boy’s concern. “It’s fine. I just spaced out a little bit there.”

More like a lot, commented Rat.

I have done a terrific job handling the steering wheel, thank you very much! retorted Angel. I resisted volunteering for the class president, knowing I would be the most popular choice. We’re far too busy for such responsibilities.

Deku resisted the urge to groan aloud and slam his face against the desk. Great. Angel taking control was just what he needed. He had missed an entire evening and night to the most unpredictable of his quirks. That meant today was Friday, the day of his assignment from Shigaraki.

I haven’t gone out in two nights! Angel whined. I deserve better than this!

You better not have blown everything! he hissed.

“Oshiro?” Hitoshi shook his arm again. “Dude, you are starting to freak me out.”

“Fine!” Deku said with what he hoped was a convincing laugh. He rubbed at the back of his head. “Just lost in thought, i-is all. I’m fine. Are we, ah, going to Math today?”

Hitoshi set his lips. “Yeah. Math. You ready to go, or do I need to be concerned about seizures too?”

“Nope! All good here!”

The other boy didn’t look convinced, but luckily he couldn’t detect lies. Not without using his quirk first – a real possibility of a threat. Deku needed to dodge his concerns, especially considering he was a spy for their teacher.

“Right. I’ll show you to Math, then.”

Deku tried to resist falling back into his head for the remainder of the morning. He wanted to. He was so nervous about his assignment that he couldn’t stop shaking his leg or fidgeting with a pencil. He couldn’t bring himself to write anything down. He didn’t know if he would be able to stop. And besides, his third eye would remember everything regardless.

It was at lunchtime when the nerves really started to kick in. The idea of eating made his stomach curl up into a tight little ball. He could only stare sadly at his rice bowl, wishing he were anywhere and anyone else.

“Congratulations on winning class president, Tenya,” Ochaco said between bites of white rice. “How are you feeling?”

“Humm,” the taller boy said, “I’m not quite sure how I feel at the moment. It is a prestigious honor.”

“You won?” Deku asked stupidly.

Everyone turned toward him. Even the kids sitting down the table seemed surprised. He immediately flushed and said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Kozue wasn’t paying attention,” Hitoshi said calmly as he picked up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks. “He was too busy spacing out in class.”

Deku sputtered, “I wasn’t- I didn’t-”

“Spacing out?” Ochaco asked in concern. “Were you daydreaming? I daydream sometimes when I’m tired and forget everything for whole classes!”

Deku gratefully grabbed to the lifeline Ochaco had no idea she threw him. “Of course! Just daydreaming. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention when you won, Tenya. Congratulations. I’m happy for you.”

The other boy thankfully bowed his head, still too swept up in the excitement to notice it was mostly Rat talking there. “Thank you very much. I will do my best to uphold the rigorous standards set by our highly acclaimed predecessors-”

An alarm cut Iida off, and a voice on a loudspeaker began to repeat a single message, “Warning: level three security breach. All students are to exit the building in an orderly fashion.”

Deku’s whole body went cold all over. This was it. This was when he needed to make his move.

“What’s going on?” Ochaco asked.

Everyone stood. One of the older students next to them said, “A level three means someone’s gotten into the building. We have to get out of here!”

Around them, voices of alarm were beginning to rise. Deku pretended to join in on the scare. “W-we should do what he says,” he stammered out as he backed away from the table. Then he turned tail and disappeared into the writhing crowd. He heard Hitoshi call out to him, but otherwise, no one seemed to even notice he left.

Shigaraki’s plan might actually work.

The instant he was around a corner, Deku shifted fully into Rat. He was not scared to give away everything this time, knowing Rat could handle himself better than all of them. His body shark, his limbs becoming stouter. His jaw ached as some of the teeth grew while others disappeared altogether. Large, fuzzy ears sprang up on the sides of his head and his hair turned short and gray. He had to resist the urge to get on all fours, stumbling on shortened leg bones and elongated feet. He slipped off his shoes and tucked them under his arm as he ran against the tide of students. He held back the transformation just enough to keep the quills from breaking through the back of his shirt.

No one paid him any attention. Being Rat, he was virtually invisible.

Rat relied more on his hearing and sense of smell than vision. They guided him safely through the crowd and toward the employee offices. Rat activated his special power, and his body shrank further still. He had to pause to roll up his pant legs when they started to make him stumble, holding up his sagging pants with the same arm that held his now enormous shoes. His shirt hung loosely around his shoulders, threatening to slip off.

Crap, this was going to be harder than he thought.

He kept going, darting through the employee offices until he reached the right door. Rat pulled a spare keycard he had been sure to snag from Aizawa’s bag that morning and scanned it. The reader flashed green, granting him access.

Rat was very good at his job.

Quieter than a mouse, he slipped inside Aizawa’s office. The accommodations were simple and neat, with a clear space to lie on the floor and nap. Rat wasted no time jumping on the computer and booting it up. He hummed thoughtfully at the request for a password. He typed the override code Dabi had given him, and miraculously, it worked. There was probably a tech quirk involved in the process somehow.

Rat’s job was technically done at this point. The virus would spread on Aizawa’s computer now. Shigaraki could get everything they needed without further risk to his cover. But Rat hesitated. The chance to gain more knowledge was too irresistible.

He opened up Aizawa’s emails and scanned them as quickly as possible. Rat was near-sighted, forcing him to hunch in toward the screen to read the titles. He ignored most of them. Gods above, Aizawa got a lot of spam. He paused at the most recently opened email yesterday, a message from the quirk counselor. He clicked on it. His third eye scanned the message in a blink.

In light of our conversation yesterday, it began, I would like to share with you some of my conversation with young Oshiro earlier this morning. Though I typically reserve a patient’s right to privacy in all matters, I do understand your concern, having now spoken with him. This is also from the understanding you have yet to reach his parents.

That out of the way, young Oshiro shows clear signs of exhaustion from quirk overuse. He told me he cannot deactivate his quirk, which is concerning. His quick is classified as a minor transformation ability, meaning he no doubt should be able to deactivate. Either something is extremely off with his emotional state to cause such instability, or his quirk is not at all what we think. Both could be true at once. His shifts in tone of voice (which you described very accurately to me) enhance the possibility in my mind of a sentient quirk with no outward indicators. He was very insistent that it was not the case. I have my doubts as to his truthfulness.

Of course, we cannot rule out the possibility of psychological problems at work here. I would recommend further research on the subject of quirk abuse. There is a chance someone in Oshiro’s past has specifically punished him for lack of control.  

Rat didn’t bother reading over the goodbye. Neither did he check the internet for the subject of quirk abuse. He could make an educated guess on that one. He logged off the computer, leaving everything exactly the way he found it, then slipped from the room and silently closed the door behind him. He began to make his way out of the offices when something made him pause.

A shuffle. Rat stopped just in time for a stick person with crazy blond hair to walk out of an open office in front of him. How had he not heard the man?

“Hello there,” the man said. Something about him seemed familiar. His smell, maybe? His dull yellow eyes watched Rat in alarm. He hadn't noticed Rat until now either. “Are you lost?”

Stay calm, Rat logically reminded himself. You are a young, innocent student. You did nothing wrong.

“I hid,” Rat said. His large front teeth gave his words a strong lisp. “I’m sscared of the alarm. Ssorry.”

The man held up his hands. “No need to apologize. I wanted to hide away in here, too.”

They both knew that wasn’t the reason. This man was dangerous. The fact Rat had been spotted in the employee offices at all was a hitch in the plan he couldn’t afford.

The man eyed the shoes tucked under his arm and the baggy clothes. Rat shrugged. “I sshrink when I’m sscarred. Ssorry.”

Rat knew he didn’t sound convincing. Despite his love for lying, Angel was a far better actor than he. Ironic that Angel never needed to act most of the time – he was just that dramatic.

“Well, that’s perfectly understandable. Unfortunately we still need to leave the building. Why don’t you come along with me and we can find your teacher-”

Rat never let him finish. He darted forward, knowing by the smell of the man he was sickly and not likely to react very fast. He shrank further and ducked between the man’s legs and toward the exit.

“Hey, wait-!”

Rat couldn’t help a smug grin as he darted for the door. His grin turned into a squeak when something grabbed his shirt from behind and he sagged against the material. Out of instinct, several quills shot out from his back, spearing his attacker’s shoulder. The man released a shout of alarm and let go. He was much faster than Rat assumed. Trying to throw the man off, Rat turned around and hissed at him. He shot forward and bit the hand that was still trying to grab at his clothes. He dug his front teeth in deep before letting go and vanishing out the door.

If the man followed him, he was quickly left behind amidst the churning crowd. Rat ducked in and around larger students until he was once again lost in the river of storming feet. He grew to his normal size, then slipped on his shoes and gradually changed back into Deku’s form. His mind was still buried somewhere in the chaos. That was fine. Rat could handle control for now. More importantly, he couldn’t get the taste of that man’s blood out of his mouth. It sunk into sinuses and infected his mind with an oh-so-familiar stench. He could hardly believe what his senses were telling him.

Fear-smell. But also, All Might.

All Might was a tiny man when no one was looking, and All Might was afraid.

Notes:

Recovery Girl: Oh you poor dear! What happened THIS time?

Toshinori: ...I don't want to talk about it

Also Toshinori: I might need a rabies shot...

Chapter 13: Deku goes home for the weekend

Summary:

Uh, oh...

Somehow, Iida managed to rise above the crowd and calmed everyone down. No doubt Ochaco’s quirk helped. He did a great job, and would surely make for a decent class representative. Rat was glad to join up with his other friends as the students around them began to file outside in proper order.

“So, where did you go?”

Hitoshi inspected Rat with such intensity, that Rat knew his answer was vital. “I got scared, sorry. I panicked along with everyone else.”

“Ah-huh.”

They didn’t speak again until they got outside, where the police were escorting the press away. It was an inventive strategy, letting the press in to distract everyone while Rat did his job. It had almost gone flawlessly. Almost, except for that man he now knew to be All Might in disguise. That bit of information was likely worth the risk on its own.

And then there was Hitoshi, who couldn’t mind his own damn business.

“What happened to your shirt?” the other boy asked, pointing to the back of Rat’s shoulder. That was where his three quills had shot out to defend himself. He adjusted his shirt to look at the tiny holes in surprise. They were almost invisible, really. Hitoshi had good eyes.

“I have no idea,” Rat said, shrugging. He pushed his shirt back into place. He would have to sew it shut the next time he was alone. He couldn’t afford for Aizawa or anyone else to see them. “It must have snagged on something in all the commotion.”

Speak of the devil, it was at that moment their teacher decided to appear. The man looked more tired than normal. Apparently he and his husband had been the ones to take the brunt of the press’s interrogations. Rat didn’t envy them.

“Is everyone alright here?”

“We’re fine thanks to Iida,” Rat confirmed, pointing to the taller student standing nearby, speaking with Ochaco and Denki. “He did a wonderful job of taking charge and directing everyone outside. You should commend him.”

“I see. I’ll speak to him, then.”

Aizawa had that critical kink to his expression. Crap. Their teacher knew about Deku’s different speaking patterns. Rat supposed it was too late to go back now. Deku was still asleep somewhere, and it wasn’t like Rat could truly copy his unique brand of stuttering.

Their teacher turned to Hitoshi. “What about you? Anything amiss?”

Hitoshi glared at Rat as he said, “Nah. We’re fine. Nothing to report here.”

Strange. Why was Shinso protecting him? Was his intention to gain Rat’s trust, only to speak to Aizawa behind his back? He couldn’t discount the possibility.  

“Fine then. Hizashi and I have to stick around for a little while longer. That said, school’s out for today. You can go home Shinso as soon as you get in contact with your parents. Understood?”

The boys both confirmed, and Aizawa left to talk to Iida, then returned inside the main building. All the while Hitoshi never stopped inspecting Rat like some bug.

“You owe me,” he pointed out.

“For?” Rat insisted.

“Okay then.” Shinso turned around and began to walk away. “I’ll just tell Aizawa everything, then.”

“No, wait,” Rat said. “Okay. I owe you. What do you want?”

The other boy turned back. “Where did you go when you disappeared?”

“Hiding. I was scared.”

Hitoshi crossed his arms.

“It’s the truth. I’m always scared.”

Hitoshi uncrossed his arms. He tapped his foot on the ground. “Fine then. Tell me why you sound like a freaking robot right now. It’s creepy, and your eyes are too wide.”

“It’s my quirk,” Rat said seamlessly. Reversed. “I don’t know why. It’s not sentient-” he rushed to explain. “Just…different, sometimes. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“You could do a better job than that,” Shinso scoffed. He was about to continue when his phone went off. He dug it out of his pocket. “Crap. My stupid parents are calling me, probably panicking over the news. I’ll reserve my report to Aizawa, for now. So long as we talk next week. You get me?”

“Sure. No problem.”

Hitoshi left, and as he did, Rat couldn’t get those words out of his head. For now. The boy said it in the same way Dabi said it, reminding Deku that his life was stuck in a state of maybes. Maybe Hitoshi wouldn’t tattle to Aizawa. Maybe All Might and the staff wouldn’t connect the information leak to him.

Maybe he would survive the weekend.

 

--

 

A fancy black car picked up Deku later that afternoon at the school. A gentleman with a European accent drove, seeming all the world like a rich family’s driver. Deku had never met the person. He suspected it was Toga in disguise, but one could never be sure. The League had their hands in quite a few pockets.

The driver opened the back door and Deku was about to get in, when Aizawa standing behind him suddenly said, “You don’t have to go.”

Deku froze. The driver was putting Deku’s single bag into the trunk, and he too paused. Both of them were watching Deku, waiting for his answer. The driver gave nothing away through his kind smile and bushy mustache.

“What do y-you mean?” Deku asked. He was back fully in his head now, but alongside Deku, the Hound was never far behind. A steady build of dread over the last few hours had brought the beast closer and closer to the light. All he wanted to do was run. To where, he had no idea. There was nowhere he could run without Sensei finding him.

The teacher hesitated, scratching at his neck under his scarf. He seemed…unsure. It was an odd emotion to see within the usually level-headed hero. Deku didn’t like it. It made him even more uncertain than ever before what the future held. “I just meant…” Aizawa let out a long breath. “It’s nothing. I thought since your parents aren’t home very often, you would want to spend the weekend with us. I do understand that you may need time alone.”

Deku nodded, not sure what else to do. “Yeah, time alone,” he echoed softly.

“Is that what you want?”

Aizawa was probing for information. The man suspected something wasn’t right. He wanted to keep Deku here, but couldn’t, not being his legal guardian. If Deku said no, Aizawa would likely do his best to fulfill the request. Deku could stay here. He never had to go back.

But when he opened his mouth, the sound that came out was a decisive, “Of course! I-I-I like living with you and everything, it’s just…”

He couldn’t find an excuse. There wasn’t one. He couldn’t even make up a lie.

Aizawa dipped his head. “I understand. I’ll be in this spot Sunday evening to pick you up, like last time. Okay?”

Deku nodded, not meeting the man’s eyes as he slid into the back seat of the car and shut the door. He didn’t trust himself to say goodbye without breaking down and begging for help. The driver closed the back trunk, making Deku flinch. His heart pounded in his throat, his breathing too loud in his ears.

The front door opened and the driver got in. The door shut, sealing them both inside. The car started and began to drive away. Deku watched his teacher at the front of the school grow smaller and smaller until he disappeared altogether.

“T-Toga?” he finally asked.

“Uh-huh,” the driver confirmed. He had dropped his fake accent, but his voice still sounded warped with the tone of a young girl. “You have fun this week, being a proper schoolboy?”

“Um. Y-yeah. Sure.”

Deku wished he had his backpack to clutch at. He probably wouldn’t see it again until he saw Aizawa on Sunday.

IF he survived that long.

“Great! That’s a good boy. We’ve all been rooting for you back home! Shigaraki’s looking forward to your full report, of which I’m sure you have plenty to share!”

Deku knew a threat when he heard it. Shigaraki was likely displeased with the tiny scraps fed to Dabi. Deku could only hope his ability to hack into the hero’s systems would be enough to save his hide.

Then again, he had that piece of information now, about the world’s number one hero. It should be the first thing out of Deku’s mouth in front of Shigaraki. That little tidbit would carry him for at least a few more weeks while he found something else.

Deku swallowed hard and dug his claws into his pants, trying not to shred them. Sweat started to prickle above his eyes.

The ride across town was one of the longest of his life. He couldn’t afford to lose time right now. Not when he risked the Hound or that one taking over. When Toga finally stopped in the parking lot of a big office building, Deku felt ready to snap in half.

“W-where are w-w-we?” he asked.

Toga hummed thoughtfully. “Should have guessed you knew we weren’t at the hideaway. That nose of yours is pretty sharp. Shigaraki’s in a special meeting right now with the boss. And guess who’s invited? You! How exciting!”

Deku should have guessed. The smoke from the industrial side of town hid many smells, but the specific tang emanating from the car’s vent made his stomach roil. He had been here in the past, sealed away for years. His most recent visit was a few weeks ago. It was night then. That had been when the Sensei gifted Deku his personal Nightmare.

Deku didn’t know if he could do it all again.

Toga was suddenly at his side of the car, opening the door. “Out you go!” she said cheerily.

Slipping onto the pavement, Deku felt completely numb. He didn’t register the impacts of his strides, floating above the ground as Toga led them, still disguised as a man, into the front lobby of the office building. The lights were on and air conditioning hummed in the background. Magazines sat open in the waiting area. A lucky cat ornament waved its paw on the front desk. Aside from those indicators of life, the whole place was abandoned.

Toga put her arms behind her back and began to skip ahead of them, humming a happy song. Her relaxed behavior should have reassured Deku, but he knew Toga better than that. His terror made her more excited than anything.

They got into an elevator, and only then did the driver shrink back into Toga. She stood taller than Deku still, but he much preferred her this way to that of a man. He still couldn’t figure out how she morphed her clothes along with her physical attributes. As someone with a transformation quirk without that ability, he envied her. It didn’t seem fair.

“Excited?” she asked him as they rose upward.

“Sh-should I b-be?” he managed to stammer past the lump in his throat.

“Well…” she drawled out, “I know something’s about to happen. Shigaraki and Sensei have been cooking big time. This could be the moment we’ve been waiting for, you know? Our chance to take out the big guy.”

“Oh.” Deku didn’t know if he could feel any more tense. Apparently he could. “Cool.”

The elevator door opened and they walked into the hall. Deku stepped very carefully, knowing each one could be his last.

Chapter 14: The Hound has a bad day

Notes:

Hello my lovely readers, here are two chapters for you. I hope you have a terrible time *~*~

Minor TW for violence in this chapter and major ones for the next

They stepped through another hall and entered a large, darkened room separated in half by a screen. On the other side, Deku could make out the imposing, helmeted figure of Sensei towering over a kneeling Shigaraki. Their voices came in dark, serious murmurs. Deku knew better than to eavesdrop. He couldn’t have even if he wanted to, his breathing too quick and raspy in his ears.

Toga rolled her eyes. “Calm down, won’t you?” she whispered. “You think it would go well for you if you passed out?”

No, it wouldn’t go well at all. Deku forced himself to take a deep breath, taking the Hound and shoving him back behind a door. It was a temporary solution. He could only suppress the beast so long before he eventually escaped.

They waited there for some long minutes. Eventually, the conversation behind the screen concluded. Shigaraki dipped his head low as if accepting responsibility for a sin barely forgiven. Then he stood, went to the screen door, and exited that side of the room, shutting the screen softly behind him. Sensei’s shadow remained unmoving. Shigaraki stood in front of the door and simply stared at the wall, lost in his thoughts. He wore none of his creepy hands, and yet the emptiness in his expression made for a specific kind of horror.

Then Toga shifted her weight, not even making a noise, and Shigaraki’s gaze snapped to them standing by the door.

“Look who decided to show up,” he rasped out. His voice was dry and hollow. Sarcastic.

Sensei had done something to him. But whatever punishment Shigaraki had received, it wasn’t visible on the outside. He walked toward them slow and steady, his step a little too precise.

Deku hoped it hadn’t been too terrible a sin. Whatever it was, Shigaraki would make him feel that pain three times over. No doubt it involved Deku’s failures somehow.

Had Sensei given him a quirk?

Deku doubted it. No one spoke to him about these things, but his advanced senses told many stories. He knew his specific transformation quirk made him unique. No one else had yet to handle multiple quirks without eventually going mad. But it was still a possibility.

Maybe Deku did go mad. He’s just better at hiding it.

Shigaraki stopped in front of them. Deku looked to the floor as that empty stare bore down on him. “You’re lucky you proved capable of hacking into the UA’s files. Unfortunately for you, they revealed the true scope of your incompetency.”

Deku swallowed. This was it. This was the moment when he needed to spell All Might’s secret.

“I…”

“Shut up,” Shigaraki growled.

Deku flinched. He shut his mouth.

“Your teacher has been researching you, as you are incapable of acting like a normal human. I was too naive, sending you to that school. You’re just a stupid animal.”

The words hit Deku like stones. His shoulders rose higher and higher and his head slunk lower and lower toward the floor. Toga was glaring at him from the corner of his eye, like it was his fault she hadn’t educated him, duh.

Shigaraki paused, taking in a deep breath. This was it. This would be Deku’s punishment – but also, his second chance to prove himself. They wouldn’t have bothered hosing him down if they didn’t intend to keep him around. Toga would have simply killed him in the car. Whatever the punishment, Deku knew he could endure it just for the thought of that second chance.

And then Shigaraki spoke:

“Sensei has decided that you need some…fine-tuning, as it were. You’re to see the Doctor today.”

All thoughts fled Deku’s mind. “The…the Doctor?” he heard his body say in a soft voice.

“Yes, the Doctor. He’s to say whether or not you’ll continue on this assignment after another few rounds of reconditioning.”

Reconditioning…

The word sent tremors down Deku’s spine. He was losing control. He felt it in the jelly of his bones. “I don’t…I-I-I mean I don-I don’t n-need any-!”

“Oh,” Shigaraki mused, “I think you do.”

They all knew it would happen. Deku had been eyeing the door since he walked in. Now he bolted for it. The Hound had finally slipped his leash, and Deku had no more choices left. He was truly an animal now with the singular goal to escape the threat.

“Grap him!” Shigaraki snapped impatiently.

Deku heard Toga whoop in delight as she transformed. Heavy footfalls thundered after him. Reaching the door, Deku glimpsed the hulking figure chasing him down. Toga had changed into a massive athletic man around seven feet tall. A hand the size of a dinner plate snatched at Deku and missed just as he ducked into the hallway.

The Hound’s flight lasted as long as the elevators. He went for the stairs first but found the door locked. They had already anticipated him trying to flee. He ducked under Toga a second time and she cursed in a deep rumble. He sprinted to the elevators and smashed his clawed hand against the button. The doors to the elevator dinged and began to open. The Hound slipped inside and smashed the “close door” button. They began to shudder closed.

He had half a hope of escape when a large hand caught the doors, forcing them back open. Toga ducked casually into the elevator. The Hound pressed against the back wall, hissing as Toga towered over him.

“This again?” Toga scoffed, rolling her eyes. She grasped Deku by the arm and the Hound lashed out blindly. He shredded Toga’s shirt with his claws and kicked out with now-shoeless paws. The huge man only snorted in amusement. “We played this game a lot before you got control of yourself. Only a week away from home, you’ve already forgotten everything we taught you.”

The Hound only snarled and fought harder to get away, trying to wench his shoulder out of Toga’s grip.

“Look at you. Just a stupid mutt. I’ll make you listen.”

This whole time Toga had been holding him with one hand like he was a tiny, rebellious child. Now she brought over her other hand and neatly gripped Deku around the neck. She squeezed just enough to cut off his airway. The Hound could only squeak out a sad whine.

“That’s better. Can you hear me, Izuku?”

The Hound showed his teeth.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” Toga sighed. She used her lanky elbow to hit the bottom floor number on the elevator’s panel. “Alright kiddo, time to visit the doc.”

The Hound whined and fought all the way. His thoughts were a mash of panic and harsh memories of antiseptic and latex and bright lights and pain. So, so much pain. He didn’t know what was happening except he was going there. He couldn’t. He would die trying to get away rather than submit to that again.  

Eventually, Toga got annoyed with the struggle when the Hound managed to bite her hand. “Little shit,” she cursed, then used her grip on his neck and arm to pop Deku’s shoulder out of its socket with surprising ease. It was so quick that Deku didn’t even realize what had happened until his body seized with pain. Toga ignored the whimpering and dragged him by his dislocated arm through the opening doors of the elevator. She lifted him just high enough that the toes of his sneakers skimmed the floor, no release from all his body weight hanging on his arm. It completely changed his goal from trying to escape to trying to stand, at least a tiny bit.

“Don’t worry little buddy!” Toga said cheerily. “I know you aren’t listening to me right now but Doc’ll fix you right up! No more fuck-ups for you!”

All the Hound could do was release a high, sad whine.

They entered a dark and dingy part of the building. The basement. There were no windows or vents. To keep people from hearing the screams, the doctor’s voice echoed in Deku’s memories. The halls were dusty and dimly lit.

Finally, they reached a set of double doors, like for a surgery. Toga shouldered them inside. The room was even dimmer than the hallway. An overwhelming stench of rot assaulted the Hound’s sense of smell. The doctor always smelled like rot, but this was different. The smell consumed everything, so thick it was almost visible as a haze in the air. As the Hound’s weaker eyes grew accustomed to the dark, he saw an enormous shape laid on a table. It was a body – over ten feet tall and made of thick, black muscle. No, not a body. A corpse. Long dead and never allowed to properly rot. Its eyes stared up at nothing, beak-like mouth slack with a purple tongue lulling out. Its brain sat on the table outside its body, attached by a few gray fibers to its empty skull.

The sight was horrific. It made the Hound freeze in shock and then renew his efforts to flee with greater urgency, the pain blotted out by the panic thundering rabbit-quick in his chest. Whatever that abomination was, he wanted to be far, far away from it.

“Oh?”

The voice from Deku’s nightmares drifted up from behind the monstrosity. Wiping bloody hands on a cloth, spectacles glinting in the dim light, the doctor walked around the table toward them. Just the sound of his particular lilt made the Hound choke back vomit.

Please. He would rather die than be here again.

“Been a while since we dropped by. Brought the mutt.” Toga lifted him, making him howl out in pain. “Oh, shut it you stupid animal. The boy can’t seem to keep this particular quirk under control. Boss wants ya to take a looksie.”

“Of course, of course.” The doctor grins as he walks closer, and already the Hound can see in his expression every terrible pain he’s to inflict. “You know I always have time for All for One’s special pet. We have so much fun together.”

Both Toga and the Hound flinched at the Boss’s name. It was easy to forget, sometimes. The doctor had special permission to spell out the impossible if he wanted.

Toga brushed it off easily. “Boss has special requests this time.”

“Oh?”

Toga lifted Deku even higher and shook him again, making the Hound scream between his teeth. His arm felt like it was on fire, as though it were being slowly torn away from him.

“We need all his quirks under control until we make our move – possibly longer if things don’t work out with next week’s plans. He doesn’t care how so long as no suspicions are raised. We need him whole again by tomorrow night. His new quirk should be a help with that.”

“Yes, of course. I remember well the deformed creature we pried that form. The insistent thing refused to die. But without such a handy quirk at its disposal? Tisk, tisk. I’m afraid to say it didn’t last long after that.”

“If you’re done reminiscing?” Toga said, sounding impatient.

“Follow me, my dear.”

The doctor led them into the depths of the room, away from the table holding the huge body with glassy eyes. The Hound caught sight of a familiar table and restraints and howled out a sound of pure, unrefined terror. He struggled even as Toga tightened her grip on his throat. They stripped him of his shirt, pants, and shoes, and even his socks. Toga then slammed him against the table, yanking on his limbs harshly as she held them in place for the doctor to secure the straps. There were eleven in total: two holding down each arm splayed beside him, two for his ankles, three large straps across his torso, one on his neck, and one winched across his forehead. By the end of it, the Hound was completely immobilized, not even able to hurt himself.

Her job done for now, Toga changed back into her regular self. She gazed down at the Hound whimpering on the cold metal table. Something like glee sparkled in her eyes.

“Wish I could stick around,” she said in such a nice voice. As though they were friends. As though she cared. “Unfortunately I have a job to get done. Have a fun time sweetheart! Oh, and doctor? Get rid of the stuttering, would you? It annoys me.” She blew a kiss at the restrained boy. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

With that, Toga turned and skipped from the room, waving once before she slipped out the double doors. The Hound’s vision narrowed to the spot where she disappeared. His breathing was harsh and ragged, like jagged glass in his lungs.

The doctor stepped into his line of sight, cutting off his vision of the exit. He was holding a syringe. “Why don’t we get started?”

Tomorrow might never arrive.

Chapter 15: Deku gets a check-up

Notes:

Major warnings for violence and non-con stuff in this chapter. You could skip it if you want - it shouldn't impede your reading experience too much.

“You know you’re special, don’t you child?”

The voice drifted to Deku through a haze of pain and drugs. He didn’t know what the doctor had slipped into his neck, except that his heart wouldn’t stop hammering in his chest and his thoughts were so clear now they flowed through his head like water. He felt more inside of his body than ever that he could recall. He was painfully awake and aware of every little thing happening around him. Every shift in the air, every chafe of the straps against his skin, every tiny movement of his shoulder joint hanging outside where it was supposed to rest. His breathing had changed from small huffs to deep, shuddering gasps that hurt his lungs. His body wanted to pass out, he knew, but the drugs were smart. They kept him up and shuddering as a deep terror settled in his bones.

“Special, because of that transformation quirk. It is quite a marvel, I must say. It is the only reason your body can handle the gracious quirks All for One has given you. At first, you were just a side project. A little theory our master wanted to test. No one expected anything from it. Truthfully I expected you to go insane. You did for a time. I had so much fun playing with you then, twisting your every little knob and button to see what stuck. And in the end, you pulled through. I had thought – ah! A success I did not expect. You laid on this table and I pried the real person out of you. I found the human in you then, and I shall do so again. Perhaps even better, this time.”

Deku couldn’t see the Doctor. The older man was messing with equipment behind his back, rummaging through what sounded like a junk pile. Everything felt too-real and not real at once. The sensations were so overwhelming that a part of Deku couldn’t handle it. He had no idea where he was or what was happening, even as part of him very much knew, and even as his body trembled and shuddered in anticipation for what was to come. What was Angel and Rat and Dragon and Hound had jumbled and twisted in his head and body. The drug, whatever it was, somehow kept the transformations at bay. A modified quirk suppressant? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything except the sensations that were edging him toward madness.

Wasn’t he already mad? The doctor had done that. He was doing it again.

“Tell me your name, child.”

Deku gasped in a shuddering breath. “Ko-Kozue Oshiro!”

Pain like a lightning bolt slammed into Deku’s side. He seized up, then sagged, letting out a ragged sob. Was that a taser? He’s felt a taser before thanks to Dabi, but that was something else. Something designed to inflict pain without the head-buzzing side effects.

“Normal people don’t stutter. Normal people talk in a normal voice. Now. Tell me your name.”

Deku swallowed down another sob. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He couldn’t see anything. His voice was low and steady as he said, “Kozue Oshiro.”

“Good, good. Let’s keep going.”

There were so many things happening, and not happening, and all of it going too fast for him to keep up. The doctor asked him dozens of questions and was only satisfied with half of his answers. Eventually the pain stopped receding, and every new shock felt like an injury inflicted on a gaping wound. He stopped messing up. He wasn’t even aware of the words spilling from his mouth, but they seemed to please the doctor. He got another injection in the neck that made everything slow down a little bit, which clashed with his previous drugs, making the whole world mucky and contrast. He was completely limp as the doctor undid his straps. The man lifted him bridle-style, and part of Deku knew he needed to be disguised, that this wasn’t right, but he was too distant from himself. The doctor laid him on another metal table without any restraints (not that he needed any at this point) and began petting his hair in some gross show of attachment.

“I love you, you know. You’re such an intriguing little specimen. I know the only reason you’ve managed to stay sane is by segmenting your mind. A wonder, that. You took each of those quirks and made them a different person with their own abilities. Don’t you remember telling me that so long ago? You used to confess everything to me, you beautiful creature. You can say it. Whatever you want.”

Deku opened his mouth, but a rising force in his mind grabbed his vocal cords and silenced him with a choke. No! Rat screamed from the depths. Don’t let him in!

And so Deku stayed silent, choking and sobbing even as the doctor wiped away his tears from his face with a thumb. “It’s okay, pet. I have something that will make it all better.”

The doctor grabbed something from behind the other table, the place he had been rummaging a few minutes ago (hours?). It looked like a set of headphones, except, where normally there were cushions to encase someone’s ears, there were two metal probes with foam-encased, tapered ends. Deku couldn’t help the cry of panic when he saw it.

“Now, now. It’s now so bad as it looks. Just a simple little device to help you stay in the right headspace.”

Deku couldn’t do anything but sob as the doctor fit the device over his head and inserted the little nubs into his ears, making the world muffled and dull. He was heaving in terror again, in and out, in and out, desperately wishing to pass out or die or float out of his body, anything at all but this.

“Be calm.”

Something like static zapped in his ears, and Deku went still. What was that? He was calm now, deceptively calm. He felt the panic bubbling under his skin, but it couldn’t reach him. What was happening? He wanted to run, to cry out, to die, but nothing occurred, not even the twitch of an eyelid.

“Breathe, my love.”

Deku dragged air into his throbbing lungs. He kept on doing what the voice said despite what his mind was screaming. It felt like Hitoshi’s quirk, but he was kind and gentle there, and his quirk made you believe whatever he said was the truth. Despite his cocky persona, Hitoshi used his quirk with an un-called-for dignity.

This wasn’t that.

The device hummed in Deku’s ears, equally throbbing in the fibers of his brain.

“Tell me you love me back.”

Deku didn’t understand this. He would have done it anyway for fear of the pain, but the device on his head demanded obedience. The words spewed from his lips:

“I love you!”

And in that moment, Deku knew he would never say those words to anyone again. Not without the doctor’s sick, toothy gleam hovering above him.

“Good boy. Now. Bring Rat out for me.”

His body made a sick, gulping sort of hiccup. Surely the machine couldn’t control his very thoughts, could it? And yet unbidden he felt Rat get hauled up from the depths as though snagged by a fishing line. Deku caught sight of Rat’s terrified expression in his mind’s eye before he broke the surface.

Rat bared his mousy front teeth at the doctor.

“Ah, there you are. What’s wrong, little rat?”

“I hate you!”

“Ah, but you aren’t the one who’s supposed to feel hatred. You’re the rational one. The strategist. You help little Izuku escape no matter what emotion might threaten to overwhelm him. Let’s you and I have a little talk, shall we?”

And talk they did. The doctor drilled Rat until the poor thing was panting and heaving for breath, now fully convinced of his duty. Each of Deku’s parts the doctor pulled to the surface and spoke to at length, making them believe whatever sick truth he wanted so long as he stopped hurting them. Perhaps it was better that they each bore some part of the abuse, despite having to witness the others’ pain.

And still, with every word, every shock, every unwanted touch, Deku felt the cracks in his soul deepen into canyons. There was no fixing this, as he had once desperately hoped. Not even a hero could put him back together again.

The Hound learned the fastest what was needed from it. Fear and panic. Histeria. But also, control. Repression. Nonetheless, the doctor spent the longest with the Hound. He caressed floppy ears and cooed as the beast tried to bite him.

And then the doctor’s hands traveled lower, and whatever little thoughts the Hound had in his head were blotted out in a haze of white panic.

No no no no no nonononon-!!!

And lower….

….

 

The Hound was the doctor’s favorite. The beast screamed and cried and howled under the unwanted pressure and heat and the salty stench of blood just the way the madman liked. The others felt bad for the Hound, and at the same time, lucky they had been spared.

This time.

“You know I’m only doing this because I love you,” the repulsive man whispered against Deku’s neck. “Even if you hate me, I cannot hate my creations, just as I could not hate my own children. You are beautiful and perfect in the shape I broke you. I cannot express my love in any higher way.”

They drifted. They endured. They pretended it was all a bad dream. Soon they would wake up and be back in the old closet, or maybe even the room at Aizawa’s house. What a dream come true that would be…

He hurt. Everything hurt – his body, his dignity, his worth as a living thing. He didn’t know if he could live with the memories of this black and cloying pain.

So, he did not remember, after a while.

 

--

 

Lastly, the doctor made him summon the Nightmare to fix his innumerous injuries. Whatever happened in that period was lost. At the end of it, the doctor forced him to push the Nightmare back down. It felt like swallowing regurgitated vomit. He did it because he didn’t have a choice.

The aftermath was a dream. He felt a shoulder under his stomach, hauling him upward. Cold. Cars whirred past the cool window where his forehead rested. More cold. He was cleaned in a bright white bathroom, strawberry-scented shampoo gently rubbed into his hair. A female voice hummed in the echoey room. He lay limp as the person pulled him from the draining tub, towel-dried his body, and clothed him in a pair of fluffy pajamas. They carried him from the bathroom and laid him on a couch.

The TV was turned on and played a nature show about wild boars. Deku let the peaceful colors wash away everything else in his mind. A cup of steaming instant ramen was given to him but he only took a few sips. Then it was plucked from his drifting hands before he could spill it everywhere. That voice kept saying soothing things to him. A gentle hand pressed his head against a warm chest, and Deku melted into the embrace. Fingers threaded through his tangled hair.

The words eventually started to make sense. “…Oh, you poor little pet. I’ll take care of you, poor baby Izuku. You stupid, damaged thing.”

Deku shifted slightly, trying to see the person he was leaning against. “Toga…?” he croaked.

“That’s right, baby. It’s good to see you back with me now. How did things go at your little check-up?”

“It…I don’t know…”

“Shh, that’s alright. I don’t hear that stutter anymore. That must mean the doctor did a good job. He really is a magician, isn’t he? Well then. I hope you're ready because I’ve been instructed to tell you about your next assignment.”

“…Oh.”

At the very least he knew he was getting a new assignment. Another chance to appease his masters or fuck up royally all over again.

“What…what time is it?” And what day? he didn’t add.

“Seven in the afternoon. I picked ya up from the doc a couple of hours ago.”

Deku shuddered. Twenty-three hours. He spent almost a full day with that horrible monster.

“And my…assignment?”

“I’ll tell you all about it once you get some sleep. Here’s the gist, though,” and Toga’s voice filled up with bloodlust as she spoke the next part: “I was right. We’re after the big guy, and you’re going to help us beat him, whether you like it or not.” She ruffled his hair. “Don’t you worry about that right now, squirt. You rest, and tomorrow I’ll fill in the details. We’ve got a weapon to beat All Might once and for all.”

Deku tried to slow his racing heart. All Might’s secret rose in his throat. Tell them now and have a greater assurance of his safety. Tell them, and Sensei wins his game.

Tell them.

But it wouldn’t come. He didn’t know why, but it refused to leave his chest. Instead, he shakily whispered,

“Okay.”

Notes:

Next time! Aizawa wants some answers damn you

Chapter 16: Interlude – Aizawa investigates

Shota Aizawa was not an amateur.

No one took their work as seriously as him. His students might see his behavior as laziness, but he had his reasons for everything he did, no matter how mundane. He had more self-control than anyone he knew. He could pay attention when tired, knew everyone’s weaknesses around him (including – especially – his students and co-heroes), and could keep from blinking no matter how long it took to get the job done.

So why did Shota feel so stupid?

Ineffective was a better word. He knew he wasn’t stupid, otherwise, he would have let this whole situation phase out of his already-packed schedule. There didn’t seem to be a problem here, so why keep digging?

Except, that was the problem. It was as if someone wanted any future investigation into this case to just…slide off or go in circles. Whoever had created this six-year-old maze wanted him to give up.

Too bad a puzzle made him even more interested.

“Still working?”

“Mmm,” Shota hummed at his husband walking into the kitchen in his hero getup. Hizashi had been at the school a lot over the weekend for more marketing stuff. And he complained Shota worked too much.

“You haven’t moved from that spot since I left five hours ago.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your chair legs are in the same spot. I checked.”

Shota rolled his eyes and finally (finally! his body screamed) leaned away from his laptop. He met his husband’s stare and saw blatant worry.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Ah, yeah, just,” Shota sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes, stretching his neck back until it popped. “Just give me a second. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Or at all. I was there too, remember?”

“…Yeah.” Shota grimaced and looked out the window. It sucked when his insomnia affected the other people in his life. If only he could conquer that part of his body, he really would be the perfect underground hero he wanted. “All right. Well. I think you can already guess the subject of my…investigation, let’s say.”

“Our resident trauma case?” Hizashi said sarcastically.

It was no secret between them now that Kozue had indeed gone through something. Whether from a person in his life, or a stranger, or from his own quirk, they didn’t know. They had bounced around a lot of ideas, but neither of them could come to any conclusions without asking Kozue himself, and anytime they even neared the topic, he shut down. Deflected.

Damn it, I shouldn’t have let him go home…

But then he would’ve had to start an official investigation and take the kid into custody, and he would like to avoid putting him through further trauma unless absolutely necessary. It was always better to keep a child in their original family and try to work things out than tear them away at the first sniff of neglect. He didn’t know what the boy had gone through. He had no visible scars or signs of abuse. He did seem oddly small for a boy his age, and there were his issues with food. Shota would have pegged him for twelve, not fifteen. If only his parents would pick up their goddamn phones then maybe he would get some answers.

Hizashi shuffled awkwardly. “Does this have anything to do with your research on…multiple personalities?”

“It…yeah, some.” Shota waved his husband off. “Go change. I’ll fill you in when you get back.”

While Hizashi retreated, Shota gathered his notes on his computer. A few observations for Kozue’s upcoming psychological evaluation at school, and more notes about the…other boy. He was reading through them when his husband came back into the kitchen.

Hizashi had changed into more comfortable clothing, but the concern hadn’t waned. “Look, I understand this is important, but you’re starting to obsess, and we both know obsessive you doesn’t sleep. Maybe it’s time to hand this off to someone else – or at least some of it.”

“That’s part of the problem. I’ve stumbled onto something, I think.” Shota frowned. “I’m not sure if I trust the police on this.”

Hizashi’s brow furrowed. He went for the cabinets with a sigh. “I’m gonna make tea.”

While his husband gathered cups and put on the kettle, Shota said, “I need to go over these notes with you for Kozue’s evaluation. Feel free to add anything you can think of.”

“Alright…”

They started with the mood swings, though Shota personally didn’t feel the term fit. There were four different known personalities, more like, that the boy seemed to exhibit: the scared, shy one who stuttered and didn’t seem to know where he was half the time, the one who spoke in a perfectly even voice and wormed his way with logic out of any conversation, the angry one, who only emerged once that they knew around Bakugo, and the smug one and confident one. That particular personality only emerged on occasion, little glints and comments from someone who was decidedly not the terrified boy mostly in control.

“There’s his body language, too,” Hizashi pointed out, bringing them both mint tea.

Shota hummed and pretended to type that down. He already had a section on it, of course, considering studying body language was an integral part of his job. He said, “The main one and the logical one both seemed to want to look smaller, though not quite from fear on the latter’s part. The angry one is violent and reckless. When the confident one emerges, Kozue tends to throw his shoulders back and stand taller.”

Hizashi sipped his tea in consideration. “Have you noticed any of these…personalities emerging while he uses different parts of his quirk?”

“The only thing I’ve noticed personally is during his fight with Bakugo, his skin looked to be changing colors. His hair might have been shorter, too. I’ll have to review the tapes.” Again… “Otherwise, no.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Hizashi looked down at all the notes they had compiled and printed out for the doctor. “Poor kid. I hope it’s just a quirk problem we can smooth out with therapy. Otherwise…”

Neither of them wanted to entertain the idea the child had some deep psychological issues. Dissociative Identity disorder didn’t quite fit his symptoms, and yet…The more Shota investigated, the more it seemed like that might be the case. A quirk dysfunction combined with outside abuse could mean a lifetime’s worth of problems.

“There’s more.” Shota pulls up his notes from his second major investigation of the day. “I looked into what Bakugo told me about his and Kozue fighting, and it set me on the trail of something else.”

“Ah. And I assume this is what you mentioned, about trusting the police?”

“Yeah. There was a child in Bakugo’s class six years ago whose sole parent – his mother – was found dead in her apartment. They never ruled out murder and the case was left unresolved. The boy’s case was closed as well, stating relatives from his family’s home in Takasaki took him in. The problem is, I can’t find them.”

He made sure to meet his husband’s eyes. “I don’t know who these people were or where they are now. There are no names mentioned. No official custody documents were uploaded even though they’re mentioned in the report as though they exist. It's as if nothing happened at all. Anyone could have gotten hold of this kid so long as they forged the documents or made a bribe. Hizashi, he was…quirkless.”

His husband’s shoulders sagged. “He wouldn’t be the first quirkless kid to disappear into the system. And maybe…do you think this vanished child is ours…?”

Shota turned back to his computer screen. “I don’t know. It is a theory. Everything about the murdered woman and her son, including their names, has been erased when the case was closed. No pictures anywhere. The reports don’t even mention them by name. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone was meant to go back and get rid of the remaining documents and forgot, or were interrupted. Kozue does have all of his official documents. There are pictures of him as a child on his family’s social media, though those could be forged. The only thing we have to conclude they could be the same person is Bakugo’s account, and he changed his answer.”

Hizashi rubbed at his chin like he did while deep in thought. “Why, though?”

“Kozue said something to him at the end of their fight. One of Bakugo’s explosions messed with the microphone, or he otherwise said it too quietly for us to pick up. After that, Bakugo’s behavior toward him changed. It’s as though he still dislikes him, but now he no longer wants anything to do with him.”

“Maybe talking to Bakugo about this is a place to start. Or we go directly to the primary school.”

Shota nodded tiredly, looking at the clock. “Almost time to go.” He printed out copies of everything he’d investigated, then erased all evidence from his personal computer. “Don’t tell anyone yet about this. I need to figure out an uncompromised team to investigate.”

“Will do, my love.”

 

 --

 

Shota drove tiredly back to the school for the seventh day in a row. It would be twelve, by the end of this week, and even more if he went back over the weekend…

Hizashi had offered to go, but he was also tired and he had other obligations to work on. Besides, Shota volunteered to help this out-of-town child they didn’t know, and he was determined to fulfill his promise to Nezu.

Even if that promise ended up a lot more complex than any of them could imagine.

What personality will greet me this time? Shota wondered. They shy one, probably. That was the most common of them. But there had been that morning on Friday when it was decidedly the happy and confident one to meet them and travel to school. He had changed back to the shy one sometime during homeroom, and Shinso reported afterward to him that Kozue didn’t remember Ida getting voted as class president. And yet Kozue had so enthusiastically voted Ida in himself.

Some of it made no sense, and some of it made a little too much sense.

The kid was standing in the same spot Shota had picked him up before, wearing practically the same clothes and holding that sagging backpack. He watched the car pull up with a strange sort of tight-lipped smile. Shota considered rolling down the window and telling him to get in, but something about that expression stalled him. He got out instead like a proper human being.

“How was your weekend?” he asked after the kid only stared up at him with that same sort of dreary face.

“Pretty good. How was yours?”

Shota blinked. That…

That was new.

The tone didn’t match any of the ones he’d heard before. It was casual and laid back. Conversational. There was no stutter, no anger, no robotic voice, and none of the happy one’s childlike giddiness. It was almost normal.

Normal, except for how he clutched onto his backpack straps as though his life depended on it.

Shota grunted in answer. “Work is keeping me up late, but that’s nothing new. You ready to head to my house?”

The smile tightened. “Absolutely!’

Something about that look made Shota queasy. It was almost…glazed over. Kozue was awake and paying attention, but something in his movements, his eyes, or something told Shota that he could care less about this conversation. Or maybe he was just trying his best to stay on topic.

“Right. Let’s go then.”

The kid crawled into the back seat and buckled. His movements were strange. They all seemed to go at the same speed. Not quite robotic, but as though he gave all his attention to the complex muscular processes of opening the door and pulling on his seatbelt.

Shota got into the driver’s seat behind him. He glanced at the kid through the rearview window. “So, what did you do this weekend?” he asked in a droll voice.

Kozue was gazing out of the window idly. “I studied some. I was working on my English.”

“Do you think you’re any better?”

The boy smiled at the rearview mirror. “Nope!”

This was very strange. This was not the same child he had picked up seven days ago.

A quirk? He wondered. An entirely different person? A clone? Or is this simply a personality we haven’t encountered yet?

“We have your English professor living with you, you know. Take advantage while it lasts. I’m sure he would gladly help you out.”

“Okay. I’ll do that.”

Shota hummed. The rest of the ride went similarly, if not in silence. Something was wrong here. His gut told him so. He knew logic and reasoning were powerful tools, but Shota’s intuition had never steered him wrong. He had to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Those kids depended on him.

…However many there were.

Notes:

soooo I started a second job on top of school and things are super busy right now. Don't know when the next chapter will be out but I am indeed working on it!

Stay frosty my dudes

Chapter 17: Deku goes to therapy

Notes:

I tip my hat good day to you and offer this little snack...

 

After Deku visited the doctor, everything was…foggy.

He got back to Aizawa’s house somehow. He remembered standing in that same spot as last week, a feeling like deja vu sweeping through him. His teacher’s face after an eternity in that dark hell was like a wash of color and sunshine.

It was a first step out of this sinkhole he’d gotten himself into. One step, and yet so many more to go…

In a sudden surge of inner panic, Deku fumbled for his quirks, grasping at them in his mind like a child holding onto a security blanket. They were still there, still themselves…mostly. But Deku couldn’t reach them, not like he used to. He couldn’t hear their thoughts, if they had any. He felt their anger and pain and resentment at what the doctor had done. But that was a part of them now. Deku wasn’t allowed to feel those things anymore.

“Enjoy dinner, little listener?” Hizashi asked, coming into the living room after having finished cleaning up. Aizawa was on his laptop, seated across from the couch where Deku sat. And Deku was…

He was…

Doing something, wasn’t he? Something about dinner?

“Kozue?”

“Hum?”

Hizashi was standing beside him, looking down on him in concern. Aizawa had glanced up from his computer, though his expression remained in a state of intense focus, brows furrowed. “Kozue,” Hizashi said again, slower this time, “are you okay?”

“Of course! Why do you ask?”

His teacher blinked. “I ask because you’ve been acting strangely. Did something happen over the weekend?”

“Not really. I did visit my family doctor.”

“A doctor, huh?” Hizashi looked over at Aizawa, but nothing in the underground hero’s expression gave anything away. “What kind of doctor was this? Your family practice is open on the weekends?”

“He’s super good at his job.”

Nothing he said seemed to reassure the adults, so he went on, “We talked a lot this time. He made me remember that I don’t have to be scared – that’s all. He fixed me.” He said the last part with a glowing smile.

A smile that slowly slipped from his face as the two men only continued to stare at him.

But the doctor had fixed him, hadn’t he? He wasn’t supposed to be suspicious anymore. He was normal now.

Right??

“Kid,” Hizashi said slowly, again, like he was scared Deku would bolt right off the couch, “you’re a person, not a machine. You don’t need to be…’fixed.’”

“Well, you do think I’m better now, right?”

Deku looked up at the man pleadingly. Please, tell me I’m better now. I want to be okay….

But his teacher didn’t seem to know what to say. “I, ah…” he glanced at his husband to rescue him.

Aizawa cleared his throat. “He’s right, Kozue. You’re not broken – then or now. However, I do think it’s important that you talk with someone at the school like you talked with your doctor. Your first session will be tomorrow morning. Does that sound agreeable?”

“Sure!” Deku’s mouth said even as his heart was sinking in his chest. Another talk like with the doctor? Could he survive it?

No, no, no. He couldn’t. Not so soon.

“Kozue.”

Deku flinched hard when a hand was set on his shoulder. Hizashi was even closer now, leaning toward him, caging him in. The Hound didn’t like that. He wanted to run away. But the Hound wasn’t in control right now. His panic was muted and hard to reach.

“Yes?” Deku asked calmly.

“Take a deep breath, won’t you?”

Deku sucked air into his lungs, not realizing he’d been breathing shallowly for a while now. “Thanks,” he said, “Um, but I feel fine?”

Wrong. He didn’t feel anything at all. That was the only way for him even to approach “fine.”

“Kid, you’re shaking.”

This was bad. This wasn’t going the way it was supposed to go. “Wow, would you look at the time,” he said, glancing around frantically until he caught sight of a clock on the wall. It was barely eight o’clock. “Been-been a long day, huh?” He winced at the stutter. No, No, no! He wasn’t allowed to do that anymore!

“Kozue-” Aizawa started to say, but Deku had already pushed himself out of his seat and away from the adult towering over him.

“I’m going to bed now, see you tomorrow!”

With a cheery wave, Deku fled from the room faster than he could recall running from anything else, possibly even Toga taking him to visit the doctor. Because while the doctor was necessary and painful and horrible, there was something even worse about the people he looked up to judging him, seeing him at his lowest. At least the doctor never judged him when he cried.

He expected someone to chase after him, but no one did. It took a lot of concentration to access Rat’s ear. Deku pressed it to the door, trying to listen to the two husbands over the ragged gasp of his breathing.

“…going to make a whole separate section in the file, I think,” Aizawa said. He sounded well beyond tired. “And I had thought our evaluation was damn through. Look what I know. It seems we’ve only scratched the surface here.”

“Should we be leaving him alone?” Hizashi asked.

Aizawa sighed. “Probably not. But you saw how he reacted to you. He’s scared and wants to hide. I think we should respect that for the time being. Tomorrow we might get a better idea of what’s going on.”

“Right. Tomorrow.”

Shit. This was bad. So very very bad. Not only had he failed to avoid suspicions, but they’d also started a whole ass investigation on him.

Get it together, Deku, he thought, slapping at his cheeks a little too hard, making them sting. Then a frantic giggle bubbled up from below. As if that’s possible then all the pieces are out of reach!

He paused. Angel…?

But there was nothing except the taste of ashes on his tongue.

Get it together, he repeated in his mind over and over again. Get it together, get it together…

Only a few more days. Then, everything would be allowed to fall apart.

 

--

 

He met with the doctor in the same private office as the quirk counselor. It was a nice and peaceful room with a big window that overlooked the city. The new doctor said she could pull the curtain if heights intimidated him. He told her quickly that they didn’t, and the view of the sky was left undisturbed.

The new doctor’s name was Naoko. Deku only remembered it because he thought it suited her quite well. She was very small and unintimidating, and yet she held an unparalleled air of calm and control. With just her tone of voice, she stilled the churning waters of Deku’s mind, enough to bring him fully into the moment with her.

“Is it alright if I call you Kozue?”

“Sure. Of course.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your willingness to talk to me. There are not many kids your age, or even adults, brave enough to speak with a therapist. Do you have any questions before we begin?”

“Ah, I guess…” Deku looked around. “Why are we here? This office belongs to…to mister…um…”

Naoko smiled at him patiently. “You mean Doctor Goodpine? The quirk counselor?”

“Yeah…right. I forgot his name. Sorry.”

“That’s perfectly alright. To answer your question: yes, this is indeed his office. I don’t actually work here at UA. I have a professional practice on the east side, but I’m contracted by the heroes here to counsel students occasionally. Pro hero Hounddog acts as a life counselor at UA, but your teachers thought he might be a bit, ah, intimidating for this type of discussion.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Do you forget things like people’s names often?”

Deku froze. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t know if this person could be trusted, no matter how innocently she presented herself. He was too used to dealing with Toga’s manipulations to ever fully trust a woman.

“It’s okay if you do,” she went on easily. “I forget people’s names and faces all the time, especially since I deal with so many of them in my line of work.”

Deku swallowed. “Ah. Yeah. I forget things sometimes....”

“Is it only simple things like names, or do you forget more important stuff?”

“Stuff?”

She waved her hand. “Stuff like where you left your phone, or what you ate for dinner the night before. Or, maybe you forget even more important things, like what day it is, or how you got to be somewhere. Does that sound familiar?”

It did. Hell, Deku didn’t even know the date right now. Was he allowed to admit that? Wouldn’t this woman use that information to hurt him?

He didn’t know what to do, so he bit his lip and remained silent.

“Let’s go back a little,” Naoko said with a patient smile. “I got us off-topic there. We’re here today for a simple and easy psychological evaluation. Your teachers have a few concerns about your sleeping and eating habits. Is that correct?”

Daku nodded hesitantly. Putting the words “simple” and “easy” before “psychological” didn’t make it any less intimidating. Having been raised with Toga, it put him even more on edge.

“Very good. I’ll start with a bit of family history, and then we can discuss the specific symptoms you’re experiencing. Does that sound alright?”

No, but Deku nodded again anyway.

The woman probed him with question after question about his parents and grandparents and their lifestyles. Most of them he couldn’t have answered if he wanted to. He had no memories of his father and vague ones of his mother, but didn’t want to remember her. It hurt in a bad way, doing that.

So instead, he lied.

“My father works at a bank for a living. Strange, since his quirk is almost the same as mine. My mother is quirkless.”

“No, no family history of anxiety or depression. No serious illness, either. Everyone’s perfectly fine!”

“No, I’ve never been assessed for anything. I’m fine too.”

The doctor paused at this. “I have a note here you spoke with a doctor over the weekend,” she said. “Has this doctor not done a similar evaluation?”

Her tone was far from accusatory, but Deku nonetheless felt the blood drain from his face. He’d fucked up again.

“Oh, ah, he’s not that kind of doctor! Just a normal one…”

“I see. You mean a family practitioner?”

“Of course! Right.”

“And would you happen to know this doctor’s name?”

Shit shit shit

“I…well I, um, forgot. It was somewhere in the Shinagawa district, I think…?”

The doctor set her lips, but thankfully she didn’t press the issue. From there, however, they moved on to the tougher questions.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

“About me?”

“Certainly. That’s what we’re here to discuss, after all. What are your interests at home? Do you have any exciting hobbies?”

“Hobbies? Um…”

Deku tried to hide his wince. The stuttering had gone away, but now talking in general terrified him, even as not talking terrified him even more. He was trailing off too much, losing track of his concentration.

Get it together, get it together!

“Hobbies…I…”

He desperately scrambled in his mind for something to say. Gods above, anything.

If only it wasn’t so empty up here…

“I like…I like watching nature documentaries.”

Yes! Something!

The doctor leaned forward with interest, so Deku continued, “My parents put them on for me as a little kid when I was…when I…when I wasn’t feeling so well. That’s how I got some of the ideas for my quirk, I think…”

He frowned as he remembered. Shigaraki once said his transformations differed from the original mutant-type people they were taken from. Had his transformation quirk changed them somehow, affected by the only source of entertainment or light he had at the time?

And if that were the case, what other kinds of transformations could he achieve?

“Oshiro? Oshiro, are you alright?”

Deku blinked back into awareness. His head was buzzing strangely. “Huh?”

“I said your name several times. Do you recall where you are?”

 He looked around. “The…the office. The office of mister…um…”

“Mister Goodpine.”

He winced. “Right. I remember now. Sorry.”

The doctor gave him a pitiable smile, one that made his gut churn. “Can you describe how you felt just now? What were you thinking?”

Of course, he couldn’t tell her the truth. So he said, “Just remembering the documentaries I liked, is all.”

The doctor’s smile turned strained. “I see.”

The rest of the meeting went by with equal grittiness – Deku lying with an easy-going grin, trying to stay in the moment. The woman across from him nodded and scribbled on her notepad as though every word mattered.

Deku’s third eye tingled. He cracked it open, scratching at his forehead to hide the eye. Suddenly, he was hovering over the woman’s shoulder, scanning her notes in a blink.

…trouble with concentration, eye contact, agitation, memory recollection…

…and compulsive lying.

Suffice it to say, Deku left the therapy session with a massive headache to deal with.

Chapter 18: Dragon does interrogating

Notes:

Hello my lovelies, here are two chapters for your meal today (you have great taste I must say oh my)

Deku got out a little early from his therapy session (thank the heavens) and so found himself in the hallway alone. He had skipped homeroom and the next class to make his appointment, which he vaguely remembers being Japanese or something like that. Probably didn’t miss anything there. Aizawa was supposed to meet him here afterward to take him to his next class, but the hallway was empty.

He only stood alone for a minute before the loud slam nearby made him jump. He turned around to find Bakugo storming out of a nearby classroom, having just slammed the door shut behind him. The boy looked especially angry. In addition to the normative anger, however, he also seemed troubled.

Bakugo saw Deku and they both froze in place, staring. Then Bakugo’s scowl deepened. He marched right up to Deku and poked him hard in the chest, almost knocking him back.

“Whatever you’re hiding,” the taller boy hissed out in a lowered voice, “You’re doing a shit job.”

Deku rubbed at the sore spot on his chest. “Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb, you liar. Not with me. I don’t know what you’re up to, but whatever it is, you keep me out of it. I thought you wanted to lie low and be all secretive and shit, but fuck me then!”

Bakugo threw his hands in the air as he stormed off, leaving behind a very confused Deku.

Confused until Aizawa emerged from the empty classroom that Bakugo just left.

Oh.

Oh.

Deku’s blood ran cold as he took in the implications. Was Aizawa interrogating Bakugo about their argument last week? No, their teacher would have done it sooner if that were the case. That meant they must have been discussing Midoriya.

Buy why? How much did Aizawa know, now? Did he realize they were the same person?

“Ah, Oshiro. You’re out early.”

Deku blinked, dragging his mind out of his damp thoughts. “Um, yeah. Hi.”

Aizawa’s piercing eyes raked him up and down before flicking in the direction Bakugo retreated. “Ready for your next class?”

“Sure.”

An awkward silence to history. Deku’s thoughts buzzed too loudly in his head to notice. Somewhere deep underwater, Rat was having a fit. The logical one of their group wanted more than anything to seize control and fix whatever mess Deku had gotten himself into this time. If only it were that simple. With the cracks between them forced apart by the Doctor’s slimy fingers into more gaping chasms, he couldn’t just become Rat without his characteristics shining through. And besides, Aizawa was suspicious of Rat’s voice, something that would be unavoidable if he handed over control.

No, he would just have to figure this out on his own. First thing first: he needed more information. He had an old childhood friend to interrogate.

 

--

 

Deku found Bakugo at lunch. He had wanted to corner him right after the bell rang, much like Bakugo had done to him last week. His mission failed when he again lost all sense of direction right outside the classroom door. Trying to avoid a frustrated Shinso looking for answers of his own also didn’t help matters.

Bakugo was eating his fried rice slowly, not participating in the conversation around him. He sat with the red spiky-haired kid, the electric kid, the icy-hot kid, and the dude with a bird head and a crazy shadow. The last two surprised Deku. He wouldn’t have thought Bakugo could make friends so easily, especially not with the more anti-social members of their class.

Then again, maybe that shouldn’t surprise him at all.

“Hey, it’s Oshiro!” Kirishima declared as Deku walked over.

Everyone at the table turned their attention to the newcomer, making him want to run away.

“We missed you at homeroom this morning,” said Kaminari. “What were you up to?”

“I, ah…” Deku fiddled with his hands. “It was nothing. Um…can we talk, Bakugo?”

Everyone else turned to Bakugo, waiting for an answer. They all knew something was up between them and were probably curious. Bakugo slowly lowered his food bowl and glared at Deku. By the fury in that stare, everyone (especially Deku) expected him to deny the request or simply not say anything.

Instead, the boy shoved his remaining food at Kirishima and got to his feet.

“Hey!” Kaminari complained as they began to walk away. “No explanations for us?”

Bakugo growled out, “Shut it, spark plug.”

“Awe, come on!”

The bird-headed boy, Tokoyami, said in an even voice, “Do not be rude, Kaminari. This is obviously a personal matter between them. Let them go.”

The blond-haired boy sighed dramatically. “All right, fine…”

Deku tried not to run out of the hall as he led Bakugo, who followed along at such a slow pace Deku expected him to be left behind at every turn. They slipped into an empty classroom and shut the door. It felt far too much like the last time they were alone, with no one watching. In his situation, however, their dynamics had changed. Maybe Deku didn’t exactly have the upper hand, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Bakugo do whatever he wanted.

Deku crossed his arms. “I need to know what you told him.”

Bakugo whipped around, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “What the hell?” he cursed. “You little shit. I knew it was you.”

Deku huffed. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Fuck you. You’re lucky I have a very selective memory regarding your real name. I told him the same spiel I said in the infirmary. But, now that I know you’ve been screwing me over, I might as well spill the whole story to everyone.”

Bakugo made for the door. Deku lunged for him, grabbing his arm and throwing him away from the exit. “Back off!”

“Fuck you!” the blond shouted, jerking his arm so forcefully from Deku’s grip it was bound to leave marks. He pushed Deku stumbling away from him. “You lying fuck! When will you tell me the truth, huh?”

“Since when did you start caring about the truth?”

“Since I got my best friend kidnapped!”

Deku froze, staring into Bakugo’s suddenly cold eyes. That look was too serious and knowing to be from the boy who once bullied Deku incessantly – the one who was utterly confident in his superiority. Was there guilt in the expression, too? Sorrow?

The anger spiked like the rumble of an earthquake, and Dargon was in control. “So,” growled the reptile. “It was you after all. I knew it.”

Some of the memories from Deku’s past were held more exclusively by his quirks than others. There were some Dragon held and never shared. It had never even occurred to him to ask if the others also had those memories. One of them was a single, fleeting moment of terror…

Bakugo was towering over him at the neighborhood playground. It was night. No one else was there with them. No adults, no other kids. No witnesses. A manic glee sparked in the larger boy’s eyes as he flashed his quirk, the sparks lighting up his evil grin from below. This is where the lines would be crossed. If Daku didn’t die here, then surly something disastrous would occur.

Bakugo’s fist glowed red as he lunged toward the cowering boy. Deku threw up his arms. The explosion knocked him backward, pain rocketing through him from his burned forearms. He coughed from the smoke and gasped, pushing himself to his feet and stumbling several feet away. He thought Bakugo would chase him, but the boy stood still, shocked.

Staring at…Deku’s arms.

Deku lifted his throbbing arms. They looked deformed. At first, he thought the explosion had torn his skin wide open and blackened it to an ashy gray. But then he turned them, and he could see where Bakugo’s quirk had eaten through the black material to singe his skin underneath. It was as though his skin had hardened somehow and expanded on the edges to make two small shields, to protect him.

What in the hell…?

As both of them watched, the black material fell away to the ground and Deku’s skin smoothed over, the harsh red of his burns changing to pink and then tan healthy skin. Deku’s arms were unharmed and perfectly fine once more.

Deku looked to Bakugo again and found the older boy searching around them, looking for whoever had cast their quirk on Deku to protect him. But Deku didn’t care. He ran before his bully could recover from his shock and give chase.

It did not occur to Deku then that he might have a quirk. Or perhaps it did, and he had forgotten in the cage. Obviously, it had occurred to Bakugo, who couldn’t seem to keep his big mouth shut about it.

That meant the entire tragedy that was Deku’s life was all his fault.

“You saw me,” Dragon hissed, pointing a claw at Bakugo. “You saw me transform. And you told someone.” He bared his sharpened teeth and narrowed his eyes. “Who did you tell?”

For a moment, Bakugo bit his lip, looking almost…guilty? Then his expression hardened. “I told a detective after your mother was killed. I swear, that’s the only person.”

Another memory surfaced:

Deku was in a too-bright and too-small room, surrounded by adults he did not know. He was more terrified than he could remember being in a long time. A terror unlike life-or-death, but something creeping and far more disastrous. It was the feeling of his world crumbling around him.

Do you have a quirk, boy?

No…no, I don’t, I…

That’s okay if you don’t know. We have ways of bringing it out…

Dragon shuddered and shoved the memories back down. He didn’t want the others to see them. They weren’t as strong as him.

Because while the Hound used his fear and instincts to escape dangerous situations, Dragon was fear incarnate. He held it close and nurtured it. He used it back at people as his weapon. And that meant he was the only one who could handle the fear sitting like a giant upon their shoulders.

That meant he was the most afraid of them all. And that made him very, very angry.

He advanced on Bakugo and the larger boy actually backed up, away from the door. “Who did you tell?” Dragon hissed in a dark whisper. “I want a name.”

Bakugo scoffed. “I don’t remember! That was six years ago. I was just a little kid!”

“I don’t believe you!”

Bakugo stopped backing up. His expression turned suddenly glinty. “Who are you?”

“What?” Dragon stopped, his claws lowering a few inches. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean if you’re Oshiro. I already know that’s a scam. I want to know who you are.” He gestured to Deku’s claws and face. “You sound and act like someone else entirely. You have green and blue scales all over you, your eyes look like a snake, and you have freaking claws. I thought your quirk was supposed to be only one part of your body at a time. What is all this? Who are you?”

Dragon snorted, letting the accusations roll off him like hot beads of water. “You don’t know anything. I’m Dragon. I keep Deku safe.”

Bakugo didn’t say anything for a long second. Finally, he asked, “And is Deku in danger now?”

Dragon hesitated. Deku was in danger every minute of every day. But in honesty? No, he didn’t actually think Bakugo was a danger to them. The other boy just pissed him the fuck off.

“Where have you really been?” Bakugo asked when Dragon didn’t answer. His voice was pitched low enough that Dragon had to strain to hear him. It was almost like Bakugo was asking the question to himself. “What happened to you? You’re the same and yet…different. Like you’re different right now. Who… did this to you?”

Dragon snarled. Red fury burned at the edges of his vision. He smacked his open palms against Bakugo’s chest, making the larger boy stumble backward. He didn’t bother sheathing his claws. He wanted the boy to feel pain, to know in a visceral way exactly what he had done.

In the back of his mind, he saw Dabi’s face, doing the same to him. But that didn’t matter right now.

“Look in a goddamn mirror, you insufferable prick!” Dragon hissed. “You did this! That stupid idiot kid. But it’s like you said, you’re different. You’re not…him, anymore…”

Dragon trailed off, suddenly lost in thought as he carefully watched Bakugo’s expression. The larger boy hadn’t done anything to retaliate, as he certainly would have years prior. He would have pounded Deku’s face in the dirt for touching him at all. But this boy only watched him with cold, calculating eyes, clutching his chest where a dark stain began to bloom through his shirt. He didn’t seem too concerned with the injury.

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway. “This again?”

Oh course it had to be freaking Shinso once again standing in the doorway. Aizawa’s little spy. This time around, however, the purple-haired boy stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “I think we should talk.”

Chapter 19: Deku gets interrogated

Suddenly it was two people against one, and Dragon didn’t feel in control anymore. He wanted to rage and spit and claw his way to freedom because Deku was afraid, which meant he needed Dragon to get him out of this.

Except there was no one to fight. The two boys each stepped toward him with determination, not malice. He had pushed his luck enough tussling with Bakugo, but the other one? He didn’t want to hurt Shinso, and he especially didn’t want him running off to tattle to Aizawa.

No, Dragon wasn’t the right quirk to get Deku out of this. He needed someone sociable like Rat or even Angel.

With that single, tiny thought, Dragon was gone. He vanished back to his underwater cave to simmer until needed again. Deku staggered as Dragon’s characteristics vanished in a shiver, like cold water drenching him only to leave him completely dry the next instant. He hadn’t gotten angry enough to show off the dragon all that much. None of his transformations were pleasant to experience, however, and all of them had side effects. Deku felt like a fish coughed onto a beach, already dead and dried out from the sun. His skin ached.

“What was that?” asked Hitoshi, taking a startled step backward.

Deku felt his mind slot back into place, but wrong, somehow. Something didn’t quite fit the way it should. He absently scratched at his arm where the skin itched badly. “Huh?”

Everything looked and sounded far away. The room was bigger than before, he was sure of it. Had he used Rat’s power? No, he didn’t think so. He wasn’t Rat right now. Then who?

Who was he supposed to be now?

Thanks to the doctor’s most recent…changes, it was a long road back from using his quirks, and part of him felt lost along the way.

“You gonna answer him or what?” Bakugo snarled as he crossed his arms. “Do tell us what the hell just happened.”

“That, um…” Deku bit his lip, trying to recall what they were talking about. “That was Dragon. Only Dragon…I think…”

Both of them were staring at him strangely. “What?” he heard himself demand.

“You’re bleeding,” Bakugo told him in a neutral voice, his true emotions hidden under a blank slate.

Deku’s tongue darted out, tasting iron on his lips. They were dry enough that biting them had broken right through. He felt the blood well up and start to drip down his chin. “Oh.”

“Idiot.”

Bakugo marched forward and set his sleeve under Deku’s chin, stopping the bleeding. “You’re going to ruin your uniform.”

Instinct had Deku trying to duck away, but his reflexes were way too short of the quota at the moment. Bakugo easily held him with a firm grip on his upper arm. “Make yourself useful, candy-hair, and grab the tissues from the teacher’s desk.”

“You’re bleeding too, dumbass…” Shinso muttered as he slumped away.

Deku heard himself say, “Dragon’s not so bad. I’m fine…”

“You’re not,” Bakugo informed him haughtily. “I am literally holding you up right now, you fucking twig. Have you eaten once since we were kids? Jeez.”

Shinso returned with an actual first-aid hit. Bakugo scowled but took the freshly unpackaged gauze the other boy offered him and pressed it into Deku’s limp hand. He held Deku’s fist in his own until he was sure the gauze wouldn’t be dropped to the floor, then let go. “Hold that to your face. I’m not your babysitter.”

Deku did as he was told. He felt dizzy. His vision witted out a little and next he knew, he was sitting in a desk chair, the other two boys hovering over him.

“Is this your quirk’s doing?” Bakugo demanded at Hitoshi, who shook his head.

“I haven’t used it. I won’t without his permission.”

“You had no problem using it on me.”

“That was different. I was concerned you would attack him.”

“Well, he attacked me this time around. Does that justify anything?”

Hitoshi rolled his eyes. Ignoring the jibe, he instead asked Deku, “Who’s this Dragon guy? Is he like the other one?”

“The…other one?” Deku wondered. “Which one?”

Hitoshi blinked. “I meant the one I spoke to outside UA. There are more?”

“Well, there’s Dragon and Rat, and there’s Angel…”

Deku chewed on the gauze as he thought. There were more, but he didn’t want to bring those up. A sudden surge of clarity shot through him, and he bolted upright in his seat. What the hell was he saying???

“Oh! Ah…” Deku desperately scrambled for an explanation. “They’re just parts of my quirk, I swear!”

Bakugo’s scowl deepened, if that were at all possible. “Did we say they weren’t?”

Deku’s mouth moved, but apparently, his brain had decided he’d said enough because all that emerged was a panicked squeak. He cleared his throat. “No?”

Instead of responding, Hitoshi shoved a second unpackaged gauze at Bakugo’s chest. The blond took it wordlessly and pressed it to the bloodstains on his shirt.

“Kozue,” Hitoshi said finally, slowly, as though he wouldn’t understand otherwise, “You said last week that you would explain everything. I think it’s long past time for it.”

“Everything…?” I don’t remember saying that!

“We already know your quirk is sentient. You don’t have to pretend it’s not.”

Deku sputtered. “It’s not-! I’m not pretending…” he tried to explain, but both the other boys shot him down with equal looks of exasperation.

“Hiding, then,” continued Hitoshi. “Why are you lying to the teachers about this? The whole class? We should all know the extent of everyone’s powers.”

Deku gnawed at his gauze, trying to dream up something to satisfy their curiosity. The best lies are rooted in truth, Shigaraki taught him. “I watched a lot of nature documentaries after being given…after I had discovered my quirk,” Deku began. The others listened intently, and he knew he couldn’t just feed them nothing. “It’s lonely at my relative’s house, they aren’t home a lot of the time. I guess I didn’t have anything better to do than experiment, and I came up with different people I could be, different looks…” He shrugged. “A few of them just stuck around, I guess.”

Bakugo tapped his foot in thought. Hitoshi wore a concerned frown. “Relatives? I thought you lived with your parents.”

Deku swallowed. “Oh. I, ah, call them that sometimes. We aren’t close, really.” He shot a look at Bakugo, urging him with his eyes to stay silent. The larger boy opened his mouth, then closed it, having thought better of whatever he wanted to say.

Hitoshi set his mouth suspiciously. “So these different looks…one of them was the one I spoke to on Friday? Outside the school?”

“Yeah. That was Rat. He’s the intellectual.”

“So these are different people in your head? Like separate personalities?”

Deku waved him off, laughing nervously. “Of course not! It’s all just…just me.”

Neither of the other boys looked convinced. “Can we talk to that one?” asked Bakugo. “You called him what? A rat?”

“Not a rat. Rat. And I can’t, right now.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

Deku shifted uncomfortably. “I just can’t, okay? He’s…he’s not around right now.”

“So,” Bakugo said, narrowing his eyes “your quirk is sentient.”

“That- it’s not what you-”

“Kozue,” Hitoshi cut him off. “That’s fine. Plenty of people have sentient quirks – it doesn’t have anything to do with your character or inner strength or shit like that. Or would you think less of someone like Tokoyami for his Dark Shadow quirk?”

Deku lowered his gaze to where his hand not holding the bandage played with a uniform button. “No…”

“Okay. So, that being said, we need to know about these other personalities and how they operate. It’s a vital part of the hero field so we can fully rely on each other. Don’t you agree?”

Hitoshi bent down as he spoke, forcing Deku to meet his eyes. He looked…tired and sad and determined all at once, all of it focused on Deku.

The guilt sunk in its claws.

Deku knew he would eventually have to betray these people. He’d known from the very beginning. He had kept it to the back of his mind, pushing it further and further into the dark the more he grew to know the other students and the teachers. But now, in that moment of space between him and Hitoshi, it was the only thing he could feel.

He was a traitor.

Hitoshi must have seen something of the darkness in Deku’s expression. He drew back just the tiniest bit. “Kozue?” he asked, perhaps half-expecting someone else to emerge.

“Y-yeah,” Deku said, grimacing at the mess-up. “Yeah. I, um…” He turned away, suddenly unable to look at anyone right now. “I’ll tell you, okay?  But, but maybe give me some time? I feel like I just got here and things are happening so fast…I just need to sort out some things first, I think.”

A voice that sounded a lot like Angel hissed in his head, Liar!

He would never tell them. He would put off the conversation until it was too late. He was a traitor. He had no choice. Dogs didn’t have choices except to obey or be whipped.

Only a little while longer now…

 

--

 

Thankfully, the bell soon rang, halting all attempts at prying more information from Deku. The day went by in a blur of terror. He managed to stay close enough to Shinso and Bakugo to be sure neither pulled a teacher aside to spill his secrets. It wasn’t much of a reassurance, considering they could easily call a teacher after school. But the hope was better than nothing.

They stuck close to Deku, too, as if offering some strange kind of moral support. They found out he lied to them, and their reaction was the total opposite of what they should be doing. They should be throwing water in his face, screaming at him, ranting about his lies to the teachers. But they only stood by him closer than ever.

It made Deku sick to his stomach.

The only incident happened at the end of the day, when they were all sweaty and panting from the mile run Aizawa made them do for cooldown. Hitoshi probably didn’t think anyone noticed him stepping over to their mentor and saying something quietly by his ear. Deku wasn’t able to catch it over his own heavy breathing, however, he lip-read two very important words:

“Quirk” and “Wrong.”

Fear like freezing ice crackled along Deku’s skin. He could hardly breathe as he watched Aizawa nod the tiniest bit in response. Quickly, Deku ducked his head before they could see him watching them, pretending to observe the dirt as his breath stuttered in and out of his chest.

What had Shinso said? That there was something wrong with his quirk, or wrong with him?

Aizawa did his best to pretend nothing had changed when they returned home that evening. No, not home. Deku had to stop thinking of it that way. His home was back on that ratty couch being comforted by Toga, even if that comfort came after hours of tortuous education. He was better under Sensei’s careful instruction. He wouldn’t learn anything from heroes, not when they were so focused on their own safety and that of the public. Nothing would change with these pathetic do-gooders running the show.

Only one more day….and then everything about this broken world would be fixed. Deku’s purpose in this life would be complete.

 

 

 

The voice telling him these things sounded more and more like Shigaraki every day.

Notes:

I have been the busiest ever in my life right now, but things are expected to slow down in the summer. I like to be a few chapters ahead to keep track of the story, but unfortunately I have run out. The story will probably be on a short break until May when I will have a few backup chapters again. I will publish sooner if that happens. Think of this as the end of Part 1, and Part 2 will start up again soon.

In the meantime, I hope you have a wonderful spring! Stay frosty out there

Chapter 20: Deku has a field trip

Notes:

I have returned!

I loved vacation so much that I got food poisoning and threw up all over it. Sorry for the delay to Deku's suffering and pain. Enjoy :)

Opening his eyes to a bright sunny morning, Deku felt…nothing.

No anger. No resentment. No fears.

Oh, his body certainly felt those things. He knew it in the way his hands kept cramping into fists, the way his heart wouldn’t slow down no matter how many deep breaths he took, like Toga had taught him. He hadn’t really slept at all, considering he could remember tossing and turning the whole night in a lucid, half-nightmare, half-awake state. It didn’t help that the waking half was also a nightmare.

Now it was time to get up, and Deku refused to feel anything. Angel thrummed under his skin, Dragon ached behind his teeth, and Rat sat at the front of his mind, expectant. The Hound ran circles in his chest, and even Nightmare was ready and waiting somewhere beneath his fingernails and throbbing in his joints. It was the closest they’d been since his recent return from the doctor. They felt everything that Deku refused to feel, just like they were supposed to.

Soon, however, he needed to release them. He wasn’t strong enough to handle the crashing waves of emotions that roiled under the surface. Luckily for him, today was the day of his next and likely final assignment.

Deku knew Sensei had no other purpose for him past the destruction of All Might and, with him, the fabric of hero society. They no doubt planned to use him in the fight until he was broken. Hell, he was practically broken already. Whatever Deku might have felt about that, he shoved down, feeding it to the Nightmare like a scrap of meat and quickly shutting the door. It didn’t matter what happened to him, because the punishment for fleeing would be so much worse than death.

Deku got up and dressed for classes as though nothing had changed. And nothing had. It was all according to plan. All he needed to do was dodge the inevitable questions his teachers and classmates would come up with today. He’d mostly succeeded in batting his eyes at Hitoshi and Bakugo yesterday, fending off their demand for explanations. When he’d returned home with Aizawa, however…

The front door shutting made Deku jump. He’d been tense all day, and now everything set off his nerves. Something about that sound made him even more afraid. It was too slow and deliberate. Deku turned to see Aizawa still holding the door handle, staring at his student contemplatively. Fear jumped into Deku’s throat, and he tried to swallow it back down.

“…Mister Aizawa?”

The man released the door handle. He stood taller, leaning back against the door and crossing his arms to avoid leering over his student. “You and I. We need to talk.”

“Now?”

“Yes. Now.”

“Okay. Sure.”

Aizawa made a vague waving motion at Deku. “See now, that’s part of what I want to discuss. You’ve been acting and talking differently since last week. You’re almost – almost – like a completely different person standing here. Does this have anything to do with your quirk being sentient?”

Deku reeled backward a step. “It’s not what you… whatever Shino told you, I swear it’s not-”

Aizawa’s dramatic sigh cut him off. “Look, kid. Shino didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, alright? He’s worried about you. Bakugo is too, even if he won’t tell me anything regarding what’s happening.”

“What’s happening,” Deku mouthed in response. He clamped his jaw against saying anything and waited for what would happen next.

“Kid?” Aizawa asked, frowning. He leaned down and forward, trying to get a good look at Deku’s face. “Something is happening, isn’t it?”

Deku refused to meet his eyes. He shook his head mutely, not trusting himself to lie aloud and make it believable. The two of them stayed that way for an unbearably long minute. Then his teacher said, “Okay, Kozue. Okay. I believe you.”

Deku was so startled, he jerked his head up, meeting the steady gaze of his teacher. That alone made him startle a second time, backing away another step. “Y-you do?”

He winced at the expected punishment for the stutter, but his teacher only gave a slow nod. “Yeah. I do. Trust has to start somewhere. But can we both admit you’ve kept us in the dark regarding your quirk?”

Ouch. That overly-patient tone hurt almost as badly as the lashing of a whip. Deku bit his lip, wishing he had Rat here to get him out of this. But Rat wasn’t allowed to interact with Aizawa anymore. One of his special instructions from the doctor. That, and no more switching up on people in the middle of conversations.

“I’ve been…I…I mean I haven’t…”

What was he supposed to say? He was a terrible liar, but it wasn’t like he could tell the truth.  

“Kozue, I need you to be honest with me. This is very important. Is your quirk hurting you somehow? Threatening you?”

It was so out of the park from the questions Deku expected, he jumped. “Oh, no! I swear they’re nice! Most of them…”

He slapped a hand over his mouth, all the blood leaving his face as he realized what he’d just admitted. Aizawa’s eyes widened a fraction, and that was enough to send Deku spiraling. He twisted around and sprinted for his room, the only place in the world he felt safe – the only place no one had ever hurt him. He ignored Hizashi’s enthusiastic hello from the kitchen and shut his room. He hid under his bed and ignored Aizawa’s soft voice beyond the door: “It’s alright, kid. I already knew. There’s nothing to be afraid of. We just want to help you.”

Deku expected an invasion upon his sanctuary at any moment, but the man never opened the door. He left and came back an hour or so later, saying, “there’s a tray of food by the door. I’ll come back in a little while to check on you. If it’s not gone by then, I’ll assume the worst and come inside.”

It wasn’t supposed to be a threat. Still, Deku didn’t want anyone invading his safe place, so he cracked open the door once his teacher had left and dragged the tray inside. The smell made him almost vomit right there.

Peanut noodle soup.

That smell sent him back to the cage, eating salty bagged peanuts and overly-sweet granola bars as his only sustenance. He hugged his knees and keened and rocked himself through the flashback. Then he stumbled to the bathroom when the adults in the kitchen weren’t paying attention to him and flushed the soup down the toilet alongside his stomach bile.

The memories made Deku grimace. His stomach twisted painfully, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, and barely that. He wasn’t sure he could eat anything this morning, except that he knew he needed the sustenance. The plans for today were bigger than a little setback like a fussy stomach would allow.

Sighing, Deku reached for the handle to his room, mentally steeling himself to lie away whatever he had said to Aizawa last night. It hadn’t been that bad, right? Aizawa had said through the door that he already knew…

Deku’s legs felt like peanut brittle as he walked into the kitchen. Aizawa was doing the dishes, cleaning up from breakfast. Hizashi sat at the table on his computer, drinking coffee. Both men were in the opposite place than usual, making Deku pause and blink his eyes, wondering if they were playing a trick on him. Hizashi looked up from his mug and offered Deku a brilliant smile.

“Morning there, little listener!”

Deku made a vague wave in return. Aizawa looked over his shoulder at him, hands still scrubbing away at the dishes. “Good morning, Kozue. Those onion pancakes on the table are for you, and there’s more in the fridge if you want them. Eat as much as you can. We have a field trip today.”

The smell made Deku’s stomach release a long, low groan. Ducking his head in embarrassment, he began devouring the pancakes, trying to suppress the rising nausea.

A field trip today.

They continued in a peaceful silence for a little while, Deku eating, Hizashi reading on his computer, and Aizawa finishing cleaning. Then the sounds of water stopped, and, drying his hands, Aizawa came over to the table and sat down. Deku immediately stopped eating and set his hands in his lap, staring at the abandoned chopsticks sullenly.

Aizawa began, making no preamble about what he wanted to say.

“You’ve been running away from us a lot, kid,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’ve been trying to respect your space, because you're practically still a stranger to us, but your behavior is decidedly concerning.”

He paused, fingers tapping away on the table in thought. He and his husband exchanged looks, the meaning behind it uninterpretable. He continued: “We aren’t your parents or guardians. However, because we’ve been unable to contact them, we’ve decided to step in until that comes to pass. That means you won’t be returning home for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh,” was all Deku could think to say. He felt oddly ashamed. This was all his fault, after all.

Aizawa set his mouth. “’Oh’ isn’t the kind of response a well-adjusted teenager would say. Don’t you see why we’re concerned? A well-adjusted teenager would be furious at that. You should want to go home and study or play video games, or whatever else kids your age like to do. But you don’t do those things. I’ve spoken with a few of the other students in your class. I know more about current social media trends than you, and I don’t even have one.”

At every word, Deku sank further and further into his seat. He knew he shouldn’t care about this conversation. It didn’t matter in light of Sensei’s timeframe. Part of him, however, (probably the Angel part) desperately wanted to please his teacher. He wanted to be a normal teenager. He swore he did.

“That being said, after school today, you and I will sit down with Principal Nezu and talk. Actually talk, about your quirk. No more running away. Do you understand?”

Deku sniffed, resisting the urge to wipe his nose on his sleeve. He nodded sullenly.

“Can I get a real response, please?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

Aizawa sighed through his nose, once again looking to his husband.

“You aren’t in trouble,” Hizashi added. Rather uselessly, Deku thought.

Of course, he was in trouble.

The husbands were oddly cheery on the way to school that morning. Hizashi commented about new donut shops and renovations around the city, and Aizawa grunted in response. Neither of them expected Deku to partake in the conversation, and that was possibly the kindest thing they could have done.

Everyone got suited up in their hero outfits for the rescue practice field trip. Deku and a few other students didn’t have theirs, so they suited up in the school’s tactical gear. The more he got dressed, the more constricted he felt, until his breath stuttered in and out of his lungs and sweat gathered on his neck. He swallowed convulsively against the sudden heat.

Get it together, he thought furiously. The suit isn’t even tight!

“Let me help you with that, idiot,” said a voice so subdued that Deku didn’t recognize it as Bakugo’s until the much taller boy stepped over to him. He pushed aside Deku’s hands, where he had repeatedly failed to line up the zipper for the front vest. Bakugo did up the zipper, then pulled Deku’s shirt down at the bottom, straightening it like a father straightening his son’s suit before a first date. “If you told us what was wrong,” Bakugo continued, “maybe we could actually help you. It’s not like that’s what we’re training to do or whatever.”

Behind him, Hitoshi’s purple hair reflected off the locker room tiles. Both of them had been sticking concernedly close for the last few days. Todoroki, Tokoyami, and Kirishima, too, but for what reason, Deku did not know. Possibly, they felt some kinship to Bakugo for his blunt nature and abundance of confidence. That had been what originally drew Deku to him. Some of the boys were more shadows than actual participants in any conversation, though even Tokoyami gave Deku encouraging dips of his head whenever they came face-to-face. It was as though the group had silently decided to be his pillars on every side.

Deku didn’t know what he did to deserve this. It should have been encouraging that people thought highly of him. It made Deku feel like shit. He would have to ditch them all soon after entering the location.

“Are you ready?” Bakugo asked, to which Deku nodded and said,

“Absolutely!”

Chapter 21: Dragon takes a dip

Notes:

Another!

“So I was thinking,” said Tsu, sitting next to Deku on the bus, “that your quirk is kinda like Shoji.”

Deku sat upright in his seat. “Oh?” He looked over to the tall student near the back of the bus, eyes closed in what was probably mock sleep, all six arms crossed over his chest.

“Don’t you think so?” The frog-girl placed her finger on her chin in thought. “I guess there are lots of transformation quirks out there, but so far, you’re the only two I know about in our class.”

“Sure,” Deku replied, his mind only half focused on the conversation. “I mean, he can change certain parts of his body that I can’t, and the opposite is true for me as well. Other than that, I suppose it’s similar...”

It wasn’t, but Deku had found that lying was easier when he didn’t sound confident in the first place. He glanced at his hands. Was it a lie? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know anything about his quirks other than what Sensei and Shigaraki forced him to practice. Maybe he could turn his hands into mouths and ears and such. Not that he wanted to try…

“Hey, I’m sitting right here!” Kirishima chimed in next to Tsu. He extended an arm to showcase his hardened skin like rock. “Just because my transformation isn’t as flashy as some others doesn’t mean it’s not cool!”

“Oh, sorry Kirishima,” Tsu said. “I forgot you transform, too.” She sighed. “It must be fun to have a quirk you can use whenever you want.” She held up her hands, slightly floppy at the wrists. “My frog quirk can never be turned off, ribbit. I don’t mind much, but sometimes I wish my tongue didn’t have a mind of its own.”

“I know what you mean…” Deku muttered.

Kirishima leaned over past Tsu and said, “Both of your quirks are cool! I wish mine was more visible, you know? All the popular pro heroes have quirks that are fun to show off.”

Deku replied, “I think your quirk is awesome.” He would have done anything to have a single, helpful quirk like Kirishima’s. Fun was the last thing on his list of priorities.

“You think so?” Kirishima examined his hardened skin, as if noticing something he hadn’t before. “I guess it’s pretty useful most of the time.” He motioned with his head toward the back of the bus. “But if anyone’s going to be a pro hero, it’s Bakugo and Todoroki. Their quirks are the right kinds of powerful and flashy combined.”

Tsu scoffed. “Bakugo is too angry all the time. He’ll never be popular.”

“What did you say, frog legs?” Bakugo barked from his seat. “I’ll eat you for lunch!”

“See?” Tsu said. “I rest my case, ribbit.”

A slight smile crept over Deku's mouth as he listened to Kirishima, Kaminari, and Tsu poke fun at Bakugo for his over-the-top reactions. It was nice to see Bakugo getting teased for a change. Deku knew he exaggerated his reactions to entertain their classmates. Deku had seen this new Bakugo display an abundance of patience and remorse over the last few days, something the older Bakugo never would have been capable of.

The smile faded when Deku remembered his mission. By the end of the day, Bakugo would likely go back to hating him, probably even worse this time. If he even survived. Bakugo would lose all progress and revert to an angry, vengeful child, and it would be Deku's doing.

Deku didn’t speak for the rest of the ride.

“Welcome!” said the lady in the white marshmallow suit, “to the unforeseen simulation joint! Or you can call it the USJ.”

Unforeseen indeed, Deku thought bitterly as the hero continued explaining the building to them. It was downright impressive what they’d managed to build. Only two weeks ago, he never would have imagined stepping into a space so large. He should be used to the abundance of resources these heroes seemed to have by now, yet it still amazed him.

Shigaraki would hate this. He wanted to drag everything not made for him to the ground.

I can’t do this!

Who was it that screamed from the depths of his mind? Deku’s hands began to shake, and his vision whitened out for a second. He stood still through the overwhelming panic that suddenly infused his body. In that moment, he was certain he couldn’t go through with this. He would rather die than be hated by his friends. He would endure whatever torture Shigaraki had planned especially for him.

And then, just as quickly as it started, the feeling passed. Deku took a deep, shuddering breath for the first time in almost a minute and stopped shaking. Rat’s cool composure washed over him, even if Rat couldn’t come out right now.

Deku would do his job. It was his life’s purpose to obey Sensei.

And besides, he was an abomination. All these so-called heroes would abandon him the moment they learned the truth about his powers. He wasn’t meant to exist. He was meant to do his job and then disappear.

He tried to do just that, turning away from Hitoshi’s too-knowing eyes drilling into the side of his head. The purple-haired boy didn’t bother asking if Deku was alright. He knew all that would come out was lies.

Aizawa walked over to speak with pro hero Thirteen. Deku sharpened his hearing just enough to catch their conversation-

“Shouldn’t All Might be here already?”

“Actually…” Thirteen stepped forward to speak more quietly, “he did too much hero work this morning and used all his powers. He’s resting in the hero lounge at school until he’s powered back up.”

She held up three fingers as she spoke. What did that mean? A time limit? Three special moves?

Deku reeled at the new information. All Might wouldn’t be coming? He had used up too much power, she’d said. And Deku knew that All Might had a secret form, similar to the way Deku did. So that was how he looked while out of power?

All these questions made his head spin. But one thing he knew for certain now: Shigaraki’s plans were in the gutter.

This changed everything. And at the same time, it changed nothing. Shigaraki was still on his way.

Deku opened his mouth to interrupt Thirteen, now talking to the students about using one’s powers to save people rather than to fight. No words emerged from his too-dry throat. What should he do now?

“…Kozue?” Hitoshi asked quietly. “What’s going on with you?”

Deku looked at him sideways, sweat gathering at his temples to fall down his cheek and drip from his chin. He swallowed. “I…um…”

The lights along the inside of the domed ceiling flickered, then went out. Deku caught sight of a purple haze slowly overtaking the fountain at the center of the building.

Too late. Whatever was going to happen, Deku couldn’t do anything about it now.

Aizawa immediately sensed the danger and wheeled around. He held out an arm to the band of curious teenagers starting to advance on the strange sight.

“Don’t move! Thirteen, protect the students!”

Figures began to emerge from the growing darkness. Deku recognized Shigaraki in the middle, standing beside a huge, hulking black body. He recalled the exposed red brain from the doctor’s lab and thought he might be sick. That must be Shigaraki’s special project, meant to beat All Might. But if All Might wasn’t here, what damage would that creature do instead?

“Has the training started already?” asked Kirishima. “I thought we weren’t fighting anyone.”

“Stay back!” Aizawa shouted. “This is real. Those are villains.” There was genuine panic in his voice under that air of command.

Deku had done this. He had made his teacher afraid.

“So you used the press to sneak onto campus,” Aizawa muttered under his breath. Deku flinched at his words.

“What? Real villains?” Kirishima demanded. “How could they sneak onto a facility this secure?”

No one answered. Deku kept his gaze trained on the growing pool of villains below them, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Hitoshi watching him. And past him, Bakugo was looking between Hitoshi and Deku, trying to understand the situation. If only they knew it was so much worse than what they suspected.

Yaoyorozu jumped in, “Hey Thirteen, why aren’t the alarms going off?”

“That’s a good question,” said the rescue hero, looking around at the darkened building. “It’s possible they have a quirk among them that’s causing the interference. Quick, we need to get to the exit!”

Just as the group began to turn toward the door they had arrived by not ten minutes prior, a dark purple shape shimmered in the air between them and the exit. Kurogiri’s face appeared amongst the swirling mass.

“Hello, children,” he said.

Then, the kids around Deku began to scream as their whole world was encased in purple. Deku closed his eyes tightly and clenched his stomach to prepare for that awful tug. It lifted him up off his feet and pulled him through the vacuum of space. He gasped as he emerged, nothing under his feet to support himself. He pinwheeled his arms. He was falling, falling, falling…

Then, splash!

Deku opened his eyes just in time to witness the expanse of water enclose around him. Then, he immediately began to sink.

NO NO NO!

Nothing so far had gone to plan like Deku had been told. He was supposed to be taken to a secure location where he could transform, not the freaking water!

Unless…

Maybe Shigaraki wanted Dragon after all. It was the only thing that made sense. Either let Dragon take over or drown. Not much of an option there.

Deku quickly allowed the smooth sensation of Dragon’s scales to wash over him. It would burn and itch like hell when they melted away, but for now, they were a welcome barrier from the chill water. The water was Dragon’s happy place. Though he lacked a tail, his whole body was lithe and flexible. He easily kicked out with his elongated feet and rose toward the surface.

Sensing a shift in the water, Dragon turned to find a man with a shark quirk approaching him head-on, all his many teeth bared to bite. Dragon snorted out a torrent of bubbles. Didn’t these idiots know which side they were supposed to attack?

Dragon bared his equally sharp teeth and prepared for an easy fight. Then out of nowhere, Tsu rocketed through the water, slamming feet-first into the shark-guy’s face and sending him flying. Tsu and Dragon faced one another. Dragon grinned at her, trying to scare her off. He didn’t want to hurt Tsu, but he wasn’t afraid of ruffing her up a little.

Tsu didn’t seem to notice the threat. She motioned toward the surface and began to swim. Dragon followed. He could stay underwater longer without needing air, but curiosity got the better of him. He sped up and emerged at the surface alongside the frog girl. He opened his mouth to threaten her when she immediately cried out:

“Wow, Kozue! That’s some quirk you have!”

Dragon stalled. “Ah…”

Crap. She knew it was him, which meant she’d seen him transform. He should have checked that he was alone in the water first. His body didn’t change so dramatically with Dragon as with the others, but he did look very different. Most of his hair was replaced by bluish-green scales, with only a strip of short green hair starting at his head and traveling down his back like a long mohawk. His nose and ears were reduced while his fingers and toes elongated into nasty claws. His sharp teeth fit together in a neat, intimidating sneer.

Then again, he’d kicked off his shoes, but he was still wearing his tactical suit from the school. It wasn’t that hard to put two and two together.

“I’m going to throw you up to the boat, okay?” Tsu said.

Before Dragon could ask how she intended to accomplish this, her tongue shot out of her mouth. The slimy appendage circled his body, wrapping him up tight. It hurled him out of the water with surprising strength and threw him to the deck. He sailed through the air and landed heavily, rolling to reduce any injuries.

“Glad you could join us.”

It was just his luck that Tsu was an exceptional rescuer. Two students were already waiting for Dragon on the boat. They were also some of the last people Dragon wanted to see right now.

Hitoshi and Kirishima.

Chapter 22: Dragon sucks at diplomacy

Notes:

Lets have some bonding time with Dragon (人◕ω◕)

Dragon was completely out of his element.

It wasn’t the lack of water on the boat. Dragon didn’t know what to do here. He wasn’t a tactical expert like Rat or a talker like Angel. He was a fighter, but here and now, he had no enemies. Could someone else replace him? None of the others seemed particularly eager to take control of the driver’s seat. He stood awkwardly on the deck, claws hanging at his sides, Deku’s too-big shirt and pants practically sagging off his lither frame.

Technically, he was there to fight the students. Dragon didn’t know if that was a good plan anymore.

“Kozue?” Kirishima asked. He turned toward Dragon from where he’d been watching the waters below. “Is that you?”

Dragon knocked on the side of his head, getting water out of his ear. “No. I’m Dragon.”

Kirishima opened his mouth in confusion, probably to ask if Tsu had accidentally pulled up one of their enemies instead of an ally. However much that might have been true, Hitoshi waved off the confusion.

“It’s Kozue. His quirk’s sentient. He’s someone else right now.”

“Sentient? But that’s…”

“Crazy” was what Kirishima was going to finish with. Looking at Dragon, he seemed to lose track of his words.

Dragon turned back toward the lake below them. A half dozen guys with water quirks had gathered near the boat's base. Dragon removed his soaking shirt and threw it to the side, readying himself to dive into the water.

“Woah there!” Kirishima said, grabbing Dragon’s arm to keep him on deck. “Are you that eager to kill yourself?”

Dragon snarled and jerked free the grip on his arm. “Don’t touch me!”

Kirishima held up his hands as he backed away. “Hey. Chill, man. I'm just trying to save your skinny ass.”

“You don’t know what’s at stake!” Dragon hissed at the redhead. “They will dismember us one by one, until All Might decides to show up. They don’t care how old you are! You’ll die!”

Hitoshi stepped forward and asked, “How much do you know about all this, Kozue? What’s going on?”

Dragon tried to hide his flinch with a bout of anger. “I know I don’t want my head smashed in. I’m Dragon, shitstain! I’m not that little wimp, or else I’d be pissing myself in a corner right now. Do you want to die so badly?”

“What’re we arguing about again?” said a croaking voice from below the boat’s side. Tsu came crawling up and onto the deck. Confused, she tilted her head at them, tongue sticking out of her mouth. “Don’t we have better things to fight?”

“Exactly!” cried Hitoshi and Dragon at once. They glared at one another.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Kirishima told Tsu.

“I’m over this.” Dragon turned toward the water. “I’m going to fight these rejects, and then I’ll rescue our teachers.”

Over at the USJ’s pavilion, Aizawa was single-handedly fighting off a crowd of villains. Thirteen remained near the entrance, having a tussle with Kurogiri. Shigaraki and his hulking secret weapon remained in the background, observing. They would play with their food and wait if All Might showed up. In the meantime, it was probably better that Dragon keep his cover and pretend to fight alongside his classmates.

He hoped so, anyway. If Shigaraki thought otherwise, Dragon might be dooming them all.

He gripped the edge of the railing as a shudder ran through him. Rat screamed from far away, like an echo down a long tunnel. Dragon couldn’t hear the words.

“…can’t fight all of them down there,” Hitoshi’s voice filtered in. “We need to come up with a plan. My quirk is useless underwater. The only reason these guys aren’t attacking is that we have the higher ground and they don’t know our quirks. If we blindly attack right now, we lose that advantage.”

Dragon knew his answer would decide if the purple-haired brat used his quirk to stop him. So, Dragon skipped the whole step and dove feet-first over the railing.

“Kozue, wait-!” Hitoshi cried, reaching out. His fingers refused to find purchase along the wet surface of Dragon’s scales. Dragon slipped through easily and plummeted

“Fuck!” Kirishima cried out, just as Tsu screamed, “Kozue, no!”

Too late. Dragon dove like a pencil toward the empty water near the very base of the boat. He targeted one of the nastier-looking opponents and, just as he was about to hit the water, kicked the side of the boat, angling his new projection toward the enemy. The poor bastard didn’t expect a thing.

Dragon wasn’t particularly strong or smart or large. He didn’t have a special power like the others, unless holding his breath for a long time counted. He didn’t have much to his name at all, and that gave him an even greater power.

Rage.

Dragon embraced rage like a friend, warm and comforting under his skin. Dabi had known this well. He’d used insults and jibes to stoke Dragon’s rage. Dragon learned to harness its power to his advantage, ignoring physical limitations to overwhelm opponents. He struck like lightning and slipped through his opponent's grips better than an eel.

One guy tried to grab Dragon’s wrist, and he yanked it out, using that momentum to spin up and sock his opponent in the jaw with his foot. Another fast swimmer crept up on his back. But Dragon was still spinning, and as he came around again, he slammed his fist hard onto the shark guy’s stupid head.

“Ouch!” shark-guy gurgled again, bubbles spewing from his mouth.

No claws. Yet. Dragon’s still wasn’t sure about Shigaraki’s new strategy. So long as he fended off this army of poorly trained hooligans underwater, maybe he’d get away with it.

People dropped into the water behind Dragon with two large whooshing sounds, followed by a third.

Damn it, had all three of the students jumped in to fight?!

Dragon couldn’t pay attention to them as more of Shigaraki’s horde converged on him from all directions. He dodged two sets of claws when an unexpected pair of teeth came up from behind and got him by the shoulder.

“I got you!” mumbled shark-guy triumphantly, digging in his teeth.

Damn if this dude wasn’t persistent. Dragon roared through the pain. He reached behind himself and grabbed shark-guy by the gills.

“Gawk!” shark-guy screamed, immediately letting go. Dragon flipped around and got the other gill in his grip, holding it there.

Had Dabi or Shigaraki had been watching, he wouldn’t have hesitated to rip this annoying shithead from ear-to-ear. He would have enjoyed watching the lifeless body drift slowly downward, followed by a bloody trail in the water. But the students were watching this time around. He tempered the rage somewhat and only mildly ripped the dude apart. Not enough to kill him instantly, but enough he swam away holding his bleeding face, a new fear in his eyes.

Someone got a hit on his back, and Dragon turned to face a new opponent, a red lady with tentacles coming off her head like a squid. The tentacles fanned out around him, blocking his exits. A black cloud of ink spread from behind her in the water to block his view.

Ewe. Gross.

Squid-girl took longer to beat than the other dude, but she went down with more satisfaction. Dragon wasn’t afraid to rip tentacles off in their fight. She had enough to spare.

Squid-girl finally ran off after getting a kick to the face. Around this time, Dragon realized he needed oxygen soon if he wanted to continue fighting. He could last hours if he didn’t move, but this was far from staying still. He was almost halfway to the bottom of the lake right now. He began to kick upward, reaching for the light above. Two large shadows blocked his way. 

One of them was a villain with webbed hands and feet and a quirk that grew spikes from anywhere on his body. He was currently aiming two directly at Dragon. The second shadow was Kirishima, chasing the guy down. He was much slower without any webbed feet, but as the villain turned to aim at Dragon, Kirishima caught up and socked him in the side. Spiky guy let out all his air bubbles in a gasp of pain.

Dragon continued swimming, remembering his own need for air. The light of the surface was slowly approaching. Almost there, almost there…

Something snagged Dragon’s leg. He looked down to see none other than shark guy below him with a grip on his ankle. He didn’t look so good, but Dragon recognized that glint in his eyes. This guy wanted revenge. Dragon snarled and kicked, and shark guy fought to pull him down. They tussled for less than thirty seconds, but it was thirty seconds too long.

Dragon felt a strain in his chest. His movements were slowing down. Shark-guy grinned triumphantly as he began to gain ground. He pulled Dragon further into the dark water, and Dragon could do nothing but reach for the fading light, the last of his bubbles dribbling up toward the surface.

Another shadow blocked his view. Dragon’s vision was fading, but he could just make out the outline of purple hair fanned out amidst the water.

Stupid Hitoshi wouldn’t be here, Dragon thought absently, his quirk’s useless underwater…

Someone grabbed onto his reaching hands and pulled. Shark-guy snarled from below and began pulling harder, swimming with all his might. Hitoshi was dragged along for a moment before he turned himself around, getting his feet below him. He jerked upward hard on Dragon’s hands, yanking him up and putting them at the same level in the water. Then Hitoshi kicked shark guy directly in the nose.

Dragon would have found the sight highly entertaining if he had any oxygen to spare. All he could do was float uselessly and watch Shark guy swim off holding a different part of his face, hopefully having learned his lesson.

Another tug. Hitoshi was struggling to haul Dragon toward the surface. Dragon wished he could help, but his vision was fading. He wanted to tell Hitoshi to let him go, save himself, but his body refused movement. He heard a gentle rushing in his ears. A back-and-forth whooshing, like the rocking of waves. He was certain it would be the last sound he ever heard.

Then, Dragon’s head broke the surface of the water. He didn’t know what to do at first or even what had happened. Someone shook him, and a voice shouted, “Breathe!” Oxygen burst into his lungs for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He coughed and sputtered while Hitoshi held him above the surface.

“Idiot,” Hitoshi scowled, sounding madder than Dragon had ever heard him. “You could’ve died!”

Dragon was too busy hacking out his lungs to rise to the jab. He was madder at himself. Hitoshi was right: Dragon’s job was to protect everyone, and his frustration had led them into even more danger. If he’d lost any more oxygen down there, Nightmare might have shown up and tried to solve the problem. That would’ve been a disaster for everyone.

Hitoshi was still scolding him in between gasps for air. Dragon ignored it. He would have made a snide remark about the pot lecturing the kettle, but he didn’t want to risk Hitoshi using his quirk. It would be a stupid thing to do while Dragon was trying to swim. Still, Hitoshi was the kind of moron who would do it and try to keep Dragon afloat all on his own, if he thought it would stop Dragon from what he was going to do next.

“Don’t you even think about it!” Hitoshi said, also looking at what held Dragon’s gaze. His grip tightened on Dragon’s arm. “Did you forget you almost drowned a few seconds ago? And you're bleeding badly. You need immediate medical attention-”

Hitoshi tried to touch the shoulder with a bite out of it, but Dragon snapped at him, making him draw back. Dragon hissed, long and low in his throat. He met Hitoshi’s eyes. The boy drew back further, seeing that rage that simmered there, likely to burn. He didn’t have to say a word for Hitoshi to know he was dangerous. A danger to him. A danger to everyone.

Without another sound, Dragon whipped around and sped toward the shore, to where his teachers currently fought for their lives. He heard a command to “stop!” behind him, but Hitoshi’s quirk couldn’t catch without a response. Dragon was much quicker than his friend in the water. By the time Hitoshi flailed his way into a pursuit, Dragon left him far, far behind.

Chapter 23: Angel wants a career change

Notes:

Soon...

 

...soon...

At the designated meeting spot, Dragon found a change of clothes. He quickly switched into padded black boots and pants, forgoing the too-big shirt. He hesitated with the rest of his assignment. He was compromised. And also late. He couldn’t possibly go out there now.

His hesitation lasted too long. Soon enough, a dark purple shadow glinted in the corner of his eye.

“What is the holdup?” Kurogiri hissed impatiently. “You were supposed to be dealing with the more problematic students from the inside.”

Dragon winced. “I was seen changing in the water. Dragon is compromised. I must become someone else.”

The mass of purple writhed with displeasure. “You stupid-! No, I’ll deal with you later. Being compromised doesn’t matter. None of what you’ve done in that school will mean anything if we can’t kill All Might today. You’ll be useless. You’re practically useless now!”

“All Might isn’t here!” Dragon said, holding out his arms to the huge space around them. “But I haven’t been seen attacking anyone yet. Dragon can stay known to them, and I can be someone else!”

“I don’t have time for this!” Kurogiri snapped. “I must deal with Thirteen and the remaining students by the door. Do whatever you want, so long as you help us fight. I’ll transport you into a battle where you can be helpful.”

“No,” Dragon said, holding up his hand to stop the transport villain from using his quirk. “Get me up as high as you can and let me fall. That way, I’ll be the most useful.”

Kurogiri snorted. “Well, if you’re trying to off yourself, I won’t complain. Just try to land on someone important, alright?”

With that, the purple swept him up by the legs and tossed him headfirst into its depths. Dragon was prepared this time around. He held tight to his stomach as his atoms were sucked through the portal and spat out on the other side. The darkness cleared to the whole of the USJ below him. Dragon spread his arms for a moment and enjoyed being in the air and free. It was a lot like being in water. Then Dragon sighed and gave in to the golden tug inside his chest.

I’m counting on you, Dragon hissed as he sank below the waves. You’re the only other one who can fight. Don’t you fucking screw this up!

Angel burst from Dragon’s skin with a loud hiss of steam, his heat burning off the water still on Dragon’s skin and hair. He spread out his arms as he changed. At first, it only mildly slowed his fall. As Angel’s feathers grew from his elongated arms with little pricks of pain, his fall gradually turned into a glide. The bite on his shoulder hadn’t healed with the change (that wouldn’t happen unless Nightmare came around) and the rush of air on the wound and use of that muscle for flying made it strain and spill out more blood than was probably healthy. Angel did his best to pretend the bite didn’t exist. He made a full circle of the USJ and observed the situation from above.

Little pockets of students were fighting all around the building. Most of them seemed to be doing perfectly fine on their own. Whoever Shigaraki recruited, they were far from professionals. They were likely bodies to stand behind once All Might showed – the most disposable of anyone on the streets with a bone to pick with a hero. Angel found that sad. These people should be Shigaraki’s allies and potential recruits. Instead, he sent them to die.

The hero Thirteen was engaging her quirk with Kurogiri. As Angel watched, a portal opened behind the hero, causing her to vacuum herself. It was a smart move on the villain’s part. Angel felt bad for her, sure, but it wasn’t like he knew her personally. Aizawa, on the other hand…

Anyone could see the underground hero was flagging. His punches were becoming slow and uncoordinated, even as they still took down villain after villain. Only a few were left standing around the hero. Unfortunately, those few included Shigaraki and his massive new pet. Shigaraki engaged Aizawa and landed a hit to his elbow. The underground hero’s arm was limp and lifeless as he jumped away.

Angel dove in that direction. He needed to get down there ASAP. But to do…what, exactly? Fight Aizawa? Angel scoffed at the idea. He couldn’t fight his teacher. That would be too immoral for him to even consider! But he couldn’t fight Shigaraki either. That was equally as dead-end of an option.

Angel pivoted. He flew toward the city section of the USJ instead, aiming toward a particularly familiar explosion in the middle of a tall building. He skirted the building twice, and by the second fly-by, the smoke had cleared enough for him to see Bakugo standing amidst a crowd of villains. Fortunately, they were all groaning at the high schooler's feet. Bakugo was grinning and punching one fist into the flat of his hand, clearly revving for more. Well, Angel would give him plenty.

“Aizawa’s in trouble!” Angel called. He wasn’t coordinated enough to land inside the torn-up building without damaging his wings, so he did his best with tight circles outside. “Hurry!”

“Huh?” Bakugo asked in his threatening voice. “Who the hell are-?”

He stopped when he noticed the direction Angel frantically gestured. His eyes widened when he saw the mess his teacher was in. “Go help him!” he yelled. He ran toward the missing wall of the building, and for a moment, Angel thought he wanted him to catch Bakugo. Bakugo didn’t aim for him, however, but jumped into the open air, hands letting off little explosions that slowed his fall toward the ground. Angel then did as ordered and swerved back toward the fight in the pavilion. Bakugo would have to catch up.

Angel needed a plan. He had to help save his teacher without appearing to do so. He plucked a few feathers as he neared the fight. He called out “it is I! Firebird!” and threw the feathers, which were sent flaming toward Aizawa’s head.

His strategy worked. Aizawa heard the warning and easily dodged the projectiles, putting an even greater distance between him and Shigaraki. He looked up with pain and confusion written over his face.

“Firebird?” he called. “What are you doing here?”

“Yes,” said Shigaraki. “Please do explain why you are here. I would dearly like to know!”

“I am here to end this battle!” Angel declared. “Let me do the honors of defeating the great Eraserhead, Shigaraki. I won’t let you down!”

His master snapped, “Yes, you will! Do as you’re told, runt, and go fight the students. Kill as many as you can before our work here is done!”

“I-” Angel began, but he was distracted by a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Aizawa lashed out with his scarf, now battered and torn from the day’s fighting. Angel turned his wings to the side and dodged the projectile. Unfortunately, he had flown too low and the tip of his wing clipped the floor of the pavilion. He spiraled up and into a tight circle. Then his bad shoulder buckled, and he completely lost control. He plummeted down, just managed to avoid the cement with a quick turn of his good wing, and landed with a dramatic slash! into the water of the lake.

Angel heard his counterparts groaning in the back of his head. Dragon’s the one who got that injury! He complained to them.

Angel was not a swimmer. He was more of a downer, actually. He might have switched back to Dragon immediately if Angel knew how to do that. This was the first he’d been himself since their visit to the doctor. And Angel never turned back, now that he thought about it. It was more like one of the others pulled control away from him like a child with a pointy stick.

“-elp!” he managed to gurgle just before his head sank below the surface.

Angel flailed his wings, but his feathers only dragged him down. Their lightness turned to lead weights in the water. His knobby legs and talons were equally useless. The light of the surface grew further and further away. He could distantly hear Aizawa yelling, but as time passed, no one dove into the water to help him. The more Angel struggled, the further he sank.

Not again! Angel groaned. I don’t want to become Nightmare!

The shadow was closer now than with Dragon. It took energy to keep the monster down, and Angel was far more physically exhausted. He stopped fighting the water and began to sink. It took all his effort just to keep the shadow from overtaking his mind. His vision faded to darkness.

A hand gripped one of Angel’s wings and began pulling him upward. The person struggled, and for a time the two stayed in place, not going either up or down. Then another, larger hand grabbed his other wing, and the group slowly began to rise. Something rubbery and strange wrapped around Angel’s middle and helped to pull him upward. That must be Tsu’s tongue, he realized. And that meant the others helping him were…

They broke the surface, and Angel greedily gasped in air. He could only cough and sputter while everyone holding him up guided him to the edge of the lake. He clung there with the small talons on his wings and tried to blink away the blackness.

“You need swimming lessons, ribbit,” Tsu said next to him in her cheery voice.

“Who is he?” asked Kirishima. “Another of Kozue’s morphs?”

“He’s-” Hitoshi began to say, then stopped himself. He continued in a frustrated voice, “I don’t know. He’s not wearing the school’s gear.”

Someone patted Angel’s back as he continued to cough. “Hey there, are you Kozue? And, ah, are you okay?”

The vision in Angel’s eyes cleared enough for him to make out the blurry red hair of Kirishima hovering over him.

No, not this! Angel was supposed to be keeping their cover!

He pushed the redhead away, dragging himself onto solid ground like a sopping blanket. A torrent of steam rose from him as his heat evaporated the water.

“Don’t touch me!” he scowled at the others when they tried to help. Then he recalled what they had done for him and quickly bowed his head. “Thank you for saving me. I am a creature of the sky, not the water. But I am not your ally. You three and I are destined for battle!”

Hitoshi all but rolled his eyes, also dragging himself onto the cement. “Three against one? Dude, you look like a wet rat. A housecat could take you out right now.”

Angel admitted he was less physically threatening while soaked in water. The feathers on his body clung to him in a rather unflattering fashion, and his wings were so heavy they dragged like twin tails on the ground behind him.

No matter. He would dry off soon, and then he could renew his efforts to thwart Shigaraki’s plan while pretending to do the opposite. Weaponized incompetence was Angel’s specialty.

“You are so cool, Eraserhead.”

Angel and the three students turned to see Eraserhead still surrounded by enemies, though fewer than before. Shigaraki was several meters away, picking himself up from being thrown there. He seemed unfazed at all the scrapes he’d endured in his fight.

“But don’t you think you’re out of your element?” Shigaraki continued. “You’re much better at attacking stealthily than fighting head to head. Despite knowing that, you didn’t hesitate to jump in at the behest of your students.”

Even while Shigaraki spoke, Eraserhead – exhausted and injured though he was – continued to fight off the villains attacking him. He used his quirk again and again to gain the upper hand. Soon enough, no one stood between the panting hero and the villain covered in disembodied hands, arms spread wide.

“You really are so cool, Eraserhead. I would expect nothing less from the best in the business. But you’ve made two mistakes: the first is showing your weakness. I know how to hit you where it hurts, now. The second mistake? I am not the final boss.”

A large shadow moved in the background. “Watch out!” Angel called. In all the chaos, he had forgotten about the doctor’s creation. The thing moved much, much faster than what should have been possible. Aizawa turned immediately at Angel’s warning, hair floating, eyes burning red with power. His quirk did nothing to slow the monster approaching.  

Angel expected to watch his teacher and caretaker for the last few weeks be crushed right before his eyes. It was exactly the thing Shigaraki would do to punish him: give him a tiny breath of freedom, then yank the leash back so hard he would never stray again. To Shigaraki, it would be as easy as sneering. Angel did not know if he could survive the betrayal.

The nomu did not touch Eraserhead, though it easily could have. It swept past him, coming straight at Angel and the three students.

“No!” Angel screamed. All he could think at that moment was this is my doing, and so he took the only option available. Flinging around his useless wings, he jumped before the monster’s path.

Somewhere far away, Angel heard Shigaraki chuckle, and he knew everything had played right into the villain’s hands.

Chapter 24: Angel gets grounded

Notes:

Got some violence in this one, just fyi

The monster gently grabbed Angel, considering its bulky size. A hand with strength comparable to All Might's snatched his wings and lifted Angel into the air. The creature seemed almost confused at first. It looked between Angel and Shigaraki, even glancing at Eraserhead nearby, as if searching for a command from any of them. No one dared to breathe.

“Let me go!” Angel commanded once he realized the monster was simply standing there, holding him. He somehow slipped one wing free of that massive grip and began flapping it around uselessly.

Shigaraki called out, “Make them suffer, my beautiful nomu! Drag it out until All Might decides to show his face!”

Snap.

The world slowed down. Everyone searched around them for the source of the loud cracking sound. Seemingly, nothing and no one had moved.

Then Angel looked up to see his wing angled in the wrong direction in the Nomu’s grip. With the tiniest flick of the wrist, the monster had broken Angel’s wing with no more effort than breaking a stalk of grass. Angel gaped, not quite believing what he saw. The pain trickled slowly down his arm, gathered in a ball at his probably dislocated shoulder, then shot down his spine like a bullet released.

Angel screamed.

Several things happened at once. Or perhaps they happened in sequential order, and Angel was no longer capable of experiencing events properly. The students standing near the water all gasped in shock. Aizawa yelled out, “Firebird!” and began running in his direction. Another voice, one familiar to Angel even before Angel existed, screamed out a wordless cry of rage, followed by an explosion centered at the monster’s chest.

The nomu didn’t flinch at the attack. It simply lifted Angel higher into the air like a toy it wanted for itself. The monster glanced down at its smoking chest. It would have looked confused if it showed any emotion at all.

Kirishima released a wordless cry of rage and charged, his skin hardening into rock.

“Wait-!” Angel began to call, but too late. The nomu swept around his free hand and sent Kirishima flying. He landed in the water of the lake dozens of meters away. Angel could only hope his armor had saved him, and he wasn’t too incapacitated to swim to safety.

“Bastard!” yelled Bakugo. He stood next to Eraserhead, hands popping with rage. Thankfully, he wasn’t dumb enough to repeat Kirishima’s mistake and blindly change into the fight. More of the students were gathering at the pavilion. Tokoyami stood beside Bakugo while Todoroki made his presence known long before he arrived with a stream of ice that caught the nomu’s feet.

The monster stood completely undisturbed by the gathering army. Its teeth reflected Angel’s masked face as it raised him higher into the air, giving Angel many views of his own terror-filled eyes. The nomu opened its maw and snarled at the gathering crowd. Everyone stilled at that threatening rumble.

“Nah-ah!” sang Shigaraki. He stepped up to his monster, chuckling almost to himself. “Not another step,” he said to the crowd, “or I’ll have my creation smash the little birdy into oblivion.”

Just to make his point, the nomu squeezed Angel’s wing and shook him around like a dirty rag. It felt as though everything inside the broken limb was pushed out to the sides – bone, muscle, blood, and pain. The pain built to the point of bursting, and Angel could not hold back a screech. More than pain, the one thing that made him useful in this life was being smashed into bits. That fact made everything else matter so much less.

“What are you doing?” Hitoshi demanded, stepping forward. “Isn’t he one of your own people? Stop hurting him!”

Shigaraki’s only response was a dark chuckle, not enough for Hitoshi’s quirk to latch on. The information Rat had obtained from the school included the names and quirks of all the students. Of course, Shigaraki wouldn’t respond. Hitoshi looked on with an expression of pure frustrated rage. His was perhaps the most powerful quirk among them, but here, he could do nothing to help.

A dark purple shadow shimmered into existence next to Shigaraki.

“Ah, Kurogiri. Did you deal with the other hero?”

“Shigaraki,” Kurogiri replied somberly, “I have bad news. I defeated the hero Thirteen but could not disperse all the students. One of them got outside the facility.”

The world seemed to hold its breath. Shigaraki did nothing, but even past the haze of pain, Angel could see his body shaking, like there was a tremble in the earth only he could feel. He began scratching his neck. That wasn’t a good sign. “Kurogiri, if you weren’t useful, I would rip you apart right here, molecule by molecule. You stupid, ignorant-”

Just as quickly as it started, the fit finished. Shigaraki straightened and lowered his hands. It was impossible to see what expression lay beneath the dead hand over his face. “There’s no way we can win if a bunch of heroes show up to stop us,” he continued. “It’s game over today. And I was so looking forward to crushing the symbol of peace.” He sighed. “Damn. Let’s go home, Kurogiri.”

Everyone watching reeled in confusion. What? The villains were simply…going home?

Shigaraki continued, “But first, we break All Might’s pride. Nomu, kill as many of them as you can before we go.”

“NO!” Angel screamed. The monster holding him was already on the move. A giant fist flew toward the students faster than any of them could react. They would all die!

There was a teacher among them, and he was not so unprepared. Eyes shining red, Aizawa shoved Tokoyami aside and stepped right before the monster’s first. He took the blow with arms crossed before him, sending him and the students behind him flying back. Angel heard the bones in Aizawa’s arms breaking like dry twigs. He wasn’t going to be any more use in this fight.

The nomu prepared to strike again, but this time, the students were ready. A wave of ice flooded the ground and captured the nomu by the feet. The monster broke the ice easily, but it slowed it down enough for other students to get into position.

“Die, bastard!” yelled Bakugo, just as another wave of ice crashed into the oncoming fist. The resulting explosion blasted ice in all directions, creating a glittering cloud that temporarily blinded the nomu. While the monster was distracted waving its arm through the air, trying to see, Angel felt a light tug on his dangling wing. He looked down to see Tsu on the ground. She was trying to pull him free.

Angel almost shook his head and shooed her away. It was hopeless for him now. But looking up at the broken wing in the nomu’s grip, he felt it loosen. The creature might be too distracted to notice him escape.

He encouraged her onward with a frantic jerk of his head. “Quickly!” he hissed.

Tsu nodded in return, her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration. She tugged at his wing, and the resulting pain made Angel black out. He came back to himself when an even worse pain jolted through him. The nomu had noticed the attempted escape and tightened his grip once more. Tsu pulled as hard as she could from the other side, which was surprisingly a lot, considering her suctioned feet stuck firmly to the floor.

“Stop!” Angel croaked. He felt the fibers in his shoulder rib and pop. If this continued, she would tear his whole goddamn arm off. “Run!”

There was a look of utter sorrow in Tsu’s normally neutral expression as she released Angel’s wing. She jumped away, just avoiding the giant fist that swung around to snatch her. The nomu stuck again, and again, Tsu dodged his attack, disappearing with a little plop into the lake.

At least one is safe, Angel breathed out in a sigh. With that thought, he felt the edges of his vision grow dim again. No! he thought firmly, pushing away the blackness. No, I can’t let the nightmare free!

Shigaraki and the doctor thought Nightmare was just another one of their pets. They were wrong. The Nightmare festered in the back of Deku’s mind, the keeper of all his unwanted emotions. It feasted on his every trauma and regret, taking the memories of his daily bad dreams, growing stronger the more Deku pretended it wasn’t there.

Normally, Angel was the expert at stuffing down unwanted emotions. He feared the nightmare more than any of the others, and so he pretended hardest of all that it did not exist. Of course, he knew better. His light was one of the only things that could drive the shadow away. So, he took in a huge breath and refused to black out. He blasted the shadow with such a brilliant display of light and heat that it was but a tiny smudge of dark in comparison.

The nomu looked at its smoldering hand, not certain what to do about it. More Ice froze it momentarily in its confusion. “Die! Die!” Bakugo called out as he jumped forward to pepper the monster with dozens of tiny explosions. It regarded Bakugo's attacks like an annoying fly buzzing around its chest.

“Watch out!” Angel screamed. The nomu retaliated with lightning speed. Bakugo just had time to jump back before a huge black hand passed through the air where he’d been standing. The tip of the nomu’s finger caught his chest and sent him spinning sideways. The monster pressed the attack, and Bakugo had no defenses. Just as Angel was sure he would be crushed, a black, snake-like thing shot out of nowhere and wrapped around Bakugo’s arm. Tokoyami’s Shadow dragged Bakugo out of danger. The nomu’s fist made a crater deep in the empty concrete.

Angel was flung like a ragdoll. The pain in his wing made concentrating on anything virtually impossible. This latest attack bashed his head against the concrete, and so he lay there, gasping for air, trying to remember who he was supposed to be.

He was…Angel. Right? Why were they fighting?

“Careful,” Shigaraki cautioned from not too far away. “As much as it’s been fun playing with our defiant little bird here, I’d prefer to keep such valuable property intact. Kurogiri, if you would…”

Purple shimmered at the edges of Angel’s vision. No! he thought frantically. I can’t go with them!

But at his back was the shadow. Nightmare wanted to play with the nomu and the portal, the things Angel feared the most right now. He knew the shadow was incapable of stopping there. It would consume everyone in the whole building before it finished.

Angel was halfway through the portal when he decided what to do. He took the Nightmare with him and used it like a springboard. The moment the nomu’s grip on him loosened, he pushed off the ground with his good wing, dragging his legs out of the portal. Adrenaline pounded in his head, making the pain of his injured wing less noticeable. He propelled himself up and forward, feet first, toward the nomu’s head. The creature’s eye rolled to look at him just as Angel’s talons grabbed its face and began to rip.

The nomu’s scream outmatched Shigaraki’s cry of outrage. Angel ignored everything but the pink flesh in front of him. He used the finger on his good wing to pull himself further on top of the nomu’s head, digging his claws deep into the monster’s exposed brain and shredding it like so much puddy. A giant hand raised to crush Angel, but a wave of ice stopped it long enough for him to move to the side, causing the nomu to strike itself in the face. It roared in frustration.

Angel carried the shadow’s momentum to the very end. He couldn’t hear his screams as the nomu’s hand finally found his bad wing and attempted to pull him away. He held on with everything he could, grabbing at anything solid within that cold mass of meat. When the nomu finally jerked him free, gray brain matter sprayed.

A rumble shook the air. A crash from the other side of the building. Could that finally be…?

The ground hit Angel with the power of a mountain, and he was gone.

Notes:

Next time! Still Angel...???

Chapter 25: Angel has an identity crisis

Angel mingled in a distant dream of light and dark, distant voices, and the beginning of what was to be a monumental headache. The darkness wanted to take over – was so close to taking over that Angel existed more as the shadow than himself. He slowly became cognizant of what happened around him in a haze of frustrated agony and half-awareness. And as he became more aware, he realized slowly that he was not quite…himself.

Some rule had been broken — a line crossed that was never meant to be known, let alone tested. Angel had messed up somewhere; the how and why remained to be discovered.

He saw a tall, rounded roof above moving in a strange back-and-forth motion. He realized later that he was being carried up the steps to the USJ’s entrance. The sun outside was too bright and made his headache rage like a lion in his brain. The shadow did not like the light.

“Quirk eval?” A voice drifted to him. Above or below or to the side.

“Hot!” A deeper voice replied immediately. “Those larger feathers especially.”

“Thermal equipment noted. I’ll do a temperature check once we’re in the truck. Triage level?”

“Only him and Eraserhead in critical. The rest can be treated on-site, as far as I’m aware…”

Angel’s thoughts drifted. Was Eraserhead injured? He thought he might have been, and the sudden image of his teacher getting punched made him gasp and try to sit upright. It must not have worked very well. He remembered raised voices and the smell of smoke, a feeling that the whole world was tilting and spinning like a wonky carnival ride.

He woke feeling…strange. Angel did not like strange. Angel was a being of certainties and black and white, not shades of gray. It took him far too long to realize he stared up at a white ceiling, listening to little beeps and the distant hum of voices in the distance. His head hurt, and he knew that any movement would make the pain exponentially worse. Any movement, and the thing lurking in the dark might strike.

“Good morning, young ones,” said a wizened voice. “Is our special patient finally awake?”

Angel recognized that voice. Or, one of the others did. He waited for one of them to perk up and respond.

No one did.

There was nothing inside except that cold, empty shadow. Where were the others? Angel had often fantasized about being the one in charge, the real Deku. But even in those instances, the others always remained in his head, guiding his every step. Their vacancy was not simply unwanted. It left him alone with the Nightmare.

Someone grunted in response. “I wish I felt young right about now. To answer your question, there’s been no change since yesterday.”

A click, and then a bright light shone in Angel’s eyes. The Nightmare hissed in his head and shied away. Angel flinched slightly against the light.

“Eraser,” tisked the old woman. “I know you took a knock to the head, but when have your observation skills gotten so rusty?”

“Oh?”

The old woman with a tight white bun was a wiz of activity around the room. Angel’s pillows were rearranged and the bed under him raised so he could sit more upright. He saw a grumpy Aizawa in a wheelchair, looking like he wanted very desperately to stand. He was staring at Angel intently.

“…Kid? Can you hear me?”

Angel couldn’t respond. Doing things was hard. How he ever managed to stay upright, let alone fly, he couldn’t guess. Everything felt like a faraway impossibility, not even worth the attempt.

Aizawa hummed. “He doesn’t seem more aware to me.”

“A moment, Eraser. The impatience of youth these days…”

More activity to the side. The old woman returned with something that smelled terrible and made Angel’s eyes water. He tried to move away, but his body still wasn’t responding very well. He managed a groan and turned his head. His heart was suddenly beating uncomfortably fast.

“There we go. I much prefer this to a waking coma. How do we feel, my boy?”

Like ashes made from donkey poo, Angel wanted to say. All that emerged was a parched cough.

The woman brought him water from a straw, and Angel’s whole world revolved around sipping that glorious liquid for a time. He chewed on the end of the straw, trying to recall why and how he came to be in a random hospital, doted on by the nurse from his school.

The sudden certainty that his teacher and fellow students were dead hit Angel before even the memories returned. “Eraserhead!” he yelled.

He jerked upright so fast, he knocked he near-empty water cup out of the woman’s hands and sent it careening across the room. He didn’t move very far. All his limbs were immobile and stiff. The pain of the movement marched slowly but assuredly to assault his senses. He lay back against the bedding and groaned loudly.

“I’m right here,” Aizawa said firmly. “I’m alright.”

It took a few moments for Angel to find the dark-haired hero with his eyes crossed. He blinked a few times, and his teacher came into focus. “I…I saw you-you…got punched-”

“Easy,” Aizawa said, raising his right hand. It was only wrapped in a soft bandage, thankfully. How long exactly had Angel been unconscious? “I’m okay. The people here at the hospital made me practically good as new. But you, kid. How do you feel?”

Looped out on pain meds, was his first impression. He took stock of himself and found he was almost completely wrapped in plaster. His legs were extended out and held up by wires, like in cartoons where the villain gets every bone in their body broken. One wing had a similar treatment, while the other had only a bandage wrapped around his upper arm. That wing was unfortunately not free. In addition to the IV trailing from the limb, the fingers making up the bones of his wing were bound by a cuff to his wrist and chained to the bedpost. The position bunched up his flight feathers uncomfortably against his wrist. Both of his wings looked far smaller than they should be, bound up and plastered.

“Really?” Angel asked, rattling the cuff on his good wing. “What, you think I’ll fly outa here? I’m an invalid now!”

Aizawa almost rolled his eyes. “You’re not an invalid.”

“You’ve been unresponsive for days,” Recovery Girl said. “With the amount of healing you need, we’ve had to work slowly or risk using all your energy and killing you. What do you remember?”

That Angel was supposed to have outlived his usefulness. But now he was here, alive. I’d prefer to keep such valuable property intact, Shigaraki’s voice echoed in his head. Maybe they needed him again after all. Angel had gone against Shigaraki’s instructions more times than he could count. He’d even tried to kill his nomu. If they intended to keep him alive, then the punishment for his transgressions was destined to be far, far worse than anything they’d done before.

“Kid?” Aizawa asked.

Angel bit his lip. “I have to go back,” he said.

“Well, I promise you won’t get very far.”

Angel slowly shook his head, and even that motion made him want to throw up. “You don’t understand. You must heal me so I can go back as soon as possible.”

“So the League of Villains can break all your bones again?”

Angel winced, and the old woman scoffed at the teacher. “Eraserhead, dearie. You need to learn some manners for the ill.”

“He’s a criminal.”

“He’s a child.”

“Children can be the worst criminals.”

“You and I both know that option doesn’t help anyone.”

Aizawa’s turn to wince. He took a deep breath through the nose and asked, “Why do you need to go back to the League so badly?”

“So they can break all my bones, duh.” Angel’s words weren’t as sarcastic as he intended. He sounded more scared than anything, because he wasn’t lying.

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem so eager to return when that portal villain was about to take you away. You’re scared, kid. I know you’re scared, but we can protect you. You don’t have to go back.”

“You can’t help me!” Angel hissed, and some of the shadow must have leaked through, because both the teacher and the nurse reeled backward, startled by the ferocity. “You don’t know what I’ve done. I’m a bad guy! I’m not some stupid side-project to boost your approval rating.”

“You saved people,” Aizawa said, eyes hardening to the ridicule in Angel’s voice. “I was there, remember? You jumped in front of the Nomu’s attack. You warned me when I was about to be killed. My students attested that you helped warn them as well. You don’t have to put up this act, kid. Whatever you are, you certainly aren’t a villain. I’d say you’re more of a hero.”

His words struck Angel deeper than he had ever dared to reach himself. He lowered his eyes, suddenly holding back tears. Aizawa tried to press his point, but Angel shook his head and refused to listen, sniffling like a five-year-old. Recovery Girl shooed the teacher away, promising he could return once Angel was in a better mood.

He fell asleep at a kiss from the nurse and woke later that day to her and her assistant removing the hard casts and replacing them with bandages. Angel’s legs were still badly swollen, but he could move his talons without too much pain. They looked better than expected, the nurse said.

Whatever. Angel just wanted to be healed fully so he could figure out a way to escape. The longer he lingered here, the bigger the punishment would be when he finally returned.

They had just rewrapped his wing when Aizawa came back, a man in a gray coat trailing behind him. He frowned at Recovery Girl. “I thought we agreed to wait for an officer present before removing the casts. He needs to be restrained per protocol.”

The old woman scowled. “Your protocols get in the way of my healing. The boy can barely stay awake, let alone hurt someone.”

She was correct. That headache still lingered, despite the nurse’s kiss having made it better. The very thought of trying to swing his legs around the side of the bed and sit up made Angel want to vomit.

“Tsukauchi,” the nurse said to the man in gray, who immediately stood at attention. “Would you be so kind as to check on that broth I ordered from the kitchen? Our patient here needs to eat as soon as possible.”

“Yes, man,” Tsukauchi said immediately, leaving to do as she asked.

Aizawa watched him go with a flat expression. “We don’t need any more distractions. We’ve already waited too long.”

“I know,” Recovery Girl replied, equally as serious. “That’s why the boy needs to regain some strength before you rile him up again.”

Angel’s stomach decided it was the appropriate time to loudly announce its unhappiness. He blushed under his mask as everyone turned to look at him. The hunger struck so suddenly and viciously, he wanted to curl into a little ball and whimper. When was the last time he’d eaten? IV fluids weren’t enough, especially after spending days as Angel, who ran hot and needed more calories.

Oh, god. He’d been Angel for days now. The side effects of turning back would be worse than he’d even experienced, if he even survived them.

If he could turn back at all.

“Hungry?” the nurse asked with amusement.

Angel didn’t answer, too busy trying to hold himself together. Recovery Girl seemed to know the pain he was in, because her expression softened. She got him another cup with a straw. “There, there now. Just drink more water. That will help settle your stomach.”

He expected the water to make him nauseous, but surprisingly it didn’t. The coolness helped to ease the burning of hunger in his guts. The detective returned shortly with a wonderful-smelling bone broth, and both men stood around awkwardly as the nurse insisted on hand-feeding Angel the entire portion. Finished, Angel lay back against the pillows, sighed, and closed his eyes.

Aizawa shut the open door to the hallway. He cleared his throat. “It’s long past time for an interview. Recovery Girl, if you don’t mind?”

The nurse signed and stepped back. “I’ll allow it for now. But I’m staying here. I have a feeling you're going to upset my patient, no matter how much I caution against it.”

“I understand. You can stay if you think it’s necessary.”

“I do.”

The man in gray stepped forward, ignoring the little spat going on next to him. “Hello, Firebird,” he began pleasantly. “I’m Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi with the Tokyo police. We need to ask you some questions about your involvement with the League of Villains.”

Angel gave him a deadpan look. Did they think he was going to give up the League’s secrets that easily?

“I understand you have no incentive to tell us anything. That’s understandable, coming from your position. But you have to know, we’re on a search for a missing child. One of our students has disappeared since the incident at the USJ. We’re very worried about him.”

That confirmed Angel’s suspicions since waking up that they still didn’t know his identity. It made things simpler, and at the same time, a whole lot more complicated.

The detective took a deep breath and met Angel square in the eyes. “Please, Firebird. Tell us everything you know about Izuku Midoriya.”

Notes:

Finals are kicking my ass for my summer classes right now, so next update might not be until after that. Try not to melt out there!

Chapter 26: Angel sucks at lying

Notes:

I'm baaaaaack

Lets do this ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

The detective had mentioned that name.

Angel jerked and let out a raspy laugh that was more of a strangled cough. “I-! Ah…”

Aizawa stepped up to stand beside detective whatever-his-name, his eyes piercing into Angel like twin spears of ice. “You aren’t him, are you?”

“No!” Angel said immediately, aghast at the suggestion.

“True,” said the detective. He didn’t look surprised. “But based on your reaction, you know the person we’re talking about.”

Angel turned his face away. “No…”

Damn it, he hated lying.

Aizawa set his lips. “Kid, Come on. You need to remember that we’re the good guys here. We’re up against evil scum willing to hurt children to get at All Might. You could help us to stop them.”

“You’ll have to try harder than that!” Angel snorted. “Those children deserved it, probably!”

“False,” said the detective. His demeanor was so calm and composed compared to the looming Aizawa that Angel couldn’t help but feel they were in some kind of good cop, bad cop situation. “You don’t believe that, kid.”

“Yeah I do!”

“No, you don’t. One of those children is sitting right in front of me.”

“You don’t know anything about me!”

“That’s not true either. You know, just like you did at the USJ, that Shigaraki and his group are wrong. They’re not going to succeed – they never were. The only question is how many people will get hurt before we stop them. You can help us. Please, Firebird. You can help us save them.”

He sounded so genuine. Angel couldn’t seem to pry his eyes away from the sheets covering his broken legs. What was he supposed to do here? If Rat had been around, surely he would have come up with a solution. But they weren’t allowed to change into Rat in front of someone. Not that Angel could have if he’d wanted to.

A memory of the Doctor looming over him raked Angel's mind like acid on a raw cut: You’re not the smart one, you’re not the one who makes decisions.

Angel shuddered, ridding himself of that awful feeling. The shadow was more than happy to snap up the emotion and scarf it down. It was bigger, now, looming at the back of his shoulder, breathing a hot breath into his ear.

“I’m not the one who makes decisions,” he said automatically.

The detective and Aizawa exchanged looks. Whatever passed between them seemed like a question of some kind.

“Who makes decisions, then?” the detective asked cautiously.

Angel only shook his head, refusing to answer.

Aizawa said, “You mentioned when we first met, you know a villain we’ve been looking for. If you could tell us how you know this person, that would be helpful. Anything you tell us would be a great help.”

He sounded as though he was trying to suppress his anger and channel empathy and understanding. Angel could still clearly hear that undertone of a threat. He wondered, would Aizawa be so stern if he knew Angel’s real identity? Did he care about Angel at all?

“I can’t talk about them,” he muttered. “I’m not allowed.”

The detective looked sad as he said, “That’s true.”

Aizawa looked at the man, startled, then back at Angel. “But you’ve gone against orders before, haven’t you, Firebird? You spoke of that person on the night we met. You went against your orders to help us fight the monster at the USJ. If you spoke now, how would they know? We can protect you, kid. They can’t get to you anymore.”

There was a difference between Shigaraki’s orders and those from the doctor. One of them, he physically couldn’t disobey. The doctor would know what went on in this room. As soon as Angel returned, he would sit Angel down and pry every tiny secret out of his head. The doctor would know exactly what he’d done to get stuck in this form. He’d fix Angel up so he could feel like himself again and not like…this. Whatever this was.

“…Kid?” Aizawa said, inching closer. “You still with us?”

Angel didn’t know how to answer that question. Instead, he asked, “Do you honestly think I would feel safe with you guys? I mean, Shigaraki’s got a living portal on his side!”

“Not in here,” the detective jumped in, gesturing to the ceiling. “This room is specially made to suppress certain quirks. You had an…allergic reaction, I’m told, to the quirk suppressants they used to subdue your heat on the way to the hospital. We’ve had to use different methods to safely treat and protect you. No one’s getting out of here with the use of quirks, I promise you that.”

It sounded like a challenge. Angel looked around the room, trying to determine how it could be used to suppress his quirks. His first impression was that the detective was lying, considering Angel needed his base quirk to keep his form. But maybe…he didn’t? At least not right now. His feathers were less glowy than normal, and he supposed the bed wasn’t smoking or on fire, so the detective wasn’t lying there.

But if his quirks were being suppressed, why was the shadow so close behind him, leaning into him, hands tickling the back of his neck? Was Angel being suppressed, too?

“I don’t believe you,” Angel frankly told the man. “I don’t trust cops.”

“That is also true,” the man sighed in defeat.

“You…” Angel began slowly, “You…have a quirk! You know when someone is telling the truth!”

Both men looked impressed. “You’re right,” said the detective. “That is my quirk. Lie detector.”

“Ha!” Angel declared. He made a motion to raise a fist into the air, but stopped and winced when his less-injured wing pulled on the cuff. He’d forgotten he didn’t have a fist right now, anyway, with only one finger on each hand. He didn’t let that get in the way of his victory. “I can be the smart one, too!”

Aizawa sounded angrier as he asked, “Who said you weren’t smart, kid? You seem very intelligent to me.”

“I’m…I’m the one…” Angel looked between both men, suddenly lost. Who was he supposed to be? Who was Angel in the first place? “…I don’t…understand…?”

There was sound and motion around him, and Angel realized blearily that the adults were still trying to talk to him. He had gotten lost in his head and didn’t feel like finding his way back. The nurse made the two men move away as she put a hand on his neck, feeling for his temperature. She couldn’t use his forehead with the mask stuck in place.

“Firebird? What’s wrong, dearie? Are you feeling sick?”

Angel didn’t know how he was feeling except for that awful emptiness. The Nightmare was like a black hole inside his chest, sucking in all the stress and worry for what was to come. He didn’t answer, too stuck in that mud of numbness.

The nurse flashed a light in his eyes, then made him drink more water before adjusting his bed back to a semi-lying position.

“He’s just overwhelmed,” the nurse said, a scowl in her voice. No doubt the men knew who she blamed for it. “He needs more rest before you go any further.”

“Can you bring him around again?” Aizawa insisted. “We’re searching for a missing child here.”

“He’s a child lying right here, clearly traumatized by whatever it is you want to know. If you want to help anyone, you can start with him. And you can start by leaving this room until I say so.”

There was more arguing, but the woman ultimately won, and the men both left. Angel could help but relax with them gone, his eyes sliding shut.

“That’s right, dearie. You get a nice rest now - don’t think about anything else.”

And he didn’t. All Angel felt was a light kiss on the cheek, and he was gone from the world.

 

--

 

Days pass with a similar routine. Angel slept until someone woke him to change his bandages, or clean him, or feed him, or do whatever the nurses needed. Sometimes he slept through that, too. Recovery Girl used her quirk on him constantly, and the result was that he could hardly keep his eyes open for five minutes before sagging. He felt frustrated at his lack of control, and at the same time, way, way too tired to do anything about it.

He vaguely recalled doctors being there, asking him questions he could only mumble incoherent answers to. They inspected his wings and legs and determined him healthy enough to leave off the bandages. They inspected his mask, too, and talked theories about the material and how it attached. One of them tried to get their fingers under the edge of it. Angel did not like that one bit.

After that little incident, they put a bite guard in his mouth while anyone was near him. At least no one tried to remove the mask again.

There was a doctor who Angel hated. He had been the one to get too close that one time, but the bite to his finger only seemed to make him more determined to torment Angel. He insisted on pressing and pinching every tiny bone in Angel’s wing until he wanted to scream. He yelled in pain a few times when the doctor felt a particularly sensitive break, but the bite gag held in his cries, and he could hardly move with new restraints on his wings and ankles.

It was during one of these sessions that Aizawa and his little detective friend walked in on them alone. Angel felt a flash of shame, but for what, he didn’t know. Both the hero and the officer were carrying what looked like a bag of groceries. The doctor startled as Aizawa suddenly demanded, “What’s going on here?”

“This is an examination,” the doctor said hotly. “You can’t be in this room-”

Aizawa was deadly serious as he said, “You’re not the doctor in charge of his care. Why are you here?”

“I am today,” said the man, giving Aizawa the tiniest of head-bows. “My name is Dr. Matsuo. I am conducting an examination, as I said. I respect the justice system, but you, out of anyone, must understand I have medical authority over this patient. You cannot simply barge in whenever you wish to conduct an interview.”

“I had permission from his doctor to be here,” Aizawa said between tightly pressed lips, his tone low and deadly. “I got permission five minutes ago. I believe you are the one who’s trespassing.”

“I see.” The doctor straightened. “This is news to me. I will have to talk with Dr. Kame about this. If you will excuse me.”

 The doctor stepped from the room, looking for all the world like a man frustrated at his coworker for a miscommunication. Before the man passed the hero and the detective, however, he flashed a peace sign at Angel behind his back.

Angel felt his stomach plummet. It didn’t take him many guesses to figure out who wore that man’s skin. Toga had stopped in to remind Angel exactly who he worked for.

Strangely, the suppressants didn’t affect her quirk. Everything about hers just wasn’t fair.

Aizawa watched the fake doctor like a hawk until he vanished into the hallway. He turned on Angel suddenly. “What was going on? Did he hurt you?”

“Eraser,” the detective said, motioning to the bite guard around Angel’s mouth.

Aizawa swore, then proceeded to undo the guard at the back of Angel’s neck and pull it out of his mouth. Angel licked his parched lips.

“That man should be arrested,” Aizawa said, and he turned, as though going to do just that.

“No, wait!” Angel said, halting him in his tracks. He didn’t want the real Dr. Matsuo to get in trouble for something he didn’t do. “It…it was me. I bit him. I did the bad thing, and I deserved it.”

“Kid, you didn’t-Look.” Aizawa closed his eyes, seeming to center himself. “You don’t deserve to be hurt unnecessarily. No one deserves that, even bad guys.”

“He didn’t hurt me.”

The detective shook his head. “Not true.”

Angel felt like smacking himself in the head. He’d forgotten about this guy's annoying quirk. “Everyone hurts me, don’t they? The nurses and the doctors, and, and…!”

“Calm down,” Aizawa said. “No one is going to hurt you here, I promise. We want to help you.”

Angel's breathing had gotten fast and uneven. He tried to swallow it down, but nothing seemed to be working like he wanted. Everything in this entire world was spinning out of control. “That’s a lie!” he cried, pulling at the restraints until the delicate bones there threatened to break again. “You’re doing it right now to get to Midoriya. Once you get to him, you won’t give a crap about me! You’ll try and get rid of me!”

“That is not true,” Aizawa said so strongly that Angel’s gasping breaths stilled for a moment. “I do care, Firebird. I care so much it hurts me to make you say these things when you’ve clearly been punished into silence. The only thing I can do is promise that I will protect you. I would die protecting you. Please. You must believe me. Tsukauchi?”

The detective nodded. “He’s telling the truth, Firebird. Please. Be a hero for you and these kids. Tells us what you know.”

They were both liars. They knew exactly how to hurt Angel the most.

He was sobbing uncontrollably now. Aizawa and the detective rushed to his side, but Angel only cringed away from them. He hated himself for that, and latched onto Aizawa’s sleeve with his talon as he pulled away. “Don’t- I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t let them- don’t leave, okay? Promise y-you won’t leave?”

“Kid…I won’t. I promise.”

Aizawa didn’t move away, just pulled a chair closer with his foot so he could sit down, allowing Angel to stay latched onto his sleeve. Tsukauchi adjusted the bed upright more, so that Angel didn’t have to sob on his back, then retrieved a chair as well and sat. They stayed while Angel cried himself dry of tears. So many tears they pooled in the eyeholes of his mask and dripped onto his lap. Angel could remember crying in the cage sometimes, when he felt lonely. And this was the loneliest he’d felt in a long, long time.

Eventually, his incoherent sobbing teetered out, and he heard his voice again, raspy and nothing like his usual voice, but still somehow discernible. “I was just…a little kid…!”

“What happened, Firebird?” Aizawa asked softly. “What happened when you were a kid?”

The truth hurt too much to hold. Angel had no choice but to give it up. “I was just a little kid when- when they took me away…”

Notes:

Alternate title: Aizawa and Tsukauchi gaslight Angel into the truth that he's a good person :P

Chapter 27: Angel takes flight

Notes:

Hello all, I have emerged. I will henceforth be plunging back into the dark depths of school, but here is a (slightly) longer chapter for your vile pleasure. I will emerge again like a swamp monster in the night...at some point.

Angel hardly remembers half of what he told Aizawa and the detective. He was so torn open inside, he didn’t care anymore. He told them things about the League that Shigaraki probably had no idea he knew. It wasn’t going to be enough to incriminate anyone, but enough that Shigaraki would have his hide when he eventually returned.

Skinning him alive would be a new one for sure. His nightmare opened up entirely new possibilities for pain.

“And how do you know Midoriya?” The detective asked. “We already know he’s been posing at UA as Kozue Oshiro. He was kidnapped like you, wasn’t he?”

“The police,” Angel told him. “It was them. They-they sold us to the League like we were animals.”

Angel felt Aizawa stiffen under his sleeve. He didn’t sound surprised as he said, “We’re sorry, Firebird. We’re going to flush out the men responsible and bring them to justice. I promise you. And you’re helping us to do that.”

They asked more questions on the matter, and Angel was more than willing to talk, going into details about the officers who sold him off. He couldn’t give them any concrete evidence, such as addresses or anything to do with Sensei. He didn’t want to die that badly, especially not when he wasn’t the only life to be snuffed out alongside his own.

After what must have been hours of talking and crying, and one of them getting up to fetch water or tissues for him time and again, Angel finally ran out of steam. He didn’t remember falling asleep. When he woke, the two men were there again, and again, Angel told them all that he reasonably could.

The nurses and doctors were nicer to him after that, it seemed. They kept only his uninjured arm chained to the bedpost after he promised not to hurt anyone. He gradually gained enough strength to perform tasks such as adjusting his weight or feeding himself.

Recovery Girl found his lack of skills holding a spoon decidedly concerning. He blamed the drugs. She told him he wasn’t on them anymore.

It was a day later that Angel woke to an unexpected person standing at the foot of his bed, scowling down at him.

“You,” Bakugo declared, arms crossed. “Are you Deku?”

Angel looked around, but no one else was in the room. He cocked his head. “Excuse my ears, but did you just call me stupid?”

“You don’t have ears,” the other boy scoffed. “Now fess up. How do you know so much about the League? Is that where you’ve been all this time?”

Angel stuck his beak into the air. “I don’t know what you mean. I don’t talk to snitches. What’d you do, go tattle to Eraserhead the second your little friend disappeared?”

“I did,” Bakugo confirmed grimly, “because I understand better now what kind of shit we’re in. And I know that you know the truth better than anyone.”

“And how do you know so much about Firebird?” came a stern voice from the hallway. Aizawa appeared in civilian clothes with a grocery bag, which he set at the foot of Angel’s bed.

“You and your loud-ass husband, that’s how.”

“You shouldn’t be eavesdropping on private conversations.”

Bakugo threw up his hands. “If you want them private, don’t announce them to the entire school. Geezus!”

Aizawa signed. “He is louder than he realizes, sometimes…”

“Yeah. So, I know that this phony here is either hiding my friend, or he is him, and he’s more of a coward than I thought!”

“You-” Angel sputtered. “I resent that! Deku’s the bravest out of anyone, and you know it!”

That made Bakugo pause, long enough for Aizawa to say, “It’s not him, Bakugo. He’s passed both a DNA test and a lie detector. He’s not Midoriya.”

The taller boy gritted his teeth. “Well then. That only means he’s a coward for not telling us where to find him.”

“That’s enough out of you,” Aizawa scolded. “You’re not supposed to be here anyway. Go. And you can try to be useful by keeping up on your home assignments.”

Bakugo did as he was told with a massive scowl on his face.

“Here.”

Aizawa rummaged through the grocery bag and pulled out a few packages of food. “They're from the convenience store, but I’m sure you’ll be glad for anything besides the hospital brands.”

Angel took the yogurt, but scowled at the healthy-labeled peanut protein cookie. He likewise turned down the cup of premade oatmeal and a chocolate bar.

“You don’t like the same things as Midoriya,” Aizawa noted while he unwrapped a plastic spoon from the bag.

“Well, yeah,” Firebird said. He couldn’t help leaking his annoyance into his words. He had been excited to eat the convenience store food. Too bad Aizawa went out of his way to pick the things he knew Angel wouldn’t like. “You would too, if you ate the same oatmeal peanut bars every meal for, like, six years.”

He said it rather off-handedly, but regretted it as Aizawa clenched up, holding the spoon like he wanted to snap it in half. Angel only wished he could actually set this hero in the right direction.

“Er, it wasn’t so bad,” Angel backtracked. “They were nice, s-sometimes.” He winced. “I mean, we got more food than just that! Like, we got ramen if we were well-behaved and lots of fruit snacks.” He shrugged, gesturing at his teacher to hand him the spoon.

Aizawa did, looking a little shellshocked. “You should have gotten scurvy.”

“Scerva-whatnow?”

Aizawa rubbed at the space between his eyes. “Just eat your yogurt, kid. We’re going to have some long conversations later about that kind of thing, but you don’t have to worry about it now. Just…eat. Okay?”

He didn’t have to tell Angel twice. As his strength returned, so did his appetite, and the hospital kitchens weren’t prepared for his required calories. He wrapped his finger awkwardly around the plastic spoon, taking almost a minute to get the position right. He only realized afterward that he still needed to remove the yogurt cup’s top.

“Resolve this!” Angel insisted, shoving the shaking yogurt cup at Aizawa with his injured left arm. His teacher did so, removing the lid, and handed the cup back, making sure to hold it for him until he got his jerking finger to wrap around it again.

The attempt to get yogurt into his mouth was embarrassing to say the least. He kept splattering food across his mask or flicking it onto the bed sheets. His larger finger didn’t want to do fine things like holding a spoon. Then again, he didn’t think he had ever tried before now.

Aizawa didn’t say anything as he helped Angel clean himself. He’d probably done this whole spoon thing on purpose anyway, to confirm what Recovery Girl told him. He had to go home for the night and take care of his deadbeat husband, he told Angel, but promised that several pro heroes remained at the hospital to protect him. Angel couldn’t figure out if that was a threat or not.

He pulled absently at the cuff keeping his flight feathers pressed to his arm. That was going to be a pain in the ass to stretch out later. He wiggled his toes, and it occurred to him for the first time since coming to the hospital that he was well enough to escape. He wasn’t so tired anymore – the food had helped with that. He’d even say he could fly, if only he could get out of this room.

He pulled a bit at the restraint. How would the others solve this? Deku would leave it up to them, of course. Dragon and Hound would simply brute their way free. Rat had those nifty shirking powers, and Nightmare was kind of…whatever it wanted to be at the moment.

Angel shuddered, pushing away the chill of that terrible influence. He had managed to keep the ugly down while here, but he realized that there was going to be a breaking point. The Nightmare would escape one day, just like the Hound eventually escaped. What if Angel…used it, like he had done at the USJ? Take a tiny piece of the shadow and shape it to his liking?

He could keep it, like a little pet.

Like the way Toga and Dabi and everyone else treated him.

The thought made him nauseated as much as it amused him. Angel took a deep breath and reached into the darkness, taking a piece of shadow and trying to carve it away. The Nightmare was surprisingly more receptive to it than Angel had imagined. It seemed to encourage him onward, even.

Finally, Angel had retrieved a tiny sliver of the darkness. It was a finger, he realized in horror. It came with a memory.

Angel crushed the finger with his own. NO! He was Angel, he was not some coward to let a little incident from his past stop his escape right now. He absorbed the dark energy it gave him and twisted it. Forced it to relocate into his restrained arm. The darkness reshaped the arm until it was shriveled and disgusting, a mummified carcass of flesh.

Horrified, Angel drew away, but the arm only followed him, still attached to his body. It slipped free of the cuff and flopped lifeless against the bed. Angel took in a huge, shuddering breath, and the arm returned to life like a mattress filling with air. Rust-red feathers sprang forth from the appendage and grew out again, much like they did when he changed into Angel.

Angel couldn’t believe it. He was free.

He moved the wing a few times to make certain it was his own. It felt strange to him, as though it didn’t fit quite right. It moved like he wanted it to, but slower than normal. Almost like the shadow was still in the arm, weighing it down. He had given the Nightmare a tiny inch of space, and it wasn’t going to give that up easily.

Determined to figure out how to subdue the shadow later, Angel began the surprisingly difficult process of untangling himself from the sheets. It was then that he began to smell something strange. Was that…burning?

Angel yelped and leaped from the bed when he realized it was smoking. He sprang upright only to collapse to the ground, groaning. His bones and joints felt brittle under their thin layer of skin. He examined his wings and found that the feathers there had regained their shiny luster. He didn’t need to test them to know his fire powers had returned. That meant it was the cuff and not the room subduing his quirk. Had the lie detector detective lied to him?

He used his trembling wings to get back to his feet. He was moving too slowly. He knew cameras were watching him, meaning any moment a person might barge in and tie him back to the bed. He stumbled over to the hospital window and looked out. He was maybe on the sixth story or so. Perfect for a takeoff.

If only he weren’t wearing a hospital gown and nothing else. Well, he’d just have to hope no pro heroes were watching from directly below. He was struggling with the inside lock with his two knobby fingers when the door opened behind him.

“What the-!”

Angel turned. The people who entered the room were not pro heroes, as he expected. Thinking on it, he honestly should have expected them to show up at some point.

Bakugo, Hitoshi, and Todoroki stood in the open doorway, looking at Angel with mixed expressions of caution and determination.

“Oh, ah…” Angel stuttered. He lowered his wings, then tapped on the window with a finger. “It’s a tad smoky in here, huh? I was just, er, getting some fresh air.”

Hitoshi crossed his arms. “Sure you were.”

Bakugo stepped forward, ignoring the previous comments. “We’re here to make you talk, chicken legs. Fess up or else.” He pressed one fist into an open palm, but it was a benign gesture. There wasn’t much Bakugo could do in the middle of a hospital.

Angel pressed himself toward the window. “Or else what, bomber boy? Aren’t the visiting hours over by now? Who let you in here?”

Bakugo grinned, thumbing a finger at an apologetic-looking Hitoshi. “Who needs visiting hours when you’ve got this guy on your side?”

For the first time, Todoroki spoke, talking to the other two, “We could get in a lot of trouble doing this.”

“You wanted to come along,” Bakugo countered.

“Yes,” Todoroki said, looking straight at Angel. “I am here to apologize. When you fought that monster, I should have used my powers more to help you. I admit I was surprised at the ferocity of your attack, and I did not save you from injury as I should have.”

“But you did help,” Angel said, confused. “You froze his fist when he would have crushed me!”

“Yes, and I should have done more.”

“You were crushed, dude,” Hitoshi jumped in. “That monster went down right on top of you.”

That did explain all the broken bones. A sudden, black anger gripped Angel like a vice. He gasped and clutched at his chest. The others stepped forward, Bakugo reaching out a hand, but a deep growl from Angel stopped him.

“Stay back,” he gasped. “Don-don’t come any closer!”

“What’s wrong?” Hitoshi demanded, but Angel couldn’t answer him, too busy trying to hold back the monster inside. He shuddered as another wave of distilled hatred flowed through him.

“I can’t…*gasp*…hold it back…!”

“Hey,” Bakugo said in his ‘I’m confused and so I’m angry’ voice. “What’s going on with you?”

Hitoshi’s voice was grim as he said, “I imagine a lot is going on in that head of his. Especially if he is Kozue after all.”

“I’m not…” Angel panted out, “Not…!”

“Aizawa did say it was confirmed not to be him,” Todoroki offered.

“Yeah, well,” said Hitoshi. “That’s just the thing: Aizawa said he passed a lie detector test and a DNA test, right? But if Kozue can change into an entirely different person, its possible he can change his very DNA. Right?”

The other two boys hesitantly nodded along.

“And so, if that’s true, then he could easily pass the lie detector test claiming he’s someone else, because he is someone else. At the moment, anyway.”

Angel let out a coughing laugh. “T-that’s ridiculous! You can’t possibly believe something so far-fetched!”

But all three boys were looking at him, questions in their faces that they shouldn’t have. The shadow made a break for it once more, and once more, Angel just managed to hold it back with a groan.

“Listen,” he said between heavy pants. “I’m a danger to everyone in this hospital right now. You have to let me go, or I could…I could…”

“You could what?” Bakugo scoffed. “You don’t think the three of us could stop you?”

“No. I really, really don’t.”

That made all of them pause. Hitoshi stepped forward and said, “I could use my powers on you. Would that stop whatever is happening?”

Angel opened his mouth to respond, but something black and sticky clogged up his throat. The shadow was doing everything it could to protect itself. Angel shook his head at Hitoshi mutely.

“What about Aizawa?” Todoroki said, holding out his cell phone. “He’ll be here in only a few minutes if I call him-”

“No!” Angel shook his head vehemently. “He can’t help me. I have to…have to get out…!”

His vision was fading, covered by a thick veil of swirling darkness. Could he fly like this? He would have to try. He blindly reached for the lock of the window again, fumbling with his fingers. Damn it, why was everything so hard?!

A hand slammed onto the window next to his. Bakugo growled, “Give me one good reason to trust you, and not throw you to the heroes right now.”

Angel glared at him. It was more the shadow and not him that said, “Oh, Bakugo. I would’ve thought you wanted me to jump.”

Bakugo withdrew his hand from the window as though burned, taking a step back. His face darkened. He turned to the others. “It’s him. That’s Deku for certain.”

“You’re sure?” asked Todoroki.

“Yeah. I am. You have to trust me on this.”

Todoroki still wasn’t convinced, but Hitoshi gave Angel a look of bitter satisfaction. He’d known the whole time.

Whatever. Angel didn’t care anymore, so long as he got out of this place before the Nightmare emerged. He went back to scrambling for the window. This time around, two normal human hands joined him in opening the window. Bakugo stood by his side, refusing to look at him.

Angel gasped as the chilly night air pooled into the room. He grinned, relief flooding him, pushing the shadow back enough that he could see straight again. He turned to send a quick goodbye to the boys standing behind him. He froze. The grin slipped from his face.

Another person had joined the group in the hospital room, one who was not a student.

Shoto Aizawa stood in the open doorway.

No, it was Eraserhead, a dark look of horror in his eyes. But that wasn’t the worst part.

His eyes started glowing red.

“Shit,” Angel said.

Chapter 28: Nightmare hates

Notes:

Is there body horror in this chapter?
YES.

Did I enjoy writing it???
HELL YEA

Skip like the first 6 paragraphs if you don't want to read. Peace ☮︎

Aizawa just managed to say, “What is going-?”

Angel screamed. The sound started in his gut and gurgled out of him in a sick, building wail. The sound silenced his teacher, who startled but did not blink. It shocked the three students into silence, staring at Angel with a mixture of horror and confusion.

Then, Angel began to change.

It felt as if the base quirk that kept his form had been torn away, leaving him fractured and unstable. Rat, Dragon, Deku, the Hound, and Nightmare emerged on the surface as the pool drained around them.

Angel coughed, and blood bubbled out of his nose and mouth. Except he wasn’t Angel anymore. Not exclusively. His feathers began sluffing off, turning into hissing smoke as they hit the ground. Dragon’s teeth emerged, which he clamped onto his arm to try to stop the screaming. The arm was leathery and slick, not Dragon’s at all. The taste was like oil and fumes. His legs became the Hounds, which collapsed under him as his bones elongated and rearranged. Rat’s spines emerged and shrank, then emerged again, ripping the back of his gown to shreds.

The pain was indescribable. Deku felt his core barely holding on amidst the horror of his body. He clutched at Angel’s mask as it started to slip away, desperately clinging to whatever secrets he had left. He couldn’t let his teacher see! He couldn’t…couldn’t…

With a loud clanking sound, water began raining from the ceiling. Deku realized he was still screaming after Aizawa’s quirk had shut off. His teacher hovered above him, panicked eyes no longer glowing, reaching out hesitantly, unsure what he could touch. There wasn’t anything he could touch that wasn’t in excruciating pain.

“What do we do?” Hitoshi demanded over the screams. He and the other boys looked down at Deku as water poured onto their heads and soaked their clothes.

Aizawa looked between his three standing students and one of the ground. For once, he didn’t seem to know what to say. The quirk that typically solved his problems had done the opposite.

But Deku didn’t want him to solve anything. In that moment, the only thing he wanted was to disappear, to die, to never have been born.

Nightmare gladly took that wish and swallowed it.

The shadow emerged like a cloak that covered Deku’s vision in darkness. Good night, little doggie, it cooed in his ear, sounding sickeningly like Dabi’s voice.

Then Deku was gone, and the Nightmare reigned.

The first thing it did was stop that screaming. How tiresome. It inspected its arms and found that the skin all over had changed to an oily black color. Its limbs were those of a normal human, but longer and frighteningly thin. They didn’t so much bend at the elbows as the whole arm curved. Very…interesting.

For the first time, Nightmare noticed the commotion happening around it. The three boys were having some kind of argument, while Aizawa exchanged words with a skull-faced hero standing in the hospital doorway. That was Ectoplasm, Nightmare’s endless memory provided. The shadow observed the torrent of water raining from the ceiling. No fire alarm had gone off to disrupt the rest of the hospital. This was a room designed to hold a person with a fire quirk. Luckily for Nightmare, the water slipped off its skin like smooth rubber. It watched the beads of water with a newborn’s fascination. Was this what it felt like to be alive? To feel anything besides fear?

Nightmare stood. Everyone in the room ceased arguing and looked at the Nightmare with newfound expressions of uncertainty. Good. This was good.

“Hello,” it said, voice smooth and slick as oil, quieter than the hissing downpour yet heard, nonetheless.

There was a long moment where they said nothing. The downpour shut off suddenly, leaving them all standing in a suffocating silence. Aizawa and the students looked much smaller with their clothes and hair sagging from the water. Bakugo pulled out his phone from his pocket and scowled at the unresponsive screen. He shoved it back, shoulders hunched as he faced the Nightmare once more. “Who’re you?” he demanded.

Nightmare ignored the question. It needed to observe before it decided on a path forward. Nightmare’s third eye pushed through the thin skin of its forehead and opened wide. The others leaned away in alarm, Todoroki’s and Bakugo’s hands at the ready, Hitoshi with his teeth set, Aizawa’s eyes widening in preparation to use his quirk again if needed.

And there they stopped, frozen.

Nightmare watched them curiously. There was so much potential in its power that Deku would simply never comprehend. The shadow liked to change, yes, and as a consequence, could heal Deku whenever it wanted. But that was not its power. That was the shadow manipulating Deku’s transformative quirk in ways the stupid boy was too cowardly to accomplish. That was child’s play compared to what the shadow could really do.

Time moved forward again, like a shadow of a shadow. Nightmare watched as it turned itself into a thousand long needles and killed the heroes. It tore through their fleshy organs effortlessly, then continued to kill everyone in the hospital. Sensei would like that. In that future, however, an annoying bystander with a communication quirk got the word out about the massacre before Nightmare could escape. A massive, impregnable dome encased the hospital, and they bombed everything within.

It was good to know the extremes the heroes would go to before allowing Nightmare out. They were commendable, even. It required a different strategy to escape.

Nightmare shuffled through a dozen different futures before finding the ones it liked the most. It knew from experience that words could be more painful than physical harm. And so it closed the third eye, and said with smooth confidence, “Angel told you not to use your quirk on him, or he would die.”

A pause, but this time it was not the Nightmare’s doing. Aizawa was thinking back to when he and Angel first crossed paths on the street. “Yes,” the teacher responded slowly. Cautiously. “I do. Are you telling me…he’s gone?”

Nightmare smiled widely, not showing any teeth. The smile vanished. It said, “You lied. You never went home. There is a hero with bird wings waiting on the top of this building. You wanted us to escape and lead you to our master.”

“No, that’s not true,” Aizawa said in a firm voice. “I never wanted you to go back to the League. Never. If there really is a hero outside with wings, he has nothing to do with my team. We knew you were trying to get out, and that the students were intervening. We thought jumping in would cause you to attempt something stupid. I didn’t expect Bakugo to help you out the window in such a state.”

He glared at Bakugo, who glared back, gesturing at Nightmare in a way Aizawa clearly didn’t understand. Bakugo sighed and said, “Never mind. Whoever you are…give us our friend back.”

The shadow turned on Deku’s “friend” gladly. “Oh, but aren’t I him? Angel was not enough for you either, yet better than you deserve. He is not allowed to hate. He is not allowed to remember. But I do. I remember everything.”

Bakugo did not cower like the Nightmare wanted. He balled his fists and set his teeth, seemingly gaining confidence. “Say whatever you need to say. I still want my friend back.”

Nightmare hummed, turning toward the open window. “He’s gone. Gone, gone,” it say out in a voice not at all suited for singing. “Broken, like the rest. But they can be fixed.”

“Fixed how?” Aizawa said, slowly creeping closer. He was obviously bewildered by the situation and was trying his best to sniff out answers wherever he could. Desperate fool, not understanding half of what he pretended.

Nightmare reopened his third eye. Aizawa flinched back, still cautious of what the eye could do. And yet the teacher could not stop staring. None of them could. Nightmare changed the eye so that it reflected a myriad of shimmering colors, swirling them around like a miniature whirlpool. How far could it go with this transformative power, it wondered.

It decided to give them a tiny portion of something true – something real. Deku had so many memories that Nightmare treasured and kept safe. Such as the time Dabi made him stand in a corner without touching the wall for two days, or when Dabi put a shock collar on him, and he and Toga made him crawl on the floor and beg. Or when Shigaraki played his focus games, such as when Deku was forced to pay attention to his every tiny movement or be cut by wires.

Endless days and months in a dark, cramped cage, with only his terrifying thoughts for company. Kicks and derogatory names and a pain in his stomach that never seemed to go away. All of that, Deku had lived with until the Nightmare came to be and ate them up.

So, so many tasty memories. But there was none better than Deku’s glorious sessions with the doctor. Hadn’t the hero made a special request? Nightmare would oblige and show him a taste of what it meant to be “fixed.”

“What are you doing?” Bakugo demanded. He and the others took a step backward, then stopped. Nightmare widened the range of his eye so that it was the only thing they could see.

“Taste a bit of truth,” it said, then plunged them deep into the well of memory.

Nightmare was Deku’s final destination for his anger, fear, sadness, regret, shame. Whatever he didn’t want to deal with at any given time, he fed to the darkness. Thanks to the doctor, Nightmare tallied the pain so that Deku could function.

And that debt would one day be repaid in full.

Nightmare laughed as he watched the expressions on the others’ faces turn from anger to confusion to outright fear. For a fleeting moment, they were Deku in the doctor’s chair, drugged into complete insanity, unaware of the time of day or even the year. Unaware of everything but the humiliation and the pain. So, so much pain. The pain of disobedience. The pain of being alive.

Then, Nightmare released them, smiling as he watched the young students drop to their knees in shock. Aizawa staggered but managed to stay standing. The teacher held his face, staring at Nightmare as if it had killed his only friend.

“What happened?” Ectoplasm shouted from the hallway. “Eraser-”

Aizawa held out his hand, staying the other hero once again even as he clutched his brow. The others seemed pacified by Nightmare’s vision. Bakugo was snarling at the floor while Hitoshi stared into space. Todoroki was seemingly having some kind of “get it together” moment, clutching his hair and shaking his head. All the vision seemed to have done for Aizawa was make him angry.

“What was that?” The hero commanded through gritted teeth. “Who the hell…? Who are you?”

Nightmare hummed disappointedly. “I already showed you. But perhaps again…?”

“No!” Aizawa raised a hand to block the eye if it opened again. “No, don’t do that again. I need to know if that was your memory or someone else’s. Who are you, exactly?”

Nightmare smiled at the teacher placatingly, like one would at an ignorant child. “If that pain were mine, or someone else’s, what would it matter to you? If it were from one of your precious students, would that make it better? Or would knowing such suffering exists in the world be enough?”

It snarled out the last part, spitting it like venom in the teacher’s face. Aizawa grit his teeth and shook his head almost like a dog trying to dislodge something from his ear. He said in a dangerously low voice, “I want to help. I want to help all of you, no matter what’s happened or how complicated things get. In order to do that, I need to understand. Please, Angel or whoever you are, please help me understand.”

“You can’t!” Nightmare hissed out, his ever-changing moods shifting to outright fury. How dare these heroes think they could do anything when they couldn’t help a single lost little boy? “I hate you, Eraserhead. I hate your unless meddling, and I hate you,” it pointed at a wide-eyed Todoroki, “for thinking your power grants you special importance to help anyone you please. And you,” it pointed to Hitoshi, “for playing at a friendship you pretend you’re too good for. And you.” It stopped at Bakugo, narrowing its eyes. “I hate you the most. You are the entire reason I exist. Did you know?”

Bakugo trembled, his teeth still grinding together and his fists clenched. He seemed to be trying to say something, but couldn’t get it past the imagined clamp around his jaw. None of the other boys seemed capable of much or anything, let alone speech. Deku’s memory had disturbed them far more than Nightmare anticipated.

It took a step forward, intending to mock Bakugo further, but stopped at a shimmer of red. Aizawa stepped in front of his students protectively. His eyes began to glow again.

This was not something Nightmare’s eye had shown happening in this timeline. It flinched backward, screeching out a sound so terrible it made Aizawa pause, just for a moment. That was all Nightmare needed. It warped and manipulated its very molecules until it was nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped patch of fog in the air. Then, the shadow fled out the open window.

“NO!” Aizawa shouted from inside, but it was too late. The shadow knew how to remain undetected. No one among the pro hero’s allies could help him here. Nightmare was gone from the vicinity of the hospital long before the red-winged hero on the top of the building knew what was going on.

Nightmare flew, sensing the world around it intuitively rather than by its senses. It knew where it needed to go. Through the streets of Tokyo, it drifted until it came to a particularly nasty part of town, where the air was filled with smog and gray hopelessness.

This was where Nightmare belonged.

It slowly coalesced as it approached the large office building, until a shadowy hand could grip the door handle and let itself inside. As usual, no attendant waited behind the front desk. The building was echoey and cold despite the lights being on. Nightmare walked silently to the elevator and got in. It contemplated the button pad.

It hit the button for the bottom floor. The elevator began to descend with a shudder.

Deku would understand eventually. One day, he would realize everything Nightmare did was for all their good.

The elevator door opened, and Nightmare patted out. It traversed the long cement hallway until it reached the metal double doors. It knocked.

A moment, and then the doors opened. The shine of thick dark glasses glinted in the darkness.

“Why hello, my lovely little Nightmare,” the doctor said, smiling, opening the door wider. “Welcome home.”