"-yet another case belonging to Stain and his 'heralds'. --*hero name here*--, after recovering enough from his wounds, has been moved to the assisted living ward for victims of the four murdering vigilantes. Their message and goals continue to integrate into modern society; there was another protesting group outside the city hall again last night. The common people are demanding change in laws, some, even, going so far as to demand the removal of the hero system altogether-"

A rush of static filled the near empty room, the two occupants watching the screen as the channel changed. An American news broadcast filled the screen. "A small terrorist group from Japan has recently shaken our country. This so called 'Stain', and his loyal followers, seems to be spreading his vision worldwide, having already killed and maimed several of our Pro Heroes. They made several public appearances, blatantly displaying their views. Despite that they have fled the country, their viewpoint has invested itself into the people and media-"

This change of channels to different countries continued on, one after another.

"Oh enough with this already." The thinner of the two occupants, half hidden in shadow, leaned back, setting his empty teacup aside. "Quit having the television speak for you and tell me what you dragged me here for yourself."

The TV clicked off, the second person turning to face his guest with a stern neutral expression. He folded his well muscled arms across his chest. "You really can find a way to work yourself into anything, can't you Izuku." Katsuki Bakugo asked, not really meaning his question.

Izuku chuckled, trailing circles in the air with a lazy hand. "It is one of my many, many specialties. But that still does not explain why I am here."

"You somehow manage to survive against all odds, make people listen to you, and evade every single attempt made by Pros and Police alike to capture you." Bakugo was barely moving, glaring straight into Izuku's eyes; green and red locked together.

"So you've brought me here just to list facts about me?" He learned his head forward, body going quite still. "I good at my job, get over it. If you don't have anything of substance for me, I will readily leave and get back to work: The Lazarus Table is in dire need of work."

Bakugo moved first. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a simple vanilla folder, tossing it onto the table without flare. "This is intel from spies we've placed in the League. I think you'll come to the same conclusion I have."

Izuku finally moved, setting his feet back on the ground from where they had been lingering on the table. He bent forward and flicked the cover open with one long, thin finger. The sunlight fell across his face and neck. Revealing only part of the damage done to him over four long years, there were many more scars that could not be seen. Many were not even physical. His green eyes, dulled with boredom and annoyance, scanned the pages.

A spark of interest ignited in them. He stretched out his left hand (which had long since suffered from a chemical burn that spread up his arm to the back of his neck) and grasped the other end of the folder. His fingers of his whole right hand drifted across the lines of text. Izuku didn't like what he saw.

"So the living jokes are getting desperate to make an impact on society. I'll admit, that is certainly ambitious." The folder fell back flat again the table, green eyes lifting up to meet red once more. "You're right. I do know what it is you came to. If they really are planning to amass so many villains and criminals, you Pros would severely struggle against such a great force. Especially since your numbers are dwindling."

Katsuki scowled. "You're not really helping that, by the way."

"On the contrary, I am the greatest reason that is happening, so I would say I am helping reduce the number of Pros."

"Not what I meant."

"What you said though."

"Are you serious."

"Dead serious."

Izuku broke into a wide-Cheshire grin at their banter, all of his teeth exposed, as Bakugo rubbed his forehead. He had to forcefully will himself to stay calm. "Stop it. You know what I'm asking- no, don't give me that crap." He hastily interjected as Izuku opened his mouth to deliver more snark. "You know what it is that I am wanting."

The mirth evaporated off of Izuku's face. "I do know what you want. I'm not sure if Master will agree however."

Katsuku sighed, an earnest look in his eyes. "I'm not asking for all four of you to help, just you Izuku. A strategy at least."

Izuku was silent for a moment. His chair creaked as he rocked himself back and forth on the back legs. "Why are you asking me to help? There are plenty of strategy Pros and counselors for you to fall back on. Why me."

"'Cause you're the smartest and strongest guy I know? 'Cause you have access to resources and information I can only dream of? Why do you think?" He pushed his hands up his face, pulling his hair and stomping about the room. It was taking all of himself not to start screaming; his voice of reason (which helpfully mimicked his girlfriend's voice) was chattering away in his ear, telling him to calm down before he lost control of his power. Again. Breathing deeply through his nose, Bakugo took several seconds to simply breathe and let his shoulders relax. "Izuku, people will be at risk here. Not just the Pros, not just the police, people. On a far greater scale than we've seen in years. The Pro and government forces are tied up, because people are siding with your views. We can't move with the same freedom as before." He slowly turned to gaze at his lost friend. "Izuku if we go up against the League like this, we won't make it. Please, at least a strategy."

Izuku was staring at Katsuki, mouth ajar. He was already planning on helping -had been as soon as he had looked at the folder- but he hadn't expected such a passionate outburst. "You've changed so much Kacchan." His voice was quiet, his eyes distant.

"Don't make me say please again."

"Of course I'll help you." Izuku started to rise from his chair. "I'll talk with Master later, see what we can work out."

As he stood, Izuku's true size was revealed. He had never gotten buff, with a large body like Master's or Katsuki's, or even Dabi (who had bulked up a bit himself). From a distance he looked as though you could snap him in between your fingers. He was skin, thin muscle, and bone. Ever since his 'incident', he'd had trouble keeping his weight up; he had next to no fat on his body, and not in a healthy way. Izuku had, however, grown tall. Extremely tall. He was a long, thin, gangly creature, more like a living skeleton than a human being. Being a full head taller than Katsuki, Izuku effortlessly dominated the room.

Preparing to leave, he drifted his hands to exposed circuitry integrated into his own body. Side of wrists, back of neck, collarbone, temples, stretch along hips -- touching each (not necessarily in the order listed) activated his Apprentice wear. The cloth and armor materialized along his body, the brand new outfit still shiny and clean.

"Went for an upgrade did you?" He spoke, referring to both the flashy method of donning his outfit, and the new style.

Stain's Apprenrice chuckled, the leather-like fabric flowing about his body. "I figured my old coat was a bit childish, and went for a more intimidating look." He watched his old tormentor through his reflective goggles, eyes hidden. "I'll come back to talk with you later. Who knows. Maybe I'll get Master and the boys to help as well."

The cloaked figure turned towards the door, heavy boots connecting solidly with the floor. One of his long arms swayed behind him. A hand, cold and desperate, latched onto his wrist, and the living skeleton felt the burning, rough contact through his layers of his thick, protective clothing. He whipped his body around, defensive aura palpable, but didn't dare try to free his hand.

Katsuki was holding on tightly, eyes wide and wanting. Stain's Apprentice knew what his old tormentor was going to say before the words were uttered. They had been asked before.

"When are you coming back?"

The same answer as the time before (and the one before that, and the one before that) silenced the room. Long fingers, wrapped in a sleek glove that conformed to his thin body, easily pryed his arm loose. He had only ever given two answers to that question; one when he and Katsuki had reunited, no more secrets between them. The second he had given ever since, and would continue to give.

"I think I've answered enough of your questions today."

Stain's Apprentice was "roof-topping" across the city. Fast and unnoticed. Just how he and his master preferred to be. He could have taken the streets and alleyways, but they were too slow; besides, after keeping his emotions under tight control with Katsuki, he needed the wind and adrenaline to clear his mind. Fingers brushing against his temples, he deactivated his "second pair of eyes". The Apprentice and his business partner, Kai Chisaki, were responsible for his implants, and had developed the devices for his sight six months after his eyes had been damaged. (Rather, the nerves surrounding his eyes had been damaged, which inhibited his eyesight.)

He ran for what he was worth. In situations as this, when his eyesight was flickering and his body was moving at superhuman speeds, logic and gut instinct were his most trusted allies (aside from Master, but that is without saying.)

Years ago, before his implants, he had trained himself to use a basic form of echolocation. The repetative sound of his boots and the city sound, coupled with what he could see inbetween flickers of sight, painted the rooftops in his mind. He pressed onwards. He didn't want to be late. He was never late for this day, for this occasion. He couldn't let her down by being late.

The figure continued on, finally reaching the desired destination. A graveyard, located next to a park. The Apprentice slowed, landing amongst the stones softly. He walked reverently, dematerializing his outfit until he was back once again in his sweatpants and oversized wooly sweater. The fabric scratched at his skin, but he didn't mind anymore. Izuku had long since grown used to itchy clothes that didn't fit his abnormally long and thin body. He often handmade his clothes, but they weren't like hers. She had been a great sewer. Izuku hadn't taken the time to learn much from her and learned most of what he knew from Dabi, who was self taught, and the internet.

Her sewing skills weren't all that Izuku missed. As he travelled through the graveyard, maintaining respect for the graves he passed by, his mind let him think he smelled her chicken katsudon recipe. The smell then morphed into the scent of his favorite cookies, made from scratch, as the sound of her tinkling laughter filled his being. Allowing a tear to roll down his face, Izuku slowly approached the grave.

It was here that he truly felt as if he were an actual human being still. It was something that he had struggled with ever since her death. Something even Master couldn't always fill.

He sank to his knees before the stone, more tears falling silently. Izuku pulled a small device from his pocket, pressing a button softly. A metallic bouquet expanded in his hand: no sharp or pointed edges, beautiful, lovely colors, all of her favorite flowers, a loving inscription carved into a metallic plaque. 'Here lies an angel, gentle in all her ways, loving mother to one who did not deserve her.'

"Sorry I couldn't get real flowers Mom." Izuku Midoria spoke quietly to the cold stone, wishing his mother could hear. "I've become kinda allergic to them now, and besides, I made these waterproof so they won't rust on you." He adjusted one petal, making sure it was perfect. "I miss you. I wish I could see you again, but I don't think you'd recognize me. I'm not the same hopeful kid you raised. I don't look pretty. But hey, studies say a mother and her child can always recognize each other, despite if they're blindfolded or have been separated for years."

Izuku Midoriya looked sadly at the tombstone. "Too bad we won't get to meet again. I don't believe in ghosts, or any sort of spiritual matters. I don't want to either. The last thing any of us four needs is one of us being chained down emotionally by some new strange morals. But Dabi- heh, wish you could have met him- can actually be really superstitious at times. You'd've liked Toy. He can be kinda sweet- in a protective older brother kind of way. (He sometimes talks about reuniting with his actual brothers and sister, maybe even his own mother. He says his girlfriend is the main reason, but I'm still not convinced she isn't imaginary.) Spinner too, despite his extravagant behaviour at times. I wish you and Master had met a second time- you did meet once yeah? I can barely remember these things now- I wish you had gotten to see him as I do. Uncle Elija, Auntie Lily, Matthew, and even little Rose would have simply adored you. The baby is quite healthy by the way, all our worrying was for nothing."

Izuku continued talking to his mother's grave. Softly and happily mumbling from one subject to another, he spent a whole hour in that graveyard. He kept sneezing too. A patch of daisies were growing around her grave. (Daisies were always one of her favourite flowers, so Izuku didn't dare uproot and toss them.)

Eventually though, it was late, and Izuku had to pull himself from the quiet of her grave. Two more tears fell and watered the daisies. Izuku moved on.

Izuku walked home from there. He was drained of all emotion, and neither needed nor wanted to climb to the roof tops. He submerged himself into the crowd, hidden behind his cold mask, glasses, and old -though much beloved- flamingo patterned white beanie. People avoided him while rarely taking notice of him. It was something that had followed Izuku all his days, and that had only grown with time. They had places to go, so they just avoid that tall, skinny thing in the corner of their eye, and kept moving. Children looked at him though. They often gawked at his height and dorky way of dressing himself. He loved waving at them, and pulling down his mask - when he was sure no one would look - and smiling at them. Some smiled and waved back, others turned to their parents. Izuku was always gone before they could see what their children had bothered them for.

The tall, well kept buildings slowly morphed into smaller apartments in need of a remodel. Soon, they changed again, into clunky old apartments and houses that were dilapidated and desperately needing city management to help. Among these, one of the tallest buildings in the area was the nicest looking buildings. It was by no means easy on the eyes, nor had it always been so well kept.

The apartment complex, over two and a half years of management and internal remodel, had been changed into a strange form of shelter for the poor and homeless. There was a food kitchen, clean apartments, (many of which had been modified to accommodate two small families), a comfortable lounge on the bottom floor, and a stretch of mildly well kept gravel and mulch - accompanied by toys, two slides, and a swing set - for children. Rules of living there? Stay clean, respect others privacy and belongings, (even if you are living with another family), help whenever you are available, and do not enter the top floor. Simple enough.

There were two groups who occupied the top (sixth) floor. One family, the Woods. The two children, Matthew (10) and Rose (1.5), were always a happy sight to see, with Matthew oftentimes carrying his sister piggy-back style to make her giggle. The wife and mother, Lily, ran the food kitchen whenever she was able and acted as much as she could as a second mother to the children who stayed under her roof. They always got extra food. Whenever there was dessert, the little ones always got first helping. The father and loving husband was less involved in social activities. He mostly only helped with renovation. Everyone knew he was associated with the other residents of the top floor, and was often busy training with his rifle - among other things - so, when he was needed, he could be of service.

Every person who came under the care of the Woods family, sooner or later learned of the top residents. They were infamous, yet quite recluse. No one spoke to the outside world that they had Stain (more importantly, his chosen apprentince) and his loyal followers living above their very heads. Stain himself kept away from the poor and homeless residents whenever possible. (His startling appearance often scared women and children, and he was never good at being nice. He was honest, and honesty hurts most times.) Spinner was often exempt from social interactions as well. He was rather unaware of his size and often tripped and stumbled over nothing, not to mention his sizable and clamorous personality. One little girl had claimed him as her best friend. She was alone in that, for he scared the others, but neither minded. Dabi, again, scared the children, so he usually worked in the kitchens with Mrs. Woods. He was quite used to the work - it was how he had cared for himself when he was living on his own - and was one of the best cooks in the entire building. He always talked gently and encouragingly to the children, remembering how his own father had treated him, and they were slowly opening up to him.

It was Izuku that they loved though. He always had a smile and a piece of candy or another sweet ready for them. It had become a tradition for him to stop by the backyard to visit his favourite kids at least once a day. The few who were in some form of schooling often came to him for help, and he (the brilliant and kind hearted boy that he was) always stopped to help. When science work, training, college, and anything else he could think to apply himself to got boring or stressful, Izuku liked giving free homeschooling lessons for the children who couldn't afford to be schooled. They claimed he was a great teacher. Whoever it was who was caring for a child agreed that Izuku was helping tremendously.

As he stepped around the building he called home, the children saw him immediately. They rushed over with cries of "Apprentice!" or "Izuku!" Matthew and his sister were present, and he rushed over with a hearty cry of "Big brother!" Izuku laughed, kneeling before them and hugging each; he made an effort to remember each one's name, or the nickname he had given. With a hug and candy scattered into their dirt covered palms, they ran back off. They seemed to have dug a hole. The small children surrounded it, chanting "quirk hole, quirk hole" as those with manifested quirks stepped inside and showed off. Izuku wasn't sure how to feel about that, but he let it slide. He'd tell their caretakers later.

With Rose in his arms and Matthew on his back, Izuku meandered inside. He smiled and nodded to the residents. Similar gestures were returned, some even addressing him by name as he passed by. He cut by the kitchen, calling to Mrs Lily and showing that he had her children clinging to his body. They laughed and giggled as he sprinted up the flights of stairs, stomping forward like some gremlin in his heavy boots. At the top, Matthew slid off of him as warm butter. Rose still cling to his shirt, more than content to stay even though she knew who she was approaching.

Izuku had to fumble his keys, trying to unlatch the ring with only one hand. Moving without thinking, he brought the key to his mouth, bit down, and pulled.

Wrong key.

Trying not think about what he just put in his mouth, Izuku looked for the correct key, and repeated the movement. The fake teeth of the key slid off, revealing a long thin pin. Once slid in, the door to the top floor popped open. In they filed, Matthew first, then Izuku and Rose.

Elija, their father, was in the hallway, and Izuku suddenly found himself abandoned as Rose nearly jumped to be in her father's arms. The sweet sight reminded Izuku of what he wanted. Leaving Elija to be swamped by his loving kids, he slipped by them. He wanted his own father.

As soon as he opened the door to their side of the top floor, he got what he wanted.

Izuku was wrapped in Akaguro's arms before he could truly process the loving welcome shout. He closed his eyes, letting tension he didn't know he was holding in melt out of his body.

There was an accompanied excited bark and his therapy and assistance dog Remy bounded over to Izuku, wanting all of his attention for herself. They weren't sure what breed she was; she was mostly a scientific experiment on Kai's part. With thick golden-blonde fur spotted and highlighted by many other tans, browns, blacks, and whites, she was a beautiful sight to see.

He was safe. He was home. No one could harm him here. His father's touch never burned as Katsuki's or the others' did. It was only ever warm, and perfectly safe.

Soon, by means of tapping him on the back with a spoon, Touya demanded his attention. Not caring that there was a sauce splatter on his shirt, Izuku hugged his "big brother". He didn't waste energy on really listening to their family-like rambling. He was tired. He didn't really pay attention as he was sat down at the table with a warm meal of chicken katsudon. Izuku believed he had long since mastered the art of talking without using his brain.

He hadn't.

Master and Touya noticed of course. It was hard to miss when Izuku was in another world. Spinner knew, but Dabi and Akaguro were closest with Izuku, cared for him, and worried for him the most. Sure, Izuku could half-way keep up a conversation, but he wasn't really there with them. That much was clear.

It was something that scared them both.

Oftentimes there was a blank look in his eyes - one that couldn't be attributed to that damage done to them. He forgot things. He would, on bad days, stand in the kitchen for minutes at a time, glaring at the calendar to try and remember some important date he'd forgotten about. Chizome and Touya often brought his meals to him. If they didn't, he'd forget to eat. He got tired easily, having never recovered properly from his "incident". He would tell them how at times, he couldn't really feel emotions.

Like, a switch in his brilliant brain had been flipped. He often stared at his pictures to remind himself of his past, for he found himself forgetting his mothers face far to often, or why Katsuki was important to him.

These blank moments were few and far enough between, but his ragtag adopted family still worried.

Akguro stepped up to his son. He rubbed his hand along that thin shoulder. "Hey. You still with us kid?"

Izuku started, looking up to his father and master with a wide smile and clear, loving eyes. "Oh, yeah. Guess I just spaced out huh?"

At least he could still feel love.

"Hey, lil' bro is almost eighteen now." Dabi said spoke up from where he stood cleaning dishes. He and Akaguro always tried to rope Izuku properly into conversations when he had his blank moments. They infact had a whole system. "Whaddya want for your birthday dinner? Chicken katsudon again? Curry? American chili and fries?"

Izuku sighed. "I don't think we're going to be able to celebrate my birthday this time around."

Two pairs of eyes, white and blue, snapped to Izuku and locked on. "What happened to birthday mall shopping spree?" Touya asked, thoroughly indignant that he could be denied spending three hours in edgy punk goth teenager stores.

Why he still went to such stores when he was almost thirty was a mystery to them all.

Izuku quickly explained what Bakugo had come to him for, and what he had agreed to do. Contemplative silence filled the room. It was heavy enough to silence Spinner before he could greet them in his usual loud fashion.

"What's going on???" He whispered, closing the door behind him.

"I don't like this. I don't like having to work with others." Akaguro paced back and forth, his step heavy, even without his own boots. "You're seriously going to help?"

"At least with a strategy -- I dunno, I just can't abandon him to almost certainly die. All for One is going to be there. We all know he will. Shigaraki too no doubt, along with the rest of the league. A mass army of villains? Against dwindling Pro forces and a constrained police force?" Izuku shrugged and fidgeted. He knew he was at least partly responsible for the situation. The people had been throwing the riots and protests, demanding changes in laws and hero ethics and slowly getting a little of what they wanted, but he was the one who had inspired them. "I'm mostly just wondering how far you'll let me go on this one. . . . Master?"

Chizome had his fingers steepled in front of his mouth, not speaking. Touya was quietly filling Spinner in on what had happened in as few words as possible. Akaguro was just breathing; it was how he thought and planned: breathe deep. He had his answer.

"I'm not sure yet. We'll sleep on it. Speaking of, you need to get to bed."

Izuku nodded along, finally realizing how heavy his pencil-like body felt. Dragging himself to his feet, he allowed Spinner to hug him and perform their customary greeting (a head-butt) before saying a sleepy good-night and wandering off for bed. Akaguro followed him, saying less emotional farewells.

"Master?"

"Mmm?"

Half dressed and standing before him, Akaguro could see every blemish and scar on his boy's frame. The massive chemical burn along his left arm and shoulder, the ugly scar along his right side that had once been infected, the tangle of scars about his eyes, a thin and ragged line on his cheek and a thick one from a creature's claw on his chin, each and every one of his 'little ones'. He almost decided then and there that there was as no way he could let Izuku put himself in such danger.

But no. His son, his pride and joy, was strong. He only didn't look it. And that young man, (for, at nearly eighteen, he was a young man) could have cracked interdimensional travel if he had wanted. After all, he'd already done so many scientific breakthroughs. Izuku could do anything he truly wanted. Akaguro wouldn't have been (terribly) surprised if the kid found a way to reverse death. He'd come close with that Lazarus Table, but that was half dismantled for upgrading reasons.

Yes, his son was strong, smart, and utterly ruthless when he wished to be. And when Izuku Chizome Midoriya stood before his father as he truly was, Akaguro could barely say no to anything his son wanted.

"I'm, scared, for this. Can, can I sleep with you again tonight?"

"Of course Izuku."

And that was how Akaguro spent that night: Izuku pressed into his side next to the wall, shifting to get Remy's weight in a position where his legs wouldn't fall asleep. (Once she got comfortable on a bed to spend the night, she didn't move.) Izuku's cold and bony body didn't bother Akaguro anymore. They'd shared beds multiple times; the night after he took his first life, when Izuku had particularly bad nightmares since then, out of necessity, (they kept somehow getting hotel rooms with only two beds, and he wasn't sharing with either Matchstick or Lizard), or if Izuku just wasn't feeling comfortable, like tonight.

Chizome turned his head slowly to his son's, running his fingers through Izuku's mop for hair. The boy had already fallen fast asleep. With a gentle kiss to Izuku's forehead, he slowly fell asleep as well.

A/N

Oh boy was this a whopper to write. BUT IT IS HERE! HURRAH THE LAST IS HERE! AFTER SO MUCH WRITERS BLOCK IT HAS COME!

Three cheers for me. What fun.

Well, I do hope that you all weren't lost by my strange way of showing how far our bois have come. I tried to sum it all up, not in long paragraphs, but just in either casual mention (Izu's business partner Kai, Toy's girlfriend (no, she isn't imaginary), the baby girl, ect), or in the the people and what they know (baby Rose again, Master and Dabi working with Izu's new, condition, shall we say, ect). I tried to keep exposition in direct paragraph from at a minimum (description of the apratment building, Izu's body and bodily problems, ect again). Of any of you were confused by the "incident", that just is his fight with AM.

Also, yeah, he's got some problems. Both bodily and mentally. And we'll get to see more of those problems along the line. *rubs hands together evilly* hehehe, I have so much pain to dish out hehehe.

And yeah, I know I said I'd get two chapters up to start, but this one is pretty decent sized and it took me so long to flipping write it, that you'll be fine with just one. If not, too bad.

Annnd, I think that is all I've got to say. Sooooo,

SO LONG MY LOVIES