You're going to be okay.


The moment the first drops of blood bloom into her vision everything freezes. Not a single thing moves as the world freezes into perpetual stillness as Eri tries to comprehend the moment Overhaul had made the kind boy self-implode. Everything that had once made held him together scatters about. Blood flies in all sorts of directions splattering against everything with a sickening sound. It smears everything under its fingers and drips against her skin as she's left staring in the empty space that's filled with nothing but the but the sickly red that almost makes her vomit.

For a few blissful moments, blood red petals become suspended in time. Hanging in the air like crystalline rain before the world resumes in fast forward not even bothering to mourn for a boy who had done something so kind for her.

Is this how it looks like when Overhaul deconstructs her? Just tiny bits and pieces of her hanging in the air with the only sign that she had had ever existed were the crimson blood stains left to rot.

Is the world so cruel to take away something so kind? Would it so willingly burn away the last remnants of somebody so kind? Eri's throat feels like something wants to tear out of it. The desperate urge to hook out all her insides through her mouth and slam them at Overhaul's face. Even if he looks absolutely furious with his burning amber eyes Eri musters all the strength in her small arms and hits him in the leg. There are tears in her eyes as her vision blurs over as she sobs screaming out in rage and anger because it wasn't the boy's fault it should have been her.

But everything is muted. Words and movements speeding by her as her mind reels from the aftershock as she's being pulled away screaming and thrashing. Left begging for Overhaul to return the boy to what he once was because it wasn't fair. It was her fault! It was all her fault and he shouldn't have been punished for her selfishness.

She never saw this coming. Eri knew what Overhaul could do deconstructing and reconstructing everything he touched. Something she's experienced first hand on so many days. She had been too selfish and had wanted too much and this is what she had to pay because she wasn't smart enough to know better.

All she wanted was a moment. Her heart dives into the depths of her soul because this isn't fair.

It was her fault that she had misbehaved the boy shouldn't have to be punished for her mistakes.

Overhaul will reconstruct him. He has to. The world can't just let him do this! The boy who told her 'it's okay' like she deserves to be told that will come back solid, perfect and whole. He'll be reconstructed. He has to be because she wants to be held in his warm embrace again. Even if she's an ugly, horrible, monstrosity who never should have been born.

The world wouldn't let something that warm and kind be taken away so horribly.

Would it? His words so full with something as they nestled inside her chest taking root in the wasteland of her heart. It's a feeling that washes over her like a river and envelopes her in its soothing embrace. Whatever river that had filled her from before dries up quickly in the scorching sun of Overhaul's eyes. Scooped away by the greedy hands that pull her farther, and farther away.

Something builds in her throat. It twists and jumps between her muscles leaving deep bleeding trenches on the insides of her throat. It claws and screeches to be let out as she cries her silent tears.

So she screams.

Screams at the very top of her lungs to pour out all the anguish that's been forced into her since the moment she opened her eyes. Every feeling of torment spills out from her lips cutting her tongue and slicing through her skin as clawed hands ravage through her chest.

The boy will come back. He has to.

Somewhere deep in the dark corners of her mind, she can hear Overhaul whisper 'it's all her fault' if he doesn't come back.

She believes the whispered words.


You're going to be okay.


At some point in time, Izuku realizes he's awake (and very not dead thank you very much). Even if the sensation of breathing hurts. Air scraping away at his lungs and chewing at everything that makes up his body. His eyes are throbbing with his skin feeling like it's been peeled raw and left to bear the world on it's on. Everything is overturned to hell and back like his body has never come into contact with oxygen before. His whole body shudders as he sucks in a greedy gulp of air feeling the cold air chill his insides as he drags his mind away from the physical pain of existence in an attempt to do a mental catalog of everything.

Despite the dull ache in his body nothing feels broken or at the very least immediately life-threatening. There's an itchiness resting on top of his skin and a churning wrongness in his stomach but at least he can check himself off he's not immediately dying. How low his standards for existence has fallen.

For a long while, Izuku just lays there soaking in the feeling of scratchy cotton and an uncomfortable mattress with his eyes stinging behind his eyelids.

Eventually, Izuku finally does manage to crack open his eyes which in turn makes them throb even more. Everything far too bright burning their existence into his retinas. Nothing but barren cement walls greet him. Even if it's a familiar a sight he's grown used to it does little to explain why his stomach drops with the weight of disappointment.

Everything is so surreal as if he couldn't quite grasp the concept that he's alive even after Overhaul had done something to him and his body had felt like it had been ripped to shreds (but it doesn't even scratch the surface of what the doctors have done to him). The memory of meeting Eri is fresh and vivid but it leaves a sour taste in his mouth as he recalls the iron grip pressing around his throat. Izuku winces and screws his eyes shut waiting for all the sensations and memories to die down.

Which is a mistake because his mind immediately latches onto the thought of Eri leaving his heart flopping around like a suffocating fish. When he tries to search through his memories he's left with nothing but blanks. Nothing but the empty spaces from then and now. His heart twists and burns while his stomach does catapults at the sinking thought that he had failed her. Another face to add to his list sins.

The parallel of their situations is a staggering realization that grips his heart in a cage. Constricting around his body like a python. Izuku had known for a long time that there were other children like him. Stolen away from their homes never allowed to see the light of day again. He'd seen them in the cages crying silent tears as their flesh rotted away and their body failed them.

They never lasted as long as the adults had.

The one chance he had to save someone just like him and he had failed. The thought burns as it rams into him and rattles his very foundations. Another face to his list of sins. Another thing he's failed at. Does she hate him for failing her? Does she hate him as much as he hates himself? Izuku takes in a shuddering breath feeling the weight of everything pressing against his too frail body. Waves of water lap away at his marred skin seeping their chill into his bones.

He tilts his head back letting his eyes flutter to a close as he draws in another shaky breath letting the tremors travel through his body. The feeling of disappointment crashes over him filling him with its inky liquid.

Izuku hates himself. He absolutely despises himself. He hates the sins that paint the body that doesn't even belong to him anymore. He hates the fact that he's powerless in everything he does. He hates how he lets everyone around him down by simply existing.

Desperately he wishes that Eri is okay and isn't suffering the consequences of his actions. That maybe he had done the right thing in trying to console her in the long dark winding hallway of her life. It's a false hope an awful dream to believe in knowing it's not true. It never will be. Not in a million years, not in a hundred different timelines, and not in this world. The dark abyss in her eyes haunts him just as much as his own revolting face does. Even if he knows that there was nothing he could have done that would have changed the outcome his gut still churns and he still tastes bile crawling up his throat.

Izuku can't do anything. He can't change anything. He can't do anything.

Because Izuku is quirkless and useless.

Existing as nothing more but a limp puppet adrift through the vast sea. He can wish and beg as much as he wants he will never be able to do anything. No matter how much he wants to save her he can't. Even if he wants to lift her life from that ocean of misery and push her onto the safety raft before she could drown like him it won't change anything.

They could cling to something or anything that would make their miserable existence better but eventually, they would both drown. Dragged under stormy waters left to watch the waves collide under the surface. Forever numb from the biting cold with their minds lost in the ever tossing and turning of the ocean. But Izuku was only an insignificant tool to be melted down and reshaped as they saw fit.

Izuku hates himself. He hated himself since that first week in the cage as he could only watch helplessly as the people screamed and begged for help. Izuku had wanted to help them.

But there was nothing he could do.

Nothing he did or could do would change that fact. It's a conclusion he came to a long long time ago while staring at a blank ceiling for what felt like hours because he couldn't sleep (he can't sleep not with all the screams echoing in his head and the flashing images that flicker by his eyelids). Memories and words swirl around his head in an endless spiral. Izuku can't quite seem to latch onto a single train of thought anymore as memories from the League of Villains, and the facility pushes their way to the forefront while words from his past life buzz by like clouds. Thoughts of Eri and all the people he's failed swing by mixing into the torrent.

Izuku and good just don't exist in the same sentence anymore.

It's a vast sea of negativity that pushes and pulls him in all sorts of directions. Sometimes it'll lean towards his uselessness that he only existed because villains had given him a purpose. Other days it would drag him under the surface his sins crawling on his back snagging into his skin to yank him further down. But today it's guilt. It's the surging hands of the people he let down because he was nothing but a bystander as he watched them suffer. Their fingers clawing onto every part of his body to pull him down and submerge him under the thick slimy water waiting for him to drown down there with them.


You're going to be okay.


The door to his cell opens and reveals the small midget from before. Their face is hidden behind the dark lenses of their mask as the dark cloak they wore turned silver from the reflecting light in the hallway. For a moment their both left staring at each other tension building between them brick by brick. Izuku's skin crawls as anxiety nips away at his heels letting his mind go over all the countless scenarios of how badly the coming future was.

"Out." the words are sharp and pointed digging into his heart like swords. Izuku doesn't linger on any of the thoughts his mind supplies and instead focuses on stitching the hole that's been torn in his chest.

It's more difficult than he realizes getting out of bed and standing on his own two feet with his balance being all off center. Muscles pulling and pushing like it's his first time walking. His own feet clumsily taking unsure steps as he tries to cross over to the doorway. Right as Izuku seems to gain some semblance of control and basic human functionality the Yakuza member is pushing him out with the beak of its mask.

They're surprisingly fast for being so small and Izuku has to push his mind and body into overdrive just to keep pace (it's a thankful distraction because he doesn't have to think about the way guilt clings to his body like a lost child). Eventually, the walk ends with them stopping in front of a room with double doors while a vague feeling of deja vu invades his brain as the doors slide open.

The room is stocked full of large machines with tubes going in and out from the walls and metal tables lining every corner. Papers and thick dusty books scattered about the room in a disorganized mess. But what catches Izuku's eye is the type of chair sitting in the center of the room lit under the surgical lights. It's the kind of char you see at the dentist with plush grey seating and a lot of extra machinery attached to the bottom of it. The room screams indifference and cold burning metal, with distant gazes and sterile gloves splattered with red, blinding lights burning into his eyes and glinting steel-

Izuku draws in a sharp breath. He's forced into the chair and left to stew in his thoughts as the Yakuza member moves away to stand by the door. He's at the center of the room with lights pouring above him bleeding onto his skin and turning already pale skin into a nearly translucent color. Despite there not being anyone remotely resembling a scientist or doctor he has a sick twisting feeling rolling around inside him. He squeezes his eyes shut telling his brain that there will be no one to strap him in. There will be no leather digging welts into his skin as he bleeds. There will be none of that. Even if he closes his eyes and the place feels no different from the facility. Full of wretched people with twisted gnarled souls. Ready to turn a blind eye to everything.

With the only change being his purpose. Izuku wasn't the end product anymore but just another variable in the formula. Which is worse? To have your will, identity, and person stripped away or to become a replaceable spare part to be thrown away. The question leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. Leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

Footsteps are echoing down the hallway and Izuku counts the steps because he has nothing better to do except count the seconds that tick away in hopes of avoiding a mental breakdown. Nothing has truly changed. He'll be returned to All for One soon enough.

It's another prison cell.

It's another day in hell.

What's new?


You're going to be okay.


"Here."Izuku doesn't know how long he had been waiting in the room listening to the sound of his own breathing and counting the footsteps of all the guards but it's Overhaul's voice that wakes him up. After that Izuku is nearly blinded by the blatant wonder and admiration in Eri's eyes. He's shaken to his core looking at the way her crimson eyes light up in his very presence. It's so strange really. Years going by with nothing but cold indifference or badly disguised hatred and it's this look of pure admiration that has him falling in on himself.

He tries to open his mouth to say something but clamps down on it. His mind blank with relief that she's okay, and he hasn't failed her yet. Something flickers inside him. A small gust of wind blowing in the moments before a windstorm roars to life tearing apart the roots of what's already been set.

It's just Overhaul in the room with them his face a perfect mask of indifference. Izuku feels like he's being cheated out of something. A key piece of information that he just can't quite seem to glean from this man. Eri is leaning towards him but not pulling away from Overhaul even if she looks like wants to. There's no blood covering the gauze wrapped around her appendages but her face is twisted in worry marring the relief and wonder that had shone there earlier.

This meeting is a game. There is an ulterior motive Overhaul has here that will be accomplished if Overhaul plays the pieces right. It's the only thing that makes sense considering what had happened earlier. Why did Overhaul bring them together? Numerous possibilities, scenarios, and questions flicker by in his mind but none of them click into the jigsaw. There's still too many holes and not enough pieces.

The man has laid a trap with the trip wires planted with painstaking care. That much Izuku knows but he doesn't know how to navigate his way through it. There are not enough pieces on Izuku's side of the board as a timer starts ticking down counting away the seconds until the end of the game.

Overhaul lets go of her arm and Eri stumbles forward at first. Hesitation painted over her body as she draws her arms towards her chest like she's unsure if what's before her is real. There's something about her face in the way her lips tremble that tells him exactly what she's thinking. It's a face he's all too familiar with one that he wore often when he was younger. She jerks hand forward like she wants to reach out but doesn't quite know how to ask for it.

It's familiar. So Izuku swallows thickly and gently pats his legs and motions for her to come over. And then relief washes over her face crashing against her features like the ocean waves as she takes her first hesitant step towards him. When she's standing in front of him Izuku can practically feel the worry rolling off her in droves while he watches her chew at her bottom lip.

She reaches out with her hand at first as if she was about to touch the most precious thing in the world before she snaps her wrist back. Completely terrified that she would ruin the one thing she would dare hope to touch. Her whole body shakes with tiny little quakes moving away from the epicenter before the massive earthquake that follows.

And just like that, a river flows through them. The barrier holding them apart falls down and the floodgates open.

"I'm sorry-" there's so much anguish buried in those words as she trembles in front of him. Shoulders shaking rapidly as she clenches her hands into fists "I'm sorry- I'm so sorry! It's all my fault that you had to go through that-" a hiccup cuts through her sentence like a knife. Her voice trembling at all the broken syllables that fall through her mouth like glass. Her words are heavy; weighed down with all her pain and laden with tears but so full of her heart. Tears well up at the corner of her eyes threatening to fall.

If Izuku stares too long into her glistening eyes he can see himself reflecting back like a mirror. She's familiar and different all at once. Her heart pounding just as hard as his as he pulls her into his arms pressing her close to his chest. Because maybe that's what she wants to. To be able to hold onto something while you ride out the storm that rages on outside battering your worn out walls (it's what Izuku had wanted when he had still been able to hope and dream). Maybe she's just as desperate for any sort of comfort to break through the painful stagnation of her own life.

Eri is warm and so so so small against him. The feeling of the abyss that had stretched itself in front of them for a vast majority of their lives feels like at that moment shuddered closed. Like they bridged an impossible gap and filled a hole that was impossibly deep.

"It's not your fault. None of it was." Izuku wants to shelter her against the storm even as his own voice quakes and just barely reaching a volume above a whisper. Terrified that this small moment might shatter into a thousand shards that could never be salvaged back. This small fragile moment in time that's full of spider web cracks and screaming winds buffeting the walls. But it's a rare moment of softness that had rarely ever occurred in their lives.

Eri doesn't cry loudly. It's soft and quiet as if she's trying to stifle her tears like the way Izuku used to cry when Shigaraki was around. With terror running through his veins that mixed with the shards of hopelessness that cut him deep through his core. Sometimes in those days he'd shove his arm into his mouth and bite down hard enough to bleed in order to stifle the noises.

It's a horrible thought to realize that maybe she was punished for crying too.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm so-" the words keep spilling from her lips uncontrollably. Syllables slurring together as they blend into each other in incomprehensible ways. Her hiccups interrupting her words. Her shoulders shaking as she cries without a sound clutching onto the front of his shirt.

"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. It's not your fault." he can't help it when his words tremble too as if the aftershock of her emotions is starting to affect him. "Shhhh" He hushes her tightening his hold around her. "I got you. I have you. I'm not going anywhere. I promise." Izuku's own lips start trembling like hers because his heart is shaking under the weight of everything.

The world isn't fair he's learned that a long time ago.

It's in the blood that spilled from his wounds as he fought to see another day. It's spelled out in the bruises and the injections. It's a lesson that's engraved into his very bones as he was being groomed into complacency.

The will to rebel and breath was burned out of his body a long time ago.

The world is ugly and twisted. Changed far too much to backtrack and return to its roots.

But it's not different enough. It's not different enough for Izuku to able to see the fine line between black and white. It's not different enough that it makes Izuku see any other color but shades of gray.

"Eri." Overhaul steps towards them.

Izuku wants to shelter her against the coming storm (even if he knows it's futile).

Dread piles inside of him turning his insides to ice. Goosebumps rising against his skin with each step the man takes towards them. The pressure in the room intensifying monumentally. Eri doesn't even so much as twitch when darkness sweeps over Overhaul's features.

The world is unbelievably cruel.

Overhaul glowers at them. Distance no longer keeping them safe as he gets closer and closer. Everything about Overhaul's presence is oppressive; the thud of his footsteps, the sound of his knuckles cracking as he clenches his fist, and the sound of his infuriated breathing burying the sound of Eri's shallow breathing. Even the blood roaring in his ears isn't loud enough to block out the intense volume of Overhaul's anger. His heart is violent beating like a mad dog desperate to run from an abusive owner. Pressure pushes against his ribcage forcing the air out of his lungs.

In a world like this running is never an option.

It had been crossed out in bright red ink marking its lines against the scars that littered their body.

Izuku just holds onto Eri tighter feeling his muscles coil with tension as he braces himself. Eri presses herself impossibly closer her whole body going rigid as if she knew that the only way to survive in a place like this was to ride it all out.

Overhaul snatches his arm violently pulling both of them off the chair. They hit the ground with a loud thud as Eri cries out in both a mixture of shock and fear. Overhaul snatching up Izuku's arm and physically pulling them apart. Adrenaline mixes into his blood and flows through his veins. His mind races his heart beating ever faster.

One beat closer to the inevitable.

"No!" Eri cries out her voice rising an octave "You said you wouldn't hurt him!" Izuku doesn't dare turn around to look behind him. Not sure of what he's scared of seeing more. The cold glint of indifference or the glee of inflicting pain?

"It's fine." He croaks out but Izuku doesn't know who he's talking to here. If he's trying to console Eri or himself he might not ever know. She looks away swallowing thickly.

They both know nothing can be done.

"This is just a warning." Overhaul's clipped tone is completely neutral and professional as his hand tightens around Izuku's right arm for a brief second.

Pain rolls in like a steamroller barreling right into the remnants of his shoulder. Izuku's right arm literally explodes as droplets of red fly by his eyes flying away in long graceful arcs before hitting the ground. There's blood dripping down his cheek the substance dribbling down his chin and mixing in with the blood that clings to his white clothing. Flames lick at the injury just a small tingle before the fire envelopes his nerves in its hellish embrace. The worse kind of pain is the one where it's all centered on one point instead of spread out across the surface.

He'sbeen through worst. He's been through worst. He has endured worst. He's gone through the facility. He's survived the doctors. He's been punished worst than-

"Put him back!" Eri demands her voice is wet drenched in her tears and anger but coated with something far deeper than anything Izuku could name. "You promised that if I behaved he would be okay!"

"This is just an example of what were to happen if you misbehave again." Overhaul places heavy emphasis on the last word drawing out the end with a pointed barb. "If you misbehave again he's going to go through a lot worse." And it would be all your fault; the last part goes unsaid. Left hanging in the air wisping away like smoke. She doesn't say anything after that. Instead, she chooses to silently tremble like she wants to scream and pound her fist into the ground because she knows.

She can't do anything.

"Put him back." her voice is barely above a whisper and yet it's so loud. Pain and grief shout above everything else filling the room with its noise without even making a sound.

"What else Eri?"

"I'm sorry-I-I-I" She drops her head towards the ground her chest heaving as tears drop to the ground turning the cement a dark gray "-I won't misbehave again." the sentence falls out like it's been broken. Coming out as nothing more but hollow and shattered as her whole body becomes lax losing all the stiffness from before as she breaths out a long defeated sigh.

Silence is heavy in its meaning. Weighted in its implication and can be oppressive in its use. But here it is none of those things. The silence is fragile like its mourning the loss of something it doesn't even recognize.

Overhaul grips Izuku's shoulder tightly and a brief flare of pain surges through him. But it's just another drop in the pain bucket. Izuku doesn't even so much as flinch as his arm is put back together. The blood that splattered everywhere draws back to him knitting the tissues, ligaments, and bones back together again.

After that Eri is taken from the room guided out by Overhaul as Izuku's left in the room all alone with his thoughts. Never once does she look up when she's taken from the room her gaze firmly locked on the ground. Izuku doesn't know what to feel by the time the small Yakuza member returns to the room to pick him up.

Everything is a mess. His emotions jumbled together like puzzle pieces in a box. Nothing inside of him feels like an individual piece each emotion sliding into the next blurring the line between anger and guilt. What he thinks feels like relief is muddled with the aching sensation of disappointment. It's a difficult trapeze of emotions to navigate. A messy storm of destruction that leaves him feeling vulnerable like his skin has been peeled away.

Izuku knows the tell-tale signs of a mental break down as his mind spirals downward and fast. It feels like they lost the game without even know what the stakes were.

What had they lost if there had been nothing to lose in the first place?


You're going to be okay.


Izuku has never been good at keeping track of time.

Days fly by in a blur mixing into the next morning and into the last time he managed to get a good rest. It doesn't help that most of his captors have a bad habit of never telling him anything as he's always left on his own to figure what day of the week is it.

Usually, he could figure out the schedule in each prison he was kept in but here in the hands of the Yakuza, there is absolutely no type of routine at all except for meal times which only come in twice a day at random intervals. But meals were the only thing consistent in this place.

Other than that everything else is a mess. Sometimes he'll be taken out for a whole day to have his blood drawn with no recovery. Other days he won't even be removed from his room and left there to count the number of threads on the bed sheets (which so far he has gotten up to 30,567). But the most common occurrence would be when he was taken out for two sessions of his blood being drawn before being returned to his room.

That was as much of a routine as he was going to be getting from these people.

Izuku lets out a sigh dropping back against the bed to maybe try and get some form of rest. Picking at the gauze around his arms won't do anything to keep his mind away from Eri and Overhaul anyways. He hasn't seen either of the two since the second meeting and Izuku has been scouring as much of the building as possible for at least a glimpse of Eri. The sight of Eri walking past him with some invisible weight haunting her form as she walked listlessly haunts him.

His nightmares are getting worse as the whole world is turned on its head. He sees her in his dreams her body lying on top the burned remains of others before crumbling away into ash. Sometimes he'll see her alive her eyes alight with hatred as she screams and cries just like the people on the table did.

Izuku brings his hand up in front of his face watching the way his fingers curl into themselves and stretch out repeatedly. There's the sound of a doorknob turning and the wood door being thrown open before slamming against the wall.

"Don't move." Izuku drops his hand back down onto the bed his eyes locked onto the ceiling. There's some shuffling by the door until the door clicks shut and he's left alone in his cell. There's a tray sitting by the door with food resting on a porcelain plate with silver cutlery and a glass cup half filled with water.

That's new.

Izuku hasn't touched silver cutlery or a glass plate in years. He rolls off the cot and picks up the tray to bring back to the bed. Suspicion flickers through his body trying to figure out why the sudden change?

The fork feels weird in his hand. It's completely smooth as he gently he traces his thumb over the elegant curves and the simple gaps between its prongs. The food is unappetizing, to say the least, it's just rice with a sorry excuse for a steak but it's better than the nutrient blocks in the facility.

He settles himself on the bed to eat his mind moving sluggishly.

Izuku has a lot of free time here. Lots of time to be alone with his thoughts and to stare at the walls to memorize each crack that decorates them. It's too much time really.

Wading through the slew of guilt and the murky waters of traumatizing memories. All the thinking leaves him vulnerable to having a full blown panic attack.

With nothing else to keep him distracted it's a long long time of boredom mixed with pain and borderline breakdowns.

The plate is intricately detailed with blue leaves and flowers painted onto the sides with clear care for detail. There are small rises and dips on the edges of the object that flow into each other. It's quite pretty really.

He wants to shatter it.

He wants to watch the dark cracks form and see the plate splinter apart as the shards are sent flying everywhere as they crash against the cement. He wants it to break apart like the fragile thing it is. He wants to hear the satisfying crunch of it shattering apart under his hands.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he lets the plate drop against the tray and clatter loudly. The leftover rice spills out over the side but Izuku can't bring himself to eat. He tucks himself into his knees welcoming the void when he closes his eyes and takes a quiet trembling breath. The air he draws in shakes under the cavern of his lungs making his shoulders tremble. Forcing him to draw more rapid and panicky breaths.

This emptiness is a chasm.

A wide unending abyss of darkness that would swallow him whole given the chance.

His emotions are like stoic waves quietly lapping at the sands before the storm surges forward to destroy everything.

Izuku doesn't cry. Not anymore at least.


You're going to be okay.


Silence is an old friend (even if it suffocates him sometimes when he has nothing but his dark twisting thoughts to keep him company).

A friend that has been with him through thick and thin. He welcomes it with wide open arms because silence meant there would be no one to punish him. No one to walk through the door with annoyance flickering around them like flies.

Silence is blissful and suffocating.

There's a loud creak that interrupts his thoughts and Izuku jumps out of bed scrambling to regain composure. Acid burns through his skin as his eyes squint against the light out in the hall as his scan the entryway expecting to see a tall figure scratching at their neck.

"Bring the tray over." The Yakuza member is tall against the white light that outlines them. Izuku's heart jumps out of his chest. Flashes of memories rolling by his body frozen stiff. "Come on hurry up! We don't have time for you!"

But it's not Shigaraki. Not by a long shot.

He hasn't even been anywhere near that man for a long time and yet he's still terrified of his presence that lingers in the back of his mind. Existing in his brain like a ghost that refuses to move on.

Izuku wills himself to move and summon what little strength he has to push himself out of the bed and take the tray to the door. He drops off the tray where they instruct him to before he's being pulled around like a dog. It's a huge leap to assume that maybe he'll get to see Eri again this time but he can't quite bring himself to crush the hope under his foot as he lets it burn inside his heart.

After many twists and turns through long dark corridors, Izuku finds himself surprise because Eri is there standing next to Overhaul her eyes cast downwards. But All for One is here looking over Eri with what must be a critical eye under his mask. There's a long staircase behind them that's pouring in bright light from upstairs and Izuku has to squint his eyes again because he's so used to the darkness of his cell.

Horror crawls a way through his spine and up his throat as he realizes what this meeting is. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

"His blood has been working out for us." Overhaul says as they come to a stop. The gauze around his arms burns against his skin. They sear like molten lava at that statement. "We're almost done with your project you can have him back in a week at least." There's barely disguised disgust in Overhaul's voice.

The light filtering from the hole above the staircase almost gives All for One a heavenly halo as the man remains speaks "One week and I'll take it back."All for One turns his head towards Eri, "This is your main component I assume?"

Overhaul bristles as he hisses his reply out "Yes."

Anxiety pours over his skin as Izuku realizes what's happening. He has one week. One week before he's taken back to that hell-hole to be turned into whatever they saw fit. His skin prickles as he takes in a sharp breath. He screws his eyes shut sterile lights flashing by and dark figures hovering over him.

"How's the formula coming along?" One for All Places his hand under his chin as he turns his blistering gaze at Izuku which makes him flinch back squaring his shoulders and turning his gaze towards Eri instead.

"We're almost done with the prototypes there are still some issues we're working out with it but it's almost done."

Eri is stock still beside Overhaul her eyes locked onto the ground while her petite form looking like it was made of marble. There's more blood staining the gauze she wears as Izuku notes the only color in the room comes from Overhaul's mask and the crimson splotches splashed across Eri's bandages. It's a stark contrast that makes his insides turn into ice because they're hurting her to achieve their own twisted and warped goals.

"How about RA-01?" His own stomach plummets as Eri perks her head up at the last words. His throat turning dry as he expects Overhaul to say something and have All for One punish him for his outbursts.

"He's making Eri difficult to control." It's the only he says Overhaul says warily taking a step back away from All for One. Surprisingly All for One doesn't make any indication he was going to punish Izuku for bad behavior.

After that Eri and Izuku are taken away guided out by the guards to be returned to their cells.

The conversation continues without them even as Izuku heart sinks through his body and his lungs start panicking because he's not breathing properly. He has one whole week until he's returned. One whole week to get out and avoid a fate worse than death.

They have seven days.

Seven days for Izuku to get out and take Eri with him to save the light in a girl's eyes.


You're going to be okay.