Two days later, Izuku got a text. As soon as his eyes landed on his phone's screen and he saw who it was from and what it said, he was on the move.
Izuku rose to his feet and walked briskly towards the UA gym, his mind wrapped in layers of worry so thick he almost ran into his fellow students once or twice on the way. He couldn't help himself; he was thinking about Nana.
The nightmares-or memories, if that was what they were- were getting worse.
Each of the last two nights, Nana had been waking up screaming and thrashing, the link filled with terror and grief and loss so potent it left Izuku feeling just as hollow as Nana did. And every time, Nana had no memory of what had caused it; all she had were the ghosts of emotions that slipped through her fingers like sand.
Even though the bags under her eyes got worse every day, as nights of fitful, rare sleep weighed on her, Nana still never stopped smiling. She fought like hell to pretend nothing was wrong, to go about her life as an unstoppable force of nature. She almost managed it, too; to most of the world, it seemed like nothing was wrong. Nana was the same joking, mischievous, endlessly heroic badass she always was.
Izuku saw through it, though, because he knew just how much of that smile was fake, even as it grew thinner and paler with every memory that haunted Nana. She was clinging to him more, too, her knuckles turning white as she clutched at his arms like he was the last thing holding her up.
That scared him just as much as the nightmares did. Somehow, he knew that Nana wasn't sure of herself anymore, that she was holding onto him because he was the last thing that seemed steady enough for her to rely on. He knew that she was terrified that the sudden change for the worse with her memories was the beginning of the end, that she might not have as long of a second chance as she thought she did.
Izuku did everything he could to help; he held Nana close when the memories came, comforted her when they left again, did his absolute best to help Nana snatch the tiny moments of peaceful sleep she could get. It wasn't enough, and it was wearing on him, too, but…it was something he could do, in the face of a problem he didn't know how to fix.
But maybe a solution had just offered itself; maybe there was hope.
At last, Izuku reached the gym, finding his way to his destination with ease. He just followed the sound of flesh and metal strained nearly to the breaking point, punctuated by an endless melody of blows.
Izuku turned a corner to find Nana whaling on a punching bag with animalistic fury. Sweat streamed down her straining muscles as she moved, the air crackling with her ferocity. She moved almost too fast for Izuku's eyes to track, and the poor punching bag looked about ready to give up the ghost-it was vibrating wildly, the sound of the chain it hung on a constant, tortured-sounding clatter.
Izuku stayed quiet as Nana continued to take out a seemingly endless amount of frustration on the punching bag. Aside from his desire to not interrupt and potentially get one of those fists flying towards his face by "accident" (Nana had a bad habit of using people who interrupted her workouts as extra training dummies), Izuku knew that Nana was trying to work herself to exhaustion to earn herself as much actual sleep as she could. It worked, but not enough; Nana had barely slept four hours the night before, and the night before that had been even worse.
At last, Nana pulled back her right arm for a massive hook, and pushed forward with a cry of exhaustion and anger and a hundred other feelings Izuku couldn't identify. The punching bag, already weakened by hours of pummeling from a literal superhuman who only Izuku himself could match, finally met its ignominious end. The chain holding it up snapped, and the whole bag, several hundred pounds at least, went flying like it was made of tinfoil, slamming into the wall behind it. If said wall hadn't been reinforced and several feet thick for exactly this reason, it would have left quite the crater.
Having beaten at least some catharsis out of her innocent victim, Nana stood, statuelike in her follow-through pose, in the center of the gym, panting. Izuku could almost imagine smoke rising from her fist.
He cleared his throat, and Nana's eyes went wide as she turned. Somehow, the frustration on her face evaporated like morning mist, replaced with a shining love that Izuku still couldn't quite believe was directed at him.
"Hey, babe," she said as she walked towards him. Something about the way she looked, sweaty and flustered, the tight-fitting gym clothes emphasizing every curve and muscle on her sculpted body, made Izuku's voice catch in his throat for a moment.
"Goddamnit Izuku, just because your girlfriend really is stupidly hot, you can't just-" he thought to himself as he wrestled control back from his lower half.
Nana's grin only sharpened, though it still seemed pale and weak compared to how she'd been before the nightmares started. "I heard that," she teased, enjoying every second.
Maybe Izuku would have blushed more furiously, once upon a time, but so much time with Nana had made him more resistant to her jokes. Besides, he was on a mission.
Instead of trying to explain it, Izuku just held up his phone to show the message, knowing Nana could look into his head for more context if she needed to.
Nana's smile slipped off her face like the facade it was, revealing the core of exhaustion and weariness that scared Izuku so much. She read the text quickly. It wasn't long, after all.
All Might: Could you and Nana come to my office? We need to talk. It's time she learned the truth.
Nana looked back up, trying her best to revive her carefree smile. It didn't go well with the bags under her eyes.
"Well, that's ominous," she observed even as she gratefully took the towel Izuku offered her.
"It is," Izuku agreed, "but I think it's important."
Nana frowned as she finished a quick dry-off, shaking her hair out and feeling it settle around her shoulders. "I have a pretty good idea of what he wants to talk about," she said. She didn't look happy about it.
"What?" Izuku asked, even though he could put the pieces together well enough.
Nana's eyes were devoid of their usual electric, vividly alive quality as she answered, "My past. What else?"
Her words hung in the air, like a heavy blanket suffocating the conversation. Nana didn't look eager to know why the emotions left behind by her nightmares were so painful, but she didn't look like she was going to say no, either; if anything, she just looked…resigned. As if she had accepted her fate, even though she knew it would only hurt her. The look made Izuku want to wrap her in his arms and put her somewhere safe, so nothing could ever hurt her again…but he couldn't do that.
He could support her, and ease her pain, and be there for every step of the way, though. And he knew he always would, as long as she would let him. Even if he couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that had settled over him; something was about to change, and he didn't know how to prepare for it.
"Look on the bright side," Izuku said gently as he took Nana's hand, "maybe his explanations will help you with the nightmares."
Nana nodded absently. Softly, as if she was scared to admit it even to herself, she replied, "I hope so. Because if it doesn't, I don't know what I'll do."
When they walked into Toshinori's office, they found him looking hollow and pained; his eyes stared sightlessly out the window. Izuku had never seen his hero look so tired and beaten, not even after Kamino Ward and his final battle with All For One.
Nana seemed to notice something was wrong, too. As she closed the door, she asked, "Toshi, is something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Toshinori's eyes shifted onto her, and he gave something like a snort. Tiredly, he replied, "I suppose I have. Too many."
Izuku thought that All Might looked old then, older than he'd ever looked before. Something about the way he slumped in his chair and stared anywhere but into his students' faces suggested that he was dreading the conversation ahead.
As Izuku and Nana took their seats, Izuku asked, "What did you want to talk to us about, All Might?"
Once, Toshinori would have replied with a grin and a good-natured jab about calling him "Toshinori" instead. But there was nothing, no flicker of life from his hollow, skull-like face. Instead, he turned to Nana and asked, "A while ago, you asked me to wait to tell you anything about your…past…until you felt ready to handle it. I don't think I can keep hiding things from you like this much longer. So, tell me…do you think you're ready?"
"No, Nana," Izuku thought desperately as soon as he saw the grim determination in his girlfriend's eyes, "this is a bad idea, you shouldn't confront something like this when you've gotten so little sleep and you're still dealing with the nightmares-"
Nana cut him off the same way, telling him, "I have to do this, babe. It's the only way I'll know why the nightmares make me feel so awful. Maybe…maybe if I know, it won't hurt so much."
Izuku doubted it, could hear the way Nana was lying to herself as she spoke in his mind. But he could see her emotions, too, and they were a raging storm he didn't know how to calm. Nana didn't see any way out of this, and she seemed to have given up trying to find one.
She looked like a convict marching to her execution as she nodded once and said, "Yeah, I am. Tell me everything."
Nodding, Toshinori turned to Izuku, his eyes filled with sorrow. "Young Midoriya. Izuku," he began, surprising Izuku by using his given name, "you don't have to stay for this. All of what I'm going to talk about happened long before you were born; I don't want you to suffer because of what happened decades ago. Would you like to leave?"
Before Izuku could say a word, Nana leaned forwards, exhaustion-fueled anger coloring her voice as she snarled, "He stays."
Toshinori looked stunned by Nana's outburst. He tried again, saying, "Nana, I don't want him to-"
Impulsively, stupidly, Nana grabbed for Izuku's hand, twining her fingers with his, clutching so hard it hurt. Izuku looked at her, shocked, as she lifted their interlocked hands above the desk for Toshinori to see. Nana's body nearly shook with barely-contained energy as she repeated, "He. Stays."
If Toshinori heard her, he didn't show it. His eyes were locked on the point where Nana and Izuku's hands linked together, until he finally tore them away.
Hollowly, as though the realization hadn't energized him but instead frozen him solid, Toshinori asked, "You're…together, aren't you?"
Izuku's blood went cold as the secret shattered, but Nana's expression only grew more combative. Her lack of sleep and desperation for Izuku's support were combining to make her mood more combative and challenging, and it showed as she replied, "Yes. We've been together for weeks, ever since I came back. He's supported and helped and loved me all that time. I couldn't make it through this without him."
Toshinori didn't respond. Desperate to relieve some of the guilt that coursed through him, Izuku added, "I'm sorry. We didn't tell you because…because we knew how you saw Nana, and we didn't want to make all of this harder for you."
Still, Toshinori didn't speak, or move, or even really react beyond a long sigh of bone-deep weariness. He stayed like that for a moment that didn't seem to end, as Nana and Izuku's hearts beat in sync, waiting nervously for the hammer to drop.
At last, Toshinori met their eyes again. In a voice filled with words he couldn't say, he told them, "You don't need to apologize. I understand."
Izuku felt stunned. He protested, "But…but we lied to you!"
Toshinori nodded emptily. "You did," he agreed, "but…I've been lying to you, too. I can't exactly claim the moral high ground here. And besides…"
Toshinori trailed off, his voice fading for a moment. Suddenly, to both Nana and Izuku's shock, he chuckled once, a short, sharp, bitter sound that was more like a bark than a laugh. It was angry and painful-sounding, heralding a deep struggle in Toshinori's heart.
Hanging his head and speaking through gritted teeth, Toshinori continued, "And besides, what right do I have to protest, when I'm proving you right? You didn't tell me because you didn't want me to struggle with reconciling memory and reality…and that's exactly what I'm doing. Part of me is screaming that this is wrong, but it's the part that's never quite accepted that you're not the same woman who died to save me. You're a lot like her, but there are differences…or maybe I just didn't know the woman I looked up to so much as well as I thought I did."
Nana flinched just a little at the words, even though they weren't spoken to hurt or wound. Something about the look in Toshinori's eyes suggested pain much deeper than he was letting on, more struggles than he was admitting.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice softening just a little bit, "I didn't want to hurt you."
Toshinori tried to smile, but it was weak and shaky as he drew deep, shuddering breaths. "I know," he replied, "and I'm trying not to let it get to me…but it's hard to accept. I know I should, that it's none of my business who you love or what you do with your second life…but I can't. I'm trying, but I can't. I'm not going to hurt you more by condemning it or getting angry; you don't deserve that. Just…I need some time, please."
Nana smiled sadly, though she never let go of Izuku's hand. It may have only made it worse to flaunt their relationship so openly, but Izuku's presence was the only thing giving Nana the strength to continue this conversation. She assured Toshinori, "It's okay, Toshi. It's a confusing thing to understand. Take all the time you need."
With that assurance, Toshinori took a few more deep breaths, and finally relegated his countless warring emotions over the relationship between his successor and mentor to a far-off corner of his mind. Returning to the task at hand, he said, "Okay, Izuku stays. Now…"
Toshinori saw the looks of mingled relief and dread on Izuku and Nana's faces. He sighed deeply as he told them, "I wish I didn't have to do this. Nana, you should know that I never intentionally tried to keep this from you, it was just…so hard to tell you. You were happy, and I didn't want to take that from you. Forgive me."
"Don't worry about it," Nana said gently, "you're telling me now. That's enough."
"Will you still say that when you know the truth? Toshinori wondered. He didn't let himself dwell on the answer. Instead, he took a deep, unsteady breath, and began to speak.
"When I first met you, I was a quirkless orphan," Toshinori said, "when a hero who was strong and brave and never stopped smiling took notice of me for the first time, it was like…like something out of a fairytale. When I learned about One For All, when you took me into your life and gave me something that felt like home… well, I still believe that those days were the happiest of my life."
Nana and Izuku listened quietly, holding impatience at bay. Toshinori felt guilty for that, because he knew he was stalling. He just couldn't bear to do it, to kill Nana's smile, crush it under the weight of knowing her past.
But he had to do it.
He continued, "But…I digress. This is about you, Nana. And your family."
Suddenly, Nana jolted as if struck. Izuku did the same, both of them staring at him in shock.
Nana's voice was wary, but hopeful, as she asked, "I…I had a family?"
God, that hope nearly broke Toshinori. He knew what Nana was hoping, that she might have family to find today, a place to fit in even outside UA. For the first time since she'd been reborn, Nana was hopeful that there might be a life outside of UA to rebuild, to return to.
And it fell to Toshinori to tear that fragile hope to pieces, bit by awful bit.
Slowly, painfully, he nodded, dreading his next words. "You did," he told her, "I only met them a few times, but you had a husband…and a son."
Nana and Izuku's reaction was immediate. Their eyes went wide, jaws dropping. As if shocked, their hands fell apart as they considered what that might mean, all the ways in which this revelation affected their relationship and future and everything else.
Nana bolted upright and slammed her hands on the desk, visibly restraining another wave of sleep-deprived anger. "You didn't tell me that?" she asked incredulously. Something in her eyes and her voice suggested that she knew it was unfair even as she spoke the words.
Toshinori nodded weakly. "You asked me not to," he reminded her, even though the fact didn't wash away his guilt in the slightest, "and…now do you see why your relationship has made me conflicted?"
Nana snapped, "How the fuck was I supposed to know? What happened to him, anyway? I don't…even now that you've said it, I can't remember anything about my husband."
Toshinori understood now. Nana was expecting, or maybe desperately hoping for, a Eureka moment, a single second of understanding that would let her missing memories slot back into place like puzzle pieces. Toshinori didn't dare hope that that would happen.
Wondering what his next words would do for Nana's newfound relationship, Toshinori explained, "His name…his name was Tomura. I didn't know him well, but you loved each other very much. And…he died a year before you did. All For One killed him while hunting for you. It…something inside your heart broke that day, something that can't be put back together. I…I can't remember seeing your smile, your real smile, after you learned he was dead."
Nana's face shifted through dozens of emotions in a fraction of a second. Her legs wobbled under her, and she staggered back, slumping into her chair with a stunned expression. Next to her, Izuku started to reach out for her; once he processed the whole statement, though, he froze in shock…and dawning horror. He looked at Toshinori with an expression that begged to be incorrect, asking, "Tell me I heard that name wrong."
Izuku didn't have all the pieces, but…he would soon. And that part of the conversation was going to rip Toshinori's heart out, just like learning about that particular bit of cruelty by that bastard had. All he could do was shake his head sadly a tiny bit, and then Izuku was turning back to Nana.
Meanwhile, Nana muttered hollowly, "A widow by thirty… fuck. I knew there had to be a reason for the nightmares, but-"
"The nightmares?" Toshinori asked curiously. Nana jumped as though she'd gotten lost in her own thoughts and forgotten he was even there.
Before she could say anything, though, Izuku explained, "The last couple nights, she's been having really bad nightmares…that she doesn't remember when I wake her up. We think that they're more like…really bad memories that are bleeding through somehow. She's been crying that name you said, too, along with…another."
Slowly, horror and understanding dawned on Toshinori. Suspiciously, he asked, "What's the other name?"
"Kotaro," Nana said, her voice empty of emotion. She was still slumped helplessly in her chair, as though the revelation that her pain was real, an echo of unimaginable grief from another lifetime, had drained all the energy right out of her.
Toshinori had to fight to keep from plunging into despair when he heard the confirmation of his worst fears. If One For All really was behind all of this…then it was cruel. Why was this happening to the best person he'd ever known?
Nana must have seen something on Toshinori's face, because she pushed herself upright in her chair, staring directly into his eyes, searing him with the certainty and desperate energy in her eyes.
"You know that name, don't you?" she asked, in a voice that turned it into more of a statement.
Toshinori nodded. What else could he do, when he could no longer hide the truth?
Nana leaned in, her presence overwhelming, the look on her face like a cracking dam that was moments from failing. She whispered, "Who was it?"
Toshinori cursed every god he could think of. He couldn't do this. But he had to.
Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Toshinori replied, "Your son."
Nana's eyes widened a little and she trembled in fear, but she didn't break. Her voice was still soft, as though speaking too loudly would shatter her like glass.
"What happened to him?" she asked. Toshinori knew, then, that whatever happened next, he would regret this day for the rest of his life. Nothing he could say would heal these wounds. Nothing he could do could stop Nana's own heroic soul from tearing her apart.
It felt like the words were bubbling up and out of their own accord as Toshinori said, "After Tomura died, I…I think you understood that time was running out. All For One was getting closer, and you…you couldn't lose any more family to him. Or maybe you just didn't think you were strong enough to raise a child anymore. So you…you gave Kotaro up for adoption, forbade me and Sorahiko from contacting him-"
Whatever Toshinori was going to say next was lost as a sob ripped itself out of Nana's chest, a wordless cry of grief and loss and self-hatred so intense Izuku reeled from the sheer intensity of the emotions flooding off of Nana. She sank to her knees, clutching her head as bits and pieces of her past shot through her mind like points of light.
There was no Eureka moment, no sudden restoration of who she had been. She stayed broken, fragmented, clinging to scraps of memories like torn pieces of a photograph. They were tiny; an outstretched arm, a face without recognition, a deep laugh, a babbling smile, feelings of love and hope and happiness…
But most of all, grief, and the hollow, empty sensation of losing something vital to who you were, and most of all, the tears. Of loss, and anger, and self-hatred.
There were tears streaming down her cheeks in the present, too, filled with the same emotions.
"Why...why does it hurt still?" Nana choked out in between sobs, "Thirty years...another lifetime...and it still feels like the holes in my mind are ripping me apart. God…what have I done?"
Izuku, helpless in the face of such deep pain, refused to give up. He knelt in front of Nana, dragging her into a massive hug, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her tight. Nana barely responded to the touch, except to burrow deeper into his embrace and bury her face into his neck, sobbing freely as she finally began to understand her own pain.
Toshinori watched silently, not willing to interrupt such a moment. Although he doubted he was ready to admit it, a large part of him decided then and there that, no matter the strangeness and confusing start of their relationship, Nana and Izuku were good for each other. Maybe that was enough.
Eventually, though, Nana seemed to reach a new stage of her grief and rage and raw pain. Suddenly filled with desperate, manic energy, she frantically cried, "I have to find him! I have to…I have to fix this!"
God, Toshinori wished that these fragments of her heart could be saved. But no, he had to stomp out even the tiniest shards of hope. Unable to bring himself to say it cruelly or honestly, he instead told her gently, "You can't, Nana."
Nana rounded on him, her face filled with desperate fury, tears coursing down her cheeks. She snarled, "Why not? I'm not afraid of a little hard conversation or of keeping fucking One For All a secret! He's my son, Toshi! And I gave him up! He must…he must hate me!"
As Nana wavered on the edge of breaking into fresh tears, Toshinori hesitated. He said weakly, "Nana…"
"I know that look, Toshi," Nana interrupted with a warning tone in her voice, jabbing her finger at him, "I know you're trying to hide something, and maybe it will only bring me more pain…but I need to know, now. Why can't I find my son?"
Toshinori couldn't do this. He couldn't say it…and he couldn't draw it out any longer, either. There were no good options; each and every one ended in pain. "He's dead, Nana," he said bluntly, hoping fervently that, somehow, he could escape this awful fate.
Whatever Nana had been expecting, it wasn't that. She staggered, and would have fallen but for Izuku, who steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. She barely seemed to notice him. "T-Toshi?" Nana whispered, her voice crumbling, breaking like glass.
Toshinori's head was hanging low as sorrow flooded him, too. He continued, "He died years ago. I…we didn't know until recently."
"And now he's dead…and I'll never see him again," Nana said dully, her voice thick with tears, her face a mess, "Do you…do you know how he died?"
"I…" Toshinori began, before stopping himself. He couldn't. He couldn't tell her. She didn't deserve this, the awful knowledge of what had happened to her own flesh and blood, how the monster she'd given her life trying to stop had ruined her own legacy out of gleeful spite.
But Nana had always had a way with coaxing the truth out of him. Even with her grief overrunning every facade of strength she tried to erect, she put her hands on her hips and a no-nonsense look on her face, and snapped, "Toshi."
The whole room rang as Toshinori slammed his fist down on the desk in response. Nana and Izuku stared in shock and disbelief at the display of desperate anger from the kindest man they knew.
Slowly, Toshinori raised his head to look Nana in the eye, revealing that tears were now coursing down his cheeks, too. His voice was weak and desperate as he spoke. "Please, Nana, don't make me do this," he pleaded, "Don't make me tear your heart to pieces."
Nana's expression softened, but not enough. Her own voice rang with regret and agony as she replied softly, "You're too late, Toshi. I did that to myself thirty years ago. Please, I have to know."
Toshinori broke then, unable to fight back against the forces pulling him in a hundred different directions, not strong enough to find another way. In a voice wrung dry of all emotion, he told her, "He was killed by his son, Tenko, when his quirk activated for the first time, along with the rest of his family."
"God…" Nana whispered, her voice and body trembling with new layers of grief. It felt like she was shattering, the washed-clean walls of her mind aching under the weight of memories she no longer had. It hurt, and she didn't know why.
The words came out like water from a bursting dam, now, and Toshinori was powerless to stop them, or save anyone from their impact. He could only say, "And then…All For One found Tenko, wandering and alone, with people refusing to help him. He…he knew Tenko was your grandson, and he-"
Nana's eyes went wide. Suddenly, pieces flew together into a picture that shook her very soul. It made too much sense. It was exactly the kind of thing that bastard would do. It was going to be the thing that broke her. Next to her, Izuku put the pieces together too, and finally understood what he had ended that day in the ruins of a city that no longer existed.
"No. Please. No," Nana whispered as the weight of her past finally crushed her, knowing that her prayers wouldn't be answered. At last, she understood. At last, she couldn't be strong anymore.
Toshinori looked like he would rather rip his own heart out than continue speaking, but he had no choice. He finished, "He twisted the child, raised him as a living weapon, and gave him a new name…Tomura Shigaraki."
Ten minutes later, Izuku slowly, gently eased the door to the dorm building open. He looked distracted as he saw the room was quiet, although most of the class was somewhere in the room. Slowly, he eased the door open wider, and helped Nana come inside.
She looked like a wreck, moving absentmindedly, not saying a word. Izuku hadn't heard a thing from her, out loud or through the link, since she'd learned that Shigaraki was her grandson, and worse, named for her dead husband in one last act of monstrous evil by All For One. She'd just…shut down, completely. She let Izuku lead her back to the dorms, where he hoped that maybe some food and sleep could help her feel better.
He doubted it, but he needed some kind of hope, dammit. Izuku was struggling to process everything himself, honestly. He would be fine, though. Nana…he was scared for her.
But there was nothing he could do right now, except focus on what he could actually accomplish. Right now, that was getting Nana some food and getting her somewhere where she could process and grieve in peace and quiet.
Luckily, it was a little bit after the usual dinnertime for the class, so there were plenty of leftovers around. But before Izuku could even start rummaging around, he heard someone walk up to him from behind. Turning around, he saw Kacchan, holding some bowls of soup.
"Here," the blond boy said, "I made a couple extra, figured you'd be showing up eventually."
Right. It had been Kacchan's turn to make dinner today. Izuku accepted the bowls gratefully, bringing Nana along over to the island, where a line of tall stools turned the counter into a table. Settling in, Izuku managed to coax Nana into starting to eat. Like everything since they'd left All Might's office, she did it emotionlessly, as though she'd completely overloaded her ability to care. Izuku checked to make sure she was actually eating before starting to do so himself.
Before long, though, Izuku heard the scrape of the stool to his left being pulled out. When he turned to look, he saw Kacchan sitting there, his expression oddly…calm.
Hell, Kacchan had been really calm in general lately. It was a nice change of pace, but it felt weird.
For a moment, Izuku and his old "friend" sat quietly next to each other. On Izuku's other side, Nana continued eating robotically, still seemingly out of it.
Then, at last, Katsuki spoke. "Deku-" he began, only to cut himself off as though correcting a slip, "No. Izuku, we need to talk."
Izuku raised his eyebrow at the correction, but didn't comment. He asked, "Can it wait? Now really isn't a good time, Kacchan. Nana just had a really bad shock, and-"
Softly, so quietly that only Izuku and Nana could hear him, Katsuki interrupted, "I know she isn't All Might's daughter."
Izuku froze, his blood running cold. Beside him, Nana barely seemed to acknowledge that she'd heard, other than slowly putting her spoon down. She didn't turn her head or say a word; she just listened.
Fighting to keep his voice even, Izuku responded equally quietly, "Why would you say that, Kacchan?"
"I found an article in the UA archives," Katsuki explained in a muted voice, so unlike his usual bluster that Izuku wondered what had come over him, "it was from thirty years ago, and it was about the death of a hero called Maverick. And it had a picture of her."
Katsuki pointed at Nana, and Izuku knew that whatever the blonde boy had found, it was ironclad proof that the lies he, Nana, and All Might had crafted were just that, lies. This was bad.
In a low voice that hummed with more danger than he was really aware of, Izuku asked Katsuki, "What do you want, Kacchan?"
Izuku was expecting a snarl, or a snap, or a demand to fight somebody; that was what he was used to from Kacchan. Instead, the explosive boy spread his hands in a placating gesture, and promised, "Nothing, really. I just…I want to know what's going on, that's all. I don't want to cause any stupid issues because I didn't bother getting the whole picture before I freaked out."
"What makes you think we'd just tell you if there really was something going on?" Izuku pointed out. He knew that the way he'd worded it basically confirmed that there was something going on, but he figured that Katsuki basically already knew that, anyway.
Katsuki shrugged, which was a shock in and of itself. He responded, "Honestly, I don't know. God knows I don't fucking deserve to be in on the secret. It's not like I've earned it."
Izuku resisted the urge to snort his agreement. He may not have held a grudge for how Katsuki had treated him, but that certainly didn't mean that he and his old bully were friends. Rivals, certainly. But not someone he'd ever have confided something like this in, let alone the secret of One For All. Unfortunately, Katsuki was smart, and he'd worked out enough of that one to make bringing him in on the secret the safest option. And now he'd done it again.
But still, Izuku hesitated; maybe it was because he couldn't get Nana's input while she was still shut down and not responding to any of this, maybe it was because he wasn't quite sure how to describe what had happened with Nana, not when he was still reeling from everything he'd learned today.
Either way, it took him a second to gather his thoughts. He asked, "What would you do if you knew the truth?"
Still not exploding or getting angry, Katsuki admitted, "Honestly? Probably nothing. I…I trust you, Izuku. If there was something suspicious or…I don't know, related to the League and those freaky Nomu fuckers or something going on with how she came back from the dead, you'd know, and you'd already have dealt with it."
Izuku took another moment to absorb that. At last, surprised by both his own willingness to accept that Katsuki was actually being reasonable for once, as well as by his own frustration and suspicion, he asked, "Did you go looking for that article because Nana beat you in a fight?"
Katsuki looked surprised that Izuku had asked that. He shouldn't have been; Izuku had known Katsuki since they were less than four years old. He knew Katsuki better than Katsuki knew himself, in some ways.
Then, to Izuku's surprise, Katsuki balled up his fists and muttered, "I don't know."
The blonde boy looked up into Izuku's eyes, and Izuku was shocked by the depth in them, the consideration…and the fear. "I'd like to think I'm better than that," Katsuki continued, "but I've spent long enough now fighting against my own fucking thoughts to know better than to trust what I think of myself. That's what made me do all that shit I did to you as kids. It's why I needed to get fucking kidnapped before I started to realize how shitty I was being. I'm trying to learn from that."
Katsuki took a deep breath, and finished, "So, Izuku. I don't know what's going on with your girlfriend, but instead of being a dick about it, I'm trying to learn. So, if you don't mind…what is she?"
Izuku, touched by Katsuki's honesty, opened his mouth to reply. But before he could, a black blur suddenly slammed into the explosive boy. With a jolt, Izuku realized that it was Nana.
Katsuki yelled in surprise as he was grabbed and thrown brutally against the far wall. Before he could recover, Nana was on him, grabbing him by the shirt and hauling him up until he was trapped.
Katsuki stared into Nana's eyes; they were wild, bloodshot, and filled with a hundred different emotions, from rage to grief to sorrow. Behind her, Izuku scrambled to his feet, already reaching out with the link. What he found made him stagger back. It was as if all of Nana's emotions had been tightly compressed for so long that they had simply boiled over; she'd gone from barely able to respond to the outside world as she tried to process everything to just snapping.
Katsuki tried to break free, but Nana's grip was like iron. Her voice was thick, hoarse and broken as she snarled, "What am I? Well, fucker, here's the goddamn truth: I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I AM!"
Nana's sudden outburst shocked Katsuki into silence, even stopping his escape attempts.
As though the words were bursting free without her control, Nana continued in a voice somewhere between furious and teary, "Tell me, if you came back from the fucking dead after thirty years, without your goddamn memories, and with everyone who knew you back then making excuse after excuse not to tell you anything, what would you be? What if you started having fucking flashbacks you didn't understand that left you feeling like you were dying? What if you finally learned what you were missing when the man you loved like a fucking son finally stopped hiding the truth, and you end up wishing he hadn't? What if you learned that you were so fucking weak that you couldn't save your husband from getting murdered, and then you gave up your son because you were scared? What if you learned that the monster you died trying to beat exploited your own cowardice to torture the people you loved? What if you learned that you were the grandmother of the second-worst mass murderer in Japanese history? And worst of all, what if the one goddamned good thing you found in your second life found out about all of that? Found out that you were a fake? Do you think you'd know what the hell you are anymore?"
Every word out of Nana's mouth broke Izuku's heart, but none more than those last sentences. Did Nana think that anything he had learned today changed how much he loved her? Did she think anything could ever change that?
Izuku tried to pour all of this into the link, tried to communicate just how much he loved Nana, how much he cared, but he couldn't. The link was too jumbled, too filled by the thousand different emotions Nana had lost control of for Izuku to cut through.
Katsuki still didn't fight back, but he managed to gasp, "How…did you…come back?"
Nana smiled then, sharp like broken glass. Her laugh was bitter like Toshinori's had been as she yelled, "One For All did it, you fucking idiot! One For All, the fucking quirk I treated like it was actually good, that it wasn't going to hurt me like everything else did! I have no idea why the hell it decided my suffering wasn't over, but it doesn't fucking matter now, does it? Maybe it just wanted me to realize that my fuckups affected all of you, too! After all, it's my fault Shigaraki exists!"
There were gasps at that, and Nana suddenly faltered; it was as if she'd totally forgotten where they were, that there were other people there. Loosening her grip on Bakugo's shirt, she turned to see their classmates watching. People looked stunned, or confused, or worried; several seemed about ready to charge in to break her and Katsuki apart.
Slowly, Nana realized what she'd done. She'd yelled basically everything out loud, in front of the entire class. Fuck, she'd used One For All by name!
There was no way it could stay a secret, not now. She'd fucked that up, too.
Behind her, Nana heard Izuku step forward. In that gentle, kind voice he'd been using since her world began to fall apart, he began, "Nana, it's okay, I've got you-"
She ran. Just dropped Bakugo and bolted for the door. Purple lightning hummed around her, making her move too fast to be stopped. Within two second, she was out the door and into the woods again.
There was only one place she could think of to run to.
Katsuki slowly hauled himself up off the ground; Shimura hadn't actually hit him, thank God. He was fine.
But everything else was a fucking mess, wasn't it? And it was his fault. If he hadn't picked literally the worst possible place for a conversation like that, the entire goddamn class wouldn't have been the audience for a play-by-play of not only Shimura's apparent resurrection, but One For All, too.
Fuck.
Katsuki looked up to see the whole room about to descend into panic. Izuku looked like he was about to freak out now that Shimura had bolted, most of his classmates were convinced that something was going really wrong, and Uraraka was watching him from the corner, her eyes wide and her fists clenched.
She clearly blamed him for this. Well, she wasn't the only one.
As Katsuki surveyed the scene, he came to a realization: nobody else was going to step up. Izuku was too wrecked by whatever was going on with his girlfriend, and all the other usual leaders were among the stunned and confused crowd of his classmates. The only way to keep this from going wrong would be for…him to take charge.
Goddamnit. But if he didn't, things would get worse. And maybe…maybe his first attempt at not being a dick could be salvaged somehow if he kept this from spiraling out of control.
Maybe he could redeem himself from being a massive fucking idiot.
That settled it for Katsuki; whatever else happened, he needed to prove, to himself and to the people he'd hurt, that he could be better. Maybe that could start here. It was the next step, and that was all he needed to change. But first…
Katsuki took a deep breath and turned to his rival. "Izuku," he snapped, forcing the old nickname to stay out of his mouth, "hello? Earth to Izuku?"
After a second, Izuku managed to get his head on straight again. "Yeah?" he asked, clearly still wrecked by Shimura's…whatever the hell it was that had just happened.
Katsuki took a few steps closer to the taller man, and told him, "You go find your girlfriend."
Izuku blinked, clearly shocked. He protested, "But what about these guys? They just-"
"I'll handle it," Katsuki promised, his voice urgent, "but Shimura needs you. Don't worry about these fuckers, I'll keep 'em in line. You go do whatever you need to do."
Izuku took another breath to protest, then thought better of it. He nodded once, conveying more gratitude than he could ever put into words, and sprinted for the door. He disappeared outside in a blur of green lightning.
Katsuki moved on to the next goal: get the rapidly growing storm of conversation and freaking out to stop. Before Katsuki could say a word, though, Uraraka disappeared out the door, too.
He decided to ignore it; he trusted the anti-gravity girl to take care of herself. Whatever she was doing, it probably needed doing.
Luckily, Uraraka closed the door after her, which bought Katsuki enough time to detonate a flashbang in his palms and yell "Shut the fuck up!" to get everyone's attention.
Slowly, the conversation died down, as everyone turned to him. He could see suspicion and confusion and shock on their faces.
Katsuki snarled, "All of you, quit it right now. What just happened was a fuckin' mess, and now we need to fix it. First, all of you are gonna stay here, you understand? We're gonna explain, I promise, but we can't do that if you're being stupid."
Immediately, Yaoyorozu protested, "But what about Shimura? What on Earth did she mean when she was talking about-"
"I said," Katsuki growled, setting off another explosion in his palm, "We're gonna explain it. But first, you all need to calm the fuck down and wait."
Most of the class, suitably chastened, began to sit back down to do just that. But Yaoyorozu didn't; she stayed put, and asked, "What exactly just happened?"
Katsuki swallowed heavily; his throat felt dry.
"What happened," he replied softly, "is that I fucked up."
Izuku didn't know where Nana had gone…but he had a pretty good guess. He poured on the speed, determined to reach her as quickly as he possibly could. One For All sparked and hummed around him, as though guiding the way.
Izuku's mind whirled with fears and worries as he raced across UA's campus, but he ignored it all. His focus was entirely on finding his girlfriend.
He came across her exactly where he expected to: on the field where he'd flown for the first time.
Nana was standing in the middle of the field, her back turned to him; she was staring up into the sky. The sun was just setting, and long, smoky fingers of pink and orange and purple spread through the deep blue, marbled and broken by the dark clouds. The sun was behind the trees, and a chill was spreading rapidly across the earth below; Izuku fought off a shiver as a breeze blew through his clothes.
The sight of the sunset made Izuku remember their date, watching the world turn gold from the top of the world. God, had that really only been a week ago?
Nana barely reacted as Izuku came up behind her; not until he was barely two feet away did she speak.
"I fucked up," she said softly, "every time something good happens, I find a way to fuck it up."
Izuku didn't know how to respond to that. He replied, "It's okay, Nana."
She halfway turned to him, and Izuku saw the fresh tears coursing down her face. She'd been crying again.
"No," she responded hollowly, "it's not okay. I…I meant what I said, Izuku. I don't know what I am anymore."
"I do," Izuku insisted as he stepped closer, "you're Nana Shimura. The girl I love."
Nana didn't smile, or laugh, or do anything she would have done when Izuku told her he loved her. Instead, she turned around again.
"Nana Shimura is dead. She died thirty years ago," she whispered into the wind, just loud enough for Izuku to hear.
He stepped closer again, until he was right up against her back. His arms slipped around her waist, an anchor holding her to the ground.
"And then she came back," he reminded her, "You came back. There has to be a reason for that."
"Is there?" she wondered. Izuku remembered what she'd said to Katsuki, and realized just how lost she was at that moment. She wasn't sure she believed in One For All anymore; he checked the link, and found it to be true. Nana's spirit was like an abandoned battlefield, scarred and marked, utterly desolate. She was terrified.
"I think there is one, at any rate. I think it's a second chance, like you said," he told her, his voice full of confidence. It wasn't fake.
"What?" Nana demanded with a hollow, bitter laugh, "why did it bring me back to this? I can't fix any of the things I did wrong. My husband is dead. Kotaro is dead. The only people I have left are Toshinori and Sorahiko. Tenko…Shigaraki…I saw him in your memories. He's beyond saving."
"You forgot about me," he said gently, still holding her tight, "you'll always have me."
That seemed to finally get Nana to respond again. She turned, fully this time, letting Izuku pull her close with his arms tight around her. She sighed, and let herself slump into his arms.
"I won't let you go. Ever," he told her.
Nana looked up at him, and he saw a smile on her face, a real smile. It was sad, and there were tears in her eyes, but it was real.
"I know you won't," she replied.
Then, Nana stood again in his arms, reaching up to pull his face down. She gave him a sweet, gentle kiss, just long enough to be loving, too short to last.
"One for the road," she said quietly, as if to herself.
Izuku frowned. He asked, "Nana? What are you-"
He was cut off as Nana drove a sparking fist into his solar plexus. Izuku's eyes went wide as he flew backwards, rolling a dozen feet across the ground.
Nana stood where she had a moment ago, crying freely. She looked down at where Izuku was struggling to his feet, winded, and sobbed, "I'm sorry, Izuku. But I can't… I can't stay here. Not now. I need to think…I need to fly. There's just too much going on in my head right now. I know I'm being a coward…but I guess that's nothing new for me."
Izuku coughed as he dragged himself upright. "Nana," he gasped, taking two staggering steps towards her.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, "it…it won't be forever, I promise."
Then, she turned and leaped into the sky.
Izuku wasn't going to let her just go, though. At the last second, he leaped, too, trying desperately to keep her here, with him.
His outstretched hand passed inches below her shoe. He missed.
Nana gave him one last heartbroken look as he landed on the ground again. He still hadn't learned to fly without her; he'd still needed her help to see what lay above the ground.
He couldn't follow her, and they both knew it. For the first time, he'd failed to catch her.
Nana turned her head skyward, and flew away. Izuku watched, barely comprehending the sight, until she had turned into a tiny black dot on the horizon. When the dot disappeared, he hung his head and wept.
Nana was gone.
A/N: Anyone who tries to "uhh, ackshually" me about Nana saying "a widow at thirty" shall fall afoul of my Toenail Extractor 9000. I don't really care that much if I get the age off by a couple years. It's the spirit of the words that matters.