Nana's heart felt like it had burst into shattered glass as she flew, but she didn't dare stop to feel the pain. She didn't dare look back, at UA slipping over the horizon. If she did, she knew she would still see Izuku there, staring at her retreating back even though he should have faded from view by now.

God, she didn't want to leave. But she couldn't stay, couldn't look into the faces of the people who knew her secrets, now. They knew she was weak, knew what she'd done. Nana could feel herself being ripped in two, the part that howled and begged for her to go back, and the part that knew it was better off this way.

She wondered if this was how it had felt when she'd given up her son. Somehow, she knew it was, and she hated herself for it.

"I'm sorry, Izuku," she thought, knowing he couldn't hear, because the link, too, was in tatters, "I'm sorry I'm leaving like this. I always leave…always run away."

Tears flowed freely down Nana's face as she flew, the wind whipping at her and leeching the heat from her body. She didn't know where she was going; all she could think to do was get away. She flew away from the setting sun, watching the world slip into darkness and shadow as she went faster and faster, never quite fast enough to outrun her own guilt.

"Where am I going?" Nana wondered, even though she knew the answer was nowhere. There was no place in the world where she belonged anymore; they'd all disappeared thirty years ago…except for the one she'd just run away from, the one she could never go back to again now.

Izuku must hate her now. She'd sunk into his heart, wound every last bit of their lives together, promised him that they'd always be that way, told him she'd show him the most beautiful things she knew…and then left. At the first hint of difficulty, she'd run instead of fighting to stay with him.

She wasn't a hero, she wasn't even a good person. She was a fake.

Nana bit back a sob as she climbed higher. Her mind was a jumble of fragments and memories and heartbreak; she couldn't even tell the difference between them anymore. She was moving on autopilot, her eyes blank and filled with tears. Through all the noise and grief and emotion of her thoughts, there was only one thing that kept repeating itself.

My fault.

Toshinori's injury? My fault. If I'd been stronger, been braver, not just given up and walked to my death like a lamb to the slaughter, I could have protected him, helped him defeat All For One. Instead, I left him alone.

Her son's death? My fault. I gave him up. I was too scared to hold on to him, too scared of being hurt again…so I took the easy way out by hurting him instead. And I paid for it. Kotaro…I don't even remember what you looked like, but I loved you. And I gave you up.

Shigaraki? My fault. All my fault. If I'd been there for Kotaro, maybe things would have been different. Maybe I would have been there for him, too. Maybe I could have protected him from All For One, stopped him from using my grandchild as his pawn. But now…how many thousands of people are dead because of my cowardice?

Nana would never know the answer to that, and that hurt most of all. She'd only ever tried to help people, to do good in the world…and look at what that had gotten her. A broken heart, a lifetime of pain and hurt she could only barely remember, and a legacy of blood and death.

She was lost, in more ways than one.

Nana lost track of time; she might have flown for thirty seconds, or countless hours. The sky seemed to change around her, growing darker…and yet she didn't notice it change at all. She dipped in and out of the clouds, their soft, cool edges brushing against her face like gentle hands wiping away her tears. She looked down, and saw an endless sea of lights, flickering and dancing like artificial auroras. She couldn't watch them; it reminded her of the promises she'd failed to keep.

What was she going to do? She couldn't put herself back together; no amount of flying could ever heal the damage she'd done to herself in her fear and weakness. It was too late for that.

Nana tilted herself up again, shooting through the dark clouds like a bullet as she soared up, up up into the sky. At last, she came to a stop, thousands and thousands of feet in the air. She looked down, and saw mountains dotting the landscape like the outstretched hands of giants, clawing their way upwards.

She still didn't know where she was going, what she was doing, or how she could ever heal; she didn't think she could, really.

But still, something inside her was fighting, demanding to be acknowledged, and Nana didn't have the strength to fight it off anymore. She didn't have any strength left at all.

So she turned her eyes upwards again, not sure what she was looking for. And she whispered, "Please. If you're there, tell me why you did this. Show me something worth coming back for. Why did you send me back? Please, I have to know. Tell me there's a reason for this."
For an eternity, or maybe for just a few heartbeats, there was no reply. Nana hadn't really been expecting there to be one, but it had been her last hope, and it made something inside her start to crumble.

"I knew it," she said quietly, a fresh wave of tears spilling out, "you don't care, do you?"

But then, there was something new. Nana felt a prickle on her skin, a feeling she barely recognized. Once she did, she realized it felt like a hand gently trailing along her forearm, a soft, reassuring touch. She raised her arm, studying it as feelings that didn't come from her whispered and surrounded her.

Again, the touch came, steady and sure, and this time it left lightning in its wake. Purple thunderbolts sparked and flowed from Nana's arm, shimmering under her skin as they worked their way up her body and towards her heart. Nana's eyes were wide as it spread; she hadn't activated One For All. Someone else was doing this.

At last, a new feeling settled into her gut, like a ball of light finding a home. It tugged at her, as though a string was hooked somewhere behind her navel, pulling her forwards. Nana turned, and the string didn't; she realized it was trying to lead her somewhere. There was something she needed to see.

Understanding that her prayers had incredibly, miraculously been answered, Nana repeated softly, "Please. I can't take this anymore."

Then, Nana dove again, following the string that led her downwards and forwards, towards what she could only hope was the answer she needed.

Nana would never know how long she flew for.

Towns and cities passed like ghosts beneath her, sliding over the horizon, glowing webs of lights that winked out like dying stars. Nana barely saw them; her mind was still too lost, her heart too focused on the last hope she had.

She followed the guide, the tugging in her gut leading her somewhere she didn't recognize, a city that was a web of glowing lights just like all the others. It was pitch-black by the time she understood it wanted her to land here.

Slowly, carefully, Nana sank through the air, adjusting her position as the invisible string drew her closer and closer to her goal. The clouds were low and heavy here; they sank with her, blanketing the streets in fog so thick she never saw another soul.

Still, she followed blindly, trusting One For All. She knew it wasn't the trust she'd had before, not when that trust had been shattered so completely by the pain of finding out her past. No, this was the trust of desperation. Nana followed the light crackling inside her because there was no other option. If this failed, she didn't know what would happen to her.

At last, Nana's feet touched down on the ground, like a spirit deigning to walk with mortals. She didn't feel like that, though; she felt as if her heart wanted to drag her further down, paralyze her with grief until she disappeared into the depths of the earth.

Lightning crackled over her skin again, pooling in her finger, pointing her forwards. Looking around, Nana realized that she'd set down on a grassy field; she couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction, thanks to the thick gray fog that blanketed everything. She took a breath, and it was cool and wet.

"Why did you want me to come here?" she wondered out loud.

There was no verbal reply, but the power coursing inside her spiked suddenly, as though telling her to hurry up and find out.

Slowly but surely, Nana began to follow the direction it set for her. She'd made it a few yards before something loomed up out of the fog in front of her, and her heart went cold.

It was a gravestone, a granite monolith with faded letters she couldn't quite make out. Nana looked around, and saw the dark, blurred shapes in the fog that could only be other markers.

She was standing in a graveyard.

Nana's breath caught in her throat as she tried to stop, only for the tugging inside her to grow more insistent, until it was almost painful.

"No," some tiny voice inside her cried, as if understanding what was coming, "no, please, don't do this to me."

But her feet didn't obey; they kept moving, kept drawing Nana through the deserted graveyard as if to her own destruction.

Nana's dread mounted with every step; nothing good could come from being led to a graveyard. But still, she followed, begging One For All to be kind, to give her hope instead of crushing the last drops of it that still lived in her chest.

At last, as Nana passed through more rows of silent, stony graves, the tugging inside her stopped, vanishing in an instant. Nana looked around, confused. What did One For All want to show her?

She opened her mouth, and asked the air, "Why did you bring me here?"

Even as the words left her mouth, though, Nana's eyes went wide as they landed on the headstone in front of her. As soon as she saw the words, a pulse of terrible, heartbreaking understanding shot through her. And then she knew.

She slowly sank to her knees as her legs suddenly lost their strength; a horrible, sick feeling pooled in her gut.

In a voice rich with layers of grief and defeat and shattered hope, Nana whispered, "Oh."

The headstone was plain, unassuming. It was many years old, judging by the weathering that would one day render it unreadable, as mysterious as death itself. But it was not that old, and so Nana could read the name. She knew immediately that she could never forget it.

It read, "Tomura Shimura, 2134-2164. Beloved husband and father, taken too soon."

Nana started to tremble, feeling like her heart was breaking all over again. Her head hurt, like something that was gone was reminding her of its absence. It was the wrong kind of pain.

She was staring at her husband's grave. She should have felt…grief, or horror, or anger at the man who had killed him, or….or something! Why didn't she? Why couldn't she remember his face?

In a voice as fragile as glass, Nana whispered, "Wh-why can't I remember you? I…I remember the pain of losing you, and the hole you left in my heart…but I can't remember you. What does that make me? Why am I not crying? I loved you…but I can't remember that. All I have to go off of are the words of the people who knew me. Why can't I remember loving you?"

The graveyard was silent, the headstone of Nana's long-dead husband standing in wordless testimony. Nana imagined it was accusing, demanding to know how she could have forgotten; she was desperate for someone to hate her for the pain she'd caused, for the things she'd lost. She'd failed, in so many ways, in so many things. She couldn't even keep the memory of the people she'd loved alive.

"I'm sorry," Nana said, on the verge of sobbing, "for everything. I lost you…I gave up our son…there's nothing left of you. I don't even have memories to mourn."

Something cracked inside Nana's chest, and she hunched over even more, tears dripping from her cheeks. She continued in an unsteady voice, "I don't know why I came back. I wish you had, too. It isn't fair that I get to come back, when I've failed so badly, when you never did. But…well, I can't even say that, can I, because I don't fucking know! I'll never know what you would have said about all of this, how you would have felt about it! And that…that hurts most of all."

Nana was laughing by the end of it, a bitter, hollow sound that broke her even more. All of it was unfair. Every last bit of it. Nana was furious then, but she had nothing to direct it at.

And then, as she raised her head again, her eyes flicked to the side, and her world shattered even more.

Nana forgot how to breathe as her eyes suddenly landed on the headstone next to her husband's, equally plain and simple, sitting next to Tomura for all of time.

It was her own.

With unseeing eyes, Nana took in the words etched forever into the granite, scarcely able to comprehend what they said: "Nana Shimura, 2134-2165. The only true death is being forgotten."

When Nana's aching mind finally put the pieces together, she thought she was going to be sick. She scrambled backwards, away from the terrible, serene sight in front of her, until her back slammed into the trunk of a colossal oak tree that towered over the graveyard. She didn't even register the impact; her eyes were fixed firmly on the sight of her own name on a grave.

The thought, the sudden awful understanding that her own corpse was down there was nearly too much for her. Nana felt split somehow, a horrific feeling of deja vu overwhelming her senses as she stared at the ground where she had been buried thirty years before. She was sitting in front of her own bones, but she was down there and up here, at the same time. It was the same feeling that Nana had gotten the day Inko Midoriya had given her the hairband that Nana had once given to her, that same sense of touching a past she had lived and died and forgotten, only multiplied a thousand times.

And the words, that terrible sentence that someone who had loved her had chosen to put on her grave. It was too accurate, too fitting for the circumstances. Nana sat in front of her own grave, and forgot herself. She forgot her own family.

By the logic of her own gravestone, Tomura and Kotaro were dead. Truly dead. Nana had always hoped that somehow, there would be a magic cure for her amnesia, a simple fix that would give her back everything she had lost. But now, she was starting to doubt whether or not that would ever happen. Maybe these people she had loved once were forever lost to her.

That thought filled Nana with rage again, hopeless and helpless fury that only further scoured the exhausted and weakened fabric of her spirit.

Sitting limply against the tree, Nana turned her head upwards again, and spat, "This is what you wanted to show me? Who the fuck do you think you are? Is all of this shit a fucking joke to you? Did you bring me back just to cause me more pain? Did I not suffer enough for you? I don't know how I ever thought you were good. I don't know how I ever believed."

Nana's eyes fell downwards again, and she cried at last. It exploded out of her, sobs and gasps and tears flowing freely. She let everything out, the hysterical laughs and bitter swears and hollow tears.

She had lost everything, and now she let herself weep, because she would never get it back.

Ochako flitted through the woods at top speed, racing after her best friend, desperately hoping she wasn't too late.

Her mind was still reeling from what she had seen and heard. Shimura's words echoed in her head, twisting her thoughts into knots that made no sense.

Shigaraki's grandmother? Back from the dead? What was One For All?

With effort, Ochako forced the confusion and the need for answers from her mind. It wasn't important right now, not compared to what was happening. Her friend was hurting, and needed her help. Ochako was a hero; how could she ever not give it?

Izuku moved way too fast for her; he was gone from sight in seconds, but Ochako had seen where he was headed. She sprinted after him, determination and worry lending her legs extra speed.

She would be damned if she didn't give everything she had to help her friends. Ochako wouldn't let her confusion or suspicion or fear of what Shimura really was stop her.

She put her head down, and went beyond, pouring all she had into keeping up with Izuku.

Ochako reached the clearing where she'd interrupted that "spar" between Shimura and Izuku all those weeks ago a few minutes later. Instantly, she knew she was too late. Shimura was nowhere to be seen, and her best friend, the strongest man she'd ever known, a man who could wear a smile while walking through hell itself, was sobbing quietly on his knees.

Ochako walked up behind him quietly; Izuku didn't even notice, he was too lost in his own grief. It broke Ochako's heart to see him like this, but she kept walking, refusing to leave a friend alone when he needed help.

When she reached him, Ochako gently laid a hand on his shoulder, making Izuku tense up in surprise. He relaxed a little when he saw her face, even trying to fake a weak smile, but the red around his eyes told the truth.

"Hey, Deku," Ochako said softly, "what's wrong?"

Izuku visibly struggled with his words for a second, before finally admitting, "Nana…she left."

Ochako's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"She…she flew away," Izuku whispered, pain filling every syllable, "she said she needed to get away from everything that's happening. I think…I think she's afraid that everything is collapsing around her. She's afraid she'll be left alone."

"Will she be?" Ochako asked, sinking down to take a seat next to her friend.

Izuku looked at her with such fervent belief that Ochako knew the answer before he ever spoke a word. Even so, he said with absolute certainty, "Never. She'll never be alone, as long as I'm here."

Ochako smiled at him then, a smile that contained no sadness or envy, but only admiration. "You really do love her, don't you?" she mused, her voice soft and kind, soothing the wounds in Izuku's heart.

He nodded furiously. "I do," he agreed, "Nana…she's one of a kind. I didn't know it was possible to love someone as much as I love her. It…it scares me sometimes."

Ochako's smile never changed. She asked, "Why? Are you afraid of what would happen if you lost her?"

Izuku turned to look at her, and the expression on his face was a mix of a dozen feelings; hope, fear, love, and many more. He replied, "Sort of? God knows I'm terrified right now…but I'm scared for Nana, about what she's going through. I'm not the kind of person to treat love as a liability or a risk. Sure, maybe the fact that the people you love are going to die some day means it will end in hurt. But love is not a risk, and looking it at like that…I hope I'm never that cynical about the value of love."

Ochako listened to Izuku's words with surprise and awe; she'd never thought of Izuku as the type to think of things this deep, but she admired him for it, for his steadfast belief that even in its darkest moments, love was worth it. She let herself hope that maybe someday, she'd find someone who made her think that way.

Then, memories came crashing back, and Ochako had to know something. She asked, "The things Shimura said earlier…are they true?"

Izuku hesitated for a long moment, looking at Ochako with a cautious and guarded look in his eyes, before his shoulders finally slumped. "Yeah, they are," he admitted, "she isn't…well, she's a lot of things, but not All Might's daughter. They are family, though."

Ochako turned her head in curiosity at that, and asked pointedly, "Than what is she?"

Izuku hesitated again before replying, "It's…a long story. There's a lot of secrets involved, and some aren't mine to tell. I wish Nana was here to explain, but…"

Izuku's voice trailed off as he choked up, and tears welled up, streaming down his cheeks. It was then that Ochako realized just how badly Izuku was hurting, and how he was fighting to hold it together. She put her hand on his shoulder again, careful to leave her pinky finger off, and told him gently, "Deku, stop pretending to be strong for me. It's okay to admit you're hurting. The love of your life just ran off."

Izuku took a deep, rattling breath, and let the false smile drop away completely. He was crying, his whole body shuddering with grief and pain. Ochako just smiled gently and patted his back, more than happy to be a shoulder to cry on.

After a few moments, Izuku managed to get ahold of himself again. In a voice thick with grief, he admitted, "I…I don't know what to do. I thought Nana was always going to be there, and now that she's disappeared it's like there's a hole ripped in my head…in my heart. I don't know how to fix it."

Ochako could only think of one thing to say.

"You find her," she told him, "and you help her."

Izuku blinked in confusion, turning to look at her once again. "How?" he asked.

"You go after her," Ochako said, not quite sure where her certainty was coming from but welcoming it all the same, "she's in a bad place right now; we could all tell that from what happened in the common room. And Shimura…she may be strong, but she's weaker than you think, too. And right now, she needs someone to show her how to be strong again."

Izuku saw Ochako staring meaningfully at him, and protested, "It can't be me! She's the one who's always shown me how to be strong!"

Ochako's glare reminded Izuku of his mother's, and it froze him in place mid-protest the same way. "Deku," Ochako said firmly, "you have always been the strongest person I know. That includes all the time before we ever met Shimura. You have the strength to help her, I know you do. You always have."

"But," Izuku began, only for another glare from Ochako to cut him off instantly.

"Listen, Deku," she told him, "I may not know what Shimura really is…or even where she comes from, but I still know her. That girl loves you more than life itself. Right now, she's scared and hurting and probably hates herself for running away from you. She needs someone in her corner, Deku, someone who really, truly loves her and will do anything to help her. And I know for a fact that you fit that description perfectly."

Izuku still looked uncertain, so Ochako said, "Deku. You would walk through hell itself for that girl. We all know it."

Izuku nodded slowly, swallowing heavily. He took deep breaths, sighing, "I don't know how to reach out to her now, though. She's learned some really awful things about…well, about her past."

Ochako only grew more confused about what exactly Shimura was, but she brushed it aside to ask, "Does any of it change what you think of her? Does it change who she is to you?"
The certainty in Izuku's voice returned, growing and solidifying as he hissed, "Absolutely not. I still love her. I know who she is, and I love her."

Ochako nodded in satisfaction. She demanded, "Then why are you waiting here? Someone needs your help, Deku."

Using his hero name seemed to finally jolt Izuku out of his hesitation and fear. He took several deep breaths, and stood up, strength filling his frame and his face once again.

He opened his eyes wide, and muttered, "You're right, Uraraka. I can't just sit around here. Nana needs me."

Ochako grinned as she stood, too. Looking up at her best friend, she said, "I believe in you, Deku. Bring that girl back."

Then, as Ochako turned, she paused for a moment, wincing. She turned around again, a sheepish look on her face. "Er, Deku," she said awkwardly, "sorry for interrupting the moment, but uh, I just remembered that Shimura flew away. I don't know how you're gonna catch up with her."

Now, it was Izuku's turn to smile confidently. That smile swept Ochako away, made her feel as though she were staring at the hero Izuku could become, not the sweet man she knew. It was strong and confident and awe-inspiring…and it was unmistakably Nana Shimura's cocky grin.

"Oh, I have an idea about that," he told her, and Ochako believed him.

She smiled back, and said, "Well, I trust you. Just…you owe me a full explanation of this when you get back, alright?"

Izuku nodded. "You'll get one," he promised, "we'll tell you everything."

Ochako made a satisfied noise, and watched as Izuku…turned to face the empty field?

Softly, Ochako said, "Hey, Izuku?"

The boy Ochako had once loved-the man who was her best friend in the world-turned back to smile at her, asking, "Yeah?"

Ochako took a deep breath, and with a heart lighter than she would have ever thought possible, told him, "Go get your girl, Deku, You're perfect for each other."

Izuku's grin was blinding and inspiring and beautiful beyond words. He turned to face forwards again, face turned up to the sky, and replied, "I know. I'll never let her go again."

Once, Izuku thought that he could never fly on his own, that his fears weighed him down like anchors, that he would always need to be lifted by a woman who seemed immune to the very concept of terror, a woman who had sworn to always be by his side.

But now that woman's invincible facade lay in pieces, and she needed his help. Izuku didn't have her here, didn't have her smile and her voice to guide him into the sky, but he didn't need it anymore. He'd never needed it.

Nana's smile was gone, and Izuku's knowledge that he had to fix it, had to be the man she thought he was, pulled him towards her with a beating heart and clear eyes. That bond between them, that love, was greater than fear; it lifted his heart above any nightmare's reach, it laid out his path before him, up and into that endless sky.

Izuku ran at full speed across the field, his feet skimming through the waving grass like ships on a bottomless sea. As he ran, he remembered words, spoken as if in a dream in another time, a happier time.

"Just...let go. Anything that weighs you down, anything that drags at you, let it go."

So he did; all the fear drained away, the hurt and the panic and the dread, all gone. Now there was only love left.

Izuku called on One For All, too, hoping that the familiar flow of energy might help him in his impossible task. The crackling lightning rushed through his veins, crept over his skin, filled the very air around him with the hiss of static and the smell of ozone. Izuku felt something else, with it; it felt like a whisper, a promise, a tug in his gut pulling him up into the sky.

"You can save her," it told him, "You will save her."

Soon, Izuku had reached the end of the field; it was now or never. He would only get one shot at this, at bringing Nana back to him.

And yet, he wasn't afraid-he had faith, just like Nana. Faith in what, he didn't know; maybe it was in One For All, maybe it was in the friend who watched him take the desperate leap, maybe it was in himself. In the end, it didn't really matter.

Izuku took a deep breath, centered himself, envisioned himself by Nana's side, lifting off the ground and into her world, flexed his knees, released-

And then, as Ochako watched in slack-jawed shock, Izuku flew.