NOTE: This story isn't intended for sensitive readers. Readers on the lookout for trigger warnings are advised to give Singlehandedly a pass.
The most immediate concern on Izuku's mind was that he wouldn't make it to work that night. I'll probably lose my job at the convenience store. I don't think I'll make it at all. He was supposed to be restocking shelves and cleaning.
Then, somewhere down the list of his priorities, Izuku realized that this was going to kill him. There was so much blood that not even the sand below him was able to soak it up anymore and it pooled around him. The pain was somehow bearable. It didn't compare to the agony of the energy that had been stuck inside of him before.
He was dizzy now, and Izuku understood he had a short window to stop the bleeding. Looking down at himself, half of his shirt had been blown off. Sluggishly, Izuku tugged it off and used his remaining hand to press the cloth up against his wound. Now his body felt distant like this was happening to someone else and he was just an observer. Unlike before when his senses felt muted they were just faded now.
It won't be enough. Izuku could feel the blood seeping through the already blood-soaked cloth and through his fingers. Strength left his body even faster. If he died, no one would find his body until they decided to clean up the beach. Which might never happen, he'll likely be buried for years, maybe decades under the ever-growing mountain. Izuku of all people would know, he's been staying here…How long has it been? I came here after two years, so around three years ago. Dagobah beach was the best hiding place available to him, and he'd been through plenty. Many people thought about the dump, but never for long. It was an unpleasant place to think about. That made it safe.
His vision was blurring everything together now. The warm lights from his home and the dark they dispelled swirled together with the few stars visible in the murky night sky. No one would be there save him…no one ever was. He could rest now, that was what he realized. Eyes filled to the brim with tears, Izuku was so tired. How did he not realize this until now?
But somewhere underneath the pain and nausea and what it felt like to die, Izuku could feel the buzzing, it wasn't painful anymore. So, no tears fell. Instead, it came as a warm comfort rushing through him the more he focused on it. The ocean of energy wasn't stuck anymore, he could make it leave. The sensation was morbidly similar to the feeling of blood spilling out of his body. Only, the energy wasn't at risk of running out. Izuku's hand fell away from putting pressure on the gaping wound. He looked at his hand, it glowed, not the awful electric green lighting that had sparked around him before. This light covered the crimson red that coated his hand. This was a soft orange and yellow light. Like the sunsets at Dagobah beach, like the lights strung up around the bus he called home. When he moved it around it left a faint trail of light where it had been.
As everything else was fading away, the more Izuku focused on it, fractals of light materialized at his fingers, spreading across his hand, meeting, and joining the fractals that spread from his other fingertips. The buzzing was gone and was replaced with a pleasant hum. Filling an emptiness inside him that he didn't know had been there before. And as he stared at his hand, tears leaked out of his eyes, escaping his notice. It was beautiful. A comforting light Izuku had never seen before and it ensnared his mind.
When he tried to do this with his other hand Izuku remembered. It was gone, blown away by this power. When he moved his light-coated hand to touch his right shoulder he was met with empty air and he realized that was gone too.
When the light that coated his hand connected with his upper right side and he was shocked back into reality. His vision unblurred, he could feel the damp, gritty sand shifting underneath his knees from where he knelt on the sand. When Izuku moved his hand away, the coating of light remained on the wound on his right side. The explosion of pain was instant.
This was unlike anything from before. His right arm was filling with energy gnawing at his nerves, exploding, shredding itself into so many pieces, and then repeating that process again and again. What clawed at his mind was that his right arm wasn't there. It was gone, there weren't any nerves, no skin, no bones, no muscle, but this pain remained.
He fell over into the sand and his body spasmed as his mind went haywire as it's nonexistent—it was gone, it blew up, it was gone—right arm blew itself to shreds again and again. AND IT DIDN'T MAKE ANY SENSE BECAUSE IT WAS GONE BECAUSE IT HAD E̵X̷P̷L̶O̵D̶E̵D.
The edges of his vision were muting into a sinking black and Izuku welcomed it, the edges of unconsciousness were so close. But he never passed out—relief remained out of reach. Unconsciousness was a reprieve from the agony and this power denied that. His mind at a loss of what to do because WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN AN ENTIRE LIMB E̵X̷P̷L̶O̵D̶E̵S̵ á̸̖g̷̹̃a̸̜̐i̴̱͋ṋ̸̄ ̶̩̈a̸̳̕n̵̯͝ḑ̵̏ ̵͙̾ḁ̷̈g̵̙̍a̷̝͘ì̶̝ñ̵̞ a̷̡̲̠̜̰̣̥͛n̷͕͆̔̑̓͌͗͜͜d̴͔̝̅͐̓̓̊̄̕ ̶̧̬̦̊̅̔̒̕̚a̷̛̭͎̞͚͛͊̿g̴̼̳̲̘̏̎̄͛͝͝a̸̢̢͌i̷̞̳̖̖̥͑͋̿̈́ͅn̷̳̹͓̦͊́?
Izuku could only take comfort in his imminent death. He would finally lose enough blood to pass out and while he was blissfully unconscious, his body would give out and die.
That moment never came. Izuku pressed his face into the sand and finally screamed, it was muffled and only a small reflection of his agony, but he couldn't hear it regardless.
Even when Izuku thought he would pass out from a lack of oxygen, he didn't. The energy began buzzing around his lungs and he was forced to take proper breaths. After that stopped Izuku continued screaming. Have I already died? Did I die and now I've been damned to hell? Because the pain stops only to come back so much worse every time now.
This process repeated. Izuku had no idea for how long. But Izuku was broken out of his screaming by the cough of his throat, blood dripped out of his mouth and into the sand. Joining the larger pool of his blood. Looking to his right, the space where his arm and shoulder should have been was still empty. It was gone, but so was the gaping wound his arm's absence had left. Now covered in pale, lightly freckled skin. Not exactly healthy, but just like the rest of him. He still lacked an arm, only now there wasn't an immediate risk of death.
He was still injured; his throat was raw and bloody from screaming. It hurt to swallow, though, compared to before, it hardly bothered him now. Throwing up earlier hadn't helped his throat either.
After dragging himself out of the pool of his blood, Izuku fell down on fresh, cool sand. He was free to think now. The thoughts didn't make any sense. I'm quirkless. Then how can I do whatever that was? I have a quirk now…two quirks? No that's not possible…well neither is spontaneously manifesting a quirk. The energy, glowing, healing? Then why didn't it heal my throat? Well, I did coat the injury in the light stuff…could I like, swallow it? Should I EAT IT?
A repulsed shudder ran through Izuku's body, his stomach growled. This was a common sensation in Izuku's life, except he wasn't simply being told by his body he needed to eat; he was hungry. He wanted to eat. Any thinking about manifesting a quirk would have to be dealt with later.
The buzzing was fully gone again, replaced by the comforting hum of energy. On the short trek back to his bus, Izuku's mind drifted off to his new power again, this time he noticed something other than the humming ocean inside of him, now there were spots of cool and completely still energy. The two energies didn't mix. Those weren't there earlier. Maybe it has something to do with the healing.
It was important to note that Izuku wasn't walking back, he couldn't gather the strength to stand up, let alone walk, so he was performing an unbalanced crawl. A rare moment of thankfulness passed through him for his isolation.
He was outrageously hungry—not starving—Izuku knew how that felt and it's very different. To keep his mind off that, Izuku tried to focus harder on the energy inside of him. He could move it around now with less of a concentrated effort. There was a second difference. With the added cool energy, the infinite ocean feels full. That was mind-boggling to try to comprehend because it didn't make any sense. Still, Izuku couldn't shake the feeling that this was it. The cool energy strongly repels the humming energy. Kind of like trying to stick two repelling sides of a magnet together. Except the attracting sides weren't there, just the repulsion.
That was enough abstract quirk reasoning, Izuku needed FOOD, dragging his limbs forward was growing difficult, with every movement his remaining limbs felt heavier, and it was harder to balance himself after every inch he progressed than it had been in the moments before.
Hauling himself up the steps, Izuku crawled his way to the back of the bus where at the foot of the old mattress and pile of blankets he called his bed, was his box of food. Specifically set apart for emergencies, and if Izuku was conscious enough to reason, he still would have concluded that this qualified.
For once, in he didn't know how long, Izuku fell asleep with a full stomach.
-o-o-o-
When Izuku woke up, it was still dark out, with no sign of the rising sun. His body felt odd, full in a way he couldn't recognize. He was light too, which wasn't a comment on his malnourishment, no, he felt especially light on his right side. Looking himself over, Izuku was reminded that he didn't have a right shoulder, arm, or hand anymore. Then he saw the wrappers of food scattered on his mattress, littered across the floor, and some still inside his box of food.
His stomach lurched at the sight of the much emptier box, Izuku knew a quarter of it was gone, he checked through its contents every morning before he left and then every night after studying before he went to bed. But no matter how upset he was by the amount he had eaten; it wouldn't do any good to throw it all back up. That would make him feel even worse about it.
Izuku put the empty wrappers back in the box, his left ankle was still a little stiff. Even though he knew there wasn't any more food in it than before, seeing it look less empty helped settle his panic. His stomach calmed a little, now he didn't feel like throwing up anymore. Then he noticed the pain in his throat, he could still faintly taste the metallic of blood. Shoving a bunch of food down with an injured throat wasn't a great choice.
What do I do now? Izuku couldn't go to his various workplaces and beg them to not fire him. Even if he's entirely deaf and only has one arm. They wouldn't take me, I can't continue doing manual labor, not like this. Especially since he had some sort of quirk now and little control over it, he couldn't risk others by working just for his own selfish gain.
Izuku considered what he would do now, he wasn't very tired. Homework. Calculus! He didn't do that yet, he was far too behind for his liking. He hadn't been able to complete the worksheet from two days ago. He hadn't done yesterday's lesson either. Izuku wobbled a bit as he stood up, unbalanced, and went to sit at his desk. Flipping on the electricity and WiFi on the way. He'd need his computer to access the textbook, he had forgotten to print yesterday's lesson from the textbook at the library—the library. When his computer booted up, Izuku fumbled to type his search on the keyboard, forgetting that he only had one hand to type with. The news said the library had collapsed, one body, Officer Chibana, was pulled from the rubble. Comments from the librarian on duty at the time, a Sanae Fushokan, oh that was the counter lady's name, I didn't need to know that. She gave a comment to the media, saying she wouldn't say much but she would help however she could, she clearly felt awful about the officer who died.
Izuku did too, he may as well have killed her. Except that wasn't what he focused on. The counter lady knew his fake name, she knew Akatani Mikumo and soon the police would know too. She'll tell them I'm deaf. No matter what my new identity ends up being, no matter my lack of an arm or other changes to my appearance I'll be a suspect. I don't know if I can fake an ID that can stand up to that level of scrutiny.
And Izuku rapped his fingers against his leg, and he soon realized, the counter lady wasn't the only person who knew his identity. He told All Might his fake name, and I may not have a lot of information about his death (murder?), so the police must know at least something about me. They're probably looking for me already.
Izuku began copying down some problems from the computer as he thought. Izuku understood that there wasn't anything he knew that could help the police even if he were willing to speak with them. The manifestation of this power was questionably related at best. It wasn't like Izuku had ever been able to get his foot x-rayed, so he was left to come to the most reasonable conclusion: The massive amount of stress I was under for the last two days made my quirk finally manifest. It was an unusual coincidence, and it was reasonable to expect the police to think so too.
The fact that I am an unusual figure in was heavily involved in All Might's final battles would make them suspicious enough, if they found me they'd quickly realize my identity was forged…it's not really a good one…of course, they wouldn't overlook my MISSING ARM, that would lead them to discover my quirk. Izuku realized that despite his unwilling involvement in the first place it wouldn't matter, he'd be tied to All Might's murder.
Then maybe it was time to let Akatani Mikumo die too. In his thinking, Izuku finished copying down the problems he needed and then shut everything off, no point in being wasteful. Sitting there in the dark, Izuku became increasingly convinced that killing off Akatani Mikumo was the best course of action.
Might as well put my missing arm to good use. If I dyed and got my hair cut, no one would recognize me.
That did little to reduce the weight of what he'd be sacrificing in the process. All the work he had done as Akatani, the dozens of classes, he was close to graduating now.
He'd have to cut off every relationship he had, not that he knew many people in the first place, they were all just acquaintances— and that's all they ever would have been because he could barely talk, holding a real conversation…he hadn't ever done that…not that he can remember. So, there wasn't anyone he could miss, Izuku tried taking comfort in that.
The most distressing concern, however, was twofold. If Izuku was giving up on Akatani and moving on, he couldn't go back to any of the places he currently worked at. Not that they would want him anymore, an even more crippled piece of garbage that wasn't good for basic labor. No more work meant no money and eventually, that would leave him dead. I won't die.
Then, adding to the money problem was getting another identity—more money than he could acquire anytime soon. There were options, he'd been down this path before, but traveling down it again wasn't something he ever intended to do. Getting through high school and quickly moving away was the plan.
Then the plan would have to be delayed. High School equivalency exams existed, but he wasn't old enough to take them. He could push sixteen to get hired at some small places, places where they wouldn't check the quirk registry. Those same things would not be overlooked elsewhere. Truthfully, Izuku was small enough that he didn't even look 13 or 14—and that was his estimation for his real age. Whatever path he took moving forward, it would involve a costly new ID.
Typically, even with many thoughts running through his head, even in the near-complete darkness, Izuku could get his homework done. Why was he even attempting to do this again? This was work for Akatani…and Akatani was dead. That didn't stop him from recommitting to his effort to complete the problems he'd copied down.
It was unsuccessful, the pencil felt awkward in his left hand. Like no matter how he was always holding it, it was wrong, his hand fumbled around, trying hard to coordinate so the marks on the paper were somewhat recognizable.
With all the effort it took to write with his non-dominant hand; he couldn't put enough thought into doing the calculus questions at the same time. He only had a left hand, did that make it his dominant hand? Izuku had no idea how long he tried, it was a good, but ultimately fruitless distraction, and when sunlight began peeking through the bus's windows, Izuku finally gave up.
He was tired and hungry again. But Izuku was always tired and hungry. He'd already eaten too much of his emergency food and his source of income was gone. Any money he still had was now automatically reserved for emergencies. Besides, his throat was still raw from screaming, eating would be more trouble than it was worth.
He should try healing that later, his ankle too. Izuku set his pencil down, he had been so close. So close to being able to leave. Get a good job and get enough money to get a fake ID that could help him go to University somewhere far away from here. Best case scenario, this was a delay of months.
Despite all that, Izuku was confident that it'd be worth it to lose so much if he could stay hidden. The police would be after him and they couldn't be trusted. They never helped him before, if being alone for so many years proved anything, Izuku could take care of himself.
It wasn't time to sleep, the sun was rising, he would start with what he knew he could control. Or at least try to. Before leaving the bus, Izuku pulled on some new clothes, managing to change was an awkward task just like writing had been, and then he placed his dirty clothes in a bin. After finding some spare cloth to replace the splint he'd made for his ankle he had to try several times so that it would stay stable but still loose enough so he wouldn't cut off the circulation. He placed his dirty clothes in a bin which was followed by an even greater struggle to tie his shoes, in his frustration Izuku unknowingly let the buzzing energy flow into his arm, no fractals formed at his hand. His arm lit up with red energy instead, he immediately let go of the power in a panic. It didn't comply at first, and his panic skyrocketed, losing control would take his remaining arm, and that would be a literal death sentence. Eventually, with enough focus, it went away, but the power seemed to listen only half of the time.
Izuku decided to put off trying to heal himself. The concept itself was unusual, a power of incredible energy and one that can heal. Like having two quirks, which based on Izuku's understanding was not possible. He would have to work more on this power later.
Having crawled through a tunnel that led out of his clearing and exited close to the water, Izuku spat blood and saliva into the ocean before beginning to run along the beach. He began taking it slow, testing out how much his ankle could handle.
He couldn't actually hear the crashing of waves on the shore, he had no idea how that sounded, he liked to imagine they sounded like the feeling of his panting breaths. Izuku ran until he left the trash-covered beach behind and then turned around right after. Always staying blocked from the view of the road. He repeated this running back and forth enough times that he lost count.
This used to be relaxing, but maintaining his balance made it a chore. Making small corrections for his balance was murder on his injured ankle, forcing him to slow down more, now he ran at a slower pace than he had started with. Something as slight as a stumble would leave him crashing into the sand. By the time he decided to stop, there was sand in his clothes and in his shoes. Sand was stuck nearly everywhere on his scraped-up, sweaty body too. He cooled off in the ocean, letting the sand rinse off while ignoring the saltwater making scrapes and cuts on his body sting.
Running turned out to be a stupid decision. Because back on the bus, it dawned on Izuku that today was Wednesday and he was supposed to go on his run to the library, fill up all his water bottles, and run back. Now, he just drank the last of it.
Looking on his new computer, which was still thrilling, I own a computer! Izuku searched for another place to refill his water. He located a library a dozen or so kilometers southeast of the collapsed library. It was completely untouched by the ongoing wave of violence. Except, the distance was several kilometers too many to make the trip practical right now, by his estimation it would take at least three hours for a round trip if he ran, not accounting for the return trip with the added weight, his injured ankle, and his newfound struggle to balance.
As Izuku's eyes scanned a map of the area for an alternative he saw there was a park nearby, in the opposite direction of his preferred routes and familiar streets, but it was much closer than the other library. He'd just have to get over it. Those were things Akatani did and Akatani is DEAD. Izuku knew it was important to remind himself of this.
Akatani was dead because that identity was compromised and the police would be looking for him, maybe pro heroes too. Thinking about it, it'd be good to stay away from libraries for the foreseeable future just to be safe. They'd certainly be searching for him there. Going to the park to fill water bottles was a good excuse to scout out the area anyway.
Before getting ready to set out, Izuku looked over the map a little more, memorizing the optimal route to take and potential alternatives. He needed to pick up a phone too, Izuku still had some old connections, he never could have gotten the identity Akatani Mikumo by himself.
Izuku checked the news too, the stay-at-home advisory for Musutafu city was still in place. But the risk was reported as lower than yesterday, the advisory remained mainly as a precaution to minimize civilian presence on the streets, good enough for me. Before turning the computer off he checked the time—8:49 AM—more time had passed than he thought
Izuku grabbed his well-worn baseball cap from the hook it hung on by the doors and opened a window to pull in the clothesline from outside and grab his hoodie, it was dry. He hesitated, I wore this black hoodie yesterday, the lady at the counter, whose name Izuku had already forgotten, she might use that in my description. I do wear this hoodie a lot… Truthfully, this was Izuku's only hoodie, he hung it back up, opting not to wear one at all. I have a t-shirt and shorts on already, it's too warm to wear that, I'd draw more attention without it than I'd avoid with it on.
Looking in one of few intact side mirrors on the bus, Izuku took care in pushing all his hair under the cap. It took a few minutes; his curls didn't like cooperating. After packing his backpack full of empty water bottles Izuku made sure to grab one last thing from the bus—a pair of switchblades. Better safe than sorry. He placed one in each pocket.
He always felt safer when he had them, but he hardly ever carried weapons of any kind, sure the streets were dangerous, but Izuku used to think it wasn't worth the risk of accidentally being found with them in public. He'd been protecting himself for years, he could manage with or without one. Then he was attacked by a villain twice in one day, got caught up in another the next day, and lost an arm.
Oh yeah, I only have one arm. Izuku reconsidered where he'd put the second switchblade, there was no way he would leave it, but if he put it in the same pocket as the first knife it would be too visible, he ended up slipping the second switchblade between the inside of his left foot and his shoe. It was a good spot, I should find another knife for my other shoe…
Carrying a backpack was like normal was not possible with only one shoulder. Walking down the less populated streets of downtown Musutafu, Izuku held the top strap, normally meant for hanging up the bag, in his left hand.
The park was pleasantly peaceful, the traffic, while much more substantial than yesterday, remained noticeably lower than normal. The air was especially fresh with fewer cars on the road. Izuku walked deep into the park looking for a water fountain, the number of people decreased the further he went until he was alone. Here there were so many trees they almost entirely blocked out the sky. If he ignored the swaying of the branches and wind on his face, he could pretend that everything around him really was silent. That if anyone else was here it would be just as quiet for them as it was for him.
It took a long time to fill up the bottles, opening the lid, pressing the button awkwardly with his side to let the water out also while holding the bottle to catch it, then closing the lid, and repeating the same process for the other nine bottles. Izuku's frustration grew as each bottle was filled, after placing the final water bottle, a nicer aluminum one, in the backpack's side pouch he tried to swing it up onto his back to carry it, nearly tipping himself over in the process.
Attempting to regain his balance, Izuku dropped the bag on the concrete sidewalk and fell down to a knee, hand firmly on the ground to keep himself steady. Really? Something as simple as this? Izuku sniffled. Crippled because I'm deaf, crippled because I only have one arm. Izuku let out what he hoped sounded like a laugh, does that make me double crippled? Crippled 2?
How could he possibly provide for himself like this? Izuku tried not to think about that.
Not allowing himself to get excessively worked up, Izuku grabbed the bag and hoisted the straps over his head, they rested on his left shoulder so the bag would sit diagonally across his back. The moment the bag was in place, the straps dug painfully into his shoulder, Izuku figured this was better than the straps slipping off.
The pain reminded him to be thankful he still had a shoulder left.
Out of the park now, Izuku could see clouds were rushing in to cover the blue sky, he must have not noticed while under the dense cover of the trees. The change in the weather reflected his mood, which was becoming increasingly angry and irritable. I should've checked the weather before I left. So Izuku decided to take the fastest route to his next stop, taking him away from the city's main walkways into backroads and alleyways. Wasting time would only further strain himself further. Already, the weight of the shoulder straps made his back and neck stiff, if it wouldn't defeat half the point of going out in the first place, he'd dump the water and move on.
Maybe it'd be for the best if he just went straight home. Spending the little money he had on a burner phone was the easiest way to contact the people who'd helped him forge the Akatani Mikumo identity. That was going to be three years ago this August, huh. But it wasn't the only way. Besides, there was no guarantee the numbers he had still worked so it would be better to not bother with the phone altogether.
The second Izuku decided to find some other way, he went straight back to the main road, relief flooding through him. Now he'd have more money, it would be better to wait to spend any until he really needed something. Back on a main road, Izuku picked up his pace, eager to get home as soon as possible. Arriving in a more familiar part of the town, he began taking a routine detour back towards Dagobah Beach.
He called it routine because it was standard practice to do this, not because he ever took the same route twice. There was this one time when Akatani was at the library, he'd tried to calculate how many potential routes he could take with all the twists and turns on the many roads of the area, Izuku couldn't remember the number but it was a lot. Due to the limited number of roads that actually led to Dagobah Beach, Izuku had created a tunnel system throughout the dump so he could enter from as many different places as possible. Often when it was warm enough, and even sometimes when it wasn't, Izuku would hide his things and swim all the way to one of the entrances on the side of the dump facing the ocean.
This system had been useful multiple times in the past, Izuku had successfully shaken off past pursuers and discouraged them from ever following him again. Most times when he knew he was being followed he wouldn't go home at all, but not every time, he couldn't be predictable. Both bad people and people who thought they had good intentions were treated the same, they wanted to mess with his life, and Izuku always made sure they never got the chance.
While Izuku had been downtown, these streets were far emptier than they'd been earlier. There had even been more cars yesterday. Further along one of his shorter routes home, Izuku looked around again and found himself completely alone. There was no person, no car on the street.
Something changed, Izuku began running, his head still on a swivel, did the officials change the advisory to a lockdown order? Izuku didn't want to think so but could think of no other reason. I was in downtown Musutafu for, an hour and a half, maybe two hours total? I took some time exploring the park. But I'm sure I wasn't gone for longer than two hours…but this still doesn't make any sense, why would just this area be locked down? I thought lockdowns were by prefecture. Did that change? Why would it?
From his estimate, he was half a kilometer from home, it would be painful, but he could run the whole way. He sped up; every step brought pain up his leg. Izuku was close and this cursed backpack was slowing him down, he wanted to just dump it right now, but then he wouldn't have any water or any water bottles and he needed water. If he remembered correctly there was a backroad close by that he could cut through. At the next intersection, he ran diagonally across the street and onto a much smaller road between buildings. This backroad connected to two things, a dead-end alleyway, and another major street, it would be a good place to store my stuff, except Izuku wasn't willing to take that risk. Running past, he caught sight of two people on the other end.
Blood-red bandannas and black Kabuki masks—the Sogai-Zai. They were unmistakable in Musutafu, it was shocking for any of them to be out in the daylight, even in the shadow of the city's alleys. These Yakuza always conducted business at night, and never in this part of the prefecture. Like everything else, that had changed.
Triggered by his panic, the buzzing ocean of energy returned, Izuku chose to ignore that as best as he could while continuing his run past the alleyway hoping, maybe they didn't hear me, maybe they didn't see me. A quick glance told him they were. He ran the rest of the distance of the backroad and was spat out onto a street, skidding a bit as he turned to the left and continued running, knowing there were no crowds to get lost in, no open buildings to duck into. Of all the places to run into trouble. This area had few backroads, that one alley was a dead-end, good for hiding something, not good for being chased. It was inconvenient but ultimately his own fault, he'd chosen this route entirely because he'd thought it would be safest on the main roads.
Peculiarly, this street wasn't completely empty like the others, on the other side of the street, four cars were parked. Two in front of one building, a gap, and then two in front of another. That's really weird. A group of people rushed out of the building in the middle, Izuku had just run past it. Turning his head around he saw more Sogai-Zai. They split up, half the group to the cars on the left and the other to the cars on the right. The moment they were clear the building exploded.
Izuku half fell, half threw himself to the ground, covering his head. He felt the shockwave as small pieces of glass and rubble rained down on him, he took the opportunity to try and even out his breaths. The buzzing hadn't gone away, pushing itself to the forefront of his mind, trying to shove back the energy earlier had only resulted in pain, Izuku tried to lower the energy, he could do that. Like walking along the shore with his feet in the water instead of submerged in the depths of the ocean.
There were still more important things to be worried about. Positioning his head to look behind him from where he was covering his head on the ground, the Sogai-Zai from the building already took off down the street in their series of cars, each turning a different direction. The members from the alley were chasing him.
I don't want to fight. Being on the streets, it was unavoidable. Three years now since I've encountered something like this? I don't want to fight.
He freed himself of the backpack's straps and let the bag fall to the ground as he picked himself up and ran, knowing he wouldn't be fast enough to get away. It's so much better to run. If they would just leave me alone! Ignoring again the surge of buzzing that came with his increased panic Izuku focused instead on how to avoid dying.
These people weren't exhausted, injured, and in pain. Izuku was all those things, the heavy breaths he took made his throat ache more. Before they finally caught up to him, he grabbed the switchblade from his pocket, flicked it open while taking a quick look behind him, and then he planted his right foot on the ground and spun around, the knife swinging out in an arc to greet them.
Izuku's knife sliced deep through its mark, between the bottom of the headband and the top of the mask of the closest Yakuza behind him. They hadn't expected that. When Izuku tried to step back and create distance after his attack he could hardly move his feet, his body was heavy. Their quirk. Had they increased the strength of gravity?
His legs shook, struggling to bear the weight of his own body, his arm fell to his side and he dropped the knife, unable to move it. He was on the verge of collapsing, the strain on his left ankle was nearly unbearable, but being pinned on the ground would quickly be followed by his death. The Sogai-Zai never leave witnesses. The Sogai-Zai never hesitate.
The Sogai-Zai member that Izuku had not attacked held a strained hand out at him. Their outstretched arm trembled, nearly touching him, their other hand looked like it was moving in slow motion as it went towards the gun holstered on their side. They're not immobilized like I am, but they're moving a lot slower. There's got to be some sort of drawbacks like a short-range or strict time limit, otherwise, they would have used it earlier.
The other Sogai-Zai, who'd been cut by Izuku's blade, was not affected by the quirk at all, despite being no further from him than the other Yakuza. Maybe there is also a limit on the extent the effect can be applied, or at least a high degree of focus is required to stop me and not their partner. The injured woman had torn off her mask and held up a hand to her brow to try and stop the blood that was spilling down her face, it had gotten in her eyes.
Good. In her other hand was a gun, which was she struggled to aim at Izuku's head. Not good.
Before the gun could get any closer to firing at him, Izuku shifted his weight to the side and let himself collapse on the still-masked yakuza. Managing to crush them on the ground, likely breaking their focus as they stopped using their quirk.
This didn't deter the bleeding Yakuza woman aimed her gun, ignoring whether she might hit her fellow Sogai-Zai member. Free to move once again, Izuku hesitated, trying to hold up the dam to stop his quirk from flooding through him, and then grabbing the switchblade from his shoe while rolling off the body he'd collapsed onto. Flipping the blade open in his hand, Izuku moved up into a crouch, throwing the knife at her head.
The problem with this move is that when trying to transition from a roll into a crouch to throw a knife it was useful to have a second arm to stabilize yourself. Izuku didn't have that luxury anymore and combined with half his focus being occupied with controlling his quirk, his aim was thrown off and he missed. The lack of stability also turned Izuku's crouch back into a roll on the ground.
Just as he got his arm under him to push himself up, the gravity increased again. He fell, pinned on the ground. No no no.
The buzzing energy stopped listening to Izuku entirely and broke through the dam, flooding through Izuku against his will. So, he latched onto something he'd only felt twice before, when his arm exploded and when he'd healed the wound that was left in his arm's absence. The feeling of letting the energy flow out of his body, there were no red lines on his skin, no toxic green lightning that brought only paralyzing pain.
Waves of warm light emanated from him, glowing a warm yellow and orange like the sunset. It was hard to maintain, but the power didn't hurt, it didn't overwhelm his body. His body felt lighter, he could move normally.
The Yakuza woman could only hold her gun with one hand, still struggling to keep the blood out of her eyes with the other, the finger she held on the trigger moved. She didn't miss. That didn't stop Izuku from springing up and at her. They collided with a lot more force than Izuku expected, he used the woman as a cushion as they landed in the middle of the street, her head snapping against the ground. The gun landed much further away. Izuku's hat had fallen off along the way, his hair blew in the wind. His attention immediately turned to the other member of the Sogai-Zai who had just drawn their gun. Their quirk probably doesn't work at this distance. But a gun would do the job just fine.
No longer burdened by the increased gravity caused by their quirk, Izuku felt lighter, I should be able to move even faster. When Izuku shot up from the ground once again he immediately fell back down, his ankle gave out and there was an awful pain in his right side. Thankfully falling down had put him out of the gun's sights for a moment longer.
Izuku had lost control over the buzzing energy, it immediately flooded inside him again. His side was enveloped in worse and worse pain except he couldn't bother to worry why because whoever could move first was going to win.
Not sure what else to do, Izuku punched. Trying to push energy out like before instead of welling it up inside. A gale of force erupted from his arm, and Izuku felt the bones in his arm and hand snap and crunch at the same moment he saw the Sogai-Zai member being thrown back so violently that the shape of their body was imprinted into a building. Izuku knew they were dead when they fell to the ground, leaving a massive stain of blood dripping down from the crater-like impact left by their head.
Izuku had to remember to breathe. It was something he could feel, and it reminded him that he was still alive. The air stunk of smoke and explosives. His mind was racing, ready to continue fighting to take care of the next threat. It's over Izuku. It's over, you won. He reminded himself. Police and other emergency services, while spread thin, would arrive soon. Raising more questions. Where are the police and the heroes? Didn't they notice that explosion? Why weren't any of them even in the area? Either way, by the time they arrived, no trace of Izuku could be left. Allowing himself the time to recover would leave him worse off if he didn't get back to a secure location. He would have to be quick.
His arm was extensively fractured, and the energy had burst blood vessels inside his arm too, making his arm one giant mottled purple bruise. His ankle was worse off than before and the pain in his right side turned stemmed from a bullet wound. Judging by the blood running down his back it had passed through, so he was losing an alarming amount of blood.
All this combined should have stopped him from being able to move. His body hurt, sure, but it was dull in comparison to the unfathomable agony he'd been subjected to by his new quirk. Putting everything else aside, Izuku had to deal with his bullet wound first. The mangled status of his arm made it difficult for the energy to flow through, he struggled to get it through as he walked over to the closest Sogai-Zai member, the female whose face he'd cut. While hobbling over the check the body he made sure not to let up on the focus he placed in directing the buzzing energy. There was no need to kneel down and hold up two of his twisted purple fingers to her neck to know she was dead. Blood was pooling under her head. Her skull had been crushed when it hit the ground. But he still let himself fall down next to the body.
That's three people I've killed. All of them in similar ways. Izuku wouldn't allow his thoughts to dwell there for long, he was focusing on making the energy stay at a pleasant hum so he could carefully move it out of his arm through his fingertips before solidifying and connecting the intense glowing energy. Using that, he could cover the entrance and exit wounds enough to stem the bleeding for now. It worked.
Looking at the body again, Izuku noticed something attached to the woman's belt, not the holster for her gun, but a small black object with a couple of small buttons next to a series of digital numbers reading: 4:38—4:36—4:35
His eyes widened, that's a bomb. It's counting down, it's going to explode. Did it turn on when she landed on the ground? Why does she have one? She wasn't bombing the building she had been in the alley. What were they doing in that alley in the first place? Setting up the bombs as a diversion?
Izuku turned his head to the sky, columns of smoke rose not only from the building that exploded but in every direction, there were columns of smoke rising into the air. I wouldn't have heard those explosions. That's why no hero or any emergency services have arrived yet. The Sogai-Zai clean up their messes so no one can catch them. Seems they decided to make so many that whatever their target or targets were would get lost in the massive destruction.
That didn't mean he would hesitate to get out, he needed to get out before the bomb exploded. Checking the rest of the belt, Izuku found two clips of bullets, he pocketed those. Unclipping the bomb from the woman's belt, he carefully looked it over. There was no clear way to turn it off. What am I gonna do with this? Just leave it?
Izuku looked around, the scene where he'd fought was bloody. Blood had dripped to the ground from the cut he'd made on the woman's forehead and from being shot through his abdomen.
Most significantly, blood pooled around the two skulls he'd unintentionally bashed in, but was it really unintentional? I was ready to do anything to survive. When the police find this, they'll pick the scene apart, find my blood, put it in the system. That can't happen, I won't let them have the potential to murder my future identity. The bomb in his hand, he placed it under the woman's body. Oh gosh, what am I doing? Every movement he made with his arm and hand sent shocks of pain through him, but he didn't pay attention.
There was another bomb on the other dead Sogai-Zai member, this one was also counting down already, and he found two more clips of bullets. He placed this bomb under the body too. Before leaving, Izuku forced his broken body to stumble over to pick up his knives and retrieve both guns as well. Making sure the safety was on them both before putting them in his backpack. It took longer than he felt comfortable with bombs set to go off, but he found the bullet that had been shot through him and picked that up too.
He slipped the straps back over his head and ignored the pain of the weight resting on his broken shoulder. Walking away, he looked at the damage the Sogai-Zai had done to the building with their bombs, and to all nearby buildings as well, Izuku entered the backroad he'd run through several minutes earlier. Every movement now took conscious effort, don't collapse, keep on walking, ignore the pain in your ankle, in your arm, and in your side. Keep up the focus on the light that's keeping you from bleeding out. He wasn't capable of making it home, and even if he could that would risk the police or a hero seeing him alone on the road during what must be a stay-at-home order—would they arrest me for that? Of course, in my current state, they'd have questions. Even if they don't recognize me.
And now I'm desecrating the bodies of the people I murdered. And for what? Selfishly protecting my identity? Izuku questioned himself, trying to make himself feel better about what he's done, only to end up feeling disgusted with himself.
From that backroad, Izuku entered the dead-end alleyway. Ha, dead-end. I might die here. Managing to drag himself forward enough to collapse between two dumpsters. At least being too small for my age comes in handy here. It wasn't sanitary by any stretch but that wasn't the most immediate issue. Moving his hand onto his abdomen, Izuku focused energy there again, thinking of nothing else but spreading the energy into the wound and up his shattered arm.
The maddening pain started again. Every moment was one of agony. He watched his arm slowly knit itself back together and in every moment his arm shattered again and again. Combined with the same feeling in his right side, like he'd just been shot á̸̖g̷̹̃a̸̜̐i̴̱͋ṋ̸̄ ̶̩̈a̸̳̕n̵̯͝ḑ̵̏ ̵͙̾ḁ̷̈g̵̙̍a̷̝͘ì̶̝ñ̵̞. Distracting him from the shudder that went through the ground when the two bombs he'd set went off.
Izuku couldn't tell how long it lasted because the agony of each moment made it last forever. His brain so overloaded with pain that it was paralyzing, he didn't pass out. All he could do was bite down on the straps of his backpack and deal with it.
He sat there, his entire body rigid against the wall. There was nothing but the pain that mounted with every second, his vision blacked out, but his eyes were open wide, unseeing. Izuku wasn't granted the mercy of falling unconscious. All his senses were blocked out, no vision, no hearing (though that wasn't new), no scent, no taste of the straps held between his teeth mixed with blood from his throat. He had no ability to perceive time, he was only racked with the hell of unending pain.
It is said that time is relative, so when you can perceive nothing but unending pain it doesn't matter how long it lasts. To Izuku it might as well have lasted forever.
Thanks for the reviews!
Sarah9730, it does make sense. Doesn't it?
KuR06320, shame no one found Izuku at the beach. The alternative is far more agonizing.
Favorite or leave a nice review if you think it's good. Leave a raging comment if you hate it.
Or do nothing. Thanks for reading!