NOTE: This story isn't intended for sensitive readers. Readers who are on the lookout for trigger warnings are advised to give Singlehandedly a pass.
Late Wednesday night, Izuku stopped zoning out, he was ravenous enough that his hunger finally beat his high aversion to eating from his store of food. Izuku ate two granola bars as he put his water bottles, and the other things he'd picked up, into their proper places. Reminding himself that his food store was exactly for bad times like this. When things got better, he'd stock it back up better than ever before. That reasoning helped calm his stomach enough to keep the food down, he still felt sick though.
Now, laid out on his desk at the front of the bus were the beginnings of a plan for where he'd go from here, the top priority is getting a new identity. It was the first thing he thought of doing to occupy himself when he stopped dissociating.
The papers Izuku had made nearly three years ago for Akatani Mikumo were stamped with a very special quirk called Overlook, whoever came into contact with those papers would look at them with less scrutiny. It was rumored that the quirk used oils from the person's skin, it would be so fascinating to study…
Except, the specific workings of the quirk were unclear, but from what Izuku could deduce it was effective and long-lasting. Still, it alone wouldn't be enough for what Izuku needed now, leaving him at a dead end because despite there being people who could point him in the right direction, simply getting that information would be for a cost far beyond what he could pay.
Turning on his computer, Izuku finished scrubbing Akatani Mikumo from existence. What had been there in the first place was already hard to find, so he could be assured if anyone was looking for him, they wouldn't have been able to find much by now—especially if they were as busy as all the police were right now. No one would find anything about Akatani Mikumo from the internet.
That left the counter lady from the library as the main source of information about Akatani. She knows what I look like, that I'm deaf. Izuku added another thing to his list: 'Figure out how to get hearing back.'
Izuku never knew how he lost his hearing, maybe he'd been born deaf, or he'd lost it in the accident that cost him his memories. Getting his hearing back was something he'd looked into before, and based on his limited understanding of human anatomy—newly developed cochlear implant technology from I-Island would be his best bet. Acquiring that made getting a new identity seem easy, even if he could be so bold to assume he could get the technology in the first place and then get it implanted; he would need time to learn how to hear and speak.
Izuku couldn't remember how things sound so he wouldn't necessarily need to re-learn how to hear, but he would still need to learn the association between words and how people speak. Which was a key reason why cochlear implants typically worked best when implanted when one was very young. Maybe I-Island's technology will help circumvent that. It's quirk-assisted if I remember correctly…
That line of thought had to but cut off. Long-term considerations had to be accounted for, Izuku could not realistically think of that as an option. Even if he could do it, such cutting-edge technology could be traced back to whatever crimes he committed to get the technology in the first place. He knew better than to entertain such a fantasy. Especially without a guarantee of success, the implants didn't always work, and Izuku wasn't sure what kind of hearing loss he had.
Might as well figure out how to regrow my arm while I'm at it. I need to find an alternative… Izuku brought his hand up to the keyboard. What was her name again? Come on, I should be able to remember… A single search gave him his answer, Sanae Fushokan. Still waiting to talk to the police, who are still busy. A small smirk grew on his face.
She was always so eager to try and help me.
The smirk faded.
No one but her even bothered to reach out. Could I really?
It was either somehow acquire miracle technology that might be able to restore his hearing...or keep her quiet. And if he went with this second option the question becomes how he should go about ensuring her silence. There's always the easy way…
Izuku paused.
I kill three people in two days and suddenly I've regressed. Akatani would be so disappointed… His opinion doesn't matter though. Akatani is dead and you need to move on. If you don't you'll stumble and you'll trip and then you'll never get things back on track. There's the next identity to focus on anyways.
But how could he keep the counter lady quiet without killing her? Izuku grappled with this question as he went to the back of the bus and lifted up his mattress, under it was a scrap of paper with an address written on it in faded ink.
I really should have torn that up and tossed the pieces into the ocean. She cared about me...too much really. I mean, that's on her, but maybe Akatani could make a final appearance. For her sake.
Of course, that was a lie and Izuku knew it, he would be doing it for his own benefit. If he was a good person, he would leave her alone. But Izuku knew he was selfish; he'd do it anyway. She doesn't live too far. I'll visit early in the morning.
There was still quite a bit of time to kill before then, so Izuku decided to pick a name for his next identity. Although acquiring a new identity wasn't possible at the moment, he could do this much. From his desk Izuku took out a notebook, the one Akatani used to use for calculus; he spent the next hour writing down ideas, only to scratch most of them out. Picking a name was a big decision. As the only living person who knew his name was Izuku, he understood how valuable names were.
Eventually, Izuku decided on Amari. Amari…yeah that's good. The family name would have to be worked out later, it would be much more complicated to figure out. The plan for Akatani had been to build up the identity from the bare necessities—that included graduating from high school.
Delaying the plan and taking equivalency exams was out of the question, he simply wasn't old enough to fake it. This next identity will need to have already graduated from high school so he could stay on track and leave Musutafu before the end of the summer. When Izuku checked the time again, it was already past midnight, it's Thursday now, that took more time than I'd thought.
But it was still far too early to start heading over to the counter lady's house, so Izuku checked the news. Hoping he wouldn't find anything related to his actions. Of course, that didn't change that he took special care in searching for anything even tangentially related to what he had done. There were also some questions he had regarding the complete shutdown of his area of Musutafu, it was a struggle to use the computer with his single, half-feeling hand, but his efforts eventually yielded answers.
Thanks to the work of an undisclosed underground hero, some of the Sogai-Zai's plans were uncovered early, revealing the primary targeted area—Moyasu District within Chikara Ward—this provided the Hero Commission with the time to deploy their resources that ensured all civilians in Moyasu stayed uninvolved.
As expected, other districts within Chikara Ward were targeted less, but the results were grisly. Not enough heroes and police were available in the first place, those who were there simply couldn't keep up. Most of them were so tied up with the chaos of saving more lives outside of Moyasu that catching the Sogai-Zai fell by the side.
Probably what those Yakuza planned on all along. Naturally, the success of the Hero Commission was lauded by all, which it's always a good thing when so many lives are pre-emptively saved because it allowed others to be saved down the line.
Izuku had no issue with that, he just didn't remember the Hero Commission having someone with a quirk that could do that. Maybe it's a new acquisition, whatever the quirk does it might be related to sound because I never noticed any effects—maybe there is a technology element to the quirk too. It's also likely it takes time to implement successfully if the commission needed the early warning.
Below where he'd decided on the name for his next identity, Izuku he began the painfully slow process of writing down some notes. He jotted some key points down and some questions for later, there was more news to get to.
Currently, there were no leads of the Sogai-Zai's whereabouts and what their goal had been. Notably, there was not so much as a hint of news of infighting in the group either, which Izuku hoped was the conclusion officials came to when they analyzed what he'd done. He wrote down a reminder to keep checking in on that.
When Izuku had exhausted the available information on that subject he switched to a still breaking story.
More leaks—this time causing the implosion of Nighteye's Agency. That's really bad, what a good time to be a Yakuza. Then he saw what the leaks were about. Only the blood work was leaked. There was no identifiable quirk factor in the blood.
NO QUIRK. ALL MIGHT LOST HIS QUIRK.
The buzzing energy surged, threatening to overwhelm him again. This time Izuku had enough control to make it stop, shoving it down with enough force the energy continued receding after he stopped. Not a hint of protest this time. He wrote this reaction off as a coincidence—my quirk did that when I read the news of All Might's death…
Then he moved to find some other news to look into because there is no way he could handle that at the moment. Not with the implications this news might have.
Izuku's thoughts still ran on. The timing is far too coincidental to overlook. My quirk just manifested. Really? I've been in far worse situations—
Come on. Prioritize and organize the information Izuku. He reminded himself. This is not the most urgent thing you need to deal with. There was already enough to worry about. Another freak-out with my quirk will cripple me to a point where…where I'll be better off dead.
To chase those dangerous thoughts away, Izuku searched the current state of lockdown in Chikara Ward's districts, advisories were now in place. The lockdown orders that Izuku had been unaware of had been revoked. Provided how afraid people are to go outside in the first place, I'm sure most people complied.
Izuku kept the official page for these updates open and then threw himself into social media (using a guest account of course) to keep his mind occupied. It also was the best way to gauge the public's reaction to current events.
The first thing to really capture his attention was a trending picture, trending not just in Japan, but internationally.
He didn't recognize it initially, noticing instead the abundance of posts in English, he was rusty, but he could use the internet to translate whatever he had trouble on. Americans seemed especially upset over All Might's murder—unsurprising—the hero had been nearly as big of an icon in the United States as he had been in Japan. A lot of the reactions went far beyond upset, into the territory of outrage and obscene criticism coupled with calls to do something about it. All in all, a very American reaction.
It was while he pondered that subject that he came across the photo of Musutafu's skyline. Which had columns of black smoke scattered across it, so numerous and distinct that they didn't blend into the backdrop of a sky already blanketed in grey clouds. Except, the sky wasn't completely covered, the central focus of the image was an unnatural break in the clouds, a small hole, circular in shape. Through it, a sunbeam shone down. The most common image used was a truly beautiful picture, increasingly associated with the hashtags #PrayersForMusutafu, #StandWithJapan, and more locally, #ChikaraWardShutdown.
People interpreted the picture in a number of ways. As a sign of hope. The absence of a pillar. A reason to stay strong and persevere, to be strong like All Might. As the picture spread, another hashtag popped up: #BeaconOfHope
Posts with it ranged from hopeful and solemn to meme-ing people's misspelling of the hashtag as #BaconOfHope. Izuku smiled a bit, no matter how bad things get it seems people can still make memes out of the situation. It wasn't until he scrolled past a post of an article questioning the origins of the hole in the clouds that he paused to think about how that got there in the first place.
There was no scientific explanation from meteorologists, who were baffled. Its peculiar nature fueling the picture's viral status.
And where there was no scientific explanation, both the common person and journalists jumped to the cause being a weather-altering quirk. Inevitably, numerous comparisons were drawn to All Might, whose death loomed over everything.
Drawn deeper into this mystery, Izuku read across several forums where people were deducing where exactly in Chikara Ward this was above based on maps and recognizable features in the image. To Izuku's dismay, every time, Moyasu District was pinpointed as the answer. Still, he continued searching for just one different conclusion. He was met with an analysis that used impressive calculations to deduce, as accurately as possible from a few pictures, which blocks the hole was above.
The list included the block where he had fought against the Sogai-Zai.
So Izuku began trying to disprove this by checking the math this person had done, when he failed at that after the sixth time of going through them, he set out to do his own calculations.
After doing the math several times over he had reached the same conclusion, not only that but with a more exact answer to the epicenter. Somewhere around 3-8 Moyasu district. If Izuku could speak out loud, the obscenities would have been so vulgar to make himself pause. But because that wasn't the case they came as an endless stream through his thoughts.
It must have been me. With a freakish weather-altering quirk. Just like All Might's. Izuku remembered a comparison to All Might's defeat of the Sludge Villain the day he died. I was unconscious for that.
He searched for footage of the sludge villain incident, sure enough, All Might's punch altered the weather, making it rain. It was a little too similar to what Izuku's own punch must have done, creating a hole in the clouds. Part of him felt validated by that, the punch nearly blow his arm off and now he's lost most of the feeling in the limb.
Izuku caught himself analyzing the similarities between his quirk and All Might's.
All Might lost his quirk somehow.
Izuku had stopped going out of his way to analyze quirks when he'd made Dagobah Beach his home. The problem was he still did it in his head, he had done it fighting against the Sogai-Zai. It helped save his life. This situation was so unusual and unprecedented that his mind couldn't help but run with it.
With his thoughts racing faster and faster, the idea crossed his mind, can a quirk be passed on? Considering All Might's strength enhancement, something like that would be completely unrelated. That would eliminate the possibility of it being a dual quirk, because those are cases where it seems like a person has two quirks but it's actually two parts that are superficially different while on a deeper level they're interconnected. There has never been a case of someone being born with two quirks. Illegal experiments on the other hand...
Izuku stood up and began pacing. A quirk that can transfer to another person would be completely unprecedented. I'm probably just overthinking this, it's a coincidence. It has to be. Izuku told himself. All Might's quirk just, disappeared the same time my own quirk manifests?
An unusual manifestation of his quirk he could handle, but there was reasonable doubt in that theory. Quirk manifestations beyond the age of four were rare, exponentially so for every year after, to the point of near impossibility. He's never heard of a circumstance where someone manifests a quirk like this so late. It always happens because someone had an 'invisible quirk' that could be missed entirely because it's only noticeable in rare circumstances or someone undergoes some sort of incredible strain and that situation causes the quirk to manifest.
The buzzing started Tuesday morning; the Sludge Villain incidents were Monday afternoon. And I've been in far worse situations than that… If I never actually had a quirk then I need to check my other premise about All Might's power, no one knows what it is. Strength enhancement is nothing more than a loosely supported theory that relied heavily on assumptions.
Then Izuku stopped, he had his answer. It's best I don't know at all, like everything else. Regardless of the truth, my plans are the same, this quirk has already destroyed a lot of my body. I'd rather die than make it worse. It's my choice what I do.
Having seen enough news for the month, Izuku turned off his computer and reached under his seat to grab a flashlight. He flicked it on and shut off the electricity, it was hard to gauge how much he had left after spending hours on his computer.
Normally, he'd try to go to bed but nothing was normal anymore, he'd be lucky to sleep at all. Izuku slipped on his shoes and walked outside, there was something he wanted to see.
The spot of sand he'd punched. There was hardly ever any wind in his clearing, the trash blocked it, and there was not even a hint of a breeze tonight. It was cool though, so the trash smelled less disgusting than usual. Izuku crouched down when he found the spot, which was easy to find in the beam of the flashlight, it was a massive red stain. There was no wind to blow it away and cover it up, so it was undisturbed.
In the middle where his right fist connected with the ground before exploding, the ground now reflected the light. It was a glassy substance, Izuku set down the light and touched it, from what little he could feel it was like glass, just not quite. It had prevented a lot of the blood from draining through, leaving the area dark red days later. When he dug around the spot there didn't seem to be a clear edge, so he dug down where he could, no bottom in sight. He gave up eventually, not realizing how long he'd been digging in the sand.
When he moved his hand to pick up the flashlight, he saw the state it was in: cut and bloody. This is supposed to really hurt, isn't it? Until now he didn't even notice the pain, it was there, just muted like all feeling was in the area. It didn't bother him anyway. That's probably a bad thing, I never even felt an edge.
Using the light from his quirk to heal it was out of the question. So, he went inside and got out some first aid supplies, carefully disinfecting and wrapping his hand. Infections will get me sick and being sick leaves me dead. The upside to not caring about pain was that the process was much faster, even with a missing arm. He did still try and be gentle, but it was complete guesswork whether he was or not.
After finishing by tearing off the bandage from the roll with his teeth, Izuku laid down on his bed, it was chilly now, verging on cold. He was too tired to put everything away and he wanted to hide under his pile of blankets, which were old and had tears and holes, but still clean and warm.
That might be enough to put him to sleep. Which would be bad, he had to leave on time to meet with the counter lady first thing in the morning. Izuku didn't have an alarm clock. So he stayed awake instead. I don't have anything to wear to bed either, this was my last clean outfit. I hope the counter lady doesn't think I smell…
Not all of him was bothered by the chilly air, his arm was mostly numb. It wouldn't feel warmth either.
Before setting out, Akatani got up early and wrote out his message for the counter lady. He'd go out of his comfort zone to try to say as much as he could, then leave. It took a couple of iterations before it was just right, and then a couple more to improve the handwriting-which was still lacking. He'd cried while writing the whole time so dried tears and smudged ink were visible on the final draft.
His outfit was carefully selected, he changed out of yesterday's outfit, which he had bled in, and into whatever smelled the least. The black hoodie had to be included, when going out for water yesterday he decided it would be best to hide in plain sight, no reason to draw attention to himself by wearing a hoodie while it was warm. He also put on his single non-ripped pair of pants, the nicest he owned because he'd splurged to buy them once, wearing them only on the most important occasions. The last addition was his knives, one in his left pocket and the other in his left shoe.
The morning air still held a chill, so a hoodie wasn't out of the question, it was also essential to help hide his missing arm. No one had paid him any more than a second glance before being far too worried about other things—rightfully so. Today would be different, the issue was that the hoodie hung awkwardly on him, he didn't have a right shoulder, or arm, or hand. So, Akatani took some time stuffing it with a combination of paper cloth, thin pipe, and other things including a toilet paper roll as part of the shoulder until it looked normal. The random assortment of objects he kept around coming in handy once again. Then he used some tape to secure everything inside and keep the end of the sleeve secured inside the hoodie's front pocket.
When Akatani finished, he pulled the hoodie over his head and took the route out of the clearing that would disturb his fake arm the least. His route was predetermined, he strolled along the beach for a while, before heading further into the city. More people and cars were out today than yesterday and even more than Tuesday, a lot of them were helping clear out the wreckage. Police and hero presence seemed to be high, trying to deter crime. Their noble efforts didn't change that they were spread thin.
When the apartment complex where the counter lady lived was in sight, Akatani began scouting the surrounding area. There was no other way to tell if she was being monitored. Not that it was likely, police had many more serious matters to attend to. To his relief, he was right, The building wasn't all that nice, but who was he to judge? Before going in, he checked everything was normal looking and secure with his right arm. Then he began his trek up the stairs to the sixth floor, carefully staying out of sight of every camera, which required some creative maneuvering. He had to drop down from the seventh floor because there was a spot he needed to avoid entirely.
Checking that he was at the right place, Akatani pulled down his hood and knocked softly three times, and then grabbed a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. The counter lady from the library opened the door.
He didn't bother to look up and make eye contact, taking a deep breath to calm himself and focusing on making words leave his mouth, "Hi…I wa-nted to a-sk…you some—th-ing." I know I sound so stupid.
Akatani did his best to annunciate each sound properly. He looked up, the lady's eyes were soft. Her posture relaxed, exuding patience. She did look surprised, he'd never even tried to speak to her before.
How could I have thought to come here and kill her?
With enough words out of his mouth, he handed her the paper, no need to waste more of her time with his pathetic and awkward attempt to speak. His hand held out for a moment before she took it, reading it slowly and tearing up.
I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself so much.
Not closing the door, she said, carefully mouthing the words, "Be right back." And went further into her house, returning with a notepad and pen, she wrote something down and showed him: 'Not yet, and I never planned on it. No need to worry, so please don't. And it wasn't your fault in the first place.'
"Thank you." Akatani made eye contact as he said that, "S-so m-uch." Not just for that, but for everything. He bowed to her as normally as he could, "I n-eed to…go." He looked back up and the counter lady nodded her head.
Akatani walked away, glancing behind himself to see the door to her apartment was shut. A tear ran down his face.
Izuku continued forward, somber for a couple moments, with that taken care of, I guess Akatani is really dead…That doesn't matter. You just have to keep moving forward and never look back. I was just out tying up the final loose end to put Akatani to rest for good.
As he walked on the seventh story and looked over the railing, the thought crossed Izuku's mind that he wanted to die too.
It would be better than manipulating people like this…And for what?
Izuku steeled himself, it's so I can live a normal life. That will be worth it.
As he had lied awake on his bed for hours, Izuku carefully thought out what he would put in that note. First, he needed to know whether she'd spoken with the police yet and if she hadn't yet, to leave out personal details about Akatani when she did because he didn't want to cause his family any trouble. He felt so awful about what happened to the Officer and blamed himself for her death, the police knowing that he caused her death would make him more of a burden to his family.
It was a methodically crafted mix of lies and a few truths, he did knew he was at fault for Officer Chibana's death—that was the undeniable truth. Everything else was there to build upon her suspicions about his life and evoke sympathy to ensure she wouldn't reveal any personal information about him to the police.
And it worked wonderfully. Izuku hated himself for it and forced himself to continue thinking about what he'd done. At least you didn't kill her. That thought traitorously intruded into his head, making him more sick of himself. Reminding him of the weight of the knife in his pocket, what would I have done if she said she already spoke with the police? Would I have waited to see what she told them about me? Or, maybe I might've just—acted. All he could do was wonder.
At least he could return to some of the peaceful monotony of his daily life, Izuku needed to do laundry when he got back. It had rained recently, so he should have enough water collected for it. The top of the bus covered a fairly big area to catch water, I can't remember how much I need. The last time I did my own laundry was during the first few weeks at Dagobah Beach...
It was the thought of this normal task waiting for him that made Izuku excited, he walked a little faster to get back home. There were plenty of mundane things to do to keep his mind occupied. No more classes, but lots of projects to take care of.
Doing these things helped him feel normal, yes he was still a homeless, broke, and disabled teenager, but it helped him forget about those things for a time. Allowing him to keep his worries to a manageable level. More importantly, it kept the kind of memories he wished he could forget forever from popping up. He couldn't lose this. He refused to forfeit his agency. So he would stick to it.
He wouldn't lose this. All Izuku had to do was make this sense of normalcy last and permanently move on.
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