For One More Night to Spare With You (This is Where I'm Meant to Be; Please, Don't Leave Me)

"I've read these stories a thousand times and now I'll rewrite them all. You're meddling in an anger you can't control. She means the world to me, so hold your serpent tongue…"

('You Should Have Killed Me When You Had the Chance' by 'A Day to Remember')

"Unravel this world around me, just before it pulls me under. But now, at this rate, I fear it's too late. Give up your searching; I don't want to be found. Your gaze would haunt me…"

"I've thrown away reality and it has changed me. I'm not the same, don't call my name; don't wanna hurt you. But if you must see, look through your memory; that's where I will live on…"

('Unravel Me' English cover by 'AmaLee')

When Mikumo woke up, it felt like the whole world was shaking.

Then it stopped, all at once. He looked around in a daze, not quite all the way awake yet and finding mostly darkness anyway. He blinked quickly, trying to adjust, and largely failed. Then he turned and looked at Uraraka, and found her sleeping soundly.

She had the smallest, kindest smile on her face, stretching her soft cheeks, like she was thinking about something tiny and beautiful. He almost wanted to brush the hair out of her face but resisted. It would be impolite and, besides, she was probably absolutely exhausted; she had to have been, to have slept through that shaking.

He would let her sleep.

He leaned back against the wall and sighed. What was he supposed to do? The truth was that he'd never been particularly enthusiastic about fighting One for All, no matter who received it. He had been banking on it being Mirio Togata - that was who Sir Nighteye had pushed for it to be, he had learned in his observation efforts - who probably would have been… easier to deal with.

Perhaps. Mirio's quirk was subtly strong and he would have been dangerous on the battlefield. But, personally, he was easy to understand: his mindset was suitably similar to All Might, which was a big reason Sir Nighteye loved and respected him so much. Uraraka, by contrast, was a very different beast to deal with.

She was someone who had been born close to the bottom of their society and came out stronger for it. She was someone who cared immensely about other people, to the point of setting aside her own happiness to make others happy. She was someone who-

She was important. You needed her.

There was no pounding this time. He blinked slowly, looking around and almost expecting to find someone.

He was surprised when he did find someone: a figure standing in front of him, made of shimmering stars and the blackest night, only barely visible against the darkness of the room. She… It was a she, his mind said, but he couldn't see her features, so why did he know that? Yet he knew. She was surrounded by the thinnest halo of beautiful light and warmth and she was smiling.

He couldn't see her face, only stars, but she was smiling and it was for him. He didn't understand why this person loved him or who she was but he felt it so deep in his bones, on a metaphysical, frightening level, and he shuddered as he stared at her. He couldn't bring himself to look away.

You'll always be each other's Heroes.

He blinked and she was gone.

Uraraka stirred then and he couldn't help but think those two things were related. He turned back to look at her and was struck by how utterly normal it was, yet also completely unusual, to watch her wake up. To watch how she blinked slowly, her permanent blushmarks faded in her tiredness, but her eyes were so vivid and brown and beautiful. She pursed her lips, pink and full, and seemed to register that he was looking at her.

She smiled at him.

He wondered what it would have been like to wake up to that every single day, in a voice that didn't sound like his at all. It sounded like a man but no one he had ever heard before; yet, it also sounded like family and he wondered if-

Silence, dear Brother of mine.

-he would ever really know the truth.

"What's wrong?" Uraraka said, startling Mikumo. He looked back at her and registered the closeness and the warmth as she began to use One for All again, so he wanted to shrink away yet couldn't bear to.

"There was another shaking," Mikumo lied, because that wasn't what was wrong but it would do. "How long were we…"

He brought his hand up and his holographic watch display lit up. It was almost four in the afternoon and the outside temperature was rising at least. It was still freezing and it wouldn't get warm enough to matter before night fell but it was a tiny hope to cling to. The red of his watch display mixed with the pink fire of One for All, then he dropped his arm and only pink remained once more.

"Why didn't you just run away?" Uraraka asked, and Mikumo looked back at her and forced himself not to get distracted by how the pink fire danced in her eyes. She was now fully focused and surprisingly determined, so he felt pinned by her gaze. "You didn't have to run the League of Villains, did you?"

Mikumo cleared his throat and frowned.

"I could have changed how I look again, I suppose; changed my name and obtained false paperwork. Sometimes I used to dream of moving away, maybe to America, and starting over."

"Like All Might?" Uraraka asked, and her voice sounded tired.

"Yes… like All Might," Mikumo said with a sigh. "But it wouldn't be safe for me to be around other people. My father's vestige is relatively easier to contain as long as I'm on the path he wants me to be on. If I were to stray, though…"

You'll never escape this drumbeat, Mikumo.

Mikumo coughed into his hand to cover how he wanted to gag. Father sounded much too close that time; he needed to focus more. He looked away from Uraraka's frown and pretended to find the encroaching darkness very interesting all of a sudden.

"I have a set path now and to deviate would be dangerous. I'm… I'm dangerous, Uraraka, even to you," Mikumo settled on saying, still looking away. "This is where I am now and I can't escape because-"

"Because no one has ever protected you, like you deserve. You wouldn't be here if they did," Uraraka interrupted, and there was another sting of a phantom memory as Mikumo whipped his head back to her in curiosity and confusion. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there to protect you… Mikumo."

Mikumo huffed, not quite a laugh. He kind of wanted to be happy - and he didn't really want to correct her - but, all of a sudden, that wasn't what he wanted her to call him at all. It was better than 'Akatani,' he supposed, but he didn't want her to call him the name everyone else did. Not All for One, not Akatani, not Mikumo.

Not the names his Father set out for him but rather-

Do you miss the things you were meant to be, Izuku? The things that never were; the things I wanted so desperately for you?

Mikumo blinked and, when he turned back to Ochako, she was stunned.

"Did I… say that out loud?" He asked, baffled, not sure what else he could ask. She nodded slowly but her expression recovered. She went from surprise to just… sadness.

"Nana misses you," Ochako said matter-of-factly. Mikumo scowled, not sure how someone he had just met - someone who was dead - could already miss him. "I told you, you wouldn't believe me if I just told you the truth."

"You can't keep saying that and expect me to accept it forever," Mikumo pointed out. Ochako just laughed at him.

"Oh, trust me. I know."

He looked away, not willing to respond and not sure what he should say. Before today, he had believed he was the stranger of the two of them by far - he was All for One, after all - but now, he wasn't so sure. Or, rather, he was fairly sure he was far more strange than Ochako, personally, but One for All…

One for All was a fickle thing, he was quickly realizing.

"Do you ever think about what you'd say to Bakugou, if you could talk to him again without the fighting?" Ochako asked, and he turned back to her in disbelief.

"I'd ask him if he has any regrets. Any at all," Mikumo said shortly, and Ochako stared pensively at him for a moment, measuring his response, before she said anything.

"I suspect he does. He never talks about it - about you - but… sometimes he would cry, when he thought no one was around to hear him. Eijiro and I talked about it sometimes but Bakugou never lets anyone in."

"It's easy to mourn someone once they're already dead," Mikumo replied bitterly. "It's a lot harder to find the courage to apologize to them when they're still there."

"What would you say if he did apologize to you?" Ochako asked without hesitation, and Mikumo leaned a bit away from her to stare. He regretted it because it was cold but he still did it because her question was absurd.

"I'd say that it's too little, too late, probably," Mikumo admitted. Ochako frowned but didn't push at first. He returned to his more comfortable sitting position of leaning slightly into her and she sighed. "I always thought about what it would be like if he was still nice to me, when I was a kid," Mikumo added in a quieter voice. He glanced over from the corner of his eye and saw Ochako's frown increase. "I only ever wanted to be his friend."

"It was supposed to get better," Ochako whispered. Mikumo looked up to the ceiling but that was just black, too. Everything around them was black and dark, lightless except for the soft pink glow of Ochako's quirk.

"Is that what you saw in your dream?" Mikumo asked, taking a chance. He turned his gaze back to her and she nodded, looking away from him. She hugged her legs closer to her.

"It was supposed to get better and… you were supposed to be friends again, one day. But… you can't fix the past. You can't make it better. It already happened. All you can do is do better, moving forward."

She turned to look at him with faraway eyes and, even though the pink fire danced there, she was so sad, with glazed over, flat pupils and irises. It was like her everything had been taken away or like the sun was never going to rise again and tomorrow would never come. The thought didn't sound like his voice and he frowned at her.

"Are you talking about Katsuki… or me?" Mikumo asked cautiously.

"Both. Neither. It's complicated," she said simply. She leaned a little bit more into him and he let her. It was nice, yet he felt bad about it.

"I'm sorry," he said. He wasn't sure what he was sorry for, specifically, but it felt right to say.

There was another long silence between them, broken up only by the drip, drip, drip, the occasional crackle from the fire of One for All, or a distant bang and shaking of the earth. The blasting felt like it was getting closer, relatively speaking; like it was a slowly encroaching darkness, an encroaching finality. It was like the tick-tock of a clock chasing them down a hallway, except the hallway was a dead-end.

And he realized that it was chasing them, not him, because it felt like Ochako didn't want this moment to end anymore than he did, now. He wasn't sure what to make of that, as he stole a glance at her and saw that she was just looking at him without remorse. He flicked his gaze back away and wished he could find the right words to say once more.

"Do you believe in fate?" Ochako whispered. Mikumo cleared his throat, furrowing his brows.

"I feel like Sir Nighteye demonstrates that fate objectively exists," he replied. Ochako hummed, not quite a laugh, and leaned her head onto his shoulder.

"That's not what I asked you," she pointed out dreamily. He realized she was probably falling asleep again. One for All began to dim around her, then it died and the air got very cold.

He began to use his own heating quirks to warm up his body and the air in their immediate vicinity. It had been long enough that he figured he could manage for a while and give her a rest. Holding One for All for long periods of time, even at low intensity, must have been exhausting.

"Thank you for keeping me warm, Ochako," Mikumo whispered. Ochako hummed again and he tilted his head forward and watched her eyelids flutter. "I don't think I believe in fate but… if there is a fate, I would like to believe that, one day, it would be kind to me."

She hummed one more time and her head lolled a bit against him. She was out. He felt like he should have been embarrassed, indignant, or something at how comfortable she had become. But he just felt… pleasant and glad, despite it all. Even with how dangerous he was… she felt safe around him now.

She shouldn't have. But it was nice.

He spent some time thinking about fate, mostly for himself, and wondered what fate even really meant. Ochako had insisted that it wasn't inevitable that he ended up the way he was but he couldn't imagine what that would mean for him. He would've just been a quirkless nobody: the useless, worthless Deku that Katsuki had always insisted he was-

Useless except for the purpose that I gave you, Mikumo.

-and destined to accomplish nothing in life. He would never have lived up to the remarkable things that Ochako had done or her fellow Heroes, like Frostfire or Ingenium. They had saved so many people and he couldn't imagine himself ever doing anything productive or anything kind. That wasn't the hand he had been dealt in his life and the thought made him want to cry.

He thought about this often, in general terms. Today had thrown the thoughts into stark relief, however, and he curled in on himself and let out a shuddering breath. He didn't want to cry; he didn't want to wake Ochako. But he also didn't want to be alone.

You're not alone, Izuku. You've never been alone, even if you were too far away to hold. But now this is a chance to set things straight-

You will not interfere. The pathetic, incompetent Shimura Nana is no match for my power!

Nana? Mikumo thought, delirious. The voices were so loud, and it felt like they were shaking the fabric of reality itself, but then Nana spoke again and it was truly deafening-

The weight of my sins is immense, All for One… but the weight of yours is so much more than you could ever dream of.

Then there was silence, almost absolute silence like his reality was muffled around him, and Mikumo breathed heavily. This 'weight' that Nana spoke of felt like it was crushing him and he looked around almost in a panic, wondering if he was still awake or if he was dreaming. Or maybe the veil of reality was thin tonight and the line between wakefulness and dreaming was blurring down to ashes and dust.

He craned his neck and turned to Ochako and felt calmer as he saw how utterly at peace she looked. Her head was a smaller, almost insignificant weight on his shoulder, though it didn't feel like a weight at all.

This time, he did give in to the temptation to brush her hair out of her face, then he immediately pulled his hand away like he'd been burned. She hummed in her sleep, as if she approved, but he only felt shame.

He cared about Ochako; a great deal, in fact. He'd always been rather enamored with her, enamored with how Heroic and brave she was. He told her she was a good rival to have but that wasn't really true. He'd always wished they could have been friends… and he always did think she was beautiful. But he was the same old Deku, even as Mikumo Akatani, All for One, and the world always stood between them.

It didn't matter. He looked away before he gave into the impulse to do something foolish again.

There was another rumbling but this one was much closer and much more intense. Ochako groaned and her head rolled off of Mikumo's shoulder as he scrambled to his feet. She instinctively caught herself and he turned to see her looking up at him with confused, bleary eyes.

"It's cold… Why did you move?" She mumbled, and he couldn't stifle the smile that crossed his face.

"They're getting closer, I-"

He was cut off when there was a sharp ring, so he looked back out into the dark and watched the pipe that had been drip, drip, dripping burst open in an explosion of water. Part of the pipe went flying and clipped him in the side of his left arm and he yelped in horror and pain as he felt hot red liquid run down his arm.

"Shit, I…" He paused and looked down. It wasn't… that bad, on balance. There was a crackle of crimson and green energy as the wound closed but it left him feeling a bit woozier. Then he looked up and the real horror set in as he saw that water was rapidly running into their space. "Ochako… I think this is bad…"

He turned in time to watch her walk up to his left, holding the pipe piece that had gone flying in her hand as One for All flared around her again. There was a glint of red on the pipe, lit up by One for All, and he frowned at his own blood. She looked at him with concern and he nodded, shaking away the negative thoughts and hoping to convey with his expression that he had a plan.

"You're looking to do something really stupid, I bet." He blinked at her sheepishly. "It's all over your face. You've got the same look that Bakugou and Shouto have when they're all, 'I'm going to run off on my own now and almost get myself killed,' fucking boys."

"We need to stop the water flow," Mikumo said calmly, and Ochako scowled at him. "Unless you would like to drown to death."

"We'd freeze to death, actually," Ochako pointed out. "And you'll freeze to death if you get wet. You'll freeze fast, you know this."

"I know," Mikumo insisted. She did not look very sympathetic. "I have a plan, though."

"Is it a stupid plan?" She asked, but he knew it was a rhetorical question. He decided to answer anyway because it always annoyed her when he did that and she was cute when she pouted at him.

"You help me float up to the pipe without getting into the water, then I will fix the pipe with Overhaul. Then I float back and I won't get wet at all."

Her expression, with her brows knit tight together and her cheeks puffed out, screamed 'I do not like this plan.' He shrugged, not seeing what other choices they had. They could either wait for the chamber to flood or try and fix the problem. Besides, she could fly and he couldn't. If anyone was going to take a dive, it was him.

"That's not a good thing either," Ochako pointed out, and he realized he'd been muttering again. "I don't want you to get hurt… Do you really trust me?"

Mikumo stared at her for a moment, utterly incredulously. He was at a loss for words but the truth was that the answer to her question was 'absolutely,' yet he wasn't brave enough to tell her that truth. So he just stared at her, hoping that he looked just as helpless as he felt so she… could help him.

So someone could help him.

"I'm serious," she said. "I… I lied, earlier. When I said I hated you. I don't hate you, I… I hate what you were made into. But I care about you and I don't want you to get hurt."

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Mikumo blurted out, and he didn't quite care that he had entirely ruined it because her pout was too precious to miss out on. "Thank you. I'm serious, too. I'm also serious about this plan."

He held out his hand to her, expecting her to make him weightless. Instead, she reached out and took his hand - his left in her right, glove on gauntlet - and held on tight, as if he might disappear if she did anything else. Her gaze was intense and piercing suddenly and he found he couldn't look away. He didn't want to look away ever again, if he could help it.

"We need to survive this," she said in a low, even tone. "We need to survive and we… If we can find a way where you don't go to jail forever, we can talk and… I want to save you."

Mikumo couldn't help it: he laughed at her, a snide, barking laughter. She did not look pleased but what had just come out of her mouth was entirely too funny to take seriously.

"I didn't know comedy was a strong suit of yours," Mikumo said. She looked even less pleased at that somehow and he was only slightly mindful of how easy it would be for her to kill him. "I'm well beyond saving."

"Bullshit," Ochako said, surprising him. "Nobody is…" She closed her eyes and visibly took a deep breath through her nose. "What you've done is unforgivable and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. But that doesn't mean that you're beneath saving because no one should be beneath saving."

He stared at her for a moment, processing her words and the subtle change she'd made, knowing what it would mean to him. Her words were ridiculous - completely and utterly ridiculous - yet he was seriously considering them. He huffed out another laugh through his nose but her expression was completely straight and that almost made it even funnier.

"You really are amazing, Ochako," Mikumo mused, and he swore her permanent blushmarks got darker. "You'll have to explain to me why you think anything about me is worth saving, I'm sure that will be a thoroughly remarkable story to hear."

"I can beat your ass, if you'd prefer," Ochako said, and Mikumo paled slightly, only for a moment, before he recovered.

"I think that depends on how you mean that," he said, trying his luck. He heard her fingertips on her gauntlets retract and there was a pink glow. She looked right at him, remorselessly, as he felt his mass disappear and he only got the first syllable of an apology out before she threw him over towards the far wall. "I deserved that…" He muttered once he caught himself with his hands, and he heard her laughing at him from behind.

He tried to carefully turn and almost sent himself careening through the air instead. He blindly grabbed at the wall and succeeded in digging his fingers in to steady himself, though it hurt with how cold things were. He looked back at her, feeling absolutely helpless once again, and she just smirked at him.

"It isn't so easy, is it?" She asked from the platform, sounding like she felt precisely zero shame, and he was sufficiently cowed. Besides, the water quickly filling the lower area where the tracks were was forcing him to focus.

"I never said I thought it was…" He said, and she just laughed at him again. She tossed the pipe over and he only barely managed to catch it without sending himself flying. "I will have to remember to ask you about this later…" He added, more so for himself under his breath.

"I wouldn't mind that," Ochako said, and he glanced back at her, surprised and… warm, feeling comfortable. He smiled and she smiled, too.

Then he looked back to the broken part of the pipe, where it was leaking, and carefully shimmied over in the air. Every movement felt like he would just fly away, a shooting star without the ability to land, and he grit his teeth. It was exhilarating in a way, yet it also felt all wrong.

Part of him wondered what it would be like to have practiced this, to have fought and bled and loved and lost alongside Ochako Uraraka, the Ninth Bearer of One for All. To have experienced her quirk in battle and to be someone who mattered to her. To be-

You were important. She needed you.

He stopped when he reached the pipe, holding on to the wall and trying not to throw up. He wasn't sure if it was because hovering in the air was disorienting or because of Nana's voice right in his ears like shards of reality itself digging into his mind.

He did have a whole new respect and appreciation for astronauts, however.

He carefully placed the pipe into position, trying to minimize the spray of water. A few droplets hit him in the face and it was so cold it almost burned. Using All for One kept himself warm but he still hissed a bit and tried to focus on getting things just right. He just about had the pipe where he wanted it…

"Please be careful," Ochako said, but she wasn't that loud. He wondered if she meant for him to hear it at all. He looked over his shoulder and tried to smile and ignore how unpleasant the water hitting him was.

There was another loud boom and the whole world shook. Mikumo heard some debris dislodge itself from somewhere, probably the ceiling, and Ochako screamed. He whipped around, trying to find her - no, no, please be okay…! - then he screamed, too.

Because all of his mass came back at once and he fell fast to the floor.

There was a searing, godless pain, like wildfire in his left arm, and he screamed again with how the shockwave of the impact rocked his entire body. He felt like he was dying and his whole world spun but, as he lost consciousness, all he thought was:

Ochako, please be okay…

Please don't leave me…

Izuku is dreaming.

He's Izuku again, he realizes. Standing off to the side, he is Mikumo, wearing the costume of All for One, but in front of him is Izuku, the Izuku that never was, wearing a Hero costume. The juxtaposition is jarring, like the threads of reality beginning to unravel and fray and reform, and his head throbs even in the dream. The sky is clear but it feels like he's at the center of a tempest, an impossible storm, a hurricane bearing down on him that he can't even see, let alone fight or flee.

Something is wrong, everything is wrong, it's all wrong and off, yet not at the same time.

Little Izuku's costume is shattered, shredded, half-destroyed. Black boots ripped apart in the back, his sleeves gone and his arms covered by unusual red armor… but he still has those red shoes. His eyes are dead and blank and green and his hair is green, too, so Mikumo is in awe. He wears a tattered yellow cape, clinging to it with one hand for dear life; Mikumo doesn't remember anyone who wears a yellow cape, yet the familiarity of it hits him like a runaway train in the dream.

He is in a city - a city, so Mikumo looks around and has no idea where they are as he follows the him that never was as a ghost - and walks through an early morning sunrise. There is no one else around but there is debris, evidence of battle. A children's All Might toy, missing an arm, lays abandoned in the street. Mikumo looks around and sees a body - a young man, blood running down his arms; no, his arm because one of those is missing, too - laying on a shattered vehicle.

Scenes like this aren't unfamiliar to him. Usually, it's him creating them. Now, he watches the him who never was walk through desolation and wonders: who created this scene? Little Izuku doesn't look like a villain; he doesn't look like All for One, like Mikumo Akatani.

But he has that same sorry expression, that same emptiness, that same desire to never be seen, so that no one can see how truly broken and beaten and bruised he is. The same desire to see others be happy, so that he can feel like he accomplished something because giving others happiness is so worthwhile on its own he never thinks of his own happiness at all.

What does the happiness of a quirkless Deku mean, anyway?

But this Izuku is a Hero, isn't he? So what is his quirk? And Mikumo watches him and prays, wishing on a shooting star, that little Izuku will show him his quirk.

Tell me, please, what it's like to be a Hero, Mikumo thinks desperately, willing little Izuku to hear him.

But little Izuku doesn't hear him and Mikumo feels that crushing loneliness, the weight of reality itself crashing all around him at a single point like a meteor. He wonders if he can find the thread of hope and pull. Can he end this dream and go back to his reality, go back to Ochako and the dark hole because it is familiar? His reality is sad, broken, and off but at least it's familiar and…

The unknown is frightening and Mikumo is so tired of being afraid.

What is little Izuku running away from? Mikumo wonders as he follows along through the silent streets in this silent dream, in this ethereal quiet of true infinity. He intuitively knows that little Izuku is running - maybe not physically but, spiritually, he is running - and he wonders: is he running away from something or towards something?

Can both things be true at the same time?

And, suddenly, there are others. Other ghosts, other fragments of what was meant to be, other phantom memories haunting the dream between them. He sees Ingenium, Frostfire, and Dynamight but they are not Heroes at this moment. They wear their simple clothes, t-shirts and shorts like normal teenagers and not like warriors and Heroes holding back the dark for those who cannot hope to fight for themselves.

They reach out for Izuku and Tenya grabs Izuku's left arm, as does Shouto. Katsuki reaches further still - he was always the best, the Symbol of Victory, wasn't he? - and grabs Izuku's cape at the neck, trying so desperately to hold on, but little Izuku keeps walking. Little Eri appears and reaches for little Izuku but she misses him entirely. There's no way she can hold on to the trail of his shooting star, so he leaves her behind.

Then there is Ochako but she is in her Hero costume. Only part of it, though, or maybe it's an old costume. Mikumo's memory feels hazy and distant as he watches two realities layer over each other, colliding and unraveling at the same time, but Ochako is flying like an angel and she reaches for Izuku's head and threads her fingers through his hair and pulls.

He doesn't stop. Not even Ochako can stop him, though Mikumo feels the sorrow, the love, and the regret radiating off little Izuku in waves. He wonders if he can feel her in that moment and he wonders if he feels shame like Mikumo feels shame for him.

Little Izuku should be ashamed, running away from the people who love him. Mikumo just wants to beg him to stay.

For a metaphysical instant, the scene flickers and Ochako is Nana, desperately willing Izuku to stop and reconsider his plans to do things on his own as her white cape billows in the wind. But he doesn't stop. The dream provides that he is the boy without a fate, true infinity in the face of the endless black, and Mikumo doesn't understand.

Mikumo stops walking, the scene fading to ash and white while Tomura's ghost looms large over them as well, and watches little Izuku walk into the sunset, heedless of the ghosts at his heels. He has someone to save or, maybe, it's him who needs to be saved. Maybe both can be true.

Don't forget them, Mikumo thinks, because he knows what it's like to really be alone. He prays fervently that the him that never was doesn't still feel like that way, in the face of his friends trying so desperately to hold on to the trail of his shooting star… and failing.

But the thread of hope unravels all the same.

The scene changes, flickering, and Mikumo is disoriented.

But he is greeted with something beautiful instead of something sad.

He sees himself, little Izuku again but a bit younger than before, and he is smiling. It's such a bright and pure and kind expression and Mikumo wonders:

Was that really what I looked like? I don't remember ever smiling like that…

But the him that never was is smiling, laughing even with closed eyes as his freckled face stretches, silent in the ethereal dream. He throws his hands up in excitement at something said that Mikumo is not privy to. Even in this dream, watching himself be happy, watching himself enjoy the life that was denied to him, Mikumo is excluded.

But he isn't concerned about that because he realizes that little Izuku is wearing the uniform of UA.

He's walking down the hill, throwing his hands up in the air as he smiles, and he's got that ridiculous, awful stubby tie. The way that Mikumo used to tie it, before Kurogiri taught him how to do it properly, and this tie is crimson but his eyes and hair are green like they're supposed to be. It's like a Christmas present that Mikumo so desperately wants but he's separated from it by true infinity.

He looks around and sees Ochako, wearing her own UA uniform with her skirt and tights and her tie done properly, and she does a little fist pump and smiles so brightly at Izuku and he smiles back. Her smile is like the sun and Mikumo realizes that he's in love with her and so is little Izuku; the realization hits him so hard he almost wants to double over in pain. But he is frozen to the spot, watching the scene play out in enraptured awe.

Next to Ochako are Shouto and Tenya. Shouto puts up his left hand and makes a little flame with his finger, like a candlelight, while Tenya chops his arm theatrically and insistently at whatever Ochako is laughing at. She just laughs harder and they all look so happy that it hurts.

And suddenly, sound comes roaring back to the dream, like a bomb in Mikumo's ears, and little Izuku speaks.

"You guys are such cool Heroes. I just wanted to tell you all that I'm glad that I met you," he says. He smiles again and Ochako's blushmarks get a little darker, while Shouto and Tenya smile, too.

"You're a cool Hero, too, Deku. It wouldn't be the same without you," Ochako says, and Mikumo is stunned.

Deku.

Deku.

Deku.

But it doesn't sound like hate or anger when she says it. She sounds so happy, like he's her whole world, and he realizes: she's in love with him, too. And he wonders what else Father took away from him and what else was meant to be that's too far away to hold now. He wants to scream and cry but he's too enamored by how happy they look, so he wonders if they're still happy now.

Do they feel a hole in their lives because he isn't there? Do they miss him, without knowing they miss him? Or do they not even care; is he just a footnote in their happiness now, a what-could-have-been that is lost to time?

"You were important. They needed you."

He turns, shocked at hearing despite how the dream has gone silent again, and finds her. It is Nana Shimura, the Seventh Bearer of One for All. It must be because who else would look like an angel in the dark as the scene fades away into an endless expanse of light and stars?

Mikumo stands in this field of night, looks at Nana, and realizes that she looks like his mother.

Then he cries. He cries and cries as she walks to him and hugs him close and whispers to him and her voice is like love from within, yet it echoes off the stars like it's coming from everywhere all at once.

"They miss you, Izuku. I miss you, too. We all feel it, your being gone. I only wish you'd stay…"

There is a flicker, one that he feels more so than sees, and he looks up and finds not Nana but One for All. The First Bearer, All for One's brother and his uncle. He has feminine, soft features and white hair and he smiles kindly but distantly at Mikumo.

"Midoriya Izuku, what would you give up to stay with her?"

And One for All says 'her' but he doesn't specify if he means Ochako or Nana. And Mikumo doesn't ask because he doesn't care and he's not sure if, at this moment, that is a distinction worth making.

I would give up anything and everything, Mikumo thinks, and he means it, from the bottom of his heart, as the scene begins to fade away in white and ash. Even in this dream, he cannot escape the ghost of Tomura Shigaraki - Tenko Shimura - his stepbrother and, the dream provides, the one that Nana can never save.

But the dream asks: would Izuku still like to be saved?

And there is pain, such sharp and shattering agony in his left arm, but he smiles softly and so does One for All.

"She believes in you, you know. She's always believed in you. I'm always impressed with how hard she fights for you."

As the dream fades away, he thinks of Nana and Ochako, flickering together as one in true infinity.

He continues to smile as he does so.

Ochako remembered a stark pain in her shoulder as a rock hit her; Danger Sense had warned her as all the hair on the back of her neck stood up but she was so tired and she was too slow to dodge.

She had fallen to the ground, catching herself on her hands, but there was a shockwave up her arms and spine when she connected. Her gauntlets blunted the impact but One for All died around her as she lost focus and she looked up just in time to watch Mikumo fall. She was the one who was supposed to protect him - she was the one who was supposed to save him - and she had let him fall.

And she watched with mute horror, her hand halfway outstretched, as he hit the ground hard. The pipe fell underneath him and stabbed him right through his left shoulder in a horrifying spurt of blood. Mikumo didn't move and, for a single moment that felt like forever, Ochako was frozen.

No. Nonono…

"Izuku?" She croaked out, her throat dry like a desert. Then One for All flared and she didn't think, she just moved, because he couldn't die before she saved him. She had to save him and it had to matter because, if he fell to All for One, it would all be for nothing.

If he fell to All for One, she would be broken because he was important and-

She reached him and sucked air in through her teeth at the sight of him: costume shredded at the shoulder around the pipe, water quickly soaking through what remained, and dark crimson seeping out. The pipe hit him just so and his arm was hanging by a thread, more pipe than skin, and she winced and-

A phantom memory of Sir Nighteye, broken and dying in her arms, and she screams-

But no, Sir Nighteye wasn't dead and Mikumo couldn't die, either. He wouldn't die because she was Ochako Uraraka, the Ninth Bearer of One for All, and the most important person in her entire life told her once that it was a power meant for saving, even if it was always a sword made to destroy. And she wasn't sure if that was Nana or Izuku because the memories blended together like soup as she cradled Mikumo in her arms and prayed.

"Please… please wake up, please…" She whispered, chanting over and over, and she leaned down and touched her forehead to his. She cried, her tears falling on his face, and he wasn't moving and he wasn't breathing.

One for All flared even hotter, burning bright pink like the sun and sizzling away water and blood around them as she cradled him in her arms. He was going, going, gone and she couldn't bear the thought of a world without him when there was so much left to say. She needed to tell him the truth, all the things that were meant to be and never were and how-

She cared. She cared so much and she was so sorry and she wanted more and they could never have more if he was gone.

"Izuku… please wake up…"

She counted to keep herself sane.

1…

2…

3…

4…

5…

6…

7…

8…

9…

He took a breath, gasping for air and crying out in choked agony at the same time, so she moved her head away and smiled. Because even if he was in unfathomable pain and at the doorstep of death, that was better than dead and there was still a chance to make things right. She adjusted herself so that she was still cradling his head, his body draped over her knees, and brushed his hair out of his face.

"Izuku… Izuku, can you hear me?" She asked, and he looked at her with bleary, confused eyes. "You… You're hurt very badly. I need you to heal yourself but I don't… I don't know how you'll heal this."

She had him so that his right side was against her and, when he looked to his left, she watched his eyes bulge out of their sockets. He sucked in a breath and she cooed under her breath to him, 'don't go into shock, don't panic, please stay with me,' and he was shaking so badly and he'd lost so much blood.

She watched Izuku reach out and grip the pipe and hiss in pain, so she mumbled, 'you can do this, you can do this, I'm here,' while he stared at her and took a deep breath. She stared back, smiling and trying to be encouraging, despite how her tears fell and he looked like he was going to throw up as he whimpered. She brushed his hair again and just wanted him to know that everything would be okay because she was there, despite how much this was going to hurt.

He closed his eyes and she watched the pipe atomize.

And then so did his entire arm and he screamed and threw his head back - but her hand was there, she was there, right there with him - as it was reconfigured, shattered and reforged like a sword, overhauled back into the correct position like it was always meant to be. He screamed and screamed and Ochako lowered her head and screwed her eyes shut and cried. She cried because he was in so much pain, it wasn't just his arm, and there wasn't anything she could do but be there.

He stopped screaming slowly as he ran out of air but he was still hyperventilating as his body craved replacement oxygen. His arm and costume were back the way they should be, as if it never was off at all, yet she knew the pain remained for him. She just wrapped him up and hugged him as close as she could, cradling him and trying to protect him from the world, like he had always deserved.

"Stay with me, stay with me. Please, it's okay, it will be okay, I promise…" She said, a little louder, a little more coherently, but she knew he probably wasn't hearing anything at all as she made promises she couldn't hope to keep. She wondered if he was even here or if he was with Nana again, pulled into the dream through his pain despite being wide awake.

She wondered, what would Nana do if she were here? And Nana was there but not at the same time, so Ochako felt terribly alone.

She pulled back to look at Izuku properly, realizing that he had abruptly leveled out his breathing. He had a faraway, intense look on his face, his breathing shallow and even, and she tilted her head in confusion and concern. Ochako gasped sharply when his entire eyes turned pitch black, like they had filled with ink. She realized that he was losing, he was losing his internal battle with All for One right in front of her and all she was doing was watching.

"No… no, stop. Stop," Ochako said, as if she could stop him with just her words. "Stop, god damn you! Give him back!"

Izuku closed his eyes, and Ochako watched tears roll down his face.

And then, Izuku was gone.

She knew it was futile, that there was nothing to be done as she watched him fade away. One for All, the First Bearer, dared to speak to her then.

It's too late, Uraraka Ochako-

"Be quiet," Ochako said with a shocking purity of focus, and she realized that she never wanted to let go.

She never wanted to watch Izuku walk away again because seeing it in the dreams already tore her heart out again and again. She couldn't bear the thought that he'd been in her arms and she still let him slip away; she couldn't bear that thought that again, she had been too slow, even if those memories never happened at the same time. And she felt the Bearers protesting-

Do not do this. You are the Ninth now, you have a duty.

The Second and Third.

You know this won't end well for you. Please, think this through.

The Fourth and Fifth.

Please, be careful…

The Sixth.

Uraraka Ochako, you know that you will fail without his help. His will is not strong enough alone now and you both will be consumed by the power of All for One.

One for All.

Ochako… I believe in you. One for All was always a sword. A blade forged by a tyrant madman, meant to destroy. The question has always been in how you wield the sword, not whether a sword was forged to kill.

But little Izuku… He was the one who taught us that it could be a power made for saving, too…

Nana.

Ochako made up her mind. She was never letting go. She would not lose him again.

She was done running away.

She touched her forehead to Izuku's again, crying and smiling and not sure what was up or down or right from wrong anymore, but she resolved that this was what a Hero would do. She cradled the back of his head and cried, her tears hitting his cheeks, and she wasn't sure what else to say so she said the truth.

"I love you," she whispered, thinking of both Izuku and Nana together. "Please… I'll come for you. Don't give up hope yet."

And then her world went black as she was pulled into the dream of One for All with All for One.