Izuku opened his eyes, then immediately regretted it. A ray of the sun struck him directly in the face. He groaned. Though he tried to move away from the painful light, muscular arms locked around his body and held him in place. They tightened painfully at the first sign of resistance.
Groggily, Izuku became aware of half a dozen people surrounding him, so close that he could smell their sweat. They wore full body black robes with mesh concealing their faces. Izuku had been changed into velvet pants in ornate Medieval European style, with a green hooded cloak. Golden embroidery ran down the collar and sleeves.
A breeze carried the scent of flowers and blood. The forest clearing was surrounded by stones that imitated a miniature Stonehenge. Each had a garland of flowers on top. If that golden throne was real, it must be worth a fortune. The stone altar in the middle held a collection of knives, some of them wet with fresh blood.
Even with his mind bleary, unable to remember how he'd gotten here, Izuku reacted to the bad cult vibes. He dug his nails into the hand holding him. The cultist yelped, then punched him in the stomach. Izuku's strangled cry cut off as the wind left his body.
"Be gentle with my vessel," someone said. That sickly sweet voice brought back hazy memories to Izuku. A needle in his neck, a bumpy car ride, and a madman's ranting. He'd been kidnapped.
In response to the threat lurking behind the gentle order, the hands holding Izuku loosened. This was his opportunity. Izuku wrenched off the arms. Dropping low, he darted between two robed figures. If only he could make it to the cover of the trees, he'd be able to hide. Alarmed shouts came from behind him, then footsteps. He knew better than to look over his shoulder. He ran faster.
A blur shot forward. A giant man with yellow hair tufts picked Izuku up, lifting him by his collar like a kitten. "Not quite so gentle that you let him escape." The giant chuckled, a mocking glint in his blue eyes. Izuku squirmed and kicked, but to no avail. His feet bounced off the thick muscles. The giant dwarfed even Izuku's own father.
"I apologize, Oh Great First and Only Demon King." The cultist who'd lost his grip on Izuku knelt down and put his forehead to the ground.
Izuku remembered who had captured him, now. Toshinori Yagi's horribly smiling face had been frequently shown on the news around Japan before his capture by the Greatest Hero All for One. Except according to his father, this man was not the real Toshinori Yagi. His body had been possessed by Izuku's uncle long ago. Izuku did not know his uncle's name. It would wrong the real Toshinori to call the body thief by his name. Nor did he acknowledge this monster as his uncle. Izuku decided to think of his kidnapper as "First" like the cultist had called him.
"Oh, you're sorry?" First laughed as he toed his kneeling follower. "Just one finger, then."
Without hesitation, the cultists leapt. Several held their comrade in place while another took a knife from the altar and brought it down on his ring finger. A spurt of blood sprayed across the closest stone.
"Are you insane?" Izuku screamed, thrashing.
"You're squeamish. Just like your father." First ran his free hand through Izuku's curls with chilling presumption. "How cute."
The maimed cultist bowed and thanked First for his mercy as he skuttled backward.
First set Izuku down. "Do not let our little rabbit run this time," he ordered.
Four cultists grabbed Izuku, each one seizing a different limb. All of them were missing at least one finger and several had prosthetic limbs. Both flesh and metal gripped him with bruising force.
Izuku still felt nauseous from the drugs. Bile rose up in his throat. He tried to fight back, but each movement only made him more dizzy. With four grown adults holding him, he could barely move. The forest spun.
"Tie my old vessel down." As he spoke, First lay down on his back on the stone altar. If the knives lying near his neck bothered him, he certainly didn't show it. His maniac grin remained fixed in place. Two cultists fastened their master's arms and legs using metal straps screwed into the granite. Izuku didn't understand why. Such bonds couldn't hold the legendary All Smite. Why would First tie his own stolen body down? What was the point to this theater? A nagging suspicious itched in the back of his mind, but he felt too sick to articulate it.
"Place a white garland on the sacrifice's head," First ordered. "Yellow, for his hair." A cultist removed a garland of daffodils from a stone and placed it over the blond hair tufts. Blood from his severed finger dripped onto the petals.
Izuku's horrific suspicion fought its way to the forefront of his spinning mind and screamed for him to run. He tried, but the cultists held him down and forced him to kneel before the altar.
"Cut me," First said.
A silver knife flashed through the air. Blood dripped from First's bound arm. To Izuku's horror, his mouth was shoved directly on top of the open wound. He tried not to swallow, both from disgust and an instinct of the danger. But they pressed his face tightly until he couldn't breathe. Just before he passed out, the blood slipped down his throat.
Blessedly, they let him lift his head and taste oxygen. He gasped, sucking in breaths.
First smiled, a madman imitating a benevolent priest. "The pain will be over soon, dear nephew. Then we'll never be apart again."
Izuku did not like the sound of that. He tried to remember his hostage negotiation reading. But as he opened his mouth to speak, the cultists hauled him up. Dizziness made him nearly throw up again. He tried to kick backward.
But his arms and legs tingled so badly that he couldn't move. He screamed as the tingling turned into a burning pain. It spread to his head and drilled inside.
The cultists hummed in unison, a deep maddening chorus like an executioner's bell. Izuku screamed. The sound cut off abruptly even as he kept screaming inside his head.
Izuku's own lips spoke without his consent. "Release me. The sacred ritual is done."
The cultists raised their hands and stepped backward. As one, they all fell on their faces in worship.
Izuku was free, but he could no longer move. He could only stare at the forest with longing.
"Ah, youth. Such a relief, to have a flexible and pain-free body again." His hand felt his face. "I'm adorable. No wonder big brother replaced me with this cutie. I almost can't blame him. Almost."
Izuku had never known it was possible to hate being touched by his own hand so much.
With a hideous groan, the giant man on the altar deflated. Izuku stared down at the same skeletal man who he'd tried to help. This frail invalid must be the form of the unstoppable All Smite without his quirk.
"Crown me," First-using-Izuku's-voice ordered.
A cultist placed a gold circlet on Izuku's head. Another handed him a jagged dagger, this one clean and sharp. Horror welled up inside him.
Against his will, his legs walked over to the altar. First said, "You were a good vessel. Thank you for your service. Now, you'll forever live on inside of me. Immortality, a reward for your sacrifice."
The cultists started humming again.
The gaunt man locked eyes with Izuku. Pain and sadness filled his gaze. He mouthed, "I'm sorry."
Izuku's hand shot down and stabbed Toshinori Yagi through the heart.
Izuku screamed, but the only sound that came from his lips was a faint hmm of satisfaction. A cultist held up his cloak to prevent the blood drops from hitting his master.
A smile twisted Izuku's lips. It made the real him, locked away inside his own body, feel sick.
First licked the blood off his dagger. "The lifeblood of a vessel tastes different. This one, who I lived in for so long, is special to me. I claimed his life, and now I've claimed his death." The horror of the taste on his tongue nearly made Izuku pass out, except he couldn't. First continued, "Take his heart and preserve it with the others."
Izuku did not have the ability to turn his head away as the cultists cut out Toshinori Yagi's heart and placed it in a box.
"Leave me," First said, "I'll confront my brother alone."
Izuku knew how his body could be used against his father. He screamed in despair. Threats and pleas struggled to emerge from his silenced lips.
The monster laughed. First heard Izuku's screams, and they amused him. Izuku burned with helpless fury.
No more screaming. This monster wouldn't listen to him. He had to fight. Izuku strained every muscle in his body. But it was no longer his body. He had no more control than he would over a character in a movie he was watching. He felt no connection to his arms and legs. He floated like a balloon tethered loosely. The more he struggled, the more he stopped getting glimpses from his eyes, instead falling through darkness. He clung to the last bit of dimming light with all his power. If he lost his last connection to his body, he did not know what would happen to him.
His body casually seated itself on the golden throne before the bloodstained altar. The reek of blood was dizzying. He sagged. His head lolled. His arms hung limp. For a second, Izuku dared hope that his captor felt dizzy, too. But the feeling of smugness from First was overwhelming. First was faking it.
Which meant an audience must be approaching. Izuku had not known it was possible to become more afraid.
Hisashi Shigaraki burst into the clearing, fists raised. Red light crackled around him. As First pushed back his hood, the determination in Hisashi's eyes changed to horror.
"Hello, big brother," First said.
"I'll never forgive you," Hisashi hissed.
"That's what you say every time we meet." First sighed. "Can't you come up with something new? At least I have new tricks. I went to all the trouble of stealing your son's body just to obtain your full attention."
Hisashi growled, "If you want my attention, then I'll visit you in jail. I'll visit every day if you let Izuku go. But if you don't, then this time, you're dead."
"Dead literally? Do you not care about this boy after all? I suppose he must have only been a distraction." First sounded quite pleased.
"I'll find a way to get you out of him, you damn parasite!" Hisashi's voice rose. "Izuku, can you hear me? I'll find a way to set you free. I can find a quirk for anything. I'll save you. I promise."
Izuku heard the lack of confidence in his father's voice, and it terrified him. All for One was always the hero with the plan. He would handle every hostage situation with no causalities. He would save every civilian caught in the line of fire. He had a clever trick for every villain. But now his trademark smirk had fallen off his face.
"Dad?" Izuku's voice whispered. He slumped forward, clutching his head. "I-I'm trying to fight him. Help me. Please."
But it wasn't Izuku. It was First. Izuku begged for his father to notice.
Hisashi reached forward. "I'm here, son. Focus on my voice. You can drive him out."
As soon as Hisashi stepped into range, First lunged, a hypodermic needle shooting from his cloak sleeve.
Hisashi knocked the needle to the dirt with blast of air, then pinned Izuku's body to the throne with glowing threads. Coldly, he said, "Your acting is as melodramatic as ever, little brother. My son doesn't beg for help. He's the type who keeps his feelings and fears to himself until it frustrates me."
Hell yeah, Izuku thought, then, That last part was an exaggeration, though. I'm not that bad.
First's high, cold laugh sounded nothing like Izuku. "Caught me, big brother. How nice, for you to embrace me with your quirk. But can you hold me?"
The threads burst off. First stretched his arms over his head. "This is a good body. Even better than my last one. It can handle multiple quirks. Must be because of your genetics. You created the perfect vessel for me. At least something good came out of your failed experiment playing family, big brother."
"Don't you dare call him that," Hisashi snarled. "Izuku is the best thing that ever happened to me. He's worth more than both of us. He has the true spirit of heroism that I could only ever imitate in a vain attempt to be a good example for you. He'll surpass me someday."
First's smile froze. "I don't want to talk about my nephew. And I don't like it when you praise other people in front of me."
Before Hisashi's horrified eyes, a black whip exploded from Izuku's arm. He floated off the throne, eyes glowing.
First flexed Izuku's arm, the tentacle waving. "A wonderful body indeed. This will be a much fairer fight now we both have multiple quirks, big brother. Especially because you can't hurt this body. Maybe it's finally my turn to win."
Izuku screamed, He's bluffing! He's still tired from the transfer. He can't yet completely control the quirks. I can feel it. He'll try to run. Stop him! This is your last chance before he fully comes into his power! Do whatever it takes! Please, I don't want him to use my body to hurt people!
A thought from First came in response, the first time he'd acknowledged the boy whose body he'd stolen: How smart you are. It runs in our family. I'll enjoy talking with you more later. But I can't afford the distraction right now. This is my private time with big brother. Go away.
Vertigo consumed Izuku. He clung to his last scrap of vision. But the world still went dark. Phantom tears of despair filled his eyes.
Then, suddenly, he had a body to cry them. He stood in a misty world covered in shadows. The steel wall and door appeared to be part of a giant bank vault. Eight people sat on golden thrones. It took Izuku a moment to recognize the sixteen-year-old boy wearing a school uniform as a young Toshinori Yagi.
Izuku leapt backward, raising his firsts by reflex. Then he felt guilty, seeing young Toshinori's face fall. This wasn't First. This was another innocent victim. Judging from his clothing, he'd been not much older than Izuku when he'd been taken by First. Izuku felt sorry for how his own hand had murdered someone who'd never even gotten a chance to live.
A tall woman with black hair stepped forward. "I'm so sorry for what has happened to you."
Tears streamed openly down Izuku's cheeks, but they didn't stop him from thinking and planning. "Can you help me? Please. I can't let that monster use me against my father."
The woman shook her head. "We've never been able to do anything against him. Trust me, we've tried. I don't want to give you false hope."
Izuku's tears kept falling. He mopped them off and concentrated. "He's never used any of your quirks before?"
"No," she said uncertainly, offering her arms to him for a hug.
But Izuku had no time for comfort. Not when his father must be fighting right now. "Quirks contain parts of the user's mind. That could become your first ever window to take back control. Even one second could let my father win. If I come up with a plan, will you help me?"
Her eyes blazed. "I speak for all of us. We all hate him. We'll help you."
OMAKE TIME!
Omake: Idol Swap
Hisashi: Did you build a throne from gold to resemble the Demon King's throne from Captain Hero?
First: How would you know? Despite claiming to be a Captain Hero fan, you never even finished the manga. You missed the nonsensical ending where Captain Hero defeated the Demon King by pulling a deus ex machina out of his ass. But I'll rewrite the ending of the story!
Hisashi: Couldn't you have stuck to fanfiction, little brother? Also, gold is too soft a material to use in real life. Your throne has dents all over it.
First: Always a critic. Just like when you said my fanfiction lacked tension and made the Demon King too OP. Then you called it a childish effort and told me to cut all my wonderful similes because they were supposedly too dramatic!
Hisashi: I've apologized for that a million times. I didn't realize that you weren't accepting constructive criticism. But I think that becoming a serial killer was an overreaction.
First: Fanfic writers everywhere disagree!
#
Omake: Nothing Else to Do Except Watch First Kill People
Nana: Welcome to the Void! We have all prepared a PowerPoint presentation for our latest fellow victim on the bullshit that is having your body stolen by a bro-con maniac. It has five hundred slides.
Izuku: Uh…
Nana: We all have way too much time on our hands.
#
Omake: A Visit to the All for Ones Club
Hero for One: Stop, before you throw me out, I have an offer. Does anyone want to trade little brothers? I'm sure you all want a villain version.
All for One: Uh, actually, when I wanted my little brother to join me, I was picturing him more as a frail, sickly brother who stayed at home but cheered on my world domination ambitions. Not so much a competitor who's crazier than me, has minions more loyal than mine, and looks better in at trench coat than me.
Hero for One: You're jealous!
All for One: I'm not jealous, just considering the age-old problem that there can only be one demon king.
Evil First: My minions love me more because I have better hair than you.
All for One: See, that's the kind of sass I was hoping to avoid with my ideal little brother.
Hero for One: You don't want him? Fine, let's go home.
All for One: I never said I wouldn't take him off your hands. Just that you should downgrade your expectations about how much I'm willing to pay.
Evil First: He got me to come here by promising that I could kidnap and/or possess an alternate big brother.
Hero for One: I'll leave you two alone so you can sort out who vaults who. Bye!
Author's Note: Aracne_web/not-someone-who-matters drew more beautiful fanart for this fic! The wonderful picture inspired me to write a second chapter to this story showing the body possession scene from Izuku's point of view. I love the vivid colors, the glowing eyes, the lovely outfit, and the creepiness of puppeteer First. Thank you for the inspiration! Delete the spaces to get the link:
not-someone-who-matters.
tumblr.
com/
post/679841248641695744/coronation-chapter-1-katydid
The first piece of fanart is at:
not-someone-who-matters.
tumblr.
com/
post/658914363998191616/fanart-inspired-by-katydids-coronation-fic-go
If you want proof that Yoichi does look better as a villain than All for One, then I direct you to this wonderful drawing by dookoa:
dookoa.
tumblr.
com/
post/678621059338108928/yoichi-in-afos-clothes-bonus