Countdown to reality
1. Many thanks to all for reading the first chapter of this story! (- I am blushing slightly right now).
2. Special thanks for the first review I ever received!
3. Last but not least… Have fun reading!
Day 1. Morning. Countdown: 29:18:10
It. Was. Not. A. Prank.
Izuku had googled "U.A.", "All Might", "Eraser-Head", "Endeavor", and finally "Heroes". Internet answered by giving him the least satisfying response ever: None.
It was also too real to be a nightmare.
Internet was at least as kind as to provide some answers. Answers he would have preferred not to have. This place seemed to be a living hell for people with Quirks. They were not considered as regular citizens and there was a never-ending list of laws applying to them that Izuku had abandoned reading.
Heroes were not real, and Villains neither. There was just the police and the government.
Izuku was walking on the sidewalk, trying to process everything while pretending he knew who he was walking with. The girl had not yet noticed he had no memories of her, but he was afraid it was only a matter of time before she did.
She was speaking about tests, classmates, teachers, places and events that never happened. He was trying to give her brief, monosyllabic answers each time it was too awkward to stay silent, but that strategy could not work forever.
He had to find a way not to speak to her for the day. Until he knew what was happening to him and the world.
"Izuku… is it the test?"
"…sorry?" He said, having not listened to her for at least two minutes straight.
"…The test. Is it the history test that's stressing you so much?"
"…s-stressing m-me?"
She shared a shy and nice smile with him, the kind that reminded him of Uraraka's smile. She gently put a hand on his shoulder. Izuku's cheeks suddenly burned hard and he felt his body stiffen.
"It's okay, you always get top marks."
"I…do?"
She rolled her eyes, almost annoyed. "Of course you do, silly. Who else do you think could be the best of the school if not you?" She asked, and Izuku noncommittally shrugged. The girl smiled again to encourage him. "So, will we share that lunch?"
"I-I…"
"I knew you'd say yes! Let's say 12:05 on the bench by the basketball field. The bench that's by the fence."
Izuku had no time tell her he would rather spend that time alone. They had arrived at the entrance of a high school he had never seen before and three other kids he had also never met before suddenly surrounded him. They all looked perfectly Quirkless, as did Sumire-san.
No sign of Quirks, only black hair, black eyes, Japanese features. This left a sour taste on his tongue.
"Hey, Midoriya! Still hanging with the girl?"
"Midoriya, have you seen my dad on the news?! Did he look cool?"
"Hey guys, we're going to be late."
These people were convinced they were his friends. Izuku followed them, blankly looking around. These people were not his real friends.
His real friends were nowhere to be seen, and his denial phase was slowly ending. His real friends could never fit in this high school. His real friends, his family, everyone he knew before would not fit.
He was actually the only Quirkless person he had ever known… so what was happening to all the people he knew from before?
What was happening to Kacchan?
"…Shit." He said aloud, his hands squeezing his phone almost a little too hard.
All of his fake friends turned around.
Apparently, Izuku saying swear words on a regular basis was not supposed to happen in this place either.
(He could not bring himself to say world yet.
Place would do just fine for now. He would change it when he would have the confirmation that he was not having the worst vivid hallucination ever).
That being said, whoever these people thought the Midoriya Izuku of this place was, he was not supposed to be rude. He was also supposed to be atop of his class and was probably known as a Quirkless nobody.
The problem was, that was all Izuku knew about himself in this place. He stared blankly at the teacher, at his new comrades and wondered how he was going to survive the day.
He had never been that good at lying, and even if he was growing better at hiding secrets, he was far from being an expert.
He needed to check on his real friends, but maybe his real friends were not his friends in this place, and that would be only logical. He had met his friends – Apart from Kacchan – at U.A., but there was no U.A., so how was he supposed to have met them? Just thinking about it was giving him a headache.
Kacchan repeated attempts in calling him made it clear they knew each other in this place, but maybe this was only him he knew from the U.A. students.
What if Kacchan was different in this place?
What if Kacchan did not remember U.A.? What if Kacchan thought this…place was the real world? Even with the numerous texts sounding very much Bakugo-like, Izuku could not just brush away this terrifying possibility.
He could be the only one knowing there was something horribly wrong, but then it was not explaining how it happened nor why.
Izuku had strictly no idea what was the teacher talking about, and would not have been able to explain how he had found where to sit. He did not even touch his pencil and notebook. He simply stared blankly at the board.
He was thinking about skipping class – why had he even bothered coming? – and calling Kacchan's father as many times as needed until he would answer.
Kacchan from this place maybe needed his help, and whatever problem he had, it could be serious, and a serious problem in this place might be a really serious one… Izuku tried to breathe a little more slowly. People were starting to stare.
Kacchan was strong and smart. He could take care of himself.
Whatever world they were in.
His Quirk was also not hard to hide. He had red eyes, and that was definitely something that would stand out in this Quirkless universe, but wearing lens could not be that hard…. Well, that was only if Kacchan could accept the concept of hiding… not a given.
Izuku winced. Kacchan would never accept an idea such as hiding.
Half his class could also not pass for Quirkless as easily as Kacchan.
Ashido had pink skin, horns and everything. Koda's face shape was triangular at best. Sero's elbows stood out. Tsu-Chan was Froppy from head to toes. Iida had engines in his legs. Jirou's ears were jacks. Hagakure was invisible. Mineta had grape on his head. Ojiro had a tail. Tokoyami was half a bird. Shoji had six arms … how could he hide that?
The others could probably pass. Yaoyorozu and Sato just needed to refrain from using their Quirks. Uraraka could probably wear gloves and pass as normal. Kaminari and Todoroki just needed to dye their hair and Kirishima just needed to…. actually stop dyeing it, and stop smiling. His tooth were a little too sharp.
What about their parents? Their relatives? Kacchan's parents? Izuku's mum?
"Midoriya," The teacher called and Izuku almost fall off his chair.
"Y…yes?"
"You should focus on the test."
"T-the T-T-test…?"
"Yes. You only have one hour."
Izuku stared at the blank sheet of his exam paper, and took a pencil, wrote his name slowly before putting the pencil down.
This was obviously a modern history test, and this place seemed to have a very different modern history. He read the questions slowly. Once, twice, and did not even bother reaching again for a pen.
"At which date were the first Quirks discovered and why did it have an immediate impact on society?"
"Please explain the first Quirk-restrictions main laws in Japan, and why you think it needed adjustment later on?"
"State 4 countries with different approach. Please explain what are the benefits and difficulties raised by such systems."
"Take two historical events to illustrate the fact that Quirks were used to destabilize governments in the past century."
"Bonus: Write twenty lines on legal Quirk utilization at the time of the first Quirk-restriction laws."
He needed to find his real friends, check on his mother, and speak with Kacchan. He was done with this stupid act. He rose from his desk, his blank test paper in one hand.
Yaoyorozu Momo was a lucky girl. In every possible life or universe, she was, this was about karma.
She was smart, nice, beautiful and rich. She had loving parents, nice friends, and the perfect life one could dream to live.
When Yaoyorozu woke up that day, it took her twenty-six whole minutes and thirty-two seconds to understand how wrong the situation was. This was looking like her room, like her house, and these people were looking like her servants and her parents. Only that they were not.
She knew her room dimensions, her house settings, her servant's names, her parent's behaviors on the back of her hand. This room was a little wider, and the color of the lavender curtains a shade too dark. Her house was normally oriented to face the sunset, and it was not perfectly aligned with the West any longer. Her servants were kind people with Quirks she was used to, but these ones were different Quirkless people.
Her parent's personalities were also different in a way that was scaring her.
Yaoyorozu Momo did nothing. She ate her breakfast, smiled nicely and answered questions with honest sentences. She wished a good day to her new parents, and headed back to her new room without departing from her relaxed stance.
She closed the door.
Her first reflex was to call the school.
She got no answer and the emergency line did not even exist anymore.
She tried to email Aizawa and Iida next – as he was class representative – but both emails returned to her.
She then typed on her computer "U.A." to check if there was anything on the news. Her next move would have been to call the police if she had not checked the same interview as Izuku. That was when Yaoyorozu Momo understood the something that had had happened was not a joking matter.
There were high chances this was perfectly real – physical laws still worked perfectly fine – and there was even higher chances than the switch between this day and the previous one was due to someone's Quirk, presumably a villain.
Fighting villains was not something she was ready to do just yet, but it was something she had prepared for. After a short – very short – panic attack, she rose to her feet, requested not to be bothered and sat behind her computer.
Gathering data was the first step in any operation.
She made a small notepad out of her own arm, and thinking about how Midoriya was organizing his thoughts, she started writing. She explored the day's news, the laws, and the political parties in place. She went back in time, checking where and when the situation had degenerated. Every new answer had her put her pencil down and breath.
After a few hours of intense research, she closed her laptop. There were many topics left to check and study, but what she had discovered was too much to take in at once. She needed a break and she needed to understand where she stood.
Her Quirk was definitely classified as dangerous one (There were categories on the government official website and the best category for her was "Has the ability to create, produce, participate in creating body parts, biological phenomenons, or items that could directly or indirectly be used as weapons.") but her Quirk was also not hard at all to hide, and apparently, that was exactly what she was doing.
She rummaged through her room, finding her papers, which firmly stated she was Quirkless. She could also put her hand on a false toes-test result. Yaoyorozu was able to create things, after all.
She obviously had created these.
The Yaoyorozu she was supposed to be in this reality seemed to be a smart, talented one.
She felt a wave of relief wash over her as she realized she was still free to move around, and that she could try to do something about the whole situation.
She could be herself.
She could be a hero.
Bakugo Katsuki was currently doing the exact same thing as Yaoyorozu – with a lot less methodology and a lot more destroying things around – . He was rummaging through his belongings, in this shithole that his parents dared to call a room.
It was a fucking cell, not a room.
He was trying to put two and two together, and he had little options to do so. Aizawa had not answered his calls. All Might line was nonexistent. U.A. even more so. Kirishima voice mail had welcomed him with a "I'm Nooot available Now, man!". Even DEKU had ignored his fucking repeated messages.
These were the only phone numbers he actually remembered, and he had not been able to try anyone else.
His dad had been horrified when he realized Katsuki had called real people, and had snatched the phone back, swearing so much and so much. Too Fucking much. Of course he would call real people, what had this stupid old man thought?!
Katsuki still had time to check the internet before it happened, and what he had discovered was incomprehensible. However, he had little time to check for details, and since his dad had taken his phone back, he had no access to information anymore. His parents had dragged him back to the shithole, claiming this was for his fucking protection – the words hurt just to think about them – and he was currently cut off from the rest of the world.
He wanted to explode something. Anything. His parents. Or anything else, really.
Which was definitely not the smartest course of action, even more so if what he had seen on the internet was true. He punched the wall, scratching his fingers on the concrete.
"FUCK!" He screamed, before starting to throw havoc in his cell.
He opened the desk drawers, flipped the books, the papers, the postcards from his parents. With each word he read, his throat tightened more and more.
There was a calendar above the desk, with the days crossed. Some of them had a few words written on it. "Kitchen", "Garden!", "Movie in the living room", as if he only left the shithole on rare, precious occasions. Bakugo pull it off the wall, his hands shaking and dangerously sweating. He slowly went further in time, reading terrible words. "1h computer day!", "Kitchen with dad : )", "Death anniversary".
"…what?"
This was his fucking birthday, so why was it written "Death Anniversary" on the fucking calendar? Bakugo slammed it on the desk, and processed tearing the postcards off the wall.
"Postcard to ourselves as always!" His mom wrote. "We've been to Canada! Such a lovely place, I hope we can remember it forever! Ice, snow are so shiny, but the cold is incredible too! XOXO".
All of the postcards were the same. Bakugo continued with the pictures, and checked the back. Most of them had short comments. "Dad & Mom in Toronto". "Dad & Mom in Polynesia". "Dad & Mom in Paris."
He was locked there all time while his parents where constantly traveling? How fucked up was that?
Then only did Bakugo took pictures of Deku off the wall.
"Midoriya & I. Hope he remembers me. Hope I could tell him I am not dead. Hope we could still be friends. I wonder what he would think of my Quirk, Mom says he is a nice person now. He probably would not sell me off.
I miss that.
A friend like him".
The picture exploded to pieces.
Bakugo felt hot, pure rage submerge him. The world was seriously wronged up.
When he would catch the motherfucker who had switched Japan to that ridiculous place, he would send him to space!
The world wanting him to be that? A looser, a coward hiding in a shithole and sobbing over childhood pictures while apparently being officially dead? Well, fuck that! He was the future number one, and nothing could ever change that.
Without taking the time to think it through, he headed back to the kitchen.
It was now daytime, and even if Bakugo was more enraged than he had ever been, he avoided making noise, especially explosive ones. Slowly, he explored his own house, carefully checking every nook.
The kitchen and living room were as he had always known. The only difference he noticed was that pictures now only displayed his parents, and there was just one picture of his baby-self, with a black frame.
There were flowers and incense sticks in front.
Bakugo wept his hands on his pants once again, and then put them in his pockets, not wanting his emotions to suddenly spark more explosions.
His parents were faking his death, apparently because of his Quirk.
Fuck. He did not want to explore his own feelings about that. Not right there and not ever.
Bakugo then went to the rooms, finding his parents' empty, the two fuckers had gone out, probably working.
His room, his real room, (not the basement cell he was not living in, whatever his parents arguments were), had been transformed into an office. There were two desks, shelves, papers, and a printer. He slammed violently the door.
He needed air.
He needed to see the world, to ensure this was not just a nightmare.
Bakugo headed to the front door. It was locked, and this time, no key was left on display. He growled, his patience starting to reach a breaking point. This was Not going to stop him. He was not a coward, and he was definitely going outside that house.
There were also no shoes for him in the shoe rack.
"Of fucking course!" He screamed.
No shoes was not going to stop him.
A lot more was needed to stop Bakugo Katsuki from doing something he had his mind set on.
Wearing his father shoes, his mom's dark hoodie – because he could not find one that was his either – Bakugo Katsuki opened a window and leaped outside the house.
The street was completely empty, which was actually a good thing, because he did not want anyone thinking he was a thief or some other shit.
Hands tucked in his pockets, he headed to a more populated area, wanting to check the situation with his own eyes.
The first minutes of walking were actually nice. It was a beautiful day, and breathing some fresh air after the basement-treatment was calming. Bakugo headed towards a 7/11, and using his mom money – He had found it in the office – bought a sandwich, and a newspaper. The vendor gave him a weird look, but Bakugo glared back harder and the man diverted his eyes.
He had done nothing wrong, so he had no reason to act as if he did.
Bakugo had never bought newspaper before – this shit was for elderly only – but it was a lot cheaper than a new phone. He sat in the 7/11, eating his lunch and reading, his brow frowning more and more with each passing second.
The headlines were about some stupid political drama, but the articles inside spoke about operations to arrest Quirked people, and how they were more and more efficient. Bakugo glared again at the vendor, just in case he was looking his way, and then read more.
When he finished reading, he tugged the paper in a bin, shoved his hands in his pocket and headed outside. What he had learned on the internet seemed to become truer with each passing minute. People like him had now a rough life and needed to be extra-careful if they wanted to remain alive and free.
Free. Bakugo understood that he was not supposed to be free. Not in this… in this… world? Reality? Nightmare? Quirked-induce-reverse-utopia?
Not in this Fucking shit.
He was dead to the world, hidden, with no friends, nothing but his miserable life. No need to say the scenario was not pleasing.
Strolling the streets, he could not help up notice many places needed ID cards to simply go in – which a dead person did not have – and that nobody displayed Quirks. It felt like being thrown into a picture of the past, before Quirks appeared…. When Japan was a place with most people looking human and having regular Asian features. He tugged on his hoodie, feeling his hair was standing out more than it should.
He felt as if he did not belong.
He hated it.
Bakugo took in a deep breath. He was fucking going to change back the world, to belong in the meanwhile, and not to hide like a rabbit in a fucking hole. He needed to shake his parents a little, to grab some fucking papers, to buy shoes his size and to find the fucker responsible for this shit.
Everything without being caught by the government who seemed very adamant in saying that nitroglycerin was a dangerous thing.
As if.
First, though, he needed to find Deku. If there was one Quirk in the world capable of messing up things this much, there were high chances it had some sort of link with the little fucker.
Midoriya Inko never liked the anti-Quirked policies. She had made sure her son understood Quirked people were human beings before being monsters and even if she had never actively acted for the cause, she was always voting against new restrictions.
Midoriya Inko herself had no powers, no magic Quirk, nothing much extraordinary. She had a fair job, nice neighbors, a lovely son, a few friends, and she was asking for nothing more.
She decided to start preparing her own lunch. This was her day off, and she wanted to have the afternoon to take some time to herself.
She was about to go in the kitchen when she heard a very unusual noise, a loud "pop" followed by something broken and a whispered curse. She stopped moving, hearing a window openning and some soft steps hitting the floor in the kitchen.
Somebody was breaking in her house.
Inko had a few moments of utter fear, before grabbing the first heavy thing she found: the DVD player by the TV. She bravely headed towards the source of the noise. She hid behind the door, her heart beating fast.
The intruder was now coming towards her. Inko held the DVD player tight, preparing to slam it on the thief's head as hard as she could.
He pushed the door, and she screamed, bringing her improvised weapon down. There was a louder popping noise, a flash of light, the smell of ashes, and the scorched player was sent flying. It hit the wall and broke to fuming pieces.
"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!" A blond teen, explosive hands at the ready, screamed to her face. "What the fucking hell was this for?"
She could not answer.
She knew this face.
A ghost. That was the only plausible explanation.
Inko fainted.