Countdown to Reality
1. Thank you for reading! It gives me energy to continue writing : )
2. That's all !
Day 2. Late morning. Countdown 24: 11: 15
Kirishima Eijiro slowly opened his eyes.
At least the world was not spinning anymore and the lights were not flickering. It was still very blurry, and he was barely making out shapes and colors.
Never again.
He was never taking any sort of unknown pills ever again. Whatever the reason.
Not moving from his bed – That was his bed, from his new room… right? – , he looked at his hands and tried hardening them. Nothing happened beside his vision remaining all fuzzy and foggy.
Great.
So. Great.
"Man, I am so stupid."
"You are?"
He almost fell off his bed, and a strong hand caught him. There was a man beside him. His face was half hidden behind a mask and he was as blurry as the rest of the room. "You should feel better soon, don't force it."
"What happened?"
"You don't remember?"
He did. Everything. In the tiniest detail. The problem was more having his brain working with him on the why it happened part.
Even words felt foggy.
"I… I took a pill and… it should have just erased my Quirk temporarily, doesn't it? Why did I faint? Is my Quirk going to be all right?"
The man laughed, and helped him to sit up. "It's the first time one of my patients ask if their Quirks are going to be all right! Usually, when I have to come, they took too much of our pills because they want it to disappear forever. You are one of a kind."
Oh. He was a doctor. That explained the mask and the plastic gloves.
Foggy and slow.
Wait.
Wait a minute. Wait a good and solid minute.
Did he mean 'Our pills', like in "our pills that our creepy-criminal-organization buy and eat" or like in "our pills that my doctor-lab-or-something make"?
The answer to that question suddenly felt tremendously important. Kirishima's heartbeat raced up a little, and he considered very carefully, what the second option would imply.
It would mean the doctor in front of him, the very foggy masked doctor in front of him was making Quirk erasing pills.
His foggy mind stopped right there and then to draw more life-threatening unfounded conclusions, and decided it had to be the first option. It needed to be, and this doctor needed to be just a doctor, and not a Shie Hassaikai 2.0 doppelganger scientist with enough screw lose to actually think it was okay to torture little girls into making bloodstained money.
Just a doctor. He was just a doctor. After all, doctors were not judges. They saved lives, even lives within criminal organizations.
The man took a little torch and pointed it at Kirishima's eyes. It did not help the world to grow any clearer. "To answer your questions, I believe your Quirk is going to be just fine. It should be back in one or two days, at worse. As of why you fainted... I am a little more concerned. You have been taking 100 mg for… two years? Three?"
"…err… yes?" He said.
His mind was still too foggy and panicked to elaborate better lies.
"I checked again your medical file… you never had any problems before and your body should be used to it by now… but I couldn't wake you up by normal means and I had to use my Quirk on you… sorry about that." The doctor explained, putting his lamp away.
"Oh."
No idea what was his Quirk was. The other Kirishima probably knew, though, or the doctor would have explained more.
"Your case is interesting," he went on, getting up. "I hate when this sort of surprises happen. We think our medication is better and… anyway. That will give the old man another reason to ask us to stop, but don't blame yourself. It's not your fault, and we are on the right path. I took the liberty to take a little of your blood, for analysis."
This time, the 'our' sounded a lot closer to the "our pills that my doctor-lab-or-something make" option.
It was a lot to process, especially with his brain all clogged by fog and he had no proof that what he was currently starting to think was true. He was just overthinking, and that person in front of him was not from another version of Shie Hassaikai.
He was just making Quirk supressant drugs. Not bullets.
Which was entirely different.
Right.
Right?
Kirishima checked his arms. One of them had something white – and foggy – around the elbow. Aid band.
"Of course, please don't take another dose, or any other medication, and make sure someone always knows where you are. I do not know if it could happen again, and if it does, it is preferable you are not alone... I need to make a phone call, but I will be back soon."
He grabbed his bag and left. Kirishima waited for the footsteps to disappear and reached for his phone. Just finding it with his pounding head was a struggle. Reading the texts he had received or checking the time was properly out of question.
Kirishima almost wondered what could possibly go more wrong, but he stopped the thought mid-way into formulating it.
He really did not want to know the answer to that question.
Kaminari Denki rushed out of the station, trying to forget his conflicted feelings and to do something. Anything. Anything as long as he was not looking at his shoes and reflecting on himself.
He ignored the stares, (He was starting to hate them) and chose a small alley with shops and restaurants. Looking through the windows, he settled for a tiny café, and pushed the door. Clients were mainly salary men having a short breakfast before work. Most of them did not even bother raising their heads from their meals.
"Welcome!" The staff told him all together, and he chose a table from which he could stare at the T.V.
Grabbing the menu to avoid questions, he plugged his phone to the stupid battery charger and crossed all his fingers in hope it would work properly and that he would not have to hide in the toilet to charge it by himself. Waiting for the power lever to reach at least 5%, he stared at the T.V. screen.
It was unfortunately not showing images from the jailbreak, and did not help with his intense frustration. Politicians were having a heated discussion, which was particularly uninteresting since the sound was off. (What a waste of good electricity.)
He put his forehead on the menu. He was tired, he wanted to wake up… have his friends back, have his real parents back, have his hair back… he wanted to be back where everyone was safe, happy and alive.
"Young man? What would you like to eat?"
He was not sure he wanted to eat at all. His stomach was heavy, his heart was heavy and his head was heavy. He gloomily stared at the menu.
"Do you have energy drinks? I'll take a can, please. That's all."
The waiter left, and Kaminari looked up at the TV. They were speaking about human rights, it was written just below the speaker. Two men, on one side of the table, were getting angry while a woman, on the other side, was remaining very calm and smiling.
"That's Shimura Hana. People call her the little Hana."
Kaminari turned his head. The salary man just next to him was also staring at the screen, eating the cheapest noodle soup on the menu. "You looked like you were wondering."
"Oh… I… not exactly, but thanks."
"Welcome. She is already a major figure. She claims she will be the prime minister, when she will be a little older. Her family is also a flourishing one, and own a strong company. Rumors even say she has a very dangerous Quirk, but nobody was ever able to confirm it."
This Hana person was still smiling. She looked plain, with black hair, round face, black eyes, but at the same time, she looked fierce and dangerous. Kaminari stared at her, feeling that somehow, she looked disturbingly familiar.
Was she also a politician in the real world? Some face he would have seen on T.V. without paying much attention…? In any case, her name was unknown to Kaminari ears.
"You probably don't have political opinions just yet, young man, but if I can give advice, the kind of person she is, this is what our country's future should look like." The salaryman ate a spoonful of noodles, and checked his watch. "Time's running. I should stop bothering you and eat faster. Sorry for interrupting your thoughts."
"You did not interrupt… did they speak about a jailbreak? I… I heard it happened in the night and there was something about icebergs?"
"Of Course they did! That's why they invited the little Hana. Everybody else is just talking about how the escapees hurt so many people and how they destroyed half the installation. They needed someone with another opinion, and she is perfect for the job. She is telling them the escapees are people, telling them they are children, telling them nobody was killed despite their Quirks… well, see for yourself, that's not a quirk you witness that often!"
The little screen finally displayed an aerial view of what could only be a prison. The ceiling had crumbled to pieces, and the icebergs were still pointing at the sky, slowly melting away.
It was like the sport festival, but in every possible direction.
Wow. Todoroki.
"Did… he succeeded?"
"That's the main problem. They did, and the police can't find them."
"They?"
"There is the one with the fire and ice Quirk, and a girl with an acid Quirk. By this evening, photos are going to be published. For now they just gave general descriptions, but after I listened to it, I am not sure pictures are really needed."
It was a detail.
Just a detail.
Her teacher was explaining quadratic functions and she was supposed to listen, because if she wanted to keep her freedom of movement, Yaoyorozu needed to act as if everything was perfectly normal. She needed to remain the perfect family heir, and it implied actually attending to her classes.
Yet, Yaoyorozu could not focus because of this tiny, insignificant, little detail.
Instead of staring at the board, she was looking at the windows of the study hall.
The view was almost the same as the one she had known her entire life, except it was not. The house orientation was off, two or three degrees misaligned with its original position.
Why?
She could explain why her parent were different. In this world, history was different; people went through different events and emotions, so it was only natural for them to also be different.
She could also picture why her curtains were of different shades. The color choosing process was subjective to the mood of the person taking the final decision. If her parents had eaten something different for breakfast the day they bought it, they could have as well chosen curtains with yellow-sunflowers patterns.
Choosing how the house was orientated was on an entire different level of decision-making. It was agreed on meetings, discussed and chosen based on technical parameters and rational thinking.
It was very much illogical to build the exact same house, in the exact same place, with the exact same furniture, to misalign it by two or three degrees without a decent reason, and she could not picture the said reason.
This little difference between the real world and that one bugged her.
It was incoherent.
"Yaoyorozu-san, you seem very distracted, today." The teacher interrupted. "Is there something on your mind? Something you would like to discuss…? Maybe you have difficulties with the philosophy essay I asked you to write?"
She looked up, embarrassed. The teacher smiled again, and close the textbook. "Why don't we take a short break? You could use some fresh air. I give you fifteen minutes, and then we will try to go on with the lesson."
"Thank you," she said, trying to sound apologetic, and rose to exit the room.
She walked slowly in the corridors, looking around, brushing the walls with her fingertips. This house looked like her house, but the more she looked, the more differences she could find.
She pushed the garden door open, and sat on the grass.
This world felt coherent, as if it had always existed. Physical laws were fine. People were taking actions and talking as if everything had always been real. History was empty of loopholes, as far as she had read.
Yet, her house was not perfect.
When the world had switched to this version, it made mistakes.
Yaoyorozu was not so much into religion, quantum physics, or anything related to the process of universe creation. Yet, she felt overwhelmed by the certitude that none of the existing theories implied such a trivial thing as mistakes.
The implications and ramifications of her newfound discovery felt terrific… because, what if this world held bigger and more dangerous mistakes?
Her house orientation was a harmless mistake related to space organization.
What about mistakes affecting time?
What about mistakes affecting people?
People she knew?
Bakugo Katsuki knew something was wrong – beyond what was obviously wrong with this entire shit – something he was not able to put into words yet, but he was certain of it nonetheless.
He slammed the Midoriya's apartment door hard.
On and off.
This harmless little sentence intertwined with his memories. It linked them together, as if his last day at U.A. had just been a bad dream punctuated by flashes.
On and off.
Deku's mother story was just a children tale. It was not a lead, not even the beginning of skinny one, and yet, Bakugo felt it was important. He felt as if she had evoked a key to open a door.
Memories and pieces of his nightmare flashed before his eyes. He was not even sure which were which. He tried to focus on them for more than half a second, but it was almost impossible. To reuse the idea of the key and the door, he felt as if he knew there was a door, and had just seen picture of the key he needed to open it, without actually possessing it for real.
…Aizawa calling Kaminari and Hagakure, and asking which one was the one messing up with the lights, and which one of them had half-burned the kitchen…
On and off again.
The memory was flickering, the fucking lights were flickering in the memory, and he was not even sure if it had been real or not…
…They were leaving the dorms. In the fucking evening, at a time when it was actually abnormal to be outside… and then the lights… on and off, on and off… but that was bullshit, because there were no lampposts on the path they took!
Just stars, but frankly, it was just insane to consider that possibility. Stars did not flicker. Especially not all together at the same time, since they were not at all at the same distance to earth.
Deku's useless mother could use a little more physics lessons checking with her stupid son.
Yet, lights outside the dorms continued flickering, the memory zapping from one image to the next so fast it was undeniable something happened.
He sat in the stairs of the apartment complex, grateful to have some real air to breath, and barely registered the door of the apartment opening again.
"Kacchan?"
"Shut up. I'm thinking."
Deku did shut up, surprisingly. He climbed down the stairs, one at a time, and leaned his back against a pillar only a few steps away.
Bakugo decided to ignore him, and to try to check one memory at a time, frame after frame, from the beginning…
He was coming back from training, and then he climbed the stairs to his room to take a shower. He hesitated starting his homework, but he did not touch the textbooks. The due date was, for once, only the next Monday. Kirishima was in the corridor, asking if he wanted to eat. He had say "yes, 'kay" and followed him.
The dinner was not ready yet. The girls – No trace of Raccoon Eyes and Ears, only the other extra – were reading papers together on the couch. Round face was worried, everyone could tell, because, well… she tended to do mistakes with her Quirk when she was anxious, and the couch was suddenly floating a good ninety centimeters above the floor.
The boys were waiting for dinner. Sugar-boy was asking the girls if they wanted to eat on the small table by the couch. Kirishima was talking with Frenchie, and Pikachu was asking something.
There it started.
Pikachu was coming towards him, lips making sound, joking and… fuck. There was damn flicker of light after that, and nothingness.
Next frame, next memory, he was on the couch – not floating any longer – reading papers, maybe the same papers as the girls and he was so angry… but fuck, again, on, off, and fuck…
Deku's silence was unbearable.
"Fuck Deku, if you want to say something, just spit it out already!"
"… Are you okay?"
For god sake, Deku was so fucking annoyingly predictable. Why did he even bother inquire what his damn nerdy thoughts were?
"I am! Just, for once in your goddamn life, stop asking that stupid, shitty question!"
Deku slowly sat down, looking less than convinced, his back still leaning against the pillar. "…then, did you understand something? You looked like you did."
Bakugo did not answer. He was not even sure himself what it was he understood.
"Kacchan, I mean, it doesn't even make sense… how can a Quirk be as powerful as to affect stars? They are billions of light years away, and I'm sure that even All for One and One for All together wouldn't be able to get even close to affecting the sun…" the nerd mumbled, playing with his thumbs.
"Are you saying your Quirk is the most powerful?"
"Well, I am not… but objectively, Kacchan…"
"Do you want me to objectively blast you out of here?!"
Deku forced out an answer, looking tired. "Kacchan, you know it's not what I mean…"
He knew that it wasn't. Yet, Bakugo was too much on edge to refrain from snapping once again at the nerd. "So what the fuck is it that you mean? It is not because your shitty quirk cannot flip the universe in one night that no one else can! Breaking news, someone can! Because it happened!"
Deku looked in hast around, checking for anybody that could have heard them. "Kacchan!" He hushed him, "Please, we have to stay discrete!"
Bakugo wanted to shout he did not want to stay discrete, quiet, or anything even close to silent. He still bit back the comments, because he knew Deku was right, even if he hated it. The nerd got his knees closer to himself and put his forehead on them. "I agree with the universe-change power theory. It could be someone's fault. What I meant is that my mother story sounds like a legend, not something real or related to what's happening right now… so I'm asking if you understood something more, because you looked like you did, and I don't have the slightest idea of what it could be."
How can somebody be so fucking annoying? If stares could kill, he would have murdered the nerd on the spot. He did not understand something more. He had no great answers to provide. He had nothing more than patched up memories.
"It happened." He still said and his voice felt almost distant. "We were at U.A. It happened in the dorms, and Aizawa believed it was Kaminari or Hagakure's fault… and then… and then…"
The memory slipped away.
"Shit! I remember these damn lights going on and off, so many fucking times, but nothing after that! Nothing at all!"
"It happened at U.A.? Do you mean the stars flickering?!" Deku blurted out, looking up. "When? Where?"
"Wash your shitty ears! Not the stars! Starts don't flicker or we will be all dead! You said it yourself, for god... Lights! Lights, as in "bulbs", or… or… whatever! And don't ask another fucking question because I don't remember!"
Bakugo got up from the stairs, and started going towards the ground floor. Deku did not comment, but Bakugo knew what he was thinking. His thoughts were almost loud. He could not go further outside, he should not take that risk, it was a terrible idea.
It was.
"Kacchan…"
"I GET IT, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
"Not that", the nerd said, as if he did not doubt Bakugo's ability to follow up on his inward mumbling – which was annoying as hell – "I mean…Kirishima, he is calling us."
Bakugo whirled around.
At least, some fucking news, some fucking news cutting short his urge to escape that lousy apartment complex to go absolutely nowhere. Deku picked up the phone. He put it on speaker and Kirishima's voice welcomed them. It was a little slow and sluggish.
"Midoriya? Did… I call the right number? This is so annoying… the screen is all fuzzy…"
"Yes you did… are you all right?" Deku asked, concerned, because it was probably his favorite question in the world, and probably also because Kirishima did not sound right at all.
"I'm an idiot, but I'll make it," He answered very slowly, as if he had to think twice each word. "Did… did you find Bakugo? Is he f-fine?"
"I'm fucking fine!" He snapped, "Stop fucking worrying over me! You all sound like elderly, repeating yourself all the time!"
"Kirishima." Deku said, putting the phone a little further from Bakugo. "Is everything really all right for you too? You spoke about a crime syndicate... and…"
"…err, well, about that…"
Kirishima stopped mid-sentence.
They both heard a door opening and Kirishima saying a very manly "Mum?"
"Eijiro! For God sake, how can you be this stupid?!" His mother screamed, crossing the room towards his bed. He hurriedly put the phone away, not even trying to turn it off. It had taken him four tries to find the proper calling button, so he knew hanging up would need as much effort. He managed to get up but his entire body felt heavy and wobbly, and he barely managed to stand. "You are in serious trouble! I hope you do have a good explanation!"
He was in trouble? For fainting after taking a drug she had given to him? If only his eyes would cooperate… his mind was a little clearer, but the world was still a lot too foggy for normal.
"Why did you do that?!"
He had done everything everyone told him. Eat dinner with that Yu-despicable-person, gulp a drug down, and stay in his room waiting for the 50-50%-chance-fake-Shie-Hassaikai-doctor to come back.
He had done everything because they asked him.
Honestly?
He was reaching his limit.
"Answer me! Eijiro!" his mother roared.
He remained silent, closing his hands and biting back the urge to tell she was amnesiac, hallucinating, completely losing her marbles, and that they needed to stop this insane game, because he done.
Instead of screaming even more furiously, his mother turned around. She checked if the corridor was empty and closed his door, only to face him again. "Eijiro. I know you've been exemplary until today. I know you are just fifteen, I know it's been three years, I know you need a break, and I know we are asking a lot. I know, and we can talk about it whenever you need to, but you can't mess up like this!"
"I…"
"Let me finish! I know it is the best place we have lived in so far. I know you like it. I know you are getting used to it, but this place is not a little heaven for people like us. You can't get all comfortable, start taking the drug daily like all of them, and hope to have a normal life until the end of the days! You have a job, you agreed to it, and you need to get it done! …and it's Not becoming one of them!"
What?
What was she saying?
She shoved a finger in his chest and continued, her voice angry but just above whisper.
"We need to stop this experiment they are doing, find where they do the drug, understand how they make it, and destroy their chances of making a final version of it. It's the only reason we are here… and if you start feeling guilty about deceiving Yuchiko-chan, and take the drug too, there is no way we can complete this mission!"
Mission?
Kirishima felt his mouth open, and he stared at his fuzzy-crazy-mother, not yet totally processing what was happening.
They were not part of this criminal organization.
They were infiltrating it.
"Don't stare at me as if I'm speaking about rocket science! For god sake, why did you take the drug?"
"You… you put it on my tray…"
They were infiltrating it.
They were infiltrating the organization making Quirk suppressant drugs. Not just a random criminal orgnazition inviting doctors with that knowledge.
He was starting to really connect the dots, and what he understood was terrifying him to an extend that was barely describable. This was a branch of Shie Hassaikai.
And he was infiltrating it.
All the remaining fogginess of his brain disappeared instantly.
"Eijiro! Have your grown stupid overnight? You are supposed to fake taking it, just in case something happens and you'd need your Quirk, as you do everyday! You couldn't anticipate you'll react badly to it, I know…. But now they may suspect you never had it before! The doctor, he is saying he is thinking of taking you with him to run other tests… and if they understand…!"
He was frozen. His mother continued, anger and worry all mixed up.
"If they understand you never took the drug in three years, they'll kick us out! You know the entire organization swore to obey the leader rules, and the rule is no Quirk! "
She huffed, and she reached for one of the few textbooks the other Kiri possessed and opened it. A picture served as a bookmark. She stared at it, and came back to him.
"Eijiro. We have an employer and we signed a contract. If we cannot complete our end the bargain, they won't compete theirs… and if the government get its hands on the drug, it's over! The organization has not completed the final version of it yet, but even if it's still lethal most of the time, they will still sell it when an opportunity arises! They need the money. It's only thanks to bribes that they can maintain this sort of places! They will sell it, and all the people in prison or in schools, they'll be forced to take it. Our own family. Our friends."
She shoved the picture in his hands.
"Find a way to convince the doctor your fainting is unrelated to the drug, and even if you don't like Yuchiko-chan, remembers she's an important person in the organization. She knows. We need to find a way to have her talking, and faster. It's been three years, and we are not making any progress, while the drug is."
The picture was old, showing a group of twenty kids. Most faces were unknown to him, and they all wore white T-shirts with numbers on it. They all smiled, but the smiles were somehow feeble. He felt the strength leave his legs and slumped on the bed.
The other Kiri was in the middle, his hair black and a grim look on his face.
There was another Jirou next to him, an arm around his shoulders, and another Iida was also on the picture, a lot further in the crowd, as if they did not really know each other.
Someone's writing had scribbled something on the paper.
"I still don't get it how you of all people managed to 'graduate', but we are all glad for you. You will not miss here, so do not ever think of doing something worth of coming back. If you do, we will beat you so bad, you'll die.
Listen to good music, eat whatever looks good, play video games, and stay safe, idiot.
If I never graduate, see you in next life."
Okay. This looked a lot like one of these 'schools', and this looked like something a fake-Jirou could write. He needed to know if Jirou and Iida woke up there, and if they did…
… Not finishing that thought. Nope.
Was his phone still calling Midoriya and Bakugo? Shit. It was still a little fuzzy and he couldn't see it.