Countdown to Reality

1. Many thanks to the reviewing guests! You do have some interesting theories!

2. Have a good reading time!

Day 2. Time to go to sleep. Countdown 23: 19: 01

The sky had turned black. In every household, children were in bed. Midoriya Izuku also was, but he could not sleep. Each time he tried to close his eyes, he was imagining Todoroki and Ashido-san somewhere, outside, running for their lives, while he was incapable of helping.

He was staring at the ceiling, staring, staring…. Hoping a call from Hagakure… or from anyone else.

From Uraraka. He missed her cheerful smile and her strength. He hoped she was fine, but with her Quirk, odds were not that good.

From Iida or Jirou. At least, they must be together.

From Aoyama… who should have answered, even with jet lag, but who did not.

From All Might. He was old and weak, and if he was imprisoned... Izuku felt his heart squeeze. All Might was in danger.

He also thought about all the others. His father – he was used to his absence, but it felt different in there, and he had forgotten to ask what happened to him – his teachers, class B, Shinzo-kun, or Principal Nezu… they were probably somewhere and…

"…twenty-three, nineteen, zero."

Izuku's eyes slowly glided towards the futon. Kacchan was laying on his side, apparently sleeping.

"K-Kacchan?" Izuku whispered, but it was not enough to wake up his friend.

He slowly got out of bed and crouched down. Kacchan had a strange expression and his eyelids were blinking quickly, as if he was having another bad dream. Izuku hesitated and eventually shook his shoulder.

"Kacchan?"

The moment he touched him, his palm was humid with sweat. Gross. Izuku kept his hand in the air, wondering if the word 'nitroglycerin' was explicitly included in 'Traces of nitroglycerin' as warning or just as a harmless fact. He had underlined that question several times his notebooks, but he never came up with a satisfying answer, and Kacchan, of course, never told him.

However, it was not a good time to fact check that. His eyes had wandered on Kacchan's own palms, and the deadly sweat was glittering there too.

Izuku shook his shoulder harder, now determined to wake him up. If he could let him have nightmares, he could not let him destroy the building by accident.

"…twenty-three, eighteen, fifty-nine."

"Kacchan. You are talking in your sleep."

He obtained no reaction, so he shook him harder. No result.

Izuku slowly started to think there was a problem. He put some light on, and shook his friend really harder.

"Kacchan. Hey, Kacchan, wake up!"

Nothing happened. Not a single movement, no resistance, nothing.

Izuku breathed out, slowly: Kacchan was just having a nightmare. It could be difficult to wake up from a nightmare. It was normal. It was all right.

He hesitated an additional second, and grabbed the glass of water on his desk. If it worked, Kacchan was going to be mad…

"…twenty-" Izuku did not hesitate longer and poured the entire glass on him, ready to be reduced to limbs and body parts, but Kacchan did not react and continued counting, uninterrupted. "-three, eighteen, fifty-eight."

He should be awake. There was a problem. Izuku felt his breath accelerate, and tried to keep calm.

"Kacchan! Hey Kacchan!"

So much for keeping calm. He had to think.

Think.

Kacchan not waking up was definitely not good, but the nitroglycerin issue was the true emergency. He had learned that in class: In a crisis, prioritize. The first thing to do was always to protect, to prevent any additional incident from happening.

Kacchan not waking up was not about to create any extra problems. His friend igniting his hands in his sleep certainly would.

Izuku grabbed a shirt, wiped his friend's hands carefully, and immediately put the shirt away.

Better. Not perfect, because Kacchan was still sweating, but definitely better.

"Twenty-three, eighteen, fifty-seven."

He tried again to shake him up, in vain. Just in case, Izuku checked him rapidly for wounds – Kacchan did jump through a third floor window –, and did not find any. There was no apparent reason why his friend was not waking up.

He had no idea what to do past that. Aizawa had been clear in his lessons: They were heroes, not doctors. When facing an unconscious person, they had to protect, alert emergencies – he would obviously not do that –, assess the person state, use first aid if needed, and wait for professionals. The rest was not within the range of their abilities.

Therefore, he sat beside his friend, mulling over at what point he should rightfully panic.

"Twenty-three, eighteen, fifty-six."

Izuku grabbed his notebook and scribbled the number. Having a pencil helped him calm down. He wrote another one, then another one, while Kacchan mumbled them. It was definitely not random. Each time, it just went down by one digit. Each time, Izuku frowned a little bit more.

He checked the time on his phone, and Kacchan spoke again at the very instant the minute changed. Izuku's eyebrows jumped, his glance glided back to his friend, and then up to his phone. He waited, wondering if…

The minute changed again, and Kacchan deduced another digit.

It struck him.

Minutes.

He was keeping track of minutes! It had no link with the actual hour but he counted time! What for? Was it part of his nightmare to be a speaking clock? His parents had spoken about unusual nightmares but seriously… a speaking clock? Kacchan himself spoke about nightmares… and hallucinations: That 'on/off' stuff, the woman next door…

Izuku suddenly felt cold, struck by another thought he instantly wished he did not have.

Nightmares and hallucinations were not something his Kacchan had.

He took another good look at his friend, who still looked like his friend. However, their situation suddenly felt a lot more complex than it had before. A thousand "What if…?" clogged his brain, and he could not start to sort them.

"… two, zero-zero, and six, zero-zero… twenty-four, three, fifty-one." He had done that too, the previous night! Additions. Which did not make sense. Kacchan couldn't have a nightmare related to math: he was good at math! Izuku wanted to write the numbers, but his hands were cold.

He could barely hold the pencil. He reached again for his friend shoulder, and helplessly tried again to shake him awake.

"Minus four, zero-zero, zero-zero…twenty, three, fifty-one."

"Everything is going to be all right", Izuku told himself.

It was easier to believe when someone else was saying it.

Kirishima Eijiro was not sleeping yet either. He had just arrived and was carrying his bag over his shoulder. Chisaki had left him in the hands of a lackey, and the man guided him towards another inner courtyard, hidden behind thick doors. He expected the journey to continue with underground alleyways, but it did not. The man locked the doors, and pointed at the patio surrounding the courtyard. Sliding doors punctuated it, and only a few had thin rays of orange light escaping from underneath.

"You are staying here." He indicated. "All people being treated stay here. Meals are served in the rooms, but you can eat it outside as long as you stay in this area."

Kirishima nodded, surprised. It was not what he had envisioned. It was not underground, and it was not looking like a prison. There were just locks, doors and walls, but walls were just walls. There was room for an escape plan.

"You sleep here." The lackey told him, sliding a door. The space was narrow but it was much more than he had wished for. "If you don't feel well, you can ring." He added, pointing at a cord just above the bed.

"There is a doctor?" Kirishima asked.

"A nurse." It was a lot different from what he remembered, but to be fair, he had not visited the entire installation the first time. "Her office is that door over there, the one marked in green. That's also where you'll meet the doctors during the day. Questions?"

He stared at the green-lit door. A silhouette was working just behind the panel, and her presence felt reassuring.

"…when I am supposed to see a doctor?"

"The nurse will tell you tomorrow. That's why you need to stay in that perimeter. If that's all, have a good night."

Kirishima nodded again, closed the door and sat on the bed.

"I doing fine, we'll talk later" was his last and only message to the chat group and since then, numerous ones had piled up. He scrolled through the messages, until he reached the last one, a stupid selfie of Kaminari and an empty spot called Hagakure.

He laughed. Despite all his worries, he laughed.

Far away, Hagakure, naked as the day she was born, was following her boss in the big Endeavor-building. She was tired, wanted to sleep and rest, but she still followed, because it was her real job, as a hero.

Her boss went in her office, opened her computer, and despite the late hour, phoned to several people: A minister to get a report on weapons selling activities. A secretary to get her schedule of the next day – it was cute, on the fax she received, Hagakure name was in pink –, and many other uninteresting people. She also answered a few emails before laying down on a couch and taking a blanket.

Hagakure was about to sit on the floor and try to sleep a little when the Small Hana got another phone call.

During the entire day, she had seen fake politician smiles on her face, but at that precise moment, she smiled genuinely.

"Hey… you're still up?" She waited a little and giggled. "That's a lie, you never go to bed before I do, you're such a nerd. Me? Well. The job eats me alive… oh. You saw the news. What do you think of my strategy? Yeah… I know, no need to remind me, I would not do it if I had the choice, but do you see another path? We have the opportunity to put our country on better tracks, I must…"

There was a long pause. Hagakure listened hard, but the sound was too faint, and she wouldn't dare to get closer. She was not supposed to be there anymore after all, and she couldn't afford to get caught.

"…right. Don't listen to Granny too much. She is old and have old ideas. In her time, she did try… oh, yes, she did! She is just too proud to admit she failed. Search dad's office, you'll find evidence, there are pictures of her that can prove it…"

The voice on the other side answered loudly and Hagakure caught a few words. Something about never going in that office again without authorization.

"…just ask her, then! I'm not lying, not to you! Granny is no hero, or she failed being one long ago. Living openly with Quirks never worked. It just brought problems, and she… no, I did not say that. I'm just telling you that now it's my time, and that I'll try something we haven't tried before because everything else failed… Quirks are a curse… you know it so much better than I do, why do you…"

The person speaking to her boss said something quietly, but it shut Hana's mouth like a slap.

"…Don't threaten me." She whispered with anger in every letter. "It is a curse for most people, you are one of these people, and I am not reviewing my plans now. These kids, they give me an opportunity we may never have again, and I do not care what you think. I am going to make this place a better one, my way."

She stopped and sighed. "Yeah. Sorry. I… care about what you think. It's just… it could be the start of something real, and I'm really worried it doesn't work. Yeah… you're right, let's sleep. Good night, bro. I miss you."

Hagakure, sitting in her corner, did not really know what to do with that conversation. What opportunity? What strategy? What kids…? Todoroki-kun and Ashido-chan? She did not like her boss, not at all, but at least, she stood up for them, during all her interviews. She never called them monsters… but she was also looking for them with the police!

Playing with one strand of hair, she also chewed another point. Her boss, who was running for prime minister, had a Quirked brother.

She doubted that information was public.

Kaminari Denki finally found Todoroki's house. (He had walked and walked and walked in the neighborhood quoted in the articles for hours and hours and hours. Minimum.)

It was not the architecture nor the name on the mailbox that gave it away. Todoroki's place had burned to the ground, leaving an abandoned ruin in the middle of the city, making the place unmissable. It still smelled like ashes years after, (or it was just his imagination) and vegetation covered it all like a small jungle. He stared at it from the opposite pavement and did not dare to move.

He did not want to enter that place.

Someone had died in there. Several people, actually. Including one of Todoroki's brothers.

He suddenly realized they would have to tell him about that. To show him the articles. To announce he had no family anymore and at least one dead brother. Kaminari nervously looked at the house remains.

That was not going to be a fun part.

He still entered, and settled against an inner wall, sitting down in an uncomfortable position. He took out of his backpack a sandwich as well as the cord to charge his phone. Nobody being around, he put it in his mouth while typing.

From: Kaminari Denki

I arrived

There is no trace of them

Or of someone else

it's going to be a long nigh

Most answers came immediately, as if nobody was sleeping.

From: Yaoyorozu Momo

Kaminari-kun, if you are too cold, buy a blanket at the Konbini.

From: Midoriya Izuku

Thank very much Kaminari, I wish we could be with you

Don't hesitate to call

From: Kirishima Eijiro

Good thing man

Sorry I couldn't answer when you called earlier. I was just a bit busy

Kaminari knew he also had to answer his parents and his fake classmates. He took one he remembered from middle school and started to invent a story. (He had met The cute girl and he was spending some good time with her. So he needed an alibi for his parents, and please, you are my best friend, aren't you? Can you say I was at your place all day and I slept over? Okay, I'll lend you all the games you'd like…).

That being done, he checked again the photo sent by Yaoyorozu, the one with the floating lady and the young all Might. She did not look like a villain at all… but Hagakure was right on one point:

He was always talking and doing things without thinking, and regretting it later. It happened every day, like that very morning, in the train, and he was tired of messing up… in one word, he was stupid. Still, he wished he were right, for once. He wished he could be smarter, and that people would listen to him as they listened to Yao-Momo or Midoriya.

But they did not.

He was not them.

Sometimes, it hurt a little. He felt jealous, or sad, or something that hurt when he watched Yao-Momo teach them about wonderful things, but he always smiled and laughed to ignore it, and nobody really ever noticed. (To be fair, Kirishima did, on occasions).

At least, they trusted him with simple tasks, like watching that house, but definitely not with the thinking, so he pocketed his phone and bit in his sandwich.

If Hagakure thought Floating-Lady was not nice, and if nobody wanted to hear his stupid ideas, who was he to argue?

Backpack? Check.

Good, comfortable shoes? Check.

Water, food? Check.

Phone? Check… but not useful (it had no internet, and her contact list was useless).

Second pair of socks? Jacket? Check.

Gloves? Ok… the gloves were too girly, but at least they were lovely, and came in three different shades of pink. Check.

Money? … She was stealing from her parents. She had never imagined she could do something like that… 4500 yens. She could not run away without money, could she? It was barely enough for a few days, and it would not be enough to afford the train… but she could not take more, even if her parents were… well… weird – the scary weird, not the funny weird – they still were her parents and she still loved them.

Money…? OK, check, fine! She was not stealing… it was just a loan. She would give it back and apologize!

ID? Check, (Uraraka Ochako, 15 years old, Quirkless, it said.) She probably should also take the little blue card she had found on her desk (Uraraka Ochako, 15 years old, it also said, displaying a handicap easy-access logo). There was something about her not being able to use her hands written on the back.

None of it was correct. Both her Quirk and her hands were perfectly fine.

Courage to stick to the plan? …

Uraraka looked up at the too cute, too pink, too girly frame above her bed. In the picture, her parents were hugging a younger, cuter, smaller version of herself.

This person was not her.

It would never be. That Ochako had a sob story she was not strong enough to carry on her shoulders any longer. She had tried to adapt, to be her, to fit, because she did not want to hurt her parents, but it was just too difficult to agree with her choices… and since she had seen her classmates on TV, she could not comfortably stay home any longer.

A little diary, by her fluffy pillow, explained it all. That Ochako was born poor – no changes – with loving parents – no changes yet – with a Quirk – still the very same – that she hated more than anything in the world.

Big. Change.

Courage to go on with the plan? Yes. Check.

She closed her backpack. She closed the window. She closed the diary. Closing the story of that Uraraka who could not write in her own diary by herself was going to be a lot harder.

In all the pictures, she wore the girly gloves, and in the diary, it was her words, but her mother's handwriting.

I hurt my hands to stay with Mommy and Daddy.

She had no idea what exactly the other Uraraka had done, and frankly, she did not want to know. She just knew it was bad enough to make her Quirkless. She wanted to take the little pink gloves off her hands. Too much sorrow and pain were knitted there, but she had to keep them on.

Courage to tell her parents she was not the daughter they believed she was, not anymore?

Courage to tell her parents it was going to be all right, that they would have their real, heroic daughter back?

Courage to tell them she still had her hands and fingers working just fine, her Quirk, her resilience? Courage to tell them she would need so much more than all three to go forward?

"Plus Ultra," she whispered, heading to the kitchen.

Worst nightmare ever.

Bakugo could not remember what the dream was about, and he wanted nothing more than escaping it. Yet, he knew he had to try remembering. It was important. It was really important.

He clung to the remaining images left in his flickering memory, and between flashes and patches of darkness, small fragments came back to him.

…They were leaving the classroom. He was gathering his books, and in front of him, Deku was chatting with the frog girl and Sero. Since it was about training Deku's stupid new Quirk, he passively eavesdropped without feeling guilty about it. "I am sorry," Sero was apologizing, "I can't join training today, I've got to go now with the others. So see you soon... or maybe not so soon, I'm not sure." The frog girl smiled. "I'm sure it will be soon Sero-chan"…

He had to wake up. He knew it was not a memory. It was a nightmare and it was not ending well.

… "Midoriya-Shonen!" All Might was waiting by the gym, as discreet as ever. Bakugo felt his stomach protest. It was dinnertime! Bad timing for a secret meeting. He kicked Deku – just to catch his attention – and told him: "You tell me later what he wanted, I'm heading back." Deku looked bothered, but not about the kick. "He already tried to convince me earlier, during the entire training time. I'll listen again, but I know what he wants, and I'm not stepping out…"

He had to wake up, and that was not a nightmare, that was a fucking memory. He had to wake up before the end. He had to, but it was starting to flicker, the lights always flickered at that point, Kaminari was coming towards him, opening his mouth and it was already changing to the next…

…Bakugo slammed his fist on the table and Kaminari recoiled. "YOU ARE SO FUCKING DEAD, SHITHEAD!" His stupid friend tried to back off to another end of the kitchen but bumped into the microwave. Unfortunately, before he could reach him and reduce him to tiny bits, Kirishima was between them. "Dude! Chill, that was just a joke!"

He did not want to remember that joke. It was not funny, he knew that much. It hurt, and fortunately, Deku had not heard. Deku was not in the nightmare-memory anymore, maybe he had chickened out, maybe it was a too scary memory-nightmare for that wimp and… and he had to fucking wake up! He tried too, but he just could not. The memory continued to unfold despite his attempts to stop it.

…Cheeks put the floating couch back in place to let the boys sit. She folded her own sheet of paper and put it in her pocket. Her movements where almost shaky."Ochako-chan, everything is going to be fine." The frog girl tried to reassure her. Cheeks nodded, but still bit her lip. "I just don't feel like I'm ready." she whispered, "We should know how to prepare or train before… but it's just happening too fast…"

Wait, wait, slow that shit down! Before what happens? Another light, another shadow cut the memory. He had to wake up. Now. He had to. He had to, because the nightmare started and they were outside, and lights were on, and off, and on again, and Invisible-Girl was saying she had not meant to, and voices, loud voices, and Deku was finally back, he was grabbing Kaminari and shouting at him, and he almost, almost punched him, and Aizawa was… and something so fast it…

He abruptly sat up.

Worst nightmare ever.

He couldn't really remember… and where was his damn bedside lamp? And why was he soaked? And they had known…! Sero had to go somewhere, and All Might also did not want Deku to go, so the nerd missed most of training time because of that, and Kaminari said something, did something, and it smelled like something burning, and Cheeks had read her paper over and over, as if…

"Kacchan?"

Deku was sitting next to him, looking like a ghost. That sight brought him back to earth. Right. He was still in Deku's apartment, far away from U.A. and their world. Which did not explain why the nerd was as white as his shitty notebook page.

"The fuck, Deku?"

"… you… you were having a nightmare. Again."

"And? How is that your business?" He snarled.

"You wouldn't wake up… f-for exactly three hours and fifty two minutes."

"You counted?"

"No. You did." Deku said, and he held out his phone, opening a video lasting a few seconds. He played it and Bakugo heard himself say, "Twenty, one, thirty-eight."

Beside the fact that Deku filming him in his sleep was the creepiest thing he had ever done, that was a disturbing thing to watch. "Kacchan… I think you should talk with your parents about what exactly your nightmares are supposed to be like. It's the second night it happens and it can't be healthy…"

It was the third night, and it wasn't healthy since he barely slept, but whatever, he could deal with it just fine.

"These numbers, Kacchan… c-can you tell me w-what they mean?"

The nerd seemed to assume he kept it to himself on purpose. He did not, since he had no idea what it meant, but he had something much more important to tell Deku. Sarting another fight could wait, for once.

"We knew."

"…what?"

"At U.A., we knew some shit was about to happen. And I think we partially knew what was going to happen."

Day 2: end.

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Countdown + 00:08:00

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Countdown - 04:00:00

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Day 3: start. Countdown 20:03:51

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