...

To his horror but not his surprise Nighteye walked off to make a phone call. Quiet anger could be heard in the man's tone but he couldn't make out the words. He had a fairly good idea of who was on the other line. A certain Number One Hero was likely getting chewed out for his stupidity.

They should have known better two years ago. In a fight with All Might, there should have been a body. His quirk was not something that would have destroyed a body. Given that there wasn't one found the correct conclusion would have been that someone escaped with it. Or All For One was still alive.

Deciding to ignore the men he continued his hunt for parts. By the time Nighteye returned Izuku was half-buried in the trash heap. He would toss out things every now and then that he thought might be useful. At one point the heap nearly collapsed when he tried to move aboard to get to a monitor.

As the heap began to shift in an unstable manner he felt a tugging on his clothes. Jeanist was ensuring he knew exactly where Izuku was at. The trash heap stabilized itself after a moment. The threads of his clothes went limp no longer held by Jeanist's quirk. Izuku gave the monitor a forlorn look knowing he wouldn't be able to get to it without burying himself.

Cautiously he poked his head out of the heap expecting the two heroes to be there. Only to find the surrounding area empty of people. Suspicion crept into him. They wouldn't just leave him. Not without knowing what he did.

Slowly Izuku climbed down the trash heap and listened. He could hear the waves lightly crashing on the shore. Other than that he couldn't hear anything else. Had they really gone? He hoped so.

When his feet hit the sand he went as still as a statue. Listening to everything around him was quiet and how it should be. Again mistrust filled him but he went to his camper. As far as he could tell nothing had been moved. The only change was that there was a bag on the table. He could smell the katsudon. His mouth watered at the scents.

Carefully Izuku opened the containers and just as his nose told him it was full of katsudon. A pang of homesickness filled him. How often had he and Yamato eaten katsudon in the man's office? How often had they gone out for food after a difficult mission?

Burning in his eyes was his only warning as tears began to fall. Loneliness had been a part of him since returning. Pushing it down and talking with Alcor helped some but it wasn't the same. Now his emotions were boiling over.

Footsteps were coming up into his camper. Izuku still unable to stop the tears glared at the intruder. It was Nighteye. Izuku snarled and he could hear Jeanist outside. Both were being cautious but they were worried. He could see it clearly in the man's golden eyes. He didn't want their concern. It wasn't like they would understand and explaining would make him sound like he was mad.

Nighteye asked in a voice far softer than Izuku expected of the hero, "Are you okay? Is there something wrong with the food?"

Why was he so concerned? Was it because Fate decided to fuck with Izuku? That was what Izuku had decided Fate had done. She decided to fuck with him. After all why else would he meet the soul parents that had died in his previous timeline?

Izuku distinctly remembered the day that Nighteye died. He hadn't known it was that man or that they were soulparent and child. There had been too many who died on the raid. If he remembered correctly the police and hero toll was just shy of 100. Learning the specifics later he had known it was someone in the raid just not who.

The death had caused his soul to feel as if it was tearing itself apart. Even unbonded with his soulparent, the pain was nearly indescribable. No matter how much time passed the echoes of the pain still lingered. As if he would always be missing some part of himself. Only now did he realize that the pain that had been a constant was gone. Only the memory of it remained. Memory and the loneliness of not having his friend by his side.

Swiping at the tears he snarled, "I'm fine! I don't need your help!"

There was the ever so slight cocking of the man's head as he examined Izuku. His sharp eyes reminded the vigilante of a hawk. Or a falcon as he remembered the mark.

"I think you do," whispered Nighteye his golden eyes gentling as he kneeled, "Your eyes show a great amount of pain and loneliness. Why won't you let us help you?"

"Why won't you leave it, hero?! You don't know anything about me! Neither of you has bothered to try and do any research. If you did you wouldn't be fucking here."

From outside he could hear Jeanist let out a quiet gasp. He wasn't expecting such hostility. Well too bad.

Nighteye continued in a patient tone, "I care because that is part of being a good person. Being a good hero."

Izuku couldn't help himself. He snorted and his green eyes turned nearly grey with their coldness.

"Tell that to those who would leave a child in a burning school all because they didn't have a quirk."

Nighteye looked positively sick. Yeah, that's what he thought. The moment anyone found out you didn't have a quirk they wanted nothing to do with you. With a harsh shove, he sent the green-haired hero sprawling out onto the sand. Jeanist had taken a step closer to his camper.

With a harsh glare, he snarled, "Don't pretend you care. People only pretend to care about the quirkless. To everyone around us, we are wastes of resources. Don't pretend you haven't looked down upon on someone because of their genetics. I guarantee if you look back you have well-meaning or not."

With that, he shoved the "door" back over the entrance before stalking off to his sleeping bag. Stupid heroes. Why couldn't they just leave him be?