A/N: Chapter 3, for your convenience!

Yes, I am pretty crazy. Yes, I will vaguely follow the Destiny story (shoutout to Guest reviewer) but only enough to keep things together; In other words, this might as well be if the Traveler and all its enemies came to the MHA universe instead of Destiny. You might see that In what I'm trying to set up in this chapter.

I'm glad to see you fine people enjoying This Little Light of Mine, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!


[Present]

Pftang!

The Ghost zoomed to use him as it's hiding place, and he winced as the bolt slammed into the wall to the left of them. His awe quickly being replaced with fear and confusion, he held it out, a million questions running through his brain.

"What are you? Are you some sort of sapient life-form? How are you hovering and disappearing the way you do? How are you communicating when I don't see a speaker, do you speak through thoughts or some other way? Is your shell customizable? How well do you see with one eye? Is it because you have a quirk-" His brain stuttered to a stop, lancing pain shooting across his mind. What the… Why can't I… I can't remember-?

"Survive first, questions later," the Ghost said, it's casing whirling with it's words. It seemed taken back at all the muttering he was doing, but it continued anyway. It flexed forward, almost as if it were frowning. 'It' actually kinda sounded like a she. Was it a she? Could sapient floating eyeballs be classified by gender? Whatever, he would call it a she until she said something- "Hey, pay attention!" It-she said, sighing.

"Right now, we're in the middle of a skirmish. I tried to stay lowkey, but as soon I saw your Spark, I got excited. They saw me, and now we need to manoeuvre out of here." She turned around, eye peeking through the rusted frames and boxes that littered the dusty racks of their hiding spot. "I count five, one captain. It shouldn't be too hard, but we don't have any weapons."

Her eye returned to looking at him, and then it went to the object still clutched in his hand. There was a beat of silence, before he too brought the object up and eyed it, grime and dirt covering it. Wiping some of it off, it seemed to be an image-

"Look…" the Ghost started, "Sometimes, Guardians are revived with something connecting them to their past." He struggled to look away from the colours he could see through the dirt, and up at the Ghost. It sighed. "We can talk about this later. For now, let's get moving. I'll stow it away for later."

Without warning, the image dissolved into blue light, and he widened his eyes, panic starting to fill them. "Wha-h-how? Where'd it go?!" He then watched as his Ghost dematerialized and his body started to shake. "Hey! Where'd you-!?"

"I'm right here with you," a voice said in his mind- the voice of his Ghost. "Keep your voice down!"

He hissed, putting his back to the wall and looking from left to right. "You could've given me some warning!"

Feeling his Ghost sigh, she said, "It looked like it would be easier just to show you what I could do." A tingling started to fall over his body and he frowned in confusion.

"What are you doing now?"

He could almost feel the smirk on his Ghost. "Just materializing some basic armour from the material around us. You'll need it for what's coming ahead."

In an instant, he found himself wearing a helmet and the armour his Ghost had promised. Looking it over, he, for some reason, was pleased to see that his Ghost had maintained the colour scheme he had woken up in: Green with black highlights, and red combat boots replacing the red tatters he had just been wearing.

"What's the helmet for?"

"For this."

A swath of information filled his vision, and he saw a circle appear in the top left of his vision- a radar, it seemed. On his left, he saw a few slots that were red, as if there was an error, and a bar came into existence at the top before it slowly faded. Breathing just as fine and seeing just as far as he usually did without the helmet, he was amazed. "Woah, this is crazy…"

"You haven't seen anything yet."

He deadpanned. His Ghost giggled nervously. "What? I'm serious!"

One eye-roll later, he was creeping through the shadows of the rubble he was in. Odd clicking and guttural growls penetrated the tense silence, and he edged closer and closer to a blasted hole in the wall. "I've set a waypoint to a weapon I saw earlier," his Ghost whispered, "It's pretty beat up, but it should let you handle these low-level footsoldiers." He paused at that, something in his head screaming at him to stop. So he did.

"A… a weapon?" he asked shakily.

A soft hum filled his mind. "Don't tell me you're queasy now, you won't survive without it."

"But that means we'll-!" He tripped over a piece of drywall and crashed hard into the ground, groaning in discomfort. Though it wasn't the loudest sound, it was enough for those hunting him to take notice. With ominous shrieks and cries, they began barraging him with bolts of pure energy. He scrambled to move, his mind screaming at him to run, but a few bolts hit him, and he yelled in pain.

"Gah! That stings!"

If his Ghost had hands, he was sure she would have slapped him by now. "Idiot!" It lamented. "Now we'll have to run. Go! I've set a beacon, it's up to you to make it there!" Another beam hitting near his head was enough incentive for his body to kickstart. Scrambling forward, he burst into the musty hallway, cracks of light filtering through the shattered floors. His eyes quickly settled on a flight of stairs and he bounded up them, marveling at his speed.

Have I always been this fast?

Shoving past a door that was hanging off its hinges, he saw the path he needed to take to make it to the… weapon his Ghost had pointed out. The only problem? A creature larger than the ones that had been shooting at him was peering into the gaping holes that led into the storage room he had just been in. "Damn!" His Ghost cried. "I thought they were farther away! We won't be able to-"

A shriek cut through the air. This wasn't alien.

This was human.

Immediately, his head swiveled, looking for the source. Blood started pumping through his veins faster than when his own life was in danger. Someone else needs my help! was the only thought he could muster, and he needed to act on it. Bursting through a window, he ducked and rolled, skidding to a stop after uncurling to stand. Three of the five smaller creatures surrounded a family of four, and they were already moving their electric spears towards them-

He was already moving.

Energy filled him to the brim, pulsing through him like the warm sun on a spring day. He almost didn't notice the lightning flashing across his body, the shock his Ghost seemed to be in, or how black shadows seemed to stretch from him and grab the family, raising them up high. All he saw was his two targets, and his need to protect.

KA-BOOM!

The asphalt had already been caving, but now it rippled backward as the three creatures shrieked in guttural pain before they too were torn into glowing blue light, their bodies and weapons flying in random directions. He turned his attention to the larger being he had been eyeing earlier, and narrowed his eyes. It was over a head taller than him, and it growled in a high-pitched screech. It swung the large barrel it had been carrying toward him, and he smiled.

"Hey, careful!" His Ghost said, "He's a got a shield-"

It slipped out of his tongue before he could wonder why he wanted to say it, but he did. In the blink of an eye, he was before the towering creature and swinging his arm, crackling with energy, the barrier already breaking underneath the pressure of the power behind his punch.

"Detroit… SMASH!"

The shield shattered into light as his fist connected with the crossed swords of the tall monster, it's blue eyes widening before the swords broke and the creature flew. In an almost comical fashion, it screamed in pain before slamming into the wall, breaking the concrete, and falling to the ground, unmoving. The two remaining minions that stood at the window he had leapt out of looked at each other before turning tail, running as they chittered nervously.

Breathing heavily, the lightning coursing through his veins slowed, and the black tendrils that held the family he saved aloft let them down, shrinking into him. Turning to them with a smile, his Ghost graciously dematerialized his helmet. The family stared at him for a moment more before the child yelped in glee and the parents smiled.

"{Thank you!}" The woman-Mother, said, and it sounded like gibberish.

"Whoops, sorry about that," his Ghost muttered, "I haven't tuned your brain to my neurolingual net yet. Aaaaand, there!"

A brief stab of pain went through his mind and he winced, before he spouted something in the same language they had been speaking. "I-It was no problem!" He waved his hands, which vaguely felt sore for some reason. "I was in a bit of a bind, but I saw your family in danger. I couldn't stand by and watch you get hurt while I escaped with my own life." He bowed. "I hope I did not cause you any trouble!"

The child laughed, pointing at him and looking at her parents. "Woah, Mom! He was like whoosh and they were like ahhhh and now we're safe! His quirk is so cool!" She beamed at him and he was almost blinded by it's radiance. "What's your name, mister?"

A wave of melancholy rushed through him, and he staggered a little, the toll of his short fight finally catching up. "W-woah," he said, falling to his knees. The family looked on in worry, and the kid gasped when his Ghost materialized beside him.

"You… you idiot!" His Ghost cried. "You were just revived from a centuries-long nap and the first thing you do is pick a fistfight with some Fallen scavengers! You're basically a glass cannon right now! Do you have any idea how fast you can die right off the bat?!"

"M-mom?"

"Get back honey…"

"B-but-"

"We need to go… now."

His Ghost's words barely registered over the panic the small family was going through, their gaze flickering between his Ghost and him. As if… No, he thought, are they scared of…

"W-wait, I was just trying to-"

Just like when he had rushed to save them, they were already moving. The father had hiked his daughter into his arms, and she waved sadly at him as they scurried away. He watched them grow smaller and smaller until they disappeared into a different set of ruptured streets, and he sighed, his gaze growing blurrier by the second.

What is going on?

He felt a nudge on his forehead, and he raised it to see his Ghost looking at him with pity. "Hey," she said softly. "It... comes with the job."

He frowned, his face twisting into a mess of anger and sadness. "And what was that? Are you finally going to explain all of" -He motioned to himself and her- "this?"

She sighed, drooping in the air. "Not here. Somewhere safer. We need to collect that hand cannon-"

"Nothing you say will convince me to pick a weapon up."

She paused, already hovering in the way of said weapon. "...Why?"

Opening his mouth, he was about to respond when he realized he didn't actually know why… it just felt right. Like something that he shouldn't do. Couldn't do. "I- I just can't. I don't know."

His Ghost nodded, seemingly accepting his answer. "That's alright. We'll talk about it. For now, hold on to that picture of yours, and let's find shelter. It'll give you strength." She clucked, the photo shimmering into existence in his hands, before heading back to him and dissolving into nothing. "I'll lead the way."

~TLLM~

With the Sun's light casting a golden hue in the room, he settled down, bringing some of the materials his Ghost had mentioned together to make the beginnings of a fire. Old planks lay against the peeling wallpaper of the mossy office room, and he sat against the wall, staring at the picture in his hands.

He'd done his best to wipe it clean, but centuries of grime still stuck to its surface. He ventured to think that it was likely irremovable until he found water or something stronger to scrub it. Still, the image encased within was somewhat visible, and he stared intently at what he could see.

It was him, he was sure of it, standing beside a woman. He couldn't see her face yet, there was too much gunk, but he could see the joy frozen on his face, an expression that spoke of love and devotion. His heart tugged, and he sighed, lowering the picture.

There in the middle of the room, his Ghost had sparked the fire, bringing warmth. She turned her eye towards him and floated over. "We should be safe here. If anyone sees us, they'll try and avoid us." She looked out the window next to him. "Usually, scavengers and refugees try not to interact with anyone they aren't sure about."

He watched as she settled closer to him, her shell whirling around her in anticipation. He couldn't wait any longer.

"Why did that family seem so scared of me?" He looked at his Ghost with sadness. "All I did… I just started moving without thinking. I-I wanted to help."

His Ghost sighed, levitating a piece of wood into the growing fire before turning to him. "There's some bad blood between the Risen and those who have grown up in the wake of the Collapse."

"Bad blood?" He thought for another second. "So I'm one of those 'Risen,' then?"

Ghost nodded. "When the first Risen came to be, many of them took their newfound immortality and powers for granted, and abused them to take control of the world at the time." Out of her eye, a holographic globe appeared, shining with points all across it's continents. "They began to claim territories, terrorize those without the Light, and war amongst themselves, rightly earning them the name of 'Warmongers'."

"What happened?"

There was a pause as Ghost tried to put it into words, and she blinked, the hologram fading. "The Dark Heroes happened." The hologram appeared again, this time with another colour that controlled a fraction of the territory the Warmongers did, but they shined twice as bright. "A group of Risen that weren't afraid to protect those who didn't have their immortality or enhanced ability. They were the precursors to what Guardians now are: Protectors of Humanity." The hologram faded once more and she turned to him. "One person, for the time he was alive, led the cause, until he died and was resurrected."

One more image appeared of a solemn-faced man in light armour, barrel-shaped attachments on his forearms and spiky hair. "His name is only whispered of in the annals of time, but he was first of the Dark Heroes, traveled with a group of Risen he deemed 'strong enough', and truly, they were strong to survive his explosive temper, which isn't an exaggeration." She blinked and the picture dissipated. "He had one of the most powerful quirks that survived the Collapse, that only grew in strength with his Risen status, and he used it to fight the Darkness that had corrupted those first Risen."

With flourish, she nodded. "Nowadays, rumour says he's survived to live until now, even after the Dark Heroes were nearly exterminated by the last living Warmind. But that's another story."

She then coughed, and he got the sense that she was embarrassed. "Uh, sorry, got carried away there." He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. His Ghost laughed. "Flying solo for centuries can only entertain you so much. I've gotten good at telling stories to myself."

That sparked something in him. Finally, he couldn't contain himself, and he asked the question he'd been holding since he woke up. "Who and what are you, really?" He blurted.

For a moment, she paused, before giggling. "Oh my, finally a question that I know how to answer! I've been waiting since I was conceived to be asked this, so I'll gladly answer your question!" She flexed her fins, as if puffing up in pride. "I am your Ghost! I have been searching the worlds of Sol for a Spark, and I found one inside you." She looked pointedly at him. "The Traveler has sent many Ghosts since the Collapse, and I am one of many. As of now, I do have a name, but should you wish, I can be assigned one, and I shall abide by it! I am your Ghost, after all."

There were so many questions running through his mind now, but he still needed to know more. Biting back the other questions he had, he nodded toward her. "What can you do?"

If she could smirk, he was sure she would be doing that right now. "Well, many things. After your first resurrection, courtesy of moi, I can revive you within reason! As long as where I am is sufficiently sourced with Light, you will come back!" Her tone softened, her chipper attitude failing. "If there is no Light, all I can do is heal you, and even then, sometimes I can't. At that point, you'll have to survive until you reach another place with enough Light for me to help you." She then whirled around him excitedly. "And that's also why you are in better shape now than you were half an hour ago!"

She seemed to bow, bobbing in the air before looking back up at him. "I am your personal library, medic, guide, and resurrector." She twirled, spinning once before wiggling her shell. "Your humble Ghost!"

He sat there, staring. "W-wow, that was quite an explanation."

His Ghost giggled, before looking away bashfully. "Well, I've waited many years to finally find you." The edges of her shell perked up. "I've practiced a lot."

He hummed. "So, you said you had a name already. What do others call you, then? I've only been calling you Ghost in my mind, and now I realize that's a little unfair."

She blinked. "Uh, well, it's alright. You can assign me one." She laughed nervously. "I mean, my name isn't that important when others call me by it. It's more important what you think."

He frowned. "Are you ashamed of your name?"

The Ghost shook from side to side. "No, not at all! I just…" She sighed. "It was given to me by another Ghost. It's a little embarrassing."

"I don't see the problem."

"Well, you wouldn't, would you?" She snarked. "You just came back from the dead, after all."

That phrase stung a little more than he thought it would. She must've realized what she said because she quickly began waving up and down. "Oh no, I'm sorry! Please don't leave me, I just found you! All the other Ghosts will laugh if I just-"

She was cut off by a snort, followed by a chuckle, and finally by soft laughing. She sagged as he gripped his sides trying to hold it in. Before long, he slowed, and patted his Ghost softly. "H-hey, no worries! It looks like you're all strung up and still excited about finding me!" He smiled brightly, and watched as she perked up. "For your little jab, though, I really would like to know the name of my personal Ghost."

"I guess…" She groaned, ending in a sigh. "The name I am most known by is 'Nozomi.'"

"'Nozomi,' huh?" He smiled, finally able to put a name to his Ghost. "How about I nickname you 'Nami'? Because you're just a wave of optimism, aren't you?" He grinned. "I also don't want you to lose the name others already have for you, so win-win, eh?"

Nami stayed silent for a moment, before cheering and dancing in the air. "Woohoo! Haha!" She zoomed around the room, bobbing to a silent song. "Nami! Nami! I have a real name! Woohoo!" She proceeded to begin nuzzling his face, and he erupted in red. "I love you! You don't know how long I've been waiting for this day! Oh, this is great!" She then gasped. "And I still have my other name! That's crazy!" She began spinning as she rose to the ceiling. "Wait 'til the other Ghosts hear about this! ~Oooooooooh!"

Feeling elated, he watched her happily float along, whistling a tune as she danced and danced. Soon, however, his smile began to wane, and the emptiness he had been feeling since waking up returned, and he turned his attention back to the picture in his hands. He turned the thin block over, and brushed at the writing found there in a language he could somehow still read.

"I-ku M-d-iy- and Och-o -r-ka

En-ag-ent P-rt-"

It was still somewhat illegible, but he could make out the strokes that made the words… and his vision fogged. He soon realized that Nami had stopped celebrating, and he sniffled as he saw her watching him closely.

"I'm… sorry. I was so caught up in my own joy that I didn't realize…" Nami floated closer. "That's Golden Age Japanese," Nami said, looking at the writing. A soft light beamed from her eye and scanned the block. "I got a read on the ink underneath the surprisingly durable plastic and centuries-old decay. Whoever made this knew what they were doing." She cleared her non-existent throat. "It says 'Izuku Midoriya and…" She let out a soft gasp. "...Ochaco Uraraka, Engagement Party.'"

"Is that my name?" he asked, eyes glittering. "'Izuku Midoriya'?" He then noticed the silence Nami was in, and he frowned. "Nami?"

"Y-yes?" Nami said, snapping out of it. "Yes! It would seem so. The fact that you even have a connection to the past is already amazing enough as it is, Izuku, so this is just crazy!" She laughed a little hysterically. "A-and you were… engaged to Ochaco Uraraka… wow…"

For some reason, the realization of his lost name seemed to only fill up half of the hole in his soul, and he felt a lump fill his throat and an ache fill his heart. He turned the picture over again to look at the woman he- the past Izuku was holding in his arms. "W-who's Ochaco Uraraka?"

Just saying the name and asking that question made him want to both cry and smile. But… why?

The newly re-christened Izuku watched as Nami seemed to debate with herself on what she should do before resolving on turning toward him. "Ochaco Uraraka was the heir to UrarakaTech. She died not long after the Collapse, and many years ago, she was resurrected and chose the path of a Hunter, fighting for the survival of the Last City." She looked him in the eye. "At the Battle of Twilight Gap, her Ghost took a hit, and before anyone knew what happened, she was gone."

Nami looked at the glossy-eyed Izuku with a solemn tone. "No one knows where she is if she's still alive, and she's left a legacy that many still try to follow to this day."

Izuku gulped, gripping the picture closer to his chest as he stared at his Ghost with sorrow. "She's- I mean, she was brought back too?"

"Yes."

"And no one knows if she's dead or alive?"

"...Yes."

Bringing the picture out again, watched as water splashed onto the picture, and he wiped it away along with the wave of deja vu he felt. Even through the grime, he could see Ochaco's beaming smile. A smile he knew, for some reason, he needed to see again. With new fervor, he looked up at Nami.

"Where's the Last City?"


The figure stood silently, staring at the console as tears began dripping onto it's rusty surface. A low buzz filled the air that was just previously filled with sounds of shouting and arguing. Sounds from a recording that dated back to the beginnings of the Collapse. A recording that one Ochaco Uraraka had been in. With no amount of grace, the figure brushed the hood back and grabbed their head, revealing hair that was trimmed to a bowl cut and a face flushed red.

Ochaco Uraraka, Legendary Defender of Twilight Gap, a Hunter of the highest caliber, and presumed to be dead, collapsed onto the console, sobbing uncontrollably. Her body shook. Her breaths were short. She couldn't think. She couldn't see. All she felt was the raging tempest of emotions that threatened to boil over and spill into a million pieces of shattered glass.

For a long moment, all Ochaco could do was heave, her wails echoing in the confines of the bunker she had broken into. A small being materialized beside her, and it floated down to rest on her shoulders. Ochaco curled inward, hugging her legs to her chest, and she wept.

"..." She murmured, her voice muffled, yet her Ghost seemed to understand.

"Yes. I got the recording saved to my database." Her Ghost then nudged her, peering at her worriedly. "Please, Ochaco, say something."

"No!" She cried, throwing one of her weapons at her Ghost. It quickly dodged before tittering.

"H-hey, you almost hit me!"

"Good!" Ochaco growled, pushing her forehead into her knees. "I wish I had never been resurrected! I wish I could've stayed where I was, where I was meant to be!" She lifted her head and glared venomously at the Ghost, her eyes puffy and glossy. "I wish you'd never've found me!"

Her Ghost looked taken aback, hesitating backwards from Ochaco. "...D-don't say that Ochaco," her Ghost whispered. "You've saved so many lives already. You've brought Golden Age technology to the present! You saved the Last City-"

"At what cost, Deku?!" Ochaco cried, gripping the console as she struggled to get up. Her legs were shaking and everything was tingling, but she grit her teeth and stared at Deku with all the hatred she could muster. "My memories? My past? My forever?!"

She threw her left hand up, and on it glinted a tarnished ring, it's gemstone cracked but clear for all to see. "I was never meant to come back!" She gripped the chair in front of her, activated her quirk, ripped it off it's bearings and threw it at a wall. The chair crumpled, and sparks flew. "I was meant to stay dead!" She grabbed her knives and started throwing them at the screens. Some of them clattered to the ground as she collapsed to the ground, the knives she held clattering to her side, and she heaved, gripping at the cluttered metal floor.

Pounding at the floor, Ochaco hung her head. "I w-was s-supposed to live a h-happy life, Deku…" She gasped, looking up to her Ghost with pleading eyes. "W-why?"

"...I don't have all the answers, Ochaco," Deku said, floating down to her. "But when I found you all those years ago, I told you something. It was the reason why you named me this way, remember?" He hovered down, gesturing gently towards her. "You had just risen. And you were panicking. What did I say?"

She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head softly. "I…" It was forever ago. A distant memory, yet clear as day. How could she forget the day she woke up in a broken universe? She could remember the same darkness every Guardian experienced during their first resurrection. The infinite expanse of oblivion, as if one were being woken from a long nap. The confusion, the dismay, and the loss.

She stared at the ground, subconsciously thumbing the ring on her ring finger. "You s-said that 'I could do it'... because I d-didn't know if I wanted to risk my own life again to protect people." Ochaco looked up at Deku. Her lip still trembling, she wiped her eyes and crawled to the wall, sitting up against it. Deku floated closer and settled himself into her hands as she examined him. "And now I know some subconscious part of me still held onto… onto my past… who I used to be… the person that inspired me… and so I named you Deku…"

Ochaco whispered a question, so softly it was almost just a thought. "Why'd you pick me?"

"I've explained it a dozen times already." Her Ghost chuckled quietly. "But since it's your birthday…"

Her face reddened more, as if it wasn't already red from her breakdown. "Deku…!"

"Okay, okay! It was a joke…" He sighed, settling further into her hands. "I saw your Light. It was one among many Sparks, but yours was the one that called to me." His eye looked up at her. "Your soul was one filled with sorrow and heartbreak. But there was strength there. A pull that, I soon learned afterward, many other Ghosts had experienced, as if you had your own gravitational field."

He sighed. "There was nothing to it, like every other Risen out there. I found you, and you bonded with me."

A silence filled the air; peaceful, but tense. As she regained her composure, Ochaco hummed, holding her Ghost close. He really had been her only companion over the many lonely years she'd spent hunting her past, and after making it to Mars, she'd finally found a major piece.

Waking up with just an ID tag and a ring was more than many others could say.

How many years ago was that? She couldn't count. She couldn't be bothered. It didn't matter to her, because all that mattered was regaining her lost self. Who she was before.

A blink. Another. "Deku."

"Yes?"

"Reiterate 'Risen Entry: Ochaco Uraraka' to me."

Her Ghost blinked, but sighed with compliance. "Sure thing. 'Ochaco Uraraka:' The heir to the UrarakaTech interplanetary corporation. Quirk: Zero Gravity; With the pads on her fingers, she can nullify the effects of gravity on an object, including herself. Perished near the Tokyo Cosmodrome, in the [REDACTED] Warmind bunker; Reason: Unknown. Resurrected by [Deku]. Personal items found on revival: A decaying tungsten-carbide ring with a cracked emerald-ruby inset; an ID tag for one Ochaco Uraraka; pieces to a legacy Golden Age smartphone." He looked at Ochaco dubiously. "Did I miss anything?"

"No, no…" She shook her head, thinking. "Now play the beginning of our new recording."

Deku, slightly shocked, complied without comment and began playing it. She hid the despair she felt with her past self, and listened carefully to her interaction with...

"There!" She clicked her tongue, standing up. "I think… we need to find Rasputin. We need to ask him some questions." She snapped her fingers and her brows furrowed as her eyes glinted. With a determined grin, she punched the air. "We're going to find ourselves the last living Warmind!"

"...You're joking, right?" Deku gestured wildly with his shell, whirling as he bobbed warningly. "Rasputin has killed Guardians just for entering territory controlled by him! You know how hard it is to kill a Guardian! He single-handedly brought down the Iron Lords! And he's not just any Warmind,he's the last Warmind, and the smartest. He probably already knows we're… looking for him…"

Ochaco's energy vanished, and a menacing aura replaced her otherwise innocent visage. Deku retreated slightly, overwhelmed by her piercing gaze. "Am I joking?" Her smile broadened, and her aura grew. "Am I joking?! Of course not, Deku! This is one of the final pieces to the puzzle of my past life! I know it! Clearly, I had a connection with Rasputin, so we need to use that." She gestured to herself wildly. "After all, I am the living, breathing, and amazing Ochaco Uraraka! Who else could do it?!"

With almost hysterical fervor now, she pointed at her Ghost. "You've told me all these years 'I could do it.' I freakin' named ya after it!" Jabbing at Deku, Ochaco glared unfailing into his singular eye.

"Are you in or are you in!?"

Deku sighed and accepted his fate. "I can't stop you. I can only tell you that, apart from faking your death, running solo all these years, and beginning this hunt for your past, this is perhaps the stupidest idea you've ever had."

"And the best idea!" She smiled, her eyes wide with the shine of a thousand suns. With one swift movement, she kicked up her gun, holstered it, and ran around the room, picking up her knives. She pumped her fist and stood at the doorway, facing Deku. He sighed, following and lighting the way before her.

"After all…" Her features softening, she eyed the broken ring on her hand and brought it to her lips, resting it there and closing her eyes. "I'll get to rest easy, after all these years, finally knowing who to look for…"

She opened her eyes, and a fire was lit that would never again be doused.

"...Izuku Midoriya."


A/N: I wanted this to be over 6k, but I couldn't fit more without spoiling what I want to do with coming chapters. This might also be the last we'll see of Ochaco for a while, so look out for clues! I also didn't think I'd get another chapter out this fast, so don't expect it all the time! In any case, tell me what you think, and I love reading you all speculate!

And so, again, Review, please! It helps me see how my story is being received and what I can do to improve. Thanks everyone!