'Mutant Quirks are both the most common and many researchers have argued that they are more perplexing than warp quirks. Mutant quirks are very often inheritable and change the genetic structure of those who express them. It is very likely that in under five generations, homo sapiens as a species will die out, and all individuals will be some form of mutant. What is odd is that by the second generation they stop operating as a quirk i.e. they are the new genetic standard for future generations. Second and third generation mutant express Quirks of their own and this has raised the question…'
—Excerpt from 'The Beginner Scientist's Guide to Quirk Theory.
The water runs red. Izuku presses his thumb against one nostril and exhales sharply out the other, watching a wad of blood land in the water—It's just normal blood, no legs. The water soothes his aching face. He sees his reflection in the mirror. Streak of white hair? Check. Braids on one side? Check. Bruise on half his face? Double check.
There are painkillers in the cabinet and he takes more than he probably should. But fuck if it didn't hurt. He doesn't have the time to dive for the eye this late in the morning. Maybe he should have been paying more attention during his run this morning. He might not have tripped and wiped out on the pavement.
It's embarrassing, frankly, that he is still so clumsy on occasion. It looks like he's taken a punch straight to the face. Which is true if you consider the pavement to be a fist. He doesn't bother with gauze and bandages. The scrapes are light and long ago clotted. So long as no one punches him in the face then he'll be fine.
He doesn't meet Shinsou on the train. It doesn't worry Izuku much. He probably slept in and considering that his friend always looks halfway to the grave, Izuku is glad. The class is only partially full. He doesn't particularly know any of the students inside right now other than Tokoyami who's glare is hot enough that Izuku flinches.
"Who'd you lose a fight to?" a boy who he thinks is called Sero asks.
To life, the voice says and with it comes an assault of voices no human could make, voices that sound like gamma radiation and speak of a time before light existed.
He swallows, shrugs, and takes his seat. There is enough time that he retrieves the deck of cards he always keeps in his bag. He shuffles them to calm his nerves and then practices a few basic tricks. The voices remain but he can ignore them better like this.
"Midoriya," a steady voice calls. He looks up and sees Ojiro. The boy's smile fades. "What happened?"
Izuku sighs. "C-can we skip this part?"
"I didn't mean to—"
"Shit, Midoriya," Kirishima says having just entered. "Who was the last person standing?"
Izuku blinks. "Me?"
"So manly." Kirishima grabs a chair and sits across from Izuku. "Okay, what are we playing? Deal us in." He looks at Ojiro until the boy gets the message and pulls a chair as well.
"I don't know any games," Ojiro admits.
"Blackjack?" he offers since that's simple. "Don't go over twenty-one. Numbered cards keep their value. Aces are eleven or one depending on which screws you over less."
Ojiro shrugs as Izuku deals the cards. "I will try."
"And maybe you should keep your inane prattling to yourself," Tokoyami snarls, and though he speaks to Kirishima his gaze is reserved for Izuku.
Kirishima looks between the two of them. "Come on, class hasn't started. We aren't bothering anyone."
It takes a few minutes for Ojiro to understand the rules a bit better and they'll have to work on his poker face. When Uraraka joins the class, Kirishima moves his chair to make space for her. It doesn't escape Izuku's notice that he's blocking his line of sight of Tokoyami.
"You tripped?" Uraraka asks once she has her cards. "But you've got more balance than me and I was a gymnast."
Izuku rolls his eyes and isn't surprised when Kirishima goes over twenty-one. Counting cards is a useful skill to have.
"It happens."
The class fills psteadily. Oddly, Iida still isn't here. Izuku expected him to be here earlier than anyone else. Somehow, before he can really notice it, someone slides a desk next to his. It's a green-haired girl accompanied by the purple-skinned girl.
"Want to deal us in," the frog-like girl asks, her voice deeper than he expected. "Asui. This is Ashido."
"Hi," Ashido says, waving at the group. She has an accent that he can't place. "How you doing, Kirishima?"
Izuku shrugs and deals out more cards. It would be more relaxing if he couldn't feel Tokoyami's gaze even through Kirishima.
"I like your hair," Asui says.
"Oh, yeah, I never said anything about it," Uraraka says. "I didn't know you were that kind of guy."
He tilts his head. And then remembers his mother braided part of his hair. The streak of white seems to stand out more now that it's hanging on the side of his face.
"My mum did it," he mumbles.
"Oh, that's sweet," Ashido says, looking at Kirishima for some reason. "A lot of guys change their looks out of the blue. Do you just let anyone braid it?"
He shrugs, guesses incorrectly that Kirishima has the ace—no, Ojiro has it. "S-she just did it. I was kinda too tired to care."
"You're a mama's boy, aren't you?" Uraraka teases.
"Hey, there's nothing manlier than respecting your mother," Kirishima says, too hot for it to be a casual remark.
"Midoriya, you're looking fabulous today," the blonde boy, Aoyoma, says, eyes twinkling. "But not as fabulous as me."
The others ignore this, somehow.
"Let's see if we can make it three for three. Ojiro, right?" His friend looks up in concern. "Are you a mama's boy too?"
He's spared from answering as Iida marches in. The boy scans the class and immediately fixates on the group. "What kind of immoral behaviour is this?" he shouts more than he asks. "We're UA students and you're gambling. And you, Midoriya, I expected better from you."
Izuku wilts in his seat. "We're n-not gambling," he says weakly.
"Maybe you can get your degenerate friends to stop being disturbances," Tokoyami says.
Izuku winces as Iida's glare becomes more pronounced. "This behaviour is reprehensible."
"Just chill out, man," Kirishima says. "We've got three minutes until class. We're good."
"Still, gambling is an immoral pastime."
Ashido snickers. "You're so innocent. Fine, let's pack up."
Izuku wants to protest because it means Tokoyami won't be out of sight any longer. But they only have a few minutes until classes start and he doesn't want to annoy Eraserhead for no reason. Kirishima pats him on the shoulder whilst Ojiro smiles.
"Thanks," Asui whispers. "It was fun. And you should get something for your face."
He smiles. When Aizawa enters, the man is in his sleeping bag. His eyes are more bloodshot than usual.
"I was supposed to teach you something today." He yawns. "But I don't really care."
"What!" more than one person screams.
"You children are too loud. Fine, read the first five chapters of your textbook." He rolls his eyes at their blank expressions. "The one on battle tactics. Do the exercises as well."
"This is bullshit," Bakugou curses.
"Is reading a textbook much too hard for you? Did you think UA was simply about playing outside?" Bakugou scoffs, tiny explosions sparking on his palms.
Aizawa stares at him for a long moment, eyes hard. "New rule: anyone who gets an infringement for using their quirk in public spaces gets expelled. I'm telling you this as a courtesy. Please don't be as stupid as last year's class."
The man walks to the door, still in his sleeping bag. "Oh, and Midoriya, come here."
Izuku startles and stands, following Aizawa out the door. The man looks him over once. "How did you get the injury?"
Izuku looks away. "I tripped."
"You tripped?" Aizawa asks, and the disbelief is so evident in his voice that he might as well carry a neon sign.
"It happens."
"Did you get the consent form signed?"
Izuku swallows. "We declined the offer, sensei. My mother doesn't think it's necessary." Well, neither did I.
"Right. And did you trip before or after your mother declined the consent form."
He frowns, unsure of what the has to do with anything. "After."
Aizawa sighs. "Midoriya, I would like you to know that you can come to me if you have any concerns. About anything."
He looks up and meets his teacher's weary gaze. "Umm, sure?"
"Especially if you trip again."
Izuku flushes, wondering if they will ever forget about that. "Yes, sensei."
"Good. Go to the nurse's office and get that bruise checked out. And don't take too long or you'll miss out on class."
"I thought you weren't teaching."
"Think, Midoriya. What reason would I have for lying to your classmates?"
He cocks his head. "To see if they'd read the book without you watching over them," he decides.
"And to talk to you. Asking about the consent form in class would have been a violation of your privacy. You should always attempt to achieve more than one objective at any given time."
Recovery Girl is disappointed that he's here a second time this week. She does heal him but asks him a few questions about the injury, delving into detail. It makes him wonder if she's is worried he might pose a suicide risk. He's very aware of how her gaze lingers on his left forearm but he can't say 'don't worry, I come back from the dead' because that's just asking to be thrown into a mental institution. Or worse, an operating table in a bunker a mile underground where he'll be assigned a number and never see the light of day again.
At lunch, he searches for Shinsou before he grabs his food. The boy is sitting alone in a corner and there is no world in which Izuku will allow that to happen.
"No," he says before Shinsou can greet him. "You sitting alone is not happening. Come on."
He pulls Shinsou by the wrist, and maybe he's getting a few odd stares but none of these stares has seen infinity, so they aren't really worrying.
"You need to stop doing this," Shinsou mutters but there is a certain warmth to it.
Izuku rolls his eyes and approaches the table his friends are sitting around. He plonks Shinsou right next to Ojiro. The tailed boy accepts this easily and moves down the table.
"Good. Now behave," he says, pointing at Shinsou.
The boy rolls his eyes. "Yes, mother," he says which makes Uraraka laugh.
Izuku snorts and sits in the centre of the group, between Kirishima and Iida.
"Not eating?" Iida asks.
Izuku shakes his head. "Not up to it."
"Man, you'll get skinnier if you don't eat." Kirishima pokes Izuku in the bicep a moment before his eyes widen and he grips Izuku's bicep. "You're literally made of muscle."
Izuku bats the boy's hand away, face red. "I'm not."
"You kind of are," Ojiro says. "Punching you is like punching a brick wall."
"There's a story there," Asui says.
"Not much of one," Shinsou answers. "They just go to the same dojo."
"How's about a game of poker," Izuku suggests before they dig any deeper into it. He has no intention of everyone knowing how Ojiro ran circles around him.
Despite Iida's protests, it becomes a thing. In the mornings they play simpler games which require little time or thought but lunch is reserved for poker. Uraraka absolutely terrifies him because her smile is the best poker face he's ever seen. Though Kirishima comes a close second for all that the boy is obsessed with manliness, he certainly knows how to play cards.
Their presence helps soothe his mind. He thinks it mildly manipulative that he's keeping them close for a reason, but it doesn't hurt them—if anything, the fact that Uraraka and Shinsou become fast friends is a positive—and it only helps him.
Near the end of the week, he starts losing track of what is and isn't. Eyes seem to watch him from the wall, judging and finding him wanting. Present Mic's hair reminds him too much of tentacles all of a sudden and the English he tries to teach sounds like the language of a dead god. Tokoyami's baleful gaze is infinitely worse and he feels like a mouse in the jaws of a predator. When his nose bleeds, he asks permission to leave and very nearly bolts from the room, but not without pointing at the right answer.
He shivers in the bathroom, absolutely terrified of the things watching him in the mirrors. Creatures older than time seep out from the shadows. How much of it is real and how much is an imagination doesn't matter, not when an errant tooth cuts him on the wrist. The wound is thin, shallow, and he's thankful he can use the nosebleed as an excuse as to why his cuff is suddenly red.
His hands shake too much to deal cards at the table. He excuses it as a headache from the nosebleed. And whilst Iida lectures him on the dangers of overexertion, Asui and Uraraka braid his hair. He lets them without complaint because at least he knows those fingers are human, warm, and not malevolent. Kirishima stares at him as if he's grown another head.
"You do you. I'm in no place to judge."
Ashido laughs. "You most definitely aren't."
Asui latches on to that and they learn the two went to middle school together. And that Kirishima looked very different.
"Hey, did you go to school with Bakugou?" Uraraka asks. "I've heard him call you Deku before."
Izuku smiles. It feels brittle. "Yeah. Deku's a nickname I got."
"What'd you—"
"Ah, shit, my nose is acting up again." It isn't but they don't need to know that even if he gets the sense Uraraka is being too polite to call him out on it. "See you in class."
He avoids them after school and uses his quirk to hide. He sits in the distorted vision of his room, surrounded by shadows, and wonders just how long he can keep this up. The monsters always seem to lurk but never to this extent. At the very least, the voice is silent though it is ever-present in his mind, watching events play out alongside him.
His mother doesn't question why he's so late. He smiles at her, almost ready to cry. She hugs him and the tears spill. He tells her, between shaky breaths, that he sees the nightmares everywhere he looks. And his friends, despite how kind and generous and real they are, none of them can even begin to understand. She just hugs him tighter.
"We'll get through this," she whispers. "You're my son. I'm never leaving you."
He has a broad smile on the next day. The warmth in it is fake but Shinsou doesn't notice, and if he fails to recognise the lie, then no one else will. And though his back hurts, he lets none of the pain show.
I will, the voice says, and for once Izuku finds that reassuring.
He can always feel the shadows when there is enough contrast, except for odd times like the day of the exam. But he doesn't necessarily recognise them perfectly. Except for Kacchan. He can always feel the boy so long as he is close enough. So, he knows Kaachan is approaching long before he enters the class.
In hindsight, he should have moved out of the way instead of having a conversation with Ojiro and Kirishima. But it was hard to move when they were both berating him for not sending a message to let them know he was staying a bit late at the school library—another lie for he barely even knows the school has a library let alone where it is.
"Get the fuck out of the way, Deku," Kacchan roars.
Deku winces. The three of them are blocking the doorway a bit, even if Ojiro had already been moving out of the way.
"Yo, man—"
"I wasn't talking to a shitty side character," Kacchan snarls, interrupting Kirishima. He reaches out to shove Deku aside. For a terrible moment, he remembers falling down a hill and cracking his skull open.
But the hand never touches him. He sees Ojiro holding Kacchan's wrist in an unyielding grip. "Calm yourself."
"Fuck off." Kacchan pulls his arm out of the grip. Deku can already smell the sickly-sweet scent of nitro-glycerine. "And move."
"Fine," Kirishima says, tugging Izuku aside. "No need to be a dick about it."
Only when Kacchan has stalked past does Deku realise that Kirishima's body is between the two of them. He thinks it unnecessary. After all, he's dealt with Kacchan in an infinitely worse mood. But he appreciates the gesture even if it makes him look weak.
"You shouldn't let people treat you like that," Ojiro says.
Izuku forces a smile, toothy and carefree. He clasps his hands behind his neck to hide how badly they are shaking. "I'm fine."
"That smile is terrifying," Kirishima says and pats him on the shoulder.
When All Might enters Izuku almost has his hands still. The magnificent smile All Might has is radiant and warmer than the sunlight. And it somehow seems brighter for Izuku. He returns it as best he can.
The battle simulation has them all excited, especially since they can wear their hero costumes for the first time.
In the locker room, Izuku takes the case with his costume in it, taking everything off except his underwear and compression shirt. Letting anyone else see the scar on his left hand is not an option. There will be one too many questions from that.
He doesn't pay too much attention to the others—he does notice that Kirishima has abs that make him feel the slightest bit inadequate and the Iida is clearly a proponent of armour.
Inside the case he finds a light-green shirt and matching trousers, both of them hugging his body, and both covered in geometric black lines. The material feels think, well textured, and is exceedingly comfortable. The red belt fits easily and he very much appreciates how the pouches are designed to keep medical equipment—he's been hurt enough times to know how useful a quick bandage can be.
There is a vest, dark as night and heavy, with clips on the shoulders, and angular green lines running down the sides. He shrugs the piece of armour on and zips it up tight. With it is his mask: the bright green cowl with rabbit ears comes on easily; next to it is the metal mouth guard formed of multiple metal plates connected by some sort of elastic material. The mouth guard is form fitting and seems to follow his facial movements. He grins and feels it stretch with him.
Shoes, gloves, and guards for his knees and elbow come one next. He frowns at the voluminous fabric at the bottom. He removes it and unfurls it.
Is that a cape? he thinks incredulously. The base material is black, and it has the same geometric lines as the rest of his costume except in light green. It has two clasps and he knows they will interlock with the ones on his armoured vest. He spots a white mark in a corner. On closer inspection, it reveals a Gaussian integral.
Kaa-san, he thinks with a smile. He wonders if one day he'll ever find the depths of her love and dismisses the idea as impossible.
The cape is weird at first. But as he walks out of the locker room, he understands why she gave it to him. Whenever it flares out, it increases the area of his shadow. It isn't as distracting as he thought it would be. In fact, when a gust of wind makes it flare out completely, he very easily draws shadowmatter from his now very large shadow.
"You look good," Uraraka says. He looks up and sees he is the centre of attention for his group. He flushes and steps back.
"It suits you," Ojiro says.
"I wish I was manly enough to pull off a cape."
The attention makes him want to turn right around and walk straight into the locker room. Iida, it seems, notices this.
"We can admire his costume later," Iida says loudly, drawing back their attention to the front.
When All Might explains the concept of splitting into groups of heroes and villains, Izuku is happy. He loses his smile when his name is drawn alongside Tokoyami. The bird-boy glares at him. They're going up against group B. He sees Ojiro is part of the group.
And then his heart plummets.
"Sir, I don't think this is a good idea," Kirishima says to All Might.
"Everything will be alright," All Might says, then looks to Izuku. "I have faith in a young hero."
Izuku can barely focus with how badly his hands are shaking behind his back, hidden by the cape.
"The fuck did you say," Kacchan roars. "Oh no, this is going to be fun."
Kachan's glare is pure magma and his grin a step away from being feral. "You better get ready, Deku. I'm coming for you."
-TDB-
Izuku wonders exactly which god he pissed off to be in this situation. Tokoyami looks infinitely more intimidating in his jet-black cloak that covers everything from the neck down. And yes, that cloak isn't just dark, but it actively absorbs the light. He wonders which derivative of graphene it uses to achieve the effect. Either way, it must have cost a fortune.
"We need a plan," Izuku ventures.
"Stay out of the way," Tokoyami says harshly, "and don't break anything. You'll just be a liability in combat. After all, your quirk is so hard to control."
Izuku looks away. "I didn't mean—"
"What you say and do is more important than what you mean. You should understand what the shadows do to lies." He scoffs then. "Unless you were lying about knowing the dark as well."
I like him, the voice says.
"I know you're angry at me," Izuku mutters, "but we'll need a plan if we want to win. I know how Kacchan—"
Tokoyami chuckles, darkly. "Your abusive ex-boyfriend?"
Deku opens his mouth. Tries to speak. Fails to find the words.
"Yes, what about him?" Tokoyami prods. "Unless you have nothing to say."
"He's not my b-boyfriend." That, at least, seems like the most important thing to address first. "Are you going to take this seriously?"
Tokoyami sighs as if dealing with a particularly dull child. "You heard him. He's coming for you. Your presence will draw him away and I will acquire the bomb. I hope you are adequate at running."
"What, no, we fight him together or we lo—"
"Heroes," All Might's says through the earpiece. "Planning time is over. Time to infiltrate."
"Keep up," Tokoyami says and then rushes for the door.
Izuku stares at him numbly. When his partner looks over his shoulder, almost as if in challenge, Izuku forces himself to follow. They don't speak as they search through the building though Izuku wants to protest the plan at every stage. The darkness is nearly uniform, not enough contrast for him to get a feel for the place except for the areas near the windows.
It is luck that they happen to be walking towards an outside wall when Kacchan attacks. Izuku pulls Tokoyami to the ground as Kacchan swings around the corner, explosions rocketing him past them.
"Deal with him," Tokoyami roars, shoving Izuku off him. "Follow the plan."
"W-what, no!"
But Tokoyami is already running the way Kacchan came, leaving him to deal with the only real threat in this entire building.
Kacchan cracks his neck, grinning madly. "I'm gonna enjoy this, you lying piece of shit. Quirkless my ass."
"I w-wasn't l-l-lying," he stammers, raising his hands defensively.
"Shut up. You think you're better than me. Fucking show it."
He has barely a second to react before Kacchan is flying in his direction, hand extended and ready to set Deku alight. But he knows this move.
It's how Kacchan always opens.
Deku steps forward, into the attack and not away like Kacchan thought. Overextended, and with his arm past Deku, Kacchan has no way to react to the elbow Deku plants in his gut. Shifting his weight, Deku grabs the arm and flips Kacchan over, slamming him hard into the ground.
Kacchan gasps in pain but rolls away, explosions taking him out of range of Izuku's retaliatory kick.
"How?" Kacchan roars. "You're fucking terrified."
And he's right. His body trembles as he slides into a stance. "Y-you've always terrified me. But I know you. I know e-everything about you."
Kacchan stills, watching him warily, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "You know nothing, Deku," he whispers.
Kacchan soars, at the last moment spinning into a kick. Deku ducks beneath it easily, not caring for the shattered concrete behind him, and rises, punching Kacchan's side. Kacchan groans and immediately retaliates with a right hook amplified by his explosions.
Just as he expected.
He bats aside the hand and it flies above him. He rises from his crouch and his knee slams into Kacchan. Deku rolls away. He feels a shadow shift and barely has time to see Kacchan rushing him without any explosion.
It takes him aback, for he's never seen Kacchan fight without them. And it terrifies him.
His punch is wild, driven by fear.
Kacchan ducks beneath them. His arm lashes out and his palm smacks Deku's side. He has a moment to realise how fucked he is.
The explosion rocks him and sends him flying. It feels like his organs have been jostled around. He slams into the wall, the breath leaving him. The armour took most of the blow but now he can see the shattered ceramic plates beneath the dark fabric.
Instinct makes him drop to the ground just as Kacchan's foot slams into the wall right where Deku's chest had been a moment ago. Deku pushes off the ground with his hands and flicks his leg out.
His shoe hits Katsuki in the chin, lifting him off the ground. He uses the momentum to flip onto the wall and pushes off, tackling Kacchan.
And somehow, despite being disorientated and not even looking at him, Kacchan grabs him first and flips him around. Momentum forces Deku into the wall.
There's something cold and clinical to the way Kcchan moves.
Katsuki's palm strike nearly hits clean if not for Deku's quick cross guard lifting it above his head. Kacchan grins and the same hand he lets off an explosion.
Deku shifts to the side before the blow can hit him. The elbow, more a pneumatic piston now, hits him in the shoulder instead.
The vest takes most of the blow and Deku is thankful because it would have otherwise dislocated his shoulder at best. At worst, it would have broken it.
What the fuck is going on? Deku wonders, backing away to put more distance between them. He knows how Kacchan fights, wild and untamed and driven by instinct. And he is fighting like that except his rage is frigid and calculating.
His blows are still wild haymakers and vicious kicks, but they only come when Deku is exposed. It takes every ounce of skill and ability he has to anticipate where Kacchan will be next. His eyes reflect his rage, a cold dagger through the chest instead of his usual inferno.
Deku takes another explosion to the chest and decides he can't win, at least not like this.
"I thought you knew me, Deku," Kacchan says, sounding murderous. "I'm going to break you. Use your fucking quirk. What happened to wanting to be a hero?"
I think we're fucked, the voice says. Run?
Deku does. He slips through doorways, ducking and weaving. He has the advantage of knowing roughly where Kacchan is whenever his shadow passes through a lit area. Soon enough, he can't feel Kacchan's shadow and takes the stairs.
He taps the earpiece. "Tokoyami, you need to help me," he whispers.
"Dealing with the bomb," his partner snarls. "Deal with your boyfriend."
And then the communication cuts off. "Shit." He runs because Kacchan's going to be coming up the stairs in moments.
"Deku!" he roars. "You can't hide without cover."
What? Both he and the voice question.
The explosion that comes next is the largest Deku has ever felt. The floor shakes and the sound makes him think a bomb has gone off. He hears walls shatter and concrete break well before he feels the way the darkness vanish before the oncoming light.
He pivots on the spot and draws all the shadows he's gathered into a shield. The shockwave hits him. His shield lasts for a second before shattering but that is enough to divert most of the power.
"Tokoyami, please," he begs before Kacchan is in front of him.
Deku pirouettes around his blow and punches him in the side. Kacchan grins and traps his arm. HIs headbutt takes Deku by surprise, his nose crunching from the impact. Blood streams from his broken nose. Kacchan lets go and Deku stumbles back.
The palm strike to the gut winds him. The explosion after sends him flying back.
"You're going to die if you don't use your quirk," Kacchan warns, his rage burning. "You saw what one gauntlet did. I'm going to fucking blow you away with the other."
Terror grips Deku as Kacchan raises one hand in a fist. "W-what will it prove," he stammers, crawling back in terror. "That you beat me. Everyone knows you're stronger."
"You just don't get it. You think you can say the shit you say and run. Now fucking use your quirk!"
"Tokoyami," he screams.
And then Kacchan moves.
Time seems to slow.
Okay, he always starts with a right hook, Izuku thinks, ready to dodge the other direction.
He's fighting differently, the voice warns.
Oh, Izuku realises, and finally understands. He's planning around my moves. The right punch is a feint. It's too telegraphed to be anything else.
He dodges into Kacchan's right punch, already prepared to block the attack coming from the other side.
Except none comes.
His eyes widen, and he realises he's made a mistake. Kacchan's eyes are wild and hot, not cold or calculating. And maybe, just the slightest bit terrified.
He feels the shockwave first. It slams into him like a freight train and sends him flying. And then he feels the heat, searing and excruciating. His face burns.
Izuku screams, his howl rending the air. He clutches at his metal mouth guard, fingers shaky and he fumbles badly. It feels fused to his skin and the hot metal burns his fingers. He rips it off, not caring that it pulls skin off.
He roars in pain.
And then the darkness takes him.
-TDB-
Fumikage Tokoyami is many things. He has spent so long battling the darkness within him that he is calm, collected. He must be strong every day of his life. His quirk is a danger, and everyone has always reminded him. His mother, overbearing and smothering, never let him go a day without a simple reminder of what he can do if he is anything but perfectly collected. And his father, coldly indifferent, is whom he seeks to emulate. That stoicism, that indifference to the world around you, is his final goal only so long as he directs it towards Dark Shadow's influence.
Dark Shadow is his first and oldest companion—sometimes a friend in the light and always an enemy in the night. And, if he is being honest, his only friend. Losing control once meant he has been homeschooled. He doesn't know how to make friends, not really. And though he finds Shouji a perpetual fount of calm, and both Sero and Kaminari—Idiot Zapper—include him in their jokes, he isn't sure if he can call them friends.
But he knows for a fact that Izuku Midoriya is not a friend. He still seethes at the boy's idea that his quirk was easy to control. Controlling Dark Shadow is a constant battle, one he is always on the edge of losing.
The entity fed on his emotions; amplified the negative and ate the good. It is more docile in the day. But something about Midoriya's presence makes it stronger. More spiteful.
He listened to its warning that Midoriya wasn't simply seeking kinship from another in the shadows. The boy wasn't the first to try to learn more of his quirk. There have been doctors in the past who looked to learn exactly what Dark Shadow is, not to aid him, but to utilise it for their own ends. And if the boy really is connected to the shadows, then he could not be allowed to learn more, not when he is an antagonist.
"Tokoyami, you need to help me," Midoriya says through the earpiece. His voice is weak, breathless, and whisper-like. It grates at his senses.
Don't listen to him, Dark Shadow warns. You saw what he did to the zero-pointer.
One boy in a green tracksuit. The robot that Fumikage fled from. A single glorious kick. The death of a colossus.
If he could face that then he could deal with a simple human. And if abused-half-of-relationship couldn't win against his boyfriend, then he could at least distract Lord Explosion Murder.
"Dealing with the bomb," he says and lets Dark Shadow pull him away from Ojiro's blow. "Deal with your boyfriend."
The tailed boy is fast and agile, and his instincts are good enough that he keeps Fumikage from getting any closer to the bomb. Every time Fumikage tries to use Dark Shadow as a distraction, Evolutionary Failure is in his face with a punch. And after the first one that nearly knocked him out, he's too wary to believe he can take another blow.
The ground shakes. He nearly trips if not for Dark Shadow pulling him off the ground and anchoring to the wall. Ojiro's eyes are wide, his face pale.
"Bakugou, don't," he shouts in worry and looks to Fumikage. "We need to stop this now."
Fumikage scoffs. "I'm not foolish enough to fall for that."
"Then take the bomb," Ojiro says and turns to the door.
And then, "Tokoyami!"
The shrill voice freezes him to the spot. It sounds like an animal howling, all anguish and despair. It is nothing like an animal brought to the slaughter that knows its fate—that is rage against injustice, a yearning to survive perhaps. But this is fear and terror.
It's just a trick. Do not believe his lies.
He meets Ojiro's gaze and realises he might have just underestimated the situation.
Another roar nearly deafens him. It is what he thinks an animal that just bit through its leg to escape a trap would sound like. A sense of victory, yes, to live another day. Heart-wrenching pain at the act of self-mutilation. And a sort of slow horror at the realisation of what it had just done. Living for a few more moments in exchange for being easy prey to any predator.
He's out the door without a word to Ojiro. He knows where the stairs are and heads to them. "Dark Shadow, now," he orders.
Except it does nothing. No. I will not let you help it.
"You vile serpent," he hisses and takes the stair five at a time.
The floor below them is a picture of devastation. There is rubble from the collapsed walls blocking the way. Smoke wafts from fires still burning and the light from the gaping hole is blinding. He can make out Bakugou standing above the still form of Midoriya. He seems to be staring at his hands in a daze.
Ojiro dashes past him, his tail making it easier to get past the rubble. He shoves Bakugou aside and reaches Midoriya.
"Oh, fuck," he curses, horrified. "No, no, no, no."
Fumikage can understand. Through Ojiro's hunched form as he checks the boy for a pulse, Fumikage can see what has become of Izuku's face. The skin on the right side of his face is shrivelled away from heat, entire sections torn away to reveal the layers of fat and muscle beneath. Even in unconsciousness, Izuku's faces is contorted in pain. Each small movement pulls at the burnt flesh. His stomach churns as an unconscious groan pulls a strand holding two bits of skin together, and he watches them flap eerily in the wind.
There is no blood, thankfully, for Fumikage would not have been able to stay so composed. His costume has been burnt away and the force of the explosion has scattered the shards of ceramic from Izuku's vest across the floor, and some into his torso. Ojiro places pressure on the largest shard, where Izuku bleeds badly, crying all the while.
This is my fault.
He deserves—
Silence.
His hands tremble as he reaches his earpiece to call for All Might. Or someone, anyone who can fix this. He need not have bothered.
All Might appears in a gust of wind, his face grim and devoid of any smile. It is the first time he's ever considered that the hero could be anything less than jolly. And it is terrifying to know this is the man villains face, a man of unbelievable strength and conviction.
The two robots he had been carrying are placed near Izuku and the hero pulls Ojiro back. One sprays something on Izuku's face whilst the other plunges an anaesthetic in a part of his neck that isn't blackened. He watches as they apply a foam that instantly hardens into his bleeding wounds and gently place him on the stretcher.
"Tokoyami," All Might says flatly. "Aizawa will be here soon. I will stay with Midoriya."
He nods shakily as All Might follows behind the robots, his posture tense. He looks like a man on the edge, ready to snap.
That leaves him with Ojiro, who's white outfit is stained red, and Bakugou who stares at his hands.
Ojiro takes a heaving breath. "You did this," he says quietly, staring at Bakugou. "You're a fucking monster." That is the first time Tokoyami has ever heard the boy say anything impolite.
Lord Explosion Murder looks up. "I didn't—"
Ojiro moves, startling them all. He has Bakugou by the throat and looks murderous. "You meant to do it," he snarls, shaking in rage. "You chose to do it. Don't make excuses."
Bakugou breaks Ojiro's grip. "Don't touch me."
I need to stop this, Tokoyami thinks because Ojiro looks ready to kill. Dark Shadow, stop them.
Nah, I'm not your slave, his perpetual companion, currently his enemy, says as the two circle around each other.
Do it!
It obeys, thankfully. He feels his energy drain as Dark Shadow lashes out and grabs Bakugou by the waist, pulling him away from them. Fumikage wraps his arms Ojiro's torso whilst the boy is distracted.
"Stop this," he orders.
"Don't touch me," Bakugou roars, an explosion hitting Dark Shadow.
He feels the demon weaken. It wants to come back and get away from the light. Fumikage doesn't permit that. He allows it to take energy from him though it makes him stagger.
The next explosion sets Ojiro off. He thrashes out of Tokoyami's grips and charges Bakugou.
"Enough!"
Long bandages wrap around Ojiro and fling him to the side. It isn't enough to hurt him or even make him fall, but it does place him further away from Bakugou.
Aizawa's hair is high, his expression carefully blank. His bright red eyes focus on Bakugou. "Stand down, Bakugou," he says, gently, almost as if speaking to a trapped animal. "Don't make this any worse for yourself."
The boy's shaking becomes worse. It is then that he realises it isn't rage but fear.
Let him fear, crow prince.
Silence, viper.
"I didn't mean to." Bakugou looks to his hands, seeing them for the first time. They clench and unclench. "He wasn—"
"I can't help you if you don't calm down. Take a deep breath." Tokoyami watches astonished as Bakugou does exactly that. "And Ojiro, don't you dare attack him. Go to the first floor right now."
Tokoyami looks and sees Ojiro tensed and in a crouch. The boy has his teeth bared but he rises. Stiffly, he turns and walks to the stairs. It amazes Tokoyami that the boy still has the composure to listen.
Bakugou collapses to the ground. Aizawa sighs, his hair falling back into place. Tokoyami watches him kneel beside Bakugou and say something, his words getting Bakugou to stop shaking.
Midnight finds them like that. Aizawa looks to her. "Take him to the teacher's lounge," he says, helping Bakugou up. He isn't looking at anything, eyes darting around everywhere.
"Cementoss has the rest," she tells Aizawa and takes custody of Bakugou. "You good?"
"We'll deal with this." Aizawa frowns when she is gone. "Get to class, Tokoyami."
He tilts his head in consideration. It is the reasonable option. "No," he says finally and kneels. "I do not believe I will."
"That was an order."
He picks the dark cape off the floor. It is burnt in one corner and scuffed badly, but aside from that, it is relatively unharmed. The light green shapes have no meaning to him and yet, he finds himself captivated by them all the same.
"One which I will respectfully decline." He stands, cape in hand. "And I will accept any punishment you deem necessary, but I failed in my duty as an ally. This is my fault."
"No, it isn't. You do not choose how other people react."
Tokoyami nods his head. "It was my plan that Midoiya should distract Bakugou. I made it out of spite and pettiness, knowing full well that Midoriya would be the target of his rage. I abandoned him and ignored his pleas for help. I have a debt of honour I can never repay. That burden lies solely on my shoulders."
"And when have you led before?" Aizawa asks. "What experience do you have leading a team, Tokoyami? Are you a brilliant tactician? You are meant to learn that here. And you could never have known what would happen."
He looks away, his eyes burning. He refuses to cry. To do so is to grant Dark Shadow another weakness to latch onto.
"Please, sensei."
He meets Aizawa's stern gaze. The man will have to tie him up and drag him away if he expects Tokoyami to simply leave.
Eventually, he nods. "Fine."
He's never had to find the nurse's office before. But he can simply follow the occasional droplets of blood. He raises a hand to knock on the door. Before he can, fear grips him, irrational and false. He closes his eyes and slides to the ground, clutching Midoriya's cape tight to his chest.
In this empty hallway, no one can see him cry. No one, except Dark Shadow.
A/N:
I'm not sure whether or not I should be in my underground bunker after this.
That's all from me for now. Thank you for reading this. If you enjoyed the story leave a favourite and if you have any questions just drop a review. But know all of that is unnecessary, and as always your readership is quite enough for me. Cheers.