On is the first pillar. This is reciprocity. It means to acknowledge and repay the debts one owes. The debts that bind us are the foundation of any society. Power itself is a debt [Who owes this debt, Dark Shadow?] that is owed to those who are powerless. The great heroes of prior ages embodied this ideal as they fought with the great powers to protect the masses harmed by dictators and warlords. In turn, the freed masses used the energies to build a better world atop the foundation made by the great heroes.
—Excerpt from 'The Pillars of Moral Heroics' by Ryo Asuka and annotated by Fumikage Tokoyami.
The complex is on the outskirts of Mustafu and in a gated part of the city. In many booths and in security rooms, Fukmikage Tokoyami can see guards carrying rifles—hopefully of the rubber bullet variety. The only unifying factor of the guards is that they all have mutations and wear white ceramic animal masks instead of regular helmets.
He presents a seal with UA's insignia and an official government letterhead at the first checkpoint. The woman there inspects him thoroughly, patting him down, running his back through an X-ray scan and forcing him to show Dark Shadow so that even the demon might be evaluated.
Fumikage bears this peaceably. He can fault many things but not diligence. He has seen security failures on the news and knows the dangers of anything less than professionalism.
He is led to a waiting room where a man sits behind a desk, burning orange eyes drooping with weariness. He has a thick layer of short fur on his arms and neck and head. Nothing extreme compared to many other mutations.
"Sign this form," the man says, sliding the form towards Tokoyami.
He takes it. "What does it cover?"
"Privacy agreement. You don't say anything about the quirks these kids have, and you don't disclose any of their information."
He pauses at one clause. "Formal censure on my heroics file for a minor violation of personal information." He flips the page over. "Expulsion if I reveal their quirks. And legal action up to, but not totally inclusive of charges of endangerment of minors, assisted homicide in the event of death and… charges of treason."
"It's a lot of responsibility." The man smiles sadly. "But I think you'll understand when you see them. We just need to protect them from negative influences."
"I very much doubt Aizawa-sensei would send me here if he had worries I would be unable to handle the responsibilities." He signs the form, his signature elegant. "And if I were to hazard a guess, the children very likely have mutant quirks."
The man nods once more and takes the form back. The back of his hand has quills, tiny and sharp, not thick mammalian fur as Tokoyami once thought. "Let's go see the kids."
He shows Tokoyami through the complex. One thing he notes is how everything is reinforced: a hole that looks to have been caused by a punch shows extensive layers of steel mesh between layers of concrete and a shock-absorbent material; the ground, though solid wood on the surface, shows cement where a deep gash runs across the ground; and the structural support pillars look to be made of a polymorphic material the emits a pleasant hum when Tokoyami bumps into it.
"It's a simple way to keep track of them," the man explains after helping Tokoyami up. "Outside of following the destruction."
"Are they always so… rambunctious?"
The man has Tokoyami enter his biometrics into a machine at the end of a hallway. He even has Dark Shadow do so, and though the demon complains, a deep thrum of interest emanates from it.
"The area past here is where we let them play without restriction. Be prepared for projectiles."
The door is unlocked and Tokoyami gets his first view of the space. It is indoors like the rest of the complex but it looks like an endless paradise. The waning light of the sun streams through from where there should be a west wall and it illuminates the stream, spots of light dancing across the short bridge connecting the two landmasses—where the south-west area is thick with plants and vegetation, the north-west, or the area to his right, is grassland with only a statue of a fox interrupting it. The space is beautiful and it makes him wonder how they achieved the effect.
Dark Shadow materialises without his prompting and catches something barrelling towards him. It looks like a kid with red fur and dark rings around his green eyes, features similar to a racoon. The kid smiles at Dark Shadow and waves at Tokoyami before sand materialises and pushes Dark Shadow away. The kid falls to the ground and shakes the sand out of his fur.
"Hey, we've never had a birdy before," the kid says, a radiant smile lighting up the entire room. "And you've got a thing."
I am not a thing, Dark Shadow growls but there is no true malice in it.
"What did we say about barrelling into people, little tanuki."
The kid pouts and Fumikage feels his heart melt just the slightest bit. "Don't. But he's fine." The kid's sand grabs Fumikage by the hand. "Come on. Let's show you to the others."
The rest of the group is just as diverse as the first child: a girl with feline features and burning blue fire; a boy with pink eyes playing with coral; one who looks like a very fury human the slings lava at another child who makes steam; a kid with a horse's snout being flown around by a girl with wings; and finally a brawny child who flicks ink and Dark Shadow.
He finds he can't dislike the children even when they pile on him and keep him on the ground with their weight, or when they find a way to cover him in ink and stick him to a tree. Dark Shadow is perpetually there to defend him if things become too chaotic, or if these absurdly strong children forget their strength which can shatter boulders. By the time his two hours are up, he is sweating profusely and only standing because of Dark Shadow's aid.
"I feel like you did nothing to help," he snaps at the demon, unfair though it is.
You're just jealous I can last longer than you, young crow.
The man whom Fumikage had forgotten about chuckles. "They're a handful. It's why we only want people who can endure them if they're having a bad day." His cheer vanishes. "You understand why we don't want you speaking about them."
"Impressionable children with diverse quirks and greater base strength than most people? Yes, I understand fully." He stares the man in the eye. "You accepted me because of Dark Shadow, not simply because of my mutations."
The man brushes a hand through the thick quills on his head. "Yes. You understand what it's like being a mutant. Not just someone with sharp claws or tiny horns. They used to live in a special village. It was peaceful. Quiet. Lots of space for them to play and be free. A place for them to feel at home with their parents."
Tokoyami inhales sharply. He knows the form of this story, the nature of the beast and all its sharp edges.
"The parents died keeping them safe from people who hate mutations, who hate quirks in general. I saw the aftermath and I sincerely hope you never come across anything like." The man smiles bitterly, and Tokoyami echoes the sentiment. "That statue of a fox you saw? There were nine of them before. Now there are eight. They made it as a memorial to a kid braver than most adults will ever be. You want to be a hero, and maybe one day you'll be called on to make that kind of sacrifice. I hope you never have to, but should you, I hope you are strong enough to win regardless."
They say no more. When he arrives home close to midnight, his mother is still awake and watches him reproachfully. Fumikage observes her, hawk-like where he is a crow, through the corner of his vision.
"If you have words to say, then do so. But do not force me to stew in this uncomfortable silence."
His mother chitters. "Give me your form so I can sign it. I'm forced to stay up late because of this foolishness you insist on."
He hands her the form. "My dreams are not foolishness. I will be a hero, regardless of your displeasure. My scholarship is proof that I am capable." He takes it back after she has signed it. "Your chastisements have been heard, noted, and acknowledged."
Breakfast the next morning is awkward as always. His mother berating his every decision to be a hero. His father silent as a statue, speaking only through occasional gestures. Eventually, it becomes too uncomfortable and Fumikage leaves with his breakfast only half finished. His father's displeasure follows him all the way to school.
He knocks on the door to Aizawa's office and opens it to find the man napping against the wall in his sleeping bag. Fumikage still finds it amazing that he can sleep anywhere without the slightest hesitation.
"Aizawa," Fumikage says and waits for the man's eyes to open. "I have the form and my report."
"Leave it on my desk and take a new one for tomorrow." Fumikage does so. "Did you learn anything?"
He thinks on it for a moment. The children are all great even if they are more energetic than Fumikage ever was, and seem to function purely on optimism and fun. He could talk of them as far as his contract allows.
Why were they there? Dark Shadow asks only to him. Speak the truth and don't hide from it.
"Yes," he says after a beat of silence. "Life is cruel."
-TDB-
Toshinori Yagi feels his age more with each passing year. Five decades is not a long time to have lived, but there is a toll that is taken by being a hero, something a civilian will never understand. It is not like being a soldier or police officer. No, there is something much graver in knowing that only your actions stop a society descending to chaos and anarchy. And even then, he can never be too sure that this society he fights for is the right one.
But that is not his responsibility. He will leave it to history to determine if this society was moral and just. They can only do that if he fulfils his duty to protect them against All For One. He is the final enemy, a barrier to a truly just society. And when the great enemy falls, Toshinori will retire and leave this world in the hands of his successor.
A successor whom he has so failed and who he has avoided out of shame. Aizawa's reprimand wakes him in the dead of night often now, and his waking moments are plagued by thoughts of his failures. Much of the trust he once commanded simply by being All Might has been lost. Someone else always accompanies him during his lessons outdoors, and though the shame bites at his pride, he is not foolish enough to believe it unjust. The media, always vicious, speculate endlessly and only the many decades of his service have kept his position intact.
Izuku waits for him at the beach. His successor kneels in the sand, hands resting on his knees, in meditation. A soft glow suffuses his skin, an aura of power that will one day grow and undoubtedly outstrip Toshinori. Not yet, but one day regardless.
He is still as a statue as Toshinori approaches, the only motion from him being the occasional sparks of green lightning and the sea breeze ruffling his partially braided hair. When he comes close enough, Izuku lifts his head and looks over his shoulder.
Toshinori sees the horrible scar, feels his heart sink and his resolve shatter as the memories of his failings assault him, before he sees the smile of someone to whom forgiveness is easy as breathing, and to whom kindness is the space between breaths.
"All Might," Izuku greets, joy and unbridled optimism colouring his voice. The glow disappears as he stands.
He raises a hand, both in greeting and to forestall Izuku's words. "Please, I gave you my name for a reason, young Midoriya."
The boy tugs at his hair. "It just feels a bit odd calling you Yagi. Especially when you're all…" His gesture is wide-reaching.
"I see."
All Might lets the power of One For All fade. The vitality fades from his body, and whilst the process is uncomfortable he is used to it, and for the sake of his successor, a bit of pain is nothing. One day his powers will fade fully, and he hopes that the final enemy has fallen by then.
"You can call me Toshinori," he says, voice weak.
Izuku frowns. "Toshinori-sensei," he decides.
The innocence there makes him smile. "Yes, I suppose that is acceptable." Without One For All, he isn't much taller than Izuku. Good, it makes things easier that way. "There is something I must say to you and I have been avoiding it."
The boy's frown deepens, pulling at his scar and making it look so much worse.
"You're not getting sicker, are you?"
All Might laughs despite the pain it causes. Of course, he would consider someone else first. "No, young Midoriya. At least, no more than I already am."
That doesn't lift the boy's spirit. "A-are you upset with me?"
"No, Izuku, I don't think I ever could be upset with you." He sighs and drops to one knee so he can meet Izuku as an equal.
The boy takes a half-step back, almost fearful. "T-then why do you look so upset? You're smiling but you're not happy."
"You know me all too well. Midoriya, my boy, I came to apologise to you."
His successor opens his mouth. Closes it. Rolls his eyes.
"Okay, this makes sense. You feel guilty and upset or something like everyone else." The boy sighs. "The counsellor tried explaining it."
"And did it make sense to you?"
"A bit." Izuku kicks at the sand errantly, sending a spray of it to the side. "We talked about a lot of other stuff."
He rests a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You do not have to tell me. What you spoke off is private, and you should not feel pressured to tell anyone else."
"Okay." Izuku lets out a relieved breath, and the tension he hadn't noticed disappears. "I'm not angry with you."
"You should be. I failed in my duty to you."
That startles a laugh out of the boy. "I guess even you fail." Izuku smiles brightly as the full moon on a clear night.
"I am only human." He squeezes the boy's shoulder. "Just like you."
"It's easy to forget. You're just too big and bright some days." He tilts his head. "Oh. That's why you want me to call you by your name."
"Yes."
"Well, Toshinori-sensei, I'm not angry with you. I forgive you and I know you probably think I'm doing it because there's something wrong with me bu—
"There's nothing wrong with you."
"But," Izuku continues regardless, "I think forgiving other people is what good people do. And heroes are good people, so if I can do that then doesn't that mean I can be a hero?"
His words are simple, the words of a child who hasn't seen the true extent of darkness. And yet, there is sincerity and that is never wrong.
"You will be a great hero, young Midoriya."
-TDB-
The reassurance of his hero follows him as the days pass.
School is peaceful even if Mineta is a little shit he wants to punch after a particularly vicious comment, and he has to deal with Asui and Ashido both deciding his hair is their new favourite toy—they do, though, take him for ice-cream as they promised. Aizawa makes him wary for the man is nicer to Izuku than anyone else, which means he's grouchy and plays mind games, but he doesn't single Izuku out past simple reprimands here and there.
As long as he remembers All Might's words, then he can calm his breathing easier each time he wakes in the middle of the night, cold sweat clinging to his skin, and his scar burning with the memory of pain.
He has another session with his counsellor on Friday. She greets him politely.
"So, I think we covered a lot of ground last week."
He grunts. "Sure."
"I wanted to talk about who you were talking to last week."
He stills, static filling his mind. She'll lock you up, Mikumo says.
"No," Izuku says.
"Alright, how's about—"
"No, just no." He stands, indifferent to how this will look on his record. "No. I am not doing this right now."
He walks out, not once looking back.
The weekend comes too fast and he finds himself being dragged through a shopping mall with his friends. This is the first time he's seen them in anything other than their school uniforms or hero costumes. He isn't surprised that Uraraka and Kirishima are both dressed in bright colours, or that Ojiro looks as though he simply picked the first things he saw. He finds himself surprised that Shinsou looks like he's out of a magazine catalogue that all the cool kids read.
It is Tokoyami that gives him pause. Dressed in a black shirt, black vest, black trousers and bright red shoes, he looks like the cover for a goth magazine.
"Someone likes their bright colours," Ashido says when she sees him.
Tokoyami huffs. "I would prefer not to stand out.
"You kinda stand out the most," Kirishima says, "but hey, no one's judging. Be as edgy as you want."
"I am not edgy," he snarls right back.
Outside of that, they seem to get along. Uraraka follows Tokoyami when he splits off to see a store for the occult and even comes back with a small bag of her own. Iida wants to lead them through a strict order of stores which lasts half a second before Asui drags both Kirishima and Ojiro to another store for some school supplies. Shinsou disappears into a cat store before Iida even starts reprimanding them for splitting off.
"So how are you handling the news," Ojiro asks him at the end of the day.
"Handling what?" he asks.
"Bakugou coming back."
His vision goes white. He blinks it away and finds himself in class, Tokoyami sitting on his desk and having a conversation with Kaminari whom Izuku has yet to speak to.
"You back with us?" he hears Uraraka ask, suddenly standing right beside him. Tokoyami is on the other side of the class. "You spaced out for a bit."
He shakes his head, letting the confusion fade away. "M-must have just been stuck in my head."
"That's good to hear."
He feels Kaachan well before he enters the class. Silence reigns and no one says a word as he takes his new seat without complaint. He can tell Kaachan is angry but says little. It is a tense sort of anger, and he can taste guilt in the air.
Why would he be guilty? Izuku wonders.
"Midoriya," Present Mic says, "do you know the answer?"
He blinks and sees the English question on the board. It's just after lunch, has to be. "The second one," Izuku says softly.
"That's—"
"Hey Izuku," Kirishima says, the setting sun framing his features. "You doing alright?"
He takes a deep breath. "What?"
"Yeah, you've just been in a bit of a daze all day. I mean, you even tore Kaminari a new one at lunch."
Izuku swallows, confused. "I'll be fine."
"So, you won't need any help?" Kirishima asks, this time in class. "I mean, it looks like some pretty hard homework. We could get a study group and everything."
The boy smiles but nothing about it calms Izuku.
"What day is it?"
"Tomorrow, Thursday." Izuku freezes. "I mean, we can always reschedule if you want. You look like you haven't slept in a few days. You barely got through the maths test."
"N-no, th-that's… that doesn't—"
He sits across his therapist between one thought and the next. She smiles gently.
"It's good to see you. You missed our meeting on Tuesday."
He stares at her for a long moment. None of this makes any sense to him.
"I wanted to talk to you about—"
"What day is it?" he asks, interrupting her. His hands shake so he clenches them together and squeezed.
"It's Friday. Why?"
What the fuck? He takes a deep breath and focuses on the burnt orange vase in the corner. It's real and there and present. The couch is comfortable but textured well. The air sharp from the AC.
"Izuku," Dr Makinami says, drawing his attention. "You've been quiet for the last ten minutes."
He swallows. "I-is it still Fri-Friday?"
"Yes."
He looks to his hands. "I can'-I don't even… It was Wednesday, and I was just talking to Kirishima. No, no, no. That was Monday, right? But we were at the mall." He looks up and meets the worried gaze of his therapist. "How is it Friday?" he whispers.
He blinks. She is blurry. Tears, he realises, obscuring his vision. "Please tell me it's still a Friday."
"It is," she says, voice calm and steady. He latches on to that. "Izuku, how much of the last week do you remember?"
"I don't know," he shouts. "I don't fucking know."
"What was the last thing that happened before this happened?"
"We were at… the mall? And what? Nothing happened. They just talked about Kaa—"
Something shakes him. He looks and sees his therapist, more frazzled than he's ever seen her. "Izuku, I'm right here. Just listen to my voice and focus on it."
He feels something warm and wet run down his nose. His fingers come away red. "What the fuck did you do to me?"
"Izuku," she says, "I didn't—"
"Not you," he snaps, looking to the darkest corner of the room where a fake plant rests innocently. "Mikumo, what the fuck did you do to me?"
You are not ready. Your mind will break.
"You do not get to decide that." He's standing, fists clenched and very ready to blow through the wall. "You stole his fucking name and now you're doing this."
"Izuku, you're—"
"Shut up," he says without looking at her. "Why the fuck are you doing this to me?"
You did this to you. You hid and retreated in the dark and made me stand in the light.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
You fear him. You hide from the truth, and he is the truth you cannot face.
"What. Truth. Mikumo."
The first truth. The original. You tried to forget but every time you see him, you are reminded of the truth. You chose to forget everything but a few moments.
"That's not possible. Things don't work like that."
Everything is possible to you, if only once. I am sorry for what comes next.
He feels a needle in his neck. He pulls it out, startled, and finds it to be a dart. Eyes heavy, he turns to see his Dr Makinami, Aizawa, and someone he's never met before.
"You fucking traitor."
Izuku smiles for what else can he do as his legs give out. Strong arms catch him as darkness engulf him.
-TDB-
Shouta Aizawa wonders if one day this boy in his arms will ever stop being a problem. A formless terror always seems to grip Shouta when Izuku is involved. Now, to see what looked like a psychotic break in his student makes him wonder how much is his fault.
The boy is light in his arms, his muscle purely functional and not bulky. He lays the boy down on the couch, careful not to jostle Nezu currently on his shoulder. The bright red bloom along the boy's jaw is a monument to his failings.
"What happened?" he asks as Nezu jumps off his shoulder, landing on the armrest. The principal looks the boy over.
Dr Makinami takes a moment to compose herself, adjusting her glass. "I'm not sure."
"Isn't it your job to know?" The question is unfair, and they all know it.
"Aizawa," Nezu says, "please reign in your emotions. You've always been good at it. And Mifune, please call the boy's mother immediately."
He sighs. "Doctor Makinami, any answers you have would be greatly appreciated."
"You need to understand that I'm only sharing this because I have a valid concern he is a danger to himself, and perhaps others."
"Patient confidentiality." Nezu nods. "We can only help him as far as we understand. He was shouting at the wall, correct? A hallucination?"
"I can't say for certain. In our first session he started speaking to someone else, and when I pressed him he wasn't comfortable answering. I tentatively put schizophrenia as a diagnosis."
Aizawa's fists clench. He takes a deep breath and releases the tension.
"Tentatively?"
"I'm not a fan of putting a diagnosis without more information. But I think that might have been wrong." She looks to Izuku. "He's been dissociating."
"What does that mean for him?" He's a hero and a teacher, not a psychologist.
"It means that he's distancing himself from traumatic memories," Nezu says quietly, his usual cheer gone.
"Dissociation usually shows itself in people trying to distance themselves from trauma, yes," Makinami says, "and that can be dealt with through cognitive behavioural therapy. But he's showing symptoms of dissociative amnesia, and from the first session and this one, he's either experiencing waking hallucinations. Or, he's suffering from an identity disorder."
The doctor runs a hand through her hair. "It started on Saturday form what he said. Has anything happened in the last week that might have reminded him of a traumatic event?"
"Shit." He looks to Nezu who nods gravely. "Katsuki Bakugou returned from his suspension on Monday."
"Describe his behaviour for me?"
"He's seemed confused at times. More often he's been uncharacteristically angry, and his grades have shown a steep decline. As well, he's failed to respond to his name at times."
The doctor hums and walks to her desk. She picks up the file there and scribbles quickly.
"He was conversing directly to his hallucination. He called it Mikumo." She flips a page. "There's no indication of a Mikumo in his family records."
"There isn't," a new voice says. Aizawa turns and sees Inko Midoriya, frazzled. His fists clench again because everything about this woman is abhorrent.
"Mrs Midorya, you arrived quickly."
She walks to her son and kneels beside his unconscious form. She touches his forehead tenderly, in a sick parody of a concerned mother.
"I wanted to make sure he stayed for his session," she answers.
"Mrs Midoriya, I'm Doctor Makinami. You son's therapist. If you know who Mikumo is, then it would greatly help us."
"Why? It has nothing to do with you." She looks to Aizawa, eyes hard. "I don't even know what's happened to my son."
"He's hallucinating a person called Mikumo," Aizawa responds, just as hard. "Who might be another personality from what I understand."
Her eyes close, face running through a gamut of emotions before settling on blankness. "And you're certain of this?"
"As certain as I can be with such limited information," Dr Makinami says. "Ma'am, frankly, he's lost the better part of a week because of the dissociation. He seems to have created an entire personality to deal with a truth he doesn't want to confront. He asked Mikumo that directly."
"Mikumo, how long will you haunt me?" Her eyes open, devoid of any emotion. "Mikumo Atakani is my son."
"That's not in any records we—"
"He lived for exactly forty-seven minutes," Inko snaps. "I told Izuku about his twin last week. I didn't think this would… Why would he?"
"That's what we're trying to understand," Nezu says gently. "We want to help your son. His quirk is a hidden one, yes. And those are invariably traumatic."
"He fell and hurt himself." Aizawa wants to snort, call the lie out for what it is. Falling always seems to be the excuse an abuser uses. But he doesn't. There are more important things to deal with than a personal vendetta.
She touches the braid of white hair tenderly. "It was a head injury. He hasn't been the same since. Most days are fine. But some of them are… bad."
"Bad in what sense?"
"He's off balance like the world is falling apart. Sadness, maybe." She shakes her head. "He punched a mirror. I thought he was just upset over his scars but… he said his reflection hated him."
"Was there-is there anything else?"
"Not that I'm willing to say."
Shouta snaps. "Are you really going to keep quiet after—"
"Aizawa—"
He ignores Nezu. "After he had a psychotic break? He needs help and we need information to help him."
"That's enough, Aizawa."
Inko almost looks amused. Almost, if not for the pure rage in her eyes. "The attitude of the teachers here makes me question the quality of this institution. Whatever issue you have with me-well take them and keep them away from me." She looks to the therapist. "Can you help him?"
Dr Makinami looks between the three of them. "I'm not a fan—"
"I frankly do not care what you're a fan of."
"I am not a proponent of prescribing medication," Dr Makinami says after a moment, "especially not when I lack an actual diagnosis, but I can prescribe a broad-spectrum atypical antipsychotic."
"Do it. I don't care what you have to do, but I will not lose my son to this."
A/N:
And thus begins Season II of the Dark Below. Have fun.
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.