'It has been postulated that quirks spread by a transmission vector of some sort that we currently cannot identify. This theory attempts to explain why East Asia, where quirks first appeared, has the highest percentage of quirks whilst countries such as Iceland, Brazil and Mauritania where quirks appeared later have the lowest percentages. It has been conclusively disproven that this transmission vector is airborne, biological, or water-based. Current theories regarding the quantum states of electrons in mitochondria or exotic particles as a result of gravitational waves prove to be popular avenues of research.'
—Excerpt from 'The Beginner Scientist's Guide to Quirk Theory.
Izuku is glad he's finally rid of his classmates. Not because he dislikes them, far from it. He would just rather not have people make startling noises or touching him because all those things make him tense, ready to punch something.
Whatever peace he finds from the beach vanishes and without it, he's a bundle of nerves.
He tries to read Hawkmoon's memoir once more, doing his best to ignore his feelings on his father suddenly being in his life again. There are better choices, mostly because this is the only book that is signed to Hisashi by the great hero. The man in question tries to draw Izuku's attention from the doorway.
"Hey," Hisashi says, after standing awkwardly for ten minutes.
Izuku sighs and lifts his head, not bothering to ask how he got in. There is no way Izuku could miss the rupture in reality even if it came from the second floor.
"What do you want?"
"I thought your mother might have thrown that away," Hisashi says instead of answering. "Do you want to see her grave?"
"That's only open three days a year."
Hisashi smiles, and for a moment Izuku's heart stops because it tugs at a memory, formless but happy, a remnant from a time they were a family.
"For normal people. So, do you want to?"
"You know I do," he says bitterly at the manipulation.
His father opens a doorway. Izuku walks through it, behind the man.
The abyss looks weird, transformed by Hisashi's own will upon it. It lacks the complete and utter insanity Izuku is used to and looks more like highways of infinite possibility. Oh yes, there are still monsters hiding in circular angles of time and creatures of nuclear fire, but they seem to be secondary to this network of safe—or as far as that applies to the void—worlds.
They say no words as his father navigates their way down a highway that shifts and changes. Izuku errantly bats away an area of decelerated time flow—he has no intention of spending a long time here—and stares down an entropic beast that has the audacity to bar their way. It flees the moment it recognises his power.
His father opens another doorway and they walk through, the inky blackness of the void fading away to the warmth of the real. He is greeted by a hilly landscape, bone dry and cracked heavily with the scars of ancient battles. He has studied this place before, the site where Japan was attacked by its first villain during the Second Dark Age.
In the distance, he can make out the wall that rings the area, the separation between this dead and desolate landscape mourning the long dead, and the lush green lands rejuvenated by centuries of terraforming, a monument to Japan's resilience.
His father leads him through the rows upon rows of stakes, dozens of names engraved upon them. Many, though, have no name and bear testament to all those who died nameless and forgotten. These markers to the forgotten dead are the most pristine and stand taller than the rest.
So many were lost after quirks emerged centuries ago. The scale of senseless violence is unimaginable to him now: the dozens of warlords that rose up and created petty fiefdoms built on blood and bone, driven only by power; the mad villains who sought only death and suffering; and the two Great Tyrants, Stormwind of Europe and Titan of South America.
"This is the one."
They stop before a grave marker that looks no different from the rest. It has a dozen names but the one at the bottom, the one that would usually be least important, bears the most important name: Yui Ikari.
Izuku kneels in reverence before the grave marker of a legend, a hero he respects more than even All Might. He loves his mentor, but he knows Toshinori as a person with hopes and fears and dreams, perfectly human in his imperfections.
This woman, however, is a legend, unassailable and untouchable by imperfection.
He sets down the bouquet of flowers, a mix of lilies, chrysanthemums and carnations before her.
Here is the grave marker of the woman who felled Titan, the armoured god who ruled over Brazil with a cruel fist. The woman who struck the final blow against All-Father and Kaiser, supported only by her ally Graviton Lance. The woman who hunted down Herokilller to avenge Hero and her lover Legion who were struck down by cowardly poison. The woman who outlived all the heroes and villains of her time and died peacefully centuries later.
"May you forever rest in peace," he whispers. "I remember your words. 'Anywhere can be paradise as long as you have the will to live. After all, you are alive, so you will always have the chance to be happy. As long as the Sun, the Moon and the Earth exist, everything will be all right.'"
He extends his hand and draws forth shadows to make a replica of her great weapon. The handcannon is black where hers was silver and gold, and it will never hold her three lucky bullets. But, no matter how lacking, it is the only tribute he can give to this legend.
Izuku places the replica beside the bouquet. They look so paltry and insignificant in the face of her legacy. He is alive only because of her efforts to defeat the Warlords and one the Great Tyrants centuries ago.
"We are here because of you. If there is an afterlife, I know your allies waited all those centuries for you. One day, I hope we are equal to the legacy you left behind."
His father grips his shoulder, squeezing gently. Izuku tenses but does not pull away. He won't insult the great hero by doing something so petty.
"She lived a long life. A quarter millennium. Longer even than Hinata Ononoki. I'm glad I got to meet her once before her passing."
"I don't think I'll equal her legacy. I don't think even All Might can."
"Let me tell you a secret about being a parent," his father says softly. "The ceiling of our ability, the greatest we can ever be, is just the floor your children start at. All Might chose you as a successor for a reason. He may never surpass her, but you will. Just put one foot in front of the other and you'll do just fine."
"She could have had an island for a grave, a modern-day pyramid if she pleased. That's what they were going to do. A crypt the likes of which has never been seen." Izuku stands and inhales the dusty air. "Instead, she chose to have her name added to a mass grave, her body incinerated. 'My life is no more important than any other,' she said on her deathbed. 'Let me be buried with those whom I could not save, the lost and forgotten. Let me die as Yui Ikari, the woman whom Hawkmoon eclipsed.'"
He turns around slowly, taking in each of the grave markers.
There are ten thousand of them and each has a few dozen names. More dead because of villains than in the nuclear fire that bathed Japan in the twentieth century. This loss of life is the legacy he carries each day he chooses to be a hero. Each person dead, unable to be saved is a reminder of the cost of his decision should he ever fail.
"I want to be a hero. I want to make a world where little girls don't have to fear police officers. A world where you aren't needed. A world without people like Endeavour and the Emperor."
"You'll be a great hero." His father opens another gateway. "Let's go."
"I'm still angry with you," Izuku says, following behind.
"You have every right to be angry. As does your mother." His father reaches out ruffle his hair. Izuku ducks away instinctively. "Sorry. I guess I haven't earned that right.
"No, you haven't." Izuku sighs, noting they're going down another highway. "Ten years is a long time."
"More than you can ever know. Your mother's been talking about a divorce."
Izuku shrugs. "She has every right to it."
"I know. I just… I guess I never thought this through."
Izuku stops and stares at his father's back. The man isn't much taller than Izuku and but the shadow he cast over Izuku's past by leaving is enormous.
"I don't think you begin to understand how angry and upset she's been every time I've mentioned you. If I'm honest, I think the only reason she hasn't divorced you yet is who because your connections have been paying for our stuff."
His father pauses, one foot still in the air. He turns back to face Izuku. There is a level of raw grief Izuku hasn't seen in him before. One that makes him uncomfortable.
But not one worthy of forgiveness.
"I would never leave you guys like that," Hisashi says hesitantly. "I didn't have time to sort things out. I wish I knew what would come and I would have left a letter, a note. Something. I thought I'd be coming back in a few weeks. I didn't mean to be gone that long. Everything I've ever done, I've done because I love the two of you."
Izuku forces his anger down before something in the void is drawn to it. Already, he's having a hard time keeping it as orderly as it is and not summoning some calamity. He can feel a rumbling in his soul of an abomination stirring in tune with his anger.
"And I can forgive you for not knowing. I can forgive you for taking so long. But you don't you dare ask me to stop being angry. You left. End of story. I can't forget knowing my dad wasn't ever coming home."
He wants to cry but forces those emotions down. Numbness is better than acknowledging his feelings right now. He can do that later. Maybe shout at his therapist.
But he doesn't have it in him to speak to his father any longer.
-TDB-
Shouta Aizawa is dead on his feet.
There is too much to deal with and not enough manpower to go around. He feels guilty about getting his friend Hizashi to deal with things since he's barely out of critical condition, but right now, anyone who can walk—even with crutches—and communicate gets a job.
A new alert appears on his computer. It's from one of the police officers that participated in Midoriya's interrogation requesting a release of the boy's personal history as part of an additional background check—futile, given that Izuku's files have all but vanished.
It certainly isn't as benign as a simple background check.
They've probably done the same for Todoroki. Except there is absolutely no way in hell they're getting past Endeavour's lawyers.
He calls Nemuri. "Hey, cops are trying to find something to pin the blame of this on Midoriya. Deal with it before someone else interferes."
"Oh, like I have to deal hero association and helping All Might investigate the League of Villains and oh, I don't know, some investigation or other I haven't even touched yet."
He rolls his eyes, glad she won't see it. "Just like everything else. We need everything contained before school opens again."
"I know but you're asking for the impossible. I'm using third years from General Studies to run a PR campaign because we've got no one free. I'm doing background checks on the third-party we're using to hire third-parties that are subcontracting out duties because of how overworked we are."
He shakes his head. "Get rid of all the third-parties and just hire the subcontractors directly."
"Yeah, I'll just pull out a financial law degree and suddenly know how to handle those documents."
"Fine, Get… Cementoss to—no, wait, he's doing something with Power Loader. Ectoplasm. Fuck, get his clones to do something."
"We've been doing that since you suggested it two days ago. I swear he's about to pass out."
That reminds Shouta. He grabs a stim pack and injects it in his upper arm quickly. The cold wave of clarity rushes through him, his breathing heavier now. It's like ice in his brain, painful, but the cold pushes away his exhaustion.
"Did you just take more stimulants?" Nemuri asks, worry evident in her voices.
"I just got five new priority alerts since we started this conversation. I don't have the time to worry about my health. Fuck, I'm so busy I don't have time to die."
"I'll get on it," Nemuri says slowly, uncertainly.
Shouta sighs. "Thank you. Get some sleep and yes I know how hypocritical that is. Better one of us gets some rest."
He ends the call. Reaches over for the pot of coffee that's just finished brewing. Pours sugar into the jug and drinks straight from it.
In his other hand, he's drafting a memo to send to their lawyers.
He doesn't want anyone looking too closely at their students, doesn't want the imperial household or the government coming close to the school. If they do that, they might find out about the institute Nezu's been running for the last few decades. And whilst the idea of it keeps him up at night, he can at least use that time awake to contain any of the problems plaguing UA.
In the face of everything, he can agree with Nezu: do more good on balance than bad.
Looking into the students also means they might dig deeper into Midoriya's background. And that's the sort of thing he wants absolutely nothing to deal with just because of the fallout that will inevitably come from it.
Partway through writing the memo, he remembers UA has a team of secretaries and people who get paid to write stuff. Regardless of how overworked they might be, he passes on a message for them to deal with the memo instead.
The door opens. Aizawa takes a gulp of coffee as Nezu enters, looking as ruffled as anyone working for UA. The mammal is typing a message in one paw without looking at the device.
"What did you think of Midoriya's interrogation?"
"He was… you're procrastinating, aren't you?"
"Only partly."
Aizawa shrugs. Nezu is dealing with double Shouta's workload without including whatever project he has Sekijirou working on.
"He wasn't telling the truth. There's a lot more he isn't telling us."
Shouta glances at the personnel roster from Endeavour's agency, a peace offering since they dealt with much of the stadium security. He selects three of the junior sidekicks and assigns them to Nemuri.
"I felt much the same way. The closest villain I can find is a member of the Yakuza with a time quirk and it wouldn't be able to do what they went through. I've already passed that onto the police. What do you conclude from that?"
"A new party or they were lying."
"The former terrifies me," Nezu says. "I can understand the League attacking so brazenly but a new group with the information and abilities to act in that chaos worries me, especially if they've kept hidden this long. If it's the latter, I have my suspicions that it may have to do with his quirk."
"You think he wasn't honest about the quirk assessment a few weeks back?"
"Not at all. I think we barely understand the full extent of his power. However, he wants to be a hero and if we keep guiding him well, things will work out. For now, we can ignore his quirk." Nezu sighs. "At some point, talk to Tokoyami. But, that's not why I'm here. I need you to sign this letter."
The notification for it comes in a moment later. The words are blurry, and he sees double for a long minute.
He must be more tired than he thought if reading is this difficult. His frown deepens as he stares at the letter.
"I am not signing an apology letter to Inko Midoriya of all people. Do you really think the kid can tell the difference between normal behaviour and abusive behaviour at this point?"
"I frankly don't care if you believe Izuku's words or not. This vendetta has gone on too long. Inko can ruin us if she decides to pursue legal action against us. No, you're going to sign that apology letter—a letter which our lawyers will keep a copy of. We're in a burning house. I'm not going to let you pour gasoline everywhere in your arrogance."
There is a hardness to Nezu's voice, one that has never been directed at him before.
"He's my student."
"Yes. And you're terrified of failing any more students. I sympathise more than you can imagine. But right now, this isn't the way to protect him. If the school shuts down or if I'm forced to fire you, how can you protect any of your students? Sign the letter. An unhappy peace is better than any conflict, no matter how short."
He sighs and clicks the checkmark. His electronic signature appears at the bottom of the page, alongside that of Nezu's.
"Thank you. I don't need more problems from you." Nezu sighs. "I'm still upset you ruined my holiday two years ago. I just wanted a few days of peace and quiet and I come back to find you've expelled an entire class."
"Oh, get over it. You shouldn't have dumped me with all your work whilst you went to a beach in Greece."
"Up to that point, I'd worked without a single break for maybe thirty years. Thirty years of monitoring Japan, of making and executing plans older than you, and you destroyed a good chunk of them in a single week. Do you understand how important those children were? In a decade, they would have all been vying for the top spots. They would have had the power and influence to make things better. Do you really think I'd fill a class with students from Hokkaido and Shikoku exclusively by mistake?"
"You gave all of us leeway to act as we pleased."
"I did. It's, unfortunately, a part of the accords that I must maintain. A loophole my enemies try to exploit often. It rarely succeeds. But there are prices to be paid for having a seat at the table."
"Why was that so important? Why was that so much more important than other people?"
Nezu sighs. It is the same sigh Shouta has given to a student failing to understand basic concepts.
"Because Japan is at war, Shouta. And that war is the only thing that keeps the peace. We're all fighting for the right to decide Japan's future. I'm doing so through public perception and moulding the hero industry. The military's trying to further their control past Shikoku and turn Japan into a military junta. And, if I'm being honest, I genuinely don't know why the Imperial family hasn't taken over."
"That's ridiculous."
"Sure, until you consider that people support the militarization in Shikoku. They're terrified of another purge, of more black flames sprouting and another wave of protests. And if the military is strong, we're safe from outside invasion."
Shouta doesn't shudder at the reminder of that horrible event in his youth. It's been decades. At the very least, he's mastered his reaction any time someone mentions the event that got his mother killed.
"Every signatory of the accords balances each other," Nezu continues. "I may not have an army or a Royal Guard, but most of the top heroes are students I taught. If nothing else, I can call on them for support. But you see, Shouta, whatever strength I have is entirely dependent on how fondly my students remember me. I don't have a true power base outside UA and I can't ever have one without violating the accords."
"Why?" he asks, too tired to think much.
Nezu observes him for a moment.
"Fear. Fear of my intelligence. Fear of how alien I am relative to you humans," Nezu says, waving with his animal paw. "They're all worried that if I'm not restrained, I'll have a power base equal to any of the international powers. They're terrified I'll have something as strong as China's Great Ten or an organisation as numerous as the Vancouver Island Villain Association. Quite frankly, they don't want me even having an information network half as good as the Taiwanese remnant."
"Japan is stronger."
"Perhaps. But you know better than most that stealth and misdirection are your allies. We might have powerful quirks, but there's guarantee we'd ever win a war. And even if we could, the loss of life would be too great."
Shouta hums. More things to research. If half of what Nezu says is true and not paranoia, then there's too much he is unaware of.
"Have you found anything about my students? The ones that I expelled."
"Still tracking them all down."
"And?"
"As I suspected, most of them are living perfectly decent lives. Some aren't doing as well as I'd like, but that's the nature of things." Nezu raises a paw to forestall his arguments. "I've passed along their names to some of the alumni. They'll see to it that they get better jobs."
"Thank you. And Nagisa's class? He said only five were still alive. Six including him."
"Harder to track just by their nature. They were all from Hokkaido and Shikkoku, and people can go to ground easily there. If they don't want to be tracked, they can hide better than most places. Snipe's been busy searching the underground for any information on them. It's taking some time but Snipe should be meeting a broker later this week. We'll have more information then."
Shouta nods. "Good. Do you think they'll be ready for the internships?"
"I think it doesn't matter," Nezu says. "We're too busy to teach them full time. We should be grateful so many agencies are willing to take them on for three weeks."
The door opens, a secretary barging in. The secretary looks frazzled, hair dishevelled, and panting heavily.
"Sir, we've got a problem," the secretary says between laboured breaths.
Nezu sighs. "One to ten."
"Wherever you put the crown."
Shouta is rushing out the door, nearly knocking the secretary down, Nezu on his shoulder. Nearly. He isn't that rude yet. Still, he makes his way through the school rapidly, glad there aren't any students to see his mounting panic.
"Don't do anything foolish," Nezu murmurs as Shouta races down a flight of steps. "We've violated none of the accords."
"Then why are they here?" Shouta asks harshly, nearly tripping on the last step.
"I don't know and that worries me. They know I have contingencies in place if they attack me."
Nezu falls silent. Shouta takes a moment to compose himself and walks outside, back straight and quirk ready. It is a tiny shield against the worry gripping him.
There's a man standing at the base of the stairs, calm and indifferent to Shouta's panic. He offers a small wave when Shouta stops, stunned.
The short man is dressed in the white military uniform of the imperial household. That isn't what makes Shouta pause.
It's the fact that it feels like looking at Izuku Midoriya.
The hair might not be green but it's just as dark. The eyes are the same colour and the man even has scars exactly where Izuku does, scars of a different nature certainly, but it is still disquieting. The man below him looks like Izuku in a few decades.
The idea of seeing Izuku, broken and confused and unbelievably kind Izuku, in that uniform, makes him sick to the core.
"What do you want?" Nezu asks without an ounce of politeness. "We've broken none of our agreements."
The man smiles a cruel and twisted thing. "My name's Hisashi Midoriya. You might know my son."
Shouta decides right then and there that he is completely over the headache Izuku gives him every day merely by existing. Because this, right here, explains too much. It explains the security around the home. It explains why the man has no history for the better part of three decades. It explains why every record of Izuku or Inko is suddenly gone.
"I didn't think you were in the picture," Nezu says coldly, his fur bristling. "Surprising to see you here."
The man, Hisashi, takes a step forward. "Well, I was busy. And I think you can tell by the uniform that you can't silence me or buy me out like any other parent."
"Unfortunately. I'll ask again. Why are you intruding on UA territory? What does the Emperor want of us?"
"Him? Nothing. I'm just a father concerned with his son being spied on. That's going to stop immediately. As far as you're concerned, from now on, unless Izuku breaks a rule you're going to leave him alone. No interrogations. No questioning. You don't even look at his files without my express permission."
Nezu makes a sound that might generously be called a hiss. "We don't give in to the demands of a man we can't even prove is his father."
"Oh, shut up. He looks like a clone of me. And he is under my protection." And then the man points at Shouta. "You happen to piss me off, so I will hold you personally accountable if my son is harmed. And if you so much as look at my wife wrong, so much as mutter a bad word in her direction, I will kill you."
Shouta scoffs. "I've had a lot of people threaten me with that. I'll take my chances."
The man laughs as if that is the funniest thing he's heard all year. Then he glares, his jade eyes looking like green fire.
"Oh, you're funny. This isn't a threat. If you mess with my wife, I will bring to bear every resource the imperial household has against you. If my son is hurt, I will light this school on fire. Then, when UA is a burning ruin, I will crucify you to it, and watch you burn to death slowly. You think you're powerful, hidden in your castle, untouchable because of old agreements written by older fools. Deals that I brokered. I promise you that there is nothing in this world that can protect you from me."
Hisashi takes a single step forward and everything about him changes.
His eyes are like endless green stars, a constellation of dark knowledge. His face is devoid of all emotion, just cruel ruthless efficiency in the hard lines of his face. His scars, once mundane, remind Shouta of gods dying and their corpses being consumed.
Worst of all is the singular and all-consuming promise his presence heralds: death. Cold, cruel and callous death.
"I've forced the strongest man alive to stand down," Hisashi says in a voice like a thousand worlds dying. "Don't fuck with me, little boy."
-TDB-
Izuku puts up with his mother's fussing valiantly, understanding why she is reluctant to let him go. That simple desire to keep him safe from the world warms his heart and he hugs her in return before walking out. The morning air is chillier than he expects but nothing he can't ignore.
He enjoys the walk for all of three minutes before his father materialises beside him, the doorway existing for half a moment.
Izuku sighs as it collapses.
The last time he saw his father was at the memorial site, yesterday. He hasn't heard a single thing from the man since then. Given that he had just vanished, claiming 'important business', Izuku hasn't been very pleased with him. Less so than usual.
"What do you want?"
"Just a gift," his father says and hands him the small wrapped package. "Something of an apology."
Izuku pockets the gift. "Great. You can go now."
His father nods. Pats him on the head once. Vanishes through a doorway.
With a sigh, Izuku sets off to the train station, taking his time through the throng of people all trying to go about their business. Mostly, he walks slowly so nothing startles him. It would be a shame to attack someone by mistake.
The train ride is quiet until the first station. He listens to music in peace, watching the world pass by outside. For a moment, he imagines what the world could look like consumed by shadow and eternal flame: a sick miasma of darkness and burning heat and monsters around every corner.
A part of him doesn't hate that idea.
A poke to his shoulder pulls him away from his thoughts. He sees Shinsou, exhausted as always, and smiles.
"Hey."
Shinsou takes the seat beside him. "You good?"
"Daydreaming."
"Wanna share?"
"Is it weird that I look at you and I just get worried? I know you're here and I know you're… fine, but I'm worried I'm going to open my eyes and you'll all be gone."
"That's pretty morbid for you. And it's just a finger," Shinsou says, waving. It's odd seeing the empty space where his finger should be. Perhaps because it's a friend being hurt.
"I'm used to you worrying about me, not the other way around."
"It's not an important finger. This is the important finger."
Shinsou lifts his middle finger.
"You little shit," Izuku says, unable to keep from smiling. "I'm sorry."
"It happens. Look, no one's fine but it could be worse, you know. That's what I tell myself every time I close my eyes and see another dead body. Maybe that's fucked up, but you just have to move forward. It wasn't me who did and I couldn't stop it. Feeling guilty is just a waste of time."
Izuku cocks his head. "Is that working?"
Shinsou chuckles bitterly. "Not in the slightest. But being an insomniac means I don't sleep enough to deal with nightmares. And honestly, at least I don't have nightmares about being lynched for having a villain's quirk. Silver linings, right?"
Izuku shakes his head. "I'm just… I guess I'm glad you're alright. It's weird just going back to school like nothing happened."
"Would you rather the school shut down?"
"No. I guess you're right."
That is answer enough and Shinsou doesn't question him any further. The ride is companionable. There isn't a decade of resentment or frustration between them. No particularly bad fight. No weird connection to the abyss. Just two people who like each other.
At the gates he asks, "Did you ever, you know, wind up asking Ochaco… um, fill in the blanks."
Shinsou laughs silent. "Well, there was a terrorist attack and it just didn't seem right to ask when you were MIA."
He ducks his head. "Sorry and you're just going to say I need to stop apologising for everything."
"Huh, you can learn. See you later."
Izuku waves as he leaves. He takes the time to remove his father's gift and unwrap the packaging. And nearly have a heart attack. It is a deck of cards, one that he's heard rumours of on the internet and always at exorbitant prices. He wants to open it.
Instead, he drops it in his shadow for safekeeping and continues onward.
UA looks different. The gates and buildings are still as grand as he remembers, monuments appropriate to a school internationally recognised as one of the best. So, it isn't like the paths are dirty or the windows are broken. It's the way students walk with their heads bowed or huddle in groups, laughing too loud for it to be genuine cheer.
Most telling are the flags. This is the first time he's seen them at half-mast. Every time he's seen the gates of UA, the billowing flags have always stood tall, reminders of the unconquerable monolith that is heroism embodied in one institute.
Now, the flags represent the trust people have, tarnished and diminished, but still present. So long as they stand, they can rise again.
He doesn't make it far in the school before he's accosted once more.
"Midoriya."
Looking back, he sees Itsuka Kendo, pulling an aggrieved looking Monoma behind her.
"Hi," he says for lack of anything better to say.
"I don't think the great Izuku Midoriya needs to be disturbed," Monoma says sarcastically, wiping the dust off his shoulders. "He only has time for majestic kicks and breaking stadiums."
Izuku flushes. "That wasn't intentional."
"Keep quiet," Kendo says to her classmate. "I just wanted to ask how you're doing. We hear you wound up… well, you know."
"Being kidnapped? Super fun times."
Kendo laughs nervously. "Humour, right?"
"Yeah." Izuku nods and decides to change the subject. "How's the petition going?"
"Well. We got the Big Three to sign it and most of their class signed. The board of governors is organising meetings over it. It's only the second years who aren't interested."
"You can't change everyone."
"Well, It's good to see you, Midoriya," Kendo says.
"It is the highest honour for him to bask in my glory," Monoma says.
Izuku shrugs, not sure how to engage with that. "Okay. Oh, how's Ibara? I haven't seen her around."
"She's not… she's not coming back this term," Kendo tells him. "Injuries. A piece of braided steel broke off and hit her. It'll take a while to heal."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"It was a terrorist attack. Nothing you could do."
Monomo shifts, his eyes darkening. "If I ever find the person responsible—"
She whacks him on the back of his head.
"Ey," he says in annoyance.
Kendo grabs him by the collar and brings him close. "You'll stay the hell away and call the authorities. You don't mess with villains like that."
"Tetsuetsu's dead," Monoma says, soft as a blade, not caring that he's being manhandled. "I'm not gonna forgive that, Kendo. If I ever find the people responsible, they're dying."
Well, that escalated quickly.
Kendo glares at her classmate. "I don't want to lose anyone else."
"I know. And if we get the people who did it, we won't ever lose anyone again."
"I'd stop you."
"I know you would," Monoma says and there is none of his usual eccentricity. "Thank you, for being better than me. I don't know what I'd do without you."
There is a tenderness to their words that make him feel like an intruder to something special and private. The words aren't meant for him in the slightest, and yet he is still privy to these details. It reminds him that people have their own hopes and dreams and fears that have nothing to do with him.
It also makes him care for them more. They aren't friends by any stretch, but they're startlingly human, and they are his peers.
Kendo looks to Izuku, seeming to remember he is there and struck silent by their words.
"Well," she says slowly, awkwardly, grief colouring her voice, "see ya."
She pulls Monoma with her who doesn't so much as look at Izuku.
You can't help them. You can only move forward.
He sighs. There isn't any choice but to go to class and face his peers.
His class is a mess of bandaged people.
They look like extras to a B-list zombie movie. And one with a terrible costume designer at that. The class only has a few people and he waves to Asui who waves back, and Kirishima who is currently in an arm-wrestling contest with Sero. Which Iida isn't stopping. He frowns but decides his friend must just be willing to let people relieve stress after the Sports Festival.
It also looks like neither Sero or Kirishima are putting much force into their competition.
It may be cruel, but a part of him is glad that no one in his class is dead. And yet, there should be twenty desks, not seventeen.
Shouto sits in his seat alone, looking out the window. The set of his shoulders is tense. Izuku walks over, making sure to keep his footsteps loud. No need to give Shouto a reason to stab him.
"Hey, Shouto," he says loudly.
He hears a crash but chooses to ignore it. Probably just Sero losing the arm-wrestling contest.
"Izuku."
Another crash and someone hissing, "Keep quiet," almost distracts Izuku but he powers through it and sits on the edge of the desk.
"You look pretty bad." Shouto tilts his head slightly a bit in response. "Like someone just spilt some ice-cream you waited an hour to get. Do I have to punch him again?"
"Please don't," Shouto says quietly.
His posture is open so Izuku takes it as a sign that it isn't Endeavour that has Shouto looking so bad. "Okay. Wanna meet up?"
"The fuck is this shit?" Bakugou shouts, startling Izuku such that he falls off the desk. "Do you fucking punch everyone with shitty backstories into being your fucking friends?"
He stares at Bakugou in bewilderment, noting the dark brace around his right arm. And then notices everyone else is staring at him as well.
"No?"
A vein appears on Bakugou's forehead. "You lying piece of—"
Jirou shoulder checks Bakugou from behind, interrupting him. "Move and shut up."
"You bitch," he snarls back, reaching to slap her hand away with his bad arm, the one in the black brace.
Izuku sees the pain cross Bakugou's features, a single moment of weakness that is noticed by everyone. The class falls silent because Bakugou, despite everything, has always been a force of nature. And to see him visibly in pain is like seeing one man hold back a hurricane.
It simply isn't right.
"Fuck off you whiny little bitches," Bakugou shouts after a beat, a moment's hesitation.
"What did we say about that word?" Jirou asks, before twisting Bakugou's ear.
Izuku takes the opportunity to find a seat as the two argue. Or, more accurately, Jirou teasing Bakugou mercilessly. Izuku stares incredulously as Kaminari joins in.
A soft brush of a finger against his wrist makes him look back at Shouto. He's not smiling exactly, but he is amused by the way he is leaning back slightly in his chair.
Izuku shrugs and takes his seat as Sero and Kirishima join Jirou and Kaminari.
He retrieves the deck of cards when no one is looking in and very slowly out the first card. It has a metallic sheen and a thin protective covering on it. The Ace of Spades is a picture of one of All Might's battles in America. The second card is a picture of him with David Shield shaking hands before All Might would leave for Japan again.
Aizawa enters looking haggard and tired. His eyes are so bloodshot that there is more red than white, and his fingers twitch.
"All of you shut up right now," he snaps.
And they do. Aizawa is rarely ever overtly angry. But considering he looks like he's on more stimulants than is healthy, it may explain a lot.
Why is he glaring at you?
Izuku isn't certain of that. He offers Aizawa an uncertain smile. In return, all he gets is Aizawa turning his attention back to the class.
"Alright people," Aizawa says, voice hoarse. "Good news, no one's getting expelled."
"Everyone knows you're not expelling anyone," Asui mutters loud enough for everyone to here.
Aizawa glares at her. "I am going to ignore that because I am too tired to care." He takes a visible breath. "As I said before the festival, it's a good chance to get recruiters looking at you for internships. Usually, we'd do it this week, but someone decided to blow up our stadium. As a result, a lot more attention fell on you and more recommendations were submitted."
"Hell yeah," Kirishima shouts.
"Don't get excited. Most agencies just want cheap labour to deal with the increased workload. Actually, that sounds like a great idea. Next person to interrupt me is going to be my errand boy. Usually, I'd give a speech about hero names but I don't have the energy for that. Instead, you're getting a nice set of rules about your hero names and you'll submit them to Midnight for review. You have until tomorrow evening to get a name Midnight approves of."
"You're just being a lazy fuck."
"Bakugou just shut up already. I don't want to have you for three weeks." Aizawa looks back to the class. "Also, for security purposes, all of you have to download a new app for your phones. You press the giant emergency button and it sends out a message with your location and starts recording everything. I hope you're all smart enough to be able to press that button. Questions? No? None? Good. Here are your recommendations. You have fun. I have more important things to deal with. Unless the class is burning, Iida, I don't care."
Aizawa points the remote at the board and clicks a button on his way out. Names and numbers appear on the board.
Izuku doesn't really pay attention to them. He's a bit more interested in the limited edition All Might deck of cards he has, courtesy of his father. He may be angry at the man, but he knows the deck costs a lot of money.
"Holy shit, Midoriya."
He looks up at Ashido. "What?"
"Look how many offers you got."
He frowns and looks at the board, not expecting more than one or two. It takes him a bit to go through the list of names: Ojiro who has twenty-three; Ashisdo with thirty; Kirishima just breaking a hundred, Tokyoyami with nearly a thousand; Bakugou, Todoroki, and Ochaco with nearly double that each; and then his name at just over four thousand.
"Huh."
"How'd you do it, man?" Kaminari asks, fake-crying. "You always pull wins outta your ass."
Izuku shrugs. "Maybe get kidnapped?" He looks around, noticing the mood has instantly died. "That was a joke."
"Maybe you should lay off on the jokes," Sero says.
"Yeah, you're really bad at them."
"I don't think you've ever made a good one," Ojiro adds.
Izuku shrugs once more, still shuffling the cards. They're heavy as far as cards go but the images of All Might's battles on them are worth it. Especially with how the jokers are signed.
"Okay."
"He doesn't fucking care," Bakugou says, standing. "I'm not staying with you cunts if we don't have class."
Bakugou gives them the middle finger before striding out.
"Is someone going to make sure he doesn't do something stupid?" Kaminari asks.
Yaoyorozu stands. "I'll deal with it."
Iida takes charge after that. They may not have traditional classes, but there is required reading they have to go through. Their class rep guides them through it and has them teaching small groups. Until it is time for maths and Kirishima pushes him to the front of the class.
It's basic calculus work, nothing that would trouble him on any given day.
He teaches the class easily, fielding their questions and trying not to be side-tracked by explaining higher concepts. After the lesson, he goes for lunch and picks at his food for a few minutes. Seeing normal food after eating the hearts of godlings and metallic flesh is disquieting.
It just seems so lacking in comparison.
Eventually, the concerned glances he keeps on getting from Shinsou and Ojiro make him put the chopsticks down. "Staring at me won't get me to eat. I'm not hungry. Get over it."
He stands and gets rid of the lunch tray, walking out of the lunchroom without another glance. He wanders through the school to clear his head, wondering why his temper runs so hot.
Blame your father, Mikumo says.
That makes him laugh.
"What's got you laughing, baby Midoriya?"
He looks up. "Hi, Hatsume."
She's dressed in what can only be work clothes, stained black with oil and a dozen more colours from other chemicals. Despite that, she looks so happy and calm despite the Sports Festival that happened so recently.
"You should stop by the workshop sometime. I'll design a new costume for you." She twirls her spanner.
"Okay. Why?"
"Well, the government's funding a lot of my designs now. I hate having to fill out their paperwork and deal with their tiny design iterations, but they let me do whatever I want the rest of the time. So, it's a thank you present. You wanna fly? I'll get you a jetpack."
He steps back. Her grin is just a bit too gleeful. "Sounds… awesome."
"Now, onto important things. How's your boyfriend?"
He blinks. "What?"
"Really? Rumour mill says Todoroki valiantly saved you and you fell wildly in love with him, and that you're going to elope."
He flushes. "Okay, I am done with this conversation."
"Wait," she calls out. "Let me live vicariously through you. I need the details!"
-TDB-
Classes, or rather, Iida getting them to read from their textbooks, the rest of the day passes peacefully enough. Izuku doesn't read from his textbook during these periods. It's a waste of time, really, given that he could teach a class on quirk history any day of the week.
It is on his way out the school that he hears a loud thud.
Izuku pauses, cocking his head. He listens and yes, the sound exists outside his mind. He follows it to a hallway that a bit out of the way.
There is Tokoyami backed up against a wall. Three students he doesn't recognise surround his friend and all of them look ready for a fight.
His first reaction is to break them.
His second reaction is to break them.
His third reaction is to break them in a way he can get away with.
"Hey," Izuku says, forcing a smile even though all he feels is a cold rage. "How's about you take a step back?"
The one holding Tokoyami glances back. "Stay the hell outta this. This bastard will pay."
Tokoyami looks to him, indecision clear in his gaze. "Don't, Midoriya."
"You should listen to your friend," one of the two girls says, her limbs tensed in preparation. "I lost family to fuckers like this."
Izuku glares at her. Any other time he might feel sympathy at the bandages or the cast on her arm. He might be interested in why the third has a medical cane. But not now.
"Maybe you don't know me," he says, walking forward. "But I'll be honest, if you don't let go, I'm going to break every bone in that hand."
"First years always think they're the shit after the festival," the third bully says. "Go back—"
One For All fills him with power.
In the space between breaths, he has crossed the distance. Before the bullies can react, he grasps the first bully's wrist harshly.
"I will break your wrist first," Izuku warns, voice steady as a mountain, his grip unyielding. "Then I'll break the next twenty-seven bones in your hand."
The bully he's holding gulps visibly. "You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
Izuku smiles, a tiny portion of crystal madness peeking through.
He's stabbed one of his closest friends in the back in a desperate gamble. Breaking the bones of someone he dislikes will be easy, easier than beating Shouto to a bloody pulp. Easier than kicking him off a cliff. Easier than punching the number two hero without fear.
Easier than facing down an endless monstrosity that destroyed galaxies.
He glares, knowing that the bully will see eternity reflected in his eyes and his sheer indifference to a concept so mundane. These are the same eyes that stared down gods and told them to fuck off. These are eyes that have made sense of unfathomable logic.
A teenage boy is nothing to eyes that have seen the vastness of the universe.
"Hey, ain't worth it," the girl says. She looks to Izuku, wary and almost skittish. "Let go of him and we'll go our separate ways."
Izuku nods and releases the bully who steps back quickly.
"Come after him again and I'll break you," Izuku warns. "And that goes double for any of your friends who think they can follow up."
"Fucking protecting a villain," the bully says, stepping back with his cohorts. "The law will catch up with you fucks."
Izuku says nothing and watches them until they are gone. Then he releases the breath he didn't know he was holding and lets One For All fade away.
"That was unnecessary," Tokyami says, pushing off from the wall. "But thank you."
"What's up with them?"
Tokoyami rolls his shoulders, straightening his blazer. "They see the black flames and naturally associated them with Shikoku. And very many people had family and friends in Shikoku."
Izuku's fists clench. "That's no excuse. And don't you dare tell me they're justified. No, that Is not how it works. They're being assholes and I've seen enough of that shit to last a lifetime."
"You're talking about the girl."
Izuku relaxes his fingers. "I thought I was over it but I guess she'll always haunt me. Seeing my dad just brings everything back."
"Good fathers seem to be in short supply."
That startles a laugh out of him. "Let's go to the beach. It's time we sit down and talk."
The walk to the beach is familiar, one they have done many times over.
He jumps on a railing and spreads his arms wide, teetering for a moment. Once he has regained his balance, he puts his hands in his pocket and walks on the thin railing as easily as Tokoyami walks on the ground.
"Have you given any thought to a hero name?"
"Not really. Don't particularly care." He gestures to himself, spinning on the spot in an act of balance that would make Jin proud. "Why can't I just be Izuku?"
"It is not the name one would associate with a hero. It is the name of a friend, not a great hero."
"If I wanted to, I could call myself Deku." Tokoyami grunts, a request for information. "It was something of an insult and something of a nickname from Kaachan. I guess calling him Katsuki makes more sense now. We're not the same kids and I don't really care what he does. I don't have to be the Deku to his Kacchan. I've seen too much to be defined by him."
"People grow. Still, I dislike him greatly."
"Well, he doesn't care He's got Yaoyorozu and Jirou from what I can see. Maybe even Kaminari. I think the two of us together was always just a toxic and volatile mix," Izuku says ruefully. "Do you have a name?"
"Tsukiyomi."
"The god of the moon. A guiding light in the dark." Izuku nods. "It's a good name. I guess Shadowshield works for me. It's honest to me without giving it all away. I don't think I'm arrogant enough to name myself after a god. Besides, they're no good ones left. I mean, I called the godflame Amaterasu when I first saw it."
"Susanoo then," Fumikage says. "Three sibling gods for three kings."
"Do I look like I make storms?"
"Who knows. Perhaps you shall one day."
He wonders at that, wonders at the true extent of his powers. In the abyss, he wields darkness, the very foundation of that alien plane. But here, in the real world under the sun, he can only wield shadows, a pale comparison of the full power he has used before. But none of that has anything to do with storms.
And what of the living lightning? Mikumo asks.
He considers that, remembering how he wielded bolts of lightning in that last battle against the Elder Thing that tried to consume Shouto's hellfire. Then again, that was his intent made manifest in a realm where promises can be solid and dreams are just as real as anything here.
Tokoyami chuckles. "Some see Susanoo as a war god as well."
"I would rather be a peacemaker than another Warlord."
"I know you would not. It's too quiet here," Fumikage says, gesturing to their surroundings. "No one's around."
"I asked my dad to make sure no one was observing us. Complete privacy."
"He's well connected, I take it."
His smile is brittle. "My father wore a white uniform when the Purge of Shikoku happened."
"I can't judge," Fumikage says slowly after a beat. "Not when my father is what he is."
Izuku cocks his head. "Sometimes the void contaminates the real world. And when that happens, you can't really save anyone. It's just a matter of burning away the infection. That's what he said."
"Do you doubt him?"
"No. I'd know if he was lying. He's just like me." He shakes his head. "Maybe I'm just like him."
"Well, should I ever find myself faced with that choice, I will remember your words."
"Do you know what's happening for everyone who… who died?"
"Unfortunately. The school will hold a special assembly come Friday to commemorate those who died." Fumikage sighs. "It's odd that villains would resort to an act like that. Theft and murder, I understand, but an act of terrorism like that has not occurred in decades."
"Well, we can ask them once they're behind bars. They hurt people I care about and for that, I'm going to find them. It might not be tomorrow, but the League will go down."
"I find I agree with you."
Shouto is already at the beach, standing patiently on the pier. His back is to them and he seems relaxed. Izuku points at him.
"I invited him here because we're all connected. All three of us."
Tokoyami nods. "Dark Shadow has mixed feelings about him."
"I can understand why. Will that be a problem?"
Fumikage pauses. "No. It claims it's come to accept what needed to happen for the two of you to survive."
"Shouto," Izuku calls out.
His friend looks back, his black eye seeming to burn with power. That disquieting moment of his feelings laid bare passes quickly. There aren't any secrets he's hiding from Shouto, and if there are, then they're hidden from Izuku as well.
"You gonna stand all day?" Izuku asks, kneeling in kiza to the left.
Shouto's reactions are guarded. Probably due to Tokoyami. Shouto kneels similarly to Izuku as Tokoyami sits cross-legged.
"You called us here."
He smiles at Tokoyami. "Well, you might as well bring them out. It's gonna be that kind of conversation."
Tokoyami makes a sound deep in his throat. Swirling darkness rises from his shoulder and Dark Shadow manifests. It hovers protectively over its master, the thread of darkness binding it to Tokoyami tiny and thin, almost like a finely braided chain.
Another spot of darkness appears on Tokoyami's side. A chain made of darkness appears and travels straight to the water. The head of his dragon breaches the surface, its eyes focusing on Izuku for a moment before it looks back to its master.
Izuku extends his hand and brings forth a swirling mass of darkness from his shadow. He lets it settle around his legs, oscillating faster and slower without much though.
He nods to Shouto who sighs affectionately. Dark flames flare up from his right arm. Shouto forms orbs almost like mini suns out of the godflame and lets them orbit his body.
"So, we're all pretty different."
"Your ability to understate all matters will forever astound me."
Izuku ignores him.
"Well, I got my… abyssal quirk factor from my dad? So, did Shouto. And both are dicks for different reasons. Mine took part in something I hate. His is an abusive shit. Yours any better?"
"Plainly put, he's a violent murderer." The casual admission startles Izuku. "I've spoken to him more in recent days than in recent years, and the stories leave me… disquieted. He is not the man I want to be and we fight at every turn now. But I believe the quirk factor did manifest from him."
He is chained to his rage and his blades chained to his rage, Dark Shadow says, its voice relaxed and peaceable. Your dragon is chained to your soul and your soul chained to your dominion. They are symmetrical abilities even if they are not equivalent.
"But why us?" Izuku asks the oldest among them, a tree that's lived and seen more than Izuku can imagine. "My quirk drove me mad. Yours made you suffer in the past. And you've had to deal with a corrupting influence since you were a kid. But suffering doesn't make us inherently special."
Much of my wisdom is gone but in the presence of you three kings, much of it returns as well. I do not know with complete certainty but I know that everything has waited for you three young Gods.
Dark Shadow shifts, changing shape before his very eyes.
Its form elongates, what would be legs on its brethren twisting till they form roots that burrow deep in Tokoyami who seems not to notice much. It gains branches and leaves until it looks like an odd cross between a biped and a tree, an odd and alien symbiote to be certain.
Somehow, this seems the truest incarnation of Dark Shadow.
Dark Shadow speaks in a light tenor, warm as the stars and just as constant. There is a richness to its voice, a joyous timbre that leaves Izuku feeling calm as an ocean on a spring day.
Shadowking, anathema to void life and true life both—your kingdom is the inky black of the abyss, the foundation of the void, the power to match any challenge by the grace of true dark and the lines of tribute from ruinous throne worlds that existed before light and time. To you goes the right to drench all reality in darkness and impose your anathema logics.
Scorchking, heart of the godflame and bearer of its sight—yours is entropy and energy, creation and destruction in equal measure: from you the concepts of time and gravity and all the natural laws were born. It is your right to burn reality in your image and consecrate reality with hellfire.
Slaveking, my prince of crows and slaver of all life—by your chains shall you bind the lives that arise from the intersection of true dark and godflame, slaves to your will forever no matter their power. Those slaves shall endlessly tithe unto you their energy and loyalty to do with as you please. To you goes dominion and sovereignty over the concept of life that exists under Disparity.
"That doesn't explain what we are," Izuku says softly, disappointed, for that is an explanation of what something is, not why it is.
"I don't care," Shouto says. Izuku glares at him but Shouto shifts his shoulder slightly, completely indifferent. "I paid the price and got my power. It doesn't really matter to me."
"That's not how stories work," Izuku says slowly, looking at Shouto and the dark flames in his hand. "Everything you went through in the abyss was a story. It was a metaphor for your suffering in the past. Getting a new power cost your memories and passion, but it also freed you of the past. But it can't just end like that."
He looks to Tokoyami next. Dark Shadow hovers above him. Behind Tokoyami, in the water, his dragon observes them silently, observing the conversation between kings.
"Because you broke your code of ethics, you got me hurt. And since then, you've been doing everything to atone for it and grow as a person. And your reward for all that guilt was a new power. It may have costs down the road, and your moral code will probably be challenged more, but it makes narrative sense."
"I think I understand something about you now," Tokoyami says, doing his best not to smile in his odd way. "You really do think of things as storytelling tropes."
"I do not… okay, I use them but that's because truths and metaphors are the same things in the void. And that place makes more sense than here."
That's quite sad, Mikumo says.
Shouto leans back, as does Dark Shadow. "Izuku, who the hell is that?"
A few days ago, anyone else seeing Mikumo would have surprised him. Considering his father came and shattered his worldview on the matter, Shouto being able to see him isn't shocking, not when one of his eyes can see Izuku's soul.
"My dead twin brother," he says, waving away any possible questions before they start. "It's weird. It involves my dad. I don't want to talk about it right now."
"You mean Mikumo," Fumikage says.
Izuku blinks. "I told you that?"
"You have trusted me with many things, your brother included. If you do not wish to speak on the matter, who are we to force you? What right do we have to question you?"
You hold every right to question a peer. But perhaps the question truly does not matter, Dark Shadow says, looking at a spot near Izuku. Perhaps the universe exists to be observed and thus all forms of life arose. Perhaps the abyss exists because it wishes to be observed, to be defined by a singular will, and thus you three were born. If that is the case, no choice you make is wrong. I do not believe there is a destiny for you. All possibilities are open. What fate can bind Gods?
"We're not gods," Izuku counters. "Stop calling us that."
What word better describes you, shadowking? Within the void, your true form creates endless realms of darkness. And in the real, the endless lines of tribute and sword logic allow your corpse to win against any threat. You've faced monsters that would destroy this world simply with their attention. What is that if not a God?
"An aberration. An anomaly. A lot of luck. Just not godhood by any stretch."
"My father once told me that in the past people with quirks would have been worshipped as gods and that we should never believe in the reach of godhood. I agree with you, Izuku. I could not face the threats you have. I would have died during those same battles."
My prince of crows, yours is the slavery of all life. With that dragon alone, your power has grown and your pool of energy expanded greatly. Your kingdom must be filled first before you can truly ascend. Bind life and your power shall grow exponentially. Scorchking, you burnt entire worlds and living gods in your image and trapped them in your own personal hell. Deny it all you will, the very fabric of the abyss has acknowledged you.
"What the fuck are we supposed to do?"
Whatever you please. There is no fate prescribed for you.
"I don't like that answer."
Then forge another destiny, shadowking. You are bound only by yourself. What right do I have to command a king? Ultimately, we will love or die by your decisions. Your whims carry the weight of life itself.
"I don't want that responsibility," Izuku says tiredly, weary with the weight of the world.
"You have us," Fumikage says warmly. "Trust in us and we will trust in you."
"It's too much power for any single person to have."
Shouto shrugs. "Better me than Endeavour. Better you than your dad. Better Fumikage than his father."
"That isn't a good answer." Izuku sighs. "You know, I used to just be a quirkless kid and now you're trying to tell me I'm a God. With a big 'G' at that."
I can give you no answers, Dark Shadow says. The universe simply is. Asking why it came into existence is a foolish gambit. But I suppose, the secrets of the universe are trifling concerns to you, now. Do as you wish, shadowking. Live as a human if it pleases you. Conquer everything should you feel the urge. Walk the vacuum of space and see all that reality has to offer. You are constrained only by yourself.
He looks to the sun setting over this meeting of kings and wonders at the future. It seems so absurd that any single person should have so much power. The very idea is like trying to hold the image of every star in the sky and then trying to map every single planet and asteroid all at once in your mind. Absurd and unreasonable for the human mind.
And yet, deep down, concepts such as eternity are things he has seen and been unimpressed by them.
He's walked to the beginning of a universe and watched its birth pangs, seen that which existed before the laws of the universe were writ in stone: a formless and howling pit of madness. He has watched the force of gravity snake away from the grand unified force at the very beginning of everything and observed the electromagnetic force follow suit, leaving the nuclear forces together. But even those sibling forces split apart and became their own entities.
All of this he witnessed in an area of the abyss where time behaved differently, where an hour for lunch was as long as the formation of a universe. A place where his perception of time fundamentally altered so that he could witness it as nothing more than a few glorious hours of entertainment, where a Planck time was an observable phenomenon for a human.
For pure entertainment, he witnessed and recorded events that would utterly revolutionise modern-day science. Compared to the trivialities found in every corner of the abyss, it is nothing more special than another setting sun.
Is it truly so absurd? Mikumo asks.
"Make me a promise," Izuku says, standing and facing them. "Promise me that you'll stay with me. Promise me the two of you won't ever leave me."
"If you don't kick me off a cliff again," Shouto says wryly.
That startles a laugh out of Izuku, a single clear note. And for a moment, it seems like the entire world brightens with his joy. He looks to Fumikage and offers him a smile. Dark Shadow is gone, returned to the safety of its master's soul.
"And you?"
"I swore an oath to you once. Have you forgotten it already?"
"I guess I have."
He rubs his scar awkwardly, knowing it could only have been from the Battle Trial so long ago. Honestly, he was so hopped up on meds and anti-psychotics that he hardly remembers his first few weeks of school.
Still, from the sadness in Fumikage's eyes, it must have been important to him.
"I promise I won't forget it this time."
"I swore that so long as I lived, you would always have an ally in me," Fumikage says solemnly. "I do not mean to break any oaths I make. They have guided me well. Perhaps they will guide me well in the far future."
Izuku forces a grin and stands. He pulls Fumikage and Shouto with him, not caring for their protests. It doesn't matter that he barely comes up to Shouto's shoulder or that Fumikage is a finger or two taller than him.
They stand as equals. Nothing as mundane as height can change that. Not when the crystal nightmares of his bones and the dreaming dead gods within his spine whisper that unequivocal truth. Come what will, there will always be fire and darkness and life that arises.
Nothing can change that.
"Alright," he says, accepting what is. "The three of us. To the very end."
"To the end" Shouto agrees.
"We three kings," Fumikage says, nodding. "I suppose I can live with you two miscreants as friends."
Just for that, Izuku pushes him off the edge and into the ocean. His friend squawks as he tips over, flailing his arms wildly as he falls. He lands with a large splash.
A few moments later, he surfaces. His feathers are matted to his skin and he looks completely undignified, nothing at all like a king. Izuku smiles, bright as a sun exploding.
He reaches out to help pull Fumikage out.
"Was this necessary?"
Izuku laughs, clasping hands with Fumikage. "Absolutely." He pulls with all his strength, lifting Fumikage partially out of the water.
Which is, of course, when Shouto pushes him forward.
His life is absurd and filled with madness. Maybe this is all a hallucination brought on by a psychotic break—and, honestly, that idea fills him with both dread and peace. Maybe there isn't a happy ending with powers that can destroy the universe, but right now, all he cares about is getting revenge and forcing Shouto into the water.
For a few minutes at least, he can put his mind away from conversations of godhood and an unclear future, and just be a kid again. A kid who doesn't have to bear the sins of his father and the whims of a cruel universe.
He can be a kid who mercilessly drags Shouto underwater the moment he catches the bastard.
AN:
Well, there ya go. A bit of worldbuilding and a lot of answers.
So, I'm going to be going on hiatus for a bit. This story quickly went from something I did for fun to a fulltime job, hobby, my destresser, and a major stresser as well. A lot of it came from treating this season as though it was only as long as season 1 or 2 when it's longer than both by a big chunk. So whenever I came to the conclusion this season was done, something else popped up. And by the time I was nearing the end, the quality lagged a lot. And I don't want to release shit for the next 10 chapters. At this point, you guys have the grounding necessary to go into the second half of this story. You know the major players and their affiliations as well as the state of the world, even if not all the details. The rest of this season covers really going into depth to set up the grand story of the world. And you know what, I don't want that to be a half baked poorly edited mess.
So, I'm taking a while off to get the rest of this season in a state I enjoy without having to take time away from school, my personal life or my health. This chapter is the perfect stopping point for a while.
If you've enjoyed this, let me know. If not, let me know as well. But as always, your readership is more than enough for me. Cheers. I'll see you when I'm back.