'I would often question myself and my actions when I saw the futility to them. Even now, I wonder if I have truly made a change. Injustice and cruelty still reign. Graviton Lance encapsulated this on the eve of Titan's Fall. He asked me over a glass of beer: Where must you go, you who wanders this broken world in search of your better self? In many ways, he was the greatest teacher I had. It is the nature of my struggle. Have I been kind and just? Have I been compassionate and protected people for good reasons? Have I found the final form of Yui Ikari in this broken world?'
—Excerpt from 'My Eclipse' by Hawkmoon.
Hisashi Midoriya knows the Emperor of Japan is displeased by his presence in a closed meeting room. Hisashi also knows that he doesn't care. Right now, mankind is facing extinction.
His son stumbles when they land, confused by all the people around him. Shouto is there to steady him.
"I know none of you is pleased to see me but I think it is time to set aside our differences aside in the face of this threat."
He shows his empty palms, a peaceable gesture that means nothing. Everyone knows he doesn't fight with his fists or with a weapon. He has other means to battle.
"Our personal differences can wait," Fumikage says, looking straight at the Emperor.
Only now does Hisashi realise he has been blinded. It looks like someone took a hot poker to his eyes. We're really fucked.
Izuku gasps softly, realising the issue as well. Thankfully Shouto touches his elbow before he can head towards Fumikage.
"Do you know what they are?" one of the Royal Guard, Itinerant, asks snidely. "Or are you just here to make noise?"
The two don't like each other and never have. Hisashi will rejoice the day the bastard dies. In the three decades they've known each other, they hardly could be in the same room as each other. Whatever started their enmity is long forgotten. It doesn't matter. There is work that needs to be done.
"The Singers. They're primordial to darkness. Before life. Before disparity. Before godflame. Before the dark even formed the support structures of the abyss, these things existed. They were… Even the most ancient of creatures in the abyss didn't exist when these things reigned. There are stories and legends that were guarded by the Elder trees and dragons."
He's glad that everyone in the room knows about the details of the abyss and the great powers. Hisashi personally suffered through an interrogation with the heads of the Royal Lines currently in the room with him. He also extensively modified the dossiers the combatants in the room utilise.
"The Singers hate life and love and heat," he continues. "They hate everything we represent. All they wish to do is sing us out of existence and return everything to that primordial darkness."
"When you say sing—"
Hisashi rolls his eyes so aggressively that it makes the lady shut up. "Let me finish already. Anyway, these things will destroy us. There won't even be ashes left once they get through." He gestures to Shouto. "Thanks to him, we have a bit more time. Days maybe."
"Days? That's not a lot."
"Itinerant, fuck off. We had seconds before. Now we have a chance to survive."
He keeps an eye on Izuku who has a nasty expression. His son probably takes insults to his loved ones as well as Hisashi, which is to say he retaliates with horrifying threats and acts of violence.
The Emperor raises his hand to forestall any argument. "Itinerant, recuse yourself if you cannot contribute anything productive." The old man sets his gaze on Shouto. "What time estimate are we looking at?"
"Four days if we get lucky," Shouto says. "Two at least."
"Then we must work with that minimum," the Emperor says. "Tell us your plan, Hisashi."
Hisashi nods.
"The plan is simple in concept. We have five Singers and the only reason we're still alive is that they're not used to being in a place made up of so much godflame. That, and the fact that they're mostly asleep and not paying attention to this realm."
"Those things are asleep right now?" Maya asks. Hisashi nods. "We had to cut all outside communications because seeing images of them were killing people."
"That should tell you what kind of threat we're facing. Make no mistake, if they were here in full force their physical forms would shatter the universe. In a single moment, they could destroy this reality if they paid any attention to it. We're working on limited time. Those things we're looking at are nothing more than the shadows of their future intent still adapting to the godflame. This is where they're at their absolute weakest."
He lets that sink in for a moment.
"It's gonna be like a switch. One moment, we still have a chance. The next, they're here, completely. And when that happens, we die. End of story. If that happens then it's game over. We win or we die."
"Well fuck."
Izuku looks to him. "Father, what's the plan?"
"We're going seal them in another self-contained reality and lock the door forever, cutting it from everything else. We're gonna seal them beyond everything, throw away the key and forget the door exists. The way we'll achieve this is simple. With my abilities, I can take four of them to another world. I'll bait them to that world and seal them away."
Izuku turns sharply, eyes wide. "No, you'll—"
"He's made this choice," Fumikage says gently. "Do not insult his decision. He does this for you. For Kouta. For all of us."
The Emperor shifts, drawing everyone's attention. "That still leaves one."
"I think three kings can take one on easily enough but I have a plan for that as well." He looks to his son and his friends. "Fumikage, you'll be tasked with chaining it's physical form in this world and binding the rest of its mass still travelling in the abyss. Shouto, burn away the infernal engine that powers it in the abyss. And Izuku, you'll have the task of destroying its physical form."
Fumikage hums. "The level of force needed to that would be immense. It might even destroy a continent."
"Probably enough force to destroy the earth," Hisashi agrees. "Which is why we're gonna do this on the moon."
Even Izuku looks perplexed. It is a sentiment shared by the rest of the room.
"Is that necessary? We could just as easily use Mars. All three of us can warp there."
"The risk is too great. Izuku's powers will call to them more than the beacon I'll use." He gestures at Fumikage and Shouto. "You two are just different variations of everything they hate. Not worth the risk. We need a location that can be reached through manmade means."
"It takes days to reach the moon," Itinerant says. "No one's bothered with space travel since quirks appeared.
"No, it doesn't," Izuku says softly.
Fumikage glances at him. "Izuku?"
"The team at the Tanegashima Space centre made it to Mars faster than usual. They turned a five-month journey into a two-month trip. It was a one-man ship. They built it as proof it was possible. They built it as a monument to advancement in a stagnant age. They still have it on exhibition. It could be retrofitted."
"There's a flaw to this plan," Itinerant says. "That's a one-person rocket."
Hisashi smirks. "Which is where you come in."
"I don't like this plan already."
"We don't need to get all three of them to the moon," Hisashi explains. "Shouto's job is just going to be to generate as much power as he can. And there's one giant source of power in the sky."
Shouto cocks his head. "Oh, I see. You want me to use it as a catalyst and a distraction."
Hisashi nods. "We'll use the rocket to get you in space. You draw as much power as you can before we go loud. Best case scenario after we get rid of the other four, we need to deal with the last one. I'll open a portal to the moon. Itinerant will keep it open.
"This plan gets more complicated the longer you speak."
"I know. How are we getting the last Singer on the moon? I don't know the details but I sincerely hope Itinerant's power will cover that as well. Fumikage and Izuku will be on the moon dealing with the last Singer."
The Emperor tilts his head slightly. "Hisashi, your plan is… it will be difficult to sell to the affected parties."
Izuku clicks his teeth. "If they're actively hindering us then they're an enemy to humanity."
"I find I agree," Fumikage adds. "Execute any dissenters on the spot. We do not have time for trials."
"It will be done, Inquisitor." The Emperor glances back at Hisashi. "What level of certainty is there?"
None, but Hisashi doesn't tell them that. None of this is tested or known. He's making assumptions and pulling ideas out of his ass. It's what he's good at. That ability to plan around his enemies and come up with contingencies is why he was feared and respected by both the Emperor and All For One.
"Do you have a better plan?" He waits a long minute for no one to say anything. "I thought so. We can iron out the details, but we have a hope for survival now."
-TDB-
Pulling away his friends takes more effort than Izuku Midoriya would like. Everyone is under a state of panic and those wearing the Emperor's colours tend to look at Fumikage for answers. Shouto simply follows Izuku like a lost puppy.
"Your eyes," Izuku says once they're alone.
They're in a tiny office and Izuku feels sorry for the person who works in it. There's barely enough room for a desk and chair, let alone three extra people. Izuku has found a perch on the desk, Shouto the chair and Fumikage leans against the wall.
Fumikage rubs his palms over his ruined eyes. A woman in white had forced a specialist to attend to him all the while Fumikage had sworn off anaesthesia and continued working. It had been an odd site seeing the specialist peel away burnt flesh whilst Fumikage tried ironing out the details of Hisashi's terrible plan.
"Growing new ones will take some time," Fumikage says. "The thought that they could do this to me when I looked at it is…"
"I didn't even have to look," Izuku says to fill the pained silence. "The moment they came, I lost control of my powers. My eyes didn't survive."
Shouto sighs and shrugs. When he stops moving, Izuku sees a gaping emptiness where his eyes were.
"Well fuck," Izuku says. "They blinded the three of us like it was nothing. Are you going to be okay?"
"Mine will regrow," Fumikage says.
"I'll figure something out."
Izuku nods. This is like an amalgamation of his deepest nightmares all come true. He'd come close to the seal holding back the Singers right at the very beginning but elder dragons had turned him around. He'd ignored it because there was so much else to deal with. What reason would he have to think seals older than light would suddenly break?
"I'm going to go check on my family," Shouto says. "Go do whatever you need to do."
What they need to do is go for another meeting. It's not the same meeting room as before. This one has massive screens covering the long ends of the room, a rectangular table in the centre.
Izuku and Fumikage take their seats as other people stream in. For an emergency, he honestly expected more excitement, but he's coming to understand that excitement is the last thing anyone wants. The more boring the plan and the meetings, the more likely nothing is going to go horribly wrong.
Until they start singing and then we're all fucked.
The screens all come on at once, showing all those remote conferencing this meeting. Izuku would love it if someone else could deal with this, but he is the one who brought most of these people together.
"This is now a joint task force for the survival of mankind," Izuku begins. "We represent every fighting force of any importance in Japan."
He gestures to either side of him. The screens display the leadership of the Lightning Bolts and what has become of the League. They are his allies, and he hopes they will follow his commands. If not, then Shuichi will ensure they do.
"My allies." He nods to Fumikage at the head of the table to Izuku's left. "The representatives of the Imperial Household, Guardswoman Izanami and Fumikage Tokoyami. Opposite him is our current abyssal expert."
Which happens to be Hisashi. He looks rundown worse than usual. In the span of a few hours, his greying hair has almost entirely become white. Hisashi looks more like Izuku's grandfather than his parent. It's not helped by the frailty that grips him as the day has progressed. It might be the strain of having walked the abyss to find Shouto and experiencing the Singer's abhorrent influence.
Across from Izuku are the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Only Admiral Kadomatsu is physically present but that's more than Izuku was expecting. Apparently, Shuichi is a surprisingly good negotiator. After Shouto and his father had stolen Izuku, ditching Shuichi in the process, the man had gotten the Joint Chiefs to give their support. Somehow.
"You've all been sent the plan. We have nothing better. Nuclear weapons will not work as the Americans proved."
That had been terrifying to find out. Right in the middle of their prior meeting a nuclear warning had gone out. Thankfully, it hadn't been aimed at them as they soon discovered. No, someone in the American chain of command had authorised a nuclear submarine to fire its entire payload of nuclear armaments.
It had done nothing but incinerate a large swathe of land around the incursion site in New York City. The death count had been chilling, currently in the low millions, but undoubtedly rising. For it to have been done so quickly, without any hesitation, had been horrifying.
Worse still, the orders hadn't been authorised by the government. Whether it was an admiral who gave the order or the ship's captain acting autonomously doesn't matter. The act had been committed and had served as a startling reminder of how dangerous navies can be.
Whatever comes next, Izuku plans on making sure the navy is on his side.
The Admiral rubs his eyes. "So, these creatures will Sing? Best guess is that it is a wave that will completely unravel genetic codes and revert any organic compound to its base atoms. And then cause… neutron degeneracy. I don't even know what that is."
"Something that only happens with a neutron star," Izuku says. "In layman's terms, it means that even if the Singing doesn't kill everyone, our own atoms will destroy everything else."
"And you've verified this theory?"
"Best guess we have so far."
"Right, and the entire plan hinges on luring them away before they start Singing, yes. What certainty do you have that they won't start singing before the plan is enacted?"
Izuku blinks slowly, realising that they never gave that any thought. They were so busy scrambling to get anything viable, but now that it's been brought up, he can't think of a single reason. He glances to his father and realises he overlooked that as well.
"Admiral," Hisashi says, "there is no guarantee of that. There's no guarantee that any part of this will work. This plan is hastily cobbled together working on unverified theories against an enemy outside our understanding."
Surprisingly, the Admiral cracks a smile. "So, we're sailing blind into a tsunami in the middle of an enemy fleet. I suppose we'll all have to be brave if we wish to survive. What is the main bottleneck of this plan?"
"That would be me as well. My quirk can be… supercharged, I suppose is a good enough term. But if we do it wrong and I die, then everyone's dead anyway."
"Do it right the first time because we don't get a second shot. Keep us appraised of the timeline."
Hisashi nods and the Admiral sits down.
A weathered General clears his throat. "We've encountered three major spawning grounds across Tokyo and are in the process of quarantining the city. We've been advised that fire is our ally?"
Hisashi and Fumikage both nod.
"The Imperial Household will cooperate fully to eliminate this threat," Hisashi says, staring straight at Fumikage.
"As will we," Crawler says.
Guardswoman Izanami lays a hand on Fumiikage's shoulder. "We will deal with the three spawning grounds. Unfortunately, this threat is great enough that we must assume everyone in those areas is infected."
A map appears, highlighting the affected areas in Tokyo. It isn't the entire metropolitan area, but the infected area is still heart-wrenching.
"That's three hundred thousand people."
"Yes. We mean to cleanse them all. Each person there has the potential to become a spawning ground later." Fumikage leans forward. "Every government in the world needs to burn down any infected region and leave nothing. Not even ash."
The League representative clears her throat. "I don't think you understand what kind of destruction that will cause. New York being nuked might be bad but it's not the worst. We've received intelligence from Brazil that spawning grounds are appearing in the surrounding area. Europe is currently the worst affected with sighting as far west as Prague. Abyssal sightings have spiked around the Mediterranean. They aren't taking any chances and are carpet bombing entire city districts with each verified sighting."
"Anywhere else?" the Admiral asks.
"Smaller sightings in West Africa. Madagascar's been locked down completely after a surge of sightings. The Southern African fleets have it encircled and every missile battery from Durban to Mombasa is on red-alert."
"What are we looking at for a casualty projection?"
"Assuming we follow a scorched Earth policy and if we're very lucky, maybe a hundred and fifty million."
Izuku's hearts both stop for a moment. He knows how large that number is. He once counted to a billion out of boredom whilst in the abyss. It doesn't make it any less daunting. That is nothing short of a catastrophic loss of human life.
For someone who loves life, who loves humanity for all its failings and glories, that figure is an insult to everything he stands for.
The meeting lasts hours more. That number dislodges the last vestiges of hesitance amongst them. The time for bickering and factionalism is gone. Right now, everyone is focused on keeping mankind alive another day.
By the time it is done, Izuku has a headache the size of a mountain. It is partly to do with seeing the projected casualty counts and partly to do with the presence of the Singers. They are like five picks of pain in his brain.
He uses the wall outside to steady himself as he heads to… he doesn't know, but there should be something he needs to attend to. He walks straight into someone which makes him stumble.
A strong grip steadies him.
"Your situational awareness is usually better," Fumikage says in his deep voice. It's always a surprise compared to what he remembers from their younger years.
Shouto's put on enough height that he's nearly as tall as Endeavour. Fumikage has also grown a head taller than Izuku. He's filled out, packing on muscle on his originally lanky frame. There's a solidness inherent to him.
Izuku feels he hasn't grown in comparison. He's the same height and maybe his voice has deepened an octave, but anyone who knew him five years ago would recognise him immediately.
"Tired," he admits. "I haven't stopped moving for months."
Fumikage clicks his teeth together. "Rest, my friend."
"There's too much to do."
Fumikage grips his shoulder harder. His presence has always been like an anchor.
"Trust in us. You will need to be centred when preparations are complete. If you cannot believe in your own power, then it will all be for nothing."
"But—"
"What can you do? Your powers call to them. We cannot move forward with the plan without your father being ready. You've given your orders and they will be followed."
"Why should I be allowed to rest when everyone else is busy?"
Fumikage glares at him. With his eyes closed to hide their emptiness, it is muted slightly, but the burnt flesh slowly healing makes up for it. There is a ring of singed feather around his eyes, brittle and hard.
"We are more than human, Izuku. More than anything, I believe we are creatures of story and legend. The story we told of ourselves, of the obstacles we conquered has defined our divinity. You must believe in yourself if you wish to win this threat. You aren't a coward for resting when there is nothing left for you to do."
Put like that, there isn't much Izuku can offer as an argument.
"Alright. I guess I can check on Kouta."
Finding Kouta proves harder than he expects. No one is focused on keeping track of a little boy. The nursery building he'd thrown him in claims he escaped sometime during the chaos of the last few hours. He searches their temporary home and finds the boy in the room Izuku claimed as his office.
He is distracted by a sheaf of papers, brows furrowed in confusion.
"Hey," Izuku says, not wanting to startle him.
Kouta's eyes snap up. There is suspicion on his face. But there is no hate. No loathing.
"The hell is this crap? I see my name but it's all big words and shit."
Izuku cocks his head. He isn't particularly angry with Kouta for escaping confinement or rifling through his files. Better open defiance than some form of fear. In his own way, this is Kouta's way of accepting what Izuku did. He might not be over it, but he can see the necessity of it.
That or kids are just resilient and move one easily.
The papers are from those in the safe. How Kouta knows the password is a mystery but it's not important. He glances over the writing once and immediately understands Kouta's confusion.
"This was found in mum's safe," Izuku says, handing the papers back. "I found it in the rubble. The first few pages were lost in the fire but this is the important stuff."
"What is it?"
"The boring legal part of adoption papers. She wanted you to be part of the family." Izuku smiles at Kouta's stunned expression. "She loved you. I don't think you really understand how much she loved you. Honestly, she probably cared about you more than me by the end."
Grief strikes Kouta hard and fast. The expression is ugly and pitiful. "But, I'm not—"
Izuku silences him with a crushing hug. "Don't say something stupid. You're family. You're my brother."
"I don't deserve this," Kouta whispers hoarsely. "Everyone I love dies and leaves me."
"I'm never going to leave you. I made you a promise, didn't I?"
"Yeah. Kouta Midoriya," he says slowly. "It sounds strange."
"You don't have to make a choice now or ever. I'll always be with you no matter what happens. You'll always be my brother."
-TDB-
Shouto Todoroki spends what little time he has left watching over his family from a distance. They are safe, moved closer to their current location at Shouto's behest.
Both his mother and Fuyumi carry their golden snowflakes with them and through them, Shouto can sense the world around them. His family is safe. Uncertain and scared, but they are alive. He has a mother unlike Izuku, one who is comforting her children. He still has a father even if he's doing his best impression of a stone statue, unlike Izuku's father who is going to die.
I'm so sorry, he thinks, knowing that Izuku's grief will be unbearable once he processes it. Maybe Fumikage can deal with it. He's good with children.
He'll have to. Shouto doesn't know how to deal with that kind of grief. Mortals die and that's a fact. The Todoroki family will die out one day, maybe not with his siblings, but certainly in a few generations. Shouto will attend the funerals and be present for those that remain, but he won't act like it hurts.
Someone pokes him on the forehead. Shouto opens his eyes and for a split second thinks he's looking at Izuku. It clears up and he sees Izuku's father instead, sitting cross-legged across from Shouto.
"What are you thinking of?"
"Human mortality."
They're sitting in an empty room with no furniture. It is just the two of them. For Shouto's current work, it will be better if there are no distractions. This is new and uncharted territory. He's never manipulated a human soul.
It's odd because whilst human souls—and a lot of creatures in the abyss as well—have souls made of godflame, there's an aspect to them that Shouto can't touch. He can widen the connections that attach parts of Hisashi's soul to his memory and body and quirk, but he couldn't create one if he tried his hardest.
Human souls are far more complicated than simulating an entire universe under specific parameters because they aren't truly his domain. The godflame made the environment for humans to exist but life finds a way regardless. It had no hand in shaping them. Human life just found itself attuned to godflame.
Fumikage would probably have an easier time doing this. He's like a surgeon compared to Shouto's blunt instrument.
"That's a heavy topic. Especially when you've seen alternate realities almost identical to your own."
Shouto hums, extending the foundation of Hisashi's soul. He imagines it like thousands of pillars extending out into the darkness, ready for when Shouto inevitably builds upward.
Whilst he might want to rearrange the structure of his soul, all Shouto can truly do is make copies and haphazardly meld them together with soul-fire. It is a shoddy job and won't last more than two days. The way he's done it isn't natural.
Maybe if he could see that same thing Fumikage sees in life, then maybe Shouto wouldn't be shortening Hisashi's lifespan. But it's the same reason he can't bring the dead back to life. Once untethered from the human body, Shouto has no power over the soul.
If humanity ever evolved past needing the godflame, if they figured out how to use even the tiniest shred of darkness for their souls, Shouto would be unable to touch them.
"Yeah. Have you figured out a plan to lead them away?"
It's the one aspect of the plan they're still uncertain of. The others don't even know it is an issue, but Shouto does. For whatever reason, Hisashi knows Shouto will follow the plan regardless of how terrible it is.
"Yes."
"And?"
"The Singers are creatures of primordial darkness. What else would they follow but a king?"
Shouto takes a shuddering breath. He takes care not to crush Hisashi's soul.
"I don't like that future."
"I don't as well. Only my son can drag them away."
Understanding blossoms within Shouto's plan. There is a way around this. A way that keeps him together with whom he loves.
"You have two sons."
"I know."
Hisashi may have an excellent poker face, but Shouto is quite literally holding his soul. He can feel the grief and regret, a tidal wave of it that Shouto chokes on. It is bleak and endless, a dark ocean that his indifference can't compete with.
"An impossible choice."
Hisashi chuckles bitterly. "We all know you only care about one of my sons."
"Yes."
"And we all know you'll let everything die before you lose him."
"Yes." Shouto shrugs. "We three kings."
That promise binds them together and Shouto refuses to break it under any circumstance. If it means sacrificing Izuku's twin then what does it matter? Mikumo was dead most of Izuku's life. He'll learn to live without him.
Hisashi sees that indifference. Malice enters his soul, blisteringly hot and eternally hostile. "What do you think he'll do if he ever learns you forced the choice?"
"Find a way to kill me. When he realises he can't, he'll probably hate me. Except, you won't tell him."
"Give me one reason."
The answer is obvious. "Because you want your son to be happy."
It isn't fair because Shouto can see the very core of Hisashi's soul. The foundation of his being has always been his love for his family. Every choice, every terrible mistake, has been driven by his need to love his family. They may not have been good choices, but they were the choices he knew.
Endeavour is no different, he realises. Everything he did to me, he did for our family.
"Damn me." Hisashi glares at him, defeated. Tears are threatening to run free. "Damn you."
"Damn us all."
Shouto lets go of Hisashi's soul, knowing it has reached saturation point. Any further and it will collapse just like a supermassive star. Hisashi will be a burning husk if he pushes any further. Bright and luminous like a collapsing star, but useless for their purposes.
"We're done for today."
"Four days is what you gave us. Do you think that will hold up?"
Shouto considers that. The protection he cast is weakening and weakening fast. Summoning the net had been a colossal expenditure of godflame, the greatest he's ever called on, and it isn't doing much to delay the Singers.
The creatures are slowly realising there is a barrier before them. That's how indifferent they are to Shouto. His greatest feat is so far beneath them that it's taken them a few years, relatively speaking, to even register its existence. The barest minimum of the tiniest fraction of their attention has done more damage in a real hour than everything the relative year they had before.
"I'm not the optimist in the group."
Hisashi shudders once his soul is slotted back in place. He seems to fill up the room more, his presence demanding greater attention. And that presence has nothing but disdain for Shouto.
"Then I suppose the decision needs to be made now, not later. Meet me downstairs."
He lets Hisashi go first before ambling downstairs where Izuku and Fumikage are gathered. They both look like they've been interrupted from their work. Of the three, Shouto does the least related to human interests. Oh sure, he starts wars here and there, but he doesn't give orders to people.
He can leave that to those who have some modicum of social skills.
"I take it none of us will enjoy this meeting?" Fumikage asks.
"Not at all," Hisashi agrees. "You guys are going to have to make a choice and it's going to be a hard choice. Which Singer to leave here."
Shouto nearly rolls his eyes. He already has an answer for that and it's the choice that will bring him the most benefit once this crisis is over.
"Should we not leave it to the world governments?"
"Those idiots won't get shit decided and there's no one above you. Whichever one we leave will do the most damage. If they start Singing, that one will Sing the longest before you destroy it." Hisashi sighs. "I'm going to be honest, it'll come down to one simple choice. Are you willing to let everyone you love die?"
"Oh," Izuku says softly, finally understanding the choice. "Why is it that every time you open your mouth about this plan, things get worse?"
"Because we're facing extinction. I'm going to be dead either way. I don't have a right to make this choice." Hisashi runs a hand through his hair. "Japan got lucky. If those cultists hadn't summoned it off the coast, we might not have much of a country
"China isn't as lucky," Fumikage says, his hands balled up into fists. "New York City. Moscow. Asuncion in Paraguay. Each region is a major population centre in the tens, no, if we assume the worst then we're looking at hundreds of millions."
"Exactly."
"You're asking us to choose who is worthy of life," Fumikage says quietly. "Whichever Singer we choose, we kill hundreds of millions as a consequence."
"Yeah, I'm asking you to decide on the biggest genocide in human history." Hisashi rubs his eyes. "If you leave it in Japan, at most two hundred million will die. But, if we assume the worst, we're looking at a massive kill radius. We can assume all of East China at a minimum. Western Russia and Eastern Europe won't exist. The one in Paraguay will take a third of the continent. Say goodbye to everything from Washington to Montreal, maybe more, if we leave the one in New York."
"And then Japan," Izuku whispers. He looks sick, only staying up because of Fumikage's steadying hand. "You can't ask us…"
Hisashi kneels before his son. "Izuku, I'm willing to die for you. Whatever choice you make, know that I still love you. That your mother loves you. But it's time to buck up and make this choice."
The shadows are deepening and Shouto can feel a violent storm brewing outside. Izuku is the perfect picture of horror and grief.
"I'm sorry, son." Hisashi stands, meeting all three of their eyes. "It's got to be you. No one else has more of a right to make this choice than you three. Without you three, mankind is dead anyway."
Fumikage scoffs. "You might argue that this choice wouldn't exist if we weren't here."
"Maybe, so," Hisashi agrees, walking towards the door. He glances over his shoulder, his smile brittle and sorrowful. "The choices of gods and kings aren't for mere men to pass judgement. Only you can do that."
And with that, Hisashi leaves.
"We choose whether the lives of those we love are worth a few hundred million dying," Fumikage says, eyes closed. "If we let Japan die, we may save a few hundred million lives. If we let Japan live, others who may have survived will die because of our choice."
Shouto really wishes they could skip the moralising because it's a simple choice as far as he is concerned.
Japan happens to be where all his favourite humans live. His mother and Fuyumi and his two brothers. They're enough to make this choice. Could he possibly move them to another country? Yes. Does he want to leave Japan? Not for another few years at least.
Learning a new language is a huge hassle. Those lives aren't worth the inconvenience.
"The hardest numbers game in history," Fumikage says.
Fumikage stands and walks towards the bar, retrieving a bottle and drinking straight from it. Gulp after gulp until it is finished. Then he takes another bottle and returns to them.
"I don't want to make this choice," Izuku says, glaring at them both and refusing the bottle.
"We've already made the choice," Fumikage says, looking to Shouto who nods. "The cold calculus of survival. Not all life is made equal. Japan with one hundred and sixty million should be the obvious choice. It is nothing compared to the other locations. Two hundred million in European Russia, for example."
Shouto is glad at least one person can see the only viable option they have. "Over two hundred million in East China and around Paraguay," he continues. "The logic should be simple but for one factor."
Fumikage nods. "Everyone we love lives in Japan."
They both look at Izuku who is so exhausted it makes Shouto want to hold him and promise everything will be alright. But it won't. This doesn't have a happy ending. It will be blood and death and suffering. Shouto could have made the choice but Izuku would have hated them. Fumikage as well but the result would be the same.
As Hisashi said, no one stands above them. Only they can make this choice.
"I just want to make things better for everyone," Izuku finally says, his voice cracking and stuttering.
"Start with your home," Fumikage says, reaching for Izuku. "Save Japan and when the dust has settled, save what remains of the world."
A flash of rage crosses Izuku. He bats aside Fumikage's hand and moves to stand opposed to the two of them. "Who do their lives matter less? They're people, too."
"But not our people. Name one person you know from Paraguay or Brazil or Argentina. Name one living person you know from that region."
"You know I can't," he says, all animal grief. Tears are threatening to fall and Shouto knows how ugly that sight will be.
Still, Shouto presses on. "That only leaves China. You know we'll be their first targets when this is done."
He knows for a fact that if china sees weakness then they'll come after Japan. They won't care that mankind nearly suffered an extinction event. The war had been a loss for them when they had every advantage. Japan suffering a civil war. China with numerical superiority. To lose so soon after their loss in Vancouver had been their biggest blunder in a century. It had embarrassed them on the international stage.
Shouto can't see Izuku's future nor can he see Fumikage's. The Singers obscure everything else with their malevolence. But he can remember the many futures he saw. One way or the other, China will always be an enemy. One way or another, it'll have to be dealt with.
Using the Singer means Shouto can wipe his hands clean of the affair. He can win the war before it starts.
Shouto has plans on giving Izuku this Earth as a present. He'll place him on a throne built on blood and bone and hand deliver the crown. Shouto will do the dirty work and give Izuku his society whether he wants it at the end or not.
It's the least he can do for Izuku after everything he's done for Shouto.
"We can't justify this."
"Ten million in place of one person you love," Fumikage says. "My mother. My father. The children. That's a hundred million right there. Shouto, what of you?"
"My mother. Fuyumi. Touya. Naoto. Forty million."
They both stare at Izuku. "It's just my dad and Kouta. Twenty million. We can't justify this. We're four lives short."
"Ojiro," Fumikage says.
"Bakugou," Shouto adds, realising suddenly that he'll never like him. "Momo."
Izuku shakes his head. "That's it. Not enough. We can't justify this"
"Everyone you helped in Hokkaido," Shouto says. "Everyone from 1-B. Crawler. Shuichi. The Lightning Bolts. That police officer who gave us shit.
Fumikage takes a long swig of his drink. "The girl in the sunflower dress and every girl like her after we do this. Stain, even." He laughs bitterly and only now can Shouto see his tears. "We thought we were gods and kings but this is what it means to be a king. To choose who lives or dies. Long live the kings."
Shouto nods. "Love live the kings." He meets Izuku's gaze. "If people must die, don't make it everyone we love. Don't take our home from us."
Izuku wars with the decision. Outside, the weather has turned violent with hail slamming against the windows, one impact after another. Shouto waits patiently as Izuku wars with himself because there is only one sensible decision.
What kind of monster kills their loved ones for the greater good?
No matter Izuku's deepest fears, he isn't a monster. He may be kind and compassionate and loving, but he gives those feelings to his loved ones first. In everything that Izuku has ever done, he's never risked his family. His own health and safety, yes, his own comfort and happiness, yes, but never once were Kouta or his mother and his father pieces on the board to sacrifice.
Shouto imagines he sees the spectre of All Might, of All For One, in his bearing. The memory of Izuku's two greatest teachers remains, both warring against each other. All Might wouldn't have been able to make this decision. All For One would have made it faster than Shouto.
Finally, Izuku lifts his head and the spectre of All Might vanishes. There is hate in his eyes and anger on his face, rage on the wind and grief in the shadows. He straightens his back and draws himself to his full height, short by any metric, but never small. He fills the room with his presence. The choice had threatened to break him, but he stands tall regardless.
"For those we love." Lightning crashes down outside, illuminating the world in sickly green light. "We three kings."
-TDB-
Momo Yaoyorozu enters the room she gave to Katsuki and his group only to enter a fight.
She expertly ducks beneath the thrown vase, mentally cataloguing how much it costs. Somewhere in the range of half a million. By the damage of the other ornaments, they destroyed the rest. A few million dollars in damage that Momo will have to pay for with her spending account. She's not getting a new yacht.
Maybe a small one, she thinks. I could probably charter it to for some hero themed trip around the world. Dad will probably foot the bill if it's a business pitch.
That's a thought for if there is an earth left. Now she must figure out why there's a brawl involving Shindo and everyone else.
"My best friends are there!" Shindo shoves Jirou back.
Not a smart idea. Ibara's vines snake across the room and wrap around Shindo's leg. Then he's flying into the wall, unfortunately destroying a painting.
I'm definitely not getting a yacht.
Momo claps her hands together. "Stop this!"
Everyone in the room freezes. Momo never shouts, she barely even raises her voice above audible levels. They've fought together and even then, she didn't shout or scream. This is uncharted territory for everyone.
She genuinely doesn't understand how Katsuki shouts all day long. It hurts her throat and makes her nauseous.
"Now, you lot have collectively destroyed enough stuff that I'm not getting a yacht. Your fight had better have been worth my new yacht."
"Greed is a sin, Momo."
"Yeah, well so is… I don't know, property destruction. So, anyone want to tell me why you're fighting?"
Intelli coughs. "Shindo is being an idiot."
Shindo turns on the spot, teeth bared. "My god damned friends are there."
Katsuki, who hadn't participated so far, punches Shindo. It's a good punch all things considered. Strong enough to rock Shindo back and make his nose bleed.
"Now listen here, you little shit. This is the safest fucking place you can be. You think I don't want to be out there saving people? Fuck you."
Shindo wipes his nose with the back of his arm. "The fuck did you lose, you asshole?"
"My parents."
The room goes silent.
Katsuki forces Shindo up. "My parents were there. My dad's a doctor and refused to come when people needed help. My mother stayed with him. Mustafu's under quarantine. They're probably dead. So yeah, I fucking know what it's like. That's why your parents are here. Why all your families are here. Because I'm not fucking letting anyone do anything stupid."
"Put him down," Makabe says.
Katsuki glares at him but drops Shindo, taking a step back.
"You wanna go? I'll let you. I'll even come with you."
Jirou twitches violently. "Katsuki—"
"Fucking shut up, Jirou. Shut the fuck up." He glares at Shindo. "But if you go, you're gonna die. You're gonna leave your sister and brother alone. Your grandparents are gonna have to bury an empty casket. Everyone in here is gonna fucking grieve when you're gone. But if you go, I'll do my damndest to make sure you come back. We'll still probably die. It won't be glorious or memorable. We'll die terrified and probably shit our pants. But I won't let you die alone."
They don't leave.
Momo is grateful. She isn't ready to lose Katsuki.
She leads him to her rooms where no one will see his vulnerability. He's fraying around the edges and even a kiss does little to soothe his worries.
"I'm my mother's son," he says later.
She is using his legs to balance her laptop and his bare chest for two separate tablets. He doesn't make the best table, but it gives her the excuse to feel him inappropriately. He has no issues with her actions and after half an hour he is pliant, relaxed by her ministrations.
"Tell me about her."
"I just fucking did," he rumbles, flicking her ear. "My mother would have said the same thing. She's the one who taught me my curse words. Apparently, I started with fuck before I learnt shit. She beat the crap out of me on the regular and laughed about it."
Momo winces. That explains a bit too much about the Katsuki she first knew. Right now, he smiles wistfully, remembering those times. Momo won't ruin those memories for him.
"Was she a hero?"
"Fuck no. She could throw a mean punch and I saw her break someone's jaw once, but she wasn't a fighter. She liked her job in her trendy office with those stupid napping rooms and those even dumber giant balls. You know the ones you find in gyms. There was no way in hell she was ever leaving a job that let her go in pyjamas."
Momo snorts. She taps her tablet and gives the go-ahead for her military contractors to begin rescue operations in the region.
"She sounds interesting."
"Yeah, she was." He yawns and turns over, sending her stuff to the ground. "Sorry."
She kicks him hard in the back for that. He only gives her the middle finger.
Katsuki sleeps beside her, snoring softly. It amazes Momo that he can sleep right now. She casts her gaze over his features in sleep, so peaceful, unlike the violent and bombastic man she knows. And he is a man now. None of them are kids. They haven't been since the war. They all had to grow up and find themselves in a brave new world.
Bluster and arrogance and anger describe Katsuki. So too do vulnerability and heroism. In his own crass way, Momo sees the echo of All Might. She sees that willingness to keep on walking forward that made All Might beloved.
She leaves a kiss on his temple. He doesn't stir. When she says, "I love you," he stays perfectly still.
Momo huffs and leaves the bed. She puts on a robe and walks to the balcony. The air is warm and clammy, the sky above threatening something terrible.
Her estate is filled almost to the brim. Arguing with her parents to accept refugees had been worth it. All these people will be safer now within the boundary of her home. There are tents on the grounds and makeshift hospital where before there was useless opulence and decadence. She would go as far to say it was harmful to the human condition.
"This will make a good capital."
For some reason, she is completely unsurprised to see Shouto sitting on her balcony. She has seen the breadth of his power and knows the black flames that surrounded the Singers had been his doing. Deep in her soul, she can feel the stunning protection he cast over the universe, barely holding back the rest of these abominations.
She checks to make sure there isn't a line of sight to her bed. No, it's blocked by the vaulted archway. It isn't cheating to talk to Shouto, but she also doesn't want to fight with Katsuki if he sees. It would hurt him too much regardless of the truth.
"What'd you say?"
Shouto turns his head to her and smiles. "Nothing important right now."
"Your smiles are still terrible." She pokes him. "You're brooding. What happened?"
When you share a tiny room with someone for months on a cramped ship, you come to know them well. When that same person shows you the secrets of Creation, well, you come to know them better. She doesn't know Shouto anywhere close to how well she knows Katsuki, but she doubts more than a handful of people know Shouto. The real Shouto who is awkwardness and spite and indifference made manifest. Not the fake person he shows to the world.
"I made a hard choice. I guess I forced Izuku to make a terrible choice."
Momo can't imagine how bad it would have to be to force Shouto here. There aren't many people she knows who can casually burn down a city and start a war for entertainment. That he's here, brooding and regretful, worries her.
That, or he's overreacting because Midoriya is involved. Honestly, she feels that a lot of problems could be solved if they just got into bed together.
"What did you do?"'
"Do you know the plan?"
She nods. Admiral Kadomatsu had briefed her when she'd called since he owed her for helping facilitate a war. She'll collect on the rest of that favour if they make it out alive.
"It's not a terrible plan."
"Isn't it? What happens if they Sing early?" He's not paying her any attention. "I'm not stupid enough to hope for the best. In the best-case scenario, one will be left on this planet. That Singer will cause the most damage. It makes sense that we should choose the one in the least populous area."
Japan. He doesn't need to say it. Anyone who can look at a map knows that truth.
"You didn't."
"My family lives here. You live here. Everyone we know lives in Japan. The right choice, the one that will cause the least damage, is to leave it in Japan. It's not even in the country. We'd probably have time to think of something if it started Singing. A few seconds, yeah, but that's enough."
Momo swallows thickly, understanding. The immensity of the choice horrifies her. Tens of millions who might—will, the cynical part of her says—die because of this choice. Just the idea of it threatens to break her. The thought that Izuku, the same Izuku who could make villains want to be good people, had to make that choice makes her stomach lurch.
"Is he okay?"
Shouto shrugs. "He'll hold off on his breakdown until this is done. He was ready to choose Japan just like any good leader would. He was ready to make the selfless choice. I convinced him to make the selfish choice. I chose China because they're our enemy. I cast them aside and forced Izuku to decide they aren't worth living. Do you think I'm a bad person?"
For a moment, she wants to say yes. It would be easy to be petty and cruel, but Shouto doesn't deserve it. No one deserves that right now no matter their sins.
"I would have made the same choice," she admits. "But I think you can do better. We can all do better."
"Do you think a world without nukes is a better world?"
She rolls her eyes. "I wish we could have that world."
When she looks up again, he is gone, undoubtedly gone to do something stupid. Perhaps he's gone to do something heroic as well. With Shouto, it's impossible to know.
Momo huffs and heads back to her bed. She slides in behind Katsuki and wraps an arm around his waist.
Come what may tomorrow, at least she has this moment.