BP 14 Persona

It sounded like Kaachan. And if Izuku didn't look directly at it, he wouldn't think Kaachan was any different than he was twenty minutes ago, back when the world made sense and his friends weren't dimension-traveling vigilantes.

But Izuku looked. And he couldn't believe what he saw.

It was like he had traveled ten years into the past. The Kaachan Izuku used to know, the one that had still been his friend, the child who proudly proclaimed that he and Izuku would be heroes, together, hung off the jungle-gym bars that made up this alternate version of their middle school. But instead of wearing their pre-school uniform, or even a child-sized version of their middle school uniform, he was wearing… his hero costume. The one that they designed together during free time back when school was less about learning, and more about interacting with other children their age.

Kaachan was dressed in childish military fatigues, combat pants with combat boots, a black tank top intersected by black and orange straps. A mask covered his face, with ragged holes cut out for eyes, and cartoonish explosions decorated his hair, black and orange crayon that colored cardboard. Strapped to his arms were old shoe boxes, painted a dark green with wobbly black lines crisscrossing them—the grenade gauntlets they had designed as children, Izuku realized.

In fact, everything this Kaachan was wearing was based on his hero costume that he had designed when they were just little kids.

Burning yellow eyes glared at them—no, him. As usual, Kaachan focused his wrath on him first. "Deku."

Izuku flinched at the growl. Kaachan had mostly been ignoring him since the Slime Villain incident with rare exceptions. Somehow, he had gotten used to being ignored. Despite the frantic babbling that threatened to overflow, Izuku bit his tongue. His muttering would only make the situation worse.

"Are you fucking ignoring me, Deku!?" Or maybe doing anything would make it worse. Maybe Izuku was just born to do wrong. Not-Kaachan sneered, twisting his little child face. "Are you looking down on me?"

Techniqually, everyone is looking down on you, Izuku thought hysterically.

Someone laughed, and it was only because he was still alive did Izuku realize that he didn't speak aloud. Sakamato was laughing his ass off, holding his stomach. "Dude, this is how he sees himself? As a freakin' brat? Dude, what kinda weak ass Shadow is this?"

"Shut up, Skull!" Takamaki hissed at him, but the damage was done; Kaachan had already set his sights on the Phantom Thieves.

"What, do you think that just because you brought help that I would lose to you, Deku!? They'll end up pebbles under my shoe!" Kaachan jumped off the jungle gym and onto the gravel, rousing a round of screaming. "Just like you!"

Nijima looked faint. "Don't tell me… are those…?"

"His cognitions." Akira glared at Kaachan. "He sees everyone as just a stepping stone to his future."

The pebbles below were staring up at Izuku. Cognitions…? Was… was Izuku's face under foot somewhere, screaming in pain? Was that really how Kaachan saw him, saw everyone? No, it must be a trick; even if Kaachan considered him less than nothing, their classmates—

Kaachan ground his foot into the gravel, just to make the point clear. "Don't you fucking get it, Deku? Weaklings like you deserve this! There is nothing on this planet better than me, and all the proof I need is right here!" He snarled, letting off another explosion. "This is where you all belong, and I'm going to put you in your place!" He lunged for Izuku, explosion lighting in his hand.

Akira pushed him out of the way, shooting—shooting!?—his gun at Kaachan, only for the child Shadow to dodge effortlessly and redirect his attack onto Kitagawa. "Panther, Skull, flank him! Mona, heal Fox; Queen, full throttle!" Akira belted out orders like he was born for it. "Izuku, run!"

"But what about you!?" Izuku yelled back, as if he could actually do anything.

Akira winced as Mona, the cat, was sent flying from a stray explosion and slammed into the playground-school, breaking off a piece. "We'll be fine, just worry about yourself!"

He couldn't; Kaachan was aiming to kill, desperately trying to get past the Phantom Thieves… to get to Izuku. To hurt Izuku. And he… couldn't do anything. He was useless. His quirk couldn't help in this situation, the Phantom… no, his friends were risking their lives to protect him, and he couldn't even gather up the strength to run!

His childhood best friend was trying to murder him, for what? Why?

What…

What had Izuku done to deserve this?

Kaachan was too fast, too strong. His friends wouldn't be able to hold him off for long. Not even their powers—and what were those, those people that appeared whenever they took off their masks, what even?—could land a solid hit on Kaachan. It was like he resisted everything.

They were going to die.

"This is all my fault."

Izuku hadn't even realized he spoke aloud until Kaachan cackled. "Was that even a question?" he mocked. "Of course this is your fault. These losers wouldn't even be here if they didn't know you. Did you even tell them how worthless you are, or did you lie to them the entire time?"

He… he was… righ—

"Shut the FUCK UP!" Izuku flinched as Sakamoto screamed at Kaachan. "You talk about being big game because your big-shot quirk gives you the option of being a hero, but who gives a shit? Midoriya is ten-times the better hero than you, not because of his quirk, but because he actually cares about people! SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT MY FRIEND!"

"You…" Kaachan's shadow bubbled, as if something was trying to break free from the child-shaped form. "You piece of shit! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"NO, KAACHAN!"

"SHUT UP AND DIE!"

Izuku could only watch in horror as Kaachan pulled the pin on his grenade gauntlets, pointed straight at Sakamoto.

His feet moved on his own.

Izuku intercepted the burning flash-fire, taking the full force of the explosion. Familiar pain erupted across his arms, chest, and face, skin cracking open and blistering in the heat of it. Someone was screaming. Gritting his teeth, Izuku pushed through the pain—he wasn't sure how, perhaps it was one of the properties of this not-reality—and yelled, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"

Smoke cleared enough for Izuku to see Kaachan's shocked face before it twisted into a smirk. "Deku…"

"SHUT UP, KAACHAN! DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST TRY TO KILL HIM!?" He was shaking; from pain or rage, he wasn't sure which. Still, he stood resolute in between Kaachan and the battered Sakamoto.

"The bastard should have fucked off when he had the chance." Kaachan bared his teeth. "I'm going to be the number one hero. People who don't understand that… they're just villains. And villains deserve to die."

Bile rose in his throat. What had he done? When Izuku had complimented Kaachan's quirk, when everyone had told Kaachan he'd be a hero one day… had this been what they'd built? An ego maniac that thought he could kill someone because of quirkism and a future hero license? For Kaachan's inner self to say so… The words slipped out, "You're a villain."

Kaachan's smirk dropped like a bomb. "What?"

Izuku's fists clenched. "You're a villain," he snarled, brow furrowed under the strength of his glare. Kaachan—no, Katsuki tried to kill his friend. He wouldn't let that stand. "I can't believe I spent so long defending you! I told myself for years that you'd change, that you'd become a good hero, but… all I've done is help turn you into this."

The Shadow scoffed. "You think you're some kind of tough guy, Deku? What's something as worthless as you going to do.

No one ever bothered to stop Katsuki… No longer. If no one else would do it, if the adults in both their lives allowed for such a failure, then it was up to Izuku. His resolve hardened.

"I'm going to stop you."

"It's about time."

A blinding pain erupted in Izuku's skull, like a red-hot poker pushing into his frontal lobe. Izuku clutched his head in agony.

The voice continued, soothing and calm. "Now you finally understand the truth. A child molded into a villain, a society that looks away in favor of a flashy quirk. Your friend he may be, but can you forgive all those he's trod upon throughout his journey to gain power?"

"N-No…" Blood dripped out of his mouth; Izuku had bitten clean through his cheek. "I can't forgive him… for the people he's hurt…!"

"Then rise up, Izuku Midoriya!" Something appeared on his face and Izuku instinctively clawed at it, fabric bending under his fingers. "I am thou, thou art I! No more can anyone stop you from realizing your goal; reach out your hand and grasp it!" Izuku ripped the black cloth mask off his face.

And erupted into a pillar of fire.

A large-round bullet shot out of the fire pillar, hitting Bakugou in the chest, knocking him away from the Phantom Thieves. The group could only watch in awe as Izuku stepped out of the fire, his appearance changed. Instead of his middle school uniform, he was dressed in all black, with a dark green duster wiping around him in the wind created from his transformation. An orange scarf wrapped around his throat, and it matched his gloves and the hat band on his black cowboy hat.

But what really drew their attention was the figure floating above him.

Glowing with power, the tall Persona reached out, as if offering help. His straight white hair billowed around him—in fact, his entire body was white, a simple white kimono that made the colors stand out, but it glitched, like there was too much power to be contained. His eyes burned a toxic green and, across his face, a blood handprint was branded into his skin.

They recognized him. Of course they did; every child in Japan was taught about the founding heroes, even if they didn't realize that this particular one was a vigilante first.

Izuku panted, his face twisted with frustration and exertion. "No more." His voice was absolute. "I won't let you hurt anyone anymore, Bakugou!" The shadow flinched at the sound of his surname. "This is my promise; villains won't go unpunished.

"Right, Seigiichi!?"