Izuku had tried to sleep, but his mind raced too much. He couldn't tell if it was just his anxiety or the memories of All For One melding with his. Izuku also tried to go for his morning run, but Aizawa had been up and waiting for him in the kitchen. Instead, he walked Izuku back to the dorms with the warning that he'd be around throughout the day because he had staff meetings and to call if he needed anything.
Izuku muttered an agreement and let out a heavy sigh once he was gone. The dorms were still quiet, but Bakugo would be up soon to start breakfast. Izuku sunk into the couch cushions and stared at the TV, his dark, warped reflection peering back.
It was early, the glow of dawn creeping through the windows. Izuku thought about going to his room, but the chances of Bakugo playing the guitar were pretty high and everyone would be starting to wake up. He just wanted to enjoy the silence for a while longer. Plus, being around his friends would be better than stewing alone in his room.
He didn't want the past to repeat itself. He wasn't alone anymore. That's what Bakugo had said a few weeks ago and he said he'd be waiting, but Izuku wondered if he really meant it.
Izuku pulled his knees up and curled into the corner of the couch.
After everything that had happened, how Izuku had pushed him away on more than one occasion, Izuku wouldn't blame him for going back on his word.
All that progress. . .
Maybe they were better off as strangers.
Just the thought had Izuku's eyes flooded with unsheathe tears. He dropped his head on the arm of the couch and felt the teardrops slide over his nose and down his temple.
He didn't even have the energy to be upset about not learning any useful information about Dabi. Maybe the police got something useful out of the ordeal, but Izuku couldn't even remember half the questions they'd asked, especially towards the end.
"Deku?"
Izuku sat up and discreetly tried to wipe away the tears. "Y-Yeah?" he stammered, catching Bakugo's reflection on the TV screen as he walked around the couch.
He settled down next to Izuku but avoided looking at him. "How'd it go?"
Izuku glanced at him, finding tired eyes and hunched shoulders. He didn't look like he'd slept at all. "I think it went ok," Izuku said, shifting to sit up straight. "Aizawa said we got some useful
information about Nomu's."
Bakugo was quiet for a moment before he asked, "What about you?"
Izuku thought about yesterday and the train ride home, how he wasn't able to sleep, and kept catching himself slipping. But he was managing. For the moment. In middle school, it'd been a slow but steady descent into the jumble memories and the actions that followed.
This time was playing out just the same.
Breaking the connection was always the hardest and then he'd get back to himself and feel like everything was ok, but then the memories of the other person would trickle back in until suddenly it was a flood.
Izuku knew he was in that ok period, the calm before the storm.
He hadn't tried to change All For One or manipulate his thoughts too deeply, so maybe it wouldn't be too bad.
It felt like wishful thinking.
"Well," Izuku started, "I'm not really sure." He felt too tired to explain it to him. He'd tried to explain it to Hatsume and Aizawa at one point, but neither seemed to grasp what the blended memories did to him.
Izuku looked over at Bakugo curiously, wondering if he told Mirko. Surely, she had to know given that she was working with the police on the case.
"What if it's like last time?" Bakugo asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back into the cushions.
"You mean middle school?" Izuku thought about it as Bakugo nodded. "It's different every time," he muttered, knowing he went too deep and fearing that it would be bad. "Aizawa said he'll be coming by to check on me."
Bakugo's brow pinched. "So, you don't know?"
"It's. . .hard to explain," Izuku huffed, feeling the dull throb of a growing headache.
Bakugo let out a frustrated breath before he stood and motioned Izuku to follow. "Don't think you're getting out of chopping vegetables, nerd." There was usually a bite to his voice, but the words came out on a dejected sigh.
Izuku chopped slowly, taking his time and enjoying the repetitiveness. He greeted his awaking classmates with a tight smile. They'd yawn and either make themselves tea or pour a cup of coffee. Their quiet chatter drifted over from the lounge area filling the air with a warmth Izuku had missed.
"You got that rice washed yet?"
Izuku blinked down at his hands submerged in cloudy water and swallowed hard. "Almost," he muttered, brushing off the lost time and flipped the faucet on.
"How was the trip home?" Mina asked, sliding into a chair at the bar.
Izuku dumped the water from the bowl of rice and handed it off to Bakugo. "It was fine. I'm glad I
got back early enough for breakfast."
Mina grinned, relaxing against the edge of the counter. "We really missed you last night," she said, glancing off to the side as Kirishima shuffled out of the elevator. "Maybe we can watch that movie we were talking about later."
"That should be fine," Izuku said as he took out eggs from the fridge. "I don't have any training today, but I still need to finish my homework." He soured as he remembered Friday afternoon and the fight with Bakugo.
Mina stiffened as Bakugo abruptly turned away with the excuse of needing something from the pantry.
Izuku watched the way her eyes trailed after him and wondered if she'd heard their fight. They had been loud, nearly screaming at each other at one point. He glanced over at the lounge where everyone was still talking and laughing together. No one had looked at them weirdly or mentioned anything, but Bakugo could've told Mina and the others privately.
Kiri sat beside Mina and muttered a "Good morning" through a yawn. He stared down at the cup of coffee Izuku slid him blankly before he registered it and started sipping lazily with a grunt of thanks.
They didn't look like they'd gotten much sleep either. Izuku had never known Kiri to not be chipper in the mornings. Mina could be a wild card, but the dark marks under her eyes were unusual.
Izuku looked at Bakugo from the corner of his eye wondering if he told them the truth about why he was going home. Or maybe they heard on their own. But Mina and Kiri just talked between themselves, interrupted by yawns. At some point, Mina folded her arms on the counter and rested her head, carrying on the conversation with closed eyes.
Izuku turned back to Bakugo as his name was called only to find a trash bag being held out to him. He took it with a frown because they usually took the trash out after breakfast. A chill ran across his skin when he saw Iida and Uraraka washing the dishes and putting them away, the plates suspended in the air as she finished rinsing and Iida pulled them down to dry.
"Deku," Bakugo said, eyes narrowed in suspicion at Izuku.
Izuku tightened his grip on the trash bag and turned on his heel. Some fresh air sounded nice. He hurried out the back door to the dumpster and tossed the bag in.
The sun was warm and bright and, for a moment, Izuku felt ok.
For a moment, yesterday never happened.
He sat on the steps, letting the breeze tug at his curls, knowing he should go inside. Someone would probably come looking for him soon, but he couldn't find the will to care. Izuku stood, something in the back of his mind itching with the sense that something was wrong, but he shrugged it off.
Izuku took a step, his breath catching as he found himself at the front gate.
There was someone he wanted to find, so Izuku swiped his ID and watched absently as the gate opened.
He stopped just outside, the sense that he was forgetting something sitting on the tip of his tongue. The dorms gave no hints but a flicker of recognition. As the gates closed, Izuku stared up at the gilded letters, squinting as the light glinted off the metal.
Frustrated, Izuku raised a hand to shield his eyes to get a better look but found the sun instead.
It had. . .It had been low just a few moments ago. Early morning. Now it looked closer to noon.
Izuku twisted around as he realized the school was gone, replaced by buildings and signs he didn't recognize. Dred swirled in the pit of his stomach, breath growing thin as people and colors blended together. Izuku paused when he saw his reflection in the glass of a restaurant window, and he drew in a shaky, terrified breath.
"No," he hissed to himself, panic stinging across his skin as he patted his pockets and only found his school ID. "Oh no."
He blinked back tears as he looked down at the card. Izuku stepped back from his reflection and shoved the ID away as he looked at his surroundings again. Nothing about the buildings or street names looked familiar. As each turn only led to more confusion and hopelessness, Izuku forced himself to stop and breathe for a minute.
Nothing was familiar, yes, but he was sure he was still in Musutafu, so if he kept walking east, he'd eventually find himself in an area he knew.
With the new plan, Izuku sucked in a deep breath and started walking. He stumbled each time he blinked as the buildings ahead of him were suddenly gone, behind him or he was in a different area completely. Izuku skidded to a stop as he realized he'd turned around to go back the way he came.
UA.
He needed to get back to UA.
Izuku started running in hopes to beat out the slipping, keeping his eyes open as long as he could. He wasn't supposed to be alone anymore.
The world blurred as tears flooded his eyes, feet pounding against the concrete in a near sprint.
I have to get home.
Home. . .
Where is that? I. . .I've never had a home.
Izuku slowed to a stop, breathing hard as he looked at the people passing him. He frowned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he tried to figure out where he was headed. Feeling hard plastic, Izuku pulled out his school ID and frowned harder, scratching his head in confusion when he saw 3-A listed as his class.
"Is this a joke?" he scoffed, wondering which of his classmates would put the effort into such a prank. "Hatsume's is probably close by," he muttered, looking at his surroundings for anything to orientate himself, figuring he just got turned around while he was walking.
But he couldn't see much from the ground and turned into an alley hoping to find a fire escape or ladder to get to a roof. He grinned when he saw one and grabbed the rung. The cold metal shocked
his skin and Izuku frowned at the feeling he was forgetting something. It was a horribly familiar feeling.
He let go, as he whispered in fear, "Is it happening again?"
Izuku stumbled back from the ladder and looked around the dark alley with new suspicion. He pulled out the ID card again, scowling at his picture. His hair was different. It looked shorter on the sides. He reached up to confirm, stomach dropping as he felt warped skin on the curve of his ear. The year was wrong, too.
Everything was wrong.
"I just need to get myself orientated," he said to himself and grabbed the rung of the ladder again and pushed the gate open. "I need to find that boy—"
Izuku stared up at the house, hands still clutching the handle to the gate.
He stepped back, feeling unease crawl under his skin. It was just as he remembered. Well kept and tidy. So many of his days were spent doing housework. Repainting the deck, mowing the grass, planting new flowers in the spring. From the outside, the group home almost looked welcoming. Izuku still remembered that inkling of hope he'd had the first day he was brought there.
The social worker said it was a place for kids like him. At the time he'd missed the animosity in their voice, too focused on controlling his quirk. He swore he would make sure it was different that time. It wasn't until the worker left and the door shut that reality set in.
The government has entrusted me with raising you into a proper citizen. You're here because you've been deemed difficult. . .or dangerous. Let me make one thing clear, I won't raise a villain.
Izuku remembered clutching his small bag with a spare set of clothes tight in his hands as the rules of the house were read off. His hopes and resolve sputtering out. The older kids were quiet, the few who talked to him warned him to be out of sight as much as possible.
Some of the others took their anger out of him. Stole his bedding, stole his food, even stole some of his clothes. They'd beat him if he tried to fight back. So, he learned to be quiet and stay hidden and finish eating his food before anyone thought to steal it from him and to sleep with his back to the wall and to do a lot of things that. . .weren't. . .normal.
He's just a kid, leave 'em alone!
He wouldn't be here if he wasn't like the rest of us. What'd you do, huh? Did you kill someone, too? I bet you did.
Izuku took another step away from the gate, trying to figure out why he'd come back. He'd promised he never would and yet here he was, staring up at the white facade of a pleasant group home for troubled boys.
It stuck out like a store thumb against the other run-down and aging houses on the block. The house looked the exact same as he remembered it. Nothing had changed.
He took a step, planning to turn his back and never come again, but he paused and looked at the dark windows. There were kids in there going through the same horrors that he'd faced for years. He'd never wanted to set fire to something so bad. Just the thought of the house engulfed in flames
made him smile.
"Why did I even come here?" he murmured, scowling at the neighborhood with suspicion. "I have. . .classes." Izuku scratched his head as he tried to remember what day it was. "Don't I?"
He patted his pockets but found no phone. "I must've left it at my dorm," he grumbled and started walking.
Hatsume lived on the other side of town and without his wallet, he couldn't take a bus, which meant there was a long walk ahead of him. But Hatsume wouldn't be at her house, he realized, and UA was even further.
Izuku groaned, frustrated that he was back where he grew up without knowing how he got there. "Could it be?" Izuku felt his stomach drop. "I wouldn't do that again, but. . ."
He looked back at the group home and the metal fence surrounded the manicured lawn with a shiver.
"I wouldn't. . .would I?"
Izuku suddenly wasn't sure because he couldn't remember waking up that morning or leaving campus or crossing town. He started walking faster, trying not to panic as he wound through familiar streets. One after another, taking all the shortcuts he knew.
Every time he slowed at the sight of something familiar, his heart raced, and he ran faster. UA was so far, but if he could just get back to school.
Young people. Always in a hurry.
Izuku gritted his teeth, a new panic spurring as he realized he didn't have anything to drown out the noise. "Damn it," he cursed. "What the hell did I do?" Izuku slipped into a quiet alley and rested against a brick wall. "More importantly, why? Why would I do this again?"
He thumped his fist against his forehead, trying to jar a memory, but noticed something strange about his hand instead. With a flash of horror, Izuku pulled back the sleeve of his hoodie, gasping at the warped and scared skin.
"What the hell?"
He pulled back the other sleeve, finding more of the same scares. His ID fell to the concrete as he fumbled for it. As Izuku bent to pick it up with trembling hands, the information on the plastic card glared back.
"Crazy, isn't it?"
Izuku jumped at the voice, breath catching in his throat as saw a man with dark hair and horribly scarred skin. "Who are you?"
He quirked a brow and stepped closer. "You don't remember?"
"No," Izuku said carefully, backing further away with each step the man took towards him. "I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."
"You're slipping," he taunted, flames flickering around his fingertips.
Izuku stared at the flames, feeling his mouth go inexplicably dry. "How do you—" Izuku shook his head. There was no way the stranger could know about his quirk. "Who are you?"
"You know you I am." He smirked, the flames growing. "Deku."
"Deku. . ." Izuku breathed his confusion growing as he hadn't heard that nickname in years. "Are you. . .friends with Bakugo?"
The man laughed, edging closer. "Bakugo?" He shook his head. "No, I don't know you're precious Kacchan."
Izuku felt himself shutter. There was something familiar about those flames, but he couldn't quite pinpoint why. "Who are you then?"
"How about a refresher, huh?"
Izuku stumbled back as flames erupted around him and flooded the alley, driving out the shadows. "Stop it," Izuku wheezed, struggling to breathe through the scorching, thin air. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you are!"
The man grabbed him by the throat and yanked him close. "You will," he warned. Izuku whimpered as his hand heated.
"I told you I wouldn't let you forget."
"Dabi!" Izuku gasped, the name popping into his head. "You're—"
He was gone. There was no fire. No heat. No hand around his throat. Like he'd never been there at all.
Izuku pressed back against the brick wall, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. His scars caught the afternoon light and he wondered. . .if that man had something to do with them. But Izuku couldn't tell if that was a memory or something else his mind had made up. Maybe it was a blend.
He took a moment to look at his school ID and the story it told.
Hero Course? That was ridiculous. Two years past the date he thought it was. His hair was shorter. He looked. . .older and most confusing of all, he was smiling, wide and honest.
"Time travel?" He shook his head. That sounded ridiculous. Maybe, he considered as he got up, it was a different reality. "No, I don't think that's possible. . .is it? No! Not the time."
Izuku peeked out of the alley. The street was relatively empty except for some teenagers walking on the opposite side of the street. Izuku looked back at the shadowed alley once more, feeling a chill as he remembered the man and the fire before he started walking again.
I just need to get home. . .
Home?
Izuku slowed to a stop at the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. Maybe someone. He thought it might've been Hatsume but that didn't feel right. It was someone else. Someone. . .important.
Home. . . He had a home.
Though he didn't understand how Izuku knew that was true. Even with the lost details, he remembered someone clinging to him, asking him to stay, and the warm embrace of another.
Izuku looked up at the sky, for a split second he saw a sea of stars, and a jolt shot through him. He felt like there were a couple someone's he was forgetting.
A girl skipping down the street caught his attention. Izuku watched curiously as she greeted a young boy and his mother. She extended her hand, a flower blooming from her palm. She plucked the flower off and gave it to the boy before walking off.
Izuku trailed after her, his steps reluctant. It wasn't a useful quirk, but it'd been so long. . .so long since he'd taken a quirk. Izuku felt a thrill rush under his skin and his steps picked up, a deep hunger driving him.
Hunger. Daishi's was nearby.
Izuku hung a left, hoping he could get there before the afternoon rush. A bowl of ramen sounded wonderful, and he couldn't remember if he'd told Daishi that he'd gotten into UA. He wanted to tell Morina, but she'd already left for university. Daishi would tell her. She'd helped him study so much for the entrance exam. Maybe he could work a few jobs and get some money to send her a thank you gift.
The street he'd pretty much grown up on looked off. There was just something not right, but Izuku couldn't put his finger on it. It smelled the same and he recognized the people, but it was like they were older.
Izuku came to a sudden halt as he passed a window and did a double-take at his reflection. He became increasingly aware of how wrong he felt. His height. His body that was bigger than it had ever been before. His clothes that he'd never seen before. Even in the transparent reflection, Izuku could tell that he was older.
"Shit," he hissed, turning on his heel and sprinting back in the direction he came. "I did it again. That's the only explanation."
Izuku pushed himself to keep up the pace. The only thing he knew for sure was that he needed to get back to UA. He'd be safe there. Somehow. With someone. Someone he desperately wanted to apologize to.
"Almost four years?" Izuku said to himself, focusing on getting back to UA and not panicking. "I didn't slip that far last time. Maybe it's because I'm older."
"Hey there, wait."
Izuku stopped as a Hero dropped down in front of him with their hands outstretched. The Hero pushed up the visor to their helmet. "Are you Izuku Midoriya?"
Izuku Midoriya?
"I think you've got the wrong person," he said, stepping away from the Hero.
Their smile faltered slightly. "So, you're not a student at UA?"
UA?
He glanced around the street, trying to figure out what was so confusing about the situation. "I don't know who you're looking for, but I don't know an Izuku Midoriya."
The Hero's gaze flickered between something on his arm and him. "I think you should come with me," he said, taking a step forward.
"I'm not who you're looking for. My name is. . . My name. . ." What is my name?
"It's ok. I'm here to help."
He took a step back. Then a second. Panic surging through him as the Hero made another advance. Jail, he thought as he turned to run, he's going to take me back to jail.
"Wait!" The Hero chased after him. "Eraser Head sent me! You need to go back to UA now!"
UA? Eraser Head?
It all made no sense and even worse he couldn't summon any of his power. He was. . .helpless. No name. No quirk. No idea what had happened or why a Hero was chasing him relentlessly.
"You're drowning," a voice drawled. "Izuku, you're far from home." "Dabi," Izuku spat, hands balling up at his sides. "You're not real."
He cast a curious glance to the muffled shouts of someone coming closer. "And you can't remember why you're running."
Izuku took off in a sprint as Dabi's hands ignited with flames. He took random turns as he tried to figure out where he was running to and why someone was chasing him.
A net?
He jumped, the capture weapon flying through the air he once stood. Izuku rolled out of the fall, he didn't wait around to find out who threw it, but they cursed.
"How did I do that?" he gasped, skidding around a corner.
There was a busy street up ahead, Izuku hoped he could lose whoever was chasing him in the crowd. He pulled up his hood and wove through people at a steady pace. There was someone asking people if they'd seen a boy with green hair. Izuku ducked into a side street.
He was about to start running when he saw tall buildings in the distance, the windows gleaming in the late afternoon light.
"Kacchan," Izuku breathed, some of his memories coming back to him. "Aizawa."
He took off in a sprint, wincing when he tried muscles protested. The sun was beginning to sit low in the sky.
"I'm. . .slipping." Izuku rubbed at his eyes as they blurred. "I lied to you, I'm sorry."
UA was so far. Izuku knew that no matter how fast he ran he wouldn't be able to outrun the way his mind was tangling. He ran into someone as the world shifted, but he could still see UA, so he muttered an "I'm so sorry" and started running again.
Izuku stumbled again, barely dodging a food cart. He turned in place, scanning the horizon for UA. The street looked vaguely familiar.
"Breakfast," he muttered as he looked up at the sun and headed north. "I left at breakfast."
Izuku slowed his run as he realized he hadn't eaten anything since then either. But he didn't have any money. That would be a problem. Daishi's would be open, but the restaurant was on the other side of town. Izuku scratched his head, trying to ignore the way his stomach growled.
"I shouldn't eat, Kacchan will have. . ." Izuku's sentence trailed off as he registered his words. "Kacchan? I haven't talked to him in years, why would he have dinner ready soon?" He scratched his head for a second time. He shoved his hands into his pockets, only finding the school ID, and felt panic settle in the pit of his stomach. "I'm forgetting again," he whispered, a chill running down his spine. "UA. I need to get back to UA."
Izuku took three steps and stopped. "How do I get to UA?" He huffed in frustration as the building gave no clues to his location in the city. "What do I do when I get there? Why would I do this again?" A defeated sigh rushed out of him as he hurried down the street. "If only my quirks worked, then I could send some type of signal for my friends."
Izuku frowned and pulled out his ID again. "I have friends?" It sounded absurd, but he knew it was true. Pink hair. Pizza. Zuzu. Someone called him Zuzu.
Zuzu. . .
Izuku pulled down the sleeve on his left arm and stared at the green and pink threads tied around
his wrist. "Eri!"
She was waiting for him. All the movies they still needed to watch. The promise he made.
So many promises he'd made.
Izuku leaned forward on his knees, struggling to catch his breath as a sense of hopelessness filled him. He'd fallen back on lying and distancing himself from the people he cared about.
"Being alone is easy," Dabi said, coming into Izuku's line of vision. "But it sure does hurt."
Izuku glared up at him. "Do you have to do this right now?" He tried not to be too annoyed considering he could actually remember who Dabi was this time.
"And not enjoy the mess you've gotten yourself into?" He grinned, falling into step beside Izuku. "I'm afraid this is something I couldn't miss."
"It is a mess," Izuku sighed.
The streets were becoming more familiar, so he hoped he'd see UA again soon.
"I am curious. How are you going to fix it?" Dabi raised a brow when Izuku didn't answer. "You think they'll forgive you after lying straight to their face? What about Kacchan? All that time spent mending your relationship just for you to shove him away?"
Izuku sunk into his shoulders as he struggled to ignore Dabi. "I—We'll talk about it. I'll apologize."
Dabi gave a slow grin, tipping high to one side. "You think that'll be enough?"
"I don't know," Izuku said as he felt doubt trickle in. "He said he'd be there when I got back." Dabi shrugged. "You should know that people say things they don't mean all the time."
"Kacchan wouldn't lie to me," Izuku defended, finding an inkling of resolve to hold onto. "He wouldn't!"
Dabi held his hand out to Izuku, his fingertips flaking away as ash. "You don't even know what year it is," he laughed. "Yet you actually think he cares about you? Doesn't he hate you?"
"Yes. I think so." Izuku shook his head, knowing he had to be imagining the ash. "We haven't talked in a long time, but he wouldn't go out of his way to lie to me."
"Then why would he be waiting for you at all? You're not even friends."
"We're not," Izuku breathed at the realization. "But Hatsume is. We said we'd do our homework together tonight."
Dabi rolled his eyes. "Don't you think she gets tired of your constant freaking out? You can't even control your quirk. How many panic attacks has she talked you down from? This week. Give me a number."
Izuku felt a flush of embarrassment. "N-Not that many."
"You really thought UA would be some magical start." He scoffed at Izuku. "Like what? You'd walk through those doors and suddenly the past wouldn't matter? Are you an idiot?"
"Maybe." Izuku blinked back tears. "I just wanted to hope."
"Hope? Hope is for children."
"Who are you to tell me who hope is for?" Izuku shot back. "I'm a hero now. I give people hope!"
Dabi's face began to flake away. "Who gives it to you?" He grinned at the way Izuku's shoulders sank. "What happens when you have nothing left to give? Isn't that what's happening right now?"
"Right now?" Izuku echoed, not sure what he meant.
"You're drowning," Dabi warned before he completely crumbled away.
Izuku knelt on the ground and reached towards the pile of ash. He stared at his hand threaded through grass, mind drawing a blank. He'd been headed somewhere but now he sat against a tree in a park.
It was getting dark; he couldn't even see the sun anymore.
Izuku stood and stretched, feeling like he'd just woken up. The park felt familiar, but it was empty. He scuffed his shoe in the woodchips as he tried to remember what he was doing there.
A slow turn didn't reveal much. Tress and bushes, a jungle gym and slides, a couple benches for parents. But there were some nearby buildings that seemed to jog a memory. Izuku headed towards them, hoping that his brain would wake up soon.
You're drowning.
Izuku's steps faltered as he looked at the building's windows reflecting the orange of sunset.
"I'm drowning," he muttered.
The world around him slowed as he began to run, eyes locked on the building, its name on the tip of his tongue.
I'm forgetting again.
"My name is Izuku Midoriya," he said, turning down a street. "I'm a third-year at UA high school. I'm in the Support—no, Hero Course. I'm a third-year in the Hero Course."
Izuku looked up and down the long fence that separated school grounds from the sidewalk. "I made a mistake. Well, a lot of mistakes actually. I hurt a lot of people, too."
He saw the gate and pushed himself to run faster. Before he forgot again.
"I made promises that I didn't mean, and I lied." Izuku blinked back tears. "I lied so much. I thought forcing people away would be easier than them choosing to leave or being taken." He swiped his school ID and scanned his hand, waiting with aching breath as the gate opened. "I'm going to fix that."
Izuku felt tears slip down his cheeks as he stepped onto campus, a sense of safety returning. He felt his frustration begin to rise again as he looked at the buildings and tried to remember the way back to the dorms.
"My name is Izuku Midoriya. I'm in class 3-A." Izuku took a left just hoping that it was in the right direction. "A lot of people thought I could be a hero." He choked on the last word. "I tried to tell them."
"Hey, are you Midoriya?" a girl asked. She stopped on the sidewalk in front of him. "There are a lot of people looking for you. Are you ok?"
Izuku stepped away from her.
She pointed to the cluster of buildings behind her. "The dorms are just ahead. You should go tell them you're ok."
Izuku muttered a thanks and passed her with a wide breadth. He felt torn between running in the other direction and going back to the dorms. For some reason, he really wanted to go there, but those people would probably try to take him back to prison.
He looked at his hands and tried to summon power again, but nothing came. Still a body with no power and no capability to take it.
There was a cluster of people gathered in the courtyard between the buildings, so Izuku crossed the grass to find another entrance.
He heard a chorus of shouts from the group.
"Izuku!" someone called, their voice high and frantic. "Izuku, can you hear me?"
Feeling a surge of panic, Izuku threw out a block, directing their thoughts away as they turned the corner of the building.
"Where is he?" she cried, her steps faltering.
A boy came up beside her. "Don't worry, Mina, we'll find him. He's on campus now. It's only a matter of time."
Izuku watched them walk away, realizing he did have some sort of power. He turned his attention to the building beside him with a scowl.
"No, we should've kept a closer eye on him. Fuck! I knew something was wrong!" "Mina, come on. Let's rejoin the group."
Izuku felt something twist in his chest that sent his heart into a stammer. He brushed the feeling off and hurried over to the side door. There was no one inside which he thought was odd. Usually, some of his class was at least in the lounge area watching TV. Dinner wasn't being made either. Izuku trailed his fingers over the cool countertops, feeling an emptiness settle into him.
He was back where he wanted to be. But it was no different than outside. It was still too big and too empty. There was no one waiting for him.
It was like they'd vanished.
Maybe it had all been a dream and soon he'd wake up in his bedroom down the hall from Hatsume and they'd watch a movie and eat perfectly popped popcorn thanks to one of her babies. Just like they used to.
Izuku pressed the button for the fourth floor. He watched absently as the floor numbers increased. "Feeling lost?"
Izuku glanced over the man, frowning when it took a moment to recognize him. "Haven't you done enough today?"
He stepped out first when the doors opened. "You seem to think not." Dabi looked back at Izuku. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you had friends waiting for you?"
Izuku frowned because he wasn't able to recall any friends. "I don't know," he admitted, staring down at the floor between his feet. "I wanted to come back here, but I can't remember why."
"Maybe it was something?" Dabi gave a thoughtful look. "Or someone?"
"Maybe," Izuku considered, feeling like the hallway was becoming tight and suffocating. "I need some air. I need to think."
Izuku pushed open the door to the roof and breathed in the cool air. Even in the fading light, he could still see scorch marks on the concrete. It made him smile for some reason.
But it wavered.
"I'm forgetting," he whispered as something in his chest tightened. "I don't want to forget."
Izuku felt tears slide down his cheeks as he stared at the sunset.
"My name. . ." Izuku said, letting the door close behind him, "is Izuku Midoriya. I have a brother." He frowned. "No, I don't have a brother. Or do I?"
He felt a wave of anger. "I do, and I hate him. I. . .I killed him."
Izuku stumbled back as he remembered a knife covered in blood. "It was all my fault. I killed him. I couldn't control it." He slid down against the door, cradling his head in his hands. "I killed someone. I can't be a hero. What was I thinking?"
He looked up, swallowing hard through his tight throat. "My name. . ." A laugh bubbled out of him, empty and hopeless. "I don't remember my name." He got to his feet and shuffled forward, eyes catching on the faded scorch marks. There was something familiar about them, but the knowledge was stuck somewhere he couldn't reach. "I'm drowning," he realized, fear surging through him. "I'm drowning."
He opened his mouth to call for someone, but no name came, and more tears blurred his vision. "It's happening again." He looked around at the city that stretched off in every direction. "Where even am I?"
There were people shouting, something about their voices familiar. He moved closer to the ledge to hear them better. He recognized the name they were calling.
"Izuku!" he gasped. "My name is Izuku!"
His moment of joy died out as he looked at his surroundings again. "There was someone I promised to tell." Izuku stared down at his feet, a frown forming. "I don't think I did. I think there were a lot of things I did wrong."
He wondered if that was why he was alone. His heart hammered in his chest, hands pulling into fists at his sides.
"Why is—It wasn't supposed to be this way," Izuku muttered, knowing deep down that everything was wrong. "I messed everything up."
Izuku stifled the sob that ripped out of him with a trembling hand. "Why do I always mess everything up?"
"Aw, don't cry."
Izuku looked up at the man before him, something familiar about him. "But you don't understand!" Izuku said to him, squeezing his eyes shut in a poor attempt to stop the tears. "I ruined everything, but I can't even remember what it was!"
The man's scars on his face pulled oddly as he smiled. "You gave it your best shot, but you were never cut out to be a hero." He gave Izuku a look of pity. "You knew that deep down, though."
"I was a hero?" Izuku asked weakly, squinting as the man before him faded in and out of view.
"You tried and failed," he said, almost laughing, and looked over his shoulder. "Why don't you jump? It was a good idea. Would've saved you all this pain."
All this pain?
Izuku felt his feet moving before he fully registered what the man said. He stopped at the ledge and looked over the side of the building, unease settling like a rock in his stomach. "Will it hurt?"
"Couldn't be worse than this," he said, stepping up beside Izuku. "Besides, it's not like you have anything to remember."
"My name. . ." He frowned, fresh tears flooding his eyes. "Someone called me Zuzu, I think."
The man stepped back from him. "They must've cared if they gave you a nickname, but you've forgotten them. You've forgotten everything." He made a show of looking around the roof. "And they've forgotten you, Izuku."
Izuku felt the last threads of hope die out with a sputter. "You killed your father. You ripped his mind apart!" Izuku flinched back a step.
"You've forgotten what you did to me!"
Izuku shut his eyes, so he didn't have to look at the man. "You lied and lied to people you claimed to care about!"
"Stop," Izuku whimpered, taking another step back, arms flailing as he bumped into something and lost his balance.
"You think they'll care? You can't even remember their names!"
"I tried!" Izuku cried, wrapping his arms around himself. "I tried so hard!"
"Did you? Are you sure?"
A breath caught in his throat, and he looked over the side again. "I should've tried harder," he muttered.
"You promised him 100%. You gave it! Congratulations, Izuku, look where it got you! You're best still wasn't enough! So just do everyone a favor and start over."
Izuku watched in horror as the man fell to a pile of ash, blown away by the breeze.
They said I could be a hero. I told them I couldn't, but I tried. They said I could save the world and it would still be ok to fall apart after. Maybe I saved someone, but I'm falling apart, and I don't think it's ok.
This isn't what I wanted.
Izuku lifted a foot and stepped onto the ledge. He froze as he tried to gather the strength to shift his weight and get the other foot up.
I should've known it'd end up like this.
He pushed himself up, eyes locked on the last hues of sunlight.
Who would miss a single star in all this?
Death was inevitable, Izuku looked forward to it, that silence, but he never thought the act of dying
would be so painful. And God, it hurt.
Izuku choked on a sob and dug in hands into his hair. "Why does this hurt so much? I just want it to stop," he whimpered, feeling the wind tug at his clothes. "Just make it stop. Please."
"Izuku?"
He looked over his shoulder, finding a terrified boy with blond hair and red eyes. Izuku knew him but couldn't remember how.
"Get down from there," he ordered, taking a step towards Izuku.
Izuku looked back over the ledge not even sure how he got there. "I don't remember your name," he said quietly, looking at the ground.
"K-Kacchan. You call me Kacchan," he said, sounding closer. "Take my hand."
"Kacchan," Izuku muttered, the name sounding well-worn on his tongue. "Are we friends?" He looked over his shoulder at the boy. "Is that why you're here?"
His mouth opened to reply but he shut it a moment later. "You're more than that," he said, the words sounding choked. "Please get down, Izuku."
Izuku considered it as he turned away. "I don't remember much, but I think I hurt some people."
"You didn't hurt anyone," he said, slowly wrapping a hand around Izuku's wrist. "Just come with me and everything will be ok."
Izuku felt a tug but fought it. "How do you know that? Nothing I did mattered."
"It did matter," he said, his voice rising as he gave Izuku's arm another pull. "Everything you did mattered. You just can't remember right now."
"I'm drowning," Izuku realized. "It hurts."
Izuku yelped as he was pulled backward, but he was caught and held tight as they sunk to the floor. "You idiot," he hissed next to Izuku's ear. "We've been looking for you all day."
"Kacchan," Izuku mumbled, feeling sparks of memory as he breathed in the familiar scent and the aching fear eased away. "Kacchan," he cried with relief. "Kacchan, it's happening again. You were right. I'm so sorry."
"Shut up. Just shut up, you're ok," Bakugo said, pulling Izuku in flush against him.
Izuku tried to pull back so he could look Bakugo in the eye, but his grip held tight. "You don't understand, I keep forgetting."
Bakugo's hand tangling in his hair. "You're ok," he said as he moved back, the hand in Izuku's hair sliding forward to his cheek.
Izuku stared into his eyes, feeling his frantic mind slow as Bakugo wiped his cheeks off and muttered about him still being such a cry baby. Izuku saw how his eyes began to crinkle, the line draw between his brows. He heard the way Bakugo's voice cracked at the edges and felt his hands begin to shake.
Izuku reached up and laid his hands over Bakugo's, stilling his movements and his ramblings. "I'm sorry," Izuku breathed, not having the energy for much else.
"It doesn't matter right now," Bakugo said, pulling Izuku close again. "You're back, that's all I care about."
Izuku clenched his teeth and curled his fingers into Bakugo's shirt. "I don't know for how long. It's bad this time."
"It'll be ok."
"It won't," Izuku said, pushing Bakugo back by the shoulders. "You don't understand. I've been trying to get back here all day!" He shook his head, gripping Bakugo tighter. "I keep slipping. I need help."
"I made a promise, didn't I? You remember that don't you?" Bakugo asked as he drew Izuku closer by his jacket. "I won't leave you. I promised. You're safe. . . I've got you."
Izuku relaxed, suddenly exhausted as the mess of emotions coming off Bakugo pressed against him. Izuku wanted to say something to him. Maybe a thank you or another apology. But Izuku felt his eyelids grow heavy and he leaned on Bakugo's shoulder, sighing when he felt warm hands on his back. He felt safe and secure like he could finally let his guard down.
Izuku vaguely remembered being lifted and carried downstairs. The soft click of a door closing. The strong, steady hands that didn't let go of him. How they brushed the tears from his cheeks with surprising gentleness. The soft murmurs that soothed away his hiccups. The weight of a blanket and the feeling of another pair of legs tangled with his. Hearing his name being muttered over and over, reminding him that he was safe and real and protected.
It was there. All around him. Smoke and caramel. Warm and steady and constant. His anchor.