It was on the evening of Izuku's third day of "observation" that the Bakguous came to visit. Inko and Izuku sat on one of the beds. Mitsuki took a seat on the opposite bed. Katsuki and Masaru each pulled up a chair.

"I believe this brat has something to say to you," Mitsuki glowered at her child.

Had Kacchan ever looked like this before? Defeated and miserable, ringed eyes downcast and without a single ember of their usual defiance. "I'm sorry for being a little bitch to you, Izuku." He called him Izuku? Not Deku?

"Close enough," Mitsuki sighed. "And I'm sorry, too, for letting him get away with this. I put my foot down about all the wrong things." Masaru said something similar. Kacchan cringed, burning with the humiliation of having both of his parents apologize on his behalf.

"What in the name of gods happened to you, Izuku? Are you alright?" Mitsuki asked as her husband finished speaking. She hadn't waited to hear if the apology was accepted. Maybe she just assumed it wasn't.

"I don't know," Izuku shook his head. He was going to have to give variations of this speech a lot, wasn't he?

"What do you mean you don't know?" asked Kacchan sharply. Mitsuki hissed at him like an angry cat.

"I don't remember anything since the very start of the day on Monday the fourteenth," Izuku rapped on the side of his head with a knuckle. "There's nothing there and the police don't know anything either."

"Or if they know they're not telling," Inko said, arms crossed and a dark haze in her eyes. Of course they would tell, wouldn't they?

"That's fucking terrifying," Kacchan said. Masaru and Mitsuki both berated him for that.

"It's alright," Izuku shook his had. "He's right, in any case. I know how to do a bunch of things that I didn't know before and I have scars and a bite mark that I don't remember getting."

The temperature in the room noticeably dropped at the word "scars." "You're not actually hurt, though, Izuku. You're not, right?" Kacchan asked him.

"Not anymore. The doctor said that I'd had a bunch of injuries speed healed but, like I said, I don't know anything about that."

Mitsuki closed her eyes and Masaru took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair repeatedly. "I can't figure out if you're unbelievably unlucky or unbelievably lucky," Kacchan said.

"Both, I think," Izuku replied. "The underground hero who was looking for me pointed out that they don't usually find people alive after kidnappings like this." That got a wince from everyone in the room except for Izuku who had already become desensitized to that particular ugly truth.

"Can I talk to you alone?" Kacchan demanded suddenly, still refusing to look up. "Katsuki..." Mitsuki began to growl.

"That's fine," Izuku intervened. "Yeah. Let's let the adults talk for a few minutes." The parents-- somewhat reluctantly--stepped out into the hallway.

Silence. After a minute of awkward waiting, Kacchan met Izuku's eyes for the first time. "I thought I fucking killed you," he said. Izuku blinked. What was he supposed to say to that? "I told you to kill yourself and then you disappeared. I thought you were dead. And it was my damn fault."

"You didn't--it wasn't--nothing--I--I don't know what I'm trying to say!" Izuku rubbed his short hair, missing his curls. "I don't remember that, Kacchan."

"You don't? I thought--"

"I told you, I don't remember anything that happened that day other than getting up and going to school. I sat down on a bench on my way because I was feeling sick and then I woke up in a back alleyway half way across town a week later."

"You don't remember me telling you to jump off the roof, hoping you'd get a quirk in your next life?"

"W-what?"

"Because that's what I said. I fucking said that to you!" Kacchan snarled. "And then you did--I mean I thought you did!"

"I didn't," Izuku whispered. "I never would."

Kacchan hissed, leaning backwards with his eyes closed and rubbing at his face with the heel of his palm. "I didn't mean it."

"Of course you didn't," Izuku whispered. There was never any doubt about that.

"I never meant it, any of it, I just... I don't know. I wanted you to get mad. I wanted you to yell at me and tell me off like the hag does and fight me like you thought I was worth it and I didn't know what to do when you wouldn't. I don't understand you and..."

Izuku sighed. "I don't understand you, either, Kacchan."

"I spent the whole week," he said, sounding as if he hadn't slept in days, "wondering what the hell

made me say something like that when I knew it was fucking disgusting. If I ever caught someone else saying something like that I would beat them to a bloody pulp, but for some reason I said it to you anyway and I couldn't take it back--I thought you were dead and I'd never have the chance to take it back and I'd have to live with it for the rest of my life, live with blood on my hands that I could never wash off!" Katsuki took a deep breath, noticeably calming himself. Izuku hadn't realized that was something Kacchan was capable of doing. "That could have been my life. I don't want it. I don't want to be that bitch anymore."

The two old friends stared at each other in silence. "You don't have to be," Izuku said softly. "Don't really know how not to be that bitch, though," Katsuki muttered.

Did he actually want a suggestion? "Just... hang out with people who aren't like that and it will rub off, or s-so I've heard."

Katsuki sighed again, but the tiniest hint of a smile graced his face for a moment. "Is that an invitation, Izuku? Could I start following you around now like you used to follow me?"

"Sure."

"You really mean that, don't you? You don't hold any of it against me. You are too pure for this fucked up world, Izuku."

"I don't even remember it..."

"That doesn't mean it didn't happen!" Katsuki snarled. "The way I've felt this week... I didn't even know it was possible to feel this horrible." He raked his fingernails through his hair. They came away bloody.

"Sorry, Kacchan."

"Don't apologize to me you--you--what's wrong with you? You're apologizing to me because I was an asshole? I don't--why are you like this?"

"I d-don't know?"

Kacchan got up, walked over to Izuku and pulled him off the bed to hug him. The greenette allowed himself to be manipulated like a rag doll. He was far too shocked for any other response. He couldn't remember the last time Kacchan had willingly touched him in a way that wasn't intended to cause pain. Without another word, Izuku's old friend turned on his heel and slunk out of the room.

Later that night as he lay awake staring at the popcorn ceiling of his lonely realm of exile, Izuku would question whether the hug had happened at all.

Each day of his "observation week" seemed to last forever, but when the ordeal was finally over Izuku felt almost as if it had never occurred, as if time had just flown by.

Izuku returned to school and did his best to pretend that nothing at all strange had happened. That attempt lasted less than five minutes. Mr. Kondo outright asked Izuku what had happened to him. It was a bit surprising that the story hadn't made it into the local news. Well, maybe it wasn't surprising given how forgettable Izuku seemed to be.

It was probably for the best that the teacher demanded an answer from him publicly like that, because it saved the student from being asked separately by every single member of the class. He gave a quick, edited version. "I don't remember anything that happened that week. They presume I was kidnapped by a villain with a mind control quirk but nobody knows anything more than that."

Izuku's unwanted status as a subject of gossip and intrigue lasted for about a week and then there was a fight across the street between Miruko and a villain who looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger (The Terminator was a truly ancient cult-classic from which Izuku had only ever seen a few clips). The story of the disappearing-reappearing Aldera student was forgotten.

At school, Izuku never mentioned any of the mysterious new skills he had obtained, except to his English teacher; the student didn't want to be accused of cheating when he became fluent in the language overnight. A single conversation with the man was enough to assure the older gentleman (anyone who dressed like that so religiously everyday counted as a gentleman) that Izuku was not lying about this. "Bizarre," was the only thing Mr. Sano said. "Do you want to be moved out of the class? There's no point in you being here anymore."

"I-I don't really want people to know," Izuku explained, fidgeting.

The man nodded knowingly. "I can well understand that. Just keep your head down. I won't call on you in class. You can pretend nothing changed."

In school for a few hours a day, sure. That worked. He couldn't pretend all the time, though, because everything was different.

Izuku even walked differently. His posture had changed. It was subtle, but it made a huge difference. His footsteps were soft and sure. Every movement seemed to be planned so as to waste the least momentum. It was hard to forget what had happened to him with those constant reminders.

After their confrontation at the hotel, Kacchan avoided Izuku like... not like the plague. Kacchan was avoiding him in the way an embarrassed young girl would avoid the gaze of the boy she had a crush on--not that Katsuki had a crush on Izuku. That would be too weird--they'd known each other too long for that.

Izuku filled out form 21-T in preparation for the UA entrance exam. He tried to take Aizawa's advice about conditioning. It wasn't as if he hadn't run to (and from) school many times in his life racing the clock, but now he did it every day racing only himself.

Kacchan stared at him, one eye twitching. "What in the world do you think you're doing?" the Explosion wielder demanded.

Was Izuku actually supposed to answer that question. "Um... leaping across rooftops?" The rooftops in question belonged to second story buildings and were no more than ten feet apart.

"W-what?" the blonde demanded, looking as if his head might implode. "You are--yes, but why?"

"I wanted to see if I could? I mean, I came back from my missing week a bit stronger and faster than before, but it wasn't anything drastic and I wasn't sure if just "knowing how to leap over

fences and between rooftops" was good enough or if I needed to be stronger than I am."

Katsuki sank to the ground, rubbing his eyes. "So, yes, apparently it's enough. It's not like you were ever in rotten shape. So once you found the answer to your little question why the hell did you keep on doing it?"

"Well... it's fun." It seemed a rather poor excuse when put that way.

Katsuki assessed him critically, eyes crawling up from his ankles to the tips of his fledgling curls (they were just starting to grow back).

"If the police weren't one hundred percent sure you were actually Izuku I wouldn't know what to think," his old friend said.

No. Don't say that. "Don't--please, don't say things like that. Let me at least be me still, whatever else I may have been."

It appeared to take Katsuki several second to figure out what Izuku was talking about. "Oh," he said at last, then his eyes widened abruptly. "And you really just... came back knowing how to do all this insane ninja shit?"

"Yeah."

"That... that sounds crazy, you know that?"

"Yeah."

"So you know how to jump across rooftops and over fences."

"Yeah." At some point, Izuku was going to have to come up with something else to say. He couldn't just reply "yeah" for the rest of his life.

Kacchan shook his head. "What the hell did you do that week?" "I don't think I'll ever know," Izuku said softly.

"What else can you do?"

"Fight."

Kacchan cocked his head. "Wanna' show me?"

"We should walk someplace softer, with grass I mean," Izuku replied. There was no point in continuing this conversation in a dusty alleyway.

The two approached a quiet portion of the triangle park. The squeals of young children on the playground were barely audible at this distance. No one was liable to disturb them in this little grove of conifers. Kacchan lunged for Izuku, starting off with a right hook--the usual. Izuku sidestepped and threw Katsuki over his shoulder. His old friend stared up at him with wide eyes. "I kinda' thought you were just crazy," Kacchan admitted before leaping to his feet and trying to attack again.

They grappled and wrestled and tossed each other around for perhaps the better part of an hour. Neither of them really knew what they were trying to do--Izuku was just following instinct and Katsuki might be doing the same but to a less radical extent--and there were no explicit rules. Katsuki kept his quirk to himself. Izuku consciously fought against the nagging urges to fight dirty,

to throw dirt in an enemy's eyes or pick up an improvised weapon. It was difficult, though, because he had almost no conscious control over "how" he did something. He could decide to attack or retreat in a given situation, but didn't know enough about the memories his body followed to predict exactly what he was about to do. It was disorienting, like being a marionette dragged through these motions, frightening as it reminded him of all that missing time when he hadn't been himself.

Both Katsuki and Izuku were thoroughly worn out by the time the sun began to set. "We should... do this again," Katsuki panted. "You're freakin'... scary all the sudden."

Izuku waited for his breathing to slow before he replied. "I need to get used to the way I move now. Just reflexively doing things isn't going to work, I have to understand what those reflexes are so... yeah. I'd appreciate sparring with you again."

The blonde grunted. "We'll need to... rope some other people in. Just sparring with one person breeds bad habits. I'll see if I can find someone worth your time."

"Thank you," Izuku said as the two students got to their feet. Both were covered in a dirt and numerous blooming bruises. Two older women walking through the park had, apparently, been watching the fighting for some time. They gave the students judgmental looks. The students departed swiftly. Sparring in public certainly wasn't illegal as long as quirks weren't involved, but it might be disreputable.

It wasn't until after he arrived home that Izuku realized "I'll see if I can find someone worth your time" was by far the nicest thing Kacchan had ever said to him.

Another one of these dreams. Weird. It was a brisk fall day, the sun low in the south-west. He stood on the stone arch bridge, leaning heavily on the railing, humming under his breath. The roar of the water flowing over the dam a hundred meters upriver was nearly enough to drown out his cheery tune even for his own ears. The spray kicked up by the artificial falls created a semi- permanent rainbow. A bald eagle skimmed the air, moving far too quickly to be called "drifting" but too slowly to be called "diving." The birds had a nest around here somewhere. Any chicks from spring would be up on their training feathers by now.

Behind Izuku, a number of people walking or riding bicycles shouted excitedly about the bird. The locals humored them, but were quite accustomed to seeing the raptors flying across the river here. "Beautiful creature," someone said with a heavy Japanese accent. Izuku turned to his left and noted a young man with long, ruby-tinted hair tied back in a ponytail and a shirt with a conspicuous school logo. Fierce eyes and sharp features added a hint of danger to his casual demeanor. Normally, Izuku wouldn't have bothered introducing himself to a stranger in a situation like this, but in this case he couldn't help himself... because the stranger was humming the same song as Izuku.

"Freshman or exchange student?" he asked.

"Oh, uh freshman," the student replied.

"You've probably come a long way," Izuku nodded. "There's an advantage there." If you ran far

enough, no one would remember who you were or what you might or might not have. You could start over. "And a disadvantage. I miss home sometimes."

The freshman nodded. "I see. It's the same here. I'm Chris, by the way." Presumably that was an English name adopted to avoid hearing his real name mangled repeatedly. "What is yours?"

"I know him," Izuku woke muttering to himself. "I know him, I know him. I've seen him before... Chris..."