Ojiro's declaration of missing memory led to a somewhat bizarre reaction on Izuku's part. He wouldn't call it a panic attack; that would be an insult to people who had real panic attacks, it was just... really hard to breathe all of the sudden, like he were really allergic to something and he couldn't stop thinking about waking up in that alleyway, the insidious disorientation, the nameless loss, the violation. Then his mind turned to the moments before he had disappeared, the exhaustion, the twisting nausea, the intense and, he was sure, foreign desire to sit down and rest his head, expose himself helplessly to foreign influence. Someone had taken his body, his mind, and paraded it through Aldera Junior High like nothing at all was wrong. People had talked to it like it was Izuku. No one had even noticed the theft. An invisible hand had snatched him right out of his life as easily as a farmer plucking a tomato from a vine and done god only knows what to him for a week with total impunity. He had no idea who or why other than they were somehow associated with the MLA and they could do it again. They only gave him back because they wanted to. They could snatch him anytime just like that and if they weren't feeling generous this time no one would ever see him again and there was no one who could stop them.
"Izuku?" the tailed boy called to him, resting a hand tentatively on his shoulder. "Izuku?"
The greenette pulled at the loose threads of his psyche. Come on. He was fine. Everything was fine. There was no reason to believe that what happened to him could happen again and even if it could there was no point worrying about it like this. He just needed to calm the hell down. "Nerd?" Kacchan called for him, shaking his shoulder. "What happened?"
Somewhere in the fog, Ojiro answered. "I... I told him that I can't remember what happened this round..."
"Let's get him out of here. Get to lunch," Kacchan muttered and Izuku found himself firmly steered out of the stadium.
It was some time later, how much later he couldn't have said, that Izuku registered the presence of a steaming bowl of noodles and a tall glass of sparkling cranberry cider sitting on a table in front of him. He was in the stadium's cafeteria, a cheery room with floor to ceiling windows. Right. Lunch. "You back with us nerd?" Kacchan asked.
"Oh. Yeah..." Izuku cringed in embarrassment. God, he'd done that on national television. Hopefully the cameras hadn't caught any of it. "I'm so sorry, Ojiro," Izuku blurted out. The tailed boy blinked. "You were asking for help and I just..." couldn't offer help and, in fact, immediately needed help himself, "lost it."
"What actually happened here?" asked Shouji. The four of them were sequestered at a small, round table in a back corner, well isolated from other students.
"One of the general education students, Shinsou Hitosh, has... some kind of mind control quirk," Ojiro explained, "which he used to recruit and control his team during the cavalry battle."
Shouji grimaced. "That's... a really creepy thing to do. I suppose it's not against the rules, maybe, since we were allowed to use our quirks to prepare for the exercise but... he's sure not going to make or keep any friends acting like that."
"That's a dick move," Katsuki snarled. "Cool quirk, totally fucked up way to use it."
"If he'd asked me like a normal person to be on his team I would have said yes," Ojiro grumbled, "and Midoriya and I would be able to enjoy lunch... I think Shinsou's quirk is a verbal trigger, like you have to talk to him before he can do something to you."
"I don't remember talking to anyone before I disappeared," Izuku said. Shinsou's quirk was probably just a coincidence. It likely had absolutely nothing to do with Izuku's kidnappers.
Ojiro shook his head. "His hold on me broke at the end of the round when someone bumped me, so I can't imagine a quirk like his would have been able to effectively kidnap someone for a whole week."
"Sorry again for freaking out," Izuku said, the embarrassment rearing its head.
"Ya' know," Kacchan pitched in, "I was always kind of freaked out that you weren't freaked out. I mean, the day you showed up in class after being gone for a week, you were hands down the calmest person there, even after we explained what the hell was going on. It was... well, I just kind of assumed that you'd freaked out later when no one could see you."
Had he? Izuku had certainly been upset, cried, raged against the universe but... maybe he'd never really processed things properly and this borderline meltdown was inevitable. The greenette just shrugged in reply. By that point, he felt up to some food and began to tentatively nibble noodles from his bowl. "Thanks for getting me lunch," he said to the anonymous individual who had done so.
Ojiro stood up suddenly. "I'm going to go withdraw from the tournament," he said. "It doesn't feel right. I didn't earn the victory, I was just used. It's... it makes a mockery of everything I stand for."
"I sometimes feel that way about UA," Izuku admitted drearily.
"Your situation is not like mine," Ojiro snapped his tail side to side. "We've had this conversation before. You pretty much got a quirk late and then worked very hard to pass the entrance exam. If you didn't remember taking the entrance exam, if you'd been possessed during that week, that would be a different situation entirely, something like what's happened to me."
"He's got a point, nerd," Katsuki said.
"I'll be back as soon as I catch up with a teacher," Ojiro strode away stiffly.
"What's the final round going to be, anyway?" Izuku asked. He had been so out of it he hadn't heard the announcement.
"Single elimination combat," Shouji replied. "The bracket's been announced already." He whipped out his phone. "You're against Shinsou first, Midoriya." The greenette couldn't stifle his wince.
"This is fine," Izuku told himself. "There's nothing wrong here."
"Kick his ass, nerd," Kacchan told him. "And don't give 'im a chance to rile you up so you slip up and say something to him."
"Bakugou is fighting against... it would have been Ojiro? Whoever takes his place, then."
"Hope it's someone good," the blonde growled. "I'll be pissed if I get someone useless because Ojiro dropped out."
"There will be plenty of fights, Kacchan," Izuku sighed.
"If any of you want to participate in the little games before the final round, they'll be starting in a few minutes," Shouji explained.
"Nah," Kacchan glanced meaningfully down at his lunch. "You can go if you want." Shouji considered this then shook his head. Izuku had no interest in doing... anything at all at the moment. He was going to force himself to eat, but he didn't have the willpower for more than that.
Ojiro rejoined them for the tail end of lunch and then the quartet ascended to the students' section of the bleachers, all save Kacchan who was "on deck" for the next fight thus needed to head for the locker rooms.
On any normal day, Izuku would be frantically taking notes about quirks and strategies as he watched a competition like this, but the leftover anxiety nibbled through him like a worm, draining motivation. In just a handful of rounds he was going to have to fight against Shinsou and he was... utterly unprepared to deal with that. He was just barely aware of Katsuki curb stomping his opponent, a 1-B student Izuku didn't know well.
"Hey, you're on deck," Ojiro nudged the greenette.
"Oh crap!" Izuku squeaked, fleeing from the stands into the maze of tunnels beneath the stadium. He wasn't even sure who was fighting at the moment? Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu maybe?
"Alright," Hound Dog greeted him at the entrance to the arena. "They're through already so you're up. You understand the rules?"
"Yes, sir," that much, at least, Izuku had managed to comprehend. Hound Dog gave him a look. "You alright kid?"
"I... fine," Izuku said. "It's nothing."
"Alright, if you're sure. Good luck."
Izuku stepped out into the arena to cheers and a symphony of distant camera shutters, many accompanied by flashes. Shinsou stood across from him. Huh. It somehow hadn't clicked for Izuku that this was the same kid he'd rescued during the entrance exam... The name had slipped his mind.
"Begin!"
Izuku circled towards his opponent warily. He wasn't completely sure, after all, if Shinsou had other tricks up his sleeve. He didn't know for sure that the brainwashing was triggered by a verbal response. "You're the kid from the entrance exam," the purple haired boy said, squinting. "What have you done to your hair?"
Alright. So they were almost certainly correct about the verbal trigger, then. Izuku wasn't going to mess around here, too risky. The greenette charged forward, ducked a punch, swept his opponent's legs out from under him and pinned the other student in an arm bar within seconds. Shinsou hissed and swore at him, saying all manner of insulting things to try to get a response, but Izuku's brain was working in panic mode again and he didn't really hear any of the taunts. He twisted the captured hand, putting pressure on the joints. "Fine! Fine! I yield!" Shinsou snarled.
Izuku let his furious enemy stand. Shinsou's eyes blazed like dark coals. It certainly wasn't this student's quirk that had led to Izuku's situation, but it was likely a similar quirk had been involved... What might Shinsou know? "Come find me after the festival, please. At school at lunch or w-whatever. Whatever works," Izuku told the general education student, "I think I need to talk to you." Shinsou made no promises, stalking away into the locker rooms. He probably felt cheated, assuming correctly that Izuku had been forewarned about what Shinsou's quirk could do. Yeah, that really wasn't fair to the purple haired student but, then again, having given away the secret of his powers like that in an earlier round, Shinsou had to realize that rumors would circulate and reach the ears of his future opponents. That was just the unfairness of life. Izuku turned and took his leave, finally breathing normally again. The relief was tangible.
Apparently Izuku's next opponent would be Todoroki. That was bad luck, or, as Izuku had so recently put it, "the unfairness of life." In an open arena setting like this with no cover and no resources, the greenette didn't stand a chance. Todoroki could just smash him with a glacier and there would be nothing Izuku could do about it. Oh well. Izuku hadn't expected to make it to the semifinals, not really, and he didn't need or want that kind of attention anyway.
It would be a while yet before his next match. He had best make his way to the stands. Unfortunately, still being distracted, Izuku took a wrong turn. "Alright," he muttered, "where am I?"
"...get over this little temper tantrum!" Izuku started at the fury in the vaguely familiar voice.
"Temper tantrum, father? I've no idea what you mean," Todoroki Shouto replied smoothly. Oh. Todoroki was talking to his father, to Endeavour, the number two hero. Well, not talking precisely... Todoroki Shouto was having a shouting match with Endeavour. This was a family matter and Izuku had best get out of here promptly. He had no business eavesdropping on this. "What are you--wait, stop it!"
A lurid glow of blue-hot flames reflected around the corner and the situation rapidly changed from "family matter Izuku had best avoid" to "potential assault that Izuku would run from if he were smart, but would bear witness to if he were noble."
"Shouto," growled the furious voice of the second ranked pro hero in the country.
Izuku made peace with his potentially idiotic decision to intervene, took a deep breath and strolled around the corner casually. "Hi Todoroki. I think I got lost trying to get back to the stands! Can you help me? Oh, Endeavour! Hello sir! It's an honor to meet you!" He had to shout to be heard over the crackling roar of Endeavour's built-up flames. The fire died down as the greenette spoke, however, the hero gaining back some modicum of composure. Shouto had his back to the wall,
shoulder's hunched and hands in front of him protectively as his father leered down at him. Izuku continued to cheerfully pretend that he had not noticed the tension in the air. "I'd ask for an autograph but I think it would be rude under the circumstances. Could you help me find my way back to the stands though, please, either of you?"
"Sure, I'll show you the way," Todoroki snatched Izuku's hand and pulled him rapidly down a cross corridor.
"Shouto!" Endeavour called after them, but apparently he wasn't going to give chase. It was hard to wrap his head around the fact that, for a good ten seconds there, Izuku had been utterly terrified that the second ranked pro hero in the country, his classmate's father, was going to kill him. That was... he must have been overreacting. Endeavour was always intimidating, and the fury in place of his typical, collected stoicism was a shock. Surely, though, the man wouldn't have physically assaulted anyone, certainly not on UA property. There were security cameras for heaven's sake! People would know!
The classmates walked rapidly, not quite breaking into a jog. Eventually Todoroki Shouto released his death grip on Izuku's hand. "He wasn't really going to hurt me, not like that," the glacier- summoner blurted abruptly, "I don't think... I don't think he was." Apparently they were thinking along similar lines.
Izuku was in no way qualified to speak about matters of emotional abuse or domestic violence. He didn't really know what was going on, whether this was some kind of one time loss of control brought on by the "Zuko" thing or whether... Todoroki had said "he wasn't going to hurt me like that" which had implied that he was going to hurt him in some other way, and these were all ugly, horrible things to have to consider--and still, at the end of the day Izuku had no idea what was going on. There was only so much one could infer from a tiny snapshot of someone else's life. What should he think? What should he say? Maybe encouraging Todoroki to seek out someone more qualified would be the best option. "You might want to think about telling Aizawa," Izuku said. "He helped me with my... special circumstances."
Todoroki gave Izuku a calculating look. "Special circumstances?"
"Something really weird and, let's face it, pretty awful happened to me last year," Izuku replied, not caring to elaborate further. "Aizawa helped me get over it and get on with my life. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." That was likely true. Without Aizawa's encouragement, Izuku likely wouldn't have even tried to pursue his dreams.
Todoroki nodded shortly. "You're my next match." The pair of them had intentionally slowed down as they approached the stairs to the stands, claiming extra time to speak in private.
"Should be a short one," Izuku replied.
The taller boy blinked. "You're quite good."
"There's a reason I'm not going to be frontline," Izuku shrugged. "I might be a match for you in indoor combat or if I could stage an ambush or if I had my weapons on me and some cover, but in an open ring like this there are only a handful of people in the school who stand a chance against you. I'm not one of them."
"You take your impending loss rather well," Todoroki said.
"It's just the way things are and... the rest of today has been so trying," the obstacle course, the cavalry battle, Shinsou, thinking Endeavour was going to kill him... "I really just want to go home
and sleep now. I don't think I really care who wins."
Izuku stepped out into the stands to booing. He blinked in confusion. "Who are they booing?" Izuku asked. Apparently he was asking Mineta because Mineta was the closest.
"Bakugou."
What? "Why?"
"They think he's being mean to Uraraka by treating her like a serious opponent." Izuku glanced down at the match. Uraraka was putting her quirk to good use, attacking Kacchan with floating projectiles. He was not pulling his punches, nor could he afford to if he wanted to win.
"That is really rather rude of them," said Todoroki crossing his arms.
"Yeah. I mean, it's hot when a lady can kick my ass," Mineta began, "but I would never let a lady kick my ass. Come on! It's not sexy to fake things like that. Bakugou's really strong but Uraraka's been doing pretty well so far and it's definitely super hot."
Izuku was way too tired to get into this weird conversation. Thankfully, at that exact moment Aizawa's voice came over the loud speaker and began to systematically shred all the individuals who were booing. Izuku nodded to Mineta and wove his way back to his friends. Todoroki tagged along.
Izuku didn't get to sit down long, however. Uraraka sent a meteor shower of debris hurtling towards Kacchan, but the Explosive student managed to escape with minimal injury and, perhaps thirty seconds later, the match ended with Uraraka pinned to the ground.
Katsuki helped his opponent up and they shook hands amicably. Izuku couldn't help but grin. A year ago, Izuku couldn't have imagined Kacchan behaving so... what word was he looking for, nobly? Respectfully? Some word along those lines. He was a different person now, certainly kinder, and he seemed to be happier, too.
"I suppose we have to go back downstairs already," Todoroki said.
"Yeah," he just got here. What had been the point of coming upstairs in the first place?
"Good luck, Midoriya, Todoroki," Shouji waved to them as they departed.
Izuku stepped out into the arena to face Todoroki. He expected combat to last about ten seconds, if that. The greenette simply had no defense against being sealed inside a glacier.
Todoroki began with one of his less devastating attacks, throwing a ribbon of ice towards Izuku's chest. The smaller combatant dodged and sprinted forward. His only chance would be in hand to hand. Todoroki understood that, too, and blocked Izuku's approach with a wall of frigid crystal. His opponent had not caught Izuku yet, however, and now he wouldn't be able to see properly.
Izuku hopped on top of the ice wall--careful not to slip--and launched himself at Todoroki. Ugh, he was higher than he expected. This landing was going to hurt without his usual support equipment, regardless of whether he managed to land a flying tackle on his opponent.
Izuku was actually going to catch Todoroki, wasn't he? At the last possible moment the glacier summoner whirled to face him and launched an explosive comet of ice in his direction--
The dream was vague, blurry, but became clearer as it progressed. Izuku didn't recognize the ward. He didn't recognize the city, either, but he was definitely in Japan. He managed to read the block number--18--off a sign on a cross street, and got the city name as well, Mandar. Izuku set off towards the edge of town. Civilization vanished suddenly, as if Izuku had stepped off a cliff into the wilderness, mountains rising rapidly in his vision. A few birds chirped in the fading red of twilight. Leaves and branches crunched beneath Izuku's feet, crackling like brittle bones.
He didn't follow the path for long but peeled off into the wild, making his way through dense underbrush, over haphazardly stacked boulders, and up a dry creek bed to a clearing. Was this the place? It had been so long... he wasn't quite sure anymore.
Izuku pulled out a switchblade and sank to the ground, methodically stabbing into the dirt as he shuffled across the clearing. Ah. He did have the right place. Here was the metal hatch. It took perhaps thirty minutes to uncover the entrance. The hinges were rusty and uncooperative. It took a good deal of tugging and complaining to swing the panel open.
Pulling the electric lantern from his bag, Izuku hung it about his neck on a string. He then tied a rope to a nearby tree and tossed it down into the darkness--always provide an alternative means of egress when climbing ancient ladders into pits. Slowly, cautiously the greenette clambered down the entrance rungs, dropping the last half meter to the ground.
Stale air and rampant dust burned his nostrils. Ancient spiderwebs--their weavers long since dead-- clung to the corners of the bunker. The final occupants of this forgotten place had cleaned it well, knowing they were never to return. The chairs about the card table had been pushed in. Spare weapons had been placed in racks on the wall or disassembled and stacked in their cases in a book shelf. Sensitive documents would have been shredded or burned. Non-sensitive documents had been placed in neat piles on the desk in the corner.
Some of the weapons here might still be in working order. The kin of the AK-47 never went out of style, after all. Izuku bit his lip and pushed open the door to the rest of the bunker. The room beyond was about the same size but partitioned in half by fabric walls. The table where battle plans would have been discussed stood on the right of the barrier. Desks where command staff would have worked stood on the left. He ignored the smaller two doors leaving the central room--no need to see that stuff--and stepped through the larger portal to the bunks.
There were sixteen beds in total, although four were rather haphazard affairs on the floor. All had been neatly made, sheets tucked in and pillows fluffed. Foot lockers had been carefully sealed and stacked.
Why was he doing this? There was no need to torture himself like this. What was the point of coming here?
Izuku groggily blinked his eyes open. He was on his back in the dirt... people were cheering.
"Hey, can you hear me?" Midnight was asking him gently. Huh. What happened? "Yeah," Izuku mumbled. "My head hurts..."
"Yeah, I bet. Todoroki hit you in the face with a high speed glacier," Midnight explained. "You've only been out thirty seconds or so, but I was starting to really worry. Recovery Girl should be out here in another minute."
"Thanks," Izuku mumbled, closing his eyes against the searing sunlight. Recovery Girl demanded he open his eyes and Izuku did so. He was immediately declared to have a concussion and less than a minute later found himself on a stretcher bound for Recovery Girl's office.
"Today mostly sucked," Izuku said to no one in particular. "And I just had a really weird dream..." even by Izuku's usual standards that had been really weird. He'd think about it tomorrow.