Izuku's mind was quiet. What few memories invaded his dreams were either so vague as to be uninteresting or calm, mundane things. On one, vivid occasion, Izuku witnessed another attempt to take Chris to see a movie. It was some kind of dark Disney film that Izuku had never heard of. Chris stopped constantly complaining about the plot and the idiocy of the characters after about thirty minutes and remained silent until the end credits. "What do you know," Kuma chortled as they left the theater, "it is possible to take him out! You just have to find the right kind of film."

Izuku looked up the movie in question--it wasn't too hard to find. It was... good despite being a box-office bomb. Apparently Destro had pretty different taste from Izuku, though, because he didn't consider it to be fantastic.

It wasn't until the first night at the training camp, following the terror of being thrown off a cliff and run ragged through a forest full of earth golems--that the period of calm ended.

There was no hurry. His boots clicked rhythmically on the cold marble. He stepped over a velvet rope and descended a flight of stairs that, at first, seemed fit for public view but quickly deteriorated from marble to concrete, becoming a passageway obviously meant for staff and staff alone.

No hurry... speed wouldn't change anything. He punched in the appropriate pin at the electronic lock and stepped out into a room overflowing with the strangest varieties of clutter imaginable--

taxidermy in glass cases, figurines, dioramas, fossils, broken pottery and the occasional piece of tarnished jewelry, cryptically labeled boxes full of who knew what--the place smelled of age and mold, that deep scent that made one want to breathe in and taste the air, as if it might convey some deep wisdom. The air that touched his tongue, though, tasted of blood as well as age.

There were signs of a fierce struggle--shattered glass and broken boxes, stuffing and clay and wood strewn across the floor and spattered with rusty droplets.

Kuma lay at the center of the carnage, sprawled on her side. She would have been unrecognizable if Izuku hadn't already known it was her. The bastard hadn't just killed her, he'd mauled her to death, and not because he needed to, either, because he'd caught her and thought it would be amusing, like a polar bear in a foul temper, destroying anything in his path without a care. There was more blood outside than in. Not a single one of her ribs was unbroken and a good half of her face had been burned away.

He wanted to scream, "bastard, Soul Stealer, you'll pay for this!" but he couldn't. Couldn't overcome the despair, couldn't find the motivation to scream in rage. All For One did what he wanted, and after all of this, after the Japanese government and others were willing to play powers against each other even when one power was a walking, psychopathic apocalypse waiting to happen... All For One wouldn't pay. He'd never pay for this. Izuku didn't have the power to make him pay. Even Chris didn't have the power to make him pay for murdering their oldest friend.

All For One would get away with it. He would get away with everything and there was nothing, not a thing, that Izuku could do about it. He threw himself to the floor, staring at his reflection in the pooled blood, and wept tears of impotent despair.

All those nights binge watching anime with Chris complaining about the main character's poor decision making skills, exam panics back at school holed up together in the library basement trying to remember what the Nabla meant in this context, the end of high command meetings where war plans devolved into fantasizing about buying a cabin in British Columbia after everything was over... There was nothing at all romantic about the way Izuku had loved Kuma. It was far too fierce for romance. They were siblings. They had shared everything--thoughts, feelings, dreams, minds, memories... all that they had shared. He kept those secrets alone now.

"I don't want you to be dead," Izuku whispered. "It's not fair. You didn't deserve it. It's not fair..." It's never fair.

Tears blurred away and Izuku found himself speaking in low growls, as if about to start shouting, to a masked man with auburn hair. He couldn't make out the words he said or the heated reply he received. Things were about to come to blows; that was just fine with Izuku. He'd wasted enough time here already with this piece of flaming garbage. To think that he'd once considered this man a decent human being worthy of his help. The masked man's partner, brilliant pink hair shaved close to her skull, started, flailing her hands as she tried to get something across but she was so frightened that her words were coming in a jumble. Izuku and the man who had been moments from punching each other exchanged bewildered glances as if to ask "do you know what she's talking about?"

Then Izuku heard the growl and set off running before he even processed what was happening. Running from growls was a good reflex to have. Izuku launched himself bodily through the nearest window, arms covering his head. He was only two stories up and managed to land neatly in the street outside. Someone screamed bloody murder behind him, voice fading with a choke--dead, almost certainly--and Izuku took off across the street, a car horn blaring in his wake. He had to get to the bridge. He would have options there--it wasn't that high and there were no dams nearby, he could jump off if the situation became dire.

He'd made it to the deck when he first heard the scrape of claws on concrete behind him. He ducked his head and ran faster, chanced a glance backwards--glowing eyes and mangy fur, wicked claws curved into glittering scimitars, ears laid back flat in fury and maw displaying a nightmare factory of viper teeth, the inverted pentagram hanging proudly from her neck--

He pulled himself over the railing with one hand--his other arm burned so hot it was cold, like dry ice and acid and molten steel being slammed into it all at once with planet shattering, bone vaporizing force. It was only forward momentum that carried Izuku over the edge. He was only vaguely aware of the free plunge into the river, barely coherent enough to spread his arms and kick to propel himself towards the surface.

In a brief moment of lucidity amidst the turmoil of the icy-acid-lava digesting his arm, he recognized that this was by far the most physical pain he had ever experienced and that was a really high bar! His mind swam with disjointed memories and swelled with incoherent, feverish musings, maybe from the psychotropic effects of the bite or maybe because his god damn arm was being vaporized!

He'd never woken screaming bloody murder before. What amazingly bad timing. Any other week it would have been fine. Izuku would have assured his mother that it was just a nightmare; he would probably have told her it was about Stain but, "it's to be expected and it hasn't happened much before so I don't think it's really a problem. Everyone has nightmares sometimes. I'll let you know if they become a frequent occurrence, though. Could we have some hot chocolate?"

But no, of course not, he had to remember this when he was at the summer training camp in a claustrophobic sleeping bag surrounded by the entire first year hero course. Not only that, the dream had been so intense that the bite scar on his arm where War Dog and sunk her teeth into him felt like it burned still and he found that, despite being fully conscious and aware of his situation, he couldn't stop screaming.

He desperately fought to escape his sleeping bag, wriggling out of it like a worm, gasping for air. Kacchan was yelling something and holding Izuku's shoulders. The lights flicked on. Tears streamed down the greenette's face, but it was only a memory and his mind figured that out before too long. The pain didn't fade but rather vanished abruptly as if it had never been. Izuku pitched forward into Katsuki's arms, resting his head against his best friend's shirt. "Holy shirt nerd, what the hell?" the blonde said. Izuku was far too exhausted to even attempt to explain.

"Bakugou, bring Midoriya and come with me," Aizawa ordered. "The rest of you, back to sleep." "After that?" demanded Kaminari, voice shaking.

"Seriously, what the hell is wrong with Midoriya?" Kirishima asked. He sounded borderline hysterical. God, this was so humiliating.

"Nightmares are a part of life in the hero world. Get used to the concept," their teacher replied, tone just barely too soft to be called snapish.

Katsuki hauled Izuku to his feet and then Tiger and Aizawa dragged him out of the boys' communal sleeping quarters, down a broad hallway and into a room that must be the Pussycats'

office.

Kacchan and Izuku sat down on a fluffy purple couch and Tiger draped a rabbit-soft, plush blanket so heavy it seemed to be made of metal over the greenette's shoulders. Wow this was a nice blanket. He needed to get something like this.

"I've had plenty of nightmares," Aizawa said eventually. "I've woken screaming numerous times. It happens in our line of work, but that was obviously not a normal dream."

"It may not be best to pressure him to talk about it now," Tiger broke in gently. "I can take you to watch television, a good comedy perhaps, across the hallway. We can have tea. Perhaps you will be lucky and find some better sleep tonight."

That sounded nice... but Izuku might as well just say what he had seen. He was going to have to tell Aizawa eventually. He need only mention the very last part. It wasn't something he should say in front of Tiger, probably, or Kacchan. "T-that s-sounds lovely, thank you so much," Izuku said, "but I need to talk to Eraserhead alone for a few minutes before I join you."

Kacchan gave him a supremely concerned look. "I'm okay. Sorry for scaring you," he told his friend, "and thanks, I... that was so embarrassing..."

"Heh. I think Kaminari and Kirishima have more to be embarrassed about than you do. They were scared to death and the only thing they heard or saw was you yelling."

Izuku headbutted Katsuki's shoulder affectionately. "Thanks, Kacchan."

"You're like a big, green haired kitten, you know that? Or I guess... well, your hero name fits you." Tiger showed Katsuki out of the room. Izuku cuddled the fluffy blanket closer to make up for the loss of his friend.

"What happened, Midoriya?" Aizawa asked him.

Izuku rolled up his sleeve, revealing the ragged bite scar that marred the skin of his arm. "I remembered how I got this," he whispered. Even thinking about it made the nerves flare with the echoes of all consuming pain. "It was War Dog who bit me."

Aizawa blinked in shock "Are you... are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. It was... I couldn't understand what people were saying or tell exactly where I was... I think she killed everyone I was talking to, we were... we were about to start fighting I think. They weren't my friends and they definitely weren't hers either and I... and I ran. I was on a bridge and when she bit me I jumped off."

Aizawa stared in stark silence for a moment. "Most of what I know of War Dog and her quirk is based on third hand hearsay, but her bite is supposed to have a mind control effect."

"I was already mind controlled," Izuku replied, "or whatever happened to me it had happened long since I... I have no idea how two possession or mind control quirks might interact."

"Probably no one does," Aizawa replied dryly, "or rather the only example we have is you." A long pause followed. "That explains why you were screaming like that, though. My third hand hearsay says a bite from War Dog rewrites pain scales." Izuku gulped and nodded. "Have you ever woken this violently from a dream before?" The greenette shook his head. "Tough luck having it happen now."

"Yeah," Izuku sighed. "I think it might be because I was so exhausted already..."

"That can happen. Sorry, Midoriya. No one has the right to give you a hard time about it, though. They'll understand soon enough, unfortunately. Alright. Thank you telling me promptly. Let's get you settled with Tiger." The underground pro walked the greenette across the hall, weighted fuzzy blanket still draped across his shoulders. Tiger put on some comedy cartoon and provided tea.

After a significant number of episodes the greenette's eyelids grew heavy again. Izuku woke up the next morning sprawled in an arm chair, rather surprised and extremely pleased to have had any additional sleep.

Those with quirks spent the camp working on very specific training. Izuku had more variety in his day. That didn't make it less exhausting but it made it less tedious perhaps.

As the greenette hurled knife after knife into the center of the target on a towering old conifer, he caught sight of the Pussycats' ward Kota glowering at him from a bush. The child had attempted to kick him in a tender location the day before when Izuku had introduced himself, so this was a bit disconcerting. Fortunately, Kota moved along and Izuku went on to his next task unimpeded.

Kacchan met the greenette at lunch along with Ojiro and Shouji. The three of them made no attempt to hide the concern pouring off of them in waves. "So," Katsuki began. "No sleep for you, huh?"

"I did get back to sleep, actually," Izuku replied. "It wasn't a big deal, really..." Izuku was free to discuss this at his discretion, minus details which Aizawa had instructed him to keep to himself until the case was officially closed, one way or another. "I've been remembering a few things from when I was missing, or seeing them in dreams." Shouji's eyes widened, as did Ojiro's. Kacchan already knew, of course. "Last night..." Izuku pulled up his sleeve, revealing the scars, "I remembered how I got these."

"Oh my god," Ashido exclaimed. What? What had happened? Oh. She was staring and pointing at him, as were her current companions Jiro and Uraraka. "What happened to you, Midoriya? Were you bitten by a werewolf?"

Wow. That was... "That's not too far from the truth, actually," Izuku admitted.

"Is that what you were dreaming about last night...?" Mineta asked. When had Mineta even got here? Izuku should not have done this. Now he'd caused this spectacle. Really, Ashido shouldn't have butted into his private conversation like that, but Izuku shouldn't have showed off this injury in a semi-public place, not even as an explanation to his friends. He was always careful when changing clothes to keep his classmates from catching sight of the teeth and bullet scars and now he'd gone and flaunted one like this... he was asking for it.

The smallest member of the class shuddered as Izuku grimaced and pulled his sleeve down. "That looks like it must have hurt like hell . I got bitten by a cat once and I was in the hospital for three days! No wonder you were screaming. I was thinking you were, well, I--sorry. No judgment here."

That unexpected message of compassion and support from a classmate who was typically brash

and off the wall seemed to effectively shut down the conversation. Ashido, Uraraka and Jiro returned to whatever they had been discussing previously. "Thanks," Izuku told Mineta as the purple haired boy walked towards Sero's group. Mineta just waved.

Katsuki took a few bites of his lunch before shakily asking, "you're not, like, actually a werewolf, are you? That's not a real thing, right?"

Izuku considered this. "Well, it depends?" War Dog, although her powers were a quirk rather than supernatural as Kacchan probably meant, seemed to be a werewolf for all intents and purposes. However, Izuku was most definitely not a werewolf, regardless of the bite on his arm. "I mean... no. I'm not a werewolf. I can tell you exactly where I was last time there was a full moon. I was up late researching and then I went downstairs to get a glass of water and my mother was there too, I think also getting a glass of water. I remember because the moon was so bright through the window that I didn't need to turn the kitchen light on..."

"Do you remember meeting me yet?" Ojiro asked suddenly. "The first time, I mean, when you were jumping off buildings."

Izuku sniffed in amusement at the image and shook his head. "I only remember maybe forty minutes total, and a lot of it is just a walk through some woods, nothing helpful."

"I'm glad to hear you've been regaining some of your memories," Shouji said. "I think? It's not... I mean it's nothing you'd rather not remember?" he asked nervously then began flailing all of his arms in an earnest desire to take his words back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I--"

"It's okay. It's not something I'd rather not remember well, actually, I could have done without ever remembering being bitten because that hurt at least ten times more than being shot--"

"You got shot?" Ojiro interrupted in shock, unfortunately loudly enough to attract attention from some neighboring classmates again, including 1-B's Monoma, Ashido's group and a few of the teachers as well.

"You remember getting shot?" Kacchan asked much more quietly.

"Yeah," Izuku muttered, ducking his head and trying to hide beneath his torrent of fluffy, green curls. "I... nearly died. I nearly died when I got bitten, too, if I'd been a second slower she'd have torn me to pieces..." He took in a few deep breaths, fighting a sudden spell of dizziness. It didn't happen. It didn't matter that it could have happened because it didn't happen. Katsuki looked even paler than Izuku felt, so pale his hair seemed dark in comparison. "I always knew," Izuku mumbled, "from the moment the doctor examined me it was obvious that the bullets at least could've killed me, and it wasn't such a jump to think the bite was just as serious and who knew what else but... remembering it is different." He pushed his lunch away, suddenly unable to look at food without thinking about regurgitating it.

Katsuki grabbed him abruptly, giving him some sort of bizarre side-hug head-nuzzle that felt sweet but probably looked awkward and ridiculous. "I'm sorry," Kacchan said. "I'm... if I hadn't been such an ass to you, if I hadn't--"

"It had nothing to do with you, Kacchan," Izuku replied while Ojiro and Shouji regarded them in bewilderment. They didn't know that Bakugou Katsuki had once been the infamous bully of Aldera Middle.

"You don't know that," the blonde hissed. "If I'd been with you that morning, if I'd--"

"You don't know it, either, Kacchan, and if I hadn't been caught, if I weren't here, if I hadn't joined class 1-A..." Ingenium might have been permanently maimed or killed by Stain if Izuku really did have something to do with the villain's distraction during the attack. Iida Tenya and Native would almost certainly both be dead and who knew what would have happened at the USJ? It was hard to imagine, in retrospect, the USJ attack going better than it had for UA. No one was permanently injured or killed. If Izuku had been replaced by one of the members of class 1-B... there wasn't much room for improvement but plenty of room for the butterfly effect to cause things to go horribly wrong. "I've been important here, and I wouldn't be here if I hadn't been caught. Things had to happen this way. It's... it's fine. It was forever ago." He shook his head and tried to convince his body that finishing lunch was a good idea. It stubbornly argued to the contrary.