His soft steps seemed deafening as he strode purposefully down the tile hallway. He slid his key
into the lock and pushed the heavy door open. It swung aside on silent hinges.
Refrigeration units hummed in the ceiling, loud enough to drown out the similar voice of the fluorescent lights.
"Hello my friend," Izuku whispered, slowing as he wove his way between the lockers and metal tables. He hadn't been able to get through prison security--he would have managed it with just a bit more time--but there were few guards here. This infiltration had been no challenge, even in his weakened state.
Chikara's pale skin all but glowed, nearly translucent in the harsh glare. Patchy, dark marks covered his cheeks, the remnants of the markings that would shine into existence when Destro's blood boiled with emotion's power.
Even back when he was just Chris, a college student sprinting from class to class, too busy and broke to eat well, he'd never looked so thin or unkempt. Izuku raised a limp wrist and stared in resignation at a thousand ugly needle marks that bore witness to countless, vile drug cocktails. No cuts, though. The other arm was more of the same. There wasn't a single mark on Chikara's throat, not the bruising of strangulation nor the brutal red of a slit.
"Suicide, Chikara? Hah! And your mother was killed by anti-quirk extremists." Izuku had never believed Destro committed suicide, not for an instant. It was a nice story to tell the media, a clean wrap-up to the tale for the victors writing history. Make Desto out to be an insane loser who died alone by his own hand, cared for by nobody, not even himself. Let him be derided and forgotten.
Izuku ran his fingers through matted hair that had long since lost its fiery shine. At least the killers had the decency to close Chikara's eyes.
There was no justice. There was nothing right in this whole world. Everything they'd ever fought for, everything they'd ever cared for, was meaningless now. Arch was dead, Influx was dead, Destro was dead, Tripswitch was dead, Izuku was as good as dead. The only one who was definitely still alive was Epona and she was ruined, every bit as much as Izuku. Everything they had cared for was wrong and meaningless now and they would never care for anything more
again. The most beautiful statues were mere clunky objects. The most haunting poetry was but empty words. Emotion and meaning had been stripped away, like angels falling from heaven to be incinerated in flames.
They'd fought for freedom. They'd fought just to keep their own alive, free from subjugation, free from people like All For One and his endless spiderwebs woven throughout the bureaucracy of countless countries. He'd believed. Even at Utapa, even when they knew they were going to lose, he'd held out hope that his ideals would not be lost, that something could be salvaged, that his life would have worth, that his death would hold meaning.
Lies, all of it. There wasn't a single person or thing worth dying for. There wasn't a single person or thing worth living for, either. Existence was nothing more than noise in the background, static on a misaligned receiver, a chaos engine burning order into anarchy. This whole damn planet would burn in a few million years, and the only pity was the time frame; tomorrow would suit Izuku much better, saving him from the slog towards the silence of the graves where everything he'd ever foolishly loved lay rotting away to nothing.
The MLA weren't special. They were just another losing faction in another pointless, bloody war just like every other pointless, bloody war in human history.
They should have--should have--what? What did it matter, thinking back and wondering what they'd done wrong? There was nothing right so everything anyone ever did had to be wrong.
Izuku would take Chikara's body home with him, steal back the remains of his oldest and dearest friend, and bury him in a quiet place where All For One and the government could never find him to do... Well, who knew what sort of sick things the Soulstealer's doctor friend liked to do with corpses?
"I didn't realize Rafael became such a nihilist at the end," Izuku whirled to face the speaker. "They all looked so determined and sure of themselves at Utapa. I suppose knowing they were going to lose didn't hurt nearly so much as losing . Holding out hope can be crushing I suppose..."
"Kuma? But... you're dead... wait. This isn't a dream anymore, is it? Not like before."
The shade of Tripswitch approached slowly, looking down at her leader and smiling sadly as she ran her own fingers through his hair. "I'm glad Switcher took Destro's body. I was too much of a mess when the Soulstealer was through to be interesting to the doctor, so they didn't consider keeping my corpse. My friends probably buried me in Canada somewhere. I like Canada."
Izuku huffed, trying not to cry. He couldn't stop himself. Kuma pulled him--and he was himself now, Izuku, not Switcher, in both form and thought--to her chest and patted his hair. "You're alright, little weasel."
"I'm sorry," Izuku sobbed.
"For what?" she asked, mystified.
"I'm sorry you died! I'm sorry I wasn't there! I'm sorry I can't help you. I'm sorry All For One got to do whatever he wanted year after year and everyone hates you and uses your names like you'd agree with them when you wouldn't!"
"Sorry you weren't there? Sweetheart." He wasn't quite sure how to react to that moniker. "You are what, a decade and a half old? Do you remember how old I am and how long I've been dead?"
"But I--"
"This was not your war, Midoriya Izuku. You were never meant to remember any of it. You have enough problems without adding in ten generals' worth of vicarious guilt."
Izuku paused crying to laugh. "I do have a lot of problems don't I?"
"You really do," Kuma sighed. He'd seen that expression before, when she was worried for or annoyed with a fellow general, especially Destro or Bit Weasel. "I'm glad you have it, by the way," Kuma added.
"What?"
"My meta ability. I'm glad it came to the hands of someone like you. You are everything Hirano was not."
"Um... thanks?"
"Yes. Thanks." She cocked her head, considering. "I have a request to make of you, selfish as it may be."
"Yeah?" What could this be about?
She tilted his head back to allow her to stare Izuku straight in the eye despite the height difference. "Survive the next war, and don't forget the last one."
That was certainly not what he expected her to say, although this entire interaction had been pretty unexpected. "I... I'll try."
"Good enough. Oh, and when you see Switcher..." "When?"
" When. Tell him he's a god damned idiot ." What was that for? Being a nihilist? Or was Switcher an idiot about something else?
Lucid or not Izuku was still definitely asleep, and thoughts moved sluggishly. It took him some time to put his finger on the question gnawing at him. "Wait. The Soulstealer's doctor friend? Who steals corpses? Is he the one who makes the nomu?"
"They seem to be his masterworks, yes," Kuma replied, curling her lip in disgust.
"Who is he? Where can I find him?"
Kuma shook her head. "I don't know. I don't think I ever knew." Just how much did these quirk ghosts remember of their own lives and the lives of those who inherited their powers? "He was a legitimate medical practitioner in Japan once... liked to hang out in abandoned hospitals during the war. That's about it. Switcher probably knows, though. You could ask him after you tell him what an idiot he is."
Izuku woke slowly, the vision fading away rather than vanishing with a snap. Wait. Kuma's... quirk ghost--and wasn't that a weird thing to have living in his head--must know what had actually happened to Izuku during his missing week right? Maybe? She must have some idea of how Izuku
had these extra memories. If--when--he saw her again, if Izuku asked what was going on, would she just tell him? Why couldn't he have thought of this five minutes ago? Because he was asleep five minutes ago, and sleeping people are not known for their rational decision making skills.
At some point he was going to have to tell Nedzu the scant details that Kuma had imparted about All For One's dangerous accomplice, but he couldn't stand the thought of having that conversation just yet. How would he even start it? "So, Nedzu, the MLA general who lives in my head said something useful last night after I finished planning to steal Destro's body from a morgue."
Maybe he should send an email instead. It would be less awkward.
Monoma dragged Izuku aside after one of the most unpleasant lunches the greenette had ever braved. Nobody quite knew what to say to Izuku, or Kacchan for that matter. The blonde still looked ready to spontaneously combust at the drop of a hat. The silence had been less oppressive than the sound. Shouji had awkwardly said, "so, nice weather we're having," and Kirishima started discussing the oncoming low pressure system with an excess of enthusiasm.
"It was you, wasn't it?" Monoma asked. "At Tartarus."
"Yeah," Izuku shrugged. There was no need for further elaboration.
Monoma stared at him icily. "You could have died."
"Well... yes?" Obviously.
"If you'd learned to use your quirk properly you could have hidden yourself," the blonde pointed out.
"Uh... yes?" That was also true. Had Izuku possessed some pebbles and a better grasp of Kuma's old ability he could have sealed himself in glass and waited out the carnage, not that he would have.
"Come back to the training ground this evening," it was not phrased as a request. "We'll figure it out."
Monoma waited for him, leaning against the wall with his signature slouch. "So, am I not supposed to ask you about what actually happened during the prison break?" the blonde asked.
"You're not," the greenette replied.
Monoma visibly considered ignoring that rule then shrugged. "It's not like it's not going to be all of us someday. Should we just never talk about death until all of our heads explode from the pressure?"
"Uh... no?" Izuku replied. "It's not like... I don't want the entire class pestering me for details and making me think about what happened, especially since I haven't got it straight in my head yet."
He didn't have his head straight let alone the facts in it. "Our teachers are talking about their experiences with us, because that's their job, but it's not my job to be... some kind of example to the class."
Monoma nodded shallowly a few times, tilting his head a bit. "Yeah, fair I guess." "Did Nedzu send you to do this?"
"Uh... not directly?" the blonde replied.
"That sounds about right."
Izuku didn't succeed with the quirk's full potential that night, not able to marshal up the amount of emotion and energy needed, but he got close to sealing himself in a snow globe once and found himself looking forward to his next scheduled practice. What would it feel like? Would he experience the same kinds of side effects Monoma had when he'd sealed himself in glass? He'd have to be careful in case it was addictive. Could Fossa, say, jump out of an airplane, enter suspended animation mid-fall, and land unscathed when the snow globe shattered on the ground?
Maybe he could ask Kuma about that, if he ever saw her again. Presumably he would see her. They'd crossed paths twice. They might as well cross paths thrice. Kuma might not know all the nuances, though. He'd never seen a memory of the MLA war that involved Kuma using her quirk on herself. She used it rarely enough on other people. They'd once smuggled half the MLA high command through an airport by disguising them as knick-knacks in checked luggage, but Kuma had not been a part of the smuggled group.
Izuku, thoroughly exhausted after quirk practice, walked back into the dorms to find himself dead in the center of a screaming fight.
Katsuki, restrained by Ojiro and Shouji, howled a barely comprehensible set of swear words at Tokoyami. Kirishima, Aoyama, and Iida held the feathered student back and did what they could to keep Dark Shadow from lunging forward towards Katsuki's sparking palms.
"As class president I must demand that you stop this immediately! It is unbecoming of hero students of UA--"
"He's unbecoming of hero students of UA!" Katsuki roared.
"Liar!" Dark Shadow howled.
"You don't know anything!" Tokoyami screamed along with his familiar.
Todoroki, who had been fetching a bowl of cereal from the kitchen, stood slack-jawed, staring at the chaos as if seeing other humans for the very first time. Todoroki was the only one present with a quirk that could neatly keep Dark Shadow under control--Yaoyorozu and her ability to instantly create a floodlight were nowhere to be seen--but the fire wielder was going to be of no help. It was as if he'd never seen a real fight like this before... and maybe he hadn't? Had he been privately tutored prior to UA?
"He's a murderer! The sooner you face the goddamned facts and get over your stupid hero worship--" Oh. Hawks again.
" My stupid hero worship? Why you--" "As class president I must insist--"
"One more word and I'm adding you to my list of birds to barbecue!"
"Stop it you guys. Wh--!"
"I'd like to see you try it! We'll eat you alive !"
Dark Shadow slashed at Katsuki who retaliated with an explosion much too bright and powerful for indoor use. The building shook ever so slightly and a picture frame fell off the wall.
Todoroki cocked his head in fascination. He was going to drop his cereal if he didn't readjust his grip.
Ojiro nearly lost his own grip, supplementing the hold with his tail. Dark Shadow, hissing in rage, slashed his talons into one of the lights, growing in power as the room darkened. Izuku, who until that point must have worn a slack-jawed expression not unlike Todoroki's, mustered his best battlefield voice and roared, "what is going on here?" Unfortunately, Dark Shadow was not inclined to listen to him, although Tokoyami and Katsuki both glanced in the greenette's direction. Briefly.
Dark Shadow snapped at Katsuki and Shouji let go and rolled to the side, not wanting to catch a wayward claw's edge. Ojiro's grips slipped, too, and he sprawled on the carpet--
"What is going on here?" a significantly angrier voice cut through the din and Aizawa appeared like some kind of demon, hair floating and eyes glowing like coals. Dark Shadow did listen to Aizawa, cowering away from the teacher; he was clearly terrified of the man's erasure quirk. The room froze as if suspended in Kuma's glass.
Silence. "I think Bakugou and Tokoyami are fighting," Todoroki eventually supplied.
Aizawa turned to the chaotic teen ready to read him the riot act, then blinked in surprise. "You... are perfectly sincere, aren't you?"
"Well... yes?"
"Never mind," Aizawa sighed. "Bakugou. Tokoyami. Dark Shadow. Come with me. Now."
"Yes, Mr. Aizawa," the trio grudgingly trooped out the door after their teacher.
"I will go find Yaoyorozu and ask her for a replacement bulb for the light," Iida volunteered, hopping up the stairs.
Ojiro picked himself up off the floor, Shouji lending him a hand.
"What happened?" the greenette asked his friends.
Ojiro shrugged. "I only got here after they started screaming at each other." "It was about Hawks," Shouji replied, "though that's rather obvious." "Yeah, we should've seen that coming," Izuku grimaced.
"There was something on the news about Hawks being involved with a PLF member, Dabi, and Tokoyami said they were lying, that Hawks would never do that. Bakugou pointed out that Hawks was a murderer and a traitor who would do anything and, well..."
"Things escalated quickly," Ojiro put in.
Kirishima, who was picking up glass from the carpet with hardened fingers, nodded. "I thought they were going to kill each other. I've never seen Bakugou like that before... or Tokoyami for that matter."
"Oh, Katsuki used to get into fights at school all the time ," Izuku replied. Kirishima blinked at him. "Wait, really?"
"Oh yeah," perhaps this was more than Izuku should have shared. "Our middle school was... sketchy," he said, mitigating any accidental slander by suggesting that Kacchan was not the instigator and, in fact, only defending himself.
"Just what happened to you was sketchy enough," Ojiro agreed quietly.
"What happened to Midoriya that was sketchy?" asked Kirishima, looking up from his glass collection. Yaoyorozu and Iida appeared to help with the cleanup.
Izuku shrugged. How many of his classmates knew about his disappearance and reappearance at this point? He couldn't keep straight who he'd told. Why not make it everyone and erase that problem? He didn't have to worry about who knew that secret if it weren't a secret anymore. He didn't particularly care about them knowing at this point. It was in the newspapers anyway. It was public record if you knew where to look. He wasn't in any way ashamed of it, not anymore anyway. "I was kidnapped for a week in my final year of junior high. I showed up to school more than a week late with no recollection of the time in between and, yeah, that was probably the sketchiest thing that ever happened at Aldera Junior High... well, there was that one time when someone poured marbles down the staircase..."
A few seconds of silence followed, broken only by the clink of glass against Kirishima's fingers. "No, no. Kidnapping is sketchier than a silly prank," Uraraka said, strangled.
"A week, kero?" Tsu asked, clearly horrified. "And you don't remember any of it?"
"Mostly," Izuku shrugged. "It wasn't... well, it was a big deal," he admitted.
"Did they ever catch who did it?" Yaoyorozu demanded, equally horrified.
The greenette shook his head. "And at this point there's no chance of that ever happening." Not that he really wanted them to be caught.
"That's absolutely horrifying, my friend," Aoyama sighed, offering Izuku a pat on the shoulder. "No wonder you have issues." Huh. They weren't acting nearly as stilted around him anymore. At lunch he couldn't have imagined anyone, not even one of his close three friends, giving him a comforting shoulder pat. It was as if Izuku's display of vulnerability had banished a portion of the stigma that came with being the first in the class to end a life.
"Hey," the greenette protested. "I, well..." he did have issues.
"That's why you decided to become a hero, isn't it?" Hagakure asked quietly. Izuku could hear the implied "undercover" in front of "hero."
"I always wanted to be a hero," the greenette said. "This just changed what kind of work I wanted to do."
"This explains so much about you," Ashido hummed.
"It does?"
"Yeah you... always seem more grown up than the rest of us. Like you've seen it all," several people nodded in agreement with the pink haired girl.
"But if he doesn't remember it--" Kirishima pointed out.
"Well, there are a few things I remember," Izuku shrugged.
"That time at the summer camp," Mineta said slowly. "When you woke up screaming... was that?"
Why did he have to bring that up? Izuku grimaced. "Yeah. I don't... most of it I'm not allowed to talk about. Things I'm allowed to talk about I'd rather not."
"Oh, uh, I didn't mean to pry," Mineta turned away awkwardly. Izuku shook his head. "You didn't," not much anyway.