Despite his talk with Reo, Izuku still has his own buried anxieties about the upcoming raid. And it feels strange, Izuku thinks, to see how everyone else simply continues to go about their lives Everyone around him carries about the mundanity of their day, clueless to the swarm of thoughts in his head, to the turmoil in his chest.
Their normalcy chants to him, 'nothing is wrong'. But it's a lie, to Reo, to Aizawa, to the detective. It's a lie because they know better, because they understand what's to be at stake in the coming days; because they understand the lives that will be on the line. The quiet wait is agonizing. It gives Izuku too much time to think.
He does what he can to keep himself distracted, scribbling hero notes to keep himself focused. At training he pushes himself more so than usual—intent on drowning out his creeping anxieties with the pounding of blood in his ears. Because Reo trusted him, because some days Izuku still didn't trust himself.
He meets Reo and Shinsou for lunch and they eat like normal. They laugh like nothing's wrong— because Izuku's a good liar, and at some point Reo became one too.
But, he finds comfort in the company of friendly faces.
At the dojo Hirano greets him excitedly, "Midoriya!" She rushes forward to drag him into the dojo, barely giving him enough time to slip his shoes off. "I never see you anymore!" she whines playfully, "You've been ditching us for another dojo haven't you?" she asks with a squint to her eyes.
Izuku snorts, gently pulling away to put his stuff down. It's been a while since he's been able to come by, busy training alongside Aizawa and Shinsou during the hours he might usually have found himself at the dojo.
A hand ruffles his hair from behind. "He's busy with hero training," Ji-Woo states. There's a rare, soft smile on her lips; the cool glow of her freckles shining in the black of her eyes. "It's good to see you, Midoriya."
Hirano looks at him with a blinding excitement. "Really?! You're actually doing it?!" A flush rises to Izuku's cheeks.
"He took third in UA's sports festival of course he is," Gamon cuts in, bright smile on their face. They use Hirano's head for an armrest before she bats it away.
"Do you have a hero suit yet?" Hirano asks, turning back to him. She bounces a few times on the balls of her feet. "You have to show me!"
"I don't have any pictures of it right now, but I'll try to get one next time," Izuku answers, scratching shyly at the back of his head.
"You have to show us later, promise?" Hirano pleads.
Izuku laughs, bright and genuine because, for a moment, he can set aside his worries. "I promise." To Izuku, who had no cousins or distant relatives to keep in touch with, the people here filled that role. Even if they didn't know everything about each other, even if they only ever met on the tatami mats of the dojo, he had found a home here. He'd built his dreams—too big for a quirkless kid—through blood and sweat and bruises and he'd done it all on these mats. The look in Ji-Woo's eyes is still unreadable, but on her face is an unmistakable kindness for the kid she'd watched grow up.
Gamon pulls him into a one-armed hug. "I'll hold you to that," they warn with a grin.
It's easy to forget around them.
At home he watches movies with Inko, curled up on the couch eating lukewarm delivery food in an attempt at normalcy. His thoughts surge in isolation and silence and Izuku is desperate not to think. But eventually Inko leaves him to sleep with a yawn on her lips and a wobble in her steps.
It's been a long time since he felt like crawling into bed beside her just to escape the darkness he
can feel pulsing in his chest like the beginnings of a black hole. It yawns open wider, void-like and inevitable as the days wear on.
Aizawa runs them hard during training, more so than usual and curled beside Izuku's anxiety is a looming sense of guilt. It'd been eating at him since Aizawa had first brought up the idea of internships, a constant: "but what about Shinsou?" running in the back of his mind that had only amplified after receiving his hero gear. He deserved this opportunity just as much as Izuku did. His quirk, while non-destructive, was powerful. He'd stopped Stain in those final moments where Izuku had failed. Izuku's certain that he'd be a great ally to have going up against the Shie Hassaikai, he certainly wouldn't turn down the chance to work alongside him. Maybe that's why he finds himself telling Shinsou about everything during the short period they have before Aizawa returns with water bottles. He doesn't tell him about the raid, keeping the situation vague while still being truthful with his friend. His fingers work wrinkles into the bottom of his shirt, scared of the boy's reaction.
Shinsou lets out a short hum beside him, leaning back against the wall. "S'that why he's been so serious with training recently?"
"I—" Izuku turns to him in confusion. "Yeah—" he finishes lamely, caught off guard by his nonchalant response.
But Shinsou's been friends with the boy long enough to sense the presence of the unasked question: 'You're not mad?' There's a huff of a laugh from Shinsou when he shakes his head. "I watched that video of you beating Aizawa in that simulation training. I'm not there yet."
Izuku's head whips up, eyes wide, brows twisted with something sad, not for himself, but for Shinsou. "But your quirk—" Izuku tries, trailing off.
"Can't stop everyone," Shinsou finishes for him. "And I need to be able to defend myself when it can't. That's why I have to get stronger first." He smirks. "Quirks aren't everything, I thought you of all people would understand that best," Shinsou says, bumping shoulders with him before his mood becomes something more somber. "I could barely do anything to stop Stain, even now, after all of Aizawa's training, I wouldn't be able to." He raises his hand, staring at something invisible in his palm before he clenches it tight. He looks back up at Izuku. "Whether we take the same path or not doesn't matter, we're still heading for the same place after all, right?" There's a smile that graces his face, all teeth and determination. "All the way to the hero course," Shinsou reminds him. He raises his fist.
Izuku hesitates only a moment before meeting him halfway. His resolve hardens, determination flaring in kind as they bump fists. "All the way to the hero course," Izuku replies, his grin a blinding thing.
There's a warm hum of friendship in his chest. Izuku gives himself a chance to revel in it as Aizawa returns and they get back to work.
"You've been busier recently," Oboro notes with a smile. "Anything new happen?"
Izuku fidgets in his seat. Aizawa has warned him not to tell anyone about the raid, but surely... If he could keep Piper's secret, he could keep this.
"I've been assigned to a raid operation," he starts nervously, "for my hero internship. It's a huge deal, a lot of big heroes are working on it."
"Does that make you nervous?"
"No, it's just—"
Oboro gives him a chance to continue.
"Overhaul. It's a raid operation to catch Overhaul and rescue Eri."
And there's surprise on Oboro's face, a rare sight of confliction. A hushed quiet falls through the room as the man processes the meaning behind the words. "Eri is the little girl you tried to save as Piper, correct?" He asks eventually—like he's confirming his worst fears.
"I can back out at any time and no one would judge me for it," Izuku murmurs.
Oboro takes a moment to study him, spying the tension in his shoulders and the anxiety in the twitch of his fingers. "But will you?"
There's not so much as a contemplative pause from the boy. "No," Izuku admits, "This was Piper's last wish. It's only fitting that I help see it to its end." A wobbling smile pulls at the boy's lips as he looks up.
Oboro feels a twinge of guilt in his chest when he sees the look on his face. He sighs, had he known that this was the past that the boy would be facing when Shouta first brought up Piper's last case, he never would've nudged him into the internship. Overhaul was someone that had killed the boy once for standing in his way.
"I want to say I'm not scared of him," Izuku states quietly, "but I am. I still get nightmares. I still dream of that day, but ..." he trails off, " I'm more scared of losing Eri again. " And there's gravity to those words, a weight too crushing for a kid Izuku's age. "I just—I have to save her. If we fail here it's over. This is my last chance at fixing things."
There's a gentle furrow that settles in Oboro's brows. "Nothing you've done or failed to do is worth needing redemption for," he states. His voice is gentle even where it's stern. "You've gone through things no kid your age should have to, Midoriya." He says it like Izuku needs reminding, like he'd somehow forgotten that he'd only just turned 16.
But there's something in his words that sticks with Izuku—that idea of redemption, of atonement.
He makes a jerky nod of his head like he's agreeing with him, like he understands even if he doesn't want to. It does little to ease the furrow in his therapist's brows.
The rest of their session carries on as normal, they return to easier topics and before long their time runs out.
"Stay safe," Oboro tells him, walking the short way towards the door with Izuku. There's a smile pulling at his lips. "And kick their asses for me."
Izuku looks up at him, startled as the man leans over him to push open the door.
The soft light in his eye speaks of a story unsaid—whispering to the boy of a sense of déjà vu for someone other than Izuku—like these words had been spoken to someone before him. "You're gonna be a great hero, Midoriya. Take care of yourself; be selfish with your well being. You deserve it after everything you've suffered."
For as long as the following days seem to drag out, July 30th comes faster than he expects.
In the morning he rises early, staring up at the ceiling, watching the sun paint streaks of light across his posters. His thoughts swirl like the spiral spin of galaxies. He takes a breath, doing what he can to clear his mind but flashes of memories come to him unbidden. Even after so long he can still see the twisted look of fear on Eri's face and the golden glint of Overhaul's mask and the clean cut nails of his hand and the laces of his shoes as Izuku takes his first gasping breath after death. He shakes off the memories, forcing himself out of bed. He gets dressed, eats a big breakfast, and presses a lingering kiss to his mother's hairline as he prepares to head out.
"Be careful!" Inko calls after him.
His smile is soft when he looks back. "I will be." "Love you, sweetie."
"Love you too, mom."
It's no more than their usual goodbye, but Inko still finds herself holding her cheek in his absence, eyes soft where she doesn't know any better, chest uncomfortably tight where she can sense something isn't right.
She fiddles with her hands at the kitchen table, unsure what to do with her sudden unease. Midoriya Inko hasn't prayed in many years, but that morning she bows her head and prays for his safe return.
Reo is waiting for him at the train station. Izuku spots him first, leaned up against the wall, reading something on his phone. The anxious frown on his friend's face is clear.
"You didn't have to meet me," Izuku says once he's close enough.
Reo's head whips up, checking him over, for what Izuku's not sure. Reo's shoulders droop with something like relief. "I wanted to." He sighs, stepping in close to rest a tired head against the Izuku's shoulder, taking a moment just to compose himself. Izuku pulls him into a hug.
Izuku's eyes soften, Reo's presence easing some of the tension in his chest. "Thank you," he murmurs.
Eventually they pull away and he takes Reo's hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly in an attempt to soothe both of their nerves as they wait.
"Let me know when it's over," Reo murmurs. "I will."
When the train arrives Reo lets their hands fall away from one another. He offers Izuku the same words his mother had. It makes Izuku's stomach churn.
Izuku stares absently out the train window. Everything feels as if it's finally coming full circle. The first person Izuku ever saved had been a little girl, clinging to him in the bathroom hallway of an old convenience store. And now, Red Sun was setting out to do much the same. He'd finish what Piper could not, he'd stand side by side with the people who once stood to see him detained. And at the end of the day he'll return home, to his mother, to Reo.
The void-like loneliness in his chest hums a little louder.
He'll return to the dojo and to school and he'll work his way into the hero course and things will be even better than they are now.
Because they have to be.
Because believing anything besides this will ruin him.
Aizawa has two rings he keeps hidden on a chain around his neck. Izuku doesn't think he's ever noticed it before now. In the wait Izuku finds himself studying all such minute details in the people around him. He notices that Detective Tsukauchi is still wearing his tie despite his bulletproof vest, and he notices the modifications to the guns strapped at Snipe's waist, and he notices that the gold band fitted to Centipeder's mandible oddly matches the one on Nighteye's finger. He keeps himself busy like that. Zipping between hero to student to detective as they're piled into armored vans and other police vehicles. And like the rippling tides of a black hole, Izuku can feel the anxiety swallowing him as the minutes pass. He's running out of things to notice. There's dirt on Aizawa's boot and a stain on Naomasa's collar and a cacophony of thoughts eating away at his resolve, telling him he's not good enough, promising failure where he is not allowed to fail. It's a heavy feeling that settles in his chest––fighting against his lungs. He can't calm the flutter of his heart or the sweat of his palms. But, he'd made a promise to Reo, to himself, that today they would succeed where he had failed in the past.
Aizawa watches him from the corner of his eye, gaze calculative and gauging.
Izuku bores holes into the floor of the van, swaying with each turn they take. His fist clenches in his lap before Aizawa nudges him with a shift of his knee.
"We're here," he murmurs.
The raid begins with the announcement of a warrant, Naomasa at the helm with paper in hand. That's when all hell breaks loose.
Katsukame Rikiya's profile hadn't prepared Izuku for the sheer size of the villain, lumbering over everyone gathered as he busts through the front gate, barely missing the detective in the process. Izuku's heart sinks violently when Naomasa gets lost in the chaos, the attack sending several people flying that Aizawa and Fatgum quickly move to catch. Izuku forces himself to move, jumping in to help pull the officers aside once they're back on the ground. He grits his teeth, turning back towards the ongoing fight as Ryukyu shifts, body contorting to a form much bigger than herself to stop the villain's next attack with a clawed-dragon's foot.
"Go!" She commands, voice loud and booming, "My team will handle this!"
He searches the crowd desperately for Naomasa. "Red!" Aizawa shouts, catching his attention, "We're moving!"
Izuku nods, chest tight as he leaves the officer he'd helped to recover in a safe spot before racing after Aizawa. It's easy to fall back into old habits, moving across the battlefield with an ease that comes only from experience. Chaos ensues around them but he does eventually find Naomasa tangled up in the middle of it. The ball of nerves in his chest loosens. He catches the detective's
eye as he passes, slowing to push back a villain that moves to stop the man from rejoining their group. Izuku lets another hero handle detaining him as he and Naomasa catch up to the others. Izuku moves ahead to keep stride with Aizawa while the detective falls in next to the other officers accompanying them. They storm the house with an unsettling ease, leaving a trail of heroes and police to deal with the wave of yakuza members that guard the main compound. "This feels too easy!" Fatgum calls. But, Izuku knows, just like everyone else, that even if the hero's right, even if something feels wrong, there's nothing they can do now besides push forward. They were in the belly of the beast whose mouth they'd walked willingly into. Things like fear and doubt had no place here.
Nighteye leads their charge alongside Bubble Girl and Centipeder, skidding to a halt in front of an inconspicuous-looking alcove. Izuku takes a steadying breath as Nighteye pushes down on something and with a quiet rumble the entrance to the underground is revealed. There's a small group of villains that rush at them from the staircase leading down, Centipeder and Bubble Girl jumping to subdue them with an efficiency that Izuku doesn't have time to marvel at.
"We'll take care of them!" Bubble Girl calls over her shoulder, criminal pinned beneath her.
Centipeder and Nighteye share a word, a determined glance that tells each other to come back safe before Nighteye surges down the steps, the rest of their group in tow. To Izuku everything feels as if it's happening too fast. He's sprinting towards the gates of hell where Cerberus awaits his return. It's too fast, and yet it's too slow. Time was everything in this situation, if they took too long Overhaul would be able to escape with Eri and everything till now will have been wasted effort.
Nighteye is confident in his navigation through the underground. It isn't long, however, before the hallway dead ends abruptly in front of them, damning in its mere existence. There's a few cries of outrage, confusion. Heads turn toward Nighteye for explanation. In the end, their answer comes from the hero's intern, a third year at UA: Togata Mirio. The teen rips the visor from his head, phasing through the dead end. He comes back moments later, a grim look on his face.
"The wall's thick, but the hall continues on the other side." Fatgum sneers. "Overhaul's work I'd guess."
Just the thought alone sends a pulse of fear through Izuku; that Overhaul's hands had touched here. That the same hands that had destroyed him had brought to life the wall before them. He'd managed to forget for a moment, in the ongoing chaos, the horror in which they were likely to face. The man with hands that killed and the past that Izuku had abandoned.
Snipe is the first to step forward with a sweep of his vermillion cloak. "Step back," he warns, "I'll get us through."
Nighteye and Mirio are quick to usher the others behind the hero as he raises his gun, taking aim. And what comes out of his gun isn't any kind of bullet Izuku's seen before. It's dart-like where it embeds a needle point into the concrete, three prongs unfolding from the sides to stabilize its grip. There's a soft beep. Snipe turns his face away, motioning for the others to do the same.
A second beep, a third. Then an explosion.
Heat scorches the back of Izuku's neck as he stumbles forward a step, flashes of the USJ coming back to him where the explosion burns at his scar. A ringing settles in his ears, bits of rubble tumbling around them.
Fatgum waves a hand in front of his face, a cough escaping him. "Give us a better warning, would ya'?"
It takes Izuku longer to shake off the feeling than he'd like.
"When did you even get something like that," Aizawa asks with a scowl, doing the same before he pulls up his goggles to rub at his eyes.
"After Piper stole my first gun," Snipe informs them as they turn back to face the crumbling hole in the wall. "Taught me to keep a few eggs in different baskets."
"We need to keep going," Nighteye interrupts. He's the first to climb through to the next hall, Izuku and the others quick to follow. But what they step into is worse than any fun house Izuku's seen on t.v. The floor rolls beneath them, ceiling and walls rippling like rushing water. They pull in and push out, exposing pipes in the same breath it swallows them.
"There's no way this is Overhaul's doing," someone mutters, "His quirk doesn't work like this, does it?"
"If it's quirks," Izuku starts hesitantly, recalling the files they'd been given, "This is more like Irinaka, isn't it?
"But the scale of this––" Naomasa grits out, unstable for a moment where there's another rippling wave in the concrete beneath them.
"Those quirk-enhancing drugs," Aizawa grunts, taking a protective step closer to Izuku, "You think they're capable of something to this extent?"
"If they are, we're in trouble." Rock Lock slams his hand into the wall, locking their immediate surroundings in place. "We won't be able to go anywhere like this."
"Eraser." Nighteye turns towards the hero. "Can you cancel it out?"
Beside him Aizawa searches their surroundings, finding nothing. "Not unless I can catch sight of his body."
Mirio steps forward, eyes glinting with some hidden emotion. "I can make it."
"Lemillion," Nighteye's voice is stern yet ineffective as the teen steps past the range of Rock Lock's quirk.
"They're doing this to buy time!" Mirio calls, "I won't let them!" There's a smile on his face when he casts a last glance over his shoulder at them. To Izuku it's no more than a barring of teeth as the boy sinks through the wall, disappearing into a labyrinth no one can follow him into.
"Shit!" Izuku's eyes flicker to where Rock Lock stands. There's a pained look on his face, every inch of his body tense with strain. "I can't hold it much longer, he's fighting it big time," he warns with a grunt. It's not long before their surroundings regain their nauseating dance, the floor lurching back into motion beneath them before dropping away entirely.
It's at most a single-story drop, certainly not enough to kill them. Izuku forces himself into a roll as soon as he hits the floor, knees protesting as dust settles throughout the room. He's quick in moving to help Naomasa stand, keeping a vigilant watch on their surroundings, straining to see past the clearing dust.
That's why Izuku's the first to notice the villains. Naomasa sees the drastic shift in the boy's demeanor, following his eyeline to the two villains standing opposite them. There's a flash of recognition when his eyes land on Yū Hojo, a man he'd only ever seen in shotty security footage. And there's a similar look in the boy's eyes––like he's also met this man before, the look backlit by an anger ill-befitting him.
Hojo's mask is different, Izuku realizes, no longer the beak-like one he'd pulled off after he first stepped out of that alley chasing Eri. He's dressed the same though, same shirt, same expression. And there's a burning star of rage that rises up Izuku's throat upon seeing the man in person. They'd only met once and yet he, in the end, was the reason Izuku was here. He was the reason any of them were here. He was the reason Eri was still here, he was the reason Izuku had died, and why he'd been at the USJ, and why Piper was being mourned instead of celebrated. Yū Hojo: the start of it all, the catalyst. The star burns brightly, blinding.
He steps carefully away from Naomasa, unholstering the condensed staff at his side. With a press of a button it extends outwards, ends crackling with a burst of electricity. The noise draws the attention of the others in the room.
Aizawa's head whips towards him.
A lot has changed since he'd last met Yū Hojo. A lot has changed, and yet, not nearly enough.
Hojo's eyes are cast in dark shadow, hiding the glint of malice. "Overhaul's counting on us to slow you down," he states, "We'll make sure to follow through with his orders."
Behind him, Aizawa's hair rises, eyes flashing red beneath his goggles. "You're outnumbered." Hojo's stance shifts. "Didn't say we had to beat you."
Izuku, admittedly, doesn't think when he decides to rush forward. Because they don't have time to waste here; because he won't let this man keep Eri from him again. Aizawa keeps his eyes on the villain and Izuku can see the moment Hojo registers his failing quirk.
Hojo takes a step back. "Tabe!"
The second villain: Tabe Soramitsu appears within a moment's notice, faster than Izuku expects, his mouth wide to intercept Izuku's staff where it's already in its downswing. Izuku shifts on his feet, pulling out of the attack, pivoting on his heel to dodge. He spins, a blur of black and green and steel, a burning star of anxiety and rage and cool intellect. He readies another attack.
Then he spots the gun held in Yū Hojo's hands. The sight of it surprises Izuku, he misses a beat, stance faltering, eyes widening. Time seems to slow to a crawl but even then there's nothing he can do to stop what's playing out before him. Because the gun pointed not at him, but Aizawa. Hojo's aim is a steady thing, the black of his eyes glittering with a calm pragmatism. And there's a sense of déjà vu in that moment for Izuku, of the USJ, of Aizawa in danger and just out of reach. He can feel it in the skip of his pounding heart, in the nauseating drop of his stomach. But things are different now, even if he feels like he's been sucked into the past. They're not alone here. It isn't Izuku and Aizawa against a looming beast.
This time things were in their favor.
A bang splits the air behind them, a bullet ripping through the space beside Izuku to slam into Hojo's gun-welding hand with a precision befitting only Snipe. There's a strangled grunt from the
villain, blood splattering against the concrete, weapon clattering against the floor.
Izuku wastes no more time, slamming his staff into Hojo's unguarded side without an ounce of hesitation; the villain's body jolts with the ensuing crackle of electricity.
Izuku isn't alone anymore. Reo had taught him that; Oboro had reiterated it; the people behind him had proven it.
Relying on others wasn't a sign of weakness here.
"They're sending kids to fight their battles, now?" Hojo pants with a grunt.
"When have you ever cared if your opponents were kids?" Izuku hisses, just loud enough for him to hear.
There's no reaction from the man. He doesn't recognize Izuku.
Tabe jumps for him again and Izuku's quickly pulled back by Aizawa's capture weapon.
"Don't wait for us!" Aizawa shouts to the others, aware that time was against them. Mere minutes could be the difference between rescuing Eri or losing her forever.
Aizawa's weapon pulls back into itself, unraveling from Izuku's waist as the boy rushes forward again. A blur of hardened steel catches the Tabe in the jaw with a resounding crack. The villain stumbles back, grabbing at his face before Aizawa's capture weapon takes him by surprise. With his arms pinned to his body, it's easy to knock him out with a quick, final hit from the hero's knee.
"We can't leave without you, Eraser!" Nighteye reminds him, but he's already beginning to usher some of their group through the door. Aizawa grunts, the hero's quirked glare returning to the remaining villain just in time to erase the crystals blooming across his skin. He couldn't leave the kid. He needed to leave. The kid didn't look like he had any plans on stopping. There's a barely suppressed growl in his throat. "Red," it's a warning. But by the time the name is out of his mouth, it's already over.
Yū Hojo is unconscious at the boy's feet.
It doesn't bring Izuku as much comfort as he thought it would.
Aizawa watches as he numbly pulls the man's hands behind his back, cuffing them together. "They should both be out for a while," Izuku informs him, "Let's go."
Aizawa sticks close to Izuku as they run, whether because of the stunt he'd pulled in the last room or because of a general sense of duty for his somehow-intern. Either way Izuku can tell he's regretting bringing Izuku somewhere as dangerous as this.
"He's slinking through the walls," Aizawa informs everyone as they go, "I managed to catch a glimpse of him retreating when we first fell, but it wasn't enough."
"Even if he's on quirk enhancers he's unlikely to have control over the entirety of the basement," Izuku mutters in response, "He let us get this far without any more obstacles. There's gotta be a limit to it."
Nighteye slows his pace, falling into step beside them. "Which means he's either looking for us, or
he's busy elsewhere."
Izuku's eyes flicker to the hero before returning to Aizawa. "You said you saw him retreating," Izuku puts out, "does that mean he has to expose himself to be able to see us? If that's the case then any time he's manipulating something around us that means his actual body must be nearby watching us."
Aizawa nods curtly, confirming Izuku's theory. And maybe it's because he still has his eyes set on the hero that he's the first to notice the abnormality of the wall beside them before it bursts to life. A living mass of concrete brakes from the wall, straight toward their clustered group.
There's no time for Izuku to save them all and Oboro's reminder sounds far off so far underground —so he does the only thing he can.
He trips Aizawa.
With a mindless sweep of his staff, he sends the hero into a painful collision course with the floor. And where the living pillar breezes safely over Aizawa's head, it catches Izuku and Nighteye, throwing them back into a hole yawning open on the wall opposite. Aizawa rolls over, capture weapon whipping out towards him, desperation hidden behind the slits of his goggles. " Red! "
It barely manages to brush Izuku's side before the wall closes and they're cast into darkness, severing the connection.
Oboro had told him to be selfish with his well-being, but Izuku has never been a selfish person. He was smart, calculative, and kind before all else. Perhaps that would be his ultimate downfall.