POV - MIDORIYA IZUKU
Izuku is tired.
You know, that kind of world-weary, bone-deep tired that lingers no matter how much you slept. Not that Izuku gets much sleep these days.
Actually, does being knocked unconscious count as sleeping?
It takes him a while to realize that he's somewhere dark and wet, the ever present ache in his hands twinging and pulling at his subconscious.
He's... floating.
When his eyes flutter open, Izuku can see that he's not actually floating.
He would've known if he was, anyways. Float had a very particular feeling when active, and he doesn't feel that now.
No, for some reason he's surrounded by murky water.
Luckily for Izuku, his tattered cloak has snagged on a low-hanging tree branch, keeping most of his body above water. That's nice, he doesn't really feel like drowning today. Or any other day, for that matter.
It's only then that he realizes something else.
He feels... calm.
For the first time in years, Danger Sense is completely, utterly silent.
There's no gnawing need to flee, no static coursing through his veins, no fluttering in his chest. Just... peaceful stillness.
Honestly, Izuku had stopped fully paying attention to the feeling after a while, that constant state of alarm only serving to amplify his already present anxiety. He's lucky that Aizawa-sensei eventually figured out what was happening, and that he'd taught Izuku how to remain calm and focus even when all he wanted to do was curl into a little ball and burst into tears.
It was difficult, and some days were better than others, but he managed.
And now... it's gone.
All he can feel is his normal amount of not-quirk-enhanced anxiety.
Izuku lets Float activate, a familiar lightness taking up residence in his chest and skull as he does so. The frigid water drips noisily off his small frame and back into the river below.
He lands on a sidewalk next to it with a wet thump.
There doesn't seem to be anyone nearby, and Danger Sense is still being eerily quiet. Because of that, Izuku takes his time removing his waterlogged clothes and wringing them out. Once they're just 'damp' instead of 'sopping wet', he redresses.
The first beginnings of sunlight are starting to peek over the tops of the nearby buildings now.
Izuku walks aimlessly, doing his best to remain unnoticed as more and more people flood the streets. For some reason, no one's giving him more than a passing glance.
And that's a good thing, really, it is! But it leaves Izuku feeling... on edge. The only thing keeping him calm is Danger Sense's lack of any warning.
Under still dripping bangs, he keeps an eye out for anyone that might look familiar.
An unknown teleportation quirk wasn't something to be taken lightly. It wasn't the most painful quirk in the world to be hit by, but it had certainly been electrifying. Kacchan's explosions were much more focused, and One for All's bone breaking habits were nothing to sneeze at, but that quirk...
Hopefully it was just a simple teleportation quirk.
Since he woke up alone and far from the battlefield, it's possible the others did, too. His missing classmates and teacher could be anywhere.
Was the end locations random, or planned in advance by their pursuers? Splitting their group up was certainly effective as far as attack strategies go, but Izuku would have expected to be attacked again by now, or at the very least taken down while he had been unconscious.
So, where are the villains?
A flash of dark green hair catches Izuku's wandering attention, and his body stops moving all by itself.
There, right across the street, was his mother.
He still remember the last time he'd seen he alive, pinned under unstable rubble and screaming, pleading with him to 'Run, save yourself!'
Izuku didn't listen, of course he didn't, scrabbling at the loose bits of what used to be their home until his fingers were bloody and broken. He'd forgotten, in his panic, that he could use One for All to save her.
In the end it hadn't mattered. Midoriya Inko, his mother, was just too badly injured, and the wreckage too unstable.
He'd crushed her in his haste to do something, anything. Anything but run away.
The heavy metal beams and bricks shifted until she was gone.
Yet somehow, against all reason, there she was.
Alive.
He thinks she looks nervous, briefcase clutched tight against her side and expression fretful.
Inko hasn't noticed him yet, and a small, broken part of Izuku wants to reach out and wrap her up in a hug. To make sure no one could ever hurt her again.
But instead, he just stays stock-still and tries to take in as many details about her as he can. He drinks it all in; how her suit looks slightly wrinkled as if she hadn't had a chance to iron it, the flyaway hairs escaping her bun, the way her free hand clutches at her shirt just for something to hold onto.
He watches until she's disappeared around a corner, and even then he continues to stare at the last spot she'd been for several minutes.
No one bothers him, they all simply walk around where he's standing in the middle of the sidewalk with no more than a sideways glance. Annoyed at him for being in the way, maybe, but not a threat.
Then, for the first time since he woke up here, Danger Sense gives a little 'ping' in the back of Izuku's mind.
It's so different from what he's used to when dealing with this quirk that he almost doesn't realize that anything happened at all. But he does, because Izuku is hyper-focused on any chance of attack.
He takes a tentative step to the side, and Danger Sense pings again, almost politely. 'Small threats approaching from behind' it tells him.
...Small threats? Izuku can't help but think.
"Oi, it's Deku!"
Ah.
Izuku turns around slowly, and is met with the sight of his old childhood bullies.
They're dressed in simple school uniforms, as if everything was normal and they were simply on their way to school.
Though... considering Izuku just saw his mother alive and well earlier, that most likely is the case. For them, at least. The idea is so odd to Izuku, though. Kids don't just walk to school anymore, it's much too dangerous. Or, it would be dangerous, if schools still existed.
So lost in his thought, Izuku almost doesn't notice when the two boys stop walking right in front of him.
"Still doing that creepy mumbling thing of yours, eh, Deku?" one taunts, the one with wings, and it gets a laugh out of the other boy. His quirk was the ability to elongate his fingers, Izuku remembers.
But he doesn't remember their names.
Just as he thinks that, Fingers activates his quirk to jab Izuku in the chest with one finger. "And what's with the dumb costume?" he asks. "Did you think throwing together some rags would magically trick the heroes into letting a quirkless loser like you into UA?"
Izuku's not actually sure how to respond, so he just blinks and stares in silence while his two former bullies guffaw at their own lackluster taunts. Slowly but surely, the laughter becomes more uncomfortable as Izuku doesn't react.
He knows they're not going to hurt him, not out in broad daylight like this.
Did he really used to be afraid of these two? He thinks. Then, another thought; I don't have to deal with this.
Turning on his heel, Izuku starts walking away only for Danger Sense to flare again. 'He's going to grab your shoulder' it pings, more insistent than before.
Black Whip surges in Izuku's veins, phantom rage stirring and bubbling deep in his gut, begging to be called upon. Harshly, Izuku shoves the feeling back down. They're just civilian teenagers, he's not going to fight them with a quirk.
No, he'll fight back with his fists.
These two, along with Kacchan and many others, had relentlessly bullied Izuku for years. He has the scars to prove it. Surely they had to have known he would fight back eventually, right?
He'll just push back a little so they leave him alone, otherwise they'll keep following him.
Yeah, just a little bit. Just enough to scare them off.
Just before the other boy can grab him, Izuku whirls around and slams his fist into Finger's face. Despite not even using an ounce of One for All, a sickening crack lets him know that he's most likely just broken the boy's nose.
Oops.
Izuku watches apathetically as Fingers collapses to the ground with a wail, clutching his bleeding nose.
At the sight of his friend getting hurt, Wings screams in rage and charges at Izuku.
He sighs, and sidesteps Wings while sticking his foot out to trip him. It sends the larger boy sprawling, and when Wings tries to catch himself on his hands, he somehow manages to break his own arm with a snap.
Now both of them are laying on the pavement, screaming their heads off and sobbing uncontrollably.
Double oops.
This is just his luck, isn't it?
With a grimace, Izuku tries to shuffle away from the scene without being noticed. The noise is starting to attract a lot of attention...
"Hey, what's going on over here?!" A voice booms.
It's quickly revealed to be the pro-hero Death Arms, who jogs up to hover over the three high schoolers.
Huh. So he's alive again as well?
Before Izuku gets a chance to say anything, to maybe explain that these idiots hurt themselves, Wings point with his unbroken arm at him and wails, "H-he attacked us unprovoked!"
Izuku winces. With how loud that was, it's likely everybody within a mile radius heard the 'confession'. Death Arms turns to look at the apparent attacker, narrowed eyes sizing Izuku up. Uh oh, that looks like recognition.
Danger Sense suddenly screams in Izuku's ears; 'HE'S GOING TO GRAB YOU, RUN AWAY!'
Not taking any chances, Izuku immediately activates Float and kicks off from the ground without a second to spare, as Death Arms had burst forward in order to catch him by surprise. It's Izuku who caught all of them by surprise though, if their reactions to 'quirkless little Deku' not being as quirkless as they thought was any indication.
Izuku lands on a rooftop and takes off, moving faster than humanly possible under Danger Sense is quiet once more.
This is going to be a difficult situation to explain to Aizawa-sensei...
POV - URARAKA OCHAKO
The first thing Ochako does upon waking is throw up.
Or, she would have, if there'd been anything in her stomach worth bringing up. So here she is, curled on her side while she dry heaves.
The second thing Ochako does upon waking up is wish that she didn't, because as soon as she's stopped gagging every other second does the pain finally kick in. It feels like someone's used her head as a volley ball, and the sharp, intense pain behind her eyes is almost enough to have her dry heaving again.
All in all, it sucks. Zero out of ten stars. Would not recommend.
Only once the pain's faded to a more manageable level does Ochako dare to open her eyes.
She's greeted by a clear night sky, a few smattering of clouds here and there. She thinks she can see the first signs of dawn staining the horizon pink, but only just.
As slowly as she can manage, Ochako sits up.
She's... on a rooftop?
Yup, this is for sure a rooftop. Somehow, after getting hit by that random quirk and passing out, Ochako's ended up on top of a skyscraper.
Because yeah, sure, why not?
With a shrug, she takes a peek over the edge of the railing to see just how high up she is. The answer is 'very high up'. As in, at least twenty stories worth of building sitting innocently beneath her.
Other than her, the rooftop is totally deserted. A quick glance at the neighboring rooftops reveals much the same.
She's alone.
Where are her friends? And what about Aizawa-sensei, she'd seen him take the brunt of that painful looking attack. Was he laying somewhere, alone and injured?
Ochako wants to start searching for her missing—family members—friends as soon as possible, but she gives herself a minute longer to recover.
She's still feeling kind of nauseous, so Ochako takes a minute to stare towards the horizon and breathe, her feet firmly planted on the ground. Getting sick in the middle of a fight is dangerous, and she's had way too many close calls over the past few years.
Aizawa-sensei's given her plenty of helpful tips. Apparently Erasure, in addition to all the flipping around he does with his capture weapon. used to make him nauseous as well. Something about straining his eyes too much.
Whatever his reasoning, Ochako's grateful for the advice.
As soon as she's feeling well enough, she uses Zero Gravity on herself and hops over the short railing to the ground below.
It's a good thing not many people were awake at such an odd hour, or else they'd have been more than a little horrified to see a random girl dressed in all gray and black jumping off the roof of a twenty story building.
"Release..." Ochako mumbles once she's reached the safety of the ground.
She's braced and ready for a surprise attack, but when nothing happens she allows herself a small sigh of relief.
Looking around, Ochako is momentarily stunned by just how... normal this street looks.
There's a handful of windows with light shining through, and not a single broken pane in sight. The sidewalk is clear of debris—save for a few bits and pieces of everyday garbage—with streetlights glowing cheerfully in the fading darkness. She can't even smell the usually ever present scent of death that hung heavy in the air; bodies left to rot in the streets, no one left to bury them.
Such calm scenery should be comforting, but all Ochako can feel is dread.
Maybe... maybe this part of the city hadn't been attacked? But wouldn't they have heard of such a safe haven by now, if it existed? Where are the nomu?
Where the fuck are the nomu?
Ochako's breath hitches, but she keeps her body language outwardly relaxed.
Okay, no need to panic. Aizawa-sensei will know what to do. She just has to find him, and then everything will be okay again. He always knows what to do.
Picking a random direction, she starts walking.
Knowing her Aizawa-sensei, he's probably hiding in the shadows somewhere... the back alleys? It was a good enough place to start her search. She can feel the bit of anxiety that's been gnawing away at her stomach settle at the thought. Keeping herself busy always seemed to help with that. Just look for Aizawa-sensei and her classmates, that's all she needs to do.
As she goes, Ochako picks up a few things at random; anything that catches her eye. Things like a decently sized rock, a sharp bit of metal, and unbroken glass bottle... just small things, really.
She places them all in the pockets of her oversized hoodie.
'Anything can be used as a weapon in a pinch. Be resourceful.' Aizawa-sensei said once, and he's right. Villains aren't gonna play fair in a fight, so why should she? Ochako doesn't care who you are, no one's immune to having a glass bottle hurled at Mach-speeds into their face.
And she would know, she's tested that theory on more than one occasion.
Sadly, all the alleys she searches end up being sensei-free. Though at one point she thought she'd found him, only to realize it was an actual homeless guy that just so happened to look like Aizawa.
Wait. Isn't Aizawa-sensei technically homeless?
...Is she homeless?
Huh. She is.
Oh well. 'Home is where the heart is' and all that. So long as she has her remaining friends and pseudo-dad with her, she'll be fine.
Ochako doesn't need a bit fancy house—not that she ever had that, even before all this—but it would be nice to see her parents again... and to sleep in an actual bed.
She misses her mom and dad.
Even as the sun rises and more and more people start moving about, Ochako keeps searching. It's easy enough, she knows how to remain unnoticed in a crowd.
Eventually, she finds herself somewhere eerily familiar...
A train station.
It looks so shiny and new, and she finds herself just staring at it in awe. The only thing that manages to startle her out of it is the sound of a voice—her voice.
Head snapping towards the sound, Ochako watches in detached horror as a girl that looks exactly like her skips towards the train with a hand waving in the air. The other Ochako's wearing a clean UA uniform, her old backpack slung over one shoulder.
Ochako remembers this. She was almost too late to catch the train, and she was so relieved when she'd made it in time.
As the train pulls away from the station along with the other Ochako, she comes to the sobering realization that Aizawa-sensei might not know what to do after all.
POV - BAKUGOU KATSUKI
The second he wakes up in an unfamiliar location, raging headache pounding between his useless ears, Katsuki is pissed the fuck off.
He's usually angry all the time anyways, but today is a new level of white hot blistering rage unlike the world has ever seen. The old Katsuki would've started up spewing profanities, explosions popping up everywhere like they were going out of style.
But explosions are loud and noticeable; the perfect quirk for limelight heroics.
Not so great for staying hidden.
The day he'd accidentally given away their location to the enemy would forever haunt Katsuki.
He can still feel the phantom sensation of blood on his skin, sticky and warm as it splattered across his face. Kirishima hadn't stood a chance in hell against that nomu, and Katsuki's explosions didn't do a damn thing to slow it down, either.
In the end, he'd had to be dragged away from the smear that used to be his friend, kicking and screaming the whole way until he was silenced by that damned stiff cloth.
And even then he didn't stop, not until the noise had already attracted more nomu.
The only reason Katsuki got to keep his worthless life is because of Dek—because of Zuku, who'd managed to fend off the monsters long enough for everyone still alive to escape. Stupid, weak, pathetic tears falling endless to the stained pavement below.
Katsuki was silent for weeks.
Anger management lessons from Aizawa had become mandatory after that.
So, Katsuki takes a slow breath in and holds it. He counts to five in his head... and breathes out.
And then, quietly but with feeling, mutters one word; "Fuck."
He's in a park, the damp grass soaking his clothes as Katsuki wobbles to his feet. He takes his surroundings in with a piercing gaze; healthy looking trees, buildings in the distance, tinny birdsong in the air.
There's an oddly familiar looking playground sitting nearby.
The sight of it itches at something in the back of his mind, but there's no immediate danger, so he ignores the feeling for now.
With uncharacteristically careful hands, Katsuki fiddles with his yellow and black hearing aids to make sure they're not damaged. He'd broken his own red set months ago, and the only reason he's able to hear anything at all now is because Aizawa took pity on him.
These are Present Mic's old hearing aids, after all.
Regardless of the circumstances, he takes much better care of this set. Aizawa would probably kill him for real if he didn't.
The Voice Hero may not need them anymore now that he's... now that he's dead, but Katsuki does. He would be useless to the others if he didn't have them—if he hadn't been allowed to have them.
He tries not to think about it too much, something uncomfortable bursting to life in his chest at the thought.
Katsuki definitely doesn't think about the reluctance that'd been clear on Aizawa's face on that fateful day he handed the small devices over.
It was a lucky break for him that Present Mic was also hard of hearing; many people with loud quirks were unless their bodies had mutated to avoid it. But, those who were? They weren't exactly willing to share.
It's not like there's a whole lot of support departments left up and running that could build hearing aids capable of withstanding battle.
Hatsume doesn't count, and other than her making sure this set fit him, the day he lets her near anything he puts in his ears is the day he dies. She'd probably do something weird to them.
Look, he's perfectly willing to provide her with however many explosions she wants, just not at the expense of his already limited hearing.
Yeah. No fucking thanks.
Anyways.
The sky is dark, and there's no people visible in his immediate vicinity.
Good, that's good. Honestly, with how wound up he is right now it'd be hard not to blast the nearest people into the stratosphere at even the slightest hint of a threat.
The openness of the area is, frankly... disconcerting, leaving Katsuki feeling off-balance and twitchy.
He's careful to make as little noise as possible, and he makes his way towards the closest of the buildings. How lucky for him, that the bullshit quirk has sent him somewhere decently livable. The buildings look clean as he approaches, no sign of damage or rot anywhere.
Katsuki can't even remember the last time he'd seen light on in the window of any building, let alone this many. Just what the fuck is going on here?
The alley he finds himself in is... less clean, but still not horrendous. There aren't even any dead bodies.
He's once again grateful for the survival lessons Aizawa forced on all his students as he pulls a small metal pot out of his bag. It only takes a few minutes for Katsuki to gather what he needs, and soon there's a little campfire burning away at his feet.
The meager bit of pride that still hasn't been stomped out rages at the fact that Katsuki didn't use his quirk at all, having instead decided to painstakingly start the fire by hand.
Aizawa's words echo in his mind while his fingers twitch.
'Your quirks are just tools. Don't rely on them if you don't have to.'
Whatever. Katsuki can make a fire without exploding the kindling.
His little pot is full now, having been placed under a steady trickle of water that wept from a conveniently—for him—broken pipe.
The urge to kick over the nearest trash can he finds is strong, but Katsuki only sighs and gently places it on its side so he can sit on the cold metal next to the fire. The water will boil eventually, and only then will it be safe to drink.
After it's cooled down, obviously.
'Contaminated water will kill you just as surely as any villain.' Aizawa had explained.
Katsuki knows that patience is a virtue, and it's one that he hates with every fiber of his being. So much hate. And yet, he sits perfectly motionless and waits for the water to boil.
He waits after that too, carefully moving the pot to the side to cool before he stomps out the fire so it wouldn't get him noticed. Only once the water's cooled down enough does Katsuki take his first sip. It's still warm, and it tastes a bit like old pennies, but that's alright.
Katsuki lets himself enjoy the quiet moment, slowly sipping at the water until it's all gone. He can almost imagine that it's a cup of tea.
A very, very shitty cup of tea.
Whoever made this shit-ass tea was gonna be getting a stern review from him, he can tell you that.
His stomach is full now though, so Katsuki places the empty pot back into his bag and stands, cracking his back with a grunt.
Sitting around doing nothing is dumb. Someone has to make sure his classmates don't go and get themselves killed, and that might as well be him. He's willing to bet at least one of them—Zuku—has already gotten into trouble.
The sun rose a while ago, and if Katsuki had to guess, he'd say that it's probably around five in the morning. Maybe six.
There's a few people walking down the streets that he can see, carrying bags and briefcases, and walking right past Katsuki with hurried strides like they don't even know he's here.
Suspicious as fuck.
Pulling the hood of his jacket up, Katsuki hunches his shoulders and dips out of the alley. Maybe if he's by himself and not with the others, he won't be recognized?
Still, it feels like every person he passes is watching him, judging eyes seeing right through his crumbling resolve to remain calm.
He wants to snap his teeth at them and make them fuck off.
Whatever, it's fine. He can do this.
He's Bakugou-fucking-Katsuki, a hero, for fuck's sake!
There's absolutely nothing to worry about—
Someone bumps into Katsuki's shoulder.
Immediately, his whole body goes stock-still, breath stuttering to a stop. Katsuki waits for the inevitable attack, hands clenching into—he's not shaking, he's not—tight fists at his sides.
When no attack comes, he realizes that someone is apologizing... to him?
Taking a risk, Katsuki looks to the side to see—green.
Green hair, green eyes, a boy who's much too smart for his own good, much too kind—
"...Zuku?" Katsuki murmurs, staring down—when did he get so short?—in shock.
The boy in question stops stammering apologies at his shoes, head snapping up to stare back at Katsuki with terror filled eyes. "K-Kacchan!" he says.
Katsuki feels his eyes narrow in confusion, which only causes the mini-Midoriya to start spouting apologies at him instead of those bright red sneakers he'd always insisted on wearing.
Now, there's a lot of things that Katsuki is, but unobservant isn't one of them.
Somehow, this tiny look-a-like both is and isn't the Midoriya he knows and tolerates.
He takes in as many details as he can; the lack of scars on the other boy's hands, the sparkle of life still present in his eyes... Shit, his Izuku hasn't been genuinely afraid of him in so long that it's almost laughable to see the boy shaking like a goddamn leaf.
...But this isn't a laughable situation.
No, something is deeply, terribly wrong here.
"Stop that."
Izuku startles again, bringing his hands up to wave wildly about. "S-sorry, Kacchan! I'm so—"
"No, stop apologizing. You're better than that." Katsuki sighs. He knows this is his own fault for being such an insufferable jerk for so long, but...
He still has so much to make up for when it comes to Izuku.
Fuck, is he really gonna have to be nice? Katsuki can't help but think. Disgusting.
And now the mini-Izuku is just blinking in confusion, before he seems to snap out of it and starts looking at Katsuki closer, like he might find something by doing that.
Katsuki can only imagine what sort of genius level analysis is being thought up in there. Midoriya's always been too smart for his own good.
He scoffs, and pulls a hand out of his pocket to ruffle the mini-zuku's curls. It's hard not to laugh at the way Izuku goes perfectly still, eyes open comically wide as he gapes at Katsuki. Heh.
"Seriously, you're so fucking smart it's scary," Katsuki mutters, and stuffs both hands back into his pockets. "Aren't you gonna be a hero? Stop worrying about what those fucking extras think and just do it."
If this really is Deku's past self or whatever, then encouraging him is the least Katsuki can do after his years of tormenting the kid.
Then, rather predictably really, mini-Midoriya bursts into tears and starts hugging him.
Katsuki stiffens up, but he allows the contact for a few seconds before he shifts to pat the shorter boy's back in what he hopes is a comforting manner. Sue him, he's still not good at the whole 'emotions other than anger' thing.
And after what feels like an eternity, Izuku stops crying and lets him go.
Now that he's looking, Katsuki notices the sweaty workout clothes this Izuku has on.
"The hell're you wearing, huh?" he asks.
Izuku looks confused again. But then he brightens right back up as if nothing happened. "I was g-going for my morning ru-run," he mumbles happily. "It's still pr-pretty early, and I have to go home to change, but...
"W-wanna walk to school together, Kacchan?"
"Er..." Katsuki hesitates. If he runs into his own past self, it's not gonna end well for anyone involved. So, he deflects. "Sorry, got shit to do. Y'know how it is."
He tries to ignore the look of disappointment on Izuku's face.
"What're you frowning about? I'll be there!"
It's then that Katsuki has a brilliant idea. If his dumbass past self is gonna act like a bitch, why not make him pay for it?
"Anyways!" Katsuki grins, showing off more teeth than strictly necessary. "If I ever act like a total ass to you again, feel free to kick my ass! Got it?"
Mini-Midoriya looks taken aback at the blunt offer, face turning a shocking shade of red as he starts flailing around once again. "K-K-Kacchan! I could never—why w-would you even—I can't...!"
Katsuki cuts him off with a loud laugh, something that he hasn't done in so long that the sound feels unnatural.
"Of fucking course you can!" he says. "You're strong, 'zuku. You'll make an amazing hero."
The little Izuku's crying again, but Katsuki feels content with his good deed.
There's absolutely no way this can go wrong.
POV - YAOYOROZU MOMO
Hungry. Momo is so hungry.
She's always hungry these days, and the feeling never seems to go away.
That never ending, clawing, biting hunger. At times so intense it was all she could do to just stay still and hope the feeling went away on its own.
It never did, only eased enough so she could move again without passing out, but she could hope.
Aizawa-sensei tries so hard to find enough food for everyone, even going so far as to take less for himself, but it wasn't enough. She tries to pretend it is, though. Momo only takes her fair share. Even when she's offered more she always tries to refuse, she doesn't want to be a bother. She doesn't want to be selfish. Her classmates are hungry too, it's not just her, but...
The hunger remains.
Her quirk feels more and more like a curse with every day that passes. Just the thought alone of using it makes her feel physically ill.
Memories of being able to create a fully functioning cannon without breaking a sweat taunt her.
How could she have been so wasteful?
Grumbling sleepily, Momo rolls over and tried to fall back to sleep, ignoring the gnawing sensation of her stomach doing its best to eat itself. Sometimes the hunger went away long enough for her to get some rest.
After several sleepless minutes though, she has to admit defeat.
When Momo pries her eyes open, she's expecting to see the familiar shapes of her classmates sleeping nearby. Instead, there's only empty space.
"Huh...?" Momo frowns, rubbing at her eyes as she looks again.
She's in what looks to be an abandoned office building. A thick layer of dust coats everything within sight, all of it completely undisturbed. There's isn't a single footstep visible in the room.
Ignoring the vertigo that claws its way into her skull at the slightest of movements, Momo pushes herself up onto shaky feet and blinks.
How did she get here...?
Memories flood back in an instant, nearly knocking Momo right off of her feet.
Running, cornered, pain—
She's alone.
But how is that possible?
The lack of footsteps around her means she hadn't just been abandoned here, but it's still rather odd. The only thing Momo can think of that may have caused this is if she'd just... appeared in the room out of thin air.
A teleportation quirk, then. That has to be it.
Being careful to disturb as little dust as possible, Momo tiptoes towards what appears to be the exit.
But in the moment before her hand touches the doorknob, a spike of panic flares in her belly. What if the door doesn't open? Will she be trapped in this room forever? Would anyone find her body? What if, what if, what if—
The door opens with little more than a squeak.
...Oh. Okay then.
Momo lets out a shaky breath of relief, panic abating once more.
There's no one else in the building as far as she can tell, but one could never be too careful.
Sticking close to the wall, Momo feels her hand twitch towards one of the knives hidden in her pants pocket. Every shadow seems to stretch onwards forever, looming over her with gnarled fingers that reach to take, to steal. Selfish.
But she's selfish too, and they won't take anything from her.
Momo keeps her spine ramrod straight, resisting the urge to hunch forward and claw her way out of this damned building.
She thinks Midnight-sensei would be proud of how she's holding herself.
The front door to the building is locked from the inside. Momo doesn't even have to dig out her lockpicking kit, only has to unlatch the bolt before she's walking out into the fresh spring air.
She doesn't look back.
There's still no sign of her classmates, or Aizawa-sensei, or... anyone.
Momo finds herself standing on a normal sidewalk, mesmerizes by just how clean everything looks. It's obvious that this area wasn't very busy, but the buildings stand tall and proud. She can see unstained paint on the buildings, cherry blossom trees dotting the street, freshly printed fliers stapled to the light posts...
It's like a scene straight out of a movie.
For a single moment, Momo feels like a normal teenage girl again. The early morning sun casts a gentle glow across the spotless windows.
It's beautiful, glorious.
Just as suddenly as the feeling had come, it crashes down at her feet.
It crashes with the sound of a voice calling her name, high and nasally. Momo swears she feels her heart stop beating, her entire body breaking out into a cold sweat.
Mineta Minoru.
But Mineta is dead. She'd made sure of it the last time they'd crossed paths. After what he'd done to her, done to her family... No.
Momo turns towards the voice with a scarily calm expression despite the scream lodged in her throat.
'Don't let them see your fear.' Aizawa-sensei's voice whispers in her ear, soft yet firm. Reassuring.
Momo feels her body relax almost mechanically.
She watches as Mineta bounds up to her side, his eyes wide and innocent. There's something sinister that lurked behind them, though. He looks just like he did before. Before everything.
The clean UA uniform he's wearing mocks her.
A feeling, dark and ugly, curls in Momo's gut as memories continue to assault her subconscious.
Betrayal, confinement, terror, pain painPAIN—
He's saying something, not so subtly eyeing her up with a perverted grin. She honestly doesn't know what he's thinking, considering Momo is currently wearing her favorite—and only—baggy turtleneck, leaving no skin exposed.
She isn't that naïve teenager anymore.
'Channel that fear. Make them afraid of you.'
With a feral grin that would make her sensei proud, Momo looks directly into Mineta's slowly widening eyes.
The knife in her hand glints in the sunlight, and Momo's grin grows ever wider.
"If you ever harass me again, or any other girl for that matter, I'll gut you like the pig you are and leave your body for the nomus," she whispers in a sickly sweet voice. "Do I make myself clear?"
Even if it's the last thing she ever does, Momo will make sure Mineta doesn't ever hurt another person like he did to her.