Fear. It gripped Midoriya's chest like a vice, jackhammered against his ribcage and chased every shallow breath that fell from his lips. It clung to his limbs, froze in his joints, kept him fixed in place. Stuck.

Frozen.

Another growl rumbled through the open air, and the monster lurched closer, firelight licking up its thick forearms, chest, face, revealing taught skin stretched over thick muscles, the pale color appearing nearly orange in the light. Its mouth was smaller, rounder, than the one before, flashes of fangs glittering from behind its fleshy lips that gleamed with drool that bespeckled them. Death pervaded the air with its sickly perfume, clogging Midoriya's nostrils and making his eyes water, whole body twitching with an innate need to gag. But he daren't move— he stayed stock still. Eyes wide, body trembling. Hoping that maybe by some miracle, if he didn't move, the walking nightmare towering over him wouldn't see him.

But miracles didn't work on the damned.

Four bulbous eyes turned in their sockets until they were all trained on Midoriya. A beat. A moment. A breath.

The monster lunged.

A snarl tore through the air, ripping across Midoriya's eardrums just as a thickly muscled forearm shot out, a gnarled, taloned hand lunging right for him.

"Deku-kun!"

Hands roughly grabbed at his shoulder, yanking him back. Uraraka's staff flew across his line of sight, producing a blast of condensed air that slammed right into the beast's chest, throwing it backwards. What could only be described as a garbled shriek shattered in the air. The monster crashed into the ground, limbs flailing in the shadows. Uraraka skid in front of him, staff gripped in both hands and pointed towards the darkness. "Run!" she cried over her shoulder. Midoriya blanched.

Run? He...he couldn't just leave her! But his limbs were locked, frozen.

A dark shadow reared up, snarls ringing through the clearing. The monster's eyes glowed, bright and hateful, and it lunged again.

Uraraka swung her staff, another sharp blast of air slamming into the beast. It roared, stumbled, and the ground shook.

"Run, Deku!"

Her scream slapped him like a bolt of cold air. He scrambled, boots digging into the earth, and clawed his way to his feet, stumbling off into the darkness. Terror chased him like a shadow as Midoriya jogged towards the river, nothing but moonlight and the sound of water as his guide. A roar echoed through the gully, and Midoriya's heart leaped to his throat. He skid to a stop, whirling around. The firelight of their camp flickered wildly, whipped about by the wind that whistled through the trees. Midoriya's heart twisted in his chest. He was running. Again. Like a coward.

What if Uraraka got hurt?

Unbidden, that day back in the city arose in his mind, the way he huddled behind the discarded lumber, helpless, while Saisei collapsed. He could see the whites of his eyes as they rolled back into his head, the way his body went limp in Giran's waiting arms. Then, Bakugou, slime and sludge swallowing him whole, eyes burning with fear and despair...

Midoriya's hands curled into fists at his sides. No. Not again.

Never again.

He bolted. Back to the camp.

Back to the monster.

Sparks scattered into the sky to the beat of the thuds of the monster slamming into the ground. Winds tore at Midoriya's cloak, hair. And amidst the chaos, bathed in moonlight, stood Uraraka, shoulders set and cloak snapping in the wind that swirled around her, from her. The gem on the end of her staff glowed, casting pink light on her face, eyes, backlighting the grit and determination set there. Awe struck him straight in the heart, and he paused, gasp falling from his lips. The monster reared back, muscled arm streaked with dirt, claws flashing white.

Midoriya moved.

He swiped something from the ground—a stick, intended for the fire— and raced forward, heart pounding in his ears. A scream tore from his throat, and he pushed in front of Uraraka, swinging with all his might. A resounding crack echoed in the night, and the stick splintered into pieces in his hands, slicing his palms.

Everything stopped. Midoriya's chest heaved, eyes wide as he stared at the hulking, muscled chest of the monster, its skin glowing with sweat and grime. He blinked. It...didn't even leave a scratch. He clenched his stinging hands stumbling back and then—

Pain. He heard a scream and then he was flying, the world was careening, blurring, and then he hit the ground and everything went black.

.

..

...

Silence.

Midoriya stirred, head pounding, body aching. He blinked, greeted with nothing but an expanse of darkness. Am I...dead? But the feel of his hands stinging as they pressed into the dirt was too vivid, too real. He shifted, eyes squeezing shut at the onslaught of dizziness that nearly overwhelmed him. The ground trembled, just barely, beneath him, and he could hear a roar. But it was muted. Distant. Midoriya sucked in a breath. And another. Okay.

Okay. He was okay.

He wiggled his toes, fingers, assessing. His limbs were okay. Nothing hurt too much, anyway. Midoriya shifted again, sitting back on his legs. And oh . A grimace twisted onto his features and he hunched, gripping at his sides tightly. His back was on fire.

With a trembling hand, he reached over his shoulder and grazed his back, breath hitching when he felt something warm and wet. He drew his hand back, but the darkness was too thick to see anything but its shape.

Midoriya swallowed a lump forming in his throat. He risked a glance over his shoulder, gaze locking onto the light spilling into the space. His brow furrowed. Where...where was he? In a cave? He didn't remember there being a cave when they set up camp…

"̞͍̺̓̈̾m̖͙̰̳͊̑̂̍i̧͐ḍ̬̟̯̙͐̀̀͆̚o̭͎͎̊̽͝ṛ̲̑̈́i̘̯͎̅͘͠y̧̟͙̥̯͗̋̒̕͠a̧̾ ̟̞͖̉͘͝ḯ̛͉̱̳z̳̱̍̄͊͜ų͆̕ͅk̬͈͙̊̕͞u͔̔̕͜."̞̠͉͋͛͡

He froze.

Voices.

They curled in his head, echoing as though he stood in a wide cavern, layering over each other in an unrecognizable garble. Unified, but separate. Goosebumps erupted across his skin. He turned, slow, cautious, gazing into the dark. Nothing was there.

"͖̦̮͇͊̄̑̕͡ͅm̞̜̺̰̖̉̄̔̉́i̬͔͖̮̮͒̏͒̊͛d͈͎́̇ơ̡̨̛̤̈̄͟r̤͕̥͒̚͡i̪͂y̭̬͊̎ã͚̤͇̑̎ ̝̅i̥̖͉̙̍̔͗͂ż͖͉͌̑ͅu̢̠͊̾k̺̣͚͙̆͋͝u̧̙̐̄̇̏̐͟͜͜.̟͗"̫͗̊͟

Again. His heart lodged in his throat. "He-hello?" he croaked out.

Nothing. Midoriya curled in on himself, trembling. It was fine. He was fine. Nothing was there, he was alone. Alone, here...away from Uraraka… His eyes went wide, and he bolted upright. Uraraka! She was alone with that...that monster! He had to do something, he had to help her. He pushed himself to his feet, staggering, vision blurring and legs buckling. His whole body jolted when his knees slammed back into the dirt, and Midoriya gasped, clutching at the dirt for dear life because everything was spinning and spinning around him. He grit his teeth, blinking away tears. He had to get up.

He had to get to Uraraka.

He had to help her.

Focus.

Midoriya rose, wobbly and unsteady, but on his feet he remained.

"͍̯̒͊h̦͇̭͖̒̈́̎̈́ë̝̭̀̓͟ ̮̺̐͞s̱͚̟̆̿̽̃͜t͓̳͊͞a͚̬̙͊́̏͟͞n͙̯̂͡d̰̙͈̈́̐̌͜͠ś͚͉̲̹̐͐̚,̮͝ ̠̻̑̚h͝ͅe̡̅̊͢ ̡͆ẁ̼͓͔̣̬̔͒a̞̺̫̬̻͆̓̊̍n̬͔̬̼̍͛̉̌t̰͉̩́̀̀s̩̯̿̐ t̞͍͐͌̈́͢o͕̝͌͒ ̻̘̥̆̊̚sa̡͌v̧̯̬͊̽͡e̡͒̎͟ ̢̮̎̍h̥̥̞̝̐͂͠͠er̬̣̊̔.̪̀͗ͅ"̣͛ ͉͕͒̔͒͟

He jumped, skin prickling. "Wh-who's there?"

"̙̘́͘i̡̔̒̕͜͜ṯ͐̈ͅ'̦̍s͍̻͉̑͑̈̔͟ ̨̘̝̏̈̈́͠ͅb̬̹̲̊̿̔e̘͓͑͝e̪̚n͍̣͆́͑ͅ ̧͡s̞̟̏̇͟͝o ͒ͅlo͗ͅn̰̬͌́̕͟g̠̹̓͂͘͟..͍͕͔̔̊͠.̪̈t͇̰̯̃̇̎ò͍̼̹̃̆o̬̫̠̔͠ ͈̑͜͝ḽ̽onĝ̡̡̬͌̀͂͟.͈̼̏̂.̗͊.̪̞̝͂̃̒"

Midoriya's breath hitched. His whole body buzzed, like there was something crawling under his skin. He stumbled, twisting in a circle, gaze darting about, looking, searching. But the darkness remained, thick and unyielding.

"̙̬̞̌̇̈́͠ͅc̝͍̠̈́͋̀o̠̣̒̈͘ͅul̢͇̈͢͝͞d ̝̗̌́h̤̫͔̜̦̄̓͊̂̒e ̧̡͍̭͂̉̋́b͍̖̐̀ȩ͍͚́̽̕͟ t͚͓͂̆̈́̔͜͢h̛̟͇̙͖̠̐̌̓͠ȩ͎͗̽ ̭̆ǫ̛̥̻̼̽̏͢͠ṇ͌͘͟e̤̾?̳̠̀̉ ͔̯̝͓̃̌̊͐͟͝h̛͉͔͎͉̔̽̐ȩ̙̘̯͋͐̇ ͖͎̱͇͊̏͐͡c̨̨͆͠ou̙̖͓̼̮̓͐͆̄̽l̞̳̘͍̉͛̔̈́͟d̛̤̣̰̒͒ ̰̻͋̍b̹̀e͓̹͛͗ ͈̱̃́̑͟t̢͉̀͘h̟͉̻̳͂̀̅̏ȩ̤̅̚ ơ̖̱̲̿͗͢͞n͎̙̟̝̄͘e̫̾.͈͍͔̽͆ t̜̼̲͍̻̀͌̈͡ḥ̥͉̼̇͆͑̋ę̳̞̮͐̓͘͘͟͞ ̤̆͜͠o͎̅n̝̿e͕̭̭͂̏͂, ̝̠͉͌̋͊ţ̣̞̹̓̈̕͡hḛ̡͉͌̉̒ ͔͕̝͎̍̓͘͠ȏ͔̗̫͗̕ne̡̱͔̰͍͂͂͘̕͠.̧̛̙̿͒͟"͓͉͚̦͛͐̕͞ ̜̤̦̐͌̍

The voices splintered, fracturing into fragments of distinct voices, before melting back together in a confused cacophony. Midoriya reached up, clutching at his hair. This wasn't real. It wasn't. He was hearing things— he'd hit his head. This wasn't real, there was no one there .

And yet.

Midoriya blinked, brows knitting. Light. There was light in front of him. Light that wasn't there before. He threw a glance over his shoulder, breath hitching when the cave entrance glowed in his line of sight.

Where had the light come from?

"̃ͅp̥̻͗́ow̡̤̮͐̄͡e̙̣͛̿r͇͈̟̓̓́ ̪̮̤͚̽͆̂̓i̘̦̖̥̓̌̽͡s̮̚ ̬o̦̖͐̕ụ̢͎̆̃͗r͔̮̠͋̐͝ś͕̖̲͇̝̈́͌̎͒,̛̬̮̹̰͓͂̆̃̚ ̘͔͇̆͝͠p͍̾o̝̗͒͞we̙̔r̛̰̠͡ ̳̔̏͜í̩͢͞s̘͊ ͔̤̜̮́̾̚͘y̗̋ou͙̝̓͠r̺͡s̝̰̹̤̒̇͡,̲͙̻͌̾̑̿͟ ͍̗̬̰̔͌̓t̗̜͍̟͗̉̏͡o̜̒ů̗͔̽c͚̣̲͌̒̀h̢͗ ̯̬͂̉̑͜t͈̄h͍̃e̗̘̺̗͊͗̇͗ ͓̱̪̯̹͐͆͊̐̑s̰̣̜͊̿̅w̨̹̓́o̹͙̼̿̏r̦͕̺̩̊̃̈d̲̏̎ͅ ̫̦̆̀͂ͅa̫̯͇̙̻̍̆͌͒͡nd̺̥͐̎ tê͜ṡ̝̫̈́̊͟t̩̟̓̎ y̧̰͎͆̈̚o̫̗̖̅̾̎ụ̤̦̟̈͌̆̕͠ͅr̨̖̠͈̓̎͐̚ ͈̗̬́̆̎ḫ̓ea̖̼͉͓̮͑͒͌͛̆ṟ̋t͈͌̾̍͟͜.̱̣̤̼͊̑͊͝.̱͇̌̓̎ͅ.̧͕̩̓̾͌"̦̂ ̡̬͗̉

A burst of light tore a yelp from the depths of Midoriya's chest, and he threw his arms up, shielding himself. One beat. Two. He peeked over his arms. And gasped.

Jutting out of a rock in front of him was a sword. A familiar sword, with silver and gold expertly woven together to form the hilt, a beautiful, smooth emerald embedded in the pommel that seemed to almost glow in the ethereal light, and the blade, polished and smooth with strange markings of the likes that Midoriya had never seen before carved into it…

His arms dropped back to his sides. An innate need to touch overpowered him, and Midoriya found himself stepping closer and closer. The world narrowed down to just him and the sword and nothing else. He just...needed to touch it… He reached out with one scarred, bloodied hand, heartbeat roaring in his ears. One breath. Two. Somewhere on the edges of his awareness, shadows twisted and morphed into humanoid shapes, watching. Waiting. The air thrummed to the beat of his pounding heart and Midoriya's breath hitched right as his fingertips grazed soft and supple leather and—

Pain.

It shot through his arm like a bolt of lightning, ricocheting through his insides and tearing him open. Screams tore from his chest but Midoriya couldn't hear them. He couldn't hear anything. He couldn't see anything. He just. Hurt. It felt as though his very skin was being shorn from his body by force, every nerve fraying and tearing and mending itself over and over and over. Like he was being taken apart, piece by piece, and put back together again. Splitting pain spread from the base of his skull to his forehead, as though someone was cracking it open, shoving their hands inside…

Thoughts and memories flipped across his mind's eye like a picture book being thumbed through with a purpose. Images of his mom, her gentle eyes and soft smile, of the sheep, their gentle heads resting in his lap, soft baa's echoing through the valley and ravine.

The Guild, their red capes flashing in the sunlight. The Trials. Kacchan. The gurgled cry that rang out as slime and sludge wreathed and crawled across his tired body, consuming him. Desperation. He couldn't just watch. He...he had to do something. He had to save him—

Glowing eyes. Moonlit darkness and branches whipping at his face. Terror thudding in his heart alongside ragged breaths that fell from his lips and then he tripped and fell down, down, down, and then Uraraka. Her soft smile, gentle eyes. The shop. Endeavor city. Saisai. The kidnapping. Giran, leering over him with that strange smile and pressing the coin to his forehead, whispering, "Somnus."

Hopelessness. Regret. Determination.

Uraraka. The harsh lines of shadows that carved across her features as she stood in front of him, protecting him— the need to help, her, to save her like she saved him—

Voices crowded the back of his mind, chanting and yelling and laughing and singing, growing louder and louder and louder and louder and then—

Darkness.

Midoriya opened his eyes with a gasp.

A room.

Plain. With stonework walls covered in moss and mildew, rising up and up into the shadows. His knees pressed into the dirt floor, cold seeping through the thin, patched fabric of his trousers. Chains rattled when he moved, biting into the skin of his ankles. And scattered all around him on the floor were bits and pieces of old, stained parchment, covered in messy markings Midoriya didn't understand. He trembled, chills wracking his body, gaze dropping to slender, bony hands, hands that were not his, and his eyes grew wide.

Wh-what? Who's hands were these? Where was he? How did he get here? What...what happened—?

Light spilled down from above, golden and haunting. Midoriya's head jerked up, eyes squinting. A voice like a bell rang out. "Hurry, we don't have much time…"

His body shifted, moving as though on its own. Joints creaking, aching, breath rattling and chains clinking, he limped towards the back wall, leaning against it with frail shoulders. There was a clank. And another. That tinkering voice spilled down from above, alongside more and more light. And then—

The smell of death choked him. Heavy soot lingered in the air, burning his eyes and making his vision blurry with unshed tears. He stood atop a rise, one leg propped on a rock, and stared down into the ruined valley below. Fire and destruction and corpses lay at his feet, and Midoriya's heart wrenched in his chest. He gripped his sword in his hands, the weight of the blood that dripped from it heavy. He didn't know what happened, but he knew it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, so wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way...he...he was supposed to save them—

"No. No, please, don't leave." His voice was gravelly, wretched with anguish. Hot tears trailed down his cheeks, strands of his long hair sticking in them. He clung to someone, a man, cradling his broken body to his chest. A gurgled laugh rose from bloodied lips, and a weak hand grasped at his arm.

"S'okay."

"I...I'll get you help. There's a witch that lives a few miles out, I'll, I'll see if she has a potion, you just...need to hang on—"

"Hey." That hand found Midoriya's cheek, and he gasped, blinking down at his lover. Warmth burned in his gaze, and Midoriya felt a sob tear from him. "It's okay," the man said, low, wheezy. His hand fell away, and he grimaced, body convulsing with a horrid and wet sounding cough. Midoriya bit his lip, reaching a calloused hand to cradle his cheek, gaze tracing the familiar scar that criss-crossed his face.

"Take it."

Midoriya blinked. "What?"

"Take it...please. I need...I need you to take it…"

His gaze cut to the sword that lay in the grass, heart fracturing in his chest. "I—I can't—"

Hands gripped his arms, harsh. "Please."

Midoriya swallowed, tears still dripping down his face. He looked from his beloved to the sword and back again, fractured heart breaking in two. "Okay."

A smile lingered on bloodied lips, and his love's gaze grew unfocused, hazy. He went limp in Midoriya's arms, haggard breathing choppier, labored—

Birdsong rang through the clearing. Midoriya let out a breath. He shifted, flowing from one pose to the next. Arms out, back straight, forward, backward. Old joints popping, old muscles stretching. It was soothing. Relaxing. He let his mind go still, warmth of the life surrounding him brushing against the edges of his consciousness. It was a repetitive routine that his tired body knew by heart, and Midoriya flowed through the motions like the stream that trickled languid at his feet. He gazed into the rippling image of his reflection, blinking at limp, grey hair and strange, jagged scars, like cracks, that etched onto his face…

"Not so fast." The words sounded strange in Midoriya's ears as they dropped from his lips. The sword thumped against his hip as he stepped into the alley, the shadows prickling against his skin. Before him, the con artist cowed, eyes going wide.

"It's not what it looks like," he cried. "I—I swear, these'm's licensed potions."

Midoriya grinned, reaching up to adjust the goggles that sat just above his brow. "Are they, now?"

"Ye-yes! I swears!"

The shadows swelled from his feet, reaching out to the man that cowered before him. His smirk grew wider as color drained from the man's face, eyes wide as he gawked at the shadows curling up and around his ankles, tighter and tighter, like the noose of a snare. "Now. Tell me again. Were those potions licensed?" He flicked a finger, and the shadow pulled, yanking the man up clear of the ground, screams of terror bouncing through the alleyway and into his ears—

Hoofbeats rang in his ears. Midoriya leaned forward in the saddle, chin tucked to his chest, cape collar brushing against his cheeks. The sword thumped against his hip, a reassuring weight, and he let out a breath, eyes drifting closed. Shouts rang out behind him, and he jerked the reins to the right, guiding his steed in a sharp turn just as a crack of lightning hit the dirt where she'd stood seconds before. His skin tingled, mind opening and calling for his magic, willing the water in the air around him to grow heavier, to stick together… When he opened his eyes, a thick fog brewed up from the ground, enveloping everything in his wake. His lips curled into a smile. Good.

Let them try to find him now.

Let them try to take the sword…

Midoriya blinked sweat from his eyes, chest heaving. Hair hung in his face, clung to the nape of his neck, spilling from what once was a well pinned updo. He leaned, heavy, against the sword, air thick and heady around him, weighing down on his shoulders. "Go."

"Nana, I—"

"Go." He tossed a look over his shoulder, vision swimming, blurring the image of a man in a battered, golden cape that hung off his shoulders, hovering behind him. "Find Kotarou. Take him somewhere safe. Please." His voice fractured, and he turned to the broken body of his husband at his feet, teeth gritting and lips curling into a wretched smile. He wouldn't let this happen again. He wouldn't. No more of his mages would ever get so close to anyone he ever cared for again—

Heat blistered across his skin. Midoriya squinted, arm raised over his nose to stifle the thick, billowing smoke that spread throughout the village. Fire crackled and popped around him, casting its eerie blue light in the hazy darkness. He stepped lightly, free hand gripping his heavy broadsword in a vice grip. Another building, crumbling under the weight of the fire that tore at its architecture loomed up from the shadows and smoke. Midoriya's lips pulled into a grin and he lowered his arm, securing his grip on his sword. A rush of heat flashed through him, and the sword lit up, light blue flames licking up the iridescent steel. He raised it, and swung.

Wood splintered and the door gave way, and Midoriya stepped inside. Smoke and haze made visibility impossible, but the distinct coughing of people rose above the roar of flames. Midoriya strode forward, sword aloft, its glow illuminating a sphere around him, shining across strewn furniture and broken valuables. The coughing grew louder as he went deeper into the house, until there, in the corner— he found them. Kids, huddled in a pile, eyes wide and soot streaked across their faces. Midoriya lowered his sword and knelt on the ground, smile easing into something soft and kind, and he reached out one large hand. "It's okay," he said, gently, "I am here."

The kids blinked at him, gazes colored in wonder. The eldest reached out, fingers grazing his own—

Midoriya gasped. He stood in the cave, sword glowing brightly in his hands. Around him, eight figures stood. Light shimmered, patterned across them in pieces of familiarity. Patches of colors, across faces and arms and clothes, flickering so fast Midoriya could hardly register what he was seeing. But innately, he knew. His gaze swept across the circle, stopping on gentle blue eyes and a kind smile, and his heart thudded in his chest.

"̠͙̖̎̆̍ĝ̢̜̞̐͌o̟͊.̛̼͚͍͆̊"̧̪̊̾͟͡

He blinked. Shadowy figures vanished, replaced with trees and stars. He stood in the shadows of the cliff, wind howling in agony, churning through the valley like a beast on the prowl. It curled in his hair, prodded at his cloak, whispered in his ear. Thunder crackled overhead, clouds brewing and blotting out the stars and moon. Lightning replaced starlight, streaking across the sky in jagged lines, illuminating the clearing in flashes of bright light. It was in these fleeting moments of brilliant brightness that he saw them. There, in the middle of the clearing, the monster stood, looming over Uraraka. She was laid in the dirt on her back, staff raised, pushing back against one nobby, clawed hand that bore down on her.

Time slowed.

Midoriya took a step. Shadows curled at his feet, eager, poised to pounce. The earth itself seemed to tremble underfoot, splitting and quaking in his ears. Water condensed in the air around him, growing heavy, beading on his face, arms. The wind that swirled and churned slowed its rhythm, stalling, before picking back up, using him as its source, howling with a song of vengeance. Another streak of lightning, and a clap of thunder boomed, like an explosion. Glowing eyes met his, and in the wake of the silence, the loud snarls reached Midoriya's ears. His fingers curled tighter around the sword hilt, and he raised it, tip poised, ready.

A cry rang out. Uraraka threw the monster's gnarled, clawed hand from her staff, and rolled to her feet, gem glowing pink in the dark. She lunged, yelling, "Pereunt!" The staff glowed brighter, and she hit the beast, hard. Magic energy fizzled and crackled in the air, a gust of wind whipping out from the impact.

Nothing.

The beast lurched, snarls loud and horrid. It swung at Uraraka and batted her like she was nothing, sending her flying through the air until she slammed into a tree and crumpled onto the ground, motionless.

No.

N̢̬͂͑̓͢Ǫ̧̻̔̋̎.

Anger lit inside him like a raging inferno, and a burst of green light crackled to life from the sword. Fire. Hot fire. He swung the blade in an arc over his head, slamming it down into the grass underfoot. The earth shuddered, trembled, and caved to his will, buckling and cracking and ensnaring the monster with craggy hands made of dirt and clay. Shadows wound around the wreathing, bucking, screaming beast, holding it fast and tight. A shift of his foot, and the earth and shadows yanked, and the beast was before him, spitting and howling, eyes glowing and mad. Saliva dripped from it's jaws as it struggled against its bonds, splattering on the fractured earth below.

But fighting was futile.

Midoriya pulled the sword from the dirt, its green flame flaring, bright. He breathed in.

Silence.

His gaze snatched a bright, white light, pouring from the center of the beast's chest. He breathed out.

And stabbed, right through the heart.

Blood-curdling, horrid screams pierced the night. A light so bright burst forth from the monster, blinding Midoriya. He squeezed his eyes shut and yanked the sword free, stumbling back. Dirt and shadows fell away, leaving the monster stumbling, wreathing. It clawed at itself, screams of agony filling the night as fractures glowed across its skin in strange, repeated patterns. It burst into flames, then, collapsing into the dirt, howling alongside the raging wind. Glowing eyes found his, something akin to fear shining there, before fire overtook the monster and vanquished it, leaving behind nothing but ashes.

He...he did it.

Midoriya breathed.

The sword slipped from his hands, falling to the ground with a thud. Everything stopped— the wind, the earth, the shadows, the crawling under his skin. Exhaustion fell onto Midoriya like boulders from a landslide, and he felt his body collapse, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Echoes of words murmured across his mind, all before everything faded to darkness.

"̱̫̰̖̲̿̋̇͊̎p͕̩͕̲͐̾̂̅o̻̻̐̈́w̟͚͈͇̆̂e̪̊r͙͒ ͍͇̥̓͛͛i̛̖̠͖̬̬͂̌͡͞ṡ̭ ̜͊͠ͅỏ̝̙͓̋͡ù͍̺̫̯͐͊̕ŗ̛̙̘͕̈̇̊s̰͇̲̏́̔,̳͇͆̈ ̢̠̒́ṕ̭ő͔w̞͉̞͑̃͘̕ͅê̟̪͔͒̈r̝͈̙͂͞͝ ̙̋ī̛̹̥̳͝s͔͖̻̀̕ ̫̓ẙ͎̤͞ou͜͞r͖̦̈́͋s̬̙̥͔͛͗̏,̣̜̱̃̆

̫̬͓̤̈́̈̑͗o̡͚̤̫̅̒͑̊ͅǹ̮̦ę͕͓͒̃͋̕͟

̧̼͌̚f̬͙̀̇or̡̩̱͈̽͋͋͠

̖͍̃͆ȁ͖͇̓l͔̆ļ̼̼̟̟̄̓͒̈̇.͇͓̘̖̀́̄͝"̰̟̜̏̿̑

~#~#~#~

Midoriya stared at his palms, vision blurry. They were scuffed, from being pushed over, over and over again. His heart squeezed in his chest. It wasn't fair. He should have been able to use fire too— why couldn't he have been gifted, like the others? Like Kacchan?

"Izuku?"

His mother's quiet, uncertain voice drifted through their hut. Midoriya's gaze snapped up, her own eyes wide and watery, like his, and his heart hurt even more. "Do, do you-you think I'll have my own flame?" he said, voice cracking. "Do you think I...I can be a hero too?"

He watched as Inko crumpled before his eyes, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Izuku." She lurched across the space and flung her arms around his small body, pulling him close, her furs rubbing against his wet cheek as she sobbed. "I'm sorry," she said, over and over again. "I'm sorry."

Midoriya felt his heart splinter in his chest despite the warmth of his mother's tight hug. He wriggled in her grasp, lifting one, small, scraped hand, staring at his cold and useless palm wishing, hoping, willing a flame to pop to life.

None did.

He was flameless.

Useless.

A shitty Deku.

~#~#~#~

Uraraka.

Midoriya awoke with a jolt, eyes snapping open with the thought of his friend on his mind. Uraraka. Where was she? Was she hurt? He bolted upright, the sudden motion sending him careening sideways, stomach lurching to his throat. Midoriya groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Shit. He felt as though he'd fallen off a cliff, or got crushed by a boulder.

Or both.

"Deku-kun?"

His eyes snapped open. Uraraka hovered in his space, eyes wide and bright and oh so very much alive. Relief left him winded, and he melted into the dirt, sighing. "You're okay," he croaked. She smiled, a wobbly thing, and reached out, a hand grazing his cheek. Warmth fizzled through him at the touch, and he leaned into it, sighing. Gods, she was okay.

She was okay.

"So are you," she murmured. "Can you sit up?"

Midoriya sucked in a breath. And nodded.

Sitting up, it turned out, was hard. He felt limp, like the ragdolls children played with back in his own village, made of scraps of leftover fur and wool. His head was stuffed like cotton, and moving hurt. But he was alive. And so was Uraraka.

She didn't fare much better than him, though. Her hair was a wreck, dirt caked on her face and dress. A purple bruise glowed on her cheek, and she moved by dragging herself along the ground with one arm, face twisted with a grimace. Midoriya's heart twisted, and he reached for her, teetering in place.

"You're hurt."

Uraraka grasped his hand, smile wry and pained. "So are you."

And he couldn't quite argue with that. Midoriya could feel the sting of claw-marks etched into the skin of his back with every move he made, and he grimaced. It was not a pleasant feeling, though it was almost nothing compared to the pounding in his head and the ache that radiated through his entire body.

Uraraka scooted closer and settled in beside him, and Midoriya sagged against her, exhausted. She didn't seem to mind, and for that he was grateful. He didn't know why, but sitting up was just. So much effort, right now. His gaze traced the churned dirt around them, covered in gouge marks and cracks, branches and boughs and churned up trees littering the space, bark splintered and broken, their wounds glowing in the sunlight. It was proof of the nightmare they had lived— a waking knowledge that monsters were real, and that one had just attempted to kill them under the cloak of darkness. And yet, parts of his memory felt...fuzzy. Like a dream. A strange one. One where he held power and magic in his fingertips.

He frowned. "What...what happened?"

Uraraka looked at him with pursed lips and wide eyes. "You...you don't remember?" she asked. Midoriya bit his lip, brow knitting.

"I...I remember the monster...you told me to run, but…"

"But you didn't run."

"I couldn't." Midoriya clung to her hand like it was his lifeline, proof that she was real, that she was there. "I...I couldn't just leave you alone."

She squeezed his hand, too, a gentle affirmation. "I know." Her thumb brushed against his knuckles, soft, soothing, and he watched as she stared out at the ruined land around them. Gods, what were they going to do? Their camp was unrecognizable, their belongings nowhere to be found. And their injuries— there was no way they were going to make it back to the city in time to finish the king's order. Unease swooped in Midoriya's gut. What would happen if they didn't manage to fill the king's order? Would they be...be banished? Midoriya bit his lip, the spot under his shoulder throbbing something awful at the thought. His gaze darted to Uraraka, mouth falling open to voice his fears, but she was stiff beside him, eyes wide and glassy as she stared as though at a ghost.

Midoriya sucked in a breath. "U-Uraraka-san?"

But she didn't seem to hear him. Instead she gawked, clutching his hand tight enough that it nearly hurt. "It's...it's real," she breathed. Midoriya's brow furrowed. It was real? What was? He followed her gaze, blinking at the way light glimmered from something in the grass. And, oh. Midoriya gawked, realization slamming into him like an angry ram bowling him off his feet.

It.

It was real.

Everything. Everything he thought he'd dreamed. Every single thing. The magic, the voices, the monster shrieking like a thousand damned souls, splintering to pieces before his very eyes. All of it. He stared, dazed, at the thing that lay in the grass, glittering in dawn's gentle light.

A sword.

A sword that he had found, once encased in stone.

Gah, even re-reading this to post is fun for me XD Hopefully it's as fun to read for y'all, lol. Enjoy :3

-Kat