Bakugou was royally pissed.
Admittedly, that wasn't out of the ordinary for him; no one that had met him would be surprised. But this anger wasn't anything like his day to day outbursts. This was the culmination of months of a building rage, a self-hatred and regret so strong that he had been bursting at the seams trying to contain it. He kept the feelings down under lock and key, buried in his gut and under his command even as it churned and left him aching.
Bakugou couldn't remember the first time he noticed the feeling; he'd only realized what was going on long after the moment his entire world seemed to crash down around him. After the Kamino Ward Incident and All Might's retirement… no, it had been the fight he'd picked with Izuku after the licensing exam he'd failed. He could vividly remember the wretched empathy that practically dripped off of Izuku's face, although at the time he had read it as pity.
The memory of Izuku reaching out to help him stirred up the anxiety in his gut, leaving him nauseous and suppressing the urge to vomit. If only these feelings were as easy to expel as the contents of his stomach.
But even as he recognized the turning point in his life, when he'd defeated Izuku for what would turn out to be the last time, the feelings didn't become overwhelming until much later. He'd spend hours and hours going over what he'd done, building up a wall of dread brick by brick, thought by thought.
He had failed Izuku on purpose; now he had failed Izuku by accident too. And if his hunches and gut instincts were right, Izuku was in more danger and they wouldn't be able to protect him. To save him the way he saved others. But that just meant that he had to work harder, do better.
He felt like he was in an endless loop of failure, and endless uphill battle of self-improvement. Bakugou was beyond frustrated, but that frustration was something he could use to grow stronger. For as often as he used to call Izuku a mere pebble on his path to greatness, he wouldn't let Izuku's pain—Izuku's self-destruction—as a source of his own strength.
Despite the emotional turmoil of it all, he only grew more firm in his resolve.
But nothing could have prepared him for what happened when they had returned to UA empty handed. The shouts and protests of the civilians taking refuge within UA made Bakugou feel like his stomach was climbing up his throat.
Who the fuck had given them the right to condemn a teenager to death? They were the adults, why the fuck had they decided their comfort and false sense of security was worth more than Izuku's life?
He had been pissed beyond words, vision having tinted red as he stormed into the gates. But there was some sick, twisted, disgusting part of him that was glad that they hadn't found Izuku and brought him back to a sight like this. At least Izuku wouldn't have to finally return with them to rest only to be met with more proof that he was truly on his own. He didn't need the civilians' closed-minded, ignorant fears thrown in his face after he spent weeks on the streets facing the danger head-on for the very people who rebuked him. But that relief had been drowned out by the nausea and revulsion he felt not only at his reflexive thoughts, but at the crowd itself.
Bakugou hadn't been expecting gratitude—especially since the heroes were somewhat at fault for this clusterfuck in the first place—but the complete disregard for their lives was something he would never forget.
Apparently it hadn't mattered that they were sacrificing everything for them. It hadn't mattered that the only reason many of them were still alive to complain was because of UA, the pros, and Izuku.
It had been jarring to realize, though not entirely unexpected, that these civilians ultimately wouldn't care if the heroes or heroes-in-training lived or died so long as they got to go back to their normal. Nevermind all the scars, mental wounds, paranoia, chronic pain, anxiety, fear, dread, regret. It would never be enough for these people they sought to protect.
Before Japan had fallen apart, the disregard had already been there. He had experienced it first-hand at the Sports Festival and again when watching the press conference during his kidnapping. And while Bakugou had long since accepted the truth, he knew that Izuku wouldn't have been in the right state of mind to handle the addition of that harsh truth.
But Bakugou hadn't been able to truly deconstruct and understand his feelings and thoughts in the moment when he'd been faced with the jeering crowd. He'd simply felt rage, angrily striding forward, shouting expletives and curses and insults at them. He'd had no idea if the words spewing from his mouth had even been coherent or intelligible, the experience was fuzzy in his brain.
The only thing he remembered clearly was when Half and Half had stepped forward and gripped his shoulder tightly, the near-painful pressure grounding him amidst his fury. They had stood there for only a second before he'd been shoved backwards, Half and Half storming forward to go off on a tirade of his own. It had taken the teachers an ungodly amount of time to ease tensions and guide the students away from the riled crowd. But what ground his gears the most was how the crowd hadn't looked the least bit cowed or ashamed of themselves.
If any of his classmates hadn't lost faith in society after the clusterfuck of a battle in which they'd been forced to participate… well, Bakugou was certain the blatantly unashamed disregard for Izuku's life would be enough to do it.
Hours later, after they had all showered and eaten something, they gathered in the common room of Heights Alliance. None of them had planned it, but it had hardly been surprising that they had sought comfort in each other after their failure to rescue Izuku. They spent hours ranting and raving (and crying, even if some of them wouldn't admit it) about the injustice of it all. But underneath their anger, Bakugou could tell that each of his classmates had been doing their damn best not to think about the fact that cleaning up, eating food, and even venting their emotions to their friends were all luxuries Izuku still couldn't afford.
At some point, Bakugou had realized it would last all night unless someone made the effort to break it up. Everyone knew it, but nobody had been willing to be the one to speak up in fear of sparking more tears.
Bakugou, on the other hand, had no such problem being brash and insensitive. Even so, he still struggled to convince his classmates to sleep that night. While they all eventually went to their own rooms, he wouldn't be surprised if none of them had actually slept a wink. Admittedly, he hadn't slept either. Instead, he'd been stuck staring at his ceiling, thinking through the clusterfuck of a day, his chest aching as he wondered why he got to rest safely in the dorms while Izuku was off who knew where, facing danger and exhaustion at every turn.
But that'd been yesterday.
At the current moment, Bakugou was sitting in an infuriatingly comfortable chair in the principal's office, twiddling his thumbs because none of the adults had their shit together.
The first thing he had done that morning was force his way into Nezu's office and demand to speak with whichever heroes were actively involved in their tenuous counterattack against All for One. The principal had initially tried to turn him away, but Bakugou'd had enough of their babying bullshit and took pride in the fact that he was as stubborn as Izuku.
He would not budge, but it certainly helped that he had information that the heroes needed to find Izuku. He had leverage and, therefore, an in. The principal had reluctantly agreed, although Bakugou couldn't help but wonder how much of his hesitation was for show. It was far too late for the pros to pretend that heroes-in-training weren't being treated as pawns in this war.
All of that had been hours ago. Endeavor and Best Jeanist had shown up soon after Nezu had contacted them, but the four of them were left waiting for Hawks to return from whatever the fuck he was up to.
Nezu had left the room to contact the (now) Number Two Hero, but given Endeavor's grumbling about responsibility and mentions of his status as the Number One Hero, Bakugou figured that Hawks had been sent on some super important mission. Best Jeanist's calm reassurances and gentle reprimands had helped the hero-in-training keep a lid on his temper, but being made to wait for so long tested his patience. Well, that and the fact that they were still hiding shit from him.
But despite his complaints about how they were actively keeping him out of the loop, what truly pissed Bakugou off was All Might's absence. All Might had insisted that he would protect Izuku, would stay by his side and keep him safe.
Ha, what a joke.
Bakugou was certain that Izuku had been the one to leave All Might behind, to keep him safe now that the former hero no longer had his quirk. But he had a feeling that the hero was wallowing in his own misery instead of putting all of his energy into what would actually help Izuku. The two were far too alike for their own good—selfless and selfish in all the wrong ways—but at least Izuku would have used his head to realize what would actually improve a situation.
But All Might had finally fallen apart, and irreparably so.
This had been a long time coming, Bakugou realized, but there was some ugly part of him that resented how the adults had fallen apart and left it to them to step up and harden their resolve to make up for their weaknesses at such a crucial time. The heroes all knew it to be true, but their damn pride and fear kept them from accepting that reality and utilizing the students' as they should.
Well, with the exception of Izuku, because of course that was the one reality the situation prevented them from ignoring to their heart's content. They had no choice but to accept that hard truth, but apparently the rest was fair game.
Even so, Bakugou forced himself to swallow his anger, to ignore the slimy feelings that squirmed around in his gut even as he hated himself simultaneously for having them and for ignoring them. His emotions had little to add to the situation they were in, and while his drive to save Izuku was rooted in his guilt worry fear, his actions were still logical. Or so he told himself.
So when the call came from Hawks and Nezu picked up with a smile on his face, the winged hero's voice tiredly reporting that he'd be back at UA within the hour, Bakugou sectioned off all of the things that made him weak and readied himself for what was bound to be a soul-crushing strategy session.
He ignored the notifications on his phone from his classmates, desperately begging to be told what was going on. They didn't need to be burdened with the truth.
Takami couldn't help but take note of how the wind was oddly strong today.
It wasn't a particularly unusual nor very important thing for him to take note of, but it was a concrete sensation he could latch onto. Noting the direction, speed, and temperature of the air as it moved around him was second nature to him, as easy as breathing, just as he had been trained to do.
Though unimportant, it served as a temporary distraction from the deep pit that had settled in his gut. He would describe it as a weight, but the sensation of heaviness that came from emotions was easily discernible from actual weight when he was mid-flight. He had experienced a good few gravity manipulation quirks, so he'd unfortunately had experience where the distinction was crucial.
He almost wished that he could write the feeling off as some air pressure or an effect of a quirk, but while he was an optimist, he hadn't been able to delude himself from reality in a long time.
No, he knew that no matter how many times he paid specific attention to how the wind shifted direction by a few degrees or how the humidity slightly decreased, Takami couldn't ignore the fact that Midoriya Izuku was gone.
He had done his best—just as he'd been taught, he could only do his best, his trainers and handlers wouldn't accept any less than that—yet everything had still fallen apart.
Logically, he knew that there was no way he could have known that the reason Shigaraki had been missing was because he had spent months being modified to inherit All for One's power. He couldn't have known that Gigantomachia would awaken upon hearing Shigaraki's voice. He had no way of knowing that Dabi—Todoroki Touya—hadn't trusted him from the beginning and that there was nothing he could have done to gain his trust.
Yet he couldn't help but dwell on it.
If only he had pressed harder on Shiagarki's conspicuous absence or sabotaged Gigantomachia's radio or had even a little bit less faith in his infiltration skills. But while he pondered and lamented, Takami knew deep down in his heart that he hadn't been the only one to fail that day with devastating consequences.
In fact, he would argue that the only ones who hadn't failed that day were the UA students who had stepped up when the pros had faltered.
Midoriya was arguably the only reason a majority of heroes hadn't been killed by Shigaraki, yet as soon as the kid had woken up, he was back out on the frontlines. After learning of One for All, Takami knew that the kid's plan was sound. It wasn't something he would have suggested himself, nor thought of if he were honest with himself, but that hadn't made it any less effective.
Had it been a short-term solution with a slim chance of success? Certainly. But it was far better than flying by the seat of their pants, as they would have done without him.
Despite agreeing with the plan, Takami couldn't help but loathe it. Regardless of the kid's opinion on the matter, the adults were all using him to further their own agenda. The kid may share that goal, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. Hawks had been a pawn of the Hero Commission most of his life. Midoriya Izuku was running head-first into the same situation with a determination only rivaled by All Might or Endeavor.
At the very least, the other pros agreed with Takami. But regardless of how they felt, they couldn't hide from the truth. It was the same with the other hero course students. They were only first years and yet all it had taken was a flimsy card for them to justify bringing them to the front lines. The kids were purposefully kept out of the loop regarding the heroes' plans, which Takami was beyond relieved to discover, but at the same time it was too little too late.
Not long after they had lost track of Deku, the 1-A students had gone to find their classmate, forcing Endeavor to go along with their demands. Takami found it mildly amusing how easily their new Number One had caved, if only to distract from the aching regret.
But even so, after Nezu had relayed to him the news, he had sent Hawks on a special mission.
More than anything, Takami hoped that his classmates would be enough to convince Deku to take a break and return to UA, even though he acknowledged that it wasn't very likely. Their initial plan, as useful and strategic as it was immediately after the prison breakouts, was no longer viable. The boy was a key player, not some sacrificial pawn, and he needed to get his head back in the game if any of them wanted to live.
Unfortunately, Takami was far too familiar with hoping for the best while still expecting the worst. As much as he was an optimist (as he had told Lady Nagant), he still had dealt with the harsh realities the world had thrown at him.
Honestly, if he had thought his word would be enough to get Deku to rest, he would have tried that. As it was, only emotions could get through to the kid now. In just the past month, Midoriya had easily become one of the most powerful people in the world. He'd always had that power dormant inside, but he hadn't had it at his disposal exactly as he does now.
There were very few people in the world who could force him to do anything now.
Frankly, neither he nor the other top heroes had expected that. All Might had warned them of the boy's stubbornness, but they hadn't truly believed him until it came time to try to keep him in line.
And that wasn't the boy's fault, no matter how upsetting or stressful or dangerous things got. Despite his feelings on the matter, Takami couldn't bring himself to direct any negativity Deku's way. If anything, it only made him even more determined to do right by him.
Hence his current objective.
When Japan first devolved into lawlessness, some of the first things to go had been government stations and official methods of communication. Before the government had effectively crumbled, they had reached out for international aid. As far as Takami was aware, Japan had been abandoned by other nations. Their international contacts had cut off communication and not long after that, the structure and security of their society fully collapsed.
Nezu continued his best efforts to reach out for aid and beg for assistance, calling in favors that got rejected left and right. Takami had to admit that a little bit of anger had bubbled up his throat against his will. It was aggravating how easily they gave up on Japan despite cordial relations for so long. But he knew that all the treaties in the world were only worth something until the other countries actually had to put themselves at risk.
So aid had been declined, but they had an ace up their sleeve. All Might had spent some time in the US and he hadn't spent that time in isolation. Once again, the former hero was somehow still saving their asses despite being retired.
Takami blinked in surprise as he noticed specks flying in the distance ahead of him. Reinvigorated with hope, the winged hero increased his speed. Less than a minute later, he maneuvered a bit to the side to get their attention.
A light flashed and he grinned, pulling out his phone to report to Nezu that he'd return soon.
He slowed his momentum significantly, waiting for the aircrafts to catch up to him so they could talk. Hope welled up in his chest despite his best efforts to contain it. With his mission successful, they now had a significant advantage.
Takami would have expected All for One to jump on the chance to block any aid, especially when it came in the form of such a powerful woman, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. That was Nezu's job.
As the aircrafts caught up to him, Takami began flying in the opposite direction he'd come from to match pace with their slowed speed. He had spent many hours over the last day combing through the skies for them, so he was relieved to have found them in so little time (and before All for One caught wind of their arrival).
The blonde woman met his grin with one of her own as she somehow remained standing on top of one of the aircrafts, "I was wondering how to contact you, I assume you're Hawks? Ranked Two, if I remember correctly."
"The one and only," he chuckled, "I'm here to escort you to UA so we can begin planning our counterstrike. We appreciate your assistance."
"Of course, this is All Might's home. There is very little that would stop me from lending a hand when I owe him so much. I assume you'll debrief me on the way?"
Hawks reluctantly shook his head, "No, we'll get into the details when we arrive at UA. It's a bit too sensitive to risk talking in the open like this."
She frowned, but shook her head, "Well, no matter. From now on, you have Stars and Stripes on your side."
"And we couldn't be happier for it," Takami laughed softly.
As they made their way to UA, he couldn't help but be grateful. Now, regardless of whether or not Midoriya was convinced to rest and return to UA, they had an ally that could take on some of the heavy burden that had rested solely on the kid for so long.
Now, all he could do was hope that 1-A had succeeded in their quest.
Midoriya was having an okay time. Or at least, that was what he was trying to convince himself of.
Truthfully, he had asked to go with Luffy to escape the Whitebeards without them trying to follow him. But another part of him wanted to judge how well he would be able to handle himself alone in this world. Since he was planning to go out and search for a way to get back home, he couldn't afford to be caught off guard and taken down unexpectedly. Training with Rayleigh, whom Midoriya had gathered was widely known to be strong, was his best way to test himself. Not to mention the best way to learn about all the details of Haki he might need to know.
Essentially, if he truly was too weak to make it on his own in this world, he would have to suck it up, cut his losses, and return to the Whitebeards. Chances were that he would have to tell them the truth and beg for their help, even though a part of him still wasn't sure how much he could trust them. But even if they were trustworthy, it didn't feel right to ask them to help him search for something that may not even be possible.
And if they did succeed and found a way for him to get back to his world, they would have to let him go. They had been so earnest and desperate when they had asked him to join their crew; he would have to repay their kindness with abandonment.
Midoriya knew he had no other choice, but if possible… he didn't want to do that to them. It would be better to avoid getting too close in the first place. Besides, that wasn't even taking into account the trouble and danger he might put them through in the process. The hero-in-training had the worst luck, after all.
At first, he figured it had all been a coincidence. But honestly, there was only so many times he could be involved in incidents before he was no longer able to dismiss the possibility that it had all been his fault, directly or indirectly.
He could only reassure himself that his decision was the correct one, the one that would hurt and endanger the least number of people.
His lengthy reflections aside, Midoriya hadn't been having a great time. Returning to Marineford had been a boon, something he certainly hadn't been prepared for, but helpful nonetheless. He had hoped to go back to scope the place out for leads on how he got here, but he'd had no luck. Of course, he had been busy fending off Marines left and right, but the time he'd taken to look for anything out of place was for naught. There hadn't been any kind of atmospheric distortion or odd shimmer, smell, sound, or anything out of the ordinary except for the three of them.
Midoriya had known it would be a long shot, but he was still disappointed by the lack of leads. As much as he wanted to brush off the lack of results as a consequence of their rush to get in and out, he had a feeling that whatever he was looking for wasn't there. He resigned himself to this fact as they made their mad escape, much to the chagrin of the soldiers chasing after them.
But at the end of the day, their chaotic run around Marineford was nothing compared to the place they went to train. When Rayleigh had described an isolated island that experienced forty-eight different seasons—a new one nearly once a week—his jaw had nearly hit the floor.
But once again, even that had been nothing compared to the old man's demonstration of Haki. Seeing such large animals was already enough to make him question what crazy world he'd managed to end up in, but witnessing how casually Rayleigh had subdued them left him speechless.
Of course, their training began with Observation Haki. The man's explanation of what Haki actually was had been intriguing but also severely unhelpful. Apparently Haki was something that only unlocked in a spur of the moment situation and was something each individual had to get a feel for on their own. There was no hard and fast rule in mastering it (other than practice, of course), which honestly reminded Midoriya of when he had struggled to learn to use One for All early on. That felt like such a lifetime ago, especially considering the assortment of quirks he had nearly mastered in the last few weeks.
Once they started training, Midoriya quickly discovered that Danger Sense mimicked the results of Observation Haki very closely. The old man had been impressed, commenting on how he already seemed to have unlocked Observation Haki without realizing it.
Midoriya had played along, mumbling something about not realizing that his 'battle instincts' were actually Haki. Unfortunately, given his inability to turn off Danger Sense, he hadn't been able to make an attempt to actually unlock the supposedly easier form of Haki.
Even so, the use of the blindfold helped him to focus more on Danger Sense. He'd been able to notice a pattern after a few hours dodging blows. Once he realized he could pinpoint not only the direction and timing of the attack, but also the speed and surface area of attack based on the type, duration, and location of Danger Sense's warnings, Midoriya had felt a bit silly for not noticing the versatility sooner.
Luffy, on the other hand, was struggling. Midoriya had cringed every time Rayleigh slammed the wooden bat into the teen's body, catching him off-guard as he fumbled around in his blindfold.
Honestly, Midoriya was kind of glad he had Danger Sense, otherwise that would have been him. But at the same time, he needed every advantage he could get. Whether those advantages would actually be of use once he went back, he wasn't sure, but in the meantime, he wouldn't waste the opportunity. He had a sneaking suspicion that Haki wasn't a thing in his world, otherwise Pro Heroes would certainly teach it to their students, so he could only assume that any Haki he learned wouldn't be useful against Shigaraki and All for One. But he shoved that thought as far down as possible.
It had also occurred to him that it was possible the fact that he was from a different world (or universe or dimension, he still wasn't sure) meant that he might not be able to actually unlock or use Haki. He hoped that it wasn't the case, since Rayleigh made it clear that the lack of Haki would make them vulnerable to the Marines as well as Pirates in the New World. An inability to use it would severely limit his options.
Of course, that was assuming it was actually less of a necessity in Paradise, as he'd heard this section of the Grand Line called. With the Marines targeting him, Haki might be needed simply for going anywhere. But even if he could get away without it in this region, he couldn't be certain that he would be able to avoid traveling to the New World in his search for a way back home.
But none of those thoughts were particularly good for anything except making him increasingly on edge and indecisive. An indecisive hero was a useless one at best and a dangerous one at worst.
At the moment, it had been three days since they arrived on the island, Rusukaina. On the first day, Rayleigh had demonstrated and explained Haki then began training them in Observation. Despite Midoriya supposedly having it, Rayleigh had spent several hours testing his limits. Apparently Danger Sense had even picked up on several strikes where the man had deliberately hidden his presence, which he made note of. It seemed that basic Observation Haki was more limited than expected. Was it possible for him to also learn to hide his presence? Questions for later.
On the second day, Rayleigh started Midoriya's training in Armament Haki, to no avail. Luffy continued to struggle along with Observation. Even so, the teen kept up his optimistic demeanor, constantly showering Midoriya in compliments and genuine praise of his ability.
It was simultaneously endearing and upsetting how Luffy wasn't easily dissuaded from expressing his awe. It made Midoriya's gut churn with guilt and unease, but once it was the other teen's turn for training, he made sure to find an isolated spot to train to gather himself.
Even so, Luffy deliberately sought him out for company in the time they took for breaks. Midoriya's avoidance almost turned into an accidental game of hide-and-seek, but the downtrodden expression on Luffy's face that evening quickly dispelled any thoughts of continuing to avoid him.
On the third day, today, Midoriya had struggled not to step in as Luffy continued to get slapped around like a training dummy. Of course, he hadn't had much more luck with Armament Haki, but it was difficult not to try to fix everything when the training was so clearly hurting the teen. So by the time their mid-day break rolled around, he'd given up holding himself back.
"Can you tell me what you're using to try to dodge Rayleigh's attacks?" Midoriya blurted out, blushing a bit when Luffy's head whipped up to stare at him in surprise.
"What do you mean?" he asked, tilting his head in confusion.
"What sense are you trying to use in place of your sight?"
Luffy continued to stare at him intently, pulling a face of intense concentration as though the act of trying to consider the question was inherently difficult, "I guess I'm listening to what he steps on, but that hasn't been working!"
Midoriya blinked, vaguely wondering whether his advice would actually help Luffy, especially since Danger Sense was definitely not the same as Observation Haki.
"And I haven't really gotten any better, so I should try something else, right? But it's not like I can smell movement and I only notice the air moving once he's already hit me," Luffy whined, looking miserable.
"Well, Rayleigh said that you should be able to feel the intent," he tried, only for Luffy to interrupt.
"But I don't know what that means! How do you feel that?"
Midoriya bit his lip, thinking back to his own combat training, "I don't know if it will be the same for you, but in a regular fight, do you sometimes get a sense for what your opponent will do next? There's almost a rhythm, an expectation for each person that you react to with more ease the more time you get used to them. I assume this is an extension of that. Underneath the rhythm, there's the intent. Maybe try getting used to Rayleigh's rhythm and then you can try to feel for the intent behind each movement."
For a moment, Midoriya hoped he had gotten through to the teen. Luffy sat there, staring at the ground intently as though he was processing everything that had just been said.
But then he looked up and blurted out, "Why'd you say it's an extension but then say it's underneath?"
Midoriya sighed and glanced up at the sky, berating himself for thinking he could put it into words that made sense. He wasn't even sure if they made sense to a normal person, much less someone like Luffy. Before he could try to clarify, Rayleigh approached them and dragged Luffy off for more training and told the hero-in-training to go practice on his own.
Honestly, Midoriya got the feeling that he was an unwanted addition, given how much longer the man spent with Luffy than him. Although it could simply be because Luffy was "behind," he wasn't so sure.
Either way, that evening he had figured he might as well ask Rayleigh a few questions about this world. Since the man wasn't a part of the Whitebeard Pirates and Luffy was a bit of an airhead, Midoriya could probably get away with some suspicious questions.
Luckily for him, Rayleigh had deemed it a good time to sit down and chat with him over dinner. Midoriya felt a bit uneasy about the fact that Luffy was still banned from sharing the food, even if it was supposedly an incentive for the teen to learn Observation Haki faster.
Their conversation had started out casual, the topics focusing on irrelevant, impersonal things. He wasn't sure if it was on purpose on the man's part, but Midoriya found himself grateful for the reprieve. It gave him time to consider what was the best way to bring up his questions. Theoretically, any normal person from this world would know at least the basics about the government. His lack of knowledge would be suspect in any context, even if there were exceptions to that general rule that made sense.
His goal wasn't necessarily to avoid being suspicious so much as it was to avoid constant attention and scrutiny.
But he was terrible at that, especially considering he had spent weeks vying to maintain All for One's attention on him. He had been a distraction for so long, even while making an effort to keep his identity hidden from the public. The ones who needed to know already did, but his actions had still drawn attention. He was certain that he had sparked a multitude of rumors, though no civilian had ever approached him to confirm it; he'd only heard bits and pieces of frightened whispers.
So honestly, as much as he needed to be on the down low at the moment, he wasn't suited for it. If only he'd asked Aizawa-sensei for more pointers. Hell, even Hawks could have provided helpful advice, given how long he'd spent undercover with the League of Villains.
As it stood now, the only excuse Midoriya could think of was amnesia. At the very least, the many scars that stood out starkly against his skin, exposed by the minimal coverage of his slightly too-large clothing, would support that excuse. But there was only so far feigning ignorance like that would take him. It was too easy—too obvious—of an excuse.
Regardless, it was all he had. So when a lull in the conversation came around not long after they had finished their food and cleaned up their make-shift campsite, he steeled himself and decided to take the opportunity to fish for information.
"Um… do you think I could ask you some questions?" Midoriya mumbled, shuddering a bit as the confidence he'd spent so much time building up easily drained out of him.
Rayleigh grinned teasingly at him, "You just did, but sure."
For a brief moment, he wondered if his cover story was actually a good excuse or if he was making a big mistake. Unfortunately for his nerves, the man stared at him expectantly, giving the boy no time to rethink his plan.
"Do you think you could… Could you explain the World Government to me?" Rayleigh's eyebrows immediately rose halfway to his hairline and Midoriya scrambled to elaborate, "I um… I didn't want to say this b-but I don't… I don't remember… anything."
"You don't remember anything?" he repeated, his eyebrows still sky high, "As in memory loss?"
Midoriya nodded, letting the man gather his thoughts and lead the conversation forward with his own assumptions. During his time on the streets, he hadn't had to interact with very many people, but the Vestiges had decided to teach him several necessary skills. Or rather, the odds and ends of skills that they deemed necessary. ("Banjo! Don't teach him that!" "What? Lying is a super important skill! Don't blame me, Second and Third both agree with me!")
His heart ached as he longed for the previous users' commentary. He hadn't realized how much their banter and advice had kept him going, but he couldn't do anything about it now, so he steeled himself and focused on his current objective.
Was he any good at lying? Not particularly, aside from lying by omission. But he could at least let others direct the conversation so he could limit how much information he offered up.
The man thought for a moment, scratching at his beard as he considered what to say next. It took everything Midoriya had to stay still and keep his eyes wide and clueless.
"Hmm, if you don't remember anything, then how do you know your name is Deku?" Rayleigh wondered aloud, pondering his own question for a moment before shaking his head.
The boy internally sighed in relief that he hadn't been expected to answer.
"Well I suppose that doesn't matter. Your combat techniques are probably all muscle memory if I had to guess. You said you know nothing?" he clarified.
All it took was a nod and a small frown and Rayleigh sat down with a gentle sigh to begin explaining the fucked up doings of the Government and the Marines. It wasn't in depth in any sense of the word, but it was enough to confirm what Midoriya had suspected (and feared).
The World Government—an odd concept, considering how his world was still fragmented into hundreds of individual countries—was utterly corrupted and not to be trusted, just like the HPSC. Of course, he had a bounty and was wanted by a branch of the government here, so perhaps it had always been a silly, childish hope that he could ask the authorities here to solve his problems for him.
The conversation was enlightening and frightening at the same time. By the end of it, Midoriya felt exhausted. His heart had been tested just from what he'd been told, yet somehow he had the feeling that Rayleigh had avoided the truly ugly truths. While the boy wanted to be mad at the attempt to shield him from the world, he was far too tired to care.
But as Midoriya waited for Rayleigh to get up and excuse himself to go monitor Luffy's practice, the man simply sat there. He waited another moment, another minute, yet neither of them moved.
But then… "Which Devil Fruit do you have?"
Midoriya reflexively froze as Rayleigh stared at him with a glint in his eye yet a relaxed look on his face. He had no answer for that, considering that he hadn't eaten one in the first place. His heart raced as fast as his mind as he scrambled to come up with some kind of response.
His previous search in the book describing different Devil Fruits had offered no single power that fit everything he could do. Sure, he hadn't shown Rayleigh anything aside from his ability to dodge, but Luffy had loose lips and there was no telling what kind of things he had told Rayleigh when the two of them were alone.
Besides, even if he picked one as a cover, it was possible that someone else had actually already eaten it and, as far as he was aware, there was only one of each kind of Devil Fruit in the world at a time so Rayleigh would be even more suspicious. And that was assuming the man wouldn't outright attack him for lying.
"I-I don't-" he fumbled, his hands gripping his shirt tightly before he could stop himself, "I don't know."
Rayleigh simply glanced at him, studying his face without giving away what he thought or felt. Midoriya felt as though his heart was going to burst through his chest. It was almost comical (if it wasn't so pathetic) how he could face down notoriously dangerous villains without breaking a sweat, but a single odd stare from this man was enough to make him regress back to the confidence level he suffered with back in junior high.
For a brief moment, he wondered if this was Conqueror's Haki, if this was the feeling of being overtaken by someone else's willpower, but when the man's eyes slipped shut and a gentle smile graced his lips, the full-body nerves refused to leave.
"I see. I hope you regain your memories soon," the man soothed, his voice smooth and apologetic even as he stared at the boy's face with an odd look gracing his features.
Without waiting for a response—not that Midoriya had one at the ready—the man pushed himself up onto his feet and wandered away.
For a moment, the boy continued to sit painfully still, staring at the man's back as he retreated into the forest. Given the man's demeanor, he quickly came to the conclusion that the fear that had gripped him had nothing to do with Haki. Midoriya was simply at his wit's end with all of his stressors piling up and culminating in a near-breakdown. He'd been putting it off for so long, suppressing everything until it was so far away that it couldn't touch him.
But now wasn't the time for that. He still had things to do. At the very least, he could count this as a success, given how easily Rayleigh had given up the relevant information. He had cemented his decision to avoid going to any kind of governmental authority and gotten his first taste of high-stakes lying.
Despite his discomfort—pure overwhelming anxiety, couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think—he had gained a lot from this one conversation. Or at least, that's what he told himself.
For as much as he wanted to keep others out of his business for their own safety, he certainly didn't feel as though he was ready to handle these things himself. He missed the previous users, his heart ached for their presence, their reassurance. But all he could think about was how pathetic it was that the determination and confidence he had to go it alone was a lie. He had never really been alone in the first place. That realization was crushing as he found himself truly alone for the first time in his short, miserable life.
But then Rayleigh was finally out of his line of sight and Midoriya was able to let out a shaky breath, his lips falling into a dreadful grimace. That conversation could have gone better even though he'd gotten what he had needed from it.
Honestly, it felt as though he'd been going from one fuck up to the next the entire time he'd been in this world. Not only had he immediately made an enemy of the most powerful and extensive organization in this world, but he'd also gained the attention of another powerful group, possibly offended their Captain, and ran away with another influential figure and another, younger Captain that seemed hell bent on becoming his friend.
He had gained a lot of useful information and confirmed other things he'd inferred and suspected for his trouble, but he kept shooting himself in the metaphorical foot. At this rate, he might be stuck in this world for too long.
Back in his world, he'd gotten antsy because All for One had spent so long hidden. Midoriya had been anticipating the final showdown every day for the last week back home. But now, he'd already spent over two weeks in this world: seventeen days, if he wasn't mistaken. It was far too long; he was petrified at the thought of how vulnerable Japan was without his presence. But there was little he could do to rectify it.
All he could do was pray that they were still recovering and scheming away, hopefully too distracted by his disappearance (and by extension, the disappearance of One for All) to attack. Midoriya knew that was wishful thinking, but it was his most optimistic prediction even if it brought him no comfort.
Given his inability to change anything now, he had to focus on keeping himself alive and preparing to search for a way back. That meant dealing with whatever the glance from Rayleigh had meant before it got him killed.
Midoriya nervously palmed his pocket, relief tingling in his chest as his fingers brushed against the smooth object hidden away from prying eyes.
At least his options weren't completely limited. If nothing else, he was grateful that he had previously thought to be prepared.