When Izuku first opened his eyes, he felt like he was floating. The ease at which he grew into consciousness astounded him; like a warm cloud lifting into the realm of the waking world. The last few months of spartan, painful headaches felt less like leaving the dream world and more like joining a new one of nightmares. Without one whatsoever, he felt like a free man.

Though his heart was heavy and his gut was bubbling with nerves, there was a subtle bounce to his step as he did his morning routine. A lightness to his heels made him coast over the floorboards, a deftness to his hand made breakfast a breeze. His body felt loose and limber, making his morning shower trivial. It was like the stars had aligned, his chakras in order.

Without morning training or classes today, Izuku was free to lounge around, chatting with his mother until she left for work. It felt amazing to talk with his mother. With nothing to hide, nothing to downplay, it felt like the first real conversation with her in months. This time, when he kissed her on the cheek and wished her luck at work, he looked into her eyes, throwing his arms around her midriff for good measure.

Then, the inevitable happened. After another two hours of blissful laziness, the clock struck 11:30, his signal to head out to the meeting with Setsuna. Almost in synchronization with the digital clock, a very, very slight pain bloomed behind his eyes. It threw Izuku off, after being free all morning, but he decided to ignore it. The higher powers had given him his vacation, and he wouldn't waste his appreciation on its limited lifespan.

Still, even just leaving the house, it was all quite abnormal. No headache all morning, only to begin when Izuku thought he'd finally get to meet up with his friend with a clear head on his shoulders. It was like the universe wanted to play a joke on him.

He offered a polite chortle. Perhaps it wasn't amusing to him, but to any cosmic overlords, it was only courteous; that's what good guests do, when their hosts try to be funny.

It became even less funny as time went on. When he'd left the house, the pain had been dull, less than a pinprick. Once he'd left his block, however, it'd expanded. Once it grew closer to having a clothesline pin pinching your skin, Izuku had begun to frown. By the time he got to the station, that clothesline pin had morphed into a metal clamp, its teeth dull steel. The train ride was short, yet by the time the car had come to a screeching stop, Izuku was gritting his teeth, holding back a screech of his own.

The dull teeth of that metal clamp sharpened, the hinges morphing into a spring-loaded monstrosity. Climbing up the stairs of the station was treacherous, what with the bear trap biting into him, but he managed. He wasn't even given the courtesy of limping; the awkward motion only jerked his head enough to make fresh waves of pain wash over him. He walked like an automaton made of sugar glass; even the slightest wrong movement was a risk of total destruction.

Walking to their meeting place felt like dragging his feet through the desert, his water supply long gone. His throat grew parched and flemy in one moment, his eyes dazed and hyper-focused the next. It was like he was the living embodiment of slow death; like the guillotine was falling, but gravity was taking its time.

The first step onto the bridge's walking lane felt like his last, yet his body kept moving. Never before had a headache been this debilitating, this mindrendingly destructive. The second step felt more prolonged than all of the preceding steps combined, like he was wading through liquid time. The next wasn't easier, nor the one after that.

When he finally arrived at the intended meeting spot, the walk had taken its toll. Izuku became a dried out husk of a human, drowned to death. He crumpled to the floor, leaning against the rusty railing dividing him from safety and a nauseating free fall. His heart wasn't beating fast, but hard. Powerful, but slothish, like it was pumping sludge instead of blood. The world moved in slow motion, like every bird's wing flap took days, like the rolling waves far below took decades.

He was in this slow world when Setsuna arrived, walking towards him normally, like she was the exception. Like his warped sense of time and space revolved around her and her alone. Perhaps it was a trick of the eyes, but it was like she was glowing, a small golden hue outlining her figure just as the rest of the world had lost its color.

The guillotine may have been halfway through his neck, the bear trap may have taken his leg, and that pinprick may have turned into a rapier splitting his skull in two, but it mattered little when she finally arrived, standing before him.

"Hey." He offered.

[x]

"Fuck." Setsuna said, gripping her right wrist as it spasmed, ruining her eyeliner. A thousand emotions were bubbling in her gut. Anger, for one. She'd been borderline non-function since Izuku asked to meet up last night. Nerves gripped her so fiercely that even doing the easiest of tasks—makeup, eating, even putting on clothes had become demanding.

Anxiety, for another. The sheer fear that'd laced her whole body upon that text had managed to make her throw up her dinner. What did he want? Was he confessing, was he finally throwing her away? It could be anything, but didn't want to hear anything. Her stomach had been doing flips, cartwheels, and corkscrews any time anyone had wanted to "talk" with her, and the last person she wanted those feelings associated with was Izuku.

Her dad had been trying to reach her for months, but she'd slipped out of his grasp each time, never giving him the chance to really grill her. Though her mom had left the task to her father, she still tried to sneak in her own interrogation once in a blue moon. They'd grounded her a few times, but it was all they could do to try and get through to her. Setsuna didn't like being like this; she wished she could just dump it all out, honestly, but she couldn't. It was like her blueprints designed her to bottle it all up, to hide away. Questions made her nervous, and her nerves made her skittish.

Her left hand wasn't her dominant hand, but it wasn't shaking. So, awkward and clumsy, but better than spasming uncontrollably, she managed to wipe away the mess on her eye and try again, this time going for a more simplistic and subtle look. She couldn't manage anything fun today, with such a loose cannon of a hand.

The morning had been like this since she woke up. Her shoulder blades felt raw and hurt in her bed, abused to the point of strain. Still, she forced herself up and did her morning stretches, adding in a single pushup for good measure. It didn't matter how much hurt she piled up onto her body; even a pulled muscle would heal itself in a day or two.

Her shoulders felt like lead, as if some giant man was always following right behind her, pushing down on them at every moment. Her knees ached with each step, sending her stumbling every few minutes. She couldn't bring herself to eat breakfast, with the boiling hot bile in the back of her throat. The following shower was good to her body, but nothing could really dilute the pain in her abdomen, blood seeping out of her like an uncorked wine bottle.

This whole situation wasn't helped by her period, spiraling her already foul mood into something far more abysmal.

Pimples and purple eyebags littered her face, despite her best efforts. Sleep was something that rarely came by, these days. Dreams even less so. It was nothing makeup couldn't fix.

She could barely stand to look at herself in the mirror, but she had to. Meeting with Izuku was special; she couldn't just go haphazardly, ungroomed and filthy. He didn't get to see that side of her; he only deserved her best.

She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling out the occasional knot. Even though she'd showered this morning, her roots were still sticky and oiled, like she'd forgotten to wash. Annoyance welled up in her gut; her hair was freshly bleached again, so her natural roots couldn't hide the grossness of her scalp. Thank the heavens she had a few millimeters on Izuku, so he wouldn't see the top of her head.

Sighing, she stepped out of the bathroom, her phone held loosely in one hand and her bag in another. The little device was about dead; one more call and the phone would black out. She'd forgotten to charge it after scrolling through it all night, trying to keep the dark thoughts at bay.

She slipped past her father eating lunch, not saying a word. It was a bit early, but the man's days had been growing earlier and earlier, waking up and going to bed like some sort of old man. A twinge of guilt went ignored at their lack of farewell.

Not bothering to brace herself, she walked over the hatch, bisecting at the midriff to slow her descent. Though the fall was slow and stylish, the landing was awkward, her kneecap buckling under her.

Though the nerves had been a massive bundle of discomfort since waking up, they only really hit once she walked out her front door. She was walking to a mysterious location, her phone almost dead, with a boy. Without context, the prospect was scary, like she was walking into a disaster waiting to happen. The prospect of it just being Izuku should've comforted her, but it didn't. The mysterious reasoning behind the encounter began to eat at her more and more, anxiety wanting to spill from her stomach onto the pavement.

She kept her walk brisk, trying to keep her mind off the incoming conversation and failing. There was no best-case scenario. Even if he said something sweet or kind, like a confession of his affections, Setsuna thought she might throw up. Everything in and around her felt awful. She was ugly, she felt ugly, and she couldn't hide it today, no matter how much she tried.

Thinking about the worst-case scenario made it even worse. Maybe he'd finally noticed how she clung to him, how she forced him to spend time with her when he obviously could be doing something more productive. How weak and lame she was without him, how much of a leech she was. Her gut was like a python, twisting and crushing her intestines against themselves even as her mind grew more traitorous, whispering all that could go wrong.

Perhaps today would be the last day she ever saw him, or maybe she'd have to keep meeting his eyes, feeling the way she does. Either option seemed tall, foreboding.

The train felt long, stretched out beyond the norm. Her lack of a phone was proving to be more troubling than she thought, cutting out all viable distractions from her anxiety. Missteps, wrong turns, and apprehension filled the walk to the bridge. She'd crossed the bridge plenty of times, but never as a pedestrian. Even the briefest hesitance made her legs quiver; what if she was going to the wrong bridge? What if she got there at the wrong time, or Izuku didn't show up?

Turning the last corner before the bridge, her fears eased. She was being dramatic. It was just a bridge; nothing to be afraid of. Steeling herself, her eyes cut a path to her destination, seeing the tiniest puff of green hair about halfway across. He'd beaten her there. How long had he been waiting?

Actually seeing Izuku was different from thinking about him. It did a number of things to her body, each a paradox to the last. It confirmed she was at the right spot, but it also made the situation a million times more real. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but her stomach dropped like a rock. Her cheeks flushed, but her nails dug into her palm.

The suspension bridge formed a slight arc, like a large hump, while the adjacent pedestrian path was flat. The cars and those walking were on two separate planes, leaving no room to worry about human-vehicle collisions. Halfway across the pedestrian path was an outcropping for tourists, but the safety railings were taller than the average man, leaving them unclimbable.

Her stomach did another flip, thinking about the suicide prevention design. The setting made for an awkward, ominous meeting in her mind. She hoped it didn't turn out like that.

Setsuna hovered, fiddling with her hair and clothes; was she presentable? Had the commute messed up anything? She stood frozen for what felt like ages, obsessing over herself. Could she really do this? There was still time to turn back, after all, enough battery in her phone to call him and cancel.

A million similar thoughts swarmed her skull like gluttonous pests, biting at her most vulnerable places. Through the hurricane of negativity, she felt her heart shift, her hand reaching for her phone to cancel.

It was in her hand before she knew it, her finger hovering over the "Call" button. She didn't know what stopped her, at this moment. Maybe a cold gust of wind, maybe another spasm of her hand; whatever the reason, instead of pressing that button, she hesitated. One second. Two seconds. Five, ten. At fifteen seconds, the phone went dark; dead.

Setsuna sighed.

She marched across the bridge, taking it as a message from the cosmos. At the very least, going would satisfy her yearning to see Izuku. The walk was awkward, full of her anxieties, but she pushed them to the back of her mind. Her fingers trailed against the cold iron of the railings as she walked, realizing the bridge was a bit chilly. As Izuku's puff of green hair grew closer at hand, she felt lighter and heavier, shoulders firmer than ever yet relaxed. The only consistent feeling in her body was her uterus, like an anchor of pain. She latched onto it, holding onto it for stability.

After what felt like the longest walk of her life, she arrived. Looking at Izuku up close brought a whole new host of emotions bubbling than she expected, however. Her personal anxieties faded away, concern evolving in its stead.

Izuku looked like a wreck, even more so than she felt. His eyes were glazed over, dull as they trained onto her form, his eyes tracing the outline of her figure. He was sitting on the filthy ground, seemingly unaware of the muck and grime of the bridge. His hair was slick to his forehead, like he'd just walked out of the rain despite the cloudless sky. His breath came out haggard, uneven and scratchy. Despite all of that, however, the boy seemed to glow somehow. Some sort of brightness shined through his skin, the smallest smile on his lips.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice coming out shredded and dry. Setsuna, as had become common for her, had no clue how to react. What was she to do? Sit with him? That was disgusting, no offense. Stand over him? That sounded so awkward. Her fretting came to an end as the boy suddenly lurched forward, his hand absently grabbing at the railing and pulling himself up. His spine bent like a crone's, his stance as uneven as her own.

"H-hey… w-what's up?" She asked. "A-are you alright?"

"Mmmm… no. No I don't think I am." He replied, turning away from her to look out at the water. She walked over, matching him. Waves were coming in steady, the water a beautiful blue. The walkway rumbled as cars zoomed past behind their heads, wind whipping up behind them. She didn't know what to say.

"I went back to therapy. Shoto asked me to. Made me realize some things." He said, his eyes drawing pictures over the water. It was like he could see things she couldn't, imagine things she didn't.

"O-oh? L-like w-what?" She asked, digging the ball of her foot into the floor. It was odd, to stutter in front of Izuku while he himself wasn't. Then again, everything about today was weird. It was good he'd gone back to therapy. He'd been unwell for a while, no thanks to her.

Izuku didn't answer right away, content to watch his invisible show. She neither rushed him nor exercised patience, her thumbs twiddling and her mouth sealed shut. Whatever had brought this about had been serious.

"Me… you. Being honest, I guess. I don't—I don't fucking know." He muttered, turning to her. "This is long overdue, Set."

Heat flushed to her cheeks as he knelt before her, taking her hand in a princely fashion. What was going on? He pressed his forehead to her knuckles, sweaty bangs and all. She couldn't bring it out of herself to care, mesmerized by his action. Was he—?

"I'm sorry."

The millisecond illusion broke, reminding her of his downtrodden state. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, unbidden and unwelcome.

"W-what? Why are you sorry?" She asked, her voice an inch above a whisper. He leaned his forehead harder against her hand, still holding it.

"It's my fault, isn't it? Everything you do. You… you're pushing so hard, too hard, and it's hurting you. It's my fault. I just didn't want to see it."

It hurt. That was all she could understand, in the moment. His words hurt, and she wanted that pain to go away. She didn't mean anything by what she did next, but that didn't excuse it. She ripped her hand free of his, stumbling away from him.

"What the—fuck, what the fuck? D-do… Do you really think—no! No!" She said, scrambling further and further away. Anything but this, she thought. Anything.

Her mind flicked to her father, all those months ago, confronting her after a late dinner with the Midoriyas. She thought of all those sleepless nights she spent, aching and lonely. Of all the time she'd spent going out of her way for others, of trying to be better.

"You… you don't get to say that! I'm fine!" She said, throwing an accusatory finger at him. His disheveled state seemed to wither with it, his eyes widening and lips parting.

"Set…" He whispered, before letting his voice raise. "Please don't do this. You—you're not well. Just… listen—"

"No! You're the last person I want to hear this from! Everything I do… everything is for—" She cut herself off, before she exposed herself. For you. Every anxiety, every nerve she'd been juggling since last night came rearing to the front, sending her spiraling even deeper.

"You don't need to! There's more to life than slaving away to heroism!" He continued, his hoarse voice growing into a yell. Even to her rebellious body, she could see how the scream somehow hurt him, literally. Like yelling physically ailed him, like it drained him of life. His shoulders twitched just before they tensed, his hands slapping against his ears as if he was trying to keep something crammed within. Blood trickled out of his nose at the effort.

Terror gripped her, but also righteous anger. Concern was drowning her, but her fear was a snorkle.

"You can't say that! You can't, you can't, you can't! You're such a hypocrite! You push harder than anyone, work harder than anyone! Why can't I?" She begged, pulling her crude pointing finger back to her chest, gripping her hand like letting it loose would spell the end of the world.

"Because it's—ack," Izuku began, forced to stop by a wet cough. "It's all I am, all I'm good for! You're amazing, Setsuna, you're so much more me! I'm just a shell, and I need to destroy myself every day to even be half the person you are! It's not healthy to be like me!"

Every word felt like a hammer blow, like an insult. Was he being ironic?

"What do you mean I'm more than you? What the fuck does that mean? Do you even understand how much work I put in just to fall short of you? Do you even understand in the slightest how it feels to stand next to someone braver than you, better than you? Do you think it's "healthy" to know for a fact that I'll never amount to you, and still be trapped in the same future? How will I be able to call myself a "hero" when you're standing next to me!?"

Whatever damage she'd taken from his words, whatever insult he'd inflicted, even unknowingly, paled in comparison to what she just said. Just with her eyes, she could see how his entire body locked in place, the way every muscle on his face strained against each other.

"That—that's the thing, you… you're not trapped. Not like me. You're more than a hero, Setsuna, you're a good person. You don't need—ptui," he paused, spitting a wad of blood out of his mouth as it rolled down from his nose, "to be a hero to be a good person. You just are. You're better than me like that." He whispered, exhausted.

The tears welling up in the corners of her eyes threatened to fall, sitting on the edge between crying and staying strong. Izuku shuddered, his hand rubbing circles into his temples.

"You—you can't know that. You're so…" Setsuna said, her voice cracking right before a sob. Izuku shook his head, staring at her shoes, unable to raise his head.

"I do. This whole… blonde thing was a symptom, right? Well I just need you to know that it was unnecessary. You were amazing as you were, Set, green or blonde."

She couldn't help the way tears stained her cheeks, or the way her eyeliner fell away with it.

"W-what… What if I'm not that person anymore? What If this new me is worse than the one you first met?" She asked, her voice airy and empty, apprehension filling every inch of her lungs. She thought about the way she'd been hiding things from her parents, the way she'd kept all these feelings locked up in a cage. She thought about how what she'd been doing, at the end of the day, was lying.

"She isn't. I promise. You don't need to lie to yourself to be a good person. Just be you."

Then Izuku cried out in agony, and the world exploded.

[x]

"Just be you." He said, blinking away the pain as a thousand hammers bludgeoned his mind, stabbing him with a million swords. Every word was a truck rolling over his skull, every sentence like a head-on collision with a train.

Even then, he'd pushed past it, all for the sake of getting his point across to Setsuna. She deserved her pride returned, her character praised. Even this magnificent pain wasn't worth stopping, worth leaving Setsuna feeling the way she was.

He thought he was on the home stretch, that he'd gotten through to her, that they could go home happy. He was wrong.

His world, sluggish and slow for everything except Setsuna, froze. His vision dulled, growing blurry and grayscale. The tears rolling down Setsuna' cheek paused, her animated show of emotions grounding to a stop alongside the rest of the world. It was like a god had plucked him out of time itself, allowing him a glimpse from a fourth-person perspective.

The pain, along with time, also slowed to a stop. It was an odd sensation, feeling pain "slow" instead of stop, but that was what it was. Like slowing down a video so much that you could count the frames, and then slipping between the gaps.

He was in a blurry world of gray, stuck between seconds, and scared.

"You might be the toughest nut to crack I've ever seen, or maybe just the stupidest. How the fuck did you manage to avoid an anuerysm, at the very least? Please, I'm curious." A masculine voice said from behind him. Izuku felt his jaw go slack, his unbeating heart fluttering in his chest. He turned slowly, as if the voice came from a dream and turning too fast would wake him up.

It was his head he saw first; bald and reflecting the sun like a mirror. Then the goggles, and the square jaw. The open leather jacket hanging around his broad shoulders; the combat boots.

"F-five? Is that you?" Izuku asked, his voice unbelieving. He hadn't seen Five, let alone the other vestiges, since seeing Nana on the train. Five, otherwise known as Banjo, threw him a thumbs up.

"Sure as shit, Nine. Good seeing ya."

"W-w-what are you doing here? What is this place? I'm not asleep, am I? Where're the others? What about—"

"Woah! Settle down kid. Castle's still up here," Five said, pointing a thick finger up to his temple. "We're… well, I guess you could say we're in the moat."

Izuku stared at him, incredulous. He glanced at Setsuna, blurry and mid-sob. He wondered if she could see this.

"Moat? I don't remember having a moat." He said. Five huffed, shrugging his shoulders.

"Fine. More accurately we're inside a mix of One for All's heart and a fraction of Four's quirk. Shit's been overloading you for ages now. No clue how you're still alive; if I was going through all that, I'd probably have committed by now. Been trying to reach out for a while; I got close last year, but I guess you just weren't ready." Five said, flippant. Then he twitched, looking over his shoulder to something Izuku couldn't see.

"Oh. Uh-huh. Yeah? Fine. Whatever, dawg, hop off." He said, talking to the nothingness beside him. Izuku could only stare, flabbergasted.

"Alright, Bossman called. Said we only got a few more seconds left, so listen up, capiche?"

"O-okay?" Izuku said, beyond confused. The world around them was starting to unfreeze, regaining its color and motion at a snail's pace. Behind Banjo's head, a light was starting to bloom.

"Nana fucked up, reaching out like she did. Messed up our whole order; not that Six giving you his quirk was much of a help. Basically, you've had mine and Four's quirk for a while now, you just weren't ready for 'em. Mine is Black Whip. Gnarly energy whips you can control with your mind if you assert some dominance. Four's, on the other hand, is a little… different." He said, the world gaining speed and color faster. The light blooming behind Five's head wasn't close, he realized; it was a trick of perspective. It was on the other side of the bridge. A quick glance around revealed it wasn't the only one. It was happening all over the bridge, as well as directly above them.

"Danger Sense gives you a heads up on, y'know, danger. Unfortunately, according to the quirk, you are about to be in a lot of that. One told me to remind you that it's gonna all catch up with you the second we return to the real world, so hold onto the edge of your seat, Nine. It's about to be a rough ride." Five finished, before dissolving into a black whisp that seeped into Izuku's skin.

Izuku had the briefest moment to realize those blooming lights were explosions before it happened.

All the pain hit him at once, squeezing a scream out of his throat. Overhead, the bright light of a bomb went off, tearing through the concrete and iron of the bridge keeping them safe. He couldn't react. His body couldn't catch up with his mind, the pain dulling his reactions into nothing. All he could do was stand there as a massive chunk of concrete cracked and began tumbling down to where he was standing.

"Move!" A shrill scream echoed across the walkway as Setsuna tackled him to the side, saving him just as the concrete slab tore through the spot he was standing, metal and all. Blood, he realized, was all over him; but it wasn't from his own body.

One of Setsuna's legs was gone from the calf down, stolen by the slab. For a brief moment, he froze. The image of a tree flashed through his mind, bloudstained knuckles and grief so thick in the air it could've been yogurt. He threw up, his breakfast splashing across the walkway.

It was All Might all over again, his blood a crimson wine in the chalice of his palms. All for One stood over him, the dimples on his cruel cheeks digging deep into his skin as he smiled. Helicopter blades filled his ears, bile filled his throat. EMT's staring at him, aghast.

Then it all fell away, a spike of pain striking his head as the walkway beneath him groaned, structurally unsound. The headache kept him grounded, kept him lucid just enough to remember himself.

Setsuna sprawled over his chest where she'd tackled him, unconscious. His vomit had touched her hair, but that was the least of their worries. Setsuna—she might not heal from this. Neither of them knew what happened when she lost such big limbs, when they were destroyed rather than lost. There was a chance she'd be okay, and there was a chance she wouldn't be.

His hands were shaking, but he rolled the girl off his chest, ripping his shirt off his chest in the same motion. With only one arm, tearing the piece in two felt impossible, but Setsuna was bleeding out, and if he didn't do anything soon—

He bit into the shirt, shredding it with his hand. Overhead, flames were beginning to lick down the supports, screams filling his ears. His heart was beating like crazy, his mind going in and out of focus as both real and phantom blood covered his hands. Using the shirt like a rope, he tried tying a knot around her calf, cutting off as much blood loss as possible. The task was haphazard, poorly done, and wouldn't last, but it managed to delay her death for a few more seconds as he gathered his breath.

The girl groaned, coming in and out of consciousness. Izuku wracked his brain, trying to think of what to do. Everything was so wrong—what the fuck was happening? Why them? How? Why? Why?

An epiphany hit him, lurching him out of his stupor. Overhead another small explosion went off. A car crashed somewhere, and someone was screaming for help. He gripped the girl by her shoulders, shaking her awake. The girl's eyes cracked open but stayed unseeing. Gritting his teeth, he started shouting.

"Wake up, Set! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" He continued to shake her, almost tempted to slap her awake. "Disconnect your leg! Bisect it at the knee!" He screamed.

The girl's eyes fluttered, foggy but almost awake. More, she needed more.

"C'mon, Set! We can—we can go to that museum you used to rave about, or the arcade!? Doesn't that sound fun!? I'll do anything you ask, if you just wake up. Anything you want in the world! Just pop your leg off!" He cried, cupping her cheeks. A light seemed to gleam in her eyes, of primal understanding. Perhaps she heard him, perhaps she did it by instinct, but everything below the knee popped off.

The blood loss ceased almost instantly, the girl's pale features stabilizing.

"Alright, kid, good work. Now listen," the voice of Five tickled in his ears. "Heroes are on the way, but what these people need isn't help in ten minutes. They need help now. Can you do that?"

Izuku staggered, surprised. He wanted to question how Five was speaking, but he didn't. It was like Setsuna's health stabilizing calmed his raging nerves, pushing his confusion to the back of his mind.

"I-I think so."

Overhead, a portion of the bridge groaned. Though he couldn't see it, he could almost feel the way the pavement was cracking, the supports withered away by the explosion. The driver's seat of a nearby car had collapsed, crushing the driver against the steering wheel; the airbag had failed. Across the bridge, almost two dozen cars had crashed, and the bridge was weak enough in three separate spots to collapse if a car drove over them.

Blood spurted out of his nose as his mind became overloaded with knowledge. Four people were dead; seventeen had broken a bone. One woman was dangling off the edge with a newborn. Two cars were teetering over the ledge, a single gust of wind enough to push them over if nature became cruel. Gas was leaking out of an oil tanker, slow pooling closer and closer to the lingering flames of the farthest explosion.

"Woah, relax kid, Narrow it down, keep it simple. Focus on yourself first, then expand from there. Are you in danger?" Five whispered. Izuku floundered for a moment, unsure of what he meant, before he felt it.

Now that he was aware of it, it was almost insulting. Like a knob in the back of his mind, it was so present that he could almost reach out and touch it. Gripping it like a dehydrated man does a water bottle, he twisted it, closing his connection to the outside world.

Immediately, the pain receded. The part of the pedestrian walkway they were on was unstable, if there'd been a third person, or even if they'd been adults, it would've collapsed under their weight. That was it. It was all he could feel; no pain, no overstimulation. If not for the four dead, he might call this bliss.

His limbs felt like lead and ice and fire and everything terrible, but he slipped his arms under Setsuna's prone form, picking her up bridal style. He wasn't sure what to do with her bloody nub, so he rested it against where their torsos met, keeping it safe. Blood had already ruined her shirt, so no need to worry about that.

Flaring his nostrils and opening his lungs wide, he launched himself into the air with Smokescreen. It took more energy than usual with the extra load, but without the debilitating headache, it was manageable. It didn't matter to him that using his quirk was a crime, nor did it matter that all he could see was fire and destruction. He twisted the knob a bit, expanding by a few feet in any direction. Finding a true safe spot for his friend was impossible, but he wouldn't settle for anything but the best. It took him a few seconds of propelling around, but eventually he found a good, stable spot that was far away from either fire or weak infrastructure.

"Good, good. Can you find that woman again? The teetering cars?" Five asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Izuku nodded; the quirk seared the knowledge into his brain. Turning it off wasn't nearly enough for him to forget it. He placed Setsuna down, brushing her bangs out of her face, cupping her cheek for a moment.

She saved him, and he was leaving her. A deep shame slithered through him before Danger Sense crushed it, reminding him of the ongoing peril. Everyone around him needed help, and needed it urgently, yet his feet felt rooted to the spot, like abandoning her would ruin her.

"Come on!" Five whisper-shouted, mentally tugging him in the opposite direction. Izuku's headache spiked again as the quirk forcibly reminded him of the situation, of the dangling woman, of the teetering families.

"Fine!" He roared, bending down and giving Setsuna's forehead a chaste kiss. "Forgive me; I'll be right back."

Not wanting to waste more energy flying, Izuku ran over to where he'd last felt the woman, dodging crashed cars and burning flames alike. Without his shirt, he couldn't use a makeshift ventilator, so he just plugged his nose and hoped for the best.

A burning jungle of mangled cars and shattered concrete was between him and the woman, the difficult terrain slowing him as he rushed to her. He'd never been more thankful for the obstacle course training.

Blitzing around one final abandoned car, he spotted a pale hand clinging to the side, bloody and rubbed raw.

"Hey! Give me your hand!" He yelled over the roar of the nearby flames, surprising her.

"Oh, thank god! Take my baby, take him quickly!" She said, ignoring his offer and shifting the newborn up for him to grab. Grabbing the baby was hard without two arms, but forgoing its comfort, he was able to lift it to safety via its shirt. In the brief moment of securing the child, however, the woman's hand slipped a bit.

"C'mon, gimme your hand!" Izuku yelled as the woman relaxed, her strength failing her.

"Take him… far away from here…" She said, before her fingers slipped entirely.

"No! Izuku screamed, vaulting himself over the edge after her. His mind was screaming as she fell—he couldn't catch her in time.

"Use me! Dig deep and scream!" Five yelled in his ears as wind whipped past his eyes. He didn't have time to think, to feel out how the power worked. He let One for All roar in his stomach, taking his mental fingers and gripping the power's very core, ripping free what he needed in the moment. Whatever came out of his lips next was irrelevant, but to an outsider's ears, it was like a wild animal.

Black energy burst out of the tips of his fingers faster than he could blink, circling the woman before she fell even half way down. His animalistic scream was cut short as he suddenly inhaled, ejecting enough Smokescreen to stop and reverse their momentum, taking them back up.

He was coughing as they flew back up to the bridge, having breathed in too much exhaust. Setting the dazed woman beside her baby, Izuku tried to let go, but found the quirk wouldn't release her.

"C'mon, c'mon…" Izuku said as he strained against the wildness of the quirk, trying to tame it. After a few moments of furious conflict, he settled for cutting off One for All entirely, killing their energy source. The tentacles dispersed into ether around the woman, allowing her to scoop up her baby. She checked the infant over for any injury, and finding none, settled for staring at Izuku, transfixed. Her eyes narrowed in on his amputation, lips parting as if to say something, but only air came out. She pulled the baby closer to her bosom, never taking her eyes off him.

"Uhm, I gotta, uh, go… Please get to safety." He said, backing away from the mother. His words seemed to break some sort of spell. Exploding into motion, she rushed him down, pulling him into a deep embrace. He couldn't do anything but reciprocate, despite the ticking clock of everyone else's danger. It wasn't the first person he saved—but it was the first by his power alone.

"Please, I'll never forget you. Thank you… thank you so much. Is there anything I can do for you? Please, thank you so much…" She said, whispering into his ear. The baby between them squirmed, a low cry escaping it. Uncomfortable, Izuku slipped out of her grasp, eager to get back to moving, before an idea struck him.

"My friend—she's injured, and I laid her out over there," Izuku said, pointing over to where Setsuna was vaguely. "Can you get her off the bridge? Please, she needed an ambulance."

"I'll—I'll try. What will you do?"

"Someone needs to save those who're trapped or too injured to walk. Until the heroes get here, I need to do everything I can." Izuku said, before pivoting into a full blown sprint, speeding up with the help of Smokescreen. He didn't stick around long enough to hear the woman's reply.

[x]

Tatsumi stared at the empty space where the boy had just been standing, now nothing more than a puff of… smoke? Little Sai wriggled in her arms, reminding her that she had children to take care of. The thought filled her heart with warmth; for a few brief seconds, she thought she'd never have the chance to take care of a child again. Gratitude choked her, tears welling up in her eyes. Wow.

"I think a hero's already arrived." She whispered to herself, before making her way over to where the little lopsided hero indicated.

[x]

AN: Got a critical review, so that's nice. It was another where they didn't read past chapter three though, so it wasn't very informative. Is the beginning really that terrible? Also, the last chapter flopped so hard. I lost six followers in the first hour. I gained them back and then some, but I still only ended up with a netgain of like five followers. The numbers mean a lot to me. I like waking up to see them bigger. It gives this a kind of competitive fun that fuels me. I like to think if I keep this bad boy going for a bit longer I'll hit the big leagues. Prolly not tho lol.

Review! It's a shame the review to finally match my previous record was so negative, but I'm sure one day I'll get a banger. Also, shoutout to Conan, Uz, and Death Fury for the consistency lol. Kings.