Not long after Portgas had left, a pair of nurses shuffled into the room. One looked positively delighted to see him awake—which was odd but Midoriya simply interpreted it as no longer having to take care of him—and the other downright annoyed. In fact, the second nurse had immediately begun ranting about Portgas for not telling them that one of their high-maintenance patients had woken up.

Her words, not his.

"I mean, we had to hear from Pops of all people! Pops asking us to check on our patient like that is just, ugh, it was so embarrassing! It's not our fault our patient chose to wake up only ten minutes after we last checked on him. But now it looks like we weren't doing our job for our guest in front of Pops!" the nurse had ranted as she wandered over to his bed.

The other nurse simply had placated her as she followed, carrying a bowl with broth and a small piece of bread. The smell had done wonders for stimulating his appetite, that was for sure. It had been slightly amusing to watch the nurses do what looked to be a practiced dance of keeping the food out of Luffy's (somehow still sleeping?) grabbing hands as they brought it to his bedside and pulled out some kind of lap desk to set it on.

Once it was out of their careful hands, Luffy's efforts to reach the food had seemed to intensify. What was more amusing was how Danger Sense had activated to warn him of the stray limbs actively making attempts for his food.

Apparently Luffy's appetite was no joke if his attempts were deemed enough of a threat to his well-being (or rather, Luffy's intent was dangerous enough) to activate Danger Sense. He hadn't been able to hide the wince at the familiar pain stabbing his brain, but the nurses seemed to chalk it up to dehydration and supplied him with much-needed water.

They'd also pulled faces when he refused any pain-relievers, but that was neither here nor there.

The nurses, after he'd managed to keep the food away from Luffy's grabbing hands long enough to eat it himself, had then decided to check over his wounds. They'd tugged up the slightly-too-big tank top to unwrap and rewrap some of the bandages around his waist, applying generous amounts of several topical creams on the bruises, rashes, and gashes that littered his whole body. The rest of the check-up had been a bit of a blur, though he'd been a bit embarrassed when they had tugged off the pair of long-pants which he'd only realized he'd had on when they gently pulled his legs out from under the sheets.

Once they had been satisfied (their standards were much higher than Recovery Girl's and he found himself simultaneously grateful and homesick for her care), they'd fluffed his pillow and gently tucked him right back in bed. As they walked out the door, they promised that someone would come get him when it was time to meet their Captain.

He couldn't help the sigh of relief when they finally left, dirty dishes in hand, finally leaving him in peace.

Midoriya wiggled a bit, testing the sheets in the hope that he was imagining the tightness, but nope, he couldn't get free. Somehow, the sheets were tucked much tighter than it had been before, when he'd first woken up. He must have wriggled a bit and loosened it in his sleep or something the first time, because this was just ridiculous.

Although, now that he thought about it, he had probably had a nightmare and jerked around because there was no way he would have been able to loosen these damn sheets with his typical night-time shuffling. If it had been the result of a nightmare, he supposed he was glad that he hadn't activated One for All in his sleep and ripped them clean in half.

But if he was going to get out of bed to search for his backpack like he had planned before Portgas had walked in, he might have to use his quirk anyway! Hell, if the nurses hadn't made it clear that he was a guest of sorts, he would have assumed that these sheets were meant to restrain him!

With a sigh, Midoriya shimmied himself upward once more until his back was flush against the headboard: a much easier feat given his arms weren't trapped underneath the confines of the linens this time. Now sitting upright, he tugged at the tightly tucked sheets that were keeping him snug in bed. His arms shook a little from the effort, but he paid it no mind, just as he hadn't last time. He'd had plenty of experience to get a feel for whether his limbs were merely tired or actually about to give out on him.

The first week or so of crime-fighting with a few breaks and minimal rest were enough to leave that deep-seated bone-weary exhaustion that lingered. Even after perfectly timed power naps—scattered in between scuffles and scrapes with escaped villains and scared civilians—there was little recovery to be had. It was in the last few days (or had it been weeks? He wasn't entirely sure…) that his body began to truly fail him.

So now, feeling lighter than he ever had before despite that exhaustion which still plagued his weary body, he knew this was much closer to the former than the latter. Plus, now that he'd eaten a bit, he knew he would be on his way to recovering some of his strength. Perhaps some of his wounds would finally heal as well, now that he wasn't straining himself and tugging them back open. He couldn't ignore the way they tugged as he shifted positions and stung even as he remained still.

Midoriya took a deep breath to focus himself on something other than the pain, only to wince as his chest protested. A glance down revealed an unhealed, but definitely days old bruise peaking out from under the slightly-too-large tank top that wasn't his. His breath hitched at the realization, causing pain to flair up all over his front. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before pulling the neckline of the top away to reveal dozens of similar bruises littered all over his chest.

Honestly, he had no idea where he had gotten them, much like the many other scars, scratches, and scrapes that littered his entire body. Was it from that fight with the villain with the giant transformation quirk at the port? Or had it been that from the hits of the crowd of civilians, controlled by the most recent assassin?

Either way, he released the fabric and let his arm fall into his lap, tracing the outlines of his surgery scars in favor of thinking about his mystery injuries.

Actually, on the topic of his arms, there was another thing he couldn't help but notice. He wasn't sure if it was the lengths of time he spent on the streets with minimal food or the time he'd been asleep, but his muscles had atrophied.

(He waited for the typical correction: "No food, kid, not minimal food. You didn't eat at all," only to frown when he was met with silence instead.)

His left arm was visibly (though only slightly) less bulky than his right. He couldn't help but wonder if it was because his exhaustion caused him to rely on muscle memory and instinct, ultimately pushing him to rely significantly more on his dominant arm. There was no way to know for certain, but the effects were undeniable.

He took another deep breath and tugged the fabric until he was able to pull his legs out from underneath. It was a bit embarrassing at how much difficulty he was having with such a simple action. In what was such a short time frame (though to him, he would openly admit that it felt as though it had dragged on forever), he went from the peak of physicality to breathing heavily from pulling his legs to his chest.

But he put his self-pity aside and gave himself a moment to catch his breath before kicking his legs off the side of the bed. Apparently, he put a little too much force in the motion, as the momentum dragged his whole body off the mattress as his feet slammed into the wooden planks beneath him.

Finally out of bed, heart pounding and vision fizzling out from standing up so quickly, Midoriya glanced around once more.

This secondary cursory glance around the room, once his vision returned in full, revealed similar results to the first: no sort of electrical outlet nor any of his things in sight. He frowned and wondered if it was being kept elsewhere, but given the straw-hat hanging off of the bedpost at the foot of Luffy's bed, the boy hoped his things would also be nearby.

Biting his lip, Midoriya gripped the side of the bed and slowly sank to his knees. He grimaced as his vision threatened to fuzz out again, but he ignored it in favor of tipping himself to the side. The boy peaked under the bed, his grip tightening as he strained to keep himself from falling over completely.

Just as he'd suspected, he was met with the sight of his no-longer-bright yellow backpack, resting underneath the bed, deliberately leaned up against the bedpost. He sighed in relief and straightened himself back upright before reaching under and dragging his backpack out from under the furniture. He released a sigh and his death grip on the bed frame, dragging more than lifting the familiar object onto his lap.

Midoriya unzipped his bag, his fingers brushing over his ragged costume that had been laid on top of the rest of his things. It had clearly been treated with care: newly cleaned with the worst of the holes and tears stitched back together. It was odd to see it such a vibrant green after the many weeks he'd worn it while reddish-brown from the mud and blood he'd accumulated. He also appreciated how someone had it neatly folded and tucked in his bag just so to keep the zipper from catching on the worn fibers.

The gloves were suspiciously missing, but after a moment of thought, he assumed they had been thrown away. They had been all but shredded, after all. The white, hero-grade fabric had many rusty brown stains, so it was good riddance. If he'd still had his Air Force Gloves, maybe he would be upset, but at this point he was simply glad to still have the rest of his equipment. His main suit, belt, the Mid-Gauntlets in their compressed form (although they were still broken from his fight against Lady Nagant, so he doubted he would be able to put them back on), and his steel-tipped boots were all he needed to keep going.

With a soft sigh, Midoriya gently lifted the costume and all his other equipment out of the bag. His hands lingering in the air as he let the swell of emotions wash over him, his chest burning with emotions he was unable to name. After the brief pause, the boy forced himself to remove it fully and set it—and his emotions—aside, instead rustling through his bag in search of his phone. He pushed the items around, ignoring the medical supplies haphazardly strewn about in favor of reaching towards the bottom. He had initially expected it to be on top, but it wasn't impossible that the sturdy, heavy object would have made its way to the base of the bag.

He bit his lip when his hand brushed along the entire bottom of the bag and came up empty. Midoriya retracted his hand and began removing the miscellaneous objects, dropping them in a pile to the side as his heart began to pound faster and faster. Unused bandages, half-empty ointments, and batteries were all thrown aside as he frantically dug through his backpack.

It had to be in the bag, it had to.

When he removed the last object, his lips wobbled dangerously. But he couldn't allow himself to cry. This was not the time to cry. He had things to do and he was going to meet this intimidating Captain who likely had a great deal of power and influence. He couldn't do this right now.

The boy deliberately took slow breaths, ignoring the way they shook and shuddered. He had to think.

He thought he had put his Hero-Grade Mobile Device in his backpack before going to the hideout that Lady Nagant had told them about. After that, he rarely checked it. Then when he left All Might, he refused to take it back out again.

But then again, everything was a bit of a blur. He might have removed it at some point or it could have fallen out in the middle of a fight. His chest twinged at that thought, and he quickly turned his backpack upsidedown to check for any holes in the material, luckily finding none, though it did nothing to calm his fraying nerves.

If it wasn't in his backpack, perhaps he put it in one of the pouches of his costume? He could only hope that the people letting him stay on their ship hadn't gone through his things. If they had taken the phone or any of his gear…

Midoriya shook his head.

No, he couldn't think like that right now.

He abandoned the backpack—tossing it on top of the pile of discarded supplies—and reached for his neatly folded costume. He dug into each of the front pouches, exposed by the way the suit was folded, only to come up empty. The fabric unfolded as he lifted it up in the air. He turned it over on his lap and scoured the backside waist pouches.

As he gripped the second to last one, he froze in relief. It was solid. He pulled the flap open and finally let out a sigh of relief.

His feet slid out from under him to opposite sides as his whole body relaxed, his ass settling on the wooden floor. He ignored the way his knees twinged from rotating awkwardly, instead letting himself revel in the relief from locating the device. Taking a moment to rub his eyes, Midoriya let himself decompress a bit before he worked himself up once more.

Midoriya sighed as his gaze shifted to the side, his eyes latching onto the mess of a pile he had made in his frantic search for the device. Reluctantly, he set the phone aside and picked at the pile, beginning the tedious task of repacking the supplies. Since he had a bit of time, he figured he might as well reorganize the bag. He hadn't bothered to treat any of his injuries in the past few weeks, much less eat, so the jumble of objects hadn't been an issue.

But he had promised himself that he would do better going forward, so having an organized backpack was a necessity. Plus, he would need to make sure he had room for food in his bag. He couldn't rely on All Might, Endeavor, Hawks, or Best Jeanist directly anymore (at least, not without putting them in danger), so he would have to handle himself on his own.

Plus, the dirty bandages were the furthest thing from sanitary. To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure that they had been used in the first place. It was possible that they had simply gotten dirty from all the times the boy had rustled through his bag after going weeks without cleaning himself.

Either way, the bandages needed to go.

Pushing them into their own separate pile, Midoriya began to methodically place the remaining supplies back in the bag. He tucked the small ointments and creams in the pockets and smaller zippered pouches and left the more common supplies in the main compartment. Then he refolded his now-clean costume and placed it back on top.

With a sigh, he pushed the bag back under the bed and grabbed the phone. Unfortunately, as expected, when he attempted to turn the device on, it remained as dead as a doornail. He reached back under the bed to pull out the bag, slipping the phone into the front pocket and re-zipping it. He slid it back under and let himself lean against the bed frame with a tired, exasperated huff.

"What are you doing on the floor?"

Midoriya froze, turning to glance at the now-open door, once again met with the sight of Portgas standing awkwardly in the doorway. How had he been taken by surprise twice?

"Uh, don't worry about it…?" he blurted out, reassuring himself with the fact that Danger Sense hadn't warned him about Portgas' presence. That implied that Portgas meant Midoriya no harm, so he was safe. (The words felt like a lie, even as he desperately tried to convince himself it was the truth.)

He pushed himself to his feet—groaning at the way his knees protested the movement—and turning fully to face the newly familiar face.

"You weren't joking about Luffy trying to eat any food brought into the room," Midoriya huffed, trying to clear the awkward atmosphere and shove aside his own nerves.

Portgas simply laughed, "Sorry about that. He's always been like that. I'm sure we can get you something else later!"

Midoriya couldn't help the small, amused smile that tugged at his lips. It took him several moments to realize what he'd done, caught up in the odd way his face was tugged, focused on how foreign it felt until it clicked and his heart ached.

When was the last time he'd smiled?

"Well, if you're ready, Pops is ready to speak with you," Portgas replied, ignoring Midoriya's odd pause.

"Ah well, we've technically already spoken," he couldn't help but correct his misunderstanding, "But yes I'm ready."

Ace grinned for a moment before it slid into something more wary, "Good! Great. Uh, that's great."

Midoriya wondered what Portgas knew that he didn't, but he kept his worries to himself. This wasn't the time to expose his suspicions. Instead, he simply followed the man out the door, leaving Luffy and the stifling, quiet room behind them. The boy instinctively grimaced when Portgas shut the door behind them and it clicked, locking automatically. But by the time Portgas glanced back at him, Midoriya schooled his expression back into a friendly neutral.

Or rather, he hoped it was friendly. Or neutral.

It was a bit odd that they had an automatic locking mechanism but no electricity: the lack of which he'd noticed with wandering eyes as they strode through the hallway (presumably below deck). The only light source in the room had been several well-placed lamps and the hallway was no different, with the exception of a few windows.

As they walked, Portgas ("I thought I told you to call me Ace!") chattered about anything and everything regarding his crew, leaving Midoriya struggling to keep up a litany of replies. Apparently they would be meeting not only the captain, but also the First Mate/Division Commander. It had caught him by surprise that they had divisions, but thinking back to the battle he'd crash-landed into, there had certainly been enough people to warrant it.

Then Portgas—Ace—had proudly proclaimed that he was the Second Division Commander himself (he seemed a bit young, but Midoriya had no room to comment, given his own predicament). Overall, the boy found himself grateful that Ace was content to prattle on about himself and his crew rather than asking questions about him. Midoriya couldn't afford to trust, nor could he afford to let them get close to him. Either way, questions about him only held negative consequences.

Although, he found it especially odd how little Ace spoke about the crisis currently going on in Japan. That was to say, he hadn't mentioned it at all. Instead, he grumbled about government bastards and stupid marines, which was interesting. Midoriya himself couldn't claim to have much faith in the government either, given the circumstances, but something felt very… off about his commentary.

Instead of leading him back onto the deck, as he'd been expecting, Ace stopped in front of another door. He spared Midoriya a glance, if only to silently confirm with him that he was ready to proceed, before knocking on the door.

The pounding reverberated slightly in the silence and was met with a gentle, but still commanding, "Come in."

Ace opened the door and the pair entered. He found himself standing awkwardly in front of three taller men: one was the giant man—the Captain, if Midoriya wasn't mistaken—whom he'd protected just days prior and the blonde man with the bird (or was it phoenix?) quirk. The third man was one he didn't recognize, large and with blue skin. He appeared to have some kind of aquatic mutation quirk, though the boy couldn't even begin to guess what type of animal he was.

"Oh, Jinbei, I didn't realize you'd be here too!" Ace grinned at the blue-skinned man, genuinely friendly, which set Midoriya a bit more at ease.

"Indeed, I asked for his presence, so that our guest may have a few more familiar faces aboard our ship," the giant man smiled, the fondness practically oozing from his gaze as he met Ace's eyes.

It was… certainly odd, but Midoriya had heard the nurses—as well as Ace—call their Captain Pops. He wasn't one to call them out on their over-familiarity.

"That's a great idea!" Ace cheered. (Midoriya absentmindedly wondered if that was what he had been like before the failed offensive against the joint Shigaraki and Paranormal Liberation Front. It was… a bit annoying to be on the receiving end of it. He couldn't help but wonder why his classmates put up with him.)

"Let's begin with introductions," the phoenix man suggested, "I'm Marco, the First Division Commander."

"And you already know me, Ace! The Second Division Commander, though I guess I also already told you that, haha!"

Midoriya nodded and glanced towards the man with the mutation quirk.

"I am Jinbei, not a member of this crew, but an ally and a Captain of another crew."

The boy couldn't help the little confused downturn of his lips, but kept himself from questioning further. Another Captain of another crew? Odd…

"And I am Edward Newgate, the Captain. What might your name be, boy?" the Captain boomed. Midoriya couldn't help but notice the raised eyebrows of the other three men. He had no clue why they were surprised by a man introducing himself, but he abandoned the train of thought as quickly as it arose. The man had prompted him, he couldn't keep him waiting.

Midoriya opened his mouth, about to let his full name roll off his tongue before thinking better of it. All for One had sent people after him under the name Midoriya Izuku, not his Hero name, which was odd considering how he used All Might's. Either way, anonymity was preferable. Plus, he should remain consistent, lest he arouse suspicion or garner animosity. After all, he had introduced himself to Ace with his Hero name; there was no reason for him to change that now.

"I'm Deku," he bowed slightly—and half-heartedly, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone else—if only to show his gratitude for their hospitality.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you while all parties are fully coherent and not riding an adrenaline high from the battlefield," Newgate boomed with a pleased smile, "But I'm afraid that we must get down to business."

Midoriya nodded, steeling his nerves for whatever was to come, "I agree."

"We greatly appreciate your help, but I am worried that you helped us while unaware that we are, in fact, pirates. The Whitebeard Pirates, the crew of an Emperor of the Sea."

Midoriya's mind reeled at the revelation. Pirates? Emperor of the Sea? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Before he could make sense of this new fact, the Captain (which was beginning to take on a whole new meaning, holy shit-) pressed onward, "As such, I'm afraid that, even though you were simply acting as a good samaritan in a foreign situation, you are now likely going to be targeted by the World Government."

Marco decided to add his two cents, "I fully expect them to place a bounty on your head in the coming weeks. The execution was originally broadcasted world-wide. I expected the Marines to cut off the feed once things no longer went their way, but according to Haruta—our Twelfth Division Commander—Buggy the Clown kept it going."

"I see," Jinbei interjected, "So you believe that they will paint Deku here as a major threat and put a huge target on his back, all in an attempt to save face for their many blunders."

"Execution…?" Midoriya repeated, still a bit lost on what the major conflict had been about.

"My execution," Ace grimaced, "For being the son of the previous Pirate King. I was caught and handed over to the Marines by that backstabbing bastard: Teach."

So that explained the animosity on both sides of the battle against the man with the Dark Mist quirk. He used to be a part of their crew, betrayed them, and then set himself up to betray the government as well.

"I see," he pressed his lips together in thought, sucking them into his mouth slightly before releasing them. The rolling motion was grounding as he mulled over the situation as he now understood it.

He would never regret saving others, even if they were criminals—pirates?—so this was nothing new. Not to mention having a target on his back was nothing new. It was simply another party going after him. Perhaps in their struggle to reach him, the government and All for One's allies would get into conflict with each other rather than work together. A three-way war was far less complicated when the enemy of his enemy was still his enemy.

It was still him against the world; nothing had really changed.

To these men in front of him, however, this should have been a world-view shattering change,

"You're not worried about having a bounty…?" Ace frowned at him, a dark look overtaking his previously bright features.

This was the exact opposite of what Midoriya so desperately wanted to do. He was meant to reassure people, not make them feel worse. And yes, he may not be worried, given how he already had a target on his back painted by the most dangerous man alive. He'd managed just fine so far, and now that he had promised himself to do better, Midoriya was certain he would be okay.

So he rushed to correct the notion, or rather, frame it in such a way that they were neither suspicious nor concerned, "It's not that I'm not worried. I just… have higher priorities at the moment."

All four of the other men in the room pulled a face at that, each of them would have been comically unique if it weren't for the topic of the conversation at hand. Yeah, his words definitely had the opposite effect of what he had wanted.

Midoriya could help but pause in thought while the others struggled to find the words to dignify his (most likely concerning) nonchalance with a response.

In modern times, there were no pirates. Piracy had long since been co-opted to describe digital theft rather than material crimes. Generally, they were labeled as thieves, criminals, villains, or even gangs. He supposed it wasn't unreasonable to assume that some people might call themselves pirates, but they spoke of pirates as though there were many of them. He supposed it was possible that pirates were rampant and the government or HPSC had covered it up, but that was a bit of a stretch. It would have been more likely that they made a spectacle of it or used it to improve foreign relations.

So he felt safe in his assumption that he had somehow traveled back in time to the age of pirates. Perhaps that was why the government was unrecognizable.

But as far as he knew, there hadn't been real pirates since well before the Dawn of Quirks and several of the people in the room with him seemed to have quirks.

Midoriya was hesitant to discard his knowledge of the origin of quirks. It wasn't so much an unwillingness to edit his understanding of the false history he'd likely been taught, as it was the fact that the history behind One for All and All for One corroborated several details and elaborated on much more than was mentioned in textbooks. Even the previous users had explained a bit more about what their times had been like.

Though, while Third had explained some of the turbulent times and the rebellion of which they had played a part, Second had yet to truly open up about the details. Midoriya had the distinct feeling that it was because he was still legally a child despite being the Ninth and finally earning more and more of his trust. But given how things had been going for him—with the weight of the world on his shoulders and assassins around every corner—it was a silly thing for the man to get hung up on.

Regardless, none of the previous users mentioned pirates in any capacity, not even in passing. Given the instability of the time, the resurgence of pirates seemed like it would have been significant and notable in shaping the Criminal Underground. He wished the previous users would just respond to him, if only to confirm or deny his theories, but they still remained silent.

They had promised to help him and be by his side no matter what, so their continued silence made his chest ache from his collarbones to his pectorals.

Unless…

His eyes widened, creating small aches up his forehead as his eyebrows raised in kind. If he was right, then he (and the whole of Japan, maybe the world) was royally, majorly fucked.

Unless he wasn't in the same world… or… or reality anymore.

There was no overlap between quirks and pirates in history; so that was strike one. This wasn't a one-of and they all but confirmed that there were thousands of pirates here, wherever here was. Which meant that, if he was right, these powers of theirs might not even be quirks. The mutation quirk in front of him may be another species altogether rather than some mutation quirk. Revealing the origin or function of his own power could be risky, he would have to keep quiet about it until he learned more about the powers in this place.

Strike two: they mentioned the World Government. As far as he was aware, there had never been a government that functioned on a global scale which all governments answered to. That only made it more likely that he managed to travel to another world or universe or reality. Not to mention no government had sanctioned bounties on criminals in centuries. He supposed this could be the future (a regressive, post-apocalyptic one, the pessimistic part of his mind suggested), but he had yet to see any electricity, so he put a pin in that theory for now.

The final nail in the coffin was the absence of the previous users.

Maybe…

Maybe they weren't talking with him because they couldn't. Because they weren't there. They were still stuck in the other world, reality, whatever the hell it was.

Clearly Midoriya could still use all of the previous users' quirks, so he still had One for All, but it appeared that the Vestige Realm wasn't exactly within the quirk as they had all assumed. Otherwise they would still be here with him.

Fuck.

Did they simply fade away without his presence, or had the quirk formed some type of pocket dimension? Or were they still linked to All Might and ended up with him? Or more likely, they were all alone in the void and worried about where he went and how they couldn't defeat All for One with him gone. But there was no way to know and everything was going wrong, was wrong, was bad, terrible, a disaster, no nononono-

Everything felt as though it was closing in on him from all sides. The garbled words of the people whom he logically knew were still in the room with him (and perfectly fine) were indistinguishable from his own panicked thoughts.

Yet unlike his usual panic, there was no direct threat, no enemy to steel himself for nor fight against for the safety of himself, his quirk, or other. It was just him, his mind, and the reality and gravity of the situation he found himself in. There was nothing to center his mind, no goal to reach other than the desired calmness that alluded him. At this point, his only tools were his own thoughts, which were far more prone to inducing further panic than any semblance of a return to tranquility.

Which, of course, only he could fuck this up so horribly, even if he still had no idea how he ended up here. Perhaps that was part of the problem itself. Who knew? Not him.

All he could think about was how the world was spinning around him and he was getting a bit nauseous and how was he supposed to fix things when he couldn't even see straight-

A gentle pressure settled on his left shoulder, startling him out of what was no doubt about to become a panic attack at best and a complete meltdown at worst.

"Are you okay?" Ace asked. He must be the one gently holding his shoulder, since the question sounded like it came from right beside him.

Midoriya was a bit too frazzled to look at him, but he nodded. He took in a deep breath, forcing himself to inhale slowly for a count of four, held it for eight counts, and exhaled for eight more. His chest burned at the slow pace, but it was exactly what he needed to get himself together, grounding himself in both the pain and warm grip.

He squeezed his eyes shut for only a second before throwing them open again and forcing his face into a neutral expression.

There was business which he needed to attend to—all of whom were staring at him, no doubt in concern. He couldn't let himself get caught up in uncertainties.

"Yes, I'm alright. Let's get back on topic," he droned out, wishing he had the ability to force some kind of inflection into his voice, yet resigned to the fact that he hadn't mustered such niceties in a while.

Newgate did not seem all too convinced, "Hrm, if you're sure, then we can proceed."

He nodded, tightly pressing his lips together so as to let the others lead the conversation. Keeping secrets was key here.

"I intend to return the favor, on behalf of my sons and myself. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask. You are welcome here for as long as you would like or need," the man frowned a bit, seemingly considering something for a moment before shaking his head.

Deciding against whatever it was?

"Thank you, sir."

"No need for formalities, you are a guest to whom we owe a great debt. Simply call me Newgate," the Captain—Newgate—boomed, somehow managing to make his loud voice reassuring rather than overpowering.

This time, Midoriya thought that he was beginning to understand their surprise. This man clearly held power in the world, with a title of Emperor of the Sea. The man's Pirate name or epithet—not all that dissimilar to a Hero name, if he thought about it long enough—must have been Whitebeard. For a stranger, a child to call him by his real name rather than his title must be a big deal.

Midoriya was simultaneously humbled and surprised by that fact. However, he couldn't deny the truth that their kindness and respect was misplaced in him one way or another. Though to whom it would benefit most, he was still a bit uncertain.

Reluctantly, the boy replied, "If you are sure, Newgate."

This put a smile on the man's lips, but what he said next caught the boy off-guard once more, "Additionally, we are more than willing to escort you to your home and stake it as protected territory of ours, if you have a place to which you wish to return."

Midoriya realized very quickly how significant of an offer that was, given that as pirates, their best defense was mobility and an unpredictable location. When given territory to protect, pirates would be just as vulnerable as any other stationary criminal. Defensive positions are almost always at a disadvantage, this was something that he had known for a while as well as part of his reasoning for leaving UA and going out to look for Shigaraki and All for One. He put himself on the offensive and kept his location as hidden as possible.

Yet this man whose crew had only just escaped a big battle was offering to put not only himself, but his entire crew in a precarious position.

Just for Midoriya.

But even so, it wasn't as simple as accepting or declining his offer. And the fact that the man had picked up on the possibility of Midoriya not wanting to return or simply not having a home to return to made the boy more wary than he had been before.

"I have a home…" he muttered, hoping that his answer would suffice, "But I cannot return just yet. There's something I must do first. I hope it's okay that I take advantage of your hospitality for a little while longer."

Instead of protesting or chastising him, the man closed his eyes and sighed, "That is acceptable. Do not hesitate to ask for anything you need and we will do our best to accommodate. In the meantime, while you are a guest here, we will be quite busy."

Midoriya bobbed his head to convey his understanding, turning to glance over to the blonde—Marco—as he took this as his cue to explain.

"Our crew is currently scattered across dozens of allied ships. We will be busy regrouping and eventually we will commission another ship from Water Seven. If you are still with us at that time, you are still welcome on our new vessel."

Midoriya guessed that Water Seven was either a place or a ship-building business, though he wasn't planning on staying long enough to find out either way.

"I appreciate your hospitality," he bowed one final time, hoping that the conversation could end here. He needed to see if he could gather more information about this… world or reality or whatever the hell new place he found himself in before he could decide what he should do next.

"Great!" Ace cheered, likely interpreting his words as a promise to remain with them for the foreseeable future.

Which, Midoriya supposed, was the truth to some extent.

"Well, um," he shifted, wondering if it was too soon to be asking for accommodations, yet allowing his need for information to override his usual hesitancy, "Do you, um, have books that I could… read? Non-fiction books, I mean. They… help me to relax."

Midoriya could feel Ace's stare beside him, awkwardly avoiding his (well, each of their) gaze by directing his own to the wooden floor.

Instead of making fun of him, as he'd been partially expecting, Newgate let out a hearty laugh from where he sat. The boy's cheeks burned furiously, the red probably reaching the tips of his ears, as his blushes tended to do.

"Of course, Ace can show you to the small study on board," the Captain coughed, ignoring Ace's whispered question as to whether or not they actually had one, "You may take as much time as you'd like, but I'm sure you will be hungry. Jinbei can bring you something from the mess hall and once your lodgings are arranged, Marco will show you where you will be staying."

"Th-thank you sir!" Midoriya squeaked, surprised by the lengths Newgate was going to keep him comfortable. He was relieved that they bought his lie (or rather let it slide for the time being, he chided himself) and allowed him to gather information on his own.

The Captain bid him farewell, as did Jinbei and Marco, only moments before he and Ace said his own goodbyes and the Second Division Commander all but dragged him out of the room.

That went well, almost too well, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth until it tried to bite him.

The old captain frowned at Marco's concerned stare as it lingered on the doorway from which Ace and Deku had just departed. Although neither of them exchanged words, the man easily picked up on what his First Mate was thinking.

"There is something strange about him," the man decided, "Although it is not that I don't trust him, but rather that he does not trust us."

Jinbei hummed, a pensive frown also overtaking his gruff features as he considered the old Captain's words, "You are correct, we mustn't overwhelm him. Making it appear that we aren't supervising and watching his every move is the first step to earning his trust. He has given no reason to doubt him and we must do the same."

"Indeed," Newgate agreed.

They shared no further words on the subject. He simply watched as Marco and Jinbei excused themselves, leaving to attend to their own tasks.

Newgate had to admit that it had been quite the sight—though not a good one—to see how their guest had devolved into a panic. It was surprising and concerning in equal measures how rapidly the boy bounced back from it; a simple hand rested on his shoulder was enough to pull him out of whatever thoughts sent him down a dark spiral. And then he had pushed the conversation back on track with their previous topics, setting aside his own reactions as if that would erase them from the pirates' minds.

Even so, the man couldn't help the smile that quirked at his lips. This felt very familiar; an untrusting boy entering their lives through chance, bringing an untold storm with him yet genuinely capturing their hearts and drawing others to his side before they even knew what that entailed. Yes, Deku would fit in nicely, especially considering how much his situation mirrored Ace's. Their Second Division Commander would be the perfect person to help him settle in, alongside Jinbei's calm, gentle, and reassuring demeanor.

It was only a matter of gaining his trust and helping him defeat his demons, no matter what form they took. The only question was how they were going to do so when it appeared that the boy truly trusted no one but himself.