*Squeals* I'm so pumped to get this chapter out! :) Also... Still loving my growing keychain collection so I'll be posting links to the 'stores' on Etsy that I constantly stalk for new merch XD

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What I've Done

Chapter 4

~Izuku is 13-ish~

"Answer me, damnit!" Tomura hisses loudly, giving me a rough shake to pull me from my thoughts. "What the hell were you thinking about? You shouldn't stare off into space and forget your surroundings; what if I'd been a 'hero' about to attack you, huh?"

I immediately drop from my desk chair to my knees and lower my head with shame. "I apologize, Tomura; I didn't realize I was doing it again."

'Beaming' as Master calls it is one of my biggest problems. When I'm left alone, I start thinking about something and completely disassociate from the outside world. It's great when it comes to passing the time, but Tomura has little patience and has punished me repeatedly for failing to respond to him immediately.

This time he rolls his eyes and musses my hair though. "We're going to see Master about your assignment and I don't have time to teach you a lesson, so I guess I'll let it slide."

I nod and stand, keeping my gaze down while I wait for my instructions.

"Have I told you that you have adorable little elven ears?" Tomura coos distractedly, gently tucking one of my curls behind my ear. His perpetually ice-cold fingers trail down my jawline next until they reach my chin, lifting it up slightly. "Yes, Tomura."

He smiles and runs his thumb across my bottom lip, leaning down to kiss my forehead. Despite his extremities being cold, his breath is anything but; it heats my skin as it washes past his cracked lips. But soon the sensation is gone.

He grabs my hand and starts leading me out of my room, only I can hear him grumbling about how much he hates waiting. I know what he's talking about and dare to speak without permission; if I say the right thing, I'll please him and that is my sole purpose in this life. "I'm sorry… I would be older for you if I could be." His grin returns and I know I've done well.

"I guess it's not too long now;" he responds with a gleam in his eye—one that I recognize, but don't completely grasp yet. "You have more important things to worry about right now though."

"I will make you proud, Tomura," I assure quietly.

He kisses my head again then nods for Kurogiri to warp us to Master's new lair, pushing me in front of him. It's so similar to the first time I was brought before All For One—like I'm being presented as he holds and rubs my shoulders. Master is resting his cheek on his large fist as he gestures for me to come closer which I don't hesitate to do, kneeling before him humbly.

"I'm told your dossiers on Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods are quite detailed; You've done well, Deku." He hums, petting my bowed head gently. My eyes flutter closed as I suppress the urge to tremble and sigh with contentedness; I'd do anything to make them happy.

"Tomura…" he calls next, turning his attention away. "Do you think he's ready?"

I feel a tap on my head when Tomura steps up behind me and stand, letting him begin rubbing my shoulders once more. "Yes Master," he responds, leaning in closer to speak just behind my ear. "You won't fail us… Will you, Deku?"

"No Tomura, Master."

All For One stands and towers above my still small frame, a wave of power vibrating the air. Tomura takes a step back almost fearfully, but I don't—I can't. I haven't been given permission to move yet so I must stay still. I pointedly keep my gaze glued to the floor though and do my best to present a submissive posture.

It apparently isn't enough or simply doesn't matter because I choke when his calloused hand slips around my throat and lifts me into the air. It's tight and painful, but I can still get in shallow breaths. I'd reflexively grabbed onto his wrist when my feet left the floor and I will myself to let go, limply dangling despite how it strains my neck and spine.

"Come, Tomura…" he orders once I'm sufficiently compliant, his voice smooth and amused. "He looks too healthy."

My eyes flutter closed in resignation; it doesn't take a genius to figure out I'm about to be hurt, but I can't figure out what I've done wrong. Tomura had said that we were going to see Master to talk about if I was ready for my role in his Grand Plan and he'd praised me when we arrived…

"I'm being sent out to re-assimilate." I realize just as we enter a training room, snapping my eyes back open.

Master chuckles as he sets me down, petting my cheek while I gasp in air and cough. "Such a smart little pet."

After all this time I still can't figure out how he knows what is going on around him without being able to see. As far as I know, he doesn't have a mind-reading quirk or something like that. I don't have time to stay awed by his skills, however, because the hand that he'd been showing me affection with balls up and cracks across my skull.

There's a clock on the wall that I glance at every so often while the blows continue to rain down. After almost an hour, I'm struggling to stand back up at all. Master used some of his quirks, diversifying the injuries and subsequently the pain I experience.

The only thing that's kept me conscious up to this point has been the meek doctor that rushes in periodically to heal me. It's not at all a complete mending though, more like a 'now you won't die' stopgap. I've already figured out that the goal is to give the appearance of a consistent string of recent physical trauma; it's been a while since I was truly punished so most of my injuries are at least a few months if not years old. If I'm going to pretend I 'escaped' it has to look like I wasn't being treated well.

By the time they finish, my skin is a mess of colors ranging from black to purple, green, yellow, and the natural pale. Blood fills my nostrils and mouth, and the open wounds in various states of repair ooze and ache, making me even more lightheaded. They're proud of me though; I kept getting up no matter how hard I hit the ground… This isn't the worst beating I've received so I was prepared.

I utilized a tactic I'd picked up years ago—I simply retreat into the depths of my mind similarly to when I'm 'beaming', only this is far harder to pull me out of. The pain, though still severe, is dulled just enough to make it bearable.

I don't realize a portal has opened before my wobbling form until I'm already through it, the unfamiliar sounds of a city jarring me back to reality and letting me know they're satisfied with my appearance. Tomura is a step behind me as I stagger out of his way, his fingers gripping the back of my shirt collar tightly to steady my uncoordinated gate.

"Tell me why I chose you." He demands sharply, wrenching my throbbing jaw towards him and forcing me to look him in the eye.

"You saved me because I'm just like you. I was being bullied by people who should have been my friends and ignored by the people who should have been protecting me. You wanted to keep me safe from that and so you brought me home with you to make me strong like Master did for you… You're the only one who cares for me, Tomura." I recite obediently.

He grins at me in that dark, sneering way he does and gives me an approving nod. "That's right; now go and prove your worth. You know what you have to do…"

With one last squelching kiss to my head, he steps back into the portal, leaving me behind. I'm dazed and disoriented, but I've gone over my role so many times I'm certain I could do it while delirious. My bare feet sting from the broken glass bottles lying around but I continue to stumble out of the alley.

I don't recognize where I am when I finally see a street sign, but it doesn't matter. In this case, it's probably better that I remain uncertain and lost as it leaves one less thing I have to fabricate. There aren't many people out since it's so late, and the people I do see ignore me as I start hobbling in a random direction. Judging by the rather decrepit buildings I'm passing, this is a particularly rough part of whatever city I was warped to... maybe they're used to seeing a beat-up teenager wandering around?

"Hey kid!" a voice rings out, making me pause. I was trying to block out how much pain I was in so that I could keep moving, but it seems like that also had the unintended effect of making me less aware of everything else too.

I turn slowly to see who was calling out to me and what they want, finding a scruffy looking man with a white scarf and yellow goggles. "Shouta Aizawa, also known as Eraserhead…" I surmise, blinking up at the clearly worried man. I've studied this particular Pro in detail and know every weakness and strength of his quirk; as far as heroes go, this one is formidable.

"Kid… What happened to you? Are you alright?" he asks while he hesitantly steps closer, pushing his yellow goggles up to his forehead to get a better look at my face. "Wait…" he continues almost suspiciously, eyes narrowing as his fingers come up to wipe some of the dried blood and dirt from my cheeks before fingering a few of my thoroughly wild curls. My stomach starts to hurt from the touch; Tomura has made it clear he's the only one allowed to get near me.

"It can't be… Are you really—kid, what's your name?" he asks, making my heart stutter strangely. "Does he recognize me?" I wonder, swallowing some of the blood that had accumulated in my sore throat. I don't respond though… I just keep quietly staring up at him while I process the situation.

Nine years.

It's been nine years since Tomura came to save me and most of that time I was isolated. Outside of him and Master, there were only a handful of people I was even allowed to see and generally, they ignored my presence as if I wasn't there at all. Solitude I can handle, sometimes even appreciate, but this? I have no idea what I'm supposed to do even though Tomura told me I was ready.

The small room is full, everyone bumping into each other as they continue snapping pictures, swabbing, and damn near screaming as if I can't hear them. There are policemen talking to Aizawa—talking to me. I'm allowed to speak if I'm directly spoken to, but I can't for the life of me figure out what they're saying; everything is too loud… too chaotic. So, I do nothing. I sit quietly on the hospital bed I'd been put on and stare at the far wall, completely shut down.

"Everybody shut up!"

I flinch from the sudden, much louder voice that rings out over the already deafening collage of sounds. My eyes snap in the direction it came from, searching for the source but I can't find it; there are too many people blocking my line of sight.

"Hitoshi." I hear Aizawa growl, pushing past the officer he'd been speaking to. "What did I tell you—"

"All this commotion is upsetting him—look."

All eyes turn back to me and to the vitals machine I'm hooked up to. I covertly look as well, finding that my heart rate is indeed giving away the stress I'm under.

"You assholes were being so loud you couldn't hear the machine beeping," the voice continues, finally stepping into view.

I wasn't expecting what I see. Purple hair, purple eyes, notable signs of insomnia driven fatigue… and he appears to be around my age. I can't help but immediately wonder what his quirk is—if he has one at all—my focus shifting solely to him.

"Shit. Alright, why don't we give Midoriya a break for the night…" Aizawa concludes, seemingly brushing off the rather insulting statement. The officers nod and begin filing out, eventually leaving me with Aizawa and this 'Hitoshi'.

"I've got to deal with this circus; why don't you stay here with Midoriya until I'm done then we'll go home." The Pro continues, piquing my interest.

"So, this is his son?" I muse, finding that there is a familiarity in the exhausted, bored expression on both of their faces. The teen waves his father off and carefully tugs a chair close to my bed, pulling the contraption they call a food tray along as well. I've long since returned my eyes to the wall ahead of me, but in my periphery can see him crisscrossing his legs like a child and slouching his elbow on the rolling table so that he can lazily prop his chin up.

"The Pro that rescued you is my dad…" he explains as he opens the book he'd carried in with him. "Great with fighting crime but terrible with people… I'm Hitoshi Shinso, by the way."

I blink, unsure of what I should do. Nothing in particular is coming to mind for what to say back, but I'm aware that Tomura wants me to assimilate so that I can spy for him. I guess there must have been some hint that I was at a loss though because he's speaking again a few moments later.

"It's cool if you don't talk; I don't have to either if you don't want me to…" he drawls.

Well, I'm no longer overwhelmed but now I'm plagued with confusion. I'm a pet, a tool, an item to be used until ineffective or something better comes along… My 'wants' are irrelevant—I shouldn't even have them in the first place.

"Huh?" is my brilliant reply because I truly cannot think of anything better. I'm looking at him, head tilted as if it would shift my memories around like sand in a bowl and uncover something to help me understand.

"So, you do speak?" he questions, raising his eyes from his book. I nod slowly, my tongue still refusing to actively participate in the conversation. "Then can you tell me what you don't understand?"

My lap is suddenly very interesting. It's a difficult thing for me to ask for an explanation because it means that I couldn't figure it out on my own which by extension, means that I'm failing to meet Tomura's expectations for me. But in this case, it might be worth the sick sensation in my stomach; perhaps it will give me more insight into something else later on.

"…Why does it matter what I want… if I want?" I finally question.

He seems to think for a moment before responding. "Because what I want is not more important than what you want; our 'wants' are equal because we, as humans, are equal. In this case, I'm fine with surrendering my 'want' to yours, so, if you want me to be quiet and let you be, I will."

If I thought I actually still had the ability to laugh, I would have in complete disbelief. How absurd, what utter nonsense; we are not all equal—I learned that even before Tomura and Master showed me how wrong I was about so many things. Despite the impulse to correct him, I simply stay quiet; my true beliefs about anything shouldn't be known. He simply gives a shrug and returns to his book.

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