Arch 1: 「Act 5」

Artist of the Cover: Official Art

"Okay, what the fuc–"

Before she could finish, a gloved hand quickly covered her mouth. Ryūko blinked, locking eyes with Izuku, who gave her an awkward but soft smile.

"Can you not swear?" Izuku murmured quietly, his voice was calm. "There's a kid right behind me."

Right, she totally forgot about the little kid. Ryūko's eyes dropped to the little girl clinging to Izuku's side. She was shaking, her wide, frightened eyes darting between her and Inko.

The poor kid looked like she'd been through hell—ragged clothes, dirt smudged on her pale skin, like she had just escaped from some crazy sci-fi nightmare. The little girl really looked awful.

Meanwhile, Eri, though scared, couldn't help but to feel a bit curious. Izuku had told her this was a safe place, but now, she was wondering if that was really true at all. She glanced up at him, searching for reassurance amidst the uncertainty swirling around her.

Izuku noticed Eri's anxious gaze and flashed her a warm smile. He knelt down to her level, his voice soothing as he gently patted her head. "Hey, it'll be okay. You're safe here, I promise. Nothing is going to hurt you, Eri. I've got this." Izuku kept his tone light, hoping to chase away the shadows of fear lingering in her eyes.

"Izuku?"

The sound of his name from his mom quickly pulled him from his thoughts, and Izuku flinched, turning to find his mom standing there. Her eyes was widened, reflecting a storm of emotions — shock, fear, and worry all of it were tangled together.

She looked really fragile, as if one more jolt can send her crumbling. Both her hands trembled at her sides, and he could see her breath catch, as if the mother was holding back a flood of questions and feelings.

"Izuku, is that really you?"

The young man began glancing down, the silence in the hallway felt heavy enough to cut through. A chill breeze swept by, making his yellow cape flutter behind him. For a moment, he looked to the left, weighing his thoughts, but in the end, all he could manage was a nod.

"Yeah, it's me, Mom," he said quietly.

Inko rubbed her temple, her heart was racing as if it was trying to leap out of her chest so hard. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, and the woman struggled to even swallow the lump in her throat. "But you look so different," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced at his mom, noticing the way her green eyes was shimmering with all the unshed tears that Inko was holding back. He couldn't really blame her; he wasn't the same kid that his mom really remembered. Two years of training, fighting villains — he was a completely different person now. The change wasn't small either.

Comparing his old self to now would be like comparing a rookie to someone who had been through not just one war but two. The gap of him and his past self was huge.

He gradually pushed himself up, taking a slow breath as he tried on gathering his thoughts. He wanted to explain it all, but his soft gaze had eventually drifted over to the girl that was still standing beside his mom. Her strange, gear-like eyes and bluish-black hair caught his attention. Izuku couldn't just blurt everything out now, not with her standing right there.

Whoever she was, he needed to tread carefully.

Ryūko caught his gaze and she arched a brow, crossing her arms tightly. "What? You gonna explain now on why you suddenly look like you have been hitting steroids or something?" Her voice was sharp, but there was no bite in it—just blunt curiosity. She tilted her head toward Inko, who was still visibly shaken. "Your mom's been worried sick, dude. You gonna give her some answers or what?" She wasn't about to let him dodge this.

The boy let out a long breath, his fingers still rubbing the back of his neck as he met Ryūko's gaze. "Yeah—I guess I've got some explaining to do," he muttered, giving her a weak smile that quickly faded away as Izuku then slowly glanced over at Inko. "A lot's changed, and it's–not really simple." He shifted awkwardly, his eyes lowering to Eri, who clung to his side like a lifeline. "But right now, she's the priority."

He wasn't dodging Ryūko's sharp question, but he had to keep things focused. "We'll talk—just not yet." His voice softened, the eyes was lingering on the small girl next to him. "Let's just make sure she's okay and settle in first."

Inko blinked, wiping away the tears that had threatened to spill. She took a shaky breath, glancing between Izuku and the little girl who was clinging tightly to his side. Her motherly instincts was kicking in now, pushing aside her own shock for now. "Y–You're right," she finally said, her voice trembling but steady enough. "Let's get inside. I'll find some clothes for the girl. She must be freezing."

After that, Ryūko began to convince the mother that she can go head back to her own apartment now that Izuku was safe, only for Inko to slowly shake her head with a soft smile, insisting that she can stay just a little longer. "You're already here, and I could use the company," she said, her tone warm despite the tension in the air.

Meanwhile, Izuku stood off to the side, his gaze fixed on Ryūko. Who was she, and the important question was, why was she in their apartment? She looked tough, like someone who could handle herself, but there was also something about her that made Izuku curious. What did she know about everything that had happened?

They finally headed inside, the door clicking shut behind them. Inko led Eri into the other room, offering her some comforting words, though Eri looked nervous at first.

Izuku had crouched down to reassure her, saying softly, "It'll be fine, Eri. My mom's really nice. She'll take care of you." That seemed to have calm her down for the better and she followed Inko without much of a fuss.

Now, Ryūko and he sat alone in the living room, the quiet only got broken by the faint rustling that came from the other room. The girl sat across from Izuku on the couch, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Her sharp stare hadn't let up since they both walked in, making the air feel heavier between them.

Izuku shifted slightly, feeling the weight of her gaze. He knew that the girl was waiting for answers—hell, he had questions too—but he wasn't sure where to even start.

Ryūko began to lean back, never breaking eye contact at him, her brow raised. "So," the girl started first, her toned blunt, "you gonna explain what the hell is going on? You just show up out of nowhere, looking like you have been through some good badass hardcore training camp or something, and then there's that little girl—What gives?"

The boy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling the weight of everything he couldn't say. "It's— complicated," he muttered.

"Yeah, well, no kidding dude," Ryūko shot back, her eyes was narrowing slightly further. "Your mom is practically falling apart in there. You can't just show up looking like— whatever this is, and not explain anything about this." Ryūko motioned vaguely at his bulked-up frame, clearly frustrated. "You looked like you just came out of a comic book."

He glanced down, trying to find the right words without spilling the truth. He knew he couldn't explain everything—especially not to someone who had no idea he wasn't the Izuku from this timeline.

Ryūko crossed her arms, eyes still fixed on him. "I mean, c'mon dude, you're telling me you just started training a few weeks ago, right? But now you're, like, really jacked? C'mon, you can't expect me to believe that," she said, her tone laced with skepticism. "You look like one of those over-the-top heroes you see in comic books."

The boy clenched his jaw slightly, feeling the pressure to answer without giving away too much. So Izuku forced a small, sheepish grin. "Yeah, I've been— pushing myself a lot. More than I should, maybe," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess it's paying off."

She didn't seem convinced, her frown deepening. "Yeah, well, your mom didn't really get the whole memo about 'pushing yourself.' She's a wreck, dude. You gotta let her in on whatever's happening." Ryūko leaned forward, her voice losing a bit of its sharp edge. "You can't just leave her hanging like that. I can tell she's already dealing with enough."

His heart sank at the mention of his mom. He knew she deserved more than half-truths, but what could he say? Izuku glanced toward the room where Inko and Eri were, feeling the weight of his decisions crashing down. "I will, I promise. Just not everything right now."

She raised an eyebrow. "Not everything? What does that even mean?"

The boy slowly bit his lip, dodging her question. "It's just complicated," he repeated, trying to keep it at that.

The young girl began on letting out a frustrated sigh, but her expression softened just a bit. "Look, I get it. You've been through some stuff, and it's not easy to talk about. But you can't just leave your mom in the dark like this," she said, her tone a little less sharp now. "She's worried sick, and it's not fair to her."

The boy glanced down to the floor from that, feeling the weight of all her words. He tried on opening his mouth to respond, but before he could, the door creaked open. Inko stepped out first, her brow furrowed with concern. It was clear she was still anxious about everything that had happened and something more.

Behind Inko, Eri emerged, now dressed in a simple but also bright outfit—a soft pink sweater that hung slightly oversized on her small frame and a pair of comfortable leggings that matched. The new clothes brightened her pale complexion, and she now looked a little more like a typical kid, although her wide red eyes still carried a hint of fear.

Without hesitation, Eri rushed toward Izuku, her little feet pattering against the floor. She clung to him tightly, and the weight of her small fragile body against him brought a sense of warmth and responsibility that he hadn't fully realized he needed.

Izuku gently began patting Eri's head, his fingers moving through her hair in slow, calming motions. He could feel her small frame relax against him, and it made him wish that he could shield her from all the chaos surrounding them.

But his hand immediately paused as he patted her head, the soothing was interrupted by the weight of his mom's gaze. She stood there, her green eyes was all heavy with something deeper, like a burden that she couldn't carry anymore. Her grip on the hem of her shirt was tightened, trembling slightly, and her lips quivered, as though Inko was holding back words she didn't want to say aloud.

"Please," she whispered, her voice almost breaking, "can you tell me now?"

Izuku's hand stilled on Eri's head as he glanced down at her, then back up at his mother. The words he wanted to say were buried under the weight of the truth he couldn't really share. So his chest have tightened up, the silence stretching between them like a wall he wasn't sure how to break. Finally, Izuku exhaled, his voice barely above a whisper. "Alright, Mom. I'll try to explain."

Izuku took a deep breath, turning his gaze to Ryūko, who was still watching Izuku intently with those eyes. "Look, this is, it's something that I really need to keep between my mom and me," he said, his tone firm but soft. "I know you've been helping out, and I appreciate it, but there are some things that I really just can't share now. It's really complicated, and I don't want to drag you into it."

The boy paused, his green eyes flicking back to Eri, who was still clutching his sleeves. "You seem like you care about my mom, and that means a lot. But trust me, this isn't exactly the kind of story that I can tell with everyone listening. It's personal." He shifted slightly, the weight of his heavy words was hanging in the air, hoping that she would understand.

Ryūko tilted her head, noticing the seriousness in Izuku's voice. She scratched the back of her neck, letting out a small sigh before Ryūko began offering him an awkward smile. "Alright, I get it," she said, her tone a little softer. "I respect your space, dude. You've got your reasons, I can see that. But, you know, I expect you to clue me in later, okay?"

Ryūko gave him a small grin, more playful than annoyed now. "I'm not the nosy type, really," she said, shrugging slightly, "but come on, I've already seen way too much to just walk away like nothing happened at all, Izuku." Her blue eyes was slowly flicked to the little girl for a second before landing back on him. "You owe me at least a little something later, alright? And, ah, go to bed, you looked like you haven't slept, dude."

Izuku gave the girl a tired smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I probably should," he admitted, his voice was soft.

Ryūko pushed herself off the couch, stretching her arms overhead. "Alright, I guess that I'll be heading back to my place then. But don't think that I'll even forget about that explanation!" She winked, trying to keep things light.

As Ryūko made her way to the door, she glanced back at Izuku, her playful demeanor softening more. "Just take care of yourself, alright? And if you need anything, feel free to reach out," she said, her tone turning a little more serious. Then, as the girl reached the door, she hesitated for a moment, glancing back at him again. "Uh, I guess I'll see you around?" Her voice trailed off awkwardly, and she quickly opened the door and slipped out.

The boy watched as the door closed behind Ryūko, her awkward exit leaving the room in silence. Izuku exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He still had to face the conversation he dreaded most—his mom. His eyes drifting back to Inko, standing just a few feet away, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she waited for him to speak.

Her green eyes was slowly searching, and the weight of everything unsaid hung heavy between them. She didn't say anything, but the hurt and confusion were written all over her face. The boy bitten his lip, feeling the pressure building, but he knew he couldn't put this off any longer. "Mom. I'll tell you everything, I promise," he said softly, his voice strained, "but it's not something you're going to want to hear."

Inko's grip on her shirt tightened, her knuckles white as her body still trembled. The woman began biting her lip tightly, her eyes getting glossier as she stared at her son—at least, the boy standing in front of her who should be her son at least. "Izuku—I really need to know right now," the woman whispered, her voice was all shaky but firm. "You look so different. You're still my son, but I don't— I don't recognize you like I used to."

Her words hit the boy hard, like a punch to the gut. Izuku looked down, guilt gnawing at him as he heard the pain in her voice. Izuku wanted to tell her everything, to make things right, but how could he explain what he had been through? That this version of him had fought battles she couldn't even imagine? That she couldn't ever fathom?

He let out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair as he glanced down, searching for the right words. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the moment. Finally, he looked up at his mom, trying to gauge her expression. "Mom," the boy started, his voice steady but soft, "do you know what time travel means?"

Inko started blinking slowly, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Time travel?" The woman echoed out with widened eyes, the words tasting foreign on her tongue.

An images from those of sci-fi movies flickered through her mind, where characters can leaped into the past or future with a flash. She stared deeply into Izuku's eyes, noticing the pain and heaviness there, a stark contrast to the bright-eyed boy she once knew. Her heart began to race, the weight of his presence suddenly feeling like a storm brewing. "Is that really what this is?"

The silence hung heavy in the room, all wrapping around them like a thick fog. Inko's breath was hitched, and she shook her head slowly, disbelief washing over her. "This isn't funny," she said, her voice shaky as her gaze darted between him and Eri, who was watching with wide eyes. "You can't just say something like that and expect me to believe it! Where is my son?"

Izuku began taking a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words. "I know it sounds crazy, Mom, but I swear it's the truth," Izuku said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm still your Izuku, I'm just–your son from the future. Things had happened, and I'm back in the past, I still don't know why and how. It's complicated, but I need you to believe me."

Inko's eyes widened, her hands trembling as she fought to process everything. "From the future?" Inko echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But how? Why?" She was torn between disbelief and the desperate hope that this really was her son standing before her. Eri glanced between them, her small hand still clutching the hem of Izuku's shirt, sensing the tension in the room.

He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a slow breath as he looked at his mom, her wide eyes full of questions Izuku wasn't sure how he can even fully answer. "I don't know how, or even why it happened," the boy admitted it, his voice was low, "but I swear, I'm still me. Just—older, I guess." Izuku glanced down at Eri, who was still gripping his shirt, then back at his mom. "Things got all bad, and now I'm here."

Her breath hitched as she tried on processing his words, her heart was racing. "Bad how?" The woman asked, her voice trembling with a concern. "What happened to you, Izuku?" The fear in her eyes was palpable, and she took a step closer, desperate to bridge the distance between them.

The boy hesitated slightly, glancing at Eri, who was still watching them both with wide, curious eyes. "I can't go into all the details right now," Izuku replied, his tone soft. "But trust me, I'm okay now. I just—I need you to believe that I'm your son. I'm all here now to make sure you and everyone else will be safe." His gaze held resolution that belied the uncertainty churning inside him.

Both of her shoulders slumped just slightly, the tension in her body was now easing just a bit as Inko processed his reassurance. "You're really are my Izuku, aren't you?" she murmured, almost as if she were trying to convince herself. The tremor in her voice had faded, replaced by a flicker of hope. "Even if you're from the future?"

"Yeah, it's me," he said, offering a small, genuine smile. "I might look different now, but I promise that I am still the same guy." He stepped forward, pulling her into a gentle hug, and Inko melted into it, relief washing over Inko as she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

As they broke the hug, the woman began taking a small step back, her hands lingering on his shoulders as she studied her son. "So, what does all of this mean?" Inko asked, her own voice was a bit steadier now, but it was still laced with concern for her son. "Why are you here? And what happened that made you—this?"

Izuku hesitated, glancing at Eri, who was still watching quietly, her wide red eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "It's hard to explain everything right now, but let's just say things got really tough in my time," he said, trying to keep it a bit simple. "I came back here for some reasons that I don't know, but I want to make sure you and the rest are safe. There are things that I can't let happen."

Inko's brow furrowed as she processed his words, and a flicker of understanding crossed her face. "Is that why you brought this little girl with you?" She asked, her gaze softening as she glanced at Eri. "Did you save her from someone?" She can't forget about those bandages.

Izuku nodded, his expression serious. "Yeah, she was in a really bad situation, and I couldn't–I couldn't just leave her behind and to suffer. Not when I could do something about it."

Inko's heart swelled with pride, and she gently caressed his cheek, her fingers brushing against his skin. "You've grown up so much, my boy," Inko said, her voice warmth with affection. "I'm so proud of you." Her eyes sparkled with a mix of admiration and relief, knowing her son was still the caring person she always believed him to be.

Inko let out a soft sigh, shaking her head slightly as the weight of everything settled in. "I think it'll be best if you and the little one get some sleep for now," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "You can tell me everything when you're ready, just... not for tonight. I need some time to process all of this, Izuku, and you look like you need the rest too."

She gave him a tired but understanding smile, her eyes filled with the love only a mother could give. "We'll talk when you're ready. For now, let's just take things slow."

Izuku blinked at his mom's words, then nodded slowly. "Alright, Mom," he said softly, his voice calm. "We'll talk about it when the time's right." He glanced down at Eri, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It's all good now, Eri. We just need to get some sleep tonight."

The little girl whimpered softly, her grip on his shirt was tightening as her crimson eyes filled with worry. "But... will you disappear when I wake up?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

The boy shook his head gently, crouching down to meet Eri's gaze. Izuku softened his voice, ensuring she felt his sincerity. "I won't disappear, I promise," he said, his tone a mix of firmness and warmth. "We'll sleep in the same room tonight, just like a team. You'll wake up and I'll be right there, okay? I'll make sure you're safe."

Izuku reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his thumb was slowly grazing her cheek in a comforting gesture. "I know it's scary right now," he said softly, his voice was steady and reassuring, "but you don't have to be afraid. I'm right here with you, and we're going to get through all this together. You won't be alone, not anymore." Izuku smiled, hoping to bring some warmth to her heart.

He smiled warmly, trying to lighten the mood. "We'll be sleeping in my room," he said, his tone cheerful. "It'll be nice and cozy, just like a little adventure. I've got plenty of blankets and pillows, and I promise it'll be safe." He glanced over at his mom, who quickly gave him a small nod of encouragement.

Eri's eyes brightened a little at the thought. "Really?" She asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"Yep. Just us two, like a little team," Izuku replied, feeling a surge of optimism. "And I'm going to be right there, so you can sleep easy. What do you think?"

Eri slowly nodded, her small fingers gripping tightly onto Izuku's shirt as if it were a lifeline, though the fear in her eyes began to ease. She looked up at Izuku, a flicker of trust shining through. The boy had felt the weight of her reliance on him and gave her a reassuring smile before turning to his mom.

"We'll head to my room now," he said, his voice soft but was steady, hoping to ease both Eri's and his mother's lingering worries. "She needs some rest, and honestly... so do I." Inko's gaze lingered on her son, the depth of her concern still visible, but there was a glimmer of relief in her eyes.

The boy began taking the little girl's hand gently, leading her toward the hallway. Izuku glanced back at his mom, who stood watching them with a mix of pride and worry in her eyes. "We're gonna be okay, Mom," he reassured her, giving her a slight nod before stepping into his room with Eri.

As they soon entered the room, Eri's gaze darted around, taking in the space. Both her brow was furrowed slightly when she noticed the walls covered in posters of a man— some in flashy poses, others mid-action during what looked like heroic moments. "Ah, who's that?" Eri asked, slowly pointing at one of the larger posters featuring a muscular figure with a confident smile.

The boy chuckled softly from that, his heart lightening at her curiosity. "That's All Might. He was a great hero and my mentor," Izuku explained. "He taught me a lot about being strong and helping others." Izuku watched as Eri's eyes widened, intrigued a bit by the colorful images that decorated his room.

He gave Eri's hand a gentle squeeze, guiding her toward the bed. "Alright, Eri, how about you go get settled first? Find a nice comfy spot," the boy said softly, his tone was calm and easy, trying to ease any lingering nervousness. He pulled back the blankets, patting the spot where she could lie down. "I'll just change real quick, and then I will be right here with you. Promise."

Eri hesitated for a second, glancing at him as if making sure he meant it, before carefully climbing onto the bed. She shifted around a bit, testing the pillows, eventually pulling one close to her chest. Her small fingers curled into the blanket, relaxing little by little under his watchful eye before she eventually nodded her head.

With a final glance back at the girl, he slowly headed to the bathroom with some clothes. As he leaned over the sink to splash water on his face, he took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of the day. Even though he wanted to act like everything was fine for Eri's sake, the truth was, being here—this past, this version of home—it felt heavy.

He began to let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair as he muttered to himself frownly. "Just have to get through tonight." Izuku began removing his costume, starting first with the gauntlets, the weight of them was falling away. As he slid them off, his eyes dropped to his arms, noticing the fresh scars crisscrossing his skin.

Hm.

Another sigh escaped him, deeper this time. The rewind had healed a lot, but not everything. The scars remained—a reminder of all battles fought and the cost that came with them. "Guess some things don't rewind," he thought grimly, tracing the scars with his fingers before shaking his head. The rewind did only last for 3 minutes.

Izuku took a moment to breathe, trying to let the weight of his thoughts slip away. "At least I still have my arms," he reminded himself, flexing both his hands and feeling all the familiar strength in them. "I could still move, and that's what matters." He let out a small chuckle.

"Okay, focus," he said quietly to himself as he splashed some water all over his face. Tonight now, was just all about getting some rest and figuring things out in the morning. All Might had to be his first priority; he needed to understand why he still had One for All when he gave it away and how everything had turned out this way. With one last glance in the mirror, he steeled himself.

He got this, because this is all for everyone's sake.

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If he will die again in the end, then that's fine from him.

Arch 1 finished

To Be Continued on Arch 2