- .My Hero Academia: 180 degrees. -
23. Where Izuku has negative thoughts, All Might has doubts, and Shigaraki has certainty.
Upon crossing the entrance, Midoriya couldn't help but feel out of place. The label with the word "quirkless" on his chest seemed to shine brighter than the mansion itself. Beside him, Todoroki maintained a neutral expression, though his own label, "fire/ice," was anything but unnoticed by the other guests.
The mansion was enormous and elegant, a stark contrast to the unusual group of young people gathered there.
—There are so many people! —Midoriya exclaimed, both impressed and slightly intimidated. His hand instinctively moved, tracing the kanji for "person" on his palm in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves.
Todoroki watched him curiously before adding in his calm tone:
—Drawing the kanji for "person" on your hand helps with anxiety, but it doesn't work if you don't pretend to eat it.
—O-okay— Midoriya complied awkwardly, though it didn't seem to ease his tension. His back remained stiff, and his eyes darted around nervously.
—Is this your first time at a party too? —Todoroki asked, seeming a bit more at ease than Midoriya, though perhaps just as uncomfortable.
—Y-yeah —Midoriya replied, his voice trembling slightly.
—You'll probably be fine... as long as you know how to dance.
Midoriya looked at him in surprise before blurting out:
—You know how to dance, Todoroki?!
—No —Todoroki admitted nonchalantly, scratching the back of his neck—. But I wouldn't mind learning if someone wanted to teach me.
Even without a quirk like a sixth sense to warn him of danger, Midoriya could feel it approaching. It was as if dark shadows were closing in around them.
—Hey, I'll teach you how to dance! —a girl exclaimed with contagious enthusiasm.
—No! Come with me! —another one interjected, grabbing Todoroki's arm.
—I saw him first! —a third girl added, gently nudging the others aside.
In a blink, the group of girls whisked Todoroki away, leaving Midoriya stunned as he heard his friend muttering, "What is this?"
Izuku could only lift a hand in his direction, but they were already gone.
'Even with his quick reflexes in battle, Todoroki couldn't handle them. There's no doubt—girls are truly fearsome.'
Finding himself alone, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, Izuku tried to focus on his reason for being there and began muttering under his breath.
—Maybe I should leave. But I came here to see Uraraka, and I think it's important to show her that she's one of my priorities, though it seems like it'll be really hard to find her among all these people. I also can't just abandon Todoroki... I could call his phone, but with all this noise, it'd be hard to hear. And I remember him saying he wasn't bringing his phone to avoid his dad calling. As for Uraraka, maybe she's having fun and doesn't want to talk about something serious right now. Should I text her to let her know I'm here? Maybe I should've thought this through a bit more before coming. Now I'm not really sure what to do...
—Okey. Then eat some cheese— suggested a blonde boy with a French accent, shoving a piece of cheese into Midoriya's mouth.
Midoriya instinctively bit into the cheese, stepping back in surprise.
'He scared me! Cheese?!'
As Midoriya chewed, trying to regain his composure, he noticed the other boy's label also said "quirkless." He deduced that this must be the host of the party. Kirishima had mentioned him in their messages and noted that his family was foreign.
—A-are you Yuga Aoyama by any chance?
The blonde boy smiled proudly.
—If I weren't Yuga Aoyama, could I do this? —he asked, spinning on his roller skates while activating the disco ball on his belt, causing everyone nearby to cover their eyes from the bright white light—. I'm sorry. I can not stop twinkling.
The boast was met with brief applause from the other guests before the party resumed around them. Midoriya blinked, still trying to process what had just happened.
—Ah... thanks for hosting this party for all of us, but I've been wondering— why did they make us wear these labels at the entrance? Isn't it more common to put our names?
—I think names don't say much about a person. This way, it's easier to start conversations with new people.
—I guess the fact that we're talking right now proves it works.
—So, you're like me— Aoyama pointed to Midoriya's label—. Are you really going to apply for the U.A. exam, or did you just crash my fabulous party?
—Yes! I'll definitely give it my best shot, and I'm sure I'll make it! —Midoriya replied with determination, then realized the implication of Aoyama's question—. Wait, aren't you going to take the exam?
Aoyama began skating around Midoriya in circles.
—It's been a while since I gave up on the idea of being a hero in the conventional sense. I suppose it shows I didn't have a strong conviction to begin with— he struck a dramatic pose, pretending to faint, but quickly recovered—. But who needs it? For now, my way of supporting heroes will be to cheer them on and give them a fun time before all the pressure hits. I think I'll throw another party for those who make it in.
—That sounds... very kind of you. But don't your parents mind you throwing parties like this?
—They're always traveling around the world —Aoyama shrugged—. As long as I keep my butler happy, they won't find out.
—I see.
'That sounds a bit lonely.'
—Want to hear an interesting fact? And who wouldn't when it comes from me— Aoyama said, pointing to both Midoriya's and his own label —Even though the official figure says that 20% of the world's population is still quirkless, I have data showing the percentage is much lower than that.
Midoriya blinked, taking a moment to process the information.
—Now that you mention it, I've had the same impression —Midoriya commented, his voice thoughtful—. I think you're the first quirkless person I've met in as long as I can remember. But why would they lie about something like that?
Before Aoyama could respond, a deeper voice cut into the conversation.
—That's exactly part of the bigger issue —said a boy with a crow-like face, his dark presence looming over the discussion. His label read "Dark Shadow" in elegant letters—. I'm sorry for interrupting your conversation, but I wanted to mention that it's the opposite with heteromorphs. There seem to be more of us, but the official numbers show a lower percentage.
Suddenly, Midoriya remembered the sad fox woman he had encountered on that rainy day.
—Someone I met told me that, sometimes, they're treated like second-class citizens— Midoriya's expression softened, feeling a bit sad. He knew from personal experience that quirkless people were often treated that way too, so he understood what it felt like.
Tokoyami regarded him with a thoughtful look, his dark eyes fixed on Midoriya's "Quirkless" label.
—Some people think society simply isn't ready to admit that the system is broken. If you're interested in these topics, you could come to this place. It's where we meet from time to time— Tokoyami handed Midoriya a card for a café, but Aoyama snatched it first.
—I don't like serious topics at my parties! You all know that! —Aoyama activated his belt's light again and spun around. This time, the brightness seemed even stronger than before.
Midoriya squinted, the intense light making it hard to see clearly. Tokoyami shielded his face with his arm, also affected by the glare.
—Sorry. My quirk doesn't handle excessive brightness too well— Tokoyami apologized as he retreated, still covering his face.
A murmur of approval and cheers came from the surrounding kids, who seemed delighted with Aoyama's performance. He clearly enjoyed being the center of attention. But Izuku, while appreciating the host's energy, couldn't help but worry about how he had treated Tokoyami.
—Weren't you a bit rude to him? —Midoriya asked.
Aoyama shrugged, unbothered by the question.
—I don't think so. Besides, I know them. That guy is part of a group of young enthusiasts obsessed with Destro's biography. It comes into fashion every now and then, and people start talking about it like it's the next big thing —he said with disdain—. I'd only recommend it if you like spending hours debating philosophical issues about quirks.
Aoyama handed Tokoyami's card to Midoriya, smiling with a twinkle in his eyes.
—Personally, someone who can't stop moving and shining on their own wouldn't fit in with them.
Midoriya slipped the card into his pocket and resumed scanning the room for Uraraka and Todoroki. To his surprise, he spotted Uraraka a few meters away, chatting animatedly with a blonde boy who was showing her some electricity sparking from his palm. As he brought his hand closer, her hair stood on end, making her laugh. Without realizing it, Midoriya's expression grew very serious.
—Oh, you're thinking they're having a lot of fun without you, aren't you?— Aoyama chimed in as if reading his thoughts —Or perhaps... you're jealous because you like her?
Midoriya couldn't help but blush furiously and attempted to cover his face with both forearms.
—N-no, I don't know if it's jealousy, but it's true that I like her— he admitted despite his shyness, still hiding his face —I actually came to talk to her, but now I don't know how.
—That's something you'll have to figure out on your own. Matters of the heart are too delicate to interfere with— Aoyama did a small spinning pirouette on one foot in front of him before making his way through the crowd —If you'll excuse me, I need to tend to the rest of my guests.
—Y-yeah, see you, and thanks for talking to me.
—Don't mention it! See you around!— Aoyama waved goodbye, though he whispered to himself afterward —Though I'm not sure if we'll meet again.
Midoriya resumed watching Uraraka and the blonde boy, and he could swear he was starting to feel a little irritated. At the same time, though, he thought Uraraka looked really cute when she laughed.
He hated feeling bad when seeing Uraraka with someone else, but he couldn't help the growing desire in his chest that only he should see her beautiful smile. That it should be just for him.
Izuku shook his head. Wasn't that a selfish thought? What was happening to him? He didn't usually have thoughts like that.
Now, the boy beside Uraraka was showing her tiny spheres of electricity sparking from each of his fingers, and he seemed to be capturing all of her attention as he explained something to her.
'If I had a quirk, maybe I could impress Uraraka at least once, like that guy,' Izuku thought, looking at his hand.
'For example, if I had All Might's strength, I could send someone flying with just the power of a single finger...'
He repeated the motion with his thumb and index finger toward the ground with his other hand, surprised to find it more comforting than drawing the kanji for "person" in his palm. Then, he raised the hand he had been staring at and pointed in the direction of the blonde boy, his expression serious. Was he imagining it, or did that guy look dumber every second?
Izuku shook his head again, but he still felt bad.
'Maybe if I had a quirk, I wouldn't have to work twice as hard as everyone else, and I'd have more free time to hang out,' he thought, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he was still pointing. For some reason, he felt his body fill with an unfamiliar energy, almost as if something might actually happen if he dared to release his finger. His hand trembled slightly.
"Come on, don't be ridiculous. Nothing spectacular is going to happen. You're quirkless, and that's never going to change," he told himself, cruel but realistic. He remembered those childhood days when he would blow as hard as he could, again and again, hoping to see a spark of fire from his mouth. But no matter how hard he tried, all he tasted was disappointment. That spark of hope he once had for developing a quirk extinguished with each failed attempt.
Izuku's hand lowered a little but then rose again slightly.
'What did he have to lose now? Maybe it would make him feel better.'
But just as he was about to release his finger, a hand touched his shoulder.
—Midoriya! What a surprise seeing you here after you said you wouldn't come!— Kirishima greeted him with his usual enthusiasm, his wide, genuine smile lighting up the place.
Izuku, still trying to shake off his thoughts, was startled when he heard his friend's voice. His heart skipped a beat, as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.
—Looks like interest has a way of walking— teased a playful voice from behind him. The chill that ran down Midoriya's spine made him turn immediately. It was Ashido, grinning mischievously.
—A-Ashido! Kirishima!— Midoriya stammered, feeling the words slip out of his mouth, trying to hide just how nervous he was.
Kirishima, curious, tilted his head slightly as he noticed Midoriya positioning himself between him and where he had been looking just seconds before. —Uh... What were you doing just now?— Kirishima asked, trying to peek in the direction Midoriya was trying to hide.
—N-nothing!— Midoriya blurted out quickly, waving his hands in front of his face as if trying to dispel any misunderstanding. He felt his face burning, his mind racing as he tried to prevent Kirishima from seeing what he had been observing just moments earlier.
From her vantage point, Ashido had no trouble spotting Uraraka talking to a guy, and it didn't take her long to put two and two together. She started bouncing on her feet, hands balled into fists, as if she'd uncovered some exciting romantic secret.
—What's up with you?— Kirishima asked, confused by her behavior.
—Are you all going to keep chatting, or are you finally going to move the hell out of the way?— interrupted a familiar voice that made them all tense up. —I thought you said we were next— Bakugo growled with obvious irritation, shoving Kirishima aside.
—K-Kacchan?— Midoriya took a step back, startled. The surprise was mutual, though, as Bakugo also seemed not to have expected to run into him.
Bakugo eyed him for a second, his gaze sharp as always.
—Hey...
—You're right, Bakugo— Kirishima nodded, snapping back to focus. —We are next. No time to start a fight with Midoriya.— With that, Kirishima began walking toward the stage, followed by Ashido, who kept throwing knowing looks at Midoriya, trying to make him uncomfortable.
Bakugo, hands in his pockets and jaw clenched, walked behind them without saying anything more, followed by the rest of his band.
Once again alone, Midoriya felt his thoughts flooding back.
'What was I even thinking just a moment ago?' Izuku wondered as he glanced at his hand again. When had he started having all these thoughts? He shook his head and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly.
Feeling slightly more upbeat, he got distracted by the thought that he'd get to see his friends perform for the first time, watching them head up to the stage.
He then noticed Kacchan tracing something with his finger in his palm before "eating" it with a tiny explosion.
'Amazing. He can get nervous too,' Midoriya reflected.
He vividly remembered when Kacchan had started practicing the drums a few years ago, and couldn't help but recall the time when, in a show of his skills, Kacchan had used his head to demonstrate his drumming prowess in school. Even though it had hurt a bit back then, Midoriya held no grudge and found it somewhat funny now.
Afterward, he thought he'd stay and watch them play before deciding whether or not to talk to Uraraka—even if it meant interrupting her conversation with her new friend. And truthfully, he didn't mind doing that one bit.
...
Toshinori had just finished brushing his teeth, leaning slightly toward the bathroom mirror as he examined his smile from every possible angle. He was satisfied, as always, with his well-kept appearance.
—Yes, everything's in order— he murmured to himself, admiring the shine of his teeth. —A smile worthy of the Symbol of Peace, if I do say so myself— he said with pride.
Just as he was about to leave, something strange happened. Red, glowing marks began to appear all over his body, spreading across him like veins of light. At first, he didn't think much of it, as if it were something natural in this world, but as soon as he realized what was happening, the marks started to expand, pulsing with an intensity he couldn't ignore.
—What the hell is this?!— he shouted, stepping back abruptly. His heart pounded as he tried to shake himself, as if he could somehow rid himself of those marks. However, as quickly as they had appeared, the marks vanished, leaving him standing in front of the mirror, breathing heavily, but with no trace of what had just occurred.
The bathroom returned to its usual calm. Toshinori exhaled, still confused, and tried to collect himself as he studied his reflection. —What could this mean...?— he muttered, feeling like something deeper was hidden behind the strange incident.
Unexpectedly, the image of Nana Shimura flashed in his mind, her back turned, and when she glanced over her shoulder, her expression appeared serious.
—It can't be...
The memory of his recent meeting with Sir Nighteye flooded his thoughts immediately. The conversation had been tense, filled with sharp words that still echoed in his ears:
—You gave your power to an ordinary student with no quirk! Is this some kind of joke?!— Nighteye had stared at him in disbelief, his eyes filled with disappointment and anger.
—It's no joke. And you, better than anyone, know that I was also born without a quirk— Toshinori replied calmly, trying to hold firm, though he felt the weight of his former colleague's words.
—But you're an exception, All Might! This is complete nonsense!— Nighteye's frustration was palpable in his voice.
—My decision is already made— Toshinori insisted, trying not to let the pressure get to him. He knew he had made the right choice in choosing Midoriya, but doubt began to creep in with every word from his old ally.
—Then tell me who he is, and I'll prove to you with facts that Mirio is a far better choice. It might not be too late if the power transfer isn't complete. We could convince him to give it to Mirio!— Nighteye had adopted a more urgent tone, almost pleading.
—You know you're not giving me your best self by saying that, right? In fact, I think I'd rather keep it a secret for his safety, at least until you calm down and can assure me you'll respect my decision— Toshinori responded, his voice filled with calm determination. He couldn't allow One for All to be taken from Midoriya's hands, not when he had already proven himself worthy.
Nighteye stood up, his expression serious and his voice colder than usual. —Then it seems we won't be seeing each other for some time, All Might— he said, bringing the conversation to a close.
Toshinori also rose, feeling the weight of that definitive separation between them. —I'm sorry to hear that— he replied, with a sadness that barely broke through.
Back in the present, Toshinori held his chin, deep in thought. The image of Nana Shimura lingered in his mind, her gaze stern yet distant. —Master...— he murmured. —You don't think I made a mistake in choosing young Midoriya, do you?— Doubt crept into his voice as he questioned whether he had been too impulsive in his decision.
His thoughts cleared momentarily as he remembered another conversation with his teacher, on a sunny day with a clear blue sky that he could still feel. Nana floated gracefully down from the air, smiling at him.
—One for All is a precious gift for those willing to give everything of themselves for others without expecting anything in return— she had said with a conviction that still resonated in his heart.
Toshinori took a deep breath, clinging to that memory. Midoriya had proven time and again that he was worthy of that power. He knew that the young man would do great things, that his pure heart and determination would lead him to overcome the greatest challenges. He knew this well, but then... what was the meaning of those red marks that had appeared on him?
...
Shigaraki stood in a dark alley, his figure barely illuminated by the dim light of nearby street lamps, with puddles of stagnant water at his feet. The smell of dampness filled the air, and the echo of dripping water from nearby roofs still resonated in the empty streets. Behind him, a small video game store shone with neon lights, the only splash of color in a world that had always been gray to him. His gaze, lost in nothingness, displayed a contemplative expression as he compulsively scratched his hand, an old habit he had never been able to shake.
—Sometimes, the dampness after the rain still hurts my skin—Shigaraki murmured, his voice barely a whisper blending with the distant sounds of the city. —Just like when I was a kid—he added, a hint of bitterness in his tone, as if the memory irritated him as much as the sensation on his skin.
From the dark corner of the street, a figure slowly emerged. Spinner, his companion for many years, approached cautiously, his eyes shining with a mix of concern and loyalty.
—Hey, are you really sure about what you want to do?—Spinner asked, breaking the silence that enveloped them. His words were laden with uncertainty. —I think you still have time if you want to change your mind.
Instead of responding immediately, Shigaraki let out a small, concise laugh that surprised Spinner. It was rare to see Shigaraki laugh, and when he did, there was always something unsettling about it.
—The years we spent together as hikikomori playing video games were undoubtedly the happiest of my life—Shigaraki said, his voice now somewhat softer, as if recalling those moments with a strange nostalgia. He looked up at the sky, which still bore traces of the recent rain, and waited a few seconds before continuing. —But I think in the end, it was like that guy said... the time has come for me to move on. I can't stay in the trial level forever, no matter how fun it is. Now I'm too curious to know what's in the next levels.
As he spoke, Shigaraki's expression shifted slightly, his demeanor moving from calm to a darker, more determined one. In his mind, All for One's words resonated with a disturbing clarity. Sometimes, that voice still sent chills down his spine, as if the man who had molded him still had control over him:
—So you've decided to abandon me, Tomura—All for One's words invaded his mind, like an echo he couldn't ignore. —Hahaha... but don't be afraid. I have no intention of stopping you. You've always been free to decide, in a way. Although...—the voice paused, then continued with an almost paternal coldness. —I'm sure that sooner or later you'll grow bored of this rebellious side you've chosen to adopt, and in the end, you'll try to go further. You'll see.
Shigaraki felt a shiver run down his spine, but he didn't let those words affect him. All for One's expectations no longer bound him... or at least that's what he tried to convince himself. However, the shadow of his mentor still lurked, watching.
—Whatever you decide, I'll follow you—Spinner's voice pulled him from his thoughts. Before him, his friend looked at him with unwavering loyalty, his posture resolute. —I'm convinced it was fate that brought us to that man who was mumbling incoherently on the street!
Shigaraki narrowed his eyes, letting Spinner's words linger in the air before responding. —Fate—he repeated slowly, savoring the word. —I don't really believe in that, to be honest—He took a moment to reflect, scratching the skin of his hand again. —I think life goes round and round in unexpected ways. Sometimes everything seems clear, but then everything changes over the smallest thing.
He looked up, his eyes shining with fierce determination, one that Spinner had never seen before. —And I want that. I want the world, this society that I despise so much, to see everything turned upside down, just like I've been seeing it for years—. His voice, once apathetic, now carried a dark weight, a purpose that went beyond any game or whim.
The alley, once a place of refuge, now seemed small, insufficient to contain the destructive thoughts racing through Shigaraki's mind. The puddles reflected the gray sky, but in his eyes, there was only chaos. —Let's take this to the next level, Spinner—he said with a calm that contrasted with the monster within him. —It's time for the world to prepare for us.
And as the cold wind swept away the last drops of the storm, Shigaraki smiled, a grin that had nothing to do with comfort or peace.
Author's Notes.-
About Twice's clones: Thank you for your comments, SonicMax. Here's my opinion on the matter:
You're right, Twice doesn't have a direct or telepathic connection with his clones. This means he can't know what they're thinking or how they're doing while they're active. Each clone has its own autonomy and consciousness, acting as if they were the original person, but without sharing information directly with Twice.
This creates a key problem for him, as if a clone and the original are present at the same time, Twice cannot know for sure which one is the real one, since the clones believe they are the original. This mental confusion is a significant part of Twice's internal conflict and one of the reasons he developed a severe psychological fracture.
Regarding their duration, I think they have a variable duration depending on the circumstances. In general, Twice's clones can remain active until they receive enough damage, destabilizing and disintegrating if hit hard enough. However, there is no specific time limit mentioned for their duration if they are not damaged.
As for their physiological needs, Twice's clones don't seem to require eating, sleeping, or performing other vital functions like a real person would. Although they are exact physical replicas of the originals, they don't have the same biological needs.
Your comments are always welcome! Thank you so much for reading, following, and liking. It always makes me smile.