The abandoned house was barely standing, its wooden beams sagged under years of neglect, warped by the weight of decay. The moon barely illuminated the cramped and cluttered space, but the League of Villains could see each other just fine.

"This is bullshit!" Tomura Shigaraki snarled, his voice raw with frustration as he crouched in the farthest corner of the room, curled up on himself like a predator licking its wounds. His fingers twitched erratically, dragging against the tattered fabric of his pants, nails scraping, itching. He was furious, more than furious… his entire body was burning with the need for destruction. "Why did he let Midoriya go?! Why were we told not to go into that room?! Why didn't we know the heroes were coming?!" His words tumbled out, each syllable sharp, biting, cutting into the air with raw anger.

"Where was Master when everything went to hell?!" He curled his fingers into fists, the cracked skin of his hands peeling slightly as he clenched tighter. There were too many questions, but no answers. His chest ached with frustration and uncertainty. It made him sick.

The others were no better. And right now, none of them were happy.

"What the hell even happened!?" Twice yelled, his voice cracking, his hands gesturing wildly. "One minute we're all hanging out, next minute BOOM! Heroes are busting down the damn walls! Oh, wait—" He straightened, flipping his tone. "Maybe if SOMEONE had a better plan, we wouldn't be in this mess!" He gestured aggressively at Kurogiri, then at Spinner, then back at Kurogiri.

"Calm down, Jin," Mr. Compress sighed, stretching out his sore shoulder, his usual flair for dramatics subdued in the face of their situation. "Shouting isn't going to bring back what we lost."

Toga kicked a broken chair across the floor, her expression stuck somewhere between anger and something more wistful. "Izuku's gone," she muttered, crossing her arms, her usual playful energy forced and bitter. "Gone! Poof! Like, I was just starting to really like him, like, really like him, y'know? I wanted to cut him up and make him mine, but now he's just GONE!" Her lips curled into a pout. "And for what?! What was the point of bringing him here if we were just gonna let them take him back?!"

Dabi scoffed from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His blue flames flickered at his fingertips, just a whisper of power, but it was enough to cast eerie shadows across his scarred face.

Twice began to pace back and forth, hands clenched into fists, his voice erratic as ever. "He betrayed us! That two-faced, lying little traitor!" He shouted, then immediately flinched. "No, wait, maybe he didn't! Maybe it wasn't his fault! Maybe it was all a trick! Who's to say he even wanted to leave? Maybe he was brainwashed!" His two personalities waged war, his head shaking violently as he struggled to settle on an answer.

Spinner sat hunched over in the corner, gripping his sword like a lifeline. "This whole thing stinks," he muttered, his usual composure crumbling under the weight of uncertainty. "Nothing makes sense. We were played. But by who? The heroes? The police? Or..."

"Master." Kurogiri's voice cut through the chaos like a blade, smooth and unwavering, but with an edge of finality as everyone turned to look at him. Kurogiri, ever the composed one, ever the enigma, stood near the entrance, his glowing yellow eyes scanning each of them with an eerie calmness. "This was likely All For One's plan from the start."

Tomura's breath hitched. He stood abruptly, knocking over a pile of broken wood and debris, his movements erratic, unstable. "You're saying Master wanted this?! That he wanted us to get wrecked?!"

Kurogiri didn't flinch at Tomura's violent outburst, nor did he react to the way the air around the leader of the League crackled with barely restrained malice. "Master never acts without reason. You, of all people, should know this by now."

Tomura trembled, fingers twitching against his arms, scraping at his own skin. He wanted to argue, to scream, to break something, anything, but deep down, he knew… Kurogiri was right.

And then, before anyone could process it further, the door creaked open. The room fell into absolute silence as a heavy presence filled the space, thick and suffocating. The air itself felt heavier, pressing down on them with an unseen force, a weight that coiled around their bones. It was overwhelming, consuming, a darkness that did not need to be seen to be felt.

His presence alone swallowed the space, made the walls feel smaller, and the air heavier. His suit was pristine, as if the raid had never touched him. As if nothing had.

And then, he laughed, a quiet, deliberate thing, crawling under their skin.

Tomura's fists clenched, his rage momentarily giving way to sheer, desperate confusion. "Master…! Where were you?! Why—why did you let this happen?!"

All For One's masked face shifted, a slow, deliberate motion that sent chills through the room. "Because, Tomura," he said, his voice still laced with that unsettling amusement, "the game has only just begun."

Toga perked up, eyes gleaming. "Ooooh, I love games!~" she sang, spinning her knife in her hands.

Dabi scoffed. "Care to share what this game is, or are we just pawns waiting to be moved?"

All For One let out another chuckle, stepping further into the room. "Oh, Dabi, my dear boy, we are all players in this grand design. But rest assured… USJ was a resounding success. And our little setback? Merely a performance. A show for the heroes to believe they have won."

Tomura's breath hitched. "You… planned for them to find us? To raid our hideout?"

All For One did not answer immediately. Instead, he took slow, measured steps toward the center of the room, his very presence commanding silence. "The heroes needed their victory. The people needed hope. And so, we let them have it. We let them believe that they have routed us, that they have dismantled our efforts. But they do not see…"

He turned to face them fully, the moonlight catching just enough of his form to make his presence even more imposing. "The next chapter has only just begun," he mused, stepping forward, his voice smooth, unwavering, filled with the certainty of a man who had already won. "The seed has been planted."

Tomura's expression twisted, his frustration, his confusion boiling over into something dangerously unstable. "You let them take him?!" His voice cracked, his hands shaking. "Why?! Why did we do any of this if we were just going to hand him over?! I hate his guts, but I—" Tomura paused, he couldn't even believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

"—he was one of us..." Tomura finished. For the first time he looked at his Master, All For One, face to face. "So why did you do nothing?"

All For One tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the outburst. Yet he was intrigued with Tomura's shift in tone. "Because it was necessary."

"Necessary?!" Tomura's eyes burned. "For what?!"

All For One's smile widened beneath his mask.

"To make them believe they saved him." His voice swirled with a hint of playfulness. "Because... I want something that belongs to me."

The room pulsed with tension, every member of the League holding their breath, caught in the wake of something far larger than themselves.

"You see," All For One continued, "this was never about simply keeping him. It was about showing the world that we could. That we did. The moment we took him, the heroes had already lost. They just didn't realize it yet."

His voice darkened, laced with something sinister.

"And now, they think they've won him back. They think they've beaten us. They think Midoriya Izuku has been saved." He let the words linger, seeping into the air with malevolence. "But what they fail to understand… is that a seed, once planted, cannot be so easily removed."

Kurogiri inclined his head slightly. "What do you mean, Master?"

All For One's smile was unseen, but they could hear it in his voice. "Midoriya Izuku is free. Rescued. Brought back into their arms. Particularly innocent... such a gut wrenching story. But he will always be one of us, only time will reveal it."

Tomura's fingers twitched violently. "You mean… you're not done with him?" He felt something cold coil in his gut. "What did you do to him?"

All For One simply chuckled, turning away, as if the question wasn't worth answering. "Regroup," he ordered. "Rest. Prepare. You will find out soon enough."

His voice was absolute.

The tinted windows of the black vehicle did little to muffle the distant hum of voices that grew louder as they neared their destination. Izuku sat stiffly in the back seat, his eyes locked onto the floor of the car, his fingers gripping the fabric of his pants with a pressure just shy of painful. The atmosphere inside the vehicle was suffocatingly silent, save for the occasional crackle of the radio from the front, where the driver and an escort officer sat in tense stillness.

This was it… U.A.

And outside those gates, waiting like a horde of vultures scenting fresh blood, were the reporters. The media. The world.

Izuku barely had time to brace himself before the vehicle slowed, the sound of camera shutters clicking in rapid succession filling the air like the beat of war drums. Through the dark glass, he caught flickers of movement, microphones being thrust forward, journalists craning their necks to get a glimpse inside. The car hadn't even come to a full stop when the muffled questions started.

"Midoriya Izuku! How does it feel to be free?"

"Did you really survive the League of Villains' torture?"

"Is it true that you were brainwashed? How long were you actually with them?"

"Do you actually regret this happening to you?!"

That last question sent an immediate, visceral reaction through him. His chest tightened, his stomach clenched, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

As the car door opened, bright lights flashed from every angle, a suffocating wave of noise crashing into him as he stepped out. He hadn't realized how overwhelming it would be, how oppressive the sheer force of attention could feel. He gasped, taking half a step back before a firm hand on his back urged him forward.

"Move, Midoriya," one of the officers instructed, voice steady but urgent.

Izuku forced himself to walk, his body rigid with tension. The crowd was unrelenting.

"Midoriya, did the villains try to recruit you?"

"Do you blame U.A. for what happened?"

His heart pounded so loudly he almost couldn't hear them anymore. His breathing came too fast, too shallow. The walls of reporters felt like they were closing in, their voices overlapping, merging into a chaotic, disorienting storm. The flashing lights burned into his eyes.

He wasn't ready for this. Not yet.

A strong arm shielded him as the officers and U.A. security personnel created a barrier, forcefully pushing the reporters back. "Keep moving!" one of them barked, ushering him toward the school's gates.

Izuku's pulse roared in his ears, his vision tunneling as his breath caught in his throat. He could feel himself slipping, falling back into that moment… the cold shackles, the suffocating darkness, the phantom sensation of restraints pulling against his wrists.

He willed himself forward, each step heavier than the last, until finally, finally, the school gates shut behind him. The voices became muffled, distant, held at bay by the security guards stationed outside.

The silence that followed was somehow worse. Izuku exhaled shakily, his fingers trembling as he dragged in slow, deliberate breaths, forcing himself to steady. Yet as he turned to walk the long path to U.A.'s main building, he felt them.

The eyes.

Dozens of students, some standing in small clusters, others passing by, stopping in their tracks to stare at him, whispering behind their hands. They pointed, murmured, gazed at him as if he were something foreign, something to be examined from a distance.

Some looked at him with curiosity. Others with sympathy. But the worst were the ones who looked at him with suspicion.

He kept his head up, kept moving, trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Just get to the classroom. One step at a time.

A second-year student near the main entrance turned to his friend and muttered, "That's him, isn't it? The one who was taken?"

"I heard he actually—"

Izuku walked faster.

A girl from Class 1-B, someone he had seen in passing but never spoken to, glanced at him and immediately looked away, as if avoiding eye contact would erase his presence.

His stomach churned. Izuku had expected this, he knew it would be like this. But knowing didn't make it any easier.

His thoughts flickered back to All Might, to their last conversation, to the weight of the secret he now carried. The quirk, One For All. Something no one else could know about, a truth heavier than he had ever imagined.

It was almost ironic. For the first time, he had a power greater than anything he had dreamed of, and yet, he had never felt weaker.

The doors of Class 1-A loomed ahead, tall and unmoving. He stopped just outside them. His heartbeat was uneven, his throat dry. His fingers hovered just over the handle as he swallowed. Then, steeling himself, he pushed the door open.

The moment Izuku pushed open the door, the air inside the room shifted instantly. A second ago, the classroom had been filled with chatter, small conversations overlapping as students went about their morning. It had been normal, just another day at U.A. But now, that casual atmosphere had died in an instant, replaced by something far heavier.

Eyes turned toward him, heads twisting as the realization hit them one by one. It was almost slow-motion—the sound of seats shifting, bags being placed down, conversations halting mid-sentence as every single person in the room registered that he was standing there.

He could feel it as the weight of their gazes pressing into him, their thoughts unreadable.

And for a moment, he thought he had made a mistake. Then—

"Deku…?" A voice, small but hesitant. Warm.

Ochako Uraraka stood near the middle of the room. Her face was unreadable at first, brows furrowed, lips parted slightly. But then her expression softened, and a hesitant smile flickered across her face. "Welcome back."

That was all it took.

The tension cracked, and in the next instant, voices overlapped in an overwhelming wave.

"Midoriya! You're back!"

"You idiot, you scared the hell out of us!"

"I'm so glad you're okay!"

Kirishima grinned from his seat, leaning forward. "Took you long enough, man! You had us all worried!"

Yaoyorozu nodded, her smile more reserved but warm nonetheless. "I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you… but truly, welcome back, Midoriya."

Iida adjusted his glasses, his voice carrying the same conviction he always spoke with. "We have much to discuss, but first and foremost, we are simply relieved that you have returned to us."

Even Todoroki, usually quiet and unreadable, met his eyes for a brief second and nodded. No words, but the gesture was enough.

One by one, his classmates spoke, each of them greeting him in their own way, some more energetic, some more subdued, but all of them accepting him.

Izuku had prepared himself for rejection, for judgment, for the wary stares that had followed him on his way through the halls. But instead, he was met with something entirely different.

Everyone had already made up their minds, they weren't pushing him away. They were welcoming him back. A tight knot in his chest loosened, and before he could stop it, he felt something warm trail down his cheek. A single tear.

"Alright, that's enough." It was Aizawa.

The classroom snapped to order immediately. Their homeroom teacher stood by the whiteboard, arms crossed, his gaze flat and unreadable as always. The warm welcome faded into an awkward shuffle as the students hesitantly took their seats.

"You're all still rookies," Aizawa said, his voice carrying the weight of reality as he scanned the room. "I understand that emotions are running high, but if you think the world is going to slow down for you, you're wrong. Villains don't care how you feel, and neither will anyone else if you can't perform when it matters."

Izuku swallowed, his feet finally moving as he stepped fully into the room. As he walked toward his desk, Aizawa's eyes met his for a fraction of a second. There was no pity, no softness in them, just the usual expectation of a teacher demanding focus from his student.

"Midoriya, sit down."

It was a command, not a request. Izuku obeyed, sliding into his chair.

Aizawa turned to the class, exhaling. "Now, let's move on." Just like that, it was back to normal.

The shift was almost jarring. No lingering discussions, no extra words about what had happened. It was like stepping into a different reality where the last few weeks had never happened. Aizawa didn't treat him any differently, didn't acknowledge anything out of the ordinary.

It was oddly comforting.

Aizawa continued, scribbling a list on the board as he spoke. "There are several things coming up that you all need to be prepared for. First, shared classes with the Support Course. This means some of you will be getting upgrades to your hero costumes. You'll need to submit any necessary adjustments by the end of the week." A murmur rippled through the class, some students already thinking about potential improvements.

"Second, mock battles." Aizawa's sharp gaze moved across the room. "We're increasing the intensity. These will be one-on-one matchups with no interference. I want to see your instincts under pressure."

Excitement and apprehension flickered in the class, some students straightening in anticipation, others shifting uneasily.

"Next, upcoming written tests on hero ethics." Aizawa's expression darkened slightly, already predicting the complaints. "If you fail, you'll be dealing with remedial lessons during your free time."

Several groans. Kaminari slumped in his seat. "Come on, teach, we just got back into the groove of things…"

"I don't care," Aizawa interrupted bluntly. "You're training to be heroes, not overconfident brats who think they can punch their way through every situation."

Kaminari muttered something about "overachievers," but slumped back in defeat. Aizawa let the classroom settle for a moment before he finally moved to the last point on the board.

And the moment he wrote the words, the energy in the room shifted. U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL.

Aizawa turned back to the class. "As most of you already know, the U.A. Sports Festival is one of the most important events of the year." The murmuring increased. "Students from every course, not just the Hero Course, will be competing. That means General Studies, Business, and Support. The festival is open to Pro Heroes, agencies, and sponsors, meaning the better you perform, the higher your chances of getting scouted."

The weight of those words sank in. For so many of them, this was the first real chance to prove themselves—not just to U.A., but to Japan's hero society as a whole.

Kirishima grinned, nudging Kaminari. "Now this is more like it!"

Ashido leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Yeah, yeah! I've been waiting for this!"

Iida straightened in his seat. "A chance to display our abilities in a professional setting… this is an honor."

Izuku, however, felt something else entirely. After everything… after being kidnapped, imprisoned, interrogated, now he was being told that he would be competing against not only his classmates, but every U.A. student, in front of Pro Heroes, the world, everyone.

He felt a flicker of nervousness, but it was buried beneath something else.

Aizawa let the excitement settle before delivering his final words. "You have two weeks. Train, prepare, and don't slack off. Because if you fail to prove your worth here…" His eyes scanned the room, lingering on Izuku for only a second before moving on. "...then you might as well give up on becoming a hero."

As the rest of the students filtered out of the classroom as it ended, Izuku barely had a moment to breathe before a small group made their way toward him.

Ochako, Iida, Mina, Kaminari, and Kirishima… unsurprisingly. They had been the ones closest to him since the beginning. What did surprise him, however, was Todoroki. The boy had barely interacted with him before, only ever offering the occasional glance or observation. And yet, here he was, walking toward Izuku with the others, his usual unreadable expression in place.

Izuku shifted, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. He had just survived the initial classroom return, but this was something else entirely.

"Deku," Ochako was the first to speak, stepping closer, her usual brightness dimmed just slightly. "You're really okay, right?"

Izuku forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah. I—I mean, I'm still a little sore, but I'm okay."

Iida adjusted his glasses, his expression serious. "If there is anything troubling you, please, do not be afraid to tell us." He hesitated, then added, "We… we saw the broadcast. We know that you were kidnapped, that you were innocent, but… we don't know everything." His voice was careful, choosing words that wouldn't make Izuku retreat.

Mina tilted her head, stepping in beside Iida. "We're not asking for the full story, just… we just want to know if you need anything."

Kaminari, always the one to keep things light, grinned, though there was something in his eyes that told Izuku he was serious. "Yeah, man, you don't have to pretend like everything's fine just 'cause you're back."

Kirishima folded his arms, his usual wide grin in place, but his gaze was sharp, perceptive. "I mean, we all saw the way you fought back at the hero vs villain mock battle. You were crazy strong, almost too strong. And now, well… I dunno, you feel kinda different, man."

Ochako's expression softened, and she reached out, but then stopped herself before touching his arm, as if sensing that any sudden contact might startle him. "You're… quieter," she said. "And I don't mean that in a bad way. Just… different."

Izuku swallowed, the warmth in their words almost too much to bear. They didn't know. They couldn't know. The real truth had to stay buried. The death of Thirteen, his memories gone, all of it.

Nezu's words echoed in his mind, a reminder of what he had been told when he was still in the hospital, just after the media announcement.

"The truth must never be told, Midoriya. The world cannot know what really happened to Thirteen. To say it was you… even if unwillingly would destroy the very foundation of what we stand for. The people must believe she fell to villains, not to you. This is not a burden a child should bear."

His throat felt tight, but he forced himself to breathe through it.

"I—" He scrambled for something... anything to say that wouldn't make them worry. "I guess I just… need to adjust." He gave them what he hoped was a convincing grin, scratching the back of his head. "It's been… difficult. A lot happened."

Ochako's expression softened. "Yeah. That makes sense."

Iida nodded, arms still stiffly at his sides. "If you ever need anything, you must let us know. You are not alone, Midoriya."

Izuku tried not to let those words hit him too hard. If only you knew how alone I really am… But he smiled, because he had to.

"Thanks, guys."

Then, before the conversation could turn too heavy, Kirishima suddenly clapped his hands together, a wide, eager grin stretching across his face.

"Oh yeah! That reminds me!" He turned to Izuku, practically bouncing on his feet. "I just checked the matchups for the upcoming one-on-one mock battles, and guess what?"

Izuku blinked. "Uh… what?"

Kirishima pointed at himself with his thumb, grinning. "You and me, buddy!"

Izuku blinked again. "H-Huh?"

Kirishima laughed, eyes practically sparkling. "You have no idea how pumped I am for this! I didn't get to fight you last time 'cause you fought Iida and Ochaco instead! That was some crazy stuff, by the way—seriously, also fighting our teacher Aizawa and not getting completely destroyed? Insane, dude."

Izuku tensed for a split second. That was when I still had my old quirk… even now, what All Might told me about my vessel being incomplete to handle this new power.

Kirishima continued, completely unaware of Izuku's internal turmoil. "Man, this is gonna be awesome! I've been training hard, so don't think I'm gonna go easy on you!"

Izuku stared at him, unsure of what to say. The old him—the one before everything happened, would have likely grinned or mocked Kirishima's energy?

But now… Now he had One For All. He didn't even know how to fight anymore. His combat instincts, his old strategies, all of it had been tailored to a quirk he no longer had. He wasn't the same Midoriya Izuku who had stood against Aizawa that day.

And yet, despite everything, he found himself smiling, just a little. "Take it easy on me, okay?" The words left his mouth before he could stop them, and immediately, the group around him froze.

Even Todoroki's eyes flickered with something unreadable.

Ochako's mouth parted slightly in surprise. "H-Huh?"

Kirishima's grin faltered for a second. "Wait, what?"

Mina squinted at him. "Hold on. You? The same guy who tore through the hero vs villain battle? The same guy who took on Aizawa freaking Eraserhead?" She waved a hand. "Nah, no way."

Kaminari snorted. "Dude, what are you talking about? You're terrifying in battle. You're like, way too good at it. I was actually kinda hoping I wouldn't have to fight you."

Izuku hesitated, shifting slightly under their scrutiny. "I… I mean, I've been through a lot."

Kirishima tilted his head, watching him carefully. "Yeah… I guess that makes sense. But still, I was really looking forward to this fight." Then, he grinned again. "But hey! I guess I'll just have to force the old Midoriya out of you, huh?"

Izuku chuckled weakly, though the words lingered uncomfortably in his chest. The old Midoriya. Who even was that? He didn't want to know, he was terrified of it and of his past self. He forced himself to push the thoughts aside, to focus on the moment in front of him. Because despite everything, despite the uncertainty, the weight of secrets, the fear of what would come next, they were still here.

They were still talking to him.

Still treating him like Midoriya Izuku.

And for now… that was enough.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I don't have much to say for this one, except that I hope you're enjoying Izuku's journey. Until next time!