Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aizawa hadn’t been able to find Gami after he unceremoniously left yesterday. He’d tried searching the hospital for him, paying close attention to any flickering lights or strange noises, but there wasn’t too much he could reasonably look for. He’d walked around, pencil and pad in hand, hoping some unseen force would rip it from him. But he hadn’t had any luck, and regrettably gave up in favor of other responsibilities.

Aizawa returned to the conference room yesterday alone, and despite his previous insistence, he told Tsuakuchi to hold off digging into Gami’s past life unless they had no other leads left. He wasn’t sure where the ghost went, but if he decided to follow him back in secret, he didn’t want to damage their working relationship further.

They broke for the day after that. Aizawa promised that if managed to get back into contact with Gami, he’d let everyone else know.

He went to sleep last night, and woke up this morning still without a clue where the ghost could be.

Aizawa stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom, locking eyes with his empty reflection. He smoothed out his suit, pressed and proper on his exhausted body. U.A. was holding a press conference later today to address what had unfolded at the training camp. It was going to be a shitshow; Aizawa knew that much. For once however, he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed with it. 

“This term has already been dangerous enough; we just can’t risk another incident.”

U.A. was responsible for each and every one of their students. Their parents, the public, the country placed their trust in them to keep these children safe, despite far too many incidents this year already. He couldn’t blame any of the outrage, not when his students had come so close to danger and death. He couldn’t blame any of the parents when they could’ve lost a child that night. They were heroes in training, sure, but they were kids first.

And so Aizawa stood in front of his reflection, who stared back with the usual annoyance he held for conferences like these, while he allowed himself to grieve.

“I can understand why you’re hesitant, but… I promise you I’ll keep him safe.”

Damnit, he’d promised that night. That night Midoriya had come to his room to confide in his premonition, he’d promised that he would keep Bakugo safe so Midoriya didn’t have to worry. He didn’t want Midoriya to handle everything by himself anymore; he wanted to give the boy his fair shot like everyone else had. He’d convinced Midoriya that he’d make sure everything would be okay; he’d allowed the boy to relax, to forget about the responsibility for once. 

Aizawa gripped the edges of the sink tight, before wheezing a few breaths between his teeth. He let go slowly, reaching for a hairbrush on the counter to start smoothing down his hair.

“We’re working together now; you don’t have to do this all by yourself anymore.”

He never intended to break that promise to Midoriya. He never intended to leave him out there, in the middle of the burning forest, alone and injured, to pick up his own slack. He’d promised to keep Bakugo safe so Midoriya didn’t have to. None of them saw the attack coming, but it didn’t matter. He promised, and he tried to uphold that promise, but it didn’t matter because he hadn’t.

One strand of hair in the front popped back up and out of place. Aizawa grumbled, reaching for the tub of gel to force it back down.

”Yeah, so you either stopped it today… or we’ll stop it tomorrow.”

Midoriya and him had a lot more in common than either of them cared to admit. He was paranoid that night, the night before the camp got attacked. Aizawa was no stranger to crippling paranoia; it was part of what made him such a good underground hero. He never took anything at face value, not unless he saw it with his own two eyes. But that kind of paranoia… it kept everything away, good and bad. It had taken him years to find people who could handle that side of him, because it wasn’t something he was willing to sacrifice, not for most.

But… he’d just wanted Midoriya to finally feel safe enough to relax, to let go of all that weight for once. He wanted him to feel like a kid, like a student, like someone who didn’t have to worry about the responsibility that came with being a full-fledged hero. Midoriya had been worried that night, worried that Bakugo was still in danger, that his premonition was still active. And Aizawa had smoothed it all down, good intentions and all, because something else outweighed all his years of instinct.

Aizawa ran a hand over his slicked back hair again, and that one strand in the front came back up again. He twitched, fingers bunching into a fist on their own. His hands shook as he forced himself to relax.

“You’re not doing this alone anymore.”

But Midoriya still had done it all alone. Midoriya had rescued Kota alone. He defeated Muscular alone. He saved Bakugo alone. All not because he could, but because he had to. Because Aizawa hadn’t been there like he said he would. Because he didn’t have anyone else.

The hair lifted up again.

Aizawa snatched the brush from the counter, nearly flinging it to the floor by accident, trying to smooth it all down.

“We’ll figure this out, and he’ll be fine.”

They hadn’t figured it out though. Did that make Aizawa a liar, or an idiot?

Bakugo was alive, all the rest of his students had survived, but nothing about this was fine. Not when it had taken Midoriya giving up everything yet again.

Aizawa set the brush down.

The hair immediately popped back up.

“Damnit!” His hand shot out for the hairbrush again, but it was too much. He couldn’t quite get his fingers to wrap around the handle, and it clattered to the floor.

He tried to reach down for it, but he collapsed over the sink instead, hands gripping the edge of the countertop like a lifeline, like if he went down too, he wouldn’t be able to get back up.

His reflection only stared blankly, this empty, professional gaze of the hero he was, the hero he had to be for the camera, while everything else he was mourned.

“Shouta…?”

The bathroom door slowly pushed open as Yamada carefully poked his head in. He only saw Aizawa’s back hunched over the sink, so he pushed in further.

“Are you okay…?”

The reflection in the mirror finally cracked.

“I was right there…” Aizawa choked out, losing the strength to stand. “Fuck, I was right there.” 

He didn’t even realize he was falling, until Yamada’s arms were around him, slowly guiding him to the floor on his knees. 

“I was right there; I promised him that he didn’t have to keep doing this all by himself anymore.” Aizawa grieved through gritted teeth, still trying to hold it all in. “I promised him, I convinced him that we would handle it together, and then I left him out there alone.”

Yamada looked at him softly, his eyes rippling with his own regret. “We both made that promise to him. It wasn’t just you… it wasn’t just you who wasn’t there for him.”

“I want Midori safe and happy just as much as you do… so we need to do this together.”

Aizawa glanced up, past the open bathroom door and into the hall, where Midoriya’s closed bedroom door was. “Damnit, he should be right here. He should be here, safe, and he’s not.”

Yamada peered over his own shoulder to stare at the door too, quiet and untouched as it had remained since the trip began.

“I don’t have anyone to be angry at other than myself… I couldn’t get to him in time, but he’s still gone, and that hurts so much.” Aizawa placed a hand over his eyes, sinking further into Yamada’s arms. “I just want to point and be angry at somebody else, like anyone else would get to, and I can’t because it’s my fault…”

Yamada just held him, letting him sob in his arms, before thinking about the door again. “He should be here; he should be home.”

Aizawa lifted his head out of Yamada’s shoulder to look up at him.

Yamada only gave him a sad smile. “Hey… technically you said it first… but I think we’ve both known for a while now. You and I, we’re his home… and I like that.”

“We’re happy to have you with us, and we want you to be happy too.”

Aizawa wiped his face with a pained chuckle. “I guess I did say that…” 

“You’re Midoriya Izuku before anything, and Midoriya Izuku is worth loving.”

“That’s his room, in his home, and damnit… he should be in there. He should be here.”

Yamada brushed his thumb under Aizawa’s eye, smudging the last of his tears, tracing his finger over the scar left from the USJ attack.

“I know, so we're going to get him back. We’re going to bring him home.”

Aizawa cupped Yamada’s hand in his own, leaning into the touch.

“You’re right; let’s bring our kid home.”

—————

Aizawa drove alone to U.A.

Yamada had offered to drive him, and if it were any other circumstance, he would’ve taken it. But there were bound to be nosy reporters lurking around before the conference, and he didn’t need another open can of worms. So he settled for Yamada’s help in pressing himself proper: smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit, combing down his hair, covering the redness around his eyes with primer. He left like a 1950s salaryman, complete with the blank look in his eyes. But he left determined, invigorated, set on a purpose, as he fixed his tie once again before stepping out of his car and into the school through one of the staff entrances.

The parking lot was empty. Most of them were. Nezu had made the choice to shut down classes for the week and start moving students into dorms. Essentials were being provided by U.A.; travel on and off campus was limited until Midoriya was rescued. They couldn’t afford to have another student be targeted right now, not when shit was inevitably going to hit the fan already.

The conference wasn’t starting for another two hours, but Nezu paged him beforehand to arrive early along with Vlad King so they could all prepare responses. They needed to be on the same page; things would only get infinitely worse if they contradicted each other on live television.

So Aizawa strolled his way up to Nezu’s office, the halls eerily void and quiet. He’d stayed after hours at U.A. before, but this wasn’t quite the same. It felt disassociative, like he was wading through a strange lucid dream. It felt dystopian, like he was stumbling through the rubble of war.

He knocked lightly on Nezu’s closed office door, like there was someone else who could overhear in the empty halls.

Nezu cracked it open, looking up slowly. “Ah, Aizawa… you’re here early.”

His voice was small, smaller than Aizawa had ever heard the principal in a long, long time.

“Yeah…” Aizawa shrugged lightly, glancing into the room. “Is Kan here yet?”

Nezu shook his head softly. “No, you’re early.” He reiterated, but held the door open wider regardless. “Come in.”

The hero carefully strolled inside, hands tucked in his suit pockets as Nezu closed the door gently behind him. The office was brighter than he expected, curtains pushed to the side for full view out of the massive window behind Nezu’s oversized desk. He walked over, peering out past his faint reflection in the glass. There were already some reporters waiting outside the closed campus gates.

“They’ve been starting to gather already.” Nezu joined him by the window, staring down at the vast expanse of campus. “We should get started, even without Kan. We can fill him in when he gets here.”

But Aizawa’s gaze shifted, away from the press dotted like ants on the sidewalk below, to Nezu’s faded frown reflected off the glass next to him. 

“Nothing we say is going to matter if you start the press conference looking like that.” Aizawa stared out through the window still, locking eyes with his own reflection, watching Nezu’s beady eyes drop through the glass.

The principal hummed in acknowledgement, but his reflection didn’t change, still solemn and softspoken.

“You know, I should be thinking more about everything that’s happened as of late…” He drifted off, the words drying up on his lips. “But… I just keep thinking about how I’ve been avoiding Midoriya since the final exam. I still haven’t apologized to him yet.”

“I’m aware.” Aizawa replied, trailing off.

“It’s all been stuck in my mind; I regret to think that all this could’ve been on his mind since the final exam too.”

“It has been.” Aizawa spoke pointedly. “He’s been asking about you. He wants to talk to you, but he’s willing to respect your boundaries. He’s been waiting for you, Nezu.”

Aizawa didn’t move, still staring through the glass. Nezu didn’t move either. But his reflection watched Nezu’s flinch guiltily, tail tucked between his legs.

Then, Nezu did move, balling his fists at his sides as he squeezed his eyes shut in shame. “The last thing I wanted was Midoriya in the hands of these villains while believing that U.A. doesn’t care for him, but selfishly, I didn’t want Midoriya thinking that I don’t care for him…”

He turned away from the window, one hand gripping the chest of his suit while the other went to paw away at the weakness in his eyes.

“But in my shame, I’ve only perpetuated the thought-”

“Stop talking like that.”

Nezu glanced back to see Aizawa also away from the window, stepped back to face him, rather than his reflection.

“Stop talking like we’ve lost him.”

The rodent furrowed his brows, confusion drying up his tears. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

The hero moved closer, until they were both away from the window, away from the press, away from anything greater than just the two of them.

“You see yourself in Midoriya, a part of yourself you wished someone had come and saved; we’ve established that.”

“You saw a piece of yourself —your former self— in Midoriya. And you wanted to protect him the same way you wished someone had for you.”

“So you of all people should know that he’s a fighter, just like the parts of you that fought to be saved in the first place.” 

“Because you fought them to get to where you are right now.”

Aizawa glanced towards the window again, and Nezu followed him, looking out at the vast expanse of U.A. that stretched far from the view of Nezu’s office.

“Midoriya’s been a fighter even before he stepped foot in U.A.” The hero admitted. “This school… hell, us heroes in general, we didn’t make Midoriya who he is. He’s been a hero since day one.”

Aizawa thought back to the night the camp got attacked.

“One of the villains’ targets has been identified!! Bakugo needs to avoid battle!! Don’t make any moves alone!!”

Aizawa thought back to the day at the mall.

“You held it together while he was threatening you and other civilians; most people would’ve gotten scared and started panicking. It was thanks to your cool head that nobody got hurt.”

Aizawa thought back to the night in Hosu.

“Gran Torino called me after you, Iida, and Todoroki were admitted to the hospital.”

Aizawa thought back to the day of the USJ incident.

“I’m giving you permission to protect yourself and others… by any means necessary.” 

Aizawa thought back to their very first training exercise.

“Bakugo, the training exercise is over!!”

Aizawa thought back to the first time he ever even saw Midoriya.

“Someone is going to get seriously hurt if that thing isn’t stopped.”

“But… what we did was stand behind him, even when other people were hesitant to.”  Aizawa looked back to Nezu —the real Nezu— not the reflection of his guilt. “We didn’t make him a hero, but Midoriya’s used to being a hero alone. We taught him that he doesn’t have to be.”

The principal looked up from his small place at the ground. “But what if he already believes it…?”

They went silent for a moment.

“Tonight, quite possibly the entire country is going to insist that Midoriya is out there alone. So it’s on us to remind everyone that we haven’t turned our backs on him.” The hero’s voice petered out into something as small as Nezu looked right now. “If not for any of them, then for the chance —however small— that Midoriya is listening too.”

They went quiet again.

Nezu looked down at his paws, like he’d forgotten they belonged to him and not some other caged animal.

Aizawa cleared his throat, bringing the principal’s attention back to him. “So stop talking like we aren’t going to get him back. We will bring him home-” he paused- “and then I’m locking both of you in a room until you apologize and make up.”

“We promised Midoriya that we would fight this with him.”

Nezu snorted softly, wiping at his eyes. He let the small smile on his cheeks be.

They both turned back to the window. More people were crowding at the gate.

“Let’s not keep him waiting any longer then.”

—————

Nezu, Aizawa, and Vlad King all took a collective breath before entering the conference room. It was just another room on U.A.’s campus, repurposed to accommodate the extensive coils of microphone cables and crowded tripods for video cameras. Aizawa glanced around; he almost didn’t recognize the room, not with all the padding on the walls to dampen the noise, or the mismatched chairs brought in to seat the masses. Some people looked back at him, and Aizawa fought the urge to recoil away.

The scattered chattering of reporters quieted as they walked in, stopping stiffly behind a long, conjoined desk as cameras flashed in their faces. Aizawa brushed his hands over the sides of his suit, careful to keep the sound from picking up on the mic in front of him. He forced himself to stare out blankly, avoiding eye contact with any reporter or camera in particular. This wasn’t his first press conference, even as an underground hero, but he fought the pounding in his chest as if it was.

The three took a deep bow together before seating.

“I regret to announce that our unpreparedness was responsible for the harm that came to 27 of our first-year students.” Nezu spoke softly, but his voice refused to waver. “Though we are an institution for heroes in training, we were nonetheless negligent in our defense against villains, and we understand that this has made many of you uneasy.”

The principal clasped his hands in his lap. Only Aizawa could see how they shook from his peripherals.

“We apologize for this deeply and sincerely. There is absolutely no excuse for what has occurred.”

Nezu stopped speaking. The press took that as their signal to lunge.

Even with U.A.’s media control helping to mediate the conversation, the press still snapped and lurched like circling sharks for a microphone. Finally, the mic settled with one reporter, and the chaos quieted.

“Question from NHA-” A sharply dressed man turned harshly to Nezu, almost singling him out. “This makes the fourth time this year that U.A. students have been confronted by villains. Given that some were injured again, what explanation have you given to their understandably concerned families? Furthermore, please tell us in concrete terms what measures you’ve taken to prevent these sorts of incidents in the future.”

Aizawa resisted the twitch in his eye. Nezu didn’t take the bait, reaching calmly for the microphone on the desk in front of him.

“We’ve increased surveillance of the surrounding areas and revamped our school’s security system. We’ve explained to parents that our strong stance against villains will guarantee the students’ safety.” Nezu explained. “Furthermore, we’ve begun moving students into residences on campus to keep them better protected for the time being.”

Aizawa could only watch as the crowd murmured amongst each other, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. He kept his gaze sharp, watching the microphone pass around hands until it finally landed with another reporter.

The man with the microphone stood, reaching into his pocket for a small notebook. “You claim it’s for the students’ safety, but in the middle of the attack, you urged the students themselves to fight-” he suddenly locked eyes with Aizawa- “Mr. Eraserhead, what were your intentions at that point?”

Aizawa cleared his throat, leaning towards his microphone. “Since we had no way of grasping the full nature of the situation… I made the decision in an attempt to avoid the worst case scenario.”

He stilled his hands on the desk as his mind replayed flashes of that night, stuck fighting outside the lodge as he knew the rest of his students were in danger, as Mandalay’s voice replayed in his head what he already knew.

“One of the villains’ targets has been identified!! Bakugo needs to avoid battle!! Don’t make any moves alone!!”

But the reporter looked at him strangely, mixed with confusion and distaste. “Worse case scenario? How else would you describe a situation where 26 were wounded and one was kidnapped?”

Finally, Aizawa couldn’t resist the furrow in his brows.

“I had a premonition.”

Midoriya had tried to warn him about the worst case scenario, and Aizawa fought the simmering guilt inside him as he came to terms yet again that he’d left the boy alone to prevent it. His mind tried to remind him of the raging fires surrounding him, the suffocating smoke in his lungs, the desperation in his instincts with nowhere to escape, but all he could do was blame himself anyway.

“It was about Bakugo. It- he…”

“At that moment, the worst case I could imagine involved the deaths of my students.”

Vlad King sent him a reassuring glance out of his peripherals, but all Aizawa could see was the uninterested look of the reporter in front of him.

Nezu tried to take over. “It became clear that the gas responsible for most of the harm was a villain’s quirk that had a soporific effect. Class 1B students Kendo’s and Tetsutetsu’s quick thinking helped to minimize most of the damage. The students have all received psychological evaluations and none seem to have suffered emotional trauma.”

But the reporter refused to hold back, his sights still set on Aizawa. “Is that meant to be a silver lining?”

“We believe the worst has been avoided as long as the students still have their futures.” The principal reiterated just as firmly, before Aizawa could even open his mouth.

“Can you say the same about Midoriya Izuku, who was abducted?”

The three heroes were all momentarily caught off guard, and the reporter sank in his teeth.

“Midoriya placed first in this year’s entrance exam, and he placed highly in your Sports Festival. He clearly has the making of a powerful hero, yet he also clearly has a dangerous and violent quirk, one with the potential to cause a concerning amount of harm. A quirk eerily similar to the leader of the League of Villains himself.” The reporter scowled into the microphone. “What if it was those very qualities that made him a target? What actions will you take should Midoriya choose a path of evil?”

Aizawa felt his gaze harden. He knew the reporter was just trying to rile him up; his distrust for the media was as obvious as they come. But the boil in his blood was difficult to fight in all the worst ways.

“You’re a good kid, Midoriya, and I’ve met a lot of kids… but the world is full of unfairness. I don’t want everything you’ve worked for to go to waste because other people are afraid of things that are different and hard to control.”

That was his kid. His kid being ripped apart on live television. His kid being compared to the scum of villainy. And for what? For having power he never asked for and still trying to do good with it?

“You’re worthy of trust and love, regardless of your quirk… because your quirk doesn’t define you.”

He tried to convince himself that he’d feel this way about any of his students being spat out of that reporter’s mouth. 

“We’re happy to have you with us, and we want you to be happy too.”

He could not.

Aizawa stood up more aggressively than he intended, but he steeled his emotions, bowing deeply to the cameras and the press.

“Any lapse in his behavior is my failing-” the hero glanced up at the crowd with a firm look in his eye, the same determination Yamada had left him with earlier- “however, more than anyone, Midoriya pursues the title of hero with everything he has. If the villains have mistaken something as superficial as the nature of his quirk for weakness, then their thought process is indeed shallow.”

Aizawa moved to sit back down, breathing deeply while the microphone in front of him couldn’t catch it, when the reporter thumbed through his notebook.

“If I may have one last question…” The reporter settled on a specific page, skimming it over. “There are rumors that one of your students has been placed in the care of U.A., that student being Midoriya Izuku. For your institution to take such decisive action, that would imply he has no one else to support him: not his mother, not his father, nor any relatives at all. Seeing as he has no support system to keep him aligned with the heroes, what is your concrete counter-strategy should the boy be manipulated into siding with villainy?”

The room devolved into hushed whispers, with other reporters frantically jotting down the new information, chattering amongst themselves at the sudden revelation.

Aizawa froze mid-motion, caught between the raging thoughts that suddenly burst into flame within him.

How dare they…

“You’re Midoriya Izuku before anything, and Midoriya Izuku is worth loving.”

How dare they speak like they knew anything about him at all.

Aizawa found himself reaching for his microphone before any of his thoughts were aligned. He couldn’t focus on anything, nothing except how ready the world was to see Midoriya emerge from this as a villain, like the boy hadn’t been fighting that notion in the back of his own thoughts his whole life already. And suddenly, all he could think about was Midoriya listening to this, listening to the world agree that he was something that needed to be stopped, like he really was the threat he believed himself to be.

His hand reached for the microphone, fingers nearly wrapped around it, when Nezu beat him to it.

“If I may-” Nezu stood up on his chair, making himself appear as tall as possible, yanking his own microphone up with him- “as principal of U.A., I believe I can speak on behalf of its students, of any of my students.”

Aizawa stuttered for a moment, an image he knew he’d come to regret being captured on camera, before placing his hands back on the desk.

“As an institution, we did not admit Midoriya Izuku because of his strength, nor because of his powerful quirk, but because of the person that he is.” Nezu paused for a moment. “Midoriya has always cared deeply about the lives of others, whether it’s his classmates, his teachers, the people he crosses on the street, or even those he’s never met.”

Aizawa’s heart hammered in his chest, still trying to calm down and compose himself. He tuned out of the scavenging media in front of him, away from the cameras and flashing lights and predatory stares, and focused completely on Nezu’s words like a lifeline. 

“Midoriya has always had the heart of a hero since even before stepping foot on the grounds of U.A. He is a testament to the principles and values of our institution at its very core, but more importantly, he’s a shining example of the selflessness that heroes old and new should aspire to.”

Nezu refused to flinch, eyes and words steady as the truth in his heart. He was sorry it hadn’t come out before. He was sorry if Midoriya had ever come to doubt it.

“So for everyone: for you all, the public, the heroes, even the villains, but especially for Midoriya…” He placed a paw at his chest. “Know that he has a place here at U.A., and as its principal, I am personally cooperating with the police in their investigation. We will not approach this passively.”

Nezu took the time to lock eyes with each and every camera he could see, hoping that through one of them, Midoriya could see him looking back.

“Make no mistake, we will bring him home.”

Midoriya slowly blinked his eyes open. He wasn’t sure when he’d managed to fall asleep, or if he finally got to pass out like his body intended. But immediately, he wished he could go right back to unconsciousness.

He felt disgusting, his skin taut over his bones like shrink wrap. His one arm had long gone numb, skin black and blue like the mangled remains of a corpse, nothing more than a dull throb reminding him it was still there. He was sure the same coloration stretched up his side from whatever internal bleeding was wracking his body. His chest in general felt warped, ribs cocked in mismatched patterns that pushed against his flesh from the inside. And the new wound Shigaraki gave him itched, pulling against his instinctual need to breathe as the charred scar refused to stretch.

He was gross and sweaty. He was thirsty and hungry. He was dizzy. He was tired. And he just wanted to go home.

Midoriya looked around; the room was unexpectedly empty. The bar was clear of drinks, the tables wiped down clean, the curtains closed and still. It didn’t look like anyone had even stepped into the room all day. Midoriya doubted that though. They’d probably come in and out while he sat passed out. That thought didn’t make him feel much better.

He couldn’t really tell what time it was. He assumed it was sometime into the next day, but not much more than that. There weren’t any windows in this room, and if there had been any wall clocks, they had been taken down just for him.

Midoriya wanted to take a deep breath, but he couldn’t even do that anymore, only huffed gasps able to pass in and out of his lungs without much pain. There was nothing else he could do but try and keep the pain to a minimum while he was awake, far too weak anymore to try fighting. He wasn’t going to win a fight, even if he couldn’t die, not against every villain in the league with the condition of a rotting corpse. No… but he knew his way out.

He just had to outlast, through the fear, hunger, pain, and all, until someone screwed up enough for him to run, or until he got rescued.

“Well… you’re finally awake.”

God, he really hoped one of those options came soon.

Midoriya lifted his head to lock tired eyes with Shigaraki, strolling into the room with Kurogiri following behind.

The villain sent him a blinding smile, one with far too many teeth. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness all day…! I was starting to get a little bored, but you seem coherent enough.” Shigaraki fiddled with the small bottle of smelling salts in his hand, before finally pocketing them. “Shame, but I guess I’ll just save these for later then…”

Midoriya could only watch him closely, his body beginning to tense on its own despite the aching way it pulled his skin.

“You know, I had such a great idea. And after yesterday, I guess I could give you a bit of a break.” He walked over to the monitor at the end of the bar counter, reaching for the remote off to the side instead. “You see, there’s a broadcast happening right about now that I think would be fun for both of us to watch together-”

Shigaraki pressed the power button on the remote, but the monitor didn’t seem to turn on like usual, instead flipping to a seemingly empty screen with a dim, fuzzy hue.

“Ah, Tomura, apologies for the interruption.”

A smooth voice that Midoriya had never heard before echoed from the monitor’s speakers. Shigaraki instantly straightened.

“Sensei…”

Midoriya instantly paled.

This… was this All For One?

“I understand you had plans for today, and I don’t mean to derail them-” Midoriya couldn’t stop his heart from pounding violently, even with the rattling in his chest- “but I’ve been dying for an opportunity to chat with our guest for some time now.”

Shigaraki grumbled almost apprehensively. “Well… I-”

But the voice cut him off gently. “I’m sorry, Tomura. I didn't mean to put you in a tight spot. I understand that your plans are very important to you. How careless of me to interrupt them anyway.” There was a heavy sigh through the speakers, laced with thick disappointment. “I was just excited; it’s been such a long time since I’ve been this excited for something.”

“No, no, Sensei it’s… it’s fine.” Shigaraki nodded a few times to himself, then turned to the monitor almost like a pleased child. “Take as much time as you’d like. We’ll watch the broadcast another time.”

“Oh, thank you, Tomura.” The smile was audible. “How considerate of you; I’m very grateful.”

Midoriya swore Shigaraki practically beamed at the screen.

“Kurogiri, please escort our guest.”

And then, the monitor went black.

Midoriya had to focus before his eyes settled on his returned reflection in the blank screen, before he remembered there were two other villains in the room with him still, before he processed one of them moving closer.

His eyes then locked onto Kurogiri’s approaching form, watching him intently like a rabbit backed into a corner, trained on his every move like one wrong blink would leave jaws around his neck. He watched, body painfully tense, until the man was just barely in his peripherals, a hand placed on the back of the metal chair he called his prison.

“Don’t be rude-” Midoriya snapped up at Shigaraki’s voice, the other thankfully still on the other side of the room by the monitor- “Sensei has been so eager to meet you for a long while now. It’s not in your best interest to disappoint him.”

Shigaraki turned away, beginning to walk back out the room the way he came, as thick purple smoke enveloped Midoriya and his chair from the bottom up.

He didn’t have a chance to catch his breath, as the chair sank lower and lower into the portal beneath him, until he was sure the smoke was suffocating him from the inside.

He fell through like a drop of molasses, slowly at first, until all of a sudden he and the chair slammed harshly to the floor. The impact seized through his body, up his broken bones and out of his fried nerves. Midoriya couldn’t stop his involuntary gasp, but that only made things worse as his lungs pushed too far against his ribs, leaving him caught in a cycle of coughs and wheezes as the shock slowly wore off. His brain was too overwhelmed to catch up as his eyes shot around to his new surroundings, desperately looking for something to ground himself.

Instead, he found himself in front of a man —at least, it looked to have been human once— sharply dressed and sitting calmly with his hands clasped in his lap. Cables and tubing stretched out from his back, hooked up to a disorganized array of constantly fluctuating machinery attached to the modified office chair he was sitting in. One tube went up to the man’s nose, connecting to an oxygen mask over his mouth. There was nothing else above: no eyes, no face, just a horrifying clump of veins and flesh, like a cancerous tumor.

Even beneath the mask, Midoriya could see the man smile at him.

Even without eyes, Midoriya could feel the man look at him.

“Thank you, Kurogiri. You can leave now.”

It was the same voice as the one over the monitor.

It took everything to keep the trembling in his heart from reaching the surface of his skin.

Kurogiri didn’t say a word, disappearing in his own portal and leaving Midoriya alone with the man before him.

“Midoriya Izuku… so good to finally meet you.” The man drawled, savoring the moment as he raised his hand to rest his chin. “You can call me… All For One.”

“He went by the name of his quirk, All For One.”

All For One didn’t wait for the boy’s thoughts to catch up.”I have heard so much about you…” He chuckled, but it came out muffled from behind the oxygen mask. “Of course, Tomura has his opinions, but it’s good that he understands, at least somewhat, just how pivotal you are.”

Midoriya felt his eyes shaking from within his skull, rattling like loose marbles as he was stuck staring at the villain before him. He tried to keep his breathing under control, tried to force his fear back down to a simmer, but he remained stuck in a trance of morbid curiosity, trapped on the man’s deformed face.

How the hell was he still alive?

“One who steals quirks has no limits; anything’s possible.”

But the back of Midoriya’s thoughts weren’t satisfied.

“Immortality is something this world has never truly seen, and while there are some who can mimic it, that could never quite compare to the real thing.” All For One cocked his head, looking down at Midoriya with intrigue. “You’re quite special, aren’t you? Even beyond that, you’re quite special…”

Midoriya shivered. A naive part of him wanted to refute that claim; perhaps if he could convince All For One that he wasn’t worth anything at all, the man would let him go. But even if he could get the rest of himself to believe in such a foolish idea, Midoriya couldn’t trust his own mouth to say the right words, not with the way his thoughts screamed at him from the back of his head.

He should be dead.

He should be dead.

The words thrashed ragefully against the sides of his skull, until Midoriya wasn’t sure they were even his thoughts anymore.

All For One took his silence differently. “There’s no need to be humble. It’s true; what you are is remarkable, unique. So I’m sure you can understand just how desirable that is to someone like me.”

Midoriya felt his hands beginning to itch, decay swelling painfully at his fingertips. But there was nowhere for it to go, other than gather helplessly in his veins, burning like vodka.

That thing should not be alive.

And then, the villain reached out.

Midoriya tried to scoot away, but the restraints kept him locked in place, unable to do anything but squirm fruitlessly as All For One’s hand extended out to him. His petrified gaze was equally locked on the hand, a hand far too smooth and lively for something like him, something that had lived far too long. The thing before him wasn’t mortal, wasn’t human, but merely a disease with the audacity to persist. All For One was breaking the rules, and if Midoriya was good for anything, he’d kill him, bite the hand reaching for him and tear off his fingers with his teeth-

Midoriya shrank away, away from the hand and the thoughts that he desperately hoped weren’t his. But he could escape neither.

All For One wrapped his fingers firmly around the boy’s head, resting his palm just above his eyes.

Midoriya waited to feel his flesh and blood crushed in the grasp.

But… after a few moments, the hand slowly retreated, along with the intensity of the screaming in his head, and Midoriya peeked open his eyes.

“Ah, well that was expected…” A sigh left him, but it didn’t sound all that disappointed. “There’s not even a sliver of a quirk inside of you.”

Midoriya felt his heart slowly die back down, gasping for breath as the ringing in his ears finally drifted off. Had… had All For One tried to take his powers? He didn’t even have a quirk to lose; he didn’t have a life to lose, why the fuck was he so scared damnit-

“You see… many, many years ago, I met someone quite similar to you. He had a handful of interesting abilities, but of course I’ve met many of those…” The villain returned to leaning back relaxed in his chair. “His, however, predated even the birth of quirks. He was something else entirely.”

And just as his heart returned to being as calm as he could manage, it dropped to the pit of his stomach.

“Midoriya, is there any possibility that All For One may have known Gami when he was alive?” 

“The origins of quirks are a mystery, especially in the beginning, so imagine my excitement when I found a new mystery, an even more secretive mystery, all wrapped up like a gift just for me.”

No.. no, no it couldn’t be-

“Tell me, Midoriya… have you ever heard of the legend of The Sandoman?”

It took a few silent moments for the boy to realize the villain was actually waiting on a response this time.

His voice came out dry and weak. “T-The… the story?”

All For One seemed to smile wider after he spoke. “Ah, I suppose it has developed into something of a children’s tale. But I’m sure you know that all stories are based in some truth, and before it ever was just a simple story, The Sandoman was a legend that terrified Japan silently for over a hundred years.”

“If anyone would have knowledge on something like this, it would either be one of my predecessors, or All For One himself.”

Midoriya flinched. It couldn’t be him, it couldn’t be Gami he was talking about. It just couldn’t!

“People would disappear into the night, never to be heard from again, nothing but dust left behind. Of course people would think it was an evil, angry spirit; they had no reason to believe quirks or anything of the sort even existed back then.” He laughed mockingly, shaking his head in disappointment. “So when the disappearances finally stopped, people simply assumed The Sandoman had finally moved on…”

All For One’s smile grew wide from under the mask, nearly matching the horrifying glee of Shigaraki’s, teeth and all.

“But he didn’t. I found him.”

“Even I do not even know the extent of my sins.”

But the exhilaration faded as All For One continued to reminisce. “Unfortunately, I was very young then, young and regrettably overeager. I wanted The Sandoman to join me, because otherwise I’d have to kill him… but I could do neither.” This time, when he sighed, the dissatisfaction was clear as day. “Ultimately, he became harder and harder to find, until, to my disappointment, I couldn’t find him again.”

For the first time since Midoriya had been dropped in the room, the villain finally looked away from him, resting his head on his hand and leaning against the armrest of his chair. Without any eyes, it was impossible to be sure where his attention truly was, but his head was pointed off in the distance, seemingly searching for a thought far away.

“It makes me wonder what he’s up to… considering something like him wouldn’t disappear from this world.” He chuckled lightly. “No… something like him that did so much damage and still stuck around wouldn’t disappear for much else.”

“I’m afraid to look down at my hands, because I see them stained with blood and dust…”

All For One turned back to him. “But I couldn’t quite forget him, not even all these years later. There was so much untapped potential; so much innate destruction, so much persistent force…” He looked almost longingly at the wires and cords that stretched from his body. “I tried to replicate what I could using amalgamations of quirks, and while I have lived for centuries, what I have is nowhere near true immortality, not like The Sandoman. Even with practically every quirk at my disposal, it just doesn’t compare…”

He shrugged, leaning back once again, the tubes and cables jostling behind him.

“All these years later, after losing such an enigma, I even tried making my own… but it isn’t quite the same.”

Midoriya stared, until his eyes widened and his mind grasped the horror of what he meant.

“You’re just like me.”

Him and Shigaraki… their similarities weren’t a coincidence-

“And then, I found you, Midoriya. When Shigaraki first described you to me, I was intrigued, and when I first saw you during the Sports Festival, I just knew. I could see him in every display of your power, in sheer brutality and tenacity. You and The Sandoman… you’re connected in a way. You’re not him, but you’re like him: you’re something else entirely.”

Midoriya’s mind kept getting caught, on how long All For One had known everything, on how he’d been doomed to this from the start, on how Gami quite possibly knew All For One for centuries.

“My centuries-long search can finally end; it’s almost bittersweet.”

The villain extended a hand once again, this time stopping at the space between them.

“Join me, Midoriya Izuku.”

Midoriya didn’t miss how he said it.

Not the league, not Shigaraki.

Him.

It took him another painful set of moments to realize All For One was again waiting on a reply; he couldn’t exactly shake hands in his restraints, even if he wanted to. But he didn’t want to. Even as a lie, he didn’t want to. That’s what everyone was waiting for: him to make a stupid decision in a moment of desperation. He wasn’t going to be able to escape, not like this, chained down with all his injuries. It would only make sense for him to lie, to agree and say that he’d join them, and then try to escape after they freed him. They’d be stupid not to expect it.

A part of Midoriya wanted him to try anyway. He wasn’t getting anywhere like this; two days in and barely conscious, in a worse condition than before. At least if he agreed and they released him, he might have a chance to run.

But an equally stubborn part of him refused. He refused to give in; he refused to give the world proof that he was just like they’d feared he’d be. He wondered just how much of the world expected him to come out of this a villain, convinced that he’d be convinced to betray everyone. If it was All Might being held hostage, the world would only wait for him to beat the people dumb enough to ever think they could convert him. But it was Midoriya wrapped in chains, and he wondered just how many people were wondering just how long he’d last.

Midoriya stared shakily at him, torn between looking at the outstretched hand, or the man it belonged to. 

“Well, I know that with my quirk… it won’t be easy for people to trust me. It might take an extra level of convincing just to prove that I truly mean no harm.”

Suddenly, every aching nerve in his body steeled over.

“I’m never going to join you. Not the league, not Shigaraki, and certainly not you.”

“I want people to know that I’ll fight forever for that ending if I have to.”

He’d rather the world find him a lifeless corpse, than ever think he’d even once been a villain.

All For One was silent, his hand still out, before he slowly retracted it back.

“I understand this must be a lot to take in…” His voice was low, almost like he was trying not to spook a bird. “But… you have to understand that I already made the mistake of letting The Sandoman slip through my fingers once. It’s a miracle that I’ve found something like him again, 200 or so years later. It would be foolish of me to make that same mistake again.”

Midoriya was unprepared for the villain to reach for him again, this time with none of the theatrics as before, grasping his head tightly.

“L-Let go…!” Midoriya cried as he yanked violently in the hold, stirring up old injuries. The pain reminded him that All For One hadn’t killed him yet. “Stop!”

But the villain was eerily quiet, merely squeezing his skull tighter.

For the first time since he’d arrived, Midoriya screamed without restraint as he felt his body shift and move without his permission. His ribs pushed and pulled in his chest, the broken bones in his arm twitched and spasmed. His insides burned, muscle and flesh lighting ablaze as his heart thumped so fast he swore it was just going to pop. He knew he was crying, tears slipping past his shut eyes, but he convinced himself it was the sweat from his fever, cooking him from the inside out.

The pain slowly died down, until Midoriya couldn’t even be sure if he was still screaming, his senses overloaded to the point of emptiness. Everything felt blank, like he was coming back into focus, the world ringing around him like a bomb had just gone off. And as he slowly opened his eyes, convinced he was dead and it simply just hadn’t caught up to him yet, he realized the painful grip on his head was gone, nothing more than a limp rest now, All For One smiling before him.

All his pain was gone actually. His broken arm no longer stretched from the weight of his restraints. His tense skin no longer throbbed from the excessive blood pooling underneath. His lungs no longer caught on his misaligned ribs whenever he took a breath. His body no longer radiated the piping heat of his fever. Even the wound Shigaraki had given him yesterday was no longer there.

“Wha-” Midoriya shot his eyes open wide, frantically checking himself over to make sure he was all still here. He managed to catch a glimpse of the side that Shigaraki had brutalized and callously cauterised. There wasn’t even a scar.

“I decided to heal your injuries… as a sign of good faith.” All For One removed the hand that still rested on Midoriya’s head. “Of course, there were much… nicer ways for me to do it… Still, I’ll give you some time to think my offer over.”

All For One held up his hand and snapped.

“But… I’ll remind you: I’m currently giving you the choice of having autonomy.”

Suddenly, from the shadows behind All For One’s chair, something stepped out, something pale and sickly and familiarly inhuman.

“After all, I’ve met many interesting quirks throughout the decades, and I’ve gotten them all… one way or another.”

A Nomu crawled out from behind, summoned like a dog as it approached All For One and lifelessly placed its head on the armrest of the chair. 

All For One stroked its submissive head, fingers following the curves of its exposed brain.

“There were many poor souls who couldn’t bear the sudden burden of the quirks they were given. They became like mindless puppets, incapable of speaking or cognitive thought… just like the Nomu are.”

Midoriya began to shake.

All For One gave him one last smile. “You can take him back now, Kurogiri.”

Midoriya didn’t even see the other villain approach, locked petrified on the lifeless eyes of the Nomu before him as he and his chair slowly sunk down through another misty portal.

He found himself back in the bar room, as empty and silent as he’d left it. The chair had dropped the rest of the way to the floor after making its way mostly through the portal. Midoriya jolted at the impact, but the shock barely stayed in his system this time, no injuries for it to latch onto.

It took him a moment to realize that he was no longer in front of All For One. It took him an even longer moment to realize he was completely alone again, just as he’d woken up.

The tears slipped down his cheeks before he even realized his lips were quivering, and all Midoriya could do was droop his head and hope the shadows of his hair could hide the rest from the cameras inevitably watching him.

He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip to keep the whimpers in his throat, but that did nothing to stop the weakness from leaking from his eyes.

Dammit, dammit he needed to hold himself together…! He could outlast; if anyone could, it was him. Just until someone came. That was it; that was all he needed.

Someone.

“After all, I’ve met many interesting quirks throughout the decades, and I’ve gotten them all… one way or another.”

Anyone…

Gami stuck around Todoroki for the rest of last night. He knew he wasn't going to be able to find the conference room until the heroes had long left, and he had no idea how to get back to Aizawa and Yamada’s home on his own. So instead of leaving behind familiar faces yet again, he decided to stay with Todoroki for the time being.

He liked Todoroki. The boy was quiet, reserved, yet interconnected with his emotions. He felt deeply, for better and for worse. He was a lot like Midoriya, but he was not Midoriya. And Gami desperately wanted Midoriya back.

Still, he remained with Todoroki, because that was as close as he was going to get.

The boy had been allowed to return home last night, discharged early from the hospital for his minor injuries. That fact hadn’t kept him away, however, nor Gami by proxy.

The ghost followed silently as Todoroki returned back to the hospital for the second time today, though much later into the night. He and Bakugo had met up at the hospital once already earlier in the afternoon, after hearing that Yaoyorozu had woken up from unconsciousness. They’d tried to pay her a visit, but All Might and a few police detectives had gotten to her first. They didn’t walk away without hearing something interesting, however.

Gami had watched silently, as the rest of Midoriya’s class agreed over text chat to visit Yaoyorozu tonight, and Todoroki and Bakugo agreed together to come along, an unspoken thought between them.

They met in the lobby, long after the sun went down. Todoroki had gotten there on time, but Bakugo stood there waiting for him anyway.

Bakugo scoffed at him. “About time you got here.”

“Nice to see you too…” Todoroki didn’t stop, heading right for the elevator, Bakugo trailing just behind now. “You still good to-”

“Yeah, yeah, say it louder why don’t you…” Bakugo jammed the button to close the elevator doors. Once the elevator shut them in, he relaxed slightly. “Course I am.”

Todoroki hummed in agreement. Gami nodded alongside them.

The elevator slowly started climbing, nothing but the soft whirring of cables and pulleys filling the otherwise silent metal box.

“Did you…” Bakugo’s voice came out quiet; Todoroki was still getting used to it. “Did you watch the broadcast from U.A. earlier?”

The air around them got cold all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I did.” Todoroki replied just as faintly.

The metallic clanking of machinery filled the silence for a brief moment.

“Did you know…?” Bakugo whispered, staring out at the closed elevator doors. “Did Midoriya tell you about being placed with U.A.? That he wasn’t living with his mom anymore…?”

Todoroki opened his mouth, but the words got oddly stuck in his throat, his hands shuffling anxiously.

“I knew his mom… at least, I thought I knew his mom.” Bakugo muttered through tightly clenched teeth. “She was the kindest woman I’d ever met. I didn’t get it then; how anyone could possibly be so nice after going through so much shit. It pissed me off, so I stopped wanting to see her.”

Todoroki turned to face him. He could see clearly now just how badly his fists were shaking. “Bakug-”

“They’re saying so much shit about her now… and I don’t know if it was just me who missed it, or if everyone did.” He dug his nails into his palms, but the penance was laughable. “But my mom and I knew her; we only lived just a couple blocks down. How the hell did we not know…? How the hell could Inko do any of the things they’re saying she did…? How could she just leave him alone…?!”

Bakugo slammed a fist violently into the elevator wall. The entire contraption shook, stuttering its path up for a moment, before continuing as normal.

“I don’t know…” Todoroki answered quietly, words like puff of wind. “Everyone wants an explanation for things like that, because no one wants to believe that there wasn’t at least a reason. But… do we really need a reason? Is there any reason that could ever be enough to justify hurting the person you're supposed to love…?”

“Even though my mother was the one who gave me this scar, I only blame my scumbag of a father for pushing her to this.”

Todoroki tensed, wishing he could believe his own words.

“When Izuku comes back, there’s going to be a lot that overwhelms him. Let’s just make sure us and the rest of the class are still a safe place for him to come back to.”

Bakugo’s shoulders fell in dissatisfaction just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

They walked silently through the hospital halls, vacant by all but the night staff, until they approached a closed door. Todoroki gave it a gentle knock.

There was a moment before the door cracked open, Uraraka peeking out. “Oh, it’s just you guys. Come in…”

Gami trailed behind as they entered, peering around the room. All the other students, minus Jirou and Hagakure still, looked to be inside already. It felt similar to the day before, but instead of Shoji’s bed they were crowding around, it was Yaoyorozu’s. Shoji actually stood amongst the group around the foot of her bed, with some extra bandages, but no worse for wear. Most of the students seemed to have had their wrappings changed; Gami guessed most were still confined to the hospital for their injuries.

Yaoyorozu leaned up at the commotion. “Ah, Todoroki, Bakugo… it’s good to see you both alright.” She glanced around. “I think that makes practically everyone then…”

Todoroki hummed. “Glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“Not any worse, that’s for certain… though I wish I could’ve been of more help.”

Her guilt was thick like smog, heavy and sticky like they were wading through syrup.

Bakugo suddenly stepped forward, joining Todoroki by her bedside. Some of the other students jumped, expecting him to stay stuck against the wall like he had with Shoji last night. Even Yaoyorozu seemed surprised. But Todoroki stood unfazed.

“You can be.”

None of them had ever thought Bakugo could speak so softly.

“We heard you’d woken up earlier, so Todoroki and I were gonna come check on you, but All Might and the police beat us to the punch.” He took a breath. “We heard what you told them.”

Bakugo trailed off, allowing the class to recover from their momentary shock, subsequently turning to Yaoyorozu in confusion and intrigue.

The girl stuttered, but ultimately continued. “Well… yes, I did make a transceiver. Awase from Class 1-B helped stick it to the Nomu that attacked us. I made a device to receive the signal, and gave it to All Might and the police.”

Uraraka suddenly shot to the foot of Yaoyorozu’s bed, jostling the cot. “T-That’s great! That means they’ll find Midori soon…!”

But Yaoyorozu did not appear as ecstatic. “I wish I hadn’t been unconscious this whole time; I wish I could’ve given them the tracker sooner…”

Todoroki placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey… you’ve easily done more than any of us… but I understand how you feel. I can’t just sit here and wait for Izuku to come back.”

“You made a receiver for the heroes.” Bakugo jumped in. “Can you make another one for us…?”

Yaoyorozu didn’t even have the time to gasp, as Iida interrupted her shock with his own.

“What… what are you two saying…?”

Bakugo grit his teeth. “Look, I’m not gonna bother sugar-coating it: the league used me to get Midoriya, and if I had just put my anger aside for a moment… maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess. But Todoroki and I aren’t just gonna fucking sit around and sulk on what could’ve been. We fucked up, so we’re gonna get him back.”

“No.”

Iida’s voice came out stern and hostile. The students around him shuffled back. He moved from the opposite side of Yaoyorozu’s cot towards the other two. Todoroki moved to meet him halfway.

“Iida, I understand-”

“No, you don’t, or you wouldn’t be suggesting what I think you are.” Iida cut him off. “We ought to leave this to the pros. It’s not our place to interfere.”

“You don’t think I get that?” None of them had ever thought Todoroki could speak so sadly. “But I can’t, in good conscience, just wait for Izuku to be rescued. Not when it was me who missed the marble that caused the hostage situation to begin with.”

But the sorrow in his voice did not sway Iida, who stopped right up in Todoroki’s face. “Did you not learn your lesson from last time-”

“Are you saying that as long as it turns out alright, it’s okay to bend the rules?”

“Maybe I didn’t…!” Todoroki clutched at his chest, bunching his shirt in his fist. “But I know if it was any one of us out there alone right now, Izuku would be the first one to come for them. And I think you know that too, Iida…!”

“If Iida hadn’t done anything, then Native would’ve been killed! And if Izuku hadn’t come, then both of them would’ve died!”

Yaoyorozu shivered violently in her bed, rubbing her arms. When had the room gotten so cold?

She looked over to Todoroki, but there was no ice on him.

Uraraka tried to push herself between the two. “Todoroki, I-I know you’re upset-”

Asui tried to back her up. “Iida is right here…”

But Bakugo moved to back Todoroki up. “We know he’s right. But I’d rather do the wrong thing, than abandon Midoriya again. I’ve been doing that my whole fucking life; what the hell am I doing at this goddamn school if I do it again?”

Iida snapped to Bakugo next. “You fools-”

“Enough! All of you!”

The three silenced to see Yaoyorozu sitting up in her cot, huffing frustratedly amongst her place swaddled in blankets and bandages.

She looked at their class president. “You’re right, Iida…”

Then, she turned to Todoroki and Bakugo.

“What you two want to do is stupid, not to mention blurting it out in front of everyone, rather than trying to talk to me about it privately.” She sighed, long black hair falling in front of her eyes. “But I agree with you.”

Iida lurched forward in shock. “Yaoyorozu-”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bakugo so adamant about anything before, other than winning maybe… and I certainly haven’t seen him agree with anyone, much less Todoroki of all people.” Yaoyorozu glanced away, a somber shine in her far away gaze. “Midori is kind of the glue that holds our whole class together. I don’t think I can see Class 1-A without him alright; I don’t think any of us can…”

Everyone drifted into silence at that, including Iida.

“Every day, we have the chance to leave our truest mark upon the world!”

Yaoyorozu snapped back to Todoroki and Bakugo, pointing at them firmly.

“I’ll make you the receiver… on one condition: you don’t go anywhere until tomorrow. That’s when the hospital’s going to discharge me, and I’m coming with you.”

Todoroki breathed a sigh of relief. “Deal.”

Iida breathed a gasp of disbelief. “Are you kidding me?! Are the three of you serious?! Do none of you understand what you're admitting to right now-” 

Gami had really tried to stay silent. He’d been keeping to himself the whole time, floating off to the side as the children went back and forth between each other. He’d done it on purpose; he could feel himself getting worked up from the emotion in the room. He’d been holding himself, trying to keep his smoke contained as it leaked from his silhouette and spread across the floor. He knew he should’ve stepped out, but he didn’t want to risk losing Todoroki like he’d lost Aizawa. So he stayed as they bickered and argued until something in him finally snapped.

“Enough already…!”

The entire room jumped.

“What the hell was that?!” Kaminari yelped, spinning around wildly. “I-I could’ve sworn I heard-”

“G-Guys…” Kirishima pointed shakily, drawing the class’s focus. “T-That’s not just me seeing that shadow in the corner… right?”

And slowly, Gami watched as every child in the room turned to lock eyes with him.

“Oh… shit.”

The students closest to him scuttled back like mice, some gasping, some pointing, all at him.

“What the fuck is tha-”

Gami dragged his skeletal hands over his face. “Oh fuck, Izuku’s going to have my head for this…”

Kirishima’s mouth dropped open to scream, but Todoroki shoved his hand in front to muffle it. “Wait! Wait… y-you know Izuku…?”

Gami stayed silent for a moment, before letting out a heavy sigh of defeat. “I suppose it’s too late for me to pretend like I’m not here. Yes… yes I know Izuku, I’ve known him practically his whole life. I’m his friend; my name is Gami.”

“Gami is… a good friend. He’s always made me feel safe.”

Todoroki’s memory jolted, as he slowly lowered his hand from Kirishima’s face and stumbled forward. “There’s no way… you’re Gami? The friend Izuku’s told me about?”

Bakugo looked between Todoroki and the shadow in disbelief. “You fucking know this guy?!”

Gami held up his hands in surrender. “I-I imagine this is a lot to take in. I mean no harm. All I ask is that you all please refrain from sharing my existence with anyone else. I just hope Izuku’s not going to be too upset with me about revealing myself to you all like this.”

The scream Kirishima was building up before slowly fizzled out as he pressed both palms into his forehead. “I’m so confused; can somebody please explain what the hell is going on?!”

“I um… I guess you could say I’m a subsect of Izuku’s quirk. Much like your one classmate over there.” Gami pointed at Tokoyami, who took a step back in surprise. “Typically, only Izuku has ever been able to see and interact with me, but lately, I’ve been having some success speaking with other people. Of all the times to have a breakthrough…”

Uraraka suddenly stepped forward, tilting her head in curiosity. “You’re part of Midori’s quirk…? But I thought his quirk was decay and the scythe he uses sometimes?”

“It… it really is quite complicated.” Gami sighed. “It’d probably be easier if Izuku explained it… but he’s not here…”

The sad admission brought the class back into their previous state of mind.

Todoroki looked back up at the shadow in the corner, really studying it. It was less of a shadow, and more like a strange cloud of smoke, constantly undulating. It had some semblance of a human shape, and a pair of bony hands that seemed to pop in and out of the fog. It looked kind of like it was wearing a robe or a cloak, but no matter how hard Todoroki stared, he couldn’t find a face, just a deep black void.

“You don’t happen to know where he is, do you?” Todoroki asked with a sliver of quiet hope. “You… you were the one Izuku called out to right before-”

“GAMI!!”

But Gami shook his head regretfully. “I wish I did. I could not follow him through the portal, so instead I have been merely trailing you, actually.”

At that, Kaminari took a wide step away from Todoroki. When the other looked at him strangely in response, he shrugged. “Dude, Midori’s ghost friend quirk… thing just admitted to haunting you…”

“I apologize. I wasn’t trying to frighten anyone.” Gami drooped, wondering if he appeared as small as he felt. “I just don’t know what to do or how to help, but I cannot do nothing while I know he suffers.”

The class winced at his harsh choice of words.

“But, I have been listening to your conversation… you three-” he pointed, dragging his finger from Todoroki, to Bakugo, and finally to Yaoyorozu. “Do you three truly intend to try and find him?”

Todoroki glanced back at the other two, and they gave firm nods. “Yeah. Izuku would do the same for any one of us. We’re not just going to sit back until he gets rescued.”

“In that case, I would like to offer my assistance. I want nothing more than him home safe… and I think he’d be quite upset to find out that you all could’ve been in danger and I did not help.”

“Well, that settles it then.” Yaoyorozu finally got her words together. “The four of us will follow the signal tomorrow evening. If anyone else feels just as strongly about this, you’re welcome to join. Otherwise, I ask that this conversation doesn’t leave this room, especially any talk about Gami-san. We own Midori that much privacy at least.”

“There really isn’t any need for formalities-”

“Well, goodnight then.” Asui stated bluntly, walking towards the door. “I’m glad you’re awake and doing alright, Yaomomo.”

Her disappointment was evident as she left. The rest of the class shuffled awkwardly.

“I’ll be going too…” Uraraka spoke up next, surprisingly, giving the specter one last glance. “It was nice to meet you, Gami…!”

“Oh, um likewise…!” He waved at her. “Goodnight, Uraraka.”

In the same fashion, the rest of the class slowly started to trickle out of Yaoyorozu’s room. Some of them followed Uraraka’s footsteps and gave their farewells to Gami, but all of them left with the silent statement that while they did want Midoriya home safe, they refused to get involved as dangerously as the four of them planned to.

Eventually, it was only Todoroki, Bakugo, and Gami standing around Yaoyorozu in her cot, with Kirishima and Iida off to the side.

Kirishima hesitated, glancing uncertainly between the door and the group by the bed. He could feel Iida’s eyes burning into him from behind. But he fought the wince, and took a strong step forward instead.

Bakugo turned in surprise along with everyone else, as Kirishima joined them by Yaoyorozu’s side. “You-”

“I felt so useless sitting in the lodge that night…” Kirishima bowed his head in shame, eyes pressed shut. “Knowing everyone was in danger and I couldn’t do anything…! I didn’t do anything…”

He balled his fists at his sides, but his hands still trembled, forcing himself to confront the scared child he was two nights ago.

“But Midori did; he did what I wanted to do. He risked everything to make sure everyone else got out okay.” Kirishima’s eyes popped back open, a firm look of determination etched into the wrinkles on his face. “So I owe it to him to try and help get him back, cause he’s the kind of guy who would try for anyone else.”

Todoroki was the first of them to smile in place of surprise. “Thank you, Kirishima. We’re glad to have your support-”

“You…”

The pleasant mood was short-lived, as the four children, plus one ghost, turned to see the last one still left in the room.

Iida stepped away from the side, a dark look washed over his face, with a sheen like the film of soap on the surface of still water.

“You all have to be joking.”

Time slowed to a standstill as Iida approached their gathering around Yaoyorozu’s bed, his attention unfocused until his eyes finally landed on Todoroki.

“You of all people should know better…!” Every bone in Iida’s body shook, like a trapped animal desperately fighting the bars of its cage. “Why are you about to commit the same blunder I did?! You know this is foolish!”

“Are you saying that as long as it turns out alright, it’s okay to bend the rules?”

Todoroki couldn’t be angry at him, not when he could see past the yelling to his scared friend underneath. “Iida, please-”

“We are still under protection; the League of Villains could be considering attacking us once again while we’re all confined and weakened.” Iida bowed his head, taking in a few fruitlessly shallow breaths. “And U.A. is facing enough backlash as is. Who do you think is going to have to take responsibility for your actions if you do this?!”

“You don’t think I’ve been considering all that already?” Todoroki looked up at him with soft sorrow. “What if this is my conclusion anyway? What if we all think the ends justify the means-”

Iida raised a fist before he could even think, clocked right at Todoroki’s face.

Todoroki didn’t even realize Iida was about to punch him, until another hand shot out in front of him and caught him.

“Enough…” Gami seethed through his teeth as his body wavered against the force of the blow, his skeletal fingers wrapped around Iida’s fist and holding it in place. He held it firmly, unsure if the child would keep going if he were to let him go. “Izuku… would not want you to save him if someone had to get hurt to do so.”

The students could only watch as Iida’s hand was slowly lowered by a skeletal grasp, dark fog ebbing in the space around them, the ghostly figure seemingly shaky, but stable.

Todoroki slowly recovered as the atmosphere began to die down, still stuck staring helplessly at Iida as the other looked down at his feet.

“Do you not think I too have regrets…?” Iida whispered, eyes locked on the hand that had nearly struck his friend. “Of course I’m worried; of course I worry about Midori. But I have to worry about everyone; that’s the job of a class president.”

He opened the fist that had nearly struck his friend, and placed that palm over his eyes, pushing his glasses off his face.

“Seeing everyone hurt, lying helplessly in hospital beds… it reminded me of my injured brother… of Tensei. And while I can never be more grateful for the fact that he survived, he will never walk again.” Even with the hand pressed tightly to his face, tears still seeped through the cracks in his fingers. “What happens when your conclusions take you somewhere there’s no coming back from? Are you saying you don’t give a damn…!”

“I can’t… he… he hurt my brother! He can’t- he’ll never be a hero again!”

“Are you saying… you don’t care about how I feel here…?!”

“Tensei… I love him so much. I just… I just want him to be ok.”

“Iida…” Yaoyorozu spoke softly from the edge of her cot. “You don’t seriously think I'd let them go if their plan was to go in guns blazing, do you?”

Iida snapped up to her, face splotchy and red, quickly shoving his glasses over his eyes to hide it.

“I have a plan that doesn’t involve fighting: a covert mission where we give Midori an opportunity to escape without anyone engaging.”

Todoroki nodded firmly. He wasn’t surprised Yaoyorozu had managed to cook up something already, despite just now being informed of his and Bakugo’s plan to rescue Midoriya. And despite knowing none of what it entailed, he trusted her wholeheartedly. “None of us want to break the law, especially after what happened with the Hero Killer. I know we got lucky then, so that’s why we’re doing things different this time.”

Suddenly, Bakugo stepped forward, placing himself just between Iida and Todoroki. He turned to the class president with a pensive look, far from the angry scowls his face was so used to making. “I refuse to sit around and just wait for a miracle, to just hope Midoriya gets rescued by the heroes soon. He shouldn’t even be out there; it should’ve been me they took… or killed.”

Bakugo pressed his fingernails into his palms, trying desperately to keep out the anger that threatened to invade him, even if it was directed at himself.

“I saw how he looked just before they took him. I saw the fear… the desperation in his eyes, and I hate that I was too fucking frozen to do anything…!”

“He can’t-”

He’d been the closest to Midoriya that night, and yet, he couldn’t will his body to do anything but stare as Midoriya begged so desperately to be saved.

“GAMI!!”

He breathed out his anger, even as his mind screamed that he deserved it, refusing to let himself be that person again.

“I know my relationship with Midoriya is all sorts of fucked up…” Bakugo looked around at everyone in the room, including the wispy shadow still visible near Todoroki. “But that didn’t stop him from sacrificing himself for me. Looking back on everything… I don’t know if I can call myself a hero, but I’m gonna start now by doing what’s right.”

Iida glanced around the room. At Kirishima, firm in his resolve to his morals. At Yaoyorozu, stern and commanding even wrapped in bandages. At Todoroki, battling his guilt with the desperate desire to reconcile with his mistakes. At Bakugo, calm yet focused, composed unrecognizably, like a different person completely. Even at the shadow —at Gami— who seemed to leak an endless sorrow at his helplessness.

He saw them all. And he saw that they would not change.

Iida closed his eyes in defeat. 

“There’s no swaying you all…” 

Then, he opened them in recognition.

“In that case… take me with you.”