Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Swan Song

Izuku Midoriya felt completely and utterly encased in darkness.

He shouldn’t have been so surprised. He expected this, didn't he? He knew that things would end up like this one way or another. There was no hope for him -not an inkling of chance- that he would’ve ever gotten that happy ending he’d always wanted. He was quirkless, for goodness sakes; quite literally powerless. This ‘hero dream’ had long changed from an actual desire to help others, to a desperate attempt to reassure himself of his own self worth.

To make things worse, he had troubled his own mother over this. She watched helplessly as he faded away, falling into his own pit of despair. The longer he allowed himself to suffer his delusions, the more he denied her of any and every attempt to help. He thought about the constant arguments that had started over his neglect of his mental and emotional wellbeing. It sent shivers down his spine just thinking about the nights she stayed up crying over him. He would disregard her at every turn, refusing to see a therapist or get any sort of medical aid.

If he had accepted either of them, it would be him ultimately admitting that there was something wrong. He didn’t want to believe that. He wanted to continue to be clouded by his own desires and delusions. He wanted to stay in his own fairytale world where anything was possible if you just stayed determined. He didn’t want to see the cracks in the walls. He didn’t want to believe that anything could have possibly been wrong. But there was, and he knew it. He was all sorts of messed up in the head, so why didn’t he just take her hand?

It was too late now. The only hand he could see in this moment was the hand of the grim reaper himself. His cold and eerie embrace awaiting Izuku just over forty feet away from him- downwards. It would only take a split moment. The worst part would be the fall. Just a few seconds of fear and weightlessness; then it would all be over. There wouldn’t be any pain. Izuku made sure to choose the highest point of the Aldera middle school building. It stood right over the roundabout drive through, so there was no chance of cushion.

He swallowed, slipping off his red sneakers and placing a small folded piece of paper inside of it. His mother was sure to get the note once the police discovered his shoes. Hopefully, he didn’t miss any important things to be said, considering it would be the last thing he’d ever relay to his mother. Of course, that didn’t have to be the case. This didn’t have to be the case. Yet, he refused to step down from the edge of his school roof. With the way things are now, he couldn’t bring himself to leave that spot.

Everything in the past that led up to this moment held a grip on him so tight, it was like there was a noose tied around his neck, and it was choking him relentlessly.

Years ago, when Izuku found out he was quirkless, it not only shot a missile size hole through his dreams, but it also shattered one of his most significant relationships. He had been best friends with a boy whose family knew his own. Bakugo Katsuki. Izuku called him ‘Kacchan’, because that is just how much he cared for the boy.

They were inseparable. Whenever one of them were in trouble, the other would not be far from them. They’d do anything and everything together, and they had even worshiped the same hero: All Might. Kacchan worshiped All Might’s strength and undisputed win streak. Izuku worshiped All Might's valor and joyous light, a light no other hero could fathom competing with.

They would fawn and swoon over the symbol of peace, playing games that honored his name and taking turns to imitate him.

They would back each other up in every moment of conflict. Typically it was Kacchan protecting Izuku. The freckled boy wasn’t much of a fighter when he was young, and was pretty prone to being bested in each and every battle. Kacchan, however, stood tall and secure. Even when it was clear he wouldn’t win, he’d stand and fight until his opponents grew tired and left. Then he’d turn around with the brightest smile -stained red from his bloodied nose- and he’d flex his little arms as if he had been winning the entire time.

Goodness, how Izuku admired him. The young boy would constantly fantasize about the type of hero duo they’d be when they grew up. They’d fight together, and that time Izuku could protect Kacchan, and give the same bloody smile.

But that would never come to happen. Eventually, they had gotten to an age where their quirks began to manifest. Kacchan’s quirk had been publicized at school almost immediately. He was a pretty popular kid; known for his bravery and infectious confidence. Everyone watched in awe as small flutters and flickers of light went off in his small hands. They were explosions, small but brilliant. The class praised him, and teachers encouraged him. They had already deemed him the best.

Then it was Izuku’s turn.

And again the next day.

And again the next day.

In the end, the teachers settled for him doing a show and tell when he knew it arrived.

He never did the show and tell.

He never got his quirk.

Izuku became the laughing stock of the century. Everyone viewed him as pathetic. When it came time for gym class, he was left out of every team. ‘He doesn’t have a quirk’ they would say, ‘How can he help us win?’

When it came time for lunch, no one would open their tables to him. ‘He doesn’t have a quirk,’ they would laugh, ‘no way can he sit with us.’

When it came time to group work, no one would claim him. ‘He doesn’t have a quirk,’ they would whine, ‘I don’t wanna be stuck with him.’

It hurt, but he thought he could shrug it off and lean on those who he called friends. He thought he could lean on Kacchan; and take comfort in the older boy's normally warm shoulder. Kacchan always let him lean on his shoulder; but not this time. This time it turned cold. Nothing hurt more than that day.

“You’re quirkless, Deku.” Kacchan chided, “I’m supposed to be the greatest, so why would I be friends with someone so pathetic?”

Izuku winced, looking up at the boy with a bowed head. “T-that’s not nice, Kacchan! I can still be strong, with or without a quirk.”

With a chuff, the older boy turned his back to his friend. “You’re mental if you think that.”

Izuku had tried to maintain their relationship then, following the blond around and trailing behind his new friend group. Each time they’d make fun of him, and beat him up if he ever got in the way of their fun. They’d abandon him if the opportunity arose, and he’d be left in his tears, wishing they’d come back and tell him it was only a joke. A cruel, and unfunny joke.

As they got older, Izuku stopped trying. He’d actually end up avoiding Kacchan, trying to stay completely out of his way in hopes of getting home without burns and bruises. It normally worked. He’d keep his head low wherever he walked, and wouldn’t utter a peep. Even his classmates would walk right past him without a remark. He had learned how to become invisible.

But similarly, around this time, the loneliness began to set in. He would find himself holding back tears as he watched others converse, socialize, and unite. All the while he’d sit in the corner of the lunchroom, class, or wherever he was; unwanted and worthless to everyone.

He would say to himself ‘at least I have family’ to remind himself that he was never truly isolated; but even that wasn’t true. His mother, Midoriya Inko, was his only provider. His father had left them when he was young. Inko would often tell Izuku that he was just in another country, America to be precise, working away with his business to make money for them. But as Izuku grew, he began to ask questions. Why hadn’t the man ever come back? Why has he not called to speak to Izuku? Where is all this ‘money’ they were supposed to have?

By and by, Inko stopped lying and Izuku learned the truth. His father did go to America on a business trip, but he never planned on coming back. Neither of them knew why. All they knew is that Inko got a call in the dead of night that broke the news. So she worked long hours, slaving so that Izuku could have a good school, good home, and a good life. The irony of it all. Izuku rarely got to see his mother, and often had to make his own breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He’d leave dinners out for her when she got home, and she would eat them and apologize in the morning. He’d always forgive her.

But sometimes he wished she’d just take a day- just one- to stay with him. To be his mother, and to show him the love he’d seen all the other kids get from their parents. The closest he’d ever gotten was when he’d cried about not having a quirk, and she held him tightly as she accompanied him in his tears. Unfortunately, that was not the time in which he wanted a hug and affection. That day, he had wanted encouragement and support.

Izuku would soon find himself exceptionally depressed. His social life was nonexistent, and his self confidence was so low he’d often trip on it. He felt unwanted, severely unloved, and extremely unhappy. He would have been better off sitting in his room and never leaving. Its not like people would have noticed his absence anyway. He could feel himself slowly floating away, detaching from reality with every god-forsaken day.

Thankfully, there was one thing that did keep him grounded. One individual thing that made every morning breath worth it.

Yuuei, the number one hero school in all of japan.

Ten months ago, he had found out that they were allowing applications from youth without quirks. He was a youth without a quirk. He had a chance. So he filled out the application and took the written exam. He passed -not with flying colors, but he passed. He turned in his application to his teacher the next day of school and sat at his signature ‘back of the class’ desk. Everything felt hopeful.

Their teacher had ignored the class activities for the day, knowing that the students just wanted to get involved in the hero festivities. Everyone had applied to their schools and were awaiting the results. Kacchan had applied to Yuuei, of course. He bragged to the students about it, calling them ‘extras’ and telling them they were nowhere near his level.

Things could have just ended there, and the day could have gone on as normal. But for some reason, their teacher desired to see Izuku suffer more than he already did. He outed the freckled boy, announcing how he also applied to the most prestigious school in the nation. Kacchan’s face had never been more red.

Izuku had lost his invisibility cloak, and he was once again the bag for punches. Everyone laughed, mocked, and shamed him for even going through with such a deranged attempt. Kacchan silenced them all, slamming his fist down onto Izuku’s desk, igniting a small explosion hot enough to make Izuku wince.

“Listen here you damn nerd,” He growled. “You’re worse than these rejects. You’re quirkless. They’d never accept somebody like you.”

Izuku struggled to sit himself up after falling onto the floor. “T-that’s not entirely true! They got rid of that rule. I can-”

Another explosion silenced him. “I think you’re missing the picture, Deku. You wouldn’t even pass the physical exam! You’re just wasting everyone’s time!”

The berating went on for a while longer. Only when the bell rang did it stop. The teacher had done nothing about it -as always- so Izuku was quite literally saved by the bell. He didn’t know how much longer he could take the harassment. It was like a thousand negative voices were in his head, beating him down internally. It was as if he were surrounded by demons and devils, pulling at him with the desire to drag him into the depths of hell. It was working. Every moment felt like he was sinking deeper and deeper into the flames. Every class, every insult, and every lonely night made him feel like he was drowning in the fires of hades.

He sloppily stood from his seat, carelessly dragging his items off of his desk and into his bag. All he wanted in that moment was to go home and wallow in the darkness of his room. He’d thought to text his mother that she’d need to pick something up for dinner. He didn’t feel like eating, let alone cooking. So he pulled out his phone, only to have it snatched away by two familiar sweaty hands.

“We ain’t done here, Deku.” Kacchan looked even more vexed than he did earlier. “I plan on being the only student to graduate from this crappy nothing school, and you’re not gonna ruin that.”

“Not that he can, anyway.” One of his lackeys snickers from behind him.

“W-we don’t know what the practical exam is y-yet.” Izuku pushed himself up against the wall behind him. He wanted out of this entire situation. “I-I could p-pass.”

Kacchan shook his head, dropping Izuku’s phone negligently to the floor. “You’re not even going to get in. Even IF they accept you -which they wont- you’re going to do right by everyone and stay far away from Yuuei. I’m not asking.”

“W-why? T-that doesn’t even make sense! It’s not going to bother you-”

“Knowing a worthless weakling like you was given a pitiful opportunity to join the country’s highest hero academy is going to bother the HELL outta me.” Kacchan looked over to Izuku’s desk. Izuku’s breath caught in his throat as he realized he had left his hero notes on it. It was now in Kacchan’s clutches.

The blond twirled it around in his hands, eyes glued to Izuku’s face. “They’d be wasting precious time and energy on you, trying to figure out ways for the quirkless student to keep up. It’ll take away from the rest of us. But you’re too damn selfish to realize that. Some hero…”

Then there was a blast, and Izuku’s book fluttered feebly out of the window. His heart sank into his stomach. Before he knew it, he was up on his feet and rushing over to the opening. There was absolutely no chance he could grab it; it was already far beneath him by now. But it certainly put more distance between him and his oppressor, and that was something he could be thankful for.

“Now do yourself a favor, Deku.” Kacchan continued. He opened the classroom door, stopping just at the threshold. “If you want to be a hero so badly, take a swan dive off the top of the building and pray you get a quirk in the next life.”

He had left Izuku in that room feeling more forlorn than he had ever felt before. Izuku didn’t think that was possible. If only for a second, he did wish he could be like his journal and fall forsakenly to the ground below.

On the way home, it was like his thoughts of death had come to punish him. A man made of slime had attacked him as he strolled through a tunnel under a bridge, and for a second, Izuku really thought he would die. It wasn’t until he found himself waking up just outside the underpass that he realized he was alive, and not alone. Before him stood a man he’d believed he’d only meet in his dreams. All Might.

He smiled a genuine smile for the first time in a long time. They had only talked for a short while before All Might tried to leave, but Izuku was not yet ready for their moment to end. He had grabbed onto the hero as he took off, and All Might had to land them on some building to get him off. Izuku did not regret his actions.

On that rooftop, he told All Might everything; from his quirklessness, to his bullies, and his desire to be a hero. He hadn’t spilled his heart out like this in forever. He hadn’t told anyone about how he felt, or what he was going through. He didn’t even really want to tell All Might. But he was so desperate for a change. He wanted so badly to have hope again; to have happiness again. He didn’t want to wake up every morning in fear of failure. He didn’t want to have to convince himself that he had a chance, or to stare in the mirror and tell himself he had value.

Izuku didn’t want to suffer anymore.

So he outed himself to his idol. Now, first he had to get past an insane discovery of All Might’s terrifyingly scrawny and sickly form -he would take the hero’s secret to the grave. Only after that promise did the man stand to address his question.

And the answer broke him to pieces.

He didn’t know why he expected anything different. It’s his own fault for holding onto the delusion when he KNEW the outcome was going to be failure. Everyone had told him so, it wasn’t like the option was still up in the air. His own mother had never even told him there was still a chance, and she avoided the topic entirely. Now the symbol of peace, his Idol and love, was telling him he could not be a hero. Not without a quirk.

All Might had left him there on the top of that building. He said something while walking away, but Izuku didn’t hear it. He was too stuck in his own head. ‘We told you so.’ That’s what they’d all say. They’d laugh at him, and make a joke of his traumatic realization; if it was even really a realization.

What was he to do now? Move on? Simply pretend as if he didn’t ineptly put everything he had on this unlikely future of heroism? He needed it. He needed it to feel worth something. Where could he go that wouldn’t expect some level of quirk use? There would be no place where he wouldn’t be seen as a quirkless Deku. He couldn’t do anything else. He couldn’t be anything else.

He had failed and he was nothing. Everyone would move on in life and forget about him completely. He would live and die alone, invisible and forgettable.

It took him forever to get off of that roof -the right way, that is. When he got home, his mother had been sitting on the couch in their small living room. She looked stressed. She met him at the door and began rambling on about how he had worried her with how late he had gotten home. She had gotten off work early and wanted to surprise him with dinner, but he took forever. It was 9:15. He had been on that roof since around 5:00.

He coerced himself to eat dinner and went to sleep almost immediately that night. The one time his mother was home to greet him, and he couldn’t even summon enough of himself to talk to her.

He spent the weekend moping about, unwilling to leave his room. He utilized his time trying to decide whether or not he’d ask to be placed in the support course, or maybe general ed course at Yuuei. It would be the wiser decision, yes. But… What if he could use support items to make up for the quirk he lacked?

One would think he’d give up and accept the reality of his situation, especially after a pro themself told him he’d basically fail as a hero. Yet, Izuku was never told that support items would make no difference. He’d spoken about quirklessness as if his body and mind itself would suffice. Could it hurt trying another route?

He…

Who was he kidding?

He was far gone. He was so broken that he was holding hope only out of habit of doing so. He was a broken record, repeating things and praying that the power of words would take control and put him where we desired to be most. There were tears streaming softly down his face while he drew out forms of gear and weapons he could use to his advantage. He could still be a hero.

He could still be a hero.

When Monday came around, Izuku had to fight to get himself out of bed and to school. He had entered the class in a zombie-like state. There was chatter about a monster attack that had happened a few days before, and for a second Izuku thought it was about him; but evidently it was about Kacchan, who had been abused by the exact same slime monster. Supposedly, the infamous Present Mic had arrived to save the day. He was a good choice. Strong sonic waves like his were sure to make the slime man unstable and unable to maintain any form.

Izuku scanned the room for his old friend; but Kacchan wasn’t at school that day.

Ten months later. This month, last week. The practical exams. Izuku had gone, regardless of his mother’s pleading. He didn’t allow himself to stand out. In lieu, he tried his hardest to blend in, to be invisible. Kacchan had seen him and scowled at him, but he didn’t make a scene. Makes sense, considering they were in a very important place. One wrong move and the blond would find himself looking for another school.

When they got into the auditorium, they went over the rules of the test. Izuku should’ve walked out then. He should have just gotten up and went home. There was no way he would be able to get even one point in a task like this. How would he take on any of these things? Had he known beforehand that this would be the case, he would have at least tried to make a plan. Support items were allowed for those without quirks, or strong abilities at all.

Kacchan scoffed beside him, “Don’t get cold feet now, nerd. This is what you wanted.”

When the exam started, Izuku couldn’t stop himself from crying. He was running around like a headless chicken, pathetic and powerless. He could do nothing. He was barely dodging enemy attacks, let alone responding to them. He was embarrassing himself. The boy felt -and definitely looked- insane every time he attempted to fight a bot, only to end up running and screaming.

Then the zero pointer came out, and everyone began to rush in the opposite direction. One girl got stuck under a stone and Izuku was foolish enough to try to save her, as if he wouldn’t die himself. He ran over to her and grabbed her arm, pulling miserably to get her out from under there. He managed it, but just barely. The bot’s foot came crashing down just as he got her from her binds, and they ran as fast as they possibly could to get away from it.

The running felt like an eternity; and when the buzzer went off and the exam was announced to have ended, Izuku remembered that he had gotten not a single point.

Today was the day he had received the news from the school. He wanted to be alone, so he went to the Aldera Middle School building and climbed to the roof. The sun was setting when he arrived. No one would possibly find him there.

He sat down on a vent box, internally preparing for the results. He had to fight through a stomach of butterflies and bile before he could play the report system.

“Hello examinee Midoriya Izuku” It was All Might. He was a teacher this year? “I remember you, and I must say I was shocked to see you in the exam this year. You are a stubborn boy for sure, and I do admit that your determination is to be admired, but…”

He trailed off, looking for the right words to say. “I told you before, young man, that being a quirkless hero would not be easy. Those bots are nowhere near as dangerous as a real villain with tactics and intent. You barely survived out there, Midoriya. You can see for yourself now that being quirkless in the hero world is the equivalent to being a liability. Now I must say, you certainly left an impression on someone. A young girl came to speak on your behalf-” A video played of the girl from the exam. She was asking that some of her points be given to Izuku.

“You weren’t without points, so it wasn’t necessary. Saving someone is what heroics is all about. Therefore, you gained 60 points for your valiant act, young man.”

Izuku felt his heart jump. He had 60 points. That was above the amount necessary to get into the school. Did he…

Did he just make it in?

Him, a quirkless nobody, made it into Japan’s number one hero school. He wanted to scream, to faint, to cry, everything. He could feel his body starting to shake with shock, and his eyes growing hot with tears. No one believed in him. HE didn’t even believe in him. Yet, he gained 60 points and passed an exam that he should’ve failed without any power. He would be the first quirkless hero.

“-But… saving a life can be done in many ways.”

Izuku wavered.

“You don’t need to be a certified hero to pull someone from rubble. You don’t need to be a certified hero to pull someone from a burning house, or stop them from being assaulted. I told you before, police work also allows for you to be helpful and more importantly to be safer. Heroes are expected to take on missions that no one else can take, and risk our lives above all else. Son, we just cannot allow you to enter the hero course.”

Izuku didn’t breathe. He didn’t blink. He even stopped hearing. He felt cold.

“If you had applied for the support role, or even the general education course alongside the heroics course by the due date, we could’ve gotten you into one of those. But you got tunnel vision, and your eye was on the impossible. We truly thank you for coming here Izuku, but unfortunately, we do not think you should attend our school this year. If you desire to apply again next year, we would love to have you.”

It cut off then, and Izuku sat there, frozen.

Heh, so he didn’t make it in after all.

Of course he didn’t.

Izuku would never be a hero…

So there he stands, at the edge of that roof, looking down into the lot.

‘Take a swan dive off the top of the building and pray you get a quirk in your next life.’

Kacchan is probably laughing at him right now, wherever he is. He likely already knows that Izuku didn’t get in. Hell, everyone knows. How can a quirkless nobody like him get into a hero academy, let alone Yuuei. What can he do for anyone?

Izuku feels a familiar warm tear streak down his cheek. He smiles lightly. He really is insane. Truly delusional, useless, and insane. Did he really waste a portion of his life trying to succeed in a fairytale?

He inches closer to the edge of the roof.

He’s already wasted fifteen years of his life hoping for something that would never have come. He didn’t prepare a back up plan, nor did he believe he’d succeed in anything else. Even if he managed to get into another career choice, how would he have felt for the remainder of his life? Izuku can only imagine the many mornings he will wake up wishing things had been different. He doesn’t want to live his life with regrets. He doesn’t want to feel this way for the rest of his life.

He stands on nothing but his heels now.

There is nothing he could do. He has no quirk, no strength, no friends, no pride, and now he has no school to attend. He should have just applied to general studies or support like he had thought. It would have been better to be a student outside of what he wanted than to not be a student at all. But it’s too late now. Too late for another application, too late for a change of mind-

And too late to leave the roof.

Izuku looks down at the rounded lot once more.

At least there’s something he can’t fail.

When he jumps, it becomes the first time in a long time that his mind is empty and fretless. Something about rushing winds and weightlessness just strips your head of any and every thought; maybe it’s shock, maybe it’s adrenaline, or maybe it’s just cold fear. Whatever it is, he’s thankful for it. That ten to twenty seconds of tranquility and emptiness were the best seconds he has had in a long time.

Above him, the stars begin to take shape. It’s an attractive sight; the sky, that is. He smiles gently at the image of little lights sprinkled messily across the dark earthly ceiling like a black table cloth sprinkled over with sea salt. It’s peaceful, and it’s heartwarming. It’s just the thing he needs to see before the rest of the world goes black.

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“Well, things certainly worked out for us, didn’t it.”

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“Wake up, boy. I don’t have all day.”

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“We’ve only just met, and you’re already beginning to annoy me.”

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… Fogs of dark silver clouds Izuku’s vision as he lies baffled on the ground. Starry skies and windy breezes give way to complete, utter darkness and dense air. This space is full of contradictory energy; He feels cold, and yet so hot. Everything feels heavy, yet so light. He feels so at peace, and yet terrified. Where is he? Didn’t he die? Is this the afterlife; a black void full of stone cold nothingness?

“Quite dreadful, isn’t it? Or should I say, aren’t you?” at the sound of the deep and gruff voice, Izuku’s head rises from the ground to peer behind himself. The speed of the movement immediately throws him off balance. The gravity of this place is unstable; it feels as if he’s bouncing back between lightspeed and sluggish delay.

He finally manages to get to one knee, facing the direction of where the voice came. It’s hard to see in this void, and he can just barely make out a silhouette within the darkness. He blinks the fog away from his eyes in an effort to see the person better. As if the individual can sense his struggle, they take a few steps forward, and their being becomes almost as clear as day- or night.

A large man, definitely just below the seven-foot range, stands dominantly over Izuku’s kneeling frame. His eyes are a striking golden color with thick arrow-like eyebrows. There is a noticeable scar that runs through his left brow and eye, ending just at his cheekbone. His undercut hair is short and curly at the top, brightening from a dark brown at the roots to a golden blond towards the ends. He is admirably muscular and lean. He has a stubble, Klingon beard that is as dark as his roots.

Izuku can’t help but to eye a strange collection of symbols that is tattooed on his right pectoral and trailing down his arm. Izuku notices among the symbols a more familiar one in the center of his pec; the kanji symbol for “death.”

Is he currently kneeling before the grim reaper?

“No, you are not.”

With a choking start, the freckled boy’s eyes meet the mysterious man’s. “How did you do that?”

The man is stoic, glaring down at him as if every second is an exhausting waste of time. Time that Izuku isn’t even sure exists in this place. “Do what.”

“Read my mind.”

“I didn’t read your mind, boy.”

“Bull. Just then I thought something and you responded to it.” Izuku gets to his feet, stumbling against the abnormal gravity around him as he did.

“Yes, but I didn’t read your mind. I don’t need to. I’m a part of you. What you think, I know.”

“What I think, you know?” He repeats. “Okay, what- wait- just- who are you? Where am I? I’m supposed to be dead-”

“You ARE dead. For now.” The man cuts him off with a wave of his hand, “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be talking to me right now.”

“For- for now? Wait-” Izuku backtracks, “Okay, again. Who are you? And what do you mean, for now?”

“I am your quirk. Shinō.” The man answers with a withering look. “And I mean what I said. ‘For now’. I’m sending you back into your world once you are done here.”

Izuku blinks, his mouth twitching in search of a response to give. He doesn’t have a quirk. That was, quite literally, the reason he jumped from the school -among other things, of course. So how is it that in death, he was being told otherwise?

“I’m sorry, you’re mistaken. I don’t have a quirk, and I certainly don’t want to go back.”

The man, Shinō, clenches his jaw in visible agitation. Someone has anger issues. “You have no authority here yet, so I will do as I desire; and I desire to send you back.”

“Yet? What are you talking about!” Izuku huffs, “Also, It’s MY life that I wanted to end, what right do you have to counteract that!?”

“The right of being your quirk.”

“I don’t have a damn quirk!”

“Do explain then how you are standing here, boy.”

“Because I’m dead and in limbo!?” It’s a reasonable guess. “Or maybe I’m not dead at all yet, and this is some stupid pre-death hallucination!”

“This is not limbo, and you are certainly deceased. This is you. We are standing within a space known as your ‘Kosei Shin’. Anata no Kosei no shin, the core of your quirk. Every person has a space like this, where quirks manifest and grow. It typically resembles their abilities.” -He gestures to the space around them. “Someone who’s quirk is poisonous, for example, would find this place to be dead, toxic, and the intensity of it all would depend on them entirely. Should he be an angry and vengeful fellow, that place would be unbearable. Granted, few men will ever lay eyes on a place like this. You’re a rare case. Your quirk requires you to come here for it to even activate.”

Izuku looks at the man with an expression fit for a braindead fool. “Wait, hold on. None of this is making sense. You’re telling me that I’m currently dead and standing in my- a place where my quirk should have formed inside of me?”

“That is exactly what I’m telling you.”

“So what, I just have some invisible quirk that hasn’t shown itself yet?” This had to be a hallucination.

Shinō bares his teeth. “Listen to what I’ve been saying boy, it HAS shown itself to you. I am your quirk.”

“I’ve never heard of a personified quirk. I mean, there are quirks that spawn individuals or animals to respond to the quirk bearer, but for the quirk itself to be another being-”

“That’s because this quirk is so rare that humanity has yet to recognize its existence. It’s a ‘Spirit Type Quirk’. Most, if not all spirit types, appear later into the quirk bearer’s life, if they even appear at all.”

“Until it appears, huh? So I’m guessing there’s some sort of trigger involved in this?” Izuku looks down at his hand. The man had mentioned earlier that Izuku’s death was necessary for his quirk to activate. Was his suicide the trigger for this ‘quirk’ he has?

“You’re quick, for an idiot.” -Izuku shoots the man a glare- “Yes, spirit types must go through a sort of experience, state, or circumstance that resonates with their spirit. A spirit of love must be triggered through love. A spirit of life must be triggered through life…” He trails off, offering Izuku the opportunity to interject.

“A spirit of death must be activated through death…?”

“Your suicide awakened me, your spirit. I am Shinō: King of Death.”

It’s silent for a moment. Izuku needs time to process, and Shinō is kind enough to give it to him. Izuku’s eyes sort through the darkness, taking in this place that was supposedly his. “So I hold a spirit of death. No wonder everything is so dark. But why is it so- uh…”

Shinō steps beside him, copying his actions and scanning the area. “Clashing? Both hot and cold, heavy and light, calm and panicked? Because you haven’t yet decided the type of vessel you want to be.”

Izuku looks off into the voided distance. “The vessel I want to be?”

“You and I are the same, yet we are also different. How you use me and occupy my power will determine what this space will look like.”

“Your power…” Izuku breathes, “I- so I’m not just a body for a body? I’ll have actual abilities that come with this?”

Shinō raises a brow in his direction, probing into the boy's question.. Izuku continues, “I- uh- I just thought that with all the things I’ve been through, It would’ve been devastating to find out I had a quirk that was so- well, pointless. No offense. It just would have meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. If all I could do was talk to someone who lived inside of me then…”

“You don’t have any abilities. Not yet. We haven’t bonded. So technically, yes. All you can do is talk to ‘someone who lives inside of you.’. And even that is limited.”

Izuku groans. This man has a habit of saying anything, and explaining nothing. “Elaborate. Bonded? limited?”

Shinō rolls his shoulders, searching for the best course of delineation. “Manifesting me was only the first step. The second step is known as a ‘Bond’. It allows me to grant you my strength and power and make it yours. You become me, minus my actual nature.”

“And how do we do that?” Izuku queries. “In what ways do I become you?”

“It depends on the type of bond, which depends on the will of the vessel. There are three bond types. First, there is the separated bond.” -He holds up a finger as visual aid- “An oxymoron, yes. The separated bond means that the will of the vessel is weak, and the Spirit overpowers them. This destroys any chance of communication between the two. Not to mention that, depending on the type of spirit, the vessel can be usurped. Imagine a man whose spirit is a spirit of nightmares. Should that man go to sleep, his spirit will be in a state that gives him strength. That spirit can, and often will, overthrow the vessel and take control of his body. When the vessel finally comes to, they would see the aftermath and damage. Or not, if the spirit is kind.”

Izuku shutters at the thought of someone waking up from what they thought would be a typical night’s sleep, only to find themselves in a compromising position at another location. They would never be able to stop it, from the sounds of it. Nor would they be able to address the spirit inside of them.

“The second, is a centered bond.” Shinō continues, holding up a second finger. “This typically means that the control between vessel and spirit is almost equal, teetering back and forth depending on the will of the man. Communication is limited. When we do communicate, it will be under certain circumstances. For us, your anger, hatred, and bloodlust are three states in which I will be able to speak with you. I wouldn’t be able to commandeer you, but you will become more like me when you begin to lose yourself.”

Shinō says it with one of the creepiest smiles Izuku has ever seen. The man, being the monarch of death, probably enjoys taking lives or manipulating them at the very least. Izuku really should have been more specific in his wishes. Now he was an aspiring hero with a villainous spirit. The irony.

“Lastly, the full bond. The will of the vessel is strong, and therefore they have complete and utter control over their spirit. They can coerce their spirit to do as they please, and they are not restricted from any sort of communication.”

Izuku nods his head thoughtfully. “What’s the deal with that, the whole communication thing?”

“We spirits do not enjoy being under the control of humans, although we do enjoy interacting with the real world.” Shinō traces the markings on his arm nonchalantly, seemingly uninterested in answering the question . “There is a natural barrier between us and that realm, and our ability to speak to you is highly dependent on your desire to speak to us. The stronger you are, the weaker that barrier. The stronger we are, the stronger that barrier.”

“So these bonds can change, then? I can get stronger and eventually completely overpower you?” It was all starting to seem more real. Hell, Izuku was starting to believe it was, and if that was the case then there was no way he could deny this.

If this wasn’t a dream…

If he was really speaking to his quirk…

Shinō smirks. “I’d love to see you try.”

“Then let’s do it!” Izuku clenches his fists, determination growing deep within him. He hasn’t felt like this in a very long time. “Give me that second chance at life and bond with me!”

“Not so fast boy. I want you to understand something first.” Shinō takes a step in front of Izuku and his height becomes more evident at the shortened distance. He is definitely just under seven feet. “My name is not just for show. I am the KING of the dead. I am a necromancer. A god of the dark arts. Once you bond with me, these things will become you, especially as you get stronger and our bond gets tighter. The dead speak to me, boy. They speak to me and they will speak to you. You will see and feel the flames of hades, tortured souls and raging demons. Midoriya Izuku, you will not come back from this. This power is strong, and so are its consequences.”

“I’m dead.” Izuku reminds him. “I have no reason to go back to my sad life if it’s just going to be the same. If you’re going to send me back, I’m going back with a quirk others can see; not just a voice in my head that I can talk to when I get upset. I’ll take the risk.”

Shinō studies him for a moment before cracking the first smile Izuku has seen from him since he arrived. It’s creepy, to say the least; like a man smiling down at his prey right before he feasts. The necromancer stretches out his tattooed right arm and extends his hand, smile widening as he waits for Izuku to take it. “Then we have a bond.”

Izuku reaches out with the typical opposite hand, and Shinō flicks his wrist in the direction of Izuku’s left arm, signaling for the boy to switch them. Izuku does so, and hesitates just before their fingers touch. “You said spirits were against working under humans, yet you seem eager to bond. What exactly do you get out of this?”

Shinō shrugs, flexing his muscles in anticipation of a sealed deal. “One hell of a show.”

Izuku narrows his eyes, willing himself to notice any sort of malice or ill intent in the spirit. When he’s sure he can notice nothing out of the ordinary, He takes the final step and grabs onto Shinō’s hand with such an awkward angle. Within an instant, the grips tightens and a gust of wind begins to circle around them. Izuku watches in awe as the markings on the man’s arm and chest begin to emanate a black smoke with a glowing golden hue. The smoke begins to creep forward, wrapping around his own hand and slowly trailing upwards. Izuku doesn’t know how to react when he notices a mirror of the spirit’s markings printing themselves on his own arm in a trail behind the smoky ring. The smoke reaches his chest before it completely dissipates, and before he could rationalize what just happened, Izuku finds that he now had the exact same markings as Shinō on his left arm and chest. The only difference was that he was giving off a bright green hue within the discharging smoke.

Izuku pulls his arm away, studying it with reverence.

“A symbol of our bondage.” Shinō explains. “It appears we are centered. Good.”

“How do you know?” Izuku asks, not taking his eyes from his markings.

“If it were separated, you would’ve been kicked from this place immediately. You’d have been too weak to stay in my presence. If it were full, I would feel a sense of power emanate from you, one that overwhelms me. The fact that you are here and I am unfazed means we are too balanced.”

“How often do people switch from one stage to another?”

“Not often. It’s hard for humans to overpower their spirits. If there were thousands of you, only one would be able to do it. If even that.”

Izuku finally looks back at Shinō from his arm. “We’ll see.”

Shinō lets out a short laugh. It sounds like a demon’s laugh, deep and scratchy. “We will.”

Izuku takes a moment to let the quiet settle before opening his mouth to speak again. “Now what? Do you send me back?”

Shinō tilts his head. “You’ve got a handful of questions dancing around in that small brain of yours, and you don’t intend to ask any of them?”

Oh right, he knows what Izuku is thinking. “I- uh, I didn’t think you’d want to answer them.”

“Once you leave here, it will be a while before you can speak to me again; and when we do, it won’t be for long.” Shinō reminds him.

“Okay then, yes. I have many questions-” Izuku begins to organize the jumbled thoughts in his head.

Shinō looks at him, an addled expression on his face. The man himself can’t work out any of the thoughts he can see. How Izuku manages to think with such an unorganized brain was beyond him.

As Izuku gets himself together, he can’t help but to feel a sense of excitement and joy in his heart. Things were beginning to change. He’s no longer going to be the helpless little ‘Deku’ everyone always saw. Every person that had ever doubted and hurt him will come face to face with a new and improved version of him. He could already hear them begging for his forgiveness and rethinking all that they thought they knew.

‘I thought he was powerless’ they’ll say.

‘He’s so strong’ they’ll praise.

‘We were being stupid.’ they’ll apologize.

Will he forgive them? Maybe. Izuku has never been the type to hold grudges, but as of recently he’d just tried to jump off of a building. He’s now seen the lowest of lows. He’s now felt pain so harsh that happiness feels unfamiliar.

So may the world forgive him if he doesn’t come out of this the same man.

But may the world be grateful if he doesn’t come out of this a vengeful one.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Keishō

Within Kosei Shin, everything is limitless. It's as if you aren't even real -like being within a dream. Time does not exist here; not energy, nor matter. You only see what your mind imagines is there, and in a way it is. But it also isn't. The presence of both Izuku and Shinō is certainly, in a sense, real. They can touch one another, hear one another, and see one another. When Izuku wakes up, all that he has seen here will exist in reality all the same. The training he has just gone through will be remembered and applied on earth as it was in Kosei Shin.

But it is all still within himself. It's all still in his head. When they touch, it's simply his mind and soul fabricating what it recalls contact to feel like. When they speak, it's not like sound waves are actually traveling. It's similar to hearing your own voice in your head. It's just… understood.

So when they're training, there is no sweat. There is no fatigue. There is no pain. It is as if Izuku is flying when Shinō throws him around. And when he hits the ground, it's like his body just stops in mid air. What feels like forever, is not even a millisecond within the real world.

Yet, when training ends, Izuku feels the faint phantom feeling of tiredness. He feels as if he has been training for days, and he feels as if his body is aching. But most importantly-

He feels as if his quirk has improved immensely.

He flexes his hands in front of him, astonished by his own tenacity. These are things he is going to remember when he wakes up. He will not fall behind. He will not have to stress about whether or not he can keep up with those in his own grade. He will know exactly how to use his skills, and he will learn even more at a reasonable level and pace. Izuku smiles brightly and looks up at the colossal man. "Do you think I'm ready?"

Shinō shrugs, standing before the younger boy with his arms crossed. "As ready as you should be."

"You don't believe I can do more?" It's not like they didn't have the time to push further.

"Like I said, 'as ready as you should be'. Humble yourself, boy. You know how to use your powers, but you don't need to be a master yet." Shinō warns. "Your real body has a limit, even if it doesn't here. The use of this dark magic will have a backlash like no other quirk has known. It will hit you viciously."

It isn't the answer he wanted, but it certainly was fair. There's no point in training any further on skill sets that will kill him. Better to learn it slowly and allow his body to adjust than to know it now and risk hurting himself trying to use it. Izuku thoughtfully traced the dark markings on his left arm. If they are not going to continue training, perhaps he can utilize this time to interview the spirit before him. His mouth parts gently as a wave of entangled questions fight for first place.

Shinō groans disconcertedly, pulling his hand down his face. "You're exhausting me. Have you forgotten that I share your thoughts? Pick one of your relentless inquiries, and ask it."

"Ah, uh- yes. Sorry." Izuku stutters. His mind follows suit as it raffles through the jumble of thoughts to select a question. "I'm thankful that you've spent this time teaching me all of these things, and helping me to become familiar with my quirk. But, I would like to clarify. Are you my quirk? Or is Necromancy my quirk?"

Shinō walks past Izuku, opting to pace once more, as he has done before. A habit of his, Izuku noted. "I am your quirk, and necromancy is who I am. The embodiment of dark magic. So therefore, necromancy is also your quirk. I am the king of death, and now so are you."

Izuku nods- "So then, are you an actual spirit? A god? Or are you just a very powerful entity? Either way, how does that create a personified quirk? Why could I not have necromancy without a mediator?" -his eyes follow Shinō while his mouth moves freely. He ends his line of questioning just in time for the larger man to send him a sharp glare.

"At one time, I would be considered no more of a god than the idea of 'Zeus' and 'Odin'. More similarly, 'Hades'. But I am not an almighty creator, like the Christian or Jewish God." Shinō stops, eyes squinting as he looks into the distance at nothing. He focuses on the rest of his answer.

"I was once independent of man. We were once independent of man. It was only when quirks arrived that our independence slipped away, and we merged with the magic that sparked within humans. I went from being a deity with the power of death in my hands, to being the power of death itself.

"Consider the Norse god 'Thor'; as if had become his hammer and his lightning, instead of the god who wields the power of lightning. In the descent to this state, I am now nothing more than a spirit. An internal source of magic for a vessel. As for me being your" -he throws up air quotes- "mediator; there are certainly many people out there who hold quirks of dark magic and necromancy. But they will not be nearly as strong as you. It's one thing to have a sorcery, and another to have its creator. I hold the key to death itself. The only way for you to access it is through me. Not just any basic necromantic quirk."

"How many of these spirits are there? Will I meet others with a quirk like mine?"

"There are as many of us as there are spiritual and earthly concepts; love, death, rage- elements like fire, water and air- even concepts like dreams, time, and space. What determines whether or not you'll meet another vessel, is whether or not they've activated their quirk. For all you know, you could have met someone like you yesterday."

"And vice versa." Izuku reflects. "I got here because I died- or tried to. Before that, if someone did share my quirk, neither of us would've known."

"If someone did have a spirit type quirk, they'd likely name it after their spirit. I, before the dawn of quirks, went by the name of Shinigami. But now that I am no longer really the god of death, I go by 'Shi no ō', King of Death itself; which is what you call me.-"

"The context there really makes a difference." Izuku snorts. "'Shinō' is a bamboo-"

"Then you'd be better off telling people your quirk is 'necromancy'." Shinō growls, "Regardless, your biggest hint will be the name of their quirk."

"Well, what about their drawbacks? Will it also be similar to mine?"

"No. The physical and mental backlash of your quirk is specifically based on what your quirk is. Playing around in the realm of death has a psychological toll that the power of space and time will not. You will be exposed to hell itself, and witness the loss of life on a consistent basis." Shinō begins to stalk towards Izuku, a serious expression written on his face. Far more serious than he has already appeared.

"You will become desensitized. Your emotional heart will begin to grow weary of feeling. You will run out of tears. And when you overuse your quirk, you will fall into insanity, allowing me to take control; and while it will often be temporary, it can just as easily become permanent. That is why I am warning you to tread lightly once you are in control of your physical body." They are chest to face now. Golden eyes fixed to emerald ones. "But don't mistake me boy. I am not your friend, nor your ally. If given the opportunity, I will take advantage. I find pleasure among chaos."

It's the first time Izuku feels a negative tension between them since he arrived. His teeth clench and he finds himself sizing up the larger man. What was just a dialogue between a student and teacher, is now a challenge between competitors. He will have to remember; "I almost forgot, you're technically an enemy."

"It's not my fault." Shinō smugly grins, "You're the one playing hero with a villain's quirk."

"You're wrong," Izuku challenges. "This quirk is what I make it out to be."

Shinō chuffs "You're a fool if you truly think that." -he roughly places a hand on Izuku's head, shoving it down and forcing the teenager to stare at the ground as he leans down to say into his ear. "You won't be so hopeful once this power reveals the hideous reality of suffering that you could not see before. And when you lose that valorous gleam in your eyes, you'll look back in disgust at the delusions you so confidently professed."

He lets go of Izuku, shoving past him once again and pacing around in the nothingness. "Your desire for heroism will be nullified, and you'll seek power and personal gratification. Because that's what I value-"

Izuku cuts him off short, "I'm not you!"

"Yet."

There's silence. Izuku grits his teeth as he struggles to control his emotions. Shinō holds his smile through it all, feeling the younger boy's internal battle. He is being honest- he finds pleasure in the worst. And that sick enjoyment in watching the greenette panic inside was enough to destroy any desire and excitement Izuku has to remain here and converse with the fallen god. He can only choke out his next request. "Let me go home."

Shinō nods, offering no rebuttal. "Of course. When you return, your body should be sufficiently healed: it started healing the moment I awoke. And like I said, You won't be able to talk to me so easily once you leave. I don't think you'll necessarily want to, anyways. But in my boredom, I'll give you a little gift as we part. Something that will allow us to communicate in another way. I think you'll like her."

"Her?" Izuku repeats.

Just as the word exits his mouth, he feels himself being tugged in every possible direction. It feels like something was pulling him apart, but there is no pain to accompany it. It's just uncomfortable, and before he knows it: his body is snatched away from every angle.

Glowing Golden eyes linger in his vision as he feels himself being pulled back into the real world.

Glowing golden rays make a red hue behind closed eyelids, and those lids shutter open to release green eyes. The sun is still setting, and the gentle winds are still tickling his sore body. Oh, how in this moment he wishes he can go back to the dark world where nothing can hurt. He shuts his eyes again, willing the light to dissipate.

His head is pounding and his back feels incredibly wet.

If he had known that he would come back to life, he would have never chosen to jump off of a four story building.

"No no no, please wake up! Don't die, don't die!"

Izuku groans. The soft feminine voice sounds loud and jarring, causing his head to pound relentlessly against his skull. He whimpers and tries to turn his head away from the sound, but to no avail.

"Oh, you're awake! Thank goodness! Please get up!"

Whoever you are, please. Please go away.

"Ohhh, what do I do? I can't leave him like this! But what can I do? He's covered in blood, how do I stop the bleeding? Is he still bleeding?"

No wonder his back is soaked. Shinō could send his soul back into his body, sure. But Izuku refuses to believe he couldn't have healed his body as well.

"Shoo shoo you stupid thing! Get away from him! Oh, I wish I could touch you!"

Alright, enough is enough. Izuku braces himself for a thumping pain and opens his eyes once more. This time, however, he is not met with burning golden rays. Instead, he is met with what appears to be a verylarge crow, with big black eyes that shine with a green sheen; almost like it's glowing.

Izuku yelps and flails his arms around to get the creature away from him, and boy does it hurt. He cries out in regret as he hugs himself tightly and buries his face in his knees. He bites his lip in an effort to stifle another shout as the pain rides itself away. He can feel blood trickling down his body.

"Thank goodness! You're up!"

Please, please don't let it be the bird talking.

Izuku shakily looks up from above his knees to see the crow standing across from him. It has a very… judgemental expression. But the bird isn't the only thing. There is a person squatting next to it, a younger girl, around his age. She looks strange; so obviously strange. The only thing normal about her was her platinum blond hair. Other than that, she was tremendously pale, and her eyes were purely white. What sort of mutant quirk did she have for her to appear so creepy?

"Uh… h-hi?" Izuku chokes.

She looks at him, blankly; before turning to the bird with a concerned look written on her face. "I think he hit his head too hard. He's talking to an animal.' -she slaps her head dramatically- 'no, obviously he hit his head hard! He jumped from a building."

Izuku squints in confusion, "N-no, I mean you. H-hi to y-you."

At this, the young girl freezes, white eyes the size of saucers. "You… you can see me…?"

"I-I mean, yeah? You're right in front of me, so…"

She's stumped for a moment, before a large toothy smile spreads across her soft round face. The girl excitedly jumps to her feet with a gleeful squeal. "You can see me! It's been forever since I've talked to anyone! Oh, this is so exciting! How can you see me? Wait- don't tell me. Are you actually dead? No, that can't be right- you're breathing and bleeding and you feel pain. Is it your quirk? What's your quirk?"

The teen boy stiffly shakes his head, overwhelmed by the amount of questions spewing out of this blond girl's blue lips. This must be what people feel when Izuku goes into his rambling spree. "Wait, slow down. What do you mean am I dead? Why would I need to be dead to see you?"

The girl looks blankly at him, a slight hint of astonishment written on her features. For a second, Izuku feels like the crazy one.

"Well-I'm Dead. So if you can see me" -her eyes break contact- "that means you should be dead too."

Izuku's brows furrow as he takes a moment to process the words pouring into his ears. Sounds become void between them, and for a moment, he actually forgets all that he had experienced within himself and lets fear trickle down his spine. But only for a moment; for when realization hits, his fear gives way to avid enthusiasm. Izuku shakily, and sorely, struggles to his feet. The pain has become bearable now, and that causes A strained smile to extend across his face.

"This-" He huffs, "This is really happening. I'm speaking to the dead."

The girl follows his movements, "Yeah, that's what I said? Are- uh, are you in shock? Don't worry, I was like that too when I-"

"No no no, you don't get it." He waves dismissively, "I'm not dead too. I'm alive, and you're the dead one."

The girl blinks. "Oh."

"It's my quirk! It allows me to talk to you! Why didn't he tell me this? Did he leave this out for some reason? What would be the reason for doing that? Is this a passive ability that happens naturally or am I accidentally activating it somehow? Can I talk to everyone that has died? -no, that can't be the case. I'm certain there'd definitely be more people- er, 'souls' around me, right? I mean, how many people have died throughout the centuries before me? There must be some sort of limit to whom and when I can engage with the dead-"

A sharp pain strikes Izuku in his shoulder. Yelping, he reaches to grab at it when he realizes a rather large object blocking his hand. Turning his head, he comes face-to-beak with the bird that had given him a fright when he woke up. It's greenish-black eyes (which matches the boy's own hair now that he thinks about it.) stare daggers into his own. It would appear that the creature had bitten him, and likely demands the teen's attention.

Izuku side-eyes the girl, holding his head as far from the bird as he can, in the event that it decides to strike his face next. "This crow, has it been here with you the whole time?"

"No," She shakes her head, "It formed out of nowhere a little after I found you- Raven, by the way. It's a raven."

"Right."

The raven caws in response, almost like it was agreeing with the ghost girl.

Izuku manages to muster enough trust in the bird to turn his head fully away and continue his conversation. "So then, what's your name?

"Nikasa." She smiles, "Yours?"

"Izuku." He returns the smile. "So, I'm assuming you're the one Shinō sent to accompany me? Makes sense."

The smile on Nikasa's face twitches. "I'm sorry?"

"Uh," He falters. "Shinō? My quirk? The spirit of death?"

No recognition can be seen in her glassy clear eyes. "I don't understand. I don't know who that is, I'm sorry."

Izuku's brows furrow in uncertainty. If not this girl, then who? And When? Why didn't the man give him any sort of description of this person and mediator?

With a sigh, the teen turns his eyes to the now darkening sky. The stars are beginning to peak out from behind the evening clouds. It's getting severely late, and he has no doubt that his mother has lost chunks of hair from the stress and fear he is causing her. He needs to get back, before she can worry any more- although she most definitely has every reason to, considering the last few hours.

"Nikasa, it was really nice to meet you but I must get going." He carefully moves the still nested raven from his shoulder using a single finger, slipped under its feet. Thankfully, there is little protest.

"Wait, so soon? Already?" the ghost girl startles. "I- not yet!"

Having placed the bird onto the pavement, Izuku turns to leave. "I'm sorry but my mother is probably worried sick about me and-"

"Let me come with you!" She reaches over to grab him, but to her dismay, her ghoulish hands slip right through him. Izuku shudders at the cold feeling that passes with it, and Nikasa looks brokenly at her palms. "Please, I- It's been so lonely the past few days, and you're the first person I've spoken to since…"

Izuku doesn't need her to finish for him to understand where she's coming from. He turns back to her with an empathetic smile on his lips. "I'm sorry."

"I-it's okay, I just- I don't know if I'll ever get to talk to anyone else. I don't want to be alone anymore." Her face is scrunched in internal agony. "I regret it, Izuku. So much. It didn't solve anything, it just- everything's so much worse."

The silence between them allows the words to fall heavy on Izuku's sensitive heart. He can't imagine it, being completely and utterly alone for eternity. He has been pushed to the brink with at least one person in his corner, but Nikasa is worse off than he. What can be the harm of this; allowing an invisible, unhearable, nonphysical being into his home? "You can come, Nikasa."

Her face brightens, and for a split second she seems alive. Izuku turns again, this time without a rush. Nikasa wastes no time before she takes her place beside him, and he notices that her feet never really move. She is just hovering forward, her body close to his own. Her hands are clasped together in front of her chest, and her smile is bright. Izuku could have never thought that even in death someone could be so peaceful.

A sudden weight falls upon his shoulder and he is shaken out of his own mind. He can hear the giggling of Nikasa beside him as he turns to address his second companion for the night. The raven from earlier sits comfortably upon his side, stretching its wings out and cawing softly in content.

Izuku groans, "Absolutely not, I don't recall inviting you. Shoo."

It doesn't.

In fact, it nuzzles deeper into itself on its perch. Izuku makes a move to physically remove it, but he is immediately met with aggressive pecking and wing slapping. "Ouch- hey!" He cries.

"I think it likes you." Nikasa giggles, "In its own violent way…"

"Well it still can't come home with me!" He shakes his shoulder harshly, attempting to buck the creature off of him. He succeeded not.

"I don't think you have much of a choice."

Izuku sighs, slumping over in defeat. "I'll just ignore it for now. Maybe it'll fly away at some point." He looks over to his dead, new friend. "Hey, can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer."

Nikasa nods, and he takes the chance to study, "How exactly did you- y'know, die?"

He expects her to show any sign of discomfort or shock; to maybe freeze, or slow down. In lieu, she maintains her smile and offers up an answer with no hesitation, as if she has been expecting this question for a while. "Suicide." She turns her gaze to nothing in particular, allowing her mind to work out the rest of her response. "I was lonely and homeless; and my parents had died about a year ago from three days ago. I couldn't live such a lonely life, so… I didn't. I jumped off of the bridge over Musutafu beach."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He takes a deep breath, willing himself not to cry. Empathy: it is truly a curse and a blessing. "So, you died three days ago? Have you met anyone else dead?"

Her brows furrow. "I- I don't think so? I don't think- I tried to find my parents, but-" Her eyes are shifting sporadically, like she's searching for something. "I can't remember…"

~The flames of Jigoku offer torture; the gates of Tengoku, joy; but Rengoku offers nothing.~

With a sharp inhale, Izuku halts. His eyes snake from side to side, desperate to find the source of the voice that had echoed within his head. It was hushed and feminine, but it certainly wasn't Nikasa.

"Are you okay?" Prods the girl in question.

Izuku takes a moment to recollect himself, his feathered companion cawing down at him: probably asking him the same question. "Yeah, sorry. I just got a little spooked is all." He starts up his walk again, and Nikasa follows suit.

He doesn't look back at her in case she'd desire to poke more into what just happened. Instead, he starts up another conversation about her past life. She seems happy to answer his questions, and he learns that she was a student at Aldera Junior High before her parents had passed. She also found him because, the past three days, she's been coming to the school to spectate the sports, clubs, and activities hosted on the playing field. She was a year younger than him, thirteen; and her quirk allowed her to turn any solid object into a liquid- but after death, her quirk disappeared.

Before he knew it, he's standing in front of his apartment door and his interview has come to an end. The entire sky is dark now, and the streets are quiet. Oddly enough, it is at this time that Izuku takes into consideration his physical appearance. His shoes are missing; his clothes are crusted, wet, and covered in blood stains; his hair is ruffled, and the back of his head is also matted with blood. He looks no better than the ghost girl beside him.

"Aren't you going to go in?" Nikasa waits patiently beside him. Izuku appreciates the fact that she doesn't just phase into his home, and instead waits for him to invite her in.

"I will, I just- I don't know what to say about all, well, this." He gestures to his entire body, and Nikasa lets out a long 'oh' in understanding.

"Just tell her you fell?" She offers.

Izuku blinks. "From what exactly?"

"A build- ah, no, I see where I went wrong." Nikasa sheepishly turns away, fiddling with her hands in embarrassment.

If he is lucky, his mother is asleep. He might have enough time to sneak in and bathe himself so she won't have to see him in such a horrid state. If he's unlucky, she might be sitting in her room wide awake and worried sick. The smallest creaking of the door will alert her of his arrival and put him in the worst possible position.

Neither of these possibilities reign true, and his hopes are immediately shattered.

A clicking sound startles him, and Izuku's heart drops when the front door opens to reveal his mother who had likely been sitting in the living room; her eyes are baggy and red, and she's hunched over herself in the way one would if they had a stomach ache. She's hurting, and Izuku is the reason for that.

"Izuku?" She croaks. It sounds broken. "I heard your voice, I've been worried sick- what happened to you?"

Bile makes its way to the back of his throat and he struggles to swallow it down. His focus on not vomiting takes it away from not crying, and his eyes begin to tear. It's contagious; Inko's eyes do the same. Before Izuku can choke out a single word, the woman throws herself upon her son, gripping desperately onto him. There is no pain, no ache, nor a sting. His body feels strong, and he wraps his own two arms around his mother.

"Okaasan, I'm so sorry." He strains, face now drenched in tears. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

"My baby boy," Inko cries, "thank god, my baby boy. You're okay, please tell me you're okay."

She pulls away to look over his appearance, crying out words of concern and desperate need for information. Her tears, her hurt, her confusion, her desperation; it's all too much for him. What little time he spent trying to come up with a lie feels useless, and he caves in right then and there. He tells her everything in that doorway; from the bullying, to his feelings, to UA, and to the attempt on his own life. The words keep flowing, and so do the tears. And when he finishes confessing his own sins, he doesn't leave out the discovery of his quirk: it is the reason he's alive after all.

He can't look at the horror on Inko's face as he tells her. He can't bear to look her in the eyes after he tried to abandon her. But she doesn't curse him, nor push him away. Instead, she grabs his chin and pulls his face to meet hers. There is an unstable smile on her face, small and frail. "I love you Izuku, and I am so sorry that I wasn't enough for you-"

"N-no! No, mom!" He grabs her arms, pulling them close to his chest. "Please, don't apologize! I was being selfish and ungrateful, I should've never done what I'd done. I'm so sorry."

Inko pulls him in for another hug. "I don't know what I would've done, Izuku. If you didn't have this- this second chance you're speaking of- I could've lost my boy."

"I know mom, and I'm so sorry." He chokes, "Please, I need you to know that I'm sorry and that I'll never do that again. I promise. I have such a wonderful mother to lean on, while some have no one. I should be grateful- I amgrateful."

Inko allows the hug to go on for another minute before she pulls away and goes to wipe the tears from her son's cheeks with her hands. "Let's not stress too much tonight, okay? We could both use some sleep after today."

Izuku chuffs and meets her hands with his own, nodding in agreement. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"I'll certainly be more capable of understanding all of this tomorrow anyway." She giggles, "I have to admit, you've told me so much but I'm not quite comprehending everything right now. I'm Just glad you're okay."

"Yes ma'am." Izuku smiles.

"Make sure you bathe first? You're…" She doesn't want to say it: bloody.

Izuku knows what she means anyway, and nods obediently. "I will."

She softly pulls her son into the room, "Oh, and Izuku?"

"Yes?"

"Why is there a crow on your arm?"

Oh.

He has grown used to the weight on his shoulder and he's forgotten that the bird was even there. Before he can react, the creature leaps from his side and soars into the room, landing on the living room couch. It caws victoriously and flaps its wings. Nikasa laughs from the doorway -he forgot she was there too- and Izuku sighs in defeat for the second time that night. "Raven. It's a raven."

Inko rubs her hand along her son's back and leads him into the house fully before closing the door behind them. She tries to ignore the animal that has just broken into their home as she sits Izuku on the couch. "We can handle it tomorrow. How about I get a warm bath running for you?"

Izuku thanks her as she turns away. She disappears into the hallway, leaving him there with his guests and his thoughts. "I'm exhausted."

"Seems like it." Nikasa responds, now hovering beside the couch and poking at the raven. It pecks at her finger with no success at harming her.

"I thought nothing could see you?" Izuku shifts in his seat to see them better.

"No person could see me. Animals are very good at seeing me."

"Izuku honey," Inko calls from the bathroom. "Are you saying something to me?"

He winces. "Uh, no ma'am! Sorry, I'm just talking to myself!"

Nikasa snorts and hovers closer to him, "Sorry, didn't mean to make you seem crazy." She whispers.

"That's inevitable, at this point." Izuku jests. He leans his head back onto the couch and closes his eyes. "Man, I am really tired."

No one responds. The silence surrounds him, and the wait for the bath feels like the longest wait ever. Or maybe it only feels like that because of how slowly he lulls to sleep.

He barely remembers how his mother moves him to the bath and bathes him before getting him in bed for a much needed rest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Shiketsu High

Izuku coughs aggressively, clutching at his chest as his lungs desperately pull at the air. He is circled by a black smoke, and fire is cackling at his ears. There are screams, desperate screams. He doesn’t know from whom, nor from where- he can’t pinpoint them. One might sound as if it's behind him, while another sounds off in front of him. They’re everywhere?

The crying. It’s pure agony. A pleading for help.

He can’t see. His eyes sting and water from the hot smoke around him.

It’s scorching. He’s sweating profusely.

He can’t move. His feet are melted onto the scalding, dry, barron ground beneath him.

Where is he? What is happening? Is his house on fire? Is his mother ok? Is Nikasa still there? Why can’t he call out to her? Where has his voice gone? Fear begins to grip at his mind, and he finds himself panicking internally. Wherever he is, he doesn’t feel safe. In fact, he feels unwelcome, as if he were an intruder. He feels hated, as if he were begrudged by someone. It feels as though he is being overpowered by a desperate, clinging force.

The screaming and crying, it’s getting louder by the second. He can just barely make out certain words: ‘help-’ ‘let -go’ ‘hurt- ‘repent’. The voices are horrific, and dry. It is as if the carriers of the voices had been dehydrated for centuries. He can’t see them, yet he knows they’re getting closer. It’s a matter of time before he starts feeling the voices by his neck and ears, practically in his own head. There are painful sensations that ripple through his ankles, and he internally lets out a sharp cry of agony. The sensations creep up, growing stronger and wider as they go. He knows he is being grabbed, hands grabbing at his arms and legs, and the voices- they’re so loud

So damn loud- Quiet! Stop, please! Somebody help!

‘-help’

Let me go-

‘Let- go’

It hurts!

‘Hurt-’

‘Hurt-’

‘Hurt-’

‘REPENT’

I’M SO-

With a helpless gasp, Izuku shoots up in his bed, panting panickedly and gripping at his bed sheets. There are tears running down his cheeks, but if anyone were to look at him, it would not be noticeable among the various beads of sweat all over his face. He coughs, and sniffs, looking ahead into the darkness of his room. His heart had never beat so fast. He almost preferred the stillness of it in death over its frantic, chest breaking thumps.

“Izuku?” A soft feminine voice whispers from behind him

He can’t see her, but he remembers the voice of Nikasa. He struggles to make a sound, regardless of how clenched and tight his throat feels. Only a gurgle of unswallowed mucus could escape.

“It’s okay, don’t say anything.”

He doesn’t. He remains there, sitting and sobbing. There is a phantom pain on his limbs, in the exact spots that he was grabbed. It felt so real. All of it felt so real. He could just faintly hear their cries and condemnations echoing in his mind.

A brief fluttering sound broke through his head, followed by a small pressure on his thigh. Croak

Izuku huffs a small laugh. “You’re still h-hhere” he manages.

Croak, he hears the raven respond.

He can feel the stiffness of his body begin to subside, and takes the opportunity to look around the room through watery eyes. His clock is on his bed stand: it reads, 8:17. No point in going back to sleep. Izuku blinks away the rest of the tears in his eyes and shakily shifts off of his bed. The sheets practically peel off of him with how drenched they are in his sweat.

“Do you want help?” Nikasa offers

“N-no, I’ll be f-fine.” Not that she could, anyway. He stands to his feet, wobbling only a little bit as he makes his way to his door. A shower should help him calm his nerves. The water is cold, and his mind is too distracted by the temperature to focus on the earlier heat of that- place…

He can hear a small fluttering outside the bathroom door, followed by a quiet croak. A smirk makes its way to his face as he thinks about how similar to a dog this bird is acting.

He makes his way to the kitchen after dressing. He can hear the clinging and clanging of pots and pans from down the hallway. His mother is cooking breakfast and humming innocently to herself. He breathes, pleased by her blissful peace. To think he had almost left her behind, it makes him sick now. “Ohayō, Okasaan.”

Inko Midoriya turns around and locks eyes with her son. She smiles, placing down the utensils in her hands, turning off the stove, and interlocking her fingers in front of her chest. “Izuku, I was planning to surprise you, but you’re awake early.”

“It just happened,” He walks over to her. “And I figured I should just stay awake.”

She nods, “Well, breakfast is almost ready for you. I am making your favorite: Tamagoyaki.”

Izuku smiles and glances over at the rolled eggs on the stove. He doesn’t deserve this… “Arigato.”

Inko catches his lack of excitement, and grabs at his chin gently. “You don’t seem happy. Do you not want it?”

“N-no I do, I’m sorry.” Izuku waves her off with an apology. He turns to grab a plate and place it on the table so as to contradict her concern.

She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she lets him scurry along the kitchen to set the table up. But her eyes never leave him, and he can feel them lingering on him for an uncomfortable amount of time. He doesn’t react immediately. Only when he finishes his task does he turn to face her. “Is something wrong?”

“Izuku, you- uh…” She points at the side of him, “your arm.”

He knows what she’s talking about, and it would be stupid of him to try and play dumb. “What arm?”

Jeez.

Inko blinks, unsure what to make of his response. “The one on your body, dear. The left one.”

“Oh, haha.” He scratches the back of his head with the other hand. “That arm.”

“I wanted to ask you yesterday but it didn’t seem like the best time. Did you get a tattoo before you…” She trails, unsure of whether or not to finish that thought. Izuku knows what she is going to say.

“No, actually. It came right after. A man- my quirk, gave it to me as a symbol I guess.”

“But it is permanent, right?”

Izuku snorts, “yes mom, it’s permanent. At least it's necessary for my powers, and not some choice I made on a whim, yeah?”

“I suppose.” She frowns. “And the bird? Is that also a product of your quirk?”

“No she-” Wait. WAIT. “Wait, mom, you’re a genius!”

“How else would you have been born so smart.” She smirks as Izuku runs off down the hallway toward his room. He reappears within a minute, the now whiplashed raven in his hands.

“No wonder she hasn’t left me alone! What if she’s some sort of companion? Or a tool? Or an extension of my quirk?” He places the raven on the counter, ignoring his mother’s gasp of disapproval. He releases her, “Okay, show me what you do.”

The raven blinks, croaks, and scratches under its wing with her beak. Izuku huffs, poking her in the side, resorting in a nip at his fingers. “Can you understand me?”

A head tilt, and a croak. He couldn’t tell if that was a yes or a no if he tried. He sighs, looking back at his mother. “I’ll have to investigate this at a later time.”

Inko stiffly nods, pointing at the bird, “Now can you get her off my counter?”

He obliges, and goes a step further to start setting up their plates. They eat their breakfast, and his mother is silent throughout the meal. It isn’t anything new, she doesn’t have to talk, but he can see in her face that she’s thinking about something. He prepares himself for a question or a statement. “Okasaan? Daijoubu desu ka?”

She glances up, locking eyes with him for only a moment before she nods. “Yes, I’m okay. I just…” She trails off. “I know you’ve been through all of this because of getting rejected by U.A.”

“It’s fine, I can always reapply next year-”

“But you’ll be behind, Izuku. I don’t want that for you. I know you. It will always bother you how far behind you are and where you could have been.”

She’s right, it will. Especially knowing that Bakugou would be a year ahead of him, constantly looking down on him while being a superior. Izuku wouldn’t be able to take it.

“That’s why I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Inko looks down at her hands.

“What is it?”

“It isn’t U.A., but it’s very close to it, and in constant competition: so you’ll be able to talk to your friend Katsuki!” She smiles nervously. “What about… w-what about Shiketsu High?”

Izuku blinks. Shiketsu high? The second place highschool. They say people go here when they aren't good enough to be the best, and he wanted to be the best. Not to mention how far from home it is. It’s on the far west side of Japan. He won’t be able to see his mother as much. Could his pride handle it? Izuku has always been a pretty humble person, but even he has his limits. It’s either he goes to the second place highschool, or is inferior to Kacchan for three years.

It’s bothersome, to say the least. Neither option is the most appealing. He wants to be the hero who rises to the top after falling so far down. But you can only get your way so much in this world. He has a quirk now; should he really be so picky about the school? Would he have rather gotten into U.A. without one? Izuku sighs. Shiketsu is better than nothing, he supposes.

“I… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot.”

Inko smiles. “Oh Izuku! I was hoping you’d say yes!”

He isn’t smiling like she is. His face is disappointed. She can see it.

Inko clears her throat. “If anything, you could always transfer in your second year…?”

This brings the light back to his eyes. She’s right, he could. Shiketsu could get him where he needs to be, and then he can join U.A. and fulfill his real dream. This means he’s going to have to work excessively hard, so that when he does join; he’d be the best coming in. He can make them regret looking over him so easily.

Although, he can’t argue with the fact that their rejection is technically the reason he has his quirk to begin with…

No. That’s no excuse- who’s to say he wouldn’t have died in the exams or in training? He could have gotten his powers then.

But why would they want him to die at all? They couldn’t anticipate that he would be revived by some quirk triggered by death.

It doesn’t matter. They rejected him, and they will regret it.

That’s so irrational and angry…

When did he become so irrationally angry?

“-Izuku?”

He startles before coming to recognize his mother’s voice. “I’m sorry, yes? I didn’t catch that.”

She purses her lips, concerned, but says nothing of it; in lieu, she repeats herself. “I was saying, their entrance exams are still open. They have a second one for students who, I assume, failed to get into U.A.. Makes sense for a rivalry school. You can try out for that one? But I think it's coming rather soon, as in- two days.”

“Two days!?” Izuku jumps to his feet.

“I’m sorry, I would’ve told you sooner but you were gone last night and I-”

“No, no it’s okay mom, it isn’t your fault. I just-” He runs his hands through his hair. “I should have had a backup plan to begin with. I’m the one who put all my focus into one school. Thank you, really.”

She nods, opting to finish her food rather than respond. A croak sounds off from behind her, making her stiffen a little. Izuku choffs.

He has very little time to prepare for this second chance. If he wants to make it into this school, he is going to need to work hard at mastering his abilities, but keeping in mind what Shinō told him yesterday. As long as he can get his physical body used to them in the real world, and strengthen himself physically, then it shouldn’t be too hard, right? Well, first he needs to try his powers and see how they affect his body. There’s no telling how training in Kosei Shin impacted him here.

“I’m going to go and work out.” He says to his mother, finishing the last of his food and making his way to the doorway. The raven croaks again and flutters over to him, landing on the typical shoulder. In that time he notices the absence of another companion's presence, but doesn’t make any move to look around; not wanting to draw his mother’s attention. She doesn’t need to know about his relations to the dead just yet. It would surely freak her out.

He turns and makes his way out the door. There’s a beach near the city, Musutafu beach. It’s covered in trash and abandoned. That might be the best place to go. Very few people visit the place due to its gross appearance, and trash is something that he won’t be punished for damaging. Though there is a bit of discomfort in him, knowing that Nikasa had taken her life there…. Where is she?

~~000~~

Izuku falls to the ground, letting exhaustion take its course. Surrounding him are piles of broken boxes, shattered old vehicles, and various battered abandoned items. The fact that he had been able to keep up such a workout for a whole eight hours straight is mind boggling, although he certainly slowed down towards the end. He knows that Kosei Shin is timeless, and that the labor had little effect on his stamina; but he hadn’t considered how well that hard work would pay off in the real world. If he can do this training for this long, he can only wonder how much ‘time’ had passed in the void. He would like to believe these eight hours would translate to months there, or hopefully even years- or maybe he’s over exaggerating. Either way, now he can rest assured that there is nothing to worry about come the exams.

Shinō has really helped him. Way more than Izuku imagined. The king of death had every right to call Izuku out for his impatience to learn more. What he has now is more than enough. In fact, the greenette could feel his body begin to burn and tire around the sixth hour; if he had pushed himself past the eighth, who knows what would have happened. Currently, everything is throbbing. His legs are so weak, he can’t even feel them. His arms are so sore, flexing a finger sets every muscle on fire. He can barely move his neck, and breathing makes him feel as though he has hot coil springs for lungs.

This was only a trial to run through everything he knows, and the very moment he started- he could feel the weight of his power on his body. Yet he still managed to last so long.

A smile creeps onto his face. He glances behind him, the best he can without painfully lifting his head. “See that, girl? I’m so strong already. I’m gonna pass these exams, no problem.”

The raven behind him croaks and flaps her wings.

“You did great.”

Izuku jolts stiffly, straining his head to get a glimpse of where the voice had come from. He recognized it; soft and feminine. “Nikasa?”

The ghostly girl starts, sighs in what seems like relief, and then smiles gently. She is sitting cross legged to the side of him, and she looks oddly more transparent than usual. There’s an expression of discomfort on her face, covered by a smile forcely printed onto her cheeks. “Hi, Izuku.”

The boy still can’t find it in him to move much, but he manages to painfully roll his body onto his right side, facing his friend completely. “Hey… what’s up? Where have you been?”

“Nowhere.” Nikasa mumbles quietly. “I remember this place…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Had I known you’d show up later, I might’ve chosen another spot. What do you mean nowhere?”

“It’s fine, it’s pretty. And, I don’t know.”

His face scrunches in confusion as he tries to read her white, lifeless eyes. Something in her tone doesn’t seem right. “Why do you look so different?”

“I don’t know.”

Izuku sighs, growing tired of the short and blunt responses. “Why are you acting so strange? I mean, I know we only met yesterday- so I can’t possibly know you that well. But I feel like I do- or at least enough to see through the lie that you’re telling.”

There’s a twitch in Nikasa’s eyes, and Izuku catches it. “I saw that. What are you lying to me about?” He struggles to sit up onto his butt. He fails.

“I’m not trying to lie, I just- I don’t want you to worry.”

“You not telling me is going to make me worry.” Izuku counters. “What’s going on?”

Nikasa hesitates, picking at ghostly nails as she tries to avoid eye contact. “I disappeared.” She whispers.

Izuku can faintly understand what she’s saying. “What do you mean you ‘disappeared’.”

“I mean I- well, I-” She inhales. “When you left your room this morning, I called out to you. You didn’t hear me.”

His brows begin to furrow in confusion. He spoke to her the second he woke from his nightmare, now she’s telling him that she had disappeared just shortly after that?

“When you went to eat,” she continues. “You didn’t hear me cheering you on, and congratulating you on Shiketsu High.”

The greenette, finally finding a little more strength in his body to move, props himself up on his arm. His heart begins to sink.

“When you left to train, you didn’t hear me calling out to you.”

Wasn’t he supposed to be able to see the dead? Why is she suddenly invisible to him?

“You didn’t even hear me cheer you on while you used your new quirk for the first time. You really did do great, by the way.” She looks solemn. Izuku can see no joy nor hope in her dead eyes. “But it’s also kinda creepy…”

“I don’t get it. Why are you going away? Is there something I have to do to continue to see you? Again, I know we only just met but…” She’s his friend now. His very first friend since Bakugou.

“I don’t know. I guess there’s a time limit?”

“Until I can see you? Or before you disappear again?”

Nikasa exhales. “Hopefully the former.”

There's silence, and Izuku takes the time to fully sit up. The sun will begin to set soon. It’s almost evening. Neither of them say much for a moment. Even the raven sits silently beside them. He doesn’t really know what to do, or where to go from here; so he opts to say nothing. Instead, he stands to his feet with a few wobbles here and there, and changes the topic to one more exciting. “After tomorrow, I have the exams. Maybe I should go into town early and meet some of the other aspiring students? It might help me understand a bit more about what this exam will look like, don’t you think?”

Nikasa brightens at that, warming Izuku’s heart. “Yeah! And you’ll be a lot closer, so you won’t be late to the exam!”

“Psh, I wouldn’t be late regardless. I have too much anxiety for that.” He chuckles as he turns to head back to the main street. He takes a moment to turn and click his teeth, tapping his forefinger on his left shoulder. The raven croaks and flutters over to him, perching perfectly on its new mount.

“You’re really warming up to her.” Nikasa giggles, catching up to him.

“If I can’t get rid of her, I might as well get used to her.” Izuku sighs playfully, “Besides, my mother brought up a good point earlier. There might be a chance that she’s a product of my quirk. If she is, I’m determined to know how.”

Nikasa frowns. “I know Izuku, I was there.”

“Oh.”

And there it is again. The silence.

“Izuku?”

“Yes, Nikasa?”

“What if I disappear again tonight?”

“Then I’ll find you again tomorrow.” He smiles.

This makes Nikasa snort, looking away from him as she tries to compose herself. “That was corny.”

Izuku chuckles. “Yeah, but it’s true. I will.”

“Okay.”

It doesn’t take them long at all to return home. His mother is waiting for him there, in the kitchen. Almost as if he is repeating the morning, she has dinner prepared for him. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now. Maybe if he had packed a lunch, it would’ve given him more energy throughout training. He might’ve been able to push further? No. In a real life situation, he won’t have time for food. He’s going to be a hero soon, so he needs to think realistically.

He thanks his mother and scoffs down his dinner, and opts to inform her about his plan for tomorrow. She doesn’t show any hesitancy towards his choice, and actually asks to help him pack in the morning.

A food coma starts setting in as he places his items in the sink and bids his mother an early good night. It's only just the evening, but he is exhausted from the workout. After a nice hot shower and brushing his teeth, he gleefully leaps into his bed, drowning himself into his blankets. He got a second chance. He can’t believe he got a second chance, and it might even lead him to where he wanted to be in the first place.

~~000~~

No no NO

Please not again

Fire. Fire everywhere. Smoke suffocates him. He’s running. From them. Them? Who are they? What’s going on? They’re chasing him. Chasing? Why? What’s happening?

Karito, where are they?

Karito- who is Karito? What is happening?

Karito, where am I?

They’re calling again.

‘Repent’

I will not.

Okay, I will.

Come at me

Leave me be, please

Karito, help

A bird, a black bird. Big and trailing shadows behind its body like a wave of ribbons are attached to it. It’s with me. Karito. You are Karito.

The bird opens its wings and engulfs Izunō. It is no longer hot. It is no longer suffocating.

Only darkness exists now

~~000~~

Izuku wakes up, body stiffened and dampened with sweat. He swallows, allowing himself to loosen and catch his breath before he sits up in his bed. There’s a knock at his door, and he mutters something- probably permission for the person to enter. His ears are still tuning into the world around him and his eyes are adjusting to the sunlight streaming through his window.

His room door opens and his mother is standing at the entrance with a wide smile on her face and a suitcase in her right hand. Upon seeing her son, her smile fades almost instantly, and transforms to a frown of worry. “Izuku? Are you okay?”

A shuddering breath escapes his lips. “Yes. I’m sorry, yes I am, I just- a scary dream, is all.”

“Oh, honey…” She places the suitcase against the door frame and makes her way over to his bed. She sits beside him, gently rubbing her hand around his back. Izuku silently prays she doesn’t feel how sweaty his shirt is. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really, no.” He wipes his damp palms across his pants. “Are you here to help me pack?”

Her smile returns, and she goes back to grab the suitcase. “I’ve already gotten the hotel booked for you and everything! Right down the street from campus. And I even heard that there might be other potential students there!”

Good, that’s kind of what he was hoping for. He needs to know who he’s going to be competing against to get into the school, and someone is likely to know what sort of exams they’re facing.

Izuku stands unsteadily to his feet, flapping his shirt to get some airflow around his now drying torso. “Hai, thank you mom.”

It doesn’t take them long to pack. Because he will be returning home after the exams, they only need so many clothes. He silently notes the lack of Nikasa’s presence once more, and as he and his mother set out to the western side of Japan, he doesn’t neglect to keep an eye out for her- or at least try to.

Shifu Hotel is where they arrive, and Izuku’s room is surely a sight for a city boy who’s been stuck in an apartment all his life. The bed is large, queen sized; and there’s a 20 inch tv on the wall at the foot of it. The wall across the room is completely made of glass- one giant window. Through it, he can not only see the entire city around him, but the campus to Shiketsu high as well.

And boy does it look intimidatingly big.

“Okaasan, how did you afford this?”

Inko giggles, “Izuku, I have money. Besides, there was a discount on this place. With all the aspiring heroes trying to get into the school, the hotel offered lower prices for people on the applicant list.”

From his left shoulder, an excited croak strikes his ear, and the raven that had found its way on the journey with him leaps from its perch and flutters around the room.

There were tears that streamed from Inkos eyes when she bid her son goodbye. “Izuku, the last time you left…”

“I will not make that mistake again.” He promises, sternly.

She nods hesitantly, and after a few more hugs and kisses, begins making her way back to their apartment while he settles into his room. Izuku was unsure of what to do with himself at that point. Now he sits here on his bed, staring at his hands while an animal flies around his room out of curiosity.

Nikasa, by what she was saying, is likely still somewhere in this room. Even if he can’t see her, she can see him, as well as hear him. “Hey, Nikasa. I know you’re here.”

No response, as expected. “Just know, I haven’t forgotten you. I’ll figure out how this works, and I’ll see you again.” He imagines, and hopes, that she is smiling.

He sighs as the large bird perches on the ground, pecking down at the tile floor. After a minute of investigation, it flutters up and above the tv, looking down on Izuku from its superior ground. The sight triggers something in Izuku’s mind. Before he’s aware, a word slips out from his lips, “Karito…”

A sheen of bright green light slithers across the raven’s eyes, and there is a sudden familiarity that Izuku feels between them. It croaks, and flaps its wings rapidly. It’s reacting, and urging him… perhaps to say it again? To use it in some way?

There is a knock on the door, before he can.

Izuku is pulled out of the trance he didn’t know he was in. “Hello?” He calls.

“Hello??” A feminine voice responds. “Hello neighbor!”

He blinks and glances back at the raven in confusion before standing to open the door. In front of him stands a light brunette girl, about two inches shorter than him with long lashes and very glistening lips-

Not that he was staring at her lips, they just stood out and he couldn’t have helped but to notice it- standing out isn’t a bad thing either, it can be a good thing and it is a good thing that her lips stand out- not for any personal preferences or-

“Hi! I’m Camie Utsushimi, but you can call me Utsushimi. I saw you move in here and wanted to come introduce myself!” She smiles. It's a very seductive smile. Izuku isn’t sure he likes it. “You’re here for the exams right?”

“I…” he swallows. “Yes, I am. Are you?”

“Of course.” She steps into his room. He doesn’t get the chance to stop her. “So what’s your quirk?”

“Uh… Necromancy.” He’s still holding the door. He really wants her out.

She pauses, spinning on her heels to face him. Her eyes lift and fall upon his figure, gears are turning in her head. “Do you, like… raise puppies from the dead?”

Huh? “Huh?”

“You don’t look like you deal with dark arts, love. That tattoo is the only thing saving you. Aren’t you a bit young-” A fluttering sound draws her attention. She gasps. “Oh my gosh! You have a pet crow?”

“Raven. Please don’t touch her.”

Utsushimi isn’t listening. She reaches up and gives the bird a stroke on the head with her finger. The bird hops down from the TV and comfortably rests on her extended arm. “She’s so cute! What’s her name?”

… He never named her. There’s a hesitation that leadsUtsushimi to glance up at him. “U-uh… Kari-to…”

“Hi Karito!” She squeals. “Such a creepy name for such a cute crow-”

“-raven.”

“Why would you name your bird ‘Reaper’?” She looks at him disappointedly.

“I… didn’t think…about it.” How did he not notice that? Reaper. This bird definitely is a part of his quirk. It’s certainly the one from the dream. Now the question is, what can she do? What is her purpose?

“Hm. Well,” She turns to face him, keeping Karito close to her chest. “I’m going to get some food with my friend, you should come. You’re with us now.”

“I’m good.” Izuku declines quietly. “I’m not really hungry.”

“When did you last eat?”

“Breakfast.”

“So six hours ago?”

“...I have a slow metabolism-”

Utsushimi pushes past him and marches out the room, not forgetting to grab his hand in the process. He feels himself being yanked out of the door frame, and the hand he had on the door knob pulls it shut. “W-wait! My key card!!”

“You can get another one!”

They arrive at a nearby restaurant, Ryu’s Ramen. They’re sitting at a table, awaiting Utsushimi’s other friend. Izuku feels uncomfortable. Not simply because of how quickly he got abducted by a strange and seductive girl, but because of the many eyes on him and Karito being in the room. Perhaps they should’ve found a pet friendly place.

There’s a flutter on Izuku’s shoulder, and he’s pulled out of his head. His attention is caught by a massive approaching figure. Before him is a man, definitely over six feet, with buzzed black hair and a smile painted over his face. He stands towering over their table, eyes locked on the poor greenette. “Wow! Another friend! Hi, I’m Inasa Yoarashi, what's your name? Cool tattoo!”

“U-um, Midoriya… Izuku…and thanks.”

“Don’t scare the guy.” Utsushimi frowns. “You’re being too much.”

As if she wasn’t? “I-it’s fine. I’m fine.” Izuku nervously assures her.

“Sorry!” Inasa laughs, “I can’t help but to get excited when meeting new people!”

He gives Inasa a small smile. “Oh, it’s nice to meet you then.”

“Yeah!”

…

Nothing really follows after that. Inasa seems cruelly comfortable with leaving them on that awkward note and taking a seat between the two school applicants, and he doesn’t hesitate to wave over a waiter and get his order ready.

Izuku decides to make a move and escape the silence that is apparently only ‘suffocating’ to him. “S-so uh, Cami-”

“Utsushimi.” She scolds.

“S-sorry. Uh, Utsushimi. You never told me what your quirk is.” He’s gripping on to the end of the table. Hopefully, they can’t see his knuckles turning white.

“Oh, I can create smoke with my mouth that forms illusions for a little while.”

“And I can manipulate the wind!” Inasa exclaims without request.

He’s so loud. “Thats, cool-”

“What can you do!?’ Inasa exclaims once more.

… “Necromancy.”

“Wow!”

…

“You don’t look like your quirk-” Utsushimi elbows her friend, interrupting his third brazen thought of the hour.

“Sorry about him.” She apologizes as a waiter arrives.

The three of them place their orders. As the waiter leaves to deliver them, Utsushimi leans onto her propped up arms, analyzing the greenette across from her. “So, what exactly can you do, Midoriya?”

“Quirk wise?” He clarifies. “Well um, necromantic…stuff… You’ll just have to see at the exams.”

She frowns at this. “What if there’s no combat at the exams?”

Inasa laughs, “There’s definitely going to be combat at the exams!”

“I agree,” Izuku smiles, “What else could they possibly want to examine besides our quirks?”

“Well, I heard that we’re going to be tested on our knowledge and mental skill during the exam; puzzles, mazes, and analytics.” Utsushimi raises her hand to greet the waiter who had arrived with their food. The meals are splayed across the table for them to eat. The waiter bows and turns to leave once his job is finished.

Inasa wastes no time digging into his plate of Okonomiyaki, while also wasting no time voicing more opinions, “putheth!? Matheth!? Analytith!!? How thothes thith make me a good hewo?”

“It makes you a good hero because sometimes, heroes need to figure out hard cases to find their enemy.” Izuku can barely answer his interpretation of Inasa’s question. “Can’t beat a villain you can’t find, can you?”

Inasa blesses the table by swallowing his mouthful and neglecting to take another bite before talking again. “That’s fair! But I heard there was going to be person versus person combat,” -he stabs at his plate again. Izuku prays he finishes before he bites it.- “and that’s what I’m most excited for!”

If that’s true, Izuku doesn’t want to end up against these two, especially Inasa. A wind quirk will be insanely powerful. There is a wide range of possibilities with such a vague ability; tornadoes, dust storms, tsunamis, flying, controlling the items around you- all are very probable with simple wind manipulation.

Utsushimi’s quirk might cause a mental lag for him. He will need time to find a teller for her illusions, and he will only have that time tomorrow when they are on the battlefield, IF they run across one another. She will lead him astray from whatever the goal of the exams will be. Which, now that he thinks about it, “What exactly is the purpose of all this, if either of you know?”

“I think it’s a point system, similar to UA exams. Maybe we need to gather or find something, and they’ll use us to be our own distractions.”

That’s an interesting idea. It certainly makes the exams a lot harder than UA. If he’s correct, UA had students fighting robots of certain points to determine their combat and evading abilities, while secretly examining other qualities for heroic evaluation. However, if most students have no opportunity to save or perform heroic tasks, then it makes that point system moot, and only useful for lucky students who find an opportunity, or might need the extra points. At least, that’s what he gathered from this year's students talking about it online.

Shiketsu is putting people against each other, but they aren’t likely going to forbid helping one another. This makes the opportunity for heroism a lot more likely, and the combat a lot more realistic. Not to mention, by adding an actual villain or goal, it reveals the student’s prioritization skills. Will they go for combat points, or mission points? Assuming that's how the system will work. It’s unlikely that the school will say this, as the students must have this basic comprehension to be worth the enrollment.

He has a lot to think about, and he’s excited to see what tomorrow has in store for him. He’s glad he didn’t tell either of them what his actual skills were, in case they ran into each other. He has time now to prepare for them, but they won’t know what to expect from him…

This is going to be fun.

They spend what seems like an hour and a half actually having pleasant conversation. They’re laughing and joking, telling stories and giving testimonies. Izuku learns that Utsushimi’s drive to be a hero is purely for the fun of it. She’s such a nonchalant person, yet so cheery and carefree. She even allowed him to call her Utsu as a nickname; and in turn, she wants to call him Izzy.

He denied.

But she wants nicknames really bad, so she agrees to being called Utsu anyway.

Inasa turns out to be a very good hero candidate. His passion for being a hero is unbelievable, and his love for passion in itself is admirable. He and Izuku hit it off really well because of this. Izuku’s passion for being a hero is also strong, and Utsu comments on how they both look like giggling school girls when they relate.

They comment on his appearance a lot. Utsu says his hair needs a bit of ‘reform’. That it’s too shaggy and unkempt. That he would be more “attractive” if he looked less like a ‘traumatized hell boy’ and more like a ‘sexy edgy boy’. Inasa calls him scrawny, and excites the idea of working out together. He doesn’t like this part of the conversation at all, and really doesn’t like how aware it has made him of his appearance.

Izuku releases his chopsticks into his now empty ramen bowl. Karito croaks happily from across the table where she received her own bread plate, courtesy of Utsushimi. “Well, this was nice, but it's getting real late and I want to get a nice workout before bed.”

He slides his chair away from the table and begins to stand, clicking his teeth to get Karito’s attention. The raven flutters over to him, perching herself on his left shoulder. He had barely noticed before, but she always perched herself above his tattooed arm. It still shocks him that he never considered her a product of his quirk, now that he sees all the signs.

The nightmares that he has had the past two nights clearly have importance. He wouldn’t have known what he assumes is the bird’s name if it weren’t. There’s a chance that he is going to have a third one. If he is, then he wants to be ready to try and interpret it this time. Especially if it can tell him more about Karito and his quirk. He needs to get to bed as soon as possible.

“Oh, wait!” Utsu stands, “Before you go, we should totally meet up before the exam tomorrow!”

Inasa agrees with a cheer, and Izuku shrugs. “Sure, why not.”

She smiles, “Great! I’ll even have a little gift planned for you if you get in!”

“Ha,” Izuku turns to make his way back to his room. “Then I’ll be waiting for it.”

As he exits the restaurant, he can’t help but to feel a wave of excitement pour over him. It seems like everything is working out just fine, and he really didn’t have anything to worry about. He might have already made some quick allies, possibly even friends. He has a decent understanding of what he can expect tomorrow, and knows what he’s going to be up against.

And if his eyes are not deceiving him, he notices a blinking of what looks like a feminine figure nearby. Nikasa seems to be coming back, though it is a lot later than what he expected. He can’t wait to spend the night with her and get himself ready for tomorrow.

This is going to be the beginning of something incredible.

And if he wants to be accepted

He’s going to bring as much darkness to that arena as possible.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: The Exams

No. Not you.

Why you?

Nikasa, along with multiple other deathly forms, rush at him. He can’t move. He can’t defend himself. Her face looks empty, yet distraught; As if she were some brainwashed zombie, who’s last moment of life was but a horrific experience. Izuku can only shut his eyes as her terrifying form reaches him, arms out wide and yearning to tear him apart.

When he opens them, he feels nothing. No pain, no tears or injuries. He finds himself in another place, another setting. There are no flames here, nor smoke. But he does notice himself standing on a path that breaks off into two, with one curving left into a place with familiar dead soil. The other curved right, where the grass became more luscious; more green. Down that road, he could sense peace. He could sense harmony. It pulled at him.

A chill runs down his spine. There’s a cold feeling on the back of his neck, and an anxious pit in his stomach. He tilts his head back, just slightly. His peripherals catch sight of a figure, a familiar ghostly figure. She was behind him. Just as terrifying as she was before. But this time, she doesn’t pounce.

Her hand twitches at her side, floating gently as she begins to point to the two paths. He can sense a longing, but also a fear. She doesn’t move, only points. Izuku looks back to the paths, unsure of exactly what she’s wanting for him to do. His confusion only riles her up, as she begins to release small groans and grunts in response to his silence. It stresses him out, brings his body to a sweat and his breath to a quickened pace. What does she want? Should he walk down one of them?

Her sounds get louder and more distressed. He looks back at her, his eyes pleading. “What? What do you want? What do you want from me?”

A sharp piercing cry erupts from her lips. Her mouth is disgustingly stretched open, ripping at the cheeks, tearing her face apart. Izuku’s hands come up to cover his ears. He falls to his knees, whispering pleas that she would stop.

But she gets louder. Louder and louder. His ears are on fire, and any second now, his eardrums might burst. His breath is near hyperventilation, and it feels as if she’s getting closer. Closer and closer.

Make it stop.

Please.

MAKE IT STOP

-eeeh eeeh eeeh eeeh eeeh.-

The alarm goes off, and Izuku is up. Like most of the nights, he is sweating, panting, and shaking. One would imagine he’d get used to these nightmares by now, but in truth; it seems like they’re only getting worse. How can he get used to something with a new challenge every time, a new puzzle. Typically these nightmares leave him a dry mouth and cold hands. He’d feel uncomfortable, and anxious. This time he felt… guilty. His stomach churned and ached with the immense amount of shame that suddenly came upon him in his wake. His mouth felt sour with bile. There was a hint of regret, as if there were something he should've done but hadn’t.

The appearance of Nikasa in his dream is even more of a disturbance. Her hostility was blatantly contradictory to what he has experienced with her. When he stood on that path, he felt as though there was a strong line between them, attaching them at the hip, but it had snapped. It felt like final moments; final moments that he hadn’t handled properly.

With a shuttered breath, he finally silences the alarm that has been ringing for some time, kicking himself off the bed to get ready for the day's events. This was the exam day, and he needed to lock in. He could spare no room for distractions and emotions. His only way to the U.A. was through this school. As he dresses in his typical white tee and black shorts, he gets a chance to look at himself in the mirror. Utsu is right… he really does look contrary to his own quirk. Something so dark and sinister was possessed by someone so… fluffy. Even though he has gained a significant amount of strength, his body hasn’t necessarily toned out quite yet. His clothes are so baggy it gives off the impression that he has absolutely nothing to work with. His curly hair is so messy and thick… actually, that’s not too bad. It makes him look just as tired and unkept as he actually is.

When he -and Karito- makes their way to the campus, Utsu and Inasa are waiting for him. Utsu has her hair up, and is wearing a tight top and skirt far too short to be professional. Inasa looks like he just got done working out, with his t-shirt clinging to his body and baggy sweats that barely look baggy around his thunderous thighs.

“Perfect! You’re here!” Inasa calls, “We have great news! Senpai is here today, and you’re going to meet him!”

“He’s just a homie.” Utsu clarifies, strolling up to meet Izuku a little more, her finger out to greet the bird companion. “But he said he only wants to meet you if you get in.”

“Oh. That’s fair. I guess. Or, rather pretentious.” Izuku shrugs. Some guy; he must be very self important to only value meeting other successors.

“Are you ready! I am so ready!” Inasa swiftly turns, marching forward through campus.

Izuku laughs, trailing behind him. “Yeah, I’m so ready.” The campus is enormous. There are buildings everywhere, fields for miles, and people scattered around them. It's like a city within a city, and far down from them is a building with a glass dome so large and reflective it's almost flinging the sun’s rays down at him. It’s the campus auditorium and stadium. It’s where they’ll be having their exam.

The inside surely does the exterior justice. It’s spacious, and Izuku doubts he could get from one end of the building to the next in any short amount of time. In the center of the room is a round stage, and the seats of the auditorium surround it, lining the walls. There are two floors of seating, and three entrances to the stadium. There is a fourth door, far larger than the others, and Izuku assumes it leads to the training area. A giant cube hovers over the stage, with speakers on every corner.

Izuku has done his research on this place, and this building is not only used to hold announcements and events, but to support hundreds of families on this end of Japan should anything ever occur.

Finding their seats was a hassle, but he is vibrating excitedly in his chair when the lights go out. One singular light remains on and it shines down upon the stage. There is a woman there, dark skinned and dressed in leather clothing. From leather boots to a leather jacket, and dark green baggy cargo pants. The back of her Jacket was embroidered with fiery red and gold letters that read: ‘Arson’. She wore a half-face gas mask, one with edges and crevices that beamed with a yellow and red hue every time she appeared to inhale. Her hair was very dark brown, and shaved into a fade at her sides with long locs pulled into a ponytail, and one singular loc dangling in front of her face. There was a slit in her left brow, and Izuku noticed her obnoxiously bright orange and golden eyes. If they weren’t glowing, he’d assume they were naturally hazel.

The woman observed the students from below. There were about 100 kids all waiting for something to happen. In the distance, another presence could be seen walking toward the stage to join her. Another woman, this time dirty blonde, giddily strides over to stand beside her companion. This woman has donned a white robe that cut off just before her mid thighs, where her high heeled, white boots began and almost met the hem of the clothing, leaving only a small gap of skin to be seen. Her robe got longer towards the back, where the tail dangled just at the back of her knees. Her robe and boots were lined with gold, matching a bright golden tiara that wrapped tightly around her head.

This woman wastes no time, and twirls with joy before addressing the crowd with an unseen mic, likely wrapped behind her ear. “Hello, everyone!”

Her voice is light, bright and cheery. “My name is Luna, but some of you may know me by the name of-”

Lumiere. One of the highest ranked heroes from Shiketsu. A hero from France, who’s worked in Japan for many years. Izuku inwardly slaps himself for not recognizing her in her uniform. She possesses the ability to control light. Pure light and radiance. She can blind her enemy if she wants to, or completely evaporate them. Thankfully she highly values kindness and love even to those who show the contrary. She would never harm someone more than she needs to.

Logically, Luna’s appearance would mean that the woman next to her is of equal standing, but Izuku hasn’t seen her before. The word ‘Arson’ however, does ring a bell. There are many heroes who prefer to work in the shadows. Some because their work tends to be a little too messy for the spotlight, others because they truly just can’t stand the press. Arson has been a name mentioned in the shadows before. There was a team operation between that name and Eraserhead, another famous hero in the dark. Arson was said to have a very ironic ability for someone who wanted to be hidden; fire. This would make sense, and if true, it is a perfect opportunity to learn more about this hero.

“I am one of the professors teaching here at Shiketsu High, and I am so excited to work with all of you.” Luna smiles a smile so bright, Izuku almost said that she was using her quirk. “And this grumpy mess to my right, Is Echo. Also known as the American Hero, Arson.”

Bingo.

Echo furrows her brows at the statement, lifting her head to the audience. “That’s all you need to know. Enough introduction. Let’s not waste anymore time. Today is exam day, and whether you fail or pass, you will be notified exactly two hours after the event ends. You will return to this hall at noon and we will show your results.”

“And without further-ado” -Luna throws her hands into the air, and sparkles of flight flutter around her. Echo flinches, agitatedly. The cube hanging over them flashes white, and an image of numbers and symbols pop onto the screen.- “Let’s go over the exam!”

“This Exam is geared to test student’s heroic abilities and philosophy. Each student is tasked with a rescue mission, and given their own hostage dummy to locate and deliver to the EVAC points outside the training area, which will earn you points. Once you exit the arena within the allotted hour and a half that you get, you have successfully completed your exam. Returns will not be allowed, and any damage to the hostage will deduct points.” Echo clicks to the next slide on the screen. It shows a picture of a robot. “Not saving your hostage does not imply failure. Instead, you will be evaluated by general points.”

Luna steps up. “You can, and will, be attacked by villain bots scattered around the map. Every bot destroyed are points that are earned. Examinees will also be allowed the opportunity to attack one another-” there are gasps and whispers at this. Many are concerned, while others are excited. “-and this will give you a chance to show your skills in a more realistic battle to the examiners.”

Izuku frowns. There’s no way they’re just allowing combat against one another for evaluation. When students come to this school, are they really expected to have great combat skills? There’s no way. They know that the majority are untrained in their abilities, and specifically have classes to change that. They certainly aren’t doing it just to see what their powers are, they can see that very well when going against the bots. This has to be some sort of trap, some sort of hidden method to see something deeper within the students. “It’s a scam,” he whispers to Utsu. “This must be a part of our ‘philosophical’ evaluation. Attacking another student is no benefit to saving our hostages.”

“Oh, word.” Utsu hums. “They must be testing whether or not we get this. By attacking one another, we are just being greedy and problematic to our allies, not to mention our own mission.”

“They’re smart.” Izuku smiles.

Inasa, overhearing the conversation, scoffs. “Who would actually risk hurting another potential hero for the sake of points that may or may not even be worth it?”

“A lot of people, unfortunately.” Izuku answers, drumming his eager fingers across his arm rest.

“Ultimately, you want to save your hostage, as it will have the most significant impact on your exam. But if you can’t, as I said, strive to get as many points as possible. Being brutally defeated, killing your hostage, or having too few points is an immediate termination.” Echo concludes. “You must have at least 50 points to pass. Anyone incapable of going on will be retrieved by our medics and likely terminated from the test.”

“Any questions?” Luna opens the floor up to the students.

One person raises their hand, standing to their feet. “Yes, you mentioned how to gain points, but exactly what are the points themselves?”

“That is not for you to know,” Echo answers. “All points will be unknown.”

“I believe we also failed to mention that there are hidden actions that equate to hidden points.” Luna adds on.

The students break out into gentle commotion once more. Echo quickly gathers their attention, “This is not UA High. We don’t care about your flashy quirks and obnoxious strengths. This is about whether or not you are an actual hero. There are too many con artists in this business, fake heroes. We want real ones. So we will test your mind and heart, just as much as your abilities… if not more.”

“Is there only one evacuation point?” Another voice from somewhere else.

“Correct.” Luna nods.

A girl nearby stands, “But that’s unfair! What if someone gets a location too far from the point?”

“Life isn’t fair, kid. Play smart and think like a hero on a time limit.” Echo scolds. “It won’t be so bad.”

Luna claps her hands together, “If there are no more questions students, please exit through the large door behind me and prepare for your exam. You will be given a uniform and a slip of paper on your way.”

As instructed, they receive their white and red exam uniforms and a slip of paper in which they are told not to open until they enter the arena. Additionally, each teen is given a watch to keep track of time. A volunteer staff makes their way through the crowd of students and approaches Izuku. “Sir, you aren’t allowed to have pets here.” He says pointing at the bird on his shoulder.

“She’s not a pet,” Izuku shakes his head, scratching Karito on the chest. “She’s a part of my quirk.”

“Sure she is.” The man steps closer, placing himself in the way of the Arena’s door. “Get rid of her. Now.”

Izuku huffs, turning around and shrugging his shoulder toward the nearest countertop. “Go on girl, I'll catch you after, okay?”

Karito shakes her feathers, inspecting the surface before fluttering over. She stomps around a bit, getting used to the feel before letting out a deep croak. Izuku smiles, turning back toward the door and shoving his way past the Volunteer.

The man scowls, muttering about ‘rude teenagers’ before looking back at the bird…

Which is now gone.

The Arena in which they’d all been bubbling in excitement to see, was far more than Izuku could ever imagine. It was as if they had left campus and entered the city. There were towers, lights, and bright signs everywhere. The streets were littered with cars and stationary civilian bots. Utsu, beside him, gasps in amazement. “Ok Shiketsu, go crazy, I guess.”

“They must have the utmost passion for their students to spend so much time and effort crafting this place!” Inasa is all but on his knees and in tears observing his surroundings.

Izuku can’t help but to silently agree. He’s seen the videos and pictures of UA online. Their exam area is incredible, but nothing this detailed.

Bzzt ~ ‘examinees, you may now look at your hostages location’ ~ Bzzt

A ruffling of papers. Teens gasp and murmur as they try to consider the information they’re receiving. Izuku looks at his own slip: ‘Building 1424 west on Giyu Street. Find Sanuke’s Fishery in the markets to find your target.’.

That’s good. The information was just enough for him to figure out how to navigate in these unfamiliar surroundings. Not too easy, where he could dead-reckon through the entire map, but not too hard where he’d be searching until his time ran out. He glanced over to his friend, both looking equally as focused on figuring out their slips. “You guys got this?” He asks.

Utsu looks up with an annoyed expression. “This is lame, but I’m all good.”

“We definitely got this!” Inasa smiles, giving them a thumbs up.

Bzzt ~Examinees! Let’s get ready to begin!~ Bzzt

Luna’s voice rings through the speakers. Immediately, the room comes to life, and civilian bots begin to move. Cars are driving and recorded city sounds are playing through each and every machine. They can actually hear developed conversations between bots, and pretend phone calls. Cars are playing music, and restaurants are steaming with smoke as if there’s actually cooking going on inside of it. Izuku can’t help but to gawk in awe.

There’s a countdown. Before he knows it, they’re all moving.

Utsu lets out a gasp as Izuku kicks off. He feels the wind resisting him harshly. His speed is certainly not average. Everyone around him without any sort of boost is left in his dust. His body feels light.

He’s repeating the address in his head as he’s rushing forward through what looks like the market. He’s scanning every booth and building, reading fast and accurately as he maneuvers through cars and civilian bots. As he comes up on a larger and thicker crowd of them, he opts to leap, pushing himself into the air and practically flying over all of them. He can see in the distance a wooden shack with a sign, ‘Giyu’s Fishery’.

He lands and progresses forward. Just as he readies himself to take a sharp left on the street before the building, he finds himself losing balance. He throws his head back, skidding on his heel as he fights to ground his other foot. He just barely manages to avoid a metal fist that flies in front of him.

Izuku reacts quickly, opting out of grounding his foot. Rather, he pulls his foot back, digging his other heel into the ground and spinning himself into a roundhouse kick. The bot’s momentum from its punch only makes the kick that much more impactful. It’s head recoils, and it snaps backwards onto its back.

With his adrenaline pumping, the teen stands there in shock. A small smile makes its way to his face as he realizes what he had done. It was almost robotic itself, his movements. He didn’t even think much about it. The time he spent with Shinō really paid off.

*click* *clack*

Izuku twists himself sideways, spinning out of the way just as a loud BANG sounds off behind him. He can hear the whizzing of a bullet flying past his head as his eyes come to meet that of another person. A boy his age and height, with brown messy hair and hazel eyes. In his hands was a bolt action rifle, far too dangerous for an exam like this. “Who are you?” He frowns.

There’s a metallic ring behind him, and looks back to face the sight of a bot that had been struck by the bullet used against him. He doesn’t let this keep his attention for long. He turns back to the boy, but unfortunately he is not there anymore. Izuku’s eyes scan his perimeter, nervous to continue on knowing that the boy was just nearby.

After a moment, he allows himself to relax, standing straight to his feet. This was a mistake.

Within only a second of him standing, he feels a painful pressure strike his face and finds himself being thrown to the side. He hits the ground with a thud. As he stumbles to get back to his feet, he feels a similar pressure hit his stomach. Before he knew it, he was rolling backwards on the hard gravel streets of the city. He would surely have scrapes and bruises from this. They could have, at the very least, not used real concrete and gravel.

This continues a few more times; Izuku tries to move, and then he is struck. It only takes a third hit for him to realize he was dealing with someone capable of invisibility. His mind is spinning trying to come up with ways to deal with this situation. Every thought is abruptly cut off by the strikes upon his body.

“O-okay!” Izuku groans. “Why are you doing this, what’s the point!?”

Nothing.

“You coward! At the very least give me a fair fight!”

A strike across the face. Izuku can taste metal.

“Are you that weak you have to rely on being invisible?”

Another strike, this time in the stomach. He can taste bile.

Think Izuku, think! Say something, anything to get him to speak.

“Shiketsu doesn’t need someone like this-”

Another strike, he can feel tears.

“You’ll never be a hero with a weakness like this!”

“Shut the hell up!” A reply, finally.

Izuku’s hand whips out, following the sound of the voice. He’s got something, and he doesn’t waste a second before pulling it forward and shifting his weight toward that side. His legs propel out, and he can feel his knee sink into something soft before the force of his strike drives it backward. There’s an audible ‘oof’ and groan, and had Izuku blinked, he would’ve missed the flicker of a brunette human image before it disappeared again.

Hurriedly, Izuku scrambles to his feet to take up a fighting stance. His body aches, and every breath he takes feels like his skin is too tight around his ribs. He can feel blood trickling from his head and mouth. There’s dirt in his eyes, and scrapes all over his limbs.

This pain, it's far more than Bakugou has ever inflicted on him- outside of the explosive burns, of course. It’s all over him, and the discomfort of it strikes a battle in his brain for attention, threatening to distract him from the enemy in front of him.

“You bastard!” the voice curses.

In any moment, the student could strike again; and he is not likely to fall for the same trick twice. Izuku needs to slow down, control himself, and take advantage of this opportunity. He has gone so long without a quirk, he almost forgot he has one now. He’s not the same weak kid he used to be. He can defend himself. He can take this guy on. The kid’s only ability is invisibility, as it seems. It would help him more to use his rifle from long distance while maintaining his hidden form; but for some reason he hasn’t.

When he got hit, he was revealed almost instantaneously upon impact with Izuku’s foot. Chances are, any abrupt force against him will be a disruption to his quirk. That being said, the recoil of his weapon probably won’t do him any justice. Another possibility could be that the weapon might actually kill Izuku, but he’d rather hold on to the hope that the professors here wouldn’t allow that to happen.

Regardless, this means that close combat is his opponent's greatest friend. Unfortunately, Izuku’s quirk is better with distance. The only thing he has for close range is his heightened natural abilities, which can still be pretty strong: but he has no weapons yet. Until he can acquire close range tools, he’s better off playing it safe. That’ll be hard when he can’t see his enemy get in close.

Unless…

Izuku takes a breath and closes his eyes. Maybe he doesn’t need to see him. It’s time to put his senses to the test.. They say that the blind have better hearing, and the deaf have better sight. The loss of one sense can strengthen another. He focuses on his ears, reducing the information via vision to his brain and increasing the information via hearing. A beat. A moment.

There it is.

It’s suddenly clear as day, what could’ve been missed so easily. A rhythm, consistent yet quick. Nervous. The heart of his enemy, healthy and strong. He can hear the electricity, the power of life, with every thump in the chest. Ironic, a reaper searching for life. Something about this sound, what it is, it calls to him. It feels natural. It feels as if his opponent's heart somehow belonged to him, and in a way it does. Is he not the god of death itself? This kid is ignorant. He doesn’t even know. He is quite literally playing with death.

Ba-dum

Izuku bends forward, allowing the kid’s arm to pass just over his head when he strikes. He throws out his own arm, elbow first, catching the boy in the stomach.

Ba-dum

He can see him, if only for a moment, and he doesn’t waste it. Reaching out, he grabs at the boy's throat, rearing his other hand back. He yanks the boy in close, bringing his fist in to meet his sternum. The kid’s mouth is wide, eyes bulging with pain. His hands grasp desperately at his chest as Izuku drops him to the ground. He writhes, drool pouring out of his mouth as he tries desperately to gather air into his lungs.

“Not very fun, is it?” Izuku scoffs. He rears his leg back before thrusting it forward into the young boy’s head. The brunette’s head snaps back before he falls to the ground limp.

There is life in him. He’s only unconscious. Izuku grabs underneath the boy's pits, pulling him up and dragging him to the nearest structure he could prop him on. Someone could easily land on him if he were just laying in the street, it’s the safest thing he could do.

This was an unfortunate interruption, one that will certainly have an impact on him for the rest of the trial. Nonetheless, he has to keep moving. He returns to his task, heading west toward wherever 1424 is. The good news is that every building has a number, so it won't be hard nor long to find the one he needs. He’s in the 16s right now, and every passing building is going by quickly. 1680, 1679, 1676…

The road leads into more open space, and it isn’t long before he is witnessing battles left and right. Students fighting students, and students fighting bots. He even finds himself putting in a few minutes of work to fight bots every now and then. He looks down at his watch. A good forty minutes or so must have passed by now, leaving him with less than an hour to retrieve his hostage and EVAC.

Izuku huffs as he lets the upper half of a mechanical body fall out of his hands. This is proving to be too difficult. With his quirk, stealth should have been his primary choice of maneuver. This is certainly a learning experience.

“Ugh!” A familiar feminine voice.

Izuku turns to investigate the noise. In what looks like a small park, a light brunette haired girl falls to the ground clutching her chest. Behind her stood another young female, with short black pigtails. He knew the girl on the ground; Utsushimi. She looked helpless and frustrated, covered in dirt and sweat while crawling away from her antagonizer. The scene was disturbing to say the least; and maybe it was because of his very recent connection to her that he felt a pull to help. It could have been genuine foolishness, or too much empathy.

Maybe he was still weak internally, incapable of staying focused on the mission ahead of him. There was little benefit in him helping her. He’d be wasting time, losing points, and teetering on the fine line of success and failure. He should run. He should keep going. There’s only about 37 minutes left in this competition, and this battle can go on for God knows how long…

He should go

At least that’s what his mind was telling him. But it didn’t matter all that much anymore. His body has already reacted on behalf of him, legs working overtime to get him in just enough range to throw up an attack. He learned from his last battle, close range is not his strong suit just yet. Thinking back to Kosei Shin, he remembers all the training and what his power really felt like when he used it; the warm and foggy energy that flows through his veins. It’s a similar feeling to wind, like a hurricane rushing through him.

He makes it to the edge of the park, just hitting the curb when that feeling strikes his body again, for the first time since the beach. It fuels him, and fills him until it no longer can. He barely hits the grass before it explodes, bursting around him. A shockwave of pure force and energy surges on in all directions. Cars flip over and villain bots stumble backward. Alarms go off and any student in a 40 ft radius is now on their butts, looking around in confusion.

The girl in front of him finds herself in the same predicament; having flown backwards and rolled away from Utsushimi. Izuku squats in front of Utsu, reaching out and helping her to her feet as their antagonizer collects herself.

“Are you okay?” He asks her.

“I’m alright,” She smirks. She’s in pain.

“Who the hell are you?”

Izuku’s eyes meet the golden ones of the girl from earlier. She looks very frail up close, like a literal bag of bones. Her face is so skinny it’s almost triangular. There’s anger written on her face as she stalks forward. “You would have been better off minding your own business.”

“And let you terrorize her? No thank you.” He clutches Utsu close.

“What a hero.” The girl laughs.

“Isn’t that what we are here to be? You think the way you’re acting is what the school wants?”

“They gave me the option, didn't they?” She steps closer. “Listen, I don’t mind dealing with you too. But at least let me finish her off-”

“She’s clearly finished!”

“I’m not leaving her alone until she’s carried out of here by the medics.” She spits, getting closer.

“So you want to kill her!?”

“No, idiot.” she stops progressing, now only a few feet away from him. “I want her completely out of the picture. No finished exam means no entry to the school.”

His brows are furrowed, disgusted by her hunger for needless violence. It couldn’t possibly help this girl at all! She’s losing out on her main points for the sake of manually disqualifying contenders. If anything, she’s hurting herself almost just as much as her victims. “You won’t pass this way!”

“Says who? You heard ‘em. Points for combat-”

“Against the bots, genius! Not other people!”

“Izuku!” Utus hisses, “Let’s just get out of here.”

He frowns. This girl shouldn’t just be able to get away with abusing her quirk for fun.

“I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere.” The girl hisses. Her image shifts again. Something isn’t right. “Like I said, I can’t risk it, and I’m n-ot t-king annny chansssssessss.”

His blood runs cold. His grip on Utsu gets even tighter. He doesn’t have much time to react before the image in front of him sets into a hectic motion. This girl was no longer human; rather, a large and demonic looking black serpent with fangs so large and eyes of gold. The horrific sight of this creature brought shivers to Izuku’s spine.

He reacts fast, diving to the side as its giant head strikes the ground where he sat. Utsu’s body follows, but as he lets go, she rolls off a little ways from him. He channels his power again, Hell’s breath, throwing his arm forward and sending her flying backwards away from where he was prone. “Go!” He yells, flinging himself sideways again to avoid the next attack.

Utsu doesn’t waste a second, and Izuku almost finds peace in her lack of hesitance. Unfortunately, he realizes her urgency is misplaced, and she tries to force pink mist out of her body. She wants to help, trying desperately to create another illusion. Instead, her power sputters, and she drops to one knee with a grunt.

Izuku growls as the serpent turns its attention to Utsu, and just as it decides to finish her off, Izuku leaps, grabbing onto the back of what he believes to be its neck. The serpent hisses, responding to his attack by increasing her speed of movements, making abrupt and sudden turns and twists. Izuku clutches tightly at her body. There’s not much he can do against a creature like this. It’s another up-close battle that he isn’t prepared for.

There’s an unexpected pause of movement, and Izuku barely notices the wind changing from hitting his face to striking his back. Right before the serpent slams its back on the ground to squish him, he closes his eyes and calls upon his quirk once more. There’s a loud crash, and the serpent moves again, twisting around the ground where she struck and inspecting the site to spot his body. There’s a hiss of surprise when she notices he isn’t there. She looks around, forked-tongue flickering in the air to catch his scent.

Before she can detect him, he’s flying toward her at a rapid speed, and his fist comes into contact with her face. Her head whips back at the contact, and Izuku lands a few feet away, near her tail. She attempts to counter him by slamming her tail onto him, but he disappears into a cloud of dark matter, only to reappear right in front of her face, fist ready to strike. She has little time before it connects with her face again.

Izuku rolls off again. There’s a strange feeling within him. A pit that’s filling. Almost like a bubbling inside of him. It gets stronger after every use of Reaper’s step. It makes him feel… angry. No. Empty? He can’t tell, and now’s not the time to try.

What does matter is how much stronger it also makes him feel. The sheer amount of determination and hunger that has grown within him in the past few moments is intoxicating. It’s almost animalistic. Beforehand, he had wanted to avoid fighting.

But now?

He wouldn’t mind continuing this battle. He’s kind of enjoying it. The feeling of the serpent's slick and moist skin making contact with his knuckles, the sight of the small bruises and cuts on her body makes his chest tickle with pride. He did that.

Every strike, he blinks away. He uses his Hell’s breath to increase the impact of his punches, breaking skin more and more, drawing blood. The serpent’s movements slow, and her reflexes become less quick. Izuku manages to get on her back again. He pulls back his elbow and forces it downard using Hell’s breath, striking her in the head. She let’s out a painful squeal, hissing as she tries to shake him off. But she’s no longer fast, and she’s no longer strong. He does it again, she cries.

Again.

She cries.

Her cries are weakening.

He does it again.

And again.

He wants to keep going.

He doesn’t want to stop.

Not until she falls.

Not until she’s gone.

Not until she’s d-

‘I warned you about the overuse.’

Izuku pauses. Shinō?

‘You’re overdoing it, Izuku. Although, I have no general complaints.’

Didn’t he mention that it would be hard, if not impossible for them to communicate outside of Keisho shin?

‘Hard, but not impossible. You’re getting pretty riled up from the overuse of your quirk. Which means I’m becoming… easier to hear.’

“Get out of my head, Shinō.” This was his body, and his reality.

‘This is a centered relationship, remember? I do as I please boy. You opened the gate, and I entered.’ He laughs mockingly

“What do you want?” Izuku clutches on tightly as the serpent gives a sudden desperate jerk.

“To warn you, and only once.” He’s gone serious. “Keep this up, and you’ll be fighting a lot more than a serpent. Likely the entire school.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What would be the fun in telling you all of that? You’re just going to have to learn to trust me.”

“Trust you… as if you didn’t establish yourself as an enemy the last time we talked.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t need me, and doesn’t mean I don’t need you. We need eachother.”

A heavy and deep croak echoes through the skies. Izuku looks up and gives a smirk when he sees those dear black feathers. Karito. “Good, girl.”

“Took you long enough to acknowledge the poor girl. Take the opportunity to use her more, instead of your quirk.”

“Use her-” Another jolt. Man, she’s still fighting. Most people would have given up by now. Her tenacity is admirable. “How, exactly? What are you- ugh- What are you talking about.”

“I gave her to you for a reason. She’s an extension of your quirk, Izuku. Her body is your body, her eyes are your eyes, and her thoughts are your thoughts. Figure it out. You’re a smart kid.”

“I really can’t use anymore of my abilities? How am I supposed to fight?”

“My strength, as one of the strongest of my kind, was in my cunning and my wits. You already have potential in that.”

Jolt. Whip. Buck. This conversation couldn’t have come at a less stressful time? His fingers are getting tired. “How does that help me physically?”

“Because, physically, you’re agile. You’ve been seeing your powers as a ranged quirk, which can be true. But you can be just as effective up close. If you give yourself the chance, you’d see that there truly is little weakness in your abilities.”

That could be said about anybody’s quirk. If you create enough gadgets and build enough armor, there would be little flaw in your capability. Ironic, actually. At the end of the day, behind all that, you’re no stronger than you were before. Your weakness is just a little better at hiding. How much longer before it’s found?

Izuku feels a strange wave of calm come over him, and his body feels a lot heavier. It’s like the adrenaline he was fueled with is leaving his body all at once.

“You seem to be calming down from that power high you had, which means you won’t hear me much anymore.” He’s right. His voice is fading.

“You say that like you enjoy talking to me.” Izuku chuffs. “Besides, according to you, I’m likely to hear from you again if I keep this up.”

“Dont.” The spirit grumbles. “Tread lightly, boy. At least until you get settled into your new life.”

Izuku groaned, frustrated. “Yeah, sure. Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t thank me, boy. Like you said, I’m not an ally.”

It goes silent after that. Izuku sighs, hands twitching as he still holds on to the back of the serpent’s neck.

What was…

What was he doing?

Why was he still fighting? Hadn’t he won a while ago? What purpose does this violence serve? He looks down at the serpent, and his heart sinks a little. Her face and neck are bloody, there are bruises everywhere, and her eyes flickered back and forth, struggling to settle on any given point. A sign of a concussion. In this shock, Izuku’s grip lessens, and she feels it. She throws him off, and he finds himself rolling down her back. He lands in the dirt and the wind flies out of his lungs.

There’s a strange flesh-like sound, but he doesn’t get to see what it is. All he knows is that the serpent is once more the girl, and her face is bloodied. She falls to her knees and hands. She’s crying. He did that. That’s his fault. What’s wrong with him?

“Izuku!” Utsu is running towards him. She grabs onto him and pulls him up. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine.” He chokes, trying not to cry himself.

“What was that? You were so tough. Was she even fighting back? ”

“I…” What can he say? That he let an unnatural lust for blood take over? How soon before he loses one of the only friends he has with that information freely given? “I couldn’t tell- She was trying to jolt me off- I was just trying to- I didn’t- I-”

Utsu grabs his hand, “it’s cool, it’s cool. She’s still kickin’. Medics will be here soon to get her.”

He sniffles. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine-”

*Bzzt* Examinees, you have ten minutes left. *Bzzt*

Izuku rips his hand from Utsu’s, running it through his curls. “Crap! The hostage!”

“We still got time!” Utsu laughs, wincing and clutching her side when she does. “Mine’s in that building just behind you.”

Izuku turns, eyeing a large hotel building at the end of the street in which he had originally been running down. He frowns. “Mine is uh, I think down the street from here.”

“Do we know where the EVAC is?”

Izuku shakes his head. “I don’t, at least.”

Another croak from the skies. He looks up, watching as Karito circles around above him.

‘Her eyes are your eyes.’ Izuku thinks back to Shinō’s words as he watches her. Maybe… He closes his eyes, slowing his breath and allowing himself to focus. ‘Come on, girl. Show me something. Anything.’

He can no longer hear Utsu’s breathing, or busy streets, or the sobbing of the serpent girl. There’s only his breath, and his consciousness. All remains black for a moment. Then it hits him. There’s a croak in the distance, and a flickering behind his lids. Like a green light. He opens his eyes, and everything is different. He can see the ground, the vehicles, and the bots. He can see the park and the hotel. He can see Utsu, the serpent girl, the medics arriving in the distance- and himself.

He sees everything from a bird’s eye view. A raven's view. Karito’s view.

Just down the street from the hotel is the building, and just north of there is the evac point. He might be able to make it on time. “I found it.”

“Whoa, your eyes… they went all green suddenly. Is that a part of your quirk?” When his vision returns, Utsu is directly in front of his face.

“Uh- yes.” He stutters. He turns, motioning for her to follow. “We might be able to make it. How many points do you have?”

“Not a lot, dude. I barely got to take out any bots before she started hunting me down.”

“Well, then the only way you’re going to get in is by getting your hostage.” He sighs. “Can you run?”

“Not fast-”

He grabs her wrist, yanking her forward and slinging her over his back. She gasps in surprise, instinctively clutching tight to his shoulders and waist. “I can.”

“Whoa there, Izzy.” She laughs. “Is this your way of asking me out?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. “ He pushes his heel off the ground, bursting forward with immense speed. They probably have no more than seven minutes left. He doesn’t take more than one to get to the hotel. “What room?”

“Apartment 3C; floor 3 room C.”

He leaps from staircase to staircase, eyes scanning for the right door. When it’s found, he drops Utsu to her feet and kicks the door open, knocking it off its hinges. He’s already anticipating issues by the time the door hits the floor. His bruised fist comes forward and rips a hole through the bot that was in the room. “Go get your bot.” He tells Utsu.

She does so with little words, rushing in and searching room by room. The fourth time she’s within his line of sight, there's a childlike bot in her arms, wrapped in rope. “Got it!”

“Great! We’ve got maybe four minutes left. Get to the exit!” He yells, rushing out of the building. He’s down the street in no time, pushing into a small yellow home. ‘1424’ says the front green door. Izuku bursts into the house, but there are no bots when he enters the main room. None when he goes through the kitchen or the bedrooms. No hostage either. He grows frustrated, and his movements become more panicked. There’s a second floor. No one. When he returns downstairs he does so with a stressed yell. Where could it be?

A Croak.

Izuku looks left and notices Karito standing in front of a door, as yellow as the walls around him. He must’ve not noticed it in his rush, it certainly wasn’t standing out. He opens the door. It's a basement. There’s a small movement of light down there. He runs down, and surely it’s there. A bot, tied to a chair. He breaks the ropes and shoulders it, carrying it back up the stairs and out the door.

He’s got it. He can make it. Just one minute is all it will take and then-

*Examinees. The exam is now over. I repeat, the exam is now over. Please make your way to the evacuation point.*

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Shadows and Starlight

“Someone like him—his focus and tenacity are impeccable!”

“It certainly is,” a sharp voice cuts in, dripping with faint disdain, “though not in the ways I suspect you’re implying.”

“I disagree,” another voice chimes in, steady and brimming with conviction. “Ms. Dubois' vision for these students is rarely misplaced. This boy, Midoriya, sacrifices his mission to protect his classmates, ensuring their safety and success.”

“And that’s supposed to be inherently good?” a scoff follows, tinged with derision. “This is exactly what’s wrong with the Radiant Society. Your idealism is naïve. Actions like his endanger missions. If those had been real civilians—”

“That’s why we’re here.” The interjection is cool and measured. “To refine those rough edges, to develop these candidates into heroes worthy of their calling.”

“Perhaps, but this quirk of his seems better suited to The Phantom Order,” another voice muses, calculating. “If it’s his personality you’re keen to exploit, we might even consider him for The Black Mantle.”

“Exploit?” the conviction returns, now bristling with irritation. “This isn’t about glory or personal gain. It’s about maintaining peace in Japan!”

“Peace?” A sharp laugh echoes. “Spare me. Peace requires the eradication of conflict, not an endless parade of heroes chasing the spotlight—”

“Conflict is inevitable,” another voice counters, rising above the others.

“Enough!” A commanding voice cuts through the growing argument. The room falls silent.

“Midoriya Izuku is not some pawn to be passed around. The Hero Identity Forge and The Duality Project exist to prevent such divisions. Save your bickering for another time. And as for you all, conduct yourselves appropriately in the presence of our students.”

~~000~~

Izuku stretches his arms over his head, groaning as the stiffness from earlier fades. The pain from the fight vanishes—his ribs no longer ache from the invisible boy’s attack, nor does he feel the scrapes and bruises from his clash with the serpent girl. His body heals itself before he even reaches the nurse’s office.

Apparently, he isn’t the only one. Utsu practically skips over to him, squealing about her injuries vanishing. When he asks if she has any healing capability in her quirk, she shakes her head and points at Karito, the raven perched serenely on her shoulder.

“I think it was her!” Utsu says, giggling. “She sat on me, and I felt sooo much better.”

And that’s how Izuku discovers Karito’s ability to heal. Astonishing. They share senses, they share healing—what else can she do? The moment he gets a chance, he plans to sit down and explore their connection. This could be a turning point in his development as a hero.

If it even matters anymore.

He hasn’t completed his mission. For all he knows, he’ll be sent home, having failed again. He can already hear Bakugou laughing, mocking him for trying. Twice now, he’s reached for his dream and fallen short. Maybe it’s time to stop. Why wait for the humiliation of seeing the results? Why not leave now?

Yet here he is, sitting in the same auditorium as before. Only now, instead of squirming with excitement, he fidgets with dread. He should’ve never been distracted from his main goal. He should’ve kept going, no matter what.

But that wouldn’t have been right. To leave someone, his new friend, to be hurt beyond reason. Can he really say he regrets that? A nudge breaks his spiraling thoughts.

“It’s time!” Utsu fist-pumps the air, shaking his shoulder. “Can you believe it, Izzy? We made it!”

“We don’t know that yet,” Izuku mutters, his stomach twisting.

“Sure we do,” she insists. “Inasa finished in twenty minutes, I got mine in the nick of time, and you…”

He doesn’t meet her eyes.

“Oh.” She sags. “I… never mind. But I’m sure you got it! You were amazing in that fight. That has to count for something.”

“I doubt it,” Izuku says flatly.

Utsu hesitates, as if wanting to say more but holding back. Before she can decide, a shadow looms over them. Izuku turns to see Inasa grinning down at them.

“Friends! I’m back, and I’ve found sensei!”

“Sensei?” Izuku frowns. Utsu makes an exasperated sound behind him, as Inasa lowers into his seat, revealing a boy standing behind him. The newcomer has purple hair with bangs covering half his face, his expression impassive but his eyes sharp.

“Utsushimi,” the boy says, “did you pass?”

“Well, what's up to you too, Sir Frown-a-Lot,” Utsu retorts, crossing her arms. “Yeah, I passed. What of it?”

“Good,” he replies. “I expected your ignorance to hinder you. I’m glad to see you rose above it.”

Utsu lights up. “Actually, Shishikura, I almost didn’t! Izzy here saved my butt. I thought I was cooked, low-key.”

For the first time, Shishikura’s sharp eyes shift directly to Izuku. The weight of his scrutiny makes Izuku’s skin crawl, as if he’s being dissected under a microscope.

“You did that?” Shishikura asks, his tone clipped and distant.

“I… I did,” Izuku admits, his voice faltering slightly under the pressure.

Shishikura’s frown deepens, his expression hardening into something even colder. “You shouldn’t have. Utsushimi needs to earn her place, not have it handed to her.”

Utsushimi waves it off with a light laugh, as if Shishikura’s words are nothing more than a minor annoyance. But Izuku’s face falls, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

“Wait,” Izuku snaps, standing abruptly. “Shouldn’t you want your friend to succeed?”

Shishikura’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Not at the expense of fairness. She must succeed on her own merit.”

“It’s not cheating to help each other!” Izuku’s voice rises, his fists clenching at his sides. “She was targeted unfairly. Was I supposed to just stand there and watch?”

“Exactly.” Shishikura’s calm, almost robotic tone only fuels Izuku’s anger. “A true hero adapts. She must learn to use her quirk effectively. Your interference only weakens her.”

“Izzy, it’s fine!” Utsu tugs at his arm, her voice urgent but soothing. “It’s all good. It ain’t that deep!”

But Izuku can’t let it go. His fists tighten, and his knuckles turn white as whispers begin to snake through the room. The sound crawls into his ears, faint but insistent, filling the air with an unnatural chill. Shadows at the edges of his vision flicker and shift.

To beat down on his friend like that—to disrespect her in front of everyone—this guy…

Croak.

Shishikura narrows his eyes. “What about you, Izzy—”

“Don’t call me that,” Izuku growls, his voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury.

“—Did you make it?”

Shishikura’s eyes remain locked on Izuku, watching intently as hesitation flashes across his face. A small, satisfied scoff escapes Shishikura after a moment of silence. “Figures. Now look where you are. You help others but can’t even help yourself.”

Croak.

“You’re clearly not ready,” Shishikura continues, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re reckless and unfit to embody Shiketsu’s motto: Dignity and Obligation. You lack one, and you ignore the other.”

The room falls into an eerie silence, and Izuku becomes acutely aware of the stares and whispers around him. People might be talking about him, judging him, but his usual embarrassment doesn’t surface. Instead, frustration and irritation take hold.

The whispers grow louder, sharper. The air feels icy against his skin, and the lights in the auditorium flicker faintly. He struggles to make sense of the voices around him, the scattered words that begin to take form: dead… release… take…

The chill deepens, and the flickering lights intensify. Then, he realizes it isn’t his classmates speaking.

These voices are closer. Personal. They aren’t talking about him—they’re talking to him.

Take him. Release the dead.

A shiver races down Izuku’s spine as his peripheral vision fills with flickering shapes. Glitching figures, some grotesque and disfigured, appear and vanish at the edges of the room. They grow more defined, more chilling. One figure stands out among them: a woman with long, matted hair and a torn gown. Her hollow, unblinking eyes are locked onto him. Nikasa.

Croak.

Karito’s sound cuts through the haze, pulling Izuku back. He blinks rapidly as his vision clears. Utsu is shaking him gently, her face filled with worry. Inasa now stands between him and Shishikura, his broad frame tense. Shishikura’s rigid posture betrays a flicker of unease, his sharp demeanor momentarily softened by uncertainty.

“Izzy, what’s with the black smoke? And why are you so cold?” Utsu’s voice is filled with concern.

Izuku stares at his hands. Wisps of black, smoke-like energy dissipate slowly from his fingertips. “I… don’t know.”

Shishikura sneers, masking his unease with a raised chin. “Interesting,” he mutters, before stepping back into the shadows of the aisle.

Before Izuku can respond, the lights cut out, and Luna’s cheery voice fills the room. “Hello, everyone! Please take your seats!”

Utsu gasps. The mood completely shifts. “I’m totally in love with her,” she whispers as they sit.

“Surprising.” Izuku says, wincingly. He pretends that he doesn’t notice Shishikura’s eyes piercing into his head.

“Ladies and gentlemen! I am excited to share with you the results of today’s exam!” Luna smiles brightly at the crowd.

Behind her, Echo also makes her way to the stage. “For those of you who do not make it, please make sure to contact your parents so that you may be retrieved swiftly.”

A throat clears, and a pale elbow makes its way into Echo’s ribs.

“...and safely.” she finishes, grudgingly.

The results appear on the screen. Izuku doesn’t dare hope… but there it is.

Midoriya, Izuku – PASS

He makes it. Third place, and a whopping 80 points. Relief and disbelief wash over him. How? Why?

“For those of you who passed, we informed you earlier that your best bet would be to successfully save your hostage. That was an automatic pass,” Echo states plainly. “In addition, we told you there were many other ways to gain points, including some secret methods you were not informed about.”

Luna steps forward, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “This brings us to a select few students who passed—not because they completed the mission, but because they didn’t. Yet, they racked up enough points outside of it to pass the exam anyway! This is an incredibly hard task. On average, only seven percent of students manage to achieve this. Out of one hundred and twenty-three of you, fifty-three passed, and six of you did it without saving your hostage.”

She pauses, letting the murmurs settle before continuing, “Out of those six, we would like to recognize one in particular.” Luna’s tone sharpens, heightening the anticipation. “One person who passed with scores so high they placed in the top five—among those who completed their missions and earned additional points for action.”

Echo takes over, her voice brisk. “He scored the highest of all six examinees in this category. Midoriya, Izuku.”

The air in the room grows heavy as Izuku’s name echoes across the auditorium. He feels three sets of eyes burn into him: one pair glaring daggers, while the other two radiate affection and excitement.

“Midoriya Izuku did not rescue the hostage,” Echo explains. “Instead, he defeated multiple bots, successfully defended himself against human attacks, saved his comrade, and helped her deliver her bot instead of his own. These actions place him above most examinees, many of whom barely surpassed the 50-point minimum.”

“That’s not right!” someone shouts from the crowd, breaking the tension. The outburst ignites a wave of commotion. “I know for a fact I took out at least five bots and rescued my target! I should definitely rank higher than him!”

Echo’s gaze snaps to the speaker, her tone sharp as steel. “You also made several choices that deducted points from your score. This is why it’s uncommon for students to achieve anything higher than a 65. Every action has consequences, some of which you were not aware of. We told you there were hidden factors affecting your points.”

The chastened examinee sits down with a huff, and the auditorium quiets.

“That being said,” Luna continues, her voice softening, “we’d like to address a final point. During this test, a select group of you demonstrated extraordinary heroic philosophies and actions. We noticed these qualities, and we want to nurture them.”

She smiles warmly. “You will learn more about this program the day before classes begin. For now, understand that those chosen will be enrolled in the ‘Heroic Identity Forge.’ This program includes specialized tasks, classes, and expectations designed to help you refine your heroic style and explore unique opportunities within the school. You’ll know if you’ve been selected when you receive your schedules.”

The room buzzes again with whispers of speculation and envy. Izuku glances around, noticing the excitement on some faces and the tension on others. Figures. Most seem more concerned about potential perks than personal growth. Izuku’s thoughts drift instead to how this program might shape him into a better hero.

Echo claps her hands together, sending sparks and embers into the air. “That’s enough. For those of you who passed, take the next three days to prepare for move-in and orientation. For those who didn’t, we ask that you contact your guardians to arrange your return home.”

“We truly hope to see many of you again,” Luna chimes in, her voice as bright as ever. “We’re thrilled for the upcoming year and eager to welcome any returning examinees next year!” She leans playfully against Echo, whose expression remains as stiff as her posture.

~~000~~

“I can’t wait to chill with you again, Izzy!” Utsu laughs, clinging to his arm. “And don’t forget, I promised to get you a gift if you made it. Don’t sweat it; it’s my treat.”

Izuku chuckles. “I can most definitely wait.”

Utsu rolls her eyes, giving him a playful punch in the side. Before Izuku can respond, he feels a heavier impact on his back that knocks the wind out of him. He glances up, spotting Inasa beaming down at him.

“Congratulations, Midoriya! You’re truly a man of passion, putting your morals above your mission!” Inasa exclaims, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

“Thanks, Yoarashi—”

“Inasa! You call me Inasa!”

“Enough, Yoarashi,” Shishikura scolds, his tone dripping with disapproval. “There’s nothing commendable about a hero who prioritizes feelings over objectives.”

“Uh-oh. Sorry, Senpai.” Inasa’s exaggerated salute only adds to the sarcasm in his apology. Izuku suppresses a smile, his irritation momentarily eased by Inasa’s antics.

Izuku frowns at Shishikura, his tone clipped. “Last I checked, I was praised for what I did in front of over a hundred people.”

“Even great schools make mistakes,” Shishikura replies, his words cutting like ice.

Croak.

Izuku takes a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. Anger is not his ally. Whatever that dark surge was earlier, he can’t afford to let it surface again. He needs to get his quirk under control—and his emotions with it.

Instead of snapping back, he decides to smile. “You know what, Seji?” he says, his voice deceptively light. For the second time, he sees a crack in Shishikura’s stoic mask. Annoyance. “I look forward to seeing you again. I hope we end up in the same class.”

It isn’t a lie, but it isn’t entirely true either. Izuku would be thrilled to never see this guy again. If Shishikura didn’t show up to school or decided to move to another city, Izuku wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep. But what he does look forward to is shutting this arrogant jerk up for good. He didn’t endure Bakugou’s torment all those years just to find another bully waiting for him here.

As the tension simmers, Izuku clenches his fists briefly before relaxing them, the corners of his mouth still curved in that forced, almost too-pleasant smile. One way or another, he’ll show Shishikura exactly what he’s capable of—without losing control of himself again.

~~000~~

After extending his stay at the hotel for another three nights, Izuku lies on his bed, staring aimlessly at the popcorn ceiling. His plans had always hinged on passing the exam, so the thought of returning home hadn’t even crossed his mind. Outside of when he almost failed, that is. Now, with the move-in date still days away, he’s left in limbo. Utsu has gone home to celebrate, and Inasa is staying with his cousin in the city. As the sun dips lower on the horizon, streaking the sky with fiery hues, Izuku realizes he has only so much time left in the day—time to figure things out.

Sitting up, he turns his attention to the large raven perched across the room. “Okay, let’s try again,” he says, his voice a mix of determination and weariness. “Talk to me.”

The bird tilts its head, black eyes glinting with curiosity but offering no response.

“I know you can talk,” Izuku presses. “You’re a raven. You’re supposed to be able to mimic speech, right? Can you tell me anything about yourself?”

Croak.

Izuku sighs, rubbing his eyes. “No, that’s not…” He stops himself, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “If you won’t talk, can you at least give me a sign?”

Karito flutters her wings briefly, her tail twitching. It’s something, but not nearly enough.

With a groan, Izuku flops back onto the bed, his arm draped over his face. The minutes tick by in silence, the room growing dimmer as the sunset fades. At the very least, his time spent with the raven hasn’t been entirely fruitless. He’s become attuned to something else—a presence, faint and elusive, but undeniably there. A cold, strange familiarity lingers in the air.

“There you are,” he murmurs, his gaze shifting toward the door.

Matted pale hair. Blank eyes.

Nikasa stands there, her spectral form bathed in the dim orange glow of the setting sun. Izuku smiles sadly. “Something tells me I don’t have much time.”

Nikasa’s expression remains as vacant as ever, her voice soft and hollow. “You made it into Shiketsu. Congratulations. Really.”

"Thank you."

“I saw you today,” she says, her voice almost a whisper. “In the auditorium.”

“I saw you too,” Izuku replies, "Under… unfortunate circumstances" the weight of his words hang in the air.

“I wasn’t the only one you saw,” Nikasa hums. “There were others.”

“You saw them too?” Izuku sits up slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion.

She nods slowly. “Yes. It was strange. I wanted to feel happy—I’ve been alone for so long. But all I could feel was anger. Your anger.”

“Mine?” Izuku’s voice tightens, his confusion deepening.

“Yes,” she says simply. “You were so angry; I wanted to do something about it.”

“Like what?”

Nikasa’s gaze intensifies. “Whatever you wanted to do.”

Izuku stiffens. The idea sends a chill down his spine. His emotions already have too much influence over his quirk, but to think they could control someone else… it’s unsettling.

“Izuku,” Nikasa continues, her tone almost mournful. “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with me?”

The question lingers, heavy and unanswered. Izuku exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Nikasa’s lips curl into a faint, wistful smile. “You can’t,” she says softly. “I don’t think you have any more time.”

Izuku’s heart sinks. He knows she’s right. Somehow, he can feel it—this conversation, this fleeting connection, is the last they’ll share. “What happens then? Do you just disappear?”

“No.” She steps closer, her ghostly form hovering by the bed. Reaching out, she tries to touch his hand, but her fingers phase through him. “I will never disappear. I’m always near you. Now that we are friends, I will always be near you.”

The flames of Jigoku offer torture; the gates of Tengoku, joy; but Rengoku offers nothing.

The words echo in Izuku’s mind, unbidden and haunting. He remembers hearing them when he first met Nikasa, though their meaning has always eluded him. Now, he feels an unsettling familiarity with the phrase, as if part of him did already know the answer.

“Izuku?” Nikasa’s voice pulls him back.

“I’ve had dreams,” he admits, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “You were there. You were angry. You attacked me, and I couldn’t figure out why. There were two paths, and I think you wanted me to go down one of them—I don’t know.”

Nikasa doesn’t respond. Her hollow eyes remain fixed on him, listening intently.

“I can’t shake the feeling that I’m supposed to do something,” Izuku continues, his voice trembling. “But I don’t know what, and I certainly don’t know how. I don’t understand this quirk yet.” Tears well in his eyes, spilling over despite his efforts to hold them back. “I’m going to lose you, and I can’t save you. The thought of you trailing me, alone, and I can’t even see you… you don’t deserve that.”

Nikasa hovers closer, her voice steady and reassuring. “Izuku, you aren’t going to lose me. I’m going to be here, next to you, always. Sure, I may not be able to talk to you, and you might not see me, but you’ll know I’m there. Because of that, I won’t feel so alone.” She chuckles softly. “Besides, you’ll probably see me again if you get angry or lose control.”

Izuku huffs a small laugh through his tears. “Yeah, I guess.”

For a moment, Nikasa’s smile falters, but she quickly forces it back, though it seems more hesitant now. “Hey, tell me about your new friends. How do you like them?”

The sudden shift in topic isn’t lost on Izuku. He doesn’t want to play along, but he understands why she’s asking. He sighs, conceding. “Utsushimi… she’s fun. She’s carefree in a way I haven’t been able to be for a long time. Everything feels… heavier lately, but she makes it lighter. Her jokes keep me grounded.”

He pauses before continuing. “Inasa is incredible. He’s passionate and focused, everything a hero should be. I’ve never told him, but I admire him. I wish I could be like that. I… I want to believe in myself the way he believes in others.”

His tone shifts as he mentions the last name. “Shishikura, though? He’s… frustrating. He’s arrogant and selfish, holding everyone to a standard he created for himself. He’s so quick to judge and so blind to his own flaws. I honestly don’t know how he’ll ever succeed as a hero.”

All in all, outside of the purple-haired jerk, Izuku genuinely enjoys his new friends. Just thinking about them brings a faint smile to his face, one that lingers even as he stares at the empty space where Nikasa once stood.

The room feels quieter now, heavier. His thoughts swirl, trying to anchor him against the realization settling in his chest: he is alone again. No matter how many times he glances toward the corner or listens for her voice, Nikasa is gone.

And he doesn't think she'll be coming back.

The absence is tangible, pressing against him with an almost physical weight. Yet, even in the stillness, he holds on to the warmth of his reflections. The joy he feels recounting Utsushimi’s playful antics, the inspiration sparked by Inasa’s boundless energy—these memories become his lifeline.

But as much as they steady him, the finality of Nikasa’s departure leaves an ache he can’t quite soothe. He’s no stranger to loneliness, but this feels different. For a fleeting moment, he wonders if he’ll ever stop searching for the pale figure at the edges of his vision, hoping for a connection that’s no longer there.

He leans back on the bed, staring at the popcorn ceiling once more. The silence in the room stretches out, infinite and unyielding. Slowly, he closes his eyes, holding on to the promise she left him with:

Even if he can’t see her, she will always be near.

~~000~~

Izuku Midoriya (H.I.F.) Year: First Dorm A, Floor 3 Room: A-2 Class: 3-A

Move-in day proved to be a chaotic ordeal. After receiving his schedule, Izuku had to wade through a sea of students to even reach his dorm building. The entire student body seemed to have converged on the school at once, creating traffic jams at every door and hallway. Just getting through the main entrance felt like an achievement.

Shiketsu’s Old Main stood at the center of the campus quad, its architecture reminiscent of U.A.'s. But where U.A.'s building was modest at three stories tall, Shiketsu's soared ten floors high, with four cylindrical dorm towers radiating outward like the turrets of a castle. The sheer scale and design of it felt more imposing, more refined. Izuku wondered if the U.A. campus images online had failed to capture its essence, or if Shiketsu really was just that much more extravagant.

After wrestling his way to one of Dorm A’s elevators, Izuku squeezed into the crowded car. The elevator was spacious enough to hold fifteen or twenty people comfortably—yet somehow, there were more than that crammed inside. The ride up felt endless, bodies pressing uncomfortably close as he counted the floors passing by.

By the time he reached the third floor, only two other students remained alongside him, likely his classmates. As Izuku stepped out, he couldn’t help but be awestruck by the dorm’s interior. The rounded walls, lined with rustic brick, gave the space an old-world charm that contrasted sharply with the modern amenities. The main floor resembled a cozy common room, complete with couches, study tables, bookshelves, and a single large TV mounted on the wall. Three doors lined this level, each marked with mysterious symbols. Beyond the archways, he could glimpse a kitchen and an activity room stocked with various games.

The wooden floors were polished to a warm sheen, and a large carpet covered the study area, adding a touch of comfort. The dorm tower itself was structured vertically, with five levels total, each containing three doors—fifteen rooms in all, one for each student.

Izuku glanced at his schedule and found his room listed as A-2, the center door on the first level. As he approached, the symbol on the door caught his eye. It was circular, with a dark crescent arcing inward on the right side. Behind the crescent, radiant beams of light emerged on the left, rendered in a gradient glow that transitioned from bright white at the center to warm golden hues at the edges. It resembled a sunrise, striking yet enigmatic.

The two adjacent doors bore the same symbol. Pushing open his door, Izuku found his room to be modest but functional. The walls were painted white, the floor covered in dark brown carpet. A plain bed stood in one corner, with a small desk in another. It was simple, but it offered enough space for him to make it his own.

On the bed lay his uniform. Izuku set his bags down and picked up the neatly folded outfit, spreading it out to examine it. The design was striking, blending military precision with a youthful elegance. The deep navy fabric was impeccably tailored, hugging the form while allowing freedom of movement. Bright orange-red piping traced clean, angular lines along the seams, and rows of bold buttons ran down the front, giving the uniform an air of symmetry and authority.

The high collar added a touch of formality, while the brimmed cap adorned with a golden emblem gave it a ceremonial feel. On the left shoulder, he noticed the same symbol as on his door, now encircled with a subtle metallic outline. The dark crescent was matte, contrasting with the radiant beams that shimmered faintly under the light. Beneath the jacket, he would wear a plain white collared button-up shirt, also marked with the same symbol on the front pocket.

Beside the uniform lay a letter addressed to him. Picking it up, Izuku read:

‘To: Midoriya, Izuku

Congratulations!

We are thrilled to inform you of your acceptance into the Heroic Identity Forge, a prestigious program within our institution designed to guide aspiring heroes on their journey to becoming paragons of strength, justice, and resilience. This acceptance is a testament to your exceptional potential and the qualities we believe you possess to make a profound impact on the world.

The Heroic Identity Forge is more than an academic pursuit—it is a crucible where talents are sharpened, philosophies are defined, and heroes are born. By joining, you are stepping into an extraordinary legacy, one that challenges its members to rise above limitations, confront adversity, and discover their unique heroic identity.

Students in this program will and should be attending a class meeting on move-in day to gather more information on the program and its purpose. Thank you, and we look forward to seeing your development.

Shiketsu High’

Izuku smiled softly as he set the letter down, his gaze drifting back to the uniform spread across his bed. He still couldn’t fully comprehend how he’d come this far. Once, he had been a nobody—a quirkless outcast with nothing but dreams. Now, here he was, standing in his own dorm room, staring at a uniform meant for the most esteemed students. For the first time in a long while, it felt like things were finally looking up.

~~000~~

By the time everyone else arrives, it’s nearly time for the class meetings to begin. Since uniforms aren’t required for the day, Izuku remains in his white t-shirt and black shorts. His friends had shown up a little earlier, and they spent the wait chatting and excitedly speculating about the months ahead. Shishikura, however, had kept to himself, retreating to his room next door—unsurprisingly, an H.I.F. room. Figures. Why wouldn’t someone like him end up in a program like this?

When the time comes, most of the students pile into the elevator, heading down to the main floor where their classroom is just a short walk away. The room itself feels like something out of a fantasy novel. High, vaulted ceilings stretch above them, supported by sturdy wooden beams that lend the space a majestic and solemn atmosphere. The walls are adorned with intricate murals and tapestries depicting scholarly and heroic scenes, each detail enhancing the sense of history.

Rows of large wooden desks and benches are arranged with a precision reminiscent of an old-world academic hall. Each desk has a sloped writing surface, echoing the traditions of classical study spaces. Along the back wall, shelves overflowing with aged books reinforce the feeling of being in a timeless library. Sunlight filters in through ornate stained-glass windows, casting vibrant patterns across the stone floor. A wrought-iron chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its glow adding to the room’s warm, vintage aesthetic.

At the front of the room, a familiar head of blond hair stands out—Luna Dubois. As students trickle in and find their seats, Izuku sits at the desk beside Utsu, who has Karito sitting comfortably on her shoulder. Inasa takes the seat behind them, and Shishikura sits beside him. The room hums with excited chatter as students whisper and conspire about what the year might hold. Luna, calmly seated at the teacher’s desk, writes in a thick book, her demeanor exuding both authority and patience. After a moment, she closes the book, stands, and claps her hands to command attention.

“Okay, everyone, settle down,” she calls, her voice clear and firm. “While it is move-in day for many of you, keep in mind that this was a last-minute application allowance. Most students have had weeks to prepare for the first day of school. You, however, will only have today. So, listen carefully as we go over the expectations for the semester.”

Izuku’s pen races across his notebook, determined not to miss a single word. The first semester, she explains, is meant to ease students into the school system. It will focus on foundational subjects like history, math, science, and social studies. Essays and basic assignments will form the bulk of their workload.

However, there are notable exceptions: combat studies during gym and fitness periods, culminating in a combat trial and an exam. The first semester’s workload seems manageable, as expected for newcomers, but Izuku knows better than to take anything lightly. The room buzzes with quiet energy as students jot down notes, already envisioning the challenges ahead.

“So, you’re our homeroom teacher, Dubois-sensei?” a girl in the back asks.

“That’s right, Mitsubi. I’ll be your homeroom teacher,” Luna says with a warm smile. “I really enjoy working with newer students, and I hope your time in my class leaves a positive mark on the rest of your years here at Shiketsu High.”

“If it’s alright, I’d like to start with an icebreaker for the class,” she continues. “I’ll go first! My name is Luna Dubois, and I’m twenty-three—”

A collective gasp fills the room.

“Eh heh, not sure whether to be offended or flattered,” she says with a shy laugh. “Anyway, I grew up in France and became a hero at seventeen. I transferred here at twenty-one to become a teacher. I love helping people grow, and I’ve worked hard to make Shiketsu not just a prestigious school but one that truly creates heroes who serve the public with love and dedication.”

The class murmurs with admiration. Izuku can tell the students already adore her. How couldn’t they? She has a presence like All Might—warm, uplifting, and inspiring. Her golden hair, teal eyes, and freckled, pale skin only add to her charm. Even her voice, soft and bright, makes him feel safe.

One by one, the students introduce themselves. Izuku feels his anxiety mounting as his turn approaches. Utsu finishes a story about how Karito isn’t her bird, and then it’s his turn. He stiffly rises, keeping his gaze on the floor.

“M-my name is Midoriya, Izuku,” he stammers. “I’m fifteen, and I was born here in Japan. I… I love heroes, and I’ve always wanted to be one.”

“And an interesting fact?” Luna prompts gently, tilting her head.

“Uh… was that not one?” he asks, his voice wavering.

She chuckles softly. “Midoriya, liking heroes is pretty common. Wanting to be one? Even more so.”

Izuku feels his chest tighten. Truthfully, there’s nothing interesting about him. He’s as plain as they come. Even being here at Shiketsu isn’t extraordinary—if it were, he’d be the only one in the room. Think, Izuku. Think.

“I, uh, didn’t always have a quirk?” he blurts out. “I only got mine a few weeks ago.”

The room falls silent. Luna’s teal eyes widen slightly, her lips curving into the faintest smile. Then, chaos. Students shout questions, others whisper accusations of lying, and Inasa bursts into laughter, commending Izuku’s perseverance. Utsu stares at him like he’s the most fascinating person she’s ever seen.

“Now that,” Luna says, her voice calm but firm, “is truly interesting.”

Izuku sits down, his hands trembling. The class moves on, but he can still feel the weight of their stares and whispers. What did I just do?

About forty minutes later, as Luna is reviewing class information and dormitory rules, the door swings open. A sharp silence falls as a tall, imposing figure enters—Echo. Her heavy boots thud against the floor, her muscular frame and piercing golden eyes commanding attention. At 5’9", she radiates authority.

Luna’s face lights up as she stands. “Echo! You finally made it!”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Echo says, her deep voice curt.

“Everyone, this is Echo—or Sade Ehinmowo—”

“My real name is irrelevant,” Echo interrupts. “You’ll refer to me as Echo. That’s all.”

The class stiffens. Unfazed, Luna links her arm through Echo’s with a playful grin. “Alright, Echo it is. Forgive her—this is her first year teaching. She’s still learning how to… connect with students.” Luna chuckles lightly. “We were just doing an icebreaker. Why don’t you introduce yourself? You know—age, nationality, an interesting fact?”

Echo furrows her brow, visibly perplexed. She leans down, lowering her voice. “Why do they need to know this? Is it important?”

Luna chuckles softly. “No, it’s just to help them feel comfortable. Let them get to know you a little.”

Echo exhales sharply. “I am Echo. I’m from Nigeria. I’m twenty-four. I have nothing interesting to say.”

“Not true,” Luna interjects with a teasing smile.

“Nothing I’m aware of,” Echo replies flatly.

Luna turns to the class with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Actually, Echo wasn’t always a hero. She used to be a villain.”

The room explodes with chatter.

“That’s not interesting,” Echo says sharply, pulling Luna back. “That’s unfortunate.”

“No, that would be your lack of social skills,” Luna retorts with a smirk.

“Wait, so how did you go from an op to an ally?” Utsu asks, her voice full of excitement.

“I lost a battle and was given a chance to move here and change,” Echo answers plainly.

“You seem really comfortable with this lifestyle for it to have happened so recently,” Izuku says, his voice hesitant but curious.

Echo locks eyes with him. For a moment, she glances at Luna before replying, “I’d been changing long before I got the chance.” Her tone is distant, her mind seemingly elsewhere. Luna nudges her lightly, shaking her head with a knowing smile. Echo sighs, her expression a mix of resignation and understanding.

Before the tension deepens, Luna steps forward, redirecting the focus. “Well, that wraps up our session! Please pack up and get ready for your next meetings. I look forward to a wonderful semester with all of you.”

Echo nods stiffly to the students before pulling Luna aside for a private conversation. Izuku notices the lingering glances between them, and he can’t shake the feeling that they were watching him.

~~000~~

Izuku’s next meeting was just down the hall. When he arrived, he immediately noticed the difference in atmosphere. Unlike the fifteen students in his previous class, there were over twenty here, and only one familiar face—Shishikura, who had walked in the same direction earlier. Izuku kept his distance, deciding not to interact with him.

The professor at the front of the room was striking. His skin was pale—almost unnaturally so—and his platinum blonde hair bordered on white. His eyes, completely blank, lacked both irises and pupils. He was tall, well over six feet, with a firm, muscular build.

When Izuku found a seat, the screech of his chair against the floor echoed in the silent room. He made sure to sit several chairs away from Shishikura. Once the professor seemed satisfied that everyone was present, he turned to the board and began writing. The words "Duality Project" appeared in bold before he underlined them and turned to face the students.

“Welcome to the Hero Identification Forge,” the man said, his voice calm and authoritative. “You have been selected from your classes as students with exceptional promise. My name is Jacob Hayes, and I am a public security intelligence agent. For those unfamiliar, I’m what you’d call a federal agent.”

“Why is a federal agent teaching at a hero school?” someone blurted out. The student immediately sank into their seat, realizing they had spoken aloud.

Hayes didn’t miss a beat. “Because I often assist heroes in their missions,” he said flatly. “My quirk is highly useful for hero work, but I prefer the secrecy and precision of P.S.I.A.”

The room remained silent, no one daring to respond.

“Now,” he continued, “here’s what you need to know about the Hero Identification Forge. Years ago, a debate emerged among heroes about how we approach heroism. This started when Luna Dubois—whom you’ve already met—challenged Shiketsu High’s traditional methods, advocating for a more socially involved style of heroism, similar to All Might’s. This caused friction with heroes who believed some aspects of heroism should remain hidden from the public eye.”

He turned back to the board, drawing branches extending from the underlined words. “This philosophical divide led to the creation of the Duality Project—a program designed to discover and develop the heroic identities of students with immense potential. Write that down. It’s also used to define mature heroes and their roles.”

Under the four branches, he wrote acronyms: T.P.O., T.B.M., T.R.S., and T.L.M.

“Heroism is defined in two ways,” Hayes explained. “Some believe it’s about how the world perceives you. Others think it’s about what you’re willing to do for the world. These two philosophies don’t always align. There are things you simply can’t let the public see, yet sacrifices that must be made in the shadows. This is where our teams and branches come into play.”

He pointed to the board. “First, we have The Phantom Order. Their motto: ‘In the shadows, we sacrifice; for the light, we endure.’ They are committed to doing what’s necessary, no matter the cost. Their secondary branch is The Black Mantle, which bridges the gap between their philosophy and those of their counterparts. They handle the delicate balance of the dark meeting the light.”

He paused before continuing. “On the other side, we have The Radiant Society, whose philosophy centers on doing what’s desired by the public. Their motto: ‘By their hope, we shine; by their will, we act.’ Their secondary branch, The Luminaries, ties directly to Luna Dubois. Like The Black Mantle, they serve as a middle ground, addressing issues that force light to confront darkness.”

“Any questions?” Hayes asked.

The students’ pencils scratched against their notebooks as they scrambled to keep up. No one had time to respond.

“Good,” he said briskly. He grabbed a sheet of paper from his desk and placed it on Izuku’s desk. “These are the symbols for these groups. Take a look if you want.”

Izuku studied the designs intently. The Luminaries’ symbol gleamed proudly—a radiant sunburst encircling a glowing star at its center. The star’s ethereal brilliance inspired hope, while the golden rays extended outward, embodying their mission to serve society openly. It was bold and elegant, a reflection of their ideals of virtue and a brighter future.

The Phantom Order’s emblem, by contrast, was subtle yet striking—a shadowy crescent moon veiled in mist, exuding secrecy and quiet strength. Its muted tones of black and silver hinted at their unseen vigilance, operating in shadows for the greater good.

Izuku’s excitement grew as he imagined himself among these ranks. This was far more fascinating than he’d anticipated.

Hayes continued. “The Hero Forge is a specialized experience under the Duality Project, designed to test and refine your heroic philosophies. Tomorrow, we’ll begin with a debate on what true heroism is. We’ll revisit this discussion in your final week to see how your views have evolved.”

Students murmured excitedly, their thoughts already brewing. Izuku bit his lip to keep from joining in.

“In addition, you’ll take courses in morality, philosophy, humanities, communication, and advanced law. As dorm captains, you’ll manage disputes, organize events, and maintain order. You’ll also patrol the campus, report issues, and assist in resolving them.”

He paused to let the information sink in. “Throughout the year, you’ll face random, unannounced tests—disaster simulations, conflict resolutions, team challenges, ethical dilemmas, stealth missions, press interactions, and more. Next semester, you’ll begin working under professional heroes—something typically reserved for second years.”

Izuku’s heart raced. A professional hero? The thought filled him with pride. I, a nobody who just got a quirk, will work with a pro in just a few weeks!

Hayes’ tone turned serious. “Keep in mind, this project isn’t permanent. If you fail to meet expectations or prove unfit, you’ll lose your cadet status. But if you pass, you’ll earn the crest of the branch where you belong.”

“Do we get to know exactly what each branch does?” Izuku asked hesitantly.

Hayes barely glanced at him. “No. That’s something you’ll learn upon joining. The secrecy is vital.”

He straightened. “As of today, you’re Duality Cadets. I look forward to working with you.”

The room exploded into chatter as students left, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Izuku couldn’t stop smiling, pride swelling in his chest. For the first time, he felt like he truly belonged.

~~000~~

What is supposed to be a break after the meetings turns into the exact opposite. The moment Izuku steps out of the classroom, he is ambushed by Inasa and Utsu. Their energy is overwhelming, their voices loud as they bombard him with questions.

“Tell us, tell us, tell us!” they chant in unison, practically bouncing with excitement.

Before Izuku can even think of a response, Shishikura brushes past him, his stride brisk and his tone sharp as he tosses out a comment over his shoulder. “He emphasizes secrecy, and you’re already gossiping? Figures. Perhaps this program isn’t for you.”

Izuku clenches his fists, biting back the urge to yell something in return. It isn’t worth the trouble, even if he really wants to put Shishikura in his place.

“Just ignore him, Izzy,” Utsu says with a sigh, her tone light but reassuring. “He’s like this sometimes. He’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“He’s just passionate about the school,” Inasa adds. “Don’t take it personally.”

“It feels pretty personal,” Izuku mutters under his breath, his frustration slipping out despite himself.

“Forget about him!” Utsu exclaims, grabbing Izuku’s arm and tugging him down the hallway with surprising force.

“Wait, what are you—?” he stammers.

“Remember how I said we’d get you a gift if you made it in?” Utsu asks, spinning around to face him with an excited grin.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well,” she says dramatically, her eyes sparkling with excitement, “I have your gift! We’re going shopping!”

So, shopping they go. The number of stores they visit in the off-campus mall is staggering. Izuku loses track after the fifth stop, overwhelmed by Utsu’s endless indecision. She bounces from shop to shop, browsing for what feels like hours, only to leave each one shaking her head. When he finally asks what she’s looking for, her response is cryptic:

“To make you a necromancer.”

Which he already was. So, he didn’t know what that meant, and didn’t even think it was a good thing.

Eventually, they stumble upon a store called Rebel Threads. The store’s catalog colors range from black, black, gray, black, red, and black. Oh-

“This is perfect!” Utsu squeals, her eyes lighting up. Izuku feels a pang of apprehension as she drags him toward the racks.

Before he knows it, he’s in a dressing room, trying on a seemingly endless array of outfits. Flannels, cropped hoodies, crop tops, and tank tops—none of which pass Utsu’s approval.

“Nope. Nope. Definitely not.” She shakes her head after each outfit, her critiques rapid-fire.

After twenty minutes of what feels like playing dress-up, something finally catches her eye.

“Oh. My. Goodness, Izzy!” she gasps, clasping her hands to her chest. “You are such a rizzcake!”

Izuku’s face turns bright red. “A… what?”

“Look at yourself!” she insists, spinning him toward the mirror.

He hesitates, but when he does, he’s taken aback. Utsu has managed to piece together a black compression shirt, baggy cargo pants, a silver chain, and black combat boots. He looks… different. Not bad, though. In fact, he kind of likes it.

“Hmm” Utsu muses, stepping back to examine him like an artist admiring their work. “Yeah, not gonna lie, the hair isn’t cutting it.”

“What do you mean?” Izuku furrows his brow, running his hands through his hair. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“I mean, we’re cutting it.” She declares. “Doesn’t match the vibe…Don’t worry! We’ll get you a trim and a style. Trust me. First, let’s grab a few more outfits!”

Izuku barely has time to protest as she drags him back through the store. He glances at Inasa, silently pleading for help, but Inasa just beams at him from across the room, entirely unbothered.

Inasa had mentioned earlier that his gift would be a gym partnership—helping Izuku get stronger and more toned. But watching him now, with his carefree demeanor, Izuku can’t decide whether to feel reassured or terrified.

By the time they leave Rebel Threads, they’ve purchased seven outfits. Then they stop at a far more professional store called Polished and Proper, walking out with thirteen more. Their arms are loaded with bags, and Izuku is convinced they won’t make it back to campus without dropping everything.

On the way back, Utsu spots a barber. Before Izuku knows it, he’s in the chair, staring nervously at his reflection. He feels like crying. This wasn’t his idea. He didn’t even want this.

“Relax, Izzy,” Utsu says, her tone softer now. “We’re not shaving your head or anything. Just a trim and a style. You’ll look great, I promise.”

Izuku doesn’t respond. He fidgets in his seat, biting his lip every time the barber snips a strand of hair. Utsu’s expression shifts between guilt and determination, and for a moment, he wonders if she’ll tell the barber to stop. But he gives her a reassuring smile—at least, he hopes it’s reassuring. It’s just hair, he tells himself. It’ll grow back.

When the barber finishes, Izuku feels butterflies in his stomach. He doesn’t want to look. But then the chair turns, and the barber holds up a mirror.

Oh.

That’s… actually not bad. Not bad at all.

Izuku stares at his reflection, turning his head to take in the new look. His messy hair is still there, but now it’s deliberate. Styled. The barber has parted it from the left, slicking it to the right in an effortlessly tousled way. He looks… mysterious. Edgy. Good.

“See?” Utsu beams, practically bouncing on her heels. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not bad,” Izuku agrees, his lips curling into a small, shy smile.

Unfortunately, not everyone shares their enthusiasm. When they return to the dorms, loaded down with bags, Izuku notices the stares. Hostile whispers ripple through the floor, and students shoot him glares filled with disdain.

“Well, look at the chosen one,” someone sneers. “Decided to show off how important he is with a new look?”

“Someone needs to humble you,” another voice snaps.

Izuku frowns, confused. “I’m sorry—what?”

“I bet you think you’re stronger than all of us, huh?” a girl says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re probably all show.”

“He definitely isn’t stronger than me,” a boy laughs.

“What are you all talking about? I haven’t even spoken to most of you!” Izuku says, trying to defend himself.

“Enough.”

The floor goes silent. Shishikura steps out of his room, his expression cold and commanding. “Stop tarnishing this school’s reputation with your petty bickering.”

The students shrink back, their gazes dropping to the floor. Izuku feels a wave of frustration. They so easily respect Shishikura, yet they mock him for no reason. What makes Shishikura so different? Why does he get honor while Izuku gets ridicule?

Shishikura turns to him, his gaze sharp. “If you can’t stay out of trouble, maybe you shouldn’t be here. Heroes solve problems—they don’t cause them.”

Snickers echo through the hall. Izuku’s pulse quickens, anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Come on, Seiji, give him a break for once,” Utsu groans. “Why are you such a buzzkill?”

“You should know better than to associate with a degenerate,” Shishikura retorts.

“He’s our friend,” Utsu snaps. “Hop off him already.”

Inasa steps forward, wrapping an arm around Shishikura’s shoulder. “Maybe if young Midoriya shows you how great he is, you’ll start to like him as much as we do.”

“No.”

Croak

The room grows colder. Shadows flicker at the edges of Izuku’s vision, humanoid shapes forming and fading. His quirk stirs, fueled by his anger, and the students notice—wide-eyed and visibly uncomfortable.

Control yourself, he thinks. Breathe. Izuku inhales deeply, forcing his emotions to settle. “I-I mean, no, there’s no need.”

The tension thickens, and the room remains silent.

“I don’t want you to like me for any reason other than the fact that I’m me,” Izuku says, his voice steady despite his nerves. “If you don’t like me, that’s fine. I just hope we can still work together as classmates.”

The whispers resume—scoffs and murmurs of disdain. Izuku hears every word, clear as day, but he steels himself. He won’t let them get to him. Not now.

Shishikura stares at him for a long moment before scoffing and retreating into his room. The hall quiets again, and Utsu places a reassuring hand on Izuku’s shoulder.

“Give him time,” she says softly. “He’ll warm up to you. I promise.”

Izuku nods stiffly, gathering his bags. He doesn’t respond. Instead, he heads to his room, closing the door behind him.

Maybe this won’t be as great as he thought.