Chapter Text
The steady hum of the heartbeat monitor haunts Shouta’s dreams. It’s not like he hasn’t had experience with this before—he’s not always lucky to get to someone in time on patrol. Some of them are lucky and survive but injured or disabled. Others don’t make it. But those people, those victims—there’s a separation between them and him. They’re people, people Shouta is meant to protect, but they’re still strangers to him.
But this? It makes his stomach flip, looking at the unconscious form of Iida Tensei.
A ventilator is shoved deep down his throat to help him breathe. So many different wires and cords are plugged in around him. He’s deathly pale, too, which doesn’t ease anything. Deathly pale, breathing slow, and barely there—but still, hanging on.
It hurts, knowing the victim before him for once.
Even if they hadn’t been classmates at U.A., Shouta would probably still have visited Tensei once or twice in the hospital, if things turned out the same. Tensei’s younger brother, Tenya, is, after all, one of Shouta’s students. He’s responsible for the youngr Iida, for at least eight hours a day. It wouldn’t be the same—it wouldn’t hurt the same—but Shouta would still devote whatever time he had to make sure both Iida brothers were okay.
Iida Tenya had just left a few hours ago with his father. This wing of the hospital is particularly quiet and dark—a special section specifically for heroes and their families, in emergencies only. Tensei has already had five surgeries to repair the damages. He’s been out for all of it. He’d fallen under once he’d arrived at Musutafu Private Hospital and hadn’t woken up since.
His vitals, by some miracle, were improving, but his injuries? He might not be able to walk again.
If he even wakes up, Shouta wants to add but buries that deep down. Not every moment needs his brand of dark pessimism.
It’s painful to look at sometimes, but Shouta stomachs it, nonetheless. He and Tensei weren’t the closest out of their rag-tag friend group at U.A. They were friends, of course—mostly of Hizashi, but they hung out a decent amount together. Never really just the two of them, except for class projects and team-building exercises. And even then, Shouta and Tensei had different ambitions for the hero industry—Tensei would carry the family name of Ingenium proudly, while Shouta would stick to the dark streets, where Eraserhead would only be whispered as a ghostly threat.
Tensei wanted to do good, to make a name for himself. And, well—he did do good, and he had a decent name to him, but--
The Hero Killer. Stain.
Most of his victims weren’t good. Of course, they were heroes—they all did good deeds, protected people, saved the day, as heroes do—but they weren’t good people. Something had corrupted. Embezzlement, fraud, and even sexual assault on an intern. They deserved punishment for their misdeeds, justice for their victims, not a brutal death at the hands of a vigilante gone rouge.
Why Tensei? Tensei is a good man. There’s no way that anything wrong could have been happening at the Team Idaten agency—right?
Serial killers—which is what Stain is at this point—have a pattern. A type of victim, a favored method, something that repeats in each crime. Unless there’s something dark about Shouta’s friend, then Tensei is a break in the pattern. Not to mention, Tensei was attacked in the middle of the day, in Musutafu, during a time where the most heroes were attending the Sports Festival at U.A. A risky attack, a risky play…
Shouta pinches the bridge of his nose. He’d offered his assistance in this case—the Stain case—because, yet again, Shouta can’t not get himself involved somehow. It was a great asset for heroics. It was something he hoped his students would learn, in moderation. When to be nosy, when to not be nosy. An important hero trait. But it can be a little bit of an issue when Shouta has the mystery of Phantom, the League of Villains, and now the Hero Killer on his plate while also juggling regular patrol and being a teacher.
…Well, he knew it wouldn’t be an easy life, when he chose it.
Still. The Hero Killer broke the pattern, and Shouta can’t figure out why. Unfortunately, the best clue to why was currently unconscious in front of him with a ventilator down his throat.
“Wake up soon, please.” Shouta mutters to himself, flipping through the reports he’d brought with him. All sightings of the Hero Killer, mostly in and out of Hosu, but a few in Musutafu. Internships are coming up for his students, and he’s not doubting a few of the more troublesome children will get involved. Both the ones in his class, and the one outside of it.
✨👻✨
Everyone is still living off the high of the Sports Festival a few days later. Hitoshi isn’t surprised—most of his classmates have been recognized by strangers, out on the street. Not just for being the notorious Class 1-A, the students that were attacked on a field trip. This time, for things they actually did in the Sports Festival, their Quirks, their strengths.
He hadn’t been recognized much after the first day. Hitoshi’s glad for that, especially so that since the event wasn’t broadcast live, nobody knew what his Quirk was. It was a secret, still.
He shuffles into U.A. on a particularly rainy day, shaking his umbrella outside to dry before dropping it in the cubby. Everything is finally starting to settle down, at least, for the most part. Hitoshi’s brain is still swimming from the offer he’d gotten a few days ago from All Might.
"...And young Shinsou, this is the power I wish to give to you."
He still hadn’t decided. All Might said he could take all the time he needed. But clearly, if the time limit on All Might’s ability to do anything before shrinking into a skinny twig of a man who coughs up blood every few minutes is saying something, it’s saying he really doesn’t have all the time he can to decide. Hitoshi doesn’t have to say yes. He could still do his original plan, just like he’d dreamed of. Use his mental Quirk and become an underground hero, just like Aizawa-sensei.
But… He can’t deny there’s a temptation there, of power. More than Hitoshi could ever imagine. The Number-One Hero had his eyes on Hitoshi, now. What else could he say? What else could he do?
Hitoshi wishes he could talk to Izuku about it, but it isn’t Hitoshi’s secret to spill. Not yet, at least—if Hitoshi does take it. He doesn’t know about anyone with two quirks. He’s pretty sure it’s impossible. Todoroki might seem to have two quirks, but it’s a mutation in his body that allows for the control of ice and fire on different sides. Two aspects of the same Quirk.
Would Brainwashing and One For All even work together? Or would something bad happen to him? All Might assured him that nothing would happen. Previous holders of One For All had Quirks, too. All Might was the only Quirkless one (and to think about that—the number one hero in Japan, born Quirkless! Oh, if only Izuku could know…) in its existence. It could just buff Brainwashing completely. Hitoshi might not even need a verbal response to it.
The power. It’s tempting. It’d be a big break on Hitoshi—finally make things easier for him, instead of the Sisyphean struggle of trying to be a hero with a non-physical Quirk. But, still. So many things to think about.
“Hi, Shinsou!” Uraraka greets him at the front door to their classroom. She’s big on that—greeting people as they enter. She told him, once, she does it so everyone feels welcome. There’s only two students she doesn’t greet in the morning. Mineta, obviously. And Iida, since Iida is always there before her. “Hey, can I ask you a question about the math homework?”
And that’s how it usually goes, in the boring mornings in Class 1-A. They chatter amongst themselves until Aizawa-sensei arrives. He has a few announcements and then sleeps for the rest of their homeroom block, which mostly turns into a tiny study hall. And then their classes start for the day. It’s a nice routine, which is weird when it’s broken up by Aizawa-sensei walking into the room without a sleeping bag with Midnight-sensei not too far behind.
“Quiet down.” Aizawa-sensei says, as everyone jumps into their seats. “We’re having a special hero class today.”
Special? All Might was nowhere in sight. Of course, it could just be a lecture from Aizawa-sensei about something. A pop quiz? Another Quirk test? But Midnight-sensei was there. So, what could it mean?
“That’s right, kids!” Midnight-sensei says, and winks. “You’ll have a big task ahead of you this morning~!”
Aizawa-sensei looks over at Midnight with a dead look on his face, before turning back to the class. “Hero names. Today, you will be choosing your hero names, in order to prepare for your upcoming internships.”
Oh. Hitoshi lets out a small sigh of relief. Nothing too big. Well, it was something big, as most heroes stuck with the name they choose in high school. But it wasn’t something Hitoshi had forgotten to study for, or anything.
It was a little exciting, too—his classmates cheered, relieved that there wasn’t a pop-quiz to deal with or any more scary Quirk tests that threatened expulsion. Something somewhat normal, and somewhat exciting, too.
The internships had been dropped on them last-minute before dismissal the day before. Because of what Class 1-A (and some of Class 1-B, too) had shown off, in both the Sports Festival and the USJ Incident, many pro heroes were curious and interested in the students already. Internship offers weren’t usually sent out to first-year students without approval from Nedzu, but it seemed like the principal was interested in starting a tiny internship program. A full weekend—Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—that was less of an internship and more of a job shadowing opportunity. Many of Hitoshi’s classmates had gotten requests and offers from big pro hero agencies already.
Hitoshi hadn’t done too bad himself, with sixteen offers. But he was on the lower end of that. Which made sense—his Quirk wasn’t all that flashy, and while he did get tied third place, it was tied third place. Not as good as second or first.
“Calm down, kiddos!” Midnight-sensei says, slapping her hand down on Aizawa-sensei’s podium. It gets most of the class to settle back down into their seats. “Now, your dear homeroom teacher here isn’t the best when it comes to names—”
Hitoshi swears he hears Aizawa-sensei mutter something not very nice directed at Midnight.
“—so he’d enlisted me to help you!” She winks again, smirking. “Now, there are a few ground rules before we start this, alright? No swears, no slurs, no stupid names. Obviously. I am the judge, jury, and executioner of your names. We’ll try and keep this lighthearted and fun. If you end up with a stupid name for yourself and get stuck with it for the rest of your life, that’s on you, not me.”
Makes sense.
Aizawa-sensei clears his throat. “When you give yourself a name, you’ll get a more concrete idea of who you want to be in the future. What sort of hero you want to be. What you want to inspire in other people. Consider who you want to be in the future when you do this. It cannot easily be changed later.”
Hitoshi had ideas for what he wanted his hero name to be. Midnight asks for a bit of assistance, and Iida helps pass out whiteboards and markers to his classmates to write their hero name ideas on. The classroom goes quiet for a few moments. The only sound is the scrrrr of dry erase marker on whiteboard as people write, erase bad ideas, and rewrite good ones.
After a good ten minutes or so, Hitoshi feels like he’s satisfied enough with his name choice, but still doesn’t seem too confident.
Midnight-sensei clears her throat.
“Alright! Let’s start presenting some of these names already. Who’s ready?”
Presenting? Hitoshi resists the urge to sink down into his seat. He knows if he tries that, Midnight will call on him first. Well, it might be nice to go first and get the ordeal done and over with, but still.
Luckily, nobody has to be picked off first. In fact, it’s Aoyama who volunteers to go first.
“Here I go! The Shining Hero: I Can Not Stop Twinkling!”
… It’s not a surprising name, knowing Aoyama.
Midnight looks at the sloppy English handwriting on the whiteboard, and scratches at her chin. “It’s a great start, but a little too long, Aoyama-san. How about you erase the I, and shorten the “can not” to just “can’t”?”
The Shining Hero: Can’t Stop Twinkling. It’s still a mouthful. He’d probably just get called Twinkle, or something, which isn’t the worst hero name. It definitely captures Aoyama’s… vibes.
“You’re right, mademoiselle! It still captures my sparkling aura but is slightly easier to say!”
“Perfect! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Can’t Stop Twinkling!”
It actually worked. Holy shit, Hitoshi thinks to himself, as Aoyama bounces back to his seat.
“Oh! Oh! I’ll go next!” Mina jumps out of her seat, and runs up with her own whiteboard. “Alien Queen!”
“A-Alien Queen?” Midnight jumps a bit, her face paling. “Like the ones in those scary movies that spit acid? Maybe reconsider naming yourself after a horror movie monster!”
“Aw, okay.” Mina sulks back to her seat.
Tsu ends up on the podium third. She’s not at all mortified or embarrassed by being up there, not one bit. “I’ve had this idea since I was in elementary school. Rainy Season Hero: Froppy!”
“That is adorable, Tsu-chan~!” Midnight says, with a big smile on her face. “Approved! Hello, Froppy!”
Thankfully, the choice of Froppy seems to bring the vibes in the room back to normal. For the next twenty minutes or so, it follows a pretty simple pattern—someone will walk up and present their hero name. Midnight-sensei will approve or disapprove. They’ll go back to their seat, and if they have to, think of a new idea. And then someone else will walk up. It’s pretty voluntary, but as much as Hitoshi wishes to be able to turn invisible like Izuku can, he knows he can’t put it off for long.
Uraraka goes before him. “It, um, it took me a bit, but I came up with this… Uravity!”
“Stylish! A mixture of your name and the word gravity, right?” Midnight-sensei asks. “Approved. Hello, Uravity!”
And then it’s Hitoshi’s turn. He tries to ignore the way his palms sweat on the whiteboard as he walks up. Bearing a part of yourself, a thought or an idea, to your classroom for judgement is hard. He doesn’t know how some of his classmates can do it for so long. But he has to do it, just like everyone else, so might as well rip off the band-aid, right?
“…Lethe?” Midnight reads aloud, tilting her head. “I’m not familiar with that.”
For the first time in a while, Aizawa-sensei clears his throat. Hitoshi had thought the man had fallen asleep standing up until that moment. “Greek mythology. One of the rivers in Hades, correct?”
“Y-yes.” Hitoshi responds, flinching at the stutter in his words. God, this is so embarrassing.
“The river of forgetfulness. Interesting choice, Shinsou.” Aizawa-sensei says.
“Forgetfulness, huh?” Midnight repeats. “Kinda like your Quirk, but not quite. Sounds good to me!”
Lethe. Uraraka claps for him, and a few of his classmates compliment the name. Not too much fanfare, but just enough for it to count. So not too bad. It could’ve gone worse, right?
“King Explosion Murder!”
“Um... No.”
✨👻✨
“How high up do you think you can fly?”
“Huh?” Izuku glances up to Ellie.
She’d been helping him hone his more ghostly abilities since she’d first fought him. His ecto-blasts (which he still refuses to ever use on a human) have gotten stronger, though they aren’t as strong as hers yet. He’s focusing more on accuracy and speed, not particularly strength. This was just another night—a few bad guys beat up, and a few sparring sessions with Ellie. With Eraserhead having been out of the picture for a bit, probably just working on another case, the only interaction Izuku has been getting are these training sessions with Ellie and his twice-a-week flight around the city with Hawks.
“Every time I’ve come to train you, you always stay low.” Ellie explains, crossing her legs to sit mid-air. Her wispy white hair floats up into the night sky. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
I used to be, Izuku wants to say. There were times where he’d be afraid of being too high up. When he first started to experiment with his ghost powers, he couldn’t go too high up without a bit of vertigo. But he built up at it. Bit by bit, until he could comfortably fly at the level of clouds.
“No,” is what he says instead.
“Well, c’mon, then!” Ellie says, starting to float higher up.
“W-What? Wait, where are you—” Izuku stumbles over his words, but floats up at the same speed of Ellie. They’ve got a good foot of space between them now. “—Ellie! Ellie, wait—”
“It’s okay, Phantom! C’mon!” She floats higher and higher, through the clouds, leaving an Ellie-shaped hole in them.
Izuku stops, right at the bottom of the clouds. He’s soared above them before, but never this high. He doesn’t feel the vertigo looking down anymore (there’s some sort of comfort in the height, he finds), but he’s high, and it’s a little nerve-wracking. Not quite fear. He’s not afraid. He’s just—he’s nervous. He’s never tested his limits on flight before, other than speed. Why would he? Why would he need to go higher than anyone else can, when everything he cares about is so close to the ground?
“Phantom?” Ellie’s head pops back through the clouds. There’s a light layer of mist over her skin. It’s hard to remember that she’s technically over two hundred years old. She doesn’t look a day over eighteen. Her head cocks to the side. “You good?”
“I’ve never gone this high up.” He replies. He bites his lip, though she doesn’t see it under his mask.
“It’s okay. I won’t let you fall.” Ellie reaches out a hand to him, and he hesitates, before taking it. She helps pull him up through the clouds and above it.
They keep at a steady pace, like they’re climbing a mountain. He watches as the world below him shrinks underneath, the air getting thinner as they go higher, and higher. He reminds himself he doesn’t need to breathe, and stops it, just as they get to the top of the stratosphere.
“Isn’t this neat?” Ellie asks.
“It… It is.” Izuku mutters. Everything looks so small, from this high up. He can see most of his small corner of Japan. The place he’s called home for so long. A place that hasn’t been nice to him, but a place that he holds dear in his heart, nonetheless. “Why did you take me this high?”
Ellie smiles—it’s softer than her usual smirks. “Even though I’m a neverborn, I can’t stay away from the Infinite Realms for too long. I start to get all gloopy.” When she says this, her face shifts, mimicking a melting effect. Her eyeball nearly drops out, before she fixes herself back up again. “Just like that.”
“Oh.” Izuku nods. He remembers how weak Amorpho had gotten during their last few weeks together. “Why don’t I have to go to the Realms?”
“You’re a halfa. You’re still living. You’re, like, a solar-powered generator. You create your own energy.” She shrugs. “At least, that’s what I’ve been told. You probably should visit the Realms soon, though. Dr. Frostbite would love to meet you. So would a lot of ghosts, actually.”
Right. The Realms. A place Izuku has thought about going, once or twice, but can’t exactly figure out how to. He curls his legs underneath him, like he’s kneeling on the ground. He stares back down at Japan. It looks so small, from this high up.
“Anyway. I’m not leaving yet. I’ll still be in the city for a few more days. But…” She reaches for her neck, and grabs the chain that Izuku’s noticed around it. It’s a golden chain that reflects the streetlights when they’re sparring, and holds something heavier than just a regular little charm. A thick piece of metal, circular, the size of Izuku’s palm, is at the very end of the chain. “I want you to have this.”
Izuku takes it carefully, not wanting to drop it. There’s a little latch on one side of it, and he presses it. The piece of metal turns out to be a compass. The small needle is pointing directly towards north for him. “A compass?” Izuku asks.
“Not just any compass! It’s a tool made by combining the power of some of the strongest Ancients ever in the Realms!” Ellie says. “A long time ago, we used to have what was called an Infi-Map, a map that would take you wherever you needed to go in the Infinite Realms. It was a highly treasured artefact, and it was stolen, like, so many times, and it was eventually destroyed in hellfire.”
Hellfire? Izuku wonders. Does… does hell exist?!
Ellie continues, as if she hadn’t dropped a large bomb on Izuku. “And against what anyone else says, it was totally not my fault. Anyway, when I became an apprentice to the Ancient of Time—really cool ghost by the way, hope you meet them soon—they gave me this! It’s an Infi-compass!” She adds jazz hands to the end of her sentence for the effect.
“Infi-compass…?”
“Or just a compass. Whatever. Anyway, the point is, this compass can take you anywhere you need to go. You need some hot, greasy fast food? Ask the compass, and it’ll take you there. It’ll take you to the closest one, or the one you need to go to. You wanna go to the Infinite Realms? Well, this bad boy will take you straight to the closest natural portal. Of course, it could be miles away, but it will still take you in the direction you need to go.”
“And you’re, just… giving me this?” Izuku feels almost as small as Japan does.
“Yeah! I’m sure I can get ol’ Clocky to make me a new one. They’ve probably seen this coming already anyway. Look, Phantom. You’re the Champion of Balance, you should get something that can actually help you see the other realm you’re supposed to be helping.” Ellie says. She pauses, looking down at the world below them. “I get what it’s like—feeling like you’re all alone. I wasn’t the first of my kind, technically, but I’m the only surviving one. And some people just can’t understand what you’re going through, no matter how hard they try. But I want you to know—You’re never alone. You’ve got a whole squad of ghosts cheering you on from the flip side. And if you ever need any help, don’t be afraid to call.”
Izuku glances down at the compass again. The chain is thinner than he expected, but there’s a decent weight to it. He loops the chain around his neck, before tucking the compass underneath the hoodie for safe keeping. “T—Thank you, Ellie.”
“No prob, Bob!” She winks, and it’s like the sentimentality that was once in her voice had been thrown out the window, and the usual mischief was back. “Hey, you ever wanna know what a meteorite feels like?”