Chapter Text
“Eat this.”
Izuku blinks, staring up at All Might in an all-too-familiar moment—a picture-perfect snapshot without a frame, breathing life all over again.
The Symbol of Peace holds out a strand of his golden hair. It dances with the wind to an unknown tune.
This…must be a dream, right?
Izuku was…fighting, right before this. Or…something along those lines, right? His recollection is hazy, difficult to conjure the events, but he forces himself to focus on the drifted, darkened tidbits regardless. It’s like dunking his head into a cauldron brimming with black sludge to bob for memories instead of apples.
The memories sift through haphazardly. He was just in class battles, reaching out to…someone, the vagueness of it all makes his head ache dully.
Did Izuku pass out at that moment? He recalls weird, black tendrils exiting from his glove on his right arm. It was stressful and terrifying, he remembers that much. Izuku couldn’t stop it at all. Brows furrowed, he glances down at his hand and is shocked to see a clean arm, free of scars.
Bizarre, yet undoubtedly exciting. If this wasn’t a dream, wouldn’t it be amazing to get a fresh start? To fix his wrongs and implement all the lessons he’s learned? To save those he loves from the heartache and suffering? Fingers flex easily, and at this moment, there’s no ache. No battered hands with nerve damage or scars.
Redoing everything would be cool, wouldn’t it?
All Might is still talking. The hero is explaining, in the same embarrassed tone as before, why Izuku needs to ingest his hair. He sounds far away and muddled, as if Izuku fell into the deep end of the pool and is doing his best to break through to the surface.
Viridescent pupils scan the environment around his mentor. The beach, free of illegal litter, is as clean as he’d left it all those months ago. Waves crash lazily onto the shore, as if the ocean itself were struggling to rouse, lapping at the pristine sand that sparkles in the rays of the rising sun.
“Young Midoriya?” All Might questions, his sharp look melting into one of concern. “Are you alright?”
“Feels like a dream…” Izuku responds quietly, dazed.
“Of course!” All Might boasts. “It’s not every day you’re being rewarded for your hard work in such a manner, Young Midoriya! But remember—even if it feels like a dream, it’s just your effort that’s manifested the reality that you’ve worked so tirelessly to create! You have earned this moment!”
His mentor gazes upon him expectantly, likely preparing for Izuku’s rebuttal. The boy is too stunned to reply.
This has to be a dream, then. Izuku’s dreaming of being in the past again, and All Might’s waiting for him to eat the piece of his hair, just like before. This is one of Midoriya’s favorite memories. Well, not eating the hair—the whole day is! Meeting his soon-to-be classmates and all. There’s no harm in playing along until he wakes up, Izuku decides.
Izuku didn’t miss the feeling of All Might’s hair sliding down his throat, and how he chugged water desperately right after. At any rate, he’s running as fast as he can to the train station to get home and ready before he heads to UA.
…
It’s all the same. Izuku marvels at dream-UA. It looks exactly how it did and currently does. He stops at the sign that reads, “UA High School Entrance Exam Location”, and briefly wonders how his dream is letting him read the words so clearly. Most of his dreams are hazy, unclear, and any text he stumbles across is illegible and understood by dream logic alone.
Hopefully that doesn’t indicate he’s in some sort of…crazy coma, or something. Trekking along, Izuku’s wearing a pleasant smile as he walks down memory lane.
Echoes of the future dance past UA’s arched entryway—imprints of laughter, hardship, stress, and joy flit by alongside a strong gust of wind. One foot after the other, and he crosses the threshold and appreciates the perfect recreation of UA.
This is the first time he meets Ochako, huh? He was so nervous back then that he didn’t even say a word to her.
“Outta my way, Deku!”
Izuku pauses, turning back to meet the gritty voice. A toothy grin splits his face at seeing a haunched Kacchan, all brooding and cool, like always.
“The fuck are you smiling at?” Kacchan growls, adding a low, “I’ll kill you.”
He bites back a laugh. Kacchan really hasn’t changed this whole time, huh? Izuku’s expression simmers to a strained smile, and if that pisses Kacchan off, he doesn’t show it. His childhood friend continues forward, tight shoulders a dead giveaway to how stressed he really is. Probably.
Back then, Kacchan didn’t know anything. It’s a strange realization—they’re back at square one, and Izuku has half a mind to grab Kacchan’s shoulder and spill the secrets all over again. That would be nice, right? Expressing himself from the get-go to the best of his ability. Would dream-Kacchan take things better?
Knowing his childhood friend, that conversation would end in a bloodbath at this stage, even within the depths of his subconscious. So he shakes his head instead, dispelling the thoughts.
Mindful of walking normally so as not to trip as he did before, he looks behind to try and spot Ochako. The second he sees her, though, he manages to step on his…untied shoelace? He’d surely tied them this morning.
Head whipping forward, Izuku braces for a fall, unexpected as it is. Not even One for All is prepared for his untimely fall from grace. This is so embarrassing.
Like clockwork, Ochako rushes over and touches his arm, keeping him afloat before he can make contact with the ground. Parallel with the bricks below, Izuku huffs a sigh. Some things don’t change, even if he’s lucid.
“Are you alright?” Ochako questions.
“Yeah!” Izuku replies, smiling warmly at his friend, smothering the embarrassment creeping up. It’s a dream, after all. Not like anyone actually saw him tripping. He swings his arms a bit to right himself, which appears to shock her. She presses her fingers together to release her quirk. “Sorry, I thought I tied my shoes! Looks like I didn’t and tripped…thanks for saving me, though!”
“Y-yeah,” Ochako replies, smiling warmly in return. “Sorry, I used my quirk without asking, but—it’d be bad luck if you fell, right?”
Izuku nods enthusiastically, shifting his weight on his feet. This is so cool. If only it had played out like this the first time, he wouldn’t have seemed like such a nerd…
Her expression shifts thoughtfully—bunched-up brows and pursed lips, like she’s trying to pick him apart. She’s always been so smart; it’s no wonder his subconscious reflects that: smart, pretty, determined, and like he’s witnessing her aura, Izuku senses she’s still all those things.
For a second, he’s worried that he’s messed up the dream logic of it all. Don’t dream characters get aggressive when they realize you’re lucid?
“You don’t seem nervous,” is all she says—not a question, an observation, but not unkind. Curious.
Izuku laughs wearily, rubbing the back of his head and glancing away, “No? Yeah—I mean, I was nervous earlier!” The first time I took this. “But, uh, not anymore. Gotta steel the nerves if I’m gonna be a hero, right?”
Ochako’s eyes sparkle then, seeming empowered by the statement, and she nods happily. “Let’s do our best! See ya!”
With that, she rushes off. Izuku hangs out in her wake to tie his shoes properly. Taking a final glance around UA’s exterior, he breathes out in contentment. It feels so nostalgic, despite him literally being there all the time. It’s just…different.
New and empty and full of possibilities.
Finding himself in the auditorium soon after, he ends up sitting next to Kacchan again, who shoots him several withering glances. Izuku opts not to interact, and that seems to mollify his childhood friend enough. Flames smoldered enough to be a pleasant warmth.
Izuku listens calmly to Present Mic’s introduction. The painful silence that surrounds the examinees when Yamada Sensei tries to rile them up causes Izuku to muffle his laughter behind his hand.
The pro hero relays the details of the exam, and he reveals the separate battle grounds.
“In other words,” Kacchan states, glancing over at Izuku. “They won’t let you work with friends, huh?”
“Yeah,” Izuku replies easily as he looks down at his exam ticket. His picture is different from how it used to be—before, he had a painfully strained, nervous smile. Now it’s got his bright grin. “It’d be kind of unfair otherwise.”
If a look could kill, Izuku’s certain he’d be smited tenfold by Kacchan’s gaze. The blond remains silent, though.
Yamada Sensei continues, stealing Izuku’s attention as he further details the basics of their exam.
A figure shoots up out of a seat ahead of them, with his arm poised high above his head. “May I ask a question?” He practically bellows. When the stage light illuminates the person, Izuku grins brightly.
Tenya rants at Yamada Sensei and expresses the perceived failures UA is exhibiting.
Izuku can’t help muffling more laughter behind his hand once more. It’s nice to see Tenya. He can’t help the fond humor he finds in seeing his close friend grilling Yamada Sensei again, sharp tongue a rival for his gestures.
“—In addition, you over there with the curly hair,” Tenya turns around and points directly at him. “You’ve been laughing this whole time. It’s not only distracting but very unprofessional. If you’re here for fun, then you should leave immediately!”
Izuku fights off a smile. It’s a little intimidating to be reprimanded by Tenya again, as his friend’s ire is one to be reckoned with. Echoes of Hosu flit by, to his dismay—that vile look Tenya wore as he tried to go against Stain is easy to conjure. It was one born of fear, malice, and vengeance, something that fits so poorly on Tenya, a person that Izuku knows to have rigid moral values. The sorrow, guilt, and anguish that Tenya’s eyes reflected that day are nestled inside of Izuku's mind.
He's quick to shove all of that to the wayside, as it’s dampening his mood, and he doesn’t want this to turn into a nightmare.
It’s nice to see his close friend doing his best to be a leader, even in a dream. It’s a reminder of the fact that Tenya’s always had these characteristics—passionate and determined on things being done right. Which is why he ends up being an amazing class president.
“I’m sorry,” Izuku says, bowing his head slightly.
The dream progresses steadily after that.
They take the written exams (it’s almost too detailed—Izuku actually feels like he's taking the exam!) and are then shipped off to their respective battle grounds. Despite remembering the day fairly clearly, Izuku doesn’t recall every individual conversation he’s had, and the nerves inside him blossom into a desire to strike up a conversation with people around him. The subconscious is such a powerful thing to be dredging up all these details so faithfully. And to handle the change in dialogue is awesome, too.
Will the people he never spoke with be able to speak? Will they have unique voices? Do they have thoughts and feelings? They’re puppets of his subconscious, sure, but do they know that, somewhere deep down? Izuku’s fingers twitch at the desire to test his theories.
He doesn’t want to be attacked by the people around him figuring out he’s lucid, though, so he remains still and reflects on how this exam went the first time around.
The strongest recollection he has is of him using One for All to destroy the Zero Pointer and subsequently breaking his arm and legs in the process. With the understanding he has with One for All now, though, he’s certain he can ensure Ochako’s safety and take out a bunch of robots at the same time. Pushing what can be done inside a dream sounds fun, too—he shouldn’t be able to feel pain here. If he does feel pain, it shouldn’t be as strong.
Maybe Ochako can team up with him this time around and take down robots together. They could secure their win easily, all the while he keeps an eye so she doesn’t get hurt. He spots her in the distance with her eyes closed.
Izuku steps forward and jerks to a stop when he feels someone’s firm hand on his shoulder.
“That girl looks like she’s trying to focus,” Tenya comments tersely, squeezing Izuku’s shoulder. “What are you doing here? Are you taking the entrance exam to interfere with everyone else?”
The comment causes Izuku to jump and wave his hands rapidly in front of him, “N-no! Of course not!” He loosens up with a sigh, having forgotten how distrustful and intense Tenya used to be. “She saved me from tripping earlier, so I just wanted to talk to her. But you’re right, I shouldn’t distract her.”
The way Tenya looks at him, distrust etched into the features of his angular face, makes him a little queasy. It’s a dream, he reminds himself, so he tries to ignore it.
“Alright, start!” Yamada Sensei barks from above.
Izuku’s eyes practically sparkle. Time to make this dream awesome! Full Cowl activates, electricity surrounding his frame, and he rushes into the exam as fast as he can, all the while yelling, “Talk to you later, Tenya!”
Exhilarated, Izuku shoots past the crowd. He tries to pour more of One for All into him than he typically does, hoping to bypass the strain. The familiar creaking of his bones and burning in his muscles force him to keep it at a lower percentage. It’s intoxicating regardless—with this body, a version of himself that has no nerve damage, Izuku feels free. Light and mobile and fast as fuck, like one of Hawk’s feathers whizzing through obstacles to reach a target.
Or like a missile honing in, heavy with potential and propelled forward by intent. Izuku wants to explode and burn as bright as possible, at least before he wakes up.
Robots around him drop like flies as he utilizes all the skills he’s learned up to this point. Mainly Delaware Smash and Air Force. He launches himself at all the enemies like he’s in a frenzy, a blur of electric green bouncing throughout the mock city like a pinball.
It’s great being able to use his arms without too much concern over them falling apart. The familiar ache that is usually there when he uses Air Force or any other move with his hands isn’t there, and it’s exhilarating. To be fair, he is being mindful of his output, but still.
From a distance, Izuku spots Ochako running toward where he recalls the Zero Pointer coming out. Fuck. He let her move a bit farther than he wanted; he wasn’t paying attention. As he runs in her stead, the ground shakes, and the Zero Pointer rears its massive head. Its hands latch onto nearby buildings that crumble under the power of its touch.
For a moment, Izuku freezes. Time slows to a stop in his perception. Once, there was fear—real fear over this mechanical beast, a fight-or-flight response that propelled him up. Adrenaline and sheer will shielded his senses from his body falling apart, and he defeated the beast with a single punch.
The ghost of those emotions licks at his insides, wishing to fill him with dread and stupid brevity.
As he stares at his opponent, however, Izuku’s filled with excitement instead.
The robot rears an arm back, and he's too far to move Ochako out of the way. He reaches an arm out, desperate to get to her before the fist crashes down.
I don’t want her to get hurt again, Izuku thinks blindly.
Tendrils explode out from his bare hand, crossing the distance between them and wrapping around Ochako’s body. Without thought, he pulls his arm behind himself, and the tendrils retract rapidly until Ochacho crashes into him.
The punch lands just as Izuku uses his body to shield Ochako from the blast and debris that rockets past them.
Right. Before he fell asleep, he had these tendrils—they were out of control. Right now, though, they feel like an extension of himself, and disperse on their own.
The two students breathe heavily, Izuku clutching Ochako to his frame, unwittingly for longer than necessary. He pulls back and grins down at his friend. “You okay?”
She blinks at him, nodding hesitantly. And if she blushes, Izuku doesn’t notice. He sets her down, mind and eyes already refocused on the Zero Pointer. Can he knock down the robot without hurting himself? Using the tendrils will help immensely, and he’s already at 78 points. If he recalls, that’s one more than Kacchan ends up with.
Izuku’s expression is nearly feral—a wide-mouthed grin and green eyes honed in on his target. Not unlike his blond-haired counterpart, there’s only one thing coursing through his mind: winning. Doing everything in his power to win, even if it kills him. Electricity ripples throughout his frame, jagged green lines that swirl and jut out rapidly.
He’s going to test just how much he can push this dream. And if it ends up hurting him, oh well—he’ll wake up anyway.
More of One for All pools inside him. The dam he’s constructed has cracked and is flooding his insides. He can feel it in his bone marrow, jagged, aching, and threatening to lock him up completely. Izuku continues recklessly as he leaps toward the buildings, utilizing them as a jumping pad, hopping between them just as Gran Torino had taught him.
His lungs constrict from the force of his movement, but the frenzy never leaves his eyes. His wicked grin doesn’t falter.
I’m going to win.
At the last possible moment, at the very edge of the building closest to the Zero Pointer, Izuku launches himself, jumping above the head of the colossal robot. The weightlessness is something he’ll never get adequately used to, most likely—the shifting of his guts up to his chest and the odd pins-and-needles that fills him.
Izuku reaches his right arm out instinctually with a single command coursing through his veins. Restrict.
Tendrils shoot out of his knuckles, and it’s like they’re made out of his damn blood with how his arms ache and strain, and energy pools past his hand. The dark green tendrils wrap around the Zero Pointer, squeezing the robot’s arms to its body. Metal-on-metal screeching fills the battle grounds.
He uses the connection to pull himself forward as he raises his leg sharply.
“Manchester Smash!”
The top of the robot’s head caves in from the force of impact. His tendrils disperse into smoke, and as if gravity remembers he’s supposed to be affected, he starts to descend as the Zero Pointer topples backward. Izuku throws his arms up in a cheer as he free-falls, staring at the clear blue sky with a manic grin. That was so cool.
With Full Cowling active, he easily drops down and watches as the Zero Pointer crashes to the ground with a massive plume of smoke. Heartbeat in his ears, his eyes remain on the Zero Pointer that had previously left him battered.
Izuku glances around, trying to spot more robots to take down, practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. Instead of robots, however, he sees the startled faces of the other contestants, notably Ochako and Tenya.
Shock, wonder, amazement. Blue and brown irises flitting about, on him and the Zero Pointer behind. They stare at him like he’s unreal, like he shouldn’t exist in the mortal realm, and he’s come down from Heaven to dole out justice or punishment. It’s funny, but also embarrassing and weird. They’re his friends, they’re equals, and they should be reminded of that.
He starts to jog toward them with a friendly smile, and his body suddenly hurts. Wincing, he stoops over for a second, hands on his knees. It seems like the tendrils take a toll on him. His arms feel numb (are they broken?), and his body aches (did that break, too?), likely because this version of him is unused to using One for All and whatever that new ability is. He doesn’t have a clue what the tendrils are. An extension of One for All…? He hopes to find out as soon as he wakes up, but for now, it’s just a fun thing to be able to use them without too much consequence.
This dream is a little too realistic, though. He can really feel how much his body’s aching right now.
Izuku straightens out just as he notices Ochako rushing toward him, “Are you okay?” She asks, nearly breathless.
“Oh, yeah! All good! Didn’t even pass out,” he jokes, but Ochako’s expression is more confused than anything. Izuku waves it off with a laugh.
The adrenaline in his body is starting to die down quickly, and as Izuku tries to take a step forward, his knees buckle. Ochako reaches out and taps his arm to keep him from falling flat on his face. Once again, saving him from a fall.
Shouldn’t he be waking up by now? Everything hurts; that should be enough to jostle him back to reality. Izuku blinks blearily, the edges of his vision blurring. Ochako only drops her quirk once she supports his body weight, and not long after, Tenya’s rushing to Izuku’s other side.
“What a cool dream,” Izuku remarks sluggishly, hanging his head as exhaustion seeps through his body.
In the distance, Yamada Sensei announces the end of the exam. Izuku closes his eyes and slumps forward as he passes out.
…
Izuku wakes up in his room. Not his dorm room, but his regular room. Did his mom demand to take him home after he passed out? Was…he still dreaming? Hopefully not, but it wouldn't be the first time he's had false awakenings.
Sitting up, he surveys the bedroom, noting that all of his All Might merch surrounds him. Dreaming, then. Izuku hums thoughtfully, worrying at his bottom lip. Just how long is he going to be sleeping for? Maybe he really did fall into a coma. That's scary to think about.
He crawls out of bed, wincing at his aching muscles. It’s a reminder that this body isn't used to doing all that he did. Using those tendrils was overkill. At least he had fun. He wonders what Dream All Might thought of what he did, and secretly hopes this version of his mentor is impressed by Izuku’s performance.
Scratching at his stomach, Izuku heads out of his bedroom with a slow gait, greeting his mom, who was busying herself with breakfast before work. She seems at ease, if not fretting a little too much about his current physical condition. Not too dissimilar to when he came home from the exam the first time. At least he hadn’t shattered most of his limbs this time, so she just stressed that he should be resting.
A small worry burrows itself in his head, and he does his best to suppress it. It doesn’t make sense that he’s here…seeing every vivid detail in his house like it’s actually happening and not some hyper-real subconscious manifestation. His mom forces him to sit at the dining table with soft, deft hands, shoving some eggs and rice his way.
Izuku stares blankly at his food, watching the steam rise out of his rice. That worry sprouts a stem, and its roots spread throughout his brain. What if…he did go back in time? It doesn’t make any sense at all. He still can’t remember exactly what happened right before he blinked to awareness yesterday in front of All Might, but he’s fairly certain he was doing something at school right before that. Some kind of exercise or training that went awry. Did the League of Villains attack them and use a quirk that no one’s ever seen? But why would it have been just him who got sent back? Why would he even be sent back at all? Being sent back gives him a clear advantage. It doesn’t make any sense.
Would the vestiges of One for All know? The dream where the First Wielder spoke to him comes to mind. Would he know? The tendrils he has have to be related to One for All…he just wishes there was anyone who could answer that for him right now.
If he really is back in time, he has an advantage over the League of Villains and All for One. He knows where they are, where they’re gonna strike, and what’s going to happen for…a while.
The worry sprouts leaves and blooms in his mind. The more he dwells on it, the more plausible the concept is. He’s never had a dream so visceral or last for what feels like so long, and all the dreams he’s had have never been so grounded in reality. They’re often abstract and foggy. He chews the inside of his cheeks.
On the basis that he did go back in time…does his doing anything different now change everything in the future? Like the butterfly effect, if he stops or alters events happening now, then the future he remembers won’t come to pass. If that’s true, then doesn’t that mean his passing the exam so intensely will greatly alter the events of the future?!
“Izuku?” His mom interrupts his descent to panic. “Are you okay? You’re staring at your food with a really blank look…”
“I-I’m okay!” Izuku replies reflexively. Never being one to want to concern his mother.
Dread makes a home inside his chest. Will telling his mom create a change, too? He would like to be able to lean on her and tell her everything. Before he can do that, he needs to really be sure this isn’t a dream. He also doesn’t want to scare her, too—she’s strong and capable, and he knows that, but time-travel is…so much more than anything they’ve ever been through.
Would she even believe him?
His worry bears fruit and pollinates his brain, invasive and aggressive.
His mom doesn’t look convinced, her green eyes prying for more information. She doesn’t press the matter, thankfully. They eat breakfast in relative silence, with Izuku doing his best to hide the stress.
…
Izuku spends a week in this state. Falling asleep at night and waking up in the same room on the following day. The more time passes, the more concerned he gets, and thank god his mom just thinks it’s stress from hearing back UA’s results. It’s not. He’s convinced his mind has been sent back in time.
There are so many more questions than answers, Izuku realizes. He journals everything, hoping that getting the emotions out will dampen the worry-turned-fear. His typically legible words are instead frantic, graphite scrawls, and after a week, he’s written out the events to come thoroughly. Half-baked plans, hastily scratched-out sentences, and dried tears from late-night emotions reside in his notebook, which becomes so heavy with knowledge that it’s hard to open it anymore. Every page weighs a ton, and Izuku wants to burn it. If he does, will the future be different? Will everyone be safe?
Drawings dominate the pages, too—Nighteye’s last smile, alongside the happy gleam in Eri’s eyes. Dead-eyed Nomu, with his practiced analysis of their abilities notated beside their hulking figures, fills several pages. A shaky All for One, blind with a wide, empty smile, takes a page. There are no notes for him, though—it’s too much for him to try and write out, it feels too real.
Kacchan’s hero outfit takes up a whole page, as Izuku needed a reprieve from the monotony of feeling awful on one of the sleepless nights. He ended up drawing Kacchan’s face a few times on the next page, ranging from livid to expressionless.
Is Izuku…missing, in the future? Is the future moving forward without him? Or did his mind switch places with the future? So his past self’s mind is in the head of his future self? Is it a different timeline? Is he in an alternate reality where they’re months behind? Or is he creating a new alternate reality?
Not to mention, the tendrils. Whatever they are, the more he thinks about it, the more he’s certain they’re somehow related to One for All. It’s not like he can ask All Might directly about it, however, and he also hasn’t had a dream with the vestiges since he’s been back here.
Izuku sits on the couch in the living room. The notebook lies heavily in his lap, an anchoring weight of his truth, and a reminder of his fear. It’s closed, and his thumb flicks at the corner mindlessly.
Izuku scratches at his head in frustration. Of course, he hasn’t been able to contact All Might, and he really isn’t sure if he should even tell anyone what’s going on, even his mentor. But then, if he doesn’t, the horrible events that happen will still happen. Like USJ and Kacchan getting kidnapped and Eri and Overhaul and Nighteye…
Izuku sighs and sinks deeper into the couch, staring at the ceiling as if it’d drip answers down to him, or a Cheshire smile would appear and tell him what he should do. With serrated wooden teeth, Izuku would wonder if he should listen at all. Any form of guidance is nice, though, so he probably would.
Eri is out there, and she needs to be saved. The sooner the better, but how in the world is he going to explain how he knows all of this? And will anyone even believe him? Considering he doesn’t know what the hell is going on, either? Should he act the part until he gets to Eri and has the chance to run with her before Overhaul convinces her to go back with him?
But then doesn’t that mean he needs to do everything perfectly until that point? So he has to let the League of Villains steal Kacchan. Then All Might’s fight with All for One will happen, too. The Symbol of Peace will retire, and unease will fill the world again.
What if he gets Eri too early and something truly horrible happens as a result? Can he even subdue Overhaul at this stage?
Time travel is officially the worst thing ever, and Izuku hopes he’s wrong and that he’s in a severe coma. At least then he can wake up.
He heaves another weary sigh, to which his mom perks up and says, “We should be getting the results today or tomorrow, right?”
“Mm,” Izuku hums in response. The results should arrive shortly, and she’ll be scrambling in with them. His mom starts to reassure him kindly, and he tunes her out. He didn’t tell her how well he did, so she assumes he did poorly. Which is fine. He did poorly the first time.
Her voice fizzles out, and he hears her pad gently to the front door, and he waits for her to pop back out with the results. In a few minutes, she returns, crawling, and holding out the envelope.
Izuku feigns shock (not that it’s that hard since he’s been in shock for a week straight) and takes the envelope to his bedroom. There, he sits and stares at it. Is this going to be different, too? All Might was all about theatrics the first time, but there’s not much to be theatrical about this time around. Izuku did way too well for it being his first time with the quirk, coupled with the tendrils.
Instead of excitement, dread curls in his gut.
With a weak sigh, Izuku tears it open, and the device clatters on his desk before booting up.
“I am a projection!” All Might shouts.
Everything is about the same with his introduction, explaining his work at UA, and the like. It differs once he starts talking about the results.
“You passed the written exam with top scores and got first place in the practical exam.” His tone is hesitant, which Izuku can only pick up because he’s known All Might for so long. His mentor definitely didn’t expect this to happen, and it shouldn’t have happened. “Not only that, but you have a supporter, too!”
It then shows a clip of Ochako. She wasn’t begging to transfer points this time around, but she was adamant that Izuku had saved her and wanted to make sure that the judges knew that.
All Might continues with a typical-for-him inspirational spiel, invites Izuku to UA, and the hologram ends. Izuku feels like his soul is sucked out of him. Tears well up, and he does his best to keep them from overflowing. Once they start, they won’t stop, and he doesn’t want to explain to his mom why he’s sad. She’ll know, too—she’s perceptive, and his sobs won’t be so easily mistaken for those of joy. He misses his friends, and all he wants to do is be back in his time. The weight of the future is a lot for him to bear, and he has no idea what to do.
…
The same night, All Might finally invites Izuku to the beach. Izuku doesn’t show up with a ton of gusto, just strolls up at an even pace to his true-form mentor, whose back is facing Izuku.
“Hi,” Izuku greets once he gets close enough, doing his best to force a cheery tone. It falls flat.
All Might spits blood as he turns around, “Young Midoriya! You’re quite silent when you want to be!”
Izuku smiles warily, lost in a war within himself as to whether or not to tell All Might what the hell is going on.
“Congratulations on getting accepted!” All Might states excitedly for a beat. A wave of hesitancy clouds him, too. “...Were you lying to me about being quirkless, Midoriya?”
Izuku goes slack-jawed before he jumps into full-blown panic, “N-no! Absolutely not, I would never lie—!” He kind of has been, though. Unintentionally. “I-I think the tendrils are related to One for All and—!”
All Might raises a hand, cutting him short, “How are these related to One for All?”
Izuku clams up, jaw tensing with enough force for his teeth to creak. Admitting how he knows leads him right to the crux of the issue.
All Might heaves a sigh. “Another thing I want to understand is how you were moving the way you did. It’s one thing to have developed a strong body during our training, but you didn’t have a lot of combat experience. Seeing the way you moved, however, makes me think otherwise.”
Izuku squirms, panic rising to the back of his throat. Or maybe he’s just about to throw up. Lying to All Might feels…impossible. This is the guy he’s looked up to his whole life, and frankly, he needs help. Or at least some emotional support.
He shifts his eyes away, scratching the back of his head with uncertainty. All Might gives him time to arrange his thoughts, which is nice. But the silence stretches for a beat too long, and Izuku feels like screaming.
He has to risk it. If something happens in the future because of it, then…he’ll deal with that, too. Just like he’s dealt with everything else.
“U-um,” Izuku starts, finally glancing at his mentor with wide, nervous eyes. “Well…probably because I’m…” He swallows, looks at the night sky for strength, and drops his shoulders. He looks at All Might intently, then. “I’ve done this already.”
All Might sputters briefly, a flash of confusion crossing his features. “What—?”
“I’ve done all of this already,” Izuku repeats resolutely. “I’ve already been accepted into UA, I’ve already been through a lot, actually…I’ve met all my classmates, I got my provisional license, and we’ve fought really difficult villains, and a lot of stuff has happened in between now and then…I just don’t know what happened, or how I went back in time, but it’s already been a week, so I’m definitely not dreaming, and I’m freaked out. It doesn’t make any sense at all, and I’m worried because really dangerous stuff is going to happen to my classmates and you, but I’m scared that if I change those events, then something worse will happen!”
All Might blinks. He looks frail like that—gaunt features blank, like he’s dead already.
“You… time-traveled?”
“Yes! Or, maybe? I don’t think it’s a dream anymore. M-maybe I’m just in a coma, and none of this is real,” Izuku blurts out, panic rising in his tone. “I cut my finger on accident while cutting vegetables this past week, and that hurt, so I really don’t think I am. But maybe I am? Maybe it’s the most vivid dream I’ve ever had?”
All Might looks a little paler. He shakes his head, as if dispelling his thoughts. “Young Midoriya, I do believe you feel you’re telling the truth, however…it is a little challenging to understand what’s happening. A time-traveling quirk is unheard of.”
“I know,” Izuku says, visibly shrinking. He knows this makes no sense, and All Might probably thinks he’s crazy. If All Might doesn’t believe him, then…will anyone?
“I can prove it,” Izuku asserts. He knows things that his mentor hasn’t mentioned yet. “Gran Torino was your teacher, and he scared you a lot—he likes taiyaki, and he acts senile sometimes. He's not. I think he does that to lower people’s guards or something, or at least that’s what he did to me. I learned high-speed movement from him, too. I’ve seen your predecessor, who gave you One for All, too—And Sir Nighteye—”
Izuku’s tongue is suddenly heavy and clumsy in his mouth. Nighteye’s still alive. He looks at his feet, wringing his hands together nervously. Talking about him hurts a little too much, even though he’s okay right now…
“I know that…he told you you’ll die in the future…and I know about All for One…” Izuku reveals quietly.
It seems like that’s enough to jumpstart All Might, who was deathly quiet for too long. Instead of saying anything, though, he simply vomits blood. A little more than Izuku’s used to seeing.
“A-are you okay?!”
All Might waves a dismissive hand, and after a few coughs, he wipes the blood off his chin. “How far ahead are you?”
“November…”
“We’re going to discuss this with Nezu immediately,” All Might asserts in a dark tone that has Izuku more anxious than before.
“W-wait! I really don’t know what’s going on. I’m worried that if we bring more people in, more things are going to change, and I don’t know if it’ll be good or not. I wasn’t supposed to pass the entrance exam so easily—I was supposed to break, like, most of my limbs, and…I just don’t know what ripple that’ll cause in the future. The future I know only happened the way it did because it went the exact way it did. So if we try to change things, maybe they’ll get worse. And trust me, we do not want it to go worse than what happened—o-or, uh…what will happen.”
All Might’s thin face is pensive. Izuku has to look away. It’s weird to be asking his mentor to keep a secret for once, but this is too complex an issue for him to handle alone. If his hands could tangle themselves any further, he’d’ve made a whole blanket by now. Despite how anxious he is, it is a relief to have told someone about the situation, and having All Might hear him out is reassuring beyond belief.
“How did this happen?” All Might questions. “Was it a villain’s quirk?”
“I don’t…I don’t know,” Izuku admits. “All I remember was being in school and fighting someone, but I think it was just training? I remember the tendrils coming out, but then I was suddenly in front of you last week instead. I thought it was a dream, so I just tried to have fun in the entrance exam, since I barely scraped by the first time…”
All Might drops his shoulders, “You’re going to have to tell me everything that’s happened—or, will happen in the next months, Young Midoriya. If it is truly as dangerous as you say, we have to plan for it. I think speaking with Nezu will be unavoidable, so…please prepare for that. For now, I think it’s best to rest. I’m sure there’d be too much to talk about in one night, anyway.”
Izuku nods solemnly. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea to divulge what exactly will happen. He also doesn’t want any of it to occur in the first place. He deflates, shoulders sagging. At least talking about it is out of the way, and he can hopefully get a good night’s rest.
They agree to meet again at the same place the next day. Izuku finds himself back home, and his mom’s warm aura eases him considerably. All things considered, he did miss living with her; Lunch Rush’s meals are fantastic, no doubt about it, but his mom’s cooking tasted inexplicably better. Whenever he asks, she always winks and says it’s a secret ingredient, and Izuku already knows she means “love”.
…
The beach’s waves are a nice white noise, and it’d be relaxing if it weren’t a grim reminder that Izuku’s waiting for his mentor to get there so they can go over what will happen. Or had happened…
Gnawing on the skin on his bottom lip, Izuku tries not to think too hard, but it’s a challenge for him, always has been. Telling everything might be bad, or it could be neutral, or it could be great. Izuku just doesn’t have enough information on what’s happened to be able to deduce anything. The only thing he can do is trust his mentor and work with him, so…there’s that.
He hears All Might’s footsteps crunching in the sand behind him, and when he turns around, he’s surprised to see his mentor with two to-go drinks in hand. “Got us some tea. We might need it.”
“Thanks,” Izuku mumbles as he takes his drink.
Silence envelops them, and he has a feeling that his mentor isn’t sure how to start this off. Izuku doesn’t blame him. All Might doesn’t even know the extent of it all.
Izuku breaks the ice and ends up detailing everything. USJ and Nomu, the Sports Festival, Stain, Kacchan’s kidnapping, and the resulting fight with All for One that rendered All Might retired. He speaks so quickly and has to backtrack several times to make sure he adds all the right details. He’s sure he’s not saying everything right because, well, his memory isn’t perfect. He explains the summer training and Kacchan’s abduction, and the decision to move all UA students into dorms, then the provisional licence exam. When he gets to Sir Nighteye’s work study, Izuku chokes up.
He stresses the importance of prioritizing Eri’s retrieval, and, because he’s like this, Izuku comments on the fact that All Might should make amends with Sir Nighteye. When All Might presses as to why, Izuku stares at his feet. Admitting that Nighteye died is difficult, but he gets to it. He doesn’t look up at All Might, just barely manages to suck in his tears as he trudges along with the explanation.
Finally, he explains the day before the training incident that led him here. The dream he had with One for All vestiges, how the First Wielder reached out to him. The memory of All for One and his brother. The day after, though…That’s when his memory gets really fuzzy, so he can’t say anything other than the fragments he recalls.
All Might's expression is a grave one, looking more withered and exhausted than Izuku has ever seen him. This is a lot of information to thrust onto him, and he’s likely overwhelmed. Izuku’s grateful to have someone listen to him, though. Sue him if that’s selfish. A small amount of the weight on his shoulders is lifted, and he feels like he can move now. At least a few steps forward.
Eventually, All Might tells Izuku he needs to digest everything. Knowing that his mentor will likely consult with the principal (to begin with), Izuku doesn’t ask anything else. Whatever happens, at least he’s got All Might, and they’ll figure something out together. Maybe how to evade everything…
All that he’s instructed to do is to take it easy until the first day of class. Since there’s a lot to parse through, Izuku tries to understand, even with his concern over Eri’s well-being running deep. How can he relax when she’s being hurt? While All Might agrees, he expresses that they have no plan. He assures that a plan will be made. In due time.
…
Izuku finds himself in front of 1-A’s door in what feels like the blink of an eye. Not really, though—he clearly remembers the weeks leading up. Radio silence from every avenue, even All Might. All Izuku did was train his body to the best extent he could while he waited for school to start. He wasn’t exactly at the same physical level as before he went back in time, which makes sense. He was getting pretty close, at least.
At one point, Kacchan tried to grill Izuku at the middle school, when they were discussing their UA acceptance. Izuku had too much on his mind to entertain that again, so he evaded Kacchan entirely.
He doesn’t know what’s to be done about everything, so he has simply waited to go to school. And now the 1-A door taunts him.
The second he cracks the door open, Tenya and Kacchan are arguing. It makes Izuku smile genuinely for the first time in what feels like forever. Kacchan notices Izuku standing at the doorway, and that’s when everyone’s attention snaps toward him.
Izuku shouldn’t feel nervous; he knows everyone in class, and they know him—or…not anymore. Not yet.
Izuku startles at the sight of Shinso. Sitting where Mineta typically sits. That’s already a difference that makes him very nervous. What else has changed?
Tenya storms up to him, with all the awkward grace he has, to introduce himself.
“I-I know!” Izuku blurts with his hands up. When Tenya looks confused, Izuku quickly recovers, “I mean, I overheard. I’m Midoriya Izuku.”
“I misjudged you.” Tenya’s sharp hand gestures are so familiar that Izuku smiles warmly. “I hate to admit it, but you’re better than me. Not only is your quirk amazing, but you also saved Uraraka during the exam.”
Izuku laughs warily. This isn’t how the conversation went the first time. He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably and startles when he hears Ochako behind him.
“Oh, that curly hair! You’re the plain-looking one! I knew you were gonna pass, but your skills were amazing!” As she speaks, she fakes a few punches with a happy smile.
Izuku can’t help as his face turns beet red. Yeah, he’s friends with Ochako and knows her and all…having her sing his praises makes him embarrassed, though. It wasn’t right. He feels like he’s cheating, having so much more experience than everyone else.
Aizawa Sensei drags himself in, and the class settles immediately (after being shocked by his sleeping bag). Izuku knows what they’re going to do today. His concern over what he should be doing makes him anxious beyond belief.
They wind up outside in their gym clothes, and Izuku is buzzing with negative energy.
Should he do the physical exams without his quirk? That’s what he did the first time. If just excelling in the entrance exam and telling All Might about the time-travel barred Mineta from joining Class 1-A, then what will showing his full strength do right now? As Aizawa explains things, Izuku glances at Kacchan. He already knows so much about Kacchan, and he knows that he’s livid about Izuku taking first place from him. The fact that he hasn’t tried to launch at him the second he stepped foot in 1-A was nothing short of a miracle.
“Midoriya, you finished at the top of the practical exam, right?” Aizawa asks, sharp eyes boring into Izuku. As if he were trying to pick him apart with his vision alone.
“Y-yes!” Izuku chirps.
“In Junior High, what was your best result for the softball throw?”
“T-twenty meters!” Izuku replies quickly and doesn’t miss how his sensei’s eyes narrow, and how a few classmates make odd noises. Should he have lied about how poor his athletic ability used to be? Probably.
“Then, try doing it with your quirk.”
Izuku walks robotically to the center of the white circle. When he’s handed the ball to throw, his heart feels like it’s thundering out of his chest. Will putting the max amount of force he can manage right now make Aizawa Sensei stop him? That’s what he did last time, and then their timelines would be at least a little similar. If he pushes it further than he can handle, that’ll work the best, he thinks.
Izuku breathes out and Full Cowls until his bones and muscles protest, and it’s almost hard to move. He rears his arm back, hoping that Aizawa Sensei stops him. When he doesn’t, Izuku’s heart drops, and he puts way more force than he intends into the throw.
It’s relatively an explosion. Gusts of wind shoot out in every direction, causing trees to sway, and Izuku’s arm hurts. Somehow, it’s not broken. He holds it against his chest and rubs it with his free hand regardless.
“Know your own maximum first,” Aizawa drawls, “That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero.”
Izuku stares at the ball in the distance as the class exclaims their surprise over his throw. 800 meters. He glances at his right hand briefly as he vaguely hears Aizawa Sensei continue. He snaps his head up when he realizes Sensei doesn’t threaten expulsion.
“What the hell is going on?”
That’s Kacchan’s voice—right, he tried to fight Izuku the first time, too. The other boy launches away from the class, beelining toward him, and on pure instinct, Izuku’s tendrils lash out to hold Kacchan back. Before they can make contact, they fizzle out, and Kacchan’s head and body are held back by Aizawa Sensei’s scarf.
“Fighting amongst yourselves is strictly prohibited unless it’s during approved training,” Aizawa Sensei grouses, low and dangerous. “Do not make me use my quirk again.”
After Izuku lets out a stuttered apology, he rushes over to his classmates. Trying to assimilate, but he sticks out like a sore thumb instead.
In the end, he uses One for All for the rest of the physical tests. He doesn’t try to minimize his abilities, since everyone has seen what he can do already, and it’d be weirder to hold back. Unfortunately, he winds up at the top again, and it’s just because Izuku has more experience. Yaoyorozu is second, Shoto is third, Kacchan is fourth, and expulsion was never on the table.
Even if this seems small, it still worries him immensely. He has no idea how everything will snowball. He needs to speak with All Might as soon as possible to start getting some direction on everything.
Izuku stares at Shinso a little harder than he should as they shuffle indoors. While he was waiting for school to officially start, he thought a lot about everything. And one of those things was when Shinso used his brainwashing quirk on him during the Sports Festival. It was there that he saw the shadows of the former One for All users, and they helped him.
He wonders if they could help him again. Should he wait for the Sports Festival to be able to do that? There’s no guarantee that Izuku will be paired up with him again, at this rate. He’s not supposed to know Shinso’s quirk yet, either, so asking him outright would be suspicious. Waiting will allow USJ to happen, too, and he knows that All Might isn’t going to let that happen.
The rest of the day is relatively lackluster, and Izuku finds himself walking next to Tenya out of the building. All Might was nowhere to be seen, and he resigned himself to the fact that he couldn’t access him right now.
“Let’s wait for O—the brown-haired girl,” Izuku catches himself, and Tenya blinks at him.
“I actually wanted to ask you something, Midoriya,” Tenya requests. When Izuku nods, he continues, “During the entrance exam, you knew my name. I had never met you, so I didn’t know how you learned it. How do you know me?”
Izuku sputters, waving his hands in front of him as he desperately conjures an excuse, “I-I know of your brother, Ingenium! A-and he’s mentioned having a little brother named Tenya in a few interviews, a-and with your quirk—I guess I just assumed your name! I’m just lucky that I was right!” Izuku laughs awkwardly and wilts under Tenya’s scrutiny.
“That makes sense,” Tenya agrees, relenting. “So you’re a fan of my brother? That’s great to hear. Please call me Iida from here on out, however! We are not that close just yet!”
“Y-yeah,” Izuku nods quickly, embarrassment tainting his cheeks, staining them a rosy color. “You got it…”
“Oh! It’s you two!” Ochako calls out, breaking the tension between them. She jogs closer and directs her attention to Izuku, “I’m Ochako Uraraka, by the way! I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier! You’re Midoriya, right?”
They chat amicably after that, with Izuku standing a little closer to Ochako. He finds that Tenya and Ochako had already exchanged phone numbers during the entrance exam. Another tally for differences that have occurred.
Tenya’s smart, and Izuku needs to be more careful from here on out. If anything slips out of him by accident, then that’d mean even more differences in the timeline, and he won’t be able to keep track, and things might get worse.
Maybe Izuku is selfish for this, but for a moment, as he’s walking home with his best friends, he tries to forget the near future. As if it’s some kind of bad dream that never happened, and despite it hanging onto him like the oppressive shadow it is, he manages to smile in earnest and laugh along as they continue journeying home. And if his heart churns when they finally have to separate, he tries not to think about it.
…
Izuku goes to school much earlier the following day, having spent a restless night sending vague and worried texts to All Might. USJ is happening soon. If his mentor even looked at the messages, he wasn’t sure; the man didn’t have read receipts on. The ever-pressing anxiety churning in Izuku’s gut had started morphing into nausea. Why isn’t All Might contacting him? Why had he only told Izuku to go back to school, as if everything was normal? What is the plan? Izuku hadn’t given All Might concrete details surrounding any of the upcoming disasters—how are they supposed to keep them from happening?
Did All Might trust Izuku? If he didn’t, can’t he just set an interview between them and Detective Tsukauchi to verify the authenticity of his claims, using the detective’s quirk? Sure, it stings to think that All Might, his mentor and the man Izuku has idolized his entire life, doesn’t trust him, but Izuku is long past being petty or emotional over something like that. At least, he’s fairly certain he can look past it.
Izuku knows the threats they’re facing, and he knows that his mentor doesn’t know enough about them to push aside all his concerns. And if he’s thinking that Izuku’s working with the villains, well…
He supposes it’s better to be safe than sorry. Even if it means All Might does not blindly trust Izuku. At the end of the day, in this timeline, All Might hasn’t bonded with him the same way his All Might had. They’ve only trained. It hurts a lot to think about it that way, but Izuku has to face the facts. Trust is earned through time and experience, and they don’t have that yet.
That’s why he’s standing in front of the teacher’s lounge early in the morning, nervous hands reaching to the door. Confronting the situation head-on is all he can think of doing, frankly. Charging forward like a wild bull to a red cape. Before he can open it, it slides open on its own, and a very startled-looking, muscular form, All Might, blinks his eyes down at him.
Suddenly, Izuku feels small. He shrinks into himself and wants to run like a mouse under an elephant’s foot.
“A-All Might!” Izuku yelps, as if he hadn’t been looking for the man.
“Young Midoriya,” All Might greets, smile strained as he glances behind himself. With his currently hulking form taking up the entire space of the doorway, Izuku can’t tell who’s in the lounge.
“We need to talk,” Izuku states as firmly as he can, voice low enough to keep whoever’s inside the lounge from hearing. It’s not the first time he’s confronted his mentor. Does it make it easier? No. Does he at least know how to steel his nerves? Kind of.
All Might analyzes him for a few beats, and Izuku’s expression remains firm, green eyes trained on his mentor’s shining-blue ones.
“Going over what we’re going to do in class today will put you at an unfair advantage, Young Midoriya!” All Might booms with faux-cheer. “I appreciate your enthusiasm for the class, though!”
Izuku reads between the lines: Not here, where prying ears can hear.
“I will meet you in class!” All Might asserts, all the while pointing a thumb down the hall, toward the room they used to have discussions in.
“Okay,” is all Izuku replies, clear enough that it travels.
It doesn’t take long for them to be in the secluded room, with All Might preparing tea as Izuku sits opposite him. He’s still in his muscular form. The silence they find themselves in isn’t awkward, at least not to Izuku—it gives him time to think. With all the thinking he’s done as of late, it feels more like he’s festering than anything else—a cacophony of worries, fears, anxieties, and frustrations bubbles inside of him. An orchestra’s crescendo with all the instruments out of tune, and there’s no end to how loud it gets.
“I’m sorry for not responding sooner,” All Might starts, derailing Izuku’s thoughts.
“It’s okay,” Izuku reassures, glancing down as All Might sets a steaming cup of green tea on his side of the coffee table. Swallowing, he forces down his anxieties and looks All Might in the eye. “What are we going to do? What happened at USJ will happen in two days.”
Admitting how close it really is is like a smack to the face for Izuku.
What about Eri? When are we saving her? He wants to add. One thing at a time, though.
“I am aware,” All Might says, and he looks…tired. Unsure. It’s such a wrong look for him to have while he’s still in his muscular form. “I spoke with Nezu already, and as you can already imagine, I’m sure, he’s also in disbelief.”
“Then take me to Detective Tsukauchi. He can use his quirk and confirm that I’m not lying.”
A pensive pause with an unreadable expression.
“I trust you,” All Might says. “But it takes more than just my trust to confirm all of this, Young Midoriya. What you’ve told me, what will happen, I trust you’re telling the truth, as far as you believe it to be.”
At that, Izuku can’t help but freeze. Ice in his veins and a cavern in his chest.
“Confirming it is a different matter altogether,” All Might continues. “All for One—”
“Please don’t tell me you think I’m working with him,” Izuku says quietly, searching his mentor’s eyes for something. For him to deny the claim vehemently, maybe. What he finds is hesitancy. Concern. Uncertainty.
As strong as he’s become with everything he’s been through, it hurts. It hurts so much for All Might to be distrustful. He thought he was ready to face the reality of his mentor not believing him. There’s an awful feeling inside his chest—it’s tight and dark, and he struggles to breathe because of it. A black hole that steals the oxygen in his lungs. Inky black nothingness festers inside him and ripples throughout his body like a virus.
Seems like he hadn’t been ready, after all.
All Might continues to speak, and it’s muffled. Like Izuku’s ears are stuffed with wax, or he flew too close to the sun and crashed down into the ocean below, and he’s nowhere near the surface.
When a firm hand rests on his shoulder, he blinks to awareness, looking up at his mentor, who has moved to his side. Tears are streaming down Izuku’s face. They’re flowing freely, down his cheeks, dripping down his chin. When did he start crying?
“We’ve made preparations for what will happen soon,” All Might starts, tone both firm and reassuring. Warmer, at least. “I will be there—”
“No!” Izuku snaps out of the stupor, his voice thick with emotion. “The Nomu will be there and—”
“If I’m not there, then Aizawa will get seriously hurt. You said so yourself.”
“You get hurt too, and they expected you to be there the first time, they’re trying to kill you—!”
“We will take the necessary precautions.”
A twist in his chest, a sharp pain, a knife being dug in between his ribs. It’s a vile feeling, and for a brief moment of clarity, Izuku realizes he’s mad. Mad at his mentor. The moment of awareness passes, and Izuku stands up abruptly, glaring at All Might as his stool topples over.
“You’re putting everyone at unnecessary risk for what? Villains will attack the class! I haven’t even told you exactly how they do it, and we’re running out of time! All I told you is that it happens, and for some reason, they knew you were supposed to be there! You haven’t fought a Nomu yet! They were designed to beat you! When it happened, you were injured, and you shortened your time limit! I know where the League of Villains are, All Might, I told you that! I know where their hideouts are, and you can spring an attack on them, or something! At least investigate their hideouts ahead of time or something! You don’t have to put everyone at risk!”
Izuku breathes heavily, still glaring. This is all wrong. He shouldn’t be getting mad at his mentor, but—god dammit! Why risk any of this in the first place? Why risk USJ happening at all?
“I can’t tell you any more than this,” All Might says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. That hurts Izuku even more. “I shouldn’t have even said what I told you so far,” the man admits, a little softer.
Trust me, the words seem to imply. Izuku wants to, he really does. But risking the safety of the students in Class 1-A is reckless and ridiculous, and putting All Might in danger makes Izuku want to scream himself hoarse.
“We need your detailed account of everything that happened in USJ,” his mentor says, and Izuku realizes his hand is still on his shoulder, squeezing. “There’s already a plan in motion, Young Midoriya. Getting further details will help us. Please go to Principal Nezu’s office at the end of the day today. Detective Tsukauchi will be present.”
“What about Eri?” Izuku asks, and try as he might, it’s full of uncharacteristic malice.
All Might’s eyes fill with something weird and unknown. “I can’t tell you that.”
Something snaps inside of him. A frayed rope that’s pulled too taut. Instead of exploding, however, Izuku drops his head, staring blankly at the floor. His tears still run, falling from his face to his red shoes. Dismayed and ashamed. Ashamed of his outburst, yet above all, very hurt. And perhaps that’s selfish or childish of him to feel, especially considering he’d prepared for this happening. Even still, he feels it all the same. The lack of trust burns something inside him to a crisp.
“Class is almost starting,” All Might reminds, letting go of his shoulder. “You can collect yourself here until then.”
With that, Izuku is left truly alone.
…
The morning classes pass him by. Izuku’s utterly silent, staring off into the distance more often than not, trying to figure out just what’s going to happen. What happened at USJ will be different. To what capacity, he isn’t sure. How he can ensure everyone’s safety, he doesn’t know. Is he strong enough to protect Aizawa Sensei? His classmates? To help defeat the Nomu?
These questions plague him.
Being surrounded by friends that aren’t his friends yet is so isolating. He knows so much about them, and they know little to nothing about him. It was easier to deal with yesterday, because at least he had his mentor by his side in his head.
He tries not to dwell on how much it hurts. After All Might left, Izuku broke down as quietly as he could. To his chagrin, Kacchan’s voice filled his mind, too.
You’re such a piece of shit, Deku. When are you going to stop crying over everything?
He ended up going to class on time, looking worse for wear with puffy eyes. And since no one knew him that well, they gave him space.
By the time lunch rolls around, Izuku’s emotions evened out. No longer jagged and raw, yet still weighing heavily in his chest. Out of habit, he sits next to Tenya and Ochako. He doesn’t say anything to them, and can feel their gaze land on him. He wants them to look, so badly does he want that. The desire to be acknowledged feels immature, yet it’s all he wants. He wishes they could understand, or that he could confide in them.
At this rate, they’ll probably think he’s crazy or a villain. They won’t trust him, and that’s the last thing he can handle right now.
“Are you okay, Midoriya?” Ochako asks. It’s gentle, too. Genuine concern. He’s staring at his food, wishing it were his mother’s cooking instead. He can imagine Ochako’s wide, brown eyes gazing at him.
“Yeah,” Izuku replies, monotone, not looking at her. He fears seeing her concerned expression will make him spiral again, and he’s tired of crying for today.
He can feel Tenya’s eyes boring a hole into him, too. Does he not trust him, either?
“If you need to talk about anything, we are here!” Tenya says, gesticulating sharply. A part of Izuku relaxes when he realizes that Tenya’s being genuine, too.
A small smile finds its way to his face. “Thanks,” is all he mutters, though. There’s not really a way to explain everything right now. Knowing he has Tenya and Ochako’s support already, despite them not really knowing him yet, is really comforting.
Tenya and Ochako make small talk, allowing Izuku to listen in. Not pressuring him to talk, simply including him in the conversation as much as they can. It’s refreshing, because he can focus on the things they’re saying instead of what he’s feeling.
It’s a shame when lunch ends, and they have to go back to class.
Izuku waits for his mentor to come in. He remembers this day vividly, so he simply watches the door patiently. Quietly. Trying not to appear as dejected as he feels.
He hears Kacchan shift in his seat, and when he glances over to him, he sees furious crimson eyes.
“You look more miserable than before, Deku,” Kacchan seethes in a mocking tone, baring his teeth like an animal.
At least that hasn’t changed. Even though…it kind of sounds like Kacchan’s concerned, with the way he said it. That definitely isn’t the case, though. Izuku opts to look at the door again, because getting into it with Kacchan right now sounds exhausting. A pang of guilt fills him as he does. He remembers their fights and arguments and knows Kacchan’s going through it emotionally.
Helping him out feels out of Izuku’s reach right now, unfortunately. They already went through this before, and the thought of going through it again drains him.
“Oi!” Kacchan barks. “The fuck do you think you’re doing, ignoring me?”
The class grows quiet, staring at the sudden commotion. When Izuku doesn’t immediately cower or reply, Kacchan jumps to his feet with his hands sparking.
“You think you’re fucking better than me, you piece of shit?!”
Izuku would’ve been scared back then. But this version of Kacchan is behind, too. And for the first time in Izuku’s life, Kacchan doesn’t intimidate him in the slightest. They haven’t even sparred or fought tooth-and-nail. No real-world experiences, aside from the sludge villain. So Izuku knows that if it came down to it, he’d win. Simple as that.
That revelation doesn’t make him happy in the slightest. This is a one-way rivalry right now, and it’s just going to be that much harder to get through to Kacchan in the future. I have an advantage. It doesn’t sit well with him.
Getting into a real fight in the class would not help anything and would branch the timeline off further, though. And get them in heaps of trouble. So Izuku fixes Kacchan with a tired gaze and says, “Aizawa Sensei told us we can’t fight unless it’s during training.”
“Haah?!” Kacchan’s incredulous yell booms throughout the now silent classroom. His expression is deadly.
Thankfully, All Might finally slams the door open with his boisterous, “I am coming through the door like a normal person!”
The class diverts its attention to All Might, but Kacchan’s fiery eyes are still trained on Izuku, and his hands are gripping onto his desk. All Might hesitates at the sight, before requesting Kacchan to return to his seat.
From there, his mentor announces the combat training they’ll be doing. To which Kacchan is visibly elated to hear. Their costumes are revealed, and Izuku sinks into his chair. At the time that he needed to submit the information for his costume, he hadn’t been thinking clearly (considering he hadn’t heard a word from All Might), and simply submitted what his most recent costume had been. Including the steel-tipped boots and gloves that support his Air Force.
The jumpsuit his mother had given him remained in his room, safely kept. At least he could keep that from getting destroyed.
As for when he needed to register his quirk…considering the new quirk, which was a far cry from the initial One for All, Izuku had to go into detail regarding the potential of it being a manifestation of his physical-enhancing quirk. Which didn’t make much sense, but it had been accepted at the time.
Izuku drags behind the class as they walk into the training area. Will he be against Kacchan again, this time around? If so, he almost wants to hold back…but knowing him, he’ll see right through Izuku and go insane. So that isn’t really an option. It’s not fair, though. If Izuku hadn’t shown off when he thought all of this was a dream, then it’d be so much easier to figure out how to make things pass by like normal.
Normal isn’t going to happen, though. USJ will be different.
It just didn’t feel fair to Kacchan. But pulling his punches won’t be fair to him, either.
“Midoriya!” Ochako greets. “Your costume looks so cool! I should have written what I wanted…Mine ended up being a skintight bodysuit…”
“It looks great, Uraraka,” Izuku reassures, having long been used to seeing her in her outfit. Her face goes pink, and he wonders if he said something wrong.
All Might’s booming voice commands their attention as he explains the rules for the combat training. They are assigned their respective roles through chance. He’s paired with Ochako again as heroes, which is great. Izuku is against Kacchan again, though, and instead of Tenya being his companion, it’s Shinso.
A lightbulb goes off in Izuku’s head.
This is the best opportunity for him to get Shinso to use his brainwashing quirk on him…there’s a chance that the vestiges of One for All can help somehow.
A newfound sense of determination steels his expression. All he has to do is take down Kacchan as quickly as he can, so he can put Shinso in a position to have to use his quirk.