Discord Server, if you're prepared for me and Zea violently flirting half the time: https://discord.gg/DSBF4dP

~

"What the fuck, Deku?"

Izuku froze, jolting into unwelcome awareness and the aching that came with it. He slowly uncurled from his crumpled-heap position on the cold, stone floor. Kacchan frowned down at him, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and wearing an outfit that was entirely foreign to Izuku. His childhood friend aggressively offered an arm, and after a moment of cautious deliberating, Izuku clasped their hands together and pulled himself to his feet.

Well, he wasn't anywhere familiar in the past or future: the room was cold and mostly shadowed, with a desk and three illuminated computer monitors on top, all showing different things. Izuku guessed that he'd just fallen off the chair, since it had tumbled onto the ground a few feet from him. There were bookshelves that lined one short wall, filled with books relating to Quirks and heroes, and two shelves filled with his Hero Analysis for the Future notebooks. The most abnormal thing was the distinct lack of hero merchandise. There was nothing aside from a book open on the desk that seemed to be about All Might's life, pages covered in post-its with manic notes scribbled over them. A bed with plain covers was tucked in a corner, too neat to have been used recently.

He squinted, glancing back to the face that should've been comforting, and yet... Something wasn't right. Kacchan's face was sharp and defined, the lack of baby fat suggesting he wasn't a young teenager - which, okay, yeah, that was a lot more obvious when Izuku looked at his height and muscle mass. His black button-up shirt was tight around his biceps as he crossed his arms again, crimson gaze silently demanding an explanation, but Izuku was more concerned by the fact that Kacchan was willingly wearing a red tie. It was loosened with the knot over his chest and the top two buttons of his shirt were still undone, but... the tie. Kacchan never wore a tie...

"Are you gonna just stare at me like a dumbass or are you going to explain why I heard you scream like you were being murdered and writhing on the floor when I came in?" The teen snapped in a rough tone, so similar to how he sounded in the future.

Izuku leaned sideways, blinking at the scorch marks and broken hinges. "...did you break down the door?"

Kacchan exhaled sharply through his nose, pushing his knuckles against his companion's chest a little too violently to be considered harmless. "I thought you were fucking dying, of course I broke down your stupid door. Answer my question, Deku."

He glanced down at the offending hand, trying not to show any outward reaction as he took in his own appearance. There were black gloves on his hands, and he wore a white dress shirt underneath a dark waistcoat. The tie wrapped under his collar was done far more neatly than he'd ever managed, even after Aizawa had exasperatedly attempted to teach him more than once. His skull thrummed with pain as he automatically reached up to tangle his fingers through his hair, and he pulled the hand away with a subtle wince.

"Don't tell me you gave yourself a fuckin' concussion," Kacchan's tone was faintly amused, lips pulled back in a predatory smirk.

"Might've done," Izuku answered through gritted teeth - if nothing else, it was a good excuse for any peculiar behaviour. "What was I doing...?"

"Fuck if I know. You never let us in on the entirety your projects until all the planning is done."

"Us?" He echoed dumbly, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows in search of scars, and certainly wasn't disappointed.

"Holy shit," Kacchan muttered, then stepped forwards, placing a heavy palm on the shorter's shoulder before starting to guide him from the room. "We're going to see Ponytail."

"Okay," Izuku agreed, letting himself be steered along, doing his best to memorise the layout as they went.

It seemed like a decent-sized house with polished floorboards and dark blue wallpaper. They passed several closed doors, most of which had some kind of insignia on a bronze plaque, but he was moving too quickly to discern anything else. He glanced back up at Kacchan, frowning slightly, although was hasty to blank his expression and cast his gaze forwards again when his childhood friend glared back.

The pair paused outside of an ajar door. Voices were coming from inside, mingling with the sound of a news report on TV. Kacchan raised a foot and kicked open the door, a sneer on his face that didn't falter even as conversation silenced and all the living room's occupants swivelled to stare at them.

Izuku's heart stuttered. Most of his classmates were there, except... it wasn't right. They all had similar formal-wear to the two in the doorway, with varying styles of neatly pressed shirts, ties, and jackets. None of them appeared to be adults yet, but they seemed a little older than in the other timeline.

Was it possible that-?

"Hey, Bakubro," Eijirou practically crooned, one arm draped over the back of the sofa as he twisted to grin sharply at them - well, his smiles were always sharp, but this one... this one held no warmth. "Change your mind about playing Uno with us?"

"Fuck no," Kacchan snorted derisively, one hand fisting in Izuku's collar and tugging slightly. "This moron somehow fell off his chair and hit his head, and now he's acting stupider than Pikachu." An offended noise came from where Kaminari was laying underneath a beanbag that Ashido was sitting upon. "Where's Ponytail?"

"Um-" Sero paused to slap down a blue card. "I think she was with Todo."

"Yeah, weren't they making us some cool stuff to use when Midori shares his full plans?" Hagakure added, placing another card with an invisible hand.

Eijirou hummed thoughtfully, shifting to tuck his legs under himself on the sofa. "Yeah, how are those plans coming, dude?"

"They better be fuckin' done soon, Deku. You're the one who made the deadline and insisted we all follow it," Kacchan sneered, giving a little shake to the smaller teen.

"It's, uh..." Izuku tried for a mysterious smile, hoping the nervous edge could be mistaken for mania. "It's coming along."

"Well, I'm not worried- Uno!" Ashido cheered, clutching her final card to her chest. "If anyone can pull together a cool plan at the last second, it's Midori!"

"He's been researching for months, it's not like he's going to throw something together an hour before the deadline, especially after all our preparations," Sero pointed out, gnawing on his bottom lip as he glared down at his hand before swiping a card from the deck.

"And that's why he's the leader!" Hagakure exclaimed with a giggle; Kacchan growled lowly.

"Whatever. If Ponytail isn't with Half-n-Half, you're all dead," he snarled with genuine malice, turning and stomping away, dragging Izuku with him.

Izuku swallowed nervously, focusing on keeping his composure. Kacchan was mean and angry, but he was never downright murderous. This Kacchan was genuinely scary - so were the others. It was like everyone he knew and loved had been replaced with terrifying doppelgängers. There was something cold and dead about their eyes, unspoken trauma playing in the shadows on their faces. A sick feeling was twisting in his gut and getting worse with every step, and it was only thanks to all the experience he had as a hero in horrible situations that he managed to project an unfazed appearance and keep a level head.

They slid open the door labelled 'workshop,' stepping inside. The scent of smoke and oil hung in the air, familiar to him from all the times he'd visited Melissa Shield and Hatsume Mei. He glanced around, noticing it was a lot more organised than most of the other engineering workshops he'd seen before, with completed items neatly stacked on shelves, drawers filled with pieces, and tools hanging on the grey walls. Blueprints were spread on desks, with another rolled up and sitting in a pencil pot. Across the far side of the room, Izuku could see the backs of two of his friends, and he hated the little flutter of hope that rose in his chest at the brief thought that they might've been normal, despite the odd clothing.

"Oi, Ponytail," Kacchan growled, crossing his arms and scuffing his toes against the ground.

Momo turned away from the table they were hunched over, flawless eyebrows raising in question and red lips tilting into a slight frown. "This better be important, Bakugou-san. We're on a tight schedule."

Shouto twisted sideways, looking away from the metal he was welding with a superheated finger and sliding the welding mask onto his head to reveal an unsettling grin, crooked and wild. "We're mostly done with all the weapons you needed, Izuku."

Izuku nodded faintly, gaze skimming over the blueprints again to confirm that, no, he wasn't joking. "Uh, that's good."

"Deku smashed his head against the floor," Kacchan grumbled, the palm of his hand flat against his childhood friend's back, pushing slightly. "Make sure he isn't about to die."

The girl's expression flickered between concerned, irritated, and amused, but she stood up regardless and approached the short teen. "It would be quite inconvenient for you to be injured at such a critical stage," she mused, hands ghosting over his scalp and pausing when he winced. "What happened?"

"Fell off my chair," he responded shortly.

"He was screaming bloody murder; scared me shitless." Kacchan huffed, glower shifting around the room. "Won't tell me what the fuck happened, either."

Momo hummed thoughtfully, parting green hair to inspect the wound. "Well, it's nothing serious. You're not feeling dizzy or anything, Izuku?"

"I'm fine," he assured with a smile, only for it to falter as all three of their expressions flickered with confusion, so he hastily rolled his eyes and pushed her hands away. "Seriously, just bandage me up and let me get back to planning. We don't have time for this."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding primly and pulling some fabric wraps from her forearm, rapidly covering the injury with a finesse that suggested she was used to providing medical aid here, too - wherever and whenever here was. No-one said a word during the process, causing his nerves to rise to the point that he almost flinched when Shouto flicked his visor back down and lit up his finger with blue-white flames to continue with work. Izuku stepped back when she finally finished, feeling like he could breathe again.

"I'd better get back to work, too," she said as she spun back to the desk, grabbing a snack bar and taking a bite. "We should have everything finalised for this afternoon, as you suggested."

"Right, um..." Izuku mumbled, keeping his expression impassive as he turned and headed for the door. "Don't let me down."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Shouto called over the scorch of his flames, voice almost as chilling as his Quirk.

Izuku resisted the urge to shiver as he strode from the room, keeping his head high and his face focused. He retraced his steps swiftly and found himself back at the broken-down door, which he stared at for a moment before reaching down and heaving it into place as best he could manage, leaning it against the wall and blocking the entrance in an attempt to give him some privacy while he freaked out. A scan of the room - his room, presumably - confirmed that there weren't any concealed listening devices or cameras, but also gave him a closer look at some of the books he owned, as well as these versions of his Hero Analysis notebooks.

There was an awful connection between all the notes he'd made: every single one pointed out the relevant hero's weaknesses.

He righted the chair and sat down, shaking the mouse to wake up the monitors and examine what he was working on, even though he was getting the feeling he didn't want to know. However, it was his duty as a hero to save lives, no matter what crazy dimension he was in. Izuku nudged aside the book on All Might to rest his arm on the desk, leaning closer to the screens to read through the plans, even though half of it was encoded - but since it was written by an alternate version of him, and he'd used the same code in his own notebooks later on to ensure the information didn't fall into the wrong hands, it was a simple task to decrypt it.

"Weaknesses... routines... history..." He muttered as he skim-read through the topics on one file, getting more and more disturbed by the details and stalker-ish pictures, carefully outlining everything related to All Might, from his links to David Shield and Pro Heroes, to speculations upon his future actions. "Everything that can be exploited..."

The file on the middle screen seemed to be the elusive plan everyone had been talking about. He glanced over the first line before his gaze shifted to the third monitor, spotting a folder of previous missions and automatically opening it. His stomach twisted in horror and disgust, seeing names of Pro Heroes, including Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, and... Endeavour. Cursing his own curiosity, Izuku opened the file.

"Shit," he whispered, eyes widening in shock. "Casualties and fatalities due to his negligence... illegal actions... improper conduct... reckless endangerment... property damage... and," he took a shuddering breath, hand clenching into a fist upon the desk. "Child abuse... neglect... manipulation..."

There was photographic evidence of most of it, as well as facts and statistics to support each and every claim. It was an airtight argument, perfect for court, and yet... the file went on to highlight Endeavour's routines, followed by a scarily precise plan to catch him off guard and capture him, then take him back to their base and let Shouto get his revenge. He minimised the tab with a cold stone of dread settling in his stomach, accessing the internet as a last, desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, things weren't as they seemed.

Every single article confirmed otherwise. Endeavour's body had been dumped outside of the courthouse, with a note that blamed the people inside who didn't listen when they brought the case to court. A huge scandal had arisen when the facts provided had been checked and proved true, leading to an overhaul of the judicial system and a closer examination of other heroes to make sure everyone was up to standard.

It almost made sense, in a twisted sort of way.

Izuku shivered and glanced over his shoulder at the door, feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. He turned back to the screen to finally read through the plan for All Might, even though he had a terrible feeling he could guess what it entailed. Killing Endeavour was nearly justified when looking at all his crimes, but it seemed like killing All Might was more for personal reasons - just what had this version of him been through?

A message popped up on his screen. The first phase of the plan was already underway.

What could he do? Halting the plan would just bring more suspicion upon him, and he couldn't afford to be detained, because then he wouldn't be able to help All Might when it mattered. A small mercy was the fact that All Might would be brought back to their base, and it would be up to him to kill the hero. Izuku didn't know where he was or what happened, so waiting would have to be enough.

He committed the plan to memory before minimising and perusing the hard-drive until he came across some video files. The first scene had this dimension's Izuku looking broken, sitting on the edge of his bed with shredded remnants of All Might posters on the wall. With every successive video, his hair grew more unkempt, his gaze more wild, and his voice more insane as he ranted and rambled about everything wrong with heroes and society, and how he was going to fix everything. Years passed through the videos, and he seemed to settle into a sort of haunting calm, smiles infrequent and cold, dark circles printed under his eyes, with an eerie, manic, obsessive vibe about him. Injuries appeared and faded into scars as he spoke of their successful missions, speaking of the unspeakable as casually as if he was commenting on the weather. His shoulders gradually became wider and lean muscles filled out underneath his clothes, shifting as he fiddled with knives and pens alike, movements sharp and dangerous, personality equal parts unhinged and calculating, all amassing into a chilling force of nature that wore his face and bore his name but-

Izuku closed the videos and clenched his hands together on the desk. He dipped his head and took a breath, trying to quell the nausea that curled in his stomach and soothe the tightness in his chest.

The facts: somehow, after passing out, it seemed as if Izuku had been thrown into yet another dimension in which he and his friends were villains and murderers. With no knowledge of Shinsou's whereabouts or another way to send himself back, all he could do was remain and act like a complete psychopath to keep his cover and make an escape plan.

Well... on the plus side, he had a place to live and he was going to see All Might soon...

God, why did these things always happen to Izuku?

*

"Midoriya," Tokoyami called, seemingly appearing from the shadows and catching Izuku off guard since he'd just been wandering through the building to scout it out. "The deed is done. All Might is in the holding cell."

Izuku slowly turned, expression carefully cold as he gave a short nod of acknowledgement. "Good. You're certain you weren't followed?"

"Positive. The few fools who tried to interfere stood no chance against the darkness, and Squad Two are concocting chaos across the city as we speak to distract the other heroes," the bird-headed teen inclined his head slightly, respectfully, straightening up from where he was leaning against the wall. "Is there anything else you required of me?"

"I'll summon you if needed," he dismissed, already walking away with purposeful steps and the best murderous aura he could project.

The moment he turned a corner, he hurried up, gnawing on his lower lip and tugging at his tie for the briefest of interludes before his furious mask was back in place. Satou hastily averted his eyes when they passed one another. Aoyama stepped out of his warpath with a cautious glance. Jirou and Kouda nervously ceased their whispering. Ojirou backed into his room and quietly closed the door. It was awful to see them fear him, but there was nothing he could do.

He slowed as he approached the cell. Tenya and Ochako were both bruised but already partially bandaged up. The tall boy stood proudly, face faintly victorious despite the black eye and split lip.

"We got him for you, Deku-kun!" She exclaimed, bubbly as ever but with an unsettlingly passionate edge. "He put up a good fight, but when Tenya-kun sped in and put on the Quirk-suppressing cuffs, All Might stood no chance!"

"It seems like his Quirk has been revealed as a transformation-type," Tenya added, not moving from his solider-esque pose. "He shrank when the cuffs locked into place. It made him a whole lot easier to transport."

"Well done, both of you. Get your wounds seen to - you're no use injured if we're discovered," Izuku said sharply, turning his gaze to the closed door. "Tell no-one to disturb me. I'd like to finally tell All Might a few things, and I don't want anyone to interrupt."

"Got it, Deku-kun!" She chirped with a little giggle that sent chills down his spine, slapping a key on a chain into his palm with a grin.

The pair of them turned and left. Silence filled the cool room. Izuku swept a critical eye over his surroundings to check he was truly alone before using the key to unlock the door, then slowly pushed it open, his heart beating in his ears. He focused on the key for a moment, deliberately keeping his gaze lowered even as he slipped the chain around his neck and used a foot to nudge the door closed again.

"What do you want from me, villain?" Toshinori rasped, defiant and yet defeated.

Izuku surveyed the small room for cameras, stubbornly avoiding the flash of colour in the centre of the otherwise bleak room until absolutely necessary. He padded around the circumference, running a gloved hand across the walls before coming to a stop where he started, and finally raised his head. His face twisted in a sympathetic wince.

Toshinori looked worse than he'd ever seen him. He was frail and fragile, with no light in his shadowed eyes. His ankles and wrists were tied behind him in a way that forced him to kneel submissively on the stone floor, sitting in a puddle of colourful fabric that no longer fit once he'd shrank. Burns and cuts littered his form, scorched through his costume and sliced across his chest, with blood smeared across his face from his hairline.

"If you want me to reveal anything, you're fooling yourself," the man said with false bravado and a trembling tone.

How was Izuku supposed to convince him that he wasn't a villain?

He bit his lip for a moment before sighing and trudging closer, then lowered himself into a kneel just in front of his idol. Toshinori shifted uncomfortably, subtly moving so his left side was angled away, his shoulders visibly flexing with the frustration of being unable to escape.

"Toshi-" Izuku cut himself off, cringing and sighing. "Sorry, I forgot we're... Well, All Might-san, I know you have no reason to trust me or my word, but... I guess you're the only person I can trust here."

"What are you talking about?" The hero ground out through his teeth, bared in a strained smile that was convincing no-one.

"There are other worlds. They're different to this one. Different times, different circumstances, different outcomes... and here, apparently everyone in my class is a villain instead of a hero, including myself." He looked down at his hands, trying not to think of the blood that must stain them. "I was twenty-eight and hit with a Quirk which sent me back to the start of my first year at UA. I'm only just discovering how to control the effects to shift between my world and the other one, but this time I ended up in this world, which is... god, this world is awful."

"It's been better," Toshinori agreed quietly, gaze flickering from Izuku's chest to the scars visible on his forearms. "How did you get those scars, my boy?"

"Uh, I... I don't know about this world, but in my world they were from One- our Quirk," he explained, discarding his gloves and wincing at the warped skin he hadn't really looked at before.

"Our Quirk?" The man's shadowed eyes widened. "You mean-?"

"I was your successor; I kept breaking my arms because the power was too much to handle," he recounted with an amused sort of smile, lifting a hand and calling upon his Quirk to- "Oh. I guess I'm still Quirkless here. That, uh... that makes sense..."

"Wait," Toshinori paused, shoulders shifting back as he straightened up a little. "Aren't you the boy from the sludge villain incident?"

Izuku raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That happened here, too? Huh. Yeah, that was me!"

"That was a terrible event," he said solemnly, dipping his head and lowering his voice. "I apologise for my harsh words on the rooftop. I suppose that influenced your choice to become a villain..."

"Uh, well, probably, I guess. Maybe," the teen responded far too nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder before raising his hands in surrender, rapidly shaking his head as he tried to backtrack. "Sorry, I meant- you weren't wrong, it is extra dangerous to be Quirkless- but, well, I- um... This universe's me probably does hold it against you. Sorry."

"I never learnt your name, did I?" Toshinori prompted with a flash of a warm smile.

The boy returned it, albeit tinged with sadness at the fact that they were complete strangers once again. "Midoriya Izuku."

"Well, Young Midoriya, I'm still sorry for my past actions against you, and I thank you for not revealing my secret. So," he moved a little on the stone floor, clearly uncomfortable, "you're my successor and a hero in your world?"

Izuku grinned fondly and dipped his head. "Yeah. You made me clean Dagobah Beach and stick to a brutal exercise regime to make sure my body could handle One f- our Quirk before I inherited it." He cast his gaze up again, faintly amused. "You don't have to try and build an emotional connection with me so you can exploit it and escape, you know."

Toshinori looked a little spooked, trying to sound convincing. "My boy, that's not-"

"Once, I- uh... this is embarrassing, but once I actually, um..." Izuku hid his burning face in his hands. "Once I accidentally called you 'Dad Might' in front of everyone. I couldn't look you in the eye for a week." He reluctantly looked back at the hero. "So, uh, yeah... You really don't need to build an emotional connection with me, Toshi-san - uh, sorry, All Might-san."

The poor hero didn't seem to know what to think about that confession. Izuku clasped at the chain around his throat and lifted it off, reaching forwards a little too quickly and making Toshinori flinch back cautiously. He gave a reassuring smile and held the necklace out for a few more moments, allowing the man to hesitantly dip his head, tensing up only minutely as the cold metal settled around his neck before sitting up again, expression a little confused and considering. Izuku slowly moved his hands down, grasping the key and delicately tucking it out of sight under the loose collar, concealing the entire thing beneath the bright fabric.

"Thank you, Young Midoriya," Toshinori said warmly.

Izuku nodded, then whipped out a knife. The hero reared back as best he could without falling. Izuku blinked in surprise, before glancing between the silver blade and the hostage with dawning realisation, the ridiculousness enough to make him burst out laughing.

He covered his mouth with a hand, trying to stop giggling as he raised the knife-holding hand in a sheepish surrender. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to- oh, sorry, I'm sorry. That was- yeah, that was dumb. I should've warned you. If I had our Quirk I could just tear the rope, but since I don't..." He waved the knife a little feebly. "...yeah, knife. Sorry.

"...right," Toshinori gave a nervous sort of chuckle, reluctantly settling back into place, still tensed and uneasy.

"Sorry," Izuku said again for good measure, scooting around to access the ropes and starting to carefully saw at them. "I'd really appreciate it if you didn't immediately try to fight and sprint away once you're free, by the way."

"I won't," he denied, although there was a wistful note. "I doubt I'd be able to fight like this, anyway."

"I'm not sure what to do about the cuffs," the boy muttered as he pulled the rope loose, sheathing the knife at his hip and giving a testing poke at the cuffs. "I think it needs a special kind of key, but obviously they didn't give one to me because who in their right mind would free All Might after capturing him, but I don't know if we'd be able to escape with you still restricted, so that means I need to somehow ask for or acquire a key in a way that doesn't garner suspicion and get us both killed before we'll be able to escape unscathed-"

"Young Midoriya?"

"Right, sorry, well," he paused to take a breath after the mumble-storm, shifting back to allow Toshinori to pull his arms underneath his legs to have his hands back in front of him. "The best thing I can do is leave and think of an excuse to obtain the key, then return to free you. It's dangerous, but I think I have enough authority to keep people from asking too many questions..."

Izuku sat back down in front of his idol, gaze skimming guiltily over the wounds before reaching inside his waistcoat pocket and withdrawing some medical supplies he'd snatched from his room. He learned from his recent past mistakes and let Toshinori see what he was doing before moving in and gently wiping the blood away from the hero's face, each swipe light and soft and loving, slowly and carefully cleaning the wound enough to paste a patch over it. Toshinori seemed taken aback by the innocent actions, clearly and understandably not completely trusting Izuku's outlandish tale of being flung through dimensions thanks to some miracle Quirk and not actually being a villain, despite everything that suggested otherwise.

"There's not much I can do right now," Izuku muttered apologetically, pressing a cloth to the gash across the hero's chest.

"It's enough. Thank you," Toshinori responded quietly.

"Don't thank me yet; this plan could go horribly wrong in a number of ways," he commented with a sharp huff of nervous laughter, standing up and stepping back, shoving his scarred hands into his pockets.

"I can get us out of here once these cuffs are off," the man promised, shaking his wrists a little and giving a hopeful smile.

Izuku nodded, brow furrowed thoughtfully. His body froze up as the door behind him flung open. A flash of panic crossed his face, mirrored by the hero, but he was quick to adapt and school his expression into something fierce and furious as he whipped around to face the intruder. Kacchan - no, Bakugou was standing in the doorway, scuffed and bloodied and baring his teeth in a snarl that grew more dangerous as his glinting eyes locked onto the hostage.

He pointed an accusing finger, taking an aggressive step forwards. "The fuck are you doing, you moron? You're supposed to fuckin' torture him or some shit, not-"

"Shut the hell up," Izuku hissed, eyes wide and manic, planting his palms onto the taller teen's chest and shoving him back before advancing. "I warned no-one to interrupt, and that includes you, Kacchan." He inhaled through his nose, straightening up and glaring. "The shit you're about to say better be important."

Bakugou squinted cautiously for a moment longer, hunched in on himself and uneasy. "Squad Two had to retreat. The heroes sent those 3-A bastards out to counter us. We split up to avoid being tailed, but the heroes are already getting suspicious. I doubt it'll be long before the whole country is out searching for this fucker."

Izuku let out a low growl, hand twitching closer to the sheath at his hip; Bakugou's gaze followed apprehensively. "Make sure everyone's recharged and bandaged up. We need everyone fresh and ready to fight within the hour."

"An hour? That's-"

"More than enough time to recover. This is the Number One Hero: we don't have time to take a break," he cut in icily, swinging the knife back to point at his idol without breaking eye contact with Bakugou. "It'll be inconvenient if we have to abandon base, so draw the heroes to the decoy across the city. Everyone is on the mission, except me."

"You're going to stay here, alone, with the hero?" Bakugou sneered, recovering his backbone. "How do we know you haven't gone soft and changed your mind? You always idolised him."

"You think I'd go through all of this... all this planning... all these sleepless nights... all the research..." His voice grew louder and more threatening with every word. "Just to back out at the critical point?!" He snapped the tip of the blade towards Bakugou's throat, chest heaving with passion. "Get out of here. If you disturb me again, there will be consequences."

Bakugou's nose twitched as if he wanted to retort, but he merely swallowed, casting a wary glance at the blade before backing up. He turned around and stormed out, slamming the door closed behind him in an attempt to make it seem as if he hadn't just fled with his tail between his legs. Izuku held his pose for a few more moments, focusing on calming his heart to the point where it no longer felt as if it was going to explode from all the stress of the situation. He sheathed the knife and spun around in one smooth motion, tangling both his hands back through his hair and leaving them for a moment before letting his arms drop again, faintly trembling with adrenaline.

"Oh my god," Izuku muttered to himself, letting out a shrill, panicked giggle. "If I ever make it home, I'm retiring. Now I know how Aizawa-sensei feels when we stress him out. I'm never gonna tease him again." He paused, contemplating for a second before chuckling and shaking his head. "No, that's a lie. He's just so much fun to tease... as are you, Toshi-san."

"Um, thank you?" Toshinori responded hesitantly, brow furrowed as he gazed uncertainly at the teen.

"Over a decade of going up against villains makes it a lot easier to imitate them," he admitted tiredly by way of answering the unspoken question of what the hell just happened.

"I suppose that's true."

"Well, at least we've got a more concrete plan to go off of. The base will be empty within the hour, so if I can't find a key to let you brute-force your way out of here, we can just stealth our way to freedom." He paced a short distance at the front of the room, posture pristine and expression steeled. "Although... there's no telling what will happen with the time-travel-dimension-travel Quirk. I'm not in pain, which implies there isn't a time limit like there is in the future, so that means I need to find Shinsou-kun to-" He came to a sudden halt, blinking. "Oh. That... won't work. I... I don't have One for All... Um, okay, I- I can... there's bound to be another way home, probably... I've just got to think of something. I always think of something. I-"

Izuku shrank down into a crouch, pressing a hand to his face and taking a shuddering breath. His eyes burned with tears that spilled down his freckled cheeks. He shook his head and forced himself to stand back up, distraught but determined, yet unable to stop crying at the hopelessness that promised to swallow him.

"Young Midoriya..."

"Nevermind. I'll work something out later. My priority is to get you to safety, Toshi-sa- All Might-san," Izuku stated firmly, crossing his arms and clutching at his sides. "Whatever happens with me... doesn't matter. I can adapt. I always do."

Toshinori gazed at him sadly, but Izuku turned away.

*

The hunt for an elusive key was a failure. He had checked throughout the building, even peeking into people's bedrooms when they were elsewhere to skim their belongings, but to no avail: it wouldn't surprise him if the key had been destroyed at some point to ensure that there was no way of All Might escaping on his own. Whenever he passed the locations with his classmates preparing inside, they would immediately tense up and continue working ten times more rapidly, treating injuries and eating snacks and doing final tests on their gear to affirm that it was all in working order.

His skull was starting to ache under the combined forces of stress and his head injury. Izuku rubbed his knuckles over his forehead, heading to the front of their house where the first group was already preparing to leave. They acknowledged him with glances and nods, dressed up in outfits that vaguely resembled dark versions of their hero costumes. Ocha- Uraraka gave him a jaunty wave and a smile that showed too much teeth before she hopped in the back of their vehicle. Asui hopped in afterwards, followed by Todoroki and Kirishima, both of whom shared an unsettling grin. The van drove off, but Izuku stayed in place, arms crossed and expression stony until the third and final group had departed.

It felt like a weight had eased off his shoulders. He spun on his toes with newfound energy, darting back inside the building and heading down to the holding cell. The pain in his head increased when he moved too quickly, sending a rush of nausea over him and forcing him to pause outside the cell, one hand on the wall as he doubled over, gritting his teeth. Izuku straightened up with one arm wrapped around his stomach, pulling open the door and managing a strained smile at the sight of his mentor sitting in a corner. Toshinori blinked a little sleepily before shifting on the uncomfortable stone floor, a sunbeam of hope casting across his face.

"They've all gone," Izuku informed, trudging over and offering his hand that the man stared at for a moment before grabbing it and awkwardly hauling himself to his feet. "I couldn't find the key, sorry."

"Is there any way we can call the police?" Toshinori asked, wincing a little when he stood at his full height, no doubt suffering from being scrunched in such an awkward position for so long.

The boy gnawed on his lower lip, automatically moving in close and gently wrapping his arm around the hero's waist, only to pause and hastily pull back when Toshinori tensed up. "Uh, sorry, that was overstepping... a lot of boundaries." He brushed a palm over his scars, sheepish. "Um, anyway, this sounds bad, but... these people are my friends in the other world, and... I know they're terrible people here, but I just... This is their home, Toshi-san. I've no idea what happened to lead everyone to a life of villainy, and I don't know if I can... They're all still family, and if they get arrested... I don't want to be the cause of that, you know?"

"Your heart is admirable, Young Midoriya. I think I can see why I chose you as my successor," Toshinori said, tone warm and a little exasperated, but understanding in a way that caused relief to bloom in the boy's chest.

"Right, we should get moving!" Izuku exclaimed, only to pause and blink in surprise as a large hand briefly patted his head, causing him to giggle a little - some things never changed, clearly. "Ah, um - follow me!"

The two of them manoeuvred carefully through the building, not wholly comforted by the knowledge that they were alone in the house and paranoid of being discovered with every single step. Izuku's headache grew almost blinding - but, hey, he was no stranger to pain, and he needed to save his mentor. Toshinori was looking more and more concerned with every suppressed whimper, getting waved off when he seemed as if he was about to ask if the boy was okay. Instead of saying anything, he hesitated momentarily before awkwardly laying his still-linked arms over Izuku's shoulders, bringing a joyful smile to the teen's face as he gently hooked his scarred arm around the man's torso.

The pair exited the house with an audible sigh of relief. Hazy sunlight filtered through clouds, but the duo were standing in the black shadow of the building. A car was parked crookedly in the dirt, and the boy pressed the button on the key to unlock it.

Izuku covered his eyes with a hand, hissing out a breath between his teeth at the light. "Well, this is our, uh... our... our ride."

"Thank you, my boy," Toshinori said, tone laced with worry. "Young Midoriya, are you-"

"I'm fine," he muttered, despite the fact that he was now sweating. "It's the least I can do, since it's technically my fault you're here in the first place."

His worried blue gaze lingered. Izuku stared defiantly up at him through his fingers.

Toshinori heaved a sigh, striding towards the car. "I think I'll be driving."

He nodded slowly, eyes slitted and teeth gritted. "Y-yeah, that's-"

Another thrum of agony sent him to his knees on the earth, arms wrapping around his skull as a whimper escaped him, despite his best efforts. It felt like his head was splitting in two, god, shit, he couldn't think - there was no way this was due to his... his... his head wound. This was-

Toshinori turned and jogged back over, panicked. "Young Midoriya!"

His hand pulled away from his green hair, clenched into a claw, falling down to his side and - no, what, why - he wasn't doing that, how-?

"My boy, what's wrong?!"

The hand stilled in its motion towards the sheath at his hip. He focused on lifting his gaze, trembling and panting for breath in a battle against the unseen. Toshinori stared down at him, eyes flickering between his face and his shaking hand with increasing wariness.

"I- I don't-" No, no - stop, don't! I won't let you- "Y-you need to go, T-Toshi-san. You're-"

"You're hurt, I can't just leave you," he whispered, afraid and alarmed, but as stubborn as ever in a way that was usually endearing but fuck, not right now, he needed to go-

Izuku froze, other arm unwillingly lowering to rest upon his thigh. "You did before, All Might," he snarled out in an icy tone, gaze toxic.

Toshinori reeled back - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please go - and straightened up cautiously, half turned towards the vehicle behind him. "And I regret it, my boy."

"Oh? Do you regret it just because you've seen what you created, or because you've actually changed your opinion on the Quirkless, huh?" He gave a chilling laugh, hand reaching back and clasping around the knife - don't, please don't, he doesn't deserve - "I've proved you wrong. I've proved everyone wrong! I'm not weak... I'm not useless... I'm-"

Izuku growled in the back of his throat, shaking his head. He was the Pro Hero, Deku, and he graduated from UA at the top of his class, and he saved people on the daily, and if there was someone with stubbornness that rivalled Toshinori, it was Deku. He was best friends with Ochako and Tenya and Shouto, and even Kacchan on a good day, and all of them were an unstoppable team to be feared and revered, at the level of gods - they'd all defied expectations - no-one could compare to their talents - nothing could compare to the thrill of the kill after months of intricate planning - no, no! He was - he was Deku, and he - he was... he was...

He was rising like a broken puppet, slow and eerie.

"In a way, I should thank you, All Might," his voice wasn't his anymore; it was deceptively calm and unsettlingly pleasant. "Because without you... I would never have realised how fake and corrupt heroes are."

"I'm sorry, Young Midoriya," All Might raised his cuffed hands in a placating gesture. "You're right. I should've practised what I preached. Heroics is a dangerous path, even with a Quirk, but it's a noble one regardless, and I should've supported your dream."

"It's a bit late for that," Izuku said with a sardonic flash of the teeth, knife in hand motioning towards himself. "Don't you see? You've created a monster, All Might. It's your fault. It's all your fault..." His grin grew manic, glinting eyes wide and wild. "You killed the Quirkless boy; now the Quirkless boy will bring about your end. Isn't that poetic, All Might?"

All Might's gaze was flicking back and forth from the car, and he was already taking slow, retreating steps like the coward he was. "You don't have to do this. It's not too late to change your ways, my boy."

"Don't call me th-" The swinging motion of the knife halted - I won't let you, he doesn't deserve to die - and Izuku's lips curled into a sneer, other hand wrapping tightly around his uncooperative wrist. "You gave him your Quirk so he could become a hero... why not me? What made me different, huh? Don't I deserve to be a hero just as much as him?"

"I don't know," All Might whispered miserably, a few steps away and not daring to move again. "I don't know what happened differently in his universe for me to see I was foolish sooner; but here, with the courage and selflessness and kindness he showed me today, I can only imagine it was something inspiring and truly heroic." Intense blue eyes met tormented green. "What's stopping you from showing me the same, now, Midoriya Izuku?"

"You- you- you destroyed me, All Might. You don't- you can't-" Izuku gulped in a shuddering breath, gaze glistening with unshed tears, fury scorching through his veins at the audacity. "It's too late. You don't deserve my mercy."

He was right in front of the man in a blink, one gloved hand fisting in the front of his baggy costume, the other hand raising the knife - he's too strong, I can't stop him. All Might twisted cautiously, uncertainty fading into solid resolve as he raised his arms, catching the blade on the chain between his wrists and forcing the boy to drop it into the dirt - run, Toshinori, just go! Izuku grinned, malicious and venomous, clutching tighter and then bending a leg up to plant a foot on the man's side, pressing into the ugly scar while All Might gritted his teeth against a cry of pain - I'm sorry, I'm trying, I'm sorry. The false - he's not false, he's the most wonderful person I know - hero looped the chain around the teen's ankle and wrenched sideways, gaining a yelp and causing Izuku to let go in favour of regaining his balance, which All Might took advantage of and elbowed the boy in the gut, then shoved at one shoulder to turn him enough to kick him to the ground. He was quick in reaching down and swiping the car keys that had spilled from the villain's pocket, hesitating for only a moment as he stared down at the boy before spinning around and dashing towards the car as fast as he could manage - yes, go!

A rush of relief battled with anger when the man got in the vehicle and started it up. Izuku was locked to the ground, struggling against an invisible force that held him down, letting that lying - incredible - man flee. He finally stopped squirming, slumping into the dust, breathing heavily. The knife lay a few feet from his grasp, glinting white in the shadows. Give up. It's game over.

"You're right," he said softly, and there was a surge of triumph - What? What are you doing? - too strong to suppress, easing onto his side and rubbing at his wrist. "It is game over, hero."

Izuku tugged at the hem of his glove, glee - dread - exploding in his chest as the fabric shifted and solidified into metal, tight around his hand and rising, moulding into some kind of weapon, a small disc rising up and loading into the firing device on the back of his hand. He tilted his head, steadied his arm, and fired.

The disc launched. It skittered across the ground, bouncing up and locking onto the metal underbelly of the moving car. You're going to kill yourself as well if you set that off!

Izuku smirked, poison in his eyes and danger in his smile, finger hovering above the trigger. "How tragic."

No-!

~

Uh, oops?