Archive of Our Own ^beta

Izuku didn’t really think anything of it when he had trouble sleeping. It was actually a regularly recurring problem he’d been having for a while. Izuku shuffled his feet, tiptoeing his way down the hallway, careful not to wake up any of his classmates. 

It was pretty late into the evening, so much so that it couldn’t even be considered night anymore. Last time he had checked, his clock had read four in the morning, and he still wasn’t tired. It was concerning, to say the least, but he had asked Recovery Girl for sleeping pills after a week or two of this. He looked even more tired than Shinsou, and that was saying something. 

His body just didn’t get tired. Not until it was time to go to school, and by that time he’d have to shuffle his way through his classes like a zombie. He’d be dead on his feet all day, only to get his second wind just as he was about to go to sleep. 

Izuku had gotten sick of it, and Aizawa-sensei had noticed it, so that’s how he got the pills. He went in the elevator, willing his body to get tired, as the elevator went down. 

I want to sleep. 

He wanted to be tired, so he could just sleep. He was sick of not sleeping, even though it gave him plenty of time to study and research Quirks to his heart's content. He knew it wasn’t healthy. The elevator gave a soft ding, as it stopped on the first floor. 

Izuku tried his best not to make noise as he went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He rummaged through the cabinets where he kept his pills. They weren’t strong or prescription, so he didn’t need to hide them from his classmates. He knew for a fact that Shinsou had been using them too on nights where he needed to sleep. 

Maybe he should stop by with one? Maybe they could hang out in Shinsou’s room until they got blissfully tired. Yeah...that was a good idea. He popped one pill in his mouth and took a sip of the water to swallow it easier. 

He brought the water and an extra pill with him to the elevator. He twitched as he waited for the elevator to stop at his floor. Conveniently he and Shinsou shared the same floor. He trudged over to Shinsou’s door and knocked. 

He didn’t have any time to wonder if Shinsou had somehow miraculously fallen asleep. The door opened quickly, and Shinsou blinked tiredly at him, and then he smiled. “I’m so glad God decided to create you,” 

Izuku broke out into a blinding grin. “You’re welcome, Hitoshi,” He replied, thrusting the pill and water into Shinsou’s hands. The other boy took his offering like it was candy. 

“Wanna play Minecraft?” Shinsou asked, moving so that Izuku could come inside. “I built you a house since the last time we played,” 

“Holy shit, of course, I’ll play,” Izuku smiled again, nearly tripping over his own feet as he went inside. Shinsou popped the pill in his mouth as Izuku walked past him. Shinsou went over and sat down on the edge of his bed. He handed Izuku the extra controller, and patted the empty space next to him. Izuku didn’t hesitate to plop down next to him with a smile. 

He joined the game and instantly found his way over to the house Shinsou had built for him. It wasn’t too far from where he had spawned, so it didn’t take long.

The house was small, but it did its job and looked cool at the same time. Inside was a bed, a crafting table, a furnace, and an assortment of chests. Upon inspection of the chests, Izuku came across newly crafted tools. There was even cooked meat, and cake in a different chest. 

“Hitoshi you crafted tools and food for me?” Izuku asked, glancing up at the boy in question. Shinsou scratched the back of his neck nervously, before giving Izuku a sheepish glance. 

“Y-yeah,” Shinsou replied, and Izuku pretended not to notice the slight dust of pink on his cheeks.

“You’re so sweet,” Izuku replied, leaning on Shinsou’s shoulder. “No one has ever crafted things for me,”

“I only did it because you never make yourself food and then you end up starving to death,” Shinsou grumbled, but Izuku was smiling. “You're not too different in real life either. You never eat unless I grab you something,” 

“Okay, okay,” Izuku mumbled, as he took out a sword and a pickaxe from the chest. “You may have a point.” 

“Damn straight,” Shinsou affirmed, as he ventured deeper into a cave. 

“Where are you?” Izuku asked, “I wanna mine there too,” 

“Oh, here,” Shinsou held out his hand for the controller, “I’ll take you there,” 

“Sweet,” Izuku smiled, handing it over to him. It only took Shinsou to find where he’d been, and Izuku got his controller back. The two ventured further into the cave, eventually coming across a massive pit of lava. Which Izuku fell into. Like an idiot.

“Ha! You died from lava, you noob!” Shinsou exclaimed, and Izuku pouted. 

“I’ll get my revenge,” Izuku declared, finding Shinsou again, and knocking him into the lava.

The two spent the better part of forty minutes fucking around on the map, killing each other mercilessly before Shinsou yawned.

“You tired?” Izuku asked as Shinsou decided to end the game. Shinsou nodded, and Izuku got up. “Good night, Hitoshi!” He said with a smile before he left.

“Good night, Izuku,” Shinsou mumbled tiredly, as Izuku closed the door behind him. Izuku rubbed at his eyes, but he didn’t feel all that tired. He chewed the bottom of his lip uselessly, before sighing. Maybe he should go to Recovery Girl for stronger pills? Or maybe he could ask Kirishima to knock him out? 

God, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t tired, but he wanted to sleep. He didn’t want the days to string together endlessly with no end in sight. He wanted to rest, but his body refused to give it to him. 

Izuku went back to his room, not the least bit tired as he glanced around. There was a little All Might merch in here. Not as much merch as there used to be, but there was a poster. The rest of his walls were bare. 

There was also an All Might figurine flexing on his desk next to his laptop. He made a beeline for his laptop immediately and sat down. Sitting before him was an essay that was definitely due in two weeks. Aizawa-sensei had given them the prompt but told them that they only needed to do research at this point. Of course, since he had a lot of time on his hands, he ended up starting it. 

And he’d let it get out of hand by accident. 

He was currently looking at a twenty-page document on what made the villain, a villain. In all honesty, his viewpoint could be called controversial at best. And he wasn’t really even answering the prompt rather than challenging society in general. 

His view on villains was a bit warped, but he was sure he’d get his point across by the end of it. 

Aizawa probably wasn’t thinking Izuku would go this route with the prompt. Well...at this point he was just rambling, and his essay didn’t even fit the prompt anymore. Oh well. 

He probably wouldn’t get the points for it, but his grades were near perfect. He could stand to lose some points because he got out of hand. 

His view on what made a villain was simple. It all came down to society. As a whole, society was responsible for creating all of the villains that roamed the streets today. They had twisted and warped everyone’s view of the world, telling everyone that only specific people could fit in. 

People with powerful, cool Quirks were allowed to live in the light, while people with scary, weak Quirks or no Quirk at all had to retreat to the shadows. Because society wouldn’t accept them. Society would burn them at the stake, for merely existing. Society would make sure they knew their place. And as a result, these shunned people would resort to their only option left. 

The only option society had left them. Villainy. 

Villainy wasn’t something people chose. It was something society forced them into, even if they didn’t know it. Society was indeed flawed, and it was everyone’s fault. Villains weren’t created by what they did, or the horrible atrocities they committed. 

It was all about how society as a whole treated them. 

So yeah… Izuku might fail this essay. He scrolled through the document, editing and revising until his alarm clock blared. Izuku shut off his computer and changed out of his pajamas after turning off his alarm. He didn’t sleep. God damn it. 

He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and comb his hands through his hair. He stared at his reflection tiredly. Of course,  he was tired now. When he needed to go to class. 

There were dark circles under his eyes, dark enough to rival Shinsou. He blinked, trying to rub the exhaustion out of his eyes. There was someone standing behind him, all black and fuzzy. Like Bloody Mary, and Izuku nearly passed out. 

Fear exploded from his chest, spreading and locking his limbs in place. There was a fucking monster standing behind him, looking in the mirror with glowing eyes. 

Izuku was frozen to his spot. He couldn’t even breathe, or contort his face in terror. Sweat pooled down his back, and goosebumps blossomed along his skin like poison. “Yo Mido!” Denki exclaimed as he entered the bathroom. 

The figure in the mirror disappeared instantly, and Izuku mentally took a deep shuddering breath. On the outside, he shot Denki a blinding smile before replying. 

“Morning Denki!” He said simply, with a wave. Denki waved back, and Izuku left. 

He made his way down to the common area and made himself a cup of coffee, trying not to think about the weird figure. Iida, Uraraka, Tsuyu, Momo, Jirou, and Shinsou were already up when he got down there. 

“Did you sleep at all, Midoriya?” Iida asked worriedly, his brow furrowing as Izuku settled himself on the couch, nursing his black cup of coffee. Izuku shook his head, blinking tiredly. 

“I couldn’t sleep, so I tried taking medicine, but nothing happened,” Izuku admitted, taking a sip of his scalding coffee. “I’m thinking about getting Kirishima to knock me out tonight so I can finally sleep,” 

“Oh, what a mood,” Shinsou grumbled, taking Izuku’s coffee out of his hand so he could take a drink of it. He didn’t even wince at the bitterness of it. Izuku shot him a heatless glare that said don’t-fucking-drink-my-coffee as Shinsou handed it back. 

“Wow Midoriya,” Jirou commented, with a laugh. “You’re really territorial over your coffee,” 

“Ya shoulda seen him before Yuuei,” Kacchan grumbled from down the now open elevator. “He punched me when one time when I tried to take his coffee,”

“You deserved it,” Izuku replied, with a shrug. “Don’t touch my fucking coffee, Kacchan,” 

“Damn right I won’t,” Kacchan mumbled, making himself a bowl of cereal. “I can’t stand black coffee,” 

Izuku had stopped listening. He was struck with a sudden realization that left him feeling like he’d been slapped. The figure he’d seen in the bathroom was almost exactly like one of the figures he’d seen during the Sports Festival. 

A holder of One for All. 

He was dead on his feet by the time he got the dorms, and he’d seen eight different figures throughout the day. He must’ve been hallucinating, or something. Sleep deprivation, maybe? Right now he was determined to change it. He changed quickly, before throwing himself on his bed. 

It took a few minutes for sleep to finally take him, but when it did he suddenly decided he was better off awake. 

The first thing he noticed was that it was dark here. It was dark, cold, and lonely. And a cold sense of fear washed over him, there was nothing. There was nothing. There was nothing.

For some reason, that fact alone had him trembling and breathing hard. It was cold, and unnatural here. This was a dream, but it felt dangerous. 

Izuku turned around, eyes scanning for a threat. It was here. He could feel it deep in his bones. He could hear soft warnings being whispered gently in his ears, like a mantra. His own instincts were telling him that something was wrong . 

That he should run. Or wake up. He needed to escape. 

Something was going to happen, but he didn’t know what. Izuku blinked rapidly, trying to see past the inky black of the dream. And then there were seven.

Seven people were standing beside him. Before him were two other people, but the seven beside him stood unmoving. Izuku watched, his eyes wide. One of the two was grabbing the other, a grin playing on their face that didn’t bode well with Izuku. It was a wide smile, all teeth, and predatory. 

Fear squeezed in his chest, and he choked on air. 

Izuku recognized this man.

Terror ravaged him. It ripped him open, clawing and ripping him up from the inside.

All for One. 

He wasn’t breathing. He couldn’t seem to get any air. He couldn’t move— He needed to move. He needed to run. He needed to wake up. His entire body seemed to be shaking, and he couldn’t move—

Suddenly the other man seemed to have gotten out of All for One’s iron-tight grip. This man reached toward him suddenly. Reaching. Reaching for him. Izuku watched himself reach back. Their hands connected and interlocked. All for One hadn’t moved from his spot.

“So...you’re...the ninth?”

This was a dream. It had to be, but Izuku never woke up from this dream. And All for One moved. This wasn't a dream. This was a nightmare. 

A nightmare that didn't end.

Hitoshi had ventured into Midoriya’s room after Iida pressured himself into doing so. Iida himself didn’t feel too comfortable doing it, so it fell to Hitoshi. He didn’t really mind doing this, but he’d much rather be sleeping. 

He wanted to follow Midoriya’s example of sleeping in. He opened the door to Midoriya’s room and noticed something off immediately. His alarm clock was going off, but he made no move to turn it off. Hitoshi went ahead and did it for him, getting increasingly annoyed as the alarm blared. 

“Izuku,” Hitoshi mumbled, coming to lean down to shake the boy awake. “Wake up,” 

Midoriya didn’t move, so Hitoshi shook him more vigorously, ignoring how his chest tightened almost instantly with freezing cold fear. “Izuku,” 

Nothing. There was no response, no grumbling, and groaning. No rolling around or mumbling. Hitoshi froze, sweating almost instantly. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Frantically he checked Midoriya’s pulse and watched him breathe. He tried to shake him again, but it was fruitless. His stomach dropped to his knees and his throat seemed to close on its own. 

“Hey man what’s taking so long—” Denki began, but Hitoshi looked at him, fear-stricken. 

“Call Aizawa,” He snapped desperately, checking Midoriya’s pulse again. His heartbeat was steady. He was breathing. But he didn’t wake up. 

“What—?” 

“Call Aizawa! Now!” Hitoshi snapped, standing suddenly. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm his shallow, quick breaths. “Shit,” 

“A-Ah,” Denki mumbled a million miles an hour into the phone. “Aizawa-sensei, it’s Midoriya!— He— I don’t know what’s going on!” 

Hitoshi snatched the phone from him. “I came into Izuku’s room to wake him up and he’s not responding at all. I tried to shake him, but there was nothing—” 

“Shinsou,” Aizawa replied, sounding surprisingly calm. There was shuffling on the other line. “Did you check his breathing and his pulse?” 

“Yeah! He’s alive, his pulse is steady, and his breathing is normal. He just won’t wake up!” Hitoshi yelled, suddenly angry. “What— What do I do?” 

“I’m already on my way, okay? I’m bringing Recovery Girl and Nedzu. Don’t move Midoriya, but don’t leave the room,” 

“O-okay,” Hitoshi breathed, trying to calm his endless shaking. “Okay, I can do that,” 

“Have Denki tell your classmates what’s happening and make sure they stay out of the way, okay?” Aizawa continued, his tone comforting and soft. Hitoshi nodded to himself before looking toward Denki. 

“Denki,” Hitoshi began, “Aizawa needs you to tell everyone what’s going on and to make sure no one’s in the way when Recovery Girl and Nedzu get here,” 

Denki nodded and disappeared down the hall. “Okay,” Aizawa mumbled, “Is there anything you can tell me about Midoriya’s condition? Did he act weird at all yesterday? When did he go to sleep last night? Did he take any medication?” 

“U-uh,” Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair. “He seemed really tired, and every time we’d walk past a mirror he seemed to get really pale, I don’t know why. He went to bed at like seven? He didn’t take anything. Usually, he brings me some pills if he does,” 

“Okay, so he just looks like he’s sleeping?” Aizawa asked, and Hitoshi was beginning to feel like this was getting repetitive. 

“Yeah,” Hitoshi affirmed for the umpteenth time. He took a hold of Midoriya’s hand and crouched down to be beside him. 

“We’re here,” Aizawa mumbled, and Hitoshi could hear him throwing the door open to the dorms. “I’m going to hang up,” 

Hitoshi gave a mumble in response to that, and the line went dead. Hitoshi took a deep, sobering breath. A few seconds later, Midoriya’s room had three new occupants. Recovery Girl wasted no time checking over Midoriya thoroughly, and Nedzu stood behind her, listing off plausible reasons. 

“There’s a forty-percent chance it’s from an infection. Twenty-percent chance from an accidental drug overdose,” Nedzu listed helplessly. “There’s no logical explanation,” 

“His vitals all seem to be normal, though his pupils won’t react to light. He’s somehow in a coma,” Recovery Girl said a second later, “We need to take him to the hospital,” 

“I-is he going to be okay?” Hitoshi asked, sounding frantic even to himself. Recovery Girl turned to him, her lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Until we learn what caused the coma, there’s not much we can do,” she admitted, before continuing on. “Aizawa, can you carry him? We have an ambulance we can use. Nedzu, will you go get it ready?” 

The bear, or rat, nodded before disappearing. Recovery Girl turned to Aizawa, and Aizawa tucked his arms under Midoriya’s knees and under his back. 

Hitoshi could hardly breathe. 

It took Tenya a minute to process what Denki had said. He came barreling out of the elevator like a bat out of hell, eyes wide and hair disheveled. Ashido had laughed at him before Bakugou turned to Denki. 

“Where’s the nerd and the insomniac?” He asked gruffly, shoveling a mouthful of cereal in his mouth. After a moment of silence from Denki, who stood there like a gaping fish, Bakugou raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s wrong, Denki?” Tenya asked, letting concern coat his tone. 

“U-u-um,” Denki sucked in a sharp breath. “Shinsou tried to wake him up, but he wasn’t responding...s-so he had me call Aizawa-sensei, and Recovery Girl and Nedzu are on their way now,” 

“What?” Uraraka exclaimed. 

“Is he okay?!” Sero asked, worriedly. 

“Oh my god,” Hagakure mumbled, “Oh shit.” 

“But he seemed fine last night,” Tenya mumbled, “What happened?” 

“I don’t know,” Denki mumbled, before continuing, “But Aizawa-sensei told me to make sure no one’s in the way when they get here.” 

Katsuki felt frozen as Aizawa-sensei burst through the door like someone had murdered his cat. He said nothing as he practically ran past them, and Recovery Girl came inside with the same state of mind. She rushed past them wordlessly. Nedzu was next, but he paused briefly. 

“Please don’t be alarmed, students,” He began, “Midoriya will be fine!” 

Katsuki didn’t believe him for a second. A sick, coiling feeling was filling his gut. Something was really wrong with Deku. He could already tell. 

The dorms were eerily silent as he and his classmates watched all three of them venture deeper into the dorms and then return a few minutes later. 

Aizawa looked even paler than before, and he didn’t even bother to open the door as he left. He just kicked it in like a mad man.

Shouta couldn’t stop shaking as they brought one of his students— children —into the hospital. Doctors had no idea what was wrong with him, even after five days of nothing. Izuku Midoriya was in a coma, for no apparent reason, with no remedy. Shouta was a wreck, as he stood by Midoriya’s bedside whenever he had the chance. 

Inko Midoriya was always crying when he came in, and sometimes he joined her. They had become close during these five days. Today, in particular, she was weepier than usual. She had a bundle of tissues in her hand, and she wiped at her eyes. 

“Ah, good afternoon, Aizawa-kun,” She said, brightening a bit as he entered. He offered her a weak smile, as he sat down in an empty chair. Midoriya’s heart rate was steady, and Shouta listened to it for a few precious seconds. 

Midoriya was fine. He was just sleeping. And sleeping. And sleeping. There had been no change in five days, but Shouta kept visiting. He kept Inko company just as much as she kept him company. 

“How are you, Ms. Midoriya?” He asked, placing his hand on Midoriya’s unmoving one. “Did anything change while I was gone?” 

“I’m fine,” Inko mumbled, “And nothing has changed since yesterday,” 

“Damn,” Shouta snapped, tightening his grip on Midoriya’s hand “I don’t understand,” 

“I feel like there should be a reason.” Inko chewed on one of her nails. “No one goes into a coma all on their own. There’s some angle that I haven’t thought of yet,” 

Shouta smiled slightly. “He gets his mumbling from you, I see. My class has been so quiet without it,” 

“He gets a lot of his little quirks from me,” Inko replied wistfully, but her tone turned sour. “The mumbling, the stuttering. Even the bad parts he got from me. His anxiety, his depression, his low self-esteem. He never got any of my good traits.” 

“Don’t say that, Ms. Midoriya,” Shouta said, giving her a stern look. 

“You’re right,” Inko sighed. “A lot of that got a lot worse because of his childhood,”

Shouta opted to remain silent. She was going on another tangent of hers. Much like Midoriya, once she got on a topic she seemed to analyze it to its most minute detail. He listened intently to her words. 

“He was bullied,” She said simply, but Shouta saw the way her shoulders stiffened. “Severely, might I add,” She took a deep breath. “He never told me, but I knew. I couldn’t— didn’t —do anything.” 

Shouta opened his mouth to contradict her, but she held up a hand and plowed onward. “When he was diagnosed as Quirkless, his father left us. He always wanted to be a hero. It was the only thing he ever talked about. It was the only dream he had. A few days after he was diagnosed, I found him crying. He asked me if—” She hiccuped with a cry, and she wordlessly grabbed a tissue. “If he could be a hero too, and do you want to know what I told my own son?” 

Shouta took a moment to look at her and nod. She wiped at her eyes and looked toward her son. 

“I told him I was sorry. I didn’t tell him he could do it. I didn’t encourage him. I just put him down, and crushed his only dream.” She snapped, angry at herself. “Izuku spent the next ten years holding on to the dying embers of his dream. Even when his childhood friend turned into his worst nightmare. Even when the entire world, his teachers— who turned a blind eye to the bullying —his classmates, his neighbors, and his mother, didn’t believe in him!” 

Shouta swallowed around the growing lump in his throat. “The world destroyed his dream. The world grabbed it, stomped on it, lit in on fire, and threw it back in his face. Society told him he was useless, worthless, annoying, a waste of space, Quirkless, and I stood idly by! I watched my son deteriorate right before my eyes. And I did nothing,” Inko was sobbing, ugly, wracking sobs. “I don’t even want to think about the suffering, the belittling, the self-loathing that he had to go through. And then— after all of that suffering, the world decided to rip him apart even more . A few months before he manifested his Quirk, All Might looked Izuku in the face when he asked if he could ever hope to be a hero…” 

“His whole world was crumbling . His life was so, so dark. He was hoping for a beacon. He was hoping for someone to finally, finally believe in him. And All Might was the final nail in the coffin. He told Izuku he could never be a hero. For my son, that was confirmation. That day, I saw the light truly die in his eyes. He had left the house after that day, got attacked by a villain, and then saved Bakugou from that same villain. All Might saw his heroic act and promised him that he could be a hero. 

“And— I don’t think Izuku would’ve been alive after that day if it weren’t for All Might. Sometimes I think back on it, and I realize how close I was to losing my child. I think about how bruised, and battered he’d be when he got home. I think about how small, defeated, and broken my baby looked. I think about how quiet, and anxious, and skittish he was, and I— I realize how lucky I am for him to still be here. I realize how lucky the world is because he decided, against all odds, that he was going to be a hero ,” 

Shouta listened to Inko with mounting horror. “Suicide rates for the Quirkless is sixty percent, Aizawa-kun. And that day, before All Might told him he could be a hero, he was that sixty percent. That day, my son was going to kill himself. I don’t know where, or how, but I remember those eyes. I know what a person looks like when they’ve lost all hope,” 

It took Shouta a moment to realize why he couldn’t see anything. He blinked past his tears and put his head in his hands. “Ms. Midoriya, can I tell you something?” he asked after a moment. 

“Yeah,” 

“Do you know I’ve heard stories so similar to your son’s, but from captured villains?” Shouta choked out, his hands trembling. “Usually, with villains, you can tell that they have a sob story. But with Midoriya I had no idea. I had no clue something like that had happened to him. He—” 

“He just seems so happy,” Inko interrupted, softly. “He seems happy to be alive. He seems happy to be able to save people…” 

She wiped away her fresh tears. “If anyone deserves to achieve their dream, it's my son. I’ll sacrifice anything to make that happen for him. I promised him when he got into Yuuei that I would never give up on him. I would never do what I did to him, ever again,” 

“Then let’s hope he wakes up so he can,” Shouta told her with a rare smile. That’s when Midoriya’s heart rate picked up. Suddenly the machine was screeching, and Midoriya was twitching. 

Shouta was up in an instant, and Inko stared wide-eyed at her son. He was seizing on the bed, and Shouta jumped into action, turning Midoriya on his side so he didn’t choke on his own spit. 

Green sparks flew out his skin, his Quirk activating. His eyes snapped open, and they were wrong. 

He gripped Shouta’s forearms with terrifying strength. His eyes were entirely neon green and sparking. Just like his Quirk. 

“All for One,” Midoryia began, his neon green eyes seeing nothing. “You won’t keep me trapped in this dream forever,” 

The entirety of class 1-A stood near the door, soaking every word Inko Midoriya said to Aizawa-sensei. 

The silence had been awkward, guilty, and heavy. And then… 

“All for One, you won’t keep me trapped in this dream forever,” They heard Midoriya choke out, as his heart rate screeched on the monitor. At that name, Hitoshi felt fear twist in his gut like poison and heard his classmates suck in a horrified breath.

Hitoshi risked a glance in the room from their hiding place, and he saw his father grabbing onto Midoriya. His eyes were glowing bright green, and Aizawa looked horrified and scared. Midoriya blinked, and fell back into the bed, in that state of eternal sleep once more.

And then, Hitoshi watched him flatline completely. The shrill, single-note scream of the heart monitor sent ice shooting through his veins. Hitoshi moved to go inside, but it was Iida who pulled him back. 

“It’ll do no good if we go inside now,” Iida explained gently, as doctors rushed inside, filling Midoriya’s silent room with noise. 

 The sound of Midoriya flatlining was enough to fill the silence among 1-A. Hitoshi watched with wide eyes as they managed to resuscitate him in time.

The class collectively let out a sigh of relief when Midoriya stabilized again, and his steady heart rate resumed.

Five days. 

For five days, he and All for One fought, fist for fist, blow for blow. 

“Come on, get up,” All for One spat. Izuku got up, readying his fists, and pushing twenty percent of One for All. His skin sparked and crackled with the raw energy, and he rushed forward. He swung his fist, aimed for All for One’s nose. 

All for One caught it, twisted his arm, and sent him flying through the air. Pain splintered in his vision like white sparks, as his arm snapped. He stumbled back to his feet, as his arm clicked into place again. He couldn’t die in this dream. 

It was an eternal battle. “Use all one hundred percent, Izuku!” All for One yelled, “Come at me with your full power!”

Izuku grit his teeth. Maybe, if he managed to kill All for One he could escape this hell. Maybe he could be free. He pushed past the fear that had made a permanent residence in his heart. He wouldn’t give up. 

Izuku was supposed to be the Symbol of Hope. If he fell here he couldn’t achieve his goal. His body burned and creaked with power. Just holding that much power was going to rip him apart, but he had to try. 

One for All Full Cowling, 100%

“All for One,” Izuku began, “You won’t keep me trapped in this dream forever,” 

He’d been dying for days now. Every second of every day, he’d been dying. According to All for One, this was day seven. He had long since stopped fighting him. The room All for One had conjured up in the dream was red with his blood. Izuku coughed as his wounds stitched themselves together. 

The slow, methodical steps of All for One echoed in the empty room. His cruel laugh rang in his ears, like the aftershock of a bomb. Izuku swallowed his fear and replaced it with the burning rage he’d been building up for days.

“Come on!” He said, giving a slow clap. “You can do better than that, Izuku Midoriya! You’re the ninth holder, after all!” 

Scars marred his flesh. Scars he’d gotten from this dream. Scars All for One had so kindly given him. Crawling to his feet, Izuku fired up One for All again. He was starting to get tired. Every time All for One threw him to the ground, his bones snapping and splintering, it got harder to stand.

Right now even, his body was trembling, and his muscles aching. Blood seemed to be splattered on him for all eternity, and he couldn’t find a way out. Every time he died, he hoped he’d wake up in his room. Each time, he was horrified to realize that it wasn’t over. It would never be over. 

All for One kept telling him that. It won’t end. This is what it means to be a successor of One for All, Izuku. Endless bloodshed. Endless death, and destruction. The battle will never end. Neither will this dream, until your real body deteriorates into nothing. 

He opened his mouth to retort, but blood spilled from his lips unbidden. It splattered wetly on the ground, in thick chunks. Izuku shuddered and refused to look at it. He struggled to keep standing, as his body betrayed him. Blood filled his mouth, tasting sharply of iron, and sticky, and he threw it up on his shirt. He wiped his chin, feeling sick.

“My dear boy,” All for One grumbled as if annoyed with him. “Show me your true strength! Give it your all! Give me one hundred percent once more!” 

I want to wake up. 

All for One laughed. “You know you can’t escape—” He stopped short, his black curly hair bouncing as he over his shoulder at something. There was nothing there. Izuku scrambled to use this moment of distraction to his advantage. Get out, get out!

He slipped on his own blood as he willed the room away completely. Izuku looked around desperately, for an exit. There was no way there wasn’t an exit. Izuku shot forward, using twenty percent of One for All. There has to be an exit. 

But All for One was faster . Izuku didn’t even realize All for One was choking him until he heard the same cruel laugh he’d been hearing for seven days. He was going to be sick. His hand clamped down on his throat, and Izuku struggled to breathe.

“It seems we have a spectator, but no matter.” All for One began, and Izuku clawed uselessly at All for One’s thick fist. He struggled to breathe, black spots dancing in his vision. “Maybe your classmates and teachers will want to hear this,” 

The dream-world around him whirled and tilted as All for One slammed him into the concrete with inhuman strength. He heard, more than felt, his bones crack and splinter. He finally felt the searing pain a few seconds later. All for One’s laugh was drowned out but his ragged scream.

All for One crossed his arms with a smile, as Izuku lay limp on the ground. He liked to watch as Izuku’s body cracked and popped as it rebuilt itself. “Up, up,” He said, clapping with each word. 

“What—” His throat was still regenerating. In the dream-world, he soon realized he couldn’t die no matter what. He spat blood and sucked in another breath. “What do you—” 

Finally, his throat snapped into place. “What is it, my boy?” All for One asked, leaning down to touch Izuku’s shoulder as it popped back in place audibly. Izuku pushed him away weakly, fear sparking in his gut like a fire. 

He’d learned to fear those hands, and the new face All for One seemed to have. It didn’t betray a thing. He learned to fear the smiles and the way his eyes crinkled at the edges right before he— 

“What do you mean, we have a spectator?” He tried to keep his fear at bay, as All for One lunged for him. He didn’t have a chance to dodge as All for One’s hand clamped down on his chin and dragged him up, off his teeth. His breath came fast and short, and he looked at All for One with terrified eyes. 

Fear splintered down his spine, freezing his fingers and face. Burning terror burned in his chest, like an eternal flame. 

His jaw creaked and cracked. Pain laced through his face, and his eyes widened even more. A broken whine made itself known in the base of his throat. “I mean just that.” All for One explained, probably reveling in Izuku’s pathetic noises as his jaw crumbled beneath his hand. “It’s a Quirk named Dreamcatcher. It allows the user to touch someone who is sleeping, and project the dream out of their eyes. Like a movie. I know you like Quirks, Izuku. What do you think of Dreamcatcher?” 

Blood squirted under All for One’s hand, and he tsked in annoyance, letting Izuku drop to the ground. “I forget how fragile the human body can be, my apologies,”

Blood pooled out of his face, and he didn’t try to stop it. His jaw began to shift, and click as All for One sped up the dream-healing process with the help of one of his many Quirks. 

“Well?” the ancient man snapped, crossing his arms. “I asked you a question, Izuku. You know better than not to answer,” 

“I-I—” 

“Don’t stutter, you sound like Inko. It drives me insane,” All for One growled, a scowl pulling at his lips. He could taste the annoyance in All for One’s words.

“Right.” Izuku snapped, his eyes flashing with malice. “I think it’s an incredibly rare Quirk. As for yours, I think it’s a fucking waste of potential. You obviously have on clue how to use it—”

He was missing an arm and a leg in an instant. His roar of pain was guttural and low, ripping at his vocal cords. All for One rolled his wrist out, as Izuku landed roughly in a screaming heap. Pain shot through him like lightning.

“Oh spare me the dramatics, Izuku.” All for One snapped, squatting in Izuku’s ever-growing pool of blood. “You can’t die in here. I created this dream specifically so you wouldn’t,” 

That doesn't mean I don’t feel pain. That doesn’t mean this isn’t agony.

“I don’t care if it hurts, Izuku.” All for One mumbled, his tone suggesting that he was talking to a child. “Look at me,” 

Izuku was looking at anything other than this man. This monster. He looked out into the inky blackness, wishing it would just be over. His limbs grew back, but the mental scars didn’t disappear. His body radiated with pain. He couldn’t move. “I said look at me, you ungrateful child!”

Izuku whimpered uselessly, as All for One snarled and forced him to look. “Don’t you want to know why you’re stuck here?” 

He sniffled, biting back his tears unsuccessfully. He shook his head weakly, and All for One laughed again. 

“I’m sure our audience would love to know,” All for One pressed on like he was speaking about the weather. “It’s because I want you to become a villain,” 

Izuku let out a sobbing laugh that sounded broken and defeated even to him. 

“Me? A villain?” He asked through his sobs, trembling. “You’d have an easier time killing god, rather than convince me to switch sides. I didn’t peg you for an idiot, All for One. Well, I guess I can’t blame you, seeing as you are two hundred years old and on your last leg. You’re probably missing a few marbles too. Maybe All Might knocked a few screws loose, old man? I’m not becoming a villain. Fuck. You.”  

Oh. Oh no.

All for One looked grim with anger. Izuku went pale, and scrambled backward on his hands, using his heels to propel himself backward. His eyes went wide, and wet with tears. The way All for One was looking at him made him want to disappear. He hadn’t meant to say all of that out loud. It had just happened. Fear reared its ugly head like a monster, gripping him with her cold, unforgiving claws. 

He choked on it, drowned in it, and— 

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god—

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said— or screamed? He wasn’t thinking he was panicking. He couldn’t decipher his own desperate pleas. His hands shook, and his eyes were wet. “Please. Please, I’m sorry,” 

Izuku’s breathing was ragged. His chest heaved, up and down, up and down. His breathing was loud in the silence. “I-I— I didn’t mean to say that— Please, please.” He scrambled back farther, even though there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.

All for One sent a glare over his shoulder, at where Izuku assumed the spectator was. “Get out, now.”  

God, if he could’ve peed in this dream-world, it would’ve been now. Every instinct was telling him to run, to escape. “All for One please,”  

The man didn’t listen to him. Next to him, a metal chair with straps flickered into existence. Izuku’s throat bobbed and he couldn’t stop the sob from leaving his throat, unbidden. “N-no,” He squeezed his eyes shut, “No, p-please,” 

“No one can save you here,” All for One snapped, grabbing a fistful of Izuku’s curly hair. “Chair. Now.” 

Izuku snapped his eyes open. While All for One showed no outward signs of anger anymore, that meant nothing compared to the pure unadulterated displeasure pulsing from him. Izuku found that he couldn’t speak, or beg for his life. He could barely swallow past the lump forming in his throat. 

He climbed into the chair quickly, not to be the one to disobey All for One more than he already had. The cold metal bit into his skin, like fire as All for One tightened the leather straps around his throat, wrist, and ankles. A sharp crack rang through the air and sucked in a breath as fire burned through his finger. 

“Is that not enough for you?” 

Another crack. Another finger. A scream. Izuku panted as soon as his screaming subsided. His fingers clicked back into place, and Izuku watched All for One with fearful eyes. All for One conjured a blindfold and tightened it around his eyes so he couldn’t see anything. He could only feel, and scream . 

All for One smiled, and that’s all Izuku could see as he reached his hand in Izuku’s chest. A disturbing crack filled his ears, ringing. The pain was unlike any he’d felt before. His body seized up horribly, and there was a disgusting squelching sound, as All for One—

With each twist, Izuku wordlessly gaped and seized. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t even scream—

And then All for One pulled back, with something in his hand. Something that was still beating, but spewing blood everywhere. 

His brain didn’t seem to be able to catch up for a moment, but when it did, Izuku let out an ear-splitting scream.

Hitoshi and the rest of his classmates were all crowded in Midoriya’s hospital room, along with Midoriya’s mother, Yagi-san, and Aizawa-sensei. Hitoshi had brought him some flowers for his bedside, and the rest of his classmates had gotten a variety of things. 

Bakugou had gotten him a new All Might hoodie, that Hitoshi could totally see the boy wearing. Some had crafted some special cards and got him smaller gifts. They were all placed next to a sniffling Inko Midoriya, and she thanked them profusely, wiping at her endless tears. 

Hitoshi couldn’t help but feel his chest swell with warmth as he looked at her. Midoriya took after her so much. With his smiles made of sunlight and adoration. With his bright, loving eyes. The way his mere presence lit up an entire room and filled every occupant with a sense of hope and excitement. 

Midoriya had gotten all of that from his mother, and then some. He was so good, so pure, so light, so beautiful. He was their Symbol of Hope. He burned so brightly, and so fiercely, that Hitoshi knew it would never go out. One day, Midoriya would be the number one hero, and the rest of them would be looking up at him. He would raise them up, and make the world happier, and safer. 

That’s why Hitoshi believed he’d make it out of this. He believed that Midoriya would wake up, smile, and tell them that he was going to be okay. Of course, he probably wouldn’t be okay for a while, but Hitoshi had hope. 

He’d be at Midoriya’s side for as long as Midoriya wanted him. 

“Uhm,” A high, silk-like voice murmured suddenly. “Eraserhead, you said you needed assistance?” 

At the same time, all of his classmates turned their heads. There, the doorway was a woman with short, curly blue hair. She was short, and her skin was unnaturally pale. She curled one of her ringlets around her finger nervously. 

“I-I’m the sidekick named Dreamer?” she mumbled, shifting on her feet nervously, glancing at their teacher. Aizawa-sensei stood instantly, with a sharp nod. 

“I want you to use your Quirk on him,” Aizawa said stiffly, moving aside so Dreamer could sit down. 

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” Dreamer replied, licking her lips nervously. Her hand reached to intertwine with Midoriya’s unmoving one. She took a deep, steadying breath. Her eyes snapped open, glowing a bright blue. Suddenly there was a projection on the wall, and Midoriya and Dreamer gasped audibly in unison from nearby the bed. 

Hitoshi turned his attention to the dream being projected. At first, there was nothing but static. And then there was a voice. The video flickered before finally turning on. 

“It seems we have a spectator, but no matter. Maybe your classmates and teachers will want to hear this,” 

Hitoshi watched as All for One slammed Midoriya into the ground. His bones cracked audibly, and Ms. Midoriya took a sharp intake of breath.

“Ms. Midoriya,” Aizawa rasped, suddenly looking very sick. “You probably shouldn’t be present for this. Neither should any of you,” At the last part he looked at his students.

“He’s my son, Aizawa-kun,” Ms. Midoriya told him, and Aizawa didn’t push it. Aizawa instead turned to glare at his students. 

“This is something students shouldn’t see,” He told them gruffly, but Bakugou was the first to speak. 

“Up, up,” All for One said, clapping with each word. 

“There’s no way I’m not going to see this. If he’s suffering—” Bakugou began. 

“What— What do you—” There was wet croaking, before a sharp click .

Bakugou’s head snapped to the screen, and he seemed to pale. Hitoshi watched as Midoriya’s throat regenerated. “If he’s suffering I want to be by his side,” Bakugou finished. 

“What is it, my boy?” 

Hitoshi didn’t miss the flicker of fear in Midoriya’s eyes.

“Yeah, we’re not going anywhere,” Sero told Aizawa, even though he looked like he was going to need a trash can soon enough.

“What do you mean, we have a spectator?”

 “I mean just that.” All for One explained, crushing Midoriya’s face. “It’s a Quirk named Dreamcatcher. It allows the user to touch someone who is sleeping, and project the dream out of their eyes. Like a movie. I know you like Quirks, Izuku. What do you think of Dreamcatcher?” 

Blood squirted under All for One’s hand. “I forget how fragile the human body can be, my apologies,”

Hitoshi felt sick, watching Midoriya regenerate his face, his eyes glazed with pain. The two talked for a few seconds, as Midoriya’s jaw snapped into place. 

“Don’t stutter, you sound like Inko. It drives me insane,” All for One growled, a scowl pulling at his lips. 

Hitoshi frowned. 

“What an asshole!” Ashido exclaimed, pouting despite looking like she wanted to vomit. In fact, everyone looked ready to throw up. From fear or disgust it remained to be seen. “Midoriya’s mumbling is what makes him Midoriya!”

Even Todoroki was nodding at that. On-screen, Midoriya looked livid.

“Right. I think it’s an incredibly rare Quirk. As for yours, I think it’s a fucking waste of potential. You obviously have on clue how to use it—”

“Oh my god he did not just insult All for One,” Uraraka breathed, trembling. Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes, and Hitoshi blinked past his own as Midoriya blinked, and he was missing limbs. He seemed not to notice for a second.

His screams cut through the hospital room like knives. Everyone seemed to shrink in on themselves. Even Yagi looked more sickly than usual. 

“You fucking idiot!” Bakugou grumbled, eyes wide with panic, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh spare me the dramatics, Izuku.” All for One snapped. “You can’t die in here. I created this dream specifically so you wouldn’t,” 

“Look at me,” 

“I said look at me, you ungrateful child!” There was a long pause. “Don’t you want to know why you’re stuck here?” 

Hitoshi didn’t miss the way Yagi-san, Ms. Midoriya, and Aizawa-sensei straightened at that. 

“I’m sure our audience would love to know,” All for One pressed on, like he was speaking about the weather as Midoriya shook his head violently. “It’s because I want you to become a villain,” 

“Me? A villain? You’d have an easier time killing god, rather than convince me to switch sides. I didn’t peg you for an idiot, All for One. Well, I guess I can’t blame you, seeing as you are two hundred years old and on your last leg. You’re probably missing a few marbles too. Maybe All Might knocked a few screws loose, old man? I’m not becoming a villain. Fuck. You.” 

“Young Midoriya…” Yagi breathed in horror. “Oh no.” 

“T-tell me he didn’t just—” Denki began, but was cut off by Midoriya’s instant panic and horror. They grimaced as a whole, watching him slowly realize the words that had left his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Please. Please, I’m sorry. I-I— I didn’t mean to say that— Please, please.” 

“Get out, now.” All for One turned to face them in the projection. 

Dreamer choked on air, and the projection flickered. There was no video, but there was audio. Heartbreaking audio.

“All for One, please. N-no. No, p-please.” 

A shrill, ear-splitting scream pierced the air, along with a wet, sobbing sound.

It cut off, leaving Hitoshi shaking. There was a tense minute or so of nothing but still silence in Midoriya’s hospital room, except for Dreamer's heavy breathing. Except for Ms. Midoriya’s broken sobs. 

And it took him a second to realize that he was crying too. His shoulders shook, and his hands came up to cover his face. He was hiccuping with sobs, and tears streamed down his face, hot and heavy. Something heavy twisted in his gut like poison.

Arms wrapped around him, and for a second he had assumed it was probably Denki or Uraraka. That was until he felt Aizawa-sensei’s capture weapon graze his cheek. “D-dad,” He began pathetically, trying to quell the shaking. 

“I know,” Aizawa stroked his hair comfortingly, “I know,” 

Hitoshi sobbed uselessly into his father’s shoulder. “H-He’s hurting,” He choked out, “He’s alone,” 

The dorms were eerily silent as the entirety of 1-A stood around aimlessly. Doing nothing. Thinking of nothing but that last shrill scream that seemed to freeze all of them to the spot. Shouta decided tonight that he would allow them to stay up as long as they wanted. He was standing around the kitchen, watching them. 

Never in his life had he seen his students so haunted and horror-stricken. Midoriya was truly the unifying force of 1-A, and without him, everything felt broken.

Tenya found Uraraka crying in her room. 

“C-can I come in, Ochako?” He asked tentatively, his eyes wet with his own tears. 

There was no response, but the door swung open a second later. Tenya didn’t even wait. He crushed her in a hug before she could even open her mouth to say anything.

Katsuki stared blankly at the wall for two hours, and Kirishima leaned heavily into him. He said nothing. He didn’t try to move him or snap at him. He was too busy trying to keep himself from crying in front of all his classmates. 

“Y-ya know,” Kirishima said quietly, sniffling. “It’s manly to cry, Bakubro, if you wanna,” 

“Fuck off, Kirishima,” Katsuki grumbled, putting his head in his hands. Kirishima stayed beside him, silent as Katsuki took a few, shuddering breaths. 

“It seems our little spectator is back, Izuku.” All for One told him after what felt like weeks. He was still strapped to the chair, but All for One moved to free him. Izuku didn’t move his gaze from his feet. Nor did he make any move to actually get up. “Oh? Have you given up?” 

Izuku clenched his jaw. He was so tired. He was so exhausted. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to be far away from here, and far away from All for One. The man pulled him by the arm and threw him to the ground. The chair disappeared and so did the dried blood beneath it. His blood. 

Steeling himself once more, he got on trembling feet. He pushed the despair and defeat away. He couldn’t give up. Not yet. Izuku still had some determination left. 

“No,” Izuku snapped angrily, even as his feet buckled beneath him. “I won’t give up,” 

“Where do you get this endless determination?” All for One asked, peering at him curiously. Izuku met him eye to eye. “It comes in abundance with you…” 

He didn’t respond. His knees were knocking together, and he fell again. All for One let out a barking laugh. “I see,” He began, as Izuku tried to get up again, only to fail.

“I didn’t think you to be a liar, little hero,” All for One smiled, an ugly, predatory one. “You can’t even stand. You’ve given up,” 

“I haven’t,” Izuku growled, trying his best not to cry because All for One might be right. He’d been in this hell for eight days. Eight days of pain, of death. Eight days of getting his bones crushed. Eight days of fighting and crawling and begging.  “I’m not giving up,” 

All for One sighed heavily, crouching down to be eye-level with Izuku. He flinched back, trying to scramble to his feet. But he just couldn’t stand, he let out a choked sob. “Why?” He whispered, his voice broken. “Why I can’t… What did you do?”  

“I did nothing,” All for One promised, placing a gentle hand in Izuku’s hair. “You’ve just given up, whether you believe it or not,” 

“I’m not giving up,” He mumbled, trembling. Maybe he had given up. His body was betraying him. He couldn’t even stand, and yet he was fighting. 

“You stand alone,” All for One spat, and Izuku ignored how those words ripped open a yawning fissure in his chest. How his sobs finally made their way to the surface, how depression held him in a vice grip.

“I don’t care,” Izuku leveled the man with a glare, spitting on his shiny black shoes. “I’m getting out of here, no matter what, All for One,” 

“But why?” All for One asked him gently, ignoring the spit on his impeccable shoes. Izuku stiffened as he cupped Izuku’s chin in his hand. “You know first-hand how heroes are. You know how self-centered and cruel they can be. You know exactly how society taints everyone,” 

Izuku opened his mouth to snap a retort, but All for One silenced him with a smile. It was sharp and amused. Like he knew something Izuku didn’t. And it made Izuku freeze. “Don’t give me that look, young man,” 

Izuku couldn’t argue with him. His childhood was a prime example of what society did to people. He knew how the world beat him down, and down again. He could still remember the nights where he cried his eyes out, reaching toward an impossible dream. He remembered how he had been calling for help. How he begged for someone to take his hand, and answer his call. No one ever heard it. It didn’t reach anyone’s ears, and he drowned because of it. 

He was alone.

With a wave of his hand, All for One conjured snippets of these memories. 

“I’m afraid he has the extra toe joint in his pinky toe. Your son is Quirkless,” 

“Can I be a hero too, mama?” 

“I’m so sorry Izuku!” 

“Quirkless…? He’s probably going to die,” 

“Oh come on, didn’t anyone tell you that being Quirkless meant you were useless?” 

“You’re worthless!” 

“Damn, how are you still breathing? Just give up already!”

“You can’t be a hero. Give it up before you die. Not that you’ll live long to begin with,” 

“You’re annoying. Why don’t you just kill yourself?” 

“I know! Why don’t you just take a swan dive off the roof, Deku? Maybe then you’ll get a Quirk in your second life,” 

“Look, Quirkless is at it again. Trying to be a hero.” 

“He’s going to die fast.” 

“I’m so sorry you’re Quirkless, Izuku,” 

“Don’t talk to him. He’ll make you Quirkless,” 

“What a fucking loser,” 

“Can’t he get a hint?” 

“Just give up already.” 

“Did you hear about that suicide pact between those Quirkless people? Did you miss the train? Are you that good for nothing?” 

“Give up, kid.” 

“There’s no point, just give it up before you hurt yourself,” 

“There’s no way you can do it. It’s impossible,” 

“Reach for something more attainable,” 

“C-can someone like me ever hope to be a hero?” 

“No. I’m afraid it isn’t possible, Young Midoriya,” 

“I heard that the suicide rate for Quirkless kids is sixty percent before they reach adulthood! They say Quirkless people don’t even live to sixteen! How are you still alive? Shouldn’t you just die already?” 

“What use are you to society?” 

“You’re worthless. You’re useless,” 

“Waste of space!”

“Quirkless loser,” 

Izuku covered his ears hopelessly. He could still hear their insults ringing in his head, their words another nail in the coffin. Another puncture wound in his heart, slowly killing him from the inside out.

“Don’t you see?” All for One said gently, forcing Izuku to look at him. “You fought tooth and nail just to have a chance. You stomached every blow and jab. You stood tall, as the world around you wanted you to fall. Even when you stood alone, in the sea of people that thought you were better off dead, you protected your dying ember of a dream. You desperately fanned your sputtering flame, hoping someone would light you up again. You held out the hope that someone, anyone, would believe in you. And they never did. Izuku, you didn’t die, when the world told you to. You didn’t falter. You didn’t fall. You kept calling for help. None ever came. Even today, your bleeding, and screaming for someone to save you! Do you think anyone is listening? Why can’t you hear them calling for you? It’s because no one can hear you! They choose to let you fall! The darkness will fall upon you, Izuku, and they won’t give you any light,” 

“You can call all you want, but you’re going to drown,” 

Izuku sobbed, trying to wipe at his endless tears. All for One was right. All of this was true. No one could hear his pain. No one cared.

“Do you not understand?!” All for One exclaimed, “Do you all—” he gestured wildly to Izuku, the eight unmoving figures, and presumably to the spectator. “—need a visual representation?!” 

He looked at him fearfully, unsure of what he meant.

“Annoying Deku,” All for One growled, and a ball and chain appeared on both of his ankles. More words spilled from this throat, and his body felt heavier and heavier. Each word added an impossibly heavy weight. Izuku sobbed as each word twisted the knife deeper in his chest.

Each new shackle, each new ball, and chain sent searing pain down his spine. It made his mouth fill with blood.

“Stupid,” A chain connected between his ankles, restricting his movement. Blood splattered wetly from his lips.

“Stop,” Izuku growled, his limbs getting heavier with each word. He couldn’t see past his tears. “Stop it,” 

“Loser,” All for One continued like he hadn’t spoken. His ankles got even heavier if that were possible.

“Worthless,” His wrists met of their own accord, and chains wrapped around them. So heavy. White-hot pain exploded in his vision, and he hissed, as it pounded again and again like the steady beat of a war drum

“Useless,” A heavy ball and chain attached itself to his restrained wrists, and god it was so heavy . He was bleeding, it spilled from his eyes instead of regular tears.

He couldn’t move any part of his body. He was too heavy. He was already too fucking heavy. 

“Stop,” He begged, afraid to be at All for One’s mercy. He couldn't stomach hearing that word. Not again. Not when people said it like it was poison. “Stop, I can’t—” 

“And lastly, but certainly not least,” All for One smiled like he was proving his point. Izuku tried to see past his tears. “Quirkless,” 

Quirkless. Quirkless. Quirkless. Quirkless. Quirkless. Quirkless. Quirkless. 

There was an iron collar around his neck, a weight attached to the chain, a ball. His entire body slammed into the ground, as the weight came crashing down on him. The chains made it impossible to move. He tried to sit up, at least, but he couldn’t . 

“Now,” All for One began softly, “Can you try to sit up?” 

Izuku couldn’t . It was like gravity was pulling him down. He could barely stay in a crawling position. Pain laced through him. “Can you move at all?” 

“I don’t see the point,” Izuku croaked, his forehead pressing into the cold ground beneath him.  “What’s the point? Why are you doing this?” 

“Can you move at all?” All for One repeated, sounding agitated. “Answer the question,” 

“Yeah,” Izuku managed to say, past his tears. “I can move,”

“Prove it,” 

Izuku shifted himself forward slightly, his chains slowing him down exponentially. Each movement sent hot pain down his spine like boiling water. Quirkless. Useless, Worthless. Waste of space. Loser. 

“You can move, but only a little,” All for One explained like he was teaching a lecture. “While everyone else is standing, and free of chains, you must move forward in life like this. It takes all your strength just to crawl forward. The pain must be unbearable . Everyone else is sprinting while you have to crawl.” 

“Are you comfortable?” 

Izuku was beginning to understand. And it hurt. It hurt that he understood. He shook his head, choking back a pathetic sob. 

“Do you like this?” 

Another shake of his head. 

“Are you happy? Can you live your entire life like this? Bearing this impossible weight? Can you do it?! Do you want to be alive, if being alive means you must live like this? Under other people’s feet? At their mercy? In endless pain?” All for One asked, crouched down beside him. “Can you function like this? Can you take anymore of this? If I add more weight will you even be able to breathe?” 

Izuku shook his head, still struggling to even be on his hands and knees. 

“I can’t hear you,” All for One growled. 

“No,” He whispered. “I can’t,”

“Not loud enough,” 

“No,” He said louder this time, “I can’t. I can’t take anymore, don’t add any more. Please . It’s too heavy, it hurts,” 

“This is what will happen to you if you go into the Hero Industry,” All for One told him. “If anyone ever finds out that you were Quirkless, they’ll turn their backs on you. They’ll abandon you just like everyone else. No one will be by your side. You will stand alone.”

Quirkless. Quirkless. Quirkless. 

“Do you want to be alone?” All for One asked, bringing his hand to rest on Izuku’s nest of green curls. 

“N-no,” Izuku admitted. 

“No one wants to be alone,” All for One affirmed, softly. “I won’t leave you, Izuku.” 

Izuku gritted his teeth. “Shut up, that’s a lie,” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Izuku,” All for One promised, ruffling his hair. Izuku was too heavy to move. He was in too much pain. He felt disgusting whenever All for One touched him. He hated it. “I won’t ever lie to you, unlike these useless heroes,” 

Izuku gritted his teeth. This is what he wants me to think. He wants me to think he’ll treat me better than them. He wants me to think I can’t handle this weight. I can’t give him the satisfaction.

He pushed away his feelings of self-loathing. He pushed everything away and snarled at this monster of a man. He couldn’t let him low self-esteem allow All for One to get his way. These chains were heavy. The pain was too much, but he’d been living with this his entire life.

“Stop talking! Stop spitting your poisonous fucking lies!” Izuku yelled loudly, ignoring the pain, and the blood that seeped from his shackles. He ignored how the force of gravity nearly pushed him down again. “You’re literally lying to me right now! If I join you you’ll lie to me! You’ll hurt me, and twist me like you twisted Tenko I won’t join you. I won’t subject myself to that. I believe in the heroes and I don’t believe in you,”

“So you’d rather live in a world where they’ll do that to you?” All for One asked, gesturing to Izuku’s weights and chains. 

Izuku swayed uneasily on his feet, determination burning through his face. His head felt heavy, but he smiled anyway.

“I’ve been living like this my entire life!” He yelled, and he heard something cracking. The ground shuddered underfoot, as his anger flared. “I’ve been standing on my own all my goddamn life! Despite this weight. Despite the words they threw at me. I was so close to just throwing myself off of a roof. I was so close , but even before All Might came to me, telling me I could be a hero, I decided to give it one more day. I wouldn’t give the world the fucking satisfaction. I turned my anger, my spite, my sadness, and my self-loathing into determination. Every time someone wronged me it left me bleeding, but I turned it against them. That’s why I have endless determination, Kansei. I turn my pain into determination, and I have more pain than you’ve ever experienced. Every day is more painful than the last, but it won’t kill me. I will bear this pain, this weight, if it means that one day I can stop people from feeling the way I do! I will be a hero who will save the people society decided to shun. I will be the Hero for the hopeless. I will be the Hero for the broken. Your words are useless!” The sky shattered like glass, and he let his anger, his pain, explode. 

If his skin burned with green sparks, he didn’t notice. He didn’t notice One for All activating itself. Beyond one hundred percent. Beyond the conceivable. “But I’m not alone anymore. I have people who believe in me, and love me Kansei.” 

The ground was disappearing, this dream was imploding, but Izuku didn’t care. He grabbed All for One’s face, cupping his cheeks. His smile was kind. His eyes were soft. 

“What about you, Kansei?” he asked, his voice sounding more like eight than just one. 

He barely registered the eight predecessors disappearing, but he did notice the people who replaced them. 

“Do you have a family? Do you have people who will catch you when you fall? Do you have people who will break your chains?”

His classmates, his mother, All Might, Aizawa-sensei. Hitoshi. They all surrounded the both of them.

Izuku laughed, it was a cruel sound, grating on his own ears. All for One said nothing, as chains appeared on every part of his immortal body, pulling him down.

“You are the one that truly stands alone. Not me. You’re going to rot in Tartarus. You will die there, alone.”

His chains snapped and fell away. All for One fell to his knees. The weight was still there, but it was lessened significantly. Izuku leaned down to be level with him. 

The dream exploded. 

There was nothing. Nothing but the black of his nightmare until he heard a voice. “It’s time to wake up, Izuku,” Shinsou mumbled, appearing before him with a relieved smile. Izuku smiled too.

“Yeah! C’mon Deku!” Uraraka said, and she too flickered into existence. More voices spoke up, and each time another classmate came back into existence. 

“That was super manly, dude!” 

“You scared everyone, kero,” 

“You were super sparkly!” 

“Gave the teach a heart attack, ya damn nerd,” 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Young Midoriya,” 

“Don’t ever do that again, problem child,” 

“I’m so glad you're okay, Izuku!” 

“So does this mean I can’t take a nap after I wake up?” Izuku asked, with a slight laugh. 

“Please don’t,” Shinsou begged, “I’ll get you coffee,” 

“Oh fucking deal,” Izuku replied, as Shinsou slung his arm around Izuku’s shoulder. They all started to walk. “Can you do my homework too?”

“You aren’t going to have any homework for a while, Midoriya,” Aizawa grumbled, crossing his arms. 

“Damn,” Izuku mumbled, “I get stuck in a nightmare one time and everyone refuses to let me sleep or do my homework,” 

“I will literally wake you up if you go to sleep again,” Shinsou told him, “We’re all scarred,” 

“I don’t advise going to sleep until we add more suppressants to All for One’s cell,” Aizawa told him, “But that shouldn’t take too long.” 

Light filled the darkness.

He blinked. 

The dream was gone. 

Izuku took in the hospital bed he was currently on, and the stark white bedsheets. He saw the bright flowers, the cards sitting at his feet, unopened. He saw all of his classmates standing around his bed. He saw Aizawa-sensei, Yagi-san, and his mother. 

A strangled sob left his lips. Shinsou crushed him in a hug. He sobbed into his hoodie openly and gripped him tightly. 

He was finally home, but he wasn’t the same person he’d been before. Not by a long shot. But they didn’t need to know that.