Chapter Text
Inko gripped Izuku’s hand tightly in her own. Her face was pale in the early morning light, and her words were soft as she urged Izuku to quicken his pace. The sidewalks were bare of other people, although Izuku caught the occasional glimpse of something dark and sleek flying through the clouds up above. For the entire walk, he saw three vehicles in total on the road: one a faded red truck that looked moments from collapse; the second a dark blue car with its roof torn off and the edges sharp enough to cut and bleed; the last was a long, black limo that he caught a quick peek of out of the corner of his eye, knowing better than to be caught looking at such a beautiful car.
Inko stopped in front of a clean, brick building. The letters carefully written on the front in bright red paint read, “Quirk Evaluation Clinic”. The corners of Inko’s eyes pinched as she read the sign, and her feet stalled at the welcome mat staring innocently back at her. She did not want to go in, this much Izuku knew. He did not want to go in either for if his brave mother was scared of this place then surely he should be scared too.
“Izuku, I need you to listen carefully,” Inko said. She did not look down at him as she spoke, but looked at the building instead, her bottom lip stiff and her shoulders squared as if to steel herself. “There are two things that could happen once we go in there. We are either walking out together, or you’re going to the capital. No matter what happens, I need you to be brave. You can’t cry in there or yell for me or fight against the guards. Do you understand, Izuku?”
She looked down at him now, and he saw the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. He did not want to see his mother cry.
“I can be brave.”
She smiled then, quick and full of pain, and ruffled his hair gently with her free hand. “That’s my boy. I knew I could count on you.”
Inko stepped forward, and Izuku followed her to a fate neither could prevent.
***
Perhaps in another life, Inko would have wept to hear her son was quirkless. Perhaps in another life, Izuku would have sat there in shock, dropping his beloved All Might action figure as the words rang and rang and rang in his ears. Perhaps in another life, Izuku would have turned to his mom and asked if he could still become a hero, even if he was quirkless.
But there were no heroes in this life, no All Might action figures, and no tears shed over the news.
Once the doctor declared Izuku quirkless, Inko thanked him for his time, and both mother and son walked out of the door together.
Inko closed and locked the door to their house with a finality that even Izuku felt. “We’re safe,” she mumbled. She didn’t have to say the ‘for now’ part.
***
An excerpt from “All For One’s Glorious Rise to Power” by Seibei Muruyama
The death of a hero marked the end of the old society of heroes and villains and the beginning of a rule under one man named All For One. Society had labelled him as a villain, as someone vile and evil and ruinous to a world of quirk users. This was not the truth.
All For One was our liberator. He tore down the old caste systems of the weak and the strong and built a society based on equality. Within the first year of his rise to power, he rid Japan of the all powerful and corrupted heroes. Within the first five years, he rid Japan of quirk discrimination. Only those deserving of quirks were left in the populace, and the country is at peace.
There is no good or bad. There are no heroes or villains. There is only our benevolent leader and us, his humble followers until the end of time.
Now, society functions perfectly without the arrogant users of powerful quirks clogging up the populace. Those with corrupt quirks are sent off and reformed into new, law-abiding citizens. Those with peaceful, law-abiding quirks grow into outstanding citizens in the improved education program and eventually join the workforce to further the glory of All For One.
There is no other option. Everyone follows our illustrious leader, All For One, and no one is left out.
We are finally free of all the pain and discrimination of labels and heroes and villains. We are free in this new utopia of equality.
Won’t you join me in celebrating our newfound freedom?
***
Izuku froze on the couch when he heard the phone ring, his fingers clenched tightly around the notebook he’d been writing in. The phone never rang unless something bad happened. First it was Tsubasa. Then it was Yoshitake. Then Akiko and Taisuke and Takahiro. Each taken friend left a hole in Izuku’s heart and a pained gleam in Inko’s eyes. Now it was just Izuku and Kacchan, but the ringing of the phone whispered of Izuku being left all alone.
Inko picked the phone up with shaking fingers and held it up to her ear. “Hello?” she whispered.
Even from the couch, Izuku could hear the franticness in the caller’s tone, and he knew.
He knew, and yet he denied it in his heart. Kacchan was kind to him. He couldn’t be born with a corrupt quirk. Not Kacchan.
Izuku gazed with wide eyes at his mother, waiting for her to break down as she did every time a phone call happened. But her shoulders did not slump nor did tears stream silently down her face. There was a fierce look in her eyes that Izuku had never seen before.
“Of course, Mitsuki,” she said. “We’ll be there in an hour, packed and ready to go.”
She placed the phone back on the receiver and turned to Izuku with a grim smile. “Honey, I need you to go find your sturdiest and biggest bag and pack it with clothes and anything else you think you’ll need. Make sure you can still carry it after you put everything in there, alright?”
“Where are we going, mom?” Izuku asked.
“Someplace safe. Far, far away from here.” Inko reached down and kissed him in the middle of his curls, pulling him in for a quick hug before gently pushing him towards his room. “Go pack, Izuku. The sooner we leave, the better.”
Izuku packed the essentials:
- Eight t-shirts
- Seven long-sleeved shirts
- Four jackets
- Five pairs of shorts
- Ten pairs of pants
- Ten pairs of underwear
- Ten pairs of socks
- A box of playing cards that his mom used to own as a kid before she gave it to him
- A busted up action figure of Nana Shimura
- His favorite yellow blanket
- Four notebooks to write in
- Three pens, two of them with black ink and one with red
- His stuffed animal, a fluffy green bunny named Benjiro
- “Heroes of Japan: Volume 7” by Hirokichi Arato
- A picture of Izuku and Inko smiling at the camera
Before Izuku could zip his duffle bag up, Inko came in, crouched down next to him, and gave him one last item to put in there. “This is not a toy, Izuku, but a way to protect yourself if I’m not there. Watch me, and I’ll show you how to open it.” She held down a button on the small metal box in her hand, flicked her wrist, and a blade came out, edge thick yet razor sharp. “See the dull end? When you need to close the knife, all you have to do is press into this button at the bottom that I used to open it then push the dull end of the knife against the ground or some other hard surface until the blade clicks back into place in the metal box. Don’t open it unless I’m not around and you’re in danger. Got it?”
Izuku didn’t understand why he needed to put the knife in his bag. What did his mom mean when she said she might not be around or that he might be in danger? Weren’t they going somewhere safe together?
His thoughts were muddled with worry and confusion, but he just nodded his head and placed the knife in his duffle bag, right between his shorts and his favorite yellow blanket.
Inko and Izuku left five minutes later, a duffle bag slung over his shoulders and three full, heavy laden bags slung over hers. The walk was quick to the Bakugou household as a crescent moon crawled into the sky, its light dingy on the worn and plant riddled sidewalk. Izuku dared not to talk, the full weight of the situation weighing down on his shoulders. Without being told, he knew they wouldn’t be going back to the house again.
Inko knocked three times on the door in quick succession. Mitsuki opened it, her lips pulled down in a more serious look than Izuku has ever seen on her. Masaru stood behind her, Katsuki curled up and asleep in his arms. Inko surveyed the bags weighing down the shoulders of the two adults and asked, “Is that everything?” Her voice almost wasn’t audible over the wind.
“Yes,” Mitsuki said, and then they were off. The Bakugous left their house in much the same fashion the Midoriyas did as everyone followed Inko onto the crumbling sidewalk and towards their new life.
***
An excerpt from “The Downfall of Japan” by Yasotaro Iwasaki
There was once a time when heroes roamed the streets instead of Nomu. A time when people were happy and thought nothing of villains but an inconvenience on their way to work. A time where good prevailed and evil was only found lurking in the shadows.
How I weep for such a simple time. When did this begin? When did All For One start his rise for power? Was it back in the rebellion of 40XX when villains almost rose to power under the 3rd Legislation of the Okazaki Quirk Laws? When was he even born? His tyranny has reigned for over twenty years, yet he does not age. His face is as unlined and ruthless as the day he rose to power in 41XX.
I remember when children used to walk to school, hand in hand with their friends and unaware of the world around them. Now, children huddle together in groups, moving swiftly along the street to school then back with no tarrying in between. Their faces are painted in fear, their eyes wide and mouths puckered into grim, straight lines. They pray the Nomu don’t spot them or the villains playing “law enforcement” don’t stop them before they are safe in the arms of their family at home. They are taught about the “liberation” of quirks and the “freedom” All For One brought them.
I remember my child, as bright and beautiful as her mother, stolen from me once the doctors discovered her quirk.
***
They walked until the city was behind them and the crescent moon dipped below the horizon to welcome the pale light of the sun. They walked until Izuku’s feet were bruised and blistered and his eyes threatened to droop and close with every step he took. They walked until his arm was numb under the weight of his duffle bag. They walked until they could walk no longer.
In the shade of an evergreen tree, they curled up and slept. Katsuki had woken up at some time during the long trek and walked the last quarter of the night away without a fuss, yet even he slept once they stopped, as if he knew of the long miles of walking that awaited them all.
They awoke in the evening and ate a quick, cold meal as they waited for the sun to go down. Then they packed up all their bags on their shoulders and began to walk again.
Izuku lost track of how long this cycle went on. The tiredness sunk into his bones and made him forgetful in those long days of walking. They never encountered any Nomu, in the sky or on the ground, or any of the sly looking police officers that his mom always told him to avoid when he could.
Izuku did not know where they were going, but he could only hope it was somewhere safe.