Chapter Text
The new nest is not as nice as Night-sama’s nest.
It doesn’t feel as warm, for one. It’s all hardwood and thin sliding doors straight out of a history show, and Keigo feels like a samurai is going to come seeking shelter from a spring storm, or a ninja is going to pop out of the shadows and stab something at any minute. There aren’t any of Night-sama’s knick-knacks or books, either, except for the ones that she told them to grab before they left. The nest feels bare without them. Empty. Keigo doesn’t like it.
He and Tenko have to share a futon, which he doesn’t mind, but the sheets are silk, and they’re too smooth. Every time they brush up against his feathers, it feels like water that just won’t roll off for some reason, and he wants to stretch them out and preen until it feels right again.
As-is, he can’t sleep. But even if he could, Keigo doesn’t think his stupid animal brain would let him. This far away from the city, the voice telling him to hunt-search-move-flyflyfly is too loud to ignore. It wants him to take off into the night alone, but he won’t ‘cause that’s so stupid it’s silly. Going off on your own is how you become a protagonist in a TV show, and he’s too young to be a protagonist all by himself. So there.
Telling the animal voice to shove it doesn’t help him sleep, though, so Keigo gets up and tiptoes out of the bedroom. If he can’t do anything else, he might as well explore the new not-as-good nest.
The sliding door-- he thinks it has a special name, shounen, or something --rattles a bit in the frame as he pushes it open and slides it back shut. The bedroom leads straight into a large hall, and just a room over, he can see a light on behind another sliding door. Deciding to investigate, Keigo goes over and opens it to find Night-sama sitting at a low table with her laptop, her cell phone, and tons of papers laid out before her.
“Oh, hello, Keigo-kun. What can I do for you at this fine-- four-fifty-one? Oh, that is late late. I am going to regret this so much in five hours.”
“Can’t sleep,” Keigo says bashfully, “What are you doing up so late?”
“Don’t want to sleep,” she answered, “I’m going to have a nightmare if I do, and I know my mind. It can be a mean, anxious little thing, and I’m scared of what it’ll show me if I give it the chance.”
“But you’re a hero! Aren’t heroes never afraid?”
“Let me tell you a secret, Keigo-kun,” Night-sama murmured, “It’s a very special secret; one that every hero keeps to themselves and never, ever talks about. Can I trust you with it?”
Keigo nodded seriously. “Pinky promise.”
Night-sama smiled and locked their pinkies. Then she leaned down close and whispered right into his ear, “Every hero is afraid. Always. They’re afraid of what’ll happen if they’re too late, they’re afraid of what’ll happen if they can’t save everyone, they’re afraid of what’ll happen if they don’t stop the bad guys, they’re afraid of what’ll happen if they do. Heroes are always afraid, and anyone who says otherwise is lying.”
The words sunk into Keigo’s brain, and he blinked. “But then how come everyone says heroes are fearless?”
“Because heroes are strong. So strong. You have to be if you’re afraid at every single moment and still decide to get out of bed every day and make the world a better place regardless.”
“Heroes are really strong, then. And brave, too,” Keigo agreed, thinking of some words from one of Mom’s pre-quirk shows, “That’s the only time a person can be brave.”
“Exactly.”
“Then Night-sama,” Keigo asked, “Why are you out here awake instead of sleeping? Aren’t you brave and strong enough to beat up a nightmare?”
She looked at him for a few seconds before scoffing and closing her laptop. “Out of the mouth of babes. Well, come on, then. If you can’t sleep, and I can’t sleep, maybe we’ll have better luck if we try together.”
Night-sama stood up and offered him her hand. Keigo took it, and she led him back to her room, humming his song along the way. She got them both settled in the jumbo futon in another room, and Night-sama rolled him up in a fuzzy blanket from her original nest.
There, comfortable and warm again, Keigo fell asleep before he could even stop recounting his top ten favorite shows of all time.
*****
I skip home from school, swinging my broken backpack to the beat of my makeshift song.
“Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, and carbon-a-dee-doo. Nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neon, sodium, magnesium too!”
“What even is the purpose of making the elements into a song?” Yamaoka asked.
“Songs can get stuck in your head. And if it’s stuck in there, then I have a better chance of remembering for Friday’s pop quiz.”
“Isn’t the whole point of pop quizzes being a surprise?”
“And the whole point of having a future vision quirk is to avoid surprises. C’mon, Yamaoka. Lighten up a little. Or at the very least, help me sing the next verse.”
“I’d rather not.”
“It’s easy. A one, a two, a one, two, three! Aluminum, silicon, phosphorus, sulfur, chlorine, argon, and then. Potassium, calcium, scandium, titanium, vanadium, and chromium brings that string to an end! Ohhhhhhh~”
“Please stop.”
“We’ve got manganese, iron, cobalt, nickel, and copper and zinc! Gallium, germanium, arsenic, selenium, bromine, and krypton, but not the planet you think.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Hush, you uncultured snake. I’m still going. Rubidium, strontium, yttrium--”
Yamaoka slapped a hand over my mouth and flashed his fangs. “Shut. Up.”
“Fine,” I huffed, but from behind his hand, it came out more like ‘phime’. “I’ll stop.”
“Thank you. Now, if you could just keep your mouth shut for another few hours, that’ll be great-- greatly appreciated.”
Yamaoka stopped walking, frozen on the sidewalk. I followed his gaze and turned towards the corner of the street, where an ambulance and a few police cars were gathered outside Okazaki’s house.
“What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you tell me, Miss Future Vision Quirk,” he snapped back, but there was no venom behind it.
“Come on,” I said, quickly walking forward, “I hope nobody’s hurt.”
The two of us went down to the end of the block, but an officer stopped us before we could step foot in Okazaki’s yard.
“Woah, there. Stop, you two. Can’t you see that this is an active crime scene?”
“But officer,” I said, “We live here.”
The man looked us over and then at the house and back to us. “Yamaoka and Sasaki?”
“Yeah.”
“Then that’s the two unaccounted-for kids. Imada’s already with my partner, so if you could just follow me--”
“What about Michio?”
“Hm?”
“You mentioned Imada-chan, but what about the other boy who lived with us?” Yamaoka pressed, “Takeda Michio.”
The police officer pressed a hand to his face and sighed. “Let’s just get you to your friend and she’ll be able to explain. Her or one of the other officers. I shouldn’t be the one to tell you.”
“Where’s Michio?” I asked, ice slowly forming in my veins, “Where is he?”
“Look, I shouldn’t--”
“Where is he?”
Just then, a gurney was walked out of the house by two paramedics with a body laid out on top of it. A small body. A familiar, small body.
“Michio?” I gasped, and then shouted, “Michio. Michio! Michio are you alright? We’ll figure out which hospital you’re being taken to and visit as soon as we can, okay? We’ll come as--”
“There isn’t going to be a hospital to visit, is there?” Yamaoka asked, voice distant. “Is there, officer?”
The officer shook his head, but that didn’t make any sense. Michio couldn’t be… he couldn’t be…
No. It had to be a trick--or a misunderstanding. Michio wasn’t gone. I had just made him a mediocre bento that morning. I had just sung him his song for the first time last week. He had laughed at one of my puns until water came out of his nose last night. That adorable, fun, living little boy couldn’t be… couldn’t be…
“Michio!” I cried, chasing after the ambulance that was slowly pulling away. “Michio, where are you--”
I tripped and stumbled, catching myself on a pristine white wall. “What in the--”
“Doctor Kobayashi. We are ready to proceed,” a voice from around the corner. I followed it and came to a closed door with a slim window going up the door handle.
“Then let us continue. This is Doctor Kobayashi Moe recording the dissection and examination of Subject N3-DZU.” The doctor stepped to the side to adjust a camera, and I caught a glimpse of white fur laid out on an examination table.
“Nedzu?” I mumbled. My brain then caught up with reality and I started desperately turning the knob. Locked. “Nedzu, wake up! Nedzu, buddy, wake up!”
“Making the first incision now.”
“Nedzu! Nedzu, come on!”
The scalpel inched closer to his skull. With a wretched cry, I backed up and ran at the door, throwing my whole weight behind my barrel forward. I felt my shoulder make impact with the wood, and the door gave, opening up to a dark room only illuminated by an eerie, flickering blue light.
“It’s going so well,” came an excited voice. I turned and noticed a man in a white lab coat leaning up against a glass window, “Better than I ever envisioned!”
“What’s going well?” I demanded. I was absolutely done with whatever the hell was going on, and the creepy old guy going crazy over something did not fill me with confidence.
“This,” he continued, ignoring my question, “This is going to be my masterpiece.”
“The fuck are you going on about-- Tenko?”
I looked in through the glass to see an older version of the boy I knew strapped down to a table. There were tubes and cables hooked up to his body, and every few seconds, bolts of blue-hot lightning would pump into his skin. His body would wither and convulse, lifting itself off the table, and stretching the constraints to their limit. A huge shock, one greater than the others before it, pulsed through his body, and Tenko’s head tilted back and let lose a silent scream of anguish.
“Tenko!” I shouted.
“Yes, the new vessel is coming along nicely. I will be sure to make note of everything in my report to All for One,” the doctor, Garaki, continued, completely ignoring me.
“The hell you will! Fuck you, and fuck your ‘masterpiece.’ Don’t worry, Tenko, I’ll get you out of there.” I looked around for an entrance into the chamber, but I found nothing. Another blue bolt damn near blinded me, and I grit my teeth as I jumped up on the table Garaki was sitting at and started punching the glass.
“Give. Me. Back. My. Kid!” On the final hit, the glass shattered inward, and without taking stock of my bloody hand, I jumped through and landed feet-first in the middle of a blue inferno.
“Didn’t notice me there, didja?” came a gruff voice from behind me. I whipped around and saw a slim figure in a black trench coat standing over someone, their boot pressed against their victim’s face.
They dug their shoe in further and laughed a deep, guttural laugh. “Looks like sentiment tripped you up after all, hero!”
“...Dabi?”
There was a wheeze of pain as the blue flames licked at the downed hero. It was then that I noticed the charred jacket and the remnants of scarlet feathers wafting through the air.
“You bastard!” I ran at Dabi and threw myself at him. I hit the pyromantic dead-on and kept going, stumbling forward through the flames and right off the top of the roof.
And then I was falling.
* ****
I jerked awake with a gasp and clasped my hands over my mouth. I felt tears touching the edge of them from my wet cheeks, and I slowly brought my hands away from my face and let myself take deep breaths.
Just like I thought. Nightmare.
I kept wiping at my face and took stock of my memories, categorizing them as best I could. Two futures that never were and never could be, and two canon futures that had been derailed before they could even start picking up steam. Four things that would never come to pass.
Maybe.
Probably.
God, I hope so.
Tenko, at least, would never be the Shigaraki from canon. Hawks’ future was still a little up in the air, but I knew that wherever Tenko would end up, he won’t get there the same way his counterpart did.
So a seventy-five percent success rate. Ish.
I laid back down on the futon and, speak of the devils, felt two warm presences snuggle back into my sides. I have no idea when Tenko decided to crawl into bed after us, but I knew we should probably be getting up soon if we were to stay on schedule for the day.
But not yet.
I can indulge myself for a few more moments still.
I pulled the boys in close and leveled out my breathing, slowly feeling my heart calm down to a reasonable pace. I am safe, I am alive, and I am okay. I am here. I’m here and I’ve lived, damnit. I’ve lived and I’ve made the world a better place.
Maybe Sasaki Akumu was meant to die in canon, maybe she was meant to live. Maybe Project Insight was taken care of off-screen, maybe it never was even brought to light. Maybe Nedzu would have escaped the laboratory on his own, maybe he got help from Sir Nighteye. It didn’t matter. There is no way I could know. And even if I could, it wouldn’t matter because I’ve done all I can.
I’ve done my best to carve myself a life and a family out of this second chance, and I’ve done at least a little good. The proof is in my arms, snuggled up close to my heart. The proof is in the nineteen-year-old baker who wakes up unreasonably early and has the best cinnamon rolls in Tokyo. The proof is in the sentient badger who has someone he can confide in and who won’t be half as alone when the world weighs heavy on his shoulders.
Like it or not, I’ve changed things. I think it’s about time I’ve accepted that. There is no possible way for me to follow canon to the letter now, and even if I could, I don’t think I’d want to.
“Bring it on,” I hissed at the quiet bedroom, “Horikoshi, the universe, whatever or whoever brought me here: bring it on. I’m ready to fight for this. For my family, for our future. And if you don’t like it, then tough tits, that’s on you. You’ve brought me into this world, now you can deal with the consequences.”
And with that bold declaration of war, I snuggled back into my pillow and curled my arms around the boys, ready to get some proper sleep and begin the day when I was good and ready.