Chapter Text
Izuku quietly hummed as he walked down the Maternity ward’s halls at around three or four in the morning. Suzume was currently strapped to his chest and crying quietly, her ears pressed flat to her skull. With Empathy, he could tell she was hungry, even after Inko had shown Himiko how to feed her. She was still hungry when she’d refused Himiko’s nipple, leaving Izuku at a loss for what to do. Even after being burped and changed, she was still crying and hungry. The only thing that seemed to calm her was walking around with her. That, and for some reason, she was calmest when her head rested against his bare skin like she needed to feel his heartbeat. Like she needed to hear his blood…
Izuku stopped humming.
In a flash, Izuku bit the tip of his left index finger. Blood dribbled out, and before Cell Activation could heal it, he put his finger near Suzume’s lips. Eagerly, Suzume opened her mouth, her little nose sniffing, her golden eyes locking onto the red liquid.
“Please be right,” Izuku prayed to the universe as he brought his fingertip to Suzume’s lips. Instantly, she latched on and began to suck at his blood, her little teeth keeping the wound open as she suckled greedily. Those needle-sharp teeth made Himiko a fast believer in bottle feeding after her first time breastfeeding. With Empathy, Izuku could sense her hunger lessening as she continued to suckle at his finger.
“Well then. I guess I need to learn more blood-infused recipes,” Izuku said with a little chuckle.
Smiling down at his daughter, he saw when her little ears flicked towards something. Looking down the barely lit hall, Izuku listened. It was faint, barely on the edge of his hearing, but he could make out singing. Blackwhip adjusted Suzume into a more comfortable position for his arm so she was facing forward at the center of Izuku’s Chest, still suckling on his finger. Curiosity grew within Suzume, and Izuku agreed, so he walked towards the singing. As he grew closer, he began to make out words. The haunting, heartfelt lilt of a woman’s voice drew him closer like a siren’s call.
“You’re okay~”
“You’re alright~”
“I’ll never, ever leave your side~”
“I will stay, and I will fight with you~”
The siren began to hum as Izuku came upon a door. The sign on the ajar door read, ‘Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.’ Through the crack in the door, Izuku could see a haggard brunette woman in her early thirties hovering over an enclosed incubator. Inside the incubator was a premature newborn that was on a ventilator and hooked up to an IV drip. The newborn was no bigger than Suzume, but they lacked the healthy, chubby look Izuku’s babies had. The premature newborn was sallow-skinned, and every angle of their skeletal structure stood out. Izuku rubbed Suzume’s ears, wondering if this was what would have happened if it was any of his other partners who had gotten pregnant.
“You’re okay~
“You’re alright~”
“I’ll stay here through the darkest night~”
“All the way, I will fight with you~”
Izuku stepped away from the door. This moment wasn’t something he was meant to witness. Before he could take more than a single step away, something in the room began to beep, and the woman gasped.
“Nononono,” She pleaded, the desperation in her voice gut-wrenching.
“Stand back,” Someone else in the room said, a nurse, Izuku assumed.
Quick footfalls from around the hallway’s corner neared, and a second later, Dr. Ine rounded the corner. Barely sparing Izuku a glance, Dr. Ine rushed into the room, leaving the door wide open. The room became a flurry of activity as Dr. Ine and the nurse tried to save the child.
“Fight, Kenta! Fight!” The distraught mother cried.
Izuku wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he had stepped into the room, his body moving on its own. Suzume cooed as she stopped suckling on his finger, the noise alerting the mother to his presence. When she half turned to see him, Izuku could see an angry red scar along the side of her neck that disappeared into the collar of her hospital gown. Her eyes widened with recognition, a desperate hope surging within her aura.
“It’s you! You’re the one that saved me in Hosu! Please, save my Kenta,” She cried, reaching out for him.
“We’re losing him!” The nurse said.
“PLEASE!” the mother cried in rising panic, grasping Izuku by the arm with a vice-like grip.
Dr. Ine looked up as he continued to pump the child’s heart for him, and Izuku saw it in his eyes: the child wouldn’t make it. It was all the permission Izuku needed. He strode past the woman and the nurse and placed a hand on the baby's tiny body. Izuku glanced at Dr. Ine.
“I’ll take responsibility. Do it,” Dr. Ine said, conviction steeling his tone.
Izuku’s hand began to emit a green glow as he used Cell Activation, the low light illuminating the incubator and those around it. The baby’s body changed before their very eyes, growing in size and gaining fat with every passing second. The IV bag’s levels also dropped with every passing second, the nutrients fueling the growth.
“He’s still not breathing on his own!” Dr. Ine said, shattering the rising hope.
“FIGHT, KENTA!” The woman cried in desperation.
Suzume, who Izuku only just now realized wasn’t crying when she ought to be, raised a paw, palm facing outward in a beckoning gesture. Something in the air changed then. The improbable felt probable, and the impossible possible.
Izuku sensed Kenta’s tiny aura fading, his will to live waning. Izuku’s eyes flashed with power as he activated Evolution and Empathy in a last-ditch effort. When Empathy had recently evolved, Izuku had been attempting to take away a physical sensation. Now, he gave one instead.
“Fight,” Izuku demanded as he poured pure strength into the child.
Kenta’s body crackled with green energy as part of One For All was channeled into the child. Izuku felt the overall strength of OFA lessen by a fraction of a percent as he continued to channel strength into the boy via Empathy. Kenta’s little hand slowly raised and grabbed Izuku’s finger, squeezing with more strength than a child should be capable of and opened eyes that blazed with power. Kenta opened his mouth and bellowed a healthy cry, loud enough to make everyone wince and back away. The instant Izuku stopped channeling his Quirks, Kenta’s eyes stopped glowing, and the arcing energy ceased as OFA’s reserve of power was returned to its maximum. The mother raced forward and scooped up the wailing Kenta into her arms.
“That’s it, Kenta! Tell the world! You. Are. Here ,” She proudly proclaimed, tears of joy and relief running down her face.
Then, Kenta burst into flames.
“Oh my,” The mother said much more calmly than Izuku would have.
She, too, burst into smokeless flames, burning away her hospital gown as her body transformed into flame entirely. She didn’t merely emit flames. She became them. The woman with a fire elemental Quirk cooed down at her baby.
“You have my Quirk,” She said, her firey features hard to make out the smile.
Izuku couldn’t help but laugh with relief and shock at what had just happened.
The woman looked up at the sound, her aura as bright as her form. “Thank you, Singularity,” she said, her voice filled with undying gratitude as she lowered her head.
Izuku beamed, nodding, unsure what exactly to say. Not only had he just brought Kenta back from the precipice of death, but he’d also momentarily shared One For All with him and activated his Quirk before he was four.
“The Singularity,” Someone whispered in awe.
“It really is him,” Another unknown voice whispered.
Izuku turned and only now noticed that the room wasn’t private. Five other incubators lined the wall, men and women standing near them with gaping mouths and hope in their hearts.
“I’m going to be investigated by the medical board…” Dr. Ine muttered, looking around then at Izuku. He shrugged, smiling. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” He said, mischief flashing in his eyes. “Want to help me get up to some more trouble? I’ll take full responsibility for any fallout, naturally.”
“Lead the way,” Izuku said with a smirk.
Suzume spit up some blood down her front.
“Riiiiight after I take care of her,” Izuku amended with a laugh at Dr. Ine’s wide eyes.
About two hours and seventeen rung bells later, Izuku ate breakfast in the mostly empty hospital cafeteria with the department leads.
“Every bed and waiting room is empty, even the ER’s…” Dr. Ine said, leaning back in his plastic chair and staring at the ceiling tiles with a huge smile on his face.
“I’ve never, not in my wildest dreams, ever thought I would hear that many bells rung in a single day. It has to be some kind of record,” Yoshida Ryu, the lead oncologist, wondered aloud. The man had some kind of heteromorph Quirk that gave him the appearance of a cartoonish bipedal dinosaur with teal skin and ridges along his spine and a white beak for a mouth.
The dean of the hospital, an older woman with grey hair and a kindly face sipped her steaming coffee from a styrofoam cup and sighed. “I’ve been drinking this swill for over forty years, and yet, this is the single best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had.”
The lead surgeon, a man with a toadstool for hair, stood from his seat and raised his styrofoam cup of coffee in a toast as if it were filled with the most priceless of champagnes. “To The Singularity! A hero among Heroes!”
The department leads raised their cups and cheered Izuku’s Hero name. Izuku leaned back in his chair, smiling, blushing, and scratching at the back of his head. “Please, Dr. Komori. I only did what anyone would do if they had my abilities,” he humbly reasoned.
“Nonsense,” Dr. Komori said. “You think you’re the first person with a Quirk that can cure cancer? Far from it, but you may be the first to be so selfless. And we,” He gestured to the rest of the doctors, “will not let your good deed be punished! Our pride as doctors on it.”
“I appreciate it,” Izuku said seriously. “I was supposed to wait until a charity was set up and only accept patients who signed an iron-clad NDA, but I couldn’t just stand by while people needed saving,” Izuku said. He knew this was risky, stupid even, but he had never been able to resist the call, not when Himiko needed saving from Bakugo back in elementary, not when upperclassmen were jumping Mei, not when the sludge Villain attacked Bakugo, not at the USJ, and not at Hosu.
Being the only people in a cafeteria meant for hundreds meant that when someone new entered the spacious room, their footfalls echoed in the still air. A tall man, equal to Izuku’s six foot six inches, in a suit with an anthropomorphic bloodhound appearance, marched for the only occupied table.
“Midoriya Izuku, I need you to come down to the station with me,” the yet unknown man said in a voice that brooked no argument.
The department heads and the hospital's dean all stood, blocking the man.
“We can’t let you do that,” Dr. Ine said, arms wide.
Izuku smiled, warmed by the gesture as much as his coffee. “It’s alright, I believe he’s here for an interview,” Izuku said, standing and gesturing to an empty table. “I won’t be going anywhere, but you can conduct your interview here.” Izuku allowed.
The canine man’s hackles raised, but another newcomer approached before he could say anything. The man also wore a freshly pressed suit but otherwise appeared to have only just rolled out of bed after a three-day bender. Gods, he looked more tired than Aizawa.
“Damn you’re long legs, Tsuragamae,” The bedraggled man complained so pathetically that it sounded like they might be his final words.
Izuku approached the man and extended a hand in greeting, his hand emitting a glow from Cell Activation. “Midoriya Izuku, The Singularity, it's a pleasure. I presume you’re from the HPSC, and your rude friend here is from the Hosu PD? Would you like a pick-me-up?” Izuku was about to explain his Quirk a little more, but the man grabbed his hand as if it were a lifeline, his tired eyes perking up.
“Bribe accepted, I think I’m done here,” The man said.
“Mera,” Tsuragamae warned.
‘Mera’ groaned, his head lulling back. “Fiiine,” he whined before straightening up. “I am here representing the HPSC, yes. Call me Mera.”
Tsuragamae cleared his throat and offered a hand. “I believe we got off on the wrong foot, and I apologize for that. It has been a…stressful night. I am Tsuragamae, the Chief of Hosu’s police force. Just call me Chief,” He said.
Izuku took the offered hand, looking the man in the eyes and reading his aura. There was irritation there, yes, but there was also a horrible amount of grief.
“Apology accepted,” Izuku said with a smile. Hosu was a mess. Were any of your men hurt?” Izuku asked, fearing he knew the answer.
Chief dropped Izuku’s hand, a weight settling on his shoulders as he sat heavily into a seat at the empty table. “Hosu wasn’t a mess. It was a slaughter. I just finished delivering bad news to eleven families. I wouldn’t normally take cases myself, but I don’t even have enough officers left standing to patrol…” He said, gaze empty as it fell to his clasped hands.
Izuku sat across from the man. “I’m sorry,” He said, trying to convey the truth of those two words.
Mera sat down quietly and let the silence hang for several seconds.
“Midorya Izuku,” Mera began, voice all business. “Could you tell me what happened last night?” He asked, clicking a pen and poising it to write.
“From the beginning?” Izuku asked.
Chief straightened up in his seat, pulling out his own report and pen. “From the beginning.”
So, Izuku told them everything. He even told them of his suspicion that he was the likely origin of Trigger and that the fabled Demon Lord was, in fact, real and ultimately behind the LOV, Trigger, and the Nomu. The only thing he left out was the whole truth of who AFO was and his connection to OFA and All Might.
When he had finished, the two men clicked their pens in unison a moment later, continuing to stare at their notes.
“Shit…” Mera said, still staring at his notes like he was willing them to change.
“Indeed,” Chief agreed, “I shouldn’t be saying this, but I believe this is a pretty cut-and-dry lawful use of lethal force. You’ll be ordered to take a psych eval, mandatory trauma counseling, and placed on a standard two weeks leave from any Hero work, not that affects you much as a student,” Chief said, standing from the table and tucking his report away.
“The video makes it clear as day that lethal force was justified,” Mera agreed.
“Video?” Izuku asked with mounting horror.
A wall-mounted TV displayed Stain’s last moments for the world to see. The graphic scene was barely blurred, leaving little to the imagination.
In a well-kept yet nearly empty bar, Shigaraki Tomura was lost in memories as he stared down at the severed hand he used for a mask. The prominent knuckles on the hand evoked a deep-seated fear, the palm evoking dread. His father’s hand was a stark reminder of everything wrong with Hero society, which was why he kept it close. He hadn’t always known whose this hand belonged to. Roughly three years ago, the repressed childhood memories had begun resurfacing in dreams, then in waking nightmares. He had started remembering at around the same time he stopped letting the broker casually touch him. The realization that the repression of his memories was actually the work of Okuta Kagerou’s Quirk was a shocking revelation but one he kept to himself. It taught him something important, something crucial. Sensei wasn’t the benevolent father figure he had been raised to believe he was. The revelation had opened Tomura's eyes. His drive to simply destroy everything he disliked in the world had been honed into a sharper, more clear goal. If Tomura wanted a world free of Heroes and Villains, he would need to impress the man who raised him and prove himself a worthy student. Shortly after realizing this truth, Tomura began studying the focal point of his plan, All Might. Three years of studying every movement and victory revealed something monumental. All Might was never seen more than three hours daily, progressively less with time. It meant that All Might, the very embodiment of Hero culture, was weakening.
The TV played the same clip once again, drawing his attention. Midorya Izuku, The Singularity, floated over a crowd of wounded and desperate civilians crying out for help.
“It’s already being called the worst Villain attack since All Might’s debut, with over sixty Hero deaths and counting, most of whom were Ingenium’s sidekicks who seemed to be the primary targets of tonight's brazen attack. Heroes weren’t the only targets. No, the civilian death total is already at ninety-four, with twice as many wounded. It begs the question, where was All Might when we needed him most?” The reporter posed the question, intently looking into the camera.
“The cracks are beginning to form,” Tomura said to himself.
“What was that, Shigaraki?” Kurogiri asked, pausing his incessant polishing of glasses.
Tomura waved him off, sipping at his drink.
The door to the bar creaked open on unoiled hinges to reveal the very broker he had just been thinking of.
“Shigaraki!” The sleazy man greeted through his gap-toothed smile. “Allow me to introduce you to the most promising recruits I could find!”
From behind the broker, a man stepped into the light. Most of the man’s flesh was charred black and appeared stapled in place. Burnt skin stretched taught as the burned man smiled with malevolent glee.
“This is Dabi,” The Broker introduced.
“Hosu was your work?” Dabi asked approvingly.
A second man with green scales, a gecko Quirk and dressed like a Stain copycat, stepped in.
“This is Spinner,” The Broker introduced.
“It was Stain’s as well,” Spinner added.
"A martyr to the cause," Tomura said. Stain's death hadn't been part of the plan, but Tomura was beginning to wonder if this outcome wasn't better.
A massive, muscular man with blond hair and a missing eye stepped through the doors, smiling like a true psychopath. “That’ll teach em’ to stay down next time. If only I was there~” He daydreamed.
“This is Muscular,” The Broker introduced warily.
A large man with full lips, long hair, and effeminate mannerisms entered.
“Big Sis Magne at your service,” She said, slinging a giant magnet over one of her shoulders.
A man with a black and white full-body suit entered, and Tomura immediately pinned him as the craziest of the bunch.
“I’m Twice! Nice to meetcha! I already hate you!” He said, immediately contradicting himself.
“Don’t mind that,” The Broker said, no doubt worrying about his finder’s fee. “He usually means the first thing he says.”
A well-dressed, if garishly so, man walked in. He posed, one hand on a nearly blank mask.
“Mr. Compress, in the flesh!” He said with a flourish, pulling Tomura’s handheld from beneath his hat.
“Gimme that!” Tomura snapped, snatching his console back.
Then, a fucking kid walked into the room wearing a gas mask and an honest-to-shit middle school uniform.
“Sup,” The fucking child said.
“This is Mustard,” The Broker said, worry evident.
“He’s a kid,” Shigaraki flatly stated, disappointed.
“And I killed everyone in my group home!” Mustard shouted in offense, brandishing a revolver and aiming it at Tomura.
Shigaraki stared down the barrel, then through the kid’s gas mask and into Mustard’s soul until it was the kid that squirmed.
“You can stay,” Tomura said reluctantly.
“There is one more,” The Broker said. “But he’ll need…liberating.” The sleazy bastard eluded, stepping closer to Tomura and offering a hand to shake.
Tomura’s prosthetic arm clicked and whirred, pointing its palm at The Broker’s chest. The palm of which had a yen-sized hole in the center, and near the elbow was a large box magazine of .50 BMG rounds.
“What did I tell you about touching me?”