Chapter Text
Shouta was freaking the fuck out.
He stared at the arena, or rather, what remained. It was completely trashed, looking like the aftermath of a mixed variety of natural disasters passing through.
The ground was cracked, loose pieces of debris that had separated were still levitating near the floor, their surfaces sparking with electricity every once in a while.
The storm had also picked up dust and dirt, which somewhat hid what transpired, along with the technical difficulties.
Every light in the stadium had gone out, and that probably extended to anything even remotely electronic. There were lots of yelling coming from the crowd, who were also freaking out. His class had already gotten closer and were grabbing onto each other, expecting the worst.
Shouta glanced at Shinsou, who sat paralysed on the floor, trembling. He stared at where Midoriya had been just moments ago, straight through his transparent body.
A med-bot finally rolled in, one which was apparently spared from the shutdown. It snapped the student out of it, guiding him towards the infirmary while ignoring his protest about how he was fine and didn’t want any help. He leaned on the bot regardless.
He turned back towards the arena after Shinsou left, searching for the other teachers.
Nemuri and Cementos were still standing far from the epicenter, pushed away by the sheer force that emanated from Midoriya. Thankfully, neither were on fire. Just surrounded by scorch marks and ashes. Although that may be thanks to their fireproof equipment.
“Well, folks!” Hizashi’s quirked voice rang out, clear over all the chatter. He probably made some dumb ‘backup mic’ joke about it, although he might have just skipped it this time. “Looks like we just saw a one in a lifetime quirk interaction! This is your reminder to properly diagnose and analyse your quirks, so this kind of stuff doesn’t happen to you, yikes!”
He noticed Bodysnach slithering away, patting Hizashi on the shoulder to warn him he’d be alone, probably under the guise of checking up on Midoriya. Which was definitely something he would do after that whole headache.
That didn’t give his friend much of a chance to follow them to who-knows-where. At least Nedzu should have them monitored through the cameras… which were also down, fuck.
“It’ll take us a hot minute to clean up everything, so take some time to recharge, everyone!”
Shouta zoomed back to the commentator’s booth, watching as Hizashi powered up his phone to check his messages. There was nothing from Nedzu, which generally was a good sign when
(Something is wrong)
The world paused.
(Something is wrong)
Then it started flowing back again. He didn’t. He could only watch passively as everything that was real moved on without him. He couldn’t even care about it.
(Something is wrong)
It took a moment for him to catch up, to try to cross again the barrier that kept him trapped in his non-existence.
He was still shaky, and feeling distinctly out of
place.
But he didn’t get much time to dwell on it before he caught the tail end of Hizashi’s conversation through the phone.
“-urrently located in prep room 15-H. You should have the fastest route already downloaded. Go.”
They didn’t even wait for Nedzu to finish his sentence before they both were sprinting through the halls, with the blonde cursing softly as the lights in their way flickered faintly.
It felt like they spent an eternity to get there, like all the halls doubled in length, even though it took them less than a minute to get there.
For some reason Shouta stayed glued to the locked door. He could’ve gone through, but his soul stayed rooted in place. It wasn’t like he couldn’t phase through. More like the dread of what he would find behind that door kept him from acting at all.
What if he was too late? What if he failed? What if nothing had really changed, and he wasn’t ready to face it? What would he think?
But he powered through, he was a hero. And none of this bullshit was ever about him.
It was about the most… everything problem child Shouta has ever had the delight of knowing. Somehow, always in some sort of trouble. At that rate, something was inevitably going to kill him.
He had to push down the thought that it would be today as he froze for a second, staring at the gruesome scene.
Hatsume tried to keep Snatch away with her blowtorch at max strength. She had minor cuts all around, and a couple of her dreadlocks were on the ground soaking up red like cursed sponges.
Shinsou was half covered in blood, holding a finger helplessly as he tried to somewhat stabilise Midoriya with the kind of lacklustre first aid they taught in middle school.
The last was slumped on the ground, gravely wounded, holding his own hand… most of it. For both of them.
Green eyes locked onto his for just a second, so bright and hopeful, before finally letting go as Midoriya passed out. That wasn’t good. It was actually one of the worst things that he could do with the amount of blood he lost. But he wouldn’t react to any of his calls and frantic demands for him to wake the fuck up and to stay with them.
Hizashi had to kick the door twice before it gave, jumping Snatch immediately and dragging them away from the students, engaging them in combat.
But Shouta’s focus was only on one thing.
(A child sits at the edge of a building, reaching out to the stars with hope in his eyes )
((Police tape block the street, but do nothing to hide the bloody lump splattered on the asphalt. A limp hand peeking out from underneath. The word moves on, careless.))
Everything else was so far away, so minuscule and unimportant it wasn’t even worth a thought.
(Blood pours into his eyes as he looks at the monster reaching for his student’s face, five fingers making contact,)
((He stares down, watching a closed casket being lowered into the ground. He can’t even look at their parents. He failed.))
Because only one single thing mattered.
(The ground trembled at every step the monster took. The buildings crashed around the place where his last stand would take place. This time, he would not freeze.)
((He glared at the stranger in the mirror. He felt only disgust looking at the pitiful creature that trembled under his gaze. Nothing it didn’t deserve. It was his fault. Always his fault.))
Not falling.
He was floating aimlessly, barely aware of his own body. He tried to take a breath, only to choke on the nothing around him. Did he even have lungs?
He found it didn’t matter… It never did. There was no space for such silly matters here.
The only thing worthy of thought in this not-place was the ethereal shine behind his closed eyelids. One that grew brighter and brighter, or perhaps just closer, as the heat of the raging inferno burned away at his skin.
Against logic itself, Shouta opened his eyes.
Bright. That was the only way to describe what he saw. Just pure, raw brightness. The potential for countless new universes condensed into a single point. He was just a mere spec of dust next to it. He was less than that. He simply didn’t exist in comparison.
Not yet.
It roared, and that was all Shouta was until it stopped, until he was allowed to have a mind again.
It was in pain. It was the pain. And so he was pain, too. There wasn’t anything else he could even dream of being under its light.
Please, not yet. It begged. They both did.
And the Everything turned to stare directly down and up and sideways at him for a last time before the endless supernova fully engulfed what was even left of him.
The unpleasant but familiar smell of blood hit. Words of hurt, of fear, rang louder than thunder in their ears.
They wanted to see. They needed to see.
So they opened their eyes.
He saw Midoiya, the Ninth. He was Its and Theirs. And nothing hurt Theirs if they had any say in it.
And they opened their eyes.
He saw a dirty, dirty Thief, holding their knife, staing it with unwanted blood. They were fighting the Voice, which somewhat felt like His; in a way that made the plasma boil in their… veins.
And they opened their eyes.
Saw the Mother, calling the school frantically whilst holding and reading the ghost board, crying and hyperventilating.
And they opened their eyes.
Saw Eight, talking with someone on a phone, running through the halls, pushing through their limits and powering up to get there faster.
And opened their eyes.
Saw the Metal reboot and move with purpose towards the Healer, grabbing her to carry faster to where she needed to be.
And opened their eyes.
And opened their eyes.
And opened their eyes.
And opened their eyes.
And opened their eyes.
And opened their eyes.
And opened their eyes.
And opened their eyes.
And opened their eyes.
(Saw what couldn’t be considered a man, sitting on a chair, barely alive, but still smiling through the tubes and machines keeping it pitiful body alive.)
Shouta tried to move, to crawl to were he needed to be. He grabbed the walls, the floor, the ceiling to push his way through the diminutive room
The thief was bound up and trapped like a tiny fly in a spider’s web. He tugged from his eyes, from where endless strands spilled and writhed like hungry snakes, weaving and looping among themselves.
He crawled. One arm forward at a time.
The Voice, Hizashi, had already leaped towards the students, covering and defending the cowering children.
But they weren’t there for them, only for Ninth. And for the thief who dared hurt him, hurt them.
It looked up at them, trying to stab themselves, to escape. But he wouldn’t let it.
So he grabbed and grabbed and grabbed and pushed and pulled and strangled and scratched and
(Don’t freeze!)
(Don’t fall.)