Chapter 37

Chapter Text

Izuku does not throw up this time.

He does, however, panic. And this means that when Compress finally frees him, he comes out swinging. His fist connects with a jaw almost hard enough to be satisfying, and the answering blow has fire behind it. Colored lights explode in Izuku's vision, and he lashes out blindly before someone grabs his arm and twists it behind his back.

"If you keep struggling, I'm going to put you back," Compress tells him. He's calm when he says it. Not angry. Not even frustrated. "And I can keep putting you back and taking you out again, for as long as I need to. Do you want that?"

Izuku's fists throb from clenching so tightly, but when he tries to strike again, his arm will not respond. He tries to make himself move, tries to make himself want to move, but in the end he can only struggle halfheartedly as they wrest him back into the chair. His eyes slide over to the other, and what little hope he has left slips away. Bakugou is already bound again, looking considerably more worse for wear. There's blood dripping from his nose, and more smeared at his mouth and chin. His lips are parted, showing his clenched teeth in a snarl.

So—first attempt was an utter failure. That just means the second attempt will be even harder. Izuku ducks his head and tries to look as small as possible.

It doesn't work.

"Look out!" He registers a ghost's warning cry a split-second too late. Izuku looks up just in time to catch Shigaraki's fist with his face.

Four clammy fingers grab him by the chin, heedless of how tender it is from being struck, and wrench his face upward. "Stupid. That was very stupid." Shigaraki speaks close enough to his face for Izuku to smell his stale breath. "You think there's nothing I can't hold over your head, just because you aren't in a crowded mall." Izuku's stomach turns to lead. Behind the severed hand, Shigaraki's eyes glitter. "Cross me again, and it won't be just you regretting it." He releases Izuku roughly enough to send his head cracking against the back of his chair. "The only reason I'm not doing it now is that you were actually a pretty great help. You went the wrong way, and you ended up so far from any of the actual exits that we didn't even have to worry about you, and we could focus on tracking him down instead."

"Deku, are you fucking serious," Bakugou hisses at him, almost spitting with fury.

Izuku ducks his head then, and lets his hair fall over his eyes. If he sits like this, then he can at least pretend no one can see the pathetic horror that he knows is showing on his face.

"We got pretty lucky," Shigaraki goes on airily. "If you'd taken one more wrong turn, you might've found—well. Never mind. That's not for you to know."

Izuku keeps still. Is he talking about Ragdoll? If he's talking about Ragdoll like it's a secret, then… that means they don't know that Izuku knows about her.

Someone touches his face, and Izuku startles back into his chair. Toga stands before him, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she rubs a bit of blood between her thumb and forefinger.

"You sure bleed a lot," she remarks brightly. "We'll have to have a little, ah, talk soon. I wouldn't want it to go to waste."

Whatever that means.

The lights in the room flicker a little. The power must be faulty still. It hasn't happened often, that Izuku has been able to see, but since he hasn't seen much of anything besides this room, it could be useful to keep in mind.

The next touch is a gentle one, a light tap from One For All to get his attention. I'm sorry, he says. I should have been more helpful to you then. I'm not… used to this. Acting, instead of observing. He shakes his head. What you did was foolish, but you weren't wrong. That hero's time is running out—my brother won't keep her much longer without taking her quirk, and once he's done that, he'll either discard her or use her further. And I don't know which is worse.

Izuku keeps his eyes on the villains around him, watching through the gaps in his tangled curls. I don't think I'll get another chance to escape like that anytime soon, he says. But if I can at least wake her up and free her, then maybe she has a better chance than me. You said she was sedated. Is there a way to counteract that?

The ghost's eyes light up. Wait here, One For All tells him. I'll ask around.

On the second morning after Izuku is taken, his belongings arrive on Inko's doorstep. It isn't much—just his clothes and toiletries, personal camping supplies, everything he took with him on the trip. Someone even managed to find his phone in the woods; the screen is cracked in several places, but otherwise it's still in working order.

She puts his clothes in the laundry basket, puts away the rest of his things, and picks up his phone.

Inko does know the passcode. She's never used it before—she's not the sort of parent to go snooping through her son's texts—but they both can unlock each other's phones, just in case of emergencies. This is an emergency.

At first she only wants the number from his contacts; if the person she wants to speak to cares about her son as much as she thinks (hopes) he does, then calling him from her son's phone will only alarm him needlessly.

But when she calls from her own phone, no one answers, and the line goes straight to a pre-recorded voicemail greeting. Inko grits her teeth and tries once more before she gives up, and calls from Izuku's phone.

It's picked up after two rings.

"H-hello?" He stammers. Inko has never imagined him stammering. He doesn't seem like the sort of person who would ever stammer.

For a moment, her voice sticks in her throat. But she rallies herself, and presses on.

"My name is Midoriya Inko," she says. It's a good place to start, to let him know that the name that probably popped up when the call came through is not the name of the person talking to him. "I—I know you must be busy. And I hope I won't take up too much of your time. But—there's something I was hoping to ask you. I don't think it's something you'll want overheard." Her throat bobs as she swallows. "If—if you're in the middle of something right now, then it can wait. But if you have any time at all—" Her voice catches. "I'd like to talk to you face to face. I think it's overdue."

He knows her address already. Of course he does. He's a teacher, after all; even if Izuku wasn't the one to tell him, he has access to her son's student file. It takes him all of ten minutes to arrive on her doorstep. Inko has to wonder if he even needed transportation.

And that is how she finds herself with All-Might in her living room, hunched and uncomfortable on her sofa with a cup of tea dwarfed in his hands, and Mika attempting to climb into his lap. There haven't been ghosts in her house in a while—they're all out looking.

All-Might has a ghost, Inko remembers. She teaches Izuku things, and makes jokes about his height. Inko wonders if that ghost is out looking, too.

"Mrs. Midoriya—"

"I need you to know that I'm not blaming you."

He doesn't look like he believes her. Her voice comes out harder and harsher than she intended, but that's the fear leaking in. And even if he does believe her, it looks like he's blaming himself plenty.

Good, a harsher, crueler part of her thinks. She does her best to squash it down.

"And even if I was, this isn't about blame," she continues. "This is about talking to you about my son, which as I said is long overdue."

The hero before her shuts his eyes. It's almost a flinch. "Mrs. Midoriya, I swear to you that we are doing everything—"

"I don't want platitudes," she says coldly. "I don't want to be reassured, because I can't be reassured. I want the truth. So tell me, All-Might—did this happen because of One For All?"

It's not that All-Might has been fidgeting much since he arrived, but now he freezes. His eyes are wide as he looks at her, blue and ringed with black. Not even his hands shake.

"You're surprised," she says. "That… that bothers me, that you would bring that kind of change to my son's life and expect him not to tell me, but that's a problem for another day. I know my son has his own life and is old enough to make informed decisions, but I don't like not knowing things about him." She sets her own cup down, more forcefully than is polite. "Since yesterday, I've had nothing but apologies and reassurances, and if I hear one more promise that someone's doing 'everything in their power' to find my son, I might scream. So answer me honestly." She looks him in the eye. "Was he targeted because of the power you gave him? Do you know what they want with him?"

"It's possible," he answers. His voice is tight. "This attack was spearheaded by Shigaraki, the villain who—who accosted him at the mall. I don't think it likely that he knows about the connection between myself and young Izuku, but—it might—" His jaw clenches. He isn't trying to smile. "How much did your son tell you?"

"About One For All and what it can do. About your offer. And… that there was something else he couldn't tell me." Inko pauses. "Some other secret you had, that was not his secret to tell, and was dangerous to risk exposing. I told him that I didn't have to know if it didn't put him in danger, and he didn't tell me."

"Ah." All-Might gives a short sigh, and places down his own cup. He hesitates, and his face is hard to read but it looks like he's mentally wrestling with himself. "I understand. And for what it's worth, you're right. I've… I've done you wrong, and you deserve the truth." He puts his hands on his knees and bows his head, and—

In an instant he's swathed in clouds of smoke. Inko tries not to startle, and rises to open a window.

"Wait." There's something different about All-Might's voice. The pitch is the same, but something in the timbre and underlying resonance has changed. It sounds less like low thunder, less like the voice of a symbol, and more like…

Well, more like a voice.

"This can't get out," All-Might tells her, as the smoke dissipates and reveals him once more.

Inko sits back down, hard.

"This is the truth," the frail skeleton of a man continues. "The truth is that I have fought the leader of the League of Villains before—not Shigaraki Tomura, but the man behind him—and this was the result. The truth is that I have no reason to believe this shadow leader doesn't know that I passed my power to your son. The truth is that I don't know what he wants with young Izuku, but it can't be good. The truth is—" His voice breaks. His gaunt face is dry and smooth of emotion, but Inko can see it burning in his sunken eyes. "The truth is that I fear for him."

Izuku has spoken before about the appearances ghosts sometimes have. Injured, crippled, and deformed appearances. She wonders if this is how he sometimes feels, seeing someone damaged beyond repair and wondering how they got to be that way.

"Thank you," she says softly. "For being honest."

"It was never my intention to come between you and your son—"

"You didn't," Inko tells him. "All-Might, my husband passed away years ago, and I have raised my son almost single-handed ever since." (The almost is a sticking point—she feels it isn't her place to tell him about the ghosts before Izuku has the chance, but she has to give credit where it's due.) "I know my son has his secrets, and I know that even when he tells the truth he'll omit things to keep from worrying me, but at the end of the day, we've built up a lot of trust between us. That trust can survive you." She folds her hands tight together, whitening her knuckles with pressure. "And I can tell that—that Izuku feels the same about you. I thought it was just admiration, and maybe it was at first, but… he does trust you. So, in spite of everything, I'm going to trust you, too." She catches All-Might's gaze and holds it. "Please don't make me regret it."

He dips his head to her, practically bowing while still seated. "You may be tired of hearing it, but it is the truth: I will not rest until both of my students are safe."

"Thank you," she answers, rising from her seat. All-Might stands up a moment later. "And… thank you, for trusting me as well."

He nods, probably seeing the way she takes in his appearance.

"I have to say," he says quietly, as he steps toward her door. "You're taking this… not as poorly as I expected." He gestures vaguely at himself, at the way his hero costume hangs so loosely on his form.

"We all have secrets," Inko tells him wearily. "I do. My son does. You aren't special."

All-Might blinks at her, and for a moment the creases of worry in his face smooth out with surprise. "You know what," he says softly, thoughtfully. "I think you're the first person ever to say that to me."

In the morning, it's not Shigaraki who brings him to All For One; it's Compress.

Izuku awakens inside one of the villain's marble prisons. He tries to thrash, but he can't; Compress didn't bother to take him off the chair before imprisoning him. There was no warning. No one even bothered waking him from his doze before it happened. Where's Bakugou? What's happening outside? Why is he here, again?

Before the fear can progress to panicked tears, the closed darkness vanishes and releases him into the world again. He lands on his side, borne down to the floor by the weight of the chair, and bites back a yell of pain when his wrist lands between the floor and the arm of the chair it's secured to. He manages to wriggle it free, wincing, before the straps and buckles spring free as if of their own accord. Instinctively Izuku scrambles to his feet and faces All For One. The door behind him shuts. Compress is already gone.

"I'm curious," All For One says mildly. "Did you honestly believe that such a rushed escape plan would actually work?

Izuku opens his mouth to reply, and manages a hoarse croak. He tries again. "It was worth it just to try." His voice shakes. It's possibly because his hammering heart is sending tremors through his entire chest.

"You're awfully quick to say that." The mild tone takes on an edge, and Izuku finds himself stepping back. "What did you think would happen? Did you think you would get far, when two of your captors could call you back on a whim? Now you're back, and you leave me no choice but to decide on fitting consequences. How should I reprimand you, for the lesson to stick? Or rather—who should I punish?"

Izuku thinks of Ragdoll, lying sedated in her own lonely room. He takes a chance. "You have me or Bakugou," he says, letting his voice shake like it wants to. "I don't care what you do to me, and if you think Bakugou scares that easy, then you're not as smart as you think you are." His voice cracks on the word think. It's not forced. He wants to cry.

He waits for All For One to call him on his bluff, but the villain simply gives a soft hm and does not reply immediately. Hope lights up within Izuku's chest. Is it possible? Does All For One not know that he knows about Ragdoll?

"Interesting," All For One remarks. "Am I to understand that your friend Bakugou is an acceptable sacrifice to you?"

The word friend sounds sour in Izuku's ears. Hot shame fills him, choking out the hope. That wasn't what he meant, of course—but that was sort of what he ended up saying anyway.

He clenches his fists. He's alone right now. One For All hasn't gotten back to him yet, and none of the others will go near this room. He's on his own.

"The more you hurt us," he says. "The more All Might will hurt you when he gets here."

All For One chuckles, and the edge in his voice sharpens like a blade against Izuku's throat. "Is that what you're telling yourself? Which of us are you trying to convince?"

"It's a fact—"

"Oh come now, let's not have any pretense," All For One breaks in, his voice as slick and dark as oil. "I know as well as you do that his days as a hero are numbered—and perhaps his days on this earth are, as well." Izuku's shoulders tense. "He's gotten weaker, hasn't he." All For One is smiling, and he has no eyes for it to reach. "Were I a gambling man, I would bet he was weak even before he gave you that power." He gestures vaguely at his medical equipment. "It all balances out, doesn't it? At the end of the day, what do you think he has that I do not?"

Izuku thinks for a moment.

"Hair?" he says.

He hits the wall.

There's no warning. All For One barely moves at all, except for his right arm. It moves—grows—expands—shifts and changes into a single bristling, misshapen mass that strikes Izuku like a battering ram, driving the wind from his lungs as he's slammed back into the wall.

Full Cowl comes to him unbidden as he struggles, but he might as well not even bother. Five percent is nothing to the power that All For One now wields against him. As Izuku thrashes and claws at the misshapen hand holding him, he feels the powerful digits close around his throat. With a mere tightening of his fingers, All For One stops him from breathing.

"I told you before that I respect you," All For One says, as calm as a summer day while Izuku suffocates in his grip. "But if you cannot offer me the same in return, then I must act accordingly. I have tried to be courteous, but that was a mistake, if it makes you think you have the right to treat this like a joke." Izuku kicks uselessly at the swollen arm, and All For One shakes his head in disapproval. "Courtesy costs you nothing, Midoriya."

Darkness creeps in at the edges, and Izuku goes limp and thinks, all right, he's made his point. But the grip on his throat does not loosen even then. Panic sinks back in as the darkness fills his vision, and Izuku gives one final thrash before everything goes black.

He comes to on the floor, crumpled and wheezing against the thin carpet. His throat aches, and his head is a dizzy, nauseous mess.

"Stand up, now," All For One says, chiding. "Let's try again."

Izuku stays where he is, struggling to fill his brain with oxygen again. A shape looms over him, blocking out the light, and on instinct Izuku crawls away from it until he hits a wall.

"Oh, come now," All For One tuts. "You merely fainted, that's all." He pauses, while Izuku continues to get his breath back. "I suppose that was a bit severe. If you feel too unwell to continue this conversation, I can call Mr. Compress to take you back again."

Izuku forces himself to his feet.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the arm retract, shrink, and become an arm once more. All For One folds his hands in his lap and gives him a pleasant smile, nodding to the righted chair. Izuku stumbles over and falls into it again.

"Are you ready to take this seriously?"

Izuku nods wordlessly.

"Good. Now—where were we? Ah, right. Your friend Bakugou, and your willingness to sacrifice him." The smile widens. "Callousness? Or do you have that much faith in him? Or, more likely… he has done nothing to deserve your loyalty." He pauses, considering him. "You seem like the sort who saves his loyalty for those who deserve it.

Izuku keeps silent.

"You may answer, as long as you answer seriously."

"He's—consistent." It hurts to talk now. Izuku's voice comes out as a croak. He would love to ask for water, but he can't be sure All For One won't think he's being flippant again. "He's strong. He can take it. We both can."

"Interesting," All For One muses. Izuku looks up at him curiously, and All For One smiles again, as if sensing his confusion. "That you believe he's strong. You really are a child of All Might's world, if you think that is what strength is."

"He's always been strong." It's easier just to whisper, Izuku finds. It hurts less, and his voice sounds less wobbly.

"I have watched his progress, as I have watched yours," All For One says. "I have seen a little bit of how he treats you, and I can understand why you resent him. Would it comfort you to know that he deserves it?" Izuku looks away. "What's more, I can tell you now that he is powerful, and destructive, but he is not strong. Would you like to know why?"

Izuku doesn't answer.

"Would you like to know why?" All For One repeats.

"Sure—I-I mean, yes," Izuku corrects himself. All For One smiles again.

"Because the strong are those who use emotion as a catalyst to action," he explains. "Fear. Love. Hatred and anger."

Izuku coughs. "He does that. Bakugou does that."

"Ah, you speak from experience! But no. He does not." All For One shakes his head. "His anger is not a catalyst, boy, it is the sole driving force. And that—that is not strength. That is weakness, because it is so easily redirected and guided. He possesses a great deal of power, but he is still weak." He pauses. "But you? You're quite a different story."

Izuku stares at the floor and focuses on breathing.

"You have anger of your own," All For One says. "But yours is on a leash. It doesn't drive you; it answers to your call. You keep it cold instead of burning out of control. And that, Midoriya Izuku, is strength. It's cleverness and guile, and it should be nurtured. That part of you deserves to thrive."

All For One's tone makes Izuku look up. It's so pointed, how he says it. "It will," he says.

The villain shakes his head pityingly. "The world you long so much to live in will choke it out before it has the chance, because there are only two kinds of anger it will allow. The kind that burns brightly, or none at all."

Izuku's head hurts. One moment All For One's throttling him, and the next he's layering on the praise and life advice, and Izuku is starting to lose track of which way is up or down.

"Look at the heroes that have risen to the top. All-Might, who laughs and smiles away the fear and anger and darkness. Endeavor, who lets his rage fuel his fires. That is what your precious world holds dear: pretty lies, and rage. That is why it will never accept you the way you are. That is why it will hold up those like your friend Bakugou, who lets his temper command him with no regard for the damage it causes. A mere thug, no more than a bully who squanders his blessings. Is that the sort of shield this world needs?"

"We're kids," Izuku whispers. "We're—we're in school, that's what it's for—"

"Ah," All For One says. "I see. You think he'll change."

Izuku clenches his teeth.

"You think someone like that, shaped and encouraged by the world that All-Might has created, will ever learn to control that anger. You think he'll ever understand and accept that he has to, when no one in that world has ever told him that he is wrong."

"But—"

"Do you think a mere teacher can break through that kind of arrogance?" All For One asks. "I can tell you know that it can't. And I know this because of you, boy. Because All-Might will try to change you, or has already tried to change you, and yet you sit before me, still yourself."

"He's teaching me," Izuku says. "I'm just—there are things I need to improve on, and he helps me—"

"He does not want you to improve," All For One says sadly. "He just wants you to be him."

Izuku's traitor brain drags him back, forces a memory on him. It's one of the days leading up to the Sports Festival, a pep talk from All-Might.

I don't have much time left as a pillar of justice . And so, as the next All-Might, the fledgling Symbol of Peace , you must use this stage to announce yourself to the world.

He hadn't thought much of it at the time. Being called 'the next All-Might' by All-Might himself.

"I do not need to see your face to know that that will never be," All For One continues. "You will never be All-Might."

"I know that," Izuku says, and his voice breaks in and out as he regains his power of speech. "I'm not trying to be."

"As well you shouldn't. Students are supposed to learn from their teachers, not copy them." Warm approval seeps into All For One's voice, and in anyone else it would sound reassuring, but Izuku feels the ice beneath him thin. "But All-Might cannot see that. He only knows his way, and he can only teach his way, and because of that, he will only see it as a failure when you inevitably carve your own path. He will only see you as a failure. And as long as the world praises those like Bakugou, that is all anyone will see." He pauses. "I can give you a chance to change that."

Let him win, One For All had said. Izuku drags memories of pain and darkness and laughter as a closet door closes, until the tears run and the soft sobs force themselves free.

In the end, it is to his very great relief that All For One sends him back by his own power, instead of calling Compress to do the job. The black sludge deposits him back in the room, swollen-eyed and drained, and he puts up no resistance when they lock him up again.

Bakugou's eyes burn into the side of his head. His former friend is watching him closely, but Izuku can't afford to care. Better to be scrutinized by Bakugou than any of the villains.

One For All is at his side in an instant, looking troubled as he signs. Did he hurt you?

It's all right. Nothing bad happened.

Your throat.

Izuku gives his head a tiny shake. I'm fine. What did you find out?

One For All beckons, and another ghost moves forward. She's a tired-looking woman, even after death. "They keep a serum to counteract the sedatives they use," she says. "In case of an accidental overdose on a prisoner they want alive. They tried to use it on me, but I had an allergic reaction to one of the active ingredients, so…" Her voice trails off. "It's in the same room that woman is being kept in. If you can get there, I can show you."

Izuku purses his lips. Through the curtain of his hair, he watches the other villains. It's the usual crowd, plus the villain he hasn't seen much of yet, the one that they call Twice. The latter mutters to himself, or to no one in particular, and the other villains seem to regard him with mixed pity and amusement. It's a decent distraction in which to hold a finger-spelled conversation.

They'll take me to the bathroom later, he says. I might be able to slip away, if there's a decent diversion.

They'll be watching you carefully, One For All points out.

I won't be gone for long. Just long enough to free her, and give her time.

"What kind of distraction did you have in mind?" the woman asks.

Izuku's brow furrows. You can mess with electronics, can't you? There has to be something nearby you can break. He bites his lip. Just not too close or convenient, or he might suspect that I do know what my original quirk is.

"It won't be easy," the woman says wryly. "When it comes to touching solid things, we're pretty limited.

I've been here for a couple of days now, Izuku tells her. Try again, and you might surprise yourself.

One For All's face lights up, and he signs excitedly. They've been having trouble with the power in some of these hallways, he says. You probably haven't noticed, since you've mostly been teleported back and forth, but the wiring is off in the main lights, and they focus both their power and their emergency power on their priority functions, like my brother's medical equipment and the doctor's… work.

Izuku nods. That should make it easy to mess with, then—wait. What work? He asks.

"You didn't tell him?" the woman says, with a pointed look at One For All.

He has to focus on his own escape. Knowing about that won't help him get out faster. At least if he frees Ragdoll then she can take what she knows back to—

Izuku moves his foot. To anyone else it probably looks like a bored swing of his leg, but to One For All it feels like a kick to the shin.

I don't like being kept in the dark. He flashes a quick glare at One For All. What work?

The spirit looks pained. This… For a moment it looks like he's going to refuse him outright. Look, this is the facility where the Noumu are made. It's a big facility. But you need to not worry about that right now, and focus on staying alive and making it out. I know you're very brave and very clever, but you're still a kid and you need to survive this.

Izuku grinds his teeth until his skull aches. Noumu. Tsubasa and the other ruined ghost—that locked door. Was that what they were trying to show him?

It takes a great deal of effort, but he finally manages to shove that bit of knowledge in a file for later.

It's All For One's own stupid mistake, bringing them here. All-Might and the other heroes will find them eventually. When they do, they'll bring this place down around his ears. Izuku just has to make sure they get here fast.

Katsuki has never been one for wondering. His thinking has always happened in a fairly straight line, and people who get things done by thinking a lot are the ones who aren't strong enough to get them done with a punch.

But he sees Deku now, and he sees the way the villains act around him, and he wonders.

He wonders about how quiet Deku is, with his meek complicity and his infuriatingly docile reactions to everything these shithead villains do. He wonders about how often he vanishes, apparently to chat up the shadow leader himself while all Bakugou gets to do is listen to Shigaraki's manic recruitment pitches until exploding his own goddamn face starts to sound appealing.

He wonders about how much quieter Deku is now than he was when he first got here. How little he fights. How sharply he watches things around him. How he offers weak little smiles to some of the villains, if they happen to talk to him.

How he won't even look in Katsuki's direction anymore.

Katsuki isn't stupid. He knows that getting hit three or more times by the same villain group within the space of a school term isn't normal for the top hero school of the country. He knows it can't be a coincidence that this group knew details about both the USJ trip and the forest trip when the school keeps those things under wraps. He knows they have to be getting their information somewhere.

And now, he looks at Deku and he wonders.

It seems absurd at first. Deku's a sneaky, mealy-mouthed little shit who doesn't know what's good for him, but he's never made it a secret what he wants. Nobody who wants to be a hero as bad as Deku does would ever snitch to scum like this.

But that doesn't do away with the meek little smile Deku gives that Toga bitch while she leans on his chair and chats him up.

When the possibility gets lodged in his head, Katsuki's first reaction is one of fury. If Deku's some kind of traitor, then Katsuki would be happy to string him up with his own hands. That's what he'd do to any traitor: he'd end them without a thought, no questions asked.

And yet he has questions now.

Questions like why?

And the answer comes from a place he wish it didn't, because questions that come to him from Aizawa's mouth make too much sense to brush aside.

People have limits. Even the kindest, most patient people have limits. They're fallible. They can be pushed too far.

His hands ache as phantom pains grip his knuckles, memories of so many punches, so many blows so casual that he's forgotten most of them. He thinks of yanked hair, careless burns from letting his quirk go wild.

He thinks of… of a closet door? What closet door? When was that? He's forgotten. For the life of him, he can't remember.

How you treat your allies can be the difference between having help, and being utterly alone.

Deku has never been an ally. He's been a stepping stone, or a pebble on the side of the road. Never someone to walk beside. But now he is, and now…

Now it might not even matter. Now it might be too late. Maybe it was already too late before he even got here.

And so Katsuki sits, and he seethes, and he wonders.

He sees Deku duck his head at Shigaraki instead of showing his teeth like a hero ought to do to a villain, and he wonders.

Is this my fault? Did I do this?

He has never felt so alone.

The third time Eijirou is firmly but politely escorted to a hospital waiting room since morning, one of his classmates is actually there to see a nurse ushering him out of the hallway. Eijirou doesn't quite know what he looks like at this point, but it must not be pretty if it shoves Iida into Mom Friend mode in no time flat.

(Then again, Kirishima's been drifting around here since yesterday, waiting for news about Jirou's condition, desperate to be surrounded by friends but equally desperate to keep them from seeing how wrecked he's been since the camp. Classmates have come and gone, some of them staying, some of them going home, but Iida's been a constant.)

"I'm worried about you, Kirishima-kun." Eijirou's in a chair now. When did he end up in a chair? "If you need to talk, then you don't need to hold back." There's a steadying hand on his shoulder, and that helps bring him further into the here and now.

"It's fine." Eijirou flashes a quick grin. "I wasn't injured or anything. Never even left the facility." His stomach dips and twists as he says this. He never even left. Barely even sniffed danger while everyone else fought for their lives—

"I wasn't talking about physical injury. Kirishima—" Iida grips his shoulder lightly, compelling him to look him in the eye. "I haven't seen you with anyone. Are you here alone? Do you need help getting home?"

"No," Eijirou says, a little too quickly. "N-no, I don't—I mean, I'm fine. Kaminari and Ashido are sitting with Jirou, and Sero's with them, and everybody else is doing their own thing and I… I mean I don't want to bring the mood down any further, but I just… I don't want to go home yet."

"Well, I'm not doing anything at the moment," Iida says. "I'd be happy to keep you company."

"Dude, no, I'll be fine, you don't have to—"

"What if I want your company?"

It's getting harder to smile, and Eijirou's grin is getting weaker. "I-I mean… have you checked on Uraraka, or…" He hesitates. "Or Todoroki?"

He hasn't seen much of Todoroki, and he gets the feeling that it's because Todoroki doesn't want to be seen. Uraraka's only a little better, by keeping Ashido or Yaoyorozu company, and sometimes it looks like she's barely holding it together, but at least she's showing something. As far as Eijirou knows, Todoroki hasn't. At all.

"They seem to be checking on each other quite frequently," Iida says. "Which I… honestly I should find it reassuring. I've been worried about Todoroki, and I've always known Uraraka to be a rock of good sense, and yet… I get the feeling they're avoiding me."

"Ah, that sucks."

They talk for a while, until Iida apparently decides Eijirou's not about to have a nervous breakdown, and then they both move on again. Eijirou makes an effort to keep his mind in the present; if he sinks to deep in thought, he's liable to end up somewhere he shouldn't be and be escorted out again. And so, he points himself in the direction of Tetsutetsu's hospital room. It's been too long since he checked up on his friend.

If he'd talked with Iida just a bit longer, or if he'd decided to visit Jirou instead, or any number of alternatives, he might never have ended up where he does. He ends up getting turned around, and in the midst of backtracking he almost barges in on Yaoyorozu while she holds a hushed conversation with Aizawa-sensei.

And that's odd, that Aizawa-sensei's here. Eijirou hasn't seen hide nor hair of heroes since they got here, and for good reason. Since the League of Villains abducted two teenagers and a pro hero, it's been all hands on deck, so what's Aizawa doing back here, talking to Yaoyorozu?

Eijirou ducks back around a corner to listen, and barely a few minutes later, he's slipping away as fast as he can.

They have a lead. They have a lead straight to the Noumu, straight to the League, straight to Midoriya and Bakugou.

And it's not a lead that the pros found, no; Yaoyorozu made it, his classmate made it. And that means that maybe his friends have a chance. Maybe—

Maybe he still has a chance.

Eijirou stops in the middle of the hallway, eyes wide.

He couldn't do anything, before. Maybe this is his chance to make up for it.

His mind races. He can't go rushing into this. Even if it weren't horrifically dangerous, there's the fact that he can't act on this without Yaoyorozu's help, and who's to say she'll help him at all?

He needs help. He can't be the only one who feels this way, can he? Ashido, Sero, and Kaminari were stuck back at the facility same as he was. They're Bakugou's friends, too. If he asked, would they come with him?

He knows for a fact that Iida's frustrated too, somewhere under all that worrying and common sense.

And Todoroki…

Todoroki would help. Kirishima's not sure why he knows that, but he does. It's as good as fact.

But Iida said that Uraraka was keeping an eye on him. Eijirou just needs to catch him at a good moment alone and—

Mid-thought, he smacks straight into Todoroki's back.

His classmate startles, and the air goes cold as he turns his right side toward Eijirou before recognizing him. Eijirou sees the brace on his wrist and almost trips over himself.

"I'm so sorry," he blurts. "I didn't bump your wrist, did I? Are you okay?"

"Fine." Todoroki's voice is tight. "Sorry, I need to go—"

"Wait!" Eijirou blurts, and grabs his shoulder without thinking. Todoroki gives him a look that makes him let go immediately. "I need to talk to you. It's important and I think you'll want to hear it."

For a moment he's sure that Todoroki's going to tell him to piss off. But then his classmate blinks, and a look of recognition creeps over his face. Carefully he turns around to face him fully, eyes flickering to the sides as if checking for eavesdroppers.

"Is this about Yaoyorozu?" he asks, and Eijirou almost chokes on the air he's breathing.

"How did you—" he stops short. "You already know."

"Have you talked to her?" Todoroki asks, which isn't a 'yes,' but it might as well be.

"I—I mean, no, I haven't talked to her. Yet." It takes a little more nerve than usual to look Todoroki in the eye. "You're frustrated, aren't you. I can tell." Todoroki's eyes narrow, until Eijirou adds, "I feel the same way."

Todoroki checks their surroundings again.

"I can't compare myself to you," Eijirou says, letting the volume of his voice drop. "You were out there fighting them head on, and I was stuck back in the safe zone because I was too stupid to reach the same level as the rest of you. I couldn't help. Even when Aizawa-sensei gave us permission to fight, I couldn't reach you guys, I couldn't—" He grinds his teeth in frustration. "But I have a chance now. We have a chance now. Yaoyorozu gave the pros a lead, and that means we can still reach them. We can still do something to help."

He's about to say more. He's ready to plead if he has to, because he's desperate but he isn't stupid and he knows he can't do this alone. But then approaching footsteps make him shut his mouth, and his heart sinks with disappointment when Uraraka rounds the corner.

"Todoroki, Aizawa-sensei just left so we can try and—" She snaps to a halt the second she sees Eijirou, and when her mouth slams shut, so does the look on her face.

Todoroki turns to her. "You might as well finish that sentence, Uraraka."

Her eyes flicker toward Eijirou. "You mean…?"

A bloom of hope stops his sinking heart in its tracks. "You too, huh?"

Uraraka's face is set with determination. It reminds him, distantly, of the energy that surrounded her in the days leading up to the Sports Festival. But where that was all razor-sharp smiles and devil-may-care glee, this… this is stone-cold unstoppable.

He remembers that Uraraka was out there fighting, too. Eijirou only hopes he can do them proud.

"I have one condition," Yaoyorozu says.

And really, one condition is still a lot easier than Shouto expected. One condition is miles better than an outright 'no'.

"Name it," he says.

Yaoyorozu bites her lip and looks to each of their faces one by one. It's getting on to evening, and they're gathered outside in a hospital courtyard. It's quiet, secluded, and free of prying eyes.

"This is a bad idea," she says. "You know that, right? Without even taking into account how incredibly illegal this is, it's dangerous, it's ill-advised, and it's most likely pointless."

Kirishima makes a noise of protest, and Uraraka looks away, but Shouto shrugs it off. He knows, logically, that thinking they can significantly contribute to something that every major hero in the city is already working on, is arrogance. How can they possibly help when All-Might himself is spearheading the attack?

Knowing it is one thing. Stifling the voice in his head that cries but what if is another.

"So if we're going to do this, we're doing it as smart as we possibly can." Yaoyorozu's tone brooks no argument. She's leveraging her Assistant Class Rep voice against them, and instinctive shame bubbles up in Shouto's chest before he buries it down again. "We're not going on our own. And I don't mean just us together—I mean that wherever the tracker leads, we don't go near it until the heroes do. And we don't interfere unless it's absolutely necessary."

A muffled groan of frustration escapes Kirishima.

"If you can't agree to that, then I'm ending this before it starts," Yaoyorozu says. It's not a bluff. Yaoyorozu isn't the kind of person to make empty threats.

"Fine," Kirishima says softly.

"Do you know when that is?" Uraraka asks.

Yaoyorozu nods, and her shoulders go from tense to squared. "Yes," she says. "I don't think they meant for me to know, but since I was the one who set the tracker, I've been involved whether they like it or not. It's tomorrow night."

"That late?" It slips out before Shouto can stop it.

"They have to prepare their mission," Yaoyorozu points out. "It's a lot of moving parts."

"The League will have had them for three days by then." He doesn't mean to snap. He almost regrets bringing her in like this, even if they need her to pull this off. He didn't realize that waiting on the pros to make a move meant waiting an entire day.

"Well that's how it is." Yaoyorozu's tone turns harsh. "Hero work isn't just running headfirst into a fight—it takes planning and strategy, especially when there are lives on the line. Our classmates' lives are on the line, Todoroki, are you telling me you want them to rush it with those stakes?"

Shouto grits his teeth. Kirishima reaches for his shoulder hesitantly.

"She's right, man," he says. "Look, I don't like waiting either, but the pros can't afford to get sloppy, and neither can we." Shouto shrugs off his hand.

"Todoroki." Uraraka sounds resigned. "I'm worried about him, too. But… if we don't get this right, we could end up making things worse for him. For both of them. You know that, right?"

"I know," Shouto says tersely. "I hate it, but I know."

"So that's a yes all around." Uraraka turns back to Yaoyorozu. "No jumping the gun, no going in alone, we do this as close to above-board as we possibly can."

"It leaves us with time to get ready, right?" Kirishima points out. "Best as we can—school's holding on to all our gear, so that's out."

"And there's another problem," Uraraka adds. "Every one of us has been directly in the spotlight on national TV. We're all recognizable."

"There's a shopping district close to… to where the tracker leads," Yaoyorozu says. "There's enough distance that we probably won't attract attention, and it'll be easy to get lost in the crowds."

"We need to work out when," Shouto reminds them.

"Oh, good thinking." Kirishima nods. "Yaoyorozu, what more can you tell us about what the pros are planning?"

"Um, well…" Yaoyorozu hesitates, looking uncomfortable. It takes a moment for Shouto to understand why.

"Not here," he says. "We're in public, and it's pretty exposed out here." He hesitates, pursing his lips. "Come on. We can talk more at my place."

"Is that better?" Uraraka asks skeptically.

"My father hasn't been home lately, for obvious reasons," Shouto says with a shrug. "And it's about as secure as we're going to get."

Kirishima looks eager at this. "Perks of being the number-two's kid, huh?"

"Number two is right," Shouto mutters as he heads back out of the courtyard.

"What'd you just say?" Kirishima calls.

"Nothing."

The rest follow him out. "Momo, I had a thought," Uraraka speaks up. "Going out and buying disguises costs money—do you think you could make us some stuff instead?"

"Maybe," Yaoyorozu murmurs back. "Let's discuss it more when we're at Todoroki's house—"

"You will do no such thing."

Shouto freezes. Kirishima yelps in alarm and trips into his back. The girls go still.

Striding toward them from the shadows closer to the building is the very last person Shouto hoped to see. Iida looks fit to be tied.

The four of them exchange glances.

"Um," Uraraka starts. "How long have you been listening—"

"Long enough," Iida says coldly, halting before them. "And I'm putting a stop to this here, before the four of you make a mistake we all regret."

Yaoyorozu lets out a harsh sigh. "Iida, we're not—"

"It doesn't matter!" Iida doesn't quite raise his voice, but it feels like he's shouting. "All of you—two nights ago any one of us could have died. Do you understand that? Three of you were in the thick of it—have you forgotten how dire this situation is?"

Kirishima seems to shrink in on himself. Shouto fights against a wave of unreasonable anger. It almost overtakes him completely—he's spent the past two days in a numb fog, and the sudden fury burns extra-hot and extra-sharp. He tries to clench his fists, but he can only manage one of them.

"I haven't forgotten," he says quietly.

"You can't possibly think any sane minds would approve of this!" Iida goes on, as if he doesn't hear.

"You don't have to approve," Shouto snaps. "We don't care if you like it or not, Iida. Just don't get in our way."

Iida's eyes snap toward his. "I'm surprised at you, Todoroki," he says coldly. "I would have thought that you, of all people, would know how foolish this was."

Shouto almost loses his temper then and there. "Don't push your screw-up on me," he snaps, viciously satisfied when Iida bridles. "If you'd bothered to actually listen, you'd know that our intentions are different—"

"I don't care about your intentions! What you're doing is breaking the law and needlessly throwing yourselves into danger instead of letting the heroes handle things!"

"You're talking like this has nothing to do with us!" Shouto retorts. "You said yourself, three of us were there—we already have a stake in this because we were involved from the beginning!"

"And you survived! We survived and we escaped, and I know you're upset about Midoriya, but do you really think he'd want you running back into danger after you barely escaped with your life before?"

"He would do the same for any one of us," Shouto grits out, and then he keeps going, because he is just angry and afraid enough to be cruel. "And you know that, because he already had to."

Iida punches him.

The others gasp, but Shouto lets it come. He's almost glad of it; it's the most he's felt since the night of the attack.

"Iida—" Uraraka tries.

"That was low." Iida's voice shakes, his still-clenched fist shakes, every part of him shakes. "That was low and you know it."

"Was it a lie?" Shouto asks. He isn't bleeding, but his cheekbone throbs. He'll probably have a bruise there tomorrow.

"How could you use that to defend yourself?" Iida demands. "Don't you see the hypocrisy?"

Shouto finds his own hands shaking now, too. "Iida—"

"Don't you see that you're about to make the same mistake I did?" Iida's voice rises in volume. "Don't you remember how angry he was with me? What makes you think it'll be any different for you—" Shouto grabs a fistful of Iida's shirt—in his left hand, because his right is still splinted. Surprise registers on Iida's face as Shouto yanks him closer and grits out his answer through clenched teeth.

"I had him, Iida."

Iida's eyes widen. "What—"

"I had him. I was holding on to him, when they took him. When they pulled him through that gate." Pressure builds behind his eyes, hot and stifling. "I had him. And then I let him go."

He sees Iida's eyes lower, traveling from his face to his injured hand. He sees the moment that confusion becomes dawning realization.

"Todoroki." Uraraka's voice is soft and careful at his side. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, we know you, man," Kirishima adds. "If there was anything you could've done, you would have—"

"There wasn't," Shouto says. "And I didn't."

Iida's hand rests on Shouto's fist. "Think about what would have happened if you hadn't let go," he says, and his voice is full of compassion but Shouto doesn't want compassion, he just wants Iida to understand. "They would have taken you too."

"I don't care about what would have happened," Shouto tells him. "What did happen was that I had him, and then I let go." The pressure in his eyes turns to burning, and he releases Iida roughly. "I know. I know the pros are handling it, and I know it's just arrogance. I know there's nothing I can do that they can't already. But I also know that—that if they're not enough…" His voice catches. "If he dies, while I sat at home and did nothing, I will regret it forever." He looks Iida in the eye, willing him to understand. "I'm not out for revenge. I don't want to get even. I just want to do everything I can to help my friend." He hesitates a moment more, then goes in for the kill. "Don't you?"

Iida looks away first.

"Iida…" Kirishima speaks up next. "It's like you said. Only three of us were in the thick of it. I couldn't help. And that… that doesn't sit right with me. I want a chance to be there for my friends. For both of my friends."

Iida's knuckles are white. Gingerly Shouto ices the side of his face that his friend struck.

"They're going to do it," Yaoyorozu says. "One way or another. We might as well make sure they do it as smart as possible."

A harsh sigh spills past Iida's lips. "This is not a good idea. I do not approve of this." His eyes turn to Shouto again, narrowed in disapproval. "This goes against everything I've learned from my own mistakes. Everything Midoriya himself helped hammer into my head. You know that."

"If he's angry with me for it, then at least he'll still be alive to be angry," Shouto says. "And maybe if I'm lucky, he'll even live long enough to forgive me."

Iida holds his gaze a moment more, then locks eyes with the others as well.

"If I try to stop you, I'll fail," he says. "If I go running to a pro hero about it, I'll only distract them from their mission. If I let you go, I'll have no way of ensuring you all don't get yourselves or others killed." He sighs again, short and harsh. "You really haven't given me a choice but to come along."

"Glad that's settled then," Kirishima says, forcing a smile.

Shouto rubs at his sore face as he turns away. "Can we go now? We need to discuss our strategy."

Five is better than four is better than two is better than none.

The ghosts are clever about it.

The flickering happens throughout the day, with greater severity than Izuku has seen yet. The villains take little notice of it, for the most part. Shigaraki mutters to himself in annoyance. Toga draws Twice into a game in which they stand up and sit down each time the lights turn on and off. She sees Izuku watching, and smiles.

"Maybe if you're good, we'll let you play later, too!"

Izuku smiles at her weakly. He has no idea what it must look like, but it can't be pretty.

In the evening, as Izuku is walked back from the bathroom by Twice, One For All appears and gives him a thumbs-up. The lights flicker again, and then they go dark.

Izuku's eyes adjust easily, and so he sees the villain lunging to grab him before he can escape. He knocks Twice's hand aside and takes off running.

The ghosts timed it well. At the moment, the nearest exits are in the opposite direction of Ragdoll's room. The villains will make sure to cut off escape routes first, leaving him free to get to her. Their voices guide his way as he runs.

"Not that way! Toga's coming!"

"This way, this way—you can slip past Dabi if you're quick."

"Hurry!"

"Take a right!"

"You can do it!"

Eventually, he reaches the familiar hallway, and—

"Deku."

Izuku's heart sinks. He looks over to where Tsubasa watches him, back toward the turn-off that takes him to the locked door.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'll try—later. I promise."

The hallway is empty as he ducks into the room he's looking for, and closes the door behind him.

Ragdoll doesn't seem to have moved. She's in a hospital gown, laid out limply on a cot. She's awake, with her eyes half-open, but she barely moves as Izuku walks in. There's only a single strap holding her there, secured over her waist. Her left forearm is exposed and covered in what look like sticking plasters.

"Over here." The ghostly woman is with him, pointing to a drawer. "Serum's kept in here. Don't worry, the doc won't be in to dose her for a while."

Izuku wastes no time. Sure enough, there's a sealed vial kept inside, and another drawer holds fresh hypodermic needles.

His blood runs cold. "I don't know how to—"

"I'll talk you through it," the ghost says.

"How do you know all this?" he whispers.

"I used to work here," she replies. "But then we ran short on test subjects, and… turned out I was the only one with the blood type they wanted. He didn't mean to kill me when he did, but by then, I was happy to go."

Step by step, she talks him through filling the syringe, before he finally approaches Ragdoll's bedside. It's been barely a couple minutes, but he feels like he's been here too long. The ghosts are keeping watch outside, making sure that when he does release Ragdoll, she has a clear path to freedom.

The ghost stands behind him and places her hands over his to guide them. Ragdoll is watching him, bleary-eyed and unfocused.

"Just hang on a second," he tells her shakily. "Hopefully I won't screw this up."

"Keep your hands steady," the woman says. "I'll do the rest."

It's over before Izuku's hands start shaking, and he presses his thumb to the puncture to keep it from bleeding.

"Wasn't as steady as I would've liked," the woman says ruefully. "She'll bruise, but the serum should kick in after half a minute."

He undoes the restraining straps. In the end, it takes less than that for Ragdoll to shrug him off and sit up.

"What are you doing here?" she hisses. Her voice is slightly slurred, but she's up and awake. "You shouldn't be here."

"Oh believe me, I know that."

She pauses. "Bakugou's here, as well. And there are…" She breaks off, lips moving. "Come on. Stay close to me, and we'll make it out."

He shakes his head. "I can't. I have to go back, but you need to get out. If I get back to them, they might not realize I've freed you."

"Not happening," she says as she stands up. Her legs are unsteady, her cheerful face set and serious. "That's not how it works, not when I'm the pro and you're the injured student. If only one of us can escape, then it has to be you."

His ears roar. "No it doesn't!" he argues. "You know they'll move us once a prisoner escapes, and you're the one with the quirk that can find us later!"

Ragdoll's eyes are bright and sharp with desperation and trickling fear. "At least if I stay I might be able to protect—"

"Tell me I'm wrong," Izuku says.

"I can't find you later if you're killed as punishment for freeing me!"

"They won't kill me. They want to recruit me." Izuku stares her down, heart pounding. "Ragdoll, please. There's no time."

Her eyes shine with held-back tears of frustration. "You shouldn't have taken this risk, kitten." But she turns to the door. "Come on. If you're found with me, then it's over—"

A ghost bursts through the door, wild-eyed with alarm. "They're coming. All of them, they're all headed this way, I don't know what happened but you need to get her out of here, now."

"Go," Izuku says. "Go, now-now-now-now."

There must be something in his tone that convinces her, because she throws the door open and runs out as fast as her addled state will allow. Izuku runs after her into the darkened hallway, but does not follow her further. He looks to the ghosts for cues, because if they're coming then he can find out where, and he can draw them off and give Ragdoll time. He can do this. He can save her, and in doing so maybe save himself and Bakugou.

"Wait!"

Izuku is spun around, and finds One For all tense and fearful before him, and Ragdoll at the nearest corner, unwittingly surrounded by desperate, wide-eyed ghosts.

"They're coming!"

"Tell her to turn back!"

"What?" Izuku blurts out, just as Ragdoll whirls back around to him. She sprints to his side and grabs him none too gently by the arm.

"Either run for an exit or get in that room and hide. They're here."

"But—"

"They warped into the next hallway," one of the ghost says. "All of them. They're heading this way and they know you're here."

"Head for an exit," Ragdoll orders. "I'll hold them off."

"But—"

"Go!" she cries, just as Twice rounds the corner at a run.

"Now, miss," he says, hands held out. "Please come quietly, I'd rather not—"

She takes him out with a haymaker to the jaw. "Go, kitten! Get out of here, now!" Toga is the next to appear, with Spinner and Magne not far behind.

Another hand grips his arm—it's the ghost woman again, pulling him away. "She's right. This is your chance to escape, and you're not likely to get another one."

Before Izuku can reply—before he can even make a decision—he's yanked off his feet. Nothing grabs him; one moment he's standing, and the next he's sailing through the air until he slams into Ragdoll's side. The heroine grunts with the impact, and in spite of Izuku's best efforts, he can't separate himself from her.

"Good work, Magne!" Toga chirps. "I was hoping to stab her a little, though…"

"Shift over a little," Ragdoll murmurs. "Toward my back, please."

In a moment, Izuku sees what she's trying to tell him. Instead of trying to pull away, he slides over until he's pressed against her back instead of her side, letting her arms maneuver more freely. He hears a grunt of pain from Spinner shortly before Ragdoll lunges, dragging him along.

Whoosh. Thud.

The pressure releases, and he tumbles away from Ragdoll to find her slamming the handle of Spinner's weapon into Magne's stomach. The villain doubles up, retching, and a swift elbow to the back of her neck knocks her flat. Toga lunges forward with a knife in her hand, and Izuku kicks out to trip her before she can reach Ragdoll's back.

Beneath him, the floor turns black. Izuku's blood turns to ice.

"Ragdoll, get out of the portal!" he yells, just a split second too late.

The warp gate drops them all in another room, on the cold hard floor at All For One's feet.

Izuku isn't immediately sure that it's All For One beneath that heavy metal mask. But with the telltale whir and hiss of oxygen and life support, it can't be anyone else.

For a moment, it's dead quiet. The villains are quickly on their feet: Spinner, Toga, Compress, Shigaraki, Magne, and Dabi. Kurogiri stands alongside his leader, ready to bring them back if they try to run. Ragdoll's eyes are fixed on the figure before them, flickering as she sizes him up.

All For One sighs.

"Midoriya," he says. "My dear boy, I am very disappointed in you."

Ragdoll moves.

She lunges, not toward All For One, but Kurogiri. His quirk is powerful, but Ragdoll is fast, leaping on him, then slipping a syringe from beneath her hospital gown and plunging it into his body. Spinner lunges to grab her, and Izuku tackles him away from her. Kurogiri staggers, and when Ragdoll takes him down, he doesn't get back up again.

"Compress," All For One says. Ragdoll whips around, eyes wide with alarm, and Izuku only has time for a strangled yelp before his world goes small again.

He's screaming when Compress lets him out, then imprisons him. Out, and in, again and again, each imprisonment longer than the last, until Izuku's skin crawls and bile creeps up to his throat.

His ears ring when he's let out one last time, but he can still hear Ragdoll's voice pitching through it, harsh with fury.

"—him alone! He's only a boy, you cowards!"

"That's enough, Compress," All For One says, "I think we've made our point with this troublesome child."

Every movement feels like a thousand pinpricks in his skin, like spider legs walking over every inch of him. For a moment, all Izuku can do is lie still and shake. He turns his head, but through the tunnel vision he can only catch flashes of things—Kurogiri, lying still on the floor. Ragdoll held back by both Dabi and Spinner, with a knife to her throat and Dabi's hand on the back of her neck. One For All crouching by him with a look of anguish on his face.

He knew, the spirit says. He knew, and he was waiting for you, but he never said it out loud so no one overheard it. Izuku, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—

Tears well up in Izuku's eyes, and blinking them back only makes them fall faster.

"I'm sorry," he rasps out.

"And I wish I could forgive you so easily," All For One says sadly, as if he has any right to, as if Izuku was even talking to him. "But, Midoriya—I can't trust you anymore. You tried to convince me that you didn't know about Miss Shiretoko here. And then, you went and did this. Do you understand why you have lost my trust?"

Izuku wants to scream and curse and lash out, to spit in his stupid mutilated face that he can keep his lousy trust, but now Ragdoll's here and he can't afford to do anything but lie on the floor and try not to cry.

The first escape attempt had barely been an attempt. Merely a trial run, if that. But this—

This is a far more pathetic failure than Izuku could have pictured.

"And because I can't trust you, I now have to eliminate certain risks," All For One continues, stepping away from Izuku. "I was going to wait. I had hoped she might prove useful as she was. But now…"

Through his blurring, waterlogged vision, Izuku sees him walk over to Ragdoll.

"No." The word rips from his throat, jagged and painful, and he manages to drag himself off the floor to—what? Stop him?—before arms lock around his middle, and Toga pulls him back against her chest.

"Ah-ah-ah, little Izu, you're not allowed to make us kill you yet," she whispers, her breath brushing his ear. She's stronger than she would appear, easily as strong as he is without his quirk. Compress steps closer with his hand out, and Izuku flinches back.

"Stop," his voice cracks and breaks. Ragdoll stares up at All For One with mingled confusion and anger and just a trace of fear. "All For One—please, you can't just—please don't. Don't do this."

"Clearly, I have no choice," All For One says sharply, barely turning his masked head. "You have left me no choice. Unless you are the risk that you would have me eliminate instead?"

For a wild moment, Izuku is about to tell him yes—absolutely, no questions asked. But Ragdoll sends him such a glare that his mouth snaps shut before he even realizes he opened it.

"You won't touch him," she says coldly. "If you're smart, you'll finish up with me, and you'll let those children go. You know the hell you'll bring down on yourself if you harm them." She shows all her teeth in an angry grin. "At least if you kill me, you'll only make three more enemies."

"It is such a shame, to destroy you this way," All For One sighs, his distorted voice tinged with amusement. "You're a clever one, to steal a sedative needle like that— I'll have to tell the good doctor to keep a closer eye on future patients." He holds out his hand. "If it's any comfort to you… I promise not to take your life."

"Don't!" The scream rips its way through the air from Izuku's throat. He's crying now, tears spilling freely down his face. "Please, don't do this, I'm sorry—I won't do it again, I swear, just leave her alone, don't take it from her, don't—"

"Kitten." Ragdoll's voice cuts through his pleading. She locks eyes with him from across the room, the cheerful smile back on her face. "It's okay. It's okay."

"Ragdoll, I'm sorry—"

"No, I am. I wish you hadn't taken that risk, but I'm sorry I wasted the chance you tried to give me, and it's all right, kitten, you've been so brave—" Black vines spring forth from All For One and plunge into Ragdoll's unprotected chest. Her shocked cry of pain brands itself into his memory.

He tucks his chin in to look at the floor, but four hard, unforgiving fingers grab his head and force it upward again. "Oh no," Shigaraki hisses in his ear. "You're going to watch. This is what happens when you cross Sensei, got it?"

Whatever All For One's quirk does, it's painful. Ragdoll twitches and thrashes in Dabi and Spinner's grip, grasping at herself, but she turns her face to Izuku's and smiles brightly.

"It's okay," she says, her voice tight with pain. "It's okay. Just look at me, okay? Keep looking at me, don't look away." She grasps her side, and her knee, and the smile doesn't leave her face until she finally goes limp. Dabi lets her drop. Spinner is at least gentler about lowering her to the floor.

There's no pretense this time. Izuku cries, and it's real. He cries until his mouth is dry, until he can barely breathe and his voice is cracked and crumbled to nothing. The hands and arms gripping him are gone, and he can't even bring himself to care.

All For One grasps him by the chin and tilts his face up, until Izuku is looking up at the mask through the haze of tears.

"It's all right, my boy," he says gently. Izuku jerks his face out of All For One's grip, and the villain simply takes hold of him again. "I promise you, this is as far as I will go. I won't harm her further—I have no more use for her dead or alive, and when all this is done, I will leave her for the authorities to find, alive and well. I promise you that." Izuku tries to pull away again, and still All For One keeps reaching for him, touching his face in a twisted parody of comfort. "But you understand why I had to do that, don't you? You must understand the consequences of your actions. I know it is a hard lesson. But it is one that you must learn."

"It's like in all the best stories," Spinner pipes up. "Like when the heroes' mom or sister or girlfriend dies, to make him fight harder. You gotta get that motivation from somewhere, right?"

Izuku draws in a shaky breath, and imagines wrapping his hands around Spinner's throat and squeezing. "Do whatever you want to me," he whispers. "I don't care anymore."

(But, in the back of his mind, he does. He doesn't want to lose his quirk—either of them. He doesn't want to be beaten or strangled or made to watch someone else be hurt. He doesn't want to go back into Compress's prison. He doesn't want—)

"No," All For One says gently, cupping his face with one hand. "I won't. It's all right, my dear boy. I won't punish you any further. I think you've had enough for one night."

And it's that moment that Izuku understands what makes All For One so dangerous, so lethally clever. Because in that moment, when he hears All For One's quiet reassurances, he can't bring himself to feel fear or dread or even anger. All he can feel is relief, and sickening gratitude that his captor is showing him mercy.

That's dangerous, the gratitude.

"You got so close, as well," All For One says. "I almost didn't catch you in time. You might have escaped, if you hadn't delayed." Finally he takes his hand away, and a little bit of the crawling disgust recedes. "She was right, you know. It was such a waste."

Izuku looks up, blinking back tears. "Wh-what?"

"It was such a good chance, and it went to waste. Because—what did she say to you, when you tried to rescue her? That you shouldn't have tried? That you were wrong to try?"

You shouldn't be here, Ragdoll had said. "Sh-she didn't—"

"She would have led them straight to us, if she'd escaped when she had the chance," All For One tells him, his voice still placating and gentle. "Even if we moved, her quirk—I can sense it now. Her quirk would have let her follow us to the ends of the earth. That was your plan, wasn't it? And it was a good, logical plan. But she hesitated, because you didn't follow the rules and behave like a meek prisoner." All For One's hand comes back to rest on his shoulder. "And that—that is the problem that I am trying to fix. This world that holds savagery and cruel lies in high regard, and cares more for rules and regulations than people. Do you understand?"

A shaky sob cuts off Izuku's reply. The hand on his shoulder squeezes gently.

"I said, do you understand?"

Izuku lowers his head and nods.

"…All right. Let's get you back, then. Compress?"

Beneath All For One's hand, Izuku stiffens.

"Ah." All For One pauses. "You… would prefer not to go with Compress?" Izuku keeps silent, and All For One sighs lightly. "I saw, before. His quirk—it frightens you, doesn't it." Izuku grinds his teeth and keeps silent. "I understand. We all have our fears. But—that does not mean that we cannot get stronger. And if you accept me, Midoriya, I will help you get stronger. I will help you kill the fear that lies within you." He releases Izuku's shoulder, and steps back. "That's enough, now. Toga and Magne will take you back. Compress, move Miss Shiretoko somewhere safe. Tomura, a word if you please."

Izuku is hauled to his feet and dragged back into the hallway. He manages one last look at Ragdoll before Compress's quirk makes her vanish.

The dead watch him solemnly. Their apologies and regret wash over him like water to oil. A sea of white eyes—and black, when he catches a glimpse of Tsubasa and a few other black-eyed ghosts before they vanish into the crowd.

Something tugs at his chest. Black eyes—Rei. He misses Rei. How long has it been since he last saw her?

He remembers nothing of the journey back, and only comes back into himself when he's strapped to the chair again, and finds One For All kneeling at his feet.

I failed you.

Izuku purses his lips. Rei, he answers. Find Rei.

One For All raises his head, frowning in confusion.

She's a little girl, Izuku explains. Black hair and black eyes. You'll know her when you see her, but you won't want to get close, because she'll make you feel afraid if you do. She's looking for her little brother—that's what she calls me. Find her, and tell her where I am. I need her.

One For all nods. We can do that. That's a lot to go on. We won't fail you this time, I promise. He stands up, and brushes Izuku's shoulder with his hand. I'm getting you out of here alive and with your quirks intact, if I have to die a second time to do it.

When the ghost leaves, Izuku ducks his head and doesn't think about how Bakugou is watching him. It's disconcerting, to be sure, but he doesn't think about it. He can't think about it. Not when the look on Ragdoll's face is emblazoned across his memory like that. The smile on her face, bright and pained, as she twisted and clutched at herself as if in pain. Her side, just above her right hip. One shoulder. Her knee.

Just look at me, okay? Keep looking at me, don't look away.

Izuku blinks.

It's not hope that breaks through the despair. Merely a realization.

Her side. Her shoulder. Her knee. Look at me. Don't look away.

Her quirk could sense physical weaknesses.

Side. Shoulder. Knee.

All For One.

As it sinks in, he wants to cry again. Even as her quirk was ripped from her, she still used it to help him. To give him something.

He's going to find a way to use it, if it's the last thing he does.