Darkness, raw and extensive darkness. So immersive that it makes it easy to get lost in it, and so morbid that it terrifies anyone. I always found it a fear worthy of respect, whatever your level of crudeness or support. Nothing can compare to the mystery of "What's beyond?" and "Why does it hide in the darkness of the shadows?"
It's one of the terrors we are born with. It's there for a reason, as a warning perhaps, wanting to protect us from an event that awaits in our genes after millennia and millennia of ancestors. No one knows, and maybe it's better that way.
We are human, after all. We don't have the physical and mental capacities to afford the luxury of forgetting a sensation, a feeling, as vital as fear.
I have battled, learned, appreciated, improved, reflected, and reached a tacit agreement about what my new place in the world is. Each event strengthening the mind, protecting the interior with new layers so as not to yield the will. Guided by people whose morals surpass me.
I am not the same person as yesterday. I am proud of that, and I wish to polish even more what makes me up for tomorrow. But even so, with so much experience and power... darkness makes itself felt.
I lost consciousness. I remember that without any problem. The relaxation that only a victory can bring, followed by the descent in adrenaline and the flashes of the cameras were too much.
I was dizzy, I wanted to sit down, I didn't manage it. I fell carelessly, unconscious before my head hit the ground. I don't know how it all ended for the rest, but I know we won.
And that's the only thing that matters.
I observed each side, then slightly my back, returned to the front, and nothing changed. Endless black void kept the attention on itself.
I considered that I had died, it even seemed funny. What would become of my soul in sorrow? What transcends that can be so unreal that predicting it was impossible.
I took a step forward, then two. Soon I was walking carefully. I didn't want to lose any possible path, if there was one, of course.
A glance at my body confirmed that I was still Izuku Midoriya, or well... whatever that union of souls was a while ago. A name becomes unimportant when you're in the middle of nowhere.
No noise changed the panorama. If it was a purgatory, then I detested God. He could have been a little more creative with his sacred places. So many powers and such a closed mind. Feminists wouldn't hesitate to hate him for that. It's not as if such opinions had any real value anyway.
It was with the thought of powers that I remembered something obvious, but which I neglected while immersed in reflection on the environment. I squared my body and tried to activate One For All, looking for that sensation, that emotion that something so out of reality could give you.
I felt the pull that usually accompanied it at the beginning, like a switch being flipped, but nothing happened. It was there, I was clear on that. It just seemed different.
Maybe it was related to what happened during the encounter with All For One. It wasn't impossible. He had been gone for a brief moment, as if he had never been there in the first place.
I was about to sigh, plagued with doubts and without answers, when a green light began to take shape. I was stunned, observing with wide-open eyes at the novel phenomenon.
Soon it became clearer. It was a bright sphere the size of my palm. Faint lightning crackled in tune with the erratic movement it made around. It seemed to be excited, passing between my shoulders and hands for no apparent reason.
It didn't look dangerous. Quite the contrary, it was familiar. Like...
"One For All," I murmured in astonishment, not believing what I had in front of me. "I don't remember you like this in the original work."
It stopped, not knowing how to explain that. Well, it couldn't give much of an answer either.
"Anyway, you weren't so conscious then, and here you are. The details don't matter," I dismissed the case, waving a hand to diminish its value.
They are changes in my favor. There are few of those to enter into the realm of doubts.
It moved in acceptance, beginning to head far from the position where we were.
I found myself following it instantly. I didn't want to lose the only source of light and security I had. Besides, I already supposed where I was. It was just a little different from how it was portrayed.
I considered it surprising that the faint light of One For All barely detailed anything of the entire great void. It gave the sensation of being just an ant before the world. I hadn't felt such a thing since I had transmigrated.
The walk ended up being short. We stopped in what was still darkness, with nothing remarkable and unorthodox. I didn't understand when what was supposed to happen was happening, and waiting was becoming irritating.
I observed the bright ball that was One For All, with my arms crossed and waiting for an answer. I wasn't asking for much, just a direct event to the obvious.
"Well? This is losing its meaning." I waited for an answer that, of course, never came, classic of the semi-conscious power that resided within. "Maybe something simpler like..."
Before I could start to ramble, a cold shiver ran down my spine. I wanted to get on guard, but it was impossible. I was paralyzed for no apparent reason.
Not in a negative way... well, there isn't a positive one for such a thing, right?
I managed to turn around and... found what I expected.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet... Transmigrant."
The first wielder of One For All, the one who began the greatest cycle of all with his brother, was the first to greet.
The words came with force. He held no mysticism in revealing the knowledge about my past life.
I sighed. I expected such a thing. They had access to the purest state of whoever carries the sacred torch. It was stupid to expect anonymity.
"Likewise," I nodded my head, taking a step forward to be within the illuminated area, but away from the center. "I've... been wanting to meet you all for a long time."
I hesitated on the last part. At the beginning, I was actively seeking to establish contact to make use of the Quirks they offered. However, as time went on, it wasn't necessary, and I abandoned that goal.
"We know, like the vast majority of things that involve you and by extension... us." Yoichi extended his arms, anchoring the rest of the wielders who remained silent. "We have many unanswered questions."
"And they will stay that way. I can suppose their nature," I shook my head. It was unnecessary to elaborate on the subject. "I'm in the dark when it comes to my arrival in this world."
"But you haven't made much of an effort to investigate either," Hikage Shimori, the fourth wielder, spoke for the first time. His voice firm and calm, like a sensible leader. "As if you were afraid to do so."
I snorted. Nothing could be scarier than being face to face with the dangerous All For One without a Quirk.
"It makes no sense for me to do so. I'll end up wasting valuable time on something irreversible," I declared the obvious. I had been clear on that for a long time. "This is my life now, for better... or for worse."
I fell silent, taking the time to analyze in detail the people present. I was surprised by how similar yet different they were from the memory I had.
There were small scars and infinitesimal details that altered a little who they were shown as on a page, but nothing extraordinary. It was always the same feeling when I crossed gazes with these people.
The change between a memory and the real thing... was fascinating.
"Your life? As I recall, you haven't even been here for a year," Nana Shimura, All Might's predecessor, accused abruptly, cutting off any applied silence. "With what right can you say such a thing?... A noble young man died for you."
She fixed her eyes on me, dark as coal and full of a negative will directed at a common recipient.
I frowned. I accepted what she was accusing, but I had to defend myself. All of this was not my fault.
"I say it with the authority of someone who carries the consequences of his actions despite not having asked for them. Do you think this is the desired life? That I like to be in the sights of the most powerful idiots possible?" I pointed a finger at her, annoyed by the careless comments towards me.
Maybe it was true. I had been in the fantastical world that "My Hero Academia" represents for less than a year, but... did I have the opportunity to choose?
"And with respect to the latter... that 'noble young man' and I came to a mutual agreement, so I would ask you to respect it... by keeping quiet." We both maintained eye contact, unwilling to yield our positions.
I wouldn't allow the spirit of a dead person to judge me. I respected the woman, but even that has a limit.
"Then I'm the most violent wielder," Daigoro muttered under his breath, snorting at the scene he was seeing in front of him.
"No one believes that. You're seeing things where there are none," Yoichi replied, not affected in the slightest. "Now, could you two calm down for a moment?"
He directed his gaze at us, asking with calm and patience for each of us to calm down.
I guess when you're dead, you have all the patience in the world... literally.
Regardless of the request, we both complied, observing the first wielder who was now acting as the group's spokesperson.
"In the first place, I think you're judging the Ninth too harshly. He has a point with his words. He's here by the work of someone whose status surpasses that of all present," he smiled, now with me as the center of his explanation. "And you, boy, I hope you understand how... difficult it is for us to digest the very existence that you are."
I conceded the point. I hadn't fully considered what it would be like to engage in dialogue with people capable of knowing who I really was.
Bah... what was the point of being proud now? These people would accompany me until the end of my days. They weren't just any strangers.
"You're right... fine, I accept the part that belongs to me and I apologize for it." I crossed my arms again, lowering my head a little in agreement. "Especially with you, Seventh Wielder."
The woman adjusted the yellow gloves she was wearing, without saying anything in consideration. Really, what the hell was I thinking? I wasn't lying with my words.
"...I'm sorry too. I suppose I judged your situation unfairly," she smiled, although it was more of a grimace than anything else. She was never willing to cross gazes again. "It's just that... we were witnesses to a whole story that will not be now, without the young man who was leading it."
The original timeline. I had stopped giving importance to that detail since everything went to hell. It was only useful for providing data with which to act.
But for the rest, it was worth more than that. Where I saw an advantage factor, they witnessed lost history.
"A path full of pain and complications. We must not forget that detail," "En," the sixth wielder of One For All, added detail through the attire that obscures his mouth. "Nothing went well for us according to the last thing seen by this boy."
I nodded my head, giving reason to the well-posed argument of the man.
"Oh yeah, that. We were part of a manga in your... world? Reality? I don't know how to describe it," Yoichi smiled, fun and nostalgia predominating in his expression. "To think that my brother and I were fans of those things."
"The concept of 'villain' in him was born from there, right?" I asked with genuine curiosity, interested in how deep All For One's ideals are.
"That's right. There's no other viable reason for it. Where I admired superheroes..."
"...He understood villains," Nana finished the sentence, her voice somber at the mention of the dangerous subject.
It seemed unreal. Not by emphasizing or understanding the antagonist do you seek to be the same. Under such logic, there would be hundreds of idiots looking to cause harm. That gave the cue that All For One was always deranged. He was a vile manipulator with the necessary tools to achieve the goal he desired.
Being a villain... was just a word he used to have a place in society.
"Incredible. We were hunted and killed by a fan of stories," Daigoro added grumpily, tapping his foot rhythmically to express that.
I smiled. It was a little embarrassing when seen that way.
"Well, how terrifying that 'fanatic' is. He made pulp out of us on the battlefield," I remembered the combat. It was fresh in my head, common considering it's the last thing I remember.
"That's because you don't have complete mastery of our Quirks. Otherwise, you would have been able to deal with him without needing help," Hikage resumed speaking, straightening the inclined posture he had. "You've only used the 'Blackwhips' of the fifth with total effectiveness."
"Ha! Can you blame the brat for knowing how to choose the best power here?!" Daigoro exclaimed proudly, forgetting his previous bad mood. "I don't think so!"
"Regardless of that, you could have won. With more time, we are sure the result would have changed," he continued calmly, pointing to his head and then to mine. "For example, 'Danger Sensor' is not something you should use only when the situation requires it..."
I paid attention. Any advice offered would be good, especially considering it comes from the original owner himself.
"...It must be an extension of you, a common sense like breathing. Think of it imagining you have a tail. No matter where you go, it won't leave you," he smiled, comfortable to be able to detail the functioning of his nascent power.
I meditated on what I had heard. It was an obvious but solid foundation, which I had ignored in the rush to become physically stronger.
"There's not much science with 'Float'," Nana Shimura continued the explanation. Somewhat surprised, I gave her my attention. I didn't expect her to be willing to do such a thing. "You just have to find a balance outside of solid bases. When you understand that, you'll see that it's as simple as walking."
"...Balance... alright, I got it," I murmured in acceptance, giving a thumbs up to thank for the quick guidance.
"You haven't awakened my Quirk, so I'll spare you the irrelevant information for the moment," "En" excused himself without any problem, returning to the calm silence that surrounded him.
And when there was only one left to offer words...
"Huh? What are you all looking at?" Daigoro questioned, annoyed by nature, but not against us.
"Any advice to offer the boy?"
"Advice? I do enough by allowing him to use my Quirk!" Standing up from his seat, he faced them. No one gave special importance to the detail.
So I supposed it was something... normal.
"Besides, I was the first one he communicated with. Of course, back then, he didn't handle One For All as much, so certain details were unknown," he reiterated more calmly, returning to his seat to stop drawing attention.
"So... no advice?" I asked him mockingly, amused by the obvious reaction he would have.
"No! There isn't!"
Man... how I would like to laugh right now.
"Anyway, I think we should deal with the matter that brought you here in the first place," Yoichi cut off the game quickly, his voice serious for what was required. "We need to define what we will do with you and how that will affect the future... Izuku Midoriya does not exist here. You will speak with honesty."
He walked through the extensive and repetitive rooms, ignoring his surroundings, not out of selfishness or anything close. His reason, even repudiated, had a giant value.
So great that, adjusting the bandage over his head, he had to deliver with priority. His reliable cane was now truly useful, no longer just for playing the senile old man.
He was grateful for the hospital gown he was wearing, being much more comfortable than the damaged previous heroic suit, destroyed to an ancient point. He hadn't been in that state for a long time.
He sighed. The path taken to end up like this... the future was not going to develop well. It pained him to admit it, but... it was the reality.
In a generation where the number of official heroes surpasses any past record, everything was still even worse. It seemed that the more good there is, the greater the evil willing to respond.
He was wrong to think of the peace enjoyed by the world. He saw a concept where it didn't really exist. Just like his own pupil, he lowered his arms to rest, and the ill-intentioned took advantage without giving it much thought.
If Gran Torino had to feel some way, then that was annoyance. There was no longer a fixed culprit, no one to point at and give consequences. This time, many (himself included) had the metaphorical stake weighing on their backs.
They were good years. He would never deny such a thing. Even the concept of a hero fell with them, becoming something more commercial than what it currently represented. He lived the life of a retired veteran. He was grateful for that.
But now... they had to return to action.
It was with such thoughts running through his mind that Sorahiko Torino, the veteran Gran Torino, stopped in front of the room of the recently retired Symbol of Peace.
He dragged the door open without much enthusiasm, revealing the familiar blond, drooping hair, belonging to a strong man, but weak by the new standards.
Toshinori was no better than him. He even had more bandages. Normal, taking into account the role he had fulfilled just a night ago.
Wow... only one night had passed. Its consequences covered so much that that fact didn't do it justice.
He walked until he was in the guest chair, taking a seat and respecting the silence offered by the lack of greetings from the blond.
The afternoon sun, reflected through the moving curtains, courtesy of the warm wind, warmed the cold white that predominated over the room.
Dust filtering in the coming light, a beautiful sight, for a place so somber but capable of harboring life as a hospital was.
"Toshinori," he greeted, cutting off the calm without prior notice. He had to report what was important, whether he wanted to or not.
"Master," he murmured, without ceasing to contemplate the movement of the curtains. His voice tired despite the rest he had had. "How is young Midoriya?"
He remembered the boy, oh how could he forget. The great center of attention for any media with half a brain. "Izuku Midoriya: Outstanding winner of the Sports Festival and hero of adversity."
He had read the headline just hours ago. He got the best reception, if the whispers around that room gave any credit.
The boy not only consecrated his rise in front of the predecessor, he also did it before the whole world.
"In recovery. The broken right arm was healed without problems. He will have some scars, but nothing remarkable or that worsens the use of the limb." He read that medical report over and over again. He had to know any minimal problem by heart. "They expect him to regain consciousness by tomorrow morning at the latest. According to what they informed me, he suffered an emotional shock, and that is hindering his awakening."
He wasn't surprised. Anyone without experience would be the same in the face of what had happened. Everything was fast, even for the experienced average.
"...It's a relief... within the negative sea that surrounds us," Toshinori replied with little spirit and having processed the accumulation of events. Blue eyes fallen in disgrace and worn out by the battle. "Master, I... I failed her."
He denied internally. He knew that thought process. He knew where the answers led... and he wanted to avoid it.
"You didn't. No one in your state would. She knows that, I'm sure."
"But her grandson, how can I...?" He clenched his fists, fury directed at himself, a self-loathing rarely seen in the reliable and smiling hero. "The legacy she left is now stained. I was a contributing part to that happening. I must..."
"You will not go to convince him to return to the good path," he cut off the idea without tact, serious but logical. He would avoid an unnecessary suicide like that. "Now you are seeing Tenko Shimura, no, not even that... just the ghost of what was..."
He raised his cane, hitting the man on the head to bring him to his senses.
He had already lost a good friend. He didn't want to feel that again.
"...When only Shigaraki Tomura remains, who threatened the whole world since he introduced himself, and whether it hurts you or not..." a bitter grimace covered his face. Even he detested the last part. "It's your successor's task to put a stop to him. We can only be spectators and help when we can."
Both remained silent, hurt for identical reasons but carrying that in different ways. It was strange how loss affected after a victory, almost eclipsing that fact in the process.
"Still, I must visit All For One's cell when I'm discharged," Toshinori cut off the silent situation once more, firm in what he believed was an obligatory duty. "Only with me will he reveal information. Even you know that."
Normally, he would concede the point, but now...
"That's not possible either."
"What?! Why?"
"Because Toshinori..."
"All For One is dead."
Author's Note:
Hey.
What did you think of this chapter?
So... the interlude begins, earlier than I expected to update, but well, inspiration is strange.
I barely touched my other stories. I couldn't get these words out of my head, so being contradictory to myself, I updated here.
Finally, I can introduce the previous wielders. I needed to do it. That detail was killing me inside.
From the beginning, I wanted Nana Shimura as an opponent to the MC. In her, I see the justified side to avoid revealing his transmigration to MHA, and I will play with that concept without being too invasive.
With the rest, I will gradually give them dialogues and firm positions. I don't want to risk anything and play it safe. If I screw up the characters from now... nothing will work in the future.
And yes, All For One is dead.
Be honest, did you expect it?
From there, I won't comment much. Let the story itself reveal my exact thoughts.
The chapter is slightly shorter, as it is an "Interlude," and I want to take it more calmly. With the passage of chapters, that will change and return to the usual.
I want to give special mention (again) to pijadetown for making the first drawing shown in the chapter, with that Izuku interacting, surprised by the appearance of One For All.
The truth is, zero complaints. When a job is well done (and without asking for anything in return, that is valued a lot), it should be praised.
So, as the author of the work, I thank you. I appreciate the time and effort you put into it, even though it wasn't your obligation.
It's already the second time he's done it, incredible, really.
To close, I wanted to comment that I have noticed a large flow of negative comments, but it's more funny than annoying. Because despite everything, you keep reading the story, voting for the chapter, and moving forward until you're up to date.
Which confirms one thing for me: you can hate the protagonist, you can hate the development (of his environment, characters, etc.), and even the story itself.
But you can't hate the ability I have to form each thing. You wouldn't be reading this for any other reason. Even for the haters, I'm good at this shit.
Eat that, you losers who want to throw shit.
Anyway, take care. See you.