hero's shadow // mha

87) heavy dusk

(cw: drowning, murder, mentions of suicide)

Izuku's dreams have changed. He isn't sure why.

Normally, he closes his eyes after downing a sleeping pill and wakes up in the depths of his domain inside Extract. He tries his luck at breaching One for All's barrier, and he is unsuccessful each time. He's used to the rejection by now, but it still doesn't make it any easier when the writhing pool of sludge refuses to let him in for the nth time.

Lately, however, he does not wake up in his realm. He wakes up directly inside the bridge between both worlds, and he loiters around in All for One's soul. It scares him, really, how he stopped minding it after only the third time. It scares him that he stopped flinching as much as he did when he first arrived here.

Three nights after Izuku was cleared by Recovery Girl, he goes to sleep and wakes up someplace else, someplace that he can't identify immediately.

He is in a field of hyacinths and lilies, warmth beating down on his face. The tall grass reaches his knees, brushing against his skin softly with the breeze. He smells sweet sap in the distance, and if he strains he can hear bees buzzing all around him.

Where is he? He's not inside One for All, is he? There's no way: he was kicked out. Did he accidentally wake up in his own little realm inside it? That can't be it either—he would feel the other users if he did.

So just how far is he in his father's realm? Where is the void he's grown so accustomed to? Somehow the idea of this warmth existing inside All for One's mind is sadder than anything else he's ever experienced.

"What happened?"

The quiet voice comes from behind. Izuku pauses, eyes widening a fraction, his breath escaping him in a soft sigh. It can't be, he thinks, but his mind tells him it's so, and when he turns around, his eyes confirm it.

Midoriya Izuku stands before him, except he's small and bandaged, holding onto a blackened plushie. He is smaller than even Izuku remembers being at seven years old.

His large eyes are a blinding green, and his hair is a mess. Bruises peek out from under his shirt, littering his neck and wrists. Gloves reside on his hands, and Izuku only stares.

"Did we get in trouble again?" His younger self asks, all curious and confused, and Izuku holds his own arm tight, swaying as the wind picks up. He realizes why the question is asked a moment later, as blood drips down from his face and stains the beautiful peonies beneath him, soaking into the dirt as easily as if it were water.

He touches his cheek, and when he pulls his fingers away, they're wet and red.

How did Izuku get here again? He can't remember, and it scares him. He always remembers.

"We should try harder," the young boy says, almost as if chastising. His eyes follow the red. "Father said so."

The uncomfortable feeling of the blood matting all over his body and sticking his clothes to his skin, coupled with the sudden searing heat of the sun directly overhead, makes Izuku's heart race. His head throbs, and blood pounds in his ears, drowning out the sounds of whatever his young companion is saying next.

The boy's head tips, a concerned lilt to his voice now. Izuku wonders what he's saying. Would it have made a difference if he knew? Would Izuku still have grown so angry if he heard him?

Pain rocks through his body, electrifying his nerves and racing up his spine. Bruises appear on his freckled skin, and it's like he's being beaten, though there is no attacker he can see. It sparks some flavor of rage within him. The weirdness of the situation, the change in his dream, the hurt, the look on his younger self's face—fuck, for some reason it makes him so angry, so bitter, that he's actually numb now. There's no thought in his brain, as static has taken over and ruined the warm edges of this environment.