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“One for All is a rather strange quirk,” All Might told Izuku as they stood together on the beach. The wind whipped at his hair, then rustled as it struck the water. It carried the scent of sea water and trash from the massive heap piled up on the sand.
Izuku had just eaten a hair. He could still feel a tickle at the back of his throat. The disturbing sensation made his tone cranky. “You couldn’t have warned me before you gave it to me?”
All Might laughed and ran a too-scrawny hand through his hair. “I don’t mean in a bad way. Sometimes I’ve felt a comforting feeling from my quirk, almost like a hug. On several occasions, I woke up with a blanket tucked over me after I fell asleep on the sofa. Once, I would swear an invisible hand pushed me out of the way of a villain attack. I’ve heard my master’s voice at my lowest points, whispering encouragement. It doesn’t happen particularly often. I just thought I should warn you.”
Someone less desperate for a quirk might have been upset about the revelation that his quirk was haunted. Izuku only pulled out a notebook and started writing. “Fascinating. Would you say there’s only one ghost, or do you think all the past users are in there?”
All Might shrugged. “My former master appeared to me most often, but I’m certain there are others. If you see her, I’m sure you’ll get along. They’re all lovely people.”
Izuku would swear he heard someone laughing, but it might have been the wind.
It started out with very small things.
After a hard day training with All Might, Izuku fell asleep at his desk. He woke up in his bed with a blanket tucked over him and his study materials put away.
Another time, he found a plate of apples by his bed, sliced to look like bunnies. It couldn’t have been his mother, because Inko had gone to visit Aunt Mitsuki after she’d gotten sick.
A package arrived in the mail containing rare All Might merchandise from the early days of his career. The items had been on his Amazon wish list for years, but he’d never been able to afford them. Izuku felt a stirring of unease: since when did ghosts have credit cards?
Next time, the mysterious sender included hoodies and mugs with pictures of Nana Shimura and a muscular, bald man. An internet search revealed him to be the obscure, long-deceased pro hero Daigoro Banjo. Purchasing his out-of-stock merchandise from an online auction must have cost a fortune.
When he returned from a particularly strenuous day of training, a delivery man brought a steaming hot katsudon to his doorstep.
At school, Katsuki Bakugo’s water bottles had been spiked with salt five times. Izuku tried to tell his quirk that he appreciated the thought, but it wasn’t necessary. He’d felt foolish talking to an empty room. That one might not have been One for All—Katsuki had a gift for annoying people—but Izuku had a hunch.
The ghosts seemed to be showing up more frequently than they had with All Might. Interesting. An indication One for All had grown stronger over time? Izuku took notes on each encounter.
While running along the beach to train his strength, Izuku’s foot caught on a seashell. He cried out as he slipped sideways. His tired muscles screamed in pain and failed to catch him in time. He could feel his ankle start to bend as he landed the wrong way on it.
An ice-cold hand grabbed his arm and yanked him back to his feet. In the water’s reflection, Izuku glimpsed a thin man with straight white hair to his shoulders.
The image wavered, then vanished. Bent over with his hands on his knees, Izuku panted. The handprint on his arm still felt cold. His ankle hurt a little, but he’d been caught before he could sprain it.
That had been a man, not a woman. The first decisive proof that his quirk had more than one ghost. Izuku added the information to his notebook.
Hisashi expected his visit to be a pleasant surprise for his family. Just a quick chance to see them before he needed to return to his pressing work. He’d obtained a disguise quirk to fix the damage All Might had inflicted on his face, although it had a time limit.
Because he’d arrived late at night, he let himself in quietly, planning to sneak up the stairs to the guest bedroom.
Someone hummed from the kitchen. An old tune he hadn’t heard in over a century. Hisashi poked his head in. Izuku stood at the counter, cutting apples into bunny shapes.
Smiling, Hisashi called, “I’m home early!” He held out his arms for a hug.
Izuku turned around. Fear blazed in his green eyes, followed by a hateful rage.
The strength of the emotion made Hisashi take a step backward. Why would his son look at him with such murderous eyes? Surely he hadn’t found out about…?
Then the strange look faded away, replaced by confusion. Izuku looked at the knife in one hand and the apple in the other as if he’d never seen either of those items before. “Dad? Did you get home early?” His tone contained nothing but cheerful welcome.
His son seemed back to normal. Thank goodness. For a moment, those green eyes had looked exactly like…someone else.
Izuku blinked, trying to figure out how he’d gotten into the kitchen. He recognized the bunny ears carved into the apples in front of him. The ghosts again, huh? It would be rather sweet except he wished they’d ask first if they wanted to possess his body.
His father smiled. “A business project ended early, so I returned home. I’ll be here for a few days before I have to return to America.”
Izuku had no time for quirk analysis. He’d promised All Might to keep One for All a secret, even from his parents. To distract attention from his odd behavior, he ran over and gave his dad a hug. “It’s great to see you.”
As always, Dad returned the embrace enthusiastically. “You, too. Are you cutting apples into bunnies? How nostalgic. I loved those as a child, and so did…someone dear to me.” He shook his head as if shaking off a memory. “I used to cut apples into those same shapes for you when you were little.”
“Really?” Izuku asked. “I don’t remember that at all.” It had been so long since his dad had regularly been home.
Dad frowned. “You don’t? But yours look exactly like mine used to.”
“Funny coincidence. I must subconsciously remember.” Izuku tried to laugh. “I should go to bed.”
“But you haven’t finished cutting your apples,” Dad said.
Izuku had no idea how to make those shapes, and he didn’t want his father to find out. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
As he climbed the stairs, he felt like his sense of uneasiness came from more than just himself.
Hisashi checked his credit card statement again. Sure enough, someone had cleverly hidden the charge for hero merchandise as part of a shipment of household goods.
Normally, Hisashi would have immediately gone to confront his son with threats of grounding. But he had an odd feeling. This didn’t seem like something Izuku would do. Nor did he have a good explanation for why his son would purchase so much merchandise belonging to obscure heroes whose only common denominator was that they’d once possessed One for All.
Izuku had always resembled…someone else. But tonight, the resemblance had been uncanny. The memory gave Hisashi a chill down his spine, as if someone had stepped on the grave he should have been inside centuries ago.
He decided to search his son’s room tomorrow.
Izuku returned from his hero training sweaty and exhausted. He was about to head for the shower when his father called, “Come to the living room, Izuku.”
“Can it wait until I—?”
“No.”
Something in that tone made Izuku run over. “What’s wrong, Dad?”
He gasped. His notebook containing his research on One for All sat open on his father’s lap. But I kept that in a locked secret drawer under my desk. How did he find it?
Hisashi hissed, “I can’t believe you obtained One for All. I was so careful! I took your quirk away so you’d never become a hero!”
“You…what?” Izuku took a step backward. Betrayal formed a hard knot under his chest. Yet at the same time, gears turned in his mind, making connections and guesses. He shifted his weight, ready to run or attack.
Dad didn’t seem to notice. “No longer. You won’t be attending U.A. We’ll be leaving this city for a safer location.”
Izuku’s hair stood on end. “Excuse me? How dare you? If you’d been more involved in my life, you’d know that my dream is to—”
His father cut him off. “I have a bomb planted in the residence of Katsuki Bakugo. I should have blown the little bully sky-high years ago, so don’t test my willingness to do so now.”
Izuku’s brain stuttered to a halt.
Dad held out a detonator. His finger rested on the red button. Izuku calculated, but he didn’t think he could grab it before the button could be pressed. He couldn’t risk the lives of Kacchan or his parents.
Part of his mind screamed in horror. The more calculating part had several theories about his father, each one increasingly bad.
“What do you want?” Izuku whispered.
Hisashi smiled, with no humor. “At the moment, you’re not the one I want to negotiate with.” He held up the detonator. “You have until the count of three to come out, little brother. One…two…”
“Please,” Izuku whispered, not sure who he was talking to, but terrified for his childhood friend.
His lips moved on their own. “Big brother.” Then his world went dark.