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Izuku knew something was wrong when he heard nothing but wind and felt hot sun on his face. He had been battling villains in the deepest, darkest part of the underbelly of the city, surrounded by oil slick, pounding music from rusty cars, and the neon lights of the red light district. This place by contrast was quiet, peaceful.
If Izuku hadn’t been used to being in odd situations, he might assume that he had died. As he sits up, he sees miles and miles of open grassland, forests, and wide open blue sky. There’s not a single building or sign of humanity anywhere. He notices with surprise that his hero costume is gone.
Izuku’s head is pounding as he brings a hand up to rub his temples, trying to remember what had happened. He and the rest of Class 1-A had been caught up in a fight with a terrifying new villain calling herself Dimension. Heroes had been taking her on for a few months, all of them disappearing for days or weeks after battles with her, only to reappear wearing odd clothes and in various states of distress and in some cases, insanity.
Allegedly, Dimension could send people to other worlds, other realities.
The implications of that were astounding. Izuku had been itching to analyze the quirk ever since she had broken onto the scene, an incredible quirk that could change the fundamental knowledge of the world and all of human existence. She could catalog each and every star, see the past, present and future, spend her life endlessly traveling to incredible worlds.
It’s sad to think someone with such an exhilarating ability would choose to use it for villany.
Izuku had been unlucky enough to face off with her one-on-one. Dimension had taunted him, telling him she was going to send him to a place worse than hell.
Izuku blinks, looking around at the beautiful grass and forests. He doesn’t want to jinx it, but if this really was an alternate dimension, it didn’t look like hell to him. Looking down, he’s surprised to see that he’s not only missing his costume, he’s wearing clothes he doesn’t recognize. Soft brown pants and a tan shirt, with simple shoes made of what look like leather. His scars are still prominent on his arms and he still feels like his body is the same, but everything else he had on him before he was sent here, was gone.
I shouldn’t get too ahead of myself, Izuku thinks, trying not to panic, This might not be an alternate reality. I could be in a hallucination, or a dream. Even a simulation.
Izuku looks around, seeing how realistic the grass and trees are, the soft feeling against his skin. Too real for a simulation. He reaches over and pinches his arm, wincing. Not a dream, then. And he doesn’t think it’s a hallucination either, given the facts of the situation. So, if this is really is an alternate reality, how does he get back?
He stands up, looking all around him. He tries not to panic, having absolutely no idea what to do next. Wilderness survival training wasn’t something that was pushed much at UA, given that it was in such a densely populated city, but Izuku wishes now he at least had some experience camping. Figuring he should at least find a source of water, Izuku picks a direction and starts walking, trying to keep himself calm through a sense of purpose.
Aizawa and All Might will know what happened to me, he reasons with himself, And they will find me. Dimension’s victims always return.
Izuku tries to ignore the fact that Dimension’s victims always return traumatized and in various deteriorating states of sanity. He hopes he’ll be rescued before that happens to him.
What should I say if I run into other people? Izuku worries, biting his lip as he walks, Not that I’m from another world, obviously. And who’s to say the people in this world have quirks? I’ll have to watch my power.
Izuku reaches for his quirk, expecting the familiar green lighting to warm him, crackle across his skin.
Nothing.
He freezes, trying to stay calm. He flares it again.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Arms shaking, Izuku wraps them around his middle to steady himself. If his quirk doesn’t work in this place, he’s in a lot more danger than he thought. He has no weapons, no protection other than his hand-to-hand combat, which while it is on par with the others in his class, he wouldn’t say he’s an expert in it.
Okay, so she must have sent me somewhere where my quirk won’t work, Izuku reasons again, forcing himself to keep walking, I’ll need some kind of backstory if I run into anyone. Something simple. Keep it as close to the truth as possible. I’m Izuku. I’m lost. My friends are looking for me. My friends are looking for me.
He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts that it doesn’t register that something is approaching. Izuku turns after a moment, shocked to see a roughly four meter tall…person…walking towards him at a slow pace.
They’re naked and look odd, a head a little too big for their body and a frankly grotesque looking mouth. Izuku thinks of Shoji and scolds himself, not wanting to judge anyone for their appearance. People with mutation quirks face so much discrimination, almost as much as the quirkless, and Izuku doesn’t want to be one of those people.
“Hello!” he calls brightly, waving at the tall person, despite his nerves, “I’m lost, can you help me?”
They don’t respond, just continue to walk towards him at an odd, slow gait. Izuku waits patiently, although nerves are twisting in his stomach. Is this really a person, or something else? Can they understand him? Do they even speak the same language?
“Sorry to bother you,” Izuku calls again as they get closer, “Can you tell me where I am, please?”
The person gets closer, close enough that Izuku doesn’t have to yell to be heard. There’s something unsettling about someone so tall, and naked to boot, but he tries to keep his face polite so as not to offend.
“Um, sorry, but can you understand me?” Izuku says, scratching his head as the person walks closer, making him anxious, “I don’t know if we speak the same language. I…uh…I’ve never met anyone as tall as you before! Listen, I’m…really, really lost. Can you help me?”
The person is close, a little too close for comfort now, and they reach out a large hand towards him. Izuku wonders if they’re going in for a handshake.
“What the hell are you doing?” someone screams, and Izuku turns just in time to see a green and white blur rushing towards him, and then Izuku’s flying, soaring up away from the tall person, in the arms of someone else.
“Are you insane?” the guy shouts in his ear as he holds onto Izuku, “Were you talking to it? Were you trying to get eaten?”
Eaten? Izuku thinks, horrified at the implications of that. Soon, they’re on the back of a horse and they’re riding, the wind whipping across his face. A horse.
“You are a crazy son of a bitch, aren’t you?” the guy says, sounding annoyed as they ride fast , “Dumb fucking kid, outside the walls, talking to titans, I swear to Sina.”
Izuku doesn’t say anything, heart still pounding from adrenaline. He’s not sure what’s happening, but he figures the best thing is to watch and observe. He looks and notices more people riding horses, all as fast as they can, surrounding them. Each is wearing the same uniform and are outfitted with swords and weaponry that he doesn’t recognize.
“What’s a kid doing out here?” one of them shouts, a girl with a brown ponytail and glasses laughs, “And trying to communicate with titans, talk about a spirit of scientific inquisitiveness!”
“Ugh, another one as crazy as you, Hange!” the guy holding Izuku groans.
They stop a long while later, Izuku awkwardly dismounting the horse as they all stare at him, some with suspicion, some with curiosity, and others with annoyance. Izuku isn’t sure exactly what’s going on, but he figures he should try to communicate to see what will happen.
As they address each other, he hears military titles. One person in particular, a short man with dark hair, keeps getting called ‘captain’ so Izuku figures he’s in charge.
“Sir?” Izuku asks quietly, getting the captain’s attention, “Um, thank you for saving me.”
Izuku’s not sure exactly what situation he’s just been rescued from, but he does know a rescue when he sees it. The captain’s eyes narrow and Izuku doesn’t miss how the others quiet down, looking at the captain and at him.
“My name is Captain Levi,” Levi says, staring at Izuku, unblinking, “You will tell me who you are and what you were doing outside the walls in titan territory, unarmed and alone.”
Izuku freezes, anxiety flooding him. He tries to be as honest as he can.
“My name is Izuku,” he says as evenly as he can, “And…I don’t know.”
Levi stares him down. “You don’t know. Hange says you were talking to a titan. You were two seconds away from death if we hadn’t been patrolling this area.”
Izuku is nervous, not knowing how to handle the situation. He keeps going with being as truthful as he can, knowing it will be easier to stick to his story that way.
“Sir,” Izuku starts, unsure of how to properly address Levi, “What exactly is a titan? That person…they were so tall and disproportionate but they still looked humanoid. But it didn’t seem like they could communicate at all.”
They all stare at him, silent, and Izuku knows he’s immediately said the wrong thing.
“What…are titans?” the captain says so intensely that Izuku actually steps back, “The scourge of humanity? The end of the human race as we know it? Where the hell have you been for the last century?”
“S-Sorry,” he stutters, aware he looks even younger when he gets nervous, “I-I just woke up in the field, and I don’t…I don’t know what’s going on or where I am.”
They all stare, the captain walking towards Izuku, his expression unreadable. Some of the others look affected by Izuku’s nervous disposition, looking a little less tense and more sympathetic.
“What is the last thing you remember?” the captain asks Izuku, sounding suspicious.
Izuku’s hands are shaking, the full weight of his situation finally crashing down. He decides to be as honest as he can, using what little he’s seen of this world to try and make it believable as he panics.
“I…there was a fight,” Izuku stammers, thinking of his friends, of 1-A and Aizawa, fighting Dimension, “I…there was so much screaming. And then I j-just woke up here.”
The captain’s eyes narrow, still looking suspicious. “Don’t give me that shit. You were found outside of the walls. You’re clearly not a soldier, but your body is covered in battle scars. You’re muscular, which means you’re fit and trained. You don’t look like you’re starving, which says wealth, but you’re wearing threadbare clothes. You are someone, kid. And I’m going to figure out who.”
Izuku freezes, utterly intimidated. Shigaraki and the League have nothing on this guy. He thinks that even All for One isn’t quite as threatening as this singular captain, holding the weight of the world on his shoulders and clearly with advanced tactical training.
“We’ll play your amnesia game for now,” Levi says evenly, “On the off chance you’re telling the truth. We are the Scout regiment, humanity’s last hope against being devoured alive.”
Levi tells about titans, about the world's population shrinking down, down to a frighteningly low number. About a district that fell years ago, people being eaten. Izuku feels more and more horrified as Levi talks, spinning horrific tales of death.
Dimension hadn’t been lying, she had truly sent him to hell. But Izuku’s not a weak, scared kid anymore. He may not have his quirk here, but he is a hero. And this place, wherever he is, seems like it’s in worse shape than he could possibly have imagined, if people are truly being eaten.
“I want to help,” Izuku says when Captain Levi has finished recounting the history of this place, not missing the looks of shock from the soldiers around him.
“Listen,” Izuku continues firmly, getting everyone’s attention, “I don’t really understand what’s going on and I don’t care if you believe me or not. But if there’s a threat, if people are in trouble, I want to help. I want to help you stop it.”
He takes in a breath, looking up with steely determination. “I want to help you fight the titans.”
Cadet training.
That was what Captain Levi had told him. If he was really going to help and prove he wasn’t an aggressor to them, he needed to go through Cadet training. He had been traveling for a few weeks with the Scouts at that point, and Izuku had seen more horrifying things in that span of time than he ever could have imagined.
Death. Destruction. Devouring.
Izuku had thought some of the battles he had faced as a young hero were harsh, but this…this was actual hell. Izuku just felt like a horrible, awful burden until the Scouts had gotten back to the walls. He had seen dozens of them eaten, killed in the past days by titans and it had changed him irrevocably.
He tries to keep a grip on his mind, hoping and wishing that he’ll wake up every morning back at UA. But as the weeks pass, he has to harden himself to the idea that either he’s never making it home, or Dimension’s quirk has some sort of time altering element. It’s hard to think about it much when every minute of his life is now a struggle for survival.
He’s never been so hungry, so scared, so tired. Izuku keeps a brave face, remembering there are people back at home waiting for him. His friends, his mom, his teachers. He will get home.
He has to.
Cadet training. That’s his focus now. They told him it would be years of hard work, of learning how to fight and kill titans, but then he could join the Scouts when he was ready. Captain Levi was still suspicious of him, but Izuku swore up and down that all he wanted to do was help.
Training is hard, tough as nails, and Izuku gives it all, his one hundred plus percent, his plus ultra, UA style. He makes friends there. Rivals.
There’s Eren, always yelling about saving people and being the one who will stop the titan onslaught. He reminds Izuku a little of Bakugou and despite that, he finds himself respecting Eren’s determination. Mikasa and Armin he gets closer with as the months go on.
The months.
Izuku’s getting older. His body is changing. He wonders how much time, if any, is passing at UA. He prays and hopes it’s not as much as it is here. His poor mom.
One night, he finds himself sitting outside the barracks, looking up at the stars. He wonders if any of his loved ones are looking up at the same sky, the same stars, in another world. He dreams of laughter, of his quirk, of heroes, of friends, movies, music, video games, and full stomachs. Of a world that isn’t all blood, pain, and death.
“Hey, can I join you?” Armin asks him, nudging him out of his thoughts.
Izuku smiles at his friend, “Sure. I was just stargazing.”
“Yeah, they’re beautiful here,” Armin says, sitting down next to Izuku, “I always loved looking at the stars back home.”
Armin doesn’t talk about his home much, none of those from the titan attack years ago often do, so it’s rare to hear Armin bring it up first. It strikes a curiosity in Izuku.
“It sounds like it was a nice place,” Izuku murmurs gently, “Shiganshina. Would you…tell me about it?”
Armin looks distant for a moment before smiling, “Yeah. I’d like you to hear.”
He tells Izuku about merchants, happy families, school, fat, drunk soldiers. About his grandfather and beautiful butterflies. Eren and Mikasa, his protectors. The books, the illegal books, that he devoured and read like they were his life’s blood. His dreams and passions, the wonderful, very human people, corralled together like cattle in a cage.
Destroyed by one, vile titan breaking through the wall.
It makes him sick, tearing up as Armin talks. Izuku has a reputation as a crybaby amongst the cadets, his emotional tears making him the butt of more than one joke. Armin is physically weaker than he is, but more emotionally strong. Between the two of them, they often tease that together they make one competent, emotionally stable soldier.
“It sounds nice,” Izuku says, shivering a little, “I wish…I wish we could both go home.”
Armin looks at him in surprise. Izuku never talks about his home, or his family. It’s widely believed by most that he’s an amnesiac, that he lost his memory and family in a titan attack and that’s what makes him so odd and say such strange things. Izuku doesn’t refute it, it’s easier than coming up with a half-assed lie. Armin is the only person he feels comfortable with enough to make these kinds of comments.
“What was your home like?” Armin asks quietly, touching their shoulders together, “You never talk about it.”
Izuku ducks his head down, biting his lip. Armin’s steady presence next to him keeps him calm.
“It…it wasn’t perfect,” Izuku mumbles, swallowing hard with tears in his eyes, “But it was home. I had a mom. I…I was bullied a lot as a kid, until I learned how to fight. I didn’t have people like Eren or Mikasa to save me, so I spent most of my time bruised and bloody. I thought I was worthless, for a long time. I…I had only just managed to get some friends and to pull myself together at school when Captain Levi and the Scouts found me outside the walls.”
Armin looks at Izuku intensely, reaching over to link their pinky fingers together, keeping his eyes up to the stars.
“You’re not worthless,” Armin says softly, “And I’m sorry that happened to you. I know things have been hard for you, for all of us. But…I can’t say that I’m sad it happened. We wouldn’t have met otherwise, right? You know Eren and Mikasa are my family. But you…you’re the first friend I ever made besides them.”
Izuku smiles, heart aching for Armin and everyone else in this terrible place. It’s hard to compartmentalize sometimes, hard to look at these starving soldiers and think of how lucky he was to grow up in a world of heroes, of full stomachs, of power and a world where humans weren’t prey. More than once he’s cried thinking of his quirk, of how much more useful he would be here if he had it. How many people he could save.
He thinks of all the Scouts he watched die in front of him, all those months ago, when he first arrived here and talked to a titan. God, he had been such an idiot. He would have died had it not been for the Scouts. He doesn’t know what happens to him in his own world if he dies here, but he’s pretty sure that he doesn’t want to find out.
“We’ve seen a lot of crazy things, haven’t we?” Izuku murmurs, looking back up to the sky, “You saw the devastation in Shiganshina. And when I was with the Scouts…”
“You were in titan territory,” Armin interjects seriously, “I know what you saw. You know, that’s one of the reasons why people respect you here. You survived in titan country, untrained. Even the Scouts can’t keep someone alive that long, not if they’re incompetent.”
Izuku rubs his hair sheepishly, smiling at his friend. “Thanks. Hey um, Armin?”
“Yeah?” Armin asks, yawning as he leans on Izuku’s shoulder.
“Can you tell me about the sea again? About what’s outside the walls?”
Armin beams, eyes sparkling. He murmurs tales of fields of ice, rocks so big they take days to climb, the ocean, the creatures that live there. Endless forests and lakes of fire. The world. It makes Izuku feel grounded. He might be stuck in this strange place, but Armin makes it easier, having a friend like him makes it easier. Being reminded of the world, his world, helps.
He’s a hero. He’s a soldier. He’s Deku. He’s a cadet. He’s from Japan. He’s a soldier of the walls.
They’ve just barely been allowed out on real missions when Eren turns into a titan.
It’s horrifying, it’s exhilarating. Izuku watches and thinks…they can win like this. He’s not an outsider here, not anymore. He’s one of them, a cadet member, and a soldier. He’s stared death in the face and lived.
Eren is the key to defeating the titans. By harnessing his power, they can do it. Izuku knows it. He’s resigned himself to being in this place forever, until the end of his life. Which will probably be quite soon, given the state of the world.
Eren fights. Eren wins. So many cadets die, so many people were slaughtered. But when they all stand, when they join the Scouts together, Izuku knows it’s the right choice to put their faith in Eren and with the Scouts. They might be few and far between, but the Scouts are where he’s needed, where humanity needs him.
At his heart, he’s always been a hero.
He thinks less and less about UA day-to-day and the prospect of returning to his old life. It seems more improbable by the minute that he’ll survive here long enough to be rescued. Besides, Armin and the others need him. UA would be fine without him. There are hundreds of heroes.
The Scouts need every last soldier.
They work and fight side-by-side as Scouts. Armin and Izuku have philosophical discussions with one another that make everyone groan. Hange and Izuku hit it off immediately, pulling multiple all-nighters to discuss science and theoretical experiments, the origin of the titans, and more. Izuku feels accepted here. He’s one of them and he’s earned his place.
Bertholdt, Renier, and Annie’s betrayals are devastating.
Izuku likes to think he’s smart, good at analysis. But while he and Armin suspected traitors, he never expected the level of horror and destruction they’ve wrought. It horrifies him to think that when Reiner and Bertholdt attacked Shiganshina, they were young.
Kids that destroyed the world.
When Bertholdt and Reiner get a hold of Eren, Izuku wants to tear them apart. He rides with Mikasa and Armin, with the Scouts as hard as he can, hatred for the titans burning in his eyes. They took their friend, their only chance at saving humanity. They took him. For no reason. No reason other than mass-murder. Genocide of the human race.
It makes no sense.
The battle to retrieve Eren is awful. More than half the Scouts fall. Senseless, mindless violence and death. Izuku takes out three titans before he's thrown to the ground, slamming into the earth with a choked cry. He’s sitting without a horse in the middle of an all-out titan battle, easy pickings for any titan that would want to eat him.
“IZUKU!” he hears Armin scream from above, swinging towards him with his ODM gear. The titan nearby roars as Armin slashes its nape, rushing immediately to Izuku’s side, not bothering to watch the titan fall.
“No, no, no,” Armin chants, devastated as he looks Izuku over. Izuku wonders why, he’s fine, it doesn’t hurt. He looks down and is surprised to see an open hole in his stomach, wide enough that he can see straight through to the ground underneath him.
Oh.
“S’okay, Armin,” Izuku coughs weakly, “Doesn’t hurt.”
The blood pours out of him, all over the grass, soaking into his white pants. In his daze, he doesn’t see Eren throw a barehanded punch at a titan’s hand to protect Mikasa, doesn’t see the other titans run away from the battle towards Bertholdt and Reiner, away from them all. Armin is leaning over him, sobbing as he brushes Izuku’s hair from his eyes.
“Izuku…” Armin cries, wrapping an arm under Izuku’s back, “No, hey, come on. Stay with me.”
Izuku has wondered what it would be like to die. He honestly thought he’d end up being eaten by a titan, so this…this is better. Dying in a friend’s arms, even if he never makes it home, that’s not bad. He’s seen worse ways to die over the past few years.
“A-Armin,” Izuku coughs, knowing he’s spitting up blood, “C-Can you tell me again? What’s outside the walls?”
Armin chokes on a sob, holding Izuku’s hand tightly. “The sea,” he starts, smiling at Izuku through his tears, “Rocks that take days to climb, endless deserts, water that glitters, ice like fire. We’ll see it together, right? You and me.”
Izuku’s vision is going blurry, dark around the edges. Armin pulls him into a hug, sobbing as he rocks Izuku against him. Izuku can’t hear the battle anymore, can’t hear Eren and Mikasa’s worried shouts, of others rushing to them both, shouting to get on horses.
“D-Do you think I’ll go home, Armin? When I wake up?”
“Y-Yeah,” Armin sobs, holding Izuku tightly, “You will, you’re going home, Izuku.”
Armin holds him as he dies, kissing his forehead, crying over him as the last breath leaves Izuku’s lungs.
“I hope you wake up in a kinder world.”
Izuku wakes. He blinks, looking down at his stomach. He’s wearing his scout uniform, but there’s no hole in his stomach. His ODM gear is strapped to his body and he feels…fine.
Alive, at least.
“A-Armin?” he chokes out, coughing, “Where are you?”
A wailing noise makes his heart jump in his chest, reaching up to cover his ears. Another titan? I’ve never heard them scream like that. Where am I?
It takes him a solid few seconds to recognize he’s hearing an ambulance siren. Blinking, he takes in the scene around him in a rush, stomach dropping when he realizes he’s in the same godforsaken alley where he’d found Dimension years ago.
He’s made it back home.
Stunned, Izuku stands, legs wobbling. He has to get to Armin. He has to help save Eren and help save the walls. He’s a scout, he can’t…he can’t just leave them.
“Eraserhead, here!” a voice shouts from the dark, Izuku instantly on the defensive. He leaps up, drawing his blades and pulling them out in front of him. He stays in his fierce stance, using the training from Captain Levi to focus on his surroundings.
“Midoriya,” a voice says, breathless and anxious, “Midoriya, is that you?”
Midoriya.
Midoriya.
He never was Midoriya with the Scouts. Always Izuku. Izuku with no family name. Izuku joked with Armin he should just be an Arlert, making his friend blush. Armin. Eren. Mikasa. Hange. Levi. He had died, died and left them. Left them to a fate worse than death.
Aizawa steps into view and the sight of such a familiar face makes Izuku stumble. He doesn’t drop his blades but he falls to his knees, looking up at the sky. He thinks about watching the stars with Armin, heart clenching. He was gone. He was gone. He died and left Armin alone, alone in that hellscape.
Izuku looks up at Aizawa, sensing how his teacher is tracking his strange clothes, his older face.
“How do I go back?” Izuku says, seeing Aizawa’s eyes widening in surprise at the question.
“T-They need soldiers,” Izuku continues, raising a shaking hand to his forehead, “They…half the Scouts got wiped out, I have to go back. I have to go back.”
He stays on his knees, the green cape of his scout uniform hugging him like a blanket. The wings of freedom. What kind of soldier was he, to abandon his duty?
“Midoriya,” Aizawa says gently, cautiously, “You’ve been missing for a week. You were in a battle with Dimension. Do you remember?”
Izuku wants to laugh. To cry. A week. Only one week has passed here. God, everything seems so insignificant compared to what’s happening back with Armin and the others. Nothing here is as terrible, nothing as awful as the titan threat. The world UA is in is a paradise in comparison.
“That was years ago,” he says with a humorless laugh, as he points the blades of his sword towards the ground, “I’m a soldier now.”
There’s chaos all around him.
Wailing sirens, screaming, telephones, buzzing electricity. Izuku had almost forgotten how loud his world was. Sure, titan attacks are noisy, but nothing quite as grating as a car horn. Izuku winces as an EMT shines a light in his eyes, staying silent as he’s asked question after question.
All he can think about is the Scouts. Armin. Eren. Mikasa. Levi and the others. Are they alive? They need Izuku. They need as many competent soldiers as possible. And Izuku was a scout, he was in a squad with the best of the best. He might not be as technically competent as Mikasa, as strong as Eren, or as tactically brilliant as Armin. But he stood with them and gave his all.
He gave his heart to humanity. Standing on a mountain of corpses, of those who had died in front of him, eaten, mangled, and destroyed. And here he was, getting another chance. He had been to hell, even faced his own death, and now he’s back home.
It’s not fair.
He doesn’t deserve this. Doesn’t deserve to be saved.
Not like Armin. Not like Levi. Not like everyone in the hellhole he left.
“Midoriya,” Aizawa’s voice cuts in, breaking him from his silent stupor. He realizes they’re in a hospital now, the sterile white and the beeping of machinery throwing him off. He doesn’t remember getting there, but he almost smirks in spite of himself when he thinks of how much Captain Levi would appreciate the cleanliness.
Izuku’s still in his uniform, his green cape and ODM gear in the corner of the room. Aizawa is there with him, with another man Izuku vaguely recognizes but can’t remember.
“I hope you wake up in a kinder world,” Armin had said to him. Izuku’s stomach clenches, praying that Armin was still alive. That all of them were. Had they all been slaughtered there like he was, dead in the fields? The last of the Scouts?
“Midoriya,” Aizawa says gently, Izuku finally looking up at him. He sees Aizawa flinch, wondering what he’s seeing on his face.
“Let’s start with some questions,” Aizawa says calmly, not addressing the other person in the room with them, “What year is it?”
“It’s 850,” Izuku says instantly, voice sounding strangely loud to him in the hospital room, “Five years after the fall of Shiganshina and a few months after the victory at Trost.”
Aizawa raises an eyebrow, not reacting more than that. “Shiganshina? Trost? I’m not familiar with those places.”
“You’re not from the walls,” Izuku responds, keeping his eyes fixated on the symbol of the wings of freedom, the green cloak laying limp over the ODM gear, “You wouldn’t be.”
The other man in the room stands, clearing his throat and walking over to Izuku.
“Midoriya, my name is Detective Tsukauchi,” he says calmly, “I am with the police and I’m here to interview you. My quirk is lie detection, and I will be able to tell if your answer is true or false.”
Izuku doesn’t respond. He doesn’t like MP’s very much.
“Izuku, you said the year was 850, which my quirk detected as true,” Tsukauchi continues, “However, it’s a different year in our world. You’ve only been missing for a week here. How long were you gone for?”
Izuku looks up, eyes steely and dark. “Three years, sir.”
Aizawa sucks in a breath, but Izuku doesn’t react. If this is an interrogation, he’ll give the most curt answers he can.
“Can you explain where you were?” Tsukauchi says.
Explain…where I was….
It’s too vague of a question and Izuku’s head swims. He feels for the first time since he returned a break in his composure, his hands shaking as he grips his legs.
“Izuku,” Aizawa interrupts, a look of understanding coming over his face, “Give us your report, soldier.”
Izuku shudders, but his back firms up at the command. He stands up slowly, bringing his fist across his chest and the other behind his back in the formal salute.
“Sir,” Izuku says, voice flat and even, “The Scout regiment was engaging the Colossal and the Armored Titan in order to retrieve Eren, executing Commander Erwin’s battle plan. I estimate at least sixty percent casualties in the Scout regiment…including…”
He drifts for a moment, his fist starting to waver. “I-Including myself, sir.”
Something in Aizawa’s eyes flash at that, reaching over to gently help Izuku sit back down.
“It’s as we thought,” Tsukauchi murmurs, “Dimension said her victims only returned upon their deaths.”
Deaths…their deaths…he left Armin to his death…
“Armin,” Izuku chokes out, hands shaking as he brings a hand up to his face, “A-Armin…”
He hears Aizawa and Tsukauchi talking to him but Izuku can’t focus. He can only think of those he’s left behind, of the soldiers and friends dying.
He drifts.
Izuku is different now. He knows this. He’s aged a thousand years. Every night for the next week he wakes up, a scream halfway in his throat as he thinks of the horrors he’s seen. Screaming Armin’s name and the names of their dead squad members. Screams when he dreams of how they were betrayed, killed by their own comrades.
He hears doctors tell him things like PTSD and combat fatigue. He thinks he might be able to understand, but those words mean nothing to him right now. It doesn’t matter what he’s faced, what he’s dealing with. All soldiers are damaged, broken. He has to push through. There’s no time for him to grieve.
It almost makes him sick to think of how naive he used to be. How starry-eyed. All his childish dreams died in the battlefields of titan country, each one shattered every time he saw someone he cared about die.
But Armin…Armin was so strong. He kept Izuku’s hope alive with stories about outside the walls. With tales about nature, animals. Things Izuku has seen in his own world. Armin kept him tethered, and Izuku died in his arms.
These thoughts occupy most of his time.
“Izuku. Call me Izuku,” Izuku says to everyone. Midoriya sounds…it sounds like someone else. Someone he used to be. He doesn’t respond to Deku, either. Just Izuku.
Izuku of the 104th Cadet Corps.
Izuku of the Scout Regiment. Of Levi Squad.
After two weeks of little to no responses from Izuku to anyone, he’s still in the hospital room. He doesn’t interact with people, just spends his days sketching, sketching until his hands burn and his fingers ache, drawing cities, titans, Eren’s raging yell, Mikasa’s fierce gaze, the incorruptible stance of Captain Levi from the back, facing a horde of oncoming titans with nothing more that a bored stare. Sasha, surrounded by a hoard of food, laughing gleefully. Hange’s excited expression.
Armin, gazing up at the stars.
He knows the doctors come and look at his sketches, ask him questions, but how can Izuku explain? The people in his world would never and could never understand this…this utterly brutal battle for survival.
The doctors agree moving Izuku to a more familiar room might be better for his health and suggest taking him back to UA. Scientists want to confiscate his ODM gear and his clothes for research. Izuku doesn’t let this happen.
Defend your gear with your life. Lose it and you’re dead.
Izuku breaks someone’s arm with a single kick when they try to take his gear. No one touches his things again.
When he is moved back to the dorms, it’s under supervision. He knows he won’t be alone, not really, and he couldn’t care less. He just wants his sketchbooks, his dreams. He wants to sleep, to go back, to help.
“From what we know, he was sent to a world where humanity was on the brink of extinction,” he hears Aizawa explaining to the rest of his class one afternoon, “He joined a group of rebel fighters, the last warriors of the human race, to battle man-eating monsters. There aren’t any quirks in that world, and their technology was equivalent to ours from hundreds of years ago.”
Aizawa takes a breath in, looking at the startled class. Izuku says nothing from where he’s standing hidden around the corner. “Izuku’s a soldier now, not a child, and he’s seen more death and destruction than you can possibly imagine, including his own. Please keep in mind this world was real and Izuku’s experiences there were real. Please treat him with care. You will find he is not the same as you left him.”
Quite a speech. Izuku doesn’t pay much mind. He goes to his room.
His old room is odd, the technology is odd. Izuku doesn’t like it, doesn’t want it. He tears down all his garish colored hero merch, throwing it in his closet and shoving it away, locking it in a past part of himself. The room is now empty and bare, walls plain enough for him to hang his sketches. Sketches of people, faces of those he loves and places he will never see again.
He drifts.
Izuku doesn’t show much reaction to anything in the dorms until a Saturday night when a few members of 1-A start a food fight in the kitchen. Izuku is downstairs in pajamas, wandering the halls like a ghost when he hears laughter. It reminds him of the barracks and so he walks in, instantly horrified to see food all over the walls, floor, and his classmates.
Oh god, the waste.
“H-How could you?” he asks, anguished, all of them stopping to look towards him, “You know we only have two months of meager supplies at best. How could you? ”
He falls to his knees, wrapping his arms around his stomach, eyes haunted and dark. He thinks of the starving people in the outlying regions, those in the inner wall letting fear take over. The Scouts, who go on a bread roll a day these days if they’re lucky.
“Children are starving in the outer cities,” he whispers, tears running down his cheeks, “People…people are killing each other over food. And you…you’re wasting it. We sacrifice our lives every day to keep you alive and you’re wasting it.”
Izuku looks up at them and for a moment he sees the shocked faces of his classmates, but they blur into the people of the cities, the ones who look down on the Scouts, who belittle their attempts to leave. Who survive on the coattails of the Scouts missions, of the endless pile of corpses.
“We died to protect you,” Izuku chokes out a sob, “You c-can’t waste it.”
The room is silent, Izuku’s small sobs the only sound. The waste, god the waste. Even one piece of bread could make the difference between life and death. He thinks of Armin, of Sasha and her obsession with food, of how all the Scouts drooled at the sight of anything even remotely edible.
Why is Izuku thinking about this? It’s not going to change anything, everyone’s still going to die. It’s pointless, it’s so pointless. He takes a shuddering breath, gripping his arms and trying to get himself together. There’s no time for panic like this, not in the Scouts.
When things got rough and they started to doubt their purpose in the Scouts, Armin would tell them to remember their oaths. Remember that if they didn’t do this, no one would. Humanity would die out. It would be the end.
“Dedicate your hearts,” Izuku sobs, clutching his arms harder, “Armin, I’m s-sorry. I forgot. I forgot.”
He sits alone with his tears for a moment before he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looks up to see the pained eyes of Uraraka.
“We’re sorry, just…please tell us what happened to you, De-Izuku,” Uraraka says gently, tears in her eyes, “Please, we just want to help.”
Izuku stares, unsure of how to respond. He looks over at Hitoshi, remembering what Hitoshi can do, what Hitoshi can help with. God, all of his classmates together…they may have actually stood a shot at stopping the titans. If they had their quirks, they could have…they could have won.
His heart hurts, knowing full well they would have helped with or without quirks. They would have, just like he did. They deserve to hear. To understand.
“Hitoshi,” Izuku says after a moment, looking up at his friend, “Please.”
Hitoshi exhales, understanding what Izuku’s asking, turning to him and saying, “What are you thinking?"
“I-”
And Izuku drifts in a haze as Hitoshi brainwashes him, helping him explain. He hears Hitoshi asking him questions, questions about where he was. Questions about the titans, the battles, the deaths. His own death.
And so he talks, answering Hitoshi’s questions. For hours, he talks and talks, until he’s hoarse. Some of his classmates have to leave, unable to hear the gruesome things he’s gone through. When Izuku describes the carnage of Trost, of seeing Marco’s half eaten body, someone actually gets ill.
When Hitoshi pulls him back out of it, his remaining classmates are looking at him with horror, not a dry eye in the room. Bakugou is looking at Izuku in a way he never has, with respect. Izuku was a Scout, he was older than them all now, and he had seen hell and lived to talk about it. He wasn’t a naive fifteen year old anymore.
He was a soldier.
Aizawa told him that it would be a good idea to let Izuku’s experience help in taking down the League. He hadn’t activated his quirk at all since returning, unsure if he even could. He had died in the other world, which means his quirk could be gone for good. He’s scared to activate it, scared to know the finality.
But despite this fear, it seems less important now than before. Having a quirk. The bravest people he ever knew were quirkless. All of them.
So, when Aizawa brings Izuku into a meeting with all the top pros and the head of the police, decked out in his Scout uniform and ODM gear, Izuku helps. He just wishes it was for something more important. In another world, they’re fighting for their very survival. This all just seems so trivial in comparison.
“The League will be easily subdued, sir,” Izuku says in a dead voice, looking over the information presented, “I would like to offer my assistance putting together a strategic battle plan. I have experience in tactical warfare.”
The hero leading the operation looks at him, stunned. “Uh, sure, I guess?”
Izuku bites his lip before nodding, drawing out a large and complicated structure for an assault. He hopes Commander Erwin would be proud.
After all, he remembered his entire complicated formation.
Izuku’s been back in his own world for two months. He’s managed to reconnect with some of his friends, his mom. He activates his quirk. It doesn’t fill him with the relief that he expected, but it’s good to know he has a weapon. It fills him with determination.
He wonders if he can get Dimension to send him back, with his quirk intact. Back to the Scouts, back to Armin and the others. Izuku gets permission to see her in Tartarus after a lengthy therapy process. Fortunately, everyone seems to believe that it will do him good, and so the visit is arranged.
He feels no anxiety about being in her presence. She’ll be behind quirk-reinforced glass and she’s not the biggest threat he’s ever faced. He’s seated across from her, dressed in his Scout uniform. He even managed to wear the ODM gear.
Izuku’s prepared to leave. Today.
“I heard you were gone for a few years,” Dimension says, looking conflicted, “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t realize when I was fighting you that you were just a kid, or I would have sent you somewhere kinder.”
Izuku doesn’t speak, waiting for her to continue.
“I usually only send people to that realm with my quirk when I need to get them out of the way quickly. Almost everyone dies in the first few hours there, so they reappear fairly fast back in this world. I can’t believe you actually became a Scout. They’re insane, from what I’ve seen.”
Izuku stares her down, “Do not disrespect them."
“I’m not,” she sighs, “I’m impressed. I heard you had something you wanted to ask, little survivor. Why I did it, perhaps?”
“No,” Izuku says calmly, “I don’t care about your motivations. I want to know if you can send me back.”
She stares.
Izuku stares.
“You want to go back?” Dimension laughs in disbelief, “Why? Look, kid, I’ve seen countless worlds, and that one is one of the worst. You’ll be hard pressed to find a place shittier than that.”
Izuku rubs his temples. “Just answer the question.”
“Sure, I could,” she says, still looking stunned he’d consider it, “But I don’t know why you’d care. It’s been over eighty years in their time since you left. Everyone you met there would be dead.”
Izuku freezes.
Dead.
Everyone, dead.
Armin.
He chokes out a sob, kicking himself for not considering this. His eyes go dark and wild, his breathing erratic as he processes that all of them, even if they ended up living happy lives, are gone.
“I’m sorry,” Dimension says, sounding truly regretful, “I can’t send you back to the people you’re missing, but…I can check what happened to them. I can’t send myself, but I can check…in my mind. It’s a bit complicated to explain.”
“Please,” Izuku begs, desperate for anything she can give him, “Please, tell me. Did…did we do it? Did we save humanity?”
Her eyes close, silent for a long few minutes. Izuku is gripping his knees so hard they’re aching, desperate to know. He has to know what happened to them.
Dimension’s eyes open, full of tears, and she tells him.
She tells him there are no more walls and no titans. They won. Many had died in the war but Armin lived.
Armin lived.
They had won.
“Thank you,” Izuku chokes out, unable to stop from crying as he grieves. They did it. Did at all, did it without him. Against all odds, they did it and survived.
Izuku exits Tartarus and asks Aizawa, who’s escorting him, if they can make a stop before they return to UA. They drive to a familiar place, Izuku stepping out of the car and looking out towards the sunset. The light reflects off the metal of his ODM gear, glinting in the sun.
He walks slowly, purposefully. Striding towards the water. His heart thuds, aching with grief and loss. Armin had made it. Armin had seen everything he set out to see. He survived. Izuku survived. Despite it all.
There, at the edge of Dagobah beach where it all started years ago, Izuku of the Scout Regiment and the 104th Cadet Corps, Deku, the holder of One For All, sits down in the sand, faces the ocean, and cries.
“We finally made it, Armin,” Izuku whispers through his tears, looking out over the sun-kissed water, “The sea.”