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At first, he was nervous to approach anybody, even his other selves. So he spent his entire morning hiding in his temporary room, struggling to suppress the itch to get out and do something productive. Normally he would check cameras when he was stuck in his room, but given the situation that was clearly not an option. He knew he had to just go and do something, even if it was taking a walk. If he stayed in his room any longer, all of his efforts might go to waste! He knew that his increased physical ability wouldn’t disappear from a little laziness, but it was the principle of it!
But by the time he built up the courage to leave his room, it was already well into the evening. In fact, his stomach growled for the first time in hours, as if seeing how dark it was outside made it realize that it hadn’t been satiated all day.
Reluctantly, he tip-toed downstairs, hoping he could get a bite to eat and wander around the campus without being spotted. His luck, however, was as awful as usual. As soon as he stepped foot in the common room, he was met with giggles and waving from the students of Class 1-A. It felt very strange to be greeted so openly. He could only assume it was just because his counterparts and some of the teachers were the only ones who knew that he was quirkless.
Of course, he couldn’t understand why none of them had told them, but he wasn’t going to complain. His gut churned uncomfortably as he grappled once again with the fact that he was lying to them, even if it was simply by omission.
He was taking advantage of them and wasting their time all while they didn’t know what he was.
A few of them called out to him, inviting him to join the playful conversation, but he forced himself to decline.
“N-no thanks! S-s-sorry for disturbing the conversation. I j-just wanted some food…” he stuttered, desperately wishing he wasn’t so awkward.
No one seemed too upset with his response; he couldn’t help but breathe a small sigh of relief.
Sparing a quick glance around the room, Viridian noticed that Kaminari wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but be a bit worried for his friend, especially since he was practically a social butterfly.
He was understandably startled, then, when the blonde appeared out of nowhere, holding a plate filled with food, “Hi! You said you were hungry, so I went ahead and served you a plate, if that’s okay? We made enough for everyone to share!”
Viridian stared, mouth wide-open in surprise, “O-oh! Th-thank you. Y-you didn’t have to do that, Kaminari!”
Kaminari just laughed, “Nah, it was no problem. Just let us know if you need anything!”
Viridian was mortified when the only response he could muster was a surprised squeak. However, the blonde didn’t seem to make anything of it, merely offering a small grin before whisking himself into the chaos of conversations.
Actually, this scene was practically one of Viridian’s nightmares. He was the exact opposite of a people person! He could only hope they would leave him alone to eat in peace so he could make his escape before he inevitably did something wrong.
Unfortunately for his anxious demeanor, he could only watch as another version of himself slinked towards him. He was pretty sure this one was the one they decided to call Izuku, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Hell, he wasn’t entirely sure that they were entirely serious when they had decided on using different variations of their names to differentiate them, but that wasn’t the point either.
“Um, h-hi!” Izuku stuttered, looking as anxious as Viridian felt.
“Uh, hello.”
Instead of either of them following up their greetings with some kind of small-talk, the awkward silence settled between them.
See? He was screwing it up already!
“You two are just so cute!”
Both Viridian and Izuku started as they whirled around to face the other version of themselves that had interrupted their perfectly acceptable moment of silence.
It was definitely normal! Nothing socially wrong with him! Nope! Certainly not!
“Cu-cute?” Izuku squeaked, only for Slip (or at least, Viridian thought it was Slip), to nod enthusiastically.
“You’re both just so socially awkward that, standing together, I can’t help but think of my socially awkward brothers.”
“I’m not socially awkward!” Viridian squeaked. And why couldn’t he stop doing that?
Of course, he couldn’t help but hunch in on himself in embarrassment when he was met with not one, but two, looks that clearly disagreed with him. Viridian could only hope that the heat he felt washing over his cheeks didn’t look as obvious as it felt. Although, it wasn’t as if he had much dignity left to preserve, given how they both knew he was quirkless.
“W-well, Izuku is socially awkward too! It-it isn’t just me!” he refuted, hoping that he could redirect the conversation.
“He’s got you there,” Slip snorted at Izuku’s dismayed expression.
“You say that as if we aren’t all socially inept.”
Apparently, Kino decided that it was prime time to join their little conversation, “He does have a point, you know.”
“Oh what do you know?” Slip retorted, grinning as if he didn’t mean it.
Perhaps it was a joke? Like how Eraser liked to tease him. But Kino didn’t seem like he was enjoying it either. He just seemed... Sad.
Disappointed?
Lost…
But then again, hadn’t they just made it clear how bad he was with people? Who was he to make assumptions and guesses about how people felt when he couldn’t even hold a normal conversation without second-guessing himself.
“Not enough, I guess,” Kino relented, shrugging as the uncertainty melted from his features. Or whatever that emotion was supposed to be, since there was no way Viridian could have read that correctly.
“Um, s-so do we have any ideas what is going on, o-or…?” Izuku effortlessly changed the subject.
Yeah, perhaps Viridian really was the only socially inept version of himself. How fitting. Even among himself, he was still a failure. A Deku.
“Nope!” Slip grinned as if he wasn’t confirming their fears, “We have no ideas! And as far as I’m aware, neither do any of the teachers! Even Nezu is completely perplexed!”
“You say that as if it’s a good thing,” Viridian couldn’t help but blurt out, flinching at how all three of their gazes zeroed in on him in an instant, “I-is it a good thing?”
Kino sighed, “Well, it depends. I’m sure there are time-sensitive issues for all of us, which might be a problem depending on how we get back home. If we get back home, that is. But at the same time, there could be valuable information that is consistent between worlds that might be worthwhile. It all depends on what we make of the situation we’re in.”
Izuku looked down at the floor, “There’s no good that could come out of me learning anything.”
Viridian bit his lip at the way guilt practically dripped from his face. All of his instincts were telling him that Izuku was full of guilt and self-loathing, but Viridian couldn’t see how that would make sense.
He had a quirk and was at UA, even if he wasn’t in the hero course. He had the chance to make something of himself.
Izuku was everything Viridian wanted to be but had long since learned he couldn’t. Hell, every other version of himself had attained something that the young vigilante knew he could never hope to earn or deserve.
Viridian didn’t really know what to say in response, so he averted his eyes and let the other two handle whatever that was. As his luck had it, he accidentally met Kacchan’s contemplative stare with his own gaze. Instinctively, he stiffened, but that only seemed to make Kacchan’s scowl deepen. But instead of trudging over to yell at him, or maybe hit him, the blonde merely scoffed and looked away.
It seemed that the crisis had been avoided, but at what cost…?
His surprise was quickly replaced with anxiety as he watched the boy with bright red hair (Kirishima?) follow Kacchan’s line of sight and end up staring back at the young vigilante. For a moment, he hoped that the boy would just look at him with curiosity and he would ultimately be left alone. The universe, however, was not on his side. (When had it ever been?)
The UA student trudged over with a lopsided grin and a wave. It was in that moment that Viridian realized he was still holding onto the plate of food that Kaminari had handed him several minutes ago.
Wow, he must look like an idiot.
Frantically, he glanced around, desperately searching for any excuse to look busy and not have to talk to anybody else. Unfortunately, the only distractions were the other students. With a sigh, Viridian mentally prepared himself for the disaster that was bound to happen. He could only hope that he didn’t blurt out something stupid, like the fact that he was quirkless. Luckily for his socially inept self, the red-haired boy seemed content to lead the conversation.
“Are you doing okay, bro?” the student asked.
“Y-yeah! Everything is fine!” he squeaked, glancing towards the kitchen in hopes of finding a place to sit down and eat in peace, “I guess I’m just feeling a bit… out of place?”
“That would make sense,” Kirishima laughed, “Here, let’s find you a seat on one of the couches, you can eat there while we all talk your ears off.”
“B-but what if I spill something?”
“Don’t worry about it! Come on, we don’t bite!”
Viridian could only hope that was a joke and not a lie.
But sure enough, as he was practically dragged into the middle of the common room, he found himself having fun. In fact, they were all keen to let him participate as much or as little as he wanted. Or rather, a few members of the class made it a point to steer the conversation away from him when he didn’t feel up to conversing. Even his counterparts joined in, although his version of himself from this universe was suspiciously absent.
But aside from that, it was great.
But when he saw Piper (or at least he thought that was Piper; to be honest, he was still a bit uncertain on what they had decided the previous night) peek in nervously before quickly leaving the way he came, Viridian knew what he had to do.
Or rather, he had a feeling he knew exactly what Piper was doing. After all, that had been almost exactly what he himself had done until Kaminari all but forced him to stay by strategically handing him a plate of food.
Perhaps Viridian should go give Piper some company, and not to mention some food.
And as he did just that, Slip met his eyes and nodded. Viridian had no idea what that meant, but as he watched the other vigilante grab a plate of food, he was pretty sure he was starting to understand.
The two of them followed Piper up to the roof (and what an ironically in-character place for them to be) and tried to parse out what was upsetting him.
Honestly, Viridian couldn’t help but feel as though he had messed the conversation up, even with Slip and later Kino there to back him up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his frustration, but he didn’t want to upset them either! His only option was to leave before he messed something else up. And leave he did.
But as he retreated back to his temporary room, he couldn’t help but think about their previous conversations. Perhaps what Slip had said—the fact that they were all socially inept and awkward—had more merit than any of them would like to believe.
Somehow, that realization only made him even more worried for the other versions of himself. He had no idea what they were going through. And part of him wondered if he even wanted to know at all.
Unfortunately, Viridian found himself unable to fall asleep after their little midnight conversation on the roof. The nausea in his gut refused to dissipate, He couldn’t hold back his newfound concerns, especially since a few of his counterparts seemed so determined to keep it to themselves. Yet even if he tried to help, he knew that he would most likely just make it all worse, especially considering the terrible job he had done a few hours prior.
After spending all morning hiding in his room, Viridian was still itching to get up and do something productive. Against his better judgment, he finally decided to just go sit in the common room and maybe possibly work up the courage to make himself hot chocolate or something.
Of course, that was if they even had the ingredients for it and if he decided that he was willing to put himself through the emotional torment that was wasting their food without permission. But that was neither here nor there.
He slowly opened the door of his temporary room, infinitely grateful when it didn’t so much as squeak on its hinges. Tiptoeing to the best of his ability, the young vigilante made his way to the common room. The hallways were eerily silent, especially compared to the boisterous atmosphere just hours prior. As he entered the common room, he was a bit wary. Logically, he understood that the dorms on UA’s campus (and wasn’t that still a wild thought: UA was a boarding school here!) was likely one of the most safe and secure places a person could be.
That knowledge, however, did not stop him from jumping nearly half a meter off the ground when he saw a figure shift in the middle of the open and empty room. And no, he absolutely did not let out a high pitched squeak, thank you very much.
“O-oh,” the figure breathed, turning towards him and exposing two familiar, toxic green irises.
Viridian choked on his spit and clutched at his chest, struggling to breathe through his nose and fend off a coughing fit as his heart rate spiked. The deep thud against his ribs sent pulses of aches throughout his body, fake pains that were more from anxiety than any type of physical injury.
It took a moment to realize that the figure looming in the dark room was just one of his counterparts and not a villain, “Um, hi. Sorry. I-I can leave!”
“N-no!” one of his counterparts (he wasn’t entirely sure which one) waved his arms frantically.
“A-are you sure?”
“It’s fine, I just… couldn’t sleep is all. I wasn’t doing anything, so you aren’t interrupting.”
Viridian took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out before glancing around for the light switch. The two of them stood still as he tried (and failed) to locate the switch. After a moment, his counterpart seemed to catch on to what he was looking for and strode purposefully towards him. As he got closer, the young vigilante realized that it was this universe’s Midoriya and not one of the other dimension travelers.
Or at least, he thought it was. He wasn’t entirely sure, especially since they all looked very similar to one another. His gut squirmed uncomfortably; a stolen glance at the mangled, scar-ridden hands confirmed his assumption.
He watched, a blush spreading across his freckled cheeks, as Midoriya walked past him and flicked the switch on, revealing the location to have been right behind him the entire time. Whoops.
Despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t hold back his curiosity, “Why were you here with all the lights off?”
“I didn’t want to bother or wake anybody up. Everyone could use all the sleep they could get, these days.”
The question seemed to have caught his counterpart off-guard, but the response left Viridian speechless.
This Midoriya had a quirk so why did he still act as though he was a burden on everyone else? He wasn’t useless quirkless helpless waste of space, so how could he stand in the dark, stewing in his own thoughts without asking for the help he deserved?
It made no sense.
But then again, Kacchan hadn’t exactly made sense the night before this whole mess happened, so there was probably more to the story here than he was aware of.
“Um, I know this kind of isn’t my place to say this…” he mumbled, glancing away from Midoriya’s intense gaze, “But your friends care about you. You should… let them help you.”
He didn’t see his counterpart’s reaction to his suggestion, but he could guess it was some form of annoyance or frustration. That was how people usually responded to his suggestions, excluding the heroes he had become acquainted with in the past few months, so he couldn’t see how this would be any different.
Except it was, apparently.
“You…” he breathed, clearly making an effort to hold back his emotions, given how shaky it was, “You’re right. And I know that. But I can’t. If they knew… they’d be in danger too. It’s too risky and…”
Viridian could only listen, awkwardly standing there without any idea of how to respond, to reassure him. At the very least, he should look at him, to be there and try to understand. Or that was what he told himself as he forced himself to glance back up at his counterpart. He was not prepared for the conflicted, upset, resigned expression that twisted itself onto the previously soft features of his face as he struggled to find the words to express his feelings.
“I’m sorry, you don’t know anything about this, I shouldn’t dump this all on you,” Midoriya blurted out instead of elaborating, shakily twisting his pursed lips into a mockery of a smile.
The vigilante refused to let him, not with a look like that. He called upon confidence and determination that even he hadn’t realized he possessed. He wouldn’t let this go.
“No,” he insisted firmly, “If you’re not going to talk to your friends, you should at least talk to me.”
The way Midoriya’s expression crumpled wrenched his heart. The realization that nobody—not even his friends or teachers or his other selves (as far as he was aware)—had noticed something was wrong was soul-crushing.
“I-it’s just…” he gasped wetly, hiding his face in his hands as if that would keep Viridian from noticing the tears, “Viridian… err, the other Viridian visited our heroics lesson, a-and he off-handedly mentioned me having multiple quirks, a-and now all my classmates are avoiding me and I think they’re more suspicious and I don’t know what to do !”
“Wait, multiple quirks?” Viridian repeated, utterly confused. Maybe it was a case of different quirk effects that seemed unrelated but actually functioned through basic, non-obvious rules.
“U-uh, here I’ll-” Midoriya stuttered, shyly removing one hand from his face and holding it out between them.
Before the vigilante could ask what he was doing, a short black tendril materialized, stretching out from his skin and undulating in the air.
“O-oh!” he squeaked in surprise, “Do you know how it’s related to your quirk? Like how it manifested this way? I can see how they’d think it’s a separate quirk from a strength enhancer, but obviously there’s more to your quirk than that!”
Midoriya lowered both arms, forgetting about the messy tears still dripping from his face as he stared incredulously.
Viridian froze for a moment before rapidly backpedaling, “S-sorry! Y-you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!”
“N-no, it’s just that I wasn’t… I thought you’d be… afraid… or suspicious of someone with multiple quirks,” he admitted warily.
“Oh, I’d be very concerned if you do, in fact, have multiple quirks, but as it stands, a lot of quirks have odd applications and different ways to use them that make it seem as though they’re separate quirks even when they’re fundamentally one. Most quirks have multiple aspects that people don’t really consider, especially when those effects aren’t directly related to the main outcome of the quirk.”
Midoriya only stared at him, clearly having some kind of realization as Viridian nervously continued to ramble.
“I mean, think about Kacchan’s quirk, explosion. Sure, he can produce explosions from his palms, but he has mutation aspects as well! His sweat glands are mutated in a specific region of the body to produce the volatile substance he secretes in place of sweat. He also has some kind of mechanism that creates sparks to set off explosions, which i suspect is some kind of mutation on the epidermis to make it rougher, maybe there are structures that protrude from certain cells that, when Kacchan activates his quirk, rubs together and produces the friction to initiate the explosion. Plus there’s whatever mutations are required to keep his body from getting poisoned by whatever he secretes in place of sweat.”
“I… don’t see how those would create multiple aspects though. That’s just… how it functions?”
Viridian blushed, “W-well, I could probably explain it better if you tell me about your quirk.”
Midoriya shifted a bit, clearly uncomfortable with the idea, though the vigilante couldn’t figure out why that would be the case.
“It’s um… I think Monoma called it a blank? It’s an energy stockpiler as far as I’m aware, but it’s strong enough to break my bones at full strength.”
“Huh, an energy stockpiler? Does it just gather energy as you go about your day? Maybe it siphons from you constantly, draining a bit more than a normal person would use, but you’re used to it so you don’t notice?” Viridian muttered, wondering how that much energy could be gathered within one lifetime without noticeable physical backlash like fatigue and weakness. Or maybe he did experience that and simply didn’t tell anyone, which was always a possibility.
“So uh, how would that manifest something like Blackwhip?”
“Oh! Right! Sorry, I got off-track,” he could feel his cheeks get hot, (they were different versions of the same person, he shouldn’t be this embarrassed by habits they share), “Well, it actually makes a lot more sense if it’s main mechanism is an energy stockpiler, rather than a strength enhancer. Think of it like this: you have a pool of energy you can draw from. Because you’re familiar with using your body, you probably applied that energy to your limbs to augment your movement. This aspect— you called it Blackwhip? —is just a physical manifestation of the pooled energy outside of your body. Probably.”
Midoriya stared at him with wide eyes, but at this point, Viridian was practically vibrating with anxious energy, so he rambled on.
“I obviously can’t be too sure, since quirks are all kinds of weird, but usually they tend to stick to certain rules even if these rules seem to break the laws of physics or the basics of science,” he shrugged, forcing himself to shut up as he watched his counterpart struggle to process what he’d said.
Oops.
He wasn’t sure how he expected Midoriya to respond, nor what he could say to lessen the awkward atmosphere, so he just stood there, still and silent, as he had been defaulting to for this whole conversation.
“S-so… if I could theoretically… float? H-how would you explain that?” he whispered, surprise practically dripping from each syllable.
Viridian narrowed his eyes.
This didn’t seem all that theoretical, but given how closed off Midoriya had been, he decided not to push it, “Hm, that one’s tough. Floating quirks tend to either rely on anti-gravity or air pressure manipulation, and I don’t see how that would relate to an energy stockpiler. Perhaps the energy is converted into some kind of force field that repels air molecules, though I’m not sure what kind. It’s hard to say.”
Midoriya wiped the (now dry) tear tracks from his face and smiled, “Thanks. I guess I have something I can tell them so they don’t think I’m some kind of… of…”
Viridian grimaced as his counterpart’s grateful smile wobbled, “As some monster, I get it. People can’t handle multiple quirks. It requires body modification and ends up degrading the brain, so it makes sense to be worried. But you don’t deserve that!”
For a moment, the vigilante thought he saw fear flash across Midoriya’s features. It appeared and faded in the time it took him to blink, so he could only chalk it up to his imagination.
Because if it wasn’t…
Well, there were implications that were worrying. But that was a problem for later.
He wouldn’t pry, especially after the emotionally charged conversation the two of them had just had.
The two of them both startled as the front door swung wide open, their heads swiveling towards the new presence in sync, only to be met with another of their counterparts.
“O-oh, am I interrupting something?” he stuttered, tucking his head in his scarf. Ah, this was Izuku.
Viridian couldn’t help but wonder where he had been, but he wasn’t feeling up to what was bound to be another tough conversation.
“Um, I’m just gonna… go to bed now,” he blurted out, not giving either of the other two a chance to speak.
Without waiting for a response, he spun around and dashed out of the common room, no thoughts afforded to potentially waking up anyone else in the dorm.
It was probably fine, anyway. His temporary room was on the second floor, after all.