Chapter Text
Funnily enough, Izuku was right back where everything started. The strong nation of Japan. Although, it had changed significantly in the past three hundred years or so since Izuku had first seen it. The invention of electricity really caused some massive developments, as well as the popularization of indoor plumbing. You wouldn’t find Izuku complaining, even though it was a pain to keep track of.
Currently sitting on the edge of a tall building in the city of Mustafu, feet swinging lazily in the night air, Izuku let his eyes wander over blinking lights and slow-moving cars. So high up, everything was just a blur. The bustling sounds of traffic below were a faint whisper in the wind, accompanied by the distant sound of crickets chirping their goodnight calls. Leaning back slightly, resting his hands behind him on the rough surface of the roof, Izuku let himself breathe. He closed his eyes, felt the cool breeze on his cheeks.
The wind on his face was sharp and cold, stinging his eyes painfully. He grasped the hilt of his sword tightly in the face of such unwieldy weather. In front of him stood a menacing figure bathed in a blood-red aura. It made him sick to his stomach. He pointed his sword at the figure, planting his feet firmly on the rough terrain. The figure ahead smiled a sick and twisted grin, crazed eyes gleaming. He grit his teeth, lunging forward, sword swinging in a calculated arc.
For a second, a brief, hopeful second, he thought he might have done it. That he could finally rest. Only when he looked down to find blood soaking through his armor did he realize that hope was nothing but a fool’s gamble.
Izuku opened his eyes again slowly. Suddenly, the refreshing breeze felt colder than before, less inviting. He looked down at his hands, covered in scratches and calluses yet lacking the odd shape that years of holding a sword did to his fingers. In this lifetime, he worked mainly with a staff, some knives, and a gun every now and then. The heavy sword he used to wield was nothing but a distant memory. On nights like this, Izuku found himself missing its weight, its ability to keep him grounded even in the middle of battle.
As he looked over the brightly lit city below, he wondered (not for the first time) if this would be his last life. If, by some miracle, this would be the time where he finally completed his mission.
Truth of the matter was that Izuku was tired. Exhausted.
He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he failed. Because he didn’t know how many more lives he had left in him.
Izuku rolled his eyes as he watched two men try and rob an ATM machine with little success. Honestly, it was a little bit sad. He waited a minute, perched on the top of a nearby rooftop, and observed the pair as they fumbled with a crowbar. Both men were dressed in all black and looked comically similar to the robbers from Home Alone. Izuku prepared to jump down and scare the two off with a warning, when a lone woman on her way home turned onto the street of the ATM. The men, hearing the sound of footsteps, whirled around. Upon seeing the woman, one of the men reached into his jacket pocket for a weapon. The woman backed up in a panic, and ended up falling on the street.
Izuku chose that time to step in.
Swiftly, he climbed down the side of the three story building, using the uneven brickwork as handholds on his way down. As he came closer, he could hear the woman pleading with the armed robber.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
The man, several feet in front of the woman, pointed a gun in her direction; the woman's trembling voice stumbled to a stop. The other man continued fiddling with the ATM machine, unbothered.
“Give me your purse and your phone. Scream and I’ll shoot. Got it?” The man barked, waving his weapon haphazardly to emphasize his point. The woman quickly pulled out her purse from her bag, hands shaking vigorously. After she had placed her purse on the ground in front of her, she raised her hands palm outwards in a non-threatening position.
“Please, I-I can’t give you my phone, all of my son’s pictures are there and I can’t lose them , please I’ll give you anything else-” The woman’s voice broke off in a sob.
Izuku inched closer to the scene, staying close to the surrounding buildings to keep his cover. While moving forwards, he unclipped his pistol from the holster on his thigh, keeping the safety on. Once he was close enough to the robber at the ATM, he made his move.
Dashing towards the man still fiddling with the machine, Izuku kicked his foot out swiftly, connecting harshly to the backside of the man’s knee. With a cry of surprise, the robber’s leg buckled, and Izuku was quick to slam the butt of his gun against his temple. The man collapsed fully to the ground, unconscious.
Hearing his partner’s yell, the other robber turned his body towards the sound only to be met by Izuku rushing towards him. The man’s eyes widened in surprise and he moved to point his gun at the new assailant, but Izuku was faster. Moving fluidly, almost like a trained dancer, Izuku ducked under the man’s extended arm, pivoting his body gracefully, and slammed his elbow into the man’s stomach. The man audibly wheezed, and the gun fell from his hands to the road with a clatter. Before the man could regain his senses, Izuku slammed the butt of his weapon yet again against a man’s temple. The man was on the ground in seconds.
The alleyway was quiet. Izuku, after putting his gun back into its sheath, turned to the woman still sitting on the road ahead. She looked at him with wide, watery eyes, her mouth agape. The flickering street lights made her look deathly pale, almost as if she were a ghost. Or had just seen a ghost.
Walking forward, Izuku knelt a few feet away from the woman. He picked up her purse, still on the ground, and offered it to her from a safe distance.
“Here, I believe this belongs to you. Are you hurt?” he asked gently, his voice soft. It seemed to shake the woman out of her shock, as she immediately started sobbing brokenly, thanking Izuku profusely.
“Oh my god, thank you so much! I was so scared, and I didn’t know what to do, and I couldn’t give him my phone because it’s the only place I have my son’s photos and I thought he was going to kill me…”
As the woman cried, Izuku began searching the two men for any weapons. Other than the one gun, the crowbar, and a few stray knives, they had nothing. Izuku pocketed the knives and unloaded the gun’s ammo into a nearby garbage can, replacing the empty clip. After making sure the two men were weaponless, he ziptied their wrists behind their backs with the ties he kept in his utility belt. Once he made sure they were secure, he turned back to the woman.
“-and I know I should back up the photos somewhere else but every time I try it just seems impossible-”
“Excuse me?” Izuku interrupted politely. The woman stopped her panicked rambling, looking up at Izuku with a guilty expression.
“I’m so sorry! Please, tell me what I can do to repay you!” She cried, tears still streaming down her face.
Izuku smiled at her sadly.
“No need. I was just going to ask you to call the police, if you feel comfortable. I’ll stay with you until they get here, but I need to leave before they actually see me. Does that sound okay?”
The woman nodded frantically, scrubbing her face with her hands before reaching into her bag to retrieve her phone. It only took a few minutes for her to explain the situation to the police; once the call ended, she and Izuku sat in the dark alleyway together silently.
After several minutes of quiet, the woman fixed Izuku with a curious look. He was currently sitting on the ground, his back propped against a nearby building, looking up at the night sky. He was wearing dark pants and a dark sweatshirt, with a surgical mask on his face and a black beanie on his head. Underneath the hat she could vaguely see what looked to be green hair, but she wasn't sure. He was thin and short like a child, but carried more weapons than the average police officer. He had a few holsters strapped to his legs, one on his forearm, and a utility belt with various handles sticking out the different pockets. Not to mention how quickly he took out those two men. It was a little shocking, to say the least.
“I… I don’t mean to pry, especially after you helped me so much,” the woman started hesitantly, “But you just sound so much like how my little boy did and…” her voice trailed off, breaking slightly. She took a deep breath before continuing. “You’re obviously skilled, and you seem to have some pretty intense equipment. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Still gazing up at the stars, the corners of Izuku’s mouth twitched upwards. The question made sense; even with a face covering, Izuku was still rather small. He wasn’t built like a fully grown man, that much was certain.
“Old enough,” Izuku joked with a smirk. The woman gave him a dumbfounded look before chuckling quietly, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound.
Police sirens echoed in the distance, not too far from where they were sitting. She looked at him worriedly, the smile gone from her face. Izuku sighed, savoring one last look at the stars before heaving himself upwards. He turned to the woman and bowed theatrically, gesturing with his hands to make it look like he was tipping an invisible hat.
“Well, it seems I must be off,” Izuku said in a jovial tone, grinning sarcastically. The woman laughed, a cheerful sound that contrasted the dark and grim atmosphere of the ally. Izuku lowered his gaze, looking at the woman with a more serious look in his eyes.
“Please, stay safe.” He spoke genuinely, his words sincere and heavy. The woman blinked rapidly, her eyes watering. She nodded, too taken aback to speak. With the sound of a police car approaching, Izuku disappeared into the night without another word. While the woman watched him go, she thought back to his kind and steady gaze, much too dark and knowing for how young he had sounded. It looked like he had seen the world and all it’s mysteries; his pupils held a wisdom she had never seen before, an understanding that made her question the life he must have lived to reach that point. As she was escorted home by a police officer after giving her statement and being checked over, looking tiredly outside the window at the passing buildings, she wondered if the boy had a family. A mother. Her bleak gaze dropped down to her hands, folded in her lap.
She hoped that he did.
With all her heart, she hoped that the boy had somewhere to call home.
As Izuku jumped from rooftop to rooftop, he thought of his mission. The thing he had devoted hundreds of years trying to accomplish. Dozens of lifetimes, more identities than Izuku could keep track of. He vowed that this would be the one. The lifetime where he finally succeeded.
The lifetime where he ended All For One.