I originally uploaded Phoenix in May of 2018 and it was patently terrible.

After publishing a Funny Weed Day Surprise Upload of some cut content (that was an actual chapter, by the way, complete with where I stopped writing it about a year and a half ago)), I actually felt guilty for dropping the story. v2 wasn't really Phoenix, either, although I definitely want to use the concept for something else.

That said, there were a lot of things I was unhappy with in the original, including the general lack of direction, but I want to stick to the original premise because I feel like, after two years, I'm finally in a position where I can do it some justice.

edit after finishing the chapter: okay so probably not but i can dream

chapter one: kindling

It was Yagi Toshinori's belief that no child should have to live in a world where they could one day find themselves forced to give up their own life - and yet, when faced with a child doing exactly that, he could do nothing but watch as Midoriya Izuku hurled himself into death for the sake of his classmate.

Bakugou Katsuki was, in words never spoken to his face, an asshole.

Izuku was used to this. He'd grown up with his foul-tempered classmate (friend was certainly too strong a word), and more often than not, he'd been the target of the blonde's explosive aggression, be it verbal or physical. Being the good little punching bag that he was, Izuku simply accepted the bullying as a fact of life and never stopped to ask why?

Besides, he'd always think to himself, when I'm a hero, I'm gonna take a lot worse than a few punches, right?

He never said if. That implied there might be another, bleaker future in store for his Quirkless self, and if he were to let go of his dream, what would he be? What would that make him? Who would that make him?

Izuku was nothing if not determined. The seventeen notebooks' worth of Quirk study he'd compiled (Hero Notes for the Future, volume 17 - now on shelves across Japan! he'd joke to himself whenever he reached the last page of another one) were testament to this particular trait, but all the determination in the world couldn't stop him from feeling down once in a while, and today was not a good day.

"Why don't you just throw yourself off a building and hope you get reborn with a Quirk in your next life?"

He knew that saying such a thing was unashamedly, unabashedly cruel and horrible, but it was the fact that Bakugou had said it that truly stung.

There's a lot of anti-Quirkless rhetoric going around, he mused. We make up a minority of the population, after all...but for Kacchan to say something like that is a new low.

To make matters worse, Hero Notes for the Future, Volume 13 now lay facedown in the school courtyard's koi pond; sighing, Izuku fished it out, unable to resist a sad little smile as a couple of curious koi nibbled at his fingers. "Sorry, guys," he chuckled. "I don't have any food for you today. Tomorrow, alright?"

The fish did not reply. This was good; he would have been very concerned if they had.

Heavy grey clouds had given way to pouring rain by the time he left school grounds, complete with the spring's first thunder. Some third year I'm having, huh? he reflected, finding his bright-yellow backpack conspicuously devoid of an umbrella and resigning himself to a thorough soaking. His walk home wasn't exactly long - half an hour, give or take five minutes depending on traffic - but in the rain, five steps felt like fifty, and his gakuran was drenched within thirty seconds.

Guess this means there'll be more villains out than usual, huh? Izuku guessed. You get the villains who like the attention or the collateral of operating in broad daylight with dozens of people around, but most of the petty criminals prefer days like these, where there's less chance of being seen. Maybe I'll get to witness All Might in action, too - I hear he's in town for some reason.

There was no way volume 13 was going to dry out in this weather, but he left it out of his bag anyway; it was best to minimize its contact with the rest of his books until he could spread the pages out in the sun.

Preoccupied with checking to make sure the ink hadn't run and ruined the entire volume, Izuku didn't notice the sludge roiling up from the storm drain ahead of him until it had seized him around the ankles and sent him sprawling face-first onto the gravel underfoot. Confused, he sat up, trying to work out what he'd tripped over, but he didn't need to reach far to discover the slimy appendages wrapped around the cuffs of his pants.

What the -

A pair of eyes the color of stagnant urine bubbled up through the foul-smelling sludge to fixate on Izuku's terrified expression, and he thought he might piss himself. Even as he watched, horrified and transfixed, a set of far too many pearly-whites filtered through the slats in the storm drain, assembling themselves one at a time into a malicious, unnatural imitation of a smile.

"Hey, kid." - and its voice, its voice - Izuku thought he might be sick. The sound didn't come out of the thing's mouth but rather through its body, pockets of noxious gas squeezing out through the slime to form an uncanny mockery of human speech. "Mind helping me out?"

Completely helpless, Izuku could only stammer out a reply: "With - with what?"

"I'm gonna need to borrow your body for just a little bit. It won't hurt at all."

Absolutely not! he wanted to scream, but before he could even react, the sludge was upon him, seeking entry; it probed at his eyes, his nose, his ears, covered his mouth and tried to force its way in, and Izuku, panicking and unable to breathe, quickly realized that his world was starting to go dark.

No - no, this can't be happening - I'm not going to die like this - I still have to become a hero, right? When I die, it'll be either peacefully at home or in a fight with my arch-nemesis, right? Right!?

The blackness washing over the bottom of the bridge above him didn't respond, didn't relent.

Okaa-san's making katsudon tonight because I scored in the top ten on the last round of exams, right?

Slime covered the last of what he could see, and he felt his jaw start to weaken.

She'll be sad if I don't come home to eat it...right?

A mass of something not unlike phlegm, tasting of sewage, found its way between his teeth.

I can't let okaa-san down anymore. Please.

He'd heard that death was cold, and Izuku himself was already cold, so why was he getting warmer?

Maybe I'm going to throw up after all.

Heat, unbearable heat, spread through every inch of his body, and even though he couldn't see anything, he could almost imagine that he was laying faceup in bright sunlight. Perhaps he'd already passed on, quick and easy, and this was the afterlife; perhaps when his sight came back, he'd find himself spread-eagled on an endless sea of grass, his grandfather waiting to greet him with open arms and a wide smile.

He wasn't ready for that, and in spite of the fact that they felt stuck shut, Izuku tried his hardest to force his eyes open.

They did, and to his surprise, he found the creature pulling back, pulling away, fear in its stained-yellow gaze; it still had a hold on his legs, and he was still on the verge of passing out, but Izuku retained enough of his mental faculties to register that he was burning.

"You," the sludge gurgled, baring its teeth. "What...are you?"

Izuku could only cough, struggling to pull himself free of his slimy shackles, and - sensing weakness - the creature began to creep forward once more, its apprehension trickling away even as golden flames licked at Izuku's sleeves and across his torso.

"Mmm...it doesn't matter. A fire Quirk...this will serve me well. Thanks, kid."

Izuku coughed again, reaching for one of its eyes with his palm alight. He didn't know what he was planning, but if he could do something, anything, to save himself -

"Texas - SMASH!"

And, in the blink of an eye, the sludge became a new coat of paint for the underpass. Stunned, Izuku could only stare, mouth agape, as the flames faded from his body and an absolute mountain of a man strode towards him from the other end of the underpass.

"Are you alright, young man?" his savior called, a comically undersized convenience store bag swinging from one massive hand and an empty two-liter soda bottle in the other. "Sorry I didn't get here sooner. I can't squeeze through the sewers like this fellow - but it's all right now. I am here!"

"All Might..." Izuku whispered, unable to believe what he was seeing. Exhausted as the attack had left him, his relief compounded with the sight that now met his eyes was enough to send him keeling over backwards, all the adrenaline having finally left his system.

"Young man!"

So, you're finally awake.

The method has been forgotten, but not lost.

Midoriya Izuku...can you hear us?

"Oh, you're awake. Thank goodness."

Izuku blinked and sat up, swivelling his head side to side. He'd been moved and now lay on a mostly-dry bench, a neon pink umbrella propped up over his face and upper body to keep the rain off. To his left, none other than Japan's number one hero crouched over the driest of Izuku's notebooks, holding a pen and bearing an expression of utmost concentration. "All Might?" Izuku prompted, still in a state of shock.

"That's me," the hero confirmed, getting to his feet. "And now that you are okay, I have to go. Keep to the main roads, alright, young man?"

"Wait!"

He hadn't intended to scream so desperately, but looking back, he would later be glad (for all the wrong reasons) that he allowed so much raw emotion to leak into his voice. All Might hesitated, glancing over his shoulder with a "hmm?" Suddenly speechless, Izuku fumbled his way through the mess in his head, searching for the words he needed to express just what it was he wanted to say.

"Were you always a hero?" he blurted out, then winced. No, that's stupid. Of course All Might wasn't always a hero - he was a kid once too. To his credit, the man laughed out loud, a booming, confident bellow quite unlike Izuku's shy chuckle.

"That depends on who you ask. Some say heroes are born, not made, and that certain people have something inside of them that others don't. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go take this fellow to the police station." He gave the two-liter bottle a little shake, and Izuku noticed two very familiar eyeballs sloshing around in the sludge within.

"Wait!" he shouted again, and even he could tell that his idol's patience was wearing thin. "I'm sorry - I know you're probably busy, but please, tell me - can I be a hero?"

All Might's smile, always so natural, faltered for a moment, and Izuku's heart sank. The hero placed the bottle down on top of a trash can and crossed his arms, regarding the middle schooler for a solid few seconds - then the grin returned in full force and he laughed out loud again. "Anyone can be a hero if they put their heart and soul into it!" came the reply Izuku had been hoping to hear for so long, and yet it didn't make him feel any better. "Even you, young man - work hard and follow your dreams! And with that - I'm off!"

And, as abruptly as he'd shown up, All Might was gone again, kicking off into the sky before Izuku had even registered that he'd left.

That...was the least sincere thing I've ever heard. I didn't even get to tell him I was Quirkless. Doesn't that change the circumstances a little?

Dissatisfied, but totally unable to do anything about it, Izuku sighed, planting his face in his hands. The notebook All Might had been holding was now gone, and another wave of disappointment rolled over him as he realized it was volume 18 of his hero notes. He'd been working hard on that one for several weeks now, and he hadn't studied it as he had the others. Great. Now I have to go dig up all that information again.

He decided to stop by the convenience store for a drink before heading home. Izuku wasn't typically one for energy drinks, but the attack had left him feeling drained, and the sugar at the very least would serve as enough of a pick-me-up to get him back into his own bed. It's Friday, anyway, he reasoned. I can stay up late tonight and sleep in tomorrow, and today'll just feel like a bad dream.

Twenty minutes after Midoriya Izuku was saved from a pile of sapient, homicidal slime by none other than All Might, Bakugou Katsuki and two of his classmates (he didn't deign to call them friends) passed through the same underpass where Izuku had been attacked and stumbled upon a two-liter soda bottle with a pair of eyeballs floating in it. The artifact rested atop a trash can, as if someone had meant to throw it away but hadn't for whatever reason, and before Katsuki could warn either of the other two that something seemed fishy, they'd already removed the cap and gone to dump it out.

"What is this stuff?"

"Gross. Get it away from me, I don't want that shit on my uniform."

"Look, there are eyes in it. What - "

"Get back!" Katsuki barked; he'd seen what they hadn't - sludgy tendrils teaching for their shoes - and barreled forward, propelling himself with his Quirk and sending his classmates sprawling.

"Yo, Bakugou-kun, what the hell?" one of them said. He didn't care enough to differentiate their voices, nor did he have the time to check, for the moment he'd stepped in the puddle of sludge, it had latched onto his leg. Within seconds, it had passed the knee, and when Katsuki turned to his companions for assistance, he found them paralyzed with fear, transfixed by the pair of yellow eyes staring greedily up at none other than Katsuki himself.

Anyone can be a hero, huh? That was a stupid question, anyway...I bet every fan he meets asks the same thing. I'm so dumb. I should have asked something more specific to elicit an answer he had to actually think about.

Izuku took a long swig of his drink and let out a sigh.

He'd elected to drink it on the way home rather than sit down, as the weather report on his phone showed the rain lasting into the next morning, and the last thing he needed today was to walk home in the dark as well as the rain. No, he would not be taking his time, and it was this decision that led him straight to a scene he'd be reliving in his nightmares for weeks to come.

Oh, another villain incident, he thought, spotting the crowd of civilian gawkers that typically accompanied the appearance of a Quirked criminal. Too bad All Might took my notebook...not that I could write in it in this rain. I'm definitely not letting go of this umbrella, either. The umbrella in question was, of course, the pink one All Might had left with him. The garish color didn't bother him; the hero had signed the underside of the canopy with a marker, and he wasn't going to turn down signed merchandise.

Drawing level with the back of the crowd, he knew immediately that there was no way he would get to see what was going on over the heads of the people in front of him. Cursing his tardy growth spurt, he skirted the onlookers until he spotted a girl a couple of inches shorter than him standing on tiptoe, peering through a gap in the wall of people. Izuku tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, his interest in villain attacks temporarily overriding his inability to talk to girls.

"Um...looks t' me like a villain's got a kid." She turned to face him as she spoke, looking him up and down. "Same uniform as you, actually. You know him?"

"I can't see."

"Here, take my spot."

She stepped aside, letting Izuku peer through the valley of sloping shoulders, and his heart skipped several beats - for there in the middle of the alleyway was the very same creature (villain? how can you call that thing human!?) that had attacked him not an hour prior.

"What the hell?" he breathed, an icy chill creeping up his spine. "But All Might captured it, right? What's it doing here?"

Then it turned, regarding the crowd with its evil gaze, and Izuku's heart skipped skipping a beat and went straight to stopped.

Kacchan.

He knew firsthand what his former friend and longtime bully was going through - he'd been through it himself recently enough to still taste the faint reek of sewage on his tongue, even after he'd washed his mouth out and had a drink. Unlike when it had attacked Izuku, however, the sludge appeared to be struggling, and the reason for this was obvious: Bakugou was fighting back, and hard. Explosions crackled and burst at his palms, keeping his hands and wrists free, and every few seconds, he'd manage to pull them away and claw at the slime covering his mouth and nose, giving himself time to breathe before the smothering sludge made its return.

Still...there's no way he can win, Izuku knew. He'll get tired eventually, and all that slime has to do is sit there and keep him restrained. Aren't there any heroes nearby? Why is nobody doing anything?

His answer came when the hero Death Arms barreled into view, hurling a powerful punch at the side of the slime; the blow was aimed to miss Bakugou while striking the villain, but it was completely ineffective. His black-and-yellow striped gauntlet sunk into the side of the thing, and a moment later, a translucent tentacle the width of a tree trunk slammed into the hero's midriff and sent him tumbling twenty feet down the pavement.

That...might be why.

"Just wait for backup!" shouted the hero Backdraft; Izuku couldn't see him, but he knew the man's voice from countless television broadcasts. "There's no point in fighting him with physical attacks!"

"But won't using a fire Quirk or something hurt the kid?" Death Arms called back, getting to his feet. Izuku felt a surge of respect for the man, who seemed only a little the worse for wear after taking a blow that could have killed a civilian.

That was when Bakugou turned his head and, through the crowd, made eye contact with Izuku, and for the latter, the world went silent.

"Hey, you okay, Kacchan?"

"Leave me alone, Deku!"

"Kacchan! What's wrong?"

"Nothing, you useless bastard!"

"Kacchan, you're bleeding."

"Piss off!"

You're too proud to admit it, Izuku realized. But you need help, don't you?

One foot took one step forward.

I can't just leave someone in need of help, even if it's Kacchan.

Izuku took another step, reaching up to pry the two people in front of him away from one another.

This is stupid.

He pushed through another few layers of people. None of them moved to stop him.

None of them are moving to help, either.

"Kid, what the hell are you doing?" someone snapped from his left, but he didn't so much as look at them.

I shouldn't be doing this...but I will, because there's no way I can just stand here and watch.

He broke through the front of the crowd and took off at a run.

"Hey!" Death Arms shouted. He lunged for Izuku, but the latter managed to dodge it. "Get back here! It's dangerous!"

"You'll die!" Backdraft added.

And so will Kacchan, if you don't do anything! he wanted to shout back, but he saved his breath. He knew he'd need it. You're not even trying that hard to stop me, are you? I've seen you guys on television - what are you doing? Why aren't you helping!?

"Deku! What the hell are you doing!?"

Bakugou, in the few seconds' breathing time he'd given himself, had chosen to yell instead of taking in as much air as possible, and even in his fear, his anger, his desperation, Izuku couldn't resist a manic sort of grin.

"You need help, don't you!?" he screamed back, darting sideways to avoid a sweeping strike from one of the sludge's tentacles.

"Oh, it's you again," the creature rumbled. "You missed your chance, kid, but I'll still kill you if that's what you really want."

Izuku ignored it. "Keep fighting, Kacchan!" he barked, mind racing a mile a minute. I did something to it earlier, right? Where did that fire come from? How did I draw that out? I was able to burn it - I need those flames again!

He dodged another blow, but he wasn't fast enough for the second, which came in right after the first and knocked his legs out from under him. With a grunt, Izuku slammed into the ground, but he wasn't going to let that stop him.

Come on - get up! You have to save him! You have to do something! he urged himself. Move!

Heat flared across his body, but even as he pushed himself to his feet, another attack came hurtling in from above, slamming into his head and upper back and hurling him back to the asphalt.

Come on…

He could see the beginnings of golden embers, kindling at his fingertips, but it was far too late now; the hit he'd just taken had definitely broken something. His jaw felt loose, and he'd bitten clean through his tongue. Blood oozed over his lower lip and dribbled down his chin.

Get up.

Another hit, before Izuku could even begin to push himself back to his feet. Something else cracked, and his entire body went numb in an instant.

Please…

The heat from seconds ago began to give way to a creeping, final cold. Yet another strike crushed his ribcage, punctured his lungs, and he coughed scarlet into the wet slush of gravel under his mouth. He could hear distant, horrified screams from the audience to this macabre theatre.

Slam.

Izuku's world went black.

Uraraka Ochako could only watch, horrified, as the boy who'd asked her what was happening mere moments prior was beaten into nothing more than a bloody, broken pulp.

More than one of the crowd had fled the scene, disgusted or terrified. These, she was certain, were reasonable responses, but the only thing Ochako herself could feel was a numb sort of disbelief. It was difficult to comprehend that someone she'd spoken to seconds ago could now be dead, and by such violent means.

How'd it happen so quick? was all she could think to ask. Why'd he go out there?

Unable to tear her eyes away from his lifeless body - or what remained of it - Ochako was one of the first people to notice that it had caught fire.

Even though it was pouring rain, his body burned, burned with an unnatural flame that grew to envelop every last bit of gore on the ground in an aureate inferno. The villain, noticing, shrunk back, but it was already far too late for him.

Midoriya Izuku's crumpled corpse erupted into a pillar of golden fire.

Izuku knew he had died. That in and of itself was contradictory: if you're dead, you won't know you died. So how do I know that?

Sound returned first. He could hear the crowd screaming again, though it was a different sort of scream from the horrified chorus that had accompanied his death. Somewhere underneath this cacophony, flames crackled.

Smell came second. Something was burning, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Here and there, Izuku caught a whiff of ammonia.

Touch came third. He was hot, so hot, his body was intact, and he felt better than he ever had. Something warm and dry, like thick sand, protected his face from the rough pavement beneath.

Sight came last. He saw light.

Pushing himself to his feet with an inhuman grace, Midoriya Izuku rose up from his own ashes.

He didn't know what was going on. He didn't know why he'd been given another shot. He didn't know why the roaring flames coating his entire body were a warm embrace rather than burning agony.

He did know that he could save the person in front of him.

What would have ordinarily been nothing more than a clumsy, lunging grab for Bakugou became a lightning-quick leap across the fifteen feet between Izuku and the sludge; with a monstrous bellow, the slime retreated, loosing its hold on the middle-schooler, and Izuku darted away to deposit Bakugou upon the sidewalk before the stunned heroes, gaze still trained on the villain.

You...can't be saved.

Izuku could feel that body and mind were no longer entirely his own to control. Countless hours of hero research had told him that some Quirks could indeed modify how their user thought and behaved - the hero Hound Dog came to mind - and so, if this was truly a Quirk, this loss of autonomy was not unheard-of.

Can't everyone be saved? he asked.

No, he replied.

His arm raised, five fingers outstretched to point at the sludge villain, and without even knowing what he was doing, Izuku sent forth a torrent of the same fire that coated his body from head to toe.

When the air finally cleared, all that remained of his killer was a pair of terrified yellow eyes.

In the crowd, Yagi Toshinori could only stare.

The villain, he was later relieved to hear, survived.

Even if he would have killed me and Kacchan, I don't want to sink to that level, he decided.

For his part, the flames went out a few minutes after Izuku's return to life, leaving a very ordinary and extremely tired middle-schooler standing alone in the middle of a rainy alleyway.

Half a dozen news stations wanted to interview him, but they were shoved out of the way by both the police and paramedics, the latter of whom rushed to check on Izuku and Bakugou. After a quick check-up, which determined both of them to be in perfect health, they were escorted into police cars with the assurances that neither of them were in trouble and that their parents would be informed of what had occurred.

This was not entirely accurate, however; Izuku was scolded by both Death Arms and Backdraft for "acting recklessly", and even the officer who drove him to the police station mentioned that what he'd done had put both himself and Bakugou in more danger.

Not a word on the fact that I saved him...but I'm registered as Quirkless, so I guess I understand, he thought to himself, gazing through the lattice of steel bars covering the cruiser's rear side window. I don't know what happened back there, but I definitely died, and if it wasn't for...whatever that was...I would have died in vain, huh?

The rest of the afternoon flew by in a blur of empty waiting rooms and questioning; in the end, he was thanked for his cooperation and let off with a warning about leaving things to heroes, then driven home by his mother. Midoriya Inko was, understandably, torn between sobbing relief that he was okay and raw, unbridled fury that he'd put himself in so much danger.

He did his best to keep her away from the evening news that night. The last thing his overworked mother needed was to see what had happened to him - even if they didn't show the footage of his brutal death, the fact that he'd unleashed some sort of terrifying latent power would still stress her out. Instead, he tried his best to stay cheerful throughout dinner, not once stopping to think that perhaps his mother had already been briefed on the incident by whichever officer had had to break the news to her.

Perhaps it was just him, but the katsudon she'd prepared tasted even better than usual.

The next morning, Izuku woke up both late and not of his own accord. Someone was knocking, politely but repeatedly, on the front door, and he shouted for them to "please wait a few minutes, I'm sorry for the inconvenience" as he rushed to change into clean clothes and brush his hair and teeth. When he finally appeared presentable, he ran for the door, yanking it open and throwing his head down in a bow.

"I'm sorry you had to wait so long!" he apologized, then straightened and immediately blanched. The person he'd kept waiting was none other than All Might himself, who wore a tan suit jacket and an expression that Izuku could only describe as sheepish. Pinched between his thumb and forefinger was Hero Notes for the Future, volume 18, and it was painfully clear that the hero had come to return it. "All Might…"

"Midoriya-shounen," All Might returned. "I'm glad to see you're okay."

"Uh...thank you," Izuku said, accepting his notebook. "I appreciate it, but...did you actually come all the way here yourself just to return this? You have secretaries and stuff who could have done that for you."

"I do," the hero acknowledged, dipping his head. "But you're correct - I did not simply come here to return your notebook."

Correct about what? All I did was ask a question, Izuku wanted to point out, but All Might hadn't finished talking.

"I came to offer my sincere apologies for yesterday."

"Wait, what?"

A deep sigh. "Midoriya-shounen...I took your notebook instead of the capture device containing the villain who attacked you and Bakugou-shounen."

"Capture device - you mean that soda bottle?" Izuku asked, scrunching up his face.

"Yes, that. I put it down to make a point and was in a hurry. The following incident wouldn't have happened at all if it were not for my negligence, and for that - " and here, the hulking figure standing before Izuku dropped to the ground, bowing so deeply that his forehead touched the front step " - I am truly and deeply sorry."

Izuku was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was low, quiet. "I didn't get to tell you yesterday that I'm Quirkless."

All Might didn't seem surprised. "I know. I checked the Quirk registry last night."

"You told me I could be a hero when you didn't even know that."

The hero didn't respond immediately, and Izuku was suddenly very, very afraid that he'd upset the man somehow. In an instant, he too kowtowed on his porch, forehead pressed to the doormat. "I'm sorry!" he yelped. "I didn't mean anything by that! Please forgive me!"

"Nonsense!" All Might shouted back. "I am the one who needs to be forgiven! I issued such thoughtless reassurance without knowing a single thing about you!"

"I wasted your time asking about it!"

"Not at all, Midoriya-shounen!"

All was silent for a couple of long seconds - then Izuku started to laugh. All Might followed suit, the two of them sitting up and cackling like madmen at eleven in the morning on a Saturday; by the time they'd stopped, the tension was gone.

"Honestly, though," Izuku huffed, out of breath. "I should have died yesterday. I thought I was going to."

"You ran in to save your friend not knowing that you had a latent Quirk?" All Might prompted, brow furrowing.

I wouldn't say friend...but there's no need to get hung up on the details. "Yes," he confirmed, nodding. "I didn't even know Quirks like that existed, but I haven't thought about it much since. I think I'm still in shock or something," he added, looking down at his open palms.

"That's a perfectly normal reaction to events such as yesterday's. It will pass with time," the hero reassured him. "But there are records of Quirks not manifesting until a very specific requirement is met, which may not happen until someone is well into adulthood. You've never died before, have you?"

Izuku stared. "I...don't think so."

All Might, sensing his error, blinked. "Ah. Yes. That does make sense." He cleared his throat, then fell silent, neither of them certain what to say until Izuku changed the subject.

"So, if I have a Quirk, could I be a hero?"

Here All Might hesitated, and Izuku knew the answer before he opened his mouth. "Not all Quirks are cut out for hero work," he admitted, scratching at the back of his head. "A Quirk that only activates when you die, and that only powers you up for a couple of minutes after that, is as good as being Quirkless ninety-nine percent of the time. I cannot simply say 'you can become a hero without power'."

Izuku gave a sad little smile. "I figured as much."

"However!" All Might interrupted, holding up one finger (which was, Izuku guessed, at least three times the size of his own - and he did not have small hands). "I did not come here only to return your notebook and apologize. Ah - may I come in? I would rather not be overheard from here on out."

"Oh - sure!" Izuku blurted out, scrambling to his feet and stepping aside to allow the hero inside. "Please - follow me and have a seat."

"I would rather not break your furniture," All Might chuckled. "I appreciate the offer, but I weigh - "

" - two hundred and fifty-five kilograms," Izuku finished. "I'm sorry. I was trying to be polite."

"...You've really done your research, huh?" the hero chuckled, and he realized belatedly that knowing a total stranger's weight offhand was just a little weird. "Anyway...I said I didn't want to be overheard, but to be frank, it's more that I don't want to be seen."

"Wait, what - "

Boom.

For a moment, Izuku thought there'd been some sort of explosion, and his mind shot through half a dozen different scenarios before he realized that the man had simply erupted in a noisy puff of steam. When it cleared, the person standing in All Might's place was gaunt, skinny, even emaciated - but he still had All Might's trademark hair and blue eyes. Horrified, Izuku could only gape like one of the koi he fed during lunch each day, and the man pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh.

"I figured you'd react like that," he groused. "But staying in that form really takes a toll on me, and if you accept my offer, we'll be spending a lot more time around each other than the three hours a day I can keep using my power."

"I - All Might?" was all Izuku could get out.

"Yes," the other said, fixing him with All Might's trademark blue-eyed gaze. "But please refer to me as Yagi Toshinori in this form, at least in public."

Izuku blinked stupidly a couple of times before he was able to speak. "I - All Might, what - ?"

In response, All Might lifted the corner of his suit jacket, exposing the nastiest scar Izuku had ever seen. "I received this five years ago," he explained, but before he could continue, Izuku kicked into overdrive.

"Wait, is that from your fight with Toxic Chainsaw? Or did you sustain that injury during the three-on-one fight with the Mie Marauders? If it limits how much you can use your Quirk without resting, did you start out in that weakened state, or did it happen over time?" Without even realizing it, he'd flipped open volume 18 and had his right hand poised to write despite his lack of a pen, and All Might chuckled.

"Slow down, Midoriya-shounen. First - no to both fights. The fight that led to this injury isn't public knowledge, and I would like to keep it that way. Second - my health has only gotten worse since then. The more I push myself, and the longer I hold onto this power, the less I'll be able to use it."

Izuku froze. "The longer you - hold onto your power?" he echoed.

A nod. "Correct. My Quirk...is not entirely my own."

"That doesn't make sense, though," Izuku frowned. "Everyone's Quirk is unique to them, right? Even two people who have basic fire-production Quirks never produce it in the exact same way - one person might do it by heating the air around them, while someone else might do it by naturally producing and igniting a flammable gas or liquid."

"That is true for most Quirks. I, however, received this power from another."

...That still doesn't make sense, Izuku wanted to say, but why would All Might of all people show up on his doorstep, turn into a skeleton of a man with sunken cheekbones and skinny arms, and tell him that his Quirk was passed on to him from someone else? As little as he wanted to believe it, this seemed a little elaborate to be a prank, and the fact that this All Might had been in possession of Izuku's notebook told him that it was, in fact, the All Might and not just someone with a disguise Quirk.

"Why are you telling me this?" he ultimately decided on asking. All Might gave a sharp, rueful little smile.

"I was watching yesterday, in this form, when you ran to save Bakugou-shounen. I'd already hit my limit for the day, and all I did was stand there. 'Don't push yourself,' I said, as if that made it any better. 'A hero will come.'" He scowled, looking altogether disgusted with himself. "You asked me if I'd always been a hero, but I wasn't one just then. The real hero there was a kid who thought himself Quirkless."

"All Might…" Izuku started, then stopped again, unsure what to say.

"I talked about what makes a hero and told you that you could become one without even putting my heart into those answers. I've given them so many times that they've lost all meaning. Seeing you throw yourself into that losing battle while I stood by helpless...I wondered if I might be to blame. I thought I might have gotten someone killed."

Izuku shook his head immediately. "No. I would have done that no matter what was on my mind at the time." A rueful smile of his own. "I started moving before I even knew what I was doing. It's only by sheer dumb luck that I happened to have a Quirk hiding up my sleeve after all."

"And that," All Might declared, "is why I've decided to pick you as my successor."

Wait, what? "Eh?" he bleated, more of a noise than a question.

"To be perfectly honest...it's also partially because of your Quirk," the hero went on, bowing his head. "If, in fact, anything were to happen to you, either during your training or later on in your career...I believe that it would inspire people to have a hero capable of rising from the ashes more powerful than before, if only for a couple of minutes." He glanced up at Izuku, nose still pointing at the floor. "I'm aware that it's a selfish request, and you should be aware that it is not one to accept lightly. I'll let you think it over until tomorrow evening, and - "

"Are you kidding?" Izuku interrupted, excitement starting to rise in his chest. "Why would I need to think it over at all? Of course I want to be your successor - isn't that every kid's dream?" This isn't real, is it? There's absolutely no way this can be real. I must have actually died yesterday and everything since has been a wild dream.

He pinched himself. As it turned out, he was not dreaming.

"I'm glad you're enthusiastic," All Might acknowledged. "Alright - meet up with me at Dagobah Municipal Beach tomorrow morning at five."

Izuku paled. "Wait, five in the morning?"

"Yes. I would say we can do it later, but I'd rather us not be seen. The police might start asking questions."

Hang on, what exactly are we going to be doing!?

"And what happens if I oversleep?" he asked bleakly.

"If you cannot even get up early for the sake of becoming a hero, then I don't see how you'll have the determination to overcome the other obstacles that will be thrown your way."

Reluctantly, then, Izuku agreed. "Okay. Five tomorrow morning."

There wasn't much more to discuss after that, and so within a couple of minutes, he found himself bidding All Might (once again looking healthy and muscular) farewell and sitting down at the kitchen table to eat leftover katsudon. Over and over again, one thought ran through his head.

What have I gotten myself into?