Author's Note: There's something of a lack of MHA fanfics here that don't completely rehash canon, so I'm setting out to change that. I'll give you a fair warning that these first few chapters can be grim, but there's more of light/dark tonal balance when we get to the academy chapters. Feel free to skip ahead if it's not working for you, though I'd advise circling back later so you have context for everything!

Fun fact for those of you that like to puzzle things out: this is a For Want of a Nail type story, and although it initially seems like there are two Nails at play here, there's actually only one.

MORNING STAR

Something was wrong.

Izuku knew it the moment the news chime woke him. He jerked upright and squinted at the light spilling from his phone. The white intensity made his eyes water; he had to glance away, shivering with uncertain dread.

December cold clung to his naked shoulders, deepening his shivers as he sat in the dark. The hero figurines on his desk and shelves were unfamiliar in the moonlight, watching him with dead eyes.

Stain killed the Silver Arrow last time I got an alert this late ...

Slowly, his eyes adjusted and his cellphone's brightness dissolved into rows of kanji and katakana. He scanned them, reading quickly, and with a bone-deep chill the last sliver of his sleepiness vanished.

All Might was missing.

The alert itself was a lone sentence – Might Tower confirms it has lost contact with #1 hero All Might for three days – but in a heartbeat he found active Twitter threads discussing the topic. They mirrored what Izuku felt within himself: worry, confusion, and the desperate need to know more.

He curled up beneath his blankets, skimming Twitter with increasing intensity, distantly aware of his own muttering. A statement from Might Tower claiming this wasn't unusual for pro-heroes, that they expected to hear from All Might before the end of the week. An insomniac journalist that had found five other instances of All Might going off the grid over the hero's career. Fans that had trawled the internet for All Might sightings and linked them to a crime report in Roppongi involving low-level villains.

All normal. No signs of emergency. No trace of anything amiss, save for the unease that coiled in Izuku's stomach.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Don't overthink it."

But he knew sleep wouldn't return tonight.

Izuku threw off his blankets and pulled on a ratty t-shirt. He stumbled over to his desk – wincing as he knocked over a misplaced All Might figurine – and flipped open his laptop. He had just begun reading about the known villains of Roppongi when he heard movement in the hall. The door creaked open, and a shadow fell over him. He looked up into the pale creases of his mom's face.

"Izuku? Why are you awake?"

"I – I don't know. I think something's happened to All Might."

He stepped away from his desk and hugged her to him. She hesitated, startled, before returning the hug. "Izuku?" she began, and then she stroked his hair, something she had not done for years.

"He's okay, right?" he said in a small voice. "Tell me he's not hurt."

She hugged him tighter. "It's All Might. You know how he is. He won't fail us, not when Japan needs him."

Izuku swallowed thickly, recognizing the lump gathering in his throat. Don't cry, he willed himself. Tears were childish, when tomorrow All Might would surely be giving a thumbs-up to cameras and smiling in a Santa hat and announcing his latest rescue. Yet still –

"You know how I arrived home late yesterday with frostnip and snow-coated clothes? I wasn't really studying in the library." He clenched her shirt in his fists, the words coming out faster. "I heard All Might had been sighted at Aldera Pond and I was hoping he'd show up again, so I waited there stupidly for hours while at the same time he could have – could have been walking into an ambush or bleeding out in a ditch!" He shuddered, and his next words were a muffled, "I'm so stupid."

"Shh. Please don't worry yourself sick, Izuku," his mom murmured. "We shouldn't be afraid, not as long as All Might is here. That's what you've always told me."

Izuku sniffled, and for a time they clung to each other in the dark. The whistle of a freight train echoed amid the winter night, forlorn. Then at last Inko Midoriya tilted his chin up to meet her gaze.

"I promise you it'll be all right."

And because his fourteen year-old self didn't know better, and because he wanted so badly to believe his mom's words, Izuku could never have been ready for what was to come.

–O–

Snowflakes whirled, wild and white, outside the frosted windows of the Midoriya household. It was a drear grey evening, but a quiet one – school was cancelled, and Izuku's routine of cowering from Kacchan's threats and the other students' jibing laughter had instead become a day curled up before the television. He sipped a mug of steaming hot chocolate as he watched the Daily Hero Bulletin.

"Coming up next, we have guest panelist and pro-hero Ingenium to discuss All Might's eight day AWOL. Is it true that Endeavor was sent to Roppongi, and if so are the hero agencies more concerned than they let on? Find out when we –"

The screen went black.

Izuku blinked, rubbing red-rimmed eyes. Slowly drifting out of his television-induced haze, he turned from the screen to frown at his mom.

The green-haired woman stood in the kitchen entryway, beneath hanging paper snowflakes that Izuku had crafted in school. Her lips were pursed in determination, and she clenched the remote tightly.

"I don't want to go play outside, Mom."

Inko Midoriya put her hands on her hips. "It's snowing! All the other boys are building snowmen and having snowball fights. It's not healthy for you to be cooped up in here watching the news all day."

And if I tried to join in, that snowball fight would become seven-against-one.

He didn't voice the thought. Maybe if Kacchan hadn't mocked his lack of a Quirk, maybe if he hadn't attracted admirers and sycophants and lackeys that followed his example, the old wound would have scabbed over. But it hadn't. Easier not to say the words – those neighborhood boys say Quirkless is a sugarcoated word for worthless – than to see the familiar shimmer in his mom's eyes as she tried not to tear up with guilt.

His thoughts returned to All Might, and he felt a knot in his throat. The pro-hero never missed a chance to beam at interviewers and proclaim that anyone had the potential to be a hero. Unlike Uwabami who said heroes needed to be photogenic, or Endeavor who glared and insisted powerful Quirks were a necessity, All Might, the number one hero, believed anyone could follow in his footsteps. Maybe even someone without a Quirk. Even someone with no charisma, and no friends.

Even Izuku.

All Might ... Where are you?

He swallowed and stared down at the carpet. "I can't go out. Not when All Might's still missing. What if – what if something happens?"

"I do wish I could make all this easier on you. It's why I've let you watched the news for as many hours as you have." Inko sighed and shook her head. "But you need a break. I won't force you to play with the neighbors, but you will get some fresh air. I have a package I need you to deliver to the post office."

Izuku glanced at the television's dark screen. The post office was on the other side of the city. He wouldn't be getting there and back in under an hour, not with rush hour commuters and holiday shoppers crowding the subways. Still, if he hurried he could catch the upcoming NKT interview with Endeavor on the investigation behind All Might's disappearance. That alone would be worth getting his TV privileges restored as soon as he could.

"I'll be back in a flash!" he said, running for the coat closet.

It wasn't long before he was trudging through the snow parallel to ice-slicked sidewalks, his red scarf fluttering in the wind as he blended with the evening street activity. Winter dark had deepened the shadows of the city's alleys and eaves, but on the main thoroughfare blue-and-silver string lights glowed from skeletal trees, illuminating passerby.

If Twitter and television were plunged into a media storm over All Might's disappearance, it wasn't visible here. Izuku was startled by how peaceful it felt to be one among the crowd, couldn't help but smile at the stray snowman clad in a cape, at the snowflakes that glittered in the night, at the laughter and clink of glasses from nearby restaurants.

He inhaled deeply, the frigid air in his lungs another reminder that there was a world outside stiff news anchors and hysterical headlines. The tense anxiety that coiled in his stomach was still there, but less tightly wound than it'd been before. On a night like this, it was hard to believe tomorrow wouldn't bring brighter tidings.

He followed the shuffle of the crowd down the subway steps, jostled by the throng of commuters taller and heavier than him. Suited men with briefcases and women in woolen peacoats. American tourists in All Might caps staring at the subway map with incomprehension – they always did – and a glowing blue woman. Izuku's fingers twitched for the notebook he didn't have, pondering the possible advantages of bioluminescence Quirks as he wound his way through the station.

He hopped on a second escalator. Down the levels he went, to the dim crowds of Platform Five, where there were no winds to carry stray snowflakes. With each step the mob of businessmen and shopping bags thickened, until he was swallowed in a teeming wall of people. Izuku faltered, lost in the din, but kept nudging and elbowing his way towards the tracks.

He had almost reached the edge of the platform when someone slammed into his side. Izuku yelped and stumbled forward. Grasped at empty air for balance. His feet slipped beneath him, and he crashed to the tiles in a sprawling heap. Commuters stepped past while he lay there, bruised and stunned. Scrapes stung on his palms but there was no blood. And the culprit had vanished.

Izuku groaned and stumbled back to his feet. Rush hour in Tokyo's Greater Metropolitan Area was infamously terrible, but the chaos of people around him was insane. The trains were supposed to be an experiment in shoving as many humans into cans as possible, not the platforms!

He spotted an overhead sign, edging to the right of the man in front of him so he could read its scrolling letters. Trains slowed to every half hour due to ice on tracks. Next arrival: 4 minutes.

Delays. Crap.

Izuku sighed and craned his neck to glance around him. At least this was a decent opportunity for Quirk spotting. White swan wings blurred at the edge of his peripheral vision and he pivoted, trying to –

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket. Hundreds echoed it.

Izuku throat went dry. People surrounding him slowed; the crowd came to a standstill. In the sudden hush that fell over Platform Five he could hear the puff of his own breath.

Hundreds motionless. Hundreds staring at their cellphones with frozen expressions.

And that was when he knew.

Izuku felt his heart tighten, squeezing the air from his lungs. Icy sweat dripped down his brow and blood roared in his ears. His trembling fingers fumbled for his phone. Some isolated part of him realized he should breathe, should sit down first, but his building panic couldn't be stopped.

He knew, but he had to see.

On the third attempt he typed his PIN without mistakes. The lurid headline filled his screen:

Symbol of Peace Killed by Unknown Villain; All Might's Body "in No State" to be Seen by Public

Izuku stared.

Distantly he could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate. He wanted to stay composed and not break down, but nevertheless his heart was speeding up.

Memories rose to seize him. He could still remember the Father's Day card he'd crafted for All Might when he was ten and hadn't seen his real dad in years, could still remember Kacchan's mocking laughter.

Beside Izuku a woman collapsed to her knees, babbling hysterical nonsense.

He remembered hours spent on the hillsides of Eiyuu Park, fireflies winking in the summer nights, staring awestruck at the glittering tower of UA Academy. Daydreaming of walking its halls as All Might had before him and becoming a hero-in-training that could laugh off his bullies and protect hurt civilians and someday shake the hand of the number one hero and hear the words, "I'm proud of you."

Izuku was so gripped in memories that he missed the first uneasy murmurs that rippled through the crowd. People were dialing loved ones and parents were hugging their children. A toddler started wailing. Several more joined in.

No one expected the businessman to suddenly burst into flames. Screams echoed up as the fire spread, racing along jackets and shopping bags. Izuku stared dumbly at the embers floating above the crowd.

It was only a wild Quirk – the half-second mistake of a man in distress. It should have been handled calmly. It should have been zero concern.

But sanity snapped.

Chaos erupted all around. People bolted, thrashing and kicking in a desperate attempt to escape the subway station. The crowd roiled, and on the escalator people shrieked and gripped the rails to avoid plummeting off the edge. Everyone drowning in panic. Izuku's ears rang from the rising screams and sobs.

He was shaking, and he couldn't make himself stop.

Static on the intercom. A recording began to repeat itself: "Ochitsuite kudasai. Please remain calm. Ochitsuite kudasai. Please remain calm." It blended with the noisy pandemonium.

Izuku let out a choked laugh. Wiped his eyes on his sleeve and stumbled through the buffeting crowd. The train was approaching – he could hear its distant rattle – and he needed to be closer to the platform's edge when it arrived. Otherwise he didn't know if he could escape the stampede, not when his mind was a numb haze. He glanced up at the faces of the people churning all around him, their pupils blown with panic.

Wondered if he looked the same.

He darted toward a gap in the crowd as the pinprick of subway headlights appeared in the darkness. Somewhere behind him, others shouted at its approach. A hand shot out from the throng, grabbing his wrist and yanking him. Izuku tugged free but more people were pressing in. He shied away, fending off kicks and shoves, the blind savagery of those determined to board the train. Someone shoulder-checked him, and he stumbled forward, tripping on –

Izuku stopped. Windmilling at the precipice. The tracks gleamed cold steel beneath. Tugged at him. He tried to step back.

A final shove sent him off the edge.

Gravity yanked him down. He twisted in the free-fall, scarf whipping through the air. Smashed into the train tracks with a sickening thwack. Teeth bit down on his tongue. Reflexively he tried to struggle to his feet and then his leg exploded with pain. A white hot lance of agony shot straight to his stomach.

He collapsed onto the freezing rails once more, gasping profanities he'd heard from Kacchan.

The subway train was roaring, hurtling towards him; the tracks trembled with its fury. From the platform, it seemed much slower. Now, up close, it was horribly fast. A thundering silver monster that was too dizzying to watch. Wind ruffled him, soon to become a blast.

Heart pounding, he risked a glance at his leg. Immediately he wanted to retch. Torn jeans. Veiny gaping flesh. The white jut of bone. He cast his eyes downward to get away from the sight. Bright red drops dripped from his tongue.

I'm getting blood on the tracks, Izuku thought inanely, and then he was rolling over, his leg blossoming with renewed pain, fighting the steel rivets that had shredded and snagged his jacket, scrabbling forward light-headed while the tracks shook beneath him. He was too slow and the train was too fast. He dragged himself forward with his arms, blinded by the pain, clawing, aching for a way to pull himself to safety. Metal wheels shrieked against the rails. His broken leg refused to bend. He could feel himself screaming.

More screaming rose from the platform. Some poor schoolgirls had spotted him but were too caught in the roiling crowds to reach him in time. Their frenzied shouting incited more panic and stampeding, accompanied by shattering glass.

He was dying. Izuku squinted against the bright blurry headlights. The train streaked toward him in a blur, only ten meters left now, and he felt the roaring rattle in his bones, the screeching wind whipping at his face, watering his eyes with tears. Off in the distance, the screaming continued, sounding like a war. He should be glad he wouldn't be around to see it.

But despite it all a blazing desire to survive – All Might deserves better – remained. And a strange, coiling heat in his gut that he wasn't sure was pain reflex or hallucination. He raised his hands in a futile defense against the oncoming train, a bloody grimace crossing his features. The heat intensified, throbbing now, and it couldn't be a hallucination, so all-consuming he could no longer feel his broken leg, building and building until –

Bright blossoming agony. The spotty edge of consciousness and the sensation of a single sinew in him that hadn't yet snapped. Izuku mentally reached for it and tore with a scream.

His sudden breathlessness hit him like a stab in the gut.

Izuku gasped –

– and then his senses expanded, exploded, becoming so intense that for a brief, false moment he thought he felt every tremor and particle and melting snowflake in the air before him. He shuddered, willing the train to stop, anything so he wouldn't become a black-and-red smear on the rails.

Shimmering streaks of light appeared before Izuku's raised arms. They crystallized into a translucent wall, glowing with cold green fire from within. Izuku could only blink numbly in the ethereal radiance.

But blinding headlights filled his vision. The train crashed full-force into the shimmering air. Kafwooom-schhhreee! An incandescent spray of sparks. He knelt there, shell-shocked, as the train crumpled like aluminum. Metal shrieked and groaned. Glass shards glittered in the air. Wind scoured outward, splattering everyone in Platform Five with condensation save Izuku. He reached out to touch the crystalline wall, dazed by the water droplets glistening on its surface, the smoldering wreckage beyond it, but he was too tired. Red and blue and gold pulses spotted his vision.

The wall disintegrated. Glimmering dust drifting on the wind.

And Izuku couldn't breathe.

His blood was on fire. His lungs burned. His limbs crumpled beneath him and his head drooped onto the rails. Nausea swept over him and every breath was like inhaling knives. He could hardly keep his eyes open with the fire that burned within.

I'm alive, he thought.

I'm alive.

But how?

Streams of police officers stormed past in his peripheral vision. A grey-haired policewoman jumped onto the tracks. He reached out and brushed her ankle with his fingers. The woman recoiled in surprise – she must have assumed he was dead. He was trembling and his vision was blurred. Everyone was staring.

Hands seized him. Voices exclaimed and shook his shoulder. Checked his pulse. Then the police officers were all around, shouting and questioning him.

Their words washed over him. He couldn't understand any of it. It was all just sounds, dark and dizzy gibberish. Izuku tried to focus, but the people seemed so small and far away. And still he couldn't breathe ...

The intercom was all he could hear, words repeating to infinity. "Ochitsuite kudasai. Please remain calm."

Darkness swallowed him.

–O–

Morning. Lonely and dark.

Izuku woke on the starched sheets of a hospital bed with no recollection of how he got there. Arctic cold stole through his paper-thin gown, and his legs were wrapped in bandages, yet he felt only numbness. He twitched his left leg and waited for a spasm of pain. Nothing. The tang of oxycodone lingering in his mouth, and the prick on his wrist from a vanished IV were the only traces he'd ever been injured.

He huddled there in the shadows of his room, half expecting a doctor or nurse to materialize from nowhere. Wind howled. A distant door slammed shut. The silence was comatose thick.

Standing shakily, he padded barefoot towards the window. Watched the whirl of snow beyond as his breath steadied out. There was something hypnotic about snowstorms.

But behind Izuku's eyelids memories lurked. They were a distorted haze, muted save for surreally vivid flashes. Iridescent raindrops on a glassy barrier. A subway train hurtling out of the darkness. The news article on his phone, headline unreadable in his shaking hands. He could only grasp one thing. The rest – the rest was too much.

All Might was dead.

It was an unparsable thought, a blank mental wall from which he could derive no meaning. It wasn't something he could analyze, wasn't a hero-fact he could scribble down in Hero Analysis for the Future No. 13. It was just a sick refrain in the shadows of his mind: dead, dead, dead.

Izuku never had the chance to ask All Might his question. The question he was too scared to ask Kacchan or his teachers or Mom. But maybe All Might, who believed in people, would –

No. He was dead.

There would be no answers.

The click-click of heels echoed from the hall corridor, shaking Izuku from his reverie. He stared hollow-eyed as a yawning woman strolled in the door, tired but looking pleased with herself. Platinum blonde hair swished as she walked. She couldn't be a nurse: her fluffy purple parka was too stylish, and her demeanor was too relaxed. But Izuku suspected she wasn't a civilian either.

"Wow, my bad. I meant to be here when you woke up, but the hospital's pastries are surprisingly tasty." She dug a smushed cranberry scone out of her pocket, wrapped in cellophane. "Want one?"

Izuku tensed. Took a step backward.

Her self-satisfied smile faded. "Thought so. But I was hoping this would go easier for both of us." She sighed and flopped down on the hospital bed. Blew on a puff of platinum hair. "Sorry in advance, but I seriously don't know what I'm doing. I'm not trained for this – I've not even got a decent Quirk for it. The Hero Network's a mess right now."

Shivering in a window draft, Izuku crossed his arms. He wished the world would slow down. He hadn't – he still hadn't shed a tear. And yet reality kept crashing down without a minute to think.

"What?" His voice was thick. He cleared his throat. "Who are you?"

"I'm Yu Takeyama. Though as of yesterday I'm also the pro-hero Mt. Lady. It's strange. I wasn't supposed to debut until this spring, but after everything that ..." her voice wavered "... happened, things accelerated so fast." She exhaled. "Call me Yu. I've never cared for formalities, and I'm really glad I didn't have to meet you as a smear on the tracks yesterday. It would've made a bad first day even worse."

Izuku swallowed. His head felt fuzzy. "I – I don't understand. Why is a pro-hero in my room? Where's my mom?"

A shadow crossed Yu's face. "I've been posted here to ensure you don't hurt anyone, or yourself. Your Quirk stopped 500 tons of hurtling metal, and well ... it's not unusual for late bloomers to have manic breakdowns." She looked down and cleared her throat. "I wouldn't blame you, personally."

What?

"No, that c-can't be true. I know it's not." Izuku trembled. "I've been Quirkless all my life. Whoever told you otherwise was lying or mistaken. It's f-fricking stupid to think I could stop a subway train!"

His vision swam. Izuku gripped the windowsill to steady himself. This can't be real, this can't be real, thiscan'tbereal –

"The doctors are reviewing your blood results to confirm," Yu said. "Your mom wanted me to tell you that she loves you, and that she'll be with you as soon as the hospital permits it."

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut. Every since he was a child, he'd known there were two undeniable facts of life: he was a Quirkless nobody, and All Might always won. A dark December day couldn't obliterate both like it was nothing. It wasn't fair. Being an All Might fanboy, hating his own Quirklessness, that was him. Strip it away and how much of Izuku Midoriya was left? He felt naked cold.

"You okay?"

He realized he'd somehow ended up huddled on the floor, hugging his knees. Breathing. Staring intensely at nothing.

"Midoriya?"

He took a deep shuddering breath, and his eyes found focus on Yu. "I'm ... fine." He stood on unsteady legs and stumbled over to the hospital bed. Yu sat next to him. He let her put an arm over his shoulder.

He said he was fine, but he felt like crying. He stared ahead numbly. A column of snow blew past the window. Snowflakes whipped against the clouded glass.

Yu was glancing at him, eyes full of concern. "It's not just the Quirk that's bothering you, is it?" She turned away to stare out at the blizzard. "I miss him too."

"I never wanted a Quirk this way. I just wish yesterday wasn't real," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I wasn't doing it for attention, to think I h-hurt people in a time of –"

"Don't. Don't apologize for things out of your control. Everything that happened, every injured person from that train, the crime spike that all Japan now faces, is the fault of that bastard that killed All Might. Don't you dare repent on his behalf. Got it?" Yu said. Her voice cracked.

Izuku stared down at his hands. Swallowed. I never imagined I'd injure others with my own Quirk. But ...

"Is the villain ... still out there?"

Yu's grip on his shoulder tightened. But she said nothing.

"Please," he whispered.

"I'm a shitty liar, so I won't sugarcoat it," she said at last. "The official story is that All Might's killer was an unknown villain that died alongside him. But to me that narrative sounds too clean. I don't know, even if I trusted the bastard was dead, I wouldn't believe he was working alone." She stared up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. "It'd take more than one common criminal to kill the Symbol of Peace, yeah?"

And for the first time he could remember, Izuku didn't want to hear more. He had no follow-up questions. No half-concocted theories or rambled mutterings. He could only shudder and press his face into her shoulder.

He'd heard what mattered.

"It'll still be a few hours before the doctors have your results," Yu said quietly. "I'm not supposed to leave you by yourself, but is there anything you'd want me to do? I could tell you stories about studying abroad in Paris, or I could let you sleep, or we could watch videos on my phone ..."

Izuku shook his head. "I just need quiet. Words are no good."

Listlessly, he stared out the window as dawn suffused the blizzard in a pink glow and snowflakes continued their dance on the wind. Ice crystals on the glass glittered with their own frigid light. He remained motionless for a long time.

But still he couldn't cry.

–O–

The cold hit Izuku, icy and sharp, as he stepped out the hospital doors, the shock of it waking him to the truth of his situation. Sitting in a hospital bed with a bag-eyed policeman taking his statement, nurses poking him and jotting notes, had been so outside his experience that it seemed a mute nightmare. Out here in the freezing snow bitter reality regained its hold. He could see little but the back of his mom hunched ahead of him, and to either side, almost lost in the snowstorm, the grey shapes of the coughing and sickly huddled in their winter coats. Snowflakes burned his arms where the fall had skinned them. He shivered and doubled his speed to catch up to his mom.

The tail lights of her dented Toyota Aqua flashed red in the parking lot, buried in snow. Inko hated to drive but didn't have the heart to rid herself of the car when his dad went missing. Nowadays Izuku only saw it in emergencies.

He helped her wipe snow off the windshield and felt solaced, somehow, but its soaking cold touch. It reminded him there was more to the world than numbness.

They got in the car. His mom's hand shook too hard to put the key in the ignition. "Shit," she whispered. Izuku steadied her hand and guided the key in. His mom rested her forehead on the steering wheel.

"I'm okay, Mom," he said.

Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

The drive home was somber. Izuku normally liked to tinker with the radio dial, but he knew there would be more newscasts than music on today. Instead he slumped against his seat and stared at the passing scenery. The Christmas trees in residential windows, gleaming with red-and-gold baubles. Grim men in parkas shoveling driveways. Traffic driving at a crawl through the snow-fog. The click of the turn signal was rhythmic in the quiet.

Izuku ducked his head as they passed the Bakugou residence. He could see Kacchan on the sidewalk, his palms searing with white heat as he snarled at Masaru Bakugou. Izuku cringed and remembered how it felt to cower helpless against those explosions. The mocking laughter of his classmates. Kacchan's twisted sneer as he told Izuku to piss off. Would life be different if he knew Izuku had a Quirk?

Izuku dug his nails into his palms. No, that would just flare his ex-friend's temper. Like everything he tried.

By the time Izuku was unbuttoning his jacket in the foyer, he was dizzy from a cocktail of exhaustion and low blood sugar. He stumbled to the couch and sagged into it with a sigh. Listened to his mom light the stove in the kitchen. There was still so much unknown to him – the identity of All Might's killer, the nature of his own Quirk – but for now the familiarity relaxed his muscles.

Two days of unread Asahi Shimbun were piled on the coffee table.

He flipped through them until he saw his middle school portrait on the eleventh page of this morning's paper. He was a brief footnote in a story about Yu. The headline read: Pro-Hero Mt. Lady Makes Debut Amid Musutafu Subway Panic. Is the Next Generation Ready to Carry on All Might's Legacy?

Izuku's hands trembled as he skimmed it. The article claimed Yu had rescued him from the train, the logistics of how a seventy foot woman would fit on a crowded subway platform left necessarily vague. He remembered how she had slipped him an autographed get-well card. Waved him goodbye with a watery smile. What burdens did she shoulder, debuting in the shadows cast by the fallen Symbol of Peace? He moved on to the next section of the newspaper. It was splashed with photographs of All Might throughout his career.

No. Not just the next section. The obituary.

The words blurred on the page. He tore it, crumpling the paper up and letting it flutter to the floor.

"Izuku?" his mom called from the kitchen.

He swallowed, willing his throat not to close up. Not now. Just a few more minutes and you can fall apart in your bed. He exhaled slowly. "Why isn't Katsuki in school?"

"It's been cancelled for the remainder of the week. With the ... sudden crime spike, and blizzards predicted to last into the weekend, the school district decided it would be wisest to take a break."

He shuffled to the hall. Maybe all the schoolboard members hoped things would get better if they waited. But the Golden Age was over, and All Might wasn't coming back. None of them could escape the darkening clouds over Japan.

"I'm going to bed," he called. "I'm not hungry."

He didn't wait for her response, disappearing into his room and locking the door. Froze at the sight of the All Might: Age of Heroes! edition poster on his wall. The laptop screensaver of All Might rescuing a beagle. The Small Might collectible figurines adorning his desk and shelves. Their smiles seemed suddenly grotesque.

"Fuck," he whispered.

He grabbed a strewn notebook and hurtled it at his desk. The lamp teetered and shattered on the floor. But the little All Mights were still smiling at him. He crawled onto his bed and hugged his knees. His head was pounding. He took ragged gasps, heaving with dry sobs.

Now it was time to give in to grief.

But the tears wouldn't come. Grief was an act of resolution, something he couldn't yet feel. He clutched the stuffed dragon his dad had bought him at Oumagadoki Zoo just before he vanished, and stared out the window. But nothing happened. Perhaps because there was a little thing left unfinished, a vow of reckoning first whispered by a younger Izuku, the kind that could seal off emotion until its end.

So he held his stuffed dragon while the blizzard darkened, crystallizing the snow into moors of ice. In time a fragile calm settled over him.

Deep enough he slipped into dreams.

... I don't hate All Might. He's a great character, but his death leads to so many interesting canon divergences. It's a sad necessity.

I'd also like to note that Izuku's Quirk is far more versatile than we see in this chapter. You'll find out more in Chapter Two; I didn't want to overwhelm you guys with too much right out the gate.

One of the things I'm looking forward to is utilizing the ripple effect to upgrade the story relevance of a few characters. Mt. Lady is just the first example. Who's your favorite underrated character? 90% of the MHA cast is stellar, and I want to do my best to give them all justice.

Til next time!