Chapter Text
Chapter One: A push in the right direction.
---
Izuku raced down another of the endless hallways, his breathing heavy, legs burning. As his feet pushed through the haze of exhaustion, continuing to carry him forward, twisting and turning around tight corners, sprinting this way and that in a frazzled dash towards some unknown exit, some desperate hope of safety.
The soles of his clunky red boots echoed against stagnant air, filling the desolate halls with quiet sound. Slowing to a stop as his feet tripped in the darkness, losing their balance because of the uneven ground. A set of stairs. That was new. Waiting for the thumping of his heart to calm, Izuku slowly traced along the bottom step, searching for the end of the bottom stair. Surprisingly, after having walked along tracing his foot every so often on the bottom step for a good few minutes he’d yet to find an end or a wall for that matter. Well, there went that theory, all the rooms in the building had well and truly been warped beyond his comprehension. Sighing tiredly, having already resigned himself to the loss of most of his energy. Turning his gaze upwards, he started up the vast set of stairs.
Tossing his gaudy yellow school bag up the last few steps, heaving as he pulled the rest of himself up with it. Laying down on the hard wooden flooring for a hot minute. Strangled huffs evidence of his sheer unpreparedness for such harsh physical exertion. He’d severely underestimated how well he could handle those stairs; though, on a good day, they still remained a common enemy of Izuku’s day-to-day (and of anyone’s really, fuck you stairs).
After a time, catching fleeting moments, Izuku hauled himself to his feet once again; trying his best to ignore the loud protests of his joints and the aching of unknown, unused muscles. Now that he was standing upright, he had a proper look around at his surroundings. Those stairs must’ve taken him higher than he thought, he was pretty sure he was in one of the most elevated areas in the museum, and with the building layout enhanced to a ‘T’ just meant better news for him.
Izuku sighed at his luck, energy well and truly dissolved for now (not even enough for a half-assed cheer, how depressing). So he settled for setting up camp on the top of the stairs. With one more swipe of his phone’s torchlight against the darkness further out beyond and one last survey of the area with his mediocre senses. With the all-clear Izuku finally let himself have a proper moment to relax, literal hours of constant physically bombarding his body hitting his body full front once again. Closing his eyes, he settled himself, shifting softly on his worn black school jacket. Just where had things started to go so wrong...
---
Something was off, Izuku knew.
All-day he had been stuck in this reverie, one continuous bad feeling, the thing was… he didn’t know what the focus of that bad feeling was.
Whether it was something as minor as another falsely flunked test, or Katsuki (he had long since ridden himself of the name ‘Kachaan’, the boy, the bully in front of him was no longer his best friend, though he still held a small glimmer of hope - if only out of respect for those memories of who the used to be) and his band of followers deciding to remind him, yet again of his utter inferiority. Or, if this was actually something more than major…
But, as mentioned, Izuku had no idea of the future so his best bet would be to remain as vigilant as possible. Not that it was difficult, mind you. One wouldn’t live life as hard as his without something to show for it.
(Small bursts of painful fire… burning, etching, marking him, spattered across his skin without care, memories of uselessness, how pathetic he felt under that sharp, terrible grin. Those piercing, ruby eyes. He could never forget, would forget. For he was branded with these scars for life….)
And for now, his constant paranoia came into play, helpfully… finally.
But, to his luck, of course, the world would have something against the quirkless scum, as today was the only deviation from his usual schedule. As he said, just to his luck...
His school had organized a trip to the museum, for all students across his year group. Put forward as a last hurrah for the senior middle school students, even though it was the middle of the year, (and an encouraging experience presented by the more… affluent parents) the trip was supposedly something to look forward to, even if it was a museum of all things.
And that trip was today (the future’s looking quite grim).
---
Izuku gazed up at the building in front of him, grey against the cloudy skies. Tall and imposing, with steepled concrete stairs leading up to the entrance. Izuku huffed to himself, following the crowd of excited young faces towards the inside. Wondering in quiet awe of his newfound surroundings, for a moment loosening his hold on his paranoia.
Stepping through the rotating doors, out into the Museum foyer. Following the flow of the crowd, around as the teachers addressed the crowd of buzzy, excitable middle school students. Midoriya Izuku included.
The quick briefing from the supervisors tempered out, letting the students start their exploration.
Of course, his happiness, no matter how little, was a no-go in one Bakugou Katsuki’s book.
Any hope of his anger towards him being tempered by either the crowd of students or the supervisors was unfounded, as he sighed, body tensing in unconscious preparation of the onslaught. “DEKU, WHERE’S YOUR SORRY ASS”, Katsuki’s loud shouts carry over the hushed chatter, slowly parting the crowd towards the only known ‘quirkless freak’ in the whole school.
This was a normalized predicament among all those in Aldera Middle School, everyone numb to the screams of the spiky-haired individual. Unbothered, uncaring, and downright blind-eyed towards what they had already dubbed something not worth the time. As were quirkless individuals treated in this new and ‘improved’ age. Thanks, human nature.
Izuku, as he knew, had to get away. Quickly.
Green eyes scanned the gaps in the crowd, quickly creating a pathway away from certain harassment. Using his small stature to his advantage, Izuku tucked his worn, yellow school bag to his chest. Making a run for it wasn’t the most heroic of actions in Izuku’s opinion but it was, he knew, what would be the most optimal for his situation. Ducking, weaving, and dodging bodies, bags, and/or insults all the while mumbling apologies to those around him, Izuku snuck out of the program past his stressed teachers, heading toward a sign of what he thought was the bathroom.
Cheering internally, Izuku sank to the floor of one of the bathroom stalls, setting his phone's timer on for a good 20 minutes. Laying out his fraying school jacket on the dirty floor to sit on, being mindful of all the weak stitches currently holding the poor thing together. With his yellow bag at his side, notebook in his lap, and phone in his pocket, this was enough for him. It might not be the best of what could have happened, sitting on the floor of a museum bathroom stall ignoring the tour he had to scrounge up enough money to pay for.
But still, it was better than what could have happened. (Katsuki raged as he tried to find the one person he thought undeserving of this certain happiness.)
As he neared the end of his count, three pages full to the brim with his wonderings on anything and everything (he’d long since grown from doing just Hero Analysis’). An alarm sounded out, throughout the whole building (including the bathroom).
Once,
Twice,
And a third,
Izuku gasped in realization, as that was a warning for a villain attack.
(He knew something bad was going to happen but he didn't mean to jinx it that hard.)
---
It’d been about half an hour since the alarm had rung, Izuku debated how he should move forward, trying his hardest to keep from crying. Here he was, alone (again) without any way to protect himself and no-one notified of his absence (not that they’d care, not that anyone does that in the first place...) He was alone in this situation...
Deciding not to dwell on his dwindling supply of hope. He had decided to find the exit.
Followed by a quick slap to his cheeks, he picked himself of the floor, taking a mental check of his possessions, despairing yet again on his lack of everything useful in this situation, he didn’t even have a water bottle with him; which was going to suck if he’d be running from anything.
Gathering his wits, he opened the stall door, bag secured against his back, jacket tied around his waist, checking himself in the mirror as mentally prepared for whatever would be outside his small, makeshift haven. Strengthening his wits, his resolve as he clutched the doorknob, pushing the door open.
Into the unknown.
---
Overall he’d been doing quite well this past hour or so. Even as he traversed the newly darkened hallways, slightly offset by the glow of his phone’s torch.
He felt good, nothing bad had happened yet and he didn’t think he was walking around in circles so he felt that that was a good sign, but… he knew, anything good in his life was just a bad thing in disguise. Arguably a cynical perspective however he had his reasons. And now… it was merely a waiting game, for the other shoe to drop.
And then... Something happened.
---
Another person, hysterical, afraid, fearful, ran into him.
They both landed on the floor in a mess of tangled limbs.
The phone, his only source of light, slid across the floor, just out of his reach.
The assailant screaming, garbled words of a monster… a hunter, its purpose - to kill them all.
Screaming, sobs, shock… a middle-aged woman reduced to a blubbering mess. “Excuse me, miss, hello. If you would just move off of me… please.” Izuku tried, but his words didn’t seem to be working on her. Waiting a moment for the hysterics to cry down, groaning internally, Izuku tried again - this time starting off with something a bit more noticeable, a slap to the face.
That seemed to calm her down to an extent.
After an excessive apology from the woman, Izuku got right down to business interrogating her. Using his analysis skills acquired over the years, Izuku did his best to absorb the situation.
The woman, Annaisha, had just ended her tour of the museum. Heading back towards the reception at the forefront of the building, she was nearest to the first area of attack. From her recount, a giant bull-like creature had crushed the entrance, from then on the monster spoke of its boredom and wanted to create a little game for itself. Resulting in the maze they were trapped in now.
Not unlike that of the Minotaur.
A monster, trapped beneath a cursed kingdom, doomed to forever walk the twists and turns of the Labyrinth, searching for those unlucky enough to end up in the maze with him.
But that's beside the point, as Izuku motioned to her to keep going.
She nodded, continuing on in her tearful rendition of the recent events,
Of how she had begun running in the opposite direction at her first glance of the monster the hunter, screams of terror echoing behind her as she raced off, flight mode kicking in.
She hid in the Oceanic wing, behind large cases of artifacts of the Pasifika people,
From what Izuku could grasp from her limited information they were up against at least an A-Rank villain; especially when she recounted in gruesome detail the Minotaur pulling apart a person, while she was behind a corner. A sticky situation indeed. At least whatever happened next wouldn’t hurt his already questionable morals anymore. Justice was weird like that.
After a few more minutes spent, they both started walking together through the halls. Now standing up Annaisha flashed a wobbly smile his way, thankful in nature. All was well… but as you’d know by now it wouldn’t stay that way for long,
A ways away, the loud stomps of a beast could be heard…
---
“Ugh, I hate running so… much, this sucks.” The hushed pants of the duo filled the air between them as they ran together down yet another of the hallways, with only the torchlight to guide them. “Yeah… Izuku was it?... I ...agree with you, physical stuff… really i-isn’t my forte.” Her words coming out stuttered as she tried to calm her breathing down properly.
They’d run straight for what seemed like a good 10 minutes or so, a feat boosted by the adrenaline coursing their veins when they first heard the rumblings in the distance. Both sprinted off in the opposite direction, energy slowly ebbing out as they went on. So far they’d passed quite a few of the different areas of the museum, alone and together. Between them, they’d seen the European section, the Volcanic section, the Plastic Awareness Exhibition, the Pasifika section, and a quick glimpse at the Young Artists’ Glassware competition.
But Izuku could see that Annaisha was wearing herself down more and more, so, with both their wellbeing in mind they both decided it would be best if they split up at the next crossroad in the maze, if only because of Annaisha’s differing plans. She’d been planning on trying to track down the rest of her tour group before she had such a serious run-in with the Hunter. After tearful goodbyes and fierce wishes of safety, the two set off once again by themselves each in their own directions, determination clear on both their faces
---
After a short while on the ground Izuku finally heaved himself to his feet, having decided to look around and see if there was anything he could use in this exhibition. He walked through a large doorway. Having found a lever on the wall by the door he used his dwindling reserves of energy to heave the arm up. Flinching as huge lanterns thrummed to life bathing the room in warm torchlight. Shielding his eyes for a moment, Izuku gasped at what he saw before him.
Pure architectural genius, made a reality with Jade materials, the beautiful green was everywhere. Towering jade pillars and sprawling jade floors; tastefully applied, the stone seemingly embracing each of the different exhibits shown throughout the Hall. Izuku had found himself in the main source of pride for this certain museum; the Hall of Heroes. The place where the weapons of heroes long passed congregated too, hosting the swords and spears, blades and daggers, and whatever else may have been used as a means to an end by these legendary heroes. Some of the most notable in Izuku’s mind were the Nichirin Swords, the set of ‘impenetrable’ armor, made from the hide of an actual crocodile, the Staff of a turtle-like master, and… the Jade Chain Blade’s of Kai: The Spirit Warrior.
Kai, one of Izuku's favorite heroes. Supposedly a man so strong that he made the Baba Yaga think twice in respect, known throughout Asia for his prowess as a Martial Master. So well in fact that even Heavenly Spirits were wary of him. Izuku looked up to him, not only because of his quirkless nature but his outlook towards humanity and how he viewed the worth of others, it would’ve been so easy for him to get big-headed because of his strength, not unlike the heroes of today but, according to the stories he dealt with most with a calm heart and a rational mind, so different to Izuku’s own behaviorisms. All in all a serious source of respect from Izuku.
And being so close to his treasured swords?
Crazy… Amazing… He had to physically hold himself back from fanboying so hard he’d break yet another expensive and unconventional weapon of mass destruction (at least it seemed to be a few centuries ago) such as a vase… that apparently held spirits… which was currently broken in a million different pieces on the floor…
He’d blame having actual poison hair accessories in his immediate vicinity for that (they were just so cool…)
Taking the time to really understand the sight before him. There, set on a custom-made stand laid the unique figure of Kai’s chain blades. Two identical slabs, both cut and created out of the same jade - infused with Kai’s own unyielding energy, to bring forth and create the strongest, the sharpest, nothing less than the best, in this form. Each of the swords, engraved with charms, the swirls and dips on the length of the sword enforcing the will of continuous victories, of absolute protection, and just general badassery. Weighted slightly off to ensure proper momentum when swinging from the chains. The chains… the hilt, both had their own stories to tell, the chains especially. Unending length, total mental control, the perfect weapon for both long and close combat, paired with Kai’s absolutely mental Martial Arts skills.
The man was a menace, a one-man army. A true force of nature. Absolute bad-ass.
His story was twice as long as that of his swords, as any proper Martial Warrior knew. A mystery who ended up in Japan (he was originally from China) for unknown reasons, who then proceeded to absolutely dominate the scene, nicknamed the ‘Black Bull” for his ferociousness and sheer, straight-forward focus. And in those days his focus was entirely on making known as one of the greats of Japan… He went against many who challenged him, in doing so finally meeting the one capable of beating him...
Izuku could go on for hours regaling all the legends he had found on the quirkless legend, hidden away from the usual eyes in old forums and chat pages. Hushed talks, not necessarily hidden away but kept quiet, no-one would want any quirkless nobodies gaining hope would they; especially with such people about, even if they were pre-quirk memories. Hope and drive could become a problem in desperate people. But that’s not the point. Right now fanboying about Kai was and Izuku was going to use this situation to its fullest.
Having had set his bag on the floor, his jacket heaped on top of it. Izuku stepped even closer to the weapons, now standing upfront to them, a tuft of fluffy green hair settling in front of his eyes as he peered down, tracing even more of their beauty; curiously, a pang of deja vu shot through him, unconsciously, just as he reached with both hands down onto the handles…
Suddenly, dark green energy coursed through Izuku, just as he laid his hands on the worn handles (curiously fit perfectly for his hands), causing Izuku to let go in shock, himself falling to the ground in a haze of fear and confusion.
Even more so when a deep, rumbling voice filled the air around Izukul, who was sure he was alone in the hall. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” the dark voice first spoke, large and cavernous in its presence. “I see that my consciousness has finally found someone worthy… I guess that'd be you, little one?” This set confusion even further into Izuku. Wholly beyond the situation, even more so than before. “Ah… wh-what… who?...” Izuku stuttered out into the open air, eyes casting frantic searches of the shadows in the room, he still wondered where that voice was coming from.
“Oh… please excuse me, little one, it seems I have forgotten my manners, my name isT͊̏̍̄͏̝̲̝̭͎̯̩̜i̸̤͎̙̖̇ͮͣaͤ҉̤͖̱̲̳̻͈̙n̖̤͚ͩ͒͞ ̢͍̬͈͔͈͎͂S̽ͪ҉͎͕ḩ̹̝͖̹̗̀a̲̜̎̒͢;
but most would know me as another name…
:KAI.”
---
It was a wonder a bad feeling could get Izuku so far,
What he had thought would be something minor like an extra shoulder-check in the school hallways turned into a colossal villain attack, using a quirk so beyond modern concepts that it turned a renowned Museum into a maze of seemingly endless twists and turns.
That, that he could expect, comprehend, analyze. As with any pro, they all have their con’s - the hero industry included. As pushback to meta-humans using their newfound abilities to satisfy their own nature an era of heroes was born. And in doing so, an outrageous attack on the public wasn’t as far-fetched as it would’ve been 200 years ago when these abilities, ‘quirks’ first started to form. So people got attacked daily, villain attacks, even major ones, were that normalized.
But this…? Was coming close to the fine line between coming close to the fine line in Izuku’s head full of logical, sensible, intelligent thinking (even if he didn’t really show it to anyone.)
A now Tibetan Yak spirit, one of his most looked-up-to idols was speaking in his head, after a green light shot up his arm because, in a haze, he touched not one, but both of Kai’s weapons. And now, that voice in his head was continuing on, in a slow, amazingly calm voice...
It was a lot to take in.
So he did what he should’ve done long ago… and fainted.
---
“....Little one!...”
“...Are you...alright?”
“...Hello?...”
Blinking slowly, Izuku opened his eyes. Gradually, pulling himself to a sitting position as he nursed his head, wincing. Rubbing his eyes as he tried to blink through the haze, slowly coming to. “Ugh…” Izuku groaned as he tried to take stock of the situation, “what happened?” he called out, still sitting in front of the sword stand. “Well, I think I'd be the one most adept at answering your questions, little one.”
The memories of the past few minutes played back in Izuku’s mind, reminding him of all the information his body tried to make him forget, as his body’s reaction to highly-stressful situations was to induce short-term memory loss so that he could mull over it later. “Oh, that’s right… Wow, it really is you isn’t it.” A short hum reverberated in his head as a reply. “Sorry about that, my body reacts weirdly when I get too stressed-out, basically knocking me out so I calm down.” blurting out random information as Izuku’s mind attempted to assess and analyze what was going on.
To no avail, of course.
“Oh my god, I haven’t even introduced myself.” Izuku slapped his cheeks in embarrassment. “W-well, my name’s Izuku… I’m a middle-school student, my favorite food is my mom’s Katsudon... Uh, I like the color red, like my shoes. I-I’m… sorry, just a bit confused about what you said, being uh, worthy and stuff, chosen? And all that... I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong person.” Izuku choked out, hugging himself even tighter in a huddle on the ground. The spacious Hall was making it even more obvious of his detrimental words and how alone he actually was, besides the spirit-warrior in his head.
“And what would the reason for that be, young one?” The slightly confused tone of the legend brought tears of regret to Izuku’s eyes. “Ah, so you see, I’m… I’m quirkless. So I wouldn’t be much help to you ‘cause I’m… useless” whispers of Izuku’s depreciating talk echoed throughout the lonely exhibition, his sniffles clear.
Kai felt a strong pang in his intangible chest for the green-haired boy, who had been thoroughly beaten down by so many others. He knew he had to comfort the tiger cub, how, though… that was the question. As much as Kai liked kids (in a non-creepy way, please don’t be that person), his skills in dealing with feelings were non-existent, so, in the off-chance, a little one warmed up enough to his tough exterior they’d soon be warded of when they saw his attempts on anything pertaining to feelings. Which sucked for him.
Kai had once gathered the greatest force in all of China, so strong that that only international enemies could even come close to scraping the lower sides of his unadulterated might, he’d once been someone so revered by the Japanese that the mere mention of his name had people bowing lower to the ground than they would to the highest officials, his bloodied swords knew no mercy in the face of Asia’s strongest, even after wave upon wave of their best and brightest was nothing to the man, the monster, that Kai was.
So much so that his prowess earned him a chance in this tiny little tiger cub, someone even he could view the unstoppable talent that the green boy held. Fury, anger, that anyone else could; would choose to be that blind was what did him in. He couldn’t be the comforting arms and soothing voice to the boy but he would surely be the harsh foundation from whence the beginnings of gloriousness would rise.
Yes, not only a better, brighter version of himself but to help the boy find his true self. That is now his goal, not just a teacher, the origins of his legacy, but a guide, someone to show him the way, though it may not be proper, Kai never dealt in anything less than survival. Yes… this would be him, a mentor. Until the time comes…
But first, this weak mindset had to be destroyed. Lesser men had suffered in defeat before the battle even started because they couldn’t handle the pressure on their minds… slowly self-inflicting insanity. It is a cruel way to die, but it served its purpose in providing an example for others about the importance of mental strength. He couldn’t show him that though, so the only option was words…
Oh no.
(The irony was not lost on him, one of the world's strongest? Scared by a child? Preposterous.)
“Izuku, young tiger cub.”
The powerful voice commanded Izuku’s attention, pulling him out of his quiet sobbing and self-wallowings; this, after all, was a voice that heeded respect. So, he leaned back against the stand wall, his face turned up to the high, darkened ceiling as Izuku closed his eyes, immersing himself in his thoughts and the most prominent voice in his head. Mind open to anything he might hear.
“In all my millennia traversing both worlds I have seen many a spark lit in a warrior's heart, I have seen the courage, the bravery of others and myself when faced with impossible odds. I’ve seen men topple societies in their crusades for a better world, I have walked alongside the best and the brightest the world had to offer, I have seen the victories of myself and of many.
For I am old; dear child.
And as I have seen the greatness, I have also seen the loss. The hurt of wars lost, people hurt, the pain…. And the fear. The fear, of death, of loss, of revenge, left unfinished, but, always, there has been, in the night so full of darkness. That single ray of hopeful light. Created, not born, of a warrior's hard-won courage, of their strength against adversity.
But you must know little tiger cub,
you must remember that courage is not in the absence of fear...
Rather, courage is the judgment that something else is more important than fear.
So, I urge you, dear child, to make your choice.
Will you keep yourself locked away in these chains forged and forced on you by others, or will you decide to make your first step into the light? From what I have seen so far is that you could never be anything that you mentioned before because you, young one, have been chosen.
Whether you choose yourself is the question.
I will support whatever decision you make, for I am you now. Just know that you were never useless, never worthless, never anything less.
“I choose, I want to be more… than what they tell me I am. Please.”
“Gladly child, I’m happy that you’ve decided that for yourself. Now we can begin our journey for your betterment.”
---
After their spontaneous heart-to-heart, Izuku picked up and left off out of the hall and down the steps with a much lighter conscience and happy smile on his face, both the jade swords in his hands as they were a bit too big to be able to fit in his worn old bag. His jacket around his waist and legends spirit in his head. Wow, his life was just getting crazier by the minute. He’d just leave the freaking out ‘till later.
Back into the maze he went, this time, much, much more prepared.
---
“First lesson of the day little one, seeing as I’ll be your mentor from here on, is that everyone has a weakness, though it may not be overtly obvious there’s always something there possible of bringing even the mightiest of gods down, as written in the laws of the universe by the primordials, which I will explain later, little one.” The smooth baritone said, addressing every little whisper of a question, of thought in one statement. Izuku wished that he’d be able to command a crowd like that one day.
“I will teach you every one of my tricks, tiger, you shall learn in time don’t worry. Moving on, this little law of the universe will come in handy to you even if you crossed over, it all applies to that which the old gods watch over, so make sure to use it to your fullest, yes?”
Izuku nodded enthusiastically.
“So I just need to find the weakness right?” He pursed his lips in concentration, as he continued on through the hallways, a handy night vision courtesy of Kai lit up in his eyes, one he was very grateful for. “Yes.” After a few moments of concentration and recounting the information he’d gotten from Annaisha, he pieced together a few ideas. Linking it back to his extensive knowledge of Greek Mythology and one story in particular.
Theseus and the Minotaur.
(search it up on google. I can't be bothered typing up a summary.)
“... Ariadne’s Thread…” he whispered, a sudden realization washing over him. The burning flame rekindled in his viridian eyes, so reminiscent of his mentor.
“I have to find the Thread... That’ll help lead everyone out.. but how would I find it, it could be anywhere.”
“That’s where I can help, dear little one, but make sure to know that you can’t rely on this power. Please, remember that.”
“Why’s that… Sensei?” hesitation clear on his lips as he tested out another form of honorifics, something he’d been doing while they walked through the museum halls.
“It wouldn’t be fast enough in battle, hard-earned reflexes pale in comparison. Not only that but once you’ve mastered yourself and your senses, the radius of this maze would be nothing to you, so I see no reason for you to rely on this when you can achieve much higher power, yes? And, also because it’s a hassle to view from the Spirit World but that’s beside the point.”
“But when would I get the chance to properly learn under you, Sensei?”
“I'm sure the chance will arise.” The spirit said, tone strong and sure.
---
“Wow, this is… something,” Izuku said, staring at the bright, glowing golden thread heaped in his hands. It looked like something out of a pre-quirk fairytale he had seen once on his deep dives into internet forums, the one about the kidnapped girl with terribly long hair. Yeah. “So that’s it? That’s all that’s needed to beat this hell and its master?”
“Yes, though I must say, I’m quite confused too… I was thinking the Thread would be something more inconspicuous, but it seems even villains have trouble hiding their weaknesses, especially one as loud and crude as this one.”
“Well, I’m just happy it was easy, it would've been a pain to try and track the Minotaur if he had it on him. Though, I’m not sure if I can hold both the swords and the Thread at the same time, any ideas Sensei?”
“Ah, I forgot to tell you a few things about those blades of mine, and yours. I apologize, young one. Let me explain.
These blades have linked to your soul, quite literally meaning what I just said. Though you may not feel the effects yet, you’ll have a strong mental connection with these blades. As they were the ones who first found you. And, though cliche, the stronger the link between you and them, the better they’ll become. Soon enough, they’ll be able to help you bring victory in any battle you so wish... But, like all things, in due time.
And to answer your question there’s a helpful little ability I made using some of the charms you see engraved on the surface of the blade, the others are for sharpness, strength, durability, and protection. You can internalize the blades at will, which, in your case would probably mean they turn into separate tattoos. Though, like anything, they still have some room for improvement so don’t be scared to add your own charms if you’d like, every tiger needs proper claws after all.”
All other words were lost on Izuku past the point of mentioning tattoos, he peered down at the two jade weapons that laid at his feet, hanging the thread around his neck like a loose scarf, he carefully grasped the two swords in both hands, turning the blades over in his hands, focusing on all the little details on both faces, then with deliberate fingers, he dropped the blades by the handles, catching them by the chain, twirling around his arm like an impenetrable brace.
‘Internalize’ Izuku’s Sensei had said, so, with purpose in each thought, he reached out through his mind for the link. Finding two conjoined viridescent threads as answers. Tugging on the threads softly, he felt the weight of the swords quickly vanish, in their place, a stark difference to the color of his lightly freckled skin, lay an intricate sword on both arms. Marveling at the sight, he upped the power in his eyes, making them even more of a hypnotizing, glowing dark green, allowing him to study the complex weapons now etched in his skin.
Izuku could feel the approving aura of his newfound sensei, intensifying the positive emotions from his actions.
Now this, he could get used to.
---
“Wait, I have to ‘internalize’ this too?” Izuku said mentally, confusion evident. “But… how I don’t think these have any etchings on them, wouldn’t having a golden string be a weird tattoo?” His mumbled musings over the shiny bundle in his newly freed hands caused much disturbance. Bringing the string closer to his face so he could get a closer look.
“No, there’s nothing on it. What am I supposed to do?”
Suddenly, finally, the voice of Kai resounded in his head,
“You must eat it.”
-
“Oh fuck this.... Nope, no, no way. Mm-m.”
Straight off the bat, all that could be heard was the avid refusal of Izuku Midoriya, who, to anybody else, was having a very heated one-sided argument, with, well, air. But, Izuku himself knew a different story. Shaking his head petulantly, the golden heap sitting limply on the floor (he’d regret dropping it later on). “Ew, no that’s… no.”
“Why not? This is your breaking point?"
"Just think of it as a modern Italian pasta dish, overly golden with no flavourful sauce. Besides, the only other way to help everyone else like your subconscious is so adamant is to go around searching for the people themselves. This would raise not only a lot of trouble for us, the maze if semi-sentient after all, but many problems later. Keep a clear head in these situations. That is very important.”
“Haah, fine… it’s just that-.”
“Well, it reminds me of this one hero I used to look up to a lot, All Might. He’s a good hero, the top one actually, saved a few hundred people from a burning building in under six minutes as his debut as a pro-hero. A-anyways, he’s not my favorite anymore, he… said some messed-up stuff about quirkless people, that was it for me. All I remember of him now was this one feature I watched when I was six, it was about a few of the Top Tens’ morning routine.
“So All Might was there one time, he’s got golden hair by the way. He has this ridiculous hairdo as part of his costume, it’s terrible, criminal even. But not as much as the sheer amount of gel he had to use to keep his hair in place. “
“I-it was really bad.”
“And now I have underlying PTSD of crusty golden hair strands just when I’m needed.”
Huffing to himself in annoyance, staring down at the lump on the dirty floor. While it had felt to get all that, especially when it had been popping up in his nightmares he wasn’t a hundred percent sure if he could go through with this. The memory was pretty bad after all.
Just another reason to curse out All Might mentally.
“Quite the vocabulary you have there Izuku, though you’re missing a few keywords. If it’s any consolation, I could fashion the thread into a sort of guiding… light for a few hours or so.
“Just something to think about.”
“...”
“...Okay…”
“How about you see this as a chance to overcome the power and influence of this All Might? Finally rid yourself of what sounds like a terrible experience, especially at such a young age. And… if it helps, I too have something that plagues me, something I feel shouldn’t affect me so, but it does. I’m afraid of children.”
“Kids?!?”
“Well, not so much the children themselves, but the effect they have on me. They instill… a sense of protectiveness in me, a... What’s the word, a fondness, a need to care for them. Always.
“So you’re just afraid of the weakness children to make you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, thank you for telling me.”
“It only seemed right.”
“Well,” Izuku said, “this better be worth it.” Glaring at the bundle of string, memories meshing together, haunting him, that dreaded hairdo, this bundle, everything, nothing.
“Ah, fuck it, tipping his head back, closing his eyes, he shoved the damn thing down his throat.
“Let’s get out of here.” He walked out, through the foyer, further, through the door. Not looking back. Well and truly done with the place, villain, school, and everyone else be damned, he’d faced a fear to help them, that was more than enough anyone else (besides his mum) had given him.
“Good riddance.”