28Disclaimer: Both Street Fighter and My Hero Academia belong to each of their respective franchises. I claim no ownership whatsoever.
Dark…
He wondered to himself when he was last conscious.
Where…
He couldn't feel anything. Nothing at all. Nothing but emptiness. Vast…distant…
Yet…
I…live…
Why? How? Now of all times…
Then again, time itself seemed so fleeting since he allowed himself to be swallowed by the darkness. Until the day would come... he could not bring himself to care, nor remember.
All he knew was that-
Hm…?
It was gone.
The numbness returned, sinking him back into the void. Lonely, suffocating, but comforting.
But…what was that? What had emitted that...pulse?
Impossible…
The darkness was swallowing him again, a bottomless depth that a part of him hoped he would never wake from.
Elsewhere…
It had been so unexpected, disbelief running through his entire body as he lay on the ground, hot tears trickling down his cheeks. It was enough for him to forget that it had been a perfectly sunny day in summer, with barely a cloud in the sky, the chirping of the cicadas just noise in the background, now replaced by a mind-numbing ringing, the pain wracking the rest of his body only adding to his agony.
"Come on, Deku, fight back!"
"Yeah, Quirkless, be a hero!"
He tried to pull himself up on all fours, only to be met with a new round of agony as a blow struck his cheek, then his stomach, sending him crashing to the dirt.
"That's what you get for playing hero, you wimp."
"Yeah, what a wuss."
He could very nearly feel footsteps approaching, causing his one eye to crack open, only for sweat and dirt to reflexively force the lid shut. But he could make out enough, their collective presence as oppressive as their taunts echoing through his partially deafened ears.
"Deku, Deku, Deku," a voice sneered condescendingly. "What exactly did I tell you when this whole mess started?"
He tried to stifle a cough, but his throat gave way, trying to drum up an answer that died as soon as he was able to suck in a breath.
"Huh? What was that?" The voice continued to mock, a snide indifference mixed with glee. "Oh, that's right! Trying to be a hero is the dumbest thing you could ever do. And why is that? Because you're a Deku! A spineless, powerless lump who can't do anything!"
"Yeah!"
"Useless!"
"Y-Yeah, w-what a lame-o…"
His lips tightened; he didn't even need to hear clearly to realize that the last one was the child he had tried to defend.
"Tch, buzz off, loser!" The most dominant of the group snapped. "Go on! Amscray!" He then dipped down to lean in closer to his one quarry as the other fled. "You see that, Deku? You see now why you shouldn't be a hero? If you can't even back it up, everybody's just gonna see you for the worthless quirkless you are. Heck, I'm practically doing you a favor. So why don't you just crawl on home and cry to your mommy. Like you always do."
He could only curl up into himself in pain and fear, with only fitful whimpers serving as something of a response to his tormentors.
And yet, still…
"You... you..." A deafening boom cut him off, an actual explosion; though muffled, both arms quickly clasped his head as he tightened into a defensive fetal position. Still, he dared to open both eyes into slits, only to have his vision obscured by a cloud of dust that soon dissipated just enough to reveal a face looking back at him with a scowl.
"Ugh, will you just shut up?" The other boy spat and shot back. "You're so annoying it hurts just to look at you. And hearing you talk makes me want to puke." He kicked the downed boy once more in the stomach, eliciting a weak cry. "Tch. Whatever." He turned to the other two kids with him. "This place blows. Let's go to the arcade."
"Now you're talking!"
"Hey, Kacchan, they got this new fighting game…"
Kacchan…
He opened his eyes once more, his gaze unfocused for only a second before landing on the receding forms of his assailants, and on the middle one in particular.
K̷̳̤̤̒͜͜ả̶̛͖͕͎̭̳̦̭͕̤̻̩̀̉̓̍̿̆̏̅̆̇̔͜͝-̶̛͍̓̑̊̀̑̀͑̄͋̉̚͠
Elsewhere…
He opened his eyes as he lay in bed, once again finding a bright white ceiling staring back at him, dimmed by the shades that covered the windows. The sterile air tickled his nose. He shifted, turning his head to look at the door before scanning the corners out of habit. He was suddenly reminded of how grueling it was to keep changing hospitals, but it was a necessity. Not since the last one had almost been discovered by a reporter. Careless.
He took a deep breath, blinked a few times after running an aggravated hand over his forehead, and turned to the desk at his bedside, where a phone rested. With a grunt, he reached for it with his non-dominant arm, the other attached to an IV. He illuminated the screen and saw that it was past noon. He snorted and made a reluctant glance at his lunch being fed to him intravenously. No secret that he hated it. Well, maybe not as much as when he started, but he was working it off.
"What was…?" His eyes narrowed before drifting to spy at the window, but instead of a blue and thinly clouded sky, it was just the blinds, with a little bit of light peeking in.
"And just as I was about to take a nap..."
It was like a needle had pricked his skin ever so gently, aside from the one already attached, causing no real discomfort but still jolting him out of the throes of sleep. He breathed in deeper, a tiny wisp of longing picking at his misery of not being able to eat solid food. Maybe in a few more years, he would come to terms with this little bit of torture, but until then…
"Why...am I remembering Nana?" He tore his eyes away, recalling that he needed to recoup some sleep. A rescue mission the other day that he had almost botched due to his time limit. He was cutting it closer and closer, but he was managing with the therapy. It couldn't possibly get any worse.
Which is what he always told himself.
Brazil…
He was jolted from his meditation by the soft brush of a falling leaf, and with the simplest of dexterity, he caught it between his thumb and forefinger. He looked down and brought the offending leaf close to examine it. Lush and fresh, yet it failed to hold, its life cut short. Not as short as the mayfly's, perhaps, but still pitifully brief. Lifting his head, he saw the tree from whence it came. Was it dying? Would it wither sooner than the others? It looked to still have a good fifty years or so. So why did this little one stray?
He let go of the leaf and let it land in the center of his palm, staring at it again, perhaps to see if there would be any changes, any browning, anything. Then he blew sharply on it, letting it fly and tumble through the air until, amazingly, it was caught in a tiny crack in the bark of the same tree.
Without a word, he, an elderly man with sickly yellow and wrinkled skin, rose to his feet with an inaudible jump and straightened his posture, one arm tucked behind him. Then his head turned in a certain direction, looking over great distances to see...
"Ah..." He curled his lips into a sort of grin, missing most of his teeth, and a hoarse chuckle escaped from the depths of his chest. He looked down again, further down, to find himself standing not on solid ground, but on a large turtle shell. "Well, Yamasen, I do believe the wheels of fate...or rather karma...are once again turning."
Musutafu…
Bakugo froze, then snapped his head back to where Izuku was still face down in the dirt, his heart skipping a beat, a jolt to his system making every hair follicle on his body tingle. "Wh..."
He could see that the boy had barely moved from the same spot, and yet... there was this foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Eh? Kacchan?"
At the sound of his nickname, Bakugo quickly snapped out of his stupor, though he still seemed mildly taken aback as he drew in a breath. Biting the bottom of his lip, he resumed his walk to the arcade, barking at his cronies to hurry along.
Izuku blinked away the tears, sniffling as the snot in his nostrils made it difficult for him to breathe, his attempts coming out as choppy gasps. "K...Kacchan..."
When did everything go wrong? Why? Just why? He kept asking himself such questions, hoping that an answer would come and give him some clarity, closure, but one never did, leaving him even more plagued over what he could possibly have done to cause his friend to...
Was Katsuki even still his friend?
No, he shouldn't think that. Of course, he was still his friend. He's Kacchan. All the good times they had couldn't have been meaningless. Maybe he just needed some time for whatever was bothering Kacchan to settle down. Maybe even some time apart. Yeah, that was it. Maybe this was all just some misunderstanding between them. With these possibilities running through his mind, he slowly rose to his feet, some parts of his body still aching, but nothing he couldn't walk off. He spun his head to pin the direction of his home, when he caught something strange overhead.
The sun was setting.
"Huh?" Had he really been out for that long? He was pretty sure that it had been noon when he had been knocked off his feet, and still quite conscious. What could have...?
His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden but dull throb in his head, causing a hand to grab where it ached. He sucked in a breath and decided that now was the time to go home rather than dwell on the day's troubles. Maybe he'd feel better tomorrow. His mother should be waiting for him. Besides, he could always watch some All Might videos to make himself feel better...
Elsewhere…
There.
That was it.
That hadn't been his imagination, nor a dream.
Or perhaps it was. One he had been waiting for since he had fallen into this slumber so long ago.
He began to stir, and the mountainous glacier he was trapped in followed, giving way. A mere crack, a fracture no thicker than a hairline, soon grew and splintered around every corner until it ended in a clean circumference. More followed in rapid succession, creating a deafening sound that echoed for miles, drawing in and enthralling some nearby wildlife.
Muscles long atrophied, joints as hard and rigid as ice, came to life as blood flowed freely once more, returning some warmth that began to thaw his prison. His reviving senses began to take in his surroundings, a light throbbing in his chest that quickly rose to a thunderous drum.
He could not possibly be mistaken.
This feeling…this sensation…this raw urge…
This…murderous intent.
His eyes slowly opened, revealing the deepest pools that possessed an indescribable rage. A rage that had been allowed to simmer, to temper.
Now free to be unleashed.
He drew in a breath as he released his aura in what felt like eons. A visceral, ravenous ki that erupted out of every pore, flaking away at the ice and rendering the air. The very waters around him bowed, sending fierce waves crashing against the nearby shore as more of the glacier crumbled. The nearby animals that had been attracted to the initial disturbance were now fleeing, their flight reflexes kicked into overdrive, certain of death if they did not distance themselves from the epicenter of such devastation.
Finding his center, he inhaled once more, his broad chest swelling before belting out a mighty roar to the heavens in announcement of his return.