Chapter 17: Not Again
The bar was dim, lit only by a small warm light, the flicker of a warped television screen and the red neon glow of an exit sign above the door. Dust hung in the air, stirred with every agitated step Shigaraki took as he paced the length of the counter.
His hands twitching—five fingers flexing—as he stomped back and forth, breath ragged behind the new hand covering his face.
"Those damn brats," he snarled, kicking a stool aside. Which hit the wall with a crash, clattering to the floor. "They weren't supposed to win. I wasn't supposed to lose."
He wheeled around, nails scraping against his neck as he tugged at the hand-mask. "The Nomu was designed to kill All Might. Made. And yet—" His voice cracked with fury. "We lost him. Just like that."
Kurogiri stood behind the counter. Perfectly still. Perfectly silent. The faint distortion of his form the only sign he was even there. He watched without comment, shadows curling along the edges of his frame, from his collar, like smoke on a dying wick.
"All because of that-that kid!" Shigaraki said 'kid' as if it were a curse, his hand twitching close to his face. "He destroyed my hand. My plans. Everything! Who the hell was he and what was his quirk?!"
Still, Kurogiri said nothing.
Shigaraki let out a furious yell. "We had it. Everything was set. It was supposed to be the beginning—our debut, our message—our victory!"
His chest rose and fell hard, as if each breath scraped his throat raw. The bar remained silent for a moment, only the ragged sound filling the space.
Until, a small device resting on the counter clicked softly. A faint, static buzz preceded a low, even voice.
"…You sound troubled."
Shigaraki froze. The voice gentle in the way a knife could be gentle if pressed slowly enough.
"You faced unexpected variables," it continued slowly. "Interference no one could have predicted. That is not a failure, Tomura. That is simply reality. The world resists change, it always has."
Shigaraki's breathing eased, just barely.
"But you," the voice eased, "you have begun something inevitable. You made their world tremble. You made All Might bleed. And for that, you should not despair—you should be proud."
Shigaraki swallowed, tension slowly unwinding in his shoulders.
"You are growing. Your hatred maturing. Let it. The path forward is built on resentment. Yours… and theirs."
A beat of silence passed.
Then Shigaraki let out a shaky, almost giddy exhale. "Yeah… yeah, you're right. They mocked me. All of them. Especially him. But this is only the start."
"Exactly," the voice soothed. "You have only just begun."
Shigaraki was finally still, his anger leveled with direction. As he turned, snapping his attention toward Kurogiri, with renewed focus.
"But one thing still doesn't make sense, Kurogiri."
The misty figure didn't move, his yellow, gleaming eyes simply shifting slightly within the mass of wisps. "Yes, Shigaraki Tomura?"
"That kid," Shigaraki pressed, jaw tensing. "He… he used your quirk."
But before a reply could be given, the device crackled sharply, cutting in.
"Are you saying someone was able to use Kurogiri's quirk?"
"Yes, that's how he beat—" Shigaraki stopped mid-sentence, recoiling before he continued. Tone drawn-back as his head angled down. "Yes. He made warp gates."
Silence bled through the static.
"...I see." But just as quickly as the strange change in the man's voice started, did it vanish. "How interesting." Relaxed, ease once again taking hold as if it hadn't momentarily slipped.
"Kurogiri," the voice continued, almost joyfully intrigued. "Tell me what happened."
"As you command. During the confrontation… there were several irregularities. The most concerning occurred before the Nomu engaged All Might. When I attempted to scatter the students and eliminate Thirteen, the boy interfered. And something happened. His mind… it overtook mine."
"You were controlled?" the voice asked
"Yes," Kurogiri confirmed. "Only for a brief moment. But it was… unmistakable."
"And during the fight with Nomu, I felt something else. When the boy was knocked down… something left me. As if something was taken."
Shigaraki stiffened. "Taken? What do you mean taken?"
"I do not completely know."
"But I could feel it. It was drawn out of me. Pulled toward him as though—" The mist tightened. "As though he stole it."
Shigaraki's hand twitched violently. "He stole your quirk? You still have it."
"No," Kurogiri said immediately. "Not the quirk itself. But… something else. A bit of myself."
"...A piece of yourself," the voice repeated. "How fascinating."
"That is not all," he added. "I was unsure until now, but… I believe he is the same young man who disrupted our attempt to rally the underworld and distribute black-market support items several weeks ago."
Shigaraki's whole body froze. The venom suddenly left his voice, replaced with something icier "What?!" But just as quickly as it came, did it get swallowed as he snapped toward Kurogiri. "Why didn't you say anything?!"
"I could not confirm it at the time."
"You couldn't confirm it?" Shigaraki hissed, forcing the words through clenched teeth. "I should just destroy you now and—!"
"Tomura."
Just his name was enough to freeze him in place.
"You are letting your anger outrun your reason."
Shigaraki trembled in place, chest heaving.
Kurogiri dipped the mass that made up his head. "My apologies for not reporting earlier."
"No," the voice murmured. "You acted as you should. Information is only valuable when it is certain. And now… it is."
The last word curled warm and poisonous through the air.
Before the voice continued, thoughtful and slow, "A boy who can use another's quirk. Create warp gates he should not be capable of creating. With a plethora of powerful abilities. And who's intervened before and will no doubt intervene again."
A faint, pleased hum echoed in the small space.
"How remarkable."
Shigaraki's breathing hitched, "But—he ruined everything," he muttered. "My plan. The Nomu. I should've won!"
"And you will," the voice soothed. "But only if you stop staring at the small picture."
Shigaraki blinked. "Small—?"
"You lost a single battle. But in doing so, you learned something invaluable. You found a new piece on the board. A powerful one. But powerful pieces…" The voice lowered, almost fond, "…can always be turned."
Kurogiri shifted, but did not speak.
Shigaraki stared at the device, pulse pounding loud enough to be heard in his ears. "You think we can use him?"
"I know you can," the voice murmured. "Every force has a weakness. Every power has a limit. And every frightened boy has a breaking point. He is no exception. Besides, have you not stopped to wonder how UA is reacting to this boy? What All Might is thinking?"
Shigaraki's brows furrowed in thought.
"But for now," the voice added lightly, as though discussing pleasant weather, "you will rest. Let the dust settle. Regain your strength."
"What? Rest? After all that?"
"Yes," the voice said, firm but calm. "Rage is a tool, Tomura. But only sharpened blades cut cleanly."
After a brief pause, Shigaraki, despite the argument sitting in his throat, nodded.
"And besides…" the voice continued, a thread of amusement slipping in, "UA will be holding their Sports Festival soon. A gathering of promising young heroes… all in one place. It will be a perfect opportunity. For you to observe. To plan. To decide your next move."
With that the device clicked once, finality settling like dust. As a small, growing smile stretched across Shigaraki's face.
Line Break -
A quiet hum escaped Danny's throat as his head rolled forward, gravity taking hold before he stopped it with a start, eyes fluttering open. But even as his awareness returned, his eyelids fell shut before they'd even fully lifted. Fatigue outweighing everything else.
Until it happened again, his head tipping sideways, falling too fast and too far. As he jerked back awake with a groan and rubbed at his face, his palm dragging down until it covered his mouth.
When he finally opened his eyes more than a sliver, the world came in as a blur of colors and shadows. But a few blinks sharpened it — and instantly, he wished it hadn't.
If he could, he would've gone right back to sleep, maybe even faked it just to postpone reality for a few more minutes. But that wasn't really an option. Not one he let himself take, anyway.
So, with all the grace of a sleep-deprieved toddler, he pushed himself up. Straightening his back against the very uncomfortable chair.
"Ugh—this sucks," he muttered. Head falling into his hands, as his elbows braced against his knees. Before he peeked through his hair and fingers. First to Aizawa, still fast asleep. Then to the windows beyond.
If he had to take a guess, he'd say it was early morning, too early. As thick fog pressed up against the glass, obscuring any view that may have existed past it.
But the light at least gave him a clearer look at the room. Although it was simply a standard hospital room, sterile and quiet, nothing truly remarkable to note. Except for the feeling of unease it gave him. As his gaze wordlessly traveled, head turning to the side. Until it caught on something against the wall, passed the end of the bed. Making his shoulders stiffen.
Another chair.
And in it, an all too familiar man. Whose head was tipped back, making his long slicked back yellow-hair hit the wall and splay across it. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, the faint rise and fall of steady breathing, just barely visible.
Danny's stomach turned. Memories from yesterday surging forward. The way he'd bolted, leaving Yamada and the detective in the hallway without a word. He swallowed hard, guilt and embarrassment rising at the back of his throat.
For a long moment, he just stared. Then, quietly, he pushed himself up out of the chair, trying to be as silent as possible. He would apologize later — maybe — but not now. Not when there was still so much he hadn't even begun to think about. Besides the guy was asleep, it would be rude to wake him up.
So he took one slow, careful step.
And immediately caught his foot on the leg of the chair. Causing the metal to scrape loudly against the tile, the sharp sound cut through the morning stillness like a knife.
Danny froze mid-step, wincing hard as the noise echoed. His first instinct was to slap himself, which, unfortunately, he did. Palm meeting forehead with a soft smack that did absolutely nothing to help. As he silently cursed himself.
Before his eyes darted back to Aizawa. Who thankfully appeared to still be asleep, although the bandages made it hard to truly tell.
But he exhaled a shaky breath, shoulders dropping in relief. Maybe he'd gotten away with it—
"...Fenton?"
Danny's stomach sank. Of course not.
"Uh—hey," he said lamely, turning toward the voice.
Yamada was blinking sleep from his eyes. His sunglasses had slipped down to the end of his nose, and for once, his usual energy seemed muted. "Where're you headed?" he casually asked between a yawn.
Danny hesitated, caught on what to say. "Just…uh stepping out for a sec," he said. "Figured I'd, y'know, stretch my legs before I fossilize in that chair."
That earned a tired chuckle. The sound quieter than Danny had ever heard from him.
"Perfect timing then," Yamada said, pushing himself up with a groan. "My back could use the movement too."
"Wait—you don't have to—" Danny started, but the man was already on his feet. His back popping in several places, loud enough to make Danny cringe slightly.
"Ugh. Yeah, see? They really need to design those chairs better," Yamada muttered, rolling his shoulders as he gestured toward the door.
Danny couldn't help the small, quiet laugh that slipped out. A breath of amusement that, for a moment, eased the tension in his muscles, as he followed out through the door and into the empty hallway.
The sound of their footsteps filled the space between them. Echoing down the long, sterile corridor. Neither seemed to know exactly where they were heading, and the silence quickly turned awkward — the kind that made Danny acutely aware of every breath and small sound.
He opened his mouth once, twice, trying to think of something — anything — to say. Maybe a bad joke about hospitals. Maybe to ask why he'd stayed the night. But before he could find the words, Yamada beat him to it.
"I wanted to say… sorry."
Danny blinked, completely thrown off by the last thing he thought the man would say. He looked over, half-expecting the hero to be grinning, about to add in a joke. But Yamada wasn't smiling.
"I don't know what made you react the way you did yesterday," the hero continued, slowing to a stop as he turned toward him. "But whatever it was… I'm sorry if I made things worse."
Danny's mouth opened, but no sound came out. His brain scrambled for something to say, his throat tightening as the memory of yesterday flashed through his head — Yamada's words, 'After all, you're only human', and the way he'd completely over-reacted. Made him want to disappear.
Instead he let out a laugh, short and uneven. "It's—uh—it's fine, really. I'm not even sure why I freaked out like that." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. "Guess I'm just, y'know, a natural at making things awkward."
The self-deprecating joke didn't land, not really, but Yamada smiled anyway.
"Hey," he said, and Danny glanced up. The man's sunglasses had slipped even lower now, revealing tired blue eyes filled with something too close to concern. "You've been through a lot. It's okay if things that usually don't get to you, get to you. You know? Happens to everyone."
Danny didn't know what to do with that. The warmth in the man's voice felt like a weight pressing against his ribs, something he didn't quite know how to carry. So he nodded, just once, hoping it would be enough to end whatever this was.
Luckily, It seemed to work. As they fell back into step, silence creeping between them again. But this time, it wasn't as heavy.
After a while, Danny spoke up, just to fill the space. "So, uh… where's the detective?"
"Always busy," Yamada's grin returned, a bit more like his usual self. "He had to take care of something. But nothing to worry about."
Danny hummed. He didn't buy it, not completely. But he didn't push either. Whatever the 'something' was, he knew it would have something to do with the attack.
They rounded another corner, passing a wall clock. The time made Danny frown, an eyebrow raising. "Wait… it's still a school day, isn't it?"
But the question didn't get him the reaction he'd expected as Yamada barked out a soft laugh. "Not today, my dude. Classes are canceled."
Danny blinked, then nodded slowly. "Huh. Guess that makes sense." and definitely for the better, he thought.
"Yeah," Yamada said, stretching his arms behind his head as they walked on. "After everything that went down, everyone could use the breather."
Danny didn't answer right away. His gaze instead drifting toward the windows at the end of the hallway, that they were quickly nearing. The fog was still thick outside, but was now tinged faintly with gold, as morning light pushed through it. The light bleeding through the mist, until it brushed against the edge of his white boots, as he walked over the sunspot. The light catching his own faint glow that refused to fade from him.
He really needed to change back, he grimaced.
Although he slightly feared how'd he'd feel once back in his human form. Acutely aware of just how much the full access to his still depleted core was fending off consequences from yesterday. But he couldn't postpone it forever, just like he couldn't postpone actually thinking about, well, everything. Especially now that he actually felt like he had more than one functioning brain cell.
Eventually the halfa slowed to a stop which Yamada matched after an extra step.
"I think I'm gonna head out," Danny finally said, sparing a look out the window.
Yamada blinked, caught off guard. "Already? You sure you don't wanna wait 'til Aizawa wakes up?"
"I do," Danny said, voice softer now. "But… he probably needs the rest. And I should get some too." He tried to make it sound easy, casual, but even to his own ears, the lie felt thin. Sleep was the last thing he'd find right now. What he really needed was air, space to breathe without the steady hum of hospital machines or the quiet weight of eyes on him.
Yamada seemed to mull that over, his brow creasing slightly. "Yeah, maybe that's for the best," he said at last. "Especially if you're not planning on getting checked up first."
Danny gave him a look that was answer enough.
"Right," Yamada chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Worth a shot."
"I can manage on my own," Danny said quickly, already taking a step back. "You don't have to take me home."
The hero tilted his head, considering. "You sure? It's a bit of a trek from here to Aizawa's place. Safer if you had, uh—" He hesitated, lips quirking as he clearly searched for another word. "—a highly fashionable, totally not-an-escort companion."
That earned a laugh from Danny, the sound slipping out before he could stop it. "Wow, worried I'll get lost that easily? I'll be fine. I may not be in top shape, but I'm far from helpless. Besides," he smirked faintly, "worst case, I could always just fly." Although after a second he quickly added, "Of course, I won't cause using powers in public spaces is illegal… but you know." he finished with a sheepish grin.
Yamada's own faltered, just slightly. Something unreadable passing behind his glasses, a flicker that Danny couldn't quite pin down. That he read as a type of worry. Worry that those villains might come after him, he guessed.
"Could you tell Aizawa I went home when he wakes up?" Danny asked. "Don't want him thinking I just vanished."
That word seemed to hang in the air for a second too long. Vanished.
"Yeah," Yamada said eventually, his tone lighter but not quite matching his easy grin. "Sure thing. And hey, if anything weird happens, or you need anything, just call me, alright? Hero hotline's always open."
Danny nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Good. Because I charge extra for worry, and right now you're rackin' up quite the bill."
That got another small but real laugh, if not still tired. And for a moment, everything felt relatively normal.
So when Danny turned and started down the hall, there wasn't any hesitation. He didn't look back, just followed the corridor until it curved out of sight, his faint glow trailing after him with each step until only his reflection lingered in the glass.
Missing how Yamada stood where he was for a long moment after watching him go. As he shifted with uneasiness, the smile fading from his face.
"Was that really the right call to make?" Yamada asked in the empty space before he rubbed the back of his neck. Looking out the window that now showed the large city beyond, that seemed to go on forever, a place that anyone could disappear into. "...probably not."
But after a moment the hero exhaled through his nose, not quite a sigh, not quite a laugh. "Guess we'll just have to see Aizawa."
And with that, he started back the way they'd come, now alone.
Line Break -
The meeting room was quiet — far quieter than anyone would have liked. As the few, select individuals settled into their seats around the U-shaped table.
Detective Tsukauchi stood at the forefront of the room, a file tucked beneath one arm as he straightened the dark jacket of his suit. A rare, but needed trade from his usual trench coat.
Principal Nezu sat at the curve's center, paws folded neatly atop one another. His expression, a small unreadable smile that was a curious mixture of composed and deep, calculating thought.
To his right, Midnight sat forward in her chair, posture tense, fingers lightly tapping the table. While Snipe occupied the seat to Nezu's left, his hat and mask observing his face as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. Beside him, Vlad King leaned forward on his elbows, agitation radiating off him like heat.
And at the far end of the table was none other than the Symbol of Peace.
He wore a suit slightly too big for his current form. His eyes seemed trained on something far away — focused somewhere Tsukauchi or anyone else couldn't see.
Eventually Tsukauchi cleared his throat. The sound was small, but in the tense quiet, it commanded the room.
"Alright," he began, flipping open the file. "I'll get straight to it. At this moment, we still don't have a full picture of what happened yesterday at the USJ. From what evidence we do have, the group responsible seems to call themselves the League of Villains."
Vlad let out a low, irritated huff.
"Of the seventy-two individuals arrested during the attack, all of them are small-time criminals. No established affiliations. No notable records. They were hired muscle at best—thugs meant to fill out their numbers."
"So… you're really saying we don't know anything," Vlad said flatly.
"Not yet." Tsukauchi said, turning to the next page. "As for the ringleaders, Shigaraki and Kurogiri. We haven't found a single trace of their identities. No matches for disintegration quirks among registered citizens in their twenties or thirties. No registered warp-type quirk matching Kurogiri's profile. So either they're unregistered, using aliases, or—"
"They know exactly how to hide," Snipe finished with a sigh. "What a pain."
"Mm." Nezu hummed lightly, eyes flickering toward the Symbol of Peace who still seemed half lost in his own world. "All Might, you came in direct contact with both of them. Is there anything you would like to add?"
The hero blinked, slowly returning from wherever his thoughts had drifted.
"…Yes," he began quietly. Looking down at the wooden table. "The attack on the USJ was… bold. Too bold. No rational villain would attempt something like that. But the boy, Shigaraki—he seemed so…"
All Might hesitated, searching for the right word.
Midnight leaned forward. "Unstable?"
"Immature," All Might corrected, though Midnight wasn't entirely wrong either. "He kept monologuing. Bragging about the Nomu. But he never mentioned his own quirk. He only used it when enraged, and that… ultimately led to the Nomu's downfall. Everything about him suggested he'd never been told no before."
Vlad huffed. "Spoiled brat with a dangerous quirk."
"A very dangerous combination," Snipe muttered.
Tsukauchi nodded. "What worries us most is that this 'man-child' convinced seventy-two individuals to follow him. With heroes everywhere, villains are feeling cornered. That desperation may have made them latch onto someone—anyone—who promised change."
A heavy quiet fell over the group.
Until Midnight seemed to finish deliberating over something as she slowly spoke, voice softer than usual. "…This isn't the first time."
Everyone's attention snapped to the hero. As Vlad pressed, "What do you mean not the first time?"
"The… boldness. The organization." Midnight's fingers tapped once against the table. "This reminds me of an incident from a month or so ago."
Tsukauchi looked up sharply. He knew exactly what she meant. A fact he'd chosen not to bring up. But now it was too late.
"You're referring to the black-market weapons raid," he said.
"Mm. Yes." She folded her arms. "It wasn't nearly as large, but the pattern's similar. A group of small-time thugs suddenly cooperating. Coordinated. Clearly backed by someone." Her blue eyes locked onto the detective as she momentarily stalled. "...That was also the night we first met Fenton."
Snipe shifted. While All Might finally fully looked up. And Nezu's ever-present smile noticeably lessened.
But it was Vlad who spoke next, tension seeped into his voice. As he suddenly took the conversation in another direction. " So the villains that attacked the USJ knew when and where to strike. They knew All Might's schedule. They knew where the class would be… what if someone fed them that information."
"And you're thinking…" Midnight's jaw tightened. "A mole."
The word hovered, heavy and unwelcome. But just as Tsukauchi was about to cut in, not liking where the conversation was heading, he was beaten to it.
As Snipe exhaled through his mask. "Let's lay it out plain. What do we actually know about this Fenton kid? 'Cause from what I've read, he's powerful. Entrance exam proves that. And yesterday? He apparently went toe-to-toe with some of these villains." His head turned to All Might as he referenced the information the hero had provided.
And just like that the unspoken questions were truly asked.
What if he's connected? What if he's part of this? What if he's the reason they knew…?
The thoughts seeping into everyone's minds no matter how unwanted they were.
The tension in the room tightened like a drawn bowstring. A finger resting on a trigger… a sharpened knife resting against a throat.
Tsukauchi opened his mouth—ready to defend Danny, ready to steer the conversation back onto safer ground—
But someone else spoke first.
"No."
All heads turned.
All Might sat straighter than he had the entire meeting. His voice was firm, steady, unwavering. As his sharp blue eyes pierced forward.
"Absolutely not."
Snipe blinked. "All Might—"
"I was there," All Might cut in. "None of you saw the way he fought. The way he spoke to Shigaraki. The look in his eyes. " His fists that were joined together on the table curled. "He fought with everything he had. Got hurt just to win… stepped up where I failed."
He shook his head once. Steeling the certainty in his own voice as he tried to pretend he wasn't also working to convince himself.
"There is not a doubt in my mind that Fenton had nothing to do with this attack. Whatever his past holds… whatever unknowns exist… he had no part in what happened."
All Might's gaze swept over the table, meeting each person's eyeline. As if waiting for a counter-point to be made..
But all that came after a long moment was Nezu's even voice.
"I couldn't agree more."
Everyone turned to the small, furry, animal-like man as the tension seemed to finally begin to lift.
"As teachers at UA and even more so as heroes, it is our responsibility to look beyond the simplest conclusions." Nezu's voice held no accusation, and his smile was still in place. "Fear is a powerful thing. It urges people, even good people. To reach for the explanation that feels easiest. Especially in our society where villainy can bloom from shadows, misunderstanding, desperation… or tragedy. Where a frightened child can grow into a danger, and where a seemingly dangerous individual may, in truth, still be just a child being nurtured by the wrong force."
No one interrupted, and All Might looked to his own hands as he took in the words carefully. An image of a man flashing in his mind.
"Leaping to blame," Nezu went on, "may soothe our anxieties in the moment, but it blinds us to the far more complex reality. If we allow fear to guide our judgment, we risk turning suspicion on the innocent while the true threat adapts and slips past us."
A quiet breath passed through the room.
"As of now, we don't yet know the full picture. Or who Shigaraki and Kurogiri truly are. And we don't know how they learned our schedules or how deep their reach truly goes. But there are many possibilities. Isn't that right, Detective?"
"...Uh yes. There are several possibilities we're considering." Tsukauchi straightened at being addressed so suddenly.
Nezu's smile grew.
"Then let us not narrow our vision prematurely." His gaze shifted around the table again, soft but firm.
"At UA, we teach our students to rise above fear. To look deeper. To think critically, even when terrified. If we cannot do the same, what message does that send?"
A new, different type of thoughtful silence settled as Nezu folded his paws once more.
"For now, we must focus on what's important. Protecting our students, all of them and moving forward. As we prepare for every possibility. " His eyes glimmered with a knowing sharpness. "And keep our minds open until evidence — true evidence — presents itself."
And with that, the conversation was steered back on track.
But even as the room slowly began to breathe again, the shadows of what had been said — and what had almost been said — lingered.
Especially for All Might.
Line Break -
The air outside the hospital was a welcome relief — one that had felt like a fight just to reach. But it was more than worth it. As a small portion of the suffocating weight inside him lifted, his mind becoming a little more clear.
The city was already awake, if it had even gone to sleep. The fog had lifted, leaving the streets bathed in morning light. As groups of businessmen passed by in pressed suits, phones already to their ears. A pair of school kids hurried past, laughing between bites of breakfast bread. A delivery truck rumbled to a stop at a red light, the scent of exhaust and frying oil mixing in the crisp air.
It was peaceful. Maybe not his definition of normal—not quite—but strangely, it was no longer abnormal to him either.
His steps were uncertain, half from exhaustion and half from the simple fact that he had no idea where he was going. Every street corner looked the same, the signs overhead a blur of symbols his brain didn't seem to fully want to translate at the moment. But still, he kept moving. He could figure it all out later. For now, distance felt like the real goal.
Though as he went, the looks he got only got more obvious and harder to ignore.
At first, they were fleeting. Then, as the streets filled, those glances lingered, until it seemed like there was always at least one pair of eyes on him. The weight of it pressed against his skin. But he couldn't really blame anyone, knowing full well how out of place he looked.
"Right," he sighed, stopping as his eyes flicked down an alleyway between two narrow buildings. It wasn't much—just a few stacked crates and a single black cat perched atop a dumpster. But it would do.
He slipped in without a sound, though the cat hissed, arching its back as he crossed its path.
"Good morning to you too," he mumbled.
When he was far enough from the street—at least what he hoped was far enough—he stopped. Head lowering as he took in a deep, slightly shaking breath, eyes drifting to his gloved hands. Their faint glow that seemed to almost pulse, reminding him of everything he couldn't quite escape.
"Okay. Let's get this over with. Just like ripping off a bandaid, right?"
Of course, no one answered. So, after a pause that stretched a little too long, he finally focused on the hum in his chest—his core. Cold and warm all at once.
Then, with a faint pulse, the bright, familiar ring of light appeared around his middle.
Distantly, he heard a startled yowl and the clatter of something as the cat no doubt bolted.
But the light didn't falter, one half sliding up and the other down, washing over him. He watched with half lidded eyes that reflected the light as it traveled up his arms. Until he was staring at his own bare hands, once again. As the light reflecting in his eyes vanished.
And all at once the weight of his body seemed to double.
The alley tilted.
He caught himself on the wall, palm pressing hard into the brick. While his other went to his forehead, fingers digging into the space between his brows as black spots clouded his vision.
"Ugh—yeah. Just like a bandaid…"
But the dizziness wasn't so easily convinced and for a moment, all he could do was focus on breathing. In through his nose and out through his mouth. Just like Aizawa had shown him the night before. It was clumsy, uneven—but it worked.
Though no amount of breathing could actually change how awful he felt. But compared to the first time he'd arrived in this dimension, this was manageable. So he was fine.
After one last long exhale, he risked taking on his full weight again, standing straight. As he blinked back the fog in his head.
And immediately regretted it.
"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, laughter edging his voice. He'd completely forgotten what his human form had been wearing.
His UA branded gym uniform stared back at him.
"Yeah. Great improvement," he muttered. "Super great."
Still, it was better than his ghost form. Probably. It wasn't like he had another choice. So, with a reluctant shrug, he decided to roll with it—and maybe actually start figuring out how to get back to Aizawa's, instead of just wandering.
He reached for his pockets—then frowned when his hands met nothing. As yet another realization dawned on him.
"Oh, perfect," he said, deadpan. "No phone. No GPS. Who needs directions anyway?" A humorless laugh escaped as he turned back toward the street, ignoring the protests of his legs as he forced himself onward.
But the city had only grown busier. A few cars hummed past in a steady rhythm. People flowed through the crosswalks with practiced speed. Danny tried to match their pace, shoulders straight, steps steady, expression neutral. But with each block, the act crumbled faster. His posture slouching, his head dipping lower and lower. Until the faint confidence he'd started with bled out of him entirely.
Every block seemed longer than the last. While his feet only got heavier, the lightness from earlier long gone.
And by the sixth or seventh city block, he was done. As he wondered how he'd even managed to make it this far in life if he couldn't even find his way through a city. Though, with a small, weary chuckle he supposed he hadn't.
The world was just too loud, too bright. The hum of voices and traffic pressed at the edges of his mental momentum until all he wanted to do was lie down and let the city swallow him whole.
He didn't even realize he'd stopped walking until a loud voice that sounded like it was being fed through a speaker cut through the noise.
"Up next, an update on yesterday's incident at the UA rescue training center…"
The words hooked him before he could think. As he looked up.
Across the street, a massive screen mounted on the side of a building showed a news anchor and beside them an image of the USJ.
Around him, others slowed too—some stopping entirely. Their faces directed toward the broadcast.
"…where hero course students were attacked by a gang of villains. According to new police reports, the criminal group calls themselves The League of Villains. Investigators have reportedly uncovered that this group has been plotting to kill UA teacher and popular hero All Might since the spring of this year. Police arrested seventy-two villains at the scene, but the League's leader escaped. His whereabouts are unknown."
The crowd murmured, a ripple of remarks passing through them.
Danny stood in the middle of it all, biting the inside of his cheek. As the words echoed in his head long after the reporter had moved on to another topic.
"Hey… isn't that a UA uniform?"
Danny blinked.
"Yeah, I think you're right," another answered. "Same one they wear at the Sports Festival."
Then another whisper, "Wait—what's that kid doing here? He doesn't look so good."
And another, then another, and in seconds it felt like the entire street had turned toward him. Their eyes and words dissecting him.
The air around him suddenly felt heavier, his chest tightening and before he could stop himself. His body flickered out of sight, invisibility taking hold.
"What the—where'd he go?!"
"He just disappeared!"
"Did you see that?! He—he vanished!"
He didn't stay to hear the rest. The moment he slipped from sight, he kicked off the ground, racing for the blue sky above. Ignoring the extra strain as he climbed, until the voices blurred and the hum of the city faded beneath him.
And just like that he was above it all. The wind ruffling through his clothes, tousling his hair. Distantly he questioned why he hadn't done this from the start. Though the light ache in his chest was answer enough. But that didn't matter, not up here, not now as he looked over everything.
The same buildings that had loomed over him moments ago now seemed so small. The streets less confusing. The crowds below nothing but barely visible dots.
Danny exhaled softly, his eyes scanning the sprawl below, until they landed on a few tall buildings tucked together in a cluster, one of them was the hospital.
He dragged his gaze farther, just past the main city and over the faint stretch of trees that marked its edge. Beyond them, on a hill of its own, UA stood—its own tall buildings gleaming faintly in the sunlight. The campus looked distant in every sense of the word, unreachable, almost separate from the rest of the world.
From there, his eyes finally traced their way back to where Aizawa's place would be.
As he realized just how far he'd gone, somehow managing to walk in the exact opposite direction.
A quiet, humorless laugh slipped from his chest, lost to the wind. "Figures," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as his hair brushed across his forehead.
He could see everything now—where he'd been, where he needed to go. The whole picture, clear as day.
And yet… he didn't move.
Because, honestly, he didn't know what he was even doing at this point.
The news broadcast still echoed in his head, each word replaying just like so many other things did. Like a warning he couldn't shake.
And beneath it, the image of Kurogiri and Nomu—those weren't just villains. They were something else. And he wasn't even sure what was worse—the fact that they weren't fully ghosts, or that somehow they also were. Almost like him.
And then there was Shigaraki. The way he'd said he'd come back. That he'd stop at nothing to destroy everything he cared about.
Danny's hands clenched. He wasn't even supposed to be here in the first place, in this world, this dimension. Whatever weird twist of fate had dropped him here, it was already too late to undo. And now he was stuck in so many senses it made him want to laugh.
Maybe he shouldn't have stayed that night. Maybe he shouldn't have gone with Aizawa and Tsukauchi. Maybe he shouldn't have said yes to going to UA. Maybe he made the wrong choice… and maybe he was still making it.
He sighed, shoulders sagging as he looked up. Until the sky was the only thing being reflected in his eyes.
He didn't even know where to start with trying to understand everything.
The fact that he had a new power, sort of. How he was going to explain that fact.
And then there was that other thought, the one he'd been pushing down for so long. Even last night when he'd made that promise to Aizawa, to share more about himself when he was ready.
That deep down he wanted to run away. He didn't want to be caught up in another seemingly inescapable, constant fight.
Not again.
Maybe that made him a coward. Though he didn't even know which half did. Wanting to leave or the fact that he wasn't brave enough to.
Perhaps he could just stay here, caught between having to make that choice and having to live with the consequences. Between the sky and Earth, between worlds.
But he couldn't.
He wasn't built to float forever, suspended between choices he was too afraid to make.
Maybe in another life, he could just stay up here. Let the world shrink into something small and quiet and distant. Maybe he could pretend none of this was happening. Pretend he didn't know what Shigaraki had said. Pretend Kurogiri's voice and how he felt when he used overshadowing on him didn't echo in the back of his mind. Pretend he hadn't met anyone from this world.
Pretend he wasn't scared.
His throat tightened. Yeah. That was the truth of it.
He was scared.
Of this dimension. Of going home. Of not going home. Of explaining himself. Of not explaining himself. Of being needed. Of not being needed.
Of fighting.
He dragged in a slow breath, the kind that stalled halfway through because it hurt a little. His gaze drifted back to UA's distant silhouette. Then toward the hospital, where someone who barely even knew him lay hurt because of him. Then toward the small patch of city where Aizawa lived—where he had offered him somewhere to live.
Somewhere to rest.
Somewhere safe.
Danny let the air ease out of him. "You're an idiot," he muttered to himself, but the words were softer this time. Less angry. More… resigned.
Because even if every part of him wanted to run—
He already knew he was going to stay. That he had to.
So with one last final look at the city stretched out beneath him and the sky above, he began flying towards Aizawa's home.
He'd made his choice. And this time, he wouldn't run away. Not Again.