In the Dark World of Izuku Midoriya's subconscious, Yoshi Abara sat on the edge of a rusted, iron bed frame. The windows were opaque, let-ting in only a sickly, stagnant grey light. There were no nurses, no doctors, just the rhythmic, distant dripping of a faucet that never ran dry.
Yoshi leaned back, staring at the peeling wallpaper. He had been sifting through the boy's memories again, watching them like flickering reels of film. One memory in particular stood out, a beach, a skeletal man, and a single strand of hair.
Eat this, the man had said.
Yoshi's lip curled. He had watched the transfer of power, the literal passing of a soul's weight from one vessel to another. To most, a quirk was a biological function, an extra muscle, a chemical reaction. But through the lens of his own death, Yoshi saw the truth that Midoriya's "hero-nerd" brain only theorized about.
Quirks weren't just in the blood, they were anchored to the animus. They were the signature of the soul.
"If the quirk is the soul," Yoshi whispered to the empty ward, "then the soul can be moved."
He saw the way All Might's essence had taken root in Midoriya, dragging the echoes of previous holders along with it. It was a parasitic chain, a lineage. This realization brought him a cold, calculating hope. If he could learn to project his own essence through his quirk then perhaps he could move himself. He could bridge the gap from Midoriya to someone else.
But he understood the risk. His quirk wasn't the gentle, flickering ember Midoriya had started with. It was a tidal wave. If he fed it to a weak vessel, they wouldn't become a host, they would simply shatter, leaving him as a drifter in the void once again.
His thoughts drifted back to a story he had heard Midoriya listening to, a haunting, poetic myth from a podcast about lost folklore. It had resonated with Yoshi in a way that made his phantom skin crawl. It spoke of a Shadow and a Golden Child.
He turned the words over in his mind, treating them like a manual for his own resurrection. The Shadow, himself, lived in the attic of the Golden Child's heart. But to fly again, to leave the attic, the Shadow needed to find his White Stones. His bones. The folklore called it Hone-Kara, the Rebirth of Bone. He needed to find where his body had been dumped. He needed the foundation of his spirit.
Then there was the Red Thread, or Chi-Musubi. The Blood-Binding. He needed a drop of blood from the one who broke him. It was the only way to tie his past to his future.
But the part that kept Yoshi staring at the dark corners of the hospital room was the final instruction: When the Golden Child falls, the Shadow will be there to catch the bones.
"You're the Golden Child in this situation, aren't you, Midoriya?" Yoshi muttered, a dark, jagged smile touching his lips.
He realized he didn't necessarily need to find a new body immediately. He just needed Midoriya to break. If the boy went through a trauma so profound, or a near-death experience so violent that his consciousness shattered, the "Golden Child" would fall. The attic door would be kicked off its hinges. Yoshi would no longer be a passenger, he would be the occupant.
He would become the Kishin the story warned about, the Demon-God. He wouldn't care about the "mud of the grave" or forgetting the warmth of the sun. He had died in black, he was comfortable there.
The only variable he couldn't account for was the "others." The other souls lurking in the depths of One For All. They were silent for now, but he felt them, white noise in the background of Midoriya's mind. They were the guardians of the attic, and they would likely impede him if he tried to seize the light.
"More waiting," Yoshi hissed, standing up and kicking a metal tray. The clatter echoed down the endless hall, a lonely, angry sound.
He hated the patience required, but he felt a flicker of grim optimism. The League of Villains was becoming more brazen, more violent. They were the hammers, and Midoriya was the glass. Every attack, every dead classmate was a crack in the Golden Child's shell.
Yoshi sat back down, closing his eyes and listening to the distant, muffled thumping of Midoriya's heart from the world above.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
"Keep beating for now, hero," Yoshi whispered into the grey dark. "Just make sure you're ready to fall when the time comes. I'll be right here to catch what's left."
There was a violent rumble in the world, it shook Yoshi with excitement as it signified his host was going through hurt,
"Now I wonder what may be going on..."
___
The air in Hosu City was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and the unnatural, high-pitched screeching of Nomu. It was a cacophony of disaster, a city being torn apart by monsters that shouldn't exist. Izuku Midoriya moved through the chaos like a green streak, his heart hammering against his ribs. The presence of the Nomu meant the League of Villains was here, and if they were here, the Hero Killer was likely lurking in the shadows.
He was terrified for Tenya Iida. He had seen that look in his friend had ignored all his frantic calls and text messages, he was scared he may have traded his compass for a blade. All Might was miles away, and Gran Torino had given Izuku the authority to act, but as he turned into a narrow, damp alleyway, Izuku realized that authority meant nothing in the face of true depravity.
The sight that met him was a nightmare carved in blood.
Tenya Iida, the man who represented the very pillar of UA's discipline, was pinned to the wet pavement. Standing over him was a creature of rags and steel, Stain. The Hero Killer's sword was already buried deep in Iida's shoulder, pinning him to the earth like an insect in a display case. As Izuku watched, frozen for a heartbeat, Stain raised another blade and struck down in a blurring arc, the steel biting into the side of Iida's neck.
"NO!"
The scream ripped from Izuku's throat as 10% of One For All surged through his legs. He blitzed, the green electricity leaving a crackling trail in the dark alley. He struck Stain with a frantic, desperate punch that sent the villain reeling back, his boots scraping against the brick.
Izuku didn't follow up. He dropped to his knees beside Iida, his hands shaking as he applied pressure to the crimson welling from his friend's neck. "Iida-kun! Stay with me! Please, just stay with me!"
"M-Midoriya... run..." Iida choked out, his voice bubbling through a throat filled with iron.
Izuku tried to hook his arms under Iida to lift him, but a low groan from the shadows stopped him. He looked up to see a Pro Hero, Native, slumped against the wall, paralyzed and bleeding. Izuku looked back at the entrance of the alley. Stain was already back on his feet, his tongue flicking over his lips, his eyes wide with a manic, predatory glee.
Izuku realized the math was impossible. He couldn't carry both of them out before Stain carved him open.
"A real hero," Stain rasped, his voice a dry grate of bone on stone. He let out a low, jagged laugh. "You have the eyes, boy. You have the soul. Unlike these... these fakes." He gestured dismissively at Native and the gasping Iida. "But your heart is too soft. It makes you slow."
"Don't let him... drink your blood," Native wheezed from the wall. "His quirk... it paralyzes..."
Stain's hand flicked, a small throwing knife whistling through the air toward Native's throat to silence him. Izuku lunged, his boot connecting with the steel, kicking it into the brickwork.
He's too fast. I can't protect them both and fight him, Izuku thought, the panic rising like bile. He looked at the gash on Iida's neck. It was shallow, but it was wide. If he didn't get help, Iida would bleed out right here in the mud.
He remembered the USJ. He remembered the way his body had knit back together in a burst power that wasn't his.
Yoshi, he whispered internally. Yoshi, please.
Silence.
Stain lunged again, his long katana whistling inches from Izuku's nose. Izuku leaped, vaulting off a dumpster, his mind screaming. "YOSHI! HELP HIM! HE'S DYING!"
Stain paused for a fraction of a second, looking around the empty alleyway as if searching for a hidden ally.
"Why are you screaming, Champion?" Yoshi's voice drawled in the back of his mind, cold and dripping with apathetic amusement. "Just pick up the four-eyed brat and run. The city is big. You can leave the other one. Nature takes the weak."
I can't leave him! Izuku roared back. I can't choose one life over another!
"Oh, so noble," Yoshi laughed, the sound vibrating in Izuku's teeth. "Tell me, Midoriya... what if it were Bakugo lying there? What if you had to choose between the boy who bullied you and a stranger? Would you still be so fair?"
Izuku whimpered, his foot nearly slipping on the wet pavement. Please... don't ask that. Just help Iida!
Stain didn't give him time to breathe. The villain ran up the side of the building, defying gravity, and sliced downward. Izuku performed a desperate backflip, feeling the wind of the blade part his hair. Stain was fast, terrifyingly fast. He was moving at the same terminal velocity as Izuku's maximum output.
Izuku's hand went to the black bracelet on his wrist. The beacon. If I can just tap it once...
Suddenly, the skin on the back of his hand split open. A pale, jagged mouth manifested directly over the emergency device. Before Izuku's finger could descend, the mouth clamped down, its teeth sinking into Izuku's own flesh and the plastic casing of the beacon.
"No shortcuts, Golden Child," Yoshi hissed through the hand-mouth. "Fight or fail. I'm not letting you call the cavalry."
"WHY?!" Izuku screamed aloud, the agony of the bite and the betrayal making his eyes sting with tears.
He rushed forward again, his vision blurring, trying to put himself between Stain and his friend. But as he lunged, a sudden, sharp snick echoed through the alley. A short sword, thrown from the roof above, pierced straight through the top of Izuku's foot, pinning him to the wooden floor of a small loading dock.
The pain was a white-hot explosion. Izuku collapsed, his body finally locking up as Stain landed softly behind him.
"I won't kill you," Stain said, his voice almost respectful as he looked down at the pinned boy. "You are a true seed. But these two..." He turned toward Iida, whose eyes were wide with a pathetic, helpless terror. "This one came here for revenge. He used his not even gained yet title to hunt like a common murderer. He is the greatest sin of all."
Iida tried to speak, but only a spray of crimson foam left his lips. He was shaking, pleading with his eyes.
Izuku felt a wave of absolute worthlessness wash over him. He was the successor to All Might. He was the "Champion." And yet, he was pinned to the floor, his secret ally had sabotaged his only hope for help, and his best friend was about to be executed.
Please, Izuku whispered, his forehead pressed against the cold wood. Yoshi... I'll do it. I'll surrender. I'll give you the body. I'll go into the dark. Just save them. Please.
There was a long, agonizing silence in the back of his mind. Then, a low, dirty laugh bubbled up from the void.
"I'm not interested," Yoshi whispered, his voice sounding bored.
Stain raised his sword over Iida's neck, the steel catching the distant glow of the burning city. "Die for your sins, Ingenium."
Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sound of the blade.
BOOM.
A wall of white-hot, roaring flame erupted at the mouth of the alleyway, turning the damp air into scalding steam. The fire surged forward like a living tide, forcing Stain to leap back, his rags singeing.
Through the haze of heat and smoke, a towering figure stepped into the light. His eyes were made of turquoise fire, and his presence turned the alley into a furnace.
Endeavor.
The Number Two Hero stood at the entrance, his flames flaring with a lethal, righteous intensity. He didn't look at the students. He looked at the Hero Killer.
"So," Endeavor growled, the ground beneath his boots beginning to melt. "I finally found the rat."