【𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 • 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐊𝐔 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑】

24| Change

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"Yes, you're right, but first," Midoriya leans forward, "they extract their quirks."

"Wh-What?" You stutter, "You're joking. That's impossible."

"Here's the science behind it," he starts to explain, "technically, after someone dies, they're not considered dead until ten minutes after their heart stops."

"Why's that?"

"Because the blood the heart pumped before it stopped is still circulating, so they're not dead. At least, not immediately."

You nod. "So how . . . why do they extract the hero's quirk? The H.H.H. is supposed to help people."

"Remember the black capsule?" Midoriya asks, searching his pockets, "I can't seem to find it now, which isn't a good thing, but I remembered what they were!"

"Oh," you chuckle nervously, "well, the thing is . . . the capsule . . . "

Before you can tell him you broke it, he continues his explanation.

"When the hero's heart stops, they're considered dead by the H.H.H., but not medically," Midoriya tells you, "their body is still living, so their quirk is still inside of them."

You tilt your head. "I still don't get how they extract the power. I've never even heard of someone doing that."

"Yeah, because they don't want people to know, duh," he says, "I don't know exactly how they do it, but I bet it's someone else's quirk."

"So what are the capsules?"

"The capsules hold the quirks the H.H.H. extracts from dead heroes."

You blink. "Why? What's the point?"

"They're extremely rare, the capsules and heroes quirks. They . . . they sell them. They sell them to the quirkless."

You suck in a breath. "Wait, wait. So that means . . . "

"That means that your brother," Midoriya says, "was buying an illegal, stolen quirk."

"Why?" You mutter, "Why would he do that? Why would Hiroto even want one? What the hell?"

You look up at the hero. The hero who faked his death. The hero who's hiding out from the world. "How do you know this? How can I be sure you're not lying?"

Midoriya furrows his brows, looking hurt. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. My brother would never. He wouldn't even be able to afford something like that."

"Listen, I know that I'm right," the freckled man explains, "I'm sure of it, because that's what they tried to do to me."

Your heart clenches. "Really? When? How'd you . . . ?"

"I-I was, well, captured," he looks away, "and then when I was recused I was brought to the H.H.H., who declared me dead. I can remember it, they way the scientists leaned over my body, their shadows shrouding my face in darkness."

You listen intently as he continues.

"They tried to take my power from me. But I think . . . I think my predecessors wouldn't let them. They fought back, somehow. It's a little blurry. Then, you came. You where there, and you left the window open."

He smiles at you.

"And I escaped."

You tilt your head. "But if you remember all this, you weren't dead, correct?"

"They lied. I was never dead, just close to it," he sighs, "I don't want to remember how I ended up that way, but every night, the memories visit me in the form of nightmares."

You stand up, sitting beside him on the counter. "Was it a villain?"

"There were multiple," he replies, "lots of them, reveling in my anguish. It changed me. They changed me."

Midoriya runs his hands through his hair, looking down. "I can't control myself sometimes. I say things I shouldn't say. I do things I never thought I would. All because of them."

"It's okay," you whisper to him, putting a hand on his back, "you can change."

"B-But there are things I've done," he stutters, "that I can't change. People will always remember the d-day I . . . "

"What is it?"

" . . . I broke Kacchan's leg," he whispers, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "I broke his leg while Ochaco and Kirishima watched. I just grabbed him . . . and I-I used my quirk, and . . . "

At first, you wonder who Kacchan is, but then you remember the story a while ago about pro-hero Dynamight breaking his leg in a mysterious accident. So that's what really happened?

Deku broke Dynamight's leg?

"A-And," he cries softly, "And I . . . I said some bad things to them. All of them, even though . . . they were trying to h-help me."

You hug him, the sobbing, shivering hero. 

"Deku," you say, knowing names are important, "I'm sure they'd understand if you talked to them. There are things beyond our control."

You both sit there, on the front counter of an abandoned store, hugging and crying in unison.

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