Cross the Divide

Ghosts of What Could've

The massive UA campus loomed in front of them as Hawks guided Midoriya toward the entrance. It should've felt comforting, familiar even, but nothing felt right. Midoriya's skin crawled with unease as he looked up at the towering walls. This wasn't his UA.

They walked through the hallways, past classrooms that looked exactly as Midoriya remembered. It was eerie how everything seemed so normal on the surface, yet the undercurrent of loss weighed heavily in the air. Hawks hadn't said much since they'd left the streets—just the occasional glance, as though making sure Midoriya was still there, still solid.

"I know this is a lot," Hawks finally spoke as they neared the teacher's lounge. "But we'll get some answers. And... well, you'll want to prepare yourself."

Midoriya didn't have time to ask what he meant. Hawks pushed the door open, and they stepped inside.

The teacher's lounge was dimly lit, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the room. Aizawa was sitting at a table, his usual stern expression unyielding. But it was the figure beside him that made Midoriya's breath catch in his throat.

All Might.

But not the All Might he knew. This All Might was a hollow shell of the man Midoriya once admired. He sat slumped over slightly, his eyes dull and sunken with grief. His presence was still commanding, but it was weighed down by sorrow—a sorrow Midoriya couldn't fully understand but felt like a punch to the gut.

As Midoriya's eyes met All Might's, something in the air shifted. The silence was suffocating, the tension thick. Hawks had said this wouldn't be easy, but nothing could've prepared him for this moment. All Might looked at him with an expression that was somewhere between shock and agony, and for the first time in Midoriya's life, he didn't know how to face his mentor.

He wasn't his mentor here.

Aizawa's gaze flickered between Hawks and Midoriya. "So, you're telling me this is the kid from another universe? A universe where he's still alive?"

Hawks nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah. He's not our Midoriya."

The words hung in the air like a lead weight. Not their Midoriya. In this world, Midoriya wasn't a hero who had survived countless battles—he was a ghost. A memory etched into the stone of a memorial. And standing here now, alive and breathing, felt wrong in every possible way.

"He shouldn't be here," Aizawa said bluntly. "Whatever quirk caused this... it's not something we've dealt with before. He's an anomaly."

All Might hadn't said a word. His gaze remained fixed on Midoriya, his lips slightly parted as though he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. It was painful, seeing his mentor like this—so broken, so full of grief for someone who wasn't even him.

Midoriya shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the unbearable silence. But what could he possibly say? I'm not dead. Not in my world atleast. But here... I'm just a reminder of everything you lost.

"I... I didn't know," Midoriya finally whispered, his voice cracking. "I didn't know I died in this world."

He wasn't sure how he felt about it. In his world, things had turned out differently. He hadn't sacrificed himself to win the war, hadn't given everything. But this world—this version of him had. This Midoriya had been a hero in every sense of the word, and it left him with a strange mix of guilt and confusion.

Aizawa's eyes softened just a fraction. "It's not your fault."

Hawks cleared his throat. "We don't know why you're here, but we'll figure it out. We'll work with Nezu and see if we can track down the quirk that caused this."

All Might finally stirred, his voice barely above a whisper. "You... you're really him?"

Midoriya's heart clenched painfully in his chest. All Might's gaze bore into him, filled with so much sadness that it was almost unbearable to look at. He wasn't sure what to say, wasn't even sure if he could say anything that would ease the ache in his mentor's heart.

"I'm not him," Midoriya said softly, his voice shaky. "But I'm still me."

The words felt hollow. How could he possibly explain? This world's Midoriya had made the ultimate sacrifice, something he hadn't done. He didn't know how to feel about that. Was this other version of him braver, stronger? Or had he been too reckless?

All Might nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Midoriya's. There was a deep well of grief behind that gaze—grief that Midoriya wasn't sure he could ever heal. It hurt more than any injury he'd ever sustained in battle.

"We'll head to Nezu and try to make sense of this," Hawks said, cutting through the heavy silence. "We need to figure out how to get him back to his world."

Aizawa stood, and All Might slowly followed. But before they could leave the room, Midoriya glanced back at his mentor one last time. The sight of him, so broken and weighed down by loss, would stay with him for the rest of his life.

They left the teacher's lounge in silence, Hawks leading the way as Midoriya followed, his thoughts swirling in confusion and pain. He didn't know how to feel about his own survival when this world had suffered so much for his absence. But one thing was clear—this world wasn't his, and the weight of being a stranger in a place where he should've died was suffocating.