Present
"Hey... Dad," said Izuku, his voice cold and devoid of any warmth.
Toshinori staggered back, his heart racing. "Izuku? But... how?"
Izuku, now Ash-Born, smiled grimly. "You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?"
Toshinori's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing to make sense of the impossible sight before him. He had seen Izuku die with his own eyes, felt the thrill of satisfaction knowing the boy who had been a thorn in his side was finally gone. But now, sitting across from him, was the son he had murdered.
"I'm sure you were dead," Toshinori managed to choke out, his voice quivering. The sight of Izuku—no, this new entity—was enough to send chills down his spine. His son, the boy he had disposed of so mercilessly, was sitting here, very much alive.
Izuku chuckled, his tone laced with amusement. "Dead? That's what you wanted, isn't it? That's what you and everyone else thought happened. But everything you remember, All those moments, my death... they were nothing but illusions, Dad." His words dripped with venom, each one striking like a dagger at Toshinori's pride.
Toshinori stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to process what he was hearing. "Illusions?" he whispered, a hollow feeling forming in his gut. "You did this?"
Izuku nodded, leaning back in his chair, his face devoid of any remorse. "Yes. Every memory you have of me, every shred of guilt you thought you buried... none of it was real. It was all a projection, a trick of the mind. You never killed me, Dad. I made you believe you did because I couldn't stand living under the same roof with someone who wished I was dead."
The words hit Toshinori like a freight train. His own son had toyed with his mind, manipulated his reality to such an extent that he believed he had killed Izuku. For a brief moment, rage bubbled to the surface, but it was quickly stifled by confusion and fear.
"Why?" Toshinori's voice was shaky. "Why do all of this? Why did you manipulate me like that?"
Izuku's expression hardened, and for a moment, Toshinori saw a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. "Why did I do it?" Izuku repeated, leaning forward. "Because I could. Because after everything you put me through, after the way you treated me like a piece of garbage... I wanted you to feel what I felt. Powerless. Alone. Hated."
Toshinori felt his breath catch in his throat. There was no trace of the boy he once knew, no trace of the son he had so callously discarded. In his place stood something far more dangerous, far more cold.
"But in all seriousness, Dad," Izuku continued, his tone darkening. "I did it because I couldn't bear to live with you anymore. Not after everything. You despised me from the moment I was born. You treated me worse than a villain... worse than scum. You wished I had never been born. Isn't that right?"
Toshinori said nothing. He could only stare, his mind still grappling with the impossibility of it all. Deep down, he knew Izuku was right. He had always resented him, hated him for being weak, quirkless, useless in a world where power meant everything.
Seeing Toshinori's silence, Izuku shook his head, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You don't even have the decency to deny it, do you? You hated me, Dad. You always did. And you felt good when you thought I was gone, didn't you?"
Toshinori's silence was all the confirmation Izuku needed.
The tension in the air was palpable. Toshinori's skin prickled with fear as he realized how deeply Izuku's hatred ran. For years, he had despised his own child, but now he was face to face with the monster he had helped create.
