Quirkless Rejects

It's Too Late, Kacchan

Izuku... Mikumo... Deku...

Izu- MIKU- No, Deku. No, Izuku. It's Mikumo!

It's Izuku though! I'm Deku.

Mikumo!

Deku!

Izuku!

De- Miku- Izu- It's... It's...

"Mikumo."

I'm Deku. Wait, I'm Izuku. No, I'm Mikumo.

Izuku. It's Izuku. No no no no! Deku! It is Mikumo. No, it is Izuku.

"Mikumo."

I am Izuku. I am Mikumo. I am Deku.

Izuku... Deku... Mikumo...

Izu- Dek- Mik-

"-umo! Mikumo!"

Mikumo jolted up from his position on the... couch? He looked around. Dad was by his side at the couch with a worried look. Oh, he was at his Dad's house. His head throbbed and arm pulsed painfully. Mikumo flinched violently when something touched his arm.

"Calm down, boy." Recovery Girl, his brain helpfully supplied. He watched, dazed, as the elderly woman gently lifted his arm and unwrapped the bandage around his arm. He winced slightly. Underneath the bandage was a large scar wrapping around the bulk of his upper arm, still healing a little.

"Sunny, you've been in and out of consciousness for three days," the elderly hero said. "Sorry to have woken you but you were seeming to be having a pretty nasty dream and we couldn't have you harming yourself by tensing your muscles that I've just basically rebuilt with my quirk. I've been coming here to heal your arm after Shigaraki grabbed you, Sunny. My quirk takes up a person's energy to heal them so you have asleep for most of the time." Recovery Girl turned and grabbed a cup of water off the coffee table and gave it to Mikumo who gratefully drank it.

"We are going to keep off this bandage for now because we need to talk with you before I use my quirk again." Mikumo nodded, throat still a little dry. Dad silently took the cup, refilling it in the sink before handing it back to the greenette.

Even in his tired state, Mikumo could feel how tense everyone in the room was. What's going on? Dad sat by his side and Recovery Girl left the room. She re-emerged with someone following. I recognize that blonde hair... Ah, it's Bakugou. WAIT, WHY? Bakugou and recovery girl pulled over two kitchen chairs from the table and sat them in front of the two on the couch.

"Bakugou?" was the first word Mikumo said since waking up.

The blonde took a deep breath. "I- Izu- ku," the blonde spoke in a voice broken from unuse.

Mikumo stared. "You spoke," he deadpanned. Then he registered what Bakugou called him. "Wait, I'm not Izu-" "Y- es you a- re."

Mikumo shook his head. "You c- alled me Ka- cchan." Mikumo's eyes widened. "When?" "At the m- all."

Mikumo adverted his eyes to his lap. Dad gave his shoulder a slight squeeze. "Ok," Mikumo started, "I'll admit that at the mall, I was a little confused, but I promise you," he looked at Bakugou, "I am Mikumo Aizawa, not Izuku Midoriya." Bakugou's red eyes narrowed. "Th- en explain it to m- e." Here we go again, Mikumo couldn't help but think.

"After the sucky life that Izuku had, you contributing much to it," he took satisfaction in how the teen across from his flinched ever so slightly, "Izuku ran away, right?" Bakugou nodded. "In order to hide his identity, he created the persona's of Deku and Mikumo, aka me and the leader of the Quirkless Rejects. Over time, we kind of materialized, in a sense, and became separate consciousnesses out of Izuku's self-loathing and will to no longer be himself. At first, it was just a simple identity disorder but now the three of us consider each other as three separate people so I would appreciate it if you didn't call me Izuku, Bakugou."