Chapter Text
“Sword of Damocles; grant me 1,000 swords of destruction!”
“Sword of Dios; grant me 1,000 swords of justice!”
High above Izuku, a thousand white swords materialized, while a thousand black swords materialized above Shigaraki. Izuku pointed the Sword of Dios at his opponent in synch with Shigaraki pointing his at him. And with that, the weapons blurred into motion. Metallic clangs resounded as sword after sword clashed, neither side allowing the other to pass.
This parrying had been repeating for a while now throughout the battle. They had started at 100 swords each, only for Shigaraki to double the number then next round, jump to 500, and then double it once more. Izuku has been forced to match the number each time so that he had a sword available to clash into each of Shigaraki’s own. The two weapons would dissipate out of existence upon being countered.
Izuku himself blurred into motion as well, appearing directly before Shigaraki to strike. The white Sword of Damocles parried Izuku’s black with a weak stance. Something he quickly took advantage of to brush Shigaraki’s swing out wide. His smile felt a little mean as he commented, “For all you wanted a dramatic sword fight, it doesn’t seem like you’ve actually practiced fighting with a sword that much. This a specialty of mine, you know!”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t been able to do this stuff for very long. So I make up for it in other ways– ” was all Shigaraki scoffed before he swung in full. This time, the Sword of Damocles was overlayed with the bright white light of one of Shigaraki’s quirks. When Izuku parried, he felt the heat of it try to sear through his blade and he had to swiftly bat it away before the heat got too intense. If the Sword of Dios had been a normal weapon, it likely wouldn’t have held up against the quirk.
While Shigaraki was focused on Izuku, Mirio-senpai tried to take advantage by swiftly moving to attack from behind. Only for the upperclassman to have to swerve in his path to avoid the black mist that sprung up before him, a portal leading to who knows where. Kurogiri was summarily distracted from diverting Mirio when the man was forced to lean back to avoid the heavy weight of one of Sir’s stamps flying past his head.
It was only a slight moment, but it granted Mirio the split second he needed to close in on Shigaraki. Upon the white sword turning his way, Black Whip was quick to wrap around the weapon in a tense hold. It wasn’t enough to keep Shigaraki in place, however, when the man just blurred away to avoid the One for All infused punch and black blade to the gut.
Mirio frowned at the loss of offense, but Izuku’s gaze shifted to a more important factor of this battle. With Shigaraki having moved closer towards their previous side of the arena while they were now closer to where he’d started, the heroes were closer to the Child Broiler’s panel.
In a dash, Izuku blurred in front of the mechanical disaster, and prepared for the long siege– “Divine Protection!”
A circle of light surrounded him along with the Child Broiler’s panel for a brief flash, before it died off. From where he was standing beside Kurogiri, Shigaraki outright pouted at him. “Seriously? You can’t even use that thing!”
“Yes, but now as long as I stand guard, you can’t use it either.”
“You can’t hold that line forever– ”
“Sword of Dios; grant me 2,000 swords of justice!”
“Again already?! Fine– Sword of Damocles; grant me 2,000 swords of destruction!”
Double the number of swords clashed together once more to create even more cacophony. At the same time, Mirio dashed forward to clash his Black Whip with Shigaraki’s sword. This time along with his parry, Shigaraki released a burst of flames only for Mirio to douse them with his Heaven’s Rain. Black portals shimmered in and out of existence as Kurogiri fought Sir Nighteye, attempting to push the man through only for his attacks to be evaded at every step.
“You are quite good at foreseeing my actions…” the now pink-haired man said with a bit of a huff.
Sir just sighed right back, unimpressed, “I don’t need to see the future to know how you’ll move next. You’re not used to personal combat yourself, are you. I see right through your movements just fine.”
While he spoke, though, Sir was forced to leap to the side to avoid a stray black sword that rained down from above. Shigaraki yelled just a bit too cheerfully, “We’ll just need to increase the level difficulty if it’s too easy for you to see through then, right?! Don’t forget that this is a team battle!”
“You can say that again!” Mirio laughed back as he jumped out of the way. One of Izuku’s white swords had been left in the clear due to Shigaraki using up one of his, and it rained down from above to strike at Shigaraki. The man just barely swung his overlayed Sword of Damocles above his head in time to parry. It melted right through the thing.
When Mirio came from behind this time, Shigaraki shifted himself over just enough to let the blow graze him. In exchange it provided him the chance to take a hold of Mirio’s elbow. The boy hissed while swiftly lashing out with Black Whip, forcing Shigaraki to let go before Decay could do further damage. He was left with a cracked and bleeding arm while Shigaraki held a hand against his now likely heavily bruised shoulder.
While this was going on, Izuku quickly inspected the machine now that he was closer to it. Unfortunately while they had been referring to it as a control panel, there were no actual controls on this portion of the Child Broiler. It was likely that whatever way Shigaraki was able to manipulate it required him using All for One. Placing his own hand on the machine proved that Izuku himself couldn’t reach in to take the Fruit of Fate out himself either, despite being able to see them.
This time Shigaraki was the one to point his weapon to the sky and declare first, “Sword of Damocles; grant me 5,000 swords of destruction!”
Are they really just going to keep increasing ammo like this? He’s never called this many out before. Not even Momoka had when she had been using his body. “Sword of Dios; grant me 5,000 swords of justice!”
The clashing of metal became even louder. There were so many swords, it was impossible to keep track of it all. As they struck each other, they would sometimes veer off any which way, falling to piece the Dueling Arena beneath at random. When one headed in his direction, the lightening of Divine Protection vaporized it in an instance. Kurogiri however was able to open a portal above his head to accept any strays, and promptly send them all off through the other end aimed towards Mirio and Sir. Sir evaded behind Mirio, allowing his student to block the attacks with the lash of his Black Whip.
The battlefield was falling into chaos. And for the first time since they had reunited with this new version of Shigaraki Tomura, the man smiled at the sight of something his original personality would’ve approved. It was a nicer smile than usual, but appropriately spurred nonetheless.
“You’re really trying to find a way to control the Broiler yourself? I already told you, it’s working with All for One! My quirk is the only one that can counter or help that machine. This battle of yours was pointless from the very beginning.”
With a heavy look of consideration, Izuku eyed the strange yet familiar villain. “Perhaps… But are you truly satisfied with that, Shigaraki Tomura? The previous you would’ve raged at the idea of being the slave of this machine’s order. To think that you carry out its vision with such glee… the mighty have fallen, indeed.”
At that, he finally earned a proper sneer from the other. More swords rained upon him that this time he counted with his own, forcing them to clash before they reached the unseen barrier of his Divine Protection.
“The name’s Shimura Tenko. Didn’t I tell you that already? Hell, you were the one who first told me that name, weren’t you? Rude of you to not use it,” Shigaraki started, before the grin curled back on his face as he proclaimed, “And yeah– I am happy to be enacting the Child Broiler’s vision! It’s the thing that fixed me, after all! Shimura Tenko has become an existence that can be loved now. Is that not something I should be happy about?”
Wind rush around the man as a One for All punch was unleashed. Despite his bantering, Shigaraki was still paying attention enough to blur out of the way just in time for the attack to miss its mark. The change in air pressure did take out all swords that had been in motion direction above the area, though. Whether they be Shigaraki’s or Izuku’s.
Izuku internally cursed as Shigaraki’s grin went even wider, his sword pointing back into the sky to call upon more. The villain truly was trying to make it literally rain with these blades.
“Sword of Damocles; grant me 10,000 swords of destruction!”
“Sword of Dios; grant me 10,000 swords of justice!”
That’s more twenty thousand swords in total, now. They won’t be able to keep up this doubling rate. There wasn’t enough room, not in the sky and not even in the Dueling Arena itself. Izuku had hopelessly lost track of his own materialized swords, someone with even less experience like Shigaraki had no hope of tracking his own. He could hardly hear anything over the incessant clanging of metal, like unharmonious bells that refused to stop ringing.
The strays lost to fall upon the ground counted in the hundreds, this time. Kurogiri was forced to move beside Shigaraki to defend man from his own chaos, summoning a large portal above the both of them to take in the raining mix of black and white. The other end of the portal aimed at Sir and Mirio was a significantly bigger problem now that its ammo had increased.
Rather than try to take them all with Black Whip and potentially miss some, Mirio instead heaved a roaring double fisted crash into the ground of the arena. The attack displaced the surface enough to force a wide tip out of the ground and curve around, allowing both heroes to take cover.
The swords straying Izuku’s way either met their fate at the ends of his own blades or were struck by his Divine Protection. One more use, and he knew he would have to reload his spell.
“Finally we made it up this– What in the name of One for All is with all these damned swords?!”
Gran Torino’s grand reentrance was cut short as the man was forced to jet to the side to avoid the hazardous metallic rain. Shouta-sensei who was being held underneath the much shorter man’s arm in an absurd image did not look pleased with the maneuvering. The retired hero was wise enough to dash over to one of the sides with stands to duck underneath them. Izuku hoped they would take shelter under one of the higher ends, since the force of the swords would likely be enough to cut into the seats.
Still, it seemed they positioned them in a spot that Shouta could still see out of, if the way Shigaraki’s overlayed quirk cut out was any indication. The man pouted at the sight of the plain Sword of Damocles –if a sword that could summon thousands of other swords could even be considered plain– left in his hand.
From the area they were now hidden, Gran Torino called out with urgency, “Deku, is there anything you can do take Shigaraki out of commission at least for a while? We need to speed things up!”
Izuku glanced over at the direction of the elder’s voice, incredulous. “If I had an easier way to do this I wouldn’t be summoning ten thousand swords– ”
“Sword of Damocles; grant me– ”
“You can’t be serious– Fine! Sword of Dios; grant me 20,000 swords of justice!”
“Well, isn’t this a nice little runaway train wreck of a fight…” Gran Torino huffed loudly.
The sky around them was fully blotted out in black and white. Shining blades fell like shooting stars streaking through the air, only rather than being a sight of beauty, it was more reminiscent of an executioner’s guillotine. Thousands of them.
Upon realizing they’d officially reached the threshold of how many swords is too many, Mirio promptly swept Sir off his feet to book it for Izuku’s corner. The villains were also forced onto the defensive. He heard Kurogiri curse, likely attempting to use his quirk to repeat their strategy of redirecting swords only to be thwarted by Shouta-sensei.
Steel was already raining down by the time Izuku was free to set several layers of his Divine Protection spell. Shigaraki, clearly learning from Izuku’s example, set his own protective spell for his and Kurogiri’s protection. But not before a white blade struck Kurogiri through the arm that had been raised over his head, defending his head. Kurogiri didn’t react much to the pain, only sneering at the mess of red coating his upper arm, but Shigaraki startled with alarm at the sight. However, he was then distracted once he realized he needed to reset his Divine Protection repeatedly to counteract so many attacks.
While Mirio was able to clear out the majority of the swords that would’ve struck him or Sir with the swipe of an One for All punch, a black blade still managed to spear through the boy’s left shoulder. Mirio set Sir down with a wince, the man immediately moving to check his ward’s injury. After a couple of seconds examining both the wound entrance and exit, as well as the copious amount of blood dripping down Mirio’s arm, Sir turned to Izuku with a serious look. “Once we remove the intrusion there’s a good chance he’ll lose enough blood to fall unconscious. His arm’s attachment to his shoulder is also rather… precarious now. Is your healing proficient enough to take care of this?”
Izuku nodded, but scowled with concern as he also admitted, “It can heal that, yes, but– he should really avoid using the arm while its being healed. And it’s not an immediate thing, the process takes some time depending on the extent of the injury.”
Thankfully their opponents were preoccupied with the bombardment enough that they were free to start first aid. Izuku couldn’t dissipate this sword himself since it had been summoned by Shigaraki’s Damocles, so with a heavy hand and grimace, Sir grabbed hold of the handle to pull it out of Mirio with a rather unnerving, wet sound. Mirio couldn’t withhold his curse of pain, even as Izuku went straight to hovering over the wound to intone his “Behold the Gift from God”. White flowers bloomed from within the scarlet, a soft green glow contrasting the violent image. As they began to dye themselves in red, Mirio managed to bite out, “Even if it’s the left arm I don’t think I can get away with not using it! We’ve only been able to keep a stalemate this whole time– If I start flagging, things will tip in their favor soon!”
He was right. Nighteye knew that too, a stoney look came over him as he stated, “Indeed. However, there is nothing we can do about that matter, as it is. Unless our Prince here happens to have a spell that involves reversing time?”
The glare of glasses glanced Izuku’s way at that, as though Sir was actually asking if he could time travel, which was… not too far off a thing to consider, when thinking of everything else he can do. But still, not something he could do.
“Unless Momoka has a spell that she hasn’t told me about– ” And doesn’t that idea trail a shudder down his spine. It wouldn’t be too out of character of her to casually not mention a spell with that huge of a power. “ –no, I can’t. We… We need to find a way to change the state of the battle.”
Even as he stated the obvious, though, it was easier said than done. The sky was finally starting to clear of black and white, revealing more and more of the crystal dome that covered this world.
Looking up at the ceiling of his Crystal World, Izuku imagined it for just a split second. A mental image of the dome breaking, the shell of his world breaking, unleashing itself upon the world outside. It once seemed so isolated and separated from reality. A wonderland that was never meant to mingle with the monotony that was the rest of society’s trappings. Would Shigaraki Tomura be able to break that barrier? Would he really do the impossible, and use the impossibility inherent to this fictional place that had been imagined by the mind of a young child to impose his own order upon the Earth? To interrupt fate’s order, the destiny it had ordained for all these unloved people. A survival strategy of a different kind. More all-encompassing than anything Momoka had made for herself.
Perhaps, they would prefer that. Fate had been so very unkind to these children after all. Of course they would wish for it to be changed. But even so… even so…
Despite the words having been said to him long ago, Izuku still recalled them well enough to recite, “I realized one morning that I hate this world. This world is made of countless boxes. People bend and stuff their bodies into their own boxes, and they stay there for the rest of their lives. And eventually, inside the box, they forget. What they looked like. What they loved. Who they loved. That’s why I’m getting out of my box.”
Even before he lowered his gaze from the last remaining shining streak in the sky, Izuku could feel the weight of Shigaraki’s stare on him. He met it easily. For the first time, he allowed himself to truly examine the changes that had been imposed on this person. What was once a bitter, biting villain of faded white now had a healthy head of black hair. A soft face, with soft eyes that stared at Izuku like he was seeing a ghost of the past. The ruminating man beside him looked like a different being entirely compared to the black mist that used to define him.
Perhaps, many people would say they looked better this way. That they behaved better this way; despite their clashing Shigaraki had yet to attempt a lethal blow or steal a quirk. But even so… Even with his own lack of empathy for this enemy of his, Izuku found that he wished Shigaraki had never been changed.
“You were the one who told me that, remember? You were speaking of All for One’s beliefs, but you believed in them too. You can’t be happy like this. Not really. Not when a machine has trapped you entirely into its box, one that’s much too small for you. You’re suffocating inside that box. You’ve already forgotten everything about yourself, and you don’t even know it. They’ve killed you and you don’t even know it. Is there really no part of you, not a single piece, that wants to break out of that box, Shigaraki Tomura?”
Izuku knows he has a way with words. He’s been able to change minds and cast doubt onto people’s ideals with what should be much less convincing arguments than this. The Shigaraki Tomura of before, even with all his instinctual spitefulness and reluctance to agree with anything anyone had to say, would have immediately agreed with him on this point.
But the Shigaraki he was faced with right now was an entirely different being, a person reassembled piece by piece in the most unnatural way. Izuku recognized as soon as the man’s soft gaze hardened that he would not be moved.
“How many times do I have to tell you… It’s Shimura Tenko now– ”
A blur bounded in from the side, the image just barely comprehensible enough for Izuku to see a hand reach out to brush its fingertips across Shigaraki’s back.
It was an entirely unexpected move. Not just because of the surprise entrance, but also because Divine Protection was still in place. However, since they hadn’t approached with a harmful intent, they were allowed to pass through. Though Shigaraki likely didn’t know enough about the spell to have realized that caveat. The man instantly startled, jolting into a swerve to glance behind himself. But the figure was already gone by then, having rushed past only to halt its momentum in front of the trio of heroes.
All their eyes went wide with shock at the sight of Gentle, the showboating kinda-villain that Izuku had stopped from breaking in UA –why was he even here???– placing down Monoma Neito, of all the people that could have arrived as backup.
And then Izuku realized that Monoma’s hand had been the one he’d seen touch Shigaraki, and cold air hissed through his teeth in a sharp intake.
“W-Wait! Monoma, don’t– ”
“Nice quirk you got there,” Monoma drawled with his most annoying smirk, completely ignoring Izuku as his eyes swept from the machine behind them –from the Fruit of Fate which he could now see, because it was already too late– back over to where Shigaraki was staring at the new players with a confused sort of shock.
“Mind if I borrow it?”
In synch with his provocation, a familiar, red-black tendril of All for One burst out to grab onto the golden stemmed rotten core that Izuku knew was Shigaraki’s. Shigaraki was so shocked by the sight, he failed to react in time when it then swung around in a dark blur to spear the thing right into the villain’s chest.
“Tomura!” Kurogiri cried out, the still bleeding man rushing to clutch Shigaraki from behind to stop him from falling back. But it was already too late.
With a gasping breath, hand clutching his chest, Shigaraki Tomura’s black hair faded into a shock of white. The three metallic fingers of his left hand dissolved into glass-like shards, leaving only the thumb and index finger left.
However, the relief Izuku should have felt from seeing that change was mudded by still breathless shock as he stared at the now golden stem of Monoma’s Fruit. “Monoma… what have you done? You– You won’t get away with this without being punished– ”
“Why the f*ck would I care about something like that now?!”
Izuku jolted back at the sudden peak in aggression, staring back at the sneering glare Monoma pierced him with. One that, for all Monoma tended to sneer at others, seemed almost uncharacteristically hostile compared to what it should’ve been. “The final boss needed to be defeated immediately! You don’t have time to be testing mechanics on him– Todoroki Shouto is DEAD!”
Just like that, whatever air he had left in his lungs emptied into a void. Cold and dark and crushing, enclosing on him from all sides.
Like the world itself was collapsing, dying. Love itself dying. As fleeting and fragile as a cut rose left to wither in a vase.
“That’s enough, Monoma.” He hadn’t noticed until Shouta-sensei was moving in front of him, carefully pushing Monoma back to make room, that his teacher had emerged from his defensive position. He grasped Izuku by both shoulders to lean forward and force Izuku’s eyes to refocus onto him, expression like one cast in stone. “Don’t panic. They only recently informed me of Todoroki’s condition. We still have time.”
Staring at his teacher’s missing eye, Izuku was reminded of what had happened to him. Of exactly what the Prince of the Crystal could do. And it was only then that he forced himself to take a breath, not having even realized that he’d stopped in the first place and had starved his lungs of air.
“Kurogiri…”
Their attention was suddenly drawn back to duo they’d been in battle with. Kurogiri was kneeling on the ground now, resting Shigaraki in his arms with Shigaraki looking up at him with a sleepy half-lidded gaze. Even through his weariness, the older man tensed under that look.
“Sir… Don’t– I like it better this way– ”
The whispered plea was cut off by the flash black reaching past the heroes to take a core from within the machine. The tendril retreated just as fast to strike through Kurogiri’s chest.
Kurogiri folded over himself in pain, both hands clawing into their hold on Shigaraki as flesh dissolved into inky mist. It seemed to take more out of him than the process had for Shigaraki. He fell over into a heap, presumably unconscious.
“That damn waste of space… piece of junk… thinks it can control me… me and Kurogiri, and get away with it? What absolute f*cking bullsh*t…”
Pulling himself away from the other’s dead weight, Shigaraki started towards them in a crawl before he was able to get himself on his feet. Izuku was the one to stick his arm out in front of Mirio, who had been in the middle of shifting into action, allowing the villain to approach. Because with the return of the true Shigaraki Tomura, he knew exactly what the man would do…
They all took a step back when Shigaraki fully approached the Child Broiler. He lunged forward, both arms raised high. Then brought two fists down onto the metal in an echoing thud that inexplicably sparked electricity throughout the thing. His teeth were bared in a scowling hiss, “ –If you think you can kill me, I’ll kill you first!”
The flash of dancing electric energy seemed to travel throughout the machine. Permeating into the air around it, the ground of the Dueling Area, and down the Tower itself. Despite looking hazardous, neither the people present nor the Fruit of Fate within seemed to be affected.
After about half a minute, Shouta raised a hand to the communicator piece in his ear to listen to whoever was speaking on the other end. “…They’ve reported that the conveyer belts have stopped running.”
With that revelation, there seemed to be a shared, internal breath of relief shared amongst the heroes. However, the tension didn’t quite fully dissipate either.
The battle and war had been won. The Child Broiler could no longer function without Shigaraki’s will. But they hadn’t reached a happy ending. Not yet.
“ …I refuse to apologize for any of this. And I’m not gonna thank any of you, either. You’re lucky our interests align this time.” If he’d been in a better mood, Izuku would’ve just rolled his eyes at Shigaraki’s sullenness. But as it was, if the villain pushed too hard, Izuku will be too easily tempted into summoning one last sword to spear through the man’s gut.
Shigaraki ignored the narrowed glares sent his way to look only at Izuku. He was scowling still, but the way the corners of his mouth pulled taunt into a heavier expression made Izuku think the guy wasn’t as blasé about the circ*mstances as he was projecting. He jerked his head in a sharp aimless gesture towards somewhere far off from this place. “Go leave to do what you need to, Midoriya Izuku. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve undone every damn thing this f*cker made me do, and surely some of these hero NPCs are at least useful enough to start cleaning up the mess.”
Izuku blinked at the other in a blank sort of surprise, before he promptly decided to take Shigaraki’s word for it because he didn’t have the time not to, so– Within the next second or two, Izuku cast the appropriate spell to manifest a mirror in front of him to take him to where he needed to go. From next to him Mirio pat his shoulder with a tense nod. “You go ahead, Deku. Gran Torino, Sir, and I will stay to help– ”
“Hold on. No– don’t look at me like that!” Shouta dismissed the piercing danger of Izuku’s narrowing eyes to level him with a serious look. “You’re planning to use your own life, aren’t you? Don’t do that. I won’t let you, not when you have other options available.”
Right as Izuku opened his mouth to argue, he realized what, exactly, his teacher had said.
With another blink, he closed his mouth. Then opened it again to say, “Well… I guess that works, too.”
A wave of his hand switched the current mirror before him to one leading somewhere else. Without another word, he stepped through into a snow-covered land. Shouta stepped through right after him.
The Penguin Exhibit featured considerably more people than it usually did. He recognized a couple of his classmates scurrying about to collect the still unconscious people, but rather than look to them, he marched straight to where Dabi was standing in front of Gang Orca.
The patch-work villain looked pale, shellshocked. The hero had likely just delivered the news of what had happened to Shouto. It was awful, but also convenient on Izuku’s end since that meant there was less he needed to explain. Dabi glanced over as he approached, still wide-eyed with an empty gaze.
“If you’re willing to exchange some of your life for your brother’s, come with me.”
Dabi’s eyes went even wider. After a brief couple of seconds to comprehend the situation, they narrowed severely. And that was all that needed to be said for him to immediately turn towards Izuku and follow him through another mirror.
“Let Us Share… the Fruit of Fate.”
The mirror broke as they passed through it, falling around them in glittering shards. Next thing they knew, they were standing on a white platform. Reminiscent of one in downtown Tokyo waiting to board the monotonous commuter line. The Train of Fate was at the station, ready to depart.
The train only had its single passenger car attached to the car holding the engine. In the driver’s area, Izu-pingu was already at the controls, acting as the train conductor preparing for boarding. The front car was at the end of the track, and the rails trailed off into the distance backwards to reach the edge of the crystal dome, and beyond.
“Once you get on this train, you must not get off until we have returned to the Crystal World. If you get off before then, your Fruit of Fate will be lost, and you will die. Do you understand this?” After Dabi looked away from his examination of the train to give a somewhat hesitate nod, Izuku led the way onto the train without another word, red cloak bellowing behind him like the curtain of a grand stage. Shouta-sensei and Dabi both followed behind him in somber silence.
The car jolted and began to move backwards. Gaining speed until it was at full throttle, the world outside blurred as they approached the wall marking the border of the Crystal World. They passed through the wall as if there was nothing there. All that was left surrounding them was pitch black darkness. Izuku knew that if they took even one step into it, they would fall into oblivion and be lost forever.
As they traveled through the dark, Izuku thought to himself that it felt appropriate for Aizawa Shouta to be here. The very first soul Izuku used this train to change fate for. Something about this trip felt different than all the rest. Even though he’d cared for many of the people he’d saved, even though it had been such a sad, despairing fate that they’d died, this time… was heavier. The weight of it hung in the air. And of course it would feel as such, Todoroki Shouto is the person he’s in love with. But even considering that circ*mstance there was something else, too. More than just the tolling of the funeral bell. Fate hung heavy in the air, waiting with anticipation of what was to come.
Emerging from the dark, a small, abandoned train car that looked exactly like their own came into view. Soon, they were right next to it. The cars attached together in a click below, and they moved closer. All the way until the car was directly connected to theirs. Only once that occurred did the Prince of the Crystal open the door and gesture for the other two to enter.
The lighting in the car was darkened, like a bedroom at night. Only a single dim spotlight to partially illuminate the area. It shined down on the center of the car, where a rose pink bed lay. Within the soft cushions and plush pillows was the red and white hair of Shouto. Izuku heard Dabi take a hiss of a breath at the sight.
Shouto looked at peace– eyes gently shut, face relaxed, hands folded over his stomach. He really did look like a sleeping prince, waiting for true love’s first kiss. But still, Izuku wished he’d never had to lay sight upon the other like this.
“It’s time, Todoroki Touya.”
A black gloved hand took hold of Dabi’s chin. His head was forced to turn away from Shouto to lean forward and look into the Prince of the Crystal’s eyes. Izuku’s right hand disappeared into the villain’s chest. When Izuku pulled it out, it held a glittering apple. Glittering not just in gold, but a burning, red fire that streaked throughout its surface.
Considering the actions that had led Todoroki Touya to this moment, Izuku mused that it was likely the condition of this Fruit of Fate had actually improved from what it once was. Surely, at one point in time, it was likely consumed entirely by flame. Just as his father’s had been.
“Todoroki Touya… you are a villain, of that there is no doubt. But while your own decisions are what led you down your path, you are a victim of circ*mstance as well. A victim of fate. The brother you wish to save is one you’ve hurt, one you’ve felt bitterness and envy towards, but he is one you love, as well. It’s because you love him that everything had hurt so much, just as your love for your father hurt you.”
Dabi’s Fruit floated up into the air from Izuku’s palm, spinning around its axis of its own accord. Dabi’s gaze fell half-lidded, eyes both somehow filled with fire and an empty void at the same time. Like an ice blue flame burning cold instead of hot.
“There is no doubt that fate was unkind to you. To be chosen only to become unchosen upon a whim. You were filled with burning rage. You were filled with cold despair. You destroyed both yourself and your life, and there was nothing left for you but ash. However, despite everything, even with fate working against you… You found your way back to love.” Izuku turned away slightly, looking back at the sleeping Shouto again before finding Dabi’s ice blue eyes once more.
“And that’s why you are here, now, to save someone that you love. There is no way to change what your life was up to this point, but this… as the Prince of the Crystal, I can change this.”
The Prince spread the fingers of his right hand apart, and the Fruit of Fate split in half with a crack. Dabi hissed under his breath at the feeling of it. Izuku didn’t even look at the pieces as he plucked one from the air with his right hand, and with his left hand still holding Dabi’s face, placed it back within his chest.
The Prince of the Crystal plucked Dabi’s Fruit of Fate from the air, grasping it tight with his fingers. Then, he moved to stand beside Shouto’s bed. Izuku leaned down over the bed to cradle the side of his beloved’s face, the side marred by his scar.
The spotlight was just over the two of them– Izuku in his regal crown and wear, Shouto’s peaceful face and sleep. And in his heart he knew, this was when the prince charming of the story would awaken his beautiful prince.
But the not all the pieces were ready yet. There was one more thing that was needed, that Izuku just couldn’t do without…
With his right hand, the Prince of the Crystal reached into his own chest. He ignored his teacher’s curse as he pulled out his own Fruit of Fate.
Bright, golden, beautiful– It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it was his greatest treasure. Greater than the Penguindrum itself, even, because it represented the gift of life that was granted to him by his dad. The Fruit and its golden stem represented the way his fate had been changed. It was something that Izuku knew, more than anything else, he could not give away lightly. It hovered above his palm, spinning round, round, and round, ever circling just as the Earth and everything upon it.
And this was not a light decision. It was heavy, heavy as the air and the funeral bell and the fate that surrounded it all. That’s why he spread the fingers of his right hand apart, and the Fruit of Fate split apart, one quarter separate from the rest. Izuku didn’t react as he felt it echo through his being.
His fourth of a Fruit rose to join the other half, the two pieces circling round and round in eternal orbit. With just as much ease, Izuku slipped the rest of his Fruit of Fate back inside his chest.
“Half’s not enough– I need more time. And this way, we’ll match.”
His face was directly over Shouto’s and for just another moment, once again, he was taken by the other’s beauty. He thought of when he fell in love at the first sight of this boy’s Fate. He thought of their dance in the ballroom, cast in the light of candles lit by Shouto’s fire. He thought of the feeling of Shouto’s lips on his own. He thought of the way Shouto looked when he cried, tears as heartbreaking as they were radiant.
Izuku thought of Shouto, and he knew without a doubt, this was the right decision. However he was punished. Whatever fate had in store. It would all be worth it, for this boy he loved more than any other.
The Prince’s red cloak started blowing up around him as though wind was running through the train. Gently at first, growing more vigorous over time. The pieces of the Fruit of Fate in his hand gave off a glowing light that was eventually so bright, it was like he was holding a small sun in his hand. It outshined even the spotlight, illuminating the entirety of the previously dim train car. It cut its way through the darkness of the void around them.
He laid the Fruit of Fate tight against Shouto’s chest, but they would not pass through. Not yet. Instead, it shined over the both of them like a holy light from heaven.
“I… have nothing else to say. No words. No sentiment. Only this…” The Prince of the Crystal closed his eyes, leaning down so close to Shouto’s face, their noses brushed against one another, and his curls mixed into hair of red and white. “ …Please wake up, my prince.”
And with that last soft whisper of words, Izuku closed the gap to press his lips into Shouto’s.
As their hearts were connected once more, his right hand and the Fruit of Fate within its grasp slipped into Shouto’s chest. It lit up the inside of it like a star had taken the place of his soul. The red cloak fluttered and fanned around the two princes, acting as the back curtain to the performance playing out under the eyes of fate. The dark shadow of Shouto’s dead Fruit swirled together with the two spots of golden light, circling like Yin and Yang. An endless cycle of dark and light. Of death and life. Of the stagnation and changing of destiny.
The lights spread into the black spot, igniting life where there was once death. Once all the black vanished, the light stopped spinning, now casting the image of a star resting in Shouto’s chest. Shouto’s Fruit of Fate was golden and alive once more, now simply missing one-fourth of its whole.
All at once, the light dimmed until there was nothing left. The room had once again become dim with only the two of them being clearly lit. At the same time, the bellowing of the red cloak slowly died, and it floated down to rest once more at the Izuku’s back and on his shoulders. Only then did he remove his hand from Shouto’s chest. However, he did not lean away, still kissing the other’s soft lips. His hand moved up to cradle his love’s face.
From the controls of the train, Izu-pingu clapped in his place. The train started moving again. This time heading forward.
Shouto groaned, but stopped when he realized he was being kissed, and began to kiss back. His mismatched eyes only fluttered open once Izuku finally pulled back to allow himself a breath. They just stared at each other for a moment.
Then, after he finished processing what was going on, Shouto frowned with a thought, “Did you share your Fruit with me?”
“Yes, but only a small part,” Izuku was quick to placate, smiling sheepishly with his hands up at Shouto’s narrowed look, “Most of it was taken care of by your brother. Though, I’m not sure if that’s better for you or not…”
At his mention, Dabi finally stepped up to the bedside. He’d been avoiding getting close since they’d entered. As Izuku carefully helped Shouto out of lying down to sit back up, Shouto eyed the villain in surprise. Dabi didn’t say anything, just glancing away somewhat awkwardly.
“You… You really… Why?”
“Why?” it was only at that question that Dabi was provoked into speaking. Icey eyes swerving back to Shouto, his face shifted into a slightly pained scowl. “Isn’t it obvious…? No, I guess it’s not, huh. Not after everything...”
Dabi glanced away, consideration heavy in his tone and expression. He kept his gaze to the corner of the train car as he quietly admitted, “ …I still love you, Shouto. I’ve wanted to protect you for so long, but just look at where that’s gotten us. Some big bro I am. Giving you half of my everything was just… I just had to do it. I wouldn’t have accepted it any other way.”
There was a moment of silence, before the bedsheets rustled. Dabi startled a bit when Shouto’s arms wrapped around his torso, finally drawing his eyes back down to where the other was looking up at him.
“I forgive you… I’m just happy you’re back, Touya. Thank you.”
Dabi took in a gasp of a breath, before his eyelids fell shut. With stiff arms, he moved to return Shouto’s hug. The two brothers stayed like that for some time, until the train once more came to a stop back within the Crystal World.
Izuku led the way out of the train along with Shouta-sensei, Dabi and Shouto following behind. Their footsteps echoed loudly against the platform. Izu-pingu jumped out of his spot in the front to stand beside Izuku. Once all of them made it down the steps of the platform, he felt the penguin’s wing pulling at his cloak. Izuku looked down at a pensive, feathered face. Then, somehow, he knew to glance back over his shoulder, and froze at what he saw.
The Train of Fate was breaking into pieces. Glittering shards like crystal or glass shattered bit by bit, floating up towards the heavens to fade into the aether of the world.
The other three turned to watch the sight with him. It was almost beautiful, the way the crystal shards shined with light only to dim away into nothingness in the next blink. Like fireflies so very beautiful in the night, only for their light to dim and die with their ephemeral nature. Beginning from the top of the train moving down, the contraption dissolved into these disappearing pieces.
Until the entire thing was gone. Then even platform and the train tracks themselves began to fade.
“Izuku…” Shouto murmured beside him. Izuku didn’t look back at him, too focused on committing the sight of these broken crystal shards to memory. But when his love offered his hand, he took it with his own. Holding it tight.
“…It’s okay, Shouto.”
As the very last shards finally fell into nothingness, Izuku knew what this was. He knew without having to check the Penguindrum what the punishment for the transfer of his own Fruit of Fate had been.
For some reason, it was only then that Izuku felt the warmth of tears brim in his eyes. They trailed down his cheeks to fall from his face in shining drops like crystal. His teacher’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, large and warm, but Izuku didn’t look at him either. Instead, he smiled to himself. Just a bit grateful, but just a bit sad, as well.
“Of course, fate wouldn’t want a power such as the Train of Fate to exist. It took the opportunity it had to take it away from me. But… that’s okay. Either way, I’m a hero who can change fate. It’s simply just that… this was the last station, for this train. That’s all. This was the final destination of its fate.”
It was true. The Train of Fate had done much for Izuku. It was because of its existence he was able to save the people that he had, including Shouto now. It had provided Momoka the Survival Strategy for her continued existence beyond her death. It was an integral part of the Penguindrum, that could not be denied.
But every story had its end. This was true for both the living and unliving. The doll a parent gifts to their child, the notebook a student writes his aspirations in, the diary a girl imprints her heart upon; all these things have their own story and end outside of the people they were made for, though those stories often intertwine. Just as those children will grow and die, so too with the things they loved become lost to time.
Perhaps, Izuku would have resented such a fate, once. But he’s found that as his story progresses further and further, as he comes to learn of the truth of fate, life, and the people stuck in between, he’s come to realize that… Fate can also be a fitting thing, sometimes. To know there is an end to struggle, an end to exhaustion. The end need not be thought of something made of cruelty. The end, if one believes it to be so… can be a sense of resolution. Like the love and satisfaction of closing a child’s storybook and kissing them good night.
“Sometimes I wonder, when I go into the Garden… I wonder if the flowers themselves are happy, being forced to last so long. Eternity doesn't exist in this world, does it? It's just that one could think that a heart that longs for eternity is beautiful. Maybe that’s the real reason why humans were cast out of the Garden of Eden. Eden had never been meant to last of eternity from the very start… and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
At those words, Shouto’s hand squeezes his tighter. Izuku thinks, in this moment, it would be nice if these few seconds lasted for an eternity. If their time together would last for an eternity.
But they won’t. They never will, and it was better that way. But at the same time… the thought still comes to mind. And that was okay, too.
