Chapter 39: Life After Death

It has been years ever since, too many to count if I don't use any effort to look back.

Throughout the time, many things has changed in my life.

I am now done with my daily patrolling, so I am heading to my office. It has been so long since I have seen the happy smile of my partner, Hatsume Mei, after creating her new piece. She is a very talented woman for her astonishing creations and outstanding imagination. When I first met her in high school, she had about eighty-seven machines and robotic structures in which he referred them as "her babies." She is very extroverted and open, but sometimes her personality might be too hard to reach out to because she can be spasmodic. Although I was lucky enough to get comfortable around her, I still am a little shy despite being romatically together for two years.

Five years ago lives the historical event in the hero industry, the year in which I strongly thrive to rennovate. So many errors and mistakes were committed because of one's own ignorance, and now they can not be undone no matter how much it taunts me every day. Even if it was a difficult despair to tolerate, when Kacchan was imprisoned for good, All Might acknowledged my will. He said that being quirkless yet filled with ambitious hope could only take me so far, and that I needed to be put in the ring as well.

He asked for me to keep a secret, and transferred to me an amazing quirk called One for All. It is passed by generation to generation, so he decided to choose me as his successor in order to pursue this unique ancestry. At the time, I could not really believe it, though All Might tried to prove it with his true skeleton form, and the mark on the side of his stomach that affected his lungs in a disastreous villain fight.

However, since there were signs of trauma and unstability in me in the aftermath, it only took three months for me to start training my body. I attended therapy in which helped resolve my supposed emotional issues, although were not as severe. Some were mostly related with my correlation and interaction with social bonds. Others were my position to differ what was correct and was not, or how emotions were expressed. I was treated with cognitive-behavioral therapy, and a variety of others that are concerned to that field.

During the time that I was slowly yet productively recovering, I realized two things. If only I had never been too simple-minded from the world, I would have had it simple to trust the right people, and that emotional treatment was essential and definite. Maybe it was awe or pity, but for that period I had never been any better. I felt like a different person with a new goal set in mind. Feeling as refreshed as if I had the capacity beyond what I could reach and discover. I was a brand new achiever, but that dark side of me from my youth was still awaken.

Could not have been more fortunate than to be accepted and forgiven by Masura and Mitsuki. I would have not had anywhere else to go if it weren't for them. Their prosperity and kind generosity was worth more than any luxury. It showered me with absolute relief when they proposed to care for me, but that enormous guilt haunted me in the decision phase. I continously apologized before living underneath their roof, reminding how I was the reason to their son's fate. How would I ever live comfortably when I was the cause to these problems? It felt horrible. I almost rathered live damped in the streets than ungratefully be welcomed by their parental warmth.

Lucky again, the procedure went smoothly. I was legally approved to live with them, but not under their name. It was then that I was convinced superstition was vivid. Mitsuki's company went bankruptcy after the customer's were told that I, Midoriya Izuku, was maintained by them. She and Masaru had lost their jobs, so they were forced to look for other opportunities. It was such a misery that their lucrative hitherto went in vain, so painful that we suddenly lived in poor conditions. It was not as bad since the main requirements could be bought (nutrition, water, electricity, taxes, bills), but it was so restrained that major purchases were a challenge.

Despite the struggles, I endevoured to live without regrets. I tried to be the best son I could to Mitsuki and Masaru, because I knew how empty it felt to lose a child. I lost a mother, so I merely used that emotional drought to a certain measure. Until this day, I think they knew what my intents over my overly appreciated attitude consisted. I once noticed Mitsuki crying after I called her "Mom," same reaction when I called Masaru "Dad." For me, it was additionally a difficult step to take since a slight portion of it felt like a replacement of my truthful mother.

The moment I moved into the same house, I was met with a heavy load of déja vù. "That was where Kacchan sat, that was where he and his friends played at," is what I recollected. The feeling of those memories still are treasured; no matter how sully they were, memories were always long-lasting diamonds. I noticed the room underneath the stairs, the one I stayed at to sleep in. Going up, I passed Kacchan's room, in which I discreetly entered without anyone glancing. I would have expected even the tiniest change in furniture, but every element was in place.

The spacious warmth and scent diffused. Those blankets were as tidy as Kacchan's ardour. Nothing had changed; Mitsuki and Masaru still had not gotten over their loss.

It was a tormentation I had to leave in an instance. I did not bother looking thoroughly. By just reflecting events that once took place inside his room, from the start to the end, it made me my stomach curl. I felt his touch, I heared his voice. He was an addiction I was yet to overcome, considering how much of an impact it imprinted.

Of course it was also a pain to go outside and mitigate from being mocked off. People spat in my face, kicked me down to the floor, and said cruel things to me; all because I was a criminal who deserved to go to jail. Yes, I might had required to attend further medical treatments like in a hospital, but it was not my choice for pursuit. If the jury said I had no medical record, then I unfortunately had none.

Nobody bothered to hear that excuse, and it was acceptable. I knew that I tainted the sidewalks with disgust and shot a distasteful image to Japan. I was composed of guilt, and endlessly called "dirty," though endured it for five years.

After my long therapy sessions, I managed to focus on my training. All Might gave me a diversed sheet that scheduled my activities, and workouts I had to do. I consented into giving my limit, since I was practically glued to the dreams of becoming a hero. Not only did my personality become more cheerful, I became positive in the tasks I was destined to complete. This was my main drive to guide me through the hardwork, until almost a year had passed and the new U.A entrance exams gave me another opportunity.

This meant that one year had passed ever since I went to receive proper education, despite being homeschooled by Masaru over the span.

When I finally finished my training, there were a few months left until the exams began. That day, hours before the exams started, I was meant to receive All Might's exceptional power. Oddly enough, in order to inherit it, I had to eat a strand of his hair. By merely proceeding that occurrence I wielded the quirk in my body, but in that time I felt no change.

In the physical exam I went aboard and beyond my proper strength, wrecking my body (mostly arm) into beating the gigantic robot that I faced once. I had a mediocre score for my saving points and action-like ones, but the judges had passed me because of how striking my quirk appeared in use.

Two weeks later, I was approved on the letter presented by All Might, and I still remember the internal joy within, feeling so grateful for my winnings and commitment. He said I deserved it for my hardwork and dedication, and that in U.A it will only go Plus Ultra. My classmates were composed of those that missed their chance in that horrofic day. This was a make-up test that promised higher chances of passing.

I glanced at my seat one day, five months after attending the academia, noticing the brown-haired girl with her incapacitated yet robotic leg. She must have passed the exams and waited for a while until she could attend. My face faltered into a wide smile, filled with delight once seeing her in a good state, then instantly feeling guilt. I remembered I was the one who left her, who was bound to live her off for dead, but luckily until then she had never brought it up.

When I went up to her, I greeted her. She seemed to have recognized me and was curiously happy to see me. Unlike the short hesitance that some classmates gave me from a friendship request, she was quick to respond. I understood that it was strange for someone as repulsive as me to make it into U.A, when I was responsible for the attacks.

Trying to not be offensive as I could, I asked how she was and everything. She replied with enthusiasm and adored interest, explaining how she managed to get in thanks to this remarkable student. Me, curious as to who this person was, asked whom she referred to. And that was when I met Hatsume Mei. My inquisition of this person's skilled talents drove me to explore the school until I found her. She was a mess as her face was soiled of smoke and oil, various explosions booming inside the room.

When I entered her occupance, I quickly understood her charismatic persona.

Now that I was one head closer to the achivement of my dream, I had to sustain that prudence of morality. One year after being in U.A, I had a new psychologist. No matter how many times I tried to search for answers, I could never find connections to the findings of my previous one. I did not have his number so it was bound to be useless, but I once heard rumours that he commited suicide during the devastating events. These were more weights to my remorse, weights that I could not suffice to lavish into worthless manner. I lived my life with guilt, but I compensated for every deed I longed to efface.

One year after graduating U.A, it also marked the relationship with my partner and the many friends I had in the experience. Todoroki, Uraraka, and Iida remain as my most trusted companions. We've been in the circle of friends initiating when the Sports Festival took place, a precious time to reveal and acknowledge everybody's quirk. Even if Uraraka's leg is incovenient, she rocked the festival by winning third place, almost beating every contestant. Todoroki won second place, and first place was gifted to another class' student.

I had never been happier, but my friends noticed my lack of realization when it comes to these careless mistakes.

There was a point I was struck to realize that half of my ultimate movements were inspired by Kacchan's attitude. His explosive personality, including his quirk; way of moving, of interacting, and dealing with villainish tasks. My understanding of him was absorbed during the process of creating a hero costume and the formation of my attacks.

When we graduated, my friends held a celebration in a hotel room. Uraraka, Mei, Todoroki, Kaminari, Tsu, and Sero gathered up on the floor. Iida and a few others could not make it, or they simply did not like the idea of "hanging out." Hatsume and I sat near each other as she had her head rested on my shoulder. The others revolved in a circular manner.

"It felt like yesterday when we were first years," Uraraka stretched her arms as she laid down on the floor, cooing her sad voice.

"Hey, at least we got over those strong villains! I almost thought I was going to die before I reached my twenties," Kaminari added, elbowing Uraraka's shoulder. We all laughed at that, and could not help but agree that we felt the same way.

"No shit! We were first years and we already had to deal with the League of Villains. Man, that group of ill-intended people and All for One are still going on! I thought they were going to weaken as time went by," Sero complained, making a churlish remark at that misunderstanding. Others agreeded as well.

"Thankfully All Might's retirement hasn't been that contributive to the villains. Nothing bad has happened for years apart from continous crimes and illegal commerce," Kaminari said. "But that doesn't mean crime isn't arising." Everybody hummed except Todoroki.

"Doesn't matter; we're Pro Heroes now, aren't we? We don't need to worry about that because we're strong now, and we can easily beat them up like Aizawa taught us," Todoroki calm yet terse voice said. Everybody laughed at his blunt saying over how simple defeating villains can be. It was not arrogance nor ignorance, it was a statement bound to become true. I had contempted my self-reflection before talking, so I said without a second mind:

"That's something Kacchan would say!"

Their laughs brutally ceased; I knew I messed up. At that moment I felt the icy shreds of sweat forming from my embarassment and shame; my smile fading away monumentally. Their stares did not look at me with such apparition that I disliked to death, but they struck with concern. Todoroki frowned, glancing at Tsu and Kaminari as he felt like it was his fault to accidently drive us to this discordance.

Mei also placed her arm around me to reassure whether I was fine, and I knew that in her position it would be awkward. To some extent, I knew they were speculating that I had not moved on. That I probably was living in the past. That I probably had him locked into my head, but it was not true. He could have been the wickest monster and most hideous beast to ever been in my life, but inevitably his mark will never fade away like the mood of that awkward meeting.

After our graduation, Mei and I rented a house to live in. We had made enough money with my occupation as a hero and the selling of her inventions. There was a point that we had to reconsider our future as a couple, because I thought we were going too fast. We were both twenty and have been together for two years, but thinking such thing of moving in together was something farther greater than a wish. Maybe I was too anxious to be alone with her, isolated in a house, but either way we ended up agreeing terms.

The day we moved in, it was a happy morning.

Mei was accepted by a famous company to sell her items and construct other new ones. I was proud of her, so I decided to arrange somewhere to celebrate. However, she playfully reminded that we had to finish packing up, so my cheeks flushed with red embarks from my forgetful mind.

We kiss almost every time, although I've never contained myself from it. Mei likes teasing me, so she fulfills me with overindulgence by telling me everyday that she loves me. I learned to be appreciated of these times, because I never realized that she is the source of my happiness.

That day when I brought in the last box labeled "Personal Belongings", I dragged it to the second floor. When I opened it, it shot me like a bullet. My yellow backpack, there it was. I forgot I had it, I forgot it existed. Let alone my red shoes, these were another semblance of memories. I took it out from the box in a messy movememt, dropping it to the floor as I knelt. It was tattered in a few sides, but was still at temporal use. When I zipped open the first zipper, my notebook laid there, the last one to survive from the fire incident.

Opening it in such fast ways, I passed every page in delight and admiration. My annotations, the words that helped me express myself in hard moments. They were all intact, still memorable as always. By skim reading the pages, I went over an odd writing style in the newest entries.

I knew it was not mine from the way it was written and the content portrayed.

"If you're reading this, Deku, it means I lost. I supposed to steal your notebook again after Monday, but I feel like someone watched us and knows my secret that I can not tell. If you find this and I have not been caught, ignore it; it was just my feint intuition."

My eyes widened as I felt my stare go blank; even my breathing did not comply to the realism of my vision. "When did Kacchan write that? Was it the time he got imprisoned for the first time? How did he know? How could he tell?" Was what I thought. It was so bizarre it felt like those words were written right there as I looked through the pages. The coincidence was massive, and I hid this last note from Mei because I did not want to give off the wrong assumption of me.

Looking up at the door frame, I speculated a shadow with the form of him. That pointy hair, the crossed arms of his and his attention. In that moment, the severity of this obsession and the inability to recover was existencial for me. It proliferated day by day, convincing me that I was unable to defeat the condition.

No matter how much I tried to run or get over his presence, I ended up hovering over the same destination.

I had countless of dreams of him, and it was more uncomfortable when Mei and I decided to sleep together on the same bed. I did not know how to control these dreams. I even feared that they would be excerpted into my subconscious behavior such as sleep talking.

On a very exhausting night, I fell asleep with ease like always. My dream consisted of Kacchan, and I suddenly woke up sweating with no memory of its meaning but with soaked boxers. The next day I excused myself to Mei, explaining how I had been having nightmares so I decided to sleep on the couch for that night. It was pointless. Nothing happened, so I could not make evident of anything nor make progress in mitigating these occurrences.

It was then that Mei eventually realized and we sat down to talk. She reckoned that she woke up by me squirming and softly calling his name in the middle of the night. I was embarassed and furious at myself. I knew this was going to lead to a serious discussion. Although I tried to explain my real feelings and proper doubts, even her cheerful personality did not match up to my excuse. I had to see my psychologist, but the treatment was undefined. My case had always been complex.

"Are you being honest with me, Izuku?" She one day asked when we were in the car as I drove. At first her sudden question made me wonder her aim, but realized it related to the earliest of my worries.

"I'm sure I'm being as honest as I can, Mei. I just don't understand why I'm like this. We would have to pay a greater amount of money for treatment but I don't want to waste it on that," I said to the fullest of my trust, but not mentioning the note since I degraded its value. Mei seemed to doubt for a longevity as she withered corresponsive thinking.

"But why did it start now? Didn't your therapy sessions and psychologists help you?" She asked in own questioning, showing how worried she was towards me. I felt her delicate and saddened gaze at me as I drove. The streets were vacant in the sturdy night.

"I don't know. Guess I have to start taking some medicine."

She refused. She did not want me to take meaningless drugs nor pills, but a tint of her decision was because she knew. She knew it has once accompanied me and was a part of my intimate overdose. She was way more thoughtful and intellectual than the looks, and discovered that from the day I first met her. It was sort of frightening that she could read me like a book, so frightening I had to be careful.

"Sleep with me," she said. I misunderstood when heard in such vague listening.

"H-huh?"

"I want to see if you still are having those dreams. If so, we need to do something about it." I grew worried. I knew I'll have them from how terrible my superstition is. To, however, remove any suspicions and cultivate greater roots to our trust in this relationship, I complied.

Once settled down onto the bed, Mei neared me closer to her, faces apart. My heart beated fast because, if I fell asleep, any facial reaction will be exposed. Despite my anxiety, she was considerate enough to hug me and tell me that it was okay to be shy. The air conditioner did an awful job to wipe off my sweat nevertheless.

I fell asleep as I was deprived from a hard-working day.

Then, I was awokened by Mei, patting me in the head like consoling a crying child. She said in muffles that everything was going to be okay, and I was stunned by utter confusion. When she noticed I was awake, she whispered that I was moaning although in pain. To my reveal, I did feel tears fall down my eyes, and felt my nose runny. Again, embarrassment subjugated me by that statement. When she looked up to face me, she kissed me and I did so too.

In my office after a break, I got a phone call.

"Hello?" I held the phone steadily, looking down at the burgundy carpet meanwhile I fixated my hero costume.

"Hello, is this Midoriya speaking?" The man on the other side spoke with unknown knowledge.

"Yes, yes, that's me. Who am I speaking to?" I wondered as I sat down on the seat.

"This is from the Musutafu Prison; Bakugo Katsuki has woken up six weeks ago."

It was like superstition hated me.

It was like they loved to play with my feelings.

Five years ago, Kacchan, one day after being imprisoned, was said to go in a coma. Ever since, I thought he died, I thought he was not coming back from his eternal sleep. But life proved me wrong, it hates to see me successful.

My words collapsed. I could not reply back nor think. I only knew I had been staring at the floor as if I lost my senses, just until the voice from the other line spoke with clarity.

"Are you there, Midoriya?"

"Yes! Yes, I am," I advised, with a long pause for a reflective thought, running a hand through my hair. "Why are you telling me this?"

"The issue is that he does not remember anything. A few questions that my comrades asked made us understand that he only knows things that happened before any of the major events. Meaning, that he does not remember anything further than November, five years ago."

I did not know whether to feel relief or an empty sense of regret. He forgot everything... was this supposed to be good?

"Does that mean he does not know he killed people?" I asked, mildly distressed.

"Pressumably, he does not. That's why I'm asking you to make the interrogations; you're the only one he is bound to remember. We'll make sure no damages are made," he said. My panting became audible; I was stressed. My mind rushed millions of thoughts and obviously had an additional millions of questions that I could only ask the one and only... the one I thrived to walked away from, the one I thrived to forget and pretend he did not exist. The one that showed me something beyond human nature and dissolute...

"So, will you help us complete this case?"