hero's shadow // mha

59) eight golden urns

His mouth opens without his permission, instinctively trying to draw in a breath. The liquid rushes into him, and he chokes, spasming. Fuck this place!

He bets the creatures are laughing at him for trying to escape the inevitable. He bets they're just waiting for him to come back next time so they can rub this in his face. He bets they're just going to fucking—

His hand breaks the surface. A rush goes through him, and it's like someone yanks him up, dragging him right out of the sludge-like water. His knees hit soft ground, and then he's falling over onto his side, soaking wet and trembling. He throws up the river of black until he's dry heaving, his heart thumping outside his chest.

When he opens his eyes, he sees the Moonpool swirling around just a foot away, almost as if it's alive. Even as he registers this, he can feel his body drying off immediately, the water sliding off of him and returning to the pool. It's then that he realizes his wings have shimmered away, leaving his back bare.

He forces himself to sit up on his elbows, and the first thing he thinks is finally.

A giggle bubbles up inside of him, and he clutches his stomach when he erupts in joyous laughter. He was right, of course. There is something on this side. He wasn't dumb. He was doing something right. He's not stupid.

He gets to his feet, wondering what he's going to do now. Backing up, Izuku stares above him, noticing the pink and blue galaxies and nebulae. It's like he's been dropped in the middle of the universe, and he gets to see the formation of every new star.

It's exhilarating. It fills his veins with something new.

Izuku takes another step back, awed, and bumps into something cold. He's not scared, though. He doesn't scream. In this area, for some reason, he feels... neutral. Past the shock and happiness and curiosity, Izuku is... just Izuku.

Nothing about this feels different to him. It's weird to think about. It's like he's always been here, just not physically.

When he looks over his shoulder, unfazed, he only blinks when he sees himself staring back.

It's not actually him, though. He doesn't think so, at least. Standing before him is a wispy, cloud-like figure that's the same height and build as him. The smoke is black and green, and if he looks closely enough, he can see bright strands of red warring within.

White light spills out of the area where the eyes are, and Izuku finds himself unable to look away. Besides the ethereal wings made of clouds fanning out behind it, there are no other distinguishable features on the figure, but Izuku just knows that this is supposed to be himself.

Some fucked up version, maybe. But it's Izuku.

You look like Kuro, he thinks, but the words echo around him from all sides as if he said it aloud.

He reaches forward tentatively, and his fingers go through the smoke until he touches the soft body underneath. That's what he must've bumped into. The smoke is doing nothing but covering his other self.

Izuku circles the figure, and it— he tilts his head to follow his movements. He wonders absentmindedly how intelligent he is. He can obviously hear, see, and be aware of his surroundings, but can he think? Can he... speak?

Just as Izuku's about to ask this weird version of himself something, Not Izuku turns and walks away, deeper into the realm. His steps don't make any sound, but he leaves a quickly dissipating trail of black in his wake.

Where is he going? Is there something else here that Izuku might want to see? Maybe Not Izuku is just wandering aimlessly. There isn't a way to know for sure unless Izuku is willing to follow.