Inheritance of Giants

When the Levee Breaks

"Damn you!" The being responded with a snarl before a smile grew on its face. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?"

"All last night, sat on the levee, you know?"

"Yes."

"All last night, sat on the levee and moaned."

The being offered his hand to the king and smiled more. "Then you know how this will end?"

"Thinkin' about my baby and my happy home, Ah-oh..."

The drums and guitar riff kicked in as decay from the being of clay and flame began to disintegrate into light, their smile widening more. "All of this because I found love... how truly pathetic of me."

"There is nothing pathetic about love, Go," The king answered with a sigh. "There is nothing pathetic at all."

Then Izuku was back, shoulder being tapped by Inko. "Are you okay?" she said with a blank smile, eyes devoid of emotion.

Izuku blinked. His breath stuttered and unplugged from his music player.

The courtroom ceiling hovered above him again — colorless, bureaucratic, inhuman in how small it suddenly seemed. No fire. No sky. No silver brothers or red children. Just metal walls and suits with frightened faces pretending to be brave.

But everything still felt wet. Like something had just receded. Like something had just left.

"I..." he began, but the words turned to smoke.

Inko squeezed his shoulder — firm but mechanical. Her smile didn't reach her cheeks. Her voice was calm but wrong.

"Sweetie," she said softly, "you've been dissociating a lot lately. Don't worry. It happens."

Izuku stared at her. At her eyes. They weren't blank. They were locked. Like something behind them had been forced to sit down and shut up.

Like someone else had taken over the wheel. He reached up slowly and touched her hand.

It was cold. Not in temperature — but presence.

"Ka...san?" he whispered.

"Everything's fine, sweetie," she said again, tone lighter now, almost rehearsed. "Just a little overwhelmed."

Now that he was back, he noticed that ten hours had passed since he went under the effect of the vision. Izuku felt his bones shake with the discovery. How- how had he been out that long?

"For the crime of disobeying order, manslaughter of several SSSP operatives, and over five dozen listed crimes, you, Portgas Ace, are to be under house arrest for the foreseeable future," the judge announced with a sigh, tapping his hammer. "You are not to leave the premise of the Midoriya household for the next decade unless under supervision of a hero, and you are to take any mission given to you by the SSSP without refusal. Any attempts to do otherwise will have you exiled and thrown into the ocean immediately."

Ace was tense, but nodded quietly. There was no arguing here, not now, not ever.

The sentence didn't echo. It landed — like a weight dropped from orbit. Like chains made from silence.

Izuku stared at the judge, but all he saw was smoke — not literal, but residual. The kind that clings to memory, not clothes. The kind that comes from something ancient smoldering in the part of your brain that knows it wasn't just a dream.

Ace didn't move. Didn't speak. Only his eyes flickered, just once, toward Izuku — and then to Inko.

She was still smiling. Still not there.