Inheritance of Giants

The Chain

He stared down at the floor, fists curling tighter, nails digging into his palms. It didn't matter how much he explained. How clearly he remembered. What he'd seen in the light.

They thought they were protecting him.

They thought he needed distance. Rest. Simplicity.

But that wasn't what he needed.

He needed truth. Even the dangerous kind.

'Why can't I just have it?' his thoughts screamed.

They could record the songs. Just clips. Snippets. Anything! A single note — one guitar string vibrating through static. He didn't need the whole thing, just something to prove it still existed.

Just something to keep it from slipping away.

But they didn't even try.

They locked it behind glass and called it safety.

"It's for your own good."

That was what people always said before they hurt you in slow, quiet ways.

Inko was still whispering to him, but her voice had become background noise. Like the hum of the lights. Like the hollow buzz of silence where music should've been.

Izuku felt himself be picked up and moved by his Ka-san, but everything felt muted around him. Everything wasn't okay, everything wasn't simple, even when it was supposed to be.

Then, they were back in Izuku's hospital room, Ace sitting in the corner, eye shadowed. Inko sat Izuku down on the cot and glanced at Ace with an unreadable expression.

"Ace," Inko began, "can we... talk outside?"

Ace blinked and looked up, the bags under his eyes. He nodded and stood, the door closing slowly behind him.

Inko sighed and kissed Izuku on the forehead. "Okay, you get a good night's rest, okay, Izuku?"

Izuku opened his mouth, but closed it and nodded. "Okay, you sleep well, Izuku. I love you."

"I love-"

Inko was quickly out of his room, leaving his statement unfinished to her ears.

"You... too," Izuku breathed out, eyes watery.

Izuku rubbed his tears away and rolled over. He tried to sleep, but Inko and Ace were too loud. Not loud enough to hear, but loud enough to bother him.

So, there was only one thing Izuku could do now, and that was to listen in.

Izuku quietly got off the cot, wincing at the groans said cot made, and tip-toed over to the door Inko and Ace were right outside of.

"He's- he's like a drug addict, Inko!" Izuku heard Ace mutely mutter.

"Portgas Ace! That is not the way you should speak of Izuku!" Inko responded.

Izuku held his breath as he leaned closer to the door, one hand braced against the frame to keep his balance.

"...I'm serious, Inko," Ace continued, voice muffled but sharp at the edges. "The way he clings to that thing—it's not just obsession. He's spiraling. And we're letting him."

"We are not letting him spiral," Inko shot back, and Izuku could hear her trying not to cry. "We're trying to help him. You saw what happened during the last vision—what it did to his body. His heart was hammering so fast it shook him. His ear drums were tearing apart. His- fuck, I might have mistaken him for having Parkison's Disease."

"Yeah," Ace replied, quieter now. "And I also saw what happened when we took it away."

There was a pause.