Chapter Text
Tarnished Slivers
Chapter 1: The voice in my head
Stars above – it burned. Everything of her essence was being stripped bare, broken down as she defended her loved one from the mental attack. Even as her will faded, even as she… died, she smiled. Her original would not sully her loved one. He would be free of her influence.
Even as she burned, she smiled.
Loneliness was the core of little Izuku. Ever since the dispassionate doctor had delivered those cursed words, little Izuku had felt… alone.
His mother had apologised to him, but the words just made him feel… hollow.
A month later and apart from the occasional hug it was as if he was a ghost. They spoke to each other, but it was almost as if his mother was empty.
Like him.
School was worse or better in some ways. People spoke to him, even if they were mean about it. Even if the touches hurt more than healed.
It was better than this… nothing that smothered the apartment.
He was almost 6 years old and had already begun to realise that the world was cruel. Especially to those like him.
The only thing that kept him going was his belief – he was going to be a hero – he was going to make people smile and believe in him, maybe even like him.
Was that last part a little selfish?
Yes.
But to little Izuku that dream was everything.
Warmth was the first thing she registered. Not the pain of burning though, that was gone. This was different
No. This was comforting. It swaddled her, embraced her and cradled her. Somewhere in the distance she thought she heard a voice, a young boy.
But for now, sleep and healing called to her entire being.
Something had changed for Izuku. He wasn't sure what, but something definitely had... Over the past few months, he’d had… feelings.
A nudge here, a tiny suggestion there and it always helped. Helped avoid Kaachan, avoid the worst of the teachers, or helped appease his mother.
Most recently though, and for him the most enjoyable, (even though he felt terribly guilty afterwards) was when late at night, when he couldn’t sleep, it felt as though someone was stroking his hair and singing a lullaby. A lady. Not his mother, someone else.
Her hands were always warm, and they always made the aches and pains go away.
Izuku was six and half (He’d been counting!) when that night in bed, he’d had a terrible, terrible pain in his head.
He thought he was dying. He cried out “MUMMY! MUMMY!” the pain feeling as though his head was splitting open, tears spilling down his face when he felt hands smoothing his hair down.
The pain died down.
“Hush now child. I apologise – I did not intend to hurt you”
Izuku's eyes snap open. Sits bolt upright. The sensation of hands stops.
"Who's there?!"
Looks around his room. Door closed. Window closed.
He's alone.
The voice is coming from inside his head.
Izuku found himself trembling in fear. "I'm going crazy. The doctor said quirkless, not crazy!"
"You are... not insane, child."
"Then who are you?! Are you a quirk? Did they miss it? Am I not quirkless?!"
Hope, desperate and painful.
"No. Not a quirk dear one. I am... something else."
"Are you a villain? Was that you that hurt me?"
There was a long pause.
"I... am no villain and I apologise for earlier. I did not think reaching out would cause pain.”
That honesty is somehow more frightening.
Izuku, small voice: "Are you real?"
"I think so. I'm not certain of much right now."
"What's your name?"
Longer pause.
"I... don't remember. I remember... falling. Fire. A choice. And then... warmth and you."
"Me?"
"You were crying. I heard you. Felt you. And then I was... here. I’ve been helping you with your bad dreams."
Izuku touches his chest, where the feeling is strongest.
"Are you... in my head?"
"It appears so."
"Can you leave?"
"I don't know. I'm very weak. It took a lot to reach out like this"
Izuku, anxiety rising: "What if you're dangerous? What if you hurt me or my mom?"
"I don't... I don't want to hurt you. You were in such pain. I remember thinking... 'he shouldn't hurt alone.'"
That stops him.
"You... felt bad for me?"
"Yes."
Silence for a moment.
Izuku, cautiously: "Do you have a name I can call you?"
"Call me... Lash. For now."
"Lash? That's a weird name."
"Says the child named after a number."
A hint of amusement.
"Hey! Izuku is a good name!"
"I didn't say it wasn't." Lash's voice was warm and sweet and it felt like he'd just drank hot coco.
Another pause. Izuku fidgets with his All Might teddy he’d been holding.
"Lash?"
"Yes?"
"Are you going to leave? Like everyone else?"
The question is so small, so broken.
"We're... connected now, so no"
"Oh."
"Does that frighten you?"
"I don't know. Everything's scary now."
"I understand fear."
"You do?"
"I think... I think I was born from it. Among other things."
Izuku laid himself back down, still clutching onto All Might.
"Lash?"
"Mmm?"
"I'm glad you're here. Even if I don't understand why. I don't... I don't want to be alone."
Lash goes very quiet.
Then, softer than before:
"Neither do I, child. Neither do I."
The feeling of hands (Lash’s hands?) resume combing through his hair. The humming restarts and as Izuku finds himself lulled back into sleep, a tiny part of him realises that Inko never came into his room.
At 6 and half years old, the last of Izuku’s hope for his mother withered… and died.
But in the darkness of his room, warmed by a presence he didn't understand, Izuku Midoriya was no longer alone.
And neither was Lash.