Chapter 7: Tranquility (Patreon)

The ride home was spent in utter silence, Izuku noted, as he basked in the presence of his mother whom he missed for the most of his life. In the driver's seat, Midoriya Inko had a smile, an anxious one, as she kept her eyes on the road, often times glancing at her son every or so moment.

It was quiet. It was peaceful. It was everything Izuku despised, but still kept his calm as he forced a smile to keep his mother happy.

Deep down, he knew. He knew it was wrong to hate peace and quiet, silence and serenity, but his instincts wouldn't stop screaming at him the entire way back home as he sat himself strapped on the passenger's seat.

Inko, the observant mother that she was, noticed the tiny little details that kept on propping up against her son's judgment. The way he subtly squirmed in his seat, the way his eyes seldomly darted from side to side, the way he clenched and unclenched his fists...

It was heartbreaking. She was no psychologist, but the little mannerisms shown by her son was enough to paint a picture harrowing enough, it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

Fortunately, it wasn't that long until their drive came to an end. Inko moved to get out of the car, but noticed his son slightly confused on what to do with the black strip of nylon and how to get out of his binding.

The sight made Inko worry even more. What had happened to her little baby after his... His...

And that was just it. For a moment, just seeing her baby... Her baby Izuku, was enough to make her forget about the loss.

The loss of her son and his tragic death.

The investigator, the chimera, and even the number one hero attributed it to some kind of quirk awakening that none of them have ever heard of, nor even believe possible.

Quirks, to understand it quickly, was a term coined in the past for human evolution in a superhuman way. They developed either on birth, or in their fourth year of life. There were exceptions to this, such as those awakening their quirks early, or very, very late.

But none of them ever heard of a quirk that brought the dead back to life. Much more if the remains were just ashes and no more biological tissue remained.

It was frightening to think about, but Inko paid it no heed, instead, deciding to embrace the newfound chance to make everything right again.

And maybe teach him about the things he forgot during his... Sleep... There was no way Inko would be linked with raising a caveman of a son.

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Izuku marveled at his room. His mom was busy in the kitchen cooking up his favorite food, katsudon, she told him. He didn't remember what katsudon was, or what it tasted like, and he also forgot the last time he ate something that wasn't weed. That said, he was hopeful that the food would make him remember why it was his favorite.

But that would come later. Right now, he was busy staring awestruck at his room that he remembered snippets about. He was completely sure it was chocked full with a certain hero figure, but he forgot the scale of how many he had inside.

There were probably enough figures to decorate multiple bedrooms, and he had it all in here, each sorted from rarity, to type, and even date acquired. He was even sure that some of these would cost a fortune if sold to the correct buyer.

Fucking Patches and his overpriced wares. If he was here, Izuku would probably sell it to him for a premium, and Patches, knowing him, would probably sell it at ten times the premium.

He was cheap like that.

Izuku fondly remembered the time the two of them kept on bickering on the price of that stupid silver mask he bought and shoved it inside his box to gather dust the moment he found a better helmet.

Sure, it left him with a deficiency of souls, and a harder time with his trek in Lordran, but he was fine with it. It was a reminder. A reminder that he was still sane and other people were willing to talk and laugh with him as his mind slowly deteriorated.

Shaking his head from those thoughts, he took a step forward into the quiet room, and quickly backtracked to the door where he could hear the noise coming from kitchen.

Izuku breathed in deeply, before letting it out as he hummed a tune. Slowly, he went inside, his tune a mix of high and low pitches that was grating to the ears of anyone who could hear.

But he didn't care. Izuku didn't care if his humming could cause people to throw things at him, most likely a tomato, but that would only apply if he was humming around living people.

An act he would never do unless well and truly alone.

He always wondered why he would hum every time he felt isolated, and frankly, shoved that thought aside when it kept him sane, relatively, that is. It was better than stabbing himself, that he could completely agree with.

Not really useful if he went into the next combat encounter with wounds already piling up from his self-destructive tendencies, now would it?

As he stepped inside, he left the door ajar, the mute noise coming from the kitchen now dampened enough that he couldn't hear it under the sound of his humming. Izuku slid a hand across the bed, his smooth skin silkily rubbing across the fabric, a contrast to his rugged and callused hand back in Lordran.

Which brought him to another conclusion. He felt lethargic and slightly weaker than he was in Lordran when he awoke back here in Japan.

Izuku recalled the burning flame. His arms slowly turning charred as his soul went ablaze. The depths of his core quickly burned out as the reserve of his soul, as well as the souls he consumed, stoked the flames even further.

And then, as sudden as it siphoned out his strength and left him an empty, burned husk, it stopped and the flame fizzled out. All that remained was a weak glowing ember that refused to fade.

The memory was embedded into his mind. He could never forget the experience. Burn him in fire? Izuku could take it. Eat him whole? Izuku would make sure his corpse cause the damn monster indigestion. Dunk him in lava? He would swim in it as it melted his bones.

Burn the entirety of his soul? Izuku shuddered at it, and that was what the fucking bitch Guinevere wanted him to do, but never stated.

He thought that all he would do was use the souls he gathered and feed them to the flame. Izuku didn't expect to be one of them as well.

"Izuku! Katsudon's ready!"

His mother's voice broke him out of his reverie, his humming already stopped a few minutes ago as his mind delved into problematic memories.

"Coming!" Izuku yelled out a response as he exited the room, taking one more glance at the open door that beckoned him inside for a well-deserved rest, but ignored it and hurriedly went to the dining room where his mother was waiting.