Hope yall enjoy the chapter please comment and leave me ideas, and some feedback it really helps make me write more. Also sorry about the late chapter. I added 800 words as a sorry. I rewrote this chapter like 5 times. Any who enjoy
Ps. Another thing I need help here I just realized I forgot to mention Nerissa's parents like ever so I need ideas for them. My current and only idea is important British people in some way due to her name sounding British. Let me know your opinion and ideas. **important** will effect story
Izuku emerged from the shattered gates of the USJ into daylight that felt wrong on his skin.
Smoke and dust rolled out behind him, the echoes of destruction still ringing faintly inside the dome, but he didn't slow. He walked forward with steady, deliberate steps, cradling Nerissa against his chest as if she weighed nothing at all. Her head rested just below his chin, her body limp and unmoving, blood darkening both their clothes.
Two shadow arms extended from behind him, massive and careful, each holding someone precious. One supported Momo, the other Shōko, lifting them just off the ground, keeping them close enough that he never had to look away from Nerissa to know they were there.
His face was blank.
Not calm.
Not cold.
Empty in the way someone looks when they are running on something other than adrenaline.
Got it. Clean restart, one continuous scene, clear positioning, realistic pacing, no confusion about where anyone is. Here is the full redone scene from the start, exactly as you asked.
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Izuku got Nerissa to the medics.
He didn't remember deciding to move—only that his feet carried him forward, step by careful step, until he was close enough to lower her onto the stretcher waiting just beyond the U.S.J. gate. His hands shook as he eased her down, adjusting her shoulders, making sure her head was supported, his focus narrowing to nothing but her breathing.
The medics took over immediately.
"Careful—watch the chest—oxygen—now."
Izuku stepped back to give them room.
That was when his vision blurred.
He swayed, instinctively reaching out, fingers brushing empty air—until Shōko was suddenly there, gripping his arm tightly, her other hand bracing his back.
"Izuku?" Her voice was sharp with worry. "Hey—what's wrong?"
"I'm fine," he tried to say.
The words barely formed.
Everything shadow-related shut off at once.
Not violently. Not explosively.
Just… gone.
The last wisps of darkness collapsed inward and vanished, leaving only the black markings still etched into his skin. Izuku blinked, confusion flickering across his face as something twisted painfully in his chest.
Then he coughed.
Hard.
He brought a hand to his mouth—and froze as thick blood spilled into his palm. The coughs came faster, violent and uncontrollable, forcing him to bend forward as more blood poured out, splattering across the concrete and soaking Shōko's sleeve.
"Izuku—!" Shōko gasped, tightening her hold as his body shook.
His nose started bleeding at the same time, thin streams joining the mess as his breathing turned ragged and uneven.
Momo was already there.
She'd been standing only a few steps away, watching the medics work on Nerissa when she heard the sound—the wet, choking cough that didn't belong. She turned just in time to see Izuku doubled over, blood everywhere, Shōko struggling to keep him upright.
"Izuku!" Momo dropped beside them without hesitation.
Then something changed.
The blood darkened.
Red bled into black, thickening unnaturally as if something inside it had decided to take control. The coughing slowed, his chest shuddering once more before easing, and the bleeding began to stop.
Not naturally.
The blackened blood moved.
It pulled itself back toward him, crawling across his skin and soaking back into his body as if it belonged there. Not all of it returned—only the blood that had turned black. The rest remained behind, stark red against the concrete and Shōko's clothes.
Izuku stared weakly at his hand, unfocused. "…that's… weird," he murmured.
His legs gave out.
Shōko and Momo both tried to hold him, but there was nothing left to brace against. Izuku sagged between them, consciousness slipping as the world tilted violently.
Medics were on him instantly.
They didn't wait for permission. Hands replaced theirs, lowering Izuku carefully to the ground, checking his airway, his pulse, calling out vitals over the noise of the evacuation.
"He's lost a lot of blood—how is he still breathing?"
"Get a stretcher—now!"
Momo's hands hovered uselessly for a moment before she forced herself to step back, chest tight as she watched them lift him.
She looked to the side.
Nerissa was already being wheeled away, medics moving fast, voices urgent. There was no time to hesitate.
Momo swallowed hard.
"She can't be alone," she whispered.
Shōko met her eyes, face pale, hands shaking. "Go," she said quietly. "I'll stay with him."
Momo hesitated for one last heartbeat, then leaned down and brushed her fingers against Izuku's hand, her voice breaking. "I'll be with her. I promise."
Then she turned and followed Nerissa's stretcher as Izuku was lifted onto another beside him.
Both were rushed toward the waiting ambulances.
Shōko stayed close to Izuku's side as they moved him, refusing to let him out of her sight, while behind them the broken gates of the U.S.J. stood silent.
The hospital doors had barely closed before the weight of it all came crashing down.
The hospital hallway felt unreal.
Staff guided Momo and Shōko away from the operating wing with gentle insistence, hands at their backs, voices low and careful. They didn't resist. They let themselves be led to a bench against the wall and eased down side by side.
Someone draped thick emergency blankets over their shoulders.
They sat pressed together, knees touching, shoulders tight with tension. Blood still speckled Momo's sleeve. Shōko's hands were clenched so hard in the blanket that her knuckles had gone white.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Momo reached for her phone.
Her hands were shaking badly enough that Shōko covered them with her own for a second, grounding her. Momo took a breath that didn't quite steady her and put the call on speaker.
It rang once.
"Inko?" Momo said when the line connected.
"Oh—Momo?" Inko's voice was bright with surprise. "Is everything okay? Are you calling from training? Izuku said you'd be out late."
Momo swallowed hard. Her throat burned.
"We… we were," she said carefully.
Shōko leaned closer, her shoulder pressing firmly into Momo's side.
Inko laughed softly, unaware. "Did you all finish early? Is Izuku with you? I was going to ask him to pick up—"
"Inko," Shōko said quietly, a bit of tension filling her voice.
That was when Inko stopped.
Her voice changed immediately. "Shōko? What's wrong?"
There was a pause—too long.
Momo's breath hitched, and she turned her face slightly away from the phone, biting down hard to keep it together.
"Inko," she said again, voice trembling despite her effort. "We need you to listen, okay?"
The line went silent.
"…okay," Inko said slowly. "I'm listening."
Momo closed her eyes.
"UA took our class off campus today," she said. "It was for a training exercise. We were at a facility called the USJ."
"There was an attack," Shōko said, voice tight but steady. "Villains broke in. It wasn't supposed to happen."
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.
Inko's voice came back softer now. "Where is Izuku?"
Momo felt her chest tighten painfully.
"He's alive," she said quickly, the words rushing out. "he's alive. But he's hurt."
Inko didn't speak.
Momo could hear her breathing on the other end, uneven, shallow.
"How hurt," Inko whispered.
"They just took him into surgery," Shōko said. "We're at the hospital with him."
The sound that came from Inko wasn't a word.
It was a small, broken gasp.
"…surgery?" she said, barely audible. "My son…?"
Momo nodded even though Inko couldn't see her, tears finally spilling. "We're here. We're not leaving him. I promise."
Inko's voice trembled violently now. "What happened to him?"
Momo squeezed Shōko's hand hard.
"He pushed himself too far," Momo said, voice cracking. "Trying To protect all of us and survive."
There was a long pause.
Then Inko spoke again, and the fear was fully there now, raw and unguarded. "Which hospital?"
Momo told her.
"I'm coming," Inko said immediately. "I'm coming right now."
"Please don't drive fast," Momo said instinctively, the words slipping out through her tears.
Inko gave a shaky sound that might have been a laugh if it hadn't been breaking apart. "I'll be there as fast as I safely can."
The call ended.
Momo lowered the phone slowly and leaned into Shōko without thinking. Shōko wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her just as tightly.
They sat there together in silence, wrapped in borrowed blankets, staring at the closed operating room doors—
waiting for the moment someone would come out and tell them whether Izuku Midoriya was going to wake up again.
The calls were brief, rushed, and painful.
Momo spoke first, her voice shaking despite her effort to keep it steady. "There was an off-campus training exercise. Villains attacked. We're all safe...but Izuku and Nerissa aren't. They're both in surgery right now."
The panic on the other end was immediate. "Are they alive?"
"Yes," Momo said quickly. "They're alive. We're with them."
Shōko followed, saying almost the same words, her voice quieter but just as strained. "They were protecting us. They pushed themselves too far." She paused, swallowing hard. "Please come as soon as you can."
Both calls ended with the same promise: We're on our way.
Momo and Shōko sat back down together on the bench, shoulders pressed tight beneath the emergency blankets, neither trusting themselves to speak as they stared at the operating room doors.
Inside one of those rooms, the surgeons had stopped moving.
Nerissa lay beneath the lights, chest open, monitors humming in a steady rhythm that didn't match the damage in front of them. Her heart was beating...but not on its own.
A black, glossy substance wrapped the damaged muscle like a living brace, threaded through torn tissue and pulled tight with every beat. It flexed and pulsed in perfect time, literally holding the heart together and forcing it to keep working.
One surgeon leaned back slowly, disbelief clear in his voice. "…That's the only reason she's alive."
Another stared, hands hovering uselessly. "It's keeping her heart intact."
The heart beat again.
And the black substance tightened in response, refusing—absolutely—to let it stop.
Later, the hallway erupted again.
Footsteps came fast and uneven, almost running, then slowing abruptly as panic warred with the need to see clearly. Inko Midoriya burst through the hospital doors, hair slightly disheveled, breath short, eyes scanning wildly from face to face.
"Izuku?" she called, voice already breaking. "Izuku—where is he?"
Her gaze landed on the bench.
Momo and Shōko were still there, huddled together beneath thin emergency blankets, shoulders pressed tight. Small splatters of dried blood dotted their skin and hero costumes—too little to explain, too much to ignore.
Inko froze.
For a split second, her mind refused to catch up to what she was seeing.
Then she rushed forward.
She dropped to her knees in front of them and pulled them both into her arms without hesitation, holding them tightly as if they might vanish if she let go. Momo stiffened in surprise, then collapsed into the embrace. Shōko followed a heartbeat later, gripping the back of Inko's cardigan with trembling fingers.
"Oh—oh thank god," Inko whispered, voice shaking violently. "You're alive… you're both alive…"
She pulled back just enough to look at their faces, her hands framing their cheeks, eyes frantic as they searched for answers. "Where is he?" she asked, fear flooding back in all at once. "Where's my son?"
Momo swallowed hard, throat tight. "They took him into surgery," she said softly. "He collapsed after he got Nerissa to the medics."
Inko's breath caught. "Surgery…?"
Shōko nodded, jaw clenched. "He lost a lot of blood. But he's alive. They're working on him."
"And Nerissa?" Inko asked quickly, already afraid of the answer.
"She's in surgery too," Momo said. "She was stabbed."
Inko pressed a hand to her mouth, tears spilling freely now. "Both of them…" she whispered.
She hugged them again, tighter this time, rocking slightly as if it might soothe all three of them at once. "You did the right thing," she said shakily. "You stayed. Thank you for staying with them."
Momo's voice wavered. "We're not leaving."
Shōko nodded firmly.
Inko pulled back and sat with them, one arm around each girl, eyes never leaving the operating room doors down the hall. Her fear hadn't lessened—but at least now, she wasn't facing it alone.
They waited together in silence, listening for footsteps that would finally bring news about the two people they loved most.
Some time later
The doors at the end of the hall finally opened.
Every head snapped up at once.
A hospital bed rolled out slowly, flanked by doctors and nurses speaking in low, careful tones. Izuku lay motionless beneath the sheets, skin pale, chest rising in shallow, steady breaths. Tubes and monitors followed him like quiet sentinels, their rhythmic beeping the only proof that he was still there.
Inko was on her feet instantly.
"That's him," she breathed, already moving. "That's my boy."
She stopped herself just short of the bed, hands clenched tight in her cardigan as she looked him over, eyes darting to every wire, every bandage, every still limb. Momo and Shōko stayed close on either side of her, their shoulders brushing hers like anchors.
"He's stable," one of the doctors said carefully as they walked. "Unconscious, but stable. We're moving him to a private room."
The room they took him to was nothing like the others.
It was large—almost suite-like—clearly arranged in a hurry but with intention. Multiple couches lined one wall. Chairs were set in a loose circle. A second adjoining space had been cleared for staff and equipment. The lighting was softer, the air quieter.
Outside the door, men and women in dark suits took up positions without fanfare, scanning the hallway with practiced eyes. More stood at the corridor entrance, subtle but unmistakable.
Momo's parents had moved fast.
Inko noticed them and hesitated, suddenly unsure, but Momo's mother stepped forward immediately, her expression tight with worry rather than formality.
"Inko," she said gently. "Please. Come in. All of you."
Izuku's bed was positioned carefully in the center of the room, monitors set up again, IVs adjusted. Once the medical staff finished their checks and stepped back, the space fell into a heavy, waiting quiet.
Inko finally let herself approach.
She took Izuku's hand in both of hers, warm tears spilling freely now that she could touch him. "You're here," she whispered. "You're safe. I'm here."
Momo stood on his other side, fingers resting lightly on the blanket near his arm, while Shōko lingered close to his head, eyes never leaving his face.
No one spoke for a while.
Footsteps sounded softly at the door not long after, and Shōko looked up immediately.
Her mother stepped in first, face pale and tight with worry, followed closely by her father. The moment their eyes found Shōko, the composure she'd been holding shattered. She stood and crossed the room in two quick steps, and her mother pulled her into a tight embrace, one hand cradling the back of her head.
"You're hurt?" her mother asked urgently, scanning her from head to toe seeing the blood on her.
"No," Shōko said, voice hoarse. "Just… shaken."
Her father's gaze shifted to Izuku in the bed, then back to his daughter. Understanding settled heavily on his face. He nodded once, a quiet gesture of support, and rested a hand on Shōko's shoulder.
They stayed close after that, standing with her near the bed, a small but solid presence.
Not long after, the room stirred again.
Nurses entered first, moving carefully, followed by another bed being wheeled in. Nerissa lay beneath the sheets, monitors humming softly at her side. Her skin was pale, but her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm that made Momo's breath catch painfully in her throat.
They positioned her bed beside Izuku's.
A doctor followed them in, pausing long enough to make sure everyone was listening. "The wound to her chest was severe, but stable now." he said quietly.
"She's unconscious, and she'll need extensive recovery time. Bed rest, no exertion of any kind. But she's alive."
A collective breath seemed to leave the room at once.
"There was… something unusual," the doctor added carefully. "A substance we don't fully understand was reinforcing her heart tissue. It appears to have kept the organ functioning long enough for us to operate."
Inko's eyes flicked between the two beds. "Is she in danger?"
"Not immediately," he said. "Right now, the best thing you can do is let her rest."
Momo moved closer to Nerissa's side, fingers brushing the edge of the blanket, her shoulders finally sagging with relief. Shōko watched from between the two beds, torn but steady now that both of them were there.
The doctor walked in and waited until everyone in the room was fully focused on him before continuing.
"What we found in Nerissa," he said, "matches almost perfectly with what we're seeing in Izuku."
He shifted the tablet in his hands, bringing up layered scans that glowed faintly in the dim light.
"In her case, the black substance formed directly around the damaged portion of her heart. It didn't regenerate tissue the way a healing quirk would. Instead, it acted like a structural brace—binding torn muscle together, compensating for loss, and forcibly maintaining function."
He paused, letting that settle.
"It is the sole reason she survived long enough to reach surgery."
Momo exhaled shakily. Shōko's jaw tightened.
"In Izuku's case," the doctor continued, "the substance went much further."
He changed the display.
"The original cardiac tissue has been completely replaced."
Inko made a small sound in her throat, her hand flying to her mouth.
"But," the doctor said quickly, "it isn't failing. Quite the opposite."
He enlarged the image.
"His heart is outperforming normal human parameters across every measurable category. Oxygen distribution, circulation speed, recovery rate—his cardiovascular output is far beyond what we'd expect from even a top-tier athlete."
He hesitated, then added quietly, "Frankly, it's functioning better than a natural heart ever could."
The room went still.
"And there's more," he said.
He rotated the scan, highlighting the opposite side of Izuku's chest.
"There is a secondary formation beginning here. Symmetrical placement. Early-stage, but unmistakable."
Momo leaned forward. "Is that… another heart?"
"We don't know," the doctor admitted. "There's no precedent for this. No known quirk—none—creates redundant vital organs."
He looked genuinely disturbed now.
"Our best hypothesis is that his quirk assessed the stress his body was under and decided that one heart was no longer sufficient."
Shōko's voice was barely audible. "That's… not how quirks work."
The doctor nodded. "No. It isn't."
He tapped the tablet again. "Whatever this substance is, it doesn't behave like a normal quirk manifestation. It doesn't wait for instruction. It doesn't follow conventional biological limits. It adapts in real time to ensure survival."
Inko's voice trembled. "Is… is that dangerous?"
The doctor considered his answer carefully.
"Medically? We can't intervene. Every attempt to do so only causes it to spread and reinforce itself further. But functionally?" He met her eyes. "It's keeping him alive. More than that—it's rebuilding him to withstand what would otherwise be fatal strain."
He glanced toward Nerissa's bed again.
"And given that it acted the same way for her—instantly, instinctively—we believe this substance is tied directly to Izuku's quirk and controlled…. Somehow."
The monitors continued their steady rhythm.
Two hearts, one beating stronger than human limits…
And something new beginning to form beside it.
The doctor lowered the tablet slowly.
"I've been practicing medicine for over thirty years," he said quietly. "And I have never seen a quirk rewrite the rules of the body like this."
No one disagreed.
Because whatever Izuku Midoriya's power had become—
It was no longer playing by the rules anyone understood.
-----read below for context on certain things
Ok so there will be questions about this chapter I'll answer them here. There will be something called black blood. Think of it as kinda the same thing as black blood from soul eater just without all the bad stuff And a bit of my own twist.