Limitless

My fingers, still trembling from the lingering shock of that shared death, hesitated above the screen. Curiosity finally won out over the lingering exhaustion. I tapped the second option, "Limit Breaker".

For a moment, nothing happened. I stared at the screen, waiting for some grand revelation, some physical transformation. But there was nothing. No surge of power, no sudden enlightenment. Just the steady beep of the heart monitor and the distant bustle of the hospital beyond my room.

Well, that's anticlimactic. I tried to sit up, expecting... well, I wasn't sure what. But my body responded the same way it always had – stiffness, a dull ache, the weight of fatigue pressing down on me.

And yet, as I settled back against the pillows, a nagging thought began to take shape. The Limit Breaker... what if its effects weren't meant to be immediate? What if, instead of granting me some flashy power-up, it had simply removed the invisible barriers that held me back?

The idea felt strange, almost foreign. According to Izuku, Quirks were the rules of this new world, the lines that defined what was possible. But what if I didn't play by those rules anymore? What if the Limit Breaker meant that my potential was now...well, limitless?

With no limits to my growth, the only thing standing between me and greatness was me. It may not have given me instant power, but it had given me something far more valuable.

My gaze drifted back to the screen, to the final option that awaited me. Modified Quirk. Hm. If the Limit Breaker was the key, then this quirk would be the door it unlocked. The shape of my future, the role I would play in this strange new world.

I reached out, my finger hovering over the text. Whatever this quirk was, it would define me. It would be my weapon, my shield, my identity. And I would master it, no matter the cost.

The world seemed to hold its breath. For a heartbeat, there was nothing. Then, like a whisper in the depths of my mind, a single word echoed:

Tandava.

Images flooded my consciousness. Dancing figures wreathed in flame, their movements powerful and precise. Each step, each gesture, unleashing waves of force and gouts of fire. It was a dance of destruction, a symphony of controlled chaos.

With those images came names, whispers of promise that remained just out of reach. Drishti, Tala, Raga... and gates. There were gates, pathways to mastery, but they shimmered in my mind's eye, always retreating as I tried to grasp their meaning.

And beyond them all, faintly visible but impossibly distant, was the final threshold – Awakening.

It was like being handed a treasure map with no key, a glimpse of unimaginable power, but no path to reach it. The feeling wasn't a surge of energy, but a gnawing hunger for something that always remained just beyond my grasp.

The knowledge settled into me, not with the weight of a gift, but with the heavy promise of a journey. The Tandava was mine now, in potential if not in practice.

This was no mere weapon to be wielded - it was a lifetime's pursuit, a never-ending dance.

I opened my eyes. The hospital room hadn't changed, of course. No, the change was within me, a strange mix of adrenaline and unease. The Limit Breaker and the Tandava. One offered infinite potential, the other giving shape to that potential.

I took a deep breath, feeling the first stirrings of the fire within. This was my future, my destiny. And I would embrace it with everything I had.

I rose from the bed, my body moving with a new sense of purpose. Each step felt like the beginning of a something, a prelude to the battles to come.

A soft knock at the door snapped me out of my reverie. I turned just as a nurse entered, her eyes focused on the clipboard in her hand. "Alright so I'm checking on Izuku Midoriya. Should still be unconscious so this will be ea…"

Her words trailed off as she looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. I realized I was standing beside the bed, my body having moved almost of its own accord. The wires and tubes that had once tethered me lay discarded, a tangle of plastic and metal.

"Hey," I said, my voice sounding strange to my own ears. It was the first word I'd spoken since waking up, and it felt oddly inadequate given the circumstances.

The nurse stared at me, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. I could see the confusion and disbelief warring on her face. A patient who had been at death's door, now standing tall and speaking as if nothing had happened? It defied explanation.

For a moment, we simply looked at each other, the silence stretching between us. Then, without a word, the nurse spun on her heel and hurried out of the room. The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing in the sudden stillness.

"Doctor!" Her voice rang out, muffled by the closed door. "Doctor, come quick! It's Mr. Midoriya, he's... he's standing up!"

I sat back down on the edge of the bed, my legs suddenly feeling weak. The adrenaline that had carried me this far was starting to fade, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. I knew I needed rest, needed time to heal and regain my strength.

But I also knew that I couldn't stay here forever. Sooner or later, I would have to face the world beyond these walls. A world of heroes and villains, of power and responsibility. A world where I had a role to play, whether I was ready for it or not.

I looked down at my hands again, trying to imagine the flames that would one day dance across my fingertips. The Tandava was a part of me now, as much as my own heartbeat. And I would have to learn to wield it, to master its rhythm and melody.

The Limit Breaker, too, was a weight on my shoulders. A reminder that my potential was now limitless, that I could become anything I set my mind to. It was a daunting thought, almost overwhelming in its scope.

But it was also a challenge, a call to action. I had been given these gifts for a reason. And I couldn't let them go to waste.

I took a deep breath, feeling my resolve settle into place. I would rest for now, would let my body heal and my mind adjust to this new reality. But when the time came, I would be ready.

I would go to UA, would walk the path of a hero. I would push beyond the limits that had once defined me.

"From a counterfeit coin to Number One Hero," I muttered. It was just a crazy thought, a flicker in the storm, but damn it... didn't it sound like a plan?

I closed my eyes, letting the soft beep of the heart monitor lull me into a dreamless sleep. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new adventures.

But for now, I could rest. Safe in the knowledge that when the time came, I would be ready.

I felt the warmth before I was fully awake. A gentle pressure around my hand, a soothing presence that seemed to chase away the lingering shadows of my dreams. Instinctively, I squeezed, my fingers curling around the source of that comfort.

Slowly, reluctantly, I opened my eyes. The world was a blur of colors and shapes, indistinct and hazy. But as my vision cleared, one image came into sharp focus.

A woman, her head resting on the edge of my bed. Her hair, a soft shade of green, was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few stray strands falling across her face. Her eyes were closed, her breathing soft and even in the rhythm of sleep.

But it was her hand that held my attention. Her fingers were interlaced with mine, a gentle but firm grip that spoke of a bond I had never known. A bond of love, of family, of unconditional support.

"Mom?" The word slipped from my lips, a hoarse whisper that seemed to echo in the quiet room.

Her eyes fluttered open, a startling shade of green. For a moment, she seemed confused, disoriented. But then her gaze settled on me, and a smile bloomed across her face. A smile that held a world of love and relief.

"Izuku," she breathed, her voice trembling. "Oh, my baby. You're awake."

She sat up, her free hand coming up to brush the hair from my forehead. The gesture was so tender, so filled with affection, that I felt my throat tighten. In my old life, I had never known a touch like this. Had never known the warmth of a mother's love.

But even as I leaned into her touch, a pang of guilt struck me. Because the truth was, her Izuku, the boy she had raised and loved... he was gone. Dead, lost in that final, fateful encounter with the sludge villain. And in his place was me, wearing her son's face like a mask.

It felt like a betrayal, a deception of the cruelest kind.

How could I face her, knowing what I knew? How could I accept her love, her relief, when it was built on a foundation of lies?

"I..." I started, my voice catching in my throat. "I'm sorry. For worrying you."

The words felt hollow, insufficient. Sorry for worrying her? I should be apologizing for so much more. For not being the son she deserved, for carrying the baggage of a life she knew nothing about.

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "No, Izuku. Don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Oh, but I did. I had everything to be sorry for. For not being here, not really. For being a stranger in her son's skin.

She squeezed my hand, her grip tightening as if she were afraid I might slip away. "I'm just so glad you're alright. When I heard what happened, I... I thought I might lose you."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, a resonance that went beyond this life and into the echoes of my past. How many times had I wished for someone to care about me like this? To worry over me, to fight for me?

It was a strange feeling, this warmth that seemed to suffuse my entire being. A feeling I had no name for, no context to understand. But even so, I found myself leaning into it, letting it wash over me like a balm.

"I'm okay, Mom," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I'm here."

I hesitated, the promise of 'I'm not going anywhere' sticking in my throat. Could I really make such a vow? When I wasn't even sure who I was, what I was?

She seemed to sense my hesitation, my inner turmoil. Her hand tightened around mine, an anchor in the storm of my thoughts.

"It's alright, Izuku," she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "You don't have to say anything. Just rest, my dear. Just rest."

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I let my eyes drift closed, let the warmth of her presence lull me back towards sleep.

But even as I slipped back into unconsciousness, the questions continued to swirl in my mind. Who was I, really? Izuku Midoriya, the aspiring hero? Ryu Kenji, the yakuza fighter? Could I be both, or would I have to choose?

And if I chose to be Izuku, to embrace this new life... would I be living a lie? Or would it be a chance to start over, to become something more than what I had been?

I didn't have the answers. But as I drifted off, my hand still clasped in hers... I knew I would have to find them. For her sake, and for my own.