Arthur POV
"HA!"
The scream tears from my throat before I'm even fully conscious. I'm already halfway sitting up. The covers of my bed fly over me I realize I'm sweaty.
My eyes dart around the darkened room. My breathing comes in ragged gasps, it hurts to breathe.
I looked to my side and there they were, exactly where they always are.
Avalon.
Excalibur.
They rest against the wall beside my bed. My hand moves without conscious thought, reaching for Excalibur's hilt, my fingers already curling to match its familiar grip.
But I stop myself before I can reach it, my hand hovering inches away, trembling slightly.
"I haven't had that dream in a while," I sighed, running my other hand through my sweat-matted hair. My nostrils flare as I smell my sweaty body. That dream, no not a dream, a memory that haunted me, or at least used to.
My mother's face, pale and still. The blood spreading across the tiled floor. My small hands, too weak to help, too late to save her. And then the awakening, Excalibur and Avalon appearing, summoned by my mother, her last gift to me, ironic since I had lost the book, her previous last gift to me.
It had also been the moment I stopped being Aki Tadashi and became the vigilante I would be known as... Arthur.
The memory, I stopped sleeping entirely because of it, when I first started out, I still slept and it haunted me. This is the first time I've had it since I began sleeping again, since I stopped being the vigilante.
My gaze landed on Avalon once more, and I feel that familiar weight in my chest.
I knew what she was, I knew what she did. The knowledge had come to me gradually. She wasn't just a scabbard, was as mother had described absolute defense.
She granted me incredible regeneration. It made me almost immortal, at least in the physical sense. And when activated, when I truly called upon her power, nothing could harm me. I became untouchable, existing in a space separate from the world where no attack could reach me. Of course, I couldn't harm anything in return while in that state.
The Everdistant Utopia.
The name echoes in my mind. A perfect paradise, always just out of reach. A place of absolute safety and peace. But...
What kind of utopia was enjoyed only by one man?
I think of all the people suffering in hospitals, of heroes permanently scarred from their battles, of innocent victims who will never fully heal. And here I sit with the ultimate healing artifact bound to my soul, unable to share its gift.
I rose from my bed, my bare feet hitting the cold floor with barely a sound. Walking over to the bathroom, I peel off my sweat-soaked clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a damp heap. I turn on the shower, not waiting for it to warm up before stepping under the spray.
The cold water shocks my system, or should have if I had a normal body, of course what could be defined as normal in this day and age. After a moment, it begins to warm, and I stand there, letting it cascade over me.
Avalon. Avalon. Avalon.
The name echoes in my mind. I press my palms against the shower wall, hanging my head to let the water run through my hair.
My mother.
She'd wanted to make the world better. She'd believed in kindness, in helping others. Maybe because she and she alone could understand other people's pain.
I felt the water wash away my sweat, each droplet running down my skin. It felt almost fickle as it pitter-pattered across my hair and skin.
In the rhythmic sounds, I ask myself again.
What kind of utopia was enjoyed only by one man?
The words feel heavier each time I think them, like they're accumulating weight, becoming more real.
Was I meant to be alone? Every day I grew stronger, every day the gap between me and my classmates widened. Even among future heroes, I knew I'd be above all of them sooner or later.
What of my mother's mission? She'd wanted to help people, to spread kindness.
Was I...
Was I failing her?
I turn off the shower abruptly, the sudden silence almost deafening after the constant stream of water. I walk out of the shower, water dripping from my hair and running down my back. Steam covers the mirror in a thick fog, but even through it I am able to see my reflection.
I wipe away some of the condensation with my hand, revealing more of myself.
My body is... unmarked.
I have no scars
I have no wounds.
I have no history engraved into my body. I'm a blank canvas, as if I've never fought, never struggled, never suffered.
I feel... unsatisfied.
There's something wrong about it. They say every scar is a story. But my body tells no stories. It remembers nothing.
Again I question myself, my reflection staring back with those too-bright eyes.
What kind of utopia was enjoyed only by one man?
How many people needed Avalon's healing more than me? How many sick children in hospitals, their bodies failing them? How many heroes forced into early retirement by injuries that would never fully heal? How many civilians caught in villain attacks, left with permanent reminders of their trauma? How many?
The number was probably countless.
I think of Aizawa-sensei. His crippled legs from the USJ attack. The way he has to rely on a wheelchair now.
I walk out of the bathroom. I pick up my sweaty clothes as I go, the fabric cold and clammy in my hands, placing them in a bag for the laundry.
My gaze moves back to Avalon and Excalibur. I smile as I look at them.
I open a drawer, the wood creaking slightly, and grab clean clothes. A simple shirt and pants, nothing special. I dress, my mind elsewhere, deciding to stay awake for the remainder of the night. Sleep holds nothing for me but memories I'd rather forget.
I sit on the sheets, the mattress dipping under my weight, my hands moving to my family, because that's what they are, aren't they? The only family I have left.
"Avalon," I began, my voice barely above a whisper in the quiet room, searching for the connection I sometimes feel. "Are you mine?"
I expect an answer. That's how it usually works, not words exactly, but feelings, something I can't describe. But none comes. The scabbard remains silent.
The silence stretches.
"You're not, are you?" I continue, my fingers tracing the patterns on Avalon's surface. They're always slightly warm to the touch, I never wondered why before. "You aren't mine. You're ours. You are our utopia."
Avalon was never meant for one person. It was meant to be shared, to heal, to protect everyone. The Everdistant Utopia, that's what it was.
I rise from my bed, strapping Avalon and Excalibur at my waist.
I open my door, the hallway beyond dark and silent. The dorms are quiet at this hour, I can hear the soft breathing of my classmates through the walls, some snoring, others mumbling in their sleep.
I begin to walk, my footsteps silent on the floor. I know where I want to go. There is something I need to do... or try. The thought has been building in my mind since I thought of Aizawa-sensei, growing from a whisper to a shout. If Avalon can heal me, if it's truly meant to be ours rather than mine, then maybe...
Maybe I can share its gift.
I speed up as I walk across the halls of U.A., my pace increasing from a walk to a near-blur. The corridors pass by.
It doesn't take long, less than four seconds, before I stand in front of a door.
I prepare to knock, raising my fist, but the door opens before my knuckles can make contact. Of course it does. This was Nezu we were talking about here, I grin.
Inside, sitting on a reclining chair that's specially sized for his small frame, drinking a small sip of... jasmine tea, I think as my nostrils take in the delicate floral scent mixed with subtle sweetness, is my favorite principal, my closest confidant.
Nezu.
His beady eyes look into mine, his small paws wrapped around a delicate china cup that probably costs more than most people's monthly salary. He's wearing a little vest, perfectly tailored, and his tail swishes behind him.
"My oh my, lad, what could you possibly be doing awake at this ungodly hour?"
"I could ask the same of you," I reply, stepping into the room.
"Ah, but I asked first," he said with a sly grin, his whiskers twitching.
I realized I no longer found it eerie, I hadn't for a long time. When had that changed? When had Nezu gone from being unsettling to comforting?
"And I asked second," I replied, a sly grin forming on my own face. Two could play at this game.
Nezu releases a short squeak that could almost be called a laugh, not his usual manic cackle that sends shivers down most people's spines, but something else. It's rare to hear him make such a... normal sound.
"Want some tea?" he asks, gesturing with his tail to an already filled cup sitting on the side table. I can see a small amount of steam rising from it. "I had a feeling I might have company tonight."
He was really too smart sometimes. Or maybe he just always kept extra tea ready. With Nezu, it was impossible to tell.
"You know I don't like tea."
"Yes, I know," he sighs dramatically, placing a paw over his heart as if wounded. "I just hoped you had grown better taste between yesterday and now. Miracles do happen, after all."
"I guess I haven't," I answered as I took a seat across from him.
"I guess you haven't," he takes another sip, his pinky raised at exactly 90 degrees, perfectly proper etiquette as expected of the smartest being in the world. He then settles the cup back down on a coaster I hadn't realized was there. "So spill it. If you're not telling me why you're awake, at least tell me what you want."
"Can I not come here for some pleasant conversation?"
"You can," he says, his tail swishing, "but you never do. Your life has been filled with too much drama for pleasant conversations, at least with me. So?"
He's right, of course. Nezu is always right.
"Where does Aizawa-sensei live?" I asked, deciding to cut straight to the point.
Nezu's entire body goes still. Even his tail stops moving, frozen mid-swish. "Why do you want to know?"
"I think I can heal him."
The words seemingly engulf the room, stopping either of us from speaking anymore. Nezu's cup pauses halfway to his mouth, and for once, I've actually surprised him.
"You what..." His voice is low, I only catch it because of my own enhanced hearing.
"I said I think I can heal him. His legs."
"Since when?"
"It's a theory," I admit, my hand unconsciously moving to rest on Avalon. "Something I've been thinking about. I want to try it out."
Nezu doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he pulls out his phone from one of the pockets of his vest. His tiny paws move across the screen, typing out what must be a message. The phone pings almost immediately with a response, but he turns it off before I can see what it says.
"So?" I prompt.
"Just wait a minute," he says, settling back in his chair. "Have some tea while we wait." His tail swervs to the extra cup and pushes it toward me.
I sigh, looking at the cup like it might bite me. The eternal battle between my dislike of tea and my respect for Nezu wages in my mind. He's made me try every type imaginable, green, black, white, oolong, herbal, and I've enjoyed exactly none of them. Coffee, soda, juice, all of those are great and I can't get enough of them. But tea? Tea just doesn't do it for me.
Thankfully, I don't have to decide as my ears twitch, picking up sounds from outside. My legs carry me instinctively toward the door, my hand already on the handle.
I open it to see Aizawa rolling down the hallway in his wheelchair, his hair hanging loose around his face. His eyes look more tired than usual, the bags under them darker.
Without thinking, my legs carry me forward. I grab the handles of his chair and lift it slightly, just enough that the wheels don't touch the ground. Before he can protest, though knowing Aizawa, he wouldn't have anyway, I rush back into Nezu's office with him.
The whole maneuver takes less than two seconds, but Aizawa doesn't even look surprised. He's gotten used to my speed, or maybe he is like Mina says, a constant resting bitch face. To me he just looks tired.
I set him down gently, making sure the wheelchair is stable. His eyes stare into my blue ones for a moment, before he looks down to Nezu.
"So what did you call me in for?" His voice is as flat as always, a bit raspy as if he had woken up mere moments ago... he probably had.
Nezu simply points to me, which makes Aizawa look toward me once more. His expression doesn't change, but one eyebrow raises slightly.
I nod, not sure how to explain what I'm about to attempt.
So I don't explain. I just do what feels right.
I unsheathe Excalibur from Avalon, the blade singing as it comes free. The impossibly sharp edge almost touches the floor as I put it on my waist. Without Avalon to contain it, the blade actually begins to cut into the floor just from its own weight, I'll have to apologize to Nezu for that later.
I hold out Avalon by its tip, presenting it just like the bloody hand had given it to me all those years ago.
"Grab the end of it," I say, my voice steady, just like it had been, how I had made it be, when I became Arthur.
Aizawa does as I say with no hesitation whatsoever. He reaches out and grips Avalon's pommel. His face remains impassive, but I see his fingers tighten slightly on the scabbard.
For the first few seconds, nothing happens. Doubt creeps in. What if I'm wrong? What if Avalon really is only mine?
But then I feel it.
My heart.
It thrums against my chest. Mana spills forth. It bursts into Avalon just like it had burst into Excalibur when I unleashed it onto Nomu 1 at USJ.
It almost looks like it begins to glow, but I think that's in my head as neither Nezu or Aizawa-sensei show any reaction to it.
Then we hear it.
All of us.
Cracks.
They are loud and reverberate through the room like gunshots. It's the sound of bones reknitting, of damaged tissue rebuilding itself, of nerves reconnecting. The sound of healing compressed into seconds what should take years, or never heal at all.
The sounds of immortality surging into the man I now called sensei.
Aizawa's eyes close, his face tightening, not in pain, but in something else. I think it might be similar to how I feel when Avalon heals me, that cooling sensation.
The cracks last only a few seconds at most.
I step away from Aizawa-sensei, releasing my hold on Avalon. But his hands still grip the scabbard, and as I move back, he's pulled up along with it.
He stands.
Takes a step.
He doesn't fall.
Another step. Another. His legs hold his weight perfectly. He looks down at them as if seeing them for the first time. He's whole again. I did it.
The room is absolutely silent. Even Nezu seems to have stopped breathing.
I don't know when my knees hit the floor. I don't remember falling. But suddenly I'm kneeling on the ground, Excalibur's blade cutting deeper into the floor, Nezu is definitely going to make me pay for that, though I'd be paying him with his own money, since I'd do so with the allowance he gives me, but I don't care at that point.
I press Avalon's tip to my forehead, then the tears start to fall. They come all at once, unrelenting, just like they had come night, but for a very different reason. Words spill forth, from my mouth before I can stop them.
"I did it. I couldn't save her. No matter what I did, but I saved you. I did it."
A/N: BOOM! Retcon accomplished, I didn't know Avalon could heal other people, so neither did Arthur, now he knows. Isn't that great and dandy, also believe it or not, we are actually almost a third of the way to finishing this lol. I'm also thinking of starting a Patreon, mainly to get my parents off my back, but not sure how I'd feel about it, tell me what you dudes and dudettes would think.
Either way Aizawa is healed, Arthur has processed a bit more about his trauma, and the question to the title of this chapter has been answered. There is no utopia when one is alone.
Also this chapter is like 3k words, I'm super tired lol.
Thx for reading. Send those stones and you may get extra chaps *wink, wink*
Author out.