Chapter Text
It takes Izuku a good deal of time to calm down after his confrontation with Endeavor, but it was definitely necessary. He'd hate himself if he snapped at his friends because a dumpster fire pissed him off. Just as he decides he's cooled down enough, Iida walks out of the audience section, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Before the greenette can say anything, he answers his ringing phone, forcing Izuku to watch his expression go from neutrality to confusion to abject horror. He's shaking by the time he hangs up, and the tutor already knows what he was just told. "Hey," he greets gently, which causes Iida to quickly spin to see who's there. He doesn't bother wiping his wet eyes. Izuku doubts he even notices them. "You're not okay."
"I'm fine," the taller of the two objects, though his voice crack doesn't support his claim in the least. "I'm fine." This second one sounds more like he's trying to convince himself.
Izuku would rather not fight him on it now. "I assume you're going to the hospital now?" He receives wide eyes followed by a stiff nod. "I can come with you. You… shouldn't be alone right now, in my opinion."
The blue-haired boy shakes his head. "It's alright, Midoriya. You're still in the competition."
"And you're more important than the competition. I've made my mark already anyway. I'd rather see you get to your brother safely than win some stupid medal."
In the end, despite any protest given, Midoriya drops out alongside Tenya and sits next to him on the train. For the most part, the green-haired teen keeps his nose in a book on anatomy, but peeks up at his companion with what appears to be concern every once in a while.
Tenya doesn't trust him.
No, he's not being ridiculous. It isn't far-fetched to think that maybe, just maybe, Midoriya had something to do with the attack on his brother. Think about it: Midoriya clearly has ins with villains, clearly terrible people who bend to his every whim, and he also knew what happened to Tensei without Tenya telling him. Sure, he claims it was one of his students who found Tensei, and that that student just decided to call Midoriya to, what, warn him? Tell him the job got flubbed?
So, yeah. Midoriya came along with Tenya to go see Tensei. And yeah, it was partially because Tenya didn't want to be alone right now. But it's also because agreeing to let him come along was the safer choice. Don't disagree. Don't give him a reason to put Tenya in a bed next to his brother.
Midoriya and Tenya accidentally meet eyes. Midoriya gives him a small smile. Despite the distrust roiling in his gut, Tenya forces himself to return the gesture.
From the moment they enter the hospital, Izuku keeps his mouth shut as much as possible, only really speaking so Iida doesn’t have to. “We’re here to see Iida Tensei,” he tells the receptionist, letting his classmate hang back.
“Relation to the patient?” the woman behind the counter asks.
He points behind himself at Iida. “His little brother. I only came to make sure he got here okay.”
The lady gives an understanding nod. “Room 236.”
“Thank you,” Izuku replies with a relieved smile before motioning for his classmate to follow him. “He’s going to be okay,” he tells the taller student as they walk.
Iida swallows and nods. “Of course he will. My brother… He’s strong.”
“If he’s anything like you, of course he is.”
When they reach Ingenium’s room, Izuku hangs out in the hall outside, a little unsure of what to do with himself. Sure, he got them here all safe and sound, in one piece, not actively having a complete breakdown, whatever, but what is he supposed to do now that that’s been achieved? Lesson plans? Yeah, lesson plans. He hunkers down on the floor across from the Iida’s door with his phone to reorganize his classes, trying to separate them more by skill level than they previously were. How he has them currently is just causing him hell. That seems to be a recurring theme in this life. He wonders who he fucked over in a past life to give him this kind of karma.
“Excuse me…?” The boy’s head whips up and his wide eyes lock with red-rimmed ones. Blue hair. Iida’s mom or something? “Are you lost?”
Izuku shakes his head. “Are you Mrs. Iida?” The woman nods. “I’m one of your…” He realizes he has no idea if Iida has any siblings apart from his older brother. “Of Tenya’s classmates.” That given name feels weird in his mouth and he doesn’t like it. Oh, you dumb bitch, you could have said “your son’s.” “I was with him when he got the call about his brother. Didn’t really want him coming alone.”
That alone causes her to start crying again. With his already wide eyes going impossibly wider, the tutor scrambles to his feet, unsure what to do. Mrs. Iida suddenly hugs him, making that discomfort a bit stronger. “Thank you so much,” she whimpers into his shoulder.
“Not―Not a problem. My pleasure.” Holy mother of gumdrops. I am so not suited for this sort of thing.
It’s official. Izuku’s being avoided. By Iida, of all people. You know, the class rep who will stick his nose wherever he feels it’s needed, even if that’s the receiving end of one of Bakugou’s temper tantrums, makes everything his business, and sees no reason not to talk to anyone? So, yeah. Izuku’s feeling wonderful about himself. It’s probably nothing, just him being upset over what happened to his brother, he reminds himself as he looks over his internship offers for experience week.
Oh, yeah. Experience week.
Surprisingly enough, Izuku got a good amount of offers. Not nearly as many as Todoroki or Tokoyami, who came second and first respectively in the sports festival, but still a decent number, especially given his quirklessness and the fact that he dropped out in the semi-finals. Even more surprisingly, there’s a hero’s name on his list he doesn’t recognize. Some guy called Gran Torino. Izuku definitely doesn’t have his phone under his desk during math as he tries to dig up literally anything about the apparent cryptid to no avail. It’s almost as if the man doesn’t exist. Now I have to intern with him just to satiate my curiosity, don’t I?
That answer is yes. No matter what Izuku’s doing for the next twenty four hours, he’s got half his brain trying to find any information on this mysterious hero. On the train? He’s googling Gran Torino. Doing homework? Making a list of reasons why he might not have heard of him. Finishing up teaching plans? Erasing where he accidentally started writing about enigmas and replacing it with evolution. Hell, the only time he can really get it off his mind is when he shoots Nedzu an email at around two in the morning, and that’s only because it’s that important to him.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Experience Week
Good morning! Please forgive the stupid hour, but I didn’t want to wait until a more decent time and risk forgetting.
My main concern right now is Iida Tenya. After his brother got attacked by the Hero Killer, he’s been pretty out of it if that makes sense? I’d like for him to talk to Hound Dog, but I don’t think it’s my place to do anything with that. The main reason I wanted to email you is about keeping him out of Hosu. If Stain sticks to his pattern, he won’t leave the city until he attacks one or two more heroes, which means he’ll probably still be in Hosu during our experience week. I’d worry about Iida running into him and doing something stupid or completely freezing up.
In all reality, we should probably be keeping all students out of Hosu until Stain moves on or is captured, just to be safe.
Thanks for your time!
Midoriya Izuku
He relaxes into his chair, basking in the moment of empty mind that comes oh-so rarely. He’s not thinking about his next lesson, or doing his homework, or what he and All Might are supposed to do for his next class, or, or, or, or, or. Instead, he watches the night sky, trying fruitlessly to count the stars. Sometimes it’s nice not being busy.
A ping from his computer brings him back to the screen, back to every single thought that vies for his attention at this so pleasant hour of the morning..
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Experience Week
You bring up a good point, Midoriya, though you’re not the first to mention keeping students’ agencies away from Hosu. It was already being spoken of. However, should a student intern with a hero attempting to hunt down Stain, there’s not much UA can do to keep them from participating in the search. As for getting Iida in to see Hound Dog, I’ll see what I can do. Now go to sleep. I won’t be happy if you fall asleep in tomorrow’s staff meeting.
Principal Nedzu
Well… That’s pretty damn good. Izuku goes to sleep content.
“Mr. Aizawa?” Shouta’s eyes drag open, lifting to meet Iida’s with a slight hint of annoyance. He was just about to fall asleep, dammit. “Could I have a word?”
“What is it?”
The boy’s eyes shift elsewhere, openly displaying his discomfort. “I was a bit… uh… worried about Midoriya?” Dear fucking God, what did the gremlin do this time? “He… uh… He was really friendly with the villains at the USJ.”
Shouta has an idea of where this is going. “And?”
“And he knew my brother was hurt before I did. I was just…”
“Concerned he was secretly working for or commanding the villains?” the teacher offers skeptically, to which he receives a nod. I really hate my job sometimes. “A good number of the villains at the USJ are people he teaches. Outside of UA, he acts as a teacher slash tutor for those who need it.”
This seems to sufficiently confuse the student. “Teacher?” His head tilts and his eyes narrow almost suspiciously.
“Yes, Iida. Teacher. I completely understand where your worries are coming from, but he’s not… No. Just no.”
Confusion and suspicion shift to straight frustration before disappearing altogether to an oddly emotionless expression, considering which student this is. If it were Shouji, Todoroki, Tokoyami, or someone like that, it wouldn’t be so curious, but this is Iida “Robot Arms and Undying Passion For What He Believes” Tenya. “Thank you for your time.” And Iida walks out the door. Something’s wrong with him. Something’s very wrong.
Midoriya’s words during the sports festival really… forced Shouto to look at things a little differently. Honestly, no matter how much the guy bothers him, he made some valid points. Why would Dad care how he gets to the top so long as he gets there? He’s never been the type to care about the means so long as the ends meet his standards.
He still can’t believe Midoriya’s quirkless. And that he ran out on their fight. Fucker.
“No, Yagi― Yagi. I have to catch my train and I’m not going to be the asshole yapping the entire train ride and bothering everyone else in the car.” Speaking of Midoriya. The other student walks at the same pace as Shouto toward the train. Guess they’re taking the same train? “We’ll talk more about it at the end of the week,” Midoriya tells whoever’s on the other end of the phone in exasperation. “One of these days, you’ll have to come up with your own ideas for this type of thing. No… You’re the one who took the job! I’m hanging up now!” He jabs his phone screen and stuffs the device into his pocket with a small sigh.
“That didn’t sound pleasant,” Shouto comments as they walk, unconsciously falling into step beside his classmate.
Midoriya rolls his eyes. “Sadly, he’s not the most difficult person I have to deal with.”
“Would that be Bakugou?”
That gets a surprised snort out of the greenette. “He is a pain, isn’t he?” he grins. “What hero are you interning with?”
Shouto gets the feeling his companion isn’t going to like his answer. “My father,” he replies anyway. Midoriya gives him an incredulous look, basically questioning his sanity. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Green hair bounces as the shorter of the pair shakes his head derisively. “If he pulls any shit, castrate him.” Shouto trips in his surprise. “Just fuck him up.”
Once the taller recovers, the conversation becomes much… easier. Neither party is overly hostile―quite the opposite, really. Midoriya actually smiles and makes jokes like he does with most everyone else in the class. Was it really just Shouto’s attitude that made him close himself off so heavily?
At least the train ride isn’t awfully boring like it usually is.
Color Izuku impressed that Todoroki is actually tolerable when he doesn’t have that stick so far up his ass he’s spitting out splinters. It’s enough to keep his mind occupied for the whole walk from the train station to the place he’s supposed to be staying this week. He’s not calling it an agency. He refuses. Agencies don’t look like this, all old and decrepit, ready to fall apart, covered in graffiti and hazard tape. Honestly, this place looks more like somewhere Izuku would teach rather than learn.
Regardless, he walks in the front door, sighing when he sees the dead body of an old man surrounded by what might be blood. One normal day. It’s all I’m asking for. Why is that too much to ask? Maybe he’s not dead? As he drops his belongings and gets his phone out, the boy reaches for the possible-corpse’s neck to check for a pulse.
The next few seconds are kind of a blur. First the corpse uncorpses, which means Izuku goes flying back, both out of surprise and a soul-deep desire not to get his face broken by the not-corpse―he doesn’t think his insurance covers the undead―and the phone he was about to use to call emergency services on (the pulse check was going to tell him if he wanted an ambulance or the coroner) goes flying out of his hand and into the wall before landing face-down on the ground with a less-than-pleasant crack. The clearly not-dead body rockets around the room at an incredible speed, one Izuku would probably be marvelling at if he weren’t too busy wiping the splatter of ( Is that ketchup? He licks his finger and confirms it is, indeed, ketchup) ketchup off his face and going for his phone. Don’t be broken. Don’t be broken. Don’t be broken. He ducks a close encounter a la Mr. Not Dead’s deadly little feet and flips his phone over to reveal… Fuck. “I’m getting tired of replacing the screen on this thing,” Izuku mutters to his spider-webbed reflection in the shattered glass, at least glad the wretched device still turns on.
“Who are you?” At least the guy stopped bouncing all over the place. Izuku does, however, continue pointedly ignoring him, opting to inspect his poor phone instead. He can probably keep using it without repairing it. The sharp jab at his shoulder makes the old man a bit harder to ignore. “Hey, brat! I asked you a question!”
The boy doesn’t even dignify the guy with a glance his way. “You broke my phone screen,” he deadpans with a sigh, putting his phone in his pocket a moment later. Every once in a while, he wishes he weren’t so desensitized to shit like this. A normal person would have been scared or angry or something, but honestly? Izuku’s just done. “I’m Midoriya Izuku. And you’re Gran Torino, I assume?” the boy asks, vocally embodying just how done he is.
Confusion overtakes the man’s features. “What’d you say? How’d you get into my house?” Wonderful. Either Izuku’s got the wrong place or he’s stuck with a senile old man for the week. Just lovely.
Curiosity really does kill the cat, huh?