Chapter Text
*
Izuku was running, stumbling over his steps. He didn’t try to hide his panic.
It wasn’t like there was anybody to see it this late at night, though. The moon shined down beautifully on the deserted streets, lighting his empty path like it was taunting him.
Izuku’s mind pulled up a blank, something he distantly recognized had to be the result of some type or quirk, or maybe it was all his own panic.
There wasn’t anything physically wrong with him, he knew. Not even a scratch. But he could feel it, his own loss of breath, his sudden tiredness. All from seemingly nothing at all.
There was a shadow, before he ran. In the dark, it had the head of a snake and the body of a spider. It was growing, he could hear the faint whispers of mutation as the shadow transformed into something.
He remembered a flash in the dark, then a spike of cold, instinctual fear before he started running. Whoever was with him didn’t follow him, Izuku didn’t know why not. He had the sense, almost certainly, he was going to die.
It was a villain, it had to be. Izuku had no idea how he got away.
Before he had even realized how long he was there, he was bolting down his street, clutching on his backpack still from school for it to not fall as he feared.
Izuku ran up the stars to his front door, slamming it open.
“Izuku?” His mom’s voice came before her form appeared, skirting around a corner in haste to get to the doorway. She let out a breath of relief when she saw him, “I was worried you weren’t coming home.”
Izuku stood there, panting, and Inko asked again, “Izuku? Honey?” She rushed forward, crouching down to his height but not touching him.
Izuku mustered a smile, suddenly feeling any panic drop out of him at the sight of his mom,” “Sorry, mom,” he said, “I got lost.”
Izuku didn’t know why he didn’t tell her he was attacked by a villain. Well he thought it was a villain, at least. He couldn’t quite remember it, but he had seen enough of the news to know it was probably the answer.
“It’s nearly 7pm,” Inko said, now running her hand into his hair. “I was about to call the police and ask over you.”
Izuku noticed then the phone held loosely in her other hand. His heart clenched. He really shouldn’t worry her. His mom did enough for him already.
“Uh,” he said eloquently. “I got really lost.”
Inko chuckled slightly, half a sob, finally pulling him through the doorway. She closed it gently behind him, careful not to make too loud a sound.
*
Izuku really didn’t know why he came back here. Okay, he did. Curiosity. Yes, yes, Izuku knew the phrase about the cat and everything, but really, could he be blamed? Yesterday was about the coolest, scariest, most awesome thing that had happened to him, like, ever.
He wanted to find whoever had attacked him. It was after school, now, and Izuku was able to slip away from his classmates effortlessly. Most of them dismissed him because of his quirklessness, and Izuku guessed inquiries about their quirks probably wouldn’t be missed.
The more he thought about last night, the more interested he became. He wanted to know everything about what happened. He bet he could fill an entire journal with the information. What kind of quirk would give him a reaction like that? Was this person in hiding? Where had his lost memory gone?
So, Izuku found himself walking a different direction out of school that day. He’d informed his mom he’d be home late, and she had looked excited, asking if he was going out with a friend. He didn’t answer, letting her make her own assumptions. He wasn’t really comfortable lying to his mom, but saying lies aloud felt like more of a betrayal.
The alleyway looked different in the light, at least from the small bit Izuku remembered. He was here to recover his memories, he would get a full comparison sometime soon. He was already filling a journal page with what he saw, despite it not being immediately important. It might be, later.
Izuku wandered forward, slightly, the jumped at the sound of a crack. He glanced sharply down, then sighed, realizing it was only him stepping onto a piece of trash.
He stepped around it, moving through the empty alleyway for some sign of the something he remembered from yesterday.
After a few minutes, Izuku’s attention waned, and he sighed, glancing once at the piece of trash before he tucked his journal back into his backpack, defeated. He started to move out of the alley.
Emphasis on started.
“Who are you, brat?” a gravelly voice spat from behind him.
Izuku spun around, surprised to find a teenager standing behind him. He was wearing all black, a hoodie over his head. His hair was a pale blue, covering most of his face, and his face looked almost crusty, lips cracking.
For a brief moment, Izuku wondered if he was the villain who attacked him, yesterday, but came to the conclusion it most definitely wasn’t. The man who attacked him was bigger, his shadow suppressing the wall behind him like he had command of the darkness. Something this skinny teenager definitely could not do.
“I’m looking for a villain,” Izuku told him, “I don’t know who, though.”
Instead of responding, the teenager strangely started to scratch his neck. The skin there was dry and covered in marks, as if this was a normal occurrence. Izuku ignored it, as his mother had taught him manners. Pointing this out would probably be rude. What if it was part of his quirk?
“I’m pretty sure I’m in the right place,” Izuku continued, ignoring the other boy’s silence. “I mean, everything here is how I remember, so there must be some indicator of where the villain had gone—”
“Shut up,” The teenager said. His voice came out slightly deep. Before Izuku even realized what was going on, he jumped to find he had moved closer and was now holding onto Izuku’s wrist with four fingers. Izuku tried to pull it away but the grip surprisingly held fast despite the boy’s skinny frame.
The villain yanked Izuku behind him as he threw open a door made of the same material as the building. Izuku would never have been able to find it if the boy wasn’t there, and, despite the teenager’s weird behavior, Izuku was grateful for his presence.
“Where are we going?” Izuku asked him, slightly breathless from the exertion of the stairs.
“I told you to shut up, brat,” The teenager spat, not looking at him. Izuku took the advice, switching his focus to try and parse their surroundings.
They had entered into a dark hallway that descended down into stairs. Izuku had to concentrate to not trip over his own feet going down. The farther they went down the more light gathered, and eventually they were in a short hallway, leading to a large-looking room.
The walls were an industrial, desaturated reddish-brown, a mix of different types of metal and grainy concrete or rock Izuku didn’t know the name of.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” The teenager scoffed, finally releasing Izuku’s wrist. Izuku rubbed the area, trying to alleviate the slight pain he felt.
“Sorry, didn’t realize I was staring,” Izuku told him. The teenager scoffed.
“You’re fucking annoying,” he said. “Now, come on,” he moved his iron-clad grip up to the loop of Izuku’s backpack, hooking it with two fingers as he used it to drag Izuku forward.
“Hey, you never answered my question! Where are we—” Izuku’s protests fell flat as they passed through the archway, mouth falling open in shock.
They were in a basement of some sort. Well, it couldn’t really be called a basement. There were archways like the one they had just come through. They were branding off into different paths he could peer down but not get a clear picture of. The walls were still the reddish-brown color, but the ceilings here were far larger, around four meters high.
Izuku could not get rid of the feeling that he had stepped in something gross.
It seemed as if it was some mix of natural formed cave and human intervention. Some of the walls were rocky and formed unevenly, while others were clearly formed by man. Even with this amalgamation of forms, Izuku didn’t get the impression it was unstable in any way.
Massive, buzzing lights filled the top of the roof, giving off the impression of daylight. Izuku would have found it creepy if he didn’t think it was fascinating.
What was more so were the people. Villains, Izuku recognized, walking around in group or alone through the different passageways. Some were relaxing by tables or chairs set up in different parts of the room.
The teenager pushed him forward, causing Izuku to trip slightly and lose his lazer focus on their surroundings.
“Hey guys!” The teenager greeted. He sounded excited, yet he still seemed uninterested in Izuku behind him.
At his voice, many of the nearby villains turned to attention, moving forward with greetings Izuku didn’t catch.
He walked forward slightly, wanting to catch the teenager’s attention. “Hey, wha—”
“I brought down a kid,” he yelled to the group now gathered. “Feel free to kill him!”
Wait, what?
Izuku spun around himself, noticing a group of villains, all muscular and looking incredibly intimidating. His gaze snapped back to the teenager, and he gawked at the sight. Izuku could no longer see the pulled lines around his features—he had placed a pale blue disembodied human hand onto his face, covering his features like a sick sort of mask. It bobbed with him as he moved as if it was gripping onto him, despite the fact it cut off on the wrist.
“Wait, what’s going on? And what’s with the hand?” Izuku asked to no answer.
The teenager reached behind him, materializing a phone that Izuku didn’t recognize the brand of. He held it with his pinky stuck out. He looked at the group impatiently. “Go on, brats, I’ll get this recorded for Boss.”
“Well, he’s just a kid—” one of the villains started, but the teenager started glaring.
“And you’re just a thug,” he snapped. His long hair swayed slightly, revealing red eyes between the fingers of his hand. The rest of the villains fell back at that.
“Well?” The teenager tapped his foot impatiently, swinging his phone camera between Izuku and the rest of the villains.
The villains moved forward then in a circle around him, and Izuku stood, desperately trying to figure out a way out of this.
“Hey, wait, wait!” Izuku didn’t know if it was the tone of his voice, but the villains slowed down their ascent on him.
The only thing that stood between him and most certain death was his mouth. It was the only way he could influence them, get them to spare him.
“You’re villains, right?” Izuku asked, continuing before they could answer the obvious, “Well, obviously, but are you really villains.”
“What are you doing?” The teenager pouted, stomping a foot on the floor. “Kill him!”
None of them moved. Izuku had got their attention.
“What do you mean, kid?” A villain asked. She looked like she could snap Izuku in half with barely a twitch. Izuku gulped, forcing his tone.
“You go after heroes, don’t you?” Izuku continued. “You’re sophisticated, down here, a collection rather than the stragglers that lie outside. You profit off of villainy, rather than let it ruin you.”
Izuku thought he had read something similar in a comic book once. Thankfully, the villains looked enraptured with his validation.
“What do you know?” A villain scoffed. “I mean, what are you, nine?”
He was ten, thank you very much.
“And why should we trust what you say?” Another villain asked. Izuku noticed the group had gotten increasingly bigger surrounding them, murmurs now forming over the crowd.
“Because I know everything about villains,” Izuku told them confidently. “I know all about you guys! I can tell you guys any of your quirks, if you ask.”
A risky move, but one he would have to take. Izuku had already calculated his success rate in inferring the quirks of strangers, and doing so was probably the only thing he could do that wouldn’t get him murdered on the spot. Okay, really, it was the only thing he could do. Izuku wasn’t strong nor extremely battle-clever and there was nobody coming for him, as he hadn’t told anybody where he was going.
“Oh, can you?” The teenager scoffed, bringing attention back to himself. He looked extremely displeased. “Go on, then. Do mine.”
Izuku’s mind moved on autopilot, and he started muttering. “Well, There are a couple of indicators you have a five finger touch quirk. The unnatural wideness you keep your fingers. Your tendency to cross your arms while holding your pointer finger up, to name a few. Then there’s the matter you’ve stayed away from touching anything, including your own clothing, with all five fingers, which probably means its a destructive type of quirk.”
Izuku blinked back to reality, realizing the villains had stopped moving towards him, now regarding him with apt suspicion.
“How the hell did you know that?!” The teenager screeched, fingers flexing in front of him rapidly. The phone in his hand crumbled to the floor at his pinky’s touch. A pile of ashes gathered underneath him, floating down gently. Disintegration. Christ.
“That was new, brat!” His fingers flexed, jerking upwards then quickly downward as if he was restraining himself from scratching his neck like Izuku saw earlier. Suddenly, The teenager’s face darkened, a shadow being cast over his eyes from his hoodie. “What are you, some stalker? Stop writing this shit down!” Izuku’s eyes shot down to the notebook in his hands. He hadn’t even realized he started writing (which happened far more often than one would think). That was not good. The teenager continued, voice cracking with his yelling. “Get over here, you fucking brat—!”
The teenager approached, and Izuku stumbled back. He tripped over a small indentation on the floor, mind filling with panic. The change in attitude reminded him a lot of Katsuki. The blond wasn’t as dangerous as Mr. Destruction-Quirk was, but he was definitely as angry.
“You shouldn’t kill me!” Izuku shocked even himself with his interruption. The teenager slowed down in his assent. Izuku swallowed, keeping up the false bravado. “I mean, I have his quirk written out.” Izuku gestured to the teenager. “Who’s to say I can’t have yours just as easily? Do you really want everyone knowing your quirk?”
The teenagers eyes narrowed, wrinkles crinkling under his eyes. “You can’t do that if you're dead.”
The teenager started moving again, reaching out with both arms and hands spread wide, and Izuku had only time to close his eyes and wait to die. But somehow, death didn’t come.
Izuku opened his eyes hesitantly, coming face to face with, instead of the teenager’s angry eyes, a suit tie. Izuku followed it up to see a man standing between him and the teenager, holding the other boy back with the scruff of his hoodie.
The man was tall, with broad shoulders and body. It was He had a piece of metal around his neck, some sort of neck-brace. The brace had metal arching down from the bottom of his jaw to around the middle of his shoulders, merging seamlessly into a mask with a carved skull on it. He seemed to take up all the space in the room.
Izuku noticed the group of villains had all paused in their movements, staring at the large figure.
“Let me—go—!” The teenager ground out.
The tall man looked between him and Izuku, then sighed. He reached in front of him, lifting the jet-black skull mask off of his face. It came off with a slight click from the neck brace, which stayed around his neck, mending in with his style as if it was simply part of his suit-get up. Without the mask, though, he still looked intimidating.
Beneath the mask revealed a middle-aged looking face, around 30 or 40. He had white hair, with spots of grey around his temples, but Izuku thought the white, unlike the grey, was most likely caused by natural mutation rather than age. His face had a deep, but slightly amused, frown, while his eyes were green, dancing with some unknown narrative.
“Tomura Shigaraki, stop this,” the man said. That must be the teenagers name. The man’s deep voice addressed the group along with the teenager, “You heard the kid. You shouldn’t kill him.”
Both Izuku and the teenager, Shigaraki, gaped at him.
“Wha—Why?!” Shigaraki exclaimed, finally wrangling himself out of the villain’s hold.
The man walked forward to the group.
“The kid here just came in without an introduction. Everybody meet…” The man paused, assessing him for a moment. “Green.”
“Uh—” Izuku started.
Green? He mouthed, and the man looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows only Izuku could see. Did they just name him after his hair? And were they really so welcoming down here? Wasn’t this like a group of villains? What was going on?
“You guys heard the kid.” The man addressed the crowd of villains, “The boy,” The man looked at him, “Green, has made clear why he should be spared, right…” he looked over a few feet to the teenager. “Tomura?”
Shigaraki sighed then, kicking at the ground and shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Green, more like Spleen.”
“If you’re to insult someone, find what’s hurtful, not silly,” Sensei commented, drawing Izuku back into the situation.
Izuku tried really hard not to laugh.
“Of course, Boss!” A villain exclaimed, nodding as others followed suit. “Welcome back!”
“Yeah!” another spoke up. “We haven’t seen you in a week!”
“That’s of no consequence.” The man smiled pleasantly, and gesturing down at himself standing tall. He nodded at the group. “Now, start reconvening, rather than simply playing with a small child.” The man’s smile sharpened slightly, something dangerous. Izuku understood why he was called their boss from the authority leaking from his voice. “Human life should not be treated so carelessly.”
The air felt thick with the man’s control, and, for the first time since Izuku was down here, Izuku saw a real villain. Something he would see on front page news; something come straight out of a magazine or TV show. It was surreal, and terrifying, but it fit.
None of the villains around them moved for an agonizing few seconds. But finally a man moved forward fearlessly, patting Izuku’s shoulder.
“Green, huh? Fitting,” the villain commented. “Welcome down under.”
The lack of a negative reaction the villain spawned other villains to move. A few of them gave him similar greetings before they wandered away, scattering into different places around the room or leaving through various hallways Izuku couldn’t catch.
Well, everybody except for the teenager Shigaraki.
“Where are you all going!” he yelled shrilly. “Can’t you see!” He waved his hands at Izuku who was now just awkwardly standing. “He’s completely defenseless! Perfect for the killing!”
“Tomura, I just explained to you—” The man sounded very tired.
“Well, he’s the one who was searching for the underground!” Shigaraki threw his hands up, interrupting him. What’s the underground, Izuku thought. “Why should I be blamed for him probably dying! He was going to die down here, anyways. He was searching for this place, did you hear me? He wanted to come here!”
The man’s eyebrows rose, but he made no other sign of his surprise.
“I don’t think four in the afternoon is the correct time to be trying to murder a child,” the man continued.
“You always ruin everything!” Shigaraki started scratching his arms, agitated.
Throughout this, Izuku said nothing, not wanting to die.
Shigaraki scowled, then, turning away and straightening his hoodie over his head moodily, “I’m going to go find Kurogiri,” he said. Izuku wondered who that was. “At least he listens to me.” Shigaraki huffed, stalking away.
Izuku never wanted to be a teenager.
“Yes,” The man chuckle. “It seems a very hard time.”
Izuku internally groaned, realizing he had said that aloud. He turned to the man who had saved him from the teenager’s wrath.
“Thank you,” Izuku said “I mean for saving me from him, uh—er, Boss?”
“I am called Sensei, otherwise.”
Izuku blinked. “So, er, why does everybody call you boss, then?” He turned, glancing at the villains that had scattered around the large room.
Sensei raised an eyebrow. “What other term would they call me?”
Izuku threw his hands in wild directions. “No, no! I meant like, I don’t know, what are you even the boss of. What even is this place?”
Izuku didn’t expect the villain to answer his questions, but he had to ask, anyways. They probably didn’t want to offer information like that to a kid, after all.
To his surprise, though, the villain nodded in understanding. “We’re a association of villains, but I gather you’ve already guessed that.” Sensei looked behind them, around at the tunnels and doors they were leaving behind.
“Rather uncreative name choice,” Izuku said, thinking of the name Sensei vs Boss.
“Wouldn’t want to make things confusing.” Sensei said, and Izuku laughed.
He gestured for Izuku to follow, and Izuku scrambled to catch up with the villain’s long steps.
Sensei lead him back to the boundary where Izuku had come in with Tomura. He was weirdly silent on their walk back, eyes staring sightlessly as if he was lost in his head.
They were just at the threshold when Sensei stopped moving. Izuku turned around to face him but the villain spoke first.
“Why did you come here, kid?” Sensei asked suddenly, and Izuku frowned. “Is what Tomura said true? Did you come here deliberately?”
Izuku felt as if he was being scolded by his mother. His voice came out more petulant than he expected it to.
“Somebody attacked me, yesterday, around the alley upstairs, I wanted to come find them.”
Sensei took a second to inquire. “…And you don’t remember this person at all?”
“Nope!” Izuku popped the ‘p’. “Well, I’ll probably recognize them when I see them, right?”
Sensei hummed, laughing slightly. Izuku was about to ask him what amused him when the villain spoke.
“So, you came because you wanted to turn them in to the police?” Sensei asked.
Izuku shook his head. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind.
“No, I wanted to ask them about their quirk. I mean, what if it’s a quirk thats as cool as Kacchan’s! Or something even better! I couldn’t miss up on that, you know?”
“That was rather impressive,” Sensei said abruptly. “What you did with Tomura’s quirk.”
“Not really,” Izuku said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I do that kind of stuff all the time. Plus, I only guessed the type. Not the disintegration part—that really is fantastic, don’t you think? He was really kinda obvious in it.”
“Not to most people, it wasn’t,” Sensei said. “Words are sometimes the only defense.”
“It was the only thing I figured I could do.” Izuku told him, honestly. Sensei assessed him.
“How old are you, kid?”
“Uh, ten.”
The man gave no outward reaction to the statement, he had already probably guessed as much.
“Why the obsession with quirks, then? Don’t you have more kid-like things to be worrying about?”
“Quirks…” Izuku paused, searching for the right words. “They’re fascinating. They’ve always seemed to be so cool,” he told the man, voice filled with unsuppressed wonder. “I’ve studied them as long as I can remember. Kept journals and everything. I want to be a hero, obviously.” The way Izuku saw it, everyone wanted to be a hero. “I’m gonna need all this for when I grow up.”
“A hero?” Sensei repeated. His voice was carefully blank, but Izuku could hear an edge of contemplation in it.
Izuku paused, remembering only then where exactly they were. He looked around them, but thankfully there was no one in listening proximity, “Wait, is that, like, taboo to say down here? That I like heroes? ‘Cause if so I totally don’t.”
“Not at all,” The man replied, and Izuku’s breath released in relief. Sensei looked at him, then considered, “If you want to be a hero, why are you down here with villains?”
“A hero can’t be a hero without a villain,” Izuku said, like it was obvious, “And you guys don’t seem so evil.”
“Young Tomura tried to kill you the moment you stepped down here.”
“And failed to.” Izuku grinned. After a moment, Sensei laughed.
“You said seemed to, earlier, when talking about quirks,” The man said. “May I ask why?”
Not good. His immediate reaction was to start running away, but he paused, considering.
Had Izuku really slipped up like that? Usually, when he was around people he didn’t know, he made sure to keep it a secret until pressed. He hadn’t even thought about it when talking to the man. Sensei, in the short time Izuku had known him, seemed to be like somebody he already knew and could trust openly.
It was because of this, that, after a moment’s hesitation, Izuku answered.
“Well, I’m quirkless,” he said, bravely, looking the man in the eyes. “I don’t know what it’s like.”
Izuku was expecting opposition of some sort—it was what he had always got after he told people he was quirkless. Shock, fear, pity…he had sort-of seen it all.
Sensei’s expression, however, didn’t change. He crouched down so they were at eye-level, and Izuku pursed his lips, readying himself for some type of outburst that never came.
“Quirkless and want to be a hero, hmm?” Sensei asked.
Izuku sighed, looking away, “I know it sounds fruitless, people have told me as much. But I know myself and my dreams. I know it’s a hopeless wish, but I can’t help going after it.”
“I think you misunderstand me,” Sensei said, and Izuku looked back to him. The man smiled softly as he continued. “I mean, being a hero with no training? How do you think you’re going to stand out?”
“I was planning on just…figuring it out.” Izuku told him. Sensei raised his eyebrows before his face changed, subtly becoming more serious, determined.
“There’s a training center the floor below this one,” he said.
Izuku stared. “…what are you implying?” he asked hesitantly.
“Why else would I offer the training grounds?” Sensei said, expression unchanging.
Izuku noticed the man asked questions a lot, deferring to Izuku to answer them for him rather than just stating what he meant.
“You sound like you’re offering to train me,” he stated bluntly, staring at the other man for his reaction.
Sensei only raised an eyebrow, lips quirking up on the sides.
“You would train me? Really? Wait. But you’re like the boss, here, right? Don’t you have other things to do? You don’t even know me,” Izuku interrogated. “What’s your other motive in this?”
“You’re pretty smart, kid,” Sensei said, smiling slightly. “We could use someone like you, especially with the eye you have for quirks.”
Izuku didn’t really see his own appeal, but he wasn’t about to correct the man.
“And you really think I can be a hero?” Izuku said, voice tinged with disbelief. “Even without a quirk?”
Sensei’s lips twitched upwards again. “I think you don’t know what a hero is,” he said, softly. “A hero is someone who saves people. There’s no quirk required.”
“Oh.” Izuku opened his mouth, completely thrown. He didn’t know what else to say.
Thankfully, Sensei stood up then from his crouch, slowly, stretching and leaning back on his heels, hooded eyes looking down at where Izuku still stood.
“I like you, kid. You remind me a lot of somebody I used to know.”
“Um, thank you…?” Izuku didn’t know if that was a compliment.
“It is a good thing, I assure you.”
Izuku stared at the tall man, searching in his eyes for any sign of untruth. He came back empty, which only spawned more questions.
“You’re serious about this? About training me? You could easily be lying, right now. You could be trying to get me to come back so you can like murder me.”
“I wouldn’t say such a blatant and easily unrecoverable lie,” Sensei said. “Besides, I could get anything I could supposedly want from you right now while you’re already down here.”
Izuku thought it over for a few moments. Sensei was right. If he wanted to kill or kidnap Izuku for ransom, there would be no better time than right now to do so. He might have a quirk that required permission or trust of another party to work, but Izuku doubted literally sharing villainous schemes with someone was a valid way to gain their trust.
“Then…I guess we have ourselves a deal.” Izuku stuck out his hand, waiting patiently in the air. It felt charged with something bigger than the moment. Distantly, Izuku recognized it, as if years ago he had felt the same energy like he felt right now. “Midoriya Izuku by the way.”
Izuku waited for the other man to shake his hand, but something stopped him. At his words, the older man’s hand had froze, stuck half way forward to greet his own. Maybe he thought Izuku was incarnating some type of spell—it had happened in the past, at least. He paused and rephrased.
“I’m Midoriya Izuku.” Izuku’s hand was still out, starting tremble a bit from the effort of keeping it in front of him. Sensei’s gaze shifted from Izuku’s hand to his face.
“Hmm?” he asked.
Izuku frowned. “Hello?” He shook his hand impatiently. “I mean you told me your name, I thought it only fair I tell you mine.”
Sensei stared down at him as if he was looking at him for the first time. An expression crossed over his face Izuku couldn’t parse as he, after a more few seconds and another exaggerated shake from Izuku, finally moved his hand from where it was stuck in the air, competing the professional handshake.
Izuku wondered why his hand was trembling.
“Well, Izuku,” Sensei said, skipping straight to Izuku’s first name. Izuku went along with it, not really caring. “Feel free to come back to here, the Underground, anytime.”
Izuku grinned, pulling back his hand. “Of course!” He readjusted his backpack, briefly checking to make sure all his journals were inside. “But I really better go, now. My mom’s gonna be so worried I was out this late.”
“Your mom, yeah,” Sensei muttered before straightening himself and nodding at Izuku. “You better get going, then.”
Izuku saluted up to him, holding on to his bag with his other hand. Izuku saw Sensei smile softly as he was turning away.
“Bye, Sensei!” Izuku called as he ran back towards where he remembered the stairs were. He felt like skipping with the excess energy he was carrying, wanting to write a thousand journal entries on everything he had seen in the “Underground” or whatever they called it.
“Goodbye, Izuku,” Sensei called.
Or on the people he met. All of those villains he wanted to meet; Shigaraki, or Tomura, the kid only a few years older than him and very, very rude. And Sensei who had told him he could be a hero. Izuku’s heart felt like it was about to burst with anticipation.
It felt like something was shifting in the air. Like somehow, by going down into the underground, Izuku had changed something, moved the wind in a different direction. It felt like the start of something. Izuku was pretty sure it was going to be awesome.
Sensei seemed like a really, really cool dude.
*