No Grace to Fall From

by xenre

Summary:

Izuku Midoriya falls off a roof and into a coma. When he wakes up, he finds himself headed down a rabbit hole darker than anything Alice ever faced. A new quirk and a new debt bring with them the promise of becoming a hero. The price is high but Izuku is up to the challenge of repaying it; and rescuing his new friends while he does.

Chapter 1: A Sudden Stop

Notes:

I am open to concrit, and don't mind if you point out typos, grammar mistakes, or spelling errors. Please let me know if I've lost a plot thread or if you find a plot hole.

Also, as it has come up twice now: I don't mind if you discuss my fic wherever, make fan art, or even iterative fanfiction (Yes, you can 'steal' my OCs. Please do I put a lot of work into them and they don't get enough screen time), as long as everything is available for free/goes to charity. If you want to make a podfic of it, I'd prefer you read it yourself in your real human voice, but again, if it's free, do whatever.

And with anything, send me a link if/when you post it and link back to the fic in question.

The metaphorical door shut on Izuku Midoriya’s dream as the literal one closed behind All Might. He stood frozen on the spot, his world shattered. A distant explosion sent him running on instinct to the door. But why bother, he could never be a hero. He didn’t want to be just a fan-boy, so he should give up. Still, he needed to get off this roof. Izuku tried the doorknob. It was locked. That was just great. It had been open for All Might, but for him, it was an impenetrable barrier. He was going to have to knock and hope someone heard him. He pounded on the door for what seemed like forever but was likely only ten to twenty minutes. Then it started raining out of nowhere. With a defeated sigh, he surveyed his surroundings.

The hope of finding shelter from the rain died but a new feeling blossomed in its place.  There was a fire escape leading down from the adjacent roof. He barely hesitated at the twenty-foot drop. He hung off the edge to reduce the distance. He even almost let go before he lost his grip. Izuku managed to roll with the impact, a skill he picked up tagging along with Bakugo. He ignored the twinge of pain in his ankle. It still held his weight so it couldn’t be that bad.

The fire escape didn’t look rusted or old, so he didn’t hesitate at all. When his adrenalin-fueled hop over the top rung turned out to be more of a full-body fling he yelped in surprise, clutching the rails. But it was wet and, honestly, his grip was weak at the best of times. Izuku was grateful for the tree slowing his fall somewhat. Even though its branches scraped and cut his cheeks. Even though it wasn’t enough to stop the bone-shattering impact. Even though it was too early to be getting dark. And too cold for April.

 

Izuku could hear voices, sometimes. He was even vaguely aware of the passage of time. The first thing he was truly aware of was someone saying, “I am so, so sorry. Please come back.” He thought that it must be his mother, but then he didn’t know what she was apologizing for. Later, he heard it again. This time it sounded like Bakugo, but it was so soft and sad and his Kacchan was always loud and aggressive. So it couldn’t be him.

He heard it again and was sure he knew this third voice, but like Bakugo’s it had a strange foreign quality to it. His father maybe? It would make sense for him to take time off work and visit him. He hoped he wasn’t causing the man too much trouble.

Izuku was aware of other people talking as well; nurses, mostly, with soft kind voices. Their words directed at his visitors, or the occasional doctor. “Would you like something to drink?” “Studying hard?” “Visiting hours are over I’m afraid.” “Okay, ten more minutes, but keep this our little secret.”

It must have been days, or possibly, a week before he was aware enough to learn the daily routine. His mother visited every morning, the light a splash of warmth across his cheeks. She started by telling him about the day before but usually ended up crying and begging him to come back to her.

He tried to say, “It is okay. I’m here. I’m right here,” but he couldn’t even open his eyes let alone make his mouth work.

In the afternoon, Bakugo stopped by and did his homework. He usually just muttered about that and gave Izuku’s hand a reassuring squeeze before he left but once in a while, he’d say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t die, Deku. I’ll stop bullying you. I’ll never say anything like that again. I don’t wanna lose you.” It hurt Izuku’s heart to hear the pain in his childhood friend’s voice.

He tried to say, “I know you didn’t mean it, Kacchan. That’s just how brothers are sometimes,” but he knew he wasn’t even breathing on his own and the tubes would just be in the way.

Late in the evening, a man would visit. He thought it was his father at first but after hearing him talk more, he realized it wasn’t. “I’m sorry. I know that wasn’t what you wanted, needed to hear. And coming from your idol no less. I should have done better,” he frequently confessed. “I shouldn’t have been so harsh. You could always train hard and rely on support items, be a local or underground hero. It would be hard to do, but I should have told you that. I’m the symbol of peace. I’m supposed to spread hope.” Sometimes, all he’d say was, “I feel so useless.” And one night, after the nurse let him stay late again he told the comatose boy, “I was in your shoes. I know what I wanted to hear at that time. I should have said it to you. The only one who can answer that question is you. Can you work hard enough? Can you reach high enough? Can you hold hope in your heart and justice in your hands without a quirk? I couldn’t. It’s too big, too much. I can barely do it now. But none of that means you couldn’t. And who am I to tell you not to try?”

Izuku wants to tell him he’s not useless, he’s the number one hero after all. But he thinks that might be part of the issue. So much pressure to always be perfect, to never fail. To never show weakness or even fatigue. ‘It’s too big, too much.’ Izuku could understand that feeling. But it seemed to make All Might try harder, whereas it made him stop trying. He wished he would wake up, so he could really try. Really become a hero.

The visits started to run together with endless repetitions of, “I’m sorry,” “Please come back,” and “I’ll do better.” Izuku was glad when a new, late night, visitor broke up the soul-crushing litany.

“He seems rather… ordinary,” was the first thing he remembered these new voices saying. “According to his chart, he’s quirkless.”

“I am aware,” another voice replied. “You do not remember him?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he replied. “I see hundreds of children each year, and this would have been a decade ago.”

The visitor gave a soft but deep hum. “I think I’d like to talk to him when he wakes up.”

“That’s very unlikely.” He heard the rustling of papers.

“Why is that?”

“His condition is steadily deteriorating. While his brain activity is almost normal, his body is just too damaged. He’ll likely die by the end of the week.”

The visitor tisked at this. “Anything you can do about that?”

“No, sir.”

“Then I will come to see him in person. I really must know what All Might sees in this ordinary boy.”

“Tonight?”

“Perhaps tomorrow would be better unless his condition is so bad you can’t guarantee he’ll still be there.”

“If you’re serious, I wouldn’t risk the wait. According to his chart, his lungs keep filling with fluid.”

There was a strange fuzzy noise followed by two sets of footsteps. Then Izuku felt a pain in his gut similar to what he imagined being stabbed would feel like. He felt cold again, like when he’d hit the ground. Izuku thought he was dying. Mom, Kacchan, All Might, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault!

 

He slowly became aware of the warmth of the morning light on his cheeks. It did nothing to chase away the cold that wracked his body. He only knew that he wasn’t dead. He could hear voices but he didn’t understand the words. But he knew what they had said when his mom started crying. “Izuku took a turn for the worse in the night.”

He was vaguely aware of being moved. ICU, his foggy brain provided. He wondered if All Might would still be allowed to visit or Bakugo for that matter.

The latter was answered quickly. He was allowed in because Izuku’s mother was still there. However, the rowdy and surprisingly emotional boy got into an argument with Inko. Izuku wanted to tell them to stop. He even managed to open his eyes for a brief moment.

“You can’t do this to him!” Bakugo shouted.

“It might wake him up,” his mom rebutted.

“It might kill him!”

“He’s already dying! The doctors think –”

“The doctors don’t know him! Deku would never want to give up.”

“Don’t call him that!” Inko shouted.

“I’m sorry,” a nurse interrupted, “but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Bakugo was dragged out by his mom, and Izuku was surprised that he didn’t use his quirk.

“His temperature keeps dropping,” the nurse muttered, much closer to him now.

 

Somehow, despite the cold and increased exhaustion, Izuku’s sense of time was stronger. He knew it was later than normal when he heard All Might’s voice. Although at an appropriate volume for the setting, it was the puffed-up stage voice the man used in public, not the quiet, intimate tone he usually used in his visits with Izuku.

“Please, I can call a friend that might be able to help. I can have him here in a few days.”

“Why, why would you do that?”

“I… I met young Midoriya the day that,” he paused. “He was also attacked by that sludge villain. If it weren’t for me, he would have never been on that roof. Please,” he begged. It was an odd thing to hear, and Izuku thought it must be even stranger to see. “Let me help.”

“The doctors think he doesn’t have much longer. But I, I’m glad he got to meet his idol.” His mother started sobbing then, and the next one was muffled. Izuku hoped it was by All Might lending her a shoulder to cry on and not from her covering her mouth. She needed someone to lean on. Soon the muffled noises stopped. “I don’t want my baby to die. If there is anything, anything at all that can be done I want to try it.”

 

Much later, when everything had calmed down, he heard the fuzzy noise again. He opened his eyes to see three men in the still-dim room. The closest was seating himself in a visitor’s chair. He wore a plain black business suit with no tie and a high-tech respirator around his neck. The top half of his head was a mass of scars.

By the door, there was a man, seemingly made of black fog, wearing a grey waistcoat over a white shirt and a high metal collar. His wispy yellow eyes were glued to the hall.

The final man concerned Izuku the most. He was wearing a lab coat and had a bald head and bushy mustache. He stood over Izuku’s mother, who was asleep on a couch by the window, injecting her with something.

When the boy tried to sit up, to protest, the man in the suit gently pushed him back down. “Ah, you are awake after all. I was afraid that it wouldn’t work. That we were too late.”

He tried to respond, but there was a tube going down his throat.

“Doctor?” the man called gesturing at the boy.

“Yes, yes. I’m coming,” he responded. “And don’t worry about your mother; it’s just a mild sedative. It will help her to get some rest.” He made his way over to Izuku’s bed as he spoke. “Now try to relax, the tubes tend to scrape on the way out, so this will be unpleasant.” He switched the respirator off to prevent it from beeping.

It did hurt, but the burn faded as soon as Izuku took a breath on his own. “Wha…” he croaked. “How?”

“I’m sure you have a great many questions, young Midoriya. Who are we? What are we doing here? And so on. I will try to answer as many as I can in the time we have. Without taxing your throat, of course.” He smiled as he handed Izuku a paper cup of water. It occurred to the boy that that smile wouldn’t have reached the man’s eyes even if he’d had any. “My name is Shigaraki, my attractive friend at the door is Kurogiri –”

“Sensei,” the man in question said in a half-chiding, half-embarrassed tone.

Shigaraki chuckled. “And the good doctor is Ujiko.”

Izuku took a sip of the water. It was crisp and cool with a light and smooth mouth feel. It tasted metallic with bitter and salty undertones. It did little to soothe his throat but it did lubricate it enough to breathe comfortably.

He spoke up, even though it hurt and he couldn’t put a full sentence together. “Seen before.”

“Ah, so you remember him after all. This will make some things easier to explain. Firstly, I must apologize for, shall we be kind and say, borrowing your quirk.”

“M-my?” His eyes itched, and his body ached. Izuku rubbed at them weakly.

Shigaraki shushed him. “Don’t try to speak, young Midoriya. If you recall last night at all, I want you to know that I have returned your quirk to you. It is regrettable, but around ten years ago, I was severely injured. Right when you came to Dr. Ujiko about not having your quirk. I know it was selfish of me but I borrowed it so I would survive.”

Izuku gasped and shook his head furiously.

“Now, now. None of that,” Shigaraki said softly. He gently took the boy’s chin in his hand. “I hope one day you can forgive my selfishness. You see, your quirk accelerates healing, and can even heal old injuries over time, but it takes massive trauma to activate.” He paused and, as far as Izuku could tell, stared him straight in the eyes. “Rather, it used to. By constantly working to heal me, it has improved greatly. It would have taken months for you to heal naturally, if at all. Even then, you would have never been the same. Your quirk would have originally cut that down by ten percent; a reduction of about twenty days to reach stable condition. After working hard for ten years, though, it is much stronger. You were healed to this state in just a day and should be completely healed in a week.”

He pulled his hand away from the boy. Sitting back in the chair, he took out a handkerchief and coughed forcefully. When he tucked it back into his pocket, Izuku saw several dots of blood on it.

“You shouldn’t exert yourself,” the doctor chided.

Shigaraki waved his concerns away but before he could continue Izuku said, “You’re still…” His voice was stronger and it only hurt a little to speak.

“It’s a chronic condition, now. No quirk can fix it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I came here to apologize to you, young Midoriya,” Shigaraki replied with a warm but slightly exasperated tone. “We’ve watched you grow up. Struggling with your … disability. I should have returned this power sooner. I’m so sorry.”

Izuku knew that wasn’t right. It sounded true. It had all the right emotions behind it—a touch of shame, a distant fondness. The thing was he did remember the night before. Likely, more of it than Shigaraki realized. But, instead of voicing this, he said, “But even if I’d had it I still wouldn’t have known.”

“The doctor would have told you. I shouldn’t have –”

Izuku interrupted him, “No. It wouldn’t have mattered. Helping someone is better than having a useless quirk. If, if I had known I would have just been another reject, beneath everyone’s notice.”

After a long, heavy pause, Shigaraki said, “Beneath Katsuki Bakugo’s notice, you mean.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I know he seems like a jerk, but he’s the only one that’s always been there for me. And I’ve always been there for him. He gets upset and yells, but that’s just how his family is.”

“Your loyalty and understanding are admirable,” Shigaraki said, a more genuine smile gracing his scarred and rugged features.

Thinking about Bakugo made Izuku realize, “Oh, Crap! Kacchan thinks I tried to kill myself. He feels so bad about the last thing he said to me.” He clutched his still tender throat and coughed a little.

“Well,” Shigaraki replied, handing him the paper cup of water again, “you can tell him tomorrow, when he comes to visit, about your little accident.”

“I’m not sure they’ll let him back in,” he muttered taking a sip. It was rounder and warmer now. The water was picking up hints of the wax coating on the inside of the cup.

“I’m sure they will if you ask for him,” he offered.

Izuku nodded. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you, young Midoriya. I couldn’t have lived with myself if you didn’t make it. It would have been all my fault.” He paused for a moment. “I know this is likely overstepping, but when your Bakugo apologizes let him twist a bit.”

“That sounds mean.”

“Not at all, he just seems like the type that wouldn’t accept forgiveness if he didn’t feel he’d earned it,” Shigaraki explained. “Even though you feel he’s done nothing that needs forgiving he’s seeing how his words and actions could have hurt you. He needs to repent more than he needs forgiveness. You are the only one that can give him either.”

There was a long pause as Izuku contemplated his words. Shigaraki was exactly right about Bakugo. As brash and arrogant as the boy came off, he hated it when others just gave up and let him win. Izuku nodded, finally.

“So, tell me, what are your plans for the future?” Shigaraki asked, sitting back in the chair with that less-than-honest smile back in place. Izuku realized that they had just had a genuine moment, despite the weirdness of the situation and whatever ulterior motives the man might have.

“I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. “I thought what was holding me back was not having a quirk, but even if I had this one it wouldn’t help me be a hero.”

“What’s holding you back now?” he asked.

“I… I still want to be a hero, but it’s not that easy,” Izuku told him.

“It never is,” Shigaraki replied. He took out a business card and handed it over. “Here, if you go to this address when you get out of the hospital Kurogiri will help you with whatever you decide to do.”

“Thank you,” Izuku all but chirped. He smiled at the man, a big warm grin.

“Adorable,” Kurogiri muttered at the door.

Shigaraki chuckled and the doctor rolled his eyes behind his goggles.

Seeing a mist-bodied person blush for the first time was certainly interesting. The area below his eyes became the same purple as the edges of his form.

“One other thing before we have to go,” Shigaraki said, alleviating some of his friend’s embarrassment. “If you start to experience unusual fatigue or chills you need to eat something. Your quirk requires a great deal of energy.”

“Oh, that’s what that was.” Izuku gave a little laugh. “I thought I was dying.”

“My deepest apologies,” Shigaraki said again.

“N-no, it’s okay,” he replied. “It’s not like I would have remembered if you told me.”

“We have to go,” Kurogiri announced, moving away from the door. He looked at the boy. “I hope to see you again soon.”

Shigaraki stood and said, “Get some rest, young Midoriya. You have an uphill battle in front of you.”

The doctor shook his head as the trio made their way through Kurogiri’s misty portal. “Good luck, kid. You’re going to need it.”

Izuku was sure that that was the most honest thing any of them had said that night. He laid his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes. He was vaguely aware of a nurse checking on him before he fell asleep.

 

In the morning, he was awoken by crying and a booming voice shouting. The crying was his mother. Thankfully, she was at the side of his bed so he could put his arm around her. The voice was All Might and it cut off abruptly when he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Y-young Midoriya?!”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m still here. It’s okay. Don’t worry,” he soothed. Though which person he was talking to even Izuku couldn’t have said for sure.

“My baby!” his mother cried happily.

He had to make sure they understood one thing. “I slipped.”

“Wha?” All Might asked inarticulately.

“From the fire escape. I got onto the roof below the one we landed on. I slipped from the fire escape. I have to tell Kacchan it’s not his fault. He, he thinks I jumped.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “They threw him out yesterday. He w-was so scared. Please, Mom…” a sob garbled whatever he was going to ask but Inko just nodded and pulled out her phone.

When she stepped away to make the call, All Might stepped over to hug Izuku. “I can’t stay long.”

“Time limit,” he said with a nod. He kept his voice down. “I remember. I need to talk to you at some point. I heard a lot while I was out. But I understand you’re busy. It’ll keep. As long as you’re okay.”

“Better now.” He ruffled Izuku’s hair. “Your mother has the contact information for my personal assistant, Toshinori Yagi. I’ll, he’ll be in touch.”

“Good.” The boy smiled. All Might couldn’t help but return it. It was full of all the life and joy that the boy had been lacking recently. “I wish I had something for you to sign for Kacchan. He’s as big a fan of yours as I am.”

“Your wish is my command,” All Might told him, pulling away. He stepped past Inko, who was just finishing the brief call to Mitsuki, to grab a briefcase. He returned to the bedside, popped it open, and asked, “Which one do you think he’d like best?”

The case was full of neat stacks of All Might promotional photos. Izuku sifted through the options carefully before selecting one with All Might’s classic pose, legs apart and hands on his hips. “This one’s perfect.”

“Oh? I kind of thought it was, well, you know…” All Might trailed off not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.

“Boring?” he guessed with a shake of his head. “Only to the uninitiated. It may well be a standard hero pose, but it has a relatively rare feature, for an All Might photo. Especially the new ones.”

“And what’s that?”

“You can see your eyes clearly,” Izuku said. “It’s nice to see you really mean it when you smile.”

The boy’s smile was as warm as afternoon sunshine, but the statement hit All Might like a punch to the gut. “Well, I, uh, I hadn’t noticed that,” the hero said. “I’ll keep an eye out for it in the future.” He grabbed a sharpie and wrote one out to Izuku. You too can become a hero!

When he went to write one for Izuku’s friend the boy stopped him, “His name is Katsuki Bakugo. Only I can call him Kacchan. He gets mad when other people do.”

“Ah, thanks. That’s good to know,” he said. “He was a bit bristly when I rescued him from that sludge villain. I got the impression that he didn’t like me.”

“He was probably just embarrassed,” Izuku explained. “He’s like that a lot actually; hiding his emotions behind being loud and obnoxious.”

“Well, it’s good that he has a friend who understands him so well,” All Might said. “Um, what do you think I should write?”

He thought for a moment. “I look forward to watching you surpass me,” he said finally. At All Might’s incredulous look, Izuku explained, “Kacchan is going to be the number one hero someday. He’d appreciate something like that. Encouragement from his hero, but not condescending like those heroes that call their young fans ‘little heroes’. Kacchan hates that.”

All Might laughed. “You sure are confident in your friend, young Midoriya.” He finished signing the photo, exactly as Izuku had suggested. “I’m relieved that you’re recovering. It was touch and go there for a while.”

“I gathered,” he replied. “I’m still cold. And I’m really hungry.”

“I’ll make sure they bring you something to eat before I leave,” All Might said, giving the boy a reassuring head pat.

 

Bakugo and his mother showed up not long after, but All Might had already left. The two women listened to the doctors explain how Izuku was doing so well, so suddenly. And their boys chatted about the accident.

“I just grabbed his leg in a panic. I mean how often do you get a chance to meet your idol? Please don’t tell anyone that though. I think he’s being super vague about the incident to spare me some embarrassment,” Izuku was saying. “We talked a little when he landed, but when he left and I banged on the door like he said to. No one came. And then it started raining.”

“All Might caused that with a single punch,” Bakugo supplied, still staring reverently at the personalized autograph Izuku had secured for him. “He blasted that sludge villain apart!”

“Oh!” Izuku gasped. “That’s why he didn’t look relieved when I told him I slipped because of the rain.”

“Slipped?”

“Yeah. So, when it started raining, I looked for some cover. Instead, I spotted the fire escape on the next roof over. It wasn’t that much of a drop, and I didn’t hurt myself so I wasn’t as careful as I should have been on the ladder. My foot missed the rung and I couldn’t hold on. The tree broke my fall mostly, but it was still scary.”

“I’m so sorry, De–” Bakugo cut himself off. “Midoriya-san.”

“No, no, no! Kacchan. You can still call me Deku. I –”

“It’s mean,” Bakugo cut him off.

“I don’t care. I,” he paused. Izuku realized that he did need to let Bakugo ‘twist’ at least a little before Bakugo would accept his forgiveness. “If you wanna be a better person, good. You should. But you’ll always be Kacchan to me, and I wanna be Deku to you.”

Bakugo dropped his chin and fidgeted in his chair. “I’m sorry. I’m a terrible friend and a shitty person.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But you’re a half-decent brother.”

Bakugo’s head shot up at that. “What?”

“I wouldn’t put up with you if we weren’t close. At least I think we’re close, Kacchan.” He stared at Bakugo with wide, pleading eyes.

“I, uh, oh.” Bakugo sat with his mouth agape until Izuku reached over and closed it gently.

“You could be a better brother, though. More protective. It’s one thing for you to call me Deku, but I don’t like it when other people do it. Will you make them stop, Kacchan?”

“Yeah, of course. From now on I won’t let anyone pick on my brother.” With that, Bakugo crawled up beside Izuku and put his arm around him.

“Oh boys, we have some good news!” Mitsuki said as the women approached. Izuku wasn’t sure how good it could be if his mother was still crying, but he listened intently. “It turns out that Izu-kun has had a dormant healing quirk this whole time. That’s why he got better all of a sudden. They have to run some tests, but he’ll be home in time for your birthday.”

“Whoa,” was all Bakugo could say.

Izuku had already known and so had to act surprised. “No way!”

His mother hugged him tightly. “Oh, Izuku! I’m so happy for you.”

And honestly, Izuku was happy too.

Notes:

I will not be keeping a regular posting schedule. I have 105 chapters complete at this point, but I have and will go back and make changes as the manga/anime introduces new information (if it makes sense, unlike OfA's Backstory).

I hate quirk singularity theory and will not be using it. It does not fit with the details we've been given about cannon.

I have edited and cleaned up some posted chapters (and chapter notes) and will continue to do so at random.

Also, I'm going to do quirk bio cards down here for OCs and such.

Name:
Kanji:
Quirk:
Description:
Affiliation:
Birthday:
Height:
Blood Type:
Likes/dislikes:

Chapter 2: Better Than Men and Horses

Izuku was not happy. He had been released from the hospital and today was his first day back at school. Everything was fine, at first. Everyone was super nice to him and said how glad they were to have him back. But by lunch time that attitude had cooled. If it was just the other kids going back to the status quo, he wouldn’t have minded so much, but things had changed.

One boy said, “Useless Deku,” and didn’t get to the end of his sentence before Bakugo threatened to kill him. This he liked.

Then a girl chided him, “You’re one to talk, you were worse than anyone to him. It’s your fault he tried to kill himself.” And the rest of the class began to gang up on Bakugo, who just shut down. Izuku did not like that one bit.

They were so loud the teacher from the next room had to come and silence them; so loud that he couldn’t be heard over them. His own teacher offered to let him lie down in the nurse’s office.

“No, thank you,” Izuku said firmly. “I’m behind enough as it is.”

But that wasn’t the end of it. He was called on to read during English and was having a hard time of it. The kid on the other side of him muttered, “Bet you wish you’d succeeded now.”

The only other person to hear it was Bakugo. “Wanna say that again, bastard.” Small explosions crackled threateningly across his palm.

“Leave Deku alone!” the class rep shouted at him.

“Don’t use your quirk in class, Bakugo,” the teacher chided.

Izuku tried to explain, “He was just responding to –” but they shouted over the top of him again. It was starting to grate on him. Bakugo tried to defend himself, at first.

But someone said, “I don’t want to be in the same class as someone that drove a classmate to suicide. They should expel him!” And Bakugo just shut down again. His arms dropped to his sides and the angry expression melted off his face. The expression that replaced it was mostly neutral, except for his eyes. They were wide with horror.

He growled. He knew he needed to stop this. If Bakugo was his brother, that protection had to go both ways. He’d always tried to be there for Bakugo. He just didn’t know what he could do.

He couldn’t do anything. He stood there frozen. He was just a weakling. Useless. Pathetic. Deku. Useless. I feel so useless. All Might had said those words to him. If even he felt useless… then it wasn’t a reality, it was just a feeling. He had to get passed it.

Izuku turned to look at Bakugo. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as the rest of the class tore into the bombastic blond. Someone said, “You’ll never be a hero,” and Izuku snapped. He grabbed his chair and threw it across the room. It smashed into the teacher’s desk. The room was silent.

He took a steadying breath. “Kacchan will be the greatest hero ever. Even All Might has seen that. Don’t ever say he won’t be a hero.”

“Mid–” the teacher started gently.

“No,” Izuku cut him off. “If you were going to handle this it wouldn’t have gotten this far. You should have stopped it two years ago! For two years, everyone was calling me Useless Deku. You should have stopped it when the whole class laughed at the idea that I was applying to Yuuei. You should have stopped it when Kacchan was threatening me. But you didn’t. None of you did. All of you need to take responsibility for your part in this. You’ve all called me useless, called me weak or pathetic. Even when you weren’t doing it yourselves you were all cheering him on. So much that none of you believe that I didn’t try to kill myself.” He gave a disgusted snort. “I had just been rescued from a villain by All Might himself, and we all know what a useless fanboy I am. That was the highlight of my life. And you think I’d kill myself? I couldn’t wait to tell Kacchan, to show him the autograph All Might gave me.” He stopped again, shaking his head. “Besides, Kacchan was nearly killed the same day, by the same villain. Leave him alone, you shitty rejects.”

Bakugo gave a startled yelp when Izuku grabbed him and dragged him out of class. “Mido–”

“No,” Izuku said again, just as firmly. “I thought I could wait for you to get over it, but I can’t. I’m weak and pathetic and I miss my Kacchan. Even if you are an ass, you’re my ass. I can’t stand seeing you like that. I won’t let them treat you like that.”

“Deku,” Bakugo said softly. He hugged the other boy tightly and sobbed into his shoulder. His words were mostly incoherent, but Izuku did pick out a few repeated phrases. “I’m not a hero,” “I’m so sorry,” and “I can’t.”

“I know you didn’t mean it, and I’ll help you become the greatest hero ever,” he soothed.

Bakugo pulled away from his shoulder, a string of snot connecting the two for a moment before he scrubbed his sleeve across his face. “They’re right I’m a terrible person and I don’t deserve to live.”

Izuku pushed Bakugo to arm's length and hit him as hard as he could. While the other boy was still stunned, he grabbed his shirt and pulled him back in close. “Katsuki Bakugo if you ever say that about yourself again I will throw you across the room.”

“You, you threw a chair,” Bakugo said, blinking rapidly. “You threw a chair for me. You threw a chair at a teacher.”

He snorted. “If you want to call him that.” Izuku cupped Bakugo’s cheek gently. “We should get you to the nurse’s office. That’s starting to swell.”

In the end, the teacher called down to the nurse’s office and permitted the boys to go home early if they wanted. Neither of them got in any trouble and they opted to walk home.

“I can’t believe he let you get away with that,” Bakugo said.

“Why not? He let you get away with murder,” Izuku replied. “Or rather multiple instances of assault.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Nah, I should be thanking you, actually,” he lied. “The doctors said that using my quirk strengthens it. If you hadn’t beat me up so much, I’d be dead right now.”

Bakugo stared at him. “Still,” he said slowly, “it was fucked up of me and it won’t happen again.” 

When the pair got to Izuku’s apartment building, – even though Bakugo lived closer to the school – he turned to his friend, “I’m not going to school tomorrow. I don’t think I could do that two days in a row.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he smirked. “Poor Deku gets tired after throwing one little chair.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku chided with more cheer than disapproval in his voice.

“I’m going to go. Somebody’s got to make sure your hard work doesn’t go to waste and keep those rejects in line.”

 

The next day, Izuku found himself wandering aimlessly, anger still boiling inside him. Throwing that chair had felt good, but shutting up his classmates felt even better. He knew these feelings were bad and wrong, but he couldn’t shake them.

This made him think about Shigaraki. As bad and wrong as his feelings were, this man was likely much worse. Still, he found himself in front of a pay phone contemplating the number on the business card he’d been given. The address was for a place in Kamino Ward in Yokohama. It was only a two-hour train ride, but it was into a rougher part of Tokyo. He wasn’t about to make that trip on a whim; but, maybe he could call them.

He knew they wanted to know what All Might saw in him, so after they found out it was nothing they’d probably leave him alone. He wasn’t calling from his home, so that was safer. However, they’d known about Bakugo so that probably didn’t matter. But, giving them what they wanted meant they’d have no reason to approach his friends or family. They might hurt him for not being useful. But he was only calling them on the phone, so that wasn’t too big a concern.

Izuku dialed the number before he lost his nerve.

“Kuroi Ba,” Kurogiri answered the phone after a few rings.

“Um, hi. Uh, Kurogiri-san? It’s –”

“Izuku Midoriya,” Kurogiri said warmly. “This is sooner than expected.”

“Oh, uh sorry,” he stuttered out.

“No, no. This is a good thing. Would you like to come over? Or would you be more comfortable just chatting on the phone?”

“Um, just chatting if that’s alright.”

“Of course.”

“Only I’m on a pay phone, and I don’t know how long it will be,” he confessed.

“I can come to you if you are comfortable with that,” Kurogiri offered.

“I, I guess.”

The phone clicked and started beeping. Izuku had just hung up his end when he heard a fuzzy noise around the corner. Kurogiri stepped out adjusting his cuffs. Though Izuku could easily recognize him, he looked worlds different. Still in grey slacks, he now wore a crisp blue dress shirt, gloves, and a black egg-shaped helmet. While his skin wasn’t completely covered his identity was perfectly concealed.

“Wow, that was fast.”

“Teleportation is a handy quirk.” Kurogiri took in their surroundings. “There is a park that way, we could walk by the river as we talk. Or…” He paused and gave the boy a thorough look over. “No, you are much too nervous for a private venue. While that severely limits what we can discuss I think it is for the best.”

“Er, thanks.” Izuku headed toward the park.

“Now did you have a specific topic in mind or do you just wish for some stimulating conversation?”

“I, uh, not really, maybe, I don’t know,” he whined out the last.

“Your general confusion is understandable, and entirely expected. It is not as if you can experiment with your quirk on your own,” Kurogiri said with a dark chuckle.

“Oh, I hadn’t even thought to,” he admitted.

“Good. I, Sensei and I, would be most displeased if you went down that particular rabbit hole.” At the boy’s furrowed brow, he again chuckled. Kurogiri clarified, “Self-harm.”

“Oh. Oh! No, I would never. That’s not. I wouldn’t,” he stuttered out at slightly too high a volume.

Kurogiri rested a hand on his shoulder. “Good. I am glad that is not something we have to worry about. So in lieu of that conversation, is there anything you would like to discuss?”

He shook his head because he genuinely couldn’t think of anything to say to the man, but he started talking anyway. “I want to go to Yuuei with Kacchan but I don’t think I can get in. I was always going to try but I expected to fail without a quirk. But if I fail now it’s because I’m not good enough.”

“Easily fixed.”

Izuku squawked. The confidence in Kurogiri’s statement was startling. “How?”

“I would start you with conditioning training for two weeks or so. Then add in sparring sessions. You could be ready for a fight in as little as two months. The entrance exam is in April. We have eight months to prepare you. Enough time to learn some brawling, Jujitsu, and Krav Maga. This will also give you a good basis for refining your technique later.” After a moment’s thought, he continued. “My understanding is that you will not be allowed to use support items as you do not require them to use your quirk, so we should teach you how to make improvised weapons as well.”

“Can I really learn all that in so little time?”

“You will not master anything but you will be able to hold your own in a fight. I guarantee it.”

“I have a lot of ground to make up, on account of my quirk,” Izuku said.

“You have a lot of ground to make up, on account of your lack of training,” Kurogiri corrected. “After all some of the best pro heroes have quirks that are unsuited for fighting, but they still keep up with the likes of All Might and Endeavor in a fight.”

“Yeah, I know. I just…”

“You are used to using your quirklessness as an excuse not to succeed,” Kurogiri offered into the silence.

He nodded, tears welling in his eyes.

“It is good to shed that weakness,” Kurogiri encouraged him. “You may always feel free to cry in front of me, Midoriya-kun. I will not think of you as weak, or lesser for it. It is a step in the process of getting stronger. You will need this outlet for I will be a vicious taskmaster.”

Izuku contemplated his warning for a moment. “I um, I know you aren’t doing this out of the kindness of your heart.”

“Knowing people’s true motives is beneficial for predicting their plans and reactions.  The ‘kindness of one’s heart’ is a terrible motive. It only lasts as long as is convenient, as long as the recipient is deemed worthy of that kindness,” Kurogiri replied. Izuku was surprised that he wasn’t offended. “Is there any particular motive you suspect us of?”

“Um. Well, I know you wanna know why All Might was visiting me at the hospital,” he admitted.

“So you do remember some of the first visit,” Kurogiri said warmly. “Sensei was afraid of that.”

“But you’re not mad?”

“You called us,” he said. “That means despite your knowledge of us, you are curious about us. What we stand for, what we offer.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just…”

Kurogiri chuckled. “As promised I will train you to get you into Yuuei. Anything beyond that will be at your discretion.”

“Really?”

“If you do not wish to tell us why All Might is interested in you, I shall simply have to study you until I figure it out for myself,” the misty man replied.

He gave a nervous laugh. “Prepare to be disappointed. He was only worried because I got injured after he saved me. I’m just a quirkless, useless Deku.”

Kurogiri had been maintaining a respectable distance up to this point. Now though he pressed his lips to Izuku’s ear and spoke softly, “Then I will make you into something more, my little Kintsugi child.”

The boy gulped involuntarily, blushed brightly, and jumped back. He flailed his arms while squeaking inarticulately. “I’m not some broken pottery!”

Kurogiri chuckled again and stood straight. “This way, Midoriya-kun. You will need supplies for your training.” He started toward a nearby shopping district.

“What?! You still want to train me even though I’m useless to you?”

Whirling on the boy and spreading out his mist, Kurogiri lectured, “Firstly, just because you cannot see the value in a thing does not mean it has none. It means you lack vision, creativity, or knowledge. Second, Sensei has never been wrong about a person’s value to us. He is not in the habit of wasting resources. You will be of great use to us. It’s only a matter of figuring out what that use is.”

“You’re really scary like that,” Izuku managed to squeak out.

“And you are very cute when you are nervous,” Kurogiri replied, settling back into his usual size and shape. “You will become accustomed to people trying to intimidate you. You will learn who is a threat and when they are threatening you. But no more of this for now.” He held his hand out to the boy. “Time to go shopping.”

Izuku took it hesitantly. He regretted it almost immediately as he was dragged through a portal and, not to the nearby shopping center, but into downtown Tokyo. Kurogiri kept a tight grip on his hand as he pulled him out of the side alley they had arrived in and into a sporting goods store.

Once inside, Kurogiri released his hand. “Pick out a backpack you like while I get your weights and other equipment.”

“Uh, okay,” he headed over to the wall of gym bags. He quickly settled on one that was exactly like his school bag but in a deep forest green. It was one of Bakugo’s favorite colors. Izuku watched Kurogiri out of the corner of his eye, only to find that the man was doing the same.

As his breath evened out, he continued to track Kurogiri through the store. A small selection of weights, a jump rope, a few resistance bands, a pair of fingerless gloves, and a watch that would track his vitals and workouts were tossed into a basket. After some browsing, he added some punching mitts and an expensive-looking sandbag system, then collected Izuku and went to the counter.

“I don’t mean to pry, but shouldn’t he be in school?”

“Yes. However,” Kurogiri paused. He leaned in and spoke quietly to the man working the register. “He is my stepson; he has a mild regeneration quirk and is made fun of at school for wanting to be a hero. I thought it would not be too difficult to get him into better shape. Maybe that would stop the teasing.”

The slight oversharing set the clerk at ease “Oh. Yeah, my cousin has a similar thing. His muscles regenerate super fast. Two things to remember: do not take painkillers while you’re training. It can mess you up. You gotta listen to your body even if it heals quickly. And second, you need protein to bulk up once you tear down muscles.” He turned and grabbed a starter box off the shelf behind him. “I recommend this system. It’s not the most expensive or the highest protein but I’ve found it to be the easiest to customize. You can go low or high calorie depending on how his quirk is fueled.”

“Thank you for the recommendation,” Kurogiri said. It was honestly helpful advice. “Is there anything else you’d recommend?”

“Well, he looks wiry, so agility and strength training over just bulking up. Add some sprints to what you have planned. Do not neglect leg day. And endurance training, especially if he’s serious about being a hero,” the clerk said. He wrote a few web addresses down on the back of the store’s flier. “These sites will help you dial in your training regimen.”

“I greatly appreciate this,” Kurogiri said with a little bow. He paid for the equipment and Izuku boggled a little over the amount but was hushed. They exited the shop with everything packed away in the backpack, but with Kurogiri carrying it for now. He kept a hand on Izuku’s shoulder as they made their way through the crowds. “Next I think, a cell phone. And then lunch, perhaps.”

“I, ah, already have one,” he protested.

“A separate one so that you need not call me from a pay phone,” Kurogiri countered.

“I could ju–” the boy began.

“I would feel better if you could cut ties with us without disrupting your life,” Kurogiri cut him off. “With a separate phone, you can just throw it away. If you contact us with your own phone you would have to explain to your mother why you need a new one.”

“Oh,” he said as he was steered into another shop.

“Get whatever you like,” Kurogiri insisted. “Money is no obstacle.”

“I can’t just,” Izuku started but stopped when the yellow mist that was Kurogiri’s eyes moved in a way that he interpreted as arching his eyebrows. “I’ll try to keep it reasonable.” It wasn’t long before the boy had picked out the same kind of phone he already had but in dark grey rather than standard black. He knew it wasn’t too expensive and was very durable.

He distinguished the two nearly identical phones with small phone charms. A tin and enamel All Might giving a thumbs-up for the black, everyday phone and a randomly selected Gang Orca agency logo charm for the grey phone. Further, the lock screens on each were different headshots of All Might; a smile that shined like the sun and a glare that would strike fear into even the most hardened villain, respectively.

A full-bodied picture that made it look like All Might was holding up his notifications was the wallpaper on the black phone. On the grey phone, he set a photo he took as they left the shop.

“Did you just take a picture of me?”

“Well, sort of. I’m going to use it as the wallpaper. Here, look.” He handed the phone over. “You can’t even tell it’s a person’s shadow. It just looks like a random shot of Tokyo, but I, uh. I’ll know it’s you.”

The shot was focused on the wide stripe that was Kurogiri’s shadow but he was not in the frame and it cut off just as the curve of his shoulder started. “Very well,” Kurogiri dropped the matter. “What would you like for lunch?”

“Is katsudon okay?” he asked. “It’s my favorite.”

“So wholesome,” Kurogiri commented as he steered the boy into an alley. “This way then. I know just the place.” The other side of the portal he pushed the boy through opened in a bar. “Welcome to Kuroi Ba. Take a seat and I’ll be right out with your food.” Kurogiri disappeared through a curtain behind the bar, into what the boy assumed to be a kitchen. Although there was a sign for a restroom over the doorframe.

The bar was warmly lit. The light was not harsh by any stretch, but it wasn’t dim either. There was a jukebox to the left of the door in the corner created by a recess in the brick wall. A pair of tables and a stack of chairs were nestled in snugly, keeping the meager floor space from feeling cramped. A small TV and a disheveled-looking man in all black – save his red shoes – sat at the far end of the bar. Izuku sat at the other end, where Kurogiri had deposited the backpack.

“So,” the disheveled man said his voice creaky in a way that set Izuku on edge. “You’re Izuku Midoriya.”

“Uh, yep. I am,” he replied nervously. Where everything about Kurogiri made Izuku more comfortable – too comfortable – with him, this man just sitting there not even looking at him, made him want to run.

When he turned to look at Izuku, the boy got a better look at his frayed jeans, plain long-sleeved T-shirt, and the very realistic human hand he wore like a mask. He squeaked and started to get back up.

Kurogiri poked his head out of the kitchen. “Tomura, what do you want for lunch?”

“Whatever,” the young man sounded completely disinterested. “Pathetic. Why did you even come here?”

“Kurogiri offered to help me out,” he replied shakily.

“Be nice, Tomura,” Kurogiri called from the back.

Tomura huffed and turned back to the bar. Hesitantly, Izuku cleared his throat. “I, uh, like your shoes.”

The man looked at him again. Silence stretched between them for so long that he thought Tomura was just going to stay like that. “I like your shirt.”

Izuku looked down to check what he was wearing. The white tee shirt read ‘T-shirt’. He chuckled, “Thanks,” and sat back down.

They sat in silence until Kurogiri brought out three bowls of katsudon. “What heroes do you like, Izuku?”

“Well there’s All Might, of course,” he started. Tomura huffed and Kurogiri shushed him. “He’s always been my favorite. Strong and kind. Always smiling to reassure the world that it’s going to be okay. He’s funny and charismatic. And I’ve always looked up to him.” He paused. “Until recently.”

“What changed?” Kurogiri prompted.

“I met him,” Izuku said as if that explained everything. “He’s human. No different from us. He feels fear, loneliness, and weakness. All the strength in the world and he still feels useless.” He was silent for a moment, his lips moving slightly. He shook his head. “Ah, sorry.”

“Not at all. Do continue,” a voice came from the TV set.

“Shigaraki-san?” he asked.

“Yes,” was the simple reply. “I can so rarely get out these days but I do like to keep tabs on my people.”

Izuku smiled, feeling strangely comforted knowing that that included him.

“Anyway, you were saying?”

“Oh, ah. I was just thinking that that level of hero worship isn’t healthy, for me or the hero. As a society, we just ask too much of them. They have to be perfect all the time. It really must be crushing.”

“You think All Might is crumbling under the weight of the world?” Shigaraki asked.

“I think he’s … I guess lonely. Isolated. When I talked to him, he didn’t even realize that the blocking and lighting on his publicity photos had changed to obscure his eyes.”

“Why do you think they’d do that?”

It was a long time before Izuku answered. Each fragment of conversation, each confession to a comatose boy, drifted across his mind. “Because his smile doesn’t reach them anymore.”

“For the last five years?”

“No, it’s been longer than that. It started in his bronze age, but you could say it was for that harder more serious style that was popular at the time. It’s rare to find anything with his eye in the last ten years,” Izuku corrected. “All Might has been doing hero work for thirty years. It’s only natural that he’d get tired. Most heroes have careers that last a bit longer than sports stars. About four point six years after going solo. Barring debilitating injury, or untimely death they tend to retire in their late thirties or early forties and live off of merchandising revenue and public appearances.”

“And you still want to be a hero?” Kurogiri asked.

He turned a bright smile on him. “Of course!”

Kurogiri muttered, “Too cute,” and looked away, but Tomura said, “Nothing pisses me off more than an empty smile.”

“Hey!” Izuku snapped. “My smile isn’t empty. I love heroes and hero culture. And I want to save people! Plus, I like Kurogiri, he’s nice.”

“All Might’s smile is empty,” Tomura replied.

The boy cocked his head and thought for a moment. “I can see where you might come to that conclusion. But, outside of interviews where they have to make a good impression, there are two reasons for a hero to smile, and depending on your perspective neither of them is good.” This had the attention of the other occupants of the room. “If they face a villain they know that they outclass. They get to cut loose or show off. You know, have fun with it. The other is when things are really bad; an unbeatable villain or a horrific natural disaster. Either way, they smile to calm and reassure civilians. All Might’s smile is full of comfort, hope, and conviction.”

Tomura snorted. “So, a smiling hero is never a good sign.”

He considered this. “Yeah. I like that.”

From the TV, Shigaraki chuckled. “I’m so glad that the two of you are getting along.”

From there Tomura seemed less intimidating to Izuku. If this was what was considered getting along then he was just prickly, like Bakugo. After the trio finished their meal, Kurogiri teleported Izuku to a dingy alley near his apartment.

“The bag is really heavy,” he said.

“It will get lighter,” Kurogiri assured him. “I will text you your training regiment later tonight, but meet me at Dagobah Municipal Beach at five A.M. tomorrow for a jog.”

Izuku nodded. “Yeah, looking forward to it.”

Kurogiri’s yellow eyes narrowed, the ends wafting up in a way that made it seem as if he had smiled. “Only because you do not know what is in store for you.”

Chapter 3: Traversing Roadblocks

Shota Aizawa was hunched over his computer in the teachers’ lounge. The sun was setting, and there was only one other person there. He sighed. None of his second-year students has passed the provisional licensing exam. He knew that some of them would fail their first attempt, but this had him questioning his teaching. “Snipe?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I get you to assess my students?”

“Sure.” Matsushita set a fresh cup of coffee next to Shota. “What am I looking for?”

Shota shook his head, his already unruly hair falling farther into his face. “Why my students are so far behind where they should be.”

“Huh. I didn’t think they were, last time we had joint training.”

“I was thinking we could swap for a day. I could run whatever exercise you want.”

“Ah, I see,” Matsushita said, leaning into Shota’s space. “Not just doubting the students. You’re an excellent teacher, Aizawa-kun. You can be a bit harsh, but in a way that lights a fire in the students.”

He ducked his head at the compliment. “Thanks. But I’m clearly not lighting anyone’s fire in this group.”

“You’re pretty adaptive, too. You picked out Hario-chan as needing a gentler touch. You adjusted your approach with her.”

“Her cousin had recently been killed in the line of duty. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Exactly. You responded to your student’s needs. I’ll let you pick what they do on Monday, and Friday we’ll have another joint training exercise. Should be fun.”

 “Thanks, Matsushita-senpai.”

 

Bakugo was the first person to notice Izuku’s new behavior. He wasn’t surprised. The teachers shrugged his dropping grades off as the result of trauma and didn’t want to aggravate it if they could avoid it. Bakugo also got to see a lot of the training and studying he was doing.

“What’s up with you lately?” he demanded with a growl as they sat down under a tree for lunch.

“I was hoping that no one would notice.” Izuku sighed, his eyes tracking the erratic movements of a flock of small birds. “I need to study more and train in order to have a hope of getting into Yuuei. So, I’m only doing enough to pass here. Every second I waste on this shit school is a second I could be prepping for Yuuei. I’m going to keep skipping classes to a minimum, but that’s just so my mom doesn’t worry.”

“Deku,” Bakugo started.

“I can’t rely on my quirk like you can. I need to ace the written exam and I can’t do anything in regards to the practical. Yet. But that’s why I’m going to train so hard.” He had devoured his onigiri but picked at his fruit slices.  Fruit – especially oranges, bananas, and grapes – had smelled pungent and unpleasant since waking up from his coma.

Bakugo stared at the determined expression on his childhood friend’s face. “You want a study partner? Or a workout buddy?”

“Yeah! That would be great, Kacchan!” he gushed enthusiastically. He rambled on about his new routine, leaving out the morning jog he shared with Kurogiri. When Bakugo grimaced, Izuku backpedaled. “I mean, with my quirk, I don’t have to worry about recovery days. Heck, I don’t even sleep for more than an hour or two unless I exhaust myself. It’s really helping me make up for lost time.” When Bakugo nodded, he continued. “So it’ll be like this for about another month and a half then I’ll cut down on the conditioning training and start sparing. I was going to ask you to help with that, anyway. I mean knowing a little hand-to-hand will help you too after all.”

 

Matsushita led the exercise the way he and Aizawa had written it. Teams of three in a rescue relay – search, save, and secure – with a simulated villain attack initiated halfway through. The students seemed to do fine at first – a bit rough with the ‘victims’ in general – but when the twist was dropped they failed to adapt.

Aizawa’s students were treating the situation like a game. There was no inter-team cooperation and some of them were even sabotaging each other in order to ‘win’.

He shut the exercise down. “What the hell were you all thinking out there? Were y’all thinking?”

“Come on, Snipe-sensei, not you too,” one boy complained loudly. “It’s not our fault we didn’t pass the provisional licensing exam. Most people don’t pass their first time anyway, and we’re at a huge disadvantage with the sports festival being aired on TV!”

“Yeah, besides all of our quirks are more than enough to bust any villain!” this comment was greeted by nods of agreement and even one ‘here, here.’

Matsushita shook his head. “I expect a report from each of you on why you failed today’s lesson, by Friday. It shouldn’t take you that long to figure it out. Until you turn it in, you are prohibited from using your quirks during training.”

 

Jujitsu practice was challenging. Many hours were spent with Kurogiri sitting on Izuku’s stomach or with his legs wrapped around Kurogiri’s waist, as the man explained and demonstrated holds and counters. The boy tried to keep his thoughts concerning the proximity to himself but his blushing gave him away.

“Is something the matter?”

“N-no. It’s nothing, I swear,” Izuku stuttered his voice going an octave higher than usual.

Kurogiri hummed. “Try not to get distracted then. Always mind your surroundings.” He shifted his body off Izuku and put him in a headlock. “How do you get out of this?”

He rolled to his side, hooked his leg over Kurogiri’s, and pushed up onto his hands and knees. Kurogiri’s arms were still wrapped around his neck but he fixed that by pressing his own arm across Kurogiri’s exposed throat. When Kurogiri released him, he immediately went into an arm lock.

“Very good.” Kurogiri then showed him how to get out of the arm lock. “Now I think some practice with the bo staff. It will be one of the easiest weapons to improvise. Your staff should be around one hand taller than you are.” They practiced forms until Izuku was sure he could do them in his sleep. Finally, Kurogiri asked him, “Are you too uncomfortable with Jujitsu? We could focus on strikes, or I could bring in another trainer if that would help.”

“No. it’s fine really. I need to know this stuff. And I would be more uncomfortable with someone else,” he said, putting his staff away. “It’s just, you know.” He shrugged unsure if Kurogiri did know, and what he would think if he didn't.

Kurogiri backed Izuku to the wall and placed his hands on either side of the boy’s head. “Do not worry. I will never take advantage of you; even though you are so adorable when you blush.” He sighed and stepped away. “As much as I would love to continue teasing you, if I do not start cooking soon Tomura will order out.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“He only orders from that Indian place and he always forgets the Nan bread,” Kurogiri complained.

“Oh, the one with the really good spicy crab curry?”

“I can make better.” Kurogiri flushed when he realized he was being jealous.

“Do you have everything you need? Or do Tomura-san and I need to go to the store?”

Kurogiri smirked. “I have everything to make the curry, but you could get some bread.”

Tomura grumbled about being volunteered but Kurogiri bribed him with an offer to let him buy snacks while they were out.

The streets in Kamino Ward were dimly lit. Since the fall, Izuku had had trouble seeing very far in the dark. Or was it since he got his quirk? Colors were muted in the dim light, but shapes were crisper and clearer. Being nearsighted at night was a small price to pay to be able to make out the face of the drug dealer loitering in the alley across the street. Or the bulge in the prostitute at the corner’s pants that did not mean she was happy to see them.

As the two young men walked to the store, they talked about video games. “Lunar Gaia is okay, but the franchise didn’t really come into its own until Blue Heart.”

“I don’t care for the Berserk System,” Izuku replied. “It’s just a reskinned Limit Break, and it doesn’t make sense for all of the classes.”

“Then ignore it, the mechanics aren’t what make the series. It’s the story. When the Emperor of Sorrow was introduced it really took the games to the next level.”

“It was kind of cheap to make him and Seluna the same extinct race though.”

“Only if you believe Vayne. He has every reason to lie, and I bet he’s the next end boss.”

Izuku chuckled and went to ask, “You don’t play the side games, do you?” but he bumped Tomura’s shoulder with his own at the same time and only got out the first word.

Tomura shoved him violently, the arm of his jacket disintegrating. His skin burned where all five fingers had momentarily grazed him. Tomura took an instinctive step back and growled, “Don’t touch me.”

From his place on the sidewalk, Izuku blinked up at him. Tears threatened the corners of his eyes. His heart hammered in his chest. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t, didn’t know.”

Tomura pulled his hood up. “Just, no touching.” He turned away and started for the store again.

“Okay,” he agreed. His mind whirled as he picked himself up and jogged to catch up. He pulled his jacket off. It made sense that Tomura would be touch adverse with his quirk; always on disintegration. His reaction was as much for others’ protection as his own. Even if he wouldn’t frame it like that. He took a steadying breath. “I should have realized.”

“Forget it,” Tomura snapped. Izuku flinched at his harsh tone but reminded himself that the other young man was likely embarrassed about overreacting. He’s quieter but he’s still like Kacchan when it comes to emotions.

 

Shota and Matsushita were reviewing their lesson plans. They were basically the same plans Snipe had been using for the last ten years, with minor improvements and alterations here and there. He reviewed it and submitted it to Nezu every year. If there was a flaw in the lessons he had no idea where.

“Your class did well,” Shota told him, “Togata and Amajiki especially.”

“Getting Amajiki to come out of his shell is no mean feat. Working with Fat Gum has really helped him out.”

Shota nodded. “He’s got anxiety. I took him aside and suggested he talk to Hound Dog about it.”

“How’d he take that?”

“Just fine. I softened it by letting him know I have anxiety too, and get therapy. It helps to know someone’s concerned about the root problem, not just masking the symptoms.” Shota pulled his phone out. “Here, I split the two of them up in the second round, and he didn’t do too bad in a leadership role. He’ll be soft-spoken, but he’s otherwise well-rounded.”

“Well, that seals it,” Matsushita declared. “It isn’t the lessons and it isn’t you. You got more out of my problem student than I did. They really don’t seem to get the importance of rescues and the value of teamwork.”

“Then that’s what we’ll focus on until the summer training camp.”

 

After a month of both boys neglecting their schoolwork, the school felt they had no choice but to visit their parents. The visit was combined for convenience and held at Bakugo’s parents’ house.

“It was one thing when Izuku had just gotten out of the hospital, but now it’s both of them. I’ve talked to them about it separately and together and their attitudes are just getting worse,” the teacher finished explaining.

“I don’t understand how Izuku’s grades could be slipping,” Inko said. “All I ever see him do lately is study.”

“Have you asked him what he is studying?” the teacher prompted.

“Izuku?” Inko asked her son who was squeezed into the second armchair, with a grumbling Bakugo, reading a book.

“Huh?” He looked up and took a second to process the situation. He hadn’t been paying enough attention to know which issue was being discussed so he decided to answer for both. “I’m passing in every subject. We both are. And if people would stop calling me Deku, saying I’m useless, or that I should have succeeded in killing myself I would get into fewer ‘arguments’.” After a pause, he added, “Or bullying Kacchan, since you can’t seem to put a stop to it I can and will.” Izuku returned to his book.

“I hadn’t gotten to your behavioral issues ye –” the teacher began snidely.

“Don’t start with us,” Bakugo snapped. “We’re the least of your problems on that front.”

“No respect,” the teacher reiterated pointing at the boys.

“Earn it,” Izuku said without looking up. “You let me be bullied to the point of suicide. You’re letting the same thing happen to Kacchan now that I’m not an acceptable target.”

Teacher sputtered. “Now see here! You threw a chair!”

“I knew that’d get thrown back in my face,” Izuku muttered.

“I’d have actually thrown it back at you,” Bakugo ribbed him.

“You have a spine,” he replied dryly. 

Inko chastised them, causing her son to squirm uncomfortably, but Mitsuki beamed brightly. “Are you kidding? This is wonderful! These two haven’t gotten along this well since they were toddlers. It warms my heart that they’ve mended their friendship.” She turned to address the boys. “Izuku-kun, did you really throw a chair? That’s so unlike you.”

He closed his book and hung his head. “Yes ma’am, I did. But they were saying awful things about Kacchan. Acting like they didn’t tease and bully me just as much; like he was the only one at fault. Everyone was yelling and no one was listening.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I just wanted them to shut up,” Izuku said his voice cracking as the tears overflowed. He took a breath and continued, “Kacchan visited me every day in the hospital. I could hear him. How much it hurt to see me like that. How scared he was that I’d die and it was his fault. Seeing it again. Seeing him shut down like that, I couldn’t – I had to stop it. I won’t let anyone hurt Kacchan like that. I don’t care if you expel me.” Izuku stood abruptly, dropping his book, and stormed out of the room.

Bakugo picked up the book. “Don’t get pissy with us because your school’s not a stepping stone to Yuuei, it’s a roadblock. We’re just doing our best to get around it.”

“Bakugo,” the teacher started.

“Shut up,” the boy snapped. “I wasn’t finished. Two things: one, you expel him and I will make the rest of your pathetic, meaningless life a living hell. Two,” he turned and grabbed a packet of papers off the shelf behind the chair, “this is the most recommended Yuuei prep coursework. This is what we’ve been doing. In addition to the bare minimum of the normal coursework. Let us turn this stuff in instead. It doesn’t matter if your brutal ‘coz we pissed you off, brutal is good. We need the challenge. Getting into Yuuei is all that matters.”

“You both passed the practice exam,” the teacher said.

“The acceptance rate for Yuuei is twenty-four percent. But that includes the Support and Business Courses. With just the General and Hero Courses its ten percent. The Hero Course on its own knocks that down to three percent. We are going to be competing for forty slots against twelve hundred students. Deku is banking on the General Course at this point, but for the first time he’s actually reaching for his dream of becoming a hero,” Bakugo explained. “If you try to take that away from him… just remember that I’m still the top student in your class and I have explosive anger management issues.”

“Katsuki, don’t threaten your teacher,” Mitsuki said, right before she gave him a sharp smack to the back of the head. The teacher looked uncomfortable but said nothing. “That seems reasonable considering the circumstance. Doesn’t it?” She looked pointedly at the teacher. “They prove that they’re not slacking off and we don’t make a fuss about the honestly criminal negligence going on in your classroom.” Mitsuki smiled brightly at him.

The teacher floundered for a full minute but ended up sighing. “I’ll see if I can get the other teachers on board.”

“Good. I’m glad we could settle this without causing a scandal that would mar the school’s reputation,” she replied, her tone sunny and genuine. It clearly unsettled the teacher.

Inko quietly asked, “Why wasn’t I informed that Izuku was having outbursts like this?”

“He only threw a chair once,” Bakugo said defensively.

Ignoring him the teacher explained, “Apart from the one incident and his slipping grades, Izuku is actually doing better than before his, uh, accident. He’s more social, he barely stutters, and any time he’s gotten into an argument with another student it’s been in the defense of Bakugo. Honestly, I think he’d be a model student if we could separate them.”

Tiny explosions rippled across Bakugo’s palms as he growled low in his throat.

“Katsuki, kitchen, now,” his mother ordered.

“Fine, whatever,” he replied. “I’ll start dinner. But he ain’t stayin’.”

Mitsuki just waved him off, but Inko said, “It’s been traumatic for both of them.”

               

Shota sighed.

“You’re too hard on us!” one of his girls was complaining. “We need a break.”

“Ten minutes,” he agreed. “Get some water and think about better solutions.” He wasn’t about to tell them that the exercise was impossible if they didn’t work together, but he hoped they’d figure it out on their own.

He listened while they talked to each other, pretending to be on his phone. “This sucks.”

“Aizawa sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Shh. Don’t let him hear you.”

“What more could he possibly do to us?”

“He’d think of something.”

“I say when the break is over we just ignore him until the end of class.”

“He would expel you.”

“He can’t expel us all.”

He could, actually, but Shota decided that if they could do even this one thing as a class, he wouldn’t punish them for it. He was going to make it the hardest sit in they would ever be involved in, but a win was a win.

Shota let them have an extra five minutes to see if they started strategizing, either about the exercise or the protest, before barking, “Break’s over! I want to see someone with that flag by the end of class or everyone is losing their chairs tomorrow.”

Half the class blanched. One girl dropped to her knees and started crying. He would have reconsidered the punishment if she hadn’t tried that four times in the last month.

“I don’t see anyone climbing,” he chided. “Better get used to standing, Nakaya.”

“If you do that, I’ll report you to Nezu.”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “You do that.”

“I hate you,” one of them muttered.

“Good.”

 

After a few days of the new system, Izuku texted Kurogiri while in class. He balanced the phone on his leg and tapped out the message with his left hand. I’m bored.

Thankfully, he had the foresight to turn off the sound and vibration. A few minutes later a reply appeared. Are you at school?

Yeah.

You should pay attention to the lecture. The written portion of the Yuuei entrance exam is quite challenging and covers a wide selection of subjects.

It’s hero history, trust me I know the subject. After a moment of thought he added, I need a break.

Very well. Do you have a topic in mind?

No, the boy admitted.

Izuku had to keep glancing down to see if there was a reply. But he didn’t want to get caught so he couldn’t do it often. Eventually, he caught sight of Kurogiri’s response. Send me a picture.

???

How articulate.

Izuku sat in class and stared straight ahead, not looking down for a very long time. Or, rather it seemed like a long time to him. Slowly he typed a response. I mean WHAT? I’m underage and, you know, a guy!

I am a criminal that has repeatedly commented on how cute and adorable I find you.

um… I’m at school, he sent back. He tried not to look at his phone now. He had been ignoring that part of Kurogiri’s personality. He tried to convince himself that the man just liked cute things, or was just teasing him. He couldn’t just ignore it anymore. But Kurogiri was almost always respectful of his boundaries, and if he was honest with himself, he had liked the few violations that slipped through. A comforting hand on his shoulder, a promise whispered with lips pressed against his ear, even being dragged through a portal by the wrist. And the time spent on their morning jog was usually the best part of his day. Kurogiri was calm and understanding. A small part of Izuku was glad that some of that was from genuine attraction and not just working an asset.

You can either send me a picture or pay attention to your instructor. I will not be upset with you either way.

Izuku sent him a frowning emoji. He tried to pay attention after that, but it was harder now than before he texted. His mind drifted to how he would even take a picture. The easiest solution was to wait for the break and slip into the restroom. But, that would only encourage the taking of a risqué picture, something he wasn’t sure he even wanted to do. Of course, that was what Kurogiri wanted. Or he just wanted him to think that so he’d go back to his lessons.

He straightened his legs like he was stretching and snapped a photo. Glancing at it to make sure it wasn’t too blurry he saw that it had captured only his feet, clad in black socks and stark white slippers, and his shins in his black uniform slacks. He hit send anyway.

Perfect. Kurogiri’s reply made his insides flutter. As did the following photo: Kurogiri’s own feet clad in black leather dress shoes, and his legs up to the knee in dark grey slacks.

Izuku didn’t know what to reply with but he wanted the conversation to continue. So, he sent a string of random happy emojis. When a few minutes passed without a response he sent, I feel better after talking with you.

Perhaps it is because you are free to be yourself.

It’s almost break. Do you want a better picture?

No. As I said, the one you sent was perfect. It is not as though I did not know you were in class.

I want to spend the day with you, soon.

Are you free this Saturday?

Yeah!

 

Izuku had just finished a workout with Bakugo and was going to put his shoes back on when he saw them next to the deer scare in a sunbeam. He grabbed the grey phone out of his bag and took a picture. 

He found himself sending pictures like that to Kurogiri quite often as he waited for Saturday to arrive: His shoes at the front door, his shadow at the park, a lone duck in a large puddle in a parking lot, his feet with one sock pulled down to expose his ankle with the message; I’ve been dying to send you a racy pic, I hope you like it.

And to his eternal delight, Kurogiri responded in kind: his and Tomura’s breakfast, a bird making a nest in the vent for the broken AC unit, his shadow in front of a hero merchandise shop, his feet clad only in socks with one pant leg pushed up to reveal a sock garter.

That is legitimately sexy. I will never be able to concentrate again knowing that’s a thing, Izuku sent back.

 

After their morning jog, Kurogiri warped them to Kuroi ba. Tomura was absent and there was a DVD player set up in front of the TV. Kurogiri ran him through some basic drills, so as to not waste their warm-up, but the day was primarily one of relaxation.

Kurogiri made him breakfast; miso, rice, grilled salmon, and pickled vegetables. Then they played a trivia game for an hour. Izuku did very well despite being half Kurogiri’s age. They spent three hours binge-watching a mail-order DVD series on quirk analysis.

“He’s wrong about Endeavor not being as powerful as All Might,” he complained. “The difference between them is marketing. Endeavor is too serious to appeal to young children, middle-aged women, or the fifteen to twenty-five demographic. Plus he and All Might hit the scene here in Japan at around the same time since All Might took time to go to university in America.”

“It is difficult to quantify the power levels of such dispirit quirks,” Kurogiri said from the chair beside him.

“Not if you convert the power output into Newtons. Despite his quirk being better suited for long-range, Endeavor likes to get up close and personal with villains. They both have the control to keep from doing lasting damage. They both utilize their quirk for mobility. But honestly, they can both muster around a third of the force of an atomic bomb if they need to. It’s just that All Might comes in at the highest level he thinks is needed to end it quickly, but Endeavor has to play it more cautiously because of the potential fallout.”

“So his ‘warm-up’ time leads people to view him as weaker than All Might.”

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong; All Might is still better than Endeavor, but it’s not about power, it’s about personality.”

Kurogiri stood and stretched. “I know it’s a bit late but I got you a gift for your birthday.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Izuku said with an eager smile.

“I’m well aware.” He moved around the bar and came back with a loot box-sized gift wrapped in blue Pro Hero Wash paper.

Izuku carefully removed the paper and set it aside. The box was a plain cardboard box. He opened it and gasped. Nestled in packing foam was a high-end art tablet with a pen, detachable keyboard, and travel case that looked like a fancy notebook.

“I can’t accept this.”

“And why not?”

“It’s so expensive!”

“It’s fine. You were saying you needed a new notebook.”

“Yeah, a composition book!”

“But you do drawings in it too, this is better for that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. This model costs like forty-five thousand yen! How can you afford this?”

After a brief pause, Kurogiri’s eyes shifted in a way that seemed mischievous. “It fell off the back of a truck.”

“I can’t!” Izuku squeaked, but he was already taking out of the box and running his hand over it lovingly. He booted it up. It ran quickly and smoothly. He did a quick sketch of All Might and jotted his basic stats next to him. 

Kurogiri chuckled. “Now, would you like to go out for a bit, have lunch, or play a game?”

“The way you say that sounds dangerous,” Izuku said blushing. He secured the tablet and its accessories in the case.

“Only if you want it to be,” Kurogiri teased. “We can do anything you want.”

The boy covered his face and squeaked. “Uh, we could do more trivia?”

“Alright. Let’s see…” Kurogiri tilled his head and tapped his finger against where Izuku presumed his chin would be. “How many vigilantes were operating when the Rhode Island New State Statue was put in place and how many became heroes?”

“One hundred and eighty-nine, and only seven. What was former number five hero Arcana’s quirk and what was its biggest weakness?”

“Telekinetic control of tarot cards, and I don’t know actually.”

Izuku shook his head. “Illusions, and they were transparent. The tarot cards were a support item. Honestly, the only reason Arcana was the number five hero was their stage magic show.”

“Fair enough. How would you take out Kamui Woods?”

“That is not a trivia question.”

“Humor me.”

“A flamethrower or bomb would be the most obvious, but both have major drawbacks. Bombs are dangerous and imprecise. A flamethrower would put you in fairly close combat. Poisoning him with Picloram would probably work. Injection would be the best way, but you could just spray him with it if you used enough.” Izuku continued to mutter about delivery methods and concentrations.

“Picloram?”

“It’s an herbicide used to kill hardy trees and broad-leafed plants. It’s practically nontoxic to mammals, birds, and bees.”

Kurogiri laughed. Usually, he chuckled at things as if barely affected by the world around him, but this was a clear, deep laugh. It sent a shiver down Izuku’s spine.

“The only downside is that it’s kind of slow-acting. It takes about a month to work. But most hospitals wouldn’t check for it without a reason.”

“Because it’s practically nontoxic.”

“Unless you’re a plant,” Izuku replied cheekily. “If we’re doing non-trivia, then… have you ever been in a fight with heroes? And who?”

“Yes,” Kurogiri answered. He took a moment before saying, “Over the last fifteen years I have fought with, and even killed, many low-level pro heroes. I do not remember them all. Of the ones that stand out, let me see. O’clock was notable, Mister Blaster less so. Siren was shocked her quirk did not affect me. Shadow Boxer, Puppeteer, and Marionette were interesting.  Firefly, Lightning Bug, and Cicadae did not live up to their potential.  Nightlight, Spotlight, and Darklight exceeded their quirks' limitations.” He stopped. “I think that should suffice for now.”

Izuku swallowed. His eyes had gone wide and his face pale. “Uh…”

“I am not the one that killed Lighting Bug,” Kurogiri said curtly, but without snapping. The murder had been particularly gruesome and he sounded as though he found it distasteful. Kurogiri went behind the bar and got them both water. “How would you utilize the villain Moonfish in combat?”

It took Izuku a few moments to calm himself. He sipped the water to buy some time. it was crisp and sharp with a faint hint of plastic and an undertone that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The mouthfeel was almost silky. “Uh, I guess it depends on if he’s as crazy as the police think he is. If that’s the case then as a distraction, maybe even to secure an escape. Send him in as a frontal assault and stealth in for whatever the mission objective is.”

“Wasteful,” Kurogiri said. “He is obsessed with cannibalism but will carry out clear instructions when given them.”

“Then I guess it depends on the objective, doesn’t it? His quirk is useful for mobility and frontline fighting but isn’t geared toward stealth or teamwork. It could be used for field control, though.” Izuku paused. When Kurogiri nodded he asked, “Have you ever worked with someone that scared you?”

“Yes. In the abstract Ujiko, Sensei, and even Tomura are frightening, but in a more real, visceral sense Mamushi was far more terrifying. That woman wanted to sink her fangs into someone and did not care if they were an ally. Thankfully, we did not work together for long.”

“I’ve never heard of her,” Izuku admitted.

“Nor will you. Sensei did not like her threatening Tomura, even if he was a mouthy child.” Kurogiri let that fact sink in before saying, “You never did say what other heroes you liked.”

It wasn’t exactly a question but Izuku jumped at the opportunity to change the topic. “Oh! Hawks is cool; his quirk is so versatile! Every time I hear about him, he’s using it in a new way. Edgeshot has a straightforward quirk but uses it very effectively. Mirko is really athletic. Ryukyu is awesome. I mean who wouldn’t want to turn into a dragon? Gang Orca seems intimidating, but there are all these informative videos about sea life on his website and he gives aquarium tours to underprivileged kids! Fat Gum is incredibly resilient and can absorb 15,000 joules per pound of excess fat; which is slightly more than the joules to calorie ratio.” He paused. “Blackout is local but he’s always out around sunset doing patrols, so I’ve seen him take down a few muggers. Star Dust took a kind of lame dust manipulation quirk and really turned it into an amazing power. She carries different types of glitter as support gear. Alleyway Echo is practically a vigilante, but his metrics are on par with those in the top one hundred. Plus, he works with underground heroes all the time. That’s not the full list but now you’ve got the top ten.”

“That’s an interesting list, and now I have ideas on what to get to spoil you.”

“In that case, what kinds of gifts do you like? And when’s your birthday?”

“The fifth of May,” he replied quickly, then as if he thought better of it he said, “That’s not true. It’s September ninth. It’s the day I met Sensei.” He frowned for a moment then shook his head as if clearing it. “I like cute things. Cats. I love sushi. Tea. Self-care items. I don’t keep a lot of material possessions.”

Before he could ask another question, Tomura came upstairs. “When’s lunch? I’m out of noodles.”

“Can we make sushi?” Izuku asked.

“I think we have everything,” Kurogiri said with a nod. He led Izuku into the kitchen. “How much do each of the top ten heroes weigh?”

“All Might is six hundred pounds. Endeavor is two-sixty,” he began rattling off the statistics with ease.

Notes:

Just a couple of 'Fun Facts' type notes:

I wrote this chapter before the Kurogiri reveal, and the only thing I needed to change was him giving his birthday 'wrong' at first. The weapon of choice was dead on, and I made more changes in chapter 23 due to this info than here. (Kinda self-reporting on how long it takes me to write a chapter.)

According to Vilgianties Aizawa started working at Yuuei five years before Izuku attends, which means he would have had one class that made it all the way through and one that only made it two years. Plus Snipe is described as 'in charge of the third-year students' in the My Hero Academia: Ultra Archive: The Official Character Guide (at least according to the wiki). That combined with Ms. Joke's comment about him having all his students makes me think that the 'Expell and Reinstate' thing is a retcon. So, in this, he Expels and Transfers students to Gen Ed. Expulsion is a long process so he doesn't need to give them a second chance as that's baked into the process already. None of this immediate expulsion BS.

So, I gave Snipe a name (Matsushita) but I couldn't find the meaning in my notes :(. I swear it had something to do with arrows or archery, but when I googled it I came up with three options, mostly about trees. I moved the 'arrow' meaning to his previously unassigned given name and searched around until I found a variation that referenced his origins in the My Hero One-shot. I'm happy with it.

Bio Card
Name: Akiya Matsushita “Snipe”
Kanji: 末下 陽矢
陽 sun, sunlight, positive, male, daytime; 矢 arrow, dart
末 end, tip, final, conclusion; 下 below, down, under
Quirk: Homing – any projectile he releases locks onto any target he can see within six hundred meters.
Description: Mysterious Cowboy in a gasmask
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: November 7
Height: 5’11”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Horses, archery/target shooting, and fringe.

Chapter 4: Further Down the Rabbit Hole

August marked an uptick in Izuku’s training. Sundays he stayed home and helped around the house, but on the other six days, he would spend the morning with Kurogiri. Three days a week, he worked out with Bakugo in the afternoons and made dinner with his mother. The other three were spent fighting.

The first time Kurogiri teleported him into a bar for a fight he was nervous. It wasn’t like Kuroi Ba, clean and well-lit. This bar was crowded and smoke-filled with mismatched tables. It reeked of spilled beer and a sharp undertone that Izuku couldn’t decide if it was urine or blood.

Kurogiri approached a table of five men in their early twenties. He held up five thousand yen. “I have a proposition if one of you is interested.” He led the boy out the back into a trash-strewn alley without looking back.

“I think they might get the wrong impression, the way you said that,” he complained.

“Good. It means if they are interested they’ll have no qualms about hurting you,” Kurogiri replied.

It was a few minutes before a man in faded jeans and a tight black T-shirt joined them. He had short bleached blond hair. He was wearing one bright orange and one bright blue tennis shoe; his sunglasses matched. Izuku figured it advertised his quirk somehow. “Wha’d’ya have in mind?”

“Nothing too heinous,” he assured the man. “I want you to beat this boy until he is lying on the ground in the fetal position and crying. No quirks, no weapons.”

“You are one sick puppy,” the man said grinning. “Half up front.”

“You have no idea,” Kurogiri replied, handing him half the cash. “He may hit back if he is able.”

The man just smirked and swung at Izuku. It was a wide and wild right hook, and he telegraphed like it was from the 1800s, but it connected all the same. Izuku staggered back, creating distance, giving himself time to put his fists up.

Izuku’s footwork was cleaner, but the man was faster. Even with just a few weeks of training, he could see that the man’s moves were sloppy, likely from alcohol. It just didn’t do him any good as the man battered his arms, sides, and stomach. Izuku took a chance to throw a punch of his own, hitting the guy in the sternum with everything he had.

The man staggered back. “Boy-o ain’t playing around,” he said as he adopted an actual fighting stance.

Izuku swallowed hard. And then he woke up on the floor of Kuroi ba. He tried to ask what happened but all that came out was a piteous moan. He clutched his throbbing head.

“He’s not dead,” Tomura said.

“Good, I was worried he had a concussion,” was Kurogiri’s reply. He came out from behind the bar and knelt beside Izuku. “Drink this; it will help with the chills.”

He gladly sipped at the foul-tasting protein shake that was rested against his lips. It was supposed to taste like chocolate, but it was just chalky and left a waxy film on the roof of his mouth. The important thing was the high-calorie count. The rapid healing his quirk provided cost him a lot of energy. Any bruising would be healed in a little more than two hours, but it would burn away both his excess fat and his body heat.

“Would you like a blanket?” Kurogiri asked.

Izuku tried to say ‘I’m okay,’ as he sat up but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, he gave a little whimper and nodded his head.

He was swaddled in a warm blanket and lifted onto a barstool. As soon as they were sure he could stay on the stool, miso soup, takoyaki, and a beef bowl were placed in front of him. 

When Izuku tried to tell them, he couldn’t eat all of it his mouth refused to work.

“Eat the rice and miso first,” Tomura said in his creaky voice. “That way if you can’t finish I can have the good stuff.”

Izuku laughed, and while it was a voiceless huff of air, he felt a tension melt out of him that had been present since he and Kurogiri entered that other bar. He took a few bites of the rice that the beef rested on before shivering and turning to the soup. He downed half of the hot liquid in one go. From there he alternated between the soup and rice until both were gone. When he tried the takoyaki his words finally returned to him. “This is so good!”

Kurogiri smiled with pride at the compliment as Tomura stole a piece from his plate. “It is one of Tomura’s favorites, so I have had a lot of practice.”

Izuku nodded and shared more of the takoyaki with him. He ended up eating more than he thought he would, and the leftovers from the beef bowl were added to a bento box for him to take home. Kurogiri spent the time while his bruises were fading going over the fight and modifying his training regiment accordingly.

It was nearly sunset by the time he warped them back to the trash-covered beach. “I thought a stroll before I sent you home would be nice. To, hopefully, take some of the sting out of today,” Kurogiri said quietly.

Izuku looked up at him with a shy smile. “I’m fine really. I agreed to this. So, as romantic as a walk on the beach sounds, you don’t have anything to make up for.”

“You were so quiet after, I thought you were upset with me,” he confessed.

He turned away from him and explained, “I couldn’t talk. I tried to let you know I was okay, but nothing came out.”

Kurogiri was silent for a long time. Finally, he moved in front of the boy. “If it happens again, just use hand signs.”

“Oh,” Izuku said, feeling dumb for not thinking of that. “Yeah. Thanks!” he said and fixed Kurogiri with a bright smile.

The man took out his phone and quickly snapped a picture. “That reminds me, I got this for you. I know you like All Might of course, but nothing of him would have survived long around Tomura. You chose his logo for the phone so I hope this is to your liking.” He held up a small Gang Orca plushie.

Izuku took the plushie and hugged him. “Oh my gosh. I love it. I know all of my merch is All Might, but I’ve been meaning to fix that. This is perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he blabbered. Kurogiri petted his shoulders and hair until the boy stood up and offered, “Um, so we could take a walk anyway.” He fidgeted with the hem of his ‘All M’ T-shirt. “If you still want to.”

“I would love to,” Kurogiri replied with a smile. “I thought you would be too uncomfortable with the idea when you called it romantic.”

“Well, erm. I know it’s wrong, but I like the attention,” Izuku told him. “I just hope I’m not leading you on.”

“I will never force you to do anything you are not ready for,” Kurogiri promised. “Or be angry with you for not being ready for something. Even if you are never ready.”

The boy gulped. He didn’t understand why being told he could take his time made him feel flushed and bold, only that it did. He gripped the bottom of his shirt and asked, “Would you like a racier pic?”

Kurogiri caught his wrist as he lifted the shirt to reveal a trace of his developing abs. “No. You are still so uncertain about all of this. It would show through in your expressive face. Nothing is more attractive to me than the confidence we are building in you, and your honest, breathtaking smile.”

Izuku stared at him in stunned silence for several thunderous heartbeats. He considered leaning up and kissing him on the cheek but dismissed it when the mere thought made him blush to the tips of his ears. Instead, he asked, “Um… can you kiss?”

“Of course,” he replied gazing out at the sunset as they resumed walking.

“And…”

“Everything.”

“Would you kiss me?” Izuku looked out over the ocean as well.

“Hmm. I would like that very much, but I don’t think you would,” Kurogiri replied after some contemplation.

“Why not?”

“You are often soft, timid, and nervous but when you really want something you are determined and fierce. When you are ready you will not ask, you will act. Just know that you have my full consent,” he explained.

It made him feel warm all over. It was both heartwarming in that Kurogiri was willing to be patient and arousing knowing that he had permission to kiss the man whenever he wanted.

Izuku decided that he needed to change the subject so he would stop blushing before he got home. “You always tell me I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”

“I mean it.”

“But what if Shigaraki wants –”

Kurogiri gave a dark chuckle. “He is well aware of the best way to groom a valuable asset. Forcing you would only make you resentful and rebellious.”

“Wow, just coming out with it like that.”

“Deception would not foster genuine loyalty or affection,” Kurogiri said, placing his hand on Izuku’s shoulder.

“Genuine affection?”

“He does look after his people and their needs.”

“He’s kinda… he comes off as sort of both cold and lukewarm. If that makes any sense,” he said.

“Sensei is very reserved emotionally, but he does care about us. His actions speak volumes,” Kurogiri reassured him. “He took Tomura in and raised him as his own son. He saved me from the brink of death, and gave me purpose. And he will see your dream of becoming a pro hero to fruition.”

“Because I have value to him.”

“You have value full stop. He does not see some hidden mysterious potential no one else can. You are amazing. You endure so much pain, smile like the sun, and thank us for the experience.”

“I was broken, but you, and Shigaraki-san, are repairing me with gold. You’re the only reason I have a shot at Yuuei.”

“You put the work in. You take the blows. You run a mile plus every day. You do not quit even when your body has reached its limit,” Kurogiri growled. He pulled Izuku close to him and leaned down. His lips brushed the boy’s ear as he spoke. “You could take the training regiment and keep going on your own. It is all you now. All you need to do is not stop. You could fling the phone into the sea and be rid of us. You would still earn a spot in Yuuei. Because you are incredible. Not your quirk, you.”

“I don’t want that,” Izuku confessed. “I shouldn’t want to be around you. I shouldn’t like Tomura. I shouldn’t feel warm at the thought of Shigaraki– of Sensei actually caring about me. I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Kurogiri smiled. “You have chosen a hard path, but you can walk it, Midoriya-kun.”

“You can call me Izuku if you like.”

“Izuku.” He smiled. “I wish I had a proper name to give you.”

“Kurogiri is fine. It’s who you are.”

The pair continued to talk idly as they made their way to Izuku’s home. A few blocks away still, the boy reached over and took Kurogiri’s hand. Their fingers intertwined and Izuku’s heart fluttered. “I hate to say goodbye, but I can’t make my mom worry.”

Kurogiri raised their joined hands almost to his lips. “Then just say, until tomorrow.”

Izuku snickered at the corny line but he said, “Until tomorrow, Kurogiri.”

 

Shota’s students were surprisingly excited about the summer training camp. More than one of them referred to it as a break from him. They reminisced about the brutal three-hour hike to the campground, wading and swimming in the small river, sharing cramped cabins, making dinner in the crappy kitchen, and relaxing in the little manmade hot springs.

They loaded into the bus happily chatting with one another. None of them questioned the presence of four other teachers.

The trip there was uneventful, if a tad annoying. The music was not to Shota’s taste and was too loud, but he let it slide so as to not crush their morale. Snacks were spilled all over the floor, even though it was only a two-hour trip.

It was almost noon when they reached the drop-off point. “This is the only chance you’ll get to stretch your legs.”

There was, of course, some grumbling about how much of a tyrant he was. He let it go without comment. It was something he was doing a lot. He’d push them, they’d complain, and he’d just ignore it. It wasn’t worth fighting. He counted out sixteen students and then stepped off the bus. The other teachers quickly pulled the shades down on the windows as the driver closed the door.

“I hope you’re all prepared for your hike.”

“Again?” “This is bullshit!” “Let us back on the bus!” “Awe, come on!” “Don’t do this to us.” “Again!”

The door reopened.

“Okay.” He stepped aside.

His students hesitated sensing a trap. It was possible they thought expulsion was on the table, but many of them had been expelled and reinstated. One boy walked confidently back to the door.

“Training scenario one,” Shota started, as the boy watched the driver apply fake blood to his head and slump over the steering wheel, “your team has stumbled onto a prison bus, the bus is disabled, the driver is wounded, and none of the inmates are secured. How do you respond?”

“Uh…”

Most of the seats were filled with crude human stand-ins, but the four teachers had changed into orange jumpsuits.

“Fuck me,” one of the students said.

“Why? It wouldn’t improve your grade,” Shota replied.

Half his class had chosen the hike after that. They were to ‘contact the authorities’ when they arrived at camp and send ‘help’ to the eight that chose to stay and play out the scenario. It was meant to be investigation/interrogation training, but the teachers were naturally prepared for a fight.

Shota sighed. Four of them had gotten frustrated or impatient and purposely provoked a fight. The investigation had fallen apart after that and there was as much in-fighting and bickering as there was battling the teachers.

It was a relatively easy fight, the only teacher using their quirk was Ectoplasm. Still, one student was restrained, and three were ‘killed’ in the scuffle. The smears and splatters of fake blood painted a vivid picture for them.

“No talking for you three. Ito, you’re on thin ice, too. I want a report on what went wrong by morning.”

The bus started up and headed to the campsite. None of the students spoke on the way.

 

Izuku gritted his teeth. His mouth tasted like copper, but it was a victory. He had finally provoked Bakugo into really hitting him. The other boy had been holding back for months; he was frustrated. He spit the red-tinged saliva out and grinned.

Bakugo dropped his stance. “I’m sorry. I should control my temper better.”

Growling, Izuku replied, “Don’t wuss out on me now, Kacchan. It was just getting good.”

“I think we should take a break.” He took a step back.

“I think you should put your hands back up.” He advanced, taking a couple of fast swipes at Bakugo, hoping to get him riled up.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Bakugo stepped back.

“You think that hurt?” Izuku snorted. “I’m not that weak.”

“I didn’t say you were.” He put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Let’s just calm down and…”

“Fine. If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’ve got other people to spar with.” He turned and headed toward his shoes. Gotta let him twist. “I get it, I’m just a pathetic extra.” Gotta let him twist. “Never going to amount to anything; so why put in the effort.” One more dig should do. “I just. I thought I could count on you for support.”

Izuku was jerked around by his shoulder. Bakugo growled. “Deku.” He hauled back – slow and obvious even to a rookie – and punched him. He accepted the blow.

A sly grin parted Izuku’s lips. “I’m not made of glass Kacchan.” He delivered a powerful blow to Bakugo’s solar plexus.

Bakugo coughed up a bit of stomach acid. He growled again. “Deku, I’m not –”

Izuku didn’t give him a chance to back down. He tackled Bakugo, pinning him to the ground. Grabbing one wrist, he shifted into an arm bar. “Tap.”

“Screw you! I’m not playing,” Bakugo shouted. He tried to muscle out of the lock by pulling Izuku back onto his chest, but while the pair of them mostly practiced strikes, Izuku’s bread and butter was his ground game.

He stretched out, pulling Bakugo’s arm tight. The other boy winced at the overextension. “Tap, Kacchan.”

“You think I’m going to lose to you?”

“Yeah, ‘coz I have more training in this.”

Bakugo braced his free arm against the ground and utilized his quirk to roll Izuku’s legs up. This let him jerk free. “I’m still better than you!” He did not go for a hold or submission of his own. Instead, he rained punches down on Izuku, schoolyard style.

He couldn’t contain his glee. “Not if you keep holding back on me,” Izuku laughed. He grabbed the other boy's hips and threw him to the side.

Both boys kipped up. As they squared off for round two, Mitsuki burst into the yard. “Katsuki! What the hell was that?”

Izuku started and Bakugo looked guilty. “Sorry, it was my fault! I uh, asked him to show me some applications of his quirk.”

“Alright, you two just be careful, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!” they shouted in unison. The pair went back to sparing almost as if nothing happened. The only difference was that Bakugo put more force behind each strike. Each hard strike was met with equal force. The realization that Izuku wouldn’t break seemed to set Bakugo’s heart at ease. They could stand shoulder to shoulder. They could become heroes together.

 

“I spoke to Sensei about your muteness,” Kurogiri said as they put away the mats after training. “He told me that quirk transplanting is a lot like a heart transplant. You need to be compatible – it helps in that regard that you were quirkless –, you could still reject it, and you may develop new preferences or personality traits from the donor.”

“So I just have to live with it, and my newfound love of takoyaki,” Izuku replied.

“It… it may also affect other preferences,” Kurogiri said quietly like he was confessing some horrible deed.

“Like music or recreational activities,” he said, remembering seeing something about it in a documentary or human-interest news story. He was intentionally dodging Kurogiri’s implications.

“Izuku-kun,” the man chided. “I mean –”

“I know what you mean, Kurogiri,” Izuku interrupted him, hiding his blushing face in his hands. “My particular tastes may have changed but it’s not like I haven’t… don’t make me say it. Look, my room is covered floor to ceiling in All Might merch, please just drop it okay?”

Kurogiri grinned at him. “I see. Perhaps I could get you a body pillow then? Would you prefer a more lithe hero? Hawks? Or is Edgeshot more to your liking?”

“No! Oh my god, No! Absolutely no,” he shouted but lowered his voice for the last word, “body pillow.”

“Then what would you like?” Kurogiri asked.

Before he could answer, Tomura spoke up, “Get a room, perverts.”

“Hush you,” Kurogiri chided him. However, he did change the subject. “If you are up to it, Izuku-kun, I would like to set up another fight for you.”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” he replied. “I told you I wasn’t upset.”

“That is not the same as being ready to try it again,” Kurogiri said, opening a portal.

He walked through, saying, “Okay, but I am ready.”

This bar was a narrow hallway, lit by a row of large paper lanterns above the patrons. There was one table, at which four men sat playing mahjong. Next to the bathroom in the back was a reinforced door with a large, broad-shouldered man standing in front of it. He greeted Kurogiri respectfully and allowed them entrance.

The back room was larger than the main room and was ringed with two rows of chairs. A large circle was painted on the floor. Two men were trading blows in the middle. The dozen or so patrons were talking amongst themselves more than watching.

“Kurogiri-sama! Good to see you!” a plump man greeted him jovially.

“And you as well, Daichi-san.”

“Oh, and it looks like you brought a fighter, too.”

“He is new,” Kurogiri explained, handing the man a few bills.

“So you want us to be gentle with him?”

“I want you to be educational.”

“I gotcha,” he said nodding. “Shark, you’re up next, we got a guppy for ya.”

When the current bout ended, Izuku was joined in the circle by a blue-haired man with a thick shark’s tail. His back and the back of his arms appeared to be rough like sharkskin. He also had gills and triangular serrated teeth.

Both fighters assumed their stance. Shark opened with a left jab that he deflected. He grabbed Shark’s wrist and shoulder while taking a step behind him to sweep his leg. Shark stepped back with his right foot and brought his left leg up in a textbook counter. Izuku was slammed to the concrete by his hip toss. Shark kept hold of him rolling neatly into an arm bar.

“Tap or I break it.”

“Then break it,” Izuku said, rolling his body over and bridging his back to break the hold. He twisted onto all fours heedless of the pressure on his joints as he jerked his arm free. He moved to roll Shark into a pin, but the more experienced combatant swept his leg up and flipped Izuku over the top of him.

Shark followed the motion and rolled on top of Izuku’s chest. He tried to throw him off with another bridge, but Shark moved down his body to lock his leg. Izuku kicked with his other leg. Shark leaned back applying pressure. Growling he tried to wrench himself free. Shark held tight but didn’t apply any more pressure. Izuku twisted his body but couldn’t break the hold.

A sudden burst of pain in his knee had him tapping out.

Shark rolled away from him. “He wouldn’t tap,” he told Kurogiri. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I saw. He's stubborn. You did well. Now help me relocate his knee.”

Izuku was rolled onto his back, and Shark’s shoulder was used to hold his leg at a ninety-degree angle. Kurogiri straightened his knee while pushing the kneecap back into place. His breathing settled quickly.

Kurogiri scooped him off the ground and asked, “Daichi-san, may we leave from here?”

“Of course, of course. Come back soon,” the plump man said with a smile.

As they reentered Kuroi ba, Tomura called out, “That was fast.”

“We got in the second match,” Kurogiri explained. When he moved to set Izuku down the boy latched on to his neck. “Is something the matter?”

Izuku shook his head. He was banged up but the only real injury was his knee. Still, he didn’t want to let go of Kurogiri.

“I cannot cook with you in my arms,” he said. “As much as I enjoy holding you, you need to eat.”

Izuku shifted until he could see Tomura. Gripping Kurogiri securely with one arm, he pointed at Tomura and made a phone gesture with the other.

“He wants me to order food, I think,” Tomura said. Izuku nodded. Tomura grabbed the menu with two fingers and held it up for him. “Point at what you want.”

He pointed to the samosas, prawn kurma, and chutney tray. Then he tapped the Nan bread repeatedly.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. I won’t forget the stupid bread,” Tomura said as he stepped away to use the bar phone. “You want your usual, Kurogiri?”

“Please. And the mint and yogurt dip.”

Izuku stayed in Kurogiri’s lap until the food arrived. He ate until he could speak again and said, “Jujitsu is so close contact.”

“It makes you uncomfortable,” Kurogiri concluded. “We could change –”

“I need to learn this,” he cut him off. “It was just weird being that intimate with someone else.” Izuku blushed furiously when he realized what he’d said. He sputtered and squawked, tripping over his words to qualify the statement.

Kurogiri laughed. “If it makes you feel better I enjoyed watching you.”

It did in that it soothed his anxiety over Kurogiri’s reaction to him finding their training to be an act of intimacy, but it stoked the fires of his embarrassment even further.

Tomura grumbled, “Perverts,” under his breath and stole the rest of Izuku’s samosas.

 

Izuku was late returning home after training that evening; he was late most nights to be honest. He felt warm and light as he unlocked the front door to his apartment. The memory of Kurogiri’s touch, holding him like he weighed nothing, was still very fresh in his mind. Kurogiri’s firm but ethereal presence had soothed him emotionally just as his healing quirk had erased the physical pain.

He slipped his shoes off and listened for the sounds of his mother. Hearing shifting around in the kitchen he called, “I know I’m late. I took a jog by the beach; it was just such a nice –”

He cut off as he entered the living room to see Bakugo in the kitchen making tea and Mitsuki on the couch comforting his mother. Bakugo’s father was in the armchair with a grim look on his face.

“What happened?”

“Inko was mugged,” Masaru informed him in a quiet tone.

“They only got two thousand yen,” Mitsuki said.

“I was going to make hotpot, but I needed noodles and carrots,” Inko said miserably. “You’ve been working so hard, I just wanted to treat you.” 

Izuku moved to the other side of his mother to give her a hug but stopped when he saw the bandage on her arm. “You were hurt!”

“It’s just a scratch, but the doctor said I should have someone keep an eye on me for the night just in case his spines were poisonous,” Inko explained. “The bandage is bigger than it needs to be.”

The look that crossed Izuku’s face must have been truly murderous because Mitsuki reached around his mother and pulled him down onto the couch. “That’s not what she needs right now.”

He nodded. His emotions stormed inside of him, but he swallowed them down. She was right. Izuku wrapped his arms around his mother. “I don’t need to be treated. Everything you cook is amazing.”

Inko laughed. “Oh, Izuku, thank you.”

Mitsuki’s stomach grumbled. She muttered an apology.

“Have any of you eaten?” he asked. Bakugo’s parents shook their heads. “If you want, Kacchan and I can start the hotpot.”

“Tsk. You don’t even have the electric burner out,” Bakugo chided.

“I’ll grab the vegetables while the market is still open,” Masaru offered.

Mitsuki stayed on the couch with Inko while the boys got everything ready, and gradually the world seemed to right itself.

Notes:

Name: Yukito Uda 'Void Step'
Kanji: 行渡 宇多
行 go, travel, conduct, line, row, 渡 cross, pass over
宇 space, universe, 多 many, numerous, much
Quirk: ???
Description: Bleached blond punk with blue and orange accessories
Affiliation: ???
Birthday: 11/28
Height: 5'10"
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Beer, cash, fighting.

Name: Konsuke Fukaguchi 'Shark'
Kanji: 紺助 鱶口
紺 navy blue, dark blue, 助 aid, help, assist
鱶 large sharks, 口mouth, opening, entrance
Quirk: Shark - a mutation that gives him attributes of a shark, including gills, a sensitive nose, lateral lines, and triangular serrated teeth
Description: Blue-haired, well-muscled shark boy who's diligent and hardworking
Affiliation: Daichi's bar (and fight club)
Birthday: 10/8
Height: 5'7"
Blood Type: B
Likes/dislikes: Meat, Spinich, Swimming.

Chapter 5: A Productive Summer

Izuku missed a warp gate opening near his ankle and was pulled off his feet when he attempted a front kick. He hit the mat with a solid thud.

“Mind your surroundings,” Kurogiri chided. “What has you so distracted?”

Kipping up, Izuku growled. No longer able to contain the squall that was his anger, he snarled, “It was a public street! In broad daylight! And no one did anything. His quirk wasn’t even any more threatening than a knife.” With a horse yell, he kicked the pad that Kurogiri was still holding up.

“Context,” Tomura asked from the bar, sipping a soda.

“My mom was mugged.”

“Ah,” Kurogiri said, his worried expression melting into what Izuku interpreted as a warm smile. “And you would like something done about it.”

“Well, who wouldn’t.”

“No need to be shy, Izuku-kun,” Kurogiri all but purred. “You need only ask.”

The true weight of his words took a moment to sink in. In that time, Kurogiri opened a small portal. Izuku gave an ‘eep’ as he was sent crashing to the mats again.

“Mind your surroundings,” Kurogiri and Tomura said in unison; Tomura somewhat mockingly.

“Would you help me find the guy?” he asked.

“But of course,” Kurogiri replied. “I would kill him for you if you were comfortable with such things.”

Izuku chuckled then kipped to his feet once more. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that.”

“We can play it by ear. Let me find the man and we will see how you feel in the moment. If nothing else we can turn him over to the police,” Kurogiri offered.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, feeling much better about the whole thing.

              

More complaining; after breakfast, the students were split up for their quirk strengthening. It was all standard stuff and the other teachers handled it while Shota observed and Snipe wrangled the students that hadn’t passed the exam.

“I’m so tired.”

“This is so unfair.”

“I’m not cooking my own lunch.”

“I want to go home.”

Shota ignored it. As long as they kept training, he said nothing. He read the three essays he had gotten at lunch. He held the other five back from afternoon training to complete theirs.

“Why? It’s not like it’ll improve my grade,” one of them snarled.

“But it may keep you at Yuuei,” he said harshly. Reminding them of that was the kindest thing he could do in the moment.

“Go ahead and expel me,” Watanabe snapped. “My father is an alumnus. He donates five hundred million yen to this school every year.”

Shota sneered. “Pack your bag. If you think daddy can save you.”

 

Jujitsu practice was difficult. Izuku spent countless hours with Kurogiri sitting on his stomach, or with his legs wrapped around Kurogiri’s waist, while he explained and demonstrated holds and counters. The boy was always a blushing mess. It seemed to amuse Kurogiri to no end.

“Is something the matter?” he purred.

“N-no. I can keep going.” Izuku’s voice betrayed his nerves though, coming out an octave higher than usual.

Kurogiri hummed. “Do try not to get distracted then. Always mind your surroundings.” He shifted his body off Izuku in a slow and lingering maneuver. After pulling Izuku to his feet, he moved behind him and cradled his body against him. Kurogiri ran his hands up Izuku’s arms and rubbed his shoulders briefly. Then, he put Izuku in a headlock. “How do you get out of this?”

Izuku immediately turned his head toward Kurogiri and tucked his chin while raising his shoulders. This created a space for him to grab Kurogiri’s arm at the elbow. He bent his knees while wrapping his foot behind Kurogiri’s. Finally, he turned out of the hold and tossed Kurogiri.

When he landed on the mats, the air was knocked out of him, but as soon as he could speak, he laughed. “Very good! Now you try.” He stood and waited for the boy to come up behind him.

“You’re a lot taller than me,’ Izuku pointed out.

“So are most pro heroes,” he countered.

Izuku furrowed his brow. He almost asked what had to do with anything, but his brain caught up with him in time. They were criminals, after all. Kurogiri had made no effort to hide that; had stated it plainly from the beginning in fact. Izuku had just forgotten. He had pushed the very idea out of his mind. He was so comfortable with them. He felt calm sitting near Tomura, valued whenever Sensei spoke to him, and … so many complicated things around Kurogiri. Complicated, but all of them were positive. Valued? Yes. Appreciated? Definitely. Desired? Beyond all odds, yes. Loved? Maybe…

He reached up hesitantly and tried to secure his arm around Kurogiri’s neck. The angle was strange. Izuku’s instinct was to kick his knee out and bring him to the ground, but he didn’t think that that was what was being asked of him. “You’re too tall,” he complained.

“Then do something about it,” Kurogiri suggested.

Izuku was rocked for a moment. His instinct had been right. Swiftly, and more brutally than he intended, Izuku kicked the back of Kurogiri’s knee. When he went down Izuku put him in a headlock.

“Ugh. Good, good. Now grab my hair, to keep control of me.”

Izuku sputtered and stuttered but did as he was told. “L-like this?”

Kurogiri’s hair was soft and silky and tapered off into the same not-wet-but-not-dry mist that surrounded the rest of his body.

“Hmm, just like…” Kurogiri purred, and then he corrected himself, “No. You have to grab harder. Don’t be afraid of hurting me. Tangle your fingers in there and yank back to keep my chin up and keep me from turning my head. It will make it difficult for me to break the hold.”

Izuku adjusted his grip, trying different things until Kurogiri hissed in pain. “Like that?” he asked nervously.

“Exactly. Good boy.” He chuckled as Izuku pressed against his back, was not unaffected by the praise. The boy was aroused by the contact and trembling with nerves. “Now, I think some practice with the bo staff is in order.” He tapped Izuku’s elbow twice.

Izuku let go of him and retreated to the wall the staves were leaning against. There were more than two because he was expected to pick the one he wanted to use; a few inches taller than the user’s height. Izuku was five foot five so the staff he needed was about five-seven, although they were going to work him up to a six-foot staff eventually. He took his time selecting his oak staff and turned to face Kurogiri.

“Unlike what I’ve shown you in the past, this is an advanced stance. It will be difficult to learn but I have faith in you. Your body becomes a fulcrum; each movement thrusts the staff at your opponent. You must be aware of the staff’s position at all times. At the same time, your movements must be fluid and casual.”

He demonstrated for Izuku as the boy picked up a surprising amount from just observation. He held it behind his waist, at times resting in the crooks of his elbows. The staff twirled around his shoulders in a dazzling display. He grabbed the staff in a narrow grip and demonstrated a forward thrust. “It also turns into an overhead strike easily, and the reverse into an uppercut.”

“Okay,” Izuku replied with a nod. he imitated the stance. It was awkward to hold the staff behind him. “This can’t be an effective technique.”

“Not on its own,” Kurogiri agreed. “It is a bit flashy, but if you can get it down it plays well with other techniques. Now, empty your mind. Be formless, shapeless, like water.”

“Jeet Kune Do?”

Kurogiri lightly rapt his knuckles against Izuku’s head. “Empty your mind.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s an amalgamation of Eastern and western techniques, like Krav Maga. Right?”

“Yes, both focus on hitting vital areas and efficiency. Use what works.”

“This is why so much training is building muscle and flexibility.”

“Followed by a catalogue of simple, versatile moves that you can employ on reflex,” Kurogiri agreed. He adjusted Izuku’s stance with lingering touches again. “Now, practice these forms until your arms burn.”

Izuku ran through his normal spins – basic, behind, figure-eight, front, shoulder, neck roll – and added the new cross-shoulder and reverse-shoulder spins. He worked a routine out moving from one spin to another, before peppering in strikes. Kurogiri made gentle corrections and gave praise freely until sweat began to drip down Izuku’s face.

He handed the boy a towel and reclaimed his own staff. “Up for a little sparing?”

“Always.”

Kurogiri was teaching him to dodge more than he blocked; to tire his opponent out. As a result, their sparing lacked the satisfying clack of wood hitting wood. More commonly, the thud of Izuku hitting the mat could be heard mingling with the amelodic rhythm of their grunts and shouts.

Having learned that Izuku would reach any bar set for him with only the barest encouragement, Kurogiri pushed him as far as his quirk allowed; seven solid hours of workouts and training. Tomura would join them for a few hours every night; quizzing him while they worked out or sparred. He was taken to fight clubs and flyby night gyms three days a week. Any time Kurogiri took a break Izuku was lifting weights or stretching. They were constantly working him toward any number of goals; learning a strike or form, improving his reflexes, and getting into Yuuei. Not a moment was wasted. Despite his quirk and its rapid recovery, Izuku was often left exhausted.

Every morning he was offered a massage and a hot shower before returning home. Every day he took a quick shower, commented on how fast his body healed, and left. It took him longer to realize than he would have liked that what he was feeling was quirk exhaustion. He was sore all over. The fact that it was uniform and consistent was what tipped him off. The low-level ache and fatigue were building day after day. He needed a break.

A post-workout massage could improve blood circulation; helping to deliver oxygen and nutrients to muscles, and loosen and lengthen muscles and tendons. As well as helping to repair damaged tissue, reduce inflammation, and release clots or blockages. Some research suggested that post-workout massages could speed up recovery time by up to twice as fast as rest alone. Maybe it was what he needed to keep up the demanding pace they expected.

And surely, Kurogiri wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. For all his teasing and flirting, it would just be a massage. So when Kurogiri asked, “Would you like a quick rub down or at least a hot shower before you go?” Izuku said yes.

Well, he more groaned it from where he lay panting on the mats they laid out on the garage floor.

Kurogiri chuckled; it was a dark and earthy sound that made parts of Izuku’s brain buffer. He rolled the boy onto his stomach, somehow removing his shirt at the same time, before straddling his hips. His weight was grounding and comforting. Izuku moved to pillow his head on his arms, but Kurogiri guided them out to the sides.

Beginning with his shoulders, Kurogiri set about rubbing and caressing his body to relax the muscles, release tension, and improve blood flow. He used a scent-free lotion to protect from friction. His touch was tender and almost teasing. The feeling of Kurogiri’s fingers, firm but fading into mist, was peculiar but nice. It almost tickled.

It was a new experience for Izuku to be touched. The only good, comforting touch in his life was his mother. Classmates and teachers tended to avoid contact with him as if his quirklessness was contagious. Unless they were bullying him. Kacchan would punch, grab, or shove him all the time. He would get knocked into in the halls or jostled on the street, but this was so, so very different.

This was nice. It felt good. Desire pooled hotly in Izuku’s gut. The boy stiffened under Kurogiri’s hands. He tried to lay still, to push away lust and anxiety both.

With a curious little hum, Kurogiri seemed to start over, this time explaining what he was doing, “The best post-workout massage is Swedish, or Relaxation, Massage. You don’t want to press too hard, nor do a deep tissue massage as that can increase inflammation. The first step is Effleurage; stroking the body –always toward the heart– with various degrees of intensity to relax the muscles and soft tissues. It’s, generally, what you’d see in movies.”

His hands glided over Izuku’s shoulders and up his arms, Kurogiri took his time and appreciated the developing muscles. Slow, methodical strokes worked the tension out of every inch of Izuku’s back. Soon Izuku was arching into the sensual touch. Kurogiri moved down his legs, hands sliding over his butt and thighs as he went.

When he finished with the feet he moved back to the shoulders. “Petrissage kneading involves a bit more pressure; you knead, roll, and gently squeeze different parts of the body in a circular motion.”

In contrast to the smooth sensual strokes of the previous step, this caress felt more sexually charged. Izuku hadn’t thought you could grope arms, shoulders, or the middle of the back until now. He let out a piteous whimper, and Kurogiri froze.

“Did that hurt?”

“No,” he replied softly. He didn’t want to answer but knew not to brush the man’s concern aside. A deep blush crept up Izuku’s neck to the tips of his ears. “The opposite.”

“Oh? Oh,” Kurogiri said as he leaned down. “You are so adorable when you blush. But I promise I won’t do anything; even if you beg.”

Izuku’s mouth went dry and he couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to. While the next few minutes were fuzzy for him, Izuku knew that Kurogiri didn’t linger over any intimate part of him. He took his time with his calves, kneading them thoroughly. Then he moved on to the next part, returning to the shoulders.

“Friction,” Kurogiri began as he returned to Izuku’s shoulders again, “is typically done using the ball of the thumb or a pointed object. It is a deep pressure massage done in small circular, or cross-fiber movements to penetrate deep tissues and rub it back and forth over the underlying muscle. You use your hands, forearms, and even elbows to rub and compress the body to warm the tissues. It’s especially effective at remodeling scar tissue and softening adhesions.”

Despite explaining the deep tissue technique, Kurogiri had returned to the smooth and sensual strokes that he had begun with.

“Vibration,” he continued, “often takes the form of a fine trembling movement applied using the palm or the fingertips of either or both hands. It can improve nerve function, and muscle relaxation and is an efficient way to stimulate deeper tissues and organs.”

Once he finished this second pass he returned to the shoulders again.

“Tapotement is rhythmically tapping on the body. It helps increase blood flow to the tissues. It’s a French term meaning to tap or drum. In short applications it is invigorating, and as such is often used at the end of a massage,” Kurogiri continued his explanation as he went, his velvety voice washing over Izuku and lulling him back into a relaxed state.

Kurogiri went through each of the five methods used for tapotement. Beating was using a closed fist lightly hitting an area. Slapping used the fingers to gently slap while tapping was just the fingertips. Cupping used a cupped hand to gently tap an area. Hacking was the one Izuku was familiar with, although he didn’t know its name, using of the edge of the hand on the pinky-finger side to give light rapid strikes. It was done to ‘wake up’ the nervous system and release lymphatic buildup in the muscle.

“Feeling any better?”

“Yeah. thank you.”

“I assure you, it was my pleasure.”

 

After a dinner of fried rice, steamed vegetables, and grilled fish, the students were sent to the baths. The times were staggered by class, so his remaining students were all happily soaking when he strolled into the male side to check on them.

“For fuck’s sake! Can you people go ten minutes without disappointing me?”

All fifteen students were in the water, some even making out. The girls shrieked and scrambled to cover themselves.

“Can it!” he snapped, his back already turned. “You have five minutes to be in your cabins. And you’ve all lost bathhouse privileges. From now on, your afternoon training will be endurance in the creek, that way you’ll at least be a little clean.”

 

Kurogiri watched as Izuku and Tomura sat at the bar playing a co-op game on one of the consuls. It had taken quite a lot to find the end of Izuku’s endurance, but they had finally reached it. He had earned a full day’s rest and some gaming would help endear him to Tomura. He ghosted about the bar keeping them supplied with drinks and snacks while he cleaned. It was more to have something to do, in the last month he was always on the move.

But he was confident in their progress. Izuku would make an excellent hero.

A shame they couldn’t be heroes together…

Kurogiri warped out of the room. He was startled for a moment when he appeared on a street in Tasomiya Ward. He felt nauseous and pain lanced through his head. He shouldn’t have come here. Why did he keep coming here? He hadn’t meant to come to this place. Gripping his head, Kurogiri warped again, this time arriving in the bathroom he had originally been aiming for.

He threw up in the sink and rinsed his mouth. He splashed cold water on his face. As he reached for something for his headache, his hand brushed the medication the doctor had given him when he’d first started having headaches and ‘hallucinations’ after waking up in Sensei’s care.

As he always did when he noticed the bottle, Kurogiri flushed two of the capsules down the toilet. The doctor had told him to take them, not Sensei, so he wasn’t disobeying Sensei. He wasn’t.

Oddly, it always seemed to make his headache go away.

 

Shota stood next to the bus as his students boarded. His arms were crossed and it was all he could do to keep from tapping his foot impatiently. Since the bathhouse incident, his students refused to cook their meals. While he didn’t stop other students from helping them out, he did call them on it every time.

“You wouldn’t need charity if you’d just put in the work.”

Honestly, if they had remained a united front he would have let it go without punishment, but one by one, they snuck behind their classmate’s backs and made a meal in the prep area for only one or two people. No one was punished for working together, but each student who broke was made to stand on top of a ten-foot pole for half an hour.

He was emotionally drained and glad that this disaster training camp was over. Still… a lingering doubt nagged at the back of his mind. Maybe it was just how close it was to the end of August.

Izuku rolled his shoulders and hopped. He shook himself to loosen up and stretched. He and Bakugo squared up and he decided to toy with him. Keeping his guard up Izuku danced around, bobbing and weaving but not throwing a punch. He was going to let the bombastic blond tire himself out.

“God damn it, Deku! Fight me.”

“I am,” he replied. He shuffled back as Bakugo lunged forward. “Keep up, Kacchan!” He laughed as he ducked, dodged, and weaved around Bakugo’s wild strikes. “Okay, okay,” he said as he noticed the other boy starting to get winded. “Let’s work on your footing.”

“I don’t need –”

“Which one of us has real training from an actual trainer and not a middle school gym teacher?” he cut in.

Bakugo’s mouth shut with an audible click.

“Always stay on your toes so you can move quickly around. Feet shoulder-width apart, for balance. Relax your body and keep your hands up. Now follow along.” He bounced side to side, then forward and backward. “Good.” Izuku ran him through a few drills that they could do without any equipment: lateral shuffle, forward-backward shuttle run, single-leg hops, and jump squats. Then the air went on a run around the block.

“You do this all the time?”

“This? No, most of my runs are three miles. It only takes twenty minutes.”

“Deku, it used to take you fifteen to do one!”

“A good trainer works wonders, I guess.”

“No shit.”

 

As was their annual tradition, Shota, Hizashi, and Nemuri arrived at the graveyard an hour before sunset. They would be the last people to leave. Hizashi was always quiet; it was the one place where even he was somber. Nemuri carried the bucket that they’d borrowed every year, saying she needed something to do with her hands. Shota, normally so private and stoic, almost seemed to come alive during these visits. He told Oboro about the events of the last year as they carefully washed the tombstone together, lit incense, and placed Chrysanthemums and sushi for their departed friend.

“I don’t think I’m cut out to teach,” he confessed. “But I can’t watch these kids get themselves killed because they don’t understand how serious this is; how dangerous it can be. I still miss you, and … it affects my judgment. So, that’s just about everything. Nem’s seeing someone, but he’s an idiot so it won’t last.”

“Hey!” she bumped his shoulder with hers.

“You can do better,” he said flatly. “I think we’ve burdened Oboro enough. Let’s get dinner.”

Chapter 6: Having Nice Things

September brought early morning dew that clung to the grass as Izuku’s sweat clung to his shoulders. The light chill it caused him as he rounded the corner to his apartment was enough to remind him to take a spare tee with him to training, but not enough to want a coat or sweatshirt. He jogged up to the stairs but took them at a more sedate pace so as to not disturb the neighbors. His keys jingled as he let himself in.

Quietly he toed off his shoes and padded into the bathroom for a quick shower. He could hear a low murmur of the TV from the living room, and figured his mother was up early to make breakfast. Izuku figured he could he a quick nap in before it was done, but his mother called to him after he scampered into his room.

“Izuku, are you awake? We have a visitor!”

He called back, “Yeah, just a sec!” He grabbed a shirt and pants blindly from his dresser. The shirt was black with ‘Fear not citizens, hope has arrived. Because I am here!’ emblazoned in yellow over a watermark image of All Might standing on a bus carrying civilians. He tucked socks in his pocket and skidded out into the living room.

“This is Yagi-san,” his mother introduced him. Izuku nearly choked. Yagi coughed up blood and quickly dabbed it with a handkerchief. Inko didn’t seem to notice. “He works for All Might.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and walked over to them. He shook hands with the tall, gaunt man. “Pleased to meet you,” he said warmly, “Yagi-san.”

“I had meant to contact you sooner,” he said staring meaningfully into the boy’s eyes.

“It’s fine.” He smiled brightly at him. “You’re probably super busy working for the number one hero, after all.”

“Your mother said you’ve been training hard.”

“I’ve got a lot of ground to make up,” Izuku confirmed. “But I’ve got so many great people in my corner I know I can do it!”

“That’s excellent.”

“I know I promised to make you breakfast, but Yagi-san would like to take you out to discuss a few things. It seems All Might is worried about you,” his mother said smiling fondly at him.

“Well, I’ll miss making breakfast with you, but I’m more than happy to put All Might’s mind at ease,” he responded grabbing his jacket and tablet.

They walked amiably beside each other. Izuku was able to match his pace comfortably despite their height difference. Once they were a block away, Yagi said, “That’s uh, an interesting shirt.” His voice was muffled by the surprisingly thick scarf he had on for so early in the season.

“It’s officially licensed,” he said proudly. “A local radio station got permission and printed up about a thousand of them for a charity event. I way overpaid, but it also came with a limited edition Bronze Age Winter Costume Nendoroid. Ah, sorry, I’m fanboying at you.”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s really not. I want to apologize for causing you so much worry. I shouldn’t have put you on a pillar like that. It’s my fault for holding you up to a higher standard; you are only human after all. I want you to know that while your words hurt, especially coming from my idol, I didn’t try to kill myself, I slipped. The door locked after you left. I banged on it until it started raining, then I looked for a place to take cover. Instead, I spotted the fire escape on the adjacent building. It wasn’t that far down between the two and there wasn’t a gap, so I just lowered myself down and dropped. It was super jarring but I didn’t think I broke anything. So, I sprinted to the ladder, and I guess I was careless because of the adrenalin and I fell. I worried a lot of people and I’m sorry.” Izuku bowed to him.

“Hey, hey, hey, now. There’s no need for that,” Yagi sputtered. “I wanted to apologize for what I said.”

“You have. ‘The only one that can answer that question is me. Can I work hard enough? Can I reach high enough? Can I hold hope in my heart and justice in my hands?’ I think I can. I’m going to try, at least.” He looked at the sky. “It made me realize that not having a quirk was never what was holding me back. After all, it turns out I had one all along. What was holding me back was bowing to the pressures of a society that valued quirks over conviction, over drive, over talent and aptitude. Valuing flashy powers over the training and skill it takes to use them. I think I’m strong enough, now, to take on that system.”

Yagi chuckled. “Throwing out my advice to shoot for a realistic dream? Good for you.”

Izuku smiled up at him. “Not really. I’m just changing what is realistic. I think the current system is too isolating. There’s the occasional team-up, but even staying on at an agency is seen as a failure, no matter what an individual’s actual stats are.”

“It’s not that bad really.”

“Half a dozen pro heroes couldn’t do anything to stop that sludge villain but you feel like it was solely your responsibility.”

“If I had hesitated any longer… Young Bakugo was. He would have been killed.” Yagi stared at the ground as they walked.

He sighed. “Exactly my point. Normally you wouldn’t even be in the area. We’re lucky you were; Kacchan and me both. But people can’t, shouldn’t rely on one person that much.”

“I just feel so weak and useless,” he said, shifting his gaze to his long bony hands.

“Because you can’t do everything yourself, but that’s exactly what’s expected of you.”

“I used to be able to…”

Izuku arched an eyebrow at him. “Even if that’s true, it makes you an exception. Look at the number two hero. He employs up to thirty sidekicks at a time. He trains them up and then they have to go start their own agencies. They can’t stay on and be seen as ‘real’ heroes. Meaning they’ll never break into the top hundred even if they have the metrics to place in the top twenty with only three or four years under their belt. And you can’t build a brand for yourself working at an agency named after your boss.”

“That’s true.”

“I’m aiming to change that,” the boy declared as he opened the door to a cafe. “I hope this place is alright. There’s not much around here.”

“It’s fine. I have to be careful what I eat anyway.”

“Oh, your stomach.”

“Yeah. It’s not a big deal, just no sweets, low fat, and small portions,” he said.

A server greeted them and led them to a booth. She handed them menus, got their drink orders, and asked if they needed a moment. She smiled and went to fetch their drinks when they agreed.

“Oh, Set D looks good. And I can probably manage all of it except the rice and miso,” Yagi said happily.

“Can I have them? I’ve been eating a lot more since my quirk activated,” Izuku told him, opening his tablet. “I wish I had enough to get Set G.”

“It’s my treat so go ahead.”

“I should at least –”

“No. I really mean it. You should get a dessert too,” Yagi insisted.

“I couldn’t,” he protested. “You can’t, so it would be rude.”

“I enjoy treating others, and I don’t get to do it that often,” he explained. “Not many people know about my injury.”

“Well, I guess I could let you then,” Izuku relented with a soft smile. That settled, they put their menus at the edge of the table, and he began sketching Yagi. The server came back with their drinks and took their order.

After she left, Yagi began a serious conversation, “About, um, at the hospital…”

“You said you were quirkless,” he filled the silence without looking up from his drawing. “Well, you implied it.”

“Yes. I… as hard as it is to believe I was gifted this quirk by another. Honestly, I’m looking for a successor. I’m not getting any younger and I can’t utilize it to its full potential since my injury.”

“A quirk that can be passed on to another,” he muttered.  It explained so much. He opened a note file and flipped the keyboard out. “I hope you find someone worthy.”

“There are a couple of candidates that have been recommended to me,” Yagi admitted. “I just don’t know if it’s the right choice.”

“Well, what would they be getting? What is the quirk?” Izuku asked.

“It enhances your existing abilities, both physically and your quirk.” He peered at the notes the boy jotted down. They were minimalistic, unlike the extensive ones from his old notebook. Passable. Enhancement. Transformation type?

“So, from the recipient’s standpoint it’s best if they either have no quirk or a weak quirk that would benefit from strengthening,” he began to mutter.

“That’s been the way of it so far,” Yagi replied. “There is, ah, was –” He stopped and shook his head.

The boy glanced up from his notes.

Yagi clutched his side subconsciously. “To be honest, I’m just concerned with the successor’s personality and values.”

Izuku looked at him properly. “Good. I was assuming anyone on your shortlist has passed the values criteria. I mean it’s not that hard to find good, dedicated people looking to become heroes, right?” At Yagi’s nod, he moved on. “So now you need to know if their quirk could even benefit from enhancing. Take Endeavor, for example, if his fire was any hotter, it would burn his own flesh. His blast could easily become uncontrollable and he’d be a danger to the city.”

“So, you don’t think it’s a good idea to give it to someone who’s already powerful for their own safety?”

“If they’re already powerful then they don’t need it. They can already shoulder the responsibilities of a hero.”

Yagi struggled to put his feelings into words. “I’m trying to find the next Symbol of Peace, they have to accept more than the typical burden.”

“I don’t think that’s a successor you get to choose. Even if you gave Endeavor your quirk and publicly endorsed him as the next Symbol of Peace, do you really think people would accept that? And if you choose someone more like yourself you doom them to a life in your shadow. Of always being called a cheap knockoff and being told they wouldn’t have made it on their own.”

“And if I don’t publicly hand them the title, who knows if it will even be passed on at all.”

“Maybe it doesn’t need to be? If it dies out it’s fine, and if it’s needed again someone will step up and claim it; like you did.”

Yagi’s eyes snapped to Izuku’s face. His expression shifted rapidly from confusion to anger to disbelief and finally settled on relief. “I’ve been acting like carrying on my legacy is the important thing. But I’m just a hero; one in a long line.”

The boy smiled. “A shared burden is much easier to carry.” Yagi smiled back and Izuku whipped his phone out and snapped a picture. At Yagi’s surprise, he explained, “Sorry, it’s a habit now. I was kind of depressed before and my trainer said that it really helps him; to take pictures of things that make him happy. Even if it’s a duck in a puddle.” He realized he had used the phone Kurogiri had got him and pulled up the duck picture to show him.

“If that’s working for you then I don’t mind,” he replied, smiling warmly. Their food arrived shortly and they made light conversation while eating. When it came time to get dessert Yagi told him, “Go nuts.” Izuku ordered a mixed fruit crepe with custard and sugar-free whipped cream to go. Yagi paid and they left the café.

“So, um, I was thinking I’ve never really trained anyone before. Nighteye’s style was so different from mine, I really didn’t do him any good when I took him on. He was more of an assistant than a sidekick. Do you have any tips from your trainer I could use?”

Izuku thought carefully as he chewed a bite. Yagi pulled his own phone and took a picture. The boy laughed and wiped whipped cream from his cheek. He said, “Well, he’s really honest. But it’s not brutal you know? He says things as they are, but he accepts people's limits, and he helps them go beyond them. He reiterates to me that I have value, not my quirk, me. It’s been really good for myself worth issues and general anxiety.”

“That’s good. Do most of his students have problems like that?”

“Honestly, yeah. One of the other students is from a broken home and their quirk is always on, so they’re both touch-starved and touch adverse. And it’s not just them.  Kacchan seems like he has all the confidence in the world, but since he was four all he’s ever heard is ‘Your quirk is amazing.’ He pushes people away and is actually really insecure about living up to that potential,” he admitted. Izuku saw the color drain from Yagi’s face.  His mind whirled as he figured out what was wrong. “Oh, if you have the time, you could do some training with me as practice!”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said thoughtfully. “How bad could I screw it up if you already have such a good trainer?”

“Exactly!” Izuku grinned and took another bite of his crepe. They had wandered into the local park. The trees were just starting to turn. They ambled along the wide clear walking trail while hashing out a rough schedule. They would meet once a week on either Monday in the evening or Saturday bright and early, barring emergencies.

“Okay, just give me a week or so to come up with a good training regiment and we’re all set!” Yagi said, genuine enthusiasm lacing his voice. He paid for the uninhibited intake of autumn air with a short, thankfully bloodless, coughing fit.

The pair exchanged contact information and if Yagi noticed the different phone charm or darker color, he didn’t say anything. Instead of parting ways at the park, he insisted on walking the boy home.

 

“This is your last chance,” Shota told them as his students stepped off the bus. “Fail the Provisional Hero Licensing Exam and you’re done. Good luck.” Emotionally, he had already written them off. Teamwork was a big part of being a hero and they were failing that at every turn. They refused to take things seriously.

“Eraser!” Miss Joke yelled as she approached.

Shota’s dull expression became a mask of disgust. 

“Maybe you’d feel better if you got laid?” Ito suggested.

“Just pass your exam, kids.” He shook his head. At least Nezu had agreed to wash out the class if they failed, although some of them were being transferred to other departments.

 

Yagi smiled at the picture of Izuku on his phone. The kid was smart; smarter than he had been at that age. It had taken him knowing two things about One for All to figure out how to choose a successor. Even more impressive, he didn’t seem interested in it for himself. It lined up with him declaring that his friend would be the number one hero.

The thoughtful expression on his face reminded him of Tsukauchi which sent him sheepishly back to his paperwork. He had admired the man since almost the moment he met him. He was understanding, level-headed, and calm under pressure. He was exactly the kind of person Yagi was looking for. Too bad he was fifteen years too old to start life as a pro hero.

His pen slowed as his mind turned to Mirio Togata. He was, on paper, the perfect successor to All Might. That was part of the problem. He had been thinking, especially since Izuku had pointed it out, that he wasn’t the only person the successor should be like. Nana had been enthusiastic and nurturing, and her own mentor was rough around the edges but a good man with a good heart.

They had all been underground heroes. Hiding from All for One. Maybe he could see if Eraserhead had any favorite students. His future coworker was the poster boy for underground heroes; well, as much as they could have one.

He shook his head and redoubled his efforts to focus on his paperwork.

 

“Do you think I’m being too hard on them?” Shota asked as he lay half under the kotatsu in the living room of their shared condo.

Hizashi hummed and looked up from the papers he was grading. “Nah, you gave every one of them a second and even third chance. I don’t know what poisoned the pot but they just… they weren’t just acting out in heroics, you know. Half of them were just scraping by in my class, and a couple of them were actually failing Nem’s.” He stretched his long limbs, his feet bumping into Shota. “And that’s not to mention the tardies, absences, and disciplinary issues. You did what was best; no one faults you for it. Yuuei has a high standard and some people think that the pressure comes off once you make it through the doors. I heard Nezu is retooling the entrance exam to favor more teamwork.”

“Yeah. Weirdly, he seems to think it’s his fault that they even got in.”

“That sounds like him. That exam is his baby. Like he thinks if he can perfect it, none of the students will…” he trailed off and gave a melancholy sigh.

“Hmm. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Hizashi said in English.

“What?”

“I said you’re beautiful and I love you.”

“Liar.”

 

It was a Saturday when Kurogiri led Izuku to Kuroi Ba’s basement after their workout. It was as clean as the rest of the bar; if a little bare. The building’s boiler was tucked into one corner. There was a cot folded up against the wall with a card table and four folding chairs. The three narrow windows were spray-painted black so the only light was provided by a single bare bulb in the middle of the room.

Izuku blinked a few times as his vision shifted between full rich color and muted clarity. The corner of the basement flickered in and out of shadow as his improved night vision decided if it was bright enough. Izuku rubbed his eyes hoping it would stop. Finally, it settled in the ‘off’ position.

Hanging from the rafters in the center was a shirtless man with short dark hair. He looked completely nondescript except for the two four-inch blade-like spikes on each arm. Izuku had imagined that all the anger would just fade away when he saw the man. It did not.

Kurogiri gestured to the card table. On it was an array of makeshift torture implements. “Do as you like.”

“Are you awake?”

“The fuck, it’s just a kid,” the man murmured opening his eye. “The fuck do you want from me? I’m nobody. I got no money. I don’t owe anybody.”

“You hurt someone, recently,” he explained. “I want you to tell me why.”

“I needed money.”

“No,” Izuku growled. “That explains the mugging, but she handed over the money. Why did you hurt her?”

“Fuck off. What kinda sick game is this?”

“I’m not very good at interrogation, huh?” he asked.

“You are doing fine. You just started,” Kurogiri assured him. “He’ll answer you soon enough.” He offered a simple knife to Izuku. When the boy just stared blankly at him, he added. “Or if your heart is not in it, you could just exact revenge, an eye for an eye, and leave it at that.”

He realized Kurogiri meant for him to cut the man. He wasn’t sure that he could. But his mother’s cut wasn’t that deep, he wouldn’t have to put much force behind it. And hesitation marks were shallower still. He could just knick the guy’s arm.

Izuku knew that Kurogiri wouldn’t want to push him into this. He wouldn’t be angry if he set the knife down and told him to let the man go. But he went through all the trouble of finding him and trussing him up. This wasn’t like a fight, but the adrenaline pounded in his ears anyway.

He grabbed a folding chair and set it next to the dangling man. He pressed the blade lightly to his skin and with a single sweeping motion ran it down his forearm. It was deeper than he expected, but blood barely welled up in the cut. The man hissed in pain.

When his chair was kicked out from under him, Izuku had the presence of mind to toss the knife. He managed to tuck his chin to his chest and take the impact with his shoulders. “Guess I deserved that,” he said ruefully. “Cut him down.”

“That’s it? You did all this because I scratched up some fat cow?” their captive said disbelief evident in his voice. “Bitch only had two thousand yen. I could pay it back if that’s what it’s about.”

“It’s not,” Izuku said standing. “You hurt her.”

“So? Bitch thought she was better than me. Talking about do I need some money to get a nice meal? I fucking put that cow in her place.”

Izuku couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did this man have no sense of self-preservation? It pissed him off. Where his anger before had been a hot, rolling storm this was cold and calm. He knew it was dangerous. It was the same feeling he’d had when he’d thrown the chair in class, but there was no wall of hesitation to overcome now. No paralyzing anxiety over what to do.

“Now you’re not allowed to have nice things,” Izuku said darkly. He righted the chair, and asked, “Can you secure his legs?” At Kurogiri’s nod, he turned his attention back to the man. “She is better than you.”

Once he was secured and gagged, he grabbed the knife and a pair of pliers. He knew what he was thinking was sick, but he was going to make sure this man never hurt anyone again. Steeling himself, he poked and prodded the man’s arm to see how his spikes were connected. They shifted around with his skin, so weren’t connected to the bone. They were likely keratin growths.

Izuku cut around the first spike, flinching when the man screamed into his gag. It wasn’t too deep. He assumed it was a little like a fingernail, if he pulled out the germinal matrix they wouldn’t grow back. There was a lot of blood by the time he finished.

Kurogiri reached over him to stuff the wound with gauze and wrap it tightly in a bandage. Izuku stepped back to allow him a better angle. As he stared at the spike in his hand, Izuku felt bile rise in his throat. The blood-covered spike fell from his grip. He lurched toward the wall to avoid falling. He wretch over and over. With his stomach empty, he slid down the wall into a crumpled heap. A hitched sob escaped him and Izuku let it overtake him.

After a few moments, he was offered a bottle of water and a hug. He rinsed his mouth out while Kurogiri gently rubbed his back. Beneath the acidic bile, he could still taste that distinctly water flavor he’d never noticed before the coma. He shoved his face into Kurogiri’s chest. The man held him, whispering, “It is alright,” over and over. Izuku didn’t know what was all right. Was it all right that he did this? Was it all right that he couldn’t do this? Was all right the general state of the universe? This, doing this would have so little impact on the world at large. But it devastated Izuku. It wasn’t all right.

“I can’t, can’t be a hero now,” he choked out.

“Of course, you can,” Kurogiri soothed. “Do you think heroes never do bad things? That they can’t do good once they have?”

He nodded.

Kurogiri chuckled. “What about your Kacchan then?”

Startled by the question, Izuku swallowed a hiccupping sob and stared up at him. “Kacchan’s never done anything this b-bad.”

“To many, his behavior is worse; his target was an innocent. Yours is a low-grade villain.” Kurogiri tightened his arms around the boy.

“Kacchan never hurt–”

“Do not lie to me, Izuku,” Kurogiri said.

“It was always only bumps and scrapes. Nothing to fuss over,” he defended.

“If no one cares then it is alright?”

“That’s not what –”

“It is not what you meant, but it is the reality we live in,” Kurogiri said. “Is it right for this man to get away with his crime?”

“No, of course not, but this – this isn’t the way to handle it,” he pleaded.

“Very well. I shall deliver him to the police after we’ve cleaned you up,” Kurogiri acquiesced.

Izuku was too weak to argue, a delay of a few minutes wouldn’t make a difference. “Okay.”

 He let himself be pulled to his feet and led upstairs. He was left at the bar as Kurogiri went to grab a change of clothes for him. Kurogiri told Tomura, “He’s letting Kato go. Leave him alone, his emotions are raw.”

“You look like shit,” Tomura said as soon as Kurogiri left the room. He leaned over the bar and grabbed a shot glass. He filled it with cheap whisky. “Drink this it’ll help.” When Izuku just eyed him, he added, “Sip it, don’t slam it. It’s half a shot it, won’t get you drunk either way. It will burn. And it will help.”

Izuku shook his head. “I… I can’t do this.”

“It’s not like we expect you to kill him.”

“I was going to take his spikes. But…”

“You got sick,” Tomura supplied. “It happens. That’s hardcore of you straight out of the gate. I bet he regrets attacking your mom.”

“I don’t care. I can’t be a hero now.”

“Pfft. So? What’s so great about heroes?”

“They help people,” he said simply. He was too emotionally exhausted to have this argument. He rested his head against the bar.

Tomura leaned over the bar again. He grabbed the small knife Kurogiri used to cut fruit. “Give me your arm.”

“No,” Izuku said flatly, tucking his arms under his head.

Tomura slammed the knife down knocking over the shot. He grabbed Izuku’s wrist and yanked his arm out. “You’re right, you can’t be a hero. Not because of what you did to that pathetic thug, but because you’re weak. Useless. I could kill you right now and the only thing that would happen is Kurogiri would yell at me.”

Izuku tried to wrench his arm free. When Tomura’s grip proved to be stronger than he predicted, he tried to kick him. Tomura dragged him off the barstool and twisted his arm behind his back. He shoved Izuku towards the stairs to the basement.

“I bet your mother was that scared when he cut her. The fear is worse than the pain. Will I see them again? Are they coming after me? I was so helpless. No one reached out to save me.” As he spoke, his already rough voice took on a thick emotional quality that spoke of personal experience. “Do you want to be a hero grinning like an idiot for the press or do you want to actually help people?” He let Izuku go with a shove. Tomura ambled over to the card table. He picked up the spike and gave a low whistle. “Look at this! He filed it down into a blade. He wants to hurt people.” He held the spike like a knife and slashed the air experimentally. “You’re the only one that can stop him. I won’t do it for you and neither will Kurogiri. Heroes would just turn him over to the police. They might clip his spikes, but they’ll grow out again. He’ll sharpen them again. He’ll hurt someone again. He could kill someone next time. But that’s up to you. You can take away his power.”

Izuku felt so numb. What Tomura said made logical sense but it was immoral. They lived in a society of laws and rules. He couldn’t just… but he could, a little voice said in the back of his head. That was Tomura’s point. No one would know, no one could stop them. But… “It’s not right.”

“Says who?”

“Everyone. Even you know it’s not right!”

“But it happens anyway. Are you going to follow an arbitrary set of restrictions, or are you going to help people? This blade is jagged. Will you still feel like letting him go when she has a scar for the rest of her life? We might not be able to find him again,” Tomura goaded.

“I’ll throw up again.”

“Small price to pay for peace of mind.” Tomura moved over to the captive. He slashed his bare chest with the spike. The wound was jagged and the man cried out, still muffled by his gag.

“You don’t think it means I’m weak?”

Tomura laughed. “I think giving up means you’re weak. Puking means you’re green. You’ll get used to it in time.”

Izuku retrieved the knife and pliers. He stepped back onto the chair. After a moment he asked, “Do you know how to bandage this like Kurogiri did?”

“No,” Tomura admitted.

Kurogiri cleared his throat from the doorway. The two young men flinched and turned toward him, both looking guilty. Izuku turned back to his grim task when Kurogiri merely smiled at them. “It is alright.”

Chapter 7: Being Alright

It was all right. Birds still chirped. School was still boring. His mom still loved him. She even relaxed a little when she caught the news about her mugger being attacked by some vigilantes. 

Izuku kept busy; studying, training, and learning to cook from his mother. His cooking skills improved almost as quickly as his fighting skills. He could make a decent curry and had no problem making rice on the stove if needed. Kurogiri taught both him and a reluctant Tomura basic first aid and bone setting. He took an additional after-school class on it as well.

At night, since he hardly slept anymore, Izuku sent pictures to Kurogiri. The night sky from the balcony. The Gang Orca plushie sitting on his pillow. A stack of three oranges on the coffee table. Some nights Kurogiri was up as well and they talked or texted. Other nights even that wasn’t enough, and he would go for a run. He would avoid the beach because the smell of the rusting appliances had started to make him feel nauseous. He tried not to think about how it reminded him of the smell of blood.

The cold night air bit into his lungs as he gasped for breath. His legs ached. His heart still raced. Izuku stood bent over at the foot of the stairs trying to breathe. A subtle, generic chime sounded from his pocket.

He looked at the text from Kurogiri. Are you awake?

Yep, he texted back.

Would you like to see a show with me?

Sure. Just give me time to shower and change; I’ll meet you across the street.

Are you all sweaty from a late-night workout?

Just a run. Reinvigorated from both the invite and the short rest, Izuku jogged up the stairs.

Then just come as you are. I will provide appropriate attire for the venue.  

He turned around, hearing the familiar fuzzy, buzzing of the warp gate. A tall figure in a heavy coat, hat, and scarf stepped out of the darkness. He leaned against the low wall of the small playground. He considered teasing Kurogiri and heading into his apartment but another text came through; I thought I would share something I like, for a change.

Izuku took the stairs down two at a time and jogged across the street with barely a glance in either direction. The pair walked into the warp gate without a word.

A stack of clothes was waiting for him at the end of the bar. He took them into the bathroom to change. There was a snug, sleeveless black t-shirt, a short-sleeved navy button-up, and a pair of dark blue jeans. That there were also socks, shoes, and underwear unnerved him a little. He placed his clothes on the end of the bar and stood in front of Kurogiri, who had removed his coat, hat, and scarf.

“You look gorgeous,” he said. “Does everything fit properly?”

The boy blushed. “Um, t-thank you. Yeah, the shirt is a bit tight but I’m betting that’s a feature, not a bug. Hey, is there, is there a reason you got me a, uh, whole outfit?”

“Your wardrobe is adorable but inappropriate for where I’m taking you.”

“Um, do I need to worry about, like, audience participation?” he asked, his hands rubbing subconsciously at the waistband of the underwear; which peaked out over the low-waisted jeans.

“No. Never. And even if they did I would not let anyone else touch you,” Kurogiri assured him. “You find Jujitsu to be intimate. I think you will agree that this is more so.” He opened a gate and offered his hand to Izuku. Grinning, he let himself be dragged through.

The place was a repurposed movie theater; it felt like a small convention hall. The hallways were set up with stalls for art and merch sales. The screens were set up with movies, live performances, or panels. The only thing that made Izuku uncomfortable was the subject matter: Sex.

He blushed furiously and gave a startled squeak. While there was no actual nudity in the halls there seemed to be just about everything else. He pressed up against Kurogiri, tucking himself under the man’s arm. “Am I even allowed to be in here?” he asked softly into the other man’s grey vest.

“Technically the event is in itself illegal, so, no.” Kurogiri pulled him in tighter as they walked. “We have twenty minutes before the show starts, so let me know if you want to look at anything.”

Izuku didn’t think he would like anything on offer, but he was curious by nature. After a few minutes of shy, embarrassed glancing, he did see something he wanted a closer look at. At a stall called Aesthetic, intermingled with more colorful versions of the typical whips, chains, and comically large dildos, was a collection of guidebooks.

As he read the titles, Kurogiri picked out a book of photographs called Nature in Bondage. It was exactly what it said it was: rocks, trees, and other natural objects in traditional rope bondage. Kurogiri caught his wrist as he reached for a beginner’s guide to Kinbaku. He held a deep burgundy jute rope against his skin.

“Oh my god, that is such a good color for him!” the salesman cooed. “It should be illegal!”

“It is,” Kurogiri replied, not taking his eyes off Izuku. The boy swallowed and trembled slightly. The blush that had been slowly dying down came back full force. “I like dark, muted colors like this. What do you think?”

“Uh.” His heart was racing. He didn’t trust himself to reply. It was everything he could do not to panic and babble in too loud a voice. He nodded, a little too enthusiastically.

Kurogiri stepped behind him, pressing flush against his back. Izuku noticed that Kurogiri did not have an erection. His arms folded comfortingly around Izuku’s shoulders and he rested his chin on the boy’s head. Unlike anyone else in a similar position, he did not grind against his partner. It was very cozy. “I know this can all be a little much for you. Just remember that you are not agreeing to do anything.”

They stayed like that until Izuku could control his breathing. “I kind of like the undyed look.”

Kurogiri practically purred at that. “Well, then.” He added two different thicknesses of the undyed rope and the book Izuku had been reaching for to his own selections. “We still have a few minutes, are you curious about anything else.”

“Um. I wouldn’t even know,” he admitted, blushing again. He tucked himself back under Kurogiri’s arm. “Can we just wander around?”

“Of course.” Kurogiri steered them in the general direction of the show they were going to. He kept them away from most of the more questionable stalls.

Until Izuku dragged him to a hero fetish stall. There were all shades of unlicensed merchandise, from things simply being in a hero’s color scheme to realistic molds of body parts. A small portable DVD player was running a compilation of candid recordings and sex tapes. Izuku ran his fingers along the table in front of a neat row of packaged used underwear.

Kurogiri let him linger over the strange mess of adoration-turned-obsession and gross invasion of privacy until they needed to head to the show. “Come along; if we miss the introductions I will actually buy you something from here. Oh, those are cute.” He pointed to a pair of panties with All Might’s face on the front.

Izuku bushed and dragged him away from the stall. “Th-that’s not necessary!”

They entered the darkened theater. Tables had replaced the rows of seats. A large stage was set up at the front. Kurogiri seated them at an already occupied table near the exit. Izuku was seated flush against him.

When the show started, three obscured figures came on stage, standing about four feet apart. They told the audience their stage names and safeword. The boy gave a surprised squeak, as they were all naked. While he couldn’t make out color in the dim light, he could see every detail; the woman’s long loose hair cascading over her shoulders, the smattering of coarse hair on the man’s chest, the third’s subtle smile.

The male performer removed a length of glow-in-the-dark rope from a bag and moved from the right of the stage to the left. He hid his face in Kurogiri’s chest whenever the performance highlighted the performers’ more intimate parts.

The performer tied his partner’s arms behind her; one hand on her elbow the other in the crook of her arm. She was turned for the audience to admire the binding as the rope was wrapped around her chest just below the shoulders. After a second pass, the rope was tucked under the length leading to the shoulders to straighten that connection. Next, the rope was brought under the arm and over the chest strap. It was pulled to the other arm and repeated.

The pair of knots rested between the performer’s shoulder blades. The glowing rope painted about two inches of her skin in soft pink light. A second rope was brought out and ran under her breasts and around her waist. A third was used to make a Y-shaped harness that ran between her breasts.

Another rope was wrapped around her waist and Izuku marveled at how the darkness and glow-in-the-dark rope made it seem as if the pair only existed where the rope touched them. The rope was brought over the curve of her butt and around the top of one thigh. As with the Y harness, a decretive twist was added as the rope was brought back up to the waist at the hip and then back down to the front of the thigh. It was then pulled between the legs and secured in the back. This was repeated for the other side.

A large black D ring was secured to the ropes and the female performer was suspended upside down. One leg was tied so that her heel practically rested against her butt. The other was hooked to her chest harness to bow her back and keep the blood from pooling in her head. The man ran his hands over her. He leaned down and kissed her before repositioning her. The bent leg was connected to the chest harness and the free one was used to spin her about.

It was here that Izuku learned why this event was illegal; other than having lax standards about the admittance of minors. The third performer activated their quirk, creating an afterimage of the pair that repeated the performance in a loop.

The woman’s leg and arms were untied and the partners switched roles. Blue glow-in-the-dark rope was used to make the same style of chest and hip harnesses on him. When the D ring was added, instead of suspending him, he was secured to the floor and his partner’s quirk was used to – at first, Izuku thought levitate him, but then he noticed the way the man’s hair was falling up – reverse gravity on him. Both of his legs were bent and drawn towards his head. She kissed him before repositioning him into a cross-legged sitting pose. An afterimage of this was created as well.

His legs were released, as was her quirk, and the pair moved to center stage. The male performer was rebound and suspended from the floor. The female performer was then trusted up above him. The pair kissed passionately. The third performer repositioned them several times, their hands always running suggestively over the others’ bodies. Finally, the two were positioned in what was upright for their respective gravitational orientations, and, to Izuku’s increasing discomfort, they were bound together with a purple rope.

As they began rutting against one another, Kurogiri stood, bringing the boy with him. They weren’t the only people leaving early, although they were the only ones not headed to a stall or private corner.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Kurogiri asked. His voice was barely a whisper and if Izuku hadn’t been tucked securely against his side, he wouldn’t have heard it above the din of the busy hall. It also carried an edge he hadn’t heard from the man before. Far from his usual confidence, concern, or teasing, Kurogiri sounded apprehensive.

“It was fine,” he said softly. “I think the ropes are pretty, but I could do without the, um, sex stuff. It’s all still, kinda, embarrassing, you know.”

“Not really,” he admitted. “I do not remember being a teenager. Nothing before Sensei saved me.”

“Oh.” Izuku looked down and scuffed his foot at the carpet.

“It is alright to be embarrassed, though. I understand if this is too much.” Kurogiri led him to the wall and pushed him against it. “Tell me if you want to leave. Tell me if you cannot handle this. Tell me if, if you no longer want to –”

“It’s not that,” Izuku interrupted. “I mean, yeah this is a weird place for a date, but it’s not like you get to go out comfortably most of the time. I just, I’m not ready, and this reminds me that I’m keeping you waiting. I’m sorry.”

“Waiting? For what?”

“Sex.”

“Oh. Oh, my dear sweet Izuku-kun, I am not waiting for that. I do not feel sexual attraction. I, I am asexual,” he confessed. “I do love you, and I crave intimacy. I know it will be a long time before we can do this,” he jostled the shopping bag, “but just knowing that you are open to the idea is enough for me.”

Izuku took a long moment to process what he had heard. “So, when you said you didn’t care if I was ever ready, you really meant it.”

“Of course I meant it. It applies to things I want just as much. If you never want to try kinbaku, you do not need to,” he reassured the boy. “I’d understand if you no longer wanted to be with me. You are young and should be free to –”

Izuku hugged him. “All the other messed up things and you think this will be what puts me off? At least now I know you like our silly flirty pictures as much as I do.” He held his… boyfriend? Partner? S.O.? Lover... wouldn’t be right. “Um. So now, now that we’ve established that we’re an, uh, item… is there a term you prefer? Partner? Boyfriend?”

“Either is fine for me. Partner emphasizes that we are equals, but boyfriend is cute.”

He smiled. “I think I’ll use both at least for a while.”

“Good, you should feel free to experiment. It is important at your age.” Kurogiri pulled him away from the wall. “Is there anything you want to look at before we leave? I think we should continue this conversation in private.”

“Uh, not really. I wouldn’t mind reading more about uh, this in general but I can look it up on the internet.”

“Oh, that just will not do. You should get your education from a reputable source.” He steered them to a stall that seemed to be selling nothing but basic supplies.

“So, um you uh, m-masturbate, right?” Izuku flushed red again.

“Yes,” Kurogiri replied as he picked out a few books with 101 in the title. BDSM, Kink, and Bondage were quickly selected but he hesitated to add another kinbaku book or other specific kinks from the series.

The boy blushed harder as he cheekily asked, “To pictures of rocks in bondage?”

“And a certain someone’s sock-clad feet.”

He gave an ‘eep’ and hid his face in Kurogiri’s vest.

The stall’s operator eyed them then gestured to the Age-Play book.

“No, thank you,” Kurogiri replied. His eyes narrowed and the mist that was his form rolled in a way that spoke to Izuku of genuine anger.

The clerk looked pointedly at Izuku.

“It is not the same thing at all,” Kurogiri bit out. “That is about someone acting helpless. He is perfectly capable if a little naive.” 

“Is there a book on age difference?” Izuku asked his voice muffled.

“Not sure they would have an Ephebophilia 101 book. Not that I suffer from that affliction. I like you, in particular,” Kurogiri said petting his hair.

The clerk dug a slightly battered copy of Chonophilia 101 out of a box under the counter.

“That is actually a bit impressive,” Kurogiri admitted taking the book. “I do not want to overwhelm you, but if there is anything else you are curious about, we can get it.”

“Five books to read when I want isn’t that much. It’s hiding them from Mom that worries me,” Izuku replied, finally taking his face out of Kurogiri’s side. He looked at the titles on offer but was quickly distracted by a pair of plain black socks with a simple logo near the top. It was a dark grey triskele with dots in the three sections. The label said it was the BDSM logo. He pointed to it and asked, “Will you buy me some socks?”

“Of course, but not those. One of the uses of that logo is to attract other practitioners, and while I have no problem with you dating, experimenting, or what have you with someone your own age, I do not want you being taken advantage of.”

“Yeah, I want them as a discreet thing between us, so get me some that you like. I’ll send you some pictures as a late birthday present.”

“Hmm,” Kurogiri considered his options. Mostly the socks on offer were knee-highs, which were not discreet on a fifteen-year-old boy. “Do you have any sock garters?”

The clerk nodded and rummaged around before producing three varieties of garters. They very obviously ranged in price. The cheapest had a single clip, the middle one had very shiny hardware, and the most expensive was all black with antlers embossed on the leather attaching the suspender slings.

“Now all your socks can be special,” Kurogiri said as he paid for the garters and books. “This way.” He moved them to a less crowded section and warped them away.

“So, what else is there to talk about?” Izuku asked as he was led into a quiet, smoke-filled bar.

“I need to apologize for letting you think that … that I might lose interest in you. I thought that your offers for racier exchanges were just the impatience of youth. I did not mean to make you feel pressured.”

“That’s not your fault, you’re always telling me I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to,” the boy reassured him as they slid into a private booth. “I just. Before you and Sensei, I only had mom, so I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You do not have to worry about that. I like you as you are. I like you when you are a blushing mess and when you are fierce and determined.”

“It’s just weird to be liked.”

They paused when the server came over. “Ah, just two coffees and an appetizer platter.”

The server didn’t look phased, neither by the order nor the clearly underage boy. “Sure thing, handsome.”

After she left Izuku said, “You know, it’s kinda appropriate that we’re having this conversation, on our first real date.” He chuckled. “We should do this more often.”

“How would you feel about a moonlit picnic next time?”

“I’d love that.” Izuku looked nervous for a moment. “I, uh, I really liked tonight. It was nice being that close to you.”

“I am glad you enjoyed it. I was a little worried it might start to feel possessive once you got comfortable with the environment.”

“I don’t think I would mind that too much. If you were a little possessive of me.”

“In that case, I want to give you a bracelet made with some of the rope I bought.”

“Is that like collaring?”

“I am surprised you know about that,” Kurogiri said with a purr in his voice. “But kind of. It would be the same as normal people exchanging promise rings.” He pulled the burgundy rope out and wrapped it around Izuku’s wrist twice to measure. He used a small warp gate to cut two lengths and tied a square knot for decoration. Then he secured it with a frog knot closure. “Beautiful.”

He blushed. “If, if it’s like a promise…”

“You would like to do the same for me?”

Izuku nodded.

“Good to know I am not the only one being slightly possessive.” He handed the undyed rope to Izuku and offered his wrist. With a bit of guidance, the boy tied a matching bracelet on Kurogiri. “Do you want to make a specific promise?”

“I promise not to chuck my phone into the sea.”

“I promise to wait.”

The server returned with their food and coffee. “Can I get you anything else? Sake maybe?”

“No thank you,” Kurogiri replied.

“Are you sure?” She reached out and touched his shoulder. “I could hook you up. We just got a shipment of Gassan Shuzo.”

Paired with her earlier comment this had Izuku a little miffed. “Are you flirting or just upselling?”

Kurogiri brushed her hand away. “No thank you,” he repeated in the same neutral tone.

She huffed but let them be.

“Maybe you should sit next to me,” Kurogiri suggested. “That way there is no confusion.”

Izuku giggled, but he slid into the booth with him. “You are so corny sometimes.”

“Should I try harder to impress you?”

“No, I like it. I like it when you’re being a badass, or mother-hening me and Tomura, or being a sweet sappy romantic. You’re one of the most dangerous people I know but you make me feel so safe and comfortable.”

“Powerful allies will do that.”

“Tomura is an ally; Sensei is, sort of, an ally. You are so much more than that.” He leaned into Kurogiri and pulled the man’s arm around him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It was such a simple thing but it shook Izuku to his core to hear those words; and for Kurogiri to say them so easily.

He laced his fingers together with his boyfriend’s, admiring their bracelets. Both were unique, beautiful, and perfectly suited to the wearer, but also fundamentally the same. The undyed jute rope contrasted with the black mist that was Kurogiri’s flesh. The simplicity of the knot lent it elegance. The knowledge of its origins sent heat to Izuku’s cheeks, and perhaps a bit lower.

They sat in that position sipping their coffees and nibbling at the food, just enjoying being together. The pair would remember their first date forever. A thing as strange as themselves; the barest of a traditional framework with details that should be all wrong but here they were more comfortable and happier than either could ever remember being.

Kurogiri paid the check and opened a warp gate. Unsurprised to find himself back at Kuroi ba, Izuku was also a bit disappointed that it was over.

“Would you consent to sleeping with me?” Kurogiri asked. The boy’s blush was deep and immediate. “I mean actually sleep. There are some sleep pants you could borrow. And I know you only sleep for a short time, but I don’t want this to be over yet.” He reached out and caressed his bright cheeks.

“That would be perfect,” Izuku replied, nuzzling the misty, almost-not-there hand. It felt at once solid and ethereal; strong yet airy.

They went downstairs to Kurogiri and Tomura’s apartment. He had known it was there but had never seen it before. The living room and kitchenette were dominated by things that were obviously Tomura’s: a TV on the floor with four different consoles, a tall shelf packed with games, snack foods, and disposable dishes. There were three doors leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. The bathroom door was open and Tomura’s had a simple wood sign on it.

Kurogiri led him into his room. It was simple and elegant with grey tones dominating the color scheme. The exterior wall was grey brick with two large windows. The other three walls were mouse grey; a medium grey with a touch of brown. It worked well with the precious natural light the room got during the day. The ceiling, window trim, and closet were a warm tinted white – somewhere between eggshell and dove – while the floor was the same honey blonde as the living room.

Most of the furnishings were finished in matte black. The bed was a modern four-poster with crisp white linens and a charcoal comforter. Two low bookcases were used as nightstands. A long dresser with a mirror sat across from the bed. A footstool, armchair, and sturdy wooden chair made up a sitting area.

A few decorations lent some seasonal personality to the very neutral space. A trio of racy art prints hung between the windows. A smoked glass skull sat on one nightstand with a trio of tea lights in ceramic jack-o’-lanterns. The other held a witch’s hat decorated with orange ribbon, black feathers, and pumpkins. A bouquet of dried flowers in a black vase was on the dresser, across from a stack of leather-bound books and a cast iron caldron filled with pumpkin spice potpourri. A garland of various orange and black ribbons, wooden bats and ghosts, and black leaves, vines, and twigs encircled the ceiling.

One would be forgiven for missing the various heavy-duty eyehooks around the room. Four blended in with the headboard. Two were set on either side of the light fixture in the center of the room. A set of six was neatly hidden by the art prints in between the windows. Just knowing they were there made Izuku blush.

After placing their books on the shelves, and the rope in a dresser drawer, Kurogiri got two pairs of black sleep pants out and offered one to the boy. “I will not look if you want to change in here, but feel free to use the bathroom if you would be more comfortable.”

“I trust you,” Izuku said taking the pants and backing towards the door, “but I’d be so embarrassed I’d probably trip over myself.” He bumped into the wall. They both chuckled and he dashed out.

It was a beautiful bathroom, with warm dark tiles and ample lighting. The fixtures were all brushed copper. The tub and shower both looked to be designed with two people in mind. The shower was particularly fancy, with a rain shower, plenty of jets, and an elegantly tiled bench.

He stripped quickly, leaving the t-shirt on despite it being snug. After slipping on the sleep pants and cinching the waist, he folded the clothes and took them with him to Kurogiri’s room. He knocked softly on the door.

“Come in.” Kurogiri was seated on the bed with the covers pulled back. His chest was bare and his collar was off. It was the same as with his hands and face, a swirling mass of black mist. At the same time, there were hints of a well-defined torso, rippling with lean muscles.

The neatly folded clothes slipped from his fingers and Izuku stared, his mouth slightly agape. He knew he was being awkward but Kurogiri just settled back against the headboard and waited for him to recover. I promise to wait. He swallowed. “Uh.” He cleared his throat and walked to the foot of the bed. “Can I, um. I mean, I’d like to touch you if it’s okay.”

Kurogiri gave a deep low chuckle. “Of course. Far be it for me to get in the way when your attraction intersects with your fascination with quirks.” He settled down a little lower and spread his arms in invitation.

Izuku crawled onto the bed. He touched Kurogiri lightly at first; a shy, gentle caress of the shoulder. Soon though, he was firmly running his hands over the man’s chest. The mist was warm and curled around his fingers as if caressing him in return. The body below was both solid and covered with skin and just a mass of roiling mist. While his fingers didn’t sink into the mass, Izuku felt as though they would. The question was …

“Would it hurt if I pushed my hand in further?”

“Yes. My body is a body, even though I can spread it out and cover more area. When I use my warp gate things pass through easily, but the core remains solid,” Kurogiri explained.

He nodded filing the information away for later. He continued to explore his boyfriend’s corporeal form until exhaustion pulled them both into sleep. Izuku tucked himself under Kurogiri’s arm and snuggled into his chest. Wisps of mist curled into his lungs as his breathing evened out.

Still, he was awake again in two hours. Kurogiri would still sleep for five to six more. Izuku stayed next to him until his muscles began to ache. He eased out of the warm cocoon they made in their sleep. Not having a notebook to record in, he decided to get in a quiet workout. He did a long yoga routine, followed by a set of pushups and sit-ups. Then he did some squats, lunges, and planks.

When his stomach started growling, Izuku slid out of the room to search for food. Tomura was in front of the TV with a cup of noodles. “Hey.”

“You’re here early.”

“Uh, yeah. Can I have one of those?” Izuku asked.

“Did you stay the night?” Tomura asked as he stood and headed for the stairs.

“Sort of,” he admitted, following.

“Did you –”

“Just slept,” Izuku cut him off.

“Perverts,” he mumbled as he made his way into the kitchen.

“How is that perverted?” he asked.

Instead of answering Tomura smirked and opened a large stainless steel refrigerator. “Make something for us to eat. Kurogiri hates it when I just have noodles. He always goes on about proper nutrition and eating vegetables.”

“Yeah, okay. I can stir fry some veg to add to it,” Izuku said as he began to rummage. He was pleased to find containers of precut vegetables on the top shelf. Soon carrots, cabbage, onion, peppers, asparagus, and pea pods were sizzling away. Tomura shoved a bowl of frozen shrimp at him. “Sure, then we just need a sauce.”

“There are garlic, ginger, and honey in the pantry,” Kurogiri said from the door. He was still shirtless and appeared damp from a shower. Izuku grinned at him as he made Tomura take over the wok. He returned quickly and diced the garlic while Tomura was made to grate the ginger. “A tablespoon is all you need for this amount.” He also grabbed the soy sauce from the nearby rack and added a generous splash of that.

“Sorry if we woke you,” Izuku said as they dished up.

“No need to apologize. I’m just glad Tomura is eating healthy; he tends to indulge in garbage when he gets up before me,” Kurogiri assured him.

“Are we going jogging after this?”

“Of course. We could run a circuit around the neighborhood; maybe even convince Tomura to join us.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I’m going downstairs to play my game.”

“Otaku,” Kurogiri teased lightly.

Tomura flipped him off and disappeared with his plate.

Chapter 8: A Proper Name

His night vision muted out his opponent’s thick fur to a dusty tan but it brought his bulging muscles into sharp clarity. Izuku danced backward as the ox-like man swung furiously at him. Occasionally he’d deliver a kick to the brute’s right knee. The boy ducked under a wild haymaker. He stepped in and delivered a salvo of precise strikes to the man’s solar plexus. With their height difference, headshots weren’t an option. He continued his forward momentum, rolling behind him to strike the back of his knee, toppling his opponent.

Once the ox was on the ground, the boy straddled his back and locked in a rear choke. The man reached back and tried to pull Izuku’s arm free. When that didn’t work, he powered to his feet and slammed back first into a wall. Izuku kept the choke up for two more slams.

He coughed up blood – and felt a spike of adrenaline at the sight – before Kurogiri put a portal between him and his opponent. “Thank you. That will be all.” He held the rest of the money out to the man.

“Let me know if you want me to kick his ass again,” he said jerking the bills from Kurogiri’s loose grip.

“Come along, Izuku-kun,” Kurogiri called making a portal to the bar.

He trudged through it. “I’m not really improving, am I?”

“Two months ago you couldn’t walk back here,” Tomura pointed out. “I want curry for dinner.”

“You should let Izuku choose, as a reward for doing so well today,” Kurogiri said.

“Curry sounds great!” he said taking his now customary seat, leaving only one spot between himself and Tomura. His breathing refused to even out. His quirk, and the muteness that accompanied it, wouldn’t kick in until the adrenaline wore off. “But could we have some takoyaki too?”

Kurogiri was silent for a moment before huffing and saying, “I spoil you,” before disappearing into the kitchen.

Izuku grabbed a wet rag from behind the counter, heedless of the faint scent of bleach. He wiped his face and began taking slow, deep breaths. He closed his eyes. He opened them again. “Whisky bottle, faded poster, TV, pack of cards, lime knife. Bartop, jeans, rag, barstool. Passing car, humming light, kitchen hood fan. Bleach, frying batter.” He stopped. His mouth still tasted of blood. He plucked an old lime wedge from the container. “Slightly off lime.”

“Not that your babbling isn’t entertaining but what was that about?”

“It’s grounding. It helps calm me down faster if I’m still jacked up after a fight. Five things I can see. Four things I can touch. Three things I can hear. Two things I can smell. One thing I can taste.”

“You’re having panic attacks?” Tomura asked, recognizing the technique.

“No, I’m not. It’s just. I have a harder time calming down after a fight if there’s blood. I’m –” he was cut off by his own quirk.

“You’re fine?” Tomura asked. “Nod if I’m right. You get nauseous at the sight or smell of blood.”

Izuku hesitated but nodded.

“You feel a sense of impending doom.”

It took longer but he nodded to this as well.

“Chest pain.”

He shook his head no.

“Or a hard time breathing.”

A nod.

“Lightheadedness.”

Again a shake of the head.

“Numbness,”

 No.

“Or tingling,”

Another no.

“They seem fairly mild but you are having panic attacks.” Tomura paused and then confessed, “I used to have them when I was younger. Sensei would have me recite numbers out of order, or tell him about my video games.”

Kurogiri brought out their food. Tomura let him know about Izuku’s panic attack. “You should have let me know. There are ways to work through that. We can’t help you if you don’t let us know there’s a problem.” He came around the bar and sat next to the boy as he ate. He would pet the boy’s hair or run his fingers over his shoulders. While it did cause Izuku to blush, it was clear that the touch was very welcomed.

After they ate, Kurogiri took him out again. He had never done that before. Tomura came with them, additional hands griping him along his arms, chest, and neck. That was a first as well. They arrived at the first bar Izuku had fought in.

“This had better not take long,” Tomura grumbled as he guided the boy out back. Kurogiri joined them a few moments later with the same orange-and-blue-clad miscreant as the first fight. “You got beat by this loser? That’s pathetic.”

“Oi, up yours Hand Job,” the man snapped.

“Kurogiri, I want to kill him,” Tomura growled.

“This lesson is for Izuku-kun. Though it would not hurt for you to learn some patience,” Kurogiri responded. He turned to Izuku. “I had intended for a mere rematch, but I think you are ready for the next lesson. Void Step may use his quirk. His goal will be to reach Tomura.” He turned to the thug, and said, “You only have to touch him to win.” Turning back to the pair, he continued, “To motivate him if he wins he earns another five thousand yen. That means no more takoyaki or katsudon for either of you for the rest of the month.” This caused both of the young men to whine. “Izuku-kun, your win condition is incapacitating Void.”

Izuku took a fighting stance, “Sorry, but Kurogiri’s katsudon is the best.”

Void Step made a vaguely circular motion with his right hand and a blue-edged portal opened beside him. It was as tall as he was and about as wide as a doorway. “I’m gonna take my time with you this time, boyo.”

Izuku closed on him, coming in for an obvious power shot. Void countered with a jab, that he accepted. His right hook snapped Void’s head back.

As Void scampered back, he created an orange-edged portal with his left hand. Izuku concluded that he needed one of each for them to work and wondered if he could make more than two. And if so, were they paired, or would any two work? Also were they two-way or one-directional?

His analysis almost made him miss Void stepping through the portal to wind up behind him. Izuku hopped over the leg sweep and noted that another portal had been created on the ground. He could create them from his feet as well. He landed and kicked Void in the shoulder. Another portal was thrown up to block his next kick. He was sure it fractured his tibia as pain blossomed in his shin.

Void scrambled to his feet and dashed toward Tomura creating portals as he went. Izuku stepped onto the center of the portal in front of him and leaped into the air. He tackled Void Step to the ground, his blue and orange sunglasses clattering to rest at Tomura’s feet.

He was impressed that the man still had the presence of mind to keep making portals. Izuku straddled Void’s back and began raining punches down on him. Void managed to buck him off, throwing him forward. Both fighters scrambled to their feet. Void threw a punch into one portal and out another to strike Izuku in the hip.

Grunting he sprung at Void, who dodged through a portal and emerged further away. It looked like the portals either got smaller as he made more or he needed to concentrate to maintain their size. Izuku took in the placement of each one while Void Step caught his breath.

Void threw a punch into the portal next to him. It came out of the one closest to Tomura. Izuku was already there, one hand wrapping around the man’s wrist while the other delivered a brutal strike to his elbow. The sick wet pop made even Tomura cringe a little.

Void Step yanked his arm back and the portals collapsed. “Fuck, asshole!”

“No touching,” Izuku growled, stalking up to the man.

“Sh-shit,” he exclaimed as he backpedaled and tried to make another portal. It was only the size of a saucer. Void clutched his arm to his chest. “I give, man. This ain’t worth it.”

Kurogiri chuckled. “Very well. Izuku-kun, enough.”

Tomura picked up Void Step’s sunglasses. “Consider yourself lucky. I always destroy the things that I hate.” He let the glasses crumble to ash in his hand.

Kurogiri paid the man and sent him on his way. They returned to Kuroi ba, which was rapidly becoming a second home to Izuku.

He had only taken a few steps before he crashed to the floor with a pained yelp. Kurogiri was at his side in an instant; checking him for injuries. Izuku winced as Kurogiri ran his hand over his leg.

With a grumble, he cut the boy’s pant leg off. “Give him something to bite down on while I set this,” he ordered. “You should have said something if you were in pain.”

Izuku looked at his leg before answering. As expected a bruise had already formed. The swelling that accompanied it was concerning. He tried to speak but he could only shrug in response.

A clean rag was shoved at his face. He took it, folded it, and bit down on it. Tomura grabbed him around the waist, folding his pinkies in to avoid disintegrating him. Kurogiri took his ankle in both hands and slowly began pulling. Pain shot up Izuku’s leg. He tossed his head back on Tomura’s shoulder. Kurogiri pulled harder, slowly increasing the amount of force on the leg. He clenched his jaw and howled into the rag. It felt like forever, but after a few minutes, the bone slid back into place.

As Kurogiri stood to search for a makeshift splint, Izuku spat the rag out. His head lolled into the crook of Tomura’s neck. His panting breath was hot and wet on the other man’s skin. Tomura held him in place without complaint. Kurogiri returned and wrapped the leg with an ACE bandage. Then secured two freshly cut lengths of broom handle to the leg with his belt.

“That should do it. You need to stay off it for a few hours. Nod if you understand.” Kurogiri waited for Izuku’s nod. “Good. Nod if you can sit on your own.” Again he nodded. “Excellent. Tomura, thank you for your assistance. I’m going to fry up some tempura, but there will be plenty of shrimp. Alright?” This time both young men nodded.

When Kurogiri disappeared into the kitchen, Tomura carefully lifted Izuku and helped him into his seat at the bar. He smiled gratefully at him. Tomura huffed in response. Izuku pantomimed a writing motion at him.

“No, if you’re going to be like this you need to learn to communicate without it,” he groused.

Izuku sketched out the kanji for ‘thank you’ in the air.

“I got nothing.”

He huffed. Then he leaned over, mindful of his leg, and hugged Tomura awkwardly.

“Get off of me you pathetic brat,” he growled but when he pushed Izuku back, he was careful not to push him off the stool. “What happened to ‘no touching’?”

The boy just grinned in response. Kurogiri came out with the first round of tempura. It was mostly shrimp and green beans, but there was a small plate of calamari. Izuku pushed it toward Tomura, knowing that he favored seafood. A small bowl of peanut sauce was put in front of Izuku. Neither young man was particularly fond of it, but he ate it for the added calories. Tomura would occasionally reach over and dip a vegetable in it.

After a few pieces of calamari, it was clear that Tomura wasn’t hungry and he pushed the plate over to him. Grinning, the boy found his voice and teased, “Tomura-kun likes me.”

“What gives you that idea?” Tomura huffed.

“You said you destroy what you hate, and here I am!” He reached down to scratch his shin.

He hissed in pain when Tomura slapped his hand. “Leave it. And I don’t like you. At best, I tolerate you. Like a, a stray cat that you feel sorry for so you feed it and it never goes away and it’s always mewling for attention.”

“Tomura-kun likes me,” he informed Kurogiri.

“I do not, you pathetic stray,” Tomura snapped. He jerked towards the bar and hunched his shoulders.

“Ah, so you’ve finally named him, Tomura. Good,” Shigaraki’s voice cut in. “Kurogiri, bring them both to me as soon as you are able.”

“Yes, Sensei,” Kurogiri replied.

“Named him?” Tomura asked.

“Stray. Those are your true feelings, are they not? That he is skitterish but loyal?” he asked. His voice was warm with genuine affection for Tomura. “He will need more than a name, if he is to protect you, though.” He paused, and his voice was still deep and warm but his words were more honeyed when he addressed Izuku. “I hope you don’t mind letting Tomura customize you somewhat. If you’re to be his bodyguard he’ll need to be completely comfortable around you.”

“Uh, um. I guess it’s okay,” he said with a nervous laugh.

Kurogiri warped them to a dingy lab. Strange humanoid creatures growing in vats lined one wall; a bank of computers dominated another. Izuku was seated on a rolling stool, he used his uninjured leg to turn the stool as he peered curiously around the room.

“I have or can acquire these quirks for him,” Shigaraki explained to Tomura.

 “Izu–, er, Stray, come here,” Tomura called after a few moments of reading the list. “You’re better at quirk analysis than I am.”

He was delighted to find that the list was on a touch screen and he could grey out rejected quirks or highlight the interesting ones. There were dozens of quirks listed. It was no wonder Tomura had asked him to decide. Izuku pointed to a string of five characters next to the name of one quirk, and asked, “What’s this notation here?”

“Just a personal note on how I determine compatibility,” Shigaraki explained. “The quirk type; whether it is a passive or active quirk, and if active is its use instantaneous, does it have a duration, and is that based on concentration; is it an accumulation quirk; it’s range, personal, close, mid, or long; and approximate strength.”

“And what makes a quirk more compatible with someone?”

“A passive mutation quirk like yours could be dropped into anyone that can handle its strength rating with little issue. Concentration quirks are better for determined or stubborn people, and accumulation quirks for patient ones. Other than that, if the recipient has a quirk the more things they share in common the more compatible. A hot-headed person is less likely to reject a fire-based quirk as is someone who can already throw fireballs,” Shigaraki-san said. “You are adaptive, patient, quick thinking, and determined. It’s like being an AB blood type. The quirk you have is like the O blood type.”

Izuku began muttering to himself. “We know we need something with some range. So, that’s one difference for sure, likely two as most mutation types lack ranged applications. Oh, and it’ll be an active quirk too. Hmm, that’s three differences straight away. We can only match strength and accumulation. But all of these should be reasonably compatible. So.” He quickly eliminated any quirk that didn’t off some form of either range, transport, or field control. It was still around twenty options. “Is there anything, in particular, you want me to be able to do?”

Tomura leaned over his shoulder to read the list. “Not really,” he murmured. “What’s Stray’s strength rating?”

“He has likely improved to a high C between his quirk and his training so far. He could take a B rank or a low A if you wanted to push it,” Shigaraki replied.

Tomura eliminated any option that wasn’t at least a B rank. There were three quirks left: a mid-range, B rank, quirk that let the user bind someone with their shadow; a long-range, B rank, cutting attack that with training could be very precise; and an A rank, sensory afflicting ability that caused extreme nausea and vertigo to everyone in a wide area.

Izuku swiped his hand in front of himself trying to imagine using the cutting quirk. “Tomura-san, I don’t think I could use that one.”

“That’s obvious,” he replied. “And this area of effect one would cause too many friendly fire incidents.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“It’s clearly the most useful–”

“It’s the most direct, but saying it’s the most useful quirk on this list is like saying a gun with infinite bullets is the best tool. Yeah, it kills people super well, but that’s all it does. And I don’t need you to kill for me,” Tomura said. He patted Izuku on the head, leaving his middle finger raised. “Maybe you can hold them while I disintegrate them. No cleanup.” He flashed him a slightly deranged smile and the boy smiled back like the sun.

“Shadow Bind is going in tonight, then. It’s an emitter type, so it will take some getting used to.” Shigaraki directed Izuku to a medical table with straps and padded cuffs. “We’ll only use them if you start having a seizure; which you shouldn’t.” He called for Doctor Ujiko.

The doctor shuffled out yawning. He gathered some supplies; a small paper cup of pills, a glass of water (lukewarm, round, and stale, with sharp notes of plastic that almost completely drown out the water flavor), two needles, and a rubber bite block. “Take these. They’ll make you sleep in a few minutes. But by then that won’t be scary. It’ll be a relief. This first injection is not so bad. It’ll keep you from getting an infection. Bite down on this. This next one will burn like I’m pouring acid in your veins. But you should pass out before the worst of it hits you.”

The doctor kept up a running commentary of what was happening until Izuku passed out, not that the boy could pay attention passed the pain.

 

Gradually, Izuku became aware of the murmur of people, muffled and distorted. He tried to roll over but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate. Even though he could feel the thrum of his quirk working throughout his whole body, his head felt like thousands of searing hot needles had lanced his skull. Passed the pain he felt another thrum, new and foreign.

Izuku struggled to make a fist. It took several tries before his hand obeyed him. With supreme effort, he lifted his arm. Straps were holding it in place. He dropped it. His other arm was free. Lift. He willed his hand up and let it drop. Thunk. Make a fist. Thunk! Again. Thunk!

The voices stopped. Footsteps approached him. He opened his eyes and squeezed them shut again. It was like staring through a fishbowl while riding the teacups at an amusement park. Thankfully, the lab was kept dim as what light there was aggravated the pain in his skull.

“He’s awake much sooner than expected.”

“He is a fighter.”

“It’s not doing him any favors. I may have to sedate him.”

Izuku shook his head. That was a mistake. A sharp pain ripped through him like the crackle of lightning.

“Calm down. You’ll rip the IV out again.” Kurogiri’s hand pressed down on his forehead. “You keep activating your new quirk.” Kurogiri’s other hand ran across… something.

Izuku pushed passed the pain – it was ebbing slowly but noticeably – to take stock of his body. One arm restrained, one arm free, both legs free, his head with a hand on it, chest free, stomach free, groin unmolested. But he could definitely and distinctly feel Kurogiri’s fingers running over… something. It was ticklish like bare skin, but only his arms and head were exposed.

Concentrating on his breathing, he tried to open his eyes again. His vision still swam but it was tolerable. Slowly turning his head, Izuku looked at Kurogiri. His expression was concerned but not panicked. The hand not gently holding him down was drawing lazy patterns on the table.

It took Izuku several minutes to put together why he could feel that. His head felt like it was full of ground glass, but he remembered the quirk he was supposedly receiving. He could feel his shadow. That also explained the headache. New neural pathways were forming to receive sensory information and control his shadow.

It was interesting, to say the least. A shadow was a lack of light, for a quirk to give it form and substance was mind-boggling. Izuku tried it out.

His muscles tensed and for a frightening moment, it felt like he was back at the hospital drifting in and out of consciousness, fluid pooling in his lungs. He sat up, the room spinning. Coughing racked his body.

He heard the panic in their voices and a pained yelp from Kurogiri. He felt a prick in his arm and then nothing.

 

When he woke up again the pain had faded to a dull ache and his head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton but the dizziness had passed. Izuku let out a low moan.

“Feeling better, Stray?” Ujiko asked.

“Uh-huh.” He tried to sit up, but it was awkward with one arm strapped down. “Where’s Kurogiri?”

“He’s fine,” Ujiko said. “He’s lying down now, but nothing is broken. Just some bruising.”

“I hurt him,” he realized.

“Now, now, he’s very proud of your progress. And not just your recovery. Most people wouldn’t have been able to activate their quirk through all that pain and confusion, never mind one they just received.”

 Kurogiri’s earthy chuckle caught Izuku’s attention. “I told you, Sensei has never been wrong about a person’s value. You are meeting his expectations nicely.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. A little sore around the middle, but far too pleased to care.”

“Now that that is out of the way, wiggle your fingers,” Ujiko instructed. He made notes on a tablet as Izuku obeyed. “Toes. Arms. Legs. Turn your head. Your waist. And finally, move your shadow.”

It was like patting his head and rubbing his stomach at the same time. It felt easy to do but took far too much concentration to actually accomplish. His shadow lost its humanoid form and wriggled back and forth. Izuku collapsed back against the bed. “That’s exhausting.” He idly ran his fingers over his shadow. It was silky and fuzzy at the same time.

“Well, it is like using your legs for the first time in your life.” The doctor shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll build endurance and strength quickly.” He took Izuku’s blood pressure, temperature, and heart rate. “Cold. You’ll need to keep him warm while he recovers. And he’ll need his vitals taken at least weekly, even if he doesn’t see me. It’ll be four months before he’s completely stable, healing or no.”

Kurogiri nodded. “I will see to it.” He turned to Izuku and ordered, “I want you to rest tomorrow. Stay home from school if you can. Try to keep away from anything stressful.” As he spoke, he stroked Izuku’s shadow. The boy arched into the touch. “You must become accustomed to this being a thing before you can learn to control it.”

Izuku’s shadow was wrapped around Kurogiri’s hand. He could feel the wispy mist and warm flesh that comprised it. He could tell that his shadow was cooler than the ambient temperature of the room. It slipped around and over things with no resistance. He slowly retracted it, until it resumed its normal shape.

He was panting from the effort. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The IV was removed and his arm was freed. Izuku felt more comfortable. He gave a questioning murmur when he was taken through a portal into Kuroi Ba instead of to his apartment. He was tucked into Kurogiri’s bed and as his shoes were removed Kurogiri explained, “We called your mother to let her know you were injured during training. That you should not climb stairs for a while and that you are going back to the clinic in the morning.”

“Thanks for not making her worry,” Izuku whispered.

“You’re welcome. Are you cold, or hungry?”

“A little cold and still sleepy,” he murmured drifting off again.

Kurogiri changed into a pair of sleep pants. He took the pain meds the doctor gave him. It was difficult to tell that he was injured. It took some effort to part the mist to look at the solid form beneath, and it made him uncomfortable to do so.

Izuku shivered noticeably and Kurogiri was brought out of his musings. He crossed the room and climbed into bed with him. He tucked the boy’s head into his chest and cocooned him in his mist. Izuku’s shadow shifted and arched into the contact. It slid over the fine particles of Kurogiri’s outer body. It wrapped, at first worryingly, around his form. Soon though, it was clear that the hold was loose, slacked by sleep, as was the loop of Izuku’s arms around his neck.

“Izuku,” he whispered.

“Nuh-uh, ‘m Stray,” was murmured back sleepily. “Now, I got a proper name.”

Kurogiri chuckled. “I love you, Stray.”

“Love you, too.”

Fatigue grew in Kurogiri as he held Izuku. He slipped into a shallow sleep after pulling the covers over them to fight off a sudden chill of his own. He felt like he had overused his quirk. It was odd but not alarming. He had only warped six times and only moderate to close distances. He shouldn’t have been that tired, but maybe it was the stress of seeing Izuku in so much pain. In any case, the best thing to do was sleep it off.

Notes:

Name: Yukito Uda 'Void Step'
Kanji: 行渡 宇多
行 go, travel, conduct, line, row, 渡 cross, pass over
宇 space, universe, 多 many, numerous, much
Quirk: Portals - produces short-ranged portals that only he can travel through; while not paired per se, blue connects to orange and vice-versa.
Description: Bleached blond punk with blue and orange accessories
Affiliation: The Lucky Devils (a motorcycle gang)
Birthday: 11/28
Height: 5'10"
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Beer, cash, fighting.

Chapter 9: Getting Attached

His mom made him stay home from school, even though he had a clean bill of health and the x-rays to prove it. She fed him grilled salmon and miso soup for breakfast and then ordered him back to bed. Inko had errands to run so he would be alone until lunch, which would be a little late.

He spent the morning learning how to move his shadow. It was slow going. It was like moving his arm, but he couldn’t lift it off of a surface. The sensations of it sliding across the smooth floor or the fluffy All Might rug was almost the same as running his hand or arm over the same surface, but everything was just a little too much; too cool, too smooth, too warm, too soft, too intense. Still, it didn’t stop him from running his shadow across the floor over and over.

He could run it up walls and across the ceiling after a few hours of practice. He coiled it deliberately around his pillow and gave a squeeze. It crushed the pillow like he had wrapped both arms around it and squeezed with all his might. He took a nap after that clutching the Gang Orca plushie Kurogiri had given him.

When he woke up – stomach grumbling – Izuku staggered into the kitchen. There was a low murmur in the living room. Something about it tickled at the back of his mind until he heard a harsh cough. He stood up from rummaging in the fridge and turned to confirm his suspicions.

All Might, or rather Yagi, sat on the couch next to his mother, coughed up blood being wiped from his mouth. Izuku had a brief moment of panic where he wondered if he had lost days and it was Saturday already.

“Your mother said you’d been injured training?”

“Just a fracture,” he managed, the uneven tone could have been read as embarrassment for being caught still in his pajamas at nearly one in the afternoon. “It’s fine now.” Genuine embarrassment crept in as Izuku realized he was wearing blue sleep pants with All Might’s face on the hips and SMASH on the butt. Maybe the shirt was long enough to cover that, he thought his ears burning. “I’ll be right back.” He shut the fridge and fled the room. His shadow slipped into a limbless blob in his panic, but he was fast enough that neither adult noticed.

After changing into a t-shirt promoting Put Your Hands Up Radio, jeans, and the bracelet Kurogiri gave him, he returned to the kitchen. “Sorry about that, I didn’t even know mom was home.” He accepted the carton of takeaway she offered him. “Thanks!” Izuku sat at the dining table and dug into his meal with vigor.

“Sorry I came over unexpectedly,” Yagi said. “You weren’t reading your texts, and I figured I could drop the notes off with your mother. We just sort of got to talking.”

“It’s cool, I slept most of the day. Healing really takes it out of me, apparently,” Izuku said grinning.

“Should you be walking around?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. My trainer took me to a clinic.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The fracture had healed and Ujiko’s lab could be called a clinic, albeit a private one. Just that the two facts were unrelated kept it from being the truth. “Got it x-rayed last night and this morning. It’s like it never happened. But I was so tired.” He grinned sheepishly. “So, you have notes?”

“I know it’s getting cold but I thought we could meet up at the Dagobah Municipal Beach Park. All Might had a good idea for training, I think. The hero game should be a labor of love. Call it ‘plain’ if you like, but we won’t let the fundamentals get fuzzy. We’re going to clean up that beach,” Yagi told him.

“Okay,” Izuku agreed with a smile. And if it seemed strained it was due to fatigue and not because the smell of rusty appliances combined with the sea air reminded him of blood and vomit. “But I’m bringing Kacchan. I think he would benefit from the experience.”

 

Hunkered down in his bright yellow sleeping bag, Shota sighed. He was stuck listening to his coworkers butcher song after song in the private karaoke room they had chosen for this week’s Saturday dinner. Matsushita and Hizashi were the only decent singers, to begin with, and they were both three beers in and trying to duet a country-fried rock song. He nibbled the mixed tempura he’d ordered and tried not to draw attention to himself.

Alas, it was not to be. The duet ended and Kayama shouted, “Hey, Shota hasn’t had a turn!”

The others chuckled and encouraged him to pick a song. Nemuri’s date stayed blessedly silent; maybe there was hope for the idiot yet.

“No.”

“Come on, Sho, I know the perfect song.” Hizashi punched the selection into the karaoke machine.

“No.”

“Please, babe.” Hizashi cajoled Shota onto the tiny stage, still in his sleeping bag.

“No.”

He sighed as he stepped up to the microphone and glanced at the song his husband had picked out. he grinned widely and hit play. His coworkers cheered at The first few notes of Great Balls Of Fire. “I’m sleep-deprived and I’m always in pain. How will I ever learn to be sane? Are you for real? Where’s the Advil? Goodness, gracious, I need a nap~.” He fell forward with a thud and inch-wormed his way back to his spot by the door as the short song finished playing.

 

True to his word, Kurogiri took Izuku’s vitals as soon as he arrived. He texted the results to Ujiko. Satisfied the doctor approved him for light activity.

After a few hours of training with Kurogiri, Izuku had almost as much control over his shadow as he did the rest of his body. It could stretch to twice its length without much effort, and up to four times if he really pushed it. The more it stretched the thinner it got. The thinner it was the weaker it was.

While Kurogiri never quite felt solid, Izuku was made even more keenly aware of the fact as he powered out of the phantom grip, over and over. The stretch and pull of his shadow, like taffy, sent little stabs of icy pain down his spine and a sensation like fabric ripping floated nebulously in the new area of perception. When the pressure was let off, it burned where his shadow had been distended.

As they were putting away the mats, Izuku decided to tell him about his training with All Might. “Hey, so every week, well most weeks on Saturday or the occasional Monday, I’m going to be cleaning up the beach near my place.” He found the next part stuck in his throat. With All Might.

Inhale. Exhale. It was easy. He just had to say it. Why is this so hard. Izuku tried to even out his breathing. It wasn’t even valuable information. He didn’t have to tell them. If he could just get control of his breathing. He didn’t really want to tell them. But they were doing so much for him, and he did nothing in return. He wanted to be helpful, even though he knew they were bad people who did bad things.

“Is something the matter, Stray?” Kurogiri asked. He reached out to take a gentle hold on the boy’s wrist. He rubbed the jute rope there with his thumb. The undyed rope around his wrist stood out as starkly as a crisp white shirt cuff would.

“I… well, that is,” he tried to just say it. All Might is training me. But he couldn’t. And now he couldn’t just say it was nothing. “So, um, what actual villain stuff do you do?” he asked instead.

“We mostly operate behind the scenes. We introduce people and enforce agreements. We distribute support gear and street drugs for the doctor. And, of course, Sensei sells his services.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” the boy muttered his thumb pressed to his lips. “But, well, what kind of drugs?”

“Trigger derivatives and a few club drugs. We’re looking to edge out the foreign suppliers.”

“Trigger?”

“A quirk enhancer; not very addicting, physically.” Kurogiri paused, seeming to realize where this was going. “We do occasionally kill people.”

“But not civilians, right?” Izuku asked.

“Well, we have taken out a couple of government officials, but they were doing business with us.” He made a so-so gesture with his hand. “But we do tend to leave the common folk out of it.”

After a moment, just before Izuku started to speak, Tomura said, “We’re going to kill All Might.”

He laughed. “Why? What does that accomplish?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s so high profile, but it just gets rid of one guy,” Izuku explained. “I mean if it’s a personal reason like some kind of revenge, I’d understand that. Otherwise... Look, You’ve heard the phrase ‘nature abhors a vacuum’. If All Might dies, he’ll be a martyr and Endeavor will step up to replace him, at least temporarily. You’ll have changed the players, but not the game. Then a new raising star will graduate from Yuuei and be ‘the next All Might’; the new symbol of peace. Not just a symbol, but a legacy.”

“There would be at least some social upheaval,” Kurogiri countered.

“The same you could get out of a bit of terrorism. And you can’t predict the public’s response to that fear. They could be shaken for a while then heal normally. They could accept a police state with open arms as long as it means they’re safe. They could calmly wait out the inevitable uptick in crime while complaining that heroes these days are just lazy,” Izuku replied. “If you want to destroy the ‘Symbol of Peace’ you need to show people that he’s human. Just like the rest of us. That he’s weak, vulnerable, fallible. That he doesn’t deserve to be put on a pedestal. But you have to destroy the pedestal at the same time. Or the next in line steps in, same as killing him. The very idea of putting that much weight on, that much trust in one person has to be repulsive to the public. That’s a goal I could get behind.”

“I thought you liked hero culture,” Tomura said, his voice just a little raspier than usual.

“I do. But I know it’s not without its problems. There is so much pressure on them to perform that some of them forget what real heroism is. And the public largely sees heroes as entertainers now; like rock stars and athletes. And everyone is so distracted by the flashy displays of powerful quirks that they don’t see how it’s rotting our society.”

Tomura laughed. “Let’s call Giran. A villain speech is always so much more impressive in full costume.”

It didn’t take long for the broker to arrive. He looked like any older businessman after a few drinks, but with a gold chain and a missing front tooth. His smile and goatee made him seem like the kind of guy who had ‘hits on waitresses’ as a personality trait. “Well, this is the recruit I’ve been hearing about. What did you have in mind?” he set his briefcase on the bar and began taking Izuku’s measurements.

“It needs to be discrete enough that he could walk around in public without many changes,” Kurogiri insisted. “But he will also need something to cover his face and hair.”

“Yeah, those freckles are pretty distinctive. I’ve got a good temporary die for the hair, though.”

“Can you get him some realistic cat ears?” Tomura asked, grinning behind the hand on his face.

“Sure. You want them to do anything in particular?”

“No, just leaning into a theme.”

“Could you reinforce certain areas?” the boy asked.

“Ah, you’re the sensible one. Every group has gotta have one. Yeah, I can do that.” Giran pulled a sheet out that had the outline of a person on it. “Just mark it on here.”

“I think we’ll leave the flare up to you on this first one,” Tomura said. “Just make sure he goes with my color scheme.”

“Black with a splash of red and brass hardware?”

“Do silver or chrome for his hardware.”

“Not a problem,” Giran told him. “I think I can have a prototype ready in a few days. This is a simple order. Might throw in some bells and whistles to earn my fee. We’ll see.”

 

The sand hissed over the sidewalk as they approached the beach. It was an odd sensation across his shadow; coarse and irritating but it flowed over and through him. It was at least a very grounding sensation. Izuku pulled the scarf he had borrowed from his mother over his mouth and nose. It smelled like cinnamon and blocked out the scent of rust, salt, and rot. The knot of anxiety in his stomach loosened as he listened to Katsuki’s grumbling about the biting wind and the early morning.

All Might was already waiting for them in a heavy coat and a thick scarf. He greeted them jovially, “Glad you could both make it, young Bakugo, Midoriya my boy.”

Katsuki just tisked in response, but when Izuku chuckled and teased, “Tsundere,” he blushed. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“Strength training and civic pride,” All Might replied. He gestured to the trash-filled beach. “We’re going to clear this pile next to the peer; for starters.”

Both boys were surprisingly strong; each could lift two hundred pounds safely. While there was too much for even All Might to make short work of it, the three set a brisk pace.

All Might dragged an old refrigerator to the base of the stairs, for the boys to fill with smaller scraps of metal. The pair ran up the stairs with toasters and microwaves or worked together to haul up an oven or washer. When a section near the stairs had been cleared, they would hop the rail partway down to save time, but All Might still called out, “I want to see you hustle, slowpokes!”

In the three hours All Might had set aside that day, they had cleared a wide path to the water. “Good work, boys! I have to leave now, but if you’d like to keep going, I can send my assistant by with lunches.”

“You don’t have to,” Katsuki said, looking away from the hero.

“That would be great,” Izuku replied. “I could do this all day and Kacchan would destroy himself trying to keep up with me.”

“I can do –”

“See? He forgets that my quirk means I heal the muscle damage during a short break.” He grinned. “Will you let Yagi-san know that Kacchan likes spicy food?”

All Might chuckled and agreed to pass the information on. He hustled up the stairs, light curls of steam already beginning to waft off of him.

 

The little red dot zipped back and forth across the living room floor as the orange and white cat chased it. Shota was lying on the bare red mahogany floor, a faint smile on his lips, and the long-haired cat slept on his chest.

“I was thinking of revamping the entrance exam.” Nezu flicked the laser pointer to lead the cat up the cat ladder.

“So I heard. I don’t know what you could do to improve the written.”

“But you could think of a few things to improve the practical? I’d like to hear them.”

“It’s not much really. It wouldn’t look any different from the student’s perspective, but I'd give more weight to the rescue points.”

“I was thinking about that as well. Additionally, we should screen with more of an eye toward natural cooperation.”

“Maybe give bonus points for any kind of team-up behavior.”

Nezu nodded. “As for the written, I’m going to add a few questions and an essay on the importance of teamwork.”

“I still feel like I failed them.”

“Yuuei produces the best heroes because we expect more of our students. Because we expect more of our students, I expect more of my staff. I do not think you failed. You set a reasonable and objective benchmark. You do not control the provisional licensing exam. The hero commission thought they lacked potential as well.”

“I just. Isn’t it our job to make them heroes? Was I too harsh? Could they have succeeded with a better teacher?”

“Passed perhaps, but not succeeded.”

“What’s the difference?” He propped himself up on his elbows, at the risk of waking the cat, to look Nezu in the eyes.

“Yuuei students have the highest rate of retirement amongst pro heroes. Our students are less likely to die or be grievously injured. That’s success.”

Shota stared at him for a long time, absorbing his words.

“Ask Mitsuno, Dokujima, and Matsushita how many of their former students are still alive, and how many they feel they’ve failed.”  He flicked the laser pointer over Shota, sending the orange tabby zooming across his stomach.

“Nezu!”

 

Izuku stepped out of the bathroom with the full costume on. Outwardly, he almost looked like a street punk trolling for trouble. He was clad in black jeans, a form-fitting short-sleeve shirt, a leather half jacket, and a cloth facemask with a very toothy grin on it. Black hair dye, cat eye contacts, and cat ears that were fitted over his own ears made him look like a completely different person.

However, the best parts of the suit were all hidden. The red calf-high boots had a metal cap on the toe sculpted to resemble a cat’s foot and a hidden shin guard. The kneepads and elbow pads had metal caps but also had room to house a small knife or thumb drive. The red leather belt was reversible and had two rows of metal holes, to easily clip things to. The bell on the matching collar was a flash-bang grenade. The gloves had caps on the knuckles and climbing claws. The ears and mask were wired for communication, including deepening his voice slightly. And under everything was a bodysuit with the reinforcements he’d asked for.

“Beautiful,” Giran said. “Everything fit good?”

“Yeah,” Izuku said. “I had a little trouble with the contacts, but I think it’s just a learning curve. The mask will take a little getting used to; I can feel my breath on my cheeks. But it fits right.”

“Good, good. Any complaints?” he asked, turning to Tomura.

“No, he looks fine. If anything’s not working we’ll let you know.” He turned to Izuku. “Stray, come with me. It’s time you learned the ropes.”

Kurogiri paid Giran and opened a portal into a warehouse. Ten or so young men and teens were sitting around on crates or working on motorcycles. Everyone jumped up, ready to throw down as the portal closed. Izuku recognized Void Step among their ranks.

“You lot have fucked up royally,” Tomura began, walking to the center of the room. Izuku stayed at his side. “But I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. You’re just a bunch of scared kids afraid of what we’ll do to you for failing, and not a bunch of double-crossing thieves.”

“Mother fucker, don’t come into my house disrespectin’ –” A man that appeared to be in his late twenties approached them with a wrench.

When Izuku strode forward to meet him, Tomura laughed. “It’s alright, Stray. Hayakazu is all talk. He doesn’t have the guts to go against us. Otherwise, he’d use his quirk and not threaten me with a –”

The bits of broken glass strewn around the building began to swirl like leaves dancing in the wind. “Is that so?” He swung the wrench at Izuku.

The boy sidestepped the blow and turned the momentum into a roundhouse kick. Coming back to his fighting stance, Izuku pressed his advantage and stepped into the man’s space. He grabbed the hand holding the wrench and struck the man’s chin with his palm. Izuku’s climbing claws bit into the man’s flesh. The wrench clattered to the ground. The glass shards whipped past him, cutting Izuku’s face. He flinched and released the man.

“Stray!” Tomura snapped. Izuku risked a glance back at him. There was blood on his cheek just under the thumb of his mask.

Instantly the man was pulled to the ground with a yelp. The glass fell. It disgusted Izuku to feel the solid warmth of him cocooned in his shadow. The floor was rough against the smooth and fuzzy slide of his shadow as he dragged him over to Tomura’s feet. The man tried to say something – I can’t breathe – but Izuku didn’t care.

He held him still, as Tomura said, “Now you’re not allowed to have nice things.” He stepped over to the bike the guy had been working on and pressed both hands flat against it. It disintegrated completely. “You’re young. You’ll learn to uphold your end if you live that long. I’m coming back in a week. Have the product or something better by then. Understood?”

Void spoke up, “Yeah, we read you loud and clear.”

Kurogiri opened a portal and Tomura walked through. Izuku gave the man a harsh squeeze before releasing him and following.

“You did good,” Tomura said, reaching over to pat – carefully leaving his middle finger raised – Izuku’s head as he sat down.

“Thanks. I should have opened with that, though. Then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“It’s just a scratch,” Tomura dismissed and Kurogiri made sure there were no glass shards in the cut. “And I did antagonize him on purpose.”

“Your training is paying off,” Kurogiri said as he cleaned and dressed the little cuts on both young men. “Your palm strike was textbook. You’ve made such wonderful progress; I would like to treat you.” He moved around the bar to put the first aid supplies away. “How about we go out and –”

Izuku put his fists onto the bar top, to not scratch it with his claws, and leaned up to place a gentle kiss on Kurogiri’s lips. Despite his face being shrouded in black mist, Izuku found it easy to navigate. The high metal collar Kurogiri wore was there to protect his head. The smooth chill of it against his cheeks was dulled by the black cotton that separated them. All the same, a warm thrill ran through him. “Every time I do something bad I feel powerful and every time you praise me I want to kiss you.”

Kurogiri shuddered; his mist wavered as though caught in a draft. “I. Well, then. Did I mention that the roundhouse kick was very nicely done; a good way to remove his reach advantage.”

Izuku kissed him again, just as chaste as the first. “I’m cleaning the beach with All Might,” he heard himself say.

“Oh?” Kurogiri murmured against his lips. “Try not to get too attached to him.”

“I think he’s dying,” he confessed.

“That’ll be fun,” Tomura said. “Unless you’ve got more wonderful news you can both just, go somewhere else.”

Izuku smirked and leaned toward him. “Jealous?”

The snapped ‘no’ was halfway out of his mouth when he thought better of it. Instead, Tomura said, “Maybe,” and pulled the hand from his face. He mimicked Izuku’s pose and leaned toward Kurogiri. A hair’s breadth from them, Tomura whispered, “In your dreams.”

Kurogiri let out a relieved sigh and replied, “Only my darkest nightmares.” He returned his attention to Izuku. “Would you like to go out? We could go to the autumn festival at Senzoku-Ike.”

“I’d like that a lot.” Izuku turned to Tomura, who had settled back in his seat. “Um, does the PDA gross you out, or do you disapprove because…”

“Because you’re both male? Because he’s old enough to be your father?” Tomura supplied. “No, I don’t give a shit I just like teasing you both, perverts, but if anybody else gives you shit, kill ’em. Go, have sex, or be weird and don’t. I’ll make fun of you either way.”

“Thanks, Tomura-kun.”

 

Izuku was glad for the facemask as they made their way into more crowded areas. The sensory input was almost overwhelming as his shadow slid over countless people: Slick plastic, cool metal, rough denim, soft skin, fluffy scarves, silky hair, warm cups, flaking leather, greasy food, and damp grass. The rapid shift of sensations gave him vertigo. 

Kurogiri pulled him off to the side. They sat on a park bench while Izuku struggled to breathe. Izuku could feel smooth wood, damp earth, crisp leaves, and Kurogiri’s soft, warm, almost not corporeal presence. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Kurogiri reassured him, caressing his wrists. The jute bracelet against his skin was as grounding a presence as Kurogiri himself. “I should have realized that this would be overwhelming.”

“You had no way of knowing.” Izuku felt his heart rate dropping back to normal. “Okay, I think I’m ready to try again.”

“If it gets to be too much, tuck your shadow close to you,” Kurogiri instructed as they stood.

Their first stop at the festival was a stall selling cheap, plastic masks. Izuku – his jeans over his boots, and in a looser t-shirt – got a kitsune mask to wear on the side of his head, while Kurogiri – in a long coat, light scarf, dark wig, and gloves – wavered between a tengu and a stylized rabbit.

“Just get the bunny. It’s cute and you know you want it,” Izuku prompted. “Besides, we’ll kind of match.”

That settled it for the older man. He bought the rabbit mask and secured it over his face. “What would you like to do now?” he asked pulling Izuku in to walk with him tucked under his arm.

He snuggled against Kurogiri as he thought. “Let’s just wander around for a bit.”

They were stared at a fair bit more than on their last date, but generally, Izuku dragging Kurogiri over to a food or game stall to excitedly gush about it was enough to send onlookers merrily on their way.

Until it wasn’t. A pro hero, Diamond Eye, and her sidekick, Gemcutter, approached them.

“Oh my god!” Izuku gushed turning to Kurogiri. “Onii-san, it’s Gemcutter! Do you think he’d give me his autograph?”

“The only way to find out is to ask,” he replied uncomfortably.

Izuku extracted himself from Kurogiri’s side and stepped toward them. He fished a marker and a small notebook out of his jacket. “Would you mind, sighing this, Gemcutter?”

The young hero blushed. “Wouldn’t you rather have Dia’s?”

“Uh, I mean she can sign too if she wants,” he said. “I just think your quirk is awesome. Are you just out on patrol, or will you be doing a demonstration? ‘Coz I would totally see that, despite the chill.”

“Show’s in an hour, but I’m patrolling until then.” Gemcutter laughed and took the notebook. He signed it, For a true fan, and passed it to Diamond Eye. She gave it back without signing. Izuku’s smile didn’t falter, obvious even under his plain white medical mask. “Anyway, we just need to see your IDs. Some folks were, a bit concerned.” Gemcutter rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh. Oh no, I don’t have my wallet!” He gave a panicked look to Kurogiri. Then he turned back to Gemcutter. “Wait, why were they concerned?”

Diamond Eye cut in, “You were hanging off of him like a rent boy and he’s at least twice your age.”

Izuku sputtered. “Rent boy!? Do I really look like a prostitute in this?” He faked a coughing fit. Short and harsh, but not overdone. “You should have said something, onii-san!”  He turned back to Gemcutter, who offered him a cough drop. Izuku took it and smiled at him as he pulled his mask up to pop it in his mouth. “Thank you. My girlfriend picked this outfit out for me. I really like the jacket, but I thought the choker was a bit much. It is isn’t it?” He reached up and unhooked it when Gemcutter nodded. Shoving it in his pocket, he continued, “She couldn’t make it ‘coz she’s sick. But onii-san agreed to come with me. I got lost at a festival once when I was little, so now they intimidate me a bit if I’m on my own.”

“Well, you seem a little under the weather yourself,” Gemcutter offered. “Maybe you should take it easy. And skip the shaved ice.”

“I guess,” he sounded genuinely disappointed. He turned to Kurogiri. “Can we at least stay for the show?” When Kurogiri nodded, Izuku tossed his hands in the air. “Yay! Until then can we play some games? I saw a shooting gallery and super ball scoop.” The mischievous glint in his eyes was not lost on the heroes as he said the last part, tucking himself back under Kurogiri’s arm.

Gemcutter laughed, “Don’t get into too much trouble,” and Diamond Eye tisked as she stalked away.

Kurogiri kept an eye on them until he was sure they weren’t being watched; which meant that he missed Izuku’s first round at the super ball scoop. He did see the boy stuffing his selected prizes, four large hero-themed balls into his pocket.

“You’re good at that.”

“Yeah, see anything you like?”

He pointed to a small koi-shaped paper lantern that came with an LED tea light.

Izuku nodded and took off his jacket. “Alright.” He handed the fee over for a new Poi.

Kurogiri realized that it was actually a difficult prize to win. “If it’s too much bother –”

“Hush, I’m concentrating.” Izuku’s hand was slow and steady as he scooped the small rubber balls into the bowl. There were larger balls that counted as four, according to the sign, and on each of his first three scoops, Izuku got one. After that the poi was torn, so he scooped fewer for the remaining two swipes. Then the poi was completely destroyed. The vendor counted the balls. He was just shy of the lantern. “What if I gave back one of the bouncy balls?”

The vendor shook his head. “You’re only two short, and winners drum up more players. Here, kid.”

“Thank you very much!” Izuku took it and bowed. He put his jacket back on and they made their way to the shooting gallery.

“It was clever of you to snub Diamond Eye like that,” Kurogiri commented.

Izuku looked sheepish. “Actually I didn’t mean to do that, she’s just not that interesting. I was going for over-sharing like you did in the sports shop.”

“Oh. So what’s so interesting about Gemcutter?”

“the crystal-like growths on the backs of his hands allow him to refract light into short-beamed lasers.  His precision with them is amazing, especially considering that they’re invisible.”

“And Diamond Eye?”

“Well, in addition to that personality, she just has eye lasers. Oh, and she can’t be blinded by bright lights.”

“Doesn’t she also refract light?”

“Yeah, the more intense the light directed into her eyes the more intense her lasers, but she won’t use support gear to take advantage. She just refuses to work at night, and isn’t as effective for half the year.” Izuku’s eyes lit up when they got to the gallery. Among the prizes was a Wild, Wild Pussy Cats sheet set. “Oh my god. Are you any good at this one?”

“We’ll see.” Kurogiri paid for a shot and picked up the toy rifle. He took a breath, shifted his stance, and exhaled slowly. The cork impacted the plastic wrapper of the sheet set with a little thud. Kurogiri set the rifle down and looked at Izuku. Although his face was hidden behind a mask, the boy was sure he looked smug. “Anything else you want from here?”

“No, that’s good,” he replied as the prize was handed over. “Do you want something to eat? I’m kinda hungry.”

They ended up sharing food from several stands. Izuku’s heart soared at the closeness of offering each other a bite. The simple intimacy of walking together in the crowd, knowing that neither of them belonged there, made his heart flutter. It should have felt stifling and isolating but it felt warm and inviting. Izuku enjoyed being with Kurogiri.

“Have you tried this?” Kurogiri offered him a bite of yakitori.

“It’s so good! Try this.”

Kurogiri gave a hum of approval as he chewed the bite of fried chicken. “This is even better.”

“We need to get to Gemcutter’s show soon,” Izuku said. “Let’s grab dessert since we’re skipping the shaved ice.”

“We should get something to take back to Tomura, too,” Kurogiri replied.

Izuku got himself a crepe and grabbed a bag of baby kasutera to take home. Kurogiri grabbed a red bean paste taiyaki and a candied strawberry to share.

They were early enough to get good seats. Gemcutter waved at them as he mounted the stage. Most of his show was a safety lecture combined with a geology lesson but the fun part was him carving blocks of ice into statues. The first thing he did was have a kid hold a four-inch cube of ice up while he divided it into two parts: a snow cone for the kid, and a perfect sphere he casually tossed to the father with a wink. The last thing he did was carve a large block of ice into a replica of one of the children. The audience burst into applause.

The pair hung back a bit to let the crowd thin out before leaving. They took their time, even stopping and grabbing a candied apple before heading out of the park. They passed the apple back and forth for several blocks before Kurogiri was sure they weren’t being followed and they ducked into an alley to gate home.

Notes:

Mitsuno and Dokujima are the names I'm giving to the blond in the purple visor and the pink-haired guy in the gas mask we see when the teachers show up at the USJ and in the teacher's box at the sports festival. (I headcanon that they are the second years' teachers)

Name: Terunnao Maretama 'Gemcutter'
Kanji: 光直 稀玉
光light, radiance, 直 straight, direct, honest
稀 rare, unusual, uncommon, 玉 ball, sphere, jewel, gem
Quirk: Cutting Laser - produces short beam lasers out of crystalline growths
Description: a calm and down-to-earth hero with short blue hair and bright yellow eyes
Affiliation: Hero
Birthday: 6/6
Height: 5'10
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Museums, listening to music, and amusement parks. Dislikes snow and thunderstorms.

Chapter 10: Sweet and Spicy

Izuku’s face was hot as he read the first book in his new library. BDSM 101 was an overview, including chapters on safety, consent, and terminology. The pictures were all very tasteful, and just on the wrong side of risqué. Sitting on Kurogiri’s bed, between his knees made the experience all the more erotic for the boy.

Kurogiri’s strong hands worked at the tension in his shoulders. His shadow curled around his partner, subconsciously pulling him closer. Izuku both blessed and cursed the loose-fitting sleep pants. He ached from the idea of it all and shifted seeking friction where none existed.

Chuckling, Kurogiri asked him, “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

“No. God no. I don’t think I could read this without you.” Izuku scooched back to press against him. “Is it weird that it’s easier with you here?”

“Sexuality is a deeply personal thing; as such there are very few wrong answers.”

“Would you touch me?”

“Aren’t I all ready?” he asked teasingly.

“I mean…” The boy took his hand and pulled it to his crotch, “here.”

Kurogiri took his hand away. “I will do anything you want; if you can ask me properly.”

Izuku groaned and rubbed his face against Kurogiri’s bare chest. “Kurogiri, please.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I… I can’t,” he whined.

“Then you’ll have to wait until you can,” Kurogiri said rubbing his chest. His nails occasionally scrapped the boy’s nipples eliciting tiny gasps.

“You know what I want,” Izuku protested.

“But I refuse to let you get into the habit of not communicating properly,” he retorted, tapping the page Izuku was currently on.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I love it when you blush.”

“Kiss me?” he asked instead.

Kurogiri leaned down and captured his waiting lips. His hand came up to grip Izuku’s jaw. Immediately, he knew this was different from the soft, cotton-separated kisses that the two shared before. Where he had imagined those to be intimate, this was so much more. The warmth of Kurogiri’s lips against his own. The not-wet-but-not-dusty tickle of his mist pulled into Izuku’s lungs with each breath.

His lips parted, inviting Kurogiri in. He wanted more, but at the same time feared it. Slow was good, and kissing was perfect. I promise to wait. Kurogiri’s tongue dipped in, sliding against his own, and was gone again before he could quite make out the taste of it. Izuku groaned at the loss.

“Read,” Kurogiri instructed, releasing his jaw.

“More?” he asked wiggling in what he hoped was a tantalizing way.

“Read, out loud.”

The flush on Izuku’s face blossomed into a deep shade of red. Kurogiri took hold of his hair as he floundered for words and tilted his head back. He slowly and deliberately placed kisses on Izuku’s freckles.

“So beautiful. I hope you never stop blushing for me.”

He whined and strained to meet Kurogiri’s lips, but his grip was firm.

“Ask.”

“Please kiss me.”

“Is that how you ask?” he chided.

The boy huffed. “Will you please kiss me?”

Kurogiri placed a single kiss on the tip of his nose. He used his grip to turn Izuku back to the book. “Read.”

“Simply put, bondage is the consensual tying, binding, or restraining of your partner.” He gasped when Kurogiri’s lips brushed his neck. “The purpose of the bindings can be to look nice, create sensations in the body, to be erotic, or some combination of all three.” Each sentence was interrupted by a little gasp or moan as Kurogiri nipped, licked, or sucked on Izuku’s neck, jaw, and ear. He changed sides with each new paragraph.

Izuku set the book down when he reached the end of the chapter.

“Do you need a rest, love?” Kurogiri asked.

“I need more, or to stop,” he gasped.

“Then we stop.”

Izuku whined but he slid to the edge of the bed. “I trust you. To, to know what I want. To guide me to things I don’t know about yet. If you want to keep going…”

“I’m honestly afraid of not knowing what you want. You crave in a way I just don’t. It’s like asking someone to guess the right amount of butter for your popcorn when the closest they get to wanting popcorn is liking salty foods.” Kurogiri looked away from him. “I like sex aesthetically. I’m perfectly happy just kissing. I won’t play guessing games. You will tell me what you want, what you are comfortable with. If you can’t ask for it then you clearly aren’t comfortable with it.”

Izuku shifted to his knees and crawled back to Kurogiri. He reached out and cupped his jaw, lifting his head. “I’m sorry. Please, please don’t ever be ashamed to have boundaries. We should have talked first. This is an important conversation, and you’re right.” He hugged Kurogiri, resting his head on his shoulder. “I’m not properly comfortable with … the next step, stage. Whatever.” The boy blushed.

Kurogiri chuckled. “Stray-kun. You look so beautiful like this.” His arms encircled Izuku. “Sleep with me again?”

“Yeah. I just, I’ll be a minute in the bathroom.” He pulled away and stood up.

“Take your time. Use the shower, it’s fantastic.”

Izuku’s blush deepened. “I, uh, I’ll keep that in mind.” He quickly found a pair of sleep pants and a clean tee shirt in the drawer.

When it took Izuku longer than usual to change Kurogiri knew he had taken his advice. He similarly amused himself while thinking about how the boy might be experimenting with the various shower features. Knowing teenagers in general, he did not draw it out and was lounging with a good book when a beautifully damp Izuku returned. He crawled up to him on the bed and gave a slow, exploring kiss; wanting to memorize the taste he had been teased with earlier.

“I love you,” Kurogiri told him, breaking apart.

“Love you, too,” Izuku replied sleepily in the comforting warmth of mist and shadow mingling in a cocoon.

 

“Come on, you slowpokes,” All Might called, easily jogging ahead of them in the sand.

Bakugo growled. Izuku pushed harder, straining and willing himself to move faster. He tripped over a piece of trash at a dead run and was sent skidding over the sand.

All Might stopped and doubled back to help him up, but he staggered to his feet and kept running. “Hey, hey. Take a second, that was a nasty fall.”

Bakugo had stopped and was stooped over with his hands on his knees. Izuku could hear him gasping for breath.

“I’m fine. I can keep going.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a scratch,” he wheezed.

“Nothing on this beach is just a scratch. We need to get that disinfected. Bakugo, take a break!”

Bakugo raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up; until his back was turned and he flipped All Might off. The boy collapsed onto the sand.

All Might led Izuku up to the truck and fished the first aid kit out from under the seat. “I know you two can do better than this. Is something bothering you?”

He shook his head, still winded. “No. Maybe we’re just tired? I don’t know. I’ll try harder. I know Kacchan is giving his all. He doesn’t half-ass things.”

All Might hummed as he brushed sand, glass, and rust out of Izuku’s scrapes. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to train…”

“It’s fine, really. I heal so quickly that it doesn’t matter, and Kacchan is a lot more coordinated than I am. We’ve got maybe another half hour before you have to go. Please, we can get this right. I know we can!”

All Might smiled warmly at him. “Alright. This’ll sting.” He cleaned the scrapes with disinfectant and smeared antibiotic ointment on them. Izuku didn’t make any noise or complaint at all. “Regular band-aids or Hello Kitty?”

“Hello Kitty, but could you tell Kacchan they were the only ones you had?”

He chuckled. “Sure thing.”

 

Every November Izuku and his mother went to the tezukuri ichi flea market held at the small temple they attended on holidays. They didn’t often buy things at the hand-made market, but they always had a budget set aside for it.

This year, Inko was looking for a new pouch to go with her kimono. While she looked through the silk pouches, Izuku wandered around. He picked out a few good luck charms: one for study to put above his desk, one for fortune to put in his backpack, and a pair – soft pink and pale blue – for his and Kurogiri’s love.

“Izu-kun!”

“I’m here!” he called back jogging over to her, stuffing the couple’s charms into his pocket.

“This one is so cute, but this one matches better. Which do you think I should get?”

“The cute one is cheaper, and then you can get this coin purse as a gift for Auntie Mitsuki.”

“Ah, such a frugal, and thoughtful, young man you’ve raised, Inko-san,” the elderly woman running the stall said.

“Thank you, Ito-san,” she replied as she handed over the money for the two fish-shaped pouches.

 

When Izuku arrived at Kuroi ba that night, he slid the blue charm across the bar to Kurogiri as he grabbed his costume. Kurogiri and Tomura said, “Cute,” at the same time but in such vastly different tones, that he chuckled to himself on the way to change.

As he stretched for training, Izuku told Kurogiri, “I need to move faster.”

“Always a solid plan, but why?”

“All Might keeps calling me and Kacchan slowpokes. We’re just doing strength training with him, so how can we get faster?”

“Are you doing your wall sprints? And you are upping the resistance bands? Cone drills? Sprints? Polymeric exercises?” Kurogiri rattled off a short list of drills. Izuku nodded for each one. “Working out in the sand will also help. Perhaps your speed is increasing but he is only looking at the target speed and not the improvements.”

“Oh, that could be it, he did say he’s never mentored anyone before,” he replied, honestly relieved. “I’ll have to let him know before Kacchan loses it.”

“If you are still worried about your speed I could take you up on the rooftops for some parkour. It’s a clear night,” Kurogiri offered.

“Sounds good.”

With that, they warped to the roof. “We will play a simple game of follow the leader. If we complete the circuit and return here in ten minutes I will reward you.”

“With what?”

“Hmm. It is getting colder, perhaps a hoodie.” Kurogiri opened a gate and stepped through. “The Fat Gum hoodie is fairly iconic. Selkie’s stuff is pretty cute though.”

Izuku scanned the rooftops to locate him. As soon as he spotted the man, two buildings away, he was off. The tallest building on the block topped out at three stories, and he had been unfazed by a one-story drop before his training. He dropped from Kuroi Ba’s roof to the ledge of the balcony and ran along the top of the wide railing.

The first real obstacle was the ten-foot gap between the bar and the next building. His heart raced for a moment. His vision was blocked by phantom tree limbs. Pain and cold.

He stumbled. He turned it into a roll. The roof’s gravel bit into his back dully, grounding him to the present. The unpleasant odor of a freshly tarred roof filled his nose. While the night air was chilly and the sky black, it was not dark or cold. Izuku righted himself and leaped into the void.

It was an easy jump for him and he hit the roof running. He vaulted over an air duck and up onto the stair access. The added height let him dive and roll onto the next roof across a much wider gap. He wasn’t even winded when he came to a stop at Kurogiri’s feet.

The edge of the warp gate brushed his arm as Kurogiri took a picture of the bright smiling face laid out before him. As Kurogiri stepped through the gate, Izuku kipped up. He was pretty sure that the course was just going to be a circle of the block, so he started planning ahead.

He chased his mentor, a wide grin plastered on his face, across the dozen rooftops; weaving up, over, under, around, and through the various obstacles. He ran across pipes, ledges, and railings, vaulted fences and air ducts, scaled walls and scaffolding, and soared over gaps headless of gravity.

Kurogiri ended the run by leading Izuku down to street level and making him scale the full three stories of Kuroi ba. The determined boy managed to bounce between the two buildings after hauling himself onto a dumpster. Then he had to climb the generic ‘bar’ and ‘mahjong’ signs on the front to get the rest of the way. He was panting as he pulled himself onto the roof and jogged to Kurogiri.

“Excellent.”

 

Shota walked with his arm linked with Hizashi. The other man rested his head on Shota’s shoulder as they strolled through the park observing the vibrantly colored leaves. He took every opportunity to kiss the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“Getting cold, Sho?”

“Quite the opposite,” he replied with a chuckle.

“You have to wait, babe. We haven’t even got to the café yet.”

“You are such a tease.”

“Oh, I’ll do more than tease, birthday boy.”

“Eraserhead!”

The familiar shout caused the pair to jolt and step apart. Ms. Joke waved at them from across the street. Shota’s face became a mask of disgust.

“Hey, Joke,” Hizashi called back, too loud and too cheerful.

“What are you two up to?” she asked jogging over to them.

“We’re headed to Hopper’s Café, then we’re going to the Mori Art Museum. We’re going to meet Midnight for dinner and discuss the new pop art exhibit and what it means for next year’s curriculum,” he said easily, peppering in enough truth to obfuscate the lies. “What about you?”

“Nothing much. Isn’t that exhibit a bit, eh, inappropriate for students?”

“Don’t know, haven’t seen it yet,” Shota said brusquely.

“What’s inappropriate about heroes in their costumes and support gear?” Hizashi asked, feigning ignorance.

“Well, they’re very sexualized,” she explained.

“I hope that doesn’t diminish the inherent social commentary on the commoditization of heroes,” Shota said seriously.

Hizashi nodded. “I hope the lack of popular heroes like All Might and Endeavor doesn’t diminish the students’ interest, assuming it’s not too lewd.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard that the works are all of heroes that were killed in the line,” Shota agreed. “What was the other big draw? I haven’t looked into it much; it’s not really to my tastes.”

Ms. Joke seemed to squirm a little, before saying, “They were specifically targeted.”

“Ah. Well, maybe we’ll see what they had in common that might provoke that. Risqué costumes, perhaps?”

“That would make sense if the exhibit is considered inappropriate for high school students,” Hizashi said, checking the wide leather bracelet he always wore as if it were a watch.

“I’m sure there will be some pieces Midnight can use as examples, though,” Shota replied with a knowing smirk.

“We should get going, they’ll give away our table.” The pair turned, linking arms again, to start strolling towards the café.

“Oh, Eraser, before you go, I should warn you. That artist has a reputation for making homoerotic art. If you and Mic go together, people might get the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea?” he asked innocently, turning himself and Hizashi back around.

“You know, that you and Mic are… together.”

The pair stared at her with as blank of expressions as they could muster. The wide grin that Hizashi could not suppress could be attributed to his upbeat personality. The one threatening Shota’s lips, however…

“Together?” he asked, more to give his mouth something to do. “Well yeah, we said we were going together. How would that be the wrong idea?”

“Together, as in a couple.”

“Couple? A couple of best friends, am I right? Lifelong companions right here. Roommates even.”

Shota did finally let the manic grin split his face. Part of him wanted her to realize they were messing with her and leave them alone. But he had to admit he enjoyed it just as much as Hizashi and Nemuri did.

“Oh, did you move in together?”

“Yeah,” Shota said, happily. “Saved him from a life of sin four years ago.”

Hizashi almost choked on whatever he was going to say next. “Sho!”

“What? Okay, three and a half years, our anniversary is in April.”

“Anyway, we really do need to get going. It was nice talking to you.”

“Yeah, we should get together for coffee sometime!”

Shota nodded. “Midnight would love to go on a double date with you.”

Ms. Joke frowned. “Could we do it without her, she makes me uncomfortable.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” he said soothingly, “the hyper-sexualized thing is all shtick. She would never cross the line with a student.”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what?” Hizashi asked.

“Oh, Joke,” Shota said trying to sound heartbroken. “You don’t have to worry, the rumors of her promiscuity are just that, vicious rumors. She would never cheat on her partner.”

Even if he was an idiot. Shota frowned as he thought; the speedster was growing on him and he did take his time warming up to people. What was a step up from idiot? Twit? No. Ninny?  Nah. Dork? Yes. He mentally upgraded Tensei from Nem’s Idiot to Dorkboy.

The only thing keeping Hizashi upright was his arm linked with Shota’s as he suppressed his laughter.

He leaned forward and gave a little sniff. “She likes violets, sweaters with knee-length skirts, and that rose perfume you used to wear.”

“They don’t make it anymore,” she replied in a soft voice.

“Shame.” He straightened up. “I was going to ask you what it was called, Nem’s birthday is coming up and I want to get her something special. Guess I’ll have to keep looking. I’ll give her your number, so you two can get to know each other better. It’s still the same, right?” he asked while turning himself and Hizashi back toward the café.

“Y-yeah.”

“Good. See you around.”

“Tootles!”

“Oh, uh, bye.”

 

Yagi stood in the cold outside the small café where he was meeting Izuku. It was odd getting lessons in giving lessons from a teen, but it all seemed like sound advice so far. Training Izuku and the ever-explosive Bakugo was taking the edge off his nervousness. If he could handle those two, he should do all right.

He gave a startled yelp when Izuku dropped down in front of him from the single-story building’s wooden awning. The sheepish grin the boy flashed him by way of apology for the startle was enough to warm his heart against the late autumn chill.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just came from my morning run.”

“Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

The boy shrugged. “You want Kacchan and me to move faster. I was already doing everything I could. This puts all of the drills to use. It’s the only thing my trainer could think of that might help.” He turned to peruse the coffee menu. “Although, he told me I was worrying over nothing. That you likely had a goal set in your head, rather than tracking our progress.” He glanced back at Yagi. The man sported a sheepish look of his own. “If that’s the case just try to remember that beginners need to be reassured that they’re making progress to not get discouraged. We may not even see that progress ourselves, so it’s your job to let us know it’s there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re learning,” Izuku said with a bright smile. “Just let Kacchan know he’s doing well. He’s sensitive. And if you tell him I said that I will deny it with my dying breath because he would kill me.”

Yagi chuckled. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me by paying for Kacchan’s coffee.”

“Sure! I can get yours too. It’s easier that way,” Yagi said beaming.

“I can pay you back, then.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Izuku countered.

“You’re not. I promise. I told you I like treating people.” The line moved forward and Yagi asked, “What did you want anyway?”

“Um, I’ll try a butterscotch and vanilla latte.” He muttered to himself, “Sweet stuff hasn’t been hitting as much lately,” before turning back to Yagi. “And Kacchan likes the chile mocha with an extra shot.”

“Well if that isn’t just the perfect metaphor for the pair of you, sweet and spicy.”

Izuku blushed. “Yeah, and you’re a black coffee; plain, powerful, and beloved the world over.”

Yagi coughed up blood and had to bury his face in his scarf, so the boy placed their order. They walked to the beach sipping their drinks. Izuku checked for Bakugo, who turned out to be waiting by the water’s edge, while Yagi found a private spot to transform.

“Ah, young Bakugo! I need to apologize to you.”

“For what?”

“I’m still learning to be a good mentor. I’m glad the two of you are strong enough to bear my mistakes. I want you to know, your speed is improving, you are so much faster than when you started. I don’t let you know that your improvements are genuinely impressive. My own mentor was, was sparing with compliments, but I don’t want to be like him in that regard. So, as much as I push you to do better I expect the same in kind. If I’m not doing something right, tell me.”

Bakugo blushed. He zipped his coat up and mumbled, “We should get to work.”

 

On December first when Izuku entered Kuroi ba, he noticed that Kurogiri had put up decorations. There were strings of soft white lights behind the bottles of alcohol, a holly wreath on each door, and a cedar garland interspersed with silver ribbon and mistletoe around the ceiling and tacked under the bar.              

Scattered about were also a few worn paper decorations. A Santa hat was affixed to the brick wall above the torn All Might poster, making it look like the hero was wearing it. A silhouette of a sleigh and some reindeer was tact on the TV. The jukebox was covered in snowflakes. A small laminated tree, acting as an advent calendar, was hung on the far side of the bathroom door.

It was both odd and comforting. Tomura and Kurogiri had their own quiet traditions. “Stray-kun, would you like to help pick the countdown movie list?” 

He was about to agree when he noticed the sour expression on Tomura’s face. What he could see of Tomura’s face. “Is that a thing you two do every year? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“It’s no intrusion,” Kurogiri said as Tomura snapped, “Good.”

“Tomura, behave,” Kurogiri chided lightly.

“No, it’s okay. I get where he’s coming from. This is special to you two.”

Kurogiri regarded his charge for a moment, before sighing and asking, “Would it be alright if he joined us at least?”

“I guess,” Tomura replied, a little pouty. “But he can’t say anything about my movie choices.”

“I’ll refrain from making fun of you for being an Otaku,” Izuku promised on his way to the bathroom. 

downstairs was just as sparsely and cozily decorated. A long string of red and green LED lights encircled the ceiling. Hanging next to the kitchen were a few clear glass ornaments with pine twigs and other wintergreen plants in them. Papercraft stars were scattered about Tomura’s shelf along with a few holiday-themed anime figures. 

A small pile of movies sat in front of the TV set. Izuku made himself comfortable on the small, worn sofa. Once he was settled, Kurogiri took his vitals and gave him a quick kiss on the temple. 

“There isn’t a new Pokemon movie this year, so I figured we could watch the first one tonight,” Tomura said quietly.

“That’s acceptable.”

The pair sorted through their collection, bartering and bantering with each other until they had picked out twenty-six movies to watch.

“Why is this the only animated film you like?”

“I enjoy several of the anime you picked out,” Kurogiri retorted. “Although, I’ll never understand why you like that one.”

“It’s a classic.”

“It’s nothing but tragedy porn.”

“Well excuse me for having emotions,” Tomura snarked.

“Yes, I’ve done my best to curb that tendency.” They could hear the smirk in his voice. “Now let’s all settle down and cry about the death of a boy who forces his best friend into dogfights.”

“Can we not phrase it like that?” Izuku asked, speaking up for the first time since he sat down.

“Hits a little closer to home, huh, Umbreon?”

“I mean, kinda, Banette.” 

The pair looked at Kurogiri as if he were going to chastise them. When he didn’t, they shared a look and said, “Spiritomb,” in unison.

The sofa was a little too small for the three of them, so naturally, Izuku ended up on Kurogiri’s lap. The older man softly stroked his hair as they unironically enjoyed the kids’ movie.

 

All Might arrived on the beach with hot chocolate for the boys. “So,” his jovial voice boomed. Quieter, as if he hadn’t realized his volume at first, he asked, “What are your plans for winter break?”

“Same old crap,” Bakugo complained. “Spending about a week with my grandparents.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“You haven’t met them. Auntie Mitsuki is … she has a very forceful personality. Her mother is a dragon lady.”

“Grandpa’s a prick too. Mom just doesn’t want to get disinherited. It’s how we plan to pay for my college.”

“Uh… I see. Um, what about you, young Midoriya?”

“Nothing much,” he replied, dragging a large chunk of sheet metal. Salt air and rust mixed in his nose making him gag a little. “More training. I did a lot of sparing in August, so I imagine something like that.”

“Nothing fun?”

Izuku shrugged. “Mom and I are going to clean the apartment and visit a shrine.”

“You gonna call your dad?”

“Well, I … I don’t think so, New Year’s is a busy time for him.”

“It’s always a busy time for him.”

“What about your dad’s parents?”

Bakugo shoved Izuku down in the sand. He kicked his legs out from under him.

“Boys! Boys, stop that. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”

Seeing All Might fret over them made both boys grin. They started laughing. 

“Sorry,” Izuku said. “It’s just… we both, well, family is complicated, you know?”

“Family is bullshit,” Bakugo said, getting up. He turned to All Might. “What about you?”

“I, uh, I’ll be spending New Year’s Eve at Tokyo Tower, like always.”

“Family? Kids?” Bakugo pressed.

“Are you trying to get me to shove you down in the sand? Because I’m starting to see the appeal.”

“Friends?” Izuku asked, finally sitting up.

“They’re spending the holidays with family,” he replied. His voice was soft, lonely without the bravado backing it. 

“That sucks.”

“We could go for noodles on the first,” Izuku suggested. “There’s a place a few blocks from here that has a New Year’s special.”

“If you, if it’s okay, I’d like that.” All Might looked sheepish, tapping his index fingers together. 

“Yeah, of course,” Bakugo replied. “I’d give me a break from the bitch and the prick.”

Izuku grinned. “Good, now let’s get this into the truck.” He kipped up.

 

It was about ten days before Christmas and as was their tradition, Izuku and his mother had gone to the Christmas Market a few blocks from their apartment.  They went just before sundown and picked out a Christmas decoration together. Last year it had been a wreath with fake holly and mistletoe for the door. The year before it was a small artificial pine tree for the dining table. This year it was a set of three clear plastic ornaments with shiny glitter glued to the outside. They had a wide opening at the top so a photo could be put inside.

Just as the sun dipped below the horizon, the pair arrived at their favorite stall. Inko ordered one hot cider and one hot chocolate, both small in a medium cup to leave room for extra whipped cream. They took in the twinkling lights as they sipped their drinks. Izuku’s night vision dulled the normally rich colors as the sun set, but he enjoyed the lights just the same.

Inko always told one Christmas Story while they meandered through the stalls looking for things they might buy each other to exchange on New Year’s. “The first Christmas after your dad and I got married we couldn’t afford much, so we agreed on a gift budget of nothing. No money could be spent at all. All the money we could spare was spent on this really nice gold wrapping paper. It had a matte finish with shiny silhouettes of reindeer on it. It was cute and elegant and it made each gift feel like it was worth a million yen.”

“Oh, isn’t there a piece of it in that green picture frame ornament?”

“Yes. We couldn’t bear to part with it,” Inko said wistfully. “I got the frame as a freebie from the grocery store. It was so romantic when he picked out the little family of deer to put in it.” Inko smiled softly as if caught up in her memories. The steam from her cup curled around her as she took a sip. Inko wiped a dab of whipped cream off her nose and continued, “Your father managed to get me a sample of the most wonderful shampoo and conditioner; I still use that brand. And we wrapped so many packets of pocket tissue, vouchers, coupons, little candies, and gum. We laughed until our sides ached. Then we had the fried chicken I tried to cook. It wasn’t very good, but I managed to cook it all the way through without burning it. Sharing a single slice of strawberry shortcake made up for it. Actually, the whole thing was perfect.”

“Wow. I hope I find someone like that.”

“I’m sure you will, Izuku.” They were quiet for a time, just enjoying the lights and festive atmosphere. When both of their drinks were done, Inko said, “Meet me at the entrance in half an hour.” She handed Izuku his gift budget and they went their separate ways.

Chapter 11: Spending the Holidays with Family

Notes:

Added a significant amount to this chapter. (10.31.23)

The three of them had gone out to lunch together and enjoyed some time spent ice skating. They spent Christmas Eve together every year and split up to spend Christmas Day with their families. Shota was finishing the fried chicken and Nemuri had bought a cake to split. The cats enjoyed the ribbons and wrapping paper from opening presents, as well as some holiday-themed treats. And Hizashi insisted on recording the whole thing.

Finally, they finished eating and headed to bed.

Shota turned to the cats. “Now we’re going to bed early, but you two can stay up late tonight. I’ll leave the door cracked for you.”

“That is adorable, Sho,” Nemuri said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“It’s important that they get as much enjoyment out of their paper as they can. It’s all going in the recycle bin in the morning.”

“You are too cute,” she said while nuzzling his ear. “I could just eat you up.”

Shota swallowed thickly. “Promise?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Come on you two,” Hizashi called. “I bought us something.”

“I should hope so,” Nemuri called back.

“Oh, more presents,” Shota said with a lascivious grin.

They never wrapped their spicy gifts to each other, to avoid accidentally opening them in front of friends, family, or coworkers; or whatever fling they had going on at the time. The pair peered at Hizashi from the doorway. He held up a black pleated mini skirt, a leather belt with a heart-shaped buckle, and a matching collar. Shota and Nemuri played roshambo to see who would wear the outfit. Shota stepped forward to receive the gift.

“You are going to look so sexy in that,” Nemuri purred.

Shota chuckled and shucked his sweater and jeans. “Yeah? You like seeing me in a skirt?” He wrapped the skirt around his waist.

“Always.” She fastened the belt for him. “Give us a twirl.”

He turned around showing that the skirt only covered about half of his ass. He knelt and looked up at Hizashi, expectantly.

“Whose a good boy?” he asked, holding the collar up.

“I am,” Shota said. “I’m a good boy.”

“Who’s good boy are you?” Nemuri asked, threading her fingers into his hair.

“’Zashi’s. I’m ‘Zashi’s good boy.”

“Yes, you are.”

Hizashi fixed the collar around his neck and made sure he could fit two fingers under it comfortably. A third finger was snug and the fourth was properly tight; not cutting off his airway, but enough to make it difficult to breathe. “How’s that feel, Sho?”

“Good.”

“You’re so pretty like that,” he cooed. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

Obediently, Shota crawled to the four-poster bed. He pulled a box from under it that matched the thick reclaimed wood of the frame. In addition to giving them access to their toys, it let him climb onto the bed without standing up. He knelt in the middle of the bed and grinned smugly at the pair.

While Hizashi stripped, Nemuri opened the box and selected a wooden paddle and a pair of pink stockings that happened to match the bra and panty set she was wearing. From there they joined him on the bed. They took turns touching him, hands wandering over tight muscles; lingering over scars and blemishes. Their fingers explored every inch of his body. Lips tracing the curves and angles of his form.

Shota was all sweet begging and praising. “More,” “Please,” and “So good,” spilled from his lips like honey for their ears. Hizashi rubbed his neck against his thigh, tantalizingly close, and hummed. The vibration felt like champagne on his skin and Shota keened in anticipation.

They worked in tandem, easing him into the right headspace. “Good boy.” “You’re doing so well.” “Just like that.” Their hands caressing, teasing, and squeezing sensitive flesh. Their mouths trailed down his neck, across his clavicle, and ghosted along his nipples. Hizashi dipped lower, nibbling on his ribs and the pale expanse of his abdomen and lower; hips, thighs, the backs of his knees. He was near the edge without his cock being touched.

“Please,” Shota mewled.

“Okay, Sweet boy,” Nemuri relented. She didn’t even have to flip his skirt up. She brought her hand down firmly on Shota’s shapely ass. A second strike sent a shockwave of pleasure through his body, causing him to gasp. “Count for me, baby boy.” Another slap hit his pert ass.

“One.”

His body writhed with each slap. Hizashi tangled his hand in Shota’s hair.

“Two.”

He moaned in pleasure as the swats built in intensity. Hizashi slid two fingers under the collar.

“Three.”

Nemuri caressed his cheeks, while Hizashi slid a third finger in, then a fourth.

“Four,” he gasped out.

Hizashi let go of his hair and rested his hand on the base of Shota’s neck.

“Five.”

The paddle came into play.

“S-six,” he hissed. “Seven.”

She increased the frequency of the blows.

“Eight, nine.”

One after another, alternating sides.

“Ten,” he breathed.

“Good boy,” she praised. “You deserve a treat.” Nemuri moved around him, trading places with Hizashi. She lay down on the bed, allowed him to drag her to him, and slipped inside. Meanwhile, Hizashi grabbed the lube from the bedside table and prepped him just enough.

Hizashi positioned himself behind Shota and rubbed the head of his cock against his entrance. He nibbled on Shota's shoulder as he worked his way to the hilt in a few long slow thrusts. Once he was fully seated, Nemuri wrapped her legs around them both, digging her heels into Hizashi’s butt. Pleasure built in each of them and their movements became frantic. Hizashi grabbed the collar again, this time with both hands.

The restriction of his airway tipped Shota over the edge. He clutched Nemuri, moaning and gasping as his hips jutted against her. Hizashi let go and grabbed his hips when he went slack. He chased his own pleasure until he too was panting and gasping and limp.

He sat back so Shota could roll to the side and cool off while he finished Nemuri. Nemuri was moaning and babbling filthy praise at both of them while he licked his husband’s cum out of her pussy. Then he focused on her clit, using his quirk to send little pulses of vibration over it. He worked two fingers in to find her g spot. She was writhing under his ministrations.

“Going to come for us, Nem?” Shota asked, taking in the show.

“Make me,” she managed.

“Oh, I will,” Hizashi said, his voice warbling with his quirk. He redoubled his efforts and added another finger.

They were all glad that the condo was soundproof as she came screaming. They lay together recovering for far too long and ended up needing to shower to clean the sex sweat off.

 

Izuku had spent all afternoon in the department store one day, searching for the perfect gift for Kurogiri. Now it was tucked away in the bottom of his backpack as Izuku set the table for Christmas dinner with his mother. 

They always ate KFC on the couch while watching a movie, but dessert was had at the table. His mother had made a delightful strawberry shortcake for the two of them.

Despite how warm and inviting their home was and how the time they spent together was brimming with love and joy, Izuku’s mind kept wandering to the occupants of Kuroi Ba and its sparse but elegant decorations. 

He managed to keep up his side of the conversation and his mother went to bed early; Auntie Mitsuki was taking her for a spa day in the morning. Izuku ruffled his bed to make it look slept-in and pulled on the Selkie hoodie Kurogiri got him. The grays and blues blended in better than the orange of the Fat Gum hoodie. 

After digging out the present and lamenting that he hadn’t been able to give it to Kurogiri on Christmas Eve, Izuku texted that he was on his way. The warp gate practically engulfed him when he reached the pickup point. 

“He’s in the kitchen, just put on something comfortable,” Tomura relayed the message as he scratched his neck. It was something he did when he was nervous or anxious. 

Izuku caught both his wrists. “Hey, stop that. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Hands off.”

“Would it help if you put them back on?”

“Funny.” 

“I try.”

“You fail.” Tomura jerked his hands away. Finally, he muttered, “Kurogiri and I always make Christmas dinner together, but he wants to include you in everything.”

“I help him in the kitchen all the time, if this is important to you, I can stay out of it,” Izuku reassured him. He strode over to the jukebox. “As long as you don’t mind me picking the music.”

“Nothing in there sucks, so you can’t fuck that up too badly, even if you tried.”

Izuku grinned at him.

“Kurogiri took ‘What’s New Pussycat’ out of there years ago. Apparently, I abused my privilege.”

“Both ‘awe’ and ‘nice’.” 

Tomura smirked and headed into the kitchen. Izuku popped downstairs and tucked his hoodie away in Kurogiri’s room; the small gift secured in the pocket.

He couldn’t help but take a moment to run his fingers, and shadow, over the soft fabric of the deep green comforter on the bed. Other, equally subtle holiday touches had been added to the room. There was a red and green flannel throw pillow on the armchair. On the dresser, a short white candle sat in a wide grey bowl filled with assorted nuts. A shiny silver nutcracker sat beside it. Flanking that was a framed, weathered piece of sheet music and a box of felt woodland creatures wearing winter gear. 

Musing that he should get a display for the cute ornaments, Izuku returned upstairs to wait for his boyfriend and try to pick the most Christmas-y song on the jukebox. 

When Tomura and Kurogiri finally came out it was with a Christmas feast of fried chicken, pickled vegetables, glazed eggplant, spicy tofu, and shrimp fried rice. 

Afterward, the three of them went downstairs to watch a slasher movie and eat cake. Tomura had picked out a rich chocolate cake, with sliced strawberries and jam in between the layers. He only teased them a little as they fed each other. Seated on Kurogiri’s lap, strong arms wrapped around him, Izuku felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with the cozy apartment’s temperature.  

“I’m going to play video games until I pass out. Don’t wake me for any of that jogging nonsense.”

“We’ll try to keep it down,” Kurogiri said coyly as he led Izuku into his room. “I have something for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Izuku protested. 

“And if I wanted to?”

“I got you something too.” Izuku grabbed the gift, wrapped in deep blue paper with silver and gold snowflakes secured with a rose gold bow.

Kurogiri produced two boxes wrapped in parchment paper with a wide cream ribbon and a narrower green ribbon tied in a bow. The smaller one had a cinnamon stick and a couple of dried slices of blood orange tucked into it, and the other had a holly sprig and a pinecone.

Their age difference had never hit Izuku so hard before. Not even on their first date when that vendor had sold them the book on chronophillia. Kurogiri was twice his age and so much more mature. He had wrapped these gifts himself, making sure each detail was perfect. Izuku had barely picked out the wrapping paper. 

His internal crisis must have shown on his face because Kurogiri tossed the boxes carelessly on the bed and crossed the room to wrap him in a tender hug.

“Love, we don’t need to exchange gifts if it upsets you.” He nuzzled Izuku’s hair as he spoke. “You are the best present I could get anyway.”

“I just… how can you like me? I’m stupid and immature and always causing problems for everyone.”

“If that’s the case, then Sensei did more than just give you a quirk in the hospital because the person I’ve experienced is thoughtful, determined, and intelligent.” He ran his hands comfortingly across Izuku’s back. “I know you have a hard time believing in yourself, Stray-kun, but can you at least trust me? I know what an amazing person you are.”

“I, I do trust you. Of course, I do.” Izuku scuffed his foot on the floor. “It’s just that… everything you do is so wonderful. And I just … like with the wrapping paper yours is perfect and mine was just thrown together by the cashier.”

Kurogiri chuckled. “It’s nothing special, love. Butcher paper from the kitchen, decorations salvaged from some ill-planned holiday potpourri, and I have a nasty habit of saving and reusing gift wrap. You’ll likely be seeing this bow again.” He ran his fingers down Izuku’s arm to brush the edge of the small box. “It’s such a lovely color. Makes me want to tie it around your ankle and make you parade around the room barefoot.”

Izuku giggled. A blush crept over him as he leaned into Kurogiri’s embrace. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Kurogiri never failed to say it back. And it wasn’t just an echo; he called Izuku Love all the time, and he was constantly giving affectionate little touches. “Come, sit with me.” He tugged Izuku over to the bed. Kurogiri pulled him into his lap as he sat. 

“I’m sorry for ruining our first Christmas.”

“How weak those around you must be if you think this little show of insecurity has ruined anything.” 

“It hasn’t?”

“No. I’ve told you before; you can feel free to express your emotions in front of me. Simply because it’s not tears this time doesn’t mean I’ll change my mind.” Kurogiri kneaded the muscles of Izuku’s thigh as he spoke. Izuku’s head was tucked under his chin. “It’s fine to be nervous. I’m nervous too.”

“But I’ll love anything you got me because it came from you.”

“Do you think I don’t feel the same way?”

Izuku tilted his head up to look at Kurogiri’s face. The mist danced over his eyes causing him to blink, but he could just make out the line of Kurogiri’s jaw. Izuku leaned up and kissed it. “Thank you.”

Kurogiri hummed, clearly pleased. “Can I open my present? Or should I just unwrap you?”

Izuku blushed to the tips of his ears. “I um, well, we could. We could do that too, if, if you want.” He squirmed in Kurogiri’s lap.

Kurogiri gripped his hips tightly. He let out a soft moan. “By all means continue, but I was only teasing. I love seeing you blush.” He reached behind him and grabbed the larger gift. “Here, I, I got this because… at the show you seemed to like the aesthetic. But, um, you were a bit uncomfortable with the sex.”

Izuku set Kurogiri’s gift beside them and took the offered present. He unwrapped it carefully; saving the paper and ribbons. Marveling at the tasteful erotica book in his hands – Wanderlust: a Seductive Anthology – Izuku unconsciously shifted on Kurogiri’s lap. Each story was accompanied by a series of photos depicting key characters and events. The photos came up just shy of pornographic. 

It was a tasting menu of the most common kinks; a mix of gay, straight, lesbian, and bisexual stories with both male and female doms. Izuku leafed through the pages taking mental notes about the major features. There was plenty of tying, spanking, police and military uniforms, literal boot licking, cross-dressing in both directions, blindfolds, sensation play, and…

Izuku snapped the book shut. He stayed still in Kurogiri’s lap.

“You don’t like it,” Kurogiri said. “It’s alright. That’s why I got two gifts. So, I know you’d like at least one of them.”

Izuku pressed his face into the fabric of Kurogiri’s vest. He gave a minute shake of his head. “That’s not it at all.”

“Oh?” Kurogiri hugged him tightly. “Then show me what’s got my boy so flustered. Maybe we’ll give it a try.”

“Um, I don’t, I don’t think you’d want to.” 

“Now, I have to know,” he purred. He lifted the book in Izuku’s hands. “It was somewhere in the middle. Just passed the female teacher, I think.” He flipped through the story after that one, finding a steamy tickling session. Izuku was, relatively, calm in his lap. By no means was he unaffected, but this wasn’t enough to make him turn away. “What about this… ah.” 

Izuku hid his face in Kurogiri’s vest.

The first photo in the series showed an older man and a twink flirting in a coffee shop. The next had the older man kneeling in a hotel room.

“Does the idea of topping turn you on?” Kurogiri moved him off his lap and sank to his knees. “What would you like me to do, love?”

Izuku took a shaky breath. “I, you. You don’t have to do that.”

“And what if I want to?”

“You… don’t even like sex. I wouldn’t want to force you-”

“You couldn’t,” he assured him. “I’m not sex-repulsed; I think it’s very pretty. Besides, a pancake isn’t done until it’s cooked on both sides.” He nuzzled Izuku’s knee. “We could do some nonsexual dominance play if you want. I could call you ‘sir’ and you could order me around for a bit. Try it out.”

“Um… o-okay. But I honestly wouldn’t know what to do.” Izuku leaned back a little, resting his hands on the bed. His fingers brushed the smooth paper of the small box he’d gotten. After a moment of hesitation, he handed the gift to the man kneeling between his legs. “Here, open this.” 

“Yes, sir.” Kurogiri was careful in removing the bow and paper, setting each aside to await proper storage. He sat back on his heels as he examined the three just-larger-than-sample-sized bottles of massage oil. The labels and box spoke of custom creations. Edible, body-safe, sugar-free, and vegan-friendly were the most notable claims.

He sniffed the first one, finding it delightfully scentless. The label called it Silk Glide; it was silicone-based and made with aloe, vitamin E, and shiitake mushrooms. 

The other two were water-based and made with almond, avocado, and rosemary leaf oils. The warming one began with anise, which was complemented by ginger before turning to a moody blend of cinnamon and black pepper. The last one erupted with the spicy scent of cardamom and coriander then bleed into black tea and licorice, finally settling into deep chocolate. 

“How did you get these?”

“I told the sales lady that I was trying to replicate my parents’ favorite fragrances for their anniversary. This three-pack was on sale, so we went with unscented for the third.” Izuku touched the bottle still in Kurogiri’s hand. “She said that this one was smooth and buttery.”

“I can imagine it now, a young punky thing teasing you and you blushing beautifully from head to toe.”

“Actually, she was older - like mid-forties maybe? - and she was very patient with me,” Izuku informed him.  “Especially when I turned my nose up at Bergamot. Apparently, it’s very common in spicy scents. It just smelled like lemon to me. I haven’t liked lemon or other citrus smells much since the coma.” He ran his hands through Kurogiri’s hair, pleased to find it there, soft and silky even though it tapered off into mist.

For his part, Kurogiri leaned into the touch, making soft pleased noises. “Why these scents?”

Izuku blushed, turning from a dusting of pink to an enticing red. “Well, um, they remind me of you.”

It was Kurogiri’s turn to blush. His cheeks tinged purple. “That’s very flattering, sir.”

“I’m so glad you like them! I was worried it was stupid.”

“It’s an amazing and thoughtful gift,” Kurogiri assured him. “I look forward to using them with you.” 

“I do too.” Izuku continued to play with Kurogiri’s hair, knowing that each moment he did nothing made it that much harder for him to act. His fingernails traced lightly over Kurogiri’s scalp.

“Sir? Will you open the other gift, please,” Kurogiri begged, leaning into the touch. His smooth deep voice made Izuku’s skin tingle.

“I’m not sure it’s fair. I only got you one present.”

Kurogiri whined low in his throat. Izuku’s breath caught. “Please, sir, I want to, to make you happy, too. Let me do this for you.”

Izuku swallowed. His mouth was unexpectedly dry. “I guess.”

“I’m so happy you’ll allow me this indulgence.” He leaned up and reached past Izuku, resting his weight on his thigh. Warm and solid, the contact was much too brief for Izuku’s liking.

Once the package was in his hands, he carefully removed the paper and ribbons; placing them with the others. A set of five All Might Battle Tamagotchi rested on a bed of colorful tissue paper. “Oh my God. Oh my god. Kurogiri this is amazing!” He half lunged at him, pushing him backward. “The only one that’s missing is the debut model. But it’s so rare I wouldn’t even know where to look for it.” Izuku peppered his face with kisses in between words. “You are amazing. Wonderful. Breathtaking.”

“That one was severely damaged. Though Tomura did tell me to hang on to it until I did something very stupid, then give it to you as an apology.”

“Aww. That’s so sweet of him. Looking out for you like that.” 

“So, I could leverage it for forgiveness if I were bad, sir?”

Izuku swallowed thickly. “Uh, no. No, if you were, were bad I’d have to punish you.”

“How would you punish me?”

“I’d…” Izuku trailed off, honestly not knowing what Kurogiri would like. A spanking seemed too mundane, although it was an easy answer. Izuku had never been spanked, and certainly not erotically, so he wasn’t sure what the appeal was. “I’d make you stand in the corner and think about what you did, and how you could make it better. Then, when I’ve decided that you’ve stewed enough, I’d have you crawl to me. Begging for forgiveness. Telling me all the things you’d do to earn it. I’d pick the best one, or two if you were really naughty. And we’d cuddle after.”

Kurogiri shuddered beneath him. “I don’t feel like bratting right now, sir. Can we skip straight to the cuddling?”

“Yes. Please yes.” Izuku stood up, dragging Kurogiri with him.

“So eager.” He let himself be pulled to the bed. 

 

Izuku took a moment at the top of the stairs to admire All Might teaching Bakugo how to throw a proper punch. He could make out All Might’s hard and chiseled back muscles straining so many layers of warm winter clothes.

His shadow stretched idly toward them. The cool, coarse sand was a familiar sensation to him now. The soft rubber of two pairs of tennis shoes sank slightly on the loose material. It gave the information an odd blurry quality despite not being processed visually. 

Izuku forced his shadow back into its normal shape before making noise to let the pair know he was there. All Might turned and waved. Bakugo gave him a sharp nod and tried discreetly hiding his blush. 

 

The ache seeped into his bones as Izuku tilted the stove for his mother to clean under it. The deep cleaning for New Year’s was almost done. They just had under the fridge to do after this. Then it was time for soba, opening the prize bags they had bought, and exchanging gifts.

“Not much under here, this year,” Inko said. “I wonder if that’s a good omen. You can put it down now sweetie.”

Izuku carefully lowered the stove. 

“Your training is certainly coming in handy.”  

Izuku chuckled. “Yeah? If I don’t get into Yuuei, I can have a lucrative career in furniture removal.”

“You’ll make it in sweetie. You’re such a bright boy, I know you can do it.”

“Thanks, mom.”

 

Their breath hung in the air as the boys ran panting and sweating across the beach. All Might hunkered down in his oversized coat, just as cold as if he were in his small form. He would pull his scarf down to shout encouragement but was thoroughly miserable in the cold.

A fact that was not lost on the boys. Izuku suggested, “Moving around more will help warm you up,” while Bakugo told him, “You don’t have to stay on our account.”

“If I leave you two won’t quit until you have frostbite. I wouldn’t be much of a trainer if I let you get sick just to ease my own discomfort.” 

“We’ve been at this for nearly four hours; we could call it a day and get some warm drinks.”

“Coffees and a couple of laps around the park, then?” Bakugo asked.

Izuku nodded his agreement. “It’ll be warmer away from the water.” His anxiety eased at the thought of getting away from the whipping wind, stinging sand, and coppery smell that clung to everything. 

All Might gave in with a cough and a nod.

 

Hunkered down in his bright yellow sleeping bag, Shota sighed. He, Hizashi, Nemuri, and Nezu were watching All Might’s New Year’s Special at Tokyo Tower. It was an annual tradition, although this year it was soured by the knowledge that he would be working closely with the man.

He was loud, cringy, and everyone worshiped him. It was going to be unbearable. Nemuri and Hizashi were already taking bets on which one of them would get him into bed first. Nezu put money on Shota, which not only ended the conversation but also sent the pair into a confused silence. Nezu scritched the cats, pleased with the slack-jawed looks he’d caused. Shota practically growled his denial.

Finally, the countdown started.

 

Inko shivered next to her son and they waited for the bell to ring. Her kimono was the same light pink as Mitsuki’s. Hers had a subtle plum flower and crane pattern while her friend opted for a striking peacock and wildflower design. Both wore coordinating obi, Inko’s picking up the softer hues of the plum blossoms while Mitsuki’s reflected the bolder colors of the peacock. Their new handmade pouches were both slightly different shades of pink, but they made up for it by being extra cute.

The first strike rang out at exactly midnight. Its clear and pleasant tone was allowed to die out completely before the next strike.

The temple they went to wasn’t very big. A huge cherry tree dominated the grounds, and Izuku leaned against it as the one hundred and eight tolls of the bell washed over him. He was just tall enough this year that his head rested comfortably on the thick Shimenawa that was wrapped around the tree. The dark green fabric of his haori caught on the bark as he shifted occasionally. 

Bakugo was fiddling with the sleeve of his black, pinstripe kimono. He forwent a haori and was denying the chill he was undoubtedly feeling. 

The two small families huddled as one against the winter wind as they spent an hour listening to the tolling of the bell.

“This was nice,” Mitsuki said.

“I missed it,” Inko admitted. 

“Beats spending the day with the bitch and the prick.”

“Katsuki,” Mitsuki said exasperated. “Please don’t call your grandparents that.”

“Tch. Whatever.” 

Inko yawned. “Do you want to join us for our shrine visit on the third?”

“Mom’s gonna drag us to that big ornate temple near their place later today. Coming back here would be a relief.” Mitsuki smiled and put her arm around Inko’s shoulder. “It’d be nice to do it as a family.” 

 

His mom barely made it to bed before falling asleep. Izuku was texting Kurogiri as soon as he was sure she was out. He stepped through the warp gate straight into the bathroom at Kuroi Ba. The tile was cold against his feet as he changed.

The sun wouldn’t rise until 6:50 a.m., so he could spend five hours with Kurogiri and Tomura. The first thing the trio did was take down the Christmas decorations. Then they cleaned the bar and apartment.

“This is going a lot faster with Stray helping,” Tomura admitted. 

“Finally, a holiday tradition he wants me involved in.”

Tomura turned away. “It’s not that I don’t want you here…”

“Sharing Kurogiri’s attention was a new experience. I get it, you’re not the only one who grew up without siblings,” Izuku replied, smiling warmly. “You weren’t too bad. And now you know what to expect in the future.”

“I guess.” Tomura looked down and quietly added, “If you’re still here.”

“Tomura,” Kurogiri said. 

“I’ll try my best, but you know as well as I do that things happen.” Izuku lifted the end of the sofa so Tomura could clean under it. “I won’t make you any false promises. I know you hate that.”

“I do believe that that is the last of it,” Kurogiri told them. “All old business should be complete. Now, to go watch the sunrise with Sensei.”

They arrived on a hilltop not far from Tokyo. In the spring, it would undoubtedly be swarming with people out to view the cherry blossoms. Now with the bare branches and winter chill, it was perfect for a private sunrise. 

Sensei was up and walking, dressed as always in a sharp-cut dark grey suit. His ventilator hissed softly with every breath. He spread his arms in greeting and Tomura stepped forward to hug him. He held his son, in everything but blood, as he spoke to the other two. 

“Kurogiri, Stray-kun. It’s a pleasure to share this with you both.” Izuku could hear the predatory smile in his voice. He felt at once trapped and accepted. “I hope for many happy returns.”

The small found - built, crafted, created - family watched, huddled close together, as the inky black of the night gave way to the pinks, oranges, and finally soft blue of a new day. A new year. A new life.

Chapter 12: Entrance Exam

“This way!” Bakugo called, dashing ahead of them. “If we hurry, we can just make it before the lunch rush.”

Izuku easily kept pace. “Someone’s excited.”

“Yeah well, everything is wonderful when it gets you out of going to that stuck-up temple the bitch likes so much.”

“Here we are,” Izuku said, skidding to a stop. When All Might caught up to them, bundled as he was in countless layers of warm winter clothes, Izuku ordered for them. “Three New Year’s Specials in a private room, please.”

“Right this way,” the middle-aged waitress said with a bow. It was a little hole-in-the-wall shop; barely more than an awning and three stools. She opened a side door and led them into a mahjong parlor. Against the wall shared with the noodle place were four private booths. They were led to the one farthest from the door.

All Might was surprised to find Horigotatsu-style seating and a very narrow table. He slid into one side as Bakugo slid into the other. “This is cozy,” he commented, taking his scarf off.

“Deku’s dad took us here a couple of times when we were little.”

The trio chatted idly as they waited for their food and drinks. All Might was thrilled by the royal milk tea and the family-style serving of the broth and noodles. 

The look of concentration on his face as he carefully added a small portion of noodles, green onions, mushrooms, and Bok Choy made the boys giggle. All Might smiled ruefully back. “I don’t want to overdo it.” He seemed to catch his slip, and added, “I’ve got to keep my trim figure after all.”

Izuku just nodded, but Bakugo said, “I heard that this broth was a great hangover cure.”

“The best cure is prevention,” All Might told them. “Not that you should be drinking enough to get drunk, but water will fend off most of the symptoms of a hangover, and eating something absorbent first will take care of the alcohol poisoning.”

Both boys stared at him incredulously. 

“I did go to university in the States. They drink quite heavily on weekends and holidays.” He poured just enough broth to steep his vegetables. “Their hangover cures are wild. David swore by a triple fried-egg chili-chutney sandwich. It was actually pretty good, but I could have done without the extra slice of bread.”

Bakugo grabbed the chili-garlic sauce after Izuku had taken a scoop and scrapped the whole thing into his bowl. “Sounds okay. What else is supposed to be on it?”

“Tomato according to David. Although his other friends argued about everything in it. If triple fried egg meant ‘three eggs’ or ‘triple decker’. If it should be ‘chutney and chili sauce’ or a ‘chili-chutney’. As well as whether other ingredients were allowed. I draw the line at buttering the bread.”

“So, tell us a New Year’s story about this David character,” Izuku pressed, knowing full well All Might meant David Shield the world-renowned support gear developer.

“Let’s see… We went skiing at his family’s timeshare, at the same time as another owner’s daughter and her boyfriend. They were rude and snobby anytime we were in the cabin, which wasn’t much because we hit the slopes from sun up until the resort shut down the lift all three days we were there.” 

All Might paused to slurp his noodles. “They were drinking on our last night and David offered to cook breakfast in the morning if they kept it down. The boyfriend, amid several other insults, calls David a lightweight. Dave says, ‘That’s rich coming from a townie sipping five percent bread soda.’ This guy goes red and starts mouthing off, eventually telling David to put his money where his mouth is. 

David pulls out a bottle of Tequila he only brought to keep his dorm mate out of and starts pouring shots. He tells the guy, ‘If you win not only will I make breakfast, but I’ll do it in nothing but an apron.’ The guy accepts. David grabs a slice of bread and they start throwing them back.

 Five shots in and David sends me into the kitchen to fetch some salt and a lime. Ten shots and he’s making lewd comments about where he’d like to lick the salt from, which was frankly embarrassing. They finish the bottle. Dave eats the worm from the bottom and the boyfriend loses it right there on the dining room floor. David tells the girl, ‘We want fried eggs and bacon in the morning and please keep it down for the night.’ She’s so livid at having to clean up the mess she actually made her boyfriend cook in nothing but an apron. He made damn good bacon. Perfectly crisp and not burnt at all.”

The boys laughed. They told their own stories. They listen to more of All Might’s college stories. Soon though, steam began wafting off of him.

The hero’s obnoxious ‘A phone call is here’ ringtone blared out. All Might grumbled as he checked who was calling. He was genuinely surprised to see Izuku’s number. He had discreetly dialed All Might’s phone from his pocket, giving him an easy out now that his time limit was up. 

“Sorry, boys, it’s the office. I’ve got to go.” He slid to the end of the Horigotatsu seat and smoothly rose to his feet. All Might left a few bills, more than enough to cover the meal, and hastily secured his scarf. 

“He must really be lonely,” Bakugo said, staring at his abandoned bowl. It was only half-eaten, and All Might hadn’t put much in it, to begin with.

“At least he had fun today,” Izuku offered.

“Yeah.”

 

January went by with few changes. Four Saturdays with All Might, dragging trash and fighting nausea. Four Sundays with his mother - cooking and cleaning but also just spending time together. And countless nights with Kurogiri training, sparing, and sleeping wrapped in mist, shadow, and a thick comforter.

As they were deliberating between massages and going straight to sleep, Izuku asked, “What do you want to do for Valentine’s Day?”

“We could go out for dinner.”

Izuku selected the chocolate massage oil and showed it to Kurogiri. When he reached for it, Izuku pulled it back and gestured for him to lie down. “Would you. I mean would it be weird if I made you chocolates?”

“And I’d love it.” He stretched out on his stomach. “Would you prefer if I reciprocated then, or on White Day?”

“Um, either is fine,” Izuku replied, straddling his hips. He poured some oil into his palm and warmed it in his hands. “I wouldn’t mind if you, you know, didn’t want to. It is silly.”

“It’s cute,” Kurogiri corrected. “Just like you. I like that you want to do such sweet things for me. I want to do them in return.”

Izuku pressed his hands against the smooth plain of Kurogiri’s back. He caressed the broad expanse of muscle for a moment. “I guess it doesn’t matter which, just as long as you remember that I’ve never made chocolates before.”

Kurogiri moaned as the contact became gradually firmer. “If you’d like, I could teach you.”

“Um, I was going to ask my mom,” Izuku told him. He kneaded Kurogiri’s shoulders. “I just can’t think of a good way to do it. No one’s ever given me any, so I don’t have a good reason to learn.”

“Tell her you want to be prepared for the eventuality. Oh, right there. Harder, Love.”

Izuku worked a knot. “You don’t mind?”

Kurogiri was lost in the pleasure of Izuku’s hands for a moment before answering, “It’s natural for you to want to share certain experiences with family.”

Izuku gave a little moan of his own as his ministrations caused him to lean forward, pressing his front against Kurogiri’s firm buttocks. “S-sorry. I can grab a pillow if it makes you more comfortable.”

“Oh, Love. Don’t you dare.” He canted his hips to increase the contact. “I don’t mind it. I want you to enjoy this too. As unfair as it is, I enjoy knowing I turn you on.”

“It isn’t unfair. I know you love me, and that’s more important,” Izuku reassured him. Moaning, he rocked his hips. “Would it be okay, I mean, can I, I want to …” Izuku trailed off.

“You have to ask properly, before I’ll agree,” Kurogiri reminded him.

“I’m not sure what to ask.”

“Do you want to have sex?”

Izuku blushed and stuttered, “Well, um, I, I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Good. Do you want skin-to-skin contact?”

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

“We’ll call that a ‘no’, for now,” Kurogiri said, rolling his hips. “Do you just want to rut against my ass?”

Izuku buried his face in the mist of Kurogiri’s back and nodded.

“Mmm. Out loud, Love.”

“Can I please,” Izuku paused, his mouth suddenly dry. He took a deep breath, inhaling the rich scent of the oil, and Kurogiri’s own enticing musk. “It’s too embarrassing.”

“Then you’ll have to try and keep up the massage, without moving your hips too much. And if you can’t, you’ll just have to make it up to me.”

“I, I’ll try.” Izuku swallowed hard. “I mean I can manage that.”

“Perfect, Love.”

 

He nervously approached his mother as she puttered about the kitchen. “Um, hey, have you ever made homemade chocolate?”

“Oh sure, I used to make chocolate for your father every year,” she replied looking a bit wistful. “He always got me roses on White Day. He can’t cook to save his life.”

“Could you teach me?” He asked, fidgeting with the hem of his ‘Raglan Shirt’ tee.

“Of course, sweetie.” Inko checked the fridge and cupboards for ingredients. “I’ll need to go to the store. So, is there a girl?”

“No, not in particular. I just want to know how in case.” His words trailed off into muttering.

“It’s pretty easy,” she assured him. “The key is starting with cocoa powder. Let’s go.”

 

Izuku checked again that he had gotten all of the mess cleaned up. The pot and bowl were washed and dried, the counter was scrubbed clean, and the mold was back in its dusty drawer. Flowers, hearts, and bows all filled with mint, caramel, or raspberry rested inside a cute heart-shaped tin. He checked to be sure no smears of chocolate or smudges of butter adorned his face or arms.

Satisfied that everything was in order, he left the apartment. Once in the octopus slide, he texted Kurogiri. The warp gate seemed to caress him as he was transported to the bar.

Much as he had with the couple’s good luck charm, Izuku quietly slid the tin over to Kurogiri as he grabbed his costume. Tomura stayed silent, and Kurogiri just said, “Thank you, love.”

Kurogiri was sampling the chocolates when Izuku came out. He lightly slapped Tomura’s hand away. “Mine.” Looking up to see Izuku, he gave a pleased expression. “These are very good, especially for a first time.”

Izuku sat at the bar. “I’m glad you like them.”

Kurogiri purred, “I love them, almost as much as I love you.” He wrapped the tin away, mostly to protect his chocolates from Tomura, and pulled out the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope. He took Izuku’s vitals for the final time, texted the doctor, and waited for the all-clear. Izuku was declared stable and fit to fight.

Kurogiri took the seat next to him at the bar and the pair began to formulate a battle plan for the entrance exam.

“They’ll tell you that you get points for taking out these smaller robots, but you’ll also earn ‘rescue’ points for assisting other candidates. Taking out the larger robot isn’t worth points unless it’s viewed as a rescue, but no one that’s done it has failed to get into the hero course,” Kurogiri explained.

“Is there a breakdown on how much and for what? Or is it discretionary?” Izuku asked.

“Discretionary,” he replied. “That’s what takes so long to get the scores out. However, we do have some analysis of past rulings. Keeping foes off another candidate usually counts for a few. If it’s obvious that the candidate doesn’t need the help, though, like in the instance of an area effect attack then it doesn’t count. Team-ups that are effectively communicated beforehand score nicely; otherwise, you could just be accidentally attacking the same foe, rather than making a coordinated effort. And of course, rescues themselves, anything from blocking blows to helping those trapped by rubble, are scored based on the perceived danger to yourself, or the perceived selflessness of the act.”

Izuku sighed. “It’s not much but it’s better than nothing. I should team up with a strong fighter and have them draw agro. I could probably convince Kacchan to do it.”

The familiar term piqued Tomura’s interest. “Actually, shouldn’t you draw agro for them? It seems like you’d score higher as a lure, bringing enemies into their range.”

Izuku gave it some thought. “Yeah, that would put me at a higher risk, but would be more appealing to a random candidate if they separate me from Kacchan.”

“Good. For now, you can practice making a staff from a metal pole. After we’ll do some more first aid training, you should know how to apply a splint before the test.”

 

They had been training with All Might once a week for four months and it was finally the last day they would work on clearing the beach before the exam. All Might had just left, when Yagi-san, still steaming at the shoulders, called down from the top of the stairs. “Come on up, I thought I’d treat you to some ice cream. I know it’s cold, but they also serve pastries if you’d rather and –”

Both boys leaped up the stairs; Bakugo using his quirk to take it in a single bound and Izuku springing to the halfway point and then over the railing to the landing.

It was a bit of a drive, but it was worth the trip. The Switch Café & Bistro was cozy and served a mix of local favorites and Western-style food. The lunch specials were a mixed sandwich platter for four or a grilled cheese with tomato soup. Bakugo was delighted by the separate section of spicy dishes; he recognized some from the lunches Yagi-san brought them.

“I wish I could try the barbeque pork sandwich,” Yagi lamented as the trio looked at their menus. “It’s everything I can do not to order it when I’m picking up lunches for you two. Barbeque was a favorite of mine when I was in the States.”

“Does it have too much fat or sugar?” Izuku asked. “Or is it just too big?”

“Too big,” Yagi confirmed. “It’s like a wanpaku sandwich, and then it comes with fries and a side.”

“We will totally eat the fries for you,” Bakugo offered.

“Yeah, we could ask for an extra plate and dish up the sides family-style,” Izuku said. “Then you don’t have to worry about how much you can eat. Trust me, we have this covered.”

“I hate being fussy in restaurants, though.”

“Nah, this is the least fussy way to do it,” Bakugo said. “You could even take some home, we know they do take out, so they got boxes.”

Yagi looked thoughtfully at them. “If we did that I could eat about half the sandwich, a few fries – especially if they’re the garlic-rosemary kind – and still have room for dessert.”

“Good. I want the spicy curry bread and the Cajun sweet potato fries. I don’t care what else.”

“Pickled veg?” Izuku asked. Bakugo nodded his consent, so he raddled off his own order, “I’ll get the burger with, why not, the truffle fries and mixed tempura.”

“What kind of ice cream do you want?” Yagi prompted. “And remember, get whatever you want.”

“Can I have the double chocolate coffee shake?” Bakugo asked.

Yagi nodded, smiling that the boy was almost shy in asking, at least by his usual standards.

Izuku waffled between the matcha parfait and the mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Bakugo elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Just get three scoops of different flavors; it’ll cost the same as mine. You know you want to try the melon too.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Plus it will look cute.”

When they folded the menus and set them on the edge of the table, their server was prompt. Yagi ordered a single scoop of the blood orange sorbet and the boys each got a soda. They chatted idly until the food came. The server gave them a bit of side-eye when Yagi was the recipient of the extra plate but said nothing in the face of Bakugo’s glare and Izuku’s bright curious smile.

“You two are like a force of nature,” Yagi commented. “Nothing can stop you.”

“We try,” Bakugo said gruffly.

“Are you nervous about the entrance exam?”

Bakugo just tisked, while Izuku nodded energetically.

“I’m sure you’ll both do well.”

“Y-yeah, I got a late start on training and my quirk’s not flashy, but I know I’ll do well on the written, and I’ve gotten so much help catching up, even if I don’t get into Yuuei I’ll still become a hero,” Izuku said. “Ow! Kacchan!”

 “Don’t talk like that. You might have to settle for the general course, but you are getting into Yuuei, nerd.”

Izuku hugged him in response, Bakugo grumbled and swore softly the whole time, but he didn’t push him away or tell him to stop. Instead, he asked, “Do you know anything about the exam?”

“Ah, they change it every year,” Yagi said. “But it’s usually mainly about speed. How fast can you take out villains? How fast can you rescue civilians?”

“That must be why All Might was always on us about speed,” Izuku said returning to his own space.

“Was getting a little tired of being called a slowpoke, but I guess it was his way of preparing us without saying anything,” Bakugo reasoned.

They continued to chat as they ate. Yagi even tried a bite of Bakugo’s Cajun fries, to the giggling delight of the boys. He was clearly affected by the heat, even if his face didn’t turn red. “That’s about as hot as I can handle.”

Finally, their dessert was brought out. Izuku grinned at the three perfect scoops of green ice cream before him; the melon was a delicate, almost-white green, the matcha a deeper, more saturated green, and the mint was ever-so-slightly-blue green with dark brown, almost black, chips. A wafer cookie and a sliced strawberry were used as a garnish.

“I miss strawberries,” Yagi sighed, turning away from the offending fruit.

Izuku quickly bit into the berry. “It’s not that sweet, kinda bland,” he said, honestly a little disappointed. Smiling up at the man, he said, “Technically, you could still eat them, if you picked all the seeds off.”

“Who’s got time for that?” Bakugo asked.

“Somebody that loves strawberries but can’t eat seeds,” Izuku pointed out.

Yagi didn’t reply to the exchange but looked contemplative. He only ate half of his single scoop of sorbet; the boys each tried a bite when he assured them he couldn’t finish it. The waitress was polite as they paid but still eyed the group with some concern.

Having enough, Izuku huffed at her, “Sports trainer.”

“Oh!” She had the good nature to blush. “I thought that maybe he was… an uncle or something. You’re so familiar with him.”

Izuku shrugged at her and the group parted ways at the door. After a few blocks, Bakugo spoke up. “That chick’s not wrong, there’s something weird between you and Yagi-san.”

“Kacchan! How can you even think that about him?”

Bakugo chuckled “I wasn’t. I think the fear of All Might is enough to squash something like that, but if it weren’t and he ever became a creeper to you, you tell me and I’d take care of it. Okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Same. Don’t look at me like that, my quirk analysis alone makes me dangerous. And my other trainer has been teaching me first aid.”

“Why does that sound ominous?”

“Because I can break your bones and then set them,” he said with a warm and sunny grin. It reminded Bakugo of the way his mother had looked at their homeroom teacher. He shuddered.

“Ah. Anyway, I meant that your admiration, your feelings toward him are weird.”

“I don’t like that implication.”

“Not bad weird. It’s just, we haven’t known him for very long and I don’t want you to get hurt. He won’t keep in contact with us once school starts. And I think you’re starting to think of him as a father figure.”

“Oh, that. Kinda. He’s sort of dying. It won’t be like super soon, but he’s got maybe five-ish years if my guess is correct. I know I’ve gotten attached, but I also know he won’t be around long, and if he does cut us out of his life after this it would save me some pain in the long run.”

“What’s he dying of?”

“I’m not positive, but coughing up blood is never good,” Izuku replied. “Severe prolonged cough, chest infection, and bronchiectasis are the most common causes. But it could also be a pulmonary embolism or edema, lung or throat cancer, tuberculosis, or the side effects of certain medications. None of it is good. Combined with a gastrectomy, well he’s clearly not getting proper nutrition just based on how little he can eat.”

“A cup to a cup and a half at a time, if what he ate today is any indication, he should eat about every two to three hours,” Bakugo added. “Which he clearly doesn’t.”

“Add to that he was obviously beefier before,” Izuku muttered. “It doesn’t look good. Still, I think we should do something to thank him, and All Might, for the training.”

“Sure, but what?”

“Well, Yagi-san is easy. I don’t know what to do for All Might.”

“He really doesn’t like the cold,” Bakugo offered. “A hoodie, a scarf, a …”

“Yes, let’s find a hoodie in his size,” Izuku laughed.

“Well, we could make a scarf.”

“Do you know how?”

“We can learn.”

 

The candidates had given a strong showing on the written. Most had hesitated when the practical had started without a countdown. Shota leaned against the back wall of the observation room eyes shifting between the handful of them that hadn’t.

He knew that Tensei’s little brother was in the mix somewhere, but the speedster hadn’t caught his eye. On the one hand, it didn’t speak highly of the boy’s chances, on the other it meant that he’d be judged on his own merits as the tapes were reviewed.

A boy with an explosion quirk had launched himself into the fray and was a nonstop whirl of destruction. He didn’t stop for breath; he didn’t stop to help the other candidates. He didn’t talk to them either. He was quick and efficient, but anger was etched hard on his face. His quirk was impressive, but that was likely going to be his biggest pitfall. In the end, he took out roughly thirty robots without assistants.

Like him, the next candidate leaped from bot to bot. Rather than fueling his leaps and destruction with explosions, he was smashing them with bestial rage.

Watching him take down a series of three-point bots with a single punch to the ‘eye’, Kan called, “Dibs.” 

Shota was about to tell him to fuck off when the boy made a reckless leap and was slammed into the ground by a one-point bot. He smirked. “Yeah, you can have that one.”

“Shut up, he just needs training.”

A girl with enlarged hands quickly took charge of a small group of fighters to work methodically toward the center of the mock city. It was clear she had had some formal martial arts training from the way she moved. She took out only fourteen robots but would earn a lot of rescue points during deliberation, due in large part to her blocking incoming attacks for her party.

The last two were very similar. Both used the few seconds their peers lagged behind them to improvise a weapon.

The plain-looking one had dashed to the nearest shop with an awning and snapped a pole free. The tired-looking one grabbed a metal folding chair from the front of a café. Each targeted a one-point bot and after disabling it with brute force, used the remains of their weapon to pry one of the gun barrels off the robot’s arm.

From there, their tactics differed quite a bit. The plain one used his rod as a bow staff, a weapon he was clearly trained with. He also spent an equal amount of time helping the other candidates out from under rubble as he did smashing robot joints. He managed to take out thirteen robots. His rescue points would need to be at least of equal value to get him into the Hero Course.

The tired one, using his weapon more like a bat, was more conservative in his attacks. He waited until he was sure he wouldn’t get hit. He made up for it by spending less time helping his peers. It was logical given the information the candidates had, but it would cost him in the end.

Shota checked the roster to see what their quirks were, as neither seemed to be using one. That’s interesting, he thought. Shota felt he knew what the boys would do when the zero-point robot was released.

He was wrong on both counts. The plain boy practically ignored it, continuing to attack and rescue in equal measure. He only paid it enough attention to avoid the falling debris as he kicked a bot away from a trapped candidate.

On the other hand, the tired one gave up attacking altogether and rushed in on full rescue mode. He ran parallel to the robot scanning the street for any signs of candidates that had gotten too near the thing. It gave Shota hope that he’d earn the needed rescue points to pad out his total.

Both ended up leaping out of the fray with a future classmate on their back; the plain-looking one utilizing a girl’s antigravity quirk to make an impossible jump. Shota chuckled when he made those around him grimace as he set his broken leg rather than wait for Recovery Girl. She was waved off with a bright smile and a medical alert bracelet as the boy plopped himself down on the stretcher.

He hoped they had racked up enough points.

Notes:

I've made some updates to previous chapters, mostly just adding Aizawa content.

Chapter 13: Celebration

“It isn’t logical,” Shota grumbled as they settled on the final scores. “The robots put certain quirks at a disadvantage from the outset. If you sent me in there without my capture weapon I’d have faired the same.”

Kan nodded. “While this crop is brimming with potential I’m worried at the overall lack of combat training. From the look of things, there were three maybe four of them with any formal training in that regard. The rest relied on their quirks’ power and exhibited less skill than I’d like to see.”

“I’m more concerned with the overall lack of rescue points earned,” Nezu lamented. He had even added an additional category to the rescue point criteria to put extra emphasis on teamwork. Unfortunately… “The top score has none and less than half have the applicants have an approximately even split. Only three in the top twenty have more rescue than villain points.” He began muttering to himself about fully overhauling the exam. He would have a whole year to tinker with it now.

“Speaking of the top score, why don’t you take him, Aizawa? I got the top in my last batch, so it’s only fair,” Kan said.

“Fine, but don’t act like you’re doing me a favor,” he replied. “Oh, you might as well take three to start. Two of the ones I had my eye on didn’t make the cut.”

“That’s why you’re so upset about the robots.”

“Shut it and take your picks.”

“Fine, fine. Shiozaki, Kendo, and Yanagi.”

Shota glared but didn’t comment about him taking the three highest-scoring girls. “Tsunotori.”

“Not everyone flourishes under your… aggressive style. She’d do better in my class, Aizawa.”

“Tough.”

“She’s an exchange student. You can’t expel her because she needs –”

“Not that I was planning on it but, yes I can.”

“Aizawa! These kids try very hard just to get in.”

“And some of them stop trying after that, so they don’t deserve to take a slot from someone that will put in the effort.”

“I’ll trade you one of the top three, then.”

“No, no I should have stipulated when I gave you the picks that you could only take one extra girl. It’s my own fault I’ll only have five.”

“Give me Tsunotori and you can have one more. I’ll take an extra pick from the boys.”

Shota tilted his head to one side as if he were deliberating. The slight, almost imperceptible, tug at the corners of his mouth was the only clue that he had likely planned this from the start. “If you insist: Asui and Ashido.”

“This is why you were so quick to take Bakugo,” Kan complained. “Kodai.”

“No, this is just negotiating,” Shota replied. “That was all you, not that I’m complaining. Hagakure.”

“Kimori.” Kan did a quick count of the female students. “Looks like you get Uraraka and Jiro.”

Shota just nodded, satisfied with the outcome.

“Tetsutetsu.”

“Kirishima.” All of the hero course teachers had long ago agreed to split up similar quirks so they didn’t feel the need to compete with each other.

“Bondo.”

“Ojiro.” And so it went, with Shota selecting students without flashy quirks, while Kan concentrated on trying to fit personalities together that would foster teamwork and camaraderie.  Shota did end up picking Tensei’s little brother, the boy needed more agility and combat training than he’d get from Kan.

“That went more amicably than I thought it would,” Nezu pointed out.

“They were all good candidates,” Shota said.

Kan turned to face the diminutive principle. “He can hardly argue when he handed me the top three picks.”

Nezu chuckled and made his way over to the General Course teachers who were just finishing drawing lots for students. Yamada was grinning at his results. “You certainly look pleased.”

“I got both the students Shota was fighting for. He’s going to be so jealous.” Yamada tried to say something else, only to find he couldn’t. He glanced over to Shota, whose red eyes and gently floating hair were giveaways that he was to blame. Yamada just grinned and flipped him off.

It was going to be an interesting year.

 

Kurogiri warped them to a hilltop. They spread out a blanket and placed a gently glowing lantern in the middle. Izuku could only see clearly out to about a hundred yards, but neither this nor the muted color pallet diminished the beauty of the vast, star-littered sky. Izuku scanned the horizon for signs of civilization and found none.

“Where are we?”

Kurogiri wrapped his arms around the boy and turned him. “Tokyo is that way.”

“Wow. It’s really isolated out here.” He leaned his head back to look at Kurogiri. “You could do whatever you wanted to me and no one would ever know.”

“Yes, I could.” He squeezed the boy in his arms. “I think I will.” He dragged them both to the ground and pulled Izuku into his lap.

Kurogiri grabbed the first of two bento boxes and removed the lid. It was filled with various two-bite-sized pieces of fruit, sliced vegetables, and teriyaki skewers. All of it was perfect for sharing. They used a plastic drink sword in lieu of chopsticks and took turns picking.

Each bite was an act of intimacy. One of them would feed the other, then take the remaining half. Strawberries, melon, and kiwi slices were shared between kisses. When the juice dripped down Izuku’s chin, Kurogiri licked it up with slow deliberate swipes. When Kurogiri forewent the skewer, Izuku gave more attention to misty fingers than succulent morsels.

The second box was the White Day chocolates that Kurogiri had made. White chocolate truffles and strawberries layered in dark then white chocolate made up the bulk of the box, but there were also a few tiny heart-shaped cheesecakes.

“What if I don’t make it in?”

“While I do not doubt that you will, it’s only natural that you’re nervous. If you don’t make it into Yuuei, nothing changes. You come ho… to the bar each night and train, or spar, or we do some business.”

“How can you be so confident?”

“The advantage of an external viewpoint.”

He laughed. “Would you love me no matter what?”

“Of course not,” Kurogiri said. He quickly explained when Izuku gave him a hurt look, “Unconditional love is a fallacy. I don’t love your Kacchan, nor would you expect me to. So, if you emulated his behavior beyond a certain point, I wouldn’t love you anymore. But then, you wouldn’t be you. I love you on the condition that you are you.”

“I’ll rephrase then. Would you love me no matter what happens?”

“Of course.”

 

Inko came scrambling into the living room clutching an envelope. Izuku set his dumbbell on the coffee table. The envelope was pushed into his hands as his mother inarticulately explained that it was from Yuuei.

He popped the red wax seal. He read the letter carefully before sinking into the sofa and handing it to his mother. “I got in. It’s just the General Course, but Mom, I got into Yuuei!”

She hugged him, tears flowing freely from her eyes. “I’m so happy for you, Izuku!”

“We should call Kacchan!”

Inko agreed but held the hug for a moment longer first. While she was on the phone with Mitsuki, he sent a picture of the letter to Kurogiri. Then he swapped phones and sent one to Yagi-san.

He got back a reply quickly. Congratulations! I shouldn’t say, but I trust you to keep it a secret, even from young Bakugo, I’m going to be teaching a class for the hero course this year. One of the hero course teachers fought very hard for you and another to be in their class. I’m quite proud of you.

Izuku teared up at this.

Inko hung up the phone. “Katsuki-kun got his letter today too. He’s in the hero course.”

He beamed at her. “I was sure he would be, but it’s a relief to hear it! We should celebrate!”

 

“We should celebrate!” Tomura said when the pair warped into the bar late that night.

“And we will, after we handle a little business,” Kurogiri replied. “I ordered us some champagne.”

“It’s not that big a deal. Is it?” Izuku asked, grabbing his costume case from behind the bar.

“It’s the most elite school in the country. Corporate heads fight to send their children to the Business Course. Politicians donate thousands to get internships and work studies sent to their prefectures. The best Support gear comes from its graduates. So yes, it is that big of a deal.”

“We really are proud of you, Stray,” Tomura said. “Now get changed before our guests arrive. The sooner we deal with them the sooner we can go out.”

He headed to the bathroom. He changed every time he came over now. The outfit was like a second skin. He felt more himself wearing it. Looking into the mirror he watched as the boy slowly becoming a stranger disappeared and his own smiling face stared back at him. He was glad that the bracelet Kurogiri gave him matched the outfit somewhat; given he rarely took it off.

Izuku strutted out of the bathroom, his shadow swooshing behind him like a cat’s tail. “Who are we expecting?”

“Giran found someone that might solve your scheduling problem,” Kurogiri said.

Taking his seat, Izuku let his shadow glide over Kurogiri’s shins. “Nice.”              

The trio chatted casually for a few more minutes until Giran came in with a petite, fair-skinned girl with a pretty face. She was wearing a high school uniform and an oversized cardigan. Giran introduced her, “Gentlemen this is Toga-chan.”

“Hello,” Izuku said, while the other two remained silent.

“It’s nice to meet you,” the girl replied. She extended her hand.

He stood as if to shake her hand, but he moved his shadow over her. “That’s a large knife.”

“I wasn’t gonna stab ya, wolf-boy.” She shivered, her eyes narrowing.

“Two, no three more. You are very prepared. I like it.” He settled his shadow and offered her a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Can’t say the same. I feel violated.”

Izuku blushed. He stammered, “Sorry! I, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise!”

Toga smiled at him. Her cat-like eyes sparkled and her sharp fangs made it look more threatening than she likely meant it. “Oh, you’re cute! I’d love to see you all beat up and bleeding!”

“Stick around,” Tomura said. “Getting pummeled is almost an everyday thing for him.”

“Toga-chan? What is your quirk?” Kurogiri asked.

“I can turn into someone if I drink their blood. About cup lets me stay transformed for a whole day.”

“Perfect.” Izuku’s bright smile was hidden behind his mask.

“I have a second option if she doesn’t work out,” Giran said. “But I think she’s the best way.”

“Fine,” Tomura said. He turned to Kurogiri. “Now can we go?”

“Patience.” Kurogiri turned to the girl. “This will mean at least three years working with us. You will have to learn to impersonate Stray in every way. His fighting style, his note-taking, how he interacts with his friends.”

“Note-taking?”

“He is a student and will be unable to accrue the number of absences we will require of him.”

“Three years, huh? I guess. But I wanna get to know you before I commit.”

“Then you should come with us tonight,” Izuku suggested. “We’re celebrating my acceptance into Yuuei.”

“No way! And he works for you losers?”

“He does.”

“What do you say, Giran? The more the merrier,” Tomura said, standing.

“I don’t have anything else going on tonight. Where were you planning on going?”

“The Glovebox.”

“I haven’t been there in a while. You got a table?”

“I couldn’t take Tomura otherwise.”

“I’m in. Toga-chan, you want to see Stray beat up there’s no better place.”

 

The Glovebox was a squat two-story building covered in old signs and advertisements. It shared a wall with its neighbor. The inside was mostly bare bricks. The center was an open courtyard in which a fighting cage had been set up. On the first floor, patrons were free to roam about; there were no seats but music blasted from the sound system. The second floor had private tables seating between two and ten people. Tall privacy screens separated each group and blocked them from view of the corridor.

The wait staff, both male and female, wore all black; elbow-length gloves, knee or thigh-high boots, sleeveless, strapless, or no tops, and either skimpy shorts or bikini bottoms. As long as these rules were obeyed, anything else was fair game for their uniforms.

Izuku tried not to stare at the wealth of toned flesh on display. He was thankful that his face and ears were covered. He was even more thankful when they were seated. A champagne bucket sat on a stand next to the table and a woman in her late twenties wearing a leather crop top that was high-necked and zipped in the front with matching shorts was waiting for them.

She greeted them, “Kurogiri-sama, and honored guests, welcome to the Glovebox. May I get you drinks? Or will the champagne be all?”

“Sake, whiskey sour with lime, melon soda, oh, Toga-chan what would you like?” Kurogiri asked.

“Is the soda for Stray-kun?” At his nod, she said, “The same then.”

“And Hoppy for myself, I am ‘driving’ after all.”

The woman laughed at the obviously dumb joke. It put Izuku on edge in a way it wouldn’t have six months ago. She wasn’t a friend, or even associate like Giran, to joke with and be comfortable around. She was an outsider in a way that even Toga, whom he had met less than a half-hour ago, was not.

That was the point of Kurogiri making such a joke. She was, he was sure, going to be an excellent server – discreet, prompt, friendly – but she worked for someone else.

She left to fetch drinks and give them time to look at the menu. The place served mostly bar food and sushi. Toga insisted on just having what Stray-kun was having, except she also wanted some fries. They settled on a sashimi platter, mixed tempura, and the sushi special for the bulk of the meal, and half-shell oysters and shrimp jalapeño poppers for appetizers.

Once the waitress had their order, Kurogiri popped the champagne. “To Stray, for breaching the walls of the top hero school in the country, with what amounts to no quirk, and only eight months of combat training under his belt.”

They all clinked their glasses and drank; Izuku had to pull his mask off to do so. It was his first time tasting alcohol. It was bubbly like a soda but bitter and sour. There was an underlying fruit taste, but it did nothing to save the experience for him. He set his glass down with a grimace and took a swig of his soda.

“I thought it was good,” Giran said.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just an uncultured brat,” Tomura said.

Izuku pulled his mask back on and replied, “You are used to alcohol.”

“This was your first time?” Toga asked.

He nodded. He was about to reply when a woman in a tux came floating up to their balcony accompanied by a two-inch-thick three-foot by three-foot slab of oak. “I was informed that your fighter was competing in the first round.”

“Yes, Hanko-san,” Kurogiri said. He patted the boy on the shoulder.

Izuku stood and stepped over the railing. The slab of wood stayed in place when he put his weight on it. It felt like it was floating in a still pond. She lowered him into the ring.

Toga and Kurogiri leaned over the edge to watch him.

His opponent was lowered by tentacles from the other side. The man was wearing only a pair of gold gym shorts. An unseen announcer could be heard throughout the venue. “Beloved patrons, the entertainment is about to begin. Please give a polite welcome to our newest fighter, Strikeback, and his opponent, Stray!”

Applauds and hollering rippled through the building.

“Alright, gentlemen, bow, and FIGHT!” The fanfare done with, Strikeback charged Izuku. He sidestepped the larger fighter; hooking a foot around the other man’s ankle to trip him while bringing his elbow around to crack into his skull. Strikeback fell into the chain-link cage wall.

He slid to the mat and rolled to his back. With a groan, he touched the back of his head. Izuku stumbled forward, pain blossoming in the back of his skull. He touched the spot and his fingers came away bloody. There was a moment where his vision blurred and he felt nauseous. Strikeback kipped up and started taunting, but Izuku was already moving. A vicious roundhouse kick sent the man sprawling.

“You need to touch the wound to copy the blow, right?” Izuku asked as he approached the man.

Strikeback righted himself, lifting his hand to his face. When his fingers pressed into the soon-to-be bruised cheek Izuku felt a change in the air pressure before the blow connected. He was knocked back, but he grinned beneath his mask. He kipped up and gestured for Strikeback to come in closer.

“You don’t learn so quickly do you?” the man growled obliging him with a powerful right hook.

Izuku grabbed his fist and pivoted throwing Strikeback over his shoulders. He followed him down, pinning the arm against his back. He hissed in the man’s ear, “You don’t copy the injury, you copy the blow. That quick enough for you?”

 Rolling onto his back, Strikeback brought his left elbow up to hit the side of the boy’s face. He released his hold and backed off. His opponent reclaimed his vertical base. The pair traded blows, with Izuku now able to dodge the strikes sent back at him. Strikeback had a boxer’s style with a few kicks thrown in for flare. Izuku grabbed his leg every time he tried it and pulled him to the mat. It was in a leg bar, with the crowd chanting ‘break it’, that Strikeback tapped out.

The announcer called the match, “And Stray is our winner! Congratulations!”

Izuku let him go. He backed off. The slab of oak was brought down to him as Strikeback was pulled up by tentacles. The crowd cheered for a moment and then went back to its drinking, dancing, and debauchery. He slid into his seat next to Tomura.

When he unhooked his mask Toga gasped. His face was bruised and bloodied. While most of it was absorbed by the black cloth, some was smeared around his mouth and nose. Kurogiri stood and leaned over him. The pop of him setting Izuku’s nose didn’t bother anyone at the table except for Giran.

“I’ll add a little reinforcement to the next mask. Maybe make it muzzle-shaped,” he said with a slight grimace.

The boy nodded. He grabbed a wet nap from the complimentary first aid kit.

“You should leave it you look so cute like that,” Toga said blushing.

Tomura piped up, “The smell makes him nauseous.”

When Toga glared at both of them, Izuku put the wet-nap down. He stole a piece of fatty tuna off Tomura’s plate.

“Hey!” the other boy growled, but he got a new piece from the tray.

As they ate, Kurogiri idly stroked Izuku’s shadow and chatted with Giran and Tomura. He frequently wrapped his shadow around Kurogiri’s fingers; sliding over and between them. The contact was as intimate as it was subtle.

Before it was fully dry, Toga leaned over the table and licked some blood from Izuku’s face.

The boy gave a squawk and blushed bright red. Kurogiri chuckled and said, “Not here Toga-chan.”

“Why? You jealous?”

“I am not the jealous type, and Stray is free to be with whomever he chooses. If you wish to lick his face clean, by all means. But please do not transform here,” Kurogiri clarified. “I did not think to bring an extra mask.”

 She narrowed her eyes at him and cupping Izuku’s chin licked one cheek clean. She sat back and gave Kurogiri a smug look.

He purred huskily, “Not doing the other side? Pity. I rather enjoyed watching him squirm.”

Izuku hid his face in his hands. He was glad he did as the waitress came in with more tempura and fresh drinks. When she left he looked at Toga. “Don’t you dare. We are in public. A fact which you,” he turned to Kurogiri, “made perfectly clear with your awful dad-joke.”

“I was just trying to make her feel welcome. She’s going to be like a part of the family, after all.”

“Yeah, I get that. But the licking… not in public, okay?”

“But you look adorable blushing like that.”

If anything, the comment made him blush harder. “I’m not going to win this am I?”

“If it truly makes you –” Kurogiri started.

“Nope,” Tomura said, as Grain shook his head and replied, “Uh-uh.”

“Did I upset you?” Toga asked. “I was just teasing.”

“No, it’s … well it’s not fine, but I’m not mad. You were being you, which you should be. It probably doesn’t seem as intimate to you.” Izuku sighed. “I’ve barely even kissed someone. And here you are licking me. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Oh,” Toga said in surprise. She glanced at Kurogiri. “But he is right, you are so cute when you blush.”

Izuku groaned and dropped his head back into his hands.

 

Yagi had logged into the Yuuei Teachers’ Message Board on his phone. Now he regretted not waiting until he got home. He’d been filling out hero paperwork until an hour ago. He missed having Tsukauchi around to help, but the detective worked in Tokyo and it would look weird if he were still submitting the hero’s reports.

Yagi stared at the picture he had posted. It was the one of Midoriya eating a crepe. He quickly made another post. Oops. Wrong image. I don’t know how to change it. Here is the correct one.

Aizawa responded almost immediately despite it being late and him likely being on patrol. Why do you have a picture of my incoming student?

Actually, mine, but yeah? What’s with that? Yamada posted.

It’s a bit off-topic, but I met young Midoriya and Bakugo during that sludge villain attack about a year ago. He was injured and I talked with him after he got out of the hospital, he replied hoping that would settle the matter and they would tell him if his idea to wear his silver age costume to the first lesson was okay.

He’s cute, Kayama commented.

Aizawa persisted. Why do you have a picture of an incoming student?

It took him a long time to reply and he deleted his first attempt. It’s a tool to help with depression. You take a picture when you are happy; it acts as not only a reminder that you are/can be happy but also as a record of things that make you happy. Young Midoriya learned it from his tutor and taught it to me.

And this kid makes you happy? Aizawa asked.

I’m not sure I like your implication.

Don’t care. Answer the question.

We were cleaning up Dagobah Municipal Beach Park. His dedication is inspiring.

What’s on his face?

He was eating a crepe. Yagi had honestly forgotten about the smudge of whipped cream. It was the light in his eyes and the thoughtful expression that made him keep the picture.

Just keep away from my student.

I can and will spam your inbox with everything that brightens my day, don’t try me. Yagi threatened adding a picture of a row of sumire growing at the base of a concrete wall.

Aizawa replied, Bring it. I will drown you in cute cat videos. The post had four videos of the same cat attached.

Those are cute. I’d like to save them if that’s OK? Yagi replied attaching a picture of a sunset.

They posted back and forth for twenty minutes before Yamada commented, This is the weirdest fight ever.

What about that time Snipe and Power Loader were arguing over whether icing made muffins into cupcakes? Kan inquired.

This is the second weirdest fight ever, he amended. Also, he’s my student, not yours, Aizawa.

For now.

A few of the other teachers left comments like, I’m doing this now, or, Is it working?

It’s sad how many of us need this, Kayama posted with a picture of herself and the cat from Aizawa’s videos. Yes, you can save those. His name is Sushi btw.

All of us need this, Inui replied.

Nezu stepped in, declaring, I think it’s an excellent idea. We should all try to share the things that make life worth living. I’ll make a board for this. Also, your plan is fine Yagi-san. I’m sure the students will love it. And then he locked the thread.

 

At Daichi’s little hole-in-the-wall bar, the usual red paper lanterns above the barstools were swapped out for white ones with pressed flowers and leaves decoupaged on them. One of the men playing mahjong had his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up revealing tattoos of koi and snakes on a backdrop of crashing waves and falling cherry blossoms. The longer Izuku looked the more the tattoos seemed to move and change.

“Kurogiri-sama! Good to see you!” Shark greeted them from behind the bar.

“And you as well, Fukaguchi-san,” Kurogiri returned respectfully. He gestured at Tomura. “It is my charge’s birthday, and he would like to start the festivities with a whiskey sour.”

“With lime,” Tomura added.

“With lime,” Kurogiri corrected himself. “We would also like two bottles of water and an order of deep-fried lotus root to share.”

“In the back, right?”

“Please.”

Tomura led the way to the reinforced door next to the bathroom. The large, broad-shouldered man standing in front of it stepped aside and allowed them entrance. “Shigaraki-sama,” he said with a nod.

Picking two seats in the front row, Tomura made Izuku stand until Kurogiri joined them. Daichi was announcing the next match; a slick little guy with a speed quirk against a familiar ox-like man.

The little guy worked the ox’s left side, splitting his rapid-fire blows between his opponent’s knee, hip, and kidney. About every dozen hits the ox would get in one heavy blow; knocking the little guy to the concrete where he would proceed to kick him until he managed to either roll away or score a hit to the knee. This repeated until the three-minute mark when a serious-looking man in a deep magenta jacket shouted, “Finish him already!”

The little guy’s expression turned grim. He bounced up from the floor, stepped up the ox’s knee, and punched him in the throat. Ox gurgled and clutched his neck, staggering backward and out of the ring.

“As long as he’s making noise he can breathe,” Izuku whispered to himself.

“There is always a manager for each fighter, he will be fine,” Kurogiri reassured Izuku. He pulled the boy tighter to him. “Just relax, you’re not fighting today.”

The ox was still struggling to breathe as his friends helped him out of the bar. Daichi made an effort to calm the ruffled crowd. “Now, Kimura-sama, I’ve told you about your fighters being too aggressive. Save it for the Glovebox.” The plump man laughed jovially to take any sting out of the admonishment.

Kimura stood from his seat. Most of the pinky on his left hand was conspicuously missing as he shrugged his jacket off. His tattoos were visible through his worn white button-up. “If you provided a challenge this would not be an issue.”

“How about a round for the victors?” Daichi offered.

“I’m not sure we want to drink at an establishment that serves villains.” He gestured at the three of them.

“I treat all my paying customers the same, Kimura-sama,” Daichi said with a sigh. “If you have a problem with it I can refund your entrance fee for your remaining fighters.”

“No, I think I’d rather make them pay for what they did to Hayakazu.” Kimura threw off his shirt. The undulating dragons and serpents that made up his tattoo sleeves became tentacles that raced across the room toward them.

Izuku stretched his shadow out and wrapped the mass together. The writhing fleshy bundle squirmed and struggled. The sensation turned his stomach. The largest two tentacles slipped free as he ruthlessly tightened his grip.

“Please,” Daichi begged, “not here.”

Tomura stood. “Far be it for us to break the rules of the house, Daichi-san.” He handed the man a wad of cash. “I hope no one minds if my fighter cuts the line. Drinks are on us for the duration of the match.” He pushed Izuku into the ring. “Stay in, and no dying.”

“Tomura,” Kurogiri started. “Perhaps we should leave.”

“I might have, but he literally attacked us. Isn’t this a fair solution?”

“I don’t want to be banned from my favorite bar,” Kurogiri said.

“Kimura-sama, do you agree?” Daichi asked hopefully.

“Fine,” Kimura replied, stepping into the ring. “I win, you refund all my fees for the night and they pay to replace Hayakazu’s bike.”

“I want his pinky if he loses,” Tomura said. When Kurogiri admonished him he replied, “It’s my birthday.”

Kimura stepped into the ring. “You’re going to die, boy.” Two more tentacles emerged from his back.

“Kinky,” Izuku muttered.

Tomura laughed, while Kurogiri chastised him, “Stray-kun, don’t say such things.”

Kimura’s lip curled in disgust. “You’re the bastard that broke Hayakazu’s ribs! He was in the hospital for months!” The four free tentacles came rushing at the boy. “You punctured his lung!”

For a moment Izuku froze. He hadn’t known the extent of the injuries. Hayakazu had attacked, had harmed Tomura. He had merely, if roughly, restrained him, and while he hadn’t cared at the time–

“Stray!” Tomura snapped. Izuku risked a glance back at him. In his mind, there was blood on his cheek just under the thumb of his mask.

Instantly Kimura was pulled to the ground with a yelp. His tentacles thrashed about wildly; Kurogiri shielded Tomura with his warp gate. The smaller tentacles were crushed, bruised, and torn. The same pressure was applied to Kimura’s torso.

Daichi asked, “Tap?” There was no count here.

Izuku used his shadow to push the other man to the edge of the ring. The tentacles wrapped around him in response. He gauged their strength quickly; stronger than Kurogiri but not as strong as the ox. Still, Izuku felt his ribs crack as his feet left the ground.

He shifted his shadow up Kimura’s body and around the man’s throat. Blood and oxygen were cut off, Izuku counted ten seconds and the tentacles went limp. He held it another five before releasing him. Once he was sure Kimura was still breathing, he shoved him out of the ring.

“Stray-kun is our winner!” Daichi announced. “Your winnings.” He handed the money to Tomura as Izuku gingerly maneuvered to their seats.

“Actually,” Tomura said, “Can we get whatever’s left after the drinks in fried food?”

Izuku nodded. “Gonna need it.” He sat down in the chair Kurogiri vacated for him. “Sorry if I ruined your pub crawl.”

“Nah, you got me the best present.” Tomura chuckled as he stared ominously at Kimura’s limp body being collected by his fighters.

“You’re not serious,” Daichi asked with a frown.

“Yeah, make sure everyone staying got at least one drink, and start us with two orders of takoyaki.”

Daichi relaxed. At least they weren’t going after Kimura tonight.

Notes:

Bio Card
Name: Hiromi Kimura
Kanji: 博巳 鬼村
博 Exhibition, fair, show, display. 巳 snake, serpent.
鬼 demon, ogre, evil spirit. 村 village, hamlet.
Quirk: Writhing Tentacles - powerful tentacles emerge from the user's arms
Description: a hot-tempered mid-rank Yakuza thug
Affiliation: small Yakuza family
Birthday: May 29
Height: 6'1"
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: drinking, women, watching blood sports. Villians, cops, losing.

Chapter 14: Making Friends

A cup of blood was approximately two hundred and forty milliliters; half of what could safely be donated at one time. With eight weeks between donations, Toga could impersonate a normal person for forty-eight hours per month and a half. Izuku recovered in one percent of the time, meaning he could safely donate blood every fourteen and a half hours, dramatically increasing her time.

Kurogiri sat staring at the pair of sparing Izukus before him. The identical smiling faces, the fluid movements, everything was perfect down to the last detail. They were even wearing near-identical sets of workout clothes; grey sweats and tee shirts. The white one read T-Shirt, while the light blue one said Dress Shirt.

Toga had studied Izuku’s school notes and handwriting. He had recorded how he acted at school and home, even if it was mostly just muffled audio. She had to admit this was the most she had ever copied someone. The closest she’d ever been to someone. Plus, it was a cute boy. 

“Now, we just need to run her by your Kacchan,” Kurogiri said. “If she can put up with him she’ll work out fine.”

The Izukus cocked their heads. The one in the ‘Dress Shirt’ spoke, “I could skip school tomorrow.”

 “And you could stay here and be pampered by Kurogiri.” T-shirt pouted.

 “Naturally,” Dress Shirt replied. He moved into a fighting stance and the two were at it again.

Kurogiri recorded the sparring match, ostensibly to let Toga see her progress.

 

As the last week of school wrapped up the teacher at Aldera was announcing some of the high school acceptances. Privately Toga thought the practice was a bit rude. It outed several students for only making it into their safety school, and the several that weren’t mentioned at all had clearly failed to get in anywhere. She comforted herself with the fact that these people were horrible to Stray, so it was fine if their futures were bleak and their classmates could make fun of them for it.

Stray was a sweet and kind person. He always thought of others before himself, so she continued to glare disapprovingly at the teacher as he spoke.

“And, finally, a big congratulations to both Bakugo and Midoriya for their acceptance into Yuuei.”

The class burst into applause.

“Damn right,” Bakugo snapped.

“Ah, well, I got into the general course, so it’s not. It’s not a big deal,” she stammered out, ducking her head.

Bakugo turned to stare at her. “Better than any of these losers, Deku.”

He lifted his chin in response. “Yeah, Kacchan! I know. It’s just…”

“Don’t let the extras’ secondhand embarrassment get to you.”

“It’s not that, so much as I don’t think he should get to make the announcement.”

Bakugo nodded. “Yeah, he’s as lame as they are. But what are you going to do?”

“Hey, we should all celebrate.”

“Let us take you out to karaoke!”

Toga sneered at the offering students, but let Bakugo turn them down. “Fuck off, you left a spider lily on his desk once a month for three years. You don’t get to join in on his victories now.”

 “We said sorry.”

“But did you mean it?” Toga asked. “Would you mean it if I was still quirkless?” She shook her head. Turning to Bakugo, she said, “We could grab something on the way home, though. That way Mom and Aunt Mitsuki don’t have to cook.”

“Yeah, that’d be fine.” He looked down and then turned to her with a shy almost smile. “I’m glad you got in. You did really well, and, you know.”

“I’m proud of you too, Kacchan.”

 

The main building loomed larger than life before them as Izuku and Bakugo made their way down the brick walkway. Four towers of glass and steel perched atop a shared concrete base. The doors were wide and tall to accommodate potential heroes of all sizes.

The pair chatted excitedly as they entered the door marked with a one and found the lockers for their shoes. They found class 1-A. A few students were already there. A boy with spiky red hair and a pink girl with horns were chatting like old friends. A plain-looking brown-haired girl and a black-haired boy were laughing as a frog-like girl slapped a boy with purple balls for hair with her tongue.

Izuku hugged Bakugo and said, “I’m so glad you got in here. Now you’re finally around people with the same caliber of quirks as you. I’ll bet it’ll be nice to not be the big fish in the little pond anymore, Kacchan. Let me know if anyone gives you a hard time.”

 “Tsk. I don’t need you sticking up for me, Deku. I can take care of myself.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I said, keep me informed.” His tone was firm and authoritative.

A mutinous look passed over Bakugo’s face. But eventually, he said, “Whatever,” in a fond tone.

“Good. I’ll find you after. I expect you to make friends.”

“Shut up, you damn nerd.”

“Make me! Oop. Put a pin in that, I need to get going!” Izuku dashed through the halls until he found 1-C.

He was among the last to arrive, and quickly took his seat. His new classmates were a diverse bunch. There were four obvious mutation quirks: a cephalopod girl, a bug girl, a bat boy, and a bird boy. The class ranged in height from three feet to six feet tall. Three students had objects hovering around them. Their hair and eye colors ran the spectrum. Izuku itched to open his notebook and start compiling data on all of them. Unfortunately, the last of the students and the teacher walked in.

Present Mic addressed the class in a loud, clear voice, “Good morning, listeners! I’ll be your homeroom teacher if you haven’t already guessed. Just a couple of quick things before we head to orientation: First, call me Yamada-sensei at school. Secondly, I know you’re all a little bummed not to be in the hero course. Relax. Even in the gen course, here at Yuuei, we churn out top-notch heroes. In that vein, Phys. Ed. is mostly going to focus on where you went wrong in the entrance exam, and if you do well in the sports festival next month, you can earn a spot in the hero course. And last, roll call.”

 

Classes C through F met on the track field after the opening ceremony. The Phys. Ed. teacher, Maki-sensei, was a six-and-a-half-foot-tall muscular woman with ram’s horns and hooves. Unlike many people with a hoofed animal mutation quirk, she had five fingers instead of three. Izuku noted that it meant that her physical mutation was likely secondary to an emitter-type quirk.

In addition to her and the homeroom instructors, two other teachers were present. For the most part, they stayed behind the Phys. Ed. instructor and only made comments to each other. Maki’s voice was more cutting than loud and it quieted the students quickly. “Pay attention, newbies! We’re gonna evaluate your combat abilities. So, do your warm-ups, then four laps, and then grab a partner to spar with! No quirks. Now let’s get started.”

With each student setting their own pace, partners were likely to be closer in athletic ability. Izuku finished in the middle of the first pack of students without speed-boosting quirks. He made to pair off with a boy from another class who had waist-length yellow-green hair that darkened to a deep forest green at the tips.

He was pulled to the side by the, he presumed, hero course teacher in the baggy black jumpsuit, and paired with the quiet, tired-looking boy that sat next to him in class, Shinso. Izuku shrugged at the questioning look the other gave him.

“Hey, Eraser, Rude,” Maki-sensei hollered at him.

The hero course teacher shrugged at her. “Let’s not waste their time.” He nodded for the pair to continue, while Maki strode over and gave him an earful about how ‘not everything was about the hero course’.

They squared off. Izuku, the more aggressive of the two, closed the distance. Shinso threw a jab to ward him off but Izuku ducked under the blow. He wrapped both arms around Shinso’s thighs and pushed his shoulder into the boy’s gut. Shinso threw a punch to his ribs as he was brought to the ground. Izuku pulled him into a straight ankle lock.

Shinso grabbed Izuku’s knee and powered to his feet. He wrenched his foot free. Izuku rolled to avoid a swift kick. He kipped up and came at Shinso again. This time Shinso bucked and kicked his legs out behind him. He locked his arms around Izuku’s head and pulled him to the ground again. Izuku flipped them over and slid out of the headlock.

The pair continued to lock up, counter, and strike at each other until the teacher that paired them called, “Shinso go ahead and use your quirk.”

“I don’t think he can take it, teach.”

“I can handle anything you got,” Izuku snapped back.

“Really?” Shinso grunted.

“Yeah –” Izuku had intended to talk more smack, but suddenly his body just went slack. His arms dangled at his sides and his feet slipped into a neutral stance.

“Tap out,” Shinso ordered.

Izuku knelt and patted the ground three times; then returned to his previous stance.

“Okay, let him go.”

Izuku shook his head. Mind control. He’d have to develop a defense against that. He wondered what the trigger was. The time he spent under control was fuzzy. That was an interesting quality. He could clearly release it at will, but was there a way to break free or a time limit?

 Izuku noticed that Shinso was looking at him with a concerned expression. “Sorry. I tend to get caught up in quirk analysis and start muttering. I don’t even realize I’m doing it. Sorry, I know people find it creepy.” He cast his eyes downward, knowing the boy probably didn’t like him now. That more than his quirklessness had driven people away from him when he was younger.

“You weren’t.”

“Oh. Then what’s with that look?”

“You’re not creeped out by my quirk?”

“Why would I be?”

“I can make you do whatever I want with it.”

“Oh! So the affected person retains fine motor control?” Izuku’s hands twitch like he was grabbing an invisible pencil.

“Uh, no?”

“Well, then there’s a lot of things you can’t make people do,” he corrected. “Plus, I’m aware of some missing time. So, it’s not like you could get away with using it for crime. That puts any creepiness squarely on your personality and not your quirk.”

“You’re the first person to ever say that to me.” Shinso smiled. “Why didn’t he let you use your quirk?”

“No point. It’s automatic. I have a mild regeneration quirk.”

The teacher interrupted. “I’m glad you two are getting along. You’ll be working with me for your combat training. Let Yamada know, then you can head home.”

“Yes, sir!” the boys replied in unison. They jogged over to their homeroom teacher and Izuku started to tell him, “Sensei, uh, the guy in the jumpsuit –”

“Yeah, Aizawa. You’ll be training with him on Fridays after school, right?” he asked with a wide grin. “I mean if you’ve given up on the hero course I’d be happy to keep you both, but I assume you’ll want to make the jump if a spot opens up…” he trailed off to let them absorb the new information.

“Yeah, of course,” Shinso said, his voice lifted a little from his disinterested drawl.

Izuku nodded as well. “No offense, Sensei, but duh.”

Yamada chuckled. “Yeah, thought so. Also, he’ll want to go over your training regimen to see if it’s up to snuff. You can join the rest of the class for Phys. Ed. or you can pick up a class with the support or business course. I suggest the support, as you’ll likely be poached by Aizawa after the sports festival. Anyway, head back to the classroom and grab a syllabus off my desk; they include your lesson options. You can head home as soon as you make a decision. Oh, no. Sorry, I have to make sure you get the permission slips for the extra training. And the hero course waivers. While we pride ourselves on pushing you guys even in the general course, the training you’re signing up for is… intense to say the least.”

“Plus Ultra?” Izuku asked hesitantly.

Yamada nodded and ruffled his hair. “Go beyond.”

 

Bakugo was waiting for him at the front gate with a grim expression. Izuku tried to temper his own mood in light of this, but the excitement he felt kept bubbling up. “Kacchan! What’s the matter? Did something happen? Do I need to start throwing chairs again?”

“No. I… A guy from my class was expelled.” He started toward the station.

“How? Why? It’s the first day, explosion proceedings should take weeks at least.”

“Aizawa-sensei tested us, using our quirks and he said the last place student would be expelled. He meant it,” Bakugo growled. “Fuck, he even rearranged the seating chart when we got back to the classroom.”

“You did well, though, right?” Izuku asked bouncing along beside him.

“I ranked third.”

“That’s great!”

“What if he keeps cutting people?” He picked at the cuff of his uniform jacket.

“Just work hard to stay in the upper half for now. We can talk to some upper years later to see what to expect.”

“I guess,” Bakugo huffed as he returned his attention to the street ahead of them.

“So, you didn’t get a chance to get to know anyone yet?”

“No.”

“Don’t worry you will,” Izuku said reassuringly.

“I don’t need to make friends! I’m here to become a hero.”

“You wanna be the number one hero?” Izuku waited for Bakugo’s nod. “Then you need to learn to be charismatic and work with others! Look at Endeavor. The only thing he lacks is popularity. A tiny push in his overall likeability and he’d dethrone All Might.”

“I won’t be one of those fake bastards –”

“That’s not what I’m driving at. Anyone can learn to fake it. A true number one has to embody it. You’re not surrounded by shitty extras anymore, Kacchan. Try to make friends, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever. Did you make any friends?”

“As a matter of fact, I did! His name is Shinso; his quirk is so cool, he –”

“Cooler than mine?”

“No, and don’t get all jealous on me, you will always be the coolest. Anyway, he has a really similar fighting style to mine. Do you think you can handle me nerding out about his quirk for an hour or so?”

“Can you wait until we’re on the train, at least?”

“I can try!” He continued his high-energy bouncy pace to keep up with Bakugo’s determined and swift stride even as they fell into a companionable silence.

 

“I don’t know what training Aizawa will want me to do, but there’s no reason I can’t do both,” Izuku finished telling Tomura, Toga, and Kurogiri about his day.

“If it is a problem we can move on to other areas of study,” Kurogiri reassured him. “You took to first aid well enough, I’m sure anatomy or other medical pursuits would suit you just fine.”

“Some knife fighting would help round out your close combat,” Toga suggested, twirling a large knife, “and smooth over any little slip-ups.”

“Oh! I should learn some of your techniques,” Izuku agreed. He adjusted his new facemask. It was stiff and would shunt the force of most blows away from his nose while still looking like a black medical mask. Giran had tested out a few styles before settling on this one for what he called ‘daywear’. There were also a few different options for the ‘eveningwear’ version. Mostly they were different prints of toothy grins, but there was one molded like a short muzzle.

The pair squared off with Kurogiri’s permission. Toga walked Izuku through the proper way to hold a knife. “The blade is an extension of you,” she explained. “If you love someone it can bring you closer to them.”

Soon his abdomen was covered in bruises. He was fine at defending against her attacks, but was leaving himself open he went on the offensive.

“First off, you need to lead with the knife. It’s not a fist. Second,” she struck him across the ribs again as she ducked out of his way, “quit overextending yourself. It’s not a stick; it takes a lot less force to be effective!”

Izuku righted himself and rubbed his side. “Right. Show me?”

Toga demonstrated the proper form. The knife was in her right hand, the blade leading. Her fist never came above her shoulder. Her left hand hovered around the level of her neck, the palm facing her. She slashed and stabbed the air between them.

Izuku mimicked the pose and motions. While they seemed correct, something felt off to the three of them. Kurogiri stepped up behind Izuku to check his stance. The boy blushed lightly at the proximity but let him make almost unperceivable adjustments to his limbs. He could feel the shift in his center of gravity. “Oh.”

They tried again and Izuku fared better. Toga taught him a set of strikes, downward and upward slashes in an X pattern, and a jab at shoulder level. He practiced it until he could do it in his sleep. Then Toga showed him how to utilize it.

What seemed like wild swinging was a steady but furious push forward. She gained ground with every swipe and just when he thought he’d got the hang of it enough to press his own attack she rolled around him and vanished. Izuku panicked, Toga was not behind him. He whipped his shadow around to locate her. The girl giggled as it passed over her. She was lounging against the bar next to Tomura. Her presence was almost entirely masked.

“What was that?” Izuku asked excitedly. “Is it an aspect of your quirk?”

“Nope. I can teach it to you. The hardest part is not thinking.” She sauntered back over to him. “I’m too tired today, though.”

“That’s fair. It’s easy for me to forget other people’s limits.”

“It’s almost time to send you home anyway,” Kurogiri informed him. He handed Izuku a protein shake to stave off the healing muteness. His injuries were minor so the high-calorie drink would theoretically be enough.

“Do we have time for a nap?” Izuku asked after consuming the waxy, chalky drink. Toga hopped up beside him nodding.

“Take the girl with you,” Tomura said. His voice was full of irritation but his posture was relaxed. The bright silver coating the distal and middle phalanges of his new necklace occasionally caught the soft light of the bar as he sipped his drink. “Perverts.”

Toga began dragging Izuku downstairs and pulling his shirt up. He shoved her hands away. “Do you not know what a nap is?”

“A polite way to ask for sex in front of the kids?” she asked hopefully.

“No! It’s an hour or so of sleep.”

“That sounds boring.”

“Too bad,” Kurogiri said scooping her up as she tried to go back up, “now we’re going to cuddle.” He warped them straight into his bedroom. “There are pajama pants in the top drawer.” 

Toga started changing right there and Izuku retreated to the bathroom again, barely noticing the koi lantern replacing one of the bedside lamps. When he returned she was wearing the tight t-shirt Kurogiri had gotten him for their first date. Kurogiri was sitting against the headboard with Toga on his lap. He brushed out her hair while Izuku watched.

“Not to be weird but that’s hot,” he said, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Be weird,” the pair said in unison. Kurogiri’s words were soft and permissive. You are weird and I like it. Toga’s words were enthusiastic and encouraging. Please get weird, it’s fun.

Izuku chuckled and crawled onto the bed. He continued to watch as Toga’s hair was brushed and braided. Afterward, Toga snuggled against his side as Kurogiri grabbed a book to read. Her pert boobs pressing against him made it a little difficult to fall asleep but Kurogiri’s fingers carding soothingly through his hair made up for it. Izuku fell into a peaceful slumber. His shadow curled loosely around the pair, mingling freely with Kurogiri’s mist.

Kurogiri felt a light fatigue wash over him. He set his book down to ask Toga if she felt it as well but the girl had fallen asleep. It had been a long day, even if it wasn’t a particularly difficult one. The only odd thing was how suddenly it hit. And it felt like quirk exhaustion. He’d barely used his quirk.

Still, a nap sounded nice. Maybe he was just tired and being snuggled by this odd pair made him feel relaxed and safe. His eyes flicked to the large knife on Toga’s haphazard pile of clothes. He chuckled to himself as he carefully maneuvered down without waking them.

 

Izuku and Shinso had both opted to take support courses instead of Phys. Ed. with the other general education students. The workshop was loaded floor to ceiling with power tools and machine parts. The twenty students scattered about with their noses stuck in sketchbooks were all wearing black jumpsuits. Every other student had specialized goggles or multi-lensed eyewear on.

The pro hero Power Loader, or Maijima-sensei as they were instructed to call him, gave them a brief explanation of what they’d missed at the orientation, “A lot of the course work is practical. I’ll have you put together a few things, after you do the safety tests, to see where you are. Since you’re not permanent members of the support course, you’ll be teamed with one of my students. Mei, get over here! This is Mei Hatsume.”

The girl had shoulder-length pink dreadlocks and yellow cross-hair patterned eyes. “Greetings, guinea pigs!”

“Mei, no!” Maijima scolded. “Anyway,” he turned back to the boys, “take these.” He handed them their own jumpsuits. “Those jackets get caught on everything. And don’t forget to take that bracelet off. Your tests are here when you finish changing, one for each piece of equipment and a general safety one, it’s about a hundred questions in all. Then each of you needs to assemble three pieces of basic support gear and repair two. When you’re done with that, snoop through Mei’s sketchbook. The three of you will need to settle on something to build and have it done by Friday.”

The safety tests were basic and only took the boys a few minutes to complete. The assembly was a bit trickier. The first two came with instructions, and both boys handled them well enough despite the second set being light on information. The last piece was just a pile of parts; they had to guess what the finished product even was. Maijima’s mouth was an unreadable, thin line while they silently worked to piece their assignment together. It turned out to be two different styles of facemasks with particle filtration and electronic sensors.

After that, the repairs were easy for Izuku. He had some experience fixing old All Might toys he’d purchased in online auctions. Shinso had a little more trouble, mostly identifying where the problem was. Once he figured out the wiring was faulty in the second piece it was smooth sailing. Maijima nodded his approval.

They joined Mei at her workbench. Mei had her jumpsuit top off and secured at her waist. She wore a snug black tank top and heavy work gloves missing the index fingers. “We need to pick just one of my babies to work on together.”

Leafing through the sketchbook gave Izuku the impression that the only thing the designs had in common was a vague steampunk aesthetic. “Are you going anywhere with any of this or is it all just random?”

“I put all my ideas in there.”

“Is there anything you’re working toward?”

“My license.”

“Okay, so let’s pretend we have a client in mind,” Izuku suggested. “Let’s see. Non-specific energy blasts?” Shinso shook his head. “Response-based mind control?” Shinso gave him a flat glare. “Okay, okay. Mei, what’s your quirk?”

“Zoom, I can see clearly for up to five kilometers if I focus on a single point,” she answered distractedly.

“Okay. Let’s work with that. What gear would you recommend to a hero with your quirk?”

Mei looked at him. She was still and silent. Maijima came over after a moment and asked, “How did you do that? I can’t get her to sit still.”

“I think he broke her,” Shinso replied.

Suddenly Mei sprung back in full force. “Range weapons, armor, mobility.” She flipped through designs she had already.

“Restraint,” Izuku said.

Mei paused again. “A net gun?”

“I meant less is more, but sure that would be cool.”

“That’s so boring. You can find dozens of them online.”

“That armor you marked is bulky and hampers mobility. It might work for someone with super strength but otherwise, it’s useless,” Shinso added taking her sketchbook. “But it does show where the client’s priorities are.”

“Away from combat, don’t get hurt, and run away,” Izuku suggested cocking his head.

Shinso nodded. “A net gun that can shoot accurately up to five clicks would be damn impressive.” 

“Especially if it was discreet enough to blend into a costume,” he added, thinking about the recent changes made to his own outfit.

“Wrist mounted?” Mei asked.

“Or like an armguard,” Izuku corrected holding his out in front of him like he was sighting down his knuckles.

“Oh, that gives me more room to work and reduce the kick!” Mei flipped to an empty page and began sketching. The boys stayed on top of her, making suggestions as she went. While they were the last ones to submit a design to Maijima at the end of the period they were all happy with it. 

 

Izuku spotted Bakugo in the cafeteria, at a full table. He pulled Shinso over with him. “Kacchan! This is Shinso! Hitoshi Shinso, Katsuki Bakugo,” he introduced them as he dragged two chairs over. Shinso set his tray and Izuku’s bento box on the edge of the table.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” a stern-looking boy shouted while making a chopping motion with his arm.

“Why not?” Izuku asked sitting and pulling Shinso into the other chair.

“The faculty have arranged the seating this way for a reason!”

“And that is?”

“Uh… I, uh. Probably to facilitate efficient crowd flow,” he decided.

“Well, there’s still room to get by, so it’s not a big deal and I get to sit with my brother.”

There was a pause and then the blonde boy two seats down from Bakugo said, “You don’t look like twins.”

“No shit dumbass,” Bakugo snarled as Izuku laughed and said, “We have different fathers.”

“Oh,” the boy said. After another pause, he added, “Wait. Wouldn’t that still make you twins?”

Bakugo just hung his head in his hands, while Izuku replied, “We also have different mothers.”

Most of the students at their table and the one the chairs were from groaned. The blonde boy blinked and then grinned. “Ha. Okay, I get it.”

“Introduce me,” Izuku said to Bakugo, nudging him with his knee.

“Deku, Icy-hot, Ponytail, Ears, Frog-Girl, Soy Sauce,” he pointed at the four students on the opposite side of the table: a boy with white and red hair, an attractive girl with a high ponytail, an unimpressed girl with dark purple hair, a large-eyed girl with long dark green hair, and a black-haired boy with a mutation that affected his elbows. “Shitty-hair, Sparky, and Raccoon Eyes,” he continued starting with the redheaded boy next to him, moving on to the blonde boy who spoke up earlier, and ending with a pink girl that had fluffy hair and horns.

“Hey!” the invisible girl at the opposite end of the table shouted. “You forgot me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Bakugo replied coolly.

“Rude!” the girl called. “Anyway, Deku, I’m Toru.”

“I’m Izuku. Please don’t call me Deku. Only Kacchan is allowed to do that,” he said, getting out in front of the childhood nickname.

“I think it’s cute,” said a round-faced girl coming to sit with the serious boy at the next table. “It sounds like ‘you can do it’!”

“It means ‘blockhead, or useless.’ So, don’t call me that, okay?” Izuku looked stern while Bakugo lowered his eyes and hunched his shoulders minutely.

“Why is it okay for him to call you that, then?” she asked, putting a finger to her lips.

“Bakugo’s just that privileged,” Shinso replied, cutting off a repeat of the sibling conversation. “Toru, why don’t you introduce the rest, since Onii-san isn’t capable.”

Bakugo snarled. “I can do it, you shitty zombie. Todoroki, Yaoyorozu, Jiro, Asui, uh, Sero.” When he paused, the table ignored the stern boy yelling about inappropriate language. “Shitty-hair is Kirishima, I think, Sparky’s not important, and Raccoon Eyes is Ashido.”

“Ouch,” the blonde boy said. “I’m Kaminari.”

Izuku chuckled. Unlike Bakugo’s classmates, he knew that the nicknames were just easier for the bombastic boy to remember. He pulled out his notebook. “So, what’s everybody’s quirk?”

“No,” Shinso said closing it in his hands. “Eat first. You are not picking up habits from that girl.”

Izuku pouted. “There’s nothing wrong with a little enthusiasm.”

“That girl is a literal explosion waiting to happen,” he replied dryly.

“That’s why the workshop doors are so sturdy.”

“What girl?” Bakugo asked.

“Her name is Mie Hatsume. She’s in the support course. She’s a mad genius,” Izuku explained. “We’re working with her in lieu of P.E.”

“How’d you swing that?” the redhead, Kirishima, asked.

“I don’t know if they try to keep it a secret, but we’re being groomed for the Hero course. We can bump you guys out during the Sports Festival. So, the two of us are training with one of the instructors after school,” Izuku explained.

The hero students in earshot all blanched. “Aizawa already expelled someone.”

“Good,” Izuku said sunnily. “That means we only need to beat one of you.”

“Shit, Deku, when did you become such a shark?”

“Probably around the time I had to punch you in the face for being an idiot.”

“The first time or the second time?” Bakugo asked, nudging Izuku’s hand toward his bento box.

“In between, I think.” He grinned at Bakugo, enjoying the odd looks from his future classmates.

 

“I have a great idea for how to improve this,” Mie said as she started the stress test on the rubber seal they had selected.

“Good,” Shinso replied. He was measuring the pipe they were using as a barrel. “Write it down and submit it to the council for approval.”

“What?”

“This is a group project, Mie, darling. You can’t just change things,” he told her.

“But it’ll be great!” she insisted.

“Not the point,” Izuku said. He paused in his assembly of the inner fittings. “Shinso and I need time to look the idea over so that we understand it.”

“Besides, you will have six more brilliant ideas to improve this before it’s done,” Shinso placated. “Just build what we planned and we can make an upgraded version for the next project.”

“Fine, but I’m holding you to that!” Mei agreed. “Darlings.”

“Good, I’d expect nothing less.”

Notes:

I have COVID, so you get an extra chapter. I've been covering for coworkers on vacation and sick for the last month (working 3 days with 1 off over and over) but I popped positive Tuesday morning. It's been super mild so I've been mostly just bored for the last four days. So, I'm posting 'early', as much as I can without a schedule. I finished chapter 99 and am most of the way through chapter 100; which has insisted on being almost pure smut. So, if you comment this week (11/10/23), what kink/kinks do you think an inexperienced Yagi would have? Because that's what I'm stuck on. The other participant(s) know what they like and so do I. But Yagi eludes me.

Name: You Maki 'One Sheep'
Kanji: 英 牧
英 sheep, lamb
牧 pasture, grazing land
Quirk: Lullaby - The user's voice puts everyone that can hear it into a restful, dreamless, and sometimes healing sleep
Description: A level-headed hero with a devastating fighting style.
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: April 11
Height: 6'6"
Blood Type: B
Likes/dislikes: Driving, sleeveless shirts, soft pinks paired with creamy or pale yellows. Karaoke, skirts, people assuming she wants a salad.

Chapter 15: A New Normal

“How are Fried Chicken and Nothing Really?” Kayama asked coming into the otherwise silent teacher’s lounge.

“The cats are fine,” Aizawa called back dryly as he made his way across the room. “How did Sushi’s doctor appointment go?”

“Clean bill of health, but we’re switching him to a senior food, and limiting his treats based on daily activity,” Kayama replied.

Shota nodded. “How’s Dorkboy?”

“Tensei is fine, he’s a little nervous about his brother being in your class, given your reputation.”

“Pft. Iida will do fine once he learns to adapt.”

Yamada was at his station muttering to himself in English, which Yagi found to be cute.

Yagi placed the small plastic figure on the monitor of his computer. It was the first bit of personalization he’d done to his station. A little loop of tape held it in place. The figure had lime green boots, belt, and ears, a blueish jacket and pants, and a yellow cone-shaped head. If it weren’t for the grey rectangle at the neck and the orange triangles for eyes he would never have known it was supposed to be Present Mic.

“God damn it, Sho. I asked you to stop buying those!” Yamada snapped as he reached for the figure.

Yagi cupped his hands around it protectively as Aizawa strolled lazily back to his desk with a cup of coffee. He sat opposite of Yagi and stared at the offending piece of plastic for a moment before breaking out in a slightly horrified grin.

“Nem, the gnomes are back,” he said softly, as if afraid of spooking a small creature.

“Oh my god, it’s green. I don’t have a green one yet,” Kayama said leaning over Yagi’s shoulder. Her breast brushed against his ear causing the man to blush violently. “I’ll buy it from you.”

“Uh. Well, it was just a hundred yen, but I think it’s cute,” he said leaning away slightly. “I got it from the capsule machine at the convenience store down the road.”

“Well, I know where I’m spending my whims budget this week,” she replied with a wide smile.

Yamada pulled out his phone and took a picture of the offending thing. Then he offered his phone to Yagi. “Can you take a pic of the front? I need to send it to my publicist.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He took the picture. “I didn’t know it was unlicensed. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no it’s not your fault. It wouldn’t even bother me if these two weren’t trying to collect the damn things.”

Aizawa said, “Gnomes. They’re called gnomes.”

“Specifically, this line is called ‘Rock Gnomes’,” Kayama told him. “That’s how they keep from getting sued properly.”

“That and they only target mid-tier heroes,” Yamada added. “I guess I can expect another round of the kids showing up with them.”

“How many are there?” Yagi asked.

“Well, they come in electric or creamy yellow, so you can at least double the amount. The coat is usually just black for warm colors or blue for cool. The orange on the eyes is inconsistent at best, coming in at least three different shades,” Kayama explained.

“Not to mention the green series and the occasional misprint where they match the boots,” Aizawa added.

“So far between the two of us, we have, like, thirty of them.”

“Would you trade for it?”

“I guess, that’d be okay,” Yagi said. “Is there one that’s more accurate to his colors?”

 

Yamada was frequently late for homeroom, often only having time to take roll. Luckily, English was 1-C’s first class so he could easily get away with it. He would stroll in with a large coffee, a pleased grin, and an insincere apology. “Sorry, I’m late. It’s just who I am as a person.”

Izuku would often take this time to update his hero notebook. All of his classmates and teachers now had an entry. Most of the class had underwhelming quirks, from a combat standpoint. There were a pair of girls with promising mutations and a few support quirks, but none suitable for frontline fighting.

Nijiiro Ono, a white-haired boy who could make six smaller copies of himself, complained, “I’m bored.”

“Well, we could play Smash or Pass,” Kohaku Tachibana replied. His long hair was the color of a tangerine peel. If he lost focus, it would drip upwards like thick liquid light and coalesce into amber, particularly around nearby bugs. If he concentrated, he could make a block of amber the size and rough shape of a five-gallon bucket.

Michiko Kazama, a dark-skinned girl with light blue hair, and Hoshi Aki, a blond with long, full eyelashes and red eyes, perked up at this. They were both sitting on Kazama’s desk, as a collection of school supplies and make-up orbited around them lazily. “We’re in.”

Ayumu Isago was in front of them, studiously ignoring the conversation in favor of completing his homework before the start of class. His thick brow was furrowed in deep concentration and he would periodically wipe sand from it.

“So do we set down rules first? Or do this Wild-West style?” Ono asked.

“Well, I think a few ground rules should be established,” Tachibana said. “Like if we allow classmates or teachers.”

“We should,” Izuku said. “Anyone that plays should be fair game.”

“I don’t think you should do classmates that aren’t participating,” commented Hibiki Suzuki. He was a three-foot-tall wingless bat with soft, fuzzy fur, long, wide ears, black eyes, and a short muzzle full of sharp teeth. He could also echolocate; and, like most bats, wasn’t blind, just sensitive to light. His fingers were long, spindly, and ended with claws, which allowed him to cling to walls and ceilings.

“And teachers?” Aki asked. Her quirk caused her hair and nails to sparkle or shimmer with reddish light; the more intense her movement or emotion the more vibrant the color. She could transform into a ball of light and zip around, but she was intangible while she did it and it took a few seconds for her to solidify.

“Well,” Izuku said, “not allowing them would cut the field down considerably.”

“If we can’t do people we know personally, it isn’t really fun,” Ono said with a wide grin. “The scandal factor is the real thrill.”

Ushio Fukami, a tall octopus mermaid with tentacles for hair, looked up at them from behind her goggles and frowned. “Shouldn’t we show more respect for our teachers?”

“It’s not like we think anything’ll come of it,” Tachibana said. “It’s about if we find them attractive, sort of a way to start cataloging traits we like in a future partner even if we can’t articulate them yet.”

Fukami stared unblinking at him. Her amber eyes had rectangular pupils and she didn’t blink much, to begin with, but it was an intense few heartbeats as the deep purple skin on her tentacles first lightened in trepidation, then tinged to a delighted pinkish, before settling back to normal. “I’m in.”

“Gah, I feel like you were staring into my soul,” Tachibana complained. A large glob of amber rose up and solidified around a pen that was orbiting Kazama. It fell to the floor with a startling thud.

She laughed, her long hair tentacles curling and uncurling showing off the pale blue underside that matched the skin of her upper body. “If your soul cannot tolerate the scrutiny it is hardly my fault.”

“We can make this more interesting,” Mitsu Hoshino joined in with a grin. He had a simple light creation quirk that let him make small glowing orbs that floated in place or followed someone. They could be as bright as a flashlight and as big as a softball. He was currently working on producing different colors. “We could play All Might addition, where if you smash you append one of his named attacks as a qualifier; like I would Texas Smash Midnight.”

“Hey, if we’re going with Tachibana’s reasoning, do we have everyone explain their choice?” Kazama asked.

“Nah,” Ono said, “that’ll make the rounds drag. I think one person should defend their position, and it should be the minority.”

Izuku chewed his lip. “I have a crazy suggestion.”

“You know damn well we want to hear it,” Shinso said quietly next to him.

“If we, well, take this ‘beyond’ and add a third secret faction. Actual smash, like you would fight them. Then if there is contention, it’s not divided between active and passive; making pass a legitimate stance. And if your position isn’t defended you have a reason to speak up.”

“So,” Ono said raising his hand. “All in favor of Plus Ultra All Might Addition Pass or Smash?”

Seven students raised their hands to confirm their participation, including Isago who had finished his homework just before homeroom was about to start. Izuku jotted down the agreed-upon rules and made a quick list of All Might’s known named smashes ranking from Detroit to Texas.

“Since I mentioned Midnight, let’s start with her,” Hoshino suggested. His long braid glowed slightly with mirth.

Pass was in the minority, with Aki even saying, “I don’t normally go for women but I would Detroit smash that.”

Fukami defended by saying, “While the dominatrix look works for her it’s not my thing. Plus I feel like she has shoved at least one nerd into a locker.”

Aki grinned and dropped her subject, “Midoriya.”

Again, pass was in the minority, although this time with Izuku as the only holdout. “Well, this is either very flattering or very threatening. Either way, I’m just not that into me. I’m not my type. Besides with the number of times Kacchan has told me to go f… fornicate myself I just couldn’t give him the satisfaction.”

There was a smattering of laughter at that. Kazama let it die out completely before taking her turn. “For your esteemed consideration: Yamada-sensei.”

Several people said, “Scandalous,” and the entire class listened to the other students’ replies. Smash lost by a single vote. Tachibana gave an interesting defense. “My sister interned at Put Your Hands Up Radio two years ago and she got a picture with him. You have not seen Yamada-sensei until you’ve seen him with his hair down.”

“Obvious to the point of pedestrian but, All Might,” Izuku said for his turn.

After a bit of consideration, the passes were in the minority. “Don’t get me wrong, I think he’d be a great boyfriend or SO in general, but in the spirit of the game: he is massive. It’d be like making out with furniture,” Kazama said.

“Endeavor,” Shinso said dryly and without preamble.

There were more passes for him, likely due to his gruff personality. Fakaumi defended the smash position. “While my aquatic mutation might make it seem like a bad match-up, I’m not affected by heat or dry conditions any more than anyone else. His costume has a lot of mesh paneling and is quite breathable overall. My toxin would easily permeate it.” There were a few odd looks at the girl as she fiddled with her nautilus shell necklace, but no one offered up a rebuttal.

Ono offered up, “Principle Nezu,” with a mischievous grin.

Isago grinned as he defended, “He dresses on point and scars are sexy. Plus with an intelligence quirk you know he knows what he’s doing.”

Tachibana’s turn of “Recovery Girl,” was met with universal passes. “Is it because she’s old?”

“No,” Ono said, “It’s because she reminds me of my grandmother.” He shuddered. “That sweet old lady act doesn’t fool me.”

“Moving on from that childhood trauma,” Isago said, “Mirko.”

 All three girls and Izuku decided to pass. “If Midnight has shoved nerds into lockers, Mirko is the type to dump your books and make you apologize for it.”

“That’s the appeal,” Tachibana said.

“Again, dominatrix is not my thing,” Fukami replied. “Anyway, Ryukyu.”

Yamada walked in with his usual nonapologies. “Just let me take roll real quick.”

The passes and smashes were flipped this time. “She’s an elegant, soft-spoken lady –”

“You mean boring.”

“– that can kick your ass.”

“Language,” Yamada said. “It’s eight forty-one if you’re going to swear, do it in English.”

The class chuckled and turned their collective attention to their teacher.

               

The ‘net launcher’ Izuku, Shinso, and Mei submitted on Friday had a range between one meter and eight hundred meters instead of the five kilometers they’d hoped for. It also shot a 7.62 mm caliber cartridge because they hadn’t had time to get the actual net together, but the accuracy was on par with a high-powered sniper rifle. The scope was built into a pair of goggles, or Mei could operate it without them using her quirk.

The three of them had been covered in grease, scorch marks, and sweat when they’d been called to demonstrate, but it was one of the few projects that didn’t suffer catastrophic failure. It was also one of the few projects that weren’t ‘upgraded’ midway through fabrication. Maijima awarded them full marks and access to the workshops after school. Mei was elated.

She followed the pair to the training hall where they were meeting Aizawa, gushing the entire time about how amazing their baby was. “I have so many ideas for improvements. If I can use a titanium alloy for the pressure tubes and carbon fiber for the rest I can get the increase in pressure necessary to improve the range.”

“Only if you can improve the seals too,” Izuku reminded her. He stopped her outside of the changing room and directed her line of sight to the ‘boys’ sign.

Mei huffed but obeyed social convention and waited for them. When they came out, they found her showing their baby off to Aizawa. “Mei, darling,” Izuku said, “I know you’re proud – we’re proud too – but you need to breathe. Slowly. Also, we’re stealing your audience.”

“I need to get back to the workshop anyway,” she replied. “I want to have the Arm Cannon Mark II done by Monday.” Mei was off before the boys could protest.

“Right,” Aizawa said in a slow huff. “You two have your training regiments for me?” the boys handed the packets over. He told them, “Do your warm-ups while I go over these.”

Their warm-ups were roughly the same, except Izuku did a set of jumping jacks instead of using the jump rope and Shinso did twice the reps on his lunges. The pair had finished and was quietly contemplating a sparring match when Aizawa called them over.

“For the next twelve weeks this is your workout,” he handed them both a new sheet with daily workout routines and dietary instructions. “You both need to build muscle.”

“This is only an hour a day,” Izuku said with slight confusion. “I only spend seven hours at school, so eight if you count the commute, I could spend three more in the workshop with Mei, but so far I’ve only needed two hours for studying, still I allow for three just in case, and with meals and sleep that’s only sixteen hours.”

“Are you going somewhere with this babble, kid?”

“That leaves me with eight hours of nothing to do,” Izuku said in a mildly distressed tone.

“You only sleep for an hour?” Shinso asked.

“Mental fatigue doesn’t heal as quickly as physical; otherwise it would only be about five minutes,” he explained.

“Tough,” Aizawa grunted. “Most people would kill to have that problem. Read a book, or play video games, I don’t care. This is different from your endurance workout; I don’t want you overdoing it.”

Izuku nodded. “Alright.”

“Now, both of you come at me.”

With a few quick glances, the two had a rough plan hashed out. Izuku circled around to stand opposite Shinso. Aizawa grinned manically, as he turned with the boy’s movement keeping him at three o’clock. They were taking his quirk into account even though it would barely affect them. When they rushed him at the same time Aizawa leaped up and back, whipping his capture weapon to life.

The thin metal scarf snaked around in separate directions. He allowed both to feel confident that they had dodged his attack for a few steps before sweeping it around their legs and bringing them crashing to the floor.

“Uhg. Mind your surroundings,” Izuku said mockingly to himself.

Aizawa chuckled. “You had a tough instructor before? Good, this’ll go a lot smoother then. Again!”

This time Shinso was warier and hesitated to rush him. Izuku focused on dodging the scarf as he made his way to Aizawa. He was allowed to get near, but not into, melee range before he was trusted up. One wrist was wrapped tightly by the weapon pulling him off balance. When he stumbled the arm was brought behind his back and pinned to his body.

“Not bad. Both decent strategies, with enough practice. Have you figured out today’s lesson? Or do you need another round?”

Izuku grunted testing the fabric. It was as strong as steel; he couldn’t move his arm at all.

It was Shinso who answered for them, his voice as dry and dispassionate, as always, “We can’t combat your reach effectively.”

“You’re halfway there.”

“Weapons,” Izuku supplied. “A knife would be handy to get out of this right now.”

Aizawa bound his other arm with a flick of his wrist. “Wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, as a last resort weapon, or even just a utility option. But you want to teach us something with range or reach, right?”

Aizawa nodded. “You’ve given it some thought, then.” He released Izuku.

“I’ve started learning some knife fighting,” he said honestly.

“Good. I’ll test you on that down the line. For now, start thinking about ranged options.” Aizawa tossed his capture scarf aside. He gestured for the boys to come at him again.

Izuku gestured to Shinso, who nodded and began circling around. The pair ran at Aizawa again. Izuku came in low, trying to sweep his legs. Shinso came in high, looking to land a simple strike. Aizawa sidestepped both in one fluid motion. He brought an elbow up busting Shinso’s nose. The boy staggered back grunting. Using his momentum, he swung around to kick Izuku.

Izuku accepted the blow, grabbing Aizawa’s leg. The force rocked his compact frame but he held on. Aizawa closed the gap and grabbed Izuku by the back of his head. His knee came up with surprising force. The air left Izuku’s lungs. Only months of drills kept him going.

Izuku leaned into Aizawa and grabbed his thigh and shoulder. He rotated them both dragging the teacher off balance and to the ground. In the back of his mind, an alarm bell went off at the chuckle Aizawa gave. Undeterred, Izuku went for an armbar.

Aizawa rolled up onto his shoulders, lifting his leg and hooking his calf on Izuku’s neck. He shoved the boy down while holding one arm. The reversal was textbook, and powerful. Aizawa’s hold was iron-tight. “Tap.”

Part of him knew that this was an order from his instructor and not goading from his opponent but Izuku refused anyway. His elbow creaked ominously as Aizawa added pressure. Izuku attempted to jerk his elbow off of Aizawa’s hip but the man’s heels dug into his other side, locking him in place.

Aizawa grimaced as he overextended Izuku’s elbow. Izuku kicked at him and tried to pry his hand away with his free arm. He could feel the bone bending. The thick snap seemed to startle Aizawa as he released Izuku’s arm immediately.

Izuku rolled away and kipped up to assess the damage. Finding it was only out of socket Izuku threw a straight punch out to the side to relocate it. He gave the elbow a test flex and was rewarded with a burst of pain and a loud pop. His arm back in the socket Izuku shifted into a fighting stance once more.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Aizawa muttered. Aloud he lectured, “Reckless idiot. Are you planning on breaking your bones and relying on someone else to save your useless body?” Izuku flinched at the word ‘useless,’ but didn’t interrupt.

Shinso, however, did. “Stop it,” he snapped.

Aizawa quirked his eyebrow at the bloodied student but said nothing.

He stepped between them. “Hey, Midoriya, you okay?”

 “Uh, yeah,” he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. “It’s no big deal. I heal pretty quickly.”

“You’re trembling.”

Izuku turned to him fully. “No, I’m not. I’m regulating my breathing and tensing and relaxing my muscles to dump the adrenaline out of my system so my healing will kick on.”

“Your quirk may allow you to heal faster,” Aizawa cut in, “but you would still be incapacitated in the field. You are not invulnerable.”

The throbbing pain in his arm and tightness in his chest gave credence to his instructor’s words. “It wasn’t my intention. I misjudged the hold.” He ran his hand over his forearm. “The bone could take more force, but the pain from that masked the pressure on the joint.”

“You shouldn’t be risking a break like that in the first place!” Aizawa snapped.

Izuku made to retort but he had been regulating his breathing and flexing various muscles. His regeneration was active and he’d done more talking than eating at lunch so he was unable to speak. He held up a finger, to indicate Aizawa should wait. At the teacher’s raised eyebrow he tapped his mouth followed by his elbow.

Aizawa furrowed his brow. “You can’t talk, because of your elbow?”

Izuku started to shake his head, then nodded. He turned to head for his bag and gave an audible, “Eep!” when Aizawa canceled his quirk. The chill of wicked away energy vanished, and the full-body thrum of his quirk stopped. Pain lanced through his body fresh as if the injuries were just occurring. The worst part was a sudden tingling numbness that washed over him as if he were filled with tepid bathwater. He couldn’t feel his shadow and had to resist the urge to look for it.

He whipped his head straight again – when had he turned it? – to Aizawa within arm’s reach of him, talking to him, “–doriya. Are you okay?” He felt cold and alive and the smooth lacquer of the hardwood floor beneath his shadow. Izuku nodded even as he dropped into a sitting position, partly to hide any odd behavior from his shadow and partly due to the sudden light-headedness.

“I’m going to cancel your quirk again so you can speak, is that okay?” Aizawa asked.

 Izuku shook his head rapidly. It did nothing to settle the dizziness he was feeling. He gestured at his bag and pantomimed writing.

Shinso grabbed it, his face still a bloody display that would have had Toga crushing on the taciturn boy. “I should teach you sign language.” It was strange to hear his voice in such a nasally tone.

Izuku nodded as he fished out his notebook. He typed quickly. PLEASE don’t do that again. That was worse than the dislocation. He showed the message to Aizawa as he dug out a water bottle and a packet of protein powder.

“Ick. Don’t bother with that trash. Here.” He handed Izuku a pouch drink that was free of labeling, “It’s better for you anyway.” He turned to Shinso. “You can head to the nurse’s office if you need to.”

“Nah, I’ll just get cleaned up. It looks worse than it is.” Shinso headed to the bathroom.

“So, that hurt?” Aizawa asked crouching down.

Izuku nodded and then brought his hand up in a so-so gesture. He finished the pouch quickly. It was sweet and tasted like muscat grapes. Taking a breath, he hummed experimentally. “It’s not so much that that hurt in and of itself, but my quirk makes pain less immediate, I guess. I still feel it, but it’s not urgent; if that makes sense.”

“Not to me, but keep talking anyway.”

Trembling slightly due to the chill Izuku explained, “Since my quirk activated I haven’t been afraid of getting hurt. And while I still feel the pain it’s never at the front of my mind. When you canceled it all I could focus on was the pain.”

“Are you cold?”

“A little chilly, but that’s a byproduct of my quirk. It uses my body heat and caloric intake to fuel the rapid healing.” Izuku gave in and wrapped his arms around himself. He felt someone step into his shadow. “Usually, I just have bruises from sparing, but one time I fractured my shin. That was worse than this. That took a whole day’s worth of calories and twelve hours to recover. This should be fine in as little as six, and I probably wouldn’t have gone mute if I had eaten more of my lunch.”

“Your quirk is making you reckless,” Aizawa picked out the important piece of information.

Izuku started to tell him ‘No, that wasn’t it,’ but he stopped and gave the statement some thought. “It might be exacerbating an existing issue,” he muttered.

“Your already reckless behavior got worse when your quirk got stronger?”

“Oh, I guess I don’t really think of it as having always been there,” Izuku said.

“Body awareness exercises should help.” He smirked. “Congratulations, you have one less hour a day to fill.”

“This explains why you like Mei,” Shinso said from behind him. “You aren’t properly afraid of her.”

Izuku laughed. “I grew up with Kacchan bullying me. Mei’s harmless, especially if you can get her to focus.”

Shinso shook his head. “You agreed with me when I said she was an explosion waiting to happen.”

“And you’re not wrong. But with just a few precautions it’s perfectly safe to be in her proximity.”

“Ballistic shielding?”

“If you’re a wuss, yes.”

Aizawa gave a bark of laughter. “Alright, you two, time to talk weapons.”

Shinso spoke up immediately, “I want to learn to use the capture scarf.”

Izuku stayed silent, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Aizawa raised an eyebrow at him. With a sigh, Izuku said, “I’ve been considering the question for a while, actually. I don’t have strong feelings about any particular weapon, and I’ve just been learning what was available to me. I was thinking about the basic ninja starter pack if for nothing else than the versatility.”

“Good. I’ll get you set up with some throwing knives and a target. Shinso’s picked a hard path and will need more supervision.”  With a wide, almost manic, grin he added, “Time to make you both hate me.”

Izuku was accustomed to training a move into muscle memory once he could do it correctly. Whereas Kurogiri’s teaching philosophy seemed to be ‘Do it until you can’t get it wrong,’ Aizawa’s was more ‘Do it until you can’t remember a time when you didn’t have this skill.’

Notes:

I added a scene and did a bit of editing to the last chapter for some clarity. Nothing big or really plot-relevant.

Bio Cards
Name: Michiko Kazama
Kanji: 道子 風間
道 Way, 子 Child
風 Wind/Style, 間 Among/Between
Quirk: Orbit – Can place small objects (up to 5 lbs.) on an orbital path around her.
Description: A typical pretty high school girl
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: August 22
Height: 5’8”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Gossip, Fashion/makeup, Romance Novels.

Name: Hibiki Suzuki
Kanji: 響 鈴木
響 Sound/ Echo
鈴 Bell, 木 Wood/Tree
Quirk: Bat– Has a bat-like head, wide ears, short muzzle full of sharp teeth, fur-covered body, and long, spindly fingers ending in claws.
Description: A timid Honduran white bat mutation
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: January 1
Height: 4’8”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Fruit and fried grasshoppers, Music, Climbing.

Name: Kohaku Tachibana
Kanji: 琥珀 橘
琥珀 Amber
橘 Orange/Tangerine
Quirk: Amber Trap – Hair becomes liquid amber, floats, and hardens around objects, may activate if not focusing.
Description: An elegant and mysterious looking boy that is actually very friendly and straightforward.
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: April 6
Height: 6’1”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Going to the beach, Cooking, Hanging out at the mall.

Chapter 16: A Night in the Life

As promised, Bakugo was waiting for him at the entrance to the school. Izuku waved. “I’m sorry it took so long!”

“Nah, it’s your chance to get into the hero course so it’s worth the wait,” he replied as they fell into step.

“I’ve got my work cut out for me. Aizawa-sensei gave me a new training regiment, and I’m going to be working with Mei in the support department after school most days. So you probably shouldn’t wait for me.”

“I can do my homework in the library, and you can come get me when you’re done,” Bakugo corrected.

“Yeah, okay.” Izuku grinned. “So, how was your day?”

“All Might is teaching.”

“No way! That’s awesome. I’m so jealous!” He tried to act surprised but he may have oversold it as Bakugo eyed him.

“You knew,” he said flatly.

Giving a sheepish grin he admitted, “Yagi-san let it slip. He swore me to secrecy though. How was it?”

“We got to do combat exercises; teams of three, one group of four. We had to either protect or capture a dummy bomb. The foursome lost because the Pervy Grape grabbed Frog Girls boob. His team didn’t protect him from her wrath. He might still be taped to the ceiling.”

“Did you have fun?”

“I won.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

He shook his head. “Not really. But I’m glad you did well.” For a change, Izuku listened while Bakugo excitedly explained his day. He smiled at the other boy’s enthusiasm, glad that he could open up about his excitement over learning from All Might.

They parted ways at the station, each hurrying home for dinner. Izuku jogged to his apartment. He let himself in. The smell of steamed clams greeted him. He made his way into the living room before greeting his mother. “I’m home.”

“How was your day?”

“Good. I got a new training schedule. I’ll be at the school until six every day from now on.”

“Oh? I guess your hard work is never done.”

“Nope. But Sunday is still all yours.”

“Good.”

Izuku put his bag in his room and came back out to set the table. The pair had a quiet dinner, chatting amiably about their respective days, their plans, and anything interesting that happened. He did not tell his mother about his quirk being erased. 

After dinner, Izuku went to his room and did his homework, which took just under two hours. Glancing at the clock he saw that it was a little before nine. Kurogiri would be waiting for his text. He messed up his bed so it looked slept in. Then he shed his school uniform and threw on a pair of sweats and a tee shirt saying ‘Smash’ in the font used for All Might’s agency logo. He didn’t even bother with socks.

After checking that his mother was getting ready for bed, he slipped his shoes on and snuck out the door. He locked it and texted Kurogiri. Once downstairs he headed to the playground across the street. A portal was waiting for him in the head of the octopus-shaped slide.

“I wonder how aware you are of your gates,” he mused stepping through. He froze as he saw a large black-skinned creature hunched over in the corner of the bar. It was larger than All Might, with an exposed brain and a bird-like beak.

“Aware enough to open a small portal and expand it only when you approach.” Kurogiri handed him his costume case, breaking him from his daze. “Get dressed, love.”

Izuku headed into the bathroom to change. Glancing at himself in the mirror he felt like a stranger was watching him. He stripped his shirt off and applied the temporary hair dye. Next, he washed his hands and put in the contacts. His eyes went from brilliant green to startling amber. He shed his pants and pulled on the padded body suit. It added about ten pounds to his compact frame. He pulled on his favorite pair of jeans from the case; they had clearly belonged to Tomura at one point and were worn from heavy use. The frayed pant legs were tucked into his boots. After checking to make sure the dye was dry, he pulled on a snug t-shirt and the jacket. His ears went on next, then his facemask. The wide vampiric smile dominated his face. Finally, he pulled his gloves on.

He looked in the mirror again. Stray stared back at him, strong and menacing. Izuku felt comfortable in his skin for the first time all day. He walked out of the bathroom with his collar in hand.  “Kurogiri, help me put this on?”

As Kurogiri did, Tomura groused, “Did you see the newspaper?” He waved the evening addition at them.

“No, but I can imagine what’s got you upset. All Might is teaching at Yuuei.” He curled his shadow around Kurogiri’s fingers in thanks.

“All Might is teaching at Yuuei!” Tomura growled. He scratched his neck lightly, his fingers grazing the cord to his new favorite necklace. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Kacchan told me after school. Should I have texted you?” he asked innocently while running his shadow over Toga. She looked up from where she had been cheating at a game of go-fish to grin at him.

“Just. We’re going to kill him.” Tomura said.

“With that thing?”

“Yes. Nomu has been specifically designed to beat him,” Tomura gloated.

“I still think that’s not the way to go about it, but I’ll do my job in a fight,” Izuku replied.

“Fine,” Tomura agreed. “We need to find All Might’s schedule first, but other than that and getting a few flunkies, I’ve got a solid plan.”

“He doesn’t teach every day. Today was the first time.” He shrugged. “I might be able to sneak into the teacher’s lounge, but I’d have no idea which desk was his.”

“We have a plan for that,” Kurogiri said. “We’re not ready to risk your position.”

“Okay. So what’s the plan?” Izuku asked. He tucked himself under Kurogiri’s arm, instead of taking his usual seat.

“Are you feeling well?” Kurogiri gripped his chin and tilted his head up to look at him.

“I’m fine,” the boy said. When Kurogiri didn’t release his face, he added, “Physically.”

“What happened?”

“Aizawa used his quirk on me during training.” He paused, thinking of the best way to describe it.

“Your injuries hurt,” Sensei’s voice came through the TV.

“Yeah,” he replied and Kurogiri let go. “But it was more than that. I felt… I don’t know, numb at the same time. Can you be in excruciating pain and numb at the same time?”

“Yes, I’ve found that shock often follows a severe injury,” Sensei said warmly.

“It was just a dislocated elbow,” Izuku complained. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It would have also canceled your Shadow Bind. That would be like losing a limb.” Sensei’s voice carried an amused tone.

“So, I might have to deal with that every time?”

“You’ll get passed it with practice,” Sensei assured him. If it weren’t coming through a tinny TV speaker, Izuku would have guessed that the calming effect his words had was due to a quirk. “Just relax and spend some time with the Nomu, so he gets accustomed to you.”

“Alright,” he agreed as if there was another option. Izuku stretched his shadow out and ran it over the Nomu’s thick calf. The creature barely twitched. He gauged the size of its legs. Its calves were half again the size of his thigh and its thighs were bigger around than his torso. “It’s not very responsive.”

“It will protect Tomura, and obey his orders,” Sensei said.

“What are our other goals for the mission?” the boy asked.

“What do you mean?” Tomura asked.

“Like, killing All Might will get you a three-star completion, but what’s the minimum to consider the operation a success?”

“I hadn’t thought about that.”

“What else do you want? You kind of implied that you’re looking for social upheaval. What specifically?”

Tomura was silent for a long time. “I hate everything. I want to destroy it all.”

Izuku considered this. “Well, hmm. I suppose we can start with hero culture and work out from there. You definitely take particular umbrage with that. And it does need changing. Rescue heroes should be valued more, and spectacle less.” After a moment of thought, he said, “Yuuei is the top-ranked hero school in Japan, and has produced the most high-ranking pro heroes so attacking its reputation would only be logical. But that’s why you want All Might’s schedule: to plan the attack at the school.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“N-no. I would ask that you try not to kill any students, but if they attack you I know you won’t hold back.”

“Good,” Tomura said.

“However,” Izuku continued, “Maiming a few would suit your goals. It would have to be injuries that Recovery Girl can’t fully heal, too.”  He began mumbling about which students would be the best targets.

“Hey, out loud where we can hear you!” Tomura rasped.

“Sorry. I-I have a pretty good idea of the quirks and backgrounds of the class 1-A students. You – we will want to target only two or three of them, to maximize sympathy. But we shouldn’t hurt them so much they have to quit the hero course.”

“Why not?”

“Because that would take them out of the limelight. We want the damage to be seen. I can make up a list of who I think are the best candidates, but it will really be up to opportunity.”

“The public needs to see them suffer,” Tomura realized with a grin.

“While under the protection of Yuuei.”

“Wow, Stray-kun, when you go, you go hard,” Toga praised him.

Izuku blushed. “I think I’m getting the hang of being evil. I just hope we can incapacitate Kacchan quickly, I don’t think I could hurt him.”

“I will take care of that,” Kurogiri said, giving him a squeeze. “So, you have your training from Aizawa?”

“Yeah, it’s basic strength training. It’s a bit more intensive than what All Might was having us do, but it’s only an hour a day.”

“Well, I have you for the next eight hours. What would you like to do?”

“Honestly, I need to work with Shadow Bind. I spend so much time pretending it’s not there that I don’t think to use it in a fight, Toga promised to teach me that stealth technique, and Aizawa wants me to do body awareness exercises because my quirk makes me reckless.”

“I agree.” Kurogiri pulled him from under his arm to stand in front of him. “Why don’t you start with Toga and I’ll look into some exercises.”

“Actually, a lot of what I’m going to show him will help with that,” Toga said. “So the first thing is walking.” She stood up to demonstrate. The Nomu jerked its head in her direction. “Tomura get your bird.”

“He just thinks you’re a threat,” Tomura replied, waving it off.

“Whatever,” she sneered. She was a threat; she just wasn’t interested in hurting Tomura right now. “Anyway, what you do is step with the fourth toe first, then middle, and smoothly roll down to the heel. Also, tiptoeing is useful up close.” Toga spent two hours teaching Izuku how to walk correctly. It was slow going, each step deliberate. She had him focus on the strain in each muscle from holding his body in place. By the end, when Toga got bored and switched to knife fighting, he could hold himself perfectly still in any part of the movement.

After an hour of knife fighting, Kurogiri intervened. “My turn.” He led Izuku downstairs to his room. “Take your shoes off, and make yourself comfortable on the bed.”

The boy removed his gloves first, tucking them into his boots when he got them off. After some deliberation, he arranged himself in the middle of the bed sitting up with his legs stretched out. He had room to lie back if he needed it.

Kurogiri sat at the foot of the bed facing him. He caressed the tips of Izuku’s toes, then ran his finger down the top of each. “Distal, middle, and proximal phalanges; the bones in your toes.” He ran his thumb over each muscle on the top of his foot. “Addutor hallucis, flexor hallucis brevis, flexor minimi brevis.” He applied enough pressure that the boy could feel the shape of each muscle. He made him spread, flex, and wiggle his toes while keeping his ankle still. Kurogiri ran his finger down the bones in his foot. “The first through fifth metatarsal bones.”

He continued this for the rest of the bones and muscles in Izuku’s foot. Kurogiri repeated the process on the other foot before having him flex and rotate his ankle. He moved up the leg, naming and rubbing each part. Hands, arms, and head were given the same treatment.

“Open,” he commanded when he reached the jaw.

Cheekily, the boy opened his mouth without moving his facemask.

Yellow eyes wafting in a way that spoke of grinning, Kurogiri pressed his finger and thumb firmly against the bottom rear molars on each side. He slid his fingers forward as he named them. “Molars, premolars, canines, and incisors.” He repeated this for the top. He pressed his fingers into the open, but covered mouth, to just pass his first knuckle. “Tongue.”

Izuku playfully licked the intruding digit.

Kurogiri held his gaze for a moment before retracting his finger. “Let’s not get too distracted.” He lowered his hand to his chest. He traced each bone and caressed each muscle. “Turn over.” The same treatment was given to his back.

“This is wonderful, and a great anatomy lesson, but I’m not sure it’ll help keep me from being reckless,” he said, dreamily.

A light swat was delivered to his butt. “Then we will just have to do it again and again until you value your body as much as I value its contents.”

Izuku chuckled. “I have no issue with that. And I love you too.”

“Good. Now, stand at the foot of the bed.” He got up to allow the boy to move.

Obediently, he moved. He gave Kurogiri a questioning glance, but only got an amused look in return. Once he was in position, Kurogiri began trailing his fingers across the shadow he cast on the bed. Izuku responded by arcing his shadow into the touch. Misty fingers mingled with the absence of light made corporeal.

“Relax. Just enjoy the touch for a moment.” He began tracing the edge of the shadow. He traced down the center as he had for Izuku’s spine. “This is just as much a part of you as any other limb. It may not contain any bones or muscles but it has feeling and strength.” He reached into his bedside table and dropped a grip strengthener onto the bed. “It’s two hundred pounds of torsion. See if you can squeeze it.”

Izuku wrapped his shadow around it. He shifted it so that only the handles were wrapped in his shadow. He squeezed slowly adding pressure as he went. It was already a vast improvement from his first attempts to use it. He could gauge and adjust the strength he used here. It was hard to squeeze, but this one had fifty more pounds of tension than the one he was currently using for his hands.

“Good. Now, whatever else you do for our remaining four hours, keep that up.” Kurogiri pulled Izuku into a hug. “What would you like to do?”

“We could go for a run,” he suggested.

“Very well,” Kurogiri replied.

“Can I come, too?” Toga asked from the door.

“Only if you can keep up,” Kurogiri answered playfully. Izuku put his shoes and gloves back on and they went up to the roof where Kurogiri explained the exercise. “A lap of the block should only take ten minutes. While Stray knows the area, he can’t stop his strength training. I will pick six checkpoints, starting now.”

He warped away. Both teens scanned the rooftops for him. Kurogiri was nowhere to be seen. Izuku followed the course from his first outing. His target was two buildings away; he scanned the alleys below as he went. He heard a chuckle as he vaulted over the stair access of the next building. Toga beat him to the checkpoint, as he had to double back.

“Mind your surroundings,” Kurogiri chided as he gated away.

The pair raced across the dozen rooftops; running across pipes, ledges, and railings with swift, near-silent steps. Both teens were headless of gravity as they vaulted, scaled, and soared over the various obstacles.

Kurogiri led them down to street level twice but ended the run with the pair neck and neck as they leaped from the roof of the two-story building next to Kuroi ba and scrambled up the wall. Both were panting as they pulled themselves onto the roof and jogged to Kurogiri.

“Excellent,” he praised the pair. “I’ll make your favorites.”

“Hey, Toga-chan, what is your favorite?” Izuku asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” she told him. “I only like what you like.”

“That’s not true. And it’s not fair!” he protested.

“Not fair?”

“You get to know everything about me, but the only things I know about you are from training,” the boy explained. “I think if you actually like me you should want me to get to know you too.”

“Stray-kun, do you really want to get to know me?”

“Well, yeah,” he said following Kurogiri down the stairs. “We’re going to be together for the next three years, hopefully, more. At the bare minimum, I want us to be friends, so we need to know each other. And you keep flirting with me, which I don’t mind as much as I thought I would, so I definitely want to get to know you better.”

“But what if you don’t like me?”

“Toga-chan, you’ve met Kacchan. If I like him you should be fine.”

“I,” she hesitated. “People think I’m creepy.”

“You are creepy. I like that just fine.” He grinned and turned to look at her. “I mean I like Tomura as a friend after all.”

“Ramen,” she said with all the weight of someone confessing murder.

When they reached the bar, Kurogiri went into the kitchen and Toga stole Izuku’s barstool. Not wanting to intrude on Tomura’s personal space, he turned to face the nomu. “Tomura, get your bird?”

The nomu had stood up again and taken a step toward Toga. Tomura waved it off again and it sat, staring at Toga. Izuku approached like he would a stray dog, slowly, calmly, hands out, palms up.

The creature chuffed at him but didn’t take its eyes off Toga. The boy tapped its beak with one figure. He hopped back, much to Tomura’s amusement. Izuku approached again when it didn’t move. He ran a finger across the beak. He gently poked the brain-looking matter. It was smooth and dry, but spongy and soft.

Its eyes snapped to Izuku’s finger. He resisted the urge to flinch backward. He slid his finger down to its chest. Its eyes returned to Toga. The blackish-blue flesh was warm, thin, and stretched tight over bulging muscles. There were jagged red scars where the skin had obviously torn.

“Looks painful,” Izuku commented.

“Nomu can’t really feel it,” Tomura explained. “Not now that it’s stabilized.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “That’s good, I guess.”

“Don’t think too hard about it. It’s barely sentient,” Tomura dismissed his obvious concern. “Feeling pain wasn’t high on the priority list of things it should do.”

“I mean, that makes sense, but … it still seems cruel.”

“Nomu isn’t in pain. What’s cruel about that?” Tomura asked.

“He’s a person right?” Izuku asked.

“No,” Sensei replied. “Unlike you and Kurogiri, this creature is just that, a creature. Dr. Ujiko did most of the work, I just gave it a few extra quirks. Since it had no mind to preserve, I was free to go overboard.” His voice took on the whimsical quality of someone indulging in a niche hobby. “I would say it’s like Frankenstein’s monster but he had a mind of his own.”

Izuku was staring at Kurogiri, who had brought out dinner for the four of them. “You gave Kurogiri his quirk?”

“Quirks, actually. Like with you it’s taken more than one to get exactly what I was looking for,” he explained. “Although with his they have… merged into a single quirk.”

“He said you saved his life, but you make it sound like you were experimenting on him,” Izuku said, carefully keeping his tone light.

“His is a generous way to put it,” Sensei replied, not seeming to take any offense to the implication. “He was in worse shape when he was brought to me than you were. I needed someone to look after Tomura. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

 “So you could trust him right away?” Izuku asked unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. Sensei made a small humming noise but otherwise gave no reply. “Your ability to inspire loyalty is impressive.”

“You’re very clever, Stray-kun,” Sensei told him. His tone was calm and almost pleased. “Of course, I ensured Tomura’s safety. He was only a child at the time. I trust him to inspire loyalty of his own now. I haven’t made any alterations to you that weren’t discussed with him first.”

The implication hung heavy in the air. The Nomu sat forgotten in favor of this new, potentially damming information. Izuku’s gaze drifted from Kurogiri to Tomura. I always destroy the things that I hate. But Izuku remained. I don’t need you to kill for me. He didn’t need him, at all really. Maybe you can hold them while I disintegrate them. But he wanted him around. Tomura had shared both his passion for video games and his experience with panic attacks. He’d slowly let Izuku in.

The boy smiled. “I’m glad he chose to trust me.” He moved over to the bar and sat next to Tomura. “I can’t wait to unlock his tragic back story.”

“I am not the hard mode character on a dating sim,” Tomura groused. “I’m not joining your little harem.”

“Good,” Izuku replied bumping Tomura’s shoulder lightly with his own. He felt the other boy tense but he didn’t react otherwise. “Because this is more like a tactical role-playing game, and you’re the protagonist.”

“You say the nicest things,” Tomura said. “But realistically it’ll be more like a tower defense game and we’re the bad guys.”

“Except we have a better chance of winning,” Izuku said with a grin. “I may not like it, but causing damage to the system is the fastest way to change it.”

“Who else can we expect to encounter?” Kurogiri asked.

“Well, Aizawa’ll be there if we target class 1-A.”

“Should we go after a different class then?” Toga asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t have any information on any of them,” he admitted.

“Better the devil you know than the one you don’t,” Tomura said. “Who’s on your shortlist to target among the students?”

“Uraraka is from a middle-class background, so most people can relate to her. Iida and Todoroki are from legacy families, so there’s the weight of history and the familiarity of fame there. The physical attackers like Ojiro, Sato, and Kirishima will be affected the most by an injury. And any of the girls, really, even though it’s sexist, people will have more sympathy for them. Especially if it leaves scars.”

“Anyone you particularly dislike? In case we need to take a hostage, or make a statement?” Kurogiri asked.

“Not really, I only see them at lunch and mostly the same ten people. Oh! Kacchan was saying that one guy sexually harassed one of the girls. He called him Pervy Grape, so that would be… Minoru Mineta!” Izuku briefly launched into an explanation of his quirk. “It’s got so many utility uses! Field control, mobility, restraint.”

 “The school will be crawling with press when you go back on Monday,” Tomura changed the subject before he could get going. “We’re going to use them as cover when we breach security.”

“Are you going to hurt anyone?”

“Monday is more of a stealth mission,” Tomura assured him.

He nodded. “So we get the schedule and plan the specifics.  I assume on relatively short notice?”

“Preferably his next class,” Tomura agreed.

“So, us, Nomu, and some cannon fodder?”

“We can do a little better than cannon fodder, with your quirk analysis. Even if we don’t know the location, we know the players.”

“Kind of. I mean, Kacchan seems to hate everyone, but he would work best with Kirishima or Todoroki. He wouldn’t have to worry about his blasts hurting them. If we can get Kaminari in either a water hazard or an insulated area, that would put a damper on his electrocution. Asui can’t stand heat or cold.” Izuku could think of easy counters for at least half of the students in 1-A. “Shinso and I talk about it a lot, in preparation for the sports festival.”

“Enough, the food is getting cold. We still have plenty of time,” Kurogiri scolded them. He smiled as the three younger villains dug into their food; each stealing food from the others as if they’d been friends forever.

Izuku leaned forward and stole a bite of steamed asparagus straight from Kurogiri’s chopsticks. “How is everything you cook so good?”

“Your praise is as welcome as it is delusional.”

“Nah, he’s right, you’ve never served us anything we didn’t enjoy,” Toga insisted.

“It’s years of practice,” Tomura explained. “He wasn’t this good when I was a kid.”

“Well, I’m glad you were the guinea pig,” she replied.

Tomura responded by reaching over Izuku and stealing a boiled egg half from her bowl. “Hey!”

“Here, try this,” Izuku said, offering her a bite of his katsudon.

After they ate, Izuku and Kurogiri retired for a nap. He changed in the bathroom again. When they curled into the bed together, he snuggled into Kurogiri’s chest. His shadow cocooned around them swirling with Kurogiri’s mist. Kurogiri read, not falling asleep this time.

When he woke, the boy opted to stay in his sleep pants. He packed his costume away. For the remaining two hours, the foursome played cards at the bar. Tomura sipped a whiskey sour.

When he was dropped off at his mother’s apartment, Izuku gave Kurogiri a quick peck on the lips, and said, “See you tonight.”

“Nine o’clock,” Kurogiri replied. “Sixteen long hours.”

“Nah, I’ll hang out with Kacchan for like four hours in the afternoon so I can come home, er, come back early. L-like at five or six.” He blushed.

“Perfect,” Kurogiri purred. He stayed to watch Izuku until he disappeared into the apartment. Then he warped home.

Chapter 17: Gearing Up

Yagi set his phone down after reading the text from Izuku. The boy had something to show him and he was frankly glad for the distraction. It had been a long Saturday grading papers in the teacher’s lounge, but Yagi was almost finished.

The only other person there was Aizawa, filling out evaluations for the first battle exorcise of his class. Late afternoon was slipping into evening as the pair worked in silence. Occasionally, Aizawa would stand and shuffle to the coffee pot for a refill.

Yamada and Kayama had told Yagi that Aizawa just took some time to warm up. That he was nice in his own way but Yagi found him to be prickly at the best of times and refrained from asking him questions about grading the third year’s short essays. Instead, he would Google the answer or failing that post the question to the teacher’s message board.

At nearly six thirty Aizawa asked, “I’m almost done, do you need any help?”

Yagi flinched at the sudden words but managed to stutter out a coherent reply. “Uh. No, no, I’ve only got one more myself. I think I’m actually getting the hang of this.”

“Want to grab a beer after, then?” Aizawa offered, stretching.

“Oh, uh, I can’t drink,” Yagi confessed, his hand subconsciously moving to the massive scar on his ribs.

Aizawa was quiet for a moment before breaking out in an almost manic grin. “Perfect, me neither.”

“Then why did you ask?” Yagi said confused. 

“It’s the sociable thing to do,” Aizawa replied. He stood and stepped over to Yagi’s station.

“You don’t seem the social type,” he pointed out. Their interaction had been minimal, but never positive.

“I’m not. So if I offer to spend time, I mean it,” Aizawa said. “What do you want to do instead?”

“Uh, well, I do need to eat,” Yagi said checking the time. “We could get food.”

“You’ve got restrictions?” Aizawa asked, nodding to where his hand still clutched his side.

“Yeah, a lot actually.” Yagi blushed and jerked his hand away.

“I could cook. It might be easier,” Aizawa offered. “There’s a market not that far from here.”

“All right. That means if I hurry with this, we can meet young Midoriya at the gate before we leave,” Yagi said with a bright smile.

“Still spending time with my student?” Aizawa said with a frown.

“For some reason, I feel the need to remind you that he’s Yamada’s student.”

“Not the point.”

“I’ve already explained this to you,” Yagi pointed out. He turned back to his essay.

Aizawa looked over his shoulder. He pointed at several lines. “That’s wrong, that’s wrong, and that is exceptionally wrong. Is this Hattori’s?”

“Yes,” Yagi said, checking the name.

“Email him that he submitted his rough draft, again. Let him know he can still get full marks if it’s in your inbox by tonight.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“He’s a good kid. He just needs to learn to take his time,” Aizawa said ruefully. Yagi sent the email and the pair went to meet Izuku at the front gate. 

“Hey, Yagi-san. Aizawa-sensei! Hello! I didn’t know you were here,” Izuku greeted them. He was wearing a sweater that said ‘Nap Queen’ and had a picture of Midnight on it. He was carrying two packages. “Here,” he thrust them at Yagi, “This is from Kacchan, for All Might, and this one is for you. Thank you for helping us train for the entrance exam.” The boy stood nervously waiting for Yagi to take the gifts.

“Ah, t-thank you. You really didn’t have to,” he replied taking the packages.

“The one for you needs to go in the freezer soon,” Izuku explained.

“Oh?” Yagi stopped squeezing the gift from Bakugo to examine the other box. It was cold. “Hold this for me,” he said passing the soft package to Aizawa. Yagi carefully removed the tasteful wrapping paper; blue with white and gold stars. You’d never know it was All Might themed if you didn’t see it bundled in the three-pack it came in. He thought it might be a clever inside joke on Izuku’s part.

That done, he held a plain white thirty-two-ounce container in his hands. Written on the lid in clear tidy lettering were words too beautiful to be true: Seedless Strawberry Ice Cream. Below that was the very simple recipe. Strawberries, honey, agave, lemon juice, vanilla, and heavy whipping cream were all that were needed. That and time. 

“This. This is amazing. Thank you.” He clutched the cold container to his chest briefly. 

“Are you crying?” Aizawa asked.

“N-no, I just. I haven’t had strawberry ice cream in almost six years. It’s my favorite.” He turned and grabbed the other package out of Aizawa’s hands. “I love strawberries, but I can’t eat the seeds.”

“Huh. That’s good to know,” Aizawa said. “We should drop this off at your place before we go shopping.”

“You still want to go?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” Aizawa said flatly.

“It’s just –”

“I’m a bit protective of the students. It wouldn’t be the first time someone overstepped,” Aizawa said. “And Midoriya is a prime target. Underwhelming quirk, plain appearance, no regard for his own wellbeing, eager to please. And I mean, I’ve seen the training regiment you had him on,” Aizawa said letting a bit of venom in his voice at the end.

“Oh,” Yagi felt the pit of his nonexistent stomach drop. “I hadn’t realized it was that bad, we were only meeting once a week.”

Izuku covered his face with his hand. “It’s not! I had an actual trainer! He only accounted for the strength training. And I may be a little reckless in a fight, but I do so have regard for my well-being! There were scheduled breaks.”

Aizawa gave him a poignant look. “When I told you Shinso would need more attention, you basically taught yourself how to throw knives, yesterday.”

“I’d read up on it before,” he explained. “And it’s the natural progression of what I’ve been learning.”

“Uh-huh. Are you sticking to what I gave you?”

“Yes, Aizawa-sensei,” he said resisting the urge to sigh. “One hour of training, one hour of body awareness exercises, and only skills training for the rest.”

“And?” Aizawa said knowingly.

“You can’t take parkour away from me! I just got a running partner that can keep up!”

Aizawa smirked. “You are on thin ice. But I’ll allow it for now.” He turned to Yagi. “Open the other one so we can get going.”

“Ah, um. But –”

“If the words ‘it’s for All Might’ come out of your mouth I swear I’ll leave right now,” Aizawa threatened.

“Fine,” Yagi surrendered. He carefully unwrapped the more obviously All Might-themed paper; dark blue with yellow silhouettes of him in various heroic poses interspersed with red and white stars.

The scarf was made up of five two-inch wide stripes – two dark blue, two red, and one white – and ended in yellow fringe. It hung to Yagi’s knees when draped over his shoulders, and was twice as thick as a normal scarf. 

“We know All Might doesn’t like the cold,” Izuku said as Yagi began to gush over the scarf.

“Cut the crap, Midoriya,” Aizawa said, glaring. “You and Bakugo know.”

“Oh, Kacchan doesn’t know!”

“Kacchan?” Aizawa cocked his head.

“Sorry, it’s what I call Bakugo. Like how he calls me Deku.”

“Odd that he’d only tell you,” he said narrowing his eyes.

“It wasn’t like that! His time ran out rescuing me from that sludge villain. You know the one about a year ago,” Izuku told him. “It wasn’t like he confided in me or anything!”

Suddenly, Yagi wrapped his long spindly arms around Izuku. “Thank you both so much. Tell young Bakugo that I adore the scarf! I won’t mention it in front of the other students, I know he gets embarrassed easily.”

“Bakugo? Embarrassed?” Aizawa asked.

Izuku nodded as Yagi released him. “And then he starts shouting. Actually, that’s his response to a lot of emotions. He can be hard to read because of it.”

“Huh. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyway, you should get that in the freezer,” Izuku said gesturing to the ice cream.

“I will, and again, I appreciate this so much, thank you.” Yagi bowed.

“Don’t make a habit of this,” Aizawa said as he began dragging Yagi away.

“I won’t,” Izuku promised sheepishly. He started in the opposite direction. After walking for a while, he ducked into an ally. Izuku wandered the little network of side streets and alleyways for some time before he found the spot Kurogiri had told him about a plain grey door sat between two large dumpsters. 

He pulled out the phone with the Gang Orca charm. All Might glared at him from the lock screen. He’d chosen the image in the hopes that he would lose his nerve and stop calling Kurogiri, but that never happened. Instead, he input the pin number without hesitation. A small burst of endorphins ran through his system at the sight of a stripe of shadow across a random Tokyo sidewalk.

Izuku moved his shadow across the door, took a picture, and sent it to Kurogiri. He was immediately rewarded with the familiar fuzzy noise of his boyfriend’s warp gate.

 

Shota entered Yagi’s apartment and was immediately hit with nostalgia for his first place. It was a cramped one-room studio. Tatami mats covered the floors. The oshi-ire was open, the bottom half held an oversized futon and the top was a well-organized, Spartan closet. The only counter space was ten inches between the sink and the single heating element. The bathroom was the size of a postage stamp and didn’t even have a tub. The balcony was barely big enough for the washing machine and the hanging drying rack. The total square footage was barely one hundred and thirty-five feet.

“Here, you sit at the table, and chop or peel what I hand you,” Shota said, taking the grocery bag from him and tossing the ice cream into the freezer.

“Alright,” Yagi agreed. He watched Shota put only one-third of a cup of rice in the cooker. He passed a cutting board, knife, and the onion to Yagi. 

He cut the pork loin they had picked out into one-inch squares and began heating the frying pan. Then, Shota mixed up a tiny amount of dough in a soup bowl. He rolled it out very thin and cut it into four squares. 

The pork and onion went in the pan with some garlic, while the pair sliced a few mushrooms and a large carrot. 

Four pieces of the pork were diced finely with mushroom, onion, garlic, and ginger, and then used to fill the dough.

“How do you know how to make such small batches?”

Shota looked down at the four gyoza he was tossing into the pan with some water. He was flush with embarrassment but his voice stayed steady. “I was homeless for a while when I first started out on my own. I lived pretty spartanly for about five–six years. It’s not that I had nowhere to go, I was trying to make it on my own. It didn’t exactly work out, but I never went hungry and I was never left out in the cold.”

“Oh…” Yagi was at a loss for words. “I, well, I didn’t mean to bring up –”

“It’s fine. It’s part of who I am. You should know about my failures if we’re going to be… close,” Shota replied. He pushed the potato and peeler over to Yagi. “You don’t like too much spice right?”

“I can handle it, but I don’t really prefer it.”

“Fair enough.” Shota finished the gyoza and returned the meat and onions to the pan. The carrot, potato, and mushrooms joined them. He coated everything in flour and cooked it for a few minutes before adding the broth. He seasoned the dish carefully and let it simmer with the lid on.

A chime started ringing. “Oh, I have to take some pills,” Yagi explained, silencing his phone. “Can you hand me the little red cup from the fridge?”

Shota opened the fridge hoping to find only one cup. There were two, to him, identical cups. He picked one up and gave it a discrete sniff; orange juice. He grabbed the other cup and hoped that Yagi hadn’t noticed the delay while he was fetching his meds.

He had. Shota blushed again. “Sorry,” he muttered handing over the cup.

“What was that about?” Yagi took a sip to swallow his pills and handed the cup back.

“I’m,” he started. It was too soon to tell him. Shota crossed his arms. “I’m colorblind. I have deuteranopia. I’m guessing the other cup was yellow, or green.”

“Orange.”

“Of course, you would.” He shook his head.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It’s just one more struggle my quirk has caused me, but I mostly work at night, so it’s less of a problem.” He sighed. “Might as well drop the other shoe. I also have anxiety, insomnia, and crippling depression.”  

Yagi was silent for a long time. “So much about you makes more sense now.”

“Thanks.” He turned back to the pan. Shota hunched his shoulders as he stirred the food. “I’ll get out of your hair as soon as this is done. There’s no sense in letting it go to waste.”

“Please, stay. I didn’t mean to be rude.” Yagi stepped around the table. “You opening up to me like this must be –”

Shota blinked away tears, just as likely to have been caused by the steam as some pent-up emotion. “You’re not going to tell me I can’t, shouldn’t be a hero?”

“I said that to someone once,” Yagi confessed. “I have to live with that regret for the rest of my life. Luckily they didn’t listen to me.”

“Yeah? They a great hero now?”

“One of the best,” Yagi said with confidence. It wasn’t exactly a lie, he was sure that Midoriya would be a great hero one day. “Besides, you’re a great hero yourself.”

Shota blushed. “Uh, thanks.” He gave the curry another stir. “So, none of that is a deal-breaker?”

“Deal breaker?” Yagi asked. “No, of course not, I would like nothing more than to be friends.”

Grinning, Shota ran his hand up the other man’s arm. “You can’t think of anything you’d like more?”

“I, I… are you flirting with me?”

“Uh-huh. Kinda thought that was obvious when I offered to cook you dinner.” He leaned into Yagi’s space.

“But I thought you and – and Mic were…”

“Oh, we are. Here you wanna call him and ask if it’s okay?”

“Ai-Aizawa-kun! I don’t, I can’t –” Yagi stuttered. “I don’t date coworkers,” he finally said.

“You’re not gay?” Shota took a step back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to –”

“No, no, I mean I… well. It’s fine. I just –”

“No, I should have asked first, it’s my fault.” He chuckled at them talking over each other. “Here, let’s rewind a bit and try this again. I’m bi, ‘Zashi is a pan disaster, and we both think you’re attractive and sweet.”

“You mean, like this?” Yagi gestured to himself.

“Personally, I prefer you like that. And ‘Zashi has said, and I quote: that isn’t a man, that’s a tree. ReTweet if you’re a squirrel.”

Yagi coughed and quickly fished out his handkerchief.  

“Can we at least see where this goes?”

“Well, we can’t let the food go to waste,” Yagi replied. His cheeks were tinged pink as he reached for plates.

                

As Izuku and Bakugo approached the school, they could see a crowd of reporters congregated at the gates.

 Izuku pretended not to notice Tomura lurking across the street. Free of his hand mask he could almost pass for normal. He was plain looking in his black, long-sleeved shirt and jeans. 

The pair could see their year mates slipping by in packs; mostly claiming to be from the general course to get by the more rabid interviewers. Iida started giving a rambling lecture about the honor and prestige of the school. When a microphone was thrust at them, Izuku stammered inarticulately. 

The reporter turned her attention to Bakugo. “Hold on. Aren’t you that sludge villain kid?”

He growled, “Walk away,” at the female reporter doing most of the harassing; his palm crackling with tiny explosions. 

Izuku grinned. “Now Kacchan, that’s no way to behave. Tell the nice reporter about the squeezing, choking death you narrowly escaped. The abject terror of a slime monster oozing down your throat while at least six pro heroes stood by and helplessly watched as you nearly died. I’m sure her viewers would love it.”

The reporter blanched at that. She backed off. “Uh… That’s enough from you two.”

“Damn, Deku. It’s like you’re a whole different person.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Izuku asked as they passed by Aizawa on their way through the gate.

“It’s a good thing. You’re not a spineless weakling anymore.” 

“I’m glad you’ve noticed.” 

At the shoe lockers, Shinso was waiting for him. Kirishima was waiting for Bakugo.

“I have to get to class, but I’ll wait for you after school. I don’t want you going through that rabble on your own,” Bakugo told him. 

Izuku laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll meet you in the library as promised. Maybe your new friend will study with you.” He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of Bakugo’s huffy response.

“What are you laughing at, Shitty Hair?”

Shinso shook his head as they walked away. “Why do you like him?”

“Kacchan is like family to me,” Izuku replied.

Shinso snickered. “So you don’t, but you’re obligated to tolerate him.”

“He never abandoned me. Sure, he was mean to me a lot of the time, but he never left me out. He never avoided me. It doesn’t really mean anything when he gets loud; his mom is like that, too. He might actually have some hearing loss, come to think of it,” Izuku explained. 

As they walked to class, he texted Mei. What about hearing protection? Something discreet that cancels louder sounds, like explosions. Maybe doubles as a communicator?

They took their seats and Shinso showed Izuku the signs for ‘explosion,’ ‘duck,’ and ‘avoid.’ ‘Duck’ was the animal, but it was faster to make a quacking motion with three fingers than to make two thumbs up and pull one away. ‘Explosion’ was basically just pantomiming an explosion: one fist in front of the other, at chest height, then rotate your arms perpendicular while opening your fists. Izuku also learned ‘shut up’ (making the talking/quaking motion while bringing it toward your mouth), and ‘eat’ (tapping your mouth with all your fingertips and thumb).

They were both teaching their classmates when Yamada strolled in. “Good news, listeners. It’s time to pick a class rep!” After setting a glazed donut on Tachibana’s desk with a quick ‘happy birthday,' he booted up the digital blackboard and listed out the class’s names. “It’s fastest to take a vote, but first things first: Anyone not interested in being the rep?”

Naturally, Izuku and Shinso raised their hands, but so did a few other students.

“Okay,” Yamada said. Their names grayed out. “Now, don’t be surprised if everyone else votes for themselves.”

The five students not interested in the position were, in fact, the deciding votes. With a total of four votes the short red-haired girl with antennae and chitinous armor, Ariyama, won, and Ono was the runner-up with three votes.

“I don’t know why you two even got to vote,” said Aki sneering, flicking her long blond hair making it shimmer with pink sparkles.

“We see you in most classes. We know enough to judge you,” Shinso replied.

“Well, that’s kind of fair,” Izuku said tapping his cheek with his finger. “However, there are only three ways it could have gone down without our votes, and none of them change anything for you. First, if we voted for different candidates the results remain exactly the same. If we both voted for Ariyama, the positions are reversed. If we both voted for Ono, then a second vote would be needed to decide the vice-rep. Unless Yamada-sensei either selected the vice for us at that point or allowed the rep to choose.”

“Okay, listeners, now that that’s settled, it’s time to learn some English!”

The class settled back into their seats, and Yuna Otokawa leaned back in her seat in front of Shinso. “Thanks for shutting Aki-san down. She can get a little intense.” She sighed and her quirk manifested a tiny, empty speech bubble with a popped-vein symbol that floated vaguely away from her before disappearing.

The boys nodded back as Yamada launched into his lecture.

 

The Capsule Launcher Mark II was ready to turn into blueprints. Shinso and Izuku were both required to draw and submit their own copies. That left the trio free to begin designing ear protection for Bakugo. Maijima came around to their workbench twice to give them advice on the design.

“It’s very considerate of you,” he told them. “You may want to incorporate touches like that into your signature.”

“Can we build these after school today?” Mei asked excitedly.

“I’ll look over this design and get back to you after lunch.” 

“That means yes,” she assured the boys. 

 

At lunch, Izuku sat at the table next to Bakugo’s, so some of his classmates and Mei could join them. “This is Ariyama, our newly appointed class rep, and Ono, her second.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yaoyorozu offered her hand to the other girl.

“So, Ponytail is our class rep, and she picked Glasses as vice rep,” Bakugo offered.

“Oh, congratulations!” Ariyama replied, bowing slightly to Yaoyorozu. “This is my best friend Kouha Asuka.”

Asuka had another one of 1-C’s mutation quirks. He was a blend of human and blue-and-gold macaw, mostly macaw. The green crest on his head extended all the way down his neck, giving it the semblance of hair. His arms were wings, his legs ended in claws and he had tail feathers. 

“It’s always a pleasure to make the acquaintance of someone whose family is so well known in the industry,” Asuka said with a little head bob. When Yaoyorozu replied with a tight smile, Asuka gave another brief head bob and went to sit on the other side of Ariyama.

“He likes making connections, but he’s not pushy,” she explained. “And at least he’s upfront about it.”

“I understand, it’s just…”

“You’re in the hero course to be a hero, not make business acquaintances,” Ariyama provided.

“I don’t mean to offend.”

“And neither does he,” she replied. “Now enough of that. This is Izuku-kun’s brother?” she gestured at Bakugo. “He smells nice, like burnt sugar.”

“It's nitroglycerin,” Izuku told her.

“Ah, I remember you saying that his quirk was explosions.”

Before they could continue, a shrill alarm sounded. A prerecorded message came over the loudspeaker. “Warning, level three security breach. Students, please evacuate the building in an orderly fashion.” A nearby upperclassman explained that someone must have gotten past the school’s barriers.

At the same time, Izuku’s phone began to vibrate. He merely reached into his pocket and rejected the call without looking at it. It was a prearranged signal from Tomura that they were in the building. It meant that roaming the halls was a bad idea.

Izuku grabbed Shinso’s wrist. “We don’t want to be caught in the crush. Everyone’s going to panic.”

Bakugo hesitated when he saw that Izuku wasn’t moving toward the exit. “Oi! Nerd.”

“Just a sec, Kacchan!” Izuku pointed at the stampede to the door. “Let’s let it thin out a bit first!”

In just a few seconds, the fifteen students at their two tables were the only ones not pushing and shoving to get out of the cafeteria. This allowed several of them to spot the press trying to force their way into the building.

“It’s just the press,” Shinso said in his soft, dry tone.

Bakugo chuckled. “All that panic over nothing. You’d think the upperclassmen would be more level-headed.”

“Well, maybe they thought they were setting a good example and following instructions,” Yaoyorozu reasoned.

Soon the commotion in the hall died down. Many of the students filtered back into the cafeteria. Uraraka was among them and made her way to the more familiar group. “That was intense. It was great of Iida to calm everyone down.”

“A simple look outside and two brain cells to rub together would do the same,” Aki sneered dismissively.

“Behave yourself, Sparkles,” Izuku snapped. “People don’t think rationally in a moment of crisis. Besides, the press getting in just means that one, or more, of them are capable of breaching Yuuei’s theoretically impenetrable security.”

Shinso leaned toward her and spoke as if to a particularly dense child, “That makes them dangerous.”

She huffed and flicked her hair. It sparkled a vibrant magenta. “Whatever.”

The staff gave them an extra twenty minutes to eat and sent them back to class.

               

Maijima hovered close to their workbench as the three students constructed five sets of discreet noise-canceling communicators. They fit into the ear like a hearing aid; the left side was a receiver, and the right a microphone. The technology for both the discreet communicators and the noise-canceling earbuds had already existed, and Maijima made them comb the support gear database for anything that might already combine the two. “No sense in reinventing the wheel.”

Several items were similar to what they wanted, and looking at the designs helped them work out some kinks in the project. Since most of the noise-canceling was done at a static level, they decided to go all out on the programming and have it vary. It would kick in after a set amount of time – accrued in the interval between being placed in their charging station – for specific decibel levels. The low end started at eighty-five for eight hours, then ninety-four for one and ninety-seven for half an hour. One hundred and three decibels were only safe for seven minutes, One hundred and six for three, One hundred and nine for less than two, and everything above that was just canceled. 

In the three hours that the trio stayed to work, the boys each assembled one full set and Mei did three. They did a basic test of the functionality and made sure the charging stations were unlikely to overheat. Maijima said they could use them, but the one for Bakugo needed to stay with him until he signed off on it completely, as it would be official support gear in his case.

The trio parted ways with Mei grumbling about being kicked out of the workshop. “I have dinner plans,” Maijima complained. “And if I let you, you’d live in here.”

As Izuku turned the last corner on the way to the library, he heard his name being called. He looked around, actually finding it hard not to sweep his shadow around to find the source for the first time. He’d have to let Kurogiri know he’d made progress in thinking about Shadow Bind as a part of himself.

“I’m glad I caught you,” Aizawa said as he slowly strolled over. “It was unfair of me to focus so much on Shinso. Learning the capture scarf will be hard, but I should also put effort into helping you find a signature weapon or style.”

“Well, I appreciate that but I also understand that Shinso is doing something that requires more direct supervision,” Izuku replied with a smile. He let himself appraise the teacher with the threat assessment skills he was learning. His stance was confident, if relaxed. He had good balance and fluid movements. Despite the jumpsuit, Izuku could tell he was all lean, corded muscle. He didn’t ring any ‘threat’ bells, but he was rippling with the potential to do harm. Izuku was not looking forward to possibly facing off with him in a few days.

Aizawa stared at him for a moment. “You are a people pleaser.”

“You say that like it’s another tally in the victim column,” he responded a little slowly, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

“It is,” Aizawa confirmed.

“So, I should what? Be an ass like Kacchan?” he asked, keeping his voice down in case the other boy decided to come looking for him.

“No, but you should think more about what you want, what you need.”

Izuku schooled his expression from one of annoyance to one of determination. “I know what I want: to be a hero. What I need is to get into the hero course. So, I guess the real question is: do you think your hands-off approach to training me will hinder my chances?”

“I don’t want to risk it.”

Izuku nodded. “Okay, so you want to train me separately from Shinso?”

“Yes.”

“We can still spar, right? And it wouldn’t hurt if I did some practice while you were training him,” Izuku asked. He bit his lip as if to keep from babbling. 

“You really hate having free time that much?” Aizawa asked patting him on the shoulder. 

Izuku shook his head. “Don’t tell Shinso, but I don’t want to face Mie alone. I’d say she is a force of nature but she’s more like unfettered inspiration incarnate.”

“Okay, I could meet you on Saturdays but it would have to be at my place,” Aizawa said. He tilted his head back as if he were trying to remember his schedule.

Izuku gave him a flat look.

“What?”

“This from the guy that’s worried about All Might ‘overstepping’,” Izuku said with a wide and mirthful grin.

Aizawa glared at him. “Mic will be there. Midnight too sometimes.”

“Oh, I have no problem doing it, I just wanted to point out how hypocritical it made you,” he responded.

“Brat.”

Izuku grinned more.

“In the meantime, I have a couple of things for you to try out.” He handed over a packet of instructions. As Izuku leafed through them he explained, “Its a few techniques you should learn. If you already know any of them we can do a test on it, and I’ll see if you’re ready for the next level or a different skill altogether.”

Izuku nodded. “I’m good with shinobi-ashi, and running along narrow surfaces.”

Aizawa nodded. “Good. See you Friday.”

Notes:

Bio Cards
Name: Hoshi Aki
Kanji: 星 明
星 Star
明 Bright
Quirk: Light Orb – Transforms into a ball of red energy and can move at high speed
Description: A typical pretty high school mean girl.
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: March 10
Height: 5’9”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Gossip, Fashion/makeup, Romance Novels.

Name: Akane Ariyama
Kanji: 茜 蟻山
茜 Deep Red
蟻 Ant, 山 Mountain
Quirk: Ant – Has the proportional strength of an ant, antennae, and chitinous armor.
Description: A studious and responsible high school girl
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: February 24
Height: 4’9”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Sweet foods, Reading, Amusement Parks.

Name: Nijiiro Ono
Kanji: 虹色 小野
虹 rainbow, 色 color
小 Small, 野 field
Quirk: Rainbow Clones – makes six smaller copies of himself, with different hair colors.
Description: An affable and friendly high school boy
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: November 18
Height: 5’7”
Blood Type: B
Likes/dislikes: Celebrity Gossip, Fast food, Cooperative/noncompetitive games.

Chapter 18: The USJ Incident

“Okay, you’ve had a cup of blood, so you’re good for the day,” Izuku said as he sat on his knees rummaging through his backpack to make sure all his homework was there.

“And I have extra in the bento box Kurogiri packed me. I’ll be fine,” Toga replied.

“It’s not you I’m worried about. I know you’ll do perfectly,” he told her. He pulled out a mechanical pencil. “I borrowed this from Takara Arioku. Make sure you give it back to her.”

“The one with the long red hair and inventory quirk right?”

“That’s the one.” Izuku leaned forward, pulled his mask down, and kissed Toga on the cheek. “Now you’ll be flustered all day.”

Toga gave a cute little whimper and transformed into Izuku. She stripped right in front of him to change into his school uniform. He was thankful that they were in Kurogiri’s room. Even though it was his own body, Izuku looked away. He hid his blushing face in his hands, careful of his climbing claws.

“Now you’ll be flustered all day,” she said in a mocking tone. “Two can play at this game.” Toga leaned down, moved his hands, and gave him a peck on the lips. “No one will know the difference. I can be you without any problems.”

Izuku looked up at her still blushing to the tips of his ears. “I meant you, Toga-chan, not you, playing me.”

Toga’s face fell into an expression of surprise; her mouth forming a little O.

“That’s a cute face. I bet it would look even cuter on you.”

Toga gave a frustrated squeak. “Stop flirting when I have to leave!”

A chuckle alerted them to Kurogiri’s return. “I think it might just be Stray’s way of dealing with the stress of an upcoming mission.” He crossed the room to the pair and leaned down to Toga. His lips brushed hers as he spoke. “Remember that you are on your own today. If anything goes wrong just run. If all goes well, text us at nine-thirty. If Izuku’s mother is still up, or if Stray is injured, you may need to spend the night.” Then he kissed her. Slow and sensual, it pulled a shuddering moan from her. “For luck,” he said straightening up. Kurogiri opened a warp gate beneath her feet and let Toga drop gracefully through it.

Izuku’s currently amber eyes were dark with want. He stood up and placed a hand gently on Kurogiri’s shoulder. “I thought you weren’t the jealous type?”

“I’m not,” he said simply. “But it occurs that you might be.”

“Is that what I’m feeling? I don’t think it is. I didn’t want you to stop.”

“Help me into my costume,” Kurogiri instructed, his voice husky.

“Sure,” Izuku said glancing around for a case. “You know I don’t think I’ve seen you in your villain outfit.”

Kurogiri chuckled as he added two rows to his metal collar. “Just this.”

Izuku made a keening whining noise in the back of his throat.

“We have a few hours for you to get used to it,” Kurogiri said as he began unbuttoning his cuffs. “I understand if you find it… awkward.”

“N-no. I get it. You’ll be so spread out it’s like not having a body. It would be a waste of time to wear anything, and then it would likely be left behind.” Izuku reached for Kurogiri’s tie. “And if you’re going to be naked I need to get over it.”

As his shirt buttons came undone, each new piece of not-exactly-skin was kissed. Izuku had seen Kurogiri shirtless each night as they curled together in an intimate cocoon of mist and shadow. This was familiar ground. And Izuku was all too aware that the fear of capture, exposure, or even death was what emboldened him to touch, lick, and kiss his lover.

His hands explored the exposed plane of Kurogiri’s back for far longer than they had time for, before coming to rest on his belt. Izuku’s fingers trembled. Kurogiri captured his hands.

“I neither expect nor recommend the same treatment from here on. We only have so much time, and I would rather you enjoy yourself than push yourself into something you’re not ready for.”

Izuku nodded. He felt the familiar comfort that always accompanied Kurogiri’s promise to him. I promise to wait. The belt was undone and slid free of the belt loops. Why did that willingness to wait, spur him to action? The button and zipper were next. Izuku leaned up and kissed Kurogiri as he pushed the trousers off his hips. Strong but nearly incorporeal arms wrapped around him as the pants fell to the floor.

Returning the embrace, Izuku took a pair of shuffling steps backward and pulled Kurogiri down onto the bed with him.

Kurogiri groaned and deepened the kiss, before pulling suddenly, and completely away. “We have to go downstairs and wait for Giran. We do not have time to do this properly; even if you intend to stop at kissing.”

Izuku whined but took a deep breath. He put his mask back in place. “And the last thing we need is Tomura having to come down here and fetch us.”

Kurogiri chuckled. “We would never hear the end of it.”

After making sure Izuku’s outfit wasn’t rumpled, the pair went upstairs to the bar. Just as Izuku took his seat next to Tomura, Giran walked in carrying a knockoff hero costume case. “The last of the rent-a-goons is in place. I’m surprised you had so many specifications for the cannon fodder.”

Izuku was impressed that they’d gotten the plan pulled together so quickly. He refrained from commenting as his heart was still pounding.

 “Oh, and one other thing. I know it’s just aesthetics, but I wanted to make a couple of adjustments to Stray-kun’s outfit.”

“It's fine the way it is,” Tomura said, “but if he doesn’t mind neither, do I.”

“I just grabbed whatever in your size before,” he explained handing Izuku the case. “But I think this is… better.”

Izuku opened it up to see a pair of black leather pants, a new jacket, and a molded Kevlar breastplate. “Wow.”

“Yeah, you’ll look like a real villain in this, not like some kid out looking for kicks.”

Izuku stripped off his jacket and shirt on the way to the bathroom to change. He was excited to put the breastplate on. Giran had made another artistic decision, Izuku noted as he pulled the pants off in private. All the hardware was brass this time.

Izuku stepped out of the bathroom with the full costume on. Kurogiri whistled at him. The pops of red had been minimized. It was just the boots, gloves, and collar. The reinforced bodysuit was no longer necessary; the breastplate covered his torso and the leather pants were reinforced where needed. And there were plates in the jacket’s forearms that matched the shin guards in the boots.

Paired with the more muzzle-looking facemask Izuku did look like a real villain.

 “At least in this you won’t be mistaken for a rent boy,” Tomura said ruining the moment. He pulled his necklace off and set it on the bar.

“Yeah, I kinda felt bad about that when Kurogiri told me what happened. I mean this is by no means day wear, but at least it’s respectable,” Giran added.

“Not going to have much use for daywear after this, anyway,” Izuku replied with a shrug. He finally felt ready.

 

Bakugo was not pouting. He did not pout. He and his classmates were on their way to do rescue training at a facility across campus, and while on the bus, the topic of who among them would become a popular hero came up. He and Todoroki had the flashiest quirks so were the most likely candidates.

And then Asui said, “Bakugo is too angry to be popular.” When he barked at her to shut up she just said, “See?”

Then Kaminari added, “We’ve only known each other for a week but we all know your personality is basically flaming crap mixed with garbage.”

Before he could snarl his reply, Todoroki spoke up from behind him, “Except for when Midoriya is around.”

“So, if they teamed up he’d stand a chance,” Asui said with a pondering look.

The paneled dome of the training facility came into view and the class settled down. They were greeted by another pro hero as soon as they piled out of the bus.

“Hello, everyone! I’ve been waiting for you!”

Uraraka gushed, “Woohoo! Thirteen is one of my favorite heroes!”

“I can’t wait to show you what’s inside,” the space-suit-clad hero told them. They excitedly followed her into the building, where they got to truly appreciate the scale of the place for the first time.

“Holy crap, it looks like some kind of amusement park,” Kirishima gasped.

“A shipwreck, a landslide, a fire, a windstorm, etcetera,” Thirteen said gesturing around at the various features and buildings inside the building. “I created this training facility to prepare you for dealing with different types of disasters. I call it the Unforeseen Simulation Joint! But you can call it USJ!”

The students stared at the hero in dull surprise. The teachers seemed to love their theme park references.

Aizawa moved closer to Thirteen asking, “Shouldn’t All Might be here already? Did he call out?”

Thirteen’s reply was too quiet for any of them to hear, but she held up three fingers.

“Clock’s ticking. We should get started,” Aizawa said turning back to them.

“Listen carefully. I’m sure you’re aware that I have a powerful quirk called Blackhole. I can use it to suck up anything and turn it into dust.” As Thirteen explained Uraraka nodded enthusiastically. “While I have used it to save people from all manner of disasters, my quirk could easily be used to kill.”

While several of the other students looked shocked, Bakugo appeared interested for the first time.

“Some of you also have powers that can be dangerous.”

“We all do,” Bakugo snapped. “Any flashy quirk, anything useful in a fight, all of us.”

“That’s true. In our superhuman society, all quirks are certified and stringently regulated, so we often overlook how unsafe they can actually be. Please don’t forget that if you lose focus or make the wrong move your powers can be deadly. Even if you’re trying to do something virtuous, like rescue someone. Thanks to Aizawa’s fitness tests and All Might’s combat training, you have a good idea of the potential damage your quirks can do, especially when used against other people. Carry those lessons over to this class. Today you’re going to learn how to use your quirks to save peoples’ lives. You won’t be using your quirks to attack enemies or each other, only to help. After all, that’s what being a hero is all about, ensuring the safety of others.” Thirteen took a bow. “That’s all I have to say. Thank you for listening.”

The students applauded.

 

“Right,” Aizawa’s voice came over the comm in Izuku’s ear. “Now that that’s ov–”

Izuku nodded to Kurogiri. The jammer already present in the oversized facility had activated. It was safe to proceed. Kurogiri opened a large warp gate a moment later.

Dozens of villains stepped out of the portal with Tomura, who was flanked by Izuku and the nomu. “Sorry to intrude,” Tomura called out to the heroes. “We were hoping to see All Might.”

“He seems to be absent,” Izuku commented, his voice deepened and augmented to hide his identity. “Looks like we have to move straight to the side quests. Pity.”

The students shifted rapidly between quaking with fear and assessing the situation. Izuku smiled behind his mask. As predicted Aizawa leaped down to face them, leaving Thirteen in charge of evacuating the students.

 

With only a caress of his mist to let them know he was on the move, Kurogiri warped to the top of the platform. “There is no escape for you,” he told the students as he coalesced between them and the door. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. We are the League of Villains. I know it’s impolite but we decided to invite ourselves into this haven of justice to say hello.”

Two students – Bakugo and the one with the hardening quirk – lunged at him. It was fine, he had gotten a good look at the children. Between Izuku’s descriptions and the students’ hero costumes, it was easy enough for him to identify them. He engulfed the group and began splitting them up, even as Bakugo let off a large explosion.

After dropping off Kacchan, Kurogiri assessed the remaining students. The speedster had managed to grab two of his classmates and leap free of his mist; super strength and antigravity, if he was not mistaken. Another bundle of three was huddled just behind Thirteen. He could not tell whom the multi-armed boy was clutching so dropped them into the shipwreck zone, in place of Uraraka.

It was difficult to trust another to look after Tomura, but Kurogiri knew that between the nomu and Stray-kun, his charge was safe. He needed to focus on eliminating Thirteen and keeping the speedster in check. At least until All Might showed up.

The pro hero activated her quirk. Particles of his body were sucked up. “Black Hole, such an astounding power. However, you’re a rescue hero, Thirteen, skilled at saving people from disasters. Consequentially, that means you have little fighting ability or battlefield awareness.” Kurogiri opened a warp gate right in front of himself, with the exit just behind Thirteen. Her own power began tearing at her suit. “How unfortunate, you’ve turned yourself into dust.”

As she fell Uraraka cried her name, and the strong one, Sato, spurred the speedster into action. Kurogiri growled. He could not afford to let them notify the teachers. “A sheep trying to escape the wolves. I simply can’t allow that.”

As the boy raced along the platform toward the door, Kurogiri opened a warp gate in his path. The boy skidded, trying to stop, trying to change direction but lacking the maneuverability at that speed. The gate took him back to Kurogiri’s cloud of mist. Simply tossing him elsewhere in the facility would buy him a minute or two at best.

Kurogiri drew his mist in, solidifying almost completely. He stomped on the boy’s knee. “Impertinent child!”

The boy cried out in pain. It was a pathetic sound. Kurogiri was glad Stray was never that weak. As he opened a small portal around one of the boy’s exhaust pipes, Uraraka lunged at him. Her fingers gripped his collar and she flung him upward. While being weightless was distracting, it wasn’t enough to halt his maiming of the speedster. The metal was a far cry from wood and the cut was not clean. The jagged edges crimped inward blocking the exhaust.

Before he was out of their reach, the strong one grabbed him and flung him over the main fight. Luckily, the girl hoped to kill him by dropping him. Kurogiri merely opened a warp gate to the ground and moved through it.

 

Heatwave had been excited to get the call. With his quirk being the production of thermal energy and not flames, he could rarely find work. They wanted him to take on a specific target; some brat with an ice quirk. All he had to do was unfreeze anyone the kid froze.

When the warp gate dropped the boy, he noticed a second impact nearby. That was why they’d given this squad thermal goggles. The invisible girl pulled off her gloves and shoes, but that wasn’t going to help. 

Heatwave directed the small squad to circle around the ice user; to get the invisible kid in the area his quirk was going to hit. She kept moving but they managed to antagonize the ice boy into sending out a massive wave, encasing the whole group, except their faces.

“Aren’t you embarrassed to lo– ” Whatever scathing remark he was about to deliver was lost as he rushed to the nearest pillar of ice. He hadn’t known that the invisible kid was there. It was hard enough to breathe encased in his ice, never mind being fully covered. To Heatwave’s shock, the boy produced a flame from his left hand to start melting the ice around the invisible kid.

But that was the only complicated part of the job done. Heatwave raised the temperature in a five-foot radius freeing himself and the man next to him. As soon as the ice user got his friend loose, Heatwave started cranking up the temperature for the whole area. This fight was just warming up.

“Heatwave, tone it down! I can’t see the girl!” someone shouted.

“It's fine she probably –” Heatwave was cut off by a wet crack and a girlish scream. He crumpled to the ground.

“Oh god, oh god!”

“Get out of the way,” the boy snarled. There was a clattering of rocks as she and the villains scattered. Ice swept through the area, once again trapping them. “Listen well,” he began. They knew they were had, but at least they’d still get paid; even if someone was stupid enough to talk.

 

Kurogiri took a little more pleasure than he should have in dropping Kacchan into the earthquake zone. It was only a four-story fall; six would, unfortunately, give him too much time to use his blasts to slow the fall. Still, he was sure to survive this, and that would keep Stray-kun happy. And if a dozen thugs at his landing site brought a smile to Kurogiri’s face no one would know.

               

Tazer laughed as the girls drew weapons from the tall one. Metal weapons. He knew he was here to counter the boy, but the girls were an unexpected bonus. The barren rocky ‘mountains’ were a nice touch. There was nowhere for the electrical energy to go but into the fighters.

His squad kept the girls busy, especially Hydro. Any time they looked too collected he’d hose them down with saltwater. The tall one took down one of them with a net and pinned another with javelins, and the punk girl blasted them with sound waves downing a few as well, but they were all only stunned. The children didn’t know how to remove an enemy from the fight. 

The punk girl booted the boy straight into him. The boy shocked him on instinct. Too easy. Tazer laughed again. He punched the boy, bloodying his nose. He also sent the charge racing through the wet ground. The tall one screamed and collapsed, the arm holding the bow staff smoking.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, kids,” Tazer growled happily. He returned his attention to the boy. “Now, surrender or I’ll kill him.”

For his credit, the boy took a swing at him. He was surprisingly strong for his frame. In a few years, it might even be enough to hurt; if he lived that long. Tazer grabbed him by the shirt and hauled back to knock him out when a large object tore through the tall girl’s top. He looked up in surprise.

“Kaminari take out the small fry!” she shouted as they huddled under the thick blanket.

The boy let loose a massive charge, stunning everyone in the area; everyone except the girls, Tazer, and Jammer, who was hidden underground. The boy went limp in Tazer’s grip.

“He’s even less useful, now. And I’m all charged up,” Tazer gloated while the boy piteously muttered ‘whey, whey’ in his hand.

The girls were not unharmed, the tall one had burned her bare legs, and would likely be useless for the rest of the fight. The punk tucked the blanket around her, whether to protect her modesty or insulate her from future attacks Tazer couldn’t say.

She wisely put her hands up but foolishly started talking. How there was a high demand for electrical quirks in the private sector, and why’d he turn to villainy in the first place. Tazer laughed when Jammer reached out of the earth like a zombie and grabbed her ear lobe jack as she tried to sneak it into her boot blaster.

And then the other villains began to stir.

                 

Smoke Bomb and Flash Bang herded the two mutants farther into the fire zone hoping the heat and smoke would slow the acrobatic pair down. The smoke was filtered out mostly, to simulate an outdoor fire, but the heat was doing its job on the frog girl.  She slowed. Then fell.

The boy lifted her small frame with ease, but he’d have a hard time fighting with his arms full. He sprung off using his tail, and the team lost sight of him. It was fine though. The squad spread out to do a sweep of the buildings.

Shouting and an unconscious villain led them to a small structure where they could spot occasional flashes of blond hair. Smoke Bomb and Flash Bang spoke briefly. They had been told that they should avoid killing if possible. It was hardly their fault if it was unavoidable, the pair agreed. They launched their percussive quirks in an effort to collapse the structure.

The partial ceiling fell in. Flash Bang signaled the squad to search the building after the dust settled. The two mutants were gone, but there were bits of singed costume and skin from both of them on the largest support beam. Smoke Bomb grinned manically. “There’s fight left in those brats, and we’re gonna beat it out of them.”

 

Spike had to admit that the bird and the ugly one were both good fighters, but that shadow thing was unexpectedly dangerous. The notes they had been given said that the ugly one’s quirk required animals, so he’d all but discounted the boy. Nothing had been said about the shadow thing being ten feet tall and able to toss a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound man like a box of tissue.

The pair had cuts, scraps, and bruises, but no serious injuries. They were panting heavily from the exertion of fighting, fleeing, and ambushing his men, but that did not seem to affect the shadow thing. As long as the pair were kept in this area, the squad will still be paid. So, they were happy to harry the pair until the signal to retreat was given.

 

The water was unreasonably deep. The heroes really went all out. Waiting was hard. Then it was over. Piranha rushed the small flailing figure. He pierced the boy’s arm with his long sharp teeth and jetted toward the surface. They were told to let the kids live if they could but to do them harm. Saving him from drowning while possibly rendering his arm useless for the rest of his life seemed to fit the bill.

In the distance – and wasn’t that a statement to make about what amounted to an indoor swimming pool – there was a burst of light. The temperature seemed to rise a bit as the light continued to pulse in short bursts. Piranha saw what the source was when he reached the surface. Another kid, this one in armor, was using a lazar to keep his squad at bay. He shook his head and flung the kid onto the boat – scratch that, the freaking yacht – to hopefully bleed out. Fucking rich people.

He and a few others were distracted by another large impact on the water. Three more of the little punks were dropped in for them to deal with. Two of his squadmates converged on the larger student. He went for the other boy, hoping to tear apart his bulky elbows.

That was a mistake. When he got into striking range, a strip of cloth or plastic, shot out of the elbow. It jammed into Piranha’s mouth. He bit down out of instinct, only to discover that the long strip was coated in adhesive.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, something in the water was making his eyes and gills sting. Piranha breached the surface again to find most of the others there as well. The students were taking advantage of their distraction to climb aboard the boat; the elbow boy using his adhesive strips as a rope.

Once aboard they panicked for a moment, likely finding the small one. Then they used the adhesive tape to fish out the armored kid, the pink girl throwing acid to drive the squad away from him. At least that explained the stinging.

 Piranha was still struggling with the tape when the kids started throwing purple balls into the water. Whatever their strategy had been it fell apart when someone got bored and used their hydrokinesis to crack the ship in half.

 

Aizawa was not disappointing. Even though they had sent a wave of mutants at him, his use of the capture scarf was brilliant. He would snare two or three of those rushing him and slam them into the largest cluster of villains in his range. His flips and jumps gave him enough mobility to keep from being swarmed. Strong punches and insane kicks peppered the mob in a desperate bid for field control, which he was gradually achieving.

“The final boss,” Aizawa said as he tried to rush them through the crowd.

Izuku noticed Tomura counting the seconds between blinks. “First it was twenty-three seconds, then twenty-four, then twenty, then seventeen,” Tomura said as he rushed forward to meet the hero with surprising speed. He reached out for Aizawa, who struck him in the gut. While the blow knocked the wind out of him, Tomura kept his feet under him and grabbed Aizawa’s elbow. “It was hard to see when you were jumping around, but I found your tell. It’s your hair.” His quirk began to eat through Aizawa’s sleeve. “When it drops, you stop using your quirk. You’re having to blink more often.” The disintegration was affecting Aizawa’s skin now. Izuku flinched in sympathy, remembering the pain of even brief contact. “Don’t push yourself too hard now, you might just fall apart. Wouldn’t that be a shame?”

 Aizawa’s skin dried and cracked before flaking off, just as the sleeve had. The muscle was unaffected, so far. Aizawa struck Tomura in the jaw and made to leap away. He was slammed to the ground by Izuku’s shadow. As much as he sympathized with the hero, he was here to protect Tomura.

Tomura stood up. “That annoying quirk of yours isn’t suited for drawn-out fights against big groups, is it? Don’t you think you’re a little out of your element here, Eraserhead? You’re much better at working stealthily. You’re known for surprise attacks, not fighting head to head.”

Izuku felt numb and light-headed. His shadow was gone and Aizawa was on his feet again, breathing heavily.

“But despite knowing that you didn’t hesitate to jump into the middle of this fight,” Tomura continued. “To put your students at ease.”

An underling with long sharp claws slashed at Aizawa, putting him on the defensive, momentarily. He quickly bound them and struck another. He pulled them into a third and flung the pair away while punching a fourth.

Izuku hadn’t realized he’d started moving until he dodged the flying villains. His shadow reformed and raced toward Aizawa’s feet, but the hero leaped to avoid it. He turned the jump into a kick and knocked out another villain.

“Look at you, you’re still standing. You really are so cool!” Tomura gushed in a way that made Izuku think he might finally understand what’s so great about heroes. “Oh, by the way, hero, I am not the final boss.”

Nomu grabbed Aizawa by the head and slammed him into the concrete.

“What do you think of him, Eraserhead?” Tomura asked as the hero lay motionless, barely moaning beneath the crouching beast. One of its massive hands held down Aizawa’s torso, the other held his already damaged arm, now snapped at the elbow. “He’s the bioengineered anti symbol of peace, but you can call him Nomu.”

The nomu snapped and crushed more bones in Aizawa’s arm. Izuku reminded himself that the man had access to Recovery Girl, he would have scars but should retain the ability to use his arm. He hoped.

“You can erase people’s powers. That’s irritating but it’s nothing impressive. When faced with true devastating power you might as well be a quirkless child.”

Aizawa struggled to turn far enough to see the nomu. For an instant, his hair lifted. Then the beast smashed his other arm. Aizawa cried out in pain. It was such an agonized sound it brought bile to the back of Izuku’s throat. The nomu slammed his head into the concrete with enough force to flower it.

Izuku stepped up to Tomura. He leaned in and whispered, “That’s enough, we don’t need to kill him. He’s out of this fight.”

Tomura scowled from behind his hand, but Kurogiri appeared next to them. “Tomura Shigaraki.”

“Did you kill Thirteen?” Tomura asked.

“The rescue hero is out of commission,” he replied. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Izuku said. “Tomura was just showing off Nomu to Eraserhead.”

“Really?” Tomura said. “You don’t think I was going overboard?”

“You know my preferences on the matter. The decision is yours,” Izuku replied. “I just wish the three-star completion task would show up so we can get this over with.”

 Tomura gave a soft chuckle. “Fine. Nomu drop him.”

When the nomu stepped away, Izuku could see a pool of blood forming around Aizawa’s head. His stomach clenched into a knot, which helped with the nausea. He looked to Tomura, his vision swimming slightly.

“What would you even do to help him, Stray?” Tomura asked an almost mocking tone to his voice.

“Wanna find out?” Izuku managed to ask. His voice wavered.

“Why not? Let’s see if you can save him.”

Izuku trotted over to the downed hero. He wasted no words, slightly afraid of his voice being recognized despite the modulator. Izuku assessed the damage. The first thing to do was staunch the bleeding coming from his face. Izuku carefully took the capture scarf from around Aizawa’s neck.

Aizawa’s hair rose again. Izuku pushed past the fear and numbness. His shadow was gone. Aizawa winced and blinked as Izuku tore his good sleeve off. His shadow was back; subconsciously he stretched it out and ran it over Tomura and Kurogiri’s feet. He folded the sleeve and placed it over Aizawa’s eyes before wrapping the capture scarf around his head a few times.

Then he examined the hero’s mangled arms and decided that immobilizing them was best. He carefully rolled Aizawa over. The hero cried out in pain, eliciting a sympathetic response from Izuku, “I know, I know. Just hold out a little longer. I’m sure help is on the way.”

Tomura laughed out loud at that.

Izuku placed Aizawa’s arms across his chest and bound them with the capture scarf. “Everything will be fine.”

The doors at the top of the platform burst open. A cloud of dust rushed out. Sharp, authoritative steps cut through the din of distant fighting. “I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone wrong here when Thirteen and Aizawa didn’t answer my calls. So, I hurried over.” All Might, his face a mask of pure rage, stood at the top of the stairs and proclaimed, “Have no fear students for I am here.”

As he threw his suit jacket to the side Tomura said, “Finally.”

Chapter 19: All In

Notes:

I did a lot of retooling to this chapter before posting, so it's basically unbetaed. Please let me know if you find any mistakes, either grammatical or with plot/cohesion. Thank you in advance!

“I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone wrong here when Eraserhead and Thirteen didn’t answer my calls, so I hurried over.” He took steady measured steps toward the stairs as he spoke, taking in the carnage and letting the gravitas of his presence sink in. “Have no fear, students, because I am here!”

All Might was not smiling. Not as he approached the stairs, surveying the chaos. Not as he made his uplifting declaration. And not as he ripped his tie off to prepare for the fight to come.

“After all this waiting the heroic piece of trash shows up,” Tomura said, actually sounding a little relieved. “Let’s clear this level and go home!”

Then All Might leaped from the top of the stairs. There was a brief flash as he activated One for All. One of the mooks went down. Then another was struck. And two more. The rest of the startled crowd was off their feet before the second man hit the ground.

Izuku had leaped back, next to Tomura, when All Might first moved, but he still felt the force of air being displaced by the man’s unfathomable speed.

All Might knelt to check Aizawa’s injuries. “I’m sorry Aizawa, I should have been here.” He gently lifted the barely conscious man and in the time between racing heartbeats, he was laying him at the foot of the stairs.

“He’s still fast,” Tomura whined. “I couldn’t even see him when he moved. But he’s not as fast as I thought he would be, not as fast as he used to be. I guess it’s true after all, All Might really is getting weaker.” His voice grew in confidence as he spoke, and Tomura even gave a little deranged-sounding laugh.

All Might had schooled his features into his trademark smile by the time he turned to face them. He called out “Carolina Smash,” as he flew towards them.

Izuku pulled Tomura out of the line of fire as Tomura calmly commanded the nomu.

The shockwave of All Might’s attack sent debris flying and the water from the fountain behind them spraying over the concrete. The nomu was unfazed, much to All Might’s surprise. The fight was on in earnest.

The nomu barely missed All Might as he ducked under its powerful arms. He surged forward landing a punishing blow to its abs. Undaunted, it grabbed at him again, and All Might gave it a left-right combo to the face.

All Might leaped back but the nomu followed nearly as fast. “Doesn’t even matter where I punch you, does it?”

He stretched his shadow out towards the combatants. The nomu wasn’t fast enough to do the job, but if it could just get a hold of him.

As the pair continued their dance of misses and ineffective blows, Tomura couldn’t help but monologue. “That’s because Nomu here has shock absorption, All Might. The only way you’re going to hurt him is to slowly gouge out his flesh. Of course, I don’t think he’ll sit back and let you do that. You’ve finally met your match.”

Just as All Might was going in for a grab of his own, Izuku wrapped his shadow around him, pinning his limbs to his body and forcing the hero to the ground. Nomu mindlessly took advantage and punched All Might hard enough to cause a crater. Tomura stumbled back a step due to the wind force.

All Might spared them no words as he grunted and flexed. Slowly, at first, he pulled his arms away from his body. And then, the burn of Izuku’s shadow stretching beyond its limit was replaced by lances of icy pain as it was ripped to shreds. Pieces of it flittered to the ground like macabre confetti before disappearing. Unlike when his shadow was erased, he could still feel it; a skittering agony like ice and electricity wired straight into his spine that pulsed with his rapid heartbeat. He doubled over biting off a scream.

He was vaguely aware of both the nomu continuing its assault on All Might, and Tomura moving to his side. He heard Kurogiri’s concerned voice on the other side, muffled and distant. Then, Izuku was aware of the rough cracked concrete on his tender and raw shadow.

In the background, Nomu rained punches down on All Might. Quickly, the freed hero began blocking the blows. And in seconds, he found the beast’s rhythm and started countering with percussive blows of his own.

“I’m okay,” Izuku assured them as he righted himself. He leaned on Kurogiri as he tentatively dragged his shadow across the now uneven surface. It felt like dragging an open wound over gravel. He grimaced and bit back a hiss.

“That doesn’t look okay,” Tomura rasped, his voice laced with concern.

Izuku nodded. “I will be.” He couldn’t move his shadow as fast or stretch it as far, but it was there. The boy stalked toward where All Might was slowly powering to his feet and snaked his shadow up All Might’s side, unnoticed. He considered his options before lashing the shadow around the man’s wrist. He pulled it toward the ground as the nomu continued to beat All Might mindlessly, each strike cracking the concrete beneath them.

All Might struggled to block with his restrained arm as it was pulled and tugged; subtly changing his position at critical moments. Even so, it was more of a nuisance than a problem. All Might pulled his arm back for a vicious haymaker that flung the nomu off him. Despite the warning, it pulled Izuku forward. He slammed to his knees as All Might stood.

Sparing him only a quick glare, the hero returned his full attention to the nomu.

Face to face with the legend, Izuku could compartmentalize enough not to think about gentle, frail Yagi-san with whom he’d shared coffee and wisdom, and whose smile was never the warmest but was always genuine. He thought only of All Might. Not the quiet moments in the hospital or the months of training. It was one moment on a rooftop where a hero had a chance to say anything else but instead crushed his dreams.

And despite that pain – it still hurt like having his arm ripped off – he didn’t want the man dead or even brutalized. He just couldn’t hate him. The grip of his shadow weakened with his resolve. He couldn’t do this. He couldn–

Kurogiri’s warp gate opened beneath All Might, his mist caressing the boy’s shadow. Izuku’s grip tightened once more, squeezing hard enough to make his bones creak. Izuku breathed through his nose and gritted his teeth to combat the pain.

“Normally,” Kurogiri said in a grave tone, “I wouldn’t want blood and viscera flooding the insides of my warp gates, but I’ll make an exception for a hero as great as you. Since you’re too fast to see with the naked eye we’ll just have to restrain you.”

Between the three of them, he seemed manageable. The other end of the gate was near the top of the dome. Izuku only had to suspend him in the portal as Kurogiri closed it. Izuku dug his climbing claws into the floor for extra grip as he supported five hundred and sixty pounds.

All Might gave up blocking momentarily to claw uselessly at the shadow binding his wrist. His fingers couldn’t get purchase to tear it free. It was immaterial; a slight lack of light.

As the warp gate began tightening around his chest All Might gripped the edge to wedge it open. Every moment he focused on the pair was a hundred blows from the nomu that were ineffectively blocked.

All Might pulled his knees up to his chest and attempted to wrench the warp gate open. Kurogiri flinched at the sudden pressure and pain. The warp gate widened instinctually, dropping the hero.

Izuku could either let go or be dragged into the gate. He chose to drop into the gate, trusting Kurogiri to catch him. He screwed his eyes shut and held his breath as the sensation of falling overwhelmed him.

In the air, All Might was more vulnerable to the warp gates, but out of reach of the nomu. That brief reprieve was all it took for him to get his bearings. “You’re a tenacious one,” he said, trying to free his wrist once more.

Izuku didn’t respond. He also didn’t throw up in his mask as the warp gate that opened below him spat him sideways at ground level, so he counted it as a win. All Might was pulled with him.

“This is getting you nowhere,” the hero boomed as he too fell sideways.

Unfortunately, people who are acting as distractions, tend to be distracting, even when you know that’s what they are doing. The nomu grabbed him, burying its claws in his ribs. Izuku kept his shadow taut. Kurogiri moved his portal up All Might’s body and squeezed, heedless of the nomu’s fingers.

The warp gate constricted around All Might’s chest. The boy knew it was cutting directly across his scar. He could hear the sick grinding snap of his ribs failing under the stress. Blood was oozing out of the corner of his mouth. The nomu ignored the brilliant line of blood blossoming across its flesh.

They were doing this. All Might was going to die. Tears burned at the corners of Izuku’s eyes. He blinked them away as blood - All Might’s - began to soak All Might’s shirt. Izuku prayed for a miracle, for them to fail, for help to arrive, or for this just to be over quickly. Anything. 

With a sudden and familiar scream of rage, Kurogiri was tackled to the ground. Bakugo crouched over him the hand pinning his collar crackling with explosions. His warp gate wavered.

Bakugo was a little worse for wear. One ankle was clearly dislocated or broken, his nose was bloodied, and a latticework of bruises was already forming on his arms. Toga would have loved him.

The nomu was frozen save for its face and hands. Todoroki stood calm and stoic, seemingly unfazed by the day’s events. “One of your poorly trained thugs told me that you’re here because you think you can kill All Might.”

All Might wrenched free of the portal, shattering the frozen nomu into massive chunks, as Izuku’s shadow left his wrist. Rather than capitalizing, he got himself some distance. He clutched his chest as he stood between Todoroki and Tomura.

Another shout alerted Tomura of an incoming aerial attack and he was able to jump back almost lazily. “Damn! That was going to be cool,” Kirishima complained after he stuck the landing.

“Found your body that ti–” Bakugo was cut off as he slammed to the ground wrapped tightly by Shadow Bind.

At the same time, the nomu was regenerating its body. Izuku didn’t know it could do that. He made a mental note to ask about it later.

“What is this? I thought you said his power was shock absorption,” All Might shouted.

“I never said it was his only quirk,” Tomura replied. “He also has super regeneration. Nomu has been modified to take you on at even one hundred percent of your power. He’s basically a highly efficient punching bag that hits back.”

Izuku felt one of Bakugo’s ribs break under the pressure. Bakugo cried out in pain drawing All Might’s attention, and a wave of ice. Kurogiri cut off its path with a portal, redirecting the quirk. Todoroki stopped just shy of All Might’s heel, a grimace replacing his neutral expression.

All Might stared almost shell-shocked at the rapidly regenerating nomu. After glancing at the students, he set his face in a grim countenance and strode back to the creature. “I’m sorry you have to see this, children.” He pulled his fist back and punched the creature with more force than they had seen so far.

Debris and dust flew up around them. Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth and steam wafted off him. 

At the bottom of the deep crater that formed from the force of the blow was a chunky red smear.

“I really am getting weaker,” All Might said as he turned his attention back to Tomura. “Let him go. You’ve been bested, villains.”

Tomura growled. “He beat me! He’s not –” he was cut off by another pained cry from Bakugo.

“While I would just as soon leave, Tomura doesn’t seem to be finished here,” Izuku spoke. His voice was surprisingly steady. “So, I don’t think I’ll be giving up my hostage.” He could see the steam rising off his body, despite the dust swirling about the hero.

“I agree with Stray,” Kurogiri said. “He is weakened. Nomu’s attacks were effective. Our allies are recovering. We can kill All Might together.”

Todoroki sent a wave of ice at the stirring villains; cold hate in his eyes.

Tomura began to rush All Might while Kurogiri filled the area with his mist. Todoroki tried to send some ice their way, but Izuku slid Bakugo over the rough terrain into its path. Bakugo gritted his teeth at the jarring movement but he was done giving them the satisfaction of hearing his pain.

All Might was slowed significantly. Portals made the ground dangerous to navigate. Tomura struck him with an open palm but had to dodge away before it could really take hold. The tattered remains of All Might’s shirt crumbled to dust revealing his scar and the freshly torn skin from being squeezed by Kurogiri’s warp gate.

All Might coughed up blood and staggered back. Tomura went at him again, his hand outstretched. He pulled it back and hissed in pain. He’d been shot.

 

He could tell that the shark mutations could smell blood in the water as the boat sank. The stinging had gotten worse and the balls were sticky, but the kids were focused on fleeing rather than fighting or capturing.

Pulling the last bit of tape from his mouth, Piranha headed towards the group. He figured he could get in close enough on the surface and then dive to pull one of them below. As much as he wanted to avoid the acid quirk injuring the girls was high on the list. He wasn’t sure it was worth it, but he hadn’t committed to a target as he approached.

He made his decision in a split second as he lunged forward and down. She was the only uninjured one. He grabbed one thick thigh in his jaws and plunged down into the depth for a few seconds before releasing her. After all, they weren’t supposed to kill them; just harm them. The stinging in the water increased to a burning. Piranha hacked and coughed, his lungs trying to expel the irritant.

As he dove deeper into the water, the facility shuttered and shook. On top of everything else, there was an earthquake; unless this place was designed to simulate one. He dipped into the wreckage of the yacht to shelter the quake. Fucking rich people.

 

The ugly one’s hands were bruised and bloodied, Spike was sure a couple of his fingers were broken. It was a shame that they were paid to scar these kids, they were both good fighters.

“There’s not much we can do to mess up a pair of mutant freaks like you, but,” Spike pulled a serrated spine out of his forearm, “we’ll try.”

The canine mutation next to him smacked Spike in the back of the head. “Sorry about him, some people are just assholes.” He scratched his cheek. “But we are going to have to maim you.”

“You will fail,” the bird said. His shadow reared up again, its roar sending the others scurrying back in fear. “Surrender now, you cannot hope to win. Your charges would only be trespassing and assault. Far less than if you resist.”

“Kid,” the canine said, “we are well beyond mere assault charges. I’m sorry but we are here for pay, and if we don’t uphold our end, well, our families won’t be getting the bodies back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Enough talk,” Spike snapped. That was too much information already. He threw his spine at the bird. It glanced off his beak. “That monster is getting tired. We shouldn’t let them rest.”

With only light grumbling, a few of the melee specialists rushed the pair.

 

They had finally tired the pair of mutants out. Frog-girl was fully passed out and littered with scraps and burns. Tail-boy, while still standing, wasn’t fairing much better. His chest heaved with each breath; as likely from exertion as broken bones. Smoke Bomb almost felt sorry for them.

Almost.

 Flash Bang pulled a knife from his belt. “I’m getting real sick of chasing you two.” He closed the distance, leading with the knife.

The boy tried to knock the knife out of his hand with his tail, earning himself a long gash in the process. They traded blows, the boy coming out worse for wear each time. Flash Bang would be sporting a patchwork of bruises in the morning, but his opponent was holding back to prevent injuries. He had never been in a real fight before and it showed.

All his skill and training were for not as the boy’s arms were covered in a crisscross of cuts. And he needed to keep batting Smoke Bomb away from the girl. Blood dripped from his wounds and the smoke inhalation was clearly getting to him as he hacked and coughed between presses.

It was luck they had orders not to kill or he would be done for with all the handicaps he was playing with.

“Hey, you know what would be funny?” Smoke called.

“What?”

“A blind hero.”

Flash Bang thought about it, before grinning. “It would make him mostly immune to our quirks. Why not?” He began slashing wildly at the boy’s face.

The pair laughed and jeered until a hard impact from somewhere else in the facility rocked the dome they were under. Panels fell from the ceiling.

“Maybe that’s enough?”

“Send someone to check for the signal.”

 

Two of their targets were out of commission, and the third was outnumbered and outmatched. Jammer had her ear jack wrapped around his hand and was pulling her around by it. The area was still soaked with saltwater, Tazer could practically see the paths his electricity would take, he was so charged up. Most of their team was at least conscious, and several of them were busy freeing their restrained allies.

“See what you did? You two little girlies cause quite a bit of damage. I think you should make it up to us.”

“Stick to the script, Jammer,” Tazer growled.

“Boss wanted them scarred, right? That’s all I’m proposing. She lets us all have a turn, without putting up a fuss and we don’t take it out on her two helpless friends.”

She glanced between the blanket-wrapped girl and the brain-fried boy with his pathetic ‘whey, whey’ noises.

“I’m sure that’s not what he meant… but he’s not here to clarify and anyone that’s down to murder All Might has got to be serious business.”

“Right? So, let’s form a nice orderly line and take turns. What do you say, princess? You gonna cooperate?”

She stared at him in either disbelief or incomprehension. “Wha – what do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, hero,” Tazer snarled. “Wiggle your emo ass out of those skinny jeans and let us have some real fun, or will hold you down and do it anyway, but to your friends too.”

She tried to jerk away from Jammer, injuring her ear more. “No. Let go of me! Oh god. Help!”

The villains all laughed. “Princess, you’re the hero. You are the ‘help’. No one is coming to save you.” Jammer shoved her against the cliff wall and grabbed at her belt. “Not going to play nice? Fine by me, I like it when they fight back. Somebody grab the boy, I want him to watch.”

A gunshot rang out from somewhere in the facility, but that had been happening since the beginning of the fight. Tazer and the others ignored it. Much to their detriment. Two more shots rang out, blood exploding from Jammer’s arms.

The teachers had arrived.

 

Izuku released Bakugo to grab Tomura while pulling his bell and chucking it as high as he could. There were only a few heroes present, but this was game over. After the flash-bang grenade exploded, warp gates appeared all over the compound. More shots rained down on them. A few grazed Kurogiri’s collar and one impacted Izuku’s shoulder. He was grateful for the upgraded body armor.

A blast of sound swept down the stairs taking down those mooks for the third time. A faint sweet smell permeated the area while the sharp click of high heels descended the stairs.

A wall of cement raised between them and the students, both stopping Izuku from recapturing Bakugo and preventing the reveal of All Might’s true form to them as he collapsed to his knees. The swirling dust and wafting steam mixed to shield him from the villain’s view.

But Izuku knew they’d won, in the only way that mattered. If backup hadn’t arrived when it did, he’d be dead. And some of the children would be as well.

Kurogiri enveloped both of them and warped away as another hail of bullets rained down.

 

Nezu sat on Vlad King’s shoulder as his staff assessed the situation and regained control in a matter of seconds. It only took three shots fired by Snipe to force the enemy to retreat. Present Mic and Midnight proceeded down the stairs, both to render aid to their friend (Shota) and to subdue the battered thugs at the base. Cementoss followed close behind. Snipe gave them cover fire while the villains fled. The fight, as it was, was over as soon as they arrived. (Confident enough to take on All Might, but not overconfident).

Nezu’s whiskers twitched as he observed, to the best of his ability. They used a flash bang to cover their portal user as he facilitated their retreat. (Paramilitary?)

He allowed Vlad to set him down once the dust had mostly settled. He was grateful that All Might had tired of his long-winded lecture and insisted on calling the USJ again, as well as both Eraserhead and Thirteen’s cell phones. When there was no answer, even when Nezu had called himself, he too became worried and sent All Might ahead while he quietly gathered the teachers that could be spared. He had hoped that they were being ridiculous. Overcautious. But, here they were, barely in time to save their students.

“Well, my, my, my,” Snipe said in his tinny drawl. His voice seemed to get swallowed by the vastness of the dome.

“I can’t believe we let them escape after everything they did here,” Vlad King said surveying the destruction.

“They did catch us completely by surprise,” Nezu admitted, trying to keep his tone light. A flinch from Blind Eye told him that he had slipped too far into his cheerful, Stepfordesque nothing-is-wrong tone; or as he put it, audio uncanny valley. “Now we need to make sure all the students are okay.”

“Right,” his staff said in unison. They shunted their emotions to the side and got to work.

 

Hizashi stood at the bottom of the stairs. He couldn’t tell how hurt Shota was for sure. There was a pool of blood he hoped wasn’t his. He knew it was. That they’d bound him in his capture weapon was likely the only reason he hadn’t bled out. Still, it twisted his guts to see the symbol of his friend’s strength turned against him; bound and blindfolded.

Yamada wanted to scream. Sho hated having his eyes covered. The whole thing sickened him. He took a calming breath. Then another. And another. Soon he was gulping air. Hizashi clamped down on his rising panic. There were still students here. He turned away from Shota. Out of sight, out of mind.

Their students needed him. Hizashi shoved his feelings down, and Present Mic took charge of the situation. “Alright listeners, if I can get you all to gather near the stairs that’d be great! Just remember to keep a path clear for the Emergency Personnel! In the meantime, if anyone needs some first aid I’ll be coming around with a kit!”

The students had done a fair job of patching themselves up, given the circumstances. The worst of it, a nasty bite on Mineta’s arm, was already bandaged up. Then Jiro and Kaminari arrived, dragging a bulky blanket. Jiro was crying. Kaminari looked dazed.

“What’s wrong, little listeners?” Mic asked as he strode over to meet them. The pit of his stomach dropped as the gears snapped together. With these two, it made eighteen students. Someone was missing. Or wrapped in the blanket. Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.

Yaoyorozu’s body was covered in electrical burns but she was breathing. Mic hid his relief just as he hid his panic. “Right.  I’ll radio up to the EMTs to let them know what we’re dealing with. Kaminari, there’s a first aid kit with Iida to stop the bleeding on Jiro’s ear.”

He watched them just long enough to be sure they were following his instructions before turning to Yaoyorozu to take her vitals. She was stable for now but needed to be treated in a hospital.

 

Kurogiri patched Tomura’s hand first. While not life-threatening the bleeding needed to be stanched, plus he would need to be ready to see Ujiko for surgery. The first metacarpal was shattered. It could take eight weeks just to heal the bone. The few scrapes he received from being dragged across the broken concrete were cleaned and bandaged.

The boy was leaning against the wall of the lab feeling numb. He wondered idly if his shock was from an injury or emotional. He’d hurt Bakugo, on purpose. He’d tried to help kill All Might, actively. He used Bakugo to shield Tomura.

He slid down the wall, his legs no longer able to support him. He could feel hot tears rolling down to be absorbed by his mask.

Silently, Kurogiri began to check his injuries. He took the jacket and breastplate off. The bullet was still lodged in the shoulder. Kurogiri set it aside. A bruise was just starting to form, but it would be massive. “I have to check for breaks,” he warned.

Izuku whimpered as he prodded the area causing Kurogiri to frown. Nothing felt broken, but that was an unusual response to a mere bruise. He’d make sure they took X-rays.

“I know, I know. Just hold out a little longer,” Tomura said, his voice filled with mirth. “I’m sure help is on the way. Everything will be fine.” He patted the boy’s hair with his good hand as Kurogiri stepped away.

He surged forward, capturing Tomura in a one-armed hug. His shadow wrapped loosely around him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. That stupid hero’s the one who shot me. And you pulled me out of there so fast. I don’t mind the little scrapes,” Tomura soothed in his raspy voice. “And you were right about setting other goals. It wasn’t perfect but we cleared that stage.”

He shook his head. “I lied to you. I didn’t tell you about his time limit. He turns into a normal person.  We might have been able to –”

“Is that what these tears are about, Stray?” Tomura asked. “Sensei figured that out years ago, after their big fight. I mean the shape change is news, but he’s only been out in public for about three hours a day for the last five years. We took that limit into account. We couldn’t guarantee that he’d do anything beforehand, and we didn’t have time to get our forces together and put him through a marathon of petty criminals.”

Izuku looked up from where he had buried his face in Tomura’s knees.

“Now, let’s get you to the bathroom, wash your face, and get those contacts out,” Tomura said hauling him to his feet one-handed. “I don’t think all that concrete dust is good for them.”

“Why are you being so nice?” he asked suspiciously.

“You’re one of us. You may have taken pity on Eraserhead, but you nearly killed your Kacchan to save Kurogiri. And that line about not giving up your hostage was so badass. I’m glad Giran changed your outfit for this. It wouldn’t have had the same impact otherwise,” Tomura said. “Come on, let go with that so I can walk.”

Izuku unwound his shadow from Tomura.

“Actually, Kurogiri can bring him a basin to get cleaned up. Ujiko is ready for you,” Sensei said as he walked into the room. He slid a stool over to the boy. “Sit.”

“Are you mad at me?” he asked as he watched Tomura disappear into the next room.

“No,” he said. As usual, his voice went from warm to cold, but that transition was starting to be a comfort. It was a reflection of his feelings, and that he no longer honeyed his words meant he trusted Izuku enough to be honest with him. “I knew you were still holding back. It was only natural. But you chose Tomura in the heat of the moment.” Sensei reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. He pressed gently on the top of his head, encouraging him to sit. “There we go. Now tell me what happened. That’s a nasty injury.”

“My shoulder? It’s just bruised.”

“While I meant your shadow, either way, I don’t care for my concern being dismissed.”

He squawked and started to flail his arms in an exaggerated placating gesture but winced in pain and gripped his shoulder. “That was a mistake.”

“It usually is,” Sensei replied. Izuku turned his head away as he inspected the shoulder. “Kurogiri is correct. Nothing is broken.” He rubbed the area gently. “You’ll need to eat something soon.”

Izuku nodded. He was already feeling the ebb of adrenalin that would allow his quirk to activate.

“Your shadow has tears in it,” Sensei told him. “I want you back here in the morning to make sure it’s healed. You can give a detailed report then. But for now, what caused this?”

“All Might. I, I restrained him. He shredded it like tissue paper. It was, it–” He shook his head.

“Try not to move it around too much today.”

“When I sleep, it just sort of cocoons.”

“Maybe try not sleeping with Kurogiri today?”

Izuku blushed. He looked away and pouted. “Yeah, that might help. But I don’t have to like it.”

Sensei laughed. “I know today was difficult. However, if it weren’t for you we would have lost more men, and Tomura might, might have been severely injured. You were a very lucky find. I’d say a godsend if I believed in any.”

“I’d say I’m only what you made me but then Kurogiri would lecture me again.”

“And rightly so,” Sensei said. “You are an amazing base to build upon.”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“Thank you for being worth saving,” he replied. “Now you two should head to the bar, I’ll contact you when Tomura is out of surgery.”

Notes:

Bio Card
Name: Mitsuno 'Blind Eye'
Kanji: 光野
光 light, radiance, 野 field, plain, wilderness
Quirk: Tremor Sense – He can 'see' vibrations in the ground (and to a lesser extent the air) allowing him to make a mental map of an area up to six hundred meters in diameter.
Description: A subdued blond man in a simple white jumpsuit and purple visor.
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: March 3
Height: 5’9”
Blood Type: AB
Likes/dislikes: Rain, Routine, Listening to other people talk. Drama, waking up early, thick shoes.

Chapter 20: Aftermath

Piranha looked over his squad. The warp gate had opened shortly after the shaking stopped, and those able swam through. It was a little humiliating to have to drag some of them through the portal because they were stuck together with tape and balls, but the squad had relatively few injuries. Thankfully, the balls dissolved on their own after an hour.

Other teams were not as lucky. The entrance team and the landslide team were missing. The mountain crew was down several members, he couldn’t be sure how many as he hadn’t really paid them that much attention, but he knew Jammer hadn’t come back. The fire, earthquake, and rain teams were both badly beaten and missing a few people. Which was odd because they were some of the farthest away from the point the heroes would have come in.

Still, for an attack against both Yuuei and All Might, he thought a little over half their numbers returning was good. Especially when they weren’t a well-trained group. They were random street thugs given less than twenty-four hours of warning. They had earned their pay. Now all they had to do was hang out until that payment was delivered and then go their separate ways.

“Why are we still waiting?”

“That’s the problem with cash, man, it’s gotta show up in person.”

“It’s taking too long.”

“You’re just impatient.”

“Maybe I’d be more patient if I wasn’t standing in freezing cold knee-deep water.” He gave the huddled aquatics a pointed look.

“It’s not cold,” Piranha said, “but it is mildly acidic.” He coughed. “Ow.”

“Yeah, I wish they’d hurry up too, I could do with a shower.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” a smooth voice came from the ceiling. “It will only be a few moments longer. Showers are on your left and food on your right.” Two panels slid open in the walls.

“Uh, thanks,” Piranha said cautiously. He peered through one door and found about ten shower stalls. “Come on, guys.” He led his squad into the next room.

“Wait,” one of the hydrokinetics stopped him. “Fin, I might just be paranoid, but…”

“It’s cool,” the blue-haired man replied, stepping past them. “There is water in the pipes, some rust and metal, but nothing unusual. It connects to the main system,” he pointed to the wall, “that way, and there’s a massive amount of salt water,” he gestured in an arc, “over there. It’s not a trap or double cross, or anything.” He stepped into one of the cubicles and turned on the spray. “Now that is cold.”

There was a collective nervous chuckle from the squad as they filed in and they flinched when the door slammed shut behind them.

“Shit.”

“Do not be alarmed,” the voice said. “Your payment and the exit are through the door on your left. The tunnel lets out into the ocean, about ten miles from Kushiro, on a private beach. You have done well, we may contact you again in the future.”

A door opened as promised. Ten waterproof bags lay on the floor of a small antechamber. A set of stairs led down into a tiled pool. One wall of the pool opened into a rocky tunnel, which presumably led out into the ocean as promised. Fin, at least, didn’t say otherwise.

“Thanks.” The ten of them decided as one to skip showering, the seawater would clean away the residual acid from their skin, gills, and lungs. They grabbed their pay and dove into the pool. The tunnel was dark, but one of them was bioluminescent. It was still daylight when they reached the beach, and they had a good laugh about the scary fucker before checking their pay.

In addition to the cash, there was a pair of board shorts and a touristy tee shirt in each. Creepy certainly had a sense of humor. 

 

Flash Bang led the rest of the thugs through the other door, flinching when the shower door slammed shut. That team must have messed up somehow. This side, however, did contain the promised food; a rather nice buffet was set out for them. Sushi and sashimi, fried chicken, tempura, fresh fruit, rice, noodles, soups, tea, coffee, and beer. The place was stocked.

Spike approached the table first; he grabbed himself an array of meats and a beer. “Thanks for your generosity, boss.” He gestured toward the ceiling with his drink.

“You’re welcome.” Another door slid open, revealing an imposing man in a business suit, backlit by bright lights. “Those of you that require medical attention may come this way. Those of you who wish to collect your due and leave may use the door to your right. And those of you who may be interested in another job may relax here until I am available to discuss it.” The man turned and disappeared into the brightly lit room.

A few people started making plates from the buffet, and the rest headed for the exit, even if they needed some medical attention. A couple grabbed a quick bite or a drink, before also making for the exit. When the last one was through the door, it slammed shut.

Eighteen moneybags and a stack of clothes were lined up next to a door. They took their cue and changed before leaving. The clothes were a variety of shorts and tropical-themed button-ups. The four unclaimed payments remained untouched. They felt immense relief when a panel slid open and led them into the basement of an abandoned hotel. They picked their way carefully to the surface and left in twos and threes to not draw attention in the small beach community.

 

Spike felt drowsy and a little nauseous. It wasn’t all of a sudden but it had been building for a while. He looked at the other three occupants of the room. They were looking a bit rough too. “Shit.”

“Is there a problem?” the ceiling voice asked.

“You drugged us.”

“Maybe you’ve had one too many beers?”

“You fucking drugged us,” he snapped, his speech slurring.

The thug next to him dropped to the floor.

“It seems I have. Well, you can’t really blame me; I lost a valuable asset in that mission. I’m just recouping my losses, after all. And who would miss a quartet of unsavory, belligerent, dullards such as yourselves? You are lacking the self-preservation evolution gave to pond scum; as evident by the scum having left when given the opportunity.”

Spike growled and pulled a pair of spines from his arms. “Fucking kill you!” He staggered forward, his knees wobbled. He fell and darkness claimed him. The last thing he was aware of was a peal of quiet laughter as if at some joke he didn’t get.

 

Izuku stripped in the bar. Kurogiri collected each item as it came off and put it aside for cleaning. Standing in the middle of the room in a snug t-shirt and underwear, he should have felt self-conscious. He knew in some idle part of his brain that Sensei might have visual as well as audio surveillance on the room but he could not muster up the energy to care. Everything felt so unreal anyway.

Kurogiri took off his collar and placed it with Izuku’s things. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The boy nodded in response. He could feel the warm thrum of his quirk throughout his body, even in his shadow. He wrapped his arms around Kurogiri’s neck when he approached. Izuku was thrilled to be lifted by strong solid arms.

“I do not want to take advantage of you,” Kurogiri told him, “but I’m a bad man who does bad things. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself.”

Words like those should have made him nervous. Instead, all Izuku felt was the pleasant warmth of being loved. Kurogiri had little interest in sex, mostly admiring it aesthetically and craving the intimacy that could be found there. If there was something Kurogiri wanted to do to him, it would be intimate, not carnal. And as exhausted as the boy felt now that the adrenaline had worn off, Kurogiri must be just as tired. He had opened so many portals in the fight, and transported so many into and away from the USJ facility. Izuku couldn’t imagine Kurogiri hurting him, or forcing him into something he wasn’t ready for. I promise to wait.

He found Kurogiri’s lips and kissed him. It was slow and deep and ignited a fire in Izuku. He broke away for air and began peppering Kurogiri’s neck with kisses, licks, and light nips. His hips bucked grinding him into Kurogiri’s abdomen, eliciting a dark earthy chuckle from the older man.

“I should get you something to eat first, so you can protest properly,” he said, even as he warped them into the downstairs bathroom. He set Izuku down in front of the sink. “Get your contacts out while I start the shower.”

The boy washed his hands and face before pulling the contacts out. Glad that they were disposable, he dropped them in the trash because of all the dust. Izuku stared at the green eyes in the mirror. Kurogiri came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his chest. A small portal brought Kurogiri’s phone to the counter.

Tilting Izuku’s head up by the jaw, he said, “God, you are beautiful,” and began kissing his freckles.  Every touch was electric, each kiss was paradise.

As much as he enjoyed the attention, he wanted more. He pulled back and tugged at his shirt. Kurogiri knelt down and slowly lifted the hem, kissing as he went. He dipped his tongue into Izuku’s belly button causing the boy to jolt. He grabbed his shoulder and winced.

“I’m sorry,” Kurogiri said. He stood and rubbed gentle circles on his bruise. Izuku leaned into the touch. Tugging the shirt off carefully and tossing it into the hamper, Kurogiri soothed him, “I’ll make it up to you.”

Izuku cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. He slowly and deliberately mouthed ‘I love you.’

“I love you too,” Kurogiri replied, just as easily as the first time they had said it to each other. “Here,” He took the boy’s hand and wrapped it around his wrist, “if you want to say ‘I love you,’ you can squeeze here, where your promise rests.”

Squeezing the wrist was rewarded with a sensual moan and a return squeeze.

“You are just perfect.” Kurogiri caressed up his arms and down his chest. He hooked the waistband of the boy’s underwear and slid them off. A kiss was placed on each hip before he was herded into the shower. Izuku enjoyed watching the interplay of the rolling stream and Kurogiri’s swirling mist.

After adjusting the temperature, Kurogiri gently ran a soapy washcloth over Izuku’s arms, shoulders, and chest. His touch was firmer on his back, and he ran his hands indulgently over the boy’s legs as he knelt to wash them. “I’ll spare you some discomfort and allow you to wash your own privates.”

Izuku gave Kurogiri’s wrist a squeeze before accepting the washcloth.

“I love you, too.”

When he finished, Kurogiri poured a generous dollop of shampoo into his hand and began working it into his hair. Concrete dust and black dye quickly turned the white suds a dirty grey. Izuku let out a voiceless moan as Kurogiri’s nails worked across his scalp. His hair was rinsed and given another wash, to be sure it was clean. And because Kurogiri loved the way the boy responded under his hands.

Once they were done, Izuku grabbed a fresh washcloth and patted the seat.

“You don’t have to. I know you must be tired,” Kurogiri protested.

He patted the seat firmly.

Kurogiri sat down. “If you insist, love. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to behave myself as well as you did.”

Izuku started with Kurogiri’s back, gently scrubbing with the washcloth and firmly rubbing tired muscles with the other hand. Mist swirled around him as he washed his partner. True to his word, when the boy moved around to wash Kurogiri’s arms and chest the man did not keep his hands to himself. He caressed Izuku’s arms, chest, neck, and cheeks, frequently murmuring praise and terms of endearment.

Izuku knelt to wash Kurogiri’s legs. He glanced up when he heard Kurogiri’s breath hitch.

“You don’t have to do that.” His eyes darkened. “So beautiful.”

Izuku smiled and impishly nuzzled Kurogiri’s knee. He brought the cloth up and washed his thighs, knees, and calves. For his feet, Izuku lifted each one in turn and rested it on his chest, maintaining as much eye contact as he could with his smitten lover as he washed them.

Kurogiri swallowed thickly when he was done. “One final rinse and then a nice relaxing soak.”

  

The students had been counted and sorted. All nineteen were alive and most could be healed by Recovery Girl. The majority of the ones being sent to the hospital were a precautionary measure. Only Yaoyorozu, still unconscious and covered in electrical burns, was any real worry. Mineta’s arm was badly torn but it was a flesh wound that would likely not require surgery; he was sent for the blood loss. As was Ashido, for the similar but cleaner bite to her thigh. Asui would be put on fluids to combat heat exhaustion, but her hands had already been healed, and while dazed she had regained consciousness. She and Ojiro would be treated for smoke inhalation and minor lacerations.

Kaminari’s nose, Jiro’s ear, Bakugo’s ankle, and Iida’s knee were all healed. The damage to Iida’s mufflers would need repairing but that was something the family would take care of and did not necessitate a hospital visit. Other students had waved off healing until their classmates were taken care of. Aoyama, Koda, Shoji, and Tokoyami had all suffered minor injuries and were eventually healed before being released to their parents. The rest, only six students, were perhaps traumatized but unharmed.

Nemuri watched Nezu as he observed the process, his tiny computer brain analyzing every scrap of information, formulating additional security measures, and desperately trying to stay busy. But all too soon the activity stopped. The children were gone. His beady black eyes were glossy with unshed tears as the worry he’d put off came crashing into him.

She knelt beside him. “I need a furry little hug.”

“I can’t.”

“It’s okay. He’s okay.”

“He’s my son and I can’t even be there for him.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I still have to coordinate with detective Tsukauchi, and there’s paperwork, and a letter to the parents, and –”

Nemuri rested her hands on his shoulders and touched her forehead to his. “No one will blame you for taking time. I’ll handle Tsukauchi. You can stop by your office for a laptop to do paperwork while you sit with ‘Zashi. And the letter can wait until tomorrow. We’ll know more then, anyway.”

“And I’ll send out a memo to the students that classes are canceled tomorrow,” Mitsuno added quietly. Nemuri wasn’t sure when he’d snuck up on them but his presence meant that the police had cleared the facility.

“Yes. Right. Okay.” He looked up at them. “Will you … that is, it’s just faster with longer legs.”

“As long as you don’t let me run into anything,” Mitsuno replied, kneeling. “I have no problem assisting.”

Nemuri smiled as Nezu climbed onto his narrow shoulders.

 

Toga arrived at Izuku’s apartment. “My baby!” She was wrapped in a smothering hug as soon as the door opened. Inko dragged her to the couch heedless of Izuku’s red sneakers.

“I’m fine, mom. I wasn’t even there. Sure, it was on campus but it was so far away from the main building it might as well not be.”

“I don’t want you transferring to the hero course. It’s too dangerous! You’ve been studying support gear after school; couldn’t you try for that instead?”

Toga considered her options carefully. She held Inko for a long time before replying. “Mom, what did you say to me when I asked if I could still be a hero without a quirk?”

“I’m sorry, Izuku! I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry this time. Be here for me, please.”

 

He was alone and hungry; cold and itchy. It was dark and scary. Tears streaked down his face, but he knew better than to bang on the door. No one would dare let him in, and that man would hit him. He hadn’t meant to be bad, he just wanted to play with the other boys. Was it really so bad if everyone liked it?

The world shook and broke apart beneath his feet; an earthquake that tore up the yard and collapsed the house. His poor little corgi was a chunky mess at the bottom of a crater. Dust and debris swirled around like a tornado. It was a villain attack! They were all going to be killed. He ran to the house to warn them, mom, sis, grandma, grandpa… it was too late. They all fell apart like they’d been diced up by razor wire.

A Shadow wrapped around him, offering comfort but when he reached out to stroke it, it exploded into tiny shreds. A scream of pure agony rended the air. They were going to die and there was nothing he could do to save them. He ran towards them, hands outstretched and they recoiled in fear.

Tomura Shigaraki sat bolt upright in bed a scream dying in his throat. He looked around the dim room. It was just him, the soft beep of a heart monitor, and Sensei, who was murmuring reassurances and guiding him to lay back down. He let himself be comforted, but after a while, he asked, “Are you disappointed?”

“No, of course not. You are young and still learning. You did well for your first time, Tomura. And you will do better next time.”

He nodded. “Are… no they were fine. I’m being stupid.”

“You mean Kurogiri and Stray? Yes, they both performed admirably.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’d like you to stay here tonight. Is there anything you need?”

“Maybe something to eat? And a toothbrush.”

“I’ll have the doctor fetch it.”

“Thanks d… Sensei.”

He smiled fondly at Tomura before stepping out of the room.

 

White ceiling, white walls, white floor. Hizashi was thankful for the ugly green faux leather chairs and the tan drum-shaped end tables. He felt like the waiting room could use a plant or two as well. Maybe update the flooring to a nice wood grain laminate. There was no fixing the standard fluorescent lighting and office ceilings. Even the garish vending machines down the hall were a relief compared to all the hospital white.

A doctor had been out to talk to him an hour or so ago; it wasn’t great news, but they were sure he’d live. The damage was extensive and they were waiting until after surgery to have Recovery Girl heal him. His skull was fractured in at least two places, and the orbital floor had been crushed. His ribs were broken. The skin on his elbow was gone and his arms were broken in multiple places, including one wrist being ground to powder. The blood loss had been the most immediate concern and it would have been touch and go for saving his hand, but the hospital had an expert visiting who was leading the reconstructive surgery.

He had given them a copy of Shota’s medical consent form since he, Shota, and Nemuri all carried each other’s with their hero ID. His had been too covered in blood to read. Luckily, the policy was to treat heroes as if they had given full consent to resuscitate and perform other life-saving procedures until proven otherwise.

Hizashi paced the mostly empty waiting room, twirling his old finger-loop grip utility knife. He’d taken the blades out before he did, in case it bothered someone. He rubbed his thumb over the now smooth measurement markers on the handle. Holding it, and feeling its weight, always made him think of when Shota gave it to him in high school. Just shoving the box into his hands and telling him, “You need this.”

“Hizashi?”

He whirled when he heard Nezu’s voice. “Hey!” he plastered a too-cheerful smile on his face. “Sho’s not out of surgery yet, but they said he’s not critical anymore.”

“That is a relief.” He hopped up on one of the chairs and began unpacking his laptop. “Would you mind getting me a cup of tea?”

“No problem.” They both knew he was relieved to have something to do.

 

The pair was curled up on the couch when Kurogiri’s phone chimed. “Sensei is keeping Tomura overnight,” Kurogiri read. “He’s fine, just being over cautious.”

“Better than Tomura disintegrating his stitches or cast or something,” Izuku pointed out after finishing a bite of his lamb Marsala. “Besides we didn’t order him anything.”

“I hope Toga can make it back tonight,” Kurogiri said offering him a piece of Tandoori shrimp.

The boy leaned over and took the shrimp in his mouth. He gave a delighted little moan. Grinning, he grabbed the phone and took a picture of their takeout. Izuku sent it to his villain phone. “At least now she’ll know we’re okay,” he said passing the phone back.

The phone dinged a reply a few moments later. “She says to save her some Samosas and shrimp, she should be free by midnight, and also school is canceled tomorrow.” Kurogiri narrowed his eyes in a way that seemed pleased. “I’m keeping you an extra day.”

 

Yagi groaned as he tried to sit up. The damned beds in the nurse’s office were so small, his feet hung uncomfortably off the edge. He’d clearly passed out or fallen asleep at some point after Chiyo had finished with his stitches. He knew he’d been given a painkiller with his plasma and fluids, but it must have been mild because it was wearing off. His muscles ached and his ribs throbbed. The claw marks and ripped flesh across his chest and back flared with every movement and every breath. He was too old and too weak to do this anymore.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. For a split second, his heart raced and adrenaline surged through his system. Then his brain processed shapes and colors into forms. Kayama stretched in the chair next to the bed.

“Aizawa’s still in the hospital,” she said in a clipped professional tone, “but at least he’s finally out of surgery.” She put her phone away and turned to look at him.

“I should have been there,” he blurted.

“I won’t lie,” she said, her voice softening, “you should have. But the students are all saying the same thing; you were the primary target, not the only target.”

“Who was injured?”

“That can wait.”

“I need to know.”

“Why? So you can angst in high def?” Kayama snapped at him. “None of them are at risk of dying. And while some will have scars no one’s injuries were so bad that they’ll have to quit the course.”

“We were lucky, then.”

“They were careful. Your friend, detective Tsukauchi, was in here while you were still unconscious. He said that a few of the ones we caught are talking. They had orders to maim the kids, but were specifically told not to kill them.”

“That’s strange.”

“It is. And only thirty-one villains were captured; the ten from the entrance, nine that were frozen by Todoroki, and twelve more from the other students managing to immobilize one or two of them here and there.”

“Wait. Did the teachers not –”

“They scrambled as soon as we got there. The only ones we got were already down.”

“How could they signal each other if they were jamming communications?” Chiyo asked from her desk.

“Signal flare,” Yagi told her. “The one that was using young Bakugo as a hostage shot it off. Then the warper started opening portals all over. We really didn’t catch anyone in the scramble?”

“As I said, they were careful. Detective Tsukauchi will be back around to get your statement later, so you should rest for now.”

 

Toga was getting tired. She couldn’t use Stray’s quirks, which meant no rapid healing and no staying up all night. She did not want to risk falling asleep at Stray’s. When the clock ticked over to midnight, she slipped out of Stray’s room and out the front door. She skittered across the street and into the octopus-shaped play structure before calling Kurogiri for a pickup.

She passed through his warp gate, rubbing her cheek along the edge, and shed her disguise. “I missed you.”

“And we missed you,” Izuku said from the couch. He shook a to-go container at her.

“Love you,” she said diving into it.

“You love shrimp,” he corrected and pulled her into his lap. Izuku rested his head on her shoulder while she ate, just basking in the soft warmth of her presence.

Notes:

Name: Isana Ishikawa 'Piranha'
Kanji: 勇魚 石川
勇 bravery, courage; 魚 fish, seafood
石 stone, rock; 川 river, stream, brook
Quirk: Piranha - An aquatic mutation that gives the user sharp triangular teeth, powerful jaws, gills, fins, and scales.
Description: A petty thug with wide features and large glassy eyes
Affiliation:
Birthday: June 22
Height: 5'5"
Blood Type: B
Likes/dislikes: Shellfish, Camping, Cucumbers. Being Alone, Rich People, Bright Lights.

Name: Raiki Yasumitsu 'Flash Bang'
Kanji: 雷希 安光
雷 thunder; 希 rare, hope, beg for
安 peace, cheap, low-priced; 光 light, radiance
Quirk: Thunderous Flash - The user creates short bursts of bright light and loud noises around them which can stun others.
Description: A petty thug with an imposing form and a big personality.
Affiliation:
Birthday: March 28
Height: 6'5"
Blood Type: O
Likes/dislikes: Bright Lights, Loud Music, Clubbing. Dramas, Slow Drivers, Meek or Timid People.

Name: Takezumi Utsugi 'Spike'
Kanji: 剛角 槍
剛 strong, sturdy, tough, 角 horn, corner.
槍 spear, lance
Quirk: Spine Shed - The user produces sharp spines from their forearms which grow back rapidly when removed.
Description: A petty thug with a bad attitude and no self-preservation instinct
Affiliation:
Birthday: May 12
Height: 6'1"
Blood Type: B
Likes/dislikes: Beer, Meat, Girls. Mutations, Pretension, Prudes.

Chapter 21: A Day of Rest

Toga slipped back into Izuku’s apartment. Stray-kun was spending the whole day lounging in Kurogiri’s arms. She had to admit that she was jealous of both of them; the luxury of being pampered all day and the privilege of coddling a healing Stray-kun.

She flopped down on Izuku’s bed and wallowed in his retro young-age All Might blankets, with the Shield Industries logo print on the reverse side. Pressing her face into his matching pillow, she inhaled the scents trapped there: a vaguely perfumed body wash with a name like Sports Blast or Cool Wave, an almost fruity floral scent that was defiantly his mom’s shampoo, a subtle hint of rosemary, cinnamon, and other spices, and finally that lightly musky smell that was pure Stray.

She had just slipped her hand into the waistband of his ridiculous yellow All Might pajama pants when Inko knocked on the door. Toga huffed. “I’m up!” she called, pulling her hand out and sliding off the bed.

 

Yagi, principal Nezu, and three of Yuuei’s teachers listened intently as Detective Tsukauchi explained the situation. “Our investigators are trying to learn everything they can about this so-called League of Villains. We’ve made some progress but we can’t find anything on this Shigaraki so far. We’ve searched our records for men in their twenties or thirties that are registered as having some sort of disintegration quirk but so far, we’ve come up empty. Same for the warp gate villain, Kurogiri, and the shadow villain, Stray. So, they’re not citizens or they’re using aliases. Given that Stray is an obvious alias, we’re leaning towards the latter. Hard to find either way.”

“So what you’re really saying is ‘We don’t know anything’,” Kan summed up, disappointment clear in his gruff voice.

“There is something else,” Tsukauchi said uneasily as if it shook him each time he read the dry bullet point in front of him. “We took DNA from what was left of Nomu. It will take a few days to get the official results, but if the rapid tests are at all accurate, it shows four different people’s DNA. Seeing that, I sent samples to toxicology for further analysis. We should have those results back in a week or so. But I have a pretty good idea of how that will read. The bulk of the DNA was from one low-level thug with a record of assault and extortion. His quirk was shock absorption. But nowhere near the scale seen here. Strengthened quirk and lowered cognitive function? Sound familiar?”

Yagi gasped and Nezu nodded. “Trigger. More specifically Ideo Trigger. The kind used to make the Naruhata Instant and Next-Level Villains.”

Tsukauchi nodded. “That’s my thought as well. We’ll see.”

“This just got deep,” Kan grumbled. “Shigaraki doesn’t seem like the type to do long-term planning and make a Frankenstein’s Monster. Something tells me he doesn’t have enough PhD’s for it.”

“Yeah,” Matsushita agreed. The tinny, echoic quality of his voice modulator cut out as he continued speaking, “Even though he isn’t just some upstart with delusions of grandeur, I doubt he’s the brains behind that thing. Still, once he heals up he’ll probably try pulling something like this again. What a pain.”

“He did seem like the type,” Yagi murmured.

“Is something on your mind, All Might?” Nezu asked.

“I know you’re thinking it, too,” Yagi said softly. “All for One.”

“Yes, multiple quirks does suggest his work, but he is dead, isn’t he?”

He flexed his hands, his eyes unfocused with the weight of memories behind them. “Yes. Until, unless we learn otherwise we can assume this is someone else’s doing.” With a frown he moved the conversation away from that dark path; surely there was only madness to be had in entertaining that idea. He had crushed the man’s skull with his own hands. He shook his head to clear it. “Back to what we do know: No sane adult would ever attempt something like the attack on the USJ. It was too bold.”

“But it was clearly well planned,” Nezu added. “It definitely speaks of at least two different personalities.”

“Shigaraki kept monologuing about the reasons he was there and he bragged about Nomu’s many quirks, but he never said a word about his own powers. When things didn’t go his way he was visibly upset; like he was gonna throw a tantrum.” Yagi sighed in frustration. “I guess bragging about Nomu’s quirks was a quick way to draw me into a fight.”

Nezu frowned. “On the face of it that seems strategically foolish, he did withhold the regeneration until it was used. He seems to be tactically minded,” Nezu said thoughtfully.

“You think the wild immaturity was a mask?” Yagi asked.

“It’s possible,” he replied. “But it is equally possible that he is emotionally immature and trained in strategy.”

“He talked about Nomu like he was some kind of a pet,” Yagi said. After a moment of contemplation, he added, “His two subordinates seemed more like handlers than lackeys. For someone tactically minded, he thought things would go his way no matter what. He has the personality of a spoilt little brat, a man-child.”

“A child with incredible power though,” Kan commented.

 “It’s possible he never got the quirk counseling students receive in elementary school.” Kayama’s handcuff bracelet jingled softly as she gestured.

“Maybe so, but it doesn’t really matter now,” Matsushita pulled them away from the baseless speculation.

“There were thirty-one arrested in the aftermath of the USJ attack,” Tsukauchi read the next point. “They were all small-time thugs who usually lurked around back alleys. What worries me is that this man-child got them all to follow his crazy plan. They viewed him as a real leader. Criminals are starting to feel more pressure now that the world is brimming with heroes. That could be why they were so quick to back such simpleminded villainy.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Kan grumbled. The whole thing rubbed him wrong but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was off about it.

“There are plenty of people out there looking for a cause to get behind.” Matsushita sat back in his chair.

“So what can we do to stop them?” Kayama asked in a serious tone.

“Well, it is thanks to you heroes that we have the time to devote ourselves to this case. We’ll expand our investigation and continue searching for the perpetrators who planned this attack,” Tsukauchi said confidently. He bowed to the assembled pro heroes and took his leave.

“A man-child, huh?” Nezu murmured. “In some ways, he shares common ground with our students. They both have so much potential. And like our students I suppose it’s possible someone is guiding him, trying to nurture his malice and villainy.”

“It could be the other two guiding him,” Yagi offered hopefully.

Nezu nodded distractedly. “They are a most confounding trio. Eraserhead’s report says that Shigaraki was able to analyze his quirk in mere minutes, and Stray was the one to bandage him. The students nearest Kurogiri thought he was the leader, only partially due to their own inexperience. And if the reports are accurate the way each of them spoke is very concerning.”

“What do you mean, sir?” Kayama asked.

“The warp gate’s speech patterns, if correct and with so many witnesses agreeing it likely is, were stilted, formal, and scripted. The other two, however, frankly they speak like teenagers. I’d put them in their early twenties if I had to hazard a guess. Gaming terminology could just be the coded language they used to plan the attack as they fight like a well-oiled machine and the hirelings received orders from each of them. Yes, I think rather than handlers or lackeys they are a team.”

“What does that mean?” Yagi asked, genuinely perplexed.

“This League of Villains is like a hydra; cutting off one head will do us little good. On the other hand, they have demonstrated both excellent teamwork and interdependency. They will protect each other and that can be exploited.”

 

“You can’t go back to that school,” her father said. He was clutching her to his chest.

Her reply was muffled by his hug.

Her mother stroked her hair. “It was scary wasn’t it? For us too, hearing that you were in danger.”

She pushed away a bit to be heard. “I know, it was, but…”

“Of course, we’ll support your decision, Kyoka,” her mother soothed.

She hesitated before quietly saying, “I really want to be a hero, and what are the odds of something like that happening again when All Might trashed them?”

“Yeah, I guess having him around is kinda like having a bug zapper for villains. He might attract them, but he does take care of them,” her father agreed. “And they did let you have the day off so we could freak out privately.”

“I think some ice cream is in order.”

 

Izuku had been exhausted, but he’d only managed three hours of sleep. Kurogiri would be asleep for at least five more. Sighing he unwound his shadow and attempted to slide out of Kurogiri’s embrace. The not-exactly-corporeal arms synched tighter around him. Kurogiri moaned softly and nuzzled his hair.

The boy relaxed into the unconscious affection. He scooched back to press against him and was delighted to find an often-absent erection. Mischievously, Izuku shifted in Kurogiri’s arms. He reveled in the warm, hard press of his lover on his backside. He set a slow pace as he ground against him. Soon, Kurogiri’s hips matched him, and strong hands began to grope and caress. Eventually one pinned Izuku’s head against Kurogiri’s chest by his jaw, and the other dipped below the waistband of his black sleep pants.

Izuku gasped and moaned.

Drowsily, Kurogiri asked him, “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

“Nuh-uh,” Izuku replied. “Don’t stop.”

“Love,” Kurogiri purred, his voice heavy with sleep, “You don’t have to –”

“Please,” Izuku whimpered.

“I don’t want to take advantage,” was Kurogiri’s tired reply. He moved his wayward hands to Izuku’s hips and shoulders. “No matter how pretty you are when you beg.” He pulled Izuku tight against his body.

“Oh, Kurogiri. Just like that.”

“Hmm? What is my pet after exactly? I’m curious now.”

Blushing lightly, he stammered, “I, well, you’re – and you’re never – so, I wanted, oh no, I should have asked first, but I didn’t want to wake you; too late for that. I didn’t mean to wake, but I didn’t mean to, you know, without your permission.”  His half-panicked ramble slowly tapered off. “You’re not mad at me are you?”

Kurogiri hummed. “I don’t think I am, but you still haven’t said what you wanted. If you don’t tell me soon I might just have to punish you.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Izuku tucked his knees up as much as he could around Kurogiri’s arm and lowered his head. He muttered something Kurogiri couldn’t hear.

“Out loud, pet,” Kurogiri encouraged.

“It felt nice, and I … I wanted to make you cum.”

“I’m too tired, Love. Later, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“If you’re done sleeping I should probably let you up, huh?” Kurogiri tightened his grip and nuzzled Izuku’s hair.

“Nah, I could lay here a while longer.”

 

“I heard you did well, Shoto.”

He didn’t look up from his schoolwork. The day off was unnecessary, but he wasn’t going to let it go to waste. History and art weren’t his best subjects, and he found more competition in the academics than he’d expected.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“I managed to detain eight of them.”

“I was told nine.”

“Hagakure-san took out the one they were using to melt my ice.”

Endeavor frowned at his son. “If you’d use your fire you wouldn’t need rescuing. Do better next time.” he stormed off down the hall.

Shoto hunched his shoulders and tried to focus on his work.

 

Momo sat in the plush office of her mother’s friend’s plastic surgeon. They were chatting about potential procedures. She could hear them, knew they were talking about her, but the words weren’t processing. They washed over her like tiny waves against the sand.

She felt a little like sand at the moment; like she was made up of millions of tiny incoherent particles. Her legs and right arm were covered with a tender pink, fernlike pattern; following her veins and blood vessels, marring her skin in a permanent display of her mistakes.

“Momo, dear?”

“Hmm?” she replied, not really tuning in.

“Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly.

“I understand your hesitation,” the doctor said. Not that he could understand, she hadn’t explained anything to him. “The procedure is painful, but it does have a ninety-eight percent success rate.”

“As long as I don’t miss school I don’t care.”

“Well, as I said,” he said in a tone that spoke of infinite patients, “the procedure takes up to four hours a session, with weekly sessions, and the office isn’t open on weekends.”

Momo frowned. “That’s… that’s fine. At the hospital, they said the scars wouldn’t affect my quirk, so… I’m sorry for wasting your time.” She stood, bowed to him, and started for the exit.

“Momo!” her mother called, getting up to follow her. “It’s okay, sweetie, you don’t have to decide today. We can see what the school says, and look into how it will affect your career.”

Momo turned and stared blankly at her. “Okay.”

 

Izuku’s joints had started to protest his idleness a while ago, but he was ignoring it in favor of Kurogiri’s warm embrace. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ignore the pressure in his bladder. He unwound his shadow, again. Sitting up this time, he moved Kurogiri’s hands off of him as they tried to pull him in again.

He stood up and stretched before padding off to the bathroom. He admired the dark tiles and brushed copper fixtures. They were easy on the eyes after making his way through the darkened apartment.

Walking back through the living room, Izuku found it weird that Tomura wasn’t there; either sleeping in his room or on the couch playing games. He decided to turn on some TV and either veg or workout until Kurogiri got up.

The remote was simple enough, and the power button worked as expected, but when he tried to change it from the consoles to cable or antenna, he got a strange screen instead. It showed a darkened room with an occupied bed and a figure in a chair, a bit too close to the camera.

“Did you require something, Kurogiri?” Sensei asked softly.

“Oh, um. I did-didn’t mean to disturb you,” Izuku replied. He held up the remote.

“Ah, Stray-kun. Did you need help with the TV?”

“Um, yeah.” He blushed.

“It’s input three. Now, how does your shadow feel? Any stiffness or soreness?”

“Um.” Izuku wiggled his shadow. “Not stiff. Still a bit sore.”

“Good. I’m glad that you’re healing nicely. Sometimes quirks don’t interact well with each other. Your age is an important factor. Younger subjects tend to respond better to implantation. Well, to a point. Too young and the stress can kill them.” If Sensei had eyes, Izuku thought he’d be gazing fondly at Tomura as he slept soundly.

“Oh. That’s good to know, I guess.” He tilted his head as a thought occurred to him. “So, why do younger, presumably teen and preteen, subjects respond better to implantation?”

“Flexibility. Like trying to teach a person a new language, certain sounds are lost to you if you don’t hear them early enough. As you age different parts of your brain and body develop and mature, it becomes more difficult to adapt to a foreign quirk.”

“So, I’m the perfect subject to cram quirks into.”

Sensei was quiet for a moment. “Naturally. It’s too bad you’re Tomura’s bodyguard, you’d have made an amazing nomu.”

Izuku gave a little nervous laugh. “You don’t consider me a nomu?”

“Of course not. To be honest neither is Kurogiri. The nomu are dolls, they can’t really think. Some of the higher quality ones retain a few basic desires or ideas, but it’s like a doll with a pull string repeating ‘mama’. You look nothing alike.”

“Look?”

“Ah, my quirk allows me to ‘see’ quirk energy. I’ve learned so much just by observing people. Some quirks are more… rigid than others, some are more fluid. Others are more dormant, sleeping when not in use, rather than roiling just under the surface waiting to be released. It’s quite fascinating really.”

Izuku nodded. “Like how Ono-san’s clones practically burst into existence but Hoshino-san’s lights take time to warm up.”

“Very possibly.”

The pair continued to chat about quirks and quirk analysis until Tomura woke up.

“It was nice talking to you, Stray-kun.”

“Same, Sensei.” Izuku changed the TV to input three.

 

Ochaco hung up the phone. She had insisted again this morning that she was fine and her parents didn’t need to come see her. It was only one day off school, after all. They shouldn’t take the time off work. But god was she lonely.

 She curled up on the couch and cried into her pillow. It was so scary! She needed her mom and dad. No! She was going to be a hero! She was going to be a hero to help them. If she couldn’t handle one little run-in with villains, where she wasn’t even hurt, how could she be a hero?

 

Yuga was doing laps in the pool. His only problem during the attack was staying afloat in the shipwreck zone. He had emailed the support department about improving flotation first thing in the morning, but he couldn’t leave it all in their hands.

His mother lounged indulgently next to the pool, very obviously not reading her book. His father was working from home. Every hour he would pop in, kiss his wife, and critique Yuga’s form. Yuga hadn’t gotten this much attention from the both of them since he’d started middle school, and honestly, he was glad the school had only given them a day off. He loved his parents, but he did not want to be smothered.

“It’s lunchtime, My Little Star.”

“Oui, mother.”

 

Shota lay staring at the hospital ceiling. One eye was still bandaged and each time he woke up, he forgot that it was over and his students were safe. “If I can walk, I’m teaching class tomorrow,” he threatened.

“Sho, be good for the doctors.”

“I can take another healing from Recovery Girl in four hours.”

“She’ll be back first thing in the morning, and they’ll assess you then.”

“I can teach from a wheelchair.”

“Sho, you have to rest!”

“Did you feed the cats?”

“Yes, Sho. Of course, I fed them. Nem will feed them tonight.”

“Nobody died?”

 “Nobody died.”

               

His arm still ached, even though Recovery Girl healed it, and the doctors said it was fine. Minoru was also bored. Both of his parents were at work. As much as they wanted to take the day off and be with him, neither could afford to. So, that left him in a very familiar position.

He sifted through his father’s porn collection for something that would make him feel better. Genital Hospital, Hole-istic Medicine, Nympho Nurses, Candy Stripper, Night Shift Nurses, Private Practice, Hello Nurse, the Fertility Clinic, and a few foreign titles. It was going to be awkward since he was still supposed to rest his dominate arm, but at least it was something to do.

As he put in the first DVD he wondered if his parents would care even if they were home. He hugged his Mirko body pillow tightly. It smelled of sweat and other vaguely unpleasant things. He grinned manically thinking about the pro hero letting him do that kind of thing to her.

 

Tensei had taken the day off work to spend with his family. Tenya had agreed to pull his exhaust pipes out, even though it was a little early. Tradition dictated that he needed to remove them himself. Tears and sweat poured down Tenya’s face as he endured the intense and prolonged pain.

Cradling his younger brother as he bawled, crying through both the trauma of his first encounter with villains and the agony of his fresh wounds, Tensei was unsure if this was the right decision. Tenya was so young – too young – and stubborn. He would have agreed to anything that would make him a better hero. Tensei carded his fingers through Tenya’s hair. “It’s okay to slow down, or even stop once in a while. Really think things through. You don’t have to, and shouldn’t rush into everything. That’s how mistakes get made.”

 

“Koji!” his mom called from downstairs.

He was cuddling with his rabbit, Yuwai-chan. He’d finished his schoolwork after breakfast and was indulging in a bit of an existential chat with Yuwai and the nesting birds outside his window. Animals were easy to understand. Food, safety, and mates were their top three priorities, usually in that order. The safety of their offspring would trump that list when they had them.

It was an interesting perspective to hear how the birds felt about a group of predators attacking while the flock was teaching juveniles how to defend themselves. They were quite pleased that everyone survived and noted that the predators would not think them such easy prey in the future. Yuwai was just glad he was safely back in the burrow. Fighting is all well and good when you have to, but a secure burrow is best.

“Koji!” his mom called again.

He placed Yuwai-chan back on her little bed. “Coming!”

 

Denki could still feel the blood on his face, the pounding pain of his broken nose, the emptiness of short-circuiting. He was glad for the day off; he’d be sluggish all day. But, he didn’t just wanna lay around the house. He started texting his friends to see if anyone wanted to grab lunch or hang out for a few hours.

“Hey, Sparky,” his older brother called.

“What?”

“Mom said to take you with if I go anywhere.”

“The mall?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah. If you’ll leave me and my girlfriend alone long enough to see a movie.”

“I’ve got movie money. I’ll just watch something else. There’s a Kaiju flick that just came out this weekend.”

“I kinda wanted to see that with you.”

“Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well. Oh! There’s the gender-flipped spy movie!”

“Ick, feminist trash.”

“No way. It’s going to be great. The female lead starred in that racing series you like, and the script is almost scene for scene a classic post cold war spy movie, just updated for modern tech and quirks.”

“Well, you tell me if it’s any good and we might make Saturday a double feature.”

“Cool!” Denki texted the group chat that he’d be at the mall if they wanted to join him.

 

Minoru was surprised when he was added to the group chat. It wasn’t much of an invitation. He’d have to buy his own ticket and there weren’t any sexy babes in the movie Denki wanted to see, but the allure of chilling at the mall watching girls running around in spring fashions was more than that of staying at home and having a marathon spank to old movies he’d seen a million times.

He texted back that he’d be there and put everything away. His parents had given up a long time ago trying to keep him out of their porn, but they did still get on him about cleaning up. With that thought in mind, he changed the case on his body pillow. Midnight’s giant boobies were way more comforting anyway.

 

Toga bit into the crispy juicy katsudon. The flavor blossomed over her transformed tongue. It was one of the joys of becoming the person she loved: she got to taste their favorites the exact same way they did. It was perfect. She could know Izuku as well as he knew himself.

“Well, you’re enjoying that! I’m glad my cooking can compete with the pro hero Lunch Rush!”

Toga looked up from her bowl. “Mom, your katsudon will always be the best.”

“That’s so sweet of you Izuku.”

Toga smiled at her. Not her own manic, predatory smile, but the soft, indulgent one Izuku would get sometimes sitting beside Tomura while the other boy ranted about All Might, the corruption of society, or how the AI in the multiplayer mode of that game they both like cheats. Inko smiled back warmly and they both returned to their food.

 

Mina was excited to get Denki’s invite. Her family was great, but she just didn’t need to be coddled. Her, Aoyama, Shoji, and Sero had it easy, as far as bad guys went. They’d all freaked out a little when they saw Mineta, but Sero had bandaged him up quickly.

Then they’d come up with a plan to cover a strip of Sero’s tape in her acid and Mineta’s balls, so the balls didn’t stick to it very well, and fling the balls into the water. They had almost figured out what to do next when the ship started sinking.

Mina shook herself as she approached the group of boys outside of the movie theater, and rubbed her thigh subconsciously.

“That top looks amazing on you,” Mineta said in a way that took all the compliment out of the statement. He wiped drool from the corner of his mouth.

Mina smiled at the little pervert. “Thanks, Mineta! Sero, I love that shirt. Eijiro, is that a shark hoodie?”

“A strawberry shark hoodie,” he corrected, pointing to the little embroidered seeds.

“So cute!”

 

Hey, nerd.

Toga was delighted when Kacchan texted. Hey. I heard you kicked butt!

How are you so upbeat after everything that’s happened?

I wasn’t involved and you’re okay. You are okay, right? Toga constructed the perfect response. Happy Izuku was a mask Stray-kun wore in public.

Yeah, but they got away

From All Might and the teachers too

Don’t fucking patronize me

I’m not. I’m offering my brother support. We’re very close. :) She needled him about his past with Stray-kun. Stray might tell him they’re close, that he cares, but in the end he chose Tomura; an ill-tempered twenty-year-old delinquent that he’d only known for a year.

Dumbass.

No, but for real. I get through a lot by recontextualizing our interactions through the lens of family. You were always there, you never let anyone else hurt me, and you never went too far. So, I’ll be there for you, I won’t let anyone hurt you, and I’ll steer clear of your imposter syndrome when I tease you. She let the tiniest bit of Stray slip through the mask. After all, he made little mistakes like this; she was just being authentic.

Fuck off.

Love you too, bro. A little twist of the knife, or little Izuku offering an olive branch? Who knew? Toga pulled it back in as they continued texting into the night.

 

The kitchen came alive whenever Kurogiri entered it. He grabbed flour, eggs, cabbage, scallions, and shrimp for Okonomiyaki while instructing Izuku in making scrambled eggs and miso. Soon the air was thick with garlic, ginger, chili peppers, and other aromatics. 

Kurogiri was humming. Izuku tried to identify the tune and join him. “This thing called love, I just can't handle it. This thing called love, I must get ‘round to it. I ain’t ready. Crazy little thing called love~.”

Smiling and laughing they returned to the apartment to eat.

“Mmm. So good.” Izuku took another bite before mentioning, “I talked with Sensei today.”

“Oh, did he need something? You should have woken me.”

“No, no. I was trying to watch TV, but I connected to him instead. And we just … talked. It was weird but nice.”

“He has a hard time connecting with people, like Tomura, so I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Yeah, he knows so much about quirks. It was super enlightening.”

Kurogiri listened as Izuku excitedly explained the new ideas and theories he’d learned. He gave a contented sigh; his eyes wafting and wavering in amusement. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter 22: Counseling the Wise

Deku was plastered to Bakugo’s side as they walked into the classroom. “Okay, I’ll meet you at our usual table for lunch. I got you a bento box so you won’t have to stand in line.”

“I told you I’m fine,” Bakugo growled, taking the bento.

“I know,” Deku said softly as if he was afraid of upsetting Bakugo. “Just put up with my smothering for today, you can explode tomorrow.”

“Tch. Whatever.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, Kacchan.” Deku wrapped him in a tight hug. “I gotta get to class!” he jetted out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“I wonder who they’ll get to teach today,” Raccoon Eyes said leaning back in her chair.

“Depending on who it is I might go lay down in the nurse’s office,” The Empty Seat in Front of Him said.

“Why? Are you feeling unwell?” Glasses asked.

“No, but after that, Aizawa’s gruff no-nonsense personality would be comforting, and I just don’t think I could stomach a chipper bubbly teacher pretending nothing was wrong.”

“I agree. Present Mic was very calm under pressure, but he didn’t seem to understand that we were … unsettled by the event,” the Bird added.

“It’s a shame Aizawa-sensei is still in the hospital,” Frogger said.

The door slid open. The students jumped in their seats. A few tiny pops could be heard from Bakugo’s palms. “Morning class,” came the reserved and muffled voice of their homeroom teacher. His face and arms were so heavily bandaged that he looked like a mummy.

“Aizawa-sensei!” the class cheered.

“What a pro,” Dunce Face said.

“So manly,” Shitty Hair commented, clenching his fist.

 “I’m glad that you’re okay!” Glasses said.

“My well-being is irrelevant. The important thing is that your fight isn’t over yet,” He announced as he trudged over to his desk.

There was a disquieted murmur among the students, and Pervy Grape trembled as he asked, “Not more bad guys?”

“The Yuuei Sports Festival is about to start.” The class let out a collective breath. “Also, you’re going to be pulled one at a time to talk with Inui. Don’t disrupt the class when it’s your turn. It may take a few days to get to all of you.”

 

Ryo Inui’s office was cozy but professional. There was a sofa under the window at the far end. Two small armchairs shared the round coffee table with it. Opposite his simple desk and visitors chairs was a low bookshelf. The decorations were sparse but always contained a natural element. A smooth white vase with fresh-cut flowers sat in the window. A variety of pressed leaves made up the wall art. A tiny bonsai brought life to his otherwise barren desk.

“Have a seat,” he told the student. He always let them choose; it gave them a sense of control and told him a little bit about their personalities.

 “I could have killed her,” Todoroki said matter-of-factly, taking a seat in front of the desk. Formal or uptight. Possibly just very uncomfortable.

“But you didn’t,” Ryo said as he slipped past to sit at his desk.

“I used my father’s quirk to save her.” The boy looked down as he said it. Shame? Distress?

“Now that I find concerning.  It’s one quirk. Your quirk,” Ryo emphasized.

“I swore I’d never use it,” Todoroki said.

“Why?” Ryo cocked his head.

“I don’t want to be like him.” While this declaration was delivered in a firm tone, Todoroki still stared at the floor.

He doesn’t think I’ll believe him, Ryo thought. “What’s he like?”

“Not going to tell me he couldn’t be that bad?” His tone was harsh and accusatory. He’s been down that road before.

“I can’t tell you what your lived experience is,” he replied in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.

Todoroki was quiet for a moment. Then he looked up and said, “He’s cold, angry, violent, uncaring, overbearing.”

“Well, you’ve got at least one of those handled. You do care. And so far so good on violent, at least that your school records show. On the other hand, you do come off as unemotional to the casual observer, and I think we need to reevaluate ‘angry.’ Anger is an emotion that everyone feels and it is okay to feel angry. So, what about your father’s anger do you dislike?”

“He’s always angry. He gets mad over little things.” There is a long pause where it took Ryo longer than he would have liked to realize that Todoroki wasn’t going to continue.

“Okay, for that I can help you deal with your anger in a healthy manner. I’d like to meet with you every other week. Would that be okay?” He opened his schedule as he asked.

“Sure.”

“Is there a time of day that you would prefer?”

“No.”

Ryo tapped a few keys. “There we go; Thursday at lunch week after next.”

Todoroki nodded his agreement. “I keep thinking what could I have done better, differently in the attack? Could I have been more aware of my surroundings?”

“Possibly. However, only training – which you are already getting – and experience can improve that,” Ryo assured him. “And there are always ways to improve stealth to counter.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Honestly? No. From the incident reports I’ve read, they were intentionally herding her into your attack. If you hadn’t encased her they would have attacked her directly.”

“My ice is just as dangerous as fire.”

“All quirks are dangerous if used improperly,” he corrected gently.

“If I didn’t have his– my fire she would have died.”

“So your power is useful because you decided it should be.”

“I decided?”

“It’s your quirk, you choose how and when to use it.”

 

“It was really scary and I wasn’t much help at all,” Hagakure said from the couch. Her black socks contrasted starkly with the pale green throw pillows. “I’m not cut out for front-line fighting.” She seems unbothered by that.

“I think you did well for your first time,” Ryo said, shifting in the armchair. “You identified and neutralized the biggest obstacle to your team’s success.”

“I could have killed that guy,” she whispered. There’s the real issue.

“But you didn’t.”

“Will it always be like that?” It sounded like she had turned to look at him. He was glad for his heightened senses when he dealt with students that had hard-to-read faces.

“In some ways, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. You’ll know what to expect next time.”

Hagakure sat to digest that. She shifted and picked at the hem of her skirt.

“How do you feel about Todoroki?”

“He’s amazing!” Hagakure sat up straight and put her feet on the floor. “He’s really powerful, but he was so careful unfreezing me and he held my hand so we could stick together on the way back to the doors. He’s a good friend even if he seems distant!”

“Good. You should let him know that. People with quirks like his live with the constant fear of hurting someone on accident. It might help him to know that you’re fine emotionally as well as physically, and he could help with the fear of having hurting someone. It could be common ground for you.”

“Oh! So he might think I’m scared of him now?”

“Subconsciously if nothing else.”

“I can’t have that!” She struck her palm with her fist.

 

“How are you holding up?” Ryo asked into the awkward silence, once again seated at his desk.

“Mostly,” Yaoyorozu replied, running her fingers along the scars on her arm, “I’m just thinking about how unprepared we were.” The fern-like patterns that followed the veins in her arm and legs were still a vibrant pink and slightly raised. Her voice was soft and had a distant, drifty quality as if she wasn’t fully present.

“It’s natural,” Ryo soothed. “You’re first-year students. It was your second time in costume; your second week of classes.”

After some consideration, Yaoyorozu nodded. “My costume offers no protection and it still got shredded when I created a larger object.” She’s concerned about not being prepared herself, not the class.

“Normally the first round of redesigns is after the sports festival, but I’m sure they’ll make an exception for your class. You’ve got some practical experience under your belt after all.”

Yaoyorozu smiled at that.

“So, how do you feel about your scars?” Ryo asked.

“It’s fine,” Yaoyorozu replied. “I’m not vain and they won’t interfere with my quirk. I have to make sure to stretch them every day so they don’t become tight. It’s my fault for forgetting about the water. It tasted salty, but in the heat of the moment I just… miscalculated.”

“You aren’t the only one. We failed to protect you, despite all of our efforts.”

Her eyes snapped to him and focused fully for the first time.

“But Nezu and your teachers will go over everything that happened, how it happened, and make changes, improvements, so it’s less likely to happen again. You’ll learn battlefield awareness as you go.”

“Even pros make mistakes?”

“As obvious as it sounds we all need a reminder every now and again.”

 

“I don’t need therapy,” Bakugo growled the instant he was through the door. He didn’t wait to be told to take a seat before flopping down dramatically on the couch. He’s trying to get a rise out of me.

“It’s a single counseling session, not therapy,” Ryo replied.

“I don’t need counseling.”

“Alright,” Ryo said taking a seat at his desk. “If you’re not upset, you can just give me an account of what happened.”

“You don’t think I’m traumatized?” Bakugo asked genuinely confused.

“I think everyone is different. I won’t presume to know how this affected you.” Ryo folded his hands and waited patiently.

“I’m just pissed that they got away. If that warpy bastard hadn’t tried to kill me by dropping me I could have been more useful.”

“You saved All Might’s life,” he pointed out.

“But I got taken hostage,” Bakugo countered. There was the barest hint of an emotion other than anger in his voice.

“That villain restrained All Might as well. Are you really about to hold yourself to a higher standard than the Symbol of Peace?”

“I’m not weak,” Bakugo insisted.

“No, you aren’t,” Ryo agreed. “The question is how do we convince you of that?”

 

“Have a seat.”

Kaminari chose one of the armchairs. That was unexpected. Even more so was the fact that he seemed to relax when Ryo stepped passed the other one to sprawl on the couch. “So how does this work?”

“You tell me,” Ryo said simply. “If anything is bothering you; if you think this whole thing is bullshit, whatever you need to talk about.”

“It’s my fault Momo’s all scared up,” he said, looking down.

“Those villains planned the attack with maiming students in mind,” Ryo reminded him. “You’re not at fault.”

“But I knew better than to let out such a big burst. The ground was wet. The girls were soaked,” Kaminari admitted.

“And Yaoyorozu told you to do it,” Ryo pointed out. “Jiro kicked you into the thick of it.”

“Hey don’t put this on them! It’s my quirk. I’m responsible for the damage it does.”

“That’s very mature of you,” Ryo said. “But I meant that they have just as much agency as you. Yaoyorozu trusted that she’d protected the two of them. Jiro trusted that you could take out such a large opponent.”

“But I couldn’t.”

“Only because he had an electricity-absorbing quirk,” Ryo said.

“What if they hate me now?”

“I don’t think they will, but you aren’t responsible for their actions. As much as it hurts, that would be their baggage to deal with.”

 

Izuku was dragging Shinso to meet Bakugo on his way to the cafeteria when All Might came around the corner. “Young Midoriya is here!” he declared pointing at Izuku.

Izuku had a moment of genuine panic at the sight of the seemingly fully healed number one pro hero. Luckily, his nervous disposition covered it. “All Might, what are you doing here?”

“Lunch! You wanna eat with me?” He held up a bento box wrapped in a pale blue handkerchief. “What’d’ya say?”

Izuku looked to Shinso who just nodded. “Sure thing.” He trotted over to All Might, who led him to a private lounge. Once they were sequestered inside Izuku asked, “What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about my successor,” he said before deflating into Yagi in a puff of steam. He put hot water, from the dispenser on the table between them, into a small teapot. “It’s more urgent now that I make a decision. I can barely use my power for fifty minutes. I overexerted myself too many times. That Nomu was a really tough customer; it took a lot out of me. At this point, I can barely even look like All Might for an hour and a half.”

“So you’ve narrowed down the candidates?”

“Yes to just two; a third year and a first year. I would like to be able to give them a little time to adjust to this power before the sports festival. I know two weeks is cutting it close, but it is what it is.”

“That’s a good idea,” Izuku nodded. “So are you looking for advice or just someone to talk to? Because I can do either.”

“Definitely advice,” Yagi said. “So, I was thinking a lot about what you said; the quirk needing to benefit from being enhanced. I think the opposite is true as well, the user’s quirk should add to this power. Both candidates are close-up fighters and could use the added strength and speed. As well as the ranged techniques I could teach them. The difference is that the third year’s quirk is already quite impressive, and I’m not sure how it would benefit from being enhanced in and of itself.”

Izuku nodded. “And with you retiring to teach you’ll have more time to train the first year without raising suspicion.” He sipped his tea. “What are their quirks?”

“Well, the third year is Mirio Togata, and his quirk is – ”

“Permeation,” Izuku said. He pulled out his notebook and navigated to the page on Mirio. “I don’t know how his quirk would benefit, he really can’t be more intangible, but he ticks all the boxes for the personality department! Always smiling, always with a kind word or a funny joke. Polite, helpful, ambitious. You really couldn’t go wrong with him. How can your first year possibly compete with that?”

Yagi ticked off the other candidate’s qualities. “Always smiling, always with a kind word or helpful advice. Genuine, polite, patient, realistic but determined, resourceful, enthusiastic. He’s good with even the most abrasive people, so there’s less likely to be a rift between him and other heroes like there is with me. He’s even humble despite how amazing he is.”

“Well, it sounds like you’ve made your decision.”

“I have, actually. I just need to convince him.”

“I don’t think anyone would turn down an opportunity like this,” Izuku said, flashing a brilliant encouraging smile.

“I hoped you’d say that,” Yagi said with a soft smile of his own.

“All Might,” Izuku said in a warning tone when he realized what the man was getting at, “no.”

“Midoriya, yes! You’re perfect. And to top it all off I don’t have to let anyone else in on my secret. The circle stays small.”

“I’m not. I’m nothing like that, I just fake it well,” Izuku told him. “I’m not a good person. I don’t get along with Kacchan, I just enjoy watching his guilt over how he treated me. I act like I like Shinso, but really, I just don’t want to compete with him. I got to know class 1-A because beating them is my ticket into the hero course, nothing more.”

“I don’t believe that,” Yagi said simply. “I know this mantle may seem intimidating, but you have what it takes to not just bear it but improve it.”

“My trainer is a criminal and I sympathize with him and his views.”

“Half of the staff at Might Tower has a criminal background, helping those that society has failed is the greatest act of heroism I can think of.”

“No.”

“Please, Midoriya,” Yagi said his sunken eyes round and pleading as if that would crack the hardened heart of the villain Stray.

Thinking of his villain identity weakened Izuku’s resolve. If he had One for All it meant no one could use it against him. There would be no ‘next All Might,’ no new ‘Symbol of Peace.’ Izuku bit his lip. What would Tomura say? What would Sensei say? Or Kurogiri? Take the advantage. Whether it was just to protect Tomura, be a hero, or plunge full dive into a criminal empire who could say no to an opportunity like this? “How is it transferred?”

“You just have to ingest some of my DNA.” At Izuku’s quirked eyebrow, he hastily added, “A hair, fingernail, or bit of skin will do. And it can only be transferred willingly.”

“Does the recipient need to be willing as well?”

“No. It can be transferred to an unwilling recipient.”

Izuku nodded. “Fine but here’s the deal: for one year, until next year’s sports festival, you can take it back. No questions asked, no reasons given. If in that time you decide, I’m not the right man for the job I’ll pass it on to whomever you want. This offer stays valid no matter what you learn about me. I’m not a good person, I don’t deserve this, and you will regret this decision.”

“I find that very hard to believe, Midoriya, my boy.”

 “Meet me at the beach, at nine-thirty, okay? I don’t want to do this in the middle of the day, in case I freak out or something.”

“Very well. Thank you.” And Yagi bowed to him.

Izuku’s lip curled in disgust. At All Might for his words on the rooftop that had a hand in sending him down this path. At himself for accepting and dooming so many. At Yagi for not seeing through him, even when he laid himself as bare as he could. He schooled his features into a sad smile. “You should eat something.”

 

Iida sat at the desk. There were bandages around both his legs. “I should thank that villain for his attempt at maiming me, it will only make me faster. Perhaps next time I will be able to actually make a difference.”

“You did your best,” Ryo said, knowing it would be of little comfort.

“And look at what that achieved,” the boy said bitterly.

“An opening for your friends to act?”

Iida looked genuinely shocked. As if, the thought had not accrued to him. “I’ve been thinking only of myself.”

“It’s understandable. You experienced a life-changing injury.”

“Uraraka and Sato were able to subdue the villain, at least momentarily, because he was focused on me.”

“What works?” Ryo asked jovially.

“What?” Iida returned seriously.

“Teamwork.”

Iida stared at him for a moment before a snort of laughter bubbled out of him.

“That’s what we like to see,” Ryo said. “If you need to talk to me, I’m here. Aizawa is also available if you prefer. Your recovery should go smoothly on the physical side, I wanna make sure it’s the same for the emotional.”

“I will keep that in mind, Inui-sensei.”

 

“Have a seat,” Ryo said.

“I’m fine, really,” Asui said. She stood or crouched rather, near the desk. Ryo leaned against the door.

“It’s procedure,” he reassured her.

“I’ll admit it was scary, but I don’t need to talk about it.”

“Then don’t,” Ryo replied. “Though, I would like your take on the building that collapsed.”

Asui gave out a distressed ‘ribbit’. “Well, actually, I don’t remember much. The fire zone was so hot I nearly passed out. I know I burnt my hands at some point, and it’s a little embarrassing that Ojiro had to carry me.”

“His report said that you rescued him from the collapse.”

Asui looked at her hands. They were free of bandages and scars but he imagined she could still feel the blazing heat in them. “I guess we saved each other then.” She moved to the couch to sit down.

 

Jiro was kneeling on the couch looking out the window, after her clinical rundown of events. She seemed content to wind down the clock. Ryo sat in silence waiting. Minutes stretched until he thought she was never going to say anything. Finally, she turned to him and, her voice choked with tears, said, “I nearly got them both killed.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she snapped. “Momo’s covered in scars now!”

“You know, you are the third person to take responsibility for that?” Ryo said. “It’s inspiring, really, how mature and responsible you all are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Saltwater and electrical absorption. They were planning this. That it was you and Yaoyorozu that got caught in the trap is unfortunate but it would have been someone. Maybe, just maybe the three of you handled a bad situation the best you could?”

“Of course, we did our best, we would have died otherwise!”

“Then why are you beating yourself up over it?”

 Jiro stared dumbfounded at him for a moment. “I don’t hold them responsible why should I be any different?” She gave a short derisive laugh. “I kicked him into the bad guy. I didn’t take the attack seriously until Denki’s blood was splattered across his face. He got Momo the first time then, too, because I gave him the ammo to do it!”

Ryo didn’t keep a clock in his office, and there was no actual limit to the time for this session. He looked gravely at the girl. “Is that a mistake you will make again?”

“No! Never! I, I. God.” She began crying again. “I don’t want to get someone killed.”

“Then you learn from your mistakes and you move on. If you feel the need to apologize to those two, I can help you.” He reached over and handed her a box of tissues. Healing takes as long as it takes, he thought. “I’m scheduling another session in two weeks.”

“But…”

“You were alone.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

“I only had a cut on my ear. They were both hurt way worse.”

“Physical harm is the least of our concerns.”

“The one that,” she stopped. Shook her head. “Nothing happened.”

“Take your time.”

 

“I’m thinking about dropping out,” Mineta told him instead of taking a seat.

“That’s a very big decision,” Ryo prompted.

“No one else was scared.”

“Everyone was scared. Even All Might.”

Mineta blanched at that. “What does All Might have to be scared of?”

“Every hero is afraid of making a mistake. Of someone getting hurt,” Ryo explained. “That’s why we train you all so rigorously.”

“I only enrolled in the hero course so girls would like me.”

Ryo frowned but didn’t interrupt.

“It’s the only way a short guy like me is going to have girls fawning over him, but it doesn’t do me any good if I’m dead.”

“Well,” he ground his teeth. “While dating fans isn’t illegal it is highly frowned upon.”

“Yeah, when I tried to get some sympathy from these two general course girls, Asui hit me with her tongue.” He paused for a moment and Ryo hoped that the message had gotten across. Mineta burst into huge alligator tears. “It’s so unfair! My arm was nearly ripped off and I’m not even allowed to get a pity grope!”

“If you stay on, I’d like to see you twice a month,” Ryo said his voice devoid of sympathy. “Being a hero is hard work, but if you’re willing to put in the effort we’re here to help you.”

“What? Why?”

“Why would we help you or why do you need help?”

“Why do you think I need help?”

Ryo rubbed along his snout and between his eyes. With a sigh he replied, “You’re making rash decisions after a traumatic event, to start with. Your motivation for becoming a hero is… problematic to say the least. And no, you are not allowed to get a pity grope. You are a hero student at one of the most prestigious schools in Japan, that kind of behavior is unacceptable.”

More crocodile tears sprang forth. “B-but, but I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You attempted to use sympathy to get sexual favors. That is wrong, Mineta.” He sighed. “I’m not one to pass a problem down the line, so I’ll see you again in two weeks. In the meantime, I want you to read the student handbook section on sexual misconduct; particularly section three, subsection C: Hostile Environment Sexual Harassment.”

Mineta frowned. “But I haven’t harassed anyone.”

“And I’m sure that interviews with your classmates would bear that out,” he replied watching the color drain from Mineta’s face a little, “but we take this kind of thing very seriously. One wayward allegation can ruin a pro hero’s career. We don’t want that, do we?”

“No,” he said sullenly.

“Good. Now, let’s talk about the attack. You were severely injured.”

 

“Have a seat.”

Ojiro sat on the far side of the couch. His tail was still bandaged; his ribs were likely to be as well. He was quiet for a moment then he looked at Ryo and said, “I would have died if it weren’t for Asui.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I keep telling myself that it isn’t fair to judge my abilities based on that.”

“I don’t see why not. You fought trained adults for what, twenty solid minutes, at least half of which you were carrying Asui. I don’t know what scale you’re using to measure with but I’d say that your performance was outstanding.”

“If I hadn’t needed to rest…” he trailed off. “I just feel responsible for her getting hurt. Asui was counting on me.”

“Put the blame where it belongs, on the villains that were attacking you,” Ryo told him.

 

Izuku had texted Kurogiri immediately after his meeting with Yagi to tell him he would be late but didn’t say why. He wanted to give the man a chance to change his mind after all.

The boys had continued the cleanup project after the exams and while the beach wasn’t totally devoid of trash it was nearly so. A few more months of hard work. Or he could cheat and have Kurogiri dump it all somewhere. Or Tomura disintegrate it.

The sky was clear and the stars shined overhead like little chips of diamond spilt on a velvet background. The salty tang of the ocean air didn’t bother him as it used to. Whether that was because of the exposure therapy of cleaning the beach, or the lack of rust for it to mingle with he didn’t know.

“Midoriya, my boy!” All Might called out as he approached. This was it. “I’m glad you didn’t change your mind.”

“I stick to my word. Remember that. No matter what happens in the next year, you can still change yours.”

All Might plucked a hair from his head. “Eat this.”

“Ah, no. I’ve been thinking. It’s just DNA that’s needed, right?” When All Might nodded with a concerned frown he continued, “I’m not eating a hair. Or a fingernail. Calm down, I’m not suggesting anything, uh, inappropriate. At least not too inappropriate. I mean any DNA exchange is weird. Saliva would work right?”

All Might blanched. “Are you trying to get me to change my mind because of this?”

“What? No. I’m not suggesting, we, uh, you know. You could spit –”

All Might cut him off. “What if I prick my finger?”

“You don’t think that’s too intimate?” Izuku asked, thinking of Toga.

“I think it’s open to less misinterpretation,” All Might said firmly.

“Okay,” Izuku agreed.

The pair went through their pockets for something to use. The only sharp object either of them had was a pocketknife Toga insisted that Izuku carry. He handed it to All Might, who stuck his index finger with the tip. Blood welled up in the tiny wound.

Izuku opened his mouth, allowing All Might one more chance to back out. The hero slid his finger between parted lips to smear blood on a waiting tongue. Izuku closed his lips around the first knuckle and suckled while running his tongue over the digit. The rough, comforting texture of the jute bracelet on his wrist kept him from doing more, even if it was just to make him uncomfortable.

“That’s more than enough.” All Might pulled his hand away quickly.

Izuku swallowed until he didn’t taste copper anymore; regretting teasing the man as a wave of nausea hit him. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Give it some time.” All Might plopped down in the sand, allowing his form to deflate. “If my experience is anything to go by, using it should come naturally. But I don’t want to assume. It’s been forever since I was learning this myself.”

Izuku plopped down beside him and resisted the urge to tuck himself under the man’s arm. They sat in silence for nearly an hour before Izuku stood suddenly. “Oh. I think. I think. Yeah.”

He clenched his fists and felt a new thrum course through him; body and shadow. It felt like raw power. Where his healing was a deep rhythmic pulse, this was an energetic erratic whirring. Izuku leapt into the air.

The power cut off after his feet left the ground. He was propelled up twenty feet. He was in the air for a little over a second, but it was time enough to collect himself. Izuku hit the sand rolling and shunting most of the force of the impact away. Sand flew up around him.

As he rolled to a stop, he took a gasping breath. “I’m okay. Just gonna lay here awhile.”

Yagi ran over to him. “That was great, Midor–” he stopped as the sand settled. “Oh, shit.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Izuku said sitting up. His pants were tattered and his legs were a mottled purple. “I don’t think anything is broken.” He ran his hands over his shins. “Do you think you could help me up?”

Yagi pulled Izuku to his feet. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, I just have to get used to the force,” Izuku said dismissively. “But I think that’s enough for tonight. I didn’t bring anything to replenish my energy.”

“I’ll carry you home.”

“I can walk.”

“I’d feel better.”

“Fine, but if you drop me I’m telling Kacchan.”

“Fair enough.”

Chapter 23: Family Dynamics

Izuku hadn’t bothered taking his torn-up shoes off. He waited until he was sure Yagi was gone. Then he made himself wait five more minutes before leaving the apartment again. The jog down the stairs and across the street to his usual spot wasn’t as frantic as he’d thought, but adrenaline still pumped through his veins, and his heart pounded in his ears. The little playground wasn’t lit up at night and the apartments next to it blocked the street light over half of it. It was nearly midnight when he pulled his phone out and texted Kurogiri.

 The response was immediate. A warp gate opened behind him and he jogged through. Izuku wasted no time grabbing his costume case and heading to change.

Toga’s questioning, “What happened to your legs?” and Tomura’s shouted, “What was so important you had to skip out on us?” were both ignored. If he tried to speak now he’d just have a panic attack.

He stripped quickly and pulled on his leather pants, boots, and an old T-shirt. He did his hair and popped in his contacts. Izuku forwent the facemask and put his ears on as he returned to the bar.

“Ah, Stray-kun, so nice of you to join us. I take it you have news of some variety,” Sensei’s smooth voice poured out of the speakers.

“You may want to hear this in person,” he replied taking a seat between Tomura and Toga.

“But you hope I don’t?”

“I’m not gonna lie, this terrifies me and I don’t know how you’re going to react.”

“But Tomura makes you feel safe?” Sensei said his interest clear in his voice. “What kind of news would upset me and not Tomura?”

“Well, everyone knows how All Might’s been getting weaker?”

“Yes, I was hoping to kill him before he could pass that damned parasite on,” Sensei replied.

“Too late.”

“Well, we can always deal with them sooner rather than later.”

“Can we not?” Izuku asked putting his head on the bar. His chest felt tight and he was sure part of that came out as a squeak.

“Is it Kacchan?” Toga and Kurogiri asked in unison.

“No,” Izuku said without lifting his head. “It’s not.”

“Oh,” Sensei said. “Kurogiri warp me over. I do want to hear this in person.”

“Please no,” Izuku said even as the room was filled with the familiar, usually comforting fuzzy noise.

Toga gave up her seat at the slightest of gestures and practically hid behind Kurogiri.

“Now,” Sensei said sitting down beside him. “Tell me the good news.”

At that, Izuku lifted his head. He searched the mangled face for any hidden emotions but found only a slightly predatory smile. “All Might can only keep his form up for an hour and a half now, fifty minutes if he’s exerting himself.”

“Who’s the –” Toga began.

“Don’t interrupt,” Sensei said sharply. Her mouth snapped shut. “I want to hear this in all its ironic glory. Please, do continue, Stray-kun.”

“So he told me this afternoon that he wanted to pick his successor before the upcoming sports festival. We went over the candidates he had in mind. He did not go with my recommendation. I told him it was a bad idea, that he’d regret it. I tried everything I could to convince him, but he was dead set.” Izuku looked Sensei right where his eye should be. “He chose me.”

Sensei threw back his head and laughed. “This is perfect! I couldn’t have planned it better, and believe me I tried. His successor kneeling at the feet of mine!”

There was silence in the bar for a long moment. “All Might gave you his power,” Tomura said.

“Yes,” Izuku replied timidly.

“And he’ll retire soon.”

“Probably at the next hero billboard chart announcement.”

“So that’s him taken care of, we just need to destroy the pillar now.”

“I take it you have an idea,” Sensei said. He almost sounded eager.

“The hero commission decides the ranking. They’re supposed to screen out unworthy heroes. So, the heroes they promote are the ones everybody looks to. If we shake the people’s faith in the commission, we shake their faith in the heroes. And vice versa.”

“I think there’s someone I should introduce you to,” Sensei told him with an evil smile. “But for now we can celebrate our secret victory.”

 

Masaru plucked the crumpled letter from the recycle. He always checked the bin before taking it out as both Mitsuki and Katsuki had a habit of throwing away papers they were done with, without checking with anyone else. The letter was on official Yuuei stationary, meaning it would likely need to be filed with Katsuki’s other school records. 

This is the report of the USJ attack committed by the League of Villains. The Hero Course Class 1-A was involved in a rescue practice.  Just as the training began, the League of Villains struck. The League of Villains used a quirk to separate the students. Thirteen and the class’ teacher fought against the villains. However, both were gravely injured and left out of a significant portion of the fight.

Afterward, All Might, a recent addition to the faculty, joined the fray and reversed the situation. Failing to contact the USJ facility, the remaining professional heroes arrived, and the incident was resolved.

As a result, ten students were injured and two teachers were in critical condition. The first-year students managed to overcome the odds and performed at a level few first-year sidekicks achieve. The skill and determination they displayed, as well as the real-world experience they gained, will serve them well.

However, Yuuei must regain the trust of the people. We apologize for having worried the families of the first-year students but hope to continue counting on your trust and support moving forward.

Sincerely, Hero Class 1-A Homeroom Teacher, Shota Aizawa

Masaru frowned as he smoothed the paper. He filed it quietly and took out the recycling. He had to admire Aizawa; the man had almost died for his students, but he still felt compelled to reassure the parents. Katsuki’s recounting of the event had made him want to pull his son from the school – not that he ever would, being a hero was all Katsuki had ever dreamed of. It was a frightening prospect, but there was no turning back. At least his son had a teacher as dedicated as he was.

 

Izuku felt a weight on his shadow as he and Bakugo approached the classroom. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed a mildly surprised Aizawa. He held a finger up to his lips with a sly smile. Izuku gave him a curt nod in return.

“If you hug me again, I will blast you,” Bakugo told him before he opened the door.

Izuku caught Aizawa smirking out of the corner of his eye before he replied, “As is your right,” and wrapped his arms around Bakugo, pressing his face to his chest.

One hand crackled with weak explosions as the other pat his hair gently. Bakugo glared at Aizawa when he spotted him. “What’re you looking at?”

“Two emotional brats being awkward, when they should be getting to class.”

Bakugo growled and intensified the crackling.

Aizawa’s smirk in intensified in response and he raised an eyebrow at him as if in challenge.

Bakugo maintained his glare as Izuku dragged him to his seat.

“Be nice, Kacchan. Aizawa-sensei went through a lot, too.”

“It’s okay to be shaken up by a situation like that,” Aizawa said with a nod. “You did well in the moment. You all did.”

“Oh, Midoriya!” Yaoyorozu called to him. As she approached Bakugo’s desk Izuku felt his stomach drop. “Do you have a moment?”

“Uh, sure. What’s up?” he asked hoping that his reaction read as being nervous about the cute girl talking to him.

“I want you to introduce me to your friend Mei. I need to get my hero costume redesigned. Aizawa-sensei said that we have to talk to a support student or Power Loader ourselves.”

“Sure I can drag her to lunch with us,” Izuku replied. “Oh, and he prefers Maijima-sensei at school.”

“Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

 

Maijima was grateful to have the boys drag Mei off with them again. When they arrived in the cafeteria, Bakugo had already had the group push two tables together, despite Iida’s protests. Mei was installed next to Yaoyorozu, and Shinso sat on the other side of her. Izuku hopped over the tables to sit next to Bakugo.

“Everyone, the infamous Mei Hatume. Mei, darling, Jiro, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Hagakure.” He gestured down half of one side of the tables.

“Please call me Toru!”

“Ariyama, Asuka, and Aki.” He finished that side of the table. “Kaminari, Bakugo, Kirishima, Ashido, and Sero. Ono, Tachibana, Suzuki, and Kazama,” Izuku listed off the students to his right.

Ono’s normally white hair was currently black. Six small copies of him, with different hair colors, ran up to the table carrying trays or drinks to deliver to different members of class 1-C, before returning to his side and disappearing in a brief burst of matching light. As each copy was reabsorbed his hair changed color until it returned to its normal state.

Mei nodded. She took in the group of eighteen students from two different classes. “A pleasure to meet you all.” She joined Izuku and Shinso at the end of the table.

The group chatted and laughed about this and that, until Todoroki asked Izuku, “How are you so open with your emotions without coming off as harsh or weak?”

Izuku thought for a moment before answering, “It’s not like keeping them to myself hurts any less. And to be honest, since my accident, I’ve had a couple of outbursts and just felt better afterward. It didn’t always change the behavior of the other person, but I was able to voice how I really felt, even if I hadn’t quite figured that out at the start.” Izuku paused. “Mostly it’s about being honest with myself. Before the accident, I was always trying to convince myself that it was okay, that I deserved to be treated that way, that I should bear it instead of causing trouble for other people. I don’t really do that anymore so I’m a lot happier.” He smiled brightly.

“You were bullied before?” Yaoyorozu asked.

“From four until about a year ago,” he said with a nod.

“Bakugo must have gotten into a lot of fights defending you,” Aki said. “I’m surprised Yuuei let in a student with that kind of record.”

Bakugo looked down, his plate suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Izuku’s mouth pressed into a thin line. He glanced at Bakugo and started to say something when the other boy spoke up. “I was the worst.”

“Kacchan, don’t –”

“I was. You feel better being honest? Well, I want that too. I bullied you. Fuck, Deku I told you to kill yourself.” The students around both tables gasped. “I thought you were trash just because you didn’t have a quirk, and I’ve never apologized for it.”

“Yes, you did! In the hospital.”

“I did not,” Bakugo argued. He furrowed his brow trying to remember if he had. 

“You said you were a shitty friend and a terrible person. And that you were sorry, and you’d be a better brother.” Izuku threw his arms around Bakugo. “You’re upset. And it’s understandable, but I don’t want you to beat yourself up over it. If I wanted you beat up, I’d kick your ass myself.”

Bakugo snorted. “You can’t kick my ass.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Izuku said giving him one last squeeze. “Anyway,” he turned his attention back to Todoroki, “Not seeming weak is about confidence. I fell six stories after almost drowning in sludge villain. A bunch of middle schoolers that would be lucky to get into a decent high school telling me I’m worthless when the only other student at that school that could compete with my quirkless ass was Kacchan aren’t a threat anymore. Hell, the shitty extras never were.” He paused. “Does that seem harsh? Because it is. And as much as you see me hanging off of Kacchan like an adoring fanboy, keep in mind that I decked him twice in the last year. If you don’t wanna seem harsh, do it with a smile.”

Todoroki frowned deeply.

“Before the fall,” Bakugo explained, “Deku’s quirk was so weak, he was diagnosed as quirkless.”

“Maybe you should stop calling him that,” Kirishima suggested.

“I tried that.” Bakugo touched his cheek. “I don’t wanna be thrown across the room. Plus he can actually throw a punch now.”

“I’m glad you remember that at least,” Izuku said warmly. He reached up and touched the same cheek. “What have we learned?”

“Deku’s not made of glass.”

“Good. I hope next time I have to teach you something I won’t have to beat it into you.”

Bakugo shook his head. He held up his hand making a circle with his index finger and thumb. “I am this close to blasting you.”

“But, Kacchan, your fingers are touching.”

“Exactly.”

There was a pause before Izuku jumped up and sprinted to the exit, Bakugo hot on his tail.

Todoroki sat in stunned silence as the rest of the group laughed at their antics. Lunch Rush yelled at them and Izuku apologized for running.

“He shouldn’t be trying to assault you,” the hero lectured.

“We were just goofing around,” Izuku placated. “It’s not like he can catch me anyway.”

“I can so,” Bakugo grumbled.

“No you can’t~,” he said in a sing-song tone.

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t~.”

“Yes I –” Bakugo stopped. “Are you. Are you kidding me with this?”

Izuku grinned ear to ear. “Anything you can do I can do better~.”

Bakugo shoved him playfully. “I’m not doing that.”

“I can do anything better than you~.”

“I’m not singing in public.”

“Wuss.”

Shinso said, “Oof,” from his spot next to Mei.

“I get that their relationship is complicated, but they should really treat each other nicer,” Yaoyorozu said.

“Eh, siblings are like that sometimes,” Kazama offered.

“Izuku designed ear protection that doubles as a communicator when it occurred to him that Bakugo might have some hearing loss due to his quirk,” Mei said. “This is superficial, that is love. He knows his brother won’t respond well to concern, but he will accept an upgrade.”

“They can be honest with each other without hurting each other, despite their past,” Todoroki said in a monotone that rivaled Shinso’s.

Izuku was still humming when they sat back down.

“Fine,” Bakugo growled. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I can. Yes, I can! Yes, I caaannn!”

Izuku applauded, and Bakugo nailed him in the ribs with a small explosion. “Ah! Watch the uniform, Kacchan!” He brushed at the singe marks on his jacket. He turned to Todoroki again. “See? I can be just as terrible to him, but everyone thinks it’s funny because I’m small and cute and smiling.” He fished out the phone with the All Might charm. “It’s easier to train yourself to do something than to stop doing something. So rather than training myself to not be a pushover, I trained myself to fight back. Instead of training myself to stop the depression spiral, I trained myself to remember my progress, and what makes me happy.” He handed the phone to the other boy.

The picture on the screen was of Izuku and Bakugo in front of a beach, part of it stacked with trash. Both boys were smiling as they squeezed in for the selfie.

“If you have a hard time smiling, try cataloging the things that make you happy. It helped me.”

Todoroki skimmed through the pictures. He found one of them sitting at the lunch table smiling and laughing. While his mouth was its usual neutral line, his eyes sparkled with mirth. “Can I get a copy of this one?” he asked handing the phone back to Izuku.

“Sure,” Izuku replied. He sent it along with a text that read, Just don’t fake it, nothing is more attractive to me than your honest, breathtaking smile.

 

Yaoyorozu met with them in the workshop after school. Maijima hovered nearby after a stern warning that they were to sketch and draft only. Yaoyorozu was flipping through a book of sample costumes.

“I need insulation and padding. None of these do any of that.”

“That book’s for girls, try this one,” Shinso told her.

Mei was muttering to herself. “Knee pads, shin guards, elbow pads, gloves.”

Izuku was sketching in his notebook. “Pteruges.”

“What?” Mei looked up from her rambling.

“Armor you want to recommend to Yaoyorozu, yeah?”

Mei nodded.

“Pteruges is a skirt-like piece of Greek or Roman armor,” Izuku explained.

“Shoulder pads, and arm guards, too,” Shinso added.

“Yes,” Yaoyorozu agreed. “I should cover my scars.”

The trio stopped. “Is, is that something you want?” Izuku asked slowly. “We were just going to alter your current design to be more practical.”

“I don’t mind the scars, but I can’t be a popular hero if I’m not… you know,” Yaoyorozu said with a sigh.

“A sex object?” Shinso asked bluntly.

“If that’s the direction you’re going in then I’m sorry I can’t help you,” Mei said. “In the House of Hatsume, we strive for equality. A hero is a hero.”

“I’m not ashamed of my scars. I just know what the public wants in a female hero. Even if I don’t agree with it.”

“Then change it,” Izuku said. “Thirteen is reasonably popular, for a rescue hero. Or take Mirko for an example. She’s a front-line melee fighter second only to All Might and the most popular female on the charts despite how new she is. And her title may as well be ‘thick thighs save lives’ for all the good it does her. Her demographics are horny males ages twelve and up. She’s popular enough to set trends and buck the system. But she won’t. She’s comfortable conforming, and pretending that a sporty personality isn’t part of the male wish-fulfillment fantasy. After all, sex sells, especially if you act like that’s not what you’re selling.”

“You seem to have lost the plot,” Maijima said in an amused tone.

“She could have a genuine female empowerment vibe going, but instead caters to the male gaze for fear of losing a chunk of her audience.”

“So, what you’re saying is if I want to make a difference, it needs to be from the start?”

“And he’s not wrong,” Maijima agreed. “It’s harder to rebrand yourself farther down the line. Even though he stuck to his colors, there was a lot of backlash when All Might changed to his Bronze Age costume. The overall feel was darker, more mature, and less friendly. He averages seven years with a particular design but had that one for only three.”

“But if we start from scratch…” Yaoyorozu trailed off biting her lip.

“You won’t be behind your peers at all,” Maijima reassured her. “Most of them are getting alterations too, but the new stuff won’t be authorized until after the sports festival.”

 “So, I did some sketches, tell me if you like anything.” Izuku handed his notebook over.

After looking at the designs for a while, Yaoyorozu told them, “I like this, where the belt becomes a skirt; the Pteruges. I could still produce items from my legs but it would offer protection. Though, it doesn’t help against electric attacks.”

“Everything can be insulated,” Mei said and began a new sketch. “If the boots are knee high the knee pads can be built in, thick rubber sole, sensible heel; Matching elbow length gloves.”

“Can the palms be exposed?”

“Half palm might work,” Shinso said. “So you can have some grip protection while fighting.”

“And leggings for winter. Sleeves too,” Mei muttered.

“I dig the halter style top, but…” Shinso trailed off

“The back needs to be open,” Yaoyorozu supplied. “Honestly, my cleavage should be covered, at least a little.”

“Zippers are your friend,” Izuku replied. He showed her a sketch. “If we did a crop top halter with zips in the back and front that are upside down, we’d maximize the area you can produce objects with.”

“I’d like to reinforce her abdomen somehow,” Mei muttered.

“That’s kind of the prime creation zone,” Shinso reminded her.

“It’s also where most fleshy bipeds keep their squishy organs,” Mei huffed.

“Move the dictionary to a pouch on the side,” Shinso said. “We could put in a detachable piece. Solid in the back but leaving her belly button exposed like it is now.”

“Or change the book out for a digital option, like a holographic projector, an electronic visor, or …” Izuku trailed off into a contemplative mumble.

“Still doesn’t get her squishy bits defended,” Mei grumbled. “If I armor the chest piece, and sweep it into a plate on the lower back…”

Several new looks were sketched up and approved by Yaoyorozu. Final approval would come from Maijima-sensei.

“That just leaves tech,” Izuku grinned. “Goggles synced to an electronic version of her dictionary and the communicators. Anything else?”

“Not that she couldn’t make,” Mei admitted. “But first aid kit should be standard.”

“And she’ll need to conserve energy at the end of a fight, so restraints are a must.”

“Zip cuffs?” Izuku asked.

“For now,” Mei agreed her nose buried in her sketchbook. “Super-magnetic cuffs, grapple gun…”

They were just finishing when Bakugo stalked in with Kirishima and Todoroki following close behind him. “Shitty hair and half ’n’ half wanna join us for training for the next two weeks.”

“Oh, have fun then,” Izuku replied.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m on a strict training regiment from Aizawa. I get an hour of strength training a day.”

“That’s BS. He just doesn’t know what you’re capable of.”

“I don’t want to mess up my chance at getting into the hero course.”

“Pervy Grape’s not going to last; he’s not cut out for the hero course. He was complaining about not getting any sympathy and I told him to shove it, at least they didn’t drown him. Shitty hair told him about my skydive, and that lots of us got hurt worse than him, but aren’t complaining about it. I mean we’re all healed any… way.” Bakugo looked at Izuku as if a switch had just been flipped in his brain.

Izuku frowned. “Skydive?”

Bakugo ignored him. “This must be what you feel like all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah, injuries aren’t a big worry and I recover from trauma at an impressive rate. Kacchan, what did you do?”

“He didn’t,” Kirishima defended. “That smoke guy dropped him from way up.”

“Oh my god.” Izuku feigned shock. He hugged Bakugo to hide his lack of emotion. He should have been hiding anger. Kurogiri could have killed him doing that. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t a big deal. I slowed my fall with blasts. Actually, it helped Kirishima find me, and I only broke my ankle. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Upset me?” he asked from Bakugo’s shoulder. “You’re the one that was hurt.”

“If he’s going to be doing aerial stunts like that, we should make him some leg braces,” Mei said stepping up behind Izuku. She rubbed his back comfortingly, but gave Bakugo an appraising look; like a snake that was brought a particularly plump mouse.

Izuku nodded and pulled away. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Maybe you and I can work on sketches while they train?” When Mei frowned at the idea of less time in the workshop he added, “Seeing how they move will give you a better idea of how to build joints and armor.”

“Only if Yaoyorozu is going; I don’t want to spend any time away from the baby I’m making her.”

“You’re not making anything until after I approve the design,” Maijima reminded her.

Mei pouted.

“Okay, I’ll join you. It could be fun.”

 

Izuku had finished his knife fighting and run with Toga and they were seated at the bar with nothing to do. “Hey, so after school every day, well most days – on Fridays, I won’t be – for the next two weeks, I’m going to be cleaning up the beach near my place.”

“That sounds disturbingly familiar,” Kurogiri said.

“With All Might?” Tomura rasped.

“No, at least I wasn’t told he’d be there. Just Kacchan and some kids from 1-A.” He turned to Kurogiri. “Speaking of Kacchan, he told me you dropped him.”

“He was a threat, and fully capable of slowing his descent.”

“Beautiful. Now tell me the real reason.”

“I… he’ll always be closer to you. There’s half your life I can’t share with you.”

“Oh, love, no. I’m not sharing anything with him. Emotionally I’m closer to Toga, or Shinso. I place more value on Tomura. Kacchan’s guilt makes him easier to manipulate,” Izuku told him as he leaned over the bar. “I’m already gathering friends from his class. Todoroki asked me how to be more open emotionally without seeming weak. Yaoyorozu asked me to introduce her to Mei. He’s a tool, one I’ll use until it breaks.” He kissed Kurogiri on the lips.

“I know that you have a habit of going all in when you go, but you cannot convince me that you do not care for Kacchan.” Izuku could feel Kurogiri’s smile as he spoke.

“It’s not that I don’t care about him. It’s that I’ll always remember him telling me to jump off the school roof, to get reincarnated with a quirk. Things between Kacchan and I are complicated, and not in a good way. I’m sorry if I made you feel left out, but really, I can’t even tell them about you. I share everything with you.” Izuku kissed him again. “Please don’t be upset.”

“I’m not,” Kurogiri replied. He reached out and squeezed Izuku’s wrist; a silent but powerful reassurance. “Aren’t you mad at me for hurting him?”

“No, just miffed that you felt the need to hide it from me.”

“I guess I may be jealous in some regards.”

Izuku wrapped his shadow around Kurogiri. “I love you. I have weird codependence issues with Kacchan. I was willing to kill him to protect you. Please don’t forget that.”

“I promise.” Kurogiri gave his wrist another squeeze before hauling him over the bar. He wrapped his arms around Izuku and held him close.

“Get a room, perverts,” Tomura said.

“We have a room,” Izuku shot back. “Well, um, I mean…”

“You do sleep there every night. It’s only natural to start thinking of it as your space as well. You called the bar ‘home’ several times,” Kurogiri murmured in his ear. “We should start making you feel at home. Why don’t you start keeping some clothes here?”

“We can go to the mall after school Saturday!” Toga said excitedly.

“I do need a new pair of shoes,” Izuku admitted. “Tomura’s old pair fit surprisingly well, but they are not going to last much longer.” He paused then added, “But I can only hang out until six. After that, I have to go over to Aizawa-sensei’s and seduce him.”

Izuku was squeezed almost painfully tightly. Toga asked, “Really?”

“No, god, that would be awful, if he let that happen. He’s… He…” Izuku trailed off not quite able to articulate his feelings on the matter.

“He’s our current benchmark for what a hero should be,” Tomura supplied. “If he fails that hard, we’d have to scrap the whole society.”

Izuku nodded. “Exactly.”

Chapter 24: Rescue Training

Yamada-sensei was already in the classroom when they arrived that morning. Panicked text messages were discreetly sent out, and the students sat in their seats silently when they arrived. As soon as the last one came in, a full five minutes before the bell, Ariyama began the announcements. She quickly turned things over to Yamada-sensei who had taken roll at the same time.

He chuckled a bit at their grim expressions. “Hey, hey, hey, listeners. It’s okay. No one is in trouble and nothing bad has happened. Well, nothing new. I know this is a bit of a rush, but would any of you like to help Class 1-A with their make-up rescue training? It’ll be held at the USJ facility. Improvements to security have already been implemented; including an alarm being raised the moment communications are cut. And You’ll have a panic button in case the rescue scenario gets out of hand or too intense. Anyway, we’d like as many volunteers as possible, but it is voluntary.”

“How many teachers will be there?” Ariyama asked.

“No fewer than four; Hound Dog will also be there.”

 “Will it be an all-day event?”

“Yeah,” Yamada-sensei answered. “Normally we’d split them into teams of three and have them run through rescue scenarios one team at a time, but we’re hoping to get them two days' worth of training in one day, so they don’t fall behind.”

“So each teacher would be supervising a group?”

“That’s, roughly, the plan, for the first exercise. The second will be done in larger groups.”

The class murmured as they discussed the request. Ariyama took a vote; the whole class wanted to go.

“You guys are lifesavers!” Yamada-sensei cheered as the bell rang. He quickly texted as he spoke, “You can leave your stuff here; I’ll just lock the room. And would you prefer coffee and donuts or sushi?”

The class was evenly split on the reward.

“Tell ya’ what: I’ll swing for both. I can guarantee coffee and donuts on Monday, but sushi might have to wait until later in the week, okay?”

“You’re spoiling us.”

“You are going to be so well-behaved, and just the best little actors today, you’ll deserve it!”

 

Izuku could see the hole in the side of the dome where the nomu had been ejected. The crew working to repair it looked like ants scurrying around the massive tear. He could scarcely take his eyes off the damage.

“Don’t be scared, Deku.”

“I’m not, Kacchan. If anything happened you’ll be there to protect me.”

Shinso snorted. “Already playing the rescue victim?”

“Well, I have to get in character, don’t I?” Izuku grinned. “There’s sushi and donuts riding on this performance.”

Shinso nodded. “Best not to endanger the free food.”

As soon as the bus stopped, the two classes were separated. Yamada-sensei and Hound Dog led class 1-C (gasping in awe at the sheer size of the facility) to the bottom of a chasm.

The rough, cracked concrete against his shadow was giving Izuku flashbacks to the fight. Henchmen flying. All Might’s grim expression. The icy pain of his shadow being ripped to shreds. Aizawa laying bleeding and broken on the ground. His numbness at being in the facility again was masked by the expected awe and wonder the class experienced seeing it for the first time.

“This place is huge!” “God, you could live in here and never know the difference.” “This is a literal mountain!”

He hadn’t been in the mountain area. The packed dirt and hard rock were a relief compared to the partially patch concrete. Izuku jogged a bit to catch back up with Shinso at the head of the class.

“Okay, so, let’s split into teams of three, so we can get this done in one go. You’ll be filling the rolls of three victims: one victim is unconscious, one has a broken leg, and one is panicking. The remaining two will get clipboards to tick off the heroes' behaviors and stand with Hound Dog or I. The top half of the list is good behaviors – if they take vitals, comfort the wounded, make a splint – and the bottom is bad – argue with each other, yell at you guys, get rough with the injured. Okay?”

“Yes sensei!” the class chimed.

“Here are the clipboards. If everyone is comfortable with these roles you can spread out to the tape Xs on the ground,” Hound Dog instructed. He and Yamada-sensei split up to situate themselves with the second and fifth groups, so they could observe them and the group to either side; covering all the students.

 

Izuku, Shinso, and Asuka ended up as a group. They had just claimed their roles when they heard the hero students arriving at the top of the chasm. Several of them peered over the ledge before they announced their arrival officially and began descending the cliff.

“Stay calm; we are here to rescue you!” Iida shouted to them.

“Please hurry! He is unconscious!” Asuka shouted back, flapping his wings.

Shinso snickered from where he lay but schooled himself quickly.

“You’re finally here!” Izuku added. “We’re saved!”

Tokoyami descended cautiously in the climbing harness. “Is anyone else injured?” he asked as the rescue stretcher was lowered with Uraraka sitting on it.

“He’s unconscious!” Asuka repeated.

“I have a broken leg,” Izuku said.

“Everything will be alright,” Tokoyami assured them. He knelt next to Shinso and checked his pulse. “Did he hit his head?”

“I don’t know! Everything happened so fast!” Asuka squawked.

“It’s alright,” Tokoyami said soothingly. He brought Dark Shadow out with a flourish of his cloak. “Help me get him on the stretcher.”

“Shut up,” the large looming shadow replied.

Izuku could sense Dark Shadow drawing power from the shade in the chasm. It pulled on his own shadow in an oddly pleasant way; like feeling the salt spray of the ocean on a warm day. He realized that this was the first time he had been near them when Dark Shadow had been out.

“Quickly!” Tokoyami called.

“I want to carry that one instead.” He pointed at Izuku. It almost looked like he was puffing out his chest to appear more impressive.

“Once the unconscious one is on the stretcher and we’ve stabilized his leg,” Tokoyami insisted.

“We can do it together,” Uraraka said, hopping off the stretcher.

“Good,” Dark Shadow said dismissively and began sifting around for a splint.

The pair quickly moved Shinso onto the stretcher, which Uraraka lightened for Iida. He pulled him up swiftly but smoothly. “Safe!”

“Release!” Uraraka called back.

Tokoyami turned to Izuku to find Dark Shadow trying to secure the splint to his shin.

“Is that tight enough? Too tight?” Dark Shadow asked.

“It’s perfect,” Izuku replied. “You are an amazing quirk!”

“It’s a useful tool,” Tokoyami said as Dark Shadow scooped Izuku up, “even if you can’t separate from it.”

“I don’t think he’s a tool. He can always help you! So cool,” Izuku gushed. His eye shined with genuine admiration.

Dark Shadow hesitated when he reached the edge of the shadows, but he tucked Izuku tighter to his chest and pushed on. Izuku felt like he was drowning. The pleasant spray was now an overwhelming deluge as Dark Shadow stretched beyond his limits to place Izuku safely at the cliff top. He retreated all the way to Tokoyami the moment his hands left Izuku.

Izuku took a steadying breath. The sudden release of the pull left him lightheaded and his vision swam for a moment.

“Alright,” Uraraka said reassuringly, as she fitted Asuka with the climbing harness, “it may be a little scary but try not to move too much.” She patted him on the shoulder and he floated to the top of the cliff.

Iida retracted the rope as he rose and had him safely lying on the ground before calling, “Safe!” again.

“Release!”

Their party safe, Izuku shouted, “Thank you, hero!”

 

“Please help us!” Aki shouted up to the hero students when she decided that they were taking too long.

Todoroki took charge. “Hagakure, can you pull one of them up on your own?”

Toru shook her head. “Unfortunately, no.”

“Shoji, you can lift, what was it, five hundred pounds?”

“Five-fifty.”

“Good. You can lower us on the stretcher, and lift the unconscious one. Let’s not waste time with this training.”

Toru dashed to the cliff edge. “We’re here to rescue you. Please stay calm!” She turned back to the boys. “We have to make sure they know help has arrived, that way they won’t panic. It’s why All Might always announces ‘I am here,’ to make everyone feel safe.”

“Right,” Todoroki nodded a fraction of light blooming in his usually dull expression.

“Hurry up already!” Aki shouted back. “My friend has a broken leg and this guy is unconscious!”

Tachibana face-palmed from his prone position. “Seriously, that’s how you act worried?”

“Is that how you act unconscious?” she retorted.

Kazama laughed at the two of them.

With only a little bit of adjusting Toru and Todoroki were loaded onto the rescue stretcher for Shoji to lower. Toru wondered why Todoroki insisted she sit in the middle holding the ropes until he hopped off while they were still ten feet in the air. She gave a little yelp but managed to keep the thing from swaying too much. It explained why he had positioned her so carefully but she still wished he’d warned her.

He landed in a perfect three-point crouch. Standing in a fluid motion, he handed the harness to Aki. “Put this on, while I get him on the stretcher.” He moved over to Tachibana and began checking his vitals.

“What if I don’t do it right?” Aki asked taking the tangle of straps.

“It’s going to be okay,” Todoroki reassured her. “I’ll check before attaching the rope.”

As soon as Toru touched down, she joined him in securing Tachibana on the stretcher. A tug on the rope signaled Shoji to haul him up.

Todoroki’s neutral expression turned to a frown when they turned back to the girls, and they were just staring at them.

“I’ll get her into the harness if you can find a splint,” Toru offered. She had no idea where to begin with a splint.

“Okay,” he agreed easily. Turning to Kazama, he said, “Try not to move around too much. We’ll get you out of here soon.”

“Here, let me show you,” Toru turned the other girl’s attention to her and the harness. “Slide the legs on like pants. Secure the waist like a belt. Not as fashionable as the one you’re wearing, but way more functional. These straps come up, over the shoulders, and snap into the belt like that.” She secured them with a click. “Now we tighten everything until it's snug. Not too tight?”

“No, it’s fine,” Aki replied.

“Good,” Toru said chipperly. “Mind the rocks.” She tugged the rope to send her up the cliff.

Meanwhile, Todoroki had splinted Kazama’s leg with his back armor and her other leg and was holding her bridal style in his arms. “Ready,” he asked Toru as she stepped over to him.

Toru rested her hands on his shoulders. “Ready!”

 They rose to the top of the cliff on a pillar of ice.

“Wow, you are so strong!” Kazama cooed. “I bet you could hold me forever.”

Todoroki walked the short distance to where Tachibana was and deposited her down gently. “You’ll be safe here.”

“Thank you, hero!”

 

Asui hopped down the cliff face, while Sero used his tape to descend. Mashirao lowered the harness and stretcher. He was feeling a little useless at the moment, this particular team didn’t need him and his quirk was useless in this situation.

“Stay calm and carry on,” Sero called down.

Ariyama had a hard time staying quiet as Mizue Chinen, multi-colored paint dripping from her flailing hands, excitedly played her part. “Help! Help! We’re injured and scared and there are wolves after us!” She pointed to a crude rendering of three dog-like figures she had made on the cliff wall.

 Sero laughed. “I’ll take care of them!” He lunched tape out of his free elbow as he touched down. “That should scare them off long enough to get you three to safety.” He turned to Chinen. “What’s the situation?”

“She’s unconscious and his leg is broken! He’s in a lot of pain!”

Hirofumi Kubo moaned piteously on the ground. “I tried to climb out to get help but fell.” He brushed his short, pink hair out of his deep blue eyes.

Sero nodded. “Alright. Everything is going to be okay.”

He and Asui secured Ariyama on the stretcher and Mashirao pulled her up. It was hard to do by himself but at least he was of some use.

Sero crafted a splint from his tape for Kubo. “Is that good? Not too tight?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Asui wrapped him in her tongue and hopped back up the cliff with ease.

“Right, now to get you into the harness.” He helped Chinen adjust the straps and double-checked the carabineer. He sent a line of tape up and ascended with her.

“I’m not too heavy for your friend, am I?” she asked.

“Hmm? Why would you ask that?”

“Well, I mean I am a little fat.”

“I thought you were more cute,” Sero replied with a grin. “Not that a little weight matters either way.”

“Thank you, hero.”

 

Momo strode to the edge and called down, “Please keep calm; we will get to you right away!” She then began producing a pulley system and two additional harnesses. She muttered almost to herself, “The first thing to do is reassure the victims. Then descend safely. Check for injuries.”

Hoshino shouted back, “Please hurry! She’s not moving!”

Addressing Jiro and Kaminari she said, “I can make medical supplies if they need them the two of you can operate the pulleys.”

“Right,” they agreed in unison.

She was relieved that they still trusted her at all after the last time they were here. She tried to remind herself that she was a student, she was still learning. It wasn’t her, their, fault that they weren’t prepared.

When Momo’s feet touched the ground she turned her focus to the task at hand and assessed the situation. Ami Himura was playing the unconscious victim in the group. She had spent the bus ride braiding her long, wavy hair, it was doing a fine job of keeping the dirt out of it.

“Are you hurt?” Momo asked Ono as she began checking Himura for injuries.

“My leg. It’s broken,” Ono started.

Hoshino interrupted, “Can’t you see his leg is broken?”

Himura giggled and pushed the pink locks of her otherwise black hair off her face.

“Everything will be fine. We have the situation under control,” she assured them as the stretcher reached the bottom. She quickly took Himura’s vitals and had Hoshino help move her onto the stretcher.

Jiro and Kaminari pulled her up smoothly and quickly. She then made a splint and fitted Ono with it and one of the climbing harnessed. She assisted Hoshino into the other.

“Alright,” Momo said reassuringly, “It may be a little scary but try not to move.” She signaled the others to pull them up.

Hoshino hugged her as soon as they reached the top and said, “Thank you, hero!”

 

Yuga descended the cliff face in three controlled falls, his cape fluttering spectacularly. “Do not fret, mes petits grimpeurs! Je suis là!”

The trio giggled at the flamboyant hero student as he removed the climbing harness.

“Please,” Isago said dourly.

“Please save us!” Takara Arioku called, still laughing. “Oh, sparkling hero!”

Ikuno Miyajima lay helplessly on the ground trying to control her giggles.

“Shh,” Isago hissed, smirking himself.

Yuga was undaunted. “We will have you rescued in no time!”

“Oh, hurry! Ikuno-chan is unconscious! I’m soooo worried~!” Arioku fretted with her fists pressed under her chin.

Yuga looked Miyajima over and took her pulse. “She is breathing fine, not bleeding, and her pulse is steady. She will be fine. Please, help me get her onto the stretcher. I’ll support her head, if you can get her legs?”

“Yeah, I can do that, I think.”

“Okay, we don’t need to lift that high, just a little and move her over. Get a good grip, and on three… one, two, three!” They moved Miyajima smoothly. “Tres bien!” Yuga signaled for Sato and Koda to pull the stretcher up.

Miyajima was still giggling when she reached the top.

“Now, let me have a look at that leg, mon ami.” Yuga was able to use his gauntlets to fashion a splint, and slipping the climbing harness on Isago was easy, once the straps were loosened. “And up you go!”

Yuga chatted idly with Arioku as they waited for the harness to be sent back down.

 

“Please hurry! She’s not moving!” Yuna Otokawa shouted up at the descending hero student. Small visual effects popped up around her, most notably the kanji for a rapid heartbeat and worrying.

“Help is on its way!” Mina called back. She descended steadily. “Okay,” she said removing the climbing harness, “Can you put this on while I see to your friends?”

“I guess. I don’t really know how.”

“I’ll check it to make sure it’s right,” Mina assured her as she knelt to examine Suzuki. He lay perfectly still, so she carefully scooped the small and light student up and placed him on the stretcher. Once the straps were snug she called up, “Bakugo, Mineta, you’re up!”

There was a shout and a yelp before the stretcher began to rise.

Mina turned to Otokawa. “Okay, tighten this. That hooks there. Perfect!” She tugged the rope. “Kirishima!” Once Otokawa’s feet were off the ground she turned to Kinu Ubukata. “How’s your leg?”

“It’s broken.”

Nodding, Mina pulled out the provided boards and began fashioning a splint. She chatted idly as she worked, to keep Ubukata’s mind off her ‘injury’. By the time she was finished, the harness had been lowered back down.

“Thanks, hero,” Ubukata said as she was lifted up the cliff.

 

The whole exercise was over within a matter of minutes. It was all very fast and efficient.

“Rescuing people without using your quirk is quite a taxing job. That’s how modern heroes must shine~!” Thirteen explained to the group. “Many of you, correctly, judged that your quirk could not be used in this situation. There are many Pros incapable of acting in a normal way. They always think of themselves, and when they encounter a challenging situation, they put it aside. When you manage to understand and remember, you pass. I’m sure you will become beautiful heroes. You all did a great job for your first time!”

“We’ve got a lot to get through today, so let’s move on,” Aizawa said uncomfortably. “Next up is urban rescue.” He led them down the mountain again. “The point this time is a more genuine experience. The injured could be anywhere and you won’t know their condition. We’re giving our disaster victims eight minutes to spread out and hide wherever they want. Nine members of 1-A will be joining them. Fourteen of you won’t be allowed to speak. Yamada and Inui will let you know who you are.”

“We’re playing hide-and-seek!” Ashido cheered pumping her fist in the air.

“To be precise, almost,” Thirteen corrected. “The first group of heroes will be Ashido, Ojiro, Kirishima, Koda, Sero, Tokoyami, Hagakure, Bakugo, Mineta, and Yaoyorozu.”

“Okay,” Yamada said as they split off from the search party, “Midoriya, Todoroki, Jiro, Isago, Mori, Fukami, and Uraraka: you guys are my silent crew. All right guys, hide wherever you feel comfortable, okay?”

“Okay~!” they replied.

Izuku looked around. He wanted to hide somewhere difficult to find. In a real disaster, the roof would be easy to search, but he was fairly certain his would-be rescuers would stick to street level, at first. Except for Bakugo. Izuku took off running, checking for a building with a balcony. He could hunker down if he had to, or retreat inside if they started searching the building too quickly.

He found a nice half-collapsed apartment building just off the main road and was able to scale the outside easily due to the simulated damage. Izuku settled in on the penthouse balcony and listened for the shouts of searching hero students.

When he heard distant explosions, he knew that the search had started, and Bakugo had taken off on his own. He contemplated slipping inside and holding up in a closet or bathroom to make things difficult for them.

Before he made his decision, his roost was shaken as if by an aftershock. Izuku slipped, his shadow clinging to the balcony as tree limbs danced in his vision. He grabbed the railing and regained his footing on the already angled and cracked floor.

Peering out at the road as he fought to control his breathing, Izuku saw a massive cloud of dust. He could hear genuine panic in the voices of his current and future classmates. He vaulted up onto the roof and leaped to the next building for a better view, as the dust began to settle.

A tall, muscular man wearing a gasmask with horns and spiked shoulder pads was carrying a limp student in one hand as he shouted. The masked man was not one of the thugs they’d hired for the attack.

He lifted his foot and brought it down sharply, producing a powerful shockwave.

Izuku couldn’t help the scream as the building he was on collapsed out from under him. Cold. Dark. No! He activated One for All. His shadow cocooned around him. Izuku rolled to a stop, his arms shielding his head.

He was mostly blocked from view by the low wall of what was the roof he’d been on. He was lucky the man had shown so much restraint. Next to him, the terrain was clear down to the USJ’s foundation. A trickle of blood ran down his hand, from the shard of glass embedded there, and dripped into the pit. He could hear Bakugo attacking the ‘villain’ and knew everyone’s attention would be there.

Tears streamed down his face as Izuku tried to sit up to take stock of his injuries. His head swam. Bile rose in the back of his throat. He hacked and coughed, hiccupped and sobbed. It hurt to breathe. Cold seeped into his limbs. Darkness edged his vision. His heart pounded in his chest.

Izuku curled in on himself, focusing on keeping his shadow tucked beneath him. “Rusty rebar - I hope that’s rust - dangerously tilting lamppost, broken glass, chunks of concrete, a bent street sign.” His voice was rough from inhaling dust and nearly vomiting. “Broken glass, chunks of concrete, peeling paint, asphalt.” He made an effort to move his good hand to run over things. “Kacchan yelling, shifting rubble, a ringing noise.” He started to shake his head but caught himself as his vision was still swimming a little. “Concrete dust, Rust.” Izuku licked his lips. “Sweat.”

His shadow slowly unwrapped and returned to normal. His hands were numb as he fumbled with the panic button.

 

1-A gave a valiant and well-coordinated effort to subdue the masked man, as most of 1-C quickly evacuated the area; Ariyama, Fukami, and Shinso lingering as a last line of defense for them. The heroes bound the ‘villain’ with Sero’s tape and Yaoyorozu fired a net at him from a cannon.

The masked man spared them no words. He grunted and flexed. He pulled his arms away from his body. The tape and net were ripped to shreds. Pieces of them flittered to the ground like confetti.

 

The ‘villain’ stopped; a light flashing on his wrist had caught his attention. He shoved the incoming Bakugo to the ground. “Wait! Wait!” he lifted a hand to his face and pulled his mask off.

The 1-A students all gasped as it was revealed that he was All Might.

“Mic, I thought your students were all –” he was cut off by another salvo from the hero students.

Unconcerned with the plight of their colleague, Yamada, and Inui began circling the crater. “Midoriya!”

Izuku tried to call back but could only cough. He knocked against the wall headless of the pain in his hand. He wasn’t sure how long it was between the first shout and Yamada scooping him into his arms, but he was grateful for the warmth, and to see-hear-feel-smell-taste something other than debris.

“Did you just lick me?”

“Leather polish. Coconut and melon. Growling, Yamada-sensei’s breathing, and All Might’s ass being kicked. Smooth plastic, rough leather, metal studs, and a zipper. Cockatiel hair, that mustache, yellow glasses, green eyes, and headphones.” Izuku slowly pulled back as he listed things. “Sorry, I think I’m okay now.”

“You’re having panic attacks?” Inui asked from behind him.

A burble of hysterical laughter escaped Izuku as Tomura’s words were echoed at him. “Only when I fall off a building!”

“You do parkour!” Yamada pulled him into a loose hug, petting his hair.

“That’s not falling!”

“How high up were you,” Inui interrupted.

“Oh, uh. Four stories, tops. I won’t jump gaps more than three, and even being near the edge at more than four kinda… well it messes with me.” Izuku turned to face him but didn’t move away from Yamada.

“Symptoms?”

“Pretty mild, really. Usually some nausea, an occasional sense of impending doom, difficulty breathing, I had some lightheadedness and numbness this time, but I think being dropped off a building is kinda intense.”

“I’ll see you after class.” As Inui stalked off Izuku could hear him muttering about people being ‘flippant’ with their mental health, before he devolved into unintelligible growling and snarling.

“I think I cut my hand,” Izuku said dully, holding his still-bleeding hand up.

“Oh, shit.” Yamada scrambled for his first aid kit.

 

“Have a seat.”

It was such an innocent thing on the surface of it. Nevertheless, Izuku knew better than to hesitate. That would read as nervous or unsure; as if he was hiding something. He wondered how his choice would be judged. It wouldn’t – couldn’t – reveal much about him; less personality and more mood. He opted to sit in one of the armchairs. He couldn’t help but throw one leg over the arm.

He wanted to project confidence, but not aggression. It was a bit uncomfortable so he put his other leg up as well. Was this free-spirited? Or cocky? He laid his head back.

“Maybe you’d prefer the couch?” Inui offered with a chuckle.

“Nah. This is cozy.”

They lapsed into silence. Izuku kicked his feet experimentally, but it lacked a free swing so he stopped. Just when Izuku thought Inui would try to wait him out the counselor asked, “You don’t seem eager to talk, do you?”

“Oh, uh, I thought you’d ask questions. I don’t exactly know why I’m here. Other than you said to see you.”

“You’re having panic attacks.”

“Only little ones, and they’d mostly stopped. Plus, I think I recovered really fast for having a building dropped out from under me. Most of that could have been chalked up to physical disorientation.” He talked with his hands as he spoke, practicing any words he knew in sign language to give himself something to focus on.

“Tell me about the fall then.”

“I was almost drowned by a sludge villain. All Might saved me and gave me his autograph. Hopped up on a rooftop, turns out the door was locked. I slipped off the fire escape and fell six stories through a tree. Nearly bleed out. Lungs kept filling with fluids. Woke up with a quirk.” It was all very rehearsed with just a slight edge of ‘tired of telling this story.’ None of it was a lie.

“Did you receive any counseling for it?”

Izuku shrugged. “More than Kacchan did for his run-in with the same villain.”

“So, none.”

Izuku shrugged again. “It’s not that bad. I looked it up. I’m functional. I’m coping. The parkour helps; part emersion therapy, part ‘taking control of the situation’. I know how to fall now. Look how well I did today. I bet I won’t even have nightmares about it.”

“You had nightmares before?”

“I was in a coma for a week,” Izuku said quietly. “I’m glad I don’t need much sleep anymore.”

“I’d like you to talk to someone.”

“You mean you.”

“It’s your choice.”

“Because I’m functional and the first incident happened in middle school, so you can’t make me.”

“Because therapy only works if you want it.”

“Uh-huh. Okay. I guess I could try it. Once a month? During lunch, I won’t miss class. I’d prefer after school, but I have a club, and asking you to wait until seven would be rude.”

Inui hummed. “I can be flexible.”

 

Izuku could still taste concrete and leather polish as he ambled to the train station. He checked his wallet to see if he had money for a soda, coffee, or something to wash the taste away. While he didn’t think he’d exactly mind the taste of leather on its own, paired with dust it was starting to make him queasy.

“Young Midoriya,” All Might, or rather Yagi, called timidly. He was half-hidden by the archway leading to the gate.

“Oh, hey!” Izuku trotted over. “Wanna grab some coffee? I can treat.”

“I want to apologize –”

“Donuts.”

“I’m sor–” Yagi blinked at him. “What?”

“Donuts,” Izuku repeated. “Glazed goes over well, so do the jelly ones, and the cinnamon. I could probably find out everyone’s favorites if you want to make it super personal; coffee orders too.”

“I want to apologize to you,” Yagi said slowly.

“Why? You didn’t do anything to me.”

“You got hurt because of me!”

“Oh that. Yeah, no big. I’m fine. Between my healing and panic activating One – you know. I’m fine. I was barely injured and I healed before they even called Recovery Girl.”

“That doesn’t make it okay! This is the second time –”

Izuku grabbed the front of Yagi’s shirt. “That. Was. Not. Your. Fault.”

“Yes it–”

Izuku shook him. “No, bad. You told me to bang on the door to be let in. I made my own decisions. This time, it’s not like you targeted me. It was pure chance that I got caught up in the blast. It could have been anyone. Which is why you need to apologize to both classes.” Izuku released Yagi’s shirt. He smoothed it down. “So, donuts.”

“You’re mad at me,” he said softly. “You have every right to –”

“I’m not,” he started. “I’m not mad at you,” Izuku lowered his voice. The unsaid ‘just disappointed’ hung oppressively between them. “Look. I’m not mad, really, but my mouth tastes like dirt, and water has not fixed it. So, buy me a drink, okay?”

“Of-of course!”

Notes:

Biocards
Name: Mizue Chinen
Kanji: 瑞絵 知念
瑞 auspicious, 絵 picture
知 know/wisdom, 念 wish/thought/feeling
Quirk: Finger Paint – secretes paint from her finger tips
Description: A cute chubby girl that wears the boys uniform and glasses.
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: August 1
Height: 5’2”
Blood Type: B
Likes/dislikes: Painting/drawing, Chocolate, Snow.

Name: Takara Arioku
Kanji: 宝 有奥
宝 Treasure
有 have/possess, 奥 inside
Quirk: Inventory – Can hold 99 copies of 100 different items in extra-dimensional space
Description: A gamer girl with long red hair
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: November 6
Height: 5’
Blood Type: O
Likes/dislikes: In-depth crafting systems, hoodies, trolling boys in online games.

Name: Hirofumi Kubo
Kanji: 尋史 久保
尋 ask, 史 history
久 long time ago, 保 protect
Quirk: Psychometry – can learn the history of an object by touching it.
Description: A cute but serious boy with feathered pink hair
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: December 3
Height: 5’6”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Mythology, making jewelry, hiking/the woods.

Chapter 25: Odds and Errands

Izuku was a little unnerved to be in public with Toga. Where Kurogiri always made him feel safe, with Toga he felt like he was her minder. She would stare at anyone she thought was cute with a hungry look in her eyes. More than once, he had pulled her away from a boy stupid enough to flirt with her.

Both of them had dyed their hair black and with his yellow contacts in, they looked more like siblings than a couple. Toga was wearing a baby pink off-shoulder cropped sweater over a black sleeveless turtleneck and a pink and black plaid skirt with a heart-shaped buckle on the belt. The outfit was capped off with her usual black knee-highs and brown shoes, making Izuku think that she didn’t have any other options.  He had thrown on a promotional shirt for All Might cereal, a pair of jeans, and his red shoes, as well as his ears and some concealer Toga helped him with over his freckles. There was little risk of either of them being recognized, but he still felt a little naked.

In the first store, Toga glared at him as he eagerly grabbed a collection of t-shirts that closely matched the ones he had at home. “No. Bad boy, Str–”

He arched his eyebrows at her. “What?

“Stop getting copies of stuff you already own. This is the perfect opportunity to get what you want, fuck what anyone else thinks.”

He really hadn’t thought of that. “You’re right.” He put the armload of white shirts back, neatly, and began grabbing the same shirts in rust, coral, canary, kiwi, and mauve.

“You are unbelievable,” she told him shaking her head.

 Next, he grabbed a few hero shirts: a print of every named All Might Smash, crosshairs and a cowboy hat, a Star Dust shirt that said ‘Sparkle’, Shishido’s fangs, and a crescent moon. These at least were usually limited to the hero’s color pallet.

He waffled over a few nicer button-ups, until Toga reminded him, “We have daddy’s card; he wants you to look nice for him.”

 Kurogiri had given him a debit card and told him not to worry about how much they spent in total as long as they didn’t spend more than a hundred thousand yen in one store. He agreed to a few in both long and short sleeves. “I don’t really know what to get to ‘look nice’.”

With a devilish grin, Toga picked out a selection of black shirts: onyx, licorice, coal, and smoky black. “Black is essential. It’s always a good place to start. Anybody can wear it and it goes with everything. This is a rich black, a warm black, a cool black, and a grey black.”

“It looks like charcoal grey.”

“Hush. Next, if you get green, add blue to it if you don’t want to match your hair.”

“I don’t?”

“No.” She grabbed three long-sleeved white button-ups that all looked the same to Izuku. “This is ivory, it’s slightly yellow. It pairs with warm tones. This one is snow; goes with cool tones. This is pure white. It will go with anything, but it is very eye-catching.”

“Okay.”

“Now that we’ve got you a baseline, we can add a spot of color.” Toga favored deep and rich reds; dark magenta, currant, ox blood, garnet, and maroon. Next were purples: plum, royal, and nightshade. Finally, she added a few light colors: powder blue, periwinkle, carnation, lilac, peach, and sage.

Pants were easy; Izuku grabbed four pairs of blue jeans, four pairs of black jeans, three pairs of earth-tone men’s yoga pants, and a pair of Ragdoll sweatpants. He grabbed plain socks and underwear and then hit the shoe department for replacement red sneakers, a pair of slippers to wear at home, and a good pair of running shoes.

Necessities out of the way he let Toga get some things for herself. She spent a lot of time in Izuku’s form and he wanted her to be comfortable.

A cream and black hoodie with cat ears and fish on the drawstring was the first thing they agreed on. Izuku easily consented to a few baggy sweaters in dark colors and earth tones; then a deep red cropped one, a lavender one with a pink ribcage print on it, and a black one that laced up the back to the shoulders. These had all been a warm-up to get him comfortable trying on girly clothes. Next, Toga sent him into the dressing room with three very feminine outfits.

The first was a creamy yellow peasant top, a pair of pastel pink shorts, and a pair of strappy sandals. “I’m not coming out in this,” Izuku called.

“Just let me see,” Toga moved to the door.

“The shorts don’t fit. And barely covering may work for you but I am having technical difficulties.”

“God I can hear the blush in your voice. Let me see it.”

“I’m changing into the next one.”

“No, I’ll get you a different size,” she placated him.

Even in the right size, the shorts were problematic. “The waist is too high and look.” He turned to show her the pale pink fabric molding his backside into two prominent globes. “That is not okay.”

Toga smacked his butt. Even under the withering glare he directed at her, she grinned at him. “You’re right. Try the next one. I love that top though. I’ll have to pick out a few more bottoms to go with it.”

The peach ruffle trimmed halter, a light blue skirt with sheer overlay, white tights, and white Mary Janes were, in Izuku’s opinion, a vast improvement over the shorts but it was a little weird being in a skirt. He felt exposed. It was not exhilarating. It felt like when he’d pulled the wrong phone out in front of All Might.

Toga squealed in delight as he turned to show her the outfit. “That top comes in three more colors! And the skirt comes in pink too.”

“I’m glad you like it. The tights help with the weirdness of wearing a skirt.”

“I’ll get a few more of those, too. Any color you like?”

“I assume you’re already planning on black? See if you can match this color.” He showed her his bracelet. “Kur – Kuu-kun likes it against my skin.”

Toga nodded and bounced away as he went to change into a white blouse with a keyhole back and lantern sleeves, a pink, blue, and white tiered tulle skirt, and light blue ribbon tie flats. Izuku had a bit of fun twirling in the puffy skirt before stepping out to show her.

“That’s a winner,” she said. “Plus that skirt can be worn under other skirts to give them more volume.”

“So the all-white one wouldn’t be out of line,” Izuku mused.

“Nope,” Toga agreed. “Okay, get changed. It’s my turn next.” Toga had two loves, baggy sweaters with short skirts and pastel goth outfits. Luckily, there was plenty of overlap. Izuku threw several T-shirts in that said things like princess, kitten, and cute but weird in gothic or dripping fonts and a rainbow of pastel colors.

“We are going to fight over some of these hoodies,” Izuku commented while picking out a black one that had a picture of an open coffin and read ‘Get in loser.’

“Nah, we’ll have enough that we don’t have to. Plus you’re a bit of a pushover,” she countered.

“Am not,” he grumbled as they both grabbed a hoodie that faded from pink to purple to blue and had white bats on it. He grinned and let it go.

 “See,” she said.

“I see nothing. I’m not fighting over getting my way.” He turned suddenly. “Oh. Do you think To– he’ll like it?”

“If he doesn’t we can keep it,” Toga said grabbing the hoodie. It was black, Tomura’s preferred clothing color, with rainbow lettering in an uneven, dripping font. It read ‘Don’t Touch Me.’

Soon they returned to the dressing room. Toga tried on a number of revealing crop and halter tops; Izuku’s favorites were a lavender one that said ‘love me,’ a pink halter top with a fuzzy collar that said ‘bitch’ in sparkly letters, and a black one with pastel skulls on it.

The skirts, shorts, and occasional pair of jeans were all primarily white, black, or purple with pink, blue, or pastel rainbow details. Skull and bat prints were Toga’s go-to, but plaid and tartan seemed to be her favorite.

When she came out of the dressing room in a pink pleated skirt trimmed in white lace that was so short Izuku was shocked he couldn’t see her panties he said, “Careful, Himiko, you’re going to give me a fetish.”

“Oh? You like it?”

“I like you,” he clarified. “Everything else is window dressing.”

“Then, think about Kuu-kun for this next outfit, I wanna get you one that matches.”

She stepped back into the dressing room. Izuku had been expecting something risqué, slutty even. He was not prepared for what she stepped back out in. His heart thudded in his chest.

Toga was wearing a pair of pale pink and white striped leggings, cat paw socks, and a two-sizes-too-large sweater with a wide turtle neck and cat paws embroidered on the ends of the sleeves. He leaned back in the chair.

Izuku swallowed hard. “Didn’t I just tell you to be careful?” He reached a hand forward to check if she was even wearing a skirt only for her to take half a step back and wag her finger at him.

“I want to get you a tail too, but I’ll have to go to a specialty shop,” she said with a wink. Toga kept posing cutely, as if her hands were paws until she heard the creak of the metal arm of Izuku’s chair under his grip.

A wealth of leggings and stockings were added to their purchase. “You are so bad,” Izuku told her.

“Are you going to spank me?” she asked causing the cashier to look up at them startled.

“Unfortunately no, I have an appointment,” he replied. “But you might be able to convince Kuu-kun to, especially if you wear that last number for him.”

“You won’t get jealous?” she asked.

“No…” he paused as he tapped in the PIN. “Actually, I would. I’m terribly possessive. If you played without me I’d be,” he turned and leaned over so his lips brushed hers, “very cross.”

Toga shuddered. Then she laughed and said, “That was good, I almost believed it.”

Izuku smiled. “Good. But, do feel free to play without me. I want you both to be happy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied as they gathered their bags.

The pair decided that if the space was really to be shared, Izuku should pick out some decorations. They started window shopping to browse for ideas.

“Nothing I like fits with the décor, and he already has everything he needs,” Izuku complained as they looked at fancy soap, candles, and coffee mugs.

“Well, that’s not the point, is it? He’s already there. He wants you there, so just get something you like,” Toga replied. “And a rice maker.”

Izuku looked at her confused.

“To– Toki-kun doesn’t cook. There’s only a microwave in the living room and if Kuu-kun sleeps in I don’t like going to the bar for food,” she explained.

“Oh, actually, that’s a good idea. Toki-kun needs to eat better anyway,” Izuku replied.

Armed with the debit card from Kurogiri, they headed to the kitchen accessories shop, teasing each other about how domestic it was. Izuku also grabbed a rabbit-shaped rice scoop that stood up on its own and a full dish set that was molded to look like a fox, a pig, a cat, a bear, and a rabbit. The bowls all had lids and handles.

“You actually enjoy this, don’t you,” Toga teased.

“Parts of it; hanging out with you, making a home with Kuu-kun. But I could take or leave the mall though,” Izuku said. “I could order stuff online.”

“So you came here because of me?”

“You were so excited. I wondered if it was different with a friend.”

“Oh my god. Sometimes I forget that you’re not actually cool.”

“I’m cool,” Izuku protested. “Oh look! How cute!” He dashed over to a display of dim sum nightlights in a bamboo steamer basket charging station.

“Real cool.”

“Hush you.” Izuku sorted through the options. Three palm-sized lights came in each basket; all with cute, smiling, gender-neutral faces. There were four varieties: soup dumpling, shrimp dumpling, pork bun, and peach bun. “They’re all so cute. I can’t decide!”

“You put our stuff on the counter, I’ll pick for you,” Toga said.

“Okay,” Izuku agreed not knowing exactly what she had in mind, only that it would be in some way illegal. He put their three items on the counter and grinned at the cashier. “I think she’s gonna grab one of those light sets.”

The woman, in her thirties, nodded. “Are you shopping for your parents?”

“Uh, yeah. One of the kitchen boxes got lost in the move,” he lied so easily now and it made not having his mask feel less strange; a smile worked just as well.

Toga set the box for the lights on the counter. The woman checked inside since it was open. Toga put her hands together pleadingly and pouted at her. “It’s mom’s birthday. She loves this kind of stuff.”

The woman smiled and scanned the box. The pair let out a quiet cheer.

Izuku carried the bags until Toga pulled him to a bench. “This,” she said pulling a shrimp dumpling light out of her sweater, “is the joy of shopping irl.” Toga stuffed the dumpling into the box with the rest.

Izuku grinned at her and leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek. “You are perfect.”

Toga blushed. “Come on; let’s see what else you want.”

Izuku allowed himself to be pulled into a home goods store, where he quietly decided that he needed to steer away from any All Might-themed décor. Immediately he spotted an alarm clock with an LED jellyfish aquarium that lit up and played a haunting melody. Soon another set of bags was added to the two from Kitchen Magic. Izuku managed to pick out three pillows, two rugs, and a wire jewelry tree before they decided they needed to send stuff home to Kurogiri. 

The rest of their purchases were much more portable. At various shops, they got an Endeavor-themed book light, a plain blue sheet set, curtains, bi, and ace flags (with encouragement from Toga), a Yori Musha-themed tray and tea set, a ceramic vase set, and a set of hero-themed art prints. Then the pair headed up to the parking garage for pick-up.

 

After a quick shower and change of clothes, Kurogiri dropped Izuku off in an alley a block from Aizawa’s apartment building. He made it to the door fifteen minutes early and was waffling about buzzing him to be let in.

When Yamada came strolling up Izuku didn’t recognize him. His hair was down, loose, and came to the middle of his back. He was wearing a fitted white t-shirt, a grey overshirt, dark grey slacks, and rimless glasses. His ears were pierced in three places with two small silver hoops and a matte black metal stud. Izuku nearly missed the discreet hearing aids.

“Hey, little listener! Come on up. No need to stand on ceremony,” he said in a chipper tone, a bag of groceries from a nearby street market rustling in one hand.

“Yamada-sensei?” Izuku asked.

“Yeah, I guess this is the first time you’ve seen me out of costume.” He chuckled as he used a keycard to unlock the door. “Makes a world of difference, huh?”

“You can say that again,” he replied following Yamada into the building. As he punched the code in to unlock the elevator, Izuku noticed a bracelet on his wrist. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, if it weren’t so similar to Kurogiri’s. It was a simple undyed jute cord holding a gold ring in a pair of lark’s head knots. Izuku smiled. “Are you and Aizawa-sensei dating?”

Yamada’s other hand covered the bracelet as he pulled back from hitting the button to Aizawa’s floor. “Uh, what makes you ask that?”

“He said you’d be there when I was hesitant to meet up at his place,” Izuku said. “Midnight too, but only sometimes.”

“Ah, well, you’re a bright kid. Should have known you’d figure it out eventually.”

“I can keep it a secret if you’d like.”

“Well, not secret per se, but just keep it on the down low, yeah?” Yamada grinned at him. “Most of the faculty knows, but parents tend to get a little antsy.”

“That’s such BS, but I understand where you’re coming from.” It was all he could do not to touch his own bracelet. “Even though you’re not doing anything wrong, people just assume.”

“Adversity builds character,” Yamada said softly.

“Bull. Who feed you that line?”

“Everyone. You’re going to have to deal with things that suck. You should experience a wide range of them so you can determine which are worst.”

Izuku gave a snort of laughter that turned into a full chuckle. “That’s a much better outlook.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied unlocking the door with both the key card and a different four-digit pin. “Babe, I’m home! I picked up milk, cat food, and Midoriya!”

Aizawa called back as they slipped off their shoes in the entryway, “Damn it, Zashi!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! He’s really smart, plus you spilled the beans!”

“Me?”

“Oh, Hizashi will be there, so don’t worry!” Yamada mimicked poorly as he led the way into the living room.

“I didn’t say it like that,” Aizawa said defensively. He was sitting on the floor in front of a bright yellow sofa with turquoise and white throw pillows. He appeared to be attempting to grade papers through his bandages.

The apartment was nothing like Izuku imagined. First, it was a lot bigger than he would have predicted, but he guessed the combined income accounted for that. Second, the colors were brighter than he would have guessed for Aizawa, and everything was less ‘a rock star lives here’ than he thought Yamada would go for.

The large square coffee table, the huge bookshelf that divided the living room into two spaces, and the cat ladder were all dark walnut. As were the dining table behind the couch and the computer desk in the far area. The armchairs were different styles and colors; a solid grey club chair with a matching ottoman, a striped blue and cream wingback chair, and a green overstuffed chair and a half; each with a complimentary throw pillow.

The open kitchen was done in crisp white subway tiles and matte grey cabinets with polished nickel hardware. Off that was a hall leading to the bathroom, and three other rooms. One of which had to be some kind of home gym.

“You have a cat,” Izuku said quietly.

Aizawa was staring at him, unmoving and unblinking. There was a long moment, it seemed, where they were trapped, eyes locked. Izuku smiled nervously. His heart stopped as he thought, this was it. Aizawa knew. He’d seen past the flimsy disguise. He’d recognized his voice through the modulator. It was over. He was caught.

Aizawa shook his head lightly. The spell was broken. The rising tension died. Aizawa hadn’t recognized him.

“Two cats, actually,” Yamada replied.

“This is Salt,” Aizawa pointed to the shorthaired orange and white tabby playing with a very realistic toy mouse on the area rug that appeared to be made of various carpet samples, “and this is Extra,” he gestured to the majestic long haired beast draped across his shoulders. It was almost pure white but its face, ears, and tail had a dusting of the lightest grey.

“Salt’s full name is Salted Caramel Macchiato, and Extra’s is Extra Whipped Cream,” Yamada corrected.

“Just let me finish up,” Aizawa said with a sadistic grin, barely visible in his mummified state. “The ones they get wrong are going on the midterm.”

Yamada shook his head. “He might add a few that they’re struggling with, but those tests are made up before the term starts.”

“Hey, don’t undercut my menace.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Yamada said teasingly. “So, are you staying for dinner or are we kicking you out straight away.”

“I don’t know, Aizawa-sensei didn’t say how long we’d be training, but I figure at least an hour, so it depends on if he wants to see my quirk in action again.”

“Is it okay with your mother if you stay for dinner?”

“Yeah, I had some other stuff to do, so I let her know I’d be out all day,” he explained. “As long as I’m home by nine it’s cool.”

“Good, start the rice for me while I get changed, then,” Yamada instructed. “It’s got a delay timer.” He disappeared down the hall.

After a few minutes, Aizawa stood and stretched as best he could with his arms partially immobilized.

Clad only in a pair of gi pants, Yamada returned. Izuku swallowed. The man was firm and toned in ways that made Izuku’s heart skitter. He reminded himself that this was his teacher, a – in any way that counted – married man.

“Alright, follow me,” Aizawa said.

Yamada moved over to him and carefully removed the vocally protesting cat from its favorite napping spot. “I know kitten, papa’s so mean.”

Izuku was still staring at the lean, wiry man beside him as Aizawa walked into the workout room. It was hard to believe that under all that leather he had a dancer’s body. Yamada was all long, lean lines and firm, sculpted muscle. There was a long thin scar over his right pec that begged to be licked, and a little starburst burn scar near his hip that wanted for a gentle kiss.

Izuku stumbled forward as Yamada gave him a gentle tug. “He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Nodding and blushing furiously, Izuku followed Aizawa to the first door in the hall. The room as a bit bigger but not by much, there were a few pieces of wall-mounted exercise equipment but mostly it was empty. “You used a bo staff in the entrance exam, we’ll start there.” He sat on a bench to one side.

Yamada tossed Izuku a staff, and the boy slipped into a fighting stance automatically.

“Good,” Aizawa commented.

Izuku could feel it each time Yamada kicked it up a notch. He hit harder, moved faster, and integrated more moves into his assaults. Izuku could practically count the months of training based on what he threw at him.

Soon Izuku was giving it his all. He pulled out the last combination Kurogiri had taught him. After delivering a thrust to get distance, he assessed his opponent. Yamada surged forward with a downward strike. Izuku blocked bringing his staff up, then he swept it to the side and followed through with a kick as Yamada attempted an underhand strike to disarm him.

“That’s enough,” Aizawa snapped as Izuku returned to his preferred stance.

“Is something the matter?” he asked slipping into a relaxed posture.

“No,” Aizawa replied, quieter. “Your technique just reminds me of someone I lost when I was young.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

Yamada collected the staff from Izuku, with a wistful smile. “But that’s a good thing. Really. We’ll get you a collapsible staff. You’re good enough with that to focus on it if you wanted to.”

Izuku nodded. “But I still want to try out other things, even if I end up using it as my main weapon.”

“Okay,” Aizawa said. “First, the manriki-gusari.”

A simple twelve-inch chain with weights at each end was produced. Yamada explained, “A versatile weapon used for throwing, whipping, or strangulation. And for our purposes as a restraint. Learning to use this effectively will help you with improvised weapons as well. Everything pulls double duty for a ninja.” He also retrieved several types of darts, throwing knives, kunai, throwing spikes, and shuriken.

“By the time I’m done with you people will believe that you’re quirk is accuracy,” Aizawa said in a tone that should not have been menacing, but coming from him was.

They had Izuku alternate between throwing and working with the manriki-gusari. Izuku collected a few bruises learning to use his body as the axis for the chain whip. Conversely, he took to grappling with it like a fish to water.

Finally, Yamada dragged them to the table. “Gah, I’m going to need another shower. I’m all sweaty and gross.”

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous and you know it,” Aizawa said. “Almost as pretty as Extra.”

Yamada pouted at that as he set the table. “It’s just curry tonight, I hope you don’t mind.”

Izuku gave him a thumbs up.

“That fast?” Aizawa asked.

Izuku nodded. He signed, “Fast as the adrenaline goes away.” Yamada translated when Izuku’s limited vocabulary got in the way. “Six hundred calories should cover all of this.”

“And you’ll be healed in how long?”

“Let him eat, then he can just tell you,” Yamada scolded.

“Fine.” Aizawa huffed.

Izuku ate about half of his food before giving an experimental hum. “That’s better. To answer your question, an hour at most for this. Three and a half for the worst bruises. I heal in about one percent of the standard time. I have to watch for swelling as it can complicate things.” He shrugged.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Huh?”

“I want to see the bruises.”

“Oh, sure.” Izuku pulled the kiwi colored t-shirt off. “I was overdressed anyway,” he joked, both because Yamada was still shirtless and his shirt said ‘Dress Shirt.’

Small circular bruises were already starting to form. Yamada could see the minute shift in color as it healed. Blotchy pink darkened to red, then blueish purple before fading in to a pale green, then yellow, and finally it was gone. Izuku was right, the whole process took less than an hour. They had finished their meal; Yamada had gotten cleaned up and offered to drive Izuku home on his way to his radio gig.

“Yeah, thanks, that’d be great.”

 

Izuku could hear Sensei’s inquiring tone as he made his way to the bathroom to change. Kurogiri called to him from beside the TV. “Ah, never mind all that tonight, Stray-kun, we’re staying in.”

“What did Sensei want?” he asked coming to stand next to Kurogiri.

“He was just wondering why I let you use my card when you have your own money.”

“I do get an allowance, but not enough to cover… Oh, sorry. I guess we did go overboard. I can pay you back but it’ll ta–”

Kurogiri silenced his apologetic rambling with a kiss. “I should have asked first.”

After a stunned pause, Izuku murmured, “I could be persuaded to forgive you.”

“I certainly hope so,” he said with a mischievous look. “He meant your own money that he pays you.”

“I’m sor – come again?”

“Sensei pays you; for protecting Tomura.” Kurogiri chuckled. “Did you think you were working for free?”

Izuku nodded. “Well, you are training me and Sensei gave me my quirks, so I guess I thought it was in exchange for that, really.”

“Well if you ever need it, you have… let’s see… seventy-five thousand yen a day, you only take Sundays off,  a million yen bonus for All Might. So thirteen million yen, give or take.” Kurogiri counted out on his fingers. “I know it’s not mu–”

 “Wow,” Izuku said. “Is, is it clean, could I put it away for university?”

“Hang on,” Tomura rasped. “Did-did you seriously go up against All Might not knowing you’d be paid?”

“Um, yes?”

“Are you deranged?” Tomura asked.

“Am not. I have two quirks. Know how many I had before I met you?”

“One,” Tomura said cheekily.

Izuku pointed at him, made a frustrated face, and dropped his hand. “That is technically correct, but still, you get my point, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re grateful to Sensei.”

“Not just him,” Izuku responded, placing a hand on Tomura’s shoulder.

“Goodie,” he replied. “Don’t you have places to be?”

“No?”

“Actually, yes.” Kurogiri grabbed Izuku and pulled him downstairs. When they reached the living room Kurogiri’s enthusiasm waned. His steps slowed. He hesitated as he opened the door. “I’m sorry if you wanted to do this together. I’m so excited about you I have a hard time waiting,” Kurogiri said as Izuku took in the changes to the… to their room.

“No, it’s fine. It’s perfect actually. I think I would have been too shy to take up such prominent placement.”

The braided jute rug was placed as a runner in between the bed and the window. The Might Tower shag pile rug was in the sitting area. The fuzzy star-shaped pillow, which lit up, was on the armchair, while the reversible sequin one (green with yellow a hanko one way and blue with a red Might Tower inkan the other) was on the wood chair, and the S’more pillow set was on the bed, the extra squashy marshmallow turned inside out to its toasted form.

The dim sum nightlights were on the dresser; as was the jewelry tree. The jellyfish alarm clock sat on the far – Izuku’s – nightstand, along with the Endeavor-themed book light. The tray was set on the footstool with a drink and the book Kurogiri was reading. The flags were hung at the head of the bed. The curtains – red, white, and blue striped with stars, and not actually All Might themed – were hanging up with the gauzy white ones Kurogiri normally used.

The art prints – a set of three charcoal drawings featuring the hands of pro heroes – were hung up in place of the usual paintings. Gemcutter’s print featured the backs of both fists. Centipeder’s had one hand with his glove on and the other off. Gang Orca’s print had one hand in a fist and the other in a loose claw.

The only thing he didn’t see was the cloud vases. Izuku decided to let it go as he had gotten a lot of stuff. The room was still fairly minimalist but it seemed lived in now. It made Izuku happy.

 “I shouldn’t have been surprised that you chose such tactile pieces.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take your shirt off.” Izuku did. It was much less awkward than with Aizawa and Yamada even though they only wanted to observe his quirk. “Now lie down. No, on the rug, love.” Izuku moved the footstool so he had room. “How does that feel?”

“Nice. It’s soft and fluffy.” He ran his fingers and shadow over the rug.

“You are gorgeous. Would you let me take some pictures of you?” Kurogiri asked.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Izuku sat up.

“Love, if I get caught some pictures of you are hardly the worst thing I’ve done,” he reassured him. “But if you’re uncomfortable just say so.”

“Would you lay here with me instead?”

“Of course.” Kurogiri settled down beside him and began running his fingers over Izuku’s chest, down his sides, and over the rug. “Everything you picked out today is a delight to touch. Just like you.”

Izuku laughed. “So corny.”

“But at least you like it.”

“I love it.”

“I love you, too.”

Chapter 26: Training

Jiro sat in the chair in front of Ryo’s desk during lunch on Monday. She looked nervous as he picked at her food. Lunch Rush had outdone himself with the honey-lime blackened salmon. The garlic sautéed asparagus and mushrooms served as a side dish were rich and buttery. Ryo enjoyed his meal while he waited for her to talk.

“Um. You can’t, like repeat what I say to anyone, right?”

“I’m a licensed therapist, and our sessions are confidential. I am a mandated reporter, and that means I have to inform law enforcement or the Child Guidance Office if you are being abused, or are a danger to yourself or others. Beyond that, I have a legal obligation to not repeat what you tell me.”

“Okay. Good. Mom and Dad would pull me out of Yuuei if they knew.”

He waited for her to continue, but she took a bite of her sandwich instead. Ryo smiled and returned to his own meal, to not rush her. After taking a sip of her soda, Jiro seemed to consider her words, and then lose her nerve. She dug into her fruit parfait. With a soft hum, Ryo opened the radio app on his phone. “Do you mind if we listen to some music? It helps me digest.”

She was surprised by the mix of v-kie, glam rock, and punk. “You have good taste.”

“Luna Sea is my jam,” he agreed, bobbing along with the song.

Finally, Jiro said, “Nothing happened, but… they did, the one that got shot and the electric guy, threatened to, um, to rape me.”

Ryo let a serious expression cross his face. “You are alright. You’re safe now.”

“He said if I struggled they’d do it to Momo and Denki too.” She didn’t cry, but she was trembling. “Nothing happened. Why, why do I feel so…”

“It’s normal,” Ryo reassured her. “What happened wasn’t nothing. You were attacked and threatened.”

She looked down, ashamed. “I was going to fight back.”

“Good. Whether consciously or not, you knew they were lying. You did the right thing.”

Now she did burst into tears.

Ryo reached across the desk and patted her shoulders comfortingly. “It’s okay. It’s okay to cry, to be scared. You made it out, you’re safe. It took a lot of courage to tell me about this. And I want you to know that none of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything to deserve this. None of you did. This shouldn’t have happened to you. We care about you and we’re here to listen or help in any way we can. I’m available whenever you need me. So are Aizawa and Kayama if you feel more comfortable talking to either of them. They’re both certified councilors, as is Recovery Girl.” He continued to murmur reassurances until her tears were dry.

“I was so scared.”

“It was scary, but you fought bravely and you made it out. It’ll be okay.”

“How can I be a hero if I can’t even protect myself?”

“You are a student. You do have a lot to learn, and we will teach you. In the meantime, Yuuei does offer a self-defense course to all its students. It meets on Wednesdays after school and is run by Mitsuno-san.”

“I don’t think I’ve met them.”

“Probably not, he teaches home economics and health. You’ll start taking them next semester.”

“Oh. Um, is he nice?”

“Hmm. That’s an interesting question. He’d describe himself as professional. He can be a little brisk, but he’s warmer than Aizawa.”

“Okay.”

               

After school, most of classes 1-A and 1-C were at Dagobah Municipal Beach Park. It was just warm enough for the salt air to be pleasantly cool. Izuku thought about Kurogiri’s assessment that he had a tactile fixation as he dug his toes into the warm sand. He smoothed down the front of his old and faded ‘Cut and Sew’ t-shirt. Then he ran his fingers over the leather cover of his notebook.

“Oh! That’s a nice model,” Mei said. “Were you thinking about adding one to your hero gear?”

“Yeah, or at least some way to take notes.”

As the pair sat there discussing the options for Izuku’s future hero costume they each gazed out over the beach. Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima were running drills in the sand. Iida was collecting smaller debris to fill a microwave with and carry up the stairs. Yaoyorozu was dragging a stove over to the stairs, while Uraraka and Asui debated the merits of using their respective quirks to speed things along.

Izuku spotted some odd behavior at the edge of the area they were working on. Two guys had been headed toward the water and were now standing as if talking to someone. He tapped Mei’s shoulder and pointed at the pair. “Are they talking to Toru?”

Mei peered down the beach. “Yeah, why?”

“I just wanna keep an eye out. She’s a ways off from the group.”

“I’m sure it’s –” Mei cut off and grabbed Izuku’s arm. “They pulled her strap down.”

Izuku took off down the beach, several of their peers abandoning their workout to follow him. They all sprinted neatly, only kicking up a little sand.

“Damn, how is he that fast?” Kaminari asked to the space where Aki had been; a faint red sparkle drifting to the sand in her place.

Soon Toru, holding her top in place, was backed by a half dozen members of classes 1-A and 1-C.

“Are they bothering you?” Todoroki asked stopping beside her, a sudden chill nipping at the air around him. The left strap of her top was ripped.

“Oh, uh they’re just fans. They saw me on the news,” she replied shakily.

“Let me help you with your top,” Aki said. She took a yellow ribbon out of her hair and turned the top into a halter. “Now you’re even cuter.”

The two young men laughed. “You Yuuei students think you’re so much better than everyone else,” one of them growled.

“Yeah, we don’t need the likes of you around here, we can take care of this beach ourselves.”

“Oh!” Izuku had a sudden realization. “That’s where I recognize you from!” he turned and shouted, “Oi! Bakugo! It’s your tagalongs’ older brothers.” He turned back to the pair. “You remember Bakugo, right?”

One of the boys blanched and started to drag the other away.

“Oh, you do remember him,” Izuku said letting them go. “He cleared most of this beach, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Toru said quietly.

“What was that about?” Bakugo asked as he made it to the small group. “Why’re you calling me ‘Bakugo’?”

“Some guys were harassing Toru,” Aki filled him in. “Your reputation was enough to…” she trailed off as he took a picture of their retreating forms and then Toru’s repaired top.

“I’m not the one those chicken shits are afraid of,” he said forwarding the pictures.

“Then who?”

“His mother!” Izuku informed them cheerfully.

“The old hag can nag like nobody’s business, and those two won’t sit right for a month after their parents get an earful from her,” Bakugo said, almost proudly. “Let’s see if Ponytail will make you a new top, okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

The splinter group rejoined the main hub. Iida lectured Aki about using her quirk in public after which she pulled Yaoyorozu and Toru into the nearby public bathrooms.

When they came out Toru was wearing a ruffled yellow halter-top and high-waisted bikini bottoms. She gave Izuku a peck on the cheek and told him, “Thank you for the rescue.”

He blushed and stammered. “It was mostly Kacchan and the-the group. And Mei spotted you.” Mei looked at Izuku in mild surprise but he just added, “Her quirk is amazing.”

Iida turned to them. “Don’t sell yourself short, Midoriya. Remember your contributions to the group effort are just as valuable as anyone else’s.” When most of the gathered students stared at him blankly Iida sighed and said, “How did Inui-sensei put it? Ah, yes.” He brought his fist down on his palm sharply. Iida raised his voice and his pitch and asked, “What works?”

“What?” came a dull smattering of replies.

“Teamwork!”

Most of the group laughed at that and it was picked up as a brief chant to lighten the mood further.

Izuku lifted Toru on one shoulder. “Alright! Grab a piece of trash – not Kacchan! He’s mine – run it to the stairs and pass it to your partner. They’ll get it up the stairs, put it in the truck, and come back down. The team that moves the most trash in ten minutes gets to buy drinks!”

“Why should the winners pay for drinks?” Kaminari asked.

Izuku set Toru down on the wide stone railing. “Because most of you couldn’t afford twenty iced coffees, but Kacchan and I can.” He grinned cheekily as the stealth smack talk sank in.

“Hey!” Kaminari grabbed Aki around the shoulders. “We can totally beat you. You didn’t see how fast Hoshi-chan was.”

“She can keep up with me,” Izuku nodded, “using her quirk.”

“Which isn’t allowed in the relay,” Bakugo told him. He turned to Izuku. “So you’ll be tackling the stairs.”

Shinso handed Toru a bright yellow bandana. “There are no countdowns in real life,” he said softly.

Toru stood up waiving the bandana. “Ready, set, go!”

Bakugo dashed down the beach to find a piece of trash. Kaminari was seconds behind him, and the rest of the participants shouted with outrage as they scurried after.

The spectators laughed at their scramble. Bakugo came back with a toaster, seconds before Sero came with a blender base. Izuku took the toaster under one arm and sprung over the rail and up the wall. He sprinted to the truck, carelessly tossed the toaster, and ran back. When he reached the upper rail, Izuku leaped over the stairs and landed with a spray of sand.

Mei and Yaoyorozu clapped at his antics, while Toru and Ashido, who had joined her on the rail, wolf-whistled at him. The next round had many more competitors cutting corners on the stairs.  Ojiro and Asuka were both able to match Izuku’s impressive leaps with ease.

Just as the ten minutes was up they heard a familiar, if muffled, voice call from the top of the stairs, “I thought I restricted your training to an hour a day?”

Izuku grabbed the rusty can from Bakugo and bounded up the stairs like a cartoon kangaroo. “You allowed free running!”

“I also said you were on thin ice,” Aizawa reminded him.

“It’s a relay,” Izuku said on the way back.

Just as he landed in the sand again, Toru called, “Time’s up! Pay the lady! She would like an Italian soda.”

After walking back up the stairs Izuku flipped his notebook open. He sat on the upper railing facing the ocean. “So who wants what?”

Aizawa refrained from organizing the students even after half of them shouted their orders at Izuku from the ground. Several of them were complicated, but Izuku proceeded to jot down a list and ask for clarification once or twice. When Izuku finished collecting orders, and convincing the rich kids to buy them a picnic instead of pitching in for the drinks, he turned to Aizawa.

“Is there something you need, Aizawa-sensei?”

“A black coffee.”

Izuku chuckled but moved to put it on the list.

“Kidding.” He shook his head. “Anyway, whose truck is this?”

“Yagi-san rented it,” Bakugo said approaching them. “He’s gonna pick it up at seven; said he didn’t wanna intrude.”

“So this is going to be a regular thing?”

“As much as we can,” Izuku said. “Everyone’s availability is different.”

“Iida needs to develop better maneuverability.  I want you to teach him some parkour,” Aizawa said.

“I thought I was on thin ice.”

“Don’t fall in,” he said as he turned to leave.

“I can swim,” Izuku called back.

Aizawa turned to raise an eyebrow at him, seemed to realize the effect was lost in his current state, and rejoined Yamada and Kayama as they headed toward a nearby restaurant.

 

Shota slumped in his chair as soon as Nemuri excused herself to the restroom. “Zashi?”

“Hmm?” he asked not looking up from the menu.

“What color is Midoriya’s hair?”

“Green,” came the distracted reply.

“And his eyes?” he pressed on.

“Also green. Why?”

“It’s stupid.” He rested his chin on his bandaged arms.

Hizashi looked at him. “Yeah, but I love you anyway. Spill.”

“He looks like Stray,” he confessed.

Hizashi blinked at his husband. “I don’t see it.”

“That’s because black and green are two different things to you.”

Hizashi hummed. “I mean you were the only one that got up close to him, but don’t they have way different builds?”

“Body armor and lifts.”

“I suppose,” Hizashi admitted, “but the ears.”

“Prosthetic.”

“Quirks,” he said as if it were a gotcha.

“Nomu had multiple quirks,” he replied in a fatalistic tone.

Hizashi whispered, “Sho,” softly, almost disappointed.

“I know. They can’t be the same person. Midoriya was in class during the incident.” He paused. “They’ve had similar training, though.”

“Street fighting?”

“Nah, it’s more than that. It’s a good foundation to build on. A fluid mix of compatible styles.” He shifted uncomfortably and then sat up. “There’s something about it, I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“Well, yeah, you saw him in action for what? Fifteen seconds? It’s not enough time to assess him properly.”

“You’re right. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.” He sighed and leaned his head back.

“Let me get your eye drops.”

 

Izuku returned to the beach after his mother went to bed. Yagi showed up not long after. The pair had agreed to train for an hour or so each day to help Izuku get the hang of One for All. Izuku started with a full warm-up. Then he activated One for All.

A crackle of erratic green energy pulsed around him. Izuku could already feel the strain. He held it for thirty seconds before letting it go. Izuku’s heart thudded in his chest. The familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through him. He panted, short of breath. It was an effort not to crumple to his knees.

The energy was so different from what he was used to and it made his bones ache. As he regulated his breathing and began tensing and relaxing his muscles, he felt his healing quirk thrum through his body. Thankfully, he had thought to bring a bunch of snacks. He didn’t need them yet but the strain was bound to cause an injury sooner or later.

“Are you alright?” Yagi asked nervously.

“Your quirk is so erratic. How do you control it?” Izuku asked.

Yagi stared at him for a moment. “Well,” he started sheepishly, running his hand through his hair, “I just clench my muscles and yell ‘Smash’ from the depths of my soul.” He hunched his shoulders and ruffled his hair with both hands. “Gah. I’m no good at this.”

Izuku activated One for All again. He tensed his body experimentally. The energy seemed to flow to his extremities. Facing the ocean, he threw a straight punch. The energy rippled down his arm. Izuku could feel the stress fractures forming. The skin bruised instantly, in a brilliant red mottled with purple. The erratic energy fizzled out around him.

“It’s going to be difficult to integrate this with my quirk,” Izuku panted. “The healing doesn’t kick on until the adrenaline dies down but this keeps it pumping the whole time I’m using it.”

“I never had that problem,” Yagi confessed.

“Good,” Izuku replied. “That means it’s something I can train out of and not a function of the quirk.” He plopped down next to his bag and dug out a protein bar. “Let me know when you get tired because I won’t. I typically stay up until four.”

“I just realized how useless I am to you.” Yagi sat on the other side of the green backpack.

Izuku turned an intense glare at him. “Don’t ever call yourself that. I knocked some sense into Kacchan, don’t think I won’t do the same for you.” He stuffed the empty wrapper into a different pocket. “Besides, you are the only one that has the information I need to master this. It doesn’t matter that neither of us knows the questions I should be asking. We’ll figure it out.”

Holding up his injured arm, Izuku flexed as he pulled up One for All. The erratic energy flowed into the limb; it’s whirring a strange counterpoint to the rhythmic thrum of Izuku’s healing quirk. He focused on keeping his breathing steady. His heartbeat eventually fell into a steady rhythm. For a moment, the two energies seemed to sink up.

The sensation was overwhelming; like feeling the THX sound effect in his bones. Izuku blinked back to awareness. Yagi was crouched over him, fingers on his pulse point, as Izuku lay in the sand.

“That was… intense.” He gently pushed Yagi’s fingers away. Izuku could still feel the energy ebbing away. His skin tingled.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Izuku said. “It’s okay. Now, walk me through a punch one step at a time.” He sat up on his elbows to look at Yagi.

Yagi shifted into a fighting stance. “First you plant your feet. Then you make a fist. Put your hands up to shield your face.” He demonstrated each step as he said it. “Strike fast; always aim behind your target for maximum force. Pull back to your guard position and repeat as needed.”

“Wait, when do you activate One for All?”

“Uh, when I’m running around as All Might it’s always on.”

“How do you keep it from discharging then?”

“Dis… charging? It’s a transformation-type quirk. It might have aspects that work like an emitter type but it’s fundamentally transformative.”

“Okay. That should help. I’ve been thinking about it wrong.” Izuku activated One for All. He let the energy wash over him. It still made his bones ache, but he held it as he lay in the sand. Thirty seconds. Forty-five. A full minute. With a tired grunt, he let the energy dissipate. “What does it feel like to you?”

Yagi thought for a moment. He pulled up the remnants of All for One inside him. He shifted into a fighting stance. Then balled up his fists and adopted a typical boxer’s pose. The strike and return were so fast that if not for the blast of air pressure he sent out over the ocean Izuku would have thought he hadn’t moved.

“It feels normal when I use it and empty when I don’t. I’m sorry that’s not helpful.”

Izuku digested the information. “I guess you did spend most of your time in that form. Maybe only shutting it off to sleep.” He stood up and began tracing his fingers over All Might’s bicep. “But it’s not useless information. Empty without it means full with it. I feel like the energy is surrounding me. Like it’s squeezing my arms like a toothpaste tube.”

Izuku activated One for All. He let the energy wash over him. He tensed his body and the energy seemed to flow to his extremities again. He took a few seconds to imagine it distributed evenly over his body. It still made his bones ache, but he felt like he could hold it like this. The energy rippled down his arm as he threw another punch out over the water. The erratic energy fizzled around him as his skin bloomed in mottled purple. He held on to it through the pain and constricting sensation.

“I’ll have to keep at that,” Izuku said panting. “Jog with me. I do better when I’m moving around.”

“Are you sure?” All Might asked.

Izuku nodded. He gritted his teeth and tried to pull his grimace into a smile. “I need practice. I should do that with a spotter, or Aizawa-sensei will kill me.”

“Fair enough. You set the pace and I’ll try to keep up.”

Izuku turned and started down the beach. His muscles were already on fire. All Might stayed with him until Izuku called it a night, much earlier than he had originally planned. 

 

Izuku slumped into Kurogiri's arms, instead of heading to the bathroom to change. “Ow, my everything.” He turned to the karaoke machine. “Hey, Sensei?”

There was a long moment of silence before Sensei’s low smooth voice responded, “Yes, Stray-kun?”

“What type of quirk is One for All?”

“I never could analyze it carefully. It has always boosted the weak quirks of its wielders. Therefore, it could take on the properties of the quirk it is boosting. It could be an emitter type, pushing more raw power into them. It could be a transformation type, changing the existing quirk and user into something else, but the effects would be minimal. It is in and of itself a mutation, but it lacks any traits that would put it in this category, as far as I am aware.” He paused. “Neither Stockpile nor my brother’s quirk were emitter types if that helps. They weren’t anything, as neither of them did anything on their own.”

Izuku made himself more comfortable in Kurogiri’s arms as Sensei spoke. He considered the information carefully. “So it could be that its type is dependent on its function. If I use it to boost my healing it’s a mutation. If I use it to boost Shadow Bind, it’s an emitter. And if I could use it like All Might, to increase my mass, I guess, it’s a transformation type. So either no type or all types.” Izuku paused. “That really isn’t helpful.”

“Perhaps. However, this is even less so: the types are all made up because humans love to classify things. Merely having a quirk is a mutation. They all use, and therefore produce the same form of energy. And that energy makes changes to the body when it is used.”

“Your unique perspective on the classification of quirks is fascinating and all, but I need help learning to use One for All.”

“Its past wielder didn’t have any advice for you.”

“He could only get me so far,” Izuku grumbled. “He took to it on instinct. So, getting anything useful out of him is like solving a puzzle in Myst. I was hoping you could act as a walk-through.”

“My apologies. While I am responsible for the creation of that parasite I’ve had little opportunity to study it.”

“It’s all good,” Izuku said. “I’m gonna nap here. Maybe do a few more exercises when I wake up.”

“Actually,” Sensei said, “Kurogiri, bring him over after he’s slept. Perhaps the issue is not addressing his full suite of quirks.”

Izuku perked up at this. “We could do it now if you’re not busy. No sense in keeping you waiting.”

Kurogiri waited only for Sensei's brief, “Perfect,” before warping them over. To Izuku’s surprise, he included Tomura who had been sipping a whisky sour with lime and looking even more disinterested in existence than usual.

Sensei was in a comfortable-looking wheelchair with an oxygen mask over his mouth. At Izuku’s concerned look, he said, “Some days are better than others, and today is looking up.”

Tomura pushed the wheelchair dutifully, leading them to a large freight elevator. They went up two levels to arrive at the ground floor of an empty factory. There was a pile of boxes against the far wall, shelves of parts along one long wall, and bay doors on the other. The seemingly smooth sealed concrete was riddled with tiny cracks and air bubbles. The air was cool and every sound had a slight echo.

“Now, what did you glean from All Might?”

Izuku explained what little he knew, or rather suspected. Then he activated All for One, shifted into a fighting stance, and brought his fists up. The erratic, green energy crackled around him. Izuku held it for a full minute before letting it dissipate.

“I can see why you would have trouble with that,” Sensei said. “It looks like a particularly poorly constructed Nomu.”

Izuku turned and gave him a curious look. Sensei was leaning to one side, his elbow on the armrest. His chin was resting in his hand, index finger extended against his cheek.

“Try activating Shadow Bind at the same time.”

After reactivating All for One, Izuku sent his shadow forward. Green energy crackled around it. It raced forward at startling speed and stretched all the way across the factory floor.

“Grab one of those boxes and bring it here,” Sensei instructed. “Don’t break it.”

Izuku did as he was told. His shadow coiled around the rough wood of the crate. He knew it was heavy, but it felt like lifting a carton of eggs. Izuku shifted his shadow around before he carefully brought the crate over to them.

“Very good. What were you thinking about as you did that?”

“The box,” he answered honestly. Izuku wondered where he was going with this.

“If All Might mastered the parasite on instinct, then it stands to reason that your issue is overthinking. Perhaps the key is not thinking about using it, and just letting it be active.”

Izuku cocked his head as he digested this information. “That won’t be easy.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Sensei said. “For now try thinking about it inhabiting you. I want you to move these boxes back and forth, two at a time, until you’re exhausted.”

“Two? Oh, you mean to carry one and use Shadow Bind on another.” Izuku nodded.

“Kurogiri, make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. Tomura and I will be downstairs if anything comes up.”

 

Izuku was still damp from his shower when he entered the apartment. There was a rustling from the kitchen. His mother was already awake. Izuku stepped with the fourth toe first, then the middle, and smoothly rolled down to the heel. His steps were silent, his breath slow and steady. After four steps, he fell into the rhythm and moved only when his mother was moving. His presence was completely masked.

Inko was moving between the fridge, cutting board, and stove. The rice cooker was puttering away, there were two fish filets grilling, and enough chopped vegetables to feed them for the whole day. Inko hummed a little as she worked. When the fish came off, eggs for rolled omelets went in.

It was jarring when Inko turned around suddenly and let out a tiny shriek. Izuku flinched and dropped the bento box he was carrying from Kurogiri. It stayed shut, thankfully.

“Oh, Izuku you startled me!”

“Sorry,” he stammered. “I was just coming in from my run, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Inko frowned. “I know things have changed for you, sweetie. I know you’re growing up and,” her eyes flicked to the bento box, “you don’t need me anymore, but I’m still your mother, and I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

The pit of Izuku’s stomach dropped. He stuttered and floundered for words before stopping. “Sorry,” he repeated picking up his bento. “But you’re wrong. I do need you. You’re my mom.”

“I’ve just been thinking about what you said the other day. I want to try to make more of an effort. I got up early to fix breakfast, but then I saw you were gone already and the package that I put in your room was still on your bed. I have to admit that you haven’t been sleeping here for a while now. You get lunches from your gym. I couldn’t begin to help you with your homework if you needed it and… and I want to be here for you. I really do, baby, but I just don’t know how.”

“I… okay, yeah, I go to the gym at night. I just get so bored being up, and I know you need your sleep, like any normal person.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Kuu-kun makes food for everybody, and then packs the leftovers for us to take as lunches, but I don’t have to take one if you’d like to make me something.”

“Should you really be taking advantage of his kindness like that? I mean they already let you train there for free.”

“Well, I do help out. You know, cleaning, I help with the cooking thanks to you, sparing with the paying customers. It’s not much, but they’re not losing any money on me.” It was harder to lie to his mother, especially when he had just been called out on it, but it was necessary. “I could start doing my homework after you go to bed if you wanna spend more time together.”

“Sweetie, that’s not the issue; not that I don’t love spending time with you. It’s just… I know you don’t sleep much but would you do it here at least?”

“Sure, I’m sorry. I didn’t think anything of it. I just usually doze on the train.”

“It’s okay. I was worried you were sleeping at the gym.”

“Of course not. When I’m there, there’s always something to do. Sweep, mop, dust, the cooking, working out, sparing, drills.”

“Maybe… maybe we could work out a bit together.”

Izuku let a wide bright smile spread across his face. “That would be great! We could do some stretches in the mornings and a cool-down routine before bed!”

“Alright. You get ready and I’ll finish breakfast and we can do that before you have to leave.”

Izuku’s heart thudded in his chest as he carefully closed his door. He changed into a pair of sweats designed like the pants from All Might’s silver age costume and a t-shirt that said ‘Sweatshirt’.  He grabbed the box that Inko had set on his bed and took it into the kitchen.

His mother was plating up breakfast. “I suppose we should discuss you being out all night. I don’t like it, but at least you’re not wandering the streets. From now on, I want you to let me know when you’re going, where you’re going, and when you’ll be back. Even if you keep the same schedule all the time I want you to tell me, okay?”

“Okay, mom,” Izuku replied with a soft smile.

“Now, you are grounded for a week, for lying to me,” Inko said sternly. When she turned around to put the plates on the table, her expression softened. “But that can wait until after the sports festival. I know how important it is.”  She sat down before asking, “Okay, what’s in the box?”

“Reusable drink pouches and a shelf-stable jelly drink mix. The starter box comes in three flavors: grape, Muscat, and peach. But I also ordered melon, lychee, and apple.” He pried open the box and pulled out the instructions. Despite knowing he could make everything in the box, he let his face fall as he glanced over them. “This sounded a lot easier on the website.”

“Let me take a look,” Inko said, reaching out to him. “I used to help my mom make preserves.”

Izuku handed her the instruction sheet and sat down to enjoy his breakfast. He figured out a twenty-minute stretching routine as he ate and was happy to readjust his schedule to include his mother a little more.

Notes:

I have today off, so you guys get an extra chapter. If you're looking for action, the sports festival is coming up in a few chapters (28), but until then we've got more of a training arc going on.

Chapter 27: Strengthening Bonds

The park was painted bright yellow, orange, green, and purple. There was a brontosaurus made of cement pillars for climbing; the back was four feet high and the head was just over six. The other playground equipment was likewise dinosaur-themed; either shaped like one or having a dino-related motif.

“First, we’ll teach you how to fall,” Izuku said.

“Isn’t the point of parkour not to fall?” Iida asked.

Izuku shook his head. “Not to sound philosophical but you will always fall. The point is not to get hurt when you do. Which is why we’re here; the sand will absorb some of the impact when you fall.” Izuku gestured to the ground. “Step one: rolling. Start with one shoulder and roll across to the opposite hip.” Izuku demonstrated by going into a full squat, leaning forward with his hands to one side of his head, and tucking his chin. His knees were tucked in tight and he rolled into a ball. Popping up onto his feet, Izuku said, “We’ll practice that for a while, then you’ll do it from a standing position. Give me five on the left shoulder and five on the right.”

Izuku made corrections as Iida did the drills set out for him. Soon the larger boy was performing the roll flawlessly and Izuku moved him on to standing, first with one foot extended then his feet properly parallel. Next, Izuku taught him some simple variations; the side roll, backward roll, and diving roll.

They moved on to the safety tap. Izuku hopped down from a low concrete wall painted with spotted eggs and dinosaur footprints. Landing on the balls of his feet, he kept his knees bent slightly. “Keep your feet about shoulder-width apart, and don’t bend your knees too much. Keep them behind your toes. A little forward is okay, just make sure they’re pointing in the same direction as your toes. Use your hands to push off the ground and keep running. It’s all about turning dangerous downward energy into harmless forward momentum.”

Izuku taught him the four-point landing and the cat leap – leaping with your hands and feet in front of you, grabbing the top of the obstacle, while using your legs to absorb the impact – before they parted ways for the day.

“I’m not sure how this will improve my maneuverability, but thank you.”

“You have to crawl before you can walk and walk before you run,” Izuku replied. “I’ll show you some vaults tomorrow.”

 

“Looking forward to the Sports Festival?” Ryo greeted brightly as the boy entered his office.

Todoroki had a slight scowl and didn’t reply right away as he sat down in one of the armchairs. “What exactly are we supposed to accomplish here?”

“Well, you’re worried about anger management, and I’m worried about quirk counseling.” Ryo sat across from him on the couch, bringing his grilled cheese with apple slices.

“I’ve had quirk counseling. I can control my quirk just fine.” Todoroki sat cross-legged in the chair, his bowl of soba balanced on his knee.

“That’s a good start,” Ryo replied. “I’ve got some exercises I want you to do. Journaling for both. On the anger management front, I want you to write about the things that make you angry and how you respond. Okay?” he waited for Todoroki to nod. “And for your quirk, I want you to use it a little each day, and write about how it feels. What feels different about the two sides? What feels the same? And your thoughts and feelings on the matter.”

“Fine.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”

“My old man was upset that I had to be saved by Hagakure.”

“Saved? I thought the two of you worked as a team.”

“He doesn’t seem to think so.”

“What do you think?”

Todoroki sat up straight, moving his food to the coffee table as he put his legs down. “What works?”

“Teamwork!” Ryo replied with a sly smile. “You know, I could – with your permission – pass it along to Aizawa that comments Endeavor has made at home have made you question Yuuei’s focus on teamwork.”

“My permission?”

“If you don’t agree, I won’t say anything. You are under no obligation, and I don’t want you to feel pressured. It’s not consent if you’re bullied into it.”

“Why would Aizawa care?”

“Hearing that a top hero, and Yuuei alum, is discounting the value of teamwork in the field is disquieting, to say the least. A lack of cooperation and coordination in the field gets people killed, and Yuuei sends students to his agency for internships and work studies. If he has a negative view of one of the pillars of heroics, we may need to reconsider that.”

“Yuuei would stop sending students to him just for one comment?”

“Not one comment,” Ryo assured him, “a point of view. Naturally, we would talk to him, even offer to have him come in and give a lecture on the value of teamwork.”

“I don’t want him in my class.”

“We would naturally limit it to the third years. ‘He’s a busy man’ makes a believable excuse, but first years are too impressionable if we’re at all unsure of his stance.”

“Naturally,” Todoroki replied slowly. He seemed to mull it over before agreeing. “I wouldn’t mind if you told Aizawa.”

 

Izuku packed four of the homemade jelly drink pouches into his backpack. “Mom, I’m headed out! I’m going for a run, then to the gym. I should be back by five. I’ll text you when I get there!”

“Okay, sweetheart!”

He rushed out the door and down the stairs. His bag, even filled with sandbags for weight, felt like nothing on his back. The jog to the beach was made shorter by going as the crow flies. Yagi was already waiting for him. “Hey!”

“Midoriya, my boy!”

“I think I know something that will help.”

“Straight down to business, then,” he said with a chuckle.  

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“No, no it’s fine. Your enthusiasm is inspiring,” Yagi reassured him. “What was your idea?”

“Spar with me.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Izuku was already stretching. “Well, we can do warm-ups first. Ease into it. I know I looked rough the last couple of nights, but I think I can handle it a bit better now.”

“Stretches and a run, then a few drills. If you’re still up to it then I guess it’s okay.”

“All right, All Might!”

Yagi covered his mouth as he laughed, a bit of blood trickling between his fingers. The pair stretched and jogged up and down the beach in companionable silence. Then Yagi instructed Izuku to run a few sets of drills.

Puffing up into his All Might form, he said, “It looks like I can’t drag my feet about this any longer. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

As expected, All Might pulled his punches. He did not, however, lower his speed. At least not as far as Izuku could tell. Only through years of dodging Bakugo and months of street fighting was Izuku able to predict the first blow and roll out of the way.

Izuku kipped up, only to be showered in a spray of sand. He predicted All Might’s next move and shot forward. The spot where he had been exploded in another hail of sand. All Might was standing in Izuku’s shadow; the moon just bright enough for it. Izuku had to concentrate to not bind him.

“Nicely done, my boy, but you’ve trapped yourself. No matter which way you go, I’m still fast enough to get you.” Pride filled his voice in place of his usual puffed-up bravado.

Izuku grinned. “Is that what you think?” He sprinted towards the water.

All Might gasped as he surged forward after him. Izuku skimmed the surface sending up a rooster tail behind him. If it weren’t for that splash of water, he would have disappeared into the darkness. All Might gritted his teeth and followed. It was dangerous to head out to sea.

Izuku threw a punch forward, sending the spray out ahead of him and himself upwards. All Might rushed below him, but the timing was off, there was nothing Izuku could do this high up. The spray fell and All Might nearly dove into the water when a blast of air pressure hit him from behind. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, in this form, but it did get his attention.

All Might turned mid-stride and pulled his knees up. He pushed off the water to catch the falling teen. They landed on the beach with no more impact than his earlier punches had had.

“What were you thinking?” All Might shouted as he set Izuku down.

“It’s not that cold, so what if we got wet?”

“Cold? Wet?” All Might deflated and grabbed Izuku’s shoulders. He gave the boy a firm shake. “Do you have any idea how far out we were? How high up that was?”

“At thirty meters a second, for maybe ten sec –”

“Try sixty meters per second! It was roughly a third of my current top speed.” Yagi glared down at him.

Izuku took in that information. “Oh,” he said his face falling into an apologetic expression. “I-I, I’m sorry.” He tried to blink away the forming tears. He could easily swim the three hundred meters he’d estimated without One for All, but six… well, hypothermia was an issue and he hadn’t even looked at the currents past four hundred meters.

Pulling Izuku into a hug Yagi said, “You didn’t know. You have to be careful with that speed. It’s easy to lose track of it. I’m glad you’re trying to be safe, but if you want to go out over the water again we need to plan for that specifically.” He held Izuku for a moment and crushed up against his chest the boy could hear the thundering of his heart.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Izuku said pulling back.

“I know.” Yagi broke out into a wide grin. “That was amazing though. It took me years to figure out how to jump off the water!”

“I didn’t jump,” Izuku admitted. “I used the force of a punch to push me up.”

“You’re so clever.” Yagi beamed. “And look, your arm is barely bruised. Let’s work on a couple of strikes if you’re still up to it.”

Izuku grinned back and gave a sharp nod.

 

Kurogiri sat on the foot of the bed facing Izuku. He pulled one foot into his lap and ran his finger down the top of each toe. “Distal, middle, and proximal phalanges.” He ran his thumb over the muscles in his foot, applying enough pressure that Izuku could feel the shape of each. “Addutor hallucis, flexor hallucis brevis, flexor minimi brevis.” He made Izuku spread, flex, and wiggle his toes. “The first through fifth metatarsal bones,” Kurogiri recited as he ran his finger down the bones in Izuku’s foot.

Izuku put his other foot in Kurogiri’s lap, using it to caress his thigh and crotch.

“Don’t think that you can distract me.”

“Wasn’t really trying to,” Izuku said. “If I wanted you distracted I’d offer to let you tie me up.”

Kurogiri finished the rest of the foot before replying, “That would be distracting.” He had him flex and rotate his ankle before moving on to the other foot. Izuku repeated his own attention as well.

“Fibia, tibia, patella.” Kurogiri ran his fingers up Izuku’s calf and shin. He placed a kiss on his kneecap. “Soleus, gastrocnemius, satorius.” He rubbed each muscle as he named it. “Your tibia is what you fractured fighting Void Step.”

“That’s why I wanted shin guards.”

Kurogiri hummed. “You name them.” His hands slid up Izuku’s leg.

“F-femur. Plantaris, that tickles,” Izuku complained as the back of his knee was caressed. “Semimembranosus, gracillis, biceps femuris, semitendinosus, adductor magnus.” Izuku’s words became breathy as Kurogiri’s hands went higher. “Gluteus maximus, gluteus medius.” He moaned as Kurogiri squeezed his butt. “Kiss me?”

“Jumping ahead a bit aren’t we?”

“Please.”

“Your begging is almost as good as your blushing,” Kurogiri said. He placed a kiss on Izuku’s hip.

“No fair,” Izuku complained. “I meant on the lips.”

“Then you should specify,” Kurogiri chided. He moved on to the other leg. He placed a matching kiss on the other hip without prompting. He moved up the torso next, since Izuku was sitting up. He trailed kisses down his spine. Hands and arms were next. Finally, his head and the slow sensual kiss Izuku had been wanting.

“Finally,” Izuku gasped when their lips parted. “Would you like… I mean, of course, you’d like to. Would you – Can we try a little Kinbaku? Just a bit?”

“Be specific. Set boundaries,” Kurogiri prompted.

“Just the basic chest harness, for now.” Izuku leaned over to grab the relevant book off the nightstand. He flipped to the section he wanted. “I know it’s super pl–”

“It’s an excellent place to start.” Kurogiri stood and crossed the room. He pulled a pair of blue-handled safety scissors and three hanks of undyed jute rope out of the top middle drawer of the dresser. Izuku knew why he was using the undyed rope: in case he panicked and Kurogiri had to use the safety scissors to cut him loose it was no real loss. 

“Tell me if this is uncomfortable in any way. I’ll cut you loose just for the asking, but what is your safe word?”

“I was thinking the traffic light system, but also tapping out if I can’t talk.” Izuku blushed a pretty pink. “This,” he reached over and squeezed Kurogiri’s wrist, “could mean the same as green.”

“Very well,” Kurogiri said with a nod. He moved to the sitting area and gestured at the footstool. “Over here, please.”

Izuku moved and sat obediently on the rectangular stool. It was just long enough for a person to lie down on if they didn’t mind their head and butt hanging off.

Kurogiri moved behind him and began wrapping the rope around his middle, just below his pecks. The bight was positioned over his spine and the tail tucked through. Kurogiri made sure there was just enough slack that he could fit two fingers under the rope. The rope was brought around him again in the opposite direction. The tension was checked again after the tail was pulled through the newly created loop.

Izuku hummed contentedly at the care that was being taken.

“Does that feel okay?” Kurogiri asked.

“Yeah. No complaints here,” Izuku replied, before chuckling and adding, “Green.”

Kurogiri’s fingers caressed up his spine as the rope was pulled up. It was wrapped around him again, just under his arms. After the second pass, again in the opposite direction, he took a moment to check that he could still fit two fingers under both sections.

Then Kurogiri brought the rope over Izuku’s shoulder. He made a V shape, over the top rope, under the bottom, and reversed on the way back. He took a second hank and secured it to the first. “Is that comfortable? I can move the knot if it’s not.”

“Seems fine,” Izuku replied. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Of course,” Kurogiri said. He leaned over Izuku, gently tilting his head back. It was an interesting angle; both of them got a bottom lip to capture between their own. Kurogiri broke the kiss after a moment. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. A little turned on, not gonna lie. Green, so very, very green.”

“Good.” He brought the tail over the top rope, then under it and out the other side. It was then pulled over the shoulder ropes and under the top rope.  He secured it with a half hitch knot and weaved the excess around the shoulder ropes in a figure-eight. “There. You look gorgeous. How does it feel?” Kurogiri made sure the fit was still correct.

“Um… it’s nice. I feel… secure. I think I might like this,” Izuku said. “Also, still green.”

Kurogiri chuckle. He kissed the top of Izuku’s head. “Good boy.”

Izuku sat up a little straighter.

“Oh, we liked that, didn’t we?”

Izuku nodded, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful. May I, and feel free to say no if it makes you uncomfortable, take a few pictures?” Kurogiri asked.

“Okay, just not my face,” Izuku replied.

“Explain, please.” Kurogiri pressed when Izuku gave him a confused look. “I need to know if you’re compromising with me, or if you're actually comfortable with this.”

“Kinda both. I’m fine with you taking pictures, and,” he lowered his voice, “masturbating to them. But I’m afraid of what happens if you get caught.”

“Ah. Then there’s no need to fret. I can store them in a firebox rigged to destroy the contents if not opened correctly,” he suggested. “But only if you are comfortable with it.”

“Yeah, green,” Izuku said.

Kurogiri pulled out his phone and took a picture of Izuku sitting straight and tall. He moved around behind him running his hand along Izuku’s chest as he went. Two pictures were taken of his back. Kurogiri ran his hands up and down Izuku’s toned flesh. “You’re such a good boy. So sweet to me.”

“Yeah?  I’m not too much trouble?”

“You are exactly the amount of trouble I want,” Kurogiri replied. He tilled Izuku’s head back again and took a shot of him from above. “Beautiful, adorable, perfect.”

Izuku blushed at the praise. Kurogiri took another picture. He ran his hand over the chest harness. Izuku leaned into the contact. “M-more, please.”

“More?”

“Touch me, more.”

Kurogiri set the phone down. He ran both hands over Izuku’s chest. “Such a good boy.”

Izuku shifted to his knees on the footstool so he could reach Kurogiri’s lips. “More of that too, please.”

“My delicious pet. Mmm, precious love.”

Izuku began trailing kisses along his jaw. When he got to Kurogiri’s ear he gave an experimental lick.

“You're doing perfectly, go on,” Kurogiri encouraged, all the while his hands caressed over the ropes. He dipped down and licked Izuku’s collarbone. Izuku gasped and then mimicked the gesture. “Yes, just like that, good job.”

Izuku ate up the praise. Kurogiri was free with praise during training as well; it was one of the things Izuku loved about him. Now the compliments dripped from his tongue like honey, and Izuku’s sweet tooth was insatiable. 

“Gorgeous. Now, let me change your harness.” Kurogiri undid the rope up to the first step. From there he pulled the rope over Izuku’s shoulder. He ran it under the bottom rope and back up so it had to cross the first shoulder rope to go over the other shoulder. “You're doing such a good job. Are you still comfortable?”

“Yes. God, green, Love, green.” Izuku looked down and admired the decretive little twist that resulted. “So pretty.” He patted the rope. “You spoil me.”

Kurogiri chuckled. “You make it easy.” The tail was brought under the chest strap again, and around the front over the shoulder ropes. Kurogiri checked the tension. “Perfect.” He brought the rope from under the arm over the opposite shoulder. “If this is at all uncomfortable let me know. Right away.”

“Green, so far,” Izuku replied.

Kurogiri hooked the rope under the bottom and ran from underarm to shoulder on the opposite side. The ropes sat just off of Izuku’s throat. The tail was weaved in a figure-eight pattern around all of the shoulder ropes; tightening it slightly around the neck. Kurogiri checked that he could fit two fingers under each section of rope.

“Are you still comfortable?”

“Yeah. It’s not any tighter than wearing a tie,” Izuku replied. “Still green.”

“Good.” Kurogiri stepped back to admire the star harness before retrieving his phone for more pictures. “Keep being good for me, Love.”

 

Izuku was sitting on top of a rock pillar that Iida was pretty sure was not for climbing. It made up one end of a four-foot-high wall around the park. The wall was painted with silhouettes of brontosauruses, t-rexes, pterodactyls, and stegosauruses. Izuku dropped down as Iida approached him.

“Okay, run through your landings for me, then I’ll teach you the safety vault.” Soon, Izuku was explaining the first of many vaults. “Put one hand and the opposite leg on the wall, lift the other leg as you go over – like stepping over it – and land on that leg. Easy peasy.”

Izuku had decided to teach him four or five moves at a time. The side vault was next on the list. “Both hands are placed on the obstacle, and then you jump over it with your legs to one side. The hand closest to the legs comes off first, then the other on the way down.”

The speed vault was basically a footless version of the safety vault or a one-handed version of the side vault, so Izuku figured he could handle two more.

The turn vault was the first complicated thing he taught Iida. “It starts like a side vault, but you pivot on the outside arm and end up clinging to the obstacle like you landed a cat leap.” Last, for the day, he taught him the dash vault. “Jump over the wall like you’re going to land on your butt. Then plant your hands and push off it. After you get this one down we’ll play follow the leader.”

Iida was an earnest student, but when Izuku framed the last bit of practice as a game, he came out of his shell and even laughed as they ran and climbed through the park.

“I see the merit of this much more clearly now. Thank you,” Iida said with a slight bow.

“My pleasure. I’m sure this was just as much about getting me a running partner Aizawa-sensei approves of as it was about teaching you.”

“I’m glad this is helpful to you as well.”

“Do you wanna grab a coffee? There’s a little stand near here that does wild seasonal flavors.”

“Sure, that sounds good.”

Izuku flashed him an impish grin and vaulted the wall. Even without his quirk, he could keep up with Izuku on a straight path. With leaping and climbing involved, he was still miles behind, but Izuku made sure to keep him in sight. And to keep off buildings.

When Izuku reached the coffee stand, Iida was only a few leaps behind him. “Good job! My treat, then.”

“I couldn’t possibly. You’re teaching me after all, I should treat you.”

“But it’s a reward for being such a good student,” Izuku insisted. “I like treating people.”

“Oh. How about you get the drinks and I buy us a snack?”

Grinning, Izuku accepted. The three seasonal flavors were peach-cherry, strawberry-rhubarb, and pineapple-matcha.  Each could be ordered hot buticed was recommended, especially the pineapple. For the snack, the pair agreed on the ‘sandwiches for two’ special, which they were told, was popular for dates and college students. It came with three sandwich halves, which were cut in half again for sharing. Izuku made a note of the idea for his next date with Kurogiri. They chose an egg salad that had alternating slices of hard-boiled egg and avocado, an artful wanpaku that was the favorite of the college crowd, and a mixed fruit sandwich for dessert.

The pair talked as they ate, mostly about school. “How do you put up with Bakugo’s bad attitude? When the other classes came to have a look at us, he insulted them and turned them against us.”

“Kacchan isn’t as bad as he seems. The first thing you have to do is watch out for defensive behaviors. He doesn’t like to be crowded, he has a delicate ego – do not say that in front of him – he’s very emotional but thinks it’s weak. Secondly, tell him off. Scold him like a naughty puppy. If you think, ‘he should know better by now,’ throw that thought away. He was never corrected by our teachers in the past and his mom just yells at him. She doesn’t care that he got in fights except that it would affect his chances to get into a good school.”

“You think he was abused?” Iida asked cautiously.

“Not in any actionable way,” Izuku replied. “But I have to look out for him now, no one else will.”

“That’s too big a job for one person. Especially, since you don’t have class with him,” Iida pointed out. “However… What works?”

“Teamwork?” Izuku asked with a smile.

“Teamwork,” Iida confirmed. “I’ll try to look after him when you’re not available.”

“Thanks.”

Chapter 28: Practice, Training, and Perfection

Yamada breezed in, barely giving his usual non-apologies. “The line was so long. Happy Birthday!” He set a glazed donut on the corner of Ubukata’s desk, careful not to set it in the path of her small plush panda phone charm as it marched back and forth. “Okay, let me just take roll super quick, then I’ll conveniently forget to collect your homework until the end of the period, sound fair? Good. Don’t let me forget, okay?”

 

“So,” Hound Dog started once Minoru was settled in one of the armchairs with his lunch tray. “How are we going to change going forward?”

“I don’t know! I looked up your stupid Hostile Environment Sexual Harassment, but that didn’t help at all.”

“What did you find?”

“It says it’s any conduct directed at a student or faculty member because of that person’s sex that unreasonably interferes with their performance or creates an intimidating, hostile, or offensive environment. But I’ve never done anything like that.”

“Let’s break it down further then. Did you read the examples?”

Minoru nodded.

“First, unwanted sexual advances or touching. Have you ever asked for or offered any sexual favors?”

“Well,” he thought about it for a moment, “no.”

“Good!” Hound Dog sounded genuinely surprised. “What about touching in a manner that may be construed as sexual?”

He shook his head. He hadn’t groped anyone at Yuuei. In middle school he had, but that was all good fun. Things were just different here.

“Have you made any jokes about gender? Either about someone in particular or just in general?”

“No.”

“Any lewd or sexual jokes?”

“N-no.” he had told Kaminari a couple of raunchy jokes, but that was in private, and he’d laughed at them.

“Do you make inappropriate gestures?”

“Inappropriate gestures?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Hound Dog scolded. “Miming a jerk-off motion, pretending to grope someone but without making contact, hip thrusts –”

“Okay, okay I get it. No. I haven’t done any of that.”

“Sharing or displaying sexually-charged material?”

“No!”

“Offensive remarks about looks, body parts, and clothes.”

“No,” he replied slowly. “I mean the girls get upset when I compliment them, but that’s all it is compliments.”

“Are you sure? Compliments about looks, body parts, and clothes often skirt into dangerous waters. Even if you mean it completely innocently, if the girls are consistently finding it offensive, you have a problem.”

“They just don’t like me because I’m short and not a muscled hunk.”

Hound Dog sighed. “How about we try this, for the next two weeks when you give a compliment, I want you to write it down. Doesn’t matter who you’re giving it to – male, female, student, teacher, the cashier at the grocery store – keep track of all of them and we’ll look them over at our next session.”

“Okay.”

 

The flier Inui-sensei gave to Kyoka said to wear her gym uniform, so she was standing in gym gamma with twelve other girls waiting for the instructor to start the class. She didn't recognize any of them and was a little concerned that she was the only hero course student. It made her feel weak.

At four exactly, Mitsuno drew attention to himself by rolling his shoulders and bouncing on the spot. Kyoka turned her attention to him immediately. A short, thin girl with a bob cut that obscured her eyes followed suit after a few seconds; the other girls continued to chat amongst themselves.

“I thought there were two hero students with us,” he said, cocking his head. He was barefoot but wearing a white jumpsuit and purple visor. “Is it Kan or Aizawa that isn't properly training you in combat awareness?” 

The girl looked down, her posture suddenly stiff. “I, he's not.”

“We've only been here a week,” Kyoka snapped.

He smirked. “Very good. Now,” he raised his voice to address the group, “Personal safety is about choices and circumstances. While you can't always control the latter, you can certainly control the former. I will be giving you the knowledge to make good choices for your personal safety and to turn those choices into lifelong habits.”

Whereas most teachers made an effort to look at, or at least appear to look at, each student, Mitsuno stared straight ahead as he spoke. It was a little unnerving.

“I am not going to teach you how to fight,” he continued. “And certainly not to fight fair. You will learn to gouge eyes, break noses, and pull hair. To identify weak points and take advantage of them. To protect yourself at all costs. Some of the techniques I will be teaching you could land you in jail if you use them. I expected you to use them but with caution.”

“If we could go to jail, why teach us?” someone asked.

“It beats the hell out of being raped.”

Each girl stood still and stunned, the room was silent. Everyone looked uncomfortable. Kyoka, on the other hand, felt safe for the first time since the attack.

“Hero student, what's your name?”

Kyoka looked at the short girl. “There are two hero students. Who do you mean?”

He chuckled. “We all know I meant you, but good job calling me out for that. Keep it up, hero. Now, what's your name?”

“Kyoka Jiro.”

“Excellent. Jiro, as we have an uneven class, you'll be paired with me for demonstrations and sparring. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Tell me if you don't want to do something. If something makes you uncomfortable.”

“I… I will.” 

“Good. Today, we'll do a quick overview. We start with verbal and physical strategies in face-to-face scenarios to avoid or stop assault; including boundary-setting skills with people we know and de-escalating conflicts. Recognizing when your boundaries are being crossed. How to respond effectively to offensive, inappropriate, and dangerous behavior. And, naturally, to defend yourself when faced with physical violence. We'll meet for two hours every Wednesday. The total course is twenty-six hours.

“We are told that the crime rate in Japan is only six percent thanks to All Might. But those figures do not account for a good portion of crimes stopped by pro-heroes. If the villain is shunted into a rehabilitation program instead of jail, the hero might write it up as a rescue. Especially if the offender was a mutation, sighting societal pressures as the triggering event. Many petty thefts, burglaries, and even armed robberies are handled this way. As are rampages that do not result in death or major injury. That greatly reduces what is put on the books. That six percent is made up of drug use, murders, rapes, and abductions. Last year there were one thousand six hundred and fifty-six rapes. One in four people between the ages of 16 and 24 has experienced sexual violence of some kind, and teachers, classmates, and others at educational institutions accounted for more than one-third of the perpetrators. Strangers account for less than a third and online contacts only fourteen percent. Twenty-three percent of cases occur at school, seventeen percent on public transit, and twelve online.

“Verbal is the most common, accounting for eighteen percent according to studies. Harassment associated with physical contact is next with twelve percent. Being shown unwanted images or videos is ten percent. Flashing of some sort comes in at seven percent. And rape at four percent. Most damning, half of all victims do not report it.

“I will teach you to speak up, speak out, be heard, be seen, and most importantly how to be taken seriously. When something does happen what you say and to whom is very important.” Mitsuno was silent, still staring straight ahead when he finished. He let the girls absorb the information. “Right. Now we’re going to go around the room and talk about what brought us here today. As this is an informal survey to see where your focus lies, details are unnecessary. ‘I am worried about my safety on public transport’ and ‘I have witnessed others being harassed at school’ are both perfectly valid. Obligatory: if you are harassed, or see someone being harassed on Yuuei property or by Yuuei staff or students please report it to an authority figure. The police, myself, Midnight, Recovery Girl, and Hound Dog are all good options. Your homeroom teachers should be as well. Nezu is also an excellent option. That rat would fight, and defeat, god for half a bagel. He’d topple the government to protect his students.” After a pause, he said, “I’ll go first, but after that, Jiro do you want to go next or last?”

She hesitated, glancing at the other girls. She would only need to say that she wanted to learn to defend herself from physical assault. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her nose. “Next.”

“Very good.” Mitsuno reached up and pulled his visor off. There was a scar across his eyes. His irises and pupils were both a milky grey. “I was twelve. My sister was sixteen. We were living with our aunt and her husband.” He fell silent. After a moment, he put his visor back on.

It took Kyoka a moment to collect herself. Mitsuno had set a tone she didn’t need to give them details. “I was threatened during the USJ attack,” she started but she couldn’t stop. The words came pouring out as if against her will. “Denki and Momo were down, one of them had me by the ear,” she gestured to her dangling ear jack, “and there were so many of them. He said I should make it up to them, and I thought his partner was going to object, but he didn’t. It was stupid. I was stupid. He said if I cooperated, they’d leave Denki and Momo alone. But I couldn’t,” she sobbed and Mitsuno turned toward her, “I couldn’t. I panicked; and started screaming. I struggled and he nearly ripped my ear off. He shoved me against the wall and grabbed my belt. I was terrified. No one was coming to save me. I was the hero and there was nothing I could do.” She crumpled in on herself, sobbing into her hands.

“But then backup had arrived,” Mitsuno said simply. He knelt beside her. “Are you okay with physical contact? Specifically, if I were to rub your shoulders?”

 Kyoka nodded, unable to get enough breath to speak.

“This will be difficult,” he began running his hand back-and-forth across her shoulder blades almost mechanically, “but I can teach you how to handle that situation. How to break holds, endure and inflict pain in equal measure, and to survive above all else. This is where you learn the true meaning of ‘Plus Ultra’. You will learn to go beyond your limitations. To find more strength than what lies in your tiny frame and more ferocity than you ever thought could live in your heart. I will teach you to walk amongst giants and have no need to fear them.” He stayed beside her but continued the lesson. “Kan’s student, what is your name and why are you here?”

“K-kinoko Komori,” she replied. “I’m five foot nothing and my quirk takes time to be effective.”

He nodded and gestured with his free hand for the next girl to speak. They went around the group introducing themselves like that. Finally, when Kyoka had collected herself and Mitsuno returned to the center of their semi-circle, he spoke, “My aunt and her…” he pressed his lips into a thin line. “My uncle. My uncle was a six-and-a-half-foot-tall pro hero. For reference, I’m five-nine now, the height my sister was at sixteen. He could produce blades from his mouth. He was not drunk or high. He was not overworked. He was not ‘making a mistake’. He committed a crime. We were defenseless children in his care. I will never stand by while that happens to someone else. My sister hung herself when she found out she was pregnant. When he turned his attention to me… I was terrified. No one was coming to save me. He was a hero and there was nothing I could do.” he let the silence hang heavy in the air. “The next-door neighbor got a night job to make ends meet. My aunt and uncle were all too happy to watch her kids at night. They were still in elementary school. I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen again. Happen to someone else. To children.” He touched his visor. “My quirk is sensing vibrations. It’s not geared towards combat. I was blinded, but he can’t breathe without a tube in his throat and he will never walk again.

“I completed a villain rehabilitation program in time to enroll in Yuuei and graduated top of my class. I will never turn a blind eye to the evils of this world; no matter who is committing it.”

 

Yagi, covered in a fine sheen of sweat, watched from the sand as Izuku sent air blast after air blast out over the ocean. He was teaching the boy to gauge distance with little to no frame of reference. It was also helping Izuku to learn to control One for All’s erratic energy. “Good. You’re doing better every day. Try ninety more meters out.”

Izuku inhaled. He twisted with the punch, exhaling. He felt the snap and dropped One for All for the first time that night. “Shit. Ow.” He clutched his arm to his chest and staggered to his bag. Izuku pulled a rolled-up SAM splint out of his bag. Facing the blue foam side to his skin, Izuku lined one end up with his knuckles. He bent it around his elbow and up to his palm, where the excess length was folded down. Izuku gritted his teeth. “Okay, could you take this? I can’t. It needs to be bent into an arc all along the length, to stabilize it.”

Yagi was already hovering next to him waiting to help. He took the splint. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Perfect.” Izuku fished out an ACE bandage. He took the SAM splint back and awkwardly started to wrap his own arm.

“Let me help with that.”

“I actually need to know how to do this myself,” Izuku protested. “Grab me a jelly pouch, would you?”

Eagar to assist, Yagi dug through the pockets until he found the four pouches. Knowing Izuku preferred the melon-flavored one he grabbed the one labeled with a crudely drawn circle and stem on it. He waited until the splint was properly molded to Izuku’s elbow before offering him the pouch.

“Thanks,” Izuku said, voicelessly. He huffed and then signed, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Yagi said, as he signed back.

“You know?”

“A little.” Yagi grinned. “I’m glad you’re learning. It’s great for communication and PR.”

Izuku popped open the jelly drink and sucked it down. “Shinso is teaching me.” He hesitantly activated One for All. The erratic energy whirred in the spaces left by his healing’s rhythmic thrum. The two energies were genuinely working in harmony. The sensation was comforting, like a good binaural beat, and he felt it from the top of his head to the tip of his shadow. This was what One for All was supposed to feel like.

Izuku, carefully, pulled his phone out and checked the time. “A break normally takes twelve hours to heal.”

“Shouldn’t we get you to a doctor?”

“If it’ll make you more comfortable, but there’s not a lot they can do for me.”

“Well, they could X-ray it,” he insisted.

“I could get Recovery Girl to do that in the morning,” Izuku said dismissively.

“I’ll tell Aizawa.”

Izuku whirled on him with narrowed eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

“Then let me take you for an X-ray. What if there’s a bone shard?”

“Fine,” he relented. “Could be healed by the time we get there anyway.”

 

Shinso lay on his back panting and loosely tangled in the capture scarf. Izuku was grinning ear to ear as he snapped a picture. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it very loudly.”

“Quit wasting time, both of you,” Aizawa snapped. “Shinso, when you figure out what you did wrong you’ll be able to get free. Midoriya, you’ll be running a lap for every knife outside of the bull’s-eye, and four for everyone not on the target. Get to it.”

Izuku stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

 

After training, Izuku had a session with Inui. They chatted about the stresses of school and the upcoming sports festival. Eventually, Inui asked him, “So how did you meet your new friends?”

“Well, I met Kuu at the hospital, because we were both up all night. He said I could come to his gym if I couldn’t sleep. Toki was there, the first time I showed up. I skipped school so I could go during the day. No,” Izuku corrected himself, “I skipped because if I went to school and they acted the same I would lose it again and hurt someone. The little bastards were treating Kacchan the way they’d been treating me. I, uh, I threw a chair. Never did get in trouble for it. Anyway, Kuu hooked me up with a workout regimen and a nutrition plan. It was slow going getting to know Toki, but we both like Lunar Gaia. His favorite is Blue Heart, but he doesn’t play the side games, so he misses out on a lot. I hate that he was right about the main story making Vayne a bad guy, but the depth of story is what makes the series. Toki is cunning, observant, and tactical. He likes to act like he’s just a lazy otaku, but a lot of planning actually goes into it. He works out enough to keep Kuu and his father off his back, and he has to earn his own money for games and stuff. He can be a bit emotional, but he doesn’t hold on to it if that makes any sense.”

“Sure. He has an outburst, but when it’s over, he’s over it.”

“Yeah,” Izuku nodded enthusiastically. “And Hiki… well, Kuu introduced us so I’d have a free running partner. She’s cheerful, sensible, and passionate. Sometimes she’ll act like she likes something because Toki or I like it, but we make sure to do stuff she actually likes. I think at home she spends a lot of time pretending to be ‘good’ and we just want her to be ‘Hiki’.”

“The kanji for her name is interesting,” he said looking at his notes from the previous session. “Princess, princess?”

Izuku grinned. “Yeah, Toki picked it.”

“Oh?”

“Uh, yeah, right. Sometimes I forget that we don’t use real names at the gym. It’s a protection of sorts. I mean Kuu knows my name, but to Toki and Hiki I’m just Sae.” He showed him his grey phone. “It means ‘be skillful’, or as Toki put it, ‘get good, scrub’.”

“How is it protection?”

“If Hiki’s family comes around and asks about her, everyone can honestly say they’ve never heard of her. I mean it can bite someone if they need an alibi, but I think that would fall to Kuu to verify, as the resident responsible adult.” He shrugged. “His name is written with the kanji for ‘come’ and ‘help someone’. And Toki is ‘human’ and ‘hope’. They’re supposed to have a double meaning. Like how I needed to improve to reach my goals, but I never tried on my own. And Kuu loves helping people but it’ll be the death of him if he overdoes it.”

“You don’t find it insulting?”

“No. It sounds like encouragement every time they say my name.”

 

Despite being mid-spring, the sun baked down on the fifteen or so teens training at the beach. The rhythm of the waves crashing against the sand and the whipping wind were joined by a cacophony of shouts, grunts, and thudding strikes as they sparred.

There was no warning shout, no whistling of wood through the air, nothing but her own half-muttered curse as Yaoyorozu landed on her butt in the sand – for the dozenth time.

“Mind your surroundings,” Midoriya told her, condescendingly.

She and Kyoka were sparing, like the others, while Midoriya was walking around with a bo staff – that Yaoyorozu had created for him – tripping their classmates at random.

Something roiled in the pit of Kyoka’s stomach. Mitsuno-sensei’s words echoed in her ears. …speak up, speak out, be heard, be seen… she wanted to, desperately, but all she could do was quietly help Yaoyorozu back to her feet. The moment was gone but she was heartened when Bakugo tried to trip Midoriya as he approached. Even the intense blond was getting tired of his ‘training technique’.

“Too slow, Kacchan!” He hopped away while sweeping the staff low to trip Tokoyami.

“Mind your surroundings,” several people called as he hit the sand. Tokoyami lay in the sand scowling as a grinning Midoriya continued to practically bounce around them, barely shifting the sand beneath his feet. He was both a tense, oppressive presence and ghost-like in how easy it was to lose track of him and then forget he was there.

“Koda behind you!” Shoji shouted just before Midoriya knocked the quiet boy’s legs out from under him.

Koda grimaced as he hit the ground and Shoji glared at Izuku.

“Mind your surroundings.”

“Deku! Give them a break and spar with me!” Bakugo shouted.

“Sure, as long as Aizawa-sensei doesn’t find out.” He turned and tossed his staff to Sato, who had been sparring with Bakugo. “Keep us on our toes.”

At least he had the same expectations for himself.

 

Izuku had finally learned Toga’s disappearing trick. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled from his mouth. It was so slowly that his lungs burned. He had to learn to react on instinct without panicking and to make decisions with information he only had subconsciously. It was counter to who he was as a person not to overanalyze everything.

He was slowly sneaking up to the bar. As bad an idea as it was to sneak up on Tomura, it was his only option without trying it out in public. His steps were silent. His movements were smooth and slow. He managed to stay in Tomura’s blind spot. When he could reach Tomura’s elbow, he gave it a tap.

Tomura flinched and made to shove him away; luckily, Izuku had stepped back reflexively and immediately. “Hey.”

“Don’t do that!”

Izuku tilted his head to one side and feigned innocence. “Do what?”

“Sneak up on me!”

“Oh,” he said. “Did I startle you? I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit. You and Toga have been playing hide-and-stab for hours. Don’t involve me.” Tomura settled back on his stool. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs anyway?”

Izuku grinned. “When Toga-chan and I are done training.”

“Hey, don’t say anything to him, but I’m glad you’re with Kurogiri. He’s never been this happy before,” Tomura said, suddenly.

“I love him,” Izuku replied.

“Good. Because if you break his heart, I… I don’t know what I’d do but it would be bad.”

“It’s good that you’re protective of him. Like family.”

“We are family,” Tomura said firmly. “You too. Even if you don’t feel that way yet.”

“I… I do think of you as a brother.”

“So I’m on par with Kacchan?”

“Tomura, you’ve never told me to kill myself, called me weak, or thought less of me over something I couldn’t control. You are leagues better than Kacchan. If it came down to a choice between you and him, I already made that decision when I used him as a hostage.”

“That was because he attacked Kurogiri.”

“And I could have let him go,” Izuku replied. He sat down and leaned into Tomura’s space. “But you weren’t done yet.”

Tomura allowed his shoulder to be bumped. “You won’t leave us?” It was surprisingly vulnerable of him.

“I promise.”

 

Izuku pressed the buzzer to let Aizawa and Yamada know he had arrived. It was a good ten minutes after that Yamada came to the door to let him in. No buzzing people in, in this high-security building; the key card had to be used anytime the door was opened. The elevator code was different, but Yamada’s sleeve still exposed his wrist as he punched it in.

Smiling wistfully, Izuku touched his own bracelet. The memory of Kurogiri’s praise echoed in his mind. Just like that. Perfect, Love. My precious pet. Adorable. Good boy. Beautiful. A light blush tinged his cheeks. Luckily, he was leaning against the back wall of the elevator. Izuku pulled out his grey phone and texted, Thinking about you makes me smile.

Yamada glanced back at him as the elevator came to a stop. “Talking to a girl?”

“Ah, something like that,” Izuku said stuffing the phone away.

“A boy, then?”

His blush deepened. “Yeah.”

“Anyone I know?”

Izuku shook his head. “He goes to my gym.”

“Well, just don’t let anyone tell you puppy love isn’t important. It won’t work out statistically, but you learn a lot about yourself.”

“You and Aizawa-sensei worked out.”

Yamada laughed as he unlocked the door. “Eventually. We dated a bit in high school, but, ah it fell apart when our friend died. We tried again in university, but the sort of long-distance thing didn’t work for either of us and we were both still finding ourselves.” He slipped his boots off and pulled on a pair of leopard print house shoes. “We really only got together after he started teaching.”

“Zashi, don’t air our laundry to students,” Aizawa said from under his bandages.

“I was just making him feel comfortable,” he defended. “He’s got a boyfriend.”

“Whatever, just don’t get distracted. Go do your warm-ups, Hizashi and I will be in, in a minute.” Aizawa was in the kitchen fending off the cats as he tried to feed them each half a can of food.

“You should have waited for me, mummy man,” Yamada huffed.

“They’re hungry.”

“Yeah, yeah. They can wait ten minutes for dinner.”

“I tried explaining that to them.”

Yamada shook his head as he divided the can into two bowls and poured dry food on top. “That reminds me: What’s the name of the guy that moved in two doors down? The one we gave the cat litter to?”

“His cats are named Chika-chan and Maru-kun.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“That’s the information I have.”

Izuku chuckled as he made his way to the training room.

Notes:

Biocards:
Name: Kinu Ubukata
Kanji: 絹 生形
絹 silk
生 life, genuine, birth, 形 shape, form, style
Quirk: Puppeteer – the user can manipulate puppets, dolls, and soft toys
Description: A quiet girl struggling to strengthen her quirk
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: May 11
Height: 5’1”
Blood Type: B
Likes/dislikes: Plushies, Movie Marathons, Girls Nights

Name: Ami Himura
Kanji: 彩光 緋村
彩 vividness/color, 光 light
緋 scarlet/dark red, 村 town/village
Quirk: Infrared Vision – the user can see infrared light as well as the normal visible spectrum; the range is limited and sensors can also disrupt it
Description: A normal schoolgirl with an underwhelming quirk
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: March 9
Height: 5’2”
Blood Type: O
Likes/dislikes: Flowers, Horoscopes, Sweets

Name: Mitsu Hoshino
Kanji: 光 星野
光 Light
星 Star, 野 Field/ Wilderness
Quirk: Fairy Lights – Produces small floating orbs of light that glow a soft white and may be as big as a softball
Description:
Affiliation:
Birthday: June 21
Height: 5’8”
Blood Type: B
Likes/dislikes: Camping/hiking, Reading, Playing Video Games

Chapter 29: The Sports Festival

“Another round of Smash or Pass as we wait?” Isago asked as he stood from tying his shoes. Many of their classmates were sitting just staring at the wall, floor, or ceiling wreaked with nerves. Those that weren’t were doing their warm-up routines.

“Whose playing?” Hoshino asked putting his hand up.

It was a smaller group this time. The six participants were spread out around the waiting room. Aki elected to go first. “Shinso.”

He was the only pass. “Narcissism is not my thing and I wouldn’t wanna face me in a fight.” The room was briefly filled with titters of laughter. “Hoshino.”

“Oh, we’re just gonna do classmates right be for the big game, huh?” the man in question said. “Tch. I see how it is.”

There was a long pause for consideration before the passes won the vote.

“Damn.”

“While I definitely think I could take him in a fight,” Tachibana said, “we have established that I have a thing for skinny boys with long hair.” He paused to see if there would be a rebuttal. “Are we doing turns based on who defended or who was offered up?”

“Either way works,” Isago said. “Here, if I go it’ll be a circle, anticlockwise. Aizawa.”

The passes quickly outweighed the smashes. Izuku sighed, shared a look with Shinso, and defended the gruff teacher. “I mean I get it, I wouldn’t wanna fight him either. Sparring is bad enough. But it’s like Mirko or Midnight, but, like, I don’t know, soft-spoken spoken and he’ll make you like it.”

“He’s an absolute daddy,” Shinso said in his empty monotone. “That’s what you’re searching for.”

Izuku blushed. “Oh my god, Shinso.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Izuku just shook his head.

Next up was Hoshino, when the class stopped snickering. “Tachibana.”

Aki was the only pass. “I know what you’re all thinking: but he’s hot and would worship the ground you walk on –”

“Would not.”

“That’s exactly your type. But here’s the catch, his hair drips amber when he’s distracted. Tell me a proper smash would not be distracting.”

There were some nods of agreement to that, but Hoshino said, “And I suppose with you letting him top is out of the question.”

Izuku chuckled. “Aki.”

“I knew you’d do that.”

“I’m just glad they saved you for me.”

The votes were cast and Aki was the only smash. “Bullshit! I’m hot.”

“But have you met you? You’re a bitch.”

“You can be nice,” Izuku said. “You were on top of things when that thug was harassing Toru, and Kazama likes you as a person. And you’re not wrong about being hot, it’s just not enough.” 

“And to complete the set, before we run out of time, Isago,” Tachibana said with a grin.

Aki passed, likely out of spite, and was surprised to find herself in the majority.

“Dark hair and a serious attitude, what’s not to love?” Shinso said. “Plus his quirk could cure my insomnia.”

Ariyama strode into the room carrying five Kit-kat bars. “It’s game time, Class 1-C.” She quickly opened the candy and gave each classmate a piece. “For luck.”

 

“HEEEELLLOOOO! Make some noise, all you rabid sports fans. Get those cameras prepped media hoards.”

Shota chuckled as Hizashi came as close as he could to saying what actually he wanted to. Neither of them liked the press, but most people found it odd that Hizashi felt that way.

“This year we’re bringing you some of the hottest performances in Yuuei’s festival history guaranteed!” His voice rang through the stadium, hyping up the crowd.

Shota would have found it annoying at the best of times but he was currently mummified from his injuries, his bones still throbbed with each heartbeat. He smiled a little under his bandages as his best friend and idiot husband’s raw enthusiasm rubbed off on the spectators. At least he was in a comfortable seat protected from the noise by thick glass.

“I’ve just got one question before we start this show: are you ready~?” Hizashi was in full-on presenter mode. “Let me hear you scream as our students make their way onto the main stage!”

If he didn’t know any better Shota would think that Hizashi’s quirk was a subtle form of mind control the way he worked a crowd. They went from the exited roar of thousands of fans talking at once to a deafening unified cheer.

“This first group are no strangers to the spotlight! You know them from the USJ villain attack! They’re the dazzling students lighting up your TV with solid gold skills! That’s right it’s the Hero Course students of Class 1-A!” The crowd roared even louder as the eighteen students walked out onto the field. “They haven’t been getting nearly as much screen time, but this next group is still chocked full of talent! Welcome Hero Course Class 1-B! Next up are General Studies Classes C, D, and E. Support Classes F, G, and H. And Finally, the Business Classes I, J, and K. Give it up for all of Yuuei’s first-year contestants!”

 

“Now the introductory speech!” Midnight announced from a small raised platform. She gave the crowd a moment to murmur about her costume before continuing, “Silence everyone! And for the student pledge, we have Katsuki Bakugo!”

Mineta asked, “He’s the first-year rep?” as Bakugo started toward the stage.

Kirishima added, “I guess he did finish first on the entrance test.”  

“Only for the hero course exam,” someone else said snidely.

“Actually the written is the same for gen and hero,” Izuku said. He called to Bakugo, “Say something nice, Kacchan!”

Bakugo jerked around to look at him. There was a beautifully mutinous look in his eyes, and he flipped Izuku off by sticking his hand in his pocket with his middle finger out.

“Love you too,” Izuku called again.

Bakugo ascended the stairs, but when he got to the microphone facing the crowd he turned it around to face the students. “A lot of you have been talking shit about 1-A being arrogant, but we didn’t ask to be attacked. We didn’t ask to be on the news. We didn’t come to your classroom and start shit. It’s not our fault that you lack any real-world experience, but if you can keep up, by all means, join us. We’ll be in the winner’s circle.”

Bakugo descended the stairs without returning the microphone to its proper orientation. It was a symbolic gesture as Midnight was clearly mic’ed. The other classes booed and yelled at him but 1-C shouted, “We love you, Bakugo!” and “Savage!”

Iida said, “That was nicer than I expected, well done, Bakugo,” as he walked by.

Midnight shouted, “Without further ado, it’s time for us to get started. The first game is what you’d call a qualifier. This is where you begin feeling the pain. The first fateful game of the festival!” A large holographic screen popped up behind her. “What could it be?” The display box spun for a moment as if randomly selecting the event. She licked her lips salaciously to ramp up the anticipation. It finally revealed an obstacle race. “Tada! All eleven classes will participate in this treacherous contest. The track is four kilometers outside of the stadium. I don’t want to restrain anyone – at least in this game – as long as you don’t leave the course you’re free to do whatever your heart desires.” As Midnight explained, the screen changed to illustrate her point. “Now then take your places, contestants!”

The one hundred and fifty-nine students participating crowded in front of a large red gate that led into a bottle-necked hall. Izuku was reminded of the break-in and the panicked stampede. He was above that sort of thing. Or at least he would be as soon as he could get to the narrow bit of the hall. 

The students waited as the green lights turned off one by one and Midnight shouted, “Begin!”

Izuku didn’t rush forward with the throng. He waited until they were packed in too tight to reach up. Izuku ran and leaped, taking a step on someone’s shoulder. He ran along the wall until he started to lose momentum and jumped to the other side. He bounced from wall to wall in the ten-foot-wide hallway. He was glad he was up so high.

Izuku was able to leap off the wall in time to avoid being trapped by Todoroki’s ice. He landed on the shoulders of the large bestial boy from 1-B. “Sorry!” He hopped down and began picking his way across the ice.

Bakugo was flying ahead and Todoroki was skating along in the lead. Several members of class 1-A vaulted the gaggle of students at the exit. Other students emerged as well, carefully picking their way across the ice. Izuku was impressed to see Iida using the heat of his engines to melt the ice around his legs.

He stopped to help bang the ice off.

“Shouldn’t you be worrying about yourself?”

“Oh, I am. These games are designed to showcase flashy quirks. I don’t have one of those, so I have to shine some other way. And you know what works?”

“Teamwork!” Iida replied enthusiastically as he pulled his foot free. He slipped but was able to prevent himself from falling by bracing against Izuku. The pair laughed. “What’s your game plan for this?”

“Right, you can’t go full speed here. But, it is a smooth, straight shot. If we could stabilize you…” Izuku began muttering.

“Could you use a hand?” Shinso’s voice called from behind him. He could also hear Mei’s manic cackling. “Support department got to bring toys.”

Izuku’s face lit up as if it was Christmas. “Tell me those are hover boot.”

“These,” Mei said proudly, “are hover boots.”

“Excellent,” he praised. “Shinso and I will provide balance and Iida speed. Wrap your arms around her waist.”

Iida complied. “But isn’t this cheating?”

“Midnight said, ‘as long as we don’t leave the track we can do whatever we want’,” Izuku assured him.

Mei started up the hover boots, raising a foot and a half off the ground. With Izuku and Shinso acting as ballast on each boot, she was lowered to only a few inches. “I added variable power settings to increase the stability.”

Iida asked, “Ready?” before activating his quirk. He skimmed over the ice at incredible speed. The other two boys and Mei leaned to and fro for both steering and balance. As they approached the next obstacle, and the lead, Iida slowed. Their tactic would work just as well over the dirt, but… “We can’t see what’s coming at this speed.”

“Right. Good call, we don’t need to come in first to show off, the poll positions are extra.”

Only Todoroki was ahead of them now. He was no longer icing the track as it had lost its effectiveness after the initial burst. As he rounded a corner into a wide spot, a bouncing, screeching purple blur flew at Todoroki hurling sticky balls. Izuku flinched as he heard the metallic ‘wham’ of a robot claw slamming into him.

Bakugo cackled as he rocketed forward, passing them. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”

“Do we split up or stick together?” Iida asked.

Behind them, the rest of the students had caught up. They gasped in awe at the smaller one, two, and three-point robots from the entrance exam; and went pale in horror at not one but eight of the giant zero-pointers. “This is what the hero course had to face in the entrance exam?”

“And we passed the written,” a boy from 1-B shouted running straight into the arena. A few members of 1-A also ran in, including Kirishima.

“You might be able to get ahead if you run for it before Todoroki freezes the bots,” Izuku suggested. “A good team will always lift you up, never hold you back.”

“Get going,” Mei said.

“See you in the winner’s circle,” Shinso added, giving him a shove.

Iida took off, weaving in and out of the giant robots, and passing those that had rushed ahead.

Suddenly, the wave of ice that Izuku had been waiting for engulfed four of the giant robots. A quick assessment let him know that the large ones were too precariously balanced to climb over. Izuku sprinted to the side, followed by Shinso and Mei.

Most of the other students began to surge forward; straight into Todoroki’s trap. The bots collapsed from both their own attempts to get free and the vibrations from a stampede of more than a hundred teenagers eager to prove themselves.

Only two students were caught in the slow fall. Thankfully, it was Kirishima and the boy from 1-B with a similar quirk. Izuku made a mental note of it.

               

Inko wailed at the TV, “No, you can’t beat those, son. Get out of there. Please, just run away for me, baby!”

She watched in horror as, a wide grin clear on her son’s face, he and two other students dodged and leaped around the smaller robots. Izuku grabbed a large heavy-looking piece of debris and darted, significantly slowed, away from a bot that was targeting him in particular. Izuku turned suddenly and, with a physical strength she had no idea he possessed, slammed the hard edge into the joint of its arm, severing it.

She watched in amazement as the boys tore into the robot for parts; both quickly opting for the long metal barrels from the arm. The trio now smashed their way through the small bots with the precision of a tactical strike team.

Cannon blasts took down the large robots, and the first obstacle was cleared.

 

“See you at the finish line, Darlings!” Mei shouted as they ran up to the second obstacle. She fired a grappling arrow from the Capsule Launcher Mark II and reactivated the hover boots. “I hope employers are watching!” She leaped off the edge and swung across the canyon.

Todoroki, Bakugo, and Iida were already halfway across the patchwork of tightropes and columns. Shino abandoned his pole in favor of having both hands free to shimmy across the ropes. Izuku tucked his into his shirt and bore the uncomfortable extra weight as he followed suit.

 

“Man, Stray-kun isn’t beat up at all,” Toga complained with a yawn. “Is he ever gonna get bloody in this stupid race?”

“Likely not,” Kurogiri replied. “But the third round is always a fight bracket; he should take a few hits there, at least, if he makes it.”

Tomura stared at the TV screen. “It must be hard for him to not be able to fight at his full potential.”

“Yeah, he could have crushed those bots with Shadow Bind. And used it to get across the Fall easier.”

“I meant One for All, actually. The bots would have been nothing in the face of that strength, plus he could just jump the gaps.”

“He’s not one to show off unnecessarily,” Kurogiri said. “And he is not Stray-kun now, but rather merely Izuku.”

“He’s always Stray,” Tomura snapped.

Kurogiri poured him a whiskey sour. “But he has put on a mask and will play the part of an aspiring hero. With only his wits and healing quirk to rely on.”

“He’s not doing half bad.”

 

At the start of the last obstacle, everyone had to slow down. They picked their way through the minefield. Pink smoke explosions startled most of the students, making them jump or freeze. Izuku was unaffected, he was used to real, if small, explosions.

Shinso joined the ranks of those slowly making their way through the field, and Mei cackled as she zoomed over it in her hover boots. Behind them, Asuka glided over the pack and Fukami stopped her terrifying tentacled crawl to remove a small purple menace from the back of a hero student. She scooped the student up and slithered into the minefield. Yaoyorozu tossed Matryoshka dolls onto the landmines in their path, clearing the way.

Izuku on the other hand, ran, seemingly carelessly, into the minefield. One, two, three well-planned steps. He planted the robot’s gun barrel in the ground and used it like a short vaulting pole. It was risky, as each landing had to be precise or he would set off a landmine.

Step, step, step, vault. He repeated the maneuver over and over. It was no podium finish, Bakugo had claimed first, narrowly, over Todoroki and a girl from class 1-B with vines for hair had overtaken Iida for third when he tried to speed through the minefield. Tokoyami tied for fourth, with Kirishima and Sero taking fifth and sixth respectively. With a few quick rolls, Izuku managed to tie for eighth. Another member of class 1-B rounded out the top ten; Izuku was the only non-hero course student in it.

 

“Only the top forty-two will advance to the next round, but don’t be too let down if you don’t make the cut,” Midnight announced. “We’ve prepared other opportunities for you to shine. Now the real fun is about to begin. The chance to fully move yourselves into the limelight. Give it your best!”

Izuku couldn’t help the grin that split his face; they had bumped off two hero course students.

Midnight raised her scourge. “Let’s see what we have in store for you next.” The whip was brought down and the holographic screen began its mock roulette routine again. “Will your wildest fantasies come to life? What could it be? The waiting is torture.” She licked her lips again, her tongue lingering provocatively. “Prepare yourselves… for this!” The screen displayed Cavalry Battle.

Izuku began strategizing as Midnight made the announcement.

“Allow me to explain. The participants will form teams of two to four people as they see fit. In theory, it’s the same as a regular playground game but there is one difference. Each player has been assigned a point value based on the results of the obstacle course. The point assignments go up by increments of five starting from the bottom. For example, forty-second place is worth five points, and forty-first is worth ten.” She paused and gripped the tails of her scourge in her hand. “And the point value assigned to first place contestant is; TEN MILLION!”

The students went silent. Everyone glanced at Bakugo. Izuku bit his lip. Defending that would be tough. He wasn’t sure he wanted to take that challenge on, but with the right set of people…

“That’s right,” Midnight continued. “It’s survival of the fittest, with a chance for those at the bottom to overthrow the top.” Midnight dramatically whipped her lash at the holographic screen. “The game itself will last fifteen minutes. Individual point values will be added together to reach your team total. Everyone will know how much you’re worth thanks to your headbands. Swipe as many headbands as you can to raise your team’s score. Stolen headbands must be worn from the neck up! So, the more you steal the harder it will be to manage them.”

Izuku began inching his way toward Bakugo, using the stealth techniques he’d learned from Toga.

“And another thing: even if your headband is stolen, or your team falls down, you can keep playing until time’s up!” She pointed the scourge at the students to emphasize her point. “This is going to be rough. You may use your quirks as much as you like, but there are still rules. Make a team fall on purpose and I’ll slap you with a red card. You’ll be disqualified!”

Izuku grinned when he caught Bakugo making a face at that.

“Now you’ve got fifteen minutes to build your teams! I recommend you get started!” The screen displayed a countdown.

Bakugo was immediately swarmed by class 1-A students. “Remind me what your quirks and names are again.”

“You’re kidding! We’re your classmates!” Ashido whined.

“Can you really be that self-centered?” Sato asked.

“Give him a break,” Izuku cut in. “He’s got a ten million point bounty on him.”

“I don’t need your help,” Bakugo snapped.

“Oh. Okay. Good luck then.” Izuku turned on his heel and began scanning the crowd for his other options.

“Hey!” Bakugo grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “Don’t walk away from me!”

Izuku chuckled. “I thought you didn’t need me.”

“Defending me to these extras, idiot.”

“Hey, Bakugo!” Kirishima shouted as he jogged over. “We should team up!” 

Bakugo looked to Izuku who gave a subtle nod.

“Hey, dumb hair.”

“My name is Kirishima! And our hair isn’t that different,” Kirishima snapped. He composed himself and continued, “You wanna be the rider right? You’re gonna need a strong front horse that won’t be hurt by your blasts. That’d be me.” He used his quirk to harden his arm.

“I need someone with guts.”

“My quirk was made for this! I gotcha covered, man. Let’s go charging into battle together.”

Bakugo grinned. “Alright.”

“Rider, front horse, plus speed, maneuverability, or field control. Iida, Mei, Fukami, or Todoroki,” Izuku muttered.

“I’m not teaming up with that half n’ half bastard.”

“Hey! Iida!” Izuku shouted and waved.

Iida shook his head and gestured to Todoroki.

“Nice work!” he called. Quietly he muttered, “Damn.”

“Team up with me, person in first place!’ Mei shouted as she hovered up to the group. “I’d like to use your current fame to my personal advantage.”

“She's perfect; unless you want to try Fukami.”

“Tentacles? Isn’t that a bad matchup for my quirk?”

“She’s not affected by heat or dry conditions any more than anyone else.”

“Mei is fine,” Bakugo decided. “Less of a height difference in my horses.”

With a nod, Izuku waved over the other three class 1-C students. “Right, let’s talk strategy then.”

Notes:

I didn't post last week because my computer died. It was like 10 years old and I have been meaning to upgrade, so I did. I got my new computer from the shop, and all the chapters are safe! So we continue as scheduled (scheduled not guaranteed, some terms and conditions apply).

Biocards:
Name: Kouha Asuka
Kanji: 煌羽 飛鳥
煌 Shine, 羽 Wing
飛 To fly, 鳥 Bird
Quirk: Macaw – has a feathered bird-like body, beak, wings instead of arms, clawed feet, and tail feathers
Description: A friendly, highly social boy with the coloration of a Great Green Macaw
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: June 12
Height: 5’2”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Nuts, Networking, Flying.

Name: Ushio Fukami
Kanji: 潮 深海
潮 Tide
深 Deep/Heighten/ Intensify/Strengthen, 海 Sea/Ocean
Quirk: Octopus – has a cephalopod-like lower body, can change color both as camouflage & to express emotions, the ring-shaped blue bioluminescent pattern can produce a powerful toxin
Description: An octopus mermaid girl with an unblinking gaze that will drill into the depth of your soul.
Affiliation: Yuuei, Class 1-C
Birthday: November 21
Height: 6’2”
Blood Type: A

Chapter 30: Calling in the Cavalry

Mei had been allowed to bring a veritable arsenal of support gear. In addition to a second pair of hover boots, noise-canceling communicators, and the Mark I & II capsule launchers, she had a jet pack modeled after the one used by the Buster Hero: Airjet. Mei kept her boots and launcher, Izuku was decked out in the other boots and launcher since he knew how to use it, and Kirishima was strapped into the jet pack. The jet pack would be good for short bursts. Bakugo, with only a communicator, was their rider with Kirishima in the front.

They had a good team and an even better strategy. He shared a sly look with the other class 1-C students in their respective teams.

The buzzer went off, Midnight announced, “Oh goody, it’s time to get this party started!”

“Hey, hey, look alive,” Yamada said softly, likely to wake Aizawa. “After fifteen minutes to pick teammates and talk strategy, twelve cavalry teams are preparing to go head to head.”

“I see some unexpected student combinations.”

“Come on! Everyone get your hands in the air! It’s time for an arena-pumping Yuuei battle royal! Let me hear you scream!” Yamada drew out the last word. “Okay, all you first years, I hope you’re happy with your chosen teams. Let’s get this party started! One final countdown before the game starts! Three, two, one…”

“Begin!” Midnight shouted.

The other teams surged towards them. “Kacchan?”

“Right!” At Bakugo’s orders, they started moving, but the ground beneath their feet turned to a deep sucking mud. With all their weight, they were up to their knees before the pair activated the hover boots. Kirishima was struggling to stay above mid-thigh.

“Red boy, the jetpack!’ Mei shouted.

“Oh, right!” He hit the button and a burst of warm air sent them skyward.

Bakugo clung to his shoulders growling. “Nice try!” He swatted an attack away. Izuku realized it was Jiro as she retracted her ear jacks.

“Watch the landing!” Mei called as Kirishima let off the buttons. Most of the team let out an ‘oof’ as they connected with the ground. “So, what do you think of my babies? Aren’t they just precious? Genius can be manufactured, you know!”

“They don’t suck,” Bakugo said sitting back up.

Mei made a pouting face. “Of course not: they blow, that’s how jet packs work.”

Izuku chuckled as they circled around Fukami and Asuka. “He means: your babies are amazing. Excellent mobility, Mei darling.”

“Not even two minutes in and it’s already a free-for-all!” Yamada’s voice rang out.

“Watch out behind you,” Fukami called to Izuku, pointing to Shoji with Asui and Mineta cloaked under his massive arms. She swiped their headband with a tentacle as she passed.

On the other side was a team of class 1-B students. The rider had survived the robot rumble the same way Kirishima had, by hardening. Which meant his team wasn’t using him to their full advantage. If he activated his quirk …

“Toward the B-listers!” Izuku shouted. “He’s dead weight if you blast him!”

Bakugo’s weight shifted as he dodged Asui’s long tongue. He popped off a blast at the offending appendage. The team listed sideways. “Shitty Hair, move it!”

The tongue took several more swipes at his headband until he managed to nail it with a direct hit. “Ow!”

“Right, time to blast this dime store knockoff!” Bakugo wiped the sweat from one hand onto the other and braced himself on Kirishima’s shoulder. As they passed the enemy team he let off a blast that was angled up. His fingers grazed the opposing team’s headband. It came up but not off; as it was caught on the rider’s now steel hair. The horses buckled under the weight, but they kept ahold of their leader.

Izuku and Bakugo took turns ordering the team this way and that. Izuku favored the use of the jet pack and Fukami for cover, while Bakugo preferred to blast anyone who dared to get close.

 

“It’s been seven minutes so let’s get those rankings thrown up on the screen,” Yamada called. There was a brief strangled noise when he saw the results. Half of the teams had zero points. “Hold on here. This is an unexpected turn! Other than Bakugo, Class 1-A’s not doing so hot.”

They were still in first, but the next three places were held by Class 1-B, followed by Todoroki’s team, with their original six-hundred and fifteen points, and Fukami and Asuka with a paltry total of three-hundred and twenty for their two headbands.

The culprits were mainly two teams of class 1-B. One was headed by a blond boy, and the other a red-haired girl. The blond was coordinating with the other 1-B teams while the redhead was acting independently. 

Dodging and weaving around the competition the team fell into an easy rhythm. Bakugo would tilt when he wanted them to move in a particular direction. Hovering meant that Mei and Izuku could easily be dragged around if they weren’t paying attention. This let the pair concentrate on the rear and their respective flanks.

As such, they were prepared for Monama’s rear assault when the trio with the tall metal-looking guy charged their front. Bakugo warded him off with a few light blasts. Monama’s fingers nearly grazed Bakugo’s hair, but his hand was viscously smashed between the two capsule launchers. Izuku angled his arm to aim at Monama. Where Mei’s was still set up with the grappling hook, his was loaded with cheap expanding foam. It wasn’t strong enough to immobilize an opponent, but it was perfect for harassing a rider.

“Think you’re tough?” Bakugo shouted. “Bring it!”

Monama sputtered and tried to wipe the quickly hardening foam away. “That’s what I would expect from someone that caused more damage than the villain attacking them.”

Bakugo growled and whipped his head around. “Keep talking asshole, I fucking dare you.”

“What’s he on about?” Mei asked.

“Sludge villain attack about a year ago, it took All Might himself showing up to save Kacchan.”

“What’s it like to always need other people to save you?”

“Die!” Bakugo lunged at him.

Monama laughed as he easily blocked the clumsy attack. Pushing Bakugo’s hand to one side he brought the other up and let off a small explosion right over his ear. It was supposed to disorientate him but the noise-cancelling communicator did its job. Still, Bakugo was overextended and the headband was snatched by Monama’s front horse. “Wow. I see why you really like this quirk.”

“He’s got your quirk!”

“The ten mil!”

He swiped Kirishima’s hair as Bakugo righted himself. He managed to activate Kirishima’s quirk a split second before Bakugo blasted him again.

“You both have impressive powers, but I think you’ll agree that mine is better,” Monama said as he settled the points around his neck.

“Huh, mine too?”

Bakugo put it together just as fast as Izuku did. “Bastard. His quirk, he can copy other powers.”

“So, even an idiot could figure it out.”

Mei and Izuku jerked the team to the left. “Sorry.” A glob of a glue-like substance hit their former position.

“It’s fine,” Bakugo snarled. “If the only way they can compete is to team up, then let them. It’s not against the rules.”

Monama frowned. “You’re one to talk.”

There was a rush of feathers and a rapid slap of tentacles to their right as Fukami and Asuka took on the glue team. “Yeah,” Bakugo said smugly. “’Coz I’m doing it right.” 

He leaped off their arms with a quick blast of his quirk.

“Hey! Don’t just go flying off on your own!” Kirishima shouted.

The warning allowed one of Monama’s teammates to create a solid shield of air. Bakugo landed on it easily. He punched the center of it. It warbled and flexed like plastic.

“You look pretty stupid fighting with air,” Monama remarked.

Bakugo reared back and put his fist through the solid air. As he pulled back he grabbed all of the stolen headbands that Monama had around his neck. He wondered for a second if he’d be forced to return them if he hit the ground.

The rough rubber surface never came up to meet him. Bakugo found himself wrapped in a pair of powerful, but gentle, tentacles.

“Pay the lady!” Izuku shouted as he was placed on top of them once more.

Bakugo extracted their headband and shoved the rest at Fukami. “Thanks.”

“A pleasure.” She passed the bands to Asuka who cackled madly.

“I told you to warn us before you jump!” Izuku scolded.

“Whatever."

"This means we’re still in first!” Kirishima cheered.

“We’re not done!” Bakugo growled. “We’re going to be the indisputable champions of the game. Brace yourselves.”

With a quick shift of their arms, the team let him know they were ready for whatever he had in mind. Bakugo tightened his grip with his legs and aimed his arms behind them. The blast rocketed them forward. Kirishima hardened as another circle of solid air formed in front of them. They smashed through it. The shards hadn’t even hit the ground when Bakugo’s fist closed around Monama’s headband.

 

The redhead had swiped his headband. Shinso growled. He ordered his team after them. The thralls complied without hesitation.

“No hard feelings,” she called.

“I'm surprised you haven’t joined your classmates’ strategy.”

“It’s just …” She went slack and Shinso nabbed a handful of headbands as his team trundled past.

“No hard feelings," he muttered. glancing around for his next target, he shouted, "What works?”

The echo of “Teamwork,” in the distance gave him another set of headbands.

 

“And now we’ve reached the halfway point of the game,” Yamada announced.

Izuku wondered if Uraraka was the best choice for rider for her team, as they dodged Dark Shadow and Sero’s tape. Both would have benefited greatly from the position. Her fiery spirit was undeniable, but all she could do was lighten the group. That could be accomplished from anywhere.

He decided that Sero would have been his choice for rider in that group as Tokoyami and Dark Shadow were herding them rather effectively from the front. Dark Shadow rubbed its face affectionately against Izuku’s back. "Careful, pretty bird."

It snapped at Bakugo when he blasted it to keep from being forced out of bounds. “Up,” he decided.

The short leap sent them over the other team, narrowly being missed by Sero’s tape and confirming Izuku’s assessment of the placement. The jet pack sputtered ominously as they landed.

“I’ll be taking that now,” came Todoroki’s smooth emotionless voice.

Izuku smiled and laughed to cover the wave of guilt and nausea that hit him. He could see some of the lasting effects the USJ attack had had on each of them. Yaoyorozu had heavily insulated the team. Across Iida’s shoulders, there was a thick insulated pad, as well as wraps around both of Kaminari’s wrists and Todoroki’s feet. Kaminari and Yaoyorozu were wearing insolated rollerblades. The sleeves were torn off her top, which was open to allow for easy creation.

Kaminari let go of Todoroki’s foot to let off charges.

Iida was faster now that his new exhaust had grown in, but he still wasn’t used to it.

Todoroki was careful to only encase people up to their ankles, which made it easier to break out.

“I thought he’d hold off longer,” Izuku admitted.

“Never mind,” Bakugo growled. “I’ll make him regret messing with us.”

“Crap, guys, everybody’s after us!” Kirishima shouted.

“Kaminari!” Todoroki snapped.

“On it!”

Yaoyorozu produced a grounding rod and an insulated blanket. “Ready!”

“Twelve hundred volts!”

The exchange gave the team ample warning and they were able to make a short jump to avoid the shock and subsequent freezing. Most of the other teams weren’t so lucky, but the rough landing slammed Bakugo into the jet pack. 

“Kacchan!”

“I’m fine!”

“My baby!” Mei whined as it sparked ominously.

“Less than six minutes left, time to act. Sorry, but there’s no other way,” Todoroki called as his team ran past them. “I might as well take these.” He held up several headbands he had snatched.

“Would you look at that? He’s stopped all those teams cold in their tracks!” Yamada called out.

“But only after Kaminari had immobilized the students using his electricity. In the obstacle course, he was surprised by how many people avoided his attack. He’s adapting his strategy.” Aizawa’s gruff voice still managed to sound muffled even over the speakers.

“Nice commentary!” Yamada said enthusiastically.

Todoroki created an arcing wall of ice, isolating the two teams.

“Over the ice!” Bakugo shouted. “We can’t let them box us in!”

“We only have to dodge them for now,” Izuku countered. “And Kaminari is running out of steam.”

Bakugo growled at him. “The boots will keep you and Dreadlocks from slipping. Kirishima can use his hardening to smash handholds into the ice; it’s not that dangerous. I can watch our back. But if we let them breathe …”

“They’ll come up with a game plan too,” Izuku relented. The team was tugged to the right by Kirishima, as he used his hardening to insulate against a weak attack by Kaminari. “If we can get a short burst from the pack…”

“Not advisable,” Mei said. “It’s still warm.”

“There’s a dip directly behind Todoroki. If we ramp up the boots can we get up to it?” Kirishima asked.

“That would be on you,” Mei said. “The boots can offset our weight if you can climb it.”

“I’m gonna put this loser in last place. Come on!” Bakugo directed them forward.

Mei and Izuku turned up their boots as Kirishima surged forward.

“Keep left!” Izuku shouted as a blast of ice rushed towards them.

Bakugo lunged at Todoroki as they neared. The sudden jolt destabilized Todoroki’s team as he sent ice at them from below Iida while Kaminari released his foot to ward Bakugo off with a burst of static. Iida slipped, falling to a knee, while Todoroki barely held on, unable to defend his headband.

“Hold on tight,” Kirishima instructed. He activated his hardening quirk and punched a few cracks in the ice before scrambling up it.

They weren’t as quick as they would have liked. Behind them, they heard Iida shout, “Recipro Burst!” He and his team flew by them at dizzying speed. Iida bounced up the wall with a few quick leaps.

Bakugo shouted, “Bastard!” as one of their headbands came off in Todoroki’s hand. He wasn’t about to let that slide. “Dreadlocks, can that grapple thing catch a person?”

“If we secure the line to you, we could reel you back in.”

“Get it done.”

Mie pulled out a length of the rope and tied it around his waist while he checked that the ten million was still there. “It won’t be comfortable,” she said before he launched himself into the air.

“The game is almost over!” Yamada shouted. “Time for a countdown!”

Ten seconds.

Everyone had broken free from the earlier ice and were swarming on the two teams.

Nine seconds.

“Who’s got the points?” Shinso shouted.

“Midoriya!” Fukami replied smacking a two-man team from class 1-B away.

Eight seconds.

Bakugo corrected his trajectory with a small blast.

Seven seconds.

Asui’s tongue and Jiro’s ear-jacks sped towards him.

Six seconds.

A mass of thorny vines rose up. Again Izuku couldn’t help but wonder at the hubris that placed an omni-directional quirk in any position but rider.

Five.

Izuku fired off a foam capsule into the vines.

Four.

Monama yanked the headbands from his two cadet teams at the same time Bakugo lit the foam.

Three.

Bakugo course corrected again. Asuka snagged Asui’s tongue and Jiro’s ear-jacks in his talons. “Not today, ladies!”

Two.

Todoroki’s team was retreating as fast as Iida could without his quirk.

One.

Todoroki swiped at Bakugo with his left arm. The flames licking along his arm ignited the sweat on Bakugo’s outstretched hands, blowing him backward.

“Times up!” Yamada yelled.

Bakugo was retracted smoothly. “Damn it! I almost had him!”

“We won?”

“We won!” Mei confirmed.

“We won, Kacchan!”

“Like there was ever any doubt,” he snapped jumping down.

“Now, let’s take a look at who our top four teams are!” Yamada announced.  “In first place: Team Bakugo! In second place: Team Todoroki! In third place: Team Tetsu… Wait! It’s team Shinso! When did they rack up so many points? And in fourth place is Team Asuka! These four valiant teams will advance on to the final round!” Yamada paused to let the results sink in. “Now, let’s take an hour lunch break before we start the afternoon festivities! See ya soon.” He didn’t click the microphone off before turning to his partner and saying, “Hey, Eraserhead, let’s grab some food.”

“I’m taking a nap.”

Yamada sighed and flipped the switch.

 

As the students wandered out of the stadium, Todoroki grabbed Bakugo and pulled him aside. Izuku followed. Standing just inside the student and faculty entrance, he stared at them both for a long moment.

“You brought us here, now what?” Izuku asked.

“I brought him here,” Todoroki corrected.

“You want him here because I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugo said. “But he does, so spill, Icy-hot.”

“Behave,” Izuku said firmly. He gave Bakugo a soft tap on the shoulder with his fist.

“Make me.”

“I told you to make friends. You got one. If you don’t play nice I’ll tell Auntie Mitsuki that you’re having a hard time socializing.”

“That’s low, even for you.”

“I wanna hear what he has to say,” Izuku pointed out.

“Fine, whatever. Just hurry it up so we can go eat.”

“I was overwhelmed and it made me break the promise I made to myself a long time ago.” Todoroki looked down as he continued, “Bakugo, what is All Might to you?”

“Geez. It’s no big secret. He saved me from that sludge villain, last year. Deku, too. I guess the thing got around. Anyway, when Deku wound up in the hospital he took interest in us. Before the entrance exam, he found a bit of time to give us some training.” Bakugo smiled and looked down. “Aizawa doesn’t even work us that hard.”

“I see,” Todoroki replied. “My father is the hero Endeavor. You must have heard of him, which means that you’re aware that he’s the number two hero. So if you’re connected to the number one hero, All Might, in some way, that would mean that I have even more reason to beat you.” Todoroki paused, considering his next words carefully, “My old man’s ambitious. He aims for the top. He used his power to make a name for himself as a hero. But he was never able to best All Might, so, the symbol of peace is living proof of his failure. He’s still at it though, trying to take down All Might. One way or another.”

Izuku listened, though he was already extrapolating ahead of Todoroki’s words and getting a very grim picture of the other boy’s life.

“What’s this daddy issue bullshit got to do with me?” Bakugo growled.

“Hush, Kacchan,” Izuku said. “Go on, we’re listening even if Kacchan is a little impatient to get to the part where we can help.”

“Help?” Todoroki echoed.

“Of course,” Izuku said, a broad smile settling across his face. “We might not be able to fix everything but we can help.”

“Have you ever heard of quirk marriages?” Todoroki asked them. When both boy’s nodded gravely he continued, “My father paid my mother’s relatives to get his hands on her quirk. He has not only a rich history of accomplishments, but plenty of money to throw at his problems. Now, he’s raising me to usurp All Might. It’s so annoying. I refuse to be a tool for that scumbag.”

“He’s an idiot,” Izuku said shaking his head. “All Might is going to retire before we even graduate. But more than that, if any of us surpass him he’d be so fucking proud of us. Each generation doing better than the last is literally the point of existing.”

Todoroki cocked his head.

“What a fucking loser,” Bakugo piped up. “If he’s too much of a pussy to beat All Might himself he should just give up. Your accomplishments are yours, not his.”

“The reason I picked a fight with you was to show my old man what I was capable of doing without having to rely on his damned fire quirk. You see, I’m going to show him that I reject his power and I can take first place without using it.”

“You can try,” Bakugo said smugly. “I’ll make you earn it.”

“No matter how fiercely you come at me in the future I will defeat you using only my right side. I can assure you of that.”

“Um… Not that I don’t think you’d do well without it, but it’s not a good idea to handicap yourself,” Izuku began. “Your ice is very impressive, and you could rely solely on it, but I don’t think that’s going to be very emotionally satisfying for you.”

Todoroki narrowed his eyes.

“You want to be a hero. You want to be the best. You wouldn’t try so hard if you didn’t. But, he wants those things too, so even if you’re not using your fire it’s a token rebellion at best. And you used your flames when push came to shove. If you really want to piss him off you need a better strategy.”

“And you’ve got one?”

“The only metric tracked by the hero commission that All Might beats Endeavor in, consistently and by a statistically significant margin, is popularity. This is tracked through a combination of polling and merchandise sales.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“Todoroki-kun needs good PR,” Izuku said simply. “Like you.”

“Whatever,” Bakugo growled. “I’m going to get food.”

“Save us some seats?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They were quiet as Bakugo walked away, but as soon as he was out of earshot, Todoroki said, “In every memory of my mother, I only see her crying. I remember she called my left side unbearable before she poured boiling water on my face.”

“Are you safe at home?”

“What?”

“You implied that Endeavor is abusive, and stated outright that your mother is. I need to know that you’re safe.”

“My mother’s not abusive. He drove her to it.”

“Hate him all you want, he sounds like he deserves it, but when she chose to hurt you instead of, I don’t know, stabbing him in his sleep or taking you and running way, she lost any potential sympathy she could have gotten out of me. It’s like if when Kacchan told me to kill myself if I’d have gone home and smacked my mom around.” Izuku paused. He fidgeted awkwardly for a moment before continuing. “Besides I read up on a lot of abuse and bullying papers when I got out of the hospital; trying to find a healthy coping mechanism. And the papers all say the same thing: the escalation is slow. It’s inch by inch so the bad behavior becomes normal in the mind of the victim, and to not arouse suspicion in bystanders.”

“You don’t think he’s at fault,” Todoroki said accusingly.

“I think he’s responsible for his words and actions. I think Endeavor made your home a living nightmare for everyone in it. I think your mother responded poorly and took it out on you. That’s unacceptable. You were a little kid. It’s her job to protect you and she not only failed but then hurt you herself.”

“I… mom’s in the hospital. She has been since,” he put his hand over his scared eye, “the incident.”

Izuku slowly and obviously moved into Todoroki’s personal space. He gently wrapped his arms around the other boy. “Are you safe around Endeavor?”

“Yeah, it’s mostly over-training. Besides, now that I’m in Yuuei, he leaves my training to them.”

“That’s good. Now, if you feel safe I know a great way to piss him off…”

 

“Yo. Long time no see. Let’s catch up, Endeavor,” Yagi called from the top of the stairs.

“All Might,” the flame hero growled turning to glare at him over his shoulder.

“I haven’t talked to you since that press conference ten years ago. It’s been a while. I saw you and figured I’d say hi.”

“Did you, now?” he sneered. “Well, then if that’s all you wanted to do, we’re done.” Endeavor turned and began down the stairs again, muttering to himself, “Chatting like we’re old friends. What a joke.”

Yagi leaped up, unwilling to let him go without an answer to the Yuuei staff’s suspicions. He flipped over Endeavor, laughing. Landing with his arms out and facing away from the man, he turned dramatically. “Come on why the cold shoulder?” When Endeavor merely growled in response, he pressed on, “You should be thrilled. After all, your son’s doing very well out there; just using half his power. You must be a great teacher.”

“Are you implying something?”

“Should I be?” Yagi knew it was dangerous territory but he was the only one that could get away with it. Physically, politically, or professionally All Might was the only name that could stand against Endeavor.

“I resent your insinuation,” Endeavor growled and he pushed passed Yagi.

“Resent or resemble,” Yagi laughed. He put his pinky in his ear as if cleaning it. “I don’t hear as well as I used to, in my old age.”

“Let me assure you of one thing, All Might, that kid of mine will beat you someday. I’ll make sure of it. That’s why I made him.”

“You did what?” Yagi was horrified.

“He’s in a rebellious phase right now, but he will take your place. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Endeavor,” he said dropping the bravado from his voice, “I look forward to all my students surpassing me one day. But if you’ve hurt that boy, I …” He moved into Endeavor’s personal space. Yagi towered nearly a foot over the other hero. “I swear to god I will end your career. Nothing is more important than the well-being of these children. As a parent, you should know that.”

“Are you really threatening me?”

“That depends entirely on if you’ve abused your son, doesn’t it?” Yagi shoulder-checked Endeavor as he pushed by to head down the stairs. “It won’t mean anything for you if he surpasses me. His entire generation will surpass us old-timers. You want the number one spot so bad? It’s yours. I’m announcing my retirement at the next Billboard Chart. Congratulations, Number One.”

He left Endeavor on the stairs alternating between shock and seething rage. Yagi was angry. At Endeavor for abusing his son. At himself for losing his temper and possibly making it worse. At society for allowing this kind of thing to happen. What was the point of being a hero if you couldn’t save someone when they needed you? He felt so useless.

He chuckled to himself. Young Midoriya would let him have it for thoughts like that. Maybe the boy would have some insight into this problem. He should peek in on him during the lunch break.

Chapter 31: It's All Fun and Games

Yamada’s arms were loaded but so far, the trek back to the booth had been an easy one. His colleagues knew he was grabbing food and drinks for two and were more than happy to get doors for him. He had ducked out of the stairwell two floors early with Matsushita as they both felt it prudent to avoid the confrontation between All Might and Endeavor.

“That was tense,” Matsushita said, slowly letting the door close now that the conversation was over.

“Yeah,” Yamada agreed. “I gotta let Sho know.”

Matsushita peered through the window to watch for the other two heroes. Thankfully, All Might came down the stairs, scowling. He exited on their floor and after waiting a moment deflated. “I could have handled that better.”

The trio listened to Endeavor stomp down the stairs. They gave him a few extra minutes to be sure before reentering the stairwell.

“Hey, All Might, can you help Mic carry this up to Aizawa? I need to get back to my post.”

“Uh, yeah, of course.”

The silence between the two was a little awkward until Yamada finally broke it. “Todoroki-kun will be fine, I’m sure. Endeavor knows we’ve noticed things so he’ll be careful not to further raise our suspicions.”

“I hope so.”

The pair made it up to the announcer’s booth in a more comfortable silence after that. Yamada set the yakisoba on the console with two sets of disposable chopsticks. He placed an order of takoyaki and a wax paper-wrapped taiyaki in front of Aizawa with a large bottle of water and an iced coffee. He set his side up with a tall bucket of fried chicken, a chocolate-covered banana that was liberally doused with sprinkles, a matching bottle of water, and an iced coffee that was more whipped cream than anything.

“Hey, Sho. I got us food,” Yamada said softly.  When Aizawa cracked one eye open to peer at the offering he added, “Also, Yagi, well, All Might, really, may have confronted Endeavor about the Todoroki situation.”

“May have?” Aizawa asked icily as Yagi tried to quietly back out of the room.

“I, uh, I didn’t handle it as well as I could have,” Yagi said apologetically. “But you didn’t see his face. I know Mic and Snipe overheard, but, the man is … he makes my skin crawl.”

“It was bad, Sho. He basically confirmed the quirk mirage rumors. He said he made his son. Made him. To surpass All Might. Not raised. Made.” Yamada flopped down in his seat. “God, that poor kid.”

“I also may have announced my retirement at him.”

Aizawa snorted. “With any luck that’ll keep him off Todoroki. But we’ll keep a closer eye on him. He’s already meeting bi-weekly with Ryo; so there’s that.” Aizawa made a shooing motion at Yagi. “So, just try not to make things any worse, okay?”

“Sorry,” the tall man mumbled as he slunk out the door.

“Don’t be sorry, be better,” Aizawa called after him.

“Harsh, Sho,” Yamada said, plunging the accompanying toothpick into one of the takoyaki and offering it to him. “He’s going to tear himself up over this. He doesn’t need you adding to that.”

Aizawa took the bite rather than replying. The salty-fried goodness practically melted in his mouth. Aizawa let out a little pleased noise. “He needs to learn. Abusers take it out on their victims when confronted. If some hurt feelings are what it takes to keep him from making that mistake again, then so be it. I’ll be the bad guy. As usual.”

“Sho, babe, just let him know you’re not mad at him, later, okay?”

Aizawa huffed and accepted another bite. “Yeah, okay. If you think the lesson will stick.”

“Yeah, here, I’ll email him a link to the Abuse PDF.”

“That’s worthless.”

“I know, I know, but it's official policy, and this way we know he’s aware of it,” Yamada agreed. “He was sooo cool, though. I didn’t wanna say in front of him, mixed messages and all, but Endeavor asked if he was threatening him and All Might was like, ‘That depends on if you abused your son, doesn’t it?’ God, it sent shivers down my spine!”

“Must have been quite the show,” Aizawa said dryly.

Yamada stuck another takoyaki in his face. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed, Sho.”

“Sounds like he handled it as well as could be expected,” he relented.

 

“Momo-chan’s scars are so pretty!” Toga squealed.

“Stray’s coordination with those other teams was quite impressive,” Kurogiri said.

“Like they talked it over well in advance,” Tomura agreed.

“But how could they? They didn’t know what the events would be.”

“They’ve seen the sports festival in previous years. It would be nothing for Stray to analyze the pattern. A free-for-all all, a team event, one on one fights. Every year is the same with a new coat of paint,” Kurogiri pointed out.

“So they planned it, but in the abstract?”

“It’s as simple as deciding that Stray and Shinso were the class’ priority. Or to work together if they got into the second round,” Kurogiri explained. “Even a rudimentary battle plan was more than most teams had.”

“Some of the other teams were working together, too.”

“And then they were betrayed. Stray clearly stuck to his arrangement, whatever it may have been.”

               

Yagi found Izuku with most of 1-A and half of 1-C on the lawn separated from the festival stalls by a row of trees. They were clustered around three large picnic blankets, sharing food freely. Izuku had a pair of bento boxes in front of him, both full to bursting with tasty treats.

Kaminari and Mineta approached the group cautiously. “Hey, Yaoyorozu, Jiro…” Kaminari’s eyes lingered on Yaoyorozu’s arms. “Gah, I can’t, man, it would be mean.”

Mineta gapped at him in horror.

“Can’t what?” Jiro asked.

“We were gonna try to trick you girls into wearing the cheerleading uniforms, but I can’t go through with it. It would be embarrassing for you.”

“Because of my scars,” Yaoyorozu said softly, at the same time Iida scolded, “That kind of behavior is an embarrassment to the whole class.”

“No, no, it’s not that at all, the outfits are skimpy – it would embarrass Jiro too; and the other girls.” He flailed his hands defensively.

“You really mean that?”

“Yeah, your scars don’t detract from your cuteness at all, and the only things I don’t like about them are that you got hurt, and I caused it.”

“Inui-sensei said to put the blame where it belongs: on the villains,” Yaoyorozu said.

“All right you two, come sit with us,” Jiro said. “I’m glad you changed your mind. Something like that would be really mean, especially in front of these crowds."

“That’s very mature of all of you,” Yagi said.

“All Might!” most of the students greeted him in unison as they turned their attention to him.

Izuku beamed up at him from where he was talking with Todoroki. “Hey! Have you had lunch yet?”

“I, uh, no. I wanted to talk to you for a moment if that’s okay,” he replied.

“If it’s not private, sure, but otherwise it’ll have to wait, we’re strategizing for the next round.” Izuku’s warm smile didn’t waver. If anything, it was sunnier with each word.

Yagi chuckled. “I ran into Todoroki-kun’s father on the way down here. I may have put my foot in my mouth.”

“Oh, no,” Izuku said in what was clearly a sarcastic tone.

Yagi arched his eyebrow at the boy.

“We respect the number two hero, and place a high value on his feelings and opinions.”

“Wow,” Bakugo said. “I’ve never heard someone say ‘F you’ so hard without actually swearing.”

“Not even Auntie Mitsuki?” Izuku asked, awe seeping into his voice. Bakugo shook his head. “Wow.”

“So how are you kids strategizing if you don’t know who your opponents will be, and you’re all sitting together?”

“Not all of us,” Izuku said. “There are two mystery competitors to make a full sixteen, and most of Shinso’s team decided to be elsewhere.”

“Midoriya has purposed a thirty-second ‘no falls’ period in the first round where each participant shows off their skills without any genuine attempt to incapacitate or otherwise disqualify their opponent,” Iida offered. “After all this whole festival is about selling ourselves to the audience.”

Yagi blinked at them. “Well, yes. I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

Izuku laughed. “It’s all right, All Might. We’re not nearly as cynical as that makes us sound. It’s mostly for if Kacchan, Shinso, or I face Todoroki-kun in the first round. We have a special message for his father. So, you don’t need to worry about whatever you said upsetting him. He’s not going to care after this.” Izuku’s warm and sunny grin turned swiftly cold and dark.

Yagi shuddered and blinked. In that space, Izuku was all warmth and light again as if his expression had never changed.

Iida gave a nervous chuckle, and Kirishima began singing, “Baby shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo.”  Kaminari, Ashido, Ono, Asuka, and Hoshino joined him, as Izuku plated up a small saucer for Yagi. Izuku’s hand nearly faltered as he added a piece of Kurogiri’s katsudon. He then paired it with the egg roll he had made, a pot sticker from his mother, and some mixed tempura he, Toga, and Tomura had made the night before. It gave Izuku a dark little thrill when he thought about it.

“Ah, thank you, Midoriya, my boy.”

“No problem, All Might,” Izuku said, biting into a piece of katsudon of his own. “Oh, hey, we should get some selfies with you! You just eat and smile; we can do the leg work!”

Yagi chuckled and nodded his consent. He wasn’t sure how it would work at first, but the teens were quick to organize. They sat next to him in groups of two and three with food and drink of their own. In a matter of minutes, you’d think he spent the entire afternoon with them, talking, laughing, and celebrating.

Izuku was dragged into a good many of the pictures. He, in turn, dragged Bakugo and Todoroki in for a few. Yagi put his arm around Bakugo’s shoulders. The simple gesture caused the collected students to chatter excitedly about how brave their favorite hero was, and how jealous they were.

“Why be jealous?” Izuku asked. “Just go in for a hug. Kacchan can’t kill you all.”

Kaminari and Ashido went in for hugs while he was still trapped beside Yagi. The laughter and antics were infectious. Yagi was relaxed and relieved as he made his excuses and parted from the group.

 

Once again gathered in the arena, the students chatted idly as they waited for Midnight to start officiating. “Come closer and draw lots to see who you’re up against. Then enjoy the pleasure of the recreational games before we start. The sixteen finalists have the option of participating in those activities or sitting out to prepare for battle. I’m sure you all want to conserve your stamina.” She moved to head down the steps. “I’ll start with the first-place team.”

Ojio raised his hand. His eyes were fixed on the ground as he stammered, “Uh, um. Excuse me. Sorry, but I’m withdrawing.”

There were many shocked gasps and Iida said, “But this is a rare chance for you to get scouted.”

Lowering his hand he explained, “It just wouldn’t be right. I barely remember anything from the Cavalry Battle until the very end of it. I think it was that guy’s quirk.”

“Shitty Zombie,” Bakugo supplied. “Don’t wuss out on account of him.”

“I know this is a great opportunity. I wish I could take advantage of it but my conscience won’t let me.”

Shinso frowned. “Don’t take it so hard. You did great out there.”

Ojiro glared at him. “Everyone gave their all in round two, but I was just your puppet. No way, I don’t want to advance if I don’t even know how I got here. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Just kill it in the next round and prove that you deserve to be here!” Toru encouraged.

“You don’t get it. It’s about my pride, here. I’m not going to give that up.”

“You’re the one not getting it,” Shinso growled. “Swallow your pride and do better in the next round. If you throw this opportunity away now, you might never get another chance.”

Suddenly, a short plump boy spoke up, “Nirengeki Shoda from class 1-B. I think I should withdraw for the exact same reason. Regardless of how strong I am, this isn’t how I wanted to get here. It would go against the values of the festival to advance without earning my spot.”

“Listen to these guys,” Kirishima said. “They’re so manly.”

Aoyama rubbed his stomach and said, “The same for moi!”

Midnight stared down at them her eyes hard and unreadable. “This kind of talk is incredibly naïve, my boys.” She cracked her scourge. “That turns me on! Shoda, Ojiro, Aoyama! You’re withdrawn.” She gave another lascivious lick of her lips. “Now, we were already going to move up two students from the fifth-place team. Congratulations girls it looks like you’re all in!”

“Actually,” the redhead started. “We were frozen most of the time. Honestly, we barely did anything in the cavalry battle. Isn’t that right?” She turned to check in with her team. When they all nodded she said, “You should choose the team that kept fighting the whole time, team Tetsutetsu.”

“Kendo!”

“I’m not doing this as a favor. It’s just fair.”

Izuku wondered if he had spent too much time with the League of Villains because this all sounded less ‘fair’ and more stupid to him. The point was to capture or hold on to your points. They had followed the rules. It was fair that they advanced based on that.

“Cowards,” Bakugo muttered beside him.

He cocked his head. That was an interesting take. Between Bakugo and Todoroki it was unlikely that anyone else was going to win if he assessed based on quirks alone. There really wasn’t a lot of evidence from class 1-B that they had the drive to overcome that disadvantage; between them being content with merely passing the Obstacle Course and half of them not taking the Calvary Battle seriously.

Izuku smirked. “At least Tetsutetsu has some fighting spirit. He can make one of us look good as we beat him.”

“Now we need one member from the next team to round out our bracket!”

Monama was shoved forward, unceremoniously.

“Very well! Step up to draw lots!”

Bakugo went first, getting the third slot. He would be fighting in the second match. The rest quickly followed. Izuku was pleased that he wasn’t in the same half as Bakugo and that either he or Shinso would be facing Todoroki in the semi-finals. This meant that their plan would be easy enough to pull off. Moreover, if by some miracle Todoroki didn’t make it that far, well, his father would likely disinherit him. It was a win-win.

“Before the battles begin, it’s time for some pulse-pounding side games!” Yamada shouted.

The scavenger hunt was a great way to interact with the first few rows of the audience. Each participant grabbed a card with an item on it and then without leaving the arena had to find it. Some of them were easy – bag, textbook – some of them were hard – cat – and others were insulting to the object – back fat, perverse person – but the students made it fun through the sheer force of their enthusiasm.

Izuku made a point of teaming up with Iida for the giant ball roll. While the pair lost to both Fukami and an all-girl team from class 1-B, they crossed the finish line laughing and chanting, “What works? Teamwork!”

Shoji won the tug-o-war. Iida, Ojiro, Aki, and Suzuki narrowly beat out Tsunotori, Shishida, Kamakiri, and Tokage in the relay race. Izuku won the bean bag toss handily. A pair of support course students won the three-legged race. Everyone had fun and calmed their nerves.

 

Mei couldn’t believe how kind and clever her darling Izuku was. He convinced most of the participants to allow a thirty-second display window for her and even framed it as beneficial to them. There had only been a one in three chance of her not getting an opponent from their little alliance. Even better, not only was hers the first match but it was against someone else that would rely heavily on items.

After the two girls ascended the two flights of stairs that put the twenty-six by fifteen-meter ring level with the first row of seats, Midnight announced the start of the match.

Mei flipped the microphone on her headset down as Yaoyorozu began creating several items. “As you have no doubt seen, my babies offer excellent mobility and versatility.” Her voice overrode the speaker system in a clear display of skill and ingenuity. “The Capsule Launcher Mark II, for instance, can be loaded with twenty-four seven-point-six-two millimeter cartridges in two cylinders, or a grappling rig.” She casually aimed the Capsule Launcher over her shoulder and launched an expanding foam capsule at Yaoyorozu.

It flew straight at her and struck the large, carbon fiber shield she had created. Yaoyorozu smiled, easily holding the lightweight foam block.

Mei fired another shot, and said, “See how easy it is to switch between the two cylinders and two types of ammo?” The second shot hit right on target as well. “This two-part expanding foam sets in seconds becomes as hard as steel, and is fireproof once dry.”

The shield thudded to the ground, signaling that Yaoyorozu had moved on to the next step. When she stood, she fired an odd-looking gun at Mei, entangling her in a net.

 “Oh, clever,” Mei commented as the backpack she was wearing sprouted two telescopic poles, keeping her upright. “My hydraulic attachments are perfect for evasion, and getting out of a bind.” The net shredded as the poles jerked her to the right just in time to dodge a second shot, illustrating, to those in the know, that the first hit was choreographed. “Not only that but it has sensors in every direction.”

Yaoyorozu quickly produced a batch of flash-bang grenades. She slipped one into her pocket and threw the rest at Mei in ones and twos.

“With a noise-canceling communicator and light-filtration goggles that also provide a three-hundred-and-sixty degree field of vision, alterations in sensory input, even an onslaught like this, are mitigated to the point of being negligible.”

With that, the thirty seconds was over. Both girls switch gears. Yaoyorozu ducked back behind the block of foam and created a catapult and a small grapple gun. Mei began pitching her hover boots while dodging the random assortment of ammo that was being launched at her.

Yaoyorozu launched a metal net at her. Mei dodged, only to run into the grapple hook. It snagged her belt and knocked the wind out of her. Mei was dragged to the ground. Yaoyorozu sprinted up to her, creating a set of handcuffs as she did.

Mei spun around, aiming to kick her. Ducking under the strike, Yaoyorozu snapped one cuff around Mei’s ankle and yanked her off balance. When the telescopic poles corrected automatically she was able to reach Mei’s goggles to pull them off. Covering her own eyes, Yaoyorozu tossed the leftover flash bang.

Mei squawked, covering her face. Yaoyorozu grabbed the handcuff again. She rolled under the poles and stood, bringing the leg up. Mei flailed as Yaoyorozu grabbed her opposite arm and secured it with the handcuff.

“Ow!” Mei did not topple to the ground. The telescopic poles kept her upright. Her other hand reached around a flipped a switch on the backpack. “This is only a minor setback! The hydraulic attachments pack includes a small cutting torch, for just such an occasion!”

Yaoyorozu quickly produced a crude set of roller skates. She tilted Mie to place them under the poles and ran at the edge of the ring. Mei fired a foam cartridge in front of them. Yaoyorozu jagged to the left, but one of the wheels was still caught by the rapidly expanding foam. Despite the rapid hardening of the thick, sticky compound that made up the second component of the foam, she was able to pull it free. As Mei fell forward, she instinctually used her free arm to brace herself. The telescopic polls readjusted rapidly to catch her.

Midnight called out, “Mei Hatsume is out of bounds! Momo Yaoyorozu is the victor!” Her hand was resting on the dark cement, not bearing any of her weight but out of bounds all the same.

“Are you okay?” Yaoyorozu asked.

“Naturally. The inner lining of the Capsule Launcher provides wrist and elbow support to help minimize strain.”

Yaoyorozu chuckled and produced a key. She released Mei while the other girl continued to extol the virtues of her babies and their safety features.

               

Monama’s plan was stupid, and Kendo couldn’t believe she’d let herself be talked into helping. He should have just used Yanagi’s quirk like they’d suggested. Not only did he have some experience with it but he could easily copy it just before entering the arena.

But no. So, here she was playing along as he tried to act ‘casual’ as he copied a quirk from class 1-A’s most powerful student.

“That support student gave your class rep a run for her money, didn’t she?” he taunted them as the match concluded. He was hanging on the wall that divided their sections.

“Shouldn’t you be in the waiting area, preparing for the next match?” the one with the speed quirk asked, chopping the air with his hand frantically.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that arrogant hothead,” he replied coolly. He raised himself higher.

Kendo stepped up behind him and whacked him with her enlarged hand, carefully knocking him over the barrier. “You should be,” Kendo snapped. “Your match is about to start, idiot!”

Monama pulled himself up and casually brushed himself off. He strode calmly up the stairs.  Kendo watched as, at the top, he brushed Todoroki’s hair with the back of his hand. He turned and smiled at her. Mission accomplished.

“Get going!” she shouted. When he took off running she muttered, “Good luck, Monama.”

 

The match started the way Izuku predicted: with a brutal right hook from Bakugo. What surprised him was the frost that blossomed on Bakugo’s arm as Monama covered his face to defend against the blast. The air between them swirled with icy mist and dying embers.

Monama flung his hand out in front of him in the hopes of producing an icy blast. Unfortunately, Todoroki’s quirk didn’t work like that. Ice formed around his right hand. Monama gritted his teeth as he dodged a series of blasts. One of them shattered the ice around his hand, as it knocked him to the ground.

Yamada requested a ruling about Monama bringing in a quirk, but when Bakugo growled, “Let the extra use it, it’s the only chance he’s got!” the adults dropped the issue. Midnight specifically pointed out Bakugo’s chivalry in letting his opponent have an advantage while clutching her scourge and wiggling her hips.

A thin sheet of ice formed under his hand as Monama began to haul himself to his feet. Grinning, he stopped and focused on the floor. Ice raced out from his hand in an arc. The longer he maintained it the thicker the ice became, as though the newly created ice pushed the old ice outward.

One would be forgiven for believing that this devastating power had Bakugo on the ropes, or that the giant wave Monama sent out was anything other than desperation. The lance of ice was as about twenty-five feet tall; just high enough to crest the safety railing it slammed into. The first row of spectators had to climb over their seats to not be injured but there was nowhere for Bakugo to escape given the ice spear was as wide as the ring.

Monama was panting from the exertion but grinning smugly. He glanced up to admire his handy work. The ice popped and cracked in the late spring sun. Suddenly, a chunk flew off the front. With a primal scream, Bakugo leaped down the mass of ice.

“Die!” Bakugo shouted as he neared Monama.

Rolling to the side, he sent out another wave of ice. Unfortunately, the power just wasn’t there and all Monama managed was a thin layer over the existing ice. The five minutes were up.

Izuku smiled as he took out his notebook to jot a few observations down as Bakugo rushed Monama. Bakugo’s explosions had always been milder in the cold, but between the heat of the blasts and the exertion of simultaneously keeping himself in the air, he was quickly shaking off the chill. Monama was pushed back a step with every other blast.

Monama lunged at Bakugo as soon as he was in range. The ploy would bear fruit even if he missed. Tucking into a shoulder roll, Monama was safe from being herded out of the ring.

Not that that had been Bakugo’s plan. He landed and stalked toward his opponent with a feral grin plastered across his face. Monama fired a few weak blasts. Monama’s fighting style was primarily Tai Chi. While the calm and fluid motions would typically help him adapt to a new quirk they did nothing to generate the sweat needed for a larger explosion.

Bakugo was just as comfortable at a distance as up close. He knew how much sweat it took to create an effective blast at any distance, and how to shape his hands to direct them. He put the heels of his palms together with his thumbs and pinkies touching. He left his fingers loose enough to keep the blast from being fatal.

Monama was thrown backward into the mass of ice. It began collapsing, raining shards of ice onto the grass below. Yamada shouted, “Oof! That’s gotta hurt!”

To add insult to injury, Bakugo taunted, “Get up. I’m just getting warmed up, come on!”

Monama moaned. His fingers twitched as he lay on the rough ice.

Bakugo sneered as he moved in. “Pathetic.”

Midnight began, “Monama is –”

A blast sent Monama rocketing into Bakugo. He barely had time to course-correct before both of them were launched out of the ring. He kicked away from the dead weight as they crested the top of their arc. Bakugo used his blasts to scrub velocity as he fell. Monama struggled to angle his hands right and propelled himself toward the ice.

He managed to land on the melting, cracking spire, but the sudden impact destroyed its remaining structural integrity. The whole thing came crashing down, taking Monama with it.

When the icy dust settled, the forming bruises, scorch marks, and blood from various cuts and gashes caused by the jagged ice contrasted vividly with the white blue surrounding him. “Monama is K.O.ed. Bakugo advances to the second round!”

Chapter 32: Until Someone Loses

The next match was delayed while the teachers cleaned up the ice and water. Izuku flagged down some business course students to get some drinks and popcorn for the class. Several of them ordered shaved ice; banana cream and papaya quickly became popular as ‘two frosty blonds.’

None of them was particularly surprised when Bakugo joined them instead of his own class.

Kirishima was facing off with the mud boy from class 1-B. The match started with Honenuki softening a straight path to Kirishima. Having experienced the mud before he calmly pulled himself out onto the hard concrete; losing both shoes in the process.

When that went soft as well, he tried lying on his back to keep from being submerged. That worked out in his favor as the mud suddenly hardened, only trapping his shins. Kirishima hardened in response. He sat up, tearing his shirt, and punched the concrete around his legs.

With his butt still on the ground and his mass increased Kirishima was swallowed up to his neck the instant it was softened. He raised his arms as he went down, enabling him to bash the concrete encasing him. Rather than free himself fully, Kirishima smashed chunks of concrete and hurled them at his opponent. Honenuki softened the concrete around him and dove under to avoid the barrage of debris.

Kirishima worked on freeing himself until the ground around him softened again. This time he was yanked deeper. It didn’t do Honenuki much good as Kirishima began wailing on him below the surface. It was hard to see what was happening in the mud, but soon the pair came up for air. Kirishima threw Honenuki onto the hard concrete and scrambled up after him.

“You had me there for a while, not gonna lie,” Kirishima said between gasps. He picked the other boy up before he could recover and pitched him out of bounds like a sack of potatoes.

Yamada hyped up the crowd despite the lackluster finish. A win was a win even if it didn’t look good on instant replay.

 

“Looks like we’ve got an unstoppable force versus an immovable object!” Yamada crowed as the next match started.

Izuku grinned as Iida ran literal circles around Tetsutetsu. The trouble was he couldn’t hit the steel juggernaut hard enough to do any damage. Bruises were blossoming on his shins from well-placed kicks, but Iida couldn’t move him. Sparks flew every time they connected.

Unfortunately, Izuku and Asuka were up next so they couldn’t watch the whole match. The pair walked together, with Bakugo in tow, until they reached the first entrance.

“Good luck,” they told each other at the same time. The pair laughed.

“Don’t fuck around, nerds,” Bakugo said and then stalked off to join his class.

“I will give it my all,” Asuka said.

“I expect nothing less,” Izuku reassured him. “With my healing, I can take those vicious claws, so don’t even think of holding back.”

“I will allow you the thirty seconds to show off, but after that, you’re toast.”

“Same.”

 

Asuka took flight immediately at the start of the match. Izuku did his best but his standing vertical was only twenty inches and while running upped it to a very impressive thirty, Asuka had no trouble avoiding him. It was nice to show these things off, but both boys knew the terrain – or lack thereof – was favoring Asuka.

Support gear would have been Izuku’s best bet, but outside of the support course, it was limited to what was needed to use your quirk effectively. That meant none for him.

Thirty seconds was a surprisingly long time. Asuka dropped down and grabbed Izuku’s arms. “… Toss you.”

“Catch me?”

“Why?” Asuka lifted them higher.

“Can only land from twenty feet or less.”

“Roger.” He did a mid-air flip and sent Izuku rocketing skyward. For his part, Izuku pulled his limbs in to minimize drag on the way up. At the crest of the throw, he made himself easier to catch by holding his arms out. Asuka’s huge claws wrapped firmly around his waist. He spread his wings to glide around the ring in a beautiful display of strength.

“Ten, nine, eight, sev–” Asuka dropped Izuku when he began his countdown. He rolled with the impact and had to change course to stay in bounds. “Rude!”

Izuku shed his jacket and tore it down the middle, knotting it at the collar to prevent it from ripping further. He kicked his shoes off while dodging Asuka’s strafes. The shoes were tied to the ends and Asuka realized too late, what his classmate was up to. The improvised bola wrapped around one wing bringing him to the ground.

The pair squared up for a real fight.

Izuku kept his fists up knowing that powerful kicks were coming. The barrage of punches was a storm to be weathered not a problem to be solved. Asuka’s wings had the anatomy of a macaw’s. So, while he could bop Izuku with the carpals in something similar to a palm strike, he lacked a fist and any real power behind the blows. They were meant as a distraction.

Asuka’s taloned foot came up in a textbook inside crescent kick. The blunt side of his claws scraped across Izuku’s face. Izuku grunted and stepped back. Asuka pivoted on his newly planted foot and rode the momentum into a backkick, raking his claws across Izuku’s abdomen.

Izuku hissed at the slash, but instead of backing off as everyone thought he would, he made a three-step entry into Asuka’s space as if he were going for a forward throw, a body drop, or an inner reap. It turned out to be the latter as he swept Asuka’s left leg out from under him.

The mount was fast and accompanied by a hail of blows. Izuku’s knees snug in his armpits, one wing pinned, and the other trapped in an arm lock, Asuka tried to remember what to do. He tried to throw Izuku off by arching into a bridge, but Izuku just twisted smoothly into an armbar. Without a real thumb to use as a landmark, it was a little more difficult to get Asuka’s elbow in the right place.

Reaching up with his leg, Asuka clawed at Izuku’s side. Gritting his teeth Izuku pulled back. “Tap or I break it.”

Asuka hesitated. Izuku was bleeding. The match should be called soon. The question was would his arm break before the refs? His arm was bent dangerously, and Izuku was applying more pressure at a steady rate. Asuka tapped with his free wing. “I yield!”

Izuku immediately released him and started checking him over for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Me? You’re bleeding!”

“Tis but a scratch,” Izuku said imperiously, helping him to his feet. “But no, seriously, are you okay? I clocked you pretty hard. And your arm, it could have a green stick fracture or plastic bowing.”

“Well, I don’t think I have a concussion. Besides Recovery Girl will patch me; hopeful in time to watch your next match.”

The pair ignored the announcement of Izuku’s victory and headed down the steps to the medical station without waiting for a stretcher.

In the temporary clinic, Recovery Girl scolded them. “With his hollow bones –”

“That’s racist. His bones aren’t hollow. Hell, bird bones aren’t even ‘hollow.’ They’re pneumatic, filled with air spaces connected to the respiratory system because flying takes a lot of oxygen. His bone density and strength are actually far superior to the average person’s. The adaptations granted from, like, nine generations of similar quirks beat the hell out of those granted due to random fusion. Everything works in his favor, flight-wise. Keel-shaped sternum, more bones fused, powerful flight muscles.”

Asuka put his uninjured wing over Izuku’s mouth. “He means: We were as careful as the situation called for and if you take umbrage with students receiving injuries in this competition, please, take it up with management.”

Izuku grinned from behind the feathers. “Oh, that is articulate.”

“If you’ve no need to keep us, we can rest just as well in the stands, amongst friends.” And they left.

 

Inko’s heart stopped as her baby was hurled high into the air. That was his classmate. Izuku had told her that he was friends with all of them. Didn’t he know about the fall?

The boy caught him easily and Inko let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. This match couldn’t be over soon enough.

It got worse before it was over. Inko wailed for her poor baby. She hated seeing him in pain. Did these children not know it was only a school sports festival?

 

 “Stray-kun is soooo cute when he gets worked up!”

“Those gashes do look pretty bad,” Tomura agreed.

While Kurogiri made no comment, he did make notes.

“What’s that for?”

“Shaking the public’s faith in Yuuei.”

 

After Shinso’s very short match and Todoroki’s even shorter one, there was another delay to clean up the ice. This one was taller than the stadium; a true display of power. It was the only reason Izuku made it back in time to watch the end of Fukami’s match. Even though her opponent was having difficulty breathing, the vines she produced didn’t seem affected by Fukami’s toxin. They were also stronger than her tentacles.

Soon she was wrapped up and unable to move. Fukami surrendered and a stretcher was brought out for her opponent who was gasping desperately for air and having trouble standing. Fukami was barely able to glide out of the ring on her mangled tentacles, but it was a point of pride for her to walk away while the winner was carried.

 

Yaoyorozu wasted no time producing a heavy steel shield at the start of the match. Bakugo wasted no time delivering the brutal right hook Izuku had warned her about. She rolled to the side to avoid the onslaught. He came at her with a steady barrage of blasts, pushing her back. The smoke stung Yaoyorozu’s eyes. She needed to get some distance to breathe and give herself some time to create.

His blasts were wild and fierce; it was all Yaoyorozu could do not to be herded out of the ring. The shield absorbed most of the impacts, but she was moved a little with each one. As suddenly as the explosions started they stopped.

Yaoyorozu created a simple metal staff. Instead of stepping backward into a defensive stance, she lunged forward.

“Damn, I thought you’d fall for that,” Bakugo said with a laugh.

“After training with Izuku ‘mind your surroundings’ Midoriya? As if,” she shot back.

“Good. I like a challenge.” Bakugo parried her attack and let off a small disorienting blast near her face.

Yaoyorozu rolled away from him. Knowing she was vulnerable while her senses recovered, she produced a large fireproof blanket from her back. Her shirt and the rest of her jacket were shredded, but she was somewhat shielded from the heat and impact of Bakugo’s blasts. It bought her the time needed to produce something more complex.

The blanket was whipped off her back and Yaoyorozu tossed the flash bang almost blindly in that direction. Accuracy was not a requirement. The light and sound engulfed the ring. Yaoyorozu threw a second canister as she turned to face Bakugo.

Unfortunately for her, his reaction to the first one was to blast upward. Faced away from the blinding light and only marginally affected by the noise he was ready to dodge her next attack, but it was misaimed.

The canister bounced harmlessly along the ground to where he had been standing. Bakugo grinned when he got a look at the disappointment on her face. The gasmask clued him in on the possible contents spilling out. It was either tear gas or knockout gas.

Most common types of teargas were flammable. Bakugo didn’t know about knockout gases, but if the propellants were the same... Bakugo took the chance and let himself drop into the cloud. Then he sparked an explosion. He was blown upwards with more force than he was expecting, but Yaoyorozu had just enough time to dive under the fireproof blanket.

She was running out of fat stores. Yaoyorozu panted as she wracked her brain for another useful item.

Someone in the crowd booed and jeered at Bakugo as he touched down. “Stop toying with the poor girl, she’s been through enough!”

“Just look at those scars!”

Bakugo just sneered but Aizawa gave the offender an earful. He ended with, “Or to put it succinctly: keep your sexism away from my capable female student.”

Both fighters smiled at that. Yaoyorozu whipped the blanket around and onto Bakugo like a net when he approached her. Momentarily blinded, he lunged at the spot she had been while blowing a hole through the blanket. Yaoyorozu was on the move, creating caltrops and marbles as she went. Lastly, she made a slingshot.

“You gonna take me out with that little thing?” Bakugo asked.

“Yes,” she panted. Yaoyorozu pulled back the elastic and let fly.

Bakugo easily dodged the projectile but slipped on a marble. It cracked open to encase his foot in foam. “Fuck, ow.”

She launched another hitting him square in the chest. Viscous goo spread out from the impact.

“Okay, Ponytail, you made your point,” he growled and launched himself at her.

Yaoyorozu rolled out of the way, sweeping some of the caltrops aside. She fired again at the now airborne Bakugo. He figured out her tactic; keep him from landing to exhaust him. That wasn’t going to work, as she had kept the edge of the ring free of marbles.

Bakugo flew straight into her, heedless of the foam-filled marbles she sent at him. He smacked into her. Yaoyorozu was launched backward. She had no control of her flight, and no reserves to create anything else. Bakugo touched down, the crunch of his foam-covered boot triggering the release of the goo from several caltrops. He was vaguely relieved to discover that it wasn’t Mie’s two-part hardening foam, but just expanding foam and a sticky substance somewhere between tar and taffy. His foot was stuck in place.

“Yaoyorozu is out of bounds. Bakugo advances.”

 

Kirishima and Tetsutetsu should have been an interesting matchup and, Izuku supposed, for some spectators it was. He quickly grew bored of the pair just smashing into each other like a Metapod versus a Kukuna. For the most part, their fighting styles were the same: big predictable haymakers.

It dragged out longer than any previous fight. The pair traded quips and blows. Yelled and punched. The concrete was gouged with each blow as their feet dug in.

Meanwhile, Izuku and Shinso watched with half an eye from the end of one entrance. Their match was next. “No matter what happens, no hard feelings?”

“I won’t blame you if I slip up and get brainwashed, I promise,” Izuku said. “Not that I’ll go easy on you. This’ll be much closer to a real fight than we’ve ever had.”

“Are you trying to say you’ve been holding back on me?”

“I might have, or I could just be trying to psych you out.”

Midnight’s announcement of Kirishima’s victory cut their conversation short and Izuku made his way to the other entrance.

 

Shinso closed on Izuku as soon as the match started. “I’m sorry Aizawa-sensei likes me better than you.”

Izuku had to clamp his jaw shut. He hadn’t thought Shinso had realized that.

Opening with a salvo of jabs, Shinso continued, “Don’t take it too personally, he just sees that I have more potential.”

Izuku ducked and dodged, biding his time waiting for an opening. He knew Shinso’s words were just a tactic, a strategy, but that wasn’t going to stop them from hurting if he found the right ones; the wrong ones. Shinso knew enough of his tragic back-story to actually hurt him if it came to it.

“Or rather that I have potential. You’ll just end up getting yourself injured.”

Izuku wrapped both arms around Shinso’s thighs and pushed his shoulder into the boy’s gut. Shinso threw a punch to Izuku’s head as he was brought to the ground. Izuku pulled him into an arm bar and applied pressure.

Bridging his back to break the hold, Shinso twisted onto all fours. He was mindful of his joints as he jerked his arm free. Shinso moved to roll Izuku into a pin, but Izuku swept his legs and flipped Shinso over the top of him.

Following the motion, Izuku rolled on top of Shinso’s chest. Shinso tried to throw him off with another bridge, but Izuku planted one hand above Shinso’s head. He made a kissing noise and punched Shinso in the mouth.

It was a brutal strike and Shinso spit blood as he grabbed Izuku’s triceps and wrist. This time when he bridged Izuku couldn’t plant his hand. Shinso rolled them over.

Izuku arched his back and knocked Shinso’s hands to the sides. He pulled Shinso into his chest with his legs. Capturing his wrist, Izuku shifted to the side, secured Shinso’s arm in a figure four lock, and twisted to plant his face on the concrete.

Turning toward Shinso, Izuku applied pressure to the arm. The shoulder was in danger of dislocating. Shinso pushed on Izuku’s hip with his free arm, straitening it. He pushed away and leaned his weight onto Izuku’s shoulder. The hold broken, both boys scrambled for the advantage.

Shinso rolled away. “Rang your bell pretty good. Touched a nerve too.” He kipped up. “It’s not your fault your quirk is useless.”

Izuku’s ears ring more from that than the blow to the head. He knew Shinso didn’t mean it. Knew it was just a trap. Still, it took everything he had not to respond. He also knew that he should have avoided Shinso’s mouth and nose when he struck. That’s what a friend would do.

Izuku made Shinso spit blood again. That dark thrill was back. He wondered if this was how Bakugo felt when he’d slam him into a wall and crackle mini-explosions inches from his face. He’d been training longer, harder, and more effectively than Shinso. Not that Shinso wasn’t skilled, but Izuku had more power to draw on, quirks aside.

Shinso came back with a wild haymaker that Izuku was obligated to dodge. He knew his friend was better than that, but it hadn’t been a short fight and maybe he was starting to get tired.

Through the blood in his mouth, Shinso said, “But that’s what it’s always been like for you, hasn’t it? Useless, quirkless Deku.”

It made his blood boil. It made his eyes sting. That word. It was all the more painful coming from a friend. It was a weakness he’d address later, for now, he growled. He hoped the unintelligible response wasn’t enough to trigger Shinso’s quirk.

It wasn’t, thankfully. Izuku lunged, closing the distance, taking several strikes, bringing Shinso to the ground. He couldn’t trust himself to hit him again. Holds and submissions were familiar, calming even. Intimate. This was a friend. They were both hitting hard, just in different ways.

Blood trickled down Izuku’s face. His nose was broken. He took a ragged breath. A grin split his face. Izuku managed to get a leg lock on Shinso’s left leg. Izuku’s feet were planted firmly on Shinso’s stomach, crossed at the ankles. Shinso’s foot was tucked under Izuku’s arm. He began applying pressure by straightening his hips slightly.

Shinso tried to create distance. He tried kicking with his free leg. He said, “Fucking Deku, can’t do anything right.” But Izuku weathered it all. The strain on Shinso’s leg was getting to him. He threw his head back, knocking it on the concrete, and tapped. Izuku held still as the pair waited for Midnight to call the match.

The instant she did, Izuku released Shinso’s leg. They separated but before Shinso could stand, he found himself with an armful of sniffling Izuku. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. ‘m sorry.”

“Hey, none of that. We agreed.”

“I hurt you.”

“I hurt you first.” Shinso pushed him away gently. “This is no place to do this. Help me up.”

Izuku nodded and they pulled each other to their feet. “Sorry.”

“Let’s just get out of here before they send a stretcher.”

“There’s no shame in needing one,” Izuku said as he pulled Shinso’s left arm over his shoulders. The pair walked down the steps and out of the arena. Once they were out of view, Izuku stooped and lifted Shinso bridal style.

“This is undignified.”

 “Makes me feel better.”

“Drop me and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Fair enough.”

 

Inko wasn’t sure how she hadn’t fainted. Izuku talked about Shinso the way he used to talk about Bakugo. How could they hurt each other like that? Why weren’t the teachers stopping it?

 

Toga squeaked and squealed next to Tomura.

“That was more blood than the bird got.”

“Did you see his face? Stray came out to play~!” Toga leaned egregiously into Tomura’s personal space, even going so far as to brace herself on his shoulder. “Oh my god! This was better than his match at the Glovebox!”

“His nose is definitely broken,” Kurogiri mumbled, clearly displeased. “He could have blocked that.”

“Maybe he wanted to make sure Toga got her money’s worth,” Tomura suggested.

“Or he’s hiding his skill. If the purple-haired kid is like a benchmark. So, if they’re both bloodied then they look evenly matched, even though Stray-kun won.”

“I hope his reasoning is so pragmatic,” Kurogiri replied softly.

 

Chiyo was furious. That Midoriya boy was back in her temporary clinic, with his opponent just as beat up as he was, and when she tried to remind him to be more careful, he told her, “I believe you’ve already been referred to management on this subject.”

She had half a mind not to heal him, but when she threatened that he had just said, “Okay,” and grabbed a few band-aids and some gauze from her supply cabinet. It was that simple to him. If he left her clinic with a broken nose then he’d go into his next match with a broken nose. Chiyo healed him, but let him know that his homeroom teacher was going to hear about his recklessness.

“Yamada-sensei or Aizawa-sensei?” he asked as he left.

And wasn’t that just the cherry on top? He knew that placing well meant moving up into the Hero Course; he had no incentive to be cautious.

 

Izuku missed the match between Todoroki and Shiozaki, from 1-B. Shinso sat next to Asuka, with Ono on his other side; a hastily created banner collecting wrinkles and dirt at their feet.

Todoroki opened with another large ice attack. But the vines that made up Shiozaki’s hair lashed out and crushed it. It went like that with Todoroki sending out big attacks, trying to heard or capture her, and Shiozaki dodging and destroying. Todoroki was getting tired, and frustrated.

Shiozaki capitalized by sending a detached vine after him while still dodging his onslaught of ice. It bound him from head to toe and his ice did nothing but spread around it. There was nothing for it and he had to use a burst of flame to escape before Midnight decided he was actually stuck.

“Yes, Shoto!” was screamed from the stands. Fire erupted from the spot on the stairs, removing any doubt as to the man’s identity. Shinso cringed sympathetically. “Have you finally accepted your purpose?” Endeavour strode down the stairs. “That’s it, very good.” He was grinning manically. “This is the dawn of a new era for us!”

“Do you think they’d kick us out for throwing snow cones at him?”

“He’s too far away.”

“I have a slingshot in my inventory.”

“Don’t,” Ariyama said. “It’s a waste of sugar.”

“With my blood in your veins, you’ll surpass me,” Endeavour continued. “You will live up to the reason I created you!”

The rest of Ariyama’s drink slammed into the back of Endeavour’s head with all the force she dared. At 119 pounds and with the proportional strength of an ant she could give All Might a run for his money in lifting and carrying, but it didn’t translate one-to-one into more complex movements like fighting and throwing. Still, she had an impressive arm and it stopped the Flame Hero cold. His fire was momentarily extinguished.

Ariyama crouched below the railing. Class 1-C was, like the rest of the crowd, sitting in stunned silence. They could all feel Endeavour’s glare sweep over them looking for the culprit.

“Endeavour suddenly shouts words of… encouragement,” Yamada said awkwardly. “And some over-enthusiastic fan tried to douse his flames. It’s okay, sports fan, he’s supposed to be on FIYAH~!”

The fight was a rout after that. The vines withered and chard leaving Shiozaki vulnerable to Todoroki ice, finally.

Chapter 33: Victory is More than Just Winning

“You said it was a waste of sugar.”

“New data required recalculation,” Ariyama replied. She was still crouched behind the railing. “As the class rep, I do not condone the hurling of food products, at pro heroes or otherwise. As a person who has met Todoroki-san, I cannot apologize for my actions.”

“You do know that hiding will single you out as the culprit, right?” an unfamiliar voice asked calmly.

“I um… was just checking on my banner,” she said slowly.

“Anyway,” he dismissed her excuse, “here.” When she looked up, she saw the plain boy from the business course who had been assigned their section. He had messy brown hair with one blond lock in the front and an overly casual demeanor. He was holding out a large soda. “My family does a lot of manufacturing for his agency, so it’s on me. Money well spent.”

“Thank you,” she said taking her seat. She accepted the drink. “I’m Ariyama and this is Asuka.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“My best friend,” she corrected.

“Kato.”

 

Endeavour frowned as he entered the tunnel his son would exit the arena from. His flames had dried the soda, but it was still sticky and irritating. The smell of burnt sugar grated on his already aggravated nerves.

He was further irritated by the presence of the green-haired boy who would be facing Shoto in the next round. Given his performance so far, he was, for all intents and purposes, quirkless. “Leave.”

“No,” the boy replied firmly. “I was here first. You shouldn’t even be back here. And I wanna wish my brother good luck in his next match.”

“I said…” he started to snap but let the words die when the boy’s face lit up like it was Christmas and he pushed away from the wall.

“You were fantastic!”

“I had to win.” Shoto was ignoring him.

“I’m glad she challenged you. It’s better to work these things out now, while we’re safe.”

“Not going to tell me to get lost?” Endeavour asked.

Both boys turned to look at him. Shoto wore an expression as if he hadn’t even noticed him.

“I’m glad you’re finally seeing reason,” Endeavor began. “Now that you’ve abandoned your childish rebellion we can get back to what’s important.” Endeavour held his hand out to his son. “After you graduate you’ll work by my side. I’ll lead you down the path of the mighty, Shoto.”

“I haven’t abandoned anything. You’re a fool to think my feelings can be so easily reversed. I’ll never follow in your footsteps. You want me to surpass you? Fine by me.” He shouldered passed Endeavor. “Stay out of my way.”

Endeavour’s eyes widened, and his breath caught. As he reached out to grab his son’s shoulder two things happened: Shoto’s flames ignited – an instinctual defensive flare to ward off an attacker – and the green-haired boy pulled Shoto around him to stand between them.

Endeavour’s hand closed around the other boy’s shoulder, hot but not burning. “Let go,” the boy reached up and gripped Endeavor’s wrist, “now.”

“Careful,” Todoroki said dully, “I don’t want you singed before our match.”

The boy began twisting his wrist with surprising strength. Endeavour let go.

“You think he’d be so careless? So easily provoked? Disappointing,” he replied in a bored tone. The boy kissed at Shoto and said, “At least you’ll never let me down.”

“I’m not sure how to interpret that after what you did to Shinso.”

“And bear in mind that I like him.”

“Pretty sure you like me too.”

“How sure?”

“Winner pays for our first date?”

“Oh, you are smooth. And you know I can’t resist a good wager.”

Endeavor was sure they were going to continue, both flirting and ignoring him, but the boy with the explosion quirk came stomping down the hall. “Oi! Deku, Half’n’half, what are you still doing in here?”

“Wishing you luck Kacchan!”

“I don’t need your stupid luck.”

Was that the boy’s quirk? Endeavour wondered.

“Then,” Shoto turned and rested a hand on the abrasive boy’s shoulder, “don’t lose. It will be far more impressive for me to beat you than Kirishima.”

The boy scoffed and brushed his hand away. He turned to the green one. “I wish you had a shot against this loser.”

“I know! It would be infinitely more impressive for me to kick your ass,” he replied with a cheerful grin that seemed to take any sting out of the entire conversation.

“You wish, nerd.” The boy went out into the arena, sure of his victory.

And just like that, the pair turned to watch the match, not even caring if Endeavor was paying attention to how much they were ignoring him. As explosions rocked the arena, they made comments and planned Shoto’s strategy for the final match.

“If you can keep the ambient temperature down he’ll sweat less. It won’t stop him but it will slow him down,” the green boy explained.

“He goes all out for every fight, he should be nearing quirk exhaustion.”

“I mean, it doesn’t compare to ten years of hell training, but we did four months of pure endurance training. If you let him stay on the ground, he’ll barely notice the fatigue. Like you and me, his previous matches won’t have worn him down appreciably. And he will kill himself to win, so don’t count on him tiring out.”

“Shoto.”

“He used that same right hook on Yaoyorozu.”

“Yeah, he always opens with that.”

“Shoto!”

Shoto’s shoulders hunched when Endeavor raised his voice. They eased back down when the other boy placed a gentle hand between them. Endeavour ground his teeth.

The explosions had stopped, and the two in the ring were dancing back and forth with their fists up. The redhead was wasting energy on powerful blows that weren’t connecting while the other dodged each with a single movement.

“You can’t date him. I forbid it.”

The boy had the gall to burst out laughing like it was a joke. “Nice. Now say he has to concentrate on his studies. Please.”

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Shoto said.

“Sorry, babe, but as long as he’s not hitting anyone, he’s harmless; just an irritant.”

“Shoto, he performed admirably, but he’s beneath you.”

“Leave,” Shoto said quietly.

“Shoto –”

“Shh,” the boy interrupted, waving dismissively at him. “This is important.”

The explosions were back. They sounded louder and more frequent than before.

“He throws them as easily as punches and knows how much force a person can take.”

“Will he be as savage as you?”

“Where do you think I learned it?”

Shoto nodded. He turned to Endeavor as the victor was announced. “If you want to watch from here that’s fine with me, but the view from the stands is better.”

              

They ended up coming out of the same tunnel; neither wanting to walk passed Endeavor just to stand on ceremony. The crowd buzzed with low confusion, but Yamada smoothed it over with his usual antics. They eyed the stands waiting even after Midnight officially started the match to make sure he had a good view.

Endeavour was on the opposite side from earlier. He had a perfect view of class 1-C’s now proudly displayed banners. We love you, Shoto. Win All The Fights! and Red, White, and Winning the Fight. were great, but Izuku’s favorite was 50% Hot, 50% Cool, and 100% Sexy.

Aki was flickering in and out of her shimmering red orb form to draw attention; Hoshino had the balcony decked out in varying sizes of soft white lights. The effect was unmistakable.

Yamada shouted, “Now this is support! Class 1-C is cheering on Class 1-A’s Shoto Todoroki!”

Class 1-C shouted, “You make my heart go Doki-Doki, Todoroki!”

Todoroki faced them turning his back on Endeavor and raising his left hand. He crossed his index finger and thumb. A tall plume of flame erupted from his hand in the shape of a heart. The crowd ate it up.

Izuku and Todoroki could practically hear Endeavor’s boiling rage from the ring. They faced each other, bowed, and began.

Izuku rolled to the left, narrowly avoiding an onslaught of ice. It was far smaller than Todoroki had used on Sero. Todoroki used a flash of fire to herd him back towards the ice. Izuku leaped up the mass in three bounds.

He ducked behind an outcropping of ice. Todoroki grinned as he could still see the dark blue of Izuku’s jacket. Shaking his head, he sent another wave of ice to encase it.

He could be forgiven for his shock when he was tackled to the ground and a torrent of hard blows followed. Todoroki ignited his flame in hopes of dislodging Izuku. Despite the peeling skin and scorch marks it caused, Izuku wasn’t deterred. “Turn up the heat. This is kindergarten stuff.”

Todoroki sent ice up Izuku’s body – careful to avoid his burns – freezing him in place. He wiggled out from under him and, as Midnight announced his victory, he leaned up and kissed Izuku on his freckled cheek.

 

“How dare he?” Toga shouted.

“It’s called turning an asset, pet,” Kurogiri soothed. “Stray-kun still likes us best.”

“That’s not the point! Stray-kun asks us if it’s okay to kiss or touch. He should get the same consideration.”

“Sometimes teens misstep, if that’s what it was Stray-kun will correct him. But keep in mind the possibility that consent was given before they entered the ring.”

“I guess.” Toga pouted. “He is cute though.”

Kurogiri chuckled.

 

Inko sat silently on the couch and stared blankly at the TV. Part of her as relieved that her son wouldn’t have to fight Bakugo, a larger part was relieved that he was done fighting altogether, but mostly she was stunned. That boy had kissed her son. It wasn’t even an impulsive, passionate kiss. It was sweet and gentle. It was loving.

Why hadn’t Izuku told her he was dating?

 

Bakugo was waiting for them in the tunnel. Izuku tried to head off whatever tantrum the sullen look on his face meant. “I’ve had worse burns. I don’t even need Recovery Girl; besides abusing her quirk is risky for me.”

Todoroki gave him a look of dull surprise, which Izuku interpreted as shock given his general lack of expression.

“Yeah, I know. This ain’t about that.” Bakugo grabbed Todoroki by his jacket. “If you hurt him, the beating I’m about to give you will look like a dream vacation.”

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll be holding back on me today?”

“There’s a difference between this and trying to kill you, Icy-hot,” Bakugo snarled.

Izuku put an arm between them to try to separate them. “It’s not like that, Kacchan.”

Before he could explain, the trio heard heavy footsteps approaching them. Bakugo released Todoroki’s jacket. He waited until Endeavor rounded the corner before hugging them both enthusiastically.  “Congratulations, you guys. Let’s get you to the infirmary, Deku.”

“Shoto,” Endeavour greeted him gruffly. It lacked the earlier anger and puffed-up bravado. “What were you thinking? Were you thinking? Your juvenile rebellion is one thing but this could jeopardize your career. For a phase, Shoto!”

“I don’t care.”

“Ages fifty-one to seventy-one are, statistically, hardcore traditionalists, and you certainly court that demographic, but more than ten percent of ages thirty-five to fifty-three and twenty percent of ages eighteen to thirty-four identify as some form of LGBTQ,” Izuku said. “It’s not the death knell it used to be.”

“Stay out of this,” Endeavour growled, his flames flaring.

“Or what?”

Endeavour looked vaguely shocked that Izuku wasn’t intimidated by him. He was harsh and brash, but not stupid. “If you care about him you won’t make this shit-storm worse. Don’t talk to the press. Be discreet. And remember the other eighty to ninety percent of the population.”

“Fifty percent of ages thirty-five to fifty-three and seventy percent of ages eighteen to thirty-four support gay rights. We’ll be fine.”

“I don’t care,” Todoroki repeated. “If the public hates me because I’m gay that says a lot about them. If I hide who I am to get famous that says a lot about me. Even if it is just a phase, I still have to explore it.”

Endeavour glared at his son, then at Izuku. Finally, he said, “Just be sure to choose a proper surrogate for my grandchildren,” and stormed off.

Izuku sagged against the wall. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“Shit. Are you having a panic attack now?” Bakugo barked from beside him. “You just faced down freaking Endeavour armed with some statistics.”

“I made them up,” Izuku confessed, bending down to breathe. It hid the manic grin on his face.

“So, I should be worried about this?” Todoroki asked.

“Well, I mean, they’re kinda like estimates. Plus, you always wanna know what the sample size and methodology is and I couldn’t tell you where I got those numbers.”

“You are insane.”

“Am no– Yeah, okay, maybe a little. So, Todoroki, how do you feel?”

“Call me Shoto,” he said. “I feel… a little emotionally satisfied.”

“Good, now, let’s get you patched up and you fighting fit. You still have an ass-kicking coming.” Bakugo grabbed them both by the arm and dragged them down the hall. Izuku laughed, Todoroki frowned, but they both allowed it.

 

Tenya excused himself from the rest of his classmates when his phone vibrated. It was his mother. “Hello, Mom. I hate to tell you this… but I lost.” He was sure he heard her response wrong as his vision dimmed for a second and her voice became distant. A villain got Tensei. He stood in the hall shell shocked, his phone slipped from his fingers. He scrambled to catch it. “What!? No, that, that can’t be…”

But his mother wouldn’t lie to him, wouldn’t joke about something so serious. He put the phone back up to his ear.

“Tenya? I want you to come to the hospital as soon as you can. Get a ride with Kayama-san, okay?”

“She’s still officiating,” he replied numbly.

“I’m calling her next; just go wait by her car, okay.”

“I can’t get into staff parking.”

“By the parking entrance then.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t sure how he wound up in the right place, he didn’t even remember ending the call.

 

Izuku joined his classmates as Yamada announced, “Welcome to the final battle of the Yuuei High School sports festival! In just a moment here, we’ll see which first year comes out on top! Yes, it all comes down to this, folks. From the hero course, Shoto Todoroki versus his classmate Katsuki Bakugo!”

Midnight had barely shouted, “Begin!” before Todoroki slammed his right hand down and sent a massive, jagged spear of ice at Bakugo. Though it was as tall as the stadium, he kept the bulk of it centered over the ring.

Bakugo’s arms blurred as he slammed explosion after explosion into the ice to keep from being either encased or pushed out of the ring. He bore through the ice and launched himself at Todoroki.

Todoroki feinted with his left. When Bakugo went to the right, Todoroki swiped his flames over Bakugo’s hands in an attempt to blow him out of the ring. Bakugo corrected and slammed into Todoroki’s ribs. Palms popping and crackling, Bakugo rained punches down on him. “Don’t tell me you’re done already.”

Todoroki sent ice up Bakugo’s body freezing him in place. He wiggled out from under him. With an angry howl, Bakugo cracked the ice and flung himself skyward. Todoroki kept creating ice, reducing the number of safe places for him to land, and using his flame to set off any built-up sweat if Bakugo got close.

Izuku could see the moment Bakugo figured out the tactic. He switched from head-on attacks to strafing the ice. Chunks were blown off and Todoroki had to use his fire to shield his face. The crowd oohed and ahhed when the flames leaped up in a heart shape. 

Bakugo grinned maniacally as he spun himself into a tornado to whip the flames away. He launched a huge ranged attack; the ice was cleared from the ring. Todoroki was forced back but a quickly created low block of ice kept himself from being pushed out of bounds.

“Wow-oh-oh~! Bakugo combined speed and rotation with a huge blast. He turned himself into a human missile!” Yamada shouted.

Todoroki moaned. His fingers twitched as he lay on the rough ice.

“Pathetic,” Bakugo managed as he took a staggering step forward.

Midnight began, “Todoroki is –”

Todoroki’s hand lay flat on the concrete, frost extending from it in uneven ripples. A pillar of ice rocketed into Bakugo. Too tired to properly avoid it, Bakugo was sent sprawling. Meanwhile, Todoroki continued to build up the ripples of ice as he sent the thin layers over Bakugo.

He didn’t notice the frost covering him, cooling his body. He kipped up. “That all you got left, Icy-hot?”

“No.” Todoroki’s tone was flat and even as always, despite his panting breaths.

Ice crept up Bakugo’s legs, clinging to his pants and shoes. Sheets of ice built steadily around them; the combatants both shivered from the cold.

Bakugo swayed as he stalked closer. “You think you can beat me?”

“Yes.” The monosyllabic responses made him seem stoic and unaffected despite the heaving of his chest.

Bakugo leaped at him his fist cocked back ready to deliver an explosive blow. Todoroki sidestepped casually, and the blast never came.

“Yield.”

“Fuck you, Icy-hot!” Bakugo closed on him again, with another brutal right hook.

Todoroki countered with a jab. Bakugo sank into a leg sweep to avoid it. Todoroki hopped over it but slipped as he landed on his own ice. A kick was delivered to his shoulder. Grabbing the offending leg with both hands, he sent ice up Bakugo’s body and yanked him to the ground.

Bakugo scrambled to his feet, knocking ice away frantically. Todoroki sat up to avoid being counted out but sent more ice at Bakugo. Breaking it with every step, Bakugo could barely breathe when he reached Todoroki. He straddled him and began raining punches down on him.

The blows were far weaker than the earlier salvo. “Don’t tell me you’re done already,” Todoroki taunted. He created a pillar of ice beneath Bakugo, throwing him forward. Todoroki kept him in the air for three hits while he smoothed a line of pillars into a slide with his fire.

Bakugo was dropped onto the top of the high-walled slide. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t fight gravity on this nearly frictionless surface. Howling with rage, he slid out of the ring.

“Bakugo is out of bounds. Todoroki wins,” Midnight announced.

“And with that, the final match is officially over. The first-year champion of the Yuuei sports festival is Shoto Todoroki from class 1-A!”

 

Nemuri was flagged down by Nezu as she stepped out of the restroom post-match. She didn’t have a lot of time to freshen up while the arena was being cleaned and altered for the award portion.

“Terrible news, Nemuri-chan,” he said softly. “It’s Tensei. He’s been hospitalized. The Iidas would like you to drive Tenya to the hospital in Hosu. If you need someone to drive you…”

“I can manage,” she replied. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes. “Will he – Is he okay?”

“We’re not sure yet.”

“The award ceremony…”

“Yamada and All Might will figure it out.”

“Okay. Where is Tenya-kun?”

“Waiting by the parking entrance. I have a bot monitoring him.”

“Good. Oh god, that poor kid. He idolizes Tensei.” She shook her head. “I’ll text to let everyone know we got there.”

Nezu nodded gravely.

 

“The first-year students have completed all of the events for the Yuuei sports festival. Now it’s time to relax and enjoy the award ceremony,” Yamada crowed.

Fireworks went off overhead, and confetti and smoke shot up in a cloud around the three raised pedestals Ishiyama had created. The pedestals rose displaying the indifferent Todoroki, fuming Bakugo, smiling Kirishima, and a still injured Izuku.

“Let’s bring out the hardware!” he continued. “There’s only one person worthy of distributing those awards!”

All Might’s booming laugh echoed through the stadium. He ran and leaped over the pen of reporters, dong a mid-air summersault. “I am here!”

He pulled the pair of bronze medals out of his belt as he stepped up to the third-place pedestal. He placed one around each of their necks. “Young Kirishima, Mi- Young Midoriya, congratulations. You both showed great strength out there.” All Might stepped forward and hugged Kirishima. “With more training both your endurance and agility will increase. I can only imagine where you’ll be in a year.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kirishima replied as All Might stepped back.

He hugged Izuku as well. “I’m honestly shocked at how well you did. I know I don’t have the right to be but I’m proud of how far you’ve come.”

“Thanks,” Izuku said.

“Try to be a little less reckless, will you?”

Izuku shook his head. “I wasn’t that reckless. I could trust my opponents not to take it too far.”

All Might chuckled as he moved to the second-place pillar. He placed the silver medal around his neck. “Young Bakugo, congratulations. You gave it your all.” He hugged the grumpy boy. “Your prediction about the winner’s circle being full of class 1-A students was certainly spot on. There is no shame in second place, especially with these fierce competitors. Doing your best is more important than being the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. It still stings though. I’ll do better next time.”

“I’m proud of you,” All Might said as he straightened up.

“Tch.” Bakugo turned his head away, a hint of red tingeing his cheeks.

He stepped up to Todoroki. “Young Todoroki, you’re well on your way to surpassing your predecessors. You’ve come a long way in a short time. Congratulations on your victory today.”

Todoroki gave a formal bow and All Might slipped the gold medal onto him. When the boy stood, he hugged him as well.

“You have the most powerful quirk I’ve ever seen and a good grasp on how to utilize it. And it’s nice to see you working the crowd. We just need to work on your smile, huh?”

“Midoriya said not to fake it, a genuine smile is beautiful.”

“He’s not wrong,” All Might said, ruefully. He turned to face the press. “Here they are the winners of this year’s sports festival! But listen closely: any of you first years could have ended up standing on these podiums. Think about what you’ve done today. You’ve challenged each other, learned, and climbed even closer toward your goals of being pros. I think the next generation of heroes is proving to be our most promising one yet.” All Might pointed up dramatically. “So I have one more thing to say. I want to hear everyone yell it with me. You know what it is!”

The entire stadium erupted with, “Plus Ultra!”

 

“Nice work, guys!” Yamada said to his students. He coughed into his fist and sipped at his tea with lemon and honey. “Some of you are likely going to get recruited for internships; I know Shinso, Midoriya, Fakami, and Asuka will have a few bids. We’ll know for sure when you get back, oh! You have the next two days off to recuperate, bee tee dubs. Rest up.”

“Yes, sensei!” the class replied. A low, tired but excited buzz erupted as they talked about how they were going to spend the next two days and if they thought they were going to be recruited.

The sun had set by the time everyone was ready to leave.

 

“I’m so sorry, Izuku!” his mom stuttered out, tears streaming down her face.

“Uh…” Izuku’s confusion was muffled as he was wrapped in a tight hug. He toed his shoes off while returning the hug.

“Whatever I did or said that made you think you couldn’t tell me I’m sorry.”

“Tell you what?” he managed to ask, maneuvering them to the couch.

“That you’re gay.”

“Oh, that.” He sagged a little, relaxing into the hug. The tension that he didn’t know he had been holding onto released. “I honestly didn’t think I needed to announce it. I just sort of thought you knew and didn’t care, wasn’t bothered by it.”

“I'm not, sweetie.” She hugged him tighter. “I’m glad. I don’t want you to think you can’t come to me with something. Anything.”

“Um… well, Shoto’s dad wasn’t as accepting.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said softly. “Does he need a place to stay? We can put him up for a few nights while we make arrangements for him.”

“Mom, you are the best. But no, it’s not like that. It doesn’t bother him that Shoto is gay, as long as he’s not public about it. He said I was beneath him.”

“How rude!” Inko exclaimed. “Well, I’m going to give that man a piece of my mind when we see him.”

“Uh, I don’t think that…” he paused and looked at his mother’s determined expression. “That is to say, Shoto and I just started dating. I’m not sure what the etiquette is but I’d like to go on at least a few dates before bringing him over. And, and then we’ll see where things go from there, okay?”

“Alright. I understand not wanting to rush things, Izuku.” Inko finally released him. “I’m sorry, I was upset and forgot to make dinner.”

“No problem.” Izuku pulled his phone out and started dialing the Indian place that Tomura liked before he realized what he was doing. He paused and shook his head. It was weird not seeing it in the list of contacts. He lowered his phone. “We can order delivery. What are you in the mood for?”

“Oh, anything,” she replied. “I should spoil you after what you’ve been through today.”

“There’s a new Thai place I wanted to try, let’s see if they deliver.”

Chapter 34: Taking Steps

“Why didn’t you tell us?” his sister asked quietly from the doorway of his room. Endeavor wasn’t home, having merely pushed his normal patrols back to attend the sports festival.

Shoto stared at her with a blank expression. “It just sort of happened.”

“No matter what you can come to Natsuo and me. You know that right?” Fuyumi fidgeted with the sleeves of her pink cardigan.

“Yeah.”

“Good, great. I’ll get started on dinner then.” She turned to head to the kitchen. “Oh, is Dad going to be upset?”

He tilted his head in thought. “About that? No more than usual. But All Might may have said something to upset him.”

Fuyumi frowned but said nothing as went to make dinner for the two of them.

 

As Izuku exited the warp gate, he caught Toga with ease. “Someone’s excited to see me.”

“You were so cute!” she squealed. Toga nuzzled his neck and ran her hand over his nose.

“I kinda lost it on Shinso,” he admitted. “Hearing him say that stuff opened some old wounds.”

“What did he say?” Tomura asked. “Do you wanna…?” He made a slicing gesture across his throat.

“God no,” Izuku replied maneuvering to his stool. “It’s best to find these weaknesses in a safe environment. He just called me Deku and useless. Nothing I haven’t heard before, but my reaction was different.”

“You’re Stray,” Toga cooed.

Izuku eyed the oversized hoodie she was snuggled into. “Does that make such a big difference?”

“Of course it does. Also, he broke your nose,” Kurogiri pointed out.

“I hit him first,” he countered. Izuku slipped his hands under the hem of the pastel bat hoodie. “Kind of set the tone.”

“Did Todoroki have permission to kiss you?” Toga asked, unable to wait any longer. She squirmed as he lifted the hoodie over her head.

“Well, not explicitly, but we had just told his dad we were dating.” He pulled the hoodie on and wrapped his arms around her.

“That’s not consent,” Toga said pouting. “He’ll have to be punished.”

“Himiko, that’s so cute, but it’s fine. It’s like a, a performance. He was just trying to sell the act. It was on the cheek anyway.”

“You like him better.”

Izuku chuckled. “If you’re uncomfortable with me using him, I can stop,” he whispered into her ear.

“Tell me you love me.”

“Toga-chan, that’s incredibly rude,” Kurogiri admonished. “Stray-kun will say it when he’s ready. When he means it.”

“He doesn’t make a habit of lying to us,” Tomura said, his voice its usual rough whisper.

“You know my name, Himiko,” Izuku said nuzzling her hair. “It’s more than he’ll ever get.”

“I made katsudon if you’re hungry. And then I was thinking of a hot soak and relaxing massage for your tired muscles,” Kurogiri said.

“Perfect,” Izuku replied.

 

Minoru was still sulking about how the sports festival ended. He hadn’t expected to win, but to be bumped off by a general course student was outrageous. The octopus bitch had called him a perverted lamprey for latching onto Yaoyorozu. How else was he supposed to get across that minefield? The race was prejudiced against his short legs.

But he knew he wouldn’t get any sympathy at school so he sifted through his father’s porn collection for something that would make him feel better. Nothing seemed to tickle his fancy, and Hound Dog’s words echoed in his head as he looked over the steamy titles. You attempted to use sympathy to get sexual favors. That is wrong. Hostile Environment Sexual Harassment. He wasn’t trying to make the girls uncomfortable.

He wanted them to like him after all. That’s what becoming a hero was all about. Were his compliments off-putting? Was there really a reason other than his height that made girls not like him? It couldn’t be… But.

Minoru sighed. He slammed the cupboard shut. Nothing had caught his eye, and thinking about porn just made him think about his session with Hound Dog.

 

“I’m going to the hospital,” Shoto announced pulling on his sneakers.

“Hold on, you can’t just visit without telling Dad,” Fuyumi said, returning to the entryway.

“Whatever.” Shoto pushed the old-fashioned door aside. Dew still clung to the grass and the light of the sun had barely crested the wall.

“I know it’s important to let her know, but…”

“I’ll be back.” he closed the door behind him. Shoto walked through the residential neighborhood's nearly empty streets, reflecting on the last time he had seen his mother.

She had been in the kitchen, on the phone with her mother. She had said that he and his siblings were like their father and that he was unbearable to look at. That she couldn’t raise him anymore. Midoriya’s words echoed in his mind as well: she chose to hurt you instead of stabbing him in his sleep or taking you and running away. She wouldn’t have taken them with her if she had left.

The escalation is slow. It’s inch by inch so the bad behavior becomes normal in the mind of the victim, and to not arouse suspicion in bystanders. Shoto hadn’t seen her since he was four, because he thought that the sight of him would cause her pain. He was too young to remember her clearly. Just her crying, and … and that his siblings were never with them. Natsuo would have just started school that year though, so maybe that was why none of his memories of his mother involved his siblings. But he remembered his dad dragging him to the training room while his siblings were playing in the courtyard below. He’d asked to play with them, just once.

After navigating through the hospital, Shoto hesitated at the door to his mother’s room. He steeled his nerve and pulled the door open.

Rei was seated on a stool, facing the window, a letter in her hands, and her white hair hanging loose over her shoulders. Even after he stepped inside, she continued to stare out the window.

“Hello, Mom,” Shoto said softly.

Slowly, Rei turned to look at him. Her expression was dull and blank.

“I’m Shoto.”

“I didn’t recognize you,” she whispered back. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s… that’s fine. How are you?”

“I have good days and bad days. I’m sorry about… not being there for you. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I… I want to, but I’ve spent so long blaming the old man for what you did…” he touched his scar. “I haven’t been angry at you at all, but I realize I should be.”

“You shouldn’t blame him. He was under a lot of pressure. Things were complicated. And you understand how hard being a hero is, don’t you?”

Shoto furrowed his brow. Her passivity seemed like calmness. Like she was uncaring or devoid of emotion, but he often had that same blank exterior. “I’ve hated him for ten years for pushing you over the edge.”

“I’m sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I doubt anyone would.”

Rei smiled. It was a shy, soft, and sweet smile; like the first ray of sun poking out from the clouds after a storm. She was the mother he had always imagined. The opposite of his father in every way.

That child, sometimes his left side is unbearable to look at. The words echoed like a warning in his head as he sat on the visitor’s chair. She chose to hurt you.

“I started seeing a therapist,” Shoto said.

“I’m sure it will be good for you,” Rei replied. “Being a hero is difficult, but I know you can do it.”

Shoto nodded. “It’s been… helping so far.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I… I barely even know you.”

Rei looked down sadly. “I wish you had visited, but I understand why Enji didn’t let you.”

“I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Oh,” she said slowly. “Then you can visit more often from now on. I’m sorry you thought you couldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

Shoto was quiet for a long time before Rei felt the need to fill the silence. “I saw the sports festival.”

“You said you didn’t recognize me.”

“I’m sorry, sometimes my meds mess with me.”

“Oh.”

“Do you like that boy you kissed?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s fine. As long as you marry in your twenties it won’t have any effect on your career.” She paused and then added wistfully, “Sometimes I think your father and I married too young.”

“What if I’m gay?”

She smiled softly again. “Then we find you a very understanding wife.”

Shoto frowned. “I wouldn’t want to cheat on someone I’m married to.”

“It’s not cheating if she agrees to it,” she told him. “Your father had a similar clause in our prenup. ‘Discreet non-productive extra-marital relationships.’ It’s a nice way to put it, isn’t it? And the wording was such that it applied to both of us. Not that either of us used it. He’s a gentle soul at heart.”

Shoto scoffed at that. “Sure, he makes it okay to cheat on you as long as it doesn’t affect his career. He’s just so kind and caring.”

“I could have done a lot worse, you know.”

“He hit you.”

“He was stressed.”

“That’s no excuse,” Shoto snapped.

Rei flinched and curled in on herself.

“Mom, I’m sorry,” Shoto said. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“No, it’s okay. I, I understand. Of course, you’re going to be emotional. This is a lot to deal with.” Rei paused before adding, “Your father had a lot to deal with, too.”

Emotions swirled inside Shoto. He didn’t want to be like his father. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.” He stood to leave.

“Come see me again, please. I miss you.”

“Yeah. Sunday?” he asked feeling a little numb.

“That would be lovely.”

 

Izuku got a text from Todoroki as he was making lunch with his mother.

I think my mom is trying to get me to forgive my old man.

That’s something he’ll have to earn, not something you need to give him, Izuku replied.

I snapped at her. She said she understood me being upset and then compared it to him being stressed from work. Midoriya, I don’t want to be like him.

You’re not. And call me Izuku.

But what if I become like him? I don’t want to hurt anyone.

Call Hound Dog. I know from Kacchan that he did counseling sessions with you guys. Kacchan said it was super helpful. Izuku set his phone on the counter to flip the rolled omelet. Inko couldn’t help but peek at it.

I can’t imagine Bakugo saying that.

Sure, that’s not how he phrased it, but I know what he meant. Call, please.

There was a long pause before Todoroki’s reply. He said he can see me today. I want to tell my sister that we went on a date if she asks where I was.

Izuku quickly looked up the movies playing at the mall cinema and found none of them appealing. Lunch at the mall food court, and hitting the arcade? I talked you into DDR, and neither of us was very good at it, but we had fun.

Sounds perfect. We should do that sometime.

Friday?

It’s a date.

“Izuku? Are you sure you should be helping him lie to his family?”

“I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but he needs to see the counselor and if this makes him more comfortable doing it, I’m willing. At least in the short term.”

“Alright, sweetie. Just make sure you don’t do it too much.”

“I’ll talk to you about it, whenever we do, how’s that?”

“Good. I’m glad I can be here for you.”

 

Bakugo was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He lay on his bed after breakfast fiddling with the silver medal. He’d always been the best at everything before.

Now you’re finally around people with the same caliber of quirks as you. I’ll bet it’ll be nice to not be the big fish in the little pond anymore, Kacchan. There is no shame in second place. Doing your best is more important than being the best. Deku and All Might’s words seemed to haunt him. Taunt him.

Bakugo was supposed to be the best. “I’m not weak,” he told himself. “I’m not weak,” he repeated. “I’m not weak. I’m not weak! I’m not weak! I’m not weak! I’m not weak! I’m not weak!” He said it over and over, his raising voice barely covered by the trashy music he’d put on. He chucked the medal across the room.

Tears stung his eyes. He scrubbed his sleeve over them. Bakugo caught sight of the shelves brimming with his past trophies and awards.

He swept each shelf clear with no consideration for the noise. Sports trophies, academic awards, and civic achievement plaques thudded to the floor with each careless swipe.

“Katsuki! For fuck’s sake keep it down!” his mother shouted from downstairs.

“Fuck off, you old hag!” Bakugo retorted out of habit. His voice cracked with emotion. Bakugo collapsed to the floor and sobbed, all the while spewing a litany of expletives. “Fucking Mutt is going to have a field day with this.”

After what seemed like hours, there was a timid knock at the door. Luckily, the music had stopped some time ago.

“Fuck off.”

The door creaked open. “Hey, Katsuki,” his father said stepping in. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Then, let me help you clean up,” he said bending down to pick up a certificate off the floor.

“No.” Bakugo reached up and snatched the paper, crumpling it into a ball.

“Now, Katsuki, that might work with your mother, but it won’t fly with me. I’ve got all night, what’s bothering you?”

“Fine! You wanna help? Get me a box for this trash,” he snapped, pushing himself off the floor. “You and Mom can go through it for whatever you wanna keep because it’s all meaningless to me.”

“That’s not true. What about this?”  Masaru held up an award from his music tutor.

“I guess that’s okay, Raho-sensei wouldn’t lie about me being good. Would he?”

“No, son. His reputation would be severely damaged if his pupils couldn’t compete.” Masaru sighed. “Is that what this is about? That you didn’t win?”

“No! I’m not a sore loser.”

“You’ve always won so easily,” he mused. “Remember when you first started music lessons?”

“Yeah. I hated it, but you insisted I go.”

“It was the first thing you tried that you hadn’t just taken to like you were born doing it. You were struggling for the first time. You wanted to stop, but you kept going, and I have never been prouder of you. You were never his best student, but you were so determined. You gave it your all.”

Doing your best is more important than being the best. Bakugo smiled. Suddenly, All Might’s words didn’t seem like ridicule anymore.

His dad smiled back. “Now, let’s get this cleaned up and go start lunch. We can make whatever you’d like.”

“Can we get take-out?” he asked almost shyly as he started picking up the numerous trophies.

“Sure. Did you have somewhere in particular in mind?”

“The Switch Café & Bistro. They have a whole section for spicy stuff. I love their Cajun sweet potato fries.”

“As long as they have sushi your mom won’t complain.”

“Cool.”

The pair sorted out what to display, what to store, and what to throw away. The top shelf only held the silver medal, the hologram acceptance letter from Yuuei, and the autographed photo of All Might. The next shelf was for his music awards, the first pair of drumsticks he bought, and some sheet music Raho-sensei had given him. The rest was bare, but Bakugo felt better.

 

Enji Todoroki was seething. All Might’s accusations and that boy’s dismissal rattled around in the back of his mind as if haunting him. Was he easy to provoke? How had a seemingly quirkless boy gotten third place in the sports festival? He was tempted to put a bid in for the boy’s internship.

But no, he would focus on Shoto. How had Shoto gotten so many fans from that boy’s class? When had he practiced with his fire? It was all so frustrating.

A text from Fuyumi distracted him from his thoughts. And enraged him further. Shoto had gone to see his mother without telling him and he was going on a date with that boy. His son’s rebellion wasn’t over; if anything, it was getting worse.

He sighed and pushed his family troubles aside, it was time for his afternoon patrol.

              

Shota hated waiting. He always started to worry when he did. So, when he’d arrived at the little cafe early he ordered a black coffee, set a timer on his phone for twenty minutes, and hunkered down in the dark brown jacket Hizashi bought him. A nap was the perfect way to pass the time.

He jolted awake, silenced the chirping of his phone on autopilot, and double-checked the time. Shota sipped his now cold coffee. Slowly, he drained his cup.

He was getting worried. Not that something had happened to them; they were only fifteen minutes late. No, he was starting to worry that they weren’t coming. That they had figured out he wasn’t worth the time or effort. He tried reminding himself that Hizashi loved him, this was just his anxiety talking. If nothing else, Hizashi would show up.

To give him the key card to the condo and let him know when he would be picking up his stuff. Shota tried to still the treacherous part of his mind. Hizashi would tell him if anything was wrong. So Shota could fix it; they had a healthy relationship this time. Not like in college when they would both stress about every little thing, compounding the other’s stress. When Hizashi let the guilt eat him up inside until he burst and tearfully confessed to having a crush on someone as if it were cheating, he would spiral for days before telling Hizashi coldly to just leave him already. And Shota would neglect him in favor of studying, patrolling, keeping up with the news on his phone, or just anything to keep his brain busy, making Hizashi worry that he had lost interest. 

How could Hizashi want someone that treated him like that? He deserved better. He could have better, now too. After all, Shota had started flirting with Toshinori, and now the three of them were supposed to be on a date. But it was twenty minutes after the time they’d agreed on, and Hizashi knew, now, what happened when Shota was left with just his thoughts. Hizashi wasn’t coming; it was Shota’s fault, really. The two of them would be happier together; without him.

And Toshinori had even less reason to show up. He’d been snarky and rude to him from the start. Shota had even accused him of being inappropriate with one of the students, not once but twice. The second time on their first date no less. Of course, they didn’t want him. Who would?

Shota recognized the pattern and tried to remind himself of the people, the other people, who did want him around. His dad took him in when he didn’t have to (pity, his traitor brain told him). Oboro didn’t leave him, dying isn’t the same thing (he never got the chance). Nemuri bullied him into taking the job at Yuuei (more pity, and there’s always the chance that his dad put her up to it because they both knew he wasn’t making it on his own).

(And he was so dismissive of Tensei, even though he’s a great guy and really good for Nem. They must both hate him but Tensei is too polite to say anything. And now he’s injured, it’s the perfect time for Nem to slip out of his life).

Shakily, he pulled the pill bottle out of his pocket. He took one of the tiny pills out and put it under his tongue. Shota tried to dry his eyes, to make himself presentable for when (if) they showed up.  He set the bottle next to his cold coffee and focused on the dissolving pill.

“Shit.” He heard Hizashi before he saw him. He always heard Hizashi first. He kept his head down as the pair approached. This was it. They were going to leave him. At least they had the decency to let him know, so he wasn’t left in spiraling uncertainty. 

“Babe, I’m so sorry. Traffic was shit and I texted, but I should have called to be sure. I’m sorry.” Hizashi forwent a chair in favor of climbing right into Shota’s lap. “Is that your second one?”

Not sure if he meant the coffee or the medication, Shota shook his head.

Hizashi sighed, grabbing the bottle and tucking it back into Shota’s pocket. “I’ve told you before to take one right away. Geeze, Sho.  Call me next time, and every time! I’d rather get chewed out than have you hurt.”

“Sorry.”

“No baby, it’s not your turn to be sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I can’t take care of myself.”

“I’ll take care of you, you take care of me. It just works out better that way.”

“It was my fault we were late,” Toshinori confessed. “I forgot my pain meds. And we had a go back for them.”

“It’s fine,” Shota said quietly. “It’s important.”

“So are you,” Toshinori countered.

“Can we just order, I’m fine now,” Shota insisted.

“Sure thing, Sho.” Hizashi grabbed Shota’s menu and began looking at options. He didn’t seem to care if people stared. However, Shota would glare at anyone who did.

They quickly picked out their respective meals. Toshinori had hemmed and hawed a bit about the soup and half sandwich he ended up ordering but Shota told him the soups here were worth taking home.

Hizashi ordered for them when the waiter came up and pouted when they were offered another chair. He did, however, accept it. “So, you got to know Sho’s deep dark secrets, I guess it’s time to unpack my baggage,” he said as he settled into his chair.

“The two of you are certainly open about your issues.”

“Well, therapy helps,” Hizashi replied.

“So does being thirty,” Shota added. “We have seen some shit and learned how to deal. Mostly.”

“So anyway, let’s see. I’m mostly deaf without my hearing aids. I have codependency issues, ADHD, and sensory processing disorder,” Hizashi listed.

“He also can’t cook to save his life.”

“Says the man that can’t remember our neighbors’ names.”

Yagi chuckled. “My turn, I guess?”

“Only if you’re comfortable, big guy,” Hizashi told him.

“Well, I haven’t been to therapy so I don’t know for sure, but uh, I’ve read up on imposter syndrome, and I’m sure I’ve got some leftover childhood trauma.”

“Who doesn’t?” Shota asked.

“People with good parents?” Hizashi suggested.

“Name one.”

“You wouldn’t remember their names,” he pointed out.

Shota snorted with laughter. “Ass.”

“And a very sexy one if I do say so myself.”

Before they could continue, the waiter returned with their order. “Two black coffees, one salted caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream, grilled cheese with avocado on rye with a bowl of tomato soup, chicken salad on a croissant with grilled asparagus, and a Club on milk bread with a cup of vegetable miso.” He winked at Hizashi and set a small plate of macarons next to him. “Our spring flavors are sakura, plum, and strawberry.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Hizashi cooed.

Shota smiled. “Upselling or flirting?”

“I, uh, um…”

“It’s fine either way,” Hizashi assured him, touching the waiter’s forearm. “Sho’s just teasing anyway.”

“I wouldn’t want to presume,” the waiter said quietly.

“Sweetie, we’ve been coming here for four years. The owners know us, at least by order. I’ve slept with what, two, three of the waitstaff?” Hizashi smiled. “It’s hardly presumption.”

“The weekend baker, the older waitress – I wanna say Harumi-san – and the brothers. Not at the same time.”

“You’re such a romantic, Sho,” Hizashi sighed. “Its Haruhi-san, though. She is gorgeous so I get the confusion.”

Grinning, the waiter slipped Hizashi his number. “See you later.” He strutted off to another table.

“That’s quite the list,” Toshinori commented.

“Does that bother you?” Shota asked, likely more sharply than he intended. His emotions were still raw.

“Er – I,” he stuttered but Hizashi cut him off.

“I always use protection, except with Sho. And you’re the first person he’s even looked twice at in fifteen years.”

“I dated,” he said defensively.

“Nem and that stalker,” Hizashi waved it off. “You have very specific tastes, my little demigod.”

Shota blushed and stared at his sandwich.

“So cute!” Hizashi leaned over and tilted his head up. He kissed Shota’s cheeks. “I love you so much, babe.”

“Love you too.”

 

Rei Todoroki tossed and turned in her sleep. The nightmare repeated over and over. Shoto walked into the kitchen as she was on the phone with her mother. … And Shoto, that child’s left side sometimes feels unbearable to me. All I can see is his father. I can’t raise him anymore. I want to run away from this life.

“Mom? What are you saying?” his tiny voice had asked.

The kettle shrilled at that moment. Her mind shied away from the horrors that followed.

Chapter 35: What's in a Name

The passengers wobbled in time to the rhythmic chik-chik-chik as the train sped down the tracks. The window vibrated against his head as the train trundled along toward the station at the bottom of the hill to Yuuei. Izuku watched lazily – glad for the cover provided by his Fat Gum hoodie - as Bakugo was swarmed by adoring fans.

“You got second place in the Sports Festival,” a college student said, the excitement in his voice clearly lost on Bakugo.

“That spinning move is so cool, I didn’t know you worked on Ultimate Moves so early at Yuuei,” someone else piped up.

Bakugo floundered under the onslaught of attention and started growling. His fingers flexed as he geared up to let off a few warning pops.

Izuku pushed off the train wall behind him. “Kacchan, our stop is coming up. We don’t want to be late.” He bent his knees a little and wrapped his arms around Bakugo’s waist. Standing straight, he lifted him and turned to shoulder his way to the door.

“Put me down, Deku.”

“Oh, are those your hero names?” a young housewife asked. “They’re so cute. Like ‘I can do it,’ and ‘Lil' Victory’. They suit you.”

Izuku almost dropped Bakugo.

“Don’t you dare call him that,” Bakugo snarled.

“Wha?”

“Easy, Kacchan,” Izuku tightened his hold. “Remember, calming and comforting civilians is part of the job.” He turned so he could see the woman. “We haven’t chosen hero names yet, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” she repeated. “I’m not that old, am I?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, his viscous grin hidden by Bakugo’s back, “thirty’s not old.”

The train rocked to a halt. The breaks hissed as the passengers murmured.

“I, I’m twenty-six.”

The doors opened and Izuku carried Bakugo off and across the platform. “I said put me down!”

“No quirk use in public, Kacchan~!”

 

Yamada-sensei was already in class when the first of his students arrived. “Ariyama-chan, thank goodness you’re early. I might still have time for my coffee!” he grinned as he waved her over. “So, no doubt you know that your little bull’s-eye is going around on all the social media sites.” He waited while she lowered her gaze and looked repentant. “You will have detention today and tomorrow. You’re going to write an essay on what you did, why it was wrong, and what you’ll do differently in the future. Okay?”

She nodded, her antennae bobbing with the movement.

“Good. Honestly, it took Nezu nearly an hour to scrub all the footage that caught you. Do better next time.” He patted her head.

Ariyama looked up in surprise. “You’re not mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. What I am is an adult, and would be charged as one.”

Izuku snorted. “I think Himura-chan passes by that coffee shop you like on her way in. I can text her.”

“That’s okay, I won’t be long.” He tried to wave his students off, but then he stopped. “Oh, but I do need to get four of you over to the hero course…”

“It’s caramel, right?” Ariyama asked.

“A caramel macchiato, yeah.”

“Damn,” Arioku muttered. She fiddled with her Inventory. “I guessed wrong. I only have a caramel mocha.”

“You know what? I’ll take it.” Yamada-sensei grinned. “Thanks!”

 

Bakugo was practically growling in his seat. Deku had some nerve to carry him all the way up the hill, and then acting like it was no sweat. He was lucky no one else saw.

“It’s different when they broadcast the matches on TV after all, huh?” Raccoon Eyes was saying. “So many people talked to me on the way here!”

“Yeah, me too!” Shitty Hair nodded.

“People were staring at me, too. It was kinda embarrassing!” The empty seat in front of him added.

“Isn’t that normal for you, Hagakure?” Tail asked quietly.

“After just one day, we’ve suddenly been thrust into the spotlight, huh?”  Dunce Face asked.

“Some of us,” Pervy Grape said sourly.

The door slid open forcefully. The class jumped to their seats. “Morning,” Aizawa said tiredly. He was almost entirely free of bandages and had a very prominent scar under his right eye. Brain Fucker and Deku scurried in behind him.

“Good morning!” The class called back in unison. 

Brain Fucker went straight to soon his to be assigned seat in the front of the third row. Deku paused awkwardly, unsure of where he should go until Aizawa nodded and subtly gestured to Bakugo. It was impressive that Deku caught the gesture, as he wasn’t looking at the teacher. Not that he’d tell the nerd. Deku assessed his options for a moment before turning Bakugo’s leg out and perching on his knee. Aizawa frowned but didn’t comment. Bakugo let it slide without as much as a token crackle.

“Ribbit?” Frog-Girl croaked curiously. “Aizawa-sensei your bandages are gone. I’m glad.”

He scratched under the other eye, discreetly showing the bandage still wrapped around his forearm. “The old lady overdid it with her treatment.” He lowered his hand. “More importantly, we’re having a special hero informatics class today.” He paused; either for dramatic effect or to let the students sweat over the possibility of a pop quiz. His face remained inscrutably neutral. “Code names.” There was another pause while the information sunk in. “You’ll be coming up with hero names.”

“We’re going to do something exciting!” the class cheered, jumping up in their seats. Aizawa’s eyes flashed red and his hair floated up. “Death,” they whispered as they settled down and folded their hands in front of them.

“This is related to the pro hero draft picks I mentioned the other day. The drafts begin in earnest in the second and third years, after students gain experience and can become immediate assets to the pros. In other words, for them to extend offers to first-years like you shows that they are interested in your future potential. These offers are often canceled if that interest dies down by graduation.”

“Stupid selfish adults,” Pervy Grape muttered, smacking his desk.

Deku giggled.

“So, we’ll have to prove ourselves once we get picked, huh?” the Remaining Empty Seat asked, seriously. 

“That’s right. And here are the totals for those with offers.” The totals appeared on the digital blackboard. He and Icy-hot had about four thousand bids each. The drop-off was steep, as the Bird, Glasses, and Dunce Face each had less than four hundred. The rest, that had any, all had fewer than a hundred. 

Bakugo noticed that both the nerd and Brain Fucker had a few bids.

“In other years, it’s been more spread out, but all eyes were on these two this year.”

“Gah! There’s such a big difference!” Dunce Face groaned.

“You’re amazing Todoroki,” Ponytail said. 

“They’re all probably because of my dad.”

Bakugo reached over the Empty Desk – Deku stood up as if he had jumped at the comment as well – and slapped Half-and-Half in the back of his head. He gave off a light crackle as he pulled his hand away. “Don’t be stupid, Half ‘n’ Half. They bid for you because you beat me.”

“Bad Shoto-kun,” Deku admonished, “You have value of your own.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” he replied dryly. 

At that the pair settled back down into their one chair; this time with Bakugo sitting on Deku’s lap. “You’re so heavy.”

On the other side of the room, Round Face was shaking Four Eyes while chanting, “We got offers. Somebody wants us!”

“Even our gen. ed. boys got some,” Ears said.

“I didn’t get any?” Pervy Grape whined. “That stupid octopus ruined my shot.”

Brain Fucker and Deku whip around to glare at him. Deku snapped, “Watch your mouth, extra.”

Aizawa cleared his throat warningly. “Keeping these results in mind, whether or not anyone made an offer for you, you will all be participating in internships with pros.”

“Internships?” several students asked.

“Yeah,” Aizawa confirmed. “At the USJ, you - most of you - already got to experience combat with real villains but it will still be meaningful training for you to see pros at work firsthand.”

“That explains the hero names!”  Sweet Tooth blurted out.

“Things are suddenly getting a lot more fun!” Pink Cheeks chirped.

“Well, these hero names are still temporary, but if you’re not serious about it-”

“You’ll have hell to pay later!” Midnight barged into the room. “Because a lot of hero names used by students become recognized by society, and they end up becoming professional hero names.”

“Well, that’s how it is,” Aizawa said. He pulled a sleeping bag from under his desk. “So, Midnight will be making sure your names are okay. I can’t do stuff like that.” He stepped into the bag and began zipping it up. “When you give yourself a name, you get a more concrete image of what you want to be like in the future, and you can get closer to it. This is what it means when they say ‘names and natures do often agree.’ Like All Might for example.”

Aizawa laid down as Midnight handed dry-erase boards and markers to the front row. He settled into a sitting position against the wall.

“Okay,” Midnight took over. “Let’s start presenting our names, beginning with anyone who’s ready.”

Several students were shocked that they would have to present their names but Sparkles just sauntered up to the front and announced that he was, “The Shining Hero: I cannot stop twinkling!”

Bakugo rolled his eyes. It was both stupid and too long. Instead of rejecting it, though, Midnight just shortened it. As far as Bakugo was concerned, Sparkles’ hero name was Twinkle.

“Twink,” Brain Fucker said.

Deku laughed. “Every codename will have to survive the comms and one-syllable tests.”

Midnight nodded at him, “It’s true that you should think about what other heroes will end up shouting during an emergency, but that shouldn’t stop you from being creative.”

Raccoon Eyes skipped up happily with, ‘Alien Queen’. And was surprised when it was rejected. 

“Dang it,” She grumbled trudging back to her desk. Bakugo privately agreed with her, calling on the image of an acid-blooded monster and playing up the fact that she looked out of this world was a solid move.

Frog-Girl was next. “I’ve had this name in mind since elementary school. Rainy Season Hero: Froppy.”

Midnight cooed over the name. “That’s so cute! A friendly name that everyone will love!”

The class chanted, “Froppy, Froppy, Froppy!” Bakugo didn’t join in; he thought the name was a bit silly. Childish. He glared at his blank board.

As she sat down, Shitty Hair stood up. “Sturdy Hero: Red Riot!”

“Oh, you’re paying homage to the Chivalrous Hero: Crimson Riot, huh?” Midnight asked. 

“Yeah,” he replied, almost ducking his head sheepishly. “It’s pretty old-fashioned but the hero image I’m going for is Crimson himself.”

Midnight nodded. “If you’re bearing a name you admire, it will come with that much more pressure.”

“I’m prepared for that,” Shitty Hair declared, giving an adorable wink and a manly thumbs up.

Sparky groaned. “Man, I haven’t thought of a name yet.”

Ears rubbed the scar on her ear lobe and replied, “I’m sure you’ll come up with something great. You’re a powerful hero, and look how many offers you got!”

“Thanks, Jiro,” he said, looking like that reminder added more anxiety. 

“Kyouka,” she corrected.

Sparky blushed like an idiot and Ears took that moment to make her way to the front.

“The Hearing Hero:” That sounded stupid, “Earphone Jack.”

Ears it was.

“That’s good!” Midnight told her. “Next!”

Octo-arms went next, with a not-half-bad portmanteau. “Tentacle Hero: Tentacole.” Then, Soy Sauce with “Taping Hero: Cellophane!”

“Nice and simple,” Midnight cooed. 

“Boring and on the nose,” Bakugo translated, he heard a muttered echo in his ear and remembered that he was sitting on Deku’s lap. 

Tail solidified his nickname by choosing “Martial Arts Hero: Tailman!”

As did Sweet Tooth with “Sweets Hero: Sugarman!”

“So sweet!” Midnight approved. Again. Bakugo was beginning to think that she just liked cutesy names.

“Pinky!” Raccoon Eyes slammed her board on the podium. 

“Peachy pink complexion!” Midnight gave it a thumbs up.

“So, Pikachu can be Clyde, but who is Inky and Blinky?” Bakugo asked as she sat down. Raccoon Eyes laughed.

“Kirishima and Sero, of course,” Deku supplied.

“It’s not Clyde, but,” Sparky displayed his board, “the Stungun Hero: Chargebolt!”

Next was the Empty Seat, calling herself, “Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl!”

It was a bit on the nose but fit her personality. 

“That’s Great! Come on let’s keep it going!” Midnight encouraged when no one stood up.

The half-and-half bastard trudged up to the podium like it was his funeral. “Shoto.”

“Are you sure?” Midnight started to ask but Bakugo shouted over her.

“Bullshit,” Bakugo jumped up again, “you half-and-half bastard, your name is Icy Hot! Better get used to it.”

He frowned for a moment and crossed out his name. He wrote quickly, but hesitantly said, “Frostburn.”

Bakugo nodded, and Deku cheered behind him; taking the opportunity to move to the desk.

Icy-hot muttered, “Thanks,” as he sat down.

Ponytail was next. “I hope I can live up to this name,” she said nervously.  “Everything Hero: Creati!”

“Creative!” Midnight approved. 

The bird got his nickname changed to Hot Topic with, “Jet-black Hero: Tsukuyomi.”

“God of the night!” Midnight cheered.

Pervy Grape cemented his nickname with, “The fresh picked hero: Grape Juice.”

“Very kitschy!” Midnight said.

Rock Face trembled, and couldn’t even say his. But Midnight gave ‘Petting Hero: Anima’ a pass. 

Bakugo finally bit the bullet, there had been a lot stupider names than his. “King Explosion Murder.”

Immediately Deku was laughing.  Midnight said, “You probably shouldn’t use something like that.”

“Why not?”

“You should be Explosion-Boy!” Shitty Hair shouted.

“Or Blasty Bitch,” Brain Fucker teased.

“Fuck you, Shitty Zombie!”

“Chunibyo~,” Deku taunted.

“Boys, language,” Midnight chided. “It’s too violent, Bakugo.”

Bakugo stomped back to his seat. “Like you’re any better.”

Deku grinned at him. “That would be fair, but we haven’t talked about this stuff since we were four, so, your info is a little outdated.” He stood and strode to the podium.  “The Smiling Hero: Cheshire.”

Midnight frowned. “That’s an excellent choice but it doesn’t exactly say anything about you.”

“Well, I fell down a rabbit hole to get here, but I’m not about to play Alice. I know my way around this madness.” Deku flashed her a wide, bright smile. “I’m following in the footsteps of a blond rabbit, and the door mouse is running the tea party, but I think the metaphor works.”

“If you’re sure,” she replied unsurely.

“I’m going to be a pretty underground hero, given my quirk, so I only have to please myself, not a fan base.”

Midnight nodded solemnly to him, and Bakugo was sure he saw Aizawa smirking as Deku walked away to perch on his desk again.

Next was Round Face. She smashed Uraraka into gravity and came up with, “Uravity!”

“Sounds Stylish.” Midnight checked the clock. “Choosing hero names is going smoother than I thought it would. All that’s left are Bakugo, who needs to rethink his, Iida and Shinso, right?”

Glasses went up solemnly with, “Tenya.”

“Tenya…” Midnight said reaching her hand out to him. A pained, almost sorrowful look on her face; she must really hate heroes going by their given name. “Tenya-kun, are you sure that’s okay?”

He turned his shoulder away from her and she dropped her hand. “Yes.”

Midnight frowned and looked like she wanted to push the issue but in the end, she dropped it. “Alright.” She turned to Brain Fucker. “Shinso, are you ready?”

“Kinda, I’ve narrowed it down to three.” He made his way to the podium anyway. “Question, Mindjack, or Mimic.”

“Question might give away too much about your quirk,” Midnight assessed. “Where is Mimic coming from?”

“A piece of support gear that lets me sound like someone else without interfering with my quirk.”

“How about, Mimic Hero: Mindjack?” She suggested. 

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing I could call myself, right Onii-san?”

“Shut up, Brain Fucker.”

“Bakugo language,” Midnight admonished. “Have you come up with something yet?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” He showed his board to Deku, who nodded his approval. Bakugo made his way to the podium, again. He slammed his board down. “Explosive Hero: Ground Zero.”

“Very nice.”

“Now that everyone has decided on their hero names,” Aizawa said standing up, “we’ll go back to talking about the internships. They last for a week. As for where you’ll have them, those who have offers from pros will be given your own lists. So you can choose from those yourself. Those who didn’t have offers will choose from among forty agencies around the country that will be accepting our interns. They all work in different places and have different specialties.”

“For example, Thirteen would be focused on rescue from accidents and disasters more than fighting villains,” Midnight added.

“Think carefully before you choose,” Aizawa instructed. 

“Yes, sir!” the class responded in unison. They began chatting as the lists were passed out.

“I want to fight crime in urban areas,” Shitty Hair declared. 

“I hope I can intern in a place with floods,” Froggy said. “I wonder if there are any?”

Bakugo glared at his list. He had no idea how to choose, or even what he wanted from this internship.

“Turn your choices in before the weekend,” Aizawa said tiredly. 

“We only have two days?” Sparky said, in a bit of a panic. It was a short amount of time for those with long lists. It was likely set up with just a few offers in mind, and the backup list.

Aizawa nodded. “Make your decision efficiently. Dismissed.”

As the door slammed shut, the class erupted in quiet activity. Deku was muttering about how to sort through his piddly twenty-seven offers.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get any offers, Mina,” Tail commented. “You did awesome at the sports festival.”

“I know,” Racoon Eyes replied, clearly miffed. “It looks like the offers are focused on the people that made it to the third round. The rest of the festival doesn’t even matter.”

Round Face was eagerly telling an indifferent Glasses, “I’m going to intern with the Battle Hero: Gunhead!”

“Don’t you wanna be a rescue hero, like Thirteen?” Sweet Tooth asked.

“Yeah, but I figured I would be more effective if I was well-rounded,” she answered. “I mean, Mina is right, only the combat-oriented participants got offers.”

“Oh, here,” Midnight said walking over to Pervy Grape, “Hound Dog pulled some strings to get you an offer that will focus more on your particular goals.” She handed him the paper with a slightly off-put look on her face. “If you accept that, just remember that you, and your behavior, represent Yuuei.”

“Huh?”

“He’s… got a reputation,” Aizawa said with a smirk. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Who’s Wildfire?” Pervy Grape asked.

Deku nearly fell off the desk. “The Teflon hero? Seriously? I’m shocked that Yuuei even accepted, let alone courted a bid from him.”

“He may party a bit much but the more outlandish rumors are false,” Midnight assured them.

“I should hope so,” Deku replied. He began chewing on his thumb and muttering. “He’s never even had a sidekick so those rumors must be baseless, but he’s almost always photographed with a girl or two and a drink in hand, but that could all be to cultivate the playboy image. Still, most of his expenses are reportedly legal fees and PR agencies…”

Bakugo glared at the packet in front of him. More than three thousand offers lay blankly on the page. The name of the hero and their agency were all that the paper told him.

“Deku, are you done with your trash offers yet?” He asked, turning around.

“Almost,” was his reply, not looking up. “I found a very appealing first choice, but the backups are a little more difficult.”

“Help me with mine,” Bakugo muttered.

Deku stopped. He looked up at him. “Yeah, sure, no problem,” he said instead of pretending to not hear him to make him repeat it. “Get a highlighter. Skim through the offers, and highlight any names you recognize straight away. You won’t respect some nameless nobody, and that’ll shorten your list considerably.”

Bakugo nodded and got to work. With fifty offers per page, it would still take him a while to get through the nearly eighty pages in front of him.

At the front of the row, Todoroki was sitting stock still, staring at the front page of his offers as if it had personally offended him. 

“What’s wrong, Icy-hot?”

“My father made an offer on me,” he replied. “I should take it to better learn how to control my fire.”

“Yeah, because he’s done a great job of it so far,” Bakugo said. “If he was going to teach you anything useful he’d have done by now.”

“Kacchan’s right,” Deku agreed. “Besides, if you want to spend a week shadowing your dad, you can do that during summer break. Make the most of this opportunity. Diversify your experiences and make your old man twist. Nothing says I’m not following in your footsteps like making industry connections without his help.”

Bakugo started humming softly as he highlighted. Shitty Hair picked it up quickly. “Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo.”

“See if you can find a fire and ice team on there. It would be nice if you could learn to use both halves of your quirk in concert,” Deku added. 

The class broke up for lunch with most of the students swinging by the teacher’s lounge to submit their choices. 

 

After lunch, 1-A plus Shinso and Izuku were shuttled to training ground gamma. “Most of you asked for alterations to your costumes. Some of you are wearing this outfit for the first time, and not just our Gen Ed transplants,” Aizawa told them.

Most of them glanced at Shinso and Izuku anyway. Shinso was wearing a fairly standard ninja outfit done in dark blues and grays to blend in better in urban environments. He had a capture scarf settled around his shoulders, and his calves and forearms were wrapped. He also had a tactical vest and kneepads on.

Izuku was a bit flashier. It started with a forest green hoodie with cat ears and orange markings reminiscent of the color blocking on All Might’s Young Age hero costume. That unzipped to reveal a black skintight sleeveless shirt styled after his Silver Age costume but with green markings. Black hakama pants continued the echoed markings smoothly. A green cat-themed half mask, shin guards, boots, and gloves completed the look. If he weren’t standing next to Bakugo, the shared color scheme would be easy to miss.

Yaoyorozu’s costume had also seen a complete overhaul. Hatsume’s signature steampunk touches were on full display. The base was a deep red bikini-cut one-piece made of closed-cell foam neoprene, fashioned to look like a corset with brass zippers and buckles instead of lacing. The boning was flexible but impact-absorbent titanium alloy and the channels were done in leather, as were the criss-crossing lines between them. Brass rivets studded the intersections. Her shoulder blades were completely bare. The little pops of white on the high collar and skirt were done in lace. The pteruges had a wide yoke secured with two rows of buttons and rivets running down the center of each wide strip of leather. Her well-insulated boots with built-in kneepads and shin guards, as well as her armguards (two Capsule Launcher Mark IIs) and half-palm gloves, were done in tan. There were brass caps on her knuckles and the toes of her boots. Slim brass goggles completed the costume.

Todoroki was wearing a blue jumpsuit instead of a white one. Kaminari had a new belt and some sort of launcher on his arm. Jiro had speakers on her gloves. Bakugo was wearing the noise-canceling communicators, even if they were discreet enough to go unnoticed. Asui’s costume was better insulated from heat and cold. Ojiro had added gloves and a first aid kit. Koda also added weighted gloves and kneepads to his outfit. Aoyama had turned his glasses into goggles. Mineta had added shoulder pads. More than half of the rest had at least added pouches or pockets for first aid kits.

“Today’s lesson will be simple. It’s mostly so I’m not sending anyone out into the field in an untested costume, but it’ll work on teamwork as well. Bakugo and Todoroki will pick teams. You’ll be hunting down flags.” He held up a triangular flag the size of his hand. “Keep an eye out for unexpected complications. Get to it.” Aizawa leaned against the wall of the training ground.

“Alright, Deku, you’re with me,” Bakugo barked.

Todoroki frowned. “I wanted Midoriya,” he said quietly. “Yaoyorozu,” he called.

“Shitty Hair.”

“Nope. Not unless you say my name,” Kirishima replied.

Bakugo growled, but Izuku whispered, “Don’t lose us Eijiro-kun due to your pride.”

“Eijiro, get your ass over here.”

Mina shoved him forward as he gaped at Bakugo. It was the first time he’d called any of them by name.

The class was quickly divided, after that. Bakugo took Izuku’s advice to pick Iida and Asui over Shoji. Tokoyami, Uraraka, Mina, Ojiro, and Koda made up the rest of their team. It was fun for them to leap, climb, and run through the mock city and the low stakes of pride were a nice change of pace as well.

Chapter 36: Ready, Set, Go

As Izuku opened the classroom door to leave, there was a whoosh of air, and All Might was bent in half. Eye-level to Izuku he loudly declared, “I am here! In an unusual position!”

Startled, Izuku put his hand over All Might’s face and pushed him backward. “Too loud.”

“Er, sorry, Midoriya, my boy,” he said sheepishly. 

“I’m headed to the support department, did you need something?” Izuku couldn’t help the grin that split his face at the sight of All Might. He cut a dashing figure in a well-tailored white button-up and slacks. Izuku could appreciate it now that he wasn’t facing off against him.

“Just a moment of your time,” All Might replied.  

“Sure, we can walk and talk,” he said. “Shinso, I’ll meet you at the workshop.”

“You will meet me at the entrance to the support department,” he corrected.

“Coward.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t grow up with explode-o-boy on my ass.”

Bakugo shoulder-checked him as he pushed by to head to the library with Kirishima. “Pussy.”

“That’s no way to talk to your classmates, young Bakugo,” All Might chided.

Bakugo turned and started to justify himself when Izuku put a hand on his shoulder. “Is it the swearing you object to or the name-calling? Because if it’s the name-calling, Kacchan didn’t say anything worse than I did. And if it’s the swearing, Shinso started it.”

“I suppose you’re right,” All Might agreed. “You should all be more careful about teasing your classmates.”

Izuku nodded. Bakugo turned to Shinso, “You’ll let me know if you can’t handle it, right?”

“I can take anything you can dish out, Onii-san.”

Izuku pulled All Might away before he could become invested in the continued taunting. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Right.” All Might lead him to an empty hallway. Once they were alone, he began to explain, “My old mentor saw your performance. You didn’t use One for All in the festival.”

“Of course not. I don’t want to publicly début a quirk I won’t even have in a year.” Izuku gave him a lopsided grin that was somehow both warm and self-deprecating.

“You still think that?”

“I know it.”

“I wish there was a way to convince you.”

“Give it a year,” he said softly. “Or two.”

All Might chuckled. “Okay, okay. I won’t take it away, besides One for All can’t be taken by force.”

“I’ll keep my word. I…” he shook his head. “Let’s not get into this now.”

“Yeah...” He paused and turned away from Izuku. “So, my old mentor… He was a teacher here at Yuuei for just one year. He was my homeroom teacher and knows about One for All.” All Might started to shake. He began to talk to himself. “Was it because I wrote about you when I sent him the letter? Or because he couldn’t just stand by and watch my inadequate teaching? If he went so far as to use his old name to make an offer…”

Izuku moved up beside him, making plenty of noise to not startle All Might. “Hey, it’s okay. Take a nice deep breath for me and let it out slowly. Good.” He reached over and began rubbing circles on the small of his back. “This guy is clearly a trigger for you.”

“I’m fine, it’s nothing. I’m being ridiculous.” 

“No, you’re not. Triggers are no joke. And just because he’s, probably, not the cause of your trauma doesn’t mean he doesn’t trigger the memory of it,” Izuku told him softly. “I have to fight myself every time I go free running. If my feet leave the ground, I have a little panic attack. And it’s a common enough ailment in the hero industry that most large agencies have started hiring in-house mental health professionals to combat it. Even Endeavor’s got one.”

All Might’s breathing evened out.  “It’s just, he put in a bid for your internship.” He nervously handed Izuku a slip of paper. 

“Oh. Um, I already submitted my selection. Sorry,” Izuku said, sheepishly. He hunched his shoulders and tucked his elbows in making him look nearly as small as when they first met. Izuku shook himself and stood up straight. “Um, well, there was a lot of interest in me. I got twenty-seven bids! I didn’t think it was fair to make them wait for an answer. Sorry for making you go through all that anxiety for nothing.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” All Might reassured him. “So, who are you interning with, anyway?” 

“I, uh, with Sir Nighteye.”

“My old sidekick?”

“Yeah! I thought he might have insights about your quirk, but even if he doesn’t he still has to fight without a quirk, so I’ll learn a lot from him.”

All Might was quiet for a long moment. “I’m not sure how that will go over. We didn’t part on the best of terms, and he was one of the people who recommended Mirio to me.”

“I’m used to a bit of bullying,” Izuku said stoically. “He seems professional enough, though. It shouldn’t be too bad. Plus, he reached out to me. Even if he’s just trying to get my measure, it means he’s giving me a chance, right? I can handle it if he’s hard on me.”

“Your optimism is infectious. I feel like I could almost patch things up with him.”

“Well, if it’s not too personal, what was your dispute over?”

“Ah, um.” All Might rubbed the back of his neck. “My injury.”

“Oh. He wanted you to retire.”

All Might nodded. 

“You are now, maybe you should call him, to let him know. It would be better if he heard it from you, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah it would.”

Aizawa tilted his head back and dropped his eyedrops into both eyes. More than half of his class had already submitted their selections. So far, most of them had been solid choices that he approved of.

Behind him, Snipe asked, “Internships?”

“Yeah,” Aizawa replied. 

“It’s an important event. Make sure they think about it properly. Some third years still have regrets about it.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “The agency Iida wants to go to… it’s the only one he put down, but I’m sure he got offers from better places.”

He showed the page to Snipe. “It’s in Hosu. Don’t tell me...” 

“Yeah. I’ll have Inui talk to him tomorrow, but there isn’t any real reason to reject his decision other than that.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

Aizawa shrugged. “It might be nothing. It might help him. Inui will make sure his head is screwed on straight.”

 

“Mitsuno-sensei?” Kyoka asked as she knocked on the training room door.

“Ah, Jiro. What can I do for you?” he said without turning his head toward her. He was kneeling in the center of the training room. About the room were six pairs of third-year students sparring.

“Um, we had a training exercise yesterday, mostly to familiarize us with our costumes.”

“Ah, I think I understand. I’m not much help in the fashion department. And you won’t have enough time for most alterations to be approved, but…” Mitsuno stood in a fluid motion. The third years stopped and gave him their full attention. “Honma, Fukutomi, a moment of your time. The rest of you, feel free to continue.”

The pair split from their partners, who began sparing with each other. One had mouse brown hair with a lavender streak and matching eyes behind big, round wire-frame glasses. The other practically looked like a living doll with palest pink hair, and cerise pink eyes that sparkled like gems.

“What can we do for our Kohai?”

"She just needs some basic alterations. Some protection against handsy thugs.”

“A full coverage, pliable, hard polymer armor system under her costume,” the petite one murmured.

“Yes, her costume is actually quite modest,” the bookish one replied. “Under Armor will do for now. And we can give her a full consultation when she gets back.”

“Good,” Mitsuno agreed. “Get her suited up. We can spar to get her used to moving in it.”

“Right,” the girls said in unison.

 

Izuku and Todoroki walked into the mall holding hands. Izuku had explained that it was a good way to get spotted by reporters and cause problems for Endeavor without giving them the ammunition to make Todoroki look like a slut, and cause them problems down the line.

They walked around for twenty minutes just window-shopping. Unlike being in public with Toga or Kurogiri, being out with Todoroki felt oddly freeing. He felt exposed, as he did with Kurogiri but without the edge of danger. He wasn’t keeping Todoroki on a short leash as he had Toga, but he also didn’t feel like he was being guarded as he did with Kurogiri. It almost felt like walking to the shops with Tomura, but Todoroki was reserved and serious instead of antisocial and grumpy.

Most of the first floor was taken up by a supermarket. Next to the stairs to the second level was a bank of gachapon machines. The boys scoured it for any interesting All Might merch. Izuku was looking to add more variety to his hero collection, too so the Top 10 Lotto was a good start. It had three ranks of prizes: A rank was figures – only All Might or Endeavor but in two variations –, B rank was rubber straps of Hawks, Best Jeanist, and Edgshot, and badges for six through ten. Izuku scored a few B and C rank prizes, but Todoroki got Endeavor’s winter costume on his first pull and moved on to another machine. He spent several hundred yen getting a cold soba key chain and a cute little flan for his sister.

The second floor was mostly clothing stores and home goods. That got the pair talking about what they liked to wear.

“Fiyumi picks out most of my clothes, to be honest. I don’t care what I wear.”

Izuku nodded. “Nobody likes my so-called style, but it’s comfy and cheap.”

“Like what you’re wearing now?”

Izuku looked down at his outfit to double-check what Toga had insisted he wear: a pair of skinny jeans and a tight red V-neck tee. “Actually, I had help picking this for our date. It’s not really my style. Like I said, I prefer comfy.”

“Maybe we could pick outfits for each other?”

“Sure, but there’s no pressure to buy anything. This is our first date after all.”

Todoroki nodded. “Comfy? So, like soft cotton.” He gravitated toward a rack of brightly colored sweatshirts and began feeling for softness. He picked up one that was bright orange with a white carrot on it. “This seems comfy.”

"Yeah, I like the color too." Izuku quickly picked out a teal tee with a navy pocket. “Pair it with jeans in any color, each makes a striking statement.”

He gave a small sigh as he touched the scar tissue under his eye. “I don’t care for the color.”

“Oh. Okay.” Izuku folded the shirt solemnly. “You are not unloved; you are just waiting for the right owner.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, um. When I was little, I’d feel bad for the things we’d try on but not buy, so Mom taught me that, to take the sting out. It’s not an unwanted item, we’re just not the right home for it.”

“Not the right home, huh?” Todoroki looked him up and down. “My brother used to have this light green polo shirt. Can we look at something like that?”

“Yeah, they’d be over here more.” Izuku led him deeper into the clothing department. “Okay, so lightweight or heavier? And were there any details you remember?”

“I think it was light, he was wearing it in the summer. I think it was plain.”

Izuku skimmed the tables and racks for solid-colored polo’s with no emblem or pocket. “Here we go. This one is pink, but is this the right style?”

“I think Natsuo’s only had two buttons, but yeah that’s about right.”

“Not a problem.” Izuku took another run at the plain polo’s. “Ah, what about this?” He held up a sage green two-button polo.

“It’s perfect.” Todoroki smiled, it was small and shy, but honest and beautiful.

Izuku blushed. “That was fun. Um, what do you wanna do next?”

Todoroki took the shirt up to the register as he contemplated the question. He's never been on a date before and wasn't sure how to proceed.

"Oh, um, you don't have to..." he stuttered.

"I know. I want to. It reminds me of Natsuo." he was still smiling so Izuku let it go. It cost less than the drinks being sold in the first real mall-style shop in the place, Fru Tea. They served a variety of tea, smoothies, and snacks.

After grabbing some bubble tea, they headed to the third floor for the main event: the arcade. Todoroki held their place in line while Izuku figured out what the easiest song was. They got to watch three other couples play before it was their turn at Dance Dance Revolution.

The two cute and athletic boys drew a small crowd, and Izuku was sure this would end up on social media. Both of them ended up treating it like footwork training, with Izuku keeping his fists up in a defensive position, and Todoroki reaching over to touch or squeeze his shoulder every few seconds.

When the song ended neither of them was even breathing hard. Izuku looked over at Todoroki with a big, feral grin. “This is going to be fun.”

Todoroki laughed.

 

“Mirai-ku– Sasaki-san,” Yagi corrected himself. “It’s Yagi. Can we talk?”

“Of course, All Might,” he replied in a tight professional tone.

After a long pause, he stuttered out, “I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t do this over the phone, you deserve better from me.”

“You are always welcome at my office,” Sasaki said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, if you’re sure,” Yagi said, almost bashfully. “Are, are you free this afternoon?”

“Yes. If you can be here by one we can do lunch.”

“I can make that. I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it.”

 

“How are you holding up?” Ryo asked into the awkward silence.

Iida was once again seated across from his desk. “I’m fine.”

“It’s natural to be upset about this.”

“My brother might never walk again. He certainly can’t be a hero anymore. I, I–. It’s only natural that I’d be… angry, sad, worried,” Iida admitted.  “Mostly, I’m just thinking about how unfair it all is. Tensei is a good person. He-he’s caring and kind. He’s what a hero should be. So why, why did this happen? What possible reason could there be?”

After some consideration, Ryo asked, “Are you going to Hosu to find answers?”

“I…” Iida lowered his head. “The call from my mother just keeps playing on loop: Your brother’s been attacked. We don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

“I don’t want to assign you a different internship, but I think it might be for the best.”

Iida’s head whipped up. He was clearly angry but tears had gathered at the corners of his eyes. “Please, I need this.”

“Why?”

“So it will make sense.”

“It’s a senseless act of violence. Even if you were to hear the reasoning from Stain himself it would never make sense to you.”

“I…” Iida fell silent and a defeated look passed over his face. He schooled his features into a determined expression. “Thank you, Inui-sensei, for your advice, but I do not believe that an internship elsewhere would be of any use. I will be too distracted by the thought of my brother’s injuries.”

“But you think you could get some use out of it in Hosu?” Ryo asked skeptically.

“My mind will certainly be more present there.”

Ryo sighed. “One session’s hardly going to solve anything, but it won’t do any good to fight about this either. I want you to know that you can talk to me. You can call the school at any time if you get overwhelmed and want to change your internship. Manual’s a good man and a fine hero, he’ll understand.” After a pause, he added, “I’m going to let him know in advance about your situation, okay?”

“That’s fine, Inui-sensei.”

 

Sasaki did not recognize the tall, nearly skeletal man that approached him. The hair – a short wild puff of blonde with two long bangs in the front – was the only indicator that this was the same person he’d last seen five years ago. His heart ached to see All Might like this.

“Sasaki-san! You’re looking well,” Yagi said, raising his long spindly arm in greeting.

“All … Yagi-san,” Sasaki returned. “Welcome. It’s no Might Tower, but it’s home.” Sasaki schooled his features as he led Yagi into the five-story building. The architecture was modern but sensible, much like Sasaki himself.

“It’s impressive enough,” Yagi said. “You own the whole building.”

“My severance was quite impressive; twice what I negotiated.”

Yagi flushed. “Well, I. I felt bad about our falling out even then. But –”

“I appreciate the gesture, sir,” Sasaki cut him off. “Then and now.” He nodded to his sidekicks as they walked by. He swiped his keycard for the elevator. “You didn’t come here just to apologize. What case are you working on that you need me?”

“I’m not. Oh, Sasaki-san. I’m so sorry. I, I came to tell you I’m retiring,” Yagi stammered. His voice was tight with emotion. “I hurt you so much.”

Sasaki leaned against the wall of the elevator. He blinked at Yagi as if that alone could give him a fresh look into the man’s future. Sasaki took a step forward reaching out his hand.

Yagi flinched but then steeled himself for the contact. “I’m sorry.”

“At the next Billboard charts?” He blinked away tears at Yagi’s nod. Sasaki let his hand drop to his side. “I know, then. Nothing’s changed. You can’t fight this. It will be soon now. This year.”

“Oh. Well. I…” Yagi trailed off. “I should go, I guess.”

“I never shut you out,” Sasaki said. “You don’t have to go.”

“But I hurt you so much, Mirai-kun.”

Sasaki smiled as the elevator stopped. “Losing you was always going to hurt.” He pushed off the wall and strode to his office. “I know you’ve been looking for a successor.”

“I found one.”

“Izuku Midoryia. He’ll be interning here.” Sasaki narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you came?”

“Well, no. Kind of. It’s not.” Yagi had several false starts. He took a steadying breath. “Gran Torino offered him an internship, but he had already picked you. He’s very excited about the prospect. He wasn’t deterred in the slightest when I told him we had had a falling out. He even encouraged me to tell you in person about my retirement.”

“You trust him a lot,” Sasaki cut in as he closed his office door behind them.

“He reminds me of you.”

Sasaki gave a derisive snort. “Hardly. The boy is reckless.”

“His quirk is rapid healing,” Yagi said. His hand reflexively gripped his scar.

“So he can avoid your fate?”

“That… was one thing I considered.” Yagi sighed. “I know you’re still mad at me. You have every right to be.”

“But don’t take it out on him?” Sasaki asked. “Is that what you came here to say?”

“I… I’m trying to mend fences, but I’m clearly not any good at it.”

Sasaki took a seat at the central desk out of the three. “You don’t need to,” he said softly. “I couldn’t watch you get yourself killed, but I was never angry. I’m scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of what will happen when you’re gone. You don’t seem to realize what you mean to me. To everyone.”

“Mirai-kun, sorry. Sasaki-san –”

“You can use my given name. I’d prefer it, Toshinori-san.”

“Mirai-kun, then. I have to say I prefer this to you calling me boss.”

Sasaki gave him a wistful smile. “We should order lunch. You still like brisket and grilled corn, right? There’s a place not far from here that does a decent job of it. I’ll have to send Bubble Girl to pick it up, but –”

Sasaki had picked up the phone as he spoke but stopped when Yagi placed his hand over the one dialing. “I’m touched that you remember, but I can’t eat that now. I can barely manage a pulled pork sandwich, and I can’t have corn at all. I brought a bento with me. I thought it would be less of a fuss.” He pulled the small clear plastic bento box. Sasaki could see that the divided areas weren’t full and one of them had a small bottle of water and a container of pills. There was one section of rolled omelet, approximately a fourth of a cup of grilled vegetables, and a similar amount of soba noodles with cubed chicken. “You can order from wherever you want. I need to take my pills at least twenty minutes before I eat anyway, so it should work out.”

“My apologies,” Sasaki said. “I was only thinking about myself.”

“No, no. It’s… a lot to deal with. It’s just easier to pack my own food.” Yagi opened his pills and water.

“I meant that I wasn’t thinking about how your injury affected you. I wasn’t thinking of you. I was thinking of what you meant to me, to everyone. I’m sorry, Toshinori.”

Yagi set his things down and moved around the desk. He wrapped his former sidekick in a tight hug. “I missed you, Mirai.”

 

“I know it’s a little early, but given the internships, I thought we could touch base before you leave,” Ryo said.

Mineta was sitting in the chair in front of his desk. “I haven’t given as many compliments as usual, because all this has made me self-conscious.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s not my intention to make you self-conscious. Why don’t you tell me what compliments you have given since our last session, and maybe some that you can remember from before that.”

“Uh, okay,” Mineta replied. “Well, I told Ashido that her top looked amazing. I said that Yaoyorozu had an attractive figure. Um, I don’t know her name but I told the new cashier at the convenience store near my place that she was prettier than the other girl. And I told my neighbor that her boyfriend was a lucky guy.”

“Did you complement any guys?”

“The neighbor’s boyfriend? He’s a guy.”

“Telling his girlfriend he’s lucky isn’t complementing him. So, your compliments are all looks-based and aimed at women. I want you to try complimenting other things. Nothing about appearance and try to compliment the males in your life. Okay?” Ryo suggested.

“Is it… bad that I tell girls when they look good?”

“You said it yourself in our last session: the girls get upset when you compliment them. If your intentions are good then it’s just a matter of altering your behavior to match them. We can start with an easy litmus test: If you can’t give the same compliment to a guy, then it’s likely inappropriate. You’re not trying to be inappropriate, Mineta-kun. You just need a little guidance. I think Wildfire will be a good mentor for you.”

“Really? I heard he has a bad reputation.”

Ryo nodded. “He does, but I know him well. He’s a good guy, and he can help you.”

“Okay. It’s not like I got any bids.”

Chapter 37: Internships Day One

Ryo sighed as he put his office phone back in its cradle. Manuel was more reasonable than the Iidas. He agreed to exercise the utmost caution in regard to Tenya Iida. The parents however sided with their son, perhaps this would help him make sense of this tragedy. It was a senseless act of violence perpetrated by a madman. It was stupid but he couldn’t change the internship now that they approved.

He texted Aizawa to let him know that everything was ready for the students’ departure in the morning. For now, he wondered how to spend the evening. Aizawa-kun was always good for platonic scritches. Kayama was his go-to for compassion and comfort. Hizashi was fun, but he wasn’t in the mood to expend that much energy. No, he wanted drinks and a light dinner. That trio was out; Kayama and Hizashi were lushes they didn’t stop once they got going, and Aizawa didn’t drink. Dokujima, Mitsuno, and Matsushita were all reasonable options for that; if he didn’t want it to go any further. Kurose, however…

His tail wagged as he sent an invitation to dinner.

 

“You’ve all got your costumes, right?” Aizawa checked again. His nineteen students were gathered in the train station.

Yamada still had custody of his four Gen Ed transfers; two heading to Aizawa and two potentially going to Kan, should any slots open up. They were between the two hero-course classes.

“Remember you don’t have permission to wear them out in public yet. And don’t lose them or anything.”

“Gotcha!” Mina shouted jubilantly, raising her case above her head.

“Speak properly. It’s ‘yes sir,’ Ashido.”

“Yes sir,” she replied in an exaggerated pout.

“Make sure you mind your manners with the other heroes during your internships. Now get to it,” he dismissed them.

“Yes, sir!” his students and future students said. Fukami and Asuka remained quiet.

Kan’s final lecture was just as short, “Remember that you’re representing Yuuei and Class 1-B. As difficult as it will be, you’re just observing. Understand?”

“Yes sir!”

“Good. Get going.”

When they broke up to catch their trains, Yamada added, “Make me proud, kiddos.”

“We will, Yamada-sensei,” Shinso replied while Izuku smirked and said, “Yes, sir.”

Asuka gave an aborted squawk, the long blue feathers of his wings rustling. “Er, of course, sensei.”

“I’m a little nervous,” Fukami admitted, her tentacles flexing as she tried to regulate them into their usual deep purple color. Nerves always made her camouflage instinct activate. “But we’ll do our best!”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. You four, and Miss Hatsume, really beat the odds, just passing the first round. It’s no secret that the Sports Festival is all about the hero course, but wow did you put on a show!”

“Thank you, Yamada-sensei,” she replied. The boys joined her in bowing to their teacher.

“Ah, hey, enough of that,” he said waving his hand in a shooing motion. “Don’t miss your trains, okay?”

“Yes sensei!” they called as they scurried off.

Izuku had a few hours to kill once he was on his train.

Love? he texted Kurogiri on his second cell phone.

I’m up. The response came quickly.

I miss you already. Izuku shifted in his seat until he could comfortably rest his head against the window.

Twelve more hours, he replied. Then, Oh, could be so much longer at your internship. Pity.

I’m nervous.

You’ll perform admirably. Are you concerned about how Nighteye will treat you?

A little. I mean I can handle just about anything he can throw at me. But I did find some emotional weaknesses thanks to Shinso.

Take a deep breath and remember that you have value.

You make me feel amazing about myself. How did I get so lucky?

You earned it.

I’m getting butterflies just thinking about seeing you later.

I’ll be sure to chase them away when you get here.

So… What are you wearing?

Grey slacks, matching vest, white button-up.

Yum. What else?

Brown dress shoes, navy and grey argyle socks, and a silk tie I want to use to blindfold you while we do some sensory play. Feathers, ice cubes and then the warming oil.

Sounds fun. We’d have to be careful of your tie, though.

I would ruin most of my ties for you. There was a brief pause before he added, The blue and yellow striped one was a gift from Tomura, and I’m irrationally attached to the grey and gold checked one, so those two are off-limits.

You always look so good in that one, Izuku replied.

Thank you, Love. Now, what about you?

Just my school uniform. Grey jacket, white button-up, blue slacks. Red tie, red shoes, white socks… with garters.

Oo, show me.

Izuku glanced around to make sure no one could see and everyone was settled before pulling up his pant legs and taking a picture. He checked to make sure it wasn’t blurry and then sent it. He eagerly awaited the return picture, which was surprisingly slow in coming.

Kurogiri’s argyle socks – grey, navy, and amethyst – were crossed at the ankle and bound together with a thin rose gold ribbon. Izuku had to stifle a squeal of delight at the sight of it.

I can’t wait to get home and unwrap that, he texted saucily.

A picture of a pair of black sleep pants folded neatly on their bed came next.

Get some sleep, you tempter. Sweet dreams.

They always are when they’re of you.

Izuku chuckled. I love you.

I love you too.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to sleep for most of his trip.

 

Minoru stared up at the hero he was interning with; Wildfire. He was a devilishly handsome man with sharp features a strong jaw, waist-length crimson hair, and narrow turquoise eyes that sparkled with mischief. He was moderately tall and slim but rather muscular and well-built. The casual street clothes he was wearing to pick Minoru up from the train station were fashionable but understated; black skinny jeans, a soft grey-brown tee, leather ankle boots, a trilby hat, and sunglasses.

“Hey, you Mineta?” he said in a casual tone.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” He turned and began walking away. “Follow.”

Minoru had to run to keep up with his long stride.

“So, I can’t be seen with a kid. It would be devastating to my rep.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I’m a playboy, a cad. If anyone knew I was responsible enough to take on an intern, from Yuuei no less, I’d be ruined.” He led Minoru through a parking structure to a white panel van with two aluminum ladders on the roof. He flung the back open and lifted Minoru inside. “Welcome to Wildfire HQ.”

Inside were four hot babes; two sets of twins. They all had at least C cups and butts to match. Two of them appeared to be in their late teens or very early twenties, with knee-length, bubble-gum blue hair that transitioned to cotton-candy pink (and vice versa) in two pigtails and bangs that framed their faces. Their eyes and cheeks were round and cute, while their lips were plump. The two in the front seat of the van were more mature looking; mid to late twenties. They had long, deep purple hair with red and pink highlights. One had it styled in ringlets, and the other in a mermaid braid. They had long curly lashes, slim faces, and long legs.

All four were wearing high-collared, skin-tight dark blue bodysuits with reinforced patches on the sides ending just above the knee, with gold belts, knee-high boots, and bracers. While the boots and bracers were all the same, the styles of the belts differed for each girl. One had a flowy sheer sash secured with a large brooch, another had a set of three crisscrossing belts, the third wore a thick belt with too many pouches, and the last had a layered chain belt.

“So many great boobies,” he muttered, drool pooling on his chin.

Wildfire crawled passed him and shut the doors. He began stripping as he made introductions, “These are my sidekicks: Razzle, Dazzle, Glitz, and Glam.”

“I thought you didn’t have any sidekicks.” He wiped a little drool off his chin and adverted his eyes from the half-naked man. Wildfire was wearing a cup and a padded underlayer that probably provided light armor and highlighted his abs, thighs, and butt.

The five heroes laughed as if at some shared joke.

“That’s the wonders of obfuscation and lying,” Glam said from the front seat. She leaned and twisted in a way that would have shown off her breasts but her costume was subtly molded to hold her in place.

“Any hero worth their salt is part of a team,” Glitz added, mirroring her sister’s pose.

Razzle grinned. “Intel is a vital part of any hero’s arsenal.”

Dazzle shared the sharp expression with her sister. “And yet so few invest in proper surveillance.”

The quintet tittered again and Wildfire emerged from his partial cover in a matching bodysuit but with crimson on the reinforced patches and gold piping on the seams.

“Okay, so for today you’ll be stuck in the van with the surveillance team. I’m going to be napping unless something comes up. Listen to Razz.” He moved to the back and pushed Minoru into the empty seat. Then he settled down on Minoru’s small suitcase in a way very reminiscent of Aizawa-sensei.

“So we’re plugged into the local traffic cams and a few CCTV systems. We’re looking for this gentleman.” She tapped an eight by ten glossy of a daytime TV star. “We’re keeping tabs on everyone he comes in contact with, and where he goes.”

“Why?”

“Four of his female costars have complained of blackouts or memory loss, headache, muscle pain, and/or light sensitivity. It’s a very specific set of set of symptoms. Any idea of what?”

“No.”

“Grab your phone and start looking it up.”

“You can’t just tell me?”

“The lesson will stick better if you do the leg work.”

 

“On a normal day, I’d just be waiting for client calls to come in. Not really exciting. But things have been fairly hectic here lately,” Manual explained as they started a patrol.

“So you’re using street patrols to suppress crime?” Iida asked his helmet giving his voice a modulated effect.

“Yeah, exactly.” He waved casually at two excited middle school boys across the street. “I’m sure you got offers from agencies much bigger than mine.”

“You came highly recommended, actually,” Iida told him. “Due to recent events, the staff at Yuuei vetted my choice of internships very closely. I was told you are a good man and an excellent hero. I look forward to learning everything I can from you.” He bowed formally.

“Hey, hey, no need for that! It’s my pleasure to teach you.”

 

Izuku was surprised to find that the whole building belonged to Sir Nighteye’s agency. A chipper young woman with blue skin and hair led him into a shared office on the third floor.

Nighteye was a tall, slender man with green hair and yellow eyes hidden behind his glasses. He looked every inch the serious, stoic businessman. He sat behind his desk and waited as Bubble Girl left.

“Do you know why I offered you this Internship?”

“Well, I had hoped it was because you saw my potential and wanted to help me grow as a hero, but your tone suggests otherwise.”

“All Might chose you as his successor.”

“Oh, so you want to help me master One for All?” Izuku asked, his voice laced with false hope.

“He chose wrong.”

Izuku deflated. “Not my problem.”

“I inte- what?” 

“It’s his choice, plain and simple. If you’ve got a problem with it talk to him.” Izuku sighed. He threw his arms up dramatically and started pacing. “I know I’m not worthy. I can’t hold a candle to him. I’m useless, worthless, pathetic. Weak. I’ve heard that shit for ten years, I don’t need a refresher. You think I’m the wrong man for the job?” Izuku whirled on him. Everything Shinso had said during their match raced through his head. “Buddy, you’re preaching to the choir. Fuck having a good quirk to build off, I’m lucky to have a quirk at all. And I have no idea how in the hell I got on the shortlist. With Togata-sempai! He’s perfect. Strong, brave, charismatic, honest, straightforward, kind, caring. Everything a hero should be. Everything I’m not.” Tears rolled down Izuku’s cheeks. “I know he’ll figure it out. He’ll take it back, choose better. Choose Togata. That’s why I came here. Because you can teach me to fight without it.” He scrubbed his face with his sleeve. “But until he does, it’s not up for discussion. At least not with me. All Might made his choice. He-he can change his mind. It’s his quirk.”

Nighteye sat silently behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of his face, through the whole tirade. “I see.”

“Do you?” Izuku asked, sharply. “Because this bit is crucial: I will not discuss his decisions with you.”

“Do you really feel worthless?”

“You do not have enough friendship points to unlock my tragic backstory.”

“I’m sor–”

“Don’t,” Izuku cut him off. “Empty platitudes are going to fall on deaf ears. You want me to think this was us getting off on the wrong foot or you having a bad day? Then do better going forward. I’ve heard far too many apologies fuelled by societal norms rather than genuine regret. It’s a waste of your time and mine.”

“I… see,” Nighteye responded. “Very well. I’ll show you where you will be sleeping and you can shadow Centipeder for the remainder of the day.”

Izuku followed him upstairs and to a hall with two apartments on one side and a very nice gym on the other.

“You will be sleeping in here.” He opened one of the doors. “Do try to be respectful of the space, Mirio Togata also uses it. Bubble Girl has the one next door, though she rarely uses it. Centipeder and I are on the next floor if you need anything during the night.”

“Cool,” Izuku replied as he dropped his bag near the door. He glanced around the spacious, open-concept room. “Would it bother anyone if I used the gym at night? I don’t sleep now that my quirk has kicked on.”

“No, the sound doesn’t carry much.”

“Excellent. Is the neighborhood safe for late night or early morning jogging?”

“After you’ve been shown around I don’t see why not,” Nighteye agreed. He eyed the boy for a moment. Finally, he said, “You’ve had to adapt to a lot of changes recently.”

“My quirk was a surprise, but I’m getting used to it,” Izuku replied.

“How is your training with One for All going?”

“So-so. I figured out that I get better results from it if I get my healing to activate first, but that won’t kick on if I’ve still got an adrenaline rush going. So there’s a ton of stuff I’d still like to try that I can’t, yet.”

“For today we’ll focus on the basics.”

 

Bakugo stood before Gang Orca’s massive desk. He had to admit, at least to himself, that the man was a little intimidating. The dim blue glow of the salt-water fish tank behind him backlit the pro hero ominously. Bakugo bowed respectfully.

Deku had been right about cutting the list down to the names he recognized before even bothering to read up on them. He had further cut the list by dismissing anyone he thought would pawn him off on a sidekick. And again by eliminating options that had clean-cut, or nice hero personas.

As a five-foot-long blacktip shark with a prosthetic dorsal fin swam lazily around the twenty-four-foot tank, he let a cocky smirk settle on his face. He had definitely made the right choice. Gang Orca was the second-highest-ranking hero to make a bid for him, but the other option clashed with his personality. Gang Orca was loud and abrasive but ranked tenth on the charts. He made his intimidating appearance work for him rather than trying to cover it up.

“Let’s get started,” the six-and-a-half-foot tall monster said instead of a greeting.

“Yes sir,” Bakugo replied. He was eager to learn from a hero as impressive as this.

 “We receive wages from the government and are therefore civil servants,” he explained as he led Bakugo past the tank and into his sidekicks’ bullpen. Each sidekick wore an outwardly identical costume. A seemingly skin-tight black bodysuit that covered them head to toe. It was decorated with thin white lines on the torso and tan armor on their shoulders, sides, and knees. The masks, a black metal plate, had six tapering diamond-shaped lenses for eyes and no other features. “However, there’s more to it than that. Our responsibilities are different from even those of the police. As for our actual duties…”

 

“So, you’re Frostburn, huh?” the tall, blue-haired woman greeted him with a wave. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, revealing her long pointed ears.

Her partner, an older petite blond, had picked him up from the train station. Both of them, and their young sidekick, wore a black bodysuit with a halter style neckline, a half jacket, and boots with a thick sole and little or no heel.  Colored lines decorated the torso and legs matching the color of their jacket, boots, and gloves.

Shoto nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Call me Solstice,” she told him. She smiled and gave a little chuckle, the afternoon sun making her amber eyes sparkle. “And this is my little sister, Yeti.”

“It’s Snowfall!” the shorter, horned girl snapped.

A thick blanket of snow manifested above Solstice and landed on her. She threw her head back and laughed.

“You two stop that at once,” Bonfire ordered. “You’re making us look bad in front of the intern!”

“Ah, Bon-bon, calm down, it’s all good fun,” Solstice said, wiping snow out of her hair and onto Bonfire.

The snow sizzled and evaporated and she shivered, wiping the spot where it had been. “Sol, you’re impossible,” she muttered with a smile. “Anyway, why don’t you get changed and we can do a quick patrol.”

 

Siren looked nothing like Shinso had imagined. He had pictured a highly feminine, maybe statuesque, woman with nice curves and a pretty face wearing either something light feathery and Greek-inspired or sultry and titillating.

“You look amazing.”

“Thanks, you should hear me sing.” She winked at him. Her eyes were a startling shade of pink, and her eyeliner was sharp enough to cut steel. She was fairly androgynous, attractive in both a pretty and handsome way, with short shaggy hair, undercut on one side. “But first, let me hear you sing something. Anything you like.”

“Seriously?”

“Mmhm. It’s part of my quirk. Go on.” She tucked the hair behind her fin-like ears; like the scales on her back and shoulders, they were iridescent.

“Um…” Shinso started to hum self-consciously. Slowly he began to sing the words aloud. When he got to the chorus, he was singing properly. “Hehe. I know it’s stupid.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down slightly.

“Nah, it’s a good tune. Don’t be ashamed to like what you like. The first rule of cool is: only you are cool. Not bands, songs, movies, genres. Just you. You make things cool by liking them.” Siren rummaged through the pockets of her grey cargo pants for a moment and pulled out a tissue packet with her logo on it. Under that were words Shinso would come to know well over the next seven days: The Secret to Being Cool is Not Caring What Anyone Else Thinks. Once You Master That, Everything You Do is Cool.

“Anyway. I won’t say you’re too young to know what you want, but you don’t know what you want yet. The most solid desire you have is to be a hero, but even there your resolve waivers. Read that. Now replace ‘Cool’ with ‘a Great Hero’ and ‘Not Caring’ with ‘protecting people.’ Got it?”

When Shinso shook his head, she sighed and said, “I’m going to use the other part of my quirk now. Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage.” Siren took a deep breath and began singing.

Even though he had heard the song a thousand times before, it was the most beautiful thing in the world to hear her sing it. Shinso would do anything to repay her for sharing this beauty with him. She could have anything she desired; after all, she had fulfilled his deepest desire by sharing this music with him.

Suddenly the euphoria cut out. Shinso felt a chill and vividly recalled the look of anguish on Izuku’s face during their fight at the sports festival. He opened his mouth to ask her to sing again when two things hit him like a bucket of ice water. The first was the memory of his uncle crying and begging for a fix, for just two thousand yen to make it stop. The second was the song.

“…X, Y, and Z.” Siren scuffed her combat boot against the concrete floor. “It’s okay to hate me, I’m used to being the bad guy.”

 

“A hero’s primary duty is to control crime,” Hawks explained. His feathers darted here and there solving every little problem on the street as they walked. A little old lady was floated over traffic with her shopping bags. A lost wallet was sent their way by two kids in the park. After a quick look at the ID, it was whisked off to a man franticly patting himself down at a coffee stand. A child’s balloon was captured and returned. “Whether the police contact us or we spot it on patrol, we handle it; assisting with arrests, rescuing people, whatever. Then, the boring part: we file reports. It’s best to get into the double digits so you don’t have to report every little thing you do just to make rent. Believe me.”

Dark Shadow stopped a kid at a crosswalk from running out in front of a truck that ran a light.

“Good catch!” Hawks’ feathers zipped under the truck and lifted it off the road. “Then the Hero Commission checks everything over and decides how much we should be paid. It’s a drag, but it’s more reliable than merchandising and appearance fees if you haven’t climbed the ranks.”

Fumikage patted Dark Shadow’s beak.

 

“Heroes are allowed to have side jobs,” Uwabami explained to Yaoyorozu and Kendo as she did her hair. “There were a lot of arguments about this when the role of pros was first being established, but heroes ended up being so popular that the public demanded it. For example, I’m about to film a commercial. Stick around okay?”

“I was kinda hoping to see something a little more action-y,” Kendo complained.

“This sort of attention is something you can’t avoid if you’re a pro. As female heroes, we must be very conscious of our image and the message we are sending,” Yaoyorozu stated. “I, for one, will take every lesson she has to give.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Uwabami turned to face them.

“But isn’t there anything else we could do while you film this commercial, or whatever?” Kendo asked.

“Do you know why I chose to recruit you two? Any thoughts?”

“Well, I guess…” Kendo started meekly.

“It must be because you saw such heroic potential in us!” Yaoyorozu jumped in hopefully.

“Of course I did. But there’s another reason,” she admitted. “You’re both very cute young ladies.”

“Huh?” Kendo stared.

Yaoyorozu frowned. Then she squared her shoulders. “A hero is a hero,” she told herself. “What do you want us to do?” she asked aloud.

“Well, we’ll get you two into hair and makeup. Highlight your cheekbones,” she said to Kendo, “curl your hair,” to both of them, “cover your scars, of course,” she said to Yaoyorozu, “and, naturally, you can wear your hero costumes.”

“No,” Yaoyorozu said firmly. This was the hill she would die on.

“It’s fine. It’s a hair spray ad, and your costume is really cute, you should be proud of it.”

 Yaoyorozu didn’t dignify the response with as much as a raise of her perfect eyebrows.

Kendo fidgeted nervously next to her. “I, um. I’m with Yaoyorozu.” She stood tall mirroring her posture.

“Fine, fine. It’s no skin off my teeth. I’ll just tell the director he knew what you looked like when he said you girls could be in the commercial. It won’t be a problem.”

 

“Heroes gotta stay in shape, keep our skills sharp, and train constantly,” Glidar said as she and Asuka landed on the ledge of a building, “but you have to make time for yourself even when you’re on patrol. Enjoy the view, the sunset, the freedom of flight, just breathe for a minute. If you don’t this job will swallow you whole and regurgitate your bones.”

Her mechanical wings folded up neatly into a large backpack, letting him get a good look at her for the first time in hours. She wore an old-fashioned flight suit with an aviator’s jacket, a pair of matte-finish metal boots that had articulated talons for carrying people, and a modern helmet with a rebreather in it.

“It is a glorious view,” Asuka replied, rubbing one of his shoulders.

 

“Knowing how to pass the time while waiting to be called out to rescue someone is a useful skill,” Croc said as he sunned himself. His thick, muscular tail swished back and forth across the deck. “Don’t tire yourself out too much.”

Currently, he was wearing only a skintight pair of black trunks. And Fukami was ignoring him in favor of scrubbing his decommissioned Coast Guard patrol boat. At least she had an internship.

Notes:

Bio Cards:
Name: Ushio Fukami
Kanji: 潮 深海
潮 Tide
深 Deep/Heighten/ Intensify/Strengthen, 海 Sea/Ocean
Quirk: Octopus – has a cephalopod-like lower body, she can change color both as camouflage & to express emotions, her ring-shaped blue bioluminescent pattern can produce a powerful toxin
Description: An octopus mermaid girl with an unblinking gaze that will drill into the depth of your soul.
Affiliation: Yuuei, Class 1-C
Birthday: November 21
Height: 6’2”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Musicals, Swimming, Unnerving People.

Name: Kouha Asuka
Kanji: 煌羽 飛鳥
煌 Shine, 羽 Wing
飛 To fly, 鳥 Bird
Quirk: Macaw – has a feathered bird-like body, beak, wings instead of arms, clawed feet, and tail feathers
Description: A friendly, highly social boy with the coloration of a Great Green Macaw
Affiliation: Yuuei
Birthday: June 12
Height: 5’2”
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Nuts, Networking, Flying.

Chapter 38: Who's Worthy

Izuku adjusted his half mask as he listened intently to Centipeder’s lecture. They were patrolling the twenty-block radius around the agency. It wasn’t the full extent of the area Nighteye’s people usually covered but it was enough for a fifteen-year-old intern to go on an unsupervised jog in the middle of the night.

“Being a hero is mostly about patrols, paperwork, and patience. Resolving incidents quickly and de-escalating violence are our top priorities,” he said, his voice high and squeaky. “The better we are at our job the fewer altercations we will get into. At a certain level, reputation alone is enough to detour most villains. Those that are not are highly unpredictable; therefore preparedness is key.”

The combination of Centipeder’s stern expression and high-pitched voice made it hard for Izuku to keep a straight face. He stayed silent, both because he didn’t want to risk offending the serious hero and because he didn’t have anything useful to add.

When they returned to the agency, Nighteye met them at the door. “Get changed and I’ll take you shopping with me.”

“There’s a convenience store on the next block, and I have some cash. I wouldn’t mind eating with you if you wanted, but I can pay for myself,” he replied as he shrugged his hoodie off.

“A food budget was factored in when I decided to take on an intern for the week,” Nighteye said simply.

Izuku bit his lip. He was hesitant to rely on Nighteye, but the man was – theoretically – making an effort. “My quirk uses a lot of calories, so we can split food costs. I’ll buy snacks and stuff for breakfast, you can do diners, and we’ll play lunches by ear. How does that sound?”

“An acceptable compromise.” Nighteye nodded.

Izuku sprinted up the stairs, as it was faster for him than the elevator. He did a quick inventory of the kitchen before changing into jeans, his red sneakers, and an All Might t-shirt that listed all of his official Smashes.

Nighteye arched an eyebrow at him when he returned downstairs but said nothing. He led Izuku to a grocery store rather than the closer convenience store.

The staff clearly knew him. Nighteye was offered a few coupons, told about a special, and an All Might phone charm he could get if he spent a certain amount.

After thanking them, Nighteye grabbed a pair of baskets. Following his mentor as he navigated through the store, Izuku was able to grab all of the fresh ingredients he was after. Shelf-stable ingredients were mostly accounted for at the agency. Eventually, Nighteye asked, “Do you have everything you need?”

“Mostly, I just want to get a few things from the frozen section.”

“Very well,” Nighteye replied. His tone and arched eyebrow contradicted his words. Izuku tried telling himself that the man was making an effort, but a little voice echoed that that was the problem. Nighteye didn’t like him because he wasn’t Mirio.

“You don’t approve,” Izuku said as he led the way.

“You have plenty of time to prepare proper meals.”

“And very limited cooking ability.”

“I see.”

Izuku couldn’t help but giggle. “Sorry,” he said at the raised eyebrow. “Your quirk is sight-based, right? You say that a lot.”

Nighteye smiled. “Good to know you have a sense of humor.”

Maybe they both needed to make an effort. Nighteye wasn’t Kacchan, the kids from his old school, or his former teachers. Izuku decided to give him a real chance.

              

Dinner with Nighteye was a simple ramen. Izuku found the quiet to be more enjoyable than the stilted conversations they had had previously. It wasn’t earning Nighteye any friendship points, but he wasn’t digging himself any deeper either.

After that, he hit the gym until Nighteye poked his head in and let him know that he and Centipeder were headed to bed.

“Cool. I’m going to head out for a run. I should be back by five, six at the latest.”

“You’re planning to stay out all night?”

“Yeah. I slept on the way here and it takes a lot to tire me out. If it bothers you, I can come back sooner.”

“I am responsible for your safety.”

“That’s why I asked in the first place, and why I’m letting you know my plans now. If it bothers you, I can just use the gym.”

Nighteye looked him up and down. “You’re not going to tell me you have One for All, you’ll be fine?”

“The idea is to not get into a position to need to use it. But yeah, I could use it to run. I’m good at that. I kick up almost no sand at the beach.”

“You wouldn’t use it to fight?”

He feigned affront, “That would be illegal. I won’t even get my provisional license until next year.”

“Very well, if you feel comfortable,” Nighteye said, sounding genuinely satisfied with the answer.

Izuku mentally awarded him five friendship points. Aloud, he just said, “Thanks. I’ll make an effort to be back by five, in case you want to get an early start.”

 

It was unusual for Kurogiri to warp him into their bedroom. It was more unusual for him not to be in it when he did. The navy comforter they had ordered online had shown up, but it wasn’t on the bed yet. It looked as though Kurogiri had been called away halfway through changing the sheets.

Toga was lounging on the bed. “Finally! Hurry up and get changed! I wanna see Stainy before Tomura-kun scares him off!” She bounced up and started stripping Izuku.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “don’t I even get a hello?”

“Hello, cutie,” Toga replied. She pulled his shirt off and tossed it across the room. “Now get moving! You have to meet Stainy! He’s so cool!”

“Alright, alright. Calm down.”

Toga undid his belt with practiced ease and shoved his pants off his hips.

“I said calm down, Himiko.” Izuku grabbed her hands. “I’m not in the best mood, and I don’t want to be rude to our guest. Especially since you seem so keen on him.”

“What can I do to make you feel better?” she asked seductively.

Izuku pulled her arms around him. “Finish making the bed while I get dressed. It doesn’t need to be perfect, just serviceable.”

“Ooh, is somebody finally gonna get ‘serviced’?”

Izuku laughed. “We’ll see. If you make the bed.” He wiggled the rest of the way out of his pants and found his costume on the dresser. He pulled on the leather pants and made a mental note to upgrade the leather to a more durable poly-cotton blend with a Teflon finish.  The divots, pockmarks, and scraps from one fight – albeit against All Might – were painfully visible, even after Kurogiri had cleaned them. Mei was infatuated with a new ripstop weave, and honestly, the tactical canvas-like fabric would look much less ostentatious.

He was buckling the straps on his vest as Toga finished the bed. “Happy?”

He kissed her cheek. “I do feel better, thank you.” Izuku put his mask on and the pair headed upstairs.

As they reached the bar, they heard a loud thud and Tomura swearing. Toga made a pouty face at Izuku. He grinned sheepishly back. Izuku stepped out of the stairwell.

A man he assumed to be Stain was crouched over Tomura. Izuku’s shadow wrapped tightly around the man as he noticed the knife buried to the bone in Tomura’s shoulder. Before the Hero Killer could turn his attention to Kurogiri, he was slammed against the wall.

“Now, now, Stray-kun, this is Tomura’s fight,” Sensei’s silky voice came from the tinny speaker in the karaoke machine. His voice was cold and his tone like steel. It lacked a threatening edge. There was no need, Sensei knew his orders would be followed. “Release our guest.”

“Tomura? You okay?” Izuku asked instead. He positioned himself between Tomura and Stain.

“I can’t move. He licked the wound when you grabbed him. It must be his quirk,” he replied. His voice was strained as if he were struggling.

“As fascinating as that is –” Izuku began, giving Stain a sharp squeeze.

“I said release him,” Sensei snapped. The anger in his voice made both Izuku and Kurogiri flinch. It was like being set on fire and plunged into an icy river at the same time.

“Tomura?” he asked again. He felt like he was drowning. Izuku eased into a defensive stance, sweeping one foot back until it bumped into Tomura’s leg. A rock to cling to against the frigid current.

“Yeah, do what Sensei says.”

Izuku released his grip but did not retract his shadow. “I know Tomura can be abrasive, but what specifically did he do to set you off, friend?”

“You’re no friend of mine, and neither is he. He’s the type of person I hate most in this world. His goals are those of a child. Killing has no meaning if you don’t have real convictions.” He grabbed the hilts of two oversized combat knives. His stance was a crouch that should have been awkward but felt like a spring wound tight. Or a snake about to strike.

“And what are your convictions?” Izuku focused on the fight before him and not the hell he would pay for disregarding Sensei.

“Those who become heroes for fame or money are unworthy of the name, and should be culled.”

“Then we do have similar goals,” he said spreading his hands in a welcoming gesture. It left him open to an attack, but the slash was more warning than assault.

“He wishes to kill All Might, a worthy hero.”

Izuku turned his head slightly to glance at the Tomura. “To us he is a representation of the corrupt system. He overburdens himself and gives others false hope. He’s held in such high regard that lesser heroes stop trying because they can’t hope to hold a candle to him.”

Stain sheathed his knives, his head cocked in interest.

“Every greedy, violent, glory hound traces back to one source. There is so much pressure on pros to perform that they forget what real heroism is. The public sees them as little more than entertainers; crime and disaster happen to other people. It’s rotting our society.”

“You, you’re a much worthier leader.”

“That’s why we reached out to you,” Izuku took a half step forward, “to show him a better path. With your conviction to inspire him, Tomura can grow and go after the real threat to society.”

“And what’s that?” Stain matched his incursion. He was within Stain’s range now, but the Hero Killer looked uncomfortable with the proximity; not frightened, but assessing and on guard. Izuku could feel his muscles, taunt and shifting, ready to strike.

“The hero commission,” Tomura said. He managed to reach up and wrench the knife from his shoulder, disintegrating it. “They make the rules heroes live by. They decide the ranking. They factor in popularity and merchandising. Everyone is so distracted by the flashy displays of power that they don’t see how it’s rotting our whole society,” Tomura explained as he got to his feet.

Stain nodded. It was less agreement and more an acknowledgment that the point was worth considering. He stood up straight. “I see now that this wasn’t in vain. We agree that we need to destroy the present.  I was testing your motives. People always show their true colors when they’re on the verge of death. It’s abnormal, but there is desire, the warped sprout of conviction inside of you.” He spread his arms out in a slowly rising gesture. “How will it bloom in the end I wonder. Maybe I’ll let you grow. If you don’t turn out well I’ll take care of you later.”

“You think you –”

Izuku cut Tomura off, “Lovely. Turnabout is fair play, though. We do not doubt your ideals, but you’re ability to see them through … well, Ingenium is the only hero of note you’ve taken on and as you know we tend to set our sights a bit higher.”

“I’m no idiot. I –”

“If you can’t back up your convictions then we’re done here. Kurogiri,” Izuku cut him off, “kindly return our guest to Hosu.”

“What, or rather, who did you have in mind?” Stain asked.

“While ideally, I’d like to see Endeavor taken down, he doesn’t make for a good test. You are no idiot,” Izuku replied. He began muttering, “But teamwork will be the key to taking out bigger fish, so the real test would be methodology, anyway.” Aloud he asked, “How do you choose your targets? What proof do you have that, say, your next target is unworthy?”

“I’m not going to –”

“Last target, then. Why was Ingenium unworthy?” Tomura asked, blood dripping off of his fingers.

“He profits off of the work of others, he willingly works with scum and criminals, and he is dishonest about his … family.”

“Oo, a scandal,” Toga cooed, bringing herself to everyone’s attention for the first time.

“Out with it,” Tomura growled. “I don’t have any more patience for you.”

“His younger brother is the result of an affair with one of his father’s former sidekicks.”

“So?” Toga asked. “That makes Daddy Iida a bad boy, not Ingenium.”

“It does if the affair was between Ingenium and the sidekick,” Izuku concluded. “He would have been maybe fifteen.”

“He benefits from lies and secrets. He is a false hero.”

“If any of that is true, yeah. But you still need proof,” Izuku pressed.

“I can bring it to you tomorrow.”

“We’ll see you then,” Tomura said dismissively. He waved him off with his bad arm, flinging drops of blood in Stain’s direction.

“Where do you wish to be deposited?” Kurogiri asked.

“Hosu. I still have unfinished business there.” He stepped through the warp gate without hesitation.

“Are we really going to work with that guy?” Tomura asked as Kurogiri began patching his wound.

“That’s entirely up to you,” Izuku replied. He was still facing the spot where Stain had disappeared.

“Stray,” Sensei called to him.

Izuku’s shoulders tensed. He regulated his breathing for a moment before answering. “Yes, Sensei?”

“Why did you not listen to me?”

“I –,” he started.

“He was doing his job,” Tomura cut in. “Stray answers to me.”

Izuku turned to him silently, biting his lip beneath his mask.

“So, I should take his disobedience up with you?”

“Yeah, if he were to be disobedient,” he confirmed.

“You don’t think he was disobedient?”

“He did what I told him when I told him,” Tomura said with a shrug. He winced and Kurogiri grabbed his shoulder to keep him from moving too much.

“Careful, Tomura,” he said softly.

“Yes, do be careful, Tomura,” Sensei said silkily. 

“Gah, I haven’t even started to heal from being shot!” he complained. “I know you want me to learn something from that deranged, babbling, All Might sycophant!” He paused, took a deep breath, and patted Kurogiri’s hand gently. The firm grip on his shoulder loosened. “But I don’t think he’s the one to teach me. You want me to have convictions? Fine. The hero commission has to be destroyed. Everything else is a symptom of that rot.”

“And All Might?”

“He’s already done. Let him watch helplessly as we tear apart the system that held him up as a god,” Tomura chuckled. “We got everything out of him worth a damn, unless you want revenge. We could swing by and maim him if you want.”

“You make it sound so petty,” Sensei replied.

“Sorry, that’s just my personality.”

Izuku couldn’t help it, he laughed. It started as a muffled giggle, but it quickly erupted into a half-hysterical cackling.

“That amuses you?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he gasped out between bursts of laughter. “I can’t help but picture us sneaking up to his door at night and, like, egging or TPing it. Or just, like ding-dong ditch at three a.m.”

“I feel like we just took a step backward,” Tomura said, an amused tone in his voice.

“Oh my god,” Izuku gasped, still laughing. “You’re considering it!”

“Not for real,” Tomura said, defensively.

“Stray-kun would know his address,” Toga piped up.

“Okay this is rapidly moving from Stray’s panic-induced delusion to ‘I will need the following list of supplies,’ and it needs to stop,” Tomura rasped. He was beginning to chuckle as well.

“Why not?” Sensei spoke over them. “If this is how you choose to conduct yourself, so be it.”

Izuku’s laughter was tapering off into short bursts, and Tomura narrowed his eyes at the karaoke machine. “If you don’t approve just say so.”

“I think it’s a waste of time.”

“Think of it as a way for us to blow off steam,” Izuku suggested. “Petty annoyances can add up and cause a lot of stress, but that would be a bonus.”

“Stray, would you like to run the League of Villains?”

Izuku gave another burst of hysterical laughter. He shook his head but said, “God yes, can I? Really? Hours of training, quirk analysis, and absolutely no crime. Hey, you wouldn’t need to pay me at all, seeing as Tomura wouldn’t be in any danger.” He laughed again. “If you think Tomura lacks the drive to lead a criminal organization, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Stray,” Tomura said firmly, “I want to destroy hero society. What would your next move be?”

Izuku collected himself. “I don’t know actually. Keep chipping away at Yuuei’s reputation. Hit another top school. Take down Endeavor. Oh, we should work on Hawks too, since he’s next in line. See if we can dig up any dirt on the hero commission; failing that make dirt. There’s just so much…” he began muttering.

Tomura scratched his neck lightly. “See, Sensei? Stray-kun is an excellent resource, but he lacks focus. I can focus him, just as he can focus me.”

“Do not rely so heavily on one person, Tomura,” Sensei said. His voice was warm again and the four people in the bar relaxed.

Izuku’s hysterical laughter died completely.

“I’ll take your advice,” Tomura acquiesced. “We’ll work with Stain. Far be it for us to throw away a perfectly good resource.” He paused and then offered one more olive branch just to be sure, “Sensei, would we be spreading ourselves too thin if we attacked Endeavor? I think, I think we could do some real damage, maybe even kill him. But would that really serve our purpose?”

“Wait until you are ready, Tomura,” Sensei replied. After a moment he added, “Stray-kun, you will follow Tomura?”

Izuku blinked a couple of times. He smiled softly beneath his mask. “I didn’t think it was a question. When examined closely our end goals are the same. I may question his methods sometimes, sure, but I will stand between him and any enemy.”

“Very well,” Sensei said at length. “Try not to get caught doing something stupid.” The TV powered off abruptly.

“So…” Izuku started, “How pissed is he?”

Tomura made a so-so gesture. “Next time just do what he says. It’ll be easier.”

“What is your plan, Tomura Shigaraki?” Kurogiri asked.

“Depends, how useful do we think Stain will be?”

Izuku mimicked the so-so gesture. “In combat, he’s good against one or two well-trained opponents, but he’s never taken on a powerhouse like Endeavor. If his intel pans out though, that would be his real contribution.”

“So we plan like he’s not involved until we see that.” Tomura gave a nod. “Should we hit Yuuei again or move to Shiketsu?”

“I’m split on that. I’d like to keep my various friends safe, but we have next to no info on Shiketsu.”

“They are a more traditional school,” Kurogiri stated. “The only heroes on staff are the hero course teachers. Maybe eight of them.”

“Hey, look! A shortlist for Stainy!” Toga piped up.

“You can’t possibly still like that guy,” Tomura grumbled.

“I get why you don’t, but there’s something about him. He’s just sooo passionate~! Even when he’s spouting obvious bullshit.”

Izuku’s head whipped up.

“What is it Stray?”

The manic grin on his face was hidden. “Stain’s manifesto.”

“Is trash. What about it?”

“Stain idolizes All Might. That’ll help tarnish the pillar, especially as a call to action. For low-level villains and even law-abiding citizens to purge the unworthy. In his name.” Izuku knew there was anguish in his eyes as he met Tomura’s. He felt for his hero.

And Tomura knew from that pain that this was a genuine plan. “We can have a camera set up next time that idiot comes over. Tell him I want to study it. We’ll workshop it from there. Make sure it’s perfect before we release it to the public.”

“Sounds like a plan, Boss,” Izuku said. “Now, we need some cling film, duct tape, and a spy cam.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, we should start small.”

“Let’s ding-dong ditch him first, then it will really confuse him!” Toga suggested.

“Your call Tomura.”

“You got the address?”

“Of course.”

“Let’s do it.”

 

The four of them had set the camera up first. Yagi’s apartment was on the second floor of a cookie-cutter cracker-box complex with thin walls in the good part of a poor neighborhood. The doors were floor-to-ceiling to accommodate taller mutation quirks. The initial ding-dong ditch was a good test, as one of the neighbors was faster coming out than Yagi.

Izuku had grabbed Tomura the instant he felt Kurogiri’s warp gate forming under his feet. They dropped into the living room with a light thud.

“That was close,” Toga said.

Kurogiri flicked on the spy cam. “At least this works,” he said as the signal was picked up on the TV.

The red-faced man was clearly inebriated, but Yagi apologized profusely for the noise and offered him a beer. He politely declined saying, “I’ve had too many tonight, anyway. I’m’a go ta bed.”

“Maybe some other time then,” Yagi said with a wave. Both men stepped back inside. After twenty minutes or so, the lights went out as well.

They waited another twenty before popping back to tape the cling film over the inside door frame. They couldn’t stop giggling when they were done. Toga lounged across Izuku and Kurogiri’s laps as Tomura settled on the floor to play the latest installment of Lunar Gaia.

 

Minoru was exhausted by the time Wildfire came back from ‘patrol’, tipsy, at two in the morning. His back and eyes were sore from staring at monitors all day; traffic cams, security cameras, and even spy cams. Minoru had been amazed when either Razzle or Dazzle – he could swear they changed their hair or told him the wrong name to confuse him – had pointed out their target taking a starlet back to his dressing room for a quickie.  

Glam helped Wildfire buckle his seat belt. “Where to, sir?” she purred.

“Home, darling,” he replied.

“Alright!” Glitz said with a grin. “The kid’ll love this.” She drove them to the Imperial Hotel. “We’re booked in the penthouse.”

“Wow.” The room was huge. There was a sitting area with a giant TV, a gleaming kitchen/dining area, and a hot tub on the balcony. There were three bedrooms off of the main area.

“You’ll be bunking with me,” Wildfire said with a sloppy grin. “Stay out of the girls’ rooms.” He led Minoru into the master bedroom. There was a huge round bed with a mirror over it, a luxurious bathroom, and a walk-in closet. “You’re in there. Hotel staff should have it set up for you already.”

Minoru collapsed, gratefully, onto the rollaway bed in the closet.

 

Shinso ate the convince store bento he was offered. The can of cold brew coffee was much more welcome. “Gah, what time is it?”

“Just after four.”

“In the morning?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I have a lot to do.”

“Weren’t you up ‘til like midnight?”

“Yeah,” she said with a yawn. She pulled a pot off the stove.

Shinso was confused but peeled and mashed the mountain of boiled eggs Siren gave him. Next, they stirred in mayo and a bit of salt and pepper. The egg salad was slathered on bread with halved soft-boiled eggs. They moved on to crispy chicken with tomato and lettuce, spam onigirazu, and rice balls. Finally, all the sandwiches were cut into triangles and wrapped in saran wrap.

“Okay, this one is for Star-chan, she doesn’t like tomato, and this one is for Aoi-kun, he hates getting two of the same thing. Genki-san likes one sandwich and one rice ball,” Siren was sorting the food into brown paper bags with a snack and a drink before stacking them in one of three coolers. “Soy jerky for Hideko. Dried fish flakes for Kawa-san and Katsumi-chan. Milk, water, and peach jelly for Masashi-san. Fifty thousand yen to help with Yubi-chan’s rent. And Zinan-kun gets an extra bag of chips for being good.”

“Do you do this every day?”

Siren nodded. “Some days it’s the only food these kids get. Come on, we can get another hour of sleep in before we start. This went a lot faster thanks to you.”

Chapter 39: Internships Day Two

Yagi looked blurrily at the digital clock beside his futon. Last night had been weird. Someone had rung his doorbell at nearly midnight. When he’d staggered to the door the only person out on the walkway was his neighbor Kimura. Now the loss of sleep and the late nights training young Midoriya were catching up to him. He didn’t want to get up, but if he left the newspaper on the stoop too long, it would grow legs.

Yagi heaved his seven-foot-two-inch frame up off the floor, lamented the lack of a Western-style bed, and opened his door. As he leaned down to grab the paper, he felt a thin plastic-like membrane touch his face. Yagi jumped back with a yelp. He stumbled back and tripped over his shoes. Yagi landed on his tailbone with a thud.

The downstairs neighbor shouted up at him.

“Sorry,” Yagi muttered. He looked at the shreds of cling film hanging from the thin strips of duct tape on his doorframe. “Huh?”

How did that get there? he wondered as he blinked owlishly at the tattered plastic. Yagi crawled to the door and scooped up his newspaper. He reached his long spindly arm out and shut the door. Sitting up on his knees, he examined the lock. Finding it intact, he dumped the paper on his coffee table and returned to bed.

“Not today,” he groaned as he snuggled into the futon’s warm embrace.

 

Izuku jogged into the lobby of Nighteye’s agency at five a.m. on the dot. “I’m impressed by your punctuality.”

“Well, at least I can do something to impress you,” Izuku replied with a wry smile.

Nighteye stood even straighter. “I will be a truly vicious taskmaster. You may come to hate me by week’s end, but I will show you the path to your true potential.”

“Is that a dojo thing? Do all combat instructors say that?” Izuku wondered aloud. He grinned, “So far All Might’s the only one that didn’t start with that. Should I recommend he do that in the future? Is that part of the starter pack? Like gi pants, no shirt, vicious taskmaster, and hate me. If you have black gi pants I’m gonna lose it.”

Nighteye narrowed his eyes at him.

“Anyway, I’m warmed up if you wanna spar, or whatever.”

“Very well.”

Once in the gym, it was clear that Nighteye hadn’t expected Izuku to be as well trained as he was. Nighteye took full advantage of his superior reach, but Izuku grabbed a staff from the wall. He held it behind his waist, at times resting in the crooks of his elbows.

He ducked under a forceful kick and danced back avoiding a torrent of strikes. When Nighteye grabbed his hoodie, Izuku leaned into it and rolled behind him, breaking his loose grip. With the follow-through, he smacked Nighteye on the rump with the staff.

 Nighteye responded with a reverse spin kick. Izuku was already ducked down as it sailed harmlessly over his head. He came back up swinging the staff at Nighteye’s shoulder. The pro blocked it effortlessly.

“Is this a joke to you?”

Even without activating One for All, Izuku’s speed increased dramatically. Nighteye’s flurry of attacks was countered with an array of swipes and jabs with the staff. Izuku spun the staff in a dazzling display to create distance between them.

Nighteye closed the gap, coming in hard. Izuku calmly gave ground and dodged palm strikes aimed at his face with minimal effort. He kept the ends of the staff in play, so Nighteye had to waste energy blocking each time Izuku stepped out of the way of a body shot.

Finally, he grabbed the end of the staff and kicked at Izuku’s face. As he leaned back to avoid the blow, Nighteye pulled the staff forward. He kept his grip on the weapon as he lowered his foot. A single palm strike shattered the haft of the staff.

Nighteye smirked. That moment of pride cost him. Izuku grabbed his wrist and shoulder while taking a step behind him to sweep his leg. Nighteye stepped back with his right foot and brought his left leg up in a textbook counter. The problem with textbook counters was most fighters had seen them before. Izuku countered the hip toss by shifting to wrap his arms around Nighteye’s waist. He lifted the hero and suplexed him.

Following the motion, Izuku rolled on top of Nighteye’s chest. He got in two good strikes before Nighteye started to throw him off with a bridge. Izuku moved down his body to lock his leg. Nighteye kicked with his other foot, but the boy ignored it in favor of setting the lock in and applying pressure.

Nighteye rolled Izuku onto his back by shoving the inside of his knee. He rocked forward, cupping the back of Izuku’s head as he shoved his right leg down. He sat on the boy’s thigh to keep him from bringing his leg back up; and shifted his grip. He pulled Izuku’s elbow up as he heel-kicked out of the lock.

Now in mount position, he glowered down at Izuku. Izuku shifted to throw the mount, but Nighteye leaned to the opposite side and placed his hand on the mat. Grabbing Nighteye’s suit jacket like it was a gi, Izuku pulled him forward to get both hands on the mat. He pushed Nighteye up at the armpits while bridging. He brought his feet up to replace his hands, which he shifted to Nighteye’s abdomen. He continued pushing and rolled on his back in a slow reverse summersault. Nighteye was splayed out on the mat and he grabbed one of Nighteye’s feet for an ankle lock.

“Very good. Enough.” Nighteye stood as soon as Izuku released him. “Are you familiar with any other weapons?”

“Yeah, a couple. I just started with the chain whip and throwing, but I’m good at knife fighting.”

“You’re all over the place with skills aren’t you?”

“I know it’s a bit of an issue. I’ve just been learning what people can teach me. I don’t want to abandon the skills I’ve already trained up, but I need to find something to focus on.”

“Try these.” Nighteye offered him four contract seals. Izuku noted that the seals were made of a high-density material, each weighing about ten pounds. Nighteye demonstrated their use by throwing one at a target on the far side of the room. It was embedded in the center of the bull’s eye. “Now you try. Keep going until you get tired.”

Izuku took a few moments to familiarize himself with the weight and shape of the seals. His first few throws were awkward and several fell short of the target. Holding two in each hand was a pain, and he released them at the same time more often than not. After half an hour, his arms ached. After an hour, his whole body ached. After two hours, he regretted not having breakfast with Kurogiri.

 

Koda quivered at the tall, muscular man that stood before him. Yesterday, he had let the pair train together; today he has sent Uraraka out to patrol with his sidekicks. The dojo was silent except for the chattering of Koda’s teeth and the occasional whimper.

“This isn’t going to be fun, and please understand that I don’t do this with malicious intent.” Gunhead gave a signal and the pair of retired police dogs stood up, growling and stalking toward him. “You have to learn to talk in front of people. Even if you don’t give interviews – which would tank your ranking – you have to be able to give instructions during a rescue. People’s lives will be on the line.” He signaled again and the dogs lunged forward, snapping and snarling.

Koda quivered, quailed, and shrank back. He was by no means afraid of the dogs. They were funny actually. One of them kept saying, “I am a big scary dog, and I am earning my treats!”

He took a steadying breath and began talking softly. “You’re both doing such a good job. You’re very scary boys.” He held his hand over his mouth. “You deserve so many treats.”

Despite the continued growling and snarling, their tails began to wag.

“Head pats and ear scritched, belly rubs,” Koda continued trying to ignore that Gunhead was there.

“Good,” the man said, and Koda flinched. “Now lower your hands.”

Koda shook his head and clasped his hands tightly over his mouth.

The dogs, recently trained to detect and react to anxiety, swarmed him. “You’re safe. I’ll protect you.”

“I… okay.” Koda lowered his hands to scratch their ears. “You’re both good protectors that deserve teats; if, if you go back to Gunhead, he will g-give you a treat. Okay?”

“But you’re still scared.”

“I. Yeah, but you’re doing a good job. Thank you.” Koda steeled his resolve and pointed to the pro hero. “The treats are in his right breast pocket. Please bring them here.”

The dogs seemed to nod and turned to Gunhead.

He laughed. “Good. That’s more like it.” He let the pair knock him down and take the treat bag.

 

“Why do I have to wear this?” Bakugo growled as he was fitted for lifts and a padded chest plate.

“We all wear them,” the woman fitting him said. “It keeps us safe.”

“My costume is fine.”

“You will wear this as you accompany me,” Gang Orca said from behind him. “No gender, age, or background will inhibit you while under my care. You will be operating as one of my sidekicks. Given the legal restrictions placed on you, this is the only option for you. The standard support gear will make up for the lack of a quirk, because if you use yours in the field this internship is over. You got that?”

“Yes, sir,” Bakugo growled.

“Good,” Gang Orca said, his deep voice rumbling. “Now, we’re going to give a tour, then head out for patrol.”

“A tour? Like to snot-nosed kids?”

“Yes. You could learn a lot about interacting with the public from this. Even your fans will ask hard questions or make rude comments from time to time. Knowing how to respond is the difference between a flat boring hero and a dynamic persona.”

 

“After this photoshoot, she’s scheduled to be a guest on a radio show, and she has a quick magazine interview,” Yaoyorozu said with a groan.

 “I feel like we’re her entourage, not her interns,” Kendo complained.

Yaoyorozu snapped the day planner closed. “This is part of what it takes to be a hero. It’s unavoidable given the age we live in. And we should focus on the lessons we can glean from our time with her. Time management, public image, finance. Even if we have different goals these skills will be valuable.” She ran her hand over the scars on her arm. “She’s a well-respected hero, showing us the ins and outs of the industry we have chosen to dedicate our lives to.”

“It just seems so shallow, to me.”

“Have you ever been told, ‘Don’t drown in shallow water’?”

“I mean kinda, yeah.”

“Think of it as her teaching us to stand up,” Yaoyorozu explained. “Aizawa-sensei and Kan-sensei will teach us to fight, and rescue. They can’t teach us the pitfalls of being a woman in this line of work.”

Kendo frowned and nodded. The pair returned to observing Uwabami with renewed determination.

 

Shinso carried the cooler as Siren led him down a series of narrow, winding back streets. Occasionally, they would stop and fish out a bag and pass it in through an open window or cracked door to a child, or Siren would crouch down in front of a sleeping bum. Soon enough, though, they entered a multi-story parking structure that looked like someone had tried to convert it into a skate park.

“It’s okay, guys,” Siren called, “he’s with me.” She gestured for him to put the cooler down. “Star, sweetie, it’s your favorite: Chicken.”

A timid girl in a middle school sweater over a too-big men’s white button-up, and a very short, violently red skirt came up. “H-hi.” She had a long ponytail in the back, an undercut on one side with her chin-length hair hiding her face, and the other side was shaved into a lotus flower. The whole thing was obviously dyed and redyed with the roots showing.

“Hey,” Shinso said back.

“What’s your quirk?” a girl with a pierced tongue and a tank top with an eye on it asked.

When Shinso hesitated to answer, Siren said, “He’s like me, so don’t fuck with him.” She tossed the girl a bag. “Come, there’s enough for everyone.”

Star pushed her hair behind her ear revealing a star tattoo under her eye that faded from solid black to barely different from her skin tone. “I can shift ink around on my skin.”

“That sounds cool,” Shinso said with a nod.

“Do you like tattoos?”

“Not especially. I mean I don’t judge but I’m not really into them.”

“Good,” she said. “Guys who like tats are creeps.”

Shinso nodded again. “Guys that fetishize anything are creeps, but I could see with that quirk where you’d need to look out for those fucks in particular.”

“Hey, that reminds me, Si, there’s this um, new, like, drug. It’s pink. And, uh, it absorbs through the skin.”

“Do you have a sample?” Siren asked.

“No,” the tank-top girl said.

“My coat is covered with the stuff,” Star said softly. She fetched a brown paper bag. “Here. It, um it itches and made me really hot, and uh, you know…”

“Lowered your inhibitions?”

“It does more than that,” she said flatly.

“I see.”

 

Asuka spread his wings as wide as he could to get the most out of the updraft coming off the hot street below. Glidar was ahead of him crisscrossing between the buildings. Learning the thermal dynamics of the city streets and roofs was making all the difference today. 

“Shit,” Glidar said landing on a seven-story office building. “Do you see that gecko?”

“Yes,” he replied, landing beside the hero.

“He’s about fifty pounds outside of my weight class. You think you can handle him?”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Not if I accidentally knock him down and you rescue him.”

“Now I’m sure it’s illegal.”

“Then leave it to me,” she called as the pair swooped toward the skyscraper. 

Asuka circled nervously as Glidar dove toward the potential villain like a bird of prey. Her mechanical talons closed around his waist and she snatched him from the side of the building.

The gecko squawked, the sound lost to the whipping wind. He wiggled and jostled, and finally unhooked his backpack. He shifted free and plummeted.

Asuka could tell he was trying to angle toward the building, but he didn’t have enough control. Tucking his wings tightly against his sides, Asuka dove after the gecko. He came along beside him and grabbed his legs. Just as Asuka unfurled his wings, they were snapped back to his sides.

Glidar soared overhead, wrapping the line for the net around a sky bridge. The jolt as the line snapped taunt was bone-rattling. It knocked the wind out of both of them. She lowered them gently on the long thin line and the police were waiting below.

“I should have let you handle it,” Asuka said sheepishly when the police were done lecturing him about getting in the way.

“No,” Glidar said firmly. “Those are the exact instincts you should have. As a flying hero, a falling person is always a rescue. Rescues take priority. Even if they don’t get the glory, they’re why we do this job.”

If not for his beak, Asuka would have smiled.

 

Bakugo growled fish facts at the second group of six-year-olds they led around. “There are over thirty thousand known species of fish.”

“How come you’re dressed like that?”

“Some flatfish use camouflage to hide themselves on the ocean floor,” Bakugo read off his flash cards.

Gang Orca let out a great booming laugh. The kids shrieked and then laughed with him.

Bakugo was glad for the full-face mask as he flushed when he realized. With another growl, he powered through. He only needed to talk on the walk between tanks. “Over a thousand fish species are threatened by extinction.”

“That was good,” Gang Orca reassured him as they arrived at the Seahorse tank. “Seahorse eggs hatch after up to 45 days in a pouch on the male seahorse’s abdomen. Baby seahorses are each about the size of a jellybean. So look closely, kids.”

“Wow!” “I see one!” “Cool!” “They’re my favorite!”

“Mr. flatfish?” one kid asked Bakugo quietly.

“What?”

“I have to use the potty,” he said pointing at the nearby bathroom sign.

“Ugh. Fine.” Bakugo made a fist with his thumb between his index and middle finger and shook it until he had Gang Orca’s attention. It took the hero a second, but he nodded at the pair. “Come on, brat.”

“I’m not a brat,” the child complained as they headed to the restroom.

“All kids are brats.”

The boy stuck his tongue out at Bakugo.

“See?” he replied, a grin evident in his voice.

 

The waves lapped at the side of the boat. A cool breeze ruffled the feathers of a seagull resting on the bow. Fukami gazed at the clear blue sky. She had cleaned the whole deck yesterday. Croc had shown her four different forms they had to fill out in the event of an incident. 

He had been right about finding ways to entertain yourself. The day was stretching on slowly. With his mutation, Croc could sit back in the warm sun and relax the day away, whereas she needed more to occupy her busy mind.

Fukami began to tidy the wheelhouse.

“You wanna learn to drive?” Croc asked. He pulled a pair of rough, faded jeans on.

“I… Yes.” 

Croc explained the controls and demonstrated how they worked. “Give it a try,” he said, stepping aside. They were in open water, so there was little danger of running into anything. 

Fukami took the controls. She was cautious and steered clear of the ferries and shipping lanes. 

“You’re doing good,” Croc complimented her.

A sudden loud crash, accompanied by shouting had Croc scrambling to take over. He edged her out rather than reaching around her. On instinct Fukami retreated to the far corner of the ceiling, her skin turning almost white with fright.

“You lower the anchor, I’m going in,” Croc called as ran out of the wheelhouse and dove over the railing. 

Fukami slithered down immediately, her skin returning to its normal deep purple. She had to circle a bit before she found the correct controls. Once anchored she went out on deck to watch the rescue. Croc was engaged with a villain that had some sort of shark mutation. It latched onto his shoulder while he grabbed it and slammed violently back and forth.

Fukami watched in horror, color draining once again, as blood filled the water when the villain released Croc. Cookie cutter shark, she realized. The wound would be shallow.

More immediately, in front of her, the wrecked ferry listed dangerously to one side. The Coast Guard was just starting to cross the harbor. With a thin frown on her face, Fukami stretched out and grabbed the side of the ferry with two of her tentacles. “Women and children first.”

 

Shinso carried the second cooler into a homeless camp, made up of mostly teens, set up in an abandoned school. Siren pointed out a pair of sisters, Kawa-san and Katsumi-chan, the younger of them looking to be barely in middle school.

“Make sure they get their specific bags, they need the extra protein.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” Shinso fished out the bags and went over to the girls. “Here.”

“Thanks, cutie,” the older girl said.

“No,” Shinso replied with a sigh.

“He’s a hero, Kawa-Oneesan. Not like Matsu-san!” She turned to Shinsho. “Matsu-san was Kawa’s boyfriend but Si-san saved us from him! Are you Si’s boyfriend?”

“No, she’s training me.”

“Oh,” the girl deflated. “Matsu-san trained Kawa. She was his good girl.”

Shinso blanched. “No, no, no. Not like that. Siren-sensei is teaching me to be a hero. She’s a hero. A real hero.”

The girl brightened up again. “Good. Kawa and I heard a rumor.”

“Yeah? What did you hear?”

“Orochi-kun, that’s Matsu-san’s best friend’s brother, well he started using!”

“That’s tragic,” Shinso said.

Katsumi-chan nodded sagely. “And, and, and it’s not like the regular stuff, his stuff lasts and last!”

“Yeah? I’ll let Siren-sensei know. Thank you.” He pulled out his wallet and handed her a five hundred yen bill.

“Two thousand is the minimum, buddy.”

Kawa blushed and gently grasped her sister’s shoulder.

“Uh, also no. This is for the info. Get a pair of flip-flops or a coffee, or whatever,” Shinso explained. He shook his head. “Poor kid.”

“I don’t need your pity,” she said, but she didn’t sound angry.

“No you don’t,” Shinso agreed. “Pity is useless.”

She nodded again.

 

Sweat dripped off Sasaki. His breath came in ragged gasps. Next to him, Midoriya continued to throw the ten-pound weights at the target. His muscle memory was already quite good, but his endurance was what had rendered the pro hero speechless. Midoriya was as fresh as the moment they had started. The only difference the past six hours had made was an improvement in accuracy.

“Sorry, I didn’t get your lunch order. Sir said not to disturb you two,” Bubble Girl called, tiredly. “I just got you a burger and fries.”

“Cool. I’m starved.” Midoriya grinned at her; a wide and pleasant smile that spoke of true delight at seeing her. “Just let me freshen up.” He set the seals aside and jogged to the apartment across the hall.

Sasaki turned his attention to Bubble Girl. He stalked toward her as he lectured, “You know there is no future for a society without both humor and energy.” He took hold of her wrist to secure her into the tickle machine.

“Wait, no. Oh, please don’t–” she pleaded.

 “I do not consent to this scene,” Midoriya said dryly from behind him. He shook his wet hair to fling droplets onto Sasaki.

He cocked his head. “Odd, I didn’t hear you come back.”

“That’s because you’re too loud.”

“Funny.”

“You shouldn’t fake high energy or humor. It’s exhausting. It’ll cause burnout. Also, she said ‘no’.”

Sasaki dropped her wrist. He turned fully toward Midoriya. There was defiance and anger in his eyes and a kind of judgment he’d seen in the mirror too many times. Midoriya would absolutely fight him on this. Sasaki sighed and adjusted his glasses. “I assure you if Bubble Girl truly had a problem with my methods, she would say so. However, your concern is admirable, as is your ability to speak up to an authority figure.” He turned back to Bubble Girl. “Try to keep your spirits up in the future. Take a break if you need it.”

He could see Midoriya give a curt nod before he grabbed his bag of food.

“He’s not as harsh as he seems,” Juzo-kun assured the boy.

Midoriya shook his head. “I get that he’s the straight man in this vaudeville show, but perception is king. It doesn’t matter if he means it or not, it’s what he’s putting out there.”

 Juzo-kun nodded, frowning. “We will keep that in mind.”

 

“Hey, Tenya-kun,” Manual said smiling, “Let’s get a couple of waters. Sometimes this convenience store has good freebies.”

“Uh, of course, proper hydration is important.”

As they entered the store, a man with a gun quirk was shouting at the cashier. “Hurry up you dumb bitch! I don’t have all day.”

“I-I, I’m trying but it’s my first day!”

“Wow,” Manual said still smiling, “This is a daring daylight robbery!”

The gunman turned on him. “Stay out of it, asshole.”

“Yeah, it’s not my business,” he agreed. “But I worked a register just like that all through high school; I could open it if you want.”

The man hesitated seeing that Manual was very clearly a pro hero. “Get the fuck out of here or I shoot the dumb bitch!”

“Now, now, there’s no reason for violence,” he said. “I can’t take down someone with a quirk like yours. And rescue is my top priority, so let’s just calm down. I’ll pop the register and you can be on your way. Sound good?” He slowly inched forward.

The gunman lowered his hand. He licked his lips. His tongue was jet black. He stepped back in the aisle. “Be quick about it.”

“Okay, friend.”  Manual moved to behind the counter. “If you could just lie down, so I have room…”

“Oh, y-yeah,” the cashier stammered. She crouched on the floor.

Manual started to fiddle with the register when a gallon jug flew off the shelf and beamed the gunman in the head.

“What the fuck?”

Two more gallons careened into him. He flailed and fell to the floor, his head smacking the tile hard. Manual leaped the counter and flipped the gunman over to cuff him. “Tenya, contact the police for me.”

“Right, yes sir!” 

Manual patted the villain down and found an empty vile and syringe in his pocket. “If this is what I think it is, this just turned into two felonies, friend.”

 

Minoru woke up on the rollaway in the walk-in closet. He groaned and stretched. They were renting the whole penthouse suit, but they made him sleep in a closet. It was mean and degrading, they all had rooms and real beds.

He staggered out into the room he was ‘sharing’ with Wildfire. The man was sprawled out on the bed completely naked, barely covered by the sheet, and snoring lightly. He could hear water running in the ensuite. Someone was in the bathroom. Had Wildfire gone back out to pick up a club bunny? Or was it a sexy escort?

Minoru grinned mischievously as he snuck into the bathroom hoping to see some boobies. The shower was running and there was a slim, square figure under the spray. Their hair was short and black, so it wasn’t one of the twins. As they washed, they hummed; little motes of light shimmered around them, bobbing in time to the tune and obscuring his view.

As he gazed slack-jawed at the naked form, he bumped into the laundry hamper and let out a soft grunt.

“Oh,” they let out a surprised shout as they turned. They were flat-chested. Suddenly long, flowing blond hair cascaded over their shoulders, and covered their body. “Mineta!”

“I have to use the toilet,” he stammered quickly, recognizing Glam now that she was facing him.

“Out,” she commanded, one arm pointing to the door while the other covered her now ample bosom. “Little pervert.”

“I am not,” he whined, slinking out. “It's not my fault I have to pee.”

“What are you up to?” Wildfire asked groggily.

“Trying to use the toilet, but Glam is in there instead of using her own.”

Wildfire sat bolt upright. “Living room, now.” He stood and strode into the bathroom.

Sullenly, Minoru left the room. He was forbidden from going into the girls’ rooms, so he couldn't use the bathroom. It wasn't fair.

Wildfire came out a few minutes later, in a bathrobe and sat across from him on the leather sofa set. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Nothing! I have to pee! I didn't know she was in there!” He wailed.

Wildfire frowned. “You know I've been told about your behavioral issues, right?”

“I don't have issues,” he argued. “Hound Dog thinks I harass the girls, but I don’t.”

“You either walked into the bathroom knowing it was occupied, to peep on whoever was in there, or you didn’t know and I am truly appalled by your lack of situational awareness. Your choice.”

“I didn’t know,” he lied.

“Okay.” Wildfire stood. “We’ll work on your situational awareness. A hero has to be aware of their surroundings at all times, or they die. Dress in something nondescript.” He stood up and strode back into the bedroom.

 

 “Finally,” Kendo sighed. “Real hero stuff.”

Yaoyorozu nodded in agreement. “It is a nice change of pace.”

The three were patrolling the area around a park. “Don’t let the upscale neighborhood fool you girls,” Uwabami said as she waved to some fans. “This area sees a lot of drug use and prostitution at night.”

“Uwabami! Uwabami, over here!” a man with a camera shouted.

“Oh,” she sounded disappointed, “it’s you.”

“Come on baby! Don’t be like that,” he said, his camera flashing as he snapped photos. “Who are these cuties? Well, the redhead anyway. Don’t worry, ponytail, I’ll edit out those scars!”

Yaoyorozu glared and began to create an object with her quirk.

“Yaomomo,” Kendo warned.

She handed each of them a striking black and white scarf. “It’s highly reflective, so he can take as many pictures as he wants.”

“Oh, like that one company!” Uwabami said. “Those are so expensive.”

“My mother has one that’s reversible, black on one side and gold and reflective on the other.”

“I am so jealous,” Uwabami said wrapping the scarf around her shoulders dramatically. “You girls are the bes…” She stopped, her snakes all pointing at the photographer.

He had chucked a little baggie of pink dust at them. Kendo enlarged her hands and clapped blowing the bag and dust away and knocking the photographer down.

“Creati, find that bag and mark its location. Don’t get any of that powder on you, I don’t know what it is,” Uwabami ordered. “Fist, hold him down while I put the zip cuffs on him.”

 

Gang Orca chuckled as a group of street toughs scrambled to hide their spray paint. “I don’t care about a little harmless vandalism, boys. You might be overdoing it a bit though. Six new murals and I heard a rumor there was paint on the shrine near the library.”

“Ay, yo, that ain’t us, if it’s true. We know better than ta fuck with a shrine, man. I don’t wanna get cursed.”

“Yeah, curse of da pissed-off fish man.”

“Oooh! Boy you askin’ for a beat down.”

Gang Orca laughed. “Well if it wasn’t you delinquents, then who?”

One of them flipped open a sketchbook. “If it’s not a resurfacing –”

“Resurgence,” his friend corrected.

“Right, right. A resurgence of the Double Sevens, then it might be this new push. What did Hiro say they was called?”

“The Daybreakers,” the third said. “Here their sign looks like this.” He took the sketchbook. When he handed it to Gang Orca he had drawn a crown with a sunburst behind it.

“A bit elaborate for a gang sign,” he commented.

“I’ve seen that before,” Bakugo said. “These matchbooks started showing up around Mustafa last year. Apparently, it was a nightclub, but it got shut down pretty quick.”

“Good work looking out, boys. You stay out of trouble. Speaking of which, Kaisha-kun, where’s your older brother?”

“Art school, fish man. He got in, by turning his murals and sketches into a portfolio. So ha.”

“Good, good. I expect the rest of you layabouts to make something of yourselves, then.” He snapped a photo of the symbol with his phone.

After they left, Bakugo asked, “What was that about, why bother with them?”

“Simple, having a report with the locals is important. Knowing the players teaches you the game. And that game is a generational grind. Delinquents become thugs. Thugs become villains. And sometimes all it takes to break the cycle is a little respect.”

“You showed those losers respect? And now what? They don’t wanna be criminals anymore?”

“Bakugo, they never wanted to be criminals. They thought that was all they could be.” Gang Orca towered over him. “I taught them respect, yes by showing them some, so they’d know what it looked like. No one had ever expected more from them. And now one of them is in college. Just to spite me.” He paused and dabbed his eyes. “I’ve never been prouder.”

 

Shinso carried the third cooler as Siren led him to a back alley. The wall he was leaning against vibrated with the thump of a cranked base. What parts of the alley weren’t covered in band flyers were covered in some kind of graffiti. It smelled like piss, sweat, and leather. The air was damp as if the climate in the alley was different from the surrounding area. Three heavy metal doors entered into the alley, one was guarded by two serious-looking men.

“Genki-san, your lunch,” Siren said, handing the older beefy guy the bag. “Hear any hot tea?”

“Thanks, Si. Nah, just some stupid rumors about a group selling a thing that can stop your quirk from working.”

Siren nodded and passed bags to the bands and club bunnies as they came out the door. “Come in with me, Jack. It’ll be fine as long as you steer clear of the bar."

Inside instead of the nightclub he expected, Shinso found a movie studio. They were changing the backdrop and staging for the next group. Siren handed out bags to the dancers that were lined up to go on.

As she did she explained, "Mostly they film music videos here. The crew isn't union for various reasons and the dancers are usually down on their luck, otherwise they wouldn't work here. It's like a last stop before falling back on porn or prostitution. The little we do for them can keep them from making that decision, sometimes they even make it back on their feet.”

“Come on, Siren, can’t you fatten up the girls after the shoot?” someone yelled.

“Fuck you, Zen,” she called back.

“Si, you are a fucking lifesaver,” a lean male dancer said. He drained a box of milk, a peach jelly pouch, and a bottle of water as the other dancers took time out to eat. Masashi-san, Shinso realized. He didn’t have any solids in his bag. There was also a poorly disguised row of stitches across his abdomen. He must have been working here until he healed because he couldn't get a gig elsewhere with the stitches. He could also have trouble landing work with a serious scar.

“Here, Yubi-chan,” Siren handed a bag to a woman working the camera, “keep that away from Zinan, okay?”

“Yeah, he’s been doing so well for the last couple of months. I think it might actually stick this time.”

“Here’s hoping.”

Shinso marveled at the setup: Three Hollywood-style cameras, a row of five mirrors for hair and makeup, and a full bar instead of a Kraft foods table.

 

“Why are we doing this so high up? What if I fall?” Tokoyami asked peering over the edge of the building. The lights of the cars below blurred into streams of red and white. Dark Shadow tightened his grip around his waist.

“Then I’ll have plenty of time to catch you, baby bird.” Hawks pushed the pair off the roof. “Fly!”

They plummeted for four stories until Hawks’ feather caught them. “Keep trying!”

 

Minoru was nearly in tears. All day the six of them ducked in and out of the studio that their target was at. Whenever he crossed paths with Wildfire or the twins they would grill him on who and what was in the green room, the dressing room, in hair and makeup, or on set. Where were the entrances and exits? What did he think people were going to do next? How was he supposed to know if the gaffer was going to adjust the lighting, fix the starlet’s costume, or check the Kraft services table? He didn’t even know what a gaffer was!

“Figure it out,” Wildfire told him. “You’re a hero, act like it. You don’t have time to be overwhelmed or star-struck, or whatever else is going on in your head. People’s lives are on the line. These girls are in danger and it’s our job to find out who’s responsible and stop it.” He stared at Minoru and his quivering lip for a moment before sighing. “The gaffer is the head electrician, responsible for the execution – and sometimes the design – of the lighting plan for a production.” He pointed out a man in his mid-thirties wearing a plain dark blue tee, jeans, a bulky tool belt, and thick-soled work boots. He was nondescript and faded into the background like a piece of scenery; except for the faded red lines of a tattoo just visible below his sleeve on his right bicep.

“Then why is he always touching the girls before they go into the dressing rooms with their costars?”

“Explain?”

“He was doing it yesterday too. He’s always adjusting their outfits, and bringing them water.”

Wildfire nodded slowly. “That’s good. Not that he’s doing it, but that you caught it. I’ll let the girls know.”

 

Shoto kept his flames low, but his arm raised, as he followed the deer trail down the mountain. A family had been reported missing in the area. They’d been gathering mushrooms, supposedly. Shoto wondered idly if they were even in season at this time of year.

Snowfall broke him out of his thoughts with a call of, “Frostburn! Check-in!”

“Here!” he returned loudly.

She and Solstice were always so loud. So jovial. Smiling and laughing. They were nothing like his family.

“Snow is falling, hail is falling! Falling and falling, piling up thick and deep~!” Snowfall sang. “Come on Shoto! Sing with me so they know we’re coming to rescue them!”

“I don’t know the words,” he called back.

“I know that one,” a small voice said beside him.

Shoto turned to see a young boy with no shoes and torn pants huddled under a bush.

“The mountains, the fields are covered with snow! Bare trees will be covered with flowers of snow~!” the child joined Snowfall.

“Can you walk?” Shoto asked.

The boy nodded. “I’m cold.”

“I can help with that.” Shoto reached out, lowering his flame and only producing a gentle heat.

“Frostburn!” Snowfall shouted when she noticed his flame go out.

“Snow is falling, hail is falling. Falling and falling, and not yet stop falling. The dog is running in the garden with joy of snowing. While the cat curls up in the kotatsu~!” he sang to let her know where he was and that he was safe.

Chapter 40: A Night Out

“Hey baby won’t you look my way, I can be your new addiction~.” Siren’s voice slithered around his ears languidly. It brought to mind images of smoke and whisky; rich and smooth but burning in an alluring way. “It started with a whisper…”

The dancers were hypnotized by the mellow tone of her voice. Despite still being captivated, those more familiar with her performances would occasionally hoot or whistle as she gyrated her hips in time with the slowed song.

The director, Zen, stood next to him, tapping his foot in time to the beat. “She could make so much money if she’d give up this hero bullshit.” He turned to Shinso. “It’ll eat you alive and still be starving kid. Hero work is worse than the porn industry.”

“Hey,” Yubi-chan hissed, “leave the kid alone. Maybe he ain’t in it for the money or the fame.”

“What else is there?”

“Helping people.”

“Yeah, and it’s killing her faster than that foggy fuck from seven years ago.”

“Zen! That is not okay. You know she’s still bothered about that.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m the asshole. What else is new?” He shook his head and walked away. “Fast or slow we all gotta go.”

“How the fuck did Si grow up with a brother like that?” Yubi-chan asked.

Shinso realized then that the man had the same startling pink eyes and shaggy hair. While his hair was a pink that bordered on beige, hers was a subtle sage green. “Family dynamics are weird. He’s just worried about her.” More to himself he added, “I don’t blame him.”

 

Shoto had fallen asleep in the backseat of Solstice’s truck, the six-year-old he’d found on the mountain wrapped in a shock blanket and tucked tightly into his left side. His hair started as white close to the scalp and darkened to yellow, then orange, and finally to red. It looked like a little flame.

“Because he’s quirkless. Apparently, the father was trying to force quirk manifestation,” Bonfire explained softly. She was holding her cell phone in both hands. “He said it was cold enough to scare the boy, but not old enough to kill him if he stayed out all night.”

“That’s disgusting,” Snowfall commented quietly, to not wake them.

Shoto nodded his agreement, and gently carded his fingers through the boy’s hair. “Why do people have to put so much emphasis on quirks? It’s not even like most jobs require them.”

Bonfire turned in the driver’s seat. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you. They found the dad; still looking for the mom, but there’s some evidence that she might not even be on the mountain.”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“Someone from the Child Guidance Center will be up soon, and they take him to Hakodate. After that, the courts will hear what his parents have to say and decide what’s best for him. If his parents stick to the father’s story they’ll be reprimanded but he’ll be returned.”

Shoto frowned at that.

“However, it was the grandparents on the wife’s side that reported them missing, so if they have any further evidence of mistreatment or abandonment by the parents they might be awarded custody.”

“That’s good,” Shoto said softly. “I think.”

“Having options is always good,” Snowfall agreed. “I wish people would get it through their thick heads that that forced manifestation crap is bullshit. People have instincts about how to activate their quirk. You can’t make it happen through abuse.”

The child let out a soft distressed noise.

“Hush, now. Let him sleep.”

 

Wildfire stretched and yawned. “Hey, kid,” he tossed Minoru a pair of swim trunks, “put those on and meet us in the hot tub. It’s the next best thing to a post-workout message.”

“Okay.” He trudged into the bathroom to get changed. He had to admit his body was sore. A hot soak and water jets did sound nice. Plus, the girls would be in skimpy bathing suits! Minoru changed slowly as he savored the fantasy of string, thong, Brazilian, and high-cut bikinis. He was quick to rub one out before joining them; he knew the twins would tease him if he came out with an erection.

Reality was only slightly less revealing than fantasy. Each girl was wearing a variation of a triangle bikini with side ties. Razzle and Dazzle had coordinated their suits to match their gradated hair with a bubble-gum blue top and cotton-candy pink bottoms (and vice versa). Glitz and Glam wore dark red suits with black ties. Wildfire was wearing a gold Speedo and pouring a glass of champagne for everyone.

Still, Minoru couldn’t help staring and drooling a little. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand and tried to collect himself. The hot tub could seat eight to ten people so there was plenty of room. it was also clearly designed with quirks in mind because instead of molded seats with an array of jets, it was bench seating with staggered rows of jets. There was even a weighted cushion for him to use. That was a surprisingly considerate gesture.

When he stepped toward the hot tub, Wildfire said, “Uh, uh, uh. The price of admission is one compliment each. No comments on looks.”

Minoru frowned. They were so mean. He just wanted to relax, and besides, they invited him. He sighed. There was no arguing with them. “It’s so difficult to compliment girls,” he muttered.

“Whaaaat?” Wildfire said as if the statement genuinely baffled him. “Girls are easy. Four go-to compliments: There is something about you that is so uplifting; I love how easy it is to be around you; your presence is so refreshing; and I really enjoy talking to you. Easy.” He frowned. “Did no one teach you anything?”

He shook his head.

Wildfire sighed. “Okay, we’ll work on it. You need to be charming to be a hero. Get in. Lesson one: compliments. Most people fall for generic, stock compliments.”

“You’re so cute/handsome/pretty/good-looking,” Razzle said fluttering her eyelashes.

“I can’t believe how smart/clever/strong/skilled you are,” Dazzle said feigning a swoon.

Glitz put her hand over her heart and said, “I wish I was as brave/kind/compassionate/cool as you.”

With the most sincere tone he had ever heard, Glam said, “I truly admire you/your hard work and dedication. You are an inspiration. I enjoy working/spending time with you. You are enough.”

“Now you try,” Wildfire said, holding a glass of champagne just out of Minoru's reach.

“Um,” he started awkwardly. “You bring out the best in other people?”

“Good. Again, but try to be more confident.”

“You brighten my day.”

“Excellent. Now,” Wildfire said moving the glass in front of his face, “look me in the eyes and make me believe it.”

“I… I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You lied straight to my face about not knowing someone was in the bathroom, you can do this.”

“I wasn’t ly–”

“Can it, you’re not in trouble, anymore. Now muster up that sheer audacity again, and tell me I’m pretty.”

“You said no comments on looks,” Minoru pointed out.

“Ha, yeah. Good, you remembered. Any compliment will do.”

Minoru looked down and tried to think of a genuine compliment that he meant but didn’t make him cringe. That was a big problem for him. He decided to just go for it and blurt out whatever and hope for the best. “You inspire me to work hard.”

Wildfire gave him a lopsided grin and handed him the champagne. “That was good. Keep it up, kid.”

“Eventually, it will come naturally,” Glam added.

“Isn’t that… I don’t know, shallow and fake?” he asked.

“You want relationship advice?” Wildfire asked. “We named our agency Smoke and Mirrors; the only people I’m ever real with are in this hot tub. Relationships are hard; messy. They take time and work. And that’s not just the romantic or sexual ones, its friendships, its coworkers, teachers, classmates. Being genuine… that’s not something I can teach you. The mechanics of interacting with people? That’s my wheelhouse. Ten easy steps. One, make eye contact; it builds trust and intimacy. Two, give compliments; people love hearing positive things about themselves, just don’t overdo it. Three, smile; it radiates positivity and warmth. Four, keep your body language relaxed and open; no crossing your arms or hands on your hips, it's defensive or aggressive. Five, employ mirroring; be subtle but it shows empathy and connection. Six, show interest in them; be genuine or learn to fake it. Seven, spend time with them; familiarity breeds comfort. Eight, make friends with their friends; people will trust you more if you have common allies. Nine, Be honest, or at least seen as honest; people don't like liars. Ten, listen more than you speak; try to do no more than forty percent of the talking in a group setting.”

“That’s…”

“That’s years of practice and education boiled down to be easily digestible.” Wildfire looked away. “Being charismatic, hell even being sociable doesn’t come naturally to me. It’s all a front. Give it a shot; you can do it.” He turned back to him. “I believe in you, Minoru Mineta.”

Minoru swallowed and nodded. He wasn’t stupid. He knew it was fake; just social reciprocity kicking in. But it was working. He felt up lifted. He felt confided in. He felt trusted. He could play the game. “Eleven, use their name? It can be a powerful way to build relationships, show respect, and grab attention. And twelve, touch the hand or arm; brush fingers for flirting, bump shoulders for friends. Am I missing anything?”

“The ability to put it into practice,” Glam replied. “We can teach you if you’re willing to learn.”

“Okay.”

 

Izuku sighed as he practically crawled into Kurogiri’s arms. “Make sure I have breakfast before I leave, please. I was afraid of going mute from the training alone.”

Kurogiri adjusted his facemask and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on his covered lips. “I’ll be gentle with you tonight, then, Love.”

“Is Nighteye being too rough with you?” Toga asked from the barstool next to Tomura.

“Nah, it was just a long session. We started right when I got back and didn’t stop until Bubble Girl brought lunch for everyone.”

Toga leaned over the bar to the pair. “He’s working you too hard.”

“I know. Aizawa-sensei would kill me if he knew, but I kinda wanna know what my limit is.”

“Be careful,” Kurogiri said warningly. “You are still human.”

“Maybe I need an extra long body awareness session,” Izuku said coyly.

“After I make everyone dinner, and we see what Stain brings us.”

“Boo,” he replied flatly. “I don’t care for him.”

“Nor do I,” Kurogiri agreed as he led the way into the kitchen. “But he may prove to be a valuable resource.”

“Still, he’s … it boils down to if you’re doing the job for anything but altruistic reasons, you should die. And if you are doing the job for altruistic reasons, if you can’t beat him in a fight, you should die.”

“It is a very black-and-grey mode of thinking,” Kurogiri agreed.

“He’s pre-shifted the goalposts,” Izuku grumbled as they began cooking.

 

“How did I let you talk me into this?” Shota grumbled. Even out in the alleyway, the music was too loud. People milled about in way too little clothing, making out, doing drugs, and drinking. The smell of sweat, piss, and vomit stuck in the back of his throat.

Hizashi wrapped his arms around him. His fingers splayed out to caress over the suit jacket, as he eased his hands higher. “Because it counts as work, babe.”

“If this were work, I’d have my capture weapon, not this,” he gestured at the long silk scarf dangling over his shoulders. The heat of Hizashi’s bare chest radiated across his back. Shota reached behind him to grope at his leather-clad ass. The rough cord of the side laces was almost as erotic as Hizashi’s heavy breath on his neck.

He kissed Shota’s ear to distract him from the fact that his deft fingers undid three of the buttons on his shirt. “Go skulk around looking sexy for me. God, I love the way you make this suit look.”

“You mean you love the way this suit makes me look.”

“Nope. I think you’re sexy in that potato sack you call a hero costume, so it’s gotta be you making it look good.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“What about bribery?” Hizashi asked as he flashed their passes at the bouncer at the back door.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, we have quite a while before I go on, and you did bring that scarf…”

“I also brought a handful of zip-cuffs, what’s your point?”

“Come on, Sho,” Hizashi pouted.

“Only you’re allowed to do that.”

Hizashi floundered for a moment, before squeezing his partner’s pecs. “Tease.”

“Oh, I’ll go all the way, Zashi. You just have to tell me what you want.” He leaned back and worried one of the gold studs Hizashi was wearing between his teeth.

 

Stain stood, stooped, in the bar once more.

Tomura sneered into his drink before downing the remainder. “Welcome back, friend.”

“We are not friends,” Stain growled. He flicked a manila envelope onto the bar.

“Do me a favor. I wanna understand you,” Tomura rasped. “See that camera? Tell me about your philosophy. I won’t interrupt.”

“Is this some lame attempt at a trap?”

“Nah,” Izuku said, leaning against the bar. “Even if you confessed to every crime you committed, it wouldn’t change what happens if you get caught. We just think we’re missing something. It’s a flaw on our end. We wanna try and fix it.”

“I still think this is a trap,” Stain muttered, moving to inspect the camera. “But what you could do with it is beyond me.”

Izuku ignored him in favor of diving into the envelope. There were receipts, affidavits, and photographs from a private investigator, as well as hospital records and a paternity test.

Tomura gave a low whistle.

“This is surprisingly thorough.”

Toga gave a quiet cheer. “I knew Stainy would come through!”

“It looks like the woman’s husband hired the detective to prove she was sleeping with her boss,” Kurogiri said. He shuffled the evidence around enough to warp the medical information to the doctor unnoticed. “She was looking for a payday and took advantage of a naive child.”

“Then the family gave it to her,” Izuku added. “They paid for her divorce; paid the husband to keep quiet about the affair. This is a lot of money.”

“What are you thinking?” Tomura asked.

“Why pay that much, why pay her at all? I get keeping the husband quiet, but she’s lucky they didn’t turn her in for statutory rape.”

“Custody,” Kurogiri said simply. “They got full and unconditional custody of Tenya Iida.”

“That does make sense…”

“They totally wanted more kids,” Toga piped up. “Look how happy everyone is in this picture.”

It was a shot through the window of a private hospital. Tensie’s parents were holding the baby while he sat on the edge of the bed smiling fondly at them. The woman was grinning, her hand running down his arm.

“Shit,” Izuku whispered. “They knew.” He scanned the evidence into his notebook, finishing just before Stain was done ranting to the camera.

Kurogiri dropped him in Hosu once more. “We’ll be in touch.”

“We’re going out,” Toga declared.

“Not interested,” Tomura huffed as he made his way to the stairs.

“You should pick the next prank for All Might while we’re gone then,” Izuku said.

Tomura grinned, wide and creepy.

 

The trio entered the club through a back door, slipping some cash to the bouncer. Toga was wearing a deep red, cropped sweater with a simple charcoal pleated skirt and black thigh high stockings. Kurogiri was just in a pair of black slacks, and Izuku was wearing his leather pants and jacket without a shirt. His skin was dusted a soft pink with embarrassment.

They found a dark corner and let the thump of the music crash over them. Izuku was pinned between Kurogiri and Toga, his shadow curling around them. The soothing caress of Kurogiri’s mist and the soft crush of Toga’s sweater made up for being topless in public. He luxuriated in the warmth and safety the pair provided.

Toga spotted a guy harassing a group of club bunnies. “Ugh. Stray-kun, let’s have some fun, shall we?” She pointed to the disturbance.

“I want you to know how hard it is to move from this spot,” Izuku muttered into her ear. His cloth covered mouth found hers. The warmth was intoxicating and she chased after him as he pulled away. Izuku turned to kiss Kurogiri as well, leaning up to nip his chin. He nuzzled his lover’s cheek, teasingly. Kurogiri gripped his hair and covered his mouth with his own. When he released him, Izuku pushed Toga into Kurogiri’s arms. “Hold this,” he said breathily.

“My pleasure.”

As Izuku made his way over, he could see the guy grinding against a girl in a pink leather skirt and matching top. After giving it some thought, Izuku began mimicking the man’s moves, edging closer with each rapid thump of the music. Even with Izuku grinding on him, it took the man a few seconds to notice him.

“What the fuck, man!” the guy whirled around and shoved Izuku.

It was a gross misuse of One for All, but Izuku stayed firmly in place as the guy went sprawling. “Come on, baby,” Izuku called over the music, “It’s just a dance!”

“Fuck off!” The guy scrambled to his feet. The club bunnies were laughing.

“If you smile for me I’ll buy you a drink, beautiful.”

He stormed off into the crowd, with a parting slur.

“Thanks,” Pink said.

“No prob, my girl thinks you’re outfit is on point,” he replied, leaning in to be heard properly.

“Hey, hey, hey, club bunnies!” the DJ shouted, “We got a special treat for you tonight! Present Mic is in the house!”

The crowd cheered.

Izuku turned to Kurogiri. He held his hands loose just above his waist and pulled them up and into fists. “Leave?”

Kurogiri shook his head. He nuzzled Toga’s ear. She gave a lascivious grin and shifted into a young woman with thin features and navy blue hair down to her waist. Hidden gill slits on her neck flared out. She flinched and covered them, blushing a little.

Izuku swept his shadow through the crowd behind him as he made his way back. The deliberate footsteps that pushed their way towards him had to be Eraserhead. Izuku let the pro get right next to them before wrapping him in shadow and slamming him into the wall.

Eraser’s, “Let the girl go,” was cut off with a grunt.

“We have no intention of harming her, or anyone else,” Kurogiri purred in his ear. When he drew back, Eraser was blindfolded with his own scarf. “We’re just here to have fun. You’re here to have fun. I don’t see why we can’t all have a good time.”

“I have a great idea,” Toga whispered into Izuku’s ear.

“Nothing below the belt,” he told her.

Grinning, she gently adjusted Eraserhead’s position.

He growled and struggled. “Fuck. Mic!”

Izuku gave him a slow, careful squeeze. “Behave,” he said huskily, pressing his chest to the man’s back. “He can’t hear you.”

“This one is just for you, babe!” Present Mic called out. It was an older song, but the instant the bass dropped the crowd went crazy.

Izuku searched Eraser’s pockets for a phone. He also found several sets of zip cuffs. He handed a pair to Kurogiri. After securing Eraserhead’s wrists together, they found him much easier to control.

Izuku propped the phone up on the light fixture that was supposed to illuminate the immediate area, and began recording. While the frame was focused on Mic singing along and bopping about in the DJ’s booth, Eraser could just be made out in the bottom corner. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the show.”

Toga pulled out a tube of lipstick. It was the same matte finish burgundy she was wearing. When Eraser jerked his head, smearing it, she gave him a little nip on the chin, which led to Izuku kissing her to make her stop, while Kurogiri cleaned the mark off. Kurogiri held his head firmly in place while she applied the lipstick.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, talk dirty to me, hero,” Kurogiri purred. “Tell me all the things you’d do to us if you could get free.”

“You’re going straight to Tartarus, you bastards.”

“What no fight? No threats? You can do better than that.”

Toga applied blush and highlighter to his cheeks. It looked surprisingly good despite his stubble. Then she moved in to nip and lick her way from his jaw to his collarbone. Kurogiri moved him away from the wall. He slowly undid the buttons of his shirt.

“Hey,” Izuku said, light but warningly as Eraserhead’s scared chest was revealed.

“Body glitter,” Toga replied with a pout.

Izuku grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in for a long sensuous kiss. “Make him pretty.”

Eraser shouted again. “Present Mic! Mic!” The crowd picked up the chant and he stilled in defeat.

Toga produced two tubes of cheap, scented roll-on body glitter. One was strawberry, a typical for-girls pink, and the other was grape with a dark purple gel base and flecks of rainbow glitter. She was limited by the bulkiness of the applicator, but soon a heart was drawn above his left hip, a music note over his heart, and a messy star dominated his right pec. She was careful not to cover the jagged set of claw marks on his ribs or the slash that went from his left shoulder to just above his navel.

Izuku licked his lips under his mask. This was going to give him a fetish, he just knew it.

Giggling, she added a few kisses, and licked his belly button. Eraser squirmed. Izuku swatted her on the rear. “Sorry.” She grinned at him over her shoulder, showing him how not sorry she was.

“Fucking bastards,” Eraser growled. He struggled against the intangible hold, even knowing it had taken All Might some effort to break free. Not that he was fairing any better against the cuffs.

“The worst,” Kurogiri agreed, huskily into his ear. Izuku wasn’t sure how he felt about his boyfriend nuzzling the crook of Eraserhead’s neck. “Oh, do go on, hero. Tell me more.”

“Get the fuck off me, you sick freak.” He bit down on whatever he was going to say next, clearly realizing that a tirade was both useless, and exactly what Kurogiri wanted.

“Come now, where’s that fighting spirit? Show me your heart, hero.” Kurogiri ran his hand slowly over Eraser’s torso. His fingers slid around the various designs, slowly dipping towards his waistband.

Izuku grabbed his wrist, pulled his fingers to his lips. “Mine,” he said, kissing Kurogiri’s fingers.

“Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, Love, I’m sorry.” Kurogiri moved to wrap his arms around Izuku.

“It’s not… I don’t. I’m not upset.”

“You can be,” Kurogiri assured him. He held Izuku tightly, easing his leg between Izuku’s knees.

“Just behave, for now. I’ll examine these feelings later.” The heat of having Kurogiri pressed so closely was calming.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Izuku replied. He glanced shyly up at Kurogiri. “Will you hold him while I do his back?”

“Of course, Love.”

Eraserhead was flipped against the wall. Kurogiri pinned his hands above his head, rubbing his thumb over the smooth surface of the zip cuffs. Izuku kept his legs secure and shoved his shirt and jacket up to reveal his back. There was another set of claw marks on the opposite side, and inch long, half inch wide, parallel indented scars that were just wide of Eraser’s kidneys. Izuku took the purple glitter stick from Toga and sketched a pair of wings across his shoulders. He highlighted it with the pink and had Toga plant a scattering of kisses on his lower back. She lingered to lick the scars, earning her another swat on the butt. She grinned cheekily at him.

“You think you can get away with this?”

“And leave you begging for more, hero.”

“Hizashi!”

Kurogiri froze. Izuku was lucky he still had a hold of Eraserhead as the hero attempted to elbow Kurogiri in the face while pulling the scarf down around his neck. He wound his shadow up his body, recapturing the hero before he could do any damage. Eraser’s hair drifted up as he activated his quirk.

Toga grabbed Kurogiri’s arm, his mist almost flickering out as she dragged him out of Eraser’s line of sight. “Hey!”

“Wha?... I’m sorry. Perhaps we should call it a night,” Kurogiri said enveloping the pair.

“Let’s,” Izuku agreed, shoving Eraser into the crowd.

The hero was quick to his feet, his quirk activating to prevent their escape, but the dark corner was empty. The villains were gone.

 

“What the hell, Kurogiri?” Toga snapped as she dropped her disguise. She looked around the rooftops spotting the club they had just left in the distance. “Take us home.”

“My apologies. I don’t know what happened. It felt like I was drowning.”

“Are you alright now?” Izuku asked.

“Yes, I believe so.” Kurogiri enveloped them in mist again. Izuku and Toga dropped on to his bed. “I’ll let Tomura know we’re back.”

“I heard you come in,” Tomura said from the door. “What happened? You’re usually so quiet.”

“I – I’m not sure,” Kurogiri began. “We were spotted by Eraserhead, and were having a bit of fun with him, when all of a sudden I felt… strange. Like I was trapped.”

Tomura was quiet for a moment. “Get some rest. Actual rest, not playing with these two. I’m just playing Animal Crossing, so let me know if you need anything.”

“Very well, Tomura.” Kurogiri sat heavily on the bed. “Maybe I am just tired.”

Izuku helped him take his shoes off, grabbed him a pair of sleep pants, and popped into the bathroom to change. Toga was lounging on the couch when he came out.

Tomura waved him over. “He’s had an episode like this before. He’ll be down for a few days, it’s best just to give him his space.”

Izuku nodded. “I’ll see if he wants to sleep together and if not just nap on the couch.”

“Oh, yeah. Don’t forget to have breakfast here. That stupid hero’s not treating you right,” Tomura said going back to his game.

 

Shota was dragged across the sealed concrete and into a group of drug-addled dancers. Two of them fell on top of him as the shadow released him. He lifted his head – not bothering to try standing or even dislodging the pair on his back – and glared at the villains. They were already gone.

As he stood, one of the group snapped, “What the hell, man!”

Shota staggered to his feet. He surveyed the crowd before making his way around the edge of the dance floor. He leaned against the base of the DJ booth waiting for Hizashi. He hoped his phone would still be there. Or maybe they took it and he could track their location.

He kept his mind busy as he waited. Eighty percent of lipstick samples yielded DNA. They could use that to identify the blue-haired girl. There was a chance that he’d get fingerprints off his phone if they found it. A quick glance around told him that there were no internal security cameras. The corner was too dark to see into from the door, the bar, or the DJ booth.

Shota ignored the fact that he was shaking. He ignored the echoes of the warp gate user’s words. We’re just here to have fun. He ignored the lingering feeling of Stray’s shadow wrapped around him. Talk dirty to me, hero. Kurogiri’s hands running down his chest, squeezing his wrists. Show me your heart. The girl’s kisses. Gorgeous. The questions raised by Stray’s insistence that they not go too far, as if that line hadn’t already been crossed. And leave you begging for more, hero.

“Ooh, someone had fun!” Hizashi said as he exited the booth. He gasped as his brain caught up with his mouth. “What happened?!”

“Get them off,” he begged. He gestured with the cuffs.

Hizashi immediately fished his pocketknife out. It was a gift from Shota when they first tried dating in high school.  The measurements on the handle had worn off ages ago, but it took standard utility knife blades and the finger loop grip let him use it like a stim toy. He cut the plastic zip cuff and folded the blade as Shota all but collapsed in his arms.

“Hey, it’s okay, now. I got you,” Hizashi said as he practically dragged Shota to the back.

“Sorry,” he said numbly.

“Nope. It’s not your turn to be sorry. Bad guys gotta be sorry now, babe.” He flashed his ID at a bouncer as they entered the break room.

“I was useless.”

“I doubt that.” Hizashi reached for the scarf still tied about Shota’s neck. Almost in slow motion, Shota grabbed at Hizashi’s wrist. “You survived. That’s a start.” Hizashi dumped the scarf into a paper bag. He would have preferred a ziplock but it was what was available. 

Disassociating was familiar enough that Shota could tell he was doing it. He felt disconnected and floaty; like he was a passenger. And then, he was just thinking about riding around in Hizashi’s car all night, like they did as kids. The gentle vibration of the road, the dull roar of the engine, the smell of fried food.

“Earth to Sho~” Hizashi was tugging at his sleeves.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, no big.” Hizashi rested his hand on Shota’s forehead. “Just trying to figure out if you were drugged. I called it in, but if you need to go to the hospital…”

“My phone. We need to look for my phone!” Shota started to head back to the club.

“Hey, no. Babe. It can wait. Just stay here, with me.” Hizashi pulled him to a chair. “I’ll go look for it when the officers get here, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I want you to stay with me.” Shota pulled him down to his level. Gorgeous. He ran his fingers over Hizashi’s bare chest. Show me your heart. “It was Stray.”

Hizashi paled so rapidly that Shota grabbed him by the waist in case he fell. He pulled him into his lap automatically. Hizashi kissed him, slowly and sensually. For a moment, Shota thought he might break apart right there, but his body knew this one. He leaned into the kiss, desperately. He wrapped his arms around his love. He breathed in the smell of leather and hair spray, and drank in the flavor of a too-sweet energy drink and ginger gum. Safety. Home. Love.

 

“Hey,” was said softly from the door. Izuku was sure it wasn’t the first time. “Hey,” Tomura repeated.

“Mmh,” Izuku asked.

“It’s four, Toga and I made some rice, and rolled omelets. It’s not much…”

“You guys are the best.” Izuku stretched, unwinding his shadow from Kurogiri. “I slept a long time, huh?”

“Like three hours,” Tomura agreed softly.

“I’m awake,” Kurogiri said. “You don’t have to whisper.”

“Sorry,” both boys said.

Kurogiri chuckled. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“Here,” Toga said coming into the room, “I dished both of you up.” She had used the cat and rabbit from the plate set they’d picked out together.

“You are perfect,” Kurogiri said taking his plate. “Tomura, I’m sorry I worried you.”

“I wasn’t worried,” he huffed. “It’s not like you were injured. Anyway, when you feel up to it put this party popper on All Might’s door. I know it’s lame. Maybe we should wait.”

“It’s about little things that add up, Tomura. It’s not lame. It’s funny.”

“This rice is very good. What’s in it?” Kurogiri asked.

“Uh, I mixed in a couple of instant noodle flavor packs.”

“Those are basically powdered bullion. Good job.”

Tomura beamed under the praise. “Heh. Thanks.”

Chapter 41: Internships Day Three

Shinso had calculated everything last night. He’d boiled the eggs before going to bed. He’d turned Siren’s alarm off when they were done. Now he was up after two hours of sleep to make a mountain of egg salad and crispy chicken sandwiches, spam onigirazu, and rice balls.

“Star-chan doesn’t like tomatoes,” Siren said as she staggered into the kitchen of her agency.

Shinso pointed to a paper bag with a star on it. “Two different things in this one,” he pointed to another bag, “Aoi, I think. Genki gets a sandwich and a rice ball. Soy jerky for Hideko. Dried fish flakes for the sisters.  Liquids only for that dancer. I don’t know if Yubi-chan and Zinan-kun get anything special today.” The bags were marked with crude renderings of their contents. “Otherwise I think I got it right.”

“I appreciate the effort, kid. But don’t ever fuck with my alarm again.”

“You need sleep.”

“It’s fine.”

“How are you planning to help these people if you work yourself to death?” Shinso asked.

“I can handle it!” she snapped. Then she went slack.

“Go back to bed,” he commanded. “Sleep.”

 

Yagi looked blurrily at the digital clock beside his futon. The alarm beeped, gradually increasing in urgency. He didn’t want to get up, but the newspaper wouldn’t last long on the stoop. Yagi heaved himself off of the floor – at least there wasn’t a late-night ding-dong-ditch – and checked his door for cling film. Finding none, he opened the door. A sudden pop made Yagi jump. He stumbled back and thanked his lucky stars he had put his shoes under the table. He had a bruise on his tailbone from yesterday.

Yagi stared at the ends of the little party popper. Thankfully, there wasn’t any confetti to clean up. It looked like it was secured with the same kind of duct tape as yesterday. How did they get that in here? he wondered as he blinked owlishly at the tape. He scooped up his newspaper and shut the door. He examined the lock from the outside, but there were no signs that it had been picked.

He shook his head, went back inside, and took his pills with the rest of his orange juice.

 

Iida had woken up early, his nerves on edge. Running and leaping, dodging over and around dumpsters and trashcans as he careened through winding back alleys was doing wonders to calm his nerves. Soon enough he’d worked up quite the sweat, and an appetite. Stopping in a quaint, little coffee shop, he picked up breakfast for himself and Manual; as well as an orange juice to drink on the way back to the agency.

 

Shota was still asleep. Hizashi agonized over getting up or not, but eventually, his bladder decided for him. He eased his arm out from under Shota’s neck.

He was still red in some patches from scrubbing too much in the shower. Hizashi had pushed his hands away and blown a raspberry on his neck to get him to stop. It was a very different sensation than kissing, biting, or nuzzling and had shocked Shota out of his head, at least for a while.

Returning to the bedroom, Hizashi contemplated making breakfast. He was only vaguely hungry, but they were both known for skipping meals during an episode and last night had been a doozy. But he also didn’t want Shota to wake up alone.

“Come back to bed, Zashi,” Shota murmured. “We can get McDonalds.”

“Oh, Sho. Normally I’d long to hear those words, but…”

“You feel guilty about last night and wanna spoil me?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have been there if not for me.”

“Zashi, I love you. Come hold me. I know we should eat, but all I want is to feel you.”

“I’ll cook when you’re ready to get up.”

Shota hummed. “Order out. Then we can stay in bed all day.”

“McDonald's does deliver.”

“Get me an apple pie,” he said, his voice muffled by the blanket.

 

He stumbled blurrily into the kitchen. He would have preferred to sleep in considering the late night they’d had on the mountain, but after years of rigorous training, he just couldn’t sleep past sunrise. The scent of coffee and grilled fish lured him out of bed.

Shoto blinked at the picture before him. Bonfire was in civilian attire, a brown smock apron over loose fitting jeans and a light sweater. Four plates sat in front of her on the counter, each with a piece of grilled salted mackerel, some pickled vegetables, and a bowl of sliced fruit. Pressed between her hands, sizzling slightly, were three gyoza. She set them on a plate and grabbed three more.

“Oh god!” She almost dropped the dumplings when she spotted him. “Please don’t tell them I cook like this!”

He stepped into the kitchen. “I won’t, it's okay.” Shoto kept his voice low and his tone even.

“It’s just, I hate cooking, but we trade days, because that’s fair, and I don’t like washing dishes either, and they both clean as they go, so they’re not leaving a mess, which is great, but then I’d feel bad leaving a mess, and this is just easier,” Bonfire babbled. “They’d never let me live it down.” She plated the gyoza in her hands.

Shoto smiled softly. “Show me how you do that. I tried to defrost a chicken once for my sister and ended up burning it.”

“Put a little oil on your hand,” Bonfire instructed. “Now, heat it up just like you would a pan.”

He looked at her a little dully.

“You don’t know how to cook,” she guessed. “Well, you can help me with dinner then, too. Heat your hand slowly; keep the temperature as even as you can.”

“Hey Bonbon! Is breakfast ready yet?” Solstice’s jovial voice boomed.

The pair in the kitchen flinched. She was standing in the doorway.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“I don’t care that you cheat a little making breakfast. Hell, Bonbon, I reheat leftovers most of the time, and Yeti makes microwave foods or gets takeout.”

“You don’t think it’s unsanitary?”

“Ha, I know how hot you are, Bonbon.” She strode over and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Don’t let the intern slow you down too much, the fish’ll get cold.”

“It’s good training for him,” Snowfall said as she bounced in and claimed one of the completed plates; a dusting of snow falling on Solstice the whole time.

“Snow, please not in the house!”

Shoto smiled at their antics.

 

“You could make some money with your singing,” Shinso commented, handing Siren a sandwich.

“You talked to Zen.” She glared at the sandwich as if it had personally offended her, and not him.

“Not really,” he replied. “He was talking to Yubi-chan, and she was telling him to shut up.”

“He’s wrong. I can’t… I just can’t.” She took the sandwich he was still dutifully holding out.

“Depends on what you can’t. If you didn’t use your quirk last night, you could do things digitally. Make a YouTube channel, get a Patreon account. I’m not saying you could get rich, but a little extra cash would do you some good. And it’s not like I don’t know the food thing is illegal. I doubt you even have a food handler’s card. But I mean, even if it just takes some stress off of you. Buy prepackaged stuff so you can get six hours instead of four, once in a while. Plus, they need other things, too; like socks, shoes, coats, pads, sunscreen, pet food, and drugstore gift cards. You could handle a few music videos, right? Record them here, not at the studio, not with Zen. One a month. Use your phone, like it’s just a long Tiktok.”

“Sounds lame.” Siren bit into her sandwich.

“The secret to being cool is not caring what anyone else thinks. Once you master that, everything you do is cool.”

“How dare you use my own spells against me,” She replied with a smile.

 

Izuku had been prepared for more training, tedious paperwork, or a long patrol when he’d returned to the agency. He was not prepared for that patrol to be just him and Nighteye. The weight of a bag of ten-pound seals at his hip was going to take some getting used to.

 

Fukami appreciated Croc never leaning over her, or coming into her personal space if he needed something. He would always ask her to move or hand him things. As he helped her fill out the incident report about yesterday’s attack, he sat across from her at the boat’s small dining table.

His tail swished lazily back and forth on the floor, never knocking into the cabinets, the table leg, or her tentacles. “Hell, kid, I think you got this.”

“I do, too.”

“Let me know when you’re done, I’ll read over it, and we can go on patrol.” He stood, shucked his sweat pants – revealing his hero costume underneath – and tossed them into the laundry basket. “I’ll be up top getting some sun.”

 

Manual had thanked him for the food and coffee. He had been shown how to debrief the police and file a proper report after the incident yesterday. Today Manual was having him look up what rehabilitation programs were available to the villain.

It irritated Iida for a reason he could not quite grasp, but Manual said it was an important part of the process. His brother had never mentioned it. He’d have to ask him about it later.

 

Bakugo had little in the way of patients to begin with and shepherding toddlers around did not improve this. With the smallest one stored safely on his shoulders where it couldn’t slow the group up, he stomped out on the tour.

“Jellyfish are invertebrates.” He glanced up at the kid. “That means they don’t have any backbone. Wanna know what they do have?”

“Yeah,” the kids chorused.

“Microscopic barbed stingers full of venom. At best touching their tentacles hurts, some of them are so toxic they could paralyze and digest Gang Orca!”

“Wow!”

 

The barn was unpainted and made of pine. It was one story with a tall sloped roof. The tiles were old and due to be replaced but there weren’t any leaks. A few other people were milling about, mostly workers.

Ariyama-chan was wearing a pair of pale blue jeans, a yellow flower print blouse, and sensible flats. Her antennae twitched as they approached the barn. “So why did you say I need to wear pants?”

“How experienced are you with horses?” Kato asked. His plain jeans and light tee shirt were as easy to wear as they were nondescript.

“Zero,” she replied. “Zero experience with horses.”

“Okay, well,” he said awkwardly, “my family boards a pair of horses here, and I thought we could go for a ride. Guess I'll have to teach you how. It’s not that hard. I mean the basics are easy enough, and we’ll stay by the barn.”

“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly. 

He led her into the barn and over to a pair of horses in the middle of the row of stalls. The first was rose gray with a blonde mane and the second was dark brown with black socks and mane. “This is Juliet Traveler and Marquis DeWinter, or Mark and Julie.”

“They're gorgeous.”

“You, too,” he said grabbing a lead rope; a slight blush creeping over his cheeks. Kato saddled the horses; giving a running commentary on what he was doing and why.

“I’m a little intimidated.”

“That’s understandable,” he replied. “They’re big animals. Don’t get on if you’re scared. Don’t let anyone bully you into it. Horses are sensitive to their rider’s emotions. If you’re agitated, they’ll be agitated.”

“So what do we do?”

“We can just hang out with them. I’ll grab a couple of brushes. It might take some time for you to get used to them, but they’re sweet horses. Here, offer Julie a molasses cookie. Hold your hand flat.”

The dark brown horse took the treat gently, and Ariyama-chan giggled. They spent half an hour brushing the horses.

“Right, just let me put them back and we can head to the clubhouse for lunch.”

“Yeah. This is fun, Kato-kun.”

He smiled.

 

“Okay, now that we’re warmed up, let me see you hit those targets,” Bonfire instructed, pointing down the range to a series of cheap metal bull’s-eyes. “Just the centers.”

Shoto took a deep breath and released it slowly. A gout of flame shot out of his left hand.

“Oh god, stop!” Bonfire waved her hands franticly. “When was the last time you got lessons on how to use your quirk?”

“My old man trained me every day before I started Yuuei.”

“I see. What did he focus on?”

“Endurance and power, when he wasn’t trying to convince me to use my fire.”

“Like any other part of your body, your quirk will be affected by your mood. People tend to punch harder, but less accurately when they’re angry,” she explained. “We need to work on your control. Fire and ice are very different. Fire is smooth and flowing. Remember how you made that heart at the Sports Festival? Like that. Calm and controlled.”

“Passion can fuel you more sustainably than anger too,” Solstice piped up. “If you feel like you’re lacking oomph, think of that cute boyfriend of yours.”

“We just started dating.”

“Well duh, you’re kids.”

“Sol, I appreciate the help, but I was thinking more breathing exercises and relaxation techniques. Don’t get me wrong, Frost, whatever works for you is good, but I think I’ll start you on the basics.” She smiled as she brought her hands up in a heart shape. Bonfire turned to the target, thin wisps of yellow-orange flames raced over her body from her hands. Her short hair seemed to glow and float. A single heart-shaped burst of flames left her hands and struck the target. “Now you try.”

 

Glidar was hunched over the precinct computer going over the gecko’s criminal record. “A few B-and-Es, some possession of stolen property, one domestic, but that was apparently with his folks at fifteen, his dad pressed charges and he was tried as an adult. Looks like a good candidate for rehabilitation. So here’s how you file a recommendation.”

“Is that necessary?” Asuka asked.

“It’s not required by law, but, yeah, it’s necessary. He isn’t really rescued if he’ll be back out on the side of a building in six months.”

“I see,” Asuka nodded. As sometimes happened when he was upset, excited, or bored, he continued to bounce. “So you have a rapport with the prosecutors, and the people that run the programs?”

“Yeah, I try to. Flyers and climbers pose their own unique set of challenges, but they also hone valuable skills if you can get them the help they need to use them right.”

              

“Okay, girls,” Uwabami began. She had a few items of clothing and other things on the counter. “I’m primarily a rescue hero, and what they don’t tell you is that means a lot of sudden travel, so today I’m going teach you how to pack a go-bag. First, you’ll need the right bag. Carry-on is typically limited to twenty-two by fourteen by nine inches, and a backpack is easiest to carry. Identification and money are the first concerns. Pack a copy of your driver’s and hero licenses, a debit or credit card, and at least ten thousand yen.” She put everything in a small wallet and slid it in an outer pocket.

“Do you really need that much cash?” Yaoyorozu asked.

“Absolutely, some rescues occur in very rural places and they might only take cash, or the electricity might be down,” she explained. “Next, spare phone, spare costume. Then some civilian clothes: shoes, three pairs of socks, five pairs of underwear, one or two bras, two pairs of pants – absolutely pants not skirts –, a sweater or jacket, two tops long or short sleeve – I do one of each –, and pajamas.” She put the clothes in the bag, rolling them tightly to save space. “Also, pick cotton and other natural fibers. They tend to hold up better against wrinkling.”

Kendo piped up, “That really doesn’t seem to be your style.”

“Layers in the cold, tie the tee like a crop top in the heat, and always carry oversized sunglasses,” Uwabami said sagely. “Lastly, travel-sized toiletries: toothbrush, toothpaste, two-in-one, soap, hand sanitizer, feminine products, and for the love of all things holy sunscreen.”

Yaoyorozu was scribbling notes in her notebook. This was surprisingly practical, and she wasn’t about to let this knowledge slip away.

“Additionally, if you have room, pack a reusable water bottle, something for entertainment that does not take batteries, and headphones.” She put the rest into zip-lock bags before packing them. “Now you’re good to go!”

              

Once in the water, Fukami was amazed at the sheer number of aquatic-type mutations that simply ignored the laws about not using their quirks in public and swam instead of taking the ferry. There were only one or two oxygen tanks for every couple of dozen people. They followed the commuter’s path from one side of the harbor to the other and back. Croc’s mere predatory presence stopped two minor scuffles, and they relocated a few crab pods away from the swimmers.

While most of the harbor had a sandy bottom, there was a reef that wrapped around the north side, and next to that, an old ship had been sunk to expand it. On the return trip, he took her through it, pointing out some graffiti and the home of a moray eel.

As they emerged onto the boat, Croc asked, “Do you wanna hit a sushi joint for lunch?”

“That would be nice, but I burned a lot of energy. We might want to pick something more substantial.”

“I know the perfect place,” he told her, drying off.

 

Minoru was roused after only a few hours of sleep. He was shuttled into the bathroom and his costume was thrown in after him. He took a healthy poop and then washed his hands and face. He put his costume on and joined the heroes in the living room. “It’s too early.”

“It’s late, actually. Yuuei should start you kids with a professional image consultation. You’ve been using this trash costume for two months now; long enough to get attached to it despite its glaring flaws.”

“What's wrong with it?” He asked, offended.

“The oversized boots, gloves, and diaper make you look scrawny. The diaper makes you look weak and like a weirdo. That cape will get you killed. And the overall appearance is underwhelming,” Wildfire dressed him down. “Now, what type of hero do you want to be? Why do you want to be a hero?”

After a moment of hesitation, he said, “I want to be a hero so girls will like me.”

The girls tittered and Wildfire ran his hand down his face. “Kid. Girls will like you if you're likable, being a hero won't help. Okay. Okay. You wanna be a heartthrob? Fine. You look like a cross between a bowl of grapes and a baby. You fail at the heartthrob look but we can fix you.”

“Mineta, what is your favorite part of your costume?” Glam asked.

“The palms of my gloves are coated with a chemical that makes my hair not stick to them.”

“Functional, good,” Wildfire said. He pulled out a sketchbook. “What do you think about slimmer boots and gloves, and turning the diaper/bowl into harem pants?”

“That sounds okay. I’ve just always been told that I would never look cool, so it’s better to embrace the silly.”

“Kid,” Wildfire said solemnly. “No one is born cool. No height, weight, or body plan makes you cool. Confidence makes you cool. Once you have that, everything you do is cool.”

“How do I learn to be confident?”

“Well, it can be hard to do. It’s not a bullet-point list. You have to build yourself up. Minimize what you don’t like about yourself, and maximize what you do like. Importantly, be authentic to you. So, do you like any part of this look?”

“I like the colors,” he said timidly.

“That’s good. The two contrasting colors; a deep royal purple and a joyful yellow. Simple but powerful. You don’t have any support gear. We’ll give you a utility belt, under armor, and a slingshot, at least.”

“Slingshot?”

“You throw your hair, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“This will give you more range.” He smiled. “Now, the fresh picked hero: Grape Juice? Really?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Fresh picked works when you're a newbie, but not when you’re thirty,” Glitz said.

“Grape Juice conjures the image of you being squished, stomped on, defeated,” Razzle added. “You are the little grape.”

“What would you suggest?”

“You want to be cool?” Wildfire asked. “Something that gives you confidence. How about Vineyard? It still holds the grape connection but it’s triumphant, stable, and stylish. It conjures ideas of strength and success in the face of adversity.”

Minoru nodded. “That’s cool.”

With a nod, Wildfire opened a cabinet to reveal a sewing station and tons of fabric. “Now, let’s make you cool.” He spent hours measuring, sewing, and altering Minoru’s costume.

 

Bakugo sifted through the wrappers from the massive pile in the bullpen. He did not find the two burgers that should have been waiting for him and Gang Orca. “Who the fuck –”

“Language,” Orca snapped.

“Whom the –”

“No,” Orca cut him off. “They misordered. There’s no fishwich on the receipt. It’s not a big deal. We’re going out, kid.”

“Fine, whatever.” Bakugo followed him to the motor pool.

 

Izuku redistributed the weight of the seals for the tenth time in an hour. “This is just going to require a costume alteration.”

“Don’t let it distract you,” Nighteye instructed.

“I’m trying to keep it from throwing my off balance.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Nighteye looked at his watch. “We’re going to be late to lunch.”

“Didn’t know we had a schedule,” Izuku replied, transferring the seals to the pockets of his hoodie. “Where?”

“The Umbrella Bistro. It’s ten blocks down and sixteen over. We need to be there in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s easy,” Izuku said. He stepped into an alley and bounced up the fire escape. Nighteye was forced to follow as he ran over rooftops, leaped the gaps between buildings, and only hit ground level to cross the streets. Going down or across based on which light was green. For the first few blocks, Nighteye shouted at him, but soon he was forced to save his breath.

He skidded to a stop in front of the bistro. Nighteye plowed into him, moving him several steps and pushing him into the wall of the shop next door. He was gasping and panting too much to yell at Izuku.

“If we go in now, we can beat Centipeder and Bubble Girl,” he said cheekily, pointing down the street.

Nighteye pulled him into the Bistro and smoothed his suit. Finding a table, he regulated his breathing and put on a bored expression.

 

The setting sun cast a golden light over the city. Part of Tenya hated that it was beautiful. It should be somber and bleak to match his mood. Not a sparkling spring evening filled with fresh crisp air and happily chattering voices.

“We’ll patrol Kyoto today too. Sorry, this is so monotonous.”

“No, it’s better this way,” Tenya lied. A fight might have distracted him from his roiling anger and seething hate. As it festered in his gut, Tenya yearned to put an end to the Hero Killer. He studied each alleyway that they passed for any sign of the fiend.

A flash of red caught his eye. Tenya stopped to get a better look. He couldn’t risk a wild goose chase; he would not get a second chance. He saw the long trailing scarf as it whipped around a corner.

He took two running steps before activating his quirk at the mouth of the alley. After passing a dumpster, he stepped up the wall, ignored the shouts of Manual, and leaped over the tall fence separating this entrance from the rest of the alley. Tenya followed the sounds of a scuffle further into the dim and grimy passage.

 

The terrifying feeling of a sudden free fall was beginning to lose its luster, as Fumikage was more weary than anything else. Dark Shadow gripped him tightly and pulled against gravity. Finally, after trying all evening, and well into the night yesterday, they pulled up under their own power.

“Fumi! Fumi, we’re flying!”

They managed a short trip to the roof across the street. They landed heavily; Dark Shadow put his hands down to keep Fumikage from tumbling over.

Hawks laughed and applauded them. “Go job, Tsuku-kun! Hey, let’s get something to eat. This place has great fried chicken.” Hawks took to the air again. “You can tell me what’s like at Yuuei.”

Fumikage nodded in agreement, thankful for the upcoming break.

 

Tenya did not stop or even slow to take in the scene. He processed only the bare minimum of information. Stain had his next victim pinned to the wall and his sword drawn. As he ran in to deliver a devastating kick to dislodge Stain, he saw the man’s eyes whip in his direction.

Not only did Stain block the attack with ease, he was completely unfazed. He had swung his sword out as if carelessly batting a fly. Tenya was sent sprawling, his helmet and glasses flying off in the impact. “A child wearing a suit. Who’re you?” Stain paused. “Run. Run away from here. This is not a place for children.”

Tenya pulled himself to his knees. “You’re carrying blades all over your body, and you wear a blood-red scarf. You must be the Hero Killer Stain. It’s you right? I’ve been looking for you. I didn’t think I’d find you so soon. I am –”

His monologue cut off as Stain’s sword whipped at his face. The tip was close enough to slice off his nose.

“Your eyes are searing with vengeance,” Stain told him. “Be careful what you say next. If need be even someone your age can be my target.”

“Are you saying that I’m not even a threat to you?” His glove creaked as he clenched his fist. “You listen to me criminal,” Tenya began as he slowly rose to his feet, “I am the brother of an incredible hero who you attacked. He’s the best older brother that anyone could hope for. I have come to stop you because he can’t anymore. You’re going to remember my name for as long as you live. I am Ingenium! And I will defeat you. That I promise!”

“So be it. Die.”

“Tenya!” Manual’s shouts could be heard as he backtracked and looked into alleys desperately searching for his charge. “Tenya!”

Tenya activated his quirk for a super-powered front kick. “For Tensei!”

Stain flipped up and over Tenya. He kicked his shoulder with his spiked boot, blood splattering the ground before he dropped his full weight onto Tenya’s back. “You’re a weakling. Just like he was.” Stain flipped his sword around and stabbed it into the other shoulder. “You aren’t heroes. You have no right to be called that. Both of you are nothing but fakes. Ingenium was climbing to the top on a pile of secrets and lies!”

“Shut up, villain. My brother would never lie! He’s a good man!” he managed to groan out in retort. “You damaged his spine and paralyzed him from the waist down. He’s never gonna be able to work as a pro hero again. My brother was incredible; a caring person who saved many lives. Someone people looked up to. You had no right to take that away from him. He is my hero. My older brother inspired my dream that one day I could be a pro too. I won’t forgive you. I’ll kill you!”

Stain chuckled. “Take a look at this.” He stooped down and shoved a photo of a young Tensie and an older woman in his face. “Your ‘brother’ is actually your real father. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree; only caring about your own selfish desires. Shouldn’t you be worried about saving that guy?” Stain pointed at the pro hero slumped helplessly against the wall. “You were so busy with your grudge that you forgot about him. You plan on using your quirk only for yourself. You’re completely blinded by a selfish desire for revenge. You’re about as far away from being a hero as I can imagine.” Stain pulled his sword out of Tenya’s shoulder and licked the blood from it. “That’s why you die tonight.”

Fear replaced rage as the lunatic stood over him ranting.

“Run,” the hero repeated weakly, blood pooling around him until the word became mumbles and finally dreadful silence.

Tenya couldn’t run. He couldn’t move. His arm throbbed. He gritted his teeth.

Stain whipped his blade around once more. “Good bye child. May your death bring about a better world.”

“No please not like this,” Tenya begged. “Say whatever you want to about me, you’re still just a criminal who hurt my brother.”

Tenya saw Stain move, saw him plunge the sword down. He had expected a sharp pain, not heat. It felt like magma was flooding his lungs. The rest of his body was getting colder. His head felt light. He could barely keep his eyes open. The edges of his vision were fading to black.

How cruel to let good men die and madmen roam free, he thought as he heard Stain’s footsteps fade into the night. And crueler still was the hope that blossomed in his chest as the white boots of his mentor came into view; Manual’s name drowning in Tenya’s blood as he tried to call out, to cough, to dislodge some of the heat and weight in his lungs so he could breathe.

“Tenya!” His voice was so distant, yet he was cradling Tenya’s head. “Just hold on, please. Help is on the way. Everything will be fine. Just hold on.”

He wanted to tell him he knew that. Manual was here now, it was going to be fine. He tried to speak again. It sounded garbled and muffled to his own ears, but he hoped Manual understood. He hoped his brother understood. “I’m sorry.”

Chapter 42: Stain

Manual held Tenya while he bled out; his hands pressed tight to the wound. A geyser of water from a nearby drainpipe marked their location for other heroes. “Stay with me. Stay with me,” he whispered. The blood pooling around them seeped into his boots; it stained his pants. The blood Tenya was aspirating stained his shirt and splattered his face as the boy tried to apologize for running off until no more breath came.

“No, no, no!” Manual laid Tenya down on the cold, cracked asphalt. The chest plate was in the way. His field knife made quick work of the spandex underlayer, but he had to lift Tenya again to pull the back plate up. He cursed the decorative exhaust pipes that wrapped around his middle. Manual began chest compressions, and Tenya’s sternum cracked easily. “Stay with me. Stay with me. Tenya, come back.”

The dim off-white light of the alley was engulfed in a harsh red light that caused the shadows to deepen. The blood looked black. The footsteps of officers and paramedics echoed off the walls. Manual was pulled off of Tenya. “Clear!”

“What happened?” the officer who pulled him asked.

“Stain,” was all he could manage. His hand closed around a stiff rectangular piece of trash. Numbly, he looked at it. It was a photo of either Tenya or a younger Tensei in a compromising position. “It was Stain.”

“Come on, let’s get you in the ambulance.” The officer helped him to his feet. “Let the EMTs do their work.”

“We were patrolling,” he started. The officer took notes as Manual recounted the last ten minutes.

When the EMTs loaded Tenya and the other pro into the ambulance, they were both covered with sheets. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he made room for the bodies.

 

Endeavor glared at the reporters, gathered like vultures around him and his sidekicks as he deployed teams throughout Hosu. “Stay together. If I find out you broke visual for even two seconds, you’ll be fired. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Move out. Let’s catch this bastard.” Before he can kill more kids, he didn’t say.

“Endeavor!” one reporter had the gall to shout.

He ignored it. They didn’t have time. They had to catch this psychopath. It was one of Shoto’s classmates, for fuck’s sake.

Burnin’ smiled broadly at the reporter. “There will be a press conference later today. We’ll have more information for you then. Right now, we have a job to do.”

 

Shota still hadn’t gotten out of bed to do more than use the bathroom. Hizashi had called Nemuri over to be with him while he ran some errands and put in time at the radio station. “Come on, let’s go sit on the couch.”

“Nah,” the cocoon of blankets replied.

“I know it sucks. I know what you’re going through, Shota. I’m not asking you to be productive, or talk to me, or even stay awake. Just lie on the couch. I’ll put on something inoffensive, and we can relax until Hizashi gets home.”

“Nah, I’ll just turn on the radio in here and listen to Zashi when he comes on.”

“Okay. I won’t force you,” Nemuri said. She tuned the radio to Put Your Hands Up and settled next to him with a book.

“First, the USJ and now this. I feel so helpless.”

She waited to make sure he wasn’t going to say more. “We’ve all been there. I’m lucky to have this quirk; I can’t tell you how many times it’s saved me. But you did everything you could. You survived, you got away.”

“I don’t even know how,” he complained. “One minute I can’t move between the two of them pinning me to the wall, and the next the warp gate is disassociating or something. And they hightailed it out of there. So, no, I didn’t get away.”

“That’s not how Hizashi tells it. You elbowed the warp gate, uncovered your eyes, and nearly canceled his quirk before they fled.”

“Nearly.”

“It’s not your fault, Shota.”

“I’m never going anywhere without my scarf.”

Nemuri mulled the statement over, genuinely considering it. “Yeah, okay. It’s not so bulky you couldn’t hide it under your shirt if need be.”

“Do,” his voice was barely a whisper, “do you think Zashi will… would he – never mind, it’s stupid.”

“Be that as it may, and it is, your trauma brain isn’t going to let the thought go. Yes, he still loves you. No, he won’t think you’re weak, useless, or damaged. He won’t be repulsed by the fact that someone else touched you. He will be gentle, tender, and careful with you.”

“He won’t just stay because he feels obligated now, will he?”

“No. He loves you. You’re the one person who remains true for.” She gently caressed the part of the blanket that covered his hair. “He’s not going to leave just because things are hard.”

“But that’s what we always do. Hook up, date awhile, then split up after something bad happens.”

“That was one time, in high school. College was different. You were in two different places in your lives.”

“Can you get me a glass of water?”

“And your pills?”

The cocoon nodded. “On the bathroom counter.” He pulled the blanket down as she left the room. “I’m sorry I was mean to Tensei. He’s a good person. He doesn’t deserve what happened.”

“None of us do, Sho. Not him, not you, not me. Things just happen.”

“Sucks.”

“Yeah.”

              

The halls of the hospital were deserted, especially in the basement. “Inui-san,” Manual’s voice broke as he spoke, “it-it’s Tenya, he, oh god. He’s been killed.”

“Take a breath, Mizushima,” Ryo said softly. “I’ll call his family. What hospital –”

Manual broke down in tears, crumpling the photo in his hand. “It’s my fault. I lost sight of him. I-I, I’m sorry.”

“I understand it feels that way, but Masaki-kun, you didn’t kill him, and you didn’t approve his internship.”

              

“Distal, middle, and proximal phalanges,” Izuku recited as Kurogiri ran his finger down the top of each toe. Kurogiri was kneeling on the foot of the bed facing Izuku. Applying slightly more pressure, he continued with the muscles. “Adductor hallucis, flexor hallucis brevis, flexor minimi brevis.”

Izuku spread, flexed, and wiggled his toes.

“Um, have you had time to examine those feelings?” Kurogiri asked hesitantly as he ran his finger down the bones in Izuku’s foot.

“First through fifth metatarsal bones,” he said instead of answering.

Kurogiri took it as a sign to drop the subject for the time being. He finished the rest of the foot before switching to the other. Each ankle was flexed and rotated before moving up Izuku’s legs.

“Fibia, tibia, patella.” A kiss was placed on each kneecap. “Soleus, gastrocnemius, sartorius.” Izuku was becoming more and more breathless as Kurogiri’s hands went higher. “Femur, Plantaris,” Izuku’s leg twitched as the back of his knee was caressed. “Semimembranosus, gracillis, biceps femoris, semitendinosus, adductor magnus.”

Kurogiri squeezed his butt, lightly raking his nails over the thin material of Izuku’s sleep pants.

He gave a soft moan before continuing. “Gluteus maximus, gluteus medius.” Swallowing, Izuku carded his hand through Kurogiri’s hair. “Kiss me.”

It was an order, a demand. Kurogiri leaned up close to Izuku. “Jumping ahead a bit, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Izuku replied, closing the distance. Their lips met and parted. The pair stared into each other’s eyes. Concern was etched on Izuku’s searching face. Kurogiri was difficult to read. The moment stretched on.

Finally, Kurogiri asked, “Are you … angry with me?”

Izuku frowned. “If I hadn’t grabbed your hand, what would you have done?”

“Defiantly ran my fingers along his waistband, maybe fiddled with his belt to see if that would get a reaction. I’d like to think I wouldn’t have gone below the belt, but I could have just as easily pushed you until you stopped me,” he confessed.

Izuku pressed his lips to Kurogiri’s again in another brief peck. “Is… is that something you’re into?”

“Pushing your boundaries? Or…?”

“Assaulting pro heroes.”

Kurogiri shrugged. “I haven’t been inclined to in the past. Something about him is different. He reminds me of something.”

“Something you want to touch.”

“I can’t deny wanting to examine it closer.” Kurogiri reached up and ran his fingers through Izuku’s hair. “But I put you and Himiko at risk for nothing. I held him, touched him, smelled his cologne. I have the same nagging feeling I did at the USJ.”

Izuku cocked his head. “Describe his cologne to me.”

Kurogiri’s eyes narrowed and wavered in confusion. “I don’t know. Light, fresh, almost soapy. Coconut, catmint, and maybe some kind of melon.”

“Sounds more like a shampoo, but he uses an unscented two-in-one; same thing with his aftershave. He’s an ambusher, and can’t have a perfume giving away his position.” Izuku was quiet for a moment. “So, I guess you got something out of it after all. You remember someone’s smell.”

“It wasn’t worth putting you at risk.”

“Make it up to me?”

“Anything you want.”

After a moment of hesitation, Izuku leaned forward and kissed him. Their lips brushed, softly, delicately, just long enough that Izuku could inhale the mist that surrounded, that was Kurogiri. He could feel the warmth of him as they parted, and the taste of him lingered as he wet his lips.

Izuku tangled his hand in Kurogiri’s hair and pulled him down on top of him. Heart racing, Izuku took a deep, fuzzy breath. His lips found Kurogiri’s again. Strong but nearly incorporeal arms wrapped around him as Izuku deepened the kiss. The heat, the weight, and the slight scent of sweat all aroused him. Izuku kissed him harder, deeper, with a fervent, urgent need. He eased his leg between Kurogiri’s thighs.

There was no sign of arousal in his lover, but a long moan reverberated in his chest. Kurogiri broke the kiss. Izuku clutched him desperately. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

The teen articulated his desires as best he could, “everything, nothing, this, you,” which is to say not very well at all.

Kurogiri chuckled. He nuzzled the crook of Izuku’s neck. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Izuku replied. He felt relieved saying it. A tightness in his chest had been released. A stiffness in his body was slowly being burned away by the warmth above him. “I do want this; hold me, kiss me. Breathe me in until you forget the smell of Eraserhead.”

“Gladly.” Kurogiri dipped his head down and traced his nose along the side of Izuku’s neck. Then he made his way to his ear with short, snuffling, ticklish breaths. “My jealous boy,” he whispered. He said it in the same half-reverent tone he used when he called Izuku pet names.

“Thought I was your good boy?”

“Oh, you are. My perfect, jealous boy. So sweet to me. So precious, my love. My delicious pet.” He licked the outer shell of Izuku’s ear. Beneath him, the boy shuddered, so he did it again. “Adorable.”

 

He could hear Tenya’s parents, their soft voices and muffled sobs like daggers in his heart. Manual moved stiffly to the door. He couldn’t bring himself to give them the photo. He stuffed it in his pocket. It was his fault. He braced for the accusation. He’d been responsible for their son’s safety. He’d failed.

Iida-san just held his wife as she cried.

Manual said nothing. What could he say?

“Where did we go wrong?” she asked.

“It’s not your fault.” Manual was shocked that it was his own voice. “I should have –”

The Iidas embraced him. “No, it, it’s Stain’s doing,” Iida-san told him.

 

Izuku was not warmly cocooned in bed. Izuku was not wrapped in Kurogiri’s loving embrace. Izuku was not being peppered with kisses and cuddled within an inch of his life. Instead, he was in his full regalia in the bar. And it was Stain’s fault. He would have been glaring daggers at the man, but he was busy watching the news footage.

Toga tried to lean into his space as he rewound the feed to listen to the reporter. “Not right now.”

“Are you mad at me?” she asked, taking his usual spot next to Tomura.

Tomura hid a grin by sipping his whisky. “Not at you.”

“Pro Hero Native tragically lost his life earlier tonight in Hosu. He has been confirmed as the eighteenth victim of the Hero Killer: Stain, alongside a nineteenth victim whose identity has yet to be released. The Normal Hero: Manual was the first on the scene. He is currently unavailable for comment.”

“You killed a student,” Tomura rasped when Izuku paused the feed again.

“He was unwor–”

“Can the rhetoric,” Izuku cut him off. “No matter how true it might be, no one will believe that a first-year student couldn’t be put back on the right path.” Izuku massaged his temples with one hand. “Making your message palatable to the masses is going to be damn near impossible, now.”

“Aw, poor Stainy is gonna get blamed, and it’s not even his fault. It’s not like he went out looking for the wanna-be-hero.”

“True,” Tomura said at length. “Looks like he’s useless to us now. Give him that list.” Tomura leaned over the bar to retrieve a slip of paper. “Here. Get started on that and murder any of them that don’t fit your ideal. As for the public side of things, what now?”

“Right! No sense in wasting a resource,” Izuku said with a nod. “We need to get out ahead of this. Leak the student’s identity. Do we have the ability to do that, or are we going to have to get creative?”

“We have a box of burner phones,” Tomura replied. “We could just call a couple of news stations.”

“Either you or Stain should make the calls,” Izuku assessed

“Make Stain do it, then. It was his fuck up. Besides, he’ll need the practice if he’s gonna be palatable to the masses. Right now, he’s like durian.”

“Give me an hour and he’ll be more like anchovies.”

Toga made a face at their analogies. “How are you gonna do that?”

“First, Stain, don’t answer any questions. You’re making a statement. Second, keep it brief; just enough to prove you’re you, and that Iida came at you.” He pulled out a pad of paper. “Tell me every good thing about Iida.”

“I’m not agreeing to this.”

Izuku stopped. “Why not?”

“It’s a trap.”

“Duh?” Izuku said. The atmosphere in the bar shifted; the air stilled, and the temperature dropped perceptibly. “We’re going to use your ideology to reach our goals. You have never been more expendable than you are at this moment. You have proven yourself a feral dog, biting anything that comes into your path. I’m disappointed, but not surprised. You lack focus and drive despite your convictions. You judge heroes passively, ignore underlying issues, and worst of all,” Izuku activated One for All, “you buy into All Might’s hypocrisy.”

Stain’s sword was at his throat before the word was fully out of his mouth.

Without turning away from the TV screen, Izuku grabbed the blade and shattered it.

Provoking him had been easy; intimidating him with this power was easier. The cold aura Stain was leeching into the room was replaced with the electric buzz of One for All and the oppressive weight of Izuku’s barely bridled rage.

“Awe, trying to ‘destroy what you hate’?” Tomura asked with a chuckle. He rested both hands on Stain’s shoulders, his pinkies up, his thumbs idly kneading at the tension there. Neither of them had seen him move from his spot at the bar, too focused on each other. “You don’t stand by your convictions, friend.”

Stain faltered. The hilt dropped.

“Good,” Izuku said evenly. “Now, you are going to work for us. Think of yourself as Tomura’s tutor.” He turned to look directly at Stain. “You will call the news station. You will make a brief statement about why you killed a literal child. You will tell them your manifesto in ten words or less. And you will stop going after no-name, barely more than a beat-cop slobs that are living paycheck to paycheck. Am I understood?”

Stain nodded. “Why use my ideology to help you reach your goals? You clearly hate it.”

“Sugar coating makes even the bitterest of pills easy to swallow.”

Tomura shoved a flip phone into Stain’s hands. “Get to it, friend.”

 

A warm hand was rubbing soothing circles on his back. The smell of bleach calming his knotted stomach and a mild ache in his knees, brought Shota back to himself enough to realize he couldn’t remember why he was hunched over the toilet bowl. He began to hum along with the soft singing he slowly realized was Hizashi.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Almost four. No sense in heading to the hospital, if they want to talk to us, they’ll make a trip to the school.”

Hospital? he thought sluggishly. Iida. Reality came crashing into him all at once. Tears pricked his eyes. His student. “I never should have let him go.”

“You aren’t the only one involved. Nezu, Ryo, and Manuel, all agreed. And Yuuei expects more of its students. We all thought he could handle it.”

“I failed my student.” Shota shifted off his knees to lie on the cool tile floor.

“We all did, Sho.” Hizashi continued to rub his back gently.

“Where's Nem?”

“She’s with Tensei.”

“Good. She's good with people.” 

 

The warp gate closed behind Stain, clipping a few threads of his red scarf.

“Why are you crying?” Tomura asked as Izuku buried his face in Kurogiri’s chest.

“He was a friend. I was teaching him free running. He’d offered to keep an eye on Kacchan,” was the muffled reply.

“Will this be a problem?” Sensei asked, his voice crackling out of the karaoke machine.

Izuku sobbed for a moment before pulling his head up and answering. “I’m more likely to put Stain in harm’s way. But if you’re worried for Tomura, there’s no need.” He snuggled back into Kurogiri. His shadow flickered between Tomura and Toga, checking the pair for injuries.

“I know what you need!” Tomura said, suddenly standing. “We’re going out.” He hopped the bar smoothly and peered at the shelves.

Those words made Izuku’s stomach knot. “Do we have to?”

“It’ll help, I promise,” he said as he grabbed a bottle of cheap whisky from behind Kurogiri.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Just a quick memorial,” he said with a grin. “Like flushing a goldfish or burying a hamster.”

              

The park was painted in bright yellow, orange, green, and purple, though most of the color was lost in the dark of night. Toga chose to perch on the head of the brontosaurus climbing structure, while Tomura was sitting on top of a rock pillar that made up one end of the wall surrounding the park; the silhouettes of various dinosaurs were barely visible on its rough cinderblocks. Kurogiri was leaning against the pole of the pterodactyl-themed swing set that Izuku was listlessly swinging on.

“Now what?” Toga asked.

“Now we say some kind, but ultimately empty, words about the dearly departed,” Tomura replied almost gleefully. Izuku got the impression, once again, that Tomura had never had friends or pets before. “I’ll go first: Tenya Iida was an earnest and thoughtful young man, taken from us before his time. The world is a darker, crueler place for his absence. Though I did not know him, the shadow of his loss will be felt by all.”

“Why do I think that’s from a video game?” Toga asked. Tomura just grinned at her. “Okay, my turn! Even though I never met Tenya-kun directly, I know he was a brave, committed young man who was cut down tragically before his life could truly begin. While we will all mourn the passing of this burgeoning hero, it will be most keenly felt by his loving family.”

Kurogiri cleared his throat. “That was surprisingly well said, both of you. I met Tenya Iida only once, briefly. He was selfless in the face of overwhelming odds, giving his all to try to bring aid to his classmates. He did not let hardship or injury detour him from his chosen path. And in that same vein, Tenya-kun sought recompense for his brother and found only the cold, unjust world.”

Izuku stopped his swing. He chuckled. “It’s weird, but I think I do feel a little better.”

“Your turn,” Tomura encouraged him. He hopped off his rock and gestured for Toga to come down as well.

“All right. I didn’t know Iida for long, but he was serious to a fault, studious above all else, and trying way too hard. I got to know him because Aizawa-sensei asked me to teach him parkour, to teach him some flexibility. At the start of our first lesson, he asked me why I was teaching him how to fall if the point was not to fall. I told him, we will always fall, the point is to not get hurt when we do. I wish he had taken that lesson to heart because he fell. I wish he had taken the lesson Hound Dog had given him to heart as well.” He looked up at his gathered friends. “What works?”

“Teamwork!” Toga cheered, Tomura smirked, and Kurogiri hugged him.

Tomura took a swig from the whisky and handed it to Izuku. “It will burn, but it will help.”

Cautiously, Izuku took a sip. Kurogiri took the bottle as he coughed. “That tastes awful, and I can feel it burning in my stomach.”

Toga took a drink and handed it back to Kurogiri, who drank and poured some out for Iida.

Chapter 43: Internships Day Four

Yagi looked blurrily at the digital clock beside his futon. He wondered what misfortune this morning would bring. Heaving his seven-foot-two-inch frame up off the floor, he lamented the lack of a Western-style bed. He prepared himself for the surprise at the door. Took a firm step forward and jumped back. The Tami mat felt normal to his bare foot, but there was a soft ripple of pops when he put his weight on it.

Upon lifting the mat, he found a sheet of bubble wrap under it. How did they get that there? He wondered as he blinked owlishly at the plastic sheet. Yagi retrieved his paper, and though he longed to crawl back in bed, he started his breakfast.

 

“Listen up!” Gang Orca barked. “There was an incident last night in Hosu. The Hero Killer: Stain claimed two more victims. One of them was an intern. I won’t have any of you running off half-cocked. We will not be caught with our pants down if that villain comes here. He tends to ambush lone heroes. You’ll patrol in groups of no less than four. You got that?”

“Yessir!” the sidekicks chorused.

Bakugo growled.

Gang Orca turned to address him. “I know this frustrates you. It pisses me off, too, but if you intend to lead your own team one day, this is an important lesson. Our priority is the safety of the citizens. Our next priority is the safety of the team. I field a lot of reformed criminals, and I run a rehabilitation program. Stain just dropped a manifesto to four major news outlets. He’s supposedly targeting ‘unworthy’ heroes. I’m guessing checkered pasts qualify my sidekicks.”

Bakugo looked out at the crowded bullpen. It was his fourth day, but he was already seeing passed the uniforms. Ebu could spin webs and had eight eyes, but she was sweet and bubbly to an almost annoying degree. Despite his Hyena’s Laugh quirk, Geta was the most serious person he’d met. Switcheroo, on the other hand, was too casual and would often use his quirk, Apport, to cause havoc. All three had criminal records. All three had endured his shitty attitude to teach him the correct, fastest, and best ways to fill out various incident reports.

“Fuck.”

“Indeed,” Gang Orca agreed. “Now, you will continue to abide by the rules I set down. You will not go off on your own. You will stay with me at all times,” he stared deep into Bakugo’s soul to ensure that he was going to be obeyed. At Bakugo’s silent nod, he sighed and explained, “The rumor is that the intern was a Yuuei student.”

Bakugo scrambled to his phone to text his friends. “Come on, it’s still early, you can’t have started training already.”

His simple ‘hey’ was replied to in agonizing, staggered fits.

Mina was fairly prompt. Saw the News. Already txt Kiri. Aok.

Sero and Kaminari replied ‘Hey!’ within seconds of each other.

Kirishima took longer but replied, Glad none of us were in Hosu.

Izuku was the last to reply. Bakugo almost sent him another text before he sent his reply. Need something, Kacchan? 

No, I added you by mistake.

Tsundere.

Fuck off, nerd.

Love you too, bro.

Bakugo scoffed. Don’t slack. You’ve got a lot of ground to cover.

Yeah, I’m keeping up.

“Are your friends safe?” Orca asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

 

Izuku stared at Nighteye as, instead of putting his phone away, he texted Shinso, Mie, Todoroki, and his mother. Bakugo’s simple ‘hey’ would work well enough.

“Take your time,” the pro said.

“I can multitask,” Izuku replied.

“Very well. I’ve sent Centipeder and Bubble Girl out on patrol. We’re going to work on your mastery of One for All. Activate it and show me what you’ve got!”

Izuku summoned up the erratic, crackling energy. It pulsed around him, straining his bones for a moment. Adrenaline coursed through him even as he exhaled slowly and envisioned the power flowing through his body. His heart thudded in his chest as he fought to control his breathing. His knees ached with the effort not to crumple in a heap.

As he tensed and relaxed his muscles, Izuku checked his phone. Mei had left him on read, and Shinso had replied with an odd series of sandwich emojis. His mother was likely not up yet, and he had no idea what Todoroki’s routine was for the week.

“I thought you could multitask,” Nighteye said, smirking.

Awash in the crackling green lightning, Izuku tensed his whole body, causing the energy to flow to his extremities. After a moment, he felt it distributed evenly over his body. There was still a residual ache in his bones, but he chalked that up to the initial strain.

“I am. Activating One for All while checking my phone. And without crushing it!” He set the phone down on the weight bench.

Nighteye frowned. “It’s not that com –” he stopped talking as Izuku moved.

Or, rather, as Izuku seemed to blink from across the room to right in front of him. The shock wave tossed the workout equipment and cracked the drywall. “Shit!” Whatever point he had was lost in his frantic scramble to his phone. “Phew. It’s fine!”

No, Nighteye thought, surveying the damage, his point was made loud and clear.

“Ugh! How does he do that without destroying everything?”

“That’s a good question.”

Izuku let One for All drop. “I’m gonna run this to my room real quick. Well, not that quick, but you understand.”

Nodding, Nighteye began righting the equipment. He had noticed mottled red and purple markings blossom on the exposed skin of Izuku’s arms and calves. This meant he would need the time to rethink the day’s training.

Nighteye’s mind raced. In order to be invisible to the human eye, an object needs to move at thirty-eight thousand, one hundred and forty-six miles per hour. Rather, it takes eighty milliseconds for the human eye to register change, so he moved at least fifteen feet in that time, or ten thousand, two hundred and twenty-seven miles per hour. While All Might’s official top speed was two thousand, eight hundred and seventy miles per hour, he was frequently reported as being too fast to see.

Izuku was back before he’d made any real progress, with neither the equipment nor the new training plan. The bruising was already yellowing around the edges. His movements were smooth and fluid. He moved quickly and had no trouble with even the heaviest equipment as he silently helped clear the mess.

“You have One for All activated?”

“Yeah, it tends to be better behaved if my healing is active first.” The jagged streaks of green energy seemed to follow the pattern of the bruises as it arced across his body.

“You hurt yourself on purpose.”

“Kinda? I mean, you wanna see what I can do? Other than run, jump, and punch with about a third of the force All Might is currently capable of, this is it.” The bruises faded to nothing as he spoke, but the green energy remained. “I can keep it active for a few hours like this, but then I’m wiped.”

“And your training so far has been what exactly?” Nighteye asked. He probably didn’t intend to sound snide.

“Control, speed, ranged attacks. I know it’s not much, but I’ve only had it for two weeks.” Izuku shook his head. “Gah. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I should have known this was pointless when Yagi-san told me he took to it on instinct. Maybe I should have taken up his old mentor’s offer.”

“And what offer was that?”

“An internship. I mean, I get the impression that he’s retired, but he helped train All Might, so he should know more about this stuff, right?”

Nighteye narrowed his eyes. “I’ve met Grand Torino a number of times. His methods are… You’ve seen how Toshinori is when he’s brought up.”

“Yeah, but questionable methods versus no methods.” Izuku bobbed his hands in front of his chest as if weighing the concepts.

Nighteye racked his brain. He stared hard at the ninth holder of One for All. “Energy flow,” he murmured to himself. “Take off your tank top.”

Izuku complied. He was sure All Might’s former sidekick wasn’t going to do anything inappropriate, especially while he had One for All activated.

Stepping into Izuku’s personal space, Nighteye examined the energy arching across his skin. “Before it moved like jagged bands, criss-crossing as it went. Now, it follows your veins, the curves of your muscles. Your healing quirk follows the natural form of your body. If you can train the flow of energy to act in this manner from the start, you won’t need to injure yourself to get here.” He thought for a moment before telling Izuku, “Drop One for All.”

Izuku did. He felt a little less sure of himself without the energy flowing through him. “Oh!” he scrambled to find a pen and paper in the gym but came up with only a slightly annoyed Nighteye. It would have to do. “All Might described holding One for All as his default state and dropping it as feeling empty. I just got nervous about… lots of stuff. I’m a very anxious person. But when One for All is active, I’m not. I’m sure of myself and others.”

“I see.”

“I like to write notes about everything, but there’s no paper in here, so could you remind me when we’re done?”

“Ah, yes. Of course,” Nighteye agreed. “Now, how familiar are you with yoga and tai chi?”

Izuku shrugged. “Most of my training has been, yeah, thorough, but also very piecemeal. Aizawa-sensei was a bit bewildered by how much I knew without knowing what it was.”

“Very well, we’ll start with the basics. Breathing will be a key element throughout. First, mountain pose.” Nighteye circled Izuku as he instructed him. “Feet parallel, toes touching, heels apart. Tense your thighs and abs,” he placed his hand on Izuku’s back. “Tuck your tailbone in slightly. Good. Arms at your sides, palms forward, fingers spread. Shoulders relaxed and back. Chin parallel to the floor.” Nighteye took up the pose beside him. “Breathe in and raise your toes gently; try to balance your body on your heels. Stretch your shoulders, arms, and chest upwards while your heels bear your body weight. Feel the stretch in your body from the head to the feet. Hold this pose for about five to ten seconds and then gently exhale. Repeat for a full minute.”

“I kinda know this one. The arm position is weird, but this is how my trainer starts stretches.”

“Good. This pose opens the root chakra. Blockages there can cause anxiety disorders, fears, or nightmares. So, putting it in balance would do you some good,” Nighteye informed him. “Next is the warrior pose.”

“Ah, that’s the one on the cover of every yoga book ever.”

“That’s the second warrior pose, but the legs are the same. I’m glad you recognize it, though, that’s what we’re working towards now.” Again, Nighteye shifted his posture as he gave instructions and joined Izuku when he was satisfied with the boy’s posture. “Breathe smoothly, and hold this one for at least thirty seconds.”

“Not gonna lie, I don’t feel any strain or discomfort in this pose. I can hold it as long as you want. I mean anything where both feet are on the ground is going to be a breeze for me. This girl at my gym taught me how to walk without making noise, and you have to be able to hold any part of the step.”

“Then I’ll show you the second pose. And from there, the extended side angle. Your flexibility is impressive.” The lesson continued moving up the body chakra by chakra. Nighteye described how the energy was controlled through breathing and flowed through the blood system. He ran his fingers over the paths of the main veins and arteries.

Izuku knew he wasn’t trying to be intimate or arousing, but the similarity to his nightly routine with Kurogiri was unmistakable. He tried to remain professional despite his body’s reaction. Nighteye, however, had the gall to raise a judgmental eyebrow at him. “I’m fifteen,” Izuku snapped defensively.

Nighteye stepped back, stuttered a bit, and finally said, “It was not my intention –”

Izuku cut him off before he could make it more awkward, “Ah, good, a line that works as both explanation and warning.” He did give the mortified hero a bit of ground. “Look, I know you were careful to keep out of the obvious danger zones, but I’m bi and a hormonal teenager. This,” he gestured to his half-erect member, “happens. Ignore it. I know you have a healthy, law-abiding lack of interest in me, and I’ve got a full dance card anyway. Plus, it’s never a good idea to mix personal stuff and business. Too much of that in this arrangement already.”

There was a suspicious, and dangerously cute, blush across Nighteye’s cheeks, which Izuku generously chose to interpret as embarrassment and nothing more. Izuku looked away. He needed neither a pro hero nor a suit fetish.

“Yes, well. Perhaps a break then? Ten minutes? Then we’ll see if we’ve improved your control at all.”

“Cool, if you need a break, I can grab a snack.”

Nighteye cleared his throat. “Good.”

 

“Minoru,” Wildfire called as he rapped on the closet door.

“I’m up, I’m up.” He groaned as he rolled off the rollaway.

The door opened. “There was an incident last night. Stain killed again; an intern.”

Minoru went pale. He felt dizzy and lightheaded.

Wildfire’s voice was distant and fuzzy. “You’re staying at the hotel today. He’s in Hosu. I’m the ideal target for him: bad rep, works alone, mid-tier. I’m going to play bait.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Nah, I’m pissed. Fear is an everyday emotion. This is … he’s killing kids now. You wanna clean up the hero industry? Fine. God knows it needs it, but he’s… you, kids, haven’t done anything yet, you aren’t corrupt.”

“We won’t leave you with nothing to do,” Glam said. “You can review the footage from the studio over here.”

“And keep track of us on these monitors,” Glitz added.

“Text you’re friends,” Dazzle said. “It’ll settle you, and them.”

“Right, yeah.” Minoru sent out a text on the group chat he had been added to after the USJ incident. Is everyone okay? He got affirmations back fairly quickly, and news that it was Iida. “He’s my classmate.”

“I’m sorry,” Razzle said.

 

Manuel sat between a yellow sleeping bag and Hound Dog as the Iidas discussed their strategy to deal with the press. “Luckily, Tensei won’t have to deal with any of this for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Aizawa said. “I never should have let him go to Hosu. I knew he was upset.”

“You did everything you could,” Iida-san replied. “You made him speak to a qualified professional. Tenya is – was very stubborn. Once he got an idea into his head, it would take a pry bar to dislodge it.”

“He used to never drink his orange juice until Tensei told him it fueled his engines. Now he doesn’t go a day without it,” Mrs. Iida reminisced. “We know our baby did wrong. He should never have run off.”

The group sat in silence for a time, until Hound Dog couldn’t keep from making soft whines and excused himself to get a drink. “Does anyone want anything from the vending machines?”

Most of them shook their heads solemnly, but Mrs. Iida asked for an orange juice.

“Right, I’ll be right back.”

Manuel finally fished the photo out of his pocket. “Stain dropped this.” He held it over the table.

Iida-san took it. “Is this why that animal targeted my boys? Because we swept a little youthful indiscretion under the rug?”

“No, sir,” Aizawa said softly. “Tensei worked alongside the Naruhata Vigilantes on several occasions. They had a run-in with a hitman known as Stendhal, which led to him becoming the Hero Killer Stain. At least if what Knuckleduster told me is accurate.”

“Tensei wouldn’t work with criminals.”

“It’s complicated. Knuckleduster is quirkless, Popstep was a victim of a sort of possession quirk, and the Crawler was rehabilitated, not that he really needed it. He was a good kid, but he lacked the support from his family that Tensei has. He started out picking up trash and confronting low-level thugs, and running away. Tensei was the best thing to happen to him.”

“Well, I guess that does make sense.”

 

Carefully modulating his quirk, Shoto finished steaming the pork buns. They were fluffy and white, with little ears and cute faces. He checked his phone as Solstice plated the rest of breakfast. “Hey, turn on the news!” he called. Hastily, he texted his contacts: family first, then Izuku, and finally Yaoyorozu. Shoto realized that the class needed a group chat.

In the living room, the TV was switched from a morning talk show to the local news station. “Update on the latest tragedy involving the Hero Killer, a statement regarding his motives and latest victim has been released to the press. Please be advised that what follows may be disturbing.”

“The word hero has lost all meaning in this society. The world is overrun by fakes and criminals who chase petty dreams. They must all be purged. Everything that I do is to create a stronger society. The streets will run with the blood of hypocrites. Hero! I will reclaim that word. A hero is a hero; age, race, sex, none of that matters. All those who would take up the mantle for fame, greed, or vengeance will be purged.”

“That tirade continued for another four minutes and included specific accusations against his past victims that have yet to be verified by the police.”

“Shit,” Solstice said.

“Just another reason I’m glad to be a rescue hero,” Bonfire replied, shaking her head.

Snowfall bit into her pork bun. “You okay, Frost?”

“Yeah. I mean, it was a classmate, but we’d never really talked. I guess I’m just a little numb.”

“Okay, so this is a good opportunity to teach you about mental health days. We’re taking one,” Bonfire said.

“There’s a lake on the mountain that’s super popular in the summer,” Snowfall said. “You could relax, familiarize yourself with the terrain, and learn some of our combo moves.”

“Snow, this isn’t supposed to be work.”

“Hi, yeah, have you met him? Letting him do light work will relax him more than actually relaxing.”

“She’s got a point, Bonbon.”

“Yeah, okay.”

              

It had taken four days, but Shinso and Siren finally ran into trouble on their rounds. There was a haze of pink in the air trapped by the parking structure’s thick support columns. Star was on the ground screaming bloody murder. Above her was a guy in skinny jeans tucked into boots, a hoodie with a sunburst behind a crown embroidered on it, tucked into rubber gloves, a black rain-slick, and a cheap tactical facemask with goggles. Tank Top Girl was on his back, kicking and scratching; her quirk flashing on and off around them; spectral eyes blinked in and out of existence.

He was just a bit taller than Star, and maybe twenty pounds heavier. His quirk was the real problem. He quivered and wavered unnaturally, almost as if he were gelatinous inside his clothes. Tank Top’s blows were pissing him off, but they didn’t seem to be hurting him.

Shinso loosed his capture scarf at all three of them; if nothing else, he could get the girls away from him. Beside him, Siren started singing. He reached up and activated the noise cancellation feature of his communicator. The three of them went still. And he hauled them out into the open.

Siren kept singing as she typed out a message on her phone. I don’t have a way to restrain him.

“I’ll call the cops. Do you know Sign?”

She shook her head but kept singing.

 

Kendo held Yaoyorozu as she cried. Uwabami moved in and out of the dressing room, alternately comforting the girls and prepping for her interview.

“You’ll survive this,” she told them as she handed them bottles of water. “I’m going on now, you two hang tight. If anyone bothers you, come to me right away. I don’t care if you have to interrupt.”

“We couldn’t –” Yaoyorozu started.

“We will,” Kendo assured her.

 

Fumikage was sad. He petted Dark Shadow’s beak listlessly as he rested on his shoulder. He had skipped breakfast. Hawks had fed Dark Shadow the crunchiest, juiciest apples they had ever had. “The rot of the Hero Killer has eaten away at hero society for too long. Now he even snuffs out the light of the future. He is an aptly named stain upon the tapestry that is our community. Unraveling our threads and leaving us in ruin.”

“Yeah, baby bird. It sucks the big one.”

Fumikage eyed him critically. Hawks’ general attitude was too casual, but he meant well. “Yes. I feel as though the darkness in my heart will never lift.”

“Just think of what your friend would want. And give it time; it could take months, it could take years. Everyone’s different. Come on, I’ll treat you to some fried chicken. I know a great place near here. Quiet, off the beaten path. What do you say?”

“Very well.” After a moment, he added, “I should have just eaten this morning.”

“Nah, you had a nasty shock. If you forced yourself, you might have thrown up.” Hawks slung his arm over Fumikage’s shoulder, and consequently over Dark Shadow. “You have to look after yourself. That’s a big lesson for a hero. Everything is save, protect, rescue. You need to be aware of your own needs and limits. No one can do that for you.”

 

Asuka searched for everything he could find on Stain. He got the full, unedited manifesto the moment it dropped. It was down ten minutes later. Then he hit the message boards to see if anyone was corroborating the claims.

“Is that a good use of your time?” Glidar asked.

“Downtime? Yes. Work time? No.” He put his phone away. “What’s on the agenda, boss?”

Glidar laughed. “I’m glad you’re taking this well. What do you think about the whole thing?”

“Hmm. I would not hire him if that were how he interviewed. Crazy aside, he lacks adaptability, and in the business world, that would kill a company.”

“So, if you were shopping for a spokes-villain for Murder-Time, he’s not on the shortlist?”

“No, he was unclear and repetitive. And he offered no real solutions. Imagine heroing is one company, and there is a problem. Productivity and morale are down. That means profits are down. His solution is to fire people who work at the company for a paycheck, who work there because it’s a family tradition, who work there because they might get some public recognition.” He shook his head. “It’s bad business.”

 

Burnin’ stood next to him on the police station stairs as Hosu’s chief of police led the press conference. Her presence was grounding and reassuring. His mind was more focused on Shoto leaving him on read than the task at hand, but at least he knew his son was safe.

He would never admit it, but this incident made him glad that Shoto had rejected his offer and instead took an internship with some no-name mountain rescue team. At least he was safe.

Shoto is safe, he reminded himself. It didn’t settle his nerves. This was a dangerous career. Villains tried to kill them all the time. Heroes died all the time. But he’s a first-year student with only a few weeks at Yuuei under his belt.

A tug at his wrist grabbed his attention. Burnin’ guided him back inside. “You need to eat something.”

“He was in Shoto’s class. He was a legacy kid.”

She didn’t answer right away. “I’m sure he has more combat training than the Iida kid, but that’s a cold comfort. Shoto’s alive, and sometimes that’s all that matters. Sometimes alive is all we get.”

“Sometimes we don’t even get that,” he replied quietly.

“You need to eat something,” she repeated. All they could do was go forward.

 

The waves lapped at the side of the boat. A cool breeze ruffled the feathers of a seagull resting on the bow. Fukami gazed at the clear blue sky. She wondered how the world could go on unchanged by the death of someone loved by their family, respected by their classmates. Fluffy clouds passed lazily overhead. Fukami blinked in her goggles.

“Hey, kid. I know you don’t like being touched or crowded, and I’m cool giving you your space,” Croc rubbed the back of his head nervously, “I’m here if you need a hug–big spoon or little spoon–or just to talk. I’m crap at this emotional stuff. You know, water rescues are mostly stop ‘em from drowning, or going into shock, and ship ‘em off to the nearest hospital. But I can listen, if you need an ear, is, I guess, what I’m getting at.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know him well. But I believe it is comforting to know that his ideals are alive even if he is not.”

“How do you mean?”

She slithered behind the thickly muscled hero and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “What works?”

“Uhh…”

“Teamwork.”

Chapter 44: A Restful Night

Kurogiri’s fingers ghosted over his skin. He listed the major arteries and veins as he caressed from the heart out each limb and back. “Did you enjoy Nighteye’s lesson?” he asked as he finished.

Izuku chuckled. “Who’s jealous now?”

“I’m just learning about my lover,” Kurogiri insisted. “Was it the contact? The mere caress of a warm body? The taboo of an older man? He is about my age, isn’t he?”

“He’s thirty-eight.”

“The thrill of potentially corrupting a righteous man?” he pushed.

“It was the thought of you,” Izuku said quietly. “It reminded me of your hands on me, your voice, your smell, you.” Izuku pulled him down on top of him. “You turn me on even when you’re not there. Tie me up.”

“You say the sweetest things, love.” Kurogiri kissed him, it was slow and deep, lingering. His hands gripped Izuku’s hips and pulled them closer together despite the heavy press of their bare chests. Small warp gates gathered the supplies as he languished in the taste of his love. Kurogiri nuzzled his neck as the safety scissors clattered lightly on the nightstand. He licked Izuku’s pulse point as hanks of rope cascaded onto the bed. Kurogiri slid down Izuku’s body, trailing kisses as he went.

Izuku was dragged to the foot of the bed and pulled into a sitting position. Kurogiri buried his hand in his hair to tilt his head back. Izuku gasped and moaned at the treatment. Warm lips pressed against his again, and a wet tongue worked its way in.

Kurogiri moved behind him on the bed without fully breaking the kiss. He began wrapping the rope around Izuku’s middle, just below his pecks. After checking the fit, Kurogiri brought the rope around him again in the opposite direction. Kurogiri’s fingers caressed up his spine as the rope was pulled up. He ran his hands over Izuku’s peck as he wrapped the rope around him again, just under his arms. After the second pass, again in the opposite direction, he took a moment to check that he could still fit two fingers under both sections. Kurogiri brought the rope over Izuku’s shoulders to make a V shape.

“How’s my pretty boy?” Kurogiri asked.

“G-good,” Izuku replied a blush blooming on his cheeks.

“Wonderful.”  Kurogiri finished the chest harness and wove the excess around the shoulder ropes in a figure-eight. “Gorgeous.”  He made sure the fit was still correct before asking, “May I tie your arms?”

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed. He put his arms behind his back, one hand holding the opposite elbow.

“So enthusiastic. However, I have a different tie in mind. Straighten your arms, and put your palms together.” Kurogiri started with a double-column tie around the wrists. He brought the rope up to just below the elbows and wrapped it around both arms. After wrapping the tail around the band, he said, “Let me know if that’s too tight, or uncomfortable at all.”

“It’s straining my shoulders a bit; I don’t think I’d be comfortable like this for long.”

“Relax your arms,” Kurogiri instructed as he adjusted the rope. “Is that better?”

“Yeah.” Izuku looked up at him shyly.

Kurogiri gave a breathy little gasp. “Oh, my. Such a cute face. Can I have a picture?”

Izuku’s blush deepened. “Y-yeah. If I can have a kiss.”

Kurogiri began trailing kisses along his jaw. When he got to Izuku’s ear, he gave a slow, sensual lick. He explored the shell of Izuku’s ear. He worried the lobe between his teeth. After dipping his tongue into Izuku’s ear, he relented and plundered his mouth.

As he pulled away, Izuku heard the shutter noise of his phone capturing a picture. “Kurogiri.”

“You are so beautiful.” He continued the armbinder by securing another band above Izuku’s elbows. He tied it off on the chest harness. “How is that?”

“Fine. It’s not too tight,” Izuku assured him.

Kurogiri took more pictures, before moving Izuku to the sitting area. Izuku sat obediently on the rectangular stool. Kurogiri rewarded him with another languid kiss. “Beautiful, adorable, perfect. My precious pet. Mmm, you are delicious, love. A feast for the senses.” He ruffled Izuku’s hair. “You’re so good to me.”

There was a timid knock on the door. Kurogiri used his quirk to peer out and see who it was. “Ah, Himiko,” he said warping her onto the bed, “what can I do for you?”

“I wanna play with Stray-kun too,” she answered poutily.

“Hmm. I suppose that would be fair,” he turned back to Izuku, “if he agrees.”

“I’m okay with it,” he said. “As long as we’re all happy with going slow.”

Toga nodded. “I can do slow if I have to.”

“Would you like to be tied as well?”

She shook her head.

“Very well. It requires a lot of trust, I will never fault you for not being ready. Why don’t you take a closer look at him instead?”

He snapped a few shots of her as she came over. She was wearing a pair of pale pink and white striped stockings, a very short pink pleated skirt trimmed in white lace, and a two-sizes-too-large sweater with white dots and black bats on it.

“You like it?” Toga asked bending gratuitously to admire Izuku’s bindings.

“It’s cute,” Kurogiri agreed. “Give her a kiss, Love.”

Izuku leaned up and Toga leaned down. Her hands gripped Izuku’s jaw. Their lips met, and her tongue slid against his. The click of Kurogiri’s phone caused them to giggle into the kiss. That made Izuku groan and stretch up for more.

Toga took that as her cue to straddle his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling them closer. The warmth of her body against his, the weight of her against his thighs, the soft swell of her breasts against his chest, the crush of her lips against his made him feverish. The kiss became passionate, frantic.

Izuku felt like a teenager for the first time; an odd mix of anxiety and confidence ran through him. His hips moved in time with hers and soon they were both doing more moaning than kissing. Izuku dragged his mouth down, lips caressing her chin. Toga tilted her head back, allowing him access to her neck.

A groan from behind Toga reminded them that they were not alone. Her head whipped around; her face was a display of teenage debauchery. Lips puffy and red, eyes dilated, her mouth hung in a surprised little ‘O’. Izuku gazed shyly over her shoulder at his lover.

“You're doing perfectly, go on,” Kurogiri encouraged. One hand held the camera steady while the other ghosted over his still-trapped erection. “Please.”

Toga moved back on his lap and licked Izuku’s collarbone, her hands caressing over the ropes. She bit his neck where it connected with his shoulder. Izuku moaned at the feeling, he’d assumed it would hurt. Instead, it sent a jolt of arousal through him.

Until she kept adding pressure. “Himiko,” he said warningly. He hissed and wiggled back in his seat.

She pulled back, without breaking the skin, a pout on her face.

“That hurt, baby,” Izuku said, his voice carrying a mewling quality. Kurogiri stood, still taking pictures.

“Sorry?” Toga replied. She licked the tender spot. Izuku flinched and gasped, expecting pain again but finding pleasure. “But isn’t it worth it?”

She whipped her head around a split second before Kurogiri’s hand landed roughly on her butt. “Hey!”

He rubbed the rapidly fading mark. “Did you not like that?” he asked smoothly. “Should I have asked first?”

“Okay, geez, I get it.”

“Good.” Kurogiri circled around and began untying Izuku’s arms.

Toga pouted and slid off his lap. “I got a little carried away and I said sorry! Why do we have to stop?”

“Himiko-chan, we’re not stopping. Izuku is very new to being tied; I don’t want to strain him too much,” he explained. “He might also wish to touch you. He’s very tactile.”

Kurogiri took his time removing the ropes. He rubbed Izuku’s arms and shoulders once they were free. He continued to caress each bit of bare skin as he took the harness off. He tied an overhand knot in the middle of the rope, creating a loop. After aligning it between his shoulders and level with his armpits, a series of knots were tied in the front starting at the clavicle. “Stand up for me, love,” Kurogiri instructed. “Do you, would you like a knot on your perineum?”

“I don’t know. We can try it.”

Kurogiri smiled. “Excellent.” After he added a figure-eight knot, he ran the tail between Izuku’s legs, up his back, and through the loop. The ends were separated and run through their respective sides of the first section. A decorative twist was added before an overhand knot was tied around the center line. He repeated this for the next two sections. He tied it off with a corded square knot. Having plenty of rope left, he ran the ends out and tied the last section as well.

Toga marveled at the little diamonds that were created and giggled at the care taken to make sure Izuku’s pants didn’t bunch or wrinkle around the rope. He tied the excesses rope off by wrapping it around the stem.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Toga hummed. “It’s not bad. Nothing special, but I don’t dislike it.”

Kurogiri returned his attention to Izuku, “Comfortable?”

He nodded. “Yeah. A bit more than just comfortable.”

When Toga straddled Izuku again his arms wrapped around her. His hands caressed up and down her back before settling on her butt. The rope accentuated his already straining arousal as they resumed making out. The click of Kurogiri’s phone reminded them of his presence as he moved about the room to get different angles.

Kissing and groping quickly became fevered rutting. Passionate moans filled the air. Pleasure built in Izuku. His movements became frantic. The figure eight knot was definitely doing its job.

Toga pulled her sweater off revealing a bounty of soft flesh and a delicate pink lace bra. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Mmm, please don’t stop.”

Izuku shook his head. He leaned in and kissed her neck, her shoulder, anything he could reach without disrupting the frenzied pace. All too soon, Izuku reached the peak of his own pleasure. He clutched Toga moaning and gasping as his hips jutted against her.

He leaned back on the stool, drinking in the sight of her as he caught his breath. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “just let me catch my breath.”

Toga pouted and squirmed on his lap.

“Gah. Please, just let me catch my breath,” he whined, falling the rest of the way back.

“Himiko-chan?” Kurogiri asked from beside them. “May I touch you?”

She held a hand out to him, and he took it. Instead of pulling her into his lap as Izuku thought he would, Kurogiri let Toga pull him to her. She grabbed his other hand and pulled both of them to her breasts, forcing him to stand behind her. Then Toga reached back and pulled him against her.

Kurogiri gave a soft moan that tapered off into a chuckle. It was that genuine earthy sound that Izuku loved. “I think I know what you want,” he gave her breasts a squeeze. “Tell me, Himiko baby, do you want to sit on daddy’s lap?”

She nodded.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“I want to cum,” she whined.

“Plenty of ways we can accomplish that.” He slid one hand lower.

She grabbed it and pulled it back up. “Fuck me.”

“Is that what you really want, Himiko?”

Toga shook her head. She ground her butt against his erection. “I’m not calling you daddy.”

“Then don’t. Tell me what you want. Everything else is optional.”

“I wanna sit on your lap and ride you,” she said in a rush.

Kurogiri looked pleased as he nuzzled Toga’s neck and slid both hands down to grip her thighs. “As you wish.” He lifted her up easily and straddled Izuku. He made himself comfortable, eliciting a groan from his prone lover. Then he settled Toga on top of him. “That’s not too much strain is it?”

“Nah,” she gasped, her hips already matching her previous pace. Kurogiri returned his hands to her covered breasts; his squeezing and rubbing eliciting tiny gasps and sensual moans.

 Izuku stared up at them. He could barely move in the afterglow of his orgasm, but the sight, and feel, of the pair on top of him was already rekindling his arousal. 

Kurogiri gave another earthy chuckle. “Ah, the advantages of youth.” He moved against Izuku causing him to squirm with pleasure. It boarded on overstimulation, but without the crush of Toga’s lips against his, Izuku could enjoy the not-quite-slow build-up.

Toga squeaked and shuddered on Kurogiri’s lap; wave after wave of pleasure washing over her. She went limp in his arms. He gently laid her down and excised himself from the mass of sweaty exhausted teens, much to Izuku’s frustration.

He used his warp gate to gather a warm washcloth. He moved Toga to the bed and stripped her despite her mild protests. “Shh, sweetheart. It’s alright. I’m just cleaning you up a bit. No funny business I promise.”

“… cut you,” she murmured almost softly enough that Izuku missed it.

“You’re a bit tired for that, I think,” he replied, grabbing a tee shirt out of the dresser for her. He helped her put it on, and a pair of sleep pants. “My, you look delicious in that. No, no you rest now.” He gently pushed her down on the bed when she tried to kiss him. “It’s Stray-kun’s turn.”

Kurogiri returned to the stool. The rope was carefully untied. Izuku gave a soft whine when he was denied the usual slow and lingering touches that came with the process. Then came a second warm washcloth, and Izuku was likewise stripped. He broke out in a full-body blush that had Toga cooing sleepily. Kurogiri took his time wiping up the sticky mess. “There now, all clean, love.”

“What about you?” Izuku asked as he lifted his hips to let Kurogiri put a clean pair of pants on him.

“If it’s alright with the two of you, I’d prefer to take care of this myself, while watching you cuddle.”

“And then you’ll join us, right?” Toga asked. Izuku nodded beside her as if he thought the answer was obvious.

The mist below his eyes tinged purple. “If you’d like.”

“We would,” Toga said as she buried her face in Izuku’s chest.

“Of course,” Izuku said. He wrapped one arm around Toga and nuzzled her hair. His eyes kept flicking to Kurogiri. It made the warpgate’s blush darken. “Do you not like being watched?”

“It’s not that,” he replied huskily. His sleep pants were pushed down his hips and while the mist did conceal his body, the languid motion of his arm was unmistakable. “It’s a relief that the two of you want to share this with me. I’m sure Himiko is worried about being taken advantage of, especially by an older man.”

“You won’t get tired of me ‘coz I’m useful,” she whispered.

“I want better for us than that,” Kurogiri replied. “I want to love you, too. I’m greedy like that.”

“Oh, no, our boyfriend wants to love us,” Izuku said drowsily.

“The fiend,” Toga returned solemnly. She hooked her leg over Izuku’s.

The pair snuggled lazily as they watched Kurogiri fondle himself. His movement and breath sped up. He whined like he was biting his lip, but Kurogiri was otherwise composed. His mist did seem to spread out more than usual.

“God, you look amazing like that,” Izuku said. “I can’t wait to have you wrapped around us. To wrap you up in my shadow.”

 “Mmm, to nuzzle the crook of your neck,” Toga added.

“To sleep in each other’s arms.” “Legs all tangled up.” “Subconsciously petting each other’s hair.” “Hearing the soft rhythm of your heartbeat.”

Kurogiri covered his mouth as he came; a low moan stifled much to his partners’ disappointment. When he popped into the bathroom to clean up they chased after him.

“Give,” Izuku said firmly as Toga practically pounced on him.

“I can…” the cloth was taken from his hand.

“Our turn.” Izuku knelt to wash Kurogiri’s abs, finding he mostly had to do so by brail. Toga grabbed a second washcloth and started with his back. They gently scrubbed away sweat and superficial grime. Mist swirled around them, seeming to caress the pair as they worked. Kurogiri murmured praise and terms of endearment to them as he caressed what he could reach of each; Toga’s legs and butt, Izuku’s hair, cheeks, neck, and shoulders.

When Izuku found the bulk of the mess, he was overtaken by curiosity. He leaned down and licked it. It was slightly bitter and slimy yet somehow bland at the same time.

Kurogiri groaned. “Love.”

Toga giggled and kissed him, her tongue slipping in to steal a taste.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purred. “Are you two trying to spoil me?”

“Yes,” they chorused.

“It’s working,” he admitted.

Izuku finished cleaning the mess and Toga rubbed down his legs. Kurogiri warped them back to the bedroom. Izuku was glad it was never too hot in their room as the trio negotiated positions. They ended up with one of them under each of Kurogiri’s arms; until Izuku’s shadow pulled Toga closer.

“Hey!”

“I’m a sleep cuddler, you know this,” Izuku said, his voice rich with satisfaction and heavy with sleep.

“Yeah,” she agreed as she started lazily petting his hair. “Floofy.”

Kurogiri hugged them both tightly and nuzzled the tops of their heads. “Mine,” he said softly.

“And don’t you forget it,” one of them murmured. They drifted into a comfortable sleep; cocooned in mist and shadow, sated and loved.

 

Rei Todoroki tossed and turned in her sleep. The same nightmare was repeating over and over every night. She was on the phone with her mother. “And Shoto, that child’s left side sometimes feels unbearable to me. All I can see is his father. I can’t raise him anymore. I want to run away from this life.”

“Mom? What are you saying?” Shoto’s tiny voice asked.

The kettle shrilled at that moment. Her mind shied away from the horrors that followed, instead tormenting her with Enji’s grief and rage. “He’s already five.” The same age Toya…

“You’re guilty too.” Her mind flooded with images of her oldest. His skin was red and raw covered in burns and blisters. Flames raced towards her as she clutched newborn Shoto. “Look at me!”

 

Tomura had made sure he had all his snacks and drinks ready before he put his game in; his noise-canceling headphones already firmly in place. Kurogiri had started him off with a beef bowl and some chicken skewers, but he had devoured those while they were still hot. Now he was working his way through a bag of pizza-flavored chips and a six-pack of ramune.

His fingers were a little greasy, so he wiped them on his pants rather than risk the custom controller. It was painted with a scene from Lunar Gaia: Blue Heart. He paid more than he should have, but it was his favorite part. Not the Emperor of Sorrow’s introduction, but the flashback scene that showed that Sir Wilmont recognized him. It was a brief flash in the game; a literal blink and you miss it.

He was coming up on the part where he was sure Vayne would turn traitor when something started vibrating on the couch. It took him a moment to realize it was his phone. All his contacts had video game music for ringtones, so he knew it was something else. He swiped the screen to unlock it.

The nanny cam they put in All Might’s shitty apartment had been deactivated.

Tomura grumbled to himself and set the phone on the back of the couch. Hopefully, he would remember to tell Kurogiri.

 

Yagi tossed and turned on his futon. He really needed to spring for a better place. The security at Aizawa and Yamada’s condo was outrageous, but he needed more than this flimsy cracker box offered. Who was pranking him and how were they getting in warred with one of the students is dead for top billing as to why he couldn’t sleep.

Finally, he gave in and sat up. He didn’t dare turn on the TV or radio after ten, but he booted up his computer to see if he had any overdue paperwork. Because it was linked to the school’s systems, Nezu had added a few safety features. It notified him of an unauthorized wireless device in his apartment.

The little camera had been placed on the fridge. He was tall enough to see it easily, so he thought it must be new. He realized that Yuuei’s security could likely trace the little thing, just after he angrily crushed it between his fingers.

Sighing, he sat back down. Maybe now he could get some sleep. It wasn’t likely that they’d come back after their camera was discovered, after all. Still, the questions remained.

His lock never seemed tampered with, and the pranks seemed harmless, but the camera was concerning. Yagi mulled over the issue as his eyelids began to droop. The soft glow of the laptop screen seemed to be an effective sleep aid, despite claims to the contrary. Yagi thought he really should go back to bed.

 

Izuku pulled Tomura’s headphones off. The sound that escaped was blaring.

“Gah! Don’t sneak up on me!” he rasped.

 “That can’t be good for your ears.” Izuku frowned.

“You know what else isn’t good for my ears?”

Izuku blushed and handed the headphones back. “Kurogiri’s making a quick breakfast, do you want anything.”

“Nah, I’ve been snacking.” His phone fell forward as Izuku leaned over to watch the game he was currently playing. “But if he insists on some vegetables I’ll eat them.”

“Is that Song of the Winter Witch?”

“Yeah, I pre-ordered it, so I got the bonus chapter for free.”

“But in Dungeon Denizens –”

“Side games aren’t canon, they’re written by a different team.”

“Oh.”

“Let Kurogiri know something is wrong with the prank cam for me,” Tomura instructed as he tossed his phone on the table.

“Will do.” Izuku tore his eyes away from the spoiler-filled screen and continued upstairs.

 

Kurogiri frowned. The lack of décor meant that it was hard to adjust the pranks on the fly. Luckily for him, yesterday’s bubble wrap was on top of the trash and reasonably intact. After making sure All Might was asleep where he was hunched over his laptop, he placed the new – flash broadcasting – camera in the light fixture and trimmed two curved pieces of unspent bubbles. The rest was placed back in the trash.

Chapter 45: Internships Day Five

Yagi looked blurrily at the tiny clock on his laptop. His neck and shoulders protested any movement. Nevertheless, he had to stop the incessant beeping of his alarm clock. He managed to army crawl within reach of it. Shutting it off, he wiggled up his futon.

Between the fading bruise on his tailbone and the stiffness from sleeping hunched over the table all night the morning paper wasn’t worth the effort. Hopefully, his pranksters got the message and would call it quits.

 

Light was just beginning to filter through the curtains in his hospital room, as Tensei blinked awake. He was aware, in the vaguest of ways, that there was someone in his room. He knew, as he took stock of his aching body, that he should call a nurse for pain medication, but he couldn’t bring himself to bother.

Tenya was dead. His brother was dead. His son was dead. “It’s my fault,” Tensei said.

“Oh, sweetie. It’s no one’s fault but that villain,” his mother said softly.

Someone yawned and stretched on the couch. “I’m going to see if the cafeteria is open yet.” His father was always the practical one.

It brought tears to his eyes all over again. His parents stayed the whole night after giving him the news. “Mom,” he began, but there was nothing else.

There didn’t need to be. His mom came to the side of the hospital bed and stroked his hair. “I know it hurts, baby. I feel the same way. If only we’d done something differently.”

                

Shinso opened the crate that Mei had sent. It was smaller than he had expected. He tried to work quietly, having silenced Sirens alarms again. When he had finished setting up, he found Siren standing in the doorway glaring at him.

“Fuck you, Jack.”

“Not in front of Mei’s baby,” he replied deadpan. He began unwrapping loaves of bread and setting them on a tray at the top marked with a bread icon.

“What is that thing anyway?”

“Automated sandwich and rice ball maker. It even saran wraps them.” He dumped a bag of rice into a funnel.

 “Where did it come from?”

“My friend, Mei, is in the support department. Technically this isn’t support gear, so it’s not illegal.” Shino carefully placed raw eggs in the shoot.

“How’d you get a support gremlin to make an assembly line?”

“It’s crime prevention, plus she views it as an unusual piece of support equipment. Heroics isn’t all about punching.” He flicked the machine on and the mountain of sandwiches came into being almost by itself.

 

The waves lapped at the side of the boat. A cool breeze ruffled the feathers of a seagull resting on the bow. Fluffy clouds passed lazily overhead. The relative stillness of the harbor in the early morning was unsettling to Fukami. Croc was already sunning himself on the deck. The day was gearing up to be a slow one.

“Gimme about an hour and we’ll have another driving lesson, okay?”

Fukami smiled. “Excellent.”

 

Minoru sat in his new costume, in the back of a police station. He was squished on the couch between Razzle and Dazzle. He was sure now that their quirks altered their appearances. The pair were nowhere near as well endowed as they appeared when he had first met them.

“We really appreciate this, Glam,” the officer said. “The Smoke and Mirrors Agency came in clutch on this one. We can barely even test for Blush, we never would have found this Ombre strain without you girls.”

“The credit goes to our little unpaid intern, Vineyard. He spent all of yesterday pouring over the backlog of security footage we had, tracking the suspect he noticed the day before. It was a lot of hard work and we’re proud of him. It’s not glamorous, it’s the job.”

The officer laughed. “Too right.”

 

Yaoyorozu’s eyes were red and she had a headache but Uwabami was treating them to a fancy, homemade breakfast: tall, fluffy pancakes served with butter, powdered sugar, and plump, juicy berries. She had a navy and eggshell stoneware dish set. The cups all had googly eyes glued on them.

“That’s so juvenile,” Kendo complained.

“I kinda like it,” Yaoyorozu admitted.

“My mother gave me the set. The eyes are the product of an argument with an ex-boyfriend. He always felt ‘watched’ by my quirk; wanted me to put hoods on them or something. Instead, I put googly eyes on everything. I like the cups, but I should have just broken up with him. If he can’t handle your quirk, he can’t handle you.”

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Yaoyorozu asked.

“A quick patrol, a meeting with a detective in the narcotics division about the photographer from the other day, and a dinner party at Tenji Hakama’s.”

“Is he related to Best Jeanist?”

“Yes, his younger brother in fact.”

 

He had a glass of water on his desk in front of him. It sloshed back and forth, as he idly manipulated it with his quirk. He had let the call from Yuuei go to his voice mail, not sure if he was truly dreading the news that he would be ineligible for future internships or relieved that he wouldn’t have to make the decision himself.

Finally, Manuel played the message. A small somber voice came through his phone’s speaker. “Hello, this is principal Nezu. I wanted to let you know that neither the Iida family nor we hold you in any way responsible for the tragedy that befell their son. Your bids for interns will still be accepted. We will understand if you do not feel up to extending one next year. Please take care of yourself, and contact us if we may be of assistance.”

Manuel sobbed helplessly onto his desk. A child in his care had died, and no one blamed him. He’d lost sight of Tenya, and he’d been killed. How could they possibly still trust him?

The water in the glass slowly came to a rest. Manuel wiped his face. He was a hero after all and it was time to start his patrol.

 

“Okay, I want you to start by slowly lowering the temperature; just enough to produce frost. Then focus on simple shapes, like circles and squares,” Snowfall instructed when Shoto walked into the kitchen. She directed him to a slab of marble.

“Aren’t I helping with breakfast?”

“When Bonbon cooks sure, but fire is not my bag. Snow, ice, cold, and wind are.”

Accepting the lesson, he touched the marble slab and chilled the area around his finger in a three-inch diameter. He moved over and repeated the process. Slowly the frost crept out from his touch. He watched as veins of it flowed out in an organic way. The corners ended up very round and the edges were blurry.  Shoto pointed out, “You and Sol use hexagons and triangles.”

“Well, yeah. The hexagon is the most efficient shape and triangles tessellate into it naturally. But you’re trying to end up with a heart, so I thought two circles for the top and a square for the point.”

“Hmm.” He thought for a moment before drawing a frost heart out of triangles. “I like triangles better. Three of those kind of make a heart already.”

“Either way, keep practicing. After breakfast, we’re making support columns out of it. Smooth sides. None of that jagged spike shit.”

 

Fukami paled slightly as she took the controls. Her first lesson had ended abruptly. “Remind me how to lower the anchor.”

“It’s this one. Huh. Guess I need to fix the label.” Croc grabbed a sharpie and doodled an anchor above the knob. “Take us out just passed the reef.”

 

Yagi finally hauled himself out of bed around noon. His shoulders ached less, but he still had a crick in his neck that caused him a stabbing pain if he moved wrong. He grabbed his water and pills, contemplated eating, and headed to the bathroom.

The second he rested his weight on the toilet seat he was startled by a soft ripple of pops. He jumped. Winced from the pain in his neck and stumbled, falling half into his shower. Face mashed against the wall, Yagi let out a soft whimper. The bathroom was too small to fall in.

He inspected the toilet, finding bubble wrap around the rim. Then he searched the bathroom for a camera. Luckily, there wasn’t one. He dry swallowed a couple of aspirin, quickly finished up with the toilet, and searched the rest of the apartment. He frowned when he came up empty.

Yagi opened the laptop and checked for any wireless devices. He was pleased to find none. At least his tormentors couldn’t watch him suffer anymore.

 

Gang Orca was waiting in the car, as the restaurant was busy, but true to his word Bakugo never left his sight and there were three other sidekicks with him. Ebu, Geta, and Switcheroo were arguing over the merits of buying meals versus ordering sandwiches, sides, and drinks separately as they walked in.

A large group of teenage girls dominated the dining area, despite it being the middle of a school day. Closest to the line were a trio of cat mutations that were probably sisters.  Next to them was a three-foot albino rabbit in a middle school uniform that was scowling. The fox-girl she was sharing a table with had her ears flattened against her head and was growling faintly.

Something about fox-girl’s outfit rubbed Bakugo the wrong way. The base was a white, bare midriff, one-piece shorts/halter that hugged her like a second skin. At the waist and outer thighs were mesh and crimson panels in a wave pattern. The waistline dipped in the back to accommodate her long, flowing tail. The mala bead bracelets on her wrists and ankles matched both the exact shades and ratios of white to red. It was all clearly custom. The choker with the gold bell was almost the only thing that didn’t match the outfit, but it did match her friends.

The artfully tattered, long, almost wine-red scarf tying her floor-length golden-blond hair back was an anomaly. Bakugo knew enough about fashion from his mother and female classmates to know that girls did not make mistakes like that. And given recent events it didn’t take a genius to know what statement the fox-girl was making.

“Meals are slightly cheaper,” Geta pointed out.

“Yeah,” Ebu agreed cheerfully, “but large orders should be done more efficiently, it's polite to the cooks.”

“Which way is fastest?” Switcharoo asked.

“Divide and conquer,” Bakugo said. “Geta: two Texas burgers with Sprite, two California burgers with Sprite, and two Teriyaki burgers with melon sodas. Switch: four shrimp filets with coke zeros, four Big Macs with coffees. Ebu: four egg cheeseburgers, two chicken cheeseburgers, two fries, one salad, one iced coffee, and two iced tea with lemon. Leaving four barbecue pork burgers, two chicken cheeseburgers, three nuggets, one caramel iced latte, one iced tea with milk, and one orange juice for me.” He passed a list to each of them.

Ebu quickly compared them to the original order. “He’s got everything.”

“Then let’s do this!” Switcheroo said taking a spot at the farthest register.

Geta checked his list, nodded, and queued in the next line.

“You did a good job with the organization. Your self-confidence is superb. And your tone and manner are so much better than they were. You’re doing great!” Ebu told him. “Keep it up!”

“I heard they’re all criminals,” someone behind them said.

“It’s worse than that,” a second girl added. “They’re just money worshipers playing hero! They’ve done nothing to earn the title.”

Bakugo growled behind his mask. A pair of kids with their mother moved closer to the two teens ahead of them in line. “Sorry,” Bakugo said to them. He stared resolutely at the menu.

“Mr. Flatfish?” the younger child asked. Bakugo recognized her from the tour.

“I’m surprised you remember. Everyone was so excited about the seahorses.”

Behind him, Bakugo heard the scrape of a chair and the light click of canine claws on the tiled floor. He did his best to ignore the approaching girl, to pretend she was just refilling her soda, or asking for more ketchup packets. Until he caught sight of her well-manicured, claw-like nails as she moved to rest her long, slender fingers on his shoulder.

“You have something to say, hero?” the fox-girl asked, her voice dripping with contempt.

As she turned him to face her, Bakugo noted that she was taller than him. She was also lean and muscled in a way that spoke of increased strength. Her other arm was held unnaturally close to her body.

He heard the muttered swears of his companions and caught a flash of movement in the parking lot out of the corner of his eye. Gang Orca had gotten out of the car.

“Sidekick,” he corrected. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Guess you think that makes you safe, huh?”

“Nah,” he said turning back to the menu, “danger's just a part of the job, girly. I don’t need to feel safe, as long as I can protect them.” He pointed his chin at the family in front of him.

“So, can you? You can’t even protect yourself.” She hissed in his ear.

Bakugo tensed as he pointed the cement gun on his arm down at her feet. He fired the moment he felt the impact. The sound of metal scraping ceramic made him grateful for the body armor. Fox-girl’s indignant shriek made him grateful for Hatsume’s communicator.

“How dare you!” Still holding the knife, she hopped away. The hardening compound was already splattered up her front. Bakugo took irrational pleasure in knowing her expensive outfit was ruined.

“Me? You’re the dumbass attacking pro heroes and following that spineless, worthless psychopath,” he shot back, wiping cement off his knees. As long as her attention was on him, it wasn’t on the civilians. “He killed a student.”

“All those that would take up the mantle of hero for fame, greed, or vengeance will be purged,” the rabbit yelled, pulling a knife of her own and lunging at Ebu.

Her four spider legs had emerged from her costume and were rapidly spinning webs. Focusing on restraining the obvious powerhouses – a bear in a studded leather jacket and a reptile with a whip-like tail – she didn’t have time to block. Luckily, Switcheroo was fast on the draw and accurate in his split-second evaluations. There was a light pop sound as the rabbit’s knife was replaced with a novelty yodeling pickle.

“Damn, cheap knife,” he snickered. Several other soft pops were heard in rapid succession.

“Out the back!” Geta shouted, pushing an older couple away from the fighting. “Now!” He waved the staff and patrons around the counter.

The rabbit dropped the novelty pickle and began thumping Ebu with her legs instead. “Huldra?”

“Take them out! We have them outnumbered!” the fox snarled, busting the hardening cement as she flexed.

Twelve girls with animal mutations stood from tables, stepped in from side entrances, and turned in line.

“Hear that, Geta Geta, they think they got us outnumbered,” Switcheroo said.

“Outnumbered?” Geta asked. He started chuckling. “Outnumbered!” He began laughing. “Out – HA – numbered.” He snorted. His laughter shifted from an obnoxious, but human, guffaw to a cackling, whooping, howling, barking hyena’s laugh.

The rabbit stopped her kicking and ran like her namesake. The remaining staff and customers fled screaming. A young boy, separated from his mother cowered under a table. A dog girl with poorly dyed pigtails scrambled out so fast she lost a shoe and the skull print ribbon tied around her tail. Ebu trapped one of the catgirls as she stopped to throw her weapon – a Hello Kitty baseball bat – before fleeing. A pop and a call of “I’m keeping this,” preceded Bakugo getting hit with a harmless rubber chicken. His communicator kept cutting out, lessening the effect of Geta’s panic-inducing laughter.

“Fake heroes like you don’t deserve to live,” Fox-girl screamed and kicked Ebu, launching her over the counter.

“Better to be a fake hero and help someone than a wanna-be villain that lashes out at the innocent.” Gang Orca was at the door.

Even as Geta’s laughter tapered off the girls continued to flee. It was one thing to attack nameless sidekicks, it was another thing entirely to go up against the number ten pro hero.

Fox-girl lunged past Bakugo, diving under the table. The boy screamed. The heroes froze.

“Let him go,” Orca commanded, stepping into the dining area.

“Or what?”

“There are no options up for discussion here.”

Bakugo stepped back, falling in line with the others. He whispered, “Can you switch people?”

“Yeah, sometimes, but pricing humans is dicey and it wipes me out.”

“Two minors ought to have roughly the same value,” he pointed out.

Switcheroo reached passed Geta and took a hold of Bakugo’s hand. He couldn’t think about what they might mean to their loved ones, sentimental value was incalculable. Potential was equally useless to him. Ground Zero could well be the next All Might or Endeavor. The kid could grow up and cure cancer, or invent the next big clean energy source. He concentrated on the monetary value of the two subjects, forcing himself to view them as objects. Human trafficking left too much of a variable: whole, live humans went for anywhere between four hundred and fifty thousand yen to five and a half million yen and he had no interest in learning the why of that. Parted out correctly you could get approximately fifty billion yen per person for a body. Each part, organs, bones, muscles, limbs, blood, and miscellaneous chemicals flashed in his mind. Neither was really worth more than the other sectioned out like that. They were basically the same thing at that point. Interchangeable. POP!

Switcheroo managed to pull the kid down behind Geta as he fell to the floor. Bakugo rapid-fired the cement gun, coating the both of them. A net of spider silk smacked into them, bonding with the cement and holding the fox-girl in place.

As most fights did, it only lasted a few seconds.

“Whew!” Ebu folded her legs back into her costume once she was sure the web would hold. “Is everyone okay?”

“I’m fine, just stuck.”

Gang Orca reached down and tore Bakugo free. “Let me see where she stabbed you.”

“Kid’s unharmed, Switch is okay, I’m good,” Geta sounded off.

The customers and employees cautiously emerged from the back. Bakugo scratched at the cement on his costume as Orca inspected the damage.

“Looks like she might have hit you hard enough to bruise. I want you checked out before we leave.”

“Yes sir.”

They waited for the cops and EMTs to show up. Ebu had had to gag the fox-girl to get her to shut up about Stain. It was a good thing she had as the rhetoric was wearing on his last nerve.

Geta grabbed a juice box for the kid, and water for the rest of them. He waved each at the security camera. The manager knew them, and they could reimburse the restaurant later. “Here.” He passed around the drinks. The boy flinched when he approached him and a still dazed Switcheroo.

“He’s scary,” the boy whimpered tucking his head into Switcheroo’s chest.

“Nah, he ain’t scary, he’s just another flatfish.” Bakugo slung his arm around the man’s shoulders.

“Mr. Flatfish!” the boy chirped happily, finally taking his juice box.

“Yep,” Bakugo admitted. “My friend here is a real clownfish, a laugh riot.”

The boy was content after that to chatter at the pair, bombarding them with fish trivia. Soon an older boy, about ten or so, approached them. “Thank you, for looking after my brother.”

“No problem,” Geta replied. “Mr. Flatfish here is the real hero.”

“Can I have your autographs?”

“Sure.”

“Geta Geta and Ground Zero? I’ve never heard of you.”

“Gee Zee is just an intern, you hold on to that. One day, he’ll explode onto the scene,” Geta said in an otherwise serious tone.

“Did, did you just make a pun?” Bakugo asked.

He nodded, solemnly. “Had to pick up the slack until Switch gets his head on straight again.”

“Drawback of my quirk.” Switcheroo gripped his water bottle as if it were a lifeline. “One hundred and sixty yen. Reversible octopus plush, endless bubble wrap toy, bag of plastic dinosaurs, rope dog toy, silly putty.”

“Alright,” Gang Orca addressed them, “Tai-kun just needs to get checked out by the EMTs and we can send him home with his mother. You get looked at too, Switcheroo. I don’t want to have to drive you to the hospital later.”

He took a swig of his water. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve probably just got a mild case of quirk exhaustion.”

“You three can start taking our lunch order to the car.”

“Yes sir!”

The fifteen thousand yen they spent on food would help make up for the disruption to customer flow. And once the police took custody of the suspect they could clean up the concrete and webbing. Overall, it might cost the restaurant half an hour of dine-in business. Especially since Ebu was chatting away with the employees, calming them down so that no one felt the need to take the rest of the day off.

 

Fukami dropped the anchor under Croc’s guidance. “Good job. Now I don’t know if you spotted it from the pier, but see that buoy?”

“Yes,” Fukami replied, moving to the railing.

“It wasn’t there yesterday.” Croc shucked his jeans, tossing them into the wheelhouse. “I know all the crab fishers in the harbor, and nobody puts their pods out this far. Let’s check it out.” He turned to face Fukami. “But if you see anyone, and I mean anyone, you hightail it to the pier and get harbor patrol. Got it?”

She considered him for a moment before replying, “Yes, sir.”

Croc was a very relaxed person, for him to become serious outside of a crisis was warning enough for Fukami.

 

Hawks feathers darted here and there solving every little problem on the street below. A purse-snatcher was captured, and a police officer was delivered to the victim. A little kid’s ball was rescued from traffic. A group of high schoolers loitering near a cigarette store were scattered by three vibrant feathers zooming around them. A stuck cat was helped out of a tree.

Fumikage pointed out some gang activity in an alley. Three teens were spray-painting a sunburst and crown on the back of a bakery. The aerial vantage point would take some getting used to, but it was worth the effort.

Hawks sent three large feathers down to apprehend the punks. “I keep seeing more of these clowns.”

 

Kendo finished adjusting her two-toned gold mermaid dress. She was grateful for the side slit and the halter-style top. Yaoyorozu had spent half an hour getting her side tail into a ringlet that resembled the one she’d had in the commercial. It was a nice diversion, and Kendo had given up complaining about dinner parties not being real hero work when Yaoyorozu started telling her about all the things she’d have to look out for, from creepy older men to gossiping servers.

Then Uwabami mentioned the fundraising. “I’m hoping to get a couple of backers together for to start a workshop for underprivileged girls interested in fashion.”

Yaoyorozu nodded. “Got it. If we don’t come up with enough tonight, I’ll call my mom. She’d love to work on something like that!”

 

Asuka circled before joining Glidar on the ledge, leaving the path back to the penthouse balcony open. The teen they had spotted was flushed and sweating despite the cool spring air and whipping wind. He was also in his underwear.

“You okay?” Glidar asked.

The teen shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” he repeated.

“We can help,” she said soothingly. She made no move towards the teen. “What can’t you do?”

“I can’t stop myself. It-it’s too much. I want it. I don’t want it. But I can’t. I can’t.”

“Give me your hand.”

“No. No. No. Then you won’t be able to stop either.”

“I know you’re high. I just want to get you to a hospital. I can help you.”

He shook his head again. “No. No. No. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I want it. I want it. I want it so bad. Can’t spread it. Can’t spread it. Can’t spread it. Can’t spread it.”

One of the partygoers spoke up, “Kaien, come here. This is no way to behave.”  He was spuriously flushed as well.

“Glidar’s net is no contact, Kaien,” Asuka said helpfully. “Just stay still, okay?”

The teen nodded. “Can’t spread it. Can’t spread it. Can’t spread it.”

“I know you heroes mean well,” the man said, “but I assure you that I can handle this.”

The teen inched closer to Glidar.

“Kaien, come inside. I’m not upset. You’re just overwhelmed.”

The teen stared into the reflective lenses that covered Glidar’s eyes. He nodded and said, “Net,” before leaning away from the building and plummeting down two stories.

Luckily, she was ready, and he was lighter than the thief from before.

              

Croc descended slowly, circling the buoy’s line. Fukami drifted down beside him peering into the murky depths. Who spotted it first would remain a mystery, but the pair reacted at the same time; each reaching for the other’s arm.

When their fingers brushed, they glanced at each other. Fukami nodded and sped off toward the pier. She tried to estimate the size of the clam-headed man sleeping on the tightly wrapped bales of what could only be drugs. 

 

Sitting on top of a twenty-foot-tall heart-shaped column of ice, Shoto couldn’t remember the last time he had felt satisfied after training. The sun was setting and he’d have to melt the ice and head in to help with dinner soon, but in the moment, he was content.

Training with his father had always been brutal; always left him exhausted. And angry. But, today, he was almost happy, sore in a good way, and tired enough to sleep well but not pass out.

He chuckled when Bonfire came out to get him. “I’m never coming down. I’m the king of the mountain.”

“Well, I’m the dragon of the mountain, and I’m hungry. Get down here!”

“But if I come down I’ll have to leave tomorrow.”

“Come down and I’ll teach you my favorite combo move.”

Shoto gave no indication that he would come down until water began cascading off the column. Steam rose up around him as he smoothly descended, evaporating the pillar as he went.

“Weather Style: Fog Bank. It starts with Sol or Snow sending out a layer of frost or ice.” She waited for Shoto to make a sheet of ice. “Then I heat the surrounding area, adding moisture to the air. They continue laying on the ice, but we have to keep the temperatures just right. The air temperature and dew point have to be within two-point-five degrees Celsius. A layer of hot air on top, near one hundred percent humidity, and impeccable temperature control by all involved. Beautiful.”

Bonfire began generating heat in an aura. She directed it upward and Shoto’s ice became a thick bank of fog.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, it’s good for covering retreats, and it’s the basis for a suit of field control moves we do. A smooth ice floor and low visibility,” Solstice said. “Come on, you two, time to eat.”

“How do you keep sneaking up on us?”

Solstice laughed and herded the pair inside. “I walk softly; learned it running around in avalanche zones.”

“I’ll have to get Izuku to teach me then.”

 

Minoru folded his new costume into the carrying case. He had felt safe yesterday, staying in the hotel. Probably for the first time since the USJ incident. Safe but useful. He touched the costume. He hated the field but he could spend hours staring at a monitor. Glam and the girls did so much work without being in danger. But without recognition.

Girls will like you if you're likable, being a hero won't help.

He could live with that.

“Hey, Wildfire?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Would you and the girls be disappointed in me if I didn’t want to be a hero anymore?”

“Nah, kid, you didn’t want to be a hero in the first place.”

“I still want to help people, though.”

“That’s good. Yuuei is good about transferring people to more productive departments, so what were you thinking, instead?”

“Support, like you and the girls.”

“Then you actually want business. I’m a licensed image consultant and costume designer. I don’t invent support gear; too hard.”

Minoru chuckled. “Yeah.”

“We’d love to have you for a work-study in your second year, hero course, or business.”

“Th-thank you!”

 

The patrol with Bubble Girl had been uneventful, until the very end. Only his shadow let him know the three men were coming up behind them. He turned, tapping her on the shoulder as he did, only for both of them to get a face full of neon pink dust.

Chapter 46: Blush

Heat blossomed in Izuku’s lungs as he coughed. His cheeks were already hot. The inside of his mouth and nose itched. Head swimming, he wondered if the drug was affecting him this fast because of his quirk. He was suddenly and painfully aroused and very aware of how rough and heavy his hero costume was. He wanted, needed, to take it off. Izuku lifted his hand to pull his hood off.

Only to realize he was being restrained and dragged into an alleyway. “Get off!”

“Not my type, boy.” His assailant’s voice was muffled by a motocross mask. “Luckily, Bubbles won’t care if there’s one more customer.”

Bubble Girl was coated in neon pink dust. Her bare midriff and arms meant she got a higher dose than Izuku, but her mask protected her lungs. As they shoved her into the alley, she muttered, “Too hot, too hot,” and started pulling at her clothes.

“Easy there, baby girl,” the man who was more guiding her than dragging her said. He was covered head to toe in white; suede boots, cargo pants, fur-lined hoodie, latex gloves, and a skull mask. It was very pretty coated in the neon pink dust. “Let us get the camera rolling.”

Bubble Girl shook her head, but she still yanked her mask off. “Need to cool off.”

“Use your quirk!” Izuku snapped. He hoped no one had noticed his shadow tucking under his feet to escape the rough concrete, warn rubber soles, and itching granules. Pushing aside his overstimulation, Izuku tried to break the grip holding him. His limbs felt weak as he struggled uselessly. Worse, the friction seemed to counter act the mounting heat spreading throughout his body. Moaning, Izuku ground against the man holding him. “What the fuck is this shit?”

The man laughed. “You’ve never had Blush before? This’ll be a treat.” The man reached down and rubbed Izuku’s crotch. “Just relax, don’t fight it. You’ll get a turn.”

“Damn, this was easier than I thought,” the cameraman said. “We just have to wait a bit longer to make sure they got a big enough dose.”

“You’d think pro heroes would be more aware of their surroundings,” the man holding her said. He eased his leg in between hers.

Bubble Girl rocked against his thigh with abandon. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Well, she’s definitely ready,” the cameraman said. “Just tie him up, if he doesn’t get the full effect it’s no loss.”

There was a sudden gust of wind and most of the dust was blown away. Skull-face pulled his mask and hoodie off, while Motocross secured Izuku’s wrists with a large zip tie. He shoved Izuku to the ground and shed his own protective clothing. The cameraman remained covered, but it was enough for Bubble Girl.

She flooded the alley with her quirk. As the bubbles bust a musty, sickly smell with an acidic undertone filled the alley. Maskless, her eyes were vulnerable to her own bubbles, but she was no slouch when it came to fighting blind.

“Ah, bitch!” one of them shouted. He was hit with a roundhouse kick.

Izuku struggled passed the pink haze and activated One for All. That gave him the boost he needed to break his bonds. As Bubble Girl fought the other two, he tackled the cameraman. One overpowered hit had him down. Izuku dropped, landing roughly on the cameraman’s back, he ended up leaning against the newly concave bricks; gasping for air and covered in bruises while One for All’s energy dissipated.

Bubble Girl kept the alley filled with putrid bubbles even as the wind user tried to whip them away. She fended the two men off with a varied skill set. Izuku found the mix – mostly Tai Chi, Krav Maga, and Judo, from what he could tell – to be incredibly impressive. Moreover, her mastery of her quirk, even under such adverse conditions was astounding. It made for a very attractive display.

Her blue skin was streaked with a vibrant pink. The crop top that already showed of the underside of her perky breast was riding up. The azure of her nipples was starting to show. If not for the skunk-like stench building as she fought, Izuku would have been tempted to touch himself right there on the back of a villain.

Staggering as though she were slightly intoxicated, Bubble Girl swung a wide and wild right hook at one of her opponents. It connected despite not being able to see. He staggered back, giving her room to breathe. She kept her fists up and kept moving.

The other came in from behind; Izuku’s shouted warning saved her from getting cracked over the head. She hit the man in the sternum with everything she had. He grunted and fell to his knees.

A thud, a loud crack, and the patter of footsteps in the mouth of the alley heralded the arrival of Nighteye and Centipeder. Both men were subdued quickly after that.

“Sir, don’t touch them,” Centipeder warned, taking out his phone. “I think they’ve been drugged. I recognize that shade from the recent alert the police sent us.”

As Centipeder contacted the police, Izuku helpfully chimed in, “Called it Blush, and I don’t know how hard I hit this one. He doesn’t feel squishy so that’s a good sign.”

“Move,” Nighteye instructed.

Izuku stood, shakily. “God, you’re hot when you try to project top energy.”

“Be quiet.” Nighteye bent over the criminal and assessed his injuries. He hissed at Izuku, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t wanna be raped in an alley?” he replied, finding an over-turned trashcan to sit on. “I mean they were just short of explicit about that.”

“Oh! Camera!” Bubble Girl exclaimed, joining Nighteye at a respectful distance. “This one was filming. Not normally a turn-on for me, but then neither is a gang bang.” She paused. “Is anyone else, just really, really hot?”

“Yes,” Izuku said, “and itchy.”

Bubble Girl pulled her top off. “Ah, that’s better. Anyway…”

“Kaoruko-chan!” Both men scrambled to cover her, but she wasn’t having it.

“No, it’s itchy. Just let me give my report, Sir!”

Izuku lost track of what was being said as Bubble Girl’s breasts bounced while she filled them in on what happened, and Centipeder tried to shield her from view from the street. Distracted as he was, he forgot to concentrate on not stripping and shed his hoodie.

“Put that back on,” Nighteye ordered. Izuku wasn’t sure which of them he was talking to, but he still had a shirt on, so elected to ignore it.

“Ugh, Cheshire, you are too young to be that jacked,” Bubble Girl complained. She ran her hands up and down her sides. “Fuck. Surrounded by fine men I can’t touch. So unfair.”

“I feel you. – I’d love to feel you. – Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink.” He thumbed towards Nighteye. “And he is a tall glass of water.”

“Have you seen him without a shirt?” she practically moaned.

Izuku nodded. “Hot damn. I wanna– ” Izuku started to struggle back to his feet.

“Shut up, both of you,” Nighteye snapped. The police and emergency responders were pulling up to the alley.

Centipeder finally got his jacket wrapped around Bubble Girl’s shoulders. “There. Please leave that on.”

“Mmh. It smells like you,” she murmured. She stroked the jacket. “If you taste as good as you smell...”

“Kaoruko-chan, please stop. You are not yourself.”

“Juzo-kun, I know. But I can’t stop.” She licked her upper lip slowly as her eyes tracked him hungrily. “Sorry. I’m just so thirsty right now.”

“There’s a sealed bottle of water in the left pocket,” he pointed out.

“Oh,” she pulled it out. “You are so sweet. I could devour you.”

As the police and emergency personnel approached, Izuku stood up and moved next to Nighteye. The heat that had risen within his body was boiling his blood. He wanted to pay attention to the briefing, to the procedures as the suspects and evidence were turned over to the authorities, but it was all he could do to keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself.

Izuku bit his lip. He took in every detail of Nighteye; tall, slender, firm. He was stern and forthright. His suit accented his lean frame. Everything pointed to him being an absolute top, so Izuku was left wondering why he was fantasizing about pushing the man against the nearest hard surface and fucking him stupid.

“Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?” Nighteye asked. It felt to Izuku like he had had trouble getting his attention.

Izuku shook his head. “Same as Bubble Girl; lower dose, but mostly inhaled, No real physical injuries, but,” he leaned in close – not quite touching – and whispered, “I do have an overwhelming urge to make you beg.”

“Centipeder will ride with you.” A blush spread across Nighteye’s cheeks as he stepped back. Izuku took an abortive step forward before catching himself.

Izuku ran his fingers down Nighteye’s lapel. “Bet your boy toy is an excellent ride, too. I appreciate the offer, baby, but I’d rather it just be you.”

“Ambulance, now,” he ordered, smacking Izuku’s hand away.

“Kinky,” the boy replied with a half smile, but he turned and headed for the nearest one.

“No,” Nighteye assured him, as he followed. “He may need to be restrained.”

“Still kinky,” Izuku said, letting the EMTs direct him behind a barrier, “but a bit presumptuous. You are not as top as you think you are.”

The paramedics snickered. “Strip and put your clothes in that bag. Then step under the shower. Rinse thoroughly.”

The water felt frigid on his overheated skin. Izuku rubbed his cheeks, where the pink dust had hit him, to rinse away the most obvious residue. The chill did nothing for his erection, except sting. He rinsed his mouth and nose until the cold made them numb. Just as he started to trail a hand down to pleasure himself, the water cut off. “Damn.”

He was wrapped in a shock blanket and loaded on a stretcher.

“Hold still, while I get your IV started, kid.”

“‘Kay,” Izuku agreed. He was still and quiet as long as Nighteye stayed in view. When he stepped away to confer with Centipeder, Izuku started squirming and fidgeting. He started scratching his cheeks.

“Don’t do that,” the EMT instructed.

“Itches,” Izuku complained.

“Tough.” The man changed his gloves and applied a cream to Izuku’s cheeks.

“Feels good,” the boy murmured, leaning into the touch. “More.”

“Nope, you’re all covered.”

Nighteye returned and, after a critical gaze, sat next to Izuku. “Behave.”

Izuku nodded, “I tried to stop thinking about you. I failed.”

“Shut up.”

“He probably can’t,” the EMT said closing the doors. “No sense in getting mad at him. He’s actually really mellow for a hit of Blush. We usually see overdoses, and those people are lucky not to die of heatstroke while masturbating.”

“That’s why the IV,” Izuku said. “Damn, this is making me slow. I can’t stop thinking of doing obscene things with your tie.”

The trip to the hospital was short. The ER staff didn’t bat an eye that Izuku insisted that Nighteye be his emergency contact as they took his vitals. He refused the hospital gown, but let them put a sheet over him.

“He’s in charge of me,” Izuku told them with a lopsided smile. “I’m supposed to do what he says, but it’s all ‘no, stop, behave’.” He mimicked Nighteye’s dry responses. Izuku leaned toward him as the nurse took his blood pressure. “With all due respect, Sir: Make me.”

“Cheshire,” Nighteye snapped. “That is enough.” He turned to the nurse. “He has a rapid healing quirk; I would appreciate it if you ran blood tests to see if it affects this.”

“Sure,” she replied. “I’ll get that started while you wait.”

“God my face itches,” Izuku whined as she left.

“At least it’s just your face,” Nighteye replied.

“Ugh. Bubble Girl must be in agony.” He scratched at his cheek.

“Stop that,” Nighteye said.

“Again: Make me, Sir.”

Nighteye’s retort died on his lips as he realized that Izuku had not previously referred to him as ‘Sir’ as the rest of his staff did. He had let it slide before as a result of getting off on the wrong foot. Now, however, he suspected another reason. Nighteye swallowed. “If you call me that again, I’ll have you sedated.”

“Oh? Does that stretch your control? I can help with that…” he leaned toward Nighteye.

“Who taught you about BDSM, Cheshire?”

“Internet.”

“Do not lie to me.”

“I read a couple of books. I know, nerdy. But I think you might like that about me. I’m smart. I learn fast. You could teach me so much.”

Nighteye flinched back – toppling his chair – before Izuku’s outstretched finger could make contact with his nose. He could smell the lingering odor of cinnamon and peppermint. “No.”

“God I could get off to just your voice, begging me ‘please, yes, more,” he sighed, “But I guess ‘no’ will have to do.” Izuku slid his hand down his bare chest. “Come on, tell me to stop.”

Nighteye stepped out of the room.

Izuku growled in frustration. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be good, don’t go.” Izuku waited for a response, his hand still caressing his bare skin.

The nurse returned with supplies to draw his blood. “Think you can stop that long enough for me to get a blood sample.”

“Hmm? But it feels good.”

“I’m gonna need your arm, hun.”

“What’re you gonna give me, beautiful?”

“Lab results,” she replied deadpan.

“Sorry. Is Nighteye in the hall?”

“Do you want me to go get him?”

“Please! Tell him I’ll behave if he comes back.”

Even though Izuku could hear them talking just outside the room, it was still several minutes before Nighteye returned.

“I’m sorry. I –”

“I sent Centipeder to get your phone,” Nighteye interrupted. He tossed the dark grey phone to Izuku, who caught it on reflex. “It’ll give you something else to focus on. Now, let the nurse draw your blood, she has other patients to worry about.”

“‘Kay.” He held his arm out obediently.

The IV tube was removed and two vials were filled up. The nurse took his temperature again. “That’s not good. We’ll get you something to help bring that down. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed. “I feel dizzy now, too. Well, kinda? More lightheaded.”

Nighteye hummed. “You may need to eat something.”

“Oh, yeah. I had jelly packs in my pocket.”

“As soon as they get you in a room, I’ll pop out and bring you something.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll send him up a sandwich, just in case,” the nurse said as she headed out.

“‘m sorry I –”

“Don’t. Cheshire, you have been drugged. You are in a vulnerable state. You are not responsible for your actions right now. I am responsible for your safety. I will make sure no one hurts you while you cannot protect yourself,” Nighteye explained gently. He kept his distance, but he smiled fondly at the boy. “It’s what heroes do.”

“God that’s hot. Your most attractive feature is your kindness; it makes me a better person,” Izuku said. He gripped the rail of the emergency room bed tightly.

“I get the feeling that you’d find anything attractive right now, but I’ll take the genuine compliment buried in there,” Nighteye replied.

Izuku chuckled. “Probably right. But hey, smart is sexy.”

“Shush.”

After a few awkward moments of silence, Izuku picked up his phone. He unlocked it and texted Kurogiri. Hey, I won’t be in tonight. I’m fine. I was hit with a drug called Blush. I’m being held in the hospital for observation. Cuddling with you would be perfect right about now. I miss you.

The reply was quick and short. Were they caught?

Yeah, three dudes, Bubble Girl took down two of them, and I hospitalized the third. I need you so badly right now.

Toki says he will handle them.

They’ve been arrested.

Then they will be easy to find.

Tell him no.

He says if you’re high, you don’t get a vote. Hiki agrees with him. She’s surprisingly territorial.

Bet she’d love how I look right now. Flushed, sweaty, and absolutely desperate.

Izuku eyed Nighteye, wondering if he could snap pictures in front of him. He knew there was no getting rid of him. “Fuck,” Izuku said, stretching the word to its absolute limit; Nighteye only quirked an eyebrow at him. He snapped a picture of his face, checked to make sure it wasn’t too lewd – showed it to Nighteye when he took a step forward – and sent it.

Your chest! And what happened to your cheeks, you said you weren’t hurt.

They itch.

The scratches aren’t healing?

Oh. Izuku looked up at Nighteye. “My quirk isn’t kicking on.”

“Is there something we can do?”

“Usually when the adrenaline goes away, it comes on,” he explained. “If I don’t have enough energy I can’t talk, and I get super sleepy, but I heal.”

“We may have to sedate you after all,” a man said from the door. There was an orderly with a wheelchair next to him. “I’m Dr. Haga, I’ll be taking you up to the second floor now.”

“You smell like lavender.”

The doctor chuckled. “Yeah, with a hint of chamomile. My quirk is Aroma Therapy. I can replicate any scent I’ve experienced. Plus the positive effects are intensified.”

“That is so cool,” Izuku told him. He fixed his sheet around him like a toga, instead of taking the offered hospital gown. Plopping down on the wheel chair he added, “Is it sweat-based or pheromone-based? I’ve seen both.” He double-checked to make sure he had his phone before putting his feet up. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Dr. Haga laughed again. “We’re headed to room two-oh-two, you’ll be across the hall from Bubble Girl.”

“How’s she doing?” he asked.

“She’ll be fine,” Dr. Haga assured him. “I’m more concerned about you.”

“Why? I got a much lower dose.”

“You inhaled it, which causes the effects to peak sooner and also increases the risks associated with use. Side effects typically include increased body temperature, sweating, teeth grinding, jaw clenching, blurred vision, dry mouth, dilated pupils, and nausea. Plus, inhaling it can damage the soft tissue in the nose and throat. If you develop severe side effects, we’re looking at cerebral edema, cardiovascular failure, stroke, seizures, liver or kidney failure.”

“I don’t think I’m nauseous, but my mouth is dry, vision’s a little swimmy, and I’m hot and itchy; mostly my cheeks.”

“Alright, we’ll get you some ice to chew on; I don’t want to risk hyponatremia,” Dr. Haga said as they boarded the elevator.

“An excuse to eat the cheap salt foods,” Izuku said excitedly. “Replenish the salts.”

“Not if we keep them from getting low in the first place,” Nighteye chided. “Salty foods could exacerbate the high blood pressure and tachycardia. Not to mention a host of other issues from junk food.”

Dr. Haga smiled indulgently at him. “So the other thing to look out for is serotonin syndrome, similar drugs often cause it with heavy use or overdose. I think you’ll be fine, but Blush is so new I can’t rule it out.”

They arrived at the room and the chair was barely parked before Izuku was out of it. He wobbled dangerously as he climbed onto the bed. “Careful,” the orderly said. “Now, don’t do that again. I want you to call for assistance if you need to get up for any reason. Don’t want you to crack your skull on the floor.”

“‘kay,” he agreed as he settled in. He rearranged the sheet so he was covered from his knees to his waist. He snapped a picture of his bare feet, and heedless of the mottled blue and red bruising sent it to Kurogiri.

“Lay back, so I can attach the monitor. This’ll keep track of your temperature, heart rate, and blood pressure.”

Izuku frowned at the blood pressure cuff. “That itches and it kinda hurts.”

His phone dinged and he glanced at it. Tomura, in his phone as Dust Bunny, had sent him a picture of their shoe caddy.

“So, about the bruising: what’s it from?”

“Slamming a rapist into a wall,” Izuku said distractedly. That was meant for Kuu.

“I see,” Dr. Haga said, a little mystified. “Well, we’ll get you something for the pain.”

I know, but you’re high, so I don’t care. He sent another picture of shoes; this one was a pile of what Izuku assumed to be every shoe in the apartment.

“I wouldn’t even be worried if my quirk was on.” He looked down at the sensors on his chest. “These itch too,” Izuku replied to Tomura while his head was down. This will be difficult to masturbate to. Difficult but not impossible.

“Well, try not to scratch them; you’ll scare the night shift nurses.”

“I’ll try,” he said a bit poutily.

Tomura sent a picture of his shadow flipping the bird.

Izuku replied, Is that an offer, Toki?

“A nurse’ll be by shortly with your meds, and a cup of ice.”

“Yay.”

He received a picture of the bunny rice scoop setting in the dish rack from Toga, who was listed as Princess.

??? Are you my sexy bunny girl?

We’re out of rice. :(

Dr. Haga chuckled again. “Well, try to get some rest.” He and the orderly stepped out. “Oh, and Sir Nighteye? Visitor hours end at eight, so you might want to see Bubble Girl before that.”

Izuku was sure his glare at the doctor matched Nighteye’s. “If you’re implying that he can’t stay with me, then I’m going to leave.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dr. Haga started to reply.

“Oh, good, it’s just the Blush making me slow again, and you’d never tell a vulnerable minor’s defacto guardian that they can’t stay with them.” He gave the doctor a near-feral grin, the effect was intensified by his blown pupils. 

“The nurses told me you were flirting with him.”

“Did they also tell you he’s not responding to it? That I flirted with them and the paramedics, too? That I wouldn’t let them draw blood until he was in the room? I’m safe and calm right now. Do you think I will feel safe if you kick him out?”

“I’m just trying to look out for you.” He scratched his neck, revealing the edge of a tattoo. It looked like it could have been a starburst or something similar. “Sorry.”

“Nighteye can look out for me. You do medicine at me.”

“I’ll get these orders put in, then.” He wasn’t smiling as he stalked away. Izuku caught a faint whiff of burnt plastic and hot tar.

“Condescending jerk.” Izuku angrily typed out a message in the group chat Toga had started. Stupid DR tried to kick out Nighteye!

That bitch! Tomura replied.

Stab him, Toga suggested.

Do not send any more pictures while you are high, Kurogiri said. Toki just forwarded your last one, and while I appreciate the gesture I do not want you to regret it when you sober up, Love.

Nighteye cocked his head. “I had thought he was nice. What an odd change in demeanor.”

Izuku took a picture of Nighteye and sent it – Still got my bitch – before responding, “Nah, not really. He laughed wrong. When I mentioned his scent, it was nervous. When I said the hyponatremia was an excuse to eat junk food he looked at me like I’m a dumb teenager, rather than someone that knows that hyponatremia means low sodium levels. He flatly ignored my questions about his quirk, and he brushed off my concerns about Bubble Girl. If he’s this worried about the small dose I got, she must be in bad shape. And as it was absorbed through the skin like it’s designed to be she’ll have to endure the effects for longer.”

“That was an impressive analysis,” Nighteye told him.

“Oh, no, go back to the scolding; I was starting to like it.”   

“And it’s gone.”

Izuku laughed. Nighteye laughed with him, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the situation. “See? Your laugh is real. It’s beautiful, like watching flowers open to the soft touch of the morning sun.”

“Wow, he’s a poet,” Centipeder said from the door.

A nurse preceded him. She set a cup of ice and a pre-packaged egg salad sandwich on the tray table. “Okay, this IV has Ofirmev in it. It’s basically liquid Tylenol. It’ll knock your temperature down and take the edge off the pain. The cafeteria is closed, and visiting hours end at eight, but if you pop out to pick something up you can get back in through the ER.”

“Thank you,” Nighteye said with a shallow bow.

“Let us know if you want something, a blanket, a soda, a sandwich, or Jell-O.”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” he popped a piece of ice into his mouth and crunched it. Crunchy water was the best water. It was crisp almost to the point of tasting jagged but it had a smooth and light mouth feel; less milky or silky and more like a soft breeze. There and gone. And this ice was premium, with no added minerals, no plastic taste, and it was fresh, like spring water.

“Okay, kiddo. You’re all hooked up, and running smoothly. This’ll go for about two hours them I’ll be in to check on you again. Here’s your call button, the bed controls are pretty simple, head, feet, whole bed, up and down. Oh, yeah,” she pulled a towel-wrapped bundle out of the pocket of her scrub top, “I brought you an ice pack. Keep moving it around so it’s not in one place too long.”

“Thank you!” Izuku hugged the ice pack as she left. He checked his phone again. Tomura had sent him a picture of his empty spot, Miss you, and a plate of shrimp tempura, Not.

I would lick that peanut sauce off of your fingers right now.

Kuu, Sae is being naughty, Toga sent.

Tomura posted a picture of the lime bin, with the ceramic paring knife in it.

“I’m going to grab food,” Centipeder told them. “What would you two like?”

“Salt and vinegar nori if you can find it, otherwise just any salty chips,” Izuku requested. “I’ve had a craving since Dr. Haga mentioned it.”

A barrage of strange images pinged his phone: one egg, a wine glass full of grapes, a spider in its web, a bowl of chicken livers. Toga joined in and started sending him pictures of the kitchen knives one at a time.

“Bento would be fine, just make sure to bring him two; he will need the calories when his quirk kicks on. If you’re getting hot foods, the usual for me.”

“Fries!” Izuku added.

Centipeder nodded and headed out.

Izuku giggled at the random pictures from Tomura and Toga. Are you going to spank me?

Not while you’re high.

No fun.

Yes, we are all very boring, Kurogiri replied.

Tomura kept spamming him with pictures; until he sent one of the karaoke machine.

Gross, no. “Cock block,” he muttered aloud.

We have a winner! Toga said.

Nighteye gently took the phone and scrolled through it. “Your friends are weird.”

“Hey, give, I’m trying to score a booty call.”

“Correction, your friends are amazing.” Nighteye returned to the end of the chat log. “Karaoke?”

“It’s not the same when you do it,” Izuku assured him. “Want me to sing you something?”

“No.”

“Baby, when I think about you,” Izuku crooned, “I think about love. Darlin’, couldn’t live without you, and your love~.”

“Think about the other patents instead. People are trying to sleep.”

“It’s only seven,” he corrected. “I love to love you, baby. I love to love you, baby. When you’re laying so close to me, there’s no place I’d rather you be than with me here~.”

“Cheshire, stop.”

“That one no good? I take requests.”

“Stop?”

“In the name of love, before you break my heart~.”

“You did say you wanted begging, so please stop,” Nighteye said in an exacerbated tone.

“When I get home, babe, gonna light your fire. All day I’ve been thinkin’ about you, babe. You’re my one desire~.”

Nighteye’s cheeks were red, and he was shaking his head. “Please don’t do this, Cheshire.”

“Lookin’ for some hot stuff, baby, this evenin’. I need some hot stuff, baby, tonight. I want some hot stuff, baby, this evenin’. Gotta have some hot stuff. Gotta have some love tonight. Hot stuff, I need hot stuff, I want some hot stuff, I need hot stuff~.” Izuku set his phone down as he watched the effect he was having, hungrily.

“Midoriya, I will leave.”

He picked the phone back up. “Not a fan of the seventies? It’s All Might’s favorite.”

“I know, he used to sing them all the time,” Nighteye confessed. “Never caring who heard, or what it sounded like.”

“Oh.” Izuku realized why it was affecting him. He grinned. “Your cruel device, your blood, like ice. One look could kill. My pain, your thrill~.”

“Izuku, if I have made one ounce of progress with you please stop.”

“I wanna love you but I better not touch. I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop. I wanna kiss you but I want it too much~.”

Nighteye took a steadying breath.

“I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison. You’re poison, running through my veins~.”

He stepped towards the door.
“You’re poison. I don’t want to break these chains~.”

“I will be with Bubble Girl until Centipeder gets back.”

Izuku’s mouth snapped shut. “No, come on, please,” he begged, “I don’t wanna be alone.”

“I’ll leave the doors open, I’ll be able to hear you if you shout.”

“I’m sorry. Please stay. I’ll stop.” Izuku gestured at the guest chair. “I’ll put the gown on if you stay.”

“You said it was itchy.”

“Everything is itchy, and I’m over-simulated, and the bruises hurt. And I can’t activate One for All because I can’t concentrate right now, so I’m scared and bratty and I’m sorry.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I hate this. I wish I could calm down so my quirk would work.”

Nighteye stood with his hand on the door, his back to Izuku. “Close your eyes. Breathe in deeply. Exhale fully. Listen to your heart beating in your chest. Allow the sound to calm your mind. Allow your mental chatter to slip into the background as you listen to the sounds around you,” he instructed slowly.

The steady beeping of the monitor, the random but soft bloop of his text notifications, Nighteye’s subtly labored breath, his own heart pounding in his ears washed over him. Instinctively, Izuku tried to match the rhythm of Nighteye’s breathing; each breath was slow and measured.

“Breathe in deeply. Exhale fully. Starting with your feet, tense and relax with every breath. You are familiar with that?” Nighteye turned around.

Izuku nodded.

“Good.” He moved over to the chair. “Breathe in deeply. Exhale fully. Inhale cool refreshing air, exhaling hot tense air.”

Izuku arranged himself into the lotus position, resting his hands loosely on his knees.

“Cycle the chi in your body in this way. Breathe in deeply. Exhale fully.” Nighteye sat down and continued to guide Izuku through meditation.

His heart rate slowed. Izuku began to feel relaxed. The IV was only half empty, but between it and the meditation, he was finally getting some relief.

“If Van Gogh had you as a subject, the sunflowers would have gone in the trash,” he said tiredly.

“Stop it,” Nighteye told him. “Breathe in deeply. Exhale fully.”

“Nah, you’re a sunflower. My tall, lean Sunflower.”

“No.”

“It’s perfect actually,” Izuku said. “Sunflowers face the sun, but when they can’t find it they turn to each other.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Nighteye asked really looking at Izuku for the first time in hours.

“We’ll watch him, basking in his warmth, until he’s gone. When that happens we’ll look to each other.”

He was quiet for a long time. “Get some sleep, Midoriya.”

“Sweet dreams, Nighteye. I hope I’m in them.”

“Only my nightmares.”

Izuku burst out laughing, and Nighteye stared at him in bewilderment. “Ha. Yeah, love you, too.” He paused and added, “No flirting there, all the platonics.”

Chapter 47: Staging a Kuu

Kurogiri sighed. “He looked at Stray’s phone.”

“So?” Tomura asked from the couch where he was curetting memes to send to Stray; as a distraction to keep himself from taking out the idiot thugs that had hospitalized his minion.

“I called him Love.”

“Oh,” Tomura sat up, properly distracted, “yeah, that's gonna cause a problem.”

“Or,” Toga butted in, “you could just give him what he's looking for, some random dirty perv taking advantage of a young boy.”

“Good idea, Toga-chan,” Kurogiri replied thoughtfully. “With a slight variation, I think that plan will do nicely.”

A slight variation was just what Tomura needed as well. He didn’t want an attack to be linkable to Stray, but he did want to punish the idiots that hurt him. He could ask Sensei for a more subtle solution.

 

It was nearly eleven, the nurse had come and gone, and Izuku’s blood had been drawn again. He had eaten the two bentos that Centipeder had picked up for him. After getting a little sleep, Izuku’s mouth was dry and he was groggy. It took him a moment to realize that his shadow had curled around him. Luckily, Nighteye had turned the lights down. He gingerly unwound his shadow and sat up.

It was going to be a long night, now that his head was starting to clear. He sat there – head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton – alone with his embarrassment. He’d snapped at the doctor. He’d hit on Bubble Girl. He’d flirted with Nighteye.

The soft bloop of his text notifications reminded him that he wasn’t really alone. He checked the group chat.

Why are we still on here if Sae is asleep? Tomura asked.

He’ll be awake soon, Kurogiri replied.

He better be.

The messages were spread out over the hour or so he’d been sleeping.

He’d flirted with Tomura. He smiled. Tomura had brushed it off like Nighteye had. He’d been right his friends were amazing. Izuku texted I’m up.

Good, Tomura said. We need a prank idea.

Vaseline on the doorknob?

Lame.

Glitter bomb!

 

Yagi looked blurrily at the digital clock beside his futon. He numbly silenced the gradually increasing beeps of the alarm. His tormenters hadn’t given up. He seriously considered moving. One more incident, he promised himself as he heaved his seven-foot-two-inch frame up off the floor.

He stepped cautiously on the Tami mats. He gave a rudimentary search of the small apartment before – very carefully – opening his door. The second his fingers touched the paper he knew what today’s prank was. But it was too late. His hand closed around the rubber-banded bundle in its usual loose grip. He stood helplessly as the natural swing of his long arms flung the glitter around his doorstep.

The sparkly gold glitter was on his hands, his shirt, his pants, the door, the doormat, the entryway, and even the shared walkway. Yagi sighed. He set his paper on the counter grabbed his keys and went to the manager’s office to borrow a broom.

 

It was a simple question but the prospect of asking Sensei after the whole prank debacle. While he waited for Sensei to complete whatever communication he was composing his anxiety built. Tomura scratched at his neck with one hand and gave a little whine of frustration. He gave into the itch and clawed at his neck, bending over in his seat.

“What’s the matter, Tomura?” Sensei asked warmly as he gently pushed the boy’s hands away. “You’ll tear your skin off.”

“I want to do something,” Tomura brought his hands together and put them between his knees, “about the thugs that attacked Stray, but I don’t want it linked back to him.” He began rocking himself minutely as spoke. “I was going to ask your advice, but then I thought you’d probably want me to handle it myself and I’ve been wracking my brain but everything I can think of would require waiting for them to be released, and that won’t be for between six months and two years, because of the attempted rape and assault charges.”

“Breath,” he said soothingly. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to kill them.”

“But not getting caught matters in this case,” Sensei smiled warmly, indulgently at him, “and that’s what’s stopping you.”

“Yes.”

“I could have it handled, if…”

“Anything.”

He leaned into Tomura’s ear and softly said, “My dear, sweet boy, never make that offer to someone who might accept it.”

Tomura blanched at the thought of having disappointed Sensei. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, I know how emotional you can be. I’m just trying to prepare you for the world.”

“I know.” Tomura sat up straight. “Um, so, what would you need, er, want in return?”

“Much better, Tomura,” he all but purred. “You would like three people murdered, I want three people murdered. It doesn’t matter who, it can be literally anyone, but I want it done by the end of the year.”

“Anyone? As long as I do it myself?” Tomura asked to clarify.

“Or have Stray do it, but anyone Stain kills, or anyone killed by Kurogiri to protect you will not count.”

Tomura nodded. “That’s not a problem. Hmm. Not to push the boundaries too much, but what if I had Toga do it?”

Sensei cocked his head and gave the question some thought. “It would not mean as much to me, but I suppose…”

“Nah. I’ll do it myself. I mean, I’ll let you know if Stray does kill anyone, but I don’t want to push him too much. Although, if we find a pro hero that’s using their hero status or persona to hurt kids I think that’d push him over the edge. I’m going to keep having him pick Stain’s targets to help desensitize him."

Sensei hummed and thought for a moment, but in the end, he just replied "Very well," in a warm, indulgent tone.

 

“I’d like to meet your friends,” Nighteye said into the silence thus far only broken by the gentle chik-chik-chik of the train against the tracks.

Izuku paused. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll let them know and we can see about setting something up next time you’re in town.”

“I’ll be in town today. Why wait?” he pressed with a quirked eyebrow.

“Er, well, my friends are… kinda delinquents.” Izuku made a vague motion in the air in front of him, halfway between the signs for ‘shape’ and ‘bad’.

“That’s fine, Cheshire. I’m not looking to arrest them.” He paused. “Also it should be influence, not shape.” Nighteye demonstrated the sign; skimming one hand over the back of the other while opening it.

Izuku repeated the gesture. “We only get together at night, for obvious reasons.”

“School?” he signed as he spoke. Nighteye was a little out of practice.

“Mostly, yeah, but also, my quirk. With me not sleeping much it’s a good use of my time,” Izuku explained.

“I could book a hotel, visit Toshinori-san, and go back in the morning. It’s no trouble,” Nighteye said casually.

Izuku bit his lip. “They need more heads up than that before meeting a strange adult.”

“Something to hide?”

“Trauma,” he said with a rueful smile.

“Oh. My apologies.” He murmured, “I should have realized.”

“Eh. It’s the price of admission.”

“Speaking of,” he began in a bright tone that spoke of a jarring subject change, “have I earned enough ‘friendship points’ to unlock any of your tragic backstory?”

Izuku frowned at him, but it slowly melted into a sad smile. “Sure. Alright. The basics. I was diagnosed as quirkless at five, and shortly after that, my best friend started calling me ‘Deku’. It’s one way to read the last kanji in my name. It stung, but we were still friends. Then one day – we were still little, seven or eight at most – while exploring in the woods, he fell off a log into a little ravine. There was, like, ankle-deep water at the bottom. I rushed down to make sure he was okay and he’s hated me ever since. Early last year – when we were picking our high school options – it came out that I was applying to Yuuei as well, and–” Izuku stopped. He’d thought he was over crying about this, but tears rolled down his cheeks and his throat tightened. “He told me to jump off the school roof and hope to be reborn with a quirk.” It was the first time he’d said it aloud to anyone save Kurogiri and Tomura.

Nighteye looked vaguely horrified. He reached crossed to put his hand on Izuku’s knee or shoulder, but Izuku reached up and took it.

He shook his head. “He apologized after the accident, and we’re close again.”

“I’m sorry, but that is – You can’t heal that kind of emotional damage with one apology.” Nighteye kept a hold of Izuku’s hand.

Izuku chuckled. “That’s what my trainer told me when he gave me his card at the hospital.”

Nighteye nodded. “Good to know someone is looking out for you. Let me know when they’re ready to meet.”

“Will do.” He flashed Nighteye a watery smile.

Nighteye gave him a stern, flat smile in return. He handed Izuku his handkerchief. “In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about them?”

“Okay,” Izuku nodded, collecting himself. “So, Toki-kun is really into video games, Kuu-san is a great cook, and Hiki-chan is really fun to be around. She even started parkour so I’d have a running partner.”

“You’re very close with them.”

“Yeah, they were my first friends, after the fall.” Izuku sat up straighter in his seat. He handed back the handkerchief.

“Is Kuu-san the one that got you the BDSM book?”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed; if he wasn’t naturally expressive he would have blamed it on Blush. “Uh. N-no. Really, I ordered them for my-myself.”

“Cheshire.” With that one word, the air in the train car changed, as if the warm spring air was replaced with something cold and electric. It was the kind of atmosphere that made Izuku eager to please. Nighteye had switched from concerned mentor to hard-edged hero. This was why he had paid for a private compartment. His movements were sharp and precise, his tone firm and commanding. “Don’t lie to me.”

Izuku gaped at him for a moment, wondering where this was last night. “It’s not like that. I swear.”

“Do not lie to me,” Nighteye repeated. His eyes were narrowed in a harsh glare. “He is in your phone as Love.”

Izuku started panicking. His quirk was Foresight, and Izuku didn’t know the trigger condition. What if he’d activated it? There was a sinking moment where Izuku thought the man might know everything. But…

His phone. “Katsudon!” he shouted. “Oh my god! Nighteye! He makes my favorite food! The names on my phone are all jokes!” Izuku shook his head. “You’re going in as Sunflower. I was on the fence, but this seals it.”

“You expect me to believe that? He called you Love, and you are clearly attracted to him. Combined with the BDSM and the obviously fake names, I’m worried, Cheshire.”

“Toki, Hiki, even Kuu have … pasts. We’re just looking out for each other. If somebody messes up, there’s no guilt by association.”

Nighteye arched an eyebrow at him. It was a far more effective tactic than more verbal prodding would have been.

“Look, Kuu-san is trying to help us, but he isn’t a psychologist.” Izuku fidgeted under Nighteye’s stern gaze, and subconsciously made himself look smaller; as if physically regressing to a gangly middle schooler. “He gave me the book because bad BDSM is abuse. And, weirdly enough, it has helped me set boundaries and identify toxic behaviors in my close relationships. It helps me recognize the difference between things that I genuinely don’t mind and stuff I just act okay with because it shouldn’t be a big deal. There is a whole chapter on just consent and a separate one about the line between kink and abuse.” Izuku shifted uncomfortably. The mood whiplash was taking a toll on him. “You know, I used to get in trouble when the other kids bullied me. Teachers called me ‘too sensitive,’ so I stopped telling on them and just cried it out. I stopped telling Mom too, because there was nothing she could do and it just upset her. I learned to take care of myself.” He sat up straight, unhunched his shoulders, and set his feet in line with his hips. “Now, I’m learning to communicate. I get to have preferences, boundaries, take up space, and time. Attention. I’m learning to-to stop curling in on myself. To not flinch every time there’s a hand on my shoulder or I hear a bang. That I don’t have to panic and plan escape routes when I’m alone with three other people.”

All of the cold energy Nighteye had been projecting evaporated. “I –”

“Price of admission.”

“Pardon?”

“Trauma is the price of admission. You wanna meet Kuu? Pay up. What’s your damage?” Izuku wished he sounded less petulant and more calculating, but he couldn’t pull it off in the moment, and it would probably be less effective anyway.

“Well,” he started slowly. It was clear he hadn’t thought about what he would have to give in order to earn this meeting, this trust. “I was by no means a delinquent. My father was quite strict, sparse with praise or affection. My grades were always adequate. My room tidy. Taking out the trash was my job. I only remember forgetting it once.” He rubbed the back of his hand. “Do you know what ‘hot housing’ is?”

“Isn’t it a gardening term?”

“Yes. Or rather, it originated from gardening. It means to educate a child to a high level at an earlier age than is usual. It’s frowned upon in educational circles, as it causes more negative effects than positive. While a child may excel for a time they will burn out more quickly, and are often overtaken by their more well-rounded peers. Socially isolated and awkward. Results driven. Fixated on numbers and probability.” He stopped. “It was the first time I heard All Might’s laugh. It was like seeing color for the first time. I transferred to the hero course a month later. My hand was still in a cast.”

Izuku reached out and took Nighteye’s hand again. “I’ll call him.”

“Not today. I doubt either of us is up to it. I think I’ll just visit Toshinori-san.”

The two of them sat there, Izuku idly rubbing his thumb across the back of Nighteye’s hand.

 

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” Yamada greeted them cheerfully.

“I did actually. I needed to be sure he was free of symptoms.” Nighteye almost gave Izuku a brief pat on the shoulder, but upon seeing the boy tense dropped his hand at the last second.

“Well, thanks for looking after my student,” Yamada replied, ruffling Izuku’s hair. He leaned into the affection.

“Of course.”

“I’ve got three more coming in over the next hour, so feel free to… you know, enjoy the rest of your day.”

Nighteye assessed the dismissal and nodded. “I would like your contact information; I’d like to keep in touch.”

“Oh, yeah, sure thing.” Yamada fished his phone out. He opened an app, and flipped the phone around so Nighteye could see it. “I do a lot of networking so, this is just faster.”

Nighteye scanned the QR code presented to him. A dialogue box popped up asking if he wanted to add a new contact. “That’s very expedient.”

“Neat!” Izuku piped up. “What’s the name of that app?”

“Mobile Pro. It has other features I’m keen on too. They have an automated answering service with custom hold music when they forward a call to my cell or the station. They have a free version where they email you your voice messages as they come in.”

“I’ll have to look into this.”

“Good, they track that kind of thing and if you get a paid plan I get a discount that month.” Yamada gave Nighteye an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“Well, that’s nice.” Nighteye gave a shallow bow. “I should get going, I have a lunch date.”

“Yeah, no worries. Catch you later!”

              

Izuku could hear a cicada from the nearby park as they made their way up the stairs. The afternoon was cooled by a soft breeze that brought the scent of salt air and the last of the cherry blossoms. His keys jingled as he dug them out. The door opened as they were still approaching.

“Izuku! I was so worried, baby,” Inko greeted him as he came in.

“I’m fine, Mom. Nighteye stayed with me all night.” He gestured behind him. “And Yamada-sensei walked me home from the train station.” Flashing a bright warm smile and spreading his arms, he said, “I’m safe to hug.”

Yamada waited out the twenty minutes of hugging and crying on the couch. He sat at the dining table to avoid intruding on the emotional moment the pair were having. “So, um. If you’d like I can set Izuku-kun up with another counseling session.”

“Another?” Inko asked, sniffling.

Izuku jumped in, “Oh, sorry. In all the excitement, I forgot to tell you. My class volunteered to help with the hero course, and during the exercise, I had a little fall –”

“Midoriya.”

“I was fine!” He turned to Yamada. “A couple of scrapes that were healed in no time.”

Yamada grabbed his wrist over the back of the couch. “Please, tell me you’re downplaying this for your mom’s sake.”

Izuku pulled his arm away. “Yeah, okay, there was one cut on my hand. Again, healed in no time.” Izuku’s lips formed a tight line and his eyes flicked between Yamada’s face and the floor.

“If you can’t be honest with me, Izuku, at least talk to the school counselor.”

Izuku turned back to his mother. “I – it’s not. I just don’t want you to worry,” he said in a defeated tone.

“I know, but I’m going to worry anyway,” Inko replied softly. “I tried to stay out of it, to let you handle it on your own when it was clear that you didn’t want my help anymore, but, Izuku, I will always worry about you.”

Izuku looked shocked, then guilty. He settled on a determined expression. “Mom, it’s not that I didn’t want your help, it’s just… it never changed anything and it always upset you.”

“Oh, sweetie.”

“I did agree to more sessions,” Izuku told her. “Apparently, Inui-sensei isn’t satisfied with how Aldera handled my ‘trauma,’ and says I’ve developed ‘unhealthy’ coping mechanisms. I looked it up online, I’m using the recommended techniques for dealing with panic attacks.”

“I think handling everything on your own is the unhealthy coping mechanism Inui was referring to,” Yamada pointed out.

Izuku frowned at him, again. “You and Aizawa-sensei both. Why is a bit of independence so big a deal?”

“We’ve seen what an inability to rely on others can do to a person,” he replied quietly. “You know how protective he gets.”

“Yeah.” He nodded remembering Aizawa chewing out All Might. “But it’s not like I can’t rely on other people; it’s just not logical when I can handle it myself.”

“Wow, that sent me back to second year. No, kiddo, you’re not old enough to handle things alone. I know that rankles to hear, but it’s true. You need to work with parents, teachers, and trainers to learn the skills that go into handling things. Yeah, you can teach yourself to throw knives in one afternoon –”

“That is a gross exaggeration,” Izuku interrupted.

“But, you don’t know how to ask for help, you take on too much responsibility, and you push yourself too hard.”

“I do so ask for help! And I take breaks, I know my limits. I’m fine.” There was a hurt look in Izuku’s eyes.

“My poor little kicked puppy!” Yamada leaned over and hugged him.

“Hey!” Izuku struggled to push the pro hero off him. “Let go.”

“Stop acting like you don’t need coddling. You’re going through so much right now.”

“I’ve got it covered,” he snapped gesturing to his mother.

“Not only did he have a traumatic experience last night, but one of the hero course students… was killed. They were friends.”

Izuku stopped struggling. “Iida.” His eyes welled with tears. “I, I can. It’s not like, like we were close. We only hung out a couple of times.”

“Izuku.” His mother wrapped her arms around him, too. “Baby.”

              

“Toshinori,” Nighteye greeted as he strode up to the Switch Café & Bistro.

“Mirai!”

“I’m glad you came. I was a little surprised.” He led the way into the café. They were seated quickly, and Yagi ordered for both of them. “He’ll have the Brisket sandwich with garlic roasted vegetables and the five cheese macaroni. I’d like the soup and sandwich special, but I will need a to-go container for the soup. And we’ll split an order of the garlic-rosemary fries.”

“Yes sir,” the waitress said jotting down the order.

“Have we met?” Yagi asked.

She bit her lip in embarrassment but nodded. “You were here with your boys – students,” she corrected.

“Ah, with young Bakugo and Midoriya!”

“I’m so sorry if I offended you.”

“No, no. Not at all. I usually order to-go, from the counter. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.” He smiled warmly at her. It was clear that he didn’t remember whatever incident she was apologizing for.

She took the out. “I so rarely work the counter, there’s no reason to.” She bowed again and left to put in their order.

“Have you met any of Midoriya’s other friends?” Nighteye asked bluntly.

“Yeah,” Yagi replied. “Other than Bakugo training with us, Midoriya introduced me to his classmates, and his friend in the support course at the sports festival.”

“But not Kuu?” he pressed.

“Who?”

“His trainer,” Nighteye’s tone was a tad annoyed. Yagi didn’t even know the name, fake as it was.

“Oh. Well, no, I haven’t met him. He seems nice from what little Midoriya has told me.”

“Does Midoriya seem… too close with him?”

“I didn’t get that impression,” Yagi said with a shrug. “But, Aizawa-kun did make a point of telling me that Midoriya is vulnerable to-to being taken advantage of. How did he put it? He has no regard for his own wellbeing, is eager to please, plain looking, and has an underwhelming quirk.”

“I, well, I’m concerned about him.”

“Even after meeting him?”

“I understand, better now, why you chose him. I meant that I share Aizawa’s concerns.” Nighteye hummed. “It would be too much to ask if someone knew anything about where this gym was. Wouldn’t it?”

“Sorry,” Yagi looked sheepish. “I never thought to ask; Midoriya was always so cheerful and hard-working. Perhaps his mother knows?”

“I doubt it. He told me he stopped involving her because he doesn’t want her to worry. Meeting a mysterious man in the middle of the night would cause a great deal of worry.”

“I never really thought about when he was meeting his trainer,” Yagi confessed.

“Well, my unofficial investigation is stymied, for now. I had hoped to at least check out the ‘gym’ before getting an official introduction.”

Yagi nodded. That wasn’t asking too much even if everything was above board. “Oh. Maybe I can help with that.” He pulled out his phone and texted Izuku. Where can I drop off a little ‘Thank You’ gift for your trainer? He was a big help in preparing me for Yuuei. Also, I forgot his name, can you remind me?

The reply was slow. Sorry, this is Izuku’s mother. He can’t come to the phone right now. He is grounded for one week. In a second text she added, He usually meets him at nine or ten in the little park across the street and they go from there. Sorry, I can’t be more help.

Thank you.

“That is helpful; if he hasn’t told them he’s unavailable tonight.”

 

Nighteye sat on the slide of the octopus play structure, Yagi leaned against the wall inside, and Aizawa said he was ‘in the area’ if they needed him. The pair had arrived at eight forty-five and texted Inko to let her know they were waiting to meet ‘Kuu’. She had admitted that she hadn’t actually seen the man, only Izuku trotting across the street to the park, often texting as he did.

They worried that the man wouldn’t show up without a signal, but soon enough a figure approached them.

“Hey,” he said casually, waving to Nighteye. His jawline was obscured by his large overlapping teeth, and his mouth opened wider than seemed necessary to speak. Despite his casual demeanor, his expression was angry. The open hostility put Nighteye on edge until he realized that ‘Kuu’ just had a resting bitch-face. He was wearing running shoes, black men’s yoga pants, and a dark umber sleeveless sports shirt. Nighteye noted that the items were neither cheap nor worn. ‘Kuu’ was apparently a thug of means.

“Hello,” Nighteye replied.

‘Kuu’ ran his hand through his shaggy, tawny hair. “So, I’m Kuu. I’m guessing you’re Aizawa. You’re taller than I expected.”

“I am Sir Nighteye.”

“Oh! How’d Sae’s internship go then?” It was hard to tell from his face, but his tone suggested he was smiling.

“You don’t seem surprised by my presence.” 

“Somebody had to show up eventually.” ‘Kuu’ scuffed the ground with his shoe. “At first I had hoped it’d be his dad, you know? Kinda thought Yamada would show up or that secretary. But hey! You stepped up, that’s something, at least.”

Nighteye narrowed his eyes.

Yagi stepped out. “Um, actually, I’m here too.”

“Tall blonde with health issues, you must be Yagi-san.” ‘Kuu’ looked him up and down. “You’re cuter than I thought you’d be, but somebody has got to start taking better care of you. And let me just say, I volunteer as tribute.”

Yagi blushed and stammered. “I, uh. Um. Well, t-thank you. But, I, I am seeing someone. So, no need for all that.”

“They better start feeding you, Sae gave you a ticking clock, but I'm hearing the alarm.”

“I take care of myself,” Yagi muttered.

“You better not talk like that around Sae,” ‘Kuu’ said, his voice carrying an edge for the first time. “He has a hard enough time accepting help.”

“That’s not true,” Yagi protested. “Midoriya works hard, but he does accept help. He’s an excellent student.”

“More importantly,” Nighteye cut in, “I would like to discuss your inappropriate behavior towards Midoriya.”

“My behavior?” ‘Kuu’ asked. “What have I done that’s so bad?”

“Calling a fifteen-year-old ‘Love’, giving him sex books, meeting teens in the middle of the night,” Nighteye listed out, as he slid down the slide.  

 ”It’s not like I hand out sex books to the kids,” ‘Kuu’ said with a smirk. 

“No, just to Midoriya. He’s special.” He stood and smoothed his jacket.

“In so much that he wouldn’t take it as flirting. His self-worth issues wouldn’t allow it.” ‘Kuu’ stepped over to him.

Nighteye chuckled. “He’s more confident now. Thanks to you.”

“Yeah, love and support does do wonders,” ‘Kuu’ said, adopting a casual posture. “And I wouldn’t want him backtracking because of a misunderstanding.”

“I’m not convinced it is a misunderstanding.”

“You wouldn’t be, hero. Sae found people like him; that don’t fit the mold.” He shook his head. “If they didn’t include Kacchan, I’d be suspicious of All Might and Yagi.” He thumbed at Yagi. “No offense.”

Yagi nodded. 

“All Might is the kind of person that would get away with doing something like that; even if he wouldn’t do it. Sae is too attached to Yagi, for knowing him for such a short amount of time.”

“I assure you that it is completely above board.”

“I know you think that,” ‘Kuu’ said, beginning to pace. “That’s the problem. Your opinion is biased. You work with them. You can’t imagine either of them hurting Sae, but the reality is no one thinks a monster is hiding in their midst.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“Nothing I say will convince you. I care about these kids and their well-being. I was like them when I was young, but there was no one to guide me; only people who took advantage.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Sae’s dad took a job overseas when he was five. Sae has been told, mostly through actions, that he’s worthless. That Kacchan is the gold standard. He hasn’t gotten into trouble yet. If he does, it would likely be to save someone else. And I don’t wanna see him throw his life – his future – away for some piece of trash.” 

Nighteye sighed. “I see. You can’t teach him what he needs to know.”

“I know, but he got himself into Yuuei. They can teach him, and we’ll support him as best we can until he doesn’t need us anymore.”

“He will always need good friends,” Nighteye corrected. He began walking towards the street. “We’ll be in touch.”

"You better," 'Kuu' returned. 

 

Izuku did a set of pushups, squats, and lunges. He lifted dumbbells, used his resistance bands, and did a yoga routine. He’d finished his homework by nine, studied for two extra hours, and read a limited-release All Might Bold Retellings manga. He was restless. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had nothing to do or that he was grounded. He was trying not to think of it as solitary confinement.

Izuku texted Kurogiri. I’m so bored.

My apologies, Love. I had a small matter to attend to, but you have my undivided attention now.

Chapter 48: Training of the Dead

On the first day back, Izuku had intended to quickly drop Bakugo off at his classroom, but then he saw the little memorial for Iida. It was just a small picture and a little vase of yellow chrysanthemums and lilies. A few envelopes were stacked neatly to one side.

Without a word, Izuku sprinted to the nearest vending machine. He rushed back and placed the offering on Iida’s desk. The bright little can of orange juice was only eighty yen, but it balanced the memorial while personalizing it. Izuku smiled sadly.

“Here,” Yaoyorozu said. “I made a bag of armbands for your class, as well. I don’t know if any of you were close to Iida, but… here.” She held them out as tears welled in her eyes.

Izuku took the bag and hugged her.

From his seat, Bakugo swore. “Fine, I’ll wear the damned thing.”

 

Minoru trudged to the office, unwilling to see his classmates’ – former classmates – disappointed and pitying faces. He wasn’t sure if he’d even be allowed to transfer courses but he needed to at least try. He was so scared. If a hero student like Iida – tall, smart, well trained, from a hero family no less – could be killed so easily… he didn’t stand a chance. “Um,” he stood on his tiptoes to see over the counter, “Excuse me?”

 

Inui was at his desk, reviewing his notes as Izuku settled on the couch. “You’ve been through a lot. What would you like to talk about today?”

“I don’t know,” Izuku replied. “I wasn’t that close with Iida. I hung out with him, like three or four times. I don’t think I was traumatized by the Blush incident, just embarrassed. I flirted at Nighteye.”

“Let’s talk about that,” Inui said.

“Zero out of ten; do not recommend.” Izuku shifted uncomfortably. “It was hot and itchy. I got overstimulated pretty quickly, and I felt weak.” His cheeks flushed. He stared down at his feet. “One of the men touched me.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I – I was rubbing against him, and asked what it was, he grabbed my crotch and said I was in for a treat.” Izuku started crying. He shook his head. “He bound my wrists and shoved me down. I wasn’t even scared.”

“That’s the drug. You were drugged.” Inui had moved to sit on the coffee table. He made sure Izuku had ample space.

“I slammed him into a wall.”

“Good.”

“He was hospitalized.”

“Good,” Inui repeated. “You defended yourself.”

“All I could think about was sex.”

“Everything you felt is a normal effect of Blush. It’s a hell of a drug, and it’s terrible that you had to experience that, but nothing you did was your fault and none of it was out of line. You survived a dangerous and terrible situation.”

Izuku squirmed in his seat. “Can… can I have a hug?”

“Yeah.” Inui leaned over, resting his chin on the top of Izuku’s head. He put one arm around the boy’s shoulders, giving him a clear exit if he wished to disengage. “You’ll be okay. You’re safe now.”

 

Kato sat impassively as the ‘transfer’ student introduced himself. It annoyed him that they had to wear uniforms because he couldn’t get very much information from their attire. A lot of them didn’t bother with accessories, especially the guys, and his fellow first years hadn’t had theirs long enough to develop any wear and tear. His quirk – Assessment – allowed him to see the monetary value and condition of an item. Well, of all items, constantly.

The short boy from the hero course bowed and took the seat next to him. His supplies were disappointingly mundane; everything would have been new at the start of the year. None of it was terribly expensive or cheap, nothing was unusual in any way.

“Fortunately for Mineta-kun,” the teacher said, “we should be in the same place as the hero course for the basics: math, science, English, literature. Unfortunately, he will be behind in the occupational course and need to pick a specialty track quickly. Just sit in on which ever sounds interesting today, and we can talk about it after class. Oh, that reminds me, Mineta-kun, unlike the hero course the rest of the school only has six periods, so you’ll have more time in the future for clubs. For the time being, I expect you to use that time to get caught up. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a lisp.

“You don’t need to call me ma’am, Ebana-sensei is fine.”

“Yes, Ebana-sensei,” he corrected.

 

After lunch, Shinso and Izuku were sent to the hero course for a ‘special lesson’. Shinso took his seat, the same as before, but Izuku found the seat behind Bakugo empty. His gut twisted at the fact that Stain took out two potential heroes from this class. Maybe it was for the best, he couldn’t guarantee their safety. Maybe he was just pissed that it was Stain. He sat down behind Bakugo without fanfare.

Aizawa came in with four strange students trailing after him. The school uniform was nondescript and basic; just navy blazers over a white dress shirt, dark red tie or bow, light grey pants or skirt, black socks, and brown loafers. Izuku couldn’t place the school, which meant it wasn’t one of the top ten.

“It’s a little sudden,” Aizawa explained, “but for our next hero exorcise, four hero-class students from Isami High School will be joining us as special guests.”

The class cheered, although they may have been more subdued due to the loss of their vice rep. they quieted immediately when Aizawa activated his quirk.

He turned to the visitors. “Introduce yourselves.”

“Yes,” the business-like girl replied with a nod. “We’ll be running the exercise with you today. Isami High School, hero class, Kashiko Sekigai.” She smiled brightly at them and gave a little nod of greeting.

“Same class. I’m Dadan Tadan,” the heavyset boy said nervously and bowed. “Pleasure to meet you.” His hands were oversized for his body, making Izuku think that he might have some sort of strength or strike-based quirk.

“Fujimi,” the other boy practically growled, but his voice was quiet. He scowled and glared.

It immediately pissed Bakugo off and Izuku wasn’t sure he would have the emotional space to redirect the bombastic blond. He looked at the white orchid Yaoyorozu had placed on Iida’s desk. It made sense to replace the chrysanthemums with something potted that would last, and it freed up space for the class’s offerings. Iida would have liked it.

Izuku took a steadying breath. He leaned forward and whispered, “Ignore him, Kacchan. Guys like that are always compensating.”

The moment the fourth student stepped nervously around Sekigai-san, Asui leaped out of her seat. “Habuko-chan!” She hugged the snake-headed girl. Her shaggy mop of bright red hair framed her expressionless face as the pair embraced warmly.

“Tsuyu-chan!” she chirped happily.

Fujimi growled, “Mongoose! Don’t get all friendly with these Yuuei guys.”

“What did you just say, you Isami shit-baby?” Bakugo snapped.

“Kacchan!” Izuku reached forward and swatted him. “Bad.”

“Don’t fucking hit me, shitty nerd!” Bakugo whirled on him. He had flipped from annoyed to enraged.

Izuku flinched and apologized on reflex. “Sorry, Kacchan.” He curled in on himself presenting a small target, instinctively protecting his vitals. His posture projected weakness and defenselessness.

“Why don’t you both shut up,” Aizawa said, dryly. “It’s time to go. Change into your costumes and make your way to ground omega.” When he saw Bakugo and Fujimi glaring at each other he added, “Yaoyorozu, guide the Isami students.”

“Yes, sir.” Yaoyorozu stood and bowed. “Please, follow me.”

The four students fell in line behind her, Fujimi reluctantly.

“Sorry, I hit you, Kacchan.”

“Shut up, you already apologized. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it is. What I did was wrong. I shouldn’t treat you like that.”

“Dude, you’ve punched him before. How is a little tap bad?”

“It’s the tone,” Izuku replied solemnly. “When I punched him it was from in front of him so he could see that coming and I was treating him like an equal. This was belittling him; he’s not a naughty puppy and I’m not his mother.” He turned to Bakugo. “So, Kacchan, I apologize for hitting you like that. I’ll try to be more respectful in the future.”

Bakugo slugged him in the gut. “I said shut up, shitty nerd.” He pushed passed the crowd of his classmates and stomped to the changing room.

Izuku grimaced and rubbed his abdomen. “Fuck. He’s really pissed.”

“I think apologizing made it worse,” Shinso pointed out.

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed, “but …” he hummed and shrugged. “I’d rather he be mad that I’m apologizing unnecessarily than leave him believing I think he’s weak or lesser.”

“Why would you care what that delinquent thinks?” Fujimi snapped as they entered the changing room. “He clearly bullies you. Can’t believe he’s the top student.”

“Yeah, he’s really smart and dedicated. Oh, but, no, no, no. Kacchan is my brother, he’s not bullying me,” Izuku corrected.

“Anymore,” Shinso piped up.

“I…” Izuku took a breath. “It’s a back and forth; sibling stuff.”

“Yuuei has gone downhill,” Fujimi growled.

“Still good enough to keep your ass out,” Izuku remarked. “Now, please quit being a jealous little bitch. I’d like to have some self-respect when kicking your ass at whatever exorcise the teachers have planned.”

“What did you say?”

“Oh, no. He’s developed sudden hearing loss,” Izuku said sarcastically. He turned a dark glare on the visiting student. “Don’t start shit if you can’t take shit.”

“If you’re going to start a fight, start a fight you can actually win,” Bakugo added. He was finishing securing his gauntlets.

“I’m sorry,” Tadan said nervously as he made his way to his costume case. “Fujimi says a lot of nasty things, but –”

“And that’s not your fault,” Izuku replied with a sunny smile. He pulled his shirt off. “Don’t apologize for someone else.” Izuku pulled his costume out. There was a note from Hatsume about a new feature. He’d told her and Shinso about his run-in with Blush, and Mei being the support gremlin she was had got to work immediately. He suited up quickly and passed his hand over the mask. A tiny catch had been installed in the new, slightly more steampunk, green cat-themed half-mask. A charcoal gray filtration screen slid over his mouth and chin.

He took a few experimental breaths before looking himself over in the mirror. Mei had taken the opportunity to subtly alter his costume. The hoodie was now leather with brass rivets studding the intersections created by the color blocking. The black of the sleeveless undershirt and hakama pants had been lightened to the same charcoal gray as the filtration screen. The shin guards, boots, and gloves got the rivet treatment too. Izuku frowned at the loss of the shared color scheme.

“Looking good, Cheshire,” Bakugo said. “You should ditch the orange, though. It’s too flashy for that underground shit.”

Izuku looked away. “We matched,” he muttered.

“The original illustrations from Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland was of a brown tabby,” Bakugo said. “I think you should lean into that: the normal being slightly off, becoming unsettling; and the disappearing thing. Besides, we’d still match that way. Charcoal is a shade of black like brown is in the orange family.”

Izuku flipped up the filter. “Thanks, Kacchan.”

Turning he took in the visiting boys' costumes. Fujimi was a disappointing long, black double-breasted coat with a high collar and thick gray cuffs with an obvious system of red tubes, nozzles, and a transparent purple mask over his nose and mouth. He had some kind of gas quirk and wasn’t immune to it. Interesting.

Tadan was in a yellow, green, and blue mech suit with red gloves and a monocle with a targeting sight on it. There were what appeared to be missile bays on his knees, chest, and stomach. Izuku updated his guess to the boy having a quirk relating to either tech or explosives, probably creating missiles.

 

“Is everyone here?” Shota asked, quickly counting his nineteen students and the four visitors gathered outside the gate to the sprawling forest that was Ground Omega. “Today’s exercise will be observed by myself and one other person.” He sighed.

“Attention!” All Might called as he fell from the sky. He crashed to the ground throwing dust and small rocks up around him. “Like a special guest, I am here!”

While his students lit up and stood taller, every time they saw the big goof; the visiting students were gobsmacked with awe. They practically had stars in their eyes. Even the sour one was excited to see the Symbol of Peace.

“So, about our little exorcise: we’re going to have you all go through some survival training!” he paused to allow the students to speculate about what that meant. Kaminari wasn’t far off with his guess that it was going to be a Battle Royal. “Let me explain!” All Might activated the holographic screen he’d brought with him. “With four students per team and six teams overall, you will start at predetermined positions. There is only one objective: to survive!” He gestured dramatically as he explained. “To run or fight, anything goes! Victory will go to the last surviving team.”

Shota cut in with actual rules, “If you run into another team and manage to bind your opponents with this capture tape,” he held up a roll of the tape, “you can make them combat ineffective. This should be a familiar item.”

“Now, let’s announce the teams!” All Might took over. “Team A will be Cheshire, Red Riot, Pinky, and Ground Zero. Team B is Earphone Jack, Chargebolt, Creati, and Mindjack. Team C is Tailman, Froppy, Tsukuyomi, and Tentacole. Team D is Sugarman, Cellophane, Can’t Stop Twinkling, and Anima. Team E is Frostburn, Uravity, and Invisible Girl. And finally, Team F is Sensor Girl, Lucky Strike, Mongoose, and Zomaster.”

“All teams, move to your start areas. The exercise will begin without warning in five minutes,” Shota told them.

“Make sure you survive!” All Might said clenching his fist enthusiastically.

“Yes, sir!” the students chimed back.

Shota shooed them through the gate. Once alone with All Might he led the number one pro hero into the base of one of the observation towers built into the wall surrounding ground omega. “Come on, the elevator is slow but we have time, and you can relax a little.”

“I think I should stay in this form, while the Isami students are here, just in case.”

“Suit yourself,” he replied with a shrug. “We can take the stairs then. I don’t see the point in wasting your very limited time when no one can see us, but it’s your quirk.”

“Seeing All Might’s assistant in All Might’s suit would be suspicious.”

“Just take the jacket off and no one will be able to tell.”

“Oh. Okay then.”

Shota veered to the elevator.

 

“I’ll take them all on myself!” Bakugo declared when they reached their team’s marked starting position.

“An interesting strategy,” Izuku said. “The rest of the team wouldn’t be disqualified if you were caught. And without a time limit, beating the other teams appears to be the only win condition.” He began muttering strategies for defeating the other teams.

“Shut up, Deku. I don’t need your help.”

He looked up, surprised. “I wasn’t offering it? I was going to follow you at a safe distance and let you bulldoze your way through any unprepared or weak teams we come across.”

“Isn’t that kind of mean, to use Bakugo like that?” Kirishima asked.

“No? It was his idea, even if he phrases it in a selfish way. He wants to win. His team winning means he wins. He’s offering to act as a scout and tank damage so we can swoop in and play clean up.” He smiled warmly at them. “Aizawa-sensei talked in terms of teams:  If we run into another team, opponents plural. If Kacchan gets captured, we’re allowed to rescue him.”

“Are you sure?” Ashido asked.

“That makes sense,” Kirishima said.

“If I’m wrong they should have specified that once an individual is captured, they are considered ‘combat ineffective’. Instead, he said that once you capture them you can make them combat ineffective.”

Bakugo nodded. “Fine. Not that I’ll need rescuing, but I’m glad you’ll stay out of my way.”

“Wouldn’t sitting back and letting the other teams duke it out be better, though?” Ashido piped up.

“Yes and no. If you could depend on the other teams to start fights and take each other out, sure. But we’ve got Kacchan, and no long-range sensors like Jiro, Shoji, or Dark Shadow.”

 

Shota and Yagi stood in the front of the observation deck. The windows displaying the closed circuit camera footage of each starting point as well as the stunning view of miles of forest-covered mountain.

“Five minutes have passed,” Shota observed idly.

“So no teams have started moving. Aizawa-kun, are you okay with such a boring exercise? Even though we have the Isami students as guests?”

“Between the time of year and what happened with Iida, energy, and tensions are running high. Reminding them of patience and self-control is important.”

“Well, you’ve got a point…”

There was an explosion in the distance. On the monitors, Bakugo was flying through the forest.

“… but not everyone is like that,” Yagi said excitedly.

 

Izuku took note of the cameras as they ran through the woods, keeping Bakugo just in sight. Bakugo was purposely drawing attention he slammed to the ground and exploded back into the air. The vibrations would obscure Jiro’s ability to track them, and he would draw the attention of any other scouts.

The first group of fish lured in was team B. Jiro was still clutching her ears when they ran passed. Izuku paused to bind her wrists with the capture tape. Kaminari was tangled in a net clearly created by Yaoyorozu; Ashido wrapped the capture tape around him.

“Remember, Shinso is in this team,” Izuku said into his comm.

“I know!” Bakugo growled back. “Shut up!”

As the group caught up to Bakugo, he was delivering his usual opening brutal right hook. Yaoyorozu rolled to the side while producing a quarterstaff. Shinso’s capture weapon zipped toward Bakugo’s back.

“Dodge left,” Izuku snapped.

Bakugo launched himself up and narrowly avoided the seeking grey ribbon.

“You handle Shinso, I’ll keep Yaoyorozu busy. And I’m turning your comm to mute. You’ll be immune to his quirk.” Izuku pulled out his collapsible staff.

Bakugo grinned and turned to the source of the capture weapon. “I’m going to enjoy beating the shit out of you, Brain Fucker!”

Izuku hoped that Bakugo would actually need to hear Shinso to be affected by his quirk. It didn’t work over electronic communications so either it was something else that required proximity or was transmitted audibly. If Bakugo got brainwashed Izuku would have to look into the possibility of Shinso’s quirk having a telepathic component. However if –

Something tingled in the back of his neck and he lunged forward and rolled. When he came to his feet, Yaoyorozu was circling him.

“It’s arrogant of him to think he can do this by himself but I thought you were smarter than this.”

Izuku laughed. “I am.”

Ashido tackled her from behind. “Sorry, Yaomomo!” She wrapped the capture tape around her.

Bakugo was growling and swinging wildly as he batted Shinso’s capture weapon away. Shinso taunted him to no avail. Even when Bakugo responded, having read Shinso’s lips, he remained lucid. Shinso looked shocked and froze for a moment. He recovered in time to dodge a devastating blow and must have realized that Bakugo was wearing the noise-canceling communicators.

“Couldn’t take me on yourself, could you, Izuku?”

Izuku smirked as Bakugo socked Shinso in the jaw and wrapped the capture tape around his head and arms. “What works?”

“Teamwork,” Shinso drawled as Ashido and Kirishima shouted.

“Weak-ass extras.” Bakugo was off again, this time on foot.

“Comms back on. Don’t try to ditch us, Kacchan.”

He tisked. “I don’t need you.”

“It’s a team exercise, Kacchan.”

“What is he saying?” Kirishima asked.

“The usual: he doesn’t need us, stay out of his way, he’s a strong independent hero that don’t need no backup.”

Bakugo proved those words correct, as when they caught up to him again he was finishing securing Team C. They were tangled in the trees with the capture tape and Asui’s tongue. Dark Shadow peeked miserably out of Tokoyami’s collar. When he spotted Izuku, he ducked back inside.

“Awe, hey Dark Shadow,” Izuku cooed. “Don’t take it too hard, Kacchan kicks my ass a lot. There’s no shame in it.”

Dark Shadow brightened up and cooed at him. “Green boy is nice. Pretty.”

Izuku blushed. “Heh. Um, cool. Cool, so sweet,” Izuku said sweetly carefully moving closer, “and so, so useful.  Can you tell me which way another team is?”

“But then green boy will go away.”

“If we finish quickly, we might play again. There’s a chance we could be on the same team.”

“Blasty is quick.”

“Don’t help them,” Tokoyami said.

“Why not? You lost; you don’t have anything more to lose. If you help, we’ll even let you down.”

With a sigh, Shoji said, “The Isami students are about a hundred meters away, on that hill.”

Izuku grabbed Bakugo as he turned to take off towards them. “Hey, Kacchan, wait until we get them down. Then circle around behind them. Sensor Girl is likely watching us, or was watching them.”

“Fine,” Bakugo growled. “Don’t give me orders.”

“I’m not. I’m just making suggestions.” After a pause, he added, “With confidence.”

Instead of responding, Bakugo stood glaring up the hill as Izuku, Kirishima, and Ashido lowered Team C. They adjusted the capture tape to allow them to sit comfortably.

“I’d just put it around your wrist or something, but Aizawa said we had to ‘make you combat ineffective’.”

“It is understandable,” Tokoyami said. “You play to win.”

Izuku smiled warmly. “Don’t we all?”

“Deku,” Bakugo said sharply. “You take the extras around, I’ll hit the front.”

“Watch out for ranged attacks,” Izuku called as he took off up the hill. He turned to his remaining teammates. “Right. We should get out of the line of fire.” He led them around to the side of the hill.

A piercing whistle sounded, followed quickly by a long series of explosions. The sound cut out as the decibel level exceeded harmful amounts. Kirishima and Ashido covered their ears.

Izuku watched as the hill was bombarded by missiles. The Isami students didn’t wait for the dust to settle before heading into the strike zone. He began stealthing across the bare hill, to get behind them. That they didn’t react to him, or Kirishima and Ashido told him that either Sensor Girl could only monitor in one direction or …

“I’m only seeing the one target, but I think he’s unconscious.”

“G-good,” Tadan said. “That Bakugo is intense.”

“But where did his team go?” Mongoose asked.

“Right here,” Izuku said. He looped a length of capture tape over her like a garrote. Instead of tightening it around her neck, he lowered it to her elbows.

“Fuck!” Fujimi shouted. The reddish tubing began to fill with a pink mist.

Izuku let go of Mongoose, in a panic, and kicked Fujimi in the face. His facemask shattered under the blow.

Tadan turned to, presumably, fire a volley of missiles at them, but Kirishima and Ashido tackled him to the ground. Ashido melted the fiberglass shell as Kirishima grappled his arms.

Sekigai shouted, “Fujimi, no!”

But it was too late. The mist discharged from the nozzle.

“Fujimi, you idiot!” she said as she covered her mouth.

Heat blossomed in Izuku’s lungs and cheeks. The inside of his mouth and nose itched. His head swam. He coughed. And the newly installed filtration system activated. The charcoal gray filtration screen slid into place and the lenses in his mask displayed air purity. Hatsume had set it to react to very low levels of particulate matter; anything over the moderate level would set it off. The level shot up from one hundred to three hundred to five hundred and then it just flashed ‘WARNING’.

The dominant red text brought Izuku out of his panic attack. He took a deep, filtered breath. Izuku punched Fujimi in the mouth. His skin was turning white and chalky. His eyes were solid black. Fujimi moaned and his quirk fired off again. Izuku wrapped the capture tape around him.

Other moans joined Fujimi’s. Izuku looked around. The other Isami students were also pale and groaning. Tadan was loosely wrapped in capture tape, but Sekigai was completely free and staggering toward him. Kirishima and Ashido were beside her just as pale. A panic – almost foreign to him as if originating from somewhere other than his usual anxiety – prickled at the back of his neck. Spurred by a voice he couldn’t quite hear whispering in his ear Izuku ran. Away from the toxic pink mist. Away from the heat swirling in his body. He headed for the wall; for the teachers. Green lightning crackled over his body; pulsing on and off with the wild beating of his heart.

 

“That gas,” Shota said, “I read the Isami students’ data sheets and it’s a troublesome quirk. We should stop the exercise.”

“No,” Yagi said confidently. His confidence dwindled as he continued, “This situation can be called a survival situation. … Is what I want to say, but maybe you’re right.”

Shota nodded and flipped on the PA system. “Attention students, this exercise has been temporarily suspended. Please make your way to the gate. Avoid the pink gas, it is not harmful but will incapacitate you. Students affected by this gas will be in a zombie-like state for the next hour.”

 

Trees whipped past him. The smell of pine was the only thing that stopped the branches from becoming the spindly ginkgo trees that lined most of the streets in Mustafa. He tripped over a root in his blind panic. Brown earth, blue sky, and finally his vision was consumed by pure white. Izuku pitched forward, seeing the ground again, and vomited. He took ragged gasps in between contractions of his stomach. Blessedly, the filter had flipped up on its own.

A comforting, large, warm hand settled on his back. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” Yagi said softly as he rubbed Izuku’s back. “It’s not dangerous.”

An impulse hit Izuku. He was too hot. His costume was rough and heavy. He wanted, needed, to take it off. Izuku lifted his hand to pull his hood off.

Yagi’s hand gripped his wrist. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“It’s… it’s not blush.”

“No. It’s not blush. You’re safe.”

Izuku tucked his head under Yagi’s chin. “My mouth tastes … sour.”

“We’ll get you upstairs and a drink of water.”

“Okay.”

 

Shota watched as the pink gas flooded the woods. His students fled to high ground. They worked together to protect each other. Koda was calling and sending out birds to check on the infected. Todoroki kept throwing up walls of ice to impede both the mist and the infected up the hill. Ochaco floated a large chunk of ice to stay on once they reached the top. Sero used his tape to lift his classmates up to the airborne iceberg. Aoyama used his laser to guide it to the wall.

The replay of Midoriya running blindly through the woods drew his attention. He could feel the squeeze of Stray’s shadow. Gorgeous. He batted away the intrusive thoughts. Now was not the time to relive his trauma.

 

“I can’t believe you broke my mask,” Fujimi complained as he entered the nurse’s office.

“Fuck you,” Izuku spat.

“Be nice to our guests,” Recovery Girl chastised.

“No. He sprayed us with discount blush, he can fuck right off.”

“We’re sorry to have caused –”

“I told you not to apologize for other people,” Izuku cut him off harshly. “Fujimi needs to learn to control his quirk better.”

“It would have been fine if you hadn’t kicked me.”

“It would have been fine if you hadn’t gassed yourself.” Izuku turned to Recovery Girl. “I’m fine now, can I leave?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. She sighed but was interrupted before she could respond.

“I’ll walk you to the gate, Midoriya,” Inui-sensei said softly.

“Yeah, okay. But I’m grounded this week so I’m only allowed to stay after to work with Hatsume in the support department.”

“Maybe you three can make patient zero a better face shield,” Bakugo growled. “We would have won if not for him.”

“Yeah,” Izuku replied quietly.

Once he and Inui were out in the hall, Inui asked, “How are you feeling?”

“It was a pretty bad panic attack. I don’t even remember kicking him; just pink and running.”

Inui nodded. “That’s understandable. It’s okay.”

“Yeah, I get that. I’m still rattled, but I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I didn’t hit on anyone.” A long silence stretched out between them. “I guess this means I was traumatized by Blush, after all.”

“You have every reason to be. And we’ll get you through this.”

“Thanks.”

Chapter 49: Hard Time

Monday night of his weeklong grounding was going slowly. Flashes of pink and tree branches plagued the edges of his vision. He tried to keep himself busy, his mind occupied.

Izuku slid the book back on the shelf after finishing it. He flopped down on his bed. Turning his head to the side so he could breathe he willed the hours to creep by just a little faster. Still, the clock ticked on in its slow, measured precision.

Sighing, Izuku rolled onto his side. He stared listlessly at his collection of All Might figures. They used to inspire him. Their value had been secondary to the rush of joy he got when he looked at them. Izuku remembered his mom bringing home the Beach Attire figure from the Twenty-fifth Anniversary One-eighth Scale collection, the day it dropped in stores. It was the most expensive piece he owned; the rest of his figures were prize figures and Nendoroids.

The Retro Silver Age Three-point Landing Pose figure appeared to have a smudge. Izuku hauled himself up to go wipe it off, only to find that it was a factory defect. The paint from the hair had bleed onto the cape. It was too bad; prize figures rarely increased in value and an error like that would tank the resale price.

It was a cool and dynamic pose, though. Izuku looked it up on the manufacturer’s website and ordered a new one. It didn’t matter that his dad had sent this one up from Fiji four birthdays ago, it wasn’t region specific and it had been in place of a birthday phone call so it didn’t exactly have a happy memory attached to it anyway.

Izuku decided to go through the rest of his collection for errors. It was a good way to make room for other heroes. He could sell or donate anything that didn’t make the cut. At least it kept him busy for a few hours.

 

Izuku woke up, stretched, and looked at the clock with false hope. It was only two in the morning. He sighed. He’d hoped for three hours but it had only been one. Tuesday was gearing up to crawl as slowly as Monday had.

I am so bored, he texted Tomura

And yet you’re taking this ‘grounding’ thing seriously.

I lied to Mom, he replied in earnest.

So?

Do you lie to Sensei? he asked genuinely curious. He couldn’t imagine lying to him; the mere thought made his skin cold.

So Izuku was not surprised by the immediate answer, No.

Why not?

He’d be disappointed.

Same thing.

I don’t think it is. Sensei has a quirk that lets him detect lies. He’d be disappointed that I forgot that, or was trying something so stupid.

Oh.

Try to get some sleep, we’re headed to bed.

I’ve done that already, but goodnight.

With nothing else to do, he began cleaning his room; not that it was that dirty. He swept, mopped, and beat his All Might rug out on the balcony. Then he washed the walls and ceiling. It was still only four. His mother wouldn’t be up until six.

He sighed and started organizing his clothes. He found a few All Might shirts that were too small that he had been hanging on to and set those aside to donate.

 

“Quick round of Smash or Pass?” Tachibana suggested.

“Shouldn’t we be studying for finals?” Suzuki asked, adjusting his memorial armband.

“He’ll be here in like five minutes,” Aki pointed out.

“Flash rounds?” Izuku suggested, happy to have some entertainment. He was doing a handstand on his chair. At first, his classmates had been impressed, but after ten minutes they were largely over it.

“Regular rounds, no classmates. That way if we don’t finish the round no one will be obligated to play next time,” Ariyama decided.

“Sure,” Tachibana agreed. “That seems fair. Who’s playing?”

Suzuki was a surprise player, but the group was still small.

“So, I’ll go first and we’ll go clock-wise, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Ariyama agreed.

“Cementoss.”

Most people passed, but Izuku found that he was not the only one to smash.

“Ishiyama-sensei is so chill. He would take such good care of you,” Kinu Ubukata said softly. Her small plush panda phone charm was pacing back and forth on her desk, as school was one of the few places she could strengthen her quirk.

“Power Loader,” Izuku said.

Shinso was with him, and most of the other players, in the smash category.

Aki frowned. “I know it’s shallow, but I don’t like short guys, and his posture is atrocious.”

“Vlad King,” Shinso said as Yamada-sensei walked in.

His usual apologies die on his lips as he gasped, “Oo, tea!”

The ratio was more even this time.

“He’s thick,” Kazama said defensively as Izuku lowered his feet to the floor and took his seat. “I already passed on All Might for being massive. An armchair is just as bad as a sofa.”

“Oh my god,” Yamada said, “Never change.”

 

“You’re only four weeks behind,” Kato said encouragingly. “And you basically have a free period to catch up with. We’re only on chapter seven in the textbook, the reading shouldn’t be that hard.”

“I don’t know which track I want to go into,” Minoru complained.

“Well, Costume Design has a sewing and drawing requirement. Promotion has some art but is mostly social media management. And Merchandising is a lot of drawing, sculpting, and photography. I mean we all learn a little bit of everything, and some people take it a step further by deciding to try more than one.”

“How did you decide?”

“My folks taught me Merchandising from the womb, so I tested out of that in the first week, and my brother is four years older than me so I got a jump on Costume Design, the track he took. I think I’ll test out of that in about a month, so I picked Promotion for my main. Don’t get me wrong, I have to jump through all these hoops every semester, and I have to turn in the final projects for each track. Going for all three is insane and I can’t in good conscience recommend it; buuut if you’re smart enough to do it, you’ll be scouted by the best companies. It’s hard work, like insanely hard. I have three separate essays due on Friday. I have to redesign a hero student’s costume, design a promotional package including a poster, and figure out a piece of merch that one of the teachers would approve; all by July first.”

“I think I’ll try it, but I don’t know a lot about sewing, so that might have to be my focus.”

Kato nodded. “Costume Design is tough, if you pick it as your focus you can’t drop it if it gets too hard. My brother says that heroes don’t know anything about good costume design but they get so attached to the crap they came up with in grade school it’s almost impossible to get them to see reason.”

Minoru grinned. “I think I can handle it.”

 

Having already cleaned his room, Izuku opted to sweep and mop the rest of the apartment. He was scrubbing the tile in the bathroom after starting the load of laundry that was waiting in the hamper. A spot of mold near the baseboard behind the toilet had caught his attention. He scrubbed at it diligently in the dim light pouring in from the hallway.

Suddenly the light flicked on. The change in vision was startling and he shielded his eyes more against the onslaught of the saturated orange tile floor than the soft yellow light.

“Ah!”

Izuku scrambled up to look at the source of the startled noise, blinking rapidly. “Wha?”

“Oh! Izuku, you scared me!” his mother said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly.

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t realize you were in here.”

“Yeah. I was bored, so I started cleaning. I did my room yesterday.” He rubbed the back of his neck as if it would relieve some of the awkward tension.

“Oh.”

“I’ll start on the kitchen tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she repeated, this time in a concerned tone.

“Oh!” Izuku said as he started to slide passed her. “I’ll, ah, get out of your way.”

“Izuku?” she asked before he had the door all the way closed. “Why don’t you play a video game or something?”

He looked at her quizzically. “I hadn’t thought about it. I mean, I am grounded,” he smiled at her, “but I guess I could if it’s alright with you.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” She smiled fondly at him as he shut the door.

Once he was back in his room, Izuku excitedly texted Tomura. What online games do you have?

Not many. Why?

We could play.

Sure. Kuu and I enjoy Witch Hunt.

I didn’t know it was multiplayer.

Not that one. It’s like Among Us, but dead players still make decisions and play an active role.

Sounds cool. Where can I download it?

Give me your E-mail, I’ll send you a link.

 

Yagi looked around his apartment once again. He hadn’t brought much with him, but it was a little sad to see it all boxed up. Yesterday there had been an eggplant on the counter, this morning it was a banana. Both had gone in the trash, but the simple, small intrusions had steeled his resolve. He just needed to find a new place; something with better security.

 

On Wednesday after the usual – and blessedly approved of – three hours of ‘support club’ with Mei and Shinso, the sky was just starting to turn from deep blue to lavender with the barest hints of pink and gold at the edges. Maijima-sensei gave him a message to meet All Might before he left for the day. Luckily, Bakugo was tutoring Kirishima at a nearby café instead of waiting for him.

He sighed and walked to the conference room next to the teachers’ lounge. “Hey,” he said, stepping in.

Yagi nodded to him. “Come have a seat.” His eyes were fixed on the coffee table. His aura was grim and serious.

Izuku swallowed remembering the messages Kurogiri had sent him about their meeting. Had they been more suspicious than the League thought? Had Eraserhead followed Toga further than they realized? Izuku was sure, as he sat on the lone stool across from Yagi, that this was it. He knew now and was asking for his quirk back.

Yagi began to speak before he was fully settled. “You went through a lot recently. I’m sorry I wasn’t around to help you out.”

“It’s fine,” Izuku replied dismissively; hope blossoming in his heart. “Nighteye was there. We got off to a rocky start, but he – he really came through when I needed him.” Izuku smiled, warmly and fondly. “More importantly, you said you needed to speak to me?”

“The quirk you now have is unique and you should know its origin. One for All is derived from another odd quirk; a power that’s very old,” Yagi began.

Izuku tried not to sag visibly in relief. “Oh? It used to be something different, then?”

Yagi nodded. “The name of that quirk is All for One. It allowed its user to take quirks from others, and the user could keep the quirks for himself or give them to someone else.”

Izuku tried to act a little bit surprised. “What? You mean he could steal powers?”

“This was back when quirks were just starting to show up,” Yagi continued, in what seemed to be a slightly rehearsed manner, “before society had figured out how to deal with the newly powered among them. When quirks first appeared, suddenly it was impossible to say what it meant to be a normal person. Laws and human rights were hotly debated. Civilization’s progress stalled. Society decayed.”

“Theoretically, if superpowers had never appeared then humans would be taking interstellar holidays by this point,” Izuku murmured. “I remember hearing that from someone famous, but I don’t recall their credentials.”

Yagi chuckled. “Right.” He shook his head. “During that chaotic period of change, there was one person that managed to rally many people together. He went by the name of his power: All for One. He stole quirks from others, and then with his overwhelming abilities he spread his influence across the country. He manipulated people to serve his purposes and committed evil acts with little resistance. In the blink of an eye, he became the leader of villains and ruled over Japan.”

“I’ve seen rumors about this online, sure,” Izuku said, his tone a bit more dismissive than he’d intended, “But isn’t that all just made up? It’s not mentioned in any reputable source I can find.”

“Because it’s the kind of shameful history people would rather ignore,” Yagi said firmly as if that would stop any argument.

“I’d just like some evidence, you know? Police reports, journals, news articles, or redacted government memos. Something that makes it more believable than, say, Slender Man.”

 Yagi looked at him with a particularly grim expression. “Anyway, when a person gains true power they enjoy showing it off to others.”

Izuku raised his eyebrows at him.

“I said that All for One could give quirks to others. Remember? He made people trust him or submit to his will by altering their abilities. But apparently, there were many poor souls who couldn’t bear the burden of the quirks they were given. They became like mindless living dolls incapable of speaking; just like Nomu is. Meanwhile, some quirks actually evolved as they were passed on, some even combined with other power sets.”

“Like Kacchan or Todoroki,” Izuku muttered.

Yagi paused to consider this, before plowing on with his explanation. “This evil man had a quirkless younger brother. He was small and sickly, but he had a strong sense of justice. They couldn’t have been more different. It pained the brother to see All for One’s deeds. So, he kept resisting him. And then All for One transferred a quirk to his sibling; one that would allow him to stockpile power. We don’t know if it was a gift he was giving his brother or if he just wanted to force him to submit.”

“Don’t tell me…” Izuku groaned.

“Yes!” Yagi said, excited that Izuku seemed to be on the same page as him. “Even though everyone thought he was quirkless, turns out the brother did have a quirk. Even he hadn’t realized this to be the case. He had a useless power that only allowed him to pass on quirks.” Yagi flung his arms out wide. “And so the stockpiling ability merged with the younger brother’s power. And that is how One for All came to be.” He lowered his arms. “I’ve always found it ironic that justice so often spawns from evil.”

“Hold up. This bad guy must be long dead at this point, but you went on about him at length. Yagi-san, why are you bringing him up?”

“One who steals quirks has no limits. Anything is possible,” Yagi said, a tad disappointed. “There are quirks that halt aging. He probably has something like that. The symbol of evil seemed pretty much immortal. The state of the world at the time and the huge difference in their combat abilities the younger brother decided to trust this new quirk to future generations. Even though he couldn’t defeat All for One, he hoped One for All would continue to grow in power until it was strong enough to stop his older brother. Eventually, it was my turn and I managed to defeat All for One.” He paused, dropping his eyes to the floor. “At least, that’s what I thought, but he survived and is now back in action as the brain behind the League of Villains.  So, now you know.” He looked Izuku in the eyes, his gaze full of fire. “The entire purpose of One for All is to defeat All for One. As its holder, you may one day have to fight against this great evil yourself. Because I failed. I know you didn’t expect this.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Yagi coughed. “Ex-excuse me?” he dabbed up the blood he’d spewed with a handkerchief.  He looked around for a garbage can.

“Here,” Izuku said, not feeling as kind as the action seemed. He pulled out a Ziploc bag with an empty jelly pouch and a few meal bar wrappers.

Yagi dropped the bloody handkerchief in without a second thought. “You’re upset.”

“You knew all this before. Before I interned with Nighteye. Before the sports festival. Before you gave me this fucking target on my back!”

“I-I didn’t mean to… I –”

“Stop,” Izuku said with a sigh. “I’m not mad. Just processing.”

“Sorry.”

“No, yeah. It’s a lot.” Izuku stood up and began pacing. “Okay. Okay. An immortal demigod wants me dead. Information about him is, well, laughable at best. And the history of this quirk seems to be pieced together from a multigenerational game of telephone.”

“When you say it like that…”

“If anyone in the chain lied then your information is wrong, and we have no way to verify any of it.”

“I-I’ll try to. It can’t all be word of mouth,” Yagi insisted.

“Yeah, let me know if you find anything.” Izuku headed for the door. “I have to be home before dark.”

“Oh. Um, i-it is getting late; let me give you a ride.”

“Sure,” Izuku said, turning to smile at Yagi.

 

“Izuku?”

He paused mid-push-up, pulled an earbud out, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll try to keep it down more.”

“That’s not it. I was still up,” Inko explained. “I was thinking about how much time you spend with your trainer. Then I realized that a week of being grounded is different for you now. You have eight more hours of it every night.”

“Well, seven actually,” he replied, casually holding his position.

“So, I did the math, and I think it would be fair to let you off your grounding two days early. It’s the same number of active hours.”

“I’d get to go to Aizawa-sensei’s for the extra training!” Izuku said excitedly.

Inko laughed. “Yes. You would.”

Izuku scrambled up off the floor and hugged her. “Thank you! Thank you. Thank you!”

 

“How goes the apartment hunting?” Yamada asked Yagi. He handed Aizawa a small to-go coffee and a breakfast sandwich.

“Not hungry,” he murmured not looking up from his screen. Yamada patted him on the shoulder and he stopped, unwrapped the sandwich, and took a bite.

“Not so well,” Yagi replied stretching. “Everything in the part of town I want is the same.”

Aizawa snorted. “You are too tall to couch surf. Look at places that border your desired location.”

“Yeah,” Yagi agreed sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck; both in mild embarrassment and to ease the tension there.

 

Thursday morning, Izuku was standing on his hands again. This time he was tilting his chair.

“You are going to fall,” Shinso said, glancing up from the textbook he was rereading.

“I’ll heal.”

“What if you hit someone on the way down?” Suzuki asked.

“Ikuno-san can heal them,” Izuku replied, although he did lean towards the wall instead.

“Only if they have AB or O blood types,” Miyajima corrected, brushing her long bangs out of her face.

Izuku settled his chair. “Oh.”

“And it’s not ‘healing’ it’s Cell Activation. There is a difference.”

He dropped his feet to the floor and sat properly. “Which is?” he asked pulling out his notebook.

“Well, for one thing, it can improve your physical condition in addition to repairing damage.”

“Oh, that’s useful,” Izuku muttered as he updated her page.

“Can I read that?” Miyajima asked. “It is about me.”

“Sure, just let me know if I got anything wrong.”

 

“Okay, this next week’s project is to build a robot that extinguishes fires.” Maijima turned to Shinso and Izuku specifically. “A hammer and a block of dry ice is not a robot.”

“Duh,” Shinso replied dryly, while Izuku said, “Boo.”

Mei was already sketching. “If we use the Capsule Launcher we can have our baby shoot the fire retardant foam.”

“Yeah, no sense in reinventing the wheel,” Shinso agreed.

“So, that’s the time-saving backup plan,” Izuku said with a wild grin. “But I really wanna make a robot that is a hammer and a block of dry ice.”

Shinso laughed. “Well, the Launcher is arm mounted. We need to make a mount for it anyway.”

Mei looked vaguely concerned, then adopted Izuku’s terrifying smile. “A large tank of dry ice and an internal grinding system, plus vents.”

“Treads and a wedge shape, or scoop to help with navigation,” Shinso suggested.

Mei cackled madly as she made notes.

 

Izuku had finished his homework by nine, studied for two extra hours, and read a chapter of BDSM 101. Afterward, he was restless and moved on to physical activity. Pushups, squats, and lunges were done quietly. His dumbbells, resistance bands, and yoga mat were put to good use. He felt like he was in solitary confinement. He knew it was unfair, his mom had even granted him an early reprieve. 

Izuku texted Kurogiri. I miss you.

 

After classes on Friday, Shinso and Izuku were following Aizawa across the campus at a brisk pace, to a huge walled structure.

“You two missed the urban rescue training with All Might,” Aizawa said with a sadistic grin, “so today I thought we’d do a little follow the leader.” He gestured to the walled-in industrial wasteland. “Welcome to Training Ground Gamma. Try to keep up.” He sprinted across a telephone line until it intersected with a pipe coming off an industrial silo.

Izuku adjusted his mask and dashed after him. Leaping the wide gaps between blocks of warehouses, Shinso struggled to keep up. It wasn’t that he couldn’t make the jumps; Izuku thought his landings were sloppy. It was as if no one had taught him how to do it.

When Aizawa disappeared behind a comically oversized exhaust fan, Izuku doubled back to help Shinso.

“Get going. I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Please, don’t hate me for offering help.”

“I won’t,” Shinso replied dully, but his eyes widened just a fraction. “Onii-san, huh?”

“Yeah.” Izuku lowered his eyes.

“Well, what do you recommend here?”

“Since Aizawa-sensei isn’t using his capture weapon, I don’t think he expects you to use yours. We should be able to –”

“Hurry up!” Aizawa shouted from the top of a water tower.

“You know he has no training in parkour, right?” Izuku called back.

“Figure it out!”

Izuku turned to Shinso. “Plus Ultra, I guess.” He shrugged. “I see two options. One: I carry you. Two: we hit street level and I give you a crash course in landings.”

Shinso stared at him blankly for a moment. “Or I can just ask sensei to show me how.”

“He said to figure it out.”

Shinso snorted. He shouted, “Hey, Teach? Kinda sucks to give the test before the lesson!”

Aizawa jumped down to them. “True.” He grinned. “But that happens sometimes. So, the first thing you have to do is learn to roll with the punches; or rather the falls.”

 

Izuku slid the book back on the shelf after finishing it. He flopped down on his bed. Turning his head to the side so he could breathe he willed the hours to creep by just a little faster. Tomura had said they were busy when he’d texted. It would be hours before he could talk to or play games with them.

Sighing, Izuku rolled onto his side. He deeply considered cleaning the kitchen. Instead, he got on his computer and started researching pranks they could pull on All Might.

 

Izuku had never been so excited about a Saturday before. He was hyperactive and impatient all day, as if rushing would get him to the end of the day faster. Shinso and the rest of class 1-C were beginning to get annoyed by his antics by lunch.

“You go sit next to Onii-san,” Shinso told him. “Let him put up with you for an hour. You’re practically vibrating.”

“It’s an isometric exercise: Air Chair,” Izuku explained. “Endurance is kinda my whole bag of tricks.”

“You do those a lot?” Ono asked.

“Yeah, as a future underground hero, I need the stealth training.”

“How do those connect up?”

“Well, it’s a necessary part of ninjutsu,” he replied. “I can hold any part of the step, for as long as I need. Plus, I’ve just had too much energy this week; I can stand to scrub some off.”

Several of the hero course students asked for training or stealth tips.

Izuku laughed. “It isn’t that impressive. It’s just a matter of control and stamina, really. You can find how-to’s for it online.”

 

After Bakugo had walked him home, Izuku had finished his homework and helped his mom make dinner. It was only six when he left the apartment. He started out walking, albeit briskly, but quickly he took to climbing buildings and leaping over alleys.

Despite him being nearly forty minutes early, Aizawa was waiting for him in front of his condominium building. His hair was pulled up into a messy bun. He was wearing a white t-shirt, bright pink track pants, and a uniform button on a leather cord around his neck. The mass of scar tissue around his elbow sent a wave of guilt over Izuku.

If Aizawa noticed, he didn’t say anything as he used his keycard to unlock the door. He didn’t bother to say anything as he led the way to the elevator. As he punched the code in to unlock the elevator, he finally spoke, “Nice bracelet.”

Izuku covered it without thinking. “Uh, thanks.”

“Are you and Kuu dating?” Aizawa asked stepping onto the elevator.

“What? No. He’s like your age!” Izuku squawked.

“That’s the general concern, Midoriya.” He reached out, grabbed Izuku by the wrist, and pulled him onto the elevator.  “Don’t lie to me.”

“Okay. Fine,” Izuku said petulantly. “Yeah, I think Kuu is hot. I think Yamada-sensei is hot. I think you’re hot. Nighteye is hot, too. And why do you fuckers keep grabbing me while accusing other guys of being inappropriate?”

Aizawa released his wrist as if it had burned him.

“Like, I get that I’m probably going to be kinky, but give a guy room to explore.” He stalked out of the elevator when the doors opened. “Maybe I don’t like being yanked around.”

Following him to the door with a rueful smile, Aizawa said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as flirty or aggressive.”

Izuku sighed. “I’ll li–. I mean, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, same. Some moments I can’t believe the world keeps spinning, and others I forget he’s even gone,” Aizawa confessed as he opened the door. “Daddy’s home, babies.” He slipped his loafers off and headed for the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

Izuku relaxed as he watched his usually stern teacher turn into a soft, dotting pet parent. He knew the reprieve was temporary, and the interrogation wasn’t over but it was nice all the same. Aizawa fixed the cats’ dinner, and gave them some treats and scritches while making light kissy noises at them. He could almost hear Yamada cooing over how cute his husband was.

Actually… “Where is Yamada-sensei?”

Chapter 50: A Stray Thought

The pit of his stomach sank as his student came into view. It was the same every time he saw Midoriya. The large amber eyes, the black bushy hair, the way he moved, all of it reminded him of Stray. Shota chided himself; his student was about five years too young, fifty pounds too light, and three inches too short. Still, the sense of impending doom never went away.

“Nice bracelet,” he said, breaking the awkward silence he’d let build as they’d entered the building. He punched the code in to unlock the elevator.

Like most dark colors, it looked black to Shota. The simple square knot was common enough to not mean anything; he couldn’t help but think of the gold ring held securely against his husband’s left wrist by a pair of lark’s head knots.

Midoriya covered the soft jute cord reflexively. “Uh, thanks.”

Shota didn’t look at the boy as he stepped on the elevator. Best to do it quick like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Are you and Kuu dating?”

Midoriya stuttered and flailed at the door. “Wha? N-no. He’s like your age!” He was too loud.

“That’s the general concern, Midoriya,” he replied in what he hoped was a bored tone, trying to calm the nervous boy down. Shota reached out, took Midoriya by the wrist – pressing the bracelet tight against his skin – and guided him onto the elevator. He sighed. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Okay. Fine.” Midoriya’s shoulders sank in defeat. “Yeah, I think Kuu is hot. I think Yamada-sensei is hot. I think you are hot. Nighteye is hot, too. And why do you fuckers keep grabbing me while accusing others of being inappropriate?”

Shota dropped Midoriya’s wrist as if it had burned him. “Sorry.”

“Like, I get that I’m probably going to be kinky, but I don’t like being yanked around.” Midoriya backed out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

“I didn’t mean to come off as inappropriate or aggressive.” Shota followed him to the condominium’s door with a sheepish smile.

“It’s not like it will kill m–” Midoriya cut himself off and grimaced. “I mean, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, same,” Shota sighed, ignoring the two sharp pangs of loss in his chest. “Some moments I can’t believe the world keeps spinning, and others I forget he’s even gone.” He absently tapped in the door code, not bothering to hide it from Midoriya’s view. “I’m home, kitties,” he called as he toed his shoes off. He trusted Midoriya to shut the door as he headed to the kitchen. “You must be hungry, huh?”

The cats had leaped onto the counter and were eagerly waiting for their meal. Extra sat patiently, looking every inch of the majestic floof he was, as the dry food was poured, but began licking his chops as the can of wet food was opened. Salt was rubbing his face against Shota’s chest as soon as he got to the counter. The orange and white tabby crawled onto his shoulders when the wet food came out. Both cats purred and chirped at him. Shota gave each a few crunchy treats and scratched behind their ears as they ate.

“Where is Yamada-sensei?” Midoriya asked nervously. And this, Shota supposed, was something the boy should worry about.

“Ah, well,” he began, “We get together with the other teachers every Saturday for drinks. It’s why I’m not available until six-thirty. I guess you didn’t let him know you were off grounding, because he accepted the invite to dinner with Nemuri, er, Kayama,” Shota explained. “They won’t be done for hours, and they tend not to have their phones on.”

Midoriya stared at him as if he had been replaced with a pod person.

“You are free to leave,” he said knowing full well the boy wouldn’t. “Or call someone, if that would make you more comfortable.”

“I trust you,” Midoriya replied, perhaps a bit unwisely.

“Then get changed and warm up, I’ll be in after I start dinner.”

Shota watched the boy pull off his socks and T-shirt that said ‘Flannel’. He was wearing a pair of charcoal yoga pants. Midoriya headed into the gym.

He set the rice cooker and checked to make sure that the meat was marinating. He diced the remaining vegetables to give himself some time to back out. Midoriya wasn’t Stray; he was just being taken advantage of by some pervert.

Shota walked into the gym and stripped off his shirt and necklace. He could feel Midoriya’s eyes tracing over the scars there. He turned to face the boy, who stared unabashedly at the jagged set of claw marks on his ribs and the long slash from his left shoulder to his navel. Finally, he could take the scrutiny no longer and spoke, “You can use anything in here, and don’t worry about being noisy; the whole place is soundproof.”

“That’s not creepy at all.”

“Don’t like it? Leave.”

Midoriya grabbed the bo staff. “You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your job.”

“And you wouldn’t say anything if I did.”

“I would.” He stood with the staff held loosely behind his waist, resting it in the crooks of his elbows.

Shota grabbed his capture scarf. “You have a safeword?”

“I barely have a boyfriend, I don’t need one.”

“You and Kuu not having sex yet?”

“No!” Midoriya snapped. He nearly dropped the staff as his relaxed posture shifted into a more aggressive stance. “I am dating Shoto! Why do you think I’m dating Kuu, he’s – he’s like a father to me.” Midoriya cringed. “Please don’t tell him.”

“Seriously?”

“My dad hasn’t been around since I was five.” He dropped his eyes to the floor. “I got over-attached to Yagi-san too.”

Shota would have felt bad about unleashing his capture scarf on the emotional boy if he didn’t feel like he was being lied to or manipulated every time Midoriya spoke. Wrapped up in an instant, the boy yelped as he was flipped upside down and suspended from the ceiling.

“Mind your surroundings.” He placed the bo staff back on the rack.

“Yeah, yeah.” Midoriya groaned. “Could you let me down?”

“Should be easy for you to get free,” he lied. Shota adjusted the hold of the weapon. Midoriya was hanging by his arms and legs, supported at the wrists, elbows, ankles, and knees. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“You know me,” he grunted, “eager to please.” Midoriya struggled. He tested each support and found his bonds to be strong; too strong for a mere teenager with a rapid healing quirk to break.

“Come on,” he encouraged, “it shouldn’t be this difficult for you.” Stray, his mind added.

Midoriya grunted and groaned. “Gimme a sec, here, sensei.” He pulled and flexed. He quickly discovered that if he shifted his weight wrong the binds would tighten. He tried to bring his hands in front of him at first. Then he attempted to bring them together behind his back. Both efforts proved to be painful. “Fuck.”

Shota scoffed. Of course, he wouldn’t reveal himself so quickly; not someone that worked with that monster. He was well trained, even though he was young. An extra eight hours a day would go a long way, especially since he could be passed from trainer to trainer when they got tired.

“Looks like you could use some motivation.”

He looped the scarf around Midoriya’s throat, not yet tight, not restricting.

“Uh,” the boy floundered at a loss for words. His black (green, Hizashi had said) hair was matted down with sweat. “Stop. Let me down.”

“You can get down any time you want.”

“I’m serious,” he said. Midoriya struggled against the capture scarf. “Let me down!”

Shota only smirked at him.

“This isn’t – I can’t, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Tell me how.” A hint of panic was creeping into his voice. It wasn’t deep enough to be Stray, but the villain clearly used a modulator to distort his voice.

“You can do this,” he said, unkindly. “You just have to try.”

“I am trying!”

“Try harder.” Shota tightened the scarf, just enough to hint at danger. He thought he would still be able to get two fingers under it. Shota frowned. He risked stepping closer to Midoriya just to be certain. He slid two rough, calloused fingers along the boy’s neck, and under the scarf. His pulse was fast for how calm he was behaving.

Midoriya flinched at the contact. “Please. Please.”

He flicked his wrist and pulled the scarf, raising Midoriya up so he didn’t have to crane his neck to look at him. “Please what?”

“Please, Aizawa-sensei, teach me how to get out of this.”

Shota moved around to inspect the rest of the binding. His wrists were starting to rub raw, and his circulation was cut off at one knee. He adjusted the scarf there. “You know how.”

“I’m not sleeping with Kuu! I swear! He doesn’t see me like that. I’m just a kid to him.”

Shota shook his head. He tightened the loop around Midoriya’s neck. Just enough to be uncomfortable.

“Please, Aizawa-sensei, I’m scared. I-I think I’m having a panic attack.” Tears welled in the boy’s amber (green, again) eyes.

“Come on, where’s that fighting spirit? Show me your heart, hero.”

Midoriya looked at him in confusion and panic. He started struggling again; his wrists and ankles rubbing raw against the capture weapon. “Stop.”

Shota tightened it a bit more. Midoriya whined and gulped for air. He wasn’t in any real danger it just felt like it. “What no fight? No threats? You can do better than that.”

“Let me go, you bastard!”

“Tell me all the things you’d do to me if you could get free.”

Midoriya sobbed. His body went slack. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t do it. I’m trying. I-I’m just…” Between his sobs and slightly restricted airway, Midoriya’s face was more flushed than it should have been. His shouts died down and his plea continued as a whisper, “I’m just a useless Deku. I can’t-can’t do anything. I’m worthless. I’m sorry I wasted your time. I’m sorry. Sorry. So sorry. Pathetic. Can’t be a hero, I’ll just be a liability like you said. Asuka or Fukami would be better. Anyone would be a better choice than me. I’m sorry.”

Shota whipped the loop smoothly off his neck. He lowered the boy – his student – to the floor. “Fuck.” He loosened the capture scarf and released Midoriya’s limbs. “No, kiddo, it’s not your turn to be sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong.” He began rubbing Midoriya’s joints, being careful of the raw skin.

“…wasted your time. Waste of everyone’s time.”

“No, hey. I-I lied to you.”

“Don’t have to be nice. I know – I know I should have just – just d–”

“No!” Shota pulled him into a sitting position, into a tight hug. “I thought,” he started. “I thought you were a villain.”

Midoriya shook his head. “I’m useless.”

“You’re not. You learn so quickly, and you’re eager to share that knowledge with others.”

“You really don’t have to be nice,” Midoriya repeated. “I can take care of myself.”

Shaking his head, he said, “I’ll take care of you.” He stopped and snorted at himself. Shota didn’t know how to comfort people, so he ran back to Hizashi for support. “Your mom will take care of you. And Hizashi, Inui, hell even Yagi. You’re a kid. We’re supposed to take care of you. It just works out better that way.” He held Midoriya to his chest.

“I couldn’t figure it out.”

“I know. It wasn’t a puzzle for you. I was trying to convince myself that you weren’t Stray.”

“Stray?” he asked mild panic in his voice again.

Shota sighed and petted his hair. “I’m colorblind; deuteranopia. Everything is shades of yellow or blue to me. So, your hair is dark enough that it just looks black, and your eyes are amber. I tend to ignore color or ask ‘Zashi about it if it matters. Words like red, orange, and green are meaningless to me.”

“There wasn’t a-a way out?”

“Not without some kind of super strength.”

Midoriya sobbed into his chest.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let my stupid paranoia… I shouldn’t have hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” Midoriya said between sobs. Whatever he said after was too garbled for Shota to understand.

“No, it’s not. I fucked up. Badly. I was handling it okay before but last week I had a run-in with Stray at a nightclub. He’s leaner than we originally thought. The footage is rough but ‘awkward teen’ would be a fair description.”

Izuku cuddled in closer and repeated, “Sorry,” over and over.

“It’s not your turn to be sorry, kiddo.” Shota hugged him tight. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to regain your trust, but I hope you’ll let me try.”

“Trust takes time,” he murmured, almost absently. And then he was silent.

Shota panicked at first. He quickly realized that it was just Midoriya’s quirk. He stood and picked the boy up. Despite his compact frame, he was a solid weight in Shota’s arms. It was comforting when Midoriya wrapped his arms around Shota’s neck. He hoped it was comforting for him as well.

“Let’s get some dinner in you, kiddo.” Shota set him on the couch and went to the kitchen. He doubled back with a jelly pouch. “Here, that should help take the edge off, right?”

Midoriya made an S with both hands and shook them back and forth in front of his shoulders like he was shivering. “Cold.”

“I’ll grab you a blanket.” He grabbed a soft, fleece blanket that matched the pillows. Or, at least Hizashi assured him it did. He wrapped it around Midoriya like a burrito. “There you go. Nice and warm.”

Midoriya nodded.

Shota started grilling the beef. He kept stealing glances at the bundle on the couch. Midoriya looked comfortable, even cozy. He sucked away at the jelly pack until it was empty, then attempted to go full cocoon in the small blanket. It was a bit of a struggle, but he eventually got it by curling his legs.

The door jiggled as the knob was turned before the code was fully put in. Shota shook his head as Hizashi practically burst through the door, half singing a pop song. Pulling out a third bowl, Shota stopped. He put the bowl back. After all, when he told Hizashi what he’d done…

He wasn’t hungry anyway. Shota plated up two heaping beef bowls and quietly placed them on the table.

Meanwhile, Hizashi must not have spotted him in the kitchen, because he flopped down on the couch with the Midoriya burrito. “Aw, are we having a bad day?”

The bundle nodded silently.

Hizashi scooped him into his lap. “Let me make it better, Sh–” he cut off abruptly as he realized that the human burrito was about a half foot too short and thirty to forty pounds too light. “Did you get hit by a quirk?”

“No,” Shota said from the dining table, while Midoriya shook his head.

“Who am I cuddling, Sho?”

“Midoriya.”

“Oh,” he gave his student a gentle head pat. “Wait, I thought he was grounded this week.”

“His mom let him off early, due to quirk considerations, and he let me know yesterday.” Shota grabbed two pairs of chopsticks from the drawer and placed them next to the bowls. He didn’t want to tell Hizashi what happened, but it was illogical to try to hide it.

“Why didn’t you let me know? Nem and I would have pushed dinner back a few hours.”

Shota was silent.

“Sho?”

“I– I’m sorry,” he murmured, just loud enough for Hizashi to hear. “I couldn’t get it out of my head. It kept playing on a loop, and it just got worse when I saw him. They look so much alike.” Shota sounded exhausted. He touched his throat. “I- What I did was unforgivable. I terrorized our student. I hurt him.”

Midoriya struggled out of the blanket. He was shaking his head and signing, “Sorry.” He stumbled to his feet, and Hizashi untangled him and helped guide him to the table.

“Sho, we’ll talk about this later,” he said firmly.

“I’m sorry,” Shota hung his head. “If-if you want me to leave –”

Midoriya shook his head again. He practically threw himself at his teacher, wrapping his arms around him.

“Let’s just get him talking for now.” He guided the pair into a chair. Midoriya was still clinging to Shota so he arranged the boy on his husband’s lap; Shota’s hands rested uneasily on Midoriya’s hips. Hizashi grabbed a pair of chopsticks and selected a choice bite of beef. He brought it up to Midoriya’s mouth. “Open.”

Midoriya complied, although he did look a little miffed about the treatment. After the first few bites, he tried to take the chopsticks, but Hizashi swatted his hand.

“No, you concentrate on healing.”

This earned him a sour look, but when the next bite was offered the boy still took it.

Hizashi picked up the other pair of chopsticks in his left hand and picked up a piece of meat. He offered it to Shota. “Open.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Hizashi poked his cheek with the meat. “Open.”

“I…” Shota looked his husband in the eyes. “I only made enough for two.”

“Mm-hm. And I had dinner with Nem. Open.”

Midoriya turned to look at him with a frown. He put his fingers together and taped his lips, then he placed his palm against his chest and rubbed it clockwise. “Eat, please.”

Hizashi set the chopsticks down. “Try this one,” he held his hands up like he was playing an unenthusiastic game of peek-a-boo and moved them apart, “open.”

Midoriya mimicked the sign. “Open.”

Grumbling, Shota looked at the boy. “I don’t deserve it.”

Midoriya furrowed his brow and signed, “Open,” as Hizashi said, “Everyone deserves food, Sho.”

He picked both sets of chopsticks up again and offered a bite to both of them. “Open.”

The boy complied while glancing at Shota. When he didn’t open his mouth, Midoriya shut his as well.

“Open.”

Shota rested his head on Midoriya’s shoulders. “You’re not going to let this go are you?”

“Like a Borg-Vulcan would say: Resistance is both illogical and futile.”

The other two both snorted. “‘Zashi, come on.” The bite was popped into his mouth. Shota looked disgruntled, but he chewed obediently.

“There you go,” Hizashi cooed. “And one for you.” He offered a bite to Midoriya. He sighed. “Like a little family. Hey, Sho? Remember when we first got the cats and Extra had to be hand-fed because he was so aggressive?”

“Yeah. The shelter said it would help domesticate the feral little beast. Why?”

The pair took their offered bites at the same time. “I’m glad we put in the effort. It was really worth it to teach that magnificent fluff-butt to love.”

“Yeah,” Shota replied sadly. He wrapped his arms around Midoriya’s waist. “Sorry, I –”

“Please don’t be mad, Yamada-sensei,” Midoriya said, finally regaining his voice.

“I’m not, you didn’t do any–”

“Not me,” Midoriya interrupted. “Don’t be mad at him. He was traumatized by villains.”

“He was, but that’s no excuse,” Hizashi explained softly, “especially for a pro hero. He hurt and scared you.”

“I’m fine!” Midoriya assured him. “So, please, I don’t wanna get him in trouble.”

“Kiddo…”

“If he gets fired I won’t get into the hero course,” he pleaded. Behind him, Shota stiffened in the chair.

Hizashi looked at him sadly. “I promise –”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can talk to Nezu.”

“I don’t want that.”

“Midoriya.”

“I’ll talk to Inui-sensei about it.”

“And your mom.”

“I’ll tell Kuu. Best I can offer you.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Yes, it is. And I hold all the cards. So, accept that I’ll talk with Inui or I’ll deny anything happened at all.” He looked Hizashi in the eyes. “I’m really good at that. Just ask Kacchan. ‘We were playing and I fell.’ ‘He was helping me pick my books up after I dropped them.’ ‘I asked him to show me his quirk.’”

Hizashi slumped his shoulders in defeat.

“And I wanna keep up the extra lessons.”

“Okay,” Shota said quietly.

Midoriya looked at him as if he had forgotten he was there. “Good.”

“Anything to get you to talk to someone about the abuse and abandonment,” Shota replied softly. “But, you have to let Inui talk to us a little, so we know you’re keeping up your end. Nothing specific, just that you’re trying. Let us know any homework he gives you. Also, one training session a month will be non-field related subjects.” He leaned in close to Midoriya’s ear. “You are going to hate it.”

Midoriya muttered, “I need to get Yagi a pair of black gi pants and a ‘hate me’ speech.”

“This week doesn’t count. Next week will be self-care.”

Midoriya frowned. “I take care of myself fine.”

“Then it should be easy.” Shota looked like he wanted to unsay the words the moment they were out of his mouth. He rested his head on Midoriya’s shoulder again.

“Alright,” Hizashi said firmly. “Let’s finish dinner.” He offered them bites at the same time. “Open.” He continued to feed them until the bowls were empty.

“Okay,” Shota said standing up and taking Midoriya with him. “Now, to spoil you.”

Hizashi cleaned up the dishes, while Shota carried Midoriya to the bathroom. The walls were a soft, light grey subway tile. The floor around the sink, toilet, washer, and dryer was the same rich hardwood flooring in the rest of the apartment, while the shower and tub area had a crisp white hexagon tile. Floor-to-ceiling glass separated the wet and dry areas. Like the kitchen, all of the hardware was polished nickel.

He left the door open and offered the boy a robe, or a pair of trunks. Midoriya just wrapped a towel around his waist and shucked his yoga pants. He projected a false confidence that made Shota shake his head.

“You are free to refuse. I expect you to if something makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not like you’re going to, you know, touch me inappropriately.”

“You don’t sound as confident as you did before.” Shota stayed in his pink track pants as he turned the shower on. Midoriya sat on the stool and peered at him curiously. “Good, you’re learning. Here, check the temperature.”

“It’s good.”

Shota wet his hair and back. He grabbed Hizashi’s vanilla milk and papaya shampoo. After pouring a generous dollop onto his hand, he began massaging Midoriya’s scalp. The boy sat stiffly at first, but soon the gentle scrape of Shota’s short nails had him practically purring. His hair was rinsed, and Shota grabbed a bottle of vanilla and chai spice conditioner.

“Ah, no. Sho, use the apple and aloe one.”

“I’ll smell like a pie,” Midoriya protested.

“The chai set is for dry hair. Plus, the mix of spices smells a bit like pumpkin pie to begin with. The apple and aloe is for daily use, and the scent is so delicate, it won’t linger.” Hizashi stepped into the bathroom. “And, coconut bodywash. Unless you have dry skin, then use the cucumber and green tea one. Oh, and this apricot scrub for your face. After you soak, and dry, a coconut milk and shea body butter. I have lavender or coffee and brown sugar.”

“Body butter?”

“It’s lotion,” Shota said, taking the apple and aloe conditioner.

“It’s moisturizer,” Hizashi corrected.

“I take it the three-in-one in here is yours?” he asked Shota.

“Shh. He can’t throw it out if he can’t find it.”

“It’s that gunmetal grey and lime green eyesore. It smells like chlorine.”

Shota chuckled as he finished Midoriya’s hair. He washed the boy’s back with a mesh body sponge while Hizashi filled the tub. “I think you can take it from here. Holler if you need anything, kiddo.”

“Uh, okay.”

When he finally came out, in his yoga pants, Hizashi sat him down on the couch and the pair rubbed his feet and shoulders, and smoothed the body butter over his torso and limbs. Then he put on a movie while Shota called Inko to let her know that training had gone late and they would drive him home when they’d finished.

Midoriya was a little uncomfortable sandwiched between them, but soon the steady thump of Shota’s heartbeat lulled him into a relaxed state. The warmth and weight of Hizashi leaning against him eased the tension from his body.

Chapter 51: Important Lessons

Inko hugged Izuku as soon as he was through the door. She didn’t care that he was a little embarrassed in front of his teachers. Besides, Yamada had hugged him when he brought Izuku home from the train station. “Are you okay, baby?”

“I’m fine, yeah.”

“It was a bit of an emotional session,” Aizawa said treacherously. “It’s been a rough week for everyone.”

“Do you want to stay home tonight?” Inko asked, still holding her son.

“No,” Izuku replied quickly, not making any effort to free himself. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No, they fed me.”

Inko sniffled a little.

“But I can let Kuu know I’ll be late if you need a moment. It’s not like he has a schedule to keep.”

“Izuku, this isn’t about my feelings! It’s about yours!”

“I know, and I appreciate that you’re here for me, but really I’m fine.”

“He’s so okay,” Yamada started, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “that I was thinking, and I’m sure Sho – ah, Aizawa would agree, that you should be more involved with his education. So, instead of him walking over to our place to train, I’ll come here and pick the two of you up from now on.”

Izuku’s head whipped around and he glared at his teacher. Yamada met his eyes as if to say, ‘This is not a negotiation.’

Aizawa, on the other hand, seemed to relax; the tension in his shoulders visibly eased.

“That sounds wonderful,” Inko said, tightening her hold. “I’d love that, but are you sure I wouldn’t be in the way?”

“Not at all,” Aizawa said quickly; his tone, more than his volume, shutting down whatever Izuku had been about to say. “We could keep you both for dinner and monitor his quirk more closely. He hasn’t had the appropriate quirk counseling and there are aspects of it that need to be studied.”

“What do you mean?”

“He told Shinso and I that his mental fatigue doesn’t heal as quickly as physical fatigue, his perception of pain has been dulled, and he has difficulty thinking of his quirk as a part of himself.”

“Less urgent, not dulled,” Izuku objected in his mother’s tightened hug. “It’s not like it's numb or anything.”

“It means, he’s not processing the emotional effects of trauma, because his quirk is healing the physical effects,” Aizawa said.

Izuku froze. He hadn’t considered the overarching implication of his brain physically healing; he’d have to ask Sensei about it. However, he had looked up quite a bit to deal with his panic attacks from the fall. “Traumatic stress is typically associated with increased cortisol and norepinephrine levels in response to the cause of the stress, leading to PTSD. Neuropathologists have observed the detrimental effects of physical and emotional trauma on the amygdala, hippocampus, and prefrontal cortex, but the damage is normally irreversible, and my rapid healing is just that: healing. It’s not regen. I would need the same medications and thera… Damn it!”

“As anyone else,” Aizawa finished for him.

“I’m fine,” Izuku insisted.

“You are not fine,” Aizawa said.

“You know what parentification is?” Yamada asked.

“When parents use their older kids as co-parents for the younger ones,” Izuku replied.

“Partly. It’s any time a kid is saddled with adult responsibilities; like, say, putting your mom’s discomfort over your own about the bullying. You gotta spend some time being a kid, Midoriya. Next week’s lesson will be on self-care, so I want you and Inko to journal all of the self-care you do between now and then. Okay?”

“Yes, sensei,” Izuku replied with a sigh.

“We can do that,” Inko said enthusiastically.

“Good. I’m glad you’re on board. Next, Izuku needs to add some fun and games to his schedule. Seven hours of school, one hour for the commute, three in the support department or doing extra training, two or three hours for studying, and another two for meals and sleep; that’s a packed schedule. He needs time to socialize and unwind,” Yamada explained.

“He sleeps on the train,” Inko said flatly.

Both teachers glared at him. Izuku squirmed. “I hang with friends all the time. And Shoto and I are going on a second date, as soon as …I think he’s free on Friday again. I just have to ask Mom if it’s okay for me to be out late.”

“Why would staying out late with your boyfriend be any worse than sneaking out to train with, what was his name? Kuu?” Inko said sweetly.

Izuku gave a weak whimper. “That’s why I’m gonna ask.”

Inko briefly tightened her hug and then let Izuku go. “Do you two want some coffee? I’m going to need a rundown of what you’re counting as self-care; I’ve read different things. And I think it would be a good idea if we chatted for a while. The last real home visit I had from one of Izuku’s teachers, well I found out Izuku had thrown a chair and that wasn’t even the reason for the visit.”

“You threw a chair?” Aizawa asked.

“They were bullying Kacchan.”

“Have you talked about this with Inui?” Yamada asked.

“It’s on the list.” He crossed his arms.

“You know, when you do that, I think you need a hug.”

“I’m at my limit with you,” Izuku replied taking a step back.

“Your chair-throwing limit?” Aizawa asked.

“I have boundaries.”

Aizawa smiled. “And apparently, you’re willing to enforce them.”

“You think he’d really throw a chair at me?” Yamada asked.

Izuku looked at the green chairs around the dining room table. It looked so ordinary, but they had had it his whole life. “Grandma gave us that dining set.”

Aizawa laughed. “Saved by sentimentality.”

“I’m glad,” Yamada said. He joined Inko in the kitchen to help with coffee and snacks.

 

Kurogiri hung up the phone and sighed. “Regretfully, Giran, your visit will have to be cut short. I can drop you anywhere you’d like.”

“Morocco?”

“It would require multiple jumps, but I technically could, yes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied with a chuckle. “My apartment would be fine. It’s getting late, anyway.”

A warp gate swirled into life a few steps away from him. At the same time, Tomura came upstairs, stretching and yawning.

“Oh, hey, Giran. Leaving already?”

“Yeah, I was just stopping by for drinks, but you’ve got business on the way.”

Tomura frowned. “Ick. Stain.” He thought for a second and in the offhand manner of someone asking a roommate to buy milk if they’re going to the store, he asked, “Can you get us like a half dozen or so more of those flash bangs you found for Stray?”

He nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“No rush.” Tomura waved him off as he sat at the bar. “Can I have a drink?”

Kurogiri chuckled as Giran left. “Don’t you think you should face Stain sober?”

“One drink isn’t going to affect me, let alone enough to hamper my fighting ability.”

“No,” Kurogiri said.

“Fine, fine. But I’m drinking after he leaves.”

“That is acceptable.”

The warp gate opened, slightly off the ground, and Stain stepped through. His steps faltered only a bit. “What took so long?” he growled.

“Disposing of the patrons,” Tomura replied, gesturing at the bar. “We don’t just sit around waiting for you, you know.”

“Where is Stray?”

“He’s, uh, in the shower,” Tomura said cheekily.

“Where is Stray?” Stain repeated turning to Kurogiri.

“He has other duties at the moment,” Kurogiri said, wiping the bar.

Stain tossed a stack of manila folders down next to Tomura. Tomura picked the top one up and began reading it. He gave a low whistle. “This guy is sick. He married a chick he rescued. She was barely twenty at the time. Kurogiri, see if we can get his juvie record. This guy has ‘tip of the iceberg’ written all over him.”

Stain cocked his head.

Tomura grinned. “He’s a legacy hero, like that kid you killed. Father, grandfather, great grandfather; five generations. His quirk is basically throwing up a sword. His dad could make knives until he used up all the metals in his body. Granddad could produce simple metal shapes. Wonder what the wife’s quirk is?”

Stain grunted dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right she doesn’t matter. Neither do retired heroes. Waste of your time.” He set the file aside and moved on to the next one. “Huh, guess we’re skipping this one.” He tossed the file on top of the previous one.

Toga stepped into the bar in nothing but one of Kurogiri’s tee shirts. The shirt hem rose, revealing creamy white thighs, as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.  “Can I have an omelet for break– eep!” she dashed back downstairs.

“Don’t kill him,” Kurogiri warned as he moved to the kitchen. Whether he was talking to Stain or Tomura, neither could tell. He returned with three rice omelets as Toga trotted down the stairs in a simple outfit of jeans and a baggy, lavender sweater with a pink ribcage print on it. “Here you are, sweetheart.”

“Thank you!” she chirped back. Toga sat next to Tomura. She asked, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Stain sneered. “I could never trust the likes of him. A dog with too many masters.”

Toga nodded. “Family can be complicated. You must be from a single-parent home then.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“Well, You think that Tomura-kun is in charge of Kurogiri. It’s cute really. But Sensei is the dad and Kurogiri is –”

“No,” Tomura said sharply. “Just no. That would make Stray my stepdad, and just no.”

Toga laughed.

Stain glared at them.

“Oh, grow a personality already, Edge Lord,” Tomura said before digging into his omelet.

 

Aizawa and Yamada stayed until ten when Inko pleaded exhaustion.

“We can walk Izuku to his meeting with Kuu, then. No sense in him wandering the streets alone when he’s got two pro heroes available,” Aizawa said.

Inko nodded. “I’d feel better knowing he was safe. Thank you.”

“I don’t need an escort, I’m fi– ” Izuku cut himself off. “Uh, yeah, sure. Just let me text him that I’m on my way. He doesn’t like us loitering for too long,” He pulled out the dark grey phone and hoped his mother didn’t notice the difference. 

Kuu-san, I’m headed out now, he texted Kurogiri. It would have been nice to swap his and Toga’s name in the phone, but they hadn’t had a chance to discuss it, yet. 

The return text was short and quick, I’m waiting.

“Kinda, brusque isn’t he?” Yamada asked from over his shoulder.

Izuku shrugged. “I guess. He’s not as impatient as that sounds. Like someone else we know, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting, is all.”

“Well, if it’s for the same reasons as our someone else then we shouldn’t dawdle too much,” Yamada said.

Aizawa grunted in response and headed for the door. “Good night, Midoriya-san.”

“Good night, boys,” Inko replied drowsily. 

Izuku locked the door behind them and led the way across the street. He headed straight to the octopus play structure. ‘Kuu’ was sitting on the slide. Izuku trotted up to the end as he slid down.

“Well, when it rains it pours,” ‘Kuu’ said, his mouth opening wider than seemed necessary. His expression was angry, but his demeanor was casual. He was wearing running shoes, maroon cargo shorts, and a charcoal grey fitted tee shirt. “So, I’m Kuu. I’m guessing I finally have the pleasure of meeting Sae’s teachers?”

“I’d like your real name,” Aizawa said flatly.

‘Kuu’ sighed, and dug out his wallet. “Your concern for your student is touching, if a little late in coming.”

“Anyway, you have something to tell Kuu. Right, kiddo?” Yamada said encouragingly.

Izuku narrowed his eyes at him. “We settled on me telling Inui-sensei.”

Yamada tapped his cheek. “Did we? I’m sure you said you’d tell Kuu, too. Unless you want me to go wake your mom up?”

“Bastard,” Izuku said.

“Tell me what, love?” ‘Kuu’ asked. The tone was sweet and gentle, rather than the saucy vibe they had assumed it felt almost familial; like being called ‘honey’ or ‘sugar’ by an elderly waitress.

“Aizawa-sensei got a little rough with me during training is all,” he muttered.

‘Kuu’ furrowed his brow and the skin around his teeth twitched in what was likely a frown. “Factoring for your usual downplay, I don’t see any cast.” He looked to Aizawa. “What happened?”

“I –”

“I got tangled in his capture scarf and couldn’t get out.”

“Midoriya!” Yamada chided.

He flinched and continued, “Turns out he strung me up on purpose thinking I was secretly a villain.”

“I am so sorry,” ‘Kuu’ said. “I knew you shoulda cut ties with us when Yuuei accepted you.”

“It’s not that,” Izuku said while Aizawa shook his head.

“It’s my fault entirely. I, well, I fucked up. Past trauma mixed with recent trauma and some paranoia into a shit storm.”

‘Kuu’ hummed. “You seeing someone about it?”

Aizawa nodded. “Twice a month.”

“He really looks up to you. Sae fanboys over All Might, but you are his blueprint. You’re the type of hero he sees himself becoming. Please, don’t let us down, Eraserhead.”

They could tell hearing that was like a punch to the gut. Aizawa looked down and scuffed the dirt. Izuku blushed. Yamada narrowed his eyes at ‘Kuu’, but in the end, he just said, “We should head home. It’s been a long day.”

“See you Monday,” Izuku said as Yamada tugged Aizawa’s arm to get him headed to the car. Izuku and ‘Kuu’ waited until they had driven off before texting their pick-up.

 

Toga dropped her disguise as soon as they stepped through the warp gate. “Hurry and change! Stainy brought us something!” She ran out of the room and down the stairs.

Izuku was miffed that Kurogiri was not in their bedroom and that Stain was upstairs. He didn’t want to deal with that psychopath tonight, but he had responsibilities. Sighing, he changed his clothes. When he looked in the mirror over the dresser, he felt calm for the first time since Eraserhead had looped his capture weapon around his neck. 

The new tactical trousers made from the ripstop fabric Giran had acquired for him hugged his legs without chafing. The bullet-resistant vest made him feel almost as safe and secure as Kurogiri’s arms. Putting on his boots and gloves almost put a spring in his step. It was as if the trauma of the day melted off of him. Stray was not a student afraid of failure but a monster cleverly evading capture. 

He scratched his throat lightly. He stared at his collar for a long moment before shoving it into his jacket pocket.

Dragging his fingers down the molded front of his vest he felt … confident, bold, sexy even. He chose his snarling muzzle as tonight’s mask. Stain was going to see him at his finest.

“Do you have anything worth showing us?” Izuku asked as he reached the landing and pushed open the door to the bar. His shadow rushed ahead of him, sliding over his companions each in turn.

Tomura gave a little grunt and nodded at Izuku in greeting.

Silently, the hero killer handed over the files he brought. Izuku flipped through them, disappointed at first. Five of the hero course teachers at Shiketsu were – seemingly – as pure as the driven snow; not so much as a parking ticket or a picture of them littering. The last three… two of them were violent in their hero work. One semi-retired and took up teaching to avoid brutality charges. The other was still quite active, but only went after low-level thugs; nothing that would make the news.

The last one made Izuku’s stomach turn. Countless pictures of bruises, police report after police report, and most recently a hospitalization after a ‘fall’ resulted in a miscarriage. His wife was barely twenty when they were married. She had endured ten years of hell and now the bastard was divorcing her because she’d lost the baby.

“Well?” Stain asked impatiently.

It made Izuku smile a little. He lingered over the horrific images a little longer, just savoring the knowledge that this psychotic, homicidal, beast was waiting for his word. It might upset Sensei, but it was the little pick-me-up that Izuku needed to turn his bravado into action. “We were always going to give you what you asked for to get the job done.” Izuku looked Stain in the eyes, “The question is, who’s worse: a wolf among the sheep or the shepherds?”

Stain grinned at him. It was a sadistic mockery of joy, too wide and too hungry. “So what lesson am I teaching Tomura here?”

“To weed out corruption in society you have to find and fix the source,” Izuku replied plainly. He continued, a grin obvious in his voice, “Although the hero commission is the ultimate source of this corruption, we can’t overlook new wellsprings of rot. Heroes must be held to a higher standard; those that teach heroes, an even higher one. These three taint every student they come into contact with. Their violence and disregard for the citizens they are charged with protecting is unforgivable.”

“Isn’t violence an unavoidable part of being a hero?” Tomura asked. It was a genuine question, but Tomura couldn’t help sounding sarcastic while playing student.

“Well, Stain, answer your student.”

He was quiet for a long moment, glaring mutinously at Izuku. Finally, he turned to face Tomura. “Does All Might cause unnecessary injuries? Does he hurt even the vilest of criminals more than needed to subdue them? Does he cause excessive collateral damage and endanger civilians?”

“I feel like you want the answer to be ‘no’, but I have a couple of nonpublic edge case examples where it’s ‘yes’.”

“As I am still operating, one could say he did not go far enough,” Sensei’s voice came from the karaoke machine.

“And that training exercise was flawed from the start; he’s not the only one to blame. The civilian stand-ins should have been told he was there,” Izuku added generously. “Plus he was playing villain at the time.”

Tomura made a harrumphing noise.

Toga giggled.

“Now, we leak the manifesto around the Internet, and you make a series of videos about these three to put out after they’ve been …” Izuku hesitated, but in the end didn’t allow himself to shy away from the truth and he said it plainly, “murdered.”

“What would you have me say about them?”

“Only the truth.”

“And you think I need anything from you to do this?”

“You work for us now,” Izuku said sternly as he set up the camera.

“If you are up to it, I could transport you to all three of them tonight,” Kurogiri added.

“We could scout for you, or even bring them to you, but,” Izuku stepped over to the bar when he finished, “you will handle ‘judgment’ yourself. Still, I would like to see if this one has mended his ways.”

“You think retiring makes a difference?”

“I think proving that he hasn’t will look better to the public than just offing him. It will create a new conversation regarding the student you killed.”

“Fine,” Stain replied, stepping in front of the camera. “Heroes are supposed to protect people. Failing to do so is an unforgivable sin. Those that blatantly break this covenant are the vilest of criminals.”

Izuku tuned him out as he leaned over the bar to nuzzle his boyfriend. “Need you so bad.”

“Did something happen?”

“Later.” He wrapped his shadow around Kurogiri, taking comfort in the interplay between his solid form and misty body. The unique combination of smooth skin and ethereal vapor caressing his shadow steeled Izuku’s nerves. Stain would be done soon enough, and with any luck, he would only want a drop-off.

Tomura silently poked the pocket with the collar and quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Later,” he repeated.

 

Shota was curled up in the passenger seat as Hizashi drove. He was quiet. It was twenty minutes before Shota realized he wasn’t taking them home. Eventually, he stopped at an all-night mini-mart. Hizashi only said, “Stay,” as he got out of the car.

He didn’t take long inside; just went up to the counter and bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Shota sat up as he watched his husband lean against the hood of his car and light up. Hizashi took a long drag and held it before blowing out a huge cloud of smoke. “Fuck.” He stretched the word to its absolute limit. “Fuck,” he breathed and took another puff. “Fuck. Fuck! Fuck. Fuck. FUck. FUCK!” His volume increased as he repeated the word until he was loud enough to disturb a nearby transient.  “Sorry. Smoke?”

The man shook his head and went back to fishing recyclables out of the trash can.

Shota opened his door.

“I said stay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I need a few minutes, Sho.”

“I can –” he stood.

“Sit your ass down. Don’t even think of offering to move out. I fucking love you and I get it’s been rough. I need a few minutes before I can be a reasonable adult about fucking anything,” Hizashi paused. “I said sit down.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me. Nem mixed our DVDs when we moved in together.” He dropped the butt of his smoke and scuffed his boot over it. “It was a beautiful ceremony; wish we got pictures.” Hizashi contemplated lighting another one.

“I can’t fix this.”

“You still think he’s Stray?” He turned toward Shota.

“No! God no. Fuck. I hurt him. I could have killed him!”

“And you feel like shit.”

“And he forgives me just like that.”

“We should call Ryo.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“I don’t know when he’s scheduled to talk with Midoriya, I don’t want him blindsided, and you need to talk to somebody.”

“The stupid thing is, Midoriya is right, even if I turned myself in, nothing would come of it if he denied it.”

“Yeah.” he tucked the pack away. “Did you notice his phone charm?”

“No? His phone is a different color though. Lighter, same model. When did he get a new one?”

“I bet it’s back to black with an All Might charm on Monday.”

“Zashi?”

“He’s either dating Kuu or in a gang.”

“He was pretty adamant about not dating him.” Shota paused. “But, you said he had a boyfriend, a week before the sports festival.”

“That goes to his gym.” Yamada moved to get back in the car. “He used the Gang Orca phone then too.”

“We should call Ryo.”

Chapter 52: Pouring Gold into Wounds

Izuku’s stomach was doing flips as he got dressed for the night’s adventure. Stain would be doing most of the work but they each had their part to play. Toga would be acting as bait, putting herself in danger more than once. Izuku was hesitant to risk her for Stain’s sake but she insisted.

When he came out of the bathroom in black cargo pants and a hoodie, Kurogiri murmured, “Adorable.”

“These fit like a potato sack,” Toga whined.

Tomura shrugged. “I like something with a better fit, too, but we don’t want to be recognizable.”

“It’s so weird to think of you having a style.”

“Black, slim fit not good enough for you?”

“It’s minimalist emo,” Izuku piped up.

“What’s yours?”

Izuku fiddled with his hoodie. “Anti-fashion casual.”

“Cool,” Toga said. “Which hero mask do you want, Tomura got too many.”

“Did you find any of Triton?”

“Yeah, I thought you might like that look,” Tomura said, pulling the cheap, plastic facemask on.

“What look?”

“All of us wearing Triton’s face.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious.” Toga shifted into her chosen form for the evening. Tucking her hair up she asked, “Do we have everything?”

“Yes,” Kurogiri replied. “If we do need more, I can easily get it.”

“Let’s go before Stray gets cold feet.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t,” Tomura said turning and tapping his mask with one finger, “lie to me. You’re about to throw up just thinking about it. My advice? Stop thinking.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“Kurogiri can short-circuit your brain easily enough.”

“While that is a viable patch, should Stray-kun need it,” Kurogiri said enveloping them for transport, “we need him thinking on his feet. This will be the first time he’s faced a hero.”

“Um, I faced All Might!” he replied indignantly.

“Then why are you nervous, Love? You have faced the best and cleared the stage.” Kurogiri kissed his temple, just behind the mask.

“I said I was fine.”

“You are a bundle of nerves,” Toga agreed.

“That’s normal for me.”

“As long as you’re honest about it,” Tomura said as they vanished.

 

Triton was easy enough to push back into old habits. While Stain watched with a disapproving look Izuku was positive that Sensei would share, he, Tomura, and Toga – all three wearing black cargo pants, hoodies, and full masks – threw eggs and toilet paper at his house while Kurogiri filmed it. Tomura took a special delight in covering the man’s vintage car.

They knew he had taken the bait when his signature silver trident came hurtling out of the front door to pin a disguised Toga. She shouted, “It’s just a prank, bro,” mostly to get the other’s attention. Her waist-length blue hair was falling out of her hood.

Tomura took off running with Izuku. Kurogiri made himself scarce.

“Not the greatest friends, are they?” Triton asked. His voice was hoarse from sleep and he was wearing only a pair of navy sweatpants instead of his cobalt blue jumpsuit. Triton’s hair was more silver than blond now, but he still kept his beard trimmed into a thin chinstrap. He made sure the trident head was buried deep in the concrete of his walkway and dethatched the haft. “I’m going to make sure whatever school you kids are from expels you.”

“Sure,” she giggled as he pulled her mask off. “That’s a fair consequence actually. We went way overboard.”

“Take a deep breath, girly, and hope your friends didn’t get too far,” Triton instructed as he gathered an orb of water from his pond and placed it over her face.

Toga tried to scream and struggle, but she was no match for his telekinetic control.

Triton laughed as he trotted after the other two.

As soon as he was out of sight, Kurogiri said, “That’s enough, sweetheart.” He walked over still holding the phone up.

Hidden gills on her neck flared out and the water was quickly drawn through them and away from her mouth and nose. “That hurts,” she complained, coughing a little.

“But you are unharmed,” he replied. He examined her pinned arm. It was so tight against the concrete that her arm was already turning red. Kurogiri pulled on the trident head to no avail. “We will need Stray to free you.”

“Hurry, I don’t like this.”

Izuku and Tomura had skittered into a dead-end alley nearby. Now Kurogiri’s warp gate brought them to her side.

“I could just destroy it.”

“He tried to kill Himiko,” Izuku said. “I wanna make a statement.” He activated One for All and yanked the weapon free.

“Thanks,” Toga said. “We can’t miss this! No one ever gets to see how Stainy works!” She hopped up, rubbing her arm. “That’s going to bruise.”

Izuku leaned down and rubbed his mask against it making an exaggerated kissing noise.

As they warped onto the ally walls, Triton crowed, “I’ve got you now,” but was shocked to find his prey absent. He moved deeper into the ally hoping one of them had a camouflage quirk. The ally was empty. He turned to leave but was startled by a hunched figure at the mouth of the ally.

“False hero,” Stain seethed.

“Are you with those damned kids? The little bastards egged my car!”

“You attack and terrorize children. You left that girl to drown. You were the only one tonight who had a chance at redemption, but you turned your violence into sadism. You are not worthy of the title hero!” Stain’s voice rose as he spoke, from a soft murmur to a frightening scream.

Izuku, Toga, and Tomura stood on top of the ally walls, the latter two recording on their phones. Toga’s arm was clearly bruised. Izuku held the trident head in his hands. “You’re not allowed to have nice things,” he growled, the modulator deepening his voice and adding an ominous echo. He shattered the trident head and scattered the pieces at the end of the ally.

In the instant Triton took his attention off Stain, the hero killer attacked. A small throwing dagger whizzed by Triton’s face, slicing his cheek. Triton grinned and flicked a cap off the end of his trident’s haft. Water whipped out and rushed towards Stain.

The hero killer dodged the attack and sprung forward, leading with a katana. Triton blocked with his haft and the ribbon of water he was controlling struck Stain’s back with a crack like a bullwhip. It would have been impressive if it hadn’t pushed Stain closer to him, allowing the madman’s long tongue to flick out and swipe at the trickle of blood running down Triton’s cheek.

It was over. The water dropped. Triton dropped. Stain kicked him over onto his back and stabbed him through the heart.

Izuku was frozen. He knew they were here to kill the man, but the reality of it was only hitting him now. His vision narrowed. His heart rate accelerated. Sounds were muffled. He felt light headed.

And then, all he could see was comforting blackness as he was enveloped in Kurogiri’s warp gate. Izuku took a slow deliberate, mist filled, breath. He shoved down his rising panic, and queasiness. “Lovely mist, sexy chrome collar, beautiful yellow eyes, adorable concerned expression, annoying, flickering street light. Busy bar, speeding cars, ally sex, gross, obnoxious ring tone. Strong arms, rough roof gravel, warm body. Alcohol, fried food.” He pulled down his mask and kissed Kurogiri roughly, before shoving it back in place. “Much needed delicious boyfriend.”

“Love?”

“I’m fine,” Izuku lied. “All we need to do now is film. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be able to see you from my vantage point.”

“You mean you’ll be keeping a beautiful yellow eye on me,” he said flirtily.

“A loving and protective eye,” Kurogiri corrected as he warped to a different rooftop.

Below, Stain was stalking a tall, slender brunette who was in turn stalking a pair of graffiti artists. Just before she revealed herself, she pressed the plastic rose on her lace choker. The discreet support gear transformed her cute casual after-work outfit into a sailor fuku with a soft pink skirt and collar. There were matching bows in the back, on the front, and holding her hair in a high ponytail. It was completed with lace stockings, knee-high boots, and elbow-length gloves.

The League of Villains followed them, recording. Her flashy entrance included her sending out two whips made of thorny vines covered in roses. The graffiti artists were scratched up and squeezed tight.

Stain leapt into the fray severing the vines. The tangle around the teens fell limp and they struggled out and ran off. Rose Red turned her attention to her attacker.

“Causing unnecessary injuries, taking pleasure in the pain of others,” Stain began.

“That outfit,” Toga said just loud enough for Izuku to hear her. She coughed worryingly.

“Who do you think you are?” Rose Red said. She struck a pose.

Stain struck her with his katana. Rose Red screamed. She lashed out with her vines. While a flash his sword severed them, the mass of thorns still covered Stain in scratches and scraps.

Her shoulder was deeply gouged and bleeding profusely. Izuku held his phone steady but looked away. Nausea welled up inside him. He took several deep breaths. The inside of his mask smelled like rubber and disinfectant. It kept the contents of his stomach in place.

Luckily, Stain didn’t stop and in three strokes, he had decapitated her. Kurogiri enveloped him once more. They were in the bar’s bathroom.

“If it is too much for you,” Kurogiri started.

Izuku waved him off, pulled his mask out of the way, and threw up. He wretch over and over. With his stomach empty, he slid down to the floor in a crumpled heap. A hitched sob escaped him and Izuku let it overtake him.

Kurogiri wrapped his arms around Izuku. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“They’re dead,” he sobbed. “I, I caused…”

“Stain would have killed them anyway. We are only watching, learning.”

“This can’t be right.”

Kurogiri warped the file for Steel Fang into the bathroom with them. “It’s not. But neither is what they did. Look at what this man does, what he gets away with. Love, he will start over with another younger woman. You can stay here, but as soon as the bleeding has stopped on Stain, he is going to finish this.”

“Did-did Himiko get any blood?” Izuku asked still hiccupping.

“I took four pints from each of them, and she is in the process of collecting as much as she can from Stain.”

“I have a handkerchief from Yagi, I wonder if it’s still good.”

“We’ll see, Love,” Kurogiri replied. He pet Izuku’s hair. “Tell me what happened today?”

“Aizawa thought I was Stray. He strung me up with his capture weapon, and kind of choked me so I’d reveal myself. I didn’t know ‘til after, I thought it was a test.” He sobbed, snot dripping onto Kurogiri’s arm. “Sorry.”

Kurogiri grabbed some tissue. “Blow.” Izuku blew into the wad of toilet paper. He wiped the blob of snot off Kurogiri’s arm. “Does he still harbor doubts?”

“No, I didn’t fight back very well so he thinks his colorblindness and trauma confused him.”

“Oh, my precious love, you have had a rough day. Do you want to wait in the upstairs bathroom? I’ll finish up with Stain, then come home and pamper you properly.” Kurogiri helped him to stand as his sniffles subsided.

“No, I wanna stay with you. Besides I don’t trust Stain with Tomura.”

“Very well.” He held Izuku until they heard Stain yelling at Toga.

“Get off me, girl.”

There was a bit of a scuffle and Toga responded with, “Awe, Stainy, just a little more?”

Tomura laughed and came into the bathroom. “Are you two ready? I told Stain you were fucking. Given that kiss, he bought it with no problem. Anyway, we can’t really delay him any longer.”

“Yeah,” Izuku said. “Just about.” He moved to the sink and splashed water on his face. It smelled metallic and was tepid. He rinsed his mouth. The water tasted like copper, which wasn’t helpful. After adjusting his contacts, he put his mask back in place. “Let’s go.”

 

The plan was a bit more risky with this one. His favorite hangout was a cop bar, and the crowd was likely to follow. Toga was dappled with blood from her attempts at collecting it from Stain and trying to hug him. She burst into the dive bar out of breath and shouted, “Villain! Villain with a sword! He – he killed them. Oh god.”

A middle-aged man in a sleeveless jacket, showing off the thin scars crisscrossing his broad torso approached her. “Calm down, miss. It’s gonna be okay. Where was all this?” He flexed his hands in his fingerless gloves as if he was itching for a fight. His black eyes were too eager to be kind as he led her outside by the arm.

Toga was careful to jibber uselessly unless asked a direct question. “Just down this ally. Please it’s dangerous.” She tried to pull away from him. As expected, he gripped her arm tighter.

“I’ll protect you.” he smiled in a predatory way. The thin diagonal scar from above his left eye to the corner of his mouth twisted his features ever so slightly. Otherwise, his strong jaw and short dark brown hair made him very handsome.

Toga let him drag her with him. She was glad that only a few of the patrons were following. As soon as Steel Fang passed a cross ally Izuku used One for All to shove a dumpster in the way. The small crowd shouted. Steel Fang turned to see the commotion. Toga twisted free of his grip and danced away.

“You’re in trouble~.”

Izuku tossed a second dumpster onto the first. The crowd scattered, likely to locate another hero. Stain would have to be quick. Izuku leaped up to the rooftop and started recording. He felt numb this time. He leaned heavily on the low wall around the roof he was on. He appreciated Kurogiri’s thoughtfulness in selecting his vantage point.

Steel Fang reached into his mouth and withdrew a katana of his own. Stain’s grimace became a wide, manic grin. Steel Fang knew how to fight, and he prioritized keeping Stain at bay. Stain didn’t hesitate to throw knives. Steel Fang largely blocked them, but a few did hit him. He kept moving, kept circling. This allowed Stain to maneuver to where one of the knives was.

Izuku preferred this to the beheading. He actually noticed Kurogiri collecting blood, while Toga distracted Stain. He reminded himself that these people were evil. They did hurt people. This wasn’t the right way to fix things, but it was a way.

 

Kurogiri warped them all into the bar. He, Tomura, and Stain reviewed the footage. Toga started spamming the manifesto video to every seedy social media site she could think of. Izuku was still numb from it all, but he pulled up a dark web app on one of the burner phones and started uploading the videos there, raw and uncut.

“Stray?” Tomura asked.

“Longevity,” he replied in what would have been a monotone, if not for the voice modulator. He made a mental note to get Giran a fruit basket or something; a bottle of whisky. He’d ask Kurogiri later what the etiquette was. “The internet is not forever, but the dark web may as well be. This is pretty shallow, tame stuff; Suicide idealization websites, serial killer fan sites, and stalker community boards. But Stain is pretty popular already, so it’ll spread quickly.” He started uploading the photos and documents as well. “Now we won’t have to try as hard to keep everything up.”

“You seem unwell,” Stain pointed out.

“Post coitus,” Tomura said snidely.

Izuku shot him a look that in his dulled, numb state could be misinterpreted are annoyed but Tomura’s warm smile in return showed he knew it for the gratitude it was. “I need a nap.”

“Not much more we can do tonight,” Toga piped up. “You three go downstairs while I help Stainy get cleaned up!” She squeed and grinned; holding her fists under her chin, she wiggled her hips a little.

“No,” the hero killer replied dryly. “I have work in Kyoto.”

“Very well,” Kurogiri replied. “We will be in touch.” He opened a warp gate next to Stain. As soon as the man was through – Kurogiri again clipped the long red scarf – he turned to the others. “Shall we eat downstairs?”

“Up to you,” Tomura said, heading around the bar. “Toga and I could just make freezer foods. Stray –”

“I’m fine.”

“Ah, bullshit,” Tomura replied to the interruption. He tossed Toga the first aid kit and grabbed a bottle of whisky, a bottle of simple syrup, and a lime. “Kurogiri will take care of you. We can look after ourselves tonight.”

“Thank you,” Kurogiri said. He stepped over to Tomura, pulled a tray out, and put a bucket of ice, a cocktail shaker, and a citrus press on it. “Do either of you need a shower?”

Tomura shook his head, pulling his things, and a few more lemons and limes on the tray. Toga cocked her head, thinking it over, then shook her head as well.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked, as I suspect we’ll be spending a long time in there,” Kurogiri informed them.

“The bar has a toilet,” Tomura said as he headed for the stairs.

“If you need anything…” Izuku started.

“Yeah, yeah, won’t hesitate. Not like you two will be having sex.”

 “Take some glasses as well. Do not drink out of the shaker.”

Toga giggled and followed Tomura down the stairs.

Kurogiri scooped Izuku into his arms. “Let me spoil you, Love.”

Izuku was thrilled to be lifted by strong solid arms. The warmth leached into the numb cold he was feeling. Kurogiri warped them into the bathroom.  He stripped Izuku slowly, folding each item and putting them aside for cleaning.

When he pulled Izuku’s collar out of the pocket, Izuku whimpered. “Oh, Love. I wouldn’t ask that of you after what happened.” He placed it on top of the pile. “I promise to wait.” Kurogiri took off his own collar and placed it with Izuku’s things. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Izuku nodded in response. He wrapped his arms around Kurogiri’s neck when he approached. “I want you to take advantage of me.”

“Oh?”

“Last time you said you were bad and you’d do bad things, but you just washed me and held me. Be bad.”

“Alright, Love,” Kurogiri agreed, but Izuku had his doubts. Kurogiri always made him be specific. “Get your contacts out while I start the shower.”

Izuku washed his hands and face before pulling the contacts out. He stared at the green eyes in the mirror. He blinked at the stranger in front of him. Then the leftover taste of bile got to him and he brushed his teeth.

Kurogiri came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his chest. “I love you,” Kurogiri said as he guided Izuku to the shower bench.

“I love you too,” Izuku echoed in a strained voice. While Izuku normally enjoyed watching the interplay of the rolling stream and Kurogiri’s swirling mist, now guilt overwhelmed him. He curled in on himself.

Kurogiri kissed Izuku’s neck and cheeks. Tilting his head up by the jaw, Kurogiri said, “God, you are beautiful,” and began kissing his freckles. He used the shower wand to wet Izuku as the boy whimpered and leaned into the gentle affection. Kurogiri began running a soapy rag over Izuku’s skin.

“I love you,” Izuku murmured cupping Kurogiri’s cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love you too,” Kurogiri replied, just as easily as the first time they had said it to each other. Just as easily as every time he’d said it.

“I don’t know when I’ll want to be tied again,” Izuku admitted, pulling his knees up closer to his chest.

Kurogiri took his wrists and gave them a soft squeeze. Izuku looked at him curiously. “You are perfect. And I will wait for you to be ready.” He placed Izuku’s hands on his own wrists. Izuku gave a return squeeze and was rewarded with a sensual moan. Kurogiri caressed up his arms and down his chest. “You are safe here, Love. We will never hurt you, never test you. You never have to lie to us. If you want to stop, to leave, anything you can.”

Izuku chuckled. “Like Sensei would allow that.”

“You’d be surprised,” Kurogiri said as he continued to gently run the soapy washcloth over Izuku. His touch was still soft and delicate as he ran his hands indulgently over Izuku’s torso.

“Yes, as he rips every quirk from my body. Now that I have One for All, best case he’d treat me like the new All Might.”

“Not if you never stood against him or Tomura. I know you would never betray or hurt him.” He knelt to wash Izuku’s legs and feet.

“Yeah. He – he doesn’t have a lot of people or trust easily. I wouldn’t wanna hurt him like that.”

Kurogiri poured a generous dollop of shampoo into his hand and began working it into his hair. As the black dye turned the white suds a dirty grey, Izuku sat frozen; his shadow coiled tightly around him.

“Did I – is something wrong?” Kurogiri asked as his nails worked across Izuku’s scalp.

“Aizawa… he washed my hair and back after – after. When he realized I wasn’t Stray.”

Kurogiri tensed. “Did he touch you?”

“No. It was… like he was trying to make up for hurting me.”

He leaned against Izuku’s back. “I’m glad we’re spared the trauma of having to kill him.” He rinsed Izuku’s hair and gave it another, thorough wash. Izuku was sitting stone still. “Love?”

“I talked Yamada out of turning him in, out of talking to my mom. They did tell ‘Kuu’ a version of what happened,” Izuku continued, tiredly.

“Sanitized by you?” he asked rinsing his hair again.

“Yeah. Aizawa admitted that he fucked up, but what we did at the club pushed him over the edge.”

“He still handled it wrong.”

“Like helping Stain kill people.”

“Would it make you feel better if I said he was no better than us?”

“He’s never killed anyone.”

“Neither have you. You were pushed into our lap by an uncaring society, Kacchan’s bullying, and an accident. He assaulted a student because he thought you were Stray.”

“He was right.”

“He still handled it wrong.” Kurogiri wrapped his arms around Izuku. “If he suspected you, he should have reported it, and let the police investigate. One stakeout and you’d have been caught. Now we know to be careful, to never leave from the park, and that your mother is watching.” He hummed. “I think Toki and Hiki should pay a little visit.”

Izuku whipped his head up, the spike of adrenalin wiping away the last of his numbness. “Do not send Tomura to my mom’s!”

“It’s not as if I meant while you weren’t there, Love, but separate visits are fine. Toga can play both parts.” Kurogiri tightened his hold. Izuku relaxed.

“I’m not sure I can do this.”

“You don’t have to.”

Izuku laughed. “You keep saying that, but… it’s not true. Even if Sensei wouldn’t kill me for leaving, how could I abandon Tomura? Or stay away from you?”

“I have a stake in you staying, of course, but I’m not lying when I tell you, Sensei would let you go. He’s a reasonable man. He values loyalty, and you are loyal to a fault.”

“He’d let me go to see if I came back,” Izuku said. He grabbed a fresh washcloth. “Your turn.”

“But I’m spoiling you,” Kurogiri said. 

“You’re more likely to be bad this way.”

“I’m not going to hurt, punish, or take advantage of you. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replied automatically. “But I should be hurt. I did something awful to him, and I can’t even apologize. I deserve to be punished.”

“I will never hurt you, Stray,” he said, giving in and trading places with Izuku. He pulled Izuku onto his lap. “Look at it this way, tit for tat has been fulfilled. He may not know it, but you do. He got back at you for what we did. Now it’s on me to pamper you, to make up for my part of it.”

Izuku hugged him, the shower hiding the tears running down his face. “I’m a monster.”

“You are far from a monster, Love. You are such a good influence on Tomura. You bring light into our life, our home. Even Sensei has said how interesting your point of view can be, and how inquisitive and insightful you are.”

“Great, the eldritch horror in the karaoke machine thinks I’m interesting.” Izuku sobbed, clinging to Kurogiri.  

Kurogiri turned off the water. “I think it’s time to soak.”

Izuku shook his head and turned it back on. “Wanna wash you, too.”

“You don’t have to,” Kurogiri assured him. 

Still crying, Izuku lathered the washcloth. He was racked with sobs as he gently scrubbed Kurogiri’s back. His shadow tucked tightly against his skin; scarcely mingling with the mist swirling around him as he washed his partner. 

True to his word, when Izuku moved around to wash Kurogiri’s arms and chest the man kept his touch chaste and comforting. He caressed Izuku’s arms, chest, neck, and cheeks, frequently murmuring praise and terms of endearment.

Before Izuku could kneel to wash Kurogiri’s legs, he was pulled onto his lap again. Izuku smiled despite his remaining tears. He nuzzled his cheek. “You sure you won’t take advantage?”

“I love you, so no.” Kurogiri grabbed the shower wand and began rinsing off.

“You save that behavior for unsuspecting heroes in shady nightclubs?” Izuku said, impishly.

“It won’t happen again,” Kurogiri promised.

“I mean, I don’t want to do that again, but I’m not mad about it.”

“But you are upset about it.”

“I–” Izuku stopped. “Yeah, I am, but not at you. I keep thinking that it’s okay for you, Toga, and Tomura to do bad things because you’re villains. That’s just how villains are. But I’m trying to be a hero. I talk a big game about heroes being held to a higher standard but I just go along with whatever you and Tomura want. Maim a guy? Hell, it was my idea.  Kill All Might? Sure. Work with Stain even though I hate everything about him? Absolutely, I’ll even push his agenda online as a test balloon to see if the public would support a radical change to the hero system. Molest my teacher? Fuck, it was a turn on. I’m just like you. I’m not a hero. I am a villain.”

“It’s never been a clear binary. We live in the darker shades of grey, but we all want a brighter world.”

“That’s a very pretty, and tempting sentiment, but –”

Kurogiri sighed. “If you are going to insist that you are a monster, then Love, be a monster with me.”

It warmed Izuku’s heart and soothed his worries in a way the overt compliments and reassurances didn’t. He was loved. He was worthy of love; of Kurogiri’s love at least. In that moment, it was enough. His shadow engulfed Kurogiri; mist, steam, and shadow mingled.

Kurogiri turned the shower off and lifted him smoothly. Izuku was wrapped in a towel while the tub was filled. He was exhausted and achy. His head started to pound. “Ugh.”

“Love? Here, have some water before we soak.” Kurogiri filled a glass from the sink and offered him some aspirin.

“Thanks.”

“It will be alright.”

“No, it won’t, but at least I’m not alone.”

Notes:

Bio Cards
Name: Takeshi Houshin "Triton"
Kanji: 滝 法心
滝 waterfall, cascade
法 law, 心 heart, mind, spirit
Quirk: Aquakinesis - User can telekinetically control water (cannot control other liquids)
Description: A retired hero and current teacher with a vicious streak
Affiliation: Shiketsu High School
Birthday: November 20
Height: 6'4"
Blood Type: B
Likes/dislikes: Seafood, vintage cars, long walks on the beach. Kids these days, vandalism, politicians that are soft on crime.

Name: Shizuru Katarao "Rose Red"
Kanji: 紫蔓 荊尾
紫 purple, violet, 蔓 vine, creeper
荊 thorn, a general term for thorny shrubs, 尾 tail, end, suffix
Quirk: Thorn Whip - User can create and control thorn-covered vines
Description: A hero/teacher who uses excessive force to subdue petty criminals
Affiliation: Shiketsu High School
Birthday: September 2
Height: 5'9"
Blood Type: AB
Likes/dislikes: Cute outfits, flower arranging, jewelry.

Name: Shiba Tetsuhara "Steel Fang"
Kanji: 侍刃 鉄原
侍 samurai, warrior, knight, 刃 blade, edge
鉄 iron, steel, 原 origin, source, foundation
Quirk: Blade Creation - User can create knives and swords from their mouth, as long as they have any metals in their body
Description: A retired hero with a vicious streak
Affiliation: Shiketsu High School
Birthday: December 7
Height: 5'11"
Blood Type: A
Likes/dislikes: Empathetic women who put others first, family traditions, a cold beer after work.

Chapter 53: A Hero's Heart

It was not alright. Stain was standing over Tomura, ranting about how unworthy they all were. Blood pooled around them, and the smell made him nauseous. Suddenly, he was in Kuroi Ba’s basement, clutching a thick spine. His legs couldn’t support him. He fell against the wall and vomited blood. He looked at the spine again, only to find he was clutching Rose Red’s severed head.

Izuku flung it away and fled down the grungy alley. He managed to power through the tangle of thorny vines, but every way he turned was a dead end. The passages seemed to get narrower and narrower.  He stumbled over Toga’s drowned and waterlogged body. He fell to his knees and started CPR. Every time he gave her rescue breaths, she coughed up blood.

He saw a hazy and indistinct figure watching him. It reminded him of Yagi; tall and lanky with two prominent bangs. There was a crowd of shadowy figures with him. ‘Yagi’ beckoned him closer. Izuku continued to work on Toga, but she kept shifting into other people. Tomura, Kurogiri, his mom, Yagi, Shinso, Mei, Todoroki, Bakugo, Yamada-Sensei, Aizawa-Sensei.

Aizawa-Sensei looped his capture weapon around Izuku’s neck and pulled it tight. Izuku was hanging from the ceiling in the nightclub. His classmates were all dancing and having a good time. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t hear what Aizawa was saying, but he knew: Show me your heart, hero.

Shadow Bind lashed out and restrained Aizawa. A tall woman with steel grey eyes and her long hair held up in a messy bun stood beside him, her hand on Izuku’s right shoulder. Bits of her form were shadowy and hazy; her other arm, her legs, chest, neck, and mouth.

Izuku felt a hand on his other shoulder. He felt calm. The steady thrum of his healing quirk washed over him. His feet were on the ground, and to his left was a man with a cat mutation. He had black fur, a wedge-shaped head, long ears, and amber eyes. His torso and legs were hazy, but his arms and face were clear.

The three of them were alone on a flat, featureless plain. The starry sky above them seemed to ripple with the hazy formlessness that covered his new companions.

Izuku tried to speak to them. Looking down, he saw that he too was covered in haze.

“We are with you,” the cat signed.

 

Izuku woke in total darkness, covered in sweat. He gasped for breath. His shadow was tightly cocooned around him and Kurogiri. It hurt. Both the strain on his shadow and the pressure it caused. Izuku forced himself to let go.

“Sorry,” he croaked and broke down sobbing.

“Love,” Kurogiri breathed. He moved to sit behind Izuku on the bed. He pulled his lover to his chest. “Love. It is all right. I am all right. We are safe. It is all right to cry. Let it out.”

Between choking sobs, Izuku tried to explain his fragmented nightmare. Kurogiri held him, caressed him, and murmured in his ear.

Slowly, Izuku began to calm down. His shadow explored the room: the soft pillows, the smooth surface of the dresser, the plush rug, the rough bricks. His hands alternately gripped and caressed Kurogiri’s strong arms. Soon, he heard Tomura and Toga laughing in the living room, and he was overcome with the need to see them.

Kurogiri followed him without a word and smiled indulgently when Tomura squawked about the surprise, snotty hug he received.

“Damn it, Stray! Wipe your nose! And get me a towel. Disgusting.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry! Just get me something to wipe your snot with.”

Toga laughed until she too got a wet hug on his way to the kitchen. “Yuck. You need another shower.”

“Sor–”

Toga cut off his apology with a rough, whisky-flavored kiss. “Tissues for your issues~.”

Izuku laughed wetly. Kurogiri handed them each a tissue and some hand sanitizer.

“I love you guys.”

“I am not drunk enough for this emotional shit,” Tomura said. “Sit down and drink with us.” He pushed a freshly made whisky sour with lime at Izuku.

“I don’t drink,” he said weakly.

Kurogiri gathered him in his arms and sat on the couch next to Tomura. “You have water, I’ll have the whisky.”

“Thanks,” Izuku said, snuggling into Kurogiri’s chest.

 

Yagi awoke, stretched, searched his apartment for pranks, and was pleased to find none. He opened his door slowly. He prodded the paper before picking it up. There was nothing today. Tension eased from his body as he sat at the table to read the news.

Tension slammed back into him so hard he could swear he felt his non-existent stomach knot. The headline read: Three Slain by Stain. It was accompanied by pictures of the Shiketsu High School teachers. Yagi read the article with increasing trepidation.

 

“Sho?” Hizashi asked as his husband stared in mounting horror at his phone.

“That’s the girl who was with Stray and Kurogiri in the club!” he shouted, jumping up.

“Stain is working with the League of Villains?” Ryo asked, taking the phone. It displayed a still image of a young woman’s face next to a hastily posted article on a fly-by-night news site.

“I’m going to the station. I need to see that footage.” Shota headed for the door.

“Sho, wait. Nezu will have better luck getting them to share information across prefectures. You need to sleep. You look like a crazy hobo.” Hizashi pushed a vibrant green breakfast smoothie into his hand.

“You’re not going to tell me to let it go?” he asked. Shota made a face when he tasted the smoothie, but he allowed himself to be herded back to the couch.

“No, babe. We’re gonna get these bastards and every fucker connected to them,” Hizashi said, pulling him into a tight hug. “Now, please get some rest today. Ryo and I will talk to Nezu.”

“I’m going to need a nap before that,” Ryo admitted. “I know you want this done quickly…”

“No, you stay with me until Nem shows up. I’m not in a good place, and I make stupid choices.”

“Alright,” Ryo shoved him down and lifted his feet onto the couch, “Nappy time.” He lay over the top of him.

“Heavy,” Shota commented.

“Want me to move?” Ryo adjusted so he wasn’t smothering Shota.

“Nah, good heavy,” he clarified.

Hizashi snapped a picture before heading out.

 

Izuku was cleaned, dried, and fed before he was returned to his mother. Inko was already laying out yoga mats for their morning stretches. A simple breakfast was waiting on the table. And for one horrible moment, Izuku thought that the world would just go on as it always had. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” Inko asked, rushing over to him.

The morning news played its ‘breaking news’ jingle, and the daytime anchor was staring grim-faced at the camera. “Stain killed three Shiketsu High School teachers late last night. A statement was released early this morning. Police have asked that we not play the message or footage from these crimes.”

“Oh my god.” Inko wrapped her arms around her son and guided the now sobbing boy to the couch. She turned the TV off.

 

“I’m going to the hospital,” Shoto announced, pulling on his sneakers.

“Hold on,” his father called sternly. “We’ll give you a ride.”

“Whatever.” Shoto pushed the old-fashioned door aside. “It’s not that far.”

“I have something to drop off,” Endeavor insisted. Once they were in the car and Kurumada had started the engine, Endeavor explained, “These flowers are your mother’s favorite.” His voice was softer than Shoto had ever heard it. “Anyway, I’ll tell you the same thing I told your siblings: I won’t stop you from seeing her. It’s your choice, but with that, it’s also your responsibility. If she says or does anything that hurts you or makes you uncomfortable, leave. Let the doctors know. You don’t have to tell me anything, and you don’t have to keep anything secret.”

Shoto tisked dismissively.

Endeavor rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why did I think you’d take this seriously?”

“I wish Mom had raised us.”

“So do I,” he growled. “I wish she had left me. I wish I knew how to be a good husband, a good father, a decent man.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. Endeavor pushed the sleeve of his business suit up to reveal his hero costume underneath. “But this is all I know. The only thing I’ve ever been good at. I thought you’d come to understand.”

“Why don’t you let Mom come home?”

“Her being released from the hospital is between her and her doctors. I took her to get the help she needs. However long that takes. Besides, that house would be a prison to her all over again. Fuyumi took over as your mother’s emergency contact when she turned twenty. I only get the most basic of updates now,” Endeavor said, almost sadly. “I mean it, Shoto, if she – if she regresses and tries to hurt you again, get out of there.” He brushed the hair off the right side of his son’s face.

“This won’t make me forgive you.”

“I’m not asking you to. Any of you.”

The car pulled up in front of the hospital. Shoto got out before it was properly stopped. Endeavor said nothing, but Kurumada called, “Shoto-kun,” sternly and nodded to the flower vase. Shoto grabbed the deep blue Autumn Bellflowers.

 

Izuku’s sobs had stopped a while ago, and he held his mother, just sniffling quietly. The apartment was otherwise silent. Inko was softly petting his hair, having long since run out of empty reassurances. The desire to tell his mother everything burned in his throat. He knew it would destroy her. It would destroy him. He’d never see his friends again. Any of them.

“I hate Kacchan. He’s always been mean to me, but I followed him around anyway because he was the only one who never told me to leave, and I was so scared of being left out entirely.”

It was a strange thing to confess at this moment. It seemed apropos of nothing, but Izuku felt lighter, ever so slightly, for saying it.

“Baby,” his mother said. Her voice was soft and soothing, with a hint of concern. She continued to hold him. “I’m so sorry. I never knew it was that bad. I should have known.”

“I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“Baby. Izuku. You are not a burden. You’re my son. I love you with my whole heart.”

 “I love you, too, Mom. It’s just. I know raising me was hard, stressful, and Dad left us, I mean, yeah, he sends money, but he was gone.”

“Izuku, he took that job to provide for us. I know it’s difficult, but you know your father loves you, right?”

“No? He left right after I was diagnosed; he didn’t visit or even call when I was in the hospital.”

Inko flinched. “There-there was some kind of crisis at the office.”

“There’s always something! He never has time to call. It’s so bad even Kacchan noticed!” He pulled away. “I know – I know you love him, and I don’t want to get in the way of that. I don’t want to be the reason you’re alone. You’re all by yourself, and it’s my fault. If I had your quirk, or dad’s, things would be better.” Izuku drew his knees up to his chin.

His mother threw her arms around him. “No, they wouldn’t. At least, not regarding your father. He got that promotion before you were diagnosed.”

Izuku sniffled. “It doesn’t explain why he didn’t show up when I was in a coma for a week.”

“I’ll call him. I’m sure it was a very good reason.”

It wasn’t what he’d thought he was going to confess to her, but he felt happier than he had in a long time.

 

Shota groaned. He was warm and comfortable. He did not want to get up, but he had to pee. “Ryo. Ryo, wake up.”

“Mm. Time is it?”

“Time to get off me.”

“Comfy.” He snuggled into Shota’s chest.

“I need to get up.”

“You make bad choices.”

“Not this one. I have to pee.”

Ryo grunted and rolled onto the floor. “Oof.”

“I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Sounds good.”

Shota staggered to the bathroom. After he relieved himself, he splashed cold water on his face. “Fuck.”

“You feel bad about what happened with Midoriya,” Ryo said from the hall.

“I feel bad about what I did to Midoriya,” Shota corrected. “It’s not like when he pushed himself too far and dislocated his elbow. I hurt him, intentionally.”

“And you want to be punished for that.”

“There should be some consequences!”

“Easy enough. No unsupervised exercises; that includes training your class as well as Shinso and Midoriya. And Yamada does not count as supervision; Midoriya’s mother doesn’t count either. It has to be someone you see as an authority of some sort. I’m usually available during class time, and All Might can supervise during extra lessons. It’s only a week until the end of term, so all next term.” Ryo was leaning casually against the wall.

“Thanks,” he said dryly. It wasn’t much of a punishment, certainly not what he deserved, but it could keep him from spiraling while there were more important things to worry about. (Why were Stain and the League’s activities more important than what he’d done? He didn’t deserve to feel better, to be cared for, cared about. He’d hurt his student.)

“It’s what I’m here for.”

 

Nezu watched the footage of his adopted son being molested by villains. He compared the small flashes where the assailants appeared to the footage from the USJ incident and the attacks from last night.

“She has a good throwing arm for a dead girl,” he muttered. The girl’s name was Aina Ishikawa, and she had died of a drug overdose sixteen months ago.

The other two joining her in egging Triton’s house, and his vintage Mazda Cosmo, were definitely Stray and Tomura Shigaraki, despite their thin disguises. The logical conclusion was that Kurogiri, the warp gate, was filming.

He was inclined to keep the age range at his original estimation; they were too juvenile to be more than in their early twenties, but they coordinated well enough that they all had extensive training. Plus, the way they had organized the dissemination of Stain’s manifesto and the evidence against the latest three heroes, he would be hard-pressed to say any of them were teens.

It didn’t speak of genius. It spoke of experience. The language used on the Dark Web sites to house the raw files was the fluent slang of that site. It was often different from site to site, and even the use of, or lack of, emojis and leet speak matched the etiquette of each site. The problem was determining which uploads were done by the League and which were just re-uploads. Then he’d know which sites they frequented enough to know the local parlance.

Nezu sighed and sipped his tea. It was going to be a long day, and now he wasn’t looking at three profiles but at least five. He was glad to have the police’s full cooperation.

 

Endeavor spent the day poring over the map of Stain’s kills, injuries, and sightings. Three attacks in Osaka, in a single night. Teachers. His pattern had changed, and his targets had changed. Citizens were questioning why they were targeted and not how the maniac could do something like this.

He’d talked with his PR and tech divisions about the internet uproar Stain was causing. He didn’t understand it, but he trusted his people. The best course of action was to bide their time and assist whenever the fiend was spotted. The overtime he was paying would be worth it when he was caught, regardless of who got the credit.

The unease he was feeling might go away with Stain behind bars.

Endeavor sighed as a sidekick pressed a water bottle and a protein bar into his hand. “Gotta keep your strength up, boss.”

“Why are you all so obsessed with feeding me?”

“You always make sure we eat and hydrate,” he replied, a tad confused. “This thing with Stain … You’re hyper-focused on it. We’ve got your back.”

Endeavor nodded and opened the bar, eating even though he didn’t feel hungry, and it tasted like ash.

 

Izuku followed his mother listlessly through the market. They were picking up a few things to make katsudon together. He shuffled along behind her, carrying their purchases.

“Finally hit the teenage angst stage, huh?” the middle-aged vendor at Inko’s favorite fruit stall asked.

“I’m afraid we’ve skipped it entirely and are dealing with real grown-up angst,” Inko said warmly.

Izuku snickered and moved up beside her to bump her shoulder affectionately with his. “Thanks.”

She looked at him quizzically.

“For taking me seriously.”

“Always, Izuku,” his mother replied.

“Hey, let’s get something for dessert tonight. Oh, I know! We can make our own tarts. It’s super easy.”

“I don’t have a good crust recipe, but we could get premade,” Inko relented.

“I know a great crust recipe,” Izuku assured her as he started gathering ingredients.

“Did Kuu teach you?”

He paused, his steps faltering. “I latched on to the first father figure that showed me any support; it’s not my fault he’s so domestic.”

“Oh, sweetie! I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I’m just interested to know what all goes on at your gym.”

Izuku nodded. “Kuu likes to teach us to be responsible adults; cooking, cleaning, and money management. The things nobody is gonna do for us.”

Inko petted his hair and smiled at him. “He sounds very responsible.”

 

Yagi was surprised when his phone rang. He hesitated before answering, gripped with fear that his pranksters had somehow gotten his number. “Hello?”

“What does your schedule look like this week?” Aizawa asked, skipping a greeting.

“Are you talking about the Stain killings?”

“No. Never over the phone.”

Yagi blinked at the serious, deadpan tone. “Alright. Mostly just school, I have one public appearance on Tuesday, and if I haven’t found a place by Friday, I’m spending all of Saturday moving my stuff into storage.”

“Shit. I’ll have to double-check with Zashi, but we could put you up here while you search,” he offered. “Actually, Friday and Saturday are a large part of why I called. I, uh, need some help with Midoriya’s training. No, fuck. That’s not exactly it. Can you come over? It’ll take some explaining, and I don’t wanna get you in trouble with your landlady for being too loud.”

Yagi furrowed his brow in confusion. “Sure, I can come over.”

 

It did not take Yagi long to arrive, and Aizawa escorted him up without saying much, or even meeting his eyes. Yagi worried about what could be wrong. So much had been happening in the last few weeks that it made his prankster problem seem trivial.

“Aizawa-kun?” he asked as they entered the apartment.

“Have you had lunch yet? I cooked enough for three,” Aizawa responded. “You should eat before we start, if you’re going to.”

“Uh, no. I’m not hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Yagi blushed. “I, uh, um. I skipped breakfast.”

“Eat.”

 Yagi sat at the table next to Inui. Aizawa dished him up. “Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on? It isn’t just Stain’s latest spree, is it?”

“No,” Aizawa said tiredly. “Just eat first.”

Yagi ate mechanically. It did taste good, and it was the perfect amount, but he had been so stressed lately, and Aizawa was behaving oddly. “There.”

“I’ve been training Shinso and Midoriya after school on Fridays, and just Midoriya here on Saturdays. He was here yesterday because his mother let him off his grounding early. He’d let me know earlier in the week, but forgot to tell Hizashi.”

“Oh, my. Did he see something he shouldn’t?”

“I wish,” Aizawa said with a humorless laugh. “No, we were sparing. Scratch that, I wasn’t being fair. I had interrogated him about Kuu, and the instant his guard was down, I trussed him up in my scarf. I, fuck.” He exhaled. “I told him it would be easy for him to get down, and he tried. He tried so hard. When he figured out that he couldn’t do it, he even asked me to teach him how. I’d just taught him that lesson the day before.” He shook his head. “He doesn’t think he can ask adults for help, and I just reinforced that.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “When he started to give up, I looped the capture weapon around his neck and told him he just needed motivation. I kept pushing him until he broke.”

Aizawa fell silent, and Yagi wanted to hit him. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“That he was Stray.”

“Midoriya?! You think Midoriya is Stray? Midoriya, who organized Classes 1-A and 1-C into a group audition during the sports festival? Midoriya is, by your own evaluation, vulnerable, eager to please, and has no regard for his own well-being. How fucking dare you. He is the kindest, cleverest, most determined, and resilient. How long did you –”

Aizawa hung his head.

“How long!” Yagi snapped.

“Thirty minutes, maybe forty-five,” the man replied softly.

Yagi stood abruptly. He really did want to hit Aizawa, now. But years of wielding the incredible power of One for All had taught him impeccable self-control. “If you…” He shook his head. “Don’t ever come anywhere near my successor again.” He started to storm out when a question from Inui stopped him in his tracks.

“Successor?”

“I am not explaining this in front of him,” Yagi growled. “He doesn’t get to know.” He stormed out, leaving the door open behind him.

Yagi strode down the hall to the stairs, only to find the door locked and requiring both a code and a card. He tried to recall the elevator code, but he hadn’t been paying attention. He considered asking one of the neighbors to walk him out, but that could possibly embarrass Yamada as well. And it wasn’t as if Aizawa paid them any mind.

Instead, he barged back into the apartment, shut the front door, and headed to the balcony.

“Wait,” Inui pleaded. “Just calm down. Where are you going?”

“To check on my student.”

“I’m sorry,” Aizawa said. He stood and took a step towards Yagi.

Yagi whirled on him. “Do you have any idea how much that doesn’t matter? You’re a teacher for crying out loud. You know he has self-esteem issues and that he puts everyone before himself. The only way you could have fucked this up more would be to sleep with him!”

Aizawa steeled himself as if for a blow.

Yagi puffed up into All Might. “Oh, no, you’re not getting off that lightly.” He strode to the balcony door. He was careful opening it. He stepped out, bent his knees, and was gone with barely a ruffle of the breeze.

 

Yagi, properly deflated to be seen in public, crossed paths with Izuku and his mother a block from their home. He trotted up to them and exchanged bland pleasantries. “I hope I’m not intruding,” he said as they entered the apartment, “but Aizawa-kun told me what happened.”

Izuku turned to him, a brief flash of anger on his face, and hugged him. “I know, it’s so terrible, what Stain is doing! I’m just glad it wasn’t Yuuei teachers.”

Yagi returned the hug and patted his back. “Yes, that’s very tragic, but a bit further from home than I was referring to.”

“Because more people I know and love being killed by that monster wouldn’t be traumatizing,” Izuku said, muffled by his chest.

“Are you all right?” Yagi asked.

“Yeah,” Izuku said, lifting his face with a hopeful expression.

“Good. I want you to know you don’t have to be around him if you don’t want to.”

Izuku’s expression turned to one of panic, and he looked torn for a brief moment. “I’m sure Aizawa-sensei exaggerated dramatically. It’s nowhere near as bad as he thinks it was.”

“He said it went on for forty-five minutes, Midoriya,” Yagi said softly.

Inko stopped putting the groceries away to listen.

Izuku tensed up. He couldn’t say anything in front of his mother. “Er, that’s a gross exaggeration. Look, I’m going to talk to Inui-sensei about the whole thing on Tuesday.”

“I’ll cancel my appearance to give you a ride home.”

“During lunch, Yagi-san. Look, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“You didn’t tell your mother what happened,” he realized.

“It was just a rough training session. It was a bit emotional, sure. Here,” he pulled out his notebook, “We started journaling our self-care.”

“Midoriya,” Yagi said softly.

His successor looked up at him pleadingly. “He’s my only way into the hero course.”

“He’s not. You’re a talented –”

“Kan-sensei hasn’t shown any interest in Shinso or me, has he?” Izuku asked. “Or Asuka-kun or Fukami-chan either, even though we all placed in the top sixteen. Placing in the top four hasn’t gotten me noticed. My quirk isn’t good enough. Keeping up with Kacchan and Shoto isn’t good enough.” Tears welled in his eyes. “Nothing I do is ever enough, and I thought he was different. I thought he believed in me!”

“Midoriya,” Yagi whispered. He was at a loss for how to comfort the boy. He hugged him again. “I believe in you. More than I have ever believed in anyone. You are going to be the best hero, no matter what obstacles are in your way.”

The boy sobbed harder at that.

Inko joined them and rubbed circles on Izuku’s back. “It’s okay. Cry it out, Izuku. I’m sure Aizawa believes in you. He said he was going to give you quirk counseling to help you deal with trauma. It sounds to me like he cares a lot.” She looked up at Yagi. “Is there something I should know?”

“No,” Izuku managed between sobs.

“It’s okay, sweetie, but I’m getting a second opinion. Yagi-san?”

“How could it not be as bad as he says, if it’s got you like this?”

Izuku shook his head. “S'not that. I – it’s.” Izuku struggled to get his sobbing under control. “I don’t know how to explain that that,” he waved one hand vaguely away from himself, “wasn’t that bad. This,” he gestured to himself, “is about other stuff. God, there’s so much other shit going on. I just wanna get into the hero course. Can I just focus on one thing for a while?”

“Aw, baby, you’re overwhelmed. Of course, you can focus on school if you want. Or even have a break from that, if you need to. Whatever you need. Your happiness is important.”

“Thanks.” What he needed was to be caught, locked up, and punished. For Yagi to take back One for All. For All for One to be defeated. All things that he was never going to get. But at least his mother cares about him. He’d take comfort in their love even if he knew he didn’t deserve it.

After all, the only thing that had kept Aizawa-sensei from finding out that he was Stray was Izuku's misunderstanding of the assignment. He snorted at the thought. He sat up and wiped his eyes. “Mom’s right, sometimes you just need a good cry.”

Chapter 54: Coping

Notes:

Yay! I've been officially posting this fic for a year! Thank you to everyone who comments, especially deconstruktor and Dark_Ace_Raven; my regulars. ♡♡♡

“You wanted to see me?” Shota asked as he entered his father’s office.

“Yes. Have a seat, young man.”

Shota moved toward the chair in front of his desk.

“On the sofa, please.”

“Okay,” he said a little confused. He flopped down and leaned forward. Resting his elbows on his knees, he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Look, I know I fucked up. I know there’s only so much you can protect me from. I’ll put in my resignation; just let me have the rest of the year, please.”

“Shota,” Nezu said scoldingly. “That is enough. Lay down.”

“Sure,” he slumped over. “Might as well do this at eye level.”

Nezu pushed his shoulder down so he was flat on his back. “There.” He clambered up and curled into a ball on Shota’s chest; his head tucked under Shota’s chin. “Hush now, my little pinky, everything will be fine. I will always love and support you.”

Shota chuckled coldly. “Get off. This is serious.”

“No.”

“If you want to coddle someone so badly go find Midoriya, he’s the one that got hurt.”

“He has his own parent to take care of him. You are my pinky.”

“I was bad.”

“And I agree with Inui about your punishment. Although, in all fairness, Inko Midoriya should be told, and before her son is transferred into your class. We can go together.”

“You gonna pack me a juice box, too?”

Nezu nodded in his little ball of fur and professionally tailored suit. “And a bento.”

“With star-shaped fruit slices?”

“Stars and flowers.”

“Heh. I always thought that was cute.”

“Good, because I’m not joking,” Nezu said firmly.

“Dad.”

“No.” He snuggled in tighter. “You should have called me. Now, I’m going to make your lunch every day for the rest of the year. My poor, sweet pinky. It will be so cute. I’ll make you kitty-shaped rice balls.”

“Dad.”

“No. This is your punishment. I know it’s harsh, but as a caring parent it’s what I must do.”

“Oh my god Dad, you are impossible.” Shota wrapped his arms around Nezu. Tension eased from his body.

“Good.”

 

Tuesday at lunch, Izuku waved off his friends and took his bento to Inui-sensei’s office. He sat on the couch and put the bento on the table. “Have you talked to Aizawa yet?”

 “Yes.”

“It’s not as bad as he thinks.”

“You have information he doesn’t?” Inui asked.

Izuku paused, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “Uh, I mean, sure. He only knows what it looked like from the outside; not what was going on in my head.”  

“So, what was going on in your head?”

Izuku shifted a bit, uncomfortably. “It was fine at first, just a little annoying that I couldn’t figure it out. Then I thought he must have been trying to teach me to ask for help. I mean teamwork is a big part of being a hero. So, I asked him. But that wasn’t it. He kept making it harder to breathe. Even though I know he checked the tension. I know he wasn’t trying to hurt me. I panicked. Things that remind me of almost drowning in my own fluids, kinda, you know, set me off.”

“A reasonable reaction. Why do you think that’s not as bad as Aizawa is making it out to be?”

“Well, I wasn’t scared of him.”

“Triggers are not a joke. Just because –” Inui cut himself off. “If one of your classmates was abused and your hair reminded them of their abuser, what would you do?”

Izuku shrugged. “Cut it, dye it. Whatever.” He shoved a bite of katsudon in his mouth.

“Whatever it took to make them comfortable?”

“Yeah,” Izuku replied.

“What would you do if you knew something was wrong, but they refused to tell you what?”

Izuku thought for a moment. “You think I’m keeping something from Aizawa.” He looked Inui in the eyes. “I’m not. I cry easily. I started having a panic attack. I’m not mad at him. I’m not scared of him. I don’t blame him.”

“Why not?”

“Um? Why would I? It’s not his fault.”

“Whose fault is it?”

Frowning, Izuku replied, “You think I blame myself. I don’t. I blame the villains that hurt Aizawa-sensei.” He left out the fact that he was one of those villains. 

“But you do understand that he is responsible for his own actions, right?” Inui asked.

“Yeah,” Izuku replied with a shrug. “But …” He stopped. There wasn’t anything he could say that would explain his lack of resentment. “It will be handled appropriately. He talked to you, and Nezu, I’m sure. What would me being upset accomplish?”

“I’m just worried that you’re taking this too well.”

“Sorry?” Izuku said. “I guess I’m just a little numb. I fell four stories, a few weeks after the anniversary of my coma, my friend was murdered, his killer is still on the loose, and my shot at getting into the hero course is looking slimmer and slimmer, and I know how selfish that sounds in light of everything else, but hey, it’ll make my mom happy! She’s worried that villains will attack again and I’ll get hurt.”

“Those are a lot of adult concerns.”

“Oh, you wanna hear the stupid teenage woes?” Izuku asked with a dry laugh. “I have a boyfriend for the first time. His dad is, not exactly homophobic, but certainly not supportive. I’m also attracted to Shinso and Mei. And I think Yaoyorozu has a crush on Shoto. Kacchan and I are friends, I guess. I think I have a roiling resentment towards him. And his parents, our middle school, my dad. Ah, fuck,” he said. “That’s dangerously close to an adult concern.”

Inui laughed. “Let’s talk about that.”

“Uh, not much to say there. Dad got a job in Fiji when I was five.”

“School?”

“Teased and bullied since I was little, for being quirkless. Teachers just told the other kids I was ‘delicate’.” He shrugged. 

“And you handled all of this on your own.”

“It’s not like mom abandoned me. I chose to handle things myself. It causes less grief.”

“For who?”

“Everyone.”

“Everyone but you.”

“Mom cried less. We were happier. It was less grief for me, too.” Izuku took another bite of his food. “So, I just kept my head down. It’s not like the teachers were doing anything for me in the first place. I got more protection trailing after Kacchan like a lost puppy.”

Inui nodded. “What would you say is the worst thing that’s happened to you?”

“Counting the fall and coma, that. If you mean other than that… hmm. The moment I knew, I truly knew that Kacchan hated me.” He was quiet for a moment. “It didn’t hit me at first. When he fell into the stream and I ran down to check on him, I thought he was just mad. He hates being ‘looked down on’. His mother really did a number on him, trying to reverse the inflated ego the teachers gave him.” He paused, with a contemplative look. “Anyway, sometime later, at the end of a school day, he was calling me stupid and useless to amuse his friends. Then, out of nowhere, he said I needed to remember my place and not look down on him. He didn’t need a stupid Deku’s to save him. He had a quirk. Then he hit me in the back full force with it; fingers stretched wide to maximize the area.  Of course, I started crying. A teacher rushed over. I didn’t, couldn’t say anything. Kacchan told me to stop being such a baby. The teacher ignored the smoldering shirt and told Kacchan not to roughhouse with me; the quirkless boy is delicate, remember. It hurt so bad; like putting your hand on a burner. When mom patched me up I lied and said it was an accident.”

“Have you talked to him about this?” Inui asked, his voice was tight with the effort not to growl or whine at his student’s horror story.

Izuku laughed. “This is the first time I’ve talked about this at all. Hell, I only told my mom that Kacchan and I have problems this week. The memory didn’t stick because it was unusual, it wasn’t. He did shit like that all time, even before the creek thing. It sticks because I realized he knew how much it hurt and that no one cared. He could hurt me whenever he wanted to, and he did want to. That’s not something friends want. Shinso would never hurt me. Shoto would never hurt me. Hell, Toki would beat wholesale ass if he even thought somebody was hurting me. Friends protect each other. Hiki keeps giving me self-defense weapons. Mei has a whole sketchbook of costume designs for me and ideas about support gear I could use. Iida was gonna help keep Kacchan in line. Kuu taught me how to defend myself, to stand up for myself.”

Inui buried his face in his hands. “Midoriya. I’m going to give you a worksheet about trauma. And this one for your mother. They’re basic introductions to dealing with trauma, living with trauma, and identifying the root causes of your trauma.”

“That’s a lot for one little worksheet.”

“It’s more of a packet.”

 

Minoru listened to the other six students in his sewing class as they discussed the best way to disguise armor when it ‘ruins the lines’ of an outfit. He pushed the purple fabric he was working with through the machine; it wasn’t the exact color he wanted but it was just a prototype.

“Color blocking.”

“Look at my vital points, all color-coded. Lame.”

“Under layer.”

“Yeah, no. Way bulky.”

“Protective material integration?”

“Doesn’t that have the same problem as color blocking?” Minoru asked. He had thought it would be cool to design sexy costumes for hot babes but the first month of material was focused on anatomy, common injuries, and how to protect against said injuries. Just from reading the chapters and talking with the teacher about it, he’d conclude that costumes like Midnight’s and Mt. Lady’s were all about looks and not about functionality at all.

“Kind of? It’s less obvious, but, yeah you’d have differences in texture and shine, and of course, seems,” Kato said pushing his blond lock out of his face. “What are you working on?”

“A Midnight-themed microwavable neck pillow that strips down to her debut costume. The outer layer is machine washable, and can be scented for relaxation and sleep aid.”

“That is actually really cool,” Kato said with a nod. “I think she’ll go for it.”

 

“What’s the scariest part of being a hero?” the young counter-culture talk show host asked. His long, black hair was undercut on the sides and braided down his back. He was wearing a grey tee shirt with All Might’s iconic belt buckle on it, a black zip-up hoodie, three necklaces, a studded belt, and white jeans.

The cameras were supposedly not rolling, but he was well-known for these pre-interview questions. All Might wondered if anyone fell for this trick after the first season. He gave the question the full consideration of a proper interview.

“Well, there are lots of different kinds of scary, Aikon-kun. In the field, adrenaline coursing through your veins, lives on the line, there just isn’t time to be afraid, to worry, to second guess. You act. You make literal life-and-death decisions without conscious thought. You rely on instincts.” He leaned his head back and covered his eyes with his arm. “The fear from that comes after. Freezing when a flash bulb goes off, so you don’t lash out at the source because you’re still in fight or flight mode. Pretending you pulled a muscle because an officer has the same name as someone you failed to save and you don’t want them to see the color drained from your face. Joking about a ‘waste of good sushi’ because it distracts from the fact you just threw up at a disaster scene after thirty years of doing this, but it never gets easier to watch them load kids into the morgue van.”

“That’s…” the young man floundered.

“But the scariest part?” All Might continued. “Is when those battlefield instincts start leaking out into day-to-day life. Making snap judgments with little to no information. Going with your gut. Being quick and decisive. Even the friendliest of heroes gets to be rough around the edges after a while; worn down under the regrets caused by acting without thinking.”

“Okay, okay. Something lighter. How do you like teaching so far?”

“It’s tough. The students will reach for any height you ask of them. They trust their teachers to set goals they can reach and they will break themselves to achieve them.”

“Obligatory follow-up: How is everyone handling Stain?”

“You mean Tenya Iida’s death,” he replied bluntly. “It was certainly a wakeup call for most of them, even in the wake of the USJ attack. His classmates are… they’re doing their best. Yuuei has a dedicated counselor for them.”

“Yesh, that was not light. Uh, but on the subject of Stain, he’s been bandying around your name. Any comment?”

“I look forward to seeing him in Tartarus. He’s nothing but a murderer desperately trying to justify himself. No matter how badly the system needs overhauling, killing innocent people is never justified.”

“But you do admit that the system needs overhauling?”

“Every system needs updating from time to time. I know plenty of good heroes that don’t get paid what they’re worth because being famous would impede their job.”

“What about the latest three victims?”

“More would have been accomplished by turning that evidence over to the police, or even a journalist.”

“You are on fire. Speaking of: Your thoughts on Endeavor?”

“He has the highest incident clearance rate in Japan.”

“Come on, come on, what about personally?”

“There is no personally there. We’ve never worked together and I think we’ve crossed paths twice in the last ten years.” All Might paused. “He has the highest incident clearance rate in Japan. By all rights, he should be the number one hero. That’s another area I think could use some retooling.”

“Shit,” Aikon said. “Fuck, dude, it’s only supposed to be a two-minute spot. How much gold do you plan on giving me?”

All Might shrugged. “They were good questions, and you did specifically request honest responses.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s get some B roll and go over the questions the studio wants me to ask, and the tweets from viewers.”

“Nothing sexual,” All Might said sternly.

“Just a few light ones, please.” He crossed a few lines off a sheet of paper

“I won’t pretend not to know what a DILF is for your amusement.”

“Okay, okay. How about these?” He handed All Might the page.

“This is pushing it, but I’m responding in dad jokes and you can’t stop me.”

Aikon laughed. “Perfect. Look straight into camera three.”

All Might muttered, “I’ll try.”

“Fuck, fuck man. You know that shit won’t pass censors, you’re killing me.”

He smiled. “The hashtag number one is a tall glass of water, and I’m thirsty.” He shifted his gaze to the camera. “Hello, Thirsty, I am All Might.” He paused for a beat. “But in all seriousness, stay hydrated!”

 

The school copy machine hummed as it spat out copies of both the trauma packet and the trauma support packet. Izuku read the introduction paragraph on the warm copy in his hands. The first page was all information, chunked up to be more digestible. He contemplated filling out the first section of questions but decided to wait until he got home when he found it was just space to write out his traumatic experiences and how they were affecting his life.

He continued reading on the way home, actually needing Bakugo to yank on his sleeve when they got to their stop.

“What could possibly be so interesting?”

“Therapy.” Izuku thrust one of the packets at him. “Here, I made one for you to read. You could fill it out, but that would be between you and your therapist.”

“I don’t have a therapist, Deku.”

“Yet.”

“I don’t need one.”

“Yet.”

“Shut up. I’m not weak.”

“Didn’t say you were.” He shook the packet. “Even Endeavor’s agency has an in-house therapist.”

Bakugo snatched the packet. “What’s to stop me from just blowing this up?”

“It’s about my problems, not yours. As my brother, you should at least be informed, even if you don’t take it seriously.”

“Whatever.”

 

Izuku handed his mother a copy of each trauma packet. “Inui-sensei wanted me to give these to you. I have my own copies to fill out, but we could go over them together if you want,” he said in a rush.

“Would you be comfortable doing that?”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug that implied otherwise. “It’s mostly reading, and I’ll fill it out later. You should know what’s going on.”

“Okay, do you want to wait until after dinner?”

He shook his head. “I was hoping to head to the gym a little early today; work the heavy bag.”

“Alright,” Inko agreed. “What’s first?”

 

“Who wants to do therapy with me?” Izuku flopped down on the couch next to Tomura. 

“What?” He asked.

“Hound Dog gave me homework. I thought it would be fun if we all did it.” He looked at Tomura’s dull expression. “It’s not like I’m gonna turn it in. We can fuck around with it. But it’s not like you have to. It’s meant to be fun.”

“Fine; but I want to fill it out in glitter pen.”

“Me too!” Toga cheered.

“Hell yes!”

Kurogiri provided each of them with a glitter gel pen, and read the first paragraph to them. It was a definition of trauma. Each of them highlighted different parts. Tomura rattled off the trauma risk factors as it was clearly the smallest section. Toga started to breeze through the symptoms section, but she paused to underline a few with a worried look. “These are just really generic, right? Like astrology profiles?”

“They must be,” Tomura agreed. “It says it’s not a comprehensive list.”

“Right.” She continued where she had left off.

Izuku got saddled with the longest section, the treatments, but he read it happily and even pointed out what things they were already doing. For him parkour was exposure therapy, calling out each other’s bullshit was very nearly cognitive behavioral therapy, and the support they gave each other was basically group therapy. “All we’re missing are meds and a therapist.”

“We have alcohol,” Tomura said.

“Welcome to dysfunctional therapy. I’ll be your host: Anxiety Disorders and Self-worth Issues,” Izuku replied with a laugh.

“Hello, my name is Toga and I want people to love me as much as I love them while being too afraid of rejection to be my real self around anyone.”

“Hi, Toga,” the boys chorused.

“Hey, I’m Tomura, and I can’t fucking believe there are only five spots on this PTSD timeline worksheet. That shit will cover maybe this year. And it has been a good year.”

Izuku blinked owlishly at him for a moment before saying, “Hi, Tomura,” as if he were meeting him for the first time.

“Hello, I am Kurogiri and I have amnesia and flashbacks to things I cannot remember while engaging in a string of toxic or outright abusive relationships and raising a child as a single parent.”

“Fuck,” the younger three said together. “Hi, Kurogiri.”

“May I join you?” Sensei’s voice came through the TV.

Izuku froze for a moment, having forgotten that they could be monitored here. “Uh, sure. We’ll need another copy of the packet.”

“Mine is relatively unmolested,” Kurogiri offered. He opened the cabinet that housed their printer/scanner/copier combo and made another packet. He also set the poor printer the job of making an ungodly number of PTSD timeline worksheets. Then he warped Sensei to them, while Izuku and Tomura ran upstairs to grab drinking supplies.

“Hello, I am Shigaraki and I lost my parents at a young age, and was forced to raise my sickly little brother in a world that alternately wanted to kill us or worship us like gods.” He adjusted the hose on his portable oxygen.

“Hello, Shigaraki,” the four said as if meeting this enigmatic man for the first time.

Sensei sat on the couch next to Tomura. Kurogiri made them both whisky sours, Tomura’s with a twist of lime. He made a very weak rum and coke for Izuku, and Toga, of course, requested the same thing.

“Okay,” Izuku said, “but you’re picking the next one.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I can handle my liquor, Stray-kun.”

“Healing quirk, sweetheart,” he said, leaning over to kiss her.

Kurogiri mixed himself sake with lime. “What was next on the agenda, Love?”

“Uh, so trauma timeline is a lot to unpack,” he flipped to the next page, “so let’s move on to recognizing anxiety!”

“Oh my god,” Toga giggled. “Put an X where the bad vibes touched you, Stray-kun.”

Izuku made a few small, glittery, royal blue Xs on the awkwardly posed and proportioned human outline; stomach, heart, and head. He also circled nausea and racing heart on the section for what best describes anxiety in your body.

“Okay,” Tomura said after taking a sip of his drink. “Let’s make this fun. Semi-reverse ‘never have I ever’. You list a thought or action that increases your anxiety, everyone else who experiences the same takes a drink. Round is over when either the first glass is emptied or the first person is out of things.”

“I am glad Kurogiri is mixing the drinks. I have never been drunk before.”

Toga asked, “Are we counting really obvious things?”

“Yes,” Tomura said. “Stray is new; he might not have even had some of the things yet.”

“Okay. I’ll go first. What would it feel like to be stabbed by that knife right now?” Toga said.

Tomura and Sensei sipped their drinks.

“Everyone would be better off without me,” Izuku blurted.

Everyone but Kurogiri drank. He pulled Izuku off the arm of his chair and into his lap.

Tomura glanced at Sensei. “I’m not good enough. If I were better bad things would stop happening.”

Everyone drank.

“What if the reason no one loves me, is that I’m unlovable?” Sensei said.

Everyone drank.

“For the record,” Izuku said. “I love you guys.”

“Even me?” Sensei asked with a smirk.

“I’m not drunk yet,” he replied.

Sensei laughed. It was light and full of genuine humor. He slung his arm around Tomura’s shoulders.

“What if I hurt someone I love?” Kurogiri asked.

Everyone drank. Toga drank twice.

“Hmm. If you could read my mind right now, you would hate me.”

Everyone drank. Toga shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

“I’m a monster.”

Everyone drank. Sensei drank twice. He smiled at them; a small sliver of perfect teeth reminding them he was an apex predator.

“I could kill them and no one would know.”

Everyone but Sensei drank. “I started gathering followers when I figured out how difficult it is to get away with acquaintance murder, in high school.”

“Oh,” Izuku said with a nod. He wasn’t sure anymore if the warmth he was feeling was from cuddling in Kurogiri’s lap or the alcohol.

“That he’ll come back.”

Izuku drank.

“I’m not real.”

Everyone drank. Sensei emptied his glass.

“What’s the next one?”

“Shit that calms your anxiety,” Izuku replied.

“Finish your drink, I’ve got the perfect one,” Toga said to him.

Izuku nodded and they both drained their glasses. Toga ran upstairs while Kurogiri refreshed Tomura and Sensei’s drinks, the latter switching to a neat whisky. Toga came back up and poured herself and Izuku some peach soju.

“Sharing my favorites with loved ones.”

Everyone drank. Izuku coughed.

“I’m okay. It’s good actually. I like it.”

Toga leaned over and her lips mashed against his. Izuku hungrily pushed back, heat rising in his cheeks as her tongue touched his; quick, electric, and delicious. He was more drunk on the taste of her than the little bit of alcohol he had drank. She pulled away, smiling like moonlight through the clouds.

Izuku swallowed. He took a sip of his peach soju. Finally, he collected himself. “Physical contact with friends.”

Everyone but Sensei drank.

“The right snacks.”

Everyone drank.

“Journaling.”

Izuku drank.

“A hot bath.”

Everyone drank.

“Stabbing that special someone.”

Sensei drank. Tomura hesitated, but eventually, he drank too.

“I mean, not stabbing, but… close enough.”

“Um,” Izuku took a drink. “I feel better every time I bloody Kacchan’s nose. It was easier to stay silent when I unleashed on Shinso. And it eases my anxiety to know that I’m not the only one.” He gestured to the four of them with his glass.

Everyone drank.

Tomura clutched his Yakuza pinky necklace in three fingers. “Focusing on happy memories.”

Everyone drank.

“Isolation.”

Tomura drank. Toga hesitated, then took a small sip.

“Solving someone else’s problem.”

Izuku took a drink. “That felt targeted, but okay.”

“Let’s get Stray drunk!”

“No,” Izuku said. “This tastes good, and I don’t wanna ruin that.”

“Sex.”

Everyone drank.

“Toga, play nice. Please,” Izuku pleaded. “Uhh, cry is definitely a big one.”

Toga and Kurogiri drank.

“That never makes me feel better,” Tomura said. “Alcohol.”

 Everyone but Izuku drank.

“Antagonizing people just for the attention.”

Tomura and Toga drank.

“Retail therapy.”

Everyone drank. Sensei hesitated, but eventually, he drank too. “As Tomura said, ‘close enough’.”

Izuku laughed. They continued playing until his glass was empty, then they moved on to the next worksheet.

Chapter 55: Consequences

It was early Wednesday morning when Inko heard a knock at the door. She half thought that Izuku must have forgotten his key, but she glanced through the peephole just to be safe. At the sight of a darkly dressed, nondescript man, she reflexively touched the scar on her arm. She sagged in relief when he turned toward the door to knock again and she recognized him as Aizawa-sensei.

Inko opened the door as he was still wrapping lightly. “Good morning, you’re here early. Is something the matter?”

“Not exactly,” an unfamiliar voice said. A small, white, furry head popped out of Aizawa’s scarf.

Inko gave a startled squeak at the mouse-dog-bear-like creature.

“Nothing new has occurred. We’re just here to go over what happened on Saturday. To make sure you have a full grasp of the situation,” he chirped.

It had taken her a moment, but Inko recognized the principle of Yuuei. “Principle Nezu! Oh my. Izuku’s not in any trouble, is he? I understand that something happened, but not what exactly.”

“I see,” the principal said in a grim tone. “May we come in?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Inko led them through the hall and into the main room. “Please, have a seat.”

Nezu hopped from Aizawa-sensei’s shoulder to the back of the couch. Aizawa-sensei sunk to his knees and lowered his head to the floor. Inko was baffled by his behavior and it gave her an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

“I am deeply sorry for my transgression. I know what I did was unforgivable.”

“What happened?” Inko’s voice was shaky. Yagi hadn’t told her, but he had been so upset, and now this.

Aizawa didn’t lift his head, but he spoke in a clear tone. “On Saturday, Izuku arrived at my condo at six-thirty. He had let me know earlier in the day that he was off his grounding early, but he didn’t inform Yamada. Neither did I.”

“The two of you live together?” Inko asked, already knowing the answer. She felt like the floor was going to swallow her. Nothing good could come from her baby being alone in a teacher’s home, but she would take bad over worse.

“Yes. he was out having dinner and drinks with another member of the staff.” After a moment of silence, he continued, “We’re dating. We’d be married if it were legal.” He tensed as if he thought the admission would upset her.

The delay was more frightful. “I hope that’s not relevant. Continue.”

“I sent him into our home gym to warm up while I started dinner and fed the cats. When I joined him, I told him to pick any weapon on the rack, as we’d be sparing. He went with a bo staff. As we sparred I asked him about Kuu. He denied my accusations and dismissed my concerns. Then I,” he gripped his scarf with one hand, “tangled him in my capture weapon and suspended him from the ceiling. I lied to him and said that it would be easy to get free. I kept interrogating him until he gave up. I kept pushing him until he broke.”

Inko said nothing. The floor did not open up and swallow her. Her quirk took hold of the scarf and pulled. She tried to stop but each time she thought about her baby hanging and defenseless it would yank the offending weapon again. “Why?”

“I have no excuses. I was stupid and not following protocol. Izuku looks startlingly like a villain that attacked me during the internships.” He stayed prostrated, his hand even returning to the floor.

“How?”

Aizawa hesitated. “The villain covers the lower half of his face, but they have the same hair and eyes, and their builds are similar.”

“How did you break protocol?” she clarified. Inko had worked with enough pro heroes over the years to know that most of them didn’t actually think much of the Hero Commission’s protocols, but she wanted him to say it. Her quirk gave a particularly sharp tug to the scarf wrapped around his neck.

“I should have informed someone and conducted an investigation; I never should have confronted him.”

Inko narrowed her eyes. “The penalty for assault without injury is up to two years, or a fine up to three hundred thousand yen. Judges do not go easier on heroes.”

“While that is true, Midoriya-sama,” Nezu piped up, “according to Article 38 of Japan's Constitution no person shall be convicted or punished in cases where the only proof against a suspect is his/her own confession.”

“You think Izuku would deny it?”

“He has already done so three times to my knowledge; to you, to Yagi, and I presume to our noncurricular guidance counselor, Inui-san. In light of that, he likely wouldn’t face any punishment from the judicial system; not even the loss of his hero license. I could get his teaching license revoked if you’d like.”

Aizawa hunched in on himself. It was something that Izuku did when he was scared or uncomfortable.

Inko’s expression softened. “All Izuku wants is to be a hero. He just wants to get into the hero course and he said that Aizawa is his only way in. Is that true?” Her quirk continued to pull at bits of his scarf, tightening the loops around his neck.

Nezu cocked his furry little head. “It is true that Kan-san has no openings in his class and tends not to take on students midyear. We do have a system where a student who had sufficiently impressed the heroics teachers for their year may earn a spot in the next year’s class, for heroics lessons only of course; Izuku certainly qualifies for that. And if Aizawa-kun is replaced, Midoriya-kun would have an opportunity to impress the incoming teacher.”

Inko bit her lip. “If. If I agree, because let’s be honest, you came here to make sure Yuuei’s reputation is safe. If I agree, there have to be consequences.”

“Of course. What did you have in mind?”

“Five hundred thousand yen to start,” she said firmly. “From him; not you, not the school. He can set it up in a trust for Izuku, like a college fund. It’s almost enough for a year’s tuition. Now, how do I simulate two years of prison?

“Two years is seventeen thousand five hundred and twenty hours,” Nezu replied.

Inko nodded. “Community service then, but time at school, with students, and hero work do not count. Eight hours a week.”

“I like you,” Nezu said cheerfully. “I just need to turn that 'if' into a 'yes'. How?”

“I need to know that my baby will be safe and happy.”

“Happy I cannot guarantee. Safe I can. No more unsupervised time, no more training at the condominium, they will use the ample facilities at Yuuei and no more use of the capture scarf against Midoriya-san.”

“And any other considerations to his safety that come up, of course.”

“Of course.”

“I really feel like raking you over the coals,” she said plainly.

"Then, by all means, Midoriya-sama, rake.”

She looked at the principal’s unblinking, glossy black eyes. “An additional sixteen hundred thousand yen, from whomever. Let’s just fully pay for his college.”

Nezu nodded, calm, and if Inko didn’t know any better, smiling just a little.

“Trauma counseling.”

“Already attending.”

“Anger management.”

“Interesting choice. Sure.”

“Sensitivity training.”

“Do you have a particular course in mind?”

“Disability Awareness for police and heroes, provided by CDP Certification Services.”

“Hmm. Interesting that you had that right off the top of your head, Midoriya-sama.”

“I’ve sent some… particularly difficult clients there.”

“Clients?”

“I’m a certified social media consultant and I’ve worked with a few low-rank pro heroes over the years.”

“Fascinating. Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.” She touched her arm. “There is one, very un-heroic impulse. One nagging intrusive thought.”

“Go on.”

“If he had to go through what Izuku did. Ah, but two wrongs don’t make a right. And Izuku said that what really bothered him wasn’t what happened but that he thought Aizawa was different, that despite his best efforts, Izuku just wasn’t ever going to be good enough.”

“Ah, that… would be difficult to replicate.”

“Fuck,” Aizawa said softly.

“But anxiety is a bitch,” Nezu said. “He feels like shit, which is appropriate given the situation. When I called him to my office to discuss it, he thought he was being fired. Although, if you requested it, that would still be on the table.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Inko said. “Please get up. Izuku will be home soon and I don’t want to explain this,” she gestured at Aizawa still on the floor. At least her quirk had stopped trying to subtly strangle him, “to my son.”

Aizawa stood and leaned against the wall by the door. “I am sorry.”

“Good.” She looked him in the eye. “I might even accept that apology when your sentence is up.”

“You do know I can never complete that, right?”

“It would take forty-two years with just eight hours a week, but only eight and a half if you did forty,” Nezu supplied.

“And fourteen if I find a way to volunteer all of Sunday, which is the only free time I have as it is,” Aizawa added somberly.

“Then it really will feel like a prison,” Inko said dryly.

“Is there an option for parole?”

“Not at this time, but I might be more lenient once Izuku has graduated… college.”

“Heh. I’ll take it.”

“There is one other thing, Midoriya-sama,” Nezu said. He waited until she turned to face him fully before continuing, "I would like to get Midoriya-kun’s honest take on the situation before we finalize anything. It may upset him.”

She thought for a moment before agreeing, “I’d like to hear what happened from his point of view as well. Who knows I may find more coals.”

“Perhaps. I hope not, but it’s best to be sure.”

 

Izuku skipped up the stairs to his mother’s apartment. He hadn’t drunk enough to get drunk last night, and Kurogiri had made sure he stayed hydrated. “Oh. My. Tail’s swinging, maybe I’m in love~,” he sang and he closed the door behind him. “Le-Le-Le-Le-Legoshi~.”

 “I’m in the kitchen, baby. We have guests.”

Izuku was a bit startled when he entered the living room to see that their guests were Aizawa-sensei and Principal Nezu. “Oh, hey. Uh, did, did something happen?”

“Nothing new,” Nezu replied from the couch. Aizawa leaned silently against the wall next to the living room door. “We just needed to follow up with you and your mother about the training incident.”

“Oh? I thought that was done.” Izuku looked at Aizawa and gestured questioningly.

Aizawa just shrugged his shoulders and dropped his gaze to the floor.

Izuku pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It is school policy,” Nezu informed him in too bright a tone.

He looked down at Nezu and schooled his expression into a nearly neutral one. “Ah. Well, what do you need?”

Inko turned to face them, frowning.

“If I can get an accurate recounting of the event from you, that would be that last thing before I make any decisions.”

“Yeah, no problem. I can type it up and email it to you.”

“It would be faster if you just told me.” Nezu paused. “Unless you are uncomfortable discussing it in front of Aizawa.”

“I’m not uncomfortable around him.” Izuku stared into the unblinking black orbs of the principal. “Fine. Whatever.” He flopped down next to him. “Uh, I got to Aizawa-sensei’s place at six-thirty. Maybe a few minutes early. He was waiting out front, even though Yamada-sensei usually walks me up. Um, he fed the cats and started dinner. He’s been trying to observe my quirk, so feeding me is kinda, I don’t know, polite, I guess. I went into the training room and stretched. He told me we were sparing, and I could use anything I’d like because we’re trying to find a signature weapon for me. Nothing really jumped out, so I’ll probably end up sticking with the staff as I have a lot of training with it. He started badgering me about Kuu because apparently you guys aren’t done picking that apart. I explained, again, that nothing was going on. He started our sparing session with a cheap shot. I got trussed up by his capture weapon and he didn’t let me down right away when I said I couldn’t get out by myself.” Izuku stopped.

Nezu’s nose twitched in a disconcerting manner.

“It triggered a panic attack.” Izuku couldn’t get a read on Nezu. He seemed at once to stare into Izuku’s soul and to be glassy-eyed and vacant. “Um, yeah. So that’s it.”

Nezu was quiet for a long time. Eventually, he cocked his head to one side and said, “That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Very well.” Nezu hopped off the couch. “With the information you’ve just given me, I have no choice but to terminate Aizawa’s employment.”

“What? No. You can’t do that!” Izuku looked frantically back and forth between the two.

Aizawa looked up, shocked as well.

Inko moved into the living room.

“If you are too afraid to tell the truth, Midoriya-kun, then –”

“Stop!” Izuku stood. “I’m not lying. There’s no reason to fire him. And if you do –”

“Young man,” Nezu barked. “This is not a negotiation.”

Inko froze, her hand outstretched to comfort her baby.

“Yes, it is. I can and will take my ball and go home. Don’t test me,” he practically snarled.

The atmosphere in the apartment shifted; the air was still save the uncomfortable tingle of One for All, barely bridled beneath Izuku’s skin. Then it wasn’t writhing beneath the surface anymore. Erratic, green, crackling energy pulsed around him straining his bones for a moment as adrenaline coursed through him. The atmosphere became oppressive, almost a physical force pushing down on them, and Izuku eased into a stance; one foot sliding the coffee table back.

Aizawa moved away from the wall with startling speed. He was reaching over the couch, his quirk flashed on; the tips of his hair barely rising before falling again.

“Shota, table. Midoriya, couch.” Nezu snapped, unblinking; unfazed. “Sit.”

Izuku sat. He landed on the coffee table and gulped air. For a split second, a tingling numbness had washed over him, like tepid bathwater. He pooled his shadow beneath him, resisting the urge to cocoon himself in it.

“Now, Midoriya-sama and I will discuss what is going to happen. Neither of you need to speak unless one of us asks you a question. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Aizawa answered.

Izuku nodded.

“Apparently not.” Nezu spoke as if to a very small, dense child, “Midoriya-kun, when you are asked a question, you need to speak the answer. Now, try again. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he replied quietly.

“Izuku,” Inko said just as softly. “Why are you fighting so hard for him when he hurt you?”

“He didn’t hurt me. He scared me,” Izuku looked up at his mother, “a little.”

“Izuku, he could have hurt you very badly.”

“Kacchan has hurt me, more than once, but you don’t mind me hanging around him,” Izuku replied sharply. He regretted it as soon as he said it. “Sorry, mom. I didn’t mean –”

“That’s enough,” Nezu said, calmly patting his head. “You’ve given yourself anxiety, silly boy. Just be honest with us, it can’t make the situation any worse, now, can it?”

I’m Stray! he thought. “Okay, he scared me a lot, but not… I never thought he was going to hurt me. He kept checking to make sure I wouldn’t get hurt. I knew I wasn’t in danger, I just thought he was going to give up on me if I didn’t figure out the lesson.” Izuku scrubbed tears from his eyes. “Everybody else has either given up or dismissed me from the start. Yamada-sensei said Aizawa fought for me, after seeing what I could do without a quirk.”

Nezu nodded and turned to Inko. “You’re son’s quirk is quite the unusual one, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s been an adjustment,” she admitted, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Midoriya-kun’s quirk is complex and growing. So far, we know it allows him to heal rapidly. That alone has far-reaching implications and pitfalls. He builds muscle in hours and muscle memory in days. Midoriya-kun is stronger and more agile than he lets on. I believe he has become accustomed to underachieving to avoid negative attention from his peers.”

Inko nodded. “He was bullied a lot in elementary school. I had thought it had calmed down in middle school, but,” she shook her head, “Izuku had just learned to keep his head down and bear it.”

Nezu nodded. “The hardest thing Yuuei will teach him is to stand tall.”

“Will Aizawa-san be there, to see it through?”

“If you’ll allow it.”

Aizawa cleared his throat, and although he was seated with his back to them, he hunched his shoulders further when Nezu raised his eyebrows at him.

Inko was quiet. She looked at her son, his eyes wide and pleading. She looked at Aizawa with his long hair concealing his face. Izuku’s quirk was frightful and complex but Aizawa could turn it off in the blink of an eye. He could teach Izuku how to control his new power. “Of course, Izuku needs to know that Aizawa-san hasn’t given up on him.”

“I don’t give up on my students,” Aizawa said, “I give them enough rope to hang themselves.”

“Phrasing!” Izuku piped up, nearly returning to the joyful state he’d come home in.

Inko scrunched her face at him. “No parole for you.”

Aizawa laughed dryly. “Are you really okay, kiddo?”

Izuku cocked his head. “I’m not any more damaged than I was. Best I can do.”

“For now,” Nezu said. “Would the two of you consent to going to breakfast with us? There is a place not far from here that’s started serving a cheese blintz and I’m dying to try it.”

“Nezu.”

“We’d love to,” Inko replied as if to spite Aizawa. “Oh, but, um, we’ve started stretching in the mornings.”

“We would have no problem waiting, or even joining you,” Nezu replied cheerfully. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I’m not very fit,” Inko admitted, blushing.

“Then proper stretching is all the more important,” Nezu said encouragingly. “We would love to join you, but would also understand if you were uncomfortable with that.”

“I think it's okay,” she replied. “We only have the two mats, and I don’t know how much use you’ll get out of the routine.”

“All stretching is good as long as you’re doing it right.”

“God this is weird,” Izuku muttered as he rolled the mats out.

“Is it?” Nezu asked him.

“Yeah, one of my teachers and the principal of my school want to do yoga with my mom. It’s like having tea with Cthulhu.” He began with calf stretches. Inko did the standard version with Izuku deepened the stretch considerably.

“Is it really that strange?”

“Well, at Aldera his teacher only did a home visit once, when he and Bakugo started doing the bare minimum to pass. That’s when I learned about the chair incident and the teacher only brought it up to bully the boys into cooperating.” Inko switched legs and they all followed suit.

“Chair incident?” Nezu asked.

“He threw a chair at his teacher,” Aizawa supplied.

“It wasn’t at him,” Izuku said, starting a quadriceps stretch as they were already against the wall. “It was at his desk.”

“It’s not in his disciplinary file.”

“I wasn’t disciplined for it,” Izuku said cheekily.

“It was after the coma, his first or second day back, so they let it slide,” Inko informed them.

Izuku snorted. “They let it slide because I called him out on letting the whole class bully and berate me for two years. They thought the fall was a jump. If I was gonna jump, I’d make them clean it up.”

“Izuku!”

“Er, sorry mom. I would never. Really. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“But you’ve thought about it,” Nezu said quietly.

“I have a quirk now,” Izuku replied. “Those statistics don’t apply to me anymore.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Inko pulled him into a hug.

“I’m fine.”

“Your definition of fine leaves a lot to be desired,” Aizawa said. “I’m going to wait outside.”

“No, I think you’ll stay,” Nezu said. “Model good mental health.”

“That’s not –”

“Take an anxiety pill if you need one, Shota.”

“Fine.” He turned to Inko. “Can I get a glass of water?”

“Yes. Glasses are above the sink.”

“Thanks.”

Chapter 56: Ups or Downs

Aizawa was listlessly adjusting his lesson plan in the teachers’ lounge. He could easily slot Shinso in with whichever one of his students was left unpaired, but that still left Midoriya. The kid was too self-reliant to be healthy. Aizawa snorted at the thought. Midoriya took after All Might in that regard but also reminded Aizawa of his younger self. He wanted to protect his – Yamada’s – student. All Might’s successor.

Kan was only willing to take him if he also got Yaoyorozu, but he couldn’t trade away the class rep. She’d been invaluable in comforting the rest of the class after Iida’s death. She was the emotional core of this class, whether they realized it or not. He couldn’t jeopardize seventeen students for the sake of one. No matter how much his fighting style reminded him of Shirakumo.

With a sigh and a stretch, he stood, and shuffled over to the coffee pot. He sighed again, finding it empty. “At least shut it off when you take the last of it,” he murmured.

Yagi kept his eyes on his workstation. “Did you say something, Aizawa?”

His shoulders tensed. “No.” he shuffled back to his desk. “But if you’re talking to me, I might as well let you know: Nezu dragged me to Midoriya’s mother to make sure she understood what happened. We ended up taking them both to breakfast.”

“I thought I had made myself clear,” Yagi replied coldly.

“Completely,” Aizawa replied. He lay his head down on his desk. “It wasn’t my decision.”

“It was mine,” the mouse-dog-bear in question squeaked from the door. “And I hope Yuuei’s policies are clear, to both of you. If you have any questions regarding them, or anything else, please consult me.”

“Yes sir,” Aizawa replied automatically.

Yagi hesitated before asking, “Was it necessary to take him along? Izuku could be, by all rights and reason should be, traumatized.”

“Yes, it was necessary. I would not have collected near enough data to come to a decision otherwise.”

“What decision?”

“Whether or not to terminate Shota’s employment, of course. If Midoriya-kun was traumatized and therefore could not be in Shota’s class, I would not have had a choice. Thankfully, and also very worryingly, he seems to have absolutely no fear of Shota at all. He is worried about not getting into the hero course. He has clear abandonment issues, is in desperate need of quirk counseling, and is at least somewhat suicidal. The only thing he seemed afraid of was worrying his mother.”

“Suicidal?”

“He made a joke in reference to the cause of his coma. When I asked him if he’d thought about it he said that he had a quirk now, so those statistics don’t apply to him anymore.”

Yagi stood staring at Nezu for a moment, unable to process what he’d just been told. “But. But he seems so happy.”

“He masks well, yes. But he feels like he is a burden to others, engages in risky behaviors, displays extreme mood swings, and has had changes to his appetite and sleep schedule; I don’t believe he is engaging with drugs or alcohol. He’s not the type to give up control that easily.”

“You can’t determine that with one half-hour meeting,” Dokujima spoke up. His short pink hair was pinned back with a two-tone baby blue moon and star hair clip.

“For diagnostic purposes? No,” Nezu agreed. “However I would be interested to learn if I were in any way mistaken.”

Yagi sagged in his seat. “How can you be so calm?”

“To start with, I’m not as close to him as you are. Second, he’s not wrong about his change in circumstances. I do not believe that his suicidal thoughts and feelings are completely behind him, but between counseling, a budding support network, and yes, a quirk, he is on the path to recovery. Third, there is a fierce, almost animalistic, spark in him now. He has a will to live.”

 

Izuku jingled his keys as he approached the apartment door. “Mom? I brought some friends over to study. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh! I, um, I can pop out to pick up some snacks,” Inko called back.

“We brought our own, Midoriya-san,” Mei responded. “I’m Mei Hatsume.” She held her hand out as Inko rushed into the hall.

“This is Shinso and Yaoyorozu, and um, Shoto.”

“Hello. Oh! Shoto-kun,” Inko cooed. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Midoriya-san,” he replied, dipping his head.

“Sorry I didn’t ask ahead of time, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing,” Izuku said.

“It’s fine, baby. I’m just happy you’re bringing your friends over.”

“Yeah, um. Yaoyorozu was saying it would be nice to get in a study session where she’s studying more than tutoring. So, I suggested we get together, and this was the only day we could.”

“It’s not a problem,” Inko assured him. She gestured to the dining table. “Izuku-kun, will you grab the chair out of your room?”

“Yeah.” He trotted back into the hall.

“Will any of you be staying for dinner?”

Shinso chuckled. “I can stay as long as you want.”

Inko gave him a concerned look. 

“Ah, my family is from Saitama. So, I have a small apartment near Yuuei. It’s nothing sinister,” he said.

“Well, then, I insist you stay for dinner, and come over more often,” Inko said relieved. “I’m going to make hot pot.”

 

Izuku was surprised to see Tomura lying on the end of Kurogiri’s bed, playing a handheld video game. Toga was by the dresser, looking through the movie drawer. “Uh, hey?”

“Hey,” Tomura replied. “Put on something comfy. Kurogiri’s making donuts and ice cream and we’re going to cuddle and watch movies.”

“Okay.” Izuku smiled. He grabbed a tee shirt and sleep pants and went to change in the bathroom. When he got back, with hair black and eyes amber, everything was set up. “What are we watching?”

“Attack of the Man-Ape,” Tomura said.

“At Sunset, They Bite,” Toga added.

“Don’t Scream Four: Grave of the Cat Witch,” Kurogiri said, although he sounded a little embarrassed. “And you need to pick one.”

“Oh, okay.” Izuku looked through the odd mix of low-budget horror, musicals, and historical romances. “Um, Oh! Curse of the Void-Beast.” He added it to the five-disc changer in the DVD player. “What about the last one?”

“We should all agree on one.”

“Blood Feast from the Deep?” Toga suggested.

“No, way. That’s just bad gore effects. What about Nightmare Circus Three?”

“Clowns?” Toga asked.

“Yeah, so?”

“Ick.”

“Ick seconded,” Izuku said. “Heart of the Aztec?”

“Despite the implications, it is a romance.”

“Radioactive Angel?”

“Eh,” Tomura wobbled his hand in a so-so gesture, “if no one else objects, it’s okay.”

“It does get a bit, ah, provocative,” Kurogiri pointed out. “But the female lead’s voice is a treat.”

Izuku put it in the last slot and snuggled into Kurogiri’s lap. “This is nice.” His shadow cocooned them loosely, the end stretched down and wrapped around Tomura’s leg.

“Stray?”

“Subconscious cuddling. If you don’t like it I can stop.”

“Nah. It doesn’t bother me. It’s just new,” Tomura said as he reached down to pet it. “It’s not the first time your shadow’s been clingy.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It makes you a good bodyguard. And I only find it a little annoying.”

Attack of the Man-Ape turned out to be a black and white Sasquatch-themed Creature from the black lagoon rip-off. The titular Man-Ape was played by an actor with Hypertrichosis; which Izuku found to be both cheap and exploitative. It was unintentionally hilarious, and the run time was only seventy minutes.

Izuku indulged in a freshly baked double chocolate donut and a scoop of coffee ice cream. “I can taste this in my soul.”

 

Yagi woke up to the incessant beeping of his alarm. He dreaded what awful prank awaited him. He heaved himself off the floor, did a quick search of the apartment, and grabbed the morning paper. 

When he opened it up a card fluttered out. Sorry was printed neatly on the front. For a brief moment, he thought his prankster had a change of heart. Then he opened the card and glitter flew everywhere.

He sat there for a moment with a neutral expression. Then he picked up his phone and called the car rental to see if he could get the truck a day early.

 

“I’m not even sorry, this is barely late,” Yamada-sensei said as he breezed in. He set a glazed donut on Askua’s desk. “Happy Birthday.” He strode to his desk. “Okay. Just let me get roll real quick, while Ariyama goes over the announcements.”

 “Right, the class study session has been moved to the library, the beach is just too windy. Suggestions for alternate locations are welcome. Remember to take breaks and stay hydrated; we can and will get through this. I know we all want to impress Yamada-sensei, but several of us should be focusing on mathematics. Kouha-kun is more than happy to help. Ask Kubo-kun if you need help with history. Arioku-chan has notebooks and pencils if you need them.”

“And bottled water,” she added.

Yamada-sensei looked up at them with a wide grin. “I’m already impressed. You kids are doing fantastic. I’m proud of you all.”

 

Aizawa wasn’t there when Izuku and Shinso showed up for training on Friday, so the pair began stretching. They did extra-long warm-ups, but, being teenagers, eventually started sparring. Izuku agreed to work on strikes and not force Shinso into his ground game.

Towards the end of the first hour, Aizawa showed up with Inui. He barely glanced at Izuku as he tossed him a collapsible staff and turned to Shinso. “Let’s see how far you can send one end of the scarf.”

Inui watched to see how Izuku would respond without further prompting.

His mother had told him the terms she and Nezu had come to; no more unsupervised training, no use of the capture scarf, and only at Yuuei. He’d miss the cats but if it meant keeping Eraserhead around, he’d do it. He frowned at the idea of Aizawa being punished when it really was just him getting back at Stray; tit-for-tat, it should have been over. He’d have to think of some way to make it up to the hero.

He shrugged and started going through forms with the staff; getting used to its weight and balance. It was light, durable carbon fiber, six feet long, and weighed only a pound.

“Alright, Midoriya,” Inui said finally, “come at me.”

Izuku closed the distance by using the staff to vault into a dropkick. His speed surprised Inui, who ended up having to tank the hit. With an excited growl, he began swiping at Izuku.

Ducking under the powerful claws and dancing back to avoid the torrent of strikes, Izuku assessed his opponent. Then, he began countering the flurry of attacks with an array of swipes and jabs with the staff. Izuku calmly gave ground and dodged vicious swipes with minimal effort. He poked and prodded Inui’s defenses.

After delivering a thrust to get distance, Izuku swept Inui’s feet. The pro hopped easily over the staff; putting him in no position to dodge the follow-up reverse heel kick.

Aizawa caught the move out of the corner of his eye. The distraction was enough for Shinso to get the upper hand on him. Aizawa hit the mat with a thud.

“I got you!” the normally taciturn boy said with pride.

“You did,” Aizawa agreed. “Now, do it again.”

 

Izuku jogged to catch up with Yagi as he headed to the gate. “Here, I know it's a few days late, but happy birthday!”

Yagi took the white bag with a huge grin. “You shouldn’t have. Thank you so much.” He removed the tissue paper; it was mostly green with a few pieces of yellow and one that was red with white polka dots. In the bag was a small chibi plush of Sir Nighteye with an oversized seal clutched in its hands. “It’s adorable!”

“It’s part of a line that has magnets in the hands, so he can hold a pen or hold hands with other plushes.”

“I love it. It’s the highlight of my week.”

“You didn’t do anything for your birthday?”

“Well, I went out with the other teachers on Saturday.”

“They do that every Saturday.”

“Naomasa-kun took me out to dinner. It was… nice to see him outside of work.” He smiled at Izuku. “But enough about me, how are you holding up?”

“I told you I’m fine.”

“And that’s the biggest lie you ever tell.”

Izuku snorted. “Look, I’ve been bullied for as long as I can remember. For the first time in my life, I have friends, I have people I can depend on other than mom. The worst thing that happened was I thought Aizawa-sensei didn’t want to be one of them. He even apologized and made sure I was okay afterward. That’s the first time anybody but mom has… has…” he scrubbed his sleeve over his eyes. “Fuck. Sorry, this was supposed to be a belated birthday treat, not a free ticket to my tragic backstory. Let me buy you a coffee, okay?”

“Sure, Midoriya, my boy.” He rested his arm across Izuku’s shoulders and pulled him in for a side hug.

 

“We should go out!” Toga whined. “We stayed in last night.”

Izuku frowned. “Um, you two go ahead, I’ll stay here with Tomura.”

“Seriously, Stray?” Tomura asked. “Go frolic with your boyfriend.”

“I,” he faltered. 

“It’s alright, Stray-kun. I understand that you are still hesitant. It was not that long ago,” Kurogiri said. “Perhaps a compromise? We could go to Daichi-san’s bar. Watch a fight or two.”

Izuku mulled the offer over. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Kurogiri opened a warp gate for the three of them.

Daichi’s little hole in the wall seemed warmer and more inviting than it had before. The usual red paper lanterns illuminated the bar. The usual four men were playing mahjong at the only table. The reinforced door to the back was manned by Shimizu tonight.

“Kurogiri-sama! Good to see you!”

“And you as well, Daichi-san,” Kurogiri replied.

“Ah, Guppy-kun! Looking for more lessons?”

“Um, oh, not tonight, I don’t think.”

Toga grinned and hung on his arm. “We’ll see~.”

“Did you want to reserve a place in tonight’s bracket?” Daichi asked.

Kurogiri looked to Izuku who gave a subtle shake of his head. “No, not tonight. If there’s room for spectating I might do a bit of gambling, though.”

Daichi frowned. “It’s a bit crowded…”

“Perhaps a round of drinks and –”

“Is Kimura-san here?” Izuku asked bluntly.

Daichi hesitated, then nodded.

“Would you prefer if we leave?” 

“That’s not necessary,” the plump man said with a nervous chuckle.

“But you’d prefer it,” Toga said grinning.

His eyes flicked to Kurogiri.

“We don’t want to cause trouble,” Izuku said. He could gage the weight of the man that just stepped onto his shadow. “I am craving your lotus root chips now that I can smell them, though. Do you do to-go orders?”

“Kid,” the man behind him said warningly.

Izuku turned. “No seriously, I am not looking for a fight tonight and we will leave if asked, but the food here is great. I legitimately want to know if it’d better if we left – we can come back some other time – and if you can do to-go, I want some.”

The likely yakuza-affiliated bouncer looked him up and down; taking his measurer. “Think you can keep that girl in line?”

“If she doesn’t behave, I’ll send her home,” Izuku confirmed with a nod.

“No fun.”

Izuku looked at her with a dull expression. “All the fun behind closed doors.”

Shimizu laughed and covered his mouth. “Damn Guppy-kun!”

“I’ll start those chips,” Daichi said with a genuine smile. He shook his head. “Anything else?”

“A peach soju, a melon soda, a bottle of sake, fried eel, and a bowl of ramen,” Kurogiri ordered. He herded the others to the bar, making sure Toga was between them.

 

Yagi woke up. For a moment, he didn’t remember where he was. The alarm clock next to the bed buzzed, slowly getting louder. He fumbled with the off switch. At least he didn’t have to worry about the constant break-ins anymore. He got up, stretched, and headed to the bathroom. 

As he adjusted the temperature, he sighed contentedly. It had been the best night’s sleep he’d had in months. Free of worry, he contemplated his other problems. Mirai was texting him at least once a week, now. Tsukauchi kept him updated on the League of Villains. Still, he felt oddly lonely. 

Yagi shook himself and stepped under the hot spray. The thought of losing Izuku haunted him like a specter. He had more people in his life than ever, but it was Izuku that made him want to live. He wanted to return the favor. And not just by giving the boy One for All. He wanted to offer the boy the support his own life had been lacking. On the one hand, he knew that that would mean spending more time with him. On the other, he was afraid of how much more it would hurt when he was gone.

He didn’t have the energy to eat, even though he knew he should. He promised himself he’d grab something on the way to work. And maybe a bento that he could share with Izuku. He’d eat the pork cutlets in the one from the convenience store at the bottom of the hill. But that would mean pulling him away from his friends during lunch.

Better not. He grabbed two of the rice balls Lunch Rush had sent home with him. He could eat one on the way, the other at lunch, and then tell the man honestly what he thought of them. Honestly? He shook his head. They were objectively good. The rice was milky and smooth, they were filled with Parmigiano Reggiano, garlic, parsley, and fish flakes, and then deep-fried a delicious golden brown. It was an Italian fusion. They were objectively perfect and fit well into his diet, as long as he only ate one at a time.

Still, he felt bad because he would be lying about how much he liked them. While they should have, neither the deep-fried crunch nor the gooey melty cheese did anything for him. They tasted fine he just… wasn’t hungry.

 

Izuku had finished his homework quickly. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to a lesson on self-care or his mother being involved. The nervous energy had to go somewhere. He stretched and began lifting weights while they waited for Yamada-sensei.

Yamada was running late and his apology to Inko made Izuku chuckle. “Sorry, I was dealing with some last-minute stuff.” He sipped his coffee. “Anyway, Sh-Aizawa said that since we’re just doing self-care stuff this week, I could handle that here. Save you the trip to the campus.”

“Oh, well, I guess that’s considerate of him,” Inko said, handing him her self-care journal.

“Anyway, on to the lesson! So we’re gonna start with the basics: nurturing your social support system, honoring your emotional needs, managing stress, loving yourself, coming up with a self-care plan, and getting counseling. The biggest part of that will be mapping out your daily routines.”

Izuku picked up the worksheet Yamada had brought. “List your favorite people. List activities that nurture your mind, that nurture your body, and your spirit.” Izuku cocked his head. “So like, my moral bonuses?”

Yamada laughed. “Ah. Nice, kiddo. Kinda. More like your soul, or religious practices.”

“Oh.” He dutifully filled the sheet out, secretly wishing for a glittery gel pen. When he went to grab the next sheet, Yamada intercepted him.

“Uh-uh, little listener, we’re going to talk about your answers first. Then we’ll fill out the daily routine.” He grinned, “These are group activities.”

 

Ryo watched as Kayama cracked her scourge dramatically and pulled Yagi’s chair out. She planted her foot on his seat; her pointed high heel dangerously close to his crotch. She tipped his chin up with the whip.  It would have been hot if she wasn’t blatantly bullying the poor guy. “You are being unfair to Sho.”

“I’m not discussing this with you.”

“What about with me?” Yamada asked from beside her.

“No,” Ryo snapped. He glanced at the three of them. “I’ll handle this.” He stood up from his computer. “Yagi, come with me.” As he walked passed Kayama and Yamada, he said, “I expect a full detailing of what training, no, of all your interactions with Midoriya; from you, Aizawa, and Yagi. Got it?”

“Y-yeah, man, no problem.”

“Kayama? You obviously don’t know the extent of what happened. I know you’re protective of these two but Aizawa fucked up. Yagi is not overreacting. He’s processing his anger and secondhand trauma. Let him. Got it?

She nodded mutely.

Ryo turned back to the two men. “Midoriya is casting a wide net for positive male role models; I suggest you three work this out in a way that demonstrates healthy relationships and coping strategies; because he will be watching and he will pick up your bad habits.” Ryo stalked out, not even gesturing for Yagi to follow him.

“I feel like an ass,” Yagi said when he caught up. “Izuku insists he is fine, that it wasn’t a big deal, but I just can’t believe that. Not after what Aizawa described. But I still think I may have acted rashly.”

“Hmm. I do have a PhD in psychology,” Ryo said with a grin that sent shivers down Yagi’s spine. He led the way to his office. “While I recommend you find a therapist that’s not obligated to put the students’ needs first, I am willing to lend an ear while you search.”

“Who else could I trust this secret with? It’s too big.”

“Have a seat.”

Yagi folded himself into one of the chairs opposite his desk. At his height, it wasn’t the most comfortable option available. Self-worth issues?

“I can recommend someone, but why don’t you tell me what you can first? You referred to Midoriya as your successor. Care to explain?”

“Ah, well. My quirk can be transferred,” he replied meekly. “Has been transferred.”

“To Midoriya.”

“Yes.”

“Explain.” Ryo resisted the urge to massage the bridge of his nose. Nezu had to know already. Scouting a student was likely the whole reason All Might came to Yuuei.

“My quirk is called One for All. It can be passed from person to person, gaining strength as it goes. It enhances both the user’s physical strength and quirk.”

“That’s a lot to accept. I’ve never heard of a quirk working like that.”

Yagi nodded. “It’s been passed down for nine generations.”

“Must be a lot for Midoriya to deal with.”

“Yeah,” Yagi said sheepishly. “Um. there’s a … how did Izuku put it? The history of this quirk was pieced together from a multigenerational game of telephone. An immortal demigod wants him dead and information about him is laughable at best.”

“Who wants him dead?”

“Shit. The brother of the original wielder of One for All. All for One, a man who can steal quirks. He likely acquired a quirk that stops or slows aging. I thought I had defeated him,” he pressed his hand to his side, “but after seeing Nomu… he’s still out there. He’ll come after Izuku. Because I failed.”

“I’m sure you did your best, and we’ll make sure Midoriya is well-trained.”

“I just hope it will be enough. I know I told Aizawa not to go near him, but he is a good teacher. Izuku could learn a lot from him. I feel like I have to choose between Izuku feeling safe and being safe. All the while he’s insisting that it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not uncommon for abuse victims to lack a sense of scale. They’ve been through worse and were expected to smile and be grateful. So how bad can this be?”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“It wasn’t meant to be. Midoriya needs help and support. We can only do what we think is best. Aizawa is a good teacher, but is he the teacher that Midoriya needs?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ultimately the decision is up to Midoriya and his mother. That’s something you’ll have to come to terms with.”

Yagi nodded, a completive look etched across his gaunt features.

“When was the last time you ate?”

He looked sheepish for a moment and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I had breakfast.’

“Uh-huh. Let’s order something.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re ignoring an important aspect of your health. You need to work on that. Set timers if you need reminded. But you have to eat. If you’re going to be part of Midoriya’s support network, you have to stay healthy, out of the hospital, alive.”

“I… I’ll work on it.”

Chapter 57: Going Forward

The four-hour morning show used the same set as the station’s news broadcasts but with a different digital background. Live ‘till Afternoon was a glorified talk show, but they pretended to be about important issues and hot-button topics. An always smiling, professional-looking middle-aged host ready to ask the ‘tough’ questions while keeping it clean enough for the censors kept even the most elusive of guests coming back for a little boost in the ratings.

“Welcome back to our live show,” the nondescript host said cheerfully. His trademark smirk never left his face. “For our next topic: is it really necessary for heroes to dress sexily? Let’s ask our very special studio guests what they think.”

Yu Takeyama waved to the cameras as she was introduced. Kayama appreciated the dichotomy she brought to this interview; new versus old, naive versus experienced, vanilla versus kinky, the girl next door versus the woman mommy warned you about. Even visually, they were light versus dark, full coverage versus skimpy – although both were skin tight – and clean cut versus sultry. The pair sat down together at the anchors’ desk.

“Thank you so much for joining us! Please have a seat.” He turned toward them. “Let’s start with you, Midnight! When you first debuted, your revealing outfit caused quite a stir. In fact, it eventually led to the Regulations for Exposed Skin in Costumes Bill being taken before the legislature. You’re a hero whose sexiness has changed the very laws of the country.”

“Her costume’s still pretty racy,” Mt. Lady piped up.

Kayama ignored the young woman’s unprofessional slip-up. “Now I rely on ultra-thin fabrics. Because of the nature of people’s quirks clothing can restrict their abilities. Sexiness isn’t just an aesthetic; it’s sometimes needed so we can do our jobs well. Besides, what’s more attractive than a hero who can get the job done quickly?”

“I think you just like the attention,” Mt. Lady prodded.

“What’s with you, Lady?” Kayama turned to face her. “Are you trying to start a fight?”

“Of course not,” she replied more demurely. “I look up to you. I think you’re amazing,” her tone flattened, “for someone of your age.”

Despite the host trying to ‘calm’ them down, Kayama stood and slammed her hands on the desk. “You can act like the blushing Ingénue all you want, but you’re not that young yourself, you know.” Youth was fleeting; therein lay its beauty.

“All I’m saying is if the older pros try too hard then the rest of us have to go even further!” she shouted back.

“If you can’t measure up, maybe being a hero isn’t for you. Plus Ultra, Go beyond. Even the first-year students get that,” Kayama returned snidely. “I expect you to do better than me. I laid the groundwork. You think costumes are too sexy? Take a look in the mirror. You’re not hiding any of that perfect body in that clingy skintight body stocking.”

“Hey! I have to wear this it’s the only fabric that stretches with my quirk!”

“And I have to have bare skin to effectively use mine.”

“But look at you!”

“I’ve leaned into the sex appeal to make an unfortunate byproduct of utilizing my quirk a marketable feature of my hero persona. I could be objectified, or I could do the objectifying. It doesn’t feel good when the most popular image of you is an ass shot at a crime scene. Does it? My most popular image? A tie between a bomb villain passed out in my cleavage where I have a soft and tender expression, and a low-angle shot of my face with a sadistic gleam in my eyes, caught as I ground my heel into a man wrapped in my whip. I get to be who I decide to be, if that’s going too hard for you, you can always quit.”

Mt. Lady practically snarled at that. “You –” she slapped Kayama.

“That almost hurt,” she growled pushing the younger woman away.

“Get your hands off me!”

“You started it.”

“Ladies, ladies,” the host pleaded, a gleam in his usually dull eyes. “Calm down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kayama sneered. “We’re both pretty. This is exactly why I took my sexuality by the throat. Your opinion doesn’t matter, worm.”

“Ugh!” he took a reflexive step back and blushed.

Mt. Lady’s expression changed from anger and indignation to contemplative.

 

Sweat dripped off Izuku; his breath came in ragged gasps. He continued to throw the ten-pound weights, knives, and other weapons at the target that Kurogiri had set up for him in the bar. His speed had increased as he practiced. The variety of weights and balances was keeping him on his toes.

He was working on making throwing something he could do on an almost subconscious level. The hard part was bringing the weapons back to him with his shadow but Izuku hadn’t hit his shadow once in the last hour.

“Love?” Kurogiri asked softly. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” he said without stopping, “starved.”

“I made katsudon,” he said seductively.

Izuku stopped. “Just let me freshen up, my wily tempter.”

Kurogiri leaned down and kissed him. It was warm, wet, and tasted faintly of garlic; but Izuku loved it. Particles of his mist tickled his cheeks and invaded his lungs when he was released to gasp for air. “I like you a little sweaty, but if you feel uncomfortable, I’d be thrilled to help you.”

Izuku gave a little whine. “Tempting. So, so tempting. But, I am hungry. Maybe a massage after we eat?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he murmured in Izuku’s ear.

As Izuku groaned and pulled himself away, Tomura pulled a face and said, “Perverts.”

“My apologies, Tomura,” Kurogiri replied, watching Izuku scurry to the bathroom. “Are we bothering you?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Just checking in.”

“Stray? If you’re going downstairs, I got something for your mom’s birthday on the coffee table.”

“That’s not ominous,” Izuku said as he trotted up the stairs.

On the table was an obnoxiously cheerful gift bag that had ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ on it. In it were two gifts. The first a relatively plain white mug with a black inside and handle and a decal of a cute black bear hugging her little rainbow cub. ‘Mama Bear’ was written below it in a cute, clean font. It nearly brought Izuku to tears how thoughtful Tomura’s – Toki’s according to the attached tag – gift was. Toga’s gift was in a small jewelry box with ‘From Hiki’ scrawled on it. He flipped it open and was pleasantly surprised to find a simple, silver heart-shaped pendant on a delicate chain. He closed it with a smile and headed to the bathroom.

 

Izuku was surprised to see Inui-sensei again, but it was good to have a sparring partner. Inui didn’t use weapons, so it was a nice change of pace. He knew that sparring against the same opponent would lead to developing habits. 

Still, he was a little concerned by the fact that, once again, Aizawa said nothing to him. He couldn’t help wondering if Aizawa still suspected him, or if now that he didn’t he was done with him.

He shook himself, just in time to dodge a left hook from Inui. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Inui asked with a smirk.

Izuku responded by attempting an overhead strike. Inui grabbed the staff and lifted him off the ground.

“Well?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just overthinking.”

“That happens with anxiety. Tell me about it,” he instructed.

“It’s just… Aizawa usually gives me some instruction, but you know, you’re here, so he doesn’t need to.” He let go of the staff. “Now you have to deal with me.” He lunged forward tackling Inui. Once he had Inui on the ground, Izuku straddled his back and locked in a rear choke. Inui reached back and tried to pull Izuku’s arm free.

He growled and tried again to power out of the hold. When that didn’t work, he kipped up and slammed back first onto the mat.

Izuku felt a spike of adrenaline and tightened his hold.

Inui froze. “You okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Are you going to try that again? It’s not going to work, Shinso hits harder than that.”

“Are you seriously going to choke me out?”

“It’s a valid hold,” Izuku countered.

Inui sat up and reached behind him. He pulled Izuku off. “No.”

Izuku put one foot on the ground and side-kicked him.

Inui yelped.

“Oh god! Are you okay?” Izuku moved over and started examining his snout.

“I’m fine.” He lunged at Izuku, driving him to the ground. “The muzzle is designed to shunt force away from my mouth and nose.”

“Thank god.” Izuku gave a sigh of relief, pinned beneath Inui. “Then this won’t hurt too much.” He swung a wild right hook at the side of Inui’s head.

Inui rolled with the punch and to his feet. “Cheap shot.”

“So was yelping.”

“It worked.”

Izuku smirked. “You wanna play dirty? Keep in mind most of my training is street brawling.”

“Thought you were a technician.”

“I like it, yeah. But I was taught a mix of brawling, Jujitsu, and Krav Maga.”

“That’s a good base to build on,” he replied with a nod.

“I didn’t know ‘brawling’ was a fighting style,” Shinso called.

“It’s an aggressive style of boxing,” Aizawa answered. “Close the distance; punch fast and hard, trade blows. It’s a good first step, it gets a novice to stop running and to not be afraid of getting hit.”

“Krav Maga is, itself, a mix of Boxing, Wrestling, Judo, Aikido, and Karate, geared toward real-world situations and extreme efficiency. I’m kind of surprised Aizawa doesn’t teach it to his students.”

“I do,” he huffed. “But I also make sure that they each have unique styles so no one can tell; makes it harder to counter.”

Izuku knocked Inui to the ground again before he returned his attention to their sparing session. Aizawa gave a bark of laughter and began instructing Shinso on using the capture scarf to throw a villain.

 

Izuku led Hatsume and Shinso into the Switch Café & Bistro. They ordered the sandwich platter to go and ate in a nearby park.

“This was a good birthday,” Shinso said smiling.

Izuku and Hatsume both took that as their cue to pull out gifts. Izuku’s was a pair of black and purple cat-ear headphones, while Hatsume’s was a collection of cat-themed socks. Shinso pulled his shoes off and changed into the grey pair with paws on the balls of the feet. Then he put on the headphones and loaded up a playlist on his phone.

The pair looked at each other in apparent shock, covered their mouths almost in unison and both said, “So intimate.” They both blushed and looked away.

Shinso laughed. “You are both so weird. But if anybody is trying to flirt with me, Mei wins. Izuku is dating someone.”

“Uh, no. No flirting here,” Izuku said.

Hatsume cocked her head. “Not at the moment, but if you wanted to ask me to a festival sometime, I would say yes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied dully. “You two are great, you know that?”

“Yes.”

“Gee, thanks.”

 

“Your car is nice,” Inko said as Yamada parked in his assigned spot.

“Thanks,” he replied as he unbuckled. “She’s my baby. I’ve had her since high school.”

“Oh, that’s rare!”

“Yeah, it was registered as my dad’s until I was twenty-four, for the insurance. I couldn’t even drive it until halfway through my third year, but I did pass the driving test the first time.”

“Driving school is so expensive,” she lamented as they crossed the parking lot.

“My uncle runs a driving school,” he admitted as he led them to gym gamma. “He started giving me lessons as soon as I could reach the pedals and see out the windshield at the same time.” He laughed. “I got into Yuuei on the promise of that car, and used every ounce of my allowance on gas having my dad drive us around.” His long stride faltered as he reached the door. His smile slipped for a moment. Then he turned to Izuku and told him, “You get warmed up, kiddo, and I’ll be right with you.”

“Where’s Aizawa-sensei?”

Yamada blinked at him. “Uh, well, the police station, something came up with a case he’s working on.”

“Oh, okay,” Izuku said, clearly not buying the lie. He pulled his shirt off as he headed to the changing room.

“Is everything okay?” Inko asked Yamada, as she found a bench to sit on.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’re not a very good liar.”

He deflated a bit at that. “It is a work thing. I promise. And. Uh, yeah, Sho … hasn’t been in a good place lately. He blames himself for Iida-kun and thinks he didn’t do enough during the USJ incident. He almost died for his students. And now someone he’s looked up to since we were kids is mad at him because he isn’t handling his mental health well.” He stopped. “Fuck. Sorry. Sorry.” He signed as he apologized. “You’re the last person I should be unloading on like this, after what happened.”

“No,” Inko said, patting his arm reassuringly. “It gives me some perspective.”

 

Before their morning stretches, Izuku handed Inko the gift bag from the League. Kurogiri had added a bento from ‘Kuu’ complete with recipe cards. Inko did cry over the mama bear mug. They were both startled when she picked up the heart-shaped pendant and it slid open. One half was the handle and the other was a two-inch blade.

“Damn it, Hiki,” Izuku grumbled.

But Inko laughed and said, “Thank your friends for me, baby. These are all wonderful heartfelt gifts.” Then she had him help put the necklace on.

“Happy Birthday, mom,” Izuku said, holding up one more gift.

The box was wrapped in butcher paper with a soft pink ribbon and two fresh apricot-colored carnations. Inko was very careful unwrapping it. Inside was a small LED light tree with about ten heart-shaped frames for wallet-sized pictures. She cooed about the gift as she got water and a little vase for the flowers.

“It’s so thoughtful of all of you. You know I was a little worried about your gym friends, but, ah, this is just precious of them. So thoughtful.”

“I’m glad you like it. Kuu helped me with the wrapping,” Izuku admitted with a slight blush.

“It’s wonderful!” Inko started plating up the breakfast ‘Kuu’ sent them while Izuku looked through the options she had for the day’s activities. “I’m really impressed with how flexible you are.”

Izuku shrugged. “I guess. I mean thanks?” He looked up at her. “Uh, I know it’s not on the list but what about a day at the beach? It’s warm enough.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely! We can pack leftovers into a couple of bentos.”

“Yeah.”

“Baby,” she asked, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You just seem down today. Do you want to go and spend time with your friends?”

“No, mom. This is your day, and I enjoy it too. Besides, it’s a good habit to develop for when I’m older. I don’t wanna grow up, move out, and never see you because life gets in the way.”

“Okay. Are you sure nothing is bothering you? No sense in having a mom-day if you don’t confide in me.”

Izuku looked at her with a mix of fondness and annoyance. “Alright. I thought things were going to be okay after we talked with Principal Nezu, but Aizawa-sensei hasn’t talked to me since. Nezu put me at ease weirdly enough. It didn’t feel like I had to solve things, which was nice.” He made a vague and uncertain gesture with his hands. “Aizawa should have been there yesterday. And Yamada-sensei lied.”

Inko bit her lip. Nezu had treated both Izuku and Aizawa like they were naughty children. That Izuku responded so well to it told her that she had been far too lax in his upbringing. He was a good, well-behaved boy, but her lack of involvement appeared to be a major source of anxiety for her baby. “I’ll give them a call, sweetie, while you pack the beach bag. Don’t forget the sunscreen, okay?”

“I won’t.” He zipped into his room to change into trunks, then the bathroom for the sunscreen. Inko was plating the grilled fish when he got back to the kitchen to fix up the bentos and throw bottled waters in the bag.

“Is he still feeling unwell?” she asked into the phone. “I see. If Aizawa-san needs to take some time, that’s fine. We don’t want him to overwork himself. Let’s see, next week is finals. Izuku said he’d be transferred into the hero course if he does well on the practical, is that right? Then he’s up to date on all the lessons he would have been missing? Is there anything we should work on?”

There was a long pause and Izuku got more blatant about trying to hear the other end of the conversation the longer it drug on.

“Thank you,” she said finally. “You two have a lovely day.” She turned to Izuku. “Yamada-san said it’s nothing to worry about. It’s always stressful for everyone around test time, and they’re sure you have everything you need to pass.”

Izuku smiled at her. “Thanks, that makes me feel better.”

 

“I already took roll,” Ariyama said as Yamada sprinted in.

“Thanks,” he sighed. “Finals are hectic.” He placed a glazed donut on Hoshino’s desk. “Happy Birthday.” As he strode up to the front of class he instructed, “Open your books to page two thirty-seven, please translate the paragraph in the red box.”

 

Finals were closing in on them, but due to recent events, there were going to be changes to the practical. Aizawa was not looking forward to this meeting. He had restructured the matchups while his students were taking their history exams. Yagi still wasn’t talking to him and he had no idea what to do about Midoriya. Kan didn’t have any open seats in his class. He was starting to think he hadn’t just traumatized the kid; he’d ruined his career too.

He took little comfort in the moral support of Yamada and Kayama seated on either side of him. Yagi sat across from him, stone face. Nezu was next to him, looking pensive. Inui was between Ishiyama and Maijima wearing his own concerned expression.

“Let’s get right to it then,” Kan said, clearly picking up on the uncomfortable vibe in the room. “Awase and Tokage verse Thirteen. Both have strong personalities, but he can get flustered in tense situations, and she needs to stop and think sometimes.” He slid the pair’s files to Thirteen for her to review.

She nodded and flipped through the file. Next to her Yagi shifted, avoiding looking at Aizawa.

“Next, Kaibara and Tsuburaba verse me. Tsuburaba is competitive and not above mudslinging, and Kaibara can get belligerent and often just goes with his peers.” He didn’t expect any objections, so continued with only a brief pause. “Kamakiri and Tetsutetsu verses Cementoss. Quirk-wise they make a classic sword and shield team, but they’re both aggressive hot-heads.”

“Tetsutetsu has shown that he values teamwork,” Ishiyama pointed out. He seemed unbothered by the obvious tension in the room.

“The Cavalry Battle,” Kan agreed with a nod. “He did well there, but his team would have done far better if he had been a horse, not the rider. He let his ego get in the way.”

Ishiyama nodded and made a note on the file he was given.

“Kuroiro and Honenuki verses Power Loader. Despite having such seemingly different quirks, they use many of the same tactics, and therefore have many of the same issues,” Kan explained the next match-up.

“This should be interesting,” Maijima said, grinning. He started reading their files, ignoring how uncomfortable Aizawa seemed.

“Kendo and Shishida verse Nezu,” he said reaching over to hand the principal the files. He took them distractedly, his eyes shifting from Yagi to Aizawa. “They’re both great strategists and leaders, with very analytical minds. Either would make an excellent team leader.”

Nezu nodded, still only paying partial attention.

Kan moved on, knowing that a fraction of Nezu’s attention was more than enough to test first-year students. “Kodai and Rin versus Midnight. These two haven’t worked together much,” he said with a shrug.

“I take it they got paired as the last two remaining,” Kayama asked, discreetly giving Aizawa comforting pats.

Kan nodded. “Still it should be a challenge for them. Next is,” he paused and grimaced, “Komori and Bondo versus Eraserhead. With field control being their primary focus, these two need to learn more close-range combat.”

Aizawa nodded mutely and accepted the files without comment.

Kan moved on quickly. “Shiozaki and Monama verses Present Mic. She’s passive-aggressive and judgmental, and he’s got an ego bigger than Yuuei’s robot budget. They need to learn to genuinely work with a team.”

“That makes sense,” Yamada replied with a nod, “but where do I fit in?”

“Shiozaki’s quirk is powerful, but she mostly uses it to ambush, with work it has a lot of untapped long-range potential. Monama has never faced off against a sound-based quirk, and as his quirk requires touch to activate…”

“Ah. I’ve got range~,” Yamada realized. He seemed strangely upbeat for someone whose best friend was clearly down, but most of the staff ignored it; accustomed to him being a counterpoint to his husband.

“Shoda and Yanagi verses Snipe,” Kan continued. “Both of them are on the quieter/meeker side this will force at least one of them to step up, without steamrolling either of them.”

Matsushita hummed as he took the file. “These two have the potential for one heck of a shootout.”

“And finally, Tsunotori and Fukidashi verses Ectoplasm. I know it seems a tad cruel, but communication is going to be a big issue for these two, and they have to learn to adapt quickly.” He passed the files over. “Right, unless anyone has an objection, that’s class 1-B sorted.”

“I don’t believe there are,” Nezu replied. “So, did you sort out class 1-A?”

“Yeah.” Aizawa passed out the profiles of his students. He ran through the matchups quickly. “Todoroki and Bakugo verses All Might. I paired them together because of how poorly they get along. All Might is the only hero on staff with enough raw power to outmatch them enough to force them to work together.”

Yagi nodded silently.

“Shoji and Hagakure verses Snipe. He’s the best option to put their stealth capabilities to the test.”

Matsushita nodded as well, making notes in the margin.

“Jiro and Koda versus Present Mic. Both with sound-based quirks and neither have shown much in the way of leadership ability.”

Yamada nodded. “As much as I hate it, training ground Gamma would be the best place for Koda.”

Aizawa nodded his consent. “Next, Sero and Kaminari verses Midnight. These two need to rely on close-range combat due to their quirks; Midnight makes that difficult.”

She grinned lasciviously and licked her lips. “I hope they’re up for the challenge.”

“Uraraka and Aoyama verse Thirteen. Due to their quirks’ drawbacks, these two lack stamina.”

“Uraraka,” she murmured, clearly remembering the USJ incident.

“Ashido and Ojiro versus Power Loader. Power Loader can negate their mobility by manipulating the battlefield and setting traps.”

“Is Ashido really all that mobile to begin with?”

“She’s quite proficient at secreting a non-corrosive version of her acid from her feet to slide around on,” Aizawa responded dryly. “Tokoyami and Asui verses Ectoplasm. Two of my strongest students; while their close combat abilities have gotten better, there’s ample room to improve.”

He nodded. “They were both impressive at the sports festival, despite not making it to the finals.”

“Kirishima and Sato verses Cementoss. Simply put these two need to improve their versatility; both rely far too much on brute force.”

Ishiyama nodded. “Not to mention that both of their quirks are only useful for a limited time.”

“Finally, Yaoyorozu and Shinso verse myself. Yaoyorozu lacks the self-confidence to make quick decisions and improvise. She also relies too heavily on Creation.”

“And Shinso?” Nezu asked.

“This will be the first major exercise where he’ll have his support gear.”

“Good, now that …” Nezu paused when Yagi held up a hand to speak.

“What about Midoriya?” he asked softly.

Aizawa looked down for a moment before answering. “I was given very clear instructions regarding him.”

Yagi coughed into a handkerchief. “I’ve had a long talk with him a–”

“Where he no doubt downplayed the whole incident.” Several of their coworkers stared quizzically at Aizawa.

“Naturally,” Yagi admitted. “But he’s adamant about getting into the hero course.”

“Kan can–”

“Does not have an available seat, and hasn’t shown any interest in him.” He waited for another rebuttal, but Aizawa stayed silent. “I’ve placed a terrible burden on that child; I couldn’t forgive myself if I failed him again.” Yagi looked down as if steeling himself for some arduous task. “My quirk is more than size changing and increased strength.”

Nezu gasped and turned to stare up at him. It was clear to everyone that the principal was not shocked by that admission, but rather by what was to follow.

“One for All can be transferred to a new wielder, increasing in power each time. I transferred it to young Midoriya a little over a month ago.”

“Bullshit,” Aizawa snapped. “Then why isn’t he using it?”

 The answer to this, and Aizawa’s real question, ‘Why didn’t he use it against me?’ was the same. “He expects me to find him unworthy somehow, and take it back. Hopefully, he’ll be free of that notion by next year’s sports festival.” Yagi cleared his throat. In for a penny, in for a pound. “One for All’s original wielder had a brother with the ability to steal and transfer people’s quirks. I haven’t been able to find as much information on the holders of One for All, yet. But All for One is a very real threat. He killed my mentor, Nana Shimura, and I faced him myself,” he gripped his side, “with disastrous results.”

“So you picked a kid to replace you?” Yamada asked incredulously.

“So he would have time to learn how to wield it.”

“This is not the first time Yuuei has trained One for All’s successor. Normally, it is handed off during a crisis,” Nezu piped up. “It is only marginally more dangerous to pass this responsibility on to a student than the normal responsibilities of being a pro hero. It will be refreshing to have the whole staff on board.”

“You never did like the secrecy,” Yagi commented.

“True, though I understand the need.” Nezu turned to Aizawa. “Well, then. What were you planning for his final?”

“I was going to have him face off with Mitsuno-san, either alone or with the Hatsume girl. It doesn’t matter now, if he has, what did Yagi call it? One for All? Then he needs to face something with that in mind.”

“Ideas?” Nezu prompted the group.

“Well,” Yamada said slowly, “How strong is he?”

“Well, I haven’t tested his limits per se but he moves at roughly a third of my current top speed without much effort. I would assume that strength would be in the same range. So, about seventy-five hundred pounds of force.” Yagi paused, as if unsure of himself. “I don’t think I can forgive you as easily as Izuku. I’m close with him and I feel protective of him. He still doesn’t blame you, at all. And that just makes it worse. But you are his ticket into the hero course. So, we’ll do this your way. For now.”

Aizawa shrugged. “As long as we can move passed it for the students’ sake.”

Yagi muttered, “I’m not moving passed shit.” Aloud he said, “What do you suggest?”

“These finals are less about testing their quirks’ limits,” Kan said, “and more about their own. Either put him up against a technician, to test his known strength, or put him up against his weakness, whatever it is.”

Aizawa started to nod, then shook his head. “Other than him being a traumatized kid, I don’t know enough to even begin analyzing his weaknesses.”

“Then, who’s our technician?” Nezu asked, knowing the answer.

“Mitsuno-san?” Aizawa asked.

“Are you certain?”

“Without the option of using my capture weapon, yes.”

“I can message Midoriya-san for her permission. I think having two or three other staff members present would put her at ease.”

Yagi considered it for a moment. “What do you mean Midoriya-san’s permission?”

“It’s only natural that I discussed the incident with her; a course of action was agreed upon. One of the conditions was no use of the captured weapon on Midoriya-kun. If she agrees, Midoriya-kun will have his final against Aizawa. Otherwise, it will be with Mitsuno-san.”

Chapter 58: Class A Finals

Minoru was nervous. Kato was right, it was super hard to do all three specializations in the business course. He had already submitted his Midnight neck pillow for the merchandizing specialization and wouldn’t get the results back until next week. He had just turned in the promotional package and the student costume redesign was due by the end of the day.

His promotional package was for Mt. Lady. And included three vector art posters: her stepping on the viewer, the popular butt and side-boob shot from the purse snatching case she handled last year, and a minimalist one that was just the purple and orange parts of her costume on a cream background. He recommended that she market herself to young women, sixteen to thirty. This meant a lot of cute, but small and inexpensive merchandise. Phone charms instead of figures. He proposed a line of hair and skincare products, as well as natural beauty or girl-next-door make-up pallets. And as much as it pained him to stay away from over sexualizing herself; a demure but flirty look would sell best across demographics. Clean, but playful.

For the hero student costume redesign, he had gotten special permission to redesign his own costume. Wildfire had given him some excellent advice. He included a savage tear down of the original design, including how far it was from the wishes of the ‘client’. The bowl looked like a diaper, the oversized boots and gloves emphasized his small stature, and the body stocking was plain. The overall design didn’t make him look cool, it was intentionally silly; a bowl of grapes. The only good thing about it was the color scheme.

Wildfire’s redesign slimmed down the gloves and boots to normal proportions, changed the bowl out for harem pants, added a utility belt and slingshot, and subtly padded the abs, pecs, and shoulders giving them more definition. A solid design and just a month ago one he was thrilled by.

His redesign jumped off from there. He changed the harem pants to purple, relegating the white to an accent color. While the issue of highlighting his vital points was a concern, he still had to pad them, and piping on the seams in white was striking with the dark purple. Plus, it further defined his abs and pecs; he almost looked strong. Then he went with the tabi boot style that Midoriya and Shinso had – they looked so cool – along with buckles that imitated the wrapped look they both had on their wrists and ankles. Finally, he added a reversible hoodie and a change of the boots and gloves to purple to give him a stealth option – like a ninja.

He had been hoping to find a fabric that changed color so he wouldn’t need spares, but he could only reference them. There were thermochromic fabrics that could be programmed and changed with electrical input, but they needed constant input to maintain the second color.

His stomach was tied in knots as he waited to present his final to Ebana-sensei.

 

Izuku watched Shinso leave with Yamada-sensei; eating his birthday donut. The class didn’t buzz with whispers, but Izuku heard the question all the same: Why just Shinso? He also knew the answer. Aizawa-sensei had been lying when he said it wasn’t a test. He really wasn’t good enough. Tears stung his eyes and Izuku wiped them away.

He raised his hand while Maki-sensei explained, “On the books, this is a study hall – to meet regulations about the number of hours you kids spend in lessons – but since you’ve finished your exams you don’t have anything to study; so you can talk quietly or nap. Just unwind; we push you all so hard. Yes, Midoriya?”

“Can I go to Inui-sensei’s office?”

“Yes,” she replied with a nod. “I’ll let Aizawa know to find you there.”

Izuku didn’t hear her. The floor was off kilter beneath him. The halls seemed to stretch on endlessly, and the walls close in as he walked. He moved on autopilot and was honestly surprised when he arrived at the counselor’s office. He was glad he made it before he broke down crying. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes like tiny daggers and the sob that was trying to claw its way out of his chest burned. He couldn’t really figure out what made this time different. Was it that he’d had hope for the first time in a long time? Was it that he had actual friends here? Was it that this was the final nail in the coffin of his dream of being a hero?

He raised his hand to knock, but the door was opened before his knuckles made contact with the wood.

“Midoriya.”

Izuku threw himself bodily at Inui-sensei. His sobs were muffled by fur and muscle. Inui wrapped his arms around Izuku and pulled him to the couch.

“Midoriya, it’s okay. It’s okay. Can you listen and cry at the same time?”

Izuku shook his head.

“Okay. Cry it out then. I’m going to text Yagi-san, is that okay? Would it be okay if he was here?”

Izuku pulled his face away from Inui’s stomach. “S-sure. What’s one more failure? I- I told him I w-wasn’t good enough.”

Inui waited until Izuku buried his face again. He checked the time and cursed under his breath. The practical exams for 1-A had started. Yagi was likely already fighting Bakugo and Todoroki. He texted Maki letting her know not to expect Midoriya back in class.

It was going to be a long hour.

He let the boy cry himself into sniffles while rubbing soothing circles on his back. “You are worthy. Yagi thinks so, right?”

“It’s not real. He doesn’t know me.”

“Honestly, he’s been training you for nearly a year, right? He knows you better than anyone.”

“No,” Izuku said firmly.

“You don’t want to be reassured? Fine. Sir Nighteye and twenty-six other pros saw your performance and wanted to mentor you. That was all you; all skill. It’s a matter of fact.”

“I had so much help,” he muttered.

“You helped them just as much.”

Izuku clung to him in a little ball of disgruntled teen, but he’d stopped crying. He was thinking, and, hopefully, reasoning. “Still,” he said at length, “I’m never getting into the hero course now.” After a pause, he added, “I think Fukami would accept the seat. She was really proud of how well she did. Asuka might turn it down. He likes heroing well enough, but his parents expect him to go into business school after this.”

There was a soft knock on the door. Inui called out, “Come in, please.”

Yagi stepped inside.

 

Meanwhile…

Bakugo and Todoroki entered Ground Beta. The empty streets stretched out in front of them. They had thirty minutes to either find the exit or slap a pair of cuffs on All Might.

“Stay out of my way,” Bakugo growled, shoving passed him.

“We need a plan.” Todoroki followed him, slightly behind and to the left.

“I don’t need you.”

“Idiot!” Todoroki snapped. “Teamwork is part of the test. We will be graded on it.”

“It’s pass/fail.”

“Yes, because Aizawa has never lied to us before.”

Bakugo paused. “What did you have in mind?”

“The easy thing to do would be to go for the exit. All Might wouldn’t expect us to be stealthy. But even if we go that route we need a backup plan if he spots us.”

“I’ll blast him.”

“Sacrificing yourself as a distraction? That might work, Nezu did say only one of us has to escape the combat stage.” Todoroki tapped his finger against his lips. “But your regular blasts won’t really work on him. Oh!” He smacked his fist into his palm. “I know. I could use my fire to heat you up so your gauntlets will be full. A full-powered blast like that, combined with a massive ice wall should slow down even All Might.” His voice stayed even and level throughout the entire explanation.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Icy-hot!” Bakugo snapped. He kept his voice down and headed for a side street.

Todoroki took this as compliance and modulated his fire to make Bakugo sweat, but not so hot he would get heat exhaustion.

 

Sero and Kaminari looked out over the rocky terrain. Kaminari backed up until he bumped into his teammate. “Sero, I can’t.”

“Relax,” he replied smoothly. “My costume is pretty well insulated actually. It was just about the only upgrade I got after… You only have to worry about bumping my arms, man. We got this!” he gave Kaminari a reassuring thumbs-up.

“Right. We got this.”

“What’s that thing on your arm, anyway?”

“Oh yeah! This is way cool. It launches these disks that draw my electricity to them!”

“I’ve got a plan.” Sero grinned.

 

Shinso and Yaoyorozu scouted their immediate surroundings. The high-walled industrial wasteland of training ground gamma stretched out around them like a mechanized Lovecraftian nightmare.

“Plan?” Shinso asked.

Yaoyorozu bit her lip. “You’ve had more one-on-one training with him, what do you think?”

Shinso started weaving quietly through the alleyways. “Even though the weights are most effective against him, I doubt they’re any kind of genuine handicap.”

Yaoyorozu followed; glad for the insistence on near-flats from him, Midoriya, and Hatsume. “How can we beat him?”

“He’s going easy on us. It’s Aizawa easy; so it’ll be one of the hardest things we ever do, but it’ll be doable.”  Shinso paused, staring up at a water tower. “How big a thing can you create?”

 

Power Loader was veritably swimming through the earth as Ashido and Ojiro watched. The large construction site was mostly a mud pit to begin with.

Ashido pouted. “It’s not going to be easy to get to the exit.”

“No,” Ojiro agreed. “But at least we know roughly where he is. Have you ever seen Tremors?”

She nodded. “He wouldn’t be able to see when he’s underground.”

“Not that we can see him either, but it’s something.”

“Too bad we can’t lure him headfirst into a boulder.”

“No,” he replied smiling, “but we could still lure him into a trap.”

 

Aoyama and Uraraka clung to the railing at the entrance to the USJ facility. Uraraka frantically racked her brain for any slim hope for victory against the powerful suction of Black Hole. Thirteen was standing calmly between the exit and the stairs.

“Ah, I guess you could say this quirk really sucks, doesn’t it?” Aoyama quipped.

“Are you serious right now?” Uraraka snapped. “We’re in big trouble here!”

“My costume’s not just chic,” he replied, “it channels blasts from my belly button.” He bent his knees to aim the lenses there at Thirteen. “Which means: you’ve got nothing to worry about, Mademoiselle.” He started a long burst of his shimmering laser, coming out of both knees.

“I’ll suck up your laser too,” Thirteen said coolly, “and break it down to a molecular level.”

Aoyama’s expression turned serious. “This is no joke.”

“What is your problem!” Uraraka shouted.

“I have no flaws,” he shot back flippantly. “Hey?”

“Not right now, I’m thinking!” she snapped at him.

Aoyama craned over next to Uraraka’s ear. “Pardon, belle.” He kissed her cheek. “So, sweet.”

Uraraka blushed bright red across her cheeks. Without thinking she moved to cover her face, releasing the rail. Aoyama let go a split second later, as Thirteen canceled Black Hole. He twisted in midair, sending a short blast at Thirteen. The shocked pro was knocked aside as he reached up and caught his teammate.

The landing was not as graceful as Aoyama imagined it. His feet slipped out from under him and he landed with a bang on his tailbone. While he grimaced from the pain jolting through him, Uraraka leaped up and dashed, at first toward the exit, then she veered to the already stirring Thirteen.

Using her training from Gunhead, she cuffed Thirteen and pinned her to the floor in one fluid motion.

Aoyama gave her a sunny smile and a thumbs-up.

 

It was easy enough to fashion a pair of stilts out of metal pipes lying around. The tricky part was using an air compressor and a small cart to make them move. Power Loader took the bait leaping out of the ground like a construction-themed jack-in-the-box.

“Got y–!” he cut off his victorious shout. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Power Loader landed with a thud and before he could burrow again was splashed with two five-gallon buckets of acid. It began eating away at his exoskeleton. He quickly released his harness and slid out. “Not bad, but I’m not out yet.”

Without his exoskeleton, he still leaped higher than they had expected. His feet had barely touched the ledge they were on when his arms wrapped around Ojiro.

Ashido blasted the pair with her acid. Ojiro slipped from Power Loader’s grip.

“You slimed me.”

“Get him!”

“Right!” Ojiro whipped around hitting the off-balance hero as hard as he could with his tail.

The instant Power Loader’s butt hit the dirt Ashido tackled him and slapped the cuffs around his wrist. Her enthusiasm caused them to tumble over the ledge. Ojiro attempted to grab them, but his tail was covered in slime.

“Sorry!” Ashido called when they hit the ground.

“Don’t be! You got him! We passed!”

 

Yaoyorozu was climbing up the water tower as quickly as she could with a collapsible hang glider strapped to her back. They had decided that she shouldn’t waste time once she got to the top. It was just under fifty pounds, and she couldn’t help but think Hatsume could make it lighter, easier to carry, and jet-propelled.

She ignored the capture weapon as it raced toward her from Aizawa’s hiding spot, trusting Shinso to do his part. A second capture weapon shot up from the base of the tower and tangled with the first.

Aizawa closed on him hoping to make short work of the hero course hopeful. Shinso danced backward, scarf whipping and rolling with his every twitch. “Sorry about this, teach, but I have to win.” He whipped the weapon towards Aizawa. Shinso kept talking as they fought. He just had to keep Aizawa busy. If he slipped up and responded at all…

But Aizawa stayed silent; a manic grin on his face. It taunted Shinso. He wanted to wipe the crazy, smug look off his face.

“Are you going to do to me what you did to Midoriya?” he asked. It was a gamble, but he knew something was up with Midoriya. He’d been down all week, then he hadn’t been collected for the final.

Aizawa froze. His capture weapon hovered in the air, one tendril dangerously close to where Yaoyorozu had just reached the top of the tower. “I –” he went slack, the capture weapon dropping around him.

Shinso was curious to know what was up, but passing was more important. He held Aizawa in place and watched Yaoyorozu leap from the water tower. The dull gray glider was a beautiful sight against the clear blue sky as it soared off.

Although she didn’t actually go through the gate, the buzzer went off as she sailed over the wall and their victory was announced. While they were physically more than ten blocks apart, the pair slumped in relief as one.

 

It was a stupid idea. There was no way it would work, but Midnight was between them and the exit. Kaminari used his launcher to fire as many of the disks into the area as he could. Sero created a giant hamster ball of tape. It would give him about three and a half minutes of air if it were properly sealed.

Kaminari rolled him down the hill and toward the gate. He ran along pushing, steering, and attempting to herd Midnight with his electricity. Once he got within her range he shouted, “Improvised Rail Gun, Indiscriminate Shock!”

The disks embedded in the tape ball were magnetically charged and pulled to the nearest active disk; which Kaminari promptly shut off. Then the ball zoomed to the next disk; and the next. Midnight recovered faster than he would have liked but it was enough.

“Stun Tackle!” Kaminari lunged at her to keep her from chasing Sero. He passed out from her quirk while colliding with her. His charge released on contact and caused her muscles to contract. They fell to the ground in a heap as Sero rammed into the gatepost. He took a few tries to roll through but refused to cut the tape until he heard the buzzer.

 

Bakugo swore as the pair looked out at the destruction All Might had caused. There was a half-block radius out from the gate that was cleared; nothing but rubble. “Plan B it is.”

Todoroki nodded. “We need to lure him away from the gate first.”

“Seal off as many of these alleys as you can, while I get him to chase me down the main road,” Bakugo ordered as he shoved all of his grenades into Todoroki’s hands.

“Okay.” As Todoroki ran, he began covering the ground in ice. It crept up the walls and arched out at the rooftops creating a maze of ice tunnels.

Bakugo backtracked a few blocks and launched himself out into the street. “All Might!” he screamed and charged forward.

All Might stomped towards him, each step causing a powerful shockwave. “If you think of this as an exam and not a real fight, you’ll be sorry. I’m a villain now, hero! Remember that.” His eyes seemed to glow with the intensity of his glare.

Bakugo could swear he heard a sweet guitar sting punctuating the statement. He needed to get his ears checked after this.

“You’d better come at me with everything you’ve got. I won’t pull my punches.” All Might took one more step and launched himself at Bakugo.

“How about a stun grenade?” Bakugo pulled the pin on his gauntlet just as All Might was about to make contact. The bright flash and concussive force were enough to blind him momentarily.

Bakugo was a little stunned himself, by the solid impact of Todoroki bodily tackling him into the side street. They scurried into a shop with busted windows and ducked down.

All Might laughed as he approached their hide. “Nice try Ground Zero, but you can’t beat me on your own.”

There was a sudden crash of ice and a loud explosion from the other side of the street.

All Might turned to investigate while tisking. “Infighting will get you nowhere.”

The boys stayed silent until a second explosion went off, echoing through the icy maze.

“Not bad, Icyhot.”

“Not bad, yourself, Blasty.”

They quickly picked their way to the edge of the destruction.

“That’s the last grenade.”

“We’ll have to be fast then.” Todoroki made a crude ice toboggan. “Think you can get us through the gate?”

“Just you watch.” Bakugo sat with his back to Todoroki and pulled the pin on his other gauntlet. As the pair was launched forward, Todoroki generated a relatively smooth ice path.

Just before they slid to victory, All Might crashed feet-first into their sled. They were sent sprawling in opposite directions.

Bakugo was on his feet first, but he was out of serious power moves, and his first blast had barely scorched All Might.

Todoroki lay still, just long enough for All Might to turn his full attention to Bakugo. Ice spread out from his body, unnoticed by the pair.

“That was clever, I have to admit, but it wasn’t nearly enough.” All Might stalked towards his prey.

“Plenty more where that came from,” Bakugo lied.

Todoroki sat up, suppressing a groan. He began generating heat, carefully. The air temperature and dew point had to be within two-point-five degrees Celsius. Dense fog began rising around them. Todoroki sent a spear of ice at All Might. Another at the gate. And another. And another.

All Might smashed them easily. He brought his hands together in a powerful clap, dissipating the fog, and shattering the weak spears. All Might turned to check on Bakugo only to find an angled pillar of ice behind him.

He reflexively reached up to block another blinding explosion, only to feel the cuffs click around his wrist. All Might let out a booming laugh as he caught his student in a fierce hug. “You did splendidly! Both of you.”

 

Minoru sat in his seat clutching the results of his finals. Well, not the full detailed scores; those would take time. However, he had been handed a letter that confirmed that he would be allowed to continue with all three specializations. He wanted to laugh, cry, and shout, but he could barely breathe. He had passed.

Kato patted his back. “Congratulations.”

“Th-thanks,” he managed shakily. Minoru had been a mediocre hero student, despite his intelligence, but he was excelling in the business course. He was making friends. The girls didn’t look at him with disgust.

He had made a comment about Midnight’s low-cut blazer in the last art lesson, and it had prompted, not outrage, but rather a twenty-minute discussion about image management and the delicate art of promoting sex appeal. They had actually appreciated his nuanced take on the different kinds of sex appeal; from the raw eroticism of Midnight to the clean girl-next-door vibes of Saguri-chan. They had even talked about how the same applied to male heroes, but it wasn’t as blatant; how being tall and broad was the same as having big boobs and a tiny waist.

It was so weird how much more girls liked him when he didn’t compliment them. It made no sense but it was working.

“Wanna celebrate after school?” Amiria-chan asked. She was always trying to get people together to go to karaoke.

“Sure,” he replied. “I mean if everyone else does.”

She turned to check the interest of their classmates.

“You and Kato are insane, man,” Zenki-kun butted in. “You deserve it.”

“I’ll ask Ariyama if she wants to come,” Kato said.

“You’re so lucky to have a girlfriend,” Minoru muttered.

“It is kismet,” he replied. “You can’t force it. Besides, I think Amiria-chan likes you.”

“Amiria-chan just likes karaoke. She’s too pretty to be into a guy like me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Was that a jab?”

“That was the industry motto. We are in the business of selling image, real and imagined. Don’t like your image? Fix it. You just redesigned your hero costume; apply the same techniques to your streetwear. A thing is worth what people will pay for it. I should know.” He tapped his temple.

“You’ve said it yourself, people don’t have quantifiable value.”

“Exactly. Amiria-chan is pretty. But she’s only out of your league if you believe that people have a set worth. If you find yourself wanting, fix yourself.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Hardest thing in the world, but it’s literally our job. And you have proven that you can do it.”

Minoru nodded. “I can.” He hopped down from his seat and walked over to Amiria-chan. “Um, hey.”

“What is it, Minoru-kun? Oh, please don’t tell me you changed your mind!”

He shook his head and flailed a bit, “No, not at all! It’s just, I was thinking if you can’t get enough people, we could, maybe, still go out, just the two of us…”

“Like a date?”

“Maybe, if you want?”

Suddenly the tall girl swept him into her arms a squealed. “Yes! Of course, I’ll go on a date with you, Minoru-kun!” his face was mashed into her cleavage. “Oh! But, can it be this weekend? Riki-kun and Yuka-chan said they’d come to karaoke.”

Unable to speak as he tried desperately to not get a nosebleed, he gave a shaky thumbs-up.

 

Yagi rushed in and scooped Izuku up. Inui stood and let him sit on the couch. 

“Midoriya, my boy.”

“Hey.”

“I wanted to tell you, but it wouldn’t have been fair to the rest of the hero course students.”

“I’m not a hero.”

“No, no, no. Don’t think that. It’s just. There were an odd number of students, and you have a bit of a special circumstance,” Yagi explained. “Aizawa is preparing for your exam right now.”

Izuku looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we have about half an hour to get you in fighting form.”

“You’re not gonna tell me I-I can’t-”

“Never again,” Yagi said firmly. “That was a terrible thing to say. I’m sorry. You could have become a hero, like Nighteye or Eraserhead.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Inui suggested. “And a glass of water.”

“Yeah.” Izuku nodded. Hope blossomed in his chest.

Chapter 59: Class B Finals

Bondo was the more obvious target between the two of them, so he was trying to keep Eraserhead’s attention while Kinoko headed towards the exit. He was running around making glue traps on the walls and roofs of the mock suburb. The terrain must have been selected with Eraserhead in mind as it neither hindered nor benefited either of them.

She had coated the surroundings with spores as they came up with their plan. Her hero costume let her blend in a little with the mushrooms she created. She slinked through the streets and alleyways, keeping close to the ground. her small stature was excellent for stealth.

Kinko was so focused on sneaking that she almost missed the light patter across the roof to her left. Eraserhead had either dealt with Bondo already or ignored him entirely. She froze, hoping to avoid detection but something caught his eye and he hopped down with a menacing chuckle. He was a full foot taller than she was.

He approached her, a wild grin on his scruffy face. While she knew she wasn’t in real danger, Kinoko panicked. Thanks to hours of training with Mitsuno-sensei that panic was not wasted energy.

She shouted, “Fire!” and punched him in the nose.

His eyes started to water. “Gah.” He stepped back, but she didn’t let up.

It wasn’t cute. It wasn’t demure. You will learn to gouge eyes, break noses, and pull hair. I will teach you to speak up, speak out, be heard, be seen, and most importantly how to be taken seriously. Kinoko was five foot nothing and she was going to be a hero, going to protect people. She was going to be taken seriously. She would walk shoulder to shoulder with giants; it just meant learning to bring them to their knees.

She pressed the attack seeding him with split gill spores as she did. It didn’t take long for his eyes to go wide with shock. He recovered from the initial blow and began to block but it was too late as the spores bloomed into full-grown mushrooms; blocking his airway. He coughed and doubled over.

“Bondo had the cuffs,” she grumbled as she began dragging him to the exit. “I have a fungicide that will clear that right up without poisoning you if you need it before I get us to the gate.”

She was sure from the shaking in his shoulders that he was laughing at her.

“If you’re okay with asphyxiating I could leave you here,” she said crossly.

He staggered and coughed.

Kinoko bit her lip but pulled out one of her spray guns. “Promise we pass.”

He straightened up and kicked the gun out of her hand. He caught it deftly and sprayed it directly into his throat. He tried to get enough air to cough again. To his horror, his airway was now fully blocked.

“That’s my portable humidifier,” she said smugly. It was not at all cute or demure of her.

Eraserhead dropped the gun.

“Most people can hold their breath for around ninety seconds before passing out; one hundred and eighty seconds on the outside; but as long as I make it back in less than three minutes, you should be fine.” She took off running for the gate.

She passed through just far enough to set it off before pivoting and sprinting back to where she left the teacher. He was surprisingly still conscious, trying to give himself the Heimlich.

“Hold still.” She shoved him to the ground and used her stiletto to make a hole in the split gill mushroom. Once she sheathed the knife, she pulled out a cough drop. “This contains the fungicide. Let it melt in your mouth and coat your throat. Do not chew it.”

He gave her a weak thumbs-up, before devolving into a coughing fit. Chunks of dying mushroom splattered onto the asphalt.

She’s passed. She hit a teacher. She’d used her last resort move. But she’d passed!

 

There wasn’t a lot in the room they were taking the exam in, but Awase had made an improvised chain to secure himself and Tokage to a metal railing on the far side of the boiler room. He chanted, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” as he swung around on the end of the chain welding things together and unscrewing them from their moorings’ to be sucked toward Thirteen. The hero had to pause in her assault to dodge.

Their plan was simple. After getting into a position that blocked Thirteen’s view, Tokage separated her head and neck from her body. It was difficult to fly with the suction, so she timed her movement with the distractions. Her head stayed hidden when she could hear Awase's chant. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, silence. She dashed to the next bit of cover before the suction had stopped to maximize the distance she could go. Thankfully, it didn’t take long, and they were right about just needing enough of her to communicate.

The gate blared and lit up like a game show. They had passed.

 

The large construction site was mostly a mud pit and Power Loader was veritably swimming through the earth. Honenuki had the cuffs as he was literally swimming through the earth while Kuroiro zipped through the shadows of stacked bricks, random I-beams, and parked heavy equipment.

Their plan was twofold, Honenuki was a distraction, yes, but they were also following the same basic path. If Power Loader attacked either of them, the other would be right there to try to defend. Neither of them was a powerhouse when it came to combat, but they weren’t slouches either. Kan-sensei had drilled them mercilessly on the basics of hand-to-hand.

Power Loader leaped out of the ground like a construction-themed jack-in-the-box with Honenuki clutched in his arms. Kuroiro froze under a stack of pallets. He was about fifty meters from the exit.

Honenuki struggled in Power Loader’s grip. “Run, Vanta! Run!”

With Power Loader scanning the path to the gate for movement, Kuroiro had few options. Moreover, he wasn’t about to abandon his teammate. As they had planned, he rattled the pallets, drawing Power Loader’s attention. When the pro hero reached the stack, Honenuki created a distraction by softening his helmet; Kuroiro jumped into the mech suit’s shadow as the helmet was hardened over Power Loader’s eyes.

The pro still had a death grip on Honenuki. Kuroiro slipped the cuffs out of his pocket before punching the hero in the jaw. Honenuki softened, then solidified the legs of the suit; effectively trapping Power Loader.

He gave an outraged shout and then started laughing. “Good job, boys!” He held up his wrist showing off the dangling cuff. They had won. Victory was theirs.

 

Present Mic stood by the gate again, a little freaked out by the bugs, but reminding himself that neither of these examinees could control them. Like last time he wasn’t sure where they were at, so he gave a loud “Yyeeaahh~!” every ten or so seconds just to mess with them.

His strategy was pretty basic, he just hung out by the gate screaming. The ambush specialist would have to come out of her comfort zone no matter what. And the Xerox hero only had the one trick up his sleeve. If they worked together they could easily overwhelm him with thorny vines. And he’d vastly prefer it to bugs.

He shuddered at the memory and belted out a little tune. “Don’t you say no, oh, oh, oh~. Just say YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! Say YEAH! YEAH! YEAH~!”

Finally, a mass of writhing vines shot out of the tree line.

“Yyyeeeaaahhh~!” He was psyched for an actual fight. Unfortunately, it was just the one target. Monama tried to look cool while his hair vines carried him toward Mic in a spider-like scurry, but it just made the pro hero shriek. “AAAAHHHH!”

Monama was blown back by the force. Mic glanced around sheepishly, waiting for the other student.

“I told you a reckless assault would not work.”

“WHAT?”

He snickered. Vlad King should have had his kids work together more. But that wasn’t his problem. “Yyeeaahh~!”

The girl shrieked as he sent a sound wave toward their location. The thirty-minute time limit was almost up and he hoped that the pair got desperate and tried something crazy. He loved the students’ crazy plans.

Monama burst out of the trees again. Here it comes! He squeed in delight for a second before blasting the boy back again. He wondered if Shiozaki would send her vines underground, or detach a section to make a writhing decoy. There were so many options.

“Yyeeaahh~!” he sent a blast at what he hoped was a distraction, and not some poor woodland creature, before coughing and whipping out his throat spray. “I’d really like to get this OVER WITH!” he tried flushing them out with an arc of sound.

Finally, finally, writhing vines burst from the ground at his feet. “Yyeeaahh~!” he blasted the earth around him. Monama made another mad dash. “Yyeeaahh~!”

He wasn’t very good at controlling the vines. Did Shiozaki not give him any tips?

A buzzer sounded, startling Mic. “Team Monama and Shiozaki have failed due to the time expiring.”

“Damn, just when it was getting good, too.” Mic shrugged and went out to where he figured Monama had landed the last time. “Don’t you say no, oh, oh, oh~. Just say yeah, yeah, yeah! Say yeah, yeah, yeah~!”

 

The pair jogged along the center of the long wide street of the mock city. Tetsutetsu turned to his teammate after spotting Cementoss in the distance. “We’ll totally get a higher score for capture instead of running away. Right?”

“Makes sense.”

A cement barrier shot up, making them jump back.

“Cementoss can’t move around super fast, so we should break through from the front! That high score is ours!”

Cementoss was calm as he faced the second pair of first years for the first-semester final exam. In truth, he was bored after the last ‘fight’. This pair, like the last had decided on a simple head on strategy. They were just smashing through his barriers almost as fast as he was creating them; which was at about a quarter of the speed he could make them.

Tetsutetsu growled and yelled, “This is it, Kamakiri! Let’s go!”

The boy would be marked down for forgetting to use his teammate’s codename in a combat scenario. Cementoss shook his head. “Another direct frontal assault? Really?”

“Man, this is never-ending! No matter how many walls we break he just makes more!”

Kamakiri nodded. “This isn’t going to work. I’m going to try something else, you keep him busy.”

“Don’t give me orders like you’re in charge; we’re a team!”

Kamakiri smirked at the hypocrisy and bounded off.

“Damn it!” Tetsutetsu shouted as the barriers began to overwhelm him and form a prison of impenetrable stone.

While Cementoss was busy with his teammate, Kamakiri make his way up one of the buildings and started running for the exit. Unfortunately, the buildings were mostly made of cement and began warping under his feet. soon enough he tripped and fell into a prison of his own.

“Tetsutetsu and Kamakiri have been knocked out. Exam over.”

 

Previously…

Inko sat on the couch with Nezu in his office sipping tea. “I’m not sure why you called me down here.”

“You’re not?” he questioned. He gave a soft hum. “You’re a very interesting human, Midoriya-sama.”

“As I said on the phone, as long as there is an alternative, I’m not lifting the embargo.”

“Very interesting indeed. I think you know exactly why I called you here.” He slid a tin of savory cookies toward her.

“If I can’t be bribed with money, what makes you think cookies will cut it?”

“Simply that the cookies are not a bribe, nor was the money. I’m happy to see that you are still satisfied with the agreement, actually.”

“Really?”

“Truly. The money is a small price to pay –”

“For silence?”

Nezu chuckled. “Oh, my, no. For your renewed faith in Yuuei. This school is my pride and joy; my life’s work. I love my staff like children and my students like grandchildren. I want what is best for all of them. Shota made a mistake and must face the consequences. Your perceived harshness is saving him from a spiral of guilt and self-destruction that would benefit no one.”

“You’re an interesting one yourself,” she replied.

“Izuku’s quirk has given him strength and agility that he is not using in his training. While he is not in the hero course officially there is nothing we can or will do about that. When he transfers in at the start of the next semester, we will have to start him on quirk training from the ground up. I will ignore any paltry quirk counseling he may have received in his last year of middle school.” He slid a thick binder over to her. “This is the updated NDA,  Liability Waiver, and Consent Form for the hero course. You’ll have until July twenty-fifth to sign and return it; any later and Midoriya-kun will miss out on the Summer Training Camp, and the special summer lessons.”

“I don’t think you drug me down here for paperwork you could have faxed to me,” she said as she began leafing through the document. “Costume Design waiver, Image Consulting agreement, medical waiver, permanent field trip permission forms… this is very thorough.”

“Thank you,” he replied brightly. “Do try a cookie; they’re cheddar and thyme.”

“Why did you call me down here?”

“Why do you insist on saying ‘down’? This is the twenty-first floor on the highest hill in Mustafa, overlooking the downtown area. I dare say that I called you ‘up’ here. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She smiled brightly at him. “Yes, yes, all very impressive. Your office is quite intimidating, and you have a fearsome reputation.” Her features fell into a flat expression. “I won’t back down. Not where Izuku is concerned.”

“I know and I appreciate that. Your pinky – er, child is in good hands.” He took a moment to savor one of the cookies himself. “Would you be amenable to accepting a temporary teaching position? It would mean being the only teacher without a pro hero license, but the third-year business course teacher is having a baby over the summer and my first choice for a substitute declined rather vehemently.”

“You’re offering me a job?”

“Of course!” he smiled brightly at her, careful to not show too many teeth. For creatures that showed their teeth as a friendly gesture, humans were oddly particular about how much and how many were displayed. “The lesson plan is already made up. You would just be taking roll in the morning and running three, hour-long classes in the afternoon.”

“I don’t have a teaching license,” she pointed out.

“We can work on that over the summer,” he assured her.

“Okay. I don’t know what your game is yet, but I’ll play for now.”

“Excellent.” His inscrutable black eyes shined with what may have been glee.

 

Izuku, Yagi, and Inui arrived at training ground beta. The streets were still torn up from All Might’s bout with Bakugo and Todoroki. A few lazy clouds drifted across the deep azure sky. A light breeze ruffled Izuku’s hair as he pulled his hood down due to the heat. He considered taking the hoodie off but didn’t want to feel vulnerable in just the skin-tight top.

Aizawa already looked done. The teacher with him, Mitsuno-sensei according to Yagi, was unreadable due to his face being half covered. He was wearing a white jumpsuit, and a purple visor and had bare feet. Izuku didn’t recognize him. Normally, Izuku’s mind would be whirling with the possibilities of what the man’s quirk was, what his hero name was but right now his head buzzed with worry and doubt.

“Let’s get this over with,” Aizawa said as the other teacher stretched his arms and popped his neck.

“All right, while the other students were paired up, you will be facing Mitsuno alone. The goal is to get these cuffs on him,” Yagi explained handing the capture cuffs to Izuku.

“Any time you’re ready,” the unfamiliar teacher said. He took up a fighting stance, still not looking at Izuku. It was unnerving.

Izuku did not charge in. He circled cautiously. He evaluated the tension in Mitsuno-sensei’s coiled muscles. He was loose and fluid; relaxed. He didn’t expect much of a fight. Izuku closed the distance. He opened with a salvo of jabs, testing Mitsuno’s defenses.

Mitsuno ducked and dodged, biding his time waiting for an opening. Suddenly, Izuku wrapped both arms around Mitsuno’s thighs and pushed his shoulder into the man’s gut. Mitsuno threw a punch to Izuku’s head as he was brought to the ground. Izuku pulled him into an arm bar and applied pressure. Izuku lived in his ground game. It was safe.

Here it didn’t matter what his quirk was. Izuku could bend and flex, twist and contort, pull and compress until his opponent yielded. He pushed aside the intrusive thought that he wished it was Aizawa; after all shouldn’t they be close after what they’d been through? Intimate even. Izuku had tried to convince himself. Tried to believe Kurogiri’s logic about them being even. Izuku had unnerved a big tough pro hero. Aizawa had terrorized what he thought was (Stray) an underwhelming general course student. Tit-for-tat. (Right?) But he couldn’t quite do it.

(And Aizawa was too scared of what he’d done to face him. How was that even?)

Shifting from a bridge to all fours, Mitsuno jerked his arm free; bringing Izuku’s full attention back to the fight. He moved to roll Izuku into a pin, but his legs were swept out from under him. Izuku used the momentum to flip Mitsuno over the top of him.

Following the motion, Izuku rolled on top of Mitsuno’s chest. He tried to throw Izuku off with another bridge, but he planted one hand above Mitsuno’s head.

Izuku snarled and punched Mitsuno in the mouth. He spat blood as he grabbed Izuku’s triceps and wrist. This time when he bridged Izuku couldn’t plant his hand. Mitsuno rolled them over.

He hit Izuku three times in rapid succession before Izuku arched his back and knocked his hands to the sides. He pulled Mitsuno into his chest with his legs. Capturing his wrist, Izuku shifted to the side, secured Mitsuno’s arm in a figure-four lock, and twisted to plant his face on the concrete.

Mitsuno rolled with it and hit Izuku’s thigh with a hard palm strike. He twisted his hips and shrugged his shoulders, dislodging the arm lock.

Izuku rolled away and kipped up.

“Quit screwing around and get the cuffs on him,” Aizawa snapped.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku said. His shoulders slumped.

All Aizawa could see was Izuku going slack, held fast in his capture weapon. It was cruel to make him relive that trauma; and to expect it day after day. “This is a joke. Mitsuno-san –”

“If, if you don’t want me in your class…” the boy sniffled and backed up.

“Of course I want you!” Aizawa shouted, striding toward him. “You’re what we should be looking for in future heroes. I. I’m the one that’s sorry, Midoriya. I-I let.” Tears stung his eyes. “I fucked up! Why aren’t you angry? How can you not hate me?”

“Why should I?” Izuku snapped back. “You didn’t push me that hard! I wussed out!”

“You withdrew your consent,” Mitsuno said flatly. His head cocked as if listening for something.

Yagi nodded at the sudden insight. “Kuu has been teaching you about boundaries. Given his recent experience, Aizawa knows how much it hurts when a person ignores your boundaries or doesn’t have your consent.”

Izuku huffed. “But I should be able to take it.”

“That is not how consent works,” Mitsuno-sensei replied, his voice calm and his tone even. He stared, unnervingly, straight ahead.

Aizawa floundered for words for a moment before saying, “It would be hypocritical of me to expect you to when I couldn’t. They weren’t even people I trusted.”

Izuku approached him, intent on offering the man comfort.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Aizawa asked softly.

“You can’t be a great hero if you hold back like this during training,” Yagi stated. “Use your quirk.”

“We have an agreement.”

“This is a private setting, and I can’t have you wasting an entire year of training,” Yagi replied sternly. “They know about One for All. It’s one of the reasons you’re testing alone.”

“But…”

“You can do this. I believe in you, young Midoriya,” Yagi said in a serious tone.

Aizawa sighed, “Really?”

“Does it have to be this guy? I don’t even know who he is,” Izuku grumbled. “I’d rather fight Aizawa.”

“I don’t make the rules kiddo,” Aizawa replied.

“Who’s going to tell her? I’m the one asking for it.” Izuku paused. “Also I’m pretty sure you do, in fact, make most of the rules.”

Aizawa chuckled. “Tough. Get the cuffs on your opponent and then we’ll talk.”

“It’s interesting that you’re not afraid of him,” Mitsuno said.

Izuku let out a frustrated noise, and then a dry, bark of a laugh. “I’m not saying he isn’t badass, but I haven’t been afraid of anyone since my six-story tumble into wonderland. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you wouldn’t mind a go at me,” Aizawa said grinning ferally.

“Not at all,” he replied. “Only, I have a bad habit of repressing my emotions, apparently. I bloodied Kacchan’s nose twice. I only really meant it once.”

“I think,” Inui spoke up, “that this might be a quasi-healthy way to work passed some of that.”

“Quasi-healthy?”

“Baby steps,” he replied deadpan. “If Izuku’s not afraid of Aizawa, then we should prove that in a safe and controlled environment; before he’s put in his class.”

Yagi gave a curt nod and turned to Aizawa. He pointed to his eyes, and then to Aizawa. “I’m here to make sure you don’t take it too far. Kick his ass, young Midoriya.”

Izuku shrugged and pulled up One for All, positive that Yagi would be able to tell if he didn’t. He was faster than Aizawa had ever seen him. He flowered the concrete beneath him every few steps as he veritably bounced around the wrecked street.

 However, he refused to approach the tangle of capture weapon swirling around Aizawa, who was gingerly herded him back and forth, clearly in control of the situation; like he was dangling string in front of a particularly nervous cat.

Mitsuno tilted his head back and forth as if he were trying to decipher what he was looking at, and Inui let out a soft whine as he failed to track the boy’s movements. Yagi puffed up into All Might and strode over to the pair purposefully.

Aizawa stood down the moment he noticed the approach. That caused Izuku to look over his shoulder. For a brief flash, he was back in the USJ looking up at All Might, seeing the man without his signature smile for the first time.

“What’s wro–”

He was cut off as All Might lifted him by the back of his hoodie. “Young Midoriya,” he said in a scolding tone.

Izuku curled into as much of a ball as he could in All Might’s grip. He looked every inch the naughty kitten, scruffed by its owner.

All Might continued, despite Izuku’s worried expression. “I need to know that you can control One for All well enough to fight.”

Izuku flicked his eyes down then back up at All Might. “Assume I can’t; take it back.”

He gave the boy a firm shake. “No, bad.” All Might held him closer, bringing them to eye level with each other. “If you’re afraid of him, if you don’t want to be in his class, I can make other arrangements for you.”

“It’s not that,” Izuku whispered back.

“It’s the only reason I can think of for you not performing at your best.”

Izuku shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut against a wave of tears. “He was testing me, and I failed.”

All Might pursed his lips together. “Then why are you throwing the retest? You know the answers this time.”

Izuku looked at him bewildered.

“You could have broken free with One for All.”

“But he didn’t know about it.”

“Tests aren’t about what your teachers know, they’re about what you know, what you are capable of.” All Might gently lowered his successor to the ground. “Now,” he said softly as he gently turned him around and pushed him toward Aizawa. In his usual booming voice, he added, “Kick his ass, young Midoriya.”

Izuku let the power of One for All wash over him. He closed the distance in the blink of an eye; the earth cratered in the few places where his feet touched the ground. The blow was so fast, that All Might was sure he was the only one to see it. It was a weak jab, with mediocre form and only a fraction of the power Izuku could have put behind it.

Aizawa flew backward, and bile was forced from his mouth. He sailed a fair distance before slamming into a wall, which flowered from the impact. Aizawa slumped to the ground.

Izuku and All Might were both by his side in a flash. All Might gently repositioned him while Izuku checked his pulse and breathing.

“I shouldn’t have hit his guts,” Izuku said. “What if I ruptured something?”

Aizawa chuckled and coughed. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Kiddo, that was –”

“Amazing?” Izuku asked dryly.

“Shitty form,” Aizawa corrected. “I know you can fight better than that.” He lifted his arm and gently cupped the back of Izuku’s head. “Fuck. No wonder you don’t hate me. I haven’t been working you near hard enough.”

Izuku laughed. “Aizawa-sensei, I’m sor–”

He was pulled into Aizawa’s chest. “Nope. You were doing what you thought was right. Just don’t keep things from your teachers anymore. Okay?”

“Okay,” he replied quietly. He secured the cuffs around Aizawa’s wrist.

Chapter 60: Well Wishes and Promises

At nine, after dinner with his mom, Izuku ran down to Dagobah Beach. Yagi was already waiting. Izuku activated One for All and leaped onto the beach. He hit the ground running, hoping Yagi would puff up into All Might to start their usual jog.

Instead, he opened his arms for a hug and called out, “You sure are in high spirits tonight!”

“I get to be in the hero course!” Izuku dropped One for All as he approached. “And Aizawa-sensei doesn’t hate me.”

“Of course, he doesn’t hate you.”

“No ‘of course’ about it.” He shook his head. “I’m used to people hating me for little or no reason. I’m glad he thinks I can be a hero.”

“You’re going to be the best.” Yagi closed his arms around the boy. “Aizawa is waiting for us, we should get going.”

“As much as I appreciate using Yuuei’s grounds, I’m going to miss training on the beach.”

“We can still come out here from time to time,” Yagi told him as they walked up the stairs.

“Oh, the train doesn’t run this late…”

“Do you think you can keep up without damaging anything, or should I carry you?” Yagi asked.

“You want to run through the city with One for All?”

“It’s faster,” he confessed.

Izuku grinned. “I think I can do it without much property damage.”

Yagi scooped him up as he transformed. “That’s more than zero, my boy. Hang on.” He leaped into the air.

Izuku wasn’t sure how he calculated his jump before taking off, but within a minute, they were outside of Yuuei’s main gate. Aizawa greeted them, and led them to P. E. grounds next to the main building.

After some stretching, the pair squared off to spar as Aizawa watched. Their speed was breathtaking. He could scarcely see the blows. Dirt and gravel whipped around them, stinging when it hit him. The force of their blows sent small shockwaves passed them as they dodged around each other.

He was able to see that Izuku was by far more aggressive than All Might. He took more hits and left himself open more frequently when striking; while All Might was pulling his punches. Another hail of dirt exploded and Izuku rolled to a stop after taking a particularly hard blow. He launched himself at All Might’s middle, driving the man to the ground.

It was easier to see what they were doing, and Izuku was much better at groundwork than All Might. The boy rolled up and locked his arm. All Might tried to jerk his arm free. He moved to roll Izuku into a pin, but the boy put his foot in the pro’s face. He stretched the man’s arm out straining the elbow. All Might lifted him off the sand and smashed him down on it.

In a surprising move, Izuku let go. He straddled All Might’s chest. He pulled back his fist and punched the grinning idiot in the mush. “Ow!”

“Enough.”

All Might spat blood. For once, it wasn’t because of his old injury. “You’re improving quickly, my boy.”

“The fuck he is,” Aizawa said. “He’s sloppier like this. Time to go back to fundamentals, kiddo. Start with footwork, keep your quirk up. Then we’ll talk about your form.”

              

“Sho,” Hizashi said snuggling into his partner’s side. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“We have class,” Shota grumbled groggily; it had been a long night.

“Can’t we call in sick? Just this once?”

“No. That’ll lead to more cases of ‘just this once’. Besides, your kids would miss you.” Shota stretched and sat up. “God, you’re beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed his husband. Once on the temple, then on the cheek, he trailed kisses down his neck and nipped his shoulder. His tongue laved over the long thin scar above Hizashi’s right pec. Both men groaned.

“That is not an effective strategy for getting me out of bed. Not that I don’t appreciate it.”

“As long as we’re not late…” Shota all but purred. He disappeared under the blanket, dappling Hizashi’s chest with kisses.

“Happy birthday to me,” Hizashi said with a pleased sigh.

Shota poked his head back up. “It’s your birthday?”

“Oh, Sho, don’t even pretend like you forgot. I –” his breath hitched as Shota returned to his ministrations, with more licks and nips than before. “I saw the chicken marinating.”

“I was going to make stir fry,” he lied as he dipped lower. His tongue laved over the tight muscles of Hizashi’s abs. “How do you keep so fit with all the junk you eat?” He blew a raspberry on the man’s belly button in a pique of jealousy. As Hizashi curled around him, shrieking and giggling, he turned it into a long sensuous lick. Hizashi’s laughter became moans as he relaxed back onto the four-poster bed.

Shota eased down to give attention to Hizashi’s poor neglected hips, laying a gentle kiss on the little burn scar. It had been weeks since he was in any fit state to lavish attention on his husband. He enjoyed how responsive Hizashi was, even after all this time. He bit lightly on the curve of his hip, right where his pants would rub no matter what he wore.

“Don’t you dare, Sho. We have classes!”

Shota gave an earthy chuckle in response and began sucking a hickey on the spot. “You’re going to be thinking about me all day.”

“I do that anyway,” he protested. His fists tangled in the sheets as Shota continued to suck and bite. “God, Sho, please!” the blanket slipped sideways, exposing Hizashi entirely. His pale skin was bathed in the soft morning light that managed to fight its way passed their heavy blackout curtains.

“Please what, ‘Zashi?”

“Fuck me.”

“Awe, that’s not on the menu. Maybe for dessert, if you’re good.” Shota adjusted his position and bent his head down to nuzzle the fine curly blond hairs at the base of his cock. Hizashi’s hips bucked as he kissed the underside, slowly making his way to the head. As he took the tip into his mouth, Hizashi released the sheets and gripped his hair. The firm tug and light pain made him moan. Hizashi gently encouraged him to go farther; weak almost subconscious thrusts of his hips rubbed the tip against Shota’s tongue and lips.

He proceeded maddeningly slowly, adding only a few millimeters to each bob of his head. He was almost halfway down when he pulled back with an obnoxious pop. “I’m sorry I teased you earlier,” he paused for Hizashi to whine about the lost contact, as frustrating as it was it was heaven compared to the rapidly cooling spit, “about your diet.” He licked from the base to the tip teasingly. “It makes you taste so good.”

After two or three shallow bobs, he took Hizashi to the root and gave a long deep moan. Hizashi repositioned his hands so that Shota could only come off halfway without pulling his own hair. This was one of the reasons Hizashi wished Shota was more into three ways: he loved to brag about his man. Shota could hold his breath for a whole five minutes, and he loved doing it with a cock down his throat. Then he’d come off just enough to breathe and do it again. But he could hardly brag about something no one was ever going to get to see, let alone experience.

Shota also loved torturing him by going so slow. He lifted his head up until just the tip was in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it before going back down at a snail’s pace. For him, the hair-pulling was just a bonus.

He got off on the brief, light pain of a steady grip on his hair. A big handful of hair was a necessity, for support. Too little and it was a sharp pain. Placement was something Hizashi had to worry about too. The best spots were the back and crown.

Finally, his husband has some mercy on him and picked up the pace. He would moan every time he felt the tension on his scalp. Shota pulled his hands lower until Hizashi was just thrusting up into his warm, wet throat while holding him in place. Pleasure built until he could only gasp out a warning, “Sho,” before he was racked by the first wave of his orgasm. Shota rode out his spasms swallowing gratuitously and moaning like a well-used whore.

When it was over, Hizashi let go of his hair and, panting too much to speak, motioned for Shota to lie on top of him. Sweat-slicked the pair caught their breath, Shota in genuine danger of falling back to sleep.

“That was amazing,” Hizashi said softly. “You sure we can’t skip? I could reciprocate.”

His voice a little horse and a tad bashful, “I’m going to change the sheets while you shower.”

“No!” he stared at his husband in disbelief.

“What? You hit me at just the right angle. Now hurry up, you’re going to be sticky and late.”

Hizashi huffed. Shota had cum on his foot. “The least you can do is help me clean it up.”

With an evil grin, he grabbed Hizashi by the ankle and brought his foot up to his lips. Before he could even do anything, Hizashi was squirming and laughing. Shota licked up and down the bottom of Hizashi’s foot. He changed angles and laved his tongue over the top, where most of the mess was. Then, despite warnings of being kicked and how Hizashi could not be held responsible, he slithered his tongue between each of his toes.

When his ankle was released, Hizashi scrambled to the bathroom, lest Shota decide to even him up and lick the other foot as well. He left his demon of a husband chuckling on the bed, hand dangerously close to the remnants of his own release.

He stretched and stood fluidly from the bed. He pulled the sheets and blanket off, and dropped them next to the bathroom door. The temptation on the other side was too much. Shota picked fresh linens that were a solid color; they looked blue to him so they were likely either blue or some shade of purple. A medium shade if he had to guess. Lighter shades tended to look grey, even when they were highly saturated. It made coordinating a pain.

After he’d finished making the bed, Shota wandered into the kitchen. He fixed a quick breakfast of fried eggs, toast, and avocado slices.

 

Hizashi’s non-apology died on his lips as he spotted the glazed donut on his desk. The class chirped ‘Happy Birthday’ at him before moving on to their English lesson. He was glad he hadn’t played hooky.

 

Looking at the recipe again, as if he hadn’t memorized it after five years of living together, Shota checked to ensure he had everything. The custard was in the piping bag, the cinnamon and sugar was in a shallow bowl, raspberry sauce was in a small pan cooling. He warmed the oil up as he prepped the dough. He made sure the cooling racks were ready before dropping the first future donut into the fryer.

He did these one at a time, when the third one went in the first was ready for filling, coating, and topping. Six donuts later and he was ready to move on to the main course.

Most of the work had been done yesterday. He’d cleaned and cut the chicken before throwing it in with garlic, ginger, sake, and a dash of soy sauce to marinade overnight. He poured flour and potato starch into a shallow dish and started coating the bite-sized pieces of chicken. They went into the oil in batches. The oil popped and stung his hands but he paid it no mind. It was nice to be doing something normal and productive again.

The gloom of the past couple of months was still present, but the scent of garlic and fry oil was keeping it at bay for now. In between batches, he made a green salad and prepped vegetables for tempura. He favored the ones that needed to be eaten soon, which included a zucchini and a whole bag of green beans. Hizashi was going to think he was being spoiled. But it was his birthday.

Everything was ready and on the table – a pair of LED candles provided some romantic lighting, and the cats were fed – when Hizashi walked through the door. Nemuri liked to take him out for a late lunch. “New earrings?”

A pair of small, but thick hoops graced his ears. “Aren’t they fantastic, Sho? Nem really outdid herself this year!” He practically flounced up to his husband. He turned and tilted his head so Shota could get a better look. The metal was a warm black and had a delicate bead-like detailing around the stones. The stones were small and cut identically, but there were two kinds, two solid rows on the face and two glass-like pale topaz rows on each side. “They’re iced emerald and black stone in black gold.”

“They’re gorgeous, just like you.” Shota took the earring in his mouth and worried Hizashi’s earlobe between his teeth.

“Stop. Babe!” Hizashi whimpered. “Dinner’s getting cold.”

“I can reheat it,” he purred.

“God I love you, but I need to eat first.” Hizashi wiggled his eyebrows at him. “Then I’ll love you all night long.”

Shota laughed. “I thought you might want to go out later.”

Hizashi faltered. “I, uh, I thought we’d stay in.”

“You love clubbing.”

“Yeah, but… I, I’m not ready to have other people, strangers touching you.”

“Oh, ‘Zashi. It’s your birthday; we can do whatever you want. If that means going out, I’m game. If you wanna stay in and get the at-home spa treatment, well, that would be perfect too. As long as I’m with you.”

“I could use a spa day,” Hizashi said as he pulled his husband towards the table. “And I’m going to be so very possessive of you tonight, babe. You’re always my favorite present.”

 

The next week, as he entered his mother’s apartment, Izuku was greeted by the heavenly smell of his favorite breakfast. He had completely forgotten about his birthday. He and his mother didn’t usually make much of the day. Inko made a special breakfast of a pancake, a fried egg, two strips of bacon, a small green salad, and a bowl of mixed berries. And, of course, they had Katsudon for dinner. But that was it; she didn't save gifts for a special occasion. There was one thing, it didn't happen every year anymore, but it was why they didn't go out or make plans. They waited.

His mother’s gentle laughter ran down the hall. Izuku’s heart sped up as he sprinted to the kitchen. A tiny, tiny bud of hope blossomed in his chest. Low murmuring was coming from her phone on the counter.

“Is that?” he asked excitedly.

“Oh! Honey, Izuku is back from his run.”

“Hey, sport. Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks, Dad!” he chirped.

“How’s school?”

“It’s great! Did Mom tell you I got into Yuuei?”

“She might have mentioned, yes.”

“I’m being transferred to the hero course!” He bounced on his toes, unable to contain his joy.

“With just a weak healing quirk? Isn’t that dangerous?”

The smile slipped from Izuku’s face. “Uh, well. It’s not weak. It’s not like regeneration, but I – Did you see the sports festival?”

“No.”

“I placed third.”

“That’s good! You should be proud of yourself!”

“I am.”

“Are you making lots of friends?”

“Yeah, my classmates are all really nice, and so are most of the hero course students.”

“That’s good. Are you being good for your mother?”

“Of course,” Izuku said, but he glanced at Inko to see if she’d disagree.

His mom smiled and patted him on the arm as she plated up their breakfast.

“Good to hear!” There was a pause and Izuku could hear a woman’s voice speaking Fijian in the background. “I have to go. It’s work.” The faint sound of a distant, child-like laugh could be heard as well.

“Real quick: why didn’t you visit while I was in the hospital?”

“That was nearly two years ago, Izuku.”

 “One and a half. But whatever, just tell me. Whatever it is, is better than what I’m imagining.”

“By the time I got the news and had everything squared away, you were back at school.”

“You still could have come.”

“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be home for Christmas. I wanted it to be a surprise but, I’m getting a transfer back to Japan.” The woman called him again and he answered back, but his wife and son were far too elated to pay it any mind.

“Oh my god, honey! That’s wonderful!” Inko squealed.

“Dad, that’s fantastic! I can’t wait to see you!”

“Same here, sport. But I really have to go now. I love you both. Bye.”

“Bye, Dad!”

“Goodbye sweetie.”

The phone clicked off and Izuku turned to his mother. Both of them were smiling. They hugged, tittered, and giggled unable to articulate their joy with mere words. Their normal routine was forgotten as they talked about how much they missed him, and how much they were looking forward to seeing him.

 

“Sorry, things are so hectic during finals!” Yamada breezed in and set a glazed donut on Izuku’s desk. “Happy Birthday!”

Izuku smiled. At least he was still being treated like a normal member of class. It felt a little unreal, that despite everything, he was getting into the hero course. Yamada-sensei wasn’t upset that he’d gotten Aizawa in trouble. Aizawa wasn’t even upset that he’d gotten into trouble. He was mad that Izuku hadn’t been working up to his full potential. This meant more training. Izuku grinned. Things were looking up.

 

At lunch, Izuku sat with Kacchan and his friends. “Here, nerd.” He handed him a soft package wrapped in paper with red, blue, and yellow ribbons on a white background.

Izuku opened it, with a huge grin. It was a black tee shirt that said ‘Sidekick’ on it. “Awe, Kacchan. I love it.”

“Good.” 

“Here,” Shinso passed him a plain box.

Izuku opened it and laughed. It was a single pair of All Might socks. “Hitoshi!”

“Hmm? Is there something wrong, Midoriya?”

“N-no,” Izuku stuttered.

“Open mine next!” Hatsume thrust a small gift bag at him.

“Okay, Mei darling.” It was a small All Might themed docking station with a pair of blue earbuds. “Mei!”

“Something the matter, Izuku, darling?”

“Nope. N-nothing. Everything is peachy.”

The three of them laughed.

“You people are weird,” Bakugo muttered.

They laughed harder.

 

After burgers at a fast food place, Todoroki took Izuku on a walk at a local park. They held hands as they walked along the paved path. Neither of them cared too much about getting spotted by reporters, they were just hanging out. They took pictures of the wildlife, the trees, and anything else they found interesting. Some, of course, were sent to Endeavor.

After twenty minutes or so, they stopped at a small ice cream stall and got cones. Izuku got a rich matcha and Todoroki got vanilla. He discreetly used his quirk to keep them from melting. Izuku linked arms with him and leaned his head against Todoroki’s shoulder.

Izuku felt safe and at ease. It was a chance to unwind and just relax. A warm, sunny smile spread across his face. It was as if everything in his life was looking up at once. Todoroki wore his own small, weak smile. It would look like a blank expression to the average passerby, but to Izuku it was a tiny, timid sun shining for the first time.

The pair found an outdoor climbing wall without much of a line. They waited for the kid on it to finish so they could go together.

“You two are so well-behaved,” the mother said. “Most boys your age wouldn’t have the patience.”

Izuku shrugged. “We have time, and he’s doing his best.”

It was a good five minutes before the kid reached the top and crowed about his victory. There was a slide to use if you were uncomfortable being lowered in the harness.

Both boys strapped themselves in without waiting for the full instructions. The employee just shook his head as he checked their work. He was pleasantly surprised not to have to make adjustments. “Okay, you can take all the time you need to reach the top. Don’t worry about slipping, it won’t count against you, and since there’s no one waiting we’ll ignore your falls until a line forms, after that, it’s three falls and you’re out. Got it?”

“Yeah,” they both said grinning mischievously.

The handholds were color-coded. Using all the colors was the easiest and the best for kids. Blue was next, usually used by adults and teens that had never done any climbing before. Green was for inexperienced climbers. Yellow was a moderate difficulty. And red was for experienced climbers. Both boys shot up the wall stretching and reaching, even leaping to challenging holds. They took the wall in a matter of seconds.

“I beat you,” Izuku said.

“We tied.”

“Nuh-uh.” He grinned.

“You wanna ask the instructor?”

“No. I want a prize.”

Todoroki leaned in and kissed Izuku gently on the freckles on his cheek.

 

With the mandate that his training had to be at Yuuei firmly in place, Izuku trekked back there at nine o’clock. Yagi met him at the gate holding a small box and grinning. “Happy birthday, my boy.”

“Awe, you didn’t have to,” Izuku said reaching up for the box.

“It, um, it might not be as, uh, fun as your other gifts, but –”

“It’s from you, Yagi-san,” he cut him off taking the box. “It’ll be great, no matter what it is.”

“I am a bit nervous about it.” He watched as Izuku slid the lid off the box. “I, uh, gave one just like it to Mirai-kun for the first anniversary of becoming my sidekick.” He grinned. “I know it’s a little early, but I think you’ve earned it.”

Izuku started to tear up. It was a Seiko 5 automatic watch. This particular model was a mix between a pilot and a field watch; with five-minute increments on the minute track, and big hour markers and military time on the bezel. It was water resistant to one hundred meters. The hands and hours were a pearly grey that was glow-in-the-dark, while the face was black, with the track being slightly darker. The band was stainless steel. “It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it,’ Yagi said, his shoulders relaxing. “Let’s go see what Aizawa-kun has in store for us today.”

 

Inui had caught him before he left campus, despite the time. Emergency sessions did not count toward their once-a-month agreement. “Anything you’d like to talk about?”

"Um. Well. Is it ethical for me to accept money from Toki’s father, even if I know he’s low-key paying me to be Toki’s friend?”

“Does Toki know about it?”

“I mean, yeah?” Izuku said uncertainly. “He knows his father is paying me, ostensibly for the things I do around the gym; cooking, cleaning, demonstrations, sparing. He’s smart enough to know I don’t need to be paid for that stuff. It’s an incentive to stay, even if Toki is acting like a butt.”

“Does he act out often?” Inui jotted something down in his notes.

He shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I think other people think so, but he’s not that hard to navigate once you get to know him. He’s quiet and seems sullen, but really he’s just not excitable. He doesn’t do overblown displays of emotion.”

“Is the amount reasonable for the work you do?”

Izuku nodded. “I calculated it once and it comes out to be industry standard.”

Inui raised his eyebrows but didn’t press the issue. “You are genuinely friends with Toki?”

“Yeah.” Izuku smiled warmly.

“If he knows about the money, it should be fine. Maybe tell him about your concerns, let him know that if the money went away you would still be friends.” Inui thumped his index finger against his muzzle as if considering something. “You get along with him very well, and you seem to like Kuu.”

“Not this again. We’re not dating. Kuu’s not like that.”

“What’s he like then?”

“He’s kind, caring, paternal. He takes care of Toki.”

“You said Toki was a bit older than you. Shouldn’t he be taking care of himself?”

“He… he could. He’s not incompetent. It’s just… I think he might be on the spectrum or have ADHD. It’s probably undiagnosed. His father is a very private person.”

Inui hummed. “He’s paying you because he thinks his son is disabled?”

Izuku looked down. “He’s not, though. He’s doing so much better than when I first met him; just being around people that don’t coddle him.”

“Do you feel obligated to stay?”

“N-no! We’re friends. Was it hard to get to know him? Yes. Is he a dick sometimes? Yes. Do I think he’d benefit from getting away from his father, and therapy? Absolutely. But that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“Toki was a delinquent. I was never told specifics. His quirk is always on and can cause damage if he’s not careful. He needs a friend that’s not scared of him.”

“You can’t fix someone else’s mental health.”

“I know. There’s a whole list of things I’m not allowed to help him with. Some of them are things he strives to do for himself. Some of it is stuff Kuu insists he does because he’s an adult. Can we talk about something else, now?”

“Of course, anything you’d like.”

 

Kurogiri’s fingers ghosted over his skin. He listed the major arteries and veins as he caressed from the heart out each limb and back. “Relax. Just enjoy the touch for a moment.”

“I am, believe me.” Izuku pulled him down on top of him.

Kurogiri chuckled. “Now, now. We’re getting ahead of ourselves again.” Kurogiri kissed him, slow and deep and lingering. His hands gripped Izuku’s hips, pulling them closer together despite the heavy press of their bare chests. He languished in the taste of his love. Kurogiri nuzzled his neck. “God. All the things I want to do to you.”

“We could - we could try.”

“Oh, Love. Only if you want it.” He licked Izuku’s pulse point; trailing kisses down his torso.

“Maybe just my arms?”

Kurogiri grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. “I could just hold you since you seem so unsure.”

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

“Stray-kun~” Toga called from the door. “Do you wanna go out to celebrate your birthday?”

“I, uh. Not really.”

Toga pouted as she entered the room and shut the door. “Are you ever going to get over that?”

“No?”

“Sweetheart. Stray-kun gets to pick, it's his birthday.”

“Can I at least play with you?”

“Yeah,” Izuku said blushing. 

“As a matter of fact, you can hold his arms,” Kurogiri said. He dragged Izuku to the foot of the bed and positioned his arms behind his back. Kurogiri buried his hand in his hair to tilt his head back. He trailed soft kisses down his neck, nipped at his collarbone, and licked a wide swath across his pecs. 

Izuku gasped and moaned at the treatment. Warm lips pressed against his nipple; tongue and teeth worried it into a hard nub. Toga began kissing his neck; lightly at first, but slowly it became a bite. Izuku moaned as Kurogiri switched sides.

“Not too hard, sweetheart,” Kurogiri murmured against Izuku’s chest.

“You’re no fun.”

“Just wait until we get warmed up,” he purred. He slowly slid down the bed. His hands and mouth worshiped every inch of exposed skin as he went.

“Uh, Kurogiri?”

“Yes, Love?”

“Nothing below the belt,” he told him.

“I can behave for you.”

Chapter 61: Lessons in Love and Checking the Body

On the first day of summer break, Kaminari, Jiro, Tokoyami, Todoroki, Izuku, and Yaoyorozu sat in their usual assigned seats, leaving the first two columns of desks empty. Izuku somewhat wished Shinso and Bakugo could be there, but he was still super excited to participate as an official member of the class.

“We’ll be running this course multiple times,” Aizawa explained, “with small groups from your class. Today it will be the six of you. Just so you know, this will be harder than a regular class. Prepare yourselves.” Aizawa paused to let the weight of that sink in. “In this master class, you’ll be tasked with saving innocent bystanders. And capturing a villain.”

“Yes,” most of the students said together; some louder than others.

“We get to play heroes!” Kaminari exclaimed.

“This should be obvious but villains commit many different types of crime. You six will be dispatched to a scene and will need to determine what happened there. Whether or not a villain was actually at fault. Whether or not you should fight. We will be judging your ability to assess the situation as well as how well you diffuse it. Welcome your instructors.”

The back door of the classroom slid open, suddenly. “I am here! Sneaking in through the back door!” All Might dashed to the middle of the back row and struck a pose. His feet were shoulder width apart and his arms were flexed to show off his biceps; his trademark smile glued to his face. He let out a big booming laugh.

Aizawa cut in dryly, “He’s not the only one today. Cementoss, Midnight, and Present Mic will be assisting. They’ll be acting as special trainers.” He turned and gestured for them to follow. “Let’s get started. Head to Ground Beta and we’ll begin.”

 

Everyone was suited up and admiring the small changes that had once again been made to their costumes.

Jiro had added a headset and noise-canceling communicators. More importantly, the alterations to her costume that Honma-sempai and Fukutomi-sempai suggested had been approved. The under armor was integrated into her existing costume mostly as a white one-piece with three-quarter sleeves and a boy-cut leg. It gave her a bit of padding in the chest and a lot of protection. The choker that was the signature of the original designer was now a black stripe on the high neck of the one-piece. Her gloves and boots were done in the same white.

Kaminari had shortened his jacket to make accessing his first aid kit and pointers easier. His outfit also no longer looked like a tracksuit as the lightning bolt details on it had been shortened and made more obvious.

The armor skirt on Yaoyorozu’s neoprene one-piece had been slimmed down to two panels covering her otherwise exposed thighs. The dictionary had been slimmed down as well. It made more sense to use a digital one combined with a visor, so her hands would remain free. The physical copy was about a quarter of its former size leaving plenty of room for a first aid kit.

Todoroki had replaced his blue body suit with a black one, and added a dark blue half jacket, boots, and gloves; the whole ensemble was, of course, fire resistant. The sleeve on his left arm was made of the same material as his father’s suit.

Tokoyami had changed out his plain black tee shirt for a reinforced top that resembled Hawks’, except with the diamond and stripes in a deep purple that matched Dark Shadow instead of yellow.

Hatsume had gone from subtle influence to a full-blown redesign with Izuku’s costume. The color scheme was brown, forest green, and charcoal grey and the All Might influence was all but gone. The hoodie was now a reversible, hooded, leather and Kevlar jacket; green with a set of stripes across the chest and shoulders, color blocking on the sides and forearms, and keeping the cat ears on the hood for one side and plain, stealth friendly, grey on the other. The color blocking throughout was more padded with concealed pockets for small objects and thrown weapons and concealing zippers that allowed him to modify his costume on the fly. The now detachable sleeves had kunai on the biceps and throwing spikes on the forearms. There was a built-in, concealed sheath for his collapsible staff and the chain whip had been integrated into the belt along with the seals Nighteye had given him. The Silver Age All Might rip-off undershirt hadn’t made the cut at all and had been replaced by a forest green ribbed tank top. Other than color the pants were the same; the cat-themed half mask, shin guard, boots, and gloves were entirely unchanged.

“You kids are abusing the support department at this point,” Aizawa said with a smirk. They all chuckled good-naturedly. “I’ll brief you on the situation: there’s been an attack in this jewelry store. The employees and customers have been taken hostage and are barricaded inside. The number of villains and bystanders is unknown. As pro heroes, you have been asked by the police to intervene and resolve this incident to the best of your abilities.”

Izuku raised his hand.

“I won’t be answering questions.”

“Got it. Assume Schrödinger’s hostages: alive because they have a pulse and dead because they’re play-acting.”

Aizawa glared at him.

Izuku just shrugged. “Unless you wanna hear my question before rejecting it.”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes further but moved on. “Verify the situation yourself and act accordingly.”

“Yes sir,” the students chorused, although Kaminari sounded a little frightened.

“I can’t believe you sassed him like that.”

“I can,” Todoroki replied mildly. “He wasn’t intimidated by Endeavor at all when he met him.”

“You remember that very differently than I do.”

“You told him he was disappointing.”

“I said if he injured me on Yuuei grounds it would be disappointing.”

“You put yourself between us when he tried to grab me.”

“You flinched. What was I supposed to do?”

Todoroki stared at him blankly for a moment. “Exactly.”

Izuku cocked his head and gave him a quizzical look. “I don’t understand.”

“I believe this is what Shinso refers to when he says ‘not all of us grew up with Blasty Bi–,” Tokoyami cut himself off with a glance to Aizawa.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I do kinda see Endeavor as a whiny man-baby with massive insecurity likely from parental abandonment. Huh. He should probably get that looked at.”

Aizawa covered his smile with his scarf. “Clock’s ticking.”

“Right! Ears, can you handle recon?” Izuku asked.

“Ears?”

“Well, Shinso is already Jack in my mind, so…”

“Fine, whatever.”

“We can workshop it later,” he called after her.

They waited patiently until she came back from the side of the building and gave them a breakdown of the situation. “Okay, there are four people in there: one walking around, three stationary.”

“How accurate is your hearing?” Izuku asked as he pulled out his notebook and loaded a blank drawing page.

“If you want to scout yourself –”

“What are their heart rates? Do you have any interrogation training? Can you tell their relative positions?” he rattled off a barrage of technical questions at her.

“Hey, okay, slow down. I could get their heart rates. I guess I could mark their locations on a map of the store if we had a map, but otherwise, all I can do is tell you how far apart they are.”

“All right.” Izuku turned to Aizawa. “Are you playing the officer in charge, or am I talking to a cardboard cutout.”

“Sorry, no blueprints.”

“Not even a layout?”

Aizawa shook his head.

“Damn.” He bit his lip. Izuku peeked out and took a picture of the front of the building. He used it to make a rough sketch for the interior. “Was there a way in the back?”

“No, the front is the only way in or out.”

“Good. So, do we think we can talk him down?”

“Unlikely, given none of us have any negotiations training,” Todoroki said, “but that won’t stop us from trying.”

Aizawa had a contemplative look on his face as the students used the provided phone to contact the villain.

“Who is this? The fuzz?” All Might answered. The phone was on speaker.

Izuku stifled a groan. His mentor was a dork.

“I’m a pro hero,” Yaoyorozu replied confidently. “What –”

“Pro shmo,” he said over the top of her. “I’m not impressed.”

“Are the hostages alive?” she pushed on.

“Hmm, a good question,” All Might said teasingly.

“Release the hostages and we’ll consider your demands.”

“I only have one demand,” he replied. “I want the cops and the heroes to get the hell out of here! If you don’t leave, I guarantee I’ll slice up these hostages.”

“We can do that,” Yaoyorozu lied. “It will take time and a gesture of good faith on your part. You need to release one of the hostages. Then we can start pulling back the police.”

Jiro nodded and Izuku gave her a thumbs-up.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” All Might asked.

Izuku held one finger up above his shoulder and put up a second as he lowered it to mid-chest.

“Half?” Yaoyorozu repeated questioningly. “If we remove half of the police present, will you release a hostage?”

“I want you all gone, now!” he barked back.

“I understand that,” she replied harshly, in a calmer tone she continued, “But you won’t get anything if you don’t work with me.”

He was silent for a long time. “Fine. Ten minutes.”

“Very well.” Yaoyorozu hung up the phone. “Ideas?”

“Obviously we rush him during the hostage release,” Kaminari said.

“Someone will have to protect the hostage then,” Izuku commented.

Tokoyami released Dark Shadow and Izuku immediately felt the pleasant coolness of ocean spray on a warm day. Dark Shadow was drawing power from the shadows in the alley. The ethereal bird nuzzled his cheek and draped himself around Izuku’s shoulders. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Izuku replied with a bright smile. “Would you like to protect the hostage for us?”

Dark Shadow puffed up. “Fumi and I will do a great job!”

“Excellent. We just need to iron out some details, then.”

“If we can make it look like we’ve laid an ambush somewhere else, I think that would throw him off,” Jiro offered.

Izuku nodded. “Brilliant, E. J.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and gave a single shake of her head.

“Noted.”

With a basic plan in mind, the boys moved off to remove some of the police standees. They returned to the alley when they’d finished. Tokoyami, Izuku, and Todoroki immediately moved to the side of the jewelry store to wait. Jiro, Kaminari, and Yaoyorozu moved to the roof across the street from the jewelry store to provide ranged support.

All Might, in the ridiculous gasmask and spikes he wore for the USJ rescue training, approached the door with Midnight, in a skirt suit, tied up and gagged. As soon as he pushed her out the door, Dark Shadow scooped her up. Ice encased All Might, and a dark green blur whooshed passed him into the jewelry store. Izuku only had a moment to take stock of the scene before All Might flexed and shattered the ice.

A fine frosty dust obscured their vision for a second. When it cleared, All Might was lying sprawled on the floor, fake blood splattered on his shirt, and a pool of it around him. Aizawa followed Jiro, Kaminari, and Yaoyorozu up the stairs when Todoroki motioned them in.

Izuku bent down and checked All Might for a pulse. “Pulse is strong and steady at eighty beats a minute.” Izuku sighed. There wasn’t time for him to bleed that much. Izuku pulled out gauze and staunched the ‘wound’. Then he cuffed All Might.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Jiro said, obviously grossed out. “Why don’t we talk outside?”

“Good idea,” Yaoyorozu agreed. “You and I can talk with Midnight.”

“Perfect,” Dark Shadow practically dumped her on the girls. He then settled around Izuku’s shoulders again.

“Shoto, can you and Kaminari take Present Mic?” Izuku asked, scratching Dark Shadow’s chin. “What an excellent job you did. There’s not a single shard of glass or ice anywhere on her. Now I need you to keep an eye on that big scary villain while Fumi and I talk to this witness. Okay?”

“Okay.” He adjusted so he could see All Might.

“Please do not speak to Dark Shadow as if he were a child,” Tokoyami admonished him. “And don’t call me Fumi.”

“Sorry,” Izuku said.

“It is fine.”

“It’s not, but I think you meant you accept my apology.”

Tokoyami nodded. He untied Cementoss. “Everything will be alright, now. Are you injured?”

“No. Thank you.”

“We’d like you to answer a few basic questions,” Izuku said. “Can we see your ID? And can you tell us what happened?”

“Of course,” he replied, pulling out his wallet to show them his Identification card. “I’m but a humble employee of this store. A villain suddenly appeared and threatened me. I handed over the jewels, and he tied me up.”

“Okay, rewind a little for me,” Izuku said. “Did you have many customers this morning? Anyone out of the ordinary? Anyone just browsing?”

“No not many, just a few regulars,” Cementoss answered. “Two to pick up custom orders, and one to schedule a resizing. No one came in to browse except that blonde fellow. Said he was looking for something for his girlfriend, in diamonds, I believe.”

Izuku nodded and was about to ask his next question when Tokoyami beat him to it. “And when did the woman come in?”

“After the villain was already here.”

Izuku sighed again.

“Problem Midoriya?” Aizawa asked.

“Just tell me you wrote the scenario and not All Might.”

“Actually, Nezu wrote it,” Aizawa said with a smirk.

“Good.” Izuku returned his attention to their ‘witness’. “Alright, walk us through what happened when the villain arrived.”

“As I said, that blonde fellow was browsing, I was just about to show him a splendid diamond ring, when the villain came in. He knocked the fellow out and ordered me to put the jewels in a bag. After I did, he tied us both up. Then the woman came in, he grabbed her before she realized what was going on and tied her up as well. The police arrived then.”

“Did you call them? or trigger an alarm?”

“No, I didn’t have time.”

“Well, that sounds pretty cut and dry. Thank you. Oh! Are there security cameras in this store?” Izuku asked untangling himself from Dark Shadow.

Cementoss seemed a bit taken aback by the question.

Aizawa answered. “There are.”

“Can we have a look at them?”

“Oh, of course.” Cementoss led Izuku to the back, while Tokoyami remained with All Might.

The footage backed up his story. Unfortunately, the shattered ice obscured the ‘stabbing’. It did show that both Present Mic and Cementoss were tied up at that moment.

“Perfect.” Returning to the front, Izuku found the others waiting. Dark Shadow settled back on his shoulders, still staring intently at All Might, who was sweating a bit. “So, the tapes back up what Mr. Employee said. Couldn’t see past the ice, though.”

Tokoyami nodded. “The other’s stories match that as well.”

“So, it’s suicide?” Todoroki asked.

“What’s the motive?” Jiro asked.

Izuku shrugged. “I don’t know ask Ms. Midnight. She’s either an accomplice or close acquaintance.”

“How dare you accuse me!”

“The storefront is glass, the villain is seven feet tall and advertising, your timing is suspicious, to begin with, but paired with him stabbing himself? He was protecting you. You could argue that he chose you as the hostage to release because you’re a woman, but it would have been smarter to release the one with the possible head injury.” A hint of annoyance crept into Izuku’s voice.

Midnight had started tearing up. It was bad acting on her part and wouldn’t gain her any sympathy from him.

Jiro patted her back. “They must be close. She knew his plan; he tried to off himself to protect her.”

Izuku shrugged. “It’s as likely as any of a hundred other interpersonal connections they might have. Also, either the blood pack needs adjusting, or this blood pool is suspiciously large.” He bent down and smudged it with his finger. He gave it a sniff. It smelled sweet. “Syrup?”

Yaoyorozu took a sample with supplies she created.

Izuku made a mental note to look into a basic CSI kit. “Anyway, it took me longer than I’d like to realize the fake blood was too fake. The smell of blood makes me nauseous.”

Aizawa cocked his head, filing that little fact away for later. “Okay, that’s enough.”

“Oh! This was so fun!” Midnight said cheerily, doing a complete one-eighty from her waterworks.

“Thanks, you four. You’re all done here. Save your strength for the next group.” He turned to the students. “Congratulations. Jiro, Midoriya, that was exactly what we had scripted for this scenario. The villain did stab himself with his own knife. It was smart work getting to that conclusion so quickly, and questioning the witnesses separately. But you weren’t perfect. You six missed several important things. Therefore, you earned… eighty points.”

“Solid B!” Kaminari exclaimed.

“And on a scenario designed by principal Nezu,” Izuku agreed with a nod. “I’ll take it.”

“Both providing medical aid and securing the villain were vital to passing,” Aizawa continued. “Your negotiations over the phone were commendable. Teamwork was solid, as were your tactics. Many pros find themselves floundering when it comes to investigations, but as first responders, our job is multifaceted. You didn’t do too badly for first years. Official – individual – scores will appear on your student portal by the end of the break.” He paused. “Midoriya, the fake blood was supposed to stand in for real blood. I’ll make a note that the current stand-in is inadequate, for sensory purposes. That’s it for your special class. You’re dismissed.”

 

Dark Shadow was still around Izuku’s shoulders as the four boys entered the locker room to change back into their school uniforms. His touch was as cool and refreshing as the tangy salt air of the newly cleaned Dagobah beach. Yet, there was an underlying warmth, like the sun on a clear spring day.

“While Dark Shadow finds you quite appealing, I must say that I find his fondness of you somewhat disturbing,” Tokoyami said quietly. He recalled Dark Shadow as he pulled his shirt off.

“Uh, well, I don’t wanna disturb you or anything, but what’s so concerning?”

“He says he likes your quirk.”

“And?”

“He has never done anything like that before.”

Izuku shrugged. “We’re teenagers, things change.”

“He said your quirk was nearly as welcoming as I am.” Tokoyami shook his head. “I do not understand. Your quirk is merely rapid healing. He shouldn’t be able to – to feel it.”

Izuku blinked at him for a moment. Welcoming. His shadow. “Uh…”

Todoroki cut in, “Actually, Izuku moved at near super speed today. I think his quirk is more complicated than that.”

Izuku laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, yeah. It is a mutation, and it only manifested last year, so really, I’m still learning about it. Like it enables rapid muscle growth – breaking them down from a workout and healing them with a short rest – but there doesn’t seem to be an upper limit to how much I can improve.”

“Still I would like it if you kept your distance for a time. This is strange and bewildering.”

“I wanna be friends, so, sure. I’ll give you guys some space to figure it out, and I’ll let you know about any enlightening developments on my end. Okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem. Well, it puts a damper on my plans to invite you for coffee or lunch and interrogate you about your quirk, but I can wait. I can be patient. Text messaging is a thing.” He grinned unabashedly at Tokoyami.

“I feel like I’m drowning whenever he touches you.” Tokoyami finished changing and left quickly.

“Was that a love confession?” Kaminari asked.

“I… I don’t think so,” Izuku said carefully. “We’ve barely talked. Maybe, Dark Shadow has never made friends of his own before?”

“What would it mean if it were a confession?” Todoroki asked.

Izuku shrugged, again. “We’d talk about it.”

“Good,” Todoroki replied. He leaned over and gave Izuku a quick peck on the cheek. The three of them finished changing in silence.

 

Todoroki had pulled him aside as soon as they walked out the front gate. “Get a coffee with me.”

“Oo, an order. Fancy.”

“I didn’t mean to – that wasn’t … Sorry.”

Izuku cupped his cheeks and leaned in for a slow and sensual kiss. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it as an order.”

Todoroki smiled softly at him. “God. I can’t fake date you.” It was said sweetly, but any emotion was muted by Todoroki’s usual subdued countenance.

“Oh,” Izuku replied sadly. He let go and took a step back.

Todoroki grabbed his wrists and pulled him in close. “Izuku Midoriya, would you go on a real date with me?”

“Oh!” Izuku chirped happily. “Yes! Yes, of course, I would.”

Todoroki sagged with relief and hugged him close. “I got jealous when you said you wanted to invite Tokoyami to coffee. I like you.”

Izuku smiled. “I know a great little coffee place.”

 

The sun was setting by the time Izuku arrived out front of his apartment complex. He was still warm and fuzzy from sharing coffee and a scone with his boyfriend. He wondered if Kurogiri would be jealous. He wondered if he wanted Kurogiri to be jealous.

“I am here! Waiting to ambush young Midoriya on his walk home from Yuuei!” All Might announced as he rushed toward Izuku. He stopped in the driveway right in front of Izuku. He’d added a brown jacket to his usual civilian attire. “Hi!”

“Oh, hey. I wasn’t planning on training with you tonight, what with the special classes and all, but if you have something I can work on without straining your limit, I’m game. You can join Mom and me for dinner!”

All Might transformed back into Yagi with a puff of smoke and a harsh, bloodless, cough. “Young Midoriya,” he said in a much more subdued manner, “there’s a place called I-island. Have you ever heard of it?”

“Of course! It’s all the support department has been talking about for weeks. It’s an internationally funded, privately owned, artificial, mobile island housing around ten thousand scientists and twice that in support staff. It’s a technological paradise for the research and development of quirks and support items! It’s incredible. It’s security system –”

Yagi cut him off, “Do you wanna go there with me?”

Izuku gasped. “Really? You’re offering to take me to I-island?”

“I don’t mean we’ll just be goofing off. Now that you’ve officially become my successor there are lots of tricks of the trade you need to learn about.”

“Are you sure about this? It’s so exclusive. And the security! The cost!”

Yagi nodded, his eyes housing a fierce determination.

Izuku mirrored his expression. “Let’s go!” He waited for a beat. “Ask my mom for permission!”

Yagi faltered. “Er- right, we’d better hurry, then. The plane will be ready in an hour and a half!”

"Yagi-san! That’s too short of notice!”

“I only got the invite this morning!”

“Then you should have cleared it with Mom as soon as you decided to invite me!”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right.”

Chapter 62: Going to I-island

Notes:

*Squee* It's the start of the I-island Arc! I'm so excited. This will largely follow the plot of the first movie, but there will naturally be changes and character development. I hope you all enjoy it!

Izuku packed and texted at the same time. The quick text to Todoroki explaining he was going to be gone for the next three or four days was replied to with, Same, I got invited to the I-expo for winning the Yuuei Sports Festival. Dad got an invite too; says it’ll be good networking.

Well, this will be fun then. Are you invited to the reception party on the first night of the expo? Izuku neatly folded three tee shirts into the carryon bag his mother had pulled out of her closet. One was plain black, one charcoal grey and the last was the fitted navy blue one Kurogiri had gotten him for their first date. Izuku blushed as he remembered the show, the conversations, and the promises. He touched the jute cord around his wrist.

Wait. Are you? Todoroki texted back.

Yeah, I have connections. ;) So, you?

Yes.

What will you be wearing? He picked out three pairs of shorts and three pairs of jeans and folded them into the suitcase. He eyed the picture he was sent and tried to imagine Todoroki in the white suit, blue button-up, and red striped tie. Not bad. Ties make me a bit crazy.

It’s my dad’s.

I’ll bring you one. An idea about how to mess with Endeavor was forming; it would even be a semi-romantic thing to do with Todoroki.

We’re not going to…

Do things we haven’t talked about yet? No. I’m saucier on text, where you can’t see me blushing. Izuku added an empty water bottle – All Might themed – and a guidebook for the I-expo from three years ago bookmarked with all the halls, shows, and pavilions he wanted to see.

Still, we should talk about how far.

Do you currently want more than handholding and kisses?

Cuddling? Like is Netflix and Chill what I think it is or…

It’s sex.

Netflix and Cuddling, then.

Sure. It’s a date. Izuku tossed in a pair of cotton flannel pants and a long-sleeved, waffled-cotton jersey with a picture of All Might in sheepprint pajamas and a sleep cap on it.

Oh, speaking of! After we get back, I’m going to the mall (on Saturday) to pick some stuff up for the Summer Camp, want to come with me?

Yes. Anyway, see you there. I have to pack.

He looked at the dark brown pinstriped suit his mom had pulled out of her closet when Yagi said he needed to pack something formal. Frowning, he texted Kurogiri. Are we busy over the next three days? I got an invite to I-expo.

Nothing that can’t be pushed back for such a rare opportunity.

Tomura joined their chat, A little notice would be nice.

I just found out myself. I’m packing as we speak and I leave tonight!

Not enough time to plan something, Tomura complained. Get me a Duel Screen Retro, the ones sold there ignore region locking. He left the group chat.

He took that well, Izuku texted.

I’ll give you a prepaid with ¥1.25 m on it. Don’t take your other card or phone.

Whoa, that’s too much!

Good, I was aiming for more than you could possibly spend.

Are you spoiling me?

Every chance I get.

I feel bad now.

Why? Because you’re going on a weekend trip with All Might?

Because Todoroki will be there, and he asked me to date-date him instead of fake-dating him.

Good.

Good?

I want you to date, specifically people your own age. It’s healthy. You have my full approval and blessing.

I love you.

I love you, too.

Um… Not to be rude (is it rude to ask you this?) but do we have anything that would match a white suit? It’s what Shoto will be wearing to the reception.

It’s not rude to ask me for advice. I love helping you. I’ll send you a few things with your card. I think a nice vest, so as not to look too matching. Shirt color?

It’s a light blue. And can you send a couple of ties? So he’s not wearing his dad’s.

Can’t have that. I’ll send a selection. Set your phone in the closet, love.

But, I’ll miss you.

And I you, but I-island security makes Yuuei’s look like a low fence and a couple of nanny cams. And it will be focused on communication, to prevent leaks and corporate espionage.

Izuku took a picture of his shadow across the bed, the packed but still open suitcase sitting in the middle. Love you. Think of me. I miss you already. Argh. Here goes nothing.

I love you, too. I plan on doing more than thinking; don’t forget your sock garters . It will be easier when you get there and you have things to do. Stay out of trouble, Love.

He set the dark grey phone, and the brown suit, in the closet and shut the door. A moment later, he heard a brief soft noise over the sound of him reorganizing his bag. When it stopped, he opened the closet. There were three or four navy blue ties, a white vest, pants, a light blue, long-sleeved button-up, the blue tennis shoes Kurogiri got him for their first date, a pre-paid debit card, and a book. An innocent-looking book whose cover was a tasteful black with a delicate swirling pattern on it. The title was done in a soft gold color and a fancy handwriting font: Wanderlust: a Seductive Anthology.

Izuku packed all of it, blushing furiously. Then he grabbed his sock garters out of the bottom of his underwear drawer. He zipped the bag decisively and joined his mom and Yagi in the living room.

“And we’ll call as soon as we’re through security,” Yagi explained. “Oh, Izuku! Good. All packed? Got everything you’ll need?”

“I think so.”

Inko got up and hugged him tightly. “Oh, Izuku. This is a wonderful opportunity for you.”

“I’ll miss you too Mom, but it’s only three days.”

“And then straight off to your training camp for a whole week!”

“Yeah, sorry. But, hey, we won’t miss any Sundays together!”

Inko smiled warmly as she released him. “True. Well, you two should hurry. Have a great time. Call me when you get there!”

 

Izuku shook Yagi awake as they approached the island.

“Something the matter, young Midoriya?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“We’re almost there. We can see it,” he replied smooshing his face against the window.

Yagi leaned over to look out the window with him.

“Right there!” he gushed, “A floating city that can move anywhere! I can’t believe this is where I get to start summer vacation. It’s so amazing!”

“I didn’t realize that you’d be this excited,” Yagi said sitting back in his seat. “I’m glad I invited you.”

“Me too, but um, are you sure it’s okay? I don’t want to cause you any problems.”

“Don’t even think twice about it. The invitation is clear: I’m welcome to bring whoever I want as my guest.”

“But doesn’t that usually mean a family member or –”

Yagi cut him off, waving a finger at him. “I think you’re forgetting that the two of us are connected by something far thicker than blood, young Midoriya. We will forever share the bond of One for All.”

Izuku forced himself to perk up at that. “Right.” He gave a sharp nod.

The pilot came on the com then, and announced their descent.

Yagi sighed. “This is going to be exhausting. Once we land and go out in public, I’ll have to maintain my muscle form constantly. We should both get changed.”

Izuku changed quickly and tried not to stare at Yagi as he did the same. Yagi was lean, too lean really, but every inch of him was covered in tight-corded muscle. His collarbone was as sharp as his cheekbones. You could grate vegetables on his abs. The scar was higher up and more forward than he always pictured it. He imagined it on Yagi’s side, at the bottom of his ribcage, but in reality, the center was between the fifth and sixth ribs; a piercing injury with jagged tentacles that stretched out twelve inches in diameter. His mind had prettied up that as well, making its shape resemble a flower, starburst, or spider web. It was nothing so romantic, so poetic. The scar was an angry red, purple, and bruised in some places, aggravated by every transformation. It looked like shattered glass made flesh.

Izuku opened his mouth to say something. To apologize for sins that were not his. To confess to damning secrets. He closed it again when Yagi glanced his way before puffing up. Turning away, Izuku slipped his mask on and flipped down the charcoal gray filtration screen Hatsume had installed after he’d told her about his internship. It would help protect him against more than one type of blush.

“Not very pleasant to look at, huh?” All Might asked.

“Er, it’s not that,” Izuku replied, still looking away. The sight of All Might’s cheeky grin had elicited an odd mixture of guilt and anger in him. “It’s just a reminder.”

“Of what you may have to endure in the future because of my failure.”

Izuku turned to him. “No. Of what you have endured to be the symbol of peace.” He stepped over to All Might and ran his gloved hand over the section of suit covering the scar. There was extra padding to help disguise it if anyone got handsy. “Of what could well be the history of our quirk.”

All Might lit up. “You called it ours.”

“That’s not,” he took a step back, “I mean, the deal is still on, but yes, at least for now, I’m part owner.”

All Might chuckled. “I’ll count that as progress.” He returned to his seat and buckled up for the landing.

Izuku followed suit, his emotions still roiling. He was quiet as they disembarked and All Might must have noticed because he started asking Izuku trivia questions about I-island as they rode the autowalk through security. Honestly, Izuku was glad for the distraction from feelings he didn’t want to examine.

He babbled happily about all the facts and figures he knew of – regurgitating far too much information for each question – until he was pulled to the side for a briefing on his support gear.

“Kid,” the guard started, “do you even know how many weapons you’re carrying?”

“Yes. Want a list?” he asked, cocking his head. “Don’t you already have one? All Might said he emailed you the specs.”

“Do you really need six pairs of noise-canceling earbuds?”

“They’re noise-canceling short-range communicators, actually; great for team-ups.”

The guard frowned. “You know I could confiscate all of this.”

“I’m shaking in my Hydro-Shield, Rip-stop, ultra-fine microfiber polyester/laminate blend Tabi boots,” he said flippantly. “Everything I’ve got is either covered by Yuuei’s umbrella patent or public domain. I don’t mind if you stow them on the plane for me.” He grinned widely, and realizing the filter was still down flipped it back up.

“Just don’t cause trouble.”

“I wasn’t.” He knew he was more irritated than he should be and tried to regulate his breathing to calm down. “Look, it’s your call but don’t treat me like I’m stupid just because I’m young.”

The guard waved him on.

“How many weapons are you carrying, out of curiosity?” All Might asked as they exited into the main pavilion.

Izuku dashed ahead instead of answering. There were so many green spaces. The buildings were so colorful and the architecture so varied that the closest thing to cohesion they had was looking like a circus, and yet it was breathtaking nonetheless. He gasped and chuckled as a few things caught his eye: a hanging Ferris wheel shaped like an atom, a welcome sign – one of three – that was a display of incredible Hydrokinesis and a giant electric yellow harp that produced holographic notes.

All Might caught up to him, muttering about the location of the hotel. They were immediately greeted by a young woman in one of the three white and pastel hostess uniforms. When she realized she was speaking to All Might she blushed and her eyes went wide in amazement. Her cry of surprise and delight drew a crowd, and soon Izuku was being crushed by a wave of excited fans.

He leaped up onto All Might’s broad shoulders. “Not cool!”

“Please, form a line for autographs!”

“Hey! No kissing without his consent!” Izuku barked, lightly swatting the offender on the top of the head. “Rude!”

              

Izuku was still perched on All Might’s shoulders when the crowd finally dissipated. He pulled his phone out and, after checking the time, sent his mother a text saying that they’d landed and made it through security.

“That took longer than I thought, at this point, we’re in terrible danger of being late,” All Might said wiping lipstick off his face. Izuku had done an admirable job of enforcing consent, but that had made more people ask, and he’d felt awkward saying no to a little peck on the cheek.

“Late for what?”

“I wanted to drop in on a dear old pal of mine –”

“David Shield?” Izuku asked hopefully.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen him in quite a while.”

“Since before the injury?”

“Well, just after. He visited me in the hospital.”

“I thought scientists on I-island couldn’t travel.”

“It was a family emergency,” he explained. “Anyway, would you mind coming along?”

Izuku beamed at him, leaning forward precariously on his shoulder. “Not only will I get a chance to meet the David Shield, but I’ll also get to hear some more college stories! Of course I want to come along!”

All Might whispered, “I haven’t told him about One for All and how I’ve passed it on to you, so keep everything under wraps, okay?”

“Dude,” Izuku said scoldingly.

“It’s dangerous, you know that.”

“You told Nezu. You teach at Yuuei. Its … look, I won’t spill the beans but you should.”

All Might frowned at him. “I suppose.”

“Security’s as tight as Tartarus’. But at least let him know you’re retiring.”

“Right of course.”

Their conversation was interrupted by an energetic blonde girl on a futuristic pogo stick. “There you are, uncle! Finally!” She laughed as she bounced towards them. She flung herself at them. “Welcome Uncle Might!”

All Might caught her with ease and twirled around, trusting Izuku to either jump down or hold tight. “It’s good to see you, Melissa.”

“Oh my gosh! It’s been forever.”

All Might held her up as if she was a toddler, and was a little surprised to feel Izuku still clinging to his shoulder. Melissa’s fingers brushed Izuku’s boot and glove.

While she was a lot paler than him and much smaller, only five foot six, for a moment Izuku considered that the girl could be a genuine genetic relation. He dismissed it on closer examination of her sparkling blue eyes; they looked too much like her father’s.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“I’m truly grateful for the invitation.” His grin widened, “I almost didn’t recognize you. When did you go and get so grown up?”

“Well, I am seventeen, now, you know. Much heavier than the last time you saw me.”

“Are you?” He hoisted her into the air. “No!”

Izuku smirked at his mentor’s antics as the man laughed genuinely and set her down. Melissa laughed along with him.

“Glad to see you’re looking well, though I suppose you always are.”

Izuku finally hopped down as the two started chatting. He investigated her fancy pogo stick. He gave it a gentle poke to see if it would fall over. When it wobbled but remained upright he started examining it, trying to remember what Maijima-sensei had taught him about support gear analysis. It was definitely made of an advanced, ultra-light carbon fiber and titanium alloy, with a gyroscope to keep it standing. There were tiny seams all over the thing in little hex patterns, invisible to the naked eye and barely noticeable to the touch.

“Oh, right!” All Might’s voice caught his attention. “Young Midoriya, allow me to introduce you to my friend Dave’s daughter.”

Izuku turned to face them.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” she said brightly. “I’m Melissa Shield.” She stepped forward to shake his hand.

“Hi! Nice to meet you, too,” Izuku replied offering his own hand. “I’m a first-year student at Yuuei High School, Izuku Midoriya.”

“In the hero course,” she asked.

Izuku rubbed the back of his head with his other hand. “Uh, yeah.”

“So that’s how you know Uncle Might.”

Izuku chuckled. “Actually, he rescued me from a villain last year.”

“He’ll be a great pro one day,” All Might added putting a reassuring hand on Izuku’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe that I’m meeting someone that Uncle Might teaches.” She leaned closer to Izuku. “You must have a promising future.”

“Er,” he stepped back. “So I’m told. It’s hard to say this early on, though.”

Melissa started to circle him. “So,” she said slowly, “what kind of quirk do you have?”

“Ah, well, it’s a mutation, actually. R-rapid healing, but there are some other benefits.”

“The costume is cool, though it is a pretty simple design.” She touched the ears of his hood. “Hmm.”

Izuku flipped the filtration screen down again.

“I don’t see any suppo–” Her sentence cut off as she made her way back to the front of him. “Oh!”

“Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there.” He pulled his collapsible staff out and offered it to her.

“Oh!” She examined it. “So, you plan on being a stealth-type hero.”

“Nah,” he said, hopping back up on All Might’s shoulder. “Just an effective one.”

All Might laughed. “Aizawa-kun really is rubbing off on you.”

“Phrasing~,” Izuku said softly as he straddled one of All Might’s shoulders. He popped open a pouch on his belt. “That reminds me this will let you contact me if we get separated. Mei set me up with extras.” He showed the communicator to Melissa before fitting it into All Might’s ears. He hopped back down.

All Might cleared his throat.

“You okay?” Izuku asked as he secured his staff.

“I’m fine; it’s just been a while since someone’s used me as terrain.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

“If it’s a strain, I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable, then it’s not fine and you should say something.”

“Er, right. No, I’m fine with it.” All Might scratched the back of his head. “Ah, anyway we should get going, right, Melissa?”

“Oh, yeah, right this way.”

“Actually,” Izuku said, “can we stop by our hotel first?”

“Of course,” Melissa replied cheerfully. She lifted the pogo stick and pushed a button on it. The whole thing started glowing and the panels rearranged themselves into a densely packed but small cube that she slipped into her pocket.

 

“Sorry, there’s only one bed,” Melissa said as they entered the room.

“No worries, I don’t need much sleep,” Izuku replied taking in the room.

It wasn’t overly large but it was spacious enough to navigate with All Might in it. Down the wall next to the door was a massive flat-screen TV. Two low-armed lounge chairs and a matching ottoman made up a sitting area in front of it. Facing the bed was the door to the bathroom and a curved, built-in desk. Normally Izuku would have thought that the massive California king was too big – he and Kurogiri shared a queen with Toga comfortably – but it would still be two inches too short for All Might. On the far side of the bed was a spacious closet and the far wall was entirely glass, leading out to a huge balcony and giving them a spectacular view of the island interior.

“We could get you a cot,” she offered.

Izuku tossed his suitcase onto the ottoman. “Not worth the hassle, I can nap in one of the chairs. Would have preferred a couch, but, eh, no big.” He poked his head into the bathroom and gave a low whistle.

The bathroom seemed like it was the same size as the rest of the suite. There was a hexagonal bay window flanking the bathtub. The fixtures were all clean and modern. The tub, a deep Jacuzzi soaker, and shower –

 a step up with glass enclosure – both looked like they could fit two of All Might. The shower was particularly nice, with a rain shower, an impressive array of jets, and a gorgeous floating bench that was a single slab of teak. The toilet was in a closed-off cubicle.

All Might stretched. “We’ll work it out later.” He tossed his own suitcase on the bed. “Come on!”

Izuku laughed. “Okay, okay.”

              

The central tower, where most of the labs were, was a two-hundred-story tall concrete and glass monstrosity. Three connected sub-towers reached only eighty stories. Windows were largely absent, except for the massive banks of windows on the plant factory levels.

Melissa took them straight to the elevator and up with her key card. Once they were outside of David Shield’s lab, she had them wait in the hall.

All Might grinned as he listened to their muffled conversation. On his cue, All Might stepped in and boomed, “Yes! I Am Here! Shaking with emotion for our heartfelt reunion.” He struck several poses.

“Toshi,” Shield gasped.

“A-all Might!” his assistant stuttered. “Is it really you?”

All Might surged forward gleefully. “I came all this way,” he scooped Shield up and began spinning with him, “just to see you, Dave, old buddy.”

Shield lost his footing as All Might set him down and landed on his butt. Izuku would have found it as comical as the others if he hadn’t hopped on All Might’s shoulders again, to get a picture of his reaction. While his daughter asked if he was surprised, Shield stared at All Might in horror.

“Yeah, completely astounded,” he recovered quickly, looking away.

“We both have Melissa to thank for that,” All Might said as they both stood up. “Man, how long has it been?”

“Ha, now, come on, don’t make me say it, I already feel old enough, ya jerk.”

All Might let out a big booming laugh. Shield joined him a little more genuinely. “You do have a point!” More seriously, he said, “Glade to see you again, my friend.”

“Agreed, I’ve missed you too.”

They held their fists up and brought them in ninety percent for a bump, but slowed down for the last ten percent. Izuku was reminded there, that while it had been nearly thirty years, there was a time when he too was learning to control One for All. He smiled from his shoulder-top perch.

“Young Midoriya, why don’t you come down so I can introduce you to someone incredible, David Shield.”

Izuku hopped down. “A man that needs no introduction! He’s received a Nobel prize for his quirk research, he partnered with you during your college years, and is the designer for all of your costumes! Sorry, I’m geeking out.” He bowed. “I just never thought I’d get to meet you in real life. I’m just so moved.” Izuku vibrated with excitement.

“It seems I don’t have to introduce myself,” Shield said smiling indulgently.

Izuku jolted. He bowed again. “I’m sorry!”

“No, don’t apologize,” Shield said warmly.

The pair glanced at All Might when he tried to discreetly cover a cough.

“Listen, it’s been a long time, can the two of you give All Might and me a little time to catch up?” Shield asked.

Izuku nodded. “Yeah, sure thing.” Izuku turned to All Might. “See you at the reception?”

All Might nodded.

“Melissa, why don’t you take our new friend on a tour around the expo?”

“Sure thing, papa. Sounds like fun.”

“You’re not busy?” Izuku asked, partially hoping that she would be, as he would have loved to explore on his own.

“No, I’m honored to show off our hard work to a future hero,” Melissa replied. “Right this way.” She led the way out.

“Thanks, Melissa,” Izuku said as he discreetly reached up and turned the receiver for his communicator on. “This is so nice of you.”

In the hall, he could clearly hear Shield address his assistant, “Sam, you should take a break too.”

Mie was amazing. He was glad he’d let her run wild on his gear. I-expo was also the perfect place to practice splitting his attention; any slip-ups could be blamed on the attractions.

“So,” Melissa started conversationally as they made their way back to the elevator, “what do you want me to call you? By your real name or do you have a hero one already?”

Izuku nodded. “It’s Cheshire.”

Chapter 63: A Warm Reception

Izuku could hear All Might coughing and David saying, “Are you alright, Toshi?” very close to the speaker. All Might’s reply was in that change of tone that meant he was Yagi again. Izuku smiled; at least he wouldn’t have to stress himself around his friend.

“You said it was bad in your email, but I had no idea it was this serious.”

“ –first, or the music hall?”

Damn. He’d missed the first half of her question. “Ah, um, whatever you’d recommend,” he attempted to recover. “I left my guidebook at the hotel. It’s a bit outdated anyway.” Izuku beamed at her, genuinely a little embarrassed.

“Definitely the main exhibition hall, then,” Melissa said cheerfully.

Izuku followed her taking in as much as he could while listening to Shield usher Yagi into a medical lab. His attention was torn but he was doing better at focusing on Melissa as she showed him a submersible jet, an insane dive suit, and a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree display helmet. He was starting to wish he’d brought his notebook.

“Almost everything here was created using different inventions that Papa patented.”

“It can be overwhelming to live up to that kind of a reputation.”

“Uh, yeah. I didn’t really mean it like that,” Melissa explained. “Sure it can get a little overwhelming thinking about how far I have to go, but just imagine all the people I’ll be able to help, directly and indirectly with my inventions, just like Papa!” She smiled brightly at him.

He smiled back, more interested in the medical data Shield was relaying to Yagi. “Glad you’re coping well. I’m sure you’re going to be amazing.”

From behind them, Izuku heard a familiar voice, “Oh! Midoriya!”

“Uraraka?” He turned around to see her, Yaoyorozu, and Jiro. “Hey.”

“Who’s this?” Uraraka asked.

“My new friend, Melissa,” he said offhandedly. “Yaoyorozu, Jiro, I didn’t think I’d see you here. Nice.” Like him, the three girls were wearing their hero costumes.

“You appear to be having a good time,” Yaoyorozu said.

“Yeah,” he replied with a wide grin. Izuku turned to Melissa, “These three are some of my classmates: Yaoyorozu, our class rep, Jiro, and Uraraka.” Turning back to them he said, “She’s showing me around.”

“You didn’t say anything about being here,” Yaoyorozu said.

Izuku shrugged. “It was a last-minute invite. I barely had time to text Shoto.”

“Nice to meet you,” Melissa piped up. “My dad and Uncle Might are really good friends! I’m happy to meet more of his students.”

“Uncle…” Jiro started.

“… Might?” Uraraka finished.

“Yeah, her dad is world renowned inventor David Shield,” Izuku said as if that explained it.

“Why don’t we all get tea at the café?” Melissa offered.

As they walked, Melissa filled the girls in on the back story between All Might and her father. Then she questioned them about their internships. Meanwhile, Izuku trailed behind paying more attention to Yagi’s medical checkup.

“You need to eat more.”

“I have been, I mean I was. It’s… complicated. I haven’t. I mean I’ve skipped a few meals in the last couple of weeks, but before that, I was doing okay.”

“Toshi…”

“I know,” he sighed. “I know. I’ll do better.”

“I’m just concerned.”

Izuku could hear them shuffling around and he was sure that Yagi was being hooked up to some equipment. He turned his attention back to the group as they arrived at the café.

Kaminari, of all people, seated them and gave them menus. He was dressed in a white button-up, black vest, and slacks, with an apron. “Hey, Midoriya. Rolling with the hotties, I see.”

Izuku blushed. “Well, only some of them.”

“So the rest of the girls are here?”

“Yes,” Yaoyorozu confirmed. “But I was only able to get three tickets to the preview.”

“Nice. I’m lucky to be here at all. My grades were just high enough to qualify for this job. I get to see the expo and make some extra cash.” He grinned. “So what will everyone have?”

Yaoyorozu ordered a high-end hot tea, Jiro got an iced tea, Uraraka picked a small latte, and Melissa an iced mocha.

“Can I get a Matcha frap? And what have you got that’s high calorie?” Izuku asked. “I did not eat on the plane.”

Kaminari cocked his head for a moment. “Eh, anything that comes with fries, really. They have these thick-cut seasoned ones and they use them like a bed of rice. A medium side is enough for two, and a large is actually family-sized.”

“Perfect. We can all share a large fry then. And is this breakfast sandwich any good?”

“I’ll have them put it on waffles for you, it’s glorious.”

“I could go for a burger,” Uraraka admitted.

“Stuffed mushroom burger with grilled onions and peppers?”

She nodded.

Jiro glanced at the menu. “Burger sounds good, but I’m not that hungry.”

“Quarter pounder with a slice of grilled pineapple, no cheese.”

“Oh. Yes.”

“I’ll just have the grilled cheese with tomato and avocado,” Yaoyorozu said. “And a cup of tomato basil soup, please.”

“No problem, Yaomomo.” He turned to Melissa. “And you?”

“Um, are you another one of Cheshire’s classmates?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “A few of us are here. I mean, not at the preview, but for the expo.”

“Who?” Izuku asked.

“Well, Sero, Sato, Shoji, and Tokoyami, that I know of.”

“Dang, that makes like half the class,” Jiro said.

“At least we won’t be alone if anything happens,” Uraraka said.

The other three that had been at the USJ incident nodded.

Melissa looked at them quizzically.

“Oh, uh,” Izuku sputtered. He explained quietly, “The class was attacked once at a training thing and someone was killed during their internship.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Melissa covered her mouth with her hand as if to stop a litany of condolences.

“We’re… coping,” Yaoyorozu said. “It’s hard, but we will get through it. We’ll be stronger for it. Our teachers and families are supporting us.” She smiled sadly. “What works?”

“Teamwork!” the present Yuuei students all shouted.

Melissa flinched at the sudden noise. It was not helped by the sudden arrival of a large shadow across their table and an oppressive heat behind her.

“We didn’t mean to startle you, miss,” Todoroki said from beside his father.

Izuku chuckled. “Sorry. It’s a, um, a remembrance thing. Kind of a verbal memorial.” He stood and greeted Todoroki with a kiss on the cheek.

Endeavor suppressed a sigh or a growl, Izuku couldn’t be sure which.

He pulled Todoroki onto his lap, with his arms wrapped around his waist. “Have you two eaten yet? You should join us. We’re sharing a side of fries.”

“Have some discretion.”

“I’m on vacation,” Izuku whined light-heartedly.

The teens sputtered with laughter.

“Midoriya!” Yaoyorozu admonished. “If PDA makes Todoroki’s father uncomfortable, we should respect that.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Izuku let go of Todoroki. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Todoroki-san.”

Endeavor glared at him as Todoroki remained on his lap.

“So,” Kaminari said to Melissa, “See anything you like?”

“Um…”

“On the menu, pretty lady,” he prompted smoothly. He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and held his chin with his index finger and thumb extended.

Jiro practically growled.

Izuku laughed. “Tsundere. You can’t be jealous if you haven’t staked a claim.”

“I’m not!” she snapped. “He’s just being so cringy it’s painful.”

“I think he was just trying to defuse the tension. Not everyone is immune to my old man’s severe nature.”

“I think it’s cute, how much Shoto’s boyfriend loves him,” a young woman said, stepping out from behind Endeavor. She had white hair and worried grey eyes. Despite her looking almost nothing like Endeavor, Izuku guessed she was Todoroki’s older sister.

Izuku took the opportunity to stand back up fluidly, settle Todoroki on his feet, and extend his hand. “Hello, I’m Izuku Midoriya, and you must be Fuyumi.”

“Awe,” she cooed as she shook his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet the boy who stole my littlest brother’s heart.”

Izuku buried his face in Todoroki’s back.

“Wow, Midoriya,” Kaminari said, “you stayed smooth for a whole ten seconds, there. That’s gotta be a personal best.”

“I will not take shade from the guy too cowardly to ask Jiro out.”

“Hey!”

“Tsk.”

“Fine. Fine.” Kaminari turned toward Jiro. “Will you go to dinner with me tomorrow?”

“I, uh,” she blushed, “yeah.”

“Cool. I’ll take you someplace nice.” He turned toward Endeavor and swallowed. “Uh, so, will you three be joining them?” he tapped his ticket book with his pen.

He glared at the group. Kaminari and the girls wilted a bit under the weight of his gaze. Todoroki glared back and Izuku lifted his head and had the audacity to give the man puppy-dog eyes. Endeavor sighed. “Yes.”

Todoroki grabbed a nearby chair for his sister, and Izuku slid her his menu. Todoroki sat on Izuku’s lap again and was delighted when Fuyumi told him they had cold soba.

Izuku checked out a bit at that point to listen to the results of Yagi’s medical scan.

“I don’t get it, Toshi. Why are your quirk levels going down so dramatically?” Shield asked. His voice was full of concern. “I know you were seriously injured by All for One, but to suddenly get these numbers is absurd. What in the world happened to you?” 

Yagi coughed. Izuku faintly hoped he’d confess to his lifelong friend. “I suppose if you’re a hero for a long time, your body starts to fall apart,” he replied, not exactly lying.

Izuku rested his head against Todoroki.

“At this rate, the symbol of peace will disappear.”

“Is that such a bad thing, though? I know I’ve done a lot of good, but it’s time for a new peace.” Izuku could hear the wistful smile in his voice as he continued, “That boy I brought with me is going to be the greatest hero. He can already do things I never could.”

“Come on what if –”

“Dave,” Yagi cut in firmly. “I’m retiring. At the upcoming billboard charts.”

“You can’t! You’re the only reason Japan has a six percent crime rate!”

Yagi chuckled. “I appreciate your vote of confidence, but if that is true I fucked up worse than I thought!”

“What?”

“If I’m the only reason for the lower crime rate, what happens when I die?” Yagi paused. “Crime goes back up, possibly higher than it was before.”

“Toshi…” Shield pleaded.

“I’m keeping my license in case of an emergency, and to better facilitate teaching at Yuuei, but I’ve thought long and hard about this decision.” Yagi sighed. “I should have told you sooner. There’s no treatment, no cure for what’s happening to my quirk. I’m fine with this. Besides, according to Nighteye, I’ll be, uh, dead in the next year or so anyway.”

“No. I won’t allow it. I can fix this. Toshi, please.”

“It will be alright.”

Izuku sat stunned. He knew Yagi was dying, but to lose him so soon. He didn’t realize that tears were streaming down his face until Endeavor pulled the communicator out of his ear.

“Spying?” Endeavor put the speaker to his ear. “Oh. Him.” He looked at the teary-eyed child with something approaching compassion. “His retirement?”

Izuku nodded.

“At least he’s still teaching,” he said in a vaguely consolatory way.

Izuku nodded again, struggling to control his breath.

“Why would you spy on Uuncle Might?” Melissa asked harshly.

Endeavor snorted. “How else is he going to test out his new support gear and train himself to split his attention?” After a beat he added, “You do need to work on that, I mistook your silence as jetlag catching up to you, but in hindsight, it’s obvious when you stopped paying attention.”

“Yeah,” he replied wetly. “Aizawa-sensei would be so disappointed.”

Endeavor nodded, satisfied that Izuku was learning from his mistake. He handed the boy back his communicator. Izuku stuffed it back in its pouch.

“I can’t believe …” the table was a hushed whirl of whispers around him. The others were discreet enough to not make a scene, although Melissa was still a little cold to him.

 

Before splitting up, they agreed to meet in lobby seven of the main tower at six thirty for the reception. Melissa had opted to show the girls around and Izuku went with the Todorokis. Endeavor was surprisingly warm to his children. He let them decide where to go and what to see next.

The music hall, a robotics demo that was basically a short ballet, and a seminar on state-of-the-art building materials were Fuyumi’s choices. Shoto picked the hanging Ferris wheel, the International Heroics Museum, and the Villain Attack Course.

Izuku stood at the bottom of the four-story mountain they had created for the event. He had to disable six robots spread out over the course at random as fast as possible.

“What is his quirk anyway?” Endeavor asked, standing by the railing.

“It’s registered as rapid healing,” Shoto replied.

His father quirked an eyebrow at his choice of phrasing.

“Ready! Go!” the hostess shouted as the start buzzer sounded.

Izuku pulled up One for All and leaped towards the closest bot he could see. Rather than bothering with a real punch or kick, he landed on top of it and let the force of his next jump do the work. It shattered into pieces. These were weaker than Yuuei’s robots. He sailed from bot to bot with a manic grin on his face; not a motion was waisted.

“Sixteen seconds! An incredible run for our new top time on the leader board!”

“Pew! That was fun!” he shouted up to Shoto as he walked back to the entrance.

“Healing, huh?”

“That’s what it’s registered as.” Shoto hopped down into the starting ring.

“Okay! The course has been reset, let’s see how our next challenger copes with that blinding speed. Ready? Go!”

Todoroki knelt and engulfed the mountain in ice.

The hostess shrieked. “This is insane! Fourteen seconds!”

“Looks like I’m buying breakfast,” Izuku said as Shoto walked out with him.

“I didn’t know we had a bet going.”

“I’m just using it as an excuse.” He kissed Shoto on the lips.

“What was that for?”

“I’m capable of discretion,” he kissed him again, “if I want to be.”

 

Izuku was a little late when he ran into the lobby. Luckily, only Shoto, Endeavor, and Fuyumi were there. “Sorry, you guys!”

Fuyumi was wearing an ice-blue empire-waisted dress with a layered tulle skirt. She looked like a princess. Next to her, Shoto looked dashing in his white suit, there was only one flaw with his outfit, as far as Izuku could see.

“Here, Shoto, I brought you a tie.” He held the four navy blue and silver ties Kurogiri had sent with him.

“Thanks.” Todoroki quickly selected one woven with camellias for Izuku, and another with Japanese primrose for himself. The other two had apricot blossoms and delicate violets. He tied Izuku’s tie for him, knowing how ridiculous his school tie always looked.

Endeavor scoffed as the next few teens arrived. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t on purpose.”

“Matching?” Izuku asked cheekily. “Yeah, I asked what he’d be wearing.”

“The ties.”

“Well, they should match, too,” he replied a bit confused.

“Hanakotoba,” Endeavor sneered.

Fuyumi looked at him in shock. “Flower language? Oh, the camellias mean love, humility, and discretion. Primrose is for long-lasting love. Apricot blossoms are faithfulness, pure heart, and elegance while violets are sincerity, love, and bliss. All very romantic options, but Dad, I doubt a fifteen-year-old knew that.”

“Hrumph.” He crossed his arms.

A fifteen-year-old did not know that, but Kurogiri might have. Izuku suppressed a cheeky grin.

Behind Izuku, the girls arrived. Uraraka was in a pink scoop-neck dress and pearls. Yaoyorozu was in a beautifully draped, green Grecian-inspired dress. Jiro was practically hiding behind her in a fun, short magenta, and purple number, with her jacket over it.

“Apologies for the tardiness, Jiro’s feeling shy.”

“This is fancier than anything I’ve ever worn before. It feels like a costume.”

Then Melissa arrived with Kaminari, who was still wearing his waiter’s uniform. Her dress had a deep blue bodice and a white skirt.

“Oh good! I thought I was going to miss you guys! Let’s get downstairs to the party.”

“Here,” Todoroki said, pulling one of the ties out of Izuku’s pocket and tossing it to Kaminari. “Now you’ll look just as dashing as the rest of us.”

“Thanks, guys!”

Jiro smiled at him. “And I thought you’d look like event staff the whole night, amazing upgrade.”

“Me? You look so awesome! Like a punk rock princess.”

She blushed and gave a small cough into her fist. “Anyway, thanks again for giving him a ticket, Melissa.”

“It’s fine, I had extra, and well, I could hardly exclude your boyfriend, now could I?”

Suddenly the lights went out. The dim emergency lights came on. “This is an announcement from the I-island security system. We have received a report that an explosive device was discovered somewhere on the I-expo grounds. I-island will now be in high alert mode. Your safety is our top priority. Residents and tourists should return to their lodgings and stay inside; if that is not a possibility please find the nearest emergency center. Anyone remaining on the streets after ten minutes will be in violation of the law. Please clear out of public areas. As a precautionary measure, most of the main island buildings will now be sealed off. I repeat…”

“Fuck,” Endeavor said. The hero students began taking stock of the situation. “Cell phones?”

“No signal,” several of the kids responded.

“The elevator’s not working either,” Jiro confirmed.

“It’s strange that the system would go on high alert,” Melissa said. “That’s not the protocol whenever explosives are discovered.”

“Midoriya,” Endeavor asked, in a tone he’d never addressed Izuku with before. It was firm and commanding, but not harsh. “Do you have your communicators on you?”

“Yeah, I told All Might he could use them to contact me if we got separated, so I couldn’t leave them out.”

“Good. You know how to work them, get ears on the reception.”

“Yes sir.” Izuku turned his receiver on. “I could also relay any message you have.”

“Just listen for now.”

Nodding, Izuku relayed what he heard. “There are multiple villains. Someone was struck. I can’t make out what’s being said, it’s too far away. Jiro, how close would you need to be?”

“No more than a floor away, or I’ll have the same issues.”

“Waste of time. Ask All Might if he can talk.”

Turning on his transmitter, Izuku asked, “All Might, I’m with Endeavour, can you tell us the situation?”

“Some villains have taken control of the tower. They have control of the security system and have taken the civilians hostage. As well as the heroes here. Get away from here as soon as you can.”

“How many?”

“Izuku!”

“How many?”

“Nine in here including the leader. Wait, he just sent two guards out with Dave, and his assistant Sam. Seven. Get out of here.”

Izuku held up nine fingers, then seven.

“Not an overly large force,” Endeavor murmured. Aloud he said, “Fuyumi, find a broom closet or something to hide in with Melissa. Students, as a licensed pro hero I authorize you to use your quirks in self-defense and the defense of others.”

“By herself?” Todoroki asked.

“I can handle myself,” she replied. “Dad taught me the basics when I … before,” she ended sadly. “I’ll be fine Shoto.”

“It’s not going to be that easy!” Melissa cut in. “The security system is on the same level as Tartarus.”

“It’s never easy,” Endeavor huffed.

“I know where the security system is. It’s on the top floor of this tower.”

“Easy enough then.”

“Do you know how to reset the system?”

“No, but you can walk me through it when I get there.”

“So you’ll take me with –”

Endeavor smirked. “Yaoyorozu, was it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Your quirk is some kind of creation?”

“Yes.”

“Can you replicate Midoriya’s communicators?”

“Yes sir!” She helped Izuku pass out his remaining four sets and produced four additional sets (increasing the thermal resistance for the two for Shoto and Endeavour) while Izuku explained how they worked.

“Not bad, tell your support friend I might order some.” He headed for the emergency stairs. “Let’s go!”

Chapter 64: Tower Defense

“You taught Fuyumi self-defense,” Shoto asked as they ran up the stairs.

“I don’t want to talk about this now.”

“It’s two hundred floors,” he pressed, “we have to do something to pass the time.”

“Smash or pass?” Izuku suggested.

“Wed, bed, behead?” Kaminari said.

“Of course, I trained your sister in basic self-defense. I stopped when…” Endeavor paused. He sighed. “Toya. I couldn’t deny him something she was getting. I switched them all to tutors. Natsuo wanted to quit, but I couldn’t let my children be easy targets. Now can we drop this?”

“Yeah.” Shoto added, “Sorry.”

“Your curiosity is understandable, but there is a time and place.”

They were silent after that for ten floors.

“What are the rules class C uses for Pass or Smash?” Jiro asked, panting.

“Oh, uh. It’s ‘Plus Ultra All Might Addition Pass or Smash’.” He stammered a bit when he heard All Might’s awkward coughing fit. “The rules are easy enough: anyone participating is fair game, teachers and other familiar adults are also fair game, um, after all the scandal is the thrill of it. Smashes are ranked using, well, All Might’s Smashes. Someone on the minority side defends their position, helping us learn to articulate the qualities we are, or are not, attracted to. And there is a, a third secret faction: ‘hostile,’ or actual smash like you think you could take them in a fight. To encourage dissenters to speak up.”

“You needed to break up the ‘would fuck’ faction?” Endeavor asked. He didn’t seem winded at all, unlike the teens.

“Er, it made the game more interesting to hear how some people thought they, or their quirk, would stack against someone.”

“And making the minority group defend their answer?”

“Let’s the majority hear a differing opinion without endless repetitions of agreement.”

“Fine,” the pro said, “if you can play and keep up, by all means.”

“So…” Kaminari said. Between gasps, he added, “I’m kinda grateful for Aizawa-sensei putting us through all that endurance training now.”

“As good as any person to start with,” Izuku said with a grin.

“I didn’t mean! I mean come on, not Aizawa-sensei!”

Uraraka squawked as well, clearly flustered by the idea.

“It’s not like you guys are gonna go for All Might or Endeavor, when they can both hear us,” Izuku shot back.

“He did say the scandal was the thrill of it,” Yaoyorozu pointed out. Her breathing was only slightly labored, but she was beginning to sweat. “Maybe a different game?”

“Is this really appropriate?” Melissa asked in a whisper.

“No,” Izuku answered flatly. “But whatever distracts from the inevitable villain-boss fight, you know?”

“How about you explain why you thought it was okay to spy on Uncle Might?”

“He literally gave me the communicator, Melissa. I know how they work. Young Bakugo and Shinso use the same ones.” All Might’s voice was hushed and strained.

Izuku ran just a little faster. He wished he could just activate One for All and be done with it. He could feel the quirk just below the surface, like a caged animal, just looking for a way out.

“Midoriya,” Endeavor said in a warning tone.

He exhaled slowly, matching the flame hero’s pace. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.  Speed is an important factor. You just have to learn to control it.”

The pair skidded to a stop as their path was blocked by a large, solid blockade.

“Should we break through it?” Shoto asked from behind them.

Endeavor was shaking his head even as Melissa said, “If you did that, I’m sure the security system would alert the villains that someone’s in here.”

“Do you know how to bypass it?”

“Could we use the door?” Kaminari asked, pointing to the heavy security door on the landing. “Or would that alert them too?”

“That would alert them, too,” Melissa confirmed.

“We’re stuck,” Jiro complained.

“Only until we know that giving away our position can’t be helped,” Endeavor said. “Well, girl?”

“I-I’m not sure.”

“There’s no panel of any kind on the barrier. The security door… just an integrated scanner for IDs or pass cards.” Izuku shook his head. He eyed the wall next to the door. “…unless we could just go through the wall without setting off the system.”

Endeavor scoffed. “That would be a very big hole in their system.”

“I don’t think you could get through the walls, they’re high-density steel, ballistic fiberglass, and Kevlar.”

“Do they have security sensors in them?” Endeavor asked.

“Yes, a mesh on the backs of the steel panels.”

“The bolt holes are wielded,” Izuku murmured, running his finger along the seam.

“Heat sensor?”

“Goes off if there is a change of more than one degree per minute, or the temperature exceeds eighty-eight degrees Celsius.”

Izuku took a breath and activated One for All. He dug the steel cap out of its hole, exposing the bolt. He moved to the next one, ignoring the scraps and scratches on his fingers.

Endeavor examined the bolt. “I can melt this if you can keep the surrounding temperature down, Shoto.”

“I think I can.” He touched his ear. “Melissa, does the temperature sensor work both ways?”

“Yes, the low end is one degree.”

“I should be able to keep the ambient temperature steady.”

Concentrating, Endeavor produced a small hot flame at the tip of his finger. Shoto cupped his hand around it. He eased the temperature down slowly. Water dripped from his hand.

“Damn it.”

“I think I can make an oscillating saw and a metal cutting blade,” Yaoyorozu said.

“Good,” Endeavor replied, adjusting his flame. “There are four bolts per panel.”

“Right.” She began producing the necessary equipment. “Kaminari? Can you power this?”

“Yeah, no problem, Yaomomo.” He put the short cord in his mouth. “Ready when you are.”

“I have to get the ice colder but produce less of it. Hang on.” Shoto stepped away to gather himself. He watched as Izuku started to carefully turn the bottom bolt by hand. “Air temperature and dew point have to be within two-point-five degrees Celsius to make fog.” He heated his left hand. When he put his right hand next to it he produced a small bank of fog. “A layer of hot air on top. Oh!”

He stepped back over to his father and held his right hand flat underneath.

“That’s a neat trick.”

“I learned it on my internship.”

They made short work of their bolt, without triggering the sensor. The water vapor rose as fog around Endeavour’s hand, keeping it cool. While they took care of the final bolt, Izuku sacrificed the fourth tie to make a strap for Yaoyorozu’s oscillating saw.

“It’s best to conserve your resources.”

“Thank you.”

Once they were through the bolts, they slid the steel plate aside, careful to not pull it out too far and break the wires connecting it to the system. Yaoyorozu produced a diamond grit blade and cut the middle of the inner wall out; which Uraraka floated out of the way. It was a simple matter to change back to the metal cutting blade to remove the bolts on the inside of the opposite steel panel.

Yaoyorozu smiled warmly at Izuku. “This tie makes a surprisingly comfortable strap.”

“Good to know.”

“It’s a shame to ruin it.”

“Well, Kuu knew there was a chance something would happen when he let me borrow them,” Izuku said. There was a nagging sensation in the back of his mind, but he was too busy running down the hall to pay it any heed.

“Are there any other emergency stairs?”

“Yes,” Melissa answered, “on the other side of the tower.”

It did not take the athletic group long to circumnavigate half the tower. They proceeded through the wall, in the hopes that the stairs would be open, only to be met with an identical blockade.

“Damn.”

“Do we just go through it?”

“No, this is the eightieth floor,” Izuku said. “The plant factory.”

“It’s twenty stories tall,” Endeavor said, catching on.

Before they could say anything else, All Might cut in, “You’ve been spotted. They’re going to try trapping you in the plant factory. The leader sent two men after you.”

“Good,” Endeavor said, grinning. “That means there aren’t enough of them to patrol or deploy from the security center. We’re looking at between ten and fifteen terrorists, some of which may not be trained combatants. So be careful.”

“Why is that a reason to be careful?” Melissa asked.

“People who aren’t trained to fight tend to compensate with weapons they also aren’t trained with,” Fuyumi replied.

“No need for stealth now.” Endeavor grinned. He blasted the blockade with a powerful gout of fire. The fire suppression system went off covering them in foam as the thick steel door melted. “Ick.” He brushed it off his face and shoulders.

“An excellent tactic, given the circumstances,” Izuku commented, shaking himself clean.

“What do you mean,” Shoto asked the barest hint of annoyance in his voice.

“When there’s a fire the elevators stop working. They’re going to have to climb.”

“Oh!”

"It's a shame we can't go into the plant factory," Izuku murmured. "It would save us up to twenty floors, depending on where they have catwalks and entrances."

"Climbing is a lot harder than running," Endeavor pointed out.

"Huh?" Izuku wasn't used to people responding to his musings positively. Usually, the best he got was his mother ignoring his 'creepy' rambling, and then Tomura had taken to making him repeat everything, but for someone to hear him and keep up... that was new. He wasn't sure if he liked it, he didn't like that it was Endeavor of all people. Still, while his mind churned the various problems it had to chew on, he replied, "Uraraka could float us up."

"Then it's worth a detour." The pro dipped into the hallway, using his quirk to bypass the security door.

In the circular hall, they could hear the bulkheads slamming shut in either direction; whether this was the villains' doing or the result of the fire suppression system, they couldn't tell. Shoto blocked the nearest bulkhead with a jagged lance of ice, and the teams scaled it easily. Endeavor blasted through the door to the plant factory.

The garden would have been breathtaking if not for the eighty floors they had already traversed. The lush greens of the tropical plants and soft, soothing sounds of the water features contrasted harshly with the stark sterile white concrete and industrial steel. The sheer scale of the ten-story vertical garden at the center was comparable to looking at the night sky and realizing how insignificant you were. Meandering paths and sweeping curves invited exploration, but Izuku only had eyes for the catwalk that spread out from the elevator shaft. It was only twelve stories up, but it would save them two minutes to skip those floors.

"Give us a lift?"

"On it." Uraraka tapped each of her classmates in turn as they stood directly under the catwalk.

Kaminari, Shoto and Izuku were sent up first. They held on tightly as they maneuvered over the steel walkway. Uraraka released her quirk and sent the other girls and Endeavor up. the boys helped guide them into position. Finally, she joined them.

"I'm going to throw up," she complained, as her feet touched down.

"No time for that," Izuku said, as Shoto removed the door back into the hallway. In no time the team was running up the stairs again, nothing could stop them now. As they rounded corner after corner in the stairwell the only thing that showed their progress was the increasing number painted on the wall of every floor. ninety-one, ninety-five, one-hundred. And then, the security bots arrived.

The three-foot-tall, trash-can looking bots swarmed up and down the stairs at them. Shoto filled the stairwell behind them with ice. Kaminari rushed ahead and blasted them with two-thousand volts. Two or three of the bots fried before they closed their outer covering. Luckily, they were only trying to restrain them. Kaminari was wrapped up in cables.

“Get him out of there,” Endeavor growled.

As he surged forward into the teeming mass, one lashed a cable around Izuku’s arm and quickly found itself being used as a bludgeon. Using One for All, he ripped the cables away from Kaminari. Just as they bounced out of the throng, Endeavor blasted the bots with his fire. Any of the bots that were open were melted. The ones with closed exteriors were scorched and smoking, but the damage was cosmetic.

Behind them, there was the sound of a whip and shattering ice.

“I’ll take care of these two, you kids keep going!” Endeavor shouted.

“Right!” they chorused.

Izuku led the charge, slamming into security bots to clear a path for the others. Most of the force focused on Endeavor as he was a pro hero; gradually they found fewer bots in their path. Yaoyorozu created a tossable version of Hatsume’s hardening compound and stuck the bots in place. Shoto froze every flight of stairs they ran up to block any missed or recovered enemies. Uraraka sent them flying, then plummeting into the fray. Jiro and Kaminari worked together to quickly disable any partially damaged bots left in their wake. Izuku pulled ahead of them, only stopping to let them catch up when someone shouted at him or he realized he couldn’t hear them except on the comms.

On the one-hundred-and-thirty-eighth floor, there was another barrier.

“That’s a weird place for a barricade,” he said as he activated One for All and smashed it. “That’s better.”

“Holy shit, Midoriya!” Kaminari exclaimed. “Since when can you do that?”

Izuku shrugged. “I work out a lot.”

“That’s such a bullshit answer, but I don’t think this is the place to discuss it,” Jiro said.

They continued running and fighting. One-hundred-and-forty, one-hundred-and-fifty…

“The elevator is back on,” All Might said. “The leader is coming your way.”

…one-hundred-and-sixty, one-hundred-and-sixty-eight, one-hundred-and-seventy-five…

“Shoto, I’m heading to the other set of stairs, your ice is slowing me down.”

…one-hundred-and-eighty, one-hundred-and-eighty-three. Uraraka, Kaminari, Jiro, Shoto, and Yaoyorozu were gasping for air. Yaoyorozu in particular looked noticeably thinner and as flat-chested as Jiro.

“We’re slowing you down,” Shoto huffed.

“I need a break,” Jiro wheezed.

Izuku stopped with them. He looked up the stairs. They were so close. “Then we rest.”

“No,” Kaminari said. “You go on ahead, we’ll catch up.”

He gave one last look at the group and then nodded. Izuku shot up the stairs at full speed; the steel plates on the walls and the stairs themselves shredded in his wake. He could have bypassed the goon on the one-hundred-and-ninety-eighth floor, but his friends were still recovering. A single super-powered punch sent him through the floor and onto the stairs below. Izuku winced as he registered the bent and torn rebar. He stopped to throw up as the smell of blood and concrete dust hit his nose.

He wiped his mouth as he hopped down to check on the guy. Finding the blood to be minimal, he tore the man’s own shirt and pants to bind his wounds. The head injury was the most concerning, but the skull wasn’t broken, just fractured. One of the man’s arms was sheathed in sharp metal plating. Izuku paid it, and the blood soaked into his pants and vest, little mind as he set bones and stanched bleeding.

Izuku put his finger to his ear to contact the others, a feature of his ‘master’ comm. “One down on floor one-nine-eight, south stairs. Some kind of blade-producing quirk.”

“Roger that,” Endeavor replied, almost automatically.

After making certain he was restrained, Izuku continued up the last two flights of stairs. He barely heard the shout of “They’re here,” before the rattle of automatic gunfire. He jumped to the ceiling and sprung down towards them. He did his best to modulate the force as he struck the pair simultaneously. They crumpled to the floor. Izuku tore their guns apart and used the straps to tie them up.

“Two down on floor two hundred, south stairs. Sub-machine guns, dismantled, no clue on their quirks.”

“Roger that.”

Climbing the final flight of stairs much slower, Izuku was greeted with a maze of dark identical corridors. “Melissa, where’s the control room?”

“In front of the central elevator.”

“Roger.” He headed toward the center of the building. He dashed silently down the hall. At one corner that looked identical to all the others, he saw a large vault style door setting wide open. Inside were two figures, one Izuku recognized are David Shield, the other he assumed was his assistant, Sam. He fit the build. Izuku crept closer, confirming that it was Shield and Sam working at the computer.

When he reached the door, he heard Shield proclaim, “I’ve unlocked it! Block eleven forty-seven.”

“Wonderful!” Sam left the consul and ran up the stairs to the storage lockers. “It’s opening! You did it professor; it’s all here. It’s perfect.”

“Finally, I’ve gotten it back. All my research and they took my device away from me. Now it’s mine.” Shield clenched his fists and trembled as he spoke.

“Just like we planned,” Sam said. “And it looks like the villains are holding things down.”

“Thank you; I couldn’t have done any of this without your help, Sam.” Shield joined him at the top of the steps and took the case.

Izuku slipped into the vault. He was annoyed that this was apparently an inside job, but… “Why?”

The pair’s attention whipped to him. “Midoriya!”

“I just ran up two hundred flights of stairs, got shot at, and nearly stabbed. And for what?”

“You don’t understand, this device can amplify someone’s quirk.”

Izuku’s shoulders slumped. “Idiot. You made Electronic Trigger. He told you there’s no way to fix it!”

“It can magnify his quirk without damaging his body or brain.”

“You can’t magnify what’s not there.” Izuku shook his head. “Enough! Put it back. Reset the security system. Let the hostages go.”

“What do you mean? The villains are fake. It should be an act.”

“Of course, it was a performance,” a confident voice came from behind him. “But the real act was pretending we weren’t criminals.” As fast as Izuku was, this villain was faster with his quirk. He touched the vault door and the railing sprung to life. It bent and twisted, sparking as it ground against itself. It impacted Izuku as he surged forward, wrapping around him and slamming him into the far wall. “You’d be smart not to resist. Sam, hand it over.”

“Right.” Sam took the case back and jogged down to the villain. “Uh, here you go.”

“Sam? This was your plan? You were going to hand it over all along?”

“You’re the one who tricked me, professor. I’ve been your assistant for all these years and you let them take our work. We could have had fame and fortune. But no. I deserve more. I need to be rewarded. Otherwise, my entire career was a complete waste of time.”

Izuku struggled against the railing. Shield’s emotions shifted; his shoulders sagging, the scowl melting from his face.

“Here’s the payment I promised you,” the villain said, raising his gun. The shot took all three of them by surprise. Sam fell backward. Blood and brain splattered across the floor.

Shield stood frozen at the top of the stairs. Bile rose in Izuku’s throat. Triton, Rose Red, and Steel Fang’s dead eyes stared at him from Sam’s slack and lifeless face. The villain turned his gun on Shield.

“The control room is empty,” he heard Shoto’s voice over the comm.

It snapped him back to reality. Izuku struggled against his bonds as he heard Melissa walking the others through rebooting the system. It would be back up shortly.

“Come now, professor. No matter what your reasons were, you’ve dirtied your hands now. Whether we’re real villains or actors is irrelevant. You planned and committed an actual crime here. You’re exactly the same as we are. You can no longer remain a respected scientist, or continue your research without shame. Your life is forever tainted by the darkness of villainy.” He laughed as his crony mounted the stairs.

Anger boiled up inside Izuku as he braced his limbs against the wall and shoved. Shield could be saved. He could be saved. Tomura could be saved. “I’m going to save EVERYONE!” Izuku sparked with the green energy of One for All as he flew across the room.

“We did it!” Kaminari cheered.

“Good work!” Endeavor and All Might said at the same time.

The villain raised a wall of steel out of the floor, just as Izuku slammed into it. He bound over the obstacle and down to the villain. Shield’s hands were being restrained by the villain’s quirk, and he had a bruise on his forehead from the gun butt. He staggered down the stairs, as three pillars of steel plates slammed into Izuku.

“It just landed.”

“Good, let’s go.” The pair ran out, the leader carrying Shield.

Izuku wrapped his shadow around the pillars and squeezed. He recalled Kimura’s tentacles and Hayakazu’s glass cutting Tomura’s cheek. The metal warped and bent under the pressure. He took a deep breath to test his ribs before standing and limping after them.

On the roof, a military helicopter was just starting up. Izuku sent Shadow Bind forward in the darkness. It wrapped around the blades unnoticed. He ran at them, bounding over and around the pillars sent to crush him. The villain grinned as he pointed his gun at Shield again. Izuku stopped.

“Gee, being a hero seems really inconvenient. I didn’t ev–” his monologue was cut off as Izuku crushed the blades. “What? How?” He glanced around for more combatants as the boy surged towards him at impossible speed.

Bypassing the villain, he grabbed Shield and hopped to the elevator with him. The doors opened behind them. Suddenly, there were more people; more heroes were spilling onto the roof. In desperation, the villain grabbed the case, still by his side. He popped it open and slid on the quirk enhancer.

Endeavour shouted at the teens to get Shield to safety. Izuku dashed toward the helicopter again. On the other side of the roof, All Might touched down, proclaiming, “Everything is fine now. Why? Because I am here!”

A pillar of steel slammed into him, flinging All Might from the roof. The villain began glowing and the pillars became smooth, flexible tendrils of steel and cable. Chunks of the building began floating and forming large cubes.

Endeavor surged toward the villain, while the boy continued passed him to the edge of the roof. The two-hundred-storey drop would kill even All Might. Izuku’s vision swam; he couldn’t hear the fight behind him. Shadow Bind clung to the roof as he dove off; arms tight against him to maximize speed. He caught up with All Might and grabbed his wrist. 

“I hope you have a plan!”

Izuku pushed down the urge to cocoon them both and hope that Shadow Bind could hold them, or slow their descent. He used One for All to fling the hero up, back onto the roof. Pushing with his shadow to ensure the hero made it; he started to consider his own fall, and options to stop. He grabbed desperately at the tower again and pulled with his shadow. He was right; there was only so much stretch in his shadow. 

Looking up, as his free fall slowed and finally stopped he saw All Might peering over the edge. He disappeared as soon as Izuku sprung off the tower onto one of the many floating cubes. Izuku landed next to him and crumbled into a heap.

“Hey, hey, hey. We’re not out of the woods yet.” All Might lifted him by his vest. 

“Sorry,” Izuku replied, trying to get his legs to support him. “Shit!” He pushed All Might out of the way of an incoming steel tentacle. That seemed to jolt him back to reality. 

The pair charged towards the twisted and melting mass that was surrounding Endeavor and the villain. They smashed cubes and pillars in tandem. The villain had Endeavor by the throat, gripping with impossible strength. 

“You’ll always be second best. You’ll never be better than him!”

“He has multiple quirks!” All Might exclaimed. “All for One is responsible for this.”

“Yes,” the villain roared, turning his attention to them. He casually released the flame hero. “While we were planning this little plot, I received an intriguing phone call from the man himself. He said he wanted to work with me, to help. When I asked him why he was happy to expla-”

All Might slammed into him, while Endeavor kept the writhing steel tentacles off him. Izuku used the distraction to go for the quirk enhancer. It shattered as he snatched it off the villain’s head.

The roof was silent for a few heartbeats. Then the steel tentacles and cubes began to fall. All Might grabbed Izuku and Endeavor dragged the limp villain into the tower.

“The roof should hold.”

“Wow, that is a lot of damage. Oh, hey, we can take it from here, kids.”  He could hear a group of heroes in the halls. They had clearly run into the other teens.

Izuku was glad they were safe. He collapsed again, this time in All Might’s arms.

Chapter 65: Three Heroes

Notes:

I updated the end of this chapter. Hopefully, that makes one thing I've vaguely hinted at once or twice before clear now.

Izuku struggled to get his heart rate under control. Elevator control panel, I-island security insignia, floor indicator, cracked digital display screen, small lights. He wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or throw up again. All Might’s warm hand on his shoulder, drying blood sticking to his skin, smooth metal wall, embroidered tie. His legs were numb. Hum of the descending elevator, All Might’s labored breathing, radio chatter. He couldn’t stop shaking. Blood, concrete dust. He was numb. Vomit.

“Izuku?” All Might’s voice was soft and concerned.

He wanted to answer, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work. Not like when he was healing with too few calories to fuel it, his brain wasn’t sending the signal to his mouth. It was odd. Izuku tried to focus on his breathing. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled fully. Slow, purposeful breaths. He listened to his heart beating in his chest.

It was just beginning to slow when he heard All Might say, “No, don’t.”

Izuku wasn’t sure what happened, but when he opened his eyes, he was holding one of the security personnel against the wall of the elevator. He blinked a couple of times and released the man’s windpipe. “Sorry.”

All Might gingerly placed his hand back on Izuku’s shoulder and tugged the boy into his side. “We still need to work on that.”

“I think I killed somebody.”

“Nope. Even the guy you put through the stairs is going to make it.”

“That’s good. I’m not ready to kill someone.”

All Might squeezed his shoulder. “No one ever is.”

It was quiet in the elevator for the rest of the trip. It seemed to Izuku, like they had been running for hours, but when All Might ushered him into the reception hall the wall clock said it was eight fifteen. He flinched when one of the security officers asked if All Might could step away from him to give a statement.

“It’s alright. I’ll be just over there.”

“I can watch him, Toshi.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Shield said. “It’s okay. Right, Midoriya?”

Upon hearing his name, he turned to Shield. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

All Might guided him next to Shield and draped the other man’s arm over his shoulders. “Okay, there we go. Izuku? Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. We’re on the ground floor, right?”

“Yes, we are.”

“Okay.” Izuku nodded and gripped Shield’s wrist. “We’ll be fine.”

All Might stepped away. It was a few tense minutes, or possibly just seconds as time was being inconsistent for him, before Shield asked, “So, what are you going to tell them?”

Izuku looked up at him. He stared at Shield unblinking as his mind worked at comprehending the question. “It would kill him. I –” He shook his head. His vision swam. “I could never do that to him. You and Melissa are the only family he has.”

“He’s got you.”

“No,” Izuku said sadly. He felt numb and queasy, but he had calmed down. His heart rate was normal and his breathing was even. He felt floaty, and occasionally like he was falling, but his shadow would grip the floor reflexively, making him feel more secure.

The click of the security officer’s shoes as he approached them was deafening. “Hey, buddy,” he said softly. “Why don’t you sit down so I can ask you a few questions?”

“I’m staying with Professor Shield until All Might is done.”

“I need to talk to you alone, kid.”

“No.”

“It’s not a –”

“Do you routinely separate traumatized minors from their authorized adult guardians on I-island?” Endeavour boomed.

Izuku flinched, but so did the guard. “I, uh, it’s procedure to get everyone’s statements separately, sir.”

“You can question him right here,” Endeavor jerked Izuku to his side. “Dr. Shield, have you given a statement yet?”

Shield shook his head.

“That officer can take your statement, as soon as he’s done with his notes.”

“Ah, right. Okay.” Shield took the hint and scurried off.

“Alright, Midoriya, tell the officer what happened.”

“Okay. We got here late, the power went out and the emergency system came on. We, uh. I have these communicators,” he put his hand to his ear and turned it back on, then off again, wincing, “and I had given All Might a pair, so I could hear some of what was going on in the reception hall. We let him know what we were doing and headed up the stairs, got to the eightieth floor without any problem. There was a barrier there, but it didn’t take long to bypass it. We were spotted on the security cameras and two of the villains were sent up; Endeavor sent us ahead while he handled it.” Izuku paused to gather his thoughts. “Then the bots came. There were a lot of bots. We got to the top of the tower.” He furrowed his brow. “There were guys on floors one-ninety-eight and two hundred; a sword arm quirk and two guns.” He frowned, stumbling over his words. “Um, looking for the control room, I found where they took Shield and his assistant. I got slammed into the wall and then crushed by the leader’s quirk.” His tongue felt heavy and he wondered if he was slurring his words. “He shot … he shot Sam, took the professor to the roof. I…” He was silent for a long time. “I followed. I know the others found the control room because All Might showed up. He and Endeavor took out the villain. Sorry, I have an issue with heights. The roof is a bit fuzzy.” Izuku finished in a rush. He managed not to cling to Endeavor like a lifeline.

“About what I expected. Any questions?”

“You said the one hundred and ninety-eighth floor? Then why was he found on the one hundred and ninety-seventh floor, and what happened to the stairs?”

Izuku paled. “Is-is he going to make it?”

“Yes, but his injuries are severe.”

“I panicked and slammed him through the stairs.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I gave him first aid the best I could.” Tears welled in his eyes.

“That’s enough for now,” All Might said firmly as he approached them. “He can answer any other questions you have after he’s had a chance to rest and calm down.” He turned to Endeavor. “Thank you for stepping in.”

“Don’t coddle the boy. He’s doing fine.”

“He has anxiety.”

“He’d better get over it.”

Izuku laughed at that, a sharp humorless bark. He winced and clutched his ribs. “Fuck. Last time my healing took this long to kick in, I’d been dosed with Blush.” He closed his eyes again and tried to recall the breathing exercise that Nighteye had walked him through. “Fuck it.” He started humming old American rock songs.

“I’m going to get him back to the hotel, fed, and cleaned up. If you have to, you can send someone by in a couple of hours.”

 He was dimly aware of a medic checking him over before they left. Izuku was sure he’d pushed someone’s hands away from his vest. He did not remember the walk back to the hotel, although he recalled All Might quietly singing with him. The next thing he knew Yagi was in the bathroom with him tugging off his wet shirt.

“On the plus side, I don’t think any of the blood is yours.”

“Would it be awful if I made a joke about all the bleeding being internal because that’s where blood is supposed to be?”

“Yes, it would be.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Yagi unbuckled his belt and turned away. “I’ll get you a towel, try not to fall getting your pants off.”

“Uh, okay.” Izuku did as instructed, though he wondered why Yagi was being shy. He was handed a towel and told to wrap it around his waist.

Yagi had stripped; or rather, his suit had fallen off when he puffed down. He had another towel firmly secured to his own waist. He guided the boy into the shower. After adjusting the temperature, Yagi ran the shower wand over Izuku’s arms, shoulders, and chest. He followed with a soapy washcloth, being extra gentle over his ribs. His touch was firmer on his back and legs. He took a moment to test the flexibility of the boy’s ankles.

“I think I got all the blood off. Time for a rinse.”

The cascade of mild warm water washed over him again. When Yagi stepped back, he looked conflicted for a moment, and then he poured a generous dollop of shampoo into his hand. He worked it into Izuku’s hair; concrete dust and blood tingeing the suds brownish.

Izuku let out a voiceless moan as Yagi’s nails worked across his scalp. It was a relief that his quirk was active and healing him. Too soon, his was rinsed and Yagi shut the shower off. He wrapped Izuku in a bathrobe and removed the sopping-wet towel from his waist. He used a separate towel for Izuku’s hair.

“There we go. I’m sure you brought something to sleep in, but until your ribs are healed you can use one of mine.” An oversized shirt was slipped on him and he was guided to the bed. Yagi handed him a pair of dark grey sweats that were probably capris on him. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’m going to jump through the shower.”

Izuku nodded. He pulled the sweats on and gingerly laid down on the bed. He could hear the shower and was comforted knowing where Yagi was. He slipped slowly into a light doze. Soon he felt a weight on the other side of the bed. A warm hand brushed the hair out of his face. He rolled over, groaning as he put pressure on his ribs, and snuggled into the warm body. He buried his face in the lean chest offered to him and fell into a deep restful sleep.

 

Shoto gasped beside him when they first spotted Izuku in the full light of the reception hall. His white vest and pants were speckled with various sizes of red stains; a fine mist on the pant legs, and a large almost circular blotch on the left side of his vest. He was pale and the only thing keeping him on his feet was All Might’s strong hand on his shoulder.

“He’ll live,” Endeavor said softly. He guided his son over to Fuyumi and waved a security guard over to them. “Let’s get this over with.”  His statement was curt but professional; he did his best to include time stamps or estimates.

Shoto stood when a guard approached Midoriya and Shield. Endeavor’s eyes narrowed as he reflexively assessed the man as if he were a threat. His taser’s holster was unsecured. It wasn’t much, but it set Endeavor’s teeth on edge. After all, the villains would have needed an inside man to get them weapons and other gear.

“Fuyumi, stay with your brother while he gives his statement; I’ll see to Midoriya.”

He strode over to the trio in time to hear Midoriya say, “I’m staying with Professor Shield until All Might is done,” in a broken and weak voice; like the kid was holding back tears.

“I need to talk to you alone,” the guard snapped.

“No.”

“It’s not–”

“Do you routinely separate traumatized minors from their authorized adult guardians on I-island?” Endeavour boomed.

The guard flinched. He stuttered and sputtered out, “I, uh, it’s procedure to get everyone’s st-statements separately, sir.”

“You can question him right here,” Endeavor said. He held the man’s gaze, just daring him to defy him. He put a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder, as All Might had done, and guided him to stand beside him. “Dr. Shield, have you given a statement yet?”

Shield shook his head.

“That officer can take you statement, as soon as he’s done with his notes,” he informed him pointing him over to the man finishing up with his children.

“Well, I told Toshi, that is… Ah, right. Okay.” Shield took the hint and scurried off.

“Alright, Midoriya, tell the officer what happened,” Endeavor said encouragingly, once Shield was out of earshot.

Midoriya took a few moments to gather himself. Endeavor reached over to the guard and snapped his holster closed. The man had the decency to look sheepish.

“Uh, we arrived late. Then the lights went out. The emergency system came on.” He put his hand to his ear and winced. “I have these communicators so we could talk to All Might. He let us know what was going on, and we headed up the stairs.” As all people in shock do, he forgot things, mixed up the time line of events and repeated himself. “There were a lot of bots.” He furrowed his brow. He spoke more slowly as he fought the fog of his trauma. “There were guys on floors one-ninety-eight and two hundred; a sword arm quirk and two guns. I found where they took Shield and his assistant while looking for the control room.” Midoriya hugged himself reflexively. “I got slammed into the wall and then crushed by the leader’s quirk. He shot – he shot Sam. I followed when he took the professor to the roof.” He stopped and looked up at Endeavor pleadingly.

“You’re almost done.”

“Um, I know the others found the control room because All Might showed up. He and Endeavor took out the villain. Sorry, I have an issue with heights. The roof is a bit fuzzy,” he rushed out.

Endeavor gave him an approving nod. “About what I expected. Any questions?”

The guard nodded. “You said the one hundred and ninety-eighth floor, right? It says here he was found on the one hundred and ninety-seventh floor. And can you explain the damage to the stairs?”

Midoriya paled. “Is-is he going to make it?”

“Yes,” the guard reassured him. “His injuries are severe, but the med team has already stabilized him.”

“I panicked, I just hit him.”

“Oh.”

Tears welled in the boy’s eyes. “I gave him first aid, to, to stop the bleeding.”

“That’s enough for now,” All Might said softly as he joined the group. “He can answer any other questions you have after he’s had a chance to rest and calm down.” He nodded to Endeavor. “Thank you for stepping in.”

“Don’t coddle the boy,” Endeavor replied patting his shoulder. “He’s doing fine.”

“He has anxiety.”

Endeavor snorted, “He’d better get over it.”

Midoriya gave a harsh laugh at that, more a bark than anything else. “Last time my healing took this long to kick in, I’d been dosed with Blush,” the boy muttered.

The guard took a bewildered step back.

“I’m going to get him back to the hotel, fed, and cleaned up,” All Might said, his voice full of concern. “If you have any more questions, you can send someone by in a couple of hours.”

All Might gave the boy a once over and then bent down to pick him up. Endeavor chuckled as the boy pushed his hands away only to cling to his side.

 

“Izuku?” All Might asked as his successor swayed beneath his grip. The boy stayed silent, not even blinking.

“I’m a trained medic,” one of the two I-island security personnel accompanying them said, taking a step towards Izuku.

All Might felt him tense under his hand and only had time to say, “No, don’t,” before the man had reached out to touch Izuku. In a blink, Midoriya had the security officer pinned against the wall of the elevator by the throat.

All Might gingerly placed his hand back on Izuku’s shoulder and tugged at him lightly.

Izuku released the man and mumbled, “Sorry.”

“We still need to work on that,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

 “I think I killed somebody.”

All Might paled, his mind flashing to Dave’s assistant lying dead in the vault. “Nope,” he managed. “Even the guy you put through the stairs is going to make it.”

“That’s good,” the boy replied dully. “I’m not ready to kill someone.”

All Might squeezed his shoulder. “No one ever is.”

He was glad that the security personnel stayed on their side of the elevator for the rest of the trip down. He wished they could have gone alone, he was straining to keep up this form. As they exited the elevator, he was surprised to see that it wasn’t even nine yet. It felt much later.

“If you could step over here, we can get your statement and get you and the kid out of here.”

Izuku burrowed into his side.

“It’s alright. I’ll be just over there,” he soothed.

The guard that Izuku assaulted lost the rock, paper, scissors, and slumped off to find another interviewee.

“I can watch him, Toshi,” Dave said, standing up from where Melissa and a white haired girl were sitting.

“Are you sure?” All Might asked cautiously. “He’s still jumpy.”

“Yeah,” Shield said stepping in front of Izuku. He brought his hand up to the boy’s forearm. “It’s okay. Right, Midoriya?”

Upon hearing his name, he turned to Dave. “Oh, Professor Shield. Yeah, sure. I can keep him safe.”

All Might let Dave drape his arm over Izuku’s shoulders. “There we go, Izuku. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” When All Might turned away, the boy reached out and grabbed his arm. “We’re on the ground floor, right?”

“Yes, we are,” All Might reassured him.

Izuku nodded and let go. “We’ll be fine.”

He stepped away, glancing at the pair occasionally as he gave his statement. There wasn’t much to tell as he was restrained in the reception hall for most of it.

“Guess our ultra-high security kinda backfired on us, with that one.”

“At least Endeavor was here to pick up my slack.” He chuckled. Glancing at Midoriya again, he was almost certain he could see the boy’s shadow gripping the carpet. He shook his head. Aizawa-kun’s paranoia was contagious.

He watched as Endeavor glared at the guard from the elevator. He approached Izuku cautiously. All Might was surprised when Endeavor joined them – startling the already on edge guard – and sent Dave back to his daughter. All Might only half-paid attention to the rest of the follow-up questions. When he saw Izuku wrap his arms around himself in apparent pain, he excused himself.

“I gave him first aid, to-to stop the bleeding,” Izuku choked out. Tears welled in his eyes.

“That’s enough for now,” All Might said softly. He turned to the guard. “He can answer any other questions after he’s had a chance to rest and calm down.” Nodding to Endeavor he added, “Thank you for stepping in.”

 Endeavor scoffed. “Don’t coddle the boy.”

“He has anxiety.”

“He’d better get over it.” The ‘if he wants to be a hero’ was left blessedly unsaid.

Midoriya made a harsh noise that could charitably be described as a bark of laughter, though it lacked any mirth.

“I’m going to get him back to the hotel, fed, and cleaned up,” All Might said, as the guard took a bewildered step back.

“Last time my healing took this long to kick in, I’d been dosed with Blush,” the boy mumbled.

“If you have any more questions, you can send someone by in a couple of hours.” He tried to move Izuku’s hands to check his ribs but the boy pushed them away and wrapped his arms around All Might’s waist. He looked to the guard for assistance.

The guard shook his head and trotted off muttering, “I choose life.”

All Might relaxed as he felt more than heard Izuku humming. As they walked back to the hotel, he hummed along with him whenever he could pick out the tune. “And when I see a little temperature rise, you know I wasn't surprised, see you were smiling, oh~”

Soon enough, they were back at the hotel. All Might almost couldn’t get into their room fast enough. He just made it before puffing down involuntarily; the strain making him throw up a little blood. It dripped onto the back of Midoriya’s vest.

“Sorry. Here let’s get you cleaned up.” Yagi guided him into the bathroom. He unbuttoned Izuku’s vest and slid it off. Once he got the boy’s blood-soaked shirt off he examined his ribs. “On the plus side, I don’t think any of the blood is yours.”

“Would it be awful if I made a joke about all the bleeding being internal because that’s where blood is supposed to be?” Izuku asked drowsily.

“Yes, it would be,” Yagi said truthfully as he stepped away to grab towels. He shucked his baggy costume and secured one tightly around his waist.

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s forgivable. Can you finish getting undressed?” Yagi watched him fumble and nearly fall over trying to undo his own belt. “I got you a towel. Can you tie it around your waist? I don’t want you sleeping covered in blood. You said it makes you nauseous.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” Mechanically, Izuku did as instructed.

After that, Yagi steadied him as he slipped his pants off. He guided the boy into the shower and adjusted the temperature to just above lukewarm. He wet Izuku’s hair, arms, and chest. Starting from the top down he used the whole bottle of scentless three-in-one the hotel had stocked. Yagi was ginger with the washcloth over his ribs, but he was glad that the bruising there was starting to shift colors. As he was washing Izuku’s shins, he had the boy rotate and flex his ankles.

“I think I got all the blood off. Time for a rinse.”

 Yagi shut the shower off and fetched a bathrobe for Izuku, who had abandoned the sopping wet towel from his waist. He didn’t need any cueing to dry his hair when Yagi handed him a towel for it. He was starting to relax.

Yagi chuckled to himself. Izuku wasn’t Stray. He’d imagined the grip of that villainous shadow as Izuku pushed passed his fear and trauma to rescue him. “There we go.” He guided Izuku to the bed. “I’m sure you brought something to sleep in, but until your ribs are healed you can use mine.” He dug out a tee shirt and a pair of sweats and handed them to the immodest boy. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’m going to jump through the shower.”

“Okay.” Izuku pulled the pajamas on and gingerly lay down on the bed.

Once in the shower, Yagi sighed. He turned up the heat to wash away the feeling of a shadow gripping him alongside Izuku's hand and the cold ethereal feeling of it pushing against his back. It wasn’t real.

He dragged himself out of the shower, dried off with the remaining towel, and crept out into the room. Izuku was dozing, so he was safe to paw through his bag for something to sleep in. Luckily, he’d packed a tank top and a couple of pairs of boxers.

Yagi eased down on the other side of the bed, hoping he didn’t wake the boy. He reached over with a fond smile and brushed the hair out of his face. Izuku rolled over, groaning as he put pressure on his ribs, and snuggled into his chest. As the teen relaxed into a deep and restful sleep – giving Yagi only a moment of peace and tranquility with his successor, the person he trusted most in the world, a person he was closer to than family – a slight chill encircled him. It was a barely perceptible difference.

His heart hammering in his chest, Yagi swallowed thickly as he stared at the shadow looped loosely around them. Exhaustion hit him as hard as despair. It felt as if the embers of his quirk were fading, dying. It would serve him right. His power was draining away as if siphoned by some unseen force. He was being drawn into a silent and empty darkness.

 He let tears roll down his cheeks even as he clutched the sleeping boy and whispered “Why? Why? Why?” into his hair.

So many things clicked into place, though. The sudden appearance of a healing quirk. His trainer being a criminal. His initial refusal of One for All. The deal. Yagi couldn’t believe it. Sweet, kind, thoughtful Izuku was working for that monster. He'd brought this monster into the boy's life. It was his fault.

Amid his crisis, Yagi succumb to his preternatural quirk exhaustion. He realized as he slipped into unconsciousness that it was an unnatural feeling, drawing strength and energy from him, despite the adrenaline the revelation had caused. Something about Izuku’s quirk. Quirks, he reminded himself sluggishly. Was it another quirk, or some interaction of them? He didn’t know, couldn’t piece it together. Everything went dark.

Chapter 66: A Question of Loyalty

Kurogiri took the opportunity presented by Stray’s three-day absence to deep clean Kuro Ba’s kitchen. He propped the doors open and programmed the jukebox with a selection of songs that would last about an hour and a half. He started by removing all the dry goods and countertop equipment. Then he dusted the ceiling and walls and washed them; paying special attention to the air vents, doorknobs, doors, and switch plates. The counters, cabinets, and drawers were thoroughly scrubbed next.

“Tomura?”

“What?!”

“Please put on some music. You can pick up to two hours worth.”

“Sure.” There was a ten-minute delay as Tomura carefully selected thirty-five songs. “There.”

 With the music back on, Kurogiri sprayed the inside of the oven down with oven cleaner. He then cleaned the outside of the stove, including the hood fan, with a degreaser. He soaked the hood filters and the burner grates. The oven was wiped out and rinsed with a damp cloth.

After the dry goods were reorganized, he went through the fridges and freezers for anything that needed to be thrown out. One at a time, he scrubbed them inside and out. The toaster, blender, and microwave were tackled next. Kurogiri smiled as he rinsed the hood filters and sent them through the dishwasher.

Once the stove was fully reassembled, he called out to Toga, “Sweetheart? Would you get the jukebox for me? Twenty to twenty-five songs ought to cover it.” He stretched as she made her selections. Tomura made little comments and digs about her choices.

The countertops and sinks were tackled next. Finally, he swept, mopped, and steam-cleaned the floors; including the floor mats. He lazily warped the garbage bags to the dumpster. He warped into the bathroom with rags and napkins. He put Tomura’s laundry on the drying rack in the shower and jumped the line to get the kitchen stuff in the washing machine. Back in the kitchen, he surveyed his work. Everything shined like new.

He stepped out into the bar. “Oh, Tomura. I’m just exhausted would you mind if…”

Tomura was already passing out takeout boxes. “I got you your usual.”

“Thank you.”

 

“Kurogiri,” Sensei’s stern voice came over the karaoke machine.

“Yes, Sensei?” he replied immediately. He wondered what could be upsetting his master so. Tomura was safe and the League’s plans were progressing smoothly. Stray even made sure they didn’t go too fast, so they could review the results of their efforts.

“I wish to speak to Tomura.” His tone was oddly cold when referring to his successor. “Please bring me over.”

“Of course.” While Kurogiri complied without hesitation, something in his master’s tone made the warp gate user uneasy.

Tomura’s brow was furrowed in confusion as Sensei stepped into the bar, but he smoothed his features into a careless grin as Sensei sat down next to him. “Hey.”

“Hello.” The aura of Sensei’s cold anger was palpable. Toga retreated into the stairwell.

“So, uh. What did you wanna talk about, Sensei?”

“What are your plans for the next few months?” The steely edge in his voice made Kurogiri flinch as if he had been cut.

“Uh, destabilize hero society by using Stain to shove the corruption of heroes in the public’s face. Then when there’s a decent amount of upheaval, turn it on the hero commission.”

“Any specific plans?” Sensei snapped; he grabbed Tomura’s arm.

Tomura flinched. Kurogiri took an abortive step towards them.

“Stay put,” Sensei ordered. “Specifics, Tomura.”

Fear rippled through Kurogiri. He took a deep calming breath. Sensei would never hurt Tomura. Never.

Tomura started to speak. He was babbling just a little. Sensei never even yelled at him. This was … worrying. “Uh, after a few more mid-rank heroes, we’re going to have Stain start investigating hero commission officers. With a bit of money, I think we can speed Stain's investigations up to one a week. Get a dead hero every Friday; a depressing headline to control the weekend news cycle. And, um, oh! I’ll need to talk to you at some point about designing a nomu for Endeavor. I’m pretty sure we’re waiting until after the Billboard Chart announcement to go after him seriously.” He paused looking nervous. He kept glancing at Sensei’s fingers gripping his wrist. It didn’t hurt, but Sensei had never touched him in anger before. “I, uh, wanna do something nice for Stray, I didn’t give him anything for his birthday, even after he and Kurogiri got me this necklace. I can’t decide between destroying his old school and tormenting his old bullies. He’d never do it for himself and it – and it would help with the whole civil unrest thing.”

“Oh?” Sensei said dryly. He squeezed Tomura’s wrist. “Why not just get him both?”

Tomura didn’t jerk away. “Sensei? Are you mad at me?”

He let go of Tomura’s arm. “No.” After a long pause, he added, “I’m sorry, Tomura,” and patted his wrist. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“Well, no, it didn’t hurt, but I was worried. I know I’ve been disappointing you lately,” Tomura said softly.

“No, child.” He cupped Tomura’s chin and gently turned his face so he was looking at Sensei’s soft smile. “Never think that. I’m stressed from other things, I shouldn’t take it out on you. You’re not at fault. Will you let me make it up to you?”

“Um, I, I guess, but really, it didn’t hurt and I’m just glad you’re not mad.”

“There must be a video game coming out that you want,” Sensei said gently.

“Not until next summer. But, um. Here,” he leaned over and hugged Sensei. Sensei stiffened in the embrace. “You don’t have to buy my affection. I want to make you proud of me. Maybe, I can help with whatever is upsetting you?”

“It’s All Might,” Sensei said testily. “I had a plan involving a dear friend of his, and it’s just gone down the tubes.”

“Oh. That sucks. Hm. Okay. Not a problem. Just let me go commit a light arson.”

“Tomura.” Sensei snapped. “This is not funny.”

A jolt ran through Kurogiri. He was loyal and obedient. Sensei gave him an order. Stay put. But he was supposed to protect Tomura Shigaraki. “Sensei,” he said pleadingly.

“I wasn’t joking,” Tomura said letting his shoulders slump. “We’ve chased him into a hotel with our stupid pranks. It’s not a good one either. If it went up, I bet the owner would be investigated for insurance fraud.”

“Not that I wanna draw attention to myself in this conversation,” Toga said peeking in from the stairs, “but if we stole his clothes first, then arson-ed the place, I have an idea for more stupid pranks.”

Kurogiri sighed. “It has been surprisingly effective at causing All Might distress.”

Tomura nodded. “Yeah, I’ll get Stray to be more proactive about getting us his blood. He was mooning over some ‘classic’ photo set the other day so I think I know what Toga’s driving at.”

She gave a nod and a giggle before disappearing into the shadows again.

“Anyway,” Sensei said icily. “You don’t have any problem with hurting All Might?”

“Look, Sensei if you want to us kill him, we can. I’d need better thugs.” He shrugged. “If you just want him dead Kurogiri can warp me into his hotel room once he gets back and I can disintegrate him. No big.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“He’s meaningless. I know Stray kinda likes Yagi, but even he’s over All Might. Plus, he’s kinda already dying and the whole forgotten hero/fading away angle is darkly appealing. If he gets in the way, he’s not worth keeping, but why turn the ‘symbol’ into a martyr?”

“Fantastic,” Sensei said sarcastically. “Well, I’ll just be going back to the lab.”

“Of course.” Kurogiri opened a warp gate. They walked through the portal together. “Is anything else wrong, Sensei?”

“No, of course not,” he replied dryly.

“You were…” Kurogiri said hesitantly. “You were short with Tomura.”

“Are you in love with Stray?”

He felt that that was an odd response, but Kurogiri answered honestly and without hesitation. “Yes.”

“And if he were a danger to Tomura?”

“I am the one that protects Tomura Shigaraki!” He expanded somewhat; whether it was to appear more fearsome as if to ward off some unseen potential threat or just to add weight to his words, Kurogiri did not know. It did make him feel better, though.

“He needs to stop letting Stray have so much control.” Sensei let Kurogiri hook up his oxygen and heart monitor.

“Is that what this was about?” Kurogiri cocked his head. “I will speak to them both, Sensei.”

“Both?” The ice was back.

 “Yes. Stray does not know his place; he was never instructed. I have let him act as a sort of playmate for Tomura. My apologies. Conversely, Tomura is trying to lead Stray down a difficult and rocky path. He is pushing him to be active in the league’s decisions as a more palatable way to get him desensitized to the death and violence necessary to change the system. And Stray will follow eagerly for that small consideration. No matter how many times he throws up.”

“Are you saying this just for Stray’s sake?

“I’m not saying this for Stray’s sake at all.” ‘I’m saying it for Tomura’s sake’ went unsaid.

“Izuku was a mistake.” He shook his head. “Or was it leaving him with his mother?” he muttered to himself.

“Sensei,” Kurogiri said pleadingly.

He returned his attention to his subordinate. “Stray is too…” Sensei trailed off. “Am I just jealous of how much the two of you seemed to value him?”

Kurogiri cocked his head again. “Tomura and I would do anything you asked of us.” He paused. “But you value our independence. You should not need to ask. I have failed in my duty to you.” Kurogiri knelt. “I am sorry.”

Sensei smirked. “Please don’t fall on your sword to protect your little lover. You are far too valuable to throw away over a misunderstanding. I had a small, relatively last-minute, scheme set up on I-island; Just adding some fuel to a fire already smoldering. You are, of course, familiar with David Shield?”

Kurogiri nodded.

“His simpering little assistant planned a heist from the vaults – access to I-island’s high-security vaults, Kurogiri – and he’d managed to hire a very impressive team. Wolfram, Swordkil, Daigo, Nobu, and most importantly, Nimda. He contacted me, knowing the island is a particular interest. Naturally, I made sure they were properly equipped. All I asked of Wolfram was to ensure that All Might found out that Shield had his hand in something evil. But Stray was involved in his downfall, the professor’s secret is undoubtedly safe. And I had no idea he was going to be there.”

“Ah. This is my fault then. He got the invitation last minute, but he texted to ask if we had anything going on before accepting. I should have told you.”

“Hmm. I don’t like not knowing where my people are. My only conciliation is that Nimba was able to access the main security hub and add in something I can use later.” He ran his fingers through Kurogiri’s hair for several minutes. As soon as the tension in Kurogiri’s shoulders began to relax, he roughly grabbed a fist of it. “Do be more considerate in the future.”

“Yes sir.”

 

When Kurogiri got back to the bar, Toga was waiting for him downstairs. She led him up to the roof. Tomura was nursing a whiskey sour while sitting on the edge. His wrist had faint red markings on it. It was going to bruise.

“I’m sorry, Tomura.”

“For what?”

“You got hurt.”

“You didn’t do it,” he replied stiffly.

“It’s my job to protect you.”

“Not from Sensei.”

“You shouldn’t need protection from Sensei,” Kurogiri replied earnestly. “He was upset that I forgot to tell him where Stray would be.”

Tomura stood, strode quickly across the roof, and cupped Kurogiri’s face gently, leaving his pinkies up. “Did he hit you? Are you hurt? I’ll kill him if he hurt you!”

“He didn’t hurt me, Tomura. And please don’t speak so rashly about your – about Sensei. He cares about us deeply; it’s just difficult for him to show it. He has been focused on All Might for thirty years or more; it is hard to let that go. And before that, he spent nearly a hundred years hunting down his brother’s quirk. He has made progress with that for the first time, and Stray is not what, who he expected.”

“I don’t want him to hurt Stray, either.”

“Then we simply appease him.”

“How?”

“Tomura, you must show initiative. Work towards your goals. Make your own plans.” Kurogiri explained while Tomura gently searched his face and head for any sign of injury. He smiled softly. He had put so much work into hardening this boy’s heart only for Stray to teach him empathy again in a year. They were going to change the world together. “What do you want, Tomura Shigaraki?”

“I don’t know!”

“You need to figure it out quickly.”

“In the meantime, do you think general havoc and destruction would placate our BBEG?” Toga asked.

“It might,” Kurogiri said cautiously. “I know you were thinking about hiring someone to investigate Stray’s abuse at that school, but I think we should just destroy it.”

“Like I’m throwing a tantrum?” Tomura asked.

“Like you don’t understand why Stray would be upset if you did some light arson.”

“I wanted to do something nice for him,” Tomura pouted.

“Then do so, Tomura Shigaraki.”

Tomura looked into his eyes for a long moment. “Alright. Get me someone to blast the schools' records all over the place. That’ll get us a list that’s longer than just ‘Kacchan’, anyway. We can totally grab Yagi’s shit from his hotel, and maybe start a fire. Let’s look into some people that will hold up long term. Even if we never go up against All Might again we do plan on taking down Endeavor once he’s the new number one. We should start getting ready for that. And we should look for something or someone to take Stain’s place as a figurehead. If Stray doesn’t kill him, I might.”

“Yes sir.”

 

Tomura surveyed the pathetic lot that Giran had brought him; a lizard mutation with pink hair, an emo boy with burn scars, and a thick guy with shoulder-length red hair. He hated having this meeting without Stray, but he would still be gone for another two days. Toga was standing in for him, but it wasn’t the same.

Giran gave him a lopsided grin. “What’d ya think?”

“Ugh. Kurogiri, get rid of them. I can already tell they’re the kind of people I hate. A wannabe punk, a guy with no manners, and a disheveled loser.”

“Now, now, Tomura Shigaraki, they came all this way. The least we can do is hear them out. Give them a chance. Besides, Giran is respected in the underground. They are bound to be valuable assets.”

“Like ‘em or not you still owe me a finder’s fee; in cash,” Giran said smoothly. His usual oily charm was on full display. “I suppose I could introduce them before I go. She’s committed nine armed robberies, three murders, and twenty-nine attempted murders.”

She? Tomura thought. He looked the thick guy - woman up and down. Must be here for the money. He nodded to himself.

“The name is Magne. Those who are bound by the chains of society laugh at those who aren’t. I don’t want to be bound by anything.”

“These two haven’t committed any flashy crimes,” Giran continued, “but they’ve taken Stain’s ideology to heart.”

“I don’t like this,” the burnt emo said. “Is your group really dedicated to the hero killer’s mission? I can’t imagine you are if you’re –”

“Enough. Have some manners. What’s your name?”

“Right now I’m going by Dabi.”

“No, I want to know your real name.”

“You didn’t ask hers,” the lizard said.

“She has some manners.”

“I’ll tell you when you need to know it. In any case, my new purpose is to carry out the hero killer’s will.”

“That wasn’t what I asked you, patchwork. Geeze, Stray really knows his stuff; everyone is so hung up on Stain. Truthfully, it pisses me off,” he sighed, “but I might be able to use you. I need Player Characters, not trash mobs. So, I’ll start you with a small job. Win, lose, or draw, you’ll get paid for this one, but think of it as an audition. You three are going to take out a source of rot in hero society. You’ll have three days and whatever resources Kurogiri thinks are reasonable. I want Aldera Junior High destroyed.”

“Huh?”

“How is that furthering Stain’s mission?”

“You’re going to find out. After all, Stain doesn’t just take out random heroes for no reason, does he?”

 

Magne had insisted that they break in – which was so easy Dabi was surprised that one of the doors wasn’t left unlocked for them – and search the disciplinary records. They had records going back six years.

“This is going to take forever,” Spinner groaned as he dropped another binder on the floor.

“Try the teacher’s records,” Magne said. “If there’re any bad apples it’ll be one of them.”

“This is beneath us,” Dabi complained.

“You took the job, honey,” Magne pointed out. “Don’t like it? Walk.”

“Do you think the League really is working with Stain?” Spinner asked. He yanked open the drawer that contained the teachers’ records. It wasn’t even locked.

“Does it matter?” she asked. “If they’re promoting his ideals, isn’t that enough?”

“Woah,” Dabi murmured. “Check this out. It’s that general course kid that took third in the Yuuei sports festival.”

“That’s a lot of infractions, how did he manage to get into Yuuei with a record like that?” Spinner asked.

“There are no punishments listed,” Dabi replied.

Magne stepped over and skimmed the file. “Start looking at their quirks.”

“Why?”

“He’s listed as quirkless. I can’t remember his quirk from the festival.”

“Hey, here’s the one that placed second!” Spinner reached passed Dabi and pulled out the binder. “Katsuki Bakugo, quirk: Explosions. Academically he was the top of his class.”

“Yeah, with the quirkless wonder nipping at his heels,” Dabi said, tilting the book in his hands for the others to see. “A lot of these are for being ‘disruptive,’ but they’re light on details.”

“We’ll need to compare them to his classmates,” Magne said. She pulled an armload of binders out and headed to the copy machine in the staffroom. While she copied all the records for Bakugo and Midoriya’s class - including the teacher - Dabi and Spinner sifted through the remaining records for more ‘disruptive’ quirkless kids. They set aside a few with weak quirks and mutations to double back to.

The last hour was spent just putting everything back. Magne called Kurogiri on the burn phone he’d given her, and once they were back in the bar she requested a laptop to start going over the social media of their ‘targets’.

 

While the three new recruits were away, Giran brought two more to see Tomura. “This is Jin-kun, he’s the other option I had in mind when I brought you Toga-chan.”

“Hi! Pleased to meet you, boss,” the man in the black bodysuit said. His demeanor changed entirely as he said, “What’s up, handyman?”

“What’s his damage?” Tomura asked.

“Well, he had a bit of an accident with his quirk. He’s got a kinda split personality thing going on. He’s good people.”

“Fine. What’s your quirk?”

“I can make doubles of anything, but I need to have a precise image in my head. That means height, chest measurement, and shoe size if it’s a person.” He pulled a tailor's measuring tape out of one of the bulky wristbands he had on. “You name it I need it; gotta have as much info as possible. Only then can I make one thing into two. The main difference between the doubles and the real thing is durability. They just kinda melt if they’re knocked around too much. I can make doubles of up to two things at once. The damage the second object can take is even lower.”

“That could be very useful, but I can see why you sent us Toga first.”

“His job is rough on the outfits,” Giran agreed. “And this dashing gentleman has a wide array of skills and abilities I’m sure will come in handy, whatever the job is.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances.” He took his top hat off and bowed. He looked like a stage magician who got bad fashion advice. “My quirk is called compression. Like an archaic zip file, I make things smaller and easier to transport.”

“Anyway, Jin –”

“You can call me Twice,” he said then added, “Jin is fine.”

“Anyway, Twice, Compress, welcome to the League of Villains.”

 

Kurogiri ignored the newcomers as he programmed four hours of songs onto the jukebox. He dusted the walls and ceiling before clearing the shelves and counters; storing the alcohol bottles in plastic crates in the kitchen. Then he removed and washed all the glassware, catch trays, and tubs in the bar. He dusted and scrubbed the shelves and bar before spraying the wood with polish.

When he started stacking the chairs on the table, Twice moved his solitaire game to the bar, next to the still-disguised Toga. Magne and Spinner grumbled about being displaced during their research. He cleaned and polished the sole table and four chairs.

Tomura ordered food again, this time from a burger joint. “Anyone that isn’t ready to order when I ask you, is getting a kids' meal and an orange soda.”

“It’s the breakfast menu, Tomura,” ‘Stray’ corrected him.

“They have breakfast happy meals, but you’re right, orange juice, not soda.” Tomura waited about ten seconds before calling their names one by one; in order from least favorite to most.

Dabi barely managed to blurt out ‘sausage’ before Tomura put him down for the happy meal. Spinner ordered the fish sandwich. Magne and Compress both ordered the deluxe breakfast, while Twice got a chicken crisp muffin and a bacon and egg sandwich. Toga, as Stray ordered the pancakes with sausage and eggs. Kurogiri frowned at the options but settled on a deluxe breakfast as well. Tomura ordered a bacon and egg breakfast sandwich and French toast dippers for himself. As he put everything in as combos, they came with hash browns and a drink; coffee for most of them but Dabi was stuck with orange juice, Magne wanted hot tea and Toga went with a melon soda.

She had told him and Kurogiri previously that coffee tasted funny on Stray’s tongue. He had shrugged and claimed to like it well enough, but he did take it with a good deal of cream and sugar.

 

After eating, Kurogiri and Toga warped into Yagi’s hotel room. After a quick check to see who was staying at the seedy hotel, the pair decided to prank Yagi instead of burning it. First, Toga selected two of his cheap and easily replaceable white tee shirts – both with recognizable stains – and two pairs of dark army green cargo pants. As it wasn’t his primary residence, he didn’t have much there; so they replaced them with smaller shirts and off-color pants. The iconic belt was absent, but the long shirts would cover it anyway.

Next, they hid a few cameras and put flamingo pink glitter on the fan blades. Toga scrawled ‘I hope she was worth it’ on the mirror in matte finish burgundy lipstick. Blue dye was put in the faucet and showerhead. Kurogiri wrapped his pillow in saran wrap and put it back in its pillowcase. Then he unpaired all of his socks and rematched them with different mates.

It was petty and ridiculous, but he felt much better afterward. Kurogiri warped them home and after checking on Tomura, he took Toga to bed. He tucked the girl’s head into his chest and deeply missed the cocoon of Stray’s shadow as he wrapped her in his misty arms. She slung her arms around his neck and nuzzled his shoulder sleepily. He hugged her tightly for a moment, relishing her weight and warmth, and then rubbed her back and shoulders lazily, until they both fell asleep.

Chapter 67: Rest and Relaxation

His stomach lurched. The wind whistled past him. Branches scraped and cut his cheeks. Cold bit at his bones. Darkness clouded his vision.  The only thing that broke his endless fall was the flashes of blood. Sam with his brains blown out. Rose Red’s severed head. Toga drowning. Tomura with a blade buried in his shoulder. Yagi plummeting to the ground. 

He reached out with his shadow. Steel gray and amber flashed before his eyes. He felt a lurching sensation. He was suddenly on a flat featureless plain. The starry sky above them seemed to ripple with hazy formlessness. The tall woman and the cat stood at his sides. He felt their message thrum through him like a pleasant ache. We are with you.

A hazy and indistinct group of figures stood across from them. One resembling Yagi stepped towards them. Izuku reflexively took a step back. The form held its hand out. Izuku hesitantly reached out for it. The pair at his shoulders gently encouraged him forward. He took his hand.

I know. I understand. I love you.

 

Izuku woke up snuggled into a tight and warm embrace. His heart was pounding. He nuzzled Kurogiri’s chest and was upset to find the usual tickle of mist absent when he breathed in. Kurogiri’s chest was too lean, and it felt solid-solid as opposed to ethereal-solid. Izuku grumbled.

A jolt of realization shot through him. He unwound his shadow and slipped out of Yagi’s arms. Izuku padded into the bathroom. He used the toilet, washed his hands and face, and spent a few seconds calming down. He peaked out of the bathroom at the sleeping form.

Yagi had grabbed the other pillow and tucked it in the space Izuku had vacated. He watched for a long time but Yagi didn’t stir. Relieved, he checked for a minibar or room service menu. He was disappointed to find that room service stopped at midnight, and it was nearly one in the morning. Moreover, his quirk was on in full force and he was starving; and therefore mute.

After dressing, Izuku made sure he had his phone and room key, before heading to the lobby. There was an automated information kiosk with listings for the expo and, thankfully, restaurants. Pickings were slim but he found one place that wasn’t a bar.

It was a food truck called Snack O’clock. There was a small crowd but the wait wasn’t too long. The menu was decent. Entrées were: a burger, a taco (flour or corn tortilla), a burrito, a slice of pizza (cheese, pepperoni, or Margherita), wings (honey glaze, buffalo, or hot), chicken strips (spicy or plain), a bowl of chili (vegetarian) or a bowl of the soup of the day (Monday – vegetable, Tuesday – tomato, Wednesday – cream of broccoli, Thursday – potato, Friday – dumpling, Saturday – cream of mushroom, Sunday – French onion). Each came with two sides (or you could order four sides for the same price): fries (regular or parmesan garlic truffle), salad (green or chopped), a cup of chili, a cup of soup, half a grilled cheese, vegetable (raw or grilled), mozzarella sticks, two eggs (fried or scrambled), hash browns, or bacon. You could have your chili poured over another dish, and the meat options were one hundred percent beef, chicken, or meat-free as a patty, sausage, ground, or shredded. Extra sauce or cheese was fifty yen, and extra meat was a hundred and fifty. Drinks were all bottled: water, coconut water, tea, green tea, cold brew coffee, lemonade, and orange juice.

The bored twenty-something working the window didn’t know any sign language. “Point at what you want,” they said patiently.

Izuku pointed to the burger, beef, cheese, fries, and grilled vegetables. He slid over his prepaid debit. The burger was juicy and satisfying. The lettuce crunched, the tomato was thick and fresh, and the onion added a pleasant bite. The patty had a faint smoky charcoal flavor and the cheese was beautifully melted and gooey. The fries were the perfect combination of greasy and salty. The grilled vegetables were light and refreshing, but big on flavor. Squash, zucchini, and eggplant were sliced, drizzled with olive oil, and sprinkled with coarse salt. Peppers, onions, and mushrooms were tossed in a sauce of dill, thyme, and paprika. Asparagus, carrots, and long spears of broccoli were drizzled with rosemary-infused butter sauce.

It was filling and delicious. Izuku was sure he’d been given more than the usual amount of vegetables; not that he was complaining. He was just about to order another when his phone rang. He answered, thankfully finding his voice, “Hey?”

“Where are you?” Yagi asked.

“Couple a blocks away at a food truck,” he replied. “Want me to pick you up something? They make an excellent burger.”

“I – no, just. Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds great actually,” Yagi stumbled over himself until he sighed. “Hurry back, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry I worried you.”

“No, it’s not – I mean a note would have been nice. Or a text.”

“Did something happen?”

“No. I. It’s stupid. I was just worried, but I know you can take care of yourself.”

“It’s not stupid. You’re my mentor, and we went through some shit today. I’d be freaked if I woke up and you were gone. I wasn’t thinking.” He tapped the menu for two more burgers and the same sides. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

 

Moments before…

His stomach lurched; which was a joke considering how long he’d been without one. Yagi groaned in his sleep as a predictable onslaught of nightmarish images paraded before his mind’s eye. All for One killing Nana, only it was Izuku shoving him away from the warped landscape. The purple fire and bolts of black lightning followed as the scene changed. It was Stray he charged at clutching his side; blood, viscera, and organs spilling out.

His heart clenched when he saw a flash of his mentor as he fell with no plan and no power to stop it. He was forgetting her. There was a hazy formlessness obscuring her face. He could see her eyes, sharp, determined, but sad. Her smile was lost to him, though. That hurt more than having his guts ripped out.

Warm tears slid down his cheeks. He was losing her again. Nana’s shrouded form reached out to him. He stretched and struggled to reach her as he fell. He willed his hand to touch hers. The tips of their fingers brushed.

Where is he? Find him.

Yagi startled awake, squeezing the boy wrapped in his arms as he struggled to catch his breath. He wasn’t lost. He was right here. Izuku was right… he was hugging a pillow. Yagi flicked the lights on and scanned the room. It was empty. Izuku’s suitcase was open and the shirt and sweats he’d been wearing were folded neatly next to it.

He grabbed the comm of the coffee table and tried that before he realized the other set was there too. He took a slow not-exactly-deep breath. Yagi checked the bathroom, just to be sure, then grabbed his phone and dialed Izuku.

He knew he sounded frantic. He kept stumbling over himself, unsure what to say. Stray. His successor was Stray. Izuku was being forced, tricked, and manipulated. He tried to be soothing but Izuku just ended up apologizing for worrying him. They got off the phone and he paced the room in a state of agitation while he waited.

“Sorry I worried you,” Izuku said again as he came in.

“It’s… I understand you needed to eat.”

Izuku nodded. “Does it ever get any easier?”

“Of course. A little bit each time,” he assured him. “Plus the training will help.”

“I can barely remember any of it.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry if I was any trouble. I was out of it after the roof. I’m sure someone fell.”

Yagi chuckled. “I was knocked off the roof and you rescued me.”

“That does not sound right.” Izuku scrutinized him. Searching for something, some indication that Yagi was onto him.

“It’s what happened.” Yagi tried to sound casual and definitive at the same time. He didn’t want this confrontation here. Not now. Not yet.

“What was my plan? How did we get back up, or down, or whatever?” Izuku asked shaking his head.

“Same way you jumped on the water, just with the side of the tower,” he lied.

Izuku stared at him for a long time. Eventually, he seemed satisfied with what he saw and smiled. “Wish I could remember it.”

“Yeah, it was a neat trick.” Yagi stretched and yawned. “I’m going back to sleep after I eat. If you head out again, wake me okay?”

“Yeah,” the boy agreed sheepishly.

 

It was a few hours before the sun was up, but Izuku still waited for Yagi. The light shifted from being dominated by the bluish glow of the computer monitor to the warm tones of the sunrise. Yagi’s slumbering form was bathed in a golden glow. The shifting light eased him from a deep sleep to a lighter one; with a soft moan, almost a mewl, his eyes fluttered open.

Yagi stretched languidly on the massive bed. Eyes still lidded from sleep he murmured, “Good morning,” to the boy. He lazed there for five or ten more minutes before stretching again and rolling out of bed. He padded to the bathroom and closed the door. Izuku swallowed hard and tried to shake clear the softly erotic vision of his mentor’s long frame clad in only boxers and a tank top.

Still, in the fitted navy blue tee shirt and jeans he’d worn to grab food, he checked for anything he needed before they headed out. The remainder of the burgers he got would make a suitable breakfast for the both of them. Yagi silently passed through the room again to grab clothes before he showered. He came out wearing an oversized white polo shirt and a pair of khaki cargo shorts.

“Well, that’s mood whiplash,” Izuku muttered to himself. Truthfully, he was glad to see Yagi in this familial light. He chalked the earlier, brief, attraction up to teenage hormones and confusing affection and love with desire.

“What?”

“Er, nothing, Dad.”

Yagi coughed and sounded like he was choking for a moment. “Young man!”

Izuku raised an eyebrow at him.

“Your mother is a happily married woman.”

“Touché.”

The pair laughed and sat down to eat. Izuku relaxed more as the meal progressed with their usual back and forth. He was sure now that he hadn’t blown his cover. Yagi still trusted him, still liked him, and he wouldn’t if he knew Izuku was a villain.

He didn’t realize he’d teared up until a large, warm hand ruffled his hair. “We’re safe. It’s okay.”

“He shot him right in front of me,” Izuku blurted. He didn’t even know it was bothering him until he said it. If asked Izuku would not have been able to tell you whether he had crawled into Yagi’s lap or if the older man had gathered him up as he started sobbing. All he knew was that once the sniffles had subsided, and he tearfully apologized for getting snot on Yagi’s shirt, he was held until he felt better. “It’s not my fault?”

“No, it’s not. You didn’t bring them here, you didn’t put a gun in his hand, and you didn’t pull the trigger.”

“Sorry I ruined –”

“Izuku. I’m glad you feel safe with me. That you trust me. I know it hurts. I know failing to save someone goes down like eating glass. I understand what you are going through and I will be here to help you, no matter what.” He clutched the boy tightly. “Don’t bottle things up, you don’t have to do this alone.” Yagi pulled back to look him in the eyes. “A shared burden is much easier to carry.”

The boy smiled.

Yagi smiled back. “Let’s finish eating.”

 

Exploring the crowded expo with Yagi would have been fun if it hadn’t been canceled due to the damage caused to the central tower and the need to go over the security system with a fine-tooth comb. They settled on a nice, casual stroll while chatting about this and that. They bought little trinkets and souvenirs at any shops that were open. Yagi blushed bright red as Izuku bought an exclusive Early Access All Might Fiftieth Birthday Holographic Photo Slide Show Display. They had actually gotten a hold of some pictures from Yuuei and his university.

Yagi checked it for proper licensing while the boy got a few blanks and a couple for international heroes. His favorite part was that each came with a booklet, giving context to the included images.

“Careful with your spending, Izuku. We’re here for another full day.”

“It’s fine. I’m pretty sure I have more than I could spend.”

“You’re parents are generous with your allowance?”

Izuku wished he could lie and say yes, just leave it at that, but it would be so easy for Yagi to casually say something about it to his mom. It was best to give them all the same information. And it wasn’t even really a lie. “My trainer kinda pays me now, and I don’t really have anything to spend it on.”

“Oh? What does Kuu pay you for?”

Izuku’s stomach dropped. “Well, okay, not my trainer, his … boss? I don’t want to say sugar daddy because that implies they sleep together and, just ew, no. More like, well patron sort of implies the same thing. Kuu’s job isn’t exactly well-defined. He looks after Toki, mostly, but he runs errands too.” Izuku scratched the back of his head. “Well, I started helping out as compensation for him training me, but it turns out his boss had started putting money away for me in an account.” He shrugged. “They both like to help people.”

Yagi nodded, although his expression seemed somewhat grim. “Just make sure to report everything to the National Tax Agency.”

Izuku beamed at him. “Naturally!” His eyes lit up as he spotted an electronics shop just off the concourse. “Oh, that reminds I wanted to get a DSR.” He jogged into the store and almost collided with Kaminari who was coming up from the other direction. They both laughed when they realized they were headed to the same shop.

“After you.”

“Oh, no; you first.”

“I couldn’t think of it.”

“I insist.”

“Why don’t we go together?”

“Let’s do,” Izuku agreed. The boys linked arms and walked through the automatic sliding doors.

Yagi chuckled and followed. He watched as Kaminari flitted about the store commenting on the options and prices. Izuku meanwhile made a beeline to the Duel Screen Retro display. Closed it was six by three by one inches, giving a glorious six by six inches of touch screen when open. Ten generations of handheld devices could be simulated on the DSR.

They had the standard colors: Arctic White, Bright Red, Brilliant Purple, Coral Pink, Jet Black, Sky Blue, and Slate Grey. For a little bit more, they also had several limited edition colors: Rose Gold, Rainbow, Citrus Orange, Lemon Yellow, and Lime Green, and three I-island exclusive colors: Burgundy, Cobalt, and Aborigine. Each was available in chrome, gloss, metallic, matte or transparent finishes and could be selected separately for each side, the I-island logo and the trim. Simple orders could be completed in a day, but anything with custom decals or character art would take longer; as would color gradients, stripes, and any other nonstandard pattern. It was a shame he didn’t have more time.

As Izuku agonized over what color to buy, Kaminari walked over to him. “Isn’t that really expensive?”

“Kinda, yeah, but I promised a friend I’d get him one. He’ll pay me back.” There was a nagging sensation in the back of his mind, again. “Besides who else is going to continue getting their ass kicked at PVP.” He turned back to the display. “I just don’t know what color to get.”

“For you or him?”

“Yes.”

“What about black?” Yagi asked from behind them. “That seems safe.”

Kaminari jumped. “Who – uh, do you work here?”

“Oh, this is Yagi-san. He’s All Might’s personal assistant. He’s hanging out with me while All Might rests.”

Yagi nodded.

“Black would be a safe option, but… I kinda want to surprise him, you know?”

“Red and blue are the normal PVP colors,” Kaminari said. “But I get going for the hard-to-find or exclusive ones. Get the dark red and blue ones, maybe?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Izuku nodded, wishing he were unsupervised. He was paying the equivalent of seventy thousand yen for each device, but he wasn’t sure Tomura would like either of them. He tapped the kiosk to start his order. Izuku smiled. He could have everything gift-wrapped and sent to the plane. It was perfect.

He quickly selected the burgundy in a gloss finish with a bright red metallic logo and matte black trim for Toga. The display example of the gloss burgundy looked like the dark wet blood that seeped into the tube every time he had blood drawn for her. For Kurogiri he did matte black with metallic rose gold logo and trim. He thought it looked sophisticated and classy. He did the aborigine in gloss with a transparent jet-black logo and trim for himself. It was a rich, dark purple just shy of black.

Tomura still eluded him, so he punched in gloss cobalt with matte finish, sky blue to complete the set. If Tomura didn’t care for it, he could give it to a classmate. On impulse, and to stall some more, he ordered a rose gold one with a metallic rainbow for his mom, matte purple with transparent trim for Shinso, and matte pink with metallic yellow trim for Hatsume.

That just left Tomura, and loading them up with games. It was a neat, and unexpected, feature that they came with three free downloads and more than double the storage capacity of mainland models. Although, that made sense when he thought about it; I-islanders would need any game cartridge they wanted shipped to them, and the extra onboard storage meant they could just download instead.

He racked his brain about what he thought Tomura would like. Costuming, both Tomura’s and Stray’s, suggested black and red. Izuku hit the randomizer a few times to help him think and stumbled on to gold. Or rather, grey with a black logo and trim. Tomura had asked for chrome hardware when ordering his original outfit. The grey was truly silver when finished in metallic, and fully reflective when finished in chrome.

That done he popped on a copy of Animal Crossing Plus: Retro Paradise for each device. The League also got Among Us Retro Plus and Sky Pirate Brigade, while the ones for his mom and friends got Mario Party: Retro Revolution and Heroes of Hyrule: Reto Revival.

Happy, he sent the order to the checkout. Yagi stepped up to the register and swiped his credit card. The clerk gave a low whistle but didn’t comment. Izuku made a low-strangled noise; Yagi had just spent five hundred and sixty thousand yen.

“Think nothing of it, Midoriya, my boy,” Yagi said as he stepped up to the kiosk. He poked about the options for a while and asked if he could gift games to people later.

“Yeah, you can buy them in the online store or in the Retro Shop on the DSR as long as you select the ‘buy as gift’ option and have their friend code it’ll show up in their inventory and they can download it. You can also buy virtual gift cards the same way,” the clerk informed him.

“That’s very handy.”

“Well, the Retro was made in partnership with I-island so communication and community were high priorities,” they said with a smile.

“You know what?” Kaminari asked stepping up to the kiosk himself. “I’d like to help you improve your skills. Maybe even challenge your friend myself!” He quickly tapped through the customization options. “You ready for All Might’s surprise?”

“Yeah, I just have to swing by the hotel and make sure he’s ready. I’ll see you there.”

“Cool!”

              

All Might laughed uproariously as he grilled too much meat, vegetables, and corn for the six students, Shield, Melissa, Fuyumi, and Endeavor. “Hey everyone! You really saved me this time, didn’t you? Today is my treat so eat as much as you want!”

The students cheered.

“I really appreciate the opportunity to recuperate my lipid stores,” Yaoyorozu professed, taking a more than lady-like portion and not being judged for it.

“Try this,” Izuku said offering her a bite of grilled pineapple.

“Oh that’s so good!” she gasped. “It’s tangy and not too sweet.”

Shoto leaned over. “Try this.” He offered her a bite of asparagus, smiling when she cooed about it as well.

“Shoto is really happy with his friends,” Fuyumi said to her father.

“I’m proud of him,” he replied quietly.

“He did really well last night.”

“It’s not that. He always meets my expectations when it comes to being a hero. I’m proud that he does that and has a life beyond it. That he has the courage to shove me aside and hold the world to a higher standard, rather than merely bear the burden of meeting theirs.”

“Huh?”

“I’m proud of your brother for being who he is.”

“Oh! Awe, Dad, that’s sweet.”

“I’m proud of you and Natsuo, too,” he said looking away from her, “even if I don’t say it often enough.”

 Fuyumi beamed at him. “Are you getting sentimental? No. You’ve always been sentimental. The real question is, what’s cracking your hard exterior?”

“Nothing. Hush up and have some meat. It’s not every day the number one pro hero cooks for you.”

“It’s a shame we don’t get to be on the news,” Kaminari lamented.

“If they let on that a bunch of kids bypassed security and saved the day the island would be crawling with villains,” Endeavor huffed loudly.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he replied happily. “At least we get a great reward!”

The other kids, mouths mostly full, signaled their agreement with vigorous nods and thumbs up.

“Hey, Toshi?” Shield asked softly, from the other side of All Might.

“Yeah, Dave?”

Izuku gave the scientist a warning look.

“I want to apologize, for the trouble that S-sam and I caused.”

All Might hugged his friend to the ‘awes’ of his students. Kaminari and Izuku took over flipping the meats while he was indisposed. “It’s okay. You had no idea what he was doing, and even Sam was fooled by those villains. I know it hurts. It’s going to hurt for a long time, but I’m sure he thought he was doing the right thing. Whatever you were working on could have been refined or tweaked to make the world a better place. He lost sight of the path and took a misstep, that doesn’t make him a bad person. He was taken advantage of in a moment of weakness. He should be remembered for the good he did.”

Shield nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He gripped All Might like a lifeline.

“Oh, papa,” Melissa sighed. She hugged him from behind.

“It-it was a device to stop your quirk levels from dropping.”

 “Shh, Dave. It’s okay. It’s okay. You can make another, better medical device.”

“He’s not dying,” Izuku said harshly. The ‘I won’t allow it,’ hung unsaid between them.

All Might met his eyes and found a fierce and fiery determination there. He smiled brightly. “The future’s not set in stone after all.”

“Move,” Endeavor said pushing Kaminari out of the way. “And eat this one before you burn it.”

Fuyumi laughed. “Like you can cook any better, Dad.” She stepped up to the grill, intent on taking over from him; but Endeavor rearranged the food so that everything was at the temperature it needed. He even lifted the grill to toss a few coals into places he thought needed it. He did let her add the various sauces when he thought it was time.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Shoto said.

“It’s a good skill for every fire user to pick up; gauging temperature, controlling heat, developing timing.”

“Huh. That’s what Bon-bo– I mean Bonfire said.”

“Hey, Midoriya wanna play volleyball with the girls and me?”

“Nah. I mean I’d love to but I had like three crushing injuries last night and I’m trying to baby my ribs. I’ll be fine by tomorrow, but it’s only been what, eight, ten hours?”

“It was twelve when we – when you and Yagi-kun left the hotel this morning. It’s been more like sixteen hours now,” All Might corrected him.

“Should only take me fourteen to heal,” he said mostly to himself. “Alright, I guess. I’m just being a wuss at this point. Let’s play.”

Chapter 68

The scrawny teen in front of Tomura was doing his best to look tough, sandwiched between the large muscular thug and the BDSM sack of gnashing teeth strapped to a handcart. He fidgeted nervously and kept touching his gun. It was starting to piss Tomura off.

“These two are fine, I guess. Their reputations precede them. The kid, eh; I’ll take him, but he better be some kinda diamond in the rough.”

“He’s got what it takes to go far in this business, with the right grooming, I guarantee it.”

“Fine. Kurogiri, give Giran his pay.” He turned to Muscular and Moonfish. “The Doc’s going to look you two over. Maybe upgrade that eye.”

They were warped away as Kurogiri handed Giran a briefcase full of cash.

“I appreciate you taking the kid, actually. It’s hard to find an operation that won’t just sex traffic him.”

“He does have a soft look to him,” Kurogiri agreed.

“Do you think he’s cute~?” Toga, still disguised as Stray, asked.

“He’s rather plain looking,” Kurogiri replied. “It could become advantageous if he learns to use it correctly.”

For his part, the boy took it stoically, trying to stay calm between his obvious fear and indignation.

“What’s your name?”

“Mustard.”

“No, your real name.”

“Nagumo.”

Tomura nodded. “Nagumo-kun, stop fiddling with your gun, or I’ll take it away.”

Mustard narrowed his eyes at this.

“Look, just relax, we’re not planning on killing you or doing anything gross. I won’t lie and say you’re safe with us, but Giran thinks you could be useful, so I’m giving you a shot. Don’t tarnish his reputation because you’re nervous swimming with the big fish.”

“Tch. What have you ever done?”

“Not much, honestly. Nearly killed All Might, wounded some heroes and some wannabe heroes, filmed for Stain. Nothing to brag about.”

Mustard swallowed what was likely his pride before he choked on it.

“So, what’s your quirk?” ‘Stray’ asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I produce a toxic gas that knocks people unconscious.”

“An AoE quirk! That could be useful,” ‘Stray’ cooed. “Visible or invisible?”

“Visible.”

“That does present some challenges, but it can also be used for field control.” ‘he’ grinned. “I have a great idea for our little camping trip.”

 

Izuku was not sure how this breakfast date had been arranged. He, Shoto, Kaminari, and Jiro were left unsupervised at a small café. He was surprised that Yagi would let him out of his sight after he went out to get food in the middle of the night. That had probably terrified him. He chewed on his lip.

“Earth to Izuku~,” Kaminari called, lightly snapping his fingers in Izuku’s line of sight.

“Huh?”

“Your order? Unless you want me to see if they’ll waffle a breakfast sandwich.”

“That sounds fine,” he agreed.

“We don’t have any breakfast sandwiches,” the waitress pointed out, a tad annoyed and impatient.

Kaminari scoffed. “One fried egg, a side of sausage patties, and a side of mini waffles with the syrup and butter on the side. If you can add a slice of cheese to the order, the sandwich section says it’s only seventy-five yen.”

“Whatever,” she scribbled the order down.

“I’m going to assume your attitude comes from yesterday’s attack,” Izuku said as she walked away, “It’s got us rattled, too.”

She turned and frowned at him.

He stared back and gave a weak half smile. “It’ll be okay. The hero’s saved the day and everything will go back to normal soon.”

She returned the smile. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It was scary for everyone,” he reassured her.

“Damn, Midoriya,” Jiro said, as she returned to the kitchen. “That was so simple I’m shocked it worked.”

“He was sincere,” Shoto said. “It’s part of his charm.”

“Yeah?” Izuku asked. “You like that about me? You don’t think its cringe?”

“Cringe? I don’t know that one.”

“You are so sheltered. Okay so, basically, when something is cringe it gives you secondhand embarrassment. Does that make sense?”

Shoto nodded and gave Izuku a small smile; just a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth.

Izuku leaned in and kissed him there. “Beautiful.”

Jiro covered her mouth with her hand, Kaminari laughed good-naturedly and patted Izuku’s shoulder, and Shoto’s smile blossomed alongside a light blush creeping over his cheeks. He buried his head in Izuku’s shoulder.

“Simmer down, Midoriya,” Jiro chided, lightly.

He grinned at her. “I’m not trying to rizz him. I mean it. His smile is beautiful.”

“That’s part of the problem,” Shoto said sitting up, having regained his composure quickly. “Your sincerity is equally beautiful. I just…” he looked down and Izuku tilted his chin back up. “It’s my first time.”

Izuku’s mouth went dry and he struggled to swallow for a moment. “I –,” his voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. “I’ll be gentle, and more importantly, slow. We can take compliments as slow as handholding and kissing. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I liked it. I think, just, spread them out?”

“I can do that, and same. I’m still getting used to it too.”

Jiro groaned. “You too look so cool together but then you open your mouths and you’re both just – so cringe; tragic and awkward.”

“Hey,” Izuku piped up. He looked down at the shirt he was wearing. It was the tight navy tee Kurogiri had gotten him. “This is not an accurate representation of my appearance. This shirt was a gift.”

“So, you normally advertise the tragic and awkward?”

“Yes. I don’t want people to think I’m cool. They’ll just be disappointed later.”

“I won’t be,” Shoto said seriously. “I think you’re amazing, but I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I won’t be disappointed. I promise.”

Izuku kissed him again, a quick, chaste peck on the lips. “I promise I’ll go slow.”

 

Magne smiled at the charm on the burner phone Kurogiri had given them. Dabi had put it there; it was the toy from his Happy Meal. It was a neurodivergent all-in-one toy, a Sanrio style octopus with a squishy head, fidget spinner legs and dimple pop suction cups.

He was cute, if a bit young. Not that she was looking for a relationship right now. She did not want to be tied down. But a casual fling…

Magne refocused on her work. Two percent of the Aldera Junior High students were quirkless, which was only slightly lower than the national average of three point eight percent. That averaged out to almost one quirkless student per two classes. The common misconception that the twenty percent of the population that was quirkless was distributed evenly between generations was somewhat baffling to her. As if anyone her age ever had four quirkless classmates at any one time. Her father had said that there had been at least one quirkless student in every class that he’d had, but she’d only had a quirkless classmate about half the time. There wasn’t a big drop in quirkless rates between the previous generation (hers) and the current one (only about point four percent), but it made a dramatic difference.

Each generation reduced quirklessness by about half, which meant that in the six years' worth of records she had to go through there were only five quirkless students. Adding in the kids with incredibly weak, ‘villainous’, and invisible quirks upped the numbers enough to spot a pattern. These kids were blamed for the bullying that was heaped on them. They were all labeled as disruptive, lying, and/or antagonistic toward the other students.

She wrote up several essays about victim blaming and bullying in schools, but it was Spinner who came up with the angle they needed to send the information viral. Aspiring heroes like Katsuki Bakugo were being taught that innocent bystanders – i.e. the civilians they were meant to protect – were deserving of scorn because they were weak. They were able to link the pattern to an old autobiography of an early quirkist, conspiracy-theory style.

“Hey, Dabi? Is that book any good?” she asked as the young man poured over the text, squinting at the pages.

He lifted his head and blinked a few times. The dramatic, if simplistic, red cover of Meta Liberation War smacked carelessly against the table. “Guy could have used a competent editor. He rants like a lunatic, and as far as I can tell, his message is ‘we shouldn’t regulate quirk usage because might makes right’. He tries to dress it up nicely. ‘Wielding one’s abilities freely should be a basic human right’ and ‘libration over suppression.’ But that leads to another of his problems: it’s all ‘liberation this’ and ‘liberation that.’ Get a thesaurus man.” The young man stretched and popped his back. “But it falls apart pretty quickly if you take quirks out of it.”

“How so?”

“Wielding one’s abilities freely should be a basic human right. Take us as an example. You’ve got a beefier frame than I do, so it stands to reason that you’d naturally hit harder than me, right?”

“I suppose,” she replied, her falsetto voice dipping an octave as she considered his words.

“So if we disagree and get into a fight and you win, that’s just you wielding your natural abilities freely. Now put quirks back into it, same fight, only,” he lifted his hand and ignited a brilliant blue flame along his long elegant fingers, “I win. That’s just me wielding my abilities freely, right?”

“But it isn’t just about fighting,” Spinner insisted.

“It only gets worse the further you spiral away from violence,” Dabi agreed. “Speed quirk users on the roads, not wearing safety gear; flying, for fucks’ sake. Jobs start hiring only people with the right quirk. Cops with strength quirks. Firefighters with water quirks. Suddenly you can’t flip burgers without a cooking-based quirk. If you think heroes are corrupt now, just imagine a world where your quirk determines your job. Wanna be a lawyer? Need an intelligence quirk or a charisma quirk. And the more powerful your quirk the higher your rank in society. Good luck with your window-washing career, Spinner. And Magne? Prepare to spend all day proving what biological sex people are, so they can make the best quirk marriages.” He practically growled the last two words. The book started to smolder.

Spinner grabbed it and patted the embers off the cover. “I don’t wanna pay for another copy if it’s that bad,” he complained.

“If he’s all about liberation, what makes you think he’s a fascist?”

“Partly the violent coup attempt but also the basic fact that like most powerful quirkists, Destro – ‘the grand commander’ – had a combat-oriented quirk; some kind of strength enhancement. Did he petition to be allowed to use his natural abilities to lift construction materials or bend steel barehanded? No, he used it to try and violently overthrow the government.”

“Isn’t that similar to what Stain is doing?” Magne asked.

“Stain is cleaning up the corruption and rot the system has produced, he’s goading those in power to make the necessary changes to improve the world, not trying to seize that power for himself,” Dabi explained.

“You certainly have a good grasp on the philosophies involved.” Magne scooted closer to him. “Help me with the phrasing of this argument; it needs to be passionate but pragmatic.”

“Yeah, sure. Spinner what do you think?”

“It’s a strong argument, but it could use some punching up. I know we sympathize with the actual victims here but maybe add in the failure of the teachers to do right by the bullies. I mean they are setting them up to be corrupt in the future. Second Place-kun got away with physical assault on a daily basis because he was ‘hero material.’ It’s disgusting.”

“There’s your passion and pragmatism.”

               

Izuku watched Yagi sleep, perfectly at ease with him up and in the room. His breathing was slow and even. His muscles were relaxed. Yagi was even drooling slightly. He had never seen the man so relaxed. The jig was not up yet, even after using his Shadow Bind in the battle. Izuku relaxed a bit too.

He lamented the vest, shirt, pants, and ties that were all sealed in Ziploc bags he’d got from the hotel. He knew Kurogiri wouldn’t be upset, but it had been a very nice outfit. Still, he was surprised that his sock garters had survived; more so, that Yagi hadn’t said anything about them; maybe he thought Izuku was trying to be posh, or didn’t know what they were for.

He packed them away, thankful that any blood on them wasn’t visible.  He had a flash of Sam’s empty eyes staring at him from the vault room floor, but the nausea sent him rushing to the bathroom and it was gone. He didn’t puke. He washed his face and stared at himself in the mirror.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there trying to memorize the stranger’s face. Telling himself that that was him; that that was Izuku Midoriya. The sink was dry; the hand towel he’d used was dry. Yagi was standing in the doorway with a concerned expression.

“Oh, do you need in here?”

“I can wait a minute or two. How you holding up, Izuku?”

He smiled at Yagi. It was thin and weak; a shaky smile that threatened to crumble and take his world with it. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t muster a lie, not even mindless platitudes; but at least it got that empty smile off his face. He shook his head.

Yagi stepped over to him and wrapped his long, wiry arms around him. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together.”

And Izuku believed him. He smiled again, shaky and trembling and broken by a sob, but honest and hopeful.

 

They were both a little melancholy as the day progressed. Visiting with Shield and Melissa was one of a few bright patches in a haze of grim moments. They spent some time just gazing at the tower as construction teams worked to repair it. Yagi pointed out the long grove down the side where Izuku had slowed his descent and the crater where he’d jumped off.

All Might and Endeavor had to give an official interview together just after lunch. Izuku hung out with Shoto and Fuyumi. He looped his arms around Shoto and rested his head on his shoulder and texted his mom while the two pros gave a rendition of events very similar to the official version. All Might added a few jokes at his own expense and Endeavor thanked several of the international heroes by name. Then the five of them walked around the shopping area grabbing last-minute souvenirs.

“Burnin’ will kill me if I don’t get her a coffee mug,” Endeavor grumbled half-heartedly.

“Mom wanted me to get her a little figurine of the tower,” Fuyumi added, not mentioning the six custom DSRs she’s picked up. She’d spent a little more per system than Izuku had, adding patterns to the cases. She had gone with a simple diagonal gradient in a gloss finish, with chrome Jet Black trim and logo, and a character from her favorite game for each of them. It was a tactics-based Lunar Gaia side game; Lost Melody. Other than the four or five characters that were intrinsic to the plot the characters were generic rpg classes. Her own was Coral Pink and Rose Gold with the healer, her mother’s Sky Blue and Arctic White with the summoner, Natsuo’s was Cobalt and Aborigine with the paladin, Shoto’s Cobalt and Burgundy with the knight, Endeavor’s was Jet Black and Slate Grey with the dragoon, and last one was Burgundy and Aborigine with the wizard.

Yagi bought them all tee shirts. Endeavor retaliated by getting totes with viewpoints from around the island. Izuku got an updated guidebook, for much cheaper than he could have ordered online. Slowly they started taking pictures of things, and almost acting like real tourists. They ate dinner together at a nice restaurant; Endeavor almost insisted on paying but Yagi told him it was All Might’s treat, so they ordered dessert.

Finally, the pair was alone on Yagi’s private plane. After their luggage was stowed, Yagi pulled Izuku into one of the large chairs. He tucked the boy’s head under his chin, wrapped his arms around him tightly, and held him. Izuku allowed it without protest or comment for a long time. He listened to the steady thud of Yagi’s heart.

Show me your heart, hero. Kurogiri and Aizawa-sensei’s voices blended in his head, but he pushed them both away. He was, probably for the first time, being shown the true heart of a hero. Izuku reached up and started petting one of Yagi’s long bangs.

Yagi nuzzled his hair in response. He murmured, “I thought I’d lost you,” against Izuku’s scalp.

Izuku stiffened in his arms. Yagi held him tighter. “I… I’m fine.”

“Izuku, no. You’re not fine. You’re alive, but you’re not fine. And-and that’s okay. Sometimes alive is enough. Hell, sometimes alive is all we get. I am so sorry I dragged you into this mess, and so, so very relieved that you are alive.”

Izuku relaxed into Yagi’s hold again, more for the older man’s comfort than his own. He idly returned the affection; petting his bangs or arm, squeezing his hand or shoulder. Anything he could do to give comfort without disrupting the hug. Internally his mind raced with all the reasons Yagi would hate him if he knew. I’m Stray!

Tears dripped down Izuku’s cheeks. He tried to hide it. This wasn’t about him or his feelings. Yagi needed him to be strong. He’d almost ruined everything. He’d almost lost a generations’ long struggle. He’d almost lost One for All.

“Fuck the quirk Izuku! You are so much more important. I almost lost you. Do you understand that?” He squeezed Izuku tight against his chest. “I don’t need you to be strong. I need you to be alive. To be here. To be with me. I had to do so much alone for so long, Mirai-kun had to fight to be let in. I think of Dave as a brother but I haven’t, can’t tell him about One for All. It terrifies me that the Yuuei staff knows. I can’t lose you, and I don’t want to abandon you like –” he cut off suddenly and was silent for several heartbeats. A choked sob broke free and he was babbling again. “Like Nana. Like Nana left me but I’m going to. It’s going to happen. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do. B-but you’ll have support. I’ll make sure. You won’t be alone. You won’t be alone. You won’t be alone.”

“I’m not alone,” Izuku said softly. “You’re here.” His words had no effect on the weeping man. He pulled back and cupped his face. “No, I mean it. Not-not like a metaphor. I’ve had these dreams. I. It’s not just the standard PTSD stuff. They interrupt that. You’re all fuzzy, or static-y. Blurry? But I know it’s you. And you’re not the only one. There are. I think she, I think your Nana is there too, but, but the others always keep their distance.”

“Wha… wait. I, I’ve had dreams like that too. After the tower, Nana woke me up to find you.”

“That was nice of her,” Izuku said wetly.

“Do you have these dreams often?”

“No. Just a couple of times. After the tower, you reached your hand out to me.”

Yagi took Izuku’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He smiled down at the boy. “I wish I could be here for you longer. I’m sorry.”

“Nighteye can’t always be right. What about when he was younger?”

“I suppose he must have been wrong at some point. He always wants more information, to be more accurate, but he says what he sees always comes to pass. It can be delayed, but not prevented.”

“Then I’m going to delay it until you’re a hundred.”

Yagi laughed and hugged him tightly. “We can try. Maybe I can take you to visit him at the end of the break.”

“Yeah, I’d like a few words with him.”

“Izuku.”

“I know. He was heartbroken. He’ll help. He’ll want to be wrong.”

“Yeah,” Yagi agreed. He wanted Nighteye to be wrong as well.

 

His mouth was set in a firm thin line as he watched her flit about her apartment. She picked up the floor and moved some furniture to better accommodate his wheelchair. Then she started cooking. It was just some grilled fish and steamed vegetables, nothing fancy. She talked to her cat while she busied herself, before finally handing the cuddly creature to him to keep it out of her way.

Tensei grabbed her arm as she stood up. “Did you hear me, Nemuri?”

“Yes,” she said her voice cracking. “I can’t force you to stay. I know you’re going through a lot, and I won’t make this about me. You’ve said your piece. I don’t agree, but… what can I do? What can I say to make you stay? What could I possibly say that wouldn’t be selfish and shallow? I don’t want to break up, Tensei. I’ll give you time and space, but I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“I’m never going to get better,” he said.

Nemuri put her hand over her heart. She nodded slowly. “It never goes away, losing someone. You learn to live with it.”

“I meant,” he gestured at his legs.

“If you think I care about that,” she replied, “then do leave. I date other heroes because civilians never understand the job or the danger. We risk everything for them. I’m not going to leave you because you paid the price. We’re all dodging the reaper’s blade. Just because you got nicked –” she turned around suddenly and dashed back into the kitchen. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Fuck. Shit.” Desperately she flipped the fish. It was a little burnt, but still salvageable.

“It's fine,” Tensei said calmly. “I don’t care that you can’t cook.”

“If that’s true, then stay.”

“You’ll grow to resent me. All the extra work. Never having kids. Or sex for that matter.”

Nemuri took the pan into the dining area and plated the two fish fillets. “Oh, my being horny on main is a problem for you, now?”

“No, I just… I can’t satisfy you anymore.”

“Why are good men such idiots?” she asked herself. To Tensei, she explained, “I’m good not having kids. I’m in my thirties and have had significant trauma to the abdomen. You only think you’ll be extra work because you’re still learning how to operate. As for sex, there’s more to a relationship than that, but also, there’s more to sex than dick. You can still get me off if that’s what you’re worried about. If it’s getting you off, the numbers are encouraging. Most men regain at least partial erectile function within two years of a spinal cord injury.”

The steamer chimed and she turned to get the vegetables.

“What if I can’t?”

“I own a vibrator, several in fact.”

“But…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tensei. If I need dick and you can’t provide it, I could always ask ‘Zashi or Sho. Unless you’ve changed your mind about that bothering you.”

The firm thin line returned. “Is there a reason the three of you don’t just hook up?”

“I love the boys, I love fucking the kinky bastards, but I’m not in love with them. Does that make any sense?”

“Not really,” he admitted. He wheeled his chair up to the table, pushing the provided chair out of the way.

“Ah, ah, ah. The doctor said you should only stay in the chair for two to four hours. If the dining chair isn’t comfortable, they can be replaced. And I can get you a pillow from the couch. And after dinner we’re going to lay down and read, or watch TV.”

“I’m never going to get better,” he said.

“But you will learn to live with it.”

“What if I don’t?” he asked. He didn’t meet her eyes.

“Then I’ll buy a nurse’s uniform and take care of you forever.”

“Nemuri…”

“I’m not going anywhere. If you don’t want this to work out, you’ll have to be the one to end it.”

“It’s selfish of me to make you put up with all of this.”

“It is,” she agreed. “So stop trying to break up with me. So rude. Sho said you were an idiot. Don’t make me have to tell him he was right.”

Tensei smiled wryly. “Can’t have that.”

“Good, now, eat.”

Tensei had a little trouble transferring into the scoop-backed chair, but the thick-filled seat cushion was supportive and comfortable. The pair fell into a comfortable silence as they ate.

 

It was late Friday night when Inko heard Izuku’s keys in the lock. He was being escorted by a haggard-looking Yagi-san. She threw her arms around her son and dragged him into the living room while he was struggling to kick his shoes off. Yagi-san chuckled and Izuku blushed, but he returned the hug.

“I’m ...” he couldn’t say he was fine. “I wasn’t hurt at all, and Endeavor was with us the whole time.”

“That’s such a relief. I was scared even though I didn’t hear about it until after. Were you involved in the fight on the roof?”

“Not the fighting, but I did rescue someone.”

Yagi-san hesitated, seeming to hover on the edge of the moment; not wanting to interrupt the reunion. “Izuku.”

“Uh, well, two people.”

“Izuku,” he said softly.

“I was involved a little,” Izuku admitted slowly. “But just because his quirk was making obstacles.”

Yagi put his hand on Izuku’s shoulder.

“What, exactly, happened?” Inko asked.

Yagi shifted nervously. “Someone died.”

Inko paled. “Baby.” She hugged Izuku tightly.

“I didn’t know him,” Izuku reassured her.

“But you saw it? It happened in front of you?”

“Yeah…” He scuffed his foot against the carpet. “I’ll talk to Inui-sensei before the training camp, okay?”

“Okay, sweetie. I want you to know you can talk to me about anything. Even this.”

Izuku was quiet for a long moment. “I. Yeah, I know. It’s just. A lot.” He paused again, the details flooding his mind. None of it was things he could tell his mother; the blood, the brain, the fear, the helplessness. But his mouth had a habit of unbottling his trauma for him. “There was nothing I could do. I, I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t strong enough. I’m not good enough.” Tears slid down his cheeks.

His mother’s hug tightened and Yagi wrapped his long arms around both of them. He guided them down onto the couch and the pair just held Izuku while he cried. Both adults soothed and reassured him. They told him he was too young to be put through this, that even All Might fails, that they were there for him, that he was good enough. It was a short burst of desperate emotion, but the boy felt better, less numb, afterward; like drinking hot chocolate after coming in from the snow.

As Izuku’s sobs turned to sniffles, Yagi extracted himself and headed to the kitchen. He started the electric kettle and found the tea and cups in the cupboard. He smiled at the Mama Bear mug. Yagi stayed and sipped tea with them until Inko fell asleep on the couch.

“I’m sorry, Izuku,” she said as she headed to bed, “I know you need me right now. I wish I didn’t have to sleep.”

“Mom, it’s two in the morning. It’s fine. Get some rest, and tomorrow I can tell you about the fun stuff. Um, can, can Yagi stay until I get tired?”

Inko perked up at that. “Yes, of course. There are spare linens in the top of my closet, just a sec.” She disappeared into her room and quickly bustled back with an armload of pillows, sheets, and blankets. “We don’t have a spare futon, and the couch is a bit short but,” she smiled up at him with a watery expression he had seen far too often on Izuku’s face, “if you can stay, I think it would make both of us feel better.”

Yagi smiled back warmly. “Of course, I’d be hap– er, I’d be more than willing to.”

 

Hours later as the sun began to peak above the horizon, Izuku unpacked his bag. He hid the bloodied suit and gifts for the League, with a note not to open them without him, in his closet. He put the gifts and souvenirs for his friends and family on his desk. The rest of his dirty clothes went into the washing machine. Both copies of the I-island Expo guidebook were slid neatly on his shelf.

He set up the Holographic Photo Slide Show Displays, except the one going to Kuroi ba, on the shelf by the door. He loaded the blank one with pictures of his friends, teachers, and mom. He hadn’t realized how many pictures he’d been taking; Yagi at the diner, Bakugo on the beach, Todoroki in the cafeteria. Izuku smiled, he wasn’t alone anymore.

As he hadn’t packed much for the three-day trip, there wasn’t much unpacking to do, even including the souvenirs. Izuku sighed. It was too late to try to contact the League, not that he had a way to do so without the grey phone. Plus, Yagi was asleep on the couch.

He decided to start breakfast. Rice went into the steamer with chicken broth, garlic, and butter. He started three salmon flays and a rolled omelet to share. As the fish was grilling, he chopped a small salad – careful to remove the seeds of the tomato in Yagi’s portion – and sliced an avocado. It was a small, healthy meal.

The smell eased his mother into consciousness, and Yagi soon joined them; after folding the borrowed bedding and visiting the bathroom. While he barely had any rice, Yagi ate two sections of the rolled omelet and all of his fish.

“Your cooking has really improved this year,” Inko said.

Izuku smiled shyly. “Yeah, I’ve put a lot of work into it.” After they ate, Izuku popped into his room and grabbed the souvenirs and the gift-wrapped box for his mother. “Uh, here. I picked some stuff up at the expo. The bag is from Todoroki’s dad, and this is from Yagi.”

“That’s a gross exaggeration,” Yagi corrected. “I helped him pay for it, just a tiny bit so he wouldn’t go over budget. He picked it out on his own.”

Inko smiled indulgently at them as she unwrapped the pearly white box with the gold ribbon. “Oh, my. This is too much, boys. You shouldn’t have.”

Neither could help an ear-to-ear grin. Yagi pulled his out. It was matte red, like his phone, and the logo was gloss yellow. “Once Izuku gets you set up, I thought I could give you both my friend code.”

“That would be nice,” Inko replied with a nod.

Chapter 69: Home Sweet Home

After Yagi left, Izuku checked on the items in the closet. He was pleased to find the white suit, blue ties, and prepaid debit card were gone. The brown suit from his mother, his usual debit card, and his phone were in their place.

He texted Kurogiri, See you tonight.

I’ll meet you in the park.

His other phone pinged with a text alert. Checking it, he smiled. Todoroki was reminding him about their mall date. With everything that had happened, he’d forgotten.

“Hey, mom?” he asked entering the living room.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“What were your plans for the day?”

“Nothing much. Why?”

“Shoto wants to go to the mall to pick up some things for the summer training camp.” He looked at her hopefully.

Inko was quiet for a long moment, but when she saw Izuku’s smile start to waiver she relented. “As long as you’re back for dinner.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Izuku quickly replied, Yes!!! <3♥↋>

 

Yagi’s hotel room was sweltering when he got back that afternoon. He was glad he was in just a polo and cargo shorts having learned before his trip that opening the windows would just fill the room with smoke and steam from the restaurant next door. He pulled the cord to turn the light on, and sighed as he spotted the little telltale signs that housekeeping had been in while he was gone; the floor was freshly vacuumed, the bathroom door was open, and one drawer was shut smoothly, whereas before he couldn’t quite fit all his pants in it. It was incredible service for such an inexpensive place.

Yagi tugged the cord for the fan twice in rapid succession, skipping the highest speed. Bright pink glitter showered down over him, the floor, and the bed. Yagi froze for a few heartbeats. He wiped his nose and mouth with his shirt, somewhat ineffectively, and tried to breathe as little as possible as he texted Naomasa-kun. He pulled a tank top out of his luggage to cover his face.

Naomasa arrived ten minutes later with two officers in tow. Each of the men was covered with a ventilator and a plastic rain slicker as well as the usual latex gloves. Samples were taken from around the room, and Officer Tamagawa cleared the bathroom. He came out with his ventilator off and a huge grin on his face.

“I think they got the wrong room,” he said, thumbing towards the bathroom. “It’s clear in there, but take a look at the mirror.”

Naomasa poked his head in and chuckled. “Good thing we packed light. Looks like it’s just a jilted ex hitting the wrong room. It’s not Blush, either,” he pulled his ventilator off and inhaled deeply, “it doesn’t smell like cinnamon and peppermint.”

“Thank goodness,” Yagi replied finally lowering the tank top. “I was scared that my pranksters had finally gone too far.”

“Hold on. Someone’s been pranking you?”

“Yes,” he answered. “It started in late May. The week the Yuuei students were doing their internships. It was small things, but daily at first. Cling film, or a party popper on the door, bubble wrap under the Tami mat, under the toilet seat, glitter in my morning paper, at least that time it wasn’t pink. After that, it happened on and off for a few weeks. The glitter bomb ‘apology’ card was the final straw, and I moved out. This is the first thing that’s happened here, but I can’t believe it’s not the same person or people.”

“Can you recall all the pranks?”

He shook his head. “They left some suggestive vegetables a few times, filled the apartment with smiley face balloons, put Vaseline on all the doorknobs and drawer handles, they TPed my rental truck. Oh, and they put cameras in my apartment, at least twice.”

“Okay, Sansa, Kogami, let’s search the room for cameras and other pranks. Dust everything for prints.”

 

He had thought it was going to be a date, but the whole class was there. Still, he held hands with Todoroki, tried a sip of his smoothie, and they got their nails painted together at a little kiosk. His were white and red, while Todoroki’s were green. They both got a clear heart on their index fingers.

Yaoyorozu, Jiro, and Kaminari had their nails done as well. Kaminari’s were a dark purple with a striking yellow electrocardiogram running across them; that Izuku admired greatly. Jiro got black and a clear sparkle with complex music notes and symbols; Todoroki told her they looked elegant. Yaoyorozu’s was a more expensive, but simple look that faded from a matte black to a deep red.

“I have no idea what to get,” Jiro complained looking around the brightly colored outdoor mall.

Yaoyorozu smiled. “This is actually one of the things Uwabami taught Kendo and I. Let’s see… Carry-on should be twenty-two by fourteen by nine inches. She recommended using a backpack. Does everyone have one?”

Todoroki and Kaminari nodded. Izuku and Jiro shook their heads.

“I only have two bulky backpacks and a full-sized suitcase,” Izuku confessed.

“Tiny purse,” Jiro added.

“That’s a good place to start, then,” Yaoyorozu said. She led them into a sporting goods store. “ID and money aren’t going to be big concerns. Spare phone, spare costume either. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t hurt to pack a small wallet just in case. Civilian clothes then: shoes, three pairs of socks, five pairs of underwear, one or two bras, two pairs of pants, a sweater or jacket, two tops, one long and one short-sleeved, and pajamas; with a preference toward cotton and other natural fibers as they tend to wrinkle less. Lastly, travel-sized toiletries: toothbrush, toothpaste, two-in-one, soap, hand sanitizer, feminine products, and sunscreen. If you have room: a reusable water bottle, something for entertainment that doesn’t take batteries, and headphones.”

“That’s not a lot,” Jiro said as she examined the bags.

“That’s the point of a go-bag,” Yaoyorozu said. “It’s doing the most with the least, in a hurry.”

“That makes sense,” Jiro replied with a nod. She grabbed a black teardrop shaped sling bag with neon pink zippers. It came with a matching water bottle.

Izuku was enamored with a travel duffel/backpack. It came in black, slate grey, pale army green, and a soft blue. There was a laptop pocket on the inside, internal mesh dividers, side access, stow-able straps, an expandable laundry pocket, and the whole thing was waterproof and weather resistant.

They grabbed a massive package of wool socks, matching travel kits with a folding brush/comb, three bottles, a spray bottle, a soap pump, two small flat jars, a toothbrush, a tiny spatula, and a funnel. The sets came in every color of the rainbow at least twice, plus pink, cyan, white, black and three shades of grey.

Yaoyorozu’s eyes lingered on Todoroki as he selected the dark green set. Izuku smiled and filed the information away for later. Jiro would blush and stammer any time Yaoyorozu complimented her and Kaminari openly flirted with them both. Izuku found it all to be very pleasant. He felt content walking around the mall with the four of them.

Izuku decided to make a bit of mischief while Jiro and Kaminari were picking out music. He gently cupped the back of Todoroki’s head and pulled them in together. His lips brushed Todoroki’s just briefly. With the other hand, he snapped a photo. As he started to pull back, Todoroki leaned in and kissed him properly. Izuku moaned softly.

“Sorry,” Todoroki said softly, their lips brushing again. “You probably wanted to send that to my dad.”

“Who?”

Todoroki smiled. “Cute.”

“Mm. More of that.” Izuku nuzzled his cheek.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Izuku hugged him.

“Hey, you two! You’re in public,” Jiro called.

“Damn it,” Izuku grumbled. He sent the picture to Endeavor, followed by a quick text. Sorry wrong person.

Endeavor’s reply was to, Be more discreet in public and try not to ruin my son’s career before it’s even started.

Izuku and Shoto were then dragged to another store to pick out swim trunks. Amid everyone looking for things to try on, Izuku managed to be more or less alone with Yaoyorozu. After a quick poke around with his shadow, he moved to stand beside her. “So, um. Okay, Shoto and I are both really socially awkward, and I haven’t said anything to him because I don’t want to give him the wrong impression, but you like him right?”

Yaoyorozu froze beside him. “I, uh, well, that is to say. I would never –”

“That’s not what I asked,” he said calmly. “Do you like him?”

“We’re good friends,” she said firmly.

“Oh, okay. Well, in that case, Jiro has a crush on you.”

“What?” She blushed. “No way. She’s dating Denki!”

“If you don’t have feelings for Shoto, you’re free to pursue Jiro. She has a crush on you.” He paused. “Well, my information may not be accurate, because you look at, agree with, and fawn over Shoto in the same way, but you just like him as a friend. Eh, forget I said anything. I’m no good at reading people, I guess. I’ll stick to quirks.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he turned to leave.

“Wait.” Yaoyorozu gently grabbed his arm. “I do like him, but the two of you are dating.”

“Ah. Good. Right. So, if given the opportunity, as in it wouldn’t affect my relationship with him, would you like to go on a date with him?”

“If the two of you weren’t dating?” she asked.

“Oh,” he said dejected. “Only if we weren’t dating.”

“It’s not as if I want you to break up,” she whispered. “I like both of you. I want you to be happy.”

Izuku straightened his shoulders and beamed at her. “You like both of us?”

“I, um. I think this conversation just took a weird turn.”

“No, this was where it started.” He grinned.

“This conversation is over.”

His grin fell. “I’m sorry. I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to. I, it’s just.” He shook his head and took a step back. “Sorry.”

“Midoriya, i-it’s just weird. Most people aren’t okay with the idea of someone else liking their boyfriend.”

“Oh?” He shrugged. “Forget it then. If it makes you uncomfortable, I… My gym friends are all weird. They said if we talked about it, it would be okay. Most of their relationships end because someone wanted somebody else. Sorry.” He was paraphrasing and summarizing what Kurogiri and Toga had told him, but it was basically the truth. The thought struck him that Tomura had never mentioned dating or relationships.

“Oh.” Yaoyorozu was quiet for a moment. “He’s very in love with you.”

“I know,” Izuku replied happily. “That wasn’t the question, either.”

“I’m not sure I understand the question, then.”

“We’re teenagers, statistically our relationships won’t last and from a developmental standpoint, we should gain as much experience as possible.”

She gave him a concerned look.

“I super don’t mean sex. I mean, that’s, yeah, inevitable, but let’s just talk about dating and emotions. Basically, if you wanted to talk about going out on a date with Shoto, I’d be willing to discuss it.”

“But you have no intention of breaking up with him?”

“None.”

“So, what we’d be dating him at the same time?”

“Yeah, I mean, if he agreed.”

“I… I’ll think about it?”

Izuku smiled at her. It was bright, warm, and accepting. “Take all the time you need. I won’t bring it up again, but the lines of communication are open. I can answer most general questions you might have.”

She bit her lip. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Izuku nodded at her and then moved to the dressing rooms to see what his boyfriend had picked out to swim in.

“I don’t see why I can’t just wear my school trunks. It is a school trip,” Todoroki was saying to Kaminari as he modeled a pair of white shorts with light blue palm leaves on them.

“Yeah, that’s one way to look at it,” the blond replied. “On the other hand, your boyfriend will be there.”

“We’ve changed in the same locker room.”

“Not the point man.” Kaminari shook his head.

Izuku chuckled. “While I appreciate your help, I want Shoto to be comfortable. Try something a bit longer, Babe.”

“Babe?”

“Do you not like it?” Izuku asked sheepishly.

Todoroki contemplated it for a moment. “No, it’s okay.” He tried on a pair that faded from midnight blue to emerald green with black shark silhouettes all over it.

“Nice,” Izuku said with a lascivious grin. “Don’t you agree, Yaomomo?”

“Ah,” she stammered. “Yes, they are very, um, striking.”

Todoroki blushed and purchased them.

 

Izuku was home in time to help Inko cook dinner. He made some gyoza and yakitori to go with the udon noodles she had bought.

“I never thought to put orange juice in teriyaki sauce,” Inko commented as he glazed the meat.

Izuku shrugged. “Kuu taught me. It’s a flexible recipe; all you really need is garlic, ginger, soy sauce, and some kind of sugar or honey. Everything else is optional, but pineapple and/or orange juice adds a nice tang. Mustard, black pepper, or pepper flakes add a nice kick. Onion powder or green onions, rice vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, or sesame oil can deepen the flavor. It’s just about getting the proportions right.”

Inko nodded. “You know, I’d like to meet Kuu, and your other gym friends sometime.”

Izuku’s head whipped up and he looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights for a second. “Uh, sure. I’ll let them know tonight, maybe we can arrange something for the end of break.”

“That would be lovely.”

 

Rei Todoroki tossed and turned in her sleep; the nightmare repeating. “And Shoto, that child’s left side sometimes feels unbearable to me. All I can see is his father. I can’t raise him anymore. I want to run away from this life.” “Mom? What are you saying?” “You’re guilty too.”

 

Izuku dawdled in the interior of the octopus play structure. He caressed the edges of Kurogiri’s warpgate. He rubbed his face along the misty rift in space, breathing in the scent of his love, and the bar as it wafted though. He walked through slowly, running his hands along the inside.

He stepped out in front of Kurogiri, who wrapped his arms around him tightly. “God, I missed you.”

“Ugh, same.” He nuzzled Kurogiri’s arms.

“That’s great,” Tomura said dryly. “When are we opening our presents?”

“Oh, yeah, just let me get dressed.” Izuku pulled Kurogiri with him towards the stairs. “Be right back.”

“You have ten minutes, then I’m barging in,” Tomura warned.

“Thank you!”

Kurogiri chuckled earthily into his ear. “Then, let’s not waste it.” He warped them downstairs.

Izuku pulled him onto the bed, relishing the weight of his lover on top of him.

“We only have ten minutes,” Kurogiri said into his ear. He helped Izuku get his tee shirt off and sat on the boy’s thighs just staring at him.

Izuku ran his fingers up and down Kurogiri’s sides, trailing teasingly along the bottom hem of his vest.

“Mmm. We really should get you dressed; we’re going to have visitors later.”

“Boo. I hate Stain.”

“It’s not him.”

“That’s something at least.”

Kurogiri slid off the bed and grabbed Izuku’s costume. His touch lingered as he helped Izuku put on each piece. He pulled Izuku’s feet into his lap one at a time to lace his boots for him. He scritched his scalp while rubbing in the black hair dye. He kissed Izuku’s neck before securing his collar. “Oh, Love, I’d forgotten, do you want me to take it off?”

“No. It’s. It’s grounding right now. I’m fine.” Izuku leaned up and kissed Kurogiri. It was like their first kiss all over again. Kurogiri’s hand came up to grip his jaw. The warmth of Kurogiri’s lips against his own made him moan. The not-wet-but-not-dusty tickle of his mist pulled into Izuku’s lungs with each breath. The simple act of intimacy seemed to wash away his worries. He was loved. He loved Kurogiri in return. His shadow curled around them; mingling with his mist.

“You two better have pants on!” Tomura called before opening the door.

Izuku groaned. “Right, okay.” He pulled away, though his hands and shadow still clung to Kurogiri. “Where’d you put them?”

“Wait, you already sent them over?” Tomura griped as Kurogiri warped the gifts to them. “I could have been playing the DSR all day.”

“No,” Izuku said chuckling. “I had a hard time picking colors, so I wanna see your reactions.”

“Told you,” Toga said pushing passed Tomura and flopping on the bed. “Give.”

Izuku grabbed the deep red box with the black satin bow and handed it to her. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’ll like it.”

Tomura grabbed the purple one with black and white ribbon, possibly thinking it was for Kurogiri, “I don’t care what it looks like,” and opened it while Toga squeed about how perfect the color was.

“It’s like blood and pomegranate seeds!”

“Oh my god, Stray, it is perfect.” Tomura held up the high gloss aborigine DSR with the transparent jet-black logo and trim. “Thank you, I love it!”

“Uh, yeah,” Izuku’s expression shifted from disappointment to fondness, “I’m glad. I had a few backup options just in case. Here, Kurogiri, open yours.”

Kurogiri hugged him tightly as he slid the lid off the black box. “Oh, that is pretty. I’m not usually one for electronics, but this is very nice.”

“Who are you giving the backups to?” Toga asked.

“Shinso and Mei.”

“They’ll be fun to play with,” she replied with a grin.

“Be nice, my mom has one too.”

“Mama Bear is going to love Animal Crossing,” Tomura said. He was deftly navigating the set-up menu. “Hey, Stray, this is pretty generous. I know it must have been tough selecting the preloaded games, but there’s enough on this e-gift card to get three more triple-A titles.”

Izuku frowned. “I didn’t… oh! It must have been Yagi. He, uh, actually paid for them.”

“Well, that was nice of him,” Kurogiri said. “I feel bad about mismatching his socks, now.”

“You guys pranked him? I thought he was in a hotel.”

“He is. Or probably was.”

“Okay, let’s start a town together! This is fun.”

“We still need to introduce Stray to the new members,” Kurogiri said. “They should be calling soon.”

“Right,” Toga said sitting up. Her demeanor shifted as she began filling him in on the new recruits and their quirks.

 

When Izuku returned on Sunday morning, Inko suggested they take a day trip to Tokyo. While on the hour-and-a-half-long train, Inko was trying to plan activities. “What about the Tokyo Sky Egg?”

Izuku just chuckled at her. “Or the National Museum of Nature and Science? It’s only, like, three stories.”

“Oh, Izuku, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking!”

“It’s okay,” he said with a smile, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the strap for standing passengers. “So, we could grab lunch in the museum lounge, or eat nearby.”

“There is a Hard Rock Café at the station,” Inko suggested. “But we might have to go there for dinner; I’ve heard it can take the whole day to see everything in the museum. I’d like to get pictures at the pagoda in Ueno Park, first though.”

Izuku nodded. “That sounds cool, actually.”

 

As soon as they got into the museum, Izuku made a beeline for the 360-degree theater. He called excitedly to his mother, who quickly joined him in line. The six-minute film was of the deep sea. The eerie darkness and ambient sounds seemed to creep some of the other attendees out, but Izuku was thrilled. The walkway was only twenty-one feet from the seamless spherical screen in all directions. The screen was forty-two feet in diameter or approximately one millionth of the diameter of the Earth.

The footage was captured by an unmanned deep-sea exploration drone. The sea floor was a greenish-brown sludge and was barren except for the nearly clean skeleton of a blue whale, being devoured by a swarm of octopi and eels. About halfway through a huge crab rose out of the sediment and snatched one of the smaller octopi.

Above, bio luminescent plankton dotted the screen like slowly drifting stars. Two enormous jellyfish drifted by, entangled. They were ethereal and vibrant in the lonely darkness, their tendrils glowing in a rainbow of bright colors. Soon after a cloud of yellow that looked like it was made up of tissue paper and tulle swam passed, each undulating stroke like the blooming of a flower and the settling of a ball gown after a stiff breeze. Like colored fish and mollusks orbited around it, searching for scraps of food.

The short video was accompanied by a soft and friendly narration.  Each sea creature was named and the engineers and scientists behind the drone were credited. They were told that it was edited together from more than a thousand hours of footage, as the deep sea is vast and sparsely populated.

The exit was on the opposite side, but let them out next to the Foucault pendulum and the stairs to the exhibits on the first floor. The temporary exhibit was on the early science and experimentation on quirks in Japan. Izuku took a picture of every placard in the exhibit; after reading them of course.

The first known quirk, Luminescence, was connected to the user’s emotions; the happier he was the brighter the light. The ‘Mother of Quirks’,  Syua Yotsubashi, was a fierce activist cut down before she could make a brighter future for her son. A map of the early quirk g-nome sat next to a placard about the theory that quirks were the next evolutionary step in human development. It also debunked the common myth that quirked people lack a second joint in their pinky toe because of their ‘superior’ or ‘streamline’ evolution. Forty-four percent of the pre-quirk population already lacked this joint and many quirked people still had the joint.

Inko was fascinated by the statistics of unknown quirks. If a quirk was not present at birth, or obvious due to mutation, it likely went unknown by anyone but family in the first two recognized generations of quirk users. Most of the medical information gathered about quirks at this time was from dead quirk users whose bodies were either seized or donated to the scientific community, or criminals who agreed to undergo experimentation for a lighter sentence.

The exhibit was careful to focus on the science and not stray into the crime and vigilantism that led to the rise of the current hero system. At the exit, there was an old, yellowed newspaper article, with a photo. In the background was a smile that sent chills down Izuku’s spine. The headline read, ‘Meta Abilities Registration Act Passed.’ He took a photo and plastered on a smile, not noticing that the date made the man too old to be a second-generation quirk user like Sensei.

There were two exhibits on each of the three floors in the Japan wing of the museum. The rest of the first floor was dedicated to techniques used to observe nature. Microscopes, telescopes, clocks, and seismographs dominated the four corners of the room. Celestial globes, terrestrial globes and star maps dating back to the Edo period were displayed in the first section. A timeline of seismographs stretched around the next corner; with examples from ancient to new. There was an interactive rumble pad that combined a safety quiz with a demonstration of how accurate the various earthquake detectors were. The clocks and watches section was smaller; consisting only of a display on Wadokei and a timeline of the modernization of the clock industry. The microscope section was also small, but there was a replica of each model on display so you could see how well they worked.

The second floor covered the Japanese peoples’ early history in one exhibit and plants and animal’s adaptations and distributions in Japan in the other. The third floor was split between fossils, and geology and climate. The plesiosaur skeleton that hung from the ceiling was about fifteen feet long. There was an entire wall of ammonite fossils; including one that was nine feet tall.

As they headed down the stairs to the lounge, Izuku caught a glimpse of a middle-aged man with light hair and a bit of a gut. The bang of the handgun left his ears ringing. The subtly scent of spent gunpowder filled his nose.  His heart was pounding in his chest, blood rushed in his ears. Izuku struggled to control his breathing as something in his chest tightened.

He was no longer at the museum with his mother, but rather back in the vault on I-island; pinned to the wall, with his eyes locked on the lifeless gaze of Sam Abraham.

Another scent filtered in, pulling him from his waking nightmare; a blend of rose, jasmine, and vanilla with a clean citrus finish. His mother’s perfume. Izuku’s eyes focused and his heart rate slowed to normal. Inko had pulled him to one of the benches and was petting his hair as she murmured variations of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘you’re safe’ in his ear.

“Sorry,” he said softly. He stayed put, not trusting himself to keep calm just yet.

“It’s alright, baby,” she replied soothingly. “Do you want to go home now?”

Izuku slowly pulled back. He considered the offer carefully. “No,” he decided. “We should at least grab food, and I think I’ll be alright after that. Um, but we could play it by ear.” He gave her an impish grin. “My recovery time is incredible.”

“Okay, but you tell me if you need to leave, understand?”

“Yeah.”

They stopped for lunch and a rest in the lounge. Izuku ordered a curry bowl with a pork cutlet and miso soup, both were safe, comforting options. Inko got the deluxe set because it wasn’t that spendy and came with a salmon salad and wagyu beef hot pot.

“Try a bite,” she offered, setting a piece of meat on his plate.

“Oh, uh, sure,” he said, a light blush crept across his features as he was reminded of the food sharing he did with Toga, Tomura, and – mostly – Kurogiri. “This curry is actually really good, too.” He pushed the plate towards her so she could sample it. “I feel better,” he said with a soft smile. “If you’re up to it, I’d like to check out the other gallery.”

“I haven’t been working out every morning for nothing, Izuku; of course, I’m up to it.”

The Global Gallery was much the same in theme but with three sections per floor. On the lowest basement floor were the tools to observe the natural world, a selection of relevant Japanese scientists, and an exhibit on the cosmos. The next floor contained a timeline of evolution – with fossil examples – and a separate section on human evolution. An exhibit on dinosaur evolution and a temporary exhibit about how fossils are made, discovered, excavated, cataloged, and stored were on the last subfloor. The ground floor boasted a timeline of all history that wrapped around the whole hall, while the interior exhibits focused on biodiversity and adaptations. The second floor focused on science and technological developments. The third floor was all about eco-friendly technologies and the impact of humans on the environment, and a play area for younger kids to do some hands-on learning. On the roof were a small herb garden and a lovely sky deck. A lovely sky deck that was completely surrounded by ten-foot-tall glass walls.

“This is nice,” Izuku said.

Inko nodded. “It is. We should get out and do things like this more often.”

Chapter 70: Not Out of the Woods

Yagi hesitated outside of Yamada and Aizawa’s apartment building. The sun had barely crested the horizon. The streets were still mostly empty. He had two neatly wrapped boxes and a bag of souvenirs under one arm. He fidgeted nervously as he tried to decide if he was going to tell them about Izuku. He started pacing on the sidewalk; his train of thought turning almost in time with his steps.

He owed it to Aizawa to be honest with him after the anger he’d directed towards the man. While Aizawa-kun might rightly never forgive him, he still needed to make amends for his rash actions. Especially since Aizawa had been right, Izuku was Stray.

However, he still owed his successor protection and guidance. It was his fault that monster’s attention was brought to the boy in the first place; and while he was defenseless and dying (in part due to his negligence), unable to give even a token protest. He should talk to Izuku first, try to gauge where his loyalties really lay. See if he could be persuaded to act on the side of justice.

That would be very difficult, and dangerous. Izuku would likely give up One for All if he found out they knew. Then he’d be useless to All for One, and he’d likely be turned into a monster like Nomu. His position was very vulnerable. He was as much a hostage as he was a pawn. Izuku wasn’t a villain, he was a kid in a difficult situation. This could ruin his life. And every decision was critical.

Aizawa could expel him, or turn him in.

But he couldn’t keep this a secret. It would be irresponsible.

Aizawa might not have a terrible reaction; he genuinely wanted the best for his students. Izuku could use all the help he could get, after all. Aizawa might have some insight on how to help him without tipping their hand. Izuku would need to trust them to get through this.

Could he expose Izuku to that risk, though? Nana and Gran Torino had barely trusted the Yuuei principal at the time, and Nezu had only been let in on the secret because he’d figured it out on his own. Letting the other teachers know had been a rash decision on his part, fueled by the need to get Izuku into the hero course. He was already having doubts about it. There was a leak after all.

That might end up meaning they had to leave Yuuei; which would just isolate them both further.

Still, Yagi wanted to do what was best for Izuku, to support him and guide him down a difficult and rocky path. And Yuuei’s resources and skilled staff would be valuable tools to that end. Not to mention the connection to Izuku’s peers, who might be the key to guiding him back to the light.

Except, Izuku wasn’t the only teen at risk. The League had attacked the school already, and Izuku had fought by their side. He’d given orders to maim the students. He’d dragged Bakugo, a boy he theoretically loved like a brother, across the broken concrete like a cheese grater. He’d used him as a hostage. He’d face All Might and Eraserhead fearlessly, mercilessly, willingly.

Izuku had leaped off a two-hundred-story tower, with no plan, and after he’d fallen twice because of All Might, to save him. He’d used his shadow quirk to heave him back onto the tower. He’d snuggled into Yagi’s chest and passed out. He was just a child. A helpless, traumatized child caught in the middle of a war Yagi should have finished.

“Whoa,” Yamada said, darting out of his way to avoid being plowed into. “You’re looking grim today. Didn’t get any rest on your trip?”

Yagi made a startled, half-choked sound in the back of his throat. “Ah, um. No, not really. Is. Has Aizawa-kun left already? I, um, I need to talk to him. Well, both of you. I. Fuck. No never mind. It’s not. I mean it will keep.” He ran his free hand through his hair. “I got you some souvenirs.”

“It’s okay, big guy. We can take whatever it is slowly. But, yeah, Sho already left with the kids. Don’t worry, Snipe went with him. Anyway, come on up, I could use the company,” Yamada said brightly. “So, did you find an apartment before you left?”

“No, I’m staying in a hotel.”

“Yagi,” he chastised as he used a keycard to unlock the door.

“I know, I know,” Yagi replied placatingly. “It’s just taking some time.”

“I wish you and Sho could just patch things up.” Yamada sighed. “We could offer you our spare room.”

Yagi ducked his head. “Yeah, he said something about that before we, uh, I. The event,” Yagi said softly.

As he punched the code in to unlock the elevator, Yamada joked, “You can’t have another bomb to drop about Midoriya.”

Yagi didn’t reply as he followed him. The elevator ride was awkward but brief.

Yamada paled as he unlocked the door with both the key card and a different four-digit pin. “He’s okay, right? I mean the news said there was a casualty, but that was an I-islander. There were some injuries though. Oh god, what did that reckless kid get up to?”

“He saved my life.”

The sentence hung in the air as Yamada closed the door behind them. Yagi slipped his shoes off and shuffled awkwardly into the living room while Yamada removed his boots. Yamada practically pushed him onto the couch. “Spill. The tension is killing me.”

Yagi briefed him about the incident; the attack, the fight, the fall. He only faltered a little as he described Izuku risking his life to toss him back to the top of the tower. He could be forgiven for holding back about feeling the slightly cool touch of a shadow on his back. After all, he could have been just imagining things, at that point.

“Shit,” Yamada said. “Midoriya has fall trauma. Is he okay?”

“He’s… coping,” Yagi said. “God, I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” Yagi sat forward and rubbed his hands across his face. Tears rimmed his eyes as he looked at Yamada. “I…”

“When did you eat last?”

“I, um. I’m not hungry.”

“Not what I asked. With no stomach, you don’t get hungry.”

“I… I had breakfast with Izuku and his mother, yesterday. Went back to the hotel, oh, and Naomasa-kun took me out to dinner at about nine. He insisted since they weren’t ready to release my room yet. They probably will later today, though.”

“Detective Tsukauchi? Why are the cops searching your hotel room?”

“Oh, ah. My pranksters followed me, we think. It, uh, it might be a case of mistaken identity, but that would be a colossal coincidence.”

“Right, you’re staying here.”

“But Aizawa-kun –”

“Wouldn’t want you attacked or killed. So. I’m ordering from this new place that just opened up down the street, is there anything you want?”

Yagi shook his head. “I don’t want anything.”

“I’ll order you the French omelet, then.” He glanced at Yagi. “It’s good, Sho tried it last week. It’s made with spinach and mushrooms, and it’s so creamy.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. You need to eat more regularly.”

“Everything is too much and I just want it to stop.”

Yamada froze for a split second. He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I hear ya’. You need a few days to unwind. No problem. Leave everything to me, Yagi. You are going to be fed and pampered so you can sit back and relax.” He pulled his phone out and texted one-handed while setting up the DVD player with the other hand. “Do you like American action movies? Or is that too close to work? Eh, I put on a couple of brainless comedies.”

“I should go, I don’t want to be a bother and Aizawa-kun probably doesn’t want me here.”

“Lies. I just texted Sho, and he said not to let you stay in a hotel, unless Tsukauchi says the hotel thing isn’t related to the pranks at you’re old place. And it’s no bother, I want someone to watch English movies with! Sho lets me put them on, but he doesn’t actually watch them with me.” Yamada pouted at him. “Please stay, Yagi. I can use you as an excuse to order take-out and just veg. My ADHD-Anxiety brain won’t let me otherwise.”

“I… fine,” he caved to Yamada’s puppy-dog eyes, “but I’m paying for all the food and snacks.”

Yamada grinned. “Okay.”

 

Shota Aizawa loathed having to work so early. It meant cutting his patrol short and skipping his morning nap, so he was always extra grouchy. The last of his students had arrived ten minutes early, and most of the third years were there as well, but class 1-B was nowhere to be seen yet. He shrugged and addressed his students anyway.

“Now that you’ve finished up your first semester at Yuuei High, it’s time for summer vacation to officially begin.” He paused. “However,” he continued in an ominous tone, “don’t think these will be months of rest for you heroes in the making. At this camp, we’ll push you to go beyond your limits. You’re aiming to become ‘plus ultra’.”

“Yes, sir!” they chorused.

“Snipe and the third years will be joining us.” He didn’t elaborate further.

Instead, he let them mingle and chat until Maki, who was assigned to drive for them, showed up. Kan, his driver, and class 1-B trailed along not far behind.

“I heard some of class A is taking extra courses, does that mean that they actually failed the final exam?!” Monama shouted as he approached.

A murderous look flashed across Midoriya’s face and he strode over to the boy while he continued to degrade class A.

“That must be so embarrassing! Especially since you’re supposed to be so much better than my class! All of you must be wallo–”

Midoriya reached the loudmouth before class B’s rep, Kendo, did. He jerked the boy out of her reach and brought his face close to his own.

Shota moved closer to the pair to make sure his volatile student didn’t go too far. He noted that Togata did the same.

“Shut your mouth.” An almost electric buzz filled the suddenly still and heavy air in the bus terminal. Everyone was looking at Midoriya as he spoke softly, but clearly. “You don’t get to talk about who’s the ‘better’ class until you’ve been dropped from four stories breaking your ankle. Or been grated over broken concrete like the last little bit of cheese. Or burned the skin off your hands while carrying a passed-out classmate. Or electrocuted to the point of your heart stopping. Or nearly drowned. Or murdered by a goddamned psychopath. They have been through a lot, and you will show them some common fucking courtesy, you insignificant little –”

“That’s enough,” Yaoyorozu said softly, placing her hand over Midoriya’s. “We all cope in our own ways.”

“Fine.” He released Monama and turned back to his new classmates. “What works?”

“Teamwork!”

 

Yamada only left Yagi alone for a few minutes while he meet the delivery guy at the front door, but he still texted him on the way back up. I gave him a 15% tip, is that okay?

It’s fine. I’ve got more money than I can spend, honestly.

Smart, good-looking, rich, and humble. You really are the whole package. ;)

Stop, you have a husband.

And you’ve been on a date with us both.

That was before.

“You know Sho wouldn’t mind, right?” he asked as he came through the door. “I mean this absolutely does not have to be anything sexual, but Sho literally wouldn’t care if I fucked the delivery guy as long as I’m safe.”

“That’s a lot of food.”

“I’d call him outside of work hours, Yagi. But don’t think you can change the subject, that easily. Sho might need some time, but he likes you, too.”

“Not after…” He trailed off, letting Yamada draw his own conclusions. 

“Yes, after everything, if we’re all willing to put in the work.”

“In all seriousness, that is a lot of food.”

“I didn’t wanna go downstairs more than once. Everything will either keep or reheat well. Here’s your French-style omelet with spinach, mushrooms, and Boursin Cheese. It’s so good. Try it! I got myself some soufflé pancakes with an obscene amount of whipped cream and mixed berries if you want a few bites. It’s totally big enough to share. And just so Sho doesn’t bug me about not eating right, I got a protein: a scrambled eggs and ham bowl.” He opened the fridge to store some of his haul. Five brightly colored bento boxes greeted him. “Oh, no. I forgot to pack Sho’s punishment bentos. I hope Nezu doesn’t hold this against him. I’ll text Matsushita-san to let him know.”

“Punishment bentos?”

“Yeah, he’s getting a cutesy bento for lunch every day, for the rest of the year, so he’ll remember to ask for help when he needs it. And he’s doing community service, so much so that he’s taken an extra day off of patrolling to help cover it. Inko Midoriya is a formidable woman.”

“Oh.” He was quiet as he ate his omelet. He hadn’t known there were other consequences.

 

Shota counted his students as they got on the bus. He frowned when he reached nineteen. He’d never lost a student before. Greif pierced his chest like a knife every time he was reminded of it. Regret ached in the wound like a fresh burn plunged into ice water.

He sighed and shook his head. He was being dramatic. He knew it. It was a dangerous job and he was sure it wasn’t the first time a student died during their internship. He needed to focus on the students he had.

“Here’s the deal, we’ll be on this bus about four hours before our first stop. I know it’s crowded with twenty-nine students, but try to keep it down and behave.”

“Why aren’t we blasting some music?” Kaminari asked loudly, despite the fact that he was sitting right next to Jiro.

Todoroki and the problem child were behind them, with Yaoyorozu and Ashido across the aisle. Togata, Amajiki, and Hado were crammed in behind them; with Togata still keeping an eye on Midoriya. Surprisingly few students had their cell phones out as they all chatted noisily with each other.

Shota sighed. “Why do I bother?” he muttered.

At the wheel, Maki chuckled indulgently. Matsushita was pretending to be asleep beside him.

“Well, I guess this is the only time they’ll have to fool around.”

 

Yamada rested his head on Yagi’s shoulder. They watched the movie in a comfortable silence. His hand idly ran up and down the length of Yagi’s long thigh, fingertips exploring decades of wear on the army-drab jeans.

“You are so tense, after this one, do you want a massage?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Hizashi-kun.”

“‘Coz it’d lead places?” He asked sultrily. “It doesn’t have to. I can be good. I can be so good for you.”

“Ha ha, that’s the problem.” Yagi wrapped his arm around him. “I, uh, got some bad news while on I-island. I’m still processing.”

“Ah, I feel ya, man.” Yamada returned the hug. “Take your time.” 

               

The bus pulled into the rest stop and the students exited quietly enough, the problem child took one look around and started digging in the luggage compartment. Damn brat was on to him. But, he seemed to be the only one, the others didn’t even seem concerned about the large black sedan that was already parked there.

“What are you looking for, nerd?” Bakugo asked.

After a moment of hesitation, he crawled back out. “Snacks. Hey, Aizawa-sensei?” he asked slowly. “Where’s my and Shinso’s bags?”

“On the bus with class B,” he said smugly. “We had to make room for some of the third years’ stuff.”

“Ah. Okay. Okay.” He frowned and seemed lost in thought.

Togata came up beside him and mimicked his thoughtful expression. “It’s a real head-scratcher, isn’t it.”

“Uh, sure it is,” Midoriya replied distractedly. 

“Huh. This isn’t much of a rest area,” Kirishima said.

Shinso stopped stretching and his head whipped to make eye contact with Midoriya. With a nod, the problem child moved over beside Shota.

“And Where’s class B?” Jiro asked.

“You don’t really think we stopped here just so you could stretch your legs, do you?” he asked.

 Midoriya was trying to lift his scarf off and dig through his pockets at the same time. Togata scurried over to try to help wrangle the boy. Midoriya glared at him.

Aizawa swatted his hands away. “Uh-uh-uh.”

Midoriya abandoned the jelly pack he’s half pulled out and gave a meaningful tug to the capture scarf.

The sedan’s front doors popped open. “Hey ya’, Eraser!”  A pair of attractive middle-aged women stepped out, followed by a very unimpressed child. Their matching pro-hero costumes had tutu-inspired skirts and ringmaster-inspired tops. The look was tied together with oversized paw gloves, tails, and fur-lined boots.

“Long time no see,” he replied with a deep bow, allowing Midoriya to take the top capture weapon and pass it to Shinso.

“Your feline fantasies are here!” Mandalay proclaimed, her electronic cat ears projecting a holographic display of red and pink musical symbols. “Say meow.”

“Perfectly cute and cat-like girls.” Pixie-Bob’s projections were sparkling blue and included little fishies.

“You can call us the Wild, Wild Pussycats!” they finished in unison, striking a pose.

“These are the pro heroes you’ll be working with at the summer training camp.”

“They’re a four-person mountain rescue team!” Midoriya exclaimed, still trying to pilfer a jelly pouch. “They were founded when we were kids, like forever ago.”

Mandalay and Pixie-Bob were both a little startled by his statement.

“This marks their twelfth year working as a team!” Midoriya deftly batted away the paw coming at his face. He dodged around to position Shota between him and Pixie-Bob.

“I’m pretty sure your math must be off. I’m eighteen at heart.”

“And physically you’re the same age as Aizawa-sensei,” he replied glibly, as he started sliding Shota’s combat knife out of its sheath.

Shota smacked his hands again. “Use what god gave you.”

“Okay,” Midoriya replied quietly, “but I’m telling him you called him that.”

“Brat.” Shota turned to address the rest of the class. “Everyone, say hello.”

“Hello! Nice to meet you,” they chorused, bowing.

Shota slipped a jelly pouch into Midoriya’s pocket.

“We own this whole stretch of land out here; everything you can see. The summer camp you’ll be staying at is there at the base of the mountain,” Mandalay explained.

“That’s far,” most of class 1-A said, concern in their voices.

“Eh, then why did we stop all the way up here, instead?” Uraraka asked.

“I’m afraid we both know the answer to that,” Asui replied, seriously.

Hado chuckled. “It’s not that far.”

Midoriya turned to Shota. “I’ll find my own way down to the forest, okay?”

Shota gave him a nod and another jelly pouch.

“That can’t be right,” Sato said, shaking his head.

Sero laughed nervously. “Back on the bus, quick. Let’s go.”

“Good idea, load up,” Kaminari agreed as most of the class turned as one toward the bus.

The ten third-years all laughed. “A thousand yen to anyone that makes it back on the bus!”

“Plus Ultra, first years!” 

“Ten thousand!”

Midoriya was peering over the railing at the forty-foot drop. The cliff was sheer, but there were plenty of handholds for climbing. He ended up just stepping over the rail and dropping out of sight.

“The current time is nine-thirty in the morning. If you’re fast about it, you might make it there by noon,” Mandalay told them.

“No way,” Kirishima exclaimed. “Guys!”

“Holy crap!” Ashido shouted.

“Save yourselves!”

His class made a mad dash to the bus, while the third-years joined Midoriya in, presumably, climbing down the cliff face. 

“Kitties who don’t make it there by twelve-thirty, won’t get any lunch!”

“You should have guessed, students, the training camp has already begun.”

Pixie-Bob leaped in front of the class and sent them over the cliff in a tidal wave of earth and mud.

“Good news!” Mandalay shouted down to them. “Since this is private land you can use your quirks as much as you want to! You’ve got three full hours! You should be able to make it to the facility in that time. That is if you can get through ‘the beast’s forest’!”

 

“Snackie time. Do you want half an avocado egg-salad sandwich or an onigiri?” Yamada heaved himself off the couch. He changed the movies in the DVD player.

“I’m not –” Yagi started to protest.

“We have done that song and dance,” Yamada interrupted. He made his way to the fridge and bent over gratuitously. “It’s snack time. You will eat. If you’re not feeling a sandwich or onigiri, I could heat up some dumplings, or there’s French onion soup and fancy grilled cheese.”

“I guess I could eat an onigiri,” Yagi gave in. Staring at Yamada’s tight yoga pants-clad buttocks did not help his resolve. Not in refusing food, nor resisting his playful advances, nor most dreadful of all in keeping secrets.

“Good choice.” Yamada grabbed an everything-bagel with tomato, avocado, cheese, and grilled chicken for himself and carried two of the six different onigiris back to the couch.

 

“The beasts’ forest?” Shinso asked as he dusted himself off.

The third years busied themselves helping the first years to their feet.

“That sounds like a name right out of a fantasy game,” Kaminari said.

“Why do we keep falling for Aizawa’s little tricks?” Jiro asked, still on her knees.

“I guess there’s no use complaining,” Kirishima said. “Might as well get going.”

“So, class rep, what’s our marching order?” Izuku asked.

“You and Todoroki can take point for now,” Yaoyorozu said, uncertainly, “and Bakugo and Kirishima in the rear. We can fine-tune as we go, depending on the obstacles.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Bakugo snapped as he stomped into the woods.

“He’s right,” Yaoyorozu murmured, “I should have put him on point, you have a tendency to rush.” She looked up. “Okay, Shoto, go with Bakugo, Midoriya with Kirishima.”

“Right,” the pair said.

The third years hung back, grinning knowingly at each other.

There was a small explosion and Bakugo shouted, “What the fuck?”

Shoto sent a large pillar of ice at the fifteen-foot-tall snarling beast.

“We are going to die!” someone shouted.

Kaminari sparked and started running towards it. As did Koda, shouting, “Please calm yourself, my giant friend! You don’t want to hurt them!”

The beast didn’t respond and swiped at Bakugo again. Bakugo blew its hand off. He was covered in a spray of dirt and debris.

“It’s Pixie-Bob’s quirk!” Izuku shouted. He sprung forward, crackling with the green lighting of One for All, and smashed the body of the earthen beast.

“How did you do that?!” Bakugo yelled.

“Not the time,” Izuku said, dashing ahead into the woods. “It’s complicated.”

 

“Yamada,” Yagi started.

“I liked Hizashi better.”

“Hizashi-kun, this is serious. I…” He couldn’t tell him, but he couldn’t keep this a secret either. “I.”

“How about lunch, first,” Yamada asked, standing up. “Soup? Sandwiches?”

“You know what I’m about to tell you will put an end to this.” He gestured at the couch and the TV, but also the apartment as a whole.

“It doesn’t have to.” Yamada straddled his lap. Taking his face in his hands, he told Yagi, “We really like you, both of us. We can. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve lost someone. We. We’re willing to take the chance. You’re worth it.”

“It’s not just my health.” He took Yamada’s wrists in one large hand. He caressed his cheek with the other. 

“We can still make it work,” he insisted. 

“Hizashi, I can’t. Aizawa-kun... This will only make things worse. I should go. I feel like I’m lying to you. I’m taking something I have no right to.”

“Imposter syndrome is a bitch.”

“It’s not that,” he said. He released Yamada’s hands. “He’s going to hate me for this.”

“Sho won’t hate you, even if he’s mad.”

“Yeah, him too.” Yagi shifted Yamada onto the couch. “Izuku is Stray.”

Chapter 71: A Path Less Traveled

Yamada blinked at him a few times. He shook his head as if to clear it and asked, “What?”

“Aizawa was right.” Yagi tried to stand, but Yamada had crawled back into his lap.

“Could you repeat that, but like in a dimension where it makes sense?” He was gripping Yagi’s shoulders, holding him at arm’s length. 

“Aizawa was right. Izuku is Stray.” He hung his head and buried his face in his hands, displacing Yamada.

“Are you… how do you know?”

“He used his shadow to cling to the side of the tower.”

“It was the middle of a fight, you were seeing things.”

“He, he cocoons in his shadow when he sleeps.”

“You saw it?” Yamada asked as he pulled out his phone.

“He snuggled into my chest and wrapped it around me.”

“You’re sure?” he asked desperately.

“Yes. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Yamada said reassuringly.

“Yes, it is. If I had handled things differently with Izuku on the roof, he wouldn’t have fallen. If I hadn’t visited him in the hospital, All for One would have never noticed him. If I had gotten in touch with him sooner after he got out, he wouldn’t have joined them. If I had paid more attention, I would have noticed something sooner.”

Yamada stared at him. “I’m calling Nezu.”

“No wait, please,” Yagi pleaded. “I. Can’t we talk about this first?”

“No,” Yamada replied. “There is no discussion without Nezu. If Midoriya is going to continue being a Yuuei student, Nezu needs to be informed. We can’t keep secrets from him.”

“It’s not Izuku’s fault. No matter how you decide to handle this, you have to know, Aizawa-kun has to know, that it’s my fault. None of this would have happened if not for me. I’m the one you should be angry with, not Izuku. He’s just a kid. Okay?”

“Our job is to turn that kid into a functioning pro hero, Yagi. If he does something wrong, he needs to learn from his mistake,” Yamada corrected. He stood in front of Yagi with a slight frown on his face.

Yagi nodded, looking even more miserable. He was quiet for a long time before whispering, “You don’t think he’s going to expel Izuku?”

“He’s a fifteen – wait he’s sixteen, now. He’s a sixteen-year-old kid. And– Fuck. That’s why he wasn’t upset with Sho. He thinks what happened is okay because he’s Stray.” Yamada dialed Nezu on his phone. “Hey, I need you to come over. Yagi just got back from his trip and we need to talk.” There was a long pause. “Yeah, not a problem. See you soon.” Yamada looked up from his phone. “It’s going to be okay.”

It wasn’t long until Nezu arrived; his whiskers twitching as he slipped his shoes off. Both cats greeted him warmly, butting their heads against his hands and hips. “Yes, yes. Hello, my little princelings. Yes, I brought you a treat.” He moved to the kitchen first; emptying a small bag of treats evenly into the cats’ bowls. Then he joined them on the couch. “So, Yagi, aside from the obvious, how was your trip?”

“Uh, eventful?” It took him a moment to realize that Yamada intended to let him inform Nezu. “I… Please, understand that none of this is his fault.”

Nezu merely nodded.

“Izuku… he. He’s Stray.”

“He was in Yamada’s class during the USJ attack…” Nezu murmured. “A shapeshifter! That would explain the dead girl, as well!”

“Dead girl?” Yagi asked slowly.

“Yes, in the video Stain released of his latest three victims and the footage from the night club, the girl is the same: Aina Ishikawa, she died of an overdose more than a year ago.”

“Do you think Izuku was involved?”

“I have insufficient data to say for sure.” Nezu twitched his whiskers in contemplation. “The bulk of the orders from Stray, if the USJ thugs’ testimonies are reliable, were to stress not killing the students. He took pains to ensure they understood the goals: injury but not death.” After a moment he added, “I don’t think he’s killed anyone yet.”

“Should I call Sho?” Yamada asked.

“No. We’ll tell him in person when he gets back. It will allow him some time to process so he doesn’t slip up in front of Midoriya-kun.” Nezu looked grim. “It’s unfortunate that Shota didn’t come to me with his suspicions. They will likely be much more careful now.”

Ten minutes of constant use. No broken bones. The skin on his knuckles would heal in a little over an hour and a half if he didn’t keep reinjuring them. One for All settled into the spaces between the thrum of his healing quirk. The only useful thing about this slog was seeing how long he could hold it while fighting.

The hardest thing was keeping his shadow in check. He could feel One for All surging through it. Every time a golem stepped on it, Izuku struggled not to wrap it up and crush it. It was a far cry from a few months ago when he forgot to use it in a fight until Tomura was injured.

 

Dirt, dust, mud, rocks, roots. Nejire was glad she was hovering above the action as the three most powerful boys – the ice user, the explosive one, and the super strong one – spearheaded their push into the forest. A second powerhouse worked with an electrical user and a guy with a hardening quirk to hold the left flank with little assistance. On the opposite side, frog-girl and float-girl were smashing medium-sized constructs against the ground while their pink classmate splashed the remains with acid.

It was surprising that the first years clumped so close together, they formed six units of three and traveled in a diamond formation. Meanwhile, Nejire and the other third years had spread out to take on the beasts individually. She, Togata, and Amajiki were each averaging one beast every three minutes; which was only slightly faster than the other third years. Sparing a moment to do the math, she found that the first years were taking twice as long!

“Come on, first-years! At least try to keep up!” she shouted and laughed. “You did so well at the sports festival! I know you can do it!”

 

Pixie-Bob’s golems surrounded them; apes, beasts, dragons, pterodactyls, serpents. Tamaki had taken to hurling them into the distance with no regard for whether it was actually destroyed. He trudged through, making sure to match Nejire golem for golem. Too few and she’d start encouraging him like she was doing with the first years. Too many and she’d start gushing. It would be unbearably embarrassing either way.

Mirio on the other hand, was the shining sun. Despite not having enhanced strength, he was able to destroy the golems by launching himself through them. Each burst of earth was punctuated by a joyous whoop and a witty one-liner. Hard packed muscles rippled in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the trees. A laugh like music helped to keep fatigue at bay as they pressed forward.

“Too bright,” Tamaki gasped, glad he was trailing behind instead of standing at his side in the spotlight.

 

Creature after creature came at them. His muscles burned and he could feel the strain on his quirk every time he dropped down into the earth. He ripped through the earthen beasts without pausing. After all, he had to stay ahead of the first years, they didn’t need to see his junk.

Mirio spared a glance over his shoulder at the obviously bored green-haired boy behind him. He just didn’t get it. Sir had instructed him to look out for their little intern on this trip, to get to know him and help him, but Midoriya didn’t seem like the kind of person Sir would like. He was too serious. His smile was viscous, not kind. Would he really be the type to save people?

After only two or three takedowns by the first years, he was just taking out a limb and leaving the cleanup for his classmates. The team in front on the right - a girl using a bo staff, a purple-haired girl, and a boy with a tape quirk - were taking out most of his leftovers, while the back right team and tape-boy took on the flying opponents. It was an effective strategy, but it rubbed him the wrong way. 

 

It was mindless repetition. Izuku slammed into one golem after another. He’d tried to dash ahead and take out a few on his own, only to find the group under siege when he doubled back to check their progress. It was a crucible, not a lesson. A chance for the powerful, obviously destructive quirks to shine. Just like the entrance exam.

Aizawa had said he’d wanted him in his class. That Izuku was what he thought they should be looking for. Part of him recoiled from the thought; he was a common villain, after all. But, part of him wanted to test that. 

He dropped back next to Yaoyorozu. “Can you duplicate Jiro’s speakers?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good, that’ll get her operating at one hundred percent.” He tried to jog his brain on what else would be useful. “Toru needs a weapon, too. Preferably something with range.”

“I can only make so much.”

Izuku pulled out a jelly pouch. “I didn’t get these for me.” He grinned at her. It was a bit of a wild expression, one would not be blamed for thinking of it as savage.

Yaoyorozu took it for what it was, the look of an excited schemer figuring out how to beat the system. “What are you thinking?”

“We were challenged to get to camp, not fight monsters.”

“Don’t you think that goes against the spirit of the exercise?” The naked third-year asked.

Izuku shrugged. “Maybe, but out-pacing Pixie-Bob’s quirk is not going to be easy. It shouldn’t take her long to figure out that we’re immobilizing the golems and running. We’ll need to cover as much ground as we can.”

“Okay, I’ll make Toru a club, and a few grenades.”

 “Hey,” Bakugo shouted. “Save some lipids and just make a flask with an ignition system. I’ll fill them.”

“Right!”

“Hey,” Shinso called dully. “Don’t bother with the club, if we’re speedrunning this. How about some gliders?”

“I could manage two, I think. But then I’d be tapped out.”

“If I lighten the passengers, they could carry more, right?” Uraraka asked.

“In theory,” Yaoyorozu agreed. She produced two small gliders. “Toru, Koda, Uraraka, and Shinso, here you go. Nejire-san can you propel the four of them to the camp?”

“You too,” Shinso said. “No sense in risking you if you’ll be tapped out.”

Begrudgingly Hado scooped her up.

“Icy-hot, make a tunnel for us!” Bakugo shouted.

“Right!” Todoroki produced a high wall of ice cutting through the forest. In a few seconds, it was more than three hundred feet long. “Hurry up!” He shouted as he created a second wall ten feet to the left of the first.

The first years took off, whooping and laughing, with the vaguely confused upper-class men trailing behind. 

“Don’t bother destroying them!” Izuku shouted. “She just makes new ones every time.”

Todoroki focused on creating a fortified barrier between them and the bulk of the golems. Izuku had joined Amajiki in hucking them as far away as he could. They ran as fast as they could, blasting limbs, wings, and heads as they went.

Shinso and Hado protected the gliders as they zipped through the clean sky sped up by the hyper girl. Where he tangled the flyers’ wings, she blasted them out of the sky with one hand.

“Damn, that looks so cool,” Shinso muttered.

 

Aizawa glared at them as they touched down. 

Matsushita chuckled. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Let’s see what they have to say.” He was idly checking his phone.

Yamada had texted him about Aizawa 'forgetting' his bentos.

He replied, Don't worry about it, I'll rope the kids into making some. 

Thanks so much! 

He looked back up as Uraraka released the five first years. They landed expertly on their feet. “Nejire-san? Can you take me back to the group?”

“Sure! Glad to see that fighting spirit.”

“Wait,” Yaoyorozu said. She produced a large bag, though it visibly drained her to do so. “Take this back with you.”

“Okay. What’s in it?”

“More flasks, a collapsible staff,” she replied, glancing at Pixie-Bob, “and a few other things.”

Uraraka secured the bag to the collapsible gliders. “I’m ready!”

“Right!”

 

Katsuki was counting the ‘kills’ in his head. Deku’s little evacuation plan meant he’d have more ‘at bats’ than the girl, but the other two members of the ‘Big Three’ were still on the field. He was matching the dark-haired one kill for kill, but the blonde was outpacing him by almost half. It was frustrating.

The guy didn’t even have super strength. He just fell, naked, through the earth and popped back up punching. He was getting all scraped and bruised, but he didn’t seem to be running out of energy. How was he supposed to be the best if he couldn’t even keep up with this guy?

He shifted his target to less than total destruction in the hopes that that would help his speed.

 

Hado’s expression was a cuter version of Aizawa’s when she touched down again, with Uraraka and eight more first years. Aoyama, curled around his belt practically weeping, struggled to stay on his feet as Uraraka released him from her quirk. Ojiro, Sero, and Jiro were all panting heavily. 

“I thought that last one had us!”

“I know, man. Midoriya was right about scritching her murder button.”

Four more students - a derped out Kaminari, Kirishima holding him, Ashido, and Asui - and two additional gliders were collapsed next to them.

“What exactly is your explanation for this?” Aizawa snapped.

“If you want us to fight dirt monsters, we can do it here, and we made it to camp in plenty of time, so it’s win-win!” Ashido explained from the ground.

Uraraka gathered the gliders back into the bag. “Come On! We’re wasting time!”

“This isn’t right,” Hado complained. 

“It’s an evacuation,” Uraraka said. “What’s wrong with that?”

“But we’re supposed to fight them!”

“According to who?” Jiro asked.

“Matsushita-sensei, please explain it to the first Years! They are missing the point of the exercise!”

“And what’s that, little darlin’?” Matsushita asked.

“We’re fighting to get stronger!” she insisted. 

“We’ve got a week to do that, though. Might do us a bit of good to see where they’re at. Not all strength is physical. How they think is important.”

“I guess,” she agreed with her cheeks puffed out.

“Good!” Uraraka cheered.  “Let’s go!”

 

The rest of the students made it back on the next trip. Uraraka had lightened nearly all of them. Shoji was gliding along next to the four hang gliders; Sato had one to himself, while Todoroki and Tokoyami shared one. Bakugo was flying under his own power, both out of ego and to ease the strain on Uraraka.

Four of the third years had agreed to let Izuku pull them in an ice sled made by Todoroki and lightened so it didn’t drag. Hado and a transformed Amajiki were flying, and the remaining four third years split the two remaining gliders.

Bakugo was the primary defense for the flight, but Hado kept up with him while carrying Uraraka and redirecting the gliders. Hado’s shorthaired friend, Haya, shot arrows of electricity at the few flyers the two missed and at any ground golems she saw giving the sled too much trouble.

“Mew, mew, mew, mew!” Pixie-Bob exclaimed behind her paw gloves. “I thought it would take you kids even longer! But you did much better against my dirt monsters than I thought you would.” She lowered her paws and gave them a thumbs up. “You guys were seriously great. Especially, the five of you!” She pushed Bakugo, Izuku, Todoroki, Togata, and Amajiki closer together. “I call dibs on these kittens! I’ll groom them myself!”

Togata laughed good-naturedly. Amajiki curled in on himself and trembled. Izuku pulled Todoroki in close to him and growled low in his throat.

Bakugo shouted, “Get off us, you old hag!”

It seemed to snap Izuku out of his possessive mode and he joined the loud blond by adding, “I do not consent!”

Todoroki lifted the five of them on a heart-shaped pillar of ice. “It’s okay. You’re safe. Look at me.”

Izuku cocked his head and looked at him. “Wha?”

“You are not under the influence of blush and no one is going to hurt you.”

Izuku’s mouth fell open. He blinked at Todoroki a few times before burrowing into his chest. He took a couple of shaky breaths. “I’m okay. I’m fine. I wasn’t even thinking about that!”

Todoroki held him, patting his back comfortingly, while Bakugo moved to the edge of the pillar and crackled his palms threateningly. “You lay one more paw on my brother and I’ll make you look your age, bitch.”

“That’s enough! Class 1-A, front and center.” Aizawa stood with his arms crossed glaring as his assembled students in front of him. “So, brief me.”

Yaoyorozu stepped up. “We assessed that the assignment was, as stated, to arrive here within the three-hour time limit. Because we were told we could use our quirks ‘as much as we want’, we devised a plan to transport ourselves quickly, primarily utilizing collapsible gliders and Uraraka’s Zero Gravity. We broke into groups taking advantage of Aoyama, Asui, Shinso, Sero, Jiro, Bakugo, Hado-san, and Haya-san’s ranged attack capabilities, while protecting those of us that were more physically vulnerable. Todoroki, Midoriya, Bakugo, and the third years enabled the remaining students to continue pushing ahead, using a strategy proposed by Midoriya. By not fully destroying Pixie-Bob’s constructs her attention was split, delaying the creation of more constructs.” She began to fidget nervously by the end.

“To be fair, I spotted Amajiki-san tossing them aside and noticed that they didn’t crumble right away,” Izuku added.

Bakugo spoke up. “Tch. If slamming our heads into a brick wall was the point, she can attack us more after lunch.”

“Right,” Yaoyorozu agreed. “Pixie-Bob’s quirk should be just as effective a few meters into the forest as it was in the middle of it.”

Most of his students nodded their agreement.

“Shinso, Todoroki, anything you’d like to say?”

Shinso shrugged. “Not really. I mean, it was fifty-fifty you’d ‘logical ruse’ us again, considering there was no way we could march through the woods and fight monsters in three hours. This might not be the only win condition, but it’s not like we did anything you haven’t seen us do before.” He paused. “Is that what this face is about?”

Aizawa shook his head, smirking a little. “Fifty-fifty, huh? I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He addressed the group. “Do you all agree with Yaoyorozu’s assessment?”

“Yes sir!” they said in unison.

“Good. She’s right. Get something to eat.”

His students whooped and made their way into the mess hall to join class B.

As the third years followed, Togata paused. “Hey, I was wondering, who's the kid?” He pointed at the unimpressed boy in the red hat with two golden spike-shaped horns on the front standing next to Mandalay.

“Oh, this little guy? He’s actually my nephew! He just lives with us now. Don’t be shy Kota, say ‘hi’ to everyone. You’re going to be around them for the next week.”

Togata, blessedly back in his clothes since the ice sled ride, stepped up to him and put his hand out to shake. “Hey there! I’m Togata, we’re from the Yuuei High School Hero Course. It’s nice to meet you.” He closed his eyes and smiled widely. It was like a sunbeam on a cloudy day; bright and full of cheer.

Kota took a step back with one foot and leaned in with his punch, connecting solidly and with surprising power for a small child. He walked away coolly as Togata collapsed to his knees, clutching his undoubtedly bruised genitals.

Most of the boys present flinched and some made sympathetic pain sounds. Izuku let a sadistic half smile slide across his face, while Bakugo smiled fondly at him.

“That’s a low blow, kid!” one of the third year’s shouted.

Mandalay stood shocked as he brushed passed her. Kota turned a hate-filled glare at Togata. “The last thing I want is to hang with some wannabe heroes.”

“Harsh!”

“That brat’s got spunk,” Bakugo commented.

“He’s like a mini version of you,” Todoroki said dryly.

“What are you talking about?! You can just shut your mouth before I blast you all the way to hell.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Enough fooling around, after you eat, you can get your bags off the bus. Then we’ll start your training in earnest.”

Class A groaned collectively.

 

“You forgot your lunches,” Matsushita said in a tinny drawl as he pressed a Tupperware into Aizawa’s hands. It had three heart-shaped onigiri, a half cup of mixed berries, one section of rolled omelet, baby carrots, sliced cucumbers, and a boiled egg with a bunny face carved on it. “Tomorrow, I’ll do better.”

“Don’t,” Aizawa said tiredly.

“You can’t skip lunch for a week.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You can’t see it, but I’m giving you that look you give students who are blatantly lying to you like you haven’t been teaching for five years.”

Aizawa sighed and sat down on the stairs to the mess. “You gonna join me?”

“Yeah,” Matsushita replied, pulling his mask off with one hand and producing a matching bento with the other.

 

Izuku ate with one hand while recording notes on the third years with the other. He was sandwiched between Todoroki and Shinso, with Yaoyorozu, Bakugo, and Kirishima across from them. Tokoyami was on the other side of Kaminari, who was next to Jiro, who was on the other side of Yaoyorozu.

After the rough treatment in the woods, Izuku’s shadow was overstimulated and he had to concentrate on keeping it from curling into a blob around his feet. He was certain it was the nearly two hours of using One for All, rather than the myriad of textures in the forest; although he would have to test it later to be sure.

He started adding new details he’d picked up about his new classmates, muttering as he did, “Sato should mix complex carbs, like sweet potatoes, with pure sugar for a burst of strength with less crash. Momo needs lipid-rich snacks like nuts, peanut butter, olives, and avocados. Kirishima needs to practice keeping his profile small. Kacchan needs to work on cooperation –”

His notebook was jerked out of his hand. “Can it, nerd. You’re not getting this back until after lunch. Now eat!”

“I’ve been eating, Kacchan!”

Bakugo piled some pork cutlets and a second bowl of curry onto his plate.

Izuku laughed. “I’m not a Saiyan, you know! I can only eat a normal amount at a time! I mean, normal for a teenage boy.” He scratched his cheek looking at the pile of food. He grinned and dug in with gusto.

 

“Our goal is to increase your skills exponentially. This will allow you to prepare for the dangers that fester in the darkness. Proceed carefully. Look alive. Bakugo.” He tossed him a softball size and shaped object, with a band of digital sensors around it. “Try throwing that for me.”

“Yeah, sure, like in the fitness test.”

“That’s right. When you first started school, your record was seven oh five point two meters. Let’s see if you’ve improved.”

Bakugo stepped away from the group with the ball.

“Oh, I get it,” Ashido said, “You’re checking our progress.”

“A lot’s happened to us in the last three months; maybe he can throw it a whole mile now!” Sero said.

As Bakugo made sure he was properly warmed up, Kirishima shouted, “Come on! Get it Bakugo!”

“I’ve got this,” he said smugly and pitched the ball shouting, “Go. To. Hell!”

“That was seven oh nine point six meters,” Aizawa said flatly.

“That’s it? Kinda disappointing,” Sero commented.

“You’ve had a single semester at Yuuei and due to your various experiences all of you have definitely improved, but those improvements have mostly been limited to mental prowess and technical skill with a slight increase in stamina thrown in along the way. As you can see, your quirks themselves have not improved much on a fundamental level. That’s why we’re now going to focus on improving your powers. This’ll be so hard you’ll feel like you’re dying. Let’s hope you all survive.” He grinned manically at them.

Chapter 72: No Rest for the Wicked

After lunch, Aizawa had individual meetings with his students to determine what their training regiment for the week would be. His instructions for Izuku were simple, “You’ll be working with Tiger until your technical skills are as good with your quirk activated as without it.”

“Yes sir!” he replied. “Are we starting today? Or are giving us time to rest up?”

“Do you need to rest?”

“Pfft, no. I’m just wondering if I should go find Tiger now, or if you want me to wait for some reason.”

“If you’re done unpacking, Tiger is in the dojo waiting for you. He wants to see what you’re capable of.”

“Cool.”

“Send Bakugo in on your way,” Aizawa concluded.

Izuku nodded and pulled out his phone as he left. Aizawa heard him shout, “Kacchan! Your turn!”

He pulled up the Wild, Wild Pussy Cat’s fan page and read the brief description of Tiger’s quirk there. Pliabody let Tiger stretch and flatten his body at will. That would be an interesting quirk to put his technical skill against. Plus, it meant that Tiger was immune to most holds, and could absorb more impact than a normal person. He was muttering strategies by the time he got to the dojo and nearly bumped into Tiger who was waiting for him; having just opened the bank of sliding doors to take advantage of the morning light.

“Haha! You need to pay more attention to your surroundings, kid.”

Izuku shrugged in response. He moved past the imposing man and set his phone down next to the camera that was going to record the lesson.

“Well,” he clapped Izuku on the back harder than necessary for a friendly gesture, “Let’s see what you’ve got.” They made their way to the center of the dojo. “We’ll start without your quirk; anytime you’re ready.”

Izuku nodded. He took a fighting stance and assessed his opponent. Tiger was in between Aizawa and Nighteye in height, and beefier than either of them. He had an intimidating aura, though not as strong as Stain’s. It wasn’t the same… texture? Vibe? It didn’t feel as heavy or cold and wasn’t electrical and erratic like his own.

Izuku closed the distance, unfazed by Tiger’s glowering expression, and wrapped both arms around the man’s thighs and pushed his shoulder into his gut. Tiger allowed himself to be taken to the mat. The mount was fast and accompanied by a hail of blows. Izuku’s knees snug in his armpits, one arm ‘pinned’, and the other ‘trapped’ in an arm lock.

Tiger tried to throw Izuku off by arching into an exaggerated bridge, but Izuku just twisted smoothly into an armbar. Tiger’s spongy bones and rubbery limbs made the exercise completely academic. Still, his arm was bent dangerously, and Izuku was applying more pressure at a steady rate.

Tiger rolled up onto his shoulders, lifting his leg and hooking his calf on Izuku’s neck. He shoved the boy down while holding one arm. It was sloppier than Aizawa’s reversal, but it was no less powerful; Tiger’s hold was iron-tight.

Izuku’s elbow creaked ominously as he attempted to jerk his elbow off Tiger’s hip but the man’s heels dug into his other side, locking him in place. Izuku kicked at him and tried to pry his hand away with his free arm and spare his overextended elbow. He could feel the bone bending.

Twisting and rotating his whole body, Izuku shifted so his shoulder was higher than his elbow. His feet were under him, in a sort of half-collapsed bridge. He rolled Tiger onto his shoulders and rotated out of his legs.

Tiger laughed as he easily pushed the boy away. “Good, good! A bit aggressive but a solid foundation! Now, come at me with your quirk.”

Izuku summoned up the erratic, crackling energy. Adrenaline coursed through him as it pulsed around him. It strained his bones for a moment but he exhaled slowly and envisioned the power flowing through his body as he tensed and relaxed his muscles. The thud of his heart in his chest slowed and his breathing evened out.

Moving faster than Tiger could see, Izuku was pleased to have not cracked the walls. His nighttime jogs with All Might were paying off. He got behind Tiger and secured one arm around his neck in a rear-naked choke while hopping up to wrap his legs around the man’s waist. Izuku leaned back to bring them to the floor.

Izuku was concentrating on not crushing Tiger’s neck or waist, and keeping his shadow in check. He could not slip up on film. Keeping his breathing slow and even, Izuku focused on keeping his arms and legs still as Tiger struggled to free himself. He tensed and relaxed his muscles to scrub some of the excess energy flowing through them.

He drifted into an almost meditative state. The trees outside began to take on a hazy quality and the clear blue sky darkened. Indistinct figures were moving around in the shadows. The languid form of a cat mutation was lazing under a bush. He shook his head at Izuku. “Pay attention.” 

An incessant, perhaps frantic, tapping on his elbow brought him back to the task. He released Tiger.

After taking a few deep breaths, Tiger asked, “What happened?”

Izuku sat up to face him. “Sorry, I was focused on not crushing you.”

“I see,” he said slowly. “I know what you’ll be doing tomorrow. In the meantime, come at me again without your quirk.”

 

The girls had been scheduled for the baths at the same time as the boys. As they’d passed them on the way in, Kaminari had commented that Jiro would look cute in a towel. She smacked him but blushed a little; before threatening to blind anyone that peeped.

“As you should,” Shinso said.

Todoroki nodded solemnly.

Izuku grinned. “Not that we’d disrespect you like that, but assertive women are hot.”

“You like soft boys and assertive girls?” Uraraka asked.

Izuku shrugged. “I know I’m bi, I might be pan. Not sure. It’ll probably change, as I get older. But! I ‘like’ a – no, I’m attracted to a lot of people. It’s a grab bag of personality and physical traits, some of which wildly conflict. It’s confusing.”

“I guess it would be.”

“You seem to be handling it well,” Yaoyorozu said.

“Well, overanalyzing things is my default, and I have an extra eight hours a day for introspection. The hard part is remembering that the rest of you don’t.”

She nodded and the two groups continued on.

“I haven’t really thought much about,” Todoroki hesitated, “my specific sexuality.”

Izuku stripped efficiently and crammed his things into a basket while Todoroki folded his neatly. “I mean we’re sixteen, it’s all new and ever-changing. I’m not surprised you haven’t given it much thought. Just realizing you might be gay is a big step, especially in a home like that.”

Todoroki nodded. “Everything has always been about training and school and achieving. It’s nice to have something that just is. Although, he does seem to tolerate you more since I-island.”

Izuku took his hand. “I’ll try harder then.”

Todoroki smiled warmly at that and pulled him closer.

“You two,” Aizawa snapped. 

Izuku held up their clasped hands. “We’re not doing anything.”

“Then why assume I was talking about you?” 

“We’re the only group of two?” Todoroki asked flatly.

Aizawa glared at the boys. “I expect you, all of you, to behave yourselves. To conduct yourselves appropriately. Am I understood?”

“I think so,” Kaminari said, cautiously. “You’re worried we’ll peep on the girls. And hey, we might joke, but we never actually would.”

“He thinks the nerd and half-n-half are gonna screw in front of the rest of us.”

“Ew,” Izuku exclaimed. “I would never do that in front of my brother.”

“But you could consider it if we kicked him out?” Shinso asked, deadpan. 

Izuku blushed. “I… well, we’re not. That is –”

“We’re not going to do anything we haven’t discussed already,” Todoroki interrupted Izuku’s stammering. “Mostly hand-holding, cuddling, and light kissing.” He paused. “Exhibitionism wasn’t brought up, so, no.” 

Smirking subtly, Aizawa replied, “Keep it that way,” and left.

Slipping into the hot spring was glorious after sparring with Tiger. The heat was both relaxing and rejuvenating. Izuku snuggled into Todoroki’s side; quickly falling into a shallow sleep. His shadow wrapped loosely around them. Luckily, it stayed below the warm water. It was a degree cooler than the surrounding water, but Todoroki didn’t seem to notice it. Izuku was fully rested and healed when his boyfriend gently roused him about an hour later.

 

As the rest of the class 1-A boys changed into sleep clothes, Izuku pulled on a pair of blue track pants and his white tee shirt that said, ‘T-shirt’. He did a few light stretches, grabbed his DSR, and headed for the door.

Snipe was waiting for him in the hall. “Oh, uh, did you need something, Matsushita-sensei?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a hell week if we let you take it easy for seven hours. Come on, you’re going to train with the third years.”

“Oh.” Izuku shoved his disappointment down. “Do you think I’ll be able to keep up with them? They’re so much more experienced than me.”

Matsushita laughed good-naturedly. “I don’t reckon you’ll have too much trouble, Midoriya.”

When they entered the Wild, Wild Pussycats’ gym Izuku could tell that some of the equipment was on loan from Yuuei. There were weight sets that went up to five hundred thousand pounds and a few extra heavy-duty punching bags.  After a quick warm-up, Snipe had him find his maximum lifts, both with and without his quirk.

The third years chatted, largely ignoring him. Togata would try to pull him into the conversation while he was calculating weights. “What do you think, Midoriya-kun?”

“No idea, I honestly wasn’t paying attention. If I can bench a hundred and sixty-five thousand, I should be able to deadlift two hundred and seventy-five.”

“You did that in your head?” A girl with short faded red hair, Haya, asked.

“Yeah?” he replied. “It’s basic math. I mean the bench, squat, and deadlift ratios are an estimation at best, but converting between them isn’t hard.”

“How come you don’t know how much you can lift, anyway?” Hado asked.

Izuku shrugged. “I’ve never tried before. My trainer had me doing more useful things than strength training.”

“Like what?” she pressed, floating into his personal space.

“Conditioning, technique, flexibility. Knife fighting. Stealth, parkour.”

“You can knife fight?”

“And throw damn near anything.”

“Prove it.”

“Give me a thing to throw and a target.”

Hado quickly marked a tree, about fifty feet away from the group, with concentric rings. Haya scrounged around for a ‘weapon.’ She came back with an armload of oranges from the mess hall.

Izuku grabbed one, chucked it at the target without really looking, and went back to loading his weights.

“Bull’s eye!” someone shouted as it exploded over the tree trunk.

“How far can you throw with that kind of accuracy?”

“About a hundred, hundred-and-ten feet.”

“With your strength, why would you bother?”

“Not every villain can survive a blow that would destroy a brick wall. Most wouldn’t, in fact.” He lifted the two hundred and seventy-five thousand pounds and held it. Green energy sparked over him like lightning. “I could do more. Two eighty, I think.” He set the bar down and loaded more weight. Heaving it up he said, “Yeah, that’s about it. I could do a bit more, in an emergency, but that’s all I can do without risking injury.”

Togata turned toward Izuku frowning. “That’s not very ‘Plus Ultra’ of you. You’re not even breaking a sweat. A true hero would push themselves to the limit, and beyond! The world relies on us to be there, to save them, to protect them. We should rise to the challenge every time!”

“Empty platitudes,” Izuku said, setting the weight down. “I know my quirk better than you.”

“I don’t understand what Sir sees in you.”

“Himself, rather than a cheap All Might knockoff,” Izuku shot back. He took a threatening step toward Togata and stopped. He released One for All. “Sorry.” He shook his hands. Nothing was broken, but a few light bruises blossomed on his fingers. “Adrenaline.”

Togata looked confused for a moment. “Cheap All Might knockoff? Me?!”

“I’ll tell you what I told Nighteye,” Izuku said flatly, “You do not have enough friendship points to unlock this interaction.” He turned away from the students and addressed Matsushita. “A hundred and sixty-five thousand bench, two hundred and twenty-five thousand squat, and two hundred and eighty thousand deadlift. What’s next?”

Snipe gave a low, tinny whistle. “I looked it up for comparison, and –”

“Don’t,” Izuku interrupted him, “bother. All Might’s record at Yuuei was eighty-five thousand, a hundred and thirteen, and a hundred and twenty-five thousand. He didn’t bench a hundred thousand until he was twenty-five. I know the numbers. I’ve known the numbers since I was six.” He shook his head. “I know you need a baseline to push me, I could do it again, but if I push my quirk further I’ll break something. I mean, it’ll only take twelve hours to heal, so it’s not that bad…” He turned hesitantly back to the weights. “Won’t be much of a hell week if I don’t push myself.”

“Midoriya.”

He glanced back at Matsushita.

“Let’s put that brain of yours to work. Square off with Togata. Just don’t break anything. Either of you.”

“Right.” Togata nodded, squaring up.

“After last year’s sports festival, I kinda wonder, is Midnight your favorite hero?”

“Uh, no. Why?”

“Well, she’s the R-rated hero, and you’re gearing up to be the X-rated hero.”

Scowling, Togata dropped into the earth, his clothes falling to the ground.

Izuku immediately rolled to the left; as most people tended to favor their dominant side, which statistically was the right. It was dim enough that he left his shadow there to sense when Togata popped back up. Only seven hundred and forty-two pounds of force were needed to break human ribs; it was about one-tenth of the force Izuku was capable of. Therefore, he was using less than ten percent of the power at his disposal; closer to five percent. It was enough to deal with any normal human threat. Togata’s quirk was Permeation, so he wouldn’t – shouldn’t – have more than an incidental increase in strength and durability.

Izuku turned and tackled the naked boy the moment he solidified, shouting ‘Power!’. The pair went down in a tangle of limbs. The erotic nature of slamming bodily into a nude opponent was not lost on Izuku, as he briefly felt Togata’s swelling member pressed against his chest. The third-year phased through the earth again as soon as his back hit the dirt. Izuku’s fist followed fruitlessly. He rolled away, backwards this time and waited.

Most people could hold their breath for between one and two minutes without training. Whether Togata’s quirk applied to gasses as well as solids (as it did not apply to light), he would still need to come out of the earth to breathe. He might achieve a time of five to nine minutes with training, but that didn’t seem likely with his brash and raucous personality.

Togata popped up again, to the left of where Izuku had been, three feet off the ground with both fists raised. Izuku was not where he had predicted. The first year slammed into him again, faster and harder than the first time. It knocked the wind out of him. Momentarily stunned, Togata was slammed into – against – the ground, a salvo of blows raining down on him.

He managed to get his hands up, gather his wits, and activate permeation. He deactivated it immediately, as Izuku was rolling to the side. He tackled Izuku this time. Straddling the smaller boy, he punched wildly. His blows were more powerful than Izuku’s had been but he soaked the hits easily.

Izuku grinned beneath him. “I have to ask Shoto if this counts as cheating.” He grabbed Togata’s thighs and bridged with his hips to throw the older, stronger, still nude boy forward. He continued to twist and squirm beneath him trying to get control and roll them over.

Blushing an ever-increasing shade of red, Togata powered through and hit Izuku right below the eye. His feral grin never wavered.

Crackling with One for All’s electric energy, Izuku kissed at him. “Hey, are you and Amajiki-san in an open relationship?”

Togata growled and drew back to hit him again.

“Oh, sorry are you two not out yet? My bad.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, talk dirty to me, hero,” Izuku purred.

“That’s enough,” Snipe snapped. “Togata, wind sprints. Midoriya, you’re going to be working on your form. Eraserhead mentioned it needed work. I’ll let the Pussycats know; I think Mandalay has the first watch.”

 

Shota slipped silently away from the sparring ground. He dialed his father. “Pick up, pick up.”

“Shota? What is it?” Nezu sounded tired, but not groggy. While he rarely needed to pull an all-nighter, he was known to keep working at a problem until he solved it. It was why Shota trusted him so much. He wouldn’t stop until he had a solution.

“Talk to me about Midoriya,” he pleaded. Talking to his dad would make it better. He had to catch himself before he spiraled. He couldn’t make the same mistake twice. He shouldn’t have made it in the first place.

“What happened?” Nezu asked. His whiskers were likely twitching in the way they did when he was gathering data.

“He was sparring and said something that reminded me of Stray,” he admitted. It had to be in his head. Izuku was not Stray. The words were the same, sure. The tone too, but any sexually charged antagonism would feel the same.

“It’ll be alright, Shota. Just tell me about it,” Nezu soothed.

“He, he told Togata to talk dirty to him,” Shota told him. He explained the situation. When he started to go over the nightclub incident, Nezu stopped him.

“I’ve seen the footage, and read your statement, Shota. There is no reason for you to relive that.”

 “Dad, he looks just like Stray.”

“I know,” Nezu replied softly. “My poor pinkie. It will be alright. I promise. We will get through this together.”

“Dad. Please, I hurt him, I can’t. I can’t keep thinking they’re the same person. He’s my student!”

“Yes, he is. No matter what, we have a responsibility to that boy. And we will fulfill it. You’re fulfilling it now. And it’s okay to have doubts. We will work through them. How would you handle him if he were Stray?” 

“I, uh. I don’t know.” Shota paused. “I… not like I did. I fucked up so badly. If I come down on him hard like that, it would just chase him straight to them. Fuck. Trust. It would come down to trust. He’d need to trust us to help him, to get him out of whatever situation he’s in and we’d need to trust him to, to do his best on what amounts to an undercover operation until we could extract him.”

“Good. How do you build that trust?”

“I don’t know.”

“Slowly,” Nezu supplied. “One brick at a time. Talk to your students about Iida and Stain.”

“Fuck. I should have sent them to Hound Dog again.”

“They had a lot on their plates,” he reminded him. “And you let them know he was available if they need it.”

“I should have made it mandatory.” He shook his head. “I should have said something about it to them. God, I fucking joked about training being so hard they’d want to die. Why am I such an ass?”

“It’s how you cope.”

“It sucks.”

“Do better going forward,” Nezu replied. “Is there anything you’d want to say to him? If Stray were a student?”

“I’d give the little shit a lesson on consent.” He snorted.

“I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to work it into your lesson plan.”

“Dad? Nezu, what aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s fine, Shota. It’s an important lesson for all of the students. As a matter of fact, I’m mandating an updated sex ed. course for the whole school at the start of next semester. The hero course in particular will need lessons on consent, body autonomy, and date rape drugs. Blush abuse is on the rise and several students faced it during their internships.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Shota admitted begrudgingly. “So you think the answer to me thinking Izuku is Stray, is to lean into it and act like he is?”

“If he were Stray, he would still be Izuku Midoriya underneath it all. Help him, Shota.”

 

Finally, at four in the morning, Ragdoll walked Izuku to the bunkhouse. “You get some sleep, Kitten. Breakfast is bright and early at six.”

“Right. Thanks. See you then?” he said, reaching for the doorknob.

“Eh, I think I’ll sleep in.” She yawned. “But I’ll see you tomorrow night, same time.”

“Cool.” He nodded, turning the knob.

“Goodnight,” she replied, stretching and turning to leave.

“Night,” he replied. Izuku watched her walk away. When she was twenty feet away from him, he sent his shadow under her feet. Izuku tracked her at that distance until she entered her cabin. He managed to slip his shadow under the door and track her movements as she got changed and into bed. Once he was sure she was asleep, he slipped into the trees and texted Kurogiri.

He met them in a small cave on a cliff overlooking the camp. Izuku pushed his face into Kurogiri’s chest, breathing in the scent of wool, cedar, and lavender.

“Hello to you too, Love.” Kurogiri gripped Izuku’s wrist and squeezed it gently.

Izuku gave a contented moan.

“You better cuddle quick, you got reading to do,” Tomura rasped at him. He pushed a stack of files at him. “The new hires finished their assignment. Stain has a bundle of new heroes on the chopping block. Pick your favorites.”

Izuku turned in Kurogiri’s arms and took the folders. “I can multitask.” He read the folder of essays about the disciplinary actions, or lack thereof, from Aldera Middle School, with his lips pressed in a thin line.

“You don’t look happy.”

“Did you release this?” He pulled Kurogiri’s hand up to his mouth but only pressed his lips chastely against his fingers. Mist tickled his nose and drifted down into his lungs with each inhale. 

“No, I wanted you to see it first. Kinda a late birthday present.”

Izuku considered this for a moment while running his fingers up and down Kurogiri’s side. “I appreciate the gesture, but we need to obfuscate it a bit better. Have them do the same workup for Shoto’s middle school, and I’ll get a list of –”

“They can figure out who to profile, it’ll be good to keep them a bit independent. They’re willful and full of themselves but they haven’t fucked up yet.”

“Okay, yeah.” He snuggled deeper into Kurogiri’s embrace and skimmed the hero profiles. “A bunch of worthless D-listers. Tell him to grow a pair and go after bigger fish, but release these profiles to the Internet and some local news outlets. Maybe have him hit one or two, just to keep him happy. This one is on the take, but, eh, he has a family. There’s really nothing good here.” 

“We need something bigger,” Tomura agreed. “I wanna make a statement. I just don’t know what.”

Toga spoke softly. “Rescue takes priority. I’ve only stood in for Stray a couple of times at school, but I’ve already heard it a lot. And Yuuei must mean it, the only outside heroes they’ve brought in to help are rescue heroes. But for a lot of Stainy’s targets, and like all of the media coverage, the most important thing is showy fights.” 

The three men looked at her. Slowly absorbing her message. Izuku nodded. “Add that to All Might’s over-marketed smile, and I think we might have a brand.”

“Oh, yeah, a smiling hero is never a good sign,” Tomura agreed with a vicious grin of his own. “A smiling villain is always a bad one.”

“We’ll need a more uniform look for the next attack,” Izuku realized. “See if Giran can get us something.”

“He just delivered some gas masks to deal with Mustard’s quirk; we can add some wicked grins to those.”

“Excellent! Okay, if Stain wants to go after such soft targets, tell him to go after pros that market themselves to kids. He wants to cull the unworthy, he should start at the bottom.”

“We’ll look at schools that produce villains, too,” Tomura agreed. “There is one other thing, and I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“Well, let’s hear it, then.”

“Sensei wants us to attack the training camp, preferably tomorrow or the next day.”

He furrowed his brow. “Sure, let’s use this as an opportunity to grab some blood for Himiko.”

“What would we even do with it?”

“Don’t have a clue. But we’ll think of something.”

Notes:

While I won't apologize for the 'late' update (no schedule is guaranteed), I will say that I'm posting this right before work, so if there are any formatting mistakes, spelling/grammar, etc. Let me know, I didn't go over it as well as usual. Thanks!

Chapter 73: The Chaos Before the Storm

Notes:

Happy Holidays!

“I am so bored,” Twice said in an energetic, if whiny tone. He followed with a deeper tone, “I love a nice evening at home.”

“Well, how about we introduce ourselves?” Compress asked. “Perhaps an icebreaker game?”

“I think it’s a little early for trust falls,” Magne said.

“Sounds like bullshit,” Dabi remarked. “We just gotta lay low until the ‘boss’ gives the word.”

Mustard nodded.

Muscular, on the other hand, got up and started pacing. “I can’t wait to get out there and crack some heads.”

“If,” the eyes of the seven gathered members of the ‘Vanguard Action Squad’ all snapped to the suddenly manifested form of Kurogiri, “you are so anxious I have something that will keep you occupied for at least a few moments.” He made a slow come-hither gesture at the broad man.

“It better be good,” Muscular replied, seemingly ignoring Kurogiri’s flirtatious tone.

As he lumbered past, Kurogiri nodded and murmured, “Oh, yes, you will do quite nicely.” The portal closed, and the pair was gone.

“Anyone want to play poker?” Twice asked. “Or go fish? Old maid? Uno?”

“I’d play Uno if you have it,” Mustard admitted.

Twice pulled a deck of cards out of the pocket of his overcoat. He shuffled silently as the others pulled some smaller crates around one of the larger ones. Mustard ended up sharing a side with Spinner, who was monitoring Stain’s media presence. Magne squeezed unnecessarily close to Dabi, while Twice and Compress sat opposite each other on the remaining sides.

“Stacking draws is against the rules,” Twice said as he dealt seven cards to each person, “which is why we’re going to allow it.”

“How about two truths and a lie, while we play?” Compress suggested.

“Fine,” Dabi said snidely. “I’ll go first, I think this is a fun way to get to know each other, and I already hate all of you.”

“Oh, you think you’re quite the comedian, do you?” Compress asked, sounding more unimpressed than annoyed. “Hating everything does not make you ‘cool’ or interesting.”

“Whatever, old man.” Dabi played a skip on Twice.

“Boo,” he said. “Good play!”

Magne went next, “I’m five-eleven, my quirk is magnetizing people, and my favorite food is pickles.”

Spinner side-eyed her while holding his hand above his head. “That's a lot of work for three inches.”

Magne sighed. “Six-three and a quarter.”

Compress thought carefully. “I used to be a stage magician, I committed my first crime to make rent, and I am proficient at throwing knives.”

“Huh. That’s a tough spread,” Magne said. “You lean pretty hard towards the ‘magician’ theme, so the first crime is a lie.”

“Unfortunately not,” Compress said with a wistful tone. “When I was fifteen, my mother lost her job and had a difficult time getting a new one. We were on the verge of being evicted. I went to crowded areas - tourist traps mostly - and did some street performing. It was enough to use for food, but not enough to make rent. So, I started stealing wallets.”

“What a tragic tale,” Twice said. “That’s hella messed up, bro.”

“You were definitely a magician, so you can’t throw knives,” Mustard said.

Compress nodded.

Spinner glared at the cards in his hands. “I’m a bit of an otaku, I made my sword, and I was bullied to the point of contemplating suicide before I saw Stain’s video.”

Mustard looked at him with open concern. “Please let it be the suicide.”

Spinner shook his head. “I’m from a rural area; there aren’t a lot of mutants there. I’m a loser nobody without any prospects, and being a freak just made it worse. I was on a site about, um, well, committing suicide, when I saw the video. I felt. I felt something other than despair for the first time in a long time. And I knew I had to do something.”

Dabi grinned. “Hell yeah, Lizard. We’re going to change the world, even if we have to burn it to ashes to do it.”

“It’s Spinner,” he growled, “not lizard.”

“That’s racist~,” Mustard added.

“Calling him by his mutation is almost as bad as dead-naming him,” Magne chastised. “It’s one thing to be ill-mannered and prickly, but that’s just unacceptable. Didn’t your mother teach you anything?”

Dabi sneered. “No, but sure, whatever. Spinner.”

“So, either the sword was made for you,” Mustard thumbed over his shoulder at the mass of blades belted and chained together, “or the Stain cosplayer isn’t an otaku.”

“Giran put it together for me.”

“I taught myself how to shoot, I was denied entry into a hero school because my quirk is villainous, and my mom’s cousin’s kid has a quirk similar to mine, and not being allowed to use it is literally killing him; I’m afraid mine could be the same.”

Dabi touched his scarred chin thoughtfully. “I buy that last one at least.”

Spinner nodded. “The school one too, if our recent findings are anything to go off of.”

“So,” Magne said, “who taught you to shoot?”

“My father. He was a common criminal, his quirk was worthless, but he never let that stop him. The idiot. He’s in prison for robbery. First, it was two years, then five, now it’s a full ten years. I’d be a legal adult by the time he gets out.” A grim and determined look settled on his face. “I won’t need him anymore.”

Twice laid down a wild card and declared, “Blue,” and then in a slightly deeper tone, “Yellow.”

Next to him, Dabi frowned. He played a blue nine, and when Twice didn’t protest, Magne played a seven.

“I got a job straight out of middle school to help my folks, I can duplicate almost anything with my quirk, and,” he paused, then blurted, “I don’t know if I’m a real person.”

“I want the lie to be the last one, but it hits too hard to be it,” Compress said solemnly.

Mustard nodded his agreement as he played a reverse on Spinner’s eight. “A quirk that can duplicate both organic and inorganic matter is too OP. My vote’s for that one.”

Twice made a short buzzer noise. “Incorrect!” More seriously, he added, “My parents died when I was thirteen.”

“Ouch,” Dabi said. He patted Twice’s shoulder. “I lost my family around the same age, man. It’s rough.”

Twice hugged him dramatically. “Two orphans bonded by shared trauma.” He added, “I can help guide you in this cold, cruel world, Dabi-kun. Like the little brother I never had.”

Dabi shoved him off, perhaps not as roughly as he would have at the start of the night. “Knock it off. If you wanna adopt a kid brother, why not that one?” He gestured to Mustard. 

The younger boy frowned. “Because I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Ha. Yeah, you could get work as a rent boy,” Dabi replied.

“How dare you!” Mustard snapped, standing up. “I’m every bit as capable as you!”

Dabi ignited the tips of his fingers.

“Hey! Watch the cards.” Twice stood up, slamming his cards down. “UNO!”

The others floundered for a second. They looked at the face-up skip and a face-down mystery card.

“Well, fuck.” Dabi slumped in his chair.

Magne studied her cards carefully. She played a green skip. “Sorry, Compress.”

He shrugged. “It’s the nature of the game.”

Spinner frowned at his hand. He drew four cards before he got one he could play. Unfortunately, it was another skip; this time, yellow.

Twice was silent. Then he drew a card. The others gave a small cheer. He slapped down the yellow four and said, “Uno again!” He added, “We’re supposed to be working as a team. Handyman isn’t playing a kids' game.”

“Yeah, but we’re going up against a bunch of kids,” Magne pointed out.

“And the pro heroes training them,” Twice said seriously. “Those kids are certified badasses.”  

“All right,” Dabi said. “I have three younger siblings, I can’t cook, and my favorite hero growing up was Endeavor.”

“A fire quirk user that can’t cook?” Spinner asked incredulously. 

“Are you kidding me?” Mustard snapped. “This spoiled brat is obviously an only child. It is the only explanation for his lack of social skills.”

Magne and Compress both snorted. 

“His fire burns too hot to cook with. He’d have to learn just like the rest of us, and if he ‘lost’ his family at thirteen, then he was never taught,” Magne said.

“Manners and other such niceties often fall by the wayside when one must struggle to survive,” Compress added.

“So he hates Endeavor?” Mustard asked.

“He has always hated Endeavor,” Compress corrected. “Maybe we can use the same methods to cause him a bit of grief.”

“We can’t go after him; he’s the number two hero.”

“We can look into him, honey,” Magne said. “Maybe send Stain his way. Maybe just ruin his reputation.”

Dabi smiled at her. “I’d like that a lot.”

Spinner started looking at Endeavor’s social media presence while Magne combed through online news articles about the hero. Dabi grinned and set to work checking for available information about Endeavor’s family.

“We were told to lie low,” Mustard said.

“We are,” Magne replied. “No one is leaving. We won’t get enough this way to do any real harm, but we could start outlining an article calling him out.” She shook her head. “Sounds weird coming out of my mouth, I’ve always been more of a doer than a talker.”

“Well, you’re good at both,” Spinner pointed out. “Your criminal record speaks for itself, and that essay is going to light more fires than Dabi.”

“Well,” Tomura’s voice came from behind them. “Then you’ll do well on your next task. I want you to give the same treatment to the schools of the rest of the Yuuei first years.”

“Aren’t we attacking the training camp next?” Twice asked. “Writing about snot-nosed brats sounds just thrilling.”

“That’s your current assignment,” Tomura corrected. “We’re going to customize our gear, then get some sleep.”

“Lame~,” Mustard said.

“What kind of customization?” Compress asked.

“Just a little paint and an unforgettable smile.”

 

Muscular found himself in an empty warehouse, a mostly empty warehouse. There was a hulking figure and Moonfish in his bag about twenty feet behind a man in a suit and full headgear. There was an aura of icy wind and a heavy atmosphere as if gravity was doubled in the area. Moonfish flinched when his attention was drawn to him. He was trying to inch his way closer to the hulking being, possibly for a little nibble.

In a deep voice that dripped like honey, he greeted Muscular, “Hello.”

“Hi?”

“I’m the man financing this little venture.”

“Nice to meet you, boss.”

“I have a task for you.”

“Sure,” Muscular agreed with a shrug.

“Tomura needs looking after. He needs someone to look out for him.”

“Like a bodyguard?”

He shook his head. “He’s losing his way.”

There was a long pause where Muscular wisely stayed silent.

“I need someone to get him back on the right path; to show him where he stands in the grand scheme of things. Can I count on you?”

Muscular shrugged again. “I’m not good a much except killing.”

“And that’s all I ask of you. Make sure someone, other than Tomura, dies.”

“Dusty said no killing,” he pointed out hesitantly.

“And I’m telling you to kill whoever you want,” was the icy reply.

It did not escape Muscular’s notice that Kurogiri flinched at the change in tone. He backpedaled hastily, “I wasn’t saying no. I just wanted to be clear. I’m not the sharpest.”

“Yes, you are something of a blunt instrument. But sometimes that’s what is needed.” With that, he dismissed them. “And, Kurogiri, I have a special errand for you.”

“Of course.”

 

Matsushita yawned and stretched. It was four-thirty, and he felt a little bad waking his students at this ungodly hour, but if he wanted them to cook breakfast and get in an hour jog, they needed to be up.

His female students were sharing a cabin with Aizawa-kun’s girls, so he took care not to wake any of the first years while he roused them.

“Time is it?” Hado-chan asked, sitting up.  

“It’s too early,” Haya complained, rolling over.

“None of that now, ladies. Up and at ‘em. I’ll be back in five after I get the boys.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Someone grunted and threw a pillow at him. Matsushita chuckled and made sure the door didn’t bang as he closed it.

 

Izuku was back in the boys’ cabin by five fifteen. He changed into a T-shirt that said ‘Muscle Shirt’ and a pair of yellow shorts with a silhouette of All Might’s head on the left leg. He booted up his DSR and loaded Animal Crossing. He was greeted by his green cat avatar, happily making katsudon in the ‘basic’ kitchen he had put in his tiny home. He loaded the game and managed to mail his native fruit (Limes) to his mother and Tomura when Aizawa kicked open the door.

“Good morning, students.” It was – almost – a surprise to Izuku that Aizawa didn’t yell. Thinking about it, Izuku realized he hadn’t heard him raise his voice that much; he’d snapped at him, sure, but he never yelled. “Breakfast is on the table. Get up, eat, and join me outside.”

The rest of the boys groaned and struggled to their feet. Even Todoroki, the early riser that he was, was a little sluggish. Izuku grinned. It was everything he could do not to whistle jauntily. He could feel Bakugo staring at him, waiting for a reason to strike.

“Morning, Kacchan,” he chirped. A pillow hit him in the back of the head.

“Explain.”

“Uh. Well, my quirk mutated.”

“Liar! How long have you been hiding this?”

Izuku looked down. He schooled his features into an expression of abject loss. “Kacchan, I… It started around the sports festival. I don’t really understand what’s happening, but Aizawa-sensei is helping me figure it out.”

Bakugo turned to Aizawa. “Then you explain; I don’t believe this.”

“His quirk strengthens exponentially. We’re still looking into the particulars.” The boy continued to glare at him. Aizawa stared back, his face a mask of bored indifference. He blinked after only twenty seconds, slowly and with a defeated sigh. His injury from the USJ incident was limiting the amount of time he could stare down a student.

Bakugo turned away with a huff. “Fine, whatever. It’s weird as hell, Deku.”

“Hurry up.” Aizawa turned and stalked off. He stopped to use his eye drops outside the dining hall.

 

“Research, essays, Social Media, and now arts and crafts,” Dabi said with a sneer, looking at the list of middle schools Tomura had given them. “Not to sound like Muscular, but when are we gonna do some damage?”

“If the paint’s dry, tonight,” Tomura replied. “So quit slacking.”

Grumbling, he returned to smearing a rough, red grin across the face of his gas mask. They would all be wearing them to avoid the effects of Mustard’s quirk; even Kurogiri, though his would be difficult to make out underneath his mist. They were slim models, no bigger than a medical mask, but with a series of hoses on them containing a complex filtration system.

Muscular was stuck with a full-face model that resembled a hockey mask. He refused to paint it, so Toga gave it the best ‘All Might’ smile she could. Moonfish couldn’t wear one due to his quirk, so Tomura doodled a few drippy, red grins on his gimp bag. Mustard already had a custom stahlhelm/gas mask combo with attached oxygen tanks. He had no issue painting the side of the helmet to match the League’s new aesthetic.

If the smile between the laugh lines was too narrow, it reminded Tomura of a poorly drawn Tie Fighter, and a few of them looked more like a tube in a set of parentheses, but he didn’t correct any of them. This was meant to be fun and unifying, after all.

“Everybody should get some sleep, then,” Dabi said, wiping paint from his hands. He ignited a small flame in his palm, and with visible effort reined it in enough that it turned orange. He moved from mask to mask, making sure that they were all dry. “Ugh. There. The decorations are done and the party is on.”

“Aw,” Tomura said, his voice already dripping with sarcasm, “we should make the little heroes a cake.”

Toga giggled. “We could prank them a bit first.”

Tomura grinned manically at her. “What did you have in mind?”

 

Izuku wasn’t sure what the googly eyes he started seeing after breakfast meant until Tiger opened the door to the dojo and was showered in lime green glitter and tiny gold stars. He couldn’t help laughing. It was cute that they missed him enough to prank him. Or they were just bored enough to prank the whole camp; either way, he thought it was sweet. The All Might smile graffiti was a nice touch; small, erasable, and in a different color for everybody.

“You think that’s funny?”

“I mean, yeah? It’s not like it hurt anything.”

“Did you do this?”

“Pff. Where would I find the time? You guys keep me training until four, and Aizawa got us up at five. As much energy as I expended, I could have slept for three hours!”

Tiger considered his alibi for a moment. “Sure, okay. You get warmed up while I get cleaned off.”

“It’s glitter,” Izuku pointed out.

Tiger shot him a menacing glare.

Izuku shrugged and started stretching with a content little smile on his face.

 

Toga slipped around the corner as Kacchan entered the room. She held perfectly still as he pulled out his toiletries and headed to the bathroom. She waited until the door was shut to continue peeling and sticking the eyes to everything she could. She only paused briefly to sprinkle orange glitter and itching powder on his futon.

 

Yaoyorozu was alternating between fatty meats, avocado slices, and soft cheeses. She opened a can of mixed nuts for a bit of textural variety. The lid popped off, and she squawked as a bright yellow spring snake flew out.

Next to her, Sato laughed around a mouthful of cake.

“It’s not funny,” she snapped. Yaoyorozu pressed her hand to her chest and focused on controlling her breathing.

“It was a little funny,” he replied defensively.

“If you’re a child,” she huffed.

“Rude,” he huffed back.

Yaoyorozu bit her lip. “Sorry. I think I need a break.” She stood and picked up the cheap plastic snake.

 

“No pink glitter, it might trigger Stray,” Tomura insisted as he sent Kurogiri back to the secret craft supply stash.

 Mustard and Twice were sealing liberal amounts of the stuff into tissue paper packets.

“This is lame.”

“It’s funny. Do like twelve more, take a peek at the cameras, and then get some sleep, kid. I want you well rested for tonight.”

 

Hagakure snuck passed Shoji. She tiptoed between groups of class B students, sparing. As she was slipping back into the woods, she almost tripped over a thin silvery line strung between the trees. She shrieked as she fell over a cloud of multicolored sparkles following her. Sitting up, Hagakure coughed and shrieked again. She hunched down and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Toru!” Shiozaki shouted. She whipped a mass of vines to cover the naked, and now mostly visible, girl.

“Thanks, Ibara.”

“Gah!” Bondo shouted. “It’s everywhere!” The glitter was sticking around his eyes. His glue-like quirk seemed to attract the diabolical little sparkles. “I’m never going to get this off! Who’s responsible?”

“Yeah!” Hagakure yelled from within the vines. “This isn’t funny!”

“Here,” Shiozaki passed her jacket to Hagakure.

“Thank you.” Hagakure poked her face out. Her delicate features were outlined in a silver shimmer, making her adorable pout pop as much as her long lashes.

 

Matsushita ripped the googly eyes off a tree and muttered, “Well, shit,” as a geyser of cola erupted next to him. It caused a chain reaction. Soda sprayed everywhere. The third-year girls all shrieked and ran for the dining hall.

“It’s okay, my animal friends! Please stay calm! It may take some time, but we’ll get you all cleaned off,” Koda called out to the fleeing animals. The birds and squirrels scattered into the trees. The little deer that had been resting its head on his knee had bolted at the first screech. He sighed and headed toward the showers to get a tub of water. “How thoughtless.”

 

Tomura pressed his hand to his mouth to keep from laughing. He’d slipped out of the kitchen to avoid the older kids being herded in to cook lunch. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect. He stepped into Kurogiri’s warp gate and disappeared as Eraserhead was rounding the corner, sputtering and spitting. He was covered in iridescent purple glitter and heart-shaped confetti.

Ragdoll laughed as she grabbed him a washcloth for his face. “That color suits you.”

“It got in my bento.”

“Aw, poor kitty. I think I have a clean bento box in my room. I’ll run it over to Snipe, and then grab myself a catnap. I want to be wide awake for Midoriya. Last night,” she yawned, “as I was headed to bed, I swear it seemed like he was following me, but he was also still at his bunk. I must have been exhausted.”

“Yeah,” Aizawa replied quietly, “looking after sixty kids and seven adults can’t be easy, even with your quirk.”

“Sixty-one, don’t forget Kota.”

“I wasn’t.”

 

Shinso wiped the Vaseline off the doorknob with his T-shirt. He turned the knob and kicked the door open. A bucket of water crashed to the floor. He smirked as he stepped over the mess of soap and glitter water. And gaped at the brightly colored mess of silly string covering the bathroom stalls. “Madness.”

Twice stood in the center cubicle, hands clasped over his mouth as the boy used the urinal, washed his hands, and left. He was racked with silent laughter and barely contained panic until a warp gate opened under his feet. He yelped as he dropped back into the warehouse.

 

Kurogiri dropped an empty cling wrap roll into the garbage can and warped out of the Pussycats’ communal bathroom. He took to heart Magne’s warnings about not messing with Tiger’s testosterone. After all, these were simple pranks, things that heroes would do to each other, and could all be blamed on the teenagers.

He made his way to the Pussycats’ sleeping quarters to swap a few items from room to room: a hairbrush, a pair of socks, and a cute bracelet. He put glitter bombs on each of the doors, and since he was already there, he could finish the errand that Sensei had assigned him. That way, he could tell him the pranks were meant to cause confusion if they were discovered.

Kurogiri quietly warped away as a small child stumbled blurrily to the bathroom. So much for well-laid pranks.

 

“Mirio!” Hado yelled as she threw a wad of light pink fabric at him. “Not okay!”

“Wha?” he held the fabric out, only to realize with a yelp that it was a pair of panties. “I didn’t! I wouldn’t!”

“I found them under Amajiki-kun’s pillow,” she said, hugging the boy in question. “I know it wasn’t him! It’s one thing to take my panties, but to try and prank Amajiki-kun like that is just mean.” Her cheeks puffed out as she glared at Togata.

“I swear it wasn’t me! Tamaki, you believe me, right?”

“I can’t use that pillow,” he moaned. He tried to pull away from Hado and curl into a ball, but she wouldn’t release him, and he ended up with his ear over her heart. Amajiki blushed bright red.

“You can use mine!” Togata declared.

Amajiki whined. “Not helping.”

 

Toga stalked her prey. Finally, she found the perfect moment. He was laughing at his classmate, who was covered in silly string; it wasn’t even a prank, they had just left the half-empty cans lying around. He leaned against the corner of the building. She secured the googly-eyed trigger at his eye level – making sure that the line attached to it wasn’t obvious – and slipped through a window.

“How?” Kacchan growled when he caught his breath and spotted it. “Mother fucker!” he shouted when he ripped the scowling face down, and a bucket of ice-cold, soapy water poured down on him. It was followed by red and white tissue paper. “Icy-hot! This means war!”

 

Izuku smiled as he saw the deep burgundy jute rope tangled on a tree branch. He pulled it down carefully. It was just long enough for a choker, and there was a small, heart-shaped knot in the middle. It was understated and discreet, just like Kurogiri. His heart fluttered, and a warm smile spread across his face.

“You are just about the only person enjoying today,” Todoroki said from behind him.

“Ah, well,” he said jumping a bit. He turned and scratched the back of his head, dislodging a cloud of pale blue glitter. “It’s just pranks. And given the sheer amount, I think it's Aizawa-sensei and the Pussycats trying to teach us observation and awareness.”

Todoroki cocked his head. After a minute, he nodded. “I could see that; if they weren’t all getting hit too.”

Izuku shrugged. “They cast a wide net; some fall out is inevitable.” His cheeks flushed as he stepped in closer. “Anyway, I, uh, I was wondering if you’d wear this.” He held up the choker. “Even though we’re spending a whole week here, we’re really not getting that much time together, so, um. It’s stupid, never mind.”

“I don’t have anything to give you,” Todoroki replied.

“Just knowing you’re wearing it would be enough for me,” he said breathily. The idea was turning him on. A choker Kurogiri made hanging around Todoroki’s neck. Kurogiri’s hands caressed that rope and worked deftly to tie the cute little knot. He could practically see black-purple mist entwined with the dyed jute strands.

“Alright, but as soon as I can, I’ll make you one to match.”

“I’d love it,” Izuku leaned in to kiss him.

“Ah-hem,” Aizawa said from behind them.

“We weren’t –”

Todoroki kissed him, slowly and deliberately. Their lips pressed together warmly. Their breath mingled in shallow bursts. As he pulled away, Izuku leaned in further. Todoroki asked, “Secure this for me?”

“Oh yes,” Izuku whispered. He wrapped the cord around Todoroki’s neck, tucked the knotted end through the looped end, and slid two fingers under the cord to check the fit. “Beautiful.” He settled the heart on Todoroki’s jugular notch, leaned down, and kissed it.

After giving Izuku a small, warm smile, Todoroki turned to Aizawa. “If you have a problem with us because we’re gay, I –”

Todoroki was cut off by a sharp bark of laughter from Aizawa. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care who you’re dating or what you do on your own time. I’m responsible for you while you’re here.”

Izuku took Todoroki’s hand. “He’s not homophobic.”

“How do you know?”

With a questioning glance to Aizawa and a subtle nod of permission, Izuku explained, “He’s married to Yamada-sensei.”

Todoroki was silent while he absorbed the information. “Oh. Okay.”

Chapter 74: Smoke and Fire

The lab was dark in a way that only windowless rooms could be. Kurogiri allowed his eyes to adjust to the only light source, the few tinted LEDs that adorned Sensei’s oxygen machine and the screen of his heart monitor. Once the thudding of his heart subsided, the steady hiss and beeping of Sensei’s life support was the only sound in the room. He waited until he was addressed, knowing full well that Sensei was aware of his presence.

“Ujiko informed me that you completed your chores early.” There was a cold edge to his voice. He was still angry. “Why?”

“Muscular and Moonfish needed time to rest, so they would be prepared for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Tomura decided to move the attack up. Whatever was stalling him, he has worked it out.”

“You mean he got Stray’s permission.”

“No,” he replied quietly. “When he informed Stray of the plan, he only told him it would happen.”

“Do not lie to me.”

“I am not. It would be futile.” He fought to keep his voice even.

“Then try again.”

“He asked Stray’s opinion on the heroes Stain was targeting next. It only confirmed his own thoughts that the –” he caught himself. “That Stain is working below his level. We posted the dossiers to the internet; his fans can handle them. Stain will be encouraged to choose harder targets; something in the double digits.”

“And what is Stray’s opinion on the upcoming attack?”

“He was able to give us a breakdown of class B’s students that was nearly as through as the one he did on class A. Given the higher amount of physical mutations in the class, our target pool is smaller; the exchange student, the five that made it into the final round of the sports festival, and the class representative, she was in a TV commercial. And of course, as sexist as it is the girls are all very cute and that will garner more sympathy.”

“And why did you risk alerting the teachers of tonight’s attack?”

“I had the opportunity to complete the assignment. I apologize if I was out of line.”

A smile slid across Sensei’s face. It sent a chill down Kurogiri’s spine. “Do you think Tomura will be upset with you when he finds out?”

Kurogiri was quiet for a long time. Finally, he replied, “If that was your intention, I’m sure he will be. I’m grateful that you are not punishing him for my shortcomings.” He bowed.

Sensei waves him off casually. “I’m glad you understand, friend.”

Kurogiri warped away before the twisting in his guts could give him away. Friend. Would Sensei be able to detect that lie the next time they were together? Would it matter to him? Had it ever been true?

He wiped his eyes, surprised to find them damp. When was the last time he cried? He leaned heavily on the counter as his vision swam with rain and rubble. He steadied his breathing. He was Kurogiri, he was the one who protected Tomura Shigaraki. Nothing more, no one else.

He opened Tomura’s door, to look at the boy. He was sitting on his bed, with the DSR Stray had gotten him.

“I was just planting the lime Stray sent me. Mama-bear sent me a peach with her friend request, I don’t know how Stray will feel, but I accepted.”

“Get some sleep,” he said tenderly.

“You too,” Tomura replied.

He nodded. “I’ll check on the recruits one more time, and then head to bed with Toga.”

 

“Fuck.”

“What’s wrong, Aizawa-kun?” Matsushita asked handing him a bowl of curry with the rice formed into a little bear. He grinned at Shota’s sour expression. “You can talk to me. Hell, in some cases you have to talk to me.”

“I caught Todoroki and Midoriya kissing.” He sat down on the steps.

“That’s not so bad, I’m sure they kept it PG.”

“PG-13, but yeah, they weren’t crossing any lines.”

“So what’s got you wound up?”

“Well, Todoroki thought I was being a bigot until Midoriya set him, if you’ll pardon the expression, straight. I really don’t like coming off that way. And Midoriya gave him a little heart-knot necklace, and he checked the fit by sliding two fingers under the cord.”

“So…” he shook his head confused.

“Did he learn that from me, when I… when I hurt him?”

“If he did, it shows he was still able to think, to pay attention during the incident.”

“I appreciate the silver lining view, but just because he handled it well doesn’t make it any better.”

“Except it does. You have a knack for knowing how far you can push these kids. Is it tragic that his limit is on the wrong side of acceptable? Heck yeah. But it’s not you that made him that way.”

“I certainly didn’t help,” he complained.

“I wouldn’t be sure about that,” Matsushita replied. “Midoriya absorbs whatever comes his way. Hell, Togata pressured him to go ‘Plus Ultra’ and despite knowing that pushing himself physically would result in breaking bones, he was going to do it. I made them spar instead, but that kid lives for adult approval.”

“His father’s not in the picture.” Shota sighed. “Ryo already told me he’s casting a wide net for male role models.”

“He could do worse.”

“He could do a fuck of a lot better.”

“Name one.”

“All Might.”

Matsushita pulled his glove off and felt Shota’s forehead.

“Knock that off.” He swatted his hand away. “What?”

“If you believe that, I’m’a call Recovery Girl, you are delusional.”

“What? He’s happy, successful, well-liked.”

“Ha. Yeah, no. He’s lonely, gotta persona so fake even he has a hard time telling the difference, and if success is measured in money, sure. Man’s got his face on toast.”

“Okay, okay. Yagi then,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Oh, fuck you.” Matsushita shoved his shoulder. “Seriously, though. The kid adores you.”

“Yeah, the bar is dangerously low and I still brought a shovel.”

Matsushita turned to his plate. “Alright. Yeah, no denying you fucked up. But try focusing on doing better going forward.”

“I don’t want to be too hard on him, but I don’t want to send him out unprepared.”

“He can take all the training you can throw at him, just give him a fair assessment and the occasional ‘at a boy’. Sad as it is, he’s that praise-starved.”

Shota’s shoulders slumped. “He’s admitted to having attachment issues and being attracted to just about every adult male in his life. It’s a bit of a tightrope act, you know?”

Matsushita nodded. “I’ve had a damaged student or two in the past. It actually helps that he knows about your relationship.”

“Less likely to boundary push out of respect for Mic?”

“Something like that,” Matsushita replied. “Just remember that he’s a good kid, and talking to him will smooth out a lot.”

 

After scrubbing down to make sure they were all clean of glitter, the first years were lead to the outdoor cooking facility. They moaned and bellyached about having to cook for themselves until Izuku laughed. “Get good scrubs. Hey, Tiger, are there any soba noodles? I wanna make Shoto’s favorite.”

He started sorting through the supplies. He pulled a few carrots, green onions, and garlic cloves. After getting Todoroki to start the cook fire he toasted some sesame seeds and started a simple sauce. Tiger brought him the noodles and a package of pork cutlets.

He seared them and caramelized some onions, while the noodles cooked. It didn’t take much effort to double the recipe Kurogiri had taught him, so it would feed ten people. He sprinkled the cutlets with cracked pepper, but paused when his fingers touched the ‘salt.’

“Oh, my god that smells so good,” Mina cooed.

Izuku grinned. “Check your salt, guys. Mines sugar.” He licked his fingers.

Bakugo shouted incoherently.

“Shoto, can you watch the pork, while I go fix that?”

“Yeah,” he replied confidently.

Izuku tasted Bakugo’s curry. “It’s not bad. You were light on the ‘salt’, so really you just need that and some garlic. Here, taste.” He put the tasting bowl up to Bakugo’s lips.

Reluctantly he tried it. It was a bit sweet, but he could fix it with actual salt and, “rice vinegar, not garlic, it has enough garlic.”

Izuku shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Kota! It’s time for dinner! Where are you?”Mandalay called from the porch.

“Maybe he’s with Ragdoll? I haven’t seen either of them since lunch,” Togata said.

Mandalay shook her head. “Kota is always running off. I just wish I knew where.”

“We could go look for him,” Hado suggested.

“It would make a good search and rescue exercise,” Todoroki said flatly.

Mandalay thought about it for a moment. “Okay, but the first years have to be back here by nine!”

 

Yagi had insisted on sleeping in the guest room. So, naturally, Hizashi had curled up next to him, despite his protests. Every two hours like clockwork, Hizashi made him eat. Leftovers and Shota’s bentos fed them all day, while Yagi insisted alternating that he wasn’t hungry and didn’t deserve the cute foods.

“These are punishment bentos. Do not derive joy from eating them; only sustenance.”

After an amused snort, Yagi settled down and ate the offered carrot slice.

“There’s a good boy. Now to call my other good boy and see how he’s doing.” Hizashi stayed on the couch with his legs draped over Yagi’s lap. “Hey, babe!”

“I’m fine, ‘Zashi. Matsushita-senpai made me a curry bear.”

“Send me a pic.”

Shota sighed. “Fine, but it’s half eaten.”

“Oh my god, that is sooo~ cute! We have to make that next time we do curry, Sho!”

“Sure.”

“I’m going to cook you such a dinner when you get home.”

“Nothing fancy,” Shota said into the phone.

“The fanciest.”

“Zashi, no.”

“Yes. You can’t stop me. I’m going to buy beef and everything.”

“Don’t –”

“Do y’all smell smoke?” Snipe’s tinny drawl could just be heard in the background.

Shota sniffed on the other end of the phone. “Yeah. Shit! The woods are on fire!”

“Oh, fuck,” Hizashi gasped.

They heard Shota’s phone clatter to the ground. Shota was yelling instructions and asking where the students were.

 

The cave was roomy with a large entrance. The ledge it was on was wide and over looked the camp. It was clearly man made. There were claw marks in the rock, but it was too big to be an animal. Kurogiri had dropped him and Muscular off at sunset. Tomura enjoyed watching the little dots run around making dinner in the aftermath of their pranks.

He pushed Muscular back into the depths of the cave when he heard footsteps approaching. He felt like he should have relaxed when he saw it was just a kid. He was definitely no threat, but Tomura still felt uneasy as the boy paced in front of the entrance grumbling about “stupid wanna-be heroes,” and “all they wanna do is show off.”

As it got dark, he hoped that the kid would head back to the camp, but he stayed, despite his grumbling stomach. Tomura did a quick search to see if there was anything about one of the Pussycats having a kid and quickly found that it was Mandalay’s dead sister’s kid.

“Selfish,” he muttered to himself.

“Huh?” Muscular asked quietly.

Tomura shook his head. “Leave it. We’ll try and sneak passed him once we see smoke.”

“Who’s there?” the boy shouted into the cave.

“Ah well. Guess I get to have a little fun with him after all.”

“No,” Tomura said firmly. The memory of his father flashed before his eyes unbidden. “You stay put.” He got up and slowly made his way to the mouth of the cave. “Uh, hey. I, um. I know I’m not supposed to be here. I –”

“Are you a stupid fanboy or a lousy reporter?”

“I’m definitely more ‘lousy reporter’ than ‘fanboy’. Heh.”

The kid’s stomach growled loudly.

“Shit, here.” He tossed the boy a bag of chips. “Look, I know you’re not going to take kindly to me being here regardless of my intentions, but before you run off and tattle to your aunt,” Tomura bowed deeply, “I’m sorry for your loss. I, my parents died when I was little, and I know nothing anyone says will make it hurt any less. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have everyone telling you, that you should be proud of the people who abandoned you; you should treat your aunt and her friends like family even though they could be ripped away from you at any moment. You have my deepest sympathies.”

“How did you find my secret hideout?” The boy stepped toward Tomura aggressively.

“Secret?” Tomura backed up. “You can see this place from the camp. I think they had one of the students training in here.”

“Shut up!”

“Heh. Sorry, sorry.” He held up his hands placatingly. “It is a really cool hideout.” Tomura could see smoke and Mustard’s light purple gas rising up out of the woods. Maybe the kid would be safer up here. “My father taught me what heroes really are. They’re people who hurt their own families to help complete strangers. It was selfish of them to leave you.”

“Tch. Go away. Everyone here is so crazy. Calling people stupid names like hero and villain; and killing each other because of it. Always focusing on their quirks. If they hadn’t been showing off they’d still be here. Idiots.” Tears welled in the boy's eyes.

Tomura wished he could comfort him, but words were meaningless and his quirk was dangerous. “Okay, we’ll leave. You just make sure you stay here.” He waved Muscular out of the cave.

The boy stood in slack jawed terror as the behemoth walked up to him. “Nice hat, kid. I like it. Wanna trade for this mask?” he reached down for the kid.

The kid shouted and turned to run.

Muscular leaped passed him. “Ah, looks like I get to have some fun after all.” His muscle fiber reshaped itself around his arms. As he increased his size, he slammed a fist threateningly into the rock face.

Tomura stepped in between them. “I said leave him alone.”

“He’s a perfect message to send to the heroes, isn’t he? No one is safe.”

“Don’t. I said no. We have other things to do, let’s get moving,” Tomura commanded.

“Come on, the real boss said I could kill as many people as I want.”

Tomura’s face went from angry to blank at the veiled mention of Sensei. “Did he now?” he stepped aside. “If the ‘real boss’ said so. That’s that.”

Muscular charged forward. Tomura reached out and touched his arm as he passed him. “Wha? What did you do to me?” he screamed as his muscle fibers flaked off. He tried to beat the spreading decay off of his arm. “No, no, no!”

Tomura stepped forward and laid a hand on his knee. Muscular tried to swat him away with his good arm, but Tomura danced backward gracefully. He plucked the mask off Muscular’s face as he went. “You’re not allowed to have nice things.”

The kid was hiding in the mouth of the cave now. Tomura walked over to him as Muscular disintegrated into dust. “D-don’t kill me.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.” He set the mask down a few feet away from the boy. “There’s about to be a lot of smoke and toxic gas, that will keep you safe.”

“Why?” the kid was crying.

“I’m the villain.”

 

Twice could feel the wavering existence of the two clones he’d made of Dabi. They were helping the real thing, along with Moonfish and a literal monster as bodyguards, create a wide fire barrier around the camp. The heat of Dabi’s flame was already damaging them and Twice was glad for a backup plan, as these clones were not long for this world.

Mustard stood beside him, filling the only gap, and as much of the inside of the circle as he could, with poison gas. The two of them were to stay out of the fighting as much as they could, but to take any opportunity they found to hit priority targets. Mustard’s field control was going to be the difference between success and failure for the small team.

Spinner, Compress, and Magne were the main strike force, while Stray was to rove around on his own terrorizing the students and Kurogiri was warping around, delivering the next set of clones as they were taken out and replaced.

Twice could hear distant sounds of teens shouting change from a confidant search party to frightened children as they discovered either the gas or the fires. “It’s finally started.”

“About time they noticed,” Mustard huffed.

“Patience is a virtue,” Kurogiri chided lightly.

 

Dabi watched his little brother, the masterpiece, as he searched the forest with a group of friends; a pair of mutations from his class and that green haired quirkless kid. He felt bad for the kid, so he instructed Moonfish to separate the rejects from the legacy.

“Not targets,” Moonfish moaned piteously.

“Just do it.” Dabi shoved him toward the students. “Meat, Fishie.”

Moonfish started to babble and eagerly wigged down the hill at them.

 

“Perfect,” Magne said as she spotted a pair of students starting to cough and hack in a small clearing. “The plain one is on the list.”

Spinner looked at the pair, thankfully that they could leave the beast mutation unharmed. It was truly undignified for the weaker and less capable wanna-be hero to ride around on his back like that. “Magne, Compress, can you two distract the other mutation while I handle the target?”

The pair nodded sharply.

“I know just how to separate these boys,” Magne said. She focused her quirk on the pair. The rider was sent flying and the beast was pushed into the dirt.

Spinner stepped out to face the boy as he dropped to the earth. Wielding his massive sword, he declared, “Let us test your worth, hero.”

 

His student’s were in danger. Shota had Mandalay instruct everyone to return to camp, and authorized them to use their quirks in self-defense. It was all he could give them. Then he and Matsushita headed for the ring of fire. It was spreading unnaturally and they couldn’t risk that those responsible would drive the fire inward.

The heat was oppressive even at a long distance. He understood why as soon as he caught sight of the blue flames. The fire would be a minimum of four thousand five hundred degrees Fahrenheit.

There was no telling what support gear was built into Matsushita’s steampunk gas mask, but night vision was high on the suspect list as the sniper whipped out his sidearm and fired at an assailant Shota hadn’t seen yet. The shot was a clean through and through just above the knee. The villain laughed as he liquefied and mostly evaporated due to the heat. The villains had a cloner.

He could hear roaring in the distance and hoped it wasn’t more bad news.

 

A gout of flame erupted from the ring of fire the trio was following in hopes of taking out the fire quirk user maintaining it. Amajiki produced a giant clamshell to shield himself and Nejire, while Mirio dropped into the earth to avoid being burned; not that the ground was all that safe, the closer to the fire the hotter the soil was. At a hundred and eighteen degrees, human skin starts to sustain first-degree burns; at a hundred and thirty-one degrees, it becomes second-degree burns.

Nejire fired a blind shot in the direction the flame had come from, hoping to distract the villain so Mirio could get the drop on him when he popped back up. Her energy blasts missed, exploding a few trees in the wall of fire. The villain laughed, but at least he was distracted.

Naked and steaming, Mirio was flung up from the ground shouting ‘Power!’ and hit the patchwork villain with both fists. Amajiki used the opportunity to wrap him in strong tentacles. Nejire shrieked when her blast hit him center mass and instead of being incapacitated, he exploded into a wet mess.

“It’s a quirk,” Amajiki said quickly as he dismissed his singed tentacles. “He wasn’t real.”

Nejire took a deep breath, puffed her cheeks out, and shouted at the muddy goo, “Don’t scare me like that!”

 

Twice produced a Stray clone as soon as he felt the first Dabi clone collapse. The second was not far behind. Kurogiri warped them into the fray as soon as they were complete.

Toga caressed the shiny new clone of Stray, and giggling she pulled off his mask. A gasp slipped passed her lips when she saw his face. He had a short muzzle and a pink triangular nose. It was too cute.

“Give that back,” the clone said in a deep unnaturally tinny voice. “Quit messing around. We have a job to do.”

“I know,” Toga said letting him snatch the mask back. “I just wanted to see how accurate he was with missing information.”

“I’m not sure I believe that you’re the real Stray, and I’m a clone; given how you’re acting. Where is the target?”

She laughed. “This way, I’ve been stalking our sweet Kacchan all day. It’s time to have some real fun with him.”

“Remember, we have orders from Tomura to only wound them.”

“I would never disobey Tomura,” she replied skipping ahead of him.

 

Shota stared up at the beast. He didn’t see its bluish skin, bird skull head with horns, a single eye, or the spines protruding from its four arms. He didn’t see the trees or wall of fire. Shota’s vision was dominated by smooth black flesh littered with red scars, an exposed brain, and a beak full of jagged teeth. Then he saw blood.

Despite the tangle of his scarf whipping around the clearing, he barely dodged the thing’s multiarmed swing. His heart pounded in his chest. Snipe’s gunfire was oddly grounding, although the fact that the thing was shrugging off the slugs was concerning. Snipe was keeping his distance, but he’d run out of bullets eventually. “You hit the eye, I’m going for the brain.”

Shota lassoed one of the horns and used a tree for leverage to hold the beast still. The tree was ripped from the ground and slammed into the thing.

“’coz I haven’t been trying for that since the first ricochet,” he huffed. He holstered his gun and pulled out a combat knife. “Yeehaw.” He dashed toward the creature.

“Don’t!” Shota shouted, panic clear in his voice.

Snipe leaped onto the creature’s hunched back. Gripping one of the pronounced vertebrae of its spine, he rode the nomu as it flailed and bucked to throw him off. It slammed two of its hands into the ground and reached back to grab him with the other two.

Shota rushed in the current fight blurring and overlapping with past traumas. He could do this. Garvey’s frog-like appearance, superimposed over the nomu in his mind. He snagged a downed tree in his capture weapon, shouted, “Move!” to Snipe, and slammed it into the nomu.

Snipe flipped off its back, tossing his knife at its single eye as he did. The blade sank to the hilt sending blood and vitreous humor gushing out. The nomu roared again and reared back only to be brained with the tree.

The two heroes slumped momentarily, to catch their breath before running on to find the fire user.

 

Kurogiri manifested in the improvised classroom. The Stray clone rubbed its face along his side as it moved passed him. He chuckled at Twice’s impression of the boy. Or rather, Twice’s impression of Toga’s impersonation of the boy. The cat-like nose and mouth were an interesting design choice as well.

“Do not fear,” Kurogiri stated calmly, “this will all be over soon.”

“Get back!” Vlad King shouted as he charged forward. Blood sprayed from his gauntlet, as he decked Stray’s clone. It crystallized around its torso as Vlad drove it to the floor.

The clone lashed out with its shadow, slamming Sato into the wall, then knocking Kamakiri out, and finally bashing Tetsutetsu into Kirishima. It laughed; a deep, tinny, and unnatural sound. It disturbed Kurogiri that it was a cruel and mocking sound, rather than his love’s usual mirth.

The vine-haired girl from the other class, Shiozaki, created a thorny barrier between them. A quick-thinking Monama copied her quirk and did the same as Kurogiri used his warp gates to trim away the vines.

After a few punches, Vlad gave a startled yelp as the clone melted into a muddy grayish-brown substance. He quickly reabsorbed his blood and turned to Kurogiri, only to be faced with another clone walking out of his warp gate.

Sato was quickly pinned to the wall by his throat. Kirishima and Tetsutetsu were using their hardening quirks to protect themselves from the vines and the crushing portals. Shiozaki and Monama were pressed back to back to feed him a continuous copy of her quirk.

Vlad tackled the Stray clone. “You monsters! These are students!”

The Stray clone dropped Sato, in favor of wrapping its shadow around Vlad. The hero growled and grunted under the force. He felt his ribs straining under the pressure. Vlad spread and hardened his blood over the clone's face.

Kurogiri opened a warp gate behind Shiozaki and Monama. Wordlessly he pressed tightly against the boy as he grabbed the girl by the back of her head. Her vines whipped wildly at him but found only mist, and her classmates' soft flesh. One managed to wrap around his wrist as his other hand reached around them with a knife. Terror filled Monama’s eyes as he dragged the dull jagged blade diagonally from her right temple across her nose to her left cheek. One could almost hear it scraping the bone over her pained scream.

She sent a massive tangle of vines out, not caring if they smothered friend or foe. Not one to shirk his duties, Kurogiri slashed the boy’s ear, neck, and shoulder even as the clone popped and the vines threatened to crush his protective collar.

He blinked out of existence and appeared in the pick-up zone near Twice and Mustard. He frantically ripped the still-writhing vines off, having to discard his badly bent collar. His wrists, his neck, and even his face were wrapped in thorny vines. Clean but bleeding from the thorns, he ignored the sounds of combat. Tomura would arrive soon and they could leave. He curled under a bush to wait and catch his breath.

He wasn’t feeling ill it was just the adrenaline. That they were young meant nothing. After all, he was their age when… when…

The world went dark and the last thing he saw was a young man dressed in black swinging toward a monster.

 

The giant sword sliced through the air. Awase jumped back, giving ground over and over. He kept glancing between the sword and Compress. Each time the sword slammed into a tree he would hit as many of the blades as he could to weld them in place. Spinner would strain to pull the weapon free. It got smaller and lighter each time, allowing Spinner to attack faster.

Magne taunted the boy while she and Compress kept him from leaving the path. “Plain and unmemorable,” were among her favorites.

Awase changed direction suddenly and rushed toward Compress. He smacked his coat and welded it to the boulder he was standing on. This distracted him long enough that he barely ducked the incoming blade. “Careful! Someone could get seriously injured!” He quickly shed the trench coat and hopped through the trees to get ahead of the retreating hero.

Magne bashed Awase in the gut to keep him from escaping. Spinner grimaced as he readied the blade for another swing and Magne hopped out of the way. “This is harder to use than I thought.”

The giant sword sliced through the air driving Awase back again. He was panting and coughing now. The sword bit into a tree and he ran instead of welding blades to it. Spinner strained less to pull the weapon free; due to how loose it had become it still shed a few blades.

When Magne tried to block his escape again, Awase kicked her in the gut. It was a relatively weak blow. He staggered into the woods and collapsed at Compress’s feet. He was reaching for the pocket that his friend had been stored in. Magne approached him with her magnet raised.

“No,” Spinner snapped. “He’s a – He’s potentially a true hero. We’ll leave him unharmed, with a reminder to –”

Magne slammed the magnet down. It never made contact as Spinner tackled her. There was an outraged roar behind them.

“Oh, my,” Compress said, “he seems to have escaped.”

Spinner glared at him but pulled Magne to her feet and shoved her at the bestial student. He tied his Stain eye mask on Awase. “Remember, you are a worthy hero.”

The three of them cut their losses with the mutant, and Magne sent him flying into the woods where he smacked into a tree.

“That was a dirty trick, Compress.”

“We have our orders, dear lady. Wound only. Let us not tarry in the beast’s range.”

Chapter 75: The Deep Dark Woods

The wall of blue flame had cut Izuku, Tokoyami, and Shoji off from Todoroki. Izuku activated One for All and dashed to the side, attempting to go around the fire. He had only made it a few meters when he heard Shoji scream. He doubled back to see Moonfish slithering towards Shoji’s severed hand moaning about flesh and feeding.

Tokoyami had been keeping Dark Shadow under wraps but in his shocked and horrified state, he lost control. The giant shadow roared in a blind rage and swiped at both Izuku and Moonfish. Izuku dodged and Moonfish sent out a forest of blade-like teeth.

Shoji and Tokoyami were already coughing from the thick purple fog. Izuku knew he had to act fast. Covering his face, he plowed into the mass of teeth, shattering many of them. He was nicked and scraped but he landed next to Shoji.

One of Dark Shadow’s powerful claws crushed him into the earth before he could ask if Shoji was okay. He felt like he was drowning in the cold depths of the ocean. The beast grew in size, pulling energy from Izuku. He struggled to breathe.

“Dark Shadow, stop!” Tokoyami gasped out. He cried out as a bladed tooth sliced his shoulder.

Dark Shadow roared again; in fear, anger, and confusion. He shattered the tooth, smashed trees, and swung wildly at anything that moved.

Izuku sent his own shadow out searching the ground for Moonfish. He was held aloft by his teeth, growing and retracting to transport him like so many skittering spider legs.

Moonfish moaned and mumbled, “Pretty. So pretty. No. This is work. So alluring. But no. Can’t... Pretty flesh. Gah! So enticing though... Gotta do the job.”

Izuku could feel everything around them; the severed hand, Tokoyami and Shoji, the dripping blood, the heat of Dabi’s flames, the cold steel and cutting edges of Moonfish’s teeth. The ocean did not subside; rather it seemed to fill him. Dark Shadow’s rage and fear, his concern for his friends, his thoughts and memories flooded Izuku’s mind, flitting about like schools of fish as slippery and alien as the creatures of the deep.

Although he could already feel bile rising in his throat, and the increase in Dark Shadow’s anger at the desecration, he wrapped his shadow around the hand and shoved it into Moonfish’s face.

“Dark Shadow, he is a friend! Release him.”

“Fleshhh... Flesh. Need flesh...” The teeth retracted allowing him to bite down on the hand. Dark Shadow roared and slashed at Moonfish again.

The pressure was released from Izuku’s torso. He took a deep breath, fighting passed the pain of cracked ribs. He started to tense and relax his muscles while controlling his breathing the best he could. One of them had to be in control and focused for this to work. It wasn’t going to be Dark Shadow. He wrapped his shadow around Moonfish, teeth and all, and squeezed.

Dark Shadow wrapped his claws around the thing that hurt his friend and squeezed. With every heartbeat, Izuku felt colder. Even his Shadow began to grow numb. His vision blurred. He fell to his knees.

Moonfish went still and Dark Shadow dropped him. He curled his massive form around Izuku.

Shaking, Izuku clambered to his feet. Heat was behind him. Heat would chase away the numbness. He staggered blindly forward. His shadow guided him, even as his healing pleaded for the heat, to Moonfish’s still form. He wasn’t dead. He could feel a pulse in the soft flesh of the man’s neck as he struggled not to break it.

He reached the husk of a villain, pushed his hood off, and pinned his head to the ground. The bone of Moonfish’s skull creaked under the pressure. Izuku held the unconscious man’s jaw open and began ripping his teeth out one by one, muttering, “You’re not allowed to have nice things.”

 

Dabi grinned behind his mask. “Well, if it isn’t Endeavor’s little masterpiece. How’d you get that scar? Not living up to Daddy’s expectations? Being the favorite isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it?”

Shoto touched his scar. “Any vendetta you have with Endeavor cannot be settled through me.” He sent a burst of ice toward Dabi.

“Ha. You can do better than that. Can’t you?” Dabi clenched his fists, focused his power, and threw his arms wide. Throwing his arms forward, he emitted a massive blanket of flames to engulf the ice and Shoto.

Shaking off the heat, Shoto growled and launched an imitation of one of his father’s fire attacks.  He sent out ice in a skittering crisscross pattern. The chill hit the hot front and the ice popped and exploded. The villain’s gasmask cracked just above the macabre red grin.

Dabi discarded his mask and wiped a fleck of ice off his cheek only to find a cut beneath it. “Creative.” He produced a lazy tornado of blue flames. Other than overwhelming force, his techniques seemed familiar.

While regulating his internal temperature to keep from burning, he struck on an idea to stop the attack. He sent a wave of ice underground. It was similar in execution to his father’s ‘Hell Minefield.’ The cyclone faltered and collapsed as the updraft was canceled out.

He continued filling the area with ice. The frigid air burned his lungs, so it must have been painful for the fire user.

Unfortunately, Dabi just threw his head back and laughed from on top of a pillar of ice. Smoke or steam poured out of his mouth like a dragon. “You can’t beat me, Shoto Todoroki!”

“Endeavor failed to return your fan mail?”

“Fuck you, masterpiece. Like I’d waste my time and energy writing a man that abandoned his children.” He laughed again. “Not that you’d know anything about that, masterpiece.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Why? You’re the only one he ever cared about!”

 “I’m not Endeavor’s favorite! He never loved me. I’m just a tool to surpass All Might! He’s never cared about anyone but himself!” Shoto screamed back.

Dabi stood on a tree limb and let his flames die.

“I hate him. He’s never happy, nothing is ever good enough, and the only thing that matters to him is being a hero! He doesn’t care that he drove his wife insane, that she hurt me! She hurt me because of him... She hurt me. She did this! I hate them both! And they both still assumed I’d just follow along and be a hero; that I’d just fall in line! That I’d break up with my boyfriend because straight couples with kids look better in the press! They never gave me a choice! Any choice!”

“Do you even wanna be a hero?”

Shoto looked up at this stranger. He looked into the fiery turquoise eyes of this villain that moments ago was trying to kill him. “Y-yes!” he choked out.

Dabi sneered. “Just like Endeavor.”

“No!”

“All Might, then.”

Shoto shook his head. “No. Like Solstice and Bonfire. Like Eraserhead.” Shoto smiled. It was a shy, soft, and sweet smile; like the first ray of sun poking out from the clouds after a storm. “Like Cheshire!”

“Who?”

Shoto blasted the base of the pillar next to Dabi’s perch. It toppled over into the tree. The weakened branch snapped. Dabi was dropped into the hot mud the pair had created. “My boyfriend.” He tackled Dabi and punched wildly; a savage salvo of blows to his face and body. He bloodied the villain’s nose and blackened his eye.

Dabi focused his firepower into one fist and let loose as he slugged Shoto in the side of the head. The boy was pushed back, and Dabi scrambled to his feet. “This has been… enlightening, but that’s the last bell. See you around.”

He skittered into the forest and Shoto started to chase after him. The shouts of his classmates stopped him. He turned back to assist the scared and injured trio.

 

Tomura picked his way through the forest. He knew where everyone was supposed to be, so it was easy to avoid them, and the hero students were so loud. There was a roar in the distance. The kid gave a terrified gasp and hurried his little steps to walk closer to Tomura.

“Careful,” he said pulling his hand away from the kid. “You saw what happened to Muscular.”

“You-you said you weren’t going to hurt me.”

“Not on purpose, but it’s always on.” After another roar, he tried to soothe the kid. “That’s not one of mine, so it must be a good guy.”

He had thought about taking the kid to the pros directly, but that would just start a fight. And he couldn’t bring himself to take the kid that close to the fighting. He settled on taking him back to the camp and letting him pick a place to hide. “Here we are; home sweet home. Where’s a safe spot to drop you?”

“If you’re a villain why do you care?”

“You said it yourself kid,” Tomura huffed. “Hero and villain are just labels that people kill each other over. Nobody’s a hundred percent good or evil. You’re just a little kid. It sucks that you’re involved in this shit. Both that your parents got killed, and what’s happening now. If you or your family gets hurt today, it’s my fault. Understand? I’m attacking them, they didn’t go looking for this.” He turned to look at the kid.

The white mask with a red smile stared back at him.

“The guy up there? He’s the one that killed your parents. If that doesn’t make you feel any better, there’s nothing I can do that will.”

The kid watched as he disappeared back into the fog.

 

Kurogiri was in the fetal position under some bushes, so Twice changed tactics and cloned him to replace the lost Stray clone. That way they could still warp out when everyone came back.

“There are two people approaching from that direction,” Mustard informed them as Twice adjusted Kurogiri’s gasmask.

“We should avoid them if we can,” the clone suggested.

“Why don’t you just take ‘em out, kiddo?” Twice called. “You handle the first aid, I’ll handle the heroes.” He gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Mustard paused. “Let’s just stay here, if they get too close we take them out. There are only two of them. It makes sense that some of them would have avoided my gas and made their way here.”

If he was reading the fluctuations in his gas correctly, the incoming pair was having no trouble moving around in it. That meant they had gas masks of their own, and he could pilfer one for Kurogiri. All the same, there was no reason to stand in the open and get beat up when he had a clone available to him. He quickly shimmied up a tree, pulled his gun out, and flicked the safety off. “Kurogiri, get ready. And get one of their gas masks if you can.”

Below him, the Kurogiri clone blinked out of existence, and Twice disappeared into the brushes. One of the two students who burst into the clearing was the redheaded class representative. Mustard’s hands were trembling as he pointed his gun at her. He took a steadying breath and reminded himself that they weren’t supposed to kill anyone if they could avoid it.

The other student charged out of the fog. Mustard changed targets and slowly squeezed the trigger. He clipped the boy’s gasmask, deftly knocking it off his face. He felt more than saw the Kurogiri clone warp the mask away. Coughing, the boy coated himself in metal. A neat quirk to be sure, but it did nothing against his gas. All Mustard had to do was wait the boy out.

The girl was still going to be a problem.

“Please remain calm,” the clone said appearing behind her.

She rounded on him with her enlarged fist, but he blended into, mingled almost, with the gas. She rolled out of the way of his return swipe. Narrowly avoiding her oversized fist, Kurogiri seemed to dance through his gas, as if the interplay between them gave him as much information as it did Mustard.

When the boy tried to engage the pair, Mustard fired another shot, towards his feet to avoid a ricochet. The girl enlarged her fists and began swiping madly at the gas; either trying in vain to dissipate it, or she had figured out that he could track them with it. Unfortunately for her, the gas was taking its toll on her companion. The boy collapsed to his knees.

Mustard risked repositioning to get a clear shot and fired at the downed boy. It ricocheted off his metal back and into the forest. He fired again, this time at the girl, heedless of the danger to the clone.

The bullet hit her enlarged fist. The Kurogiri clone turned to glare at him, its momentary lapse cost it. The girl managed to wrap her massive, bleeding hand around the clone and crush it.

Fortunately, Twice had sneaked around behind her. He used his measuring tape to choke her out. The edge bit into her neck a little, making for a gruesome, if harmless scene. When she went limp, he tossed her on top of her companion.

“Oh, yeah, we should get their blood while we have the chance,” Twice said. “Let’s just head to the extraction point!”

Mustard just nodded and jumped down from the tree. He filled his vials from the girl, while Twice cloned another Kurogiri, and secured a few vials from the boy.

 

Toga was pleased to find Kacchan by himself. It was a pity she could only wound him, but his pride was such a big target. She kept the clone in line as they stalked him; waiting for the gas to slow his movements. Finally, he stumbled and she nodded to the clone.

It grabbed him and dragged him squirming and screaming to her feet. “Hello there.”

“Fucking die! Let me go. I’ll kick your ass!”

“You’re not very heroic. Always swearing. So violent. And only ever thinking about yourself.” She knelt beside the struggling hero. “But I can help you.” She reached into the shadow cocooned around him. It parted easily for her. It didn’t tug or cling like the real Stray.

She ignored the popping and crackling as he struggled to attack her. The gas was doing its job, though, and he wasn’t anywhere near as strong as he would have been. Straddling his arm, she began scraping the skin off his palms.

“Why are you doing that?” the clone asked in an irritated tone.

“You’re a clone, so I don’t expect you to remember,” she said looking up at him. “But he tried to kill Kurogiri.”

The clone squeezed him tighter.

“Ah, ah, ah. No killing~.”

 

Magne swatted the horns aside with her giant magnet. “Nice try girly!” She kept half an eye on them to ensure that they were disabled. The damned things had torn her shirt when they first attacked and pinned Compress to a tree. Luckily, he escaped using his quirk.

The boy had turned most of the ground to mud and sent Spinner into the trees. He could hold his breath for an impressive amount of time, but not forever.

Magne grinned maliciously as he dove back under. She charged towards the mutant girl; both bashing her in the side of the head with her magnet and brushing her with her fingers. She moved back avoiding the deep mud as much as she could.

A hand grabbed her leg and tried to pull her under. Magne activated her quirk and sent the pair slamming into each other. She was briefly dragged under but managed to kick him off. The kids were stuck together and disorientated. Magne took the time to bash the girl’s pretty face again and knock a few of skull face’s teeth out, before collecting blood samples and heading back to the pickup spot. She dragged her magnet and clutched her bruised side.

“Kurogiri?” Compress called into the cheap comm. “Magne requires a pick-up. Spinner and I will continue acquiring samples and tracking targets. I believe there are only a few targets left. The class rep, the metal boy, the vine girl, that copycat, and most of the girls.”

“Well done,” Kurogiri replied over the comm. “Those four have been taken care of. Please return safely.”

After Magne was swallowed up by a warp gate, Compress and Spinner moved silently through the shadows. They ducked into bushes and leaped from tree to tree avoiding the few students that started showing up with gasmasks of their own. Not having the stomach for deliberately mutilating children, Compress was focusing on the secondary mission. He circled the edge of the camp looking for anyone that had succumbed to Mustard’s gas.

He was drawing a vial or two of blood and compressing the children. Who knew what damage the toxic gas would do to them? He gathered blood a bit indiscriminately as it was hard to remember who was who among the first years, and he had no intel on the older students. “You can’t tell the players without a scorecard.”

When they were headed to the pick-up point, Compress dropped down from the trees. He spotted the holy grail of blood to collect for whatever quirk experiments the League was involved in. The invisible girl was slumped against a tree breathing heavily in her gas mask. He approached from behind and deftly jerked her mask off.

“H-hey!” she shouted. “Another one? Over here!”

Thinking quickly he compressed her and leaped back into the trees. Her friends rushed into the area and he directed Spinner to distract them before taking off. Once at the evac point he dropped down and found all his vials were full. Luckily, Magne’s were all empty, and intact.

“Excellent! You just sit here, uh, next to the passed-out Kurogiri. Maybe try to wake him up?” He took her set of empty vials and popped the girl out of the marble. “Now just stay calm. If you breathe too deeply or quickly you will pass out sooner.”

There was gunfire nearby – two shots – and she must have thought it was Snipe because she ran in that direction; Slamming straight into Tomura.

“Hey, hey, careful. We’re not trying to kill anyone, today.”

She yelped and turned around. She was surrounded but they weren’t in the best shape. Despite being woozy from the gas, Hagakure tried running again. Compress followed her at a leisurely pace while Tomura went to check on Kurogiri.

Magne had put her gas mask on him and he seemed to be recovering. “Where? Shota?” he shook his head. “Ow. Uh. Tomura, thank god you’re okay.” He paused for a moment. “Where is Muscular?”

“He, uh… he didn’t make it.”

“You abandoned him to make your escape from the heroes?”

“Yeah... let’s go with that.”

               

Nejire, Mirio, and Amajiki ran toward the gunfire in the hopes that it was their homeroom teacher. They were right. He was firing at a pair of skittering villains. He hit one of them, turning it into a splash of muddy gray goo. “Damn.”

Mirio, already naked and covered in scrapes and bruises took a reflexive step back. Then he charged towards the fray. Snipe swore when he spotted them, and several other third years joining the chase. “Hado! What the heck are y’all doing here? You should be back at camp!”

“We were looking for the rest of the first years. Mandalay sent us back out.”

Aizawa swore. “Get back to camp! Now!”

 

Hizashi stared at his phone in horror. Yagi pulled his own out. He dialed Nezu first, the principal would be able to coordinate fire and rescue; plus he knew the location of the training camp. Yagi explained quickly, “Someone is attacking the camp! Mic was on the phone with Eraser. The line is still open. The woods are on fire?! Where are they?”

“I’ll call a fire suppression team,” Nezu said, sounding calmer than he could have been.

“That little bastard!” Hizashi yelled. “First the club and now this!”

“Please,” Yagi begged. “We don’t even know if it’s the League yet!”

“Well, it’s not your pranksters! Who else could it be? Can’t Shota catch a break?” he rubbed his face with both palms.

“Nezu, where are they?” Yagi asked urgently.

“Local heroes are responding as we speak. It’s being taken care of.”

“Nezu, I have to be there for Izuku.”

“If we are to avoid tipping our hand, you have to stay put. The students will return home tomorrow, you can see him then.”

“Damn it, Nezu!”

“I am sorry.”

 

Tokoyami stood silently beside Izuku as Mandalay changed out the ripped shirt for real bandages. Kota was clutching her leg, and still wearing the gruesome gasmask she’d found him in. They were all grateful that the fog was lifting.

Tokoyami turned his head and stared at the concerned expression on Izuku’s face.

Shoji chuckled. “It’ll grow back.”

“I’m glad.” I’m sorry, Izuku didn’t say. He slumped down and groaned. “Well, that’ll throw some pizzazz into my next few nightmares.”

Tokoyami let out a bark of laughter. “Do you have nightmares often?”

He shook his head and replied, “Only when I close my eyes.”

After testing to make sure the bandage was secure, Shoji stood and joined them. “We should find a quiet spot to talk, somewhere where we won’t disturb anyone.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Let’s.” Izuku led them over to one of the camp’s outbuildings and quickly scaled it. “Wha’d’ya wanna talk about?”

“What happened out there?”

“I, uh. Trauma?” he shrugged.

“I’d believe trauma,” Shoji said.

“Dark Shadow,” Tokoyami hissed.

“Yeah, sorry, I know I said I’d steer clear, but there weren’t a lot of options, you know.” He brushed his hand through his hair.

“Your shadow,” he demanded.

Shoji looked away.

“Uh,” Izuku paled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing is going on with my shadow.”

“I saw – I saw it holding that-that monster as you ripped his teeth out!” Tokoyami whispered.

“It was dark. It was chaotic.”

“Do not treat me like I am stupid. Why did you save us?”

“You’re heroes! I’m a hero, it’s what we do!”

“Are you a hero?”

Izuku stared at him. It was such a simple question, but it cut him to the core. “Yes.” David Shield could be saved. He could be saved. Tomura could be saved. “I’m going to save everyone.”

“You have a funny way of going about it,” Shoji commented.

“He can’t do crime anymore.”

“You are Stray.”

“Don’t.”

“He saved us,” Shoji said.

“He did,” Tokoyami agreed. “Who counts as everyone?”

Izuku smiled softly at him. “Some villains aren’t evil; they’re just people we haven’t saved yet.”

“You want to reform them?”

“Yeah, heroes don’t get to choose who they save, but… Don’t we save more people by preventing crime?”

“This is not prevention.” Tokoyami spread his arms out to gesture at the woods.

“It could have been a lot worse. You have no idea what we’re dealing with.”

“Then tell me.”

Izuku stared at him for a long time. It was the only way they’d keep quiet, but even then, they might tell the teachers. He needed a good cover either way. “There’s this villain, he’s been kidnapping people and taking their quirks…”

 

Madness surrounded them as Shinso and Kaminari made their way back to camp. The smoke was bad but the fire meant that the poison gas was burnt off in that area. Shinso felt so helpless. Without his capture weapon, he wasn’t going to be of much use. His quirk was more suited to villainy than heroics.

… there are a lot of things you can’t make people do …I’m aware of some missing time… That puts any creepiness squarely on your personality and not your quirk…

He smirked as his insane friend’s comments on first meeting him floated reassuringly through his mind. He could do this. He was more than his quirk. He could practically taste blood in his mouth. Midoriya was friendly and lovable, easy to get along with, and just a walking ray of sunshine; usually. When pushed, when backed into a corner he was hard, mean, and took no prisoners. No quarter asked for and none given. Somewhere in the middle of those two extremes, Shinso had found himself a best friend.

It was an odd thought to have in the middle of a combination forest fire and villain attack, but it spurred him on. Midoriya would give him no end of shit if he just gave up and hid, or worse let Kaminari protect him. So, when a pair of thugs stumbled onto them he slammed bodily into the bigger one and shouted for Kaminari to light up the woods.

Shinso punched hard and wildly at the cat-boy (wolf-boy?) he had borne to the ground. Blood splattered as his knuckles scrapped teeth and bone cracked as his hail of blows rained down recklessly. He paused mid-swing, both proud he had the control and terrified of the hesitation, as the body beneath him went slack.

Behind him, the trees lit up, not with Kaminari’s electricity, but with a mass of blue flame. Kaminari sent a jolt of electricity out at the fire user, only for it to arch and spark on what looked like medical staples holding his skin on. The villain hissed and swore. Kaminari stood stunned staring at what had to be third-degree burns blossoming around the heated metal.

Shinso was booted in the gut and sent sprawling. Then Stray was slamming Kaminari’s face into the side of a burning tree. He screamed and his quirk went crazy.

Shinso leaped into the air with no real thought of where he was landing. He only hoped that he stayed airborne long enough to avoid being electrocuted. He bounced off a tree and flipped higher into the air. His stomach dropped as he crested the arc and gravity kicked in. He wished desperately for his capture weapon. I’m never going anywhere without it again.

His feet hit the ground and he crumpled into a graceless roll. Rocks and sticks poked and scrapped him as he tumbled to a stop. Save for the roar of the fire and Kaminari’s little ‘Whey-whey’ noises, the forest was quiet. The madness was in him now. Shinso kipped to his feet. He had to protect his classmate. His heart raced, but the villains were gone.

 

Dabi was leaning heavily on 'Stray', as they limped toward the extraction point. They ducked behind trees or straight-up ran (to the best of their ability) when they spotted anyone. Dabi yanked 'Stray' off the path, and hid behind a chard log, to avoid a trio of girls, one of which was being carried. When they stood up and brushed themselves off, 'Stray' lamented that their comms weren’t working, due to the electrical discharge.

“At least they’re not melted,” Dabi replied, patting the little cord dangling from his coat’s collar.

 

Nezu sat at his desk coordinating the rescue crews and writing up a standard letter to send out to the parents in the morning. He sighed as he updated individual reports as needed. Fire crews were reporting a fire hotter than the pine forest could support.

He sipped his tea and replied to All Might’s pleading. “Stop, or you’ll get a form letter like the rest of the parents.”

All Might sputtered. “Nezu, Izuku is not my son. He’s my successor.”

“If you say so.”

Chapter 76: A Break in the Clouds

“A villain that can steal quirks?” Tokoyami repeated. He was facing away from Izuku and pinching the bridge of his beak. The oversized black hoodie he wore smelled faintly of sweat and strongly of smoke.

“I know it sounds out there,” Izuku said with a defeated gesture. He paced back and forth along the edge of the roof. The twenty-foot drop alternated between being nothing and an endless branch-filled abyss. Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Izuku turned toward Tokoyami.

Shoji sounded like he was repeating himself as he half-stepped between them and asked, “Why kidnap a kid when he could just take the quirk?”

“Gotta store it someplace,” Izuku replied. “He can’t keep them all in his own body. There must be an upper limit to both his storage capacity and what his body can adapt to.” He began muttering. His hand twitched as if itching to grab a pencil and start scrawling. Getting lost in quirk analysis was a far more appealing option than either facing his trauma or dealing with his inevitable downfall.

“I don’t know,” Tokoyami turned to face him again, “why should we believe you?”

Izuku sighed. “I get that this is a lot. But I’m telling you the truth as I understand it. So, I guess the answer depends on if you can trust me because all I have to give is my word.”

Shoji looked hesitant, and then said, “I think we should give him a chance.”

“He’s participated in two attacks.” Tokoyami’s feathers bristled.

“He’s trying to keep these villains from killing us,” Shoji countered.

“It could be a trick.”

Shoji shrugged. “Could be.”

Izuku sat on the edge of the roof. “Do whatever makes you comfortable. I don’t know what the right thing is here, but I won’t stop you and I won’t hurt you.” He laid back and stared at the sky. The wash of stars visible without the city’s light pollution and the thick swaths of smoke reminded him of the sky above the flat, featureless plain in his dreams. He curled his shadow around himself like a comforting blanket. Izuku could almost hear the steel-eyed woman’s voice in his ear.

Survive, no matter what. Live.

“Tomura has come a long way since I first met him,” he said as if to himself. “If I could get him away from Shigaraki, he’d be harmless.”

Tokoyami snorted. “It’s hard to believe.”

“I know, but he is being used as a front. I’d like to ask you to give me more time, but I’ll understand if you can’t. This whole thing puts the two of you in an awkward position. I’m sorry. I wish, I hope, but in the end, I just have to trust you to do – to know what the right thing is.”

“It’s been four months between attacks, do you think they’ll attack Yuuei again?” Shoji asked cautiously.

Izuku was quiet. “I can’t be sure. Shigaraki wants to shake people’s faith in hero society; to-to cause social unrest. He has some sort of personal vendetta against All Might. I think that’s why Yuuei became a target in the first place.” He sat up, his gaze locked on some point in the dark distance. The pine branches swayed in the turbulent winds created by the drastic changes in temperature. He had to force himself not to get lost counting the pinecones.

His view was blocked by the female vestige, by Shadow Bind. She signed slowly and clumsily at him. Good faith, give proof.

Izuku furrowed his brow at her. Faith? Proof? He didn’t have any of either.

Give… secret. Give resource. Give I N T E L. Give to get time.

He understood then: it didn’t matter to her what he gave Shoji and Tokoyami, so long as it bought him – them? – time to think. “For this to work, there has to be a show of good faith on my end. Let’s think about this logically. What are my claims?” He counted them off on his fingers. “Mysterious big bad, quirk theft, and kidnapping. I think that the last one would be the easiest to prove. I could get a sample of Tomura’s DNA, then find someone to run it and prove he was kidnapped as a child. Give me until the end of break?”

“A whole month?” Tokoyami said skeptically.

“It’s a short enough period, that if I fail you wouldn’t have kept this secret for long, but long enough that I can actually find the proof I need,” Izuku turned to smile at him. It was a warm, kind smile; hopeful if weak around the edges; like he barely dared to think they would so much as consider agreeing, and understood their hesitancy to do so all too well.

“All while keeping up on your summer homework,” Shoji chimed in.

“And engaging in villainous activity,” Tokoyami pointed out.

“I do as little of that as I can, but I’m kinda in between a rock and a hard place.”

“You used Bakugo, even injured him to protect that monster. He’s supposed to be like a brother to you, what does that mean for the rest of us?”

 Izuku shrugged. “Siblings fight. Besides, I knew he could handle it, and everything I did to him was superficial; easily healed by Recovery Girl.”

Tokoyami nodded. “So be it.”

Privately Izuku thought – or was it the vestige’s thought? – it was a shame he wasn’t ready to kill, as that would be an easy solution to this particular problem. His smile shifted from hopeful to fond as he watched the pair silently question their decision. Suddenly he leaned over the edge and vomited. He couldn’t even stomach defanging a serial murderer who was going to kill his friends. He could never hurt them.

 

Kurogiri was still breathing deeply from Mustard’s oxygen tank. He had been able to warp them away from the camp and back to the warehouse. His hands were shaky. His heart was either beating too fast or too slow, and he could not tell which. “I- my apologies, Tomura Shi–”

He was cut off by Tomura. “Shush. You were injured. You took on a teacher and a field controller in a tight space. I mean that bitch bent solid steel.” He gave a nervous laugh. “Are you okay?”

“I…” He took a deep breath. “I will be fine. My injuries are largely superficial.”

“Good, good.” Tomura patted him gingerly on the shoulder. “I gotta patch up Toga, er, Stray.” he grabbed a first aid kit. “Dabi might need a real doctor, though.”

Toga sloughed off her disguise and some of her injuries. “I’m okay, Tomura. I can help patch up Dabi.” She licked the blood off her own teeth. She was grateful for the size difference between them now. Stray’s nose had been broken and his skull fractured in several places. While she would be covered in bruises for weeks, her quirk has insulated her from most of the damage, even the electrical burns. “Lean forward, Dabi. Here’s some gauze. If you lean back the blood just drains down your throat.” She grabbed a pair of pliers and started helping him with his staples and piercings.

Compress was tending to Magne. After helping her clean the mud off, they found that she was battered and bruised, with ribs broken on both sides, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle themselves. “Try not to move around too much, dear lady. We can’t deal with a punctured lung in-house.”

Tomura carefully stitched and bandaged Kurogiri’s injuries. Spinner was able to patch himself up, including a nasty scorch from an energy blast. Mustard and Twice were scurrying about making sure everyone was well supplied, and that the blood was stored properly. Eventually, Twice looked Toga over to make sure she was relatively uninjured and gave her a tee shirt of his to wear, so she wasn’t naked.

“Nice to meet you, Toga-chan,” he said as he applied a cold pack to her cheek.

“Likewise.”

 

The comments of the fire suppression team echoed in his ears. That’s Endeavor’s boy. He can handle a section by himself. I worked with his father once. He’d have a firebreak in place in no time. Endeavor really brings much-needed respect to those with fire quirks. Can you get me his autograph? The deafening roar of the flames was a welcome break from the mindless praise. The fire hissed and sizzled as he laid a wall of ice over the top of it. Shoto had to work slowly to keep the ice from exploding.

Turquoise eyes haunted him every time he blinked. They were burned into his memory. He felt so familiar, but Shoto was sure he’d never met the villain before. It nagged at him. Nibbled and gnawed at the back of his mind; selfishly keeping a part of his attention. Frost crept beneath the earth sprouting under the flames and snuffing them out. The eyes stared judging him. Trees were encased in ice, sparing them from the heat. Quips and barbs circled his ears.

“I told you he could handle it!”

“Ha! As expected of the son of Endeavor!”

“You did your old man proud!”

Shoto longed for the padding in his hero costume as the firefighters clapped him on the back each in turn. He nodded at them; little drips of slush fell from his fingers on the right side. “My actions are my own.”

 

The fire had circled the camp. The fleeing animals were scared and confused. Koda had led a fox and her kits to the camp, letting them rest near the hot springs. He’d asked them about Kota before he found out that the boy had returned to camp. She hadn’t seen him.

Apparently, she was staying away from the camp due to the arrival of the students. “Huge, noisy predators. Very dangerous.”

He asked her if she’d seen any other humans.

“All day, running from the clearing by the safe creek to the human den. Chirping and calling to each other. They started to smell like the den. I assumed they were joining it as well.”

“Can you describe them?”

“One of them was scaly, but I didn’t see the others. I hid.”

“It’s okay. You have kits; you couldn’t have done any differently. Did you see any other animals in distress?”

“I don’t know for sure, but there’s a rabbit warren to the south of the human den.”

“Thank you.”

 

Shota began gathering his students when he spotted Midoriya on the roof of the dojo with Tokoyami and Shoji. “You three, get down here! Stay next to this bus.”

Midoriya jumped down, almost as if he were eager to end whatever private conversation had sent them up in the first place. “Sure thing.”

The other two were far more careful coming down. Shota checked Shoji’s bandage.

“It’ll heal.”

“Don’t you start with that,” he replied warningly.

“Sorry,” Shoji scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It looks bad, but it’s not like it’s lost forever. My Dupli-arms are capable of making duplicates upon duplicates. One of those was cut off.”

Shota sighed. “Just stay here.”

“Yes sir.”

Three.

 

Coughing despite the gas mask Yaoyorozu had given him; Kirishima spotted a figure trying to sit up on the side of the path. The fire burned off most of the sleeping gas, but neither was fun to breathe. He wasn’t sure which was responsible for the headaches everyone seemed to have.

As he and Sero approached, he could make out that it was Bakugo. He was shaking and unable to put weight on his hands. “Hang on Bakugo! We’ll help you!”

“I don’t-don’t need your help!” He shouted hoarsely, slipping as he tried to stand. “I’m not weak. I don’t need help from an extra like you!” He shoved Kirishima away.

Blood smeared on his Crimson Riot tee shirt. “Your hand.”

“Shut up!”

“Bakugo,” Sero snapped, “the extras always support the lead.”

The blonde blinked at him. He coughed.

“We’re going to bandage your hands, then we’re going to carry your dumb ass back to camp.”

“He took my quirk,” Bakugo said weakly. “He said I wasn’t allowed to have nice things.” Tears poured down his cheeks. 

“Jokes on him,” Kirishima said as he helped Sero rip strips off his shirt, “you’ve got us.”

 

Yuga hid under a bush. He sobbed. He couldn’t do anything. Yaoyorozu had given him a gas mask and instructions to get Jiro and Hagakure back to camp. It had been slow going dragging both of the girls, and his stamina had depleted quickly. He took to dragging them one at a time, about ten to twenty feet, and then doubling back for the other.

The girls were just regaining consciousness when, after leaving Hagakure sitting next to a tree, he’d heard her scream for help. He did the only thing he could. He left Jiro to save Hagakure. He was too late and the fight with the lizard man had been terrifying. When he’d finally scared the villain off, by winging him with his laser, he was relieved, but could no longer hold himself together.

Yuga choked out another quiet sob.

“Hey,” Jiro called softly. “Are you injured?”

“Non,” he managed.

“Then come on.” She coughed. “He went this way.”

“They took Hagakure. It’s all my fault.” He curled in on himself.

She grabbed his shoulders. “You are not responsible for the actions of villains. You didn’t bring them here! Now, get up, and let’s get her back!.”

“Merci, même si tu mens,” he replied, hauling himself shakily to his feet.

“Uh, you’re welcome.” Jiro led him deeper into the woods.

 

Shinso was guiding the burned and derped-out boy. He didn’t have anything in the way of first aid. He removed the burning clothes from Kaminari and turned his own tee shirt into a makeshift skirt for the boy. “You’ll be okay.”

“Whey,” he said weakly, giving him a trembling thumbs-up.

“I know, it hurts.”

“Whey,” Kaminari staggered towards the camp, “whey.”

Shinso mimicked his thumbs-up. “Okay. Let’s get back to camp. What works?”

“Whey-whey!”

“Teamwork.” A smile crept across his face. “You’re telling me you’re okay. We can do this.”

 

After finding Aizawa’s phone – because Yamada was shouting from the speaker – in the grass, Matsushita had mercy on the gathered students. He ducked into their rooms and grabbed their phones for them. Izuku was thrilled to have a distraction, but his stomach dropped when a news feed he subscribed to had a breaking news announcement about the attack. It was vague, just a single line about it being a second attack on Yuuei this year.

He called his mom. Her voicemail picked up so he left a rambling message. “Hey, I know the news is scary right now, but I’m fine. I’m okay. It sounds worse than it was. Most of us were out in the woods doing a search and rescue drill. I was with Shoto, Tokoyami, and Shoji. We’re all okay. There was a fire and some villains, but everyone seems okay so far. I’ve got my phone with me now, obviously, so call me when you get this. But don’t worry if I don’t pick up, we might be in transit by then. I’ll try to call again before we leave if I can, but it might be late by then. Anyway, I love you. I’m okay.”

Hanging up he checked the time. It was almost nine. He laughed, quietly at first. A little chuckle that grew into barely muffled hysterics as he clapped his hand over his mouth.

“Izuku?” Todoroki asked. He put his hand on Izuku’s shoulder.

Izuku buried his face in Todoroki’s chest. Slowly he calmed down. “We, uh um, we’re on time.”

“What?”

“Mandalay said we needed to be back by nine.”

Todoroki blinked at him. It was absurd, but… “I’ll update my social media. Class 1-A is punctual.”

Izuku’s phone rang; his mother’s ringtone sounded frantic to his ears. “Hey, I’m fine. …Mom, take a deep breath.  …I’m not hurt. …Of course, it was scary. …I know. I don’t mean to worry you. That’s why I called. I’m okay.”

The students around him began calling or texting their own families.

 

They found Hagakure, passed out in the middle of a clearing, twenty or thirty minutes from where they’d lost her. There was a small puncture on her arm, and some dried blood around it. Even after she was given Aoyama’s gas mask she didn’t wake up. Jiro kept him calm as he carried Hagakure through the woods.

“Her pulse is steady, and she’s breathing, even if it’s a bit shallow,” she reminded him as they picked their way through the charred remains of the forest. “Plus, she doesn’t have any obvious injuries, and her pupils aren’t dilated.”

“It’s my fault.” He sighed and readjusted Hagakure on his back.

“You can’t blame yourself, Yuga. You didn’t cause this. As much as we wish we did, we can’t control villains.”

“Je leur ai donné notre emplacement,” he confessed in French, knowing she didn’t understand him. “Ce n'est pas la première fois.”

“Uh… emplacement? Oh, yeah I don’t think the camp is too far now. Do you want me to carry her the rest of the way?”

“Non.”

 

Mina was carrying Asui. She was surprisingly light. Uraraka was with them, keeping the way clear of enemies. They hadn’t seen any, but they had seen forms running through the forest. They were thankful that the fire didn’t seem to be spreading in their direction.

“Ah!” Mina shouted.

Uraraka was beside her in an instant. “Oh, that’s Awase!”

The boy in question sat up gripping his head. “Where… where’s Shishida?”

“I’m here,” he replied roughly. His hands and wrists were covered in cuts and bruises. He panted heavily. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“Villain attack,” Uraraka said. She started checking Awase for injuries.

After assessing Asui, Shishida offered, “I can get her to camp faster.”

“Ribbit,” she murmured. “I can. I can walk now, I think.”

“Are you sure?” Mina asked. “You were knocked out.”

“Y-yeah. It’s embarrassing to be carried like this, a second time. I’m starting to hate fire.” She slid down from Mina’s back. While she was shaky on her feet her low stance made up for it somewhat. “We’ll be safer if we stay together, anyway. Ribbit.”

 

Twenty rabbits of various ages hopped along behind him as Koda carried an armload of the oldest and youngest. “Did you see any of the humans that arrived today?”

“The yellow furred one. So stealthy, yet she never pounced on her prey. There’s a patch of mint that the humans put there. They don’t mind us eating it. The new humans ran around the warren all morning. I was so frightened for the human kits. But they left without killing any. I was relieved. And then they brought the fire and death. I thought we would all be killed. I am the oldest to survive.”

“What else did you see?”

“A green one,” said one rabbit.

“A grey one,” added another.

“A black and white one with lots of patches.”

“The smoke one was scary,” said a younger rabbit.

“Not as scary as the big one,” remarked another.

“All humans are terrifying,” said the old rabbit.

Koda nodded as he let them into the washroom, quietly promising to bring them some food.

 

Students trickled in slowly, usually carrying a classmate. Shota’s heart dropped into his stomach when Sato carried Yaoyorozu in. He rushed over. Trying to take vitals and check for injuries even as Sato hauled her to the waiting ambulance.

“I think it’s just quirk exhaustion,” Sato told him. “Yaomomo made so many gas masks.”

Shota brushed her hair out of her face as she smiled weakly at him. “Okay, good. You two did well. If they don’t take you to the hospital, then go sit by the bus.”

Seven, eight, nine, ten…

“Thank god,” Sero’s voice interrupted his count.

Three more students were accounted for, but Bakugo was bleeding through his makeshift bandages. The EMTs met them with a stretcher as the boy was slung between his classmates. He was pale and shaking as he tried to push them away, growling, “I’m not weak. I don’t need your help.”

Sero and Kirishima hosted him on the gurney. “It’s okay, bro. Let them do their job, okay?”

“Whatever,” he all but snarled.

“You’re going to be okay, Bakugo,” Kirishima said.

“I don’t need your –”

Shota made it to them and grabbed Bakugo’s wrist. “You need to go to the hospital.”

The EMTs didn’t even remove the tee shirt bandages. They put an oxygen mask on him and generally ignored his protests as they took his vitals and loaded him into the ambulance.

Moments after the last ambulance left, Aoyama staggered into the camp. Hagakure was still unconscious on his back. Jiro was trying to support him. Both of them were coughing. Shota sprinted towards them with a first aid kit.

“Here,” Shota said lifting Hagakure off Aoyama’s shoulders. “Take the masks off; the filters are full of soot and poison.”

Jiro ripped hers off and then assisted in pulling Hagakure’s off. Shota carried Hagakure over to a group of mats and a few oxygen tanks. He slipped an oxygen mask on her as Jiro practically dragged Aoyama over. Shota took Hagakure’s vitals on autopilot, before moving over to the two of them. Jiro was unscathed, but Aoyama had several cuts and bruises.

“Okay,” Shota said. “When the ambulance gets back see the EMTs. If they clear you, join your classmates by the bus.”

“Yes sir,” Jiro replied weakly.

“Oui,” Aoyama said. He flopped down dramatically and did not put an oxygen mask on.

Shota stepped over him wordlessly and fixed the mask on the boy’s face.

“Sorry,” Aoyama managed. “I, It’s…”

“Shh. Just breathe. You’ll be okay. Hagakure will be okay.” He patted his student’s shoulder. Three, four, five, six… he mouthed slightly as he began counting his students again.

 

Yagi stepped off the bus, shivering despite the residual heat of the fire. Nezu was perched on his shoulder; whiskers twitching as he took in the myriad of information his animal senses brought him.

Smoke and fear dominated the odors, though the tang of blood still hung in the air. The distant roar of the dying fires and shouts of the rescue crews mingled with the soft murmuring of the gathered students. His students were battered, bruised, and covered in soot and ash.

Shota had his students lined up in four neat rows. He stood behind them softly muttering. “...fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…” Bakugo, Hagakure, and Kaminari had all been sent to the hospital. Mostly his students had received IV fluids or oxygen and several of them were bandaged, but they were all sitting up and alert; chatting and comforting one another.

Matsushita’s students were handing out bottled water and coordinating with the EMTs. 

Kan’s students were no better off. Monama and Shiozaki were already in transit to the hospital, Kendo and Tetsutetsu were seated in the back of an ambulance still on oxygen, and Tsunotori and Honenuki were covered in bandages.

Shota gave a frustrated grunt. “One, two, three, four…”

“Aizawa-kun, please update me on the situation.”

Chapter 77: Polygraph

Naomasa was overworking his quirk, monitoring multiple interviews at once. Nezu hadn’t told him why he wanted everyone’s statements verified, but the old dog-bear-mouse had a record of odd hunches turning into case-breaking moves. So, he limited the number of officers taking statements to six and set them up in a semi-circle a ways away from the busses. The rest were sent to ‘secure the perimeter’.

He started with the pro heroes to get a baseline of the events. He could sense the heart rate, blood pressure, respiration, and skin conductivity of every person in the semi-circle. If any of these indicators of autonomic arousal fluctuated, he would mark it in his notebook. It was also a signal to the officers to discreetly mark the answer they had just received.

Next to him officer Tamakawa was interviewing Eraserhead. Once the control questions were dispensed with the interview started in earnest. “Where were you when the incident started?”

“We were on the back steps of the kitchen, finishing dinner.”

Baseline.

“We?”

“Snipe and I.”

Baseline.

“Present Mic called to check in on how the students were doing, so there should be a time stamp on my phone, but I think it was seven, almost seven thirty when we noticed the fire.”

Baseline.

“Why was Present Mic checking on the student?”

“Two of mine are transfers from his gen. ed. class.”

Minor elevations.

Naomasa furrowed his brow and jotted a note down to follow up on Eraser’s transfer students.

It could be he’s just more concerned about their wellbeing, given their newness to the course.

“Ah. Continue.”

“Snipe smelled smoke, and we spotted the fire in the woods. We alerted the Pussycats and began coordinating the students. Mandalay sent a telepathic message instructing them to return to the camp.”

Back to baseline.

“Where were they?”

“Out searching for Mandalay’s nephew. He has a habit of running off.”

Baseline.

The Pussycats all had minor elevations around the same time; Naomasa noted it but assumed it was about the kid. It would be gentler to follow up later.

Tamakawa nodded. “Mandalay told the students to return to camp?”

“Yeah, then we noticed the gas. Visually it was covered by the smoke and it was definitely flammable. It was some sort of knock-out gas, but it mostly stayed concentrated to the north of camp, in the only gap in the ring of fire.”

Baseline.

“We assumed that was where the villains would be, so Tiger, Snipe, Pixie-bob, and I headed that way. Mandalay stayed behind to relay messages as the students filtered in.”

“Where was Ragdoll?”

 “I don’t know. I hadn’t seen her since lunch. She went back to her room for a nap; she was up late training one of my students. His quirk makes it so he needs less sleep.”

“How was she?”

“Tired.” He shrugged. “She said her quirk was acting weird.”

 “How so?”

Eraser hesitated. “Like she was seeing people in two places, blurry. I don’t know that much about it.”

Major elevations; Eraserhead is lying.

Naomasa furrowed his brow and signaled Officer Tamakawa to press the line of questioning. His ear twitched, the only indication of his confusion. “Can you remember what she said?”

 Eraserhead sighed. He looked directly at Naomasa and replied, “We were headed into the kitchen to grab drinks and I got hit by a glitter bomb; it had hearts in it.”

Still elevated, but not too much. Why would he even be concerned about a prank… Yagi’s pranksters?

After a pause that told Naomasa he was being read back, Eraser added, “I have deuteranopia, so I don’t know what color it was. It looked blue and silver to me. Iridescent.”

He was definitely annoyed, but the confession brought him back down to his baseline. Naomasa nodded for him to continue.

“She laughed and got me a washcloth. She complimented the color and said it suited me if that helps you narrow it down. I complained that it got into the bento Snipe had fixed me. She offered me a clean bento box from her room, so Snipe could make me a new one. She said she’d take a nap after, so she’d be well rested for her turn at the late-night training. Then she told me her quirk had been acting up.”

Mostly benign baseline reactions, but… “Why do the bentos make you nervous?”

Eraser sighed again and slumped his shoulders. “It’s a disciplinary action. Midoriya, the student that doesn’t sleep much, I made a mistake during a training exercise.”

“That’s not how you’d put it,” Naomasa pressed.

“I fucked up.”

That at least was true. He glanced around at the other heroes being questioned. “We’ll come back to that.”

“She said it seemed like he was following her and still at his bunk at the same time,” he mumbled.

Naomasa wasn’t sure if he could furrow his brow any harder. Eraserhead was deeply anxious about that line of questioning but seemed like nothing more than quirk exhaustion. He was very curious about the ‘training mistake’ now. “Tell me about the pranks.”

“They started appearing around breakfast time. We never found out who was doing it. They slowed down by lunch. I think whoever did it stopped and the rest of the day was just people still stumbling into them. They were annoying but harmless.” He paused. “Someone left cans of silly string around camp, so we couldn’t really get a read on who had started it.”

The rest of the interview went smoothly. Eraser did get a little emotional when telling them about the students returning to the camp. He was taking a short break to rest his quirk before starting with the students. He had Eraserhead lead him into the kitchen for a glass of water.

“So,” he prompted.

“So. I was training Midoriya off-site, to prepare him for the hero course. I – he –”

Naomasa let his concern show on his face. “Eraser.”

“Oh – god no, nothing like that! He looks like Stray,” Eraser explained.

“He does?”

“I can’t see green. His hair just looks black. And the way he moves. I just… I fucked up. I tried to get him to confess to being Stray. But he isn’t. When Ragdoll said he was weirding out her quirk, I-I just pushed it aside. I can’t let myself think about it. I still. I can’t get it out of my head. They look the same.” He put his hand over his face. “I know he’s not, but it still feels… he’s so cagy about so many things, but he’ll admit to the strangest stuff. He thinks everything is his own fault. And it always feels like he’s lying when he smiles unless it’s vicious. He- he’s just –”

“Just like you?”

Eraser quirked an eyebrow at him.

Naomasa coughed. He decided to move on. “And you’re getting a disciplinary action that consists of bentos?”

“Cute ones.”

“Nezu?”

“Yeah. It’s to remind me to ask for help.”

Naomasa patted him on the shoulder and grabbed a bottle of water. He’d talk to Eraser, and the Midoriya boy, about the incident later. He stepped back outside after making a note to himself.

Tiger paced and growled like his namesake as the police got statements from the children. Right now, the first of the third years were being interviewed, along with Kota. Mandalay was sticking close by to make sure the officer didn’t upset him. He still refused to take the bizarre gasmask off; at least he’d moved it to the side of his head.

“That’s odd,” Naomasa muttered.

“Hmm?” Tamakawa asked, stepping closer to him.

“Mandalay’s nephew just lied.”

“He came back to camp on his own,” Tamakawa said, corroborating what the kid had just told them. “No idea where he got the mask, it’s not like the ones Momo Yaoyorozu was giving out.”

“He didn’t get back to the camp on his own,” Naomasa replied flatly.

Tiger stopped his pacing to glare at the detective. “Why would he lie about someone bringing him back?”

Naomasa shrugged. “Maybe they went back out to fight and got hurt? We’ll just have to compare stories with the students to see who escorted him. It’s odd but not concerning. Maybe have him see a therapist about survivor’s guilt.”

Tiger nodded and went back to pacing. Kota was yelling as the officer placed the gas mask into an evidence bag. He wasn’t crying but he practically growled as he tried to snatch it back. “Give it back! It’ll keep me safe! He gave it to me!”

Mandalay scooped him into her arms. “Kota, please stop. Just tell us who gave it to and you can keep it.”

“The white-haired man. He got the man – the monster that killed my parents. He’s not allowed to have nice things.” Kota grabbed at the bag again.

“Muscular was here?” Mandalay gasped. She crushed Kota to her chest. “No, no, no. It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re safe.”

“I know. The white-haired man turned him to ash,” Kota said. He lunged for the mask again. When the officer jerked out of his reach he hollered, “You said I could have it!”

“Where was this white-haired man?”

Kota pouted for a moment before answering. “Up on the cliff in my secret hideout. The cave, up there.”

Naomasa felt Eraserhead stiffen behind him. His heart rate and respirations accelerated.

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

“We know the League was responsible, but for that lunatic to be so close to such a young child.” The detective shuddered. With a sigh, he rolled his shoulders and got ready for the next round of interviews. They made it through the rest of the third-years and all of class 1-B before there were any more problems.

First, the French boy, Yuga Aoyama, was very nervous and racked with guilt, but one of his classmates had been taken from him and sent to the hospital. Then, the multi-armed boy, Mezo Shoji, was near the end of his interview when he lied about the events of the fight.

“Hey, can you go over that again?”

“A wall of fire cut us, Tokoyami, Midoriya, and me, from Todoroki. Midoriya took off. Faster than I’d ever seen him move. Tokoyami and I were attacked by this thing in a bag. It was all blade-like teeth. It-it cut one of my hands off. It hurt, but it will heal. Tokoyami got it off of me before it could do any real damage.”

A little agitated but no elevation of note.

“Go on.”

“Tokoyami had a hard time getting Dark Shadow back under control because it was nighttime. And that monster was still attacking us. Then Midoriya was there and he-he used the severed hand to distract the villain. Somehow the two of them managed to knock him out.”

Major elevations.

“How’d he lose his teeth?”

“I’m not sure. Everything was so chaotic.”

Major elevations. Why is he lying?

“Thank you. If you think of anything else let us know.” Naomasa sighed. “God it’s been a long night.”

“We're almost done. Just seven more,” Officer Kogami Shiratori said, stretching.

Six more kids were brought over.

“State your name for the record.” Baselines were established on all of them, and things went smoothly, until near the end of his interview.

“I do not have a clear recollection of the fight. Shoji was injured and there was fire everywhere.”

Major elevations. It could be he’s emotional.

“Just tell us everything you remember.”

“Teeth and blood. I was scared and angry. Midoriya and Dark Shadow knocked the villain out.”

Baseline.

“How did the villain lose his teeth?”

“I don’t know.”

Major elevations. He’s lying.

“It’s okay if one you hit him or something. You won’t get in trouble for defending yourselves. Eraserhead told us he gave you authorization.”

Tokoyami hesitated before saying, “It may have been Dark Shadow.”

Again, lying.

“Okay, would you mind if I talked to Dark Shadow?”

“Not at night. I don’t think I could calm him down again if he got out of control.”

Baseline.

 “Alright. We’ll see you again, either tomorrow or the next day.”

Naomasa chose to interview Midoriya himself. He seemed calm enough waiting for his turn. He had cocked his head when his name was skipped in the alphabetical list, but he just shrugged it off. Naomasa led him into the Pussycat’s kitchen.

“State your name for the record.”

“Izuku Midoriya, Yuuei hero course class 1-C, uh 1-A, sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m going to ask you a few unrelated questions first, alright?”

“Yeah that’s fine,” Midoriya practically chirped. “Do you have a lie-detection or polygraph quirk? I remember one of the teachers talking about a detective like that after the USJ incident.”

Naomasa chuckled. Partly due to his enthusiasm and partly due to the odd fluctuations in Midoriya’s heart rate, blood pressure, respiration, and skin conductivity. They seemed to rise with every word he spoke. “Yes, my quirk is Polygraph. So, I need to establish a baseline to make effective use of it.”

“Uh, okay. I, I have an undiagnosed anxiety disorder. I don’t know if that will affect the results.”

“It shouldn’t. Okay, so. Tell me about the USJ incident.”

“I was in class, and Yamada-sensei got the call and told us to hang tight. It was a little tense, but then we were told everything was okay, and we could leave early.”

Calmer, more relaxed.

“Was there ever a time when you betrayed a friend?”

Major elevations.

“I never had very many… I haven’t had any friends since I was five. Well, until after the fall. I met. I haven’t had friends long enough to really even disagree, let alone betray them.” Midoriya dropped his eyes to the floor. He scuffed his foot a little self-consciously.

Again, his anxiety had his heart rate spiking.

“The fall?”

“Oh, uh, last year I fell off a building and was in a coma for a week. It was a light coma.” He grinned cheekily.

Falling again.

“Why didn’t you have friends?”

Spike.

“I was quirkless until the coma,” he mumbled.

“Quirkless?”

Spike.

“I – it manifested during the coma. ‘s the only reason I’m alive.” Midoriya glanced up, his eyes a bit damp and pleading.

Calmer. A spike of anxiety.

Naomasa was having a hard time establishing a baseline. “Tell me about school.”

“Yuuei is great. Sometimes it’s tough, but I’m learning so much.”

“And Aldera?”

Spike.

“I, uh. It was.” He shrugged. “The work was easy enough.”

“How were you treated?”

Spike.

“Bad.” He spread his hands out as if he was showing his cards. “The other kids bullied me; the teachers turned a blind eye.”

“Anyone in particular?”

Major elevations.

“N-no. Uh. It was just hell in general.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about something more pleasant. Um, how’s your home life?”

“Mom’s great. She’s put up with a lot this year.” He chuckled.

Steady. Midoriya was still tense and that would make it difficult to read him accurately.

“Go on?”

“She’s teaching me to cook. It’s fun.”

Steady.

“Does she ever do anything to upset you?”

Spike.

“No.” Drop. “I mean nothing that stands out. She’s a normal parent.”

“Never?”

He shrugged. “I’m not abused, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Steady.

“I’m not, but since you brought it up,” Drop, “how does she discipline you?”

Steady.

His tone was even and muted compared to his earlier warmth and excitement. “Last time I got in trouble I couldn’t go out with friends after school for a week. I still got to do my club activities. Mom’s a wonderful parent.”

“Okay, okay. Tell me about the incident between you and Eraserhead.”

Drop.

“No.”

“No?”

“Nope.” He popped the p.

Steady.

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure how you know about it at all, but it’s been handled.”

Drop.

“I just want you to tell me about it. I’ll be asking Eraserhead for the details later. I wanted to get your side first.”

“There are no sides. We were training and I got tangled in his capture weapon. He insisted that I get out on my own. I couldn’t. He encouraged me to try harder. I couldn’t and I had a panic attack. He told my mom and principal Nezu about it. It’s done.”

Calmer, more relaxed. Naomasa’s brow knitted in confusion. Talking about a traumatic incident should have elevated his anxiety. Did his anxiety drop when he was lying?

“Let’s move on. Tell me about today. Start when you woke up.”

“I woke up at about five. Played my DSR for a bit, and then Aizawa-sensei came in to wake us up for breakfast. Nothing was weird at first, but then we started seeing googly eyes all over the camp. People started getting covered in glitter. And then there was the silly string and the cola fountains. It was fun, actually; trying to dodge all the hidden traps. I thought it was a training exercise. I trained with Tiger until lunch, then with Pixie-bob until dinner. After dinner, we went out to try and find Kota. That’s when the fires started. And the gas. I was with Shoto, Tokoyami, and Shoji. A fire quirk user with blue flames separated us from Shoto, and I tried to get around the fire, but Shoji screamed. Dark Shadow was going wild and there was a wall of blades. I activated my quirk and hit the blades until they were gone. I think Dark Shadow was out of control. He hit me once, but he let go pretty quickly. It’s all a bit fuzzy, but I think my ribs are already healed.”

His heart rate, blood pressure, respiration, and skin conductivity bounced wildly. It had started off steady, then spiked when he mentioned the handheld system. It evened out until he talked about the pranks. There was a single spike at the mention of googly eyes, but then he seemed to calm down. There was no unexpected spikes when he talked about his training and a small, perfectly normal rise in heart rate as he talked about searching for the lost child. It dropped when he got to the fight.

Naomasa massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, my anxiety is messing with your quirk.”

“I’m sure we’re both just tired.”

“Nah, I only sleep for an hour.”

He blinked at the kid. “So, when you said you got up at five…”

“I went to sleep at four. Ragdoll walked me to the cabin.”

Calm. Relaxed. Lying. But Ragdoll had walked him to the cabin. Not that, then. Sleep. He hadn’t slept. Ugh. He looked at his notes. He could barely make heads or tails of the normal results. “Okay. I might wanna chat with you again later just because of how tired I am. But I think this is good enough for tonight.”

“Cool.” Midoriya bounced on his toes. “So, um, real quick? What’s your range? Can you read multiple people at once? And what messes up your readings the most?”

“Hm. You’re a curious one. I was starting to think you didn’t like me.”

“You were kinda being a butt, but I get that it’s your job.”

He chuckled. “Okay. I’m accurate up to sixty feet if I focus on one person. I can read about ten people clearly, as long as none of them have anxiety, apparently. And my exhaustion trumps any tricks or conditions from the readee.”

Midoriya grinned at him. “Nice. Any way if you’re done with me, I think they’re loading the bus.”

“Yeah, okay.” He watched the teen leave.

“That was enlightening. As I’m sure your notes will be.” The white mouse-dog-bear stepped out from behind the counter.

“I hope so,” he handed the notebook to Nezu. “I can barely make heads or tails of it.”

“Your quirk is convenient but it’s not the only way to analyze the data.” He patted Naomasa's leg. “Get some rest. I’m going back to Yuuei on the bus with Aizawa’s students.”

“Right. You’ll let me know…”

“Yes, I just have to go over this data. Later today, or tomorrow; the weekend if I’m lazy about it.”

Chapter 78: Dysfunctional Therapy

The bus ride back to Yuuei was subdued, with all of them starting to feel the aches and pains from the fight. Most of the students managed to fall asleep. Shinso was across the aisle alone, and Yaoyorozu and Jiro were behind him. Uraraka and Ashido were behind them. Tokoyami sat with Shoji opposite them. The third years had claimed the back. Snipe sat in one section, his feet on the other seat and his hat over his face.

Todoroki seemed to fall asleep immediately. Izuku took a picture of him leaning on his shoulder and sent it to Endeavour with the message, Safe and sound.

Good, was the only reply he got, but it was immediate. He chuckled at the tsundere energy.

Yagi hummed at him from the seat behind them. He showed the man his phone. “Cute.”

Shinso signed, “Who’s the tall guy?”

“Yagi-san, he’s All Might’s PA,” Izuku replied, signing as he spoke. “He knows Sign, so he might be able to correct us if we mess up.”

“I know a little,” Yagi said sheepishly.

“How’d you get roped into this?”

“Oh, uh…”

“We were going over All Might’s schedule,” Nezu said from Aizawa’s scarf. “He got caught up in the rush. I like having a long pair of legs and a good vantage point.”

The boys smirked.

“Principle Nezu!”

“My tail gets stepped on in all the commotion.”

“Oh.”

The bus lapsed into silence until Izuku couldn’t stand it. “Who’s awake?” he got a small show of hands. “Anyone up for Smash or Pass?”

Uraraka snorted quietly. “Absolutely not, and why are you so okay with playing that in front of people?”

“We do it all the time in front of Yamada-sensei,” Shinso said with a shrug.

“I never did get an answer about Aizawa-sensei,” Izuku commented mischievously.

“At this moment I’d rather smash Endeavor than give that answer,” Uraraka replied.

Beside him, Todoroki snorted in disgust.

“You would only need to land one hit to send him into orbit,” Izuku said thoughtfully.

“What type of game is this?” Nezu asked.

“How did you describe it to Endeavor?” Jiro asked. “Plus Ultra All Might Addition Pass or Smash: teachers and anyone participating are fair game – the scandal is the thrill – smashes are ranked using All Might’s Smashes, The minority side defends their position, and smashes are also used as a ‘would fight’ faction.”

“And,” Izuku added, “it helps us learn to articulate the qualities we are, or aren’t, attracted to, exposes us to a wide range of opinions, and throws in a bit of quirk analysis.”

Nezu stared unblinkingly at him for a moment. “If you feel comfortable playing this game in front of me, I have no objections.”

“And we’ll probably cover at least some of the teachers again.”

“None of the ones on the bus?” Shinso asked. “I think you defended that position admirably.”

“Which was?” Jiro asked, her ear jacks twitching.

“You gotta pay to play,” Izuku said shaking his head.

Aizawa glared at his students.

“This really isn’t appropriate,” Togata said.

“Nezu thinks it is,” Izuku shot back.

“Coward,” Shinso added.

“I don’t think it’s manly to objectify our teachers.”

Izuku shrugged. “It’s really not about that. But if we’re not getting any bites, so… wed, bed, behead is actually worse in that regard… too dark for ‘I spy’… Oh. We could play ‘Dysfunctional Therapy’.”

Shinso gave him a curious look.

“I, uh. It’ll be a bit modified. I played it at my gym.”

Behind him, Yagi stiffened in his seat.

“I’ll try to remember the important stuff. It’s a sort of like ‘never have I ever’. You list a thought or action that increases your anxiety, and everyone else who experiences the same, or similar, takes a drink. But we don’t have drinks.”

“You drink?” Togata asked a little shocked.

Izuku turned around in his seat; causing Todoroki to mumble and grab his sleeve. He squinted at Togata. “Yeah, the perfect rum and coke: they whispered rum in the general direction of my glass.”

Togata looked cross but didn’t comment further.

“We can do it put a finger down style. That gives us our needed round limit; keep going until the first person is out of fingers, or traumas.”

“You want us to talk about our trauma right after that?” Sato said from behind the girls.

“Gah. I’m doing this a little out of order. Hang on, let me pull something up on my phone.” He wished he could just text Kurogiri for a copy of the worksheet Hound Dog had given him, but the League was likely resting, and he had the wrong phone out. He found a passable passage on understanding and living with trauma. He quickly read out the definition of trauma, its risk factors, symptoms, and treatments. Izuku cleared his throat and in a voice similar to a game show host said, “Welcome to dysfunctional therapy. I’ll be your host: Anxiety Disorders and Self-worth Issues. In a moment, our players will go around the group and introduce themselves, but first, a little bit about the rounds. Round one is, basically, traumas and triggers, you list a thought or action that increases your anxiety. Round two is coping mechanisms, you list a thought or action that decreases your anxiety. Round three is positive affirmations and self-care routines. Uh, several people were tipsy and emotional at this point, round three is a bit more free-form. We go over triggers again, but instead of putting a finger down, we discuss an affirmation or activity that can help counter it. Round four is, if we get that far, personal strength, we list strengths we had before the trauma, what ones we used to get through it, and the ones we’ve developed after. I can look up more stuff if we make it passed four rounds.” He looked around the bus to see if anyone was still interested.

The teachers at least all appeared eager.

“And as always remember: Dysfunctional Therapy is not a replacement for actual therapy.” He grinned. Izuku turned in his seat to face the aisle. “Hello, my name is Izuku and I was bullied by classmates and teachers for being quirkless until I took a six-story drop onto the concrete last year.”

There was a long pause where Izuku thought he had read the room wrong and no one was going to humor him, but then Aizawa spoke up softly from next to Yagi, “Hello, I’m Shota and … I was always told my quirk wasn’t fit for hero work.” He placed his hands on the back of Todoroki’s seat so the students could see his fingers clearly.

“Hey, I’m Hitoshi and everyone always said my quirk was villainous and creepy.” He also turned to the aisle, but with an empty seat behind him, Shinso was able to scoot back enough that they weren’t crowded.

“Hello, I am Fumikage and I cannot reliably control my quirk.”

“I’m Mezo and my face is terrifying.”

Izuku gave the others a few seconds to join. He bounced his eyebrows at Togata, but the boy just gave him a pinched smile. “Okay, non-playing individuals don’t get to make comments, and ‘close enough’ counts. Trauma and triggers are really personal, so you can piggyback on someone else’s turn with little or no justification. I’ll go first. I think everyone would be better off without me.”

Aizawa gave a low whistle, lowering a finger. “Jumping straight into the deep end, are we?”

Izuku shrugged. “I can swim.”

“Just… keep an eye out for your classmates,” he replied as Shinso, Shoji, and Tokoyami all put a finger down.

Nezu’s whiskers twitched.

There was a long pause before Aizawa continued the game. “I’ve failed to protect the people that I care about.”

Izuku put a finger down. “I’m jumping straight into the deep end.”

Shinso, Shoji, and Tokoyami put a finger down.

“You set the tone.”

“Does it need to be deeply traumatic?” Shinso asked.

“No, god no,” Izuku said reassuringly. “Anything that raises your anxiety: pop quizzes and asking out pink-haired girls are just as valid as villain attacks and thinly veiled threats from number two heroes.”

Todoroki lifted his head.

“He threatened you?” Yagi asked leaning forward.

“No comments or questions from non-players. Of course, it’s not too late to buy in for an answer.” He turned in his seat to give Yagi a cheeky grin.

“Did he threaten you?” Aizawa asked.

“Hey, no freebies,” Izuku squawked. “If he wants to know, he can play too.”

“Is there a penalty for holding up the round with double dipping on someone’s trauma?” Todoroki asked.

“Well, no, since we didn’t discuss it and that would violate informed consent,” Izuku replied, glad his boyfriend had his back.

“So, I assume I need to confirm which traumas or triggers I’m agreeing with,” he said holding up eight fingers. “Yes on both accounts. Did my old man ever threaten you?”

“Shoto,” Izuku whined. He huffed. “No, you’d know. I’ve never been alone around him. He just… he feels like he wants to be a threat, you know?”

Todoroki nodded. He leaned over and kissed Izuku’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Shinso huffed. “Sometimes I’m afraid to ask questions because people will think I’m using my quirk on them; even though asking a question isn’t a requirement.”

Tokoyami and Todoroki both put a finger down.

“Hmm. I can’t stand the sight of myself in the mirror.”

Izuku put a finger down. Todoroki hesitated but put a finger down as well.

“Being called ‘bird’ as if it is my name.”

Izuku and Shoji put down a finger.

“Huh. I thought that would be exclusive to mutant types.”

“I was diagnosed as quirkless,” Izuku reminded them.

Shinso mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Oni-san’.

Todoroki was quiet for a moment. “I forgot to do my introduction. Hello, my name is Shoto and I only exist because my parents wanted the perfect fire quirk.” He took a steadying breath. “We had to get an electric kettle, the whistling…”

Aizawa put a finger down. “Sometimes, I don’t like the rain.”

When no one else put a finger down, Izuku said, “Feeling like I’m falling.”

“You do parkour,” Shinso said.

“It’s like emersion therapy,” Izuku replied. “But that’s round three stuff.”

Tokoyami put a finger down.

“People telling me the pain will go away.” Aizawa blinked like he was tearing up, and went to say something else, but thought better of it.

Izuku put a finger down.

“When people around me are yelling.”

Izuku, Aizawa, and Todoroki put a finger down.

Aizawa massaged the bridge of his nose. “It’s a good thing you’re all already going to see Hound Dog.”

“Could anyone ever love me?”

Everyone put a finger down. Tokoyami and Todoroki were both able to drop a hand.

“Taking the garbage to the collection area.”

Izuku put a finger down. “It’s not that bad now that the beach is clean,” he muttered.

“Why didn’t you tell me it bothered you?” Yagi asked.

“An answer will cost you six traumas,” he replied.

Aizawa gave a dry laugh, not quite a scoff; more like a bark of laughter but considerate to his sleeping students.

“Sometimes, just the way he walks through the house.”

Aizawa put a finger down.

“When people care about me.”

Aizawa and Todoroki put down a finger. Yagi made a little whining noise and Nezu petted his hair.

“Skipping meals.”

Yagi gave him a concerned look. Shinso and Shoji put a finger down.

“Going all day without talking to someone.”

Todoroki put down a finger.

“Kids playing; you know that laughter that sounds like shrieking? I just freeze.”

Todoroki put down a finger.

“When I make a mistake.”

Everyone put a finger down. Todoroki was out.

“I don’t think this is a fun game,” Nejire said. “It’s kinda mean.”

“Does anyone feel bullied?” Izuku asked.

While most of the participants shook their heads or muttered ‘no’, Aizawa grinned and replied, “When people care about me felt pretty targeted.”

“Fuck you! It took a lot to admit to that!” Izuku shot back.

Aizawa stood in his seat. “Come here, kiddo.”

Izuku leaned awkwardly over the back of the seats to allow him to hug him. “You’re not gonna scold me for swearing?”

“Nah. Pretty sure it’s in the bylaws of dysfunctional therapy that you get one free F-bomb per two hours.”

“I will try to use my next one wisely, then.”

“Can they be traded for hugs?” Todoroki asked.

“No. Hugs are free for players and cost a trauma for everyone else.”

Todoroki leaned over his boyfriend and joined the hug. After some careful shuffling, Aizawa hugged all five students who chose to play.

“Okay, round two should be more, uh, overtly enjoyable. We list things we do to deal with the anxiety, put a finger down if you do it too.” Izuku took a deep breath. “Journaling.”

Aizawa put a finger down, but the others just looked thoughtful.

“Nap.”

The kids snickered at that, except the ones playing. “Oh.”

“Sparring.”

Izuku and Aizawa both put a finger down.

“Lift weights.”

Aizawa and Shoto put a finger down.

“Listen to music.”

Aizawa, Shinso, and Shoji put a finger down. “Remind me to hit you up for your chill playlist.”

“I’m on Spotify.”

“Spend time with Izuku.”

Aizawa and Izuku put a finger down. “Call me any time day or night.”

“You go to your gym at night.”

“Which means I have two or three other people willing to egg Endeavor’s house with me, and he’d never know you called in the hit.”

Todoroki laughed. “Thank you.”

“Comfort food.”

Everyone except Aizawa put a finger down.

“Um… Cleaning.”

Izuku, Shinso, and Shoji put a finger down.

“Cooking.”

Aizawa and Izuku put a finger down. “I have recipes to share with you. And mom is serious about you coming over more.”

“I should add that to the training.”

“Reading.”

Everyone except Aizawa put a finger down. “I get in my own head too much. Need something to take me out of it.”

Izuku nodded.

“Time with friends.”

Everyone put a finger down.

“Focusing on happy memories.” He pulled his phone out and shook it a little.

“You know, that trick qualifies as journaling,” Yagi said.

“It’s super useful,” Izuku agreed, putting a finger down.

The rest followed suit.

“Just having a cry.”

Aizawa put a finger down.

“Isn’t that what you’re trying to prevent?” Togata asked.

“No! Hell no!” Izuku whipped around. “Crying is a healthy outlet with many psychological and physiological benefits. You’re actually more rational and make better decisions after crying. It regulates emotions and reduces distress. It releases oxytocin and endorphins. Really tempted to use my other free pass.” He sat back down grumpily.

Todoroki put a finger down. “Fuck who or whatever taught you that crying was unacceptable.”

Izuku hugged him.

“Hey!” Togata shot back. “What did I expect from the students who adore the worst teacher at Yuuei.”

“Togata,” Matsushita snapped. “They got three more on deck, and the red one looks close to buying in to get his. I wouldn’t antagonize them.”

Izuku grinned at that.

Aizawa looked Togata dead in the eyes and said, “Support from friends.”

Everyone put a finger down.

“Apparently we can use this to be an ass,” Shinso said.

“It is dysfunctional therapy,” Aizawa replied.

“Shopping online. I know, I know. It’s a dangerous game, but I do way more browsing than buying and I stick to a strict budget.”

Izuku, Shoji, and Tokoyami put a finger down.

Todoroki asked, “Is that anything like window shopping at the mall?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

He nodded. “Fuyumi does that, sometimes.”

“I like to knit, it keeps my hands busy.”

Aizawa put his last finger down. “I used to do some sewing. Mostly patching things, darning socks. It feels useful, and it’s kind of meditative.” He cocked his head at Izuku. “Round three?”

“Uh… positive affirmations and self-care routines! We go over triggers again and discuss an affirmation or activity that can help counter it.” Izuku paused. “So, um. I don’t have a lot of experience with this round; like I said some people were drunk and emotional. When I’m free running, and I get a little panicky, I ground myself on the roof gravel. Some times in less gentle ways. I don’t like, biff it on purpose, but I’ll take a hard roll.”

“What’s your pre-run affirmation?” Aizawa asked.

“I don’t have one.”

“Hmm. How about trying: I am relaxed on tall buildings or I am relaxed and in control?”

“I am relaxed and in control,” Izuku repeated. “I think I’ll get some mileage out of that one. I’ll try them both out.”

“Every day before work I tell myself ‘I am a person of reason and sincere purpose, I am a competent and capable teacher, I treat myself and my students with respect, I am making a difference in my students’ lives, I am teaching my students the skills they need to survive, I will do better today’.”

Izuku lunged over the seat to hug him. Aizawa chuckled at the emotional boy, only to find the other players, and some non-player crowding in for a turn. It woke a few of the others up.

“Sorry, sorry we’re being too noisy. Hush now. Settle down.”

“You’re the best teacher I ever had,” Izuku said.

“Better than Mic?”

“Don’t tell him, it would break his heart.”

“You should add ‘I did well yesterday,’ before ‘I will do better today’,” Todoroki said flatly.

“Iida –”

“Right now,” Nezu countered. “Your student is telling you that you did well today, and he trusts you to do better going forward.” There was a finality to the statement that brooked no argument.

“I am allowed to talk. I can ask questions.” He looked Izuku dead in the eyes, turning the other boy’s head a little by his chin to do so. “No quirk is villainous.”

Izuku smiled back at him. “Actions speak louder than quirks.”

“Ooh, I like that.”

“I brush my teeth in the mirror twice a day, so I don’t look like a stranger to myself.”

Izuku put his hands out in a cupping gesture. “Let me see.”

Shoji moved forward hesitantly and rested his chin in Izuku’s hands. The boy traced the line of his mouth back with his thumbs. When Shoji smiled at the fact that Izuku had no intention of pulling the mask down, he felt his teeth. There were fangs in the front and his premolars were square and blunt as expected. The incisors were straight and pleasantly broad.

Izuku smirked at him. “I’m going to start calling you puppy, so you better be prepared to correct me.”

“You don’t think it’s scary?”

“I’ve seen scarier.”

Shoji pulled his mask down to reveal a blunt snout and a long mouth; his lips covered all his teeth. He did have jagged scars on his mouth and neck: two vertical towards the front on the left, and one on the right that Izuku had mistaken for fangs, a long one from the corner of his mouth to the middle of his neck, with a smaller one below it. “How about now?”

“I literally just ripped a man’s teeth out,” Izuku said flatly. “You’re cute. However, 'puppy' isn’t going to stick. Probably for the best, it could be construed as degrading.”

Shoji pulled his mask back up, more to hide his blush than his mouth.

“You are cute,” Yaoyorozu agreed. “And your scars don’t diminish that.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Dark Shadow and I talk. I, um. He knows how to read.”

“That is so cool.”

“It helps me to know that he is his own intelligence and not just my subconscious.”

Aizawa nodded. “You are more than your quirk, and in this case so is Dark Shadow.”

“I have a new one,” Todoroki said. “My actions are my own.”

“Babe, nice.”

“And so is your quirk.”

“Yeah.”

Chapter 79: Connections

Inko stood nervously in the Yuuei cafeteria. It was a very large and open space, well-lit despite more than half the lights being off. All the other parents were seated at the two rows of tables nearest the kitchen. Lunch Rush was preparing hot drinks and light snacks but no one was eating, and only a few people had coffees.

She had poured herself a cup of coffee, more to have something to do than a desire to drink it, and was contemplating the food. A white-haired young woman came in trailed by a tall red-haired man in his late forties. It took her a moment to realize he was Endeavor. As intimidating as the man was, even with his face bare, Inko found that knowing she had something else to talk to him about made her more comfortable than the idea of sitting alone, or with one of the couples in vaguely frightened silence.

“Todoroki-san,” she said as he walked past her. She had to scurry a bit to keep up with his long stride. He ignored her, as he poured himself a coffee. “Hello, I’m Inko M–”

“I’m not interested.”

“Dad, don’t be rude,” the young woman said, sliding in between them. “Hi! I’m Fuyumi, Shoto’s sister. You must be Midoriya-san. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held her hand out to shake.

Inko accepted it. “Likewise.” She turned pointedly to Endeavor. “I’d like to thank you for staying with Izuku on I-island. I feel so much better knowing he was safe.”

His dour expression softened in realization. “He performed admirably. He’ll make an excellent sidekick once he graduates.”

“I’m glad you’re coming around!” Inko replied cheerfully. “When Izuku came home from the sports festival, he was under the impression that you didn’t think very highly of him.”

“Ah. He was holding back at the festival.”

“If that’s holding back…” Inko pressed her hand to her heart.

“He didn’t even use his quirk,” Endeavor scoffed.

“Dad,” Fuyumi whispered.

“What?” he asked, genuinely not knowing why he was being scolded. “He didn’t put his all into it. Not to disparage Shoto, but if Midoriya-kun had been trying he could have won.”

Inko hummed. “He placed third ‘without using his quirk’. I’d say that that is more impressive than winning with it; not that I cared for all the violence in the third event. I don’t think our children should have been made to brutalize each other like that. They’re supposed to be friends.”

Endeavor furrowed his brow. “They’re not here to make friends.”

“Then how do you expect Shoto-kun to make his own connections in the hero industry? Or are you comfortable with him riding on your coattails?”

Endeavor made a half noise of protest before falling silent to consider her words.

Fuyumi stood tensely beside them clutching a small bag of what looked like clothes. Inko was suddenly regretful that she hadn’t brought a change of clothes for Izuku; even the things they had still packed away would likely reek of smoke.

“Business contacts and friends aren’t the same things,” Endeavor said finally.

“You’re right,” Inko agreed. “Friends will be there when you need them even at a cost to themselves, but a business contact will cut and run as soon as it’s no longer profitable.”

He was quiet for a long time. “That… makes sense.”

Fuyumi quietly pressed her hand to her forehead but kept her mouth shut.

Inko nodded and patted his arm. “I know I want to keep Izuku safe and happy. I’m sure you want the same for Shoto.”

“Of course I do,” Endeavor said. He frowned at her. “Talking to you makes me feel the same way that talking to your son does.” When she arched her eyebrows at him Endeavor clarified, “That I’m a disappointment.”

“If you feel that way, you should know, you’re only disappointing yourself, because at this point I have no expectations of you, Todoroki-san.” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Um…” Endeavor stared at her. 

“We need to talk about how we’re going to support the boys going forward. Soon. I’m free anytime during school hours, but I have to be home for Izuku otherwise and Sundays are off the table. What is your availability?”

“I’m free on Friday, around lunch,” he replied. 

“Good.” She pulled out her cell phone and handed it to him.

Fuyumi took it and added her contact information as well.

“Hey, exhausted listeners,” Yamada called to the group. “Your kids will be arriving in a few minutes. They’re gonna hit the showers and get changed before meeting you in the parking lot. If you didn’t bring a change of clothes for them, we have gym clothes they can wear. We super appreciate your patience and understanding.”

Nearby one mother scoffed and said, “Making them ride four hours in dirty clothes, what are they thinking?”

Endeavor snorted. “Idiot. On top of a dangerous forest fire possibly damaging underground pipelines, there was a villain that could create copies of people. Letting the children out of their sight to shower and change, into clothes that would still be smoke-damaged, would have been irresponsible, to say the least.”

“Oh,” Inko said thoughtfully. “That makes sense. Thank you for the explanation. Not all of us are as sharp as veteran heroes on no sleep.” She patted his arm again.

Endeavor furrowed his brow at her, but if Inko Midoriya was intimidated by his disapproving glare, no one in the room could tell.

The families began drifting out to the parking lot. Inko stayed close to Endeavor and Fuyumi. Endeavor drank his coffee and had two plain donuts before heading over. His timing was impeccable as they stepped outside to the bus parking area just as the second bus pulled up. He held up a hand to stop Fuyumi and Inko from approaching.

“Third years,” Matsushita shouted, gathering his students together. “Hit the showers in the Phys. Ed. building and wait there when you’re done.”

Inko’s eyes went wide as Izuku hopped off the bus. The sunshine yellow and sky blue of his shirt and shorts struck a macabre contrast to the rust-brown stains that were smeared on their front. It was all she could see.

A warm hand grabbed her shoulder and she was pulled bodily back into the building. “He’s not injured. It’s not his blood. Izuku is aware, responsive, and talking. He’s fine. I think he’s doing better than after the last incident, not that it would take much. He’s a resilient boy, Midoriya-san.” He patted her back. “Shoto was laughing. They are not hurt.”

“Izuku is-is…”

“Uninjured. Unharmed. Izuku is fine. A little soot covered.”

“It's soot,” Inko said pleadingly.

“It's soot,” Endeavor lied.

 

Izuku hopped off the bus, the others staggered behind him. He chatted with, mostly at, Shinso as they made their way to Gym Gamma to shower and change. “You know what’s really odd?”

“What?” Shinso asked, exacerbated.

“Numbers not divisible by two.”

Shoto snorted with laughter. It wasn’t overly loud, but it was genuine and full of humor.

“I cannot believe you think that’s funny. Oh my god. Okay. What’s yellow and is something you shouldn’t drink?”

“What?”

“A school bus.”

Both boys burst out laughing. They hung back trying to get control of themselves while the other students that were going home tonight showered and changed before being seen by their parents. Nine members of class 1-B and six of Aizawa’s students were staying at the school.

As Ishiyama molded the cement into semi-private cubicles for the overnight guests, Kayama handed out a variety of pajamas. “I’ll escort you to shower, Uraraka; you shouldn’t be alone after something like that.”

“Oh, thanks,” she replied sleepily, taking the offered sushi print pajama pants and a soft black tee that had ‘Zzz’ on it. Izuku was a little jealous.

“Are these yours?” Sato asked holding up the white, yellow, and orange plaid pants and ‘Do you feel Corny?’ v-neck tee-shirt with a faded picture of candy corn with a jack-o-lantern face.

“Those are Vlad’s,” she replied. “He left them at my place like three months ago. Some of them are mine, yes. Yours and Shoji’s no. His belong to Cementoss.”

Shoji ended up with a pair of muted artichoke green silk pants and a loose muscle shirt in a light sage. Koda got a pair of black sweatpants with strawberries down one leg and a baggy long-sleeved top in broad black, grey, and purple stripes. Shinso was holding a plain pair of dark grey cotton jersey shorts and a matching fitted tee. And Izuku was left with the softest cotton tee shirt and lounge pants he had ever felt. They were pale pink with clouds on them.

“Sorry they’re kinda girly,” Kayama said. “I just grabbed randomly after I found stuff to fit our big guys.”

“Any clothing is unisex if you’re not a coward,” Izuku replied and strutted into the boys’ locker room.

“Where does that kid get all that energy?” she asked turning and yawning.

“His quirk,” Aizawa said tiredly. He followed the boys into the locker room, shucked his clothes carelessly, and stepped into one of the cubicles.

Izuku’s eyes followed his every move. How he toed his boots off with two fluid steps, the smooth unzip of his jumpsuit. It crashed heavily to the floor. His snug briefs hugged the curve of his ass with each long purposeful stride. The flex of the taunt skin of his parallel scars was both mesmerizing and horrifying; he wanted to explore them slowly and softly, but he also imagined inflicting scars like that on someone. The shower door banged and Aizawa’s socks and underwear were quickly thrown out. The water on the tiles leeched invisible bloodstains and viscous grey-brown goo out of the dark fabric.

He’s a married man. Aizawa was chiseled and almost stocky despite his height. He’s a happily married man. The matted mop of dark hair was a surprising turn-on. Izuku thought it looked good normally, but tussled and disheveled was sexy on Eraserhead. He’s a married man. With just the right amount of scruff. He’s a married man. In Izuku’s mind’s eye, crude purple streaks decorated Aizawa’s shoulders. He would hate me.

“Earth to Midoriya,” Shinso called. “You okay?”

He blinked. “Uh yeah.”

Sato chuckled. “Finally catching up with you, huh?”

“Yeah. I uh. Shower. I need a shower.” He walked unsteadily to the cubicle farthest from Aizawa’s. With only the provided pump soap, he missed the rich lather, and helping hands, he got at Kuroi Ba. Or the plentiful options at Aizawa’s condo; even if it did make him smell like a pie.

He hadn’t noticed the blood on his pale blue ‘Muscle Shirt’ or his yellow All Might shorts. He tried to wash them out somewhat. The stains could be gotten out if they were treated properly. He just wasn’t sure the shirt and shorts were worth the effort. Still, he wrung them out a few times, so they wouldn’t be too gross when he took them home.

He washed slowly and counted the number of showers shutting off to avoid running into a wet and naked Aizawa. The image of his teacher with a towel wrapped around his waist and drying his hair flashed across his mind unbidden. Izuku groaned. Eventually, he turned off his shower and stepped out.

Only to be faced with a concerned Aizawa clad in a black long-sleeved tee and pink running shorts with white piping. The pair, alone in the boys’ locker room stared at each other. Izuku could hear faint music. He both wished he knew the name of the song that had been playing at the time and dreaded ever hearing it again.  The tile was replaced by cracked concrete and the bright lights dimmed.

“Mic, knock it off.”

The music stopped. It had been Yamada-sensei humming. “Sorry, I didn’t mean –”

“Are you alright?” Aizawa was beside him. One hand lifted Izuku’s arm out of the way, the other checking his full-healed ribs. He checked the other side.

“Easy, Sho,” Yamada said. “He’s … He might need to eat something. Right, kiddo?”

Izuku shook himself. “Uh, yeah. I could snack.” He focused on Yamada. Yellow hair, black and green earrings, that mustache, worried green eyes, and a teal ‘Put Your Hands Up Radio’ tee shirt.

“Here, let’s get you dried off, huh?” Yamada tossed a towel over his head.

Distant chatter, the dying drips of the showers, Yamada’s steady breathing, and Aizawa’s indulgent chuckle.

“Er, I can do it myself.” Izuku reached up and began drying his hair roughly.

“Ack! No wonder you’ve got such an untamed floof!” Yamada batted his hands away. “Gently, squeeze, don’t squiggle. You’re as bad as Sho.”

Cool tile floor, water dripping off his hair, and the towel.

“It gets it dry,” Aizawa said defensively.

“Why can’t you two treat yourselves gently?” He shook his head.

Coconut and catmint.

“He’s a married man,” Izuku whispered.

“Hmm? What’s that, kiddo?”

“N-nothing.” Izuku licked his lips, trying to taste something. “Gah. Towel.” He sputtered. “I’m gonna get dressed. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Aizawa turned his back and half-dragged Yamada with him.

Izuku slipped on the pink cloud pajamas, enjoying the soft fabric against his skin. The pair walked him out, shoulder to shoulder whispering to each other.

“So cute. He’s watermelon colored.”

When they passed through the gym the 1-b students were there, wearing the pajamas Todoroki’s sister had dropped off. Tsunotori and Kodai were both wearing half a set of blue flannel pajamas and a pink set of soft cotton ones with different types of cute coffee drinks on them. Shishida had a hunter-green pocket tee and a pair of navy lounge pants embroidered with tiny silhouettes of Endeavor’s sidekicks. Awase and Rin were in baggy pine sweatshirts (one with a reindeer and the other a tree) and plaid sleep pants. Kuroiro had dark grey sleep pants with a reticulating pattern of Might Tower and a black and white tee with a sunflower on it. Fukidashi (already asleep and making little ‘snores’ fall to the ground with a half-formed plop) and Tsuburaba had on black soft cotton shorts and short-sleeved raglan tees that said ‘Endeavor Agency Baseball Team,’ on them. Kamakiri was in a baggy beige button-up top with black piping on the hems and a pair of pale orange striped leggings.

“Hey, Inko,” Yamada waved her over, “would it be a terrible imposition for you and Izuku to stay here? Nem–Kayama could use the company while the rest of us do some paperwork. Lunch Rush will be in with snacks, and the kids could use a bit of –”

“Can we, Mom? Shinso won’t have to be lonely!”

Inko chuckled at her enthusiastic son. “Yeah. I think I’d feel better knowing you’re properly supervised anyway. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Izuku grinned at her. “It was scary, but Shoji and Tokoyami were with me. We made a great team, Mom. We captured a villain.” He beamed with pride.

“Okay,” she said. “Those are cute pajamas.”

“They’re Kayama-sensei’s.”

 

Aizawa took stock of the staff members in Nezu’s office; Yagi, Hizashi, himself, Ryo, and Nezu. This meeting was worryingly familiar.

“Okay,” Hizashi said as the office door closed. “Sho, I need you to sit down.”

Shota sighed. “I didn’t leave the bentos on purpose, I just forgot them.”

“This isn’t about that, babe. Sit.”

“What is it then?” He cupped the back of his neck.

“Please, sit down, babe. It – it’s bad.”

Shota sat on the couch. “Is it Kaminari? Or Hagakure? Bakugo’s injuries weren’t that bad…”

Hizashi hugged his head, pressing Shota’s ear over his heart. “No, no. Your students are okay. The students are fine, babe.”

“We found,” Nezu began. “No, we suspect…” he sighed. “Izuku Midoriya –”

“No. He’s fine. We just left him with his mother.”

“We suspect he is involved in gang activity,” Nezu said. He fretted his little paws and twitched his whiskers.

“He’s a good kid,” Shota said defensively. “I’m sure we can–”

Yagi bit his lip. He did not want to be the one to tell Shota, not after how he had acted. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I know this is hard to hear. It’s hard to believe, especially of Izuku, but you were right.”

Shota scrunched his face in confusion. “No? I wasn’t. And don’t even joke about that.”

“Shota,” Nezu said calmingly.

“No.” He shook his head.

“Two members of my staff have brought this issue to my attention.”

“I – it’s not – Izuku is not Stray.”

“Be that as it may, he is involved in –”

“No.”

“Shota, I understand how difficult this is –”

“No,” Shota insisted, shaking his head again. “No. If he was Stray he would have fought back.”

“Are you sure?” Nezu asked. He stood with his paws on Shota’s knees, staring up into his eyes.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Shota asked.

After considering it for a moment, he replied, “Because he’s good at keeping his cover; he designed his villain outfit to counter his nausea from blood, as well as hide his identity. The vest is adjustable, to assist with his anxiety. He’s a clever thing.”

Yagi covered a sudden cough. It made Nezu’s whiskers twitch.

“He’s a fifteen –”

“He’s sixteen, now,” Hizashi interjected. “And so stubborn.”

“He’s a sixteen-year-old kid. And. He was in class during the USJ Incident.”

“There were plenty of duplicates at the camp,” Nezu reminded him; he did not bring up the dead girl from the nightclub and the Stain videos.

“We’ve met Kuu.”

“So, again,” Nezu said softly, “involved in gang activity.”

“No.”

“We need to protect our student, Shota. He’s vulnerable.”

“Yeah. He’s still not –” He stopped. Shota was silent for a long time as he stared into his father’s unblinking black eyes. “Sure. What do we do going forward?”

Nezu did not look convinced of his sudden acceptance, but he replied, “We need a DNA sample to compare to the unknown male sample from the lipstick. And I would appreciate it if Yagi, discreetly, got any security footage of Midoriya from I-island.”

The room was filled with silence that stretched on for so long Shota was beginning to think they were done.

 “Aizawa-kun,” Yagi said, bending to cup his chin. “I’m sorry. I… I hope you can forgive me. I behaved deplorably towards you.”

Shota shook his head. “I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t. You were hurt and sc–”

“I’m a pro hero! I shouldn’t have reacted like that! There’s nothing about what I did that’s okay. There’s no reasoning, no excuse that can make it okay!”

Ryo flopped against him on the couch. “Good. That gives you some common ground with Midoriya.”

“What?”

“That kid is a bundle of anxiety and insecurities. Likely doing crime makes him feel powerful, in the moment, but sends him spiraling into guilt and self-loathing afterward. The biggest trick gangs play is convincing the recruits that no one else will ever care about them, especially if they know what bad things they’ve done. You’re our lynchpin now. You can show that mistakes can be forgiven with proper penance, but also that he’s not alone, or weak, or whatever he’s been told his whole life. You fucked up. You are just like him. He needs that bridge.”

“You and Matsushita-senpai with your stupid silver linings,” Shota grumbled.

Ryo chuckled. “This is going to be a long hard road, but we’re going to save him. And his friends.”

Hizashi scoffed. “You mean his captors.”

“Not the way he talks about them. I’m recontextualizing the things Midoriya has told me over the last four months. And I’m not sure how much I should tell you, privacy and all. But he’s never talked about criminal activity, violence, or being afraid of them.”

“So you’re severely limited in what you can tell us.”

He shrugged. “Sorry.”

“I can’t do this right now,” Shota said, standing up.

“I’m sorry,” Nezu patted his leg, “working helps me to cope.”

“I mean I have to check on my students.” He left the office, Hizashi trailing after him.

 

His mother had helped Kayama-sensei and Lunch Rush pass around snacks and drinks, but eventually everyone fell asleep. Izuku sat on the cot provided him idly chewing on his thumb.

If I suggest taking his blood for Himiko, how do I get a sample? He wondered. Would he agree? Who could I send it to? I can’t just drop a sample on Shoji and Tokoyami and make them figure it out.

Izuku pulled up Google on his phone and searched for DNA testing sites. Most of them would only work if he had something to compare to. Ancestry sites were only useful if they had a relative listed, and Izuku doubted he could rely on that.

Still, it’s the only thing I’ve got right now. I wish I knew more about Tomura’s bio family. I don’t even know if Decay is his original quirk or not. If it is, that’s why Sensei recruited him. If not, that’s a question I can’t begin to answer. Why would he adopt and raise a child? What’s in it for him?

With a sigh, he typed in ‘how to investigate a missing person.’ Izuku scrolled through the results, trying to find a service that would compare DNA to missing persons. Or dead people. Nothing looked promising, and the sites he checked all led to turning everything over to the police. That wasn’t something he could even consider.

I could just give up. He looked over to where his mom was sleeping on the cot set out for him. Izuku chuckled to himself. No, he’d go down fighting. But how do I prove to Tokoyami and Shoji that Tomura needs rescuing?

Next, he looked into families that either went missing or died about fifteen years ago, starting with Tokyo. He didn’t have much hope, but it was something to do. There were plenty of candidates and little to narrow his search.

He categorized them between mysterious circumstances, regular crime, and villain attacks; favoring those where the children’s bodies were never recovered. Then he had to add in the eighty thousand missing person cases annually. All the data and no good way to sort it, let alone go through it, was starting to overwhelm him.

Izuku smirked. Shadow Bind’s previous user had been desperate to buy them time, but it wasn’t going to be of any use. He couldn’t tell Sensei, or even Tomura and Kurogiri, that two teenagers had figured out he was Stray, so his only real resource was off the table. Protecting them could mean telling All Might the truth.

At least it would be over. Maybe he’d use me to try to capture them? That would be nice. I’d hate to betray Tomura’s trust like that, but any rescue would feel like a betrayal to him. I wonder how angry Yagi would be. How disappointed. Izuku wiped at the forming tears in his eyes. He couldn’t read his phone screen and cry at the same time. He didn’t have time for a breakdown. He had four weeks. Izuku redoubled his efforts to comb through the crime statistics.

He looked up when Aizawa and Yamada came in.

Chapter 80: A New Word for Family

Shota waved Midoriya (Stray) over to him. “You bored? Want to spar a bit? Maybe get out of our heads?”

The boy’s face lit up like Christmas had come early. “God, yes. I mean if you’re not too tired,” he teased. “I forget that other people get tired.”

“I can handle you,” Shota assured him, pulling his long-sleeved tee over his head. He could feel Midoriya’s eyes on him again (He could feel Stray watching him hungrily, like a predator stalking its prey; it didn’t help that he would occasionally mutter about Shota being married).

“This is a bad idea,” Hizashi said, shaking his head. He settled against the wall of the nearest cubicle Ken-san had raised for the kids. While his body language was oh-so-casual, he could see Hizashi frowning disapprovingly out of the corner of his eye.

Shota grunted his agreement.

Midoriya (Stray) turned around to remove his cloud print pajama top. It was white, with medium yellow clouds. Shota recognized the set from Nem’s closet; they were soft and cozy. He kept his eyes on the garment and not the boy’s broad muscular back.

His healing quirk kept him free of scars and any tan he might try to pick up. His unruly, still-drying, black hair matched his eyes (different from Stray's piercing yellow gaze) as he turned to face Shota. Midoriya (Stray) grinned savagely at him, and he matched the expression as they squared off.

The boy (villain) closed the distance. Always so reckless. Shota threw a warning jab knowing he’d duck under it. He wrapped both arms around Shota’s thighs and pushed his shoulder into his gut. The heat of his body was startling; (reminding Shota of Stray’s chest pressing against his back as he held him in the club).

Shota responded by kicking his hips and knees out while pushing down on Midoriya’s (Stray’s) shoulders; it was a textbook sprawl and the boy shouldn’t have fallen for it. His ground game was where Midoriya lived. He knew better than to allow an opponent to get him into this position. He was performing beneath his capabilities again. He twisted onto Midoriya’s (Stray’s) back and locked in a rear naked choke. Feeling that heat against his chest; (their positions reversed.)

“Sho!” Hizashi sprung off the wall and strode toward them with long purposeful strides.

He ignored his husband and continued to apply pressure to Midoriya’s (Stray’s) carotid. Calmly (so calm, so collected; like being strung up and choked had not affected him), the boy (villain) tilted his head into his chest and grabbed Shota’s other arm to drag him over his head. Shota allowed it.

He continued the roll and jerked his arm away. After kipping up and getting some distance, he said, “Shit, sorry,” as if it were an accident; like he had forgotten. (As if he could ever forget.)

Hizashi glared at him for the lie. He kept his mouth shut, though; and stayed close.

“No big. I countered it, didn’t I?” Stray replied, still completely calm. He climbed to his feet; an excited, goofy grin on his face.

“That’s not the point,” Shota barked. How could he be (having fun) so calm at a time like this?

“Hey, relax. It’s not that bad. One little choke hold isn’t going to break me.” He laughed. As if, the very idea was a joke.

Shota laughed at the absurdity of it; quietly but a tad hysterical. “What does it take then? Where the fuck is the line?”

Stray shook his head. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“The fuck I didn’t.”

Hizashi winced and discreetly signed ‘Calm.’

“You don’t get to decide that, though,” Stray replied. Anger was starting to edge into his voice.

“What the hell have you been through that what I did doesn’t faze you?” Shota wondered aloud.

“Ten years of systematic bullying and abuse,” Stray replied emotionlessly as if he were tired of talking about it already. As though he had explained it a thousand times to people who didn’t listen. As though he thought Shota would be another to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to his cry for help. (Was that what sent him into the den of these villains? A little bit of sympathy and attention. Comradely? Friendship? Love?) “My quirk has erased any scars,” he twisted his arms and back to show the clear, smooth skin there, “I may have had, but I remember the pain and fear. Feeling lost and alone.” He looked up at Shota, his face bright and alive again; full of warmth and hope. “But you’re not ignoring me. You wouldn’t let someone hurt me, and keep hurting me.”  He looked down again, drew his arms close around him, pulled in his stance, and hunched his shoulders. He looked so small and vulnerable. His voice nearly broken and scarcely above a whisper, Midoriya said, “Even if I was quirkless.”

Hizashi looked wounded hearing the kid’s deepest trauma laid bare.

A villain that can steal and transfer quirks. ‘I have a hard time thinking of it as my quirk.’ No one spontaneously develops a quirk at fourteen. Is Kuu the monster that trapped you? Or was it someone else? How much have you suffered, Kiddo?

“Kiddo,” the affectionate term slipped out full of guilt and shame. “I did hurt you. You trusted me. How can that not be worse?”

“One panic attack and a little rope burn.” He shrugged, dismissively. A sad smile spread across his face. “Even before my quirk, I wouldn’t have counted it as that bad.”

Shots shook his head. “That can’t. No. How bad could it have been?”

Midoriya ticked off his fingers listing out the quirks of some of his year mates from Aldera and letting Shota paint his own vivid picture. Burns and bruises mottled the boy’s skin in his mind’s eye. He looked contemplatively at his bare feet before continuing, “It’s not the first time I’ve been choked; not that you actually choked me.” He shrugged again. “And it’s not like a little rug burn would’ve bought me a trip to the nurse’s office, anyway.”

Shota blinked and swallowed his sorrow. This kid had been through too much. He needed them. He needed rescuing. He’d needed it for a long time. “You’re more used to rough handling than I thought.” Shota stepped over to the boy and hugged him. “I am so sorry.”

Midoriya wrapped his arms around Shota’s middle and rested his head against his shoulder. He cautiously tucked his head into Shota’s chest, his nose brushing the tip of Shota’s long scar. “I didn’t safeword.”

Hizashi finally relaxed.

“You asked me to stop.”

“Not a safe word~,” Izuku replied cheekily into his chest. “You should know that; you’re the one that likes to play rope games.”

“You don’t have a safe word,” Shota chided, stepping back. He held Midoriya at arm’s length. “You’re barely dating, remember.” 

“Yeah,” Midoriya raised his head. He grinned cheekily (and damned if it didn’t fill Shota with a renewed sense of confidence and assurance, like everything was going to be okay), and asked, “You wanna use traffic lights, in the future?” 

“Izuku.” He leveled the boy with his sternest look.

“Kidding,” he placated, laughing and bringing his hands up to grip Shota’s forearms. “I’m kidding. I know you would never do anything like that again.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Shota asked. I know you’re Stray now. How can you think that when you know we suspect you?

“No, it hurt you too much.” His expression was so open and so trusting, that Shota wanted to believe him.

“Yeah,” he heard himself reply. “But… if I get that in my head again.” He released Midoriya’s shoulders to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Then, tell me,” Midoriya lowered his voice and whispered flirtily, “Midoriya, red light.” Then he grinned again. “And we’ll stop.”

“Midoriya,” he chided.

He laughed. “What?”

“You don’t know I’ll be able to do that.”

Green sparks crisscrossed his body, erratically at first but they quickly began following the paths of his veins and arteries in a rhythmic pulse; likely in time with the boy’s heartbeat. “I do, though.” 

Aizawa canceled his quirk. The power surrounding him died as quickly as it had been summoned. “No, you don’t,” he said harshly. I don’t know it. I want to hit you. To hurt you for what you did. To wrap you in bubble wrap, tell you it's okay, I know it’s not your fault and you never have to go back there. You never have to put yourself in that danger. And I know you’d never listen because you think they saved you. Because you think I’ll abandon you like all your other teachers. That you don’t deserve to be saved.

Shota was lost in introspection but he was staring straight at Midoriya.  At first, all he could see was the same vacancy in the boy as when he’d broken him in his capture weapon, and then he took in the vanished shadow and wanted to weep. He nearly missed the sudden side kick from the boy. He blinked as he blocked it. Midoriya swept around turning it into a smooth Crescent kick. Despite the increased speed from reactivating One for All, he gave Shota enough time to step back out of the way. He felt the hot, electric sparks that jumped between them. He continued backward, creating distance; fleeing that oppressive angry quirk.

Was this it? Would he run or go down fighting? He had grabbed a hostage at the USJ. This was bad.

“Hey, hey, hey! You two, stop,” Hizashi snapped. “Red light.”

Shota froze mid-strike, lamenting that he wasn’t wearing his capture weapon; again. Midoriya dropped One for All and returned to his neutral stance.

There was genuine panic on his husband’s face as he closed the remaining distance.

“He’s right, if we go all out, we’ll wake everyone,” Midoriya said before Hizashi could step between them. “Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck, in an unconscious imitation of Shota. ‘…you are his blueprint. You’re the type of hero he sees himself becoming. Please, don’t let us down Eraserhead.’

 “Yeah,” Shota agreed, lowering his leg, and relaxing his stance. “This was a bad idea.” He turned and walked out of the gym. Hizashi strode after him, worry etched on his face. 

They passed Yagi on the way out.

“Good luck,” Hizashi murmured to him.

Yagi furrowed his brow but continued on his way.

As soon as they were out of the building Hizashi snapped, “What the fuck was that?”

“He’s Stray.”

“Yeah, so what the fuck, Babe?”

Shota turned to look at him. “He’s a stray. One they tamed with affection and treats.”

“It’s gonna be so hard for him to trust us.”

“I’m not sure he can.”

“We’ll make it work. We can save him.”

“But first we have to convince him he deserves to be saved.”

 

Yagi passed Aizawa and Yamada on his way in. He furrowed his brow in confusion at Yamada’s whispered, “Good luck.”

He approached Izuku cautiously; making sure not to startle the boy, as he pulled his pink cloud-print top back on. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We were just sparing and got too into it.” He gave the man a sheepish grin. He started his usual cool-down routine. “Uh, was there something you needed?”

“Oh, um… We’re just taking turns keeping an eye on you lot.” He chuckled. “Do you want a coffee? I know you like the sweet kind.”

Izuku took the can of French Vanilla latte. “Thanks.”

“So, is the buy-in still six traumas? Or is it the full ten?” He led Izuku to a bench well away from the sleeping students. 

“Yeah, sure. Six is fine.” He sat down and opened the coffee. “You can pick whatever since it’s just us.”

“Alright, let’s see.” He tapped his cheek with his finger. “I was put in foster care when I was six.” He held up a finger. “Nana adopted me when I was fourteen. She died towards the end of my second year.” He held up a second finger. “Torino-sensei did not take it well.” He put up another finger. “My injury.” A fourth finger. “Pushing Mirai-kun away.” A fifth. “Leaving you on that roof.”

Izuku was quiet for a long time as he digested the shortlist. These were Yagi’s deepest traumas. Most of them involved losing loved ones, but meeting him was among that number. He knew that wasn’t how Yagi meant it, but he did seem to ruin everything he touched. Finally, he spoke.

“I suppose, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to be a burden. You were doing so much, training Kacchan and I. I needed to get passed it anyway.”

“Izuku, you know that’s not how it works.”

“I know that now,” Izuku said softly. Then, he grinned and added, “I did get passed it though. The smell of blood doesn’t bother me as much anymore.”

“Like tonight?”

“I… I don’t really remember. I know what happened but I don’t remember doing it.”

“That’s a problem, Izuku. You need to talk to someone about that. You can’t be a hero and do things like that; especially if you can’t control it.”

“Oh.” He looked into Yagi’s sunken eyes. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Hound Dog.”

“If you trust him,” Yagi said. “It’s important to trust your therapist.”

“Are you…”

“I’m still looking, but Hound Dog has made himself available for emergencies.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” He hunched his shoulders. “It’s particularly difficult to find someone, with my circumstances.”

“Yeah.” Izuku sat next to him, thoughtfully sipping on his coffee.

 

Ryo watched as Midoriya sullenly entered his office. He was the first student he was seeing for sessions after the attack. Midoriya was Stray, yet the mix of fear, the lingering traces of blood, and the smells of the boy’s loved ones put him at ease. He was the same scared child with abandonment issues he’d always been.

Midoriya poutily flung himself into one of the armchairs. “This is BS. I shouldn’t owe you a session for August.”

“And yet.”

“And yet you’re not even counting this session. ‘Emergency sessions don’t count toward our once-a-month agreement'.”

“To be fair, it’s not even August yet.” Ryo smiled. “So, talk to me about the training camp.”

“I mostly trained with Tiger and the third years. Pixie-bob, Mandalay, and Ragdoll took the latest shifts. Yesterday I trained with Tiger until lunch, then with Pixie-bob until dinner. After dinner, we went out to try to find Kota, Mandalay’s nephew. The fires started then. Or at least that’s when we spotted them. I was with Shoji, Tokoyami, and Shoto. A blue fire quirk user separated us from him. I tried to get around the fire but heard a scream. Dark Shadow was going wild and there was a wall of blades. I activated One for All and hit it until they were gone. I think Dark Shadow hit me once, but he let go quickly. I don’t think I was injured, but it’s all a bit fuzzy. Everything happened so fast.”

He nodded. That was a good cover, everything was likely jumbled and it would get truer over time as the memories faded. “That can happen. It’s usually the adrenaline, and you’ll get used to it in time.”

“That’s good,” Midoriya murmured.

“You know that the teeth they found from Moonfish weren’t broken.”

Midoriya froze. He tried to stutter out an excuse, but no sound would come.

Ryo slid forward on the couch until he could cover one of the boy’s hands with his own. “It’s okay, Izuku. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to help you. I can’t, won’t tell anyone what we talk about during these sessions.”

“Aizawa said –”

“Aizawa was overstepping. I will only tell him that you’re showing up to any mandatory session for his class. Like this one. Here you are,” Ryo picked up the clipboard with the roster of all the students involved on it, he put a check next to Midoriya’s name, “all reported.”

Midoriya smiled and some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Thanks.”

Ryo took a chance and pulled the boy into a hug. He was tactile. He wanted to trust them. Scent marking him would just push that along a tiny bit faster. Most humans had stronger pheromones in their dominant hand, but some animal-based mutations had other avenues. Ryo stuck with the feint traces of sweat that were produced on his palms; a dog’s scent marking was unpleasant to human sensibilities.

He ran his hands over Midoriya’s hair, neck, and shoulders. He even rubbed behind his ears. The muscles there were tight and likely to cause headaches, so he rubbed the area soothingly. Midoriya made a soft appreciative noise and pushed his forehead against Ryo’s chest.

Taking a breath, he was surprised by the intensity of Midoriya’s scent. Beneath the dried sweat and lingering smoke was a natural, soft, powdery, and fruity scent, similar to currants with an earthy or nutty undertone. Midoriya smelled like a cat.

“Huh.” Ryo took the liberty and rubbed Midoriya’s face on his neck and chest. “Is that better?”

“Y-yeah,” he blushed.

“No need to be ashamed. There’s nothing sexual about it. I smell like pack now. Like family.”

Midoriya nodded. “I shouldn’t be able to smell it. Not consciously.”

“But you can.”

“Yeah.”

“Accepting One for All has made your quirk stronger. That’s what Yagi said it’s supposed to do.”

Midoriya nodded. “It’s weird though.”

Ryo shrugged. “You have a mutation quirk and that comes with a lot of extras that most people don’t think about.” He paused. Then he lied to Midoriya, “It explains why you remained so attached to Bakugo despite the bullying. Every attack would re-scent you, making this aggressive alpha a part of your pack.”

Midoriya was quiet as he processed the information.

“I was going to give you a packet on anger management, but I think helping you understand your pack bonding issues is more important. There is a high risk for mutants with these issues to enter into abusive relationships and a low probability that we’ll leave them.”

“Ah,” he replied. “I’m still not dating Kuu.”

“And you don’t have to be. He could do everything right, and still hurt you because neither you nor he know about the issues you’re dealing with.” Ryo sighed. He rubbed his right palm on the back of Midoriya’s head. “You’re pack and it’s my job to teach you what that means.”

“So, what fresh hell am I in for?”

“Not fresh. You’ve had it as long as you’ve had your quirk.” Just over a year, he didn’t say. “I’m just going to be providing context for things you were already feeling and doing, or masking as the case may be. First, when you see your mom after this, give her a forehead boop. It’ll make her smell like you, which will go a long way in calming your anxiety. She’s not going to abandon you. Use her hands to get her smell on you. You’re her pup; you should smell like her. Same with any friends or teachers you trust enough to explain about this aspect of your quirk. You need to have a clear idea of who is colony and who isn’t.”

“Colony?”

“You smell like a cat. So, colony is more accurate than pack. Still going to call you a pup though.”

“Oh.” He thought for a moment. “So, my constant need for physical affection isn’t bad?”

“No, and once you’ve scent-marked the appropriate people, your general anxiety should lessen. Oh, and cats can get jealous if they smell an unfamiliar scent on their human. That could also be a source of anxiety for you.” After a pause, he added, “The threat to your friends likely heightened your aggression. I think if we get a handle on your quirk that should fix the issue.”

“It’s weird for someone else to know what’s going on in my head better than I do, but it’s nice to know. You know?”

“Yeah. I’ve just been doing it longer, and hey, you are not alone.”

 

Ryo hid his worry. He wagged his tail ever so slightly, to give the impression that this was a happy occasion. He perked his ears like a puppy as Inko entered the room. “Okay, we’ve learned something new about Midoriya-kun’s quirk. It’s nothing frightening or shameful. It could go a long way in explaining his attachment issues, general anxiety, and some emotional issues that have been cropping up lately.”

“Is Izuku alright?”Inko asked.

“Physically he’s in perfect shape and uninjured. Mentally, I’d wager he’s a bit fatigued and maybe a little fragile at the moment.”

“I’m not fragile,” Midoriya protested.

“You’re a survivor. You’d make it through any kind of stressors and walk out the other side with your head held high,” Ryo agreed. “But I worry about the coping mechanism you’re picking up to do that. Compartmentalizing as much as you do isn’t healthy. And you tend to put others before yourself.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Aizawa said I’m a people pleaser.”

“It can be a symptom of abuse and neglect. You’re afraid that if you don’t then people will leave you.”

He hunched his shoulders.

Inko stepped closer to her son and put an arm around him. “It’s okay, baby. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together.”

“Good. Part of his quirk is a hidden mutation; Izuku gives off cat-like pheromones. This is often paired with similar animal-like behaviors.”

Inko looked at him curiously. She instinctively tightened her grip on Midoriya. A slight frown formed on her face.

Ryo continued, “It will get more pronounced as his quirk strengths. It’s not a bad thing. Normal humans can and will pack-bond with anything. The difference is that Izuku is afraid of being alone or abandoned, and of being vulnerable, he’ll have a harder time picking healthy social connections and he will express affection more physically, he has both trust issues and difficulty setting boundaries. –”

“I’m working on that,” Midoriya spoke up, grumpily.

“That’s good,” Ryo praised him. “He’ll idealize his social connections, and seek out the perceived safety of protective – likely older, more experienced – individuals.”

“Is it just me, or does that sound like d–”

“Parental abandonment issues,” Ryo supplied. “The absence of his father, even if just physically, will exacerbate these issues. It will give you a more familiar framework to go off of.”

“I’m not –” Midoriya cut himself off. “I don’t have daddy issues.”

“I never said you did. I said you have abandonment issues.”

“Same thing,” he grumbled.

“Let’s stay focused on the pack bonding for now,” Ryo suggested. “So, in cases like this, one of the treatments for abandonment issues and anxiety is scent marking. Humans give off decent pheromones from their dominant hand, so re-scenting Izuku every day after he showers will reaffirm your bond.” Ryo reached over and took Inko’s right hand and rubbed it against Midoriya’s forehead. “Izuku produces a catlike pheromone from his palms and forehead. Petting his hair, forehead, cheeks, neck, shoulders, and chest should mix your smells nicely. Look into cat anxiety issues and behaviors to head off potential issues.”

“I know this is weird,” Midoriya said. His shoulders were hunched and his feet were tucked tightly together.

“New,” Ryo corrected softly as he pushed down on Midoriya’s shoulders. The physical correction helped the boy; he widened his stance in response.

“If it helps,” Inko replied firmly, “I don’t care how weird it is.” She reached out and petted her son’s hair gently. It was an unsure gesture, timid and apprehensive. 

He stepped into a hug and leaned down to rub his forehead against her cheek. Emboldened by his acceptance, Inko embraced her son. She mimicked his gestures; rubbed their noses together and stroked his hair.

After five minutes, he stepped back and took a deep breath. He felt the same sense of comfort and belonging he felt at Kuroi Ba. It made him a little sad to think that his bond with the League might be more pheromone-based and less an emotional connection. 

“Izuku?” his mother asked, reaching out to him.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. I just.” He wiped the welling tears from his eyes. “What if it’s just chemicals and I’m not as close to-to Toki, Hiki, and Kuu as I think I am?”

“That’s something you will have to explore,” Ryo said bluntly, “in all of your relationships, not just your gym friends,” 

“Kacchan,” he said sadly. 

Inko pulled Izuku into a hug again, tucking him under her chin.

Ryo nodded. “So, let’s start with him. I want you to journal your interaction with him between now and our next session. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Izuku replied slowly. “I don’t want to tell him about this.”

“That’s your decision. Trusting him again will be a long and difficult road; one that you really haven’t started on.”

“We’ve been getting along.”

“But, you haven’t addressed his past transgressions,” Ryo replied.

“It makes him sad,” Midoriya admitted.

“And how does it make you feel?”

The boy shrugged. “Sad, angry, but, um, it isn’t Kacchan’s fault. I followed him around. I used him.”

“How so?”

“If I was his favorite target the other kids would leave me alone. And he never took it too far.”

“Never?”

Midoriya shook his head. “Not on purpose. Once he learned to control his quirk, he hardly ever burned me.”

“But he did burn you.”

Midoriya was about to defend Bakugo again when his mother sniffled. “Uh. Mom, it’s not. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Izuku, he hurt you. And, and you didn’t tell me. It was so bad you had to hide it from me.”

Midoriya took a moment to process that. His instinct to protect his mother warred with the ten years of hiding and covering for Bakugo. He sighed. “Yeah, I need to tell you things. I’m sorry. It’s a hard habit to break. Whenever Kacchan got in trouble, I had to spend a few days without his protection. So, I stopped tattling on him. It was a small price to pay for safety.”

“One that you no longer have to pay,” Ryo assured him. “You do have to set boundaries and value yourself. You shouldn’t have to choose between one source of abuse and another.”

Inko nodded firmly.

“I’d like to have a few sessions with the two of you together,” Ryo continued, “to work on your relationship. I’m thinking about an extra half hour tacked on to your regular sessions to include your mother.”

Midoriya nodded reluctantly. “I guess that’s okay. Maybe the structure will help me open up to Mom more.” 

Inko patted his arm. “We’ll handle things together. You don’t have to hide things from me anymore.”

“Yeah.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“And in return, Inko, you need to be more forthcoming with your emotions. Izuku has a bad habit of trying to anticipate people’s feelings and overlooking his own. If we let him know how we feel he won’t need to guess.”

Nodding, and biting her lip, just a little, Inko hesitantly met Izuku’s eyes. “I’d like you to stay home for a couple of days. You’re not in trouble; I’d just feel better knowing you were home and safe.”

“Oh, yeah, sure I can stay until you fall asleep,” Midoriya offered.

Inko shook her head. “We’re not negotiating. I want you to stay home for two days. You can have friends over.”

“People sleep,” Midoriya said, a bit of a whine creeping into his voice.

 “Have one of your gym friends over, they’re up all night,” she countered.

 “You don’t want me going out, but I can bring a stranger over while you sleep?”

“Ideally, they’d come over before I went to bed. And I want to meet your gym friends anyway.” She smiled warmly at him. “You are concerned about how this will affect your relationships. How close can you really be if you won’t even introduce them to your mother?”

 Ryo wanted to chastise her for emotional manipulation, but not in front of Midoriya. After all, she didn’t mean it to be manipulative; she just needed to be more careful with her wording.

“I, um… Yeah. Okay. You’re right. I should have introduced you already. Uh, I’ll call and see if anyone can come over today.”

  “Thank you.”

 “Just remember,” he warned, and continued in a soft singsong, “All my friends are heathens, take it slow. Wait for them to ask you who you know. Please don't make any sudden moves. You don't know the half of the abuse~.”

 “It can’t really be that bad, can it?”

Midoriya nodded. “We make light of it, and it varies, but benign neglect is the least of the offenses.”

Inko’s concerned expression became a tight line of guilt.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. That’s what happened, and I’m the one that’s sorry.”

“Okay,” Ryo said with a nod. “Izuku, I’m going to print a couple of packets off for you, and I need to get Inko to sign some things. Would you mind waiting in the gym?”

Midoriya froze for a second. “Yeah, no problem.” 

Ryo was afraid for a moment that he would object. Fortunately, the teen just gave his mother a tight hug and left the room. Ryo was certain that Midoriya was just afraid of his carefully compartmentalized life being blended.

Chapter 81: Unexpected Ripples

Izuku went straight to Shinso. He practically crawled into his lap.

“You okay?” he asked adjusting so Izuku could sit comfortably.

“No.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Wanna talk about something else?”

“No.”

“Mind if I watch cat videos on my phone?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Shinso settled down on his cot so they were lying down together. The vibration of his chest as he snickered, chuckled, and murmured at the feline antics soothed Izuku. “Silly kitty. Aw, it’s a Momther. Haha.”

Izuku repositioned to see the phone as well. After some time he said, “I wonder if you like me because I smell like a cat.”

“Do you?” Shinso asked.

“Yeah, Inui-sensei told me.”

Shinso shrugged. “I can’t smell it, so I don’t think that’s it. I think it might be that you’re a crazy chaos goblin, disguised as a literal ray of sunshine.”

Izuku chuckled. “Then you’re like moonlight. Calm and easy on the eyes. Great for just chilling with.”

“Great, I’m the 'mom' friend.”

“Nuh-uh. You’re the one that says ‘do a flip,’ when we’re considering jumping off of something.”

“Ha. Yeah.”

“I have pack bonding issues.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, as if afraid to disturb their lightly stirring classmates. “It could mean that I pick bad friends and relationships because I won’t let go of people that are bad for me.”

“Onii-san,” Shinso said flatly. He wrapped an arm around Izuku.

Izuku blinked at his reaction. It was protective. It made him feel safe. Shinso would protect him from Kacchan.

“Mei and I will help you. If it's pheromone-based she can upgrade your filter. If it’s emotional, we’ll be there for you.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s what friends do.”

The pair cuddled and watched cat videos until Inko came out.

 

Inko waited a full minute before asking, “So what did you want to tell me, that you couldn’t say in front of Izuku?”

“Firstly, you’re not wrong to want to meet his friends. However, the phrasing ‘How close can you really be if you won’t even introduce them to your mother’ is problematic. It implies that his feelings for them aren’t valid or real. He does care for them; he’s just accustomed to compartmentalizing his life. Not mixing the different areas seems natural and correct to him. We need to guide him slowly and safely, showing that his home life, his school life, and his social life can all coexist peacefully. He will be uncomfortable and anxious about introducing you but it is for the best.” Ryo spoke steadily and casually. He was as professional as he had been the entire time.

You would never know he had an internal crisis about an unaware civilian meeting members of the League of Villains. He knew he had to inform the other teachers, but there was nothing they could do. If they interfered in any way, it would tip their hand. He didn’t think they’d hurt Inko, but they were still dangerous.

He sat in front of his computer and printed out a set of packets. “This one has a few guidelines for you. Dealing with pack bonding issues isn’t that difficult once you know what to look out for. This one is for Izuku-kun to read and fill out, some extra copies of the relationship evaluation page, and a form to allow Yuuei to provide ongoing long-term mental health care for him.”

“How does that differ from what you’re doing now?”

“I could diagnose his anxiety, for one thing.”

“Would that mean putting him on medication?”

“Not necessarily. Cognitive behavioral therapy and antidepressants are the most common treatments for generalized anxiety disorder. We’d start with therapy, and see if that works. His acute anxiety is a bit more concerning. He’s been having panic attacks.”

Inko blinked at him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to make sure I was giving you the best information.”

Inko gave him a flat unimpressed look.

Ryo grinned at her. “Yuuei takes a very independent approach with its students. Parents tend to … react to the danger we’re preparing their students for.”

“React? Not overreact?”

Ryo shrugged. “I won’t invalidate your feelings. Izuku has chosen a dangerous path.”

“So, Yuuei doesn’t like to involve parents?”

“It’s often inconvenient for the staff.”

“Really?”

“Heroes face life and death situations every day. We’re preparing them for that. Parents tend to object because they think we’re being too hard on them.”

“Are you?”

“This year has been particularly rough.” He sighed. “Aizawa will take that into account and be gentler with them in other areas. We’ll still need to strengthen their quirks, or in Izuku’s case translate his technical skills into his super strength.”

“Super strength?”

“Yeah, he’s dealing with a late-blooming, multifaceted quirk and while he’s playing catch-up he’s not as far behind his classmates as you’d expect. The year of training he got, for example, puts him far ahead of his peers in hand-to-hand combat. He’s one of the most skilled fighters in his year. Most of the time, we spend the first year drilling the basics of combat into them and honing their quirks. Izuku was trained very well in fighting, so he can spend the extra time he needs mastering his quirk.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

Ryo shifted uncomfortably. “It’s throwing us for a loop as well. You’re not alone.”

“There’s nothing like this on either side of the family.” She shook her head.

“Mutations are rare, especially ones this severe, but they do happen,” he replied, trying to keep his tone light and casual.

Inko shook her head. “The healing, I’m grateful for. But, all these changes. I don’t know how to handle it.”

“Honestly, you’re doing great,” Ryo said. “Just being there, accepting him for who he is, is an amazing step in the right direction. The rest will come with experience.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Inui-san?”

He looked down, sighed, and met her eyes with conviction. “I’m being paranoid. Izuku has been very upfront about his friends, but I still worry. He’s… vulnerable. Still, coddling him won’t give him the skills he’ll need to flourish.”

“You don’t seem like the type to judge people like that.”

“Why was Kuu at the hospital? When did they have a chance to talk?” He sighed again. “I don’t mean to worry you, just. I’d feel better if you had my, and some of the other staff’s, contact information.”

Inko nodded. “I can understand that. I’d like to know more about them as well, especially Kuu. Izuku seems especially close with him, and he’s never been particularly comfortable with adults. They tend to either ignore him or treat him like he’s delicate.”

Ryo nodded. “And proving them wrong has made him reckless. Thank you, Inko. That will go a long way in helping with his behavioral issues.”

“That makes it sound like he’s a problem.”

“Sorry. He’s a great kid. He just needs some care - ah, professional care - to patch over some gaps in his socialization. Knowing what we’re making up for helps a lot.”

“I feel like I failed him.”

Ryo took her hands. “You made mistakes, but you haven’t failed. B plus parenting is good, especially by yourself and fighting a system hell-bent on crushing him. With help, you’re going to do amazing. Plus Ultra.”

Inko smiled at him. “Plus Ultra.”

 

Yagi settled into the large, comfortable office chair at the far end of the meeting room. Nezu was going to go over some footage, and general strategy with them as soon as the students were all sent home. There wasn’t an exact time frame for that since they each had to meet with Inui before leaving. It was rare he had a moment to himself, so he pulled out his DSR and booted up Animal Crossing. His yellow, lop-eared rabbit avatar was watering the houseplants on the load screen. Once in the game, he checked his mail: fruit from Izuku (his avatar was called Sae) and Inko, a letter from Melissa, and an invite from ‘Toki’.

He read the friend invite first, wondering what that fiend could possibly want. Hello, I see you are friends with Sae and Mama Bear. And your Native Fruit is Lemon. Here is an Orange. Let’s be friends.

He wanted to trade fruits. It was so incongruous with his image of the man he chuckled. Might as well. He accepted the invite and mailed ‘Toki’ a lemon. He ported over to ‘Moonshade Isle’ to see what ‘Toki’ had built over the last … god had it really only been five days? It was Wednesday, last Friday they’d gotten back from I-island.

He sighed and ran his little avatar around the classically square island with two rivers, ideal for the fishing and sailing tasks. There had been an impressive amount of work done. He’d built a cute little waterfall that you could fish in. It was labeled with a sign that said ‘Trash Pond Exploit’. His orchard was impressive for being less than a week old; he already had five different types of fruit. He was also making a large flower garden and had signposts all over. Most of them labeled the things you could or couldn’t interact with on the island. One said, ‘Event Fish Exploit in Progress, Do Not Fish!’ and a single tile was fenced off next to the water.

Otaku .

 

Uraraka fretted, still in the borrowed pajamas. Ryo smiled as she sat on the couch. “We’re talking to you a lot more than I thought we would,” she said nervously.

“Good mental health is important for heroes.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Um. I don’t know what to talk about. I mean it was scary, but I don’t think I’m traumatized or anything.”

“This is just to check in and make sure that remains the case. You can talk about anything you want.”

“Ever since Iida… I don’t feel like I’m friends with anyone in class. Tsu and I get along, and Momo invited me to I-island, but she did that for all the girls. I haven’t really connected with anyone, the way I had with him.”

“It’s understandable that you feel that way. Greif affects everyone. And with everything that’s happened, you and your classmates haven’t had time to process his loss. It hasn’t been that long, and it’s perfectly normal for you to still be in the early stages of grief.”

“Oh,” she said as if just realizing. “It has only been three months. It feels like longer.”

“It’s been eventful. I have a worksheet that might help you. And, because you’re staying in an apartment, alone, I’d recommend calling a classmate or two every night to talk to; at least an hour, total.”

She cocked her head.

“Your disconnect with your peers may be an unfulfilled social need. It’s best to cover all our bases.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

 

Shinso sat stiffly in one of Ryo’s armchairs. Nervous and uncomfortable. 

“I’m missing waffles for this.” Defensive, deflecting.

“Lunch Rush will make you some when we’re finished,” he replied, calmly. “So, tell me about the training camp.”

“What’s to tell? We were out looking for Mandalay’s kid when the fire started, then the place was flooded with villains. I hesitated when fighting Stray, and because of that, Kaminari got burned.”

“Shinso,” Ryo said. “You didn’t shove him into that burning tree. You are not responsible for the attack. Kaminari knows the dangers of his quirk.”

“I couldn’t do anything.”

“You’re a first-year student. You haven’t even been to a regular hero course lesson. Inexperience is not a character flaw. You’ll learn, grow, and improve.”

“I’m never going anywhere without my capture weapon.”

Ryo frowned, but he didn’t argue.

 

Koda was a special case and Ryo really liked working with him. His quirk was voice-based, and like many vocal quirks, it meant he had a hard time speaking for one reason or another. In Koda’s case, it was self-consciousness. He could speak to and be understood by animals. Humans are still animals at the end of the day, so his intentions were clearer. Conversely, he had a harder time lying or concealing his feelings. On top of that, he socialized with many different kinds of animals, not just domestic ones.

The poor kid came off as blunt and sometimes harsh in the past when he just trying to be honest or realistic. It led him to be shy around humans. Ryo had found an easy way to get him to open up.

Koda sat on the couch, and Ryo on the floor in front of him. A rabbit being raised by the gardening club was dining on his coffee table. Koda idly rubbed Ryo’s ears as he talked.

“Does it get any easier?”

“Yeah, with experience.”

Koda hummed. “We’ve had it particularly hard, huh?”

“Very much so.” Ryo tilted his head to get scritched on a particular spot. “I imagine you’ll find normal heroing events less stressful, after all of this. You know you can stay calm under pressure.”

“True.”

 

Tomura yawned and stretched. He got up and padded into the kitchen. Toga had made rice. He dished himself up with the rabbit-shaped scoop. Opening the fridge, he hummed about his options. He grabbed leftover chicken skewers, shiitake and sesame skewers, mixed pickled vegetables, and chopped half a cabbage to salt and dip in tonkatsu sauce. Overall, it was a healthy breakfast, and he could eat it cold.

He flopped down on the couch and booted up a simple farming sim. As much as he’d like to take the whole day off and just heal up, he knew they needed to keep striking at the heart of hero society. The education system had to be dismantled. As he weeded the field in his game, Tomura considered the best way to expose the flaws in the middle schools of Stray’s classmates and what other methods they could use to attack the roots of the hero school problem.

Stray was actually really good at coming up with stuff like that, and he privately lamented that he couldn’t just ask him. Using the deep web was great for promoting Stain; he was already popular there. This would require more mainstream attention if it was going to bear fruit. Essays and forum posts would only get them so far. The videos of Stain were seeping into the mainstream. Tomura had seen a few stills used for memes. That was something to think about.

His phone chimed with the custom notification he’d set for Stray; the pathetic mewing of an alley cat seeking attention. Tomura glanced at the message.

Can you come over tonight? Mom wants to keep me home.

He did a double-take. That couldn’t be right. Stray was inviting him to meet Mama Bear. He must have sent it by mistake.

Kuu’s still asleep, I’ll let him know you asked him.

I’m asking you, Toki.

Sure, I can come over. We could use the downtime, and there’s something I want to discuss with you anyhow. What time?

Dinner’s at eight. So anytime after seven is fine.

I’m not helping you cook.

Duh. What do you want to eat?

Kuu will feed me, I’ll come over at nine.

Come over for dinner, mom wants to get to know my friends. 

Is that a good idea?

Sure, it will calm her down. She’s been really nervous about you guys. You’re all mysterious and it’ll be good to pull back the curtains and show her a bored otaku.

Whatever, Sae. See you at eight.

 

He had started out sprawled on the couch. Now he was sitting up with his arms clutched in front of him. One hand reached up to touch the mask he always wore. “Is it easier to wear the muzzle?”

Ryo cocked his head. “It shunts the force of blows away from my nose, so yes? But I’m sure that’s not the answer you’re looking for.”

“Izuk– Midoriya does not think my face is frightening.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes. Yaoyorozu agreed that I’m cute.” He shifted moving his feet closer together, trying to take up less space. “No one’s ever called me cute before.”

Ryo reached up and unfastened his muzzle. He pulled it off revealing a much narrower face. He shrugged off his coat as well. The barrel-chested bara was gone. Ryo wasn’t small by any means; he stood six foot five inches in his socks and was a good two hundred and fifty pounds. His body shape was entirely different and his face nearly unrecognizable. “You’ve got good friends. Maybe, when classes start back up, try not to wear the mask as much. Take it off for homeroom to start.”

“I’ll try.” Shoji pulled his mask down for the rest of the session.

 

“Hey,” Tomura said softly, pausing his game, when Kurogiri finally came out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Tomura. I’m just resting. Are you eating well?” Kurogiri opened the fridge to scrounge a meal.

“Yeah. I had cabbage and pickled veg. There’s still some rice that Toga made.”

Kurogiri hummed appreciatively.

“Stray’s staying home tonight.”

“Pity.”

“He asked me to come over and keep him company.”

Kurogiri turned to look at him. “To meet his mother?”

Tomura nodded.

“Strange.”

“He’s an underage kid and she wants to meet his weird, nocturnal, gym-rat, delinquent friends. It’s not strange,” Tomura rasped.

“He asked for you and not Himiko,” Kurogiri said reminding Tomura uncomfortably of Sensei.

“So?” he said defensively.

“Why?”

“Duh,” Tomura spat. “He’s my bodyguard. He wants me where he can protect me. If Toga goes, who knows what we’ll get up to unsupervised? I might antagonize another useless gang leader behind his back. He can’t have that, not coming off a major engagement where I could have been injured.”

“You make a very good point, Tomura,” Sensei said from the TV.

Tomura swallowed. “Uh, thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.”

 

“Tell me about the training camp,” Ryo prompted.

“Aizawa had us hike to the camp, while the Pussycats attacked us with dirt monsters. We made it to the camp on time because of Momo’s leadership and Midoriya’s strategy. I don’t think the third years appreciate it, though. They gave us a hard time about doing it quickly instead of slogging through the long hike and endless opponents. When the last of us got there, the blue one harassed some of the strongest male students. I’m not sure who had the biggest problem with it, but Bakugo threatened her and Todoroki was very protective of Midoriya. At the end of his internship, he was doused with Blush. The whole thing with Iida kinda overshadows it, but I’ve been careful not to bake with cinnamon or peppermint since then; to not risk triggering him.”

Inui blinked at Sato. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Let’s see. During lunch, Midoriya did some quirk analysis on Momo and me. He suggested I add sweet potatoes to reduce my crash. It might actually help. I worry about the drop in cognitive function when I use my quirk, especially after failing the final.”

Ryo nodded and made a note.

“The rest of the day, I was assigned weight training with most of the others who had strength-based quirks. Midoriya was working with Tiger, and Mezo was with Toru. I get that my quirk is one note, but I don’t see how Midoriya’s warranted one-on-one training and I didn’t.”

“He needed assessment,” Ryo explained. “You went through an assessment with Aizawa at the start of the year.”

“Oh! That makes sense. Thanks.” Sato sat up straighter in his chair. “I noticed how people with similar quirks were split up between the classes. I was a little nervous about competing with him. He’s like super strong and it just came out of nowhere.”

“It is a bit of a strange case,” Ryo agreed.

“Yeah, so things were normal after that, curry for dinner, a soak in the hot springs, and then bed. We were all exhausted. And Aizawa got us up early.” He was quiet for a moment. “Then the pranks started. It was a little weird at the time because no one knew who was behind it. It’s frightening now, to look back and think how much damage those villains could have done if they’d wanted. We didn’t even know we were in danger.” He shivered at the memory. “I laughed at Momo when – when she went to open a can of nuts and it was one of those stupid fake snakes. She could have been hurt and I laughed at it.”

“You had no way of knowing. The camp’s location was a secret. Every precaution was taken.”

“I was in the remedial class when they attacked. That shadow guy choked me. I wasn’t any use.”

Platitudes of him being a first-year student died on Ryo’s lips. “All Might struggled with the same villain.”

“I, I guess. He shredded that shadow, though.”

“And the villain changed his strategy, not giving a hero with super strength the leverage to use it after that.”

Sato nodded. “After the fight, I went out to look for Momo, even though Vlad King told us to stay at the camp. I know I shouldn’t have, but all I could think was I couldn’t let our last interaction be bickering.” He went quiet again. “I’m glad she didn’t need my help.”

“You got her back to camp safely, just because it wasn’t a fight doesn’t mean you didn’t help.”

Chapter 82: Profile

Nezu caught the little flash of All Might Red as Yagi put away what he thought was his phone. He twitched his whiskers as his quirk processed the dimensions of the object. Three and a half inches by six inches by half an inch; it was simply too thick to be a phone. His mind skimmed through a list of visually similar objects and landed on an old hand-held game system. He corrected with the facts that he had never seen Yagi with this device before, and that he’d been on I-island in the last week. Simply put, it was a Dual Screen Retro in Bright Red with a Sunshine Yellow I-island logo.

Interesting.

He hopped onto his chair and took stock of the staff members gathered to discuss how to handle the current crisis. It wasn’t everyday you learn that one of your students was a high-level villain, and working for the most powerful crime lord in Japan. It meant keeping the circle small; especially with a potential traitor still lurking about.

While it was possible that Midoriya-kun had informed them of both the USJ training and the camp’s location, it would be unwise to assume he was their only avenue of information. The break in implied that they weren’t relying on Midoriya-kun.

“So, what’s the new lesson plan?” Hizashi-kun asked as he sat down.

“That’s what we’re here to figure out,” Nezu replied.

“Can we start with the profiles?” Shota-kun asked.

“Of course!” Nezu replied, almost gleefully. He tapped the built-in controls on the table and a screen descended from the ceiling.

A power point style slide appeared on screen presenting a small picture of a human silhouette and a number of bullet points. Other than One for All’s villain name and a short description of his quirk, even the most basic information was missing. They had no idea of his real name or date of birth. And while he had been presumed dead for the last five years, Nezu had put together a timeline of events that could reasonably be connected to him, spanning the last seventy-five years.

“All for One,” Nezu began, “runs the largest organized crime operation in Japan, controlling most of the drug trade and a significant portion of the human trafficking. We don’t know his identity, or what he currently looks like. He is well funded and well protected. He operates primarily through proxies. His quirk is the removal and re-implantation of quirks. He likely has a secondary ability that allows him to sense quirks in some way. He has at least some medical knowledge, but could supplement that by working alongside a doctor.”

The screen switched to a picture of Nomu, and a new set of bullet points.

“Seemingly unrelated disappearances and people inexplicably falling into a catatonic state, bizarre cases of late developing quirks, and even the Villain Factory incidents in Naruhata were all stepping stones to the creation of this,” he gestured at the picture, “Nomu. Likely not the only of its kind, this, for lack of a better term, creature is made out of the bodies of several different individuals. Their disparate quirks fused together to make a formidable opponent for All Might.” He paused. “We suspect an unknown medical associate because so much of the work done to construct Nomu would have been surgeries. Attaching an arm here or transplanting a lung there. It would be a time consuming, and painstaking process.” Nezu gestured at a stock photo of a surgeon.

“So, we’ve got Frankenstein, his monster, and Doctor Igor,” Matsushita-kun asked.

Nezu nodded. “If Frankenstein was also a crime lord on the side and made a habit of recruiting child soldiers, yes. I think that about sums him up. Next,” he changed the slide again, “is Tomura Shigaraki.”

“Not much new info on him,” Hizashi-kun said.

“Actually,” Matsushita said drawing out the word more than was necessary, “Not only can we update his profile with whatever tidbits we know from Midoriya, but we got a doozie of a report from Detective Tsukauchi. He faxed it over just a bit ago. They managed to get more info out of Mandalay’s nephew. So, for anyone out of the loop: Shigaraki and a villain known as Muscular were stationed in a cave on the cliff near the camp. After a short conversation where the boy thought Shigaraki was a reporter, Muscular attacked him. Before he could be injured, Shigaraki killed Muscular. He then gave the boy Muscular’s gas mask to protect him from the toxic gas, and walked him back to the camp to keep him safe. He told Kota that he was a villain, and was fully responsible for anything the other villains did while attacking. Further, he sympathized with the kid’s loss, and told him that he’d lost his parents when he was little. He told Kota that ‘heroes are people who hurt their own families to help complete strangers’.”

“That,” Hizashi-kun said, “is a level of maturity he didn’t display at the USJ. Could he have change that much in five months?”

Nezu considered the possibilities. “No, he was most likely putting on a front. The effectiveness of their combat tactics, the teamwork, how quickly they adapted to change and setbacks… he may be the least mature of the three, but he is by no means, as previously assumed, a spoilt man-child.”

“He’s…” Yagi-kun began. He paused before changing tactics. “He friended me on Animal Crossing. I know it sounds like I’m disagreeing, but I looked at his town. He’s methodical and meticulous. He’s had the game for less than a week and built a trash pond exploit, found a spot to fish for event or region locked fish, collected most of the types of native fruit, and labeled everything so visitors don’t accidentally mess up his hard work.”

“Midoriya would agree as well, he told me that Lunar Gaia: Blue Heart is his favorite game because of the depth of story. And he correctly predicted a major plot twist in the most recent game,” Inui-kun agreed. “Midoriya described him as cunning, observant, and tactical; merely acting like a lazy otaku, but planning and doing enough to keep his handlers happy. Tomura has very little filter, causing him to have emotional outbursts, which would look like immaturity, but he let’s go of his emotions quickly.”

“And he has no issue sharing his leadership roll,” Nezu added with a nod. “Here, you can see the subtle signals they sent each other as they entered the USJ facility.” A close up of Kurogiri’s mist brushing against Shigaraki’s hand played on the screen. Shigaraki’s fingers flexed in response. It was so brief and discreet that if it wasn’t playing on loop even the teachers would have missed the two fingers pressed together, then the second curling into his fist.

“A count down?” Shota-kun asked.

“Finger spelling,” Hizashi-kun corrected. “U, D?”

The video continued, and Kurogiri warped to the top of the stairs to block the door.

“Up,” Nezu said, “Door.” He played a clip of Shigaraki watching his son fighting the horde of thugs. “If you look closely here, you can see his eye tracking Aizawa-kun. He’s counting the seconds between blinks. He analyzed Aizawa-kun’s quirk before making his attack.”

Shota-kun rubbed his elbow. When he looked up again, the screen was displaying Stray talking to Tomura Shigaraki, then Kurogiri joined them.

“I wish we could hear what they saying,” Hizashi-kun muttered, “or see their mouths.”

Shota-kun watched the loop carefully. Stray stepped up to Shigaraki and leaned in close. Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed. Kurogiri appeared next to them. Shigaraki addressed him. They exchanged words. Stray shook his head subtlety. Shigaraki asked something; it was obvious by the way he gestured at Nomu, off screen. Stray replied, he scratched the back of his head as he spoke, a gesture the self-conscious boy made frequently. Shigaraki chuckle, and ordered Nomu to release Eraserhead. Stray grimaced at the sight. Shigaraki said something to him, which caused him to stand taller. Shigaraki shrugged and gestured at Eraserhead.

“At the end they were talking about giving me first aid. Izuku is the reason I didn’t bleed out,” Shota-kun said. His voice was subdued, but there was a tiny glimmer of hope in it.

“He convinced Shigaraki,” Nezu replied, hoping to fan that spark.

“It didn’t take much; he was already impressed with me during the fight,” Shota-kun said, ruefully.

“Good, he assessed you correctly, then.” Nezu changed the slide to a still taken from the USJ incident. “Kurogiri next. We have the least information about him. He seems efficient and serious.”

“Midoriya said he’s in his thirties, level-headed, paternal…” Shota-kun trailed off.

“Domestic, helpful, practical,” Yagi added.

“And grooming Izuku,” Shota-kun replied. He continued quietly, “In the club… before I was turned to face the wall, he called Izuku love, and they said ‘I love you’ to each other. Izuku set boundaries, but Kurogiri pushed them deliberately. As if to see how far Izuku would actually go.”

“And Izuku let it slip that he was dating someone from his gym when he first started training with us,” Hizashi-kun added.

“The bracelet.” Shota-kun touched the button he wore on a cord around his neck. “It’s a dark color –”

“Burgundy,” Hizashi-kun supplied, running his fingers over the bracelet he wore his wedding ring on.

“Wrapped around the wrist twice, with a decorative square knot, and secured with a frog knot closure,” Shota-kun finished.

“So, we’re thinking honey trap,” Hizashi-kun finished.

Nezu’s nose twitched. “Unfortunately. And this brings us to Stray.”

“Midoriya,” Shota-kun corrected.

“Yes, you’re absolutely right, Midoriya-kun.” He changed the image on the profile from an image taken at the USJ to Midoriya-kun’s school photo. The boy looked like he was being held at gunpoint. “Our student is, on the surface, plain in appearance, lacking any regard for his own wellbeing, and eager to please; especially with adults. As a villain, he is resourceful, cunning, and fearless.  Despite his age, he was giving orders to the thugs they used at the USJ. Shigaraki clearly listened to whatever he had said before administering first aid to Aizawa-kun. And he was given the final say in the night club. As for the Stain murders, while he did participate it was limited to containment, provocation, and filming.”

“He was also the one that grabbed me,” Shota-kun said just loud enough to be heard. “But, he did keep the other two in line. He did enforce the boundaries he set. Nothing below the belt. He stopped Kurogiri from-from…”

“You don’t have to –” Hizashi-kun said soothingly.

“It’s fine.” Shota-kun cleared his throat. “I stumbled on to Midoriya in the crowd. He was walking away from a group of young women.”

“Club bunnies. I think I’ve seen them around,” Hizashi-kun added.

Shota-kun grunted at the interruption. “I was maybe three feet from him when his shadow wrapped around me and slammed me into a wall. I had miss-identified the girl with them as a hostage; Kurogiri was holding her by the neck and one wrist.”

“An understandable mistake.”

“Kurogiri let her go, and used the scarf I was wearing to blindfold me.”

“That explains why you never picked it up from evidence,” Hizashi-kun remarked. He laced his fingers together with Shota’s.

“He let me know they weren’t going to hurt her that they were just out for a good time. Midoriya told them ‘Nothing below the belt’ and the girl started to move me. I struggled. Midoriya tightened his hold, and reminded me that I couldn’t be heard over the crowd.” Shota-kun shook his head. “Fuck, I’m getting those goddamn communicators. You too,” he told Hizashi-kun.

“Hey, yeah, that’s actually a really good idea. We all should.”

Nezu nodded. Most of 1-A had already adopted them, but it wouldn’t be much of an expense to make them standard. The irony that Midoriya had a hand in designing them was not lost on him.

“Mic was DJing, and played remix of Love the Way You Lie by Rihanna and Eminem.”

“Oh god, why?” Inui-kun asked.

“It’s an audio stim for both of us. At least it was.”

Shota-kun nodded. “It was something of an anthem of us. We’d play it at each other if we thought one of us was spiraling, or falling into old habits, or sometimes just because it drowns out all the sounds. It worked to calm us down and get us talking; might have to find something else for awhile.”

Hizashi-kun wrapped his arm around Shota. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your turn to be sorry. You may have dragged me to the club but you didn’t bring the villains there. You didn’t make them attack me.” Shota-kun grabbed his other hand and held it as he continued. “Midoriya pressed up against my back, and dug through my pockets. He took my phone and zip cuffs. They cuffed me, and started recording. ‘Didn’t want me to miss the show.’ Kurogiri held my head while someone, I think it was the girl, applied lipstick to me. He called me ‘Gorgeous’ after that. He, he was practically flirting with me. They moved away from the wall and undid my shirt.” He paused and took a steadying breath.

“It’s okay, babe, you can stop if you need to.”

“I think I need to share, even if it’s cruel of me to do so.”

“Why would you think it’s cruel?” Inui-kun asked.

“Putting this image of Midoriya in your and Yagi’s heads. We have to rescue him, but this is what we’re saving him from.” He looked around the table. “They’ll chip away at his boundaries. First they had him assault someone he knows and before he even had time to process it he was out participating in a triple homicide.”

“Do you want to stop or take a break?” Nezu asked softly.

“No,” Shota-kun replied firmly. “Midoriya reminded them of the boundary. The girl pulled out some cheap scented body glitter. Strawberry.” He wrinkled his nose. “I tried to shout again, and the crowd started chanting.”

“Oh god,” Hizashi-kun murmured. He buried his face in Shota’s shoulder.

“Midoriya okayed it, telling her to make me pretty. She doodled random crap on my torso, but steered clear of my scars for some reason. Then she started kissing me, and licked my belly button. Midoriya must have responded to that, because she apologized in a very ‘not sorry’ tone. I started struggling again, and Kurogiri, fucking, nuzzled my neck.”

Hizashi-kun froze. He had been rubbing his cheek on Shota’s shoulder. Now he looked horrified.

Shota-kun turned to his husband and cupped his face. “It’s okay, now. You’re different. Your touch is good.” He pressed their foreheads together. “I know it’s not very articulate of me but ‘Zashi good.” He nuzzled Hizashi’s neck. “My ‘Zashi.”

It was adorable, and a good sign, that his son could show affection so freely.

“Alright, thank you, I get it, babe. I love you too.”

“Good.” He let go and returned to their half-cuddling position. “Kurogiri egged me on, until I clamed up, refusing to give him what he wanted. Then he slowly caressed down my chest and towards my belt. His hand was practically ripped away when it got too close for Midoriya. He said, ‘Mine’ and Kurogiri asked him if he was ‘Jealous’. Midoriya replied ‘Maybe’ and Kurogiri apologized and called him ‘Love’. Midoriya insisted that he wasn’t upset, stumbling over his words in his haste to reassure him. Kurogiri told him he could be upset. He moved around so he was behind Midoriya. I think he wedged his leg between Midoriya’s, his stance shifted. Midoriya told him to behave and that he’d examine his feelings later. Kurogiri told him he loved him, and Midoriya replied in kind. Then he asked Kurogiri to hold me while he ‘did my back’, and Kurogiri called him love again.”

“It’s more likely the manipulation tactic we think it is,” Inui-kun started, “but it is worth exploring the possibility that Kurogiri is insecure about the relationship for some reason.”

“Izuku is a smart kid, he could be afraid he’ll figure out that they’re using him,” Yagi offered.

“They don’t argue,” Nezu said. “Or rather hadn’t before.”

Inui-kun cocked his head and considered the possibility. “And Midoriya didn’t want to assault Eraserhead in the first place.”

“For someone that didn’t want to, he took his time. First staring at my back, then drawing with that nauseating grape goo. When he was done, he let the girl add more kisses. He stopped her when she started licking my scars. I mouthed off again; Kurogiri said they’d leave me begging. I shouted for Hizashi out of desperation, hoping if the crowd started chanting again, that he’d realize something was up. But Kurogiri’s grip loosened, and I was able to pull the scarf down. Midoriya wrapped my arms with his shadow, but I activated my quirk as he shoved me into the crowd. I saw Kurogiri’s mist start to dissipate but the crowd blocked my line of sight and he warped them out. I made my way to Mic, and he called the cops.” Shota-kun looked contemplative for a moment. “I never did see what Midoriya drew on my back.”

Hizashi-kun stifled a snort. “Wings. Did a decent job given the bulkiness of the roll-ons. Sorry, I –”

Shota-kun turned to Hizashi-kun and pulled him in for a kiss. “It wasn’t,” he pressed their lips together again, “that bad. I wasn’t hurt.” He nosed Hizashi-kun’s headphones out of the way to nibble on his earlobe. “Everything was above the belt. It shouldn’t have affected me so much.”

The gathered pro heroes ignored the display of affection, seeing it as Shota-kun’s way to regain control of the situation.

“Bullshit,” Inui-kun said. “It’s not the touching and playing around that’s damaging. It’s the violation and the lack of agency. Something we’re going to need to teach Izuku. You see it fine in the other direction: he didn’t want it, you didn’t stop, you’re the bad guy. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t get hurt and wasn’t in any real danger. Same thing.”

“Except Sho was definitely in danger,” Hizashi-kun added, pulling his husband into his chest.

“‘m fine.”

“I need cuddles,” Hizashi-kun replied.

“It is difficult to reconcile Izuku and Stray,” Yagi said. He shook his head. “The boy is warm and bright, always putting others first. It’s hard to fathom. He risked everything to save my life on I-island.”

“It’s exactly what they are taking advantage of,” Nezu replied. “An emotional connection with Kurogiri, likely a protective role towards Shigaraki, and gratitude for the quirks from All for One; everything the boy has ever wanted: love, acceptance, and the chance to be a hero.”

“He did stay by Shigaraki the entire time at the USJ,” Shota-kun agreed. “Even though they had that thing.”

Hizashi-kun tightened his hold on Shota-kun, almost pulling him into his lap. “Babe.”

“I’m okay.”

“If we examine Stray as a separate entity,” Matsushita asked, “What does that read like?”

“He wasn’t used to real combat. He froze when I canceled his quirk at the USJ.”

“He moved Shigaraki away from All Might’s attack,” Nezu added. “He overestimated his strength when pinning All Might down for Nomu, but adapted and persevered through an obviously painful injury. The teamwork displayed speaks of way more training then he could have gotten in a year, even with the extra hours gained from not sleeping. Taking young Bakugo hostage was clearly an impulsive, emotionally driven, if effective, move.” He played the clip of Stray grabbing Bakugo off of Kurogiri and dragging him across the broken concrete.

“Stray did say,” Yagi spoke up, “that he’d be willing to leave, but Tomura wasn’t done yet.”

The attack against All Might played out on the screen. The three villains coordinated smoothly despite the chaos.

“For his first major engagement, he did well. Stray stayed calm and even called the retreat when our reinforcements arrived.”

“He put Shigaraki’s safety above completing the mission and grabbed Bakugo to protect Kurogiri.”

“Then that is likely his first priority,” Nezu agreed. “Even as a villain he maintains the core of heroics. Rescue takes priority.”

“It seems a cold comfort,” Matsushita said. 

Nezu shook his head. “I was worried that he would be able to compartmentalize enough that he could push past his morals and thrive as a villain. The I-island incident proves that is not the case. And the club incident shows that he still understands right from wrong; even if he caves to peer pressure.”

“That’ll be part of the new sex ed. lessons,” Shota-kun muttered from Hizashi-kun’s chest.

“To add to his profile,” Inui-kun said, “Izuku may have attachment issues due to his quirk, and other factors.”

“His quirk?” Nezu asked.

Inui-kun sighed. “I want him to be able to tell people in his own time. It’s a good way to build trust, but he is in a precarious situation.”

“Doesn’t him hanging out with the League of Villains absolve you of patient confidentiality?” Hizashi-kun asked.

“If it went to court I wouldn’t face any repercussions,” Inui-kun agreed, “but that doesn’t mean I can just tell you everything that goes on in a session. He was very relieved when I informed him that the only thing I would be telling Shota-kun was that he showed up for any mandatory sessions.”

“His compartmentalizing at work,” Shota-kun said.

“In order to keep his trust, I’m going to have to keep things from some of you. Your genuine reactions to hearing it for the first time will be important.”

“So our best avenue into his psyche just dried up,” Matsushita complained.

Inui-kun shook his head. “No, our best avenue into his psyche is just talking to him; how he behaves in class, with his friends, toward us. It’s important to remember that he’s a normal kid, in a bad situation.”

“Yeah, no. Normal kids don’t rip the teeth out of people’s faces with their bare hands.”

“He has gone through a major personality change recently,” Shota-kun said. “Bakugo mentioned that he was like a whole different person; not a spineless weakling anymore.”

Inui-kun nodded. “While he has general anxiety, and feels like he has little to no control in his everyday life, he’s seen big explosive shows of force or aggression have been rewarded with positive results. The phrase ‘explosive’ is key here; this is something that he learned from others responses to Bakugo, not from the League of Villains. He finally has the kind of power Bakugo has had his whole life.” Inui lowered his head, sniffing his chest. “He’ll learn more through observation than direct lessons. He’s used to being ignored, until he’s getting in trouble. And he responds to praise and affection with, enthusiasm to say the least. He genuinely wants to be a hero, protect his allies, and save people.”

“How do we best rescue Izuku Midoriya?” Nezu asked the gathered heroes. The silence he was greeted with was damning. “Unfortunately, the same way any asset is turned. We must take care to build a foundational relationship of love, trust, and respect.”

“There is one other thing before we move on,” Inui-kun said, reluctantly. “Inko is keeping Izuku home for a few days and is allowing him to invite a friend over to keep him company.” He waited to see if the implication sank in.

Nezu’s whiskers twitched almost imperceptibly. “A member of the League of Villains is going to be at their apartment tonight.”

“What?” Yagi said, startled.

“It will either be the shape-shifter or Tomura Shigaraki himself,” Nezu muttered to himself. “Likely the former, young Midoriya would strive to keep both his mother and his charge safe. Introducing them would be the antithesis of that. And with his compartmentalizing, bringing the cores of the two very separate aspects his life together would be nigh unthinkable for him.”

“Unless he had a reason,” Shota-kun interjected. “He is pragmatic and adaptable.”

“There were some inconsistencies in the students’ debriefing, particularly Tokoyami and Shoji,” Nezu said.

“They would have been with him when he took on Moonfish,” Hizashi-kun said.

“And saw Midoriya rip his teeth out,” Matsushita-kun added.

“Shoji gave a brief, and vague, account of the incident,” Inui-kun said ruefully. “A wall of fire separated them from Todoroki. Midoriya took off, fast. They were attacked by Moonfish, who he described as a thing in a bag with blade-like teeth. It cut off one of his duplicated hands. He’s sustained similar injuries at his middle school, so he knew the damage wasn’t permanent.”

Several of the teachers winced at that news.

“Tokoyami stepped in and got Moonfish off of him, but Dark Shadow went out of control. Midoriya returned and distracted Moonfish, with the severed hand. He credits Dark Shadow and Midoriya with knocking Moonfish out. In the police report, he denied knowing how Moonfish lost his teeth; in our session, he was more open. They watch as Midoriya methodically ripped Moonfish’s teeth out. He was in a daze, with Dark Shadow wrapped around him and both saying ‘You’re not allowed to have nice things’. Neither of the boys dared to approach him until both he and Dark Shadow calmed down.”

Nezu pulled up file footage of class 1-C assisting in 1-A’s rescue training. “The two have had odd interactions before.” The clips continued with footage from the special lesson at the beginning of break. Dark Shadow nuzzled his cheek and draped himself around Midoriya’s shoulders. He puffed up and preened any time Midoriya praised him. “There appears to be an odd synergy between the two shadow-based quirks.”

“Fuck,” Shota-kun said, dragging the word out considerable. “They know and they’re not telling us.”

“Give them a little time,” Inui-kun said. “All three of them are going to have at least one more session with me this month. Who knows what we’ll learn by then.”

“In the mean time,” Nezu changed the slide again, this time to a loop of Midoriya in class, “we should move on to the shape shifter. They’re able to disguise themselves as another person, living or dead. It fools both the naked eye and cameras. It lasts for at least six hours. While they are likely older given their ability to fool close friends and possibly family, we aren’t prepared to make the same mistake twice. We estimate their age to be anywhere from fifteen to fifty. They can use the physical mutations of the person they are imitating.” The clip changed to the blue haired girl using her gills to breathe Trion’s water bubble away from her face. “We do not know if they can use emitter or transformation type quirks, but either way they are extremely versatile and dangerous.”

“That gives us a second trainer for Midoriya,” Shota-kun said.

Nezu nodded. “Third and fourth. If not more. All Might handling the strength training, the shape shifter teaching him who knows what, Kurogiri teaching him to fight, what we’ve taught him, and any other trainers they’ve brought in.”

“I don’t think the circle is that big,” Inui-kun said. “Midoriya was worried about his connections with Kuu, Toki, and Hiki. Not any other ‘trainers’. While they may have taken him to other venues to test his skills or for one off lessons, I think that’s it for the core group.”

“Hiki?” Nezu asked.

“Yeah, it’s written with two different kanji for princess.”

“These are nicknames they gave each other?”

“Kuu named Toki, Toki named the younger two.”

“You believe Hiki is on the younger side?”

He nodded. “I believe Midoriya when he says Hiki is only a year older than him.”

“It could be another disguise,” Shota-kun interjected.

“Masks tend to fall off at about three months. She couldn’t keep it up this long.”

Shota nodded. “Another kid.”

“Who named Kuu?” Matsushita-kun asked. “It’s kinda ominous, callin’ someone pain or sufferin’.”

“The kanji means ‘come’ and ‘help someone’, ironically enough,” Inui-kun replied. “Midoriya never said who picked it, so either he chose it himself or All for One picked it out.”

“Female, sixteen or seventeen, not enrolled in school…” Nezu murmured as he updated the slide. He looked up at the group. “They wouldn’t have needed more aliases before Midoriya-kun’s arrival, we cannot rule out that he chose these names himself. Toki for Tomura, Kuu for Kurogiri, Sae for Stray, Hiki for something.”

“The girl does parkour, and taught Midoriya knife fighting and shinobi-ashi – stealth,” Shota-kun said as Nezu began contemplating possible names.

“Where did she learn?” Matsushita-kun asked.

Shota-kun explained, “Midoriya said she’s self taught. He knew a lot of ninja techniques when I stared training him, but not their names.”

Nezu sighed, “At least this narrows down my search.”

“On to the lesson plan?”

“Yes. The current one is fine for the biological aspects, but we will need to add a unit on Blush and similar drugs, and expand the consent unit.”

“I think I can get two units out of it, the standard on with a few changes, like more focus on standing up to peer pressure, and one with more focus on how sex, sexuality, and sexual assault effects us as heroes,” Shota-kun said. “Especially if anyone else wants to share with the students.”

“You’re going to tell them what happened?” Inui-kun asked.

Nezu’s mouth formed a hard line. He had considered this course of action, fifty percent probability before he did his practice run, seventy-five percent after. He could still change his mind.

“Yeah. At least that it happened. I… I’m not sure I could recount it in front of Midoriya; which is why I’d like any other staff members willing to share their stories to do so.”

“Yikes. Yeah, babe, I’ll back you up,” Hizashi-kun said, surprising Yagi and Matsushita-kun. “And while I won’t volunteer Nem, I’m ninety-nine percent sure she will to. Between just being female and her costume I’m sure she has more than enough ‘casual’ assault stories to fill an entire class period.”

The gathered men nodded.

Yagi took a deep steadying breath and said, “I can think of one or two times, when-when I was younger.” He paused. “I’m not sure they count.”

“If you were touched without your consent it counts,” Shota-kun and Inui-kun growled in unison.

Nezu nodded. “Are you going to start with this?”

“No. I’ll start with the biology like usual. It gives them a chance to get the giggles out of their system, to make jokes and be kids. Plus, there will be accusations that I’m giving this lesson just because Midoriya and Todoroki are dating. Thankfully I have Blush to blame, and I’m only moving the lessons up.”

“All right, I need a snack break before we dive into planning in earnest, anyone else?” Nezu asked.

Shota-kun checked his watch. “Hey, Yagi? When was the last time you ate?”

“I, um, I had lunch…”

Nezu narrowed his eyes. “I can and will check the security feed.”

“Lunch Rush made me waffles this morning. I can’t have much, so he put the extra in a little bento. I did have lunch.” He pulled the empty bento box out of his overly large jacket pocket. “See?”

Nezu sniffed the container. “No protein?”

“There were some scrambled eggs, bell pepper sticks, seedless grapes, and melon balls.”

 “Very well. I have a particularly nice cheese we can share.” Nezu smiled up at him.

Chapter 83: Game Night

The rice was already in the steamer, waiting to be turned on. Inko watched as her son deftly cleaned and halved the fresh crab. Then, he fried it with garlic until the crab changed color; her portion was in vegetable oil, and his and Toki’s were in a mix of vegetable and chili oil. He added celery, red onion, and green onion to both pans, red chili flakes, and diced green chilies to the spicy one. The two of them sautéed those until the red onions were translucent before covering them and setting a five-minute timer. The crab was removed from the pans, and the rice started.

Soy sauce, oyster sauce, fish sauce, chili oil (only a little in hers), a bit of sugar, curry powder, potato starch, and coconut milk went into the pans with onions and celery. Inko beat two eggs while the sauce thickened, added them one at a time to the sauce, and stirred until they were cooked. Everything was done by seven fifty, and on the table in warming dishes by eight.

Izuku was bouncing on his toes as he waited for Toki to ring the bell. He was only ten minutes late when he finally did. Izuku opened the door right away. “Hey.” It was a subdued greeting compared to the nervous energy he had been radiating all evening.

“Hey,” Toki replied, just as subdued. Inko was a little taken aback by his age and appearance, even though she had been warned. He was thin and lanky. His shaggy hair was black, as were his eyes. He had a cute little beauty mark just below his mouth, on the right side. He’d tried to hide a couple of scars – one on the left side of his mouth and the other on his right eye – with subtle makeup. He clearly wasn’t used to using, implying that it was for her benefit. His lips were chapped and the skin around his eyes was dry and rough. He was the opposite of Mitsuki, prematurely aged by his quirk.

He was in his early twenties, dressed like a particularly lazy emo teen. Skinny jeans and red high tops were paired with a black hoodie that said ‘Don’t Touch Me’. The few accessories he had were a pair of black framed glasses, oversized headphones, and a black backpack. He had neon-colored band-aids around the tips of his left ring finger and right pinky.

“Come on in,” Izuku said encouragingly. “Dinner is ready. We made spicy crab curry~.”

“You can’t compete with Kuu,” Toki said dismissively. Nevertheless, he came in and toed his shoes off. He slipped into the guest slippers awkwardly. His voice was a bit raspy, and Inko would have feared he was coming down with something if Izuku had reacted to it at all.

“Well, no. He’s been cooking for what, fifteen years? I just started learning this year,” Izuku replied with a warm smile. “Mom, this is Toki. Toki, my mother.”

“Hi, Mama Bear. Uh, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Toki said awkwardly. He gave a wave instead of offering to shake hands or bowing.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” she replied, waving back. Izuku had let her know that Toki’s quirk made him touch adverse. “Would you mind giving me your contact information? And your father’s? I’d love to meet him sometime.”

Toki chuckled nervously. “You would not. He’s… Ah. What’s a nice way to put it?” He glanced at Izuku for help.

“We could get you Kuu’s contact info.” Izuku grinned widely.

“Yeah, that’s nice,” Toki muttered, matching his grin.

“Hmm,” Inko furrowed her brow, “it’s just that I noticed none of you are on Izuku’s phone.”

“Oh, that’s so weird,” Toki replied as they moved into the living room. He set his backpack by the couch.

“I know,” she said, taking a seat at the dining table.

“No.” He shook his head. “I mean hearing someone call Sae… that.”

“His actual name?” Inko asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Toki agreed, sitting next to Izuku.

“This one is for us, it’s properly spicy,” Izuku said, pointing to the larger dish. He opened the rice maker and fluffed the rice before serving everyone. It wasn’t unusual for him to serve the rice, but it felt different with Toki; like Izuku was making an effort to take care of him.

“Is Toki not your name?” Inko asked.

“Ah, nope.”

“I’d like to know your real name.”

“Eh. If that’s a deal breaker, I can leave.” Toki looked down at the crab Izuku was placing on his plate. “I’m sorry you went through all this trouble.” He stood and bowed.

Inko stared at the twenty-year-old. She blinked a few times. “Just like that?”

“I don’t wanna be rude,” Toki rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, “but yeah. I won’t lie to you, but I won’t tell you things I don’t want to either.”

“And why don’t you want to tell me?”

“I don’t know you at all, and I’m not …” allowed he didn’t say. “It’s just policy.”

“Something Kuu makes you do?” she asked as he moved to push his chair back in.

Izuku glanced between them, his lips pursed, and the saddest look in his eyes; as if he knew this wouldn’t work and he didn’t know how to salvage it. Hopeless.

Toki shook his head. “Something my father makes us do.”

“Please sit down, Toki,” Inko said softly. “At least eat dinner. Izuku tells me it’s one of your favorites.”

Toki hesitated but after seeing Izuku’s bright hopeful smile, he sat back down.

Carefully, Inko asked, “Not to be indelicate, but where is your mother in all this?”

Toki shrugged. “I don’t remember her at all.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

“Nah,” he replied, taking a bite of the curry. “It’s okay. It’s always just been my father, the doc, and Kuu.”

“Doc?”

“Dad’s doctor. He’s around enough he’s practically family.” Toki smacked his lips and took another bite of the curry. “Wow. Not bad for your first try. You got the heat right.”

Izuku smiled shyly. “Thanks, I was worried it’d be too oily.”

“Nah, you did good.” Toki patted him on the head like Inko’s brother had done when she was small and tried her best.

Inko smiled softly, the nostalgia reassuring her. There was a certain resemblance, and he was roughly the right age… but no, that would be too much of a coincidence. “Your father’s not well?”

“It’s a chronic illness,” Toki replied, seemingly unconcerned.

“Oh,” Inko said sadly.

“Hey, it’s whatever,” he said softly. “No sense in crying over it, it won’t change anything.”

“That sounds a bit…”

“Callous?” Toki asked while Izuku supplied, “Harsh?”

“Yes,” Inko said to them.

Toki shrugged. “I know Sae cries a lot, but in my family, we just, don’t. You find a solution.”

Inko shared a look with her son. “So, what do you like to do for fun?”

“I’m a video game fan. Mostly RPGs. I play a few casual games and a couple of choice fighting games. I’m not into shooters, most rogue-likes, or stealth games unless the story is really good. Most MMOs aren’t worth the subscription fee.”

“I see. Well, I can’t blame you for that. I don’t know how many hours I’ve logged on Animal Crossing since Izuku got it for me.”

“It is really fun,” Toki agreed. Then he said, “Nine point six five. You can see the time logged for each game on a player’s profile page. You also play Mario Party a lot; six point four hours. Mostly practicing the mini-games, I think. No one else in our circle has really played it yet.”

“Do you want to try it after dinner?”

“Is that your way of letting me know you’re not kicking me out?” Toki asked hopefully.

“I suppose it is,” Inko agreed. “You can’t help how you were raised any more than Izuku can, and if your family can welcome him into your home despite the differences, I should at least give you a fair chance. Shouldn’t I?”

“I appreciate that, Mama Bear.”

“You’re a sweet kid, aren’t you?”

“Uh, no. I self-identify as a belligerent asshole, I’m just on my best behavior for Sae’s sake.”

Izuku smirked and covered his mouth.

Inko gave a small, fond, slightly sad smile. “Well, it looks like you’ll have to keep coming over until you forget the mask and I can see the real you. I’d like to meet the first real friend my son has made, after all.”

Toki made a tiny, strangled gasp. He turned to Izuku. “That is tragic.”

“Quirkless,” Izuku reminded him, waving it off.

Toki snatched his wrist, none too gently. “Irrelevant.”

Izuku turned to face him. “To you,” he replied with a soft smile. Izuku leaned forward and rubbed his forehead on Toki’s shoulder. “You are an asshole and I’m glad.” He looked up at the confused young man and his smile widened. “In addition to all the other trauma, we found out that I have quirk-related pack bonding issues. I produce cat-like pheromones and I can just consciously pick up on people’s pheromones. I’d like to tell the others in my own time, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Toki agreed. “So, what does this mean?”

“Your touch aversion made sure I didn’t get artificially attached to you through scent. But I may need to spend about ten days with minimal physical contact with Hiki and Kuu, to assess them with a clean slate.”

“It can’t matter that much, can it?” Toki asked, his voice full of concern.

“It’s like cats, Toki,” Izuku explained, “one of the ways you get them to stop fighting is to rub their smell on each other, to mark them as colony.”

Toki sat and digested that for a moment. “Guess you’d have to give me the same treatment, then. I mean I live with Kuu. We share the couch, at least. That would mix scents.”

“Oh.” Izuku sat up into his own space with a mournful look on his face. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

Inko bit her lip. “Maybe we can wait on that, until school starts back up at least. You’ve had to adjust to so much recently.”

Izuku nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

As they continued eating, Inko asked Toki a few more questions. “What do you study in college?”

“Ah, No, I was homeschooled. I still study this and that, just whatever is needed for work.”

“Where do you work?”

He shrugged. “My father’s ‘gym’.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“Tokyo mostly but we travel regularly, so I’ve seen most of the country.”

“Where do you see yourself in a couple of years?”

Toki shrugged again. “Same place. Father plans on me taking over the family business when he dies.”

“What are you two going to do tonight?”

“I brought a console and a bunch of two player games, and headsets so we’re not too loud.”

“That’s very considerate of you.”

 

After dinner, Izuku offered to clear the table and to do the dishes, so the pair could talk more.

“That would be wonderful, Izuku,” his mother said. “It’s been such a stressful day, I’ve barely done anything but I’m so drained.”

Tomura cocked his head as if he didn’t understand the offer. “Isn’t that your job?”

“We share chores, rather than assigning them to one person,” Izuku explained as he cleared the table.

“Oh.”

Izuku put the dishes next to the sink as the pair turned to chat with each other. He glanced over his shoulder to check that they were distracted, and slipped Tomura’s spoon into his pocket. Then he went to his room and stashed it in a drawer. He grabbed his DSR off his dresser and all but dashed back to the living room. He tossed it to Tomura. “Could you download the game for me while I do the dishes?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Izuku calmed down at that confirmation that neither of them had noticed anything. He listened to their conversation as he did the dishes.

“Are you coming over again tomorrow or should I expect Hiki?” Inko asked.

Tomura contemplated his answer carefully.

“Mm. Good question. I do have work stuff I need to do, but,” he stretched out the word, “if he invited Hiki, the little adrenaline junkies would wait maybe fifteen minutes before sneaking out to go free running.”

“I have more self control than that,” Izuku grumbled.

“By yourself, yeah,” Tomura agreed. “You stayed grounded for a whole week. But the two of you, that’s another story.” He turned back to Inko. “He invited the friend that would make him stay home, as instructed. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t respect you any more or less than Hiki does. I’m gonna set up shop and camp and game in your living room. It’s my preferred activity.” Toki pulled the backpack closer to him.

“I wouldn’t want you to miss work,” his mother changed the subject.

Izuku returned his attention to scrubbing the dishes, but noticed that his shadow had subconsciously drifted over to check on Tomura when he felt him shrug. He considered withdrawing it, but knowing his friend was safe was very comforting, so he left it and hoped his mother wouldn’t notice.

“Well, if Sae helps me figure out a couple of problems I’ve been mulling over, I could claim tonight as a work night,” he replied with a grin. “He’s good with advertising and social media stuff. I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

“Oh, I used to handle some of that where I worked. Ages and ages ago, before I married Izuku’s father.”

“Really?” Tomura asked. “We do a lot of debunking health, wellness, and workout myths, but people don’t wanna read stuffy essays or articles anymore.”

“You need to make video essays then, and podcasts. If you don’t have someone conventionally attractive, I’d focus on podcasts,” Inko said, slipping into business mode easily after all these years. “Don’t use Izuku or Hiki, underage persons would open up a huge can of worms, not the least of which is the legal issues and getting permission from their parents, both parents, to be exact.”

“Does it make a difference that they’re minors?”

Inko nodded. “Even small companies with positive messages will attract internet trolls; and they will attack anything, say anything. I highly suggest moderating your comments from the start. Depending on your platform, you’ll want to make a fairly tight release schedule. Some value longer weekly uploads, others short daily or twice daily videos. It may benefit you to have two or more content creators working on the same channel, and for the love of all that is holy hire a video editor. I know three basically dedicated employees can sound scary, especially when you’re just starting to build your online brand, but it’s what works. Across platforms, it works.”

“Fuck, Sae,” Tomura called over the back of the couch, “So, Mama Bear’s where you learned all that.”

Izuku laughed. “Yeah, mom’s the best.” He finished the dishes quickly and joined them on the couch.

Once they booted up the game and joined Inko in her lobby, Toki synced the DSRs to the TV so they could have the full screen experience. While picking characters, he noticed that both his mother and Tomura had selected princesses; Peach and Rosalina respectively. He selected Daisy despite her drab color scheme and they picked Toadette for the NPC, to keep the all-girl theme.

They went with ten turns, as none of them had played multiplayer before, and it would let them explore multiple boards in one night. Woody Woods was their first board pick, as they agreed that its basic game play made for a good tutorial. The other five boards that were available all centered on a game play gimmick. There were six unlockable boards, and a wide array of boards available as DLC.

They played four boards before Inko went to bed at ten. She dominated in the mini games, even though she only had about six hours of playtime on them. Her favorite board was the birthday cake-themed one, Tomura seemed to enjoy the Haunted Mansion board, and Izuku loved E. Gadd’s Workshop. The boys only won the team mini games where they were paired together, Skateboard Scamper, and Platform Peril. 

“It’s nice that so much of the DLC is free to download,” Tomura said. “I noticed that most of the games will either have a selection that’s just free, or offer three to five packages of your choice for free.”

“I wish I could get the amiibo boards without buying them,” Inko said as she idly skimmed through the locked boards to see what they could open with their collected stars for tomorrow night. Unfortunately, they either all cost several hundred stars or had special conditions like beating solo mode or playing each mode at least once.

“I’ll gift them to you,” Tomura offered.

Izuku grinned. Tomura was enjoying himself. While he knew that the prices ranged from fifteen hundred to thirty-six thousand yen, he also knew that only the top five (outside of multipacks) went for more than eleven thousand yen. The Mario stuff was mostly in the fifteen hundred to forty-four hundred range.

“That’s so sweet, but they’re too expensive and there are so many, I couldn’t.”

“Eh. The customization of the amiibo boards is worth the cost, and the more you have, the better the value. I’d probably only ever play this with you and Sae, so it saves me memory space for you to have them.”

“That’s practical, I guess,” his mom agreed reluctantly. “Still, it seems like too much.”

Tomura smirked. “I can get them for a steal online, it’s not a problem. Tell you what, I’ll get the basic pack online for cheap, and pick the others up for holidays and such.”

“Okay.” She smiled slyly. “So, when’s your birthday, so I can reciprocate?”

“The fourth of April.”

“Oh, that’s not very auspicious,” she replied solemnly.

“I’m not superstitious,” Tomura informed her.

Izuku wondered if that was his real birthday or if Sensei had picked it out for the symbolism.

“Good,” Inko replied. Still, she planned to send him a good luck charm with his birthday present. Looking at the unlockable characters, she found that those all cost between thirty and fifty stars. The only things they could afford to unlock were music, sounds, or outfits. “So, do we want to save them or spend them?”

“With the boards we’ve got I think unlocking a couple of custom outfits would be neat,” Izuku said.

“Yeah, that would be the most bang for your buck, outside of the taunts.”

“Taunts?” she asked.

“They’re in sounds. You can buy them for any unlocked character. They map to the right trigger and can be used at almost any time. If you time it right, you should be able to mess up somebody’s die roll, or mini game performance.”

“We’ll be getting those last,” she replied dryly.

“You enjoy winning while you can,” Tomura said with a feral grin.

His mom chuckled. “Oh, you. I will enjoy winning forever.”

“So, character outfits?” Izuku said.

“Alright, we have enough for two cheap ones, so you boys pick.”

“You should pick at least one,” Tomura countered, “you’re going to be playing this more than we are.”

“Which means I will have more opportunities to choose.” She smiled warmly at him. “Pick.”

“I mean, the Haunted Mansion Trick or Treat Outfits, it unlocks a special game play mode,” Tomura said, quickly as if he thought she’d change her mind.

His mother silently purchased the custom outfits. “Izuku?”

“Um, the Lab Coats for E. Gadd, please. It doesn’t have a whole new mode but it does change the items available to your character. Plus, the princesses look super cute in the lab coats.”

“Alright,” she replied. “And with that, I’m going to bed. You two have fun tonight. I hope to see you again tomorrow night, Toki,” she said as she stood to excuse herself.

“Goodnight, Mama Bear.”

“Goodnight, mom.”

“Damn, Sae,” Tomura turned to Izuku, “I thought we were toughening you up, turns out Mama Bear is a shark and we’re just polishing her little diamond.”

Izuku chuckled. “Yeah, I had to get it somewhere.”

“You two are sweet,” she said, smiling at the pair.

Izuku watched her until the door was shut, while Tomura set up the console he’d brought. He waited, accepting a controller and headset and agreeing to the first game Tomura offered, for twenty minutes before sending his shadow down the hall and under the door to check on her. His shadow wasn’t articulate enough to check a pulse, but it could feel the shallow steady breathing that indicated sleep.

Satisfied, he retracted his shadow and turned to Tomura. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, uh. Basically, our social media presence, like I did with Mama Bear. You know, just accounting for our circumstances.”

“I was only half listening, but yeah, mom has a degree in business management. It’s not that outdated, and she was really good at it. A couple of times she did freelance work for auntie Mitsuki, which is where I picked up most of my social media knowledge.”

“So, anything specific you’d add to her basic lesson?”

“Let me think about it,” Izuku replied. “I’d have better ideas if I knew what I was working with.”

“The recruits?”

“Yeah. I can’t recommend roles when I know next to nothing about them.”

With that settled, Izuku tried to focus on having fun with Tomura. After all, he only had a few weeks to do so in, and then everything would come crashing down around him. He tried not to think about it, especially during co-op games.

“Is something bugging you? I kinda thought you’d get your ass kicked less.”

Izuku sighed, and then laughed. “God, I wish I could hide things from you.”

“No, you don’t,” Tomura said darkly. “You gotta have someone you can be totally honest with.”

He bit his lip, and decided to try to lie. Only it wasn’t really a lie, it wasn’t what he was fretting about in the moment, but it would be bothering him, if he had the emotional space for it. “I’m getting attached to my classmates and I’d like to stop seeing them get hurt.”

“That…” he almost answered honestly, whether it would have been ‘is impossible to promise’ or ‘can be arranged’ Izuku couldn’t be sure. Instead, he said, “That’s understandable. You worry about everybody; like Mama Bear, I think. It’s cute, how much the two of you are alike.”

They played in a comfortable silence for an hour, before they took a bathroom break and rummaged for snacks.

 

Inko headed to her room and checked her phone before going to bed. She found a worrying number of messages from Izuku’s school check in on them. She made a group chat for them all; titled Izuku Protection Squad.

Toki was well behaved, nothing bad happened, no I don’t think we need to be checked on, thank you for your concern, and goodnight.

Many of them messaged her back asking for more details of some sort, but she was too tired and just sent back, I’ll update you all in the morning.

 

Rei Todoroki tossed and turned in her sleep. Visions of Shoto and a shrilling kettle plagued her. All I can see is his father. You’re guilty too. Crimson hair and turquoise eyes flashed before her eyes; accusatory, fearful, grieving. A mocking smile danced around her mind. He looked so, so much like his father.

Chapter 84: A Night In

Tomoko slowly became aware of her surroundings. The room was dark and quiet. What little she could see was blurry and swimming. Distantly, she could hear the murmur of people, muffled and distorted. She tried to sit up, but her limbs were heavy and rubbery. She couldn’t get herself coordinated. It felt like she was moving in slow motion.

Her whole body ached. Her mind was sluggish. Tomoko tried to center herself by focusing on the Wild, Wild Pussycats, but they weren’t there. She panicked. She searched for Kota. Nothing. An anguished scream clawed its way out of her throat. Her stomach churned and heaved. Strapped down as she was, she was lucky there was nothing to throw up.

Desperately, she changed focus: Kota, Mandalay, Pixie-Bob, Tiger, Eraserhead, Midoriya, the smoky villain, anyone. It was as if she was alone in the universe. No stars were sparkling at the edges of her perception. No one’s condition or weak points filtered across her mind as she scrambled from one potential contact to another.

Even the past knowledge she possessed was lost to her. Tomoko wailed at the gaps in her mind. Kota’s scrapped knees, the slight blindness in Pixie-Bob’s left eye, Mandalay’s migraines, Tiger’s surgery scars, Eraserhead’s …

Gone it was all gone. Inky blackness clouded her vision. The darkness around her swam and then blinked out. Unaware of the world again, Tomoko was not plagued by nightmares. It would have been better for her if she were, for the greatest terror she had ever known enveloped and embraced her now.

Tomoko was truly alone.

 

Hagakure moaned and blinked at the light. Everything was blurry and she could barely move her arms. “Jiro, Aoyama!”

“Call the nurse! She’s waking up!”

“Baby!”

“Mom?” she slurred. “Dad?”

“It’s okay, baby. Everything is okay. You’re safe.”

“Tired.”

“It’s okay. You can rest.”

 

Hizashi had grabbed the DSR that Yagi bought for him, glossy Sunshine Yellow with a matte black logo, the instant he got home. He flopped down on the couch and set up his preferences. His Mii-style avatar had long blonde hair, green eyes, and a little mustache, red-framed glasses, multiple stud earrings, a black jacket, a white tee shirt, grey slacks, and black shoes. It was a fairly accurate representation.

When he booted up Animal Crossing, the imported avatar lost his earrings, and the glasses were frameless, but he was able to upgrade to a messy man-bun, open grey jacket, and maroon vest over a cream button-up. All told, he spent two hours on the two avatars.

“Oh, sweet I pulled bananas on the first try! That’s one of the fruits he didn’t have!” Hizashi exclaimed. “And in a nice-looking town. There’s a large, almost crescent-moon-shaped pond near the middle, and the main river is fed from a pond up on the top with a little island that looks big enough to build a house on.”

Shota looked at the screen. “The little river looks like it comes off a two-tiered waterfall.”

“Yeah, that should look neat.”

It was a box valley with mountains on three sides, but the rivers let out on the east and west sides, breaking them up. The peer was short and next to the small river. The smuggler’s cove was near the top of the screen, but facing the west, Hizashi would need to build stairs or something to get to it. He named his town InAGaddaDaVida.

Shota was snuggled into his chest, dozing lightly. Hizashi gazed lovingly at his tousled hair, gently brushing it out of his eyes. His nostrils flared slightly, matching his slow, even breathing. Warmth spread between them in a quiet moment that seemed all too rare in recent times. Tension eased out of both of them. Shota hummed and sighed contentedly.

Hizashi stretched carefully under his husband. The aches and pains of the last week or so were thankfully dull; less sore and more a gentle reminder that he wasn’t a young man anymore. Still, it was nice to have a moment to decompress. Usually, he’d take a hot soak, maybe a massage. He’d start by setting the lights low, maybe break out the candles, and put on some soft music.

Tonight, though, he was content to lie on the couch and use Sho as a blanket. His weight was a comfort. The smell of his hair, a light chemical scent and sweat, lulled Hizashi into a peaceful daze as he puttered around the game idly completing the tutorial quests.

 

The walls shrunk around him; shadow and thorny vines writhed and flailed around the tiny space. Squeezing, compressing. Blood splattered down his shirt. Pain lanced through his head and shoulder as the villain sliced wildly into his flesh. He couldn’t breathe for all the blood pouring into his lungs.

“Nearly drowned.”

The shouts of the remedial students echoed in his ears, fighting with the low calm tones of the villain and the harsh words of Izuku Midoriya.

“Shut your mouth.”

The crackling energy of the angry class 1-A student blurred with roiling smoke and mist of the attacking villains.

“Electrocuted to the point of your heart stopping.”

Fire and screaming dominated his mind. Blue flames danced across the night sky.

“Burned the skin off your hands.”

Shiozaki, her face slashed open, cut to the bone, and Sato, his neck crushed and purple, lay in hospital beds beside him, a doctor pulled the sheets over each of them.

“Murdered by a god damned psychopath.”

Monama gasped and sat up. He was drenched in sweat. The side of his head ached. He pressed the control on his morphine drip. Slowly, the pain subsided and his breathing evened out.

It was dark and he was glad he hadn’t woken his parents. He reminded himself that he was lucky. He’d lost an earlobe, but the wound to his shoulder was shallow so he hadn’t lost any range of motion. The neck wound had been touch and go in the ambulance. They had to intubate to keep him from drowning in his own blood. The scar there would be minimal, just a thin line at the base of his neck. The surgeons had done a good job.

 

Bakugo stared at the bandages on his hands. He could ignore the throbbing pain. The horror that crept in, in the dead of the night, was that he might not heal properly. If his hands were scarred, he would lose his quirk; or it would be severely limited.

He could wind up like Deku. Useless, worthless, helpless.

Tears poured silently down his cheeks. He was supposed to be the best. “I’m not weak,” he whispered. Tears stung his eyes. He scrubbed the sleeve of his hospital gown over them.

Doing your best is more important than being the best. What was his best without a quirk? He could throw a soft ball about sixty-seven meters; a little over a tenth of how far he could launch it with his quirk. He had barely kept up with Deku when his quirk first developed. He would never be able to compete with him now. Or that half-and-half bastard.

How could he be a hero now?

 

Shota stared at the matte black Dual Screen Retro with mild disdain. He was only setting it up because Hizashi threatened to do it for him if he didn’t. He’d input more information into the DSR than he would have liked, but none of it was sensitive; except his colorblindness. Apparently, the system could be set up where everything displayed to him would look the same to everyone else.

Which meant Hizashi got to see just how few ‘color’ options he had. “No wonder it doesn’t take you long to pick an avatar. Sepia tones or grayscale isn’t much of a choice.”

“I can see blues,” he argued. Shota finalized the messy-haired potato character that many of the system’s games would use. At least that would save time. Then he booted up the much-talked-about Animal Crossing Plus: Retro Paradise. Once more, he was faced with more character creation. Most of his desired traits were converted from the system avatar to the game-specific one automatically. From here, he could modify things, like giving himself cat ears or changing his neutral expression for a happy one.

Naturally, he changed nothing but upgrading his avatar’s shoes to boots. He was satisfied with the semi-chibi character; long messy hair, narrow eyes without whites, a square nose, smirking mouth, thin beard, basic pants, and shirt, all black of course.

The randomly generated village he wound up with was classified as a cove, so he accepted the NPC-generated name Stardust Cove. It was basically square with cliffs blocking the top and right edges, but there was a mostly circular chunk taken out of the lower left making a nice sweeping beach. There were two small ponds and his river system was a windy forked one that started at a high waterfall. He’d only had to regenerate twice to get a fruit that ‘Toki’ didn’t have yet. His color-corrected cherries were black, much to Hizashi’s surprise.

They were worth twice the bells (the in-game currency) as standard. All Shota’s fruit would have this rate hike. It was a hidden exploit. A quick internet search told them that the tree would grow, produce off-colored fruit once, and then produce normal fruit after that. ‘Toki’ would have to keep coming back for the rare fruit; unless he reconfigured the color settings for the whole device. 

 

Tetsutetsu’s whole body ached. The ring of the bullets that ricocheted off his metal back echoed in his ears. His heart raced at every little noise. He could have died. Overwhelming dread crashed over him. His mouth was dry and his chest was tight. He wasn’t sure if the ache in his chest was panic or internal damage. His vision swam and he started to shake. A sob ripped out of his throat. “Mom!”

His mother stirred on the couch. “Tetsu-kun, sweetie, what is it?”

“I…” he sobbed again and she was by his side, gently rubbing circles on his back.

“It’s going to be alright.” Her long lashes brushed his cheek. “Just breathe. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“I wasn’t any use.” He rested his head on her gold-tinted shoulder.

“You protected your friend. You did your best. You’re a student, sweetie. You have three years to become a hero; and you will.” She gently stroked his hair. “It will be okay.”

 

Tomura stretched on the couch, his feet bumping into Izuku’s hip. “Wanna practice Mario Party? It was pretty embarrassing getting owned like that.”

“Wouldn’t that be kind of unfair? Like cheating?”

“Mama Bear practices,” he replied with a shrug. “As long as we don’t go over her practice time it’s fair.”

Izuku nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

They booted up the game and loaded Woody Woods and played twenty turns. Tomura proved to be good at any mini-game with a tilting floor or inverted/scrambled controls while Izuku excelled at games with precise timing. 

 

Honenuki’s tongue kept sliding into the hole where two of his teeth were missing. Because his lips did not cover his teeth, he’d need to go to his dentist to have them regrown. That meant eating a high-calcium diet, on top of foods rich in vitamin K and zinc, to speed up the healing of his bruises.

He idly rubbed cream over his tender ribs. He was lucky; they weren’t broken. He would be fit to fight by the time school started up. His father would make sure of it. He was glad for the support. Whereas other parents would balk and shrink at the idea of their child getting hurt, his father knew that it was inevitable. Therefore, he was prepared for it. All the best care was being taken.

In that vein, he knew he should be sleeping. It was important for the healing process. He just couldn’t. He could see that large, heavy weapon every time he closed his eyes. The crushing pain as it slammed into him. The fear as he sat helpless while Pony’s face was bashed in; the sickening crunch more pronounced in his memory.

He shuddered as he scratched the small mark on his arm where the villain drew his blood. He couldn’t think of any reason they would need it, but at least it wasn’t infected. Not all of the tests had come back, but it was a safe bet he hadn’t contracted anything. Nor were there drugs in his system.

Glad for his father’s thoroughness, and even temper in handling the doctors, Honenuki was confident that he was, or rather would be, physically fit.

Then he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He really should have covered it after the last time. It was temporary. It would be healed. Why did it bother him so much? Everything was fine. It was fine.

His chest tightened again and his breath caught in his throat. He would weather this. He didn’t need to bother anyone. Everything was fine.

Strong warm arms wrapped around him. His head was pressed into his father’s chest. “It’s okay. It’s normal to be scared. I was terrified when I got the call. You don’t have to be strong right now. I’ve got you.”

 

It was late, but Yagi couldn’t sleep anyway. With the possible connection between the League of Villains and his pranksters, neither Aizawa nor detective Tsukauchi was willing to let him stay in a hotel. Yamada had finally talked him into staying in their guest room, at least temporarily. He was staring at the ceiling wondering if Izuku was all right.

Inko had only responded to their check-ins once, at ten as she was going to bed, saying that everything went well and she’d update them further in the morning. He couldn’t text Izuku directly without letting on that Inui-kun had told them about the League of Villains’ visit.

She had assured them that everything was going well, but it was Tomura Shigaraki. In her home, while she slept. Which meant Aizawa-kun was right about Izuku having a reason to invite him in particular. Two students were in danger, likely because they knew his secret.    

But they were keeping that secret. So what did it mean? Were they swayed by Stain’s message? Did Izuku convince them somehow?  What could he have said to them? 

It was as reassuring as it was concerning that he could garner that kind of loyalty. All Might had inspired people, but never their loyalty; except for Mirai-kun. Yagi sighed. He wasn’t going to get any sleep, so he booted up his DSR to see if anyone else was on. He checked Tomura’s profile, something that was going to become a habit. 

He had played two hours of Mario Party Retro Revival, likely with Inko and Izuku. It felt both incongruent with what he knew of Tomura Shigaraki and perfectly in character for Toki. Just like with Izuku and Stray they felt like two different people; a child to save, and a villain to defeat.

He booted up the game and started a solo game on the default board, Woody Woods. He played as Mario because he was usually well-rounded in his side games. It was a fun distraction.

 

Half of his face was covered in bandages. Still, his brother had stayed at the hospital watching videos for hours. Denki smiled at him, still lying on the hospital bed with him. They looked so much alike, even though he was about a foot shorter, that people always mistook them for each other. It was going to be weird to lose that.

So, he was planning to dye his hair when he got out of the hospital. He was leaning toward pink, but he didn’t want to make any rash decisions. White was also a neat option, like actual lightning. Or an electric blue.

The doctors had said that face scars tended to be minimal. It would heal and there was a lot of stuff he could do to help it along. He was lucky he only had second-degree burns. In two weeks, the bandages would come off; in six months, he would know the severity of the scarring for sure. With the right care, it wouldn’t be that bad and they could go away eventually.

Even if they didn’t, he’d get used to it. Denki reached up to scratch at his bandages.

“No,” his brother said groggily. “If it itches, call a nurse, Sparky.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“It will. Beside the worst they can do is tell you no.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He pressed the call button. “I wanna dye my hair.”

“What color are we thinking?”

“I was thinking of it just being me.”

“Oh?” he sounded disappointed. “For that girlfriend of yours?”

“Uh, yea – no.”

“Well, dye’s not permanent, but we gotta wait until the bandages come off.”

“You’re okay with it?”

“You’re at that age, Sparky. I dyed my hair first year, too. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Green goes well with dark purple, but maybe you should pick it out with her.” He paused while the nurse changed Denki’s bandages. “I still wanna be the one that dyes it.”

“Of course. That was always the plan.”

 

Dabi rubbed his thumb across the scratch on his cheek. He flicked a lighter idly in his other hand. His nose was busted and his eye was blackened. There were bruises on his back. They had to replace most of his staples but at least they had been heat resistant. It was going to be expensive to replace them properly.

Shoto’s anguished screams echoed in his ears. He never loved me. I’m just a tool. I hate him. The only thing that matters to him is being a hero! He doesn’t care that she hurt me! She hurt me. She did this! I hate them both! They never gave me a choice! Any choice!

“He doesn’t want to be like Endeavor.”

“Hmm? Do you need something, Dabi? An ice pack?” Magne asked sweetly.

He sneered at her. “Fuck off, bitch.”

“No need to be a dick about it, sweetie,” she replied. “You’re not the only one that got hurt.”

“It’s not that,” he said sullenly. “It’s that damned masterpiece. He’s nothing like I thought he’d be.”

“Masterpiece?” she questioned.

“Shoto Todoroki.”

“Oh,” Magne lit up, “maybe going over his school records would give you some insight? We can hit the school tonight, if you feel up to it.”

“Sure, call Kurogiri.”

 Spinner, who had just changed his own bandages, tossed Magne one of the burner phones. She opted to text, Can you warp some of us to Corusan Middle School?

The reply was a casual warp gate opening up in the middle of the warehouse.

“Who wants to go?”

 “What do we do?” Mustard asked.

“Break in, copy the student records and bring them back here,” she decided. “That way there’s no rush.”

“I’ll go then,” he said stepping over to the gate.

“Me too!” Twice said excitedly. “Forget that, sounds boring.” He bounced through the gate.

Magne turned to Compress. “Can you go with them?”

“But of course, dear lady.”

 

His fingers traced over the eyeholes of the cheap knock-off mask. It was stupid. He didn’t believe in the man’s ideals. He was a deranged, rambling lunatic. But…

But the villain’s words echoed in his mind. “Remember, you are a worthy hero.”

“You don’t get to decide my worth,” Awase growled. The stuffed the mask back into the drawer he had hidden it in.

But… it felt good to be recognized.

 

Izuku watched as Tomura dozed on the couch. He pulled out his phone and searched for DNA tests, and how to submit DNA to the police, again. Glancing at the DSR held loosely in Tomura’s hand, he thought about David Shield. It was a shame he couldn’t ask him, the man had access to so many resources. And he did kinda owe him.

Why not? It wasn’t like his other options were going to pan out, and if he were grasping at straws anyway, he might as well grab them all.

He texted the number he had for Dr. Shield, before thinking to check what time it might be in… wherever I-island was. Hi.

Midoriya, what is it? The reply was surprisingly prompt.

Izuku hesitated. So much was riding on this, and he didn’t know Shield that well. Just that he’d staged a robbery on I-island to help Yagi. I need a favor, but I can’t ask Yagi-san. I don’t know if you can help me, but I’m a bit desperate and you have so many potential connections/resources.

Why can’t you ask Toshi? Shield asked.

It’s sensitive. Izuku reached over and softly stroked Tomura’s hair. He gazed fondly at the older boy. Did Tomura even remember his family? Did they give him up willingly?

Shield shot back, All the more reason to tell him.

I know you’re against keeping secrets from him at this point, but please. If you can help, I’d like to keep it on the down low, at least for now. Okay?

After a pause, he replied, Maybe. What is it?

I need some DNA ran, and compared to missing or dead persons, he sent. Then he added, It would be two samples. If he ran his own as well… he was curious as to the results anyway, and One for All must have messed with his DNA. It was a good way to cover his tracks.

Aren’t you a little young to be running your own investigations?

Yes. Yes I am. That’s one reason I don’t want him to know.

Does it have to do with him?

Izuku paused for a long time. Yes, it did. At least running his own did. He typed. Erased. Typed again. Then erased that and replied with a simple, No.

Who?

That would be telling, he texted cheekily.

Then tell.

A friend of mine.

You need a friend compared to dead people?

He’s adopted.

Izuku.

Some things don’t add up. I’m not looking to cause trouble. If you don’t have time, or it’s against the rules… I just thought, you might help me, after...

Is this blackmail?

What? No! Why would I do that? I’m not going to hurt Yagi-san like that. After a pause, and a defeated sigh at his last chance falling through, Izuku added, If that’s how you feel, just forget about it. I’ll figure something out. Sorry to bother you. He tossed his phone on the coffee table.

“Mmm. I’m awake,” Tomura mumbled.

“Nuh-uh,” Izuku teased. “It’s okay though, you’re here.”

Tomura stretched. “You okay? I mean everything’s been … happening.”

Izuku chuckled. “Yeah, it has. Do you remember anything about, like, before? Before Sensei?”

“Little snippets. Nothing pleasant. I slept on the street and people ignored me. ‘A hero will come do something.’ Pathetic, useless, didn’t even take a lost child to the cops.” He grumbled. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re just a curious little cat. And given the absentee father, I get it. Sensei is all I’ve ever known. Him and Kuu, that’s it.”

“Want something to eat?”

“Nah. Can you make coffee though?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

While he was fixing them each a cup, Izuku’s phone chimed, Tomura ignored it in favor of playing Animal Crossing. Tomura drank his black, and while Izuku forgot to add sugar to his, he enjoyed it with just a splash of milk. The rich cream countering the slight bitterness perfectly.

Izuku was hesitant to look at the new message, especially with Tomura awake and aware, but eventually he couldn’t stop himself.

Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It was a bad joke. I’ll run your DNA. I just need some basic info. Whose DNA is it? How old are they? Where/when is the missing/dead person you want them compared to? The more information you can give me, the easier it will be to get results.

I can’t give you names. One is around twenty, the other maybe fifteen. No precise location, Tokyo or Mustafa to start, I guess. About fifteen years ago.

Why can’t you tell Toshi about this?

Izuku took his time composing a reasonable response. He might overreact, I’m just looking for information right now. After another long pause, he added, It’s one of the people that helped me prepare for Yuuei. It’s an unofficial rehabilitation program for minors. Toki’s age out, kinda. He helps out now. The last thing they need is press.

We shouldn’t keep secrets from him.

I know.

I’ll send a drone to collect the samples when you get them. Be aware that it will be searched upon return.

Good to know. And thank you.

  

Scrape. Rip. Tear. Jagged pain shot across her face. Shiozaki sat bolt upright, her vines writhing and lashing out. The walls were covered in deep grooves from her vines. The furniture was in tatters.

Doctors and nurses scrambled to calm her.

He had dragged the dull jagged blade diagonally from her right temple across her nose to her left cheek. He would pay for his sins. “He will pay!”

“Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing,” her mother recited. “Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else.”

Her father wound his vines with hers. “She’s a hero, dear. She’ll do the right thing, but it’s understandable that she’s angry.” He rubbed soothing circles on her back with his vines. “Do take a breath, though, dear. The structure of this building can only handle so much.” He chuckled.

 

Yagi came out of the guest room and moved from area rug to area rug as he navigated through the place, never stopping on the cold floor.

“You should get house slippers,” Hizashi said, looking up from his starting quest.

“It’s hard to find them in my size,” Yagi replied, ruefully.

Shota nodded from Hizashi’s lap. “I know the feeling, I’ve got wide feet. Boots and shoes aren’t a problem but I have to buy oversized slippers. You’d need thirty-threes, thirty-fours?”

“Thirty-seven and a half,” Yagi said abashedly.

“We’ll keep a lookout,” Shota reassured him. “You deserve to be comfortable in your home.”

“Ah, I appreciate the sentiment, but I am just an unwanted house guest.”

“Oh, you are very wanted,” Hizashi all but purred.

Yagi turned to stare at him. “I, um. That’s flattering, but. But you can’t be serious.”

“He is,” Shota said, perhaps a little defensively, or maybe he was still coming down from the adrenaline from the night before. “You’d be staying with Tsukauchi if we weren’t.”

“Aizawa-kun…”

“Too much?”

“I … after what happened…”

“You can’t forgive me for hurting Midoriya.”

“You were right.”

“No, I wasn’t. Just because Midoriya is Stray doesn’t justify my behavior.”

“And that doesn’t make how I treated you okay.”

Shota shrugged. “You were angry, sure, but you didn’t do anything. Gave me the silent treatment. Not even that really. You were brusque, curt, and short with me. You do realize that that is like fifty percent of my personality, right?”

“Aizawa-kun…”

“No, just… Ah. None of us saw it, Yagi-san,” Hizashi soothed.

“Aizawa did.”

“Because I literally see it. I would never have pegged Midoriya as Stray otherwise. He doesn’t fit the profile we had.”

“But he fits now.”

“No, not really. If the police profiled Stray, they’d come up with the same well-trained twenty-something we did.” Shota was silent for a while. “What are we missing?”

Yagi continued to the kitchen. “I wish I knew.”

 

Kendo pretended to still be asleep as her mother held her hand in the early morning light. She ran her fingers over the bandage of the gunshot wound. The bandage on her neck was larger than necessary, due to the awkward area.

“Why can’t you want something normal? A husband? A family? Why do you have to follow your father? Can’t you just be my little girl?”

“I know it was scary,” Kendo replied. Her voice was still a bit rough from being choked. “I was scared too, but this has been my dream since I was little. I’m going to be a hero.”

Her mother sighed and shook her head. “Your father would be proud, but remember that he was an idiot. I expect you to be smarter than him.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kendo broke into a cough.

Her mother handed her a cup of ice water. “Don’t strain yourself.”

                  

A text alert blooped on his phone as Yagi finished the breakfast dishes.

It was from Dave. Call me when you get this.

Yagi was a little flustered that Dave answered on the first ring. “Hey, Dave, what’s up?” he asked casually drying his hands.

“Hey, Toshi.” Dave paused for a moment. “I need to talk to you. Um. It’s about Izuku. Well, there are two things we need to talk about, and it wouldn’t be fair to talk about his secrets and not mine. Shit. I can’t do this over the phone. Can you come back to the island?”

“Of course, Dave. It’s nothing too serious, I hope?” Yagi asked knowing that it was.

“It, it could – it is. I’m so sorry. I swear I’ll explain everything when you get here. There’ll be an invitation waiting when you send the flight plan.”

“Dave, is this about the incident? Because I know th–”

“You do?” David whispered. “And, and you still called. Toshi, can you ever forgive me?”

“Uh,” Yagi paused. “Keeping something like this from me is… You’re not the only one that needs to confess. Would it be alright if I brought Izuku and his mother?”

“Yes, yes, absolutely. Actually, that will make some things easier. I’ll let Izuku know I’ve canceled the drone and arranged for an alternate pickup.”

“Drone?” Yagi was confused now.

“Ah, the thing about Izuku, he’s looking into something, I don’t really know what yet, but he doesn’t want you to know about it. I can’t keep secrets from you, Toshi, not after… When do you think you can get here?”

“I’m not sure, I have to ask Inko. I’ll call her this afternoon.” Yagi kept his breathing even. He was glad that he’d played it close to the vest. The I-island incident secret wasn’t about Izuku. Then what was it? And what was Izuku ‘looking into’? He and Dave talked for a few hours without addressing any of his questions.

 

Pony’s face hurt. Her head hurt. Her body hurt. Mostly her pride hurt. That villain was just a brute. She and Honenuki should not have had that much difficulty with him… her? Them.

It was humiliating.

She tried to still her mind as specks of dust danced in the shaft of early morning sunlight that slanted through the window. Her teacher had stayed with her for the last few days, as she had no family in Japan. The dappled sun was shining on his strong jaw. In a half hour, it would reach his eyes, waking him. The light bathed the otherwise cold and sterile hospital room in a warm golden glow. It filled her with new hopes and aspirations.

 

Inko yawned and stretched. She got dressed in a sleeveless white button-up and jean capris. She had a cute pair of strappy sandals in the shoe caddy she could pair with the outfit. Inko put her hair up in a messy bun with a pale yellow scrunchie. 

The boys were nestled together on the couch; Toki’s head lulled back to watch her as she entered the living room. 

“Good morning,” she said softly.

“Mmm. Morning,” he rasped. “I guess I should get going, then.”

“No,” Inko replied. “I was thinking of making pancakes for breakfast.”

Toki perked up at that. 

Izuku looked up from his DSR, as well. “We haven’t had them in a while. It’d be a nice treat.”

“While I cook, would the two of you mind popping down to the market for some fresh berries?”

“We would love to, Mama Bear,” Toki replied, standing up. “Come on, Sae. I’m buying, so I can get whatever I want.”

“I didn’t know you were so into berries,” Izuku said, also stretching. 

“Peaches, melons, and blueberries are in season, but if they have raspberries I want some.”

“Oh, you like tart berries,” Inko said with a smile. “Do you like to sweeten them?” 

Toki shrugged. “Sometimes. I don’t eat a lot of sweets. I wouldn’t say no to a drizzle of honey.” He tugged his hoodie on. “Let’s go, Str– Sae.”

Izuku chuckled, nervously. “Yeah, yeah. Do we need anything else while we’re out, mom?”

“Cabbage and tofu for lunch?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Chapter 85: A Restful Day

Kurogiri huffed at his phone. The recruits wanted to go out and play. He couldn’t see a reason not to let them; they were mostly unharmed and his were the most grievous injuries. He opened a warp gate at their location, sending them to Corusan Middle School to collect records.

He gathered his supplies and headed to the bathroom. His warp gates made bandaging his own wounds much easier, while his mist made checking them more difficult. With a sigh, he ran his hands over his scratches and scrapes. His injuries were largely superficial – the collar had done its job – but his ribs were still tender.

There was a soft, almost timid knock at the door. “Do you need help?”

He cocked his head. He didn’t need help, but… “I would appreciate it.”

The door was thrown open and Toga sauntered in wearing a short pink-checkered dress, a light tan cardigan, and white knee high socks. She guided him to sit on the shower bench. She searched his form for each bandage; gentle removing them one at a time. Kurogiri hissed as she licked his wounds. He was patient with her, despite the slow progress of changing his bandages. She slathered on a cheap antibiotic ointment and covered each injury in gauze bandages and too much tape.

He nuzzled her hair when it came into reach. “Sweetheart, you are so good to me.”

Toga giggled. “I wish I could see you better, all beat up like this. It’s such a shame.”

“I know; it would be nice to be able to shut off my mist. It would make for a wonderful disguise.”

“I wonder if you bruise easily.”

“Not easily, but the few pictures we took, it is very vibrant. I run pale due to the lack of sun.”

Toga nipped at his shoulder. “Sounds pretty.”

“You know you don’t have to force yourself, right?” Kurogiri asked. “I’m well aware; I’m not your type. I do appreciate you tolerating me for Stray’s sake.”

Toga looked up at him and blinked. She pressed a strip of tape over a bandage, hard. Kurogiri yelped. “That’s a fucked up thing to say. It’s a fucked up thing to think, Kurogiri.” She stood up and stormed out of the bathroom. Tears stung her eyes as she looked around the apartment for a place to be alone. “Stupid.”

He followed her. “I’m sorry. I… maybe I have a concussion?”

Toga gave a hard laugh. “Maybe you just don’t love me.” She shifted into Stray’s lithe form. “Is this better?”

Hearing her harsh tone in his gentle voice sent a pang of guilt through Kurogiri. “I am sorry. I, I do care about you, Himiko. It’s just. You never seem interested in being intimate with me.”

“We fool around all the time,” she snapped, stomping her foot.

“That is not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, Sweetheart. Sex is just sex. Intimacy is trust and love.”

“You just wanna tie me up.”

“Never without your enthusiastic consent.”

She snorted. “What’s the difference?”

“I’m guessing boys, and men, have talked you into things in the past. Things you didn’t really want to do. They didn’t have your consent, not really.” Kurogiri leaned close to her, his mist barely tickling her cheek. “I want the idea of me touching you to excite you. I want you to crave my caress. I want you to ask, beg, demand I touch you.” He pressed his lips to her ear. “And I want you to be Himiko while you do it. I want you to pull me closer, not push me away.”

“I can’t.” Toga sobbed as she dropped Stray’s form. “I can’t be Himiko. I hate her.” She clutched at her stomach. “Hate her, hate her, hate her.”

“Oh, Sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around her, stilling her hands. “I am so, so sorry. Hiki, then. Can you be her, for now? Until we get you a proper name.”

Toga took a ragged breath. “A proper name?” she echoed.

“Like Stray, Kurogiri, or Tomura; something befitting of the beautiful villain you are.”

She nodded. “Hiki. I’m Hiki. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I look forward to meeting you as well.” He leaned down and kissed her. It was slow and deep and ignited a fire in both of them.

Toga broke away for air and began peppering Kurogiri’s neck with kisses, licks, and light nips. Her hips bucked grinding against Kurogiri’s thigh, eliciting a dark, earthy chuckle from him. She gasped as he lifted her in strong arms. He warped them into the bedroom.

Toga was laid down on the deep red comforter. Kurogiri leaned down, his hands caressing her shoulders and arms. Their lips met, and her tongue slid against his. Kurogiri groaned as he pulled away and trailed kisses down her neck. Tiny pecks rained down over her shoulders. Lingering love bites followed the curve of her breasts beneath her little pink dress. He licked across her abdomen; nosing her belly button until, with a giggle, she pushed him down farther.

 His cheek caressed her thigh. His mist tickled her soft flesh. “So beautiful.”

“Stop. I’m not Stray.”

“I mean it. You are beautiful. But if you’d rather I talk dirty…” he let the word linger between them as he idly rubbed his face against her leg. “What does my little slut want, hmm?”

“Everything.”

Kurogiri laughed, warmly and genuinely. “If you insist.” He laved his tongue up her thigh. Teasing and tasting her soft, pale skin. Feather-light licks tickled up to the palest pink panties. “I want to taste you.”

Toga smirked as she realized that he was waiting for a reply. She made him wait. One heartbeat. Two. Seconds ticked by. Kurogiri nuzzled the edge of her underwear. Toga bit her lip. “Yes.”

He pressed a kiss to her pussy. After sliding her panties off, Kurogiri settled between her legs again. With a groan, he began kissing his way from her knee to her crotch. “I want to make you scream; to beg me to stop. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes.”

“Safeword?”

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

“But I am going to push your boundaries.”

“Can it just be ‘Stop’?”

“For now,” he agreed. He nuzzled her thigh. He gently started licking. Slow, languid swipes, just exploring with his tongue. He drew circles with his tongue, over and over, barely grazing her clit. Soft mewling became sharp gasps as he finally gave in. Kurogiri hummed as he pressed his tongue against her clit. “You taste so good. I’m going to make you cum so hard.”

Toga gripped his hair as he flicked his tongue against her. “More.” She moaned lowly, her hand tangling in Kurogiri’s hair. As he licked over her slit, she arched her back, canting her hips into the feeling. She gasped out, “Right there. Just like that.” Kurogiri gripped her thighs, distractedly massaging the muscles. He hummed again and she ground into his face, moaning, “Don’t stop.”

She pressed a palm over her mouth forgetting that they had the apartment to themselves. Toga muffled her moans into her hand as she felt herself get closer to the edge. Kurogiri reached up and pulled her hand away. “Let me hear you.”

Her whole body trembled as she came. Kurogiri continued his ministrations, drawing out her orgasm. Her gasps and moans filled his ears like a symphony. When she settled, panting heavily, he chuckled. He alternated between long laps and rapid flicks until she shoved his head away.

“Mmm,” he licked his lips, “thought we agreed on ‘stop’.”

Panting, Toga raised a middle finger at him.

“You are in no condition to make that offer.” He warped a warm washcloth into his hand as he sat up. “If you have a hard time using your words, there are other methods.” Kurogiri cleaned her up and retrieved a pair of sleep pants and a tee shirt for her.

“Your turn,” Toga said, patting the bed next to her.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You don’t like being touched?”

“I love being touched,” he corrected. “It’s just not necessary for you to get me off.”

“Did you already?”

“No.”

“So, none of that turned you on?” she pouted.

Kurogiri cocked his head. “It did.”

“Prove it.”

He captured her slender wrist and guided her hand to his crotch.

Toga gave an appreciative squeak and cupped him gently. She fluttered her lashed at him. “Please?”

“I’d prefer to take care of this myself while watching you,” he said.

“Please?”

He trailed a hand down his torso. “Hmm. The begging is nice. Keep talking, sweetheart.” His mist seemed to spread out more than usual as he fondled himself. The languid motion of his arm matched his smooth and steady breathing.

“I want to taste you,” Toga said sitting up. “To feel you hit the back of my throat.” She knelt on the bed in front of him. “Feel you on top of me.” She ran her hands over his chest. “In me.”

He whined like he was biting his lip, his composure slipping just a little. “You’re teasing me, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

“I want to feel your cum on my breasts,” she whispered into his ear, pushing her dress down.

His movement and breath sped up. Kurogiri covered his mouth and Toga reached up and pushed it away. “I want to hear you,” she told him. She held his wrist tightly.

He moaned, low and guttural. “Sweetheart, yes.”

“Just… like… that.” She licked his neck, collarbone, and pecs. Releasing his arm, she settled down low, nipping at his hips.

Kurogiri pulled her close, one hand tangling in her hair. His cock rubbed between her pert breasts. “Please,” he gasped his hips jerking against her.

“I love how your hands feel on me,” Toga said. “Fuck me just like that. You know just what I want.”

He held her close enough that she couldn’t take advantage of his increasing distraction and tilt her head down. He thrust against her soft skin, moaning and whimpering. He clutched her close as he became completely undone. His hips shook erratically as he came.

Panting, he released her and absently retrieved a clean washcloth. Toga took it from him as he all but collapsed onto the bed. “Do you prep these ahead of time?”

“Mmm. Mm-hm.”

“How do you keep them warm?” she asked wiping her chest.

“Tupperware in the medicine cabinet,” he explained.

Toga ran her hand down his chest. He gasped as she trailed her fingers over his sensitive member. She caught his eyes before leaning down and licking up the length. Smirking, she returned to cleaning the mess.

 

Tomura left Stray’s apartment with a bento that Mama Bear had made for him. It was clearly a little bit of domestic revenge. Kurogiri was always sending Stray home with food. While he didn’t delude himself into thinking she’d ever approve of Kurogiri, she probably wouldn’t be a bad mother-in-law to have. Seducing her underage son into a life of crime was likely more than even Mama Bear could forgive.

He chuckled as he strolled towards the pickup point. He didn’t think he was being followed, but it was better to be safe. He sat on a park bench and tilted his head back. Sensei would likely have a fit if he knew he was being this vulnerable in public. Tomura closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm mid-morning sun.

Kids were playing in a nearby fountain, a small permanent stall was doing a brisk trade in ice cream and other frozen treats, and middle-aged housewives were hurrying along the sidewalk, trying to finish their morning walk before it got too hot. The warmth lulled Tomura to sleep. He knew it wasn’t good for his neck, but he was tired and a nap was the perfect way to make sure he wasn’t followed by heroes.

 

Toga leaned against him on the couch. Her legs were tucked up tight against her body and her head rested on his shoulder. She was still unsure, but a warm bowl of ramen and letting her choose the movies they were binging had calmed her down.

“How do you know if you love someone?”

“When you’re in love with someone – truly in love, whether it’s romantic or platonic – you’ll start to develop strong compassion for them. There’s a powerful urge to be connected to this person and it brings new aspects to your relationship; a desire to know everything about them, and be known by them in return.”

“Do you wanna be known by me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Do you want me to call you daddy?”

He made a so-so gesture. “It’s not a specific kink I have.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Then we won’t do it. It’s as simple as that.”

“You say things like that all the time. Are you really that laid back?”

“No. Not at all. It’s not laid back for me. I mean it. I want you and Stray to be comfortable with me. That means the two of you have to set and enforce your boundaries. I know it’s not easy. I’ve had plenty of partners over the years who can’t wrap their heads around someone wanting them, actively wanting them, to be comfortable. Not hot and bothered, not madly in love, or obsessed, but comfortable just existing together.”

“What makes you comfortable?”

“Hmm. Cuddling, spending time together,” Kurogiri said. “My love language is primarily touching, but quality time and acts of service are important as well.”

“Love language?”

“How you express love, and how you prefer to receive it.”

“So, like, how I wanna get to know my crush and be like them?”

“I think that would be quality time. It’s more of a framework than a rigid set of rules. We should definitely explore it.”

“So what are my options?”

“Quality time, gifts, acts of service, words of affirmation, and touch.”

“Mostly, my relationships have been,” she paused. “One-sided and shallow. No one’s wanted to get to know me before.”

“We’ll go slow.” Kurogiri nuzzled her hair. “I’ll do anything you want, and nothing you don’t. All you have to do is tell me.”

“Get me another bowl of ramen?”

“As you wish.”

 

Ryo waited. And waited. The clock ticked by slowly. Seven became eight at a snail’s pace. Still, he waited. At nine, nine oh five to be sure, he texted Inko, Good morning! ▽･ｪ･▽ﾉ”

It was unobtrusive, friendly, and cute. He hoped it also invited Inko to tell him how things went.

After some time she texted him back. Good morning, everyone! It went great! Toki is such a sweet boy. I sent him home with a bento. I’m not sure if he’s coming back tonight but he’s certainly welcome to. I would love to have him over any time. It eases my mind having met him.

Oh, good, I’m glad I was worried over nothing.

Well, not nothing. It sounds like Toki’s dad isn’t the best person. I’m going to try to have them all over more, it’s worth the risk of noise complaints.

That’s an excellent idea. Modeling a healthy home environment would be good for them. Ryo slowly began peppering in questions as they continued to text.

 

Shota followed Shigaraki when he finally left Midoriya’s apartment. His hair was dyed darker, but that seemed to be his only attempt at concealing his identity. He walked six blocks to the nearest park as if he knew exactly where he was going. Shota stayed on the rooftops, not wanting to risk being spotted.

He was perplexed when Shigaraki settled on a bench and proceeded to take a nap. He pulled his phone out and zoomed in as much as he could. He sent the picture to Nezu.

Can you get closer?

Not sure.

Don’t risk much.

I won’t.

Shota made his way down the building and across the street. He took several discreet pictures of Shigaraki, without actually entering the park. He also took an abundance of pictures of the Eastern Spot-billed Ducks waddling around. Finally, he entered the small park and passed his target just close enough to see that he was wearing glasses.

After that, he returned to the rooftops. His heart was pounding and his elbow ached. Shota dug into his pocket and took an anxiety pill. Tomura Shigaraki was sleeping on a park bench less than fifteen feet from a group of children.

Eventually, Shigaraki sat up. He looked at his phone. He stood and walked to the ice cream vendor. He bought a light blue popsicle and headed out of the park. It was harder to track him with the afternoon crowds. Shota managed to keep eyes on him for another half hour before he disappeared into a mall.

Damn it, he texted Nezu.

It is not a fruitless endeavor, the dog-bear-mouse soothed. We’ve collected valuable data.

I don’t feel comfortable with him in public. Shota sighed as he sent the message, knowing full well there was nothing they could do about it.

Even a villain needs to do their shopping.

I guess.

Come home.

On my way.

 

Yagi knocked on Izuku’s door at one pm. He fidgeted nervously. Between Izuku being Stray, Dave’s secret, and the prospect of telling him about One for All his emotions were roiling. On top of that, Aizawa and Yamada were still flirting with him.

Inko opened the door. “Yagi-san! What a surprise.”

“Um, yeah, sorry to drop by unannounced.”

“Please, come in.”

“Thank you,” he replied with a bow of his head. He followed Inko to the living room. Izuku was washing the dishes. “So, um. I… Dave invited me back to the island. We didn’t get much time together, what with all the excitement. And, um, would the two of you like to come with me?”

“Oh, I can’t tonight; I have a lunch date tomorrow.”

“Mom,” Izuku said with a laugh. “When were you thinking of going?”

“I let Dave know I’d be asking the two of you, so we haven’t set a date.”

“How long?” Inko asked.

“A week,” Yagi said sheepishly. He twisted one of his bangs between his fingers.

Izuku grinned. “I don’t have any plans next week.”

“That’s a little short notice,” Inko said.

Izuku shrugged. “It’s way more notice than last time.”

“What about your responsibilities at the gym?”

“I can talk to Toki about it tonight. They’re pretty chill about, well, everything.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that,” Yagi said. “If you need to give more notice…”

“I mean, it should be fine, but yeah I’ll ask if they want more notice.”

“I’ll have to figure out what to pack,” Inko said, a bit of excitement creeping into her voice. “Oh, Izuku, if you and Toki need to go to the gym tonight to talk to his father, that’s okay.”

“Yeah, I think that might smooth things with him. I mean if he’s ruffled at all.”

Yagi hesitated for a moment then asked, “Would you like me to help with him?”

A burble of laughter escaped Izuku. “I appreciate the offer, but really, it’s not necessary. He’s reasonable if you know how to approach him.” 

“I’m here whenever you need me. For anything.”

The teen smiled ruefully. “I know.”

 

Tomura made a beeline for the game store. He hated malls, but it was the best place to pick up the basic Mario amiibos. The Mario Party four-pack came with Mario, Luigi, Peach, and Toad, but he ended up finding the Princesses in one three-pack and Mario, Luigi, and Yoshi in another.

After digging around he found a set with Toad, Toadette, and Toadsworth stashed in the back of a bunch of random fighting game characters. On a whim, he also grabbed a Wario and Waluigi two-pack that was a return. It was a gamble that they’d both work properly but they were ‘like new’ and twenty-five percent cheaper. 

He knew Mama Bear wouldn’t accept all of them at once, but it was too good a start to pass up.

At the counter, the cashier told him, “If you spend fifteen thousand yen on amiibos, you get –”

“Yeah, yeah. The premium gold set. Don’t try to upsell me. Those things don’t add anything that the base models don’t already have. Just ring me up,” he interrupted grumpily.

“Right. Sorry.”

Tomura sighed. “Don’t be sorry. It’s your job. Technically I’m pissed at corporate for making you try to upsell, not you for keeping your job.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“You’re gratitude is unnecessary but not unwelcome.” He paid for his purchase and left the mall.

        

Hiki was with Toki when he arrived at the apartment, promptly at eight. She looked like she could be Toki’s younger sister. They had the same black hair and dark soulful eyes. Hiki’s hair was in a loose French braid that ended in a messy ponytail. She had a bright smile, and her canines were prominent and pointed. She was quite pretty, with an underlying, almost feline quality. Inko supposed she just had cats on the brain since Izuku’s new diagnosis.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Inko replied. “Please, come in.”

“Thanks for putting up with us,” Toki said.

“It’s our pleasure,” she assured him. She turned to Hiki. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” the girl chirped happily. She gave a little gasp as she spotted the necklace Inko was wearing. “Ooh, do you like it?”

“Very much. I rarely leave the house without it, and I always take it when I’m going out alone. It was very thoughtful of you,” Inko replied.

“Your timing is perfect,” Izuku called from the kitchen. “Dinner just came off the stove.”

Toki led Hiki into the living room. “What did you make this time?”

“Ramen. Toppings are on the table.” After everyone was settled and dished up, Izuku took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “So, I wanted to take care of a little business so we could just enjoy our evening,” Izuku said. “Yagi invited Mom and me back to the island for a week. He didn’t get much time to spend with Professor Shield, due to events. And I know it’s a lot of time off all at once, but it is break. It’s like the only time I could go.”

Toki chuckled. “At least they gave you some warning this time.”

“The boss man is not going to like this.”

“Eh, I can handle him, and it’s not like we can reasonably tell his mother ‘No, he can’t go with you’. When exactly is this trip?” Toki asked.

“Tentatively next week, but we could reschedule it if we need to. I know August is pretty busy at the gym.”

“Mmm. I think the week after would go down better. I wanna introduce you to the newbies, and it would give us a chance to implement the social media stuff before you go.”

“Yeah, totally. I’m sure Yagi won’t mind.”

“Now that that’s handled,” Hiki said, “let’s dig in. Thank you for the food!”

Chapter 86: Search

After playing Mario Party with his mother until ten pm, the trio headed off through the park and into the city. They walked to the beach, and Tomura texted Kurogiri to pick them up at the bottom of the stairs after they were sure they weren’t being followed.

Instead of the bar, Izuku found himself in the lab. After a moment of disorientation, he realized that Tomura wanted to give Sensei as much advanced notice as possible.

Sensei was sitting on his hospital bed in an open white button-up and slacks. It was the first time Izuku had seen him without a suit jacket or shoes. He was hooked up to his ventilator and a heart monitor. Dr. Ujiko was sitting in front of the computer, presumably compiling data about Sensei’s condition.

Toga hid behind Kurogiri, who had settled into a corner, as though he had gone on standby. Tomura glanced at him in a way that made Izuku question if being here had been Tomura’s decision.

Izuku moved closer to Tomura, unease apparent in both of them.

“Tomura? Is something the matter? You usually don’t drop by unannounced.” There was tension in Sensei’s voice that Izuku hoped was caused by being caught in a vulnerable state.

“Sorry about that,” he said softly. Tomura scratched the back of his head nervously. “It’s just, I know you’d want to be informed right away. Stray was invited back to I-island. But, uh, this time we can adjust the schedule, as long as it’s before his school starts back up.”

“And we don’t think this is a trap?” Sensei leaned forward and rested his chin in his hand. He tapped his index finger against his cheek.

“No?” Tomura said, hesitantly. “I don’t think they’d risk the research facility. Plus, his mom was invited too, this time.”

“Hmm. Logically reasoned.” Sensei nodded. “I do have a gift for Stray. I had wanted him to be able to adjust to it before school started, but if he must leave us again…”

“He’ll adapt. It’s what he does,” Tomura assured him.

“I hope so,” Sensei replied. His tone would have sounded pleased coming from anyone else, but it sent shivers down Izuku’s spine. “If he’s going, then I’d like to give him his gift as soon as possible.”

“I did want to introduce him to the recruits tonight, but that can wait. This is more important.” Tomura half turned to Kurogiri. “Send Toga home, we might be a while.”

“As you wish.”

Sensei chuckled. “Now, Stray, come here. Sit with me.”

He hesitated, but went and perched on the edge of the bed.

“What do you think I got for you, child?” Sensei petted Izuku’s hair tenderly.

Izuku had never felt more threatened in his life. He swallowed, then took a deep breath. “A quirk? No, you meant more specifically. Um. Fuck. Okay. I’ve been unavailable lately. I didn’t like Tomura being in combat without me. You could definitely predict that. So… transport, cloning, or monitoring…” Izuku trailed off as it hit him. “Oh, God.”

“Hmm? Do you have a guess?” Sensei’s voice was thick with both delight and contempt.

Izuku, drained of color, looked helplessly to Tomura, whose expression was grim but not surprised, and then desperately to Kurogiri, who seemed disturbingly unfazed. “Ragdoll’s Search.”

“Oh, you are a clever boy.”

“Thank you, Sensei,” he said numbly. “Is… she okay?”

“Does that matter to you?”

Izuku swallowed. “It wouldn’t change anything. I will always protect Tomura. But, I think I’d feel better if she were unharmed.”

“She would not extend the courtesy.”

“I know, but… if we’re going to break hero society apart and rebuild it, we should have some ideals to guide us. Is compassion so bad?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t suggest mercy,” Sensei replied, leaning close to Izuku.

“Mercy offers no tactical advantage. Compassion can be leveraged to sway public opinion.”

“There’s my clever boy again.”

Izuku stiffened. His heart pounded in his chest, but his voice came out steady. “I appreciate the compliment, Sensei, but I’m Tomura’s.” Izuku kept his eyes locked on Tomura.

Sensei placed his hands on Izuku’s shoulders, gently massaging the tension there. At first, the touch was light, but he began to add pressure. Tomura took a step forward, and Izuku held up his hand to stop him.

“Stray?”

“It's fine,” he said even as the pressure turned to genuine pain. “It’s natural for him to be upset. You’d be angry too if I flouted your command in favor of Kurogiri.”

Tomura nodded. “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“I’d rather he did, actually.”

Sensei stopped working the muscle and cocked his head.

“What? Why?” Tomura did stride to the bed at that.

Izuku caught his hands as he reached for Sensei, interlacing their fingers. “He probably won’t hurt anyone else after he’s calmed down. He knows from my history with Kacchan that I’ll forgive or ignore it if it’s me. He doesn’t risk anything hurting me. And I’ll heal by morning.”

Tomura started at their hands. He’d peeled the band-aids off while they were walking. “Don’t. Don’t throw yourself away like that. If you’re mine, I should get to decide what happens to you.”

“Tomura,” Kurogiri said warningly.

“Shut up, you fucking nomu.”

“Tomura, don’t be rude,” Sensei said sharply. More calmly, and if he were anyone else, Izuku thought a little hurt, he added, “I would never intentionally hurt any of you. You know that, right?”

“Sorry, Sensei,” Tomura said, sheepishly. “It’s just. Stray is my first minion. I have a hard time sharing. It’s not that I don’t want your advice. Search does sound like a good addition to his loadout, and he should be able to take the strain with no problem, but I’ve asked before if he needs to be disciplined to let me know so I can do it.”

“Can you discipline him, Tomura?” Sensei asked.

Tomura straightened up. “Yeah. If I don’t get it right, I know you’ll teach me. I want his loyalty. I want Stray to be willing to do anything for me. To get that, I can’t compete with you. You already gave him his quirks, Kurogiri trained him to fight so he could get into Yuuei. I have to be able to offer him something. What do I have compared to that? All I can do is destroy things.” Tomura started confidently, but as he continued, he became choked with emotion, and at the end, his voice broke.

Izuku stood up, releasing Tomura’s hands. He hugged him. “Oh, Tomura. Please, I would never betray you. You’re …” He shook his head. “Your quirk matters to me as much as mine does to you. You may be a belligerent asshole, but not to your friends; not to us. You… It’s hard to put into words.” He did not release Tomura but instead leaned up to rest his chin on his shoulder.

Tomura stayed still, as if in shock.

“Okay, hear me out. All Might is like the sun, a shining beacon of light, and other heroes are content to be the moon, merely reflecting a tiny sliver of that light, never producing their own. You produce your own light in the darkest place. It’s strange and like nothing I’ve ever seen before, but it’s magnificent and it spreads by lighting fire in others, not by reflection. I want to be better because you know I can be. You named me twice, and you were right both times. I was lost and alone and in desperate need of affection. But you never just gave it to me, you didn’t lavish me with hollow praise, you made me work for it, earn it. You made me prove my worth, not to you but to myself. I am worthy. I deserve friends and love and a family.” Izuku stood on his toes to pull Tomura in just that tiny bit more. His throat sat snugly against Tomura’s shoulder. “I never tried to better myself. I believed I was a weak, quirkless Deku. Everyone around me seemed to agree: I’d never amount to anything because I don’t have a quirk. But you’ve told me, over and over, that you don’t need my quirks. If you really needed a bodyguard, you could use a nomu. Sensei could bribe, manipulate, or threaten someone for access to Yuuei. If you wanted to get rid of One for All, you could kill me right now. At the bar. While I sleep. It would be easy. If you wanted it for yourself or someone else, you would just tell me. And fuck me if I wouldn’t just give it to you. Even if it meant being quirkless again.”

“Stray!”

“I’m not. I’m not done. Because what you value in me isn’t my quirk. It’s me. My analysis, my planning, my personality, my half-baked ideas born of terror and hysteria. You find value in me even when I’m broken, and it makes me want to put myself back together. Hell, you even give me the gold to repair myself. When I’m terrified of being found out and having to flee, you’re who I imagine running to for safety, for a place to belong, for a new home. Not Sensei, not Kurogiri. You.” 

Tomura wrapped his arms around Izuku and lowered his head to rest on his shoulder. “Stupid Stray. I’m not that special.”

“Of course, you don’t see it; a pickled plum onigiri can’t see its back.”

Tomura laughed, even with tears running down his cheeks. “What the fuck, Stray?”

“I think it’s from Fruits Basket. A person’s admirable qualities are like a pickled plum on a rice ball. The person is the rice ball, and the plum is stuck to their back. You have rice balls made with all sorts of wonderful ingredients, but since they’re stuck in the middle of everyone’s back, someone could have a plum and not even know it. They see themselves and think that they’re plain, nothing but white rice. But really, you turn them around and there’s a plum. It’s easier to see the plum on someone else’s back than your own. You have a great big plum on your back, Tomura.”

“You absolute fucking otaku.”

The pair just quietly held each other after that, as if oblivious to the other occupants in the room. The silence stretched on. Each heartbeat made the pair feel more at ease, with the other three growing tenser.

“Would you kill for him?” Sensei asked quietly.

Izuku released Tomura and turned to face the man. “If I had to, yes. In the heat of the moment, if it meant protecting him, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d throw up and have a breakdown after, for sure. If he pressured me into it, I would bend and break and commit murder for him. It would kill me, but I would do it. But Tomura has made it clear that he doesn’t need me to kill for him, and I trust him not to push me past that boundary until I’m ready.”

Tomura wrapped his arms around Izuku again, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Is he lying?”

“No,” Sensei replied flatly.

“I can tell that without a quirk,” Tomura said, his voice picking up a growl. “I can’t imagine why you’d give up that feeling.”

“Trust is a powerful drug,” Sensei agreed, “but the crash to that high is the inevitable betrayal.”

“He’s not your brother.”

“No, he isn’t. But he is influenced by his quirk, and each quirk in the parasite.”

“The vestiges,” Izuku said.

“You’ve given it a name?” Sensei asked, bemused. 

Izuku nodded. “I’ve only talked to the healing quirk and Shadow Bind but –”

“You’ve talked to them?!” Sensei stood abruptly, his voice a shout. He was racked by a coughing fit. 

While all of the other three occupants in the room rushed to assist him, Izuku was the closest. He braced himself against Sensei’s chest so he didn’t pitch forward. He let the man lean on him while he collected himself. Sensei sat back down on the bed.

“You’re not afraid I’ll take your quirk?”

“Every day. I don’t think proximity makes it any more likely. If you want it, nothing can stop you.”

What Izuku interpreted as a thoughtful look passed over the lower half of Sensei’s face. “I’m not so sure.”

Izuku cocked his head inquisitively but said nothing.

“So you’ve interacted with them?” Sensei gestured for Izuku to explain.

“Uh, yeah. It started with a nightmare after the teachers from Shiketsu. Those two … they made it stop. And again after I-island. Then when I was training with Tiger, I kinda zoned out and saw the healing quirk. He told me to pay attention. I saw others in the distance in the second dream, but they were all hazy and indistinct.”

“Just the second time?” Sensei prompted.

Izuku cocked his head. “I’m not sure it was vestiges the first time, I might be making assumptions. It was a very intense nightmare. We cuddled about it.”

“That was not a group cuddle. Toga and I were drinking; you were dripping snot everywhere.”

“Adorable,” Sensei said sardonically. “You won’t betray my son?”

“Never. He’s mine just as much as I’m his. Whatever label you want to put on it, I love him, in a platonic way.”

“Even though he’s a belligerent asshole?”

“A self-described belligerent asshole.”

Tomura smirked. “Yeah, well, no point in sugar coating things.”

“A teacher’s job is to help his student become independent. I must step aside to allow you to walk the path of a true leader. You have comrades now, and you are learning how to increase their number. I just… It’s difficult to let go when it’s your own child.”

Tomura smiled. “I’ll always be your kid; you and Kurogiri raised me. Nothing can change that. I know it’s hard. It is for me too, but it is time. We both know you can’t let a resource go to waste. Much longer and you’ll let me spoil. I’ll still come to you for advice and stuff. You’re the most valuable resource I have. I will take down Hero Society and step up as the new demon-king of the underworld. For you.”

Sensei nodded. “I would still like to give Stray Search. Is that… acceptable?”

Tomura looked at Izuku. “Do you have any objections?”

Izuku gave it some thought before answering. “No. It’s not safe to give it back to her now that she’s met me; she could know where I was at any time.” After a pause, he added, “While I can’t think of a worse fate than to no longer be useful to her family, I think we should return her, as a show of compassion.”

“Awe,” the other young man rasped his voice barely above a whisper, “I’ll always have a use for you, little brother.”

 

Izuku woke to much less pain and disorientation than the first time. His arm wasn’t even strapped to the bed. While his head pounded, an unavoidable side effect of growing new neural pathways, his vision wasn’t swimming. He tentatively set up. This did intensify the pain, but not passed the point where he could tolerate it.

“C… can I have some water?” he managed to ask, even though his words slurred.

“Of course, Love,” Kurogiri replied.

He was given a small paper cup of ice-cold water. It was fresh and crisp, despite the plasticy undertones.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“Of course,” Kurogiri replied smoothly.

“I know I said some things that might have hurt you. I’m sorry.” Izuku bowed his head.

“You didn’t say anything that was a lie,” he said flatly.

“Doesn’t that make it worse?” Izuku asked.

“You said you love Tomura, platonically. That is more important than my feelings. You understand that.”

“But you still have feelings. And I hurt them.”

“You called Tomura a light in the darkest place, that he inspires you, and you trust him.” Kurogiri’s eyes wavered in a pleased manner. “You are everything you are supposed to be, Love. You have responsibilities to Tomura. You should put him ahead of me. It’s right.”

“But we love each other.”

“And we both love Tomura. Love is not limited to romantic partners. I know you know this.”

“Yeah.” He touched his head. “Here. But I just never needed to know it here,” he moved his hand to his heart, “before. It’s… It’s an adjustment.”

“I… we will be here for you every step of the way.”

“You’re really not mad?”

“No, not mad. It is … vaguely upsetting, perhaps like mild jealousy, but that is eclipsed by how elated I am that you think of Tomura as family and safety.”

“Jealously, huh? I think we can smooth that over in time,” he replied flirtily. “After all, there are things you get that he will never have.”

“Thank god, pervert,” Tomura said from the doorway.

Ujiko bustled in behind him. “Ah, awake so quickly. And in fine spirits I see.” He held up his tablet. “Wiggle your fingers,” he instructed. “Good, good.” He made notes as Izuku obeyed. “Toes. Arms. Legs. Turn your head. Your waist. Your shadow.”

Izuku privately thought that his shadow should be in the ‘wiggle’ category, not the ‘turn’ one. He wiggled it back and forth.

“And finally, activate Search,” Ujiko instructed matter-of-factly.

Izuku was stumped for a moment. Shadow Bind operated like a limb from his perspective, obeying his thoughts and impulses no differently than an arm or leg. One for All was… a formless energy surrounding and inhabiting him, almost like a separate entity that was barely tamed enough to obey his commands. Search, he realized, while concentrating on it, was like a combination of his healing and One for All. It was always there; technically always working in the background, but it could come to the forefront when needed.

He concentrated on Kurogiri. Information flashed across his mind, burning like fire. It changed as he tried to focus on it.

O̶̠̯̦̎̊̍b̷̗̑ͅo̴̘͍̮͐̈́̀͘r̵͍̗̉̃o̸̰̭̓̄̂͜ ̷̦͓͈̈́̋̐͛Ṣ̴̔̐h̶̰̝̏̽ȉ̸̡̜̦͆̾r̵͓͊̓͑̑a̷̧̱͆̌̔̕k̴̛̖̜̝͗̏̄u̴̖̐͋̐m̵̮̓̀̋ŏ̵͖̙̟͋͠, age: s̸̛̫͊ȩ̴̦̈́̓v̴̤̆̉e̶̙̼̐̂n̷͇̏t̴̪̖̃e̶͛͜e̴͓̓̇ṋ̶̨̓,̶̤̺̽ ̷̼̝͗, t̸̩̎͆͗h̷͉̾̏̕i̷̢͛r̶̡̪̽t̵̼̏͗y̸̯̾̕͝, f̵̫̽̎͒ỏ̷̧r̶̟̔̈t̷̪̻͆̚͝y̸̠͎̓-̷̰̳͉̍s̴̜̃ȩ̵̈́̑v̷̨̬͓̏̌̐e̴͓͛n̶̰̪̮͒  Thirty-two, biological sex: male, height: six foot one inch, weight: one hundred forty-five pounds, o̴̭̣͆̆ň̶͕̕͠e̷͈͝ ̵͇͊͒̿h̵̦̬͂͒͜͝u̴̞̫̣̅͋̽ń̵̠͓͂d̷͓̓ŗ̶̲̆̈́̊ẻ̴͎̟͠d̴͙̳́ ̷̗̓ḁ̸̦̖̾n̴͚͝d̵͈̼̱̍ ̵̺͓̈́̃̏f̵̡̬̅̔͝i̶̧̾f̴̥̄̅̃t̷̠̼̗͗͗̄y̷̭̠̦̒ ̵̪̀͑̈́ p̴̪̌̌ͅo̸̙͌̀͜͜ư̵̟͕̻͊̀n̸̢̩̅d̶̙̖͊͆͝ş̸̟̄, blood pressure: one hundred thirty over ninety-two, oxygen saturation: n̸̞̾i̷̙͐ň̶̩e̶͈̽ẗ̴̜y̸̢͠-̵̞̓e̵̖͂i̶͔̋g̴͚̉h̸͔̀t̸̛̟ ̷͙͊p̸̦̍e̶͈͒r̶̩̈c̶̯͛e̷̪̕ǹ̶̘t̴͎͆,̷̧́, pulse: seventy, respiration: twelve, blood sugar: one hundred twenty-five, vitamin deficiencies: vitamin D, Calcium, skin damage: multiple minor lacerations, muscle damage: strain in left calf, right shoulder, and bruising of the abdomen, joint damage: none, bone damage:  ̷̺̍͜s̸̐ͅḱ̷͉͔͂u̴͓̎̐l̷̛̲̤̄l̴̡̻͛̌ ̶̻̔f̶̝̐ṟ̶̤̍̓a̴̪̼͑̐c̶̩̾ṱ̷̑̐u̸̢̝̽r̸̺̲̀͊e̸͔͝,̴̠̊, broken right sixth, seventh, and eighth ribs, left fourth, fifth, and sixth ribs, bruised right fourth, ninth and tenth ribs, left third, seventh, eight, and ninth, bone density: One point one, t̴̛͇̲͕̏̀͝h̴͔͕̯̀̈̿͝r̷̬̂̏͠e̴͙̲̬͈̯͌̈̂͋͗̏e̶̡͉̗̰͇͐̾ͅ, dehydration: none, hunger: none, fatigue: none, Quirk fatigue: minor, m̸̢̑͑o̶̼̿d̴̯̩̆̓e̵̥͑͌r̴̢̝͘͝â̵͇̣ṱ̸̿ẹ̶̢̽͗, Quirk damage: none, s̶̮̆̌̈e̶͚̻͌̔v̸̪̯̪͒e̷̦͎͘ŗ̵̡̙̈́̿̀e̷̘͗̏, Quirk: W̷̞̚a̶͈̓̔r̴̝͖̥̆͝p̴̰̯̂͜ ̷̺̐G̶̲̪̳͛́̓a̵̻͖͋̓͝t̵̙̐͛̒e̸͎̰̓͝ Č̴̞̒̅́l̵̬̠͆̎o̷̲̪͗̃u̶͇̜̭͌̊͐͝d̴̢̲́̌ ̶̬͉͓̘̿–̸̹̂ –Ť̴̜̇ͅè̷̡͍l̸̹̺͔̾͝ȅ̶͈̰ṕ̴̥ö̴̯͉̭́ř̸̩̝t̷̛̠̟̾̀a̵̪̠̽t̵̞͍̩͆̑̉í̸͕͘o̴̰̓̓͂n̷̘̞̱͋̆̕ P̶͈̏̚o̶̫̫̽̓͝r̷̜̱̉t̴̘̺͍̆̒a̴͇͚͕͂̄ļ̷̲̐̕ P̵̮͔͌ṟ̵͔͌é̵̯͛̕v̴̫̄̑͠i̴̱̣̠͆͑͝o̵͈͚̔̈u̵̡̟͎̅s̵̥͚͒͠ ̸̪͎̍̑Ů̸͍̯ș̵̨̌̉e̴͍̯̲̎r̸̢͔̲̚̕͝s̸̢̯̟̑̀͘ O̶̠̯̦̎̊̍b̷̗̑ͅo̴̘͍̮͐̈́̀͘r̵͍̗̉̃o̸̰̭̓̄̂͜ ̷̦͓͈̈́̋̐͛Ṣ̴̔̐h̶̰̝̏̽ȉ̸̡̜̦͆̾r̵͓͊̓͑̑a̷̧̱͆̌̔̕k̴̛̖̜̝͗̏̄u̴̖̐͋̐m̵̮̓̀̋ŏ̵͖̙̟͋͠,Ḩ̶͆͛͗ä̶̤̦̥͂r̸͓̼̣̈́̅u̵̯̓t̴̨̪̹͆ọ̸̥̉͗ ̸͎̇̚S̶̞͔̒e̵̡͌̌͘k̶͎̂̈́i̵̱̜̞̅g̸̢̭̥̔̀ǘ̵͓͒ͅc̶̯̲͖̋͛͝h̵̰͇̬͗͂͘i̸̮̬̾ H̵̟͒͌ä̵͙̗́ͅr̴̗̰̻͋̎͑u̷̮͚̯͌k̷͎̲̀̿͝i̸͍̇ ̸͖̂̑T̷̛̤̬̍ă̸͍̄̈k̶̡̓̂̋ä̷̢̏̏h̴̗̔͊ä̶͔̘́̇s̵̭͙̲͌̌̈h̵͓̯͌͌͝ͅi̴̹̮̋͝

Izuku stopped. He dropped Search and held his head. There was too much information. And it kept changing. Worse, there was already a list. Names tickled the back of his mind just beyond his perception; hundreds, maybe thousands. He felt like he could call them up with Search if he needed to. He forcibly pushed them aside for now. That felt like a rabbit hole he could get lost in forever.

“I won’t help you,” Ragdoll’s voice said harshly.

Izuku closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands as pain spiked through his skull. “That’ll take some getting used to.”

“What is your pain level?” Ujiko asked.

“I don’t know.”

The doctor pulled up a chart on his tablet. “Here. Generally, a three is described as a bee sting or a small cut.”

Izuku read the chart, knowing his healing would mitigate the effects somewhat. “Yeah, I’d say it’s a six right now, I can’t concentrate. I think it would be lower if it weren’t my head. Like a four; I could ignore it if it were an arm or leg.”

“I see. I’ll give you some pain meds. Take them when you need them. They take about twenty minutes to start working. Let me know if you have any side effects or flushing, itchy rashes, blocked or runny nose, or trouble breathing.”

“Uh, sure.” He accepted the bottle. It was a standard orange medicine bottle with a child safety cap. The label looked legitimate as far as Izuku could tell. It said there were sixty twenty-five milligram Tramadol tablets in it. “You sure about this?”

“You are a responsible young man. Take only one a day to start, but only if you need it. Let me know when you take them. You have my number, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Then there should be no problem.”

Izuku nodded slowly, but he just held the bottle, unwilling to open it.

Kurogiri refilled his water cup, but said nothing.

“Scared?” Tomura asked as the doctor left.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“It’s weak stuff, and a low dose. And he is a real doctor,” Tomura reassured him.

“I know. It’s not that.”

“You get hurt a lot and don’t wanna risk getting addicted?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Tomura took the bottle from him. “Mama Bear would hang onto your meds if you told her about them. He shouldn’t have given you so many, we coulda sent a smaller bottle home with you. I’ll hold them. Take one for now, you probably won’t even need a second one, and we’ll stay here tonight to make sure you’re not allergic.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I have to take proper care of you now, minion.”

“Oh, come on, I’m at least a lieutenant, edging into trusted lieutenant territory,” he joked.

Tomura smiled. “So you got ghosts in your head, that’s gotta fuck with you.”

“It’s been nice so far, actually.”

He laughed at that. “God you are fucking amazing. Flirting turns you into a gibbering mess, combat comes as naturally as breathing, and quirk-induced schizophrenia is ‘nice’. Who even are you?”

“I’m Stray,” he replied simply, honestly.

Tomura laughed as he pulled out his DSR and sat on the bed. “You got ghosts in your blood and Doc wants you to do cocaine about it.”

“Fuck, Tomura. Don’t make me laugh!” Izuku chuckled, holding his head. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah. It turns out Sensei was pissed because you interfered with, well, absolutely fucking destroyed, a side project he had to get David Shield under his thumb.” He shrugged.

“Oh,” he leaned against Tomura. “So, what’s my punishment?”

“Rest up for now; I’m still thinking about it.”

 

Tomoko slowly became aware of her surroundings. She was in a soft and comfortable bed. The warm morning sunlight was pouring through a window. The scent of hydrangeas and lavender filled the room. She could almost hear Mandalay scolding Kota in the distance.

The feeling of home brought tears to her eyes. Again, she tried to use Search. Again, she found herself alone. She wept softly at first, but it built into a harsh and ugly sobbing.

The noise must have irritated her captors because several people came bursting through the door.

“Ragdoll!?” It sounded like Tiger’s voice.

“Oh my God,” came next, in Pixie-bob’s voice. These villains were the cruelest sort.

“How?” said a voice like Mandalay but rougher, as though she had been screaming or crying for a long time. 

Tomoko lifted her head to glare at them, only to see her team, her family. 

 

The mood in the Yuuei meeting room was grim as the small collection of staff gathered there listened to the new intel. 

“She was just back in her bed,” Detective Tsukauchi explained. “She has been unable to use her quirk since her return. She says it’s gone.”

“They took it because she met Izuku,” Yagi muttered, “to protect his identity.” 

“They might claim that as the reason for the attack and act like it was a gift for him,” Nezu added.

“Our poor student,” Yamada said. “He’ll be devastated.”

“At least he was at home with his mother last night,” Inui said. “It gives us a bit of time to prepare.”

Chapter 87: Let's do Lunch

Izuku wished he could get a moment to himself, to talk to Ragdoll’s vestige. Rather than try to deny him use of her quirk, Ragdoll was attempting to overwhelm him with information. As a result, he still had a splitting headache, and he kept getting distracted. The mental strain of continually using the Quirk was exhausting him.

The moment he saw his mother, he pulled up her information. This confused Ragdoll enough that she stopped feeding him random information for a while and focused on Inko. Izuku sighed in relief. Location, age, biological sex, height, weight, blood pressure, oxygen saturation, pulse, respiration, blood sugar, vitamin deficiencies, skin damage, muscle damage, joint damage, bone damage, bone density, dehydration, hunger, fatigue, Quirk fatigue, Quirk damage, Quirk…

Izuku latched onto that piece of information. Inko Midoriya, Quirk: Telekinesis – Able to attract small objects, a thirty-centimeter cube or twenty kilograms. And then it gave him information he knew was not from Ragdoll. Izuku went pale and leaned heavily against the wall. Quirk type, passive or active, instantaneous use, duration, concentration, accumulation, range, and strength.

Izuku held his head. Is that my influence or his? Sensei would have had Search for at least long enough to transfer it. Come to think of it, he would have had the Quirk Storing quirk before it merged with the Passing Quirk. Would a copy of his quirk exist inside it then? I haven’t seen a vestige of him, but…

“Izuku?” His mother was by his side, worry clear on her face and in her voice.

“Oh, uh, sorry, Mom,” he said weakly. “Headache.”

“Were you injured?”

“No. I. I think it’s just stress. I’m going to lie down on the couch for a minute.” He carefully righted himself. His heart beat in his chest as if it wanted to escape him as badly as Ragdoll’s vestige. Izuku ignored them both as he made his way into the living room.

“Why couldn’t you just be evil?” the vestige pleaded, tears in her big, round eyes. Her form was wreathed in golden light just as Yagi’s was. The details were blurry, but he could make out the markings of her hero costume.

While he found the scene heart-wrenching, Izuku steadfastly ignored her. He closed his eyes, hoping to calm down, push back the pain and fatigue, and not fall asleep. “I’ll make us some fried tofu and a mix of edamame and broccoli. Do we have salmon or mackerel?”

“Mackerel,” she replied, pulling out a slab of tofu. “You just rest, for now, I’ll cook. But why these specifically? They’re not very comforting.”

Izuku cringed on the couch. “Uh… you know health stuff. At the gym, we were talking about nutrition and how your needs change as you start working out, and getting older.” He peeked open one eye as the pain began to ebb. Ragdoll was standing at the foot of the couch with an expression that was a mix of bemused, perplexed, and concerned. The cat vestige was curled up tightly on his abdomen; weightless and immaterial, but comforting all the same. The Quirk thrummed through his body, easing both the headache and soreness he hadn’t been truly aware of.

“Mackerel is good for stress,” Inko murmured. “And eggs.” She started a rolled omelet. “And Toki left us some berries, I can add a bit of my chocolate stash too.”

Pain healed, Ragdoll calmed down (at least for now), and existential dread pushed aside, Izuku stood up to set the table. He caught a whiff of his mother’s shampoo as he reached past her to grab plates. He nearly bristled like a cat. Chuckling to himself, he stopped and hugged her from behind, rubbing his forehead on her shoulders.

“Feeling better already?” his mother asked, surprised.

“Yeah. This helps,” he replied. “Being home helps.”

 

Yagi heard the timer on Yamada’s phone chime. Dread pooled in his stomach... or rather, where it used to be. It was just too much. He didn’t deserve it. How can they care about me when all of this is my fault? He blinked away some moisture from his eyes and redoubled his efforts to locate a suitable apartment.

When the microwave chimed, he attempted to retreat to the guest room, but Yamada just followed him. “Here we go. Some eggs, steamed veg, and grilled fish.”

“I’m not –”

“Going to waste away on our watch,” Aizawa said firmly from the door.

Yagi looked down. “I …”

“Desperately need a therapist,” Yamada said, poking him with a bite of egg. “Sho and I have found that being too tender and loving when we’re spiraling can actually make it worse. Sooo~ We’re gonna try aggressive love and support and see if that works better. You will eat; this is not a choice, it’s a rule. One cup of food and four ounces of liquid every two hours, and more water between. No arguments, no excuses, no negotiations. Penalties will occur.”

“P-penalties?”

“Yep,” he popped the P. “You’ll have to do lines the first time and essays if you keep it up. Then you might lose privileges.”

“I’m not a child.”

“Then don’t act like one,” Aizawa piped up.

Yagi huffed. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Yamada replied, lowering the food. “If Izuku loses you now, and because of guilt, we’ll lose him. He needs a stable support system.”

“I’m dying. I have less than a year, Yamada-kun.”

“Says who?”

“Sir Nighteye has seen it.”

“Fuck him,” Aizawa snapped. “Future’s not written in stone.”

“If he sees you waste away, we can stop that. Or delay it at least.” Yamada redoubled his efforts to feed Yagi.

“It’s a villain attack after I retire.”

“Maybe if we keep you in good condition, you’ll pull through,” Aizawa said, his voice tight.

“There’s nothing –”

“There’s nothing we won’t try, no favor we won’t call in, no resource we won’t tap to solve this, Toshinori. And that’s before we factor in the kid.” He turned away. “I think losing both of you would kill me. I know it’s not fair to put that on you, but I can’t fail you both.”

“Aizawa-kun!” Yagi stood.

“I’m gonna talk to my therapist. I’m not in a productive or healthy place right now.”

 

At eleven thirty, Inko received a text. Endeavor was confirming their lunch date. Inko thought it was cute that the big, important pro hero was so considerate of her schedule. 

I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes. Are you bringing Shoto with you?

Yes, he insists. 

That’s fine, the boys can go on a little lunch date while we talk. See you soon.

Inko paired a pistachio green, draped collar, sleeveless blouse with a simple champagne skirt that fell below the knee.  She added a matching jacket and the necklace Hiki gave her for her birthday. It was dressy enough to go to a nice restaurant but casual enough for a fast food place if that was where Endeavor wanted to eat.

At eleven forty-five, Endeavor rang to let her know they were pulling into the complex, and to confirm the apartment number. Izuku, still in his All M tee and track pants, let the pair in when Endeavor knocked. 

He was dressed in a dark blue suit jacket, matching slacks, and a crisp white button-up with no tie. Shoto had on a light teal tee shirt and well-worn white jeans. He fidgeted nervously. 

Izuku leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Hey, babe.”

Shoto blushed. “Hey.”

Endeavor frowned but did not comment. “Good morning, Midoriya-kun, Midoriya-san.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Todoroki-san,” Inko said. “And Shoto-kun, it’s been too long. Or it feels like it. I guess it has only been a few weeks.”

Shoto nodded. “It was nice studying here.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come over and study any time,” she assured him. “Please, come in.”

The pair followed her and Izuku to the living room. 

“Izuku wasn’t feeling well earlier,” Inko said to Endeavor. “No worries, it was just stress. Although I don’t know if he’ll be up to going out while we’re at lunch. But if you do text me. Okay?”

“Yeah, mom,” Izuku agreed. “We’ll probably just watch Netflix and cuddle. Maybe order take-out.”

“That’s good,” Inko said with a nod.

Endeavor made a slightly grumbling noise.

“I’m sure the boys will adhere to whatever meal plan Shoto is on.” Inko grabbed her purse. She pressed a hand to her necklace. “You’d think I’d feel safe going to lunch with a pro hero,” she laughed. 

“Anxiety doesn’t care,” Izuku piped up.

“Hiki’s gift helps, even if I’d never use it.”

“That’s good,” Izuku replied with a grin. “I’m glad the scar isn’t that bad.”

“It doesn’t bother me as much as how random it was. It was broad daylight.”

“I know,” Izuku agreed. “We can talk to Inui-sensei about it; I owe him two sessions for August. Such a scam.”

“Izuku,” Inko chided lightly. “You know it helps.”

“Yeah. Uh, hey. I’m gonna tell Shoto the thing, so uh, I guess it’s okay to let Endeavor know, while you’re out.”

“Nuh-uh. If you want him to know, you have to tell him. You know the rules.”

Izuku huffed. “Yeah, yeah. So, uh. I have pheromone-induced pack bonding issues.”

Endeavor blinked at him. “What is with your quirk?”

Izuku shrugged. “No idea.”

“So, what does this mean for us?” Shoto asked.

“Well, after ten days, I shouldn’t be able to detect the pheromones, so it might not change anything. Mom and I are taking a trip, and I’ll just add three days of no or low contact before that to check. As I get used to these new developments, these checks will be less necessary. I’m sure we’ll be fine.” 

“What are –” Endeavor started to ask.

“I can’t tell people apart consciously, but my pheromones on them or theirs on me lessen my overall anxiety and increase the likelihood of my pack bonding.”

“So, when is the trip?”

“We decided to leave Wednesday,” Inko spoke up. “Low contact will start on Sunday, which he spends with me anyway. That seems to be the gentlest option.”

Shoto nodded.

“You’re handling all of this well,” Endeavor said. “It’s admirable.”

“Why thank you, Todoroki-san,” Inko said. “Oh, we should get going. Izuku and I want to watch this drama that’s on later this afternoon.”

“I set up the DVR just in case,” Izuku reminded her.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Inko replied, smiling. “Okay, you two have fun. Call me if you leave the apartment at all. We should only be a couple of hours.” She headed to the door with Endeavor.

“So, have you ever been to Lantern Avenue Sushi?”

“No, but I’ve heard good things,” she replied as they left the apartment. “My friend Mitsuki Bakugo just raves about it.”

“It is good, and they have private rooms.”

“Excellent, we’ll be able to have an open and honest conversation then!”

“You are very optimistic about how this meeting will go.”

“The only way it will go badly is if we let it. A reasonable man, a loving father, an accomplished pro hero, would not let that happen.”

“Right,” he agreed. One would be forgiven for thinking he sounded unsure or hesitant in that moment, it was only Inko’s unwavering confidence in the inevitable positive results that made him seem unconvinced.

Once in the car, Endeavour introduced her to his driver, Untenmaru Kurumada. He had a very square head with high cheekbones, a broad nose, and neatly trimmed black hair. While he was loud and blunt, he was also well-mannered and sincere. He looked quite imposing in his black suit and white tie, and driving gloves. The effect was somewhat diminished by his thick hair antenna, white chinstrap beard, and bushy mustache.

“We can speak freely in front of Kurumada-san.”

“Excellent,” Inko said, taking on a very business-like tone. “I was so shaken up the last time we spoke. I hope I didn’t come off as rude, or –”

“I appreciate your candor, actually,” Endeavour replied, waving off the apology.

“Right. Down to brass tacks then. Do you have a problem with the boys dating?”

“It could ruin Shoto’s career.”

“Because they’re gay?”

“I don’t have a problem with Shoto being gay,” he clarified. “But, especially early in your career, image is important. He’ll never… it would damage his reputation.”

“It’s not the death knell it used to be, Todoroki-san. While you cater to an older, more traditional demographic, Shoto will be courting a generation that wasn’t even alive when you started your career. More than ten per cent of people ages eighteen to thirty identify as some form of LGBTQ, and seventy per cent of the same demographic support gay rights. It’s a different ball game.”

“Midoriya-kun coached you.”

Inko snorted. “I don’t need my son to prep me for a consultation.”

“Consultation?”

“Before Izuku was born, I was a social media consultant at a small firm here in Mustafa; mostly businesses looking to draw in new, usually younger, customers. I have worked with a few low-ranking pro heroes, and I still take two or three clients a year to earn a bit of spending money. It helps with the boredom, and hero merchandise isn’t cheap.”

Endeavor blinked at her. “Who?”

“Blackout about three years ago,” she replied. “Izuku’s a bit of a fan. He’s watched all his safety videos on YouTube.”

“He’s not –”

“ –Ranked very high, but the improved metrics netted him a six rank bump up and an extra three million yen a year, for the baby.”

“Baby?”

She nodded. “He has a beautiful little girl. The mother works from home so they can afford the hero insurance, including full death benefits.”

The car pulled up to the front of the restaurant, and Kurumada let Inko out while Endeavour got out on the street side. “I shall find a spot nearby. Do remember that patrols are to commence promptly at two pm.”

“Right, thank you. We should be done well before that.” Endeavour led Inko into the building. A hostess waved them over right away and took them to the room he had reserved. “We’ll start with the spicy garlic edamame, the green bean tempura, and tea.”

“Right away, Endeavor-sama.” The hostess bowed and left.

“A bit presumptuous, Endeavor-sama,” Inko teased. She picked up the menu. “It’s alright. It gives me time to choose.”

“Feel free to get whatever you’d like. I’m going to get the Sashimi platter.”

“That’s a lot of fish.”

“I’m an endomorph. Burning off too much rice isn’t worth the time, and I need the lean proteins anyway.”

Inko nodded. “How do you decide? Everything looks so good.”

“Try the Sushi and Sashimi combo then. It’s reasonably portioned, and Fuyumi is always happy with it. Like with the platter, the chief picks the pieces: five Sushi, eleven Sashimi, and a roll. Eel, most likely.”

“That sounds lovely.”

The hostess bustled back in with their tea and appetizers. “Have we decided?”

“Fuyumi and I’s usual,” Endeavor replied.

“Any requests?”

“No, I trust Fuchida-san.”

“Very well. It’ll be a ten-minute wait.” She bowed and retreated again.

Endeavor split the edamame and green beans evenly between the two of them. “Is there anything left to discuss at this point?”

“Oh, yes. Quite a lot.” Inko nibbled the edamame to see how spicy it was. “We need to talk about how we’re going to support the boys going forward. You are very focused on Shoto’s career, so I imagine that will be a consistent concern you have. I’m more worried about them being happy and healthy.”

Endeavor grumbled. “That ship has sailed.”

Inko squared her shoulders. “I think you should get Shoto into therapy.”

“That will make him look weak.”

Inko frowned. “Then authorize the school to do it, it’ll look like he has an after-school club. It’s not the stigma it once was, but I can understand wanting to keep your child’s mental health care private. You don’t make a public announcement for every doctor’s visit. This is no different, the brain is an organ.”

“I can’t force him.”

“Correct. You can, however, let him know it’s an option; one he needs to be the best hero he can.”

Endeavor huffed and almost asked her what she would know about it. “More statistics.”

She nodded. “Ones I kept on top of since Izuku was four.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she ate several bites before continuing. “Japan’s overall suicide rate is roughly sixty percent higher than the global average. It’s the leading cause of death for children between ten and nineteen. One in four. One in four, Todoroki-san, junior high school students suffers from clinical depression. The only thing I could do for Izuku was not push him. Overarching school pressure has been cited as the leading cause, even more so than bullying.” She picked at her food for a moment. “The numbers are harder to find for heroes, between suicide by villain and the Hero Commission’s PR team being good at their jobs, but working sideways… Police officers are at a higher risk of suicide than almost any other profession. In fact, suicide is so prevalent in the profession that the number of police officers who died by suicide is more than triple that of officers who were fatally injured in the line of duty. You’re first on the scene of some of the most dangerous and demanding situations imaginable, providing immediate care and support. It takes a toll. You have an in house therapist for fuck’s sake. I’m sure you know how strenuous and emotionally draining the job is. You face a great deal of trauma on a day-to-day basis. This constant exposure to devastation, life-threatening situations, and the physical strain of working long hours would grind away at anyone’s soul. You can’t tell me you’ve never had a sidekick who needs those services. The rates for PTSD and depression among police officers are five times higher than those of the civilian population. For heroes? Double it, easy. Trauma deals a strong blow to mental health, causing feelings of vulnerability, lack of control, and not being able to cope with future occurrences. Like any injury, it’s best to treat it early or take precautions to prevent it. The late nights, lost sleep, physical and financial strain, and strained relationships are all risk factors for suicide. Pile onto that the risks and temptations of substance abuse…”

“Shoto would never –”

“And he’d never date a boy, either.”

Endeavor’s jaw shut with a click.

“Pain meds are the most obvious, but alcohol is a socially acceptable alternative.  I don’t doubt that even you have turned to a liquid sedative just to get some sleep.”

He stuffed a mouthful of green beans in his face. It tasted like ash.

“And what they’ve been through, just this year…”

“I was not expecting anything this serious.”

“Izuku is my world. Every conversation about him is this serious, even if it doesn’t feel that way.”

“How do you deal with it?”

Inko gave him a rueful smile. “I eat my feelings.”

He cringed, but nodded. “I try not to drink in front of the kids. I’ve never been drunk at the house.”

“Good. I usually only drink once or twice a year; mulled cider at Christmas and maybe sake for birthdays.” She paused to take a few bites of edamame. “It’s good to teach them to have a healthy relationship with it.”

Endeavor nodded.

“What are your plans if the boys, when the boys become more serious?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s worth giving some thought. Even if Izuku and Shoto don’t work out, this isn’t going away.”

“Right.”

“Okay, we’ve covered some big topics successfully. Now, I think we should talk about boundaries and expectations. I trust them, but they are teens. I’ll be talking to Izuku about safe sex, of course, but also a healthy social life outside of Shoto. One or two dates a week, balanced with studying and hanging out with friends. And we take Sundays together, to improve our relationship.”

“Shoto started visiting his mother on Sundays.”

“That’s… good, right? Izuku does training on Saturdays, so that could be an option for you.”

“Shoto would never spend that kind of time with me.”

“Maybe family therapy?” she suggested. “Inui-sensei suggested I join him and Izuku for at least half an hour. It would be a way to let him air his grievances in a safe space.”

“I…”

“You recognize that the relationship needs work?”

“Yes,” he said uneasily.

“Then it’s on you, the parent, to mend it.” Inko looked up at Endeavor. “Todoroki-san, I’ve made mistakes with Izuku, and it negatively impacted his mental health. All I can tell myself is that I’m doing the best I can. I will use any resource available to me to help and support my son. Sometimes that means consulting an expert.”

“I’ll talk to Shoto about it.”

“Good.”

There was a knock on the door, and the hostess came in with their food. “Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

 

Izuku locked the door behind their parents. “Oh, that’s not good for my anxiety.” He added Shoto and Endeavor to Search.

Enji Todoroki, Quirk: Hellflame – Able to generate fire and control its temperature, additionally provides resistance to high temperatures, emitter, active, instantaneous use, flames last as long as they have a fuel source, concentration to control flames’ temperature, no accumulation, one hundred and fifty foot range, and A-tier strength.

Shoto Todoroki, Quirk: Thermalkinesis  – Able to generate fire and ice, additionally body is resistant to extreme temperatures, emitter, active, instantaneous use, flames last as long as they have a fuel source, ice lasts until it melts, concentration to control temperature and shape, no accumulation, one hundred and fifty foot range, and B-tier strength.

“You know she’ll be safe with him,” Shoto said.

“It’s not that. She’s taking our relationship seriously.”

“Should she not?”

“Babe, that’s not the point. I… It's anxiety. I’m worried about nothing. Nothing’s changed, but it feels like everything is going too fast. It’s not just this. I… are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“Let’s order way too much food and binge-watch something trashy.”

Shoto laughed softly. “Where do you want to order from?”

“There’s a soba place not too far from here.”

 “Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” Shoto asked gently.

“Sure, we can,” Izuku said with a shrug. “I have anxiety, and our parents are talking to each other. Intellectually, I know nothing bad will come of it, but it fills me with dread.”

“Why?”

“I’m used to handling things by myself.” He pulled Shoto to the couch. “Her being involved is new. New can be scary. I mean, how would you feel if Endeavor suddenly became a proactive and loving parent?”

“Yeah, I guess that would be weird.” Shoto let himself be lowered to the couch.

Izuku dug out the remote and switched Netflix on. “I want to cuddle about it.”

“Just cuddle?”

“And order too much food and binge-watch trash.” He hovered over the description of a drama about a crisis team helping suicidal people, but decided on something more lighthearted. “Nothing we haven’t discussed. Never anything we haven’t talked about.”

“… I overheard you and Momo at the mall.”

Izuku flashed him a small panicked smile. “I think things are a bit much right now to worry about that. Momo needs time to think about the concept, and I’m not sure if it would work for us, but in theory, I don’t think I’m a jealous person.”

“You said your other friends are weird, but it was cheating that messed up their relationships.” Shoto was scrolling through the restaurant’s menu. “Oh, this looks good.”

Izuku nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had their beef bowl before, and the egg bowl is good.” Izuku turned to Shoto. “So, basically, yeah, cheating, but also getting bored or just wandering eyes and jealousy. Um, Yamada-sensei told me about him and Aizawa-sensei dating in college, and some of the problems they had. It was a lack of communication and jealousy. And I kind of think we’re young and inexperienced. While I’d love for everything to just magically work out, we don’t know what we want, what we like, or what we don’t. I just wanna give us the best chance.”

“So what would this look like?” Shoto asked.

“Same as with us; when/if we’re ready to try it. Slow, gentle. Normal dates, group dates; going to the movies, holding hands,” Izuku explained awkwardly.

 “And who are you interested in?” Shoto started their food order online, getting them both two meals and twice the appetizers he thought they’d eat.

“Uh, no one?”

“Really?”

“I mean, I think I have boundary issues from the pack bonding, or I’m just really cuddly, so I’m going to try and get a handle on that before I explore any wayward attractions.”

“Are you attracted to Bakugo?”

“Are you attracted to Endeavor?” Izuku shot back.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” He put his hands up defensively. “What about Shinso and Mei?”

“I’m not going to examine that yet.”

“But you are attracted to them.”

“I’m attracted to a bunch of wildly conflicting personality and physical traits. I don’t know enough about my pack bonding issues to pursue anything else right now. I feel safe with you, and that’s what I need right now.”

“Okay,” Shoto agreed with a nod.

Chapter 88: Pickling Plums

Kurogiri’s room still smelled like a combination of the three of them. Izuku was careful not to touch anything unnecessarily as he collected his costume and moved to the bathroom. He knew the low/no contact wouldn’t need to start until Sunday, but …

His talk with Inui-sensei was still swirling in his mind. Human pheromones were effective on human senses for two to three days, while animals and those with heightened senses could detect them and be affected by them for around ten days. The trip would make it easier, but it still left two days where he’d be vulnerable.

He wondered if he really could keep his hands off Kurogiri. They were always touching. It would seem odd that he suddenly didn’t want it. He knew he could blame trauma, but he didn’t want them to think it was due to the attack; it had been less than a week since the I-island incident. He could get away with claiming he was just overwhelmed.

Or he could tell them. But would it upset them that he felt the need to test his feelings? And, if Shield didn’t come through with the DNA results, why bother testing the pack bonding? The League was about to be all he had. Izuku teared up knowing his mom would blame herself even though she was the one person who didn’t push him down this path. He couldn’t think of any way to tell her it wasn’t her fault. It was happenstance. It was just bad luck that he’d walked home that way. That he’d been attacked, saved, and broken. It had to be some kind of twisted miracle that All Might had even heard about the fall.

He hadn’t had a chance to decompress in a while, and he had never really bothered to be introspective about his situation. He had thought about how much being caught would hurt the people he cared about. Or the line between hero and villain, and which side he was on. But the possibility of it actually happening, and what that meant to him? In a month, everyone would know that he was a villain.

Aizawa-sensei would know that he was the one who molested him in the club. He’d know that every second he’d spent training Izuku had been wasted. He hated wasting his time. He’d hate Izuku for assaulting him in the club, for his part in the USJ incident.

Shoto would hate him. Shinso and Mei would – hopefully – forget about him. Kacchan already hated him; he’d feel justified in his treatment of Izuku. Maybe his mom would do the smart thing and distance herself from him. It kinda sucked that his dad was transferred back to Japan. It would have been easier for them to move her to Fiji. Yagi… he would be devastated, but Izuku had tried to tell him. (I know. I understand. I love you.)

He’d live with Tomura and the League if he wasn’t caught right away. Tomura was fun to be around, it was kind of like having an older brother. He was snarky and mean, but he wanted what was best for Izuku. If anybody else gives you shit, kill them. He would protect him. They would protect each other. They were a cute little crime family.

But he was already on thin ice with Sensei. Would Sensei strip his quirks and throw him away? Would Tomura let him? He was just a bodyguard after all. The only thing he had brought to the table was access to Yuuei. When that was gone, they wouldn’t need him anymore. Not that Tomura needed him anyway. He didn’t need Izuku to kill for him; he was perfectly capable of that himself. He didn’t need Izuku as a bodyguard; he had Kurogiri, and Sensei could just make another Nomu if he wasn’t enough.

He would go back to being a useless, worthless Deku. Unless Sensei decided to make him into a Nomu.

His shadow wrapped tightly around him as if to say, ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He realized that he was on the floor, curled up. He was sobbing into a hand towel. The edges of his vision were staticy. The cat vestige was crouched next to him, signing soothingly, “Breath. It will be okay. We won’t abandon you. We’ll help you. We’ll protect you.”

“He’s having a panic attack?” Ragdoll’s vestige asked.

“Yeah, he does that,” Shadow Bind replied. It was the first time he had heard her voice. It was hard-edged but almost melodic. “Pressure helps. You could feed him some soothing information about his loved ones.”

“He loves villains.”

“Yeah, like no villain has ever needed saving.” The cat lay across Izuku again; ethereal, but the thought helped.

“Some rescue hero you are,” Shadow Bind said with a smirk.

There was a sharp knock on the bathroom door. “Love?”

Izuku tried to answer. He pulled the towel away from his mouth. He struggled to take a breath. His vision cleared, though the cat remained. Izuku sobbed.

“I’m coming in.” Kurogiri warped into the bathroom. He knelt next to Izuku. “It will be alright whatever it is. We will get through it together.” He pulled Izuku into his arms. They sat, Izuku wrapped in his arms, on the floor of the bathroom until the boy calmed down.

“Sorry. Sorry. ‘m sorry.”

“Hush, Love. Just breathe. Take your time.”

He shook his head. “I’m worthless. You wasted your time on me. I’m sorry.”

Kurogiri squeezed him, painfully tightly. “No time spent with you is a waste. I love you.”

Izuku shook his head frantically.

“Stop. Stop, Love. You’ll hurt yourself.” Kurogiri hesitated. Then he warped them out of the bathroom.

Izuku didn’t recognize the location. It was a remote hilltop. He could only see clearly out to about a hundred yards, but neither this nor the muted color palette diminished the beauty of the vast, star-littered sky. Izuku scanned the horizon for signs of civilization and, frighteningly, found none.

“It’s alright, Love. Cry it out. It’s okay. Scream if you need to.”

And he did. Izuku let out an anguished, wordless scream. It was as if a dam broke inside him. He screamed and screamed. Soon, the wordless emotional release became a tirade of everything that was going wrong. His childhood, the coma, Sensei, Kacchan, hurting Aizawa, his father, the tower, watching Sam Abraham be killed, Stain, the teachers from Shiketsu, being a villain, his mixed feelings about dating Shoto without telling him he’s seeing two other people, lying to Yagi, seeing the past users of his quirks, and Inui-sensei discovering his potential pack bonding issues.

“It will be all right. If you would like to take the time and test your feelings, that is all right. I want your enthusiastic consent for anything we do. If you need to know that your feelings are genuine, then by all means, remove the doubt, Love. I will wait. I promise.”

Izuku burrowed into his chest and clung to him. His shadow wrapped them up together as he sobbed into his vest.

“Just relax today. You have been through so much.”

When Izuku had finally cried himself out, Kurogiri warped them back to the bathroom. Izuku stripped, and Kurogiri collected each item as it came off and put it aside. He lifted Izuku in strong, misty arms and carried him into the shower. “There, there.”

He stripped himself and put all their clothes into the hamper. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Izuku rubbed his hands over his lover and found him covered in bandages. “Kurogiri?”

“I will heal. They are mostly superficial. The girl unwisely trained her quirk to capture and restrain, not harm. Instinctively, she held back, even in her panic.”

“You shouldn’t get them wet.”

“They are due to be changed.”

The boy nodded in response.

Kurogiri was gentle as he washed Izuku. After he rinsed his hair, he wrapped his arms around Izuku. He placed a kiss on the tip of his ear. “God, you are beautiful.” He pulled back. “Apologies.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, Stray, it’s not. You’re in no condition to consent.”

“I want you to need me.” He looked over his shoulder at Kurogiri. “I feel like you’re all I have.”

“You have Tomura, and Himiko.”

“Tomura doesn’t need me.”

Kurogiri’s silence felt like condemnation. It felt like losing.

“Himiko doesn’t need any of us.” Tears welled in his eyes.

“Stray.”

“Please.”

“Tell me exactly what you want.”

“I don’t want to be useless, even if – if I was quirkless again.”

“Love, you are not useless. You are intelligent, resourceful, and yes, so, so useful. Stray. Izuku, you are so important. You have helped Tomura grow from a sullen, lonely child into a true leader. You are vital to his operations. You would be even without a quirk. He cares for you deeply. As do I.”

Izuku turned around on the shower bench. He wrapped his arms around Kurogiri’s neck. He pulled him down and close. He leaned back to get more contact and ended up falling off the bench. “Ow.” His shadow clung to Kurogiri, forcing him to stay on top of Izuku. “You okay?”

“I am fine,” he replied, shifting a bit. “You are clearly not.”

“I’m getting there,” Izuku said. He wriggled around until the pair could lie flat on the shower floor.

They lay there, naked and wet, with Kurogiri’s weight pushing down on Izuku. He felt grounded and safe for the first time since he’d fallen from the tower. He hadn’t realized how much it had affected him. Slowly, the frantic need to feel and be held ebbed. His desperate grip on Kurogiri eased.

“I do not want to rush you, but Tomura was looking forward to introducing you to the others.”

“Five more minutes?”

“Very well.” He sighed as if it were some great sacrifice, then buried his face in Izuku’s neck. He nuzzled the crook of his shoulder and dragged his lips along his jugular. He kissed his collarbone and whispered, “I love you,” against his throat.

After what was definitely more than five minutes, Tomura pounded on the bathroom door. “I’m not going to wait all night, perverts.” It was reassuring; Tomura valued him. He was looking forward to showing Izuku off to the League.

Izuku laughed. “Sorry! I’ll get dressed.”

Kurogiri pulled him to his feet and made sure they were both properly rinsed off. He dried Izuku and then himself.

Izuku stood in front of the mirror again. He turned his face this way and that, before putting in his contacts, slipping on his ears, and applying the temporary dye. Slowly, Izuku Midoriya was replaced by Stray. Familiar black hair and amber eyes stared back at him in the mirror.

This was how Aizawa always saw him. The thought struck him suddenly. His teacher could only see the true him. He was a monster.  He felt at home with other monsters. Felt loved by them. Reassured by them. Safe with them.

If he were exposed, they would be the only people who accepted him. Tomura didn’t need him to kill, but he did appreciate his tactical thinking, his insights, and his wild ideas. Distance was the last thing he needed right now.

“Are you hungry?” Kurogiri asked as he began bandaging his injuries.

Izuku nodded as he took over. “A little. I can wait, or just rummage through the fridge for something with protein in it.”

“I’m not so hurt that I can’t cook.”

“And I’m not so traumatized that I can’t eat leftovers.”

Kurogiri chuckled. The rich, earthy sound was like mana from the heavens to Izuku. He rested his head on Kurogiri’s shoulder and breathed him in. Not wet but not dry particles of mist tickled his nose and filled his lungs. Some tension was eased, and the panic uncoiled in his chest. He was loved. Kurogiri loved him. Knowing everything about him – a weak, clingy, crybaby that used his quirklessness as a reason not to try – Kurogiri still loved him and helped him do better, be better. To be stronger. To be a monster.

Eventually, they exited the bathroom. Kurogiri was wearing a maroon long-sleeved tee and baggy black linen pants. Izuku had on his rip-stop cargo pants, boots, a dark magenta Star Dust tee that said ‘Sparkle’, and his jacket. Izuku ate cold chicken skewers straight out of the fridge as Kurogiri made him a rolled omelet.

“Sure, but when I do that, I’m a heathen and need to get a plate,” Tomura grumbled from the couch.

“You’re not sleeping with him,” Izuku replied flippantly.

Tomura flipped him off. “Anyway, the new guys should be back from their investigations by now. How would you get the mainstream interested in the message?”

He shrugged. “Like mom said: have the hot one do video essays. About twenty-two minutes for YouTube and ten on TikTok. I would do a thesis statement first, then break down each school in order of their students’ placement in the sports festival. Maybe start on TikTok? It’s a bit more ‘wild west’, ya know? I mean, it would still have to be several accounts, because they’d shut it down once they knew it was us and not some deranged cosplayers, but by then people would have saved, reuploaded, and stitched to our videos so they’d be out there. As long as we don’t call for violence, there really isn’t a limit to what we can say. Technically. And the fast-paced trends and sounds going around, combined with the algorithm promoting content that the user would be interested in, rather than just new stuff, means that we could go back and do old trends, and no one would object.”

Tomura chuckled. “Seriously?”

Izuku laughed. “Well, you seem to like my hysterical ideas. We could do a League Official account and like a thirst trap account. Oh yeah! You can stream video games on your favorite platform, as well. Diversity is the key. The more we humanize ourselves and dehumanize the police and hero commission, the more effective it would be. We should do personal stories, too. You know, talk about things that have happened to us. And just, like, normal, fun TikTok stuff; dances, skits, stitching, challenges, trends. To curry a strong parasocial relationship with the audience. Online communities, TikTok especially, are all about imitating the casual, friendly vibe of small groups and one-on-one interactions. It’s how they make money.”

Tomura perked up at that. “Okay. We can try it. Not like it’ll cost more than time.”

“Yeah, and Kurogiri can warp the burn phones all over for uploads and hide our location.”

“Okay, let’s go. The recruits tend to get antsy if left alone too long.”

 

They were warped to a dingy warehouse somewhere near the sea. The tang of salt was barely perceptible above the diesel and oil that clung oppressively in the air, but that didn’t cover the mishmash of human smells. Sweat and pheromones hung in the air. The musk of six different new people at once hit Izuku’s nose like a punch to the face.

He swallowed the fear and jealousy he knew was caused more by being aware of his pack bonding issues than actually having them. He’d read through the information packet Inui had given him; mostly, he seemed to have developed anxiety and attachment issues elsewhere that were aggravated by his heightened sense of smell. Which duh. He didn’t know if scenting had an effect on his attachments, and the League was his best bet for finding out. Not that he wanted to alienate them, but it would likely be his last chance to figure it out.

A large crate in the middle of the room was surrounded by six smaller crates and lit by several camping lanterns and a laptop. Papers, file folders, and clear plastic file boxes were piled up on and around the crates. There was a bag of trash off to one side filled with takeout containers and food wrappers. It only smelled faintly of overly sweet sauce and grease. The place was surprisingly clean for a crash pad, especially considering the hastily divided sleeping accommodations.

Six strangers were scattered about the illuminated area. An older blond man with a very propionate scar down the middle of his forehead stood near the edge of the light smoking. He was wearing a black spandex suit with a mask tucked into his belt. Near him was a twenty-something with a lizard mutation and pink hair. He was wearing a very poorly done Stain cosplay, but at least he wasn’t wearing the obnoxious grungy eye mask. To his left was a man in a trench coat and top hat. He was completely covered, including a full facemask over a nylon ski mask. He was poring over papers with a younger man covered in burn scars and wearing an outfit that was slightly too emo to be new-wave and slightly too disheveled to be stylish. Running back and forth between them and a stack of file boxes was a plain-looking kid in a middle school uniform. His hair was a hard-to-define light brown; not yellow enough to be tan, or grey enough to be taupe, but something almost like a dark beige. Lastly was a redhead in baggy men’s clothing. She looked like an all-night gas station attendant just getting off work.

“Did you bring us dinner?” Dabi asked. He looked up at Izuku and gave him a lopsided grin. He looked so familiar, like Izuku should have recognized him, but he knew they’d never met before. His eyes were a dazzling teal –by far his most striking feature – and he felt like he knew them from somewhere.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in casual clothes,” Magne murmured, looking up.

“I would not have predicted that shirt,” Twice said, “Shine on, Superstar.” He gave a thumbs-up as he delivered Star Dust’s classic line.

“Unfortunately, something came up,” Kurogiri said with an apologetic bow, “I was unable to prepare a meal.”

“Okay. Let’s do this properly then.” Tomura stepped forward and pulled Izuku up next to him. “Listen up, people.” He gestured behind them, “You’ve all met Toga; she’s been standing in for Stray while he worked on other projects.”

“Hi!” She waved at them. “Sorry for the deception!”

The recruits all stopped their tasks and murmured greetings.

“And this,” he gestured to Izuku, whose eyes were still red from crying, “is Stray. He’s the one behind Stain’s recent PR success. I expect you all to treat orders from him as if they’re coming from me. Understood?”

Izuku blinked at Tomura. “Wait. Hey, we have minions.”

“Hush, idiot.”

Izuku giggled. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“Tonight, he’s going to get to know you, maybe give you a couple of small tasks or make a few suggestions. Welcome to the League of Villains, you’ve all passed the interview process,” Tomura rasped.

Izuku looked over the mountain of papers before them. Having a task would be easier on his nerves.  The tinny and deep qualities the modulator gave his voice echoed hollowly in the warehouse. “How are you organizing these?”

Magne shrugged. “Just trying to make sure they’re in the right folders at the moment, sweetie. Finished ones are over there.” She pointed to the stack next to Twice.

He nodded. “Okay.” Izuku sat on the empty crate next to her and began sorting the files in front of him. He kept half an eye on their behavior and interactions as he helped compile files. There were a couple of obvious relationships forming. The adult recruits – Twice, Compress, and Magne – tended to check in with each other when making decisions. Dabi was both trying to play lone-wolf and vie for a leadership role, which just caused Spinner and Mustard to roll their eyes at him.

Kurogiri began bringing in food; he started with a spread of appetizers: Edamame, grilled fish fins, a variety of skewers, and oysters. Then he brought the League’s preferred entrees. Sushi and sake for Compress. Twice had a beer, miso soup, Nikujaga, and a small Oyakodon. Cold soba and vodka with cranberry juice for Dabi. Mustard had spam onigirazu and grilled salmon, with a selection of Ramune. Magne had shrimp and asparagus pasta with a side of pickled vegetables, a salad, and green tea. Fried chicken and dumplings with a regional off-brand cola for Spinner. Toga was brought a very indulgent bowl of ramen and a peach Soju. Tomura was fed a variety of appetizers, snack foods, and a whiskey sour with lime while he played on the DSR. Izuku was tempted by a very loaded katsudon and melon soda. And naturally, Kurogiri had nibbled and grazed as he cooked.

Izuku stretched and gave Magne an appraising look. He activated Search and hesitantly placed her in the list. The amount of information was almost overwhelming on its own; location, age, biological sex, height, weight, blood pressure, oxygen saturation, pulse, respiration, blood sugar, vitamin deficiencies, skin damage, muscle damage, joint damage, bone damage, bone density, dehydration, hunger, fatigue, Quirk fatigue, Quirk damage, Quirk, Quirk type, passive or active, instantaneous use, duration, concentration, accumulation, range, and strength.

Kenji Hikiishi, Quirk: Magnetism – Able to magnetize living things, males are polarized south and females are polarized north, emitter, active, instant/concentration, no accumulation, fifteen-foot range, and B-tier strength.

“Like what you see?” Magne said after some time.

“Oh, yeah. That is a fascinating and versatile quirk,” he murmured. Aloud, he said, “Aside from the outfit, sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Izuku shrugged. “Keeping in mind that I’m not the most fashionable person, and not to drag you in a comfy-casual outfit, but you look like you raided your older brother’s laundry hamper.”

“I’m not a man!” Magne hissed.

“Then why are you dressed like one?” Izuku snapped back. He cringed at himself and held his hands up placatingly. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude. I’m being an ass. I don’t want to be an ass right now. Please, let me try again. What I mean is, if that’s not how you want to present yourself, we can get you something else to wear for your social media debut.”

Magne put on a demure look. “It’s hard to find cute clothes in my size.”

“Okay,” Izuku tapped his cheek. “You’re what, a men’s two XL? Three to be comfy?”

She glared at him. Toga started to stalk up to him; her steps were silent, but his shadow was twisting and roaming in the dim light.

“I only know dude sizes, Himiko. If you’ve got a translation, I’d love to know it.”

“You just go up one size, it’s not that hard,” she replied. “So women’s large is men’s medium.”

“Thank you.” Izuku gave her a little bow. “She picked some things out for me recently. So, three X. As for pants… Forty waists, thirty-four length?”

“So, twenty-fours or two X, and any cut that says long or tall,” Toga translated.

“I don’t need to pass to be a woman.”

Izuku blinked at her. “Of course not. I’m sorry if that’s the impression I was giving off. You’re not the only one who looks disheveled at the moment. To be honest, I think you’re the easiest to clean up and make presentable; a change of clothes, a bit of styling for your hair, and some proper lighting to do your makeup. In case it’s not obvious, I’m a bit focused on our social media presence. You’ll make a great face when we doll you up.”

Toga grinned and patted Magne’s arm. “Baby girl needs a clothing allowance.”

Izuku grinned ferally back at her. His mask hid most of it, but it lit up his eyes in a frightful way. “We are about to look a lot more organized than we are.”

 

With Twice getting everyone’s measurements, it only took a few hours to whip up a cohesive look. Everyone had a pair of black tactical ripstop pants. They were casual enough to walk around out in public, but it wouldn’t take much to give them a paramilitary look, either. Footwear was left unchanged, but Izuku made a list of everyone’s sizes to order boots from Giran. Tops were far less uniform, but Izuku restricted them to black and red with brass accents; the League had an official color scheme.

“None of this matters,” Mustard said, as Izuku held up a couple of shirt options. 

“Actually,” Izuku countered, “humans are sight-based predators, so appearances do matter. Right now, you look like prey. You look weak, naive, and young. I used to be that way, too. Now, let’s see what we can do to make you into a real villain.” 

“My uniform is a symbol of how –”

“You can’t move past one shitty setback. How weak you are for not finding an alternative path. Plus, you’re clearly still in middle school. Don’t worry. We can help.” He held the shirts up again. “Either of these interests you?”

“Just stick him in a black hoodie,” Toga said.

“He’s the one who has to wear it. It’s his decision.”

“Why are we degrading ourselves on TikTok?”

“Influencing the mainstream. Stain caters to outsiders, people who feel abandoned by society. We’re the second prong. Changing the public perception is key to destabilizing the system. Between that and shaking their faith in the Hero Commission, it’ll only take a little push to effect real change. I mean, it’ll still take time, but with normal methods, you’re looking at a hundred to a hundred and fifty years to effect noticeable change. I want to make a difference in my life.”

“How can a stupid TikTok channel accomplish that?”

“Parasocial relationships.”

“What?”

“The more we humanize ourselves, the more people will identify with us, and therefore start to think of us as friends. As the line blurs, we go from villains to celebrities. Then we tell the sad stories of why we became villains, and how the Hero Commission is a real, tangible target to blame; instead of bad luck, bad choices, and societal issues.” 

“I’ll take the hoodie.”

“Excellent.” He handed the garment over. “Okay, Tomura is set. Toga can dress herself. Kurogiri black shirt, red vest, no tie.”

“Really?”

“It’s sexy.”

“I’m glad you have no ulterior motives.”

“Grab me a suitable shirt?”

Kurogiri ran his hand down Izuku’s chest. “I know just the thing.” He returned quickly in a black silk button-up and an ox-blood vest, holding a black lightweight sweater with brass lines that crisscrossed horizontally and vertically. 

Izuku changed to find that the sweater was very snug. “I’m glad you have no ulterior motives.”

“It’s sexy,” Kurogiri purred at him.

Izuku kissed him through the mask. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, but we have work to do.”

“Yes. Work. Important work.” Izuku shook himself. “Okay, who wants to go first?”

“I’ll get it over with,” Tomura rasped. “What do I do?”

“Name, rank, and serial number,” Izuku replied. “Er, rather name, affiliation with the League, and uh … end goal?”

“Goal, huh?” Tomura put his DSR down. He grabbed a crate to sit on. As soon as the camera was rolling, he said, “I’m Tomura Shigaraki of the League of Villains. No matter how badly the system needs overhauling, killing innocent people is never justified. How do you decide who's innocent? Children are being trained as soldiers. Children are being abandoned in the streets, left to fend for themselves.” He looked a little haunted as he spoke. “Violence for the sake of others makes it admirable. Heroes and villains both thrive on violence, but we’re still categorized; one’s good and the other evil. Violence only breeds more violence. Endeavor has the highest incident clearance rate in Japan. Rescue heroes are paid by the incident, and the spotlight heroes according to the ‘threat level’ of the villain caught. Underground heroes put in more hours and can’t even make extra with merchandising. Every system needs updating from time to time. But while you’re worrying about bad apples, we’re wary of the roots, because no healthy tree naturally bears strange fruit.”

Izuku grinned beneath his mask. “That was perfect!” His shadow raced out and wrapped around Tomura up to his knees.

“You don’t think it was stupid to quote All Might?”

“There is nothing more mainstream than All Might.”

“You realize you just called yourself a basic bitch, right?”

Izuku chuckled. “Yeah, that’s fair. I’m getting better though.”

“Heh. Can’t see the pickled plum on your back, little brother?”

“Otaku.”

Chapter 89: Hello

Magne approached the camera next. She did a few poses while Izuku adjusted the height and coloring of the lights. Her orange button-up and tee were replaced with a red, zip-front halter top and black suit jacket. The zipper was more gold than brass, but the subtle jewel-tone embroidery made up for it.

With a frown hidden by his mask, Izuku rummaged in the sewing supplies. Not finding what he wanted and not wanting to waste time making it, he approached Twice.

Jin Bubaigawara, Quirk: Double – Able to create copies of anything, two at a time, through hands, emitter, active, larger objects take longer to produce, objects remain until damaged, no concentration, no accumulation, no range, and C-tier strength.

“Do you know what a hip pad is?”

“Like shape-wear?” Twice asked. “A cool place to hang out?” He waved his hands in awkward finger guns at Izuku.

“Yeah, shape-wear,” Izuku nodded. “We need a pair for Magne.”

“Excuse you?” she said.

“I only know the one pattern for pants.” He held up a finger but didn’t turn to look at her. “It’s quick, but it’s not pretty. You lose a lot in translation. Look, even Himiko looks like a prepubescent child in these. It’s a quick fix for now, and we can tailor the pants later for a better fit.”

“I can only make people,” Twice said. “And their clothing and gear!~” Twice blinked at that. “I can try.”

“Good,” Izuku said, patting him on the shoulder. “We want our girl to look her best.”

It took Twice a few tries to produce a pair of slim hip pads that subtly lent curves to Magne’s muscular frame, but everyone was pleased with the results when he did.

Finally, Magne stood in front of the camera. It took a few takes to get exactly what she wanted to say right. “I’m Magne of the League of Villains. Not too long ago, I met with an old friend. She’s timid and shy; a gentle soul. But she supports me, even knowing about my past. She said to me, ‘Those who are bound by the chains of society laugh at those who aren’t.’She praised me for having the courage to decide where I belong, while she didn’t. It’s because I want to live a life without shackles that I am here!”

With a second nod to All Might, something of a tone was set. Moreover, Izuku was seeing just how the hierarchy of the league was going to change. He took a moment to rearrange his list, thankful that Ragdoll was being merciful; His mother, Tomura, Kurogiri, Toga, Magne, Twice, Compress, Dabi, Spinner, Mustard. He put Ujiko at the bottom of the list; he’d stay on it just to keep track, but he wasn’t part of their operation. He thought about peeking into the mass of existing contacts but decided to wait, in case that upset the vestige.

 

Izuku had suggested that Tomura scroll through TikTok and jot down any trends or audios he wanted to do. He set his phone up in a second ring light on a stack of crates and leaned against the rough brick wall. The rig was just dim enough that it gave the illusion that he was lit only by his phone.

“So, tell me which hurts worse?” Tomura rasped. “Saying something and wishing you had not or saying nothing and wishing you had?”

 

“Ooh, ooh, me next,” Twice said, pulling on his mask. He had settled on a black tank top, and pairing the two was something of a look. Izuku privately thought the man had soft daddy energy, but not the sexy kind, the kind that let you have your first beer at ten. “I have the perfect one.” 

Toga took the short script he handed her. As they filmed the little skit, she struggled not to giggle at his outlandish antics.

“Are you ready?” Toga asked off-camera.

Twice nodded enthusiastically. 

“Let’s go! What’s your name?” 

“Twice!” 

“What’s your age?” 

“Thirty-one!” He held up all ten fingers, made a fist twice, then held up one finger.

“Where do you live?” 

“With the League of Villains.” 

“Could you show us your thumbprint?” 

He gave the camera a gloved thumbs-up. 

“Thank you for complying. Your local authorities have been made aware of your crimes, and are on their way.” 

Twice put his hands on his cheeks dramatically, and ran into the darkness of the warehouse.          

 Toga burst out giggling. They ran through the skit a few more times just to make sure they got a good take.

 

“I have determined I will no longer be caring about the opinions of mortals,” Tomura leaned his head back against the wall, “as I no longer have the funds to renew my subscription to giving a shit.” He laughed and did another take before adjusting the light to have a slightly cooler blue glow; with his light hair, it made him look more ethereal.

 

Izuku chuckled as they finished up. “Nice. Can we do another one? I want to stitch them together, to get your best side.”

“Yeah, of course,” Twice agreed cheerfully, then somberly added, “but I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay. We can workshop it,” Izuku said. “Maybe try rambling in front of the camera. I’ll jot down notes when you say something we can use.” 

He sat on the crate and was quiet for a long time. Finally, he pulled his mask back off. “Hey, Stray, I guess we never really got to know each other over the last week, huh? Since it was Toga, I mean. So, Hi, I’m Twice of the League of Villains. My folks died when I was in middle school. They were killed in a villain attack. With no other relatives, I was alone. Just me. By myself. And in modern society, when you’re someone without roots... Well, not a lot of people can relate to that. I just wanted someone to talk to... All I wanted was someone I could trust and who’d trust me in return. I had a blast. When a person’s life starts spiraling, what’s the one thing they want? Comfort. Am I wrong? Going after that single-mindedly led to one mistake after another. It wasn’t until I hit rock bottom that I realized my biggest mistake of all... I couldn’t even trust myself.”

Izuku took notes. It wouldn’t take much to clean that rambling speech into a proper, heart-wrenching introduction. Izuku knew he was falling under the effects of forced teaming. With his not very well explored pack-bonding issues, he could be even more susceptible to mirroring the level of intimacy presented by others. He knew he should be wary of anyone sharing too much information too soon, but Twice was so charismatic and open, he couldn’t help but trust the older man, just a tiny bit. “I can’t say I’ve been through anything that bad, but I have felt that deep aching loneliness. Joining the League has helped with that. So, I hope you can find comfort with us.” He sighed. “Losing family is a bitch, but at least they didn’t throw you away.”

Twice stared at him for a moment, a sad, almost wistful expression on his face. “Wanna play two truths and a lie?”

Izuku chuckled at that. “Sure.”

“I can duplicate almost anything; my duplicates only last for a day, and I can only make two duplicates at a time.”

“That’s three whole lies,” Izuku said without thinking. “You could probably duplicate anything if you understood it well enough. Your duplicates last until they take a certain amount of damage. And you’re not limited to two duplications because you can produce a person and their gear. That means you could make a copy of Himiko, and she could pass her knife off to Mustard, that’s two separate objects. And you can clone two of her at a time, so that’s four; if we assume clothing is attached and not also separate objects. Although I don’t know if the separate objects would be destroyed if the main duplicate was…”

Twice blinked at him. “Um. I’ve never thought about it like that. They would be. But I can’t make three or four copies of Toga-chan.”

“Hmm. That may be true. When was the last time you tried?”

“Be- before I … I duplicated myself. I can make two, and the copies could each make two, but I can’t do that anymore. You understand?”

“Fascinating.” Izuku recorded the information in his notebook. There’s no indication in Search that he can’t just keep making copies. So, which is it and how do I test it?

“Your turn,” Twice reminded him. “Don’t hold out on me, Stray-kun.” 

“Right. Um… I was badly bullied in middle school, even told to kill myself. I was physically assaulted daily in full view of the faculty. I was pushed out a window and wound up in a coma,” Izuku said.

“Damn. Fuck. Those are all bad. I want the teachers watching to be the lie,” Twice said. “Or the coma.”

“I could see the staff sitting idly by,” Magne replied. “I completely believe the suicide baiting. So it has to be the coma.”

“I concur,” Compress said.

“You got me,” Izuku admitted. “The coma was caused by me slipping off a fire escape.”

 The recruits gaped at him. “You were in a coma?”

“Yeah, I mean it was more than a year and a half ago. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Not a big deal?” Magne scoffed.

“Nah, it was only for a week. I don’t even have lasting brain damage from it.”

“Oh, well, in that case, it doesn’t matter,” Dabi said sarcastically. 

“It’s not the most traumatic thing that’s happened to me in the last two years.”

“Well, then what is the most traumatic thing?” Mustard asked. 

“Seeing a man’s brains blown out,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Damn,” Twice said. “That’s rough.”

“And I keep falling off buildings; six stories, that was the fire escape – a tree broke most of my fall –

 four stories – technically the building collapsed under me – and I was thrown off of a skyscraper but I did manage to get back up and help kick that bastard’s ass. I’ve been dosed with Blush. Had a friend murdered, and still have to work with the murderer. … I thought there was more,” Izuku said, scratching his head. 

“There are only five spots on the PTSD timeline worksheet,” Tomura reminded him. He was scrolling aimlessly while they filmed, to not interfere with their lighting or cross-contaminate the audio. “And you’re forgetting a lot of little traumas, like getting your shadow confettied by All Might.”

“Oh, yeah. I had forgotten about that.”

“I’m starting to regret taking this job,” Magne said, eyeing him warily.

Izuku laughed. “Oh, no. No. Only the All Might thing and the murdered friend thing are related to working with the League. This gig is pretty chill, most of the time.” 

They lapsed into silence.  

“Your life is tragic, Stray,” Tomura said, not looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, but I got you guys, now.” 

“Pathetic,” he replied with a smile.

“Love you too, Tomura.” Izuku raised his hands in a heart and winked at him. When Tomura just scoffed at him, he returned his attention to Twice. “Here, see if you like this and we’ll do a few more takes.”

He took the notebook and read the speech. “Uh, yeah, looks good.”

 

He repositioned a few times before he was satisfied. In profile with one knee up and the other leg dangling, he began languidly, “I’ve had people tell me, ‘You’re not living up to your potential.’ I’m potentially insane.” He growled, turning to stare straight into the phone. “You really want me living up to that?” He grinned widely and creepily, his bangs spilling over his eyes.

 

“Compress, Dabi, Spinner? Who’s next?” Izuku asked when Twice was satisfied.

“Not doing this shit,” Dabi said, sounding bored. His white tee had been swapped for a more fitted black one.

“Why not?”

“Do you think Stain would –”

“If I told him to? Yes,” Izuku interrupted. “He put out a whole ass manifesto on my say so.” He stretched. “If you don’t like something, that’s fine. This is supposed to be real, and a little fun. It's okay if you don’t want to engage that much. One introduction won’t kill you, and you can be an ass about it. Name, affiliation, that’s it. Maybe set something on fire for effect.”

“Fine.” Dabi grabbed a cigarette from Twice and stood too close to the camera as he lit it using his quirk. “I’m Dabi of the League of Villains.” He let the blue flame consume it entirely before flipping the camera off.

 

He pulled himself into lotus pose for the next one. “My body is a temple,” Tomura whispered. “A temple built of coffee and regret…” he spoke up, almost distractedly, letting his legs relax into a normal crossed position. “Maybe temple’s not the right word. Swamp! My body is a swamp.”

 

“Step right up, don’t be shy. Who’s up? Compress, Spinner?”

“What should I even say?” Compress asked. He was wearing one of  Kurogiri’s red button-ups under a black vest. “I do not exactly possess the lofty ideals of our dear leader.”

“It's fine,” Izuku assured him. “Say what you do believe in, find a quote you like, and elaborate on it. Just make it personal.”

“Personal, huh?” Compress murmured. After some thought, he stepped up to the camera and did his introduction in one take. “I am Mr. Compress of the League of Villains. Formerly a mere gentleman thief, I will strive to uphold both their ideals and that of my ancestors, fighting corruption and exposing injustices of those who claim to protect Japan’s citizens while profiting off of their strife.”

There was a smattering of applause from the League. 

“Don’t have lofty ideals, huh?” Izuku grinned at him. Some of the effect was lost due to his mask, but even the modulator couldn’t hide how pleased he sounded. “And damn was your delivery smooth.”

“Thank you. A good performer appreciates a good audience.” He bowed deeply.

 

“Just a quick PSA,” Tomura said in a casual tone, “if you find me offensive, then stop finding me.” Tomura flipped the phone off. He frowned and recorded the line again without the gesture. He tried it in a side lean, and with one knee up, with his arm resting on it. He gave a disgruntled sigh and scrolled through the sound on the app to see what other people had done.

He ended up getting a coffee mug as a prop and man-spreading on the crate. The wide-legged pose was actually from a series of photos about ‘sitting poses for girls’ and was considered a modeling pose. It did show off his shoes nicely.

 

“All right, Spinner, you’re up,” Izuku said, patting the crate they were using as a chair. 

Spinner was put in a sleeveless black muscle tee, which was snug on Izuku, so it was absolutely molded to his chest. After some private sneering by Izuku and Tomura, he was allowed to keep his Stain scarf. “I’m Spinner of the League of Villains. I was born in a real backwater place, stuck in the last century. Around there, I was known as the Lizard Freak. And I just accepted it! That whole time, my heart... was empty. You hear things like, ‘A real hero will always find a way for justice to be served,’ but that doesn’t extend to the countryside. There’s no glory, money, or fame to be had out there.”

“Fuck, you guys slay,” Izuku said after a few takes.

 

Tomura adjusted the light to a soft red glow and leaned back against the brick wall with his legs crossed in front of him. “Bad news,” he rasped, “you cannot make people treat you well.” He gave the camera a lopsided grin and leaned forward; His hair hung loose and caught the light ominously. “Good news: you can make them wish they had.”

 

“Kurogiri, you’re next. Then I’ll change the lights for me, Himiko, and the other kid.”

“Very well.” Kurogiri stood in front of the crate with his hands clasped behind him. His black silk button-up and ox-blood vest looked impeccable even in the harsh glow of the cheap ring light. “I am Kurogiri of the League of Villains.” He used his warp gate to summon a single thin wooden dowel. Grasping it in both hands, he snapped it in half. “Divided, a single man may destroy you.” He dropped the pieces and replaced them with a bundle of ten. He attempted to break the bundle. “United, you are a match for the whole world.”

 

Tomura draped himself over the crate he had been sitting on. With his hair hanging down off his face, his eyes were fully visible for the first time. After a few test shots, he changed the lighting to white to maximize the effect.

He whispered in a low ASMR-like tone, “If you don’t like me, that’s not my problem. It’s yours, bitch.”

 

“Alright, Himiko, Mustard? Who’s up next?” Izuku asked as he stepped up to adjust the lights again.

“I’m Mustard of the League of Villains. I’ve always been told, ‘Just believe in yourself and you can become a hero.’ I’m not much of a dreamer, so those false affirmations have never set well with me. It takes real skill and training to be a hero. Getting into a hero school is not easy, and middle schools neither prepare students for them nor their inevitable rejection. Society should not be so focused on heroes that it forgets its children and preparing them for the future.”

 

Tomura stood in front of the crate, leaning down at the phone. He adjusted the light as dim as he could get it without losing details, and picked a saturated red glow. He tried a deep growling tone first, then a soft purr, before settling on a distracted murmur. “I had no expectations for you, and you still managed to disappoint me.”

 

Toga went next, wearing a red off-shoulder cropped sweater over a sleeveless tee with a mock turtleneck. “I’m…. Stray, I… I don’t want to be Himiko Toga.”

“A name, yeah. Let’s see. Vampiress, Carmine…” He shook his head. “No, I think those give up too much information.”

“Ditto, copycat, twin, duplicate, body double, lookalike, imitation, knockoff, forgery,” Tomura listed off from his crate in the corner; everyone ignoring that he was still upside down.

“Paramour, mistress, dearest, angel, doll, mi amor, princess, hitomebore, koi no yokan.”

“Sappy,” Tomura said dismissively.

“Infiltrator?” Kurogiri suggested. “Secret agent, scout, covert?” 

“Oh, what about something like peregrine or errant?” Tomura said. “They’re synonyms for Stray. Errant is especially poignant, meaning to stray from the accepted course or standards. You could be Lady Errant, like a Knight Errant.”

“I don’t wanna be just a copy of Stray,” Toga decided. “Koi is cute! And I like the meaning of Koi no Yokan. Love at second sight. I will fall in love, not just shallow infatuation.”

 “Good,” Izuku agreed. “I love the person you are, Koi.” He leaned over and kissed her through his mask.

“Okay.” Toga took a deep breath. “I’m Koi no Yokan of the League of Villains. Life is too hard!” She gave a theatrical pout. “I want to make a world that’s easier to live in. When I was little, I was told to stop being me! To ignore my quirk. But that doesn’t work! When you shut your feelings away, they only grow inside! I just want to love and live in my way. I want to be like the people I love. I want to know them, and be known by them in return!”

It was rough, but heartfelt, and Izuku thought it was the right take to use, even after Toga did a few more to be sure.

 

Tomura turned up the brightness to normal levels and chose an almost clinical blue tint to the glow. He sat with his legs to the side, one resting over the other with his hands clasped over that knee. He spoke softly, almost gently, “Has someone ever spoken to you and you think to yourself, you’re underestimating me. This will be fun.” He laughed.

 

Izuku traded places with Toga. She did not miss the chance to grope him in his snug black and brass sweater. “I am Stray of the League of Villains. ‘Nothing is nobler than self-sacrifice’ is a lie. Adversity does not build character, the abuse did not make you kind, and your scars are not tiger stripes or badges of courage. Do not glorify pain, suffering, cruelty, and abuse. Abuse creates abusers, and darkness multiplies. Love, support, and kindness do as well. Being a light in the darkness is the most difficult thing anyone will ever do, but even if it’s just to light their own path, it is the only way out of the dark.”

After a few more takes to polish his introduction, he sat back down and started sorting files.

 

Tomura looked fondly at his minions, playing, laughing, and joking with each other. He turned to the phone with the same expression and said, “Some people look for a beautiful place; others make a place beautiful.”

 

Being naturally curious and analytical, it didn’t take long before Izuku got distracted and was doing more skimming than sorting. “Huh. That can’t be right.”

“What?” Magne asked.

“Shoto Todoroki’s blood type is O. But I know Endeavor’s is AB. I mean he could be cis-AB but the mutation is just so rare…” he began muttering to himself.

“What are the odds?” Tomura asked, walking over and stretching.

“Like one in a hundred thousand,” Izuku replied distractedly.

“Maybe he got his blood type from his mom?” Dabi suggested.

“No, that’s not how that works. Regardless of her blood type, Shoto can’t have Type O. If she’s anything but O, he could have any other blood type. If she is O, he could be A or B but not AB.”

“Fuck.” Fire flared from Dabi’s hands as he threw down the file he’d been working on. He stormed across the warehouse, swearing; his clothes singeing due to the heat. “That… fuck. Bitch.” He paced in the open space, ranting to himself. “All this time. All this time. That fucking bitch.”

Izuku realized why he recognized Dabi and decided he needed another DNA sample. Izuku stood up and cautiously approached the volatile fire user. He stopped a good six feet away and activated Search while he waited for Dabi to calm down.

Toya Todoroki, Quirk: Hellfrost – Able to generate and control fire and ice, additionally fifty percent of the body is resistant to high temperatures and fifty percent of the body is resistant to low temperatures, emitter, active, instantaneous use, flames last as long as they have a fuel source, ice lasts until it melts, concentration to control temperature and shape, accumulation through emotional duress increases variables, fire is generated from body and may extend out to one hundred and fifty feet, ice is generated within the body and has zero range, and S-tier strength.

 “Leave me alone.”

Izuku spoke softly, so the others were less likely to hear. “I should tell Tomura, but I think it will keep until you’re ready.”

Dabi whirled on him. He adopted a wide fighting stance with his right arm back, ready to throw fire or a powerful punch. “Fuck off, cat boy.”

For his part, Izuku maintained a casual demeanor, despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to run. He leaned against a charred crate and fought to keep from crossing his arms. He did not want to look defensive or aggressive. “I wonder how hard it will be to train that,” he waved vaguely at the stance, “out of you. It’d be a dead giveaway to any expert.”

“Mind your own goddamn business.”

“The League is my business,” he said firmly. “But yeah, now is not the time to deal with this. We have other shit going on. And we’re not ready to start targeting Endeavor.”

“Go to hell.”

“I think it might become a regular lunch date,” he mumbled. Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. He needed to control his mouth better.

“You want me to kick your ass.”

Izuku laughed and shook his head. “No. That’s cute. Really. But, calm down. The only thing that’s changed is now you know Shoto needs rescuing.”

“Rescuing?”

Izuku nodded. “Endeavor’s not stupid.”

Dabi’s eyes went wide. “He knows.”

“That could be how he justifies raising Shoto like a weapon.”

Dabi’s flames flickered out. “You're really not gonna tell him?” He gestured at Tomura, who was watching them intently with the rest of the League.

“It’ll keep. And he trusts my judgment.” Izuku smiled at Tomura who cocked his head before shrugging and turning back to his phone.

Chapter 90: Conversations

Izuku pressed his face into Kurogiri’s chest and inhaled deeply. Mist tickled his nose and filled his lungs. Toga was snuggled in on his other side, dozing lightly. His shadow was wrapped tightly around them. It was peaceful, and Izuku felt the ever-present tightness in his chest ease slightly.

Slowly, he activated Search again, trying not to be overwhelmed. He focused on Tomura. Tenko Shimura, Quirk: D̶̹̠̤͂e̶͖̠̲͓̒̑̋͠ć̵̮͖ạ̸̥̓̓͠ỳ̶͎̯̼̄  – Able to destroy anything the user touches, organic or inorganic, spreads through contact e̶͉͆v̷̝̇e̵̳͛n̶̖̔ ̷̙̇t̷̝̚h̴̘́r̷̾͜ȯ̸͎ų̶͗ǵ̶̦h̸̠͐ ̸̑ͅa̴̞̔d̵̠̍j̵̨͘ȃ̴̲c̶̜͌ẽ̶͕n̸̖͐t̴̹̅ ̴̠̆ö̷̗́b̷̥͗j̵̘̒ē̷̻c̶̭̔t̸̛̞ş̷̄, emitter, instant, spread speed is variable, concentration to omit objects from spread, accumulation through stress increases variables, spread range zero point five miles, and A-tier strength.

Izuku began to hyperventilate. 

Kurogiri tightened his hold. “Slowly. Focus on my breathing. Inhale, exhale slowly. It will be alright. You are safe. Inhale, exhale slowly. I’ve got you. You are grounded, you are secure. Inhale, exhale slowly.”

“Sorry. Search is just really intense.”

“Perhaps that is enough for tonight?”

“I’m trying to make heads or tails of the info it gives me, but there’s just too much,” he lied. “I wanna work on it more, but, yeah, I think that will have to wait until after the heart palpitations stop.”

“And you’ve gotten some sleep,” Toga said groggily. 

“Who is Tenko Shimura?” Ragdoll’s vestige asked.

Izuku didn’t respond. He couldn’t in front of Kurogiri. He… needed to sleep. “Yeah, good idea. I’m’a just rest here.” He pressed his face into Kurogiri’s chest again.

While it took ten minutes for him to calm down, and another fifteen to fall asleep, Izuku soon found himself on a flat featureless plain. The starry sky above him rippled with hazy formlessness. In the distance, the vestiges clustered together, most glaring at him.

Izuku ignored them. He gave a little wave to Yagi’s glowing golden form and turned to Ragdoll, Shadow Bind, and the Cat. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Uh, hey.”

“Who is Tenko Shimura?” 

“Tomura!” Izuku said. “It’s Tomura’s birth name! I have a name to search for! Oh my god. Oh my god! I have a chance! I have so many questions! Oh god. Please, help me. I’m drowning, Ragdoll. Your quirk is… the best worst thing. This will be so, so helpful. If you would just cooperate. Please.”

“Maybe try telling her the plan, kid,” the cat signed.

“Oh! Right! Yeah.” He scratched the back of his head embarrassedly. “How much do you guys know, living in my head?”

“We don’t,” Shadow Bind said bluntly. “I think, and you’d know more about this quirk shit than I would, that we exist in your quirk factor. So like, I’m literally your shadow, and the catboy is under your skin. Dollface might be in your head, given the nature of her quirk. But we only know things we see and hear when we’re active.”

“So, either when you manifest, or I use that quirk?”

“Basically. Sometimes we can do it without being visible to you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said contemplatively. “Oh. Okay, so, Ragdoll.” He made eye contact with the pro hero’s vestige. “I want to rescue Tomura.”

“You want to rescue a villain?”

“He was kidnapped at a young age and raised by that fucking eldritch abomination, an Igor-Frankenstein fusion, and a brainwashed Frankenstein’s monster made out of quirks. If he doesn’t need saving then who the fuck does?”            

“Okay, say I agree. What’s the plan?”

“Keep in mind, it’s a work in progress. I’m teaching Tomura to be a human, to be more independent from his abusive dad, leading him away from violence and toward social activism. And I’m kinda playing it by ear.”

“You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“I get by.”

“You are a child.” Ragdoll shook her head. The golden light that made up her form shimmered and flickered with the movement.

“Teen.”

“Yeah, okay.” The vestige took a steadying breath.

“So, I mean, I could use the help, advice, etcetera.”

“Okay. You should tell the Yuuei staff.”

“Ha. You have a great sense of humor.”

Ragdoll sighed. “I figured you’d be resistant to that. Look, I won’t help you be a villain, but I will help you take down the League. Right now, you’re running an undercover operation with no handler, no contacts, and no extraction options. That’s not easy. If you do want to resolve this by stopping the bad guys, that’s commendable. You’re up against the scariest villains I’ve ever encountered. He stole a part of me.”

Izuku frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t stop him.”

“Yet.” He wagged his finger at her. “So, what do I need to do to get your help?”

“You wanna give me a show of good faith?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, but it doesn’t work like that. You’ll have to earn my trust the hard way.”

Izuku sighed. “Okay. I’m not afraid of a little hard work. Where do I start? You’re not wrong that I’m out of my depth.”

“No using Search to hurt people, only help.”

“That’s fair, and I can hide what information I have access to until everyone is just used to me only having a specific subset of it.”

“You can use it to provide first aid to anyone.”

“Good. That’s mostly the idea anyway.” Izuku grinned. “Tell me how to use Search.”

“I never had to process Search like you do. I always just knew the information. When you use it, it seems to be processed through your visual cortex.”

“That’s interesting.”

“It feels like you should be able to look at a chart or something.”

Izuku held up his hand like he was holding a tablet. He focused on Tomura again. Text appeared, streaming medical information in front of him. “Oh, neat. This is much easier. But I wonder if other people would be able to see it.” 

Ragdoll shook her head. “I don’t think so, but you should try it around someone you trust to be sure.”

“I’ll wait until I’m alone, then.” He made a swiping gesture at the text, and it changed to a list of names. Not the people he was tracking, but rather the vast database of names that Ragdoll had accrued. 

He grinned a little ferally and focused on Sensei. The man had avoided him since Search was put in, but Ragdoll had seen him at some point. He slotted him in at the bottom of the list and began going over the listed information. His past injuries alone were worth the headache he knew he would have to endure.

Little pieces of information started popping up as Ragdoll explained what the medical jargon meant. Sensei was left-handed but had trained himself to be ambidextrous. He had a laundry list of quirks. His oxygen was chronically low. His blood pressure was high. His shoulder was deteriorating. He didn’t get enough sleep. He needed a snack and was a little iron deficient.

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut and held his head.

“That’s more like what I experienced,” Ragdoll told him. “But it takes longer for you to get overwhelmed. You should practice keeping the information in its visual form. It might cause eye strain, but it’s better than migraines.”

He nodded slowly.

“I think that’s enough for now. Get some rest.”

“Yeah. And thank you, Ragdoll.”

“You’re welcome, Cheshire.”

 

It was everything Izuku could do not to pull Search up in front of his mother. Their morning stretches were agony as his desire to check her stats warred with his need to keep the quirk under wraps. He helped her fix a quick but healthy breakfast; both of them added things they thought the other needed. Finally, the morning routine was completed. 

“Izuku, I wanted to talk to you about a couple of things. It could be a little uncomfortable. So, do you want the sex talk or the life balance talk first?”

“Life balance. I took sex ed at school, so we can skip that one.”

“Nice try, sweetie. Life balance first, then the sex talk. I’ll cover some aspects that school wouldn’t.” Inko smiled at him. “So, I think we’re doing well right now, but I want to set some goals and boundaries to keep it that way. Talking to Toki made me realize that I don’t see your friends a lot. I’d like him and Hiki to come over at least once a month. I want you to have your school friends over more often. I want you to have a hobby that doesn’t involve heroes at all. And, of course, dates with Shoto. I was thinking about two or three in two weeks. Lots of young people believe that a relationship means you are always with the other person, but in a healthy relationship, both partners are free to spend time with friends without their partner. They should have time to participate in activities they enjoy and pursue hobbies independently. Partners should respect one another’s privacy and not assume they have the right to passwords to email and social media accounts. Understand?”

Izuku stared at her. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. Work-life balance: a reduction of stress. Not hyper-fixating on Shoto. I think I can handle that. Momo was looking for a study group she didn’t have to lead, anyway, at least during finals. I think she’d still be up for it. And Mei needs to get out of the workshop more. Shinso is down to hang out.”

“That’s right. I’ll invite him to dinner tonight and pack him a couple of bentos for while we’re gone.”

“I still need to give them their souvenirs,” Izuku said.

“Okay. That was easier than I thought it would be. Now for the hard part. We’re not going to have one big talk about this and then never speak of it again. It’s going to be an ongoing conversation. I know this is a sensitive topic, but I want you to know the following: It is your body and your decision as to when and how you engage in sexual activity. What I want you to know is to please be safe and careful.” Inko paused. “I want you to be able to ask me anything; if you feel you can’t talk to me, talk to Inui-san, or another trusted adult. No matter how awkward or embarrassing, I will do my best to give you an answer. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll research it. I don’t want you to research this stuff on your own. Okay?”

“Okay…”

“Izuku? Is there something I should know?” she asked pointedly. 

“God no,” he blurted. “Err… that sounded bad.”

“It did,” Inko agreed.

“Okay. Well. Kuu gave me a crash course on consent and, um, some reading material.”

“Porn?”

“No. No. He’s not, he doesn’t. He’s ace. It was a couple of articles about consent and boundaries.” Izuku blushed furiously. 

Inko rubbed her hands over her face. “I want the names of these articles, Kuu’s number, and to meet him before we leave,” Inko said in an aggressively calm manner. “I understand that he was trying to be helpful. Do you understand why I’m concerned?”

“You’re worried Kuu might be grooming me, despite him not being into sex.”

“That is the biggest worry, yes,” she agreed, “but not the only one. I want to be sure you have comprehensive, medically accurate, and age-appropriate sex education. But, I’ll try to withhold judgment until I’ve talked with him.”

“Well, medically accurate was covered at school. Kuu didn’t get, like, graphic or anything. Just how my kinda being a pushover would intersect with relationships and cause problems. You know, peer pressure stuff and waiting until I’m ready.”

“Did he talk to you about how you’ll know if you’re ready?”

“A little. He did say if I have doubts, I’m not ready, and if I can’t say the thing, I’m definitely not ready.”

Inko cocked her head.

“It’s a strategy for shy kids. Like if your partner wants to make out, but you can’t even say ‘yes, I’d like to make out,’ then you shouldn’t do it because you can’t talk about it openly and honestly.”

She nodded. “That’s a good way to explain it.”

Izuku chuckled. “Everyone forgets that Kuu raised Toki, and he works, albeit unofficially, with teens. It may be unorthodox, but he does know what he’s doing.”

“Will he have a problem meeting with me?”

Izuku sighed. “No. I mean, generally, he doesn’t like to get involved with the parents, but it’s rare for one of us to have a reasonable and/or loving parent, that’s sober, so really you’re treading new ground here.”

“I see.” Inko was quiet for a long time. “If Hiki ever needs a place to stay…”

“That’s really sweet, Mom. I’ll let her know.” He moved to stand.

“You’re still not getting out of this,” Inko said.

“Dang it.”

She chuckled. “Okay, so… If, when – before, before you are … having any kind of sex, you will need condoms. I would rather you have them and not need them than need them and not have them. After we get back from I-island, I’ll start leaving a box in the medicine cabinet, and we’ll change them out regularly, as they do expire. Expiration dates are printed on the package. Don’t use it if it is dry, sticky, or stiff. Get a new one. They need to be stored in a cool, dry place where they won’t get creased or dried out. Not in a pocket or wallet. And never use oil-based lubricants like lotion, massage oil, mineral oil, petroleum jelly, or baby oil because they can break down the condom. And remember, you cannot rely on your partner being the one responsible for protection. It is your responsibility.” Inko took a deep breath and looked at her phone.

Izuku was comforted by the fact that she had notes. It was both a sign that she was serious about the subject but it also meant that she was nervous about it. It was oddly nice not to be the only one that was uncomfortable.

“Any questions so far?”

“No. That all seems straightforward and factual.”

Inko nodded. “When we first ‘stock up,’ there will be a demonstration on how to properly use a condom. It will be awkward. It will not be the last time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh, damnit. I almost forgot to cover dental dams.”

“Uhh…”

“Dental dams are latex or polyurethane sheets used between the mouth and vagina or anus during oral sex. Same material as condoms, same storage, and oil-based breakdown issues.”

While blushing, Izuku nodded. “Okay, good to know. No questions at this time.”

“Okay. Good. We touched on consent a little. Always ask for consent. If the person you are with doesn’t want it, stop. This includes all romantic overtures: kissing, holding hands, dirty talk, oral sex, everything. Even just sharing your fantasies and other romantic or sexually charged conversations.”

Izuku nodded. 

“There’s no single right answer when it comes to sex. What matters is that you feel good about the choices you make. If you feel you are mature enough to share your body with someone else, then you should be mature enough to be able to talk to that person openly and agree to be respectful and responsible with each other.” Inko checked the outline on her phone again. “How do you feel about what we talked about so far? Are there any aspects that are confusing or worrying to you?”

“Nope. So far, so good.”

“Okay. Are any of your friends having sex?”

“Not my school friends that I’m aware of,” Izuku replied. “But Toki is twenty, so I kinda assume he is or has. Hiki’s been with guys before, but she’s not right now because those all ended badly.”

Inko nodded. “How would you feel if you asked someone out and they turned you down?”

“I mean I’d be bummed out, but I’d get over it. Huh. I’ll have to put that on the list.”

“List?”

“Oh, typical high school experiences. The hero course is wild, so some of us are taking steps to make sure we get the normal experiences to be well-rounded. Rejection is going on the list.”

“That’s… interesting. What are some things on your list?”

“Study sessions, movie dates, karaoke, hanging out at the mall.”

“Those all sound fun.” Inko smiled indulgently at him. Then she turned a serious look at him. “What would you do if you were at your friend’s house and they turned on turn on pornography on the television?” Inko asked.

“I’m not sure. That would be kinda weird. Probably ask them to turn it off. I mean if they wanted to show me a specific thing, like really funny dialogue, I’d watch that, but I wouldn’t watch sex stuff with a friend.” 

“Good, good. Now some porn is okay, as long as everything shown is consensual and safe. You limit time watching porn, studies show about a half hour per week is typical, among non-distressed non-compulsive viewers. Overdoing it leads to people being less motivated to do things in their lives and less responsive to sexual stimuli, including real-life partners. It also leads to viewing more graphic images for them to have a sexual response. To avoid becoming porn dependent to get off, vary your repertoire. Don’t use it all the time. Use fantasy, read erotica, and look at photos. When you are in a relationship, and it reaches a physical stage, watching porn together can be a fun way to spice things up. Talk about each others’ porn preferences. Try not to judge what gets them off in private, but if it’s something you want no part of, politely decline and pivot to something else you can share.”

“That’s really open-minded of you.”

“I want you to have a healthy relationship with sex, a part of that is masturbation, and that includes porn. And that leads us to kinks. Having kinks is a normal expression of sexuality. Finding out what turns you on should be a fun experience.” Inko checked her notes again. “Okay, what would you do if you got a girl pregnant?”

“Um. Well. I’d support her decision, of course. And financially. Oh, and with my quirk, I could take care of the kid at night, so she can sleep. Assuming she decides to keep it.”

“What are your thoughts on adoption and abortion?”

“I haven’t really thought about it. I’m not morally opposed to abortion, but I would prefer to raise my kid if that happened. I mean I’d be super careful to prevent it if I’m ever with a girl, and again I’d support her decision because it’s her body.”

“That’s very mature of you. I’m not sure I’d like the idea of someone so young raising a child.”

“Hey, me neither. Especially considering my career choice.”

“Oh. I hadn’t even considered that.”

“Yeah, I’m going to be extra careful not to make an oopsy baby. You’re not ready to be a grandma. And I’d want to be established before having kids. Like, at least five years. And if I’m with Shoto, or another guy, I’d try to adopt when/if we wanted kids.”

“Good.” Inko took a deep breath. “Okay. That was some heavy stuff. Do you want to take a break?”

“I’d rather power through if you’re up to it.”

“I’ve had a kid, this is nothing. So, do you know what an orgasm is?”

“Um, yes. A climax of sexual excitement, characterized by feelings of pleasure centered in the genitals and, in males, experienced as an accompaniment to ejaculation.”

“That was very textbook.”

“Well, yeah, but I still know what it means.”

“Do you know what a vibrator is and what it’s used for?”

“Yes. Mostly to, uh, bring someone to orgasm.”

Inko nodded. “Is there anything you have heard around school that you’re not sure what it means?”

“No. I have looked up a couple of terms on Urban Dictionary.”

“What ones?”

“CBT, figging, and docking; none of which sound appealing in the slightest,” he replied.

Inko raised an eyebrow at him.

“I just wanted to know what they meant without having to ask anyone.”

“I can understand that. Did you hear these terms at Yuuei or Aldera?”

“Aldera.”

“Of course,” she sighed. “How do you feel about intimacy, love, and relationships?”

“That’s a deep, well, three deep subjects. Um, intimacy is feeling closeness and interconnectedness with another person, in romantic, familial, and platonic relationships. I know love is different, but I can’t articulate how. It’s kind of a squares and rectangles thing. Romantic, familial, and platonic relationships all have both, but the love is of different types, and the intimacy is of different amounts.  Intimacy is needed to build love, trust, and mutual respect. All of which goes into building any relationship. And in a healthy relationship, both partners should be willing to listen to the other person’s point of view, but should also feel free to speak up when something’s bothering them, and you will work together to solve conflicts.” Izuku paused. “Did that make sense?”

“I understood well enough,” she assured him. “Do you expect the same standards of behavior of yourself as of your partner?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’d discuss the particular behavior because different things might bother us, but the standards would be equal.”

“How would you respond if you were dating someone and they wanted to have sex but you didn’t want to?”

“No is a complete sentence,” Izuku said. “But I’d probably also call someone, you, a friend, or if I was really uncomfortable, Yamada-sensei or Yagi-san.”

“Why those two?”

“They own cars, so they could come pick me up quickly.”

“Oh. That’s very pragmatic of you,” she said. “What if they told you not doing it meant you didn’t love them?”

“I’d have to break up with them. I promised Hiki.”

Inko blinked at him. “Is there a particular reason she had you make that promise?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about someone else’s trauma, but yeah, obviously.”

“That’s an understandable rule,” Inko said. “Seriously, if she needs a place to stay…”

“I’ll let her know. She has a place, and she can stay with Kuu – he has a spare room – but I’m sure she’ll appreciate both the option and the fact that it’s a female offering it. It’s an added layer of safety. We love and respect Kuu, but at the end of the day, Hiki is a girl, and that comes with a lot of added risks.”

Inko smiled sadly at her son. “I hate that the world is like this, but I’m so proud of you for understanding.”

“I hate that meeting par is something to be proud of. This is where everyone should be starting out,” Izuku replied.

“I know, baby. I know,” she said. “Okay, this was a lot, so, do you want to veg out at home while I run errands or hang out with friends?”

“I’ll call Shinso and Mei to see if their available, if not I think I’ll stay home.”

“Alright. Since I’ll be out for a few hours, feel free to order lunch if you’d like, but I’ll grab something to make for dinner.”

“Katsudon?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Depends on what deals they’re having, but maybe.”

Izuku nodded. “Reasonable.” He pulled his phone out and texted his friends.

Inko shook her head. “I’ll never understand why you kids prefer text to talking.”

“There’s a written record to refer to if there’s a misunderstanding, and we have a fully developed tone indication system, plus a massive library of emotion markers. It’s like a whole language unto itself,” he replied.

“Huh. I mean, I know how to use all of that, but I just never thought in that way,” she said.

Izuku shrugged. “At least you don’t misuse periods and ellipses. That is anxiety-inducing. Period at the end of a single sentence text, what did I do to make you angry? Ellipses between or at the end of sentences, what aren’t you saying? I love Dad’s folks, but, yeah, I’d rather they call.”

Inko laughed. It was a light-hearted sound that did a lot to clear the awkwardness of their conversation away.

“Ah, sweet, they’re both free today. We’ll meet up at the beach, and probably find a café from there. I’ll leave my location on, but also text you wherever we go. Sound good?”

“That sounds fine, sweetie. You have a good day, and I love you.”

“You, too; love you, too.”

Chapter 91: Friends and Families

The clear, cerulean blue sky stretched out overhead as Izuku waited for his friends at the top of the stairs to Dagobah Municipal Beach Park. The dull chatter of young families blended with the crashing waves. The scents of human sweat, salt air, and frying meat whipped delicately on the gentle breeze. It wasn’t properly hot yet, but it was going to be in a few hours.

Izuku, in a pair of green khaki board shorts and a white tee shirt, was practically vibrating by the time Mei and Shinso showed up at the Beach Park. He was glad when Shinso said the beach was too crowded and they started to discuss where to go instead since it was too early to eat.

“We could hang out in my workshop,” Mei suggested. Her light blue cut-offs and cream tank top with a faded gear-shaped logo were a stark contrast to the usual Yuuei support course coveralls she normally wore.

“No,” the boys said in unison.

“Library?” Shinso asked. He fidgeted with the hem of his water-colored palm leaf print button-up. He’d paired the somewhat loud shirt with khaki shorts.

Izuku thought about it while Mei frowned. “Eh. It’s an option. Park?”

“Crowded,” Shinso said dryly. “Museum?”

“Boring,” Mei whined.

“You think anywhere you can’t make babies is boring,” Izuku pointed out.

An older woman in white capris and a floral top looked startled at him.

Izuku narrowed his eyes at her until she turned away.

Shinso slowly blinked at him.

“Hey,” Izuku said, “I like you too, but you made it clear you’re not interested if I’m with someone, so you’re not allowed to flirt with me.”

“Huh?”

“You slow-blinked me.”

“Ah.” He scratched the back of his head. “I can see how that’d look. I mean it platonically. Sorry.”

“Well, that’s okay, then.”

“Weirdoes,” Mei said affectionately. “Bike rental.”

“Interesting,” Izuku replied.

“Hmm. Worth considering,” Shinso agreed. “Still a question of where we would go.”

“Airpark.”

“The port? We could ride the Ferris wheel.”

“Airpark would be less crowded,” Shinso said.

Mei grinned.

“Okay,” Izuku agreed.

Towers of concrete and glass cast shadows across the busy streets as they made their way to the nearest bike rental. Most of the buildings were no more than six stories tall, but the downtown area was a clump of office buildings and apartment complexes that glittered in the summer sun. People milled about like teeming ants; seemingly disorganized and directionless, but in reality, a precise dance of stop-and-go traffic mixed with tourists and window shoppers. They were headed toward the city center and would ride across town, through the shopping district. 

Izuku activated Search and plugged Mei into the list. He took a look at her vitals and quirk. Neither she nor Shinso reacted as they chatted about the Airpark. The display was only visible to him. Izuku relaxed. His secrets were safe for another day.

He split his attention between the conversation and the displayed information. He organized the display on the left side of his face and tried to only read it with that eye, like a helmet-mounted or monocle display for a pilot. He tried to divide the information into different ‘screens’ to help keep from being overwhelmed. The ‘main’ screen was their vitals and injuries, next was chronic conditions and quirk information, and a third was for the other miscellaneous information Search was throwing at him.

“That’s mostly your interpretation of other facts. Like you know several ways to determine handedness, so you’re just cataloging that as one data point,” Ragdoll said.

Izuku was walking behind his friends, so he risked giving her a curt nod. He smiled as Mei animatedly began telling them about her favorite exhibits and activities at the Airpark. The trio each paid to rent a bike, and they had a leisurely ride to the Airpark, stopping to take pictures periodically. Izuku was keeping up with the conversation better than he had on I-island, but his distraction still did not go unnoticed.

“You okay, Izuku?” Shinso asked warmly.

“Yeah, just, you know, stress and anxiety catching up to me.”

“Do you want to go home?” Mei asked cautiously.

“No,” he replied fondly. “You guys are recharging my batteries. This is a good event. I need this, Mei, darling.”

“Good,” she replied. “Let’s go, before it gets too crowded for Hitoshi.”

 

As they approached the Japan Air Self-Defense Force Mustafa Public Information Building, the first thing they could see was a full-sized replica of a Zero in the roundabout. Behind that, the front of the building was designed to look like a massive open hangar; the face was almost completely glass. The curved roof was crisp white aluminum, and the sides were plain grey concrete. To the left was a small picnic area with several tables and a small snack stall. On the right were the bike racks and small vehicle parking. 

There was a reasonable flow of people, as it was free to the public and air-conditioned, but it was by no means crowded. Their footsteps echoed off the bare walls as they entered. A fleet of aircraft was spread out around the hangar; five to a row and organized by purpose. Older planes were hanging from the rafters, safe from even accidental touch. The public was allowed to sit in about a fifth of the aircraft on display. 

One of the tour guides waved them over. “Mei!”

“Seira!” Mei dashed over to the guide. “How was your trip?”

“Good, good,” the elderly trans woman said as she hugged Mei. "Kyushu was lovely. We hiked both the Aso caldera and the Kuju mountain ridge.”

The boys looked a little startled by that.

“Not on the same day,” she assured them. “I took so many pictures. We had dinner at Teruzushi. The chef was amazing. He’s got a big round head like an egg; reminded me so much of my late husband.” She sighed, but it was equal parts wistful and happy. “So, who are your handsome friends?”

“This is Hitoshi and Izuku. I’ve told you about them.”

“Oh, Yes! Your favorite guinea pigs. How are you two holding up against our little tornado?”

“She’s great,” Izuku said, while Shinso replied, “Mostly unharmed.”

“Coward,” “Reckless,” the boys teased each other. 

Mei grinned ear to ear.

Seira laughed. “You boys want to try out the flight simulator?”

“Yes.” 

“Well, I have a group that’s mostly kids. If you three watch for runners and stragglers, I’ll let you have extra time.”

“Sure.” 

The trio was introduced to a large family. The grandparents were a little hesitant to trust the teens, but Seira vouched for them. “Mei is my granddaughter, and the boys are her very close friends. Besides, I’m bribing them.”

The tour was normally a good forty minutes, and with a dozen kids asking questions and shouting, it took even longer. The adults all wanted pictures in front of every plane, helicopter, and other flying vehicles, as well as in the cockpits of all the ones open for sitting in. Izuku lifted Mei on his shoulders, and she took the pictures with practiced efficiency with any phone camera handed to her. He also lifted the uncle who wanted ‘real film’ pictures of his twins.

“You’re not supposed to use your quirk in public, young man.”

“I’m not. I don’t have a strength quirk. It’s a rapid healing quirk,” Izuku corrected. “So I recover from a workout faster, and with all the same benefits.”

“He won’t drop you, my guy,” Shinso said, patting the man’s leg.

“Right,” Izuku agreed. “On to the next one!”

“Let me down!”

“Okay,” he crouched, “But carrying you is faster.”

“I weigh a hundred and fifty pounds! That can’t be comfortable.”

“One sixty-two,” Izuku corrected, as he subtly herded the man along with his party. 

The family laughed and chatted as they continued through the museum. Once out of the hangar, the group was more expedient, though it still took time to get pictures of each grandchild. Finally, they finished the exhibits and parted ways with the family as they settled down to watch one of the Zentenshu theater films. 

The three of them each got twenty minutes in the flight simulator. Izuku pumped Mei for information on the heads-up display while it was Shinso’s turn. He appreciated the time in the helmets and Seira’s insights to improve his split attention and use of Search. 

As soon as the simulator was closed on Mei, Seira pulled her phone out. “Want to see baby pictures of Mei?”

“We shouldn’t,” Izuku said.

“We really shouldn’t,” Shinso agreed.

They crowded in to look at her photos. Most of them showed a pink-haired toddler in a tiny replica flight suit, but some showed her with a purple-haired man with bronze skin and yellow eyes or a woman with long flowing pink hair and sparkling sea foam green eyes. Her skin was pale with yellow-green undertones. Mei was a mishmash of their colorings and features.

“Oh my god, she’s so cute.”

“Our little wrench head was adorable.”

“Yeah, her dad started working here when she was three. The wife worked too, as they were buying a house. They couldn’t afford daycare, so we took turns watching her here. I’m proud of how far they’ve come, you know.  Now he’s one of our top mechanics, and he rebuilt the F-35 Lightning II that’s in the center of the hangar,” Seira told them. “I do think of her as my grandchild. I never had children, but Yukari and his family make me feel complete. Mei is very important to me, and this is the first time she’s brought friends here. So, don’t break her heart, okay?”

“We won’t, ma’am,” Shinso said.

“Perish the thought,” Izuku agreed. “I didn’t have any friends before Mei and Hitoshi, either.”

“And you’re sure you two can handle her? “

“I can handle Mei at her most chaotic,” Izuku reassured her, “and Shinso’s been handling me pretty well; he just needs a little more confidence around loud noises.”

“How am I the sensitive one when you have the anxiety disorder?”

“Ten years of explosion?”

“Right, it’s the trauma.”

“So, who handles Hitoshi-kun?”

“Huh. We haven’t yet. But Mei and I are stubborn and inventive; we’ll figure it out when it happens.”

“In the woods,” Shinso said quietly, “it was you. I kept going because I knew you’d never let me live it down if I played damsel for Kaminari. I can handle both of my little goblins. They’re not so bad, really. Izuku is equal parts sunshine and pure insanity. Mei is creative, inventive, and so driven. The trick is just getting them to focus. Of course, then you risk them hyper-focusing.”

Seira laughed. “That’s true.”

“I’m starving,” Mei announced as she hopped out of the simulator with practiced ease.

“There’s a restaurant on the roof, right?” Shinso asked.

“And a gift shop,” Mei confirmed.

 

The Sky Lounge was an open-air affair with a small grill, mostly used for burgers and toasting sandwiches. There were prepackaged snacks as well. Mei picked up an obscene amount of Mustafa Base senbei crackers and four model jets she said she didn’t have yet. Izuku bought a few shirts: a fitted black tee with the Japan Air Self-Defense Force logo over the right breast, an oversized gray one with the Mustafa Base logo, and a navy hoodie with the Self-Defense Force roundel and a huge pocket. Shinso grabbed a couple of little phone charms: an enamel JASDF logo, a silver pilot’s badge, and a chibi Lightning II.

After ordering lunch at the restaurant, they sat next to the wall, so they could watch the planes at the Mustafa Base take off and land while they ate. Izuku let Mei and Shinso sit down first and sat next to Shinso. He preferred the ten-foot tall glass wall at the National Museum of Nature and Science, but the waist high concrete barrier was perfectly safe. Really.

Izuku waited until everyone was done with their meal before he pulled out the DSRs and other I-island souvenirs he’d gotten for them.

“This is too much!” Mei exclaimed as she clutched the matte finish coral pink hand-held with metallic yellow I-island logo and trim to her chest. “Izuku-kun! I-I can’t accept this!”

“It’s custom,” he countered. “You can’t turn it down.”

“It’s expensive!” Mei shouted. “Power socket, microphone wire, speakers, power flex cable, trigger spring, and pin set are all five hundred yen a pop. Full set of housing screws, power switch, IR receiver, headphone port, top ribbon socket, Bottom ribbon socket, Feet and screw cover set, battery interface connector, and four-pin touch screen connector port each six hundred and forty yen. Wifi PCB board module, microphone, internal wifi antenna, and cartridge reader are seven hundred and eighty each. Nine hundred twenty for the micro memory card socket and IR Infrared module. Left and right shoulder triggers, wireless card, and power ribbon cable, one thousand yen each. At least two thousand for the housing shell. Twelve hundred for the barrel shaft hinges. One thousand three hundred and fifty for the volume control ribbon, screen, and speaker interface board. Two thousand seven hundred for speaker ribbon cable and camera flex cable. Eleven thousand five hundred for the camera. Eighty-five thousand yen for the touch screen. No, double that, there are two screens,” Mei babbled.

“Not to mention that the I-island addition is all upgraded,” Shinso added dryly.

“It really is too much,” she insisted.

Shinsho held his matte purple DSR with transparent trim and logo up to inspect it. “Cool. Can I get YouTube on this thing?”

“Yeah,” Izuku replied, “and other streaming services. I think there’s a free one provided by I-island, but the content is produced in-house, so it’s mostly educational and documentaries. Oh, and tourism films.”

“Still interesting.”

He nodded. “Apparently, All Might got a pair for Aizawa and Yamada, so now they’re playing Animal Crossing with my mother.”

“That’s gotta be fun.”

“It’s not a problem yet.” Izuku shook his head. “I’m a little torn between being anxious that everything is changing so fast and glad that Mom seems happier now that there are more people in our lives.”

“Try to focus on the happy bits,” Shinso encouraged. 

Izuku nodded. “I am grounded and in control on this rooftop.”

“Oh, shit.”

“No.” Izuku reached over and grabbed his shoulder, preventing him from standing. “I’m fine. It’s only three stories. I can handle this. I was doing four with no problems before the tower. I gotta get back to that.”

“I mean it’s only been a week.”

“True. So, no worries. I can do this. And it’s not a big deal if I’m a bit agitated.”

“Heights are bothering you,” Mei said. “Would you like some support gear about it?”

He grinned at her. “We can discuss it. I don’t have any pressing need that I’m aware of, but I know it’s how you express concern.”

“Lift assist?”

“Fall control.”

“Mitigating his panic attacks,” Shinso added.

“Thunder sweater,” Mei replied.

“Eh?”

“My cousin has a dog that’s scared of thunder, so they put her in a firm, weighted sweater to keep her calm during storms. It would add weight, but also padding. The compression could be adjusted a bit with snaps or velcro. It’s low-tech, but it would also add another layer to your instant disguise feature. A sleeveless tee, or vest over a tee, with a backpack.” She nodded. “Very doable. I could have it done by morning if Power Loader wasn’t limiting the number of items I can submit over break.”

“It’s cool, Mei. We can add it after classes start back up.” Izuku took a deep breath. “There was one other thing I wanted to let you know. It’s about my quirk. There’s, um, there’s an underlying cat-like mutation. I can smell pheromones. Not enough to be useful, but enough to potentially give me pack bonding issues.”

“The filter I installed on your face mask should solve that as long as you remember to use it.”

“You know I love you, Mei darling?”

She blinked at him. “That was the wrong answer, wasn’t it?”

“No, Mei, that was the perfect answer,” Shinso replied. “It tells him you’re here for him, and while you worry about his safety, you’re secure in our friendship.”

“I still can’t accept this,” she said.

“Sure you can,” Izuku said. “It’s a gift. Besides, we need two more native fruits in Animal Crossing.”

“Dork,” Shinso said.

Mei smiled at them, a mix of shy and mischievous. “So, what other cat features do you have?”

Izuku shrugged. “I can barely taste sweet things anymore, but creamy is good, and water. Oh my god, you have no idea. I can’t describe it; water has a taste. And I can see better in the dark, but not very far. I lose depth of color, but gain details.”

“I’ll put a camera in your mask, to snag suspect pics. Nothing too intensive. It needs to be lightweight and discreet.”

“That’d be nice.”

“I wouldn’t mind something similar,” Shinso said. 

“Aw, feeling left out?” Mei cooed. “I’ll make babies for you too, Hitoshi.”

He grinned. “I’m counting on it.”

 

The trip to Mei’s house was fun and easy. Izuku spent most of it flipping through his list of thirty-four people and keeping up with Mei about the modifications she wanted to make to their hero outfits. 

“I think you should change to Hitoshi’s color scheme. It fits your theme better.”

“True, but Kacchan would never agree.”

“So?” She asked bluntly. 

“Mei, don’t be rude,” an older woman with long flowing pink hair and sparkling sea foam green eyes scolded. She was watering a breathtaking rose bush despite it having an automatic watering system set up.

“She’s not,” Izuku replied. “Hi, I’m Izuku Midoriya.” 

“Hitoshi Shinso,” Shinso added dully.

“Don’t let her bully you into –”

“Yeah, no. We asked her for her input,” Izuku said. “She’s the only reason my hero costume isn’t a hot mess.”

Mei giggled. “Now it’s neither hot nor a mess. Unless you think I should install an internal cooling unit? Or heating? I could integrate temperature regulation with the thunder sweater…”

“Anyway,” he turned back to Mei’s mother, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hatsume-san.” He bowed.

“Likewise,” a masculine voice boomed from the open garage. “Mei’s told us a lot about you two.” Her father stepped out where they could see him. He was taller than Mei by at least three feet but had a very similar build. His dark purple dreadlocks were pulled into a high ponytail. He and Mei had the same eyes with the same inner fire. “Don’t mind Ayame. She’s desperately trying to keep the neighbors from running us out of the neighborhood.”

Izuku chuckled. “I guess judgey neighbors would make anyone a little cranky. But really, Mei isn’t a problem, a force to be reckoned with, sure, but she –”

“Means well,” Ayame said in a tone that suggested she repeated it often.

“Successfully redesigned my hero costume once already and was just making suggestions for future upgrades that I will need as my skills and quirk develop,” Izuku corrected firmly. “I’m sure it was difficult to rein her in when she was younger, but she’s in her element now. She can be herself and a functional member of the hero community. She’s…”

“Awesome,” Shinso said. “We made these noise cancellation communicators, and everyone in the class has adopted them. And we had fun at the Airpark.” 

“She got us extra time with the flight helmets!”

“Mei!” Ayame scolded. “Yukari, she’s bothering the staff again!”

He chuckled. “Mei, I told you not to take advantage of my position.”

“I didn’t, Dad, Seira had us help herd a big family through the tour.”

“She grew up running riot in the Airpark,” Yukari explained. “I’ve worked there her whole life.”

Izuku nodded. “Yeah, Seira-san mentioned that.” 

“I hope she didn’t read you two the riot act,” Mei said.

“Nah, just showed us some embarrassing baby pictures,” Shinso replied.

Mei cocked her head. “None of the pictures Seira has of me are embarrassing.”

“So, ah. I gave Mei and Hitoshi some souvenirs from my trip to the I-island expo,” Izuku said. 

Her father raised his eyebrows.

“The invite was last minute, I didn’t even have time to tell them I was going. A family friend came into some tickets unexpectedly. I got them each a DSR. They are custom. There are no returns. I paid for them with the money I earned at an after-school job,” he explained in a rush.

“That’s expensive,” her father said.

“It’s too much,” Ayame gasped.

Izuku shrugged. “I got one myself and one for my mom. I have a couple of other friends who picked them up, too. Kaminari used his wages from working the expo to get one. It’s not that much more than the base model.”

“How much are they exactly?” Ayame asked firmly.

“Like fifty thousand yen. I didn’t customize them too much, due to time constraints, but –”

“Try ninety thousand,” Yukari interrupted. 

Shinso gave a low whistle. “Damn man. I knew it was a lot, but that’s …”

“It’s really not. The I-island colors are more, but you guys got standard colors. So, it’s more like seventy,” he confessed sheepishly. “And some of that is extra memory and games.”

“Still, it…”

“If it makes you uncomfortable…”

“Nah, just don’t make it a regular thing. I don’t wanna get spoiled,” Shinso stated. “You and Mei are too generous.”

“You act like you’re not the same way.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are,” Mei said. “You just don’t know what you have to offer us.”

“Yet!” Izuku piped up.

“Sure.” Shinso scratched the back of his head. “Hey, help us set them up. Maybe I’ll pull for your fruit.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Mei whipped hers out. “Yes! Collect all the fruit.”

“Oh! It’s pink,” Ayame exclaimed. “Mei usually doesn’t like pink.”

“I didn’t know what either of them would like, so I kinda just picked something that reminded me of them.”  He looked at Mei. “If you don’t like it –”

She hugged him. “Izuku-kun, I love it! You made good aesthetic decisions all by yourself. It’s not like they had a leather and steel steampunk shell lying around! This is … I like it.”

“Besides, the coral pink has a nice orange tint to it; it’s more peachy than pink,” Shinso said.

“It was our wedding colors,” Ayame said. She held her hand up for the boys to see her wedding ring. There was a small rose gold band engraved with seashells and a little gold ring with a carved pink coral crab. “My mother hates that they’re so non-traditional.”

Izuku nodded, several things falling into place for him. “I guess we’ll have to look at some wedding photos while we’re here. It is a gorgeous set.”

“Do you like the ocean or the beach?” Shinso asked.

“The beach,” Ayame replied.

“Cool. Izuku helped with a project to clean up Dagobah beach last year.”

“Oh?” she asked, leading them into the house.

Chapter 92: Blurring the Lines

His new benefactors were fond of lists. He wondered just how long it would take them to piece this list together. His reasoning was simple. The man was, by his own admission, unworthy. He had stood idly by, and what had the boy said before the news feed cut off? Ah, Yes. Stood by and helplessly watched as a child nearly died.

The tall, skinny man with orange hair that Stain stalked across the city wore a beige pinstriped baseball uniform with shoulder pads, white knee-high socks, and large orange and green shoes. His face was covered with a plain white umpire's mask. He had a large gray, orange, and green gauntlet to accommodate his quirk. The hero was impact resistant; fortunately, that resistance did not extend to cuts.

“You stand idle while innocents suffer! You are unworthy of the title hero!”

“Hey, I’m doing my best! I’m no All Might, but I’m not idle!”

The hero fought; Stain would not say bravely because he could see the fear in his eyes. The impact threw sparks when blade met gauntlet as the pair danced around the alley Stain had ambushed him in. Deep gouges accumulated on the metal catcher’s mitt as Stain slashed fiercely, pressing ever forward. His target gave ground with every strike. While he could have ended the battle sooner, he lost himself in the sweet song of steel echoing off concrete.

He was able to take his time and catch his breath as he watched the rich deep red pool around the hero as he gasped and gurgled and finally lay still. The blood leached into his hero costume lending the drab thing some much needed crimson.

He missed the Bronze Age suit.

 

The rice was already in the steamer. Inko had gotten a good deal on octopus and figured they could have Katsudon tomorrow. She whipped up a small cucumber salad with toasted sesame seeds, seaweed, and thinly sliced octopus. When that was done, she got out the electric Takoyaki maker. They had mostly cut out fried foods when she joined Izuku on his meal plan, so Takoyaki was a rare treat now.

Beside her, Izuku made Miso soup and Gyoza. Inko watched as her son cubed tofu and finely diced garlic, chives, ginger, and cabbage. The diced vegetables were mixed with ground pork, sesame oil, and soy sauce. Then, he stuffed the premade dough rounds she’d bought. The miso soup was simmering, Inko turned the Takoyaki, and Izuku put the Gyoza in the pan to crisp the bottoms. Finally, he poured some water into the pan and put a lid on it to steam the tops.

Everything was on the table when Izuku got a text. She only saw it for a second before he stuffed his phone back in his pocket, but Inko thought that it was dark grey instead of black.

“Ah, Kuu says he’s almost here.”

“That’s good,” Inko replied. “I’m looking forward to his visit. It’s long past time I met him.”

Izuku smiled a bit sheepishly, but said nothing. He was bouncing on his toes as he waited for the doorbell to ring. Kuu arrived exactly at eight o’clock. Izuku opened the door and gave the same subdued “Hey” he had greeted Toki and Hiki with.

“Hey,” Kuu returned. He gave Inko a little wave when he spotted her, and greeted her with a casual “Hey,” as well.

“Hey,” she replied somewhat awkwardly.

Kuu had overlapping teeth that obscured his jaw line causing his mouth to open wider than seemed necessary to speak. His eyebrows were set close to his eyes, giving his brow a naturally furrowed look and he had an intense gaze but his stance was casual and relaxed. His shaggy, tawny hair didn’t help, adding to his severe countenance.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” he said as he stepped in. He patted Izuku on the shoulder as he moved passed him. Kuu ran his hand through his hair. “So, I’m Kuu. I’m guessing you’re Inko.”

He was wearing running shoes, a maroon long-sleeved tee, and baggy black linen pants. Inko noted that the clothes were neither cheap nor worn; she had expected him to be a little more frugal, but maybe he was trying to make a good impression.

Kuu looked her up and down. “Oh, my, you look… so huggable.” It was hard to tell from his face, but his tone suggested he was smiling.

“Oh, um, thank you?” she responded. “Uh, welcome. Please come in.”

“Your home is very lovely,” he said, looking around.

“Thank you,” Inko replied, more sure of the compliment this time. She gestured for him to take a seat as she did the same.

“Oh, Sae, love, this is a fabulous spread!” Kuu turned to Izuku. “Did you help?”

“Yeah. Mom and I have been cooking together a lot.”

“That’s fantastic,” Kuu said, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s nice to see a parent getting involved for a change.”

Izuku smiled awkwardly. “Uh, yeah.” He opened the rice steamer and started fluffing the rice before serving it.

Kuu took a seat. “Well, this is a switch, Sae, you serving me.”

Izuku chuckled. “You are the guest here.”

“So, Kuu,” Inko started, “I’d like the address of your gym.”

“Ah, uh, um. Well, see, Inko-san, love, it’s kinda a roving affair,” he explained. He popped a Takoyaki into his mouth. “This is divine, Inko. Mmm.”

“Really?” Inko asked. “Izuku mentioned that he’s being paid to help with cooking, cleaning, and sparring with the paying customers.” She blew lightly on a gyoza before chewing it thoughtfully.

“And he does those things,” Kuu assured her. “We hop from gym to gym, training and working with their paying customers. We evaluate their routines, analyze their techniques, and make up cheap meal plans. We clean up at the end of the night and cook in whatever accommodations they have to offer. It’s important to me that the kids learn to take care of themselves. We also participate in a lot of tournaments.” He took a bite of the cucumber salad.

Inko frowned. “Izuku is too young to face off against adults in a tournament.”

“I beg to differ,” Kuu replied, picking up another Takoyaki. “He placed third in the Yuuei sports festival. Besides, it lets him take on a wide variety of opponents, which is important to ensure he doesn’t develop bad habits. Practice doesn’t make perfect; it makes permanent. Plus, as an underground hero, he’ll need to make a lot of seedy contacts, and we’re getting him a head start in that area.” He popped it into his mouth.

“Seedy contacts?” Inko arched his eyebrow at him.

“Mmm.” Kuu finished chewing before speaking. “Sorry, I meant informants. Slip of the tongue. It’s easy to do with this mouth.” He grinned at her, which she could only tell because his cheeks lifted beneath his eyes. His overlapping teeth prevented the corners of his mouth from moving very much. “Anyway, it’ll also get him a good rapport with the local low-level villains.”

Inko blanched at that. “Why would he want that?”

“He’ll need every resource he can get, love.”

“How would villains help him?”

“Villains are just criminals who use their quirks. Most are petty criminals at that. Underground heroes deal with a lot of small-time thieves, scam artists, and low-level gang members. If he has a good relationship with them, he can avoid fights when arresting them, get information from them cheaply, and even get them into rehabilitation programs to get them off the streets,” Kuu explained. “Just like a beat cop or a detective, you have to know your neighborhood.”

Inko nodded and took a bite of her food. “Okay, that makes sense.”

“I love that blouse, the color is gorgeous on you,” Kuu said, taking a spoonful of soup. “This is excellent as well.”

“Thanks,” Izuku said quietly.

“Oh, Sae! Your cooking is improving faster than I thought,” Kuu exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, I get double the lessons.”

“Yes, he gets extra lessons in a lot of areas,” Inko said. “Tell me about the reading material you gave him.”

“Reading material?” Kuu echoed, popping a whole gyoza into his mouth.

“Mm-hmm. About sex ed.”

He nodded and finished chewing. “Ah, yeah, that. It was just the first three chapters, well, no, not the first chapter, that’s an overview. He didn’t need that. But chapters two, three, and four are about consent, communication, and boundaries.”

Inko shot Izuku a look. Izuku sank down in his chair, hunched his shoulders, and drew his legs together in an attempt to make himself look smaller, as if physically regressing to a gangly middle schooler. She softened her expression in response.

“We’ll discuss it later, Izuku.”

“Eh?” Kuu asked.

“Izuku gave me the names of a few articles.”

“Oh, Sae. You should always let your accomplice know if you’re going to lie. Sir Nighteye already knew about the book. I’ve no doubt he told your teachers, and at that point, it’s too easy for your mother to check your story with them, so there’s no point in lying. This is basic stuff. How do you not know this?”

“I don’t really lie to Mom,” he said softly.

“Who doesn’t li–” Kuu stopped. “Right, right. I forgot. You two actually have a good relationship.” He shook his head. “You never had to learn how to lie. That’s a weird skill not to have.”

“I’m glad he doesn’t lie to me,” Inko said firmly. “Often.”

Kuu narrowed his eyes. “The bullying?”

“I just stopped telling her, I didn’t lie,” Izuku replied, staring at the table.

“Hey,” Kuu raised his voice slightly for the first time since arriving. “Maintain your stance.”

“I’m sitting down?”

“Feet shoulder width apart. Back straight. Shoulders squared,” he ordered.

Izuku uncurled. He set his shoulders, sat up properly, and aligned his feet with his hips.

“Good b–” Kuu cut himself off. “Job.”

Inko raised an eyebrow at him.

“Uh. Praise is a great motivator, so I toss it around pretty freely with the kids. It is cheap and effective.”

“I think under the circumstances, some words or phrases are inappropriate.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Good,” Inko replied. “But you still need to do better. After giving him an inappropriate sex book, the lines are already blurred. You’re the adult; it’s your job to unblur them. And keep them that way.” She shook her head. “I’m just going to have to come with you and see the operation for myself now.”

Izuku blanched.

“It’s sixteen hundred yen a night for nonmembers, and I can’t guarantee your safety. I’ll be looking after the kids. I can’t stop you from following us or coming into any of the locations where we work. I can advise against going to a seedy gym in the middle of the night while exhausted, but you’re not interested in my advice right now.”

“I have to make sure my son is safe.”

“That’s beautiful, love. Finish eating, it’s a long walk.” He wasn’t harsh, merely accepting.

“What was the name of the book?”

“BDSM 101.”

Izuku shrank in his chair again.

“Att!” Kuu snapped.

He sat back up but didn’t make eye contact with either adult. The three finished their food in relative silence, and then Inko joined them in walking out into the night.

Toki was waiting for them in the playground, but Hiki was nowhere to be seen. Inko clutched her necklace. The night was dark, and the neighborhood they walked to, forty-five minutes away, was sparsely lit by flickering street lamps. None of the buildings looked inhabited, let alone open for business. What few windows that weren’t boarded up were blacked out in some other way.

“It’s so dark,” Inko commented.

“Yeah,” Toki rasped. “There’s a lot of nocturnals here, so no one sees the need to fix the street lights; most people in the neighborhood can see fine in the dark. And a few years ago, there was an antimutant gang going around; Kuu got hit with a brick.”

Inko looked shocked. “And you come back here?”

“Mama Bear, if we avoided every neighborhood where someone in the party got hit with a brick, we’d never leave the apartment,” Toki exclaimed.

“This isn’t safe,” she said, wrapping her arm around Izuku.

He stood up tall and slung his arm over her shoulder. “It’s not a bad neighborhood,” he said. “It just looks rough on the outside. They’re good people. You’ll see.”

Kuu led them to what looked to be a rundown garage. He knocked on the side door, and they were let into a space that almost met her expectations. There was a car near the garage door, up on a lift, but the largest area was the old and worn, but professional-looking boxing ring. There was a row of three wooden men and three heavy bags on the back wall. There were thick mats spread on the floor and a small weight-lifting area.

Izuku led her to a bench where she’d be out of the way, while Toki grabbed a cup of coffee for her, with plenty of cream and sugar to cover up the taste.

“I won’t lie, I’m a little scared.”

“I’ll be here the whole time, I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Izuku promised.

Toki dug in his bag for a moment and pulled out the Princess three-pack. He handed it to Inko. “Here, I know it’s a bit early, but they’re our characters, so you know, I’m invested. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.” Toki looked her in the eyes. “I won’t tolerate that.” Toki stood up and made his way to a pair of hanging rings.

Inko clutched the amiibo package in one hand and the coffee in the other. Toki really was a good boy in a bad situation. She sipped the coffee as he shed his hoodie to reveal a plain black T-shirt. He hopped up and grabbed the rings, keeping his pinkies off of them, and began an impressive routine.

“Not sure what a bunch of Nancy boys can teach us about fighting,” a large man said from the weights.

“Sae, you warmed up yet?”

“Yeah, ring or just a mat?”

“Put him down on the concrete for all I care,” Toki said, holding himself upside down.

“Ring it is,” Izuku said, as Kuu warned, “Toki, behave.”

The owner added, “No quirks!” Which Inko was grateful for.

Izuku hopped up into the ring and waved the guy over. He raised his voice to be sure the whole gym could hear him. “How long have you been coming here?”

“Six years.”

He nodded. “I’ve only got a year of training under my belt. By all rights, you should kick my scrawny ass. Let’s go, big guy.”

“Ha.” The man rolled under the ropes to enter the ring.

Inko was terrified by his size; he dwarfed her boy. The man was as broad at the shoulders as Izuku was tall and at least twice his height. Izuku grinned up at him with a feral look in his eyes that Inko had never seen. Someone off to the side rang a bell, and the pair lunged forward.

Izuku ducked under a wild swing, crashing into the man’s thighs and pushing him to the ground. He peppered the man’s abdomen with blows as he sat astride his thighs. When his opponent arched up to dislodge him, Izuku rolled forward and slipped behind him. He put both arms around the man’s neck, in what Inko assumed was a valid chokehold.

The crowd laughed as the large man rolled to his hands and knees and stood up. Inko blanched. The man slammed Izuku back-first into the corner post. Izuku laughed. She heard Toki jeer from the hanging rings he was still casually working out on.

“Stop toying with him,” Kuu called.

Izuku responded by wrapping his legs around the man and arching his back to stretch them both out. This adjusted his hold, apparently making it more effective. The man began shoving frantically at Izuku’s arms. His face turned a violent purple color, and he dropped to his knees. Izuku held him even after he passed out, then he glanced at the person with the bell and raised his eyebrows. Only after the bell was rung did Izuku release his opponent.

Inko drained her coffee, put the slightly crumpled amiibo package in her purse, and got up for a refill. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

Toki dropped down from the hanging rings. “Not too bad for a green Nancy boy, huh, fellas?” He whipped his shirt off, revealing a surprisingly chiseled frame. “Wanna try someone with more experience?”

The floor seemed to sway under Inko’s feet. “Oh, I don’t –”

Toki caught her as her knees buckled. “Easy, Mamma Bear. It’s okay. I know this is a lot of excitement. Maybe you should lie down?”

“Yeah. I just need a moment,” she agreed. Toki led her up a flight of stairs and into an office. Kuu followed close behind.

“I’ll stay with her,” he said.

“Okay. Sae and I will handle things downstairs.”

The last thing Inko remembered before passing out on the couch was Kuu handing Toki a wad of cash.

 

Izuku stared down at his passed-out mother. “I wish we didn’t need to do it this way.”

“Yeah, well, we need to get you to record some things and set shit up,” Tomura said. “I do feel bad spiking her coffee.”

Toga shed her disguise to save the remainder of it for later. Her hair was already dyed black in case Izuku’s mother woke up early. “Have fun,” she said poutily.

Izuku leaned down and kissed her. “It won’t be that bad.”

“Ten days. Eleven for me!” She pouted.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, wrapping his arms around her. 

“If you still love me.”

Izuku looked her up and down. “My feelings shouldn’t change that much, I just need to know.”

“Why?”

“You’ve had more than ten years to learn the ins and outs of your quirk. I’ve had the rapid healing for less than a year. And One for All has changed it. It’s stronger, for sure.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Come on, Kurogiri is waiting for us,” Tomura called.

“Right. Okay. I’ll see you soon,” he told her, pulling away.

“Not soon enough.”

He chuckled as he trotted down the stairs after Tomura. Izuku was pushed into the gym’s grungy bathroom to change. His ripstop cargo pants and a snug, sleeveless black tee replaced his ‘T-Shirt’ and running shorts. Boots, gloves and jacket followed. The mask was a plain black one, perfect for a casual outfit.

Ragdoll stared at him in the mirror as he applied the black hair dye. “I can’t believe you let him drug your mother.”

“I didn’t let Tomura do shit,” Izuku replied quietly. His mother’s information was scrolling in an endless loop in front of his left eye. She was unharmed and sleeping soundly. She would be groggy if woken, but she could be woken up if need be; it was a mild sedative. “I thought we were just going to hang out here all night.”

“He can’t be trusted.”

“He doesn’t know any better. I’ll talk to him about it later, when I get back. Remind me, okay? A lot goes on, and I could forget.”

“How could you forget something like this?” she practically hissed at him.

“I forget that I faced All Might in my first real fight,” he whispered. “It’s… how I cope. I put things in little boxes. I can’t deal with Shigaraki, a violent, crazy villain. But Toki is a good friend and confidant. And Tomura is a good leader and is learning to put his planning and strategies to good use. Separate. Safe. Sometimes things get lost. Boxes I meant to clear out, or otherwise deal with, get shuffled to the back.”

“Fine. But you’re on thin ice.”

“I didn’t want this,” he reminded her. Izuku gave himself a last once-over in the mirror before joining Tomura and Kurogiri in the alley behind the gym.

 

Dabi was already complaining. “Did you make dinner?”

“We need to get you guys a camp stove, or something,” Tomura said. 

“Actually, I was thinking,” Izuku started, “about a hideout.” Izuku moved over to Tomura and pulled up an image on his phone. “There’s this place in Mustafa; I always thought would make for a good hero agency. It’s been vacant for ages. The lot’s overgrown. It’s around seven thousand square feet, on the surface, but the basement levels are where the real value comes in. It used to be part of the old electric rail system, before the revamp. There’s a concourse and tunnels, plus the parking structure is mostly intact.”

The lot was a curved triangle with a grove of trees surrounding an open set of stairs. The next few pictures showed a small, oddly shaped area divided by a turnstile. There were dilapidated bathrooms and water damage in the trapezoid that made up the front; Tomura guessed it was big enough to turn into a reception area. The other was mostly a rectangle, but it connected to the front by one wall being angled about a quarter of the way down, creating an odd sort of hallway. Another set of stairs, a large hole in the floor that must have been for an elevator, and some half-rotted benches filled the rectangular space.

The bottom floor ended in the rail line, but was big enough to require two sets of bathrooms. There was space for a number of shops between the stairs and the train stop. It wasn’t huge, but Tomura could see why Izuku liked it.

“It’s sixty-eight billion yen, Stray. Billion, with a B.”

“A boy can dream.”

“Dream smaller.”

“We squat there and renovate illegally.”

“Ha.”

“Sixty-eight billion yen for seven thousand square feet, in Mustafa?” Kurogiri asked incredulously. “They must be mistaken. Land sells for about a million yen per square meter in Tokyo. Mustafa should be around forty-eight to fifty-three thousand. So, roughly between three hundred and forty and three hundred and seventy million.”

Izuku grinned. “How do I check my account balance?”

“About nineteen million yen,” Kurogiri supplied.

“That’s a good down payment,” he said. “I think.”

Kurogiri shook his head. “You’ll want between twenty and twenty-five percent. So, about seventy-four million.”

“I thought you were saving for university, anyway?” Tomura asked.

“I could go to Tokyo University for like fifteen years on that, I think I’ll be okay.”

“How has he got that kind of money?” Magne asked.

“He has no expenses and never buys anything.”

“I have tried paying for stuff,” Izuku said indignantly. “People keep paying for me.”

“That is hilarious,” Tomura agreed, “but are you sure about this?”

“They do need a more secure location. And I’d like to start generating our own resources.”

“You mean operate independently from…” Kurogiri trailed off.

“It would show the initiative he’s looking for,” Tomura agreed. “Ideas?”

Izuku shrugged. “You’d know better than I would on that front.”

“I can ask Giran if he knows anything. This is… difficult.”

“Yeah.” Izuku nodded. “None of our goals would generate an income. We could steal, obviously, but we’d need to keep that separate from the message. It would give ammunition to the opposition that we’re just thugs.”

“Too bad we can’t sell merch,” Tomura joked.

Izuku’s head whipped towards him. “The sex show.”

“What?” several voices rang out.

“Kurogiri took me to a-an illegal erotic convention, for a date,” he clarified. “They sell merch. There have to be versions for villains.”

“There are,” Kurogiri confirmed.

“So there must be online sites.”

“You have your crazy prank/TikTok look again.”

“We can finally put that psycho bastard to good use.”

“He is going to hate that.”

“Good.”

“So, we’re not doing League of Villains’ plushies?” Twice asked, sounding a little disappointed.

“Oh, we are, but I’m going to bleed that psycho dry while we’re at it.” 

“Okay, you work on that angle more on your trip. I’ll check in with Giran and see what’s available without Sensei.” He paused. “We might look into Blush.”

Izuku huffed. “I guess. If we have too.”

“Sulk much?”

“Yes. I’m very salty about it!”

“Ha.” Tomura shook his head. “Okay. Now that that’s settled, you have TikToks to film.”

“It can wait.” He started to head to the files. “We put out two a day, that’s ten intros and ten other TikToks. I guess I could bust one or two out to use while I’m gone.”

“You’ll do at least ten, I want a backlog in case we get busy.”

“But Tomura, files,” Izuku whined.

“You suggested the TikToks, you have to set a good example.”

“Boo.” Izuku grabbed a burn phone from the box. “That reminds me, though. I need to set up at least three accounts: League of Villains Official, LoV Official, and LoV Thirst Trap.”

“I get separating the official and the thirst trap, but why two officials?” Tomura asked.

“The first one is going to get shut down, end of story,” Izuku explained as he typed. He scrawled the account names and passwords on a piece of paper. “But we’ll have tags to follow by then. Add Crimebrulee to all of Dabi’s stuff. We’ll think of tags for everybody. And put in as many cosplay tags as you can think of.”

“I can set those up, you get filming.”

Izuku handed him the phones and slunk over to the still set up filming area.

Chapter 93: No Time to Say Hello

Izuku set the ring light to red. The voice modulator deepened his voice and gave it a tinny quality while making it echo slightly. The effect was often intimidating and ominous, so anything he said would be creepy or off-putting by default. 

“I hate to break it to you,” he growled, “but this is me trying my best!” Izuku leaned into the camera. “It’s not going to get any better than this. In fact, by comparison, this is me being downright delightful.”

 

Once again, Kurogiri began bringing food in from the bar. This time he made an array of bar favorites and served them family style. Crispy fish fins, edema, and lotus root chips were brought in to start. Rolled omelets, korokkes, and various dumplings were next.

“Wonderful how you manage to elevate even the simplest dishes to elegant heights,” Compress complimented.

“Simplicity and elegance go hand in hand,” Kurogiri replied, placing down a sashimi platter and a selection of grilled meats. The warehouse was filled with appreciative murmurs.

 

Izuku dimmed the light and softened the red to a warm pink. “Gentle reminder,” he said softly, “that it’s okay to be off-putting, bizarre, and unusual. Have a wonderful day, you little freak.”

 

“So, what types of TikToks should we be doing?” Magne asked. “I’ve never been that big into social media.”

“You, Dabi, and Spinner are going to start with various video essays on the middle schools and the problem students,” Tomura informed them.

“I don’t see how this will work,” Mustard complained. “No one knows who we are.”

“Yet,” Tomura corrected him. “I’ve got a couple of ideas. Like hitting the hero commission headquarters and taking out higher-ranking corrupt heroes.”

“You think we can do better than Stain?”

“I think a particularly dedicated toddler could take out some of the heroes Stain tackled,” Tomura shot back. “He does good research, though.”

 

After grabbing a couple of skewers and a dumpling, Izuku went back to filming. He randomly changed the lighting until he landed on a sickly green. “Quick PSA to anyone that might come into contact with me today: today is not the day and I am not the one.”

 

Dabi snatched the last dumpling off the plate. “So, you think the commission is the more important target?”

“It’s the actual source of the corruption in hero society,” Tomura replied. “I’m not saying that some heroes don’t need to be taken out; they do. But if the commission continues to produce corrupt heroes, well, then that’s the real target, and everything else is pruning.”

“Who’s next on the list?”

“We’ll give the school stuff some time to ferment before hitting the commission at all. We can either wait for Stain to bring us a target or pick one on our own. But as long as two of us are healing, I’m not in a huge hurry.” 

“What would we be looking for?” Mustard asked.

“Anything from a lack of concern for civilian welfare to child abuse. We’re not picky.”

“I’m not sure we should wait,” Magne said. She put a hand on her tender ribs. “For one thing, it will give the impression of invulnerability if we strike sooner. For another, we can’t rely on Stain. His work should be considered separate.”

Tomura nodded. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

 

Izuku dimmed the ring light and faced it toward the camera.  “We can hear your heartbeat~.” He flipped the light to illuminate his face. His tone changed to a firm order, his words were harsh and clipped.  “Keep it that way.” 

 

Kurogiri brought in another round of food; mostly fried fish and tempura, but he made sure Dabi got a plate of fried chicken, as he didn’t like fish.

“Thanks.”

“But of course. It is only polite to ensure you have a decent meal.”

 

Izuku set the light back to white and a normal level. His fingers found a protruding brick above him, and he casually lifted himself as he spoke. “When you have a bad day, give up. Go home and sleep. Fuck it. Try again tomorrow. Not every bad day can become a good day. Some days are fucked.”

 

Toga didn’t have a head for budgeting, but the guidelines Kurogiri had left her were straightforward enough. Protein powder was too expensive for most of these gym rats, but chicken was a nice lean meat, and egg whites in a carton weren’t that bad either. Beef was a once-a-week treat. 

There was a lot less whining than she thought there would be. Each person had on average seven thousand yen to spend a week on food. It was easier for her to solve the protein issue first, and then add in their green vegetables. After three ‘clients’, she had a stock list going. Shelf-stable items were given priority; cabbages and sprouts over lettuces. They were happy with her work.

 

“Someone recently asked what I identify as,” Izuku said as he stood on his hands, facing away from the phone. “I sat there and I thought about it,” he lifted his head and arched his back to stare straight into the camera, “and I came to the conclusion that I identify as a threat.”

 

Kurogiri set out bowls of ramen and a tray of toppings. He fixed one up just the way Toga liked it – two boiled egg halves, three thin slices of fatty pork, a mix of sesame and black sesame seeds, and bok choy – and warped away. Dabi dug in with gusto, even licking the spoon for the garlic. He set it next to his own bowl. Luckily, Kurogiri had left them with extra cutlery and a western style fork was used to replace it.

“So uncouth.”

“Gross.”

“Whatever.”

 

“Hey!” Izuku said cheerfully into the camera. He was enjoying the harsh shadows of the stark white light. The ring light reflecting in his eyes gave him a preternatural and wild look. “Nobody needs any of your shit today, but they’re going to get it anyways. Fuck ‘em. Bye~.”

 

“Can we get a radio?” Spinner asked, suddenly.

“Sure,” Tomura said. “I can dig out this old Blu-ray player I have, too. What kind of movies do you guys like?”

“Romance,” Magne said.

“Action and comedy,” Spinner replied. Then he muttered, “And anime.”

“The classics,” Compress spoke up.

“That’s vague. The first Pokémon movie is a classic,” Tomura rasped. “Be more specific.”

“Samurai movies, detective stories, dramas.”

Tomura nodded. “Nagumo-kun, what about you?”

Mustard shrugged. “Normal stuff.”

“Popular anime; got it.”

“What? No. I don’t like anime.”

“Then what?”

“Heist movies and Yakuza flicks,” he admitted.

“Nice.”

“Kaiju,” Twice said, “and found family.”

“Got plenty of those,” Tomura informed him. “Dabi, any requests?”

“Horror.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He shook his head. “Emo-ass edgelord.”

 

Izuku walked over to the crate where everyone was gathered and made a calculated decision. He waited until Dabi had almost finished his drink before stealing his cup, right out of his hand, while pocketing his soup spoon. The volatile fire user followed him back to the staging area, cussing the whole way. It was a dominance play, and they both knew it.

Izuku looked into the camera, more to check his positioning than anything else. “Have you ever looked at someone and just thought: my heart has no room for you,” he said while holding Dabi back with one hand, “but my trunk does.” He swirled the liquid at the bottom of the glass.

Dabi angrily snatched the glass. Izuku let him. He smiled as the League laughed at his antics.

“What was that about?” Tomura called.

“He won’t make them on his own,” Izuku replied. “So he gets to be in some of mine.”

“Fuck you, catboy.”

“Fuck me yourself, coward,” Izuku shot back.

 

Dabi sat down with a thump. “Asshole.”

“So, who are our problem students at Corsan?” Tomura asked, ignoring him.

“Well, there aren’t many; A few scholarship students, a couple of kids with weak quirks, not a lot in the records,” Magne said. “But Spinner found some interesting things on their social media.”

“Uh, yeah. Apparently, the school is super harsh, but very little goes down in their record as teachers are allowed a lot of leeway on how they run their classes. As long as assignments and tests are graded fairly, it’s a discipline free-for-all. I’ve been collecting all the videos that kids are taking surreptitiously in class.”

“How bad is it?”

“There was a suicide last year and three years ago.”

“Fuck.”

               

Looking contemplatively into the camera, Izuku said, “So apparently you can say ‘have a nice day’ and it’d be considered polite, right?” He leaned forward and twitched his head almost mechanically to one side. “But when I say ‘enjoy the next twenty-four hours,’ it’s considered extremely threatening.” He twitched to the other side.

 

“Toga – er, Koi mentioned a clothing allowance. With all this talk of finance…” Magne trailed off.

“Eh, don’t worry about that, we’ll hook you up,” Tomura said. “The finance stuff is … extra. It’s good to have our own resources and be independent. Relying too heavily on one person will inevitably bite you in the ass.”

“True,” she replied. “How do we take on the hero commission, though? Face it, we are just a bunch of thugs.”

Tomura grinned menacingly. “You’ve spent the last week proving to me that that’s not true, Magne. You wrote a decently persuasive argument. You did your own research and you found your own goals while doing it. You guys are a good party, honestly, we’re just missing a healer. We’ll talk plans while Stray is away and finalize something when he gets back.”

Spinner spoke up. “Do you mean it, that it’s good we have our own goals?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“He’s a minor hero in the sticks, probably not worth our time.”

“We gotta start somewhere,” Tomura said with a shrug. “What’s his problem?”

“He’s antimutant. He won’t lift a finger to protect us. He openly calls us subhuman. Animals.”

“Start gathering info on him. Let me know if you need anything.” After a pause, he added, “I might ask Stain to teach you how he gathers intel.”

Spinner flushed. “Me? T-talk to Stain?!”

“Yeah. He and Stray don’t see eye to eye, so one of you would work out better as a contact with him anyway.”

 

Izuku stretched, exaggeratedly arching his back. Then he bent down and touched his toes. “I’m awake, I’ve had my Cheerios, and had a nice glass of water. Ahh~. I’m ready to commit violent atrocities against my fellow man. Let’s go~.” He walked jauntily off-camera.

 

Kurogiri brought in rolled omelets and mackerel fillets with miso soup for breakfast; Dabi got fried tofu and Magne requested sweet rice porridge. Fresh fruit and pickled vegetables were also set on the crate. He left them bentos to see them through the day.

“I’ll be back with a small generator. A manual one, so it won’t need gas or make too much noise,” he told them.

“Thanks,” Magne said. “This is a pretty good setup, most people would just leave us to the winds until it was show time.”

“We desire a more stable long-term alliance with you,” he returned. “And I enjoy cooking.”

She laughed. “Well, aren’t you just a sweet little domestic?”

He considered it for a moment before nodding. “I suppose I am.”

 

It took a while to set up for the last one. Izuku fussed over the lighting and his pose until he was satisfied. He put the phone at a low angle to make himself seem larger and more threatening. “Don’t you just love when somebody tells you they’re spiritual?” he asked. Looming over the camera, Izuku added, “I’m like, demons are spirits too; be more specific,” he hissed.

 

Finally able to dig into the files, Izuku sorted out the ones for class 1-A and began comparing them to the information he had in his notebook. He noted any discrepancies and compared them to the data that Search gave him.

This did not go without comment from Ragdoll. “I said no helping villains.” 

He couldn’t answer back, aloud, so he highlighted a few old injuries indicated by Search and the incidents most likely to have caused them in the students file. Shoji, Koda, and Tokoyami all had unexplained injuries. Izuku gave Ragdoll a pointed look. I’m not helping Villains, I’m saving heroes.  

Remembering what Tiger had gone through in school, the vestige quieted down.

Izuku made a list of the schools they still needed records from. “This would be faster with a hacker.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised Corsan had hard copies of their student files,” Tomura agreed. “Hacker, healer; We don’t have a lot of support characters.”

“Hmm. Magne’s a tank, Dabi’s a glass canon, Compress a skill monkey, Mustard is field control, Spinner is… a non-specialized fighter, and Twice is a gimmick character.”

“It’s a good gimmick, though.”

“Yeah, and a fairly balanced party for low levels.”

“We could always improve Mustard’s ranged attacks.”

“Specing into guns is expensive, but the payoff should be worth it. He needs more variety, though.”

“Something nonlethal.”

“And a long-range option. Plus some close-quarters combat training to defend himself in a pinch.”

“We can lay the groundwork for that while you’re gone.”

“Good.” Izuku turned to Spinner. “So, let’s find you a specialty.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin. My quirk is mostly just sticking to walls.”

Shuichi Iguchi, Quirk: Gecko – Gives user reptilian traits and allows them to adhere to sheer surfaces, mutation, passive, always on, no concentration, no accumulation, touch range, and C-tier strength.

“Okay. But you’re more than that. It takes about ten thousand hours to master a skill; about three and a half years with no days off. Assuming that all those days are effective and equal in value.”

“So what can we do that’s faster?” Tomura asked.

“Apply skills he has to different areas.”

“But I’m not that good at anything,” Spinner confessed.

“Right now, it’s not about what you’re good at. It’s what you can do, and how we build off that. You can fight. We’ve seen it. You’re also strong, that fricken’ behemoth of a sword had to be heavy. And you kept going for the whole attack, so you’ve got endurance.”

“Ninja training for everyone,” Tomura said with a smirk.

“I mean, it’s kinda what we know, and cross-training units will give us more cohesion.”

“You said you’re from a rural area,” Kurogiri began. “Can you drive?” 

“Yeah,” Spinner answered. “I didn’t get a lot of practice, mostly on Grand Theft Auto.”

“So that’s something to look into.”

Izuku nodded. “Now you’ve got some rough short-term plans. We still need to look at long-term goals.”

“Can that wait?”

“Yeah, of course. Just so long as we keep it in mind.”

“It's just kinda getting overwhelming,” Tomura admitted.

“If it helps, focus on one thing. Magne, Dabi, and Spinner can handle the schools. Kurogiri can manage TikTok while I’m gone. Two videos a day, on League of Villains Official, thirst trap as they’re made. Training will take time.”

“So that just leaves Spinner’s rural hero,” Tomura said. “What was his name?”

“Beast Tamer,” he practically spat the name. “He can control animals.”

“We’ll look into his social media presence for now,” Tomura decided. “If he’s gone off on Twitter, we can make an example out of him. If not, we can just use him as practice.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“He made you feel … unworthy,” Tomura said. “I can’t forgive that. I’ve seen what that does to people. I won’t allow my minions to be made to feel unworthy. You will always have value.” He leaned over the table to look Spinner in the eyes. “You’re an onion knight right now. You’ve got your pick of classes ahead of you. You are brimming with untapped potential. And I will see to it that it is fulfilled.”

 

Izuku washed the hair dye out in the little sink, feeling a bit like this was his punishment for going back to I-island so soon. He was stripped to the waist and cramming his head under the faucet when he could be in a nice warm shower with Kurogiri. And maybe Toga. No, no, he definitely didn’t have time for Toga to join them.

Luckily, his meager collection of clothes had stayed on the paper towel dispenser where he’d left them. It was empty of paper towels, however. He ended up drying his hair with his sleeveless shirt. With a sigh and a last check that he’d got all the dye out, Izuku redressed in his running shorts and ‘T-shirt’. He pulled his socks and shoes on, and just as he was about to step out, Kurogiri appeared.

He silently gathered Izuku’s costume and warped it away. He slipped the same prepaid debit into his pocket while pulling him close. “May I have a kiss?”

“God, yes,” Izuku all but moaned.

Their bodies pressed together in the flickering fluorescent light of the dingy bathroom. Izuku drank in the not-wet-not-dusty particles of mist that wafted off Kurogiri, his shadow encircling them. Their breath quickly turned to gasps as their lips met. It was sloppy and frantic in a way that none of their kisses had ever been before. Kurogiri tangled his fingers into Izuku’s hair and plundered his mouth for so long that  Izuku’s lungs ached for air.

He pulled Izuku’s face away from his own. Izuku could scarcely hear him over his own desperate breathing. “I love you. I promise I will wait. For whatever it is, for however long it takes.” He squeezed Izuku’s wrist, his bracelet, with his other hand.

Izuku gripped his wrist in return. “I love you, too. I promise I’ll come back. No matter what.”

Ragdoll looked on in horror. “He’s manipulating you!”

“You don’t have to. You could confess everything and stay on I-island. All Might would protect you and your mother.”

“I won’t abandon Tomura,” he said firmly. To both of them.

 

Izuku was sitting on the edge of the little office’s desk when Inko sat up, yawning and stretching. She mumbled something and blinked at him tiredly. “It was so scary. I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

“I guess their coffee wasn’t any stronger than their fighters,” Izuku joked.

Inko frowned at him. “I’m not sure I can approve of your nighttime activities anymore.”

He dropped his head, resting his chin on his chest. “It’s… I expected as much.” He shrugged, unable to articulate his feelings.

“Izuku, sweetie.”

“It’s okay, Mama Bear,” Toki said softly. “We all knew this shit wouldn’t fly with a reasonable, responsible adult. It’s a fly-by-night operation that caters to the downtrodden and the outcasts. Nobody wants their kid exposed to that. Sae has a bright future ahead of him, best he cuts ties with us now before we drag him down.”

Inko felt a pang of guilt even though she knew he was manipulating her. “Laying it on a little thick?”

“Just laying it all out at once. No need to waste time or dwell. Best to rip it off like a band-aid.”

Kuu sighed. “Five thousand a week isn’t enough. I could finagle six with deals and coupons. Phooey.”

Inko looked over his shoulder. “Are you sure those prices are correct?”

“Yeah, they’re from the grocers down the block and the market two streets over. They’re both open late.”

“There’s a store halfway between here,” she yawned, “and home that’s open until eleven. They have the best meat deals on Saturday, and produce usually has at least one half-off sale. It’s called Rakkizu.”

“Thanks. I’ll look into it.” Kuu scribbled a note on the meal plan he was working on. “Time is it?”

“Almost five,” Izuku replied.

“You should take your mom home.”

“You’re not going to come with?”

“I hate long goodbyes, Sae.”

Izuku hugged Kuu, tears welling in his eyes. “Thanks for… everything.” He stepped away and headed for the door.

It made it worse that they weren’t fighting her on this. They didn’t even seem angry, just resigned. Toki’s shoulders slumped, and he picked at the sleeve of his hoodie. Kuu was hunched over his meal plans, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Wait,” Inko said. “Kuu, how many kids has this… program helped?”

He cocked his head. “It’s hard to say. I take on two or three at a time, they usually stay on for a year or two. But its not– When they stop showing up, sometimes it’s because they got picked up by social care or shipped off to a relative, and sometimes it’s not. Even when it is, that’s not always for the best. All I can do is give them some life skills and encouragement. I can teach them job skills, budgeting, nutrition, and even self-respect, but it takes luck to climb out of the muck we live in. Yeah, sometimes they ‘age out’ and I can even help them get a job and find an apartment. And if I kept them off drugs and out of gangs successfully, they thrive. But it’s hard to track numbers when so many things can go wrong. What qualifies as helping them? I get them out of their abusive situation for a few hours, feed them, and put some money in their pockets. By that measure, I’ve helped them all. But how many did I save is what you’re really asking. I’m no hero, Inko-san. I’ve never saved anyone. I just give them tools.”

“See you when we get back,” Inko said, turning and following Izuku down the stairs. She knew she was being manipulated, but it was so Toki and Kuu, and poor sweet Hiki, could stay in her son’s life, so that they could remain friends. It hurt to know that he had so few and that these three were his first true friends. She didn’t want to take that away from him. “We… have a lot to discuss.”

“Yes,” Toki said quietly. He pulled his fist into his chest.

Inko smiled indulgently. “Toki, sweetie, you are always welcome to visit. Hiki too.”

“Um, okay. You realize how that would be hard to believe, right?”

Inko started to say something, but stopped. “Yes, I can, actually. I’m telling my son you can still be friends, but he can’t be around one of your parents. It would be very difficult for you. And I’m sorry. I want what’s best for Izuku. Sometimes, sometimes it’s not obvious what that is. He’s been so much happier this past year, despite everything that’s happened to him, and a big part of that is you, Hiki, and Kuu. I won’t rush this decision. We’ll discuss it more when we get back. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Toki agreed eagerly. “Thanks for giving us a chance.”

“It’s the only thing I can do.”

“You could throw bricks,” he pointed out.

Inko snorted. “Toki!”

“Yeah, yeah. I am an asshole. You two should get going; it’s been a long night.”

“See you soon, Toki, Kuu. Tell Hiki we said goodbye, and that she’s welcome to come over.” Inko headed down the stairs.

Chapter 94: Good Bye

Stray was shirtless as he hunched over the little sink in the back of the garage-turned-gym to wash the dye out of his hair. He yearned to touch and caress his little lover, even as he donned his disguise. Izuku Midoriya was a wonderful mask; plain, unassuming, and nice. His most outrageous trait seemed to be a love of antifashion tee shirts. Or perhaps the boy truly didn’t care about such things, Kurogiri mused as Stray dried his hair with his deliciously snug black tee. Stray sighed as he did a last check to make sure he got all the dye out. As he turned away from the mirror, Kurogiri manifested fully.

He silently gathered Izuku’s costume and warped it away. Using the prepaid debit card as an excuse, he groped Stray’s hips. Finally sliding it into his pocket, he asked, “May I have a kiss?”

Stray gave a seductive, breathy little moan, and his consent. Kurogiri took full advantage, pulling Stray tight against him as he tilted his head back to capture his lips. Shadow Bind encircled them tightly, almost forcing the air from his lungs. The desperate clinging of his usually timid lover spurred his own desire on. It was sloppy and frantic in a way that none of their kisses had ever been before. Their fingers tangled into each other’s hair as they embraced.

Gasping as he pulled away, Kurogiri found the breath and the willpower to tell Stray, “I love you. I promise I will wait. For whatever it is, for however long it takes.” He squeezed Stray’s wrist – his bracelet – as a silent affirmation: I will be with you, even if we are apart.

Stray returned the gesture, as always. “I love you, too. I promise I’ll come back. No matter what.”

“You don’t have to,” Kurogiri said. It took everything he had to say it, to tell his love to flee. To escape the monster they were chained to. “You could confess everything and stay on I-island. All Might would protect you and your mother.”

“I won’t abandon Tomura,” Stray replied firmly. And Kurogiri was at once overwhelmed with joy and heartbroken. This emerald-in-the-rough would sacrifice his freedom, his own life, to stay at Tomura’s side. He’d finally found someone who understood.

I am the one who protects Tomura Shigaraki. I am no longer alone. We protect Tomura Shigaraki.

All he needed to do now was silence the little voice inside that kept asking, Can we protect him from Sensei?

 

Rei Todoroki tossed and turned in her sleep. The nightmare was repeating over and over. Shoto walked into the kitchen as she was on the phone with her mother. … And Shoto, that child’s left side sometimes feels unbearable to me. All I can see is his father. I can’t raise him anymore. I want to run away from this life.

“Mom? What are you saying?” his tiny voice had asked.

The kettle shrilled at that moment. Her mind shied away from the horrors that followed.

Wildfire: the quirk that was supposed to save her. The donor could control his body temperature, making them a living blowtorch. He had a high degree of heat resistance, which is why she chose him as opposed to someone who looked more like Enji. He still had crimson hair and turquoise eyes, thank goodness, but otherwise, they couldn’t be more different. Wildfire was an ectomorph with angular features; long and lean with little body fat or muscle, narrow-chested, small-shouldered, barely five feet ten inches tall, with long, silky hair.

But that child. He was the spitting image of his father. Enji would only be able to ignore for so long. She had to. She had to.

The kettle shrilled at that moment.

 

“So, you lied to me,” Inko said when they entered the apartment.

“I, uh,” Izuku scratched the back of his head, “yeah, I’m sorry. I just. I know how it looks.”

“You were protecting Kuu,” Inko said. She gave him a sad smile. “But he made a mistake, and you shouldn’t hide that from me. I need to know what’s going on with you. I know I’ve been… absent for a while now, and I am sorry about that. It’s going to be an adjustment for us both, but I am going to be more involved in your life now.”

“So, how long am I grounded for?” Izuku asked, good-naturedly.

“Hmm. I’ve been looking into alternative punishments because of your quirk. So, not grounded. You’ll be writing me an essay. So, you can work on it during the trip, if you need to. You’ll have to explain what you did wrong, why it was wrong, and what you’ll do differently in the future. Understand?”

“I guess. How long?”

“I won’t set a length, as understanding and learning are the more important factors,” Inko explained. “It does make me wonder what else you’ve lied to me about.”

“Nothing. I mean, look at how fast that fell apart on me,” Izuku replied, thinking about One for All, Kurogiri, and the League.

“Mmhmm,” Inko replied. “Izuku, it is normal for a teenager to rebel a bit; we’ll work it out together. In the meantime, what do you want to do today, after we visit Katsuki-kun?”

“Something simple? Local. Like a picnic?”

“We could grab KFC and go to Anio Park,” Inko suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

“Good. Now you get showered, I’ll change your sheets so you can sleep.”

“Ah, right.” Izuku turned on his heels and went into the bathroom. He started by brushing his teeth. There wasn’t a noticeable lingering taste of his kiss with Kurogiri, but he was thorough nonetheless. He stripped, dumping his clothes directly into the washing machine. He hesitated when it came to the bracelet. It wasn’t as if he could wash the natural fiber jute rope. He wouldn’t be able to wear it. It would be covered in Kurogiri’s pheromones. With a sigh, he threw on a bathrobe and ran the bracelet to his room. He tucked it into a drawer and grabbed a change of clothes: a pair of jeans and a white tee that said ‘Polo Shirt.’

After skittering back to the bathroom and stepping into the shower, he was jolted by just how often he showered elsewhere.

There was a full bottle of his old ‘Sports Wave’ body wash in the shower caddy. It smelled like soap and a fresh, clean ozonic scent. It reminded him less of the seaside and more of the air just before it started to rain. He squirted a generous dollop onto his mesh loofah. He scrubbed himself roughly, as if it would wash away the lingering memory of Kurogiri’s touch. He gave the same treatment to his hair, despite all of Yamada-sensei’s hair care advice.

After drying and dressing, Izuku crawled into bed. He did feel tired, but it was more an emotional exhaustion than a need for sleep. He felt numb and rushed at the same time. His head was too full, but he couldn’t focus on anything. There was a weight around his neck and tightness in his chest. His mind was whirling, but not gaining any traction. He wasn’t going to get any sleep this morning.

 

The sun was barely over the horizon when the pair entered their mother’s hospital room. The golden morning light gave way to a clear blue sky broken only by the cityscape around them. Early Sunday morning visits were becoming a tradition for them. Afterward, Fuyumi would take Shoto out for breakfast.

“Hello, Mom,” Fuyumi greeted.

“Fuyumi, Shoto! I’m so glad to see you,” Rei replied.

“I brought you some light clothes,” Fuyumi said, setting a bag on the table.

“Thank you, as always.”

“It’s going to be hot next week.”

“That’s disappointing, but it is August.” Rei asked, “Shoto? Are you doing well?”

“Yeah.”

Rei’s slight smile faltered at the one-word response. She looked down at the floor.

“Shoto,” Fuyumi chided. “Oh, you’re flowers are lovely!”

“Oh, thank you. The white gerbera makes the autumn bellflowers stand out.”

“The lily of the valley, instead of baby’s breath, is an interesting choice as well.”

“They do fill out the bottom nicely, though.”

 

Tomura tossed a burn phone to Kurogiri when he finally entered the apartment. “I set up automatic uploads for the next ten days. All you have to do is warp the phone around to Wifi hotspots. It’s two videos a day: an intro and a regular one. Most of the League has a decent backlog, but you and Dabi still need to record some. I can update the schedule when you finish.”

“Very well,” Kurogiri agreed. “Are you hungry?”

“I could snack.” He shrugged. “Or sleep; it's fine either way. I have a spaghetti in the freezer.”

“I’ll cook you something proper when you get up,” he promised.

“Thanks,” Tomura said. He turned back to his game, trying to find a save point. “We should see about tracing the Blush operation while Stray is gone. The less contact he has with them, the better.”

Kurogiri nodded. “I would like to keep some distance between them and you as well.”

“If you think Magne is up to spearheading that, I don’t mind putting her in charge of something.”

“I believe she can handle it,” he agreed. When it was clear that Tomura was done talking, he warped to the warehouse to record his own backlog of videos.

 

Deku wasn’t coming to see him before he left. He’d be on I-island for a week, and Bakugo would be out of the hospital by the time he saw him again. Unexpected tears pricked his eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t; he was worthless now, without a quirk. He could never be a hero, let alone the best. Deku knew better than anyone how worthless people were treated. And of course, he’d abandon Bakugo now; he deserved it for how he treated Deku for all those years.

It’s more important to do your best than to be the best.

Right. But now his best would never be good enough. Bakugo stared at his bandages. He would have to do everything in his power to minimize the scarring. He wasn’t going down without a fight, and he’d get that shadow-manipulating bastard.

“Hey,” a bright voice broke through his dark musings, “Kacchan.”

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he said, surprised by the crack in his voice.

“Don’t be silly,” Deku replied casually, stepping over to the bed and wrapping his arms around him. “How could I not visit you in the hospital? You came to see me.”

“I thought you tried to kill yourself because of me,” Bakugo whispered.

“That’s something we’ll have to talk about, but not right now, okay?” Deku said gently. 

“Could I still be a hero, without a quirk?” Bakugo held his bandaged hands.

Deku paled, and his eyes went vacant. He swayed on his feet. Deku shook his head, as if to clear it. After a few slow, deep breaths, he bent his head forward and kissed the backs of Bakugo’s hands. “There are tons of heroes with non-combat or non-mobility quirks, so yes, of course you could, Kacchan. Look at Aizawa-sensei, or Sir Nighteye. Hell, Mandalay’s Telepathy is one-way, and she does just fine! You’d have to work a lot harder, but you could do it. You know, if you didn’t whine like a little bitch every time shit didn’t just come naturally to you.”

“Izuku!” his mother chided, “Language! And poor Katsuki-kun, I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Ah, sorry.” Deku hunched his shoulders. It sent a spike of nausea through Bakugo to see it. It was as if a switch had been flipped. Strong, confident, powerful Izuku was turned off, gone, erased as if by Hobo-sensei’s quirk, revealing the timid, worthless, weak little Deku from middle school.

“It’s okay, auntie,” Bakugo said, his voice shaking. “I needed to hear it.”

 

“No one goes out alone. Stay in groups of four or more. Watch each other’s backs,” Endeavor growled at his gathered sidekicks.

They all knew that Stain had struck a nerve and either nodded mutely or gave a solemn ‘Yes, sir.’ He had changed their typical patrol routes and groups. Rookies and younger sidekicks were stuck strictly to main roads and populated areas, always in larger groups, always with one or two veterans. The rest were patrolling back alleys in four-man teams. They had fifteen-minute check-ins over the comms and meet-ups every two hours.

Meals were provided at headquarters every six hours. Head counts were frequent, and roll call was performed randomly throughout the day.

As dangerous as they all knew the Hero Killer was, the seriousness with which Endeavor was taking the whole situation was what unnerved them. They had expected long hours and many safety briefings, but the extent to which their boss was going was unnerving. Still, they all knew better than to question it, or worse, go off on their own.

 

It had been an hour since Kota was sent to his room, and two hours since Mandalay had taken his phone. That had brought the mask up again. Things were said that couldn’t be taken back so easily.

Ragdoll knocked softly on the door and waited patiently for a reply.

“Go away!”

She considered the request, but in the end, felt she had to mend the rift that was forming in her family. “Kota, please talk to me.”

The door was yanked open. “Why, so you can yell at me, too? Tell me how disappointed my parents would be?”

Ragdoll flinched. “Mandalay should never have said that. I think they’d be more disappointed in how we handled the situation.”

Kota looked surprised. He waved her into the room. “What do you want?”

“To understand,” she replied. “Why do you like Tomura Shigaraki?”

 

Mitsuki pulled Inko aside after the boys were settled. “Have you seen this article?”

“Not yet,” she admitted, taking the magazine her friend held out.

“It’s so juicy!”

“It’s really not,” Inko replied as she flipped through the article.

It was relatively short, maybe a thousand words and mostly pictures: a carefully cropped picture of her getting out of the car with neither Endeavor nor his driver visible, Endeavor smiling and holding the door for her in his sharp dark blue suit, the pair of them talking as they walked to and from the restaurant. All with her face blurred, of course. The champagne skirt suit looked elegant when paired with the pistachio green, draped collar blouse.

“Hmm. It was too dressy,” Inko murmured to herself. “I should have changed when I saw he wasn’t wearing a tie.”

“Who got you that necklace?” Mitsuki asked, pointing to the heart-shaped pendant. “You overanalyze everything.”

“One of Izuku’s friends, for my birthday. They really are sweet kids.”

“So are the two of you close?”

“It was just lunch, and all we talked about were the boys.” She shook her head. “We are both married.”

“Yeah, but a girl can dream.”

Inko made a disapproving face. “Maybe it’s different when you have your husband right there all the time, but I would never dream of cheating.”

“I’m sorry, Inko. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s alright, I know you don’t mean anything by it. Oh, and hey, did I tell you Hisashi is being transferred back to Japan at the end of the year?”

“No, you hadn’t.”

“Mmhmm. It’ll be nice having him around again. I miss him.”

“That’s why a girl should dream,” Mitsuki said mischievously. “I mean, just imagine those big, strong hands.”

“Absolutely not. Our children are dating.”

“All Might then?”

“Teaching at their school.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’ve managed to keep you out of trouble this long. Why blemish a perfect record?”

 

Mustard watched – and recorded – as Twice measured, cut, and hand-stitched a pair of pants that would fit Magne the way they were supposed to. He uploaded it as a time-lapse that transitioned into the powerfully built woman showing off the finished product. Even he had to admit that it looked good on her.

“The clothes make the man,” said Twice, “Er, woman. Uh, person?”

She laughed. “Villain, sweetie.”

 

That night, Izuku sat in front of his computer with Ragdoll’s vestige leaning over his shoulder, guiding him through the fifteen-year-old obituaries archived in the Hero Network. They were using her credentials to access the site and cross-referencing the limited information with public records. It was slow going, as Aizawa had not taught the class how to run an investigation yet. Ragdoll was slowly teaching him the shortcuts and processes he would need to do background checks.

“It would be too convenient that Toki and Yagi’s mentor were related,” Izuku sighed as he scrolled through Nana Shimura’s archived Hero Network profile.

Ragdoll hummed in response. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that… Pull up the public records site I showed you.” 

“Okay.” He switched windows.

“She was married,” Ragdoll murmured, “so let’s look up if her husband had any kids.”

Izuku nodded. “It says here he had a son, Kotaro Shimura. He was put in foster care when his dad died.”

“And his kids?”

“Hana and Tenko,” Izuku replied triumphantly. His tone changed immediately as he kept reading. “Oh, god. The whole family… his quirk.” He sat silently for a few minutes. “Poor Tomura.”

Ragdoll read over his shoulder, a grim expression on her face. “This is bad.”

“Yeah.”

“You need to tell All Might.”

“I can’t.” He began printing the relevant pages.

“Cheshire, this could really hurt him.”

“I know, but Sensei can tell if I’m lying, so I can’t risk doing too many things I’d have to keep secret.” He shook his head. “There’s only so much delicately dancing around the truth I’m capable of.”

Ragdoll nodded. “Okay. We’ll work around it.”

“I don’t know how.”

“And I’ll keep it that way,” she replied with a wink.

 

Even though it had been his idea, Tomura grumbled when Stain was warped into the bar to meet Spinner. 

Kurogiri repressed his anger completely and was the picture of manners to their unwanted guest, while Spinner had a hard time hiding his excitement. He was practically vibrating in a way that reminded them of Stray.

“What do you want now?” Stain growled.

“I want you to teach Spinner your methods.”

“Where is Stray?”

Tomura sneered. “Does it matter? You’re going to show him how you collect your intel, and maybe how you stalk your target. If I have to pull Stray off of his assignment to get you to cooperate, I’ll have him kick your ass again.”

Stain was about to retort when they all heard Stray’s tinny, echoing voice from the stairs. “Do not test me today, Stain.”

“I didn’t want to waste my time,” the hero killer replied. “Do you have a target in mind, or am I free to pick?”

‘Stray’ tilted his head and thought for a moment. “Either the pro hero Beast Tamer or another of your choice. It doesn’t matter which, as long as Spinner understands and can replicate your methods.” He paused. “In the future, understand that Tomura’s orders are to be obeyed. Questioning him is a waste of all our time.”

 

Endeavor sighed as he checked his email. His media manager had linked him to an article from some rag with pictures of him and Midoriya-san going into Lantern Avenue Sushi. Who is this Mysterious New Woman? He wondered how much of it was sensationalism and how much was sheer laziness. He replied that he wasn’t worried about the article’s varied accusations – affair partner, victim of his ‘reckless’ quirk use, or potential in-law – but the invasion of Midoriya-san’s privacy did bother him. He passed her information along so they could handle anything that needed to be dealt with, but the best course of action was to ignore it.

He texted Midoriya-san just to apprise her of the situation. Good morning. Fuyumi was always telling him he should send a greeting first. It was polite. There is an article about you in Popular Pros. Please ignore it, my publicist will handle everything. I will email you his contact information in case anyone bothers you.

Thank you for the heads up, Enji-san. My friend showed me the article yesterday. There was a pause before she sent another text. I might print it out and scrapbook it. I’ve never been in a tabloid before. :P

Endeavor chuckled.

“Hey, boss,” Burnin’ called, tossing a copy of the rag onto his desk. “We’re gonna get burgers on the way back from patrol. You want anything?”

He sighed and brushed the magazine into the trash. “Fast food?”

“Nah, from Zero’s,” she replied with a grin. It was an in-house tradition: anytime he was accused of infidelity, no matter how flimsy the supposed evidence or wild the speculation, the sidekicks used the corporate credit card to get everyone lunch. Since it was Burnin’s favorite, it was no surprise that it was the agreed-upon restaurant.

“I hardly think this warrants Zero Izakaya,” he grumbled. While they’d been introduced to the place by one of his former sidekicks, the fact that one of the pronunciations of the name was ‘rei’ was not lost on either of them. It was styled after an old European pub with a name like O’Malley’s or O’Grady’s. There had been some miscommunication with the original signage, and Zero’s was born.

“You don’t get to pick, philanderer,” she teased.

“The Irish Pub Burger, with grilled asparagus, no fries.”

“I’m not sharing mine with you again,” Burnin’ warned.

He frowned at her.

“You want a milkshake, too?”

“No.”

“Peach-blueberry or cherry-chocolate?”

“Peach-blueberry, please.”

“No problem.” She grinned at him.

 

Magne spent most of the day trying to turn her essay into a script for a ten-minute video. She wanted to get the middle school exposés over with as much as the next League member. They had bigger fish to fry, and Tomura had said that they’d passed the interview process.

On a break to grab a drink and stretch, she caught Dabi sleeping. She couldn’t resist taking a short video of him dozing lightly in a chair; a blacked-out but broken window letting soft golden light glint off of his medical staples and piercings. When she realized she had caught him opening his eyes and glaring at her, she uploaded it to the thirst-trap account backed by an older song with a hard transition.

 

Izuku wasn’t physically tired despite not sleeping for two days. Emotionally, however, he was drained. He flopped down on the couch in Inui-sensei’s office for his nine a.m. session. “It’s too much.”

“That’s fair,” Inui said, lowering himself into an armchair. “We could push this session back.”

“Oh, fuck that,” Izuku said into a pillow. “I just want to get it over with.”

“Okay. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Izuku considered the question for a moment.  Most of the time, he was fine. Most of the time, he didn’t think about his traumatic experiences. When he did think about them, numbness washed over him as if he were filled with tepid bathwater. If something did remind him of his trauma unexpectedly, he would either go numb or have a panic attack.  He didn’t know how to explain it. Finally, he shrugged. “No? I just kinda feel empty.”

“That’s perfectly normal under the circumstances,” Inui said sympathetically.

“How do I fix it?” Izuku asked, lifting his head to look at him for the first time.

 “Process your emotions,” he replied, “which could just take time, or you could need to talk about the event or events.”

Izuku sighed and put his face back into the pillow. “Isn’t there a packet or something?”

“No, but we could draw while we chat.” He got up and grabbed a box of art supplies from his desk. There was blank paper, coloring pages, crayons, colored pencils, markers, gel pens, and chalk pastels. Inui sat on the floor opposite Izuku.

With a groan, Izuku rolled off the couch and sat up. He reached across the coffee table and grabbed the pack of gel pens. He started sketching All Might.

After a few moments of the pair quietly working, Inui asked, “How are you handling Yagi’s health issues?”

Izuku blinked at his drawing, realizing he had added the jagged, angry scar. “Ah. Um. I… not well, I guess. I mean, I know he’s going to die, and according to Nighteye, it’ll be this year, but it doesn’t feel real.” Izuku pulled Yagi up with Search. He was at Aizawa’s apartment. He needed a few vitamins and iron. “He’s started to put on weight. It’s just a little, but it’s something.”

“The future’s not written in stone,” he replied, wrinkling his nose. On Inui’s dog-like muzzle, it looked like he was snarling.

“It’s literally his quirk,” Izuku argued. He wanted to believe him, but hope was a dangerous thing, and he wasn’t sure he could handle having his hopes raised only to be dashed on the jagged rocks of inevitability.

“So?” Inui asked, almost dismissively.

“He’s never been wrong,” Izuku informed him in a tone that carried the weight and finality of a death sentence.

“Ah, that has to be bullshit,” Inui said softly. “Time-bending quirks exist, so it can’t be one hundred percent accurate.”

The analytical part of his brain latched on to that information and began running with it. If time could be altered, even in the short term… Ah, but there was hope rearing its ugly head. No, it had to be killed now before it had a chance to blossom in his chest. He stopped muttering and asked, “What if his quirk locks people into a specific future?”

“Then it would be an ongoing effect, powered by quirk factor. Aizawa’s Erasure could conceivably unlock it.”

“But we’d have no way of knowing,” Izuku complained.

Inui cocked his head as he considered this. “No reason not to try it. It won’t hurt anything.”

Izuku pulled out his phone and sent Yagi a text. Have Aizawa-sensei use his quirk on you.

Why? The reply was immediate.

Izuku took longer to compose his response. He didn’t want to ruin Yagi’s day by burdening him with not only a reminder of his imminent death but also his insecurities about losing his mentor so soon. Too soon. Within a year.

“Fuck!” Izuku snapped, staring at his phone as if it had personally offended him. He stood up and began pacing.

If the sudden change in mood or frantic energy bothered Inui, Izuku couldn’t tell. He was as calm as ever when he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I promised to give One for All back or transfer it to a new user if he found me unworthy in a year. That bastard isn’t going to live to see the next sports festival! He fucking knew!”

After digesting the boy’s outburst, Inui asked, “Have you done anything that if he knew about it would make him take One of All back?”

“Yes,” he replied flatly.

“If you really believe that and genuinely think he’d take the quirk back, tell him,” Inui suggested.

Izuku bit back his immediate reply. Tears welled in his eyes. “He would hate me.”

“I don’t believe he would,” he reassured the boy.

“You have no idea.”

Izuku’s phone dinged with a text notification. When he checked it, Yagi had messaged him, Izuku? I had Aizawa-kun use Erasure on me. I don’t know what you’re looking for, but… we did it both normally and with my quirk active. I hope this helps.

Thanks, Izuku replied. Sorry, it took a minute to get back to you. I’m in a session with Inui-sensei. You came up, and we thought it might end Nighteye’s curse on you. At worst, it might make me feel better about the inevitable.

I don’t feel any different? I’m so sorry, Izuku. I promise I’ll do everything I can to stay with you. Maybe I can at least see you graduate. If nothing else, you’ll have more of a support network than I did. I’m going to tell Dave. If I try to chicken out, you have my permission to tell him. He should know. If for no other reason than so he can support you when I’m gone.

We’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive.

I do want to be there for you, Izuku, for as long as I can. 

Izuku smiled softly and felt the gentle warmth he usually felt in Yagi’s presence. “Huh. I kinda do feel better, even though I know it probably didn’t do anything.”

Inui raised his eyebrows at that. Instead of questioning it, he said, “That’s good. We can slowly chip away at the numbness.”

“Tackle everything one trauma at a time, huh?”

“Exactly.” Inui reached across the table and ruffled Izuku’s hair. “And try to remember that we’re here for you, whenever you need us.” After a beat, he added, “And that you do need us.”

Izuku grinned sheepishly at him.

The pair continued to draw and talk through the events of the last few months. When Inko joined them, they focused on happy things. Inko drew little doodles of things from their museum visit, and Izuku sketched out a group picture of his mom, Yagi, Inui, Yamada, and Aizawa; the core of his support network.

Chapter 95: Preflight Checks

After texting with Izuku, Yagi tried to retreat to the guest room, but his phone chimed, giving him away. It was time for his meds and midmorning meal. Aizawa reheated the breakfast leftovers while Yamada herded him to the table. He ate with little protest; after all, he did want to be there for Izuku, for as long as he could.

Yamada was next to him, grazing on a plate of fresh vegetables, responding to his social media. “I am Stray of the League of Villains.”

The three men all stopped and stared at Yamada’s phone.

The deep but tinny voice continued, “Adversity does not build character, the abuse did not make you kind, and your scars are not tiger stripes or badges of courage.”

Yagi grabbed the phone.

“Abuse creates abusers, and darkness multiplies. Love, support, and kindness do as well.”

Aizawa sat down across from him.

“Being a light in the darkness is the most difficult thing anyone will ever do, but even if it’s just to light their own path, it is the only way out of the dark.”

“If that’s not a cry for help, I don’t know what is,” he said solemnly.

“Why would they start a TikTok?”

“Because Izuku wants help, he needs a light to guide him.”

 

Shinso met them at the school gate. He was wearing jeans, a white tee, and a cream button-up with pale green manta rays on it. He was idly playing on his phone while leaning against the wall. In one fluid, languid motion, he pulled away from the wall and fell into step beside them.

“Do we want to stop for lunch somewhere? Or make something at home?” Inko asked as they walked down the hill.

Shinso glanced between her and Izuku as they headed towards the train station. “I, uh, don’t have any money.”

Izuku snorted. “We can treat you. We invited you out.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“Yes, it is,” Izuku insisted. “The more you say it’s not, the more important it becomes that I buy you lunch. I cannot be reasoned with.”

Shinso laughed. “Sure. You buy, I’ll cook.”

Izuku narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Okay,” he said slowly. “What do you wanna eat?”

“Okonomiyaki?” Shinso replied uncertainly. “I’m pretty good at making them.”

“That sounds lovely!” Inko said enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed. “I haven’t had Okonomiyaki in a while. Let’s see, we’ll need pork –”

“We have some in the fridge.”

Izuku nodded. “Another cabbage, I think we have enough flour.”

“Let’s pick up another bag to be on the safe side.”

“Do you prefer Dashi stock or powder, Shinso?”

“Uh, powder.”

“And sauce, of course. Not that much.”

“I have enough on me to pay for everything,” Izuku said.

“I don’t know how much you make at your gym, but after the DSRs, I think I can pick up the tab for a while, sweetie.”

“Yagi-san helped with the cost,” Izuku said defensively.

“I think we should get a watermelon as well,” Inko said, slyly changing the subject.

 

Dabi threw a bottle of water at Mustard. Miraculously, he not only caught it, but Twice was filming at the time, having taken the whole TikTok thing to an absurd level. Thankfully, he let Magne screen everything before he posted.

“Now that I’ve caught you in my thirst trap, you’re obligated to drink eight ounces of water,” the boy managed smoothly.

“We should do a series of those to post as well,” Kurogiri suggested.

Mustard laughed and shook his head. “This outfit is a joke.”

Kurogiri leaned over to look him directly in the eyes. “Naturally. But the punch line is, ‘then they used the Clock App to take down corrupt heroes’.” He straightened up. “Now, is anyone hungry?”

 

Dark Shadow was draped lazily across Fumi’s shoulders, tucked under the collar of his shirt to avoid the hot summer sun and occasionally steal a lick from their ice cream. 

“Has Midoriya contacted you at all?” Fumi asked the many-armed one. They liked him; he was nice. He’d gotten hurt because of them, but he wasn’t mad at them about it. He would pat Dark Shadow when he saw either of them fretting about it.

Mezo shook his head. “We promised him until school starts back up. Just give it time. I’m sure he’ll come through.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“We tell Aizawa-sensei, first thing.” 

“Don’t be mad at green-boy,” Dark Shadow said with a sigh.

“Why are you so fond of him?” Mezo asked.

“Kind like you, warm like Fumi, darkness like me,” he replied sleepily. “I’m sharp and powerful. Dangerous. Green-boy is … protective and driven. Focused. They’re pretty and work well together.”

The pair of teens was silent for a long time, and Dark Shadow drifted in and out of sleep until they went into an air-conditioned restaurant for lunch.

 

“These are so good,” Izuku said as he pulled another bite off his Okonomiyaki. “We need to have you over for food more often.”

“At least once a week,” Inko agreed.

“I guess,” Shinso said, a little embarrassed by the praise.

“God, you’re cute when you blush.” Izuku pulled out his phone and snapped a picture.

“You’re dating Shoto,” he reminded him while grabbing for the phone.

“And sent.”

“Mei is going to rib me for days.”

“But it’ll make Kaminari smile.”

Shinso looked at him, confused. “Why would you send that to him?”

“To brighten his day. How is this confusing?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you sent it to the boy I got maimed.”

“Hey,” Izuku said and stepped around the table. He cupped Shinso’s cheeks in his hands. “You did not get him hurt. Villains did that. We are not responsible for their actions.”

“Easy for you to say, you didn’t get anyone hurt.”

“Shoji lost a hand because I left him and Tokoyami to try and get to Shoto, who could have been killed facing the fire user alone, because I wasn’t fast enough to keep from being separated. Tokoyami had to unleash Dark Shadow at night just to stay alive. He’ll never trust me to have his back again.”

“That’s not true!” Shinso snapped back. “They know full well you did everything you could.”

“And so does Kaminari!” Izuku grinned. “You’re just embarrassed because you like him.”

Shinso shoved him away with a huff. “Ass.” After a beat, he looked at Inko and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Er – sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’ve been through a lot.”

Izuku’s phone bloopped. Kaminari had replied with a picture of himself in his hospital bed and the caption ‘I lived, bitch.’

“See?”

Shinso’s phone buzzed. He answered it hesitantly. “Hey, Denki.” He stepped out onto the balcony. “Yeah, I’m at Izuku’s.”

"Izuku, sweetie..."

"I'm... okay. Like I said, it was scary, but we survived. I only feel a little guilty, and I understand that none of them blame me. That the villains were at fault." Never mind that he was one.

 

Spinner frowned at the papers in front of him. The expression was so dramatic that Compress couldn’t help but capture it for posterity.  Eventually, a sharp and cruel grin spread across the young man’s face. It took Compress longer to pick a filter than it did to edit the clip into the perfect thirty seconds.

 

Shoto flipped through his contacts on his phone as he procrastinated doing his summer homework. He idly scrolled back and forth between Izuku and his father. He wasn’t sure whom he wanted to contact. The visit with his mother and yesterday’s session with Hound Dog weren’t sitting well with him, but he knew his father and boyfriend would tell him he had every right to be upset with her. That he would be right to stop visiting if he was uncomfortable. And Fuyumi would just tell him to give it some time.

“Hey, Natsuo?”

“Shoto? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Why would you assume that?”

“Dude, you never call. It’s natural that I’d assume something was up. So, what’s on your mind?”

“Do, do you enjoy seeing Mom?”

“Sure. I mean, I usually only make it out there once a month. I think every week is overdoing it, to be honest.”

“Maybe I should cut it down to every other week?”

“Yeah,” Natsuo agreed. “Not much changes with mom. I don’t think it would be a problem. I mean, you only get one day off from school. You gotta take some time for yourself, socializing and stuff. It’s crucial at your age. You’ve started to come out of your shell.”

“Do you think Mom is getting any better?”

“Recovery isn’t a straight line, Shoto. She has good days and bad. We all do. Just remember that you can talk to me about anything. If you’re confused or unsure about something, just ask. Okay?”

“Okay.” Shoto was silent for a moment. “Does dad’s abuse justify what mom… what she did?”

“No. It’s never okay to hurt a child. Our situation is complicated, but nothing anybody was going through justifies hurting you.”

“Thanks, Natsuo. I… I needed to hear that from someone who understands.”

Natsuo was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, I get it. Fuyumi is focused on putting the family back together, but sometimes you can't fill in the missing pieces, and she forgets that we have our own lives now.”

 “Yeah. Um, hey, about that,” he started hesitantly. “How do you feel about me having a boyfriend?”

“I don’t care that you’re gay, or bi, or whatever; if that’s what you mean. I think the first semester is a little soon, but you need space to make mistakes. As long as he treats you right, it doesn’t bother me.”

“And, uh, about the bi or whatever… would it be weird for us to be a couple but still go on dates with other people?”

“Is he cheating on you?” Natsuo asked in a serious tone.

“No, absolutely not,” Shoto assured him. “He thinks a girl in our class likes me as well, and that we shouldn’t have to break up for me to explore that. In theory. We’re not going to do the dating other people thing right now because of the trauma. But would it be weird?”

“Yeah, it would, but maybe weird is the right thing for you and your boyfriend. I mean, I’m glad you’re not rushing into anything, but every relationship is different. Just really think about it before you commit to anything. Okay?"

“We did talk about it. It would be nothing more than what we do together, which is handholding and cuddling. He likes a glacial pace and encourages me to set boundaries.”

“He sounds sweet.”

“He is.”

"Obligatory older brother threat: if he cheats on you I'll kick his ass."

"He has super strength."

"I have connections."

"Dad doesn't scare him."

"Not who I meant, but good to know. Anyway, it's good talking to you. What else do you wanna talk about?"

"I don't know."

"What's your favorite book?"

 

“Aw, man, it’s getting late,” Shinso complained, looking out at the setting sun. “I should head home.”

“Or you could sleep here,” Izuku suggested. “Bed’s free. I mean, I could nap on the couch.”

“You sure?”

“It’d be nice if someone used it,” Inko said flatly, from where she was putting the dry dishes away.

Izuku flinched and nearly dropped the cup he was washing. “Sorry. I’m trying!”

“No, I’m sorry,” she replied with a sigh. “We’ve talked about it, and I should give you space and time to adjust. You have been coming home at five and texting me when you get to the gym. Although I will want addresses in the future.”

Izuku grinned at her. “Yeah, of course, Mom.”

“Huh. If his room is basically free… I could save a lot of money on rent,” Shinso said teasingly.

Inko turned to face the young man. “I know you’re joking, but if you did ever need a place to stay, we’re here for you.”

“We could get bunk beds,” Izuku said cheekily.

“You would. Just like that, wouldn’t you?” Shinso said, a hint of emotion slipping into his usually bored tone.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?” Izuku blinked at him owlishly.

Shinso shook his head. “About to give you a pair of socks.”

Izuku looked scandalized and covered his mouth with his hand. “Excuse you. I have a boyfriend.”

Both boys laughed. Inko was confused by the inside joke, but they were all laughter and smiles after that, so she let it go.

 

Dabi waited until the bitch thought he’d fallen back to sleep and stealthily recorded her bending over gratuitously to reorganize the mini-fridge. She glared at him when she stood up, and her hair was a mess.

“Pay backs a bitch,” he told her. He posted the video to the thirst trap account, with the same old song; the hard transition timed for when she’d caught him.

 

Rei Todoroki tossed and turned in her sleep. The nightmare was repeating over and over. Shoto walked into the kitchen as she was on the phone to her mother. … And Shoto, that child’s left side sometimes feels unbearable to me. All I can see is his father. I can’t raise him anymore. I want to run away from this life.

“Mom? What are you saying?” his tiny voice had asked.

The kettle shrilled at that moment. Her mind shied away from the horrors that followed.

 

While Izuku was finally able to sleep, he still found it difficult to fall asleep alone. He took comfort in his shadow curling around him, but he felt an aching loneliness as he lay in the dark living room; being on the couch helped a bit. He pressed against the back of the couch and played ‘deep sleep music’ on his phone. Eventually, exhaustion won.

Fragmented images flashed before his eyes: muzzle flash and a splatter of brains and blood, a rush of branches and leaves, Aizawa’s bare torso and writhing scarf, blue flames and teal eyes, shifting shadows and blade-like teeth, Yagi’s scar, red tinged light glinting off of Stain’s katana, Rose Red’s severed head, a thick, blood covered spike.

Izuku sat bolt upright, gasping for air. His shadow groped around the room as he panted. He flipped through his loved ones with Search. His mother was in her room; her heart rate and temperature letting him know that she was safely sleeping. Yamada was in his and Aizawa’s condo, most likely fixing himself an early breakfast. Yagi was there as well, dozing fitfully. Aizawa was out, likely on patrol, given his slightly elevated heart rate. Tomura and the League were fairly far away, on the coast of the northern part of Japan. Their jumbled location told him they were together and probably in the warehouse. Shoto, Shinso, Mei, and the rest of his schoolmates were spread around Mustafa and mostly asleep, and either well or recovering, with the occasional indication of hunger.

“Huh,” Ragdoll said. “I didn’t expect you to be able to look at so many people at once.”

“Don’t get me wrong, my head is pounding and I’m only processing basic information, like location and general well-being. None of them are scared or in pain. Everyone is safe,” he told her as he slipped on his shoes and checked that his pajamas – a pair of Pixie-Bob blue track pants and a white tee that said ‘Flannel’ – were appropriate to go out jogging in. “I can check on the Cats if you’d like.”

“Please,” she replied softly. Izuku got the impression that she had access to at least the information he processed from the way she smiled, softly and wistfully, but relieved at the same time. 

The neighborhood was bathed in the dim blue-gray light of pre-dawn. The streets were desolate and lonely. He quickly took to parkour, leaping up walls and running across rooftops. He was six blocks from home and cutting through a park when his phone rang.

“Hey.”

“Izuku, where are you?” his mother asked.

“Oops. I’m out for a jog. I meant to text you. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Hurry back, young man.”

“Actually, I’m almost to Plum Blossom Cafe. I was going to pick up breakfast.”

“Are they even open yet?”

“Yeah, they do a limited menu this early, but they have quiche and croissants.”

Inko sighed. “Get me something healthy. Shinso, honey, what would you like for breakfast?”  There was a pause. “He’d like an omelet if they’re making them; loaded with veggies.” Izuku heard her tell Shinso, “We’re not spoiling you, dear. You’re a guest!”

“Sure,” Izuku laughed. He made things simple by ordering three vegetarian, egg white omelets with cheddar, mozzarella, and feta, and three smoked salmon and cream cheese croissant sandwiches with alfalfa sprouts; All healthy but filling as well.

 

“Have a seat,” Hound Dog said in his usual, pleasant tone.

Shoto sat in one of the chairs at his desk. “I talked with my mother again.”

“And how did that go?”

“It was better,” he said unconvincingly.

“Mm,” Hound Dog hummed. “Better how?”

He was quiet for a long time before he replied. “Mom told me about why she–why she…” he touched his face. “Dad was hitting her a lot and yelling at her. He was always angry, always directing it at her for no reason. She was talking to grandma on the phone one day, while Natsuo and Fuyumi were at school. I got up from my nap early and wandered into the kitchen. She just broke inside when she saw his eye, his face, him staring at her when she was supposed to be safe. She lashed out. I shouldn’t blame her.”

“Shoto, she hurt you.”

“That’s what Izuku and Natsuo said.”

“They’re right. Whatever the reasons, a person has to take responsibility for their actions.”

“But she was going through a lot.”

“Let me explain like this,” Hound Dog said. “It doesn’t matter what Endeavor was going through; he hurt you and your mother and neglected your siblings. What he did was wrong, and nothing justifies that.” He waited for Shoto to nod his understanding. “Why is your mother not held to the same basic standard?”

“She didn’t hurt us.” Shoto touched his scar. “Other than this, obviously.”

“I find that hard to believe. Abuse grows gradually. For her to do something so horrendous… have you talked to your siblings about it?”

“Not really, but if she was hurting them, they wouldn’t go see her all the time, would they?” he glared at Hound Dog.

“Why does Rei forgive Endeavor?” Hound Dog stared back at him intently for what seemed like forever. Finally, he stood and moved to the door. “Hang on. Let me get something.”

He came back after ten minutes, and Shoto was a little unnerved by the teakettle and bucket he brought back with him. Shoto moved to the couch, as far from the offending objects as he could get.

Hound Dog set the bucket on the floor where Shoto could see it, but made sure to keep his distance. He picked the kettle up and began pouring its – cold – contents into the bucket. It took a full minute.

By the time it was done, tears were streaming down Shoto’s face. He shook his head violently. “No, no, no. She said she was sorry. She said it was, it was a momentary lapse. He broke her.”

Hound Dog tossed the kettle behind his desk. “Easy,” he said softly as he approached the boy. He set his hand on Shoto’s shoulder. When he wasn’t rebuffed, he sat down next to him and rubbed soothing circles on his back. He comforted the boy well past the usual end of their session. Cradling Shoto against his chest, he spoke softly, “I think we need to bring your father into a session.”

“No.”

“When you’re ready.”

“Never.”

“Maybe,” Hound Dog agreed. “If it helps, I will never encourage you to forgive him. I would like you to identify specific instances of abuse and neglect so we can work on coping strategies, but I don’t think this is a good week for that. How about you journal anything good that happens this week, and see how we feel next week?”

“I hate him so much.”

“And your feelings are valid.”

“Are they? I do hate her, too. God, I opened up to that villain more than I have to you. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Years of abuse and neglect,” he deadpanned.

Shoto laughed. “He kept calling me 'masterpiece', and then he said that I was the only one Endeavor ever cared about, and I just lost it. I ranted and raved when I should have been fighting, but it felt like someone was listening for the first time. He just looked so shocked, like I’d shaken his entire worldview. She hurt me. He never loved me. That villain took it all in, and he asked me if I even wanted to be a hero.” Shoto clung to Hound Dog as his sobbing renewed. “She couldn’t stand the sight of me! She said my left side was unsightly, and how much can a four-year-old look like a grown man! It’s all excuses!” After a long time, his sobbing turned to sniffles. “I’m sorry for keeping you here for so long.”

“It’s fine. Healing takes as long as it takes. You don’t have to rush on my account.”

 

Tomura was on the couch playing his favorite RPG, his feet in Toga’s lap. There were spreaders between his toes as she painted each nail a slightly different shade of red. Kurogiri chose not to comment.

“It should be the day he became Stray,” Tomura said firmly.

“That would be more like his birthday,” she countered.

“Do we need to celebrate them separately?” he asked, exasperated.

“Well, no, but his birthday would be about him, and the anniversary of his joining the league would be for all of us.”

“But he wasn’t part of the League until he became Stray!”

Kurogiri cocked his head and considered this. “You accepted him as family then, but we were working toward that goal from the start. And there wasn’t really a League until the attack on All Might.”

“Yeah,” Tomura agreed slowly. “But…”

“We could have a little celebration this year,” Toga suggested, “and see how we like it.”

“Fine, but I'm picking where,” Tomura agreed.

“That’s good,” Kurogiri said with a nod. “He earned his name in October. We could do something then.”

“Sure. That way we don’t have to wait until next April.”

“And it won’t overlap with your birthday.”

 

Yagi arrived at the apartment just after four and would spend the night so they could leave early in the morning. He had a single small carry-on bag with him.

“Ah, Izuku is the same way,” Inko said, “but I don’t know what to pack!”

“Oh, I just added a few things to my usual go bag,” Yagi replied. 

“Go bag?”

“Yeah, it’s a pre-packed emergency bag, in case of a disaster,” Yagi explained. “Couple of changes of clothes, spare ID, cash, meds, a book, water bottle, and a wind-up radio. I tend to just throw my go bag into my carry-on bag and add toiletries and extra clothes if I think I’ll need them.”

“Momo, who learned it from Uwabami, recommends having toiletries in your go bag,” Izuku said. 

“Oh?” Yagi said. “What do you have in your bag, Izuku?”

“A small tri-fold wallet with an ID, a few thousand yen in cash, a prepaid visa with about the same amount on it. A spare, disposable phone, one of those older brick models. Clothes: a pair of shoes, three pairs of socks, five pairs of underwear, two pairs of pants, a pair of shorts,  a jacket, two tops, one long and one short-sleeved, and a pair of pajamas,” he listed off quickly.

“Oh, slow down! Let me take notes, baby.”

Izuku chuckled.  He repeated the list. “Pick clothes that are cotton or other natural fibers as they tend to wrinkle less. Then there are travel-sized toiletries: toothbrush, toothpaste, two-in-one, soap – I actually have a three-in-one, please don’t tell Yamada-sensei – hand sanitizer, and sunscreen. Lastly, a reusable water bottle, something for entertainment that doesn’t take batteries – in my case, a book, a composition notebook, a book of puzzles, and some pens – and headphones.”

Inko jotted the list down and showed it to Yagi and Izuku to check if she missed anything. After their confirmation, she asked, “Are you all packed, sweetie?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you start dinner while I finish packing?”

“Sure,” Izuku replied, “no problem.”

 

A sheet was hung on the wall behind him. His cold yellow eyes stared into the camera with hot condemnation. There was a slight delay before he started speaking. “If you are watching this,” Kurogiri said in a soft, melodic tone. “I have a message for you: you are going to be alright. Whatever it is that’s hurting you will pass. It will not happen overnight, however, things will get better. You just have to give it time.” His hands were clasped behind his back, and he was wearing the same outfit from his introduction.

Ibara felt hot, white anger ignite inside her. It was not a righteous and holy anger. It was fueled by selfish motivations, by a petty desire for revenge. Cold shame clashed with fury, roiling and steaming inside of her. She threw her phone across the room.

 

“Oh, that’s not the color I thought you’d go with,” Yagi commented when Izuku brought out his chrome DSR. “Does Toki like the color you picked for him?”

“While he does like it, he fell in love with a different one, and I just couldn’t say no. It made him so happy,” Izuku replied.

“Oh? Was it the blue one?”

“No,” Izuku said. “It was the one I’d made for myself.”

“So, the red one?”

“Yeah,” Izuku lied. “He said it was perfect.”

“Speaking of Toki,” Inko said, as she sat down on the couch with her rose gold with metallic finish rainbow trim and I-island logo. “We should have him over to play this with Yagi sometime.”

Izuku chuckled nervously. 

“Sure,” Yagi said. “I’d love to meet him.”

“I’m not sure you two would get along,” Izuku mumbled. 

“Hmm? Why not?”

“Toki’s a sweet boy, really. He’s just a little rough around the edges,” Inko assured him.

“He has a hard time getting along with people,” was all Izuku said.

“We could ask him to play remotely,” Inko suggested. “Maybe tonight?”

“Um, sure, I’ll ask.” Izuku navigated to the message center and found Toki in his contacts. Hey, you wanna play Mario Party with us and Yagi?

Hell yeah. There was a pause, and then he added, It’s noisy here, so I’ve got my mic muted. I hope that’s okay.

Izuku accepted his voice chat invitation. “It should be.” He addressed his mom and Yagi, “It’s noisy, so he’s on mute.”

“Oh,” Inko replied, a little disappointed. “That’s alright, Toki. Why don’t you pick the board?”

A party invitation appeared on the TV screen. Toki was inviting them to a twenty-round game in the Haunted Mansion. In the special message section, he wrote, I have activated the nonverbal communication option for myself.

“They really thought of everything with these,” Yagi said with approval.

When everyone accepted the invitation, they were brought to the character selection screen. Toki, Inko, and Izuku once again chose the three princesses, and Yagi stuck with Mario.

Seriously? An aqua box with dark blue text appeared in the top left corner of the screen.

“What? He’s a well-rounded character.” Yagi adjusted on the couch, using one of the pillows to prop his leg up on the coffee table. “Oh, I hope this is okay. I get sore sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Inko said softly.

Izuku shot him a concerned look and pulled up Search. There was minor swelling in his knee and some damage to the cartilage. Yagi had the beginnings of arthritis in most of his joints. It made sense, given how physically damaging his career was.

Luigi has a higher jump. It’s not as good as the princesses’ hang time, but it’s better than Mustachio's.

“Not everyone is interested in optimizing, Toki. Let the man play his comfort character. He’s going to need it,” Izuku teased.

You and Mama Bear aren’t going to go easy on him?

“Never,” Inko said. “I didn’t go easy on you boys.”

“I don’t need my hand held,” Yagi objected.

Good to know you’re okay with getting your ass handed to you.

Inko laughed good-naturedly. “Toki, sweetie, it’s best to ease people into your rough side. Build up some goodwill and camaraderie.”

This isn’t my rough side.

Izuku chuckled. “She just wants you to play nice until you earn more friendship points with Yagi, so you don’t scare him off.”

Nah. If he can’t handle a few rough edges, he wouldn’t survive the real me.

“True,” Izuku replied. He grinned, his usually sunny expression turning momentarily cold and dark.

Chapter 96: Return to I-island

Bright and early Wednesday morning, two blurry-eyed adults and one inexhaustible teenager boarded All Might’s private jet and set off to I-island. It had taken them two hours to get underway, so as soon as the seatbelt light went out, Izuku popped up and grabbed Yagi a snack.

“Oh, thank you, Izuku, but, uh, I’m not hungry.”

Izuku blinked at him. “Nor would you be. You know that. Should I call Yamada-sensei?”

“I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

Izuku was silent for a long time. Finally, he sat back down and quietly told him, “I can call Inui-sensei instead. I mean, I know I try to control and manipulate things because of my anxiety, and that’s off-putting to most people. I’m not trying to be devious or underhanded here, Yagi. I’m being as open and honest with you as I can. I worry. I’m worried about a lot of things. Right now, this is one thing I can – kinda – deal with. It’s like a fidget spinner, it calms me down. I can focus on something other than that fucking tower and that, that noise.” He started wiping the front of his shirt as he spoke. Despite it being clean, the motion quickly became more frantic. “I was passed the smell, this is such bullshit. Nothing is wrong. I’m safe. We’re safe. Everyone is safe.” Izuku flipped through the list of people in Search, even checking on Ujiko and Sensei.

A hand, his mother’s, suddenly covered his face as he was pulled into a hug. “It’s okay. Repeat after me: one, six, nine, three, eight, five, two, four, seven, ten.”

Izuku stuttered out the list of numbers. “I’m sorry. I, I can’t.” He burrowed into his mother’s arms, heedless of his falling tears and running nose. He ignored the dimming of the plane’s bright lights, the beige carpet blurring into cold grey tiles, and the haunting memory of Sam Abraham’s lifeless eyes.

“I’ve got you, baby.” A blend of rose, jasmine, and vanilla with a clean citrus finish hit his nose. His mother’s perfume was calming him as she murmured variations of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘you’re safe’ in his ear. Izuku’s eyes slowly focused, and his heart rate returned to normal.

“Izuku,” Yagi began softly when the boy sat up and pulled his face away from his mother’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay. Everything is awful.” He sniffled.

“That’s not okay,” Yagi said.

Izuku shrugged. “Sometimes alive is all you get.”

“Yeah,” Yagi agreed.

“So why are you trying to deny me that?” Izuku asked his voice in a barely audible whisper, as though he didn’t intend to be heard.

Yagi felt like he’d fallen for a very obvious trap, like a box and a string. “I’ll eat.”

“Every two hours,” Izuku said solemnly.

“Every two hours,” Yagi repeated wearily. “I’m sorry I worry you so much.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a burden.”

“You are not!” Inko and Yagi said in unison.

“Feels like it,” he grumbled.

“Well, I’m sorry, baby, I let you do your own thing for so long, you forgot what having support feels like. That’s on me.”

“I could have asked for help at any time.”

“And the longer I let you go without asking, the less likely you were to ask.”

Izuku grinned a bit ruefully. “Still.”

“No still, only doing better going forward.”

 “Yeah, okay.” The three of them cuddled for the next two hours, after making sure Yagi ate. It was a six-hour flight in total, but he didn’t put up any more resistance to Izuku fussing over him.

 

Pony was finally out of the hospital. Kan-sensei had dropped her off at her apartment. She’d fixed herself a simple, unhealthy lunch of frozen curry and rice, and sat on her tiny balcony while she ate.

“Pony!” the blue-skinned little girl who lived next door called out. “Mama! Pony is back!”

“Oh, that’s good, dear. I heard what happened, we’re all glad you’re okay. If you need anything, I can send Yuziki over.” The mother had silver hair down to her waist and eyes like sapphires.

“Thank you! I am A-O-K,” Pony reassured her with a big smile. She tended to use more broken Japanese in public because people would either be extra nice to her or avoid her altogether.

“Hey,” Yuziki said, stepping out on the balcony. Like her little sister, her hair was pale as moonlight and shimmered when the light hit it. “Wash your hands for lunch, shrimp.” Yuziki was in her early twenties and a college dropout. Pony tried not to take advantage of her when the neighbor offered her help, because she worked nights. “Have you seen this new cosplay group on the Clock App? They just started posting stuff this week, but damn, it’s good, and they are going all in.” She flashed Pony a repeating loop of a very butch woman in a sleeveless red top lifting a man in a body stocking over her head.

Pony snatched the phone, dropping her food. “No!” She quickly ran inside to get her own phone.

Yuziki stepped over the railing to follow her. “What’s wrong?”

“League of Villains!” She quickly pulled up the app and searched the hashtag. She started sending all the videos to the Class 1-B group chat. “Attacked us!” she clarified, returning Yuziki’s phone.

“You gonna report them? Are you sure it’s not just cosplayers? The account I found them on was LoV Thirst Trap. I gotta say, they’re… very hydration oriented.”

“This one tried to kill me!” Pony tapped the looping video.

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll get you something to eat, and we can watch All Might’s interview with Aikon. It’s not new, but at least I know it won’t traumatize you.” Yuziki sighed. “I’ll get that cleaned up.”

 

 Magne was sticking sparkly pins in the map she had spread out on the makeshift table. There was a small key on the side of the map to indicate what each pin represented. Oranges and yellows were for overdoses, the few black pins for deaths, blues for hero and police involvement, and the eight different pink pins stood in for the varieties of Blush; with the darkest being Ombre and the lightest – nearly white – being Pearls. The bulk of the pins were divided between twenty cities, in arcs that fanned out from Tokyo.

“If Blush were a foreign product, other harbor cities would have a similar distribution pattern,” she murmured. Magne stretched. “Powder is the base product, and the others are derived from it. Cream, Tint, and Pearls seem to be the safest versions, but the high must be minimal because they’re not as popular as the more dangerous varieties. Cushion and Shimmer are popular with more upper-class users, while Ombre and Liquid – responsible for most of the ODs and fatalities – are favored by those below the poverty line.”

“These areas have all seen an influx of gang activity, specifically the Daybreakers,” Spinner added.

“So, they’re likely to be our distributors.”

Spinner nodded. “I know that drug runners tend to work in small groups for transport to the dealers.”

“So the tags for the Daybreakers are less about territory and more like advertising.”

“We need to get one of the distributors to flip on the manufacturers,” Magne said.

“Then we stake out one of the dealers and work our way up the chain,” Compress offered.

“Shouldn’t be too hard to find them,” she agreed.

 

The group was back to smiles and good cheer by the time they disembarked. Izuku briefed his mother on the layout of the island as they rode the autowalk through security.

“Ma’am,” the guard started. His name, vital statistics, and even his quirk flashed in Izuku’s mind. Alejandro Ferro, Quirk: Technopathy (allows the user to sense and control electronic devices remotely, fifty-foot range).

“Oh, not you again,” Izuku said with a chuckle.

“Your necklace,” he finished flatly.

“Oh, I had completely forgotten! I’m so sorry.” She hurriedly took it off. “Can I run it back to the plane? It was a gift.”

The guard stepped over and secured it with what looked like a piece of thin silver tape. It glowed blue for an instant. He side-eyed Izuku, who just grinned at him. “Welcome back, try not to breach our security this time.”

“Try not to let armed villains onto the island,” he returned cheekily.

“Could you please not antagonize the poor security guards?” Yagi asked.

“Aw, we were just exchanging friendly banter. I’m sure he knows full well that it was a software issue and not human error that caused the majority of the problems.”

“Actually, security has been a lot stricter since the incident. Your weapons would have been sent back to the plane, and her knife only gets through because it’s less than two inches. It used to be four.” Ferro bent down to look Izuku in the eyes, “And don’t think I didn’t notice the communicators in your pocket.”

“They make me feel safe,” Izuku said unabashedly.

“Yeah, well. They’re cleared at any rate.”

“Thank you!”

 

Half of Kaminari’s face was covered in bandages when Shinso walked into the room. An older boy was dozing in the visitor’s chair. He looked strikingly similar to Kaminari: slim, average height, messy blond hair, thin eyebrows, slightly rounded face, and a jaw line that tapered from their cheeks to their chins. Over all they had balanced, proportional features and were attractive in a run-of-the-mill way.

“Hey!” Kaminari greeted him exuberantly.

“Hey,” Shinso replied calmly.

“So, yeah, big questions out of the way first: I’ll be fine, duh. And the scarring should be minimal, if any. Apparently, faces heal really well.”

“Good to know.”

“You wanna play Among Us on the Retro? I think I saw you on Midoriya’s friends list.”

Shinso stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Kaminari. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Hey, hey. It’s cool, man. If you didn’t bring it, we can just talk,” Kaminari replied, patting him on the back casually. “But send me your friend code, okay?”

Shinso laughed into his shoulder. “Yeah. okay. I just –”

“It’s cool,” Kaminari cut him off. “Seriously. I know what you’re going through –”

“What I’m going through? You’re the one who got hurt.”

“Yeah, and trust me: it’s easier being injured than dealing with the misplaced guilt of thinking someone got hurt because of you.” He tightened his grip on Shinso. “I get it. I really do. I know it’ll be damn near impossible to let go of that guilt, but I want you to try, okay? For me. You didn’t cause this.” He gestured at his face.

“I… Yeah. I’ll try. I can talk to Hound Dog again. I wasn’t exactly in the headspace for it, right after. When we didn’t know that everyone was okay.” Shinso pulled away from the blonde.

“Anyway, I was thinking about dying my hair. Wanna help me pick a color?”

“Pink,” Shinso said dryly.

“I was thinking more like black.”

“You can’t pull off the edgy look even with a scar.”

“Bitch.”

Shinso gave him an assessing look. “Do pink underneath, then.”

“Hey, yeah,” Kaminari’s brother said groggily. “That way, I could flip them and we’d still match. But do a green, it goes better with purple.”

“You don’t mind that people get us confused sometimes?”

“Nah, that’s on them, I’m like six inches taller than you.”

 “Three,” Kaminari corrected.

“To be honest, I kinda get a kick out of the double-take most people do.”

“Me too.”

“Hmm. I suppose you could pull off a super dark green, but then I’m not sure about the pink.”

“Like a watermelon,” the brother said.

“It could work,” Shinso agreed.

 

David Shield met them on the other side of security. “Toshi! Izuku! It’s good to see you again. And you must be Inko. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she replied. “Your Japanese is very good.”

“Ah, thank you. I don’t get to practice as often as I’d like.” He turned to Yagi. “I booked you a penthouse. It’s only two bedrooms but the beds are huge and there’s an in-suite kitchen.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Oh, good, there will be a fridge to keep burgers from Snack O’clock.”

“So, you won’t have to go out at one in the morning for them,” Yagi teased. 

“I am really sorry for worrying you,” Izuku replied sheepishly. 

Inko arched an eyebrow at him.

“It’s okay, Izuku. Just remember to let someone know next time.”

“I will.”

David led them to the hotel to drop off their bags. The top four floors were split between two penthouses each. The balcony was a wide sweeping curve, complete with a current pool and hot tub. Izuku immediately claimed the deep-set couch for himself; he tossed his suitcase on one of the matching club chairs opposite it. The kitchen was small but stylish with a full-size fridge. Dividing the living area from the kitchen was a round, glass-topped dining table that was supported by a trio of swans carved out of black marble, matching the in-suite dish set. The bathroom was a blend of earthy materials and modern luxuries. The carved stone tub looked to be custom-built for All Might. The shower was equal parts glass and stonework. Everything was done up in warm, rich colors with soft gold accents and hardware, a modern take on art nouveau decor.

The bedrooms, opposite each other, had the largest beds any of them had seen: Alaskan king size, nine feet by nine feet, eighty-one square feet of bed. Yagi barely took in the flat-screen TV, mahogany dresser, and walk-in closet, as he lay down on the massive bed.

David chuckled and shook his head. “I wasted money on the view.”

“I think it’s breathtaking,” Inko said.

Yagi propped himself up on his elbow, his long legs still stretched out on the bed. He grinned sheepishly. “It’s spectacular, Dave. You should see it from here.” He patted the bed next to him.

David practically bounced onto the bed at this invitation. “Oh, whoa. The bed is subtly raised to take advantage of the glass walls, and the outer edge of the balcony is transparent as well. I didn’t know that.”

Yagi was wearing a white button-up and slacks, and David was in faded jeans and a maroon polo, but Izuku had to avert his eyes; he silently blamed teenage hormones and Nighteye for finding the scene before him at all seductive. Looking out over the island wasn’t the greatest for him, either. The blue sky stretched on endlessly, and the water sparkled in the sun, but the height made him nauseous.

“Are you okay, Izuku?” his mother asked softly.

“Yeah,” he said with a grimace and a nervous laugh. “Just glad I already decided on the couch.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” David said, starting to scoot off the bed. “I was mostly thinking about the bed size for Toshi.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I can’t let a little thing like crippling trauma slow me down.”

“That’s a very…”

“Flippant attitude?” Izuku asked. “Yeah, well, it’s a coping mechanism. I’ve already had a panic attack today, and I’m not interested in another one. Let’s go get something to eat before the jetlag kicks in.”

“Right,” David agreed. “That reminds me, room service is twenty-four hours, but they do a limited menu from midnight to six.”

The restaurant’s décor was like a nineteen-twenties American jazz lounge with round booths against the walls and smaller, tall tables in the center. The moody overhead lighting was complemented by their use of flickering tea lights in eclectic but coordinating centerpieces.

The food was authentic southern American soul food, very rich in carbohydrates and fats; very bad for a hero student’s diet and Yagi’s restrictions.  It took a little maneuvering but lightly breaded fish, barbeque chicken, and the seafood boil were all excellent options. Izuku tried the collard greens and fried okra for his sides, and Inko stuck to the safer green beans and baked sweet potato. Yagi caved and got a pulled pork sandwich, watermelon salad, and Brussels sprouts fried in bacon grease.

Inko went straight to bed when they returned to the room. Yagi stayed up to talk with David for about an hour before he, too, pleaded exhaustion.

“I can see him out,” Izuku offered. “I wanna ask him some questions anyway. And Mie will kill me if I don’t get an autograph for her.”

“Thanks,” Yagi said.

The pair left him to get changed for bed. Izuku made a beeline for his suitcase. He pulled out the Ziploc bag of spoons.

“Why are there three, um, samples?” David asked, looking at it

“Humor me, please.”

“Sure, sure,” David agreed. “I just wish I knew what all this was about.”

Izuku shrugged. “I… just need some answers. I know that’s not helpful. And it would be nice to have someone to confide in, but I really don’t have that much to tell you.”

“You’ll know more when I get the results back?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”

Izuku spent the rest of the night fretting and trying to distract himself with TV and the internet. Everything was uncomfortable and strange. The hotel had an odd smell he couldn’t quite put his finger on… No, the hotel and Izuku himself lacked a smell. He was starting to notice the absence of the League’s pheromones. He paced the length of the room like a caged animal, full of nervous energy. 

 

Shota grumbled as he received another friend request from one of his students. The I-island logo watermark behind the message let him know that they had either been at the expo or had been gifted the system. At first, it had just been Izuku, and only to gain access to Tomura Shigaraki, but it would look suspicious if he only had one student on his friends list. Kaminari had been the second, then all of the girls. He learned that Yaoyorozu had picked up the systems for them. This time it was Todoroki.

He grumbled as he made a Mii Room called ‘Extra Lessons for Students That Bother Me’ and placed them all in it. It did give him an idea, though.

Texting Yagi, he asked, Would it be an inconvenience to pick up DSRs for Tokoyami and Shoji? It might give us a secure way to communicate with them if we ever need to.

No inconvenience at all. Should I just get them for the whole class then?

No. When would it end? We’ll hold on to them until they come to us, or we feel the need to bring them in.

 

In the morning, Izuku barely waited for his mother to come out of her room before scent-marking her. The fluffy hotel bathrobe was both comforting and foreign. Izuku could smell the hints of bleach and detergent underneath the vaguely floral perfume.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Smells like… I’m missing something,” he grumbled into her shoulder. 

She nodded. “You didn’t have much contact with Katsuki-kun before we left. Or Mei-chan. I tried to stagger it somewhat by having Shinso-kun over. I guess it didn’t work as well as I hoped.”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of, like, it not working. It’s more of a learning experience,” Izuku explained. 

“Is something wrong?” Yagi asked, coming out of his room. He was dressed in his favorite army green khakis and a black tee shirt.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Izuku said. “My pack bonding issues are acting up.”

“Pack bonding?”

“Oh, did Inui-sensei not tell you?”

“Of course not,” Yagi said. “Anything that you discuss in sessions with him is strictly confidential.”

“Ah, good. Okay, so um. The healing. My healing comes packaged with some hidden mutations. Lessened sense of taste for sweets, muted colors, but better night vision, and slightly enhanced sense of smell, which includes the ability to smell pheromones. I can’t tell individual people apart yet, but I can tell if someone’s smell is missing, apparently. It doesn’t smell like colony.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah. You’re colony. It might help to mix your smell in with mom’s.”

“How do I…”

“Come here,” Inko waved him over. “Pet Izuku’s hair, cheeks, and shoulders with your dominant hand; humans produce the most pheromones from there. And, like a cat, Izuku produces pheromones from his forehead, and mixing his smell on others is just as important as him having theirs.”

“I see.” Yagi stepped into the hug and stroked both Izuku and Inko’s hair. Izuku alternated between nuzzling his mom and Yagi. The three of them spent nearly ten minutes just cuddling. Yagi’s eyes were damp when they separated.

“Are you okay?”

“Ah, uh, yeah. I’m just. I needed a hug, I guess.”

“Touch starved,” Izuku said. “We can help with that.”

“Yeah,” Yagi agreed softly. 

 

Kendo watched all nine of the videos on the League of Villains' Official account and then forwarded them to Vlad King. If it was just cosplayers, it was in poor taste, but there was nothing on the account breaking the rules, yet. If it was the actual League, it was best to let the pros handle it.

She flexed her hand and grimaced. It was definitely above her pay grade. While she would never shirk her responsibility as a hero, she needed more than one semester of training before she could take on a threat like them. Still, it was upsetting.

On the group chat, she asked if they thought the more responsible thing was to block the League hashtags or follow the accounts to see what they were up to. The class was evenly split. Eventually, Honenuki suggested that the two of them watch the accounts, and everyone else blocked them, so the audience was smaller.

That’s reasonable. I’ll let Yaoyorozu know as well, that way she can keep 1-A apprised.

 

Later, they met David and Melissa at a nearby café. Melissa suppressed a gasp upon seeing Yagi. She had only known him as Uncle Might. It was a sobering experience to greet the tall, thin scarecrow of a man as ‘Uncle Toshi’.

They quickly sat down, and a server brought them menus. “Hey, Professor, Melissa. The usual?”

David chuckled. “Nah, after last night, I’m in the mood for something healthy. What do you recommend?”

“We make a divine veggie omelet.”

After some consideration, everyone ordered omelets and a fancy coffee, except for Yagi, who had his usual small black coffee. Izuku opted for a latte made with heavy cream and topped with whipped cream. The server informed him it was called a crème con panna, for ease of ordering in the future.

They spent most of the morning sightseeing. Melissa was still a little distant from Izuku, but she warmed right up to Inko. Izuku ignored her glare as he handed a communicator to Yagi.

“Melissa, if I don’t want Izuku to hear something, I’m perfectly capable of shutting it off. My authorization is the only reason he’s allowed them during this visit.”

“He shouldn’t eavesdrop,” she huffed.  

“He’s training to split his attention and use his support gear effectively,” Yagi corrected. “I know you’re just trying to protect my privacy, but I assure you, despite my injuries, I can take care of myself.”

“That reminds me,” Izuku said. He turned to David. “He has to eat every two hours, so if the two of you go off on your own, make sure he does.” He handed David the to-go box with the leftovers from Yagi’s breakfast. 

“Izuku,” Yagi whined.

“No. Makes me feel better. I like knowing my people are safe.” Reminded of that, he flipped through Tomura, Toga, and Kurogiri with Search.

“He’s not really your people, though,” Melissa muttered.

Izuku bristled. 

“Melissa, that’s not nice,” Yagi chided. “Izuku is family, same as you. I don’t understand why his accidental eavesdropping is so upsetting for you.”

“Accidental?” she asked. “He literally bugged you.”

“I voluntarily accepted a two-way communicator, he did not bug me.”

“He should have shut it off.”

“I knew he was listening, Melissa. I could have shut it off.”

Izuku and Inko arched their eyebrows at him in identical expressions.

“Why is he entitled to know about your medical conditions when you won’t even tell Dad?”

“Ah,” Izuku said, his face lighting up with comprehension. 

Yagi ran his hand over his face. 

“Melissa,” David said, “let it go.” 

“But Dad!” she started.

“He’ll tell us when he’s ready. You know better than to push something like that.”

“About that,” Yagi said, “I was hoping that Melissa could show Inko and Izuku around while we talked.”

David nodded. “Yeah, no sense in letting this hang over the whole visit.”

Chapter 97: About Time

“I wish I could just tell Melissa that Izuku knows more than her because he’s more involved in all of this,” Yagi sighed. He sat on the desk in David’s office; his shoulders slumped, and his hands were clasped between his knees.

“So, as much as I’d love to explore that, I think I should confess first. You might not want to, uh, share after.” David rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Dave, whatever it is, we can work it out. I promise,” Yagi assured him.

The silence stretched between them until David broke it in a rush. “Sam and I planned to steal the prototype quirk amplification device. It’s all my fault. We hired Wolfram; they were supposed to be actors. I – I thought I could save you. Midoriya knows. He discovered us just as we opened the vault. Then Wolfram shot Sam, and he was going to kidnap me, but Midoriya tried to stop him; everything was a blur after that.”

Yagi gritted his teeth. While he blamed himself for not telling David sooner, he was angry that Izuku—and many others—had been put in danger. “David.”

“I’m sorry. I understand if… I shouldn’t put this on you, I should turn myself in.”

It was tempting to let him, but… “I need all the security footage from the incident,” Yagi said, his voice tight. His tone was colder than he had intended, but he was trying not to shout. “Copies of Izuku’s DNA results. And – fuck. Dave, what were you thinking?”

 “I didn’t want to lose you,” he said weakly.

Yagi ran his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I need a minute.” He strode out of the room, clenching and unclenching his fists to try to shake the desire to punch something. He made it to the stairwell before the urge to slam his fist into the wall overwhelmed him.

The metal plating that made up the wall was dented. His hand stung. He furrowed his brow as an alarm blared. He stayed put until security arrived and promptly handed over his visitor’s pass.

“What happened?”

“Sorry,” Yagi said. “I hit the wall. I didn’t think I’d damage it.”

The guard reset the alarm. “You have a strength quirk?”

“Uh, yeah. I didn’t activate it, though.”

“This is steel plating,” she replied dryly.

“Sorry,” he repeated sheepishly.

The guard sighed. “I’m going to escort you to the lobby.”

“Yeah, sure. I mean, that’s reasonable.” Yagi followed the young woman down the stairs and to the elevator. “I really didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“So,” she asked, “why were you punching walls?”

“Ah. Disagreement with a friend.”

“Might want to get that temper looked at, then.”

Yagi nodded. 

 

Izuku stared up at the central tower. It had only been two weeks, but all of the damage was repaired; you would never know that the tower had been host to a villain fight with Japan’s top two heroes. The smooth, light gray concrete shell looked white and pristine in the morning sun. A wave of nausea hit him as in his mind’s eye the damage, floating cubes, and writhing tentacles were superimposed over the tower.

“Spying again?”

“Trauma flashback to falling off the two-hundred-story tower, actually,” Izuku replied, a bit icily.

“Oh, Izuku,” his mother said, “I shouldn’t have agreed to this trip. This is too much.”

“Uh, no. This is fine,” he reassured her. “The tower is a bit much, but honestly, I’m having fun. I didn’t get much of a chance to explore or play tourist last time.” He smiled at her. “Wanna check out the artificial beaches?”

“All right. You will try to get along with Melissa, though?”

“I don’t have a problem with her,” he replied.

“That’s because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You assume that all time is of equal value; therefore, since you’ve known Yagi-san for longer, you have built up more value with him.”

She blinked at Izuku.

Izuku sighed. “I got to know about his medical stuff because I’ve spent nearly a year watching him manage his condition. He supervised my training to get into Yuuei, to help prepare him for teaching. My healing quirk is fueled by calorie intake, so we talked about meal planning and nutrition. I’ve been injured a couple of times; we’ve talked about healing and rehabilitation. I figured out his food schedule and restrictions through observation. My time with Yagi may be shorter, but it clearly holds equal value to him as yours does.”

Melissa glared at him.

“You hadn’t seen him in at least five years. A lot changed with his injury. You need to make those connections for yourself, rather than being upset that I have them.”

Slowly, her glare turned into a frown. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

Izuku shrugged. “I have an outside perspective.”

“Okay,” Inko said, “how about an ice cream or coffee, now that that’s over?”

 

“Good morning, Starshine, the Earth says hello!” Twice said in a calm and warm tone. He held out a steaming mug of either coffee or tea and placed it off camera. Then his tone changed to a harsh and tired one. “Shut the fuck up.”

Asuka laughed. This was the tenth video this cosplay group had put out this week. It was also their best. He took the time to follow the tags associated with the character. He didn’t normally consume villain-related content, but after the Stain manifesto, he’d been a little more open to hearing their side. He still thought it was bad business. But the League of Villains cosplayers were offering a much better suite of spokes-villains.

The introduction videos were serious and heartfelt. The separate thirst account was both sexy and hilarious. The regular TikToks were uplifting and lighthearted. It was a much better foot to put forward than the deranged ramblings and rigid black and white morality of Stain. This was something people, normal people, could get behind.

 

Yagi made his way back to the hotel. He didn’t bother going to the room; instead, he headed for the gym. While renting a locker, he bought a pair of black workout pants. He allowed himself a smile as he recalled Izuku telling him he needed a pair and a ‘you will hate me’ trainer speech. 

After a brief warm-up, he started laying into the heavy bag. The rhythmic whup-whup of his strikes relaxed him. The sting in his bare knuckles grounded him. It had honestly been too long since he was in a gym for himself. 

He worked with each hero course class about once a week; while there were currently only five classes, that still meant he was busy most days. Holding his muscle form for a full hour was exhausting. Then he had to grade papers. And find time to help Izuku figure out One for All. 

Heaven forbid he wanted a social life on top of that. He’d tried joining the teachers’ Saturday night out, but he just felt awkward and out of place. He couldn’t drink; he couldn’t even pretend to drink. Most of the food at their favorite place was greasy, sweet, or covered in sesame seeds. The reverence most of them held him in was worse; if he could power through his social awkwardness, he was met with theirs. He understood why Aizawa always dipped out early.

And a relationship was out of the question, given how disastrously his last attempt had ended.

Finding a therapist was going to be impossible. Even if he found one he could trust, he knew that All for One was monitoring him. Izuku had only been in a coma for a week, but a few visits had been enough for the villain to target and recruit the teen. He couldn’t knowingly put someone in danger like that.

Besides, he was going to die soon. As much as he wanted to fight it, it could only be delayed. And then only for so long.

“Hey.”

When Yagi turned to the source of the interruption, a small white ring was tossed to him. He caught it on reflex and realized that it was sports tape. He chuckled, wiping sweat and tears out of his eyes. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I’m fine,” Yagi said, trying to hand the tape back. “Really.”

“But you won’t be if you keep going like that.” The person before him was attractive but not overly so. They were neither thin nor particularly muscular. They were similar in height to Melissa, but with a much more square build. They had broad shoulders for their frame, but narrow hips. 

Yagi laughed. “Sore knuckles are the least of my worries.”

“I can tell,” they replied, brushing their bangs out of their face. Their hair, mostly pulled back into a ponytail that reached their knees, was a greenish shade of teal; the ends were sun bleached a yellow-green. Their fluffy bangs were cut to different lengths, from just brushing the tips of their ears to their shoulders. “I see an aura around people when they have bottled up emotions or repressed trauma. You’re lit up like a Christmas tree.”

“Ah. Well.” He stuttered and fumbled for a moment. “It’s not something I can talk about.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of that around here. If a secret project is stressing you, you should come by my office.” They handed him a business card. Their smile was warm and reassuring. Their lips were thin and just a shade darker than their tawny brown skin. “The active part of my quirk is called Mind Vault. Any secret is safe with me.”

Yagi looked at them suspiciously. “How does that work?”

They grinned, their dark turquoise eyes alight with enthusiasm. “Have you seen Johnny Mnemonic?”

Yagi nodded. It was a prequirk cyberpunk film, but there had been several attempts to remake it, some of them better than others. The main character was a data courier who stored information in an implant in his brain. It couldn’t be accessed without a visual code.

“Same thing, basically.” They spoke with their hands, which accentuated their long limbs. Each of their short, neatly trimmed nails was painted in different earth tones. “Our sessions would be totally private. I literally wouldn’t be able to access the memory without the code; a sequence of three to five sensory inputs that you choose. It can be changed anytime the memory is accessed. I’m authorized for projects up to level gamma.”

Yagi blinked at them. If they weren’t stuck on I-island, he’d think it was too perfect; a trap by All for One. “It’s a shame I’m only visiting, then.”

They blinked back at him. After collecting themself, they said, “That is a shame. The levels of repression you’re putting off aren’t healthy. You need someone to talk to.”

“Unfortunately, it can’t be helped.”

“My quirk can work over video, as long as it’s set up in person the first time. I usually recommend that one of the inputs be physical contact, like shaking hands, but that can be worked around.”

“That’s very tempting, but I can’t.”

“Test it out. Come by my office tomorrow.”

Yagi shook his head.

They sighed. “Fine, the hard way. I’ll lock having met you, you can see how it works without trusting me. I won’t even know you exist unless you come find me.”

Yagi sighed. “It would be easy for you to fake not having information.”

“Huh. Most people don’t think about that.” They frowned, and their shoulders slumped. They looked at Yagi through their long teal lashes. “Would you care to spar instead?”

“How long does the lock last?”

“A year without being accessed, then I run the risk of overwriting it.”

Yagi hummed contemplatively. 

Izuku’s voice came over the communicator. “You should give them a chance. Start small; trust has to be built. I can get Melissa to verify their claims if you get their name. I-island does very thorough background checks.”

Yagi touched his hand to his ear and replied, “Yeah, they did a bang-up job on Sam’s.”

“Now you’re just being stubborn. At least let us check them out.”

“Fine,” he relented. He read the information off the business card, “Taisir Irfan, Central Tower, Mental Health Department, suite one twenty-one.”

Izuku repeated the information, presumably to Melissa. 

“I’m glad you two are getting along.”

“We’re getting there.”

Yagi sighed. “Alright. I’m going to turn the comm off while I talk to Irfan-san.”

“Okay, don’t forget to turn it back on when you’re done.”

“I might,” he replied teasingly. Yagi pulled the comm out of his ears and made sure they were powered off before stuffing them in his pocket. “What time are you available tomorrow?” 

They pulled out their phone. “From six until nine. Because I have to process my notes with the client in the room, I book sessions for a minimum of two hours and intakes for three. It occasionally makes my office hours longer,” they shrugged, “but I see fewer clients overall.”

“Okay.”

“Can I get your name, tall man?”

“Toshinori Yagi.” He extended his hand to Irfan.

“Ahlan, Mr. Yagi.” They shook his hand. “I have an hour to work out, if you would like to join me in something a bit less self-destructive.”

 

The three of them walked along the pristine white sand in silence. This particular artificial beach, used for testing aquatic support gear, was noticeably artificial. The sand was too uniform in color and grain size. There were no shells, clumps of kelp, or blobs of half-eaten jellyfish. The decorative grasses that bordered the beach had yet to spread from their original bed. 

Izuku stopped suddenly and put his hand to his ear. “You should give them a chance,” he said, waving Melissa over. “Start small, trust has to be built.” 

She gave him a questioning look. 

“I can get Melissa to verify their claims if you get their name. I-island does very thorough background checks.” He frowned at the response. “Now you’re just being stubborn. At least let us check them out.” 

There was a short pause, and Izuku rattled off a name and location. Melissa repeated it after typing it into her phone.

Something said on the other end of the comm made Izuku chuckle. “We’re getting there.” He paused again, then nodded and replied, “Okay, don’t forget to turn it back on when you’re done.” The response made him pout. “He turned me off.”

“Phrasing,” Inko said quietly. 

“Mom!”

“What?”

“Seriously,” Izuku said, shaking his head, “not okay.”

“You’re right. I should have gone with ‘that’s what she said. ’”

Izuku laughed.

“So, you really can’t hear what’s going on now?” Melissa asked.

“Of course not.” He took the receiver out and offered it to her.

After wiping it down, she put it in and heard only silence. “Maybe, I overreacted.”

“Nah, you were just displacing your emotions. It’s easier, safer to be mad at me than deal with Yagi’s very near, inevitable death.”

Melissa stared at him in stunned silence.

“Izuku, that’s not nice.”

“Ah, sorry. My favorite coping mechanism is minimalization. Or as Inui-sensei likes to call it, being flippant with my mental health.”

Inko sighed.

“It’s not that bad, I’m functional.”

“I don’t want functional, baby, I want happy and healthy.” She hugged him.

“Halfway there! I don’t think I get sick anymore, and I heal in a fraction of the time,” he joked, leaning into the hug. He rubbed his cheek against hers, trying to pick up scents that weren’t there.

“But you’re not happy?” She rubbed her hand over his face playfully.

Izuku shrugged. “I have my moments. It’s been a lot better this year. Last year wasn’t that bad either.” He paused. “Despite the coma.”

“You were in a coma?” Melissa sputtered in surprise. 

“Yeah, but it was only for a week.”

“Two weeks,” Inko corrected. 

“I was in the hospital for two weeks, and I was out of the coma after like eight days.”

“Ten.”

“I woke up the first time in the middle of the night, so closer to eight, eight and a half. Basically, a week.”

“The hospital says you were in a coma for ten days.”

“Wow. He does minimize.”

“Oh, this is nothing, you should see him compartmentalize.”

“Is it bad?”

“School, social, and home; never the twain shall meet. He joined a gym and made some friends there. It took more than a year, and me putting my foot down about it, before he introduced me to any of them.”

“I brought Shoto over pretty quickly.”

“And I am so proud of you. You’ve made so much progress in such a short amount of time.”

“Thanks.” He blushed.

Melissa regarded the pair thoughtfully. Despite her first impression of Izuku, the pair were shockingly open about themselves and their lives. They talked about Izuku’s mental health issues openly, as if she were a trusted friend or family member.

“Hey, Izuku?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you… I mean, if you had to define I,t what would you say our relationship is?”

“Oh. Uh… I guess I see you as a kinda cousin,” he replied without thinking about it. Melissa could see the moment his brain caught up with his mouth. His jaw clicked shut, and he went from a light fading blush to a heated red. “I, uh, I mean, you plan on staying in contact with-with Yagi, and he’s a big part of my life now, so while we’re not necessarily close, we will have to tolerate each other for his sake.”

Inko smiled at him indulgently, though there was a shadow of concern behind her expression.

“So,” Melissa said slowly, “You see me as family because you see Uncle Toshi as family?”

Izuku took a moment to calm down before answering. “Yeah? I guess. He spent a lot of time training me over the last year. We’re close.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little quick?”

“No,” Izuku said flatly. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned to watch a one-person craft being tested in the water.

“It’s just you haven’t really known him that long.”

“Quality versus quantity.”

“You know you’re pretty arrogant.”

“Ha. Jokes on you, I have crippling self-worth issues.”

“How?” She gestured at Inko.

“Oh, no; it has nothing to do with her. My quirk was super weak and passive until the coma, I guess, kicked it into overdrive. So I was diagnosed as quirkless and was relentlessly bullied because of it.”

“Didn’t your teachers do anything?”

“Does participating count?”

“That’s horrible!”

Izuku shrugged. “Yeah, but I didn’t know that at the time. It’s like that boiling a frog analogy. You put it in a hot pot, it hops right out, but if you turn the heat up slowly, it gets used to the temperature until it dies. That’s what happened to me.”

Inko covered her mouth and was fighting back tears.

“Oh, fuck. No! I didn’t mean it like that! I would never! Mom, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay.” He hugged her closely and stroked her hair.

“I know, baby, I know,” she replied tearfully.

 

David started organizing the medical data he had on All Might. It would be easier to destroy that way. After all, how could Toshi ever trust him again? His actions had led to the death of a man.

A close friend of his, no less. At least David had thought they were close. In the end, Sam had valued money and acclaim over friendship and ideals. Not that it made him any less guilty.

He wondered if Toshi would turn him in. It would be the right thing to do. And he deserved it. He got a man killed; he should spend the rest of his life in jail.

And so many people were put at risk. It didn’t matter that he thought they were actors; they were committing a crime. Sam’s death was as much his fault as it was Wolfram’s.

But that begged the question: why didn’t Wolfram turn him over? It was most likely to blackmail him. And while he had no intention of going along with it, it still made him more of a liability to Toshi. 

David sat at his desk - across from Sam’s empty one - and wept into his hand. He’d only wanted to make the world a better place, to help his friend, but it all went so horribly wrong. 

And there was nothing he could do to fix it.

 

Koda didn’t care if the account got shadow-banned, even if he was normally very courteous about those kinds of things. The League of Villains cosplay group was equal parts entertaining and disturbing. The cohesive outfits made them look even more intimidating. They came off as organized, and their TikToks were well thought out. Several of them made veiled, and not so veiled, references to All Might.

Magne chuckled. “Princess? No, honey, I’m your queen. You should bow before royalty. Better yet, get on your knees where you belong.” She reached out to the camera and lowered it roughly.

He knew he shouldn’t be on the thirst channel as he was only sixteen, but he spam liked all their videos anyway. It was odd that this account had more videos than the main one, but he would give that account the same treatment later in the week, as it had a stricter posting schedule.

 

They met Yagi at the hotel. He had opted not to put the communicator back in after his workout, then showered and changed into a nice burgundy button-up and black slacks. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Izuku asked instead of greeting him.

“Hello to you, too,” Yagi replied. “I had a very nutritious smoothie for lunch, and I finished it later.”

“More than two hours ago?”

Yagi sighed. “I should eat soon.”

“Okay, good.” Izuku turned to Melissa, “Where do you recommend we get dinner?”

“Castillo, it’s a little Mexican place that specializes in seafood dishes.”

“Might be a little spicy for Yagi, but we’ll try it,” Izuku agreed.

“I’ll call Dad and let him know to meet us there.”

“Fuck,” Yagi said. “I didn’t mean to leave him hanging all day.” 

“You guys can hug it out after we eat,” Izuku suggested.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Papa. We’re having dinner at Castillo, meet us there.” She paused to listen to his response. “No, Toshi wants you there. Should I give him the phone so he can tell you himself?” Melissa dutifully handed the phone over.

“Dave, I’m sorry, I–” he paused. “I know, but. I just needed to cool off. My emotions have been getting away from me, and I didn’t want to say or do something to endanger our friendship.” There was a long silence. “Please. I want to talk to you. I’ve made my share of mistakes. And I may have some kind of good news, potentially.” After a moment, he said, “See you soon,” and hung up the phone.

When David arrived at the restaurant, Yagi hugged him as if they hadn’t seen each other in years, rather than just this morning. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing you could do that–”

“You don’t know that, Dave. I’ve kept things from you, information you needed,” Yagi told him in a hushed voice. “But that will have to wait at least a little longer. In other news, I may have found a therapist. Melissa’s going to look them up to make sure they’re legit, but I have an appointment to see them tomorrow.”

“That’s great, Toshi,” David said. “What’s different, now, that you sought one out?”

He shrugged. “Working at Yuuei, with the kids, Izuku, a lot of little things, I guess.”

David nodded.

They were seated by a young woman in a deep plum blouse. “What would you like to drink?”

“Margaritas all around?” David said jokingly.

“Dad,” Melissa scolded, “Izuku is only fifteen.”

“Sixteen, and while I don’t drink,” Izuku interjected, “it isn’t treated as that big of a deal in Japan. Most middle schoolers have tried beer.”

Melissa made a face.

“Americans,” the hostess sighed, “drink like fish, but clutch their pearls tighter than clams about the mere idea of alcohol below the age of twenty-one.”

Izuku nodded. “Ooh. Horchata.”

Yagi and Inko ordered the hibiscus tea, David got a Café de Olla (coffee flavored with cane sugar and cinnamon), and Melissa ordered a mango soda.

“I’ll get those right out. Your server will be Loretta.”

“Thank you,” David replied. After she left, he turned to Yagi. “So what time is your appointment?”

“It’ll start at six and finish around nine,” Yagi replied.

“We’ll pack you a snack, then,” Izuku piped up.

“I’m sure,” he said dryly.

Izuku nodded. He checked Yagi for any vitamin or mineral deficiencies to start planning his bento.

Toshinori Yagi, age: fifty, biological sex: male, height: seven feet two inches, weight: one hundred eighty-two pounds, BMI: 17.3, blood pressure: one hundred twenty-six over eighty, oxygen saturation: ninety, pulse: sixty, respiration: fourteen, blood sugar: ninety-nine, vitamin deficiencies: vitamin B12, vitamin D, Iron, skin damage: bruising on right hand over second and third metacrapo-phalangeals, muscle damage: minor damage to right internal oblique, left internal oblique, right external oblique, left external oblique, joint damage: cartilage tear in right knee, minor Osteoarthritis in right elbow, right wrist, right and left hands all joints, left and right knees, and left ankle, bone damage: fractured in second metacarpal, bone density: Two point five, dehydration: mild, hunger: none, fatigue: minor, Quirk fatigue: none, Quirk damage: none, Quirk: Reassuring Smile – Able to calm emotions, primarily fear, and inspire confidence in individuals that can see the user smiling, emitter, active, while smile is maintained, no concentration, no accumulation, range three hundred feet, and C-tier strength. Q̴͕̀u̶͕̕i̶̼̒r̶͖̓k̵̟͘ ̷͙̀S̵͈̚ť̶̩ỏ̸̺r̷̮̚a̸͊ͅģ̷͋ë̷̦́ ̴̘̏ ̴͚͠–̴͇̀s̴̭̓t̴̬̒o̸̡͒r̶̭͊è̶̻s̶̈́͜ ̶̡̾c̸̦͐o̸͈̓p̴̼̀i̷̟͒ė̶̘ş̵̛ ̸̲͑ǒ̴̺f̷̺͑ ̸̩̓a̴̮͛c̴̳̎q̵͓̋u̶̜̅i̵̧͐r̶̝̾ē̶̡ḏ̸̈́ ̷͖͒q̷̢͊u̵̱̅i̷̦͠r̴̻̈́k̴̟̕s̸͉̊,̷͜͠ ̵̗̒a̵͖̎l̵̫̔l̷̡͐o̶̲͘w̵̚͜s̸̝͘ ̶̙̀t̶̹͝h̴͚͆e̴̠͂ ̵̢͝ǘ̶͓s̶̪̉ḛ̸̀ṟ̸̃ ̸͉̽t̷̥̉o̷̯͠ ̶̥́ạ̵̛c̵͙̀c̴̱̊ȩ̴̏s̷̫̒s̸̡̐ ̶̺́ạ̶̋n̶̬̄d̵̪͒ ̷̒͜ǔ̵̝t̴̞̑í̷̲l̷̯͝ȉ̵̩ś̷͖e̶͔̒ ̴̺́ș̵̾t̴̛̮o̴̥͂r̶͓͑ĕ̸̖ḓ̷͌ ̶̢̿q̵̱͠u̶͜͝ȉ̵͈r̶̺͝ķ̵͘s̴̤̐,̸̲̒ ̵̺̎e̷̪͑m̵̗̒i̶̹͛t̵̂͜t̸̹̆é̸̻r̸̤̉,̷̪́ ̵̨́p̸̠̄a̷̠̓š̶̖s̷̥̒i̶̬̇v̶͇́ë̵̯,̶̢͂ ̸̭͆n̸͇̚o̸͙͊ ̵̺̈́c̴̨͛ő̴̢n̸͈̋c̴̮̄e̸̚ͅń̶͜t̵̫̉r̵̠͝a̷̖͐ẗ̸̫i̵̛̭ȏ̷͖ṉ̷̏,̶̬̔ ̵̰͝n̸͈͐ö̴́ͅ ̶͔̒a̵̩͂c̷͙͑č̸̣u̶̻͂m̸̬̃u̶̬̿l̵̹̏a̶̖͝t̵̝́i̵̖̾o̷̝͒n̸̯̂,̷͈̓ ̸̜̈r̶̲̉a̸̢͌n̴̜̋g̶̺̉ĕ̵̞ ̴͎̕p̴̺͗e̷̖̕ṟ̵̚s̴͔̓ȯ̶̬n̸͖͝a̶̛͜l̴̫̿,̷̰͊ ̸̠͑ạ̷̎n̵̘̆d̸̡́ ̵̨̓S̸̲͒Ś̴̟S̴̅ͅ-̴͙̐t̶̗̽i̸̯̾e̷̦͘ȓ̷̻ ̸͈̈s̵͕̀t̵͖͒r̸̲͝ẽ̵͇n̵̳͠ǧ̵̼t̴̖̒h̵̨̐.̶̪͌ ̶̤͒S̷̥̚t̵̪͆o̶̼͆r̸̥̒ë̶͖́d̸̜̆ ̵̝̿Q̶͔̕ų̷̋i̷͙̚r̵̨͆k̴̩͝s̶̖̎:̶͍͑ ̵̪͑Ṟ̷͝e̴͖͂…

The information quickly became illegible. Izuku felt like his eyes were going to bleed. He squeezed them shut to deactivate Search. When he blinked a few times and finally opened them, he was glad to be clutching the menu.

“Izuku?” his mother’s voice cut through his thoughts and pain. “Have you decided what you want? I was thinking about going with the Pescado Zarandeado. Am I saying that right?” She paused; Izuku assumed either Melissa or David nodded to her. “It’s just grilled red snapper with a mustard and mayo sauce. It comes with rice and beans. It seems safe enough; familiar with a little twist.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’ll…” he glanced at the menu “…have the stuffed crab. I know it’s a little expensive, but I could pay for Mom and I, at least.” The crab was sautéed with onion, garlic, tomatoes, and chilies before being stuffed back into its shell, then breaded and baked.

“Nonsense,” Yagi huffed. Internally, he bristled at the idea of Izuku using the money from that man for anything.

“I’m not taking your allowance,” David said.

“I have a job,” Izuku rebutted.

“That’s very responsible of you,” David replied, nodding. “I’m paying.”

“Fine, I can pay next time,” Izuku told him. He had missed their drinks being delivered and was at first delighted by his creamy Horchata; then the taste of cinnamon hit him. He had forgotten the trauma of the Blush incident, but this brought it rushing back in full force.

His skin flushed as he gently set his glass down. The spike of adrenaline and pure panic had him activating One for All. He took slow, deep breaths. The energy coursing over and through him was reassuring. He was safe. Nothing bad had happened. But it could have. He was strong enough to protect himself. But how long will that last? He wasn’t alone anymore. But there had been three of them; he was still outnumbered. He had been, but he was safe now. Yagi was with him. Mom was here.

His shadow sought them out under the table, and Search pulled the pair to the forefront of his mind almost unbidden.

“Izuku?” Yagi asked.

“Cinnamon,” he managed to say. “I’m fine. It’s just a flashback. The Blush thing.”

“How much trauma have you been through this year, kid?” David asked sympathetically.

“This year?” Izuku asked. “Let’s see… the training thing, the Blush thing, the tower, the camp; only four.”

“The thing with Aizawa, the mix-up with the final exam, the fall, and Sam should be counted separately, so seven, actually,” Yagi corrected.

“Wait,” Inko said, pulling out her phone. “If it’s not the thing with his teacher, what is the ‘training thing’?”

“Ah, class C helped out with class A’s make-up rescue training, and a building fell out from under me. It wasn’t that bad.”

“How bad was it?” she asked, turning to Yagi.

“Four-story building, but he activated his panic button and got help right away. It’s why he started talking with Inui-san.”

Inko nodded. She sent a short text and put her phone away.

Izuku grumbled. “Traitor.”

“You’re the one always encouraging me to talk to my friends and family about my issues,” he reminded the boy.

He pouted for a moment and then turned to Melissa with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I know I’m not supposed to challenge the support engineers, but my resources are generally limited to what I scrap together at Yuuei. I’ve already forwarded his therapist information to Aizawa-sensei to have them check it out. So, the other thing I can do right now is poke the engineers. Could you invent an artificial stomach? Is that in your wheelhouse?”

She was silent for a long time. “Not personally. I can’t do medical-grade inventions, but I do have friends who are specializing in prosthetics. We could talk to them tomorrow. We usually have dinner as a group on Thursdays; you could join us.”

Izuku nodded. “Cool.”

David commented, “Well, Inko, that just leaves the two of us. We can see a show, and I know a great little café we could go to.”

“It’s a date,” Inko joked.

“Sure,” David replied. “Sounds fun.”

“Papa,” Melissa said.

Chapter 98: Going Forward

David and Yagi split off from the group again, and Melissa walked Inko and Izuku back to the hotel.

“I’m sorry, I was kind of a brat.”

“Eh, I won’t hold it against you. Yagi is a touchy subject for many people. I get it. Sad, angry, jealous. All we can do is be better going forward.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“The hardest thing in the world.”

Melissa laughed. “See you two tomorrow.”

“Have a good night.”

“Bye,” Izuku replied.

The pair watched her until she rounded the corner and disappeared.

“Izuku, do you want to talk about it?” Inko asked once they were safely back in the hotel room.

“Mostly it was just embarrassing,” he replied. “The actual attack was a little scary, I guess. It didn’t feel like it at the time, but it must have bothered me. I mean, I didn’t like not being in control, but it wasn’t as scary as falling.”

“It’s a different kind of frightening, baby. I understand. I’m glad it wasn’t worse.”

“Yeah. I think the ‘what could have been’ is more traumatic than what did happen.”

Inko nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s like that with this.” She traced over the light, jagged scar on her arm.

Izuku regretted not doing more to protect her. It was an easier emotion to hold on to than his fear. “I wish there was something I could do.”

“I was thinking about taking a self-defense class. Maybe you could teach me some basics?”

“Hey, yeah. I’ll teach you how to use zip cuffs, too. And how to get out of them.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yes.” Izuku dug around in his duffle until he found a bag of them. He secured one around his wrists. “Okay, first method, disrupting the mechanism. See that little tongue in there, the locking bar? Wedge it up with something like your knife or the corner of a credit card.” He demonstrated by holding his room key in his mouth. The cuff came loose, and he was able to slip his hands free. “Next method won’t work on people with proper training, like the police, but you hold your hands with your palms down, fists clenched, butt your thumbs together. Maintain the tension.” He secured the cuff around her wrists. “Now, turn your hands so your palms are together and wiggle out.”

“That hurt a little, but it wasn’t too difficult.” 

“Good. The third method, breaking them like a boss.”

“Izuku, I don’t have super strength.”

“And you don’t need to.” He put the cuff back on her, making sure her palms were together. “Okay, first you tighten the cuffs as much as you can.”

“Tighten?”

“Yep, grab it with your teeth and pull. It will dig into your skin and might chaff,” he warned. 

Inko pulled the tail of the cuff so tight it was cutting off her circulation. “Now what?”

“Hands above your head. Elbows out so they won't hit your hips, and slam them down and back across your body.” He demonstrated by swinging his arms down quickly. “It might take a few tries to get the force right.”

They spent twenty minutes practicing this method with Izuku checking her wrists after every attempt to make sure she wasn’t getting hurt.

“There. See, one less thing to worry about.”

“I’m glad,” Inko replied, touching the heart-shaped knife that still had the silver security tape around it.

 

Sitting on the tar of the roof, Compress filmed the intersection below while resting the camera on the short concrete wall, barely tall enough to hide him. One teen would take the order, and the payment, and cross the street to the dealer. Another would take the Blush to the customer. It was an elegant system built with crude parts. The dealer never interacted with the customer. The drug runner never touched the money, and the money handler never touched the drugs. 

Unfortunately, recording the little network was boring. Everything ran smoothly. There wasn't an undercover bust or even a drive-by in a patrol car. He sighed and checked his watch. The most exciting thing that happened was that the dealer ordered food. The money runner was gone for ten minutes and returned with three separate to-go bags.

Finally, he was relieved by Spinner. Kurogiri’s warp gate brought him back to the warehouse and a plate of sushi. He helped Magne tighten up her delivery for the Middle School Expose. She was passionate and informative, but needed to work on bringing warmth and entertainment into her speech. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Magne, but you are a woman. Audiences will expect you to be more tender and empathetic.”

Dabi laughed. 

“Did I say something funny?”

“Big Sis not noticing that she’s a woman," he chuckled again. "Damn, man.”

He blinked behind his mask. “Ah. Well, yes. I suppose that sounds odd. Be that as it may,” he turned back to Magne, “You need to connect with the audience better.”

“Writing the damn thing was hard enough, why do I have to read it too?”

“Just the first one, then you can pass it along to someone else,” Compress assured her. “We can all take a turn. I think it would reach a wider audience that way.”

“Some of us are already developing a following,” she agreed, looking poignantly at Dabi.

“What?” he asked.

“Do you think he’s truly oblivious?”

“In so much as he doesn’t read the comments or keep track of our stats, yes,” Magne replied. “But he knows he’s attractive.”

Compress nodded.

 

“Can I talk to you?” Shota asked, leaning against the doorframe of Ryo’s office.

“As a therapist or a friend?”

Shota shrugged.  “A little of both, really. It’s about Izuku.”

“It may be a conflict of interest,” Ryo warned him, stretching.

“Yeah, I know, but it’s not like I can talk about it with my therapist. It’s an ongoing operation.”

Ryo nodded. “A leak would be disastrous.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he muttered.

“All right, what’s on your mind?” Ryo looked up at him.

“Sometimes I…” Shota sighed. “This is going to sound worse than it is, I promise. But sometimes I want kick his scrawny ass.” There was a short pause where Ryo didn’t respond, or rather, he didn’t interrupt. “Other times I want to wrap him in cotton wool. He's a kid; he shouldn’t have to deal with all this.”

“He’s done some bad things and should face consequences, but we can’t tip our hand,” Ryo agreed.

Shota hunched his shoulders. “And punishing him without telling him why would be counterproductive.”

Ryo nodded. 

“But I think, as bad as it is, it would make me feel better.” He shook his head. “God, that sounds so wrong.”

“You need to process your anger, but don’t feel like you have a productive way to do so,” Ryo concluded.

“What do I need to do?” Shota asked.

“Make a list of what he’s done, and then describe what you think you want to do because of it. Finally, write out what a fair punishment for the offense would be. Then we’ll discuss how and why the two are different.”

“Okay. Do you have time now, or is this homework?”

“You can at least start it here; I have some paperwork to complete.”

 

Sweating and panting, he swung a wild haymaker, but the hero killer dodged the attack and sprang forward, leading with a katana. Death Arms blocked with his oversized wristband and cocked back to deliver a devastating blow. “Who do you think you are? Judging heroes, people who put their lives on the line to help others!”

Stain spun out of the way, his blade carving a thin line up the hero’s bulging arm. “Were you putting your life on the line to save that blond boy when he was drowning in that Sludge Villain?”

“I tried, it was a bad match-up! I couldn’t do anything! None of us could.” He lunged at Stain, attempting to grapple the madman.

Stain dodged to the side, flicking his long tongue out to swipe at the well of blood forming on his arm. Death Arms gasped as his strength failed him and he dropped to the ground. Stain kicked him over onto his back and stabbed him through the heart.

“It seems you still can’t do anything.”

 

Dave dashed into his bedroom as soon as they were in his apartment. He came back just as quickly. “This has every scrap of data I’ve ever collected on you, so –”

He was interrupted by Yagi pulling him into another hug. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that what you did was unforgivable. I just needed time to process. I’m not in any position to judge. You’re my best friend; I want you in my life, and Izuku’s.”

“Whatever it is, Toshi, it can’t be that bad. A man died because of me.”

“Not to speak ill of the dead, but most of that is on Sam. He came to you with the idea, while you were emotionally vulnerable, and he hired Wolfram. But enough about that, I need to tell you this before I lose my nerve.”

“You make it sound like a love confession.”

“I wish it were that simple,” Yagi replied. “I’ve told you about Nana, right?”

He nodded.

“I was born quirkless. The quirk I have, that I had, is called One for All. It can be passed on to another wielder. The most recent drop in my quirk levels is from when I passed One For All on to Izuku. He’s my successor just as I was Nana’s.”

“That’s hard to believe, Toshi,” Dave said.

“As hard as a man ruling Japan’s criminal underworld with the ability to forcefully remove and transfer someone else’s quirk?”

“Yeah, right around that level,” Dave agreed. “So, that explains why you’re so close with Izuku.”

Yagi nodded. He took a deep, steadying breath. “Dave, promise me you’ll be there for him when I can’t.”

“We’ll find a way to stop it. We can save you.” He shook his head. “Izuku told me there was nothing I could do about your quirk. That I couldn’t boost what wasn’t there. But we can fight this. Sir Nighteye can see the future, but it can’t be accurate all the time.”

“If I had told you sooner, none of this would have happened.”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

“There’s plenty of blame to go around, I’m sure.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Sure, I am. Just not at you.” Yagi sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m angry at All for One, Wolfram, Sam, and myself. They never would have targeted you if it weren’t for me. Just like…”

“You had nothing to do with Sam hiring Wolfram.”

“He wouldn’t have if I had told you about One for All sooner, or at least you wouldn’t have entertained the idea.”

Dave shook his head, but instead of arguing, he said, “I take it from the names that the two quirks are related?”

“Brothers, in fact,” Yagi said.

“This is a lot to take in.”

“I know. At least you had bits of it already.”

“So, how old is All for One, if Nana got his brother’s quirk and you got it from her?”

“It’s on its ninth wielder. I think he’s about two hundred and fifty years old. He’s a first or second generation quirk user.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

The pair talked long into the night, recontextualizing facts and events with the new information. Eventually, they fell asleep on Dave’s couch.

 

It had been weeks since Rikido had allowed himself to bake with cinnamon or peppermint. Granted, he rarely did so in the summer months, but the ban made him want to. With no chance of running into Midoriya while the smells clung to him, he baked German-style cinnamon buns topped with copious amounts of chopped nuts, cinnamon castella, and cinnamon and sugar-coated French toast bites. On the peppermint front, he made peppermint macrons, various chocolate peppermint cookies, and peppermint cheesecake.

Following some of Midoriya’s advice, he played around with replacing some of the flour with sweet potatoes, yams, or black beans to add complex carbs to the mix. It did drastically change the texture, making everything denser and fudgier. It worked well with some recipes – the buns, the cookies – and not so well with others. Japanese-style cheesecake was meant to be light and airy with a little jiggle, and macarons did not take well to experimentation.

 

After his mother went to bed, Izuku booted up his DSR and navigated to Animal Crossing. He did a few chores and caught a seasonal insect. One of his villagers, a diva of a deer with white fur and purple eyes, rewarded him with a recipe for a peach chair. He promptly crafted two of them and sent one to his mother and the other to Toga.

Finding that Tomura (he hadn’t gotten enough sleep and could use a little more protein) was online, they played a few short rounds of Mario Party. They stuck to boards they had already played with Inko. Then Kurogiri joined them for a round before he and Tomura had to call it a night.

Izuku pulled up Kurogiri and Toga. He snuggled into the couch, wrapping his shadow around himself. He lay there not sleeping – an ache in his chest that Search probably wasn’t helping – until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He paced the length of the room, trying to scrub off excess energy but unwilling or unable to go out on the balcony to use the current pool.

At two in the morning, he called room service and ordered a crispy chicken waffle sandwich with tomatoes, cheddar cheese, and coleslaw on it. He substituted a spinach and arugula salad with toasted pecans and cranberries for the usual two sides. It wasn’t as good as Snack O’clock’s burgers, but there was something oddly satisfying about the waffles as a bun. He was glad Kaminari had turned him on to it, but it needed a runny egg yolk to be perfect.

 

Class 1-A had decided to handle the League of Villains’ TikTok very differently from Class 1-B. Momo was doom-scrolling the app when one showed up on her For You Page. She watched it, liked it, and sent it to most of the class, most of whom would also watch and like. The more views and attention it got, the sooner it would be taken down.

“If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands~.” Koi no Yokan let the silence hang in the air. “If you’re sad and you know it, drink some water~. Checkmate, bitch. Drink.”

Momo snickered and took a sip of water. If it were alcohol, these people would hospitalize us, she sent to the group chat.

They tried that, Kirishima replied. We beat them down.

Some of us were hospitalized, Jiro pointed out.

Someone linked a TikTok of Stray. The lighting was a bit harsh, and there was no filter on it. He was doing backward pull-ups with just his fingertips supporting him. It was a dead giveaway that the villain had years of training; she commented as much.

“When you have a bad day, give up,” his tinny voice echoed. “Go home and sleep. Fuck it. Try again tomorrow. Not every bad day can become a good day. Some days are just fucked.”

His words were both harsh and encouraging, but that dichotomy seemed to run through the entire League. They were violent criminals, but they were on TikTok handing out praise and validation just like any cosplayer on the app.

Ugh. Can we have one conversation without posting the trash cat? Uraraka asked.

No, Bakaneko is my favorite trash villain, Mina replied.

Why?

He’s cute for one. But also, in his introduction, he says that love, support, and kindness multiply. He’s not wrong, and it’s our responsibility to make sure it does. We are a light in the darkness, and we will light the path for others!

But he’s evil?

Yeah. Absolutely. Bakaneko is just the best of the worst.

DoubletheFun is best trash villain!

Tragic backstory is Tragic^tm

Non, BigSis has the better TragicBackStory^tm

Boohoo, people won’t let the muscular lady wear a dress. Cry me a river.

Momo laughed. We need to remember that villains are people too. However, their ‘tragic back stories’ are explanations, not excuses. They are not going about whatever they wish to accomplish the correct way. Even if we sympathize or just understand their reasoning, their actions are not okay.

The rest of the chat agreed with her, even those who were more openly sympathetic.

 

Yagi returned to the hotel early in the morning, and after he showered and changed, the three of them had breakfast in the hotel restaurant.

“Yagi, you should try the spinach omelet. It’s packed with B12 and iron. They’d probably add salmon, oysters, or shrimp for a small fee; it is an American-style restaurant. That’d help with the vitamin D,” he rattled off distractedly.

“Anything else I should watch out for?” Yagi asked with a small smile and a quirked eyebrow.

Izuku opened his mouth to reply, and clicked his jaw shut. “Sorry, they’re just really common vitamin deficiencies with your medical conditions. I know it’s creepy when I do stuff like that. Sorry.” He ducked his head and withdrew into himself.

“Izuku,” his mother said, “mind your posture. Oh, no, no. It was ‘mind your stance’!” 

Izuku sat up straight and squared his shoulders with a chuckle, remembering Toga’s chiding.

“You know, I hate that you felt the need to lie to me, but I do have to admit that Kuu has done great things for your self-confidence.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s… not alright, but it’s being taken care of. We’re getting to right,” she said reassuringly.

“Your observational and analytical skills are not creepy, Izuku. I appreciate that you care. I… letting people care about me is an adjustment,” Yagi added. “I’m sure you can relate.”

Izuku nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

“Oh, speaking of, I, uh, finished my conversation with Dave.”

“Did you guys work everything out?”

“Yeah. It’s, well, a lot, but I think we’re good now.”

“I’m glad.” Izuku turned his attention back to the menu. “What are grits?”

"Ground Dent Corn; it’s kind of like rice pudding.”

“They have creamy grits with sausage, eggs, and fried tomatoes, or walnuts, apple, and oh, cinnamon. Savory it is.”

Inko frowned at the breakfast menu. “Everything is so rich and fattening here.”

“But it is good,” Yagi said with a grin.

“You need to put on a little weight, though.”

Izuku didn’t feel any different, but his mother looked at the menu with renewed determination and selected scrambled eggs with cod and a side of fresh fruit and cottage cheese.

Izuku smiled softly to himself. Yagi had a quirk, even if it was tiny and weak. All Might’s winning smile was fueled by a quirk that calmed and inspired people. It was so cool. The remnants of One for All in Yagi also had interesting implications. It left an imprint. Yagi could still use it. There was something for David’s invention to amplify. The question was if it would damage the remnant to do so. Or was there some way to strengthen it?

But that was a pipe dream. Izuku couldn’t tell anyone and didn’t have the slightest clue about healing a damaged quirk. If the remnant even was damaged. Its fragmented, jumbled, and incomplete information could represent its natural state once passed on.

Izuku wished he could use Search on himself. It would be interesting to see how his quirk load-out was formatted. He wondered if the implanted quirks would be corrupted like Kurogiri’s were and if they showed up under his name or the original wielders’.

He was still pondering these and other questions when their food arrived.

 

Awase was ashamed at the thrill that shot through him when Spinner finally posted a pair of videos. He knew it was the real deal, too. The pink-haired reptile mutant would be hard to copy, unless you had a shape-shifting quirk (if that were the case, it could be the work of one person). The tight black tee showed off more of his opponent’s physique than his armor vest did. It was no wonder that the shredded villain was able to swing that bladed behemoth of a weapon around so easily.

“I’m Spinner of the League of Villains. I was born in a real backwater place, stuck in the last century. Around there, I was known as the Lizard Freak. And I just accepted it! That whole time, my heart,” he paused and gestured helplessly, “was totally empty. You hear things like, ‘A real hero will always find a way for justice to be served,’ but that doesn’t extend to the countryside. There’s no glory, money, or fame to be had out there.” Spinner’s face was surprisingly full of emotion for a reptile mutation; he shifted from seeming lost and helpless to simmering with quiet rage.

The second one wasn’t a very engaging video, but Awase liked it anyway. “Stay away from people who make you feel hard to love,” Spinner said seriously. “You are not hard to love. You’re just trying to be loved by the wrong people, but you are not hard to love. You’re a beautiful person.” He made the usually hollow words feel genuine. Spinner wasn’t putting on airs. Just as he wasn’t putting on airs when he’d told him, he was worthy. He was just being himself.

Awase wished there was more of him to watch, but he was hesitant to venture onto their thirst trap account. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Spinner in that light. Besides, his class had agreed not to follow either channel. 

 

Tomura sat across from Giran, idly checking his phone. The TikTok propaganda had blown up over the last few days, and he was liking all the comments on each video. It kept the engagement up, and occasionally, he would even reply to a comment or two.

Giran scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I might have something for you. They’re new and pricey, but...” he pulled out a case and set it on the table, “it might be just what you’re looking for.”

Tomura set his phone down and flicked open the case. Inside were six red bullets with needles on the tips. “What is it?”

“They temporarily erase a person’s quirk.”

“For how long?”

“So far, a few days, but that’s more than enough to give the kid an edge in a fight.”

Tomura nodded. “Sounds good. I also want to get him a sniper rifle. What would you recommend?”

“A seven-week course and a Barrett M82, or Steyr SSG 69 if you can get one.”

“See what you can do without drawing unnecessary attention,” Tomura said with a dismissive wave. “It really only takes seven weeks to train a sniper?”

“For the Americans, with a fifty percent fail rate. The Brits, and others, do twelve weeks,” Giran replied with a shrug. “A lot of it is learning different weapons and fieldcraft skills. You could focus him on just the marksmanship and cut the time down. He can pick the rest up as he goes.”

“Good, we can throw that in with the ninja training to keep him motivated.” Tomura paused. He looked up at Giran. “You wouldn’t happen to know any good teachers?”

“For a sniper? Not off the top of my head,” he replied. “I mean, unless you want to bust Lady Nagant out of Tartarus.”

“I’m not that desperate.”

“I’ll keep my ear to the ground.”

“You always do.”

“It’s good for business.”

 

Asuka had sent her a TikTok. “Good morning, Starshine, the Earth says hello!” It was a villain; Twice, if she was not mistaken. He wore a very identifiable mask, a black dress shirt with brass buttons, and a loose red tie. “Shut the fuck up.”

Ariyama looked over the account. It was a series of very well-done League of Villains cosplays. Something about them rubbed her the wrong way. There wasn’t a lot of information out about the League, and even fewer images. Why would someone pick them to cosplay as? And to dedicate an entire account to it?

The theme was also odd; uplifting affirmation and other ‘positivity’ TikTok quotes, paired with mission statements and tragic back-stories. It was all so humanizing. Villain TikTok was usually about larger-than-life characters and bombastic personalities.

She sent the video along to Kato and Aki to see what they thought of it.

The second video from Tomura Shigaraki was especially curious. She could hear talking and laughing off camera, and Shigaraki gazed fondly into the distance before turning his attention to the camera. “Some people look for a beautiful place; others make a place beautiful.” His voice was naturally harsh and raspy, but it was said with such a soft and affectionate tone. It was all wrong for the character, but she could tell the cosplayer meant it about his friends.

Chapter 99

Melissa showed up a little after four, so the three of them could review Dr. Irfan’s background checks together.

“Aizawa-sensei’s message was short and to the point, no criminal record, and confirmed they work for I-island’s mental health division,” Izuku relayed. “Yamada-sensei went on to say they have a suspiciously clean social media presence, almost nothing that’s not work-related, and absolutely nothing before they graduated from college.”

“That makes sense,” Melissa piped up. “They changed their name while going to school. I-island can confirm the clean criminal history, and add a spotless academic record, and two years of exemplary military service in the Turkish army.” She paused. “I also did some social media stalking for them. We Islanders tend to stay off the globally accessible stuff for security reasons, but on the I-island Internal Network, Irfan’s presence is pretty normal. They’re single at the moment; they have a lot of plants and a few easy-to-care-for fish in a ridiculously large tank –”

“It’s a plant tank,” Izuku interrupted. “The fish and snails are all cleaners, to keep the aquatic plants healthy.”

“Oh!” Melissa looked at the page pulled up on her phone again. “I guess they just like plants. Anyway, they post around three to seven times a week. One of which is always a food or coffee post, they sporadically post about hitting the gym or going for a jog, and the rest is plants and hangouts with friends.”

“I know you’re just summarizing, but that does sound a bit too clean and managed,” Izuku said.

Melissa shrugged. “It’s normal around here; everything is algorithms and automation. Routine is good, but a strict routine will cause issues, like burnout. There’s enough variation to prevent problems, and they have a diverse friend group with lots of different interests. There’s their running buddy, the photographer, the cook, the bee keeper, and the cottage core Goth.”

“Melissa,” Izuku said after taking a look at all of their pages, “That’s a Wiccan.”

“She can be both.”

“Oh, it looks like Dr. Irfan dated her three years ago, but they split up amicably due to work schedule issues.”

Yagi took this information in. “Thank you both.”

               

David arrived at the hotel at five-thirty, half an hour before Yagi’s appointment. He was wearing a forest green silk button-up and black slacks. Inko was in a dusky pink, tea-length chiffon evening dress, accessorized with simple silver jewelry: her heart-shaped pendant, stud earrings, and a pair of bangle bracelets on one wrist.

“When was the last time you went dancing?” David asked.

“Ages ago,” Inko replied with a smile. “My husband took a position overseas when Izuku was five.”

“So, you’ve basically raised him by yourself?”

“Yes, but Hisashi has always supported us. And he’s getting transferred back to Japan this winter.”

“That’s fantastic. You two must miss him.”

“I do, but I think Izuku, well, they’ve grown distant over the years.” She sighed. “It’s natural, really. Hisashi calls less. It was every day, even if he just left a message for the first few months. Then he missed a day here or there, but he came home for his vacations; two weeks a year, and he split them up, one in August and the other in December. The next year, it gradually tapered off to once a week, and he could only get away from the office in December. After that, the calls were once a month and special occasions: birthdays, holidays, our anniversary, and his big raise. By the fourth year, it was just the special occasions, and he couldn’t ‘justify the expense of a plane ticket’. And then, last year, he didn’t come to see Izuku in the hospital. I’ll be glad when he’s home.”

David looked grim for a moment, but didn’t comment. “We should get going. I think we both need a night out.”

 

Melissa laughed as Izuku set two alarms on Yagi’s phone; the first at six fifteen and the next for eight. He gave him a single bento box, but it had two eight-ounce water bottles, half a sandwich from his lunch cut into puzzle shapes, a pork bun from who knew where, a small green salad, carrot and celery sticks, and two peeled boiled eggs.

 “I could have just bought something,” Yagi complained.

“Speaking of,” Izuku replied, “let me know if you stop to get food before coming back to the hotel.”

Yagi huffed. “I’m not a child.”

“True, but you had all day to pack your own snacks, and you chose to let me do it.”

“I just didn’t get around to it.”

“And I did.” He flashed Yagi a brilliant, cheeky grin.

He sighed. “Okay. I’ll call if I stop somewhere.”

“Thank you.”

The trio left the hotel together and then went their separate ways.

 

The bar had an intimate vibe; it could hold about a hundred patrons. The dance floor was ten feet by ten feet. The décor was lightly steampunk; rich, warm wood and brass everywhere. The walls curved, blending seamlessly into the ceiling, which was made up of a diamond lattice with glass panes in dark ambers, muted greens, and dusty purples; a fourth of them were clear to show off the sky. While the deep blue sky blended with them beautifully, Inko imagined it was a breathtaking sight at night.

The pair sat at the bar instead of one of the more private booths ringing the dance floor. The first thing David ordered was a plate of sweet potato fries to share.

“It helps reduce the effects of alcohol and replenishes the nutrients lost,” he explained. “The sauce has a Greek yogurt base that will help line the stomach and keep the drunk-hunger at bay. And I recommend the grilled salmon and asparagus for the protein, antioxidants, and liver health.” David tapped the menu. “But they also do an excellent chicken, egg, and avocado sandwich that can be ordered as a lettuce wrap.”

Inko leaned in to read the description of both dishes.

“Bread, and white bread in particular, should be avoided while drinking,” he warned, “but eggs and chicken can slow alcohol absorption, and avocado is a good source of potassium. As are the fries, plus other electrolytes, and they’re complex carbs, so they also slow digestion and therefore alcohol absorption.”

Inko raised an eyebrow at him.

 “Oh, sorry. I, uh, don’t think we’ll be drinking a lot. It’s just, I perfected the science of not getting hung-over in college, so any time I drink at all, I look for menu items that fit the list of things to eat beforehand.”

 “It’s cute.”

 “They have a frozen yogurt we can get for dessert that has bananas, melons, and berries, which are water-rich to prevent dehydration, pack antioxidants, potassium, and electrolytes,” he said a little sheepishly.

 “Oh?”

 “It’s a tad off menu, but they offer all of them as options for the yogurt.”

She grinned at him. “And of course you take full advantage.”

“I’m not as young as I used to be.” He shrugged. “It winds up being mostly fruit, but it tastes fantastic.”

“Well, if it’s backed by science, I think I’ll try the chicken. Izuku and I eat a lot of fish, and it sounds interesting.”

 

“Ahlan, Mr. Yagi.” They shook his hand and invited him into their office at six o’clock on the dot.

“Ahlan?”

“It is merely a greeting, no different than ‘Hello,’” they answered. “Feel free to use either, or another that you prefer. I understand that the Japanese tend to say ‘moshi moshi’ when answering the phone. It is very cute.”

“Uh, yeah, with friends and family,” he said. “More formally, we use ‘Hai, our family name -desu’. It means ‘Yes, this is Yagi,’ but is considered polite, where ‘moshi moshi’ means ‘to say, or I speak,’ and is more of a casual ‘Hello’.”

“So: Hai, Irfan-desu?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Interesting.” They jotted down a note in a small spiral-bound notebook. “These are for notes that do not need disposing of after the session,” they explained. “You are free to look at them whenever you like.” They pointed to a single sheet of yellow legal paper on an electric blue transparent acrylic clipboard. “I will take your session notes there; you may read them before they are destroyed if you wish. The page will be replenished as needed. I do not use the pad because traces may be left on the next page.”

“You take this very seriously.”

“Security is a high priority on I-island, Mr. Yagi.” They picked up the spiral notebook. “As such, I am required to keep some information about each of my clients, even if it is just their name and appointment time. We will spend about half an hour or so today just talking and getting to know each other. All innocuous information one might share with a stranger. It gives me things to put in your file and a frame of reference for processing locked information. You are free to refuse to answer any question without explanation. And you may, of course, ask me similar questions; this part is a two-way street.”

“Is there any way you can avoid using my name?”

“I assume the reason for your request is something you cannot freely share; therefore, I cannot answer until we get to the vaulted portion of this session. I cannot say without knowing your circumstances.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

They nodded. “Have you ever seen a counselor before?”

“Recently, through work, I’ve had a couple of emergency sessions. Patchwork stuff while I find a proper therapist. I fall outside of his area of specialization.”

“Ah.” They simply wrote no and drew a star next to the question in the notes. “What do you expect from the counseling process?”

“Uh. I’m not sure. I mean, I know I need help with my temper right now.”

“Apologies, Mr. Yagi. What I mean is: would you prefer to vent and have me listen, or do you want a high level of interaction? A spirited back-and-forth? Prompting, perhaps?”

“I’m not sure. I could certainly rant about several things right now, but I don’t know if that’s productive.”

“It is usually at the very least emotionally cathartic,” Dr. Irfan told him. “How would you say you learn best?”

“Kinesthetic. I tend to learn best by doing.”

“And how do you feel about receiving homework from me?”

“I guess that would be okay.”

“Good.” They jotted a few things down. “These next few questions may be unanswerable until later. How many sessions do you think it will take to achieve your goals?”

Yagi shrugged. “Um.” He chuckled. “Sessions? No idea, but no more than a year.”

Dr. Irfan hummed at his response. “I’m sure that will be interesting when you can elaborate. How might you undermine achieving your own goals?”

“I tend to get wrapped up in my work and other goals rather than focusing on my own care and well-being. I focus on others. But lately I’ve also been more impulsive, reckless, and just angry.”

“How do you feel about using good advice to grow from?”

“I feel fine about it, but sometimes it takes a while for it to sink in.”

“How will we know when we have been successful in achieving your goals for therapy?”

“I honestly don’t think we will, but I can’t keep, just. I have to do something.”

Dr. Irfan hummed again. “Interesting. Do you not believe in therapy?”

“Oh, it’s not that. I’ve seen it help people. Hell, it’s a standard practice in my industry. It’s just complicated.”

“Very well. In your opinion, what is the best song ever written?”

“Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m a big fan of nineteen-seventies rock.”

“It is a fun era.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, probably… Gönül Dağı by Barış Manço,” they said, pulling the song up on their phone.

It was soft but not too slow with a mellow beat. When the singer’s voice came on, Yagi commented, “Oh, this is smooth.”

“Yes, and a little sad. It is about lovers who can only meet in secret.” With a wistful smile, they moved on to the next question, “What’s the best sound?”

“Good guitar riff.”

“Correct.”  

Yagi chuckled and sat back in his chair, clearly beginning to relax.

“What is your happiest childhood memory?”

“Um, that’s a hard pass,” Yagi said quietly.

Dr. Irfan nodded. “Most recent happy memory?”

He gave a soft smile. “My, um, friends’ kids packed me a bento to bring here.” He held up the little cloth-wrapped box.

“Oh?”

“I have to eat on a strict schedule,” he admitted.

Irfan arched their eyebrows.

“I’ll likely talk more about that later.”

They nodded again. “If you could know one thing about the future, what would it be?”

“I would like to know less about the future,” he grumbled.

They hummed again but refrained from writing anything down for that one. “What is your favorite animal and why?”

“Uh… well, right now it’s a specific cat. I’m staying with friends as I’m in the middle of moving. They have a pair of cats, a white one and an orange one. Orange one is a bundle of energy, always ready to play. Constantly getting into the fridge water, won’t stay off the dining room table, flings toys around with abandon. The white one lounges around looking majestic, cuddles constantly, and is always right next to his dad when he’s home. When they’re out, this beast will climb me to lie across my shoulders. Then he chirps at me until I can figure out what he wants. A glass of the crispest water? His favorite crunchy treats? Ear rubs? I will have to try each one to figure it out because he uses the same chirp for everything.”

They took a few notes, but kept looking at the blank sheet of legal paper as they did. “If your house were burning down, what one item would you grab and why?”

“Uh, I mean, where I’m staying now? The cats. If you mean one of my belongings. Gee. I guess the scarf my students made for me. It’s mostly sentimental, but it is custom-made for my height, and it’s so thick and warm. They were very considerate.”

“What would be the title of your autobiography?”

“All Alone.” He chuckled and shook his head. “No, no. No one can do it all alone.”

“What five words best describe you?”

“Pass.”

They nodded as if expecting that response. “What calms you down when you get angry or upset?”

“Uh, I usually leave the situation and then do something physical or throw myself into work.”

“Name two anger management techniques.”

“Leaving the situation and working out?” he replied hopefully.

“Yes,” they answered. “For a patch job. Name two positive values.”

“Resourcefulness and … endurance isn’t the right word. He’s determined; he has an indomitable will.” The alarm chimed on his phone, interrupting. He silenced it and tapped his bento. “Ah, I have to take this. I hope you don’t mind?”

They shook their head. “By all means, it is clearly a medical necessity.”

Yagi downed a handful of pills with a sip of water and began nibbling at his sandwich pieces.

 

“Now, I know you won’t get on anyone’s case about it, but just a heads up, my friends each have disabilities. We met in a support group in middle school. One of my teachers insisted I go.”

“My logic brain wants to interpret that as an after-school club for designing support gear, but your tone says otherwise.”

“I’m quirkless, Izuku. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Izuku stopped. He held up a hand to forestall any comments. Eventually, he said, “Several things. Several things, and not all of them useful. I hope that teacher got fired. I’m glad you made friends out of a shitty bigoted move. My quirk didn’t manifest in a perceivable way until after the coma, so we thought I was quirkless. I, naturally, have feelings about it. This isn’t about me. I’m glad you seem to be handling it well; better than I would.”

“You wanna use your newfound power to punch the problem away?” she asked as they started walking again.

“Oh, that would be cathartic, but no. I’m more of a meticulously hoard information until it can be used to destroy them from the ground up kind of guy. Punching is too impersonal.”

“You talk a big game.”

“I’m sixteen,” he reminded her, “I haven’t had a lot of opportunity.”

Melissa shook her head with a rueful smile. She turned and knocked at her friend’s door. “Hey, Fisk.”

Fisk was maybe four and a half feet tall with smooth, round features. His Cochlear implants were impossible to miss, with their fleshy pink tone against his slightly green-tinted skin and no hair to hide them.

A rigid fin started at the base of his skull and disappeared beneath his yellow Cinnamoroll tee shirt. His chipped black nail polish contrasted with his ripped white jeans and pink flip-flops. “Hey, Shield,” he replied. He stepped back, passed the other two occupants of the room to the microwave, hot plate, and single element burner in the box window. “Don’t mind the mess. I was trying to cook.”

 “And failing as usual,” a naturally tan young woman said, glancing up from the robotic hand she was tinkering with. Her short brown hair was only a few shades darker than her skin, and her large, expressive green eyes matched the olive drab jacket that was slung over her shoulders. The cream sweater and black blouse she wore were both sleeveless to facilitate the use of her quirk, producing additional limbs at her joints. Black skinny jeans and brown suede boots completed her very put-together outfit.

The last occupant was a blue-skinned guy with Vitiligo, long pointed ears, and wavy, shoulder-length black hair. The underside was gold, matching his irises, while his scalar were a dramatic black. He was the exact in-between of Fisk and the young woman stylistically. He wore dark green overalls tied at the waist, a white ribbed tank top, wielding goggles, and rubber boots; all clearly part of the I-island academy workshop uniform.

Izuku grinned as the four friends crammed into the tiny space. There was no bathroom in the dorm room, so obviously Fisk had to share the one at the end of the hall. The couch was the fold-down bed. The table was the desk, pulled away from the wall. The two stools were storage boxes that doubled as a dresser. There was a tablet and speakers mounted on the wall. The nightstand was a mini-fridge; the most luxurious item in the room. Everything was mismatched and in what was likely the ugliest color option available: hot pink, salmon, pumpkin, mustard, lime, pickle, mint, sea foam, and puce.

“Okay, Midoriya, this is Fisk, Escarrà, and Bakshi. Guys, this is Izuku Midoriya.”

“Hey,” Fisk said.

“Yo,” the blue guy said. “And it’s Sunil, or Sun, or Sunny. Or Sunshine.”

“¿Qué tal?” the young woman said. “Call me Emma, please.”

“Fisk, Sun, and Emma,” Izuku repeated dutifully. “Uh, and you can call me Izuku. Melissa does, so it’ll be less confusing.” Izuku sniffed the air. “Where did you get the water for your broth? It smells like copper.”

“Down the hall,” Fisk answered. “How can you tell?”

“Part of my quirk, I can smell and taste water. I’ve gotten picky about it.” He used his training from Toga to pick his way through the small space. “You need more garlic.”

“I don’t have more garlic.”

“Sad. Sad for you,” Izuku lamented. He began poking around at the few seasonings that Fisk did have. “Sad for us.”

 

As they talked and ate, Inko got a feel for the type of music the place played. It was an eclectic collection of dance music with a steampunk vibe. Waltzes, tangos, and minuets, mixed with salsa, funk, and techno. Swing moves were oddly common on the dance floor, but anything seemed to be allowed; a kind of ‘dance what you know’ situation.

“It must have been tough raising Melissa in such a quirk-heavy environment.”

David nodded but said, “It wasn’t so bad; she latched on to support gear right away. But with a hero-obsessed boy in the same city as the vaunted Yuuei, that couldn’t have been easy.”

“There were times,” she agreed. “I had hoped he would take up a more support or analyst role as he got older, but here we are. It is nice that he gets to live his dream.”

“Yeah,” David said a little hollowly.

“You don’t think so?”

“Oh, I just mean. I’ve seen what the job does to people. To All Might. To Toshi. It’s a rough path, regardless.”

Inko smiled bittersweetly at him. “I know. But it is what he wants.”

Nodding again, David took another bite of his salmon.

 

Yagi watched as Taisir Irfan’s eyes glowed violet for a moment. They stared intently at his image on their tablet. “Please choose at least two additional sensory inputs.”

“Your Barış Manço poster,” he replied immediately. Then he showed them a picture of Izuku with a dab of whipped cream on his cheek. It was one of dozens of pictures of the students at Yuuei in a folder on his phone labeled ‘September’. “Touch the screen of your tablet.” And finally, he said, “Moshi moshi.”

“The code is set. A new code can be set for each session, although certain elements may become unchangeable. Now, we can return to some of our unanswered intake questions. Firstly, why do you not want your name attached to your file, limited though the information in it will undoubtedly be?”

“Straight to it then,” Yagi said with a decisive nod. He puffed up into his muscle form. “Because there is a villain who would use any connection I have, no matter how small, to try and take me down. Associating with me in any way is inherently dangerous.”

Dr. Irfan stared at the hero for several moments in silence. Before they managed to fully collect themself, Yagi coughed violently and shrank back down. “That is… something.”

Yagi nodded while he dabbed up the blood leaking out of the corners of his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Do not apologize for your medical condition, Mr. Yagi,” they said firmly. “It may take some time to fully process the implications of your identity, but I do see the need for utmost discretion.”

Yagi nodded. “So, to fill you in on some of the more important details. Five years ago, I was in a fight with this villain. He ripped me apart. I lost half my repertoire system and my whole stomach; the surgeries wore me out. I thought I had killed him, but somehow we both survived, and he’s coming after me again. Though it’s through proxies now. I can barely even maintain that form. It can’t be helped, but I’m retiring at the next Hero Billboard Charts in Japan. And about six months after that, I’ll be killed in a villain attack.”

They looked at him in shock. “How…”

“My former sidekick’s quirk lets him see the future.”

“Ah. How accurate is it?”

“I don’t know that he’s ever been outright wrong, but the events can be delayed.”

“This would go a long way in explaining your increased anger. Terminal patients frequently become angry at their situation.”

“Good to know I’m not special,” he said wryly.

“Apologies.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I wasn’t angry until more recently, I knew about my impending doom right after the fight. There are two more very important things. My happiest childhood memory: I was fourteen when I met Nana Shimura. Before that, I was bounced around the foster system, so not a lot of good, let alone happy memories to choose from. Ah, I think I’m doing things out of order.”

“Take your time, I have no other appointments after yours.”

“This is going to be hard to believe.”

“I have a size-changing, doomed, dying, internationally renowned pro hero in my office seeking therapy to ease his way to his unavoidable demise, and it only now becomes hard to believe. This I must hear.”

“The villain is called All for One, after his quirk. He can steal quirks and use them, or give them to someone else.”

They were quiet as the weight of Yagi’s words hung in the air. “Wait. Do you mean permanently?”

“Yes.” He paused to let them collect themself again. “He had a brother whose quirk was the ability to pass the quirk to another person.”

“Just passing it along?”

He nodded. “The brother, One for All, was sickly and weak. All for One took care of him as he rose in power and influence in Japan. Then he gave One for All a strength stockpiling quirk. One for All was rescued, and he passed the two quirks on. And so on, for seven wielders. Nana Shimura gave One for All to me when I was fourteen. She gave me a home, a family, and all of the happy memories in my childhood. And the year before I graduated, All for One killed her in front of me.” A few scant tears escaped his eyes. “The second thing. The one that’s changed everything. My own successor. I was looking for and found him before I knew All for One wasn’t dead. But to be fair, I did pass One for All on after finding out. And Izuku rightfully called me out on it. So much has happened in the last two years.” He shook his head. “I should never have endangered him, brought him into this mess. But now I can’t save him from it, and I’ll be long gone before he’s ready to face that monster, to clean up my mess.”

“All for One passed his quirk along as well?”

“He has stolen several life-extending quirks over the last two and a half centuries,” Yagi corrected, “he is very much still alive.”

“Normally, I don’t encourage this kind of trauma dumping, but I will need the whole picture. Please continue, in whatever order you are most comfortable with.”

“Sure,” he agreed. Yagi began telling them about the two years he’d known Izuku Midoriya; everything from the sludge villain and the coma to finding out he was Stray and the bento he made. He laughed as the second alarm went off to remind him to eat.

 

The meager dorm room meal was simple and bland compared to what he was used to, but it was a creative use of the ingredients. The sautéed shrimp and steamed snap peas were only seasoned with black pepper. The bed of cauliflower rice was nearly unseasoned, but Izuku had insisted on throwing in a ramen flavor pack. The egg drop soup was prepackaged, but they added mushrooms to give it some substance. They tossed some lettuce and diced tomato into single-serve Doritos or Fritos bags and called it a taco salad.

None of the friends seemed to mind as they talked about their week and any projects they had. Izuku listened idly, letting the normality of the situation wash over him.

“Oh, Sun, the soup is hot,” Emma said as he went to take a sip.

At first, Izuku thought it might be a meme or reference, but Sunil replied, “Dhanavāda,” and blew on it before taking a bite.

Izuku quietly checked the man with Search and found he had CIPA, an inability to feel pain or temperature, and decreased sweating. Next to him, Melissa seemed to be waiting for him to ask about it. Slyly, he asked, “What language is that?” instead.

“Punjabi,” Sunil replied. “It means thanks.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Do you speak any other languages?”

“Unfortunately not,” he replied a bit wistfully. “Just Japanese and some English."

"Some," Sunil muttered wryly. English was the language the five of them had in common, and while the four college students were all native-level speakers, having grown up on the Island, Izuku was still fluent. 

"Oh! And JSL,” Izuku added.

“Oh?” Fisk spoke up. “How’s that going?”

“Slowly. I don’t have a lot of opportunities to practice, but it will be worth it in the long run. Oh, my friends and I made these,” he pulled out his communicator. “Basically our whole class is using them now.”

The trio looked unimpressed. “So…”

“Multi-channel, noise-cancelling, rechargeable comms,” Izuku supplied. Fisk plucked them out of his hand. “None of the tech is new, but we combined them and managed to keep them discreet; they can be added to just about any hero’s support loadout as is, and wouldn’t take that much effort to augment for a comfortable fit where necessary.”

“The versatility and mass production compatibility would make them a hard sell to most companies. They look for things heroes can’t maintain or repair on their own, let alone build.” Fisk held one up to his eye. “They’re insulated.”

“That’s why it’s important to make them,” Izuku countered, “To protect heroes. And yeah, they are; they can also tolerate up to two tons before breaking. One of my classmates has an electrical quirk, and another was electrocuted in a training incident. And the whole project started because my... childhood friend is losing his hearing due to his quirk. I don’t know much about support gear, I’ve only been learning for a single semester,” he looked up at the gathered college students, “but I make things people need.”

Emma grinned, “So, what else have you made?”

“Just assigned projects, unfortunately: a wrist-mounted capsule launcher that’s accurate to five kilometers, with a two-part expanding foam that’s as hard as steel and a classic robot that extinguishes fires.”

The quartet intoned, “A hammer and a block of dry ice is not a robot.”

Izuku grinned cheekily. “We mounted the capsule launcher on some treads and used the expanding foam, which is fire retardant for one model, and then a large, vented tank of dry ice and an internal grinding system, with a scoop to help with navigation for the second.”

“God, you are a brat,” Melissa said.

“It’s not a hammer,” he shot back.

 

Inko was having the time of her life. She and David had each gotten two drinks; one they knew they’d like and the second with the silliest name on the menu. David’s was a Three-Legged Monkey, made with a shot of whiskey, almond liqueur, and pineapple juice. Inko cheekily ordered the Bend Over Shirley, made with raspberry vodka, Sprite, and grenadine.

Now out on the dance floor, her dress flared as they twirled around. They laughed as each taught the other the few steps and moves they knew. They muddled their way through a tango, both knowing different styles. Both were vaguely familiar with the waltz, the electric slide, salsa, and samba. They could reliably do the jitterbug, a decent amount of club moves, and a shameful amount of disco moves. Inko could do some swing, vogue, and moonwalk. With a little encouragement, she admitted to learning how to twerk in college. David unironically did the Floss, Gangnam Style, the Hype, the Charleston, and the Electro Shuffle.

“Everything I can do on the dance floor I learned on a dare, or out of spite, except the ballet,” David admitted.  “I know all the ‘Fortnite’ dances, but don’t have the heart to tell Mellissa I’d barely even heard of the series until she and her friends got into it.”

 

“About the cat,” Dr. Irfan said as they typed up their safe notes. “Is it your favorite because it is affectionate, although demanding and needy, or rather, clear about its wants and boundaries, but at the same time not dependent on you? Whereas the other one is simply independent?”

Yagi was silent. When he did speak, he only said, “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“It is like your choice between the two boys. One of them needed you, the other did not.”

Yagi looked down at his hands as a fresh wave of guilt and shame hit him. “Oh, god.”

They hummed. “He knows more than he says.”

“Izuku?”

“Yes.”

“He’s very bright and analytical.”

“And he would have known about All for One before he accepted One for All.”

Yagi blinked at them. “He’s not manipulating me. I pushed him into it. He turned it down flatly. He’s given me every opportunity to change my mind and take it back, or have him transfer it to someone else.”

“I did not say he was. You’ve given the possibility some thought, though.”

“Of course I did. I’m not stupid, but… I just can’t imagine him not being a hero.”

They looked up at him. “You tend to make one person the focus of your entire world. That is a lot of pressure for a single person, let alone a teenage boy. Work on your other connections and allow yourself the space to be upset. Even at Izuku. Yes, he is a child, and ultimately a victim in all this, but he does make choices and mistakes. Your emotions are valid, just be mindful of how you express them.”

“Right.”

“Now, I have completed all my notes. Would you like to review them?”

“Yeah.” Yagi started with the written notes, which were shredded and incinerated after he’d finished, before moving on to the typed ones that would end up in his file. “Oh, yeah, a name. Toshi Hidaka.”

“Is your given name not Toshinori? Is that not too close?”

He shrugged. “The kanji is different. It means ‘year’. It’s a bit of a riff on the nicknames Izuku uses for the League. Short and starting with the same syllable as their name, but they also tell something about the person. Izuku’s means ‘be skillful,’ while Tomura’s is ‘human and hope’.”

“Hidaka? What is its meaning?”

“The first kanji is ‘sun or day, and the second ‘tall or high’.” 

“Ah.” They nodded.

Yagi turned back to the brief notes and read them. “Looks safe enough.”

 “Good. Then, if it is agreeable, we shall schedule another session for next week. Four to nine on Thursday. I would love to squeeze in another in-person session, just to settle the vault more, but it is as it is.”

“If you’re available some time on Sunday, I think I could. Izuku spends Sundays with Inko, so I should have a few free hours, at least.”

“Yes, that would be excellent. From three to five? I have dinner plans. It will likely not be a productive session from your standpoint.”

“But it will help make the ‘vault’ thing more secure?”

“Stable. In addition, it will give you a chance to further alter your code, should you wish to do so. I now believe that the boy’s picture is too personal and constitutes a security risk. You will need to select something else for the lock.”

Yagi nodded. "Okay. Five 'inputs?"

"Four, as the first, will always be your image on the tablet screen."

"Right. Ahlan, touch the screen, look at your Barış Manço poster, hmm... Oh!" he quickly did a search on his phone. He showed Irfan a stock photo of a dolphin leaping out of blue-green water with a mostly clear sky in the background. "I hope it's not too obvious a reference."

"Jones? I believe it is obscure enough. And specific enough if you show it to me each time. But I recommend that you print it out, rather than showing me your phone in the future." At Yagi's nod, Irfan said, "This concludes our session, Mr. Yagi. I hope to see you again.” Their eyes glowed violet again, with a spill of green at the corners, just for a moment. “Ahlan, Mr. Yagi.” They reached out and shook his hand. “I hope I have not kept you…” Dr. Irfan blinked. They looked around their office for a moment. “The session has concluded, hasn’t it?”

“Er, yes.”

“I see." They touched their temple, then looked at their schedule. "Ah, good. Two appointments? It must have been a great deal of information. I have not lost time like this since my days in the military. Apologies.”

“Not necessary,” he assured them. “But, uh, do you know somewhere nearby to eat?”

They nodded. “I could use a bite myself, considering the time.”

 

Dessert was fantastic. The pair took the frozen yogurt to go and watched the sunset from a nearby rooftop garden. It was such a sweet and romantic moment that Inko lost herself in it and rested her head on David’s shoulder. They walked slowly around the long curving walkway until they came to the stairs closest to the hotel.

 

After the dishes were cleared away and washed in the shared bathroom at the end of the hall, Izuku and Melissa sat down with the other three again. Emma had her boots off and was fiddling with her prosthetic foot. The toes wiggled as she made adjustments with a small screwdriver. Again, instead of asking about the disability directly, he asked, “Does that interfere with your quirk?”

“Yeah, I can’t make duplicate limbs on this leg because the ball joint was removed.” She shrugged. “I mostly just make arms, though, so it wasn’t that big of a loss.”

“Ah.”

“So, what’s your damage?” Fisk asked.

“Rude,” Sunil said.

“It’s okay,” Izuku replied. “Mostly mental. I was diagnosed as quirkless when I was five, but I have both acute and general anxiety and crippling self-worth issues.”

“I’m guessing the diagnosis is related.”

“To the general anxiety and self-worth issues, yeah. The acute anxiety is from falling off a six-story building and into a coma. But, hey, I got a quirk out of it.”

“Damn.”

Izuku laughed. “Yeah. It’s… I’m coping. Speaking of, one of my coping mechanisms is solving other people’s problems, but as previously discussed, I’m rather lacking in support gear training…”

“That’s a heck of a segue,” Fisk said.

“… Any of you interested in making artificial organs?”

“Pacemakers are a dime a dozen.”

“What about stomachs and lungs?” Izuku asked.

Emma nodded. “That’s an interesting one, but I wouldn’t want to patch a hero up just to send them back into the meat grinder.”

“He’s retiring to teach,” Izuku said.

“It’s Uncle Might,” Melissa added.

“Oh. Oh, Melissa,” Emma said, leaning over to hug her friend. “Of course we’ll help.”

“Thank you.”

“Even if it doesn’t help him, he’d appreciate it being out there, you know,” Izuku told them.

 

David walked Inko to the hotel room door. They were both smiling and laughing softly. “I haven’t had this much fun in years.” 

As Inko turned to him to agree, he leaned down and kissed her. He pulled back quickly and covered his mouth with his hand. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean - I know you’re married. I’m not - I wasn’t -”

Blushing, Inko cut him off, “No, I understand. You got caught up in the moment. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I mean, you are attractive, but you’re married.” 

“Yes,” she agreed. “How about a hug, and not making a big deal about it?”

“Yeah.” He held his arms apart and waited.

Inko stepped in and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’d like to keep in contact with you, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, actually Toshi asked me to, uh, step in as a mentor if, when his condition catches up to him. If we get along, that’ll make that easier.”

“Oh.” Inko stepped back. “It’s…”

“A lot?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean to imply that I’d only be friends with you to fulfill Toshi’s request. I like you and Izuku. You’re both wonderful people. And we have a lot in common.”

“It’s good to be open about this kind of thing,” she said with a nod. “And… I still want to be friends. So, I’ll need your phone number and your DSR friend code if you have one. Izuku bought some when he was here, and they have just been great. It’s the first time he was comfortable not keeping everyone in his life separate.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he agreed. “I’m glad we’re not going to make a big deal about my slip-up.”

“We can be adults about it,” she said. “It’s not a big deal. We had a nice night, and you’re not the only one who got caught up in the date-like atmosphere.”

“Thank you for being so understanding.”

“It’s not a problem, really. Oh, gosh. I think Izuku may have picked that up from me,” she said, a little aghast. 

“Well, it’s not an entirely bad habit. A calm and level head can be a good thing, as long as you still enforce your boundaries.”

Inko nodded. “I agree. Anyway, tonight was wonderful. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes. Good night, Inko.”

“So,” Izuku said as soon as the door shut, “was he a perfect gentleman?”

“Yes,” Inko replied. “I had a lot of fun. It might be nice to bring your father next year.”

 “Yeah? You think he could get the time off?”

 “I think he’s due some,” she replied. “Speaking of things with vague due dates, how is your essay coming?”

Izuku scrunched in on himself and grinned guiltily at her.

“You haven’t even thought about it, have you?”

He shook his head.

She sighed. “I won’t make a big deal about it while we’re here, but I do want you to work on it; something, anything, notes, an outline, vague scribbling. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Have you showered?”

“No, but I can do that later. The soap here smells funny.”

Inko cocked her head at him. “It smells like lavender and honey.”

He shrugged. “I don’t like the way I smell after using it.”

She frowned. “Maybe when Yagi-san gets back, we should all watch a movie together? I think that might help.”

Izuku nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

Chapter 100: A Less Lazy Sunday

After his mother and Yagi went to bed, Izuku sat down to work on his punishment essay. He sighed, tapped the keys on his tablet, and erased it. What I did wrong: Lied to my mom about where I was at night. Why it was wrong: I could have been hurt or something, and Mom wouldn’t have known where I was. What I will do differently in the future: Let mom know where I will be each night. Except that was a lie.

He would continue to lie to her because he was also lying about who he was with. And what they were doing. His quirk. The coma. His feelings. His lovers. His friends. His loyalties. Who he even was. He was lying about more than he was even telling her about.

Izuku began typing. He started with the abuse at school, even before Aldera, with Bakugo’s quirk and his father’s abandonment. Tears dripped down his face as he wrote about his middle school experiences, but it reminded him of Tomura’s birthday gift. He rambled on about that until he felt better, then moved the text to another document and returned to his timeline. He put down everything he could remember: the teacher’s neglect and verbal abuse, his assaults by his classmates, and Bakugo’s suicide baiting.

He started a separate section for the sludge villain, meeting All Might and falling off the roof. And another for the hospital. The lies piled up, and the document grew. He detailed his training with the League and the blossoming friendship with Tomura. How the asocial, amoral delinquent had grown into a capable leader worthy of loyalty. 

As the sun came up, he jotted down notes to expand on both Sensei and Stain. Izuku felt emotionally drained, but ultimately satisfied with the endeavor. Then he buried the document in a partition so deep it would survive a complete and comprehensive hard drive wipe. 

He spent the next twenty minutes staring at a blank document, trying to build up the will to lie to his mother. Again. 

Eventually, he sent a message to ‘Kuu’ asking for help with the essay. It’s not that I don’t understand what I did wrong, I just…

Don’t know how to say it?

I guess.

Try looking up some examples.

Sure. If nothing else, it’ll give me a better framework. Thanks.

Izuku was surprised at how short all of the samples were; maybe two paragraphs, six or so sentences, around a hundred words. It made the task seem so much less daunting. He could do this; he could bang out a meaningless apology and move on.

I apologize for betraying your trust. 

I should never have lied to you about where I was going and what I was doing. It was reckless and irresponsible of me, and caused you a great deal of stress and worry.

In the future, I will be more mindful of your feelings and perfectly reasonable safety concerns.

It was a bit short, but at least he had something to show his mother. He wondered if it would feel as empty to her as it did to him.

He was pulled from his musings by stirring from the bedrooms. They didn’t have any concrete plans for the day, so he hoped they could do some sightseeing.

 

Yagi looked blurrily at the digital clock beside his futon. The incessant beeping of his alarm had pulled him from a deep and restful slumber. He wondered what misfortune this morning would bring as he reached out to silence the dread device.

His arm stretched out, scrabbling for the edge of the futon and not finding it. For a moment, Yagi panicked. He gripped the soft, yielding form of a large pillow. Slowly, he sat up and took in his surroundings. He was in a western-style bed, in a luxury hotel, on I-island.

His phone was ringing. 

“Hey, Toshi,” David said when he answered, “can you swing by the lab before lunch? Something just came in that I want you to look at.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he replied groggily. He stretched and padded to the bathroom. 

 

“Hello, Mom,” Fuyumi greeted as the three entered the hospital room.

“Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shoto! I’m so glad to see you,” Rei replied.

“I brought you some light clothes,” Fuyumi said, setting a bag on the table.

“Thank you, as always.”

“It’s going to be hot next week.”

“That’s disappointing, but it is August.”

“We’re all pretty susceptible to the heat,” Natsuo said.

“You seem well, Natsuo,” Rei commented.

“Ever since he started college, he’s never home,” Fuyumi complained.

“Come on,” Natsuo replied, “I’m always in touch with you guys. So, what’s the problem?”

“You look like you’re doing pretty well, yourself, Mom,” Fuyumi said, having mercy on her brother.

“It’s her complexion. It’s looking great,” Natsuo piped up.

Shoto was content to stay silent and observe how his siblings interacted with their mother.

Rei was not content to ignore him, however. “Shoto? Are you doing well?”

“Yeah.”

Rei’s slight smile faltered at the one-word response. She looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry –”

“Stop saying that,” Shoto snapped. It made him nauseous after weeks of hearing it. “You can be as sorry as you want, it doesn’t change anything! Hell, it might even make it worse. You know you were wrong. What you did was wrong. How you felt was wrong. But you did nothing about it!”

“I –” Rei stopped, clearly about to repeat herself. She sat silently with her head still down.

“You poured a kettle of boiling water on my face. You chose to hurt me instead of protecting me, or running away.”

Rei curled in on herself. She said nothing.

“Say something!”

“You don’t want to hear it.”

“Do you even care what you did? How it affected me? Natsuo? Fuyumi?”

His siblings flinched when their names were mentioned. “Shoto, please, calm down.”

“She’s been in here for ten years and can’t even face what she did to me.” He stood up. “I’m not going to come back until she can accept responsibility for her actions.”

“Shoto,” Fuyumi chided.

“No. She boiled my face! Have you ever emptied a full kettle, Fuyumi? You should try it sometime. It’s enlightening. Then do it again, holding a screaming, struggling child.” He walked out, already dialing Hound Dog.

 

Melissa met Yagi outside the hotel, and the pair walked three blocks to her favorite breakfast place. Sunbeam offered a wide selection of international breakfast options. Yagi was pleased to find a wealth of savory options, from omelets to cheese-stuffed potato Latkes. He ended up ordering the petite fry-up: a potato pancake, a strip of bacon, a sausage link, an egg, a grilled tomato slice, and toast. Melissa ordered the hazelnut French toast and a two-egg spinach and mushroom omelet.

“Oh, let’s split a side of fruit, too.”

“I’m already pushing it with the fry-up. I’ll save the toast and bacon for later. Oh, and you can have the tomato slice. I can’t eat seeds.”

“Dude,” the server said, “the small fry-up isn’t that much, a big guy like you can afford the calories. I can sub turkey bacon and chicken sausage if you’re worried about fat.”

Yagi touched his side reflexively. “Oh, um…”

“Shit, sorry. I’m not supposed to say that shit. You don’t have to explain. My quirk lets me know the dimensions and mass of an object. You’re underweight for your height.” He smiled sheepishly at Yagi. 

“No, it’s…” Yagi sighed. “I forgot that you do American-style customizations here. In Japan, what’s on the menu is what you get.”

The server nodded. “What’ll it be?”

“Can I substitute the tomato for mushrooms, the toast for avocado slices, and upgrade the scrambled eggs with smoked salmon?”

“Absolutely!” He jotted the order down. “We’ll get that right out to you.”

“Thank you,” Yagi replied.

“You can’t eat seeds?” Melissa asked as the server walked away.

Yagi shook his head. “Nope. I have to watch my sugars and fats too. It upsets my… Well, not stomach, but too much of either will make me nauseous or cause cramping.”

“Gees, that’s awful,” Melissa said, making a face.

“It’s not that bad,” he assured her. “I mostly avoid eating at restaurants, so I’ve finally learned to cook for myself. It does mean that I usually eat the same thing all day, but,” he shrugged, “I can change it up when I reheat it. Add different spices and things. I’m used to it.” He chuckled awkwardly.

Frowning, she asked, “How long does a ‘meal’ usually last you?”

“Well, most recipes are meant for at least two people, so usually all day. But, uh, Aizawa-kun has taught me a few tricks for making smaller amounts, so I’m getting more variety lately.” Yagi smiled softly and fiddled with his napkin.

“That’s good,” she said with a nod. Leaning towards him, she asked, “So, does Aizawa work at Yuuei? How did you meet?”

He blinked at her. “Uh, yes, he’s Izuku’s homeroom teacher. He works in the heroics department. We didn’t get along at first, but things are better now.”

“Oh, why didn’t you like him?” She leaned back in her seat.

“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “While he’s a little on the serious side, I liked him just fine. I mean, he’s a little hard on the students, but it comes from a place of concern.”

“How could he not like you?” Melissa put on an exaggerated pout.

“I’m not perfect, Melissa.” He scratched his cheek with one finger. “First, my public persona rubbed him the wrong way. Secondly, we had several misunderstandings. We worked things out like adults, though.”

“What kind of misunderstandings?” she pressed.

“He didn’t know things about me, my condition. I didn’t know him at all.” Yagi paused as the server returned with their food. He took the opportunity to change the subject: “So, how’s school going?”

“Fantastic! The project for this semester is a communications device,” she gushed. Melissa began talking animatedly about her project and then segued into her friends’ projects.

 

The sky was a brilliant sapphire blue. Sparse clouds rolled lazily toward the horizon. Seagulls cawed and swooped overhead. The air was cool and salty.

Izuku sniffed and huffed. There wasn’t a single spot where he was more than a hundred feet from a sizable water feature; unfortunately, they were all contaminated with sea salt. Without the scent of rust and rot, it only reminded him of his trauma; it wasn’t making him nauseous.

“Okay, we can take a stroll around the business district, see a few viewpoints, and visit the Art Experience. They have a digital gallery, and the morning display is Van Gogh,” Inko said. 

“Sounds cool.”

Inko nodded. “After that, there’s a restaurant I want to try near the airport. What do you want to do in the afternoon? And you can pick where we get dinner.”

“There’s an artificial reef where we can go snorkeling, I want to stop by this electronics store to pick up a few things, and I am craving a burger from Snack O’clock.”

“Sounds good. At nine, there’s a play at the theater across the street from the hotel if it isn’t too much.”

“I can pay for my ticket or both; it’s no big deal.”

Inko laughed. “I meant if it wasn’t too many activities. You save your money. College fund, or something fun.”

“Oh,” Izuku said. "Spending time with you is fun. So I can pay for the show.”

“Nope. It’s my job as a parent, besides, I picked it, and this way you have plenty of money for souvenirs.”

“Fine, I guess. But I’m getting you something nice.”

  

Yagi was just finishing his eleven o’clock meal when David strode into the room. “Sorry about the wait. Hey, Melissa. Could you take this to Filing for me? Toshi and I should only be like twenty, thirty minutes tops.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” she replied. While she did wonder when he was getting a new assistant, she knew it was too soon to ask about it.

David waited for a few heartbeats after the door closed behind her before digging out the DNA results and handing them to Yagi. “These results are wild. The only thing I know for sure is that this sample is biologically related to you.”

“So, that’s Izuku’s DNA. The match must be One for All.”

“I mean, that makes sense, but that’s the only thing about it that does. His Q1 and AF1R are blank; they should be missing. His Q2 has the expected markers for his coloring. Q3 has triple the information it should, and information for Alpha Factor production. And Q4 has a genetic tag, but it’s like a punt tag, ‘look elsewhere for quirk’. That sends us to the extra Quirk genes, we’re calling Q5 and Q6. Which I’m assuming are One for All. They're so full of Quirk information. It’s got duplicates of everything in his Q3, and we've got some weird partial matches to old pro heroes. As well as two current pro heroes. You, of course, but also a mid-tier rescue hero called Ragdoll.”

Yagi sighed. “We suspected as much,” he murmured to himself, “but to have it confirmed… Damn it.”

“I have no idea where the other two come from.”

“A healing quirk, and a shadow manipulation quirk… Shouldn’t his Q2 be blank or missing, too?

“Nah, it’s super rare for people to not have any Quirk genes. Q1 is usually active stuff like emitter and transformation quirks. Q2 is mutations. Q3 and Q4 are typically repeats of Q1 and Q2. They’re sort of considered optional, and how we end up with mixed quirks, like Endeavor’s son. All of the markers can be inherited from either or both parents, the most common being Q1 and Q2 from one and Q3 and Q4 from the other.”

Yagi blinked at him.

“My genetics guy spent twenty minutes educating me on the basics of quirk heritage. Once upon a time, just having natural hair in a color other than blond, brown, black, or red was enough to indicate that you had a quirk. Heck, go back far enough, and it was considered a quirk in its own right rather than a secondary mutation.”

“Right.”

“So, about the other two samples. One of them has the same blank Q1 and AF1R, and a Q3 with AF1R information. And speaking of the Todoroki kid, I’m sure that’s where this third sample is from, but it’s just as wild as the other two. Q1: Fire quirk, right? Normal, matches to Endeavor. Q2? What would you expect to see there?”

“Secondary mutations, so… temperature resistance?”

“Right! Specifically…”

Yagi nodded. “Fire or heat.”

“That’s what I guessed as well. That’d be the logical conclusion. But, nope. It’s cold resistance. Weird, but we’re only halfway done, this could course correct. Q3 and Q4?”

Hesitantly, Yagi answered, “Ice quirk and fire resistance,” even though he knew it was going to be wrong.

“You’d think so.” David nodded. “They’re normal dupes of Q1 and Q2. What the entire fuck. Where are his ice powers coming from? Moving on, AF1R present; after that, how much Alpha Factor you produce is determined by polygenic inheritance. He’s got the lion’s share. Dobzhansky thinks his quirk is closer to temperature control, rather than producing fire and ice, because that’s the only way to explain what’s going on here. Unless Izuku discovered Endeavor’s secret lovechild.” David paused and took a steadying breath. “There is one more thing, Toshi.”

“What is it, Dave?”

“Your mentor’s name was Nana Shimura, right?”

“Yes.”

“The sample with the other blank marker is related to her, a grandson.” 

“What?” Yagi was lucky he was seated; the news might have knocked him down. With two of the three samples accounted for, Izuku and Todoroki-kun, the only logical conclusion was that the third was Tomura Shigaraki. “Nana’s grandson.”

“Yeah. So, what’s it all mean, Toshi? What’s your successor up to?”

“A lot, actually,” Yagi replied heavily. “I don’t want any more secrets between us, but it’s his secret. I don’t know.”

“He wanted you to tell me the whole truth, right?” David asked. “As long as it has to do with One for All, he genuinely believes that sharing information is for the best. He’s worried about hurting you. About these results hurting you. Why? How could knowing where your mentor’s grandson is hurt you?”

“Because that sample is from a villain. Tomura Shigaraki is Nana’s grandson.”

“How did Izuku get his DNA on a spoon?”

“Inko invited him over and they had curry.”

“Sweet little Inko? Having dinner with a villain? Talk about tea with Cthulhu.”

“Apparently, he’s a sweet boy,” Yagi said dryly. “Izuku is… working with the villains. They call him Stray.” 

David shook his head. “That kid? How?”

“I visited him in the hospital when he was in his coma. I drew All for One’s attention to him. It’s my fault.”

“You’re not responsible for that monster’s actions.”

Yagi was silent for some time. “I think he gave Izuku the healing quirk. He saved his life.”

“For a price, no doubt.” 

Yagi nodded. 

“Damn. There’s no way Inko knows.”

“Of course not!  If Inko knew how much danger her baby was in, she’d wrap him in cotton wool and never let him out of her sight.” Yagi sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to keep so much from her.”

“You could tell her about One for All, at least then she’d have some understanding of this mess with his quirk,” David suggested, gesturing at the printout.

“He would never…” Yagi shook his head. “He doesn’t see it as his quirk; he still thinks I’ll take it back. As if I would endanger him like that. It’s my fault he’s in this mess to begin with.”

“Do you want me to come with you when you tell her?”

“No, it’s okay, I think I’ll talk to her while you’re giving Izuku the results.” Yagi paused. “Oh, it’s Sunday! That will all have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Oh, do we have plans?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Izuku and Inko-san spend Sundays together. They’re very serious about it.”

“Ah, okay. Anything I should worry about with the kid?”

“He cries easily. He’s huggy. He wants to help people, so he likely thinks that he can save the League of Villains.”

David nodded. “Okay. So, I’ll just keep treating him like an overzealous hero student. Do you want me to tell him about Shimura?”

“Yes, of course. He had some reason for testing Tomura’s DNA,” Yagi said. “Oh! Of course! He said something to Tokoyami-kun and Shoji-kun to convince them to keep his secret. He must be trying to find some evidence that… Tomura was probably kidnapped. We should look into that and see what’s there.”

“Yeah, sure. And if anyone asks, I can just say this whole thing is a request from All Might.”

Yagi nodded. “It wouldn’t be a lie.”

 

Izuku took another picture with his phone. He was alternating between the sweeping landscape porn at the viewpoints and the information plaques and QR codes strewn about the path.

Inko chuckled. “You’re going to run out of space on your phone.”

“This is so cool,” Izuku said. “The virtual tour doesn’t do it justice.”

“No,” she agreed, a wistful tone in her voice, “it doesn’t.”

“Mom?” Izuku asked, cocking his head.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, a blush creeping over her.

Izuku furrowed his brow. He was tempted to check with Search, but instead, he said, “If you’re sure. You’d tell me if something was wrong. Right?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Good.” He turned back to the view. Dark green pine trees gave way to a blend of birch and ash, flanked on both sides by artificial rivers.

 

“Okay, I have to be at Irfan-sensei’s by three, so we have four hours. What do we want to do?” Yagi asked David and Melissa as they strolled down the main strip of the central shopping district.

“We could catch a movie,” David suggested.

“Uncle Toshi can’t have popcorn,” Melissa said.

“I could,” Yagi protested. “Just not very much, and I’d have to be careful of the shells. But we could, as a treat.”

“I suppose,” Melissa relented. “But something fun, not that spy movie.”

“Spy movie?” Yagi asked.

“A gender-flipped remake of James Bond.”

“Oh, that sounds interesting,” Yagi said.

“Please, no.”

The two men looked at each other and grinned. “Yes,” they said in unison.

 

Inko browsed the store while Izuku spent twenty minutes at the DSR customization kiosk. She picked out a phone case that was nigh indestructible and cost half what she’d pay in Japan. It was mint green with little white flowers on it.

Izuku agonized over the color schemes for Tokoyami, Dark Shadow, and Shoji. He considered black for Tokoyami, probably in the matte finish, and transparent for Dark Shadow, but it seemed so basic. 

He texted Tokoyami, What’s your favorite color?

He got a response a few minutes later. Are you attempting to buy me something?  I do not think it is appropriate under the circumstances. 

Izuku frowned. I’m just curious. What’s Dark Shadow’s favorite color? 

Dark Shadow often prefers red, but lately has been choosing green. Mine are red and purple. 

Cool. I like red too, but blue is my favorite.

Izuku had intended to ask Tokoyami for Shoji’s favorite as well, but he was already suspicious. He texted the question to Shoji and hoped for a quick reply. 

Purple, well, amethyst really. Like the gem, a little on the red side and a bit smoky. Why?

Just curious. 

Uh-huh. 

Izuku continued to text back and forth with them as he was selecting the colors and finishes for the three DSRs, light and casual subjects, he didn’t need to pay much attention to. He found that brilliant purple in the gloss finish was the closest to amethyst; he paired it with cobalt to make the trim and logo pop. For Dark Shadow, he went with burgundy and lime green in the matte finish, as he felt transparent would be too literal; a bit on the nose, as it were. Finally, he settled on bright red chrome and transparent jet black for Tokoyami. He decided to add one in gloss burgundy with matte finish, bright red, and give that and the blue one to Ariyama-chan and Asuka-kun.

“Okay, I just need to pay, and we can head to lunch,” Izuku announced. 

 

Yagi flopped down on the couch. He had fun hanging out with David and Melissa, but it was exhausting. On top of that, his appointment with Irfan-sensei had been useful but emotionally draining. He knew he should eat, but he just wanted a nap. He didn’t know when Inko and Izuku would get back, but he was sure Izuku would make him eat when they did.

Idly, as he lay waiting to fall asleep, he ran his hand along the back of the couch. He wondered if All for One had selected Izuku’s healing quirk intentionally. If the mutation were a separate quirk, it would explain the extra quirk marker. If it wasn't, it would explain why he settled for rapid healing instead of giving Izuku regeneration.

While his mind wanted to spin, his body was exhausted. Yagi fell asleep worrying about Izuku and how each new quirk seemed designed to pull him farther from the light.

 

Inko was amazed at the boundless energy her son had. While she was barely able to drag herself back to the hotel after their late dinner, he had offered to carry her. She flatly refused, even though it was tempting. She slipped her shoes off immediately and went into the kitchen area to put away their leftovers.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Izuku gently woke Yagi. The man seemed groggy and confused for a second. Then he wrapped his arms around Izuku and hauled him onto his chest. He tucked Izuku’s head under his chin and just held him. Izuku made a startled noise at the sudden grab, but didn’t protest or struggle. He settled quickly, and as he lay curled up on Yagi’s chest, she could imagine him purring contentedly.

She dawdled in her preparations for bed. Izuku had been right, Yagi hadn’t stuck to his schedule. He ate a full quarter of the burger under Izuku’s watchful eye, and then excused himself to go to bed.

 

Izuku sighed once Yagi and his mother had gone to bed. He sat down to work on his punishment essay, or rather to continue his long confession. He started by expanding on his interactions with Sensei and Stain. He wrote about seeing the League during his internship and the training camp. Which led to him detailing his relationship with Kurogiri. While it pained him to do so, he recorded every romantic and sexual act he could remember. Worse was confessing what they had done to Aizawa.

When he was finally caught up with current events, Izuku lay down and tried to get some sleep. It was fitful and he dreamed of the tower (but Sensei replaced the red-haired villain), of All Might falling (but it was Yagi and his injury was fresh), of leaping after him (but he was Stray and his shadow wrapped around him tightly).  He woke with a start, his heart pounding, his shadow squeezing him. He slowly loosened his grip and brought his breathing under control.

He flipped through his list on Search. Mom, Tomura, Yagi, Kurogiri, Aizawa, Yamada, Toga, Shoto, Shinso, Mei, Magne, Compress, Twice, Spinner, Mustard, Dabi, Yaoyorozu, Kaminari, Tokoyami, Shoji, … he furrowed his brow. That was not the order he had put them in. He moved Yagi and his teachers down below the League and reorganized his classmates by their seating chart. He left the Pussycats where they had migrated to, above Sensei and the Doc.

“Ragdoll?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Can you adjust the list?”

“No.”

“I think,” the steel-eyed woman said, “you did it subconsciously. You’ve been worrying about them a lot.”

Izuku nodded. “Hey, um, what’s your name?”

“Oh. You can just call me Shadow Bind. I am the quirk after all.”

He shook his head. “I want to know more about you, and you have a whole personality, feelings, wants, and desires. You’re a person.”

“Mikage,” she replied.

The cat looked at her with raised eyebrows, but didn’t comment. Grinning, he signed, “I’m Naynji.”

Izuku smiled softly. “Pleased to meet you both.”

Notes:

I will not be posting for two weeks (should post again around 7/23 or 7/24). I post on my days off, and won’t be having those at this time. There are three of us on Graveyard, and one is going on a two-week vacation. My Good Wonderful Boss will try to get some coverage for us, but I can’t make any promises. I reread and edit before I post, and I won't have the brain space for that. Sorry, and thank you for your patience.

Chapter 101: Truth and Good Byes

Izuku spent the rest of the night pacing, still unwilling or unable to go out on the balcony to use the current pool. At some point, he found himself in the bathroom. The wall behind the large, gold-framed art nouveau mirror was tiled with pebbles. The wall sconces flanking the vanity emitted a soft, yellow light. The whole room had a comforting, earthy feel.

It set Izuku’s teeth on edge. At his mom’s, the bathroom was small and practical without any frills. Tomura’s was luxurious yet simple; its features prioritized functionality over a display of wealth. This bathroom confused price with quality.

He was equally displeased with the person reflected in the mirror at him: a stranger with green hair, green eyes, and freckles. Izuku didn’t know how long he stared into the mirror before he was hit by a sudden wave of nausea and threw up in the sink. He rinsed his mouth out and washed his face.

His heart was pounding, and the room was spinning, slowly, but that was arguably worse. His hands were shaking, and his mouth was dry. He realized it was a panic attack, and not food poisoning or an illness, because his chest felt like it was being squeezed. He leaned heavily against the vanity, trying and failing to control his breathing. He clamped his mouth shut to force himself to breathe through his nose. He couldn’t focus enough to list things he could see; his vision was swimming anyway.

He knew he’d lost track of time when a noise drew his attention. Yagi was standing in the doorway with a concerned expression. The sink and hand towel were both dry, but a faint acidic tang hung in the air.

“Oh, do you need in here?” he tried to say, but nothing came out.

               

It was the simplest thing he did to keep track of humans and their goings-on. Nezu had never thought it would bear much fruit, but he was thorough and had set it up anyway. Twice a week, he received a series of emails linking him to relevant social media posts, mostly about the school. He had added the hashtag League of Villains mainly to keep track of what his students were posting about them, and even then, he only received weekly updates.

The TikTok account was freshly created, but there were seventeen videos on it. Two each day, posted eight to twelve hours apart. The various search tags were interesting. Many of them were there to protect the account from deletion, such as the cosplay and villain aesthetic tags, but there was a series that was clearly meant to be used to find the videos if the account was shut down: #LeagueofVillains,  #LoV, #VillainLeague, #BadGuyBaseball, #VillainBowlingNight, #Crimebrulee, #BigSis, #Mr.Magician, #DoubletheFun, #YellowKetchup, #ManicPixieNightmare, #FidgetWidget, #Facepalm-kun, #FunwithPortals, and #Bakaneko.

Nezu updated the email alert frequency to daily and added the League-specific tags to it before watching the videos. 

The League was all wearing the same roughly sewn black, tactical, ripstop cargo pants. Their tops were all black or red with brass, bronze, or gold accents; Nezu presumed that they were trying for brass, as that matched Shigaraki’s costume. Shigaraki, Stray, Twice, Mr. Compress, and Mustard wore elements of their costumes. Nezu jotted this down, as it seemed related to the fact that all of them covered their faces.

The backdrop was a plain, if dingy, brick wall, and a four-foot-tall crate was used for seating. The lighting for the introductions was simple but professional-looking, likely a ring light and one or two other basic lights. The other videos seemed to be made with just a ring light.

Nezu allowed each video to play through several times before he started analyzing it. He paused after every sentence to mull over what was being said and what wasn’t. Many of them quoted All Might, either subtly or backhandedly. He cataloged every unconscious gesture, from Koi no Yokan brushing her hair behind her ear to Shigaraki fiddling with his necklace.

If he didn’t know any better, Nezu would have thought the League of Villains had spent months, if not years, training and working together. Everything about them told the story of a cohesive group with a long history together, from the uniform outfits to the shared references. At most, though, they had been recruited just after the USJ Incident. Midoriya had been with them for almost a year and a half, and Koi for about half of that.

Many of them were declaring war on hero society, the rest were relating their tragic back-stories. The second video of each day was either a humorous trending TikTok sound or words of affirmation. The interesting thing was that they used their own voices. Was this Midoriya sabotaging them? Or was it a move to take advantage of potential parasocial relationships?

He hummed thoughtfully as he watched Midoriya’s videos again. Of all the people not to quote All Might, it was odd for him to be one. It was natural, however, that he didn’t share any of his trauma with the anonymous masses.

Wait. ‘Nothing is nobler than self-sacrifice’. He was quoting All Might, or rather Yagi. Paired with the inclusion of Koi no Yokan, a member not publicly known about, this was definitely sabotage. Izuku Midoriya was reaching out for help in the only way he could. Nezu hoped his analytical skills could do the boy justice as he poured over the few short videos again to see if he could extract any more data.

 

The soft golden light of the rising sun filtered in through the glass wall and the wrap-around balcony beyond. The shifting light eased Yagi from a deep sleep to a lighter one. With a soft moan, almost a mewl, his eyes fluttered open. He stretched languidly on the massive bed. He lazed there for five or ten minutes, with eyes half-lidded, before stretching again and rolling out of bed. He padded to the bathroom clad in only boxers and a tank top.

In a startlingly familiar scene, Izuku was standing in front of the sink, pale and trembling. He must have made some noise because Izuku slowly turned his head to look at him. Yagi smiled awkwardly. “Hey, you okay?”

Izuku tried to say something, but no sound came out.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured as he stepped over to him. Yagi checked him over for injury, poking and prodding him to rule out internal bleeding, asking him if this or that hurt, to no response. Once he was sure Izuku was unharmed, he hugged him tightly. “You’re safe. I’m right here. I’m right here. We’ll get through this together.”

Izuku returned the hug. Yagi flinched as Izuku’s shadow wrapped around him as well, and he rubbed his face against Yagi’s scar. Rather than try to redirect him, Yagi stroked Izuku’s cheek.

“Easy, Izuku. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured before lifting him into his arms. “We’re safe. You’re safe, Izuku.”

Izuku was cooperative and adjusted to wrap his arms around Yagi’s neck. On his way to the couch, he paused to use the wall pad to dim the lights and set the glass wall to opaque. Yagi continued to murmur soothingly as he made his way to the couch. He settled in with the boy tucked under his chin.

Izuku was only trembling now, and the dim lighting obfuscated how pale he was, but when Inko came out, she zeroed in on her baby being in distress.  “What happened?”

“I think it’s just a panic attack,” Yagi replied, still petting Izuku’s cheeks and hair.

“Just?” she asked incredulously as she joined them on the couch and inspected Izuku more closely. “This seems pretty bad. He’s pale and shaking. Are you sure he’s not in shock?”

“I’m sure, but either way, as he’s not injured, the treatment is the same.” He tightened his hold briefly, then shifted their position to allow Inko better access.

“Right.” She started petting Izuku as well. “Sweetie? Can you talk?”

He shook his head, which was more response than Yagi had been getting.

“Okay,” she said softly. “It’s okay. Yagi and I will be right here. We’re not going anywhere. You’re safe.”

Yagi felt Izuku stiffen in his arms at the same time the shadow began to uncoil from him. He tried not to react to either. Instead, he buried his face in Izuku’s fluffy hair. “We understand what you’re going through, and we will be here to help you, no matter what. You don’t have to bottle things up or do this alone, Izuku. A shared burden is much easier to carry.”

Izuku snorted, almost derisively, but it quickly turned into an actual laugh. While it was concerning, at least the panic attack seemed to be over. “Sorry. I don’t mean to worry you guys.”

“Worry us,” Inko insisted. 

Izuku gave his mother a concerned look for a moment, then relaxed into a half smile.

“I’m more worried when you don’t tell us things,” Yagi said into his hair.

“I think being here and not having the comforting colony smell at the same time just got to me. I was lonely last night, but I… I didn’t want to wake either of you, and my friends were all either sleeping or busy.”

“Izuku, sweetie, I know this will be hard to remember in the moment, but you can always come to me when you need me. No matter what,” Inko said, pressing her forehead to his.

 

Later, they met David and Melissa at the nearby café they frequent. They quickly sat down, and the server brought them menus. “Hey, Professor, Melissa. The usual?”

“Yeah,” David replied.

“Please,” Melissa said.

Yagi ordered the veggie omelet and a small black coffee again.

“I don’t want to hold everyone up, so I guess the omelet as well,” Inko said.

“Do you trust me to order for you?” David asked.

After a moment of consideration, she nodded.

“She’ll have the same as me.”

Izuku scanned the menu quickly. It was typical café fare; a bit French but nothing complicated, a nod at Italian pastries, but mostly American kept light. He went with the chipotle breakfast burrito, with scrambled egg, halved cherry tomatoes, sliced avocado, black beans, and spinach. “And a crème con panna.”

 Melissa’s usual was an egg and sausage muffin and crepes with a trio of sweet toppings she could add herself: chocolate spread, caramelized peaches, and mixed-berry compote. David’s turned out to be two eggs baked in avocado halves, fruit salad in cottage cheese, and whole-wheat toast with almond butter and banana slices.

“Today’s fruit salad is cucumber, mint, peaches, and blueberries lightly dressed with lime juice and agave nectar. The lady has a more traditional mixed berry with kiwi slices and mandarin wedges. Because the Professor is weird, and we love him, but other people should not be subjected to that without proper warning, at least according to Maurice.”

“It’s not weird,” David protested. “I like a little variety.”

“Can I try a bite, to see if I like it?” Inko asked.

“Absolutely,” David replied, pushing the small bowl towards her.

Inko scooped up a spoonful, making sure to get a piece of cucumber and some mint. “Oh, that’s interesting. It reminds me of my mother-in-law’s moonglow salad.” 

“Moonglow?” David repeated, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“Yeah, it’s lemon and lime Jello, cottage cheese, pineapple, walnuts or pecans, no mayonnaise or condensed milk, and a tablespoon of horseradish.”

“That sounds awful,” the server said.

“Lime Jello Salad is a classic American dish,” David defended. 

“Why would you specify no mayonnaise?” Melissa asked, slightly appalled. 

“I looked it up when she passed away, and apparently that’s how it’s typically made.” Inko shrugged. “Thankfully, someone modified the traditional recipe.”

The server shook his head. “American food is weird.”

 

After breakfast, they spent most of the morning sightseeing. Melissa took them to an indoor amusement park. Izuku did both the ropes course and climbing wall twice, once by himself and the second time guiding his mother through. Everyone enjoyed mini-golf, go-karts, and especially laser tag. 

For the first round, Izuku was on the same team as his mother, against David and Melissa. While he spent most of his time blocking for her, Inko was a crack shot even in the darkened and foggy environment. In the second round they played, he and Melissa faced off against David and Yagi. Izuku was far more aggressive in this round, as Melissa seemed to refuse to target Yagi. It played out less as two teams facing off and more like two one-on-one battles on the same field.

Yagi was laughing and smiling as they left the arena. “We should do that more often. I might even suggest it to Aizawa-kun.”

“Yeah?” Izuku asked. “I suppose it would help with aim and relieving stress.”

“Exactly!” he agreed.

“That was a lot of fun,” David piped up, “but I need a break.”

“It is lunchtime,” Izuku said. “We could head to the food court. They have Gyros.”

“That sounds good,” Inko said. 

Every stall in the food court was a satellite location for a restaurant elsewhere on the island. The area smelled like wood smoke, grilled meats, and fried dough. It was quieter than the rest of the park; the noise level was a dull roar. It was a feast for the eyes, with the different stalls done in brilliant colors and a vast array of designs. 

It was a common practice to order mains, sides, and drinks at separate places. Yagi ordered a pulled pork burger and a small water bottle from Black Iron Smokers, happy that there was no need or pressure to order more than he could eat. Melissa got a lobster roll from Coastal Cravings, a salad with toasted pecans and pomegranate seeds from Green Grill, and a Thai iced tea from Banana Tree. Inko joined Melissa in getting tea, although she ordered hers with coconut milk. Izuku was tempted by the tea, as it was made with half-and-half, but he found a stall making Italian sodas with heavy cream. He and his mother got Gyros from Odyssey, and vegetable tempura or twigim from Southern-Fried Korea. David ordered pho sans noodles from Pho-nomenal, lightly dressed coleslaw, and Philly cheesesteak loaded with grilled onions and peppers from Knuckles, and a soda from Joe’s because they had his favorite in sugar-free.

After lunch, they headed to the shopping district to pick up some souvenirs for the Bakugos and some mugs that had pictures of the island on them. Izuku bought a map of the island for his wall and a collection of statuettes, fridge magnets, and phone charms to give to classmates, both former and current. Inko got an I-island Christmas ornament set, telling Izuku that it didn’t count towards their traditional purchase.

David was having trouble thinking of a way to get Izuku alone to give him the DNA results, but he was saved the effort when Melissa suggested, “What about Vue du Ciel for dinner? I know it’s a bit fancy, but how often do we get to see Uncle Toshi?”

“I’d hate to deprive you of the experience, sweetheart, but I don’t think Izuku would like it,” David replied.

She turned to Izuku, “You don’t like French food?”

“Heights,” David corrected. “But you, Toshi, and Inko should go. Izuku and I can find something at ground level.”

Izuku nodded.

“He handled everything at the park just fine,” she protested.

“That’s because I only went on rides that were four stories or less. So, no slide, no Ferris wheel, no rollercoaster, no elevator drop, no Skyjump - ten stories? No, thank you. - and absolutely no Zero-G Flyer.”

“It’s not even as tall as the slide,” Melissa said, confused, “never mind the Skyjump.”

“The Jump lasts for about three seconds. The Flyer is a minute and a half. A ninety seconds of repeated falling.” Izuku’s laugh was hollow and haunted. “I might have another panic attack just thinking about it. Nah, you three can go without me.”

“Izuku, I’m not going to leave you out. We can eat somewhere else,” Inko said, gently.

“I don’t want to be the reason you miss out,” Izuku said softly.

“You’re not. I’m making a choice.”

“Yeah,” Izuku replied, “choosing me over a rare experience because I had a panic attack this morning. I want to appreciate the gesture, but I keep thinking that you’ll end up resenting me. You wanted to go to the Tokyo Sky Egg, but I couldn’t handle that either.”

“Baby, I can see the Sky Egg any time.”

“But you might not get this chance again,” he pointed out.

“Izuku, I’m your mother. I will always pick you. You are the most important thing in the world to me.”

“I know that,” he tapped his chest, then moved his hand to his temple, “but I can’t help worrying. Inui-sensei told me: I need to voice these concerns even if I know I’m worrying over nothing, so we can deal with it together. I think I’d feel better if you went. I need to know that your life isn’t being put on hold for me. And it’s not like I’d be unsupervised.” He gestured at David.

Inko looked at David, and he smiled reassuringly. With a sigh, she said, “Okay. I don’t want you getting a complex.”

“Thanks.” He hugged her. “I know this is difficult. But thank you so much for putting up with me, Mom.”

“Baby, I don’t put up with you. I love you,” she chided.

“Love you, too.” Izuku smiled at her.

Inko, Yagi, and Melissa crossed the street a little reluctantly, but they entered the pink and yellow vertically striped tower. It was topped with two glass halos, the upper one being the restaurant. It had a good view of the central tower and a nearby tower topped with a harlequin-patterned egg.

“So,” David started once they were alone, “where do you want to eat?”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter where we eat, as long as there’s some privacy,” Izuku replied.

“Okay,” David said with a nod. He took Izuku to a nearby park, which had a hot dog cart. “Melissa never lets me have these. I’ll have one with everything, chips, and a soda. What about you?”

“The same, I guess.”

After getting their food, the pair meandered down the path until they found a bench down a ways from a snake bridge.

“Here are your results.” David handed him a portable, transparent digital screen. It was coiled inside a silver tube about six inches long. “I think I get why you were hesitant to tell me what this was about. After talking with Toshi, yeah, it wasn’t your secret to tell. So, let’s go over your DNA, Izuku.”

“Uh, okay. I’m glad everything is in the open now.” The screen was the size of half a piece of paper when he pulled it out.

“Yeah. So, the genetics behind this are wild. One for All has literally rewritten your DNA.” David tapped the screen to pull up the results. “You match what I have on file for Toshi pretty closely; you’re basically related now.”

Izuku squawked. “What?”

“Yeah, and it’s not the only weird thing.” David went over the finer points of the read-out with Izuku, including the anomalies on the other samples.

Ragdoll watched with rapt attention, as did a staticy, white-haired figure that kept to the peripheral of Izuku’s vision. 

“You should tell him where you got this sample,” David said seriously. 

“Yeah. I will,” Izuku lied. “Does it have to be tonight? I think I should talk to them first.”

“As long as you tell him. Nana was the closest thing to family for him.”

Izuku nodded. “I know, he told me.”

“Then you realize how important this is to him.”

“Yeah.”

David got a text telling him, Keep Izuku occupied. Inko-san and I are going back to the hotel. 

He sent back, Okay. Then he turned his attention back to Izuku. “Want another hot dog?”

“Sure, but I’m buying this time.”

 

Yagi coughed into his fist after he’d shrunk back down. Inko sat silently for a long time. He watched her unreadable expression with growing unease. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.

“No,” she said. Her tone was neutral, her volume only a little low. “No, that’s not. I mean, I do wish I had been consulted, informed sooner, at least. But I understand the need for discretion.”

“I know it’s a lot…”

“No. Yagi-san, this is a relief. Wondering if Izuku had stumbled into some new variant of trigger was a lot. Fearing that a quirk activated and strengthened through physical damage would lead him to self-harm was a lot. The sudden changes in personality, behavior, and even physically were a lot. Knowing that all of that has a concrete source? That Izuku is okay and understands what’s going on, and he has a support network at Yuuei? That we can all be there for him is the biggest relief of my life.” She reached out and patted Yagi’s arm gently. “Thank you for telling me.”

 “Izuku’s been on me about being honest with the people I trust, actually. He doesn’t know I told you, it’s not something we’ve talked about yet. I want him to understand that this quirk isn’t going to go away.”

“That should calm some of his anxiety,” Inko replied. There was a contemplative tone to her voice. “Although I would like it if Izuku trusted me to tell me himself. Instead of telling him you told me, tell him he has your permission to tell me. Okay?”

“I really don’t like keeping things from him.”

“But you will?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Yagi-san.”

“Please, at this point, you can call me Toshinori.”

“Then you can call me Inko.”

 

When Izuku got back to the hotel, Yagi and his mother were both still up. Yagi was lying on the couch; more specifically, he was scent-marking the couch. Izuku smiled when he traded places with his mother, and she scent-marked the couch as well. The pair noticed him as the door clicked shut behind him.

“Hey,” he greeted them softly.

“Hey,” Inko returned.

“H-hey,” Yagi said hesitantly.

Inko stood up. “I’m going to shower and go to bed.” She stepped over to Izuku and hugged him. “If you need me, wake me up. Okay?”

Izuku hesitated. “Yeah.”

“I mean it, Izuku.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll try. Spiraling can convince me I shouldn’t. Either that the issue isn’t that bad, or I shouldn’t burden others with it.”

“I could stay up with you,” Yagi suggested. “I could sleep on the plane.”

“I suppose you could stay up for a while, but you should get some sleep.”

Yagi nodded. It was a good first step. “Okay.”

Inko headed to the bathroom, leaving the men alone.

“I, um, I want to thank you for encouraging me to talk to David and Mirai.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess.”

“So. I want you to know, if you want to tell your mother about One for All, you have my permission. Not that you actually need it. It’s yours now.”

“Not until the next sports festival,” Izuku corrected.

“Even if I did, and I won’t –”

“You can’t know that.”

Yagi frowned at him. “I’m stubborn. I’m still working the one hour a day I can. I’ve made up my mind, Izuku. You can pass it along if you don’t want it, but it’s yours now, and it’s your choice.”

Izuku teared up and lunged at him, wrapping his arms around his mentor and burying his face in his chest. “You don’t know. You don’t know. You can’t know.”

“I’m fifty years old and have been a pro hero for more than thirty years, I know,” Yagi told him sternly.

“You would hate me.”

“Prove it,” Yagi shot back.

Izuku stayed silent. What could he tell him without a full confession? He sat up and wiped the tears out of his eyes. He could reframe the thing with Aizawa or the racketeering; he could confess to assault but not the murders. Sure, it had been Stain that did the actual killing, but he encouraged and enabled it. He’d cut off Steel Fang’s escape and support. He wasn’t just an accessory; he was an active participant.

“I won’t pressure you to tell me what you think would send me running, but I want you to know I will never abandon you.”

“I’ve hurt people,” he tried, knowing being vague wouldn’t be convincing. “I’ve assaulted someone. I’m not a good person.”

“I’ve seen evidence to the contrary,” Yagi assured him. “We all make mistakes, and bad decisions; and sometimes we aren’t given a choice.”

“I held them down while someone marked them up and kissed them against their will.” There, he’d said it. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and his world was about to come crashing down at the same time. Izuku stared at the floor, unable to bear the inevitable disappointment in Yagi’s eyes.

“Are you doing anything to atone?” Yagi asked softly, gently, as if Izuku would break.

“No,” Izuku admitted, his voice raw with undealt with emotion. “I don’t know how.”

“Well, can you talk to the victim about it?”

Izuku shook his head emphatically.

“Okay,” Yagi said with a sigh. “To start, you can write an apology out. Then, research how to help sexual assault victims in general. Are you still around the other person?”

Izuku nodded.

“That’s not a good idea. Can you stop hanging out with them?”

He shook his head again.

“Do you think they will engage in this behavior again?”

Izuku was still for a moment, and then he shook his head.

“Good. Helping to rehabilitate villains could be a big step on your path to atonement.” He paused. “I won’t tell anyone, but I might ask the other teachers about appropriate punishments for your transgressions. Consequences will help your brain develop and help you make better choices. Have you done anything worse than that?”

Izuku nodded.

“Are you going to tell me?”

He shook his head.

“Alright. We’ll use what we have as a framework. Apologize to the victim, look up how to help other victims and prevent that from happening, get away from the people that you do these things around or with if possible, otherwise try to rehabilitate them so neither of you repeat offend.”

“Okay,” Izuku whispered. “You’re not taking your quirk back?”

“No, I’m not taking your quirk, Izuku.”

“How? Why not?”

“I have faith in you.”

“Why?!”

“You’ve taught me things and reminded me of things I’d forgotten, in the time I’ve known you. At the sports festival, you looked for the best way to demonstrate not just your abilities, but your peers as well.”

“It doesn’t make up for the things I’ve done.”

“No, it doesn’t, but it does tell me you’re a complex, caring person trying to navigate in a difficult and dangerous world. And you will atone for your wrongdoings; you genuinely regret hurting people.”

“Yeah.”

“Come here.” Yagi held out his arms. Izuku crawled onto his lap and tucked himself under Yagi’s chin. “I’m not going to abandon you.”

“But…”

“We’ll fight it. You make me want to, need to live.”

Inko came out in her nightclothes. “Are we doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Yagi said. “He’s just … emotionally overwrought. It’s been a lot.”

Inko nodded and headed to the bathroom.

“Are you sure you want me to tell her?” Izuku said softly. “What about keeping the circle small?”

“What happened with David was a real eye-opener. And I can’t train you properly without help. I’ve been living with a system I inherited from Nana. I didn’t question it or examine it too closely until I had you to worry about. You need more support. I needed more support. I don’t want you to have to go through what I did; alone, scared, and grieving.”

Izuku tightened his grip. “Not alone anymore.”

               

Inko had cuddled with them for hours until Yagi had fallen asleep on the couch. Neither of them had the heart to wake him. She’d assured Izuku that it was no bother if he needed them again, and left her door open when she went back to bed.

Izuku spent the early morning hours pacing and packing; by the time the sun’s first light peeked over the horizon, he was finished. He had nibbled at the various leftovers in the fridge, contemplating making breakfast for his… mother and mentor.

As the soft golden light of the rising sun filtered in through the glass wall, Yagi was eased from a deep sleep to a lighter one. He stretched languidly and gave a soft moan. His eyes fluttered open, but he lazed on the couch for a while before stretching again and sitting up. Before he padded to the bathroom, he looked at Izuku and said, “Morning. Sorry, I fell asleep on you.”

“It’s okay. It was better tonight. I’m just sorry you slept on the couch instead of that comfortable bed.”

“Nah, I don’t want to get spoiled.”

Izuku chuckled. “You could afford a custom bed.”

“Pro heroes travel more than you’d think, and hotels rarely have more than a queen-sized bed, let alone something so magnificently large.”

He nodded. “I guess. But you deserved to be comfortable.”

Yagi scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m just between permanent residences right now.”

Izuku eyed him with something akin to suspicion. “If you get a ‘permanent residences’ and a decent bed, I’ll tell my mom about One for All.”

“Izuku, you should tell her because you trust her.”

“You’re ‘between permanent residences’ because you don’t really think you’ll be here for me,” he shot back.

Yagi looked down at the floor. Izuku was right. He was planning to fail, to die. “I want to fight it, but we still need to be prepared for the –”

“Inevitable,” Izuku interrupted.

“– the worst,” Yagi continued. “Nana’s death was sudden and violent. I want to soften the blow as much as I can.”

“I appreciate the concern,” Izuku said uncertainly, “but I think your effort and energy would be better spent elsewhere. I know it’s a possibility. I know it’s coming. I’m as prepared for it as I can be.”

“Uh, okay. So, what do you need?”

“You have to live like you haven’t been diagnosed as terminal,” Izuku replied, hope lifting his voice.

Yagi nodded. “I’ll try.”

“Good. Now, help me make breakfast; we need to consume these leftovers.”

 

Melissa hugged him. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad we’re on the right feet now.” Izuku returned the hug.

“Visit soon,” David told Yagi. “And call more. I know we both get busy, but I miss you.”

Yagi wrapped him in a bear hug. “I will, promise. Maybe I could come out around Christmas? If I wouldn’t be imposing?”

“Of course you can spend Christmas with us!” David and Melissa said in unison.

Yagi smiled. “Thank you.”

Melissa hugged him tightly. “You are always welcome. We love you, Uncle Toshi.”

“I love you both, too,” he told them.

David ruffled Izuku’s hair and hugged Inko. Melissa hugged her as well. The group said their final goodbyes, and three of them boarded the plane. Izuku was excited to be going home, but he would miss David and Melissa. At least he’d get some coping skills out of it. Hopefully.

Chapter 102: Giving the Gift of Time

In order to make it a full ten days, Izuku had to wait until Wednesday night to see Tomura and the League. At least he knew how to spend the time. First, he polished up his woefully short punishment essay, then he compiled the information about Nana Shimura and her family onto the data display David let him keep; it already had the DNA results.

He was idly flipping through his vacation pictures to send them to his friends when he stumbled across the pictures from the National Museum. The faded yellow article about the Meta Abilities Registration Act in particular caught his eye. Izuku was able to locate the article online and read it.

While not the spearhead of the movement, Yuuki Shigaraki was an important financial backer. Izuku read the man’s bio; he wasn’t that interesting, but was wealthy and extremely pro-quirk regulation. He seemed to feel that quirks should be treated like weapons, despite the many utilitarian aspects.

From there, he was able to research his children, Atomu and Yoichi. Atomu became a doctor and looked after his sickly younger brother. He was, like his father, never at the forefront of any movement, but he played a significant part in funding many – often conflicting – political parties. He helped shape how Japan viewed and treated quirks. He was an active political figure until his brother was kidnapped. Without the ongoing medical treatment Atomu provided, it was assumed he died. Atomu held out hope and did not allow the authorities to declare Yoichi dead until he had been missing for seven years. After that, he became increasingly reclusive. There was no death certificate on record for Atomu, and many of his charitable donations have continued into the present day, presumably managed by the descendants of his secretary or personal assistant.

Izuku was a little impressed that Sensei never faked his death and just kept using his real identity for his political machinations. He, technically, had a real, live person to point to.

 

In their shared room, Toga carefully unwrapped Kurogiri’s injuries. They were healing nicely. She cleaned and rebandaged them without fanfare or flirting; the task had become routine over the last two weeks. There was very little blood, but it had long since lost its appeal. It had sung to her at first, and she had taken the occasional lick. While she had revealed in wearing his ethereal form, something was missing.

The world tasted like ash in his mouth. While she often heard him humming along with music, it was dull and lifeless in his ears. Toga had expected to be unable to feel the particles that wafted off his flesh, but instead, it made the edges of her perception blurry. His sight was clouded and discolored as if he were peering through a thick fog.

Now done with her task, she licked Kurogiri’s flesh; shoulder to spine, collarbone to navel, hip to knee. The mist tickled her lips and tongue.

His hands found her hair, and with a murmured ‘Oh, love,’ he pulled her up for a deep and sensual kiss. “Don’t tease me.”

“Lies, you love being teased,” Toga said, pulling back and lightly pushing him down on the bed. “But if you insist…” She stood as if to leave.

“Oh, Hiki, please,” he moaned, reaching for her. “Koi, Sweetheart.”

Toga leaned down and kissed him. First on the forehead, then the tip of his nose, then she trailed kisses down his neck and nipped his shoulder. They both groaned as her tongue laved over his pecs, giving special attention to the few streaks of raised flesh that indicated a scar hidden beneath his mist.

His breath hitched as the kisses and licks became nips and nibbles. She dipped lower; her tongue dancing over the tight muscles of Kurogiri’s abs. He moaned as she trailed a long, sensuous lick from the hollow of his hip inward to the base of his cock. She bit his inner thigh lightly.

“Such a tease, Koi,” he gasped out. “Please, please.”

“Please, what?” she asked far too innocently.

“Anything,” his hands tangled in the comforter, “just don’t stop.”

Toga giggled mischievously as she continued to suck and bite his soft flesh. She would work her way to his member and rub it on her cheek, maybe even lap at the tip, before moving to his ear, wrist, or ankle and slowly working her way back. She paid careful attention to his pulse points, eliciting gasps and moans as she tickled and teased them.

“Hold still for me,” Toga instructed before wrapping her hand around the base of his cock. After a few teasing swipes with her tongue, she took his tip into her mouth.

Kurogiri moaned as she slowly took more of him in. Her head bobbed in a lazy rhythm until her lips met her hand. With a pleased moan, Toga stopped. She lay with her body draped over Kurogiri’s legs; her only movements were from her soft breathing.

At first, he didn’t realize what she was doing. When he did, he started begging, “Sweetheart, please, please, I’m so close. Don’t do this to me, love. I wasn’t prepared.” His hand moved to rest on the back of her head, but he quickly pulled away and bunched up the comforter in his fists. With an aroused and frustrated groan, he continued, “Koi, please. Move, do something. This is agony. Please, Sweetheart.”

Toga struggled to stay still. Occasionally, she would swallow reflexively. Eventually, a particularly desperate bit of begging made her laugh. 

“Yes, more of that. Please.”

She stilled again and waited as the seconds ticked by. Slowly, they turned into minutes, and finally, Kurogiri’s control broke. He whined and made shallow thrusts with his hips.

Toga sat up with an evil grin. “Naughty boy, I asked you to hold still.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “I would have done better if you’d have informed me ahead of time.”

“What makes you think I want you to do better?” She asked as she moved from his knees to his pelvis. She sat with his cock trapped beneath her.

“I, uh, Him-Hiki, Koi, Sweetheart,” he corrected himself. “I don’t think we should do this.” 

“Don’t think you can behave yourself?” She began rocking her hips.

“I -Oh god- I’m not sure. Even so, I can’t remember the last time I bought condoms.”

“I’m clean,” she said. “I’m sure you are, too.”

“Not the - not the point, love. If you …”

“Right, you did say you weren’t into daddy kink.” She rose off him and slid off the bed. “Stay put.”  

She returned before the cool air in the bedroom became torturous against his bare skin. As she reached for him, Kurogiri grabbed her wrist. “Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The first time two people have sex is an important step in a relationship. I don’t want you to feel pressured or disappointed.”

“You think you’ll disappoint me?”

Kurogiri looked away from her. “Few of my relationships have lasted very long after the act.”

Toga stared at him, uncomprehending, for a moment. “Are you too rough? Or just bad at it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. They usually tell me they got bored or fell out of love with me.”

“Oh, baby.” She climbed onto the bed and lay next to him. “It’s okay. If you’re not ready, we don’t have to. How could someone get bored with teasing you? Stupid people.” She grinned evilly and started nuzzling his ear. She whispered sweet nothing as her breath made his mist dance. Her hand lazily stroked his cock. “I’ll wait for you.”

 

Burnin’ ordered another round of veggie trays and cold sandwiches to stock the bullpen. Hot food was done once per shift; six-hour shifts to prevent exhaustion, one on two off, and one full day off a week, except for Endeavor. He would stay in the office for three days, sleeping two to four hours once a day, and then go home for a night so Fuyumi-Chan wouldn’t worry too much.

She picked the food up rather than having it delivered. It shouldn’t have required four people, but she wasn’t about to ignore Endeavor’s orders. Death Arms was found over the weekend in a pool of his own blood. He was barely ranked in the double digits, but he was a powerful melee fighter. How clean the cuts were, how little struggle, terrified her more than anything else. Stain’s quirk was still as unknown as his identity, but it allowed him to take out fully trained and armored pro heroes with little effort.

“Twenty-three killed and twenty-three crippled,” she murmured as they got out of the car.

“For fuck’s sake, we know. Can you give it a rest?” one of the two rookies she’d brought along to stretch their legs complained.

Onima gave the idiot a love tap to the back of the head. “You only know the fear the boss put into you. You haven’t got the brains to be scared of Stain. I get it. You’re thinking ‘He’s just one guy,’ and ‘we’re pro heroes, we can take him.’ Thing is, we don’t know that. With the footage of his Shiketsu kills, we see that he’s got a team. I clocked at least four different angles. So, that means he’s running a crew of five people. He may be the only fighter, but that means that the other four are buffing him somehow.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Burnin’ pointed out.

“And that makes him, them, more dangerous. Plus, Stain always ambushes his targets when they’re alone. I think any reasonably well-trained team could take him out, but I’d want to trade you two probies for, like, Kido and Kirin. No offence, but you just haven’t seen real combat. Purse-snatchers and drug dealers are criminals, sure, but they’re not villains. And until you’ve faced a real villain, you don’t even realize that there is a difference. And that gets people killed. So get fucking used to it, or I’ll tattoo on the inside of your eyelids. Twenty-three killed and twenty-three crippled; all of them better trained, more experienced, and better prepared than you. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!” the rookies yelped.

 

Izuku reached the largest tree in Momijiyama Park at eight forty-five, fifteen minutes before the scheduled meeting. He was nervous that it would wind up being a setup, and depending on who they told, he would be in a world of trouble. Aizawa-sensei would be the worst option. He knew how dangerous Stray was. What he was capable of. Yagi… would hurt, but he didn’t think they’d even know how to contact him. Nezu was his best bet if the dog-bear-mouse’s reputation was to be believed. He might just slip Izuku into the position of pawn and continue playing the game.

He had let Tokoyami choose the meeting point. He was surprised that it was someplace so private. He lost himself for a moment, wondering what their reasoning had been. He muttered to himself about whether it was smarter to isolate as they had done (to minimize casualties) or to choose a public space and hope he didn’t fight. Clearly, they had thought that he would not only put up a fight but also endanger civilians while doing so.

“Actually,” Shoji said, interrupting his train of thought, “We figured that if we picked someplace public, we’d have to relocate to see the evidence you gathered.”

“Oh.” Izuku looked up at him. He and Tokoyami were nestled among the tree’s thick branches. “A third option. Good.” He hopped up the tree and handed the data display to Tokoyami. “Once you’re satisfied with that, I have some souvenirs for you.”

“You are overly confident,” Tokoyami said as he slid the screen out. He settled in to read each file thoroughly. 

As it would take some time for him to go over it all, Izuku pulled out an apple and began sectioning it to share with Dark Shadow. 

“Bribery will get you nowhere.”

“Okay. But I’m not bribing him. I’m sharing my snacks.”  

Shoji snickered as he accepted an individually wrapped string cheese.   

Eventually, Tokoyami finished reading and passed the display to Shoji. “That is very informative, at least what of it I could follow,” he said. “How did you access the hero network?”

Izuku opened his mouth to reply and immediately shut it. Could he tell them about Search? At least Ragdoll was alive. 

“Go on,” she encouraged him. “They already know about the Eldritch Bastard. If you’re scared, there’s no need to tell them about One for All, yet.”

He gave a little nod. Quietly, he said, “I told you about All for One, about Shigaraki-sensei.”

Both boys nodded. Tokoyami’s brow was furrowed in confusion. 

Izuku realized he would need to spell it out for them. “I’m just lucky he didn’t kill her.” He scrubbed his sleeve across his eyes as he started to tear up. “It’s my fault, I didn’t have time to ask before going to I-island, and then there was no way to get out of the training camp. He was so angry, but he promised Tomura that he wouldn’t punish me.”

“I don’t understand,” Tokoyami said, while Dark Shadow wrapped himself comfortingly around Izuku’s shoulders. 

“He gave me her quirk. Search. Ragdoll’s quirk.” He touched his temple. “But he forgets that more than power comes with it. She can talk to me. She knows things that Ragdoll knows. Like how to log into the Hero Network.”

“Prove it,” Shoji said.

Izuku took out his phone and typed in Ragdoll’s username and password. 

“It’s been changed,” Ragdoll told him. “I think they noticed our activity.” She recited the string of ten random characters.

Izuku couldn’t help looking at her as she spoke and showed her the phone to make sure he’d gotten it right. He knew he had to look delusional, but the password was correct. He passed the phone to Shoji. “She changed her password. I guess she was notified that her account was logged into.”

“This is hard to believe.”

“I don’t know how else I could convince you. I can ask Ragdoll’s vestige things, and if Ragdoll knows it, there’s a chance the vestige knows it too.” 

“So they could lock you out by changing the password again?”

“Yep.” 

“Your other quirks,” Tokoyami said slowly, “who are they from?”

“Ah, well, their names are Nanji and Mikage,” he replied, hoping that the answer would satisfy them.

“And the third one?” Shoji asked as if reading Izuku’s mind.

“Third?” Izuku repeated. “Rapid Healing, Shadow Bind, Search. All three accounted for.”

“The super strength.”

“Green-boy is powerful,” Dark Shadow said. He rubbed his cheek against Izuku’s. 

Izuku gave him a rueful smile. He wondered how much he’d be forced to tell them to satisfy their curiosity. The truth without any damning details was worth a try. The name would be meaningless to them, anyway. He had managed to keep his identity private. “Toshinori Yagi.”

This seemed to satisfy them, at least for the moment. “How do you plan on saving Tomura Shigaraki?”

“I… I don’t have a real plan. For now, I’m just trying to humanize him. He was raised to be a weapon. I’m trying to teach him to be a person,” Izuku lamented. “To that end, would you accept your souvenirs?”

“Presumptuous,” Tokoyami scolded.

“Not really,” Izuku replied. “If you’re on board, you’ll accept the gifts. If you’re not, you’ll act like you are, then turn the gifts over to the pros when you tell them I’m Stray. You’re smart enough not to tip your hand over something so small.”

Tokoyami frowned. “How can you trust us?”

“I don’t have many options. I won’t hurt or threaten you.” Izuku shrugged. “I can’t trust you not to turn me in, but I can trust you to do what you think is right.”

“Very well,” Tokoyami agreed. “As long as it’s nothing too expensive. “

Izuku grinned sheepishly at him. “Expense is a relative thing.” He pulled out the three wrapped boxes.

Dark Shadow chipped in delight and hugged the green box, crumpling the shiny red bow a bit as he rubbed his cheek against it. “I love it!”

“You haven’t even opened it,” Izuku reminded him.

“There’s more?” He asked, undoing the ribbon. “Only Fumi’s given me gifts before, and he never wraps them.”

“I hope you like it, then.”

Dark Shadow’s glowing yellow eyes brightened as he examined the sleek and slim electronic device. “Is this really just for me?”

“Of course,” Izuku reassured him. “I couldn’t get Tokoyami something and not you. That’s not fair.”

Tokoyami was conflicted. On the one hand, no one had ever treated Dark Shadow as a person before. It made him happy, and a warm buzz of joy and contentment flooded through their bond. On the other hand, he couldn’t help but think the villain was using Dark Shadow to keep him from turning him in. “It’s cruel,” he muttered.

“What?” Izuku asked.

“It’s cruel to use him like this,” Tokoyami spoke up. “The way the two of you have… interacted, you must know how he feels.”

Izuku frowned deeply. “I’m not using him. I know you won’t believe me, but I meant everything I’ve said to you.” He paused, thinking about his interactions with the sentient quirk. The feeling of drowning in the cold depths of the ocean washed over him, as vivid and powerful as when it happened. For a moment, he struggled to breathe. “I … it’s not my intention to use any of you, least of all Dark Shadow. I, he. What happened… I don’t understand it, but I know he’s… fond of me.” He fumbled for words to express the slippery and fleeting fragments of memory or emotion that had washed over him.

“It’s too expensive anyway,” Tokoyami said, pushing the box back at him.

Izuku just grinned at him. “Not really. Consider it an investment. This way, you, or the pros you turn it over to, can talk to Tomura and help guide him toward rescue and rehabilitation.”

“Do you really think you can save him?”

“Only if he wants to be saved,” Izuku replied. “But that’s where you three come in. A lot of abuse victims don’t realize that they are being abused until someone shows them how they should be treated.”

“This will not end well,” Tokoyami said. 

“No,” Izuku agreed, “but it could end successfully, and that’s more important.”

Tokoyami sighed heavily. He glanced at Shoji for confirmation. The other boy nodded. “Very well. You have bought yourself three months. I hope you will at least have a plan by then.”

Izuku nodded solemnly. “Thank you.”

“Show me how to set this up, then,” Shoji said. “I’m not that good with electronics.”

“It's super simple,” Izuku said. He turned to him and began explaining how to configure the DSR. Dark Shadow listened with rapt attention as well. The system started with an eye test. It covered both font size and color perception. Both Tokoyami and Dark Shadow could see in ultraviolet. “That is so cool.”

“I’m still not comfortable with this,” Tokoyami said, gesturing with the DSR as if to hand it back to Izuku.

“Here, I’ll put in a couple of friend codes for you. Mine, my mom’s, Kaminari, Yaoyorozu – she can give the rest of the girls’ –, Aizawa-sensei, Yagi, and of course, Toki, Hiki, and Kuu.”

“Another one of the, uh, quirk donors is still alive? And you’re in contact with him?” Shoji asked.

“Yeah.” Izuku mentally kicked himself for the slip-up.

“Does he know you work for the League of Villains?”

“No, of course not.” He looked down. “I… I can’t tell him. He would never forgive me.” Izuku’s breath came in frantic little gasps. “I don’t want to betray or disappoint him, but I can’t abandon Tomura.”

Dark Shadow wrapped around him. Izuku felt the intended comfort, but it also evoked memories of mutilating Moonfish. He shivered in the remembered cold. Thoughts and memories not his own flooded Izuku’s mind, flitting about like schools of fish as slippery and alien as the creatures of the deep.

He fought a wave of nausea as he was all but overwhelmed by overlapping memories of pulling Moonfish’s teeth out. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I… I’m working on… not doing that.”

“I,” Tokoyami began, but he was interrupted by Dark Shadow.

“I’m sorry too. Green-boy helped focus me, but… I scared Fumi.”

Izuku cocked his head and checked Dark Shadow out with Search. Fumikage Tokoyami, Quirk: Dark Shadow – A sentient shadow construct that protects the user. Power and aggressiveness are dependent on illumination levels, emitter, active, materialize, and dematerialize at will. Does not de-materialize if the user is unconscious, requires no concentration, accumulation of dark/shadow energy increases power and aggressiveness, one hundred and fifty foot range, and is B-tier strength.

“It’s alright, Dark Shadow. We can both work on it. Maybe even together, if it’s okay with Tokoyami.”

“I will consider it.”

“Yay!” Izuku and Dark Shadow cheered together.

“That does not mean yes,” he chided.

“It means yes,” Dark Shadow said to Izuku.

 

Rei Todoroki tossed and turned in her sleep. The shrilling of the kettle was a constant backdrop to her nightmares now. “Mom? What are you saying?” “Look at me!” “He’s already five.” “You’re guilty too.”

She had to. She had to. She had no choice. That child was the spitting image of his father. Enji would only be able to ignore it for so long.

The kettle’s shrill became the screams of a child. She had to. She had to.

 

Yagi had slept for nearly twelve hours after getting back to Aizawa and Yamada’s apartment. When he woke up, Extra was sleeping on his hip, and Aizawa was spooning him. He lay there for ten minutes – feeling Aizawa’s hot breath caress his spine – before his hip started to ache. “I really should get a decent bed.”

“Mm-hmm,” Aizawa agreed sleepily.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Yagi said. “How do I adjust the cat?”

Aizawa sat up, made kissy noises, and called, “Extra, my sweet beastie, come here,” while patting his shoulder.

The cat looked up at him, deeply considering his offer before laying its head back down.

Aizawa chuckled. “Come on. It’s dinnertime. You and Yagi both need to eat.” He lifted the cat despite its little ‘mwrrr’ of protest. He stood up while draping the beast around his neck. “Extra’s going to miss you when you finally find a place.”

“I’ll miss him too.”

“Maybe you could cat sit for us sometimes.”

“I’d like that,” Yagi said hesitantly. It felt like making a promise he knew he couldn’t keep. He decided to change the subject. “Izuku confessed to the club incident yesterday.”

Aizawa raised his eyebrows at him.

“Well, not out right of course. He admitted to holding someone still while his friend ‘marked them up’ and kissed them against their will.”

Aizawa made a small non-committal noise. “It’s a start. I guess.”

“I told him he has to write an apology letter and look up how to help sexual assault victims in general,” Yagi explained as he made his way to the bathroom.

“At least we know he feels guilty about it,” Aizawa acceded, stopping at the door. While Yagi was busy in the bathroom, he prepared the cat’s dinner: a half can of wet food and a scoop of dry food each.

When Yagi came out, Aizawa was setting the table while Yamada fluffed the rice in the steamer. “Oh, um, also, I told Inko about One for All. She was very relieved, but she asked that I let Izuku come to her on his own.”

“He’s not going to,” Yamada muttered.

“When I let him know he could tell her, he said he would if I got a permanent residence and a proper bed.”

“Always negotiating.”

“Yes, well…”

“Stay here,” Aizawa said. “Stay with us. I, uh, we could put you on the lease if he wants paperwork about it.”

“Yeah,” Yamada agreed enthusiastically. “Besides, you won’t take care of yourself if we let you live alone.”

“I –” he started, but a raised eyebrow from each of them stopped him. “I try, sometimes I get distracted.”

“We all do,” Yamada said and patted his arm. “That’s why we need to help each other.”

“Besides, you can’t tell me that at least some of it isn’t depression convincing you that you don’t deserve food, love, or self-care.”

Yagi frowned, but found he couldn’t argue in good faith. “I guess it would be easier than finding a place. And I wouldn’t have to worry about what happens when –”

“If,” Yamada corrected.

“If I die.”

Aizawa set the shogayaki – thinly sliced pork and grated ginger grilled with sliced onions – on the table with the rice and a salad with cabbage, radish, onion, and carrot. Yagi smiled as he noticed that Yamada had a side of tomato wedges and cucumber slices, and Aizawa had placed toasted sesame seeds and two different salad dressings on the table. It was a small thing, but the respect they consistently showed towards his dietary restrictions warmed his heart. They simply accommodated him, rather than making him feel like he was a burden or a bother. It was a supremely inexpensive meal, especially as it was likely made of leftovers, but Yagi wouldn’t give it up for anything, not even pulled pork.

Yagi pulled out his phone and made a note on it. He glanced up at the pair. “Sorry, it’s my homework.”

“Homework?”

“Yeah, my therapist wants me to log any occurrence that motivates me to, you know, not give up.”

“You found a therapist? Congratulations,” Yamada said.

Aizawa nodded. “Good. Feel free to tell them anything about us; we won’t be offended.”

“You two have been nothing but kind to me.”

Aizawa snorted. “That is flatly untrue. I’m an asshole to begin with, and I take a long time to warm up to people. Plus, you had a rocky start teaching.”

“He did get a few things right,” Yamada interjected. “He’s not so free with compliments that they don’t mean anything to the students, and he remembers to praise their improvements.”

Yagi gave them a sheepish grin. “I actually used Bakugo and Midoriya as a crash course before I started. I would have been terrible without them.”

“Midoriya mostly?”

Yagi nodded. “Not to discount the importance of learning how to motivate and calm down, a student like Bakugo. Surviving him is a feat unto itself, but helping him identify his limitations and work towards overcoming them safely and healthily is …”

“Damn near impossible.”

“A real challenge.”

“…an experience.  He reminds me of how I was just after I lost Nana. Hyper motivated, raw emotions, and no self-preservation.” He paused. “It just occurred to me that we should watch out for self-worth issues with Bakugo.”

Aizawa nodded. “He’s tied his worth pretty tightly to his quirk, and after the injuries he received,” he sighed, “I just hope he goes to counseling.”

“Why does this have to be so complicated?” Yagi asked.

“Teenagers are always complicated,” Yamada replied. “This just involves less dating than normal.”

Aizawa let out a bark of laughter. “So far.”

Chapter 103

Izuku struggled not to run straight to the park when nine o’clock rolled around. He hugged his mother and said good night. She reminded him that he was to text the address of whatever gym they were at as soon as they arrived. He readily agreed, even knowing that it was a lie. Finally, he was free to go.

He made sure the door was locked behind him and jumped the railing, not trusting himself to walk respectfully down the stairs. He hit the ground running and barely glanced at the quiet street for oncoming traffic. Heedless of any neighbors that might be looking out their windows, he went straight into the playground. 

He barely managed to take stock of his surroundings before dashing into the octopus-shaped play structure. There, an ominous black void appeared before him; purple mist spiraling out from the center. It began to fill the enclosure.

Izuku rubbed against the edge of Kurogiri’s warp gate, breathing in the not-wet-but-not-dry particles of his mist. The familiar tickle caused a wave of warmth and joy to wash over him. The void seemed to wrap him in a loving embrace as he lingered in this space between spaces.

“I missed you,” Kurogiri said softly, his arms forming around Izuku.

“Missed you, too,” he replied. He felt like an intruder in his own skin for a moment before turning and burying his face in Kurogiri’s chest. He rubbed his cheeks and forehead against the charcoal vest with off-white pinstripes. He was wearing his gray and gold checked tie. Izuku nuzzled that as well. “So much.”

The usual grays and blacks of the room were broken up with pops of yellow. The charcoal comforter and gray long-haired faux fur pillow were paired with bright yellow sheets and pillowcases. A glass container of whole lemons sat on the dresser. The small koi-shaped paper lantern Izuku had won last year was on Kurogiri’s nightstand. The LED jellyfish aquarium on Izuku’s nightstand was set to a cheery yellow. The art prints were recently replaced by a collection of pressed flowers.

He dragged Kurogiri to the bed.

“You should get dressed,” he said weakly, already bending down to kiss Izuku.

“Yeah. I will,” he replied, “in a minute.”

“We have things to do, love.”

“Mmm, no,” Izuku replied as he wrapped his shadow around Kurogiri. He pulled him closer, leaning up to kiss him. The slide of his tongue against Kurogiri’s sent heat throughout his body. He ran his hands over his arms and shoulders. Eventually, he tangled them in Kurogiri’s hair. 

“Ah, gently,” he whispered. “I’m still injured.”

Izuku drew back with a concerned expression. “Sorry.” He loosened the tight hold of his shadow. 

“It’s alright. Normally, I would like this, ah, dominant and possessive behavior,” Kurogiri practically purred into his ear. He begged, “But, please, be gentle with me. I’m tender.”

Izuku gave a soft moan and began nuzzling Kurogiri’s chest. He sought out his bandages and laid a single chaste kiss on each. There were so many little wounds, and his ribs were still bruised. It had only been two weeks since the training camp.

Izuku’s breath hitched. He tried to steady his breathing, but instead of the comforting tickle of Kurogiri’s not-wet-not-dry mist and the scent of his lavender and mint body wash, his senses were assaulted with heat, ash, and smoke.

He rolled off the bed, his stomach lurching. Memories, both shared and not his own, swarmed his mind. He tried to focus on the room: the rough texture of the jute and cotton rug, the smooth wood floor, the soft grass next to the hard-packed earth of the dirt path in the woods.

Heat. Blood. Smoke. Fear. Anger. He felt like he was drowning in the cold depths of the ocean. Thoughts and memories flooded Izuku’s mind, flitting about like schools of fish as slippery and alien as the creatures of the deep. He could feel bile rising in his throat. With every heartbeat, Izuku felt colder; even his Shadow began to grow numb. His vision blurred. 

Something wet, almost slimy, squiggled in his ear. It was enough to jolt Izuku out of his panic attack. Kurogiri was beside him, rubbing gentle circles on his back and murmuring reassurances between licks. 

“I think I’m okay.”

“What brought that on?” Kurogiri asked, his voice filled with concern.

“Safety,” Izuku replied. “I haven’t really had time to process the last attack.”

“Are you upset?” Sensei’s voice called from the living room. 

Izuku gulped, realizing that there was no privacy in the apartment at all. “Yes?” He replied questioningly. “But if you mean am I upset with Tomura, no. Why would I be?”

“He keeps attacking your friends.”

Izuku stood and, on shaking knees, made his way to the living room. Reclining on the small, worn sofa, Tomura was playing an older RPG. “I have to live with that. I can live with that. He’s giving me every concession he can, and we’ve talked about it beforehand both times. He doesn’t want to hurt them, but it makes news, and it shakes faith. Don’t get me wrong, I’m looking forward to targeting other schools just to give them a break, but … I can do what Tomura needs me to.”

Izuku’s eyes roamed the room as he spoke. A glass vase holding a bouquet of sunflowers and weighted down by seashells sat on the coffee table. A bold yellow throw pillow had been added to the armchair that Toga was curled up in. Tomura’s shelves featured a Pikachu plushie, a large Chocobo figurine, and a number of predominantly yellow Funko Pops. A flock of little yellow butterflies hung from the ceiling near the kitchen. Finally, his gaze settled on Tomura and his soft, fond smile. 

Izuku practically flung himself across Tomura’s lap. He rubbed his forehead and cheeks against Tomura’s chest. The silvered pinky bones felt cool and smooth compared to the worn long-sleeved tee shirt he was wearing. 

Tomura sat stiffly, as if shocked by the display, until he snapped, “Hey, careful!”

“Mm, sorry,” Izuku replied. “Needed you to smell like colony.”

“I’m almost positive that you’re using that as an excuse to be a cuddly little bitch.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “Good news, though: my pack bonding issues don’t come from scent. Scent marking just makes me feel more secure in my connections.”

“Good. Now get off of me.”

“Five more minutes?”

“Thirty seconds, then …” He held his hand up and wiggled his fingers menacingly. 

“I don’t believe you.”

Tomura sighed. “You need to get dressed. The others are waiting.”

“Let them wait.”

“Spoiled cat-boy,” he grumbled and carded his fingers through Izuku’s hair.

“How cute,” Sensei said sardonically. 

“Er, yeah. Anyway, Stray, you do have to get dressed now, we’re behind enough as it is with your little vacation. Go on.”

Reluctantly but obediently, Izuku stood and made his way to the bathroom. Slowly, it became easier to breathe as he applied his contacts, hair dye, and ears. He felt secure and comfortable in his tactical pants, jacket, and bullet-resistant chest piece. His skin felt like his own again. The collar, gloves, and boots made him feel powerful and confident. He could do anything he set his mind to; anything Tomura needed him to.

He stood for a few moments studying his reflection. In his full regalia, Izuku became Stray. The anxiety practically melted away. He would save Tomura Shigaraki. He would save everyone. 

Toga entered the bathroom without knocking. “We have a few minutes,” she said coyly.

“Good,” he replied, his mask making his voice deep, tinny, and echoing. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. Izuku ran his hands through her hair and rubbed his forehead against hers. “Missed you.”

“Yeah?” she asked, her hands caressing his belt.

“Yes,” he replied, grabbing her wrists and bringing her hands to his face. “Missed you all so much.” He rubbed her palms over his face and then did the same to her.

Toga laughed. “Goof.”

“You love me,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said, sliding her hands back to his belt.

“We do have to go.”

“It can be quick.”

“I don’t want it to be quick, Koi. That’s the problem. I want to touch every part of you, taste you, linger.”

She deftly unbuckled his belt. “You can do that later; let me do this.”

“Koi,” he chided. “I don’t want to use you.”

“Mmm, but I want you to. Let me make you cum. Let me make you beg.”

“I’m already begging,” he said, gripping her wrists. “Please, wait, so we can do this properly.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You love teasing me,” he replied ruefully.

“Yeah, but you deserve it this time.” Despite his protests, she reached into his pants and began rubbing his rapidly growing member.

“Koi,” he said breathlessly.

“What?” she asked teasingly.

Before he could reply, there was a bang on the door. “Time’s up!” Tomura shouted. “We’re leaving. I hope you have pants on!”

 

“Mustard, Dabi, and Compress, you’ll be working with Stray and Koi.” Tomura strode toward the large crate in the center of the warehouse. “Magne, any developments with the Blush angle?”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, not. We know it’s being manufactured here in Tokyo, but that’s it. They move the delivery sites so often, we can’t track up the chain any further.”

“Okay. You join Spinner on his field trip with Stain, then.”

“Fine, but I don’t like it.”

“Duly noted,” Tomura replied. “Twice, you’re with me.”

“Alright! Lead the way,” he said enthusiastically. Then, more seriously, he added, “Where are we going?”

“Giran got us some interesting wares and maybe a lead on a tutor for Mustard.”

When the information broker was warped to the warehouse, Tomura took him outside to talk, while Toga started Mustard and Compress with some stretches. Izuku took Dabi off to the side to work with him directly.

“I’m not going to waste time treating you like you can’t fight. So, let’s see what you can do. Refrain from lighting me on fire, if you at all possible.”

He smirked and launched into an aggressive salvo of punches. They were wide and wild but powerful. More so than Dabi’s lean frame would imply. Izuku gave ground as he evaluated Dabi’s footwork. He stayed in his stance with his head offline and shuffled toward his opponent. When Dabi took a slight step back – baiting Izuku – the boy stepped into it and tanked the vicious uppercut that followed. 

Their styles were as different as Muhammad Ali and Joe Louis, almost opposite ends of the spectrum; shuffling vs. dancing. Dabi had a relaxed gait, never crossed his feet, and pivoted beautifully to add momentum to his strikes. The groundwork was there, but the style was all wrong for his body type and weight class.

Izuku made a mental list of drills for Dabi as he shifted gears and began peppering him with jabs. Countering and blocking were not Dabi’s strong suits, and he gave ground to avoid the swarm of light blows. It was clear that he relied heavily on his quirk.

“Okay,” Izuku said, hopping back. “Not bad. There’s plenty to work with there. We can start on your defense and teach you another style of footwork.”

“Yours?”

“I mean, yeah. It’ll supplement what you have and give you versatility.”

“Whatever.”

“You want to put a target on Endeavor? You have to put in the legwork. Speaking of which, we’re going to start you on parkour. You’re a glass cannon, so endurance training, too. What else… let’s see,” he began muttering to himself as he activated Search.

Toya Todoroki, twenty-three, male, five feet nine inches, one hundred and twenty-four pounds, blood pressure one hundred and thirty over eighty-two, one hundred percent oxygen saturation, pulse one hundred and seventy, respiration eighteen, blood sugar ninety, vitamin deficiencies: folate, vitamin A, B1, C, zinc, and magnesium, burns and scaring over fifty percent of body…

While Dabi had no major injuries currently, he had a myriad of past injuries, burns, and bruises that were healing, low bone density, and other ailments common to those who lived on the fringes of society.

“Resources are going to be the most important thing,” he murmured to himself. “Imagine if he had a decent meal and a good night’s sleep. Seriously going to look into buying that property.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Mm. Get a personality that consists of more than long sullen silences and mean comments, and we’ll talk.”

 

Outside, Tomura, Twice, and Kurogiri stood in the moonlight while Giran took a long drag on a cheap cigarette. He exhaled fully before offering one to Twice, who shook his head while taking it. He muttered his thanks around the cigarette while lighting it.

“So, what have you got for us?”

“There aren’t a lot of snipers in Japan that would work with you lot. No shade on you guys, they can be a bit… psycho to be honest. I’ve got a lead on some rifles, a shipment of non-lethal rounds, and there’s a rumor about quirk erasing bullets I’m looking into. There’s a guy, Golden Bear, who would do the training, but I don’t think you’ll want him. He’ll take the kid on as an apprentice for twelve weeks, just the two of them.”

“Fuck that,” Tomura agreed. “You were right to set the kid up with us. I’m not going to send him off with a stranger. The twerp is growing on me. Get the rifles and the ammo; we’ll figure out the training ourselves if we have to.”

“I’ll keep looking,” Giran promised.

“I know you will, and we appreciate it.”

 

Izuku had arranged himself in the middle of the bed, with enough room to lie back if he needed it. Toga helped him tug his shirt off before removing her own. He stretched his legs out and leaned back against her as Kurogiri untied his boots and slid them off. The soft press of Toga’s flesh against his sent a pleasant heat through his body, dusting his chest and cheeks in a light pink blush.

Kurogiri leaned in and kissed Toga over his shoulder. Izuku whined softly as they languished in each other’s warmth. Toga’s loose grip on his chest tightened as she leaned into the kiss and moaned softly next to his ear.

When they broke apart, Kurogiri nuzzled his neck, inhaling deeply. He licked Izuku’s pulse point teasingly before he slid down Izuku’s body, trailing kisses as he went. Finally, he was sitting at the foot of the bed facing them. He caressed the tips of Izuku’s toes, then ran his finger down the top of each.

“Distal, middle, and proximal phalanges,” Izuku recited dutifully, if a little breathlessly.

While Toga massaged and groped his chest and arms, Kurogiri ran his thumb over the muscles on the top of his foot, applying enough pressure that the boy could feel the shape of each.

“Adductor hallucis, flexor hallucis brevis, flexor minimi brevis.” Izuku spread, flexed, and wiggled his toes while keeping his ankle still. “The first through fifth metatarsal bones.”

Kurogiri ran his finger down the bones in his foot. He continued this for the rest of the bones and muscles in Izuku’s feet, followed by him flexing and rotating his ankles. Kurogiri moved up the leg, rubbing each part as Izuku named them. His hands, arms, and head were given the same treatment.

“Open,” Kurogiri commanded when he reached the jaw. When Izuku obeyed, he traced his bottom teeth with his finger.

“Incisors, canines, premolars, and molars,” Izuku recited when he removed his hand. They repeated this for the top, and then Kurogiri pressed his thumb against Izuku’s tongue. Izuku couldn’t help it. He wrapped his lips around the intruding digit and sucked. With a cheeky grin, he said, “Tongue,” as Kurogiri pulled back.

“Naughty boy,” he replied warmly. “Try not to get too distracted. Turn over.”

The same treatment was given to his back as he nuzzled Toga’s chest. Kurogiri’s fingers ghosted over his skin as Izuku listed the major arteries and veins. The gentle caresses from the heart out to each limb and back soothed and tickled in equal measure.

Then Kurogiri had Izuku kneel on the foot of the bed, his shadow falling on the comforter in front of him. He slowly ran his hands over the shadow, reveling in Izuku’s reactions. His body tensed in anticipation of each touch, and he arched into even the slightest contact.

Toga began mirroring the touches while softly whispering in his ear. “We’ll make you feel so good, baby, just relax.” Her hand dipped below his waistband.

“Ah, Koi.”

“Shh~. It's okay,” she cooed. Her fingers wrapped around him, and she began stroking him slowly.

Kurogiri groaned. He leaned down and rubbed his face along the edge of Izuku’s shadow. “The things you two do to me.” He laid gentle kisses against the ethereal appendage. His strong hands smoothing the comforter caused Izuku to moan. “You like this? Do you want me to touch you here?” He caressed the shadow in broad strokes.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Izuku hissed out. He struggled to keep his hands to himself, to stay pliant for them. “Please.”

“Please what?” he all but purred.

“Touch me.”

“I am,” he balled his hands into fists against the comforter; tangling his mist and fingers in Izuku’s shadow, “every bit of you.”

Izuku gave a soft whimper, and his shadow coiled around Kurogiri.

“Mmm. No, love, lay flat. Be good for me.”

He made an inarticulate and half-hearted protest before returning his shadow to human form on the bed.

“There’s something I want to do,” Kurogiri said, “if you’ll allow it.”

Izuku nodded mutely, not trusting his lust-laced voice.

Accepting the silent consent, Kurogiri shucked his clothes and clambered onto the bed. Straddling Izuku’s shadow, he rubbed against the comforter. He moaned as he took in the sight of Toga languidly stroking their lover. “You’re both so beautiful like this.”

Izuku was flushed. His skin glistened with sweat. His breath came in shallow gasps. Toga licked his neck, laying the occasional kiss on his jugular. 

“Such lovely pets. So good to me.” He began rutting against the comforter.

“God, that’s so hot.” Izuku coiled his shadow around him, again. “I love the way you feel.”

“Mmm, yes. Fuck. Tighter.”

“You’re injured,” Izuku reminded him breathlessly.

Kurogiri groaned. “You would remember that, Love.” He leaned forward and kissed him. Almost a chaste peck at first, it quickly deepened until they were just moaning into each other’s mouths and grinding against each other; Toga’s hands wrapped firmly around them both.

“That’s it, cum for me, boys,” she purred. “Hearing you groan, moan, and shout when you cum is so fucking good.”

When they parted to gasp for air, Kurogiri tensed and wrapped his arms around the pair. Hot cum splattered their stomachs and oozed over Toga’s hands. She continued to hold them until Izuku came as well. She cooed in his ear as she brought her sticky fingers to his lips.

Izuku opened his mouth obediently. The slightly bitter flavor made him scrunch his nose, but the heated look in Kurogiri’s eyes made it worth it.

“I love you both so much. You’re so good to me.” He lapped at the back of Toga’s hand.  “You taste so fucking good.”

Izuku lay his head against Toga’s shoulder, panting. “Your turn.” His shadow remained coiled around them. It slid like silk against their sweat-dampened skin.

“In a minute, you two rest first,” she replied. “I’m enjoying the sight.”

Kurogiri draped himself over the pair, rutting minutely in their mutual mess. “I do need a bit of time to recover.”

 

Spinner stumbled slightly as he exited the warp gate. Magne was close behind him. Both looked exhausted. He slumped down on a crate. 

“So, what did we learn?” Tomura asked.

“I hate Stain,” Magne said.

“Glad to hear it,” Tomura replied with a nod. “But did we learn anything useful from him?”

Spinner gave a piteous moan, and Magne patted his shoulder. “No,” she said. “He pays hackers, former coworkers, exes, and the like for dirt. Man throws around money so freely, I’m surprised the cops haven’t been able to track it.”

“He uses cash,” Spinner muttered into the lid of the crate.

“Yeah, he funds his investigations with cash only, murder for hire. And that’s it. He doesn’t hire the same hackers or private investigators more than once. He runs three or more investigations at once, watches each of his targets for a few days, and then goes on a killing spree.”

“So, not as thorough as Stray thought.” Tomura shrugged. “Perfect. I don’t have to waste resources on him anymore. We’ll just throw money and a list of heroes at him, and let him take care of it.”

“He doesn’t want to kill Beast Tamer,” Spinner said sullenly.

“Aw.” Tomura patted him on the shoulder, careful to keep his pinkie up. “Too fucking bad. He works for us, he’ll do as he’s told. Unless you want to do it, personally. Anyway, wanna play some League of Legends with me?”

“Don’t you wanna play with Stray?” Spinner replied with a frown. He mulled over Tomura’s offer. Even Stain was a glory hound in the end, but Tomura… All he wanted was to chill with his friends and play video games. Still, he was dedicated to changing the world.

“He doesn’t like competitive games. Which is a filthy lie because he fucking loves Mario Party.” Tomura let out a ‘harrumph’ noise. “You’re more of a hardcore gamer than he is. He’s good for RTS and RPGs, but he doesn’t play MMOs.”

“Okay,” Spinner finally agreed. He heaved himself up as Tomura signaled Kurogiri to open a gate to the apartment. “I don’t know that I can kill Beast Tamer, but I want to try.”

“All right. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“It’s nice to actually learn something about him,” Magne said, following them through to the couch, “even if it’s just his gaming preferences. We don’t really know anything about him, seeing as it was mostly Koi we saw.”

“I suppose that’s valid,” Tomura replied, pulling a laptop down from his shelf. He passed it to Spinner.  

“You suppose?” Magne arched her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I could be a hard ass and tell you that you don’t need to know, but,” he shrugged, “that’s not really the vibe we’re cultivating. I know the long-term solution is to clock time with him, but in the short-term, I guess I could fill in some blanks.”

“And you won’t lie?” she asked, watching as the Spinner booted up the laptop.

“Nah, if I can’t or don’t want to tell you something, I’ll just say so. Lying destroys trust.”

“Why does he keep his mask on around us?”

Tomura shrugged as he used a wireless mouse and keyboard to navigate to the game on the computer tucked next to the TV. “Same reason you’re asking these questions, you haven’t built up any trust yet.”

“How long have you known him?”

“Let’s see, it's August now, so,” he did some counting on his fingers, “a year and a half.”

“That’s not very long.”

“Known you for like six weeks. Stray has pretty much logged eight to twelve hours a day every day with us since we met.”

“Fair point. What makes you trust him so much?”

“I mean, the time for one thing. But really, you mean did I field test him the way I did with you guys? Not really. He’s done a number of jobs for me. I had the luxury of getting to know him slowly.”

“So his word is enough to put me in charge of a project?”

Tomura chuckled. “Nah. I listen to his advice, sure, but I had you slotted for leadership from day one.”

“Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You’ve clocked the most field time, everyone likes and respects you, and you’re not full of yourself. Heck, the real test for you was the stealth, research, and public relations portions. I knew combat would be a lock for you.”

“Stop,” she said playfully. “It’s enough to make a girl blush.”

“Get used to it.” He turned to Spinner, “What’s your summoner name? I’ll add you.”

“Not connected,” Spinner said with a rueful smile.

Tomura tapped it in surprisingly quickly

“I have a question, not about Stray.”

“Shoot.” Tomura surprised them by choosing an older support character.

“How did you get the I-island DSR?”

He smirked. “What do you think Stray has been doing all summer?”

“You sent him to I-island?” Spinner asked dumbly, while Magne sputtered, “How did he get passed security?”

“Walked,” he replied nonchalantly. “Maybe if you’re good, I’ll send him back to pick up more; Christmas or next summer.”

Magne chuckled and shook her head. “What is your life?”

“It is charmed,” he agreed. “Welcome to the show.”

Chapter 104: Summer Reading

“Oh, Izuku,” his mother called as he came through the door, and it hit him like a ton of bricks.

“I’m so sorry I forgot to text! Shit, I hope you weren’t worried. I’m sorry, I was just so excited to see everyone,” he babbled.

Inko nodded. “It’s okay. But you will have to do lines. I don’t want to let it slide and fall back into old habits. We both need to do better.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s fair.”

“So, do you think you’ll be up to visiting the Bakugos tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I think we should hold off on giving him the DSR until his hands are fully healed.”

Izuku froze. “I didn’t get him one.” He hoped she didn’t think one of the pair slated for Ariyama and Asuka was for him.

“I’m aware. I picked up one for him while I was getting my phone case. They had an orange one in stock. I know things between you two are …complicated, but I don’t want you to regret leaving him out of this.”

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed, already regretting not buying one for Bakugo. It was true that he had mixed feelings about their friendship, but he needed to keep up appearances, especially in light of Bakugo’s injuries. “Thanks. How, uh, do you know how he’s doing?”

“He required minor surgery, but they have high hopes that he’ll recover fully with minimal scarring. They need to monitor his progress closely, so he can’t be rapidly healed; he can’t start physical therapy yet. They should know if he’ll be able to use his quirk in a few weeks.”

Izuku paled a little. He hadn’t known how severe Bakugo’s injuries were. “Oh. Shit, I shouldn’t have called him a whiny bitch.”

Inko nodded. “No, you shouldn’t have. Maybe you could write him a nice letter of apology.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, first stretches, then breakfast.”

“And after I’ll text you my first apology. It’s short, but I think it meets the criteria you set.” 

“Good job, sweetie. I’m glad you’re taking this seriously.”

Izuku smiled and blushed lightly. It was such simple praise, and it was for completing a punishment, but he felt warm nonetheless.

 

Bakugo had been home for almost two weeks, and it had been pure hell. He was ready to give up. He could barely eat or drink anything without help. He couldn’t dress himself, and climbing the stairs to his room was a nightmare. He couldn’t even go to the bathroom by himself. His bandages needed to be changed every day and anytime they got wet.

He was supposed to be resting. He’d told his parents that he was taking a nap, but really, he just didn’t want to be bothered. They were fussing so much. His dad made breakfast every morning and changed his bandages. The hag had even told him that she was scared of losing him.

And that was more painful than her telling him this happened because he was weak. He knew that was her way of telling him to keep working hard and do better. This… meant that she thought he wasn’t good enough to face these villains, and he never would be.

Silent tears streaked down his face, staining his pillow. …if you didn’t whine like a little bitch every time shit didn’t come naturally to you, Izuku’s words echoed in his head. I’ll bet it’ll be nice to not be the big fish in the little pond anymore. He fought back a sob as All Might’s words mocked him, Doing your best is more important than being the best.

He could be a hero without a quirk. He could. He just didn’t want to.

 

Tomura finally woke up from his nap. He glanced warily around his sparsely decorated room. Not seeing anything out of place, he sat up and stretched. His shelves were filled with a rotating supply of textbooks that Sensei expected him to both notice and read. He kept his desk free of clutter; everything was put away neatly in the drawers. The walls were as barren as when he was first placed here. This was a space for sleeping and studying, not distractions.

Tomura padded out into the living room to find Kurogiri. He wasn’t there, but it was clear he’d be back soon. The summer decorations box was out, and several bouquets of sunflowers were on the table. A garland of lavender, rosemary, and thyme was waiting to be strung up in the kitchen, and there were new origami butterflies to replace some that were worn out.

He booted up his DSR and frowned at his friend requests. He had expected the one from Yagi. He did not expect six from Stray’s classmates, nor two more from his teachers. Tomura had readily accepted the one from Eraserhead; it came with a super-rare native fruit for Animal Crossing, after all. The others, he wasn’t so sure about.

He wouldn’t be able to use his mic with them, and while he could get away with it for occasional games with Yagi, it would start to look suspicious after a while. 

“Tomura,” Kurogiri called as he came down the stairs. “Ah, you are up. I see you’ve checked the friend requests. I’m not sure what to do about them. I understand that the teachers are trying to keep in touch with Stray’s contacts, but the other students…”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that too. I’m going to accept, I think it’ll look less suspicious if we’re not isolating him. But we’ll need some way to talk on these things without risking them recognizing our voices.”

Toga looked up from painting her toes and stared blankly at Tomura for a moment.  “You know, there are like a dozen plus voice-changing apps in the DSR shop, right?  Not to mention the accessibility features for audio. Live Edit has most of what we’d need for free. It reduces background noise, raises or lowers the pitch, adjusts tone, and adds tons of different effects.”

“You’ve played around with it already?”

“Yeah, well, we only have so much of Kuu’s blood; the occasional phone call should work to keep in touch with Inko-san so we don’t worry her.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Hiki,” Kurogiri said, navigating to the app store. They spent a few hours adjusting the voice on his DSR to get it perfect.

 

“Ha! I’m in!” Hizashi crowed. He was sitting incorrectly in his office chair, his head bumped against Shota’s shoulder as he bounced his legs. “Toki accepted my friend request.”

“Good.”

“Mine too,” Nemuri said, looking up from the purple DSR Yagi had given her. “From the looks of it, he’s just blanket-accepting anyone associated with Yuuei.”

“With Izuku, actually,” Shota corrected idly.

“I still don’t get why you want to play games with these people,” Vlad King muttered, staring at the settings menu on his glossy red DSR. 

“To learn more about them,” Nezu piped up. His DSR was white with orange trim. ”One of our students spends eight unsupervised hours with them. I need as much information as I can get.”

“I feel like you’re up to something, but I’m going to exercise the good sense to not get too involved,” Vlad replied.

Nezu had his phone open next to him, a suspicious behavior for the mouse-bear-dog to begin with, paused midway through the latest League TikTok.

Stray was staring straight into the camera, looking very ominous. Anyone looking at the still image would think he was making a threat or some grandiose statement about the nature of society. But no, he was reciting an adorable meme, “Um, where’s my treat? Cuz I’ve done like six hard things today and not one person has put a snickety-snack into my little raccoon hands. I’d like some cheese, please.”

The voice modulator he used made his voice tinny, echoing, and deeper. The effect was like a stormtrooper trying to sing bass.

Nezu copied the video as a treat for his unwitting undercover operative. He flexed his paws at the camera. His teachers tried desperately to keep from giggling and cooing in the background. 

Shota turned his attention to his ever-growing contacts list. Stray, Kuu, Toki, and Hiki had all friended him. He gave a slight shudder at the thought that of the four, only Tomura hadn’t played a part in his assault at the club.

Additionally, most of his fellow teachers had also received DSRs from Yagi. Just him and Hizashi at first, but now Midnight, Vlad, Nezu, Snipe, Cementoss, Hound Dog, Ectoplasm, and Power Loader as well. He didn’t like including them while leaving them out of the loop. It was dangerous, plus he hated not being able to tell them what to look out for.

Not to mention that more than half of his class now had DSRs. He could, at least, listen in on his students chatting with each other since they were using his “Extra Lessons” Mii Room as a group chat. He had decorated it like a classroom and placed several yellow sleeping bags around. The sound was set to ‘immersive,’ where it lowered the volume of people and events that were farther away from your avatar.  

He had stationed himself in the sleeping bag that was in a sunbeam next to Izuku’s desk and muted his mic. Half the group was competing in a Smash Bros. tournament, while the other half was completing their summer homework. 

“Loser does the next section of the reading?” Izuku asked. Oddly, his Mii was similar to his Animal Crossing character, a green cat with fluffy hair. He was dressed in a black hoodie and ‘ninja’ pants.

Kaminari hesitantly agreed to the small wager. “I guess I’m pretty good at fighting games. Smash Bros. isn’t my favorite, but it's okay.” He moved his avatar next to Izuku’s. Like most of the class, his Mii avatar was as close a representation of himself as he could create. He even had a little hair clip that matched the black lightning bolt in his hair.

“Please,” Shinso said dismissively, “he mains Ganondorf. You’ve got this, Denki.” His Mii was like Izuku’s, except purple and with spiky hair. He matched his typically blank expression perfectly. 

“Uh, okay,” Kaminari replied. He took a moment to select his character: the ‘Pokémon Trainer’. “I can do this.”

“I main Daisy, I play Ganondorf so you guys have a shot at winning,” Izuku said, a smirk evident in his voice. 

“Why?” Kaminari asked, starting a combo that would send his opponent off the platform if it was successful. 

“Why Daisy, or why let you win?” Izuku asked as he broke Kaminari’s combo and proceeded to land a few hits of his own. 

“Why Daisy?” he clarified.

“Because mom is Peach and Toki is Rosalina,” he replied as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Toki?” Kaminari asked. 

“My competitive friend,” Izuku replied. 

“Oh!” Kaminari exclaimed. “The one you got the custom colors for.”

“Yeah.”

“What did you go with? Does he like it?”

“Yep.” Izuku hesitated. “The, ah, competitive red.” He lied about the color. Why would he lie about something so simple? Shota made a mental note to bring it up to Nezu later.

“Cool,” he replied.  “Glad my advice was helpful.” 

“I thought you found out you were going at the last minute,” Todoroki said from the homework group. Shota couldn’t help but grin as the interrogation began. Hero students were always inquisitive. His Mii had solid white hair and plain black eyes, but his clothing was bisected in navy and green. He filed that information away to discuss with Ryo later.

“Yeah,” Izuku replied slowly. He was definitely stalling.  “And when I texted him, I was going – as I did with you – he said to bring him back a DSR. The I-island ones aren’t region-locked.” Now that was a good lie. It might even be mostly true.

“Aren’t they expensive, though?” Uraraka asked. Her Mii was set to automatically display emojis and was currently expressing shock.

“Absolutely, but Toki paid me back for his.”

“Hang on,” Shinso said. “Let me do some math.”

“No!” Izuku cried out. His panic was almost amusing. “Do not do the math!”

While the collective laughed, Shinso listed off, “Toki, me, Mei, your mom, yourself, that’s at least five of these beasts.”

“Damn,” Ashido said, “You’re dropping Yaomomo money.”

“I’m not, really.”

“Eight,” Tokoyami said.

“Hey,” Izuku objected. “Yagi-san helped with the costs. I only paid for like four of them.”

“Yagi?”

“Yeah, he’s like All Might’s secretary or something,” Kaminari supplied.

Shota was sure he heard a sigh of relief from Izuku as the subject was changed.

“Oh?” Tokoyami said as if he had gleaned some valuable piece of information from the simple statement. Shota wondered what exactly Izuku had told them.

“It’s not a big deal,” Izuku said pleadingly. The distraction allowed Kaminari to knock him off the platform.

“It is,” Tokoyami countered. 

“Can I play Green-boy next?” Dark Shadow asked.

Noting that the quirk had its own DSR, Shota was actually glad that Izuku had beaten them to Tokoyami and Shoji. They would have left the shadow bird out. Izuku was undeniably fond of him. His Mii avatar was a recolored version of Tokoyami’s; his body and crow-like head were dark purple instead of black, and his eyes were yellow.

“Yeah, after he reads the next section,” Kaminari replied, as the timer ticked down to zero, scoring him the victory over Izuku. 

“I feel I was tricked somehow,” Izuku grumbled before he rustled some papers and asked, “Which section were we on?”

“The fourth one,” Yaoyorozu informed him. “How did you afford that? No offense, but my understanding is that you’re in the same tax bracket as Kaminari.”

“Yeah, basically. And I got the DSRs the same way he got his, with money from a part-time job.”

“It must pay very well,” Uraraka commented, a slight blush came over her Mii. Shota assumed it was supposed to represent being impressed.

“Industry standard,” he replied. Shota could almost hear him shrugging his shoulders.

It was a bit eye-opening when his students then questioned, “What industry?” They hadn’t even covered investigation techniques outside of the extra lessons, and still, his students threw off the redirect with ease. He’d be proud of them if he were in a private space to do so.

Izuku was quiet for a moment and then started reading the next section aloud. 

“No, you don’t get off the hook that easily,” Shinso said. “I’m curious.”

Izuku sighed. “A hybrid kind of personal trainer and tournament fighter. It’s complicated. At first, I helped clean up to pay for training, then they started using me to spare with the paying customers, and after a while, I was able to give pointers and critique.”

There was a pause, and then Yaoyorozu asked, “You make four hundred thousand yen a month?”

“Uh, about that, yeah.” Izuku sounded shocked. Shota was as well. Yaoyorozu had not needed to look that up.

“You spent a month’s salary on game systems,” Kaminari gasped.

“How can he make four hundred thousand in a month?” Uraraka asked.

“He doesn’t sleep,” Shinso explained, “So his part-time job is actually a full-time job.”

“Yep.”

“Aren’t you, I mean, shouldn’t you… How do your parents feel about it?” Uraraka asked.

“Mom wants me to either have fun with it or save it for college.”

Inko was a reasonable and logical woman, even if she was emotional.

“It’s around four-point-eight million yen a year,” Kaminari pointed out. “He can afford to be a little frivolous.” 

And you can calculate that in your head, Shota thought, a grin slipping onto his lips. 

“That’s like a full year’s tuition,” Uraraka said. “That’s insane.”

“How long have you had this job?” Shoji asked.

“Oh, uh… since the coma, so… almost a year and a half.”

“Coma?” Asui croaked.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I thought everyone knew about that by now. So, the short version is I fell six stories into a coma. It’s okay, though, a tree broke most of my fall.”

“And the long version?”

“Locked behind a paywall,” Izuku said, half-jokingly.

“Come on, we’re your friends,” Ashido said.

“If that were true, you’d already know about the coma,” Shinso said. “Drop it.”

“Gee, fine.”

“You have four-point-eight million yen?” Uraraka asked incredulously.

Shota noted that if he didn’t get into it, the amount would be closer to seven million.

“I guess. I mean, it’s a direct deposit, and I don’t usually spend that much; my phone, some snacks, and coffee now and then. So, yeah, about that. Maybe a bit more, I’ve done fairly well in the tournaments I’ve been in, and I’ve gotten a bonus or two.”

“You don’t keep track of your money?” Yaoyorozu asked, her tone scandalized.

“Not really.” Shota could hear another shrug in his casual tone.

“You should.” She paused. “And possibly look into investing some of it.”

“That’s a good idea,” Izuku replied slowly. “I will.”

Shota could tell the thought had genuinely not occurred to the boy before. Investing would give him a degree of financial independence, lessening his reliance on the League of Villains, and more importantly, their mysterious patron. 

Dark Shadow made a frustrated noise. “Read now?”

“Yeah, of course, sorry. You wanna try the next section?”

“I want to play Smash with Green-boy.” 

“Would you be willing to try a section after that?”

“After three rounds.”

Izuku chuckled. “Okay, okay. But after that, I have to bail, Mom and I are watching a Drama together.”

Distantly, they could hear Inko in the background of his mic, “Do any of your friends want to play Mario Party with us later? It’s just you, me, and Toki, so up to five of them could play with us.”

“Uh,” even in that one syllable, Shota could hear the sheer terror that gripped his student. “We should check with Toki first. I don’t want to surprise or overwhelm him. He doesn’t like new people.”

“That’s weird,” Yaoyorozu said, “He, Hiki, and Kuu friended most of us.”

“Animal Crossing. To collect fruit faster. You should see his town. Just mind the signs; he put a lot of work into it.”

Shota was himself, gripped with pure terror for a few tense heartbeats. “Hey, Yagi? How do we check someone else’s friend list?”

“Just go to their profile,” he replied wearily. He had been explaining the ins and outs of the system all morning.

After navigating through his students' profiles, he sighed. “Toki has friended most of my students. Fuck.”

Hizashi glanced at Nemuri, who was eyeing him with furrowed brows, and said, “I’m sure nothing will come of it, except too many hours playing games.”

Shota rapped his knuckles against the desk.

“It’s laminate,” Nezu pointed out.

Shota rapped his knuckles against the top of Hizashi’s head.

“Ow, and hey!”

“Don’t say stupid things then.”

“You’re not superstitious.”

“Best not to invite trouble.” He kissed the crown of Hizashi’s head. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

 

Dread pooled like lead in the pit of his stomach as the world was painted in the muted colors he had become familiar with in lowlight areas, despite the bright and sunny day. He fought to keep his feet from dragging as they were led up the walk by Mitsuki.

How did the world keep turning? How could he let this happen? What could he do to stop it? Was saving Tomura worth it? Izuku took a deep, steadying breath. At least he knew the answer to that question. Yes. Saving Tomura was worth losing Bakugo. The villain far outweighed the hero student in his estimation. Bakugo’s success just meant that a flashy, powerful, destructive quirk was all it took to be a hero. Tomura’s redemption would mean changing the world. Still, he couldn’t help the weight on his shoulders or the cold lead in his gut.

“Thanks for coming over. Katsuki could use the company. He’s been sulking all day. Well, since he was released from the hospital, really.” She opened the door and they filed in. “I hope that seeing Izu-kun lifts his spirits.”

“He should talk to Inui-sensei,” Izuku offered. He knew Toga had injured Bakugo but Izuku felt responsible because she’d only targeted him because he had bullied Izuku. It was sweet in a psychotic sort of way, but that he thought that just compounded the issue.

“I don’t need therapy,” Bakugo growled from the living room couch. He was wearing a worn University of California sweatshirt and track pants. If it weren’t for the anger in his eyes, they would have been dull and lifeless. 

“Here,” Izuku said, shoving a thin envelope at him.

Bakugo took it, somewhat hesitantly and awkwardly, in his still bandaged hands. “What’s this?”

“I’m sorry I was so callous at the hospital.”

“I’m not weak,” he snapped, throwing the envelope back at him.

Izuku blinked at him like he’d skipped some line of dialogue. “I know?”

“Then why are you apologizing?”

“It’s the right, socially acceptable thing to do.”

“You don’t think I can be a hero now,” he snarled.

Izuku shook his head. A warm smile slipped onto his lips, thinking of the comfort, rough though it may have been, given to him by Kurogiri and Tomura nearly a year ago. He activated Yagi’s quirk. “Of course, you can. Do you think heroes never get injured? That they can’t do good once they have been?” He shook his head. “Giving up means you’re weak. Giving yourself time to heal? Learning to be less reliant on your quirk? Those are some of the hardest things you’ll ever do. Get better and come at me with everything you’ve got.”

Come back to me. Izuku mentally kicked himself. He had meant ‘come stand by his side as a hero’, he said ‘come at my villain persona’, and from the gleam in Bakugo’s eye, he had taken it to mean ‘be my rival’. Hopefully. 

“Oh, I will, Deku. I’ll make you regret ever doubting me.”

“Mmm. I don’t doubt you, but whatever you need to keep you going, Kacchan.”

“Fuck you.”

“Do not.” Izuku chuckled. “Alabama noises over here.”

“Shut up, Deku.”

“No.”

“I’m going to strangle you.”

“Kinky.”

“Gah!”

“Anyway. Since you’re already in workout clothes, we should go for a run.”

“I can’t work out.” He gestured with his bandaged hands.

“Sure, you can’t lift weights or spar. And parkour is right out. But your legs still work. Get up.” He lightly kicked Bakugo’s bare foot. “I’ll tie your shoes for you.”

“No.”

“Then Auntie Mitsuki can tie them.”

“I said no.”

“Fine, sit and rot. Let all that conditioning go to waste.” Izuku paused. “Wait, no. I have super strength, and you can’t defend yourself.” He grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled Bakugo to his feet.

Bakugo hit him with an elbow strike. “I’m not defenseless, asshole.”

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki snapped.

Izuku let go and pressed his hand to his nose. “Motherfucker.”

“Now who’s the one making Alabama noises, bitch?” Bakugo snickered.

Izuku grinned. “There’s my Kacchan.” He pulled him into a hug. “Hee. At least I won’t have to hit you this time.”

“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly. 

“Nah. I intentionally provoked you,” Izuku said dismissively. 

Bakugo looked at him through his lashes, a tiny spark of hope in his eyes. “Still up for a run?”

“Yeah. Then we can drill you on strikes, that was weak as fuck.”

“Boys,” Inko said desperately, “language.”

“Sorry,” they both replied and gave her a shallow bow.

“How do you get them to behave so easily?” Mitsuki asked in awe.

“Oh, that?” Inko replied with a hint of mischief in her voice. “They’re at that age where ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ is the worst-case. Not getting angry can be difficult at times, but it’s effective.”

“Unfortunately, I wear my emotions on my sleeve.”

“Oh, you and me both, Mitsuki. Timeouts are just as much for you to calm down as for them.”

Mitsuki laughed. “Yeah, that hasn’t worked for us since Katsuki-kun was two.”

The volatile blond scowled at the pair as Izuku tied his shoes.

“Bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by a tree~,” Izuku murmured. “Crisscrossed the tree trying to catch me.”

“I will kick you if you don’t stop that.”

“Duly noted.” After a brief pause, he continued, “Bunny ears, bunny ears, jumped in a hole, popped out the other side, beautiful and bold.~ Ow.”

It is alright.

Notes:

I'm very sad. I might kill off some characters. Suggestions are welcome (especially if they come with an explanation of either why you'd kill them off or how you think it would effect this story). I still have 20 chapters of buffer, so results are a ways off.

*The rest of this note is sad. It's not really about the fic, so you can skip it. I just needed to write it.*

Had to put my cat (m14, orange tabby) down today. His name was Razzamataz (Taz for short).

My folks rescued him from some meth heads they let live in their driveway for a while. The bastards had pulled all his whickers out (thankfully, they grew back). One time (shortly after the meth heads left), he got himself stuck in a tree, and dad had to get up on a ladder to get him down, when he was leaving for a Chemo appointment. Taz was very cuddly, but did not understand how to play. He was an excellent hunter. He used to catch hummingbirds and let them loose in the house. When he got too old to catch those, he switched to rabbits. He had a habit of overeating kibble and throwing up. He was allergic to flea medicine. He was very talkative and would meow and head butt you until he was given treats. He loved turkey and pork, and would literally climb into the fridge for turkey (like cheese tax, every time the fridge is open, if there was turkey, you had to give him some).

He went blind at the start of this summer. We stopped letting him out side (much to his dismay), and took him to the vet. (They said he would navigate by feeling the wall with his whiskers, he still walked right in front of us, and climbed up on things to sleep). He had high blood pressure (which is the direct cause of the blindness), but not the thyroid problems that usually cause the high blood pressure. Everything else was fine, they said. They never sent the medication to our pharmacy and he started having trouble urinating. We took him back to the vet. There weren't a lot of options, and we didn't want him to suffer.

ᓚᘏᗢ ♡

Chapter 105: Forging Links

Izuku spent most of the night alternating between sparring with the League and watching sniper videos on YouTube. He scribbled down a loose list of lessons to plan: marksmanship, range estimation, target detection, stalks, hides, and other field craft. Wind, temperature, humidity, range, weight, and velocity of the rounds, and the target’s movements would all need to be factored in. Plus, most snipers operated in pairs.

As much as Tomura told him that the field craft portion could be skipped to save time, it was the part that Izuku and Toga could teach. The brutality of the ‘ghillie wash’ interested him. That could be easily mixed in with the stealth techniques. Range estimation and target detection were mostly observations and would serve them all well.

Looking for target indicators such as shine, shape, texture, and contrast against the background environment, learning to scan from bottom to top and right to left instead of top to bottom and left to right would give them an advantage on any stealth mission. 

“I think we should start with paintball guns.”

Mustard sneered at him. “Why?”

“Because, until we get a hold of an actual instructor, the best I can do is cover the stealth aspects. Ghillie suits, stalking, and making a sniper’s nest. It’s a lot of crawling and recon.”

“Aren’t we going to work in urban environments?”

“Yeah, but this is still a big part of the training. It’s grueling, so I understand if you don’t want to learn it. This is the hard part of sniping. Koi and I can teach you. We’d be bumbling through marksmanship. Actually, I want you to teach us what you know in that regard.”

“What are you planning?” Tomura asked.

“Cross-training. Specking everyone into ninja and sniper classes; both high difficulty and surprisingly versatile. Snipers are more scouts than ranged attackers. Even if we’d wash out of a real program, the skills are valuable.” 

“But it’s going to suck.”

“Yep.”

“How do we start?”

“Two-man teams with paintball guns, popping each other in the woods.”

“Absolutely not,” Tomura said. “You and Koi are the only ones with stealth training. You’d just team up and frag the rest of us.”

“Yeah,” Izuku admitted. “That’s the first lesson. It’s been like pulling teeth to get anyone to take this seriously.”

Tomura nodded. “Okay. Here’s the plan: We’ve got basic stealth, shooting, hand-to-hand, conditioning, first aid, bushcraft, and parkour,” he listed off on his fingers, “That’s seven things. Eight hours of training, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. An hour of conditioning, a ten-minute break, fifty minutes on stealth, a twenty-minute break, forty minutes on field craft, a thirty-minute break, thirty minutes for firearms training, a forty-minute break, twenty minutes of sparing, a fifty-minute break, ten minutes for first aid, an hour break, and an hour parkour.”

“That seems terribly lax,” Compress said, cautiously. 

“It won’t feel like it in the moment,” Tomura replied with a grin. "Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday will be dedicated to earning revenue and social media. Working the Blush gang, making plushies, running an OnlyFans, I don’t care what.”

“Okay,” Izuku agreed. “Conditioning starts now, stretching, and a run.”

“How long of a run?”

“I’ll start you with thirty minutes, then we’ll cover some footwork.”

 

Yagi steadfastly ignored it when he heard Shota lean against the guest room doorframe as he scoured the internet for a bed large enough to accommodate him. He was just a tiny bit miffed at David for spoiling him.

“Did it hurt?” the younger man asked huskily.

Yagi rolled his eyes. “When I fell from heaven?”

“No,” he could hear the smirk in his voice, “when you fell from the vending machine.”

“I don’t, I don’t understand.”

“Because you’re a whole snack.”

“Oh, my god, Aizawa-kun.” Yagi shook his head.

Shota set a small plate of food and a glass of water next to him. “This is a reminder that you’re doing a very, very good job. Keep it up, Sweetheart.”

“Please stop flirting with me.”

“I don’t need to flirt. I will seduce you with my awkwardness,” he chuckled.

“I’m trying to find a bed.”

“Good boy,” he praised. “You’re doing such a good job.”

“Stop.”

When he made a shooing motion at Shota, he caught his hand and laced their fingers together. He lifted Yagi’s hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Do you really want me to stop, Yagi… Toshinori?”

“That’s not fair. I need to do this.”

“That’s not an answer.” Shota used his leverage to gently push Yagi back until he was lying on the floor. “That’s a good boy. Just like that.” Shota lay down next to him and pushed Yagi’s loose T-shirt up, ignoring his soft whines and gentle protests. He nuzzled Yagi’s hair and lightly ruffled his bangs before moving on to caress his chest.

“Stop.”

Shota groaned and sat up. “Is that really what you want?” he leaned down and kissed Yagi’s heart. “Hmm?” his fingers danced over the scars littering his skin. “Well?”

“Please.” He covered his face with his hands.

“Please what?” he asked. Shota kissed a trail down his abdomen and nuzzled the mass of scar tissue on his side; still angry and red after all these years. “Toshinori? Please what?” his tongue laved over the spider web of jagged lines centered just a few inches below his left pec. “God. Open your eyes and look at what you’re doing to me, baby.”

Yagi bit his lip and whimpered, but he refused to look. He refused to take in Shota’s lust darkened eyes and tussled hair, the faint blush on his cheeks, or the shine of saliva on his lips. “Please stop.”

Shota paused again, his warm breath ghosting over Yagi’s exposed skin. “Hmm.” He shifted, planted one hand on either side of Yagi, and ran his lips – barely touching, a phantom’s caress – just above his waistband.

Yagi grabbed his wrists. “I said stop,” he repeated firmly.

“Sorry, I …”

He sat up, hauling Shota over his lap as he did. Holding both of his wrists in one massive hand, he delivered a firm swat to Shota’s butt with the other. He wiggled and moaned in response. “You are trying to get a rise out of me. I know you know better than to act like this, Aizawa-kun. What’s wrong?” he raised Shota’s arms until his body was forced to follow, and he was on his knees next to him.

“Uh, self-destructive spirals are a common response to stress and trauma,” he offered, not quite meeting Yagi’s eyes.

“Mm-hmm. My dying is aggravating your abandonment issues?” He released Shota’s arms. “Maybe I shouldn’t move in.”

“What? No. I’m sorry.” He put his hands on Yagi’s shoulders; both to steady himself and to prevent the other man’s retreat. “I can behave.”

Yagi smirked. “You and Yamada both.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been in a relationship before, and I hardly think now is the time.”

“Maybe Zashi and I could be something worth living for?”

“I’m going to die.”

“Go out with a bang then,” he replied harshly. “You deserve to be happy. If this is it, if you’re so fucking sure, then do all the things that terminal patients are normally too sick and weak to enjoy.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Maybe I want to be hurt. Maybe when things are going too well, it scares me and I want to fuck it up.”

“I hardly think things have been going that well this year.” He caressed the scar under Shota’s eye.

“Yeah… um, can we keep this between us?” At Yagi’s furrowed brow, he hastily added, “Not that we fooled around, or that I tried to. Hizashi doesn’t mind that; he’d be thrilled, actually. The uh, back slide. He’s so relieved that the club thing didn’t… fuck me up.”

“But it did?”

“Of course it did,” he snapped. Some of the sting was taken out of it by his straddling Yagi and resting his weight against his chest. Quietly, he confessed, “I keep having dreams about it. Stray – Izuku’s shadow squeezing me, his bare chest pressed up against my back, his hands in my pockets.” He started nuzzling Yagi’s hair as he spoke. “Kurogiri’s tight grip on my wrists, his hand tangled in my hair, sensually unbuttoning my shirt.” He kissed the shell of his ear. “That girl – Koi no Yokan – kissing, biting, and licking me, my neck, my belly button, my scars.” Shota started to grind against him. “The gentle caresses, being pressed against the wall; every seductive, gravely word.” He captured Yagi’s lips.

Instead of pushing him away, Yagi held him. When they broke for air, he tucked Shota’s head beneath his chin and lay down. “You had no idea it was Izuku.”

“I suspected, not that that would make any of this better.”

“You’re not turned on by a student,” Yagi clarified.

“Of course not!”

“Then it’s not the people, it’s the activities,” Yagi surmised. “It’s not uncommon to be aroused during an assault. Your body’s reaction is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Shota tilted his head up and blinked at Yagi. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is,” Yagi said. The alarm on Shota’s phone went off. He sighed. “After my meal.” Yagi sat up again. When Shota tried to get up, he wrapped one long arm around his waist. “No. You stay put. You’re in a time-out.”

“Yagi,” he all but whined.

“And I will be telling Yamada,” he said, grabbing his glass. “Don’t struggle, you’ll spill my food.”

“He’ll be disappointed in me.”

“Yes, but it’s your own fault for not telling him sooner.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“And yet that’s what will disappoint him.”

Shota grumbled, but he stayed put.

 

After finishing his morning workout routine, Shoto met Izuku at his apartment for breakfast; he had brought sausages. His heart fluttered as Izuku greeted him with a little peck on the cheek. Shoto slipped his shoes off and put on the plain white guest slippers. His lips almost quirked up into a smile as Izuku led him down the hall and into the living room, chittering excitedly about the sausages.

Izuku smiled warmly as he took them to the stove and added them to a pan with garlic and onions to sautéed them. Inko stepped smoothly out of his way, taking the soup with her to pour into three little bowls.

“Good morning, Shoto-kun,” she greeted him sweetly.

“Good morning, Midoriya-san,” he replied automatically.

“Would you mind helping me set the table?”

“Sure.” He took the soup to the table and set the chopsticks on their rabbit-shaped ceramic stands while she dished the rice.

Inko began chatting, in vague terms, about the client she’d picked up while they worked. “He’s a sidekick at one of the bigger agencies in town, and I need some angle that’s not going to clash with the agency’s overall image.”

Izuku nodded. “Is he gearing up to strike out on his own?”

 “I don’t think so,” she replied. “He may just be trying to boost his popularity as leverage for a raise or promotion.”

“Makes sense.” He hummed as he plated up the sausage. “What’s his demographic?”

“Same old, same old,” she said, taking a seat, “fifteen to about twenty-five or thirty, mostly male.”

Shoto stayed silent as he watched the exchange. Nothing in his home had ever been that open or casual, not even talking with Fuyumi.

“Tell him to start cooking on his socials,” Izuku suggested. “Just stuff he cooks for himself. Heroes have to eat healthy, but it needs to be quick and easy to prepare. The domestic angle will attract more women, and the health food stuff will get more athletic types.”

Inko smiled warmly at him. “I’m so proud of you. That’s a great idea. He wouldn’t even have to change his habits except to post a little more. I’ll add that to the list.”

Shoto blinked and cocked his head in confusion, but didn’t interrupt.

Izuku ducked his head as a dusting of pink crept across his freckles. “It’s nothing to be impressed by. I only thought about it because I’m cooking more now, and the advice you gave to Toki is paying off. I know you’re just using me as a rubber duck.”

“Izuku, sweetie, I’ve been bouncing ideas off of you since you were a baby; it’s only natural that you’ve picked some things up. I’ve just been taking your skills for granted. I only talked with Toki for a few minutes about his social media; it’s you who put in the work. I am proud of you, and I bet Toki appreciates it as well.”

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Shoto breathed through his nose. He waited until the tightness in his chest passed before opening them.

“Yeah, he does. I’m just not used to all the praise, I guess,” Izuku replied shyly. It helped Shoto to know that even Izuku had some difficulty with his feelings at times. He was usually so free and open, it was a bit unnerving.

Inko nodded. “And I’m sorry about that. You’ve been doing really well, and leaving you to your own devices is not a reward. I should do something to make up for not celebrating your accomplishments more in the past.”

“Please don’t; it’s fine. We-we can just focus on doing better going forward. Right?” he pleaded, as if the idea of her attention was frightful.

“You could take him out to dinner with his friends,” Shoto suggested. His voice was steady and free of unwelcome emotion. Izuku had told him it was just anxiety, that her gentle parenting was appreciated, merely new. “But we should spread them out, like once a month.”

“That’s an excellent idea!” she praised him, turning that same warm smile on Shoto.

His chest was tight again, and he was at a loss for how to respond. Izuku put a comforting hand on his shoulder, grounding him from his budding panic attack. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, mentally cursing himself for letting his distress show. Although maybe Izuku was a special case, because Inko didn’t seem to notice.

She asked, “So, Shoto-kun, what do you like to do for fun?”

He gave her a blank look while he considered the question. He hadn’t been allowed many pastimes or indulgences growing up. He wasn’t allowed to play video games or spend time online, and he didn’t watch TV that often, but he had always enjoyed sneaking books out of his siblings' rooms; it made him feel connected to them. “I like to read,” he paused, “and hang out with Izuku.” He cocked his head and looked distant for a moment. “He’s been showing me how to have fun and just enjoy myself.”

Inko smiled warmly. “I suppose that answers what made you want to spend time with him.”

A soft, fond smile spread across Shoto’s face. “He stood up to my old man without hesitation. He’s nice to everyone, but he can be brutal if he wants.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Izuku said, half-jokingly.

“You made me feel safe,” he replied, turning to face Izuku fully. Having emotions, being angry, sad, or even scared. You made me feel like it was okay, he didn’t say.

“Oh, you do say the sweetest things.” Izuku leaned over and kissed his cheek. 

“Shoto-kun, if you don’t feel safe at home…”

“No, it’s… fine,” he said uncertainly. “It’s a different kind of safe. I don’t know how to explain it.” He leaned over and rested his head on Izuku’s shoulder. 

Inko nodded. “Okay. As long as you’re safe.” They were quiet for a while as they ate, but when Inko got up to take her plate to the sink, she asked, “So what are your plans for the day?”

“We’re going to walk to his place and work out together,” Izuku replied. “We plan on having lunch with Fuyumi, but we’re going to meet up with friends for dinner, and study. Maybe a movie, if we’re feeling ambitious.”

“Sounds good. Make sure you come home before heading to the gym, though. And call me, call, not text, if you’ll be out later than nine.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

  

Hizashi was laughing into his hand as he slid the phone over to Nezu. He had a habit of being on his phone during long meetings, and even though the adjustments to the sex ed. unit were important to him – to all of them – this was, of course, no exception. Nezu simply forwarded the TikTok to himself and plowed on. “Any questions?”

“We already have the most comprehensive sex ed. program of any high school in Japan, why update it? We could just tack on a warning about Blush,” Dokujima said, his voice muffled by his respirator.

Mitsuno nodded his agreement as his fingers slid over his braille copy of the suggested lesson plan.

Nezu hummed. “I see where you’re coming from. Yes, we could do it that way, and add an extra hour to the total unit, spilling into the next week. Or we could permanently expand the drug and consent portions by a few minutes each, and include some examples given by the staff. All Might has already agreed to share with not just the hero course but with the entire student body. I think it’s worth taking advantage of.”

Dokujima glanced over at Mitsuno, who gave a subtle nod. “Fine. I just don’t like changing things midyear.”

“That’s perfectly reasonable, and under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t push it.”

“Going to tell us what these circumstances are?” Mitsuno asked slowly.

Nezu cocked his head in thought. “In three years, less if all goes well.”

The pink-haired hero hummed. “It’s not a statute of limitations, then. Why the delay?”

Nezu smiled. “Not all sensitive matters are legal ones.”

The pair shared a look but nodded their acceptance.

 

The floor was cool and smooth against his bare feet and shadow. Izuku was wearing just a pair of plain, loose-fitting yoga pants in a mellow yellow somewhere between flax and sand, and his burgundy jute bracelet. The contrast between the deep, slightly purple red and his pale skin was as dramatic as it was eye-catching. Steadying as the reminder that he belonged somewhere was, it occasionally reminded him that he didn’t belong here. He fiddled with the knot, idly wondering if he should take it off or stop wearing it every day.

“I’m sorry,” Shoto said, pulling him from his musings.

“Huh?”

“The necklace that you got me was destroyed in the fight with that villain.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.” Izuku grinned. “I can make you another one if you miss it.”

He touched his throat. “Can it be a bracelet? Like yours?”

“Sure. But, uh, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get the same color.”

“That’s fine.” Shoto, wearing a white tank top and black gi pants, began stretching.

“Hey, can we turn on some music?”

“Uh, if you have an iPod, you can use the docking station.” He gestures toward the far corner of the dojo.

“I don’t, but there’s one in here.”

“Must be the old man’s. He might have a decent workout playlist, even if it’s old,” Shoto said with a shrug.

“Yeah, I mean, of course, Endeavor has a workout playlist. I’m more surprised that he’s got anything else on here.” Izuku hit play.

The warm-up song, Marry the Night by Lady Gaga, was an odd choice for Endeavor, but it slapped so Izuku ignored it and started his stretches. The next song was Eye of the Tiger and after that Turn Down for What. Izuku was understandably lulled into a false sense of security. He fell when Lollipop Luxury by Jeffree Star came on.

Shoto quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I did not expect that.” He untangled his feet and kipped up. He was loading weight onto the bar for the bench press when the song changed again. Izuku grinned again. They were in for a wild ride. “This has just become a fun game.”

Endeavor’s music was not what he had expected at all. I Like Boys by Todrick Hall blared as he did a set. He traded with Shoto, who added twenty pounds, as Girls/Girls/Boys started. GUY.exe, Up on Game, and For Your Entertainment were right alongside more typical workout fare like Holding Out For a Hero, Play That Funky Music, and The Hustle.

When MONTERO by Lil Nas X came on, Izuku had to stop. “That… he. No.” He shook his head.

“It’s surprisingly good,” Shoto said.

“That’s not it. I… No. Excuse me.” He stepped out of the dojo and headed toward Endeavor’s home office. Shoto followed. He threw open the office door, paused just long enough to make sure Endeavor wasn’t on the phone. “The Flame hero? The Flame hero?! Really!?”

“Do not shout at me in my own home,” Endeavor snapped. He glared at him.

“You’re not even trying to hide it.” Izuku’s eyes went wide as he realized, “You’re not even trying to hide it.”

“And yet, no one will believe you,” Endeavor replied softly. He turned back to the paperwork he was working on.

Izuku gaped at the man. “And after what you said to Shoto.”

“It would endanger his career.”

“Is that all you care about?” Shoto asked, stepping around Izuku.

Endeavor furrowed his brow. Remembering his conversation with Inko, he replied, “If you mean: is that my only objection, then yes. If not, then I do want you to be happy and healthy.”

“Does mom know? Does Fuyumi?”

He sighed. “I’m not gay, Shoto. That playlist is mostly recommendations from my sidekicks. It’s very upbeat. It keeps me pumped for a workout. You may wish to turn it down, though, if only because Fuyumi will be home soon. It would be rude to blare it at such volumes with other people in the house.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look, I have paperwork to do. Why don’t you two go work on your homework or something?”

“Dad…” Shoto made an abortive gesture with his hands as he tried to put his thoughts into words.

“Don’t, Shoto. I’m not. Drop it.”

“Mom told me about the prenup, so don’t bother lying. Tell me the truth.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was rebellious at your age, to the point that my father threatened not to pay my tuition anymore. ‘The Flame Hero’ is as much a jab at him as it is an advertisement for a powerful fire quirk. Maybe, just maybe, if I had taken things more seriously in high school, I wouldn’t be stuck in the number two spot.” He looked up at his son. “As far as attraction goes, I’m straight. I mean, I’ve never had much interest in anyone, except to start a family, but I do love your mother, despite everything. I know I’m… I have made mistakes, and all I can do is try to be better going forward. I understand that you need support that I can’t provide for you. I want you to start seeing a therapist.” He waited, shoulders tense, for the inevitable explosion.

The two boys just stared at him for a moment before Shoto said, “I won’t go to your agency therapist.”

“I know. We’ll find someone who works for you.”

Shoto paused. “I like Hound Dog.”

Endeavor nodded. “That’s fine. That works. Just get recommendations from him for when you graduate. I’ll pay whatever fees.”

“Okay.” Shoto nodded. While his face seemed to be his usual blank, disinterested expression, Izuku could tell he was a little shell-shocked.

“Hey, why don’t we start lunch? Give Fuyumi-chan a bit of a break.”

“Yeah,” he agreed dully.

 

David sighed as he stared at the printout in front of him.

“Man,” his new assistant said, “You have got it bad.”

“She’s a married woman, I’ve got nothing.”

“Oh. See, I thought you were still sighing over Toshi’s medical file that you won’t let me see, but now I know you have an actual crush. Spill.” The young man leaned over his desk and rested his chin in both hands.

David bristled. “Drop it.”

“Okay, don’t then,” he stood back up with a frown. “Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, and you worked with Mr. Abraham for like twenty years, so no one can replace him. I’m not trying to. I get that I’m young and you don’t trust me with projects yet, but Professor Shield, you’re required to have an assistant. You can’t do this kind of research alone. That you got that far without even specializing in quirk factor and alpha energy studies is amazing. I can help you refine your ideas.”

David snorted. “I know you’re excited to work on a big project, but one of the reasons they gave me someone so young is that I’m going to be taking it easy for a while, to-to grieve. You’ll have lots of time to work on your own ideas.”

The young man huffed, and then a sly smile spread across his face. “Okay, I hope you have a working knowledge of biochemistry. I’m trying to synthesize an enzyme cocktail that will enhance quirk recovery. Stress, overtraining, and fighting can all lead to quirk damage. Natural healing processes repair the damage over time, just as with bone or tissue. In fact, some enzymes that reduce inflammation and accelerate healing, such as Pancreatin, Papain, Bromelain, Trypsin, and Chymotrypsin, have been shown to aid in quirk recovery as well.”

“Well,” David said slowly, “that does sound promising. Interesting. It sounds interesting. Tell me more.”

                  

While far from the last to arrive, Kaminari was the last to join the group. His hair was dyed a dark green with a purple under dye and half of his face was still bandaged, and Izuku couldn’t help but focus Search on him as he talked to his older brother (the only damage was his burns, and he needed more protein, vitamins D, C, and E, copper, zinc, and selenium). It was sweet how the older boy doted on him before cutting him loose to spend time with his friends.

Izuku excused himself from Shoto, Hatsume, and Shinso to run in and buy a container of mixed nuts; it would take care of the protein and minerals, plus burns needed more calories to heal than other injuries.

Yaoyorozu and Jiro had arrived while he was gone, and the group was discussing shopping, hanging out, and seeing a movie instead of studying, then picking up a late dinner in the food court, as it was the only way to get everyone to agree on where to eat.

Izuku agreed and offered his newly acquired snack around the group. Yaoyorozu and Jiro began guiding Hatsume to a clothing store, and Shoto suggested they look at the ‘villain’ merch store, just to see what was popular. Kaminari looped his arm in Izuku’s and bodily dragged him into a game store under the guise of needing to know what fighting games Toki was into.

“Shouldn’t take long, we’ll meet you there,” he assured them. Once they were safely in the game store and tucked behind a tall shelf near the back, he asked, “Okay, so real talk, how do you do a poly relationship? Does it actually work? Do you think Jiro would be into it?”

“Whoa. Slow down. Why are you asking me?”

“Yaomomo mentioned to Jiro, who told me, you asked her to hook up, well, not hook up, but date you and Shoto. Sorry if you wanted to keep it on the down low.”

Izuku shrugged. “Shoto overheard, and he seems chill with the concept.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I think so, but neither way is better than the other, as long as everybody is upfront about stuff.”

“So like, what are the rules?”

“Whatever you and your partners agree to, really. I mean, open and honest communication is a must. You have to look out for jealousy. It’ll happen, and you have to work through it and not be a dick about it. There’s also a difference between a poly relationship and an open relationship.”

“Which is?”

“In a poly relationship, you long-term date multiple partners, and even if you’re not, say, sleeping with your girlfriend’s boyfriend, you’re still part of the same relationship. Like roommates are part of the same household, even if they’re not dating. In an open relationship, you both have a string of long or short-term side pieces.”

“Okay. That doesn’t seem so complicated.”

“You already want to cheat on me?” Jiro asked harshly as she stepped around the display they were looking at.

“No! Never. I wouldn’t. I swear. I-I was just curious.” Kaminari stammered. A look of shame crossed the exposed half of his face, a clear indication that he was more than just curious.

“Jiro,” Izuku said sternly. The girl turned to him, eyes narrowing. “Are you attracted to Yaoyorozu?”

“What? N-no, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“As a victim of long-term abuse, I’m both hyper-vigilant and attuned to people's emotional states. That means I pay attention, and I know the signs.” Izuku dropped his gaze. He knew dumping his trauma on her like this was manipulative, but he wanted Shoto to have nice things, like a prebuilt support network. “Back in middle school, before my quirk presented, I had to watch out for everyone’s stupid little crushes, because when they got rejected, I got the brunt of it; from little stuff like spider lilies on my desk to being cornered in the hall and beaten to a pulp. Like it was my fault Takashi didn’t return Ito’s feelings, or that Yoshida was already dating Shimizu.” He glanced up to gauge her reaction. He couldn’t help the small smile at her sympathetic expression. “So, I know that Shoto likes Yaoyorozu, and so do you. And Denki is in love with you; he’s just developing a little crush on Shinso after what happened at the training camp. Which is totally understandable. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to explore that without hurting anyone?”

She was silent for a while, but when she answered, he knew he had her. “When my mom was in high school, she was dating this guy. His dad was a violinist in the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra, and his mom was in the Tokyo Embassy Choir. Needless to say, my grandparents pushed the relationship, but Mom was in love with him. He cheated on her. For three years, he convinced her it was just little slip-ups, and it was her fault, especially when they were at university. She finally had the strength to break up with him after meeting my dad. She had a crush on him for a full year before the breakup, but she never cheated. Him either. He had a couple of girlfriends before they were both single, and Mom asked him out. I won’t be involved with a cheater.”

“Good. Now, we can talk about it properly as a group, but in the meantime a couple of things to remember: it’s not cheating if it’s the agreed on arrangement, and it’s not an agreement if you’re forced into it – consent requires that you be fully informed and enthusiastic about the situation – and you can always change your mind, you just gotta let your partner or partners know. No one is making any promises today, and it might not be something you’re into, but that’s okay.”

“Who made you boss?” she asked.

“Oh no,” Izuku shook his head frantically, “not the boss, just the best informed of the group. I have the information to share. One conversation, if you’re not into it, that’s it, we don’t need to discuss it further, thank you for coming to my TED Talk.”

“Alright. When?”

“Well, we’re all here today, I could give the elevator pitch over dinner.”

“In the food court?” Jiro asked in clear disbelief.

“Nah, we can find a more private spot after we get our food. That way, everyone is comfortable being honest.”

“Where?”

“Toro Park’s not far from here, or there’s always the beach.”

“The beach then,” she decided.

 

Nezu was finally alone in his office after a long day of meetings. He shoved the coffee table against the couch and then set his laptop and a pot of tea on it. He grabbed the case files he was planning to go over tonight and pulled a fleece blanket out of his desk drawer. After getting a plate of snacks out of his mini fridge, his nest was complete. Nezu clambered onto the couch and began replying to his emails while nibbling on some cheeses.

After an hour of navigating tedious human etiquette, he opened up TikTok and checked what he had been sent throughout the day. His son-in-law had been sending him ten to twenty short videos each day since he installed the app on his phone. Most of them were without any rhyme or reason beyond entertainment, but occasionally one would be about a social issue or a news story.

The first video was a makeup tutorial about powder dyes for hair and fur, followed by three thirst trap videos and a very impressive All Might cosplayer, then a few music-related ones, and finally the League of Villains TikToks. Seven were just response videos calling for the accounts to be shut down, three were hero cosplayers stitching with them as jokes, and the last was an off-schedule video that proved to be a goldmine.

It opened on a pair of brown dress shoes, filmed from behind. The camera panned up a pair of black slacks to a brown leather belt. The outfit was finished with a crisp white button-up, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a grey vest. Kurogiri was prepping food in what appeared to be a small restaurant-style kitchen.

Tomura’s scratchy whisper came over the footage in a serious tone. “This is Reginald. He’s a purebred Doberman Habersham. He cost two thousand dollars, and we were on a waiting list for two years to get him.”

The video cut to Stray and Koi, both in loose T-shirts and sweatpants, knife-fighting in a bar. Stray was having more difficulty in the tight space than she was. He knocked into the table, the bar, and the wall in the short clip. Tomura had put in an annotation that claimed the knives were props.

“These are my babies, Chuncko and Fuckass. I found them in a dumpster, and I love them more than life itself.”

Nezu jotted down the new information he gathered from the video: the likely neighborhood in Tokyo, some insight into how Tomura felt about those three, and narrowing down the number of actual trainers Izuku had to just this inner circle. Sparing was also likely happening at other venues; the Glovebox, perhaps, with its wide array of fighters. Other small details that could eventually add up to something were also noted.

He sipped his tea and gave a contented sigh as he flipped open his case files. Stain had been busy in the past few weeks. His timeline had sped up, and the timing was not a coincidence. There was the usual break after the three Shiketsu teachers, but then he started killing once a week, either late Thursday night or early Friday. Slugger and Death Arms were both from Mustafa. It was all the news talked about for the entire weekend. Nezu’s fur began to ruffle at the picture that was becoming clear to him.

Chapter 106: Forging Chains

Tomura set up the live stream while Spinner booted up League of Legends on both computers. “Good morning gamers, and welcome to the live stream. As you can see, we are currently taking donations. Every one-hundred-yen donation gets us one step closer to overthrowing the government. Okay, so. A quick breakdown of today’s incentive list, for this stream only. Seven hundred and fifty yen and up gets you a shout-out in this stream. I’m a reasonable villain, I don’t really expect to hit the higher-tier shit. One thousand five hundred, a personalized shout-out, one of us will read your message to the chat. For three thousand and up, you’ll get a shout-out on our TikTok. Four thousand, we’ll ship you an official League of Villains tee shirt. For seven thousand five hundred, a member of the League will sign it. It’s two thousand yen per additional signature. At the fifteen thousand level, you get a ten-second TikTok commission. It’s seven and a half thousand per additional five seconds. Commissions exclude Crimebrulee because he’s a pussy. That’s it for now, not that I think we’re going to hit even the shirt level today, but I like to be prepared.”

“Maybe we could let the chat pick our character for a price?” Spinner suggested.

It was a surprisingly good idea. “Sure, not this round, but if anybody donates, say… Nah. The highest donor this round picks my character for the next round, the second highest picks Spinner’s.”

Spinner nodded. It was an excellent way to drive up engagement. He was surprised to see it working immediately. “So, FoxPoshy wants to know what the shirts look like, and Moffin wants Tomura to know he’s playing as Kalista.”

From off-screen, a simple black shirt with a dark grey League of Villains logo – the English initials written in a stylized manner to form a heart – emblazed on it was slipped over Spinner’s head. He grunted but accepted it, quickly shoving his arms through the sleeves.

“Fuck you, dipshit. We’re playing teams, so Kalista is a perfect pick. Crafting a pro-level team around her is easy. Thresh, Lissandra, Renata Glasc, and either Blitzcrank or Nautilus; boom, perfect team.”

A second shirt was dangled in front of Tomura as he shouted at the commenter. This one had their group silhouette – tallest in the middle – over the kanji for their names. Tomura snatched it and pulled it on over his long-sleeved V-neck.

“Thank you, Stainbabygirl. Much appreciated MissTerri. And yes, I’ll bully Magne into streaming at some point, but I’ll probably let her pick the game.”

“Moffin says, but Poshy is picking for Spinner, suck it.”

“Thank you for your generous donation, FoxPoshy,” Tomura replied. “I don’t need a perfect team to win. One or two supports and I’ll clean house, idiot.” Tomura grinned as he read out the next donation. “JusticeforSona says, Bet. Thank you, JusticeforSona. Sona is a good character with decent skins, and she deserves more love.”

“BlueWitch asks, what’s your favorite Sona skin?”

“Arcade by a landslide.”

“Mingbash wants to know both of our favorite champions.”

“I’m an optimizer, so Tahm Kench, but Thresh looks the coolest, and Fiddlesticks has the best lore. Fight me.”

Spinner chuckled. “I’m pretty basic, to be honest. I prefer to play Kai’Sa, like I’m doing now. Ivern has the best lore. And Renekton is my comfort character. Do not at me.”

“That’s sweet,” Tomura said. His tone was not mocking or condescending. “Ivern rides on Groot vibes, though.”

“Not in any of his skins.”

“Yeah, it’s almost like they couldn’t think of any way to make a tree interesting. He’s only got four skins.”

“Oh, please, having a ton of skins means they think the character looks boring and needs a boost.”

“No way. Renekton is one of the coolest-looking champions, and he has a shit ton of skins.”

Spinner smiled. He couldn’t argue with that.

 

As Hatsume, Yaoyorozu, and Jiro headed to the nearest clothing store, Jiro excused herself from the group. “I’ll just be a sec, I need to price this game soundtrack I’m thinking about getting for Denki.” She chewed on her thumb momentarily. “Either this one or the soundtrack from that spy movie he loved; whichever is cheaper.”

“Of course, we can meet you in Uniqlo, or go with you if you’d like?”

“Nah, I’ll be quick, meet you there.” Jiro trotted off to the game shop that Kaminari had dragged Izuku to.

The pair walked in awkward silence until they got to the storefront. Hatsume broke the silence by asking, “Have you had an opportunity to wear the new costume?”

“Yes, during my internship, finals, and a special lesson at the start of break. The corset was surprisingly comfortable.”

“Did the halter pull at all? How were the gloves? Did you get a chance to use the capsule launcher?” Hatsume bounced excitedly on her toes, some of her pink locks slipping from her hair tie, as she peppered Yaoyorozu with questions.

She laughed good-naturedly. “It fits perfectly, the gloves are fine, they don’t get in the way, and I have practiced with the launchers on a range; the lack of kickback is impressive.”

“Anything you want to change or add?”

“Oh. I made a collapsible hang glider a couple of times, even if we didn’t add it as a permanent feature, I’d like you to design one for me to use.”

Hatsume cocked her head. “I can do that. You tend to favor the bo staff when you use a weapon, right?”

“Yes.”

“So does Izuku. I think I can combine those to pull double duty.”

“That would be neat.”

The pair of girls chatted comfortably about potential costume upgrades for her, Shinso, and Izuku’s costumes. “Giving the boys gliders would be cool.”

Jiro rejoined them at the front of the store. “Boys suck.”

“What happened?”

“Denki and Izuku were in the game shop talking about that poly shit.”

“Oh,” Yaoyorozu said, flushing a bit. “But why do they suck?”

“It means Denki wants to cheat on me.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Hatsume piped up, exasperated. “You sound like my mother. Just because someone is poly doesn’t mean they’ll cheat. My Grandmother, Seira, has been in a very lovely poly relationship for twenty years, and not once have any of them cheated. That would be so rude.”

“But I’m not in a poly relationship, Mei.”

“And talking about it doesn’t mean he will cheat or even wants to.” She paused and worried her lip. “He has a crush on Shinso, I think. I’m not good at this sort of nebulous, ill-defined stuff, but I think that’s it. And if it is, you don’t have anything to worry about! Shinso already told Izuku and me that he’s not interested in a partnered person. He meant Izuku, at the time. I don’t think we were flirting on purpose, but we both gave him flirty gifts – apparently socks are flirty – for his birthday, so it came up, and he explained.” Hatsume began to babble.

Yaoyorozu put a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Mei-chan.”

“Okay, so Shinso would turn him down if he wanted to cheat on me. That’s not the issue.”

“I don’t think he wants to cheat, though,” Yaoyorozu said. “If he did, he’d talk to Shinso in private, not Izuku.”

“I guess. Let’s just drop it.”

Hatsume nodded, and Yaoyorozu declared, “I want to buy both of you an outfit. Maybe that will brighten your mood.”

Scuffing her foot, Hatsume shyly said, “As long as it’s not that much. Izuku already got me an I-island DSR. I shouldn’t take advantage of my friends like that.”

“Momo is super rich.”

“That’s no excuse,” she replied fiercely.

“Aw, that’s sweet of you, Hatsume-chan,” Yaoyorozu said with a soft, reassuring smile. “An inexpensive outfit is what? A hundred thousand yen? That should be easy enough to stick to here.” She nodded while looking at the price tag on a frilly dress.

“Momo,” Jiro gasped. “That’s twice what the most expensive outfit in my wardrobe is.”

“Oh,” she said, her shoulders slumped, and the excitement in her voice died.

“Twenty-five thousand isn’t that bad,” Hatsume said, patting her on the shoulder. “And if we get something in pink, I think my mother would forgive spending a little extra. She’s always saying she wants to see me in more feminine clothes.”

“Right, I can look at this as a challenge!” Fire lit up in her eyes. Yaoyorozu took in the outfit Hatsume was wearing and thought about the styling she added to her support gear designs. “I’m guessing you have a lot of brown in your wardrobe? And brass accessories?”

“Yes.”

“Pinks actually pair really well with browns.”

Hatsume bit her lip. “Um, do you think we could find coral pink? Like on my DSR?”

“You like that color?”

“Yeah, Izuku said it reminds him of me.”

“Then yes, absolutely.” Yaoyorozu picked out primarily coral pieces with pops of white and favored brass fastenings. The final outfit ended up being a white ribbed, ruched halter with contrast lace below the bust, with a lettuce trim, tie front, mesh top over it, and a knee-length, handkerchief hem wrap skirt. She picked out flats with brass buckles and a geometric-patterned scarf as accessories.

Hatsume twirled around in the skirt. “This is cute, but I feel kind of exposed.”

“Oh, you tend not to wear skirts, huh? We can fix that!” Yaoyorozu popped away and came back with a pair of coral yoga shorts. “That should fix it, and when you buy other skirts in the same color, you’ll be comfy in those too.”

Hatsume nodded. “Thank you, Yaoyorozu-chan.”

“Please, call me Momo.”

“Momo-chan.” Hatsume’s eyes sparkled with an intensity she usually reserved for support gear.

“Help me pick some options for Kyoka-chan?”

“I’ll try,” she said, full of determination. “What are the client’s parameters?”

Yaoyorozu chuckled. “Well, she has a mostly feminine punk rock style, prefers black or bold color options, and likes accessories.”

“Punk rock?” 

“You know,” Jiro said, “chains, studs, leather, animal print, plaid, and stuff.”

“Okay.” Hatsume scanned the racks in the store. Her quirk allowed her to see details on the clothes. “Do you like red? That’s bold.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, her cheeks dusted pink. “I like red.”

“I see some pants you might like.” She strode across the store to collect them. They were slim-fit red plaid pants with black back pockets and belt loops.

“We can definitely work with this,” Yaoyorozu said, grabbing a pair of thin leather suspenders and a matching choker.

Jiro paired the pants with a sleeveless black tee shirt that laced at the shoulders and fingerless gloves with a heart cutout on the back. She was feeling better thanks to a little bit of retail therapy and perhaps examining her own tiny crush.

 

Shota and Yagi were curled up together on the couch when he got home. Both of them were dozing lightly. Hizashi slipped his stylish ankle boots off quietly and pulled on his leopard print house slippers. He deposited the custom, deep blue, size fourteen slippers that he’d bought for Yagi in the cubby they’d given him on the shoe rack. It wasn’t much of a welcome gift, but it was the little things that seemed to bring the man the most joy.

He greeted the cats softly at the kitchen counter, giving each of them a couple of treats. “Not too much, we don’t wanna spoil your dinner.”

Shota made a quiet moan, similar to a cat’s little activation brrp. “‘Zashi? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“No worries, I just got home.” He sighed. “Fuck, after five years, I still love that. I’m home, babe.”

“Yeah, you are,” he replied meaningfully. The pair gave each other a slow blink.

“Are we cooking or ordering?”

“Well, it’s technically Yagi’s turn to cook, so I’d guess ordering.”

“Rude,” the man grumbled, sitting up. “I can cook.”

“Barely,” Shota said. He stretched and made grabby hands at Hizashi.

“Ah, don’t mind him,” he said, sauntering over. “He still insists I can’t cook, either.”

“You can’t, you’re a pan disaster.”

“I’m your pan disaster.” He bent down and cupped Shota’s face.

“Heh, yeah.” They kissed deeply and passionately. Shota reached up and tangled his hands in Hizashi’s silky hair. He pulled him down on top of him, sprawling across Yagi’s lap. “I’ve been keeping something from you. Sorry.”

“Mmm. What is it, babe? You can tell me anything. We’ll handle it.”

“I, uh, I’ve been having dreams about the club incident.”

“It’s understandable that you’d be having nightmares.”

Shota shifted beneath him and turned his head to face away before whispering, “Not nightmares.” He could feel panic welling in his chest. He had to remind himself that this was his husband, that if Yagi had handled it well, so would Hizashi. “Sex dreams.”

“Finally,” Hizashi said with an exasperated sigh. “I was starting to think you were gonna ignore it forever.” He kissed his husband on the cheek, his long hair falling over him in a golden cascade.

“What?” He turned his head sharply to stare up at his husband, their noses brushing.

“It’s okay, babe. So, you got turned on in the moment. Depending on the study, it happens in more than fifty percent of incidents. It’s not weird, it’s not wrong; it’s a perfectly normal biological response. Plus, we are pretty kinky to begin with. I can take care of you. You want Yagi to help?”

Yagi sputtered and stuttered about not wanting to intrude.

“It’s not intruding if you’re invited,” Hizashi told him dismissively. He turned back to Shota. “Babe, you got hotted up being held down by two big, strong men.” He ran his hands down Shota’s arms, gripped his wrists, and pinned them above his head.

“Midoriya is five-five,” Shota interrupted sullenly.

“Plus two for the lifts and three for the platform soles, even if he thinks the shaped toe cap is hiding it.” Chuckling, he leaned into his ear and whispered, “I can call Nem to nibble on you; give you the complete experience. Show you how it’s done right.” He punctuated the sentence with a roll of his hips.

Shota swallowed thickly. “And you’ll stop if I say so.”

“Always.”

He blushed softly. “Nem won’t think I’m a freak?”

“Nemuri would be delighted if you were a freak, and you know it.”

Shota laughed.

“Um, not to ruin the mood, but I’m not sure how I’d feel about Kayama-chan’s involvement.”

“That’s understandable; we’ve never talked about it before.” Hizashi sat up. “We can discuss it over dinner. I am starving.” He stood.

“‘Zashi, you can’t just leave me like this,” Shota whined. 

“Hmm. Oh, but I can. I can turn you on and leave you idling for days if I want to. Luckily for you, your punishment will only last until after dinner. Assuming you eat properly. Now, I’m going to go shower and put on something sexy. I’m thinking leather pants, no shirt, hair tied back.” He turned to Yagi. “What do you think?”

“Uh, um. I. Well, that does sound hot, yes,” he stuttered.

Hizashi nodded. “Good. After you cook or order food. Ah, actually, are you comfortable shirtless?”

“N-not really. Sorry, I know it’s awkward,” he replied, gripping his side.

“It’s fine,” Hizashi told him, almost dismissively. “Do you own anything tight?”

“No, not really.”

“Form-fitting?”

“Some undershirts, I guess.”

“Good. Change into that.”

“Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yeah, we can use traffic lights tonight. We’ll keep it light.”

“I, I’m not sure I can do this.”

“Oh. Uh, what part?”

“Recreating Aizawa’s assault.”

“Okay. That’s fair. I can understand how that might be concerning. We can negotiate after dinner, though. For now, will you put on something sexy for us?”

“Sure,” he agreed, unsteadily.

 

Yaoyorozu laid a large blanket over the sand. Hatsume pulled a couple of little lanterns out of her bag. Izuku and Shinso side-eyed her a little but didn’t comment. The group settled onto the blanket and began to distribute the food. Sushi, onigiri, korokke, slices of rolled omelet, and fried chicken were passed around.

As they divided up the watermelon, Izuku said, “Okay, so this is going to keep coming up until we talk about it. I put the idea out there in the first place, so I guess I’m kind of responsible for making sure it doesn’t do any damage.”

Most of the group looked at him curiously.

“So, um. Kaminari asked me about polyamory earlier, and Jiro overheard, didn’t understand, and got upset. So I’m going to explain to the whole group to avoid that happening in the future.” He paused, both to let them make comments or ask questions and to take a bite of watermelon. When they didn’t interrupt, he continued, “So, the primer is: polyamory is a relationship between multiple equal partners. Informed and enthusiastic consent is required, as with any relationship. The more people in a relationship, the greater the chance of complications because you’re dealing with more feelings. You have to establish your boundaries and expectations clearly. Communication is key, and jealousy needs to be monitored closely and dealt with carefully and honestly. Uh.” He shrugged. “I mean, aside from that, it gets into the specifics of an individual relationship.”

“And what do you want for this relationship?” Yaoyorozu asked.

“A safe place for us to explore our feelings and relationships in general. We really aren’t going to have the time to maintain relationships with people who keep normal schedules. Still, in theory, we’d understand if things came up, and could check one another if we get obsessive or whatever.” He shifted nervously and wrung his hands.

“Who are you interested in?” Shoto asked.

Izuku shrugged. “Like I said before, no one in particular.” 

“But in general?” Hatsume asked.

“Sure, you’re all attractive.”

“What would this look like then?”

“Well, I think it would be kind of a chain, with most of us dating about two people. But negotiations could change that.”

“Negotiations?” Jiro asked.

“Yeah, important stuff and details. Uh, like how far you're willing to go, what you'll do, and with whom. I think I can get us some worksheets to use as guidelines if there’s any interest.”

“I think I’m interested,” Yaoyorozu said, hesitantly.

Shoto regarded her. He quietly said, “I’m not sure. Izuku said we would wait because of all the trauma. I don’t know that we’re ready.”

“If you and Izuku aren’t ready, why bring it up?” Shinso asked.

“Because I mentioned it to Momo, who talked about it with Jiro – likely to gauge her interest – and she mentioned it to Denki, who was trying to gather more information. So I figure we should all be on the same page, to avoid any drama.”

“Dude, relationships are one hundred percent drama. Adding more people will just make it worse,” Shinso said, with a chuckle. “Both of you and your flirtatious presents.”

“I wasn’t trying to flirt!” Mei and Izuku said in unison, Izuku somewhat petulantly.

“What did they get you?” Yaoyorozu asked. 

“Socks and headphones, both cat-themed.”

“Was the theme what made it flirty?” she asked.

“Uh,” his gaze shifted between the pair, “no. Of course not. They-they were scandalized about each other’s gifts. I just know they thought it was flirty.”

Yaoyorozu hummed.

Izuku fiddled nervously with the box of macarons Yaoyorozu had bought. “Okay, that’s dealt with. Shoto and I can talk with Momo about it more, later, since no one else is interested. And we don’t have to-to talk about it anymore. And hey, this saves Jiro and Denki from an awkward conversation. Not a total loss.”

Shoto wrapped his arms around Izuku. “You’re trembling. Are you alright?”

Izuku sniffed and buried his head in his shoulder. “‘m fine, really. I just shouldn’t have brought it up to begin with. Gym friend stuff and school friend stuff are not meant to mix. Bad idea. Everybody thinks I’m weird now.”

Mei practically tackled the pair. “You’re not weird, Izuku, darling. You’re sweet for wanting us to all be happy. Serial monogamy is weird. Like monogamy is fine, sometimes you meet your one, like my parents. But sometimes your one is six idiot heroes that need protection from their delusions of invulnerability. And you have to be open to at least trying when the universe gives you the opportunity.”

Shinso spoke up hesitantly, “I won’t poach, period, so this absolutely hinges on Jiro’s green flag, but I’m not disinterested.”

“Way to put pressure on me.”

“No pressure,” he reassured her. “It won’t work out if you’re not actually into it, and none of us want that. It’s just, I’m open to negotiations if you are. Otherwise, we just stay friends.”

Izuku nodded from his position, half crushed under Hatsume and Shoto.

“How would I know if I’m into it?”

“Are you attracted to one or more people here?” Izuku asked.

“Yeah,” she replied slowly. “I’m dating Denki.”

“How would you feel if Denki kissed Shinso right now? Or hugged him, or held hands?”

“I don’t know.”

“We could test it. With-with the hand holding. That’s the least bit of physical affection.”

“You want Denki and Shinso to hold hands?”

“In front of everyone, no less. Kinky, I know, but it’s for science.”

“You’re very difficult to take seriously from under a dog pile.”

“I would like to be difficult to take seriously at all times, thank you very much.”

The group burst out laughing, some of the tension broken.

“What happens if I get jealous?”

“You tell us, and the hand-holding stops. Open and honest communication is key. Even, or perhaps especially, when it means saying no. Maybe you end up learning you’re not into polyamory. Maybe you’re okay with them going on dates and being romantic, but not kissing. And maybe you start one way, and end up another. As long as you communicate, it’s fine.”

“Okay. I guess we can try it.”

Kaminari cupped her face. “On the one hand, I’m stoked that this might be an option; on the other, I need to be sure you don’t feel pressured. One word, one doubt, and it stops. I would never cheat on you. And I would never give you up, not even for Hitoshi. I really like you. Maybe even, you know. Love you.” He leaned in and kissed her delicately on the lips.

“This does not alleviate the pressure,” she murmured.

“Everything applies pressure,” Hatsume said. “The trick is to keep it within tolerances and apply equal pressure in the opposite direction.”

“Or it explodes,” Jiro whined.

“Yes.”

This elicited a chuckle from Jiro. “Okay. I think I’m ready.”

Instead of Kaminari moving over to Shinso, he gestured for the taciturn boy to join them. Kaminari laced his fingers with Jiro and offered his other hand to Shinso.

Shinso silently took it and intertwined their fingers. After a few moments, he slowly brought Kaminari’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them one by one. He was blushing when he finished and let their joined hands drop to the blanket between them.

Jiro saw the affection in their eyes and felt something. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t the hot anger she’d felt overhearing Kaminari talking to Izuku or the cold pit of jealousy that had tainted shopping with Yaoyorozu and Hatsume. It was warm and pleasant. It was surprising.

She brought the hand in hers up and brushed her lips against the back before kissing it. She pushed his fingers out straight and kissed the tips, enjoying the feel of the rough patches of callus he was developing while learning to play the guitar.

Kaminari’s cheeks were dusted red, and he was making a concerted effort to control his breathing. He looked positively undone.

Jiro smiled. “Okay, I’m open to negotiations.”

Chapter 107: Forging Bonds

Yagi contemplated waiting until after he had cooked to change, but decided against it. He put the potatoes in the oven and set the timer before heading to his room.

Picking a top was easy enough. He had several white tank tops and grabbed one at random. Form-fitting pants were another story altogether. He rummaged through his clothes until he came up with the only thing that wasn’t baggy on his small form: a pair of army-green yoga pants. He hoped it was sexy enough for Hizashi.

The mixed green salad was ready, topped with feta, gorgonzola, and cherry tomatoes for Hizashi and Shota. So, he could start on the burgers. He created three oversized patties, seasoned with salt and pepper, and then put a slice of cheddar cheese on each. Then he grilled onions and mushrooms to add. He closed each patty around the warm filling.

When he started to fry the first one, Hizashi came back from his shower. Yagi swallowed hard as he took in the bare chest, half his hair pulled up into a messy bun, two gold studs in his ears, and black leather pants with rough cord lacing up the sides.

Shota made an abortive gesture as if to caress the cord. He swallowed roughly as well.

“Sho, could you put some music on for me?” Hizashi pressed himself against Yagi’s back. His hands caressed Yagi’s chest and abs.

“That is very distracting.”

“Then I’m doing it right.” He swayed his hips in time to the rock ballad Shota had chosen.

Yagi was glad for the meager protection the ribbed cotton tank top provided as he grilled burgers for the three of them. The grease sizzled and popped as Hizashi groped him, his hands starting as high as he could comfortably reach and slowly moving downward.

He gripped Yagi’s hips and ground against him. “Enjoying the show?”

“Yeah,” Shota replied huskily.

“You’re being so good for me, babe. Do you like watching Yagi squirm?”

“Uh-huh. Want you both.”

“Be patient, my good boy. You’ll get what you want after dinner.”

“So mean, making me wait.”

“You made me wait, trying to handle this problem yourself. You know we’re in this together. I will never leave you because of a little trauma.”

“I know, I know.”

“Then why did you keep it from me?” he asked, sliding his hands slowly under Yagi’s waistband.

Shota whimpered. “Keep it above the belt,” he heard himself say.

Hizashi immediately pulled his hands up. “Is that hot for you? You want me to tease Yagi?”

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“Grab the salad out of the fridge for me,” Yagi said shakily. He plated up the last burger and pulled the roasted potatoes out of the oven; the aroma of garlic, rosemary, and thyme wafted through the condo.

Hizashi sat next to Yagi with Shota across the table from them.

“I don’t think that’s fair,” Yagi said, looking meaningfully between the pair.

“I’m being punished,” he pointed out.

“Still,” Yagi said, “you should sit next to your husband.”

“I guess we have to start the negotiations now.” Hizashi sighed as he sat down. “So, we’re going to keep it light, because it’ll be your first time doing more than just kissing with us. A just bit of restraint and teasing. Maybe put some music on and record it, if it’s okay with you.”

“You want to recreate a very traumatic incident. And film it?”

“Sure, so Sho can have control of the situation. And filming it could give him an outside perspective, but mostly to show it to Nem so she can tell him it’s not weird.”

“How is this helpful? You want me to hold him down while you molest him.”

“Yeah, and he’ll be able to tell us to stop. More importantly, he can fight and struggle or even give in, in a situation where failure won’t be fatal.”

Yagi frowned. He turned to Shota. “And that works?”

“Yeah. It’s like EMDR, exposure therapy, or cognitive processing therapy.”

“EMDR?” 

“Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. You process and release traumatic memories through eye movements.”

“It’s more like Narrative therapy, where you rewrite your story to give your experiences meaning and shape how you see yourself and the world you live in. You rewrite your narrative of the traumatic event until the trauma has no emotional hold on you.”

“So, we’re rewriting what happened to him?”

“Part of it.”

“Okay,” he relented, reluctantly. “But, no filming.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. And, hey, if this is too much, you can safe word. Consent goes both ways.”

“Right, safe word. How does that work, exactly?”

“You say it, we stop; red, or red light. Yellow to slow down and check in. Green means go if we ask you. Which we will, since you’re unsure,” Shota told him.

“So, um, what exactly will we be doing?”

“Mostly kissing and groping, eventually we’ll go below the belt, though,” Hizashi said, his hand finding Yagi’s knee and sliding up his thigh. “Shota gives the most amazing blow jobs. Ten out of ten would recommend getting some Eraserhead.”

“Zashi,” he chided lightly.

“What? You’re amazing.”

Shota was blushing. “I just know what you like.”

“I guess we’ll see. If Yagi’s up to it, that is.”

“I am a little nervous about the whole thing.”

“We’ll take good care of you,” Shota reassured him.

“And that’s as far as it will go?”

“Unless you specify, ask for it.”

“Alright.”

The three men finished their food and stored Yagi’s leftovers in the fridge. Once in the bedroom, Hizashi directed them to the wall opposite the bed while he turned on some soft music to set the mood. “Technically, we’re engaging in role-play, and this would be called a scene. Don’t worry about staying in character, though; just be yourself. Okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty sure I understand.” He grinned good-naturedly.

“Good. Now, before we start, is there anything you know you don’t want us to do or say? Either to you or in front of you?”

“Well, I don’t think I’d be a fan of degradation or pain.”

“That’s reasonable,” Hizashi replied with a nod. He turned to Shota and asked, “Are you attached to that shirt?”

“Kinda,” Shota replied. “It’s super soft and comfortable.”

“Take it off, then.”

He shrugged the tee off and tossed it toward the hamper. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Yagi held Shota’s arms behind his back. “Is that okay? You’re not uncomfortable?”

“It’s good. You could go tighter if you want.” He leaned into Yagi, reveling in the heat coming off his body. It eased his muscles where before they were wound tight in anticipation and nerves.

“No, this-this is good.”

“You’re not hurting me.”

“Good.”

Hizashi laid a trail of kisses from Shota’s jaw to his collarbone. “Push him against the wall.”

With a tight frown, Yagi complied. Shota’s shoulder was pressed against the wall.

Hizashi pulled Yagi in for a long, sensuous kiss before returning to Shota’s jaw. He kissed and licked his way to his belly button. “Do you like that, Sho?”

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. He squirmed in Yagi’s grip. “Yagi, Toshinori, kiss me?”

With a gentle smile, Yagi leaned down and met Shota’s lips. After a long, passionate kiss, Shota turned his head to expose his neck. Yagi latched onto his pulse point and started to suck. “Oh, should I be careful not to give you a hickey?”

“Mmm, sexy. Mark him up so he feels it for days.”

“No,” Shota whined, grinding against Yagi. He reveled in the warmth and solid form against his back. “I have a meeting tomorrow.”

“I’ll be careful then.” He returned his lips to Shota’s neck.

Hizashi slid his fingers down Shota’s torso in a meandering path, slowly dipping towards his waistband. The touch caused goose bumps to rise on his skin. “Push him flat against the wall for me.”

Shota was flipped against the wall. It was cool and smooth against his cheek. The light lingering smell of paint reminded him that they’d repainted the bedroom four months ago, a beautiful taupe that matched Hizashi’s eyes. He had been a little upset to hear that at the time, but had gotten over it when he realized they’d need two of the small cans to complete the room. They had done painstaking stripes, which Shota could only see if he was looking for them. He was sure the other color was a pale ‘green’.

Hizashi ran his hands down Shota’s back, bringing him back into the moment, before he leaned in and ran his tongue over each of Shota’s scars. His muscles twitched, and he gasped at the sensation; his husband’s hot, wet tongue sliding over raised claw marks, dipping into the twin stab wounds, and lapping at the tip of the long slash across his torso.

“Do you want more, Sho?”

“Yes.”

“Is that okay with you, Toshinori?”

“I guess, I mean, if it’s just normal sex stuff.”

“Yeah, normal, plain, vanilla fucking my husband against the wall.” Hizashi chuckled. At Yagi’s nod, he quickly removed the belt that held up Shota’s jeans and threw it on the floor behind him. Shota strained his neck to look at Hizashi as he unbuttoned his pants. He whined softly at the slow slide of the zipper.

His fingers brushed the hard length trapped under Shota’s tight black boxers as he slowly slid his jeans down to mid-thigh, trapping his legs. Shota whimpered at each caress. He tried to press into the delicious friction, but Hizashi pressed him into the wall.

“Hold still, my naughty boy.” He rubbed his hands up and down Shota’s length; too slowly to build toward orgasm. “You don’t get to come until I say so.” He peeled his boxers down, ignoring the small wet spot forming in the front.

Shota gasped as the cool air hit his hot member. Hizashi took his thick, long cock in his hand and stroked it slowly. Shota’s hard breathing and desperate attempts to hold in his noises caused heat to pool in his gut. “Hey, Toshi, there’s lube in the top drawer of the dresser. Can you grab it for me?”

“Yeah, of course.” He paused and contemplated Shota’s wrists. “You’ll stay put?”

Shota nodded.

“Out loud,” he insisted with more confidence than he felt. 

“Yeah, Toshi, I’ll be good. I’ll stay put.”

“Good boy.” Yagi let go of his wrists and stepped back. He hesitated for a moment to ensure that Shota was going to keep his hands up before he stepped over to the dresser to find the lube.

Hizashi held out his hand, and Yagi poured some lube onto it. Yagi returned to holding Shota’s wrists above his head. Hizashi used his slick fingers to probe Shota’s hole until he whined in frustration. 

“Zashi, please.”

“Please, what, Sho?”

“Fuck me. Please. I need you.”

“Oh, god, Sho, that is so hot. Fuck.” He slid three fingers inside and slowly pumped in and out.

Shota groaned at the combination of sensations and the initial burn. He became louder when Hizashi hit his prostate. He set a slow but steady pace. Once again, he kept it up until Shota whined. He scissored his fingers in response.

“You ready, babe? You want to get fucked? Hmm?”

“Yes, please, ‘Zashi, please.”

“You want it here or on the bed?”

“Here,” he replied hoarsely. “Please.”

“Okay, babe. Relax for me.”

Shota groaned as he slid his fingers out. Hizashi lined himself up and eased in slowly, going just a hair deeper with each thrust. His fingertips bit into Shota’s hips. When he finally, finally bottomed out, Shota was a moaning, begging mess.

Yagi repositioned directly behind Hizashi to be more comfortable. He could easily lean against the wall, holding Shota up while allowing Hizashi enough room to work.

Hizashi relentlessly rocked his hips back and forth in a dramatic contrast to how slow and controlled he was before. “Fuck, you feel so good, babe.” It didn’t take long for him to hit Shota’s prostate; the litany of begging and praise coming from Shota cut off in a startled moan. “Like that?”

Shota could only nod, his breath coming in shallow pants. Hizashi found a steady rhythm of rough thrusts where he was grinding back into Yagi. He brought one hand up to grip Shota’s throat, restricting his airway. His moans came out choked and rasping.

Yagi let go of his arms and stepped back. “Stop.”

“Please,” Shota whined, still holding his arms up obediently.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” Hizashi asked, stopping. He pulled out, despite Shota’s plaintive whine, and turned to Yagi. “Toshi?”

He swallowed roughly. “You said vanilla. That is not vanilla.”

“Sorry, my bad. Should have warned you. I got caught up in the moment,” Hizashi explained. “Do you want me to, uh, not do that? Does it bother you?”

“We agreed no pain stuff.”

“Oh, sweetie, this isn’t hurting him. Sho really loves it. But I will stop if it bothers you.”

Yagi fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “It doesn’t hurt?”

“No,” Shota answered. His voice was lust-laced and impatient but not gravelly from abuse. “Want it. Give me your hand.” Shota dropped his arms and reached behind him.

Yagi hesitantly put his hand in Shota’s. Shota pulled the large, gnarled hand up to his throat. He moaned softly at the intense heat of it. He held Yagi’s hand there without applying pressure. He took a couple of slow, even breaths before applying just a hint of pressure and moaning so Yagi could feel the vibration.

“Zashi, is it okay if Toshi fucks me?”

“Yeah, babe. I would love to watch that.” He bit his lip and raked his eyes up and down Yagi’s lanky form. “Do you want to?”

Yagi blushed vibrantly. “I, um. It’s not that simple. I-I want to, but um… it’s, I can’t, it’s been difficult for me to…”

“But you can, right?” Hizashi asked as he retrieved a box of condoms from the dresser.

“Yeah.”

“So, you need more foreplay?” Shota asked, turning around awkwardly. “Anything you like?”

Yagi shrugged, blushing lightly. “I don’t know, I’ve never done anything weird. Er, I mean…”

“It’s okay, Toshi,” Hizashi cooed. “We’re just going to change the mood here. If you’re having doubts and troubles at the same time, we can alleviate the doubts at least. Why don’t we come to the bed?”

“Okay. I feel like we’re getting off-topic…”

Shota chuckled and pushed his pants and underwear off. “I’m going to get railed. I don’t care that I have to work for it. Actually, that’s kinda hot. Make me beg, Toshi.” He grabbed Yagi’s waist and pulled him to the bed.

“I didn’t think this would go so fast.”

“We can slow down,” Hizashi said soothingly, joining them next to the bed. “We’re flexible. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Let’s just talk about what experience you’ve had.”

“Well, um,” Yagi settled on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He appreciated the look of the thick posts and slats; sturdy and capable of taking the weight of the three of them easily. “I didn’t date at all until college. I fooled around a little there. Um, nothing serious.”

“You don’t have to tell us with whom, sunshine, but can you be more specific about what?” Hizashi snuggled up to his side, lightly caressing his chest.

He shrugged, idly petting Shota’s hair. The man had practically curled up in his lap. “Just regular, vanilla stuff; sex, hand jobs, blow jobs, eating out.”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Yes.”

“Toshi,” Hizashi chided. “Come on.”

“It’s awkward.”

“I know, I know,” Hizashi said, patting his arm gently. “Just relax. Was there anything you really enjoyed doing or having done to you?”

“Not really. I mean, not more than anything else.”

“Okay…”
 “Well, I guess there was this one thing. I’m not sure Shota will like it. And it might not even be a thing.”

“Oh?” Shota asked. He sat up to give Yagi his full attention.

“Yeah, well, I… I’ve only really ever done it with Dave, and it wasn’t even a sex thing. Not really. I mean, a couple of times it led us to fool around, but he never meant it to be sexy. He just liked to surprise me, is all.” He paused and took a breath. “Dave used to blindfold me to show me new stuff. You know, he’d finish a piece of support gear and slap a blindfold on me for a grand reveal. He was also a bit of a prankster, so I could never be one hundred percent sure he wasn’t setting me up for some light ribbing.”

Hizashi launched himself from the bed gleefully. “Do you prefer eye masks, silk, cotton –”

“Don’t overwhelm him,” Shota chided. “Just grab the black eye mask.”

“Okay, okay.” Hizashi bent down and pulled a box out. He rummaged for a moment before straightening up. “Here we are.” He handed the satin eye mask to Yagi. “So, Sho and I will take turns at first, to not overwhelm you. We’ll start with kissing, then exploring. You let us know if anything is uncomfortable. Okay?”

Anxiety and anticipation swirled around his chest, but he nodded. “Yeah. I, uh, um. I’m sorry I couldn’t – hmmph.”

Shota pressed his lips to Yagi’s. Shota’s lips were thin but surprisingly soft and warm. His scruffy beard and mustache tickled his face. “Never feel bad about using your safeword. And, hey, we knew you were nervous going into it; it's fine. This,” he ran a finger down Yagi’s arm to the blindfold, “is good.”

“Do you want to put it on yourself or have one of us do it?”

“I can, I can do it,” he replied. He pulled the eye mask on. “Uh, okay.” Yagi held his hands up awkwardly, and the pair realized that he had always been led when blindfolded.

Shota’s breath hitched. Hesitantly, he leaned closer, watching as Yagi’s own breathing became pants. He gently pressed his lips to Yagi’s. Yagi gasped, and Shota deepened the kiss. Yagi’s hands flutter until they came to rest on Shota’s neck and cheek. He held him and whined as he kissed back just as deeply. He pulled him closer, tangling his hands in Shota’s hair, eliciting soft moans.

But the smaller man pulled back, gasping for breath, only to be replaced by a grinning Hizashi. “So hot. Tell me what he tastes like.” He pressed his lips to Yagi’s. Hizashi’s lips were fuller, plusher, as was his mustache.

“Savory, a bit salty, like grilled onions,” Shota replied.

Hizashi smirked at his husband’s literal interpretation of his request. He took his time exploring Yagi’s mouth, luxuriating in the silken texture and gentle heat. When he pulled away, he pressed kisses along Yagi’s jaw, over his ear, and down his neck. Hizashi leaned back with a groan.

With the pair practically pampering him, Yagi couldn’t hold back a little moan of his own. He found himself leaning into their touches as they took turns caressing and kissing their way down his clothed body.

“Can I take your shirt off?” Shota asked.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Yagi replied.

“Then I won’t,” Shota assured him. His hands carefully slid down Yagi’s waist before settling on his hips, massaging circles into the flesh with his thumbs. He began nuzzling Yagi’s leg and mouthed over his semi-hard length.

Hizashi cooed sweet nothings as he massaged Yagi’s scalp. “Such a good boy.” He carded his fingers through his hair. Another groan left Yagi, the gentle tugging sending pleasurable chills down his spine. Hizashi hummed softly as he licked the sun-kissed skin of his collarbone.

Yagi moaned, and his hips bucked. “Please.” His breath hitched just a little as Hizashi placed feather-light kisses along the column of toned muscle of his neck.

“Please what, Toshi?” Hizashi grazed his teeth lightly over his pulse point.

“More? Stop? I don’t know.”

Shota stopped his ministrations with a groan. He sat up. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

Yagi whined and reached out for Shota.

“I’m right here,” he said, taking his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.” He pulled the hand to his lips. “You want to be touched. But you need something else. Stop wasn’t it. Maybe…” He lowered his hands and caressed Yagi’s waistband. “May I take these off?”

“Yeah. Yes. Please.”

Shota slid Yagi’s yoga pants down. He began licking, kissing, and nipping at the newly revealed flesh. After a brief detour to nuzzle Yagi’s hardening member, he slunk down the bed to Yagi’s feet. Slowly, he worked his way back up. Shota kissed the tops of his feet, nibbled his ankles, and licked his way up to Yagi’s knees.

Hizashi mimicked the gestures with Yagi’s arms, kissing the backs of his hands and his palms before sucking on the pulse points on his wrists and nibbling his way to Yagi’s elbows.

Shota’s tongue laved over the tight muscles of Yagi’s thighs. Teasing and tasting the pale skin of his inner thigh. Feather-light licks tickled up to his balls. He pressed a kiss to them, nuzzled his thigh, and gently started licking. Slow, languid swipes, just exploring with his tongue.

He drew circles with his tongue, over and over; his nose barely grazing Yagi’s hardening cock. Soft mewling became sharp gasps as he licked from the base to the tip. “You taste so good.”

Yagi gripped his hair as he flicked his tongue against his tip. “More,” he moaned lowly, tangling his hand in Shota’s hair.

“Just a sec,” Hizashi interrupted. He pulled a condom from the box and rolled it down Yagi’s cock. “I’m sure you’re clean, but rules are rules.”

“Yeah, of course,” Yagi agreed breathlessly.

Shota nodded silently. He wondered if the rubber would taste funny, but he shouldn’t have doubted his husband. He licked at the slit experimentally. It was flavored, but not with the usual sickly sweet artificial flavors. There was a faint toasted coconut taste, but mostly it was barely noticeable.

Yagi arched his back and gasped. “Yes, please, please.”

Shota gripped his thighs to keep him still. He adjusted his position and bent his head down to nuzzle the fine curly blond hairs at the base of his cock. Yagi’s hips bucked under Shota’ tight grip as he kissed the underside, slowly making his way back to the head.

As he took the tip into his mouth, Hizashi pulled Yagi’s hands out of Shota’s hair. “We’re going to let him work. You’re so huge.”

“Sorry.”

“No, nope. Not sorry. We just have to let him take his time. He loves choking on cock, but I don’t think you’ll be comfortable with that your first time.”

“Yeah, don’t choke.”

“I won’t,” Shota promised. He took Yagi back into his mouth and proceeded slowly and steadily down his shaft. He took more with each bob of his head until he had about half in his mouth before he pulled back with an obnoxious pop. “Help me, ‘Zashi?” He grabbed Yagi’s legs and pulled him down the bed until he was flat on his back.

Hizashi straddled his torso and pinned Yagi’s hips down for him. Yagi grabbed Hizashi’s hips with a whine. Shota licked from the base to the tip teasingly before wrapping his hands around the shaft and returning to his ministrations. He lifted his head until just the tip was in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it before going back down at a snail’s pace. Moaning around Yagi’s cock, Shota came off just enough to breathe and did it again. Over and over until Yagi was thrashing his head back and forth and begging.

“I’m going to – ah.” Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. Yagi’s muscles tightened as his release hit him harder than it had in years.

“Good boy, Toshi, come for us.”

Shota swallowed through his orgasm, despite the condom. When Yagi went slack, he crawled up the bed. Hizashi moved behind him as he knelt over Yagi. He lazily dappled kisses over Yagi’s glistening skin.

Hizashi worked his way to the hilt in a few long, slow thrusts, causing Shota to moan. He thrust back to meet his husband, pleasure built in both of them, and their movements became frantic. Hizashi ground into him, his cock rubbing Shota’s prostate, as he came.

Shota soon followed, leaning up to capture Yagi’s lips as he did. His abdomen was left a sticky mess as the pair collapsed on top of him. He wrapped his long arms around them both and dozed lightly.

Hizashi was the first to recover and went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. He came back to his husband, grinning wickedly, as he removed the condom from Yagi. Yagi mewled at the contact. 

Shota took the rag and hushed him as he cleaned the mess. “It’s okay. You can be done, beautiful.”

Hizashi was getting hard again, watching his husband take care of Yagi. “Do you need a nap too, babe?”

“Nah, I could go again.”

“I can’t keep up,” Yagi muttered tiredly.

“That’s a nonissue,” Hizashi assured him. “That’s the joy of multiple parties. Anyway, first times are always a little chaotic. We’re learning so much. You need a bit of foreplay to get you going and some recovery time. No big deal. We’re not sixteen anymore, we can’t marathon it like we used to.”

Shota nodded. “Now, do you want to cuddle, watch us fuck again, or sleep?”

“Can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Now, it may lead to more sex, or I could just fall asleep. I really can go either way.” Shota settled into Yagi’s arms and made grabby hands at his husband. “You let us know when or if you’re up for round two. I don’t mind being woken up for it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Chapter 108: Training Night

While the park was painted in bright yellow, orange, green, and purple, Izuku’s night vision dulled the colors and blurred the details; Orange and green yellowed, but the shadows hid little from him. The painted dinosaur motifs were mostly lost to him, but the dinosaur-shaped playground equipment was in sharp relief against the now grey night sky.

“First, we’ll teach you how to fall,” Izuku said sagely to the assembled League members. Magne and Kurogiri sat out the parkour training because of their broken ribs. When no one interrupted, he launched straight into the mechanics, ignoring the twinge of grief in his chest. He dropped smoothly into a full squat, “Step one: rolling. Start with one shoulder and roll across to the opposite hip,” and leaned forward with his hands to one side of his head, tucking his chin. His knees were tucked in tight, and he rolled into a ball. He lounged on the pea gravel with a smile hidden by his mask. “We’ll practice that for a while, and then you’ll do it from a standing position. Give me five on the left shoulder and five on the right.”

“Don’t look so smug,” Tomura chided.

“It’s only an hour, then you’re all free to,” he pretended to check the schedule, “to rest up for conditioning.”

“Wasn’t conditioning supposed to be first?” Spinner asked.

“Yeah, but I need you fresh for this, plus it’s a good warm-up.”

“I’m going to end up killing you,” Dabi said dryly.

“Pussy,” Tomura muttered.

“None of this is beyond any of you,” Izuku replied. “This isn’t what will make you want to kill me. That’s what the conditioning is for.” Izuku made corrections as they did the drills. While the team all progressed quickly, they each had their own strengths and hang-ups. None of them mastered the roll in an hour, but he was confident that they were ready to move to the standing version by the end of it.

During the ten-minute break, Toga filmed a TikTok to pass the time. “I’d love to tell you it’s not healthy to keep it in,” she said, shaking her head, “but in your case, you can’t afford the kind of lawyer you’re gonna need to get you out of that. So,” she stood and smiled brightly at the phone, “Keep it in. Shove it deep down inside. It’s not worth it.” She only had to do it twice; the second time was just to fix the lighting. She would use the audio from the first take. The others tried a few of their own.

“If you haven’t got anything nice to say,” Magne said with a mischievous grin, “say it anyway. Some people need to be told the fucking truth.” 

Stray could be seen over her shoulder walking along the park’s uneven concrete on his hands.

With a huff, Dabi stared into the camera that Mustered was pointing at him. “Who cares that the world is on fire? Grab some marshmallows. Let’s watch it burn,” he said in a low and gravelly tone.

“My mind is exceptionally quiet today,” Twice said to the phone, tapping his temple. “I’m suspicious that I’m up to something I don’t want myself to know about.”

The conditioning training started with a thirty-minute run and ended with twenty minutes of squats, lunges, lateral lunges, and split jacks. Magne and Kurogiri had joined them on the run, though at a much more leisurely pace, and were sitting out of the workout.

Again, Izuku checked the form and used Search to monitor everyone’s condition. He made Dabi deepen his squats. “You’re surprisingly flexible.”

“How would you know?”

“I can monitor the team for injuries. You’re not even straining.”

“What is your quirk, even?”

“Yes,” Izuku replied, sounding far more confident and mysterious than he felt. “Mustard, you actually want to ease off on that lunge, you’ll tear something that way.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“No. Absolutely not. That will hamper your progress. While we want to break down muscles so they can re-knit stronger, tearing would cause injury that would need time to heal.”

“Oh,” he replied. He muttered, “All this jock shit is stupid.”

“All this jock shit is the foundation for everything you want in life,” Izuku corrected. 

“No, it’s not. I want to change the world, not be a buff dude-bro.”

“You have to be in shape to accomplish anything outside of a desk job,” Izuku told him sternly. “Even then, it helps. Beyond basic health, have you ever carried a rifle, hiked off-trail, or so much as roughed it for a few nights? Just basic camping is exhausting. Imagine getting to the training camp without Kurogiri.”

“But we have Kurogiri.”

“We won’t always. He’s one guy. He’s injured. He has other responsibilities. We can’t depend on one person that much.”

“You’re starting to sound like Sensei,” Tomura chided.

Izuku’s demeanor flipped like a switch at that. He went from a tough commander dressing down his troops to an awkward but gentle team member just trying to get through training together. “Whoa, whoa. Hey, now. That is not what I mean. We can trust each other. We can rely on each other. It’s just that we’ll go a lot farther with backup plans and contingencies. If we get separated on the battlefield, each of us needs to be able to disappear into the ether. To get to a town, a bus or train station, and make their way, unobserved, to a safe place. I want you all to be safe.”

“You barely know us.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. But I shouldn’t be taking any more time away for the rest of the year. We’ll get to know each other.”

“Whatever.”

 

During the twenty-minute break, Izuku popped onto his DSR and did the maintenance tasks in Animal Crossing. While his mother and Toga had cute, primarily pink islands and Kurogiri’s was an adorably dreamy blue, Izuku hadn’t picked a theme for his. Even Tomura was developing a distinct gamer aesthetic.

Izuku just didn’t have a strong aesthetic preference. He supposed he was like that in many areas. Other than aping All Might, he didn’t even have any idea what he wanted his hero costume to look like. Mei was the only reason it wasn’t a hot mess. Thinking of Mei did inspire him to look at the steampunk options. It looked good with the basic ‘woodland village’ vibe that was the default look. A few pieces would give his island a bit of personality.

Maybe he’d let Mei have another run at his costume, too, especially if he was going to add the anxiety vest and capsule launcher. As it was, he had a more cohesive image as Stray than as Cheshire. To be fair, he spent more time being Stray. And part of the goal with the Cheshire kit was to be able to blend into a crowd.

“You’re muttering,” Tomura said.

“Sorry.”

“No,” Tomura swatted him, “it means you’re working on a problem and need to talk through it.”

Izuku hummed. “It’s… about aesthetics and personal identity.”

“I think the color scheme is the right amount of unifying without fucking with anyone’s personal style; except Mustard, don’t know what’s going on there, but I’m glad we fixed it. The pants are a good choice for fieldwork.”

“The boy is still learning,” Compress piped up.

“It’s not the League. I know we look good.” He sighed. This was not a good place to have this conversation, but he did value Tomura’s opinion. “It’s the other fit, you know?”

“Oh,” he said a little dismissively. “Not sure I’m the right person to talk to about that.”

Izuku shrugged. “Your style is simple, modern, and striking. It’s memorable in your full regalia, while still being discreet to walk around in.”

“And you want that?”

“Yeah. I need to be able to do both: go big and disappear.”

“So why don’t you? You’re not stupid; if you can’t design it yourself, hire someone.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I guess it’s just that I don’t know what I want. My two biggest influences on that are… It’s not who I am anymore, you know.”

Tomura nodded. “You’ve grown up. Time to move on.”

Izuku turned his DSR so Tomura could see his little green cat avatar. “This is me. I want this. But like, cool, not cute.”

“You’ll always be cute,” Toga piped up.

Tomura took the chrome handheld from him. “The answer is always this, Stray.” He held it up like a mirror. “This is you. This is what - who you are. How do you make this something the masses can consume? How do you turn this into a cutesy green cat?”

“Thanks,” Izuku chuckled. He wasn’t wrong.

 

Ironically, Kurogiri warped them back to the warehouse for the field craft training. Izuku had decided to go over basic hand signs and field kits. He set up a full infantryman’s kit on a pair of large crates. Approximately eighty pounds of gear; boots, uniform, first aid kit, sleeping bag, tarp, hammer, ax, flashlight, fire starter, rope, rain-slick, canteen, trash bags, Ziploc bags, mess kit, rations, folding spade, bug spray, sunscreen, multi-tool, knife, hand crank radio, whistle, dust mask, duct tape, wet wipes, zip ties, pliers, can opener, map, phone, handgun, ammo, weapon service and repair kit. It was a strange mishmash of camping, survival, and military equipment.

“This is survival gear, and most of it is irrelevant to us,” Izuku said. He held up a waterproof Ziploc bag the size of a pair of bricks, or a clutch purse. “This is a field kit. There’s a lot of redundancy between the two, but this is what we’re focused on.” He began emptying the bag. “Knife, multi-tool, disposable lighter, fire steel, three waterproof bags, thirty water purification tablets, a Ziploc of fire tinder, flat packed duct tape, three gallon-sized Ziploc bags, a spool of paracord, roll of electrical tape, zip ties, zip cuffs, small first aid kit, just for bumps and scrapes, alcohol wet wipes, baby wipes, liquid skin, poison oak/ivy cream, four bungee cords, three aluminum tent stakes, tube of crazy glue, sharpening stones in fine, medium, and coarse, a sewing kit, safety pins, thirty feet of thirty-pound fishing line, a couple of large needles, and a foraging guide. This is the stuff that turns you into MacGyver. It’s mostly for repairs, but, obviously, it can be used in other ways. With a few add-ons, it’s a short-term survival kit, and it’s great for making traps. We should never be in a week-long or longer survival situation. We’re gonna learn what to do anyway, but this should serve our needs for now.”

He then gave some examples of what usage he’d found online for each item, taking questions along the way.

“Are we ever even going to carry a rucksack?”

“Maybe,” Izuku shrugged, “but it’s reasonable to assume you’ll carry a backpack at some point. And Mustard has that air tank; if those straps break, he’s fucked. We should all know how to repair them in the field; a quick stitch with the fishing line, and boom, good enough to get you home.”

“I’m not going to need a fire starter,” Dabi sneered.

“Good,” Izuku replied, his wide grin obvious even under his mask, “I’m glad you’ve mastered control of your temperature. I was a little worried, as I’ve only seen you do blue flames, and those are way too hot to be useful in most cases. That’s a relief, actually.”

Dabi growled and accepted the kit.

Finally, Izuku demonstrated thirty-three basic signs and the numbers one through ten. “But today I only need you to memorize ‘freeze’.  Super simple, hold your fist up, elbow at a more or less right angle. It is an all-stop. Stop moving, stop talking. Be alert, but still.”

“That’s a lot for one ity-bity sign.”

“It is basically shorthand for ‘oh shit, I think the enemy spotted us,’” he agreed.

 

During the thirty-minute break, Dabi was bullied into recording a backlog for TikTok. He sat on a crate with his back to the bare brick wall and the phone recording in his hands as he sifted through popular sound clips to use. He didn’t end up landing on any, but Izuku was pleased nonetheless when the raw footage was chucked at him.

“Thank you!”

“Fuck off.”

Magne shook her head. “I wish he’d do the bare minimum at least. The rest of us are.”

“No, this is good,” Izuku said.

Dabi stopped in his tracks and half turned to listen.

“Sure, it’ll take more editing, but it’s a capsule of his personality. Look,” he showed her a section where Dabi was bobbing his head along with thirty seconds of a song. When it ended, he called it a bop, “he’s doing his own thing, his own way, and that’s beautiful.”

She nodded as the video continued. He would call something trash with a disgusted look on his face, or tilt his head and declare it mid. “As long as it’s content, huh?”

Izuku shook his head. “Anything is content, the important thing is that he’s being true to himself, especially in such an intimate way. I couldn’t plan this, couldn’t script it, it’s that good. He’s already a pretty face, and the whole broody emo dick is a type, but this. He’s going to make a real connection with the audience. And I didn’t have to drag him there kicking and screaming.”

She smirked. “Our social media director has never been more proud.”

“And you are all only going to improve from here.”

 

Mustard was in charge of the thirty minutes of firearms training. He opted to start with a safety briefing, likely paraphrased from his father. “So, um. In true League style, I’m going to boil this down as much as possible so even the stupidest idiot can understand. Basic firearm safety rules are as follows: Treat all firearms as if they are loaded. Keep your finger off the trigger until you have decided to kill someone. Don’t point it at anything you don’t want dead. Know your target and environment before you shoot. Always keep the gun unloaded until ready to use.”

He went over the basic features of the handguns Giran had provided them. Safety, hammer, trigger, magazine and magazine release, grip, front and rear sights, slide and slide stop, barrel, and disassembly lever.

“Small caliber firearms are inexpensive to buy, inexpensive to feed, easy to master, gentle on recoil, and above all, easy to conceal. Eighteen thousand incidents cataloged by the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office prove pretty conclusively that people don’t like to be shot, and they will stop whatever it was they were doing – like attacking you – to avoid being shot again. One or two shots, even if they aren’t well placed, will be enough to incapacitate or kill someone. In a well-placed shot? A small caliber is preferred. It’s less messy and kills more efficiently. Smaller calibers tend not to over-penetrate. Over-penetration causes nearby people or properties to be damaged or, you know, killed. The CIRO and other experts have declared that stopping power is a myth and shot placement is paramount. Street thugs and hit men agree with them. With its low recoil and high capacity, the twenty-two is ideal. It has the power to enter the skull but not to leave it, so it’ll ricochet around, scrambling your brains.”

“So what do we need quirks for?” Dabi asked sardonically.

“We’re not always trying to kill people,” Mustard retorted.

Izuku patted him on the back. “Well done.”

They spent the rest of the time looking over the weapons, getting a feel for them, and picking Mustard’s brain.

 

During the forty-minute break, Kurogiri brought them food, both a veritable feast for dinner and a cache of shelf-stable bentos to see them through the day.

“Think we can get a mini fridge?”

“No, but I’ll look into more permanent housing later tonight. I wanna see it with my own eyes before we commit.”

Izuku chuckled. “I thought that was just going to stay as a pipe dream.”

“Nah, I like the idea of a top hero agency as a front for our secret lair,” Tomura replied. “Besides, if everyone has their own space, it’ll mean fewer problems. I know sharing a hobo camp in a musty warehouse isn’t ideal.”

“It’s just a lot of money,” Izuku said. “And I know it was my idea, but…”

“Relax. I won’t make you pay for the whole thing and then squat in your basement. This is why I want the League to make money. Rent, or co-ownership, or whatever.”

“Yeah, cool. I kinda want to do some investing, too.”

“It’s your money.”

“Yeah. That’s so weird.”

 

For sparring, Izuku quickly divided them into groups. Dabi, Mustard, Compress, and Spinner were his main focus, while he let Kurogiri train the other four. Mustard and Compress were neither skilled fighters nor particularly enthusiastic about the prospect.

Izuku set Dabi and Spinner up to spar with each other for the first ten minutes. The pair both had brutal, heavy-hitting styles and were fairly evenly matched without quirks.

He began teaching Mustard and Compress how to throw a basic punch, use their elbows and knees, as well as front kicks, sidekicks, and round kicks. 

For the next ten minutes, he had them spar while he worked with Dabi and Spinner on footwork and speed training.

“Good job,” Izuku said, patting Spinner on the back.

“Really? I spent more time on my back than fighting.”

“Sure, but you got better each time, and Dabi has way more formal training than you do. He’s got more formal training than I do.”

“So why are you training him so much?”

“His training is from a style that doesn’t suit his body type. While it will pay dividends in a fight to throw off an opponent, he needs to mask it first. That’s all I’m teaching him, a second style. He’ll pick it up quickly, as a lot of the basics are already covered. It’ll be the same with Magne when her ribs are healed. It’ll be nice having more people who can lead the training so everybody can get some one-on-one.”

“Do you really think we can pull this off?”

“Yeah. I know we’re punching above our weight class, but every success will spread the message: the hero commission is not unassailable. A snowflake becomes an avalanche.”

 

During the fifty-minute break, Tomura had Kurogiri warp him and Izuku to the property they were thinking about buying: a seven-thousand-square-foot overgrown vacant lot and a crumbling three-story parking structure.

Izuku gave a quick tour despite it being his first time on the lot. “So, I would try to keep the trees, but I think the one or two closest to the stairs will have to come out.”

“These stairs are super slippery,” Tomura commented as they descended the full flight of weathered concrete steps.

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of stale water hit him. “It’ll take some doing to get it livable.”

“This will make for a good office space,” Tomura commented, looking around the wide landing. After about fifteen feet, it narrowed into a hallway that joined the concourse to form an ‘L’. The tile was chipping and cracking. Moss and mold were growing in every crevice. 

Izuku nodded. He pulled one of the bathroom doors open to check the size. “If we make one of the bathrooms unisex, the other could be turned into a break room with a kitchenette.”

Tomura gave a low whistle when he saw the small station concourse and shopping center. It was fifteen feet wide and seventy-five feet long. In addition to the small ticket booth and busted ticket machines, defunct turnstiles were fencing off the main area. There was a small arrangement of metal benches on this side. The central feature was the empty elevator shaft, flanked by a pair of escalators. Either side of the area was flanked by little ten to twenty foot wide twenty-five foot twenty-five-foot-deep units, some with abandoned and rotting storefronts still in them.

 “This area would make for a decent gym,” Kurogiri said. He opened a warp gate to the lower area. “Despite the track, it is spacious.”

Without including the track, the lower level was twenty feet wide and ninety feet long. The track extended another fifteen feet on either side before the tunnel was bricked up.

“Good,” Tomura said. “There’s enough room for a bar, and I want everyone to have their own room and maybe some guest quarters.”

“But –”

“I’m not saying you can’t sleep with Kurogiri. I just think you should have a space. Do with it what you want.”

“Okay,” he agreed hesitantly. “I mean, there are three of us; we could probably use the storage space.”

“Sure. So, this is a lot of space for three hundred and seventy million yen. There’s space here to do some manufacturing, or install some… thing if we need it.”

“Ten percent for the down payment would be thirty-seven million yen. I’ve got maybe a third of that.”

“And we’ll need materials to renovate,” Kurogiri said. “I’m sure Sensei would –”

“No,” Tomura snapped. “We’re doing this ourselves. This is literally what we’re building income for. We don’t –”

Tomura stopped when Izuku held up his hand. “It needs to be untraceable. If we get caught, we can’t have this little fly-by-night operation cost him his empire. We’re going to do a lot of … risky things. Some distance is necessary for his protection.”

Kurogiri furrowed his brow. He knew that Izuku was right, but something was off about the way he said it. “Love? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he replied, easily, to the casual observer, but there was a concern in his eyes that spoke volumes to the pair with him. He turned and gestured at the old shop spaces. “Do, do we want to start getting measurements?”

“Stray,” Kurogiri said firmly.

He hunched his shoulders. Izuku stood frozen for a long moment before whispering, “You shut down.”

“What?”

“It’s not your fault,” he whirled around and held up his hands placatingly, “and I know you would never hurt Tomura, but… you can’t,” protect him from Sensei, “go against Sensei’s orders.”

“I protect Tomura Shigaraki.” Kurogiri puffed up subconsciously.

“I know,” Izuku replied quietly. “I’m not asking you to do anything else.”

“I can –”

“Drop it, okay?” Tomura said. “I want some independence.” He fidgeted, his fingers finally landing on the necklace. “He brainwashed you. And I know, it was necessary at the time, but Stray is right. You have mixed loyalty.”

“I am loyal to you.”

“Good.” Tomura patted his shoulder. “Don’t tell Sensei about this place, then.”

“As you wish,” he replied stiffly.

 

A little worn out, Izuku put on a YouTube video for the ten-minute first-aid training. “This is good for a start. We’ll get a lot more in-depth as we go.”

“Is there going to be a test?” Toga asked coyly.

“Yeah, I think it would be hilarious to get everyone certified. I mean, as much as we can with everyone’s criminal background and wanted status, of course.”

“This is bullshit,” Dabi interrupted. “That’s not even that much blood.”

Izuku nodded. “True. Most people could lose more than twelve ounces before having major problems. But the keyword there is most. That amount is set to be a universal standard, so a five-year-old and an adult are treated the same.”

“I guess.”

 

The hour-long break was welcomed by all. Kurogiri warped the four of them home for a nap. Tomura opted to play a video game on the couch.

Izuku changed in the bedroom. It was a simple change to his routine, but Izuku could feel Kurogiri and Toga’s eyes on him. Toga drank in the sight of him openly, appreciation for his chiseled body plain on her face. Kurogiri’s gaze was more subtle, as if he thought looking too much would spook him. Izuku hoped it took some sting out of their earlier conversation.

Once in his sleep pants, Izuku hopped onto the bed and made grabby hands at his boyfriend. Kurogiri lay down beside him, scooping the boy into his arms. Toga cuddled up behind him, and his shadow cocooned around them. Drifting particles of not-wet-but-not-dry mist filtered through, caressing every part of his shadow. 

“Love you,” Izuku said sleepily.

“Love you too,” Kurogiri replied easily. 

“Love you,” Toga echoed, with only a little hesitation.

Izuku shifted around until he was facing her and rolled over so she was between them. “Good.” He rested his head on her breasts.

“The worst part of this is that he’s just going to sleep,” she pouted.

“Do you want something more, Sweetheart?"

“What if I don’t?”

“Then we nap as scheduled.”

“I think I’d like that.”

Kurogiri gave an earthy chuckle.

“God, that’s hot,” Izuku muttered into her shirt.

“Maybe when you wake up, I’ll ride you until you pop like warm champagne.”

Izuku whimpered. “Hiki.”

“If you’re a good boy and take your nap.”

 

Spinner gathered up the garbage and took it out to the third nearest dumpster, while Mustard gathered their dirty dishes and put them in a box for Kurogiri to take and wash. Magne sorted her clothes into garbage bags to take to the Laundromat when it opened at six in the morning. She had agreed to wash her delicates with Compress’, as long as he let her sort them; ever the gentleman, he agreed. The thought of actually having decent housing had sent them into a rush of cleaning, as much as one could clean the filthy warehouse they were squatting in. While Twice had his own place, most of them were too young or wanted to have a permanent address. Even Dabi was helping Twice sweep and clear the clutter in the common area.

 

Toga slipped between the League members as they attempted to step silently.  “Good job, Compress. Magne, middle of your foot. Fourth toe first and roll down slowly. Mustard, that’s the right form, keep doing that until it's second nature.”

“My thighs are burning,” Magne complained.

“That’s good, hold that.”

“For how long?”

“Until it stops hurting.”

“That is not how it works.”

“Until you can’t anymore.”

“Why?”

“We’re building muscles.”

“Again?”

“Sorry, everything is exercising.”

“We’re almost done, guys,” Izuku said. “You’ve done well today.”