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Chapter Text

Izuku is a plain looking kid. Everyone could decide that by looking at him - if they ever even noticed him. A lot of people just write him off, a Quirkless kid doesn't take much effort to slip under their radar. Izuku could walk through a crowd and no one would look his way, not even once. Because in a world where the impossible was possible and heroes walk amongst them, Izuku was amazingly, painfully normal.

Izuku himself believed that he never had a Quirk for the longest time, but some things just didn't add up. Yes, people would ignore him, they've done it for so long that Izuku began to know the signs by heart. Yet, unless he actively made his presence known, no one showed those telltale signs. It was like he didnt exist to them.

It all clicked one day at the market. He'd been with his mom, grabbing groceries for the week. He peeked from the isle when he heard a commotion.

A man was at the counter, he had a gun. "Look, lady." The man growled, "I don't want no trouble, just give me all you have in that register and I won't shoot."

Izuku jolted when he realized it was a robbery. His shoulder knocked into a jar to jelly, it fell to the floor with a loud crash. The robber's head jerked to the sound, but his eyes never registered Izuku, not even once.

The revelation struck him with the force of a truck. This man heard the jar break, he saw the broken glass, but he didn't see Izuku. His hands were shaking, but this wasn't the time for fear. The robber still had the gun on the cashier - a nice looking lady with glasses. Deciding to test his theory a bit further, Izuku grabbed another jar behind him and tossed it to the other end of the store. It collided with the soup display. Dozens of cans crashed to the floor. The robber jumped at the noise, a shot rang out.

Dust crashed down from the ceiling as a bullet embedded itself into the tiles. Izuku had rushed forward, pushing the man's hand away from the cashier. He put so much force into it, the gun had clattered out of the man's hand and onto the floor. He stared at the weapon, unsure of what he should do next. He didn't have the time to, because the robber grabbed him by the back of the neck.

"Where the hell did you come from?!" The robber sounded about as panicked as Izuku felt. "Huh, punk?! Where!?"

Policemen burst through the front door, their guns drawn on the man. "Police! Hands up in the air!." They didn't mention Izuku. Didn't even notice him. He freed himself from the man's grip and rushed back to his mom, who'd been ushered outside by some other officers.

"No, you don't understand!" She cried, clutching an officer's sleeve. "My son- he's still in there! You have to let me through!"

"Ma'am," The officer said, "You have to remain calm."

Izuku walked right past him, sliding under the tape and running to his mom. "Mama!"

His mom's eyes widened, she let go of the cop's sleeve and dropped to her knees. "Izuku!" He threw himself into her arms. "Oh, my baby boy, where did you go?"

He looked into his mom's eyes. "Mom," He said, wonder replacing any of the fear he'd felt moments ago. "I think I have a Quirk."

-----

Izuku had dubbed his Quirk "Notice Me Not". It'd made sense in his head, nobody knew he was there until he said something or made contact with someone. It seemed that it didn't really effect his mom much - Izuku wondered about that. It could have been due to extended contact, or their blood relation. Either way, his mom knew he was there whenever he walked into a room, everyone else didn't.

It wasn't a flashy Quirk, or a particularly strong one, but at the age of ten, Izuku had a lot of creativity at his disposal. He tested his limits. He could go an entire day with no one even looking at him, it was like he was invisible. As a kid with a history of bullies, his Quirk might as well have been a blessing.

He always knew if the teacher was planning a pop Quiz. He knew everyone's birthday (and that they never even considered inviting him to their parties). He knew almost every detail of his classmates, all from being a fly on the wall.

Another thing he noticed about his Quirk was that if he interacted with a object, say, tipping his pencil over, people would notice the fallen pencil, but not him. The benefits of that in heroism were great. He didn't have the power to be an all offensive-type hero, like All Might, but he did have potential as some kind of reconnaissance hero. He could gather information on criminals just by walking past them. People, Izuku found, were a lot more loose lipped when they thought no one else was listening.

Another thing was that though people didn't notice him, animals did. Maybe something about him was calming to them, but animals just seemed to flock to him. He tried testing it at an adoption shelter once. He went to the shyest cats - the ones that never came close, just stared at people with narrow, untrusting eyes.

He came face to face with a middle aged tomcat - one that was missing an ear and a good chunk of the fur on his face. The feline hissed at Izuku at first when he poked a finger through the bars of the cage. Izuku retracted the digit. "Hey, it's okay." He said, keeping his voice as soft as he could manage. He read the information listed at the top of the cage. "People can be really man, can't they?" He asked, "They always make fun of me, but I think you got it a lot worse."

The cat's single ear flicked in interest. And while it didn't stop growling, it did lighten up a little.

"The paper says you're name is Uno," Izuku put his finger back in the cage, a silent offer. "I think that's a bit too cruel, how about Han, instead?" Which was also a bit cruel, since Izuku got the name from Han Solo. But it was better than nothing. Izuku felt a surge of achievement when Uno - now dubbed Han in Izuku's mind - crept forward to hesitantly bump Izuku's finger with his head.

It felt a lot like victory.

He reached for his phone, he had a feeling mom would like a heads up to a new addition to the family.

-----

After getting Han situated in the house, time seemed to blur. Izuku managed to pass through school with little disturbance. It was hard for bullies to cause trouble when they couldn't find him, and Izuku had become an expert of hiding in plain sight.

Sitting at the desk in his room, Izuku pushed Han away from his math homework. Underneath all that hissing and growling was a pretty cuddly cat. Who knew. Han didn't initially like being denied his favorite spot, but did eventually settle and drape himself over Izuku's neck like a scarf.

Izuku could feel Han's purr through the vertebrae of his neck. It made him loosen up as he finished his homework. After a stressful day, he could always rely on the cat for relaxation. Which was something he was in dire need of lately.

Izuku stared at the slip of paper in front of him. The teacher had handed these out, asking for everyone to put their high school of choice and turn them in tomorrow. Everyone and their mother in his class was going to put down some sort of hero school, but only Bakugou would put down UA. Maybe because no one else had any faith in their abilities, or that the blond had terrified everyone out of choosing it.

But Izuku hadn't been scared of Bakugou since he'd learned how to use Notice Me Not. He pencilled down his school of choice with bold letters, here's hoping that Bakugou didn't kill him for it.

-----

In the end, Bakugou didn't kill him, but Izuku almost wished he did.

The day had started like it always did: Izuku walked into class, no one even looked his way. The teacher called role - one of the few times in the day that anyone noticed him. Math class started, not one of Izuku's favorite classes, but not every period of the day could be dedicated to doodling. All in all, it seemed like it'd be any other day, but then everyone had to hand in their high school application forms.

Izuku had tuned them all out, instead doodling a group of his classmates throwing paper at each other. His drawing skills had gotten a lot better since he started using people as references. He'd been busy doodling the crinkles in the ball of paper when the teacher's voice snapped him out of it.

"Midoriya, you wrote down that you were planning on attending UA too, right?"

Like that, everyone was suddenly aware that Izuku was sitting at the very back of the class. He could see Bakugou fuming in his desk and had already braced himself for the oncoming shit-show.

As the blonde kicked down his desk and stalked towards Izuku, the green haired teen wished Han was with him. The grumpy tomcat - for all of his hissing and growling - was rather protective. Bakugou never did try to test his Quirk on animals, and Han could be _scrappy._ Izuku managed to keep from flinching when the blond slammed a hand on the desktop, but couldnt find it in himself to look up. It was best to treat Bakugou like an aggressive dog, making eye contact would only make it worse.

"You think you can enter the hero course, eh, Deku?" The blond growled. Izuku stood his ground by, ironically, still sitting in his seat. "Look at me when I'm speaking, you fucking coward."

Bakugou actually had a point on that one. Izuku had spent every moment since learning of his Quirk hiding from the people that caused him trouble. Dull clothes and a hushed voice did wonders for going days unnoticed by the bullies. Izuku was a coward, because he was too scared of people to let them know he was there. Maybe one day he'd get there, be unafraid and announce that he existed. Maybe one day he'd even stand up to Bakugou.

That day wasn't today. Izuku kept his eyes glued to the doodle of All Might he'd put on the desktop months ago. He'd meant for it to help him rack up enough courage to answer a question, but it served as a great way to anchor himself in the sea of rage that was Bakugou. The teacher had to draw the line at physical harm...right?

Mercy seemed to smile on him that day, because the bell ringed before the blond could get any angrier - though Izuku wasn't sure if that was possible. Bakugou still had to grab his backpack, which he'd left at his overturned desk. In the time he took to grab it, Izuku could activate Notice Me Not and get out of there-

Aaaand one of the other bullies brought the bag with him. Great. Just...great. Izuku had three choices : run and jump through the window, somehow shove his way through the steadily crowing crowd of bullies, or hunker down and take it. Number one would most certainly result in a broken bone, number two would get him punched, and number three - while unpleasant - had the least likely chance of bodily harm.

It was going to be one of those days, wasn't it. Still, even with the looming threat of the bullies, Izuku kept his eyes forward. He could get through this. He could, he just had to hold on.

"You really still think you can be a hero, Deku?" Bakugou asked, though it was more rhetorical than an actual question. If Izuku answered, the blond would get angrier, if he didn't, the blond would still get angry. There was no winning when it came to Bakugou. "You're just a Quirkless loser, you'd die in the exams."

Izuku had never bothered telling the class about Notice Me Not. Partly because they wouldn't believe him, but mainly because telling them about it would reduce it's effect drastically. So he'd let everyone assume he was Quirkless, it made it easier to fade into the background when no one gave him the time of day.

When Izuku didn't reply, Bakugou's palms began to spark. "Fucking answer me, Deku." The blond threatened.

Izuku looked up, but he focused on Bakugou's nose instead of his eyes. "Why? You're going to get mad no matter what I say." Shit, he hadn't meant to say that.

Bakugou kicked Izuku's desk over. Izuku clutched at his notebook a bit tighter. "What was that, you fucknugget?"

Fucknugget? Bakugou was getting pretty creative. "Nothing." The pit in Izuku's stomach widened into a void when the blond snatched his notebook out of his hands.

"And what the fuck is this? One of your dumbass hero books?"

"It's for school." Izuku tried to explain, but petered off when Bakugou exploded the cover and tossed it out the open window.

"If you want be a hero so bad," Bakugou sneered, grabbing Izuku's shirt and drawing him dangerously close. The hem of his shirt began to smoke. "Here's a suggestion on how to get a Quirk: take a swan dive off the roof and pray you'll have one in the next life." Satisfied, the blond dropped Izuku back into his seat.

Izuku shriveled under the jeers the other bullies began to throw at him. He held his breath until the last one left the room. Izuku had always preferred it when he was alone, no risk of anyone noticing him - as improbable as it was. He waited until he could hear the front door to the school open before standing up on shaking legs.

His notebook was in the koi pond, one that he often hanged out around when finishing up homework. The koi were nibbling at the soggy cover of the paper, and scattered when Izuku reached in to take it out. Just his luck, Izuku had his math notes in there. With a sigh, Izuku clutched the notebook to his chest and began to journey home.

"Here's hoping the day doesn't get any worse." He muttered, right before going through the usual tunnel.

-----

It was official, the universe hated Izuku, with a passion. He decided this as he walked home from one the the craziest and most depressing days of his life. He got his notebook ruined, ran into his idol, discovered said idol is apparently a skeleton in reality, and had his dreams shot down. Maybe they all had a point, what can a hero do to help when all he can do is go unnoticed? He really was useless.

There was the sound of explosions a block away, the vibrations shook the ground. His first instinct was to go and look, do analysis like he always had. The option was torn from him when he heard some of the things the onlookers were saying.

"Man, that kid has some Quirk..."

"Yeah, but isn't he just a student?"

"None of the heroes are helping him..."

Goddamnit. Izuku swallowed and turned the block. His brain shorted out when he spotted Bakugou struggling in the slime that he himself had barely escaped. Several things were on fire, but the blond's rage was a blaze that made Izuku take a step back. For a brief moment, Bakugou's mouth was free, he spent the moment gasping for a precious lungful of oxygen. The villain was trying to smother him, like it had tried with Izuku.

Heroes were standing to the side, keeping civilians a safe distance away and putting out fires, but not helping Bakugou. The human body could go about three minutes without air before passing out, up to seven minutes would be when brain damage started to set in, and ten meant full brain death. Bakugou was exerting himself trying to get out, that shortened his timeframe drastically. Someone had to act. 

The heroes didn't try to stop him as he broke ranks from the crowd, they only noticed him once he was three quarters to the villain.

"Where did he come from?!"

"Kid, don't! You'll get killed!"

Izuku couldnt do anything to the slime, but parts of the villain were solid. Slipping off his backback, he spun and threw it - a Hail Mary, one that he prayed would work. Wonder of wonders, the bag collided with the villain's eye, making him startle and release his hold on Bakugou's mouth.

Everything after that came as a blur of adrenaline and half formed memories. He'd tried to dig Bakugou out, that much Izuku could remember, but he'd ended up failing at that. It was only by some sick coincidence that All Might had also been in the crowd and stepped in. The heroes were praising Bakugou now, crowding him and complimenting his Quirk. A few of the heroes, namely Kamui Woods and Deathgoro, had tried to find Izuku and chew him out for "reckless behavior", but he was already gone, slipping away with the help of both Notice Me Not and the crowd of onlookers.

He was almost home and his hands still hadn't stopped shaking. "Great job, Izuku." He muttered to himself, "Why not risk your life for Bakugou, that's a great idea." Even as the words came out of his mouth, he knew that he didn't mean them. Bully he may have been, but Bakugou didn't deserve to die.

There was the sound of incoming feet, then a cloud of dust as a figure ran out from one of the other streets. It was All Might. The hero had been in the middle of saying "I am here!" When he poofed into his skeleton form and coughed out another mouthful of blood.

Izuku remembered seeing the hero doing this earlier, but still found himself worrying. "Are you okay?" He asked, taking a step forward but refraining from making physical contact.

All Might wiped the blood off with a hand. "Yes, I'm fine, my boy." He put his hands on his hips. "That's some Quirk you've got there, kid, I didn't even notice you were gone until Kamui Woods mentioned it to me."

"Ah, well..." Izuku scratched his head. No one had complimented his Quirk before. Ever. "That's the perk of it, I guess." The silence that followed after that was painful for both of them. "Uh, is there any reason you followed me?" Another question he could've asked was how the hero did that. The only person that could notice him from the get-go was his mom.

"You're probably expecting me to lecture you about being reckless." All Might began, "But that isn't the case. I'd like to thank you, my boy. You rushed in to help, and in doing so, inspired me to as well."

"But, All Might, I didnt think about any of that. I just...moved."

"There are a lot of stories about the origins of heroes," All Might said, "but they always say that their body moved without thinking. I didn't follow you just to thank you, I came to tell you that I was wrong - you have the potential to become a hero, a great one."

The words threw Izuku for a loop, if he wasn't so busy trying to process it, then maybe he would have began to cry.

"And that is why I have chosen you to inherit my power, should you accept it."

What.

Chapter Text

If you ever ask Izuku what hell is, he'll say the beach.

Not the beach that everyone thinks of - with pure sand and waves lapping gently at the shores. No, his beach has towering piles of junk, the stench of rotting wood, and the overhanging threat of tetanus pretty much everywhere.

All Might had told him that cleaning up the beach was excellent training for One for All, and Izuku did notice that he was gaining muscle mass, but that didn't stop him from hating that strip of sand with every ounce of his being.

If there's one benefit to any of it, Izuku decides that it's the seagulls. A lot of them lost their homes when trash started to wash up on the shores, and Izuku feels no small amount of triumph when he sees the birds exploring the few clean patches of sand he had created.

It's a weekend today, meaning that Izuku arrives at the beach at seven in the morning. He stretches for ten minutes and gets to work. He starts with a fridge he'd been in the middle of moving the day before. The junk is twenty feet from it's original position, but Izuku still needs to move it a hundred more. He's at the ten foot marker when he spots a familiar head of blond hair.

"All Might!" Izuku says, stopping his progress and standing straight. "What are you doing here so early?"

All Might blinks, the effect of Notice Me Not dissolving. "Ah, there you are." He says, waving as he comes closer. "I could ask you the same thing, my boy, don't you have friends to hang out with?"

"Well..." Izuku begins, drawing the word out as he avoids eye contact. "I don't really have many of those - I don't have any, actually."

The silence that comes from the hero makes Izuku want to dig a hole and hide in it. "And why's that?"

Izuku wants to gesture to himself and demand "Have you seen me?" But at this point he just wants to drop the matter. "I never really clicked with any of them, I guess." Not a lie, but not the truth.

All Might hums, "Well, you're not alone. Back in my school days it took me a while to find friends."

"But you're..." Izuku struggles to find a fitting word, "you!"

At that, All Might barks out a laugh. "I wasn't number one hero from the start, my boy. I had my share of screw-ups and mishaps." He leans in close, like he's about to share a secret, "To be honest, I never made any real friends until high school - but the ones I made are still my friends to this day." He pats Izuku's shoulder, Izuku stomps on the urge to leap three feet in the air. "You'll find your group, my boy, just give it a bit more time."

Izuku doubts it. He can't even muster a hello to his teacher on good days, how was he supposed to make any friends like that? He's awkward, he's shy, he never says anything. He was going to be the outcast the rest of his life. He doesn't say this aloud, he just smiles and nods like he agrees.

He spends a solid five hours on the beach today, and he makes pretty good progress, too. The fridge is moved, so are a few old couches whose wood is already halfway rotten. A new path of sand is visible, at least twenty by twenty feet. Izuku feels pretty proud of himself every time he looks at it.

All Might claps his hands when Izuku finishes moving the last piece of furniture. "Good job, my boy. That's it for today."

Izuku wants to protest - he can keep this up for at least another hour - but a stern look from the hero is all it takes for him to give in. "Yes, sir."

"None of that 'sir' crap, my boy. Now come on, you haven't eaten lunch yet."

-----

Months go by like this, and all Izuku had to say about those months is thank god for Han. The cat serves as an excellent heating pad when his muscles ache too much to move. He's been following All Might's work out plan to the tee, and a bit more than that.

Which was probably why he was now having an intimate encounter with the ground. He was following All Might (who was on a Segway, for some reason) when his legs gave out on him and he got a mouthful of dirt. Even though his face is starting to sting, Izuku finds relief in the unplanned break from the training.

"Hey, get up, my boy." All Might says, turning around and rolling back to where Izuku lays. "That workout plan was specifically made for you, if you're this burned out...you've been overdoing it, haven't you?" It's more an accusation than a question. "Kid, if you push yourself too hard then you won't make any progress."

Izuku can feel the shame boiling at the back of his throat. "I-" his voice gives out and frustration overcomes exhaustion. "I can't...relax. Everyone applying to Yuuei's got an amazing Quirk they can use, and I- I only use mine to hide from my classmates." He forces himself to look up, straight into All Might's eyes. "I can't let myself fall behind. So, I have to work harder than everyone else!" Maybe then Izuku can convince himself to stop using Notice Me Not so often. "I'll never be able to let people know I'm there if I'm not strong enough to back it up." Strong enough to protect himself from anyone who wants to mess with him.

All Might is silent, and Izuku worries for a moment that this was it, the hero was going to take back his offer, but he just hops off the Segway and poofs into his hero form. Izuku doesn't have the energy to protest when All Might picks him up from the ground. He's been running on fumes for the last three days.

"You've got the drive, my boy." The hero says, placing Izuku back on his feet. "But you have to let your body rest. No training for three days - relax, let your muscles recover." All Might tries to let Izuku stand on his own, but ends up having the teen lean on him as they make their way to Izuku's apartment.

The three days following that are peaceful, mind-numbingly so. Izuku wakes up, goes to school, comes home, does his work, goes to bed. His body's itching to go and do something, anything would be better than scrolling through the All Might forums for the twentieth time that day. Han's curled up on his shoulders, purring up a storm as he kneads his paws into the fabric of Izuku's shirt. Izuku doesn't know what he would do without the cat.

It's on the afternoon of the second day that Izuku decides to go out. Maybe he'll find a hero fight to watch, his analysis notes were put on the back burner to train, and his newest notebook has been painfully empty for weeks. One problem: Han wants to come along.

"Han," Izuku groans, trying to slip out the door but being blocked by the stubborn cat. "You can't come."

Han doesn't give up. Izuku does.

"Fine," he says, picking the cat up and placing him on his shoulder. Han lets out a smug meow, adjusting himself to curl around Izuku's neck and cling to the shirt. Izuku opens the door and the two of them head out.

It's a bit harder to be inconspicuous with Han clinging to him, but Izuku manages. The cat was content to observe from his place on Izuku's shoulders, his tail tapped Izuku's collarbone in a happy rythim.

The path Izuku and his little freeloader take goes through all the major business areas in the city. Most crimes are committed near banks or stores, robberies more than outright malicious attacks on the public. Izuku manages to walk an hour with no hero activity. Not even a newbie hero on patrol. The whole experience was almost as mind numbing as the All Might fan pages. If there's anything good to come out of this so far, it's the people-watching. So far, Izuku's seen a group of fellow middle schoolers put an entire pack of mentos into a two liter bottle of soda, a man accidentally set fire to his menu, and a boy fall flat on his face while trying to flirt with a girl.

He's considering turning in for the rest of the day when he hears the distant cheers of a crowd. There's a pillar of fire rising above the city's buildings, it doesn't take much detective work to know which hero it is. The only hero in the city with a fire Quirk that strong is Endeavor. Even though Izuku's been looking for a fight to watch, he finds himself hesitating. Fights that involve Endeavor mean a lot of collateral damage, and with Han still purring happily on Izuku's shoulders, collateral wasn't something he wants to risk.

Another pillar of fire goes up, as does the volume of the crowd.

Izuku sighs. He'll just keep a firm grip on Han. Gently cupping the cat's head in his palm, Izuku sets out for the fight.

The crowd he'd heard a few blocks back is massive, people craning their necks to see the number two hero in action. Izuku, whose grip tightens on his cat, manages to slip past a good number of the onlookers to get a decent view.

Endeavor's opponent has a mutation Quirk, giving him the characteristics of a bear. Yes, the villain is fighting Endeavor with actual bear hands. Izuku takes his notebook out and begins to write, careful to balance Han on his shoulder and make sure that the cat stays situated.

Which was why when he felt Han's weight leave his shoulder his heart plummeted. Of all the times Han wants to explore, it's when there's a very likely chance of debris hitting him. The mental image alone has Izuku dropping his pencil and taking off after the retreating form of his cat. He was so scared of losing Han he even dropped Notice Me Not to physically push through the crowd. Yet no matter what, Han always stayed out of reach. Eventually, the cat stopped, but only to rub against the pant leg of a boy Izuku's age.

The boy looks down, his expression surprised but not angry. Red and white hair splits perfectly at the middle and blocks Izuku's view of the boy's eyes, but Izuku in the brief moment he'd seen them, He'd seen gray and bright blue.

"I am so, so sorry." Izuku says as he kneels down to scoop up his troublesome cat. Han is not bothered by this, but he does wriggle a bit to face the other boy. "He just ran off and I tried to catch him - I don't even know if you're allergic to cats-"

The other boy, who'd been watching Han with an indescribable expression, raised a hand to get Izuku to shut up. "It's fine." The boy says, his voice soft enough to be barely heard over the final sounds of the fight. "I'm not allergic, anyways."

Han, the traitorous cat, cranes his neck to beg for a scratch under the chin. Miracle of miracles, the other boy obliges. Izuku can't remember the last time Han has been this friendly with anyone aside from him and his mother.

"Ah, well, that's good- that you're not allergic, I mean." God why can't Izuku just die. And the boy was still petting Han, so it wasn't like Izuku could activate Notice Me Not and get the hell out of dodge.

Izuku realizes he'd zoned out when the boy gives him a strange look. "Are you okay?"

"Yes?" Izuku squeaks out, his grip on Han tightening a bit. "S-sorry, I zoned out, what did you say?"

"I asked why you're here with your cat." The boy still hasn't stopped petting Han.

"Well he, uh, he wouldn't let me leave without him." Which sounds really weak, even to Izuku. At this point just getting swallowed up by the ground was looking really good.

"You're cat," the boy says slowly.

"He can be very stubborn." Izuku confirms with a nod. The silence that follows next has Izuku hitting eject and escaping the conversation. "Well, I should probably go feed him. He gets cranky when he's hungry." Izuku conveniently ignores the fact that Han is purring up a storm, which the other boy could definitely hear. Izuku whips around and starts to walk off. It's only after he's a block away that he realizes two things: one, he'd left his pencil, and two, he'd never asked for the boy's name.

Loud and with a lot of feeling, Izuku says, "Fuck."

Han just purrs louder.

-----

Two days later, Izuku is allowed to go back to training. A few months later, and the day of the entrance exam is looming and Izuku can't find sleep. Han is curled up on his chest, rumbling in content as he breathed in and out. Since Izuku is pretty much stuck until Han decides to wake up and move, he stares at the ceiling, trying to calm his mind enough to fall asleep. He isn't sure when he actually does go to bed, all he can remember is closing his eyes and then his alarm was going off. Five o'clock, he has two hours before the entrance exams, and he still has to finish the last pile of debris lying on the beach.

He isn't too sure as to how he does it, but he does. The beach is clear, not a piece of trash in sight. Izuku stands on top of his pile and relishes in the feeling of success. He did it, he actually did it. He cleaned up this God forsaken beach in the nick of time. Which means that his training in preparation for One for All is officially complete. He doesn't realize that All Might is there until the hero catches him after he falls from the pile in exhaustion.

Everything that happens after that is a blur of pre-test jitters. Izuku can summarize it with this: he eats a hair, now he has a Quirk that could tear him apart. He's too nervous about the test to even worry about that last part as much as he should. He parts ways with All Might at the beach, making the journey to Yuuei on his lonesome. Staring up at the looming gates of the prestigious school, Izuku wishes that Han could be with him.

You can do this, he tells himself, straightening his back and marching in. You can do this-

His foot catches on air.

Fuck.

Izuku lets out a cry, closing his eyes and throwing his arms out to brace for impact. When the concrete never greeted his face, he opened his eyes. He was...floating...a handful of inches off the ground. He finds himself making a note that zero gravity feels weird when a voice speaks up next to him.

"Thank goodness I caught you in time." The voice is female, bubbly, and something that makes Izuku jump out of his skin. "I didn't even see you until you started to fall!"

Ah, his cry as he fell deactivated Notice Me Not. "Uh," He says lamely, trying to maneuver himself to face his rescuer. "T-thank you."

The girl who spoke a moments before is smiling now. She has light brown hair, shaped in a bob cut with longer strands framing her face. Izuku thinks that it suits her rather well. "No problem! It'd be bad luck to fall on your first day." She helps Izuku float to his feet before pressing her fingertips together and letting gravity take back it's hold on him. "I'm Uraraka Ochako!"

"I-" any chance of his voice actually working with him vanishes when he hears a familiar, dread inducing voice.

"Deku."

Izuku really does stiffen this time, and the time it takes for him to turn around feels like an eternity. Bakugou is standing right behind him, nose scrunched and eyes narrowed. "H-hi, Bakugou." Izuku says, he takes a step back - just in case the blond decides it's worth his time to singe Izuku's uniform.

Uraraka sticks herself between them, dissipating the underlying tension of the scene. "Is this a classmate of yours?" She asks.

Izuku can't from any words with the way Bakugou is glaring at him, so he just nods. In earlier years, Bakugou would just bully people into avoiding Izuku. By the time middle school came around, everyone had gotten the memo. Izuku isn't too sure if the blond will manage the same thing at Yuuei, but Izuku really doesn't want to see Uraraka straight up fight Bakugou. In a rush of stupid courage, he grabs Uraraka's arm and pulls her to the doors.

"You really don't wanna mess with him." Izuku tells her once they're in the safety of the entrance building. "He's- just don't." His hands are shaking. He realizes that he's still holding Uraraka's arm and drops it, a blush coating his cheeks. "Sorry."

The girl smiles, "It's okay, Deku!"

Izuku just barely suppresses his flinch at the nickname. "Ah, actually, my name is Midoriya Izuku. D-Deku's just something he calls me to make fun of me." He wants to kick himself for stuttering over the stupid insult, but Uraraka takes what he says in stride.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Her expression says that the words are genuine. "Just Midoriya then."

Izuku nods, "Yeah, just Midoriya." In spite of his nerves, he smiles. This is one of the first conversation he's had with someone his age that isn't ending with taunts or mean spirited comments - besides that boy from the hero fight, of course.

The bell rings, Izuku leaps at the sound. Uraraka laughs, but Izuku likes to think that she was laughing with him instead of at him. "We're gonna be late," She says, "come on, follow me!" She grabs his arm and starts to tug him away. Izuku, still a bit dazed from the fact that someone is being nice to him, follows along without complaint.

Maybe today will be good after all.

-----

Today is not good, today is definitely not good. Izuku curses his tendency to jinx himself as he runs in search of robots to fight.

Apparently, Notice Me Not doesn't work of mechanical objects, because the machines have no issue spotting him and singling him out. At least he's able to score a few points by grabbing a stray piece of robot debris and using it as a makeshift bludgeon. Even though Notice Me Not doesn't work on the robots, it still works on the other examinees. He's able to sneak up on more than one student and steal their points by dealing the finishing blow. It's a bit underhanded, but the only rules were to not hurt or directly manipulate other teens, so it's fair game.

He's reached about twenty robots, a few two-pointers, but mostly one-point bots. He has a total of twenty six points. Compared to how many people he's seen taking down bots left and right, he is sorely lacking. As the minutes go on, his anxiety grows. There aren't many enemies left, and the ones that are still standing are taken down faster than Izuku can reach them. He realizes that his points aren't nearly enough to pass when Present Mic tells everyone they're entering the last minute of the exam.

The pressure is on, and Izuku doesn't know if he's going to crumble or not. There's no more enemies, he has twenty six points, he's going to fail. Months of hard work, blood, sweat, and tears, and he was going to fail the exam. The beginnings of fear and shame begin to rise up in his throat like bile, but it's put on hold by the other test takers around him running away. The ground shakes, Izuku looks up just as a gargantuan robot peeks past the block. A metallic hand crushes the concrete of a high-rise building. Izuku stares in horror as everyone runs past him.

"H-help!"

The horror morphs into terror when he spots Uraraka Ochako - the nice girl from before the exams. Her ankle is trapped under rubble, and the zero-point bot is only getting closer. She'll be crushed if she doesn't get out. She'll die if no one does anything.

Izuku doesn't realize he's moving until he's already halfway to her. Once he's close enough, he assesses the situation. The block of concrete trapping her is propped up by some other pieces of debris, making a small cavity in which Uraraka's ankle is stuck.

The bot takes another earth shaking step.

He tries to lift the debris, no luck.

Another step.

He can't get her out.

The bot is now one more footstep from crushing the both of them.

If he can't get her out, he has to stop the bot. But how-

One for All.

It's new, something he's only had for a day - not even that. Yet it's all he has right now.

The robot makes the move for another step. Izuku is already airborne.

There really isn't a word to describe how it feels to have metal crumple under his fist. He's never been the kind of person to take pleasure in destruction, but the feeling that comes rushing in after the robot falls to the ground is nothing short of exhilaration. He did it, he actually did it. Someone needed his help and he saved them.

Then he sees his arm. Previously pale skin is now a mottled red and purple. His arm looks more like a bruised apple than an actual arm. Yet despite his limb being mangled, he isn't feeling any pain. There isn't a lot of time to worry about that, because he starts to fall. A fall from this height will result in more than a broken arm - and legs, he saw them flopping around uselessly out of the corner of his eye. For the sake of keeping his breakfast in his stomach, Izuku keeps it at a glance.

The ground is getting dangerously close now. If he uses One for All to break his fall, then he should be safe. Pro: getting to live. Con: he'll have all four of his limbs shattered. All of that and he still hasn't scored enough points to pass. 'He's fortifying himself for using One for All again when a hand slaps across his cheek. The feeling of zero gravity is familiar, and he's an inch from the street before it takes full effect and he starts to float around harmlessly.

Uraraka is lying on the broken head of a robot. "Release." She says, touching her fingertips together and having both Izuku and the robot thump to the floor. Unceremoniously, she bows her head and vomits.

"A-are you okay?" Izuku asks, his face smushed against the concrete street.

Uraraka coughs, spits, then looks to him. "Am I okay?" She repeats, "Midoriya, I should be asking that about you! Your legs look like ground meat!"

Izuku could have gone without that helpful description, but lets out a weak laugh anyways. "I guess the pain hadn't caught up with me yet." He says, grinning in spite of the beginning twinges of agony starting up. "Oh wait, there it is."

It's probably the post-adrenaline high, but Uraraka giggles, then she starts to laugh. Tired, Izuku joins in. A small crowd begins to form around them, and they're laughing like there's no tomorrow. It felt like that, back when Izuku had ran over to help.

Izuku's consciousness fades to belly-laughs and concerned murmurs. Maybe it is a good day after all.

-----

The worst part about tests isn't the actual test itself - it's waiting for the results.

Izuku spends the day when his results should come back by taking a jog, feeding the seagulls at the beach, and watching tv with his mom, Han curled up on his lap and begging for attention. All the while, a looming sense of doom hangs over him. He'd only gotten twenty six points, and while that's better than no points at all, other students most definitely got more. Months of effort, of pushing his limits every single day, and he fails before he can even begin.

"Maybe they're right." He mutters to himself in the confines of his room. Han is in there with him, trying to swat at Izuku's pencil holder. "Maybe I just wasn't meant to be a hero."

Which means that he's disappointed himself, and more importantly, All Might. The first person to ever believe in him, and Izuku fails him. That thought alone is enough to catapult him into despair, but his descent is put on hold when his mom bursts through the door.

"Izuku- your letter!" It's true, in his mom's hand in an envelope. The sight of it sends a wave of nausea through Izuku.

He takes the letter from his mom and closes the door - he doesn't want her to see just how badly he failed. He puts it on his desk and stares at it. Inside was a piece of paper explaining that he'd been rejected from Yuuei's hero program. The question is whether or not Izuku's ready to hear it.

"It's like a band-aid." He whispers to himself, scratching Han's head when the cat comes over to him. "Might as well rip it off and get it over with."

The tear of the paper echoes through the room, and Izuku feels only confusion as he stares at a small device that had been in the envelope. He startles in his seat when the device lets out a beep and starts to glow. A projection is now above his desk, and Izuku's stomach does a somersault when he sees All Might on the screen.

"Midoriya, my boy!" The hero greets with a wave. Izuku finds himself waving back. The hologram splutters out when Han takes a swipe at it, Izuku grabs his cat and holds him in his lap, well out of swiping distance of the image of the teacher. "I have to apologize for not getting in touch sooner, I've been busy getting ready for the school year!"

Wait, that means-

"That's right, I'm now a teacher at Yuuei!"

Izuku feels faint.

The holographic All Might clears his throat. "But thats not why I'm recording this." The hero says, "I'm here to tell you about your test results." A screen pops up behind the hero. "Now, on your written exams, you did just fine - good work on that, by the way." The screen shifts to his practical score, a picture of his face with the number twenty-six on the right. "On your practical, you scored twenty-six villain points, which is not enough to pass."

Izuku hangs his head. He knew this was coming, the rejection. The only way he could feel any worse is if All Might outright says he's disappointed.

"However!" All Might gestures to his left, where another screen pops up. It's a video. Izuku watches as Uraraka walks into Present Mic's office.

"Um, excuse me?" She asks the vocal hero, fiddling with her fingers. "The boy who saved me, Midoriya Izuku, I heard him say he didn't have enough points to pass, is it okay if I give him some of mine?"

Izuku stares at the screen in shock. Uraraka tried to give him points? It must've been while he was in Recovery Girl's office, drinking a juice box and listening to the nurse lecture him on responsible use of his Quirk. He's only met Uraraka that day, and she'd already done a lot more than other people have. She kept him from falling on his way in, stood up to Bakugou, and stopped him from becoming a stain on the ground during the exam. She's already done so much, and she still wants to give him points. Izuku can feel tears prick at his eyes.

The video pauses and the camera shifts back to All Might. "You inspired this young girl with your actions. That's the work of a true hero! And while it's true that we were giving students points in correlation to their defeat of the villain bots, there was a secret point system: rescue points! Midoriya, your actions in saving miss Uraraka have given you sixty rescue points, making you the student with the most points total of the entire exam! It's my honor to welcome you to Yuuei for your hero academia!"

Izuku can feel the tears falling down his cheeks as the hologram vanishes. He didn't fail. He didn't fail. He passed. He got the highest score of all the participants. He's going to Yuuei.

He's a long way from his dream, but he's made the first step, and that's what matters in the end.

Chapter Text

Izuku sets the tone for his first day of school by sleeping through his alarm. If that's any indication, he's screwed.

The only reason he managed to get up at all was because of Han. The cat is adamant about being fed right before Izuku leaves for school, and he doesn't let his human's need for sleep get in the way of that. Izuku makes a note to get the cat a treat on the way home since Han's actions save him from missing first period.

"Okay," he mutters, staring at the door to class 1-A. "I can do this, I can get through the day without using my Quirk." Then he opens the door, sees Bakugou sitting at one of the desks, and throws Notice Me Not around him on instinct. He would say "great" with as much sarcasm as he could muster, but his lips have sealed themselves on their own accord. Talking means he'll be seen, and he really doesn't want to deal with the blond right now.

There's another classmate in the room, one with blue hair and glasses. Izuku recalls seeing him in the same test zone during the exams, but never got the chance to speak to him. Bakugou is talking to the blue haired teen, though "talking" might not be the right word for it.

"Oh, shut it, four eyes." The blond drawls, glaring at the boy through lidded eyes. Izuku admires the blue haired boy's courage to not cower under the glare. "Did your prissy school shove that pole up your ass, or were you just born with it?"

Way to make friends, Bakugou.

Izuku maneuvers around them, staying a minimum of two meters away and choosing a seat near the back as his own. It's next to the window, and Izuku relaxes at the sight of the blue sky and trees. Maybe he can vault out of the window if Bakugou ever sees him, it's only a first story drop. Unless the school invests in bullet-proof glass, but that doesn't seem likely. He watches the students outside file in through the gates and spots a familiar bobcut in the masses. His shoulders release a tension he didn't know he had. At least there's one person he knows besides Bakugou at the school.

The door opens again. Izuku looks up to see another teen walk in. Something about him's familiar, it only strikes Izuku after the boy takes a seat on the other end of the room. It's the boy that Han ran off to at the villain fight. The one that Izuku never got the name of. But Izuku doesn't have the courage to go over and reintroduce himself. Bakugou has only just began to stop yelling, and Izuku's nerves have yet to recover.

After that, the class fills up slowly but surely. Izuku watches every new student enough to get a base understanding of their personalities.

There's another blond one, but his hair isn't like Bakugou's, more like someone dumped yellow paint on his head. He's easygoing. His posture as he lounges in his chair is casual, like he doesn't have a care in the world. Izuku swears that he sees the blond's fingers spark with tiny bits of static. Maybe an electricity Quirk?

There's a girl with dark hair and earphone jacks for earlobes - not the strangest mutant-type Quirk Izuku's seen, but it's up there. She knows the static-blond, if the exasperated looks she sends him are any indication.

There's a boy with eight arms. A girl whose physical appearance reminds Izuku of a frog. A boy with...grapes on his head? Izuku resolves to not think on it too much and takes out his notebook to sketch. The frog-girl is at a good angle to doodle. He's so invested in getting the odd shape of her mouth right he leaps tree feet off his chair when someone addresses him.

It's Uraraka. She's standing right next to him and smiling. Izuku had been so zoned in on his notebook he hadn't seen her approach. "Midoriya, hi!"

You'll have to excuse Izuku for being a bit shocked. Years of only being seen when he wants to and she manages to see him from the get-go, just like his mom is able to. "Uh, h-hi, Uraraka." The words stumble out without grace. He's still caught up on how she got past Notice Me Not to care about it. "You got into class 1-A," He wants to wince at his stating the obvious but instead smiles. "I'm happy for you."

Uararaka grins, Izuku almost has to squint at the brightness of it. "You too! I was so worried after the exam, you know. I was gonna text you afterwards but-" her smile turns embarrassed- "I never really got your number."

"Oh, yeah." Izuku fumbles for his phone. "Here," He's about to hand her the device when a voice booms out from the front of the room.

"When the fuck did you get in here, fucking Deku?"

Izuku's mouth shuts with a clack as he looks to the angry blond. "I-I got in here after you did." He replies, trying his best to keep his voice from shaking. Everyone's eyes are on him and Bakugou, Izuku wants nothing more than to become one with his desk and vanish.

"And why the fuck are you in the heroics division?" The blond stalks closer, Izuku is now seriously considering his previous thought of leaping through the window. "A shitstain like you would have been smushed in the exams."

"That's not true!" Uraraka says, standing between Bakugou and Izuku. "He got in fair and square!" She turns to Izuku, "How many points did you get, anyways?"

Izuku begins to tap his fingers together, "Ah, well, without the rescue points? Twenty-six."

"And with them?"

Everyone is paying attention now. Izuku's voice grows tiny. "Eighty-six." He knows where the situation is heading before Bakugou can even do the math in his head. Izuku got almost ten points more than Bakugou, which both ensured him the spot as the highest placing examinee and a one-way ticket to hell via explosions.

Yet before that can happen, the door slides open, but no one is there opening it. Then Izuku peers over his desk and sees him.

There's a bright yellow sleeping bag inching along like a caterpillar. Izuku can't even wonder how the occupant of the sleeping bag opened the door before it unzips and a man stands up and steps out. His hair is shaggy, framing a narrow face adorned with a scruffy mustache and the beginning stubble of a beard. Izuku takes one look at the man and comes to three conclusions: that man is more tired than Izuku (an achievement on most days), he won't take any crap, and he's most likely their homeroom teacher.

"Everyone sit down." The man says, his voice is rougher than Izuku originally thought it would be. Izuku sags in relief when Bakugou retreats back to his desk in the front. Uraraka sits next to him, mouthing an "are you okay?" And is only satisfied when Izuku mouths back "Yes, thank you".

The teacher waits a moment for everyone to settle down before opening his mouth again. "Don't get too comfortable with your seats - we're going outside." The teacher heads for the door, making a halfhearted gesture to have the class follow him. Izuku sticks to Uraraka's side like glue as they all file out into the hallway. He keeps Bakugou in his sights, walking a deliberate twenty feet away and slowing down if the blond shows any sign of doing so as well.

They're on one of the sports fields now, Izuku can't even appreciate the gentle warmth of the sun shining on his skin - he's too busy wishing he had Han with him.

Their teacher - Aizawa - then tells them what they're all going to be doing. A Quirk apprehension test, where usage of Quirks is allowed and the lowest scoring applicant will be expelled. The universe loves to prove to Izuku that days can get worse, very much worse.

Izuku will be the first to tell you that his performance in those tests were abysmal. Notice Me Not is only good for when no one knows he's supposed to be there anyways, but with Aizawa announcing every participant, Izuku's Quirk is rendered useless. He could use One for All, but considering the last time he used it his bones resembled paste more than bones, maybe it'd be smart to refrain.

Even with the handicap of being unable to use either of his Quirks, Bakugou makes it worse. Izuku can feel the blond's eyes burning into his back, and it makes him slip up more than once.

He walks back to the group of students after yet another lackluster performance with the sincere desire to just die. He's hyper aware of every pair of eyes looking at him, and when he merges with the masses he closes his eyes and tries his best to activate Notice Me Not.

Years of use, he's learned, has made his sensitivity to Notice Me Not stronger, the sensation when it's activated is like a small undercurrent flowing around him - soft, but there. When he feels the telltale buzz, he relaxes and spectates.

The boy from the hero fight months ago was doing the pushups section. Izuku noted his form, one that spoke of years doing the exercise. Not a sweat was on the teen's head - even though everyone else doing the test alongside him are soaked. Maybe it's part of his Quirk. Izuku's heart feels like it's beating at a semi-normal pace now, so he finds Uraraka and taps her elbow. "Hi,"

She startles, letting out a loud "Eep!" And whirling to face him. Izuku can't help smiling at the reaction. "Midoriya, don't scare me like that!" She tells him, clutching her heart. "You just came out of nowhere!"

"It's a gift." He replies, but quickly grows awkward when he doesn't know what else to say. Why did he even touch her in the first place? He's been more than content to watch people form the side before, yet his body decided to move without a second thought to lower Notice Me Not for Uraraka. Maybe it works differently on people that have a good relationship with him? There was never a way to test that before, no one really tried to be his friend with Bakugou designating him as the resident punching bag of the class.

He's startled out of his musings when Aizawa says, "Midoriya, you're up for the softball toss."

Uraraka pats his back, "Good luck!" She tells him, "Though you probably won't need it."

Izuku smiles back weakly, "Yeah, thanks - for the good luck, I mean." He ducks his head and marches over to the teacher before he can dig the hole of his social life any deeper. He has to do good on this, or he'll be in 20th place and he'll fail. Izuku didn't spend ten months training and breaking three of his four limbs in the exam to get expelled on the first day. His hand is shaking when he takes the ball from the sleep-deprived teacher's hand.

He steps into the circle, takes a breath, and imagines Han is with him. It helps somewhat, even if he can feel the nineteen pairs of eyes on his form. In and out. Han is purring at his side, nuzzling into Izuku's side for head scratches. He can do this. What's a broken arm to his dreams?

He's building up the throw now, the hyperactive buzz of One for All is a stark contrast to Notice Me Not's calming thrum. His teeth are clenched as tight as they can be as he throws the ball - fully expecting his arm to become marinara meat sauce.

Which is why, when the ball falls harmlessly at five meters, he's confused.

"Look, kid." Aizawa says when Izuku turns to face him. "You can't go breaking bones every time you use your Quirk, no hero is a one-trick phony. If you can't find a way to keep moving after you use your Quirk, you'll be expelled."

Now Izuku recognized his teacher. A hero that works by night and avoids the public's attention: the erasing hero, Eraserhead. He erased One for All before izuku could release it.

"Now, you can try again, but if you break your arm you'll be expelled on the spot."

No pressure. Izuku catches Uraraka giving him a thumbs up as he goes to collect the ball. He's back in the circle. Breathe in, breathe out. Imagine Han curled up against his neck. Izuku opened his eyes. He could do this. He just had to be able to move, right?

Besides, Eraserhead said he'd be expelled if he broke his arm.

There's a boom as the ball shoots from his hand and into the sky. Within seconds it's out of sight. Izuku lets out a sigh and slumps. Until he hears Bakugou of course.

"You shit!"

Izuku sees the blond out of the corner of his eye and acts on instinct. Years of maneuvering around people has honed his reflexes, and he's already ducked before Bakugou can reach him. It turns out to be unnecessary, because the odd scarf that Aizawa has worn the entire test is now wrapped around Bakugou, stopping him from making another step.

"If you assault someone out of a training exercise you'll be expelled, Bakugou." The man says. "You," He nods to Izuku. "Nice reflexes. And since your arm is still in one piece. You're in the clear - for now."

Izuku, nursing his broken finger, grins.

-----

A logical ruse. A logical ruse. Aizawa spends the school day lording the threat of expulsion over their heads and it's a bluff. If Izuku wasn't so frustrated by that, he would have been impressed by it.

"Oh my gosh, Midoriya, what you did at the softball throw was so cool!" Uraraka says to him as they leave the class and enter the hallway.

The school day is over, Izuku's already been seen to by Recovery Girl (a nice lady, but stern). He's tired, his finger still has some phantom pains, and all he wants is to go and cuddle his cat, but damn does he feel good. "Really?" He asks, scratching his neck as they walk under the Yuuei gates. "I still can't control my own power, Uraraka. That isn't really cool."

"But you'll learn." She replies, readjusting her grip on her backpack. "That's what we're at Yuuei for, right?" She changes the subject before he can reply. "What do you think of our other classmates?"

"They seem nice," Izuku thinks of Bakugou and shudders. "Not Bakugou, though."

Uraraka laughs. "Yeah, he seems a bit prickly." A gross understatement. "But I meant the others."

Oh boy, Izuku hasn't learned any names besides Aizawa's today. "Uh, you know the one with red and white hair? He seems nice."

"Really? I thought he was giving off some loner vibes."

"Maybe he's shy." Izuku suggests.

"Maybe." Uraraka agrees. She stops when they come close to a bus station. "Well, this is my stop. I'm really happy we're in the same class, Midoriya."

"Well," He says, "the exam wonder-duo has to stick together, right?" He regrets the words as soon as they pass his mouth. Exam wonder duo? They hadn't even worked as a team outside of saving each other's lives.

Before he can apologize, Uraraka laughs. "'Exam wonder duo', huh?" She punches his shoulder lightly, "I like it. See you around!"

Izuku waves as she leaves, still in shock. But he can't stay shocked for long, mom's expecting him home by four.

Everything that happens after that is normal., he goes home. Eats dinner. Talks to mom about his day and watches crap tv with Han situated on his lap. It's only later, when the sun's long set and the nightlife has come out to play, that he says, "Things are looking up."

No one hears, besides Han, who just butts against Izuku's cheek and purrs as loud as a semi truck.

Chapter Text

After his first day, an email was sent out telling the students to submit a hero costume design within the week. But one thing you need to know about Izuku is that he works best under pressure. With Han purring on the side of the desk, Izuku scribbles idea after idea, but the amount of paper balls on the floor will tell anyone how much luck he's having.

He's caught in a dilema: he needs the costume to balance out both One for All and Notice Me Not, which isn't an easy thing to do, considering the two are near complete opposites. Maybe if he-

Han leaps off the desk, landing without a sound and making it to the door before he meows for Izuku to free him. A lightbulb goes off. He lets Han out and sets to work.

-----

In hindsight, he's really happy that he had that epiphany a few days ago. Why?

"So,” All Might claps his hands together, “uraraka and Midoriya will be the heroes, while Bakugou and Iida will be the villains!"

That. That was why. Notice Me Not is a blessing right now. It's weak, but it keeps Bakugou from directing his ire. He's relieved when Uraraka taps his shoulder, too relieved to be surprised that she'd seen through Notice Me Not. He's got backup in this fight. Uraraka won't let him get hurt, and vice-versa.

"You okay?" She asks, keeping her voice low.

Izuku takes a breath and nods. "Yeah." He changes the subject. "We should make some plans before we head in." His mind is already running through possible scenarios. Bakugou will go after him with a single minded mentality, maybe Izuku can capitalize on that, but that would leave Uraraka on her own against Iida. He doesn't know much about the bespectacled boy, and he doesn't know if he will be as violent in a fight as Bakugou. Though looking back to the boy and Bakugou's first conversation, maybe he's overthinking it.

"Midoriya, right?"

Izuku's dragged from his plans by a familiar male voice. It's the boy from the hero fight, Todoroki Shouto - Izuku learned his name from the Quirk apprehension test. Todoroki is still looking at him, Izuku shakes his head. "Yes?"

There's a pause. "Good luck.” His lips twitched, the closest Izuku's seen him come to a smile. “Maybe it's a good thing you didn't bring your cat this time."

Was- was that a joke? Izuku hadn't thought a teen like Todoroki, with his neutral expression and monotone voice, was capable of one. Still, he smiles. "Yeah, Han would try to fight Bakugou." And I don't really know who would win.

Uraraka looks between the two of them. "Do you guys know each other?"

"We met at a hero fight a few months ago." Todoroki answers. He turns around. "Good luck."

Before Izuku can say goodbye, All Might herds everyone into the changing rooms to put on their hero costumes.

The box in Izuku's locker is nondescript, a pale green with no other markings besides the logo of the company who manufactured it. He unlatches the box, opens it, and smiles.

-----

The sun as they all walk out is blinding. The majority of the class squints against it, the odd ones out have visors to block the light for them.

"Midoriya!" Izuku hears Uraraka call. Turning to her, he sees her costume for the first time.

It's space-themed, with pink and black being the dominant colors. On her head is a helmet that's a bastardized version of an actual astronaut's, her face is covered by a screen of reinforced glass.

"Uraraka, you look…. it's really cool." Izuku says past his stutters. Whoever designed her suit had made it skintight, and Izuku's still getting used to having a (human) friend, much less a friend who was a girl (not a girlfriend).

Uraraka spins in place, "You think? They made it a bit tight..."

Izuku shakes his head, "No, it looks fine,but if it makes you uncomfortable, you could ask for a redesign."

Uraraka hugs Izuku, which throws him off guard. "You're so sweet, Midoriya! And your costume looks awesome. Very practical!"

Izuku looks down at himself when she mentions it. The costume isn't too flashy compared to some of the ones he sees the others wearing, just a dull green jumpsuit with a grey midsection and a few odd highlights of neon on the arms. The middle has vertical seams - making it look like some odd combo of sweater and workout gear. He could easily be mistaken for an ordinary biker with a flashy fashion sense. His sleeves have rings of neon green where his shoulders end, splitting to follow a vertical line down to his gloves, which were a darker green than his suit. His boots go up halfway to his knees, matte black and streamlined. In his hands he holds his helmet. The shape resembles a motorcycle helmet, but with key differences: light gray makes up the lower half, and the middle is a visor that can be placed and removed by clicking it into place and pressing a button respectively. The upper half is the same green as his suit, with neon semi-circles on the sides that end at the edge of the visor.

He shoves his helmet on and clicks the visor into place to hide his embarrassment. "Thanks." He's doubly grateful for the tinted visor when he can feel Bakugou's acidic stare on his back. Izuku pats the pockets on his thighs and sighs in relief when he can feel the gear he requested.

Bakugou's teammate - IIda - walks over. He's decked out in full armor and holds his helmet under his arm. Izuku is reminded of a professional hero he's seen before , but can't put a name to them quite yet. "It seems like we will be facing each other in a few minutes," he says, nodding to the both of them. "And while I don't know either of you very well, I wanted to say may the best team win."

Uraraka's smile is near blinding. "You too, Iida!" All Might calls for the villain team to head in and set up. "Good luck!" She waves him goodbye. Izuku gives a weak wave as well.

He can't explain it, but he has a bad feeling about this exercise. Call it a hunch, but Izuku’s gut feelings haven't failed him yet.

-----

"So," Uraraka says as she and Izuku walk down the barren halls of the first floor. "What's the game plan?"

"Bakugou's going to target me," His voice is muffled by the mask, and he has to press a button on the side of his helmet to even be heard, but it's enough for now. "It'd be best of we split up soon. They've most likely set up on the top floor, and if they haven't, then we can move down from there." Izuku swallows. "I'll bait Bakugou to keep him distracted. He's the biggest threat right now." He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a few containers. "Take these."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Uraraka asks, taking the offered items and looking at them. "What are these?"

"Flash bangs, watered down ones." Izuku points to the pin hanging near the handle grip. "Pull that pin and throw it once you're close enough. It has about a one-second delay, so look away before it goes off." They're approaching a corner now, but something doesn't feel right. Latent energy buzzes in the air, watching, waiting. Something’s about to happen. With his senses already on high-alert, seeing the first part of Bakugou;s glove peeking out from the corner has Izuku pushing Uraraka to the side with a yell of, “Duck!”

Bakugou appears fully, and the grin on his face couldnt be anything but bloodthirsty. He brings a hand forward, explosion at the ready, and izuku can see the hand make contact with his stomach in slow motion. The impact has him wanting to puke, but that’s not a smart idea, seeing that the mask has no proper drainage, so he grits his teeth and bears it.

"Midoriya!" Uraraka cries, reaching out but recoiling at Izuku’s harsh bark.

“No!” He stands up. His ribs twinge, but he yells anyways. "Run, Uraraka! You know what to do!" He turns on his heel and bolts down the hall. He can already hear Bakugou yelling after him, it only makes him speed up. He makes a left, then a right, then another right. Enough to get them away from Uraraka and her path to the staircase. With that out of the way, Izuku focuses on a new objective: he has to get to the next corner. He has to get out of sight. Either that-

"Deku!"

-Or he's dead.

The corner Izuku spots ahead of him is still a bit far away, and he has no idea if Notice Me Not will work when someone is actively looking for him. But there was only one way to find out. He just hopes he doesn't get blown to kingdom come for his efforts.

He rounds the corner and presses himself against it. His heart is beating so hard he can't tell if Notice Me Not is activated. The lights are too bright, Bakugou would surely be able to see him. He’s breathing too loud, everything is too loud. Nothing short of vanishing into the concrete will suffice in hiding from the blond. He’s already preparing a funeral arrangement when he hears footsteps getting closer. Bakugou rounds the corner and Izuku sucks in a breath, holding as deathly still as he can manage.

"Deku! Stop running, you fucking coward!" He looks around, there's hellfire in his eyes. Izuku's half expecting him to shake off Notice Me Not and blast him to oblivion, but that's not was happens.

The blond's growl reverberates through the hall and he stalks off, not once having seen Izuku. His sigh of relief is silenced by his mask. Detaching himself from the wall, he wonders how Uraraka's doing.

-----

Bakugou's screaming echoes through the building. And with each explosion, Ochako’s worry grows. She hasn't known Midoriya for long, aside from the few days they've spent together in class, but she likes to think that she's a good judge of character. Midoriya is shy, but he has a good heart. She doesn't like the fact that he's alone with Bakugou, who seems more likely to punch someone in the mouth than say hello. But there's nothing she can do right now, the only way she can help Midoriya right now is to finish the exercise as fast as she can and capture the "bomb".

She's on the top floor now, and when she sees the shadow of a large object, she knows she's close. Iida wouldn't leave the bomb unguarded, and when it comes to actual strength, he has the upper hand. Now, a lot of people will say that she’s a dunce, a total airhead. She hasnt really done anything yet to convince them otherwise, but maybe she can start here. She needs to step back, breathe, and take a page out of Midoriya’s book - she can fight hard, but that won’t matter if she doesn't fight smart.

She fiddles with the flash-bangs Midoriya gave her. One second delay time, and Uraraka doesn't know if Iida's helmet has a tinted visor, or if the sound will be enough to stun him. Either way, it won't hurt to try. Just to be safe, she grabs a few small rocks and heads in.

-----

Uraraka's voice comes in over the comm. "Hey, Midoriya, I found the bomb."

Izuku's grateful he put his comm inside his helmet, it means his voice can't be heard by Bakugou. “Good job. I lost Bakugou, I'll set up a trap and lure him into it."

He couldn't see her, but Izuku imagines that she nods. "Got it. Good luck, Midoriya." The comm cuts off, leaving him in silence.

Izuku unzips a pocket, the sound that it makes echoes in the hall. He flinches and looks for any sign of Bakugou. Nothing. He takes a breath and continues.

The fishing wire he'd asked for is bundled neatly in a case. Thin enough to be unseen by an untrained eye, but thick enough for it to take a bit of abuse before breaking. The hooks for him to loop the wire through are there as well, along with a mallet. He looks around again for Bakugou and sets to work.

“A slipknot won’t work.” Izuku mutters to himself. “So a common double knot will have to do.”

He's just finished tying the last knot when the blond comes into sight. Izuku knows that the blond can't see him, but he gulps all the same. He stands up, takes a step back from the wire, and prepares his eulogy.

"Hey, asshat!" Izuku yells at the top of his lungs. The words boom off of the walls, Izuku refuses to flinch at the noise. Bakugou's head whips to him, and he can see the fires of hell.

"Deku." The insult doesn't even sound like a word anymore.

Izuku's entire body is shaking. "What? Are you deaf?" He thumps a fist on his chest. It sounds hollow. "Come and get me, you egotistic douche-canoe!"

Bakugou roars. In his haze of fury, he foregoes flying towards Izuku with his explosions. Which is what Izuku wanted in the first place. The blond's shin catches on the fishing wire, pulling it tight and making Bakugou lose his balance.

Izuku leaps over his fallen form and takes out the capture tape. "Sorry, Bakugou." He mutters. He’s about to wrap the tape around Bakugou's wrist when the blond gets up and decks him. The helmet absorbs most of the force, but it still sends him flying.

Bakugou is standing over him, absolutely livid. "Where do you get off calling me an asshat, huh, Deku?"

For years, the mere sight of Bakugou has spawned a primal fear in Izuku. Ever since kindergarten, when Bakugou’s Quirk manifested and his didn’t, there’s been a rift. Bakugou refuses to see Izuku as someone with worth, and Izuku? He’s spent every second, every minute, every day thinking that the blond was some unattainable goal, something that he’d only achieve in his wildest dreams. But today, change is afoot. There's a great amount of bravery in the way Izuku makes slow, deliberate movements for the button on the side of his helmet. "I call it as I see it, Bakugou." He rolls to the side just in time to avoid the fist going for his head. He scrambles up and bolts.

"You idiot!" Bakugou takes off after him. But what he doesn't realize is that Izuku's set up more than one trap. Izuku gains more and more ground each time the blond trips. It's after the fourth trap that Bakugou realizes he can just blast himself over the wires.

Izuku thumbs the flash-bang in his hand. "Here goes nothing," he mutters. Pulling the pin, Izuku whips around and chucks it at Bakugou. His visor blocks enough of the light for Izuku to get by unscathed, and the sound's reduced to a loud clap, but Bakugou isn't so lucky. The blond is leaning against one of the walls, covering his eyes with his hands and swearing up a storm. The capture tape is back out, and Bakugou only recovers his eyesight in time to see Izuku tie the tape off around the blond's arm.

All Might's voice comes in over the speakers. "You've been caught, Bakugou. Please exit the building and rejoin the group."

But the thing is, Bakugou doesn't accept losing. Izuku knows this, but All Might doesn't, so that's why Izuku's already out of range before Bakugou gets up to throw a swing.

"You fucker!" Bakugou is seething now, more than Izuku's ever seen him before. "You think you can pull one up on me because of a technicality?" The crackle of explosions fill the air. "I'm gonna make you regret the day you were born!"

"You kind of already do." Izuku mutters, thankfully unheard.

-----

"All Might, you have to stop the fight!" Kirishima Eijirou pleads. "Bakugou's not stopping, Midoriya's going to get hurt!" His classmates around him seem to share the sentiment. They're all watching the fight on the screen. Midoriya is doing an impressive job dodging, but it's only a matter of time before he slips up.

The entire exercise had started well enough. Midoriya and Uraraka had done an excellent job at communicating and making a plan. Now, admittedly, he’d been a bit surprised to learn that Midoriya had flashbangs on his person, but acknowledged it as a sound tool to have on your person in a situation like this. Besides, the school checked the inventory of the costumes whenever they get made or modified. If there had been anything too dangerous, it would have been changed or taken out entirely. Besides, out of the four students on the field, All Might trusted Midoriya with the flashbangs the most.

Bakugou and Iida, on the other hand, fought like cats and dogs. Bakugou has an...aggressive way of doing things, and that clashed with Iida's overall personality. Out of the two teams, it was obvious who had the better synergy.

Midoriya had predicted his opponent well, making a plan that would keep the heavy hitter of the enemy team focused on him while Uraraka went to the bomb. If Bakugou had listened to Iida and stayed in the room they were guarding, there would have been little to no chance of Midoriya or Uraraka making their way though. Of course, if Midoriya used his Quirk, that could have been another story, but that wasn't the matter at hand.

Midoriya's words to Bakugou as he lead the blond into a trap had almost the entire room in shock. For good reason. Midoriya gave everyone he met an aura of gentleness. Many of his classmates would say that the green haired boy wouldn't hurt a fly, but that idea of Midoriya just didn't fit the one shouting insults at Bakugou to rile him up.

Young Kaminari summed it up quite well by saying, "Gee, never thought Midoriya had a potty mouth on him."

"Well," Kirishima had said, "he did go to middle school with Bakugou."

The sentence had given All Might pause. Relationships that carried on from middle school were either good, bad, or something in the middle. Yet taking into account both students' personalities, it's easy to guess which one it was.

While All might had trained Midoriya, he'd had the chance to gain a good look into the boy's disposition. A quiet child with a tendency for hiding from his troubles, Midoriya often tries to avoid people issues that don't require immediate attention. Maybe it'll be good for him to learn how to fight back instead of hide. The thought leaves a nasty feeling in his stomach.

He has to do something about this. Soon.

-----

Uraraka's having some trouble with Iida. Her assumption that he knew how her Quirk works had been correct. The other teen had gone through the effort of cleaning the entire room of loose items for her to use. In any other situation, that might have been troublesome, but Uraraka came prepared.

Iida rushes forward with a burst from his legs. Uraraka suffers a glancing blow to her arm as she tries to dodge. Both of them can hear the sounds of their respective teammates fighting on the comms. Uraraka can't see Iida's expression, but hers is one of worry. Still, Izuku entrusted this part of the plan to her, she had to come through for him. Maybe if she secures the bomb, Bakugou will stop.

She skids to the wall, using it to prop herself up. She has to get this over with, but Iida isn't going to make it easy. That's when she remembers the flashbangs.

"These have a one second delay time, so look away after you throw it."

Iida runs towards her again, Uraraka pulls the pin and chucks it. The resulting bang is concussive, but past the ringing in her ears, Uraraka can see that Iida's stopped to cover his own. There's no time to waste, she takes a running start, activates her Quirk, and jumps.

-----

"Where did you get that fucking Quirk, Deku?" Bakugou hisses. "'Cause you sure as hell didn't have that when we were little!"

Izuku blocks a hit and ducks another. Whatever he says can't be heard anyways, so he keeps his mouth shut. Over the comms, he can hear a flashbang go off. "Here's hoping that she can get to the bomb." He mutters as he lifts up his knee to block another roundhouse kick. For all the training Izuku did, he never really learned how to throw a punch. That's probably why his hand hurts after he clips Bakugou across the cheek.

He ends up regretting it when Bakugou grabs his arm and flips him with the assistance of a few explosions.

-----

The bomb feels light under her fingers, but the rush of relief makes Uraraka not care too much. "Captured!" She says in relief, but even then, the words feel hollow. She’s too worried about Midoriya to truly appreciate the victory. She releases gravity and drops to the floor.

Iida walks up. Uraraka feels the stirrings of regret when she sees him with his helmet off and rubbing his eyes. "That was a smart move." He says, "Smart, and a bit unexpected."

She worries her lip. She hadn’t meant to actually hurt him. "Are you okay?"

Iida shakes his head and puts his helmet back on. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for the concern, but I think it's more important that we get to our teammates and break up the fight."

Uraraka's already heading for the door. "Good idea."

-----

"Fucking say something, Deku!” Bakugou demands, throwing another blast Izuku’s way. “Where's all that bravado you had before?"

Izuku's forgone outright attacking. All of his efforts are going into avoiding hits and gaining distance. Which isn't easy, since for every foot he managed to put between them, Bakugou closed it with an explosion. There's a hallway corner coming up. If Izuku can get out of sight fast enough, then maybe he can hide, but if he tries, he'll leave himself open for another hit.

"Where's all that strength you had at the Quirk test, huh?" Bakugou demands, "You coward, use your fucking Quirk!"

As much as Izuku would love to do that, he can't. There's too many ways for it to go wrong. One for All will wreck his body, and Izuku really doesn't want to commit manslaughter by directing it at Bakugou

Uraraka comes in over the comm. She's out of breath, pausing between each handful of words. “Midoriya, I captured the bomb. Iida and I are heading down to help you against Bakugou.”

Izuku feels the pit of dread in his stomach deepen. “Uraraka, don’t-” he gets caught in an explosion and thrown across the room, cutting off whatever he was going to say.

Bakugou stalks closer as Izuku wobbles into an upright position. “Come on, Deku! Come at me!”

Izuku has to fight the nausea down as he clutches his stomach. Bakugou didn't hold anything back in that last hit. The blond is getting angrier, and Izuku makes it worse every time he avoids fighting back. He has to end this. Uraraka and Iida are on their way. Izuku can take the abuse that Bakugou likes to dish out, but the thought of his friend and a classmate taking it for his sake makes him sicker than a gut-shot ever can.

As if the universe loves to screw with him, voices can be heard behind Bakugou. He recognizes them as Iida and Uraraka.

"Bakugou, stop! The exercise is over, we've lost!" Iida yells, fighting with himself over wether or not to step in.

Uraraka has no such qualms. She rushes in and tries to help. Bakugou stands up, eyes her with disdain, and lifts a hand to send an explosion her way.

Now Izuku isn't sure why, but that's when he throws the previous no-maiming rule out the window.

The buzz of One for All makes his arm vibrate, every cell being filled to the brim and beyond. He's not close enough to make physical contact, but he thinks of what All Might did back at the slime incident. A shockwave was enough to send that slime villain splattering. All Izuku has to do is angle it so Bakugou's only caught in the edge of the shockwave. The blond's hand is getting closer and closer to Uraraka, but Izuku's fist is almost fully extended.

There's a loud "boom" when One for All releases, and Izuku watches as his arm flops with the recoil. The shockwave continues forward, the brunt of it misses Bakugou but it’s still strong enough to send him flying. The concrete wall across from Izuku crumbles from the force, and Bakugou's form is sent flying through to leave an indent on the adjacent room's wall. Izuku can't feel the pain in his arm. He can smell the dust from the concrete though his mask, hear his heart going a mile a minute, but he can't feel his arm.

Bakugou is about to get back up, and Izuku's preparing for another fight, when a huge shadow looms over him.

"Young Bakugou," Izuku can't see his expression, but All Might is definitely not happy. "You'll be sent to Principal Nedzu and receive treatment from Recovery Girl after young Midoriya." He leans down closer, "I would not recommend trying to continue this fight. Part of being a hero is knowing when you've lost." All Might holds out a hand, a clear invitation of assistance.

Bakugou gets up without taking the hand. He doesn't make eye contact with anyone as all five of them walk out of the building. Izuku winces with every step he takes, the pain's come back now. Well, at least Uraraka is keeping him distracted.

"It turned out to be a good idea to give me those flashbangs." She says, taking out one that she didn't use and handing it back. "Iida wasn't expecting it."

Iida, who's walking on the other side of Izuku, nods. "It was a sound strategy. Though I'm unsure of where she stored them, given the ah...nature of her costume."

Uraraka punches Iida playfully, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Izuku watches Iida splutter and Uraraka laugh in silence, content to just observe. He's seen so many people that can fake smiles as easy as breathing. Yet the two next to him are genuine. He doesn't know how long it's been since he's met genuine people. It's nice. Now if only his arm could stop hurting.

The AC of the building is nice, too, a soothing balm that washes over the sweaty group of teens. All Might escorts Bakugou out himself while the rest of the class rushes to Izuku.

"Holy shit man, are you okay?" Kirishima asks.

"Man, the way you handled Bakugou was freakin' awesome."

"You stayed rather calm the whole time."

"You were so cool!"

Uraraka makes a move to stand as a barrier between Izuku and the questioning classmates. "Hey, hey, give him some space!"

Iida joins in. His hand gestures alone make everyone take a few steps back. "Yes, Midoriya has been very hurt!"

Izuku scratches his head with his uninjured hand. "Uh, I'm fine for the most part. But All Might said I needed to go to the nurse for, um," he gestures to his arm, which hangs uselessly at his side. "This." He shrinks a bit when everyone looks at him with a face of disbelief.

“Dude,” Kaminari says, “Your arm is paste right now.”

Uraraka ignores the blond’s words and perks up, "I can come with you if you want, Midoriya."

Izuku wasn't expecting the offer, but appreciates it all the same. "Thanks, Uraraka, but I don't know if All Might would be okay with that." He makes his way to the door, "See you." He's surprised when the words are met with happy goodbyes from several other classmates. He gives a weak wave and exits.

-----

Today has been a Day, and Izuku is ridiculously happy when Recovery Girl keeps him at the nurse's office until school ends. Downside: he had the lecture of his life and most likely has a neon sign saying "I have a death wish!" on his back now. Bright side? His arm is no longer the result of a kindergartner getting ahold of the play-dough. Hooray.

Izuku munches on an orange slice Recovery Girl gave him ("getting your energy back is important, dearie!") when All Might walks in through the doors.

Izuku almost chokes on the piece of fruit. "All Might!" He coughs, swallowing the orange slice whole.

The hero poofs into his normal form and nods. "Hello Midoriya." he lifts a hand to muffle a cough, "Class just let out, I wanted to check up on you before you left. How's your arm?"

Izuku raises the appendage, which is now in a cast. "Peachy."

The response startles a laugh out of the pro hero. "You, my boy, seem to have a sass streak. Let me say that no one was expecting you to trash-talk young Bakugou like that. Myself included."

Izuku is struck with a realization and covers his face. "Oh my God, that was recorded."

"I was almost expecting Kirishima to ask for a copy." All Might laughs again. "Well, you've certainly made a lasting impression on your classmates. Who knows? Maybe you'll make some new friends."

Izuku doesn't really know how to adress the fact that All Might is sounding awfully like a parent, so he just ignores it. "I don't know. Besides Uraraka, there's not really anybody I can talk to without like, fifteen minutes of prep-time." He pops another orange slice into his mouth and offers the last piece to All Might. "Orange?"

All Might takes the offered fruit and chows down. "You have to make the effort, young Midoriya. Friends aren't going to fall out of the sky."

Yeah, sometimes you fall out of the sky and they're the one to stop you from splatting on the concrete. Izuku doesn't say this though, he just stands up and stretches. "Am I clear to go, Ma'am?" He asks Recovery Girl, rocking on the balls of his feet.

"Be careful, dear." The nurse bids him farewell, "Get a good night's rest and come back before first period so I can heal up the rest of your arm."

Izuku nods, "I will, thank you!" He turns back to All Might. "Walk me to the gates?" He tries to convey that he has a few questions with his eyes alone, and he's thankful that the hero catches his drift.

"Of course, my boy." The hero stands as well and bows to Recovery Girl. He lets out a tension in his shoulders once the doors close. "Out of all the heroes here, she's only second to principal Nedzu in terms of authority." He informs Izuku as they go down the hall. "It'd be best if you made an effort to stay on their good sides."

Izuku nods. "No more turning my limbs into pasta sauce, got it."

All might laughs again, and it's during this laugh that Izuku musters up the courage to squeeze a handful of words out of his mouth.

"Can you teach me how to use One for All?"

The hero stops in front of the entrance. Izuku can see the sky turning orange through the glass. Crap, he's gonna have to run back home to be in time for dinner. "What brought this on, my boy?"

"Well," Izuku fiddles with his fingers, but forces himself to bring his hands to his side. "I can't use it without hurting myself. And even if it's a last resort, breaking myself every time I use a power that's supposed to be mine won't do anyone any good." He looks up to All Might. "Did you hurt yourself the first time you used it?"

All Might looks from him to the outside, where the wind rustles the autumn leaves and the clouds drift aimlessly. "A few times." He admits, "but never to the extent you have." The hero rubs the back of his neck. "Look, kid, I'm not good at any of this teacher stuff. I can't explain how I got control of One for All because after a few tries I did it on instinct."

Izuku deflates, "I guess I should've figured-" he startles himself into silence when All Might's bony hand pats his shoulder.

"I wasn't finished." All Might says, much to Izuku's embarrassment. "Because while I don't know how I did it, it'd still be smart to have someone who understands the nature of One for All to help you." The smile on the hero's face turns a bit sheepish. "I guess I should've done that from the start."

Izuku lets a small flicker of hope spur into life. "So you'll-"

"Meet me at gym number three after school tomorrow, we'll start there." He holds a hand up, "Deal?"

Izuku high-fives All Might, excitement coursing through him. "Y-yeah, deal!" He opens the door and steps out. "See you tomorrow, All Might!" With that, he's off.

It's on the bus ride home that he realizes he left his backpack in class.

Chapter Text

Waking up early is never fun. Izuku rubs his eyes and gently sweeps Han off of his head. Getting up, he squints at the mirror and sighs when he sees white cat hair mixed with his own. He looks to Han, who's sitting on the bathroom counter and cleaning himself.

"I really wish you wouldn't sleep on my head." He tells the cat. "It's stupid how much of your hair I have to brush out." He fumbled with the brush handle, "Stupid cast." He mutters, switching the brush to his free hand. "Well, at least Recovery Girl is going to heal it today." Now that he thinks about it, it might be smart to get that done before he meets up with All Might at the gym. There's no telling what the hero might have in store.

Han doesn't reply besides lifting up his other paw and getting to work on that one.

When Izuku enters the kitchen, the stove is cold and the pantry's unopened. He sets out to fix that. Han loops through his legs as he breaks out a cast iron pan and a carton of eggs. It's a bit awkward with his cast limiting his movement, but he manages. Occasionally, between making sure the food doesn't burn, he crouches down to give his cat a quick pat.

It's not long before his mom walks in. "Goodness," she yawns, "I slept through my alarm. Sorry, sweetie."

Izuku flips the eggs, "It's fine, mom. I needed to practice my cooking anyways." He takes the skillet off the stove and dumps the omelette onto a plate he'd set out before he began. "Do you want hot sauce with yours, mom?"

His mom takes a seat at the kitchen table. "Just put it on the side, please." Han abandons Izuku's legs to leap into her lap. "Hello, Han." She greets, scratching the cat between his eyes. She's still petting Han when she asks, "You usually sleep until the last minute, is something happening today?"

Izuku plucks another egg from the carton and breaks it over the pan. "Not much." He's thankful that he's facing away from her, it's easier to hide his grimace. He still hasn't told her just how he passed the entrance exam, or the real reason he's wearing a cast. The feeling of guilt is not a pleasant one, it's oil dredging its way from his stomach to his heart, leaving an icky feeling wherever it goes.

It's not that he doesn't want to tell her, but it's more as to "how" he's supposed to do it. Mom is the first and only one to ever learn about Notice Me Not - besides All Might. She knows that he has a Quirk. Somehow explaining that his ability to go unseen developed into monstrous, god-like strength is a bit harder than he originally thought it to be.

"Oh! I'm...uh." He struggles for an answer, trying to think of a conceivable way he could explain this. "You know how Notice Me Not lets me go unseen." Oh God where is he going with this, "Well, i-it turns out that every time I used it, it stored up a bit of energy, and it's built up so much now that I can make shockwaves." He dumps his own omelette on yet another plate. Rinsing the pan off, he places it in the sink and grabs his breakfast to dig in. "I can't really control it yet," he says through a mouthful of eggs. "So All Might offered to help me get used to it since he has a similar Quirk."

Mom nods along, and Izuku is familiar with that look of worry on her face. "Well," she says, putting her fork down, "I'm glad that you're getting help to control it." She looks to him and smiles, "Just don't push yourself too hard, Izuku. I worry."

"I know, mom." He finishes his eggs and stands up. Grabbing his spare uniform - he'd left his backpack at school - he gives his mom a solid kiss to the cheek. "I'm heading out, love you!" He gives Han a goodbye pat and opens the door to start his daily journey.

Izuku is used to the early morning bustle, businessmen and women on their daily commute, a group of rowdy teenagers heading to school, little kids holding their mother's hand as they make their way to kindergarten. Everything has a quiet feel to it today, though. It's only an hour's difference, yet it's haunting how everything's shifted.

The sun hasn't greeted the streets with its shine, leaving everything in a cool shade of blue. There's a chill in the air, nipping at Izuku's cheeks as he walks to the bus stop. No one's there to wait with him as he sits on the bench, watching the few other early-birds go about their business across the street. From a glance, he can tell one person, a well-dressed lady wearing flats, has some sort of leg pain, if the slight limp on her left leg is any indication. A man's left his watch at home - he keeps looking to his wrist even though it's bare. And a student a bit older than Izuku is nursing a cup of coffee and looking dead inside.

Izuku continues to people-watch until the bus arrives. He boards, says a quick hello to the driver, and takes a seat near the back.

A few stops later and he's reached his destination. He hops off once the doors open and makes his way to the gates of Yuuei. Only to be greeted by a crowd of newspeople. They don't see him, thank God, they just chatter amongst themselves, waiting for someone to interview. Izuku recalls only using Notice Me Not at max capacity around Bakugou, but he can't find any fault in doing it now. Talking to Uraraka was a bit of a challenge on a good day, he doesn't want to get asked questions by a complete stranger.

Thankfully, by now Izuku's mastered the art of slipping through a crowd. None of the reporters are aware of him as he slips past. He takes extra caution around the cameras, seeing as they were the only things that could see past Notice Me Not at the moment. He reaches safety once his foot passes over the threshold of the school. Izuku can feel a wave of security wash over him looking back at the gate. This place was safe. No one can hurt him without having to get past the teachers; they're in a whole other league in terms of fighting prowess.

It's thirty minutes before the nurse's office is supposed to open, but Recovery Girl is nice enough to give him a quick kiss on the forehead and finish healing his arm. It takes a good handful of minutes to get the cast off, and Izuku's not sure if he'll be able to get the image of a kindly Recovery Girl wielding an electric saw out of his head. The nurse hands him a baggie of apple slices and tells him to be good before sending him on his way.

It takes a bit of navigation plus some help from an on-campus map for him to find gym number 3. He stares at the door for only a moment before taking a breath and pushing it open.

The first thing he notices is the space. The roof is thirty-five feet high with a few high-placed windows to filter the rising sun's light. To the far right of him, there are a few punching bags hanging from a pavilion structure that doubles as a second floor for more punching bags. There's a weight rack to the left, going from five to two-hundred pound dumbbell with a few barbells placed on a nearby rack. Next to that, there are yoga mats stacked neatly in a cubby.

Izuku spots All Might hanging near the water cooler. "Good morning." He greets, walking over to stand a few feet away from the hero. He notices bags underneath All Might's sunken eyes, and his hair looks like it hasn't met a comb today. "Are you alright?"

The hero waves off his concern."Yes, yes. Just haven't gotten my morning coffee yet." He claps his hands together. "Now, how about we get to it?"

Izuku, eager to get started, agreed with enthusiasm. "What first?"

All Might tosses a yoga mat to Izuku, taking one for himself. "We stretch. After that, we'll get started."

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them are properly stretched and ready to begin. "Try to activate One for All." All Might instructs, standing arms-distance from Izuku with his arms crossed.

Izuku closes his eyes and focuses. There's no real way to explain what One for All feels like, it can be so many things yet none of them. But if Izuku has to give it a shot, he'll say it's energy in it's purest form: buzzing, electric, and unable to be fully contained. He just has to focus on letting a bit of it out, because if he compares his current strength to a lake, he has to filter a cup of water from the ocean through a faucet.

Izuku can feel the instant he accesses the reserve of energy that is One for All. It's a jolt that runs through his whole body, electrifying every cell it touches and making them buzz. he opens his eyes and sees his arm glowing with energy, red lines crisscrossing his limb and converging at the middle of the back of his hand.

"Good, now try to turn it off."

Izuku blinks. "Huh?"

"Think of it like this," All Might begins, "you're about to hit your opponent when they suddenly dodge. To reduce collateral, you'll have to send the energy you summoned back to the reserve. Fighting villains isn't all there is to being a hero, my boy."

Izuku doesn't reply. Instead, he closes his eyes and tries to do as he's told. In his head, he's imagining a silhouette - his silhouette - with his right arm lit up with One for All's energy. He has to get the energy to go back, but how? There's no real way to do that, unless he figures out how to make a faucet suck water back in. Maybe he's overthinking it. He just has to disperse the energy in a way that doesn't hurt him, but how?

An idea pops into his head. Right now, One for All is concentrated in his right arm, if he distributes the energy around the rest of his body, there's a decent chance he'll get out unharmed. Right now, Izuku will take any chance he can get.

He can feel the way one for all starts to circulate his system, and it's a split second of surprise that makes him lose control.

There's a crack as his fingers break. Though considering he had One for All in his entire right limb, Izuku thinks himself lucky it isn't any worse. Compared to the agony from the entrance exam, the painful throbbing from his digits was almost ignorable.

He holds his right wrist with his left hand, keeping his broken fingers from moving too much. "Well," he says, staring from his fingers to All Might, "that could have gone better." He's then struck with a grim realization. "Recovery Girl is gonna kill me."

------

Recovery Girl doesn't actually kill him, though it takes a remarkable amount of self-restraint for her to refrain. Instead, she settles for lecturing All Might every moment she's not telling Izuku to have another piece of fruit. Izuku manages to escape only because he has class in five minutes. He mouths "good luck" to All Might before disappearing past the door.

He changes clothes in the bathroom and hurries through the halls. Nobody would notice him if he was late, probably, but he still doesn't want to risk it. The door slides open without a sound and he steps in.

His bag is where he left it before, undisturbed, and for that, he's grateful. The rest of the class is already there, talking amongst themselves in little groups. Izuku can still feel the hum of Notice Me Not, which means that he's still unnoticeable. Walking on the balls of his feet as to make as little sound as possible, he slips into his seat and unzips his bag to pull out his school things. All the while, he keeps tabs on Notice Me Not and wether he can still feel it activated.

Nobody notices him until Aizawa shuffles in to take roll call and start first period. "Midoriya Izuku?" The teacher says, looking from the paper to Izuku's seat.

Izuku raises a hand half-heartedly. "Here." He shrinks into his seat a bit when everyone's heads whip to him.

"Woah, man, when did you get here?" Kirishima exclaims, leaning over his desk to get a bit closer to Izuku. "Are you a ninja or something?"

"Or something." Izuku agrees, awkward smile in place. He isn't expecting the wave of laughter that comes from his answer. It's different from all the years he's had people laughing at him, these people are laughing with him.

"Settle down." Aizawa says, thuroughly unimpressed by everyone's mirth. "Let's get on with roll call. Bakugou Katsuki?"

There's an explosion from behind Izuku. "Yeah, I'm here." The blond growls, boring his eyes into Izuku's back.

Izuku does his best to ignore the heat in the stare. He turns to Uraraka. "What did I miss yesterday?"

His friend lights up. "Not much, but All Might said that you and Iida were tied for the MVP of our exercise!"

Izuku blinks. "Really?"

Iida, who's sitting two seats away, pipes in. "Yes. According to All Might, I displayed a decent amount of foresight in removing everything that Uraraka could use from the room Bakugou and I placed the bomb." He makes a hand gesture to Izuku. "And you, you kept my team's heavy hitter occupied while your teammate went to deal with me. And while you did end up damaging the structural integrity of the building, you only did so to protect your teammate and myself."

Izuku hadn't been expecting to be the MVP of, well, anything. He rubs the back of his head in an attempt to expend nervous energy. "Well, you did a really good job yourself, IIda. I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have won if you and Bakugou stayed together."

Iida adjusts his glasses. "Still, I find myself feeling rather guilty for my teammate's disorderly conduct."

Well, that's one way to describe Bakugou.

"And I wish for you to know that I sincerely regret not stepping in, both during the entrance exam and this exercise. I still have much to learn about being a hero."

Izuku waves his hands wildly about. "No no no, it's fine! You don't have to apologize!"

"I do, Midoriya." Iida presses, "It isn't fair to have you keep stepping in to fix a mistake I wasn't aware I was making."

"I- well-" an idea strikes Izuku. "Well, you can make it up by sitting with me and Uraraka at lunch today."

Uraraka sees what he's doing and runs with it. "Yeah! All's forgiven, right?"

Iida, thank God, seems to accept the offer. "Well, if that's your only requirement, I'd be happy to oblige."

"Hey, fuckers." Bakugou snaps, "Stop giggling with one another and pay attention!"

Izuku squeaks in fear and whips his head to the front of the class.

Aizawa's written "class president votes" in bold letters on the board. It doesn't take too much detective work to figure out what's happening. The teacher gives slips of paper to a classmate to distribute them amongst the students. Izuku stares at his piece of paper, tapping his pencil on the desk as he goes through his options. Aizawa did say that students could vote for themselves, but Izuku just doesn't have the self-confidence to do so. He looks to Iida, who's already submitted his vote, and makes his decision.

-----

Izuku is now very much doubting the judgement capabilities of his classmates.

"Congrats on winning, Midoriya!" Uraraka congratulates him, patting his back as they make their way to the cafeteria. Izuku doesn't reply besides a weak groan. "Oh, come on, you'll do fine! There's a reason you got the majority of the votes, you know."

"If there is, I don't know it." Izuku replies with complete honesty. "I'll grab us a seat, you go and get in line before it gets too long."

Uraraka punches Izuku's shoulder a bit harder than usual. "Fine, but don't think Imma let you put yourself down like that." She vanishes amongst the crowd of students. "See you!"

Izuku, now confident that no one is paying attention to him, activates Notice Me Not and moves through the growing crowd. He finds a great view at the table next to a row of windows looking out to the main entrance. Sitting down, he takes out his lunchbox and takes his food out. Mom's been testing out new recipes, and Izuku's eager to try a few of her spicy rice balls.

he spots Iida after eating one out of three rice balls his mom packed. He swallows his mouthful, deactivates Notice Me Not, and waves the other teen over.

"Hello, Midoriya." The bespectacled teen greets. "Congratulations on being voted class president."

Izuku fights down his embarrassed blush and smiles. "Thanks, Iida." He gestures to the seat across from him, a gesture that his classmate takes with grace. "It's a nice day out." Izuku comments, looking back to the window and staring wistfully outside. He'd be much more confortable if he could feel the chilly breeze instead of see it tug leaves off of the non-evergreen trees.

"It is." Iida agrees, taking a bite of his food. "It's a shame we don't have many outside classes."

Uraraka takes a seat before Izuku can say anything in reply. "Hi, Iida!" She greets with a smile.

Iida gives her a cordial nod. "Hello to you as well, Uraraka."

She sticks her tongue out, "Hey, we're friends now, no need to be so formal!"

Iida coughs, adjusting his glasses. "Of course. I apolo- sorry" he corrects himself mid-sentence when Uraraka points a finger at him.

Izuku's content to listen to their banter. Taking another bite of his rice ball, he looks back outside, out to the gate. He only registers what he's seeing a split second before alarms begin to blare across the cafeteria.

"What's going on?" A first year demands.

"It's the level three alarm - there's an intruder on campus!"

While the rest of the students are worked up into a panic, Izuku continues to stare at the scene outside. The gate, which had previously been a solid sheet of metal almost six feet thick, was now a pile of dust. He can see the tail end of a crowd of reporters barging into the building. What kind of newsperson has a Quirk like that?

No, it's not the newspeople that disintegrated the gate. Izuku pries his eyes from the school entrance to scan outside school grounds. He's almost frantic in the way he searches, and it's only through years of people-watching that he's able to spot the dark figure leaning in an alley. The placement allows too perfect a viewing angle of Yuuei for it to be a coincidence. Izuku feels a shiver run up his spine as he watches the figure. This person is dangerous, but how dangerous? Can his Quirk work on living things? Or just inanimate objects? Izuku's not sure he wants to find out.

He's not swept up in the chaos of the panicking students. He sticks to the window and keeps watching the figure. It's not long before the suspect gives up interest and turns away, walking into the shadows and disappearing from sight.

Something about the whole thing leaves a nauseous feeling in Izuku's stomach. This is a callout, someone wants the staff of Yuuei to know something. But what? It could always be some group the school hired to test the defenses, but why would they stop at the entrance? No, this was unexpected. An outside force wants Yuuei to know that its defenses aren't impenetrable. Izuku goes to next period with a sour taste in his mouth.

-----

In the end, Iida's the one voted class president. His conduct in getting all the other students organized made it a landslide decision. Izuku's just happy that he's not the president anymore. Too much responsibility, too many eyes on him.

"Congrats, Iida, you deserve it more than me." Is all Izuku says when the teen apologizes for taking the position. "I don't mind at all, I'm just glad someone like you has the position."

The bespectacled teen bows, "Thank you, it is relieving to hear such words from a friend."

"We-we're friends?" Izuku doesn't mean for the words to come out rude. He covers his face with his hands. "Ah, sorry, that came out wrong, I-"

"If you would allow me the privilege," Iida cut in, the tiniest of smiles on his face, "I would very much like to be your friend, Midoriya."

"S-sure!" Is all Izuku can peep out. His voice is a few octaves higher than normal.

Uraraka laughs, clapping her hands together. "The exam wonder duo has become a trio!" She cheers, "Welcome to the team, Iida!"

The dismissal bell rings, and Izuku makes sure he has his backpack this time before he heads out with his friends. Friends, plural. He smiles as he listens to the chatter of the people on either side of him. Not a week in and he now has two friends. High school is going great. Yet his happiness leaks out when they exit the gate. The dust was swept up hours ago, but Izuku can still feel remnants sting the inside of his nose. He looks to his left, where he spotted the suspect.

He stops in his tracks. "Hey, guys? You can go ahead without me, I need to ask a teacher something."

The two other teens didn't take it as a sign something was wrong, so they left after a quick goodbye. Izuku waits until they've turned the corner before he sets out for the alleyway. Notice Me Not is up within seconds, and he crosses the street as quietly as he can.

It's been at least three hours since lunchtime, but he can still see the distinguished footprints of dust. Izuku tip-toes around them as to not disturb the evidence. He takes out his phone and snaps a few photos. Keeping the device in hand, he follows the trail.

It's near the dead-end of the alley that the prints vanish. It could have been that the dust on the sole of the shoe had worn off, but the last set of footprints hadn't shown any signs of fading. Izuku runs his hands across the walls. They come back dustless. So he couldn't go forward, didn't go up, and couldn't go down. He's in the middle of brainstorming ideas when his phone comes to life in his hands.

"Hi mom!" He says, holding the phone to his cheek with a hand as he hurries out of the alley. "What's up?"

"Hi, Izuku!" His mom's staticky voice comes in over the phone. "I scheduled an appointment with the doctor after you left for school."

Izuku's now on the sidewalk, avoiding other people with practiced ease. "Really? Why?"

"Well, when you described letting out stored up energy from your Quirk, I got a bit concerned."

Izuku's lips pull into a thin line. "Is it Dr Yogisha?"

"Well, he was the one to diagnose you as Quirkless," his mom says. Izuku imagines her fiddling with her fingernails. "I know you didn't want to let anyone know about your Quirk, but this could be really serious, honey."

Izuku forces himself to take a deep breath. " I know mom. Talk about this when I get home?"

"Of course, I love you."

"Love you too, mom. Bye." He presses a button and ends the call. Pocketing the phone, Izuku drags a hand down his face. "Of all the people to go have my doctor's appointment with." It does make sense, though. Everyone and their mother has had dr. Yogisha diagnose their Quirk. If someone in Musatafu has trouble with their Quirk, they go to him. Yet the feeling of unease persists.

Well, it's for his mom. Izuku will just have to suck it up and deal with it. He's used to that, anyways.

-----

The doctors office Izuku steps into with his mother is greatly different from the one in his memory. Lifeless gray walls have been painted over with bright green hills and nauseatingly blue skies. There's a few kiddy chairs in the lobby, along with a few toys littered about for the kids to entertain themselves.

Izuku sits on the hippo seat as his mom checks him in. Taking out his phone, he tries his best to ignore his surroundings. There's a text from Uraraka. Iida, too.

Received 4:30 pm.
Sender: Uraraka
Hey Midoriya! There's a movie playing at 7 tonight at the mall, wanna come? I'm tryin to get Iida to come too but he's being boooring and saying we see some documentary instead.

Received 4:31 pm.
Sender: Iida
Uraraka has invited me to see a movie with the two of you. I will accept, of course, but I think that watching a documentary will be a much more educational way to spend our free time.

A smile tugs at Izuku's lips. He taps the two contact names and creates a group chat.

Sent 4:32 pm
Hey guys! Thought it'd be smart to make a gc for us. I'm game to see a movie, but idk if they're playing any documentaries.

Received 4:32 pm
Sender: Uraraka
omg great idea! Okay so I chose that new action movie that came out a week ago,
Bring money for snacks.

"Midiorya Izuku?" The man at the front desk calls. Izuku pockets his phone before he can type a reply and walks up to the desk with his mother. The desk worker takes a look at him and nods to himself. "Doctor Yogisha will see you now." He gestures to the door to Izuku's left. "Please step through the door so your height and weight can be measured."

Izuku is 166 centimeters and weighs heavier than he did in his last appointment. Muscle weighs more than fat, but even with that knowledge he's still surprised by just how many pounds he's gained.

Izuku swings his legs as he sits on the cushioned examination table. His mom's sitting to the side, cracking open a book and getting lost in the pages. The last time he was here, his life was seemingly ruined. Deemed without a Quirk, he'd left this place broken and sad. "Oh how the times have changed." He whispers to himself.

The door swings open, and Izuku is greeted with the bushy face of the man that'd condemned him. Dr Yogisha smiles, though the gesture is lost since his mustache hides his mouth. "Well, if I didn't have my glasses on, I'd say I was seeing things! You're a lot bigger than you were when you were four, young man."

Izuku smiles, his lips drawn thin. "Hello, Dr Yogisha."

The doctor nods, going to the computer at the work desk and typing in the password. "Now, your mother said the strangest thing to me over the phone. She said that you were having trouble with a new development in your Quirk."

His mom had put away her book the moment the doctor came in the room. "Yes sir, I did. You see-" She cuts herself off, looking to Izuku. "Well, I think it'd be best to have Izuku tell you himself."

Izuku closes his eyes and breathes. "I noticed my Quirk when I was six. A man was robbing the grocery store mom was shopping in. I knocked a glass jar over and broke it, but the robber didn't notice me."

Dr Yogisha's glasses glinted as he leaned close in interest. "And that's when you first took note of your Quirk? Were there any instances beforehand that suggested you had a Quirk?"

Izuku thinks back to when Bakugou would walk right past his hiding spot, even if he was clearly in the blond's line of sight. How he could zone out in class and not get called out by even the strictest of teachers. "No."

The rest of the appointment continues on much the same note. Dr Yogisha will ask a question, and Izuku will do his best to keep as much information to himself as possible. He omits the fact that tech can see through Notice Me Not, and doesn't mention the requirements for being seen at all.

He can't explain it without sounding crazy, but there's something off about the doctor. He's a bit too eager to ask questions, and his fascination with each answer only makes Izuku more suspicious.

"And you told your mother that there's been a new development?" Dr Yogisha puts his pen down to focus fully on Izuku.

Izuku's been reciting the lie in his head throughout the entire school day. He says it without a stumble or stutter. For the most part, it seems like the doctor believes him.

"Hmm, that's quite a development." Dr Yogisha says, pinching the edge of his mustache with a hand. "You haven't eaten anything weird recently, have you?"

Izuku remembers the morning of the exam. Specifically, All Might giving him a piece of hair and telling him to eat it. "No, I haven't."

"Well," The doctor scribbles on a note and tears it off to hand to his mom. "Until I can do some proper tests, I'm not too sure what can be done."

The last thing Izuku wants is that. "Actually, I had a teacher offer to help a few days ago." he blurts out.

The doctor clicks his tongue. "Ah, that's right, you got into Yuuei, didn't you. I heard that All Might was teaching there."

Something about the way Dr Yogisha says it makes Izuku wish Han was with him. Where Izuku's sense of reading people does have it's flaws, Han can do it without error. "Yeah, he teaches my heroics course." He feigns looking at his phone and acting shocked at the time. "Hey, mom, I gotta go soon, I promised I'd see a movie with my friends." Thank you, Uraraka.

His mom blinks. "You do?" He nods his head. "Oh! Well, I'm sure we can schedule another appointment later." She hurries to gather up her things. If he didn't know any better, Izuku would say that his mom's more ecstatic than he is. It's getting him out of the doctor's office though, so he isn't complaining. He gives one last wave to Dr Yogisha before closing the door with a bit more force than necessary.

-----

The movie ends up being okay. What really makes the night special is Uraraka floating pieces of candy into her mouth, or how Iida would quietly lecture them about the actual probability of landing a stunt on screen. In that night alone, Izuku laughs more than he has in months.

Another unseen benefit is that it takes his mind off of his appointment with Dr Yogisha. He laughs, he eats popcorn, he acts like a teenager. For once in his life, Izuku feels a bit closer to normal.

"That movie was so cool!" Uraraka cheers as they exit the theatre. "That was so worth my monthly savings!"

Iida pushes his glasses back into place. "I agree, even if the stunts were grossly improbable." He looks to Izuku. "What did you think, Midoriya?"

Izuku startles, "Oh, uh, I thought it was really cool, too." Come on, he can do better than that. "I liked how they made the main character a bit more complicated than the usual action hero." There we go.

"It's nice to have a bit of variety in those kinds of movies." Uraraka agrees. The three of them sit down at a bus stop. "Thanks for coming, guys. I know that I just kinda sprang it on you."

"Not at all," Iida says, "I rather enjoyed the change of pace. My brother has been saying that I need to go out more, anyways."

Izuku nods his head. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure my mom was happier than I was. I, uh, I didn't have a lot of friends back in middle school."

"Well I don't see why, you're a really cool guy, Midoriya." Uraraka punches Izuku's shoulder, then Iida. "The exam wonder trio has to stick together, right?"

The three of them smile like they're sharing a secret. The bus arrives and they load in, joking all the way to their stops.

In the end, Izuku is the last one on the bus, his stop being the furthest away. Sitting in his seat, he takes out his phone and opens his photo gallery. He stares at the dusty footprints. They'd be long gone by now, scuffed by foot traffic. Izuku looks at the picture and can't help but feel that it's the beginning of something, and not something good.

When he gets home, he hugs his mom, pets his cat, and goes to his room to redesign his hero outfit. Nothing major, little changes to optimize Notice Me Not and his defensive capabilities. He might be overthinking it, but there's no such thing as too careful. He hopes he's wrong.

Chapter Text

The next day, he goes to train with All Might again, except the hero isn't alone. Izuku was about to open his mouth to greet his teacher, but the sight of All Might cowering under a man a fourth of his height makes Izuku pause.

He's old, thats the first thing Izuku notices. Scowl lines run deep near the mystery man's mouth. His hair is gray, a color that clashes with the near obnoxious yellow of his outfit- is that a cape? Izuku isn't sure, he's not close enough to tell. Cautiously, he creeps closer.

The older man sniffs in disdain. "When did you say this brat was gonna show up, Toshinori?"

Was that All Might's name? Izuku shakes his head. That isn't important right now. He gets a little bit closer. The mystery man's costume is leaving a niggling sensation in the back of his head. He's seen it before, maybe a long time ago, but he's seen it. Where? He has to be one of the older heroes, one that came before All Might-

The name clicks in his head. "Gran Torino." He whispers. One of the more successful heroes before All Might's debut, he was able to move faster than any hero in his time.

Despite old age, it seems that Gran's hearing hasn't failed any. The old man's head whipped to Izuku, who startles at such a sudden movement. "When did you get in here?" The retired hero demands, holding his cane out at Izuku like a weapon.

All Might hurries to stand between them. Izuku can see that the hero is shaking. "Gran Torino," the trembling carried into his voice, too, "This is my successor, Midoriya Izuku."

Izuku swallows his (possibly justified) anxiety and steps from behind All Might. "Hello, sir." Izuku says, holding his hand out and bowing his head. "I'm sorry for surprising you. It's a...habit, of sorts."

Gran Torino eyes him up and down, Izuku resists the urge to shuffle his feet. "That Quirk of yours, the one besides One for All, it lets you go unnoticed?"

Izuku looks up, his hand still held out. "Ah, yes. I call it Notice Me Not. Of course, I don't know the full specifics of it but-" he yelps when the old hero's cane whacks him over the head.

"First things first," Gran Torino says, crossing his arms, "We're going to find out the limitations of your original Quirk. You're planning to use it alongside One for All, right?"

Wordlessly, Izuku nods, still rubbing his head.

"Then it'd be a crying shame to have you get spotted when you want to be unseen." Gran Torino looks around, grumbling. "Tell me honestly, kid. You know how to throw a punch?"

Izuku looks to All Might, then to Gran again. "Ah, no. Not a proper one, at least."

The old hero scoffs. "Of course you don't. Well, here's what's gonna happen, kid. Pay attention, cause I'm not gonna repeat myself."

Izuku leans in close, so does All Might.

"You're gonna learn how to throw some proper punches and kicks. After that, we're gonna test your original Quirk - see what it can and can't do." The hero cracks his neck, Izuku flinches at the sound. "Then, and only then, am I gonna help you with One for All. Capeesh?"

Izuku nods his head frantically. "Yes, sir."

Gran huffs, "Well, at least your student's got more manner than you did at that age."

All Might hurries to agree, Izuku can still see minute trembling in the hero's body. "Yes, sir. Understood."

What did Gran Torino do to make the number one Hero of all Japan so scared of him? Izuku isn't sure if he wants to find out.

"Well, kid?" Gran demands, tapping his foot impatiently. "No dillydallying! Lets get to work!"

Izuku has a bad feeling that he'll find out anyways.

-----

Izuku's damn near thankful for first period when it comes. Not even eight in the morning and he was craving a nap. Old he may be, but Gran Torino doesn't let a pesty thing like age get in the way of being a cruel task master. Izuku'd spent the entire practice session turning Notice Me Not on and off, seeing what'll get him noticed and what'll fly under the radar. So far, he hasn't learned anything he didn't already know. Gran Torino had clapped him on the shoulder and said "not half bad". Seeing that All Might was sighing in relief behind the retired hero, Izuku had decided to take it as a compliment.

Notice Me Not is still thrown around him as he enters the classroom, and this time, Uraraka doesn't see him until he taps her elbow. She looks up and shoots him a grin. "Good morning, Midoriya!"

"Hey, Uraraka." He mumbles back, taking his seat and toying with a mechanical pencil.

Iida appears in his line of sight. "Hello, Midoriya. I hope that you had a good night."

Izuku scratches at his head. "Yeah, my stop wasn't too far away from yours, so I still got home before nine thirty. How'd you sleep?"

They keep talking like that for a bit, and Izuku can feel himself falling into a comfortable little niche with his friends. Then Aizawa walks in and they have to quiet down. Even so, Izuku's mind is on more pressing matters than algebra. Specifically, he's thinking about his hero costume and what he can do to make it better. The flashbangs proved to be just as useful as he expected - case in point, the hero vs villain battle - but what else could he add? Until he gets a better handle on One for All, he's going to have to make do with his little knowledge of martial arts, Notice Me Not, and the arsenal he stocks himself with. Which made planning his costume at least ten times more important - he can't learn to control One for All if he's dead.

He wonders if they'll let him have a taser.

The lunch bell rings as he's pondering the pros and cons of having more flashbangs. He grabs his stuff just like everyone else, but instead of going towards the cafeteria, he makes for the open courtyard. He takes a deep breath of the afternoon air and finds an empty picnic table. He shoos away a bird perched on it and takes a seat, pulling out his lunchbox while he's at it.

His phone buzzes.

Received: 12:30 pm
Sender: Uraraka
Where are u?

Ah, he didn't tell them where he was going. Taking another bite of lunch, he types a reply.

Sent: 12:31 pm
I'm outside on one of the picnic tables

Received 12:31 pm
Sender: Uraraka
Ok but why??

Sent: 12:32 pm
The cafeteria's a bit loud. I try to avoid loud areas when I can

He regrets the text as soon as it's sent. Loud noises have always put Izuku on edge, especially if he's crowded, but having a friend know that such a trivial thing bothered him? He'd rather sit in the cafeteria. Two minutes later, Uraraka hasn't sent a reply. Turns out she doesn't have to.

"Midoriya!" A cheery, familiar voice calls. Izuku's head whips up to spot Uraraka and Iida heading his way. "Sorry it took so long to get out here, Iida wanted to get some salad and the line took forever." She draws out the last word for extra effect as she plops down next to him.

"Waiting a minute longer to get healthy food isn't very long." Iida says, taking a seat across from them.

Izuku pauses, staring at his two friends like they're from another world. "You guys didn't have to come out with me, you know."

Uraraka swallowed her mouthful of food. "But then you would be alone. Why wouldn't we want to eat with a friend?"

"Besides," Iida says, looking out to the scenery around them. "Taking a break from being inside is always a good idea."

Izuku stares at his food. "Yeah, that's a good point."

Uraraka playfully shoved him. "Don't look so sad, Midoriya! We wanted to come out here, it's no problem."

"If the teachers have a problem with us eating out here, they will come and tell us." Iida adds, "I prefer your and Uraraka's company over the cafeteria, anyways."

Izuku swallows, he doesn't know why there's a lump in his throat. "Thanks, guys." He puts down his fork and watches the trees. A nest isn't too far from where they're sitting, Izuku can see a little bird perched in it. It occurs to him that he hasn't tried to draw wildlife in a while.

There's a pencil in his pocket, and he always keeps a spare notebook in his backpack. Taking the paper out, he opens to the first blank page he can find and begins to sketch. The bird looks like some sort of sparrow, but Izuku can't say for certain. He's just gotten the shape of the bird's beak right when he notices that he has an audience.

"That looks amazing, Midoriya!" Uraraka exclaims, standing up to get a better look.

"It's upside down for me, but I agree." Izuku shyly hands Iida the notebook, "Ah, it looks even better upright."

Izuku can feel his cheeks burning at the praise. "I- thanks." He gently takes back his notebook.

"Now I wish we had art class." Uraraka says, "I'd kill to see more of your drawings."

"Please don't." Are the first words to blurt out of Izuku's mouth.

Both Uraraka and Iida laugh, Izuku smiles cautiously. "Nah, I wouldn't actually kill someone." Uraraka says, waving a hand. "But if it was Bakugou...." she lets the sentence peter off, a borderline savage smirk in place. "Well, I'm sure I'd find a way."

Izuku lets Iida lecture her about the morality of murdering a classmate and goes back to doodling. In all honesty, he isn't all that used to people so willing to defend him. No one, not even the teachers, have tried before. It's a nice change of pace.

A flash of red in his peripheral catches his eye. Looking to his right, he can see Todoroki taking a seat on a bench under a tree. Izuku hasn't seen him all that often outside of class, so it comes as a surprise. Is this where he disappears to outside of class? The sense of intrusion that washes over Izuku is near overwhelming. But then he recalls how good it feels to actually have people to talk to, and comes up with an idea.

All he has to do is stand up, walk over to Todoroki, and invite him to their table. Simple enough in theory, near impossible in practice. Keep in mind that this is Izuku who's trying to do it, and he has the self-confidence of a soggy peanut.

Time takes away his opportunity, anyways. The bell rings across campus, signaling the end of first lunch. Todoroki stands up from the bench and packs his things up with little hassle.

Izuku's startled out of his observing by a teasing elbow. "Looking at some eye-candy?" Uraraka asks, sly smirk on her face.

"No!" Izuku exclaims on instinct, "I mean- I wasn't-"

Uraraka laughs. "Relax, Midoriya. Pretty much everybody in our class can appreciate Todoroki's looks, even if he does act a bit cold."

Izuku tries to shove his embarrassment down with little success. "Yeah."

Iida, who was listening the entire time, stands. "Stop teasing Midoriya, Uraraka, we'll be late to class."

"Oh, shoot. You're right!" The next four minutes are a flurry of movement, packing their things in record time and rushing back to class. They make it right as the bell rings, and excluding the side-eye the three of them get from Aizawa, no one comments on it.

Going back to his seat, Izuku spots Todoroki. It's due to absolute horrible timing that he looks right as the other teen is looking at him. Their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds, then Izuku's mind goes back to what Uraraka said and he's quick to look away. His cheeks are tingling.

-----

Trying to not be put on a government watchlist is a lot harder than Izuku first thought. He tries to keep his reasearch to government-sanctioned websites, but the information they offer on registered villains is spotty at best and downright vague at worst. It doesn't help that he's looking for a specific Quirk. Not many people can disintegrate things, yet no one fitting his description is on the lists. Then again, he's only working with a possible Quirk and a shoe size.

Izuku sighs, putting his head in his hands. Han leaps up from the floor to butt his head against Izuku's.

"Thanks, Han." Izuku mumbles, sparing a hand to scratch under his cat's chin. Han leans into the hand, rumbling a purr. "It just doesn't make any sense." He tells the cat, "There's nothing here, not even a bare description. I can't hack into the government, mainly because that's illegal, but also because I can't hack. So what can I do?"

Han, being a cat, doesn't reply. He does, however, move over to the window and meow.

It's such a small thing, but it makes an epiphany go off in Izuku's head. "Han," he says, standing and picking up his cat to stare him in the face. "You're a genius."

Han bops him on the nose.

-----

Izuku's feet barely make a sound as he walks under the dim streetlights. He brings his jacket tighter around him and feels a brief moment of gratitude that his mom told him to bring gloves. She'd told him to be safe and come right home from the pet-store. What she doesn't know is that Han's food bag is near full, hidden in Izuku's closet to back up his little lie. The bitter taste of lying to his mom makes Izuku grimace.

It's not a long walk to the shadier parts of town, Izuku isn't sure wether or not that's a good thing. The buzz of Notice Me Not hums a tune of familiarity and comfort as he takes a breath and turns into the first alley.

There are two other people in the alley, both hooded and one handing some sort of package to the other. Izuku quickly recognizes that a drug deal is going on and plants himself to the wall. He doesn't so much as breathe until the two depart from the alley. He waits until their footsteps fade to move again. Okay, first try at recon and he walks into a drug deal. He'll say he's off to a pretty good start.

It takes two more alleys before Izuku stumbles across something substantial. Good timing, too, because it's the last one he can go into before his mom starts to worry. Two people stand close together, chatting as Izuku sneaks in, watching his step for anything underfoot. Izuku opts to nickname the first one "Punk", both because of his clothes, which are mostly leather, and the fact that he's blocking Izuku's view of the second person. Doesn't matter, he can still hear them.

"You sure that they're legit?" Punk asks, leaning on one leg as he puts his hands in his pockets. "Cause there's a lot of shit that could go wrong if they're not."

"They're the real deal." The unseen person says, Izuku thinks that it's a girl from the tone. "Saw their base n' everything. We gonna go through with it?"

Punk scratches the side of his head, humming, "Not like we have a choice, business' been slow."

Izuku, now thoroughly interested, creeps a bit closer. A base of some sorts and a 'business', the fact that they're in a dark alley only makes it more suspicious. He just might've found something to work with tonight. Which is of course right when his concentration lapses and he scuffs a can down the alley. The cheap aluminum clatters across the concrete, echoing like a gunshot in the quiet of the alley.

Punk whips around, eyes wide and hand holding a butterfly knife. Izuku freezes. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He doesn't even dare to breathe, not with the guy being a meter away and looking right past him. The girl behind Punk peers past her friend's midsection. Izuku can barely make out a hair color, much less what her face looks like.

"I thought you said you weren't followed." The girl hisses at Punk. "If they find out that we got spied on, we're dead, you hear me? Dead."

"I know that. Shut up." Punk growls back, taking a step forward and holding his knife in front of him. If Izuku leaned, the tip would scratch his cheek.

The powerful thrum of One for All vibrates in the vestiges of Izuku's body, a silent suggestion made by his subconscious. It would work, too. Neither of the two know he's there, he'll catch them fully off guard if he decides to attack. Yet the thought of mangled limbs and red stains on the concrete both deter him from the thought and bring a wave of nausea. No one's going to die tonight, at least, Izuku hopes so.

A handful of tense moments, and Punk puts away the butterfly knife. "Probably some stupid cat." The man grumbles. "Let's get outta here." He says to his friend, turning around and walking into the shadows.

Izuku hurries out of the alley and throws up in a trash can. He wipes his mouth, coughing up the last amounts of rancid bile. He never wants to do that again, but he'll have to if we wants to make any more progress. Izuku spits on the concrete and goes home, planning on a long shower and a mouthful of mouth wash. He freaking deserves it.

-----

Izuku submits his new designs for his hero costume the next day. Apparently, it's good timing, because before first period even begins, Aizawa tells the class about the USJ trip. Izuku's new suit is going to come in a single day before they go.

There's three days until the trip. In those days, Izuku hangs out with his friends, does his homework, walks the criminal-infested alleys near his home, and watches crap tv with his mom while Han purrs in his lap.

The one thing that stays the same is lunch. Every day, he and his friends have eaten outside. Every day, Todoroki is there, sitting alone under the tree. Izuku's lived almost his entire school life in isolation, he knows loneliness like no one else. Todoroki, while often deadpan and quiet, sometimes gets a wistful look in his eye when he sees people talking to each other. Not that Izuku had been staring, of course.

Even with this newfound solidarity in loneliness, Izuku still hasn't mustered up the courage to talk to Todoroki. He tells himself that he'll do it, but nothing ever comes of it, he always chokes. Before Izuku knows it, the day of the USJ has come.

Everyone is already wearing their costumes when they load into the bus. There's no real change to Izuku's costume beyond some new pockets and fingerless gloves. Even so, it doesn't stop Uraraka from gushing over him.

"Those gloves are so cool, Midoriya!" She grabs his hand and holds it out, splaying his fingers to observe where the fabric ends and his digits begin. "I need to get a pair for my costume, too."

Asui leans forward in her seat. "Those are pretty practical, Midoriya." She brings her own gloved hand up, clenching and unclenching. "There are more for balance when I jump."

"My Quirk doesn't really let me wear gloves," Kirishima adds, lifting a hardened arm to demonstrate. "But yours are really cool, man, very manly!"

For all the talking he's been doing with Uraraka and Iida, it doesn't really prepare him for talking to people that aren't them. "Th-thanks. Your costume looks really manly, too." Izuku's lips draw into a thin line and he stares out the window across from him. He wishes he could activate Notice Me Not and just vanish until they got to the USJ. It would make the chances of shoving his foot in his mouth a lot less likely. Why does he open his mouth?

But Kirishima doesn't react the way Izuku is expecting him to. The redhead clenches a fist close to his chest, Izuku can see tears in the other teen's eyes. "Returning a compliment with a compliment...so manly..."

That's when Mina jumps into the conversation. "You're kinda cool, Midoriya, didya know that?"

Izuku's face somehow gets redder as he splutters for an answer.

Too late, Asui speaks up. "You have a much more agreeable personality than Bakugou over there." He juts at thumb at the blond in question and Izuku just about has a heart attack.

"Shut up you loser!" Bakugou snaps, grabbing the hand rail in front of him and leaning forward. On Izuku, the gesture would have made him cower, but Asui doesn't even look back at him.

"See?"

"Bakugou's got a real temper on him," Kaminari agrees, "You gotta wonder why he wants to be a hero with that personality."

The rest of the bus trip, Izuku watches how his classmates tease Bakugou with a sense of terrified awe. This is how people with confidence interact, Izuku feels like he should be taking notes. Maybe one day he'll get to the point where even he, who has suffered under Bakugou for years, can make fun of him. That day isn't today, so he tries his best to distance himself and watches from afar.

-----

Everything went to hell in a handbasket so fast, Izuku had little to no time to go over the bare details in his head, so much so that he was kind off impressed. It all starts with the rescue hero Thriteen telling them what's in store, a black void appears in the center of the USJ. Izuku has Notice Me Not up before the first slew of villains can even step through. He isn't an idiot, he saw Thirteen hold up three fingers to Aizawa when the class first walked in. All Might isn't coming, and unless someone can get word to school, no one will be coming. Not until everyone here is cooling on the concrete-

Izuku shoves those thoughts into the corner when the black void - no, it's a villain, someone with a warping Quirk - appears where they are. Izuku isn't all that surprised when Bakugou lunges, but it's a surprise when Kirishima jumps into the fray, too.

Dust flies as their attacks hit, but not so much as a scratch was lain on the villain. Two glowing yellow eyes, narrow and radiating cold malice emerge from the dust.

"My, my, that's dangerous." The villain's voice could curdle fresh milk. Goosebumps run over Izuku's arms. "Hello, my name is Kurogiri, and my job is to scatter you all and torture you to death." Without any more of a warning, the villain expands.

Bakugou and Kirishima are the first to disappear in the inky darkness. Izuku's backing up before the second wave of mist hits his other classmates. It's over in a matter of seconds, and nearly all of his classmates are gone. Uraraka, Iida, Sero, Mina, and Shoiji are the only other teens on the platform. Izuku doesn't doubt for a second that if he hadn't had Notice Me Not up, he would have been warped along with everyone else.

Thirteen is talking to Iida, telling him to run. Logically, it makes sense, but Izuku's friend doesn't want to leave everyone behind. Thirteen manages to convince him, and that's when Izuku palms the mint-condition taser strapped to his belt. The metal that Kurogiri has on isn't falling through his body, meaning that some part of it is solid, more importantly, it's touching him.

Notice Me Not won't be able to activate after he attacks, he has to make his one shot at surprise count.

Izuku taps Uraraka just as Iida makes a break for it. "Uraraka, I need you to use your Quirk on me." He tells her.

His friends jumps in surprise, "Midiorya! When did you-"

"No time for questions!" Izuku hisses, using a hand to discretely point at the mist villain. "Make me weightless, then throw me at him!"

Thankfully, Uraraka wastes no more time. Within moments, Izuku is flying through the air. She has a surprisingly impressive throwing arm, he sails straight at the villain like a baseball.

There's no time for panic, to worry that this is the first time he's taking on a villain. If he hesitates, he's dead and Iida doesn't get out. That is not an option. The taser is already in his hands by the time he reaches Kurogiri. He can feel the buzz though his gloves when he presses the button, electricity sparks between the two metal prongs, then branch out once they make contact with the metal plating.

"Agh!" Kurogiri howls with pain and shock, the mist contorting and compressing in pain. Izuku's wrapped up in mist and warped away before he can see what becomes of Iida.

The sensation of falling is not a familiar one, and while inside the villain's warp gate, Izuku feels like he's falling in every direction. There's no up or down, left or right, all there is is darkness and the sound of air whooshing past his ears. The experience can't have lasted more than a moment, but Izuku feels like he's trapped for an eternity in the disorienting dark. Then he's dumped unceremoniously on the ground. It takes a second for Izuku to learn where he is, but when a villain goes flying over his head, he has a pretty good idea.

There's never been clear-cut footage of Eraserhead's fights, a few fuzzy pictures, sure, but there'd be so much movement in the photo that nothing could be discerned beyond the thin tendrils of his capture tool. Seeing the underground hero fight in person is by far better than any footage. The man moves gracefully, yet effectively. No movement is without a reason, and with Eraserhead's goggles hiding who he's looking at, the teamwork that the crowd of villains would need to have a chance against him is gone.

The feeling of weightlessness abandoned Izuku the moment he passed through the portal, yet the buzz of Notice Me Not is back up and running, proven by how the villains run right past him to the visible target. He stands up with a grunt and looks around.

The tinge of chaos makes everything more vivid. The sound of fighting not too far away from him, his heart racing in his chest, the terrifying thought that Iida failed clinging to his mind. All of it's enhanced by adrenaline, which is probably why his eyes go right over Asui and Mineta the first time he looks at the water.

His classmates look worse for wear - Asui has a cut on her cheek that's bleeding quite a bit, and Mineta looks about ready to faint - but alive. He starts towards them, but pauses when the familiar void of Kurogiri reappears at the center of the USJ. He can't hear then, the distance between them too far for the words to carry, but the way the head villain reacts has Izuku smiling. Iida got out, helps on the way.

Then the head villain, a skinny man with hands all over him, says something to the hulking creature beside him. The hair on the back of Izuku's neck rises at the sight of the thing, and his heart drops into his chest when it takes steps towards Eraserhead. 1-A's teacher may be extremely well trained at hand to hand combat, but even he'll have troubles with this thing.

Nothing Izuku can do will help against that creature, he'll be more useful to Eraserhead getting his classmates out of the line of fire. The sound of the fighting provides adequate cover for him to sneak over to Asui and Mineta. He crouches, poking both of them. "Are you guys okay?"

Mineta startles, eyes bugging out. "Woah, where the heck did you come from?"

Asui, by comparison, was calmer. "Ah, Midoriya. We got warped into the shipwreck zone, some villains tried to hurt us, but I got both of us out of there in time."

Izuku nods, "Right, you're faster in the water. Was anyone else with you?"

Asui shakes her head. A rush of relief flows over Izuku. "No, it was just me and Mineta. Everyone else is somewhere different."

Okay, Izuku can worth with this. "Thirteen is still at the entrance, head up there. Don't get seen." Easy for him to say.

"But what about Eraserhead?"

Izuku looks back to their teacher. The hero leaps over the creature that charges at him, using its back as a spiringboard. Izuku turns back to his classmates. "He's a pro, he can handle himself, but he can't fight these guys and look out for you at the same time." He holds his hand out for them to take, that's when things go wrong.

Mineta's eyes widen in horror, but they're looking past Izuku. He turns around and feels his heart skip.

Eraserhead's elbow comes off in flakes of skin, exposing muscle and ligament. Izuku thinks of a children's anatomy book and swallows bile, the real thing is much worse than what's on paper. Eraserhead makes the villain responsible for his elbow reel back with a kick. Izuku fixates on a section of the ground, a section that the villain had touched for the briefest of moments. A little dent of dust resides in the concrete.

"Like the entrance gate..." Izuku whispers, more to himself than anything. "He's the one that did it - it was a warning, that worse things would come." And Izuku spent five nights trying to hunt down information on them. If Notice Me Not had faltered, or he'd actually found their base? He doesn't want to think about it.

Turns out, he doesn't have to, because any rational thought ends when the creature grabs Eraserhead and pins him to the ground. The cheer difference in size between the two makes Izuku nauseous, it wouldn't take a lot of force on the creature's part to shatter his teacher's skull. Even so, an underlying hum of danger has Izuku putting Notice Me Not back up. Something's about to happen, Izuku doesn't know what, but he has a feeling that nothing good will come from it.

He ends up being right. The head villain - the one with the hands - makes a break in his, Asui, and Mineta's direction. Spindly fingers stretching out, reaching for a victim, the villain looks like a reaper coming for them. Even so, he does not see Izuku.

He'll probably look back and say nerves made him do it, but Izuku refuses to allow any more people get hurt. Not today, not ever, not when he's there. Because every time he's been in danger, no one has come to help, no one besides the pros, whose entire job is doing just that. Izuku's a far cry from any kind of pro hero, but he refuses to stand by and be useless, stand by and live up to being a Deku.

Notice Me Not falters when he rushes to stand in front of his classmates, Izuku hazards a guess and chalks it up to sudden movement. The blip of his presence does nothing to slow the villain down, but it does make Mineta aware to him again.

"Midoriya!"

Izuku wants to curse when the other teen speaks. Notice Me Not fizzles away like carbonation at his name being called. The villain falters in his stride, surprised to see a third student when originally he'd seen two. Thankfully, he's close enough for it to not matter.

Izuku spreads his feet. His gloved fists come up in a boxer's stance. He takes a breath, then two, and when the villain's momentum carries him into Izuku's range, he strikes.

The foreign feeling of solid bone against his fist makes his knuckles hurt. Izuku has a quick moment of relief that he doesn't use One for All. His fist alone does enough damage. The villain carries himself into the hit, making the blow that much more damaging. He stumbles back, clutches at his mouth tightly. The jaw itself doesn't look right, too jutted forward to be normal. A little voice in the back of Izuku's head tells him he dislocated the villain's jaw.

The villain glares at him past a hand covering his upper face. Izuku swears that the man's eyes glow red. "A Rogue this early in the game?" The words slur around in the villain's mouth, trying to articulate beyond a dislocated jaw. "How...surprising."

Izuku doesn't reply. He doesn't look away from the villain for a second as he asks, "Asui, Mineta, get going."

"But-"

Izuku's life made the value of patience abundantly clear to him early on, yet now, that hard-earned patience wanes. "Now!" He hisses, forcing the words through clenched teeth. "Before this guy gets the bright idea to try again." He hears the sound of splashing and wet footsteps, slowly fading in the distance.

The villain pops his jaw back into place with a pained grunt. "Staying behind to fight me?" The mania returns to his voice, "How typical."

Izuku swallows. "You're here for a reason." He begins, trying his hardest to keep the tremor out of his voice. It would be a lot easier if he couldn't feel the malice radiating off of the man in front of him. "Why?" He slips a hand behind his back, gripping his taser reassuringly. The device has been trustworthy so far, and while the villain has no metal on his person, getting electrocuted will still hurt.

"To kill All Might, why else?" The casualty of the statement makes Izuku want to run, run and hide and never look at this person again. But that's not an option. "But then we show up and he's not even here." Disdain drips from the villain, "So I guess I'll just have to make do by killing you."

A terrible thought occurs to Izuku. Iida got out of the USJ, he's getting help right now. Izuku's bet his life savings (a measly amount, sure, but still all he has) that All Might is going to show. His jaw aches with how hard he clenches his teeth. "You can try." Izuku tells him, "But you've already messed up, more than once, what's to say that you wont mess up again?"

Probably not the best idea to antagonize the person who can disintegrate things by touching them, but Izuku's self-preservation has always been pretty abysmal.

"Oh?" The villain cocks a head, strands of greasy hair falling to the side.

"You didn't know that All Might wasn't here." Izuku begins to list off the things that pop up off the top of his head. "You didn't know any of the Quirks my classmates have. You don't even know when All Might's going to show up, if he even does."

The villain's fingers twitch, itching to touch something, probably Izuku. "Oh, he'll show up." He growls, "That's what hero's do when their precious little investments are in trouble. And the look on All Might's face when he sees your corpse? I plan to savor every moment of it." With no warning, he lunges.

Izuku brings up an arm to block, but only remembers the villain's Quirk when a hand wraps around Izuku's arm. He tenses, expecting his costume to flake away like his teacher's skin. Yet nothing happens.

The villain pauses, then lets out a low scoff. "Erasing my Quirk right before I touched him." He looks over his shoulder, and Izuku can see his teacher still being held down by the creature. "You're really cool, Eraserhead." He makes a sharp gesture with his free hand. The creature lifts Eraserhead up by the hair, then slams him on the concrete.

It's overdone, but Izuku swears that time slows down in that moment. His breath stays frozen in his chest, each heartbeat feels lethargic. These villains have invaded a place meant to be safe for children, threatened said children, and have in general made a problem of themselves. Frayed nerves and adrenaline combine to create an emotion that Izuku hasn't felt ever before. It blooms in his chest, each petal unfurling to wrap around his limbs, imbuing them with energy. For once in Izuku's life, he is angry - no, he is furious - and now he has an opportunity to make his tormentor pay.

The villain turns around just in time for his face to be reacquainted with Izuku's fist. He stumbles, but Izuku doesn't let him gain ground, the hand behind his back comes forward, pushing the taser into the villain's side. A press of a button and he goes rigid, the electricity sparking through his spine. Izuku watches dispassionately when the villain crumples. He doesn't have time to linger on him, anyways. Eraserhead's head remains in the grip of the creature. The thing's never moved unless an it was issued an express command, but Izuku refuses to risk it.

Which is right when a familiar voice echoes through the USJ. Izuku's heard almost every tone All Might's used and then some, yet he had never heard the hero genuinely angry - until now.

"It's alright now. Why? I, am here."

In any other case, All Might's arrival would be a relief. Now, however, it makes Izuku's stomach twist. The villains have some sort of plot to kill All Might, they wouldn't go through so much effort to attack the USJ if those words were merely an empty threat. izuku turns around just in time to see the main villain be warped near the center by Kurogiri. The thing holding Eraserhead down releases the hero and ambles over to the two villains. Izuku resist the impulse to rush over and check on his teacher, the buzz of Notice Me Not is back in place, any sudden movement will ruin that and All Might will have another thing to worry about.

A flash of white catches his eye. A few of his classmates emerge from different disaster zones, looking scruffy, but not as bad as Izuku feared.

All Might drops in from the stairs, cracks spindle from the impact zone all the way to Izuku's feet.
Even so, Izuku's attention is elsewhere.

Todoroki is twenty feet away, give or take, and eyeing the fight about to break out with wariness. Izuku swears he can see frost coming off of the other teen, preparing for things to go south.

And go south things did. Izuku had completely forgot about Kurogiri, and hearing him explain what would happen if he closes the gate with someone still inside makes Izuku want to both punch something and feel sick to his stomach. He hears the crackle of ice before he sees it, watching in awe as it wraps around the creature - a Noumu, apparently - and weakens it enough for All Might to escape.

There are two other people next to Todoroki now. Kirishima, Izuku is relived to see. Bakugou? Not so much. Even so, if they want to be of any use if things go wrong again, they have to work together, all four of them.

Izuku's gait changes with every step - awkward to do, since he refuses to look away from the fight - but makes it to the other three. He opens his mouth, but the words don't come out. He swallows and tries again.

"We need a plan if things go south again."

It's short, simple, and startles the living crap out of Kirishima.

"Jeez, Midoriya!" The redhead exclaims, "Do we need to put a bell on you?"

"It'd be counterproductive at this point." Izuku replies, "Ill say it again: we need a plan."

Bakugou snorts, Izuku takes a step back. "And why should we listen to you, Deku?"

Oddly, after facing a bonafide villain, Bakugou's voice doesn't make Izuku tense like it used to. "Because these villains will go after us if it's convenient, and I don't know about you, but I want to give them hell."

Bakugou huffs, though Izuku's been around him long enough to understand the grudging acceptance in the gesture. The fight still going on, they try to make a plan.

"Todoroki," the teen in question nods at being addressed, "If any of them come our way, you're the first line of defense, make it not worth the effort of coming after us. If that doesn't work," Izuku turns to Bakugou and Kirishima, "It's up to all of us to keep ourselves alive."

In the end, the plan is redundant, no villain even looks at them. Everyone's attention is on the fight between All Might and Noumu. Every blow exchanged has Izuku flinching, the sheer force of their punches could be felt even from where he and the others stand.

But then, oh then, All Might sends the Noumu flying, breaking through the ceiling and disappearing from sight.

"Oh man," Kirishima's hands are cupped around his eyes to squint past the new glaring sunlight. "This is what it means to be a pro, huh?"

"They're on a whole other level." Todoroki agrees, a bit less awestruck.

But Izuku's not looking at the newly made, Noumu-sized hole. It's almost indiscernible from the dust swirling around him, but steam wafts off of All Might as if he'd stepped out of the sauna a moment before. Time's up, but only All Might and Izuku know that. He sees Kurogiri and the other villain stand and rush the hero. All Might's too spent to do anything, no one else is fast enough...except for him.

The ease in which he decides to break his legs should be concerning, but at this point Izuku's too busy aiming a One-for-All powered fist at the two villains to care. He opens his mouth, letting Notice Me Not fade away. "Hey!" The volume of his voice surprises even him. His proclamation does its job, the villains are now focused on him. Clenching his teeth, Izuku's fist comes forward. The blast's nothing compared to the ones from All Might's fight with the Noumu, but it's just enough to blow the villains a good distance away. In the distance, Izuku can hear the arrival of more heroes. Got timing, cause he falls to the ground with a thud, three of his four limbs broken. He took a deep breath.

"Shit this hurts." The profanity comes out without warning. "Seriously, this is awful." He cranes his neck to look at All Might, then the villains. "Well, I got them away. There's that. Go me."

The villain he blasted away stands up, eyeing him with bloodlust. "My name" the villain rasps, "Is Shigaraki Tomura. Remember that, Rogue, because I'll be the one to remove you from the game. Permanently." He vanishes before Izuku can shove a reply in.

All Might's face shows a mix of concern and amusement. "Midoriya, my boy, you really saved me there."

Izuku grins, thoroughly exhausted, "Well, someone's gotta." He gives a half hearted wave with his non-broken arm. "Wish this wouldn't happen every time though."

All Might laughs with him, "Yes, you and Gran Torino are working on that, though." It occurs to Izuku that All Might's just playing along because he's in shock.

His field trip got hijacked by villains, he tased a villain, punched another one in the face, and broke at least six bones. Izuku's gonna chalk it up as a pretty eventful day. He lays his head on the ground and closes his eyes, listening to approaching heroes with less and less attention. He's out like a light by the time one of them picks him up.

Chapter Text

Izuku wakes up in a bed. This in itself isn't out of the ordinary, except Izuku remembers passing out on the USJ floor, exhausted and scared and happy to be alive. Now he's in a bed. Excuse him if he's a bit confused.

"Ah, you're awake." The grandmotherly voice of Recovery Girl says. Izuku cranes his neck to look at her. Bags hang heavy under her eyes, and more than a few strands of hair are out of place. She looks like exhaustion itself. “That’s good. The other teachers were beginning to worry.”

Izuku swallowed, “Am I going to get another lecture?”

Recovery Girl sighs, “I want to give you one, I really do. But if you hadn’t stepped in, there’s no telling how badly Mineta and Asui could have been hurt. Not to mention All Might.” She puts her clipboard down and fixes him with a stern stare, “Just this once, you’re lecture-free.”

Izuku sighs in relief, then realizes part of what the nurse just said. “All Might?” He sits up further despite of the wooziness that washes over him, “Is he okay? Is he in a hospital? Is he-“

A voice speaks up from the bed beside him. “My boy, your worrying is going to wake me up.”

“Sorry.” Izuku apologizes, then realizes that he knows that voice. He turns around to see All Might looking more like a walking bandage than a man. “All Might!”

The hero cracks open an eye to look at him. His mouth pulls into a smirk. “Hello, young Midoriya.” He closes his eye and sighs. “I did a real number on myself back there. How’s it on your end?”

Izuku gives himself a quick once over. His right arm is in a cast, plain white plaster catching in the setting sunlight and making him squint. His legs seem fine though, which’s a miracle in itself, really. He still remembers how it felt to have his legs flop around like his bones were jello. To be fair, with the stunt he pulled he pretty much did turn them to paste. “Uh, not too bad.” He purses his lips, “I can walk?”

All Might puffs out a laugh. “Well, that’s more than what I can say.” They share a weak laugh at that.

Recovery girl looks between the two of them and sighs. “You, mister,” She points an accusing finger at All Might, “are a horrible influence. I pulled up Midoriya’s medical record from before he entered Yuuei. Do you know how many broken bones he had before he came here?”

Izuku probably should save his mentor from the incoming rant, but the dizziness gets to be too much and he plops back into bed. Maybe All Might will avoid it without Izuku’s help. Either way, he listens to the conversation and shuts his eyes. He can’t see anything, but All Might sounds sheepish when he answers.

“...Two?”

He hears the smack of a clipboard hitting a desk. “None! Not a single broken bone! And in the few weeks he’s been here, he’s broken over half the bones in his body!”

Yikes. Izuku hasn’t put much thought into that before. He hopes his mom doesn’t know-

“Mom!” He exclaims as he shoots up in bed. “Does she know-“

“Principal Nedzu called her himself to update her on your condition.” Recovery Girl soothes, guiding him into lying back down with a gentle hand. “It’s almost seven, now that you’re awake, you’ll be able to go home.” She shoots a look to All Might, “I can’t say the same for you, however.”

All Might gives Izuku a weak smile, “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to our morning training. I’m sorry, my boy.”

Of all the things for his mentor to be worrying about. “Don’t be, you need to recover after fighting that...” his words peter off at the memory of the hulking beast All Might has beaten at the USJ. That thing would’ve torn anybody else limb from limb, it came close to that with Eraserhead. He doesn’t want to see something like that thing ever again. “I can handle a raincheck.”

All Might gives him a strange look. “You’re a good kid, Midoriya.” He makes a shooing gesture when Izuku splutters at the statement. “Go on, your mom must be worried sick about you. I’ll be fine.”

Recovery girl gives Izuku a once-over before clearing him. She hands him a bag of strawberries and tells him to be careful. Izuku’ll have to ask where she gets all the fruit from sometime. For now though, he just smiles, thanks her, and bids the two heroes a good night.

After the general insanity of the day, the walk home is peaceful, eerily so. Izuku keeps expecting someone to jump out and attack him or something. He tries to calm himself down, if someone tried it, he reasons, he could take them, even with his cast. It works to a degree, but he still feels relieved when he spots his apartment complex.

Han’s sitting on the armrest of the couch when Izuku opens the door. He hops off and rushes to him, rubbing against his pants and letting out a loud meow. In spite of the day, as terrible as it’s been, Han makes him smile. “Hey, bud.” He says, crouching down and scratching the cat’s chin. Han nudges at his cast in curiosity, “That’s for my arm, Han, I need it until tomorrow. You’ll get plenty of pets when I come home.” Han doesn’t seem to like the idea of one-handed pets instead of two, but licks the fingers poking out of his cast anyways.

“Izuku? Are you home?” He hears mom come down the hallway and stands up just as she appears. He has two seconds before he’s wrapped up in a hug. He can smell his mother’s shampoo as her shoulders shake. “Honey,” she’s barely holding it together, “tell me you’re alright? Nothing’s hurt?”

Izuku smiles weakly, “I’m fine mom. Besides the cast, I’m fit as a fiddle.” He manages to wrap his non-casted arm around her, “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

His mom sniffles, “You should be!”

Izuku’s the most awful son in the world, worrying his mom like this. The worst part is that he knows he’s going to keep doing it. He can’t just stop now, he’s come too far. Still, he laughs, because no matter what he can always count on her caring about him. “What’s for dinner?” He asks, peeling away from his mom. “I’m starving.”

They haven’t gone on their weekly grocery trip yet, the fridge looks sad when it’s that empty. Mom ends up re-heating leftovers. They eat in front of the TV, some soap opera mom’s been obsessed with lately. He laughs at the funny parts, gasps at the not-so-surprise twists, and in general relaxes after what can be safely considered a shit day. His elbow brushes his mom’s every over moment, and the constant reassurance that she’s there and this isn’t some weird coma-dream he made up in his head is more comforting than it should be.

It’s around ten when he turns in for the night. Han follows him down the hall and makes it into his room right before Izuku closes the door. “You’re going to crush your tail one day,” he tells his cat, “and it’s going to be your fault but you’ll still blame me.” Han gives a single, slow blink before contorting himself to lick his hind legs. “Great. Glad we cleared that up.”

His bed is absurdly comfortable when he plops down on it. He exhales and looks at the ceiling, his thoughts buzzing around in his head. Shigaraki had called him a Rogue, a reference to D&D - which existed before Quirks, and only grew more complex afterwards. Even thinking about the man’s hand-covered face makes goosebumps run down his arm.

He could have died today. His classmates could have died. All Might could have died. But nobody did, well, not yet, Eraserhead’s still in critical condition. He hadn’t been in the infirmary when Izuku woke up — he had to be in a proper hospital. Either that, or the morgue.

Izuku stops that train of thought and sits up with a groan. His laptop’s on the desk, he grabs it and sits back on the bed. The screen almost blinds him when he turns it on, he has to squint until he logs on and turns the brightness down. He clicks the file he has labeled as “Suspicious Things” and scrolls through the many, many subfiles he’s made. He selects on the one he’d made after the security breach at school, the one with the dusty footprints and the alley he’d found them in. He opens a word doc and begins to type.

Things just got a lot more complicated.

——

“That fucking Rogue,” Shigaraki mutters, glaring at the wall, “Has made things a lot more complicated. We could have had All Might’s head on a silver platter, his guts splayed on the floor for everyone to see. But noooooo—“ he throws his hands up in annoyance, “A prepubescent chia pet blasts us across the USJ with a punch. It’s bullshit!”

Everything had been going to plan at first. They arrived, Thirteen was put out of commission, Eraserhead was as good as dead. Then give a green haired brat five minutes and suddenly it all goes to hell. It wasn’t even Shiagarki’s fault! The kid just showed up out of nowhere and decked him. It was a pretty solid hit, too, popping his jaw back into place had hurt like a bitch. The bruise is pretty ugly, mottled purples and angry reds with sickly yellow ringing the borders.

“I was unaware that UA allowed their students to carry tasers.” Kurogiri comments, taking out a bottle of strong alcohol and pouring himself a glass. “Perhaps it would be wise for me to invest in something plastic instead of metal.”

Ugh, the taser. Shigaraki rubs his sore side and growls, the ache of it still lingering. “Kid’s fucking scrappy. If he wasn’t a little goody-two-shoes hero wannabe, I’d think of recruiting him.” And what a sight that would have been. If that kid had been more ruthless, a bit less moral, it would have been game over. The thought makes his fists clench and creak under the pressure.

“No point in thinking of the ‘what if’s.” Kurogiri tells him, “Sensei will want to speak with you about the recent developments.” And with eerie timing, the tv, which the bartender moved to the side of the room, flickers on with a crackle.

“I understand that things went sideways.” A distorted voice buzzes, belonging to the nondescript shadow showing on the screen. “What happened, Shigaraki?”

Shigaraki scrambles over to the TV screen, eager to take in his Sensei’s advice. Sensei will help him fix this annoying Rogue problem. He’ll make everything as it should be, and Shigaraki can go back to killing the symbol of peace. “Sensei, there was a cheater at the USJ.” He bares his teeth, teeth grinding against each other, “He ruined everything! I want his head on a pike!”

Sensei cocks his head to the side, considering. “He? A single person did this?”

Shigaraki nods, “A first-year brat with green hair and a Quirk like All Mights.” He omits how the little bastard got the drop on him and the taser he used. Sensei would be disappointed as it is, the shame that coils in Shigaraki at the thought makes him scratch frantically at his neck. “He ruined everything, Sensei.”

Sensei‘s voice, distorted as it is, takes a pondering tone. “A Quirk like All Might’s, hm?” The shoulders of the figure on the screen begin to shake. Sensei’s laughter fills the bar, raspy and static, with a tinge of surprise. “It appears that you have a new player on the field, Shigaraki. I recommend that you step your game up, or he might overtake you.”

Shigaraki growls at the mere suggestion of it. “I swear, Sensei, I will kill that brat myself.” His lips pull into a smile, chapped skin cracking, “In front of All Might, if I can help it.”

The figure laughs again, more subdued. “Good luck, Shigaraki.” Sensei bids, “I’ll be watching.” The screen flickers off, leaving Shigaraki and Kurogiri alone in the bar.

Shigaraki touches the screen with reverence, pinky raised to keep it from disintegrating. “I wont disappoint you, Sensei.”

——

Izuku goes to the school’s gym out of habit. The sun hasn’t even peaked over the horizon when he arrives. All Might’s still in the nurse’s office, Izuku’d have to be a new level of asshole to expect the man to train him today. Leftover grogginess clings to his eyes as his feet crunch fallen leaves on the sidewalk. He pauses near the gym entrance, surprised to see a familiar face standing at the front doors.

“You were almost late.” Gran Torino huffs, his arms crossed and his lips pulled into a small scowl. “What, you thought that since Toshinori’s out of commission you can slack off?”

Izuku thinks on his answer, eyeing Gran Torino’s walking stick warily. He makes sure to stay out of whacking distance when he says, “No, sir. I wasn’t planning on slacking off. I don’t want All Might to push himself, so I was planning on training alone today.”

Gran eyes him for a moment then scoffs, uncrossing his arms. “Well, at least you got work ethic.” He pushes the door open with a hand, “Get in. You’re training, but it’s not gonna be alone.”

If Izuku thought Gran had been tough in the last few training sessions, he didn’t know jack, cause the elderly hero cranked the usual routine up to eleven. He’s on his feet for fifteen seconds at most before he’s knocked on his ass. Gran is a blur, zipping from wall to wall in bursts of air. It’s stressful the first few times, trying to keep up, but stress turns to frustration soon enough. He’s getting creamed and he can’t even land a hit, much less a decent one.

“Come on, boy!” Gran yells at him, “Get in gear and use that Quirk of yours!”

Get in gear. Gee, why hadn’t Izuku thought of that? No time for snark though, he just barely dodges the next attack. There’s a split second where Gran’s back is turned, his eyes not on Izuku. That’s when Notice Me Not comes up and he sidesteps the rebound leap the older hero makes. Gran falters when he can’t see his target but doesn’t stop moving. Izuku can’t help the grin on his face.

“Try channeling One for All into your hand.”

The memory comes from nowhere, a sudden appearance that gives Izuku an epiphany. Keeping Notice Me Not up as he charges One for All up is a challenge, like trying to both hold water and let it trickle out without spilling. His unbroken hand starts to hum, and he can see the red veins of pure energy hiding under his skin. It’s nowhere near the amount he feels when he goes all out, not by a long shot, but it should be enough to end the training exercise. His eyes struggle to keep up with Gran, but once he has an idea of where the hero will be next, Izuku rushes forward and throws a punch.

It’s strange to feel how fast Izuku’s fist goes, like it’s lighter than the world around it, but it doesn’t matter. Gran manages to maneuver away at the last second, leaping to the wall across from Izuku. He doesn’t jump back to him, instead, he lands on the floor. “Well,” He huffs, dusting his hands, “took you long enough to figure it out.”

Izuku stays where he is, staring at the old hero while trying to catch his breath. “You were waiting for me to use Notice Me Not.” He says, standing to his full height and examining his hand, unbroken, thank God.

Gran doesn’t confirm or deny it, “You’ve got a unique combo of Quirks, kid.” He says, coming towards Izuku and poking him on the chest. “Most of the heroes these days rely on flashy Quirks and heavy hits, but all the power in the world doesn’t mean jack if you can’t even hit your opponent.”

Izuku thinks back to yesterday, when he hit Shigaraki without One for All. He doesn’t doubt that if it wasn’t for Notice Me Not, his hand would have been disintegrated for his effort. “I think I understand. You think I should combine Notice Me Not and One for All more often.”

His response makes the older man lower his head and grin. It’s one of the few times Izuku’s seen Gran smile. “Well son of a gun,” he chuckles, “He can be taught.” The amusement fades from his voice, “Come on, we’re doing that two more times then getting you to Recovery Girl so you can get that cast off.”

Izuku’s starting to see just why All Might’s afraid of this tiny man. He doesn’t want to earn the hero’s ire though, so he groans and does as Gran says. It’s going to be a really long day.

——

Naomasa’s been friends with Toshinori for a while. It’s a good thing, too, because he’s not sure if anyone else would be able to keep up with the sheer amount of nonsense the hero gets into. Taking down a villain or two? Sure, fine, ok, Naomasa sees that five times before breakfast. Helping an old lady cross the street? Also fine, he’s seen Toshinori spend actual hours of daytime doing that.

Using up his time limit before the school day begins, then using 110% fighting a literal behemoth? Not okay.

“You’re an idiot.” He reminds his friend. The nurse’s office is mercifully empty, no other students to see Toshinori’s true form. Naomasa’s sitting on a chair he’d dragged from Recovery Girl’s waiting room, giving his friend the best unimpressed look he can manage. “A bona-fide, grade-A idiot.”

Toshinori at least has the consideration to look sheepish. “Good to see you too, old friend.” He wheezes, giving an apologetic smile. “If it makes it any better, I only did it because I had to.”

“It doesn’t.” Naomasa replies, “Toshi, I read the accounts the students gave, you were almost murdered. Nothing about that is okay.” There’s been times, in his years of work, where a coworker’s been taken down before his eyes. One moment they’re alive, by his side and ready, then they’re on the ground, loosing blood too fast for the paramedics to save them. He knows all too well what a thousand-yard-stare looks like.

In all honesty, seeing them die isn’t even the worst part, it’s telling the loved ones. Watching the denial spread across their face, listening to the whispered “oh God”s and having only an “I’m sorry for your loss” to offer. Toshinori doesn’t have any family left, not to Naomasa’s knowledge. There wouldn’t be any people to tell. That’s what scares him the most. “You don’t get to risk your life like this every time you fight a strong villain, Toshi.”

“The students could’ve been killed if I didn’t—!”

“—I am not disputing that.” Naomasa interrupts, “But if it wasn’t for your successor, you’d be dead right now, Toshi. I don’t want to have to bury you.” The “too” is left unsaid.

The fight fizzles out of Toshinori, leaving him laying in his bed with a tired look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, old friend.”

“Yeah,” Naomasa sighs, “I’m sorry, too.” They both look to the door when they hear a knock.

“All Might?” The voice is juvenile, a tad nervous. “Are you in here? I need to get my arm fixed.”

Naomasa looks at Toshi with a strange expression. His friend motions for him to open the door. He does, but makes sure that he blocks the sight of his friend with his body.

It’s a first year, one with green hair and a nervous set to his mouth. He’s in damp gym clothes and has a bag strewn over his shoulder. He stiffens when Naomasa opens the door, “Uh, hello. R-recovery Girl told me to come in before school so I could get this cast off—“ He interrupts himself, realizing something, “Uh, is there anyone else in here with you? Because I don’t know if you’re allowed—“

“It’s fine, my boy.” Toshinori says from behind Naomasa, “He’s an old friend. He knows.”

The way the kid’s shoulders droop is almost comical. “Oh. Er, may I come in?”

Naomasa steps to the side. He watches the kid walk in with interest, categorizing the little details out of habit. The kid’s small, but not the smallest high-schooler Naomasa’s seen. The shoulder-strap bag has a uniform peeking out, wrinkled, but clean. There’re bags under his eyes, dark, but not dark enough to indicate insomnia. All in all, he wouldn’t stand out much amongst other students, but something was eerily familiar.

Naomasa pulls a chair up to Toshinori’s bedside, letting the kid take a seat. If he’d had his hat on, he would have taken it off to introduce himself. “Hello, I’m Tsukauchi Naomasa, and you are...?”

“Midoriya Izuku.” Midoriya sits down and leans forward. “How do you know All Might?”

The kid sounds like he’s a father interrogating his child’s boyfriend, Naomasa wants to laugh but refrains. “I’ve known Toshinori here,” he nods in his friend’s direction, “for about ten years, over half your lifetime.”

“He’s a detective,” Toshinori adds, “You were unconscious, but he was there at the USJ.”

It clicks in Naomasa’s head. He’s seen Midoriya before — bloody, bruised, and three limbs looking like skin was the only thing keeping them from leaking goop. A day later and the boy sits in front of him, relatively intact and chatting with Toshinori.

Recovery girl comes back in, brightening when she sees Midoriya. “You’re right on time, dear. Come, come,” She motions for the boy to come over, “Let me heal your arm, then we’ll get that cast off.”

Naomasa couldn’t hope to hold a conversation over the the buzz of a saw cutting plaster. “I’ll tell you more when you get out of here.” He says to Toshi, grabbing his hat from the hat rack and giving a nod to the other occupants of the room. “It was nice seeing you again, Recovery Girl. And Midoriya—“ the kid looks up with wide eyes, “—try not to break any more bones this week.”

Midorya gives a weak smile in response. “No promises.”

Naomasa manages to exit right as Recovery Girl devolves into a rant about developing a sense of self-preservation. He and she both know it won’t work, people like Midoriya and Toshinori just can’t stand by when people are in trouble. In all honesty, Naomasa’s a tad relieved his friend has someone equally reckless invested in his wellbeing. Either they’ll help each other stay out of too much trouble, or they’ll end up enabling each other. For the sake of Japan, Naomasa hopes it’s the former.

——

Notice Me Not is a godsend sometimes. Right now, navigating through a crowd of students to reach his class on time is one such instance. He ducks and weaves and dodges until the classroom comes into sight. After that, it’s a clear shot to the door.

Izuku looks at the door like it has teeth. “Okay,” he whispers, “no Notice Me Not. No Notice Me Not. Gonna walk in and just...let myself be seen.” Easier said than done. He shuts his eyes tight and pushes the door open, holding his breath as he passes through the doorway.

He spends approximately point-five seconds in the classroom before Uraraka turns, sees him, then barrels into him. “Oh my God!” She cries, spinning Izuku around until he felt dizzy. “You’re okay!” She lets go to clasp him on the shoulder and announce, “Guys! He’s okay!” The resulting swarm makes Izuku wish he’d forsaken his resolution not to use Notice Me Not.

Kirishima is at the forefront of the crowd. He grins and gives Izuku a thumbs-up. “Hey, man! Good to see you, you know, conscious!”

“Yeah,” Izuku laughs nervously, his hands are shaking, he puts them behind his back. “I’m glad to be conscious, too.” The people around him laugh like he’s said something funny.

Kaminari slides up next. “Jeez, Izuku, you’ve been holding out on us. Tasing a villain?” He puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head, “I didn’t think you had it in you, but damn did you prove me wrong!”

Izuku swallows, “H-how do you know that?”

Uraraka, who hasn’t left his side, raises her hand with a sheepish expression. Izuku stares at her in disbelief. “Everyone was scared for you.” She explains, “I thought if i told them what you did they’d feel a bit better.”

Kamrinari nods vigorously, “Yeah. They had to take you in an ambulance, man. Your legs were...not good. But hearing what you did?” He holds a fist to his chest, “A badass like that can’t stay down for long.”

Badass. Of all the things for his classmates to call him. Still, Izuku needs to get to his seat. “I’m sorry guys, can we talk about this later? Class is about to start.” It gets him a few grumbles, but to his relief, everybody listens.

“I think you were really brave.” Uraraka tells him as she takes her seat next to him, “I was too scared to do anything, but you...you kept your cool.”

Izuku thinks back to every fight-or-flight instance in his childhood. Over time, he had learned to stop freezing entirely. It’s helpful, he won’t deny that, but he wishes the circumstances for the skill weren’t what they are. “I’ve had a lot of practice in tense situations.”

Uraraka sighs, leaning her head on her hand and looking forwards, “I wanna be like that, too.”

In a moment of pure daring, he reaches a hand forward to pat Uraraka’s shoulder, “You’ll get there. We’re all still learning.” The grateful smile he gets in return is more than worth the anxiety.

The class door opens, revealing a man covered in casts. Izuku wouldn’t be able to tell who it is if it wasn’t for the capture tools wrapped around the man’s neck and the still visible messy hair. His stomach twists at the reminder of yesterday, how his teacher’s head sounded being slammed into the concrete. He possibly wouldn’t have an arm right now if Eraserhead hadn’t stopped Shigaraki, and this is the result of his actions.

“Morning, class.” Aizawa says, he sounds like he’s speaking through a pillow. “I understand that many of you were concerned for me after the USJ, but I am perfectly capable of teaching you in my current state.”

Izuku doesn’t want to doubt the man who saved his arm, but he‘s skeptical that Aizawa can reach the top shelf right now, much less keep sixteen-plus teenagers in line. He’s proven wrong when the class falls silent at a single look. Good to know that even ninety-percent covered in bandages, Aizawa is still as nerve-wracking as usual. Izuku jerks in surprise when he feels a piece of paper bump into his back. He turns to see Todoroki, holding a piece of paper out with his usual blank face. The teen pokes him with the paper again, and Izuku takes it.

It’s a flashcard, pristine and white save for the blue pen writing “are you okay?” On the top right.

Izuku stares at the words and swallows. Nervous, he pens a reply. “I’m fine, how are you?” Jesus, he’s making small talk of a villain attack. Izuku holds the card behind his back before he can regret writing back. The weight vanishes from his hand for a moment, then is returned.

“I’m fine, too. Why do you keep breaking your limbs?”

It’s so blunt Izuku stares at it, trying to form a response. “I’m a late-bloomer,” he eventually writes, “I haven’t had a lot of time to practice with it, so there are a lot of accidents.”

The note’s passed, and then it comes back.

“If you define that as an ‘accident’, I’d hate to see what you describe as a disaster.”

Izuku snorts and is in the middle of his reply when Uraraka peeks over his shoulder. “Watcha writing?” She leans back when Izuku jumps in surprise.

“N-nothing!” He whispers, covering the flashcard with his forearm. “Just practicing...calligraphy.”

“But I saw two different handwritings.”

“I’m comparing it to my usual handwriting.” Izuku lies hastily, growing redder and redder the longer Uraraka stares at him. He feels dread form when she smiles, coy.

“Oh, I get it.” She winks and turns back to her notebook, “Good luck.”

Izuku turns scarlet and sighs, leaning on his hand and scratching his head. Well, at least she’s leaving him alone. He uncovers the flashcard and finishes what he’s writing.

“Total disaster would be me talking in front of a crowd. I’m nervous just writing it.” He hands the note to Todoroki then flinches when a paper ball collides with his head.

“Stop fucking passing notes.” Bakugou growls, “This isn’t elementary school.”

Yeah, because in elementary school Bakugou made a game of hunting Izuku down. Still, Izuku doesn’t take the flashcard again, not even when Todoroki presses it against his back like before. He shuts the sensation out and focuses on his notes, not the embarrassment of being called out by the blond.

First period shifts into second, then third, then fourth, until the lunch bell rings and everyone stands up to leave. Uraraka pokes Izuku’s shoulder as she throws her backpack over her own. “Man,” she says, walking down the hall with him, “You were in a note-taking zone.”

“Yeah,” He agrees without thought, “I guess I’ve had practice.”

Iida’s already at their usual spot when Izuku and Uraraka arrive. His lunchbox is placed politely in his lap as he waits for them to sit down. “I didn’t have the chance to ask,” he begins, “But are you okay, Midoriya?”

“Uh, yeah. Recovery Girl healed me fully before class started.” Izuku holds his now cast-free arm up for inspection.

Iida shakes his head, “That is not what I was asking about.” He adjusts his glasses and clears his throat, “You see, my brother is a pro hero himself, and in my time living with him, I have noticed that certain events leave...impressions on people. So I was not inquiring on your physical health, but rather your mental health.”

“Oh,” Izuku blinks, “well, I guess it hasn’t really hit me yet that I could have died.” It took a week the first time, after the slime villain. He’d been training with All Might, swimming laps in the local pool. Having his head submerged, unable to breathe? It brought up some bad memories. All Might had to spend thirty minutes calming him down on the bleachers. ”So much was happening at once, there wasn’t any time to worry about it.”

Iida nods, satisfied with the answer, “Well, when it does ‘hit you’, please let someone know. Becoming a hero doesn’t only mean you have to build up you physical state, but you mental fortitude as well.”

Izuku hesitates before nodding, “Yeah. I will.” He smiles, “Thanks, Iida.”

Uraraka interrupts them by elbowing him in the side. “Look! Todoroki’s coming over here!” She hisses, pointing a subtle finger at the incoming classmate. And indeed, Todoroki is heading their way.

Izuku gulps and focuses on his food. Maybe Todoroki isn’t heading their way at all, maybe he’ll change course. Maybe—

“May I sit with you?”

Welp, toss that assumption out the window. Izuku looks up and accidentally meets Todoroki’s eyes. The other boy is composed as always, lunchbox in hand and an indifferent expression on his face. Izuku thinks he can spot apprehension in Todoroki’s posture, but that has to be him projecting...right?

Uraraka answers for them all, giving Todoroki a winning smile. “Feel free!” She scoots to the left, leaving a space between her and Izuku. This freaking traitor, Izuku sends a quick look of betrayal her way, but she just gives him a thumbs up.

He shuffles his food to the side, letting Todoroki put his own lunchbox down. He takes a seat and suddenly Izuku’s entirely too self aware of where his limbs are, how close they are to Todoroki’s own. Come on, Izuku, pull it together. He swallows to wet his dry throat. “That looks good.” He comments, referring to the bento Todoroki pulls out of his lunchbox. It’s very neat, the rice modeled to look like a snowman and a piece of seaweed acting as a scarf. An egg is placed to the side, as is a note reminding Todoroki to have a good day. It’s signed by someone named Fuyumi.

Todoroki looks at the bento, considering what Izuku said, “My sister makes them for me.” He says, grabbing his chopsticks, “She’s a teacher, I guess the habit bleeds into her cooking.”

Izuku takes a bite of his sandwich and makes a weak sound of agreement. His entire body feels like nervous energy, buzzing and itching to do something. He gives in and takes out his sketchbook. A piece of his sandwich still in his mouth, he takes out a pencil and starts doodling. The feeling of graphite on paper soothes his nerves, and he doesnt realize what he’s drawing until Todoroki comments on it.

“That’s very realistic.” He says, looking at the cartoonish face of Bakugou with explosions for eyes, sharp teeth, and spitting fire.

Uraraka laughs, “You should see the drawings he actually spends time on.” She tells him, “He has this one of a bird, it’s one of my favorites.”

Iida, not one for talking with food in his mouth, finishes chewing before he adds his piece. “Personally, my favorite is the cat.”

Todoroki cocks his head, “Cat?”

“Oh yeah!” Uraraka lights up, “Midoriya likes to draw this cat with one ear like, all the time.”

“He’s my cat.” Izuku explains, cheeks burning, “Han, he likes to sit around my room for hours, it makes him a good muse.”

Uraraka claps her hand together, the sound makes Izuku start a little. “You use your cat as your muse,” she says, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve heard.”

Todoroki ignores her, “Is it the same cat from the hero fight?” He asks Izuku.

“Y-yeah. He follows me everywhere.” Han also has a habit of laying on his face when he’s sick, but Izuku isn’t telling anybody that. Holy crap, Izuku realizes he’s having a conversation with someone who isn’t Iida or Uraraka. He’s not stuttering too much, either. Today just might make the history books.

The four of them keep talking for the rest of lunch. Whenever there’s a lull, Uraraka is sure to fill it. Iida always has something to say, no matter the topic. Izuku and Todoroki seem to be the only ones content to observe, only sometimes adding their own thoughts.

The bell rings and they all start packing up. “This was fun.” Uraraka states, looking between all of them, “You should join us again, Todoroki!”

Todoroki’s face remains impassive as always. Izuku wonders if he ever smiles. “I’ll think about it.”

They’re all heading back inside when Izuku hears Todoroki say, “Midoriya.”

Izuku pauses, looking at Todoroki nervously. “Y-yes?”

He doesn’t respond at first, just looking forwards to the open sky. “It was nice, eating with you all.”

The fluttering in his chest has no business being there. Izuku smiles anyways, “Yeah. They’re loud, but it’s a good kind of loud.” He closes his eyes and bites his tongue. God, “a good kind of loud”? How did that make any sense?

But wonder of wonders, Todoroki nods along like he gets it. “I see what you mean.” He adjusts his bag and resumes walking. “Come on, we’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

Izuku stares at the back of Todoroki’s head. Had that really just happened? He doesn’t have time to think about it, Todoroki’s right, he’s going to be late. He hurries after his friends, the tiniest smile on his face.

——

The streets are just as shady as they were last time. The only difference is that Han isn’t on his shoulder. Izuku’s sneakers don’t make a sound as he walks down the tenth dark alley that day. He holds his breath, but once he sees that no one’s around, he exhales and continues.

“No signs of people being here recently.” He mutters, scribbling a tiny x over this alley on his handmade map. “No cigarette smell, no alcohol, no piss. If anything it smells too...” he goes quiet. This is one of the more back-alley places he’s been to so far, so why does it smell clean? Pocketing his notebook, Izuku creeps forward.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing obviously damming like a bloodstain or bullet marks on the alley walls, but if he looks at the ground he can see scuff marks from a broom. He follows the sweeping patterns, careful not to step on any of them. They lead him to a dumpster. “Ugh!” He pulls his shirt over his nose at the offensive stench. Even then, he gags at the smell of rotten food and sulfur. He takes a handful of steps back and stares at the source of the stench. “Oh, I’m going to hate this.” He mutters, rolling his pant legs up and walking back to the dumpster. Throwing the lip up, he peers inside.

As he’d expected, he sees rotten food, and, he’s disgusted to note, some mold. “Why hasn’t anybody thrown this out yet?” He wonders, leaning on the edge of the dumpster. That turns out to be a mistake, the wheels aren’t as rusted as he thought.

“Shit!” His chin almost becomes intimately familiar with the concrete, but he manages to catch his fall. His palms burn from being scuffed so hard, but Izuku’s too thankful for his reaction time to care. He groans, sits up rubbing his hands together, and stares. “Well,” He says, staring at a staircase going to some sort of hidden basement. “This is horribly video game-esque.” And what luck, he happens to be looking for a maniac with the tendency to use video game metaphors. Before he does anything else, he takes his notebook back out and changes the x mark to a circle, writing “secret base??” To the side.

“This is a horrible decision.” Izuku tells himself, staring down the door at the end of the staircase. “This is a horrible decision and I’m going to get killed by a villain or tetanus.” He still goes down the stairs. It’s a last minute idea to pull his hoodie up in an attempt to hide his defining features. He raises his hand, ready to twist the knob, but he hears muffled voices.

“Why should I listen to you?” A familiar. whining voice says, “Sensei said this is my operation.”

“Because, Shigaraki,” a hauntingly refined voice replies, “it’s too brash. Yuuei’s on high-alert after such a recent breach in security. You wouldn’t get within ten feet of him without getting swarmed by pros.”

Izuku can guess who they’re talking about. He takes a step back, letting his hand fall to his side as he stares at the door. “Holy shit.” He whispers, “I found their base.” Or at least one of them. Of all the things to find tonight, he stumbles across the League of Villains by almost falling off a dumpster. Because this is somehow his life now.

He takes a step back, then another. He whips around and bolts up the stairs the moment his heel bumps against the first step. “Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-“ he’s down and out of the alley before either Kurogiri or Shigaraki can see just who was at their doorstep moments ago. He doesn’t stop running until he’s four blocks away, and even that doesn’t feel far enough. It feels like he just lost five years of his life out of sheer fright.

He focuses on the sidewalk as he puts his hands on his knees and pants. The position doesn’t do anything for the nausea, but nothing comes up, so there’s that. “I’m never doing that again.” He tells himself, knowing full well that he’s going to break that promise within a week. “I am not voluntarily coming close to the guy who almost turned my arm to dust.” Lying’s always felt strange to him, lying to himself is even stranger.

His mom’s asleep on the couch when he gets back home. Han looks up from his position curled on her stomach when Izuku opens the door. Trashy TV plays at a low volume, casting the living room in a blue light. Izuku takes one look at his mom and sighs. She has a habit of kicking her blankets off, tonight isn’t any different. He pulls the blankets back over her, tucking them in at the shoulders to make sure they stay in place. He pauses, brushes a stray hair back into place, and heads to his room. His night is still far from over.

Han meows as Izuku enters his room and books it for his computer. “Sorry, buddy.” Izuku tells him, scratching the cat’s head without thought. “Something happened, tonight — something big. I don’t have time to give you ear rubs.” Han seems to take personal offense to that and meows louder than before. “You’ll live,” Izuku replies, rolling his eyes and muttering, “baby.”

The map he looks up is detailed, listing most of the major areas in the area Izuku had been investigating an hour ago. Now call him presumptuous, but Izuku has a feeling that a place hidden by a dumpster isn’t going to be on any tourist map. The internet isnt going to be of any help here, he needs firsthand accounts. Which means he’ll be talking to people who might just shank him first and take his wallet later. Joy.

Izuku doesn’t know how he keeps getting into these messes. He scrubs his face and makes a note on his computer before closing it and heading to bed. Han curls around his head, a soothing rumble coming from his throat. It relaxes Izuku enough to close his eyes and let sleep creep up on him.

——

“You look even worse than yesterday.” Uraraka tells him, “I didn’t know that was possible.”

Izuku yawns, “I know.” All Might had spent fifteen minutes of morning training to interrogate him about it. “It was a long night.” Understatements, apparently, were becoming his go-to reply.

“You should invest more in a proper sleep schedule,” Iida tells him, not looking up from his notes. “You won’t be doing your best in school if you’re this tired.”

“Oh, my bad, guys,” Izuku wants to say, “I stayed up until two in the morning so I could hunt down the villains who almost killed us before. My bad.” He yawns again and wishes Han were here, the cat would make today a lot more tolerable.

Iida looks up from his notes and offers Izuku an apologetic smile. “Well, Midoriya’s sleeping habits aside, my brother reminded me of something. The Sports Festival is coming up.”

Ah, yes, the Sports Festival. The modern-day equivalent of the olympics. Where literally thousands of people will be watching. The wave of dizziness at the thought disorients Izuku for a moment.

Uraraka gasps, “Oh my gosh, you’re right! They’re in, like, a month, right?”

Iida nods, “Aizawa will probably announce it to us today. My brother told me they always give the students a month to prepare. Usually, people do not pay much attention to the first years, but given recent events—“ He coughs at that, “— it’s reasonable to assume more than a few eyes will be on us.”

Great. Izuku closes his eyes and sets his mouth into a line. In the past few months, he’s grown more than he’d ever thought possible, but large crowds still have the same nauseating effect. Here’s hoping nobody really focuses on him. Then again, with the commentators and the crowd, the odds of him being able to activate Notice Me Not is slim to none. If getting into the Heroics division was stepping into the light, the sports festival is going to launch him into it at high velocity. No pressure.

School starts and right off the bat Aizawa proves Iida right. The Sports Festival is indeed in a month, and given the recent press coverage of the USJ debacle, everyone’s eyes are on them. Not only that, the festival doubles as a platform for hero internships. As far as Izuku can understand it, the event is a marketplace, and it’s up to each of them to sell themselves as much as possible. Performance, sportsmanship, finesse over your Quirk, all that and more is what a hero agency is looking for in an intern.

Looking at his track record with One for All, things aren’t looking too good in the finesse department. Performance? Probably better, but unless he gets a grip on whatever he did against Gran Torino yesterday, he can’t use One for All unless he’s fine with not using that limb the rest of the festival. Could he mitigate the damage by using his fingers? It’s worth considering.

“It’s concerning how casual you talk about breaking your bones.”

Izuku looks up to see Todoroki standing in front of his desk. Uraraka’s next to him, so is Iida, they’re all holding lunchboxes. Izuku blinks, “Oh. Is t lunch already?”

Uraraka reaches over and pulls him out of his desk. “Yep, you’ve been zoned out the whole day muttering stuff.”

“I made sure to take detailed notes for you.” Iida adds, “I will send pictures of them so you can copy them down. Though I hope this won’t become a trend.”

Izuku hurries to pack his things. Shoving everything into his bag with little fanfare, he stands up with his backpack strewn over a shoulder. “It won’t.” Izuku promises, “Let’s go eat lunch.”

Uraraka and Iida agree without question, it’s Todoroki who stays behind, looking at Izuku with an indescribable expression. “Midoriya.”

Izuku swallows, “Er, yes? Is something wrong?”

Todoroki shakes his head, “No.” He pauses, like he’s choosing his next words carefully, “You have a shadow to outgrow, too, don’t you.”

It’s the way he says it, posing it as a statement rather than a question, that makes Izuku stumble over his reply. “What do you mean? I don’t have any shadow, and if I did it wouldn’t be big enough to—“

“It’s in everything you do.” Shouto interrupts, “Every day, it’s like you have something to prove. You take more notes than anyone, and I know that you train in the morning. You chose to break your finger rather than risk expulsion, broke your arm in the practice fight, and put your life on the line for everyone else when they were too scared to act at the USJ. Why would you put in that much effort if you didn’t have an end goal in mind?”

Izuku stares at Todoroki in open shock. He’s never considered how his actions appear to someone else, he just does what he feels he needs to do. Which is kind of Todoroki’s point, now that he thinks about it. The laugh that comes out of him is too nervous to come off as casual. “I guess you’re right.” He admits, rubbing his arm, “No one really believed in me until a year ago. My mentor, he—“ How is he supposed to describe everything All Might’s done for him? “— he told me I had potential, even when everyone else said I couldn’t. So I can’t do anything but my best, I can’t waste his efforts. I won’t.”

Todoroki leans back, appearing satisfied by the answer. “A word of advice,” He makes it sound like he’s departing something that will save Izuku’s life, “don’t put too much stock in how your ‘mentor’ perceives your progress.” He leaves for the door, pauses, and turns back to add, “You should spend the next months learning control. Not many hero agencies are looking for someone who breaks themselves every time they use their Quirk.” Then he’s gone, leaving Izuku standing alone in the classroom like a goddamn fool.

Somewhere in him, Izuku knows Todoroki is right. He’s a glass cannon right now, and with Notice Me Not probably out of commission during the festival, he can’t rely on any sneak attacks. He resolves to work on it and follows after his friends.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, Izuku has to be patient. With the League planning who-knows-what, everything’s in the air. But he can’t do anything about that right now, what he can do is better himself, and consequently, make things a hell of a lot harder for them. Izuku’s a lot of things, anxious being the first on the list, but he has a track record of being a pain for people. Now he has a chance to be the biggest thorn in the side for these villains.

For all of his meekness, Izuku’s never shied away from standing up for what’s right. Shigaraki wants to play? Fine, Izuku’s playing. Game on.

Chapter Text

He needs to tell someone. He knows that like he does any other universal law. Light takes seven minutes to reach Earth, matter can’t be created or destroyed, and he needs to tell someone he found the base of the League of villains. Thing is, Izuku doesn’t have any complicated equation or list of instructions to tell him how to do it. What he does have is his notebook detailing exactly what he’s been getting up to, and oh boy is that going to be hard to explain. He can see it in his head: “Oh, I got all that information by walking around dark alleys and eavesdropping. By the way, I found the lair by almost falling into a dumpster.”

Yeah, he’d prefer not to explain. Not only would his mom ground him for life, he could get into real trouble with UA. The staff finding out he messes with villains in his spare time isn’t going to put him in their good books, that’s for sure.

He doesn’t have to tell someone right away, does he? He wasn’t seen...and he didn’t leave any indication he was there...he has time, right? It doesn’t matter, the thought of delaying this any more than he has sits wrong with him. Besides, he’ll only cause more questions withholding this any longer than he has. Knowing his luck, it would probably turn him into a suspect.

The entirety of this internal debate occurs as he’s eating imitation brand cereal with a pink plastic spoon. It’s been two days since he booked it the hell out of that alley, and while he’s resolved to tell someone, that creates a new question: who the hell would believe him? He’s a first year high school student with social anxiety and a growing tendency to break his bones like they’re kit-kats.

All Might? No, Izuku wouldn’t be able to withstand the disappointment that would follow the man’s surprise. Gran Torino? Double no, the retired hero would hit him over the head and then complain to All Might about “suicidal students that don’t know when they’re in over their heads”. He sighs and hangs his head, spoon drooping in hand. He stays like that until the electricity of an epiphany jolts through him.

The day after the USJ, there was a man in Recovery Girl’’s office, a man All Might knew for years. What was his name? Naomana? Maka? No, it was Naomasa, Tsukauchi Naomasa. He’s a policeman. It wouldn’t be hard for Izuku to drop in an anonymous tip, especially with Notice Me Not. His plan, having existed for only half a minute, is nearly foolproof — Nearly, the police department will have security cameras, there’s no doubting that. The robots in the entrance exam could see him, even with Notice Me Not up, it stands to reason that any recording of him would wipe away his Quirk and leave evidence that he was there.

The problem lasts for all of a minute before he gets another epiphany — only this one is because of Han. The cat’s playing with one of the potted plants mom leaves near the kitchen window. the edge of one of the leaves covers Han’s face from view. Izuku’s seen him do this a thousand times — and that’s a weak estimate — in the past few months. It’s only in this context that Izuku can see his cat’s genius.

“I’m starting to think you have human intelligence.” He tells his cat, putting his spoon down and placing his bowl in the dishwasher. Han meows when Izuku reaches over to pluck him up and away from the plant, but settles in his arms with nothing more than a brief growl.

Izuku opens his room and sets Han loose on his pillow covers. The cat takes a running start and leaps onto his bed, kneading the pillow with his claws out. Izuku shakes his head and throws open his closet. “I know I still have it.” He mutters, rifling through the clothes until he finds a box near the far end. On it, marked in large black sharpie, reads “halloween costumes”.

“Yes!” He drags it out and pops the lid off. He feels like doing a jig when he pulls out the cheap, mint green medical mask. Now all he needs is something to hide his hair...

He stares up at the three different All Might hoodies, each one mass produced and not at all distinct, hanging overhead. Izuku’s grin almost splits his face.

——

When Naomasa was little, his grandmother would sit him down in front of the tv and play old law-enforcement dramas. His father had hated it, kept saying “You’re gonna poison his head with crap like that!”, but it never stopped her. No, she smiled and nodded, let his father think that was the last of it. Then, when his father turned in early, like he always did, she would sneak Naomasa out of bed to turn on the tv. She died six months later, and while it hurt to remember, Naomasa holds those dear memories close to his heart. His life would have been wildly different had he never known his grandmother, he wouldn’t have watched those tv shows and learned his passion. He wanted to help people like the officers on screen did, he wanted to stop criminals, he wanted to make his home safer.

What the Tv shows conveniently didn’t tell him was how much paperwork was involved in being a detective. He’ll admit, it was a bit of a shock at the beginning, but Naomasa did what he did best and rolled with it. Now, he’s among the best in his department, and while it’s a far cry from those shows he used to watch in the pitch dark of his living room, the smell of his grandma’s perfume beside him, he’s happy.

That doesn’t mean the job doesn’t have it’s moments of mind-numbing boredom, though. Because it sure as hell does. If Naomasa were to draw any glaring differences between real policework and the stuff they showed on tv some one hundred years ago, it’s that heroes didn’t exist back then.

Nowadays, if they need to apprehend a serial killer or some other, just as dangerous criminal, they call in the heroes. Most of the public see the police as second-best, and most of his jobs are thankless ones, but none of it deters Naomasa. He joined the police force to help people, and that’s what he’s doing. There isn’t more to it.

He’s at his desk, staring at the screen of his computer with glazed eyes when Sansa walks up. Leaning against the cubicle, the Cat-headed Officer peeks over Naomasa’s shoulder. “Anything on the League yet?”

Naomasa grunts and takes a sip of his coffe — which has turned into cold sludge while he was distracted. He downs the rest of it anyways.

Sansa clicks his tongue, “I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“Nothing.” Naomasa pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing, “We’ve tried every contact we have in the underground, and not a single one of them has any kind of information on the League.”

“Maybe they’ve been scared into silence?” Sansa suggests. Naomasa isn’t facing the direction of his coworker, but he can still tell that he’s shrugging.

It’s an entirely plausible idea, the most likely by a large margin, but Naomasa’s been a detective long enough to know that the most likely explanation isn’t always what’s true. He has faith in his instincts, and they’re telling him he doesn’t have the whole picture.

Were it any normal case, he would approach the situation with a calm detachment. Getting emotionally involved puts the entire investigation at risk, but these villains attacked and nearly killed his friend — who happens to be the “symbol of peace”. Naomasa always knew that title would get Toshinori into more trouble than it was worth.

“Hey, Naomasa!”

He shoots his head up at the mention of his name, looking at the desk attendant peeking over the wall of his cubicle. “Hm?”

The attendant holds something up, a small manilla file with papers sticking out of it. “Someone left this on the desk for you.” They tell him as they hand the file over. Indeed, it did have a sticky note on it reading “for detective Tsukauchi Naomasa”.

The file feels new in his hands, crisp. The thickness of it is almost insubstantial, just a few 11-by-8 printed papers packed inside. Naomasa doesn’t know to expect when he opens it, but what he sees has him slapping the folder shut again. “Did you see the person who dropped this off?” He demands, standing up. The file bends under the force of his grip.

The desk attendant takes a step back, raising their arms, “N-no, I just looked up and it was just...there— wait!”

Naomasa‘s stepped out of his cuticle and hurried past the attendant. He only has eyes for the lobby, but he’s aware enough to know the attendant is following him. No one looks up when he arrives and scans the room.

Everyone’s at their respective seats, typing away at the computer, talking on the phone, filling out paperwork. Not a thing is out of the ordinary. No indication of tampering anywhere he can see.

Sansa pauses beside him, “Oí, oi, Tsukauchi, what’s the rush?”

“Sir!” The attendant catches up, frazzled by Naomasa’s reaction. “Is there something wrong?” A few heads look up at that.

Naomasa shakes his head, “No, nothing is wrong.” His coworker’s heads go back to what they were doing at the reassurance. He turns to the attendant and smiles, he hopes it’s enough to calm the man down. “If it’s alright, could you pull up the security footage of the last ten minutes and send it to me?”

The attendant hurries to reclaim his seat, “O-of course, detective.”

Naomasa bows, “Thank you very much.” He rights himself and walks back to his office space. Sansa fallows him.

“What was that about, Tsukauchi?” The policeman asks, leaning against the cubicle again, watching Naomasa take his seat and log back onto his computer. “You were acting like you expected to see a villain back in the lobby.”

Naomasa doesn’t reply verbally, instead, he pushes the folder in Sansa’s direction. When he hears the sound of it being opened, it’s only a few seconds before Sancha whistles. “Damn.”

Naomasa opens his mail and waits for the video feed to come in. “Yeah. I don’t know who could get that much information on the League while we were pulling blanks, but right now, they’re our only tangible lead to anything about them.” The file finally loads, he clicks on it and scrutinizes the image that comes up. It’s a bird’s-eye-view of the lobby, no one has come in through the door yet. Naomasa adjusts the speed to go three times as fast and waits.

“There!” Sansa leans into his personal space to pause the video and point. Indeed, there’s the shadow of a figure near the entrance. Naomasa slows the video down and watches with a keen eye.

“Well, someone’s a fan.” Sansa jokes when the figure enters. They’re wearing an all might hoodie, hood drawn up to hide their hair. In hand, they’re holding the manilla file. The angle makes it hard to see their eyes, and a cheap medical mask covers their face. They took pains to hide any defining features, Naomasa can’t spot a single thing that could be used as a descriptor in a warrant.

The suspect walk in, no one looks up. Not even when he comes to the desk and puts the file down. But something strange happens after that. The figure reaches out to knock over the attendant’s pen container. The man looks up in surprise, but his eyes don’t focus on the suspect, who’s standing in front of him not five feet away. No, instead the attendant rights the pen container, and notices the file. Naomasa can piece together the rest of what happens and pauses the video.

“He came and left without anyone seeing him...” He says in wonder, “That has to be a Quirk of some kind, being able to go unseen.” A terrifying ability, if in the wrong hands.

Naomasa looks at the file, flipping through it with a careful eye. Everything in here, from the main notes to even the smallest margin, are vital clues. The papers aren’t the original notes, just photocopies, taken with a phone-quality camera and printed out. The picture’s expose nothin of note, either, they show what they need to, no more, no less. He notices something on the last page, a small arrow on the bottom right corner. He flips the page around and huffs.

“Your friend, Wallflower.” He reads, leaning back in his chair. He looks at Sansa, “Get a squad over to where this map depicts, let’s see if ‘Wallflower’ and his information are legitimate.” He says, handing the file over.

“Yes, sir.” Sansa snaps a quick salute and hurries off. Naomasa watches him leave, waiting for the man to round the corner before slumping in his seat and sighing. Word does have it’s boring moments, but they’re almost preferable to when the office gets cases like this.

Oh, who is he kidding, this is exactly what he signed up for. Naomasa stares at the paused video of the self-proclaimed “Wallflower”. This person had no reason to drop their information off, yet they walked right into the lion’s den. That speaks of confidence they wouldn’t be seen, and going by their garb, they know and compensate for the weaknesses of their Quirk. “I hope you’re on our side, Wallflower.” He says, “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

——

“Holy shit.” Izuku whispers, changing out of his All Might hoodie and sweatpants to don his regular training clothes. “I just became an anonymous informant.”

Choosing the name Wallflower had been a last minute touch. He had to give them something to adress him by, or they’d make up some ridiculous name for him, and considering Notice Me Not, the name fit too well for him to discard it. So, he turned in what he knows and no one knows it’s him — mission accomplished.

Han is getting so many head rubs for this.

He arrives at the gymnasium before either All Might or Gran Torino. The sound of his backpack dropping to the floor echoes through the empty space. Beams of sunshine filter in through the windows near the ceiling, Izuku’s standing in one of the splotches of sun as he stretches. The adrenaline still in his system makes him looser than he would be normally at the beginning of a stretch. He’s sitting on the floor, in the middle of putting his forehead against his knees when the gym door opens again.

All Might perks up at the sight of him, “Ah, young Midoriya!” He lifts a bag up with an arm, “I didn’t know if you had breakfast yet. Go on,” he prompts, handing it over to Izuku.

Izuku peeks into the bag, “All Might, what—“

The hero looks away, scratching his cheek. “You always get here so early,” he says, “I was, ah, beginning to worry you weren’t eating breakfast.”

Izuku takes out the to-go container of cereal, along with the milk carton. He stares at the two items like they were given to him by a god, “Th-thank you for your consideration, All Might.” Izuku says, still looking at the milk and cereal. He’d eaten this morning, but the stress of the whole police station debacle burned up more energy than he thought. His stomach rumbles at the sight of food, loud enough to be heard.

All Might coughs in the silence, “Well, I’m glad I brought it in today.”

Izuku’s cheeks are burning. He puts the milk and the cereal to the side, “I’m just gonna...save this for after training.”

“Probably for the best.” All Might acknowledges with a nod. “What are you planning to do for a warmup?”

Izuku gets to his feet and starts to swing his arms back and forth. “I’m planning on pushing myself a bit harder now.” He says, starting to jog in place. “I’m able to channel maybe one or two percent of One for All as it is. If I build my strength and endurance up, then maybe I can up that to five before the sports festival.”

“Pushing yourself as always.” All Might mutters, shaking his head, “Your class won’t know what hit them.”

Izuku smiles weakly, “Thanks, All Might.” He hops from one foot to the other, shaking his hands loose. “Okay,” he tells himself in a breathy voice, “focus. Focus.” He can’t remember what image he thought of last time, it worries him for a split of a second, but then the energy of One for All is buzzing through him and he can’t afford to overthink it. He stays in place, checking to see is anything broke without him knowing. When he comes back with a clean bill, he exhales. “Okay, five laps around the gym at two percent.”

All Might’s procured a stopwatch from somewhere in his baggy clothes. “On your mark.”

Izuku nods to himself and behind to count. “Three...” The energy is coursing through him like electricity, maybe that’s the way he could think about it? A current he turns on and off? “Two...” Or maybe he could think of water? They both flow. “One...” Or something he already does without thinking... his eyes widen, and before he can try to talk himself out of it, he takes off. “Go!”

The gym’s polished wood floor blurs under him. His feet eat up the length of the gym — as long as a professional soccer field, easily — like he’s taking a stroll across his room. The air rushes past his ears, tousling his hair and enticing a laugh out of him.

“Go, young Midoriya!” All Might cheers from the side. Izuku can’t turn his head to face him, but he knows the hero is grinning like nothing else. Izuku makes a sharp turn and keeps going.

Five laps feels like nothing, and soon enough he’s skidding to a stop in front of his mentor. “How...was that?” He pants, placing his hands behind his head and breathing deeply.

All Might pushes the stopwatch towards his face, “One minute and twenty-five seconds.” The hero laughs and ruffles Izuku’s hair, pride shining through in every action. “Well done, my boy!”

Izuku ducks his head at the praise, “Thank you.” He looks up and starts to rattle off his analysis. “I managed to run a little more than one mile in that time, meaning that I’m at a speed higher than trained track runners that don’t have speed enhancement Quirks. Most fo them are able to run a mile within five minutes, the fact that I managed it in one minute and twenty-five seconds means I’m faster than them by seventy-five percent. And there’s no telling how this plays in with the strength enhancement aspect—“

“Careful,” All Might warns, “You’re going to fry your brain, thinking so fast.”

Izuku shuts his mouth, “It’s a habit. Sorry.”

All Might waves the apology away, “No, no, it’s for the best that you’re like that.” The hero takes a seat on the nearby bench, leaning back with a sigh. “I relied on too much brute strength,” he gestures to his side, “It’s the main reason I got this. I...wasn’t thinking clearly when I was fighting, and it almost got me killed.”

Izuku’s mouth goes dry, “Was the villain you were fighting really that dangerous?”

“Midoriya,” The man’s blue eyes bore into his, “the villain I fought would have destroyed Japan if given half the chance.” He sighs, “But I’m not going to scare you by talking about him. Come on, you haven’t eaten yet.” He smiles teasingly, “Aizawa would have my head if he found out I got in the way of his student’s development.”

“But, I haven’t finished—“

“You can train after you’ve eaten.” All Might tells him, brokering no room for argument. “Going to school on an empty stomach will do you no favors.”

Izuku doesn’t have much of a choice but to take the offer and sits down. The milk is still cold, and the cereal is one of the healthier brands. He opens the package, pours the milk in, and takes a spoonful. Izuku’s never had a teacher that gives a damn before, it leaves him at a loss for what to do, but it’s also nice.

“You have a shadow to outgrow, too, don’t you.”

He frowns at the memory. “Hey, All Might?”

“Yes, my boy?”

“What do you expect from me?”

All Might stares at Izuku, he can see the hero’s mouth moving over words, testing them. “Where’s this coming from?”

Izuku shrugs, “Dunno, I was just wondering.”

All Might raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t push, “Well,” he punches his chin, “it’s not really an expectation, but I would like it if you got a grasp of One for All before your second year.”

Izuku looks down at his lap, “Oh.”

“Though, that’s just because I don’t want Recovery Girl on my case.” The hero laughs at Izuku’s surprise, “Is that really so shocking? My boy, I may not be a good teacher, but I’ve been around other people long enough to know everyone grows at a different pace.”

“But you said I was your successor, doesn’t that mean I’ll have to... well... pick up where you left off?”

All Might sighs deeply. “Midoriya... You of all people know I’m not perfect. I mean, my teaching skills are goddamn horrible. But we’re different people.” All Might pokes Izuku’s chest in the center, “What’s in here is different from what’s in here.” He points to his own chest for emphasis, “You’re your own person, young Midoriya. I’m not too good at mentoring yet, but I’m going to do nothing but my best to help you, not mold you into another me.” The hero smiles again, “Frankly, Japan doesn’t need a second All Might. A young Midoriya, however...” he bumps Izuku’s shoulder with a fist, “I’m sure there are crowds waiting for him.”

Izuku feels relieved at his mentor’s reply. All Might isn’t aiming to keep Izuku in his shadow. He isn’t even sure why he was worried, but the look in Todoroki’s eye...that spoke of some really big shoes to fill. “Thanks, All Might.”

“Anytime, young Midoriya. Now get up!” The hero stands, motioning for Izuku to do so as well, “You’ve still got some more training to do before first period!”

Izuku hops off the bench with a grin, “Yes, sir!”

——

It’s been a bad couple of days, Kurogiri is willing to admit. It started at the USJ, and that was a disaster in it’s own right. They were underprepared, laughably so, with a basic plan and unreliable lackeys. The only things in their favor had been Kurogiri, Shigaraki, the Noumu, and the element of surprise. Yet even that failed in the face a teenager with a police-grade taser and the propensity to break limbs like he was cracking a knuckle.

So yes, Kurogiri knew the next few days were going to be annoying. Because he’s been tasked with watching over the growth of Sensei’s successor, a literal man-child with no ability to separate video came concepts from real life. Were it not for the respect he had for his boss, Kurogiri would have asked the man to reassign him long ago.

Then he sensed a presence near the entrance of their base not three nights ago. He could have imagine it, but imaginations don’t move the dumpster concealing their hideaway. The only reason Kurogiri is still alive is because he trusts his instincts, so he doesn’t think twice about contacting All for One and getting the green light to move everything. But of course Shigaraki has to be a brat about it.

This is the third time he’s had to sweep dust off the floor in the last two days. Kurogiri takes pride in running a clean establishment, and every new pile of dust whittles away at his considerable patience.

“It’s not fair.” Shigaraki bemoans, leaning back on the stool and staring at the ceiling. “Sensei said I’m the one that’s supposed to call the shots.”

“You won’t be able to call the shots in prison, Shigaraki.” Kurogiri reminds him, being sure to not take his charge’s complaining to heart.

“Sensei wouldn’t let that happen.” Shigaraki mutters, still staring at the ceiling.

“He would if he thought you’d learn something from it.” Kurogiri sighs and shakes his head, “It’s no matter, we still have the security cameras up in the old base. We’ll see soon enough if we were right to move.”

Shigaraki leans forwards, lacing his fingers together on the table. “Everything’s wrong.” He snarls, “Ever since the USJ, everything’s been messed up. That fucking Rogue’s been a wrench in the game.”

At least on that, he and Kurogiri are in agreement. “You’re going to have to make new plans, anticipate his interference.”

Shigaraki ignores him, but Kurogiri’s used to that. “I hate him. He’s ruined everything. With his stupid strength. He’s just like All Might.” The man straightens up, his hands separating to curl into fists. “It’s always All Might that gets in my way. Even his stupid students are messing things up. Yes...the Rogue will die, he has to. He’s too much like All Might to live.”

It’s in these moments that Kurogiri’s reminded that Shigaraki is All for One’s heir for a reason. He’s petulant, and often a brat, but there’s the occasional flash of calculating coldness that is entirely learned from All for One. Given enough time and motivation, it’s possible that the man in front of him could be worse than any villain he’s seen - outside of All for One. “So what do you plan to do?” He prompts, ignoring the unease settling in the small of his back.

“This society is a piece of bad programming,” Shigaraki mumbles, “the only way to fix it is tear it down and start again.” Skin flakes onto the bar when the man scratches at his neck, “Killing All Might would be the first ‘virus’, it’d make the programming unstable.” He cocks his head, “What do you think would be the breaking point?”

——

No matter how many times Izuku does it, walking into the police department is a harrowing experience. Sure, logically he knows that he wont be seen by anyone, and his disguise keeps him from being identified on security feed, but the little voice in his head always whispers for him to be careful.

The automated doors open with a swoosh, Izuku follows the officer walking in and is quick to sidestep him. As usual, no one looks up at him. That’s fine, though, Izuku’s not here for pleasantries anyways. His feet move on memory towards Tsukauchi’s cubicle, peeking in to see if the detective is there.

Indeed, the man’s sitting at his desk, clicking away at the computer with his eyebrows drawn tight. There’s an officer five feet away from Izuku, leaning over Tsukauchi’s shoulder. In spite of his nerves, he smiles at the sight of the cat headed officer. Sansa may not know about Izuku, but Izuku’s seen him enough to know the officer is a good one.

“The base Wallflower gave us was empty, but there were clear signs of use.” Tsukauchi says to himself, tapping his finger against the folder marked with Izuku’s pseudonym.

Ah, Izuku had worried about how that worked out. Maybe he should have expected it, but the disappointment still stings. If he had gotten the information in sooner, maybe the League would have been caught.

“Everything else checked out under cross-referencing.” Tsukauchi spins in his chair to look at his coworker. “What do you think?”

Sansa hums, “They seem to be on our side,” he admits, pursing his lips in thought, “and the information they give is legit. I don’t see any reason to not trust their info.”

How convenient that Izuku’s listening in, then. The new file is clutched in his hands, noticeably thicker than his first one. Carefully, he squats down to leave the file on the floor. On the cover, he’s drawn a blue Hyacinth — meaning sincerity. If he can’t gather the courage to talk to Tsukauchi verbally, maybe he can convey his intentions another way.

He stands up and readjusts his hoodie, making sure it’s still covering his hair. Looking to the right corner of the room, he sees a security camera. It’s a split moment of playfulness, but Izuku raises his hand and gives the camera a peace sign. By the time he hears Sansa ask “What’s this?”, he’s already past the door.

“Good luck, detective.” Izuku whispers, “I hope I helped.”

“Wait!”

Izuku freezes, craning his neck to look behind him. Tsukauchi’s ran out of the department, Izuku’s latest file clutched in his hands. Izuku checks on Notice Me Not and sinks in relief when he can still feel it buzzing through him. No matter how hard Tsukauchi looks, his eyes pass right over Izuku, never seeing, never aware. Izuku vanishes down the street before risking letting his Quirk fizzle away.

“Sorry, Tsukauchi.” He says to himself, taking the lid off one of the trash cans. Sure enough, his backpack is still there, same with his exercise bag. Taking both out, he changes into his workout clothes, muttering, “Maybe next time.” Though not if Izuku can help it. Shouldering his workout bag alongside his backpack, Izuku sets off for school. It’s six thirty, the sun is beginning to detach from the horizon, he has ten minutes before All Might gets to the gym.

The hero ends up getting there the same time as him. “Ah, good morning, Midoriya.”

Izuku stifles a yawn, “Good morning, All Might.”

“Are you ready for training?” The hero asks, holding the door open for Izuku and stepping in once he passes.

“I kinda forgot what sore muscles felt like.” Izuku admits, rolling his shoulder after putting his bags down. “Ever since your ‘American Dream’ plan, nothing seemed to make me sore.”

“Well, that just means you’re pushing yourself.”

Izuku nods, “Yeah.” He goes straight into his stretches, groaning at the way his muscles protest. “I’ve still got three days, though. Still time to improve.”

He hears All Might clear his throat, “I actually forgot to tell you something.”

Izuku touches his toes, wincing at the sudden rush of blood to his head. “Hm? What is it?”

“Well...” The hero’s voice stalls, “You are aware that you scored the highest out of everyone in the entrance exam, yes?”

It’s been almost two months since that, Izuku’s kind of surprised All Might brings it up. He finishes stretching and rights himself, taking in his teacher’s pensive expression. “Yeah?”

All Might clears his throat, “Well, it appears that it’s in Yuuei’s tradition to have the highest scoring student speak before the beginning of the sport’s festival. I know you prefer to avoid crowds, but they were rather insistent about— Midoriya?”

Izuku’s covered his mouth with a hand, closing his eyes against the wave of cold panic washing over him. “Is there... any way I could get out of it?” He asks weakly.

To his dismay, All Might shakes his head. “I’m afraid not, my boy. I tried to convince them otherwise, but Nedzu decided that it would be a,” the hero raises his hands to make bunny ears around the quote, “good chance to ‘get out of your comfort zone’.”

Of course. Yuuei’s always been about ‘plus ultra’. Izuku would have appreciated it if they’d worked him up to it, but apparently the school’s modus operandi is throwing students into the deep end and watch them sink or swim. Great. Just...great. “Are they expecting me to say anything specific?” He manages to ask.

All Might puts a comforting hand on Izuku’s shoulder, “Just say something along the lines of ‘good luck to everyone’. That’d be good enough.”

Four words. Izuku can handle four words. Four words in front of thousands of people, and that’s not even counting the people watching from home—

Izuku feroces himself to stop thinking about it. He’s going to puke if he does a second longer. Even then, something wiggles in the back of his mind, trying to get his attention. He ignores that, too. “Well, at least I know now.“ He tries to sound chipper about it, he’s not sure if it works. “It would’ve been a lot worse if I was put on the spot.” Puking on live television wouldn’t be very good.

All Might pats his shoulder encouragingly, “That’s the spirit!” He removes his hand to jerk a thumb over his shoulder, “Do you wan’t to train anymore? There’s no shame in taking a break.”

Izuku chews the inside of his lip, “Ah, I think I’ll try using One for All at 5% to run my laps.”

All Might nods and take a seat on the bench, rustling through his pocket to pull out the stopwatch. “On your mark.”

Rushing through his laps, electricity sparking off of him, Izuku wonders how Iida and Uraraka have been holding up in their training. Uraraka’s been looking more tired lately, she’s been pushing the weight limit of her Quirk. Iida’s a tad harder to get a read on, but Izuku knows he’s trying to get faster, maybe increase the time between required engine cooldowns.

As for Todoroki... Izuku isn’t sure if they’re even friends, but something’s been souring the teen’s mood since the festival announcement. He hasn’t sat with them since everyone began to train in earnest, and Izuku swears he’s seen the teen wince once or twice when he bumped into something, but Todoroki never speaks to him, or passes notes, or even looks at him anymore. The bags under his eyes have gotten darker, shade by shade with each passing day. He’ll look like a raccoon at this rate. Izuku doesn’t have all the details, and he’s too scared of crossing boundaries to ask, but he hopes the other teen feels better soon.

Finishing his final lap, Izuku dials One for All down to 2% and does two cool down laps before slowing to a stop. He wipes his hair away from his eyes and looks at All Might. “Time?”

“One minute for the mile, twenty seconds for the cool down.” All Might tells him, squinting at the stopwatch. “You’ve definitely improved.”

Izuku smiles without thinking about it. “I guess I need to get ready for class.” He says, looking down at himself and his sweaty clothes. “The locker room is open, right?”

“Third door to the left, I think.” All Might confirms, standing up and stretching. “I’ll see you in class, young Midoriya.” The waits for Izuku to grab his bag and head to the exit before doing so himself. They split at the hallway, Izuku heading west, All Might heading east.

The locker room is indeed the third door on the left. White porcelain tiles shine under fluorescent lighting, giving off a hospital kind of look. Izuku can hear a shower running. He sets his uniform on the bench, grabs a towel and heads towards the noise. He’s not sure who he’s expecting, but Todoroki isn’t it.

His back is facing Izuku, head ducked to let the stream of water get it thoroughly wet. That’s not what Izuku’s focusing on.

A collage of reds, blues, purples and yellows, bruises in all states of healing adorn Todoroki’s back. They look like they hurt. Izuku’s gotten enough bruises from Bakugou to know that with enough of them, bruises could hurt more than any sore muscles. They ache and sting at the slightest touch. The few winces Izuku’s seen suddenly make a sick amount of sense.

Izuku’s trained with All Might and Gran Torino long enough to know bruises like that don’t come from just training. His mouth works open and closed like a fish, eventually, he manages to make a sound. “Um...”

Todoroki whips around, if Izuku thought his back was bad, Todoroki’s front is infinitely worse. His abdomen is spattered with red bruises — new ones. His chest looks like it took a volley of baseballs, covered in swollen and fading bruises.

There’s surprise in Todoroki’s eyes when he locks onto Izuku, surprise, and a hint of fear. “What are you doing here?” He demands, grabbing a towel and hurrying to wrap it around his waist. “No one is supposed to be in here this early.” It sounds more directed to himself than Izuku.

Izuku’s words decide to work again, “I— I was training. I thought I would take a shower before school—“

Todoroki marches forward, fire sparking in his eyes. “Never,” he hisses, “tell anyone about this.” The flush of his skin makes the faded red of his scar look like blood.

Dumb with shock, Izuku nods. He doesn’t dare to move until he hears Todoroki leave the locker room, the door slamming behind him. Izuku stares at the drain of the shower, tinged pink with blood. Izuku remembers seeing Todoroki with a split lip, like he’d taken a hard fall. He didn’t notice it at first because it’d been cleaned.

There’s nothing else for Izuku to do but do what he came here for in the first place. But even with the water as hot as it can be, the guilt of making Todoroki afraid of him — him! Of all people! — makes him feel cold.

Chapter Text

Todoroki avoids him the rest of the day. He’s not obvious about it, it’s just a matter of Izuku recognizing what he himself does when avoiding someone. The moment they release for lunch, Todoroki vanishes without a word. He never gives Izuku a nasty look, he doesn’t give Izuku a look at all, he’s just... gone. But unlike Izuku, he doesn’t have Notice Me Not to assist, Todoroki is just that good. Which leads into another problem. 

It’s been gnawing at the back of his mind since the beginning of the year. The hesitance to talk to people, the comfort in being alone, the fear when someone sees his injuries, Todoroki’s actions mimic Izuku’s when he was in elementary and middle school. Thing is, Izuku’s mistreatment stems from his perceived Quirklessness. He doesn’t want to think about what could be Todoroki’s reason, but the other teen is hurting, he’s hurting every moment he sits in that chair and pretends bruised ribs don’t make it hard to breathe. But Izuku doesn’t know what to do, it seems to be the one constant thing about him. 

Before this morning, Izuku would’ve dared to call him and Todoroki friends, but where they stand now is anyone’s guess. What he knows for sure is that if he brings this up, alludes to it in any way, Todoroki will tear apart any connection between them, if there still are any. Izuku’s really messed this up, didn’t he? The guilt’s stuck with him since the shower, clinging to him like soot. Which is why when Todoroki vanishes, he doesn’t try to follow.

Even with the sun shining on the lunch table, he doesn’t feel warm. Uraraka’s talking to Iida, but their words are muffled compared to how loud his thoughts are. His sandwich tastes bland even though his mom loves to season their food. Nothing’s as it should be. 

He jerks away when someone pokes him. 

Uraraka retracts her hand, “Are you okay, Midoriya? You’ve been acting kinda weird all day.”

“Your behavior has indeed been abnormal.” Iida agrees, his lips pulling into a frown. “Did something happen?” 

“N-nothing’s wrong!” Izuku squeaks, “I’m just... er...” the answer comes in a flash of brilliance, “nervous about what I should say for the Sports Festival.”

Uraraka blinks, “Oh, is that it?”

“Uraraka, public speaking is one of the most common fears.” Iida sighs, putting his food down, “Do you have any ideas, Midoriya? If not, I would be glad to assist you. It’s my job as class president to assure that all classmates are properly prepared and—“

Izuku interrupts before Iida can get into the swing of a full on lecture. “T-thank you, Iida, but I have to do this myself. I’ll never learn if I rely on people to do it for me.” The words are truer than Uraraka and Iida can ever know. No one ever tried to help him with his problems or stop Bakugou. The responsibility always fell on him.

“Well,” Uraraka tries, reaching out to punch him playfully on the arm, “If you ever need it, we’re here to help!” Iida nods in agreement behind her. 

Izuku has to swallow the sudden tightness in his throat. “Thanks guys.” 

——

Moonlight filters in through Shouto’s window, landing in a neat little square by his head. He‘s on his futon, staring up at the ceiling and wondering why he cant sleep. His back throbs under his own body weight, he ignores it. His father has never been kind during training, it doesn’t  make sense for him to start now. Still, Shouto can only think one thing: he should’ve never started showering in the Yuuei locker room.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Endeavor springs morning training sessions on Shouto without warning, leaving him bruised and sweating. It’s a chance of washing off the smell of smoke and leaving the house early, Shouto takes it and runs. Yuuei’s one of the top schools in Japan, it stands to reason that their bathrooms are up to standard, too. The water pressure is perfect, spraying him with lukewarm water hard enough he can feel the dirt washing off on it’s own. Half of the time he takes showering is bathing and the other is just standing under the torrent with his eyes closed. 

Today should’ve been no different, but then Midoriya comes in. 

Shouto doesn’t know how to feel about the other teen. Scruffy hair, slightly baggy clothes and with the habit of taking his cat to hero fights, Midoriya Izuku, at first glance, is someone people can walk right by without noticing. Imagine Shouto’s surprise when he spots the same boy sitting at one of the desks on the first day of school. Take that surprise and times it by twenty when the Quirk apprehension tests comes and Midoriya breaks his finger to keep from being expelled.

The next day, they had the Hero vs Villain fights. Shouto didn’t pay much attention to who he’d been assigned, but Midoriya acted like having to fight Bakugou was a death sentence. Shouto doesn’t like how he recognizes Midoriya’s dread — the dread of fighting someone who’s hurt him before. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but he wished the teen good luck before he and his teammate headed out. After that, all he could do was watch. 

“He has good reflexes.” Yaoyorazu commented, watching Midoriya shove Uraraka away from Bakugou’s surprise attack. 

“I hope he knows what he’s doing.” Kirishima said, frowning, “Bakugou — that guy’s scary on a good day.” The statement was met with mumbled approval.

They all watch Midoriya feed the fire by taunting Bakugou. Kaminari laughed in discomfort, “This guy’s got a death wish.” He said, shaking his head. 

Mina slapped Kaminari’s shoulder, “Shh!” The class watched Midoriya round the corner, “What’s he doing? He has to keep running!”

“What the hell? Is Bakugou blind or something? Midoriya’s right in front of him!”

“Wait! Midoriya’s doing something!”

“The costume department gave him tripwire?”

“Oh, please tell me that he’s going to trip Bakugou.”

Midoriya did, and the way he did it had most of the class in stitches. Shouto didn’t know what an “asshat” was, but apparently it was funny enough for everyone to lose their composure.”

“Oh— oh my God.”

“Who knew Midoriya had a potty mouth!”

“Well, if the shoe fits...” The laughter cropped up again at that. 

Shouto may not have understood why it was funny, but he could see the tactics behind it. From what he’d seen, Bakugou used his explosions to propel himself towards an opponent. By getting him mad enough, Midoriya ensured that the blond would forgo that and charge on foot.

There was a chorus of cheers when Midoriya managed to tie off the capture tape, then an outcry when Bakugou continued the fight. A good few of Shouto’s classmates were pleading with All Might to call it off, but Shouto’s eyes remained glued to the screen. Midoriya, he wasn’t putting any thought into dodging, every move was pure reflex. It could have been from formal training, but the mediocre punch he threw at Bakugou crossed that off the list of possibilities. 

The realization had stuck Shouto with the weight of one of his father’s punches. Midoriya’s ability to dodge was the fruit of necessity.

All Might left to break up the fight after Uraraka captured the bomb. He couldn’t know that she and Iida were heading down to defuse the situation between their respective teammates. He arrived just in time to see Midoriya unleash his devastating Quirk. The cameras recording the scene shook with the force of the shockwave. Shouto saw the class wince collectively when they watch Bakugou get thrown into the wall hard enough to crack the concrete. 

“I mean,” Kirishima said in the silence, “I’m not saying he didn’t have it coming, but...”

“That’s gotta hurt.” Jirou finished for him, crossing her arms. 

They waited in tense silence for the group to return, and when the door opened, Midoriya was swamped. Shouto didn’t get much of a chance to see him, but the glimpse he did see made his stomach turn. Midoriya’s arm hung limp at his side, thoroughly broken.

That day, Shouto learned that Midoriya might be more like him than originally thought. 

Then the USJ happened. Shouto’d been warped by Kurogiri, landing in the wasteland setup on his lonesome. And while the villains stationed there were hardly any threat, Shouto did manage to gather some information on who was attacking them and why. This “League of Villains” had a plan to kill All Might. He’d doubted the claim until he found his way out of the wasteland just in time to witness the hero almost get bisected.  He wasn’t much help besides freezing the monstrous villain and allowing All Might a chance to escape. All he could do was watch the ensuing battle between titans with Kirishima and Bakugou nearby. 

“We need a plan.” 

Shouto would be lying if he said Midoriya showing up out of the blue like that didn’t startle him, but out of the three, he had the calmest reaction. Midoriya looked different in that moment, assured, confident. It was like he’d been wearing a cloak the entire time and only then let himself be seen in full.  

The plan Midoriya hatched was a sound one, and fortunately, they didn’t have to use it. But then All Might was facing off against Kurogiri and the other villain — the one with hands all over his body. there was a blast of wind pressure and Midoriya was gone.

“Hey!”

Scratch that, Midoriya was hurtling towards the villains with his fist cocked back. It’s a replay of the Hero vs Villain fight. Midoriya throws the punch, and the ensuing burst of air stung Shouto’s eyes. The villains went flying, and the hand covered one said something to Midoriya before Kurogiri warped them away. Kirishima made a move to run over, Shouto held him back with a hand. 

“They’re fine.” He looks to the blood trail left by their homeroom teacher. “We’d be more help with the others.”

Kirishima looked like he wanted to day something but when Bakugou stalked off with a scoff, the redhead followed him. Shouto turned back to Midoriya, who was still laying on the ground. The teen’s figure was tiny in comparison to All Might’s hulking form, but the sheer amount of strength between them... it could break mountains apart. 

Maybe there was more in common between All Might and Midoriya than Quirks. 

Then Eraserhead told them about the sports festival. Shouto could have cared less about it, it was just another event for Endeavor to flaunt his so-called “masterpiece”. The training session would grow harder the closer it comes to the festival, Shouto knew this from experience with other such competitions. He couldn’t do much about it besides mental fortification, shore up his defenses and buffer the storm. 

He had no idea what came over him to sit with Midoriya and his friends. He’d been content to sit on his lonesome since the beginning of the school year, for all intents and purposes that shouldn’t have changed at he announcement of the sports festival. Yet his feet moved of their own accord and by the time he regained control, he’d already stood in front of them. Shouto may avoid social interaction, but even he knew that just walking away would be rude. Usually, he wouldn’t care about that, but the trace of hope in Midoriya’s eyes had him digging his grave without a thought as to why. 

This would be a prime opportunity to learn just what kind of connection Midoriya had to All Might, Shouto had reasoned back then. It would help him better understand the boy who his father would inevitably say was his worst enemy. Gathering information on an enemy was vital to taking them down. Yet the only thing he’d been able to take away from those lunch meetings was that Izuku liked to draw anything from trees to classmates, and more commonly, his cat — the one that caused them to meet all those months ago. 

The gist of what Shouto learned those three weeks could be summed up in a sentence. Midoriya Izuku is a boy who loves katsudon, his mom, his friends, and his cat. The fact that he broke his bones every time he used his Quirk didn’t appear to matter to him. 

Then today happened. 

This morning’s training session was harder than the others. Endeavor’s planning on leaving him alone for the next two days so injuries don’t encumber Shouto in the festival, therefore in his mind that meant ending it on a strong note — in this case, a barrage of blows to Shouto’s stomach when he’d been tripped up.

“The moment you lose your footing, it’s over.” Endeavor had told Shouto while he laid on the floor and gagged. The man’s fire crackled and burned, Shouto hates listening to it. “Now get back up and get ready for school.”

Entering the shower had been a massive relief, the hot water soothing the ache in Shouto’s frame. But he hadn’t been paying attention, a mistake he paid for.

Midoriya saw him, saw every bruise and welt Shouto’s father left. His eyes had been wide, shock and some other indescribable emotion in them. Shouto’s response  had been born of instinct, tearing out of there as fast as he could manage, and for the rest of the day his head is filled with white noise. Will Midoriya tell anyone? No, Shouto can feel the guilty air emanating from the teen. Even so, he avoids Midoriya for the rest of the day. If he can manage it, he’ll avoid him for the next two days, too. 

Shouto’s not a coward. He refuses to think that he is scared of Midoriya, what he might say in response to the bruises. Shouto isn’t vulnerable, he hasn’t been in years. Endeavor made sure of that. So why is his first response to seeing Midoriya to turn away and retreat? 

Closing his eyes, Shouto comes to a conclusion. It doesn’t matter what Midoriya’s connection to All Might is, Shouto is going to beat him for a different reason. He isn’t vulnerable, and he will prove anyone who even thinks otherwise wrong.

——

Shady people, Izuku decides while sitting on the examination table, are the absolute worst, especially when the shady person is Dr. Yogisha. 

Said doctor is sitting across from him, legs crossed and his torso leaning forward. “And this ‘Notice Me Not’,” God, Izuku can hear the air quotes around his Quirk’s name, “it allows you to go completely unseen?” 

Izuku has two options: correct that and elaborate, or just go with it. Take a guess as to which he picks. “Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ at the end. He swings his feet, counting the minutes in his head. Maybe he should be more nervous about a shady doctor asking for details on his Quirk — something he’s spent years keeping under wraps — but he has a speech to prepare for and the longer he stays here the less time he has to work on it. He really shouldn’t have procrastinated. “I can use it anytime, too. Though it’s strength varies.”

The overhead lights glint off Dr. Yogisha’s glasses, Izuku’s reminded of a manga villain. “It’s strength?”

“How likely I am to be noticed.” 

The doctor nods to himself, scribbling away on his clipboard. “I see, I see.”

He doesn’t, Izuku just made it up. Still, he has to keep going with it. “Yeah. The whole, er, breaking my bones thing is kinda new.” He shuffles in his seat, a gesture Izuku knows will be read as awkwardness by Dr. Yogisha. 

“Yes, your mother was very concerned about that when she scheduled your first appointment. Would you like to hear my current theory?” 

Izuku sighs through his nose. “Sure.”

“It appears that participating in the Yuuei entrance exam is what triggered this new development in your Quirk. High stress situations tend to do that in these cases. My current theory is that when you use your Quirk, it stores up energy the longer you go unnoticed, and then it releases.” The doctor readjusts his glasses, clearing his throat, “Of course, it doesn’t explain why that energy’s built up enough to break you every time you use it, but it’s a good start, don’t you think?”

It’s so far off the mark Izuku almost laughs. “It’s probably closer than what I have.” 

The doctor smiles, the ends of his lips vanishing behind his mustache. “Well, that wraps up our meeting today.”

Izuku hops off the table. “Thank you.” He says it out of politeness, but the way Dr. Yogisha’s face shifts has his spine tingling. He can’t get out of the room fast enough. 

Walking home, Izuku starts to wonder what he could do to stop going to Dr. Yogisha. Maybe he should tell mom about One for All, if she knew, she wouldn’t schedule another appointment. The idea has a hole blasted into it when Izuku remembers how serious All Might had been about keeping it a secret. Izuku will just have to start keeping track of his lies, one slip up and he might compromise himself. 

It’s Sunday, one of the few days off mom gets at her job. When Izuku walks into the house, she’s on the couch, watching some soap opera while Han nuzzles into her lap. When the cat notices Izuku’s back, he hops off of mom to bump his shins. 

“Welcome back, honey.” 

Izuku passes her with a smile, “I’m gonna head to my room and try to brainstorm.” He tells her over his shoulder, Han following him down the hall. “Love you, mom!” 

“Good luck, sweetie!” He hears his mom bid from the couch. 

Stepping into his room, Izuku beelines for his desk. Opening up one of his drawers, he takes out at least twenty notecards. Staring at the blank pieces of paper, he cracks his knuckles and gets to work. He writes until his fingers, used to the abuse of writing, begin to cramp. He writes and writes and writes, discarding and adding and mixing things until he finds the right words. During the process, his mind is forced to remove itself from thoughts and worries about Todoroki. It’s the first time he’s felt normal since Friday. 

Han leaps up onto the desk, rubbing against Izuku’s left hand. “Give me a minute, Han.” Izuku tells him, gently pushing the cat away. “I gotta get this done, my speech is tomorrow.” 

Han “mrrp”s and continues to rub against Izuku’s hand. He’s persistent, if nothing else. 

“Han.” Izuku sighs, “fine. You win.” He’s got most of it done, anyways, and he hasn’t been paying nearly as much attention to his cat as he used to. He sets his notecards aside before dedicating both of his hands to rubbing his cat. Han’s fur is soft under Izuku’s fingers, and the rumble of his purr does wonders for the residual anxiety buzzing under his skin. 

Izuku huffs fondly when Han rolls onto his back and blinks slowly. “I wish I could bring you to the festival.” He tells the cat, “You’d make things a lot less stressful.”

Han continues to rub against Izuku’s hand, blissfully unaware of the world. Izuku scoops the cat up and relocates to the bed, where he pulls out his phone and looks up one of the hero sites he visits frequently. With Han purring up a storm in his lap, he clicks the recent posts tab and scrolls. nothing’s too out of the ordinary for the first few posts, but there’s one near the bottom that reads “The Hero-Killer: A Summary So Far”. 

Izuku clicks the post out of morbid curiosity. Going by this guy’s title, he knows what he’s doing, but if Izuku learns his methods, then he can start a file and give the police a baseline on how to take him down.

The information is somehow grizzly and diluted at the same time. The sheer number of heroes that’ve died or had their careers ended is enough to make anyone feel fear cling at their insides, but there’s no details on their injuries. Any heroes that survived their encounters with this Hero-Killer have had their statements censored by the government on the grounds of “public safety”.  The only useful information Izuku can get is where he’s been spotted the most often.

“Hosu, hm?” Izuku reads aloud, clicking his tongue. “That’s a pretty long train ride from here. I guess that means I won’t run into him anytime soon.”

Han looks at him like he knows what Izuku’s thinking. The cat swats at his hoodie string, snagging the fabric with wicked claws and gnawing on it. While occupied, Han’s brown eyes fix on Izuku’s, a silent glare telling him to not be stupid. 

Izuku traces his fingers over Han’s missing ear, “Don’t worry, Han.” He promises, “I’m not going after this guy anytime soon. If I do, then you have full permission to chew my hoodie strings to ribbons.” Han continues to gnaw on his prize, content. 

Izuku manages to read a bit more on the Hero-Killer before his eyes begin to droop. Yawning, he plugs his phone in and adjusts Han so he can lay down. Han grumbles a bit at the manhandling, but curls up in the pocket of Izuku’s stomach with little fuss. 

Izuku stares at his splayed hand, “I hope Todoroki’ll be okay.” He whispers. Han shuffles against his stomach, Izuku feels the rumbles of a gravely purr through his sweatshirt. Slowly, he closes his eyes and falls into his dreams. 

——

The day of the Sports Festival has Izuku waking up at four in the morning. He knows before he even opens his eyes that nerves won’t allow him to go back to sleep, so he swings his legs off the bed and gets ready early. Han takes over his bed while he gets changes, claiming Izuku’s pillow as his throne. Once he’s in uniform, he gives Han the customary morning head rubs before opening the door and walking to the kitchen. 

“Leftover eggs and rice, the breakfast of champions.” Izuku says, taking the food out of the fridge and putting it into the microwave. While it heats up, he fills up Han’s food bowl and turns the tap on. Han leaps onto the counter, sticking his face into the sink and lapping up the steady stream of water. “You’re so weird.” Izuku tells Han, shaking his head. The microwave beeps, Izuku takes his food out and digs in. 

By the time he’s finished with breakfast, his phone reads 4:15. Washing off his plate, Izuku puts it in the sink and heads to the living room. The couch’s old springs creak when he sits down but barely budge when Han join him. The news channel the Tv defaults to is covering the weather for the day, Izuku yawns and switches the channel. That one doesn’t have anything interesting, either. Izuku ends up channel surfing for two minutes before finding coverage on a hero fight the other day. Nestling into the cushions, he watches the playback footage and tries to relax. 

Six o’clock rolls around without warning. Izuku’s still watching Tv when mom walks in, rubbing her eyes. “Izuku?” She asks, muffling a yawn, “How long have you been awake?”

“I woke up at four.” He looks up from the Tv and smiles sheepishly, “I guess nerves are getting to me.” 

Mom plants a kiss on his head, “You’re going to do great, sweetie. You’ve come so far already, just... be careful, okay? I worry.”

With his new method of using One for All, hopefully she won’t have a reason to. “I promise, mom, I’ll be careful.”

She pats his back, “Thank you, Izuku. Now, I’m going to get some breakfast, don’t leave before I can send you off!” Mom pats Han’s head before vanishing into the kitchen, leaving Izuku alone again. She’s not gone long, though. 

“So,” She takes a seat next to Izuku, balancing a plate of food on her lap. “What are you planning to do? I don’t think Notice Me Not is going to work with so many people watching.”

Izuku nods, “Yeah, I’d be lucky to have it up for even a second, and it’d raise too many questions for people watching from their Tvs.” Not to mention Detective Tsukauchi’s probably looking for people that fit his Quirk’s MO. “I was actually hoping I could use the, er, other part of my Quirk.”

Mom frowns, just like Izuku knew she would. “Izuku...”

“I know that it’s hurt me before.” Izuku says, focusing on how Han’s fur feels between his fingers, “but I really think I’m getting the hang of it. I can use it to win, mom, I know it.” 

She‘s not happy about it. Izuku can’t bear looking at her while waiting for a response, so he avoids her sad eyes by keeping his on the Tv screen. The newscasters have moved on from hero fights, now speculating about the Sports Festival and what to expect from the students of UA.

“Usually, people don’t expect much from the first years, but I can say with confidence that everyone will have their eyes on this batch.”

The anchorman’s partner, a woman with black hair pulled into a painfully tight bun, agrees. “Most definitely, Kagoshima. More specifically, on class 1-A. As you know, the class was the victim of an unforeseen attack at the USJ—“

Izuku is very lucky his mom isn’t paying attention to the Tv right now. 

“Izuku,” 

He whips his head back to his mom, “Hm?” 

She’s placed her breakfast on the coffee table. Intertwining her hands and staring down at them, “I know I can’t stop you.”

“Mom—“

She looks up from her hands, staring him down with green eyes of her own. “Let me finish, Izuku.” 

His jaw shuts with a click. 

“Thank you, honey.” His mom sighs, “I can’t stop you, but if you’ve already made up your mind, all I can do is be there for you. So...” She draws him into a bone crushing hug, “Good luck, Izuku. I know you’re going to blow everyone away.” 

Izuku’s eyes burn as he returns the hug, “I love you, mom.” He kisses her on the cheek before he sets out, giving han one last pat before opening the door. 

His morning commute is abuzz with people chattering about who they think will do well in the festival. The bus isn’t too crowded, Izuku’s able to find an empty seat with ease. Taking out his phone, he checks all the hero sites while he waits for his stop. Nothing’s changed all that much, just a new meta-analysis on some heroes, but when he tries to search for the Hero-Killer article the screen reads “the article you searched was taken down on legal grounds, please search for something else”. 

Well, isn’t that suspicious. Izuku sighs and pockets his phone, Gran Torino would smack him silly if he was late. Will the older hero even be there? He hasn’t taken any interns since... ever, and the festival’s just a glorified talent scouting event. A tiny part of Izuku wants the grizzled hero to be there, but it’s outweighed by the rational side of him. Torino has better things to do than watch the student of his student participate in a competition. 

Hopping off the bus, Izuku draws himself up and stares out at the bustling landscape that is the school’s courtyard. Food stands of all kinds are littered around the open space, the few early spectators congregating around them to grab pre-festival snacks.  He can spot a few pro heroes amongst the crowd, mentally listing their names, ranks, and Quirks more out of habit than anything. It’s after the seventh hero that anxiety begins to stir in his stomach. The festival is a big event, he’s watched it every single year with a borderline religious fervor, but the knowledge that he’s now a part of it, that he has the chance to go out there and make himself be seen, it’s terrifying. 

With Notice Me Not up, Izuku doesn’t have to worry about any stray reporters spotting him. Weaving his way to the locker rooms is a piece of cake, it’s what waits inside that’s the problem. Todoroki... this’ll be the first time since Friday that Izuku will see him outside of the classroom. There’s no excuses past this door, no reason to avoid each other, they’re both gonna have to face the music today. Or, you know, Todoroki could keep giving him the cold shoulder, but Izuku knows it’s not likely. This tension between them — whatever it is — is going to boil over today. 

There’s no way to beat around the bush. Izuku breathes in and pushes the door open. He’s not the first one here, Kaminari, Sato, Oijiro, Shouji and Kouda are all in some state of undress. Izuku hurries to step in and close the door, lowering Notice Me Not, he struggles to get more than a weak “hey” out of his mouth. 

Kaminari jerks up in surprise, “Oh, hey! I know I heard the door open, but I didn’t see you there for a sec!” The blond shakes his head, “It’s like you’re Hakagure or something.”

“Personally, I think he’s more like a ninja.” Sato says while putting his gym shirt.

Shouji turns to look Izuku up and down. Staring for another moment, he turns back around. “...cat.”

The other boys — sans Kouda, who’s over in the furthest corner, already dressed — howl in laughter. “Holy shit, you’re right! Midoriya’s a freakin’ cat!”

Izuku feels his entire face heat up. “I— I—”

Kaminari drapes an arm over Izuku’s shoulder, “Hey, it’s okay man. We’re not laughin’ at you, we’re laughin’ with you.”

Izuku can feels his skin tingle where the other teen touches him, but doesn’t have the bravery to move. The words stumble out without rhyme or reason, “I’m... pretty sure that I need to be laughing, too, for you to be... laughing with me.” Hey, he managed a full sentence, go him.

Kaminari pats him once, “Well, you’re never gonna get chuckling when you’re so tense. Ease up a bit, Midoriya!” 

Izuku just wants to hide away, plaster himself to the wall and blend in with the stone. He feels his lips pull into a line as he stands there. God, he’s just standing there, why can’t he move? 

The door opens again. “Hey, assholes, you gonna keep standing in front of the entrance like a couple of jackasses?” 

It’s the first and only time Izuku feels relieved to hear Bakugou’s abrasive voice. Kaminari lifts his arm, allowing him to slip away and head to his locker with his head down. 

“Chill out, man, we were just—“

“Save it, fucker. It’s bad enough I had to have this read haired idiot harping in my ear.”

Izuku’s already taken his shirt off when he hears Kirishima. “Sorry ‘bout Bakugou, Kaminari, he’s kinda snippy ‘cause he’s not the one giving the speech today.” 

“Shut it you fucking—“

“See what I mean?”

Oh yeah, Izuku’s giving the speech. It’s funny he forgot about that, he’d been so worried about it yesterday. He even made all those cards—

The cards, which are on his desk, at home.

If he yells “shit” at full volume, all hell will break loose, so instead, he whispers it with such heartfelt fear he becomes aware of the rush of cold panic that passes through him. He’s an idiot, there is no other explanation for him to leave his notecards at home when he has a huge ass speech to give. He can feel how his legs shake when he moves the leave the locker room. The anxiety follows, curling around his stomach with an iron grip. What’s he going to do? What /can/ he do? There’s not enough time to go home and grab them, and the school is definitely not going to allow his phone to be used as a substitute. He can remember the gist of what he was going to say, but without those prompts on those little slips of paper? He’s going to freeze after the “hello”. 

Each class has an assigned waiting area. In the midst of his misfortune, Izuku finds the one labeled 1-A and steps inside. It’s a nice room, well lit, with a little snack section and water cooler to the side and tables spread out for student use. One problem, Izuku isn’t alone. 

Todoroki’s already dressed for the sports festival, leaning back in one of the chairs with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. Izuku can sense the “do not approach” aura from where he stands and is faced with a dilemma. Everyone else’ll take at least 10 minutes to get here, it’s the perfect time for Izuku to say something, apologize for what happened Friday. On the other hand, Todoroki really doesn’t look like he’s willing to deal with... people in general, if the set of his mouth says anything. Notice-me-not is up, a comforting buzz that fills the background noise, if Izuku doesn’t do anything, no one would know. 

He sits at the table furthest away from Todoroki, shame making his ears warm. He’s a coward, hiding like this. It’s not like Todoroki is Bakugou, he won’t get physical because he’s mad... right? He knows it’s his fear talking, but he doesn’t change his mind, he doesn’t stand up and march himself over to ask what‘s wrong, he sits there and doesnt do anything because he is a goddamn coward. 

Ten minutes creep by at an agonizing pace, each second more tense than the past. Izuku chews on his lip until all he tastes is copper. The tension eases once someone else comes in, but Izuku still keeps his distance. Kouda‘s a quiet classmate, but Izuku still doesn’t want to risk someone talking to him, so notice-me-not stays up and strong as ever. 

Everyone else starts to trickle in, chattering about what they think will be the first event. Based on all the previous festivals Izuku’s watched, he knows it’s going to be an obstacle race, but what kind of obstacles they’ll use is a complete mystery. UA is anything but stale, even if they keep the basic idea the same, they’ll find a way to change it up. 

Uraraka and Iida are one of the last people to enter, shoving past a group of onlookers crowding outside the door. Izuku thanks his lucky stars he got in earlier, even thinking about getting past that mass of bodies gives him anxiety. Now that his friend’s are here, he feels confident in lowering his Quirk. 

Uraraka perks up like a bloodhound catching a scent, spotting him within seconds of notice-me-not melting away. “Midoriya!” She rushes towards him, unwittingly dragging Iida along by his arm. “I can’t believe it’s finally the festival! Are you excited?”

A month of prolonged exposure to Uraraka has, thankfully, allowed him to develop the skill of not tripping over his words too badly. “Yeah, I’m excited, but... a bit nervous, too.” He forgoes mentioning the forgotten flash cards, today’s nerve racking as it is without him verbally confirming his mistake. 

Uraraka drapes her arm over his shoulder, “Well, just know we’ve got your back, even if it is a competition.” She winks, Izuku feels himself unwinding a bit at the cheerful aura coming from her. 

Iida pulls out the seat next to Izuku. “We have all been training very hard, I’m certain that you will do fine, Midoriya.”

Izuku stares down at his hands, “Thanks, Iida.” There’s not much else to say, which is of course when things go to hell. He’s so caught up in Iida and Uraraka, he completely forgot about the very real dilemma between him and Todoroki, who just so happens to be standing in front of him now. There’s a brief flash of terror that flares in Izuku’s gut, but it’s overrun by worry. Todoroki, he looks... exhausted. It doesn’t show physically, but Izuku can see the way he holds himself, the semi-glazed look in his eyes, there’s a bone-deep tiredness clear as a neon sign to those who know the signs. Is this because of what happened Friday? Did izuku have a hand in this?

“Midoriya.” Todoroki’s voice is too tired for emotion, the hole in Izuku’s stomach grows wider. “Your Quirk is strong, but looking at things objectively, I believe that I’m stronger.”

Izuku blinks, “A-ah, you’re probably right about that—“ 

“But even then,” Todoroki continues, “you have All Might watching, don’t you?”

Izuku has to physically stop himself from flinching.  “He’s our teacher,” he defends weakly, “he’ll be watching everyone—“

Todoroki’s not interested in what he has to say. “I’m going to beat you, regardless of who’s watching.”

Well, this is about as helpful as talking to a rock. Izuku wants to say something, but the words get caught in his mouth. Todoroki turns around and walks away, Izuku can only spot it because he’d been looking for it, but there’s a bruise peeking out from the back of the other teen’s collar. 

“Todoroki.” 

The room is silent, everyone watching this exchange with wide eyes and tense postures. For once, Izuku doesn’t give a hot damn if they stare. Todoroki, he’s... he’s— 

He’s like Izuku, in more ways than one. 

The first word’s out, it’s the icebreaker for all the others to come rushing in. “You‘re stronger than me, that’s true.” He dares himself to make eye contact, drilling into Todoroki’s surprised eyes with a determined fire, “but don’t write me or anyone else off, yet! We’re all going to try our hardest. And... and if I can, I’m going to try my best to beat you, too!” 

There’s a crack in Todoroki’s demeanor, Izuku can spot it in his eyes. A light that wasn’t before, the excitement of a challenge. It’s the first real sign of life Izuku’s seen from him in days. “I’ll hold you to that.” He says quietly, walking off to his side of the room. 

Izuku nods to himself and turns around, being greeted by Uraraka’s face alarmingly close to his. “Um...”

“That. Was. Awesome.” She whisper-yells, “You really took a stand there, Midoriya!” 

Izuku rubs his shoulder, “I just kinda said what came to mind, it wasn’t anything.”

Iida crosses his arms, “I disagree. Standing up to a friend like that, it was very courageous.”

“And,” Uraraka adds, practically wiggling in excitement, “you didn’t stutter at all!” She punches the air with a fist, “You’ve got this speech in the bag!” 

The overwhelming faith in him knocks Izuku for a loop. “I—“ the adrenaline still hasn’t worn off, it’s what allows him to smile at the praise instead of pass out. “Thank you.”

An voice comes in from the overhead speakers. “All first-year students, please begin to make your way to the stadium entrance. You will walk out in the alphabetical order of your class.”

Uraraka nudges him, “That’s our cue. Come on, lets get going before we’re the last ones to get out.”

The hallway they have to walk through is long, and with each step, Izuku can feel Todoroki’s eyes boring into his back. But he can’t worry about that, as much as he wants to. This is the sports festival, everyone is going to be watching, All Might included. This’s his chance to tell the world he’s here, and he’s not going to be ignored. 

All the bravado leaks out once he takes that first step into the arena. Roaring crowds nearly deafen him, and when he looks at the big screen, he sees himself looking back. 

Present Mic’s voice comes in through the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, I can feel the excitement! You know ‘em, you love ‘em, give a ‘hell yeah’ for class 1-A!” 

The cheering somehow increases in volume. Izuku can feel his shoulders shriveling in on themselves the longer he looks into the crowded stadium seats. He knew there’d be a lot of people, but... this many... it makes his stomach flip. 

Present Mic continues his narration. “As you all know by now, these students are a cut above the rest! Not only did they all score well on their entrance exams, but they took on real life villains and came out on top! Especially the dark horse of the class, Midoriya Izuku, who just so happens to be giving the opening speech!” It’s met with a roar of applause louder than any before. 

A jelly feeling’s making itself home in Izuku’s legs, each step feels like they might give out on him. 

“I guess they got word of what I told our classmates.” Uraraka says. She pats him on the back, “It’ll be okay, Midoriya.“

Izuku wants to believe her. 

The other classes are all introduced with a notable decline in excitement. Present Mic’s a pro at working up crowds, but the enthusiasm just isn’t there like it was for 1-A. Izuku makes eye contact with a teen with purple hair and a deadly scowl from 1-C. He can feel the disdain in those insomniac eyes and hurries to look away. 

The crowd of students begins to quiet when a female, risqué figure climbed the steps onto the small platform set up in the center stadium. “Good morning, everyone!” Midnight, the 18+ hero, calls out. There’s all sorts of replies, some polite, others.. crude, but quiet enough that she couldn’t hear. “Now, I know you’re all eager to go right into the action, but first, an opening speech by the highest-scoring applicant for the first year entrance exams! Will Midoriya Izuku please come forward?”

Izuku can hear himself gulp. When he tries to move, he stumbles, but Iida catches him before he can fall.

“You will do fine.” His friend reminds him before gently pushing him towards the front of the crowd. 

Breaking ranks from the group, Izuku can feel the exact moment the spectators’ eyes lock onto him, actually feel it. Hundreds of tiny pressures prickling over his back, not painful, but not comfortable, either. “You can do this.” He whispers, closing his eyes as he ascends the stairs with shaky legs. “You’ve got this.”

Midnight gives him a semi-reassuring smile before stepping away from the mic with a flourish. “Knock ‘em dead.” She whispers. 

“Y-yeah.” He steps towards the mic, feeling his throat get dryer by the second. “H-hello, everybody.” 

No one replies. Izuku can feel every stare, each hateful look from the other departments and knows what he’d planned originally won’t get past his mouth. It’s a strike of luck — or misfortune, depending how you look at it — that he spots Todoroki. 

The other teen looks the same as he did this morning, cold, horrifyingly cold and dead to emotion. Izuku closes his eyes, counts his breaths, and speaks. His voice is wobbly, he swears the way he shakes is affecting the way his voice sounds, but he doesn’t stop once he gets going. “We—we’re all coming into this with expectations. Some are f-for ourselves, some come f-from others. But... that doesn’t matter, what m-matters right now is trying our b-best. No m-matter what happens, I know that if I try my b-best, I won’t regret a thing, even if I lose. So—“ he exhales, “What I’m t-trying to say is: the only way you’ll l-lose today is if you don’t give it your all.” 

Silence, absolute silence. Then, like a spark that ignites the gunpowder, he hears Uraraka yell. 

“Hell yeah, Midoriya!” 

It’s a chain reaction after that. A large, uncontrolled chain reaction of students from all classes yelling their promises to do their damndest. Izuku’s left standing there in shock, watching the rippling effect his words have on the crowd below him and the stadium around him. 

“An incredible opening speech!” Present Mic yells over the speakers, “Yo, Eraserhead! Any words of wisdom for your star pupil?”

Wait, Eraserhead’s commentating? Izuku’s head whips up to the commentator stand. Sure as hell, his teacher is sitting in the adjacent seat to the loud hero, still wrapped up like a mummy. 

“... I’ve heard worse.” Is all his teacher has to offer. It feels like the equivalent of hugging Izuku. 

“Now, now.” Midnight says, gently guiding a still shocked Izuku off the platform. “Everyone, quiet down, I’m about to announce the first event!” 

Izuku manages to get back to Uraraka and Iida, but not without some of the other students whispering “Awesome speech, Midoriya.” and patting him on the back. By the time he does reach his friends, the so called “random” selection of the first event is nearing it’s final choice. Izuku isn’t terribly surprised when Midnight announces, “The first challenge will be an obstacle course!” But he is when only a section of the wall behind them opens up. 

It’s milliseconds before everything devolves into chaos. Students shove and push each other to get through the narrow choke point. Izuku doesn’t worry himself about it. 

At the moment, Izuku can barely handle 4-5% of One for All. The situation could get out of hand fast, making him lose control. For the sake of preventing his limbs from breaking, using 1 or 2% is ideal. Taking a few steps to build up his momentum, Izuku lets the crackling energy of One for All course through him. Leaping up onto the wall is almost alarmingly easy, and reading the other end of it is done in a matter of seconds. Landing back on the ground with a sloppy front roll, he keeps his momentum going and picks a steady pace. 

The zero-point robots are as big as ever, but Todoroki unknowingly helps Izuku out by freezing them all in precarious positions. It’s a matter of upping his usage to 3% for a short burst. He clears the danger zone seconds before the robots collapse on each other. Izuku can feel the ground shake under him, and while he doesn’t look back, he knows it’s going to delay most of the other students for at least ten minutes. 

So the race starts like this: Todoroki is up ahead, jogging with minimal exertion, secure in the assumption that no one else got past. Izuku thanks his lucky stars Present Mic is too busy narrating the students’ attempts getting past the metal debris to comment on him. He keeps a healthy distance between them, unwilling to have Todoroki become aware of him and possibly freeze him in place.

“Deku! You fuckwad!” 

1% of One for All is still enough for Izuku to be faster than most of the other students, but Bakugou? Being driven by anger like he is now? He doesn’t have a chance. Peeking behind him, Izuku yelps when he sees the blond hot on his tail. His body forces itself to drop in order to dodge the incoming projectile that is Bakugou. It saves him from being rammed into, but costs him speed and momentum. By the time he gets it back to where he was before, he’s forced to skid to a stop because there is a massive canyon with a few ropes attaching the few dozen rock outcroppings in the middle together. 

“... You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He toes one of the ropes, watching it droop a bit before going tense. “Well,” He says, getting One for All ready again, “here goes nothing.” 

Balancing on a rope is harder than it looks, and it already looks pretty dang hard. Izuku watches with dismay as students catch up and surpass him using tech and Quirk alike. He can only imagine how this looks to mom, to All Might. By the time he reaches the other side, he’s in twentieth place, but it’s not over yet, there’s still a few more obstacles before the finish line. Izuku can make it, he can and he will because mom’s watching at home and he doesn’t want to disappoint her. 

Izuku doesn’t learn what the third obstacle is until a kid in front of him goes flying in a cloud of pink smoke. Some of it gets in his lungs, forcing him to stop and cough it all out before getting a proper look at the scene ahead of him.

Dozens of mines litter the field, some have already detonated, others are barely noticeable. Izuku needs a second to take it all in because landmines, they’re actually using landmines in a high school sporting event. But when that second’s over, his mind is already hashing out a new strategy. It’s stupid, it’s reckless, and it’s exactly what he needs to get first place. Crouching into a starting position, One for All at 3% burns through his muscles, snapping like a whip when he takes off. Nearing the first landmine, he takes a breath and takes a longer stride than normal. His heel lands right on the rim, putting enough pressure on it to detonate. The momentum he’s built up already keeps him from toppling over, and the force of the explosion is more than enough to propel him to the next landmine. He zips past the other competitors, leaving them in his literal dust as he cleaves a trail of craters and pink smoke behind him. 

Todoroki and Bakugou are now in sight, and for once, Izuku’s luck is on his side, because there are two landmines placed side-by-side coming up. He has to time this right, or he’ll go flying like he should’ve when he stepped on that first landmine. 

Wait.

Izuku prepares One for All.

Wait.

Todoroki and Bakugou get closer to the landmines. 

NOW.

The sudden increase to 6% makes Izuku’s bones creak under the pressure, but the burst in speed in undeniable. He zips forward, ahead of both Todoroki and Bakugou. Then, right as he planned, his feet land on the two landmines at the same time. 

He doesn’t try to control how he hurtles towards the finish line, and when he finally touches down, he goes sprawling into the grassy stadium field, tearing up dirt with how hard he skids. He lays there for a quick moment, registering the road-rash (dirt-rash?”) littering his arms and legs. His face, thankfully, is pretty much unscathed. Staring up at the wonderfully blue sky, he finally registers what Present Mic is hollering over the speakers. 

“Incredible! Amazing! Astounding! Who would have thought to use the landmines to propel themselves? I can say with confidence that I have never seen such a thing before in my life! Ladies and gentlemen, our first place winner, Midoriya Izuku!” 

The cheers are still as deafening as they were before, but Izuku’s still hung up on what the hero said about him. Heh, Eraserhead is going to have him write lines about not being so reckless. He doesn’t care about that right now, a familiar face has appeared in his vision. 

Todoroki is standing above him, looking down with an expression that’s a careful blend of disbelief and shock. “You...” the teen says, “just what were you thinking?”

The adrenaline high is coming down, leaving Izuku dizzy and kinda giggly. “Oh, you know,” he gives the silliest grin he can manage, “I decided I was gonna go out with a bang.”

Todoroki stares. Then, he smiles for the first time since Friday. It suits him, makes his eyes a bit brighter and his aura less dreary. Izuku wishes he would see it more often. 

“You are... something else, Midoriya Izuku.” 

Izuku laughs, “You don’t know the half of it.” 

He’s here, he’s in the middle of the Yuuei sports festival and he is being seen. Thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of people are seeing him for the very first time, and he just gave them all a reason to stay tuned. For once, other people know he’s there and it doesn’t scare him one bit.

It feels pretty damn great. 

Chapter Text

Izuku knows he can’t lay on this grass forever, but dang is it tempting. The earth radiates a pleasant heat, clouds blot out the glaring sun, soft grass cushions his head, all he needs to do is close his eyes and he’ll be out like a light. But things don’t always play out like Izuku wants. 

Iida comes into Izuku’s field of vision. His expression perplexed, he asks, “Midoriya, are you aware that you’re on the ground?” 

Izuku makes eye contact with his friend. “Yes, I’m aware.” 

“Ah... do you need any help getting up?” 

“Nah, I’m good.” Izuku’s eyes close on their own, letting the post-adrenaline calm  wash over him. “This is actually really nice.” He hears new footsteps and a familiar, feminine voice. 

“M-Midoriya? Are you ok? Do we need to get Recovery—“

“M’fine.” Izuku says, opening his eyes to look at his two friends. “Just tired.” Extended use of One for All seems to have that effect. He might have to look into more stamina training. 

Uraraka blinks, “Oh, okay.” He’s not expecting her to lay down next to him. “Man,” She says, stretching her arms above her head, “this feels nice.” Lifting her head, she gestures to the open space next to her. “Iida, join us.” 

“Midoriya, Uraraka, this is hardly befitting of Yuuei students—“ 

Uraraka starts chanting “join us”, Izuku joins in after the second chant. By then, his eyes have closed again, but he can feel Iida sitting down through the earth. 

“I still stand by what I said... but you were both correct to say that this does feel rather nice.” 

Uraraka laughs. “The exam wonder trio, back at it again.” 

They sit around like that until Present Mic starts announcing the final students to pass the finish line. His scrapes sting and throb with movement, but Izuku ignores it in favor of looking around. While the power nap was very much needed, it leaves him a tad drowsy. He spots Oijiro, Tokoyami, Bakugou, Todoroki, and... the kid from 1-C who looks like he hasn’t slept a day in his life. He’s making eye contact, staring at Izuku with such hate it leaves him baffled. As far as Izuku can remember, he’s never interacted with this guy, never had the chance to shove his foot into his mouth or make a faux pass, so why is he mad? 

Present Mic comes in over the loudspeakers. “And coming in forty-first and fourty-second, Yaoyorazu Momo and Mineta Minoru! Give it up for the students who’ve made it into the second round!” The few jumbo screens placed around the arena start playing clips of the race, starting with footage of Izuku using the mines to laugh himself forwards. 

“To recap: coming in first place with a rather explosive entrance, Midoriya Izuku!” A raucous round of applause, “In second, Todoroki Shouto! And in third, Bakugou Katsuki! Give it up for our top three, listeners!” He gives the audience a moment to get their cheering out before continuing. “Now, you all might be wondering, ‘what might be next for our little heroes in the making? Well, wonder no more, Midnight! Do your thing!” 

“With pleasure, Mic.” Midnight appears in one of the arena entrances, twirling a microphone in one hand and holding her signature whip in the other. “Now, to recap, forty-two students have made it into the second round. Before we go on, I’d like to—“

A hand rises from the crowd. Izuku’s mildly surprised to see it’s Oijiro. “Midnight, ma’am? I don’t feel that I’ve earned my spot here. I’d like to resign.”

Muttering erupts around them, curious onlookers trying to speculate. Midnight silences them all with a crack of her whip. “It’s certainly not unheard of for students to drop out, are you certain?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“Well,” Midnight looks out into the crowd of students, “would anyone else like to drop? There’s no shame in it.” Only one other student raises their hand. “Well, please join the other students by exiting to your left.” She then turns around to adress the audience. “Let’s hear it for the forty students that have made it to the second challenge!”

Izuku stares at Oijiro’s retreating back. He hasn’t had the chance nor the courage to talk to his tailed classmate, but this feels out of character. Maybe Izuku can find him later, ask if he’s okay. Though, considering his track record with other classmates, maybe it’d be better if he kept to himself. 

Izuku’s attention is pulled back to Midnight, “Now! The second challenge will be,” Present Mic plays audio of a drumroll over the speakers, “a game of ‘the floor is lava’!”

Izuku needs a moment to stand there and register that, because Yuuei — the most prestigious hero school in Japan — is using a child’s game as part of the sports festival. This is his life now. Don’t ask him how it got to this point. But hey, at least he’s not the only one confused, everyone else is in the same boat. 

Midnight smiles coyly, “Cementoss, if you would?” 

The hero steps forward, placing his blocky hands on the ground. The earth begins to rumble. Izuku watches in fascination as concrete bubbles up from under them like lava, forming a square and building more from there. Structures started to form, platforms, poles, obstacles.

Midnight claps her hands, drawing everyone’s focus back to her. “Your goal is to stay off the ground as long as you can! Any contact and you’ll be out! The game will continue until there are sixteen left standing. While teams are not a requirement, they are allowed. You have fifteen minutes to make plans!” A timer pops up on the Jumbotron. A horn blares and the countdown begins. 

Okay, fifteen minutes to make a plan, Izuku can do this. He scans the platform and its initial obstacles with a keen eye. If he could manage to keep One for All at one or two percent like he did in the race, he could use his momentum to carry himself onto the higher obstacles. Midnight didn’t mention any rule against sabotage once the game starts, so Izuku’s playing it safe and assuming that yes, he can make people fall off. As for teammates—

“Midoriya, maybe I can use my quirk on both of us so we don’t fall?”

Uraraka’s on it. 

Izuku turns to Iida, who’s been pretty quiet since the announcement. “Iida? Do you want to team up, too?” 

Iida’s the class president, he’s spent at least one hour cumulatively lecturing the class on how important teamwork is, which is what makes him shaking his head so shocking. 

“I’m sorry,” and to his merit, he really does sound apologetic, “but I feel like I wouldn’t be giving it my all if I teamed up with you.”

Izuku’s not too sure how to reply to that. To be fair, he almost never knows how to reply to anything. “Th-that’s fine, Iida. Either w-way, let’s do our best.”  He holds out his hand, because that’s what feels like the right thing to do right now. To his major relief, Iida nods and takes his hand in a solid grip.

Everyone else has gathered in little groups, planning initial strategies. Todoroki, Bakugou, and a handful of others stay on their own. 

The timer reads 10 minutes, and so far, Izuku’s team consists of Uraraka and himself. It’s a lot better than if he was alone, but if they had at least one more member, it’d be fantastic.

“You’ve got a real interesting Quirk.” A voice drawls behind Izuku, making his hair stand on end with the poorly hidden disdain. “Really explains how you even got accepted in the first place, what with all that stuttering. Man, they’ll let anyone in these days, won’t they?”

Turning around, Izuku locks eyes with who he recognizes as the blond boy from 1-B. For the most part, Izuku likes blue, it’s a calming color and he loves to see it every time there’s a clear day. This blue, however, the blue that’s boring into him, evaluating him and finding him wanting, makes Izuku want to shrink. 

Uraraka frowns, stepping beside Izuku. “Dude, what’s your problem?” 

“My problem?” The teen laughs like it’s some kind of joke. “My problem is that stuttering messes like him get into 1-A while 1-B gets treated like it’s second-best.” He smiles with nothing but malice in the expression. “Not like it’ll matter. 1-B’s going to show everyone that we’re the best, what better start than taking down their poster child—“ 

Izuku dimly registers the orange haired girl coming up while the blond monologues, but he’s still surprised when her hand smacks the teen over the head. The blond slumps to the ground, stunned by the hit. 

“I’m sorry for his rudeness.” The girl says, bowing with a weary sigh. “Try not to take it personally, he’s always like this. Though I can say in confidence that none of my other classmates really hate 1-A.” She grabs the blond by the back of his shirt collar, dragging him away while he mumbles. 

Izuku and Uraraka stand there, trying to understand what just happened. 

“Well,” Uraraka clicks her tongue, “that happened.” 

“Yeah, that was...” Izuku breathes out through his nose, “really something.” 

Uraraka pats his shoulder, “You okay? He was saying some really mean things.” 

Not really. In less than a minute, that kid managed to target his main insecurity and go after it without mercy. Yet the timer reads 8:30 and Izuku can’t afford to waste any more time, so he chooses not to dwell on it for the moment. “Y-yeah.” Izuku lies, “I-I’m good.” 

“Good.” Uraraka pumps her fist into the air, “now let’s make some game plans! We gotta kick that guy’s ass!”

“I-is that really a good idea?”

His friend looks at him with an unreadable expression. “Izuku,” She says patiently, “he just talked smack. Where I’m from, we have a saying: ‘talk shit, get hit’. He just talked to you like you were a stain on his shoe, and you know what? Karma’s gonna smack him over the head—“

“—I’m pretty sure his classmate already did—“ 

“—And if the powers that be choose you and me to do it, who are we to refuse?”

Izuku’s not getting anywhere with this. It would probably be better if he joins in and tries to run damage control. Is this what it’s like to have friends stick up for you? If so, he’s not sure if he can keep up with Uraraka’s surprisingly violent tendencies.

Eight minutes and half a dozen plans later, Midnight calls the students to the edge of the concrete arena. Izuku and Uraraka stand side by side. Uraraka, for the most part, is relaxed, a bit nervous, but nothing too obvious. Izuku, on the other hand, feels like he’s shaking so hard he’ll ascend into a new state of being.

Midnight cracks her whip, Izuku’s still trying to figure out why administration let her have it in the first place, what with being surrounded by minors. “Contestants, are you ready?” She’s met with the battle cries of 39 teenagers, Izuku tries to join in, but nerves make his vocal cords freeze up. “Wonderful! Now, everyone get onto an object!” She gives them a minute to do as she says. “Now! The second challenge of the Yuuei sports festival begins in five!”

Uraraka positions herself behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve got this.” She tells him.

“Four!” 

Izuku feels himself gulp, “Yeah.”

“Three!” 

Uraraka’s tapping a nervous little tune on his shoulder. “You know, my dad had a saying when I was little.”

“Two!”

“Really?”

One!” 

“Yeah, ‘if life gives you lemons, squeeze them in life’s eyes’.”

Izuku can’t help it, he laughs. 

“Go!” 

A switch flips between them, swapping their anxiety with cold determination. Tapping herself, Uraraka hops up onto Izuku, wrapping her legs around his torso and clutching his shoulders. The crackle of One for All courses through him, charging his very cells. Leaping to the nearest platform is easy, Uraraka nothing more than a feather on his back. He keeps hopping until he’s near the outskirts of the arena. 

The vantage point let’s him see everything going on further in.  Bakugou’s launching himself from platform to platform via his explosions, kicking anyone who happens to be in his way. One of the 1-C kids goes spinning off track, landing so hard on the ground Izuku winces in sympathy. 

“1-B kid coming in from the left.” Uraraka whispers. 

Indeed, one of the other students is heading their way. Izuku dimly remembers him from the race, his Quirk has something to do with liquefying solids. He can easily make the platforms impossible to stay on, but maybe they don’t have to use them. 

Izuku eyes the concrete pole sticking up ten, maybe twelve meters away. “Uraraka,”

“Yeah?”

“Use your Quirk on me when I jump.”

“What are you—“ she yelps when Izuku shoots off from the platform, but keeps her wits about her and does as he says. 

His stomach roils at the sudden loss of gravity, but it allows him to fly towards the pole with little effort. A jump like this, sans zero-gravity, would’ve taken him using six percent again, and his bones still ache a little from last time. 

He grabs the pole with one hand, swinging around it a few times to lose momentum. Once he and Uraraka have slowed down enough, he starts to climb. 

Once he’s perched himself on the top of the pole, he feels comfortable enough to say, “Okay, release me.” Gravity makes him wobble a bit, but with Uraraka barely weighing him down it’s easy to regain his balance. 

The new bird’s-eye-view let’s him see every part of the arena. The kid who’d been making his way to surprise them is staring at them in shock, his mouth hanging open. He’s too distracted to notice Iida coming up behind him. A gentle nudge, and the kid from 1-B is on the ground and out. 

Good to know Iida’s doing just fine. 

Tsuyu’s doing a pretty good job at hopping from one platform to the next, but doesn’t counteract Ashido’s slippery acid in time to keep herself in the game. Kirishima’s baiting people to come in close, activating his Quirk just in time to absorb their attack and bodily throw them off the platforms. Kaminari’s short-circuiting people just as they move to change platforms, making their muscles seize up and make them fall to the ground. All in all, class 1-A is doing pretty good. 

“Oi! Midoriya!” Izuku looks down on reflex, just in time to see a piece of tape stick to the pole. Sero flies towards them, grinning. “Heads up!” 

Izuku hunches over the top of the pole. “Get ready.” He feels Uraraka’s grip tighten on him before he flips One for All on. Squatting, he manages to snag Sero’s tape off off the concrete. He spares a moment to look at his incoming classmate. The adrenaline makes him bold enough to grin, “Hold on tight!” 

“What— ack!” Sero’s confusion bleeds into fear when Izuku leaps with the line of tape held tight. The sudden shift in momentum, combined with Izuku pushing on like a demented freight train, makes the tape snap at Sero’s elbow, leaving him in a free-fall towards the ground. He manages to get another line of tape out, and it does slow his fall, but not enough to keep him from landing on the ground with a soft “oof”. 

“Yeah!” Uraraka cheers, “Eat it, Sero!” She quiets down while he hops across a few slabs of concrete, but eventually says, “Hey, Midoriya, let’s kick some ass.”

Izuku doesn’t know where her competitive streak came from, but it honestly scares him. “H-hey, lets calm down a bit?”

“On the left!” 

Izuku skids to a halt at the edge of a platform, just in time to see Bakugou blasting towards them. 

Izuku can see his demise burning in those red eyes. “Deku!” Bakugou yells, “Fight me, you fucking coward!” Izuku’s forced to go to a previous platform, seeing that Bakugou just destroyed the one he and Uraraka had been on moments before. Being someone with a mostly-functioning sense of self-preservation, Izuku charges up One for All and takes off, leaving a screaming Bakugou in his metaphorical dust. 

“Midoriya,” Her voice is jittery from how often Izuku’s jumping, “he’s hot on our tail, what do we do?”

Thoughts come and go through Izuku’s mind faster than any percentage of One for All could make him. There has to be some kind of solution, some tactic that’ll surprise Bakugou enough to give them the advantage—

“It’s risky,” he says, launching them into the air , “but it might be crazy enough to work.”

Uraraka pinches his shoulder, “That’s nice and all, but you gotta tell me first.” 

“We have to—“ his foot slips, ending his sentence early with a yelp. He lands on his hands and knees. He’s still on the platform, thank God, but he doesn’t have much time to be thankful. 

“Gotcha, damn nerd!” 

“Midoriya.” Uraraka babbles, “I hope your plan’s ready, cause he’s—“ 

Her voice is drowned out by the sound of crackling. Izuku shivers at the sudden temperature change, watching his breath come out as frost. He scrambles to his feet and stands in awe of what he turns around to. A wall of ice at least ten feet thick separates him and Uraraka from Bakugou. To his left, he spots a head of red and white hair dashing away from them. 

Todoroki. Why...?

The sound of Bakugou blasting his way through the barricade cuts that thought short. No matter Todoroki’s reasons, he just gave Izuku the perfect opportunity. “Uraraka, get off my back.” He feels her legs unwrap from around his waist. “Bakugou’s blast radius at this power is about five or six feet. Can you see where he’s centering them?” He doesn’t wait for confirmation, “Hide against the wall. He’ll be too busy with me to notice you. After he’s through and in front of you, I want you to use your Quirk on him.” 

For once, Bakugou’s prickly personality plays into Izuku’s favor. Everyone’s deemed him the most obvious threat, and as such they do their best to be as far from him as possible. There’s little to no chance of another student coming over and pushing Izuku or Uraraka off. She’s just taken her place when the ice starts showing visible cracks

Izuku winces when the ice shatters, sending bit flying in every direction. At the center of the blast as always, Bakugou stands hunched and growling. “I.” He pants, “Am going. To kill you. You fucking. Deku.” 

Izuku takes a step back knowing that Bakugou will chase after him. “I-It’s not going to be like when we w-were little, Bakugou.” 

“Really?” His palms spark with the promise of pain, “And why’s that?” The feeling of someone touching the back of his neck makes him pause. 

Izuku’s lips press into a line that could almost be interpreted as a smile. “Because I’m not alone this time.” Darting forwards, he grabs Bakugou’s arm and starts to spin. Bakugou, now taken leave of gravity, weighs barely anything, and as such, he gains momentum too fast for him to counteract it with an explosion. Izuku winds up the throw, and when he lets go, Bakugou’s sent hurtling up into the sky. He has no delusions, Bakugou’s going to come after him and Uraraka with a vengeance; but, when Izuku looks at the Jumbotron and sees only seventeen people left, he thinks that with a bit of luck they just might live to see the third challenge. 

Uraraka cups her hands, yelling, “And stay gone!” With a face-splitting grin. She looks at Izuku, who’s resting his hands on his knees. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He says, “Yeah. I just— we threw Bakugou like he was a discus. Having a bit of trouble processing that.”

Uraraka laughs, patting his back. “Take your time.” Once he’s back upright, she throws her arm over his shoulder and makes a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Two-thirds of the exam wonder trio, kicking ass and taking names. God help anyone that goes against us.”

Izuku giggles a little at that. 

Then, like a church bell, the final buzzer rings. “Aaaand that’s the end of the second challenge!” Present Mic announces, “And now, a quick break for our lucky sixteen to catch their breath! After that, the 1v1 matches will begin! Starting with these matchups!” 

Names appear on the screen, Izuku only pays attention to four names. Todoroki’s paired with a kid from 1-C named Shinsou. Hitoshi. Uraraka with Kaminari. Iida’s going against Bakugou, Izuku winces when he spots that. And he himself is against someone named... Monoma Neito. For some reason, the name sparks a feeling of dread.

Uraraka looks up at a cursing blond figure steadily coming closer. “I think that’s our cue.” She says, releasing Bakugou and grabbing Izuku’s hand. As they walk off the platforms to the exit, she starts talking. “So, I’m going against Kaminari, huh? Well, at least I know he’s got a limit before he dries his brain. What about you? You know this ‘Monoma’ Guy?” 

“I should hope so!” A haughty voice says from behind them. “Because I’m going to be the one who beats you like the sorry wannabe you are!” 

Izuku’s lungs freeze up. He turns around and goes face-to-face with the boy from before. The blue eyes are just as hateful as they were last time, possibly even more so. 

“Man,” The now named Monoma drawls, “how great it must be, relying on someone else to do your work for you.” 

Uraraka grabs Izuku’s arm a bit tighter, pulling him away. “Come on, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 

“You can’t hide behind your friend forever!” Monoma yells after him, “in half an hour, everyone will know what a pushover you are!” 

“Don’t listen to him.” She mutters, looking darkly over her shoulder. 

Izuku nods. He feels a weight pressing down on his shoulders, almost unbearably heavy. Even the comforting buzz of Notice Me Not doesn’t do much against it. He can’t tell if it’s the crowd’s stare or Monoma’s. 

The AC they walk into helps cool his steadily heating face, so at least heatstroke won’t be a concern. Monoma has to take a different tunnel to his class’ break room, something Izuku is ridiculously happy for. God, why does he let the guy get to him? Izuku’s earned the right to be here like anyone else. He’s sweat, bled, and cried — good lord has he cried — for months to inherit One for All, to have the chance to be a hero. So why? Why can a few words tear down the meager confidence he’s built up over these months?

His pace slows and eventually stops near the bathroom. “Hey, Uraraka?” 

“Yeah?”

“I’m just gonna... use the bathroom. I’ll meet up with you later.”

Uraraka looks at him with concern, but doesn’t press him. “Okay, Midoriya. See you.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, staring at her retreating back, “see you.”

The bathroom is empty. Tile floors and tile walls hold only Izuku’s shadow when he steps in, and careful inspection confirms that he is, in fact, alone. He hurries to the sink, fumbling with the faucet to turn the water on. He stares at the running liquid, putting his hands into the stream and feeling it run through his hands. His face feels too hot, so he splashes himself with a bit of water and gasps a bit at just how cold it is. 

“You’re stupid.” He tells himself, staring into the reflection. His eyes are still watery from holding back tears, his lip’s wobbling dangerously and his hair has grass clumps in it still. “You’re so, incredibly stupid!” He slams his hands down on the counter, smacking against marble with a loud wham. He stares at the hairline cracks he made and wants to scream. “What’s the point? What’s the point in having One for All, putting yourself through hell and then some, just to start crying at words?” He covers his eyes with his hands, trying to catch his breath. “You, are Midoriya Izuku” he tells himself, uncovering his eyes and staring back at his reflection. “You’ve done everything to get here. You’re learning how to use Notice Me Not and One for All, why does some— some bully’s taunts get to you?” He smiles, it’s wobbly at best, “Bakugou’s ten times the bully he is, and you sent him flying.” The self-administered pep talk starts to work. Izuku can feel his mood brightening, and, just for a moment, he thinks he can do this. 

Then he steps out of the bathroom and is confronted with an entirely new problem. 

On the opposite side of the hall, Todoroki and Endeavor are having some sort of discussion. Izuku hesitates to call it a real conversation because Todoroki looks ready to spit on the number two hero’s shoes. 

It’s a mix of stupidity and curiosity that has Izuku coming closer. Notice Me Not is a light cloak around him, allowing him to get close enough to listen in.

“— expected more of you.” Endeavor says with a scowl, “When are you going to grow up and cease this petty rebellion? It’s demeaning, for both of us.”

Todoroki’s expression darkens. Izuku can feel the air grow colder — and it’s not a metaphor, frost is crackling on Todoroki’s right side. “What I do with my ice is none of your concern. I’ll win this without using my fire. I’ve renounced your fire for this long, it’s not like it’ll be hard.” 

Renounced his fire? Izuku’s only seen Todoroki use ice. Though, considering who his father is, it isn’t out of the realm of possibility that he inherited a mix of his parent’s Quirks. But there’s something wrong with this entire conversation. Izuku’s never had a conversation with his father, so he doesn’t really have a baseline to speak of, but Todoroki’s posture is too stiff for talking to a family member. His hands are halfway clenched, like he can’t decide wether or not to curl them and settled for something in the middle. Todoroki’s acting like he’s half expecting Endeavor to throw a punch—

The bruises Izuku saw in the showers. Endeavor’s hands are big enough to leave those kind of marks. And the burns, oh god, the burns. The pieces are clicking together, showing a picture Izuku never wanted to see. 

Endeavor scoffs, his flames crackle a bit louder. “The boy with green hair. I’ve heard his power is awfully similar to All Might’s.”

Todoroki’s lips twitch into a frown fro the briefest of moments. “He won’t be a problem.”

“I Hope so, Shouto. Don’t forget, you are my masterpiece, your only reason for being in this world is to surpass All Might.”

Izuku watches in horror as Todoroki only inclines his head at that. This— this isn’t right. Parents are supposed to love their kids. They aren’t some, some experiment for adults to toy with. Past the fear, past the shock and the horror, Izuku can feel anger stirring. Anger on behalf of his friend.

Endeavor turns and walks away from Todoroki, coincidentally, towards Izuku. Notice Me Not is still up, neither of them have seen him, and it’s in the few footsteps of distance between Izuku and the pro hero that he makes a decision. It’s stupid, monumentally so, and on any other day, Izuku wouldn’t have even thought to dare it. But Todoroki’s his friend, and number two or not, Endeavor referred to his own son like he’s subhuman. It’s that thought that allows him to do what he does next. 

Pressing himself against the wall, Izuku waits until Endeavor is close enough. Then, with absolutely no one to witness it, Izuku juts his leg out and trips the number two hero in Japan. The man lets out a confused yell, then promptly falls down and acquaints his face with the tile floor. The sound of cartilage crunching makes Izuku wince, but not regret what he just did. 

Looking up, Izuku spots Todoroki staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. Very, very slowly, Izuku brings his finger up to his lips in the universal “hush” gesture. Todoroki pauses, then nods. While Endeavor’s still picking himself up, Izuku hops over him and hurries past the corner to reactivate Notice Me Not. With the pro hero cursing behind him, Izuku books it to the break room and tries his best not to giggle hysterically. 

Because for the briefest of moments, Todoroki looked ready to laugh.

Chapter Text

Shouto is in a state of shock. His father is on the floor in front of him, nursing a broken nose and cursing. He can only focus on two things: the blood on the tile, and the place where Midoriya Izuku vanished from sight.

He doesn’t know how Midoriya did it, he just...materialized out of nowhere, his leg extended, and then Endeavor was on the floor. Midoriya is shy on a good day, so the look of pure, vindictive satisfaction on his face in that moment creates some cognitive dissonance in Shouto’s head. Then Midoriya looks up, makes direct eye contact — something Shouto has only seen him do a handful of times, all to people that aren’t him — and presses his finger against his lips. The absurdity of the moment slams into Shouto, making his lips quirk up on their own. He almost forgot what laughter felt like, but now it tickles the back of his throat, requiring every bit of self control to be contained.

Shouto walks away from Endeavor, heading to the field. Sitting around in the break room won’t do him any good, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to keep a straight face if he looks at Midoriya right now. He pauses at the entrance, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. Only when he’s sure no one is around does he dare to smile.

Midoriya just made away like a bandit with Endeavor’s pride. Shouto feels the laughter bubbling up again, this time he doesn’t stop it. His chest stutters and his shoulders shake as he tries to keep as quiet as he can. It’s just so ridiculous. One of the shyest people Shouto has ever met just tripped the number two hero in Japan. He feels like he’s in an alternate reality.

He does eventually calm down, but by the time the last laugh dies, he’s due to the arena. Shouto finds himself looking forwards to seeing Midoriya fight. If it’s anything like what he did with Endeavor, it’ll certainly be worth watching.

——

If running away from the League of Villain’s base had Izuku saying “holy shit” on repeat in his head, running away from a pro hero whom he just tripped has him screaming “fuck” in an infinite loop. He loses five years of his life in the distance between where he left Endeavor on the floor and the break room. He loses an additional one when he rounds the corner and almost bumps into someone. “Sorry! Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was—“

“Jeez, brat.” A familiar old voice grumbles, “Yer not even channeling one for all right now, what’s got you running like that?” Gran Torino crosses his arms in front of Izuku, looking past him for some sort of hellbeast on his tail.

“Uh…” Gran raises an eyebrow, Izuku gulps, “I...may or may not have tripped someone.”

Gran blinks, “Who?”

Izuku’s voice is small, barely heard over the humming of the AC vent above their heads. “…Endeavor.”

Gran picks his ear, “Speak up, brat, I can’t hear you mumbling like that.”

This time, Izuku’s voice is loud enough to echo down the hall. “Endeavor.” He closes his eyes, anticipating an onslaught of reprimands. Three seconds pass, and when nothing happens, he cracks his eyes open. What he sees is nowhere near what he expects.

Gran’s propping himself against the wall, covering his mouth with a hand as his shoulders shake. Hunched over like this, he’s even smaller than he already is, though you’ll never hear Izuku say that aloud. For a quick second, he thinks Gran’s having some sort of stroke, but then he realizes what happening. Gran Torino is laughing. Laughing. Izuku’s never seen him lose it like this and it is honesty scaring him. He stands there like an idiot, having no idea how to react. “Er…Gran Torino?”

“Holy— holy hell, kid.” Gran finally manages, “I didn’t think you had it in ya, I haven’t had a good laugh like that in years.”

“You’re…not mad?”

“Mad? I taught that arrogant upstart when he was in high school! If I could, I’d give you a medal!”

This...isn’t going the way Izuku thought it would, though that’s probably a good thing. He chooses to change the subject rather than dwell on it. “I, uh, All Might said you wouldn’t be able to come.”

“That’s Toshi for you.” Gran harrumphs, “Thinking something like a doctor’s appointment would keep me from seeing his student perform in the festival.”

“Doctor’s appointment? Isn’t that important?”

Gran levels him with a stare and a dangerous tone, “You trying to make a crack about my age?”

Izuku yelps and holds his hands up. “N-no, not at all! It’s just— For someone like you—“ oh man, this hole is getting deeper by the second. “I’m just gonna shut up now.”

Gran pats his arm, “You’re fine, I was just messing with ya. Can’t get too wound up, that’s when you’ll start making mistakes. Though,” he flashes a devilish grin, “if you trip assholes when you’re stressed out, maybe I should start working you harder.” He turns around, walking off and leaving Izuku standing there in shock. He pauses at the end of the hall, raising his eyebrows, “Well?”

Izuku jerks into motion like he’s electrocuted and hurries after Gran Torino. He keeps quiet until they reach the stands. “Am I even allowed here?” He asks, staring at the crowd of heroes sitting together. Notice Me Not thrums in his chest, itching to hide him.

Gran shrugs, “If the student is with UA faculty, they’re allowed to sit wherever. I may be retired from fieldwork and teaching, but I still do some things for them.”

Izuku wisely decides not to comment on that and takes his seat, trying not to freak out at how many heroes he recognizes within a twenty foot radius. He just has to keep it cool and focus on the arena. He can do that…maybe.

A horn blares across the field, signaling the beginning of the third event. Present Mic’s voice comes in over the speakers, “Welcome back, ladies and gents! In a few moments, the match between Shinsou Hitoshi and Todoroki Shouto will start! I can feel the tensions just burning up, yo!”

From this distance, Todoroki looks like a miniature version of himself, walking across the field. There’s a flash of surprise when Izuku looks at Todoroki’s opponent and recognizes him as the kid who’d glared at him for no apparent reason. Unease stirs in him as the two stand across from one another.

“The first match of the first-year sports festival begins...now!!”

There are cameras displaying the fight on the big screen. Shinsou seems to say something, but the microphones can’t pick it up. Yet Izuku can see how it makes Todoroki stiffen ever so slightly. Trash talking Todoroki...might not be the smartest idea, and when he sees frost crackling over his classmate’s skin he prays that Shinsou won’t get frostbitten too badly.

And then suddenly, there’s a glacier where the concrete arena used to be. Izuku stares in mounting awe and fear at the chunk of ice big enough to cover the entire area of the field. Shinsou is pinned against the stadium wall, frozen in place with icy bonds. There’s a moment of silence before the cheers begin.

“Incredible!” Present Mic screams, “With a single devastating attack, Todoroki Shouto has both pinned and forced his opponent out of the ring!”

Todoroki doesn’t stick around for the commentary, vanishing into the gateway without so much as looking back. Where he’s going Izuku can’t hope to guess, but he knows it isn’t to the break room.

Gran whistles next to him, “Man, kid’s got skill to dole out that much ice and not hurt anyone.” he glances at Izuku, “You might have to go against him.”

Logically, Izuku knows that, but the expression he saw on Todoroki’s face before he left...it makes the smaller part of him want to run and hide. Todoroki’s always been, pardon the pun, cool-headed. Seeing him freeze someone else to the wall, seeing the anger flashing in his eyes for all of an instant, it scares him, but beyond that, it worries him.

The moment the fight’s over, a handful of heroes are put to work releasing Shinsou and getting rid of the ice. With Thirteen mostly recovered, it’s quick work.

Izuku’s still looking at where Todoroki exited. “Gran Torino?”

“Hm?”

He forces himself to keep his voice steady, “If you run into Todoroki, can you make sure he’s alright? I’d—I’d go look for him, but my match is up soon and—”

“Calm down, kid.” Gran stands up with a grunt, “I can’t promise I’ll find him, though.”

“Check the less crowded areas.” Izuku suggests. They walk together until they reach the staircase, “Thank you for this, Gran Torino.”

“Eh,” Gran waves it off, “It’s nothing.

“I guess you’re not as scary as I thought.”

“What was that?”

Crap. “Nothing!” he eeps, taking the stairs down two at a time. “Bye!” he can hear Gran’s grumbling echo behind him.

He reaches the break rooms within five minutes. A little out of breath, he opens the door and slips in as quietly as he can. No one sees him, Notice Me Not ensures that, and he takes a seat to wait with bated breath. There’s a tv in the corner, showing live feed from the arena. He watches as Kaminari and Uraraka enter the field.

Kaminari has the advantage of long distance attacks, but since Izuku’s been a fly on the wall at least fifty percent of the time he’s in class, he knows Kaminari won’t take Uraraka seriously because she’s a girl. That’s a mistake she’ll capitalize on, and Izuku’s both eager and worried to see how this turns out. Still, it’s better than focusing on the fact that he’s up next.

Present Mic starts the fight. Kaminari smirks as electricity begins to crackle around him. The floor glows yellow, and any other fight, it might have worked, but since Uraraka’s shoes have rubber soles, it’s rendered a useless attempt. He changes tactics, trying to aim a few blasts of electricity, but he’s never used his Quirk for precision, he only wastes more power. It’s after the third shot that Uraraka makes her move.

She tears down the distance between them with a frightening speed. Izuku almost cheers when Uraraka uses her Quirk on herself to vault over the arc of incoming static, landing behind Kaminari and reaching for the back of his neck. Kaminari can’t react in time. Gravity gives up on him and he’s being tossed out of the ring with the exact move Izuku used on Bakugou in the second event. At most, the match lasts two minutes, and Izuku feels a small amount of guilty satisfaction when Uraraka is declared the winner, watching her victorious, if competitive, smile through the screen. Satisfaction is replaced with dread once he remembers he’s up next. As quietly as he came, he leaves.

The walk to the arena feels like he’s walking to his own execution. Thousands of eyes trained on him as he fights someone who’s very presence puts him on edge. Great. Wonderful.

Izuku’s going to be lucky if his heartbeat doesn’t break the sound barrier.

“Midoriya!”

Izuku almost leaps out of his skin when Uraraka shoves herself into his line of sight. “U-Uraraka! You scared me!”

“Sorry, sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry at all, “But man, did you see that fight? I was like ‘pow!’ and he was like ‘ah!’,” she clenches her fist in front of her, “oh man, it felt so good to put his sexist ass in place.”

“Y-yeah, that was...pretty cool.” If only he could have Uraraka’s confidence, it would get rid of half his problems. Alas, he’s still him, shitty confidence and all.

Uraraka frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re a horrible liar, Midoriya.” she pulls them to the side of the hallway, “Come on, you can tell me. Are you nervous?”

Izuku doesn’t think he can answer without his voice cracking, so he nods. The buzz of Notice Me Not reaches a crescendo, urging him to hide away, but Uraraka won’t let him go without at least trying to help. He’s...never had someone besides mom ask what was wrong. “Monoma...reminds me of Bakugou.”

Uraraka pauses, “Yeah,” she admits, “I can see that. But you know what? You sent Bakugou flying in the second round, what’s stopping you from kicking Monoma’s ass?”

“Crippling anxiety?”

She bites her lip, trying to figure out what to say. “Well, sometimes you just gotta kick that to the curb and do it anyways.” She pats his shoulder with a smile, “It’s hard, but once you do it, you’re gonna be unstoppable. I mean, can’t you pick up half of the class?”

“Hypothetcally,” Izuku murmurs, “I’ve never actually tried it.”

“We can do that later, after you’ve kicked Monoma six ways to Sunday.” She gives him a million watt smile, “You’ve got this. I’ll be cheering you on from the stands, m’kay?”

Izuku nods slowly, “I’ll try.” he can feel the embers of his resolve rekindle with her encouragement. “Thanks, Uraraka.”

“That’s what friends are for, Midoriya.” She starts to walk off, waving him an enthusiastic goodbye. “See you after the match! Kick his ass!”

Izuku really, really doesn’t know what he did to get a friend like Uraraka. When he turns to face the field entrance, he feels just a little more confident, and that confidence makes all the difference as he spots Monoma already standing in the arena.

“He’s just a bully.” Izuku reminds himself, stepping out into the open and facing the cheering crowd. “And bullies always underestimate you.” Now if only he could keep his hands from shaking.

Monoma feigns a yawn as Izuku steps into the ring. “So, the coward chooses to show his face. I honestly thought you would run.” He grows even more smug, “Now everyone will see just how superior 1-B is.”

Izuku can’t say anything lest he lose whatever nerve he’s scrounged up. He bends over, touching his toes and counting to ten. When that’s done, he shifts his weight to the ball of his left foot, dropping down and stretching the inside of his thighs. It’s almost effortless for him to shift into analysis, mapping out what he does and doesn't know, and how he can use that to his favor.

He hadn’t been paying attention to Monoma in the first or second challenges, which might have been a mistake. Izuku has no idea what his Quirk could be. Definitely something offensive, the practical part of the entrance exams tends to be biased towards those, but beyond that he doesn’t have a clue. Monoma has a definite tendency to monologue, maybe Izuku can gather some information from that? One problem with that plan: Izuku doesnt think he could open his mouth if he tried, his jaw is locked from either anticipation or anxiety. Firsthand experience is the only way.

“Ladies and gents, are you ready to see these two duke it out?” The crowd reaches a fever pitch, Izuku almost flinches at the sudden increase in sound. “Wonderful! Contestants, your fight begins NOW!”

Go time. Izuku takes a breath, closing his eyes and opening them when he exhales. Two percent of One for All will be enough to have a distinct advantage, but until he knows what Monoma can do, it’d be best to employ hit-and-run tactics. Two percent, he decides, will be his baseline for the fight. Moving in to attack and getting out of range will be bursts of four percent, hopefully leaving Monoma without a chance to react.

If Izuku rushes at Monoma without knowing what he’s getting into, this fight could go sideways fast, so he just...stands there. To Monoma, he probably looks nonchalant, but inside he already has One for All buzzing at a steady one percent. Wait, he reminds himself, let Monoma make the first move. He’ll get careless. Lord knows Izuku himself has done that enough times against Gran Torino.

Monoma’s smug grin is slowly replaced by a befuddled scowl the longer Izuku waits. “Don’t tell me you’re too scared.what’s wrong? I thought your little airhead friend would’ve lied to you and said you could win.” His face goes slack as he makes a leap in logic Izuku can’t hope to recreate. “I get it, you dont think I’m even worth the effort, huh?”

Well, Izuku certainly doesn't need to worry about riling Monoma up, he’s doing a great job of it himself. Izuku keeps his face blank, biting the tip of his tongue in anticipation. One for all starts to pick up, his ears filling with a low pitched buzz.

Monoma yells something along the lines of “I’ll show you!” And rushes in, just how Izuku wanted. His nerves make his hold over One for All slip a bit, when he takes off he leaves cracks in the concrete. He zips past Monoma and whirls around to kick at the back of his knees. Monoma drops, but catches himself before he can hit the ground. He turns, reaching his hand out as it starts to crackle with...explosions? It doesn't matter, Izuku’s already across the arena, out of harm’s way while his mind goes a mile a minute.

What are the odds of two people having the same Quirk? Incredibly improbable. Even then, if Monoma’s had explosions this entire time, he wouldn’t have had a problem getting into 1-A. Which means this isn’t his real Quirk, possibly a result of it?

“Look familiar?” Monoma asks, “It should, I got it off of your loudmouth classmate earlier.”

Izuku goes still, “A Quirk that can copy other Quirks.” He whispers.

“So you do speak!” Monoma laughs, “That’s right, stutters, one touch and I can copy anyone’s Quirk.”

And a basic subconscious understanding of how to use it, Izuku assumes, otherwise Monoma wouldn’t have been able to ignite his palms at all. Things just got a lot more dangerous for the both of them. Even at four percent, One for All takes a lot out of Izuku, what would it do to Monoma, who wouldn’t know how to dilute its power? It’d be the USJ all over again, only instead of Izuku crushing his limbs, it’ll be someone else.

Yet at the same time, the fight just got easier. Izuku knows Bakugou’s Quirk almost as well as Notice Me Not. Izuku can win this, he just has to be quick about it.

Step one: poke the bear.

It’s not nearly as hard as he expects it to be. Monoma’s comment about Uraraka earlier already has him mad enough to bypass the anxiety, he just channels his inner Bakugou and opens his mouth. “So let me get this straight. You gave me hell because you thought I was relying on other people to succeed while you literally use other people’s Quirks? Pot, meet kettle.”

Monoma blinks at the sudden change in attitude, spluttering “What did you just say?”

Izuku’s shaky smirk becomes borderline maniacal, “Did Bakugou’s Quirk already make you go deaf? I called you a big, fat hypocrite!”

Monoma straight up stares at him, truly lost for words. Apparently, Izuku is loud enough for his voice to pick up over the microphones, because he swears he can hear Uraraka yelling from the stands.

Now to drive it home. “In fact,” Izuku folds his arms behind his back, “you’re so weak, I could beat you with both hands behind my back.”

Mission accomplished. Monoma is now a brilliant shade of indignant red, “You—“ he charges in headfirst, hands outstretched. Izuku charges one for all, tenses his legs, and hops clean over him. Izuku can feel his stomach drop as he starts to slow down, but an unseen benefit to working with Uraraka last round is that he knows how to control his fall. The shock from landing makes his shins twinge in pain, he ignores it and pivots, using a move Gran taught him and placing a solid kick between Monoma’s shoulder blades. It’s a tad clumsy, his weight is thrown off without his hands in front of him, but it gets the job done.

“You—!” Monoma tries to repeat what he did before, palms sparking with his anger, but Izuku’s already gone, darted off to the edge of the ring.

It’s amazing how much adrenaline can loosen Izuku’s mouth. “C-come on, I know you can do better than that.”

Monoma’s smarter about his approach this time, coming in slowly and warily. Izuku keeps his promise and continues to hold his hands behind his back,

Second lesson he learned from Gran: always let your opponent come to you, not the other way around. The first lesson was to keep his eyes on the torso instead of their face, much better predictive ability that way. Gran’s teachings hold true, Izuku can see the punch coming a mile away. He side steps, but when he moves to kick, his foot meets unexpected resistance. Solidified air? Must be one of his classmate’s Quirks. The implication of it is intriguing, air is a gas because it’s atoms are scattered around, if it were to solidify, it would be denser than the air around it and fall, so how is it floating—?

Izuku narrowly dodges an explosion to the face. Nerd out about Quirks later, fight now. He decides, backpedalling to a safer distance. Solidified air and explosions, there’s gotta be some kind of weakness to Monoma’s Quirk besides lacking skill with the Quirk he copies. Maybe some sort of time limit? No way to tell until Monoma reaches it, and Izuku can’t afford that kind of time.

At the very least, Izuku understands this: if something is solid, with enough force, it can be broken through. Izuku hides his smile and readjusts his stance.

Monoma approaches once again. This time, Izuku is the one to move first. He aims his kick for the solar plexus, powering up to four percent and shattering Monoma’s air shield on impact. Izuku can’t help his wince of sympathy when Monoma reels back with a wheeze, clutching at his chest in surprise. Either way, it doesn’t stop him from rushing in to attempt a spinning roundhouse. He turns off One for All completely as to not risk giving Monoma a concussion, color him surprised when Monoma blocks at just the right time, and color him shocked when pain shoots through his foot.

“Surprised?” Monoma bites out past a snarl. His arm resembles Kirishima’s now, hardened to the point of steel. Izuku leaps back before Monoma can touch him. “That was a neat trick. But it’ll take more than that to take me down.”

Izuku winces when he puts pressure on his leg. He’s gone and done it now, potentially fracturing his foot in an attempt to end this quickly. Yet the pain of a few hairline cracks is nothing, not when he’s so familiar with what complete obliteration of his bones feels like. Still, Recovery Girl isn’t going to be happy…he decides he’ll cross that bridge later.

Kirishima’s Quirk simply makes his body harder, it doesn’t absorb force. Recoil, Izuku can use that. Question is, how many more kicks can he get out of his foot before he risks breaking it.

Izuku’s slip up makes Monoma more confident, it gives him the bravado to rush forwards again, his arms crossed and hardened. A One for All charged push lets Izuku evade, and when Monoma tires to follow, Izuku lashes out with a kick to his head. As expected, Monoma moves his arm to block it, but he doesn't anticipate the force behind the kick.

Izuku doesn't pay attention to the splash of blood that splatters the concrete floor, he’s already going in for a second kick. Monoma goes flying as he takes a front kick to the chest. Izuku stands there, waiting for Monoma to get up.

“You…” Monoma presses a hand on his forehead, staring when it comes back covered in blood.

Izuku feels bad about doing it, he really does, but it’s Monoma’s fault to assume the Quirks he copied couldn’t be used against him. He wasn’t fast enough to harden his face. In a real fight, he’d be as good as dead right now. Recovery Girl can heal that after the fight. She’s certainly healed worse.

Monoma’s still standing there, staring at his hand. Then, he starts to laugh. “You finally slipped up, Midoriya!” He stands up, electricity starts to move up and down his arm.

Izuku stares at those familiar sparks, dread and horror rising like the bile in his throat. “...Monoma,” He says very, very slowly, “think about what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I am.” He assures, grin growing wider by the passing second, “All this time, I’ve been wondering why, why you got in when I didn’t. Gotta admit though,” he looks at his sparking arm, “With this kinda firepower, Yuuei would take in anyone, even a stuttering mess like you.”

If Monoma keeps his arm charged up like that, it’s going to explode. “Monoma, I trained months to keep that Quirk from mutilating me.” Izuku tries desperately to reason, “You haven’t even had it for a minute, what do you think that will do to you?”

For a moment, Izuku can see the hesitation in Monoma’s eyes, but it’s snuffed out by his pride. He drops into a fighting stance, an unbearable smirk on his face. His arm raises to throw a punch.

“Monoma, please!” Izuku yells so loud he can feel his throat sting, “Don’t!”

The punch is thrown.

Izuku doesn't know what to do. There’s no time to run, no time to hide, all he can do is hunker down and pray for the best. So he powers up to six percent and ignores the ache in his bones as he buries his feet into the concrete. He crouches as low as he can, reducing surface area as the wind blasts him without mercy. He can feel shards of concrete digging into his lower calves, he grits his teeth and weathers it.

The wind is gone as fast as it came, and when Izuku looks up, Monoma is gone, sent out of bounds by the recoil of his own attack. There’s a small crater where he hit the stadium wall, it looks like the kind of cracks you’d see on an eggshell. It’s one thing seeing his own bones turned to paste, seeing someone else broken by One For All makes him want to vomit. Monoma should count himself lucky he passed out, he doesn’t have the same pain tolerance Izuku does.

It’s still quiet. The crowd doesn't dare to say a word in the aftermath of such a blast. It’s only when Present Mic announces Izuku’s victory that they cheer. Izuku doesn’t hear any of it, he’s still staring at the crumpled form of his opponent.

Monoma’s an ass, Izuku isn’t going to deny that. He’s been nothing but a kid-mouthed bully all day, but...he didn’t deserve that. Pulling his feet out of the concrete shoves a few shards into his leg, Izuku ignores it and walks.

He stands over Monoma’s unconscious body. “I tried.” He says, voice cracking, “I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen.” He crouches down, gathering Monoma into his arms. It’s a bit of a challenge, finding a position that doesn’t jostle the broken arm too much, but Izuku finds it and walks to the gate. He can see Recovery Girl waiting for him, a small frown on her face.

“That was a very reckless move, young man.” She tells him as he sets Monoma down. A quick smooch and the bones in his arm begin to reform. Izuku feels marginally better seeing it heal. “You sit yourself down, honey, I need to remove those shards before I heal you.”

Oh yeah, Izuku looks down at his legs, at the little bits of concrete stuck in his legs and the blood slowly leaking from around them, he forgot all about that.

Izuku follows Recovery Girl's Instructions while she procures pliers from somewhere. She takes his leg into her hand and starts carefully removing shards. “I believe this is the most benign thing I’ve had to heal you for.” She tells him with a rueful smile. Izuku smiles back guiltily.

She pulls out the last shard and stands up. “That’s all for now,” she says, kissing him on the forehead. “Try not to hurt yourself too badly in your next fight. I’ll be very disappointed if I have to see you twice in the same day.”

“Yes ma’am.” Izuku says, knowing full well he’s lying through his teeth. Either way, she accepts it and tells him to head to the break room. He gets up, but has no intention of going to the break room. He just...needs some alone time right now.

There’s a utility closet coming up on his right, he slides down next to it and closes his eyes. He’s tired, not tired enough for him to try and take a nap, but still. Physical strain from One for All and whatever the hell he’s feeling about seeing Monoma like that has him drained. He covers his face with his arms, closing his eyes and counting his breaths.

“Well, this is unexpected.”

Izuku sighs, smiling ruefully to himself, “Sorry, were you going to sit here, too?” He looks up and is surprised to see the teen Todoroki froze in his latest match. “Shinsou, right?”

“I thought you had a stutter.” Shinsou says, staring down at Izuku like he can’t decide whether he’s interesting or something that’s personally offended him. Izuku’s familiar with the expression.

“Too tired to be nervous.” Izuku replies, running a hand through his bangs.

Shinsou considers it, then nods. “Yeah, I get that.” He sits down next to Izuku and rests the back of his head against the wall. “That’s some Quirk you’ve got, if it messed that asshole up so bad.”

“What happened to him was the best case scenario.”

“Really? What’s the worst case?”

Izuku’s voice shrinks, “...dismemberment.”

He can feel how Shinsou stares at him. “Well damn.” He says after a lengthy pause, “How the hell are you in one piece, then?”

“Hard work and high pain tolerance.” Izuku informs him. “What about you? I didn’t get to see you use your Quirk against Todoroki. If you got this far into the festival, it’s gotta be something interesting.”

“Interesting.” Shinsou scoffs, “That’s a word for it, I guess. It’s brainwashing. The moment you verbally respond to me, I can make you do whatever I want.”

“Oh, cool.”

Shinsou’s eyebrows go up, “Cool? I just told you I could control your mind and you just go with ‘cool’?”

Izuku shrugs, making the universal “I don’t know” sound in his throat. “What were you expecting?”

“I don't know,” Shinsou purses his lips, “fear? Most people would say my Quirk is perfect for villainy.”

There’s definitely more to unpack there, but Izuku decided to set that can of worms aside for another day. “I’m a late bloomer.” He says, the lie coats his tongue with a bitter aftertaste. “I only developed my Quirk a few months ago. Before that, everyone would make fun of me for being Quirkless.” That was the payoff for hiding Notice Me Not. He thinks of every time Bakugou and his goons walked right past him as he clapped his hands over his mouth, too frightened to breathe. He shakes his head solemnly, “People are mean. They’ll find any reason at all to pick on someone else, especially if they’re different.” It’s easier when there’s something obvious to mock, something that stands out, be it what they think is a villainous Quirk or no Quirk at all.

The silence after that is long, long enough to start toeing the painful category. “Guess I never thought of it like that.” Shinsou admits, “you know, I usually hate people with strong Quirks like you. But you’re actually not terrible.”

“Thanks.” Izuku says, dry as a desert. they both share a look, and then a smile. Izuku startles when he hears Present Mic’s voice come in over the speakers.

“And that wraps up the first round of the third challenge! Now, in fifteen minutes, the second round will begin! First up: Todoroki Shouto and Midoriya Izuku!”

Well, today just loved throwing curveballs, huh? Izuku covers his face with his arms, letting out an “aaaaa” sound that continues through the rest of the fight announcements.

“Man,” Shinsou comments, “gotta say, I don’t envy you at all right now.”

“Is melting into the floor an option?” Izuku asks his calves, “I feel like it should be an option.”

“‘Fraid not.”

“Damn.” He should probably get going now. Uraraka might actually hunt him down if he doesn’t. “Well,” He grunts as he stands up, feeling one or two vertebrae crack as he stretches. “Well, it’s been nice talking to you. And…for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a villain at all.”

Shinsou stares up at him with wide eyes before the expression is replaced by a small smirk. “Whatever. Pop Todoroki in the jaw once for me. Don’t lose a limb doing it though, got it?”

Izuku laughs, it’s very freeing. “No promises.”

Chapter Text

Shouto never goes back to the break room. After the fight finishes, when ice burns his veins and anger heats his breath, he finds the most secluded hallway he can and leans against the wall. Leans, because it’s far less vulnerable than sitting down should anyone walk by. 

Shinsou Hitoshi, class 1-C. A scrawny teen  who shouldn’t have been able to get under Shouto’s skin like he did. The anger flares up all over again at the memory of the fight. 

Shouto’s not some emotionless...thing, okay? Even if it would make life easier, he feels things like sadness, anger, love. But in that moment between what Shinsou said and Shouto freezing him, it hurt. The words are intangible things and yet he feels them digging under his skin, pricking old wounds.

Footsteps echo down the hall. Shouto doesn’t look until they stop and an elderly man speaks.

“Well, the kid wasn’t wrong about secluded places...” 

Shouto doesn’t have a clue as to what he means. The old man standing at the end of the hall is short in stature, with gray hair and frown lines that make his wrinkles all the deeper. He reminds Shouto of his grandfather. His throat still feels tight, he straightens up and nods respectfully anyways. “Hello, is there something I can help you with?”

“Bah, kids these days.” The man grumbles, Shouto swears he’s seen him before, “You know Midoriya, right? It sounded like it, the way he was talking ‘bout you, but that kid’s got too much empathy to be sure.”

“...Yes, I do know Midoriya.” 

“Good. Kd sent me after you, said to make sure you were alright.” The man looks him up and down, focusing on the frost covering his arm, “Looks like he was right to worry. Side effect of your Quirk?” He doesn’t wait for Shouto to answer, “We’re gonna find you a blanket, or something, before you turn into a popsicle. I think I saw a hot drink stand near the concession area...” the man starts grumbling to himself. Then, as an afterthought, “The name’s Gran Torino, by the way. Now come on, before you get sick.”

A bit dazed at how fast this is happening, Shouto does as he’s told. Yet there’s a question that’s eating him up inside, “Why did Midoriya ask you to look for me?”

“Hm?” Gran looks at him, squinting his eyes. “Well, I can’t say I really understand that kid, but I imagine it’s because he was worried.”

Shouto scowls, “I don’t need any of his concern.”

Gran barks a laugh, “Kid, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Midoriya worries. A lot. I don’t think you can do anything that will stop him.”

Shouto concedes to the point and they finally reach the outskirts of the concession area. He spots a little stand touting a sign reading “Hot Chocolate”. “Is that the stand you were talking about?”

Gran perks up, “That’s the place, alright. What do you want in yours? Milk or water?”

Shouto’s lactose intolerant, he orders his with water. Gran gets his with milk. “How’s that right side of yours?” He asks as they walk back into the stadium, “Feeling any warmer?”

Shouto looks at the hand holding his hot cocoa, watching the ice recede. “Warmer than before.”

“That’s good.” Gran says, nodding to himself, “Enji had a hard time regulating his temperature at your age, too. Always had to have an bucket of water on hand when that lug went overboard.”

“You...know my father?”

“Know him? I taught that idiot for years!” Gran clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “Figures that hothead would forget about me.”

The entire stadium shakes around them. Shouto has to catch himself from stumbling, but Gran doesn’t look affected at all. If anything, he looks annoyed. 

“That kid. He went one hundred percent again, didn’t he? Chiyo’s gonna to have his head before he graduates.” He walks off, grumbling about seeing how bad it is this time. Shouto follows him out of curiosity. When they find a screen, they both stare. 

“Well hell.” Gran murmurs, watching Midoriya take his legs out of the concrete. “That kid who lost, he’s the one that can copy Quirks, right?” He curses when Shouto nods. “He’s damn lucky he didn’t get his limbs blown off.“

Taking in the scope of the destruction, Shouto’s inclined to agree. Remembering what Midoriya’s shattered limbs look like, he thinks it’s a miracle. Midoriya approaches the crumpled form of Monoma and lifts him. Shouto can see blood leaking from pieces of concrete in Midoriya’s legs. Pain tolerance would be a requirement, with a Quirk like that. Shouto sips his hot cocoa and ignores the strange feeling in his chest. 

“You look like you’re a little less frozen.” Gran observes, “That’s good, the second round’s about to be announced. I don’t think you’d do all that well half-frozen.”

“It would delay my reaction time.” Shouto agrees, finishing off his drink and tossing it into a nearby garbage can. He returns to Gran’s side just in time to hear his next fight matchup. 

Gran hisses through his teeth, “Oh boy, this fight’s going to be interesting, alright.“

“Midoriya’s fighting skills have improved a lot in the last month.” Shouto observes, “You’re the one who’s been training him?”

“Yeah. Toshi doesn’t know the first thing about being a teacher, so he called me in to help. It’s a small miracle Yuuei even hired him.”

Shouto doesn’t know who ‘Toshi’ is, but grunts in agreement all the same. “I should probably get going...thank you, for making sure I was okay.” He hates how he stumbles through the words. Gran doesn’t appear bothered by it though, so he doesn’t let it bother him, either. 

“Give it your all against Midoriya.” Is Gran’s last bit of wisdom to depart on Shouto, “Kid’s got it in his head to be first place. You have to come at him with one-hundred percent, got it?”

“Wouldn’t you want him to win?” Shouto can’t help but ask. 

“The kid does better when he has mistakes to learn from.” Gran says in return, “Now, don’t you have somewhere to be? Bad sportsmanship to make him wait.”

He’s right, of course, so Shouto gives a shallow bow before he turns and walks off. The two pro heroes stationed at the doors take one look at his face and don’t hesitate to let him in. When they think he can’t hear, they talk about the odds of seeing Endeavor’s kid. He scowls and keeps walking. 

He has five minutes before the fight, he spends them with his eyes closed and trying to organize his thoughts. Midoriya sent Gran Torino to find him, supposedly out of concern. He’s having a hard time understanding why. 

Shouto’s been ignoring him ever since the morning in the showers. Most of the time, that’s enough to drive people off. Yet Midoriya continues to find little ways to involve himself in Shouto’s life. The strange feeling is back again, making itself at home right above his stomach. He scowls and pushes off from the wall, heading out to the arena, where the source of his recent troubles is already standing. 

Midoriya flinches at the sudden cheer that arises when the crowd spots Shouto. His hands fidget with the hem of his gym uniform. Present Mic comes in over the speakers, hyping up the audience like he’s done with every other fight. 

Shouto counts himself surprised when Midoriya locks onto him and makes shaky eye contact. “D-did Gran Torino find you?” He deflates when Shouto nods, “Good. I w-was worried.”

That. That right there makes the feeling above his stomach ten times worse. “Why did you send him?” He doesn’t mean to say it, but he can’t take it back. 

Midoriya looks stricken at the question. “Y-you looked like you needed it.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity—“ 

“This isn’t the place to make friends, Midoriya. You’re an obstacle for me to get past, nothing more.” For whatever reason, Midoriya flinches. Good, maybe he’ll get the point and stay away.

Present Mic finally crackles in, “Ladies and gentlemen! The fight you’ve been waiting for starts...now!” 

——

Something‘s wrong. 

Izuku doesn’t claim to know Todoroki like the back of his hand, but he‘s familiar, okay? No matter what kind fo day he’s had, Todoroki’s eyes always held a little bit of life in them. It’s hard to spot sometimes, he tries to hide it, but Izuku always sees.

He can’t find any of that life when Todoroki looks at him now. It’s tucked away too far to spot. Todoroki‘s shut out his emotions, shutting out Izuku, too. 

Thing is, Izuku’s used to being pushed away. His entire childhood‘s filled with names and faces of people who, in another life, could have been his friends. He’s not sure why this time hurts the most. the ache of it tears at his heart and solidifies his resolve. It’s just like he said before, things are different now. Izuku’s not giving up like he did with all the others. 

Todoroki flings a wall of ice towards him the instant Mic starts the fight. Izuku’s had One for All running steady at three percent ever since Todoroki set foot in the arena, he sidesteps the incoming ice only to see Todoroki’s anticipated him. He scrambles to dodge the second blast. Some of the ice grazes his leg and he loses his breath at how it burns. Todoroki is coming at him with a one-track mind. If Izuku wants to win, he’s going to have to do the same.

But Todoroki needs help. He needs help and it’s agony for Izuku to put his concern on the back burner, but he’s not going to be any help if he gets frozen five minutes in.

It shouldn’t be like this. Izuku should have been more forward, hunted Todoroki down after class and demanded to know what was wrong. In the end, Izuku is just as much the coward he’d been before he received One for All and he /hates/ it. 

Todoroki hasn’t let up at all with his tactic of sending blast after blast of ice. In between dodging, Izuku plans. The main issue with Todoroki’s Quirk is that, while powerful, there’s a limit to how much cold the body can withstand. His biggest threat isn’t Izuku, it’s his inability to thermoregulate. 

There’s something more, something Izuku overheard earlier.

“I’ll win this without using your fire.”

If that’s true, if Todoroki really can use both ice and fire, he shouldn’t have any problem with frostbite. He‘s deliberately freezing himself. Why?

So now Izuku’s faced with a dilemma. He can win, or he can be a good friend. This might be the only time he’ll be able to get Todoroki to listen to him. He’s been avoiding Izuku ever since the showers and doing a hell of a job at it, too. This is the only time he won’t run. 

The answer’s easy enough.

“Todoroki!” Izuku yells as loud as he can manage, “You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“Why do you care? You’re my opponent.” Todoroki growls, blasting even more ice towards him. The arena’s last few patches of concrete are few and far between, and Izuku can reach none of those spots in time. He finds a relatively flat patch of ice to his right and makes a leap of faith.

Good news: Izuku’s sneakers can get some traction on the ice. 

Bad news: he can only keep said traction for a handful of seconds before he starts slipping. 

Izuku’s pretty sure he would’ve died right then and there if he fell on his butt on live television. He doesn’t, thank God, but he makes a very undignified yelp when he sees yet another ice wave heading towards him. There’s no time to react, no time to move. Izuku closes his eyes and hopes he won’t be stuck for too long. 

It’s the angle of the ice plateau he’s on that saves him from getting frozen. The sudden drop in temperature steals his breath, and it takes him a moment to register his new surroundings. Ice, nothing but ice to his left, right, and center. He’s standing in a snug little cavity with only a small gap above him for air.

Well then.

He’s really got a knack for getting into messes, huh? Everything’s muffled in this little impromptu igloo, Izuku can barely hear the crowd. For the first time since the tournament started he can feel the comforting hum of Notice Me Not.  

Izuku takes this moment to close his eyes, breathe in deep, and think. 

Theoretically, he could use six percent to get out of this, but Todoroki’s seen him use that. Todoroki is /expecting/ that. The only way Izuku’s gonna got close enough to really talk to him this is if he catches him by surprise. Izuku holds his hand out, feels it buzz with the full power of one for all, and hopes Gran won’t be too mad at him for what he’s about to do. 

Concrete is pretty interesting. It can expand and contract when exposed to heat or cold respectively. Todoroki’s been pretty liberal with his ice, Izuku’s just got to play it smart and work his angles. Pressing himself against the back of his little ice cavity, he aims his finger downwards and flicks. 

There’s a resounding crack. Izuku watches the ice shatter before him and ignores how his broken finger throbs. 

The sheer force of One for All, combined with Todoroki having frozen most of the concrete arena, has transformed the topography. Crevices mar the ground and splinters of ice lay everywhere. The plateau Izuku‘s standing on is still intact, but everything that stood in front of him is gone.  

Now that he has Todoroki’s attention, he tries again. “Todoroki! You have to use your fire!” It’s almost comical how fast Izuku has to dodge another ice attack. Still, he persists. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you—“

Todoroki launches another attack, Izuku has to cut himself off and use another finger to destroy the ice. Undeterred, he keeps talking, “At least tell me why!”

Todoroki snaps, “You already know why! You were there when I was talking to him!” 

“Don’t forget, you are my masterpiece, your only reason for being in this world is to surpass All Might.” 

Oh.

Shit.

Todoroki isn’t sending any more ice at him. They’re both rooted where they stand, Todoroki on one side of the arena and Izuku on the other. Todoroki’s breathing is starting to get heavy, frost covers his right cheek, it makes the red of his scar more vibrant — just like the heat from the showers all that time ago. 

God, his scar, does Izuku even want to hear how he got it now? Would Todoroki even tell him? He can only imagine how many bruises are under that uniform. 

The sheer wrongness of all this makes Izuku want to vomit. A parent is supposed to love their child, raise them and teach them with kindness. Mom never raised a hand to him, even after that robbery where he discovered Notice Me Not. Not once. Not ever. 

With that sick feeling comes the anger blooming in his chest and curling around his heart. Endeavor deserves worse than breaking his nose on a tile floor.

“Do you understand now?” Todoroki demands, “He can't surpass All Might, so he made someone who could. I refuse to use to be his means to an end."

“At the expense of hurting yourself?”

“Pain is temporary, Midoriya.” He looks down to Izuku’s bruised and broken fingers. “You of all people should know that.”

“This isn’t just about pain! Your Quirk isn’t temporary, Todoroki! It’s a part of you!” Izuku can’t imagine a life without Notice Me Not. It’s as natural as breathing. To refuse something so closely tied to your being... “You can’t deny something like that, Todoroki!”

“Endeavor—“

“Forget Endeavor!” Izuku bellows, “I wanna see what /you/ can do!” He bursts forward, eating up the distance between them. Todoroki puts up a wall of ice. Izuku shatters it without slowing down, breaking another finger. There’s no way for Todoroki to react in time before Izuku‘s right in front of him and sinking a fist into his stomach. Todoroki goes flying, hitting the concrete and rolling to a stop. When he stands up, he looks at Izuku like he’s something entirely foreign. 

“Come on!” Izuku demands, “If you want to beat me, you have to come at me with all you got! No more holding yourself back!”

“It’s yours! Your Quirk, not his!

——

Shouto can’t take his eyes off of Midoriya. He hadn’t expected him to break through the ice so easily, to pulverize his finger without hesitation. Thinking back to the USJ, perhaps he should have. 

Gone is the meek classmate Shouto thought he knew, in his place is a natural disaster given form. A one-man earthquake, shaking up everything Todoroki knew.

Your Quirk, not his.

The words are a gunshot, ricocheting through his head with deafening volume. 

Why? Why is he doing this? Doesn’t he understand that he’ll lose if he keeps it up?

How can this one person throw himself so recklessly into Shouto’s life and change it with a few words?

“Shouto, do you still want to be a hero?”

The words are a slap across the face. What...?

He remembers. Mom used to watch tv with him. Back when his face was unscarred and she was still there to comfort him. All Might was giving an interview. The host asked about his Quirk and he’d laughed it off with a big old grin. 

“A Quirk is what you make of it, regardless of your history.”

Shouto had been so happy hearing that. With mom at his side and All Might on the screen, Endeavor was a distant thought. One of the few childhood comforts he’d had.

 “Shouto,” mom had whispered, “do you still want to be a hero?” She cupped his head with a cool hand, “You can be anything you want, honey. Your bloodline doesn’t matter. It’s—“ her breath hitches, “it’s okay to use your power. To become who you want to be.”

Does Shouto know who he wants to be? Has he ever? His entire life has been a series of moments and reminders of Endeavor’s plans, Endeavor’s expectations. Endeavor’s, Endeavor’s, Endeavor’s. Has Shouto ever had something of his own?

These last few weeks...he has. Flustered smiles. Doodles and scribbles of the whole class. A cat purring against his leg. Sitting with classmates at lunch. Passing notes in class. 

A friend.

“It’s okay—“

“—What you make of it—“

“—bloodline doesn’t matter—“

“—It’s okay—“

“—your power—“

“—regardless—“

“—It’s—“

“—Your Quirk, not his!” 

And his world goes up in flames.

It’s a blaze of heat and light. He falters at the strength of it. The arena is cast in fiery red. The crowd is louder than ever before but Shouto can only focus on what’s in front of him: Midoriya glowing with firelight and looking at him in awe. There are so many emotions in that smile, pride and pain and relief and anxiety. It’s such a patented Midoriya expression, Shouto’s smiling before he realizes it. 

He was serious about not pitying Shouto, wasn’t he? The shower, Gran Torino, right this moment, those were all done out of concern. Yet all Shouto could give back was anger and hurtful words. He’s...been horrible to Midoriya, and still his classmate refuses to leave him alone. Has he burned at his bridge by keeping Midoriya at bay? No, there’s one thing he can do. It wont fix everything, but it is a start. 

Ice crackles at his right while fire burns away at his left. He can feel it building up, reaching a tipping point. He doesn’t know if Midoriya gets what he’s trying to convey, but electricity starts racing up his arm again. It’s something, Shouto supposes.

They attack at the same time, Shouto launching pillars of ice and spears of fire while Midoriya flies towards him, dauntless as he’s ever been. 

Concrete walls rise between them and the resulting explosion is deafening. 

——

It’s kinda funny how often Izuku finds himself on the floor with broken bones. He would laugh, but his ribs are definitely bruised and breathing is a bit hard right now. The sky looks nice, at least. 

He can’t really remember what happened when his and Todoroki’s attacks collided. There was definitely some interference from Cementoss, and he does remember being launched backwards, but beyond that, nothing. 

Izuku can hear Present Mic announcing he’s been knocked out of bounds. He has some mixed feelings about that. He really wanted to win, but helping Todoroki was more important. Helping people will always be more important. 

Still stings though. 

Izuku lays where he is and keeps staring up at the sky. The crowd is near silent when he’s this close to the ground, though that might be because of the rubble around him absorbing everything. 

Then someone goes and gets in the way of a sunbeam he’d been enjoying. Cracking open an eye, he looks up at Todoroki’s looming figure. It’s so similar to the first event Izuku can’t help but smile. Then he registers that Todoroki is essentially half naked and looks away. 

“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out. “I’ll walk you to Recovery Girl.”

Izuku takes Todoroki’s hand, wincing when his broken arm jostles as he’s hauled up. They shuffle off to the exit, Todoroki hovering next to Izuku with an expression he can’t quite read. It’s lightyears better than the cold and distant look he’d worn during their fight. 

Speaking of, “Freezing the air and then heating it to make an explosion, that was genius, Todoroki.” He doesn’t respond at first, Izuku hurries to do damage control, “I mean, it was—“

“Breaking your finger to shatter the ice was a smart move, too.”

Oh good, Izuku hasn’t messed up their fledgeling...whatever it was. “Yeah.” He laughs, shaking from pain and draining adrenaline, “Gran Torino’s gonna kill me.”

“Unlikely.” Todoroki says, “He wouldn’t have time to hide the body.”

His ribs are still bruised, he shouldn’t laugh as hard as he does. Ow. “He’s...faster than he looks.”

“Well at least I’ll know who to point the police to.”

The ensuing quiet isn’t as companionable as it was before, but it’s leagues better than  the frostbitten silence last few days and Izuku feels like crying in relief about that alone. So yeah, he may have lost, but he’s definitely chalking this up as a win. 

Now if only he could find a way to avoid the looming demise waiting for him in the form of Recovery Girl. Todoroki ends up holding the door for him, leaving Izuku to take the full force of her disappointed stare. 

“I-in my defense,” oh man, he started this out with a stutter, he’s already a foot in the grave. Recovery Girl raises her eyebrows and Izuku crumbles, “I...can’t think of anything.”

“Thought so. Take a seat, dearie, I’ll see what I can do for that arm.”

“His ribs are hurt, too.” Todoroki says behind him. “I saw him flinch when he laughed.”

Betrayal. Izuku melts onto the medical bed in shame at her disappointed, but not surprised face. “I was going to get to that.”

“You have a habit of downplaying injuries, Midoriya. I’m making sure she knows what she needs to fix.”

Recovery Girl pats Todoroki’s arm. “Thank you sweetie. That’s very considerate. You’re lucky to have such a good friend, Midoriya.” 

“...Yeah, I am.” 

Todoroki shifts from one foot to the other. “I should probably go.“ he turns to Izuku, hesitating, “Do you...want to have lunch tomorrow?” 

Izuku feels like his smile is going to split his face open. “Yeah! I’ll be, ah, looking forward to it!” His cheeks are warm, is that normal? Oh god, Todoroki’s gonna think he’s weird, isn’t he? Better end it with something else. “Give it your all in the finals!” Fuck that sounded so much worse.

But Todoroki just nods his head and ducks out of the room. For his own sake, Izuku decides to take it as a good sign and resigns himself to Recovery Girl’s care. 

“Now I can’t heal all of this n one go,” she warns him as she pulls out a familiar arm sling and some snacks. “I have half the mind to just let you heal the rest naturally, if it’d keep you in once piece longer.” She gives him a big smack on the cheek and hands him an already peeled orange. 

His arm is snug in the sling when someone knocks at the door. Izuku perks up when Shinsou walks in, “What are you doing here?” Ah crap, that sounded rude, “I mean— it’s not that I’m not happy to see you, but—“ 

“Cool it.” Shinsou advises, plopping down in the chair stationed next to Izuku’s bed. “Saw that Todoroki guy walk you here.”

“Ah.”

“That all you can say?” Shinsou puts an offended hand to his chest, “Midoriya, I thought we bonded on that hallway floor.” His eyes drift to Izuku’s sling. “I also thought I told you not to break something hitting that guy.”

“I...have a problem following instructions.”

Shinsou leans back and smirks, “Don’t we all?” He sobers in an instant, the emotional whiplash leaves Izuku spinning. “I wanna thank you.”

“Hm?” 

Shinsou stares a hole into the ceiling. “People...have always thought my Quirk was villainous. Even if they didn’t say it outright, I could see it in their eyes. You’re the first person to say I could be a hero and mean it.” He coughs into his sleeve, avoiding Izuku’s wide eyes, “So yeah, thanks. For giving me the benefit of the doubt.”

“...” Izuku joins Shinsou in staring at the ceiling. How would his life have turned out, if he grew spiteful of the world around him? Like Shinsou? Besides mutual ridicule, their situations are hardly similar. Still, if Shinsou’s willing to put himself out there, it’s the least Izuku can do to return the favor. 

“No problem.“

Chapter Text

Izuku feels partially responsible when Todoroki loses the fight against Bakugou. He forced a 180 on Todoroki’s worldview, that kind of stuff tends to be jarring. Seeing him hang limp in Bakugou’s grip makes the guilt surge. He’s unresponsive, even with Bakugou yelling in his face. Izuku can’t see if Todoroki’s eyes are open or not, his hair’s in the way, but there’s a good possibility he has a concussion, second-degree at least. 

Recovery Girl looks up from her desk, “Oh dear.” She clicks her tongue and grabs her cane, “I best go and heal him. He’s got the award ceremony to sit through.” And like that, she’s gone, leaving a swinging door in her wake. For someone her age, she sure is fast. 

So there he is, sitting in his bed and staring at the tv screen with no phone to occupy him. It should still be in the break room. He could go and get it, but he doesn’t know if he’d make it back in time before Recovery Girl came back. Hippocratic oath or no, she’d find a way to make him feel awful. He’s already got a broken arm, he doesn’t need anything added to that. 

So, with nothing else to keep him occupied, his mind catches up to the fact he was just on live television. It’s a weird feeling, like realizing you could have died hours after the actual event. His hands are still shaking from adrenaline, or maybe hypoglycemia, he hasn’t eaten anything substantial for a few hours. Still, live television. Everyone in Japan saw him break himself in the arena.

Everyone in Japan. A televised event people have been looking forward to for weeks. 

What are the odds the League decided to not tune in?

If he wasn’t already sitting down, he’d be swaying with the dizzying fear. UA doesn’t release their class rosters to the public, and the League had no reason to be interested until the USJ. He didnt have social media and no one in his neighborhood was talking about how he got into UA, Izuku’s identity had been as safe as it could feasibly be. Now, his and his classmate’s names have been plastered on LED screens, painting a target on each and every one of them. Especially Izuku. 

Villains watched him stumble though his speech. They saw him fight, they saw him lose. They saw what his Quirk could do to him. He had the advantage of mystery before, when they didn’t know one student from the other. Now, he’s handed them his name and a base outline of One for All, including his limits with it.

Izuku sinks back into bed. Maybe he could disappear if he presses his hands against his face hard enough. He just had to go and make it to the semi-finals, didn’t he?

He pulls himself out of his pit of woe when the awards ceremony begins. All Might’s standing to the side. Bakugou’s...chained to the pedestal. He’s got handcuffs on and— is that a muzzle? Not for the first time, Izuku wonders what kind of school he goes to. 

Todoroki is next to Bakugou. He’s looking more alert than he did after the final fight, something that makes the persistently worried part of Izuku relax a bit. Even then, he can tell Todoroki isn’t listening to All Might speak, he’s too wrapped up in his own head. 

There’s one thing in this scene that confuses him. Tokoyami is standing on the third pedestal. Didn’t Iida place third? If he had his phone, he could’ve sent a quick text to see where his friend was. Alas, he doesn’t, so he sits there with the growing pit in his stomach. 

Recovery Girl comes back right as All Might tries to put the gold medal on Bakugou’s neck. It ends up in his mouth. Izuku wonders if this is really happening or if he’s fallen asleep at some point. He doesn’t ruminate on it long, Recovery Girl doesn’t come back alone.

“Midoriya!” Uraraka launches herself into the seat next to his bed. “Recovery Girl told me you needed to rest, so I grabbed your things for you.” She hands him his phone and puts his bag down next to him.   

Izuku’s grateful, but he’s more concerned the red rimming her eyes and the dampness of her cheeks. “Uraraka, are you okay?”

She freezes, then slumps like a doll with its strings cut. “You noticed, huh?” To his horror, her eyes start watering and her lip threatens to tremble. She scowls and wipes at her face, “Sorry. I thought I got all this out before.”

“It’s okay,” Izuku stumbles to say, “I cry all the time.” That, at least, gets a laugh. “...Do you want to talk about it? It’s totally fine if you don’t. Don’t feel like you have to tell me—“ 

Uraraka watches him flail with a tiny, wet smile. “It’s okay.” She sniffles. “My parents, we come from a poor family. They do so much for me and all I want to do is pay them back—“ she chokes on her words, “I want to give them a good life, but I need money to do that. And heroes get paid, like, a lot. A stupid amount of money.” She sits there with her head hung low, like she’s waiting for Izuku to judge her. “So I decided to be a hero.”

“Uraraka...I get it.” How many times has Izuku himself wanted to pay back his own mother? “You have your reasons, and they’re good ones.” Much better than some pros he could name off the top of his head. Amazing they may be, but some really are just in it for the fame. 

Uraraka’s shoulders start to shake. Izuku stares at his hands for a silent moment before placing one on her shoulder. He can see Recovery Girl smiling to herself at her desk. 

He doesn’t know how long they sit there. Long enough for the awards ceremony to end and the crowds to start filing out for lunch. The second year competition will kick off soon. It doesn’t matter. Uraraka’s tears have dried and she’s back to smiling, talking to him and asking about his favorite parts of the festival. Everything is as it should be between them. 

When Recovery Girl clears him, they walk to the bus station together. Izuku has the foresight to change out of his gym uniform, but Uraraka refuses to use up two sets of clothing and wears hers. Which is fine, she’s allowed to make her own decisions.

He just wishes everyone would stop staring. Even if he’s not facing them, he knows people focused on him. Notice Me Not is silent, even when he tries to activate it. 

Neither he nor Uraraka talk much on the way home. But that’s okay, Izuku finds comfort in the way her arm will sometimes brush his, a reassurance that she’s there. It’s been an exhausting day for the both of them, and sometimes words take too much energy. 

Uraraka’s stop comes up. She stands and gives him a brighter smile than usual. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Midoriya.” 

And then he’s alone. 

Mom’s waiting with a hot meal when he comes back. She hugs and frets for and cries on him, babbling how proud she is and to please not break himself any more? Han weaves between them, purring and insisting he be picked up. Izuku returns his mothers hug full force and fulfills his cat’s demands. Now with an armful of cat, he and his mom head to the kitchen. 

They talk about mom’s day. Apparently there was a sale going on at the market and she managed to snag a few great deals while everyone waited for the tournament to start. The rest of the day had been spent between the couch and the kitchen. She gushed over his cleverness in the first round and gives him a knowing look talking about the second. Bakugou and the damage he did in the past isn’t going away any time in the future. They end up talking about the third event the longest. 

“Todoroki Shouto.” Mom tests the name on her tongue. “He seemed...conflicted.”

Izuku swallowed his mouthful of dinner. “He’s a good person.”

They finish up and decide to turn in. Izuku’s limbs get heavier the closer he gets to his bed. A shower would probably be a smart decision, but his head begs him to consider just passing out right now. He obliges it, barely putting in the effort to pull his covers over himself. Han cuddles up to him, butting his fuzzy head under Izuku’s chin. He rests a hand on his cat’s ribcage and goes to bed feeling his fingers vibrate from all the purring. 

All in all, not a bad day. Not a bad day at all. 

He’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes. 

——

Morning comes way too fast. It feels like Izuku’s only just closed his eyes and the sun’s rising, stealing his chance at rest. His whole everything is sore. Hell, his eyelids feel sore. Wait, that’s just crust. He groans and rubs his eyes, opening them to Han, uncomfortably close to his face. There’s a moment, a few milliseconds of peace, then Han butts his head against Izuku’s nose. 

It kinda sets the tone for the day. 

His nose still throbbing, he gets up and goes through his usual routine. Mom walks into the kitchen ten minutes after him. Han’s eating his food and Izuku talks to his mom about plans for the weekend. There’s an old movie marathon scheduled and they both want to make a night out of it. They leave the house around the same time, giving Han one last scritch before closing the door. 

It’s all normal until he gets on the bus. His uniform is like a neon sign, every eye in the vehicle focus on him. Izuku picks a spot on the floor to stare at. God, this is really uncomfortable. And it’s not like he can use Notice Me Not cause he can’t feel it in the back of his head like usual. Besides, the bus is way too crowded this point in the day. He’d end up bumping into someone, and then he’d have to explain how he appeared out of thin air and that’s not a conversation he wants to have with a stranger. Or anyone, really. 

So yeah, he’s grinning and bearing it as much as he can. Until someone approaches him and he‘s forced to give up hope on a quiet commute. 

It’s an older man, an office worker by the looks of him. He has a beaten up briefcase and a hand free of calluses. “Young man, weren’t you in the sports festival? One of the semi-finalists?” He doesn’t wait for Izuku to answer. “You’ve got a strong Quirk there, a real hero’s Quirk.”

It’s a snowball effect from there. Everyone on the bus is clamoring to tell him something. Be it a congratulation or a question or a comment, they all try to speak over each other. It’s a mess of noise and bodies being way too close to his. When the bus stops, he doesn’t care that it’s not his stop, he shoots out of the doors all the same. 

It takes a bit longer to get to school, but it’s a trade off Izuku’s glad to take. Passing through the gates, he still feels tense from the bus. He’s got...about forty minutes until class. Gran Torino and All Might had both decided to give him the day off morning training today, but the gym is still unlocked. Izuku breathes in the weird mix of air freshener and sweat, feeling some of his frazzled nerves settle. He changes into his gym uniform and rolls out a mat, starting off with stretches and going through his warmups

The burn of muscles takes his mind off his anxieties, if just for a bit. It’s something e sorely needed before class. The bus wound him up tight, if he didn’t get any relief he might have snapped during class. Anxiety attack in the middle of his classmates, yeah, that’s something to avoid...forever. 

He finishes with about fifteen minutes left. Just enough time to rinse off and get back into his usual uniform. Notice Me Not’s on more out of habit than anything when he opens the door, and he’s glad for once.

Iida is sitting in his desk, which isn’t weird, it’s his expression that has Izuku worried. It’s frightening to see kind, rule-abiding and considerate Iida glare at his desk with a violent intensity he’s only seen from Bakugou. 

Okay, play it cool. Izuku takes a deep breath and drops Notice Me Not. He does his best to put on the brightest smile he can. “Good morning, Iida.” He pretends not to see how his friend startles and slips a calm mask over his face. 

“Good morning, Midoriya. I’m glad to see you’ve recovered from your fight with Todoroki.”

“Yeah,” Izuku sits down at his desk. “Recovery Girl m-might tie me to the hospital b-bed at this rate.” Iida smiles, Izuku’s never seen such a fake expression. 

Something is glaringly wrong, but Izuku doesn’t know how to adress it. He has no idea how Iida will react to prying. Best to wait until he has more information. Still, it pains him to see his friend like this. So he says, “Hey, Iida. Remember when you were talking to me about my mental health?” Oh god he’s going to choke, Izuku closes his eyes and forces through it. “I just want to let you know I’m here for you, too.”

Dead silence. A flash of something goes through Iida’s eyes, but his face stays neutral all the same. “Thank you, Midoriya. I’ll keep it in mind.”

It’s as good as he’s going to get. Izuku looks away and starts taking out his things from his backpack. 

Everyone’s soon seated and chattering about the festival...almost everyone. The desk behind Izuku is empty and he can feel it burning into his back

Maybe Todoroki wasn’t coming to class today? A lot happened during the festival, Izuku wouldn’t fault him for taking a day off. Hell, he’d had certainly been considering it that morning. 

Then, at the last possible second, Todoroki comes through the door. The bell rings in his wake, Izuku tries not to be obvious about his staring. Todoroki looks tired, but more settled than he was yesterday. Izuku isn’t expecting him to actually talk to him though. 

“Good morning, Midoriya.” 

It’s so dumb, but hearing that makes Izuku perk up like a flower. “Good morning, Todoroki.” He twists around in his seat as Todoroki goes to his respective desk. “H-how are you?” 

Todoroki pauses from grabbing his things and looks at Izuku. Izuku can barely see his eyes between the bangs. “Better.”

Izuku slumps a bit in relief. “That’s good, I was kind of worried after watching your fight with Bakugou.“ 

“You gave me a lot to think about.” Todoroki replies, sitting back up with his notebook in hand. 

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” Izuku bites the inside of his lip, “I’m really sorry about what happened—“

“It’s okay. I...needed someone to set me straight. I’m sorry, too. For avoiding you like that.”

Izuku wants to freaking cry, he’s the one trying to apologize, dammit. “It’s fine, people do that a lot around me.”

An odd expression flashes across Todoroki’s face. “How about we just agree that we’re both sorry?”

“Deal.” 

It feels good to talk with Todoroki again. 

Eraserhead doesn’t dawdle when he walks in. A few of the bandages have been taken off thanks to Recovery Girl, but their teacher’s face remains covered. He’s got a pile of papers in hand and an aura of exhaustion but still manages to get everyone quiet with a motion of his head. The papers hit Kaminari’s desk. “Hand these out.” Murmuring stirs while their classmate does as he’s told. “Hero internships are coming up soon. The paper you’ll receive has the offices that either have a standing agreement with Yuuei or requested you by name. I expect you all to make your decision in the next two days.”

Izuku stares down at is sheet. There were...a lot of names. More than he’d been expecting. Really, the hero industry was an economy all on its own. The sports festival was both entertainment for the public and a way for aspiring heroes to show wether or not they were worth the investment. Izuku can’t use his full power without breaking himself, he’s got no delusions about that, but apparently the little control he did have over One for All was enough to get some people interested. 

Chatter picked up all around the classroom, everyone wanted to talk about who they were thinking of picking.

“So,” Uraraka leans over, “who are you planning on choosing?”

“I don’t know.” Izuku replies, “I honestly didn’t expect so many offers.” So many options, which one should he pick? Death Arms was a good choice in terms of learning how to use his strength, but he’s...still kind of bitter about the slime incident, so that’s out. But he doesn’t need to train just One for All, Notice Me Not has been with him all his life, but he just knows he can do more with it. Who could help him with that kind of stuff—

He reaches the bottom of his paper and feels like smacking himself. There, in bold letters, is a name he’s become very, very familiar with. All this worrying and he just had to finish his list to find the answer. Figures Gran Torino would come out of retirement just for this. 

“You got him too, huh?” 

Izuku yelps and almost fall over in his haste to turn around. Todoroki’s staring at him with the barest trace of amusement. “Gran o-offered an internship to you, t-too?”

“He did. Though I appreciate him offering, I think I’m going to intern with Endeavor.”

It takes everything in Izuku not to flinch at that name. “I’m n-not doubting y-you, but is that a g-good idea? I g-get that he’s y-your dad, but he’s...” dark bruises and cold expressions plague his head, “not a really n-nice p-person.” Did he just go too far? Did he break what little trust they’d remade? 

Evidently not, Todoroki is smiling. “If I want to make any improvement, I’ll have to learn it through him. Thank you for the concern, but I’ll be fine. I’m used to him, after all these years.”

It’s unfortunate, but true. Not many heroes have fire Quirks, much less to the kind of strength Endeavor has. He’s one of the rare heroes that got to his position through sheer battle prowess. If Todoroki was to learn from anyone about using fire, Endeavor would be the best bet. Still, “T-take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’ll try my best.” 

It settles between them slowly, a warm atmosphere they both welcome like an old friend. But then the general ruckus of the class takes it away seconds after it’s made. It doesn’t matter, the fact it’d had existed at all reassures Izuku that while not everything is fine, it’s going to get there. Eventually. 

Chapter Text

Once Izuku told Aizawa which hero agency he was interning under, he was handed the time and location. It felt weird to know where Gran Torino lived, it’ll feel weirder to be there in person tomorrow.

Here’s the thing, tomorrow’s going to take a while if he doesn’t manage to fall asleep soon. He’s been staring at the ceiling for thirty minutes, hoping if he stays still enough, he could doze. No dice. 

He leaps at the chance for distraction when his phone buzzes. The screen’s brightness blinds him, he squints past it and reads the message.

Unknown number

I’m starting to rethink choosing Endeavor’s agency. He’s being annoyingly smug about it. 

This is Todoroki. Uraraka gave me your number 

Izuku stares at the screen. He stares, and stares, and stares. He stares so long his eyes water and he has to blink. 

Izuku’s going to have words with her. He says it now, but he knows it’ll just be him spluttering and blushing while Uraraka teases him. 

He knew there was a reason she was so smug today. 

Izuku:

Hi Todoroki!

Is the exclamation point too much?

knowing Gran, he’d take you up in a heartbeat if it meant pissing someone off

He most definitely would, and he’d get away with it, too. That old man act is scarily believable, and Gran would smack him over the head for thinking so. 

Todoroki:

I’ll definitely keep it in mind.

It’s getting late, we should both go to sleep.

Izuku:

Sounds good! Han is getting needy anywusyd

Han chooses that exact moment to butt his head against Izuku’s hand, making him hit send. He feels a little bit of his soul die watching the read receipt pop up below it. 

Todoroki: 

Going off of that I assume you’ve fallen victim already. Good night, Midoriya.

Izuku pushes Han away as gently as he can. Even so, Han is displeased and let’s it be known by using Izuku’s fingers as chew toys. “Jokes on you.” He tells his cat, “I still don’t have most of my feeling in that hand.”

Izuku: 

You’d be correct. Night, Todoroki!

—

Gran told him to show up at 9. He also advised not to eat a big breakfast. Izuku listens to both instructions (trust him, with Gran Torino, even if it‘s worded as advice, it isn’t). 

It’s pretty weird, seeing where his kind-of mentor lives. Don’t get him wrong, the apartment is nice looking, if a bit cracked in places. It’s just...he wasn’t really sure what he expected, honestly. The mental image in his head was a lot more yoda-like — which, by the way, has anyone noticed how there are like, at least three places in Japan with names from Star Wars? Just him? Ok, just making sure. 

He checks his phone and winces when he sees he only has two minutes before nine. Best to get it over with and knock before Gran can get on his case about being late. He makes three timid knocks on the door, to which is greeted by a crash from inside and no small amount of grumbling, maybe a curse or two thrown in for good measure. The door opens, revealing a small figure and a familiar scowl. 

“Well?” Gran demands, “Get inside, I ain’t getting any younger here.”

Inside is very much the same as the outside: cracks in random places, but overall, nice. 

And then Gran tries to take his freaking head off.

To be fair, he was aiming for the shoulder blades, but Izuku’d seen him move out of the corner of his eye and ducked, hence the almost-decapitation. Gran keeps going until his feet hit the wall, a brand new set of crack spindling from where he’s perched. When he looks up, Izuku sees the amused glint in his eye. “Well, looks like you’ve been learning something from me after all.”

Izuku comes out of his crouch very slowly. “Did you just try to sneak attack me?”

Gran cackles and hops down onto the floor. “Real life experience, boy! No villain’s just gonna stand around waiting for you to notice ‘em.”

It makes sense, but “Did you really have to get your point across by almost kicking me in the head?”

“Oh, quit complaining. You dodged, didn’t you?”

“That’s not the point—“ Izuku leaps out of the way again with a yelp. “Stop doing that!” 

“We’ve got a week and we’re using it, so get full cowl started up before I get serious!”

It’s going to be a long internship.

——

For a sadistic teacher, Gran at least has the decency to break for lunch. By the time the clock strikes twelve, Izuku feels like he’s got a fifty-fifty chance of either throwing up or blacking out. It’s kind of like when he was training for the exam with All Might, except instead of All Might, Izuku has a three foot tall old man kicking his ass.

Sometimes he just has to wonder how he got here. 

He downs his second glass of water right as Gran sets down a plate of food. Izuku’s almost scared to reach for some, half expecting Gran to go Master Shifu on him and wack the food out of his hand. He picks up a sandwich, Gran stays on his side of the table. Small mercies.

But then lunch is over and they’re back to the grind. Gran has him busting his butt over footwork, of all things. “Fights aren’t all about smacking some bastard around.” He says as he puts the lunch plates away. “You gotta know how to make the most of your movement.” 

This translates into an exercise where Gran launches himself at Izuku without warning and he only gets a certain amount of steps to avoid. Gran is a master of sneak attacks, so you can imagine what kind of hell this is wreaking on Izuku’s nerves. 

Notice Me Not is barred from training until he gets this down, meaning he can’t catch a freaking breath. So far, he’s only dodged a quarter of Gran’s attacks. Gran said they’ll keep doing this until that ratio is 50/50. He ends up going home before they get there. Which means he has a whole new day to dodge or get hit trying. 

The first thing he does when he gets home is shower. The water’s hot enough to scald off a layer of skin and it feels like absolute heaven to him, who is going to be all sorts of purple tomorrow.

Han doesn’t care about Izuku’s tender status, launching all ten pounds of himself onto Izuku’s very sore abdomen. His only response to Izuku’s groan of pain is to start cleaning his leg. 

Guessing from how his phone is buzzing next to his head, everyone’s had an interesting day. Izuku sits and stews in his misfortune for all of thirty seconds before picking it up. 

Exam Wonder Trio

Uraraka: 

guysssss

-

Gunhead is so freakin cool

-

He taught me how to flip someone

What follows is a series of pictures she’d taken through the day. His favorite has to be the selfie she tried to sneak of her and Gunhead. He’d noticed, of course, and had the good humor to pose. Well, glad to see Uraraka’s having better luck than Izuku.

Izuku:

That’s great Uraraka! My mentor is kinda...unorthodox but I know I’ll learn a lot

-

How about you Iida?

Izuku feels tense even typing that last message, but he still hits send. Iida’s been off lately, in little ways, but off all the same. It’s hidden in the extra seconds it takes for him to start a lecture, the distance in his eyes when he thinks no one’s paying attention. He acts fine, but everything he does says otherwise.

Iida:

My internship is going well. Manual is a very dedicated hero, I’m privileged to be working with him.

There’s no followup message. Uraraka takes what’s given and runs with it, talking about how awesome it is they all enjoyed their first days. Izuku wouldn’t say him getting kicked around was enjoyable, but doesn’t bother to say so. It’s been a long day, he feels like he’s gonna pass out any momen—

He’s asleep before he finishes the thought.

——

The next day is very much the same song and dance: Gran Torino launches himself at Izuku, who has only three steps to dodge. He gets it, economy of movement is important and all that, but isn’t there a way he could learn this without getting kicked at high speeds? He feels like there is. 

“It’s improvement.” Gran mutters while Izuku downs a water bottle in thirty seconds. It’s one of the rare breaks in training, and Izuku‘s starting to regret picking Gran for his internship. Don’t get him wrong, he’s learning, but he doubts he’d be this bruised had he chosen someone else. “We can probably start working on something else after lunch.”

Izuku almost cries with relief. 

——

Todoroki texts Izuku at least once a day to ask how his internship is going. Most of the time, Izuku will send a picture of his latest bruise, all of which contain a certain feline photo bomber. Todoroki will compliment Han and tell Izuku the bare minimum of what happened with Endeavor, the exceptions being anything he deems funny enough to mention. Izuku’s’ personal favorite is when Endeavor broke a fire hydrant in one of his fights and got absolutely soaked. He dried off almost instantly, of course, but those precious few seconds where he stood there like a wet cat, shocked expression all over his face, is a mental image Izuku’s going to cherish for as long as he lives. 

The whole process is like clockwork. 

Han the horrible, horrible cat continues to disregard how sore his human is and use him as a pillow/perch. Izuku’s too tired to convince Han that no, he’s not a cat tower, and instead works on the developing file he has on the league. Training’s exhausting, so much so he hasn’t gone out on the streets in a week, so he’s been compiling news and police reports instead for his information. 

(And if he has to sneak into the police department to get the full, uncensored versions...well, it’s easier than running around the streets after dark.)

He stifles a yawn as he types in the numbers, only to frown once he gets a good look at them. The average of public hero fights are steady, but that’s nothing new. What concerns him is the police and underground hero reports. They’ve got their hands busy with the Hero-Killer, but so far every attempt to sniff out the League’s new hideout has been a dead end. It’s complete radio silence, and Izuku feels his gut churn with unease. What if they’re planning to take a more personal approach and track down where the students of class 1-A live? What if they go after his mom? What if—

He forces himself to calm down and pets Han, focusing on the coarseness of his fur. The cat purrs and kneads Izuku’s shoulder, pricking him through his shirt with sharp claws. The sensation is grounding, he takes a few deep breaths and closes the tab.

He sleeps with the taser on his nightstand, just in case. 

——

Another day comes and goes. Izuku, still sore but with a noticeable lack of bruising, sinks into the train seat next to Gran Torino. “I’m...starting to see why All Might’s scared of you.” He inspects the scuffed sleeve of his hero costume — the result of being dragged across the rough wall in one of Gran’s more inspired moments of sadism. 

“Hm?” He cracks a wrinkled eye open. “Oh, please. He’s only scared cause I made him puke one time in training.”

That’s...not very surprising, the more Izuku thinks about it. Though in his opinion, puking alone shouldn’t be what has All Might quaking in his boots.

Izuku blinks when a phone is shoved into his face. “Uh?”

Gran waves the phone, exasperated. “Zoned out, didn’t you? Put your phone number in here. If Toshinori starts acting stupid, you tell me and I’ll sort him out. Okay?”

“Acting stupid” leaves a lot of room for interpretation. Izuku still takes the offered phone and types his number in. Gran takes the phone back and soon Izuku’s phone dings with a notification. 

And then the wall of the train explodes inward. Izuku and gran are thrown from their seats. His new vantage point from the floor isn’t all that great, but he still recognized just what attacked them. 

The Noumu cut a horrific figure, looming over screaming passengers with drool leaking out between sharp teeth. Shit, civilians—

Gran shoots forward, kicking the Noumu square in the jaw.  The force sends it crashing onto a rooftop. Izuku can’t see it anymore, but his spine tingles when an enraged screech pierces the are. 

“It didn’t come alone.” Gran curses, looking out into the city. He looks to Izuku. “I’ll take care of this one. Go.”

He really doesn’t need to be told twice.

They both leave via the Noumu-sized hole in the train. Gran goes to finish what he started, and Izuku...goes. He’s not sure where he should be heading, Gran conveniently left that bit out. Anywhere he’s needed, he supposes. His visor clicks into place and he’s off. 

They’re in Hosu, he knows that much from a billboard he rushes past. Dozens of Noumu litter the city, Izuku can see it all from his position on the rooftops. He doesn’t even realize he turned on Notice Me Not until one with wings — wings, what the hell — flies right past him and misses his head by centimeters. 

The city doesn’t look too good. People are screaming, heroes and policemen alike are barking orders, Izuku’s pretty sure he saw a dumpster fire a few alleys back. So many people, so much noise. It’s like his nightmares decided to make a real-life debut. He’s gotta say, he’s playing the roll of “idiot who’s just staring at everything in horror” really damn well. But there is one good thing that comes of him being the least helpful hero-to-be, and it’s that he manages to spot a familiar head of red and white hair. 

Todoroki’s reinforcing infrastructure with his ice while a few sidekicks Izuku recognizes as Endeavor’s work on evacuation. He can’t see him friend’s face from this angle, but Todoroki is still a relieving sight. He drops down from the roof and lands right next to him. 

“Hey— woah!” Izuku ducks the sucker-punch Todoroki throws at his head. “Easy! It’s just me!”

Todoroki blinks in surprise. “Ah, Midoriya. What are you doing here?” 

Izuku really would like to go in detail, but the city is kind of on fire and he should really be getting on that. “Train ride, Noumu crashed in. Gran Torino’s taking care of it.” If the old man hasn’t already taken the thing down, Izuku’ll eat his shoe. “Where do you need me?”

Any residual surprise from Izuku’s sudden appearance is gone, in its place is a calculating expression. “My father’s hero agency is covering most of it. Did you see Iida before you found me?”

Izuku shakes his head. “No, you’re the first one I saw.”  A dreadful feeling starts to crawl over his skin. “...Have you seen him at all this week?”

“No.” Todoroki frowns. “He said he had family business to attend to.”

Izuku remembers complaining to Han about the lack of investigations into the League and feels his heart sink. “He’s looking for the Hero Killer.” The dots start connecting. “He chose to intern with Manual because he works in the Hero Killer’s territory.”

“After what happened with Ingenium, he’d be stupid enough to try it.” Todoroki curses. “What do you need me to do?”

Shit, okay. Izuku is pretty much the last person Todoroki should be asking that. “We need to split up.” He blurts, “I can cover ground fast and with your ice you can get an aerial view. If either of us finds him, we send a text with our location.”

“Got it.” And then Todoroki’s gone, but not before throwing a “Be careful.” Over his shoulder that Izuku refuses to admit makes his cheeks heat up. Thank god for his helmet.

Izuku forces himself to take a breath, calming jittery nerves before running off again. His feet pound the asphalt, faster and faster until he is no more than a humanoid blur whizzing through the streets, straining to spot white armor in one of the alleys. 

This was planned, Izuku realizes somewhere between the tenth and fifteenth block he’s covered. Releasing this many Noumu at once, in another villain’s territory? Too risky. Unless the League managed to get the Hero Killer to cooperate they risk having interference from a third party. And hey, there’s a thought that makes him feel like vomiting: the Hero Killer is working with the League.

Fuck, this night sucks. He just wants to curl up with Han and a good book. But no, he has to deal with homicidal villains and genetic abominations that have the combined cognitive power of a baby carrot. 

Screams break the barrage of Izuku’s thoughts, forcing him to skid to a stop. A Noumu’s rampaging in the street below, cracking the street with each step and crushing anything it gets its hands on. The real problem lies in the people scattering away as fast as they can. A kid who can’t be much older than Izuku trips on debris and everyone’s so caught up in getting themselves away they don’t think to help him. The Noumu lumbers towards him and Izuku’s already reaching for his taser. He tries his best to ignore the way his hands shake as he clips on the long-range barbs and takes aim. 

At first, nothing happens, then Izuku releases his breath when the Noumu shrieks and starts convulsing. It claws at its head, trying to remove the barbs and removing layers of skin in the effort. It’s no good, they’re buried deep into it’s brain tissue. With a final scream that’s going to feature in so, so many nightmares, the Noumu falls over, twitching every so often

Izuku drops down from the roof and rushes to the civilian. “Can you stand?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the Noumu in case it’s decided to play possum. 

“I-- it almost…” tears leak down the teen’s face, mixing with the blood from a cut on his cheek. “You, you saved me.”

Izuku blinks, then smiles. “I did. Here,” he holds out his hand and grins wider when the teen takes it. “I’ll get you to a safe zone, or at least to a pro hero.”

“You’re not a hero?”

Izuku laughs and grasps the back of his neck. “No...not yet, at least.” then, quieter but with much more fear, “Ah man, I’m going to have to explain this to Gran, aren’t I?” The word “go” can mean a lot of things. Who’s to say that he meant for Izuku to go and take down a Noumu?

…He’ll worry about it later. 

He’s just managed to find a sidekick when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. There isn't really a word to describe the dread when he sees Todorokiu has sent his location. “Here, he might have a fractured shin.” he then passes off the civilian like one would a hot potato and books it. 

According to the text, Todoorki and Iida aren’t too far away, especially when he’s got full cowl running as high as he dares. He uses the walls of the building around him as springboards to get back to the rooftops. It says something about his training that he isn’t out of breath as he approaches his destination. He’s about to drop down when the smell of blood filters through his visor. 

Metal catches off the flickering streetlight, highlighting a wickedly sharp blade against alley shadows. The owner of the blade is standing over a familiar set of white armor, Todoroki is off to the side, both of them are frozen in place like something’s holding them there. Even without all the police reports Izuku’s read, he’d recognize this man as the Hero Killer on sight. 

Taking everything into account, Iida and Todoroki don’t seem to be in much danger, the Hero Killer is too focused on monologing his ideology. Even so, Izuku is frozen in place. He’s not equipped to deal with a known killer, none of them are equipped to deal with that. But what is he supposed to do? There’s no hero around to swoop in and save the day…

But Izuku does have one’s number saved in his phone. 

He almost drop the phone with how fast he pulls it out. He keeps the message as concise as possible and hits send right as the Hero Killer finishes his speech and holds his blade over his captive audience. 

Notice Me Not muffles his landing. He doesn't have much time to think, only to go after the most glaring weakness he can see. He rushes forwards, grabs the fluttering, raggedy ends of the Hero Killer’s headband, and yanks. 

It does what it’s supposed to do. The hero killer veers off course, his blade meeting pavement instead of Iida’s neck. He turns to face his assailant, but Izuku’s kick is already halfway to his face. The killer goes flying into the alley wall, briefly stunned. 

Izuku kneels next to his classmates and takes stock of their condition. Todoroki looks fine, it’s Iida that sparks the most concern. There’s a nasty looking stab wound on his forearm that should definitely get looked at. He still has to ask, “Todoroki, Iida, are you alright?”

“We’re fine,” Todoroki looks over to the rising form of the Hero Killer. “It’s his quirk. If he licks your blood, you won’t be able to move.”

Well, that’s a bad Quirk for a killer to have. Izuku nods to himself and stands back up. “There has to be some sort of limit to it, I’ll just have to keep him busy until it wears off.”

“Oh?” the rasping voice of the Hero Killer asks, “what an arrogant thing for a hero to say. Tell me, boy, why do you protect them?”

On any other day, maybe Izuku would have answered. Instead, he drops into a ready stance. Full cowl sparks and crackles around him. He doesn’t have to beat him, he only has to stall. He only has to stall--

There’s no warning when the Hero Killer attacks, and it’s only the training Izuku’s gone through these last few days that he manages to avoid being nicked by that blade of his. In the split second his form’s obscured by the Hero Killer, he flicks Notice Me Not on and spins to make his counterattack. The Hero Killer can’t prepare for what he doesn't know is coming, the sucker punch hits true. If the man had a nose -- which, what? Why does he have no nose? -- it would’ve broken. Instead, his head snaps to the side and he stumbles away to spit out a glob of blood while Todoroki and Iida exclaim their confusion. Izuku doesn't let up on the advantage, he steps forward to land another hit, only to be met with a burning pain in his thigh. 

He looks down, which is a mistake because the sight of a throwing knife half buried into his leg makes him feel faint. His hands spasm but make no move to remove the knife. Izuku stumbles back until his back meets the alley wall, each step with his injured leg feels like actual fire. Shit, given how badly it’s bleeding, he’s pretty sure it hit an artery.

“Midoriya!” 

The Hero Killer laughs, it’s a horrible sound, torn between breathy and scratchy. Izuku’s skin crawls just hearing it. “You put up a good fight, little hero. But not good enough.” He stalks forward, evaluating Izuku. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you defending them?” 

Come on, Izuku, a little longer. “Because that’s what a hero does.” dizziness makes his vision wobbly, but he can still see how Stain scowls.

“It’s a shame, really. With how you fought against me, you have the makings of a true hero.” he reaches for his sword, “And now it has to come to an end, all because you thought you could beat me.” Todoroki and iida are yelling, but izuku might possibly be in shock, he can’t really hear what they’re saying.

“I can’t.” 

The Hero Killer pauses, “Hm?”

“I can’t beat you. I knew it from the start.”

His head tilts like a curious cat before a wounded mouse. “Then why? What did you have to gain?”

“Nothing.” Izuku breathes out, “Nothing but time.” he sees something over the Hero Killer’s shoulder and smiles. “You’re not fighting me anymore, you’re fighting him.”

He blacks out right as a vengeful Gran Torino kicks the Hero Killer straight out of the alley.

Chapter Text

Consciousness is slow to return, fading in and out of a warm blanket of darkness. Izuku’s not sure how long it takes, but eventually he wakes up, and his first coherent thought is “Son of a bitch, my leg hurts.” When he opens his eyes, a white ceiling greets him, along with the smell of antiseptic. To the side, he can hear the steady beep of a heart monitor. A hospital. He’s gotten himself into quite the predicament, hasn’t he? He can’t remember much from when he passed out, but he definitely remembers getting stabbed. He has the distinct impression Gran Torino showed up somewhere towards the end. 

Holy shit, Gran. the old man is going to murder him. 

Izuku shoots up at the thought, looking around frantically for his mentor. Blessedly, there is no short, nightmare-inducing old man in the room. There is, however, Iida and Todoroki. Both of them had whipped their heads up from whatever they’d been doing, their eyes bugging out at Izuku’s sudden movement. 

“Uh.” Izuku says like a total idiot, “Hi?”

Iida is the first of the two to snap out of his surprise. “Midoriya!” He doesn’t leave his bed, but Izuku can feel the hand movements from where he sits. “You’re awake!” 

Yeah, he is, and he’s kinda regretting it now, cause his thigh is aching like nothing else. Both Iida and Todorok look tired, physically and emotionally. ”What happened?” 

“...The doctors said the artery in your leg was severed.” Todoroki’s voice is quiet, but his words echo in the room. “You almost bled out.”

Oh. That’s...a lot worse than he was expecting. Izuku swallows. “H-how--?”

Iida’s quick to explain, “Todoroki used his sleeve as a tourniquet. We wanted to take the knife out, but your mentor told us it was the only thing keeping you from bleeding out faster.” He looks at his bandaged arm, scowling. “Midoriya, this was my mission. You weren’t supposed to get involved. Neither of you were.”

There’s no emotion in Todoroki’s voice, just cold finality. “He would have killed you. He almost killed all of us.”

About that… “What happened to him, anyways?” Izuku asks.

“Gran Torino kicked the Hero Killer out of the alley. He took one look at you, told us what to do, then left to pursue him.” Todoroki looks down at his hands, “There was a lot of blood.”

Izuku bites his lip. He’d like to say he won’t do anything like that again, but there’s no point in lying. “I’m just glad I got there in time.” He straightens up, pasting a tired smile on his face. “Besides, it turned out alright, didn’t it?”

“For now.” There’s a small shift in Todoroki’s demeanor, just enough to change from somber to vaguely amused. “Just wait until Gran Torino gets done with giving his police report.”

The heart monitor attached to Izuku makes a high pitched whine as it registers his spike of fear. Moments later, a nurse pokes his head in, “Is everything alright?”

All three of them stare at the nurse with wide eyes. Then, Izuku starts to laugh. Todoroki tries to hold out, but a snort escapes. With his fall, Iida follows suit. The nurse watches, befuddled, as three teenagers are sent into a fit of hysterics.

“Midoriya, you--” a wheeze, “Oh my god.”

Iida manages to explain that no, Izuku is not in need of medical attention. Todoroki mutters “but he will be.” And they’re set off once again. 

Izuku flops back down onto the bed, stomach aching. It feels nice to laugh after all that’s happened. Things got really tense back in that alley, but now, they’re all safe and in relatively one piece. Yes, Izuku has a new hole in his leg, but that’s nothing some stitches and time won’t be able to fix. “I’m glad you’re both okay.” He admits in the lull. “I was really scared.”

The tense silence returns. “So was I.” Iida agrees softly, “It was a scary situation. But you really did come out of nowhere. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fight like that, Midoriya.”

“Yeah. That punch you landed did a lot of damage.” There’s a definite tone of approval in Todoroki’s voice, “You’ve improved since the sports festival.”

Izuku doesn’t mean to, but he puffs up a little at the praise. “Gran’s been teaching me a lot.” He awkwardly avoids Iida’s statement about how he came out of nowhere. Notice Me Not isn’t something he really wants to get into right now. Possibly ever. “Well, besides the Hero Killer stuff, how’ve your internships gone?”

Iida is about to open his mouth when a familiar, rough voice interrupts. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re all in a good mood.”

Izuku’s stomach sinks. Oh boy. 

Gran Torino’s in the doorway, watching the three of them sink somewhat more into their beds. He raises a wrinkled brow, “Oh no, don’t let me stop you. Tell me about how you,” He points a finger at Iida, “thought it was a good idea to go after a known serial killer. And you two,” he turns to Izuku and Todoroki, “Thought it was a good idea to go after him alone.”

There isn’t any real excuse, not one that would pacify Gran, anyways. Izuku should have texted him the moment they realized Iida was going after the Hero Killer, but he waited until the last possible moment and got stabbed for his trouble. “We don’t have any excuse.” He lowers his head. If he thought he could stand up properly, he would’ve bowed deeply. “I used what you taught me recklessly. But I don’t regret stepping in.” Izuku tries his best to maintain eye contact, he really does, but he ends up looking away. “I’m sorry.”

Gran looks like he wants to say something, but decides against it in favor of crossing his arms. “Honestly,” he sighs, “Toshinori is going to have kittens before you reach your second year.” He hobbles forward to gently bonk Izuku’s head with his cane, “When you’re cleared for exercise, you’re doing early morning practices for two months, you hear?”

Izuku can feel his face heat up with a confusing mix of embarrassment and relief. “Yes, sir.”

Gran nods to himself, “Good. Now as for you two,” He rounds on Iida, “You, I’ll leave you to Manual. But you…” He levels Todoroki with a stare. “You and Midoriya just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”

Izuku watches with fascination as Todoroki fiddles with his hospital gown. He doesn’t try to explain himself, he just stares at the floor between him and Gran like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. After an almost painful pause, a very soft “sorry” leaves Todoroki’s mouth.

Gran’s harsh expression softens, “I don’t want you to say you’re sorry. I want you to say you won’t do it again. Leave the big threats to the adults, okay? Enjoy being a kid for a bit longer.”

Todoroki looks up with wide eyes. “...Okay.”

“Good.” Gran pats his shoulder before turning around. “Now, who wants some Taiyaki?” He pulls a bag of the stuff from his pocket, but it’s been reduced to mush from all the fighting. “Ah.”

And then they’re all laughing again. 

----

 All things considered, the three of them get off rather light in terms of punishment. Izuku, technically, had been operating under blanket permission from Gran, so there was no legal trouble on that front. Iida and Todoroki, however, didn’t have such circumstances. The police eventually decided to give the credit of the Hero Killer’s capture to Gran Torino, who dealt the blow that knocked him unconscious. So long as Iida and Todoroki’s involvement was kept quiet, there would be no repercussions beyond a scolding slap on the wrist.

Visiting hours eventually come to an end, leaving the room empty and quiet. Izuku picks at his dinner half-heartedly. His leg still aches, and now that everything’s slowed down he can think about the day’s events. Izuku can still hear the Noumu’s pained screech when he tazed it’s fucking brain. Did he kill it? He didn’t let himself think about it in the moment, but now the question haunts him. He could ask Gran about it tomorrow, but he’s not sure if he wants to know.

 The noodles on his plate look vaguely like the wrinkles on a brain, he feels like he’s going to be sick. But it’s not like he can just skip dinner. He’s got a stab wound in his leg that needs nutrients to heal, and that’s before you ass concerned friends into the mix.

“Midoriya?” Izuku’s head snaps up. Todoroki is looking at him, holding his own plate out. There’s something in the way his frown turns, but Izuku can’t put a name to it. “Do you want some of my food instead?” It’s still hospital food, but it’s more palatable than the noodles. Izuku resists the urge to salivate when the smell of stir-fried rice hits him. 

“Are you sure?”

Todoroki holds his plate out further as an answer. Izuku swaps trays with him with a small “thank you.” Their fingers brush for the briefest of moments, and life would be so much simpler if Izuku’s blush was from infection. He stares down at the plate, trying his best to disappear into the hospital gown. He can feel Iida and Todoroki staring, so he picks up his chopsticks and takes a half-hearted bite. Once he swallows, it hits him just how hungry he is.

The rest of dinner is held in silence. Izuku keeps sparing looks at Iida. He’s been quiet ever since the police left, staring at his food with an unreadable expression as he ate. It’s been...a really rough week for him. Izuku wishes he knew how to help beyond what he’s about to do. 

“Are you feeling any better, Iida?”

He looks up from his food. The expression on Iida’s face is raw, open and tired in a way he never is. Izuku must have picked at something when he asked. Slowly, a small smile appears on his face. It’s weak and a little strained, but it’s genuine. “..not quite, but I’ll be okay.” 

Izuku swallows. “Well, the offer you gave me after the USJ goes both ways, okay? You can talk to me.'' This is what friends do, right? He doesn’t have the best framework, but going off of what he’s seen with Iida and Uraraka, he thinks he’s on the right track. He panics when water drips onto the blankets pooled around Iida’s waist. “Ah, I’m so sorry, I thought--”

“It’s okay,” Iida sniffs, wiping his face with a napkin, “I appreciate the offer, Midoriya. I’ll take you up on it sometime. Just...not now.”

That’s okay. That’s more than okay, actually. “Well, I’ll be here when you need me. Maybe even when you don’t.” He’ll be honest, he has no idea when anyone needs him. He just tends to be there. And maybe, just maybe, that isn’t a bad thing. 

----

The next day, Gran Torino ends up being the one explaining what happened to a hysterical Midoriya Inko, and for that Izuku will always be grateful. He did his first session of physical therapy, and while it was light, and will stay that way until his stitches get removed, it’s still enough to exhaust him. He doesn’t have enough energy to calm her down on top of that, no one would. Doesn’t stop her from mother henning him, though. 

It’s honestly fascinating how she can enter a room and proceed to fuss over everyone under twenty in it. The fact Iida and Todoroki are his friends got the dial cranked up to fifteen. If Notice Me Not could have been turned on at any point in that debacle he’d have done it instantly, questions be damned. It’ll be the first recorded case in history where someone died of embarrassment. 

Iida handles it fairly well. All polite smiles and small talk. It’s Todoroki who looks like he needs a lifeline. He’s stilted with his conversation, constantly looking to Izuku for help when her questions simply don’t stop. Izuku wishes he could do something, but it’s mom’s first time talking to friends of his who aren’t Bakugou, he couldn’t stop her if he tried. 

Other than that, it looks like it’s going to be a quiet day in recovery. At least, it was, until eleven o’clock rolls around and Izuku’s phone starts blowing up. Apparently, Uraraka decided to sleep in and only just managed to see the news. According to her, the Hero Killer is all reporters can talk about right now. That, and Izuku’s Noumu takedown. 

The civilian he’d saved told friends, family, anyone who’d listen, really, about the UA first year who saved him. Unfortunately, while there was a gag order on Iida and Todoroki’s involvement, it’s open season for him. It only takes basic detective work to get Izuku’s name and picture plastered on every screen in the hosu prefecture. He can only listen to two reporters applauding his “bravery and courage” before Iida decides enough is enough and changes the channel for him. 

They both want to ask, Izuku knows enough body language to see that, but they don’t. He almost wishes they would, it’s kind of a rip-the-bandaid-off situation, you know? A few more moments pass. They’re not going to ask. Izuku sucks in some air, “It was going to crush him.” He can still see the look of grim realization and terrified denial on the civilian’s face. “I got my taser and…” Screeching. Horrible, horrible screeching as it’s limbs spasmed and writhed. “I aimed at its brain.” He doesn’t mention how he woke up last night in a cold sweat, what he now knows to be the creature’s death throes echoing in his head. The nausea’s back, making him swallow and focus on keeping breakfast down. It’s a small mercy he didn’t have lunch yet, and it’s going to take a small miracle for him to work up an appetite after this. 

Why are hospitals so dang quiet in the rooms? Izuku could really use some background noise to fixate on besides his own heart monitor. The rate Izuku’s going, he and the nurse are going to be well acquainted before he’s let out. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting from them, and that’s what’s getting him. If he knew what to expect, he could at least prepare for it, but there’s nothing. 

“There wasn’t anything else you could do.”

Izuku bites his lip. There’s a small part of him hissing that Todoroki doesn’t mean it, but his friend’s face is so serious. It’s not as severe as when he saw...when they ran into each other in the locker room, but it’s running a close second. “You don't know that.” Izuku says, “I could have used full-cowl, I could have grabbed him and ran. I didn’t have to, to…” Kill something in a creative and horrifying way. 

“No.” Todoroki persists, “There wasn’t.” He doesn’t elaborate. He says that it’s not Izuku’s fault and acts like that alone is enough. In a special, Todoroki kind of way, he’s trying to comfort Izuku, and it works. The guilt, while still leaning on the side of crushing, lessens somewhat. 

“Yeah.” Izuku wants to deny that his eyes sting, but it’s been so, so long since someone outside of his family tried to comfort him. He plays it off as a yawn, but he’s not fooling anyone in the room. “Thanks. I kinda needed that.”

“Anytime.” And Todoroki means it. 

Chapter Text

The hospital room is lonely, now that everyone is gone. Izuku thinks about it as he stares out the window. Todoroki got discharged first, Iida second. Doctors want to keep an eye on Izuku’s recovering leg a little longer. He can’t complain. The longer he stays here, the longer he can put off the crowd of reporters likely waiting at home.

Mom visits when she can before and after work. Izuku feels bad because the hospital adds half an hour to her commute. She tells him to shush. He does. 

In between her visits he has checkups. The nurse will check Izuku’s stitches, jot down what he finds on that clipboard of his, and leave. He’s the only consistent human interaction Izuku has besides his mom. Which leads back to his first point: he’s lonely. 

Izuku starts entertaining little scenarios in his head. Mostly about what will happen when he gets discharged. Han’s going to be so mad when he gets back. Izuku has a lot of silent treatment in his future. Mom won’t let him out of her sight for a few days, that much is given, and he’ll feel like a terrible son the entire time for making her worry. He’s resigned to his fate.

The nurse knocks on the door frame, peeking his head in. “I’ve got lunch!” he announces cheerfully, bringing in a tray of hospital food from the cafeteria. “Also, you have a visitor.”

Izuku looks up from his phone right as a familiar face follows in after the nurse. The startled sound that catches in his throat is in no way flattering. “Todoroki!” Izuku fumbles putting his phone away. “H-hi!”

Todoroki takes a seat in one of the visitor chairs, flashing a quick smile that does things to Izuku's heart. It’s a nice smile, sue him. “Iida wanted to visit, but Manual has been swamping him with paperwork.”

Yeah, that makes sense. “What about you?” Izuku asks, picking up his utensils to dig in. “Is Endeavor being difficult?”

“No, he’s been tolerable.” Todoroki’s lips quirk up, “Though if that changes, you can just trip him again.”

Izuku chokes on his noodles. Oh my god, he really went and forgot about that. “I-I-”

“It was surprising.” Todoroki continues, “I could have sworn that we were alone in that hallway, but then there you were.” He keeps his eyes on Izuku’s face, watching his reaction. “Your Quirk, it’s not just super strength, is it?” 

Izuku stares at Todoroki with the absolute guiltiest deer-in-the-headlights expression. He’s gone a decade hiding Notice Me Not, and now someone’s catching on. Has he really been that careless? “...what?”

“It would explain how you got those hits on Stain. One moment you were there, then you were gone. Exactly like in the hallway.” Todoroki keeps his cool the entire time, that’s what’s getting to Izuku the most. He could understand if Todoroki was mad, but he’s not, he’s just stating observations. Izuku doesn’t know what to do with that.

“...” Izuku has a choice. He could lie, or he could tell the truth. Lying will only make Todoroki more suspicious, and the truth? He’d never believe it. So Izuku takes option number three. “My Quirk isn’t like my parents’ at all.” He fiddles with the edge of the blanket. “Mom has telekinesis, dad can breathe fire. I...I can make people forget that I’m there. I thought that was it, but then a few months ago the super strength popped up.” He musters you his best self-deprecating smile, “Honestly? I have no idea what my Quirk can do.” 

It’s an odd feeling, telling Todoroki all of this. He’s now one of the few people that knows about Notice Me Not, even if Izuku was light on the details. In a way it makes them even: Izuku saw those bruises and Todoroki knows his Quirk. The memory alone of the angry purple splotches has Izuku biting the inside of his lip. “Todoroki, we’re friends, right?”

“You saved me from a serial killer.” he deadpans, “I think we are.”

“Ah.” Izuku swallows. This could go well, or it could be a repeat of what happened in the locker room. “How are your bruises?”

Todoroki stiffens in his seat. His hands sit eerily still in his lap. Izuku can see a flash of anger, but he can recognize it as the reflex it is. “They’re healing.” He confesses slowly. “It’s not usually that bad. Endeavor got himself worked up about the festival.” 

Izuku hears this and has to suppress his instinctual urge to grimace. He doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact it happened, or how Todoroki tries to play it off as not a big deal. “It’s messed up, Todoroki. It’s really, really messed up. You’re my friend, I-” His hands clench into fists, “I don’t like it when you’re hurt.” 

“I’m sorry.” Todoroki offers, “If it’s anything like seeing you with a knife in your leg, I’m sorry. But...Endeavor is all I’ve ever known.”

It makes a terrible sort of sense. “Better the monster you know…” Izuku whispers in understanding. At least with Bakugou, he knows what to expect. If you know what’s coming, you can be better prepared for it. “How often is he at the house?” 

“Not often. He’s a pro, he’s got a busy schedule.” Todoroki snorts in derision. His hand comes up to make a dismissive gesture. “Half the time he doesn’t care where I am, as long as I keep up with training.”

Izuku sees the bitter resignation on Todoroki’s face and frowns. It’s hard, feeling like you have to hide. Every moment is a series of questions. Is it safe to let your guard down? What words will keep you out of trouble? Izuku has the blessing of getting to be himself when he gets home. Todoroki has no such thing. “Well, if you ever want to, I’m sure my mom would love to have you over for dinner.”

Todoroki stares at Izuku like he can’t believe he’s real. The utter bewilderment on his face is almost cute. It makes him look more his age. “...I think I’ll take you up on that.” He answers slowly.

Izuku tries to hide just how happy the reply makes him. “I know Han will be happy to see you.” He’s confused when Todoroki smiles at that. “What?”

“Want to know something?” Todoroki leans forward. His face isn’t much closer, but he’s close enough to make Izuku’s heart race. “Endeavor is allergic to cats. After we met at that hero fight, he wouldn’t stop sneezing.” Secret imparted, he smugly leans back in his chair. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Han again, I want to get as much fur on me as possible.”

It’s so petty. It’s so...uniquely Todoroki. Izuku loves it. He loves getting to see the side that only comes out when Todoroki feels safe. “Todoroki,” Izuku says as solemnly as he can, “It would be my honor.” the whole thing would have been a serious moment if Izuku didn’t snort seconds after saying that. The way Todoroki grins more than makes up for it. 

They appreciate the silence between them as Izuku eats. It’s awkward being the only one eating, but when asked Todoroki says he got lunch before he came in. Izuku doesn’t press it and resolves to finish his meal. 

When he finishes, Todoroki speaks. “Let’s make a promise.” 

Izuku tilts his head a little, chewing. 

“Neither of us really know what our Quirks can do.” He continues, “Let’s spar when we figure them out.”

There’s a lot packed into that sentence. Most prevalent is the sheer amount of trust. Todoroki, who’s been neglecting his flames for years, and Izuku, who still hasn’t figured out how to go all-out without breaking his bones. Their collision at the sports festival had been intense. They almost broke the arena, they would have if Cementoss hadn’t intervened. All that power, all that potential. Todoroki inspires Izuku to get better, and Izuku inspires Todoroki to give it his all. 

He isn’t suggesting any simple promise, he’s all but asking Izuku to be his rival. Izuku hasn’t had the best experience with those. His closest version of it would be Bakugou, and even that was one-sided, born from Bakugou’s insecurity and aggression. This feels more level, it lacks animosity. Less putting someone down and more like pushing each other further. 

The thought makes a giddy feeling flutter around in his chest. “I’d like that” Izuku says, “But it might be a while until I stop breaking bones.”

That startles a short laugh from Todoroki. “It’s okay. We have time.” He makes a sound in his throat and fishes for his phone. “ I saw a video last night and thought you’d like it. It’s probably boring, laying down all day.” He pulls out his phone and loads the aforementioned video, adjusting his seat so they both can watch. 

The rest of Todoroki’s visit is spent watching videos and debating on what to watch next. The overall theme is cat videos, and none of them dissapoint. The image the two of them paint must look hilariously normal. That’s fine, Izuku could use some more normal in his life, cause he sure as hell isn’t.

----

Naomasa has read the autopsy report on the Noumu killed in Hosu at least a dozen times. Like the one at the USJ, it shows signs of having multiple Quirks. Meaning that this isn’t some fluke. Somehow, All for One is alive. 

Due to the incredibly public and destructive nature of Hosu attack, it’s all hands on deck for the investigation. The entire precinct has been swamped with work. Detectives have been running themselves into the ground trying to gather what information they could. Forensics is ready to either tear its hair out or burst into tears. And Naomasa? He’s still trying to reconcile the timid yet protective teenager he met with the one who killed a certifiable monster. It was in defense of a civilian, but still. To be forced to kill at such a young age, it’s going to affect Midoriya greatly.

Naomasa decides to send some books on treating PTSD Toshinori’s way. From what little he’s seen of their relationship, Midoriya looks up to Toshinori a great deal. The kid is probably going to have some lingering trauma and Toshinori needs to know what to do. 

Perhaps more worrying than that, though, is the distinct lack of new Wallflower files. Normally, Naomasa wouldn’t be concerned, Wallflower’s drop-offs are sporadic on a good day, but it’s been almost a week and a half since Hosu. The profile they have on their little informant is woefully thin, but he has a habit of delivering relevant information within a few days of a huge case being broadcasted on the news.

It doesn’t matter that Sansa and the other officers show similar concern, Naomasa will not outright say that he is worried. Because while Wallflower is classified as an informant, he’s technically a vigilante. Getting emotionally attached is not professional. Naomasa’s gone over the files, watched the security cameras with almost obsessive diligence, and is on coffee cup number five, but he is not worried. 

It doesn’t help at all that Wallflower is most likely a minor, which is another tally to the list of teenagers risking their lives in a handful of months. Is there something in the water? Is throwing yourself into mortal peril a thing now? Naomasa doesn’t know. Frankly, he’s too tired to find out.

He’s filling out some paperwork when something on his computer screen changes. He spares a quick glance and does a double take at what he sees. There’s a familiar hoodie waiting outside the door. When someone leaves, he slips in before the door closes and starts heading in Naomasa’s direction. Naomasa’s computer screen is facing away from the path Wallflower needs to take in order to find him, so he keeps his eyes glued to the screen. When their mysterious informant is close enough, Naomasa speaks low enough so only they can hear. 

“You’re a little young to be doing this kind of work, Wallflower.” He hears a sharp inhale and finally looks. 

When he’s up close and personal, it really hammers home just how young this kid is. Cause that’s what he is: a kid. The mask covers his face, but the general outline of his cheeks and jaw have too much baby-fat for him to be anything else. He’s clutching a file tightly with small, gloved hands. Wide green eyes stare at him with such blatant fear that he can’t help but say, “It’s okay, I’m not going to arrest you.” Typically, Naomasa avoids those kinds of promises, mostly because he can’t keep them, but he’d like to at least try talking Wallflower out of this before anything else. Wallflower remains where he is, eerily still. If Naomasa can see him, odds are his Quirk is no longer up. 

Naomasa gestures to the spare chair he has in his cubicle. It’s usually for interviewing people reporting a crime, but it’ll do. “You might want to step in, before anyone else sees you.”

The prospect of having more police officers aware of him spurs Wallflower into the cubicle. He never puts his back to Naomasa, even when he has to shuffle his way to the chair. He’s barely touching the seat, if he scoots an inch forward he’ll land flat on his ass. He remains silent. If Naomasa had to hazard a guess, he’d say Wallflower’s probably worried about his voice being used to identify him, the kid’s careful like that. 

Naomasa looks around his desk. “Would you like something to write with?” He finds a somewhat unused stack of post-it notes and a pen. He tests the pen on a corner before holding them both out. He rules it as a small miracle when Wallflower takes them. He agonizes over each letter, deliberately making each hiragana near textbook-perfect to hide his handwriting. Naomasa waits for Wallflower to hold the post-it up for him to see. 

How did you know I was here?

He could lie, but Wallflower is already showing a lot of trust by staying instead of bolting when he’d been found out. Naomasa would hate to break that. “The security feed.” He smiles when Wallflower smacks his forehead. “It’s an interesting Quirk you have. Very useful. But you know it’s illegal to use it like this. Why are you doing it?”

It takes a little longer for Wallflower to respond this time. The League of Villains is a threat. The paper reads, People will get hurt if they don’t get caught soon. I can help, so I do.

Naomasa sees a lot of Toshinori in that response. It’s comforting, he supposes, to know that his friend’s heroic spirit is not unique to him. “Still,” he persists, “You have to know that you could get hurt out there. Could get killed.” 

I’m careful.

“You only need to be caught once.” 

Wallflower’s eyes crinkle, Naomasa can only assume he’s smiling. Don’t worry, detective. I’m faster than you think. He holds his file out, another drawing of a blue hyacinth on the cover. Naomasa’s surprised at the weight of it. Wallflower peels off the few post-its he wrote on and pockets them. He stands, bows politely, then makes for the cubicle’s exit,

“Wait.” Naomasa pinches the bridge of his nose as Wallflower turns around to look at him. “Will you promise that you’ll try to be safe?” Wallflower nods. “If you ever need anything, you can ask me for help, okay?” It’s a little painful to see the surprise in Walllfower’s body language. “That’s all. Stay safe out there.” He turns back to his computer and tries his best to not look back at where Wallflower stands. 

“...Thank you.” The voice is barely above a whisper, Naomasa almost thought he imagined it. He looks back to find empty space. When he looks at the security feed, the kid is already halfway out the door. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was fast. 

Naomasa just prays he won't have to go to a crime scene and find a body with that hoodie. 

----

“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.” Izuku whispers fervently to himself. He’s leaning against one of the alleys a few blocks from the police station. He presses his hands against either side of his face. He’s never dropping off a file so close to the detective again. Ever. He should have known they’d realize Notice Me Not doesn’t work on cameras. But he didn’t, and he just had to go through the most stressful few minutes of his teenage life because of it. 

His leg still aches a little if he puts too much weight on it. The doctor said the stitches could be removed by Recovery Girl in a week. It’s the only reason Izuku didn’t bolt the moment he stepped outside of the precinct. He massages the area around the wound with a grimace. He'll have to take some of the painkillers the doctor gave him, which sucks. They make his head fuzzy and he still has a few assignments he needs to catch up on. 

But it’s not exactly like he could put off delivering that information, either. He spent two entire days once he got home trying to find what he could. Dark web chat groups, hero forum discussions, anything that could be of potential importance. The League keeps escalating its attacks, it won’t be long until there’s a fatality. Izuku’s just gonna have to suck it up and deal. Good thing he’s already got a lot of practice. 

He sheds the mask, shoving it in his pockets with the post-it notes. The hoodie is the next thing to go, tied around his waist as he heads to the opposite end of the alley. He kicks a can with his good leg as he goes, listening to the aluminum clatter down the concrete. 

Naomasa is a good detective, but Izuku doesn’t think he’ll be able to find Wallflower’s identity from their encounter. He pulled out all the stops, refusing to speak and even deliberately changing his handwriting. Yes, he spoke at the very end, but it was far too soft to be distinctive. He reminds himself of this over and over, exiting the alley and merging in with the flow of foot traffic. 

He hops on the bus and takes a seat. Mom is unaware of his little excursion, and she’ll stay unaware since she’s not due home until five. She’d mother him into oblivion if she knew he’d gone outside, much less walked on his leg. 

Han “mrrps” a greeting, weaving between Izuku’s legs as he steps in and closes the door behind him. The fridge has some leftover takeout from last night, he pulls some out and reheats it. When it’s done, he goes to sit down on the couch. Han wants to join him. Specifically, Han wants to jump on his injured leg. There’s some squawking, a lot of flailing, and much protest from Han, but Izuku manages to dodge that particular bullet. Han grumbles about it, but decides that the other, non-injured leg is an acceptable compromise. 

Such is life. 

----

Never in Izuku’s life has a door been more intimidating. He can hear his classmates talking inside, oblivious to Izuku’s ongoing crisis. He wants to use Notice Me Not, but the reaction when it inevitably drops will be worse than just going inside without it. 

Breathe, you idiot. He thinks, biting the edge of his tongue. They’re your classmates. They’re not going to kill you. He deliberately does not think about Bakugou.

All chatter comes to a halt when he steps in. Izuku can feel each and every gaze in the room. Before he can try and do his best impression of a panicked turtle, Uraraka puts herself between him and the forming crowd. “Give him some space, guys. You’re gonna make him panic.” She shoots Izuku a reassuring smile. Knowing she’s at his side, the whole thing doesn’t feel nearly as bad. With Uraraka standing by as a watchful protector, his classmates start asking questions. 

Jirou is one of the few that isn’t in the crowd, choosing to lean on her own desk. “Iida said you got stabbed, did Recovery Girl fix it already?”

“N-no. She said it’s a reminder to be more careful. I’m getting the stitches removed next week.”

“Stitches?” Kirishima whistles, “How bad was it?”

Oof, loaded question. Izuku doesn’t want to say outright that he almost died, but how else if he supposed to answer that? Say it was just a scratch? He has stitches! So his brain, in all it’s dumbness, has him say,  “I’m alive.” like he’s pointing out the bright side. 

“Mood.” 

“Are you gonna participate in hero classes today?”

“Recovery Girl would kill me.” Izuku answers honestly. “She wants me to sit out until the stitches get removed.” Throughout the whole interaction, Izuku’s been keeping track of Bakugou, who’s stayed at his desk the entire time. If they were still in middle school, Bakugou would be raising seven sorts of hell over Izuku getting this much positive attention. The silence is grating on his nerves. Bakugou doesn’t just sit quiet when something pisses him off, and Izuku has ten-plus years of experience saying his very presence pisses Bakugou off like nothing else. 

He’s so invested in his train of thought he’s completely blindsided by Kaminari. 

“Bro, how did you take down a Noumu? The news never said. I mean, don’t get it wrong, it’s damn cool that you did. That thing never saw it coming!”

Izuku knows Kaminari means well, he isn’t the kind of person to trigger something on purpose. All the same, his words send a shock of cold into Izuku’s heart. Avoiding the news stations hadn't been all that hard, in the hospital. His mom also made sure to get him discharged from the hospital before the news reporters could swarm him. Over the last few days, he forgot about Hosu, which was a lot healthier for him at the time. Having it shoved back into the spotlight is...not so nice. 

“Kaminari.” Everyone can physically feel the drop in air temperature. Todoroki appears two feet from Izuku’s side with cold, piercing eyes. Izuku sags in relief. “Stop. He doesn’t need a reminder.” 

“Yeah, dude.” Uraraka hops on to add, “I don’t think he wants to talk about it.” The class as a whole looks from Todoroki, to Uraraka, to Izuku.

Would everyone please stop treating him like a zoo exhibit?

The door slides open, everyone scatters to their seats like startled mice as Aizawa steps in. He has less bandages, but Izuku sees the way he holds his elbow carefully. He eyes them all with the same disinterest he would a half-eaten sandwich and lingers on Izuku. “Problem child, good to see you back in class. Don’t get hospitalized any more this semester.”

The bags under Aizawa’s eyes are darker than normal. Izuku doesn’t presume it’s because of him, but he still feels bad as he sinks into his seat. “Yes, sir.” He turns around long enough to mouth “thank you” to Todoroki. Then his leg twinges and he has to turn back around, though not before he sees Todoroki’s smile. 

Classes are normal, which Izuku appreciates. What he doesn’t appreciate is the staring. They’re not too obvious about it, but he’s had years of observing practice. Kaminari fiddles guiltily with his pencil, glancing at Izuku every now and then. Izuku knows he’s going to hear an apology before the day is through. 

While Kaminari is the most obvious offender, Izuku catches every other look his classmates send him. Most of them are curious, except Bakugou, who’s making great progress attempting to set Izuku’s clothes on fire with his eyes. Surprisingly enough, he’s not too worried about it now. Bakugou’s already been chewed out by Aizawa about fighting classmates, their teacher won’t be nearly as forgiving the second time around. So things probably won’t come to blows on campus, but the knowledge that Todoroki would defend him is comforting. 

Either way, the general energy of the class is grating. Everyone’s acting like a stiff breeze would break him. Physical therapy is a bitch, yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely invalid.  Izuku ignores the throbbing in his leg as he bounces it under his desk. 

Lunch is a welcome escape. No one joins them outside at the lunch table, leaving Izuku with his friends. Not to say he’s not friendly with the others! It’s just..Izuku puts more weight on the word “friend” than most, his other classmates are more like acquaintances. If he hung out with them more, he’s sure they’d fall into the friend category. As it is...they’re nice, but not his friends.

Urakaka is a master distractor. Any subject she brings up is pounced on. Which is how they end up debating at least half a dozen questions, the most notable being “Do pigeons have feelings?”

Izuku says yes. The bafflement on Todoroki and Iida’s faces makes up for the day’s rough start.

Eventually though, even Uraraka’s cheeriness fades. “I was really worried about you guys.” She says, “You could’ve gotten really hurt. And Midoriya, you could’ve-- could’ve--” She sniffs, looking up at the sky to keep her eyes dry. “Don’t be so reckless, okay?”

“I’ll try.” Izuku feels bad, but he can’t give her that promise, not when he’s so likely to break it. “But that’s why I’ve got you guys. Someone’s gotta keep me out of trouble.”

Todoroki huffs. Izuku dares to say his smile is fond. “I don’t think any of us knew what we were getting into.” 

Izuku’s head is running in circles trying to tell if that’s sarcastic or not. The optimistic side of him says it’s not. He grins sheepishly, hopefully. “Well, you’re stuck with me.”

“I think I’m okay with that.”

Chapter Text

Paper sprawls over the kitchen table, placed strategically around the cups of ice water so nothing gets wet. The clouds outside are thick as honey, and what few rays break through paint what they hit golden. One beam in particular slinks in through the window, hitting the blue plastic of their cups at just the right angle to sprawl patterns on the table’s surface. Izuku zones in on those patterns, trying to ignore how close Todoroki is sitting next to him. 

“What’d you get for number 17?” He tries for nonchalant, but it comes out too nervous. 

Todoroki looks up from his own worksheet and motions for Izuku to give him the paper. “Let me see.” Suddenly, Izuku wishes he had better handwriting. Todoroki looks carefully at his work and the haphazard steps he tried to write out as he did the problem. “Here.” He holds the eraser side of his pencil to a spot early on in Izuku’s work. “You put the decimal in the wrong place.” 

Izuku takes back his paper and sees exactly where he went wrong. “Oh.” scritch scritch scritch. Izuku dusts away the little bits of eraser and re-does the entire problem. “Is this right?” He was expecting Todoroki to take the paper from him again, not lean over and decidedly into Izuku’s personal bubble. Close. Way too close. Izuku focuses on Han, who he is now face-to-face with. The cat blinks, gently papping a paw onto Izuku's cheek. Appreciated, Han, but not what he’s looking for

Izuku manages to avoid self-imploding long enough for Todoroki to lean back into his own seat. “It’s right. You wouldn’t make simple mistakes like that if you went slower.”

Izuku taps his pencil on the paper. “I-I know that, in theory. It’s hard to put into practice.” 

Todoroki cocks his head, pressing Han further into his shoulder. He says, “I suppose.” and they both get back to work on their respective problems. Izuku has to take a few deep breaths to cool his heated face. 

He ends up finishing the homework a little while after Todoroki, through no fault of his own. He was distracted...by looking at Todoroki. Happy isn’t the word, but Todoroki looks content, sitting here with Izuku while Han sprawls over him. At school he always looks shut-off. Not quite cold, but definitely not open. Now that he's here, Izuku can see something softer in him. Warm, almost. 

Han’s tail curls over Todoroki’s collarbone, he reaches up to fiddle with it as he scratches the cat’s only ear. Izuku feels something tighten in his chest at the sight, unpleasant and burning hot. Todoroki doesn’t look up from what he’s doing when he asks, “Uraraka said that you chose a hero name. What is it?”

Ah, Izuku didn’t realize he hadn’t told Todoroki. Then again, he wasn’t very vocal about it. Uraraka only knows because he used her as a sounding board. Biting his lip, Izuku is careful not to trip up his words, “Lodestarr. With an extra ‘r’.” Now that he’s going it’s hard to stop, “I actually wanted to change my hero costume, too. Make it match my name, you know?” He spent a lot of time thinking about his name, he might as well make his costume match. Maybe he’s being vain, but the sweater-biker jacket hybrid from before doesn’t exactly scream “Lodestarr”. 

Todoroki nods, still not looking at Izuku. “Makes sense. But why the extra ‘r’?”

Izuku swallows. “It stands for ‘rogue’. A villain at the USJ called me that.” He can still remember how it felt to have red, red eyes scraping away at his skin. Looking for something Izuku can’t even begin to guess. “I wanted to remind myself.” 

The USJ tested his convictions in ways Bakugou and all his bullies couldn’t. The desperation he felt in that moment, the sheer will to survive as he stood between Shigaraki and his classmates. But even then, Izuku failed: he still got grabbed; and Eraserhead paid for his mistake. He never wants to mess up like that again. So every time he looks at his hero name, he’ll know, and he’ll remember. 

Todoroki humms, eyes finally straying from Han to look at Izuku. Between the piercing blue and warm grey, Izuku feels the urge to avert his gaze. “I understand that. What did you have in mind for your costume?”

“W-well, uh.” The ninth user of One for All, rendered useless by a look. “Maybe something darker? I want to be able to use my Quirk effectively. Dark colors help.” Anything bright tends to draw attention and keep it, better to go with something more low-key. Mom helped him with the design of his other hero costume, she’ll be happy to help with this one, too. 

Izuku’s chest warms with the memory. He and mom sat down at this very table and brainstormed long into the night, writing down what sounded good and sometimes scrapping ideas entirely. They always went to bed tired but accomplished, and Izuku always made sure to wake up early and brew her some coffee as a thank you.

Hero names and costumes aside, right now, his main question is whether or not he should keep the taser. It‘s come in handy on multiple occasions, catching both Kurogiri and Shigaraki off guard at the USJ and...killing the Noumu in Hosu. There’s no denying that it’s useful. Even so, Izuku can’t bring himself to look at it. 

He ended a life with that taser, a monstrous one, but a life all the same. It had been instinct, too, to single out the brain. A vital organ. What if he does that to another villain? One that isn’t hulking and semi-human, but a thinking, breathing person? He doesn't want to wield that thing until he’s absolutely sure he can trust himself again. 

Han is deposited on his lap with a little mrrp? , belly up and stretched out for maximum coverage. Izuku blinks and starts gently scratching Han’s chest. He looks up atTodoroki.

“You were thinking too much.” Is all he has to say. 

Yeah, he was, wasn't he? Izuku focuses on how Han’s fur feels under his fingers and breathes for a little bit. “S-sorry. It’s just-- I can’t stop thinking about Hosu. About…” He feels Todoroki place a hand on his shoulder. The point of contact almost burns, even though Izuku knows Todoroki isn’t using his Quirk. 

“A lot happened. I was scared, too. It’s not something we can just forget.” Todoroki seems to realize he still has his hand on Izuku’s shoulder and takes it off. Izuku misses the warmth almost immediately. “You can take time to process.” 

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Izuku’s done nothing but take his time lately. His leg’s mostly healed now and he’s been cleared for light exercise, he wants -- needs -- something to do. The adults tell him to stay out of it, that they’ll handle things, but they don’t have a Quirk like his, they can’t get in close and gather information the way he does as Wallflower. He’s not delusional, he knows Naomasa and the police force would find these leads eventually, but Izuku sped the process up whenever he dropped off a file, and that made him feel good, useful, like he was making a difference. 

But he can’t think about only himself. He’s got mom, his friends, All Might, Gran Torino. They’re all worried about him, especially after Hosu. So what does Izuku value more: his loved ones’ peace of mind, or going out to roam the streets and maybe, hopefully find something useful?

He hates how he can’t even give himself an answer. 

“I guess I’m not very patient.” Is what Izuku eventually says. 

Todoroki humms, checking his phone for the time. “I should head out soon. Fuyumi is making dinner. I don’t want to be late.” He starts to pack up, gently rebutting Han’s attempts to get back on his shoulders. “I’ll let you know how many times Endeavor sneezes when he comes home.”

The record is seven - five of which were in a row. Todoroki had looked very pleased with himself at school the day after. Izuku remembers the bruises and knows that Endeavor deserves worse than some aggravated allergies, but it’s still a win, one Todoroki needs. Izuku lived off the small victories, back in middle school. Little things that wouldn’t matter at all to Bakugou or the other bullies, but meant something to him . A small affirmation that they weren’t perfect, weren’t untouchable. 

Feline-assisted vengeance. In theory? Perhaps a little silly, but you can’t deny the results. It’s an inconvenience for Endeavor, but it brings some amusement to Todoroki - and that’s no small victory. 

Izuku walks Todoroki to the door, Han in his arms. He doesn’t trust the cat not to try and follow out the door, Han is needy like that. “I’ll-- I'll see you tomorrow.” Izuku says.

Todoroki nods and opens the door. “Yeah.” He pauses, then raises his hand up, curling it into a fist. “Uraraka said this’s a ‘fist bump’.” he explains when Izuku stares at the hand a little too long. 

“Oh!” Izuku feels himself die a little at the awkward air between them. He wriggles a hand free from holding Han and bumps Todoroki’s fist with his own. “Let me know when you get home, okay?” They both live in relatively peaceful neighborhoods, but the commute goes through some pretty hectic spots. Izuku knows Todoroki can take care of himself, but after the Hero-Killer, everyone in their group is a little nervous about leaving each other alone. Brushes with death will do that. 

“I will.” Todoroki agrees, “Take care, Midoriya.” For a second, his lips twitch up into something soft, hesitant. It makes his entire face gentler. Izuku finds himself wishing Todoroki would smile like that more. Then Todoroki’s gone, the door shutting behind him. 

Izuku looks down at Han, who looks up at him. “I’m thinking Endeavor’s gonna sneeze eight times.” he tells the cat. “You were all over Todoroki today, you little traitor.” just how Han betrayed him, Izuku doesn’t know, but he did.

Han wriggles out of his arms and uses his shoulder as a springboard onto the couch. There’s no respect in this house. Izuku shakes his head and goes to his room to put his math notebook back in his backpack. He pauses after he zips it back up. He can see the nondescript box he keeps his Wallflower gear in, tucked neatly under his bed and behind some stray pieces of dirty laundry. The hoodie needs a wash, but Izuku’s got a baseball cap from what mom says was his dad’s alumni. It’ll have to do. 

He shouldn't. It’s dangerous, and he’s only just started to use his leg for anything more than walking. If he gets into trouble he’s going to need Full Cowl, and explaining how he re-injured himself would be hell. Gran alone would probably put him back in a hospital bed.

Izuku looks out his window. The city has a lot of people living in it. A lot of people like that student Izuku saved in Hosu. Civilians don’t have training, they rely on the heroes to keep them safe from villains. The police have their place, but the League is an all hands on deck sort of problem. Hosu was bad, it was bad and Izuku had no idea it was going to happen. If he had the information, if he knew beforehand, maybe he wouldn’t have had to kill the Noumu. 

Izuku reaches out for the box with his guilt weighing every move. 

----

It’s heartbreakingly easy to lie to mom about where he’s going. One quick text of “going for a jog” is met with a “be safe sweetie! Don’t push yourself!” followed by a smiley emoticon. He’s a terrible son, taking advantage of her trust like this, but it doesn’t stop him from hopping on the transit and riding it to Yokohama. He found the old League base there, and the police should be done with their investigation by now. Izuku can go in and see if he can find anything for an investigation of his own. He mentally kicks himself for not doing it sooner, but there’s no use dwelling on it. He has work to do. 

The alley has somehow gotten even worse without the League hanging around. Beer bottles and the distinct smell of piss linger along the seams between concrete and building. There’s a few pieces of police tape left behind - little bits that tore off when the investigators took it down. The dumpster is already pushed to the side, which saves Izuku some effort. A big “DO NOT ENTER” sign has been nailed to the door of the old hideout, a fat lot of good it does when Izuku creaks the door open. 

The few working lights flicker on when Izuku hits the switch. There are a few stray pieces of furniture, but most of what used to be here was either taken by the League or confiscated by the police. Even with the mask on, Izuku’s nose itches from all the dust floating around.

He searches the main room first, pressing the floorboards experimentally to see if there were any hidden compartments. He does this from one side of the room to the other and finds three creaky floorboards, but no compartment. Then he tries looking behind the bar. While the rest of the place has some kind of dust around it, this side of the room managed to stay clean. Whoever worked it was meticulous when it came to their glassware, too. Izuku almost leaps onto the counter when he catches his own reflection in one of the beer glasses. 

Aside from the dedicated barkeep, Izuku learns nothing from the bar. He wanders into the hallway next, seeing two rooms on either side of it with one door at the very end of the hall. He sneezes three seconds into entering room one. And he thought the bar was dusty. This was Shigaraki’s room, it had to be. It’s a strange feeling, standing where that man must’ve slept, vaguely disturbing - like he’s walking over a grave. There’s nothing of note excluding the extreme piles of dust brushed off to the corners of the room. Izuku leaves. 

Room two was more for storage. The shelves are as tall as the ceiling, but as bare as the day they were built. Izuku crouches down to check and see if anything rolled under them. Aside from a few dust bunnies, nothing. 

Izuku lets out a frustrated sound as he closes the door behind him. He turns and rests his head against the wall, glaring down at his own feet. This is stupid. Trained detectives and forensics teams have already combed through this place, what will Izuku’s search dig up that they don’t already have on file? He can’t offer anything to this, he just wanted to get out of the house. He wanted to feel useful. All he got was the glaring reminder that Wallflower is only good for delivering tips and pointing the police in what is probably, hopefully, the right direction. 

Izuku turns his head towards the one door he hasn’t entered yet. It’s the only door lacking wear and tear, unnaturally pristine amongst the dust and abandoned atmosphere. He feels something like fear skitter up the nape of his neck the longer he stares at it. Fear, or the sense of being watched. It should be concerning how similar those feelings are for him. The doorknob is cool in his hand, turning with a little squeak of metal. The door swings open, letting the dim lighting overhead leak through. 

It’s spartan in appearance. A table is set up in the corner, the accompanying chair tucked in. What catches Izuku’s eye is the TV monitor sitting on the desktop. The chill from before returns, racing down his nerves and making his fingers tremble. Izuku catches himself holding his breath and takes a steadying gulp of air as he steps over the threshold. Nothing happens, Izuku focuses on controlling his breath as he wanders further in, scanning the corners and the nook behind the door. Nothing. The thrum of Notice Me Not sounds like static now, fritzing with his nerves as he walks even closer to the TV. 

It’s an old model, the kind that his elementary school teachers would roll out if they were going to watch a video for the day. The thing is still plugged in, Izuku notes, staring at the little cord that winds down to an outlet. Odd. He steps forward again, reaching for the bottom left drawer. He sighs in resignation when all that greets him is an empty inside. 

The TV splutters to life with a heartstopping burst of static. Izuku flinches back with a yelp, flailing to keep his balance. A voice comes in through the speakers, distorted just enough to sound like a demon straight out of hell.

“You should know better than to go snooping, Midoriya Izuku.” 

Izuku’s body locks up. His hands, which were trembling seconds before, don’t even twitch as he feels the full force of this stranger’s attention. It’s like that part in a nature documentary when the bumbling deer realizes it’s face-to-face with a wolf. 

“Yes, I know your name. I also know you’ve been sniffing around Shigaraki’s projects. Such a curious child. You fancied yourself untouchable, that you wouldn’t get caught.” An amused huff bursts from the speakers. “I’ve seen this song and dance before. Would you like to know how it ends? I think I’ll leave it to your imagination, little Wallflower.”
    The TV static harmonizes with the white noise ringing in Izuku’s ears. He’s pinned in place, head filling with all kinds of terrible thoughts. Even if he could get his legs to move, it would be useless. His name, his alias, this person knows; and if they know that, they probably know where he lives, too. 

Izuku left mom home alone. 

He’s going to puke. 

“You understand the gravity of your situation.” The voice observes, “Good.” There’s no humor, just clinical observation. “I’m not in the habit of killing children. It’s more trouble than it’s worth. So I’ll give you a chance: run. If you’re found snooping again, you’ll be dealt with accordingly. I have no reason to use what I know against you, but that can change. Whether or not it does is up to you.” 

The TV stutters and shuts off, leaving Izuku alone in the decrepit room. It takes a few tries before his legs listen to him, and when they do it’s hard to get them to stop. He turns and bolts like a frightened hare, clipping his shoulder against the doorframe in his haste. He doesn’t feel it, he just wants to get out. 

The stale alleyway air feels like heaven in his lungs, anything to get rid of the aftertaste of dust. The bar door slams shut behind him, the Keep Out sign mockingly highlighted by the overhead bulb. Izuku hits the opposite wall and tries to focus on breathing. His stomach roils, and he doubles over as he vomits. In some twisted form of luck, none of it hits his shoes. He starts dry-heaving after the second round, the taste of bile rots on his tongue. He leans against the wall, his eyes closed as he tries to get himself to calm down. 

“Are you okay-?” Someone puts their hand on Izuku’s shoulder. There’s a yell of surprise as Izuku jerks back from the touch, and Izuku watches the stranger try and fail to catch their balance. The stranger falls backwards, their head clipping the side of the dumpster pushed off to the side. 

Izuku feels like throwing up all over again. “I-I’m sorry. You startled me.” With wobbly legs, he walks over and offers his hand out. “I, uh…”

The stranger doesn’t hear a word that’s coming out of his mouth. He’s wearing a button-down and jeans over a strange looking full-body suit with bulky wrist pieces and opaque lenses. The fall tore a small hole near his scalp, Izuku can see sandy blond hair peek through. The stranger clutches at his head with both hands, smothering the tear with frantic movements, muttering all the while.
    “No, no no no no nononono. Gotta- cover. I need cover.”

Izuku stares at the tear. Slowly, he takes off his baseball cap and looks at it. It’ll be big on the guy - it’s huge on Izuku, even when he tightens it as far as it can go - but it should cover up his hair. The fact it used to belong to his dad doesn’t play much of a factor in his decision. Izuku loosens the back of the cap and rests it on the stranger’s head. “H-here. You can use my hat.”

The man grabs at the hat like a lifeline, pulling it down against his head. His posture settles down into something calmer, less panicked. He looks up. Izuku can’t see his eyes, but the way those lenses have widened to a comical degree emphasize his emotion. “You’re a good kid.” The stranger declares. Then, just as fast, “Kids these days! Shoving people into dumpsters! Rude little bastards, the lot of you.” 

Izuku bites the inside of his lip. “Y-yeah, that was rude of me. Are you okay?”

The stranger springs back up, placing his hand on his hips in a comics-esque superhero pose. “Right as rain now!” He fiddles with the brim of the cap, “Thanks for the save!” Then, quiter, “Not a lot of people woulda stuck around.”

And Izuku can get that. He clears his throat, wincing at the burn. “It was my fault for knocking you over. You can keep the hat, I don’t really need it.” The alley’s lighting is dim enough for Izuku’s hair to be mistaken for black, he’s not worried about it being used to identify him. Then he remembers what exactly made him throw up in the first place and has to shove his nausea back down. “Look, sir. I-I really have to go. My- “ Mom. Mom’s waiting for him and she’s alone and the League or someone League-adjacent knows and-- “I gotta go.” He finishes.

The stranger waves him off. “Yeah. No worries, kid. I wouldn’t wanna stick around here, either, even without the puke.” he looks to the door, and the Keep Out sign nailed to the front. “Damn. Guess I took a lil’ too long. Look, kid.” He takes a sticky note out from an unseen pocket and procures a pen. “Here,” He hands the note to Izuku, it’s got an address listed. “My suit’s gonna need repairs tomorrow. Pop by any time after that to get your hat back.” His tone changes, “Show up or don’t, I don’t care either way.”

The paper wrinkles in Izuku’s fingers. He would reply, but his head keeps filling with images of mom waiting for him on the couch. Instead, he nods. He flicks Notice Me Not on the moment the stranger looks away and speeds out of the alley as fast as his leg will allow. It throbs with the strain from running out of the League’s base, forcing him to limp strangely to alleviate the pain. 

Sitting down on the train, Izuku pulls his phone out of his pocket and punches in a familiar number. It gets to three rings before she picks up. 

“Izuku?” 

He slumps in his seat at the sound of mom’s voice. He wipes at the corner of his eyes and tries to hide how tight his throat feels. He goes for chipper, “Hey mom! Just calling to let you know I’m on my way back. Won’t be more than half an hour.”

“Okay, sweetie. I’ll wait for you.”

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” They exchange goodbyes and hang up. Izuku stares at the phone, covering the lower half of his face with the palm of his hand. 

The man behind the Tv screen was right: Izuku really did think no one would catch him, or that if they did, he’d have the advantage of anonymity. But he was wrong and it bit him in the butt tonight. Whoever that guy is, he’s got some sort of contact in the police force, that’s the only way he could’ve gotten the name Wallflower. Security feed and pictures could prove that Izuku shows up when viewed through technology, but Wallflower was a name he only used with detective Naomasa. He can’t meet with the detective in the precinct anymore. Too many cameras, too many eyes and ears. 

He makes sure to lock the door behind himself when he gets back home, for all the good it might do. Mom’s waiting for him on the couch, no one else is inside the apartment. He checks three times just to be sure. 

The shower rinses off any residual stench of back-alley, sweat and dust. After brushing his teeth, Izuku feels a little more human. He stares up at the ceiling from his bed, tucked in under the covers but still feeling exposed. 

    “You should know better than to go snooping, Midoriya Izuku.” 

    He’s really gone and done it this time. He doesn’t even want to look at the hoodie he’s tossed in the laundry bin. His heart chills in his chest whenever he so much as thinks about stepping outside the apartment in it. 

The man didn’t care that Izuku was Wallflower, just that Izuku was looking into the League. There’s nothing stopping him from going out again, but what if Izuku stumbles on something associated with the league without realizing it? He doesn’t know where the line is, the man behind the TV was vague -- something that was probably on purpose, now that Izuku thinks about it. Izuku went into this knowing it wasn't safe, but now that consequences have found him, it's more than a passive thought.

Is he putting his mom in danger by being Wallflower?

No matter what he decides on for Wallflower, he's going to have to tell detective Tsukauchi something. Izuku doesn't want to drop off the face of the earth with no warning, and the man deserves to know there's a mole in his precinct.

Izuku sighs and drags his covers over his head. He closes his eyes, trying to shut down his haywire thoughts and maybe get some rest before morning.

-----

Naomasa lets out a jaw-cracking yawn as he enters the precinct. The sun has barely started to peek over the horizon, and he’s positively dreaming about the crappy coffee in the breakroom. It’s sludge, but it’s sludge that could wake the dead. 

He makes a quick stop at the coffeemaker before he gets to his desk. In that time, another file has appeared on his desk; one he knew for a fact wasn’t there when he passed it before. Naomasa sees a blue hyacinth drawn on the cover and sighs out his nose. He’s a mix of glad and disappointed: glad because the file is a sign that the kid didn’t end up dead in an alley, and disappointed because seriously, does this kid even sleep? 

The folder crinkles as Naomasa opens it up. Seems pretty standard, he thinks as he files through it. Sightings of suspects with warrants, notes on any drug deals he spotted. Nothing on the League though. Even then he doesn’t have anything of substance, Wallflower leaves some speculation on the League. Motivations, disposition, anything that could be parsed out from the talk along the alleys. The psych-eval team loves it when Naomasa passes them whatever’s written down. Yet this time there’s nothing. Not so much as a passing mention. 

Naomasa flips to the final page and sees a sticky note on the back of the folder. 

“OPEN IF ALONE. NO CAMERAS.”

Naomasa shifts in his seat, blocking the sticky note from view of the precinct camera in the corner of the room. The sticky note is covering another sticky note, one that makes him take a sharp inhale. 

It’s a drawing of a mole wearing a police hat. Under the drawing is a set of coordinates, written down with painstaking care to fit on the paper. “6 PM tonight. Take route with minimal cameras. Don’t want them to see us meet. -- Wallflower”

Naomasa memorizes the coordinates before plucking the sticky note off the page and tearing it up. He stores the shreds in his pocket and stares long and hard into the folder still laying on his desk. Wallflower’s bringing a serious accusation to Naomasa, but he wouldn’t do it without reason. Something happened to make him believe there was an information leak. Something bad enough to scare him into meeting face to face, which he’s only done once before, and that was because Naomasa caught him. 

The kid’s gotten himself into something deep, he just knows it. Come 6 PM he'll know how much. 

----

Izuku didn’t wake up so much as he jerked into awareness, his heart sending a bolt of cold through his chest. The feeling hasn’t gone away since. The precinct, school, the fucking bathroom. Nothing he does helps.

He thought he knew anxiety. He thought he knew fear. Oh, how naive he’d been. He can barely focus in class. He crushes the urge to check over his shoulder every time he walks down the hall. It takes all his will to sit still and shove down the bile burning at the back of his throat. Eraserhead took one look at him and asked if he needed to see the nurse.

“I’m okay.” He lies straight through his teeth, “Just didn’t get much sleep last night.” That, at least, is true. Eraserhead drops the topic and goes back to teaching, but Izuku can feel his friends stare a bit longer. 

He hates it. He hates being so aware of his heartbeat. Even when he tries to focus on the class, he can hear it in his ears: the steady, frantic thump-thump behind his ribs. His jaw’s starting to ache, and his fingers twitch to do something, anything. But doing something is what got him into this mess. He wanted to help, wanted to use his Quirk to do what others couldn’t and it attracted the wrong kind of attention. Now he has to sit here and pretend that nothing’s wrong while in his head he’d rather be hiding in the deepest, darkest hole he can find. Instead, he’s fighting off an anxiety attack because he’s an idiot who doesn’t know when he’s in too deep till it’s too late. 

He hopes mom is okay.

The first bell rings. Izuku sighs and lays his head down on his arms, staring down at the desk as he focuses on his breathing. He’s got 5 minutes until the next class starts, maybe he can get some fraction of control over himself by then. No one bothers him. By the time he looks up, his shoulders are less tense. He can stop focusing on keeping his jaw unclenched, but the ache under his cheekbones stays. 

Izuku savors the breeze when he steps outside, closing his eyes as it plays with his fringe. His social battery is running near-empty, but he wants to sit with his friends. He wants their company, the comfort of their presence, but he knows they’ll have questions he can’t answer. He can’t resist, he starts heading towards their usual table.

Everyone’s already there, unpacking their lunch and chattering. They go quiet when they notice Izuku approach. “Hey guys.” He says, sitting down next to Todoroki. He keeps his eyes down and focuses on unpacking his own lunch. 

Uraraka’s the one to bite the bullet and ask. “Are you okay, Midoriya?”

Izuku takes a deep breath. “I…” Even thinking about last night makes his heart panic, “I don’t really wanna talk about it. I-if that’s okay.”

Iida’s lips thin. “You don’t have to. But we’re here if you need us, Midoriya. Remember, it goes both ways.”

Izuku remembers their conversation in the hospital and nods. He has good friends, he decides. Maybe if he waters it down, he could tell them some of what’s bothering him, but they can’t know the full scope. Between Wallflower and One for All, the man in the TV and the residual trauma from Hosu, there’s not enough time in the week. 

Todoroki nods with a mouthful of soba. Swallowing, he offers a change in subject, “Do you want to hear about what happened when I got home?” Both Iida and Uraraka look at him, questions written on their faces. 

Izuku takes it. “Yeah. Han was all over you this time. Way more than usual.” He still hasn’t forgiven Han for betraying him like that. Izuku doesn’t even have a name for how the cat betrayed him, only that he did.

“Endeavor is allergic to cats,” Todoroki explains to his captive audience of three. “I come over to Midoriya’s to study and his cat likes to sit in my lap. We try to see how many times I can make Endeavor sneeze when I come home.” 

Uraraka’s face lights up with glee for every word that leaves Todoroki’s mouth. “What’s the record?” She asks. 

“It used to be seven.” Todoroki takes another bite of his food, letting them stew in anticipation. “When I got home last night I rubbed my jacket on the couch and left it on a kitchen chair. He sneezed ten times.”

Izuku can picture it now. Endeavor, sitting on the couch and trying to figure out why he’s sneezing. It even lifts his mood a bit, letting him smile without a tinge of anxiety. Uraraka infects the air with a snort. Even when she tries to cover it up with her hand, they leak out past her fingers. 

Todoroki nudges Izuku, the tiniest smile on his face. Izuku wasn’t imagining it: Todoroki’s definitely sitting closer than before. The sun hitting his hair just right, the smell of food in the air and the presence of good company. Izuku can’t tell if his face is warm or if it’s just that hot out here. 

His anxiety is more low key throughout the rest of the day, manageable, even. When he gets home it’s four o’clock, two yours before he meets up with the detective. He manages to get most of his homework done before his alarm rings at 5:15. He ignores how his hands are already shaking as he pulls on his - now washed - hoodie and ties his shoelaces. You’re the one who set this up, he thinks to himself, you can’t just not show up, even when it’s sorely tempting. 

The door clicks shut behind him. He stares out at the evening sun and lets Notice Me Not cover him. The path to Dagobah Beach is a bit of a hike, especially if he wants to avoid any CCTV, it’d be rude to keep Tsukauchi waiting. 

----

Dagobah beach has had one hell of a makeover the last few months. Naomasa has time to appreciate it as he walks along the pristine coast. He takes Wallflower's note to heart and takes the less-monitored sidestreets, entering the beach a good half-kilometer from the coordinates on Wallflower’s note. Wallflower never tells them something without good reason, if he thinks they might be watched it’s best to err on the side of caution. Naomasa wears a polo and jeans, different enough from his usual button up and tie to throw off any potential tails. 

It’s a rare day where no one’s set up on the beach. No joggers, no tourists, just an empty expanse of coarse sand and the rising tide. Between one blink and the next, Naomasa’s eyes register a familiar hoodie leaning against the sea wall. He’s not close enough to see the fine details, but they’re looking his way. Naomasa approaches, stopping six feet away, close enough to be heard, but not close enough to be considered a threat. “Wallflower.” he says in lieu of a greeting. 

Wallflower dips his head, acknowledging him. He’s positioned in such a way he can see anyone who approaches, and Naomasa can see his hands balled up in the pockets of his hoodie. His shoulders are tense, and he can’t hide how his eyes flicker to their surroundings every few seconds. He looks hunted. A bad feeling starts to whirl in the back of Naomasa’s mind. 

“I took the backroads to get here.” Naomasa tells Wallflower, trying to keep his tone conversational rather than interrogating. Best to probe around, see what he can get without upsetting the kid and making him run. “You were very careful with that note of yours. I have to thank you for that.” If word got out in the precinct that there was a mole, the culprit either would’ve bolted or started to target Wallflower. Neither of those options are ideal. 

Wallflower relaxes the more he talks. Naomasa risks a stop forward and is rewarded with no reaction. “Your information has helped us.” Naomasa Isn't afraid to admit it. He’ll always give credit where it’s due, and Wallflower has worked harder than any informant he’s ever had. “But you’re putting yourself at risk.” Wrong thing. Wallflower jerks like he’s been shot. “Look,” He says, running a hand along the side of his head, “I’m worried about you. Something you saw scared you bad enough to arrange this meeting. I just- if you’re in trouble, you can tell me. I want to help, but only if you’ll let me. You’re just a kid, I won’t arrest you.” He’s seen his fair share of kids who got wrapped up in the wrong crowd, and it so rarely ended well. If he tries to be stern, Wallflower will never reach out to him again. Best to remind him that there are adults who care. 

Wallflower inspects Naomasa’s face, deep green eyes darkened by the hood of his jacket. They’re looking for something, and whatever it is he must find it. “...Promise?” His voice cracks at the beginning.

Naomasa swallows and nods. “I swear on my life. Wallflower, if you’re in trouble… please, tell me.”

Wallflower closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. His hands leave their pockets, reaching up to tug the hoodie down and the face mask off. It takes a second, but he remembers that head of green hair, and those freckles. 

Good god, Toshinori really knows how to pick them. 

“I really messed up, detective.” Midoriya Izuku chokes.

Chapter Text

Detective Tsukauchi’s apartment is as minimalist as Izuku expected. Warm toned walls with maybe one or two photographs hung up, but for the most part bare. The coffee table doesn’t have any magazines or decor, Izuku’s not sure why he expected there to be any. 

Izuku picks at his fingernails while making these observations. It’s not a good habit, and he’s been better about it lately, but sitting here on Detective Tsukauchi’s couch has him relapsing. He doesn’t stop, even when pain shoots down his finger. Compared to broken bones, a bleeding fingernail isn’t too bad. He’s probably going to regret the hangnail though. 

Tsukauchi comes back from the kitchen holding a packet of crackers and two cups of water. He furrows his brow when he sees what Izuku’s doing. “Stop that.” He says, putting everything down on the coffee table. He sighs when Izuku flinches. “Stay here for a sec.” He gets back up to rummage through a cabinet. When he returns, he has a yellow smiley stress ball in one hand and a bandaid in another. “Hold out your hands.” He instructs. Izuku does. Tsukauchi places the stress ball in Izuku’s non-injured hand and gently wraps his bleeding finger with the bandaid. “There you go.” The man sits down on the couch opposite to Izuku. “You already know what I’m going to say.” 

Izuku has an idea, yes. He catches himself right before he picks at his index finger and squeezes the stress ball instead. “He’s going to be mad.” he mumbles, looking away. All Might has spent so much time and effort on Izuku, and Izuku snubbed it all by doing all of this. 

“He might be a little mad.” Tsukauchi agrees, “But I’ve known Toshinori longer than you, Midoriya. He’s going to be more worried than angry, I promise.”

That’s worse, actually. Izuku squeezes the stress ball as tight as he can. All Might saw something worthwhile in him, what if this proves he was wrong? He’s spent so much time on Izuku, so much effort. Has Izuku been wasting his time? The thought makes Izuku want to turn on Notice Me Not and live as a hermit. 

“We don’t have to tell him today, you’ve had a rough go of it.” Tsukauchi reminds him gently. “But you’ve been compromised, Midoriya. You’ll be safer the sooner Toshinori knows what’s going on. We can’t help if we’re kept in the dark, and I think you know that. You wouldn’t have scheduled that meeting otherwise.”

See, he knows that, but telling someone was so much easier in theory. Now there’s fallout, broken trust - trust that Izuku took advantage of. He bites his lip. “...I’m scared for mom,” he admits. “I’m scared I’m going to come home and she’s- she’s--”

“That won’t happen.” Tsukauchi assures, “We can move you both to an apartment complex with a heavy hero presence. It’s as close to witness protection as you can get without actually being in witness protection.” 

But they've lived in their apartment since forever. Izuku whines in the back of his throat, dropping the stress ball to clutch at his hair. “I’m so stupid, detective. I got myself in trouble and I got mom in trouble and we’re gonna have to move and-” It’s getting harder to breathe. Izuku pulls harder at his hair, scrunching his eyes shut as he draws into himself. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” There’s a hand on Izuku’s back, broad and warm and moving in circles. “Midoriya, you’re having an anxiety attack,” Tsukauchi tells him, “You need to breathe with me, okay? In and out, Midoriya. Come on.” He starts taking deep breaths. Izuku does his best to match it but stuttering sobs keep shaking the air out of his chest. 

He keeps thinking about the bar. About that unfeeling screen and that cursed voice. That man was amused by Izuku. Izuku knows nothing about him, he didn’t even know he was being watched. Meanwhile, this man knows everything. Izuku’s exposed. Someone saw him, even after he tried so hard to hide. Was Izuku ever hiding at all? Or was this man letting him run around like a chicken with its head cut off, pulling strings so Izuku saw what he wanted him to see? 

“Come on, Midoriya. Breathe.”

He can’t. He can’t. The more Izuku tries, the worse it gets. He just wants his mom. He wants her warm hugs and he wants Han to bat him on the cheek for scritches. He wants to go home, but home isn’t safe anymore, and that’s his fault. 

Tsukauchi doesn’t take his hand off Izuku's back, but he stops talking to Izuku. Izuku risks a glance and sees him on the phone. Tsukauchi notices him staring, “I’m going to put you on speaker, Toshinori.” The detective holds the phone between them

All Might? No. Nonononono. Izuku seizes in his seat, not moving a muscle as he stares at All Might’s caller ID. Too similar to the bar, too similar. He can see Izuku, he can see--

“Young Midoriya?” A sob breaks out of Izuku’s chest. “Naomasa tells me you’re having a panic attack. Can you do something for me, young Midoriya?” He can’t see it, but Izuku gives the barest of nods. “Tell me five things you can see.” A car horn blares over the phone, followed by a muttered curse in English and the squeal of tires. 

Izuku grits his teeth and forces himself to focus. “Phone, table, couch, ball, floor.” He lists, trying his very best to focus. 

“Good. Four things you can touch.” 

“My shirt.” He runs his thumb over the fabric, feeling the threads. “Uh, my hands. My bandaid. And- and my pants.”

They keep going like that. Three things he can hear (his own heartbeat, All Might, Tsukauchi). Two things he can smell (he can’t. His nose is too congested). One thing he can taste (blood, he’s been biting his cheek a lot lately). Izuku knows in the vague sense that All Might is coming over, but it doesn’t settle in as reality until the doorbell goes off. Izuku flinches, curling up into the couch. 

“It’s okay.” Tsukauchi reminds him. The detective gets up and answers the door, Izuku covers his face with his arms before he can see that familiar head of yellow hair. He hears footsteps on the carpet, the crinkle of clothes and a grunt of effort as someone kneels down in front of him. 

Izuku can hear All Might trying to catch his breath and remembers that the detective’s apartment is on the fourth floor. “Young Midoriya. I’m here. What’s wrong?”

Just when he got control of his tears, too. Izuku breaks down again and lets himself be guided into a firm hug. He buries his face into All Might’s bony shoulder, trying his best to hide. “I-I’m sorry. All Might- I screwed up bad. Really bad. I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it but I- I couldn’t and someone figured me out.” 

“Slow down, young Midoriya. What couldn't you handle?”

“Wallflower.” Izuku spits it out like poison, “I’m training so hard with One for All but I thought I could do more to help. So I gathered info on the villains and reported it. I got cocky.” He swallows. “I was in the old League base when someone found me. All Might, he knows who I am. He knew my name.”

“There’s a leak in my precinct.” Tsukauchi adds, “That’s the only way they could know his informant name was Wallflower...It’s hard to say how they know his real identity. It could be a Quirk, or they could have followed him with cameras.”

 All Might’s hand comes up to the back of Izuku’s head. “That is...a lot to take in.” He starts. “But first: I'm not angry with you. Worried?” He shakes Izuku a little, “Yes, but I’m more relieved that you told us.”

“Gran’s gonna kill me.” Izuku sniffles and hangs his head, “My leg’s almost healed. He’s gonna go all out an’ make me puke during training.” 

All Might coughs a surprised laugh. “Yes, well,” he says, “we can say that’s your punishment for being so reckless.” He pulls away, looking Izuku in his bloodshot eyes. “We’ll handle this, Midoriya. Together. I can’t stand here and say I don’t understand where you’re coming from when you decided to become Wallflower. That drive to help is one of the reasons I chose you, but we need to find you some better, safer outlets, my boy.”

“The first years have internships later in the year, don’t they?” Tsukauchi asks All Might. “It shouldn’t be too hard to pull some strings, get him one a bit early.” He must’ve gotten up to get Izuku water while he was crying into All Might’s shoulder, there’s a cup sitting on the coffee table. Tsukauchi grabs it and hands it to Izuku,  “Small sips.”

Izuku does so and winces when the headache slams into him out of nowhere. He didn’t realise he’d cried that much. “Thank you.” 

All Might hums, considering what Tsukauchi said. “It’s possible. I can definitely ask around, but I already have someone in mind.”

“Gran?” Izuku whispers fearfully. The job shadowing was harsh enough, but now Gran has a reason to beat him up. Any extra time around the old man would be very compromising to the structure of his bones. 

All Might laughs, “No, not Gran.” He promises. “Someone I used to work closely with. He’s a good man...even if we’ve had our disagreements.” 

“Okay.” Izuku takes another sip of his water. “Crap!” he whips his head up, staring wide eyed into All Might’s own surprised blue. “Mom! I told her I wouldn’t be gone long, but now it’s been like, an hour and-” He can’t say that he was at school because he was stupid and left his backpack on the couch. Mom keeps telling him to hang it up in his room but this is the first time it’s really bitten him like this.

Tsukauchi takes out his phone, looking something up with focused eyes. “There.” He holds his phone out, showing a news broadcast of massive train delays. “You were dropping something off at a classmate’s and got held up. Do you have anyone that could back that up for you?”

“Yes.” the answer leaves his mouth without thought. Todoroki would lie to the prime minister if he thought Izuku needed it. He doesn’t have to feel guilty either, because it’s not his mother he’s lying to. 

“Good.” Tsukauchi stands up, “Do you think we’re still being watched? Is it safe for us to take you home?”

Izuku bites his lip. “I don’t know.” He admits. “I can’t turn Notice Me Not on if someone’s looking at me. It’s different with tech. It can’t tell if anyone’s watching through a lens.” 

Tsukacuhi nods. “I tried to take the less crowded streets on the way back here, but it's possible we were followed. As far as they know, though, Toshinori is just a random man. If they do any digging they’ll see he’s All Might’s secretary, but they won’t know you’ve likely told All Might due to your profile.” 

His profile? Oh. The police mole. If they’re watching, that’s what they’d go off of. Hopefully. Something Tsukauchi said catches up with the rest of Izuku’s brain. He turns to look at All Might. “You’re your own secretary?” He tries not to sound incredulous, but given how Tsukauchi hides his mouth he didn’t do too well. 

All Might shoots a glare to the detective. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He says. He stands up, groaning as he stretches out his long limbs. He really folded in on himself to kneel down in front of Izuku. “Come on, my boy. Let’s get you home.” 

Izuku needs to do one more thing before he goes. While All Might waits at the door, Izuku bows deeply to detective Tsukauchi. “Thank you.” He’s covering a lot of things with those two words. They don’t feel like nearly enough, but Tsukauchi smiles. 

“You’re a good kid, Midoriya. Thank you for reaching out. Have Toshinori give you my number. No more dropping off folders at the precinct, no more running around the streets unsupervised. If you have a concern you text me and I’ll look into it. Okay?” He nods to himself when Izuku agrees, “My door is open whenever, Midoriya. Take care.” 

All Might’s car is a sleek, dark colored beauty. Izuku’s not even that interested in cars and he can admit that he stares a little before being prompted to hop in the passenger seat.

“Seatbelt.” All Might reminds him, popping his own into place. He notices Izuku looking around the interior and smirks. “David Shield gave this beauty to me as a gift before I left the states.” 

Izuku’s not ashamed to say his eyes go wide as dinner plates. “David Shield?” he demands, “As in the engineer? Works on I-Island and always has a panel during I-Expo David Shield?”

“Seatbelt, Midoriya.” All Might reminds him, prompting a muttered “right” and a hurried click. All Might shifts the car into gear and they’re off with a near-nonexistent lurch. “David’s a good friend of mine. We met while I was studying abroad in America. Haven’t talked to him in years - busy with our own work, the two of us - but he sent me pictures of his daughter, Melissa, a few years ago.” 

Izuku stares. He can’t do anything but stare. Yeah, All Might is the number one in Japan, that has to come with some powerful connections, but David Shield? Izuku’s kept up to date on man’s inventions ever since he could read. He has so many questions. 

They’re stopped at an intersection. The traffic light paints everything a shade of red, even All Might’s eyes. “Midoriya, what you did was reckless. It was ill-advised and you could have gotten hurt while no one knew where you were.” His hands tighten on the wheel, veins popping out as his knuckles go white. “I want you to be safe, my boy. An impossible wish in our profession, but you going out to find trouble on your own doesn’t help anything.” 

Here it is, the crushing disappointment. Izuku nods silently, staring down at his hands. “I just wanted to help.” He whispers. 

“And you will.” All Might tells him, “But for god’s sake, graduate school first. Take the time to develop your skills. You relied too heavily on Notice Me Not and look at what happened. Just…” All Might heaves a sigh, “you’re training for your own hero career, young Midoriya. If you want to learn reconnaissance, tell me instead of going out and doing it. There are several underground heroes I could have asked to give you advice, shown you the basics.”

Izuku wilts even further because All Might has a point. Izuku has no idea what proper recon looks like, he doesn’t know how to spot a tail or how to scope a room for possible recording devices. “I just wanted to help.” He repeats lamely. 

“But no one said you had to help right this second.” The light turns green, they start moving. All Might never takes his eyes off the road. “I’m not trying to hurt you, but what do you think would have happened if you got caught and Full Cowl wasn’t enough to escape? Imagine how I would have felt, knowing you got hurt or died because you ran into a situation you weren’t ready for. Imagine how your mother would feel.” 

The hole in Izuku’s chest deepens into a crater. 

“My point is: you’re young, my boy. You’re allowed to take your time and learn what you need to. The adults have things handled.”

Izuku nods. “I understand.” He looks out the window, staring at the shops they pass. “I’m sorry. For causing so much trouble.” Izuku probably wasn’t what All Might was thinking of when he was looking for a successor: small, unconfident, too nosy for his own good. Izuku wants to be worthy of One for All, but all he’s shown lately is how good he is at digging a hole. 

His apartment rolls into view. All Might parks at the curb and stops Izuku before he shuts the door. “You’re worth every bit of trouble, my boy. I’d fight a thousand villains for you.” He locks eyes with Izuku. “Your heart’s in the right place. You just need a little more training. Now go and get some rest. I’ll see you in class.” 

Izuku stands on the curb, watching his car disappear down the road. He looks up at the glow from his living room window and gathers himself. If he’s lucky, mom won’t ask about his puffy eyes or where he’s been. He doesn’t have the heart to lie right now, and disappointing his mom and All Might on the same day would be too much to handle. He still hasn’t figured out how he’s going to explain why he thinks they should move to that apartment complex detective Tsukauchi was talking about.  

Still, with the detective and All Might in the know, mom’s a little bit safer than before. That’s worth all the trouble in the world. 

----

Izuku learns true fear on his way to morning training. All Might must’ve told Gran by now, he must have. The old man won’t go so far as to reinjure Izuku’s leg, but the verbal thrashing he’s about to get will be the thing of legends. Parents will make their child look at what’s left of him and say “at least I didn’t do that”. The gym doors stand innocently in front of him, hiding the reason he’s mentally composing his eulogy. Face the music Izuku, come on. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open. 

Gran’s standing in the center of the gym, inspecting some weights he pulled out. “Good, you’re here. Now get over here and start warming up.” He doesn’t even look Izuku’s way. Did All Might not tell him yet? “Once you're all set, I’m going to have you do handstand pushups until you puke for your little stunt.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Police informant, pah.” 

“...That’s it?”

“What?” Gran finally turns around to level Izuku with a deeply unimpressed eyebrow. “Do you want to run ten kilometers, too?”

“No?” He hates how squeaky his voice sounds. 

Gran nods, putting his hands on his hips. “Good. I’d have kicked your tookus if you tried. Your leg can’t take that yet, so pushups it is.” 

Izuku starts cautiously warming up. His mind swirls with questions, but they can all boil down to: “You’re not going to say anything? At all?” He thought there’d be more yelling involved this morning. He spent so much time trying to prepare himself and the rug’s been yanked out from under him.  

Gran sighs and put a hand to his brow, “Did you learn from your mistake?” Izuku nods, “Do you plan to do it again?” a shake of his head. Gran shrugs, “Then anything I say would be something you’re already beating yourself up for. Now keep stretching! You think i’m blowin’ hot air about those pushups?” 

He is not, in fact, bluffing about the pushups. Izuku doesn’t quite throw up, but his triceps give up on him around the 280 mark and his face crashes into the floor. Nothing breaks, thank goodness, but at the price of throbbing pain through his face. Gran lets him take a breather and then sets him on the weights, focusing on the few muscles that he didn’t push to failure. He’s drenched in sweat, muscles shaking and his arms that feel like they might float off at any moment. Most notably, the anxiety has gone quiet.

“Exercise is a good way to take your mind off things.” Gran tells him, handing Izuku a protein bar as he down his water bottle on the bench. “Uses up all that extra energy. Don’t push yourself to failure every time, but push yourself and you’ll feel a bit better by the end of it.” He hops up next to Izuku, “I told Toshinor the same thing. Difference is he didn’t listen to me. Half the time I’d find him passed out on the gym floor, and he’d always complain about stiffness when he woke up. Brat doesn’t know the half of it.” 

“You told All Might the same thing?”

Gran pauses. “I’ve known Toshinori a bit longer than he’s had One for All. His predecessor, Shimura Nana, was a good friend.” He closes his eyes, placing his hands over each other to ride out a wave of old grief. “She died when he was still early in his training. The grief didn’t have a lot of outlets, so I gave him one.” Gran scoffs, “And he abused it. Idiot has arthritis in his elbows from all that lifting.” He pokes Izuku in the shoulder, “Which is why I’m telling you not to push it. You’re the successor, but that doesn’t mean squat unless you learn from their past mistakes.”

Izuku stares down at his protein bar. He never thought about the person who passed One for All to All Might. Conceptually? Yeah, someone had to give it to him. To lose her so soon after inheriting, though. It must have been rough. The thought of losing All Might makes Izuku feel cold. He wouldn’t know what to do at all. At least Gran was there for him - is still here for him. Gran didn’t have to help Izuku, and he didn’t rip into Izuku about Wallflower like he was expecting. 

“Alright.” Gran hops off the bench and hobbles towards the weights they left out. “Help me disinfect these and put them back up. You can go and get changed afterwards.”

Izuku’s almost late to class. The hot water of the shower had felt so nice he lost track of time. His hair is still a bit damp when he rushes through the door, right as the bell rings down the hall. He’s so worn out he doesn’t even care that everyone is staring at him. 

Todoroki slides him a piece of paper halfway through the lesson, a simple observation written on it. You look tired.

Izuku huffs a laugh to himself and scribbles a reply. Gran Torino really put me through the ringer this morning. My arms are jello. For effect, he doodles a plate of jello wobbling on a plate. He blindly passes it back to Todoroki and is rewarded with a near silent chuff. 

They have class with All Might later on in the day. He keeps things professional, but he clearly looks like he wants to talk to Izuku. He gets his chance when he catches Izuku alone on the way to the courtyard where his friends are waiting. 

“Are you feeling any better, my boy?”

Izuku takes a second to think about it and smiles. “I am.” It’s a relief to say that and be 100% honest about it for once. He doesn’t feel like the pressure of what he’s done is pulling him under. Tsukauchi, All Might, and Gran have already helped him in little ways since yesterday, but the fact they know and have already taken steps to protect him and his mom means more than they’ll ever know.

Izuku fills up on protein during lunch, putting away enough food to impress even Uraraka. He chatters about classes and what they think the math test is going to focus on. Izuku's been trying to work slower, but it's, uh, slow going. Iida’s got all his ducks in a row, Todoroki Isn't far behind him. Only Uraraka can understand the struggle of trying not to skip steps. 

By the end of the day his heart still flutters, but he can ignore it now in favor of other things. He grounds himself with the way the sun feels on his face, how his lungs fill and empty, the steady motion of his legs as he walks. 

“I’m home!” He announces after he’s opened the door. Han hops off the couch to twine between his legs. Izuku crouches down to greet the little stinker. 

He can hear mom’s voice in the kitchen. “That’d be him. Izuku! Your father’s on the line!” 

Oh. Izuku scoops Han up into his arms and meanders over to the kitchen. Mom’s sitting at the table, phone pressed to her ear as she motions for Izuku to come closer. “I’m handing the phone to him now. I love you, darling.” Next thing Izuku knows he’s got her phone in his hand. 

Izuku can’t remember the last time dad called off of the top of his head. Not since Izuku started training to inherit One for All, that’s for sure. To be perfectly candid, Izuku can barely remember a time when his dad was there, at home he means. He used to call a lot more back then, Izuku remembers looking forward to them. But then the daily calls turned to weekly, weekly to monthly, so on so forth. He tries to call for birthdays, but that’s been hit-or-miss lately, too. 

It’s hard to talk about it with mom, but Izuku doesn’t feel disappointed by the lack of calls. He doesn’t feel much about his dad these days. The man cares for mom, obviously, and Izuku wouldn’t exist without him, but it’s hard to develop a connection with someone who feels like a total stranger. 

It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that his dad calling out of the blue might be a herald for the end of days. Izuku swallows his nerves and puts the phone to his ear, “Hi, dad.”

“Izuku!” His dad’s voice comes in crisp over the phone, a bit staticky, but identifiable. As low and gravely as he remembers. “How have you been?”

Ah, small talk. Izuku has not missed it. He adjusts his grip on Han and moves to the living room, letting himself bounce when he hits the couch. “I’ve been...okay.” Probably not the best time to tell his estranged father he’s been moonlighting as a police informant. He hasn’t even told mom yet. And he already knows Tsukauchi won’t let him get away with not telling her. “School’s been...eventful.”

“I can tell,” His dad agrees, “You were on the news over here in the states for what happened in Hosu. Terrible stuff, I’m glad you’re alright.”

In the loosest sense of the term, sure. Izuku still has nightmares, and he looks over his shoulder a lot more often than a normal person should, but physically he’s almost back to full health. Not for long though, Gran will kick him once he’s up to snuff. “Yeah,” Izuku mumbles, focusing on petting Han with his free hand. The cat mrrps and leans into the touch. “I got stabbed. It wasn’t very fun.” At least he wasn’t conscious when the adrenaline wore off. 

There’s a pause on the other end. “I see. The news failed to say what exactly put you in the hospital. I thought it was just to look you over.”

“No, I was stabbed.” He can’t say there’s not a small part of him that finds it funny when his dad flounders. He still throws the man a line when the silence gets a little too long. “It wasn’t terrible. My friends were in the hospital with me for a bit. And my leg is almost healed up now.” 

His dad clears his throat. “Good to hear. Now, your mother says that you got a cat?”

“Uh, yeah, his name is Han.” The cat perks up at his name, Izuku scratches him with a tiny smile. “He’s got one ear and he’s all white.” Izuku worries his lip. Dad doesn’t live with them, but what if he says they need to get rid of Han? Han has made his life better every day just by being a lovable one-eared brat. It would be the first real fight he’d have with his dad, because this cat is his. 

“I remember when I was your age.” Dad reminisces, “My parents got us a dog. Made us promise to take care of it. Of course, I was the one that did everything.” a sigh, “She was all white, too. I think we named her Cloud.”

Izuku blinks. Dad doesn’t talk about his past, ever. Mom only knows the bare bones, and he never talks about it when he’s on the phone with Izuku. “What breed was she?”

“A mutt.” His dad replies, Izuku can hear the smile in his voice. It’s...nice. “Probably had seven different breeds in her, but she was a gentle giant. Always let me lean against her to read a book in the yard.” 

“What happened to her?” 

“Time.” The tinge of sadness in dad’s tone makes Izuku swallow and hold Han a little tighter. “We were lucky to have her so long, sixteen was great for a dog her size… It hurt, but I was glad I had her. I’m all for you having a pet of your own, Izuku. It might even help you come out of your shell. Have you made any friends at school?”

The sudden topic change almost makes Izuku’s head spin. “Y-yeah. A few.” Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki, a whole three more than he had in middle school. “They’re really cool. They like my drawings.” 

Dad makes a sound in the back of his throat. “I bet. I saw that Bakugou kid at the sports festival. Is he still giving you trouble?”

Ah, on to the part of their calls he dreads. “Not really.” Izuku says, “My homeroom teacher is strict. He doesn’t let Bakugou do anything he used to do.” Hell, Bakugou hasn’t even tried anything outside of training exercises, that’s the kind of aura AIzawa gives off. 

“Well at least there’s that.” His dad doesn’t sound thrilled, but he doesn’t sound like he’s going to call Yuuei, either. Izuku will chalk it up as a win. Historically, dad’s calls never amounted to much anyways. This just saves him any awkwardness between him and his teachers. “I realize that I haven’t been the most...present of fathers, Izuku. But I want to change that, if you would let me.”

Han leaps off the couch, effectively abandoning Izuku right as that bombshell lands. “Does that mean you’ll call more often?” 

“”Maybe not every day.” Dad gives him, “But maybe once every two weeks? I’ve already missed so much. Everything in the news...it reminded me you’re growing up.” 

Izuku stays silent, thinking. He doesn’t feel any special connection to his dad, true, but he remembers the warmth in dad’s voice talking about Cloud. What would it feel like to have his own name spoken with that affection? “I’m okay with that.” he tries not to sound desperate. 

“Thank you, Izuku. Now stay safe, and don’t get stabbed any more.” 

That manages to make Izuku smile. “No promises.” 

“I love you.”

Izuku inhales, “...bye, dad.” He presses “end call” with his heart racing. The phone bounces on the cushion when Izuku drops it, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees. Today has been a lot. The emotional drain of the last week  alone has Izuku wanting to pass out for the next twelve hours. Still, mom is expecting her phone back. He grabs it and walks back into the kitchen. 

“How was it?” Mom asks, taking her phone and pocketing it. Han is on the counter, pandering to her for belly rubs. 

Izuku doesn’t even have to think about it, “It went pretty good.” Inside his head, he’s thinking about something else.

Izuku wants his dad’s hat back. 

Chapter Text

Izuku waits until after school to go to the address scribbled on the note. He packed a spare set of clothes in his backpack this morning. The Yuuei uniform is too distinct, and he’s pretty sure the guy from the alley doesn’t know he’s Wallflower or Midoriya Izuku. He avoids the All Might hoodie - the memories of dark rooms and haunting voices are bad enough he can’t even look at the piece of clothing for long. Instead, he picks out a nondescript black sweatshirt. The hood is a tad too tight, but that just means none of Izuku’s hair will poke out on accident. Izuku pops into a public bathroom and gets changed before setting off. 

It’s the more dilapidated part of town that he finds himself in. Old concrete and older residents, skin leathered by blue-collar days in the sun and general age. No one shoots him any weird looks, no one even bothers to spare him more than a glance. He doesn’t even have Notice Me Not on, it’s just their way. 

The address leads him to an apartment complex. Izuku stakes it out for all of thirty minutes before he determines it’s safe enough to take the stairs up. Room 453, the furthest door down the hall of the fourth floor, looks abandoned at first glance. Then again, so do all of these doors. Some are so weathered he could push on one and it would crumble into mulch. At least rent would be cheap, Izuku thinks to himself. 

He stands at the door, staring. Now or never, Izuku, come on, it’s just a door. Hiding a guy who is clearly unstable. Who has Izuku’s hat. 

There’s a crash behind the door when Izuku musters up enough courage to knock. Izuku bites his lip and debates the pros and cons of turning Notice Me Not on as the sounds continue, clutter being moved to the side as the person behind the door comes closer and closer. He runs out of time when the door swings open and Izuku is greeted by a woman he can say with confidence he’s never seen before in his life. 

The lady seems put together enough, with unremarkable features and no real outward appearance other than generic dark hair and dark eyes. She perks up when her eyes land on Izuku. “Oh! You’re here!” She looks over her shoulder yelling, “Hey! The kid from the alley’s here for his hat!” Then she just, melts down into the floor as a puddle of...mud? It looks like mud, and Izuku’s not going to squat down to get a better look at it. 

A familiar mask pops out from a hallway in the apartment. “Oh hey, you’re here!” Then, deeper - almost faux-baritone, really - he says, “You’re dumb as a sack of bricks, kid.” Given Izuku’s recent adventures, he doesn’t even disagree. “Sorry about the mud thing. Part of the Quirk, y’know? I used to make a lot more, then…nevermind.” he perks back up like a daisy on red-bull. “Stay there for a sec! I got your hat somewhere around here.” Then he’s gone again, rifting through what sounds like a mountain of trash. 

Izuku takes in what he can see of the apartment. Empty instant food packets, beer bottles, food wrappers, the place is a mess. Mom would put her foot down and make him clean up his room before it got a quarter of this bad. There are other odd patches of the mud-like substance over the floor, dried up and crusted. The smoke alarm is hanging by wires, the light in the living room flickers every three or four seconds, and Izuku can’t feel any air conditioning. 

The guy reappears from the hallways, cap in hand. “I know I said it before, but thanks for letting me use it.” He says, “Not that I needed it! You were unnecessary!” He makes it to the doorway and holds the hat out for Izuku to take. “And…a word to the wise: you shouldn’t hang out in places like that alley. Those are for the real hopeless cases like me. And you’re a university kid, you got a good life ahead of you.” 

There appears to have been a misunderstanding about how old Izuku is. He’s not going to correct it, it’s another layer of protection for his identity. He reaches out and takes the hat in hand. The fabric is fraying at the edges, the logo from some prestigious American university that opened right before Quirks became commonplace. It used to smell like dad’s cologne, but the scent faded somewhere between Izuku’s second and third year in elementary school. Izuku forces himself to make eye contact, staring into the blank white eye-holes of his mask. “Thank you.” 

the man’s larger hand falls away from the hat. “You’re welcome.” he says, “Remember what I said, alright? No more alleyways for you, college kid.” 

The concern is misplaced, but appreciated all the same. Izuku smiles behind the mask and nods. Then the guy shuts the door and Izuku is alone in the hall. Izuku stands in front of the door, thinking. He likes to think Notice Me Not has allowed him to develop a good sense of character, the guy didn’t set off a single alarm in Izuku’s head. He didn’t have to give the hat back, and he definitely didn’t have to share his address. Izuku’s mind flashes back to the disaster zone that was his living room and reaches for his notebook and a pencil.

When he heads home, there’s a note left in front of the guy’s door, pinned by the welcome mat.

This’s my mom’s recipe for stir-fry vegetables. There’s a market near Musatafu that discounts bruised produce. They have coupons, too. 

Stay safe and thank you for giving my hat back. 

He leaves it unsigned. 

-----

Izuku invites detective Tsukauchi and All Might to the apartment to act as moral support for when he tells mom about Wallflower. And oh man, when Izuku finally does tell her, she is mad . There’s a reason she and Mrs. Bakugou are friends. Mom doesn’t lose her temper often, but when she does it’s biblical . Han runs for the hills, All Might and Tsukauchi can only watch as she lectures Izuku with an alarmingly calm and level voice. That’s the thing, mom’s anger is never loud like her tears. If Bakugou is a wildfire, mom is a blowtorch: localized, controlled, and white-hot. Her words cut at just the right areas and sting for hours after he’s been chewed out. 

“Of all the reckless and hare-brained things you could have done.” Mom tells him. Her hands lay still in her lap, Izuku can feel her eyes on him. “I'm not mad about moving, and I’m not mad about the informant job, what I’m mad about is that you went out alone and you could have been hurt.” 

Izuku’s grounded for the rest of the week. No hanging out with friends, no video games, no hero fights. Izuku’s to go straight home and help mom pack up the apartment for the move. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not a terrible punishment, and that somehow makes Izuku feel worse. 

He knows it won’t lighten his sentence, but Izuku goes out of the way to make things easier for her. He puts coffee on early in the morning, watches like a hawk for anything she might need. Does his best to be as unobtrusive as he can. Mom sits him down two days in and tells him that it’s her job to take care of him, not the other way around. 

His grounding is lifted on friday, and sitting amongst the many boxes stacked around his room, Izuku feels an urge to go out. He doesn’t even know where, he just wants to be outside for a bit. Han sidles up to him, begging for scritches. Izuku gives him belly rubs, thinking. All the boxes and packing up is starting to stress Han out, he’s been much needier lately. His profile at the shelter mentioned being left behind after his owners moved. Izuku feels Han nuzzle his hand, clutching at it with both paws and feels guilt swell up in his heart. Not only is he causing problems for the adults, he’s making his cat freak out. 

He has an idea as to how he can make it up to Han. Reaching for his phone, Izuku struggles to type with one free hand. 

Sent: 5:34 pm

Hey todoroki di you wanr to go to the pey store? 

Izuku winces at all the typos, not because Han gives his hand a particularly sharp nip for trying to escape. He puts the phone down and focuses on petting Han with both hands. It pings after ten minutes. 

Received: 5:44 pm

Sure. The one near Kiyashi shopping ward?

This time, Izuku manages to get both hands free of Han’s grabby little paws. 

Sent: 5:45 pm

Yeah! We can get some toys for Han, and maybe some food for the strays.

Maybe a comb, too, Izuku thinks as he stares at the clusters of fur on his fingers. 

Received: 5:47 pm

Okay. See you in 20

He didn’t mean right now , he’s still in his uniform. Izuku shoots up and starts scrambling to find a good pair of pants. He doesn’t remember to lament his choice in shirts until he stares at the selection and is faced with an assortment of bad puns. Why, why is it so hard to find a plain T-shirt?

Han watches all of this from Izuku’s bed and decides to occupy himself with grooming his leg. 

Izuku arrives outside the pet shop and sees that Todoroki is already there. He’s wearing dark jeans that contrast with the white of his sneakers. The jacket he’s wearing is snug, Izuku may or may not spend a few moments staring at his shoulders. Todoroki spots him and raises a hand in greeting, Izuku squeaks and hurries over. 

“H-Hey, Todoroki.” 

“Hi, Midoriya.” His eyes flicker to Izuku’s chest, “Nice shirt.”

Izuku wants to die . The old white T shirt that literally has “T-shirt” written on it in kanji was the least embarrassing of his horrible casual-shirt collection. “Ehe, yeah, it’s...something.”

“I like it.” Todoroki decides, like his words don’t make lightning shoot through Izuku’s entire body. “It’s funny.”

Izuku walks past Todoroki before the heat in his face becomes any more obvious. “L-let’s go in.” 

Izuku remembers when he came through here shopping for supplies before he brought Han home. It hasn’t changed much, if at all, over the last few months. Neon chew-toys and tennis balls sit in front of the entrance, a little cartoon dog sign with a big speech bubble reads “Welcome!”. The AC washes over him in a great whoosh of air, carrying the faint scent of pet food. 

This is one of the more popular shopping areas in the city, so the store accommodates with sheer size and variety. Bright signs and cute cartoon pets. An entire section to the left dedicated to aquariums. He knows from experience that you can get lost in the toy aisle, and Todoroki is looking at none of it. 

Izuku follows his eyes and brightens. The adoption corner has two new residents: a pair of tuxedo cats who can’t be any older than five months. They tumble with each other all over their enclosure, scrawny back legs kicking out wildly. Izuku can feel Todoroki’s longing. “Do you want to go play with the cats?”

“...Yes.” 

The kittens perk up when they approach. Now that he’s close, Izuku can see some small differences between the two. One has a white muzzle, while the other’s head is completely black, all the white on its body saved for a big splotch on its chest and paws. The info sheets on the glass list them as Domino and Kuuki. 

The little things pounce on Todoroki’s finger, grabbing at it with tiny claws and gnawing the fleshy bits. Todoroki doesn’t try to remove his finger. “They’re energetic.” He comments, wiggling his finger to the absolute delight of the kittens. 

Izuku stares at the scene, taking in the little details. The tiny mewls of the kittens, the scrambling of paws on the glass, the gentle smile and content aura exuding from Todoroki. “D-do you want a cat? When you’re older?” 

Todoroki’s contentment dims. His finger stills, letting the kittens capture it again. “...I’ve thought about it. But between Endeavor’s allergies and his training- ” Izuku hides a grimace at the word, “-there’s not a chance. Not while I still live with him.”

Which means three more years, three more years until they reach adulthood; it might take even longer if Todoroki needs to save up for an apartment. From what Izuku’s seen, Endeavor is always trying to weigh in on Todoroki’s life, steer him in the desired direction. Yes, Todoroki has been straining against the rules that have been forced on him, but that kind of effort can be exhausting, especially for extended amounts of time. Izuku had meant for this little trip to be a distraction, for both of them, but now he’s gone and reminded Todoroki of what he’s been trying to forget. 

Izuku sticks his finger into the enclosure, getting Kuuki’s attention. He’s broken his hand so many times, kitten teeth feel more ticklish than painful. “I, uh, I wanna get a comb, for Han. Cause he’s been shedding a lot lately and- I was thinking you could take the stuff we brush off of him and leave it around your house.” 

“But then I wouldn’t have to come over as much.” 

Well, this was an unforeseen reaction. Izuku glances over to him, “I-Is that a problem?”

“Yes.” Todoroki turns his head to stare at Izuku. They hold eye contact for an eternity before he looks away, “I like hanging out with you.” 

Izuku’s eyes bug out. “U-uh, okay.” God, get it together. “I- you- please still hang out with me!” Izuku is going to throw himself into a pit . He rotates on his heel and starts speed walking to the cat care aisle. “L-lets go and get the c-comb. We can brush Han when we get back.” The little stinker will be betrayed by the smell of other cats, but Izuku can win him back with a snack stick. The entire time he and Todoroki browse, Izuku does his best not to look in his direction. It works, until they reach for the same toy and brush hands. 

Izuku squeaks, yanking his hand back like he stuck his finger in an electrical outlet. “S-sorry.” His fingers were calloused, but they’d been warm. The memory burns itself onto his hand, a phantom touch that pulses to the beat of his heart. 

Todoroki has a strange look on his face. “It’s okay.” He picks up the toy and inspects it. “Do you think Han would like this one?” 

It’s a little platypus toy, with a loop of string on the back so you can tie it to a stick and dangle it around. “Y-yeah, I think he will.” and it’s added to the basket. Izuku ends up sinking a month’s allowance into these new toys and the comb, but the easy line of Todoroki’s shoulders make it more than worth it. 

The sun has broken through the cloud-crowded sky, Izuku closes his eyes and soaks in the sunlight as he walks with Todoroki down the sidewalk, then winces as a sharp pain bolts through his head. It’s not a headache, he knows that much, but it’s intense, making him stop and hold a hand to his eye with a hiss. 

“Midoriya?” Todoroki stops and turns around, approaching Izuku with a concerned furrow to his brow. “What is it?”

“My head, it’s-”

Concrete shatters and crashes to the ground, right where they would have been standing if Izuku hadn’t stopped, if Todoroki hadn’t come back to check on him. A villain emerges from the dust, using some kind of air Quirk to propel herself forwards. Todoroki grbas Izuku’s hand before he can make any more observations, dragging the both of them a safe distance away. Izuku keeps craning his neck to look back. The villain, she’s not attacking anyone, if anything it looks like she’s running away. A few more seconds and Izuku sees why. 

Endeavor bursts out of the hole the villain left behind. With his massive frame, he’s slower than his target, but he’s got technique whereas the villain looks like she’s running on instincts. She makes a right when she should have ducked, and she gets arm-barred for the error. Izuku winces at how hard she hits the ground. Endeavor isn’t well known for PR, or holding back, but you can’t deny the results. 

A crowd has already started to form, chattering excitedly at seeing the number two hero in action. By now, no one is expecting him to stay behind and talk to the crowd, he leaves that sort of stuff to his sidekicks, but Izuku sees Todoroki tense as Endeavor turns towards the crowd. Even with the non-school clothing, Todoroki’s hair is easy to pick out of the crowd. Izuku doesn’t know what possesses him, but he grabs Todoroki’s hand and squeezes his eyes shut, pulling at the TV static of Notice Me Not.

Come on, he thinks, please work. Izuku already messed up by making Todoroki remember his situation, their day will be outright ruined if Endeavor spots them. He only opens his eyes when he hears the arrival of Endeavor’s sidekicks. Half of them flock to the villain while the others come towards the crowd. Endeavor is nowhere to be seen. 

“Midoriya.”

Oh no. Izuku looks down, staring at their intertwined hands. “S-sorry!” He yelps, yanking his hand away, “I am s-so sorry! I thought I could-”

“He looked right past us.” Todoroki sounds distant, surprised. “That was your Quirk, wasn’t it?”

“Y-yeah. But I couldn't hide other people before.” He never really tried. 

“It’s strange. Like my whole body went numb.” 

A fair descriptor. Izuku’s had the hum of his Quirk ever since it manifested. Wrapping it around himself is the same as snuggling up with a blanket: it’s familiar, comforting. He’s never thought about what Notice Me Not would feel like to someone else. “But it’s gone now, right?” The sensation of Notice Me Not never lingers for Izuku, but there might be some kind of delay if he uses it on other people. Oh, Izuku has so many questions. 

Todoroki shifts the pet store bags to his other hand. “No, it’s gone now.” He stares at Izuku some more, “You held my hand.”

If he could just melt into the ground, that would be ideal. Izuku picks at his nails, wincing when he feels skin tear. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It was kinda spur of the moment, I’m, really sorry about that-”

“I liked it.” 

Welp, there goes Izuku’s chance at keeping his composure. “Oh! Uh, I- you- I liked it, too.” If they keep standing here, Izuku is going to die of embarrassment. “Do you want to come over? To see Han?”

Todoroki stares a little longer, then smiles. “Yeah, I would.”

They spend two hours playing, grooming, and feeding Han, sneaking little glances at each other and quickly looking away if they lock eyes. Even so, Izuku can’t deny the warmth in his chest when Todoroki bids him goodnight, a ziploc bag of Han’s fur in hand. 

Chapter Text

Izuku makes his commute to school feeling lighter than air. No, lighter than helium. Nothing dampens the fluttering in his chest, not even the puddle he walked straight into while crossing the street. He’s simply too excited about yesterday to let any of it bother him. 

All Might stands off to the side of the main door, looking at his phone with a tired face. He sees Izuku come in from the side entrance and brightens. Now that he’s facing him, Izuku can notice how much darker the bags under his eyes look. “Good morning, young Midoriya.” 

It’s a rare morning when All Might is earlier than Gran, and it’s perfect for what Izuku’s planning. Izuku drops his bag to the side, “Good morning, All Might.” He doesn’t have much time, it’s one minute to the hour and Gran is punctual . Hurrying over to his teacher, he tells him, “I want to test something.” Then without much more warning he takes All Might’s hand. His palms are rough, callused from years of hero work, but his fingers curl gently around Midoriya’s hand anyways.

“...” All Might stares at where their hands meet, then to Izuku. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, just confused.  “My boy, what-?”

Izuku’s trying not to freak out over holding All Might’s hand when he hears the door start to open. Izuku pulls up Notice Me Not while All Might’s looking away, feeling his hand stiffen in surprise at the sensation. “Shh.” Izuku says. All Might’s jaw clicks shut, watching the door right along with him. 

Gran steps through the door, looking around. He looks tired, too. Well, Gran always looks tired, it’s more that he looks worn down. Izuku holds his breath as he watches Gran glide right over the two of them. “Those idiots are late.” He grumbles, checking his watch. 

Theory proven, Izuku drops Notice Me Not. “We’re early, actually.” 

Gran jumps, cursing as he spots them. “The hell was that, boy?”

“I think Notice Me Not got stronger.” Izuku says, letting go of All Might’s hand with a murmured “sorry”. He holds his hand up, “I can hide anyone I’m touching,” though he still hasn’t tested if it needs skin-to-skin in order to work. 

Gran blinks. “Well, that’s one hell of a development.” 

Yeah, Izuku wouldn’t have even known he could do it if he hadn’t been trying to hide Todoroki from Endeavor. He frowns, picking at his nails as he thinks about the villain fight. That headache wasn’t normal, it’d felt like an icepick behind his eyes. Before he can think any better of it he voices his concerns, “Uh, there was something else. Yesterday, there was a villain attack. I would’ve gotten hit by debris-” a lie, Todoroki would have been the one who was hit, but Izuku’s selfish and he wants to keep the memory of their trip to himself. “-when I got a really bad pain in my head.”

The air goes still. Both All Might and Gran laser in on Izuku, “Sharp pain?” Gran asks, “You didn’t have a headache before that?”

Izuku shakes his head, “It went away as soon as the villain was out of range.” He shifts from foot to foot in the ensuing quiet. “Should I see Recovery Girl?” Gran tends to avoid any headshots, especially when he uses his Quirk, but is this some kind of untreated concussion? Izuku fell when he passed out at Hosu, did he hit his head?

“No, not yet.” Gran says, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Haaah, you sure know how to keep an old man on his toes, brat.”

Izuku...isn’t sure if he should take that as a compliment. The air is so tense, he bites the inside of his lip and shuffles from one foot to the other. “Is everything okay?” He squeaks when All Might and Gran stare at him. “I- I mean, All Might looks a little tired, and before you saw us, you looked stressed.” Izuku can’t help that he’s perceptive, but maybe he can just- shut up once in a while? The way his two mentors are staring at him makes him shrink. “...Sorry, it’s probably none of my business.” 

“Actually,” Gran says after a moment of consideration, “it is your business. Or it’s related to you, anyways.” 

“Gran Torino-” All Might starts to protest but falls silent at a glare. 

“What, you want to keep him in the dark about this?” he scoffs derisively when he’s met with no reply. “That’s what I thought.” 

Izuku’s never seen these two argue about anything. The tension in the room is enough to make him want to fade into the background. Even so, his curiosity is piqued. What could possibly make All Might want to disagree with Gran? In front of Izuku no less? He’s not sure he wants to know, but Gran tells him anyway. 

“The Hero Commission's been reaching out to me about you since the Hosu incident.” Gran crosses his arms with a scowl. “I keep rerouting the urchins to your principal, but they’re persistent.” 

The Hero Commission. Izuku would have to live under a rock and be deaf to have not heard about them. They’re basically the talent scouts of heroism, anyone they take in is guaranteed to be high in the rankings due to their training. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Kid,” Gran looks him dead in the eye, “If you never talk to them I’d consider it a blessing. They’re grubby little money-hounds. They don’t care about actually helping people, just about what makes them look good.” 

“Hey now,” All Might says, “I’ve worked with some of the heroes that came from the commission. They’re good at their job.”

Gran doesn’t budge. “But are they good people , Toshinori? The world’s just getting more complicated, being a hero doesn't mean you’re a hero .” His eyes meet Izuku’s for a moment, “Hell, Endeavor’s number two and I’d just as soon trip the fool.”

Izuku coughs to hide how he chokes on his own spit. He’d rather walk around school in his underwear than have All Might learn he tripped Endeavor. Cause then he’d ask why and that isn’t Izuku’s secret to tell. What Endeavor does isn’t right, but Todoroki is the one who gets the final say on what happens - so long as things don’t go too far. Izuku doesn’t think he can keep his mouth shut if he sees bruises like that again. 

“Um, can I work on Notice me not today?” It’s not even close to a clean topic change, but he’s dying from the tension over here. Trying something is better than doing nothing. 

All Might sighs, rubbing his forehead with a hand. “Sure.” 

“Great.” Izuku shuffles off his backpack and pulls out the notebook he uses exclusively for his own Quirk, “ I wanted to see if I could pull Notice Me Not up right when someone blinks. It’ll take really precise timing, but I think I can do it if I spam it…..”

----

So, Notice Me Not does indeed need some degree of skin contact to work. Touching someone through thin materials like All Might’s dress shirt have a 30% chance of working - but Izuku needs to run more tests to get a more precise number. Still, it’s the first real development in Notice Me Not since Izuku got it at four years old. The sense of giddiness clings to him and puts a skip in his step on the way to class. 

Izuku doesn’t end up going to Recovery Girl, but Gran orders him to tell All Might if he gets another headache that probably isn’t a headache. Izuku agrees without much thought. If this is a One for All thing, they’re probably the best people to talk about it with. 

The thing with the Hero Commission sits weird with Izuku though. It’s impossible to deny the influence they have on the pro hero scene in Japan. There are some people who say they’re up to something - but that comes with any large enough corporation. Conspiracy theorists love to talk about the possible experiments they do on people. Gran’s a good judge of character though. If he says something’s up, something’s up - simple as that. 

If Izuku were still out and about as Wallflower he might have started looking into them, maybe follow one or two known commission-sponsored heroes. He doesn’t want to admit that those experimentation theories got to him, but the possibility of them being true is enough to keep him from following through. Plus he promised not to go out as Wallflower anymore; Gran would kick him straight to China if he caught Izuku even considering it. 

It doesn’t even occur to Izuku that Todoroki might be a problem on his own until he walks into class and spots the other teen. He locks eyes with Izuku, giving a short wave and a barely-there smile. Izuku’s eyes follow his palm, remembering how firm that hand had been wrapped in his own. Firm, but warm. And how Todoroki said he liked holding Izuku’s hand-

Stop it, Izuku tells himself, shaking his head and waving back with a smile of his own. He hurries to sit at his own desk. He tries to focus on unpacking his notes, but his head keeps rewinding to yesterday. 

Izuku lays his arms on the desk and buries his head in them to try and suffocate himself. It doesn’t work. Why’s he even thinking about stuff like this? Todoroki is a good friend of his, it shouldn’t freak him out to think about talking to him, making him smile, holding his hand again. Izuku would really like to hold his hand again-

Izuku thunks his head on the desk, hard. 

It doesn't help that Uraraka keeps sending these looks his way. Smug, with her eyes crinkled and one side of her lip twitching like she’s trying her best not to bust out laughing. Izuku needs better friends. 

Uraraka keeps snickering all the way up to lunch. Izuku sits down and pulls out his lunch in a vain attempt to ignore how close Todoroki is sitting. It feels like any shift will have them bumping hands, and the thought fills Izuku with electricity. He still tries to keep up with the conversation, adding his own thoughts here and there when he can. The few times Izuku risks a glance, Todoroki is glancing back at him. They both hurry to look away.

Izuku’s self aware enough to know this is stupid. They’re just sitting next to each other, he shouldn’t be getting so flustered. It would make sense if he were sitting next to a stranger, but this is Todoroki. They’ve sat at the kitchen counter together, hands mere inches away as they scribbled on their homework sheets. Then again, Izuku didn’t know how it felt to hold his hand back then. 

He wants to do it again. 

Izuku’s hand shakes as he places it under the table. Brushing the pristine wood of the bench, he almost flinches when he brushes over something a little chilly. He sees Todoroki jerk in surprise, shooting a glance at Izuku - who is trying his very best not to make eye contact. He lets his hand cover Todoroki’s. For a few moments there’s no response, and Izuku starts to second guess himself. Todoroki said he liked holding Izuku’s hand, but did Izuku overstep here? Did he-?

Todoroki rotates his hand, fitting Izuku’s into his own. The inside of his hand isn’t as chilly, Izuku can feel it rapidly warm up under his palm. There’s no sense of urgency like there was when Izuku was hiding them from Endeavor, just Izuku’s own buzzing anxiety. Daring to sneak a look at Todoroki, he sees Todoroki staring at where their hands meet with something close to fascination. 

Uraraka peers at the both of them, “Are you guys okay?” 

Izuku flinches. “Yeah!” he yelps, plastering on the biggest grin he can manage, “I guess I’m just a little out of it today.” He really, really needs to work on his lying. Iida expresses some concern over it but Uraraka shushes him. That smug look from class makes a reappearance.

Todoroki’s hand stays in Izuku’s until the end of lunch, even when he has to eat with his left. 

—--

Izuku doesn’t know if it's the pamphlets in his backpack or the residual adrenaline from lunch, but his hands start to shake the closer he gets to Twice’s apartment. He’s about to cross a line here, Twice never explicitly asked for help, but Izuku keeps thinking about the state of that apartment. It didn’t look unlivable but who’s to say that won’t change if his mental health takes a dive? Hence the pamphlets. 

Izuku did his own research on the groups and organizations Naomasa gave him. He checked qualifications, reviews, and whether or not they were up front with where the money goes. It turned out to be redundant anyways. There was a note at the end of the last pamphlet saying Naomasa vetted all of these himself. Izuku smacked his forehead loud enough to make Han jump off the desk with a startled hiss. 

The apartment complex looks as run down as Izuku remembers. He avoids touching the railings as he heads up the stairs, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets. Notice Me Not hums in his ear as he approaches the apartment, a precaution if nothing else. Izuku’s not sure if the man is home, but he spots the corner of a sheet of paper sticking out from the doormat. He crouches down and picks it up, unfurling the paper to read:

Mr college boy,

Thanks for the recipe! Half the time my stove doesn’t even work, but it had just enough gas to make this! I actually already go to that market. They give out coupons every Tuesday!

Honestly, I don’t know if you'll read this. You’re a good kid, you shouldn’t be trying to help someone like me. Sometimes it’s just too late. It ain’t your fault. It’s just how life is. 

If on the off chance you ARE reading this: what the hell are you doing kid? Didn’t I tell you to focus on school? What are you doing visiting a shitty place like this huh?

P.S. I don’t think I ever gave you my name. That’s my bad. You can call me “Twice”.

Twice, it’s kind of like a hero name. Or a villain name more like - since he, yeah, is probably a villain. Still, Izuku frowns the longer he stares at the letter. Twice says he’s not a good guy, that’s where they’ll have to disagree. Izuku doesn’t think it’s too late. If it were, Twice wouldn’t be trying so hard to drive Izuku away, and he isn’t even putting much effort into it. He’s probably committed a few crimes if he’s looking for work in the League, but Izuku sincerely doubts he actually hurt anyone. 

Izuku sits down against the railing across from the door. He reaches for a pencil and scribbles a reply on the back of the note. 

Twice,

I'm glad to hear you enjoyed the recipe. My mom likes to make it when she’s tired and we need to use up the vegetables in the fridge. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s too late for you. I tend to trust my gut when it comes to people and I think you’re a genuinely nice person. 

I was actually walking here when a group of people gave me a bunch of pamphlets. I’m already up to my gills in homework, but maybe you’d like to read through them? 

I’ll come by tomorrow with another recipe, see you then.

• College Boy

All he can hope now is that Twice doesn’t take too much offense when he sees the titles. Izuku’s already planning to come back tomorrow and see if there’ll be a reply. Maybe leave another recipe as a peace offering, something that doesn’t need a stove. Or any kitchen appliance.

Han is there to greet him when Izuku get’s home, twisting between his legs and scrunching his eyes with pleasure. Izuku pets the big baby and heads to his room, the almost silent pat pat pat letting him know Han is following. He drops his bag and flops onto bed, groaning when Han hops up and settles on the small of his back. Izuku throws an arm off his bed and tries his best to pull up his backpack without knocking Han from his perch. He sighs and pulls out his notebook, staring at the page of English homework with the vain hope it would catch fire. 

He’s halfway through when his phone goes off in his pocket, making Han depart with a displeased mrow. He sees “ALL MIGHT” on the caller ID and almost falls off the bed in his hurry to sit up and answer. “A-All Might! Hi?” He hangs his head, mouthing ‘hi?’ with a cringe. 

“Young Midoriya!” All Might’s voice comes in a little grainy over the phone. Izuku can tell he’s in his true form, he’s lacking a sense of performance he always has in his bigger form. “I’m calling to let you know I actually found a place for you to intern at.” 

“Really?” Unease turns in his stomach. Most teachers don't go out of their way to find opportunities for their students like this. One for All makes things a little more complicated, but it kind of feels like a form of nepotism? But nepotism implies that All Might is like, his dad or something and Izuku’s cutting that train of thought off before his brain crashes. 

“Yes. An old coworker of mine is willing to take you on. To be honest, it’ll be more like a part time job than an internship. You’ll be training and helping with paperwork until you get your provisional license next semester.”

“That’s great.” and despite Izuku’s hangups, it is great. He’s been wanting to spar against different people. He’s letting himself fall into a rhythm with Gran, and he’s willing to say that’s part of the reason Stain got that hit in at Hosu. “What days?”

“Just the weekends, my boy. You’re already so busy during the week.” There’s a pause, “Is that okay? I didn’t really ask before I told him you’d be okay with it. I can call him back-”

“It’s okay.” Izuku interrupts All Might. Izuku interrupts All Might. He’s going to need to sit and think about that later. “Besides, this was kinda the point right? Keep me busy so I don’t do anything stupid.” Like, say, visiting a guy he’s 98% sure is an active part of the League. Why do people let Izuku do anything on his own? The world may never know. 

“I still should have consulted you about it. I’m sorry about that, my boy.”

The consideration makes something in Izuku’s chest go all warm and fuzzy. “It’s okay,” he repeats, meaning it a little more than he did the first time. “Who’s the hero you talked to?”

“Sir Nighteye.”

Izuku sucks in a breath and keeps it there. “Your old sidekick?” But Sir Nighteye was a lot more than just a sidekick. When he was working with All Might the success rate of All Might’s missions went up by 4%, and that number was already in the 90’s. He played a major role in the decline of organized crime, helping All Might target critical operations that weakened the yakuza enough to strike a finishing blow. Is someone like him really willing to teach someone like Izuku? “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be telling you if I wasn’t.” All Might’s tone becomes concerned after a beat of silence, “You don’t sound excited, young Midoriya. If you don’t want to work with him I can ask someone else. It’s no issue.” 

Here’s the thing though: it is an issue - to Izuku, anyways. All Might has already sunk so much time into him. Izuku doesn’t want to reject the offer, he doesn’t feel like he can. All Might sees something worth teaching in him, but the more All Might does for him the less Izuku feels like he’s earned any of it. “N-no! I was just surprised, that’s all.” Izuku can deal with the discomfort. He just has to prove he’s worth the effort, he reasons. “When will I start?”

“He’s finishing up a case for the Hero Commission, so it’ll be the weekend after this one. I gave him your email so he can give you the time.”

“Okay,” Izuku says. It feels weird hearing about the Hero Commision after he learned they were trying to reach him. Gran made his opinion on it clear, but Izuku remembers seeing All Might look like he wanted to say something in return this morning. “Hey, All Might? What do you think about the-?” His phone buzzes against his cheek, ”MIDORIYA HISASHI” glowing across the screen. Izuku had completely forgotten his dad was supposed to call tonight. “I’m so sorry,” he says to All Might, “My dad is calling. Can we talk about this tomorrow morning?”

“Of course we can, Young Midoriya.” Something in All Might’s voice sounds more strained than usual when he says it. Izuku thanks him and hangs up with a quick goodbye, instantly pressing the “accept call” button. 

“Izuku!” His dad's voice is as grainy as ever. You’d think working overseas he could afford a higher quality phone. “How’s your day been?”

Izuku pats Han on the head, letting him grab his hand with both paws and nuzzle it. “It’s been good.” He replies, “Just got home from school. English is hard.” his fidgeting gets worse the longer their small talk goes on until he’s digging his fingernails into his thumb hard enough to leave indents. “Hey, dad?”

“Yes, son?” It still feels weird to be called that after so long, but his dad’s voice is open and warm, almost excited that Izuku interrupted him to ask something. To be fair Izuku hasn’t done anything like that since he was three and entered the “but why?” phase. 

“What do you think of the Hero Commission?” Izuku’s already planning on doing his own research, but surely it won’t hurt to get a few different opinions first. He only realizes after he’s said it that he’s offered zero context. “Um, the hero I job-shadowed with said they've been trying to reach me. After the stuff…with that noumu-thing in Hosu.”

His dad goes deathly quiet over the line. For a second Izuku wishes they were video calling, at least he’d be able to see the kind of face his dad is making. “And he hasn’t let them contact you?” His dad clarifies. 

“No.” 

His dad gets quiet again, considering. “Do you want my honest opinion?” he lets out a sigh when Izuku says yes, “They have a lot of influence on the hero scene. The people they train always end up in the top 50. Ah, but then one of their poster heroes killed the president of the commission at the time and no one’s been able to figure out why.” 

Izuku remembers that. The news covered the whole thing for months, from her arrest to her conviction. The prosecutors said it was a psychotic break from her job, but Izuku always thought it was strange how quickly she snapped. He scanned all videos of her in public before the shooting. She exhibited no behaviors that matched up with other heroes who broke down from the pressure. Judging by what he just said, Izuku’s dad also doubts the official motive.

“I think your mentor was smart to keep them away.” Dad continues, “as long as you don’t outright reject them, they won’t try to alienate you by blacklisting you.” Izuku makes a sound of agreement in his throat, clenching the phone a little tighter as he focuses on Han’s soft ear fur. “I’m sorry you’re going through this, Izuku. What happened to you in Hosu was horrible. It’s not fair that they’re trying to take advantage of you after something so upsetting.”

Izuku can feel the anger on his behalf through the phone. Neither Izuku or his mom get angry when something happens to them. They get upset, sure, but it never sparks into the kind of heat simmering in his dad’s tone. Izuku’s mind settles when he hears it, because it means that what happened was wrong and Izuku’s discomfort or hurt is valid. “I’ll be okay, dad.”

“You always are,” dad sighs, “you’re a resilient kid. Just let your dad worry about you, okay?” 

Izuku chews his lip. He’d started to forget what his dad sounded like until he started to call again. The knowledge that he still cares about Izuku, is still worried about his well being, soothes an ache Izuku wasn’t even aware of. “Okay.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” dad declares, “how are your friends doing?”

Izuku blinks a few times, “Um, they’re good. Finals are in a few weeks, we’ve been trying to start preparing for it.” More like Izuku and Iida are trying to prepare. Uraraka is content to wait until one week out and Todoroki… His brain decides to derail at that exact second to think about lunch again. 

Dad breaks through his thoughts. “Izuku?” 

Izuku snaps out of it with a hurried, “yeah?”

“You sound a little distracted. Is there something on your mind?” His tone lilts, drawing out a playful “or some one? ”.

“What? No, I-” But then he starts to think about it. About Todoroki. Does he ever get nervous when he’s talking to Iida? Uraraka? If either of them held his hand Izuku would be happy, maybe a little flustered, but would Izuku’s heart pulse in his ears the same way it does when Todoroki’s palm curled around his? The way his hair flutters in the midday wind, how his eyes light up with excitement whenever he sees Han, how he looked at Izuku like he was something special yesterday– Oh boy. 

Izuku feels his face catch on fire as he stutters, “Uh. Gotta go! Love you dad, bye!” He hangs up right as his dad starts laughing. Izuku flops down on the bed, tossing the phone to the side. Han ambles up to his head and tries sitting on his face to drown him with white fluff, Izuku allows it. Under a purring cat, Izuku lets out the quietest scream he can manage.

Chapter Text

Nighteye’s agency does indeed send an email with the time and date of Izuku’s internship. He saves it in his calendar and starts to dread how the days keep passing, crawling closer and closer to Saturday. He keeps himself busy between talking with his friends, training, and studying. He’s not as excited for finals as usual, but it’s a better distraction than trying to make sense of his feelings about Todoroki. 

Izuku says that, but then his phone lights up with a text and his heart does a stutter-jumpstart when he sees it’s from Todoroki. It’s not in the group chat either, his heart does a little flip-flop on top of what it did before. 

Received: 9:28 A.M.

From: Todoroki 

Your internship starts today, right? Good luck.

Izuku refuses to let his heart do any more acrobatics. He can’t handle the kind of stunts it’s trying to pull off. But he mentioned the internship in passing once during lunch, the fact Todoroki remembered enough to know it was today? Izuku has to correct his text no less than three times due to shaky fingers. 

Sent: 9:30 A.M.

Yep! I still have an hour and a half before I need to head out but I’m so nervous. I couldn’t sleep well at all

Yeah, and that was totally not also because he was remembering how it felt to hold Todoroki’s hand. No way. Ever since that lunch where Izuku initiated, their hands always find their way to each other on the bench. Uraraka knew from the dang start, but now Izuku thinks Iida has picked up on it, too. He’s just too nice to comment on it. If he starts talking about relationships between classmates Izuku might spontaneously combust, even when it's Todoroki who can light himself on fire. 

Received: 9:30 A.M.

From: Todoroki 

That’s unfortunate. I hope you sleep better tonight.

Izuku takes a few moments to type out a quick thank you and proceeds to smack his cheeks with both hands. Get it together! He just said he hoped Izuku would sleep better. He was thinking about Izuku. He was concerned–

Izuku gives himself another smack. 

He doesn’t know how the time passes, only that it does. He’s too busy worrying to notice it. He heads down to the kitchen and eats a late breakfast, petting Han as he munches his cereal.  Mom’s watching the news in the living room. She wishes him good luck before he leaves. She’s still a little mad at him about the informant stuff, but she’s been supportive of the internship. Izuku thinks it’s because All Might came over to talk about the details with her. There was a noticeable difference between her before and her after, Izuku still has trouble getting rid of the guilt for making her worry. 

Nighteye’s office stands in front of him, clean and imposing in the late morning light. Izuku chose his most professional outfit that isn’t his school uniform for his first day, with a duffel bag of gym clothes if he ends up needing it. 

This isn’t like working with Gran for job shadowing. Izuku had the chance to meet him before working with him. Gran isn’t the type to give handouts, he let Izuku job shadow him because Izuku earned it, simple as that. All Might said that Nighteye agreed to teach him, but has no idea what the man is like, only statistics and percentages that just serve to emphasize how out of Izuku’s league he is. If it weren’t for All Might, Izuku probably wouldn’t even be a blip on Nighteye’s radar. He thinks about all of this while staring at the door and debating whether or not to use Notice Me Not. Hiding won’t give a good first impression. It’s still tempting. He can see a sidekick manning the front desk through the glass doors. She sees him and lights up, waving him in.

The Sidekick is a young lady with blue skin and a darker blue bob cut. Izuku could say more about her outfit but he’s trying not to look at it much - there’s a lot of underboob and staring might give her the wrong idea. “You must be Midoriya.” She says once he’s stepped in. “I’ll let Sir know you’re here, would you like a snack while you wait?” She gestures to a basket of gummies, pretzels, and nuts. Izuku takes a bag of gummies with a murmured thanks and takes a seat. 

The nice Sidekick calls in and lets Sir Nighteye know Izuku’s here and tells him it shouldn’t be long. For the first five minutes Izuku doesn’t question anything. Ten minutes, same thing. Fifteen, and he starts to wonder what Sir Nighteye is doing. It’s probably really important. Izuku doesn’t go to the desk and ask, even though the nice Sidekick is starting to look uncomfortable. He starts fidgeting with his phone, checking his emails again to see if he got the time right. He did. Twenty more minutes go by, and Izuku’s embarrassment steadily grows until he’s hyper aware of his own heartbeat and can feel the heat radiating off his hands and face. 

At the forty-five minute mark the intercom on the nice Sidekick’s desk goes off, she picks it up with a hurried “Yes, Sir?” and lights up, “Great, I’ll send him in.” Izuku’s already standing by the time she looks up and tells him to go through the second door on the right. His hand stops on the handle, trying to see anything past the frosted glass of the office door. He can’t make out anything other than the vague shape of a figure sitting at a desk. “Come on,” Izuku whispers to himself, pulling up everything he can muster to open the door and step inside. 

The first thing Izuku registers is red, yellow, and blue. The whole office is covered in All Might merchandise. Posters, limited edition collectables, even the mug on the desk has the iconic bunny-ear hairpieces. Sir Nighteye is bland amongst the bright and colorful surroundings. White suit, perfectly combed hair, and eyes that could stare into Izuku’s soul if he was brave enough to hold that gaze. Izuku swallows and says, “H-hello, Sir, I’m-”

“Midoriya Izuku.” Nighteye’s voice makes Izuku flinch into alertness, his hands at his side and back straight. The man fixes his glasses, “Protege of All Might, inheritor of One for All. The so-called ‘Hero of Hosu’. I’ve heard all about you.” 

Ah. Izuku would have liked to forget that title the public gave him. He bites the edge of his tongue. “I, uh, I’ve heard about you, too.”

A raised eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Your rate of solved cases is unmatched.” Izuku says, focusing on the All Might mug instead of Sir Nighteye. If he tries to look at him Izuku might lose his nerve. He wants to prove that All Might wasn’t wrong to recommend him. “And you had a big part in All Might’s war on organized crime.”

Nighteye scoffs, “You did some digging.” He puts his elbows on the desk - next to the All Might mousepad - and leans his weight on them, staring at Izuku over his lanky fingers. “So the question is, why are you here?”

“All Might thought I could learn from you.”

“That’s what All Might wants. Why do you, as the next holder of One for All, All Might’s chosen disciple, ” Izuku almost flinches at the heat in those words, “want to work with me?”

“I…” He wasn’t expecting to be put on the spot like this. The words in his head get jumbled and stuck in his throat, leaving him fumbling for something, anything that might sound coherent. He must take too long, Nighteye sighs through his nose.

“No matter. I will let you work under me because All Might has requested as much, but whether or not you actually benefit from this is up to how closely you heed my advice. Am I clear?” 

He has a point. All Might might have gotten Izuku this opportunity, but it’s up to him to make the most of it. He went out as Wallflower in part because he didn’t expect All Might to understand where he was coming from, and even if he had he wouldn’t have expected any help. That independence has always been useful to Izuku in the past, he wasn’t ready for it to turn around and bite him the way it did. How well Izuku does under Nighteye is a direct reflection on All Might and the faith he put in Izuku. He will not fail. Izuku stares into Nighteye’s flinty expression and nods, “Yes, sir.” 

The hero takes his arms off the desk, satisfied with Izukus answer. “Very well then. We’ll start your assessment now.” He reaches a hand into his suit pocket and pulls out a little black stamp. Shuffling around one of the shelves in his desk, he places a blank piece of paper on the desktop in front of him. “Your goal is to stamp this paper with the stamp currently in my hand. My goal is to keep you from doing that. You will have two minutes to try.” 

Stamp the paper. Easy in theory, but the way Nighteye is zeroing in on Izuku gives him the impression that it’s going to be much harder in practice. Sir Nighteye isn’t a frontline hero, but he also hasn’t suffered any major defeats. Izuku’s used to being underestimated, so he takes care not to do the same and approaches this with the same kind of caution he would with Gran Torino - who can definitely kick harder than Nighteye.

Izuku takes a ready stance as Nighteye crosses the desk. His clothes tug at the shoulders, snug and not suited for a fight. He doesn’t think Nighteye will let him go and change into his gym clothes, though. Izuku has no idea what kind of fighting style Nighteye uses, closing the distance could be reckless with the man’s longer reach. He chooses to let Nighteye make the first move. 

The first blow is a front leg roundhouse, quick and far more effective with Nighteye’s longer legs. Izuku steps in and blocks, taking the reduced force of the kick with a quick exhale. He reaches for the stamp, but his arm is grabbed and the world spins as he’s thrown to the wall. The impact stuns him for a second but Izuku shakes it off and gets back to his feet, watching Nighteye carefully. 

Nighteye doesnt follow up with any other attacks. “Hm, you have decent reaction time. But you don't know what to do once your opponent has a hold on you.” 

Izuku says nothing in reply. His mind is a whirlwind, trying to figure out his next plan. The two minute time limit is an issue, if Izuku had a little longer he could probably get a better sense of what does and doesn't work on Nighteye. As it is, the seconds keep slipping and Izuku's not experienced enough to finish this with overwhelming force. Nighteye’s used to his opponents being stronger than him, Izuku needs to fight smarter, not harder. 

He still needs more practice, but Izuku’s best shot here is trying to turn on Notice Me Not when Nighteye blinks or otherwise looks away from him. There’s no telling how that might react with the hero's Quirk, but Izuku has yet to encounter someone who can sense him with their Quirk while Notice Me Not is up. It’s not unreasonable to operate on the assumption that trend will hold. Trying to turn on Notice Me Not is kind of like flipping a switch. Trying to turn it on in the brief half second that Nighteye is blinking is like throwing an impromptu rave: flicking it on and off and stopping once it succeeds so he doesn’t accidentally turn it off out of reflex.

Izuku’s time comes when he takes a step forward. Nighteye sighs, blinking at the tailend of his breath. Notice Me Not shoots up and Izuku moves to the left. Nighteye might not be able to notice him, but he can remember where Izuku was right before Notice Me Not activated. When Nighteye focuses on where Izuku was his eyes widen before squinting. He changes stances, bringing the hand holding the stamp closer to his chest. 

An idea starts to take form in Izuku’s head. He passes the desk and grabs one of the many thick inkwell pens, feeling the weight in his palm. He has to time this well, or his Quirk will fall away before he strikes. He moves to stand behind Nighteye, the stamp dancing right before his eyes. Feeling the weight of the pen one more time, Izuku motions once, twice, and underhand tosses the pen on the third. It clatters off to the side of where Nighteye is looking, making him zero in there. With most of his attention elsewhere, Izuku can move a little faster without Notice Me Not faltering. 

A single second behind the pen, Izuku jumps at the same time he grabs the stamp with both hands, bringing his legs in and shoving them into Nighteye’s side. The stamp comes loose from Nighteye’s grip, the man himself stumbling away with a startled wheeze. Izuku himself drops to the floor with a grunt, scrambling to his feet and pulling Notice Me Not up again as he watches Nighteye lose his balance, catching himself with both arms before his back could hit the floor. 

It’s hard for Izuku to walk at a pace that won’t make his Quirk deactivate, his heart wants him to sprint but logic keeps his nerves barely contained. Nighteye is back on his feet, but he can’t spot Izuku. A vein in his forehead begins to bulge, Izuku thinks he’s trying to use his Quirk but isn't sure - the man has kept details of it very well hidden from the public. He notices the stamp is gone and rushes for the desk. He moves to grab the paper and yank it away, but Izuku had just enough of a head start. 

Izuku stamps the paper once, a solid tap that brands the bland white with a bright red “APPROVED”. The sound makes Notice Me Not shred away like soaked paper, and once Nighteye spots him Izuku sees pure anger flash across the man’s face, but it’s so fast it must have been a trick of the light. Face to face with Nighteye, Izuku places the stamp on the desk and steps away. The confidence from the fight flees back to that little corner in his heart, making him twitch under Nighteye’s silent gaze. 

“I see you’re comfortable using your original Quirk.” Nighteye grits out, “You were clever. But you weren’t up-front. I can only see that as hurting your career as a hero.” 

Izuku frowns. True, Notice me Not isn’t a flashy Quirk - the exact opposite, truthfully - but what does that have to do with his hero career? It’ll be useful in a tight spot, it’s already been useful at least a dozen times over. “How would it hurt me?”

“You’ve inherited One for All, the accumulation of strength from the holders before you, from All Might himself , and you didn’t even use it once against me. Was I not worth it, Midoriya?”

“No!” Izuku waves his hands frantically, “I just…there wasn’t a need.” If Notice Me Not is a whisper, One for All is a megaphone in a tunnel. One is in your face, the other avoids attention. If he’d used One for All he’d be moving too fast for Notice Me Not to stick. “I had a plan and-” He’s interrupted by a quick knock on the door.

Someone opens it seconds later with a cheery, “Hi, Sir! I heard the intern was coming in and I wanted to see him for myself!” Blond hair in one big cowlick and deep blue eyes - Izuku almost feels like he’s looking at a comic book character. The teenager notices him and beams, “Ah, he’s here already!” He’s on Izuku before he can really react, grabbing one of his hands and shaking it vigorously. “Toogata Mirio, pleased to meet you!” 

Izuku can’t do much of anything else but lets himself get jiggled around like a plate of jello. “Nice to meet you, too.” He manages to get out.

Nighteye watches all of this with a tired acceptance of Toogata’s behavior. “We’ve talked about you waiting more than a second after knocking.” he sighs. “But you’re correct. This is Midoriya Izuku, he’s going to be working with us for the foreseeable future.” He looks between Izuku and Toogata, the light of an idea flickering into being behind his eyes. “I’d like to see you spar with Toogata to get a better understanding of your physical capabilities.” He looks pained, but he adds, “I see how my challenge might have made you rely on your original Quirk. So I’d like to see how you handle One for All”

“Um…” Was he really supposed to mention that so casually in front of someone else? The panic is short lived, Toogata pats Izuku’s shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, I already know about One for All.” His smile is genuinely comforting, a gentle sincerity that helps Izuku’s nerves settle. He leads the way through the door, keeping a hand on Izuku's shoulder the entire time. Izuku’s usually against strangers touching him, but Toogata is so warm he allows it without really thinking about it. “Now let's go, I wanna see what you can do!” 

The office actually has a sparring room - an empty space with plenty of closet doors. One of the doors is cracked open, Izuku spots some solid slabs of…something leaning against each other.  The perimeter of an arena is marked by pristine paint, a solid rectangle two meters from the walls. Toogata’s already wearing something easy to move in. Izuku remembers his duffel bag and starts looking around for a place to change. 

“First door on the right.” Toogata tells him, already starting to stretch.

Izuku nods and goes to get changed. The difference in mobility is immediately obvious after he’s slipped on his shorts and plain T-shirt. He has a hard time believing he actually managed that kick against Nighteye in those pants, he should probably check for any rips later. 

Toogata is right where Izuku left him, moving on to jumping jacks of all things. “You’re back! Great! So, I was thinking nothing serious, just a friendly spar. Sound good?” He doesn’t wait for Izuku to reply, “Great! Get warmed up first, pulling a muscle is no fun.”

Izuku nods, doing some stretches of his own. Mirio’s a lot more intimidating of a fighter, appearance wise. He’s bulky under those clothes, but light on his feet, too. Strength and speed, with a high chance of strategic thinking if his working with Nighteye is any indication. 

Both Izuku and Toogata take their places two meters away from each other. Toogata keeps an easy smile on his face, Izuku gives a weak one of his own. 

Nighteye’s voice is a gunshot between them. “Begin!” 

And then Toogata’s clothes fall off. All of them. 

Izuku chokes and fumbles his lunge, stumbling forward. Toogata steps to the side and lets him regain his footing. “Yeah, it’s part of my Quirk.” he says, slowly starting to melt into the floor. Izuku’s seeing it, but he’s having a hard time believing it. This is probably what it feels like to be an NPC watching the player character glitch, only this is real and Izuku is supposed to be fighting this guy.

Izuku shakes off the initial surprise, however intense it was, when Toogata completely vanishes into the floor. He leaps back right as Toogata reemerges, narrowly dodging a wicked uppercut. And Toogata is still naked . 

“Not bad!” Toogata says, bouncing on his feet. “You’ve got good reaction times, but try landing a hit on me!” 

One for All flashes through his veins, filling him with vigor. But when he darts forwards his first punch phases through Toogata’s midsection. Izuku doesn't even feel any difference between himself and the arm in Toogata, it’s just pure air. He hops and goes for a kick, but that phases through as well. This time, Toogata grabs his leg and tugs, making him lose his balance again. He's not as forgiving this time, crouching to land a hit on Izuku’s solar plexus so hard he actually gets airtime. 

It takes Izuku a few moments to remember how to breathe. Staring up at the ceiling he fights the need to curl up and vomit. Strength, speed, and technique: the components of power. Toogata has those three in spades, and that blow only proved it. Izuku’s lungs kickstart, forcing him to inhale a burning gulp of air. Gran kicked him there a bunch of times but Izuku’s usually pretty good at exhaling before he gets hit. Toogata got him before he could even think of it, making this all the more painful. 

Toogata enters his eyesight. He has his pants on. Thank god. “Whoops. Mighta put too much force into that.” He offers a hand for Izuku to get to his feet. Izuku takes it, still wheezing a little. “You okay?” All Izuku can manage is nod, words are still a little beyond him. “I’ll grab you some water or something. Stay here.” And then he’s gone, leaving Izuku alone with Nighteye. 

“He was supposed to be the next successor, by the way. An ideal Quirk that could work in tandem with One for All. Yet Toshinori chose you instead.” 

Izuku feels like he lost his breath all over again. 

Toogata comes back before Nighteye can say anything else, hurrying over to hand Izuku a water bottle. “There you go!” He declares, “I don’t know what Sir plans to train you on, but you can practice it with me. I won’t even phase out of the hits. Scouts honor.”

It’s meant to be kind, or Izuku wants to believe it is, but his mind is somewhere else. Toogata's handle on his Quirk is amazing while Izuku has only just started to branch out with Notice Me Not. How well can Toogata control it? How long did it take for him to get to this level of mastery? Sir Nighteye was right, all Izuku can think about is how much more practical One for All would be with Toogata’s intangibility. With villains like the League popping up, One for All might need a holder that can use it to its fullest capacity. Toogata might be-

Izuku shuts these thoughts out. It doesn’t matter, these feelings have already clustered together and settled in his bones, making his smile just a tad weaker. “Thanks.”

—

Sir Nighteye has Izuku look over old case files after the sparring match. Apparently All Might requested he also help with Izuku’s detective skills. Izuku just hopes Nighteye doesn’t know about Wallflower, he doesn’t think he can be criticized about that any more than he has been. He was stupid, he was reckless, etcetera etcetera. It all starts sounding like a broken record after the fifth repetition. 

He starts out with a description of the crime and the initial information. From there, he has to make a list of people to interview and/or possible leads he can infer from that information. Then he flips the page and sees if any of his guesses were correct. There’s always an element of unpredictability, sometimes a surprise witness appears or a lead goes cold. Either way, Nighteye expects him to go through twenty cases before he’s dismissed for the day and that’s what Izuku does. He wants nothing more than to run and hide as Nighteye goes over his work, but his own curiosity keeps him in place. He wants to see how well he did, but he could do without the subtle barbs in every critique. He just has to endure, Izuku reminds himself, endure and improve. Take Nighteye’s corrections and learn from them. He’s here for a reason, he won’t waste the opportunity because he can’t deal with some harsh feedback.

At the end of it all, Izuku’s drained, both physically and emotionally. It could have gone worse, yeah, but it also could have gone a lot better. He wanders around for a bit, not willing to go home just yet. Mom will ask how it went and Izuku doesn’t think he’s up to talking about that just yet. Maybe he can check in on Twice? It’s been a few days since he left that reply under the welcome mat. He popped by to drop off the recipe as promised, but there hadn’t been anything under the welcome mat for him. Maybe Twice has replied by now. The duffel bag has a musty All Might hoodie stashed away in it - leftover from one of the conventions he went to a year or so back. He dons it and grabs a mask from the convenience store before heading over. 

The apartment complex is just as run down as the last time, but Izuku can tell the hallway in front of Twice's room has been swept a little - the leaves and old pieces of garbage aren’t as scattered around. Izuku crouches to lift the welcome mat and lo and behold, there’s another letter. 

Mr college boy, 

You’re either too kind for your own good or just plain stupid. Not that I can talk. I’m stupid, too. 

The next part of the letter has been scribbled over and rewritten at least two times. The legible bits read: 

I didn’t know how to take the pamphlets, college boy. Guys like me are kind of used to people saying they want to help just to feel good about themself. But I trust my gut, too, and I think you actually mean it. So I picked one of those dumb pamphlets up and read it. Ring the doorbell four times, you’ll see what I mean. 

Izuku does so with a healthy amount of caution. He hears shuffling behind the door, footsteps hurrying from one side of the apartment to the other. A plastic plate or something like it clatters to the floor and there’s a muffled curse. When Twice opens the door, he isn’t alone. In a gloved hand is a tiny tuxedo kitten, a few months old and with a splash of white across its eyes - almost like Twice’s own mask. The feline shows no sign of hating being manhandled. Its tiny yellow eyes squinted in contentment, even as it wiggles its tiny limbs in the air. 

“College boy!” Twice shoves the kitten in Izuku’s face, “This is Mino, short for Domino! Ain't he a bag of fleas? I’d kill for him. One of those pamphlets said having a pet helps you take care of yourself, and wouldn’t you know it some asshole left little Mino here,” Mino mews on cue, exposing needle-thin kitty teeth. “Alone in a box. Thought that stuff only happened in the movies, you know? If I ever meet the bastard who did it, I’ll break his kneecaps!” 

A tad extreme, but Izuku’s had similar sentiments whenever he thought about how Han lost his ear. It really does take a special kind of evil to hurt animals. “He’s cute.” Izuku reaches out and lets Mino sniff his hand, pleasantly surprised when the little kitty headbutts him right away. “He’s very friendly.”

“Yeah, good sense of character and all that. Then again, he likes me.” He brushes off Izuku’s token protest, “But yeah. Feeding this little guy reminds me to eat, and it’s nice to not come back to an empty apartment.” He pauses, reaching his free hand up to run it over Mino’s head. “You alright? You seem off. And that’s coming from me!” 

Izuku manages a weak chuckle. He wasn’t expecting Twice to pick up on that. “Rough day with an internship. I don’t think my mentor likes me much.” After meeting Toogata and learning he had been a candidate for One for All, Izuku can guess why. Nighteye’s taught Toogata for a long time, Izuku just barged in after All Might called in a favor or something.

“Bullshit! Who could hate you? Guy’s got his head up his ass. Give it some time. Or kick his ass, I’m not the boss of you.” Mino paws at Twice, his meows growing more insistent. “Well, that’s the sign for dinner. Take care, alright? 

Somehow, that cheers Izuku up a little. “I’m glad you’re doing better, Twice.” And he means it. The apartment looks cleaner from where he’s standing, and Mino looks like he’s in good health. Maybe Izuku can drop off some of the cat toys Han has lost interest in.  

Twice vanishes back behind his door, calling out, “Now get off my welcome mat!” Izuku shakes his head fondly. Mino’s in good hands. 

When Izuku gets home his mom asks how the internship went. He fudges things a little and says that they worked on his problem solving skills and basic combat. He’s quick to eat dinner and shuffles off to clean up. Han is waiting for him on his folded pajamas, begging for his usual tithes of head pats and cuddles. After schooching Han to the side Izuku gets changed and flops onto the bed, letting Han settle on his chest. He rubs circles between Han’s shoulder blades, eliciting a purr as he goes over the day’s events. 

The stuff with Nighteye could have gone better. He’s not sure how, it’s just a gut feeling. He suspects that he wasn’t supposed to succeed the first test Nighteye gave him, but that’s more of a hunch than anything with solid evidence. He’s used to harsh treatment, choosing to hide his Quirk ended up causing him a lot more pain from his classmates than he thought it would. Part of him sees how Nighteye talks to him, looks at him, even breathes in his direction and thinks back to those times, but the key difference here is that Izuku isn’t hiding anymore. 

 It doesn't matter if Nighteye wanted him to fail, Izuku succeeded anyways. If it comes down to it, he’ll keep proving Nighteye wrong. He’ll throw himself into the casefiles, he’ll spar with Toogata as many times as it takes. Yeah, Izuku isn’t intangible, but he thinks he’s still got something to offer as a successor of One for All.

Still, it’s weird to think that One for All would have gone to Toogata if Izuku had never met All Might that day. His friends would be nothing more than faces on the TV broadcast of the sports festival. Todoroki probably would have remained a stranger he ran into one fateful day. He’s glad things turned out the way they did. 

Izuku sighs and picks up his phone, looking to distract himself. There’s some stuff in the group chat between him, Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki, but his eyes linger on his dad’s number. He’s uncomfortably spirited about coming to Izuku’s defense, but maybe he has some advice about this Nighteye stuff? He works overseas, dad’s probably worked with people who didn’t like him. But asking right now might make dad want to call, and Izuku doesn’t have that kind of energy right now. He still wants to send something though, see how he responds. They’ve kept contact through phone calls, this would be changing the formula a little.

He chooses to send a picture of Han sitting on him. The angle is horrible, and he caught Han mid-blink so he kind of looks like an alien, but he still sends it. A speech bubble pops up on dad’s corner of the chat almost right away. It’s an outdated emoji, Izuku smiles and sends one back.

Chapter Text

Izuku hits the ground for the fifth time that day, remembering enough of Gran’s trailing to at least fall correctly. It still hurts, but at least he doesn’t hit his head. The LED lights in the gymnasium mock him overhead, they’re quickly blocked by Toogata. 

“That was good!” He declares, pulling Izuku up off the ground and dusting him off. He doesn’t even have a hair out of place, Izuku laments. “You have a good grasp of the techniques. We just have to work on putting it all together.” 

They’ve been sparring for almost an hour, taking breaks every so often for Izuku to catch his breath and let Toogata offer him some tips. Toogata’s great, he’s been nothing but helpful and approaches everything with a contagious enthusiasm. It’s like standing next to a space heater in the dead of winter. Izuku, who has never had an upperclassman he could look up to, is in awe of him. Nighteye, on the other hand…

Izuku winces when he makes the mistake of looking in the hero’s direction. Off to the side of the gym, he watches every spar with the same impassive face he had on yesterday. Izuku has no idea what the man is thinking about. 

Toogata notices the flinch and frowns. “Are you okay? I hit you kinda hard that time.”

“I’m fine.” Izuku waves off the concern. Even if he was hurting, he probably wouldn’t say it. Nighteye’s looking for weaknesses, anything that would further prove Toogata should have inherited One for All. Izuku won’t give him more ammunition than he already has. It’s not exactly the first time he’s dealt with adults wanting to see him fail.

“That’s enough for today.” Nighteye’s cool tone cuts Toogata’s protest off. “Mirio, you have patrol in half an hour. Go and get dressed. Midoriya, you’ll be looking at cases again. Meet me in the records room when you’re ready.” Then he turns and leaves, adding a “don’t be late.” over his shoulder. Izuku has the strangest suspicion that any time he arrives will be “late”. Maybe he’s being too pessimistic. It’s the second day, he reasons, maybe Nighteye was just in a bad mood yesterday.

Yeah, Izuku doesn’t even believe that. 

The records room is almost as big as the gym, but maybe a thousand times more crowded. Bookshelves upon bookshelves, barely enough space between them for Izuku to crouch down and look at the files on the bottom shelves. It’s a good thing Izuku doesn’t have claustrophobia, but he just might develop it before this internship is through. To the left of the entrance is a tiny desk - only a bit bigger than his desk at school. It’s made of good material, but it’s worn and rickety from lack of maintenance. It rocks to any side where pressure is applied, making writing on it a challenge.

Nighteye stands at the front of the desk, a stack of files as tall as Izuku’s forearms making it tilt dangerously to one side. “You’re late.” Izuku’s not surprised, but he is vindicated, “You’ll be going through this stack before the day is through.” Nighteye continues, “like yesterday, I will check your work after you’re done.” Yeah, and Izuku is sure that Nighteye will let him know where he went wrong, in detail. Izuku avoids eye contact as he takes his seat and gets to work. 

The first file is simple enough, a murder case. Most of those tend to be people the victim knew or had some relation to. Maybe it’s weird that Izuku’s thinking so casually about it. Someone died, that’s not exactly a good thing, but the case has already been solved and getting the information on paper offers a level of distance Izuku wouldn’t have otherwise. He's sure in the moment, experiencing all of it first hand, made everything very real for these investigators. Either way, he has a new respect for Detective Tsukauchi’s work. 

Izuku ends up being right about the culprit being someone the victim knew. A crime of passion that ended in a second degree murder conviction. He puts the file to the side and starts on another one. The process isn’t all that different from how it was yesterday, Izuku falls into a rhythm without really meaning to. Nighteye said he should pay the utmost attention to each case - if he treats every case the same, he might miss something. It’s good advice, but it also has Izuku’s brain melting after case twenty. He tries to read case twenty-one, but when the words start blending together he figures it’s time for a break. 

He gets up and stretches, heading for the break room. He saw a snack machine when Nighteye walked him past it, if Izuku’s fast enough he might be able to snag something and get back to the archive room without his absence being noticed. Getting away with using Notice Me Not is a lot harder once someone knows about it, especially the glaring weakness against recording devices.

The hallways are empty, leaving him to listen to his own feet on the tile. It’s odd how a Hero as accomplished as Nighteye only has a handful of sidekicks, but Izuku isn’t a Hero just yet, he doesn’t think he has room to comment. The break room is mercifully empty, and there’s no sign of Nighteye. Izuku grabs a juice and some chips, scurrying back to whence he came. 

Taking his seat again, Izuku pops open the bag of chips and eats one. He glances at case twenty-one again. The victim’s name feels familiar but Izuku doesn’t know why. He knows he’s seen the name recently, but where? Like most things on the tip of his tongue, the answer doesn’t come when he’s trying to remember. Instead it comes when izuku’s mid-sip of his orange juice, making him gasp and start coughing. 

Maeda Akira was the real name of Beehive, career sidekick for a pro hero who retired without breaking into the top 300. Her Quirk was Hive Mind, which Izuku feels is pretty self-explanatory. For such a useful Quirk, she tried to stay out of the way, being as uninteresting as possible. Odd, considering her name is listed on Pros who had been trained by the Hero Association. She centered in a minor scandal involving possession and supposed distribution of a Quirk-enhancing drug called Trigger. Case twenty-one isn’t the investigation presented at the trial though, it’s the investigation for Beehive’s death. 

Beehive was found dead in her cell exactly one week after her conviction. Approximately thirteen minutes after the guard performed a check in. Izuku feels his stomach roil at the crime scene photos, displaying her throat split open and bloody. Izuku swallows down the disgust and takes a better look at the picture. Cause of death was ruled a suicide. The report doesn't say what she used to slit her own throat, but the skin around the opening of the wound is intact, not torn like it would be with a blunt, improvised blade. That aside, the cut remains at a constant depth - even on the other side, where you’d think the angling would make it difficult if not impossible. 

Maybe he’s watched too many crime shows, but everything about this screams a setup. Izuku feels fear dance over his skin. Whoever Beehive got that Trigger from, it looks like they came back to tie up loose ends. He puts case twenty-one in the finished pile and keeps going, trying to get the images of blood and too-clean cuts out of his head. 

It takes two hours to get through the rest of the case files, and if Izuku has to look at another case report he’s going to cry. Nighteye hasn’t checked up on him once, leaving Izuku to abandon the files and start walking towards his office. He passes by the break room again, only this time it isn’t empty. 

Toogata looks up from his phone, a twizzler hanging halfway out of his mouth. He hasn’t changed out of his hero costume yet, he must have just gotten back from patrol. “Midoriya!” He gets up and starts walking with Izuku, finishing his snack in three quick bites. “I heard you were looking at cases and stuff. How’d that go?”

“Um…” Izuku could be honest or he could lie. It’s sad how quickly he chooses to lie. “It was okay. I just finished.”

“And now you’re going to tell Nighteye, right?” He nods when Izuku makes a confirming noise. “You’re a diligent guy, Midoriya. I tried reading through some of those reports and couldn’t get past the second page.” Izuku doesn’t blame him, those reports are some of the driest pieces of writing he’s seen.

Izuku glances at Toogata, observing him. Self confidence oozes from him with every step, that easy smile always in place. Was he always like this? Or was he like Izuku, having to build up the courage for every little thing? “Hey, Toogata?”

“Oh yeah,” Toogata smacks the palm of his hand with a curled fist, “I forgot to tell you yesterday: call me Mirio. We’re gonna be working together, after all!” 

“Right.” Izuku keeps his eyes on the tile in front of him. Mirio’s kind, he’s strong, he’s what enters people's heads when they hear “the next All Might”. But Izuku remembers that talk he had with All Might, when Todoroki’s advice had gotten to him. The world doesn’t need another All Might.

But what if it does?

“Do you have any advice to get better at hand-to-hand? I’ve got my taser, but…I don’t really like using it anymore.” Izuku feels his cheeks burn. It’s been weeks, and he still can’t look at it  “Sorry, you’re probably busy, and i’m already taking up a lot of your time and-”

Mirio’s voice doesn’t change at all. No sympathy, no pity, nothing. “Not at all. Besides, isn’t it kinda my job as your senior? Offering advice and stuff?” he looks down at Izuku and beams, “You can count on me! What did you want to work on?”

Anything. Everything. Izuku just doesn’t want to be useless. “My reflexes.” He says instead, “I react, but I’m always trying to shy away.” Startling, how similar his approach is in and out of combat. Old habits are hard to break.

“You’re afraid to get hit.” Mirio agrees, sparing none of Izuku’s feelings, “You just gotta keep sparring. It’s something that goes away with time. I used to flinch all the time, and I can phase through stuff! Do you have some classmates who'd like to meet up after school?”

A few come to mind. Now with a plan, Izuku nods, feeling a bit better about everything.  

They reach Nighteye’s office. Mirio notices Izuku hesitating and pats him on the shoulder, “I know Nighteye can be scary, but he’s a really good mentor. I promise, you’re gonna grow a lot here.” That…remains to be seen. 

Then Toogata leaves, heading towards the changing rooms. Izuku stays outside for a few moments longer before he bites the bullet and knocks. “Sir Nighteye? I finished the files.”

“Come in.” 

Notice me Not has never been more tempting, but using it will only make Nighteye mad. Izuku steps inside and shuts the door behind him, standing under the intense gaze of his internship mentor. 

“You finished all of the files on your desk?” Nighteye asks. 

 “Yes.”

“Did you take any breaks?”

Even if Izuku did lie, Nighteye would be able to see him on the security camera feed. “Well, I took one-”

“Laziness is not something to be tolerated.” Nighteye interrupts. The severity of his tone has Izuku falling into an old routine. He avoids eye contact, keeps his frame small, and stands in a spot close to an escape. Nighteye is an adult, Izuku reminds himself, but that’s both a comfort and the problem. Adults haven’t hit him, but they’re the ones with the most power, they don’t need to.

“I’ll do better.” Izuku murmurs. He’s familiar with this, the adult doesn’t want to hear any “excuses”, so it’s easier - and faster - to just agree and act appropriately cowed. 

Nighteye snaps, “see that you do.” and dismisses him for the day. Izuku’s sure that when he comes back Saturday Nighteye will have all of his mistakes annotated. As it is, he’s just glad he’s done for the day. 

Izuku waves goodbye to Bubble Girl, getting a cheerful farewell in turn. Stepping outside, he breathes deeply, feeling relief from the humid air. The late afternoon sunlight is heavenly compared to the darkness of the record room. He groans and stretches his legs out, beginning his walk home. 

Mirio said to get better at hand-to-hand, Izuku needs to keep at it. He’s sure All Might would be fine with him sparring after school. He’d probably be fine with anything as long as Izuku didn’t go out as Wallflower again. Really set the bar low for himself, didn’t he? 

Izuku takes his phone out and scrolls to the group chat. I have a question. He sends in. I kinda need to work on my close range fighting. Does anyone want to spar after school tomorrow? He pockets the phone and keeps walking, deciding to check for any replies when he gets home. He just spent hours staring at pages and crime scene photos, he needs something other than a screen right now. Twice’s apartment isn’t too far from here, but Izuku would feel like he was imposing on the man, showing up two days in a row. He’ll visit a little later in the week, he decides, and he’ll pack some of Han’s old toys. Mino’s a kitten, he’ll appreciate anything new and shiny or crinkly.

When Izuku does get home, he goes through his usual routine of petting Han for five minutes and then takes a shower. All the sweat from sparring against Mirio dried up while he was in the record room, leaving him with a general feeling of disgust. He checks his phone for replies as he finishes changing and toweling his hair. 

Iida: Sadly, I’m rather busy this week. Would next week work?

Uraraka: I should be. I could teach you some of the moves Gunhead showed me!

Todoroki: I’m free

Uraraka: ah shoot, I forgot I had something. Sorry midoriya :)

Izuku didn’t know a smiley emoticon could be so fake. Then, in a private chat, Uraraka sent him a separate message 

Uraraka: I’ll let you two have your alone time ;)

Izuku makes a sound in his throat that has Han coming in to check on him. 

Me: It’s not like that!

Uraraka: not yet it isnt

He groans and smacks his forehead on the screen. It really isn’t like that. Izuku just wants to work on his fighting. Now he’s going to be alone with Todoroki, up close, breathing the same air- 

Izuku buries his face in his pillow and ignores Uraraka’s text tone for a while. 

—---

Izuku can’t focus in class. Or more accurately: he does focus in class, but then he remembers he’s sparring with Todoroki later and gets derailed. He doesn’t have much luck trying to get back on topic, either. Uraraka is the exact opposite of helpful, shooting him knowing looks and wiggling her eyebrows every time Izuku and Todoroki are five feet from each other. This gets infinitely worse at lunchtime. Izuku can’t exactly change seats without raising suspicion. He keeps both hands above the table and tries not to look Todoroki’s way.

When the final bell rings, everyone starts to file out of the room. “Good luck~” Uraraka tells him, patting his shoulder and heading home for the day. 

Todoroki walks up behind him, “What did she say?” he asks. 

“Nothing important.” Izuku says, “come on, let’s head to the gym.” He’s hyper aware of how Todoroki stays walking side by side with him. He keeps his hands on his backpack straps, terrified of the sound he might make if they accidentally brushed hands. Izuku was able to hold Todoroki’s hand just fine before he talked to his dad, why is it different now? Probably because he has a name for all the fuzzy things in his chest, a name he really, really doesn’t want to admit to.

Izuku keeps his eyes firmly to himself as they get changed and only manages to make brief eye contact once they’re standing across from each other on the training mat. Todoroki’s face is unreadable, but Izuku can see tension in his shoulders. 

“This is close combat training, so we’re not going to use our Quirks.” Izuku says, “We, uh, I guess we just keep going until someone calls for a break?” 

Todoroki rolls a shoulder, the defined muscle rippling with every movement. “Sounds good to me.” 

“Okay, so on three? When do we want to start-?”

“Now is fine.” 

Izuku clicks his jaw shut and nods. “Right.” He falls into his focus, taking a fighting stance as he and Todoroki circle each other. Todoroki’s taller than Izuku, he has reach, Izuku doesn’t. Moreover, he doesn’t know Todoroki’s hand-to-hand style, their fight in the sports festival had been entirely Quirk based on his part. 

Todoroki makes the first move, interrupting Izuku’s whirring mind. He steps in and sends a quick jab at Izuku’s chest, which Izuku blocks with a yelp. Todoroki follows up with a combo, making Izuku take more and more steps back. “You can't let me gain ground.” Todoroki tells him, still composed as ever. “Get aggressive.”

Okay. Aggressive, aggressive. Izuku can be aggressive. He sends out a push-kick, making Todoroki take a step back. He lands and goes forward with a few jabs of his own. Todoroki only manages to block a few. With his success thrumming in his veins, Izuku locks eyes with Todoroki and grins. “Like that?”

Todoroki’s eyes are alight, a tiny uptick of his lips visible. He looks alive in a way Izuku’s never seen, vibrant, happy.  “Better.” He confirms. 

It’s a series of back and forth after that, with Izuku and Todoroki swapping out offensive and defensive roles. Todoroki puts power into his hits, Izuku notices, but his footwork is just a little bit out of sync. After training so long with Gran Torino, Izuku can spot a weak point. Right when Izuku goes on the offensive, there’s a small stutter in Todoroki’s steps as he retreats into a defensive stance. 

Izuku withstands Todoroki’s latest combination and executes his plan. Catching the last kick, Izuku lashes out with a kick of his own, turning the tides of their spar. When Todoroki gets his foot back on the ground, his foot stutters again. Izuku grabs Todoroki’s shoulders, bringing his leg up and slamming it down on the back of Todoroki’s knee. Todoroki grunts in surprise, his eyes widening right before he goes down. What Izuku doesn’t anticipate is Todoroki grabbing him on the way down and dragging him with.

The world blurs, and then Izuku is brushing nose-to-nose with Todoroki. Blue and gray eyes stare at him with open surprise, Izuku can see his equally shocked face reflected in them. Their legs got tangled somewhere during the fall, making a quick escape impossible. Izuku hasn’t even had escape occur yet, too wrapped up in how close Todoroki is. Izuku can feel heat radiating from Todoroki’s left side, with his right becoming alarmingly cold. Izuku’s forcefully snapped out of it when a quiet “Midoriya…” escapes Todoroki’s lips. 

He squeaks and tries his best to scramble away. “S-sorry!” He rushes to say, in the middle of trying to detangle their legs. His embarrassment grows every second with how he can feel Todoroki still looking at him. “I am so sorry, I thought that would go better in my head.” He manages to break free, scooching back to put a respectful distance between them. He’s probably imagining the disappointment that flashes across Todoroki’s face. 

“It’s okay.” Todoroki tells him, sitting up. The lighting makes his blue eye stand out even more, and Izuku can't tell if he’s blushing or just red-faced from the spar. The tiny part of him that Izuku tried to slam in a box and lock away today wishes it’s the former. “That was good. It caught me off guard.” 

Izuku coughs, looking away. “Y-yeah.”

“You’re not looking at me.” Todoroki says. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Izuku shakes his head violently. “No. You didn’t do anything.” The problem is with Izuku. What on earth is he thinking? Todoroki is his friend, one of the few he has. Is he really willing to risk everything over some dumb butterflies in his stomach? So what if holding Todoroki’s hand feels really nice? So what if Izuku felt like he was on top of the world when he made Todoroki laugh? So what if Izuku tripped Endeavor just to see him smile? Izuku is, at his core, cowardly. It took Izuku getting into highschool to even find people that liked him, how likely is it that Todoroki feels the same? Not likely enough. He’s content to smother these feelings if it means he can keep Todoroki as a friend. Trying to be something more is just too risky.

Todoroki’s mouth works into a frown. “You didn’t do anything wrong, either.” Because of course Todoroki would focus on comforting Izuku. That’s what friends do. “But I think we need to talk.” 

Izuku buries his face in his hands. “We really don’t have to.” he says through his fingers, “we can call it a day, forget all about this. Pretend it never happened-”

“I don’t want to do that, Midoriya.” He continues past the dying noise Izuku makes in his throat, repeating, “I think we need to talk. About this. Us.”

What’s to say? “I’m sorry, I really did start out being your friend, but it- it turned into something else when I wasn’t paying attention.” Kept unfurling in his chest until it became something more, a weed whose flower was too breathtaking to pluck. “I’m sorry. I made you uncomfortable. I can go, and these feelings will leave eventually-” He stiffens when he feels two hands gently peel his own away from his face. 

Izuku really wishes Todoroki was easier to read. His face is blank, but his hands keep Izuku from trying to hide. Oh, please, just let Izuku hide. “Did I ask you to leave?”

“No.” The word comes out tiny, cowed by the look Todoroki keeps giving him. 

“Are you going to use your Quirk if I let go of you?”

Izuku would be a liar if he said the idea never occurred to him. Yet the look in Todoroki’s eye has him saying “I won’t.” 

“Okay.” Todoroki takes him at his word and lets go. After the sports festival, Todoroki has always trusted his word. It’s baffling. He leans back and out of Izuku’s personal space, “I’ll go first.”

“What-?”

“I like your smile. You light up and it makes your face scrunch. I like your mumbling, you get so focused talking about Quirks and I can stare at you as long as I want.”

“Wait-”

“You’re nice to animals. You get this soft look in your eye. When I saw you with Han that day I thought I met an angel-”

Now it’s Izuku’s turn to put his hands on Todoroki. He covers Todoroki’s mouth, blushing furiously. “What,” His voice is high pitched and strained, “are you doing?”

Todoroki blinks at him, reaching up a hand to free his mouth. “I looked it up. Aren’t you supposed to tell someone you like what it is you like about them?”

“People who you…” Izuku falls back on his butt and stares. This…isn’t one sided. Izuku doesn’t know what to do with that. “I, uhm. Ah….” Come on, Izuku, any day now. Just rip the bandaid off. “I like you too.”

The blank expression on Todoroki’s face cracks. The smile that breaks through threatens to make Izuku turn Notice Me Not on anyways and hide for the next decade. He takes Izuku’s hand in his own, gently, his fingers loose enough that Izuku could take his hand back if he wanted. “I’m glad.”

“How are you so calm? ” Izuku demands. He’s trying his best not to combust over here, it’s not fair.

“I talked about it with my mom.”

“You told your mom?” 

Todoroki shrugs , “She likes hearing about you. I told her about the sports festival.” 

“About-?”

“Tripping Endeavor.” Todoroki confirms. 

Izuku is going to curl up and die. It’s the only option he has now. He hasn’t even met Mrs. Todoroki yet, and she knows he tripped her husband. He had it coming but it’s still not the best first impression. 

“It made her laugh.” Todoroki tells him, “I hadn’t heard her laugh like that. Ever.” 

“I didn’t like how he talked to you.” Izuku mutters, “You looked upset, and he was walking right by me. I didn’t know what I was doing until I did it.” He’s happy to hear Mrs. Todoroki enjoyed it, even if he is embarrassed. Izuku stares at his hand in Todoroki’s, “What happens now?” It’s been buzzing in the background of his head this entire conversation. He knows it’s hyperbole to say everything changes from this, but a decent portion of stuff is going to be affected by this.

“We probably start by calling each other our given names.” Todoroki - Shouto, now - begins, “Everything else can happen as it happens, I think.” 

Yeah, Izuku thinks he can manage that. He curls his hand a little tighter around Shouto’s, fitting them together more firmly. “Can we just stay here? For a little bit?” The leftover adrenaline has left his legs a little wobbly. Shouto squeezes his hand and they sit there for a while longer.

They don’t let go of each other’s hands until they stand at the school entrance. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Shouto tells him, slipping his hand away. Izuku misses the contact almost instantly, and then feels embarrassed just as fast. He walks home in a daze, trying to process everything that happened. It’s only when he;s about to fall asleep that he realizes it.

Uraraka is going to tease the life out of him. Why did she have to be right? 

Chapter Text

It’s strange how something so huge changes in Izuku’s life and yet nothing really adjusts to the fact. He still gets up early and brushes his teeth, Han twisting between his legs. He still eats breakfast with his mom. He still packs up his backpack and makes the usual commute to school. Everything’s the same but shifted to the left, because Izuku can call Todoroki by his given name now and they hold hands and- 

You get the idea. 

Gran Torino sent a text last night saying there’d be no practice this morning. He didn’t offer an explanation and Izuku didn’t press him for one because he respects Gran’s privacy, not because he would probably make Izuku run ten kilometers in twenty minutes. Without One for All. Scary old people aside, it’s nice to slow down on his morning commute and people watch. 

There’s a couple standing across from him on the bus, holding each other’s hands while also holding onto the handlebars overhead. Any other day Izuku wouldn’t think much of it, but now he sees them holding hands and keeps thinking back to the gym yesterday. He rapidly decides people watching isn’t worth it and instead scrolls through his phone, ignoring all the texts from Uraraka asking how he and Shouto’s “date” went.  

There’s a figure waiting for him at the school gate. The sunbeams make one half of Shouto’s hair snowy white and the other almost blood red. His eyes light up when he spots Izuku, making cool gray warm and bright blue soft. He raises a hand in greeting and Izuku returns the gesture nervously. 

Shouto says, “I wanted to walk to class with you.” He pauses, a flash of doubt crossing his face, “Is that okay?”

It's nice to see that even though he was so calm yesterday, Shouto's just as clueless about this  as Izuku. In a fit of boldness, he takes Shouto's hand as his answer. 

Shouto stiffens, his hand spasming in surprise, but loosens just as fast as a gentle smile finds its way to his face. He does that more often now – smiling. Izuku’s heart thrums with happiness at the idea it might be because of him.  

Students bustle around them, too busy going about their own lives to notice them. Izuku isn't ashamed to pull Notice Me Not around him and Shouto, anyways. He wants to keep this moment to themselves. Given how Shouto doesn't even blink as the buzz of Izuku's Quirk settles over them, he doesn't mind. 

They reach their classroom door when Izuku realizes the danger they're in. "Uraraka's going to tease us." He groans, covering his eyes with his free hand. She was bad enough before he and Shouto decided to be together. Now? Her being right will make her relentless.

“I don’t care.” Shouto says, opening the door and stepping inside. Izuku gets dragged along with him, and mercifully only Iida is there. 

He looks up from his desk, zeroing in on Izuku and Shouto’s intertwined hands. “Ah,” He says, “Uraraka was right.” 

“You too?” Izuku whines, fighting the urge to hide his face again. Being so close, only he can hear the cut-off huff in Shouto’s chest.

“That's all she would talk about.” There’s no judgement in Iida’s eyes, Izuku’s relieved to note. He’s not sure why he expected it.

They take their seats and get ready for class, waiting for the inevitable arrival of Uraraka. She doesn’t disappoint, opening the door and making a beeline for Izuku’s desk. 

“Soo,” she leans over the desk, invading his personal space with a teasing smile. Izuku could ignore her over the phone, ignoring her in person is much harder and she knows that. “How’d your date go?”

“It wasn’t a date.” Shouto interrupts. Izuku hides how that makes his heart drop. “We didn’t decide to be together until Izuku tripped me and we both fell down.”

Izuku’s almost too caught up in Shouto calling him “Izuku” for the first time to notice the unholy glee in Uraraka’s eyes. She abandons Izuku at his desk, zeroing in on Shouto like a shark that’s caught a whiff of blood. “You fell on top of each other? Would you say he swept you off your feet? ” 

“He used a leg sweep, he had to have.” Shouto says, oblivious to just what Uraraka’s asking. 

Izuku hides his head in his arms and groans. He feels Iida reach across and pat him on the back in consolation. 

Vindicated and gleeful, Uraraka teases him and Shouto all class period. It slows down by lunchtime, but only because Uraraka ran out of puns and names to call them. They all take their seats at the usual outside table and fall into easy conversation. Izuku’s happy to find this, at least, hasn't changed much.

The bell rings, sending everybody back to class. Izuku lingers behind with Shouto. “Uhm, Shouto? Do you maybe want to stay behind after school again? I have some ideas on my Quirk and I want to try them out.” 

Shouto grabs his lunchbag and stands. A breeze rustles his bangs, Izuku’s ashamed to admit how it distracts him. “Would this be our first date?” He asks.

“N-No!” Izuku stammers, “I mean, unless you want it to be?” He always imagined a first date to be somewhere more conventional, like an arcade or the movies. But it’s not like he asked Shouto what an ideal date was.

Shouto looks at him, “I was joking.”

“Oh.” Don’t mind him, he’s just going to fling himself off the nearest cliff. 

“But yes, I can help after school. Same gym?”

“Same gym.” Izuku confirms.

Their classmates notice the shift in their relationship. Some of the girls try to gossip with Uraraka, but evidently she wants exclusive teasing rights. Her lips are sealed. For now. If anyone even mentions it in Iida’s hearing range he goes off on a lecture about how they should respect the privacy of their fellow students. It only takes one or two rounds of that to stop the questions outright. Izuku appreciates both of them more than words can describe. Their eyes prickle Izuku’s skin like bug legs, but it’s manageable. Especially when he feels Shouto poke his back with a folded up note. 

They like to stare, don’t they?

 Yeah. I guess we’re more interesting than than math

I don’t think that’s very hard

Izuku looks at the blackboard and has to agree. 

When school ends he and Shouto repeat the routine from yesterday. They go to the empty gym, get changed, and stand across from each other. 

“So what’s the theory you wanted to test?” Shouto asks. He sounds so genuinely interested, Izuku’s never had someone be interested in his ideas before. 

Okay, let's get started. “You know how blind people develop a better sense of hearing?” Shouto nods, “Well, I was thinking if that might be able to apply to Notice Me Not. If I only try to hide from one sense, the threshold to be noticed would be higher? Maybe?”

“I get what you’re saying. If you hide from one sense and not all of them, you think it’d make it harder to notice you with that one sense. Am I right?” Izuku nods, grateful that he was understood. Shouto asks, “Do you know how to do that?”

Reality smacks Izuku in the face. “No.” He suddenly feels embarrassed, looking off to the side so he doesn’t have to see the expression on Shouto’s face. “I’m sorry, this might end up being a waste of time-”

“It’s not.” Shouto interrupts him, “I get to spend time with you.”

Aaand there goes Izuku’s capability of speech. His mouth opens and closes, trying to find words but instead imitating a fish. “I- you-” He stammers then gathers himself with a deep breath, “Please close your eyes. You can open them after ten seconds.” He shouldn’t need ten, but he’s trying something new with his Quirk and could use the wiggle room.

Shouto has no right to look so smug as he follows Izuku’s request. He stands at ease in the gym, even when he can’t see. He trusts Izuku not to hurt him, and that makes Izuku’s heart squeeze just a little more. Then he remembers what they’re doing here and focuses. 

Time to do this…How is he supposed to do this? There’s not exactly a manual. Doubt bleeds into his mind, clouding his thoughts. Is he really onto something, or is he just wasting their time like he said before? Shouto told him it wasn’t a waste of time, and Izuku really shouldn’t doubt his sincerity because it’s Shouto , but the thoughts creep in anyways. 

His quirk isn’t like Mirio’s. It’s not cut-and-dry like Permeation. It’s nuanced, with a lot of moving parts and factors that took Izuku years to figure out. What if this takes years as well? He doesn’t have that kind of time. Shigaraki and the League are still out there. The man behind the screen is still out there. The world doesn’t slow down for anybody, and if Izuku isn’t careful he’ll get outpaced. Maybe Nighteye was right. Notice Me Not really isn’t suited for One for All. Izuku isn’t suited for One for All. How can he be if he can’t figure this out?

“Izuku.”

Shouto snaps him back to the present. He’s opened his eyes and is staring at Izuku, his brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

A simple question with a complicated answer. Izuku coughs and says, “Y-yeah. I just, I don’t really know what I’m doing?” He’s allowed to admit that, right? This is Shouto, his…they haven’t put a name to it yet, have they? Either way, Shouto’s someone close to him, he can be open about this sort of stuff. It feels nice to say it out loud either way, to have someone listen to him. 

Shouto hums, “Well, if you did know what you were doing, we wouldn’t be here.” He doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing, just a statement of fact. Shouto’s blunt way of approaching things is truly a godsend for Izuku’s anxiety. “It’s your Quirk, you already understand it to some degree. What do you do to activate it?”

Izuku thinks about it. He likens Notice Me Not to turning on a lightswitch most of the time, which implies there’s some kind of current. The current is flowing through just one “lightbulb” right now, making it a series circuit. What if there’s more than one lightswitch? What if he makes that series circuit parallel? So he can pick and choose which lightbulb the current goes through? 

Notice Me Not right now is just the current running through all the lightbulbs at once, splitting the charge amongst themselves. If he cuts the charge off from some light bulbs, it’ll go to the others, making their light shine brighter. And if he cuts the charge to all but one, that single lightbulb will shine the brightest. The image forms in his mind: a mess of wires, light bulbs and control devices that clicks into place in his head like a missing puzzle piece. 

“You’ve figured it out.” Shouto says. He doesn’t sound impressed, he sounds like he expected it.

“How’d you know?”

“You get this specific expression. I can’t really explain it.” He shifts from one leg to the other, “Do you want me to close my eyes again?”

Izuku nods, feeling a trickle of his confidence come back to him. “Yeah.” He takes a deep breath when Shouto closes his eyes and prays that this will work. Just picture the circuit, switch some current controls, and switch Notice Me Not on. 

His ears begin to tingle, a numbing buzz that makes the inside of his skull itch. It’s unpleasant, but not intolerable. Izuku steps to the side on instinct to get out of Shouto’s eyesight right as ten seconds pass. Shouto opens his eyes but doesn’t look around. Breathing deeply, Izuku takes a step and makes it louder than what he knows the normal threshold for Notice Me Not is. 

Shouto doesn’t move. 

Izuku takes another step, louder than the last. Again, Shouto doesn’t move. This turns into Izuku walking like normal, not even trying to hide, and still Shouto doesn’t move. 

Izuku can’t bear it anymore, he leaps into the air with a cry of “It works!” and runs to Shouto. He gets there right as Shouto finishes turning around, giving him barely any time to react before Izuku throws himself into a hug. His momentum makes them spin, but Shouto steadies them both with his hands on Izuku’s waist. 

“I did it! I thought of lightbulbs and cutting off the current and- electric circuits are so easy, why didn’t I think of that before?” Izuku’s too hopped up on his own success to really notice or process how close he and Todoroki are. Then it does catch up to him, and he feels his cheeks light on fire. “I- ah. S-sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“Don’t apologize.” Shouto tells him. Izuku’s own excitement must be infectious, he can see some of it reflected back at him in Shouto’s eyes. “I knew you’d figure it out.” That unshakeable confidence in him is somehow more embarrassing than the fact that Shouto’s still holding him by the waist. 

Izuku breaks away with an awkward cough, letting Shouto’s hands fall back to his sides. “Okay, so we know hearing works. I want to see what the threshold for it is and then try sight next.” Shouto’s already closing his eyes before Izuku can ask him to. 

They keep going. The buzz in his ears transfers to his eyes when he’s hiding from sight - not the best sensation in the world but again, tolerable in short doses. They learn that while only hiding one sense, the others are more likely to give him away: if he’s hiding from sight, even a loud breath makes Notice Me Not drop. For hearing, all Shouto needs to spot him is movement in his periphery and for sight, Izuku exhaling just a tad too loudly. 

Touch is the most finicky by far. The threshold for Notice Me Not changes depending on if Shouto’s paying attention to that area when Izuku touches him. Their progress keeps getting delayed, and it’s all Shouto’s fault. Every time he reaches the threshold and Notice Me Not drops, Shouto grabs Izuku by the wrist with a smirk and says “found you.” 

Izuku has to take a five minute break after that, and he continues having to take those breaks every time Shouto finds him this way. Shouto is in no way sorry and Izuku’s starting to think he likes flustering him. This is in fact a threat because it’s becoming readily apparent that Izuku is easy to fluster when Shouto’s involved. 

They eventually have to stop, because isolated use of Notice Me Not has the unforeseen consequence of headaches. Really bad headaches. Izuku winces when they step outside, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the evening rays. Shouto gives him a questioning look but Izuku smiles in a way he hopes is convincing. 

“Do you want to work more on this tomorrow?” Shouto asks once they reach the gate. Then, before Izuku can even voice his concerns he adds, “It wouldn’t be a waste of time for me. I told you I like spending time with you.” 

Izuku’s face lights up, but then he schools his expression in an attempt to play it off. “Y-yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay then.” Shouto walks three steps before he turns around. The smile on his face is sly and scrunches his face. It makes him look younger, more childish. “We should probably plan our first date, too.” And he walks off before Izuku can find his words again. Shouto, he’s starting to learn, doesn’t play fair. 

—

They fall into a routine. Izuku shows up early to train with Gran and All Might. Gran doesn’t say what he was held up with on Monday and again Izuku doesn’t ask. By the time they finish, Shouto is already in class, ready to greet Izuku with a subtle smile. Izuku will drop his backpack off at his desk and then they’ll talk about all sorts of things. Izuku learns that Shouto’s favorite food is cold soba, he doesn’t have a favorite book, and he doesn’t really watch TV aside from the news.

He asks if Shouto has a favorite snack one day before class and learns just how limited Shouto’s diet really is. If Izuku gave him a warhead candy he’d probably implode. So on Thursday he brings in a bag of chips to share at lunch. 

“All Might has me on a diet, too.” Izuku says as he pops the bag open, taking a chip out and offering it to Shouto. He went for the sour cream and onion flavor, because it’s good but it’s also much tamer than sea salt and vinegar. “He lets me have cheat snacks from time to time. I think it’s so I don’t cave and binge on junk food.” Not to say that it stopped him those first few weeks. 

Shouto doesn’t look fully convinced, but he takes the offered chip anyway. His eyes light up once he takes a bite and Izuku silently celebrates it as the victory it is. 

Then after classes they go down to the gym together and work on Izuku's Quirk. He still gets headaches if he uses one aspect of Notice Me Not too long or too often, but he can feel his tolerance increasing the more he uses it. Izuku theorizes the buzzing in his ears, eyes or hands depending on which sense he’s focusing on is the energy of Notice Me Not being condensed instead of hiding him from all senses.

Once he gets the hang of this, Izuku might start trying to use two senses at a time. 

 —-

“Excuse me, students! But may I borrow Young Midoriya?”

Everyone at the lunch table goes quiet, looking up and up and up at All Might’s smiling face. He’s pretty stealthy for a 7 foot tall symbol of peace. Izuku catches Shouto flinch out of the corner of his eye. 

Izuku clears his throat and stands up, “I’ll be right back, guys.” He hands off his cheat snack of the day – an overly sweet brand of fruit gummies – to Shouto and tells him, “You can finish these. I’ll see you in class?”

Shouto takes the gummies and nods. He hides it well, but Izuku can see how rattled he is from being snuck up on by All Might. Or rather, someone with All Might’s build. Yet another thing Izuku files away in the box he doesn’t think about for is own peace of mind. 

Izuku tries to guess what this is about as he follows behind All Might. Did the Hero Commission reach out again, did Detective Tsukauchi find something?

Did Nighteye submit a complaint?

None of those three possibilities make him think of anything good. Izuku shakes his head and tries not to think about it. Tries being the operative word there. 

The teacher’s lounge is empty. All Might poofs back into his true form, coughing into a handkerchief and pocketing the bloody fabric as he sits down on one of the couches and motions for Izuku to do the same. 

“I see you’ve made good friends,” All Might comments, “That’s good. I told you you just needed some time.”

Well, Shouto’s probably more than a friend at this point, but Izuku doesn’t argue the point. “I’m lucky to have them.” He answers with complete honesty. 

“I’m sure they feel the same.” He shuffles his feet, coughing awkwardly. “How about your internship with Sir Nighteye? Is he treating you well?”

Well, no, but All Might recommended him to Nighteye, saying that up front feels like he’d be spitting on his mentor’s efforts to help.  “...Yes.” Izuku picks at his nails, “I’m learning a lot about detective work. And Mirio’s helping me with my martial arts.” 

All Might perks up. “Ah yes, Young Toogata.” Is it wrong for Izuku to feel jealous about how All Might attaches “young” before Mirio’s name just as easily as he does Izuku’s? “He’s come a long way from when Sir Nighteye first took him in. I’m glad they found each other. To tell the truth, I feared that Sir Nighteye would begin to spiral after our, erm, disagreement.”

Izuku wants to ask, but he feels like that’s a topic veering into the “deeply personal” area. He just keeps his mouth shut and nods. 

“It’s good to hear you’re doing well, but I’m afraid there’s more to me pulling you aside today.” He pulls a file from the inside of his suit – where was he hiding that when he was in his Hero-form? – and places it on the coffee table between them. “Naomasa – you know him as Detective Tsukauchi – had a development in a few of the cases he was investigating.” He looks Izuku in the eye, and his expression is so grave Izuku forces himself to hold his gaze. “Were it any other situation, I would never think to tell you this. But my mistake has become your burden, and you need to know.”

Izuku fights the urge to gulp when All Might opens the folder, showing the picture of what he recognizes to be the Noumu from the USJ. To the side of it is another photo – a mugshot of a man he’s never seen before. 

“You remember the Noumu from the USJ.” All Might states, “Their leader, Shigaraki Tomura, said it was engineered to be able to kill me.” 

Not exactly good memories, those. Izuku doesn’t recall much other than an overwhelming dose of fear and his habit of breaking bones rearing up again. 

“Well, they took DNA samples from that Noumu and the ones in Hosu. All Might reaches out and taps a spindly finger on the mugshot. “This man was a small-time thug, but his DNA held a 95% match to the Noumu I defeated. Upon further investigation, we found out it was him, with multiple Quirks added.”

“He– he had multiple Quirks?” Then, much more panicked, “Will that happen to me ?” 

“ No .” All Might emphasizes, “No, that will not happen to you. One for All is a Quirk that’s meant to be passed on. It’s meant to coexist with other Quirks, should the user already have one. The Quirks in this Noumu were forcibly grafted on. From what we could tell, his mind couldn’t handle it and he became the thing you and I faced.”

Izuku settles back into his seat, relieved for the second it takes for him to fill in the blanks. There were Noumu in Hosu, too. He killed a Noumu in Hosu. His body goes cold – starting from his heart and branching out as poison. His stomach roils.

He shoots out of his seat, covering his mouth with a hand as he scrambles for the nearest trash can. Whatever he’d eaten at lunch comes bubbling back up as he vomits, full body heaves making him empty his stomach. 

All Might is there, rubbing his back with a hand as he tries to ask what’s wrong. It doesn’t help. 

“I killed someone.” Izuku whispers in horror. Then he ducks his head and retches again. 

Tears spring to his eyes, and from there it’s hard to stop them. He kneels down on the floor, gasping out quiet sobs between dry heaves. Where the USJ had been blurry, a mess of adrenaline and fear, he can remember Hosu in perfect clarity. His fingers tingle with the phantom weight of the taser trigger. “All Might , I killed someone.” 

The symbol of peace says nothing. What can he say? He picked a– a murderer for his successor. Izuku whines and curls tighter around the trash can, trembling. 

All Might doesn’t stop rubbing his back. The pressure is grounding, but the guilt of not even deserving such comfort outweighs it. “Young Midoriya, you were put in a difficult position. A position no young man should have been in. If I had it my way, you would have never had to make a decision like that. But in the heat of the moment you didn’t hesitate to save an innocent life. And Midoriya, for that I am so proud of you.” 

That makes it worse, somehow. There were so many ways he could have done it differently. If he was better at using One for All, could access more of its power, he could have picked up the civilian and ran. He could have apprehended the Noumu without tasing it in the brain .

There’s a voice in his head, it sounds like Sir Nighteye. If Mirio were there, he could’ve done it better.

He doesn’t disagree with it. 

He throws up again. 

“Here, I’ll get you some water.” All Might stands and Izuku hears him walk to the kitchen in the back of the lounge. “In my experience, it’s better to throw up something than throw up nothing.” He guides Izuku back onto the couch, bringing the trash can with them. He puts a lukewarm cup of water in Izuku’s hands, “Don’t drink too fast,” All Might tells him, “you’ll make yourself sick.” 

Izuku nods and takes a tiny mouthful of water. It helps wash out the taste of bile on his tongue. “There’s more, isn’t there? That you have to tell me.”

All Might hesitates, “My boy, seeing your reaction to this, I’m not sure if I should–”

No. It has to be now, before his courage can abandon him. “Tell me,” Izuku's voice gets smaller, “please.”  

All Might considers it for a few moments then sighs. “Alright, Young Midoriya. I’ll tell you. But only if you let me take you to Recovery Girl after – I'm sure she has something to eat that’s light on the stomach.” 

“Okay.”

“Alright then. I suppose I should start with the beginning. It started with a man…”

—--

Izuku has to go home early. The on-paper reason is a stomach bug, but the real reason is closer to him having a stress-induced panic attack. 

There’s a lot more to One for All than he thought. A lot more. Izuku probably knew that on some subconscious level, he’s the ninth user after all. But he never considered something like a Quirk that could give and take other Quirks. It’s one of those powers you’d only expect to see in a TV drama or graphic novel, something so game-breakingly powerful you can’t even understand how broken it is. 

And All Might fought this man – this All for One. He fought and got hurt and he thought he killed him but the Noumus are people who were given more than one Quirk, The Noumus are people and Izuku killed one and All Might told him he was proud but what if he’s not –

Izuku’s stomach rumbles, but he’s not up to eating. He gets home and curls up on the couch, pulling the throw blanket over him to shield him from the world. 

All Might fought All for One, All Might almost died fighting All for One, and it’s more than likely that Izuku’s going to have to fight him: a villain not even All Might could defeat – and he was fighting to kill . 

It’s a lot easier to kill than incapacitate. 

He feels Han bat at his little blanket-cocoon, eventually hopping on top of it to curl up between Izuku’s side and the back of the couch. The pressure is grounding, and Han’s rumbling purr reminds Izuku to breathe. 

His phone buzzes, it’s from Shouto. 

[1:20]

Where did you go after you talked with All Might?

Izuku sighs through his nose. Still under the blanket, he thinks about how he’ll reply. 

[1:22]

I went home. Guess I ate something that didn’t agree with me.

He feels awful lying like this, and he feels even worse when Shouto calls him out on it. 

[1:23]

You don’t need to lie to me, Izuku. Did All Might say something?

How is he supposed to explain everything? Izuku’s still trying to process it, himself. 

[1:25]

I’m sorry. He did tell me some things, but it’s not my place to say. 

He didn’t say anything bad to me, I promise. 

It was just a lot to take in

[1:27]

Okay.

How can Shouto manage to make one word convey so much disappointment? Izuku turns off his phone with a sigh, letting it rest on the couch cushion near his cheek. His stomach rumbles again, he doesn’t get up.

All for One took on All Might. All for One created the Noumu, or at least had a hand in it. All for One has ties to the League of Villains. 

All for One might be the man behind the screen. 

Izuku shuts his eyes, trying his best to clear his thoughts. He hides under the blanket and feels like what he really is. A kid. A weak, scared kid. He thought after getting One for All that feeling would go away, but the world only got scarier. 

He dozes at some point, the exhaustion of today creeping up on him. When he comes back to the land of the living it’s to a text. From his dad. 

[5:48]

How was your day?

The words on the screen glare up at him accusingly. Izuku can’t hide his relationship with his mom or his classmates or All Might, they’re all constant presences in his life. The man behind the screen knows who he is – All for One knows who Izuku is. He can’t hide his connection to his mom, but talking to dad might just be painting a target on him.

Izuku powers off his phone and closes his eyes again, hoping sleep might take his mind off his heavy heart. 

—-

Izuku’s long used to the feeling of getting flung around. It doesn’t make the landing any less pleasant. He hits the mat and wheezes, covering his abdomen with both arms. 

Mirio offers him a hand. “It was a good try,” he tells Izuku, “but you’re reading too far ahead. Your opponent can change his moves at any time. But don’t feel bad! It took me a year to get it down right.” 

“Got it.” Izuku takes his hand and hops back up, ignoring how the world spins for a second. “One more go?”

These last few weeks have been nice – maybe even relaxing – but now he knows there’s something looming in the distance. A threat that’ll overwhelm and drown him if he’s not ready. Maybe not the best wake up call, but a wake up call all the same. He’s been working on his own style, but he’s also been cataloging how Mirio moves, where he’s looking, the placement of his feet, counters. Everything. Not everything he learns is applicable to himself – some things are just easier when you’re as big as Mirio – but Izuku’s certain he can work something out. 

Mirio walks up to him during one of their breaks carrying two electrolyte drinks. He sits down and offers one to izuku. “Are you okay? You’re way more intense than usual.”

Izuku takes the offered drink and cracks it open, taking a swig. “I’m fine.” He should be concerned with how easy it’s getting to lie, “I kinda…realized some things, you know? The USJ, the Hero Killer, H-Hosu.” Don’t think about it. Don’t think about how easy it was to pull the trigger, how the Noumu sized and screeched and died– 

Mirio’s voice cuts through his spiral. “Izuku? Are you sure you’re okay? Your face,” he waves an open hand over his own, “it’s looking kinda green.” 

Izuku shakes his head like a dog. Now’s not the time to get lost in those kinds of thoughts. “I’m getting stronger, but it's just– I don’t feel like I’m doing it fast enough.” He bites the inside of his cheek, looking down at the raised scar tissue on his hands. ”Things just keep getting more dangerous and I’m– I always get out alive , but I want to get out of it okay . You know? I can’t even use One for All without breaking something half the time. How do I know I can handle what’s next?” 

Because there will always be something next. The League, the All for One, whoever else is hiding in the shadows. He walked in that dark for a little bit, observing, watching, writing down what he could so he could give it to detective Tsukauchi. There’s always something else. 

“Well, if it helps, you won’t be alone.” Mirio offers, “Your teachers are there to help, and besides, you got your classmates, don’t you?” He smiles sheepishly, “And for what it’s worth, if there’s anything I can do, all you have to do is ask.”

Can you ask Nighteye to stop giving me the death-stare? Izuku thinks. But that’s not fair to Mirio. It’s not his fault Nighteye’s like that. Izuku would just cause unnecessary drama between mentor and student by asking. And frankly, his history with asking for help has always emphasized why he shouldn’t. 

“Thanks.” Izuku says. “Can you show me that grapple again?”

Mirio perks up, “Yeah!” He gets up, offering a hand. “It’s actually pretty simple, once you get the footwork down. I’ll show you.” 

Izuku pays close attention to his explanation. Asking questions where he can until he has a decent grasp of the mechanics. 

“Here,” Mirio gets into a fighting stance, “try it on me, okay?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! You gotta get the muscle memory down before you can even think about using it in a fight.” 

Izuku blinks. “Okay.” 

So they do practice drills for the next thirty minutes, with Mirio offering commentary when he spots something Izuku can improve. He never makes Izuku feel stupid for asking a question, and he celebrates every time Izuku gets it right like they won the lottery. Being picked up and spun is new, but not wholly bad. 

He can’t smother that small ember of envy, however, and it makes the insecurity in his chest burn. Mirio says it took a lot of practice for him to get where he is, but what are the odds he’s just saying that to make Izuku feel better?”

It also doesn’t help that Izuku’s using him as a meat shield. For once, Mirio doesn’t have patrol, and Izuku sticks to him like glue. Nighteye isn’t half as harsh whenever Mirio’s within hearing range. Maybe it’s cowardly for Izuku to hide behind Mirio like this, but he’s raw after learning about All for One, he really doesn’t think he could handle the vitriol. 

Still, he wanders over to Nighteye during one of the breaks because something’s bothering him. “Um, Sir?” He startles when Nighteye’s gaze snaps to him. “I, uh. I just wanted to know when I’m going to the records room?” It’s ten past two, Nighteye always makes sure Izuku’s in the records room by one forty-five. 

There’s a strange set to Nighteye’s mouth. “You won’t be going at all. I’ve decided that sparring with Mirio is a better use of your time.”

“O-oh.” Izuku says, “did I do something wrong?” Nighteye doesn’t look at him again. He doesn’t answer Izuku’s question, either. “If I did, I’m sorry. I can try to fix it? Maybe?”

“Go back to sparring, Midoriya.” 

Izuku knows a dismissal when he hears one. Nighteye’s hiding something, but Izuku would rather fight a bear with both hands behind his back before he poked the sleeping one that was Nighteye’s patience. 

Nighteye calls it early and sends Izuku home two hours before he’s supposed to. Izuku bids goodbye to Bubblegirl with what he wants to be a cheerful smile, but the sad one he gets in return lets him know it was a lot more pathetic than believable.

He sits at the metro for five minutes before he can admit to himself that he doesn’t want to go home just yet. Mom knows when his internship usually ends, she’d ask questions, or worse, she’d dance around the topic like Izuku might cry if she brings it up. 

He just…wants to spend some time out of the house. With someone he likes spending time with. Someone he knows won’t pry unless Izuku brings it up first.

He sends a text to Shouto before he can second guess it. 

[2:56]

Hey! I got out of my internship early. Are you free?

[2:58]

Yeah. What do you want to do?

[2:58]

I haven’t thought that far

I’m already at the metro station though, we can meet up somewhere?

If that’s okay? 

Totally fine if not

Izuku closes the messages before he can embarrass himself any further. He opens it up just as fast when Todoroki replies. 

[2:59]

If location doesn’t matter. How about my house? 

He sends an address, Izuku looks up at the train routes and sees that it’s only three stops away. 

[3:00]

I’ll head over now! 

The train ride doesn’t take long, it just feels like it does. Izuku’s mind is a whirlwind, feeling like he’s reading too far into things and at the same time not reading into it enough. People go to each other’s houses all the time, Shouto came to Izuku’s apartment to work on homework just a few days ago, but being the host and being the guest are two different things entirely.  

He reads the address Shouto sends no less than four times, walking down the street and trying to find the right house number. He and his mother aren’t exactly tight on cash – dad sends a portion of his checks back every month – but Izuku has to be honest, he has never seen so many fancy houses in one area. 

Shouto’s house isn’t the fanciest one on the block, but it's up there. The traditional Japanese architecture isn’t unique to the neighborhood, but it looms over Izuku and he has to swallow his nerves. 

It isn’t Shouto who opens the door when he knocks, but they're definitely a relative, the white hair with red highlights gives it away. Curious gray eyes blink at him behind a pair of glasses. 

“Um,” Izuku kicks himself at the fumble, “I– Shouto? Invited me? I’m Midoriya Izuku?”

She brightens up, “Ah! Come right in.” She steps aside for him. While Izuku’s taking off his shoes she calls out, “Shouto! Your friend is here!” 

Izuku hears socks on the hardwood. “Thanks, Fuyumi.” He stands up and sees Shouto in the hall wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Izuku doesn’t know why he stares, it’s just…odd, to see Shouto in something that isn’t workout clothes, his hero costume, or the school uniform. 

Izuku raises his hand lamely. “H-hey, Shouto.” He catches Fuyumi mouth the name in surprise beside him. 

Shouto ignores whatever question is on his sister’s face and turns back around, walking to what Izuku assumes is his room. “Follow me.” 

Fuyumi smiles after him fondly, then turns to Izuku. “It’s a bit early, but I’ll start making dinner in half an hour. Would you like to stay?”

“Would that be okay?”

“It’s more than okay. Shouto doesn’t bring home many friends– any friends if I’m being honest.”

“Okay, then.” He stands there, flexing his hands, “I– ah– I’m gonna go follow Shouto.” He power-walks away before he can see what Fuyumi thinks of that. 

Something catches Izuku’s eye as he heads down the hall. A shrine with a picture of a boy younger than Izuku, with pure white hair and bright blue eyes. The edges of it have turned yellow with age, but everything else about the shrine – the wood, the offerings – look well-kept and maintained. Izuku looks away and keeps walking, feeling like he’s seen something he had no right to see. 

Shouto’s bedroom is as spartan as things get. Tatami floorings and a dresser off to the side, there isn’t even a desk. Izuku wouldn’t even know it was Shouto’s room if Shouto himself weren’t standing in the middle of it, and that upsets him. 

Shouto isn’t some blank slate, he’s– he’s Shouto. He smiles when Han curls up in his lap, he lights up when people laugh at something he said, even when he doesn’t understand what’s funny, he gets this mischievous spark in his eye whenever he thinks of some petty way to get back at Endeavor. 

“Close the door behind you.” Shouto says.

Izuku does so, noting the lack of a lock. It wouldn’t even be worth mentioning if he didn’t have the memories of bruises flashing in the back of his head. How many of those were actually from training? 

Izuku shifts from one foot to the other. “So, what now?” 

Shouto blinks. “I don’t know. Do you want something to sit on? I have some pillows in the closet.” 

“Sure.” 

Shouto swings open one of the doors and gets on his tiptoes, tugging down two comfy-looking floor pillows. He sets them down next to the wall and sits, Izuku follows suit. They sit there, quiet as two socially-awkward mice. 

“So,” Izuku starts, “That’s your sister? The one who makes you bentos?”

Shouto nods. “Yeah. She got really excited when I said you were coming over.” 

Izuku got that impression. “She seems really nice. I wish I had a sibling like that.” Things wouldn’t have been so lonely growing up, that’s for sure. 

“It’s not as great as you think,” Shouto admits, looking off to the side. “Or maybe it is. I wouldn’t know. Endeavor kept me separated from them.”

Izuku feels a rock settle in his stomach. “Oh.” 

“He let up on it eventually.” Shouto continues. “But Natsuo had left by then, and Touya…” 

“Is that who the shrine is for?” Izuku asks it without thinking. He sees Shouto’s face darken and backtracks, “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to see it, but the shrine was on the way and–”

“He died. When I was eight.” Shouto sounds distant from it, but Izuku can hear the faintest twinges of an old hurt. “Quirk accident.” Shouto looks at his left hand, scrutinizing it. “Natsuo and Fuyumi – they got mom’s Quirk, or some version of it. Touya…had a mix. Just a bad combination.” 

Izuku’s read research articles like that – where two quirks combine into something worse. Bakugou was lucky, he turned out with a combination that made something new, something powerful but controllable. Other people were lucky if their Quirk didn’t outright kill them when it manifested.  

There are dozens of ways mixing an ice and fire Quirk could go wrong. And Endeavor did it intentionally. Did he even care? Did he even stop to think about what could happen to his kids, or did he just keep going until he had the “ideal” Quirk outcome? He thought of them as things , and what came of it? One of them is dead while another sits next to Izuku, curling into himself with self hatred burning in his eyes. Izuku knows the look, he’s seen it enough in the mirror. 

“I’m sorry.” There’s not much else he can say. Leaving it at that platitude makes something in Izuku twist, so he continues. “Have you– have you tried reaching out to your brother?”

“Why?” Shouto scoffs and lets his hand fall to the side. “He probably hates me for being Endeavor’s ‘favorite’. Touya did.” 

Izuku’s going to ignore those last two words because he has no idea where to even start with that. “But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s like Fuyumi?”

Shouto’s jaw flexes, he curls his fist a bit tighter. “Then why did he leave?”

“I….I don’t know,” Izuku admits, because he can’t understand someone he’s never met, “but wouldn’t it be better to ask him yourself? You won’t know until you try.” He runs a hand through his bangs with a tiny laugh, “I mean, I could go months without talking to my dad, but he started reaching out recently.” He looks down at his knees, curling and uncurling his toes. “Sometimes people don’t realize they miss you until you start talking to them again.”

“What’s he like? Your dad.” 

Izuku wracks his brain for an answer. It’s hard, trying to put everything he feels about the man into words, but he tries anyway. “He went to work overseas when I was little. Right before my Quirk came in.” He didn’t even tell Izuku himself, it was mom who had to explain it to him. “Um, he used to read me stories. He did the voices.” His regular voice was a deep rumble, Izuku liked to rest his head on dad’s chest and listen to it change with every new character. “Mom says I got my messy hair from him.” There aren’t pictures of him at home, Izuku just takes her word for it. 

His dad left so he could give Izuku and his mom a better life, Izuku gets that, he respects it, understands it. It still would have been nice to sit together at a table and eat a meal. To have maybe a few more storytimes, a few more days in the park where Izuku runs around being chased by the biggest “dragon” in the land. To get snagged around the waist and tossed into the air, never scared for a moment because he knew his dad would catch him.

“Must have been nice.” 

Then Izuku remembers just who he’s talking to and feels like the world's biggest jerk. He could’ve had it much worse, he’s lucky he even has those memories. “It, uh, it was. Nice, I mean.” Izuku takes a deep breath and switches topics. Things have gotten a touch too sad, the whole reason he came over was so he could avoid being sad. “Do you wanna watch some funny videos?”

Shouto notices the segue – he’d have to be blind not to – but he just blinks and says “sure.” 

Izuku clicks the first video that pops up and they settle down to watch. Izuku keeps an eye on Shouto, gauging his reactions. He finds the cat videos the funniest, so when the video they’re watching ends Izuku ques up a cat compilation

Izuku leans his head on Shouto’s shoulder and gets comfortable, Shouto himself learns his head against Izuku’s. They don’t say anything, they don’t have to. They just…exist in each other’s space. And that’s okay. 

Fuyumi calls them in for dinner, and Izuku sits down next to Shouto at the table. Everything looks great, but Izuku waits until Shouto picks out what he wants before going for anything himself. He is a guest after all. 

Shouto eats a few bites before putting down his utensils. “This is good.” He tells Fuyumi, in that deadpan tone Izuku’s still trying to decode. 

Fuyumi startles like Shouto talking at meals is some rare event. Then the surprise bleeds into warmth, and Izuku has trouble understanding how Shouto could ever think she resented him. “Thank you, Shouto. I worked hard.” 

“Could you…teach me? How to cook?” He takes the silence for something else and barrels on, “It would be easier if you had someone to help, wouldn’t it?”

Fuyumi puts her hand up and Shouto goes silent. “How about you help me with lunch tomorrow, and if you still want to learn after that you can help with dinner, too?” Not breakfast, Izuku notes. Not the meal where Endeavor might come in and see what they’re doing. “and…I’m grateful – I am – but where is this coming from?”

Shuoto’s eyes flicker to Izuku. “Someone told me I should start trying new things.” 

Well, not verbatim, but Izuku still finds himself smiling into his food. 

Chapter Text

There's been a noticeable lack of All Might at the early-morning training sessions – ever since Gran told Izuku about the Hero Commission. Izuku tries not to think too much of it. He's the number one hero, he has more important things to do than sit here and watch Izuku get kicked around.

Gran calls for a break earlier than usual, Izuku doesn’t question his mercy, choosing to take a few sips of water and work on his stretching – he feels like he might have pulled something trying to dodge Gran. 

He can feel Gran Torino staring into his back. “Your final exams are coming up.” There’s no inflection to the words, just a statement of fact. 

Izuku looks up from his stretching, “Yeah, in two weeks. I already started reviewing some of the material.” He already knows math and English will be a problem no matter how hard he studies. Those simple mistakes keep sneaking up on him, and he keeps tripping over grammar rules. 

Izuku continues, “so– I mean. You were a teacher here. I was wondering if you knew what the practical was like?” Surely it’s not cheating if Izuku’s just using his contacts?  “There’s a lot of rumors going around right now and–”

Gran snorts. It’s one of the rare days where he’s not wearing his mask, letting Izuku see how his brows pinch. Izuku wonders if he does theater in his spare time, that old man act of his is scarily convincing. “Don’t bother. I haven't taught here in years, why the hell would they tell a coot like me?”

Well, it didn’t hurt to try. Izuku deflates anyway.

“Stop looking like I kicked your cat.” Gran says. “You got more important things to worry about – like your Quirk. What the hell was that, earlier?”

Izuku's chest flares with pride at the memory. Gran was doing the usual jumping around and Izuku decided to try out what he’s been practicing with Shouto. He only hid from Gran’s sight, and Gran’s so used to the usual parameters of Notice Me Not that Izuku landed his first ever clean hit. “Something I’ve been working on with a friend. I can choose what sense I hide from, now.”

“And given how fast you came at me, it increases the threshold.” Gran deduces. Izuku’s not surprised. The man performs calculations with every jump, he has to be quick on the uptake. The old man smirks, “good work, you’ll do just fine on the exam if you keep it up.”

Izuku wants to take the rare compliment  but anxiety stirs in his gut instead. “Here’s hoping.” He ducks his head and goes back to stretching. 

The classroom is abuzz with gossip about the final exams. It sneaks its way into every conversation, Izuku can’t listen for long before his stomach twists and he has to shut it out. Lunch is a mercy when it rolls around. 

Shouto waits just outside the door for Izuku, without a word they start heading over to the usual spot outside. Izuku’s lunch is the usual, but Shouto’s bento looks odd today. The rice is misshapen and clumps together in places, but Izuku can swear it’s a cat with one ear. 

“Is that Han?”

Shouto blinks, looking down at his bento. “Yes,” he says after a pause, “Fuyumi’s teaching me how to make bento. She says it's easy once you get the basics.” Izuku’s glad they have the chance to bond like that, and he’s even more glad that Shouto seems to be proud of his rendition of Han.

Izuku reaches for his phone, “can I take a picture?”

“Sure.” 

Uraraka and Iida arrive at the table and when Uraraka spots the bento she gasps, rushing over to their side. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t know you made bento, Todoroki. It’s so cute!” 

“It’s a recent development.” There’s a flush to Shouto’s ears when he says this. Izuku nudges his foot under the table, giving him a tiny smile when he glances over. The flush gets deeper.

Uraraka sits down on her side of the table and they all dig in. Shouto hesitates to destroy his creation at first, but does eventually take a bite. Izuku makes a mental note to send him the picture later. 

The bell rings, while the four of them start packing up, Shouto whispers to Izuku. “Are we meeting up after school again? You didn’t text me back.” 

“Not today,” Izuku whispers back, “I’ve gotta do some stuff.” Shouto accepts it at face value and nods. 

To be fair Izuku really wasn’t lying. But he wasn’t telling the truth, either. When the final bell rings, Izuku walks with Shouto to the gate, hand in hand and using Notice Me Not to keep prying eyes away. He gives Shouto a smile and a final squeeze before letting go and heading to his destination. Along the way, he switches his clothes in a restroom, slipping a medical mask on and pulling his All Might hoodie up. No one notices when he goes in and no one notices when he goes out. 

The outside of the apartment complex still looks, well, crappy, but as Izuku climbs up the stairs he notices Twice’s floor is free of the few pieces of litter he’s grown used to seeing. The welcome mat is dirty as ever, but a pristine slip of paper peeks out from one of the corners. It scrapes against the floor when Izuku crouches down and tugs it free. 

College boy

Thanks for the toys! Mino’s a huge fan of that feather-stick thing you gave us. 

I tried that first recipe you gave me again, and my stove actually stayed on the whole time! It came out way better than I thought it would (I shared some with Mino, he likes it too). 

–Twice

This is usually the point where Izuku smiles and scribbles out a reply of his own, maybe leaving a few things if he had any. His knuckles rap on the door, three quick knocks, and Izuku hopes that Twice is home. The League probably doesn’t work a standard 9-to-5. Just in case, Izuku calls out, “Twice?” just so he knows it’s a friendly face.

The door swings open after a few moments, a little black blur crossing the threshold to climb Izuku’s pants like a tree. Mino’s tiny claws prick his thigh, Izuku picks him up and cradles him. He wonders ih Han would’ve been this cuddly if Izuku had him from a kitten, too. He forces those thoughts away and takes a look inside Twice’s apartment.

There are tiny signs of clutter, a few takeout bags on the kitchen counter and some soda cans, but there’s a sizable spot in the corner free of any garbage. In its place is what looks like a second-hand cat tower and a few toys, which Izuku recognizes as the ones he gave to Twice. 

“So,” Twice leans against his doorframe, crossing his arms, “what’s got you knocking on my door? I mean, it’s good to see ya – great to see ya – but this is new.” 

Right. Izuku shifts Mino’s weight in his arms, he’s tiny, but wriggly. “I’ve got finals coming up, I probably won’t be able to visit for a bit.” Probably more than three weeks, but hopefully less than a month. He could’ve just left this on a note, but that felt too impersonal, so here Izuku is.

Twice nods. “Alright, I’m a big boy, kid. But answer me this – why you look so worn out?”

“What?” Izuku unconsciously tightens his grip on Mino, lightening up and giving him an apologetic head scratch when he mewls in protest. “I’m not–” 

“Up-up-up!” Twice wags a finger at him, “You’re a shit liar, kid, I know the face of someone down on their luck when I see ‘em. Is it that internship? Do I gotta break kneecaps?”

Uraraka makes those kinds of jokes too, but that’s all they are – jokes. With Twice there’s a very real possibility he’ll walk into Nighteye’s agency with a baseball bat. “No!” Izuku bursts out, “no breaking kneecaps.”

“You sure? Not even a little?” He shrugs when Izuku nods, “Have it your way. But those pamphlets say it’s good to talk about it – or something like that. I’ll be honest, I used that one to scoop some of Mino’s kitty litter. But seriously – is it that internship of yours? Superior still being a dick?”

Got it in one. Izuku’s shoulders droop, it feels like defeat when he nods his head. 

“And you don’t want me to break kneecaps?” 

“No.” 

“Well what does he do?” The aura around Twice goes dark, heavy with the promise of something violent. Izuku feels a shudder run down from his tailbone to his neck. It's easy to forget when he’s so carefree, but Twice is a villain. He might not have a body count but he’s definitely not someone the average person wants to cross. “Does he hit you?”

“No!” Izuku blurts with a shake of his head. “He doesn’t hit me, he’s never even touched me.” That also means no pats on the shoulder, no encouraging smiles, no telling Izuku good work at the end of the day. Izuku looks down to Mino, scratching the little kitty under the chin. Mino purrs and wriggles into the touch with a pleased mew. “He just– he says things. They’re harsh. And I guess they've been getting to me.” 

He can’t see Twice’s face, but Izuku feels the murderous intent go away. “And he’s always like that? Even when you don’t mess up?”

“I haven’t messed up – at least, I don’t think I have?” If Izuku ever did, he’s sure Nighteye would have leapt on it. “I can handle it, it’s not a big deal.”

“You just said it was getting to you.” Twice’s voice gets soft, gentle, “No one should talk to a kid like that.”

“I’m not a kid.” Izuku protests. Kids have innocence, and he’s pretty sure he lost that after Hosu. 

Twice drags a hand over his masked face, pulling the fabric around his eyes down. It’s very expressive for a costume, yet it fits what Izuku knows about Twice perfectly. “Look, in the adult world anyone under 20 is a baby, alright? I doubt you got any stubble under that mask.”

Izuku could lie and say he does, but he’s been trying to avoid anything other than a lie of omission with Twice. 

“What does he say?”

“Well, it’s more of what he implies.” Izuku says, “He took me in on a recommendation from my, um, sponsor,” that’s what All Might is, right? “They worked with each other in the past, and my internship mentor really idolizes him. And, I don’t know, he’s always making it clear that I won’t measure up to him – my sponsor, I mean.” 

“And how old is your internship mentor?”

Izuku tries to remember, but nothing he gathered ever said anything about age. “Er, maybe late thirties?”

Twice’s mask, which had been so easy to read, goes blank. “So you got a middle-aged man picking on you?”

Well that just makes it sound worse than it is. Izuku bites the inside of his lip, itching to pick at his fingernails, but his arms are full with Mino. “I’ve already learned a lot.” Sparring with Mirio has done wonders for his close-combat, and working with the case files was fun, even if he dreaded Nighteye’s critiques. “I can deal with it, it’s only for a few more weeks.” Then the idea enters his head: what if it isn’t? What if Izuku has to intern with him for the rest of his time at Yuuei? The dread that fills him should be telling enough, but he shoves it aside. All Might recommended Sir Nighteye, and Izuku’s had experience with people wanting him to fail. He can power through, he will power through. 

“Kid, I don’t care if you learned the meaning of life there. An adult harassing a kid is just another bully.” Twice sees the look in Izuku’s eyes and sighs. “But I’m not your parent, it’s up to you. Just– he’s a grown ass man, you shouldn’t have to deal with this shit.”

And yet he is. Sometimes life’s unfair like that. “I appreciate the concern.” Izuku hands Mino off to Twice. The little kitten is reluctant to leave, snatching Izuku’s sleeve with his claws and refusing to be pried off. In the end though, he’s just a kitten, and he curls up in Twice’s arms, staring at Izuku with wide, betrayed eyes. “I just came by to tell you about finals so you didn’t worry about me. I should probably get going soon.” 

“I see how it is,” Twice swoons, putting a dramatic hand up to his browline, “you’re abandoning me! How cruel!” Then he switches, clenching that hand into a fist and holding it up. “Get up and get gone, you little shit! You got better things to do than talk to washups like me!”

Izuku huffs a laugh, “I don’t think you’re a washup.” In all honesty, he likes talking to Twice. The sudden tone switches were jarring at first, but he’s a very genuine person. Not a lot of people wear their heart on their sleeve like that. Plus, Mino adores him, and cats are great judges of character. “I’ll be back in… three weeks? A month, definitely.” Izuku reaches out, scratching Mino under the chin. “I can’t wait to see how big he gets.” 

“Take care, kid.”

“I will.” Izuku promises.

“You better. I’m breaking kneecaps if you don’t.”

Well, Izuku will just call that extra incentive. 

—-

The days get busier and busier the closer finals come. Gran starts pushing him harder, some teachers start reviewing while others teach new material. On top of all that, Izuku pushes Notice Me Not with Shouto after school. More often than not Izuku ends up passing out before his head hits the pillow. He doesn’t so much as twitch in his sleep, waking up with his alarm to feel Han curled up between his shoulder blades making biscuits. 

As the exams get closer, the rumors surrounding them get more and more wild. A few kids say they’ll be fighting the bots from the entrance exam, others say it’ll be a student versus student tournament. The only real information they get is from Aizawa, and that’s just what’ll happen after. 

“Camping sounds fun.” Izuku admits to Shouto after school. They’ve only just changed into their workout clothes and are starting their warmups. Over the last few days, Izuku and Shouto have hammered out a solid schedule for their training: forty-five minutes for sparring and forty-five minutes for working on their Quirks. The second half was initially only Izuku working on Notice me Not, but he’d felt bad and convinced Todoroki to work on his Quirk, too. 

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been. Have you?” 

“I went once, when I was really little.” It was a few weeks after dad went overseas. Mom thought a change of scenery would be good for him. He had fun, he caught bugs and made smores and splashed in the river, he hopes it’s just as fun this time around. “The others might try to use you to make smores.” He says it as if he wouldn’t join them if they tried – what can he say? A walking fire source is convenient. But only if Shouto’s okay with it, of course. 

“If you’re there, I think I’ll be able to manage.”

Izuku almost swallows his own tongue. “Y-you can’t just say stuff like that.” He splutters, looking away.

“Why not? It’s true.”

Izuku makes a dying noise in his throat. Shouto doesn’t mean to work Izuku up like this, that’s what makes it unfair. He’s so oblivious to his effect on Izuku, or he does know and he’s just teasing. It’s bad enough that the sun hits Shouto’s hair just right in the afternoon, shadowing his eyes and making him look all mysterious. If Izuku’s lucky, he’ll see a sunbeam hit Shouto’s face head-on, his eyes are fascinating on a good day but they’re downright mesmerizing when that happens.

It’s always hard to spar against Shouto with those kinds of thoughts buzzing around in his head. Izuku loses more than he wins, but Shouto is always there to help him up and tell him where he went wrong. He doesn’t heap on the praise, but when Shouto says good job he means it. 

All in all, it’s a productive training session. They get out of their workout clothes and do their usual walk to the main gate. Izuku’s reluctant to let go of Shouto’s hand, but he does it anyway, missing the warmth almost instantly. “See you tomorrow.”

Shouto speaks up before Izuku can turn and start walking away. “Fuyumi says I’m getting better at making my bentos.”

Izuku blinks, “Yeah, I noticed it too.” He does his best not to sound confused, but he can’t figure out why Shouto’s bringing this up now.

Shouto’s breath hitches, his eyes flick away to look at something above Izuku’s head. ”Can I make you one?”

Izuku’s ashamed to say his brain needs a second to process that. Before Shouto can take his silence as a no, he blurts out “I’d love that,” and feels his face heat up as he repeats, “I'd really love that.”  

Shouto does something Izuku’s never seen before: he goes red. He looks rather nice like that, Izuku thinks, and it’s refreshing that he isn’t the only flustered one this time. “Good.” Shouto says, “That’s– I’ll bring it tomorrow?”

Izuku nods, “Tomorrow sounds great. I can bring my cheat snack so we can share that, too.”

“Do you want anything specific?”

Anything would be great, so long as Shouto made it, but if Izuku actually said that he’d probably dig himself a hole and hide in it until he died, so he just says “I like chicken katsudon.” His phone buzzes and he checks it, “ah, sorry Shouto, mom needs me to grab some groceries.” And he has to do it now or he’s going to be too busy at the store to call dad. He shoots his – partner? Boyfriend? Boyfriend makes his brain a little fuzzy – an apologetic smile. 

“That’s fine.” Shouto’s gotten control over his face again and tries to act unbothered, but Izuku can still see a faint flush to his ears. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

There’s a skip in Izuku’s step the rest of the way home, even when he stops by the supermarket and grabs the few things mom asked him to. He doesn’t stutter or let out an “uh” at checkout – something he’s been struggling to do for years . His mind is filled with questions about what Shouto’s bento will look like. Will he try making another Han out of rice? Or will he do something else?  

“Hi mom!” Izuku chirps as soon as he opens the door, hurrying to put the groceries in their proper place. “They didn’t have the usual brand of biscuits, so I grabbed something that looked similar.” 

Mom looks up from the book she’s reading on the couch. “That’s alright. Did you see a hero fight on the way back?” 

It’s a fair assumption, hero fights used to be the only thing that could get Izuku this excited. Now he’s got something way better. He finishes up in the kitchen and sits down on the chair beside the couch. “Shouto and I had a really good training session today.” A dopey smile appears on his face when he remembers the flush to Shouto’s ears.

Mom closes her book, “is he coming over again any time soon?” 

“I dunno. Things are getting pretty busy with final exams coming up.” 

“Well, let him know our door’s always open.”

Izuku thinks about the Todoroki house. Even with all those windows, the rooms felt dark, cold, missing something Izuku couldn’t name. He compares it to his living room – the window is tiny and off to the side, closer to the door than anywhere else, but there’s a sense of comfort and warmth wherever Izuku goes here. He wonders if the difference is safety, but if that’s true it makes Izuku remember things he’d rather not. “I’ll let him know.”

Han trots into the room, letting out a meow when he notices Izuku and hopping up onto his shoulders. “Took you long enough.” Izuku tells him, letting Han rub against his jaw like the cuddlebug he is. He turns his attention back to mom, who’s reopened her book. “I’m heading to my room, dad’s gonna call soon.” Not that there’s anything to hide, but it feels more personal when Izuku’s alone (minus Han, who would yowl his displeasure if Izuku locked him out).

“Alright, tell him I love him.” 

Izuku stands, bearing the tiny pricks from Han’s claws. “Got it.”

His room is just as he left it this morning. Izuku drags his backpack to the side and sits down on his bed. Han takes the chance to relocate to his lap, curling up in a ball and effectively pinning Izuku where he is. He checks his phone, 5:59 stares up at him. Right when it turns to 6, his dad’s caller ID appears, along with his ringtone – the theme song for an old cartoon Izuku vaguely remembers watching with him. He presses “accept call” and puts the phone to his ear. 

“Hey dad!”

“Izuku!” The grainy quality of his audio’s stayed the same, but dad’s enthusiasm has only gotten bigger each time. “How have things been?”

“Good,” Izuku scratches Han’s ear, “things are getting busy.” 

“I bet. Things aren’t so hectic over here, but the pressure’s picking up.”

“Deadlines?”

“I thought I had a bit more time," dad admits, "but things are moving faster than I expected. I’d love nothing more than to do it by myself, but group projects are an unfortunate necessity, and I have an overeager mentee.” Izuku makes a noise in his throat to let his dad know he’s paying attention. “But I won’t bore you with the details. How have things been?” Dad's voice lilts, which makes him sound even stranger with the odd phone quality. "Have you talked to that special someone yet?"

"Dad," Izuku groans, wishing he could bury his face into a pillow. He could, technically, but then his dad would hear it and that's basically admitting it without actually admitting it.

"Don't dodge the question! It's not every day your son gets a schoolyard crush."

"I think it's a little more than a crush now." Izuku has about half a second of blissful ignorance before he realizes what he said and slaps a hand over his mouth. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that."

It's too late. Dad's gone like a dog with a bone. "Oh? Did you confess? Did they confess? Are you dating someone now? It’s like it was only yesterday you wanted to spend the night with me and Inko. Time really does fly."

Izuku grabs a pillow and buries his face in it. His dad is so embarrassing , Izuku doesn’t know how he managed to forget that. 

"Okay, okay, I'll stop teasing."

"Promise?" Izuku asks, muffled by the pillow.

"I swear. I just have one question: what's their name?" 

That’s pretty reasonable. Izuku lets the pillow fall to the side. He pauses, takes a breath, and says "Todoroki Shouto."

The line goes quiet. Izuku’s left to stew in is growing anxiety with every second. 

"Endeavor's son?"

"Yeah." The word leaves Izuku's mouth lifeless. If he let any emotion into it, it wouldn't be anything other than irritation. Shouto's so much more than Endeavor's son. He's sweet, kind when you least expect it, quiet, but always willing to lend an ear. He makes weird-looking bentos, but Izuku doubts he can do any better. Besides, Shouto's been improving day by day, and he's making one for Izuku tomorrow. 

The media doesn't care about any of that. Home, school, everyday life, Shouto can't escape the shadow of his father. And Izuku's own dad asking that was just a slap to the face to remind him.

“I remember you and him having quite the fight during the sports festival.” Dad says. Izuku can’t get anything from his tone other than blithe curiosity, even when he knows there’s more to it. There’s always more to it when dad changes how he talks. 

“We actually met before that at a hero fight. Han wandered off and found him.” Said cat perks up at the sound of his name and mews. Izuku rubs under his chin with a smile. 

“You brought your cat to a hero fight?”

“That’s not the point.” Izuku rushes to say, refusing to justify that decision, because he really can’t. “Shouto’s nice. The sports festival was just… rough.” For everyone. Izuku’s still a bit sad he didn’t win, but he can see it as the opportunity it was. Everyone grew from that day, some in big ways and some in small, but no one walked away empty-handed.

“Does he make you happy?”

Izuku fumbles his phone, “huh?”

“Does Todoroki make you happy?” Dad repeats patiently. 

Izuku doesn’t have to think about it at all. “Yeah. He does.” Even before they got together, Shouto was a bright spot in his life. To anyone who gave a passing glance he’d come off as distant, maybe even cold, but Izuku takes pride in the little bursts of personality Shouto shows every now and then – a well-timed piece of dry humor, the mischievous glint in his eye when he took a bag of Han’s fur home, how he couldn’t even look at Izuku when he asked to make him a bento. He’s so full of life, but he’s had to hide it away before it was smothered. 

“Well, that’s all there is to it.” Dad says. Izuku imagines him shrugging. “I wish I was there, I’ve wanted to give a shovel talk for years.”

Izuku doesn’t know why, but he thinks about the delighted expression on Uraraka’s face during the second part of the sports festival. “I think my friends might beat you to it.” But Shouto wouldn't hurt him on purpose in the first place, so Izuku doesn't need to worry about him being left to enter the stratosphere.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to wait my turn.” There’s something in the background on dad’s side of the phone, it could be a voice or a notification from a machine, the audio is too poor to tell. “Ah, looks like I’ll have to end this a bit early. But before I go – have you told Inko about this yet?”

Izuku’s eyes go wide. “Um.”

“I suppose I should be honored.” Dad says, the amusement clear in his voice. “I’ll see you later, Izuku. Tell your mother before I let something slip and she gets on both of our cases.” 

Izuku nods, “okay.” He hears his dad shuffle to end the call. He doesn’t know what comes over him, but he feels the need to say “I love you, dad.” 

The shuffling on the other end stops. Izuku hears a shuddering breath, distorted by one thing or the other. “... I love you too.” And then Izuku’s screen goes dark, “call ended” flashing in the center. 

Izuku falls back onto his covers, heaving a big sigh. Han gets off his lap to claim his pillow, which is just fine with Izuku. He can’t cut off his dad cold turkey, that would make him realize something was wrong, and if All for One is watching him, that might indicate that Izuku’s onto him. Neither of those are something Izuku wants, so he’s decided not to text his dad anymore and to reduce how often they talk. Izuku’s dad doesn’t act like he’s noticed yet, but he could just be trying to respect Izuku’s boundaries – which makes Izuku feel even worse for doing this. 

He sighs again and gets up, heading for the living room. He told dad he’d spill the beans about Shouto, best to just get this out of the way before he forgets again. 

“Hey, mom? I have something to tell you…”

—--

Todoroki’s lunch bag has a noticeable bulk to it today. Izuku doubts anybody else notices, but he does, and his eyes keep glancing at it throughout class. Between that and the lack of sleep he got last night he doesn’t get much review done. Mom wanted to know everything when he told her about Shouto, and after that they watched cheesy TV dramas until Izuku couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Izuku and Shouto walk to the outside table together, the unusually bulky lunch bag swinging between them.

Izuku takes his seat first, gulping when Shouto pulls out a bento box that looks like the same brand, but where his bento is white, this one is green. 

The way they’re acting, they’re no better than the actors in those dramas from last night. Izuku lifts the lid, ripping the proverbial band aid off. 

It’s split into three sections – one being the katsudon itself, the other being some vegetables, but the main focus is the rice. Where Shouto’s previous attempts at shaping the rice were lumpy and uneven, this one was near picture-perfect. Thin shreds of seaweed are placed on the cheeks to imitate whiskers, and with one ear missing, Izuku knows exactly who it’s supposed to be.

Shouto hasn’t stopped staring since he opened the bento. “Aren’t you going to have some?” He prods. It’s the first time Izuku’s heard him eager for something. 

“Why don't you open yours, too. Then we can eat together?” 

Shouto takes the lid off his bento, the shape of the rice isn’t nearly as sophisticated when compared to Izuku’s. Satisfied, Izuku picks up his chopsticks and grabs a piece of Katsudon. He closes his eyes to savor the crunch, and even though the chicken went cold hours ago he hums in contentment when the seasoning comes through. “Did Fuyumi help you with this?”

“She showed me how, but I did it myself.” Izuku detects a hint of pride. Good, Shouto should be proud. He takes another bite of katsudon, chewing happily.

Iida and Uraraka arrive, placing their own food down on the table. Uraraka’s quick to spot Izuku’s bento, saying, “oh wow, that looks so good, Todoroki!” 

“It looks like you put a lot of effort into it.” Iida agrees. 

“Of course I did.” Shouto replies, his brows furrowing. “It was for Izuku.” 

Iida pauses, looking between Shouto and Izuku. His eyes widen just a bit as he says, “ah.” 

Uraraka looks at him, raising her eyebrows. “Did it only click just now?” she asks, “I mean, they’re not obvious , but you’ve been eating with us this whole time, didn’t you notice them acting all weird?”

Shouto frowns. “We weren’t weird.” 

“Of course I noticed.” Iida protests, sitting straight up and placing his own utensils on a napkin. “I just didn’t think anything of it – but it appears that was wrong of me.”

Shouto frowns deeper at being ignored. Izuku grabs his hand and squeezes, giving Shouto a smile when he turns his head. Izuku should feel more flustered, he knows he would be if anyone else in class found out, but this is Uraraka – who knew before Izuku knew – and Iida – who Izuku and Shouto have literally fought for their lives with. Out of everyone, these two are who he’s most comfortable with besides Shouto. 

There’s a few minutes where Iida and Uraraka bombard them with questions, but things calm down and they’re back to their usual conversation.

“I’m glad they both know now.” Izuku admits quietly to Shouto, walking back to class with him. Iida and Uraraka are up ahead, close enough that they could hear if Izuku spoke at a normal volume but far enough to give them the chance for privacy.

Shouto doesn’t comment at first, but then he looks forward with a smile. “I am, too”

Chapter Text

Uraraka’s relentless once Iida’s in the know, taking it as a green light to grill Izuku over text. He does his best, but she’s tenacious. 

[6:36]

Ok but have you guys gone on a date yet???

[6:45]

Don’t ignore meeeee

Izuku wasn’t – he left for twenty whole minutes to eat dinner. He stares at her first message, thinking. Maybe he should talk to Shouto about it. A movie, maybe? But Izuku doesn’t know what kind of genres Shouto might like, and Shouto probably doesn’t, either. He’ll have to sit on it for a bit. He responds to Uraraka with a no, but that he’s thinking of things to do, and Uraraka sends a barrage of links to places she thinks would be fun. All of them are fairly cheap, so Izuku saves the promising ones and thanks her before working on homework and going to bed. 

For the first time in a while, All Might’s in the gym when Izuku arrives for early-morning practice. He’s fidgeting with his phone, looking at the screen intently enough that Izuku doesn’t even need Notice Me Not to get close. 

All Might startles when he finally picks up in Izuku's presence, pocketing his phone in a hurry. “Hello, Young Midoriya.”

Izuku puts down his bag, "is something wrong?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, you've been absent from morning training for a bit." Two weeks and one day, but who's keeping track. All Might’s probably in high demand, Izuku just hopes he’s keeping his time limit in mind. 

No one’s ever seen the symbol of peace look sheepish, Izuku becomes one of the first. There’s something different about All Might’s expressions when he’s in his true form, they’re more genuine-looking. "Ah, well. I suppose that's not wrong …" He shakes his head, coughing into his hand to clear his throat – thankfully clear of any blood. "I apologize for my absence regardless. But moving on from that, I have a surprise for you." He heads to the benches, where a plain-looking suitcase rests upright. He clicks the latches open and pulls a box out. 

Izuku takes it when it’s offered, feeling the smooth wood under his palms. It’s not cheap material, but it’s only the box, Izuku’s almost scared to see what’s inside. 

“Go on, open it.” 

But he's not scared enough to ignore a request from All Might – not when he looks so eager. Izuku slides the top of the box off. The contents don’t look like much, an unassuming black earpiece, made to fit around the back of the ear to hold it in place. 

“I remember you saying your Quirk doesn’t work on recording devices,” All Might explains, “I know it doesn’t look like much, but this earpiece will interfere with cameras within a certain range. David‘s a busy man, but never let it be said he sacrifices quality for time.”

Izuku almost asks who David is, but then he remembers the conversation he and All Might had in the car, back when he’d confessed about Wallflower. The lump in his throat is the size of an orange, he barely manages to swallow past his dry throat. “Am I holding something made by David Shield?” 

All Might nods, “he was more than willing to make something once I explained the situation. He even told me to give you his number so you could contact him with any feedback.” All Might scratches at his cheek, “I may have boasted a little about your analysis skills.” 

Izuku feels faint. David Shield, the David Shield, wants Izuku’s feedback. “Okay.” He squeaks. He puts the earpiece back in as gently as he can, placing the lid of the box on and stashing it under the bench – the safest it can get right now. Izuku gets to work on stretching, his mind still trying to process that All Might got him something made by David Shield. All Might requested David Shield to make something for him.

“How has training been while I was gone?” All Might asks.

“Good.” Izuku brightens, remembering he hasn’t told All Might about the development with Notice Me Not. “Although I figured something out…”

All Might gives his full attention to Izuku’s explanation. When he doesn’t get something, he asks for Izuku to explain further. It makes him feel bubbly inside to know All Might’s so invested. When he’s finished, All Might reaches out and pats Izuku’s shoulder. Even in his gangly true form, his palms are huge. 

“You’ve made amazing progress, my boy. You’ll have no problem with your finals.” 

The bubbly feeling in Izuku’s chest spills over into a wide smile. “Thanks, All Might.” 

Training goes as usual. Izuku tries to push his threshold for full cowl, dispersing it through his whole body to reduce the stress. In terms of progress, One for All’s starting to lag behind Notice Me Not. The observation makes unease stir in his chest – but he can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from. 

“Would you mind if I walked to class with you, young Midoriya?”

Like he even needs to ask. It’s All Might. “Sure.” 

“Thank you.” They leave the gym and begin the trek to the main building. He talks along the way.  “My boy, I notice you’ve been cashing in more on your cheat snacks lately.” 

He doesn’t phrase it like an accusation, but Izuku still feels the need to defend himself. “I’ve been sharing them with Shouto.”

All Might perks up and Izuku realizes his mistake in calling Shouto by his given name. “Oh? You’ve become quite familiar with Todoroki.”

Izuku gulps. “W-well, he’s a good friend.” He couldn’t convince a goldfish with how high hsi voice is. He sighs, “I mean – we’re… dating? Maybe? We haven’t really talked about it yet so I’m not sure and–”

All Might holds a hand up, Izuku quiets down. “More familiar than I thought.” He comments, smiling when Izuku feels his face heat up. “It’s quite alright, Young Midoriya. I remember being your age. I imagine it was quite the shock to Endeavor though.”

Ice slips under Izuku’s skin. “Shouto – he hasn’t told Endeavor yet. He wanted to do it himself. So can you… avoid talking about it with him?” Shouto told him how Endeavor sees Izuku as an obstacle for Shouto to overcome, there’s no telling how he’d react – well, there is, but none of it points to “well.” 

All Might looks a bit confused, but he agrees, letting Izuku heave a sigh of relief inside. 

Compared to that, the rest of the day goes smoothly. It’s the last Friday before exams start. Their written exams will take up the first half of the school day while the practical will take the other. Nighteye had emailed Izuku ahead of time, letting him know he shouldn’t come in. Mirio replied to the email letting Izuku know he does this every time – an act of kindness that does wonders for Izuku’s blood pressure. 

Izuku hasn’t had a full weekend to himself for a while, he wonders what he’ll do. Studying is a given, but he’s not going to spend every hour of the day with his nose in a textbook. 

Shouto ends up answering that for him during their after-school training. 

“Can I study at your place?” He asks. They’re taking a break from sparring, sitting next to each other and watching a video Izuku saved just to show him. 

Izuku nudges him. “Is your supply of cat hair running low?”

“Yes, but I also just want to spend time with you.” 

Izuku was going to say yes anyway, but that sealed it. 

—-

The weekend passes peacefully, or as peacefully as it can when Izuku spends time with Shouto. It’s not anything specific he does, it’s everything. Izuku’s attention just can’t find a better subject faced with the easy presence next to him. But when he’s paying attention to Shouto, he’s not paying attention to anyone else – and that has a certain white-furred menace up in arms. Han doesn’t draw any blood, but Izuku has three bright red marks on his leg he didn’t have before. 

Izuku and Shouto don’t have time to talk on the day of exams, Aizawa has them take their seats as soon as they arrive. Izuku still manages to catch a quick “good luck” Shouto mouths to him before Aizawa tells them to take out their pencils and begin. 

Izuku would like to think he did alright on all his subjects. Math was hard, as expected, but he forced himself to write down all his steps and go over each problem once he was finished. English was harder, but had done his best to memorize the grammar rules beforehand – even if he definitely missed a few silent letters in his spelling. Once time is called, Izuku hands everything in and can only hope his best will be enough. 

There’s not enough time for lunch between the written and practical exams, but they do offer snacks. Izuku sits with Shouto, having split a bag of fruit gummies with him. He avoids the red gummies when he can, Izuku notices, so he starts picking those out for himself. They’re strawberry flavored this time, so it works out. 

The practical exam finally gets revealed: a team exercise, two students versus one teacher. Izuku thinks it’ll be interesting to see who he’s paired up with until he actually sees it. 

Izuku swallows his gummy before he chokes on it. He feels Shouto’s eyes on him, watching, trying to figure out if he has a reason to be concerned. “It’ll be fine.” Bakugou’s… well, hot-headed comes to mind, but if Izuku can appeal to his need to win everything they can make it through.

Then it’s revealed who everyone will be against, and those naive attempts at psyching himself up wither and die. “…We’ll be fine.” Izuku repeats, a lot less confident. “But hey, you and Yaoyorozu against Aizawa, that’ll be a tough fight.”

Shouto sees the topic switch for what it is, but he goes along anyway. “She’s a good strategist, we’ll be fine.” 

Shouto avoids PDA in class, but there are exceptions to every rule. His hand brushes against Izuku’s before they split into their teams – a quick bit of contact that helps soothe Izuku’s nerves. Izuku tells himself that he can do this, that he’s been training with One for All for months, his control’s much better than it was at the sports festival. This won’t be easy, but it’s hardly impossible . 

Izuku steps out into the open and feels maybe making his hero costume mostly black was a bad idea, especially in the midday sun – but he can’t deny how good it looks. Aside from the seam lines and the nine stars on his back, Izuku’s decked out in sleek black. The fabric absorbs light well, and the soles of his booth have been modified to absorb the sound of his footsteps better. An arsenal of smoke bombs and flashbangs sit on his belt, along with a bag of trap wire strapped to his thigh. 

Bakugou’s hero costume looks the same as it did before, no major changes like Izuku’s. They stand outside, waiting for All Might and the bus that’ll take them to their exam area. Izuku keeps a respectable two meters of distance between them, wishing he could make the bus come faster out of sheer will. He feels like he’s cooking alive. 

Izuku’s more than content to leave the awkward silence between them as it is, but Bakugou doesn’t seem to agree. “I don’t want any of that hiding bullshit, Deku.” He snarls.

Izuku wasn’t planning on it. True, with Notice Me Not Izuku could have them clear this test in however long it took for him to find the exit gate, but it doesn’t sit right with him. This is supposed to be a way for Izuku to see how far he’s come, using Notice Me Not for such an easy win feels… cheap. A copout. 

The bus chooses to appear, All Might waving them in with a big smile. Izuku didn’t see him at all before the written portion – he must’ve been saving it for this.

“Tell me boys, are you excited?”

“Just you wait,” Bakugou promises, sitting as far from Izuku as he can, “I’ll kick your ass without this idiot’s help.” 

There’s a weighted pause before All Might laughs like he always does on TV. “I’m excited to see you try.” He means it to be encouraging, but Bakugou won’t take it that way. He turns to Izuku, missing the rude gesture Bakugou shoots his way. “And you, Young Midoriya?”

“I think we can do it.” Izuku says quietly, unwilling to look over in Bakugou’s direction and see what his reaction is. 

“Well, don’t worry at all.” All Might raises his hand, showing off the resistor cuff on his forearm. “These should weaken me to a more manageable level. It wouldn’t be fair to give you an impossible test. But keep in mind, I have no intention of making this easy for you.” If anything, he’ll probably go even harder against Izuku since he has an idea of all the training Izuku’s been doing.

The bus stops in front of one of the many mock cities on campus; Izuku, Bakugou, and All Might all file out and watch it drive off. All Might walks through the gate and into the city. “You have fifteen minutes to think of a plan before you enter and start the exam.” He tells them, “good luck!” 

Izuku doesn’t think luck will have anything to do with it, luck ditched him the second he and Bakugou were assigned to each other. Bakugou doesn’t even look in Izuku’s general direction, standing off to the side and brooding with his arms crossed. Izuku scuffs the ground with his shoe, wishing he could make the time pass any faster. 

Izuku’s proud of his progress, but he’s not arrogant, he knows there’s not a chance in hell of him actually beating All Might – even with those repressor cuffs. If those things weren’t made by David Shield himself, they won’t be enough. But what can Izuku do? If he uses Notice Me Not to sneak the first cuff on All Might, there won’t be enough time to get the other one on. Plus, there are definitely cameras all over the testing grounds, if he does anything too obvious with Notice Me Not it’ll raise uncomfortable questions about his Quirk. Izuku felt safe telling Shouto because he isn’t the type to ask questions, the Yuuei faculty are another story. 

The alarm blares, signaling the start of their exam. Bakugou strides forward without a word, making Izuku pick up the pace just to stay in hearing range without having to raise his voice. “Bakugou, do you have a plan–?”

“Fuck off, Deku. Go and be useless somewhere else. I’m going to win, I don’t need deadweight dragging me down.” 

Okay, hurtful, but not as much as it used to be. It’s nice to see himself making progress, even when the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal. Izuku keeps trailing after Bakugou, “are you really going to fight All Might? Alone?” There’s arrogance and then there’s stupidity, Bakugou’s done a great job of mixing the two here. 

The two of them go further into the city, losing sight of the gate they came in from. Logic says that the exit will be in the opposite direction in which they came, but assumptions are a fast way to dig a hole, and Izuku would like to avoid that as much as he can. “Bakugou, please–” 

Pain spears Izuku right between the eyes, just like it did with Shouto at the villain attack. Izuku has a split second between that pain and the overwhelming sense that he needs to dodge to make a decision. 

He takes a running start, knocking both himself and Bakugou to the ground. Bakugou doesn’t have time to demand Izuku get off of it or blast him for the grave offense of touching him, there’s a whump of air pressure and suddenly the city around them isn’t a city anymore – it’s rubble. 

Bakugou shoves Izuku off, digging his knee into Izuku’s gut. “What the fuck was that, huh?” 

Izuku rolls onto his back and coughs, feeling dust settle in his lungs. The pain in his head is gone, but he feels it lurking, waiting to come back. Those resistor cuffs should be dampening All Might’s power, but that didn’t feel very dampened. “Bakugou,” he rasps, “we’re not going to pass if we don’t work together.” Izuku gestures to the wrecked city around, further ahead of, and behind them. “He’s not even using his full power and he did all of this.” 

Bakugou’s gotten up now, dusting himself off and looking around for any sign of All Might. “Shut up, Deku. I don’t wanna hear shit from the loser who hid from all his problems in middle school.” Even so, there’s a hint of trepidation in his eyes. 

This is stupid. The thought comes racing through Izuku’s mind, taking root and letting frustration bloom. The pain creeps back into his head and shreds his self-preservation. Izuku’s not thrilled at working with his old bully, but he’s going to be a hero – and that means working with people you don’t like, people who you’d rather leap across a crevice to avoid. But that doesn’t mean anything if Bakugou doesn’t cooperate , dammit. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you have preferred if your target practice stayed still? We’re not in middle school anymore, Bakugou, stop bringing it up like it matters anymore.” 

It’s odd. For most of Izuku’s childhood he was scared of Bakugou. He was such a big figure in Izuku’s life, a looming threat. But Izuku’s changed since he came to Yuuei, he’s made friends, gotten more confident (marginally, but it’s there) and pushed himself to the breaking point time and time again. All the while, Bakugou stayed the same. He doesn't look at all their incredible classmates and see a chance to grow, he thinks he’s enough as he is. He’s let himself stagnate in his confidence, while Izuku’s insecurities have driven him to improve. Izuku’s outgrown Bakugou’s shadow, and he sees his old bully for what he is – a kid, like him. Not some big monster that’ll bite Izuku’s head off, not a demon here to torment him, Bakugou’s just a kid who was born with a flashy Quirk and felt like that made him inherently better. He’s not so scary when he’s been broken down to his basics.

Bakugou roars, trying to take a swing at Izuku with those giant gauntlets. Izuku dodges, Bakugou really is predictable when he’s angry. Then a large shadow appears and Bakugou has other things to worry about.

“Now, that’s not very sportsmanlike, Bakugou.” All Might’s voice lacks the lighthearted tone Izuku’s grown so used to hearing. His eyes aren’t cold, but they’re focused, and they aren’t happy with what they see. “I imagine young Midoriya said something similar,” he grabs Bakugou by the gauntlet, raising him up with minimal effort and a “but you’ll need to work together to stand against me! ” 

He chucks Bakugou on the last word, sending him careening through the air and into one of the still intact buildings at the edge of the blast range. 

All Might turns his focus to Izuku in an instant. He doesn’t blink, and he doesn’t look away. Izuku realizes he’s trying to make sure Izuku doesn’t pull up Notice Me Not.”Let's see how you use full cowl, my boy.” It’s not a suggestion. 

The pain in Izuku’s head has settles into a persistent ache, it’s nothing Izuku hasn’t felt before – overusing Notice Me Not to hide from one sense alone has him accustomed to migraine – but it heightens the instincts at the back of his head yelling at him to run, run far and hide in the deepest hole he can find. He digs his feet into the ground and lets sparks dance across his skin before he dashes forward. 

Most pro heroes settle into a set fighting style after a few years in the public eye – something that people can recognize, similar to signature moves but not as flashy. All Might tends to end things as fast as he can, as efficiently as he can. He rarely goes on the defensive, and he has a devastating right punch. It used to be his left punch, but his scar made that no longer an option. Ideally Izuku wouldn’t get hit at all, but if he had to it’d be better if it was by the left side. 

All Might shifts at Izuku’s approach, falling into a fighting stance and waiting for him. But Gran didn’t teach Izuku for all these weeks for him to close the distance this recklessly. Izuku angles his feet and skids, kicking up all the concrete dust that gathered underfoot. The cloud goes right into All Might’s face. The hum of Notice Me Not returns full force, but Izuku ignores it in favor of getting behind All Might and landing a spinning roundhouse to All Might’s right side. 

He’s not hiding this time. 

All Might stumbles. Izuku catches a trickle of blood on the corner of his mouth before All Might wipes it off. “Not bad, my boy.” He says, his voice ragged from the dust. Izuku has no reply other than a grim smile, shaky at the edges and ready to fall apart at any moment. 

Bakugou comes back from the building he crashed into screaming. All Might turns to deal with him, and Izuku, high off the success of his first hit, forgets not to push his luck. All Might grabs Bakugou by the arm again, taking a blast to the face so he can turn and throw him into Izuku. 

He bites his tongue somewhere along the tumble, the copper is enough to snap him out of the initial shock. Izuku gets to his feet and barely manages to dodge the next hit. 

All Might learned after that first time. He keeps on Izuku like white on rice, never letting up, never giving him a break. Bakugou tries to get a few good hits in but All Might just tosses him away when he can like a pesky fly. All Might doesn’t let Izuku have time to think, much less try and pull Notice Me Not up. He’s not the lighthearted mentor Izuku knows anymore, he’s brute strength and cunning, a mountain of a man dead set on putting Izuku on the ground. 

He feels the wind tug at his hair when he dodges the next hit, the pressure cracking the concrete behind them. For the first time, fear starts to trickle into Izuku’s heart when he sees All Might’s massive form. 

It’s a stroke of luck that Bakugou comes in when he does. “I’m fucking done with this!” He roars, reaching for the pin on one of his gauntlets. “Howitzer impact!” 

The world goes quiet. Wait, no, it’s Izuku’s hearing that goes, the high pitched whine deafening everything else. Izuku feels like sobbing when Notice Me Not hums in his palms, the same frequency as Han’s purring. He lets it envelop him wholly, his muscles going limp as it soothes his nerves. He’s safe. All Might can’t find him anymore. 

He’s–

He’s left Bakugou to face All Might. Alone. Sacrificing his teammate for his own safety. What’s heroic about that? 

Maybe Nighteye had a point. 

He stands from the wreckage, his costume a solid shade of gray instead of its original sharp black. Izuku can’t see where Bakugou’s gone after the explosion, but All Might is easy to spot being the only thing still standing taller than six feet. 

Blood in his mouth and dust in his nose, he closes his eyes and tries to get a grip. He feels childish for how hard it is to let Notice Me Not drop – he’s not a spoiled kid clinging to a toy – but he does manage to pry it off, finger by finger. The headache returns once it drops fully.

All Might spots him right away. His smile doesn’t falter, but Izuku can feel his confusion. Was he expecting Izuku to run and hide? That somehow makes all of this even worse. 

Izuku tries for a smile, it’s probably more of a blood-filled grimace. “I’m here, All Might.” Oh, he didn’t even realize that was a play on All Might's catchphrase until it left his mouth. How funny. How pathetic. 

“So you are.” All Might agrees slowly, “my boy, why did you–?”

Izuku’s never been more thankful for Bakugou than he is at that moment. He comes in full throttle and steaming like an engine. It’s enough to cut All Might off before he can finish.

This is their last chance. Izuku’s gotten familiar with his limits, and he’s never used full cowl at this percentage for so long before. His whole body aches, his head throbs, and his heart is a jumbled mess of things he doesn’t want to pull apart. He just wants this all to end. He channels One for All as high as he dares and pushes off, closing the distance.

A series of things go wrong in just two seconds. Bakugou changes mid-air like Izuku did. All Might, focused on him, turned to keep him in sight. Izuku, who had been aiming for the middle of All Might’s abdomen, doesn’t have time to stop before his fist digs into All Might’s left side – right in the center of his scar. 

The sound All Might lets out isn’t human. Or it is, and Izuku’s too entrenched in his own horror to recognize it. All Might’s full attention is focused on Izuku now, and Izuku doesn’t resist as hard as he should when All Might grabs him by bicep and launches him. 

It’s hard to get his bearings when he’s flopping around midair, but he has one look at All Might’s panting form before the middle of his back digs into something hard and metallic. The rest of him continues, making him bend in a way no body should. He feels something crack, and has just enough time to think “that’s not good” before the pain makes everything go black around the edges. He hits the floor, still conscious enough to see All Might knock Bakugou out, too. 

It’s over. 

Izuku closes his eyes and passes out.

Chapter Text

It probably says something that Izuku knows exactly where he is when he comes to – Recovery Girl uses a specific type of detergent for the bedsheets in her office, he’s had time to familiarize himself. 

“Honestly, do you have a brain in that thick skull of yours or should I have you take an MRI to check?”

He’s also familiar with Recovery Girl’s ranting. He’s pretty sure he knows who she’s mad at, too. Izuku cracks his eyes open just enough to see All Might’s true form hunched over in a chair next to the bed. His hands are intertwined, his head down to stare at the tile floor. 

“I didn’t mean to.” He says, his voice weak. His hands clench, Izuku sees his fingertips go red from the pressure. “It was a reflex.”

“Reflex or not, you almost broke his spine!” Recovery Girl continues. “If you’d thrown any harder, I would have had to transfer him to a hospital.”

All Might flinches. Izuku can’t let him take this. He opens his eyes fully, and even though his mouth's a bit dry he forces himself to say, “it was my fault.” Both adults turn to him, surprised to see him awake. Izuku sits up, wincing at the twinge in his, well, everything. “I hit his scar. I was aiming for his chest, but he moved when Bakugou came from the side and–”

“It’s alright, my boy.” All Might says. His tone is gentle, soft, concerned, so different from the way he acted in the exam. The hindbrain part of Izuku relaxes, no longer recognizing All Might as a threat. Then Izuku feels shame for even thinking of him as one in the first place. “I had a responsibility as the teacher in that scenario, and I failed. I failed you, young Midoriya. And I will never forgive myself for that.”

“But I was the one who hit you.” 

All Might pokes him right between his eyes, making Izuku blink and make a tiny noise in his throat. “No buts, young man.” 

Recovery Girl watches them both, and Izuku can just barely pick up how her severe expression lessens. “I’m finished with my lecturing. I’m sure Eraserhead will want a piece of you when he gets ahold of that footage.” she comments. 

All Might breaks into a cold sweat. “A-ah.” 

Izuku pats him on the bicep in solidarity. He’s sure Eraserhead won’t be happy Izuku broke bones, either – even when he technically didn’t break them himself.

Recovery Girl gives them both a knowing look, like she’s taking in two dead men walking. When Aizawa’s through with them, they might as well be.  “I’m sure you have things to discuss. I’ll be behind the curtain. She gets up from her stool and pulls the curtain out, hiding Izuku and All Might from the rest of the nurse’s office. 

All Might sits up straight, scooting his chair so it’s facing Izuku properly. He’s waiting for something, Izuku realizes, maybe for Izuku to speak up, but there’s not much to say. Izuku failed the exam, failed All Might, after all the work he’s put into Izuku it must feel like a slap to the face, or a punch to the gut.

He’s not sure how long they sit in silence, only that All Might breaks it with a cough that racks his whole frame. Izuku sits up, ignoring a twinge in his back, but All Might waves him off, grabbing one of the many handkerchiefs Izuku knows he has on hand. The blood clots are a lot larger than usual, Izuku wonders if that’s his fault. 

All Might catches the look on his face. “It was a good punch, even if you weren’t aiming for my side.” He says. He means for it to be a compliment but all it does is make Izuku’s guilt stronger. “But my boy, near the end of the fight… You dropped your Quirk on purpose.”

Izuku’s hands tighten, forcing the white fabric to wrinkle. “I would have been running away. Bakugou couldn’t fight you alone.” He couldn't fight All Might with Izuku, either, but their chances would’ve been a little higher. If Bakugou would have just listened, maybe they could’ve made an actual plan, something that could have worked against All Might’s terrifying power. Izuku remembers the cold fear he’d felt facing down his mentor, it’s still taking more time than he’d like to go away. What kind of student is he if he can’t even look at All Might right now?

“I see.” All Might murmurs. He doesn’t sound like he does. “But Bakugou seemed determined to do things on his own, my boy. It’s not your fault when someone is unwilling to cooperate.” 

But All Might would have been able to, if he were in Izuku’s shoes. All Might can convince anyone to work with him, even Endeavor, and Izuku would even dare to say Endeavor’s worse than Bakugou. The things he’s done– 

Izuku shakes his head, keeping his face down. All Might takes it as Izuku rejecting his words, Izuku can hear the frown in his voice. “ I know it’s hard to accept, but it’s best to learn this in a place like school and not in the middle of a villain fight.” His voice goes soft, a little far away. Izuku wonders what nightmare he’s remembering. “You can’t control people, my boy, and you’re not responsible for their decisions, either. All you can do is your best.”

“But my best wasn’t good enough, All Might.” Izuku forces out, finally looking up at All Might’s surprised face. “I couldn’t get Bakugou to work with me, I couldn’t take you head-on, I didn’t want to run away. Nothing was good enough.” It’s been a while since he felt this useless, the thought makes it harder to keep everything under control. 

All Might stays gentle, maybe even encouraging. “But my boy, you’ve been working with Gran Torino on mixing Notice Me Not and One for All, I thought you would incorporate that into your exam.”

“Then why did you say you wanted to see me use Full Cowl?” Izuku asks. “I– I thought you meant you only wanted to see One for All.”

“... Perhaps I could have worded it better.” All Might concedes after a pause. “But Midoriya, saying you’ve come far isn’t empty words from me. I’m just trying to understand.”

His tone shifts on that last part, making Izuku stiffen. There’s always something else when someone’s tone shifts. “I didn’t want to use it.” He says shortly. 

“I noticed. But why ?”

Izuku keeps his mouth shut, stubbornly biting his tongue. 

“Please, Midoroya, talk to me. I can’t help fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

“It’s not something you can fix.” Izuku snaps, the dam breaking. “I– I’m not Mirio, okay? Notice Me Not doesn’t work with One for All, it’s underhanded and it’s cheap and Mirio would have been a better successor–” He chokes on his own momentum when he sees All Might’s expression.

“...” The shadows look deeper around his eyes, The overhead lighting emphasizing the set to his mouth. Everything about All Might has gone frighteningly still, like one move might shatter the chair he’s in. “My boy,” even his tone is forcefully controlled, Izuku has no idea what’s swirling beneath it. “Did Sir Nighteye tell you that?”

It’s all too much for Izuku. The tears are an answer on their own, dripping down his face to hit the blanket like blood spatter. His chest starts to shake as sobs slip out without his permission, building up momentum until he’s hunched over in the bed, hugging his face to his knees to avoid All Might’s gaze. 

The chair groans as All Might stands. Izuku can’t see anything other than his back, but his shoulders are tense and he’s moving with purpose. Izuku wants to cry out, to beg him to stay. He can be mad all he wants, but please just don’t leave him alone. He doesn’t want to be alone like this, being alone with his thoughts is the last thing Izuku needs right now. Izuku wants nothing more than for All Might to stay, stay and tell him it’s not his fault – a childish wish, but still desperate in his heart. Yet when Izuku tries to speak all that comes out is a voiceless cry. The door to the nurse’s office opens and closes, the final click shut making another round of tears spring to Izuku’s eyes. He keeps everything as quiet as he can, other students will come in, Izuku’s sure, he doesn’t want to draw their attention or have Recovery Girl waste her time trying to comfort him when she has better things to do. 

Izuku’s used to the way time blurs when he’s upset. It’s hard to keep track of the minutes when he’s trying so hard to stay silent. He’s chosen to roll over onto his side and curl up, using the sheets to absorb his tears and muffle his hiccups. He faces away from the curtain, too, so if Recovery Girl peeks in she’ll assume he’s resting. It’s a trick he used to pull with his mom, and it hasn’t failed him yet. 

His ears perk up when the door opens again. For a second, Izuku thinks All Might came back, but his hopes are replaced with dread when he hears Shouto’s voice. “Hello, Recovery Girl.”

“Hello to you too, Todoroki. I take it you’ve finished your exam?”

“Yes. Eraserhead wanted you to check my ribs. I was left hanging for… a good amount of time.”

“Alright, take a seat. But try to be quiet, I have a patient resting.”

Izuku barely even dares to breathe while Shouto’s in the room. Out of everyone in class, he’s the last person Izuku wants to see him like this. Everyone else he can just brush off with simple assurances, but Shouto would never leave it at that. So he stays still.

Shouto stays silent while Recovery Girl runs a checkup on him. Izuku can’t see, but he imagines Shouto keeping that blank expression the entire time and it’s enough to make him smile a bit. 

He’s not ready to hear the curtain pull back, twitching noticeably like a kid caught past bedtime. He prays it’s Recovery Girl, but his prayers are unanswered when he doesn’t hear her cane .

Izuku listens to Shouto sitting down in the empty chair. He doesn’t try to say anything or touch him, he just sits there, sharing that easy silence they always have. Shouto doesn’t even know if Izuku’s awake, but he’s still here, keeping him company. With his emotions already so close to the surface it’s enough to bring another wave of tears, slipping silently into the sheets. His chest lets out another hiccup, one too noticeable for Shouto to not have seen it, but Shouto remains quiet. 

Izuku bites the bullet and reluctantly rolls over, facing Shouto, who doesn’t even blink at Izuku’s runny and splotchy face. His voice gives out at the start, but Izuku asks, “How’d you know it was me?”

“I saw Bakugou on my way here.” Shouto explains quietly. “And out of all our classmates, you were the most likely to get hurt enough to require bed rest.” 

Izuku laughs weakly, it comes out as more of a nasally snort. “I’m pretty predictable, aren’t I?”

Shouto’s mouth twitches, it’s not a smile, but it makes Izuku feel better anyway. “You are.” 

“I heard you say you were hanging for a while, how’d that happen?” It’s a blatant deflection, but Shouto entertains it, telling Izuku all about his own exam. How Yaoyorazu had a lapse of confidence, and how Shouto was the one to vote for her in the class elections. Using heat-sensitive material to capture Eraserhead was clever, Izuku gushes over the plan enough for Shouto to get embarrassed about his role in it. Slowly, Izuku’s voice rises in volume until Recovery Girl can definitely hear them, she’s just ignoring them out of politeness.  

“Izuku.” 

A smidge of tension returns to Izuku’s shoulders at Shouto’s tone. “I know.” He says, “I just– All Might was here when I woke up, I said something I shouldn’t have and he left.”

“You didn’t want him to.”

Izuku feels himself getting choked up again, phantom pains of his own desperation pinging around in his chest. “I didn’t.” He reaches out, taking comfort in Shouto’s hand wrapped around his own. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

Shouto gives his hand a squeeze. “Do you want to head out? I think I know a way to cheer you up.”

“Oh? ”Before Izuku can even ask, Recovery Girl speaks up from her side of the room.

“You’re all clear to go, you two. A bit of fresh air will do you both some good.” 

Izuku clambers out of bed, wincing as pins and needles lance his feet. Shouto puts a hand on his shoulder, but Izuku shakes it off, giving himself a minute to let them fade on their own. Recovery Girl presses a bag of gummies into his hand, giving him a kind smile and a wink. Shouto holds the door open for them both, waiting for Izuku to leave first before following. 

“Do you want to wash your face?” Shouto asks. Izuku nods and Shouto starts to guide them toward the restrooms. No one passes by, no one sees the puffiness of Izuku’s cheeks or the redness of his eyes. It’s a small blessing, but Izuku appreciates it. 

Shouto waits outside the bathroom for him, ;etting Izuku scrub his face with lukewarm water from the sink and wipe his face off with some paper towels. It’s not much, but he feels a little more human, a little less raw, and he’s learned to take what he can get. 

They go back to the lockers so Izuk can get changed into something other than his hero costume. Dust has mixed into the fabric, making it an off shade of gray instead of the pitch black Izuku started with. He strips it off and puts it back in the case, hoping there’s a washing guide somewhere in there too.

They’re an hour out from when school would usually end, but exam days are different, they can leave whenever they’ve finished. Being an hour early also means the rush hour traffic is nonexistent. Izuku only sees a handful of cars along their little stroll. Shouto’s steps stay confident, he doesn’t have to look up directions, and Izuku’s left to wonder just where they're going. He could ask, but there’s something nice about leaving it a mystery. Shouto wants to cheer him u0p, Izuku won’t spoil his own surprise. 

They end up in a shopping center a few blocks from campus. Being a weekday, foot traffic is slow, nothing compared to how it would be on a weekend. The afternoon heat is just this side of uncomfortable, but Shouto’s hand is cool in Izuku’s own. There are no food carts, but the occasional scent from a restaurant will waft past Izuku’s nose. They don’t have to force their way through any crowds, they keep a leisurely pace, unbothered.  

“We’re here.” Shouto says, stopping outside of a cafe. It’s small, looking more like a hole-in-the-wall establishment than a big chain. Even so, what Izuku can see of the interior is pleasant, cozy even, with rustic lighting and wooden furniture. Izuku finds himself stepping inside without thinking about it. 

Shouto steps in behind him. “Can you have dairy?”

Izuku looks over his shoulder, questioning in his eyes. “Yea?”

“Good. Find us a seat, I’ll go order.” He leaves before Izuku can protest, or ask why he needed to know if Izuku’s lactose intolerant. Without much else to do, Izuku does as he’s told, finding a nice little nook near the back of the shop, midden away from view – at least, from the main entrance. He fidgets with his phone, thumbing the power button like it might help. Even with his nook, Izuku feels exposed, he’d love to turn Notice Me Not on, but then Shouto wouldn’t be able to find him. The best izuku can do is hunker down and wait. 

When Shouto does find Izuku he has two steaming mugs in hand, Izuku smells the chocolatey aroma from where he's sitting. “Here.” Shouto hands him one of the mugs as he takes his own seat. Izuku cups it in his hands, savoring the heat that radiates from the ceramic. Shouto takes a sip from his cup and Izuku copies, wincing when it burns his tongue. He hasn’t had hot chocolate in years, but it’s good: rich and with just the right amount of sweetness.. 

He reaches for his wallet, prepared to ask what he owes, but Shouto cuts him off. “It’s on me.”

“Are you sure?”

Shouto nods. “Gran Torino did something similar for me. Think of it as me returning the favor, if that makes it better.” 

“Oh, Gran never mentioned it.”

“He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would.”

Izuku smiles down at his cup. “Yeah.” He’s not the type who expects gratitude for his actions, but Izuku still decides he’ll thank Gran the next time he sees him. The extra laps will be worth it. 

They sit together, Izuku and Shouto, taking sips of their hot chocolate every now and again. The ambient sound of the cafe fills the silence, letting them enjoy their drinks. Shouto doesn’t make any move to press Izuku about what happened in his exam, and that lack of pressure is what encourages Izuku to open up about it. 

“I was stupid.” Izuku starts, “I… I had a chance to win, but I threw it away.” The dust cloud had been thick enough, and All Might had still been focused on Bakugou. Izuku could have used that one moment where he had Notice Me Not up to use Full Cowl and make a break for the exit gate. No one watching on the cameras would have questioned it, either. It was the perfect setup, but he didn't take it, he tossed the chance aside and chose to lose. 

Nothing about Shouto’s expression shifts, his body language stays open, and it’s baffling how easy Shouto is to read once you know him. “Why?” 

And that’s the real question, isn’t it? Izuku’s scared to answer it, scared to look inside himself and see whatever’s hiding away in some dark, small corner. But his stomach is warm with hot chocolate, and Shouto’s made no move to judge him, and Izuku’s starting to doubt he ever will. Izuku takes another sip of his drink to give him time to pull himself together. “Notice Me Not isn’t a strong Quirk,” he starts, “not on its own. It’s versatile, I can use it for all sorts of things, but… it doesn’t really fit the image of a pro hero.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, pro heroes are up-front,, they don’t use cheap tricks to get an advantage. They’re just that good.”

The first sign of disapproval appears on Shouto’s face. “Who told you it was cheap?”

“No one.” It comes out as a reflex, but Izuku corrects himself. “I mean, it was always in the back of my head, but… my internship mentor… he’s always talking about how I’m not at All Might’s level.”

“At All Might’s level,” Shouto says, “or All Might?”

Izuku almost asks if it matters when the wording catches up to him. They had talked about this before, he recalls, not word-for-word, but the content is the same. Something about shadows to outgrow and the people who cast them in the first place. 

“Answer some things for me.” Shouto continues. “Does he push you until you collapse?”

Well, aside from the practical, no, All Might has never done that. If anything, he’s the one reminding Izuku to take breaks. 

“Does he criticize you, even when you haven’t done anything wrong?”

No. He’s always ready to give some constructive criticism, but he never picks Izuku apart. He’s never intentionally made Izuku feel small. Unintentionally? It’s hard not to, he’s the number one and Izuku’s just… Izuku. 

“Has he ever made you feel ashamed of Notice me Not?”

No. Even on the day they met, All Might never said anything bad about his Quirk. All Might hasn’t done anything Shouto has listed, but Nighteye has. It feels like every other breath Nighteye was disparaging him, comparing him to All Might or finding some passive way to imply how Mirio would have been better. And Izuku was so convinced he could handle it he never even realized Nighteye’s sentiments started affecting him. He feels his face heat up with the shame of his realization, of how easily he had dismissed everything.

“I’m glad.” Shouto says, “he really is the opposite of Endeavor.”

“I–I’m sorry. This probably seems silly compared to everything you went through–”

Shouto’s voice stays cool, empty of any irritation of passive aggressiveness when he corrects Izuku. “It’s not. My mother’s therapist says people shouldn’t compare what they’ve been through. Bad things have happened to us, they don’t define us.” The look on his face says he’s still working on that last bit, but that’s fine, the fact he’s started working on it at all is incredible in Izuku’s eyes. 

“Sounds like a smart therapist.” Izuku says, using a napkin to wipe at his eyes before any more tears can fall.

“I’d hope so. It’s their job.” 

Izuku manages a surprised snort. He sobers, looking up and giving Shouto a small smile. “Thank you.” It’s for a myriad of things. For being there, for taking him out for hot chocolate, for helping him through this realization. 

Shouto knows what he means, giving a smile of his own. They’re becoming more common these days, something Izuku’s thankful for. The burn scar makes the skin on the left side of his face stiff, his lip doesn’t turn as high as it does on the right, but the expression softens his whole visage. This is the Shouto Izuku’s come to know, to appreciate and laugh with and– he can’t say ‘love’ because that  word holds a planet’s worth of gravity, but the affection in Izuku’s chest for Shouto could very well grow into that. It’s scary, but it’s equally exciting. 

They don't leave the cafe, even when they’re sipping at the dregs of their hot chocolates. The atmosphere is calm, soothing, perfect for Izuku’s recovering nerves. Shouto moves to sit next to him, pulling out his phone and scrolling through the picture gallery to show all the attempts at making Izuku’s fine-detailed bento. Some of them are so bad Izuku can’t help but snort, but Shouto doesn’t take offense. After a while, Izuku leans against Shouto’s arm, letting his head rest on his shoulder. Shouto stiffens at first, but he relaxes. It’s almost unnoticeable, but he tilts his head to rest against Izuku’s too, a barely-there pressure that makes Izuku’s hide a smile. 

The door to the cafe opens, Izuku registers the sound distantly, but the clamor of voices that follow is far more attention-grabbing. 

“Is that Hawks?” Someone mutters, just close enough for Izuku’s straining ears to pick up.

The source of the commotion approaches the counter to order, a brief flash of blond hair is shielded by two massive crimson wings, the flight feathers threatening to brush the ground. Izuku knows about Hawks, anyone who gives more than a passing glance at the hero rankings knows about Hawks. Age 22 and already in the top 25, people are already talking about him breaching the top ten next year. Izuku can understand why, the rankings take a lot of things into account, their success rate and achievements, obviously, but public opinion and popularity, too. Hawks’ interviews show him as an easygoing, charismatic young man with incredible control of his Quirk. Izuku’s seen him in action a few times, maneuvering dozens of feathers to carry out individual tasks. 

“I’ve seen him at a few events,” Shouto murmurs to Izuku. “This isn’t his usual patrol route.”

“Maybe he’s taking a break?” Izuku suggests. It falls flat, even to him. 

Hawks takes his drink from the counter, thanking the barista with a wink. He turns before he can see the girl’s face go red like a traffic light, his eyes skimming over the tables, searching for a place to sit. Izuku feels something cold brush the back of his neck when those gold eyes catch him and Shouto. It’s silly, Hawks is a pro hero, but in that moment, Izuku felt like he’d been stared down by a predator. The feeling passes when Hawks’ face lights up, his feet carrying him over to their table. With him follows the cafe’s attention, Izuku feels the background hum of Notice Me Not dampen under all the stares that transfer from Hawks to him. 

Hawks stops in front of the table, steam curling up from his cup. “You two are Yuuei students, right?” There’s a glint in his eye, an upturn of his mouth, at least five other indicators that he already knows the answer. 

Izuku might have swallowed his tongue somewhere between Hawks coming in and asking that. Shouto’s the one who answers. The simple air around him sharpens, reminding Izuku of a bitingly cold winter day. “We are. You’re a bit far from your usual routes.” 

It’s the type of bluntness that got Shouto labeled as a loner by the class, but Hawks only chuckles and rubs the back of his head. “Yeah, a friend recommended this place. Thought I’d take an extra 5 and check it out.” 

“Must be a slow day.” Shouto comments. 

“Well, we can’t all be Endeavor. That guy’s work ethic is crazy.” 

Ah, of all the things to say, that might have been the worst. Izuku interrupts before Hawks can notice Shouto’s expression darken. “Tokoyami job shadowed you a few weeks ago. He said he learned a lot.” In truth, Izuku only heard his classmate because he had been in his own seat, Notice Me Not pulled up so he could doodle in relative peace, but the distraction works. 

“You’re in Tokoyami’s class?” Hawks brightens up, his smile losing some of its edge so it looks more excited than sly. “Wait– I remember you two.” Izuku’s gut clenches, preparing for Hawks to mention Hosu. “From the sports festival, right?” 

Izuku relaxes. “Yeah.”

“Man, your fight was the best one by far.” Hawks continues, either ignoring their discomfort or genuinely not noticing. Izuku’s inclined to believe the former. “It takes a lot of control to use that kinda power, both of you. Almost wish you came to job shadow me with Tokoyami. No use crying over spilt milk, though.” He uses his free hand to rummage around his jacket pocket, pulling out a business card and handing it to Izuku, who’s too dumbfounded to refuse. “Hey, provisional licenses are after your break, right? Send me an application, I think it’d be fun to work together.” 

Izuku stares down at the card in his hand. It’s professional looking, even color-coded to Hawks’ outfit, but what makes Izuku halt is the email at the bottom. It’s one of the Hero Commission's. The ice he had been preparing for strikes, running through his fingers, up his arm to his very heart. That calculating look Hawks had in his eye when he spotted them, the deviation from his typical patrol route, bringing up the internships. Gran’s been bending over backwards to make sure Izuku never met these guys, and they’ve been stubborn by the sound of it. They could have decided to bypass Gran entirely and go straight for him, as indirectly as they could – through, say, a chance encounter at a cafe. It could be paranoia, but Izuku hesitates to write everything off as random chance. 

Does that mean they knew Izuku and Shouto were here? Had they been watching him? The hot chocolate in his stomach curdles at the thought. 

Hawks checks his phone and hums. “Well, looks like the break’s over. Think about my offer some, alright?” Izuku feels like he’s being dissected by those eyes. 

He’s only just barely managed to scrape his defenses together after the practical, but Izuku throws on a fake smile and makes it as genuine as he can. Act nervous, he tells himself, channel that embarrassing hero-worship he used to have in middle school for anything related to Quirks. Make it look like he’s really considering it so what comes out next doesn’t sound like a platitude. “I will.” Shouto just grunts. Whether that’s a yes or a no, who’s to say. 

“Take care then.” Hawks pivots on his heel and makes to leave the cafe, his wings making his frame much wider from the back than the front. Izuku slumps down into his seat once the door closes, scrubbing his face and sighing hard enough to make his chest hollow out. 

“Hawks gave me a business card.” He says aloud. 

Shouto pauses. “Do you plan on taking his offer?” his tone is slightly more tense than it was before.

Izuku shakes his head. “Gran would have my head.” Only after kicking his ass around the gym for half an hour. “Plus, my dad’s got… opinions. About the Hero Commission.” Izuku feels the need to explain when Shouto cocks his head. “Lady Nagant was sponsored by them, and she– well, dad said she killed the president of the commission “

“I heard about that.” Shouto says. “She’s in Tartarus now, I think.” 

Tartarus, a prison so air-tight, no one’s broken out of it before. There are protests about human rights violations every now and again, but the sheer number of high-risk villains being detained there keeps people quiet about it 90% of the time.

Shouto’s brow is furrowed, his expression difficult to read but projecting unease. “I don’t think we should intern with him.” 

“Yeah.” The easy air of the cafe is gone, it fell away when Hawks came in and saw them, replacing Izuku’s comfort with a growing sense of eyes on the back of his neck. “Do you want to walk around?” Window shopping doesn’t really seem like Shouto’s thing, but it’s better than sitting here any longer. 

Shouto reaches for Izuku’s hand, folding it into his own. Their hands are roughly the same size, but Izuku’s are more blocky while Shouto’s are slender. “Put up your Quirk?”

Izuku does it without thinking, letting Notice Me Not fall over the two of them. The weight on his chest lessens, comfortable in the knowledge no one can see them anymore. At least, not without a camera. Shouto stands up, dragging Izuku up with him before he could lose himself to another anxious spiral over that. Nobody looks up when they leave. The only evidence they’d even been there was the two mugs they returned to the counter.