Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Mommy, my red string’s tied to Kacchan! I’m gonna get married to him!”

Midoriya Inko laughed as she saw the joyful, bright expression of her four year old son, Midoriya Izuku. Seeing her son’s face with a smile that big, she can’t bring herself to tell him the truth.

“Hmm? Is this the same string you said was connected to your dad and I?”

“Yeah, that’s the one!”

A few weeks back, her husband Hisashi returned from one of his many trade routes, although this journey had him traveling north from their home village, close to the Chinese mainland. It’d had been 2 years since Hisashi would have seen his son.

It was during this time that Izuku, after introducing Izuku to Hisashi, the little boy had said something truly puzzling:

“Mommy, you and daddy have a red string tied. . . What does it mean?”

Inko and Hisashi looked at each other in confusion. What red string?

“I’m sorry, honey, what red string?” asked Inko. “Neither your father nor myself has a red string.”

“It’s right there, between you and daddy! Can’t you see?”

“Izuku, there isn’t a red string anywhere, what are you -”

“But it's right there, why can’t you see?”

“Izuku, your father just came home from a long trip, we will talk about this later, but for now, we will welcome you father, alright?”

Izuku frowned. “But. . . ok.”

“Well, do you like Katsuki? Enough to become his husband?” asked Inko

Izuku gave an excited grunt in confirmation. “Yeah! Kacchan is strong, and brave, and cool, and cough cough -”

“Izuku, honey, don’t get too excited, now, or else you’ll get a fever again!”

----------

Izuku decided to tell Kacchan. He told his mom he was going out to play with him, and after hearing a yell of approval, he tightened his yukata and headed out.

No matter what his mom says, he just cannot ignore the red string he saw connecting his mom and his dad.

Izuku has always seen red strings tied to people’s pinkies, but he had never seen them connected to someone else, not before meeting his dad for the first time. “Oh! That must mean that whoever is at the other end of a string, they’re gonna marry,” thought Izuku. After a few times of playing with Kacchan, he realized that his own string was connected to him.

Izuku spotted Kacchan outside of his house, playing samurai against an invisible enemy.

Kacchan was so strong, that he can easily become a samurai, and then after, become a warrior to their own local lord and protect the entire land from bad guys!

However, lately, when Izuku’s cold suddenly turned his life into one of frequent coughs and of less samurai playing, Katsuki attitude toward Izuku turned cold as well.

Where days of holding hands to vanquish the enemies turned into days where it seemed as if Izuku himself was an enemy.

Izuku, you can’t just swing it like that!

Tch, knew you’d get hurt.

Take this flower, just stop crying.

Just climb on my back, already, I’ll take you home.

“Hey, Kacchan! My string connects to you!”

“Huh?! Are you going on about strings again?!” angrily replied Kacchan.

“Yeah! We’re gonna marry!”

Kacchan’s face suddenly distorted into an ugly snarl.

“Look here, I don’t care about your strings, but we are NOT going to marry! Not with you being so weak!”

“But look, my string here is connected to your pinky, and my mommy has a string connected to daddy, so then -”

“So then what? Your strings aren’t real, and even if they were, I’d never marry you!” snarled Katsuki. “You’ll never become a samurai at this rate, seeing strings of all things and being sick, you’re just a Deku!”

That name again.

“I - I’m not a Deku! I’ll get better, just you wait! I’ll become a great samurai just like Toshinori Yagi is!”

“I don’t care, are you up to play the bandit today?”

At the sudden subject change, Izuku took it as it was, a change of atmosphere is just what he needed.

“I’ll make him see that I’m strong! He’s still playing with me, so that’s something!” thought Izuku.

“Okay, I’ll show you! I’m gonna make a great bandit, the baddest bandit ever!”

Unsurprisingly, Izuku was defeated in under a minute, but Izuku is nothing if not perseverent, with his feeling towards Katsuki, and in his dream to be like the great samurai, Yagi Toshinori.

----------

Izuku has deduced that no one can see the red strings that he sees. His mom becomes noticeably worried, more so every passing day. One day he overhears his mom mumble to herself that “It's just a phase of childhood, he’ll grow out it.”

It was enough for him to not talk anymore about red strings.

Out loud, at least.

When Izuku attends the local temple school, he writes his observations in the back of his assigned daily diary. From what he has observed from the villagers, he notes that not everyone marries the other person at the end of the string. Sometimes he sees a floating end of a string, tied to no one, abandoned in the air.

Either dead or unborn notes Izuku.

Izuku looks hard at the character he had just written down.

死. . . Kacchan. . . dead?

----------

“Inko, I have brought a rare plant from China! I have found the cure for Izuku!”

“Hisashi. . . this is the fourteenth time that you have brought a ‘rare’ plant for Izuku,” sighed Inko. Izuku had just turned 12, it was at this stage in his life that Inko felt that Izuku needed a different dream. With his health, he can’t become a samurai. “And don’t yell that so loud, I don’t want to bring up Izuku’s hopes again.”

“Inko, have you not noticed? His will to live is stronger! I will bring as many cures and remedies as I can find, not until he is dead. I will respect that will of his. Please, we just have to follow the instructions on this scroll here. . .”

----------

I have to become a samurai. . . I need to protect Kacchan. . .

“Izuku, your father has returned! He brought another plant, though we’ll have to see about this one. . .”

Izuku’s back is gently lifted from the futon and into his father’s arms. He sees his mother on his opposite side, holding a teacup slightly wafting steam.

“Now, open your mouth, Izuku. . .”

-------

Katsuki gawks as he sees Deku of all people enter the dojo.

“Now, class, we have a new pupil joining us today,” explained the instructor. “Introduce yourself.”

“My name is Midoriya Izuku! I look forward to working with all you!” He smiled, bowing waist height.

The instructor turned to Katsuki. “Seeing as how you’re top of the class, you’ll be showing Midoriya here the practice swings.”

Sharply turning to glare at Deku, he hisses between clenched teeth, “Fine with me.”

Katsuki is relieved to find that Deku flinched at his glare, but after turning away, he meets Katsuki with a straightened back and a glare of his own.

You don’t scare me.

----------

“What are you doing here?” I asked. Why aren’t you laying in bed, sick?

“My dad found a cure for me on one of his routes in China.” Deku replied.

“Didn’t he bring back a so-called cure, what, twenty times?”

“Clearly this plant worked.”

“. . . Don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t want you to, Kacchan.”

----------

Deku is still here.

“Fifty more swings, Deku, lets go! That tree trunk isn’t gonna swing itself!”

“OSU!”

My eyes bulged in astonishment. Deku at this point knew how many swings a kata needs, why didn’t he argue?

“Hey, Deku, you know you’ve already finished your practice swings, why don’t you complain to the sensei?”

I’ve been giving him more practice swings than is required since he came here, the sensei should have noticed, everybody should have noticed, Deku should have put a stop to it, so why?

Deku just looked confused.

“What’s with that look?”

“I know that you’re -huff- giving me more than -huff- you should,” he slowed his pace. “But in the end, I’ll make -huff- a better samurai. Wait, why’re you picking up a tree trunk, too?”

I smirked. Ha, that’s impressive. But not as impressive as I am.

“Well, seeing as you do in fact know what's good for you, and seeing as you make a good point, I wouldn’t want you to get ahead of me now, would I?”

“. . .Kacchan, isn’t that trunk way heavier than mine?”

----------

“IZUKU! Did you bring your lunch? Did you pack your coat? Extra sandals, how about some extra sandals because I know you train a lot -”

“Mom! I’m fine. We’re traveling to the daimyo’s* for just a few days, once we get there, they’ll have the necessities we need,” I explained. I know that my body had filled out, especially compared to before. My training at the dojo had even caught wind to the daimyo!

I smiled thankfully at my mom, wanting, no, needing her to calm down. “You know it’s all thanks to you and dad.”

“IZUKU OH BABYYY!” she sobbed suddenly, tears wetting my front, arms hugging me tightly.

Oh no oh no what do I do now

“Hey, auntie, I’ll take care of Deku, so you don’t have to worry”

I swung my head so fast, WHAT did he just say? Since when did Kacchan come here?

“Oh Katsuki-kun, please do! Oh my, you’ve all grown up!” Thankfully, she had released Izuku to stare up at Katsuki, a towering five inches above Izuku. “Izuku is just so reckless.”

Katsuki looked at Izuku. “Our other dojo mates are waiting for us, we should hurry up.” Katsuki then whispered something into Inko’s ear, staining her ears red, before quickly pulling Izuku to where they needed to join with their dojo mates.

“What, Kacchan what did you say -”

“Now, you come back safe, Izuku!”

“MOM! What did he say?!”

“Shut up, Deku, lets go.”

----------

After becoming acquainted to the other samurai stationed at their daimyo’s estate, Izuku had found his own group of friends, two of which he would easily describe as his best friends: Iida Tenya and Uraraka Ochako. After a mission to relieve a village of a band of bandits, they grew close, as they had shared their own ambitions to each other.

Izuku smiled, seeing as how they were connected by the strings, that those ambitions may cross one way or another. They could protect each other as strong samurai, as well as the harsh world that being a samurai comes with. He wants to do the same for Katsuki.

His relationship with Kacchan can truly be called a friendship. Kacchan spars with him from time to time, and even gives him hints on how he can improve.

Yesterday, Kacchan demonstrated a new swing for me. Kacchan was behind me, encircling those strong arms around me to hold my hands, to hold the bokuto*. . . Izuku felt himself blush. I can’t be blushing when I arrive to spar!

Izuku was currently finished with a debriefing from his higher-up concerning a growing number of rumored insurgents, and was heading down a hall to meet up with Iida and Uraraka for a sparring session.

He was about to turn a corner when he had heard a pair a voices from the surrounding courtyard, one pair sounding like Katsuki. His voice didn’t need much confirmation that it was him, rather it was his red string disappearing from view. What made him creep closer to listen, however, was the unusually soft voice that he was using.

“He’s so quiet. . . I’ve never heard him like that before. Who could he be talking with?” thought Izuku.

Knowing that the crunch of grass beneath his feet could alert the two, he ducked behind the gates lining the hallway and crawled until he found stone steps nearest to the hallway, and creeped as close as he can.

“He never used that voice with me.”

“- inari. . . he’ll never - I’m sorry, can I just - “

“That was Kirishima-kun’s voice! WIth Kirishima-kun, is he -!”

“Just shut up, hair for brains”

The unmistakable sounds of a kiss rung through the still air.

And another kiss.

And another.

And another.

Izuku didn’t attend his spar with Iida and Uraraka that day.

Katsuki and Kirishima, Izuku found out the morning after, were both late to their curfew that night.

----------

Why can I see it?

Why am I the only one who can see it?

If I wasn’t able to see it, would I still like Kacchan? (can I still call it ‘like’ at this point?)

----------

In a diary assigned by a temple school, lies the following notes: not everyone marries the other person at the end of the string.

----------

“Ah,” Izuku thinks, “This is just torture, then.”

He reminisces his childhood. He reminisces the insults. He reminisces Kacchan.

Weak.

Sick.

Deku.

He still calls me that.

Nothing has changed, then.

---------

If I wasn’t able to see it, would I still like Kacchan?

.
.
.

It’s all a trick.

After all, not everyone marries the other person at the end of the string.

----------

Kacch-, no, Bakugo pulls me aside for a talk.

“What the fuck is up with you?”

Nothing, I think. After all, I have finally seen the light. The strings were all a trick, a curse from the gods.

“What do you mean? Am I lagging behind in training?” Izuku has been working on his speed to gain an advantage over his taller fellow samurai the past week. He thought he should be excelling, not seen as lagging.

I need to work harder.

Or is he worried?

“Whenever I try to catch your eye, or whenever I ask you for a spar, you ignore me. Am I weak to you, now?”

Oh.

What is this feeling?

That’s right. Embarrassment.

I’ve had enough of this feeling.

I smile up at Bakugo. “You know how it is when you keep on sparring with one person, you develop habits. I’m just trying to keep on my toes.”

Bakugo scrunches his face, thinking if I told a lie. Eventually, his face returns to his usual scowl and grunts. “Hmph. I guess. So when do you wanna spar, then?”

“When I feel like it, I guess.”

I walked away, heading off to meet “someone very important” as the instructor described.

If I had turned around, I would have seen the strange look come over Bakugo’s face.

----------

“Hey, Deku-kun, what’re you gonna do about that offer from Yagi-sensei? When do you plan on going?” asked Uraraka. Her and Iida were both excited for him, but he can see the sadness in their faces. For a moment, he feels unworthy of their feelings. He puts that feeling in the back of his mind. Far, far back.

“Midoriya-kun, I have heard that Toogata-senpai is accompanying you on your training journey with Yagi-sensei, very impressive indeed! When you come back, I ask that I be your first sparring partner!”

Uraraka-san pouted. “Aw, no fair! Haven’t you heard of ladies first?”

“I am afraid to say that all is fair in love and war.”

“This isn’t war, Iida-kun!”

“Combat is a form of war, wouldn’t you say?”

With that last remark, Uraraka is cowed.

Eager to brighten her expression as her last name calls for, Izuku tells her that she will be his immediate second spar.

“Thanks, Deku-kun.” She smiles up at him. “Don’t think we’re just going to stay here, either! Remember that we all aim to be guards of the shogun*!”

“When you get back, you might have to look for us in Edo, first.”

Izuku smiles. Everyone is working hard to achieve their goals, he’ll have to work as hard as he can. “I hope we can all get there one day.”

“To answer your first question before your fight to fight against me,” he laughs. “I’ll be leaving at the end of the week.”

He stops to think. “Can you guys do me a favor? Please don’t tell anyone I’m leaving, at least not until I’m already gone.”

Iida starts to question him, an arm at the ready to chop through the air, but is stopped by Uraraka. “We understand, we won’t tell anyone.”

-------

Katsuki hasn’t seen Deku in two days.

Four days.

One week.

He isn’t the only one that notices. Katsuki knows he isn’t dead because everyone likes him enough to be bawling about it at this point if he were, so where did he go?

Deku had never asked him for a spar yet.

He (rudely) asks Round Face about it.

“Deku-kun went on a training journey with Yagi-sensei, he won’t be coming back for a while.”

Yagi, as in Yagi Toshinori? That Deku dare not tell him, when Yagi Toshinori was both of their idols?

When they were friends, albeit having a rough childhood?

Uraraka took in Bakugo’s bowed head and his clenched fists. She decides to say nothing, and leaves Bakugo in his silence.

He’s just a Deku after all.

---------

“Midoriya, my boy! I know that you are strong in body, but you soul needs some help!” Toshinori exclaims.

Izuku looks to him in confusion. “My. . . soul?”

“Yes, my boy, your soul! When I saw you training, I remember seeing your soul in every swing that you practiced! Your form is still perfect, however, what happened to the soul that I saw?”

Izuku thinks, but besides his revelation concerning the red strings, he thinks of nothing. Shouldn’t that have helped in training?

Toshinori sighs, seeing as how he won’t be getting anything out of his student in a direct way. He asks another question.

“My boy, why did you decide to become a samurai?”

----------

I have to get to Kacchan.

Through Yagi’s extensive network of friends (spies, assassins, field hands, servants, previous clients), he was able to hear of a planned overthrow of the shogun. Immediately, together with his two students, they set off for Edo.

Please, please be safe.

----------

Chaos was everywhere.

The entrance to the castle walls were caved in. Walls that were first weakened by cannons were forced open by enormous battering rams; logs of huge fallen trees. Flaming arrows set fire to the dead bodies it struck, a scent of burnt flesh and smoke heavy in the air. Some who survived the onslaught of arrows lay beside their dead loved ones, crying, cursing at the samurai and archmen behind the castle walls.

Remember that they are the ones who started the attack, that I am here to defend.

And yet Izuku can’t forget the look of anguish on his enemy’s faces.

Shoving any lingering thoughts away from the forefront of his mind, together with Toogata-senpai and Yagi-sensei he runs through the corpses and into the destroyed entrance. Thankfully, Yagi-sensei’s unique blond hair halts ally archmen from attacking.

This just means that they are safe from any aerial weapons, Izuku realizes, as the insurgents stop their own individual fights to crowd the trio, recognizing his sensei’s trademark bright golden hair.

With battle cries from both sides, Izuku rushes in to fight, drawing his katana and his tanto*. With his trained speed and comparably shorter height, Izuku is a blur.

They’re aiming at my feet, jump here. Behind me to my left, crouch forwards and. . . a sweeping broad swipe! I let my momentum carry me. . . Just before I finished the swing, I saw someone charge at me, aiming to stab clean through my spine. . . Enemies are now closing in at all sides. Escape!

He decides to backflip to escape the onslaught of attacks. Mid-air, he aims his katana downwards into his enemy’s spine, an elegant copy of what was supposed to happen to Izuku himself. Izuku grimaces as flecks of blood spurt into the air and onto his face, a collection steadily growing as the battle rages on.

Once Izuku has deemed it fit that Toogata-senpai and Yagi-sensei could handle the situation without his help, he makes his way to where his friends would be: the corridors surrounding that of the shogun.

As Izuku slashes and slashes through bodies, (so many lives, so many strings) he realizes that the insurgents are getting stronger and stronger each time he clears a corridor. It takes longer and longer to get to the shogun, where his friends are, where Kacch-

“IZUKU!”

In a moment of arrogance, he turns around to face the owner of that voice.

Izuku was indeed fast, but that meant that he was always moving, never stopping.

Izuku didn’t see the katana from a half-dead insurgent stab its way upward through Izuku’s spine, clean through his stomach.

----------

The day of setting out to the daimyo’s estate

“What’s taking Deku so long? We have to leave soon, damn it!”

Since I’m supposedly the one who knew Deku best (the senpais are just being lazy, screw them), I was sent to fetch him. If he was lollygagging around with that notebook of his, I swear. . .

“IZUKU OH BABYYY!”

So it was his mom, huh.

From the looks of it, Deku isn’t leaving his mom’s death grip anytime soon. As usual, tears are flying everywhere and Deku is seems to be getting increasingly flustered.

Hopefully I can calm auntie down. “Hey, auntie, I’ll take care of Deku, so you don’t have to worry.”

I hear a crack through the air. . . was that sound Deku’s neck? Why is Deku looking looking at me like that? I’m not THAT heartless.

“Oh Katsuki-kun, please do! Oh my, you’ve all grown up!” Looking at Deku, ain’t that the truth. “Izuku is just so reckless.”

Well, it's time to go, we’ve wasted enough time. “Our other dojo mates are waiting for us, we should hurry up.” On second thought. . .

I lean down to auntie’s height, into her ear. “I’ll take care of him for you, future mother-in-law.”
Her ears turn to a bright red. If I don’t want Deku’s questions, we should get going.

“What, Kacchan what did you say -”

“Now, you come back safe, Izuku!”

“MOM! What did he say?!”

“Shut up, Deku, lets go.” Both of us will be just fine.

.
.
.

In a valley housing a tribe in isolation:

“Kacchan, my string is tied to you! We can be village chiefs together!”

“What?! Your string nonsense again?” Katsuki huffed at Deku. “They’re not real, and I’m not marrying a weakling like you!”

.
.
.

In a village south of the Kingdom of Yuuei:

“Deku, you can’t be a knight! You’re the lowest in the class for combat, what are you thinking?!”

“I’ll just try harder, Kacchan! All Might said that anyone can become a knight!”
.
.
.

In a dance studio owned by U.A. Productions:

“Deku, your moves need to be sharper, go through the steps like this!”

“I’ll try again, Kacchan!”

“Do a run through 20 more times! Start the music!”

.
.
.

In the FBI Training Academy in Quantico, Virginia:

“Tomorrow's the day we finally become special agents, huh, Kacchan? Luckily we’re both heading to the New York office!”

“Yeah, we’ll have to be careful. You have to be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting there. Your teamwork, skills, however…”

“Hmph. There’s only you, nerd.”

“Of course, we’re partners, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. . . Partners. . .”

.
.
.

In the backstage area of the Plus Ultra: Spring Collection Fashion Show:

“Where is Kacchan off to? We’re leaving for the after party in 10 minutes. . . At this rate, they’ll be skipping out. . .”

“Just for these types of situations, it good that I can see the red stri-”

“Ah, Katsuki~”

Was that Kirishima-kun’s voice?

“Ugh, Eijirou. . .”

“He’ll never-, Katsuki he’s strai-”

“Shhhh. . .”

Izuku turned around, and decided to skip the after party as well.

.
.
.

Deep under the sea, in the kingdom of Poseidon:

“Hey, round cheeks, where did Deku swim off to? I haven’t seen him since the summer festival.”

“Deku-kun went off on a training journey with General All Might, they were going to the south seas to train.”

Without telling me? Why would he. . .

Uraraka left Bakugo to his silence.

.
.
.

Hoenn, Route 128, Seafloor Cavern:

Where was Kacchan?

“Manectric, use Thunderbolt!”

There were too many Team Aqua grunts, too many at once.

“Skarmory, use Spikes! Keep them from coming any further!”

I need to go deeper in the cave, I need to go where Archie is.

“Gardevoir! Use Lightscreen!”

Too many pokemon all at once to handle. To many attacks to deal with. Half of Izuku’s team were either confused or running low on PP. Izuku himself has had to dodge attacks where his Pokemon couldn’t defend.

Just where is Kacchan?

“IZUKU!”

Izuku turns around. He finds Kacchan at the very back of the crowd of grunts and Pokemon. Kacchan!

One of many Golbats’ Air Cutter slices through the air, passing through a Lightscreen that has finally died.

And slices Izuku’s body in half.

.
.
.

In a hospital in the Musutafu area:

A shock of green and black hair is what greets Midoriya Inko after what seems to be hours of intense labor.

“He’s so beautiful.” A sharp cry from the newborn rings through the hair. Inko smiles tiredly. “He’s so healthy, too.”

A nurse brings the baby to (after a quick look) his mother’s waiting arms. Inko’s husband, Hisashi, comes and gives a one armed hug to his beautiful wife. “He’s so cute, Inko, just like my wife.”

Inko at this point can’t hold back her tears of happiness. “Hisashi. . . Say hello to Izuku.”

Chapter Text

“It seems as if little Izuku here is mentally sound! I wouldn’t worry about his talks of red strings, Mrs. Midoriya. It’s a phase, just like you have guessed.”

Ever since his mom brought him to a psychiatrist, Izuku has never brought up the subject of red strings up again. On top of being quirkless, he didn’t want to be seen as crazy, either. No, his mom deserves better.

Izuku, I’m sorry. . . Your mom is so sorry, Izuku. . .!

Izuku had thought about the ability to see the red strings as a quirk, and thus told his mom so. Like him, Inko’s face lit up, only to once again darken after visiting the local children’s clinic.

Mrs. Midoriya, you may want to schedule a visit to a child psychiatrist. Here, let me write down a few reputable offices. . .

He knows that what he sees isn’t a mental disorder, as his own red string can physically affect him. Once, in an experiment to assure himself of his mental stability, he had looped the red string onto his index finger, waiting to see the tip turn purple.

It turned purple.

Nevertheless, Izuku decided to not talk about it out loud. Instead, he writes it down into notebooks, just like with his quirk analysis notes. His notes concerning the red strings aren’t as comprehensive, however, as they were better described as observations.

“If only there were more diversity to red strings! They are all the same shade of red, the knots look exactly the same, not one string looks dirty, wrinkled, or old, quirks are just so much easier to make inferences on. . .” Izuku flipped through his notebook. He had seen nothing new concerning red strings from the entrance ceremony, and he was unsatisfied. Maybe there was a small note somewhere in here that could lead him to make a new observation. . . Finding none, he sighed.

It was currently the spring of a new school year, and Izuku was sitting at a desk in his new homeroom. His new middle school, Aldera Middle School, welcomed students from four elementary schools in total, giving Izuku many new, unfamiliar faces. With all the unfamiliarity Izuku had hoped for observing red string irregularities, but unfortunately (or fortunately for the string possessors) he has found zip. Nada. Zilch.

He looks up from his notebook to look around his new middle school classroom. No Kacchan yet, thank God. Thankfully there were only two faces he could recognize from his elementary school, and he feels excited. There should be less people this time around to harass him.

Class was to start in about 15 minutes, so Izuku decided to do another reread of his notebook, labeled Red Strings: What Are They? to pass the time. Izuku had managed to fill out about half of his notebook.

If he were to list what the more obvious facts were, it’d be the following:

The strings never seemed to tangle.

The strings had no substance, they can pass through anything.

The strings are tied onto a person’s pinky.

The strings can only be one color: red.

The strings are, according to legend, tied to two soulmates.

No one can see or touch them, except for Izuku.

That last fact has always managed a mix of emotions from Izuku. Should he feel honored? Honored to know that he is able to see people’s soulmates? Should he feel disgusted with the fact that he knows a complete stranger’s more personal parts of themselves? He knows he’s happy seeing the string tying his parents together. He doesn’t know what to feel when his next door neighbor Mr. Nakamura divorced his wife when he was in the second grade. He doesn’t know what to feel when Mr. Nakamura left their shared apartment complex with another woman. Although compared to his wife, this woman’s red string connected to Mr. Nakamura.

“HEY, DEKU! Why are you in my class again?!”

Should he be happy knowing who he’s fated to be with? Or should he be sad?

Izuku snapped his head up to look at Kacchan. He immediately looked down after seeing the expression on the blond. His pale blond eyebrows were drawn to a point, narrowing his intense red eyes, his mouth downturned into a harsh snarl. Unfortunately this was not a rare occurrence for Izuku. Why did it have to be you?

“H-hey, Kacchan! Well, you know that it isn't up to me to decide that, so-?

“You think I don’t know that?!” He grunted irritably. “Stay quiet, quirkless, or else!”

Izuku gulped, no matter how many times he’s faced against Kacchan, it’s always hard to fight back. “Yeah I know, Kacchan, I’ll keep quiet.” I’m normally quiet anyways…

Izuku internally deflates, knowing that this outburst has already cemented his status at the bottom of the school hierarchy. He hears whispers of concerning his lack of quirk: Eeh? That boy’s quirkless? How sad, he’ll never be a hero. I heard that he wants to be a hero! How stupid is that?! He should just give up! Don’t you think that’s kinda, y’know, delusional?

Izuku tries his best to ignore them, though. He’ll show them all. He’ll show Kacchan.

----------

“Midoriya-kun, can you come over here, please?” His homeroom teacher was a man with pale beige hair and a receding hairline, who looked to be in his mid-forties. His teacher called him over with a bored lilt in his voice, looking as if he couldn’t care less whether the task he wanted Izuku to do was done or not. Why he was even a teacher to begin with?

Always the one eager to help, Izuku stood up from his desk and walked over to his teacher. “Yes, sensei?”

His teacher gave him a once-over. Why is it that the teachers always gave him once-overs?”I need you to deliver this stack of papers to the science teacher, just ask for Kamanabu-sensei in the teacher’s office.” Izuku looked at the large stack of papers on the desk. Just what are those papers to have so many of them, he wondered, and how many trips will he need to make? To ensure the safety of those papers, he would have to make at least three separate trips, as he wasn’t quite sure if his (admittedly) weak arms could handle the strain of a stack of papers that will reach chest height when carrying it through the twists and turns of stairs and hallways.

“You can find the office on the second floor of the administration building,” his teacher continued. “Make it quick, your next class starts in 20 minutes.”

“Y-yes, sensei!” Izuku took a third of the stack into his arms, shifting and adjusting the weight, before finally walking towards the door. That’s right, I’ll have to open the door. . .”

Izuku repositioned his arm under the stack of papers to free one hand to slide the door open, papers precariously balanced, when the doors slid open with a slam.

“Ayumi, here, you won’t just believe what -” Crash. The fluttering of papers. A phone fell to the ground.

“Who the hell is blocking the door-”

“Rin, are you okay?!”

Izuku blinked from his position on the floor. What had just happened?

“Midoriya-kun, don’t just sit there, pick up the papers!” A yell from his teacher. The papers. . . why were they on the floor? Why was he on the floor?

“Ugh, its quirkless’s fault! Why were you standing in front of the door?!” The girl, whose name through the haze in his head he inferred was Rin, glared through her neatly styled bangs while picking herself up from the floor. “If my phone broke, you’re paying for it!”

Izuku took in the scene before him, face rapidly coloring red in embarrassment and shame. He stood up and bowed to Rin, also rapidly, in apology.

“Ohmygosh, I’m so so so sorry, I didn’t mean to stay at the door like that, I was trying to open it myself you see and with this stack of papers in hand, well, they’re not in my hands anymore, but it took me a while to balance it so me standing at the door was my fault, but I didn’t mean to crash into you! I hope your phone okay, if I broke it I’ll pay back for it somehow, oh no I should’ve asked if you yourself are alright! How could I forget, but I’ll ask it now! Are you alright?”

Rin looked at the boy in front of her, talking and mumbling at some parts of his spiel, and decided to forgive him, if only to move on. She looked up to the ceiling in exasperation.

“Alright, I forgive you. Better hurry with picking up all those papers, though.”

Izuku nervously smiled. He was forgiven! He looked to her friend, Ayumi, and deduced from the absence of a frown or knitted brows that she wasn’t mad at him, either.

“Sorry, again, for crashing into you.” He bowed again.

And with that, the two girls walked to their desks. Now onto the task of picking up all these papers, he internally grumbled.

As he was picking up papers, his noticed for the first time that the class’s usual noisy atmosphere of friends talking and conversing has devolved into one of whispers.

What a spaz, he can’t even open a door.

And the kid wants to be a hero? Pft.

Hey, what was the name that Bakugo kid called him?

Wasn’t it Deku?

What’s that supposed to mean? What’s a Deku?

Someone from the same elementary school as him told me that it’s supposed to mean useless!

Useless Deku? Fitting for a quirkless kid.

Is this what it means to be quirkless? Good thing I have a quirk.

Don’t you think this treatment is a bit harsh?

Izuku kept his head down, reigning in tears of frustration. Tears of embarrassment. Tears of shame. Was being different so bad? All he wanted was a shot at being a hero, just like everyone else.

“Midoriya-kun, pick up the pace. Class’ll start in 15 minutes.”

He picked up the last of the fallen papers, grateful that at least the doors were now open.

------------

“all might debut vid,” Izuku typed.

giant man rescue people in seconds!

smiling blond hero save dozens in unfortunate accident!

New Hero on the Scene: Just Who is All Might?

Izuku clicked the first search result, an action that he can easily call a muscle reflex from the number of times he has practiced the motion. As soon as the video is loaded, a shaky camera is aimed towards a hulking figure, face shadowed from a raging fire behind him, silhouettes of at least six people on his back.

“AAAAAHAHAHA!” A voice as loud as it is uplifting resounds through Izuku’s earbuds. Here it comes! His famous line!

Izuku’s voice, excitement oozing, a smile showing a full display of his teeth, is timed to perfection with the man on screen:

”Everything is fine! Why? Because I am here!”

A visible shudder runs down his spine, a feeling of inspiration and excitement that never fails to lift his spirits, so much so that the reprimanding shhhh! of a nearby student is paid no mind. All Might was just so cool!

After the paper incident, as Izuku has aptly named it, he was on the verge of tears throughout the next lesson, unable to take notes as much as he would have liked. When the lesson concluded, he had the barest recollection of what he was to learn. Something about the effects of guns when quirks first emerged. He wasn’t quite sure. To endure the rest of the day, Izuku had immediately run to the library, planning on staying inside for the entirety of the lunch break period. All Might was just what he had needed.

Coming down from the adrenaline high, he tiredly sighed. And it's only the second week. . .

---------

Izuku is able to pay attention much better when it is time for his class after lunch, Japanese Language Arts. It’s a subject he feels neutral about, as he doesn’t feel much like nor dislike for writing. If anything, he can appreciate its usefulness.

When Izuku had walked back into his classroom, he had prepared for the inevitable whispering to start up again, and was reminding himself to be strong, at least mentally, like All Might.

And was pleasantly surprised that the class had only quieted at his entrance. No whispers of Deku or of his quirklessness.

His teacher, Ms. Shiwa, was a woman that looked the phrase “short and stout” to a tee. She, like other teachers, dressed in casual professional clothes. What distinguishes her from other teachers, Izuku thinks, is that her hair ties are colored and designed to completely mismatch her outfit. Today, her hair tie consisted of bright orange and neon green frills with her beige cardigan and skirt. In the past few classes that Izuku has had her, she never wore her hair down, always preferring to style it up one way or another.

“Today we’ll be reviewing over what makes a story. I don’t want any sassy remarks such as ‘words!’ or ‘grammar!’, am I clear?”

The class gave no verbal or physical reply, but they obediently named the different parts in no particular order, the teacher writing down the vocabulary as fast as students rapidly shouting answers can. When the answers died down, the teacher appeared to be satisfied.

“Since you guys know oh-so-well on what makes a story, you guys are now going to write one!” The teacher exclaimed this with a flourish of hands, gesturing grandly at the vocab.

Silence. Then pandemonium.

“WHAT?!”

“A whole fucking story? Hell no!”

“Who just swore?! Get up here!”

“I don’t think anything I write is rated for middle schoolers.”

“I’m not working towards a master’s in writing, what is this?!”

“Does fanfiction count?”

As much as Izuku does not want to write an entire story, he thinks the whole class is overreacting. An entire story, though, what was his teacher thinking? Unless fanfiction is approved, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to write anything good. The only thing I have enough passion to write a whole story about is fanfiction of All Might and of heroes in general. . .

“Alright, enough is enough! The next person who complains, especially if you fucking swear I’m gonna give you zeros!”

The class turns silent at that.

Looking satisfied, Ms. Shiwa held up a medium sized cardboard box, with a small hole at cut out on top. “I know that mere middle schoolers like yourselves can never write an entire story, which is why I am having you write a mini story instead.” She shook the box. “And because I’m extra nice, you’re being assigned partners!”

The class, this time Izuku included, opened their mouths to complain, only to close at remembering Ms. Shiwa’s previous threat.

”Oh no,” Izuku thought. He brought his head to down to pillow into his arms

”The red string always finds a way to put us together.”

--------

“You’re not coming to my house, and I’m not coming to yours, got it?!”

“Agreed.”

“You insinuating something, Deku?”

“Uhhh, so, to make up for lost time, we’re gonna meet up everyday after school in the library, right?”

Katsuki grunted in confirmation. “I’m not gonna get a bad grade because you of all people are my partner, and I want this to be over as soon as possible.” They had finally arrived at the library. “So we gotta hurry it up! We only have two weeks!”

Opting to keep Katsuki as quiet as possible, Izuku said nothing. He followed Katsuki towards the study section of the library, settling into an empty table.

He sat down next to Katsuki.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Katsuki whisper-shouted. He looked affronted. “Sit across from me!”

“But Kacchan, like this we can keep quiet!” He motioned to the opposite chair of Katsuki. “If I sit there, we’ll have more trouble talking!”

Katsuki looked ready to argue back. Izuku really didn’t want to get kicked out of the library. Where else would they do this project? He hurried to come up with an excuse. “Like this, we’ll finish faster!”

Katsuki paused, looked to be incredibly angry for half a second, constipated for the next second, then finally acquiesced. “Fine. But we’re doing what story I want in exchange.”

Izuku doesn’t know if he can write murdering villains with explosions as well as Katsuki wants him to. “But Kacchan, if it’s not something we both agree on, I might not write it out good enough!”

Katsuki looked ready to act out the murdering Izuku had assumed he wanted to write about. “Then you take a step back and let me do most of the work,” he snapped out.

No. No way. If he wanted to be a hero, then he would have to work for a grade, not have someone else do the work for him. I literally just watched All Might. I’ll do this the way All Might would.

“No,” Izuku voiced. “You know that unlike our other teachers, Ms. Shiwa is strict. If she reads you writing more than me, she’ll bring down both our grades, you know that.” If this didn’t win Katsuki over, well, he’ll at least go down fighting.

Katsuki opened his mouth, taking in more and more air. Izuku covered his ears. He knows that Kacchan won’t be the only person screaming at him. He turned his head towards the front of the library, expecting the the librarian to kick them out any second from now.

Izuku waited.

And waited. Katsuki seemed to be holding in his breath.

When all that came out of him was a long, exaggerated sigh, Izuku couldn’t believe it. Could he be, dare he say it, cooperating?!

Katsuki looked at Izuku from under his spiky, blond bangs. “Fuck you, Deku.” Izuku blinked at the insult.

“Well?! Suggest something to write about!” Izuku eeped.

“YES! Well, um, we both like All Might, so maybe, uh, um. Maybe we can write a mini story about him? It can even have the explosions that you want!” Izuku scooted further from Katsuki in his seat.

A pause. “Fine. I’m fine with that.” He shot a glare at Izuku. “But don’t think you’re in control! I’m coming up with the plot, got it?”

Izuku was tempted to salute Katsuki just from the strength of that glare alone. “Yes!” Izuku looked down at the string tied to Katsuki’s pinky, and smiled. Maybe there’s hope for us after all.

Even if it's just as friends.

----------

Izuku is put in charge of All Might’s characterization. Since he’s a “giant All Might fanboy” as Kacchan put it, he’s in charge of All Might’s dialogue, reactions, build-up; anything that involves All Might not fighting. Kacchan declared himself in charge of all fast paced and action scenes. Everything else, setting, introduction, etc. were up to the two of them suggesting ideas and either agreeing or having to come up with another suggestion.

They had agreed to write about All Might in a simple search-and-rescue mission. Their villain, codenamed The Inventor, uses robots to rampage the city, holding a pregnant woman hostage when cornered. It was up to All Might to rescue the woman.

Izuku was currently drafting a scene where All Might is patrolling the city, while Kacchan drafted The Inventor’s plan to wreck the city.

Izuku paused, finding that his back ached a bit from leaning forward too long. He stretched, arms straightening out above his head. After hearing the satisfying crack, Izuku resolved to take a small break.

He relaxed against his chair, turned towards the ceiling, and closed his eyes.

Izuku, I’m sorry. . . Your mom is so sorry, Izuku. . .!

After the paper incident, his mom’s voice had rung in his head clearer than any whispered insult. Izuku realistically knew that it was near impossible to become a hero without a quirk, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself from believing that one day he might become one.

Izuku remembers the figure of All Might amongst the fire and wreckage. He remembers the people clinging for life on his back, remembers how many people he’s saved. I’ve always wanted to bring that feeling of hope like All Might does.

He had the drive, at the very least. He studied quirks and techniques associated with said quirk. Izuku figured that one day he might need them. If he were to find himself one-on-one with a villain, he could use those techniques to save civilians and himself.

Izuku remembers Kacchan, fighting back against bullies that towered over his once smaller height. He remembers feeling dread, worried for what was to come to Kacchan. He remembers watching Kacchan single-handedly defeating those bullies.

Izuku looks to side, and is greeted with a face scrunched in intense concentration.

I want to have his drive to win.

Izuku blinked. Win? Just like Kacchan had with the bullies from way back then?

I can’t fight for shit.

“Deku.”

Izuku jumped. “Y-yes!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. Deku was always so jumpy. “Relax. I’m not gonna start anything in the library.” Truthfully, Katsuki thought to himself, coming in here he absolutely thought he was going to yell at Deku. He gathered his papers into his bag.

“We should stop for today and come back here same time tomorrow. I’m gonna relax at the arcade.” He stood up, and looked at Izuku over his shoulder. “And don’t follow me.” With that, he stalked out of the library, surly stance exuding from his form with every step.

For the first time in a long time, Kacchan’s back seemed farther away than it usually was.

----------

“As of recently, there has been a surge of villain attacks, most of which take place in the eastern part of the Naruhata neighborhood. The attacks, as seen in most quirk-related crime, involves quirk users relating to super-strength. Further more, our sources report that a drug may be the cause of the surgence in crime, which would match in witness reports of villains suddenly growing in size. Civilians are advised to take extreme caution, even further cautioning to set an early cur-”

Izuku turned off the T.V. He knew where he was going hero watching next.

----------

Izuku exited out of the train doors, and headed towards the station’s exit, looking for a map along the way.

It was currently Sunday, a bright day with a cloudless sky. These days, the weather was progressively becoming more hot, but today had a breeze, perfect for today’s activities. Izuku had been waiting for this day since he had saw the news report.

If his mom didn’t have the money to enroll him in a martial arts class (she had just paid their bills), Izuku figured this was the next best thing.

“I feel like today is going to be a good day,” he thought out loud.

According to the news report, the villains in the East Naruhata area were stronger than your average purse-snatching villain. If that were true, then Izuku could see heroes bust out more complicated moves and techniques, perfect for his notebook!

He was shaking with pent up excitement as he scanned the map he managed to spot. He knows that there wasn’t any guarantee that he would see any fights today, but since his revelation regarding his dream to be a hero, he couldn’t help but want to get a move on.

Izuku walked away from the map, having found the directions he needed. From the station’s exit, he was to turn right, then turn on this street, walk over there. . .

When he managed to get in the area, he started wandering around. He came across a park, a convenience store, and a grocery store. Izuku knew there was boredom in searching out hero/villain fights, and was thus pleasantly surprised that just after 30 minutes of wandering he heard the sound of cheers. “A fight? Wow, I’m so lucky, especially this early on!”

Izuku walked towards the cheers with a readied pencil and notebook in hand. In his pocket he had set his phone to alarm him for updates on hero/villain fights in the area. He was prepared!

What he was not prepared for was a girl in a skimpy outfit to be jumping high in the air, assumedly her quirk, singing in what Izuku personally thought to be an average voice.

“What’s with this large crowd?!” Izuku looked closer at the mass comprised mostly of men. Some were wearing uniforms, in what Izuku assumed to be supportive merchandise for the singer. Some wore business suits, some wore casual wear, and some wore punk rock clothes. “Wow, she’s managed to attract all kinds of people. . .“

“Pop, shine ★, step!” As she sang, she performed jumps off of buildings, ricocheted off lamp posts; overall, she was very flashy. Not only her performance, but her outfit as well. She wore a black leotard that had openings on her chest and hips, with mini black wings on her lower to mid back. She wore black nylon boots that came up above her knees, a black mask over her eyes yet not covering her eyes, as well as styling her hair up in two high pigtails.

The crowd cheered at the performance. “POP STEP, POP STEP!” So her name was Pop Step. Since she was using her quirk in a public space, he was anticipating the sound of police sirens.

“A quirk in action! How could I forget!” Izuku momentarily forgot the illegality of the situation and started to take notes. She could jump very high, maybe 10 meters, but it looks as if she can jump higher. Since it’s a jumping quirk, she’ll need a stable foothold, so it won’t be as effective in rainy weather. Ah, but her ability to jump high may be something else, maybe she just very light?

“Seems I have to go earlier than expected, folks! Remember to visit my website to know where I’m going next!” Izuku snapped out of his trance and registered the sound of sirens. So Pop Step knew that this was illegal. . .

“Thank you, and have a great day!” She disappeared from view, jumping and leaping away from the police.

Even if she wasn’t a hero or a villain, I still got good data!

----------

I can’t believe that was all the data I managed I get.

It was late afternoon, the sun lighting the sky in oranges and pinks. Izuku sighed, knowing that he was fortunate enough to get what he did, and began making his way to the train station. His mom would soon text him asking where her was.

After meeting the street idol Pop Step, Izuku wasn’t able to witness anything else even slightly quirk related. He was hopeful, though, which ended in him staying later than planned, and in a more deserted part of the neighborhood.

With the setting sun, the buildings around him cast dark, looming shadows. As he passed shadowed alleyways, Izuku was starting to feel fear creep in. He picked up his pace.

Izuku was starting to feel paranoid. His eyes were darting at every side-street and alley entranceway he passed, careful to not let anything or anyone escape his notice.

A whimper.

He stopped.

Another whimper. Then, a pained meow.

Izuku slumped, resting a hand on his chest. It’s just a cat, thank god.

He backtracked, silently walking backwards to catch the noise. Another whimper. Izuku, walked closer to the alleyway he thought he heard it from, waiting in confirmation.

A pained meow this time. Taking that as confirmation, he ran down the alley way, opening his flashlight app on his phone to locate the cat. He spotted a beige and white striped tail behind a couple of trash bags. The tail stiffened after hearing Izuku’s approach.

Izuku knelt down. He made sure he kept a safe distance from the cat, not wanting to scare it away or injure himself. “I’m here to help, don’t be afraid,” he comforted. He held out his hand as a peace offering and waited for the cat to un-tense itself.

Izuku knew he should be getting home, it was steadily getting darker, and to top it off he was in a dark alleyway. He wanted to help this cat, though, and resolved to immediately run out of the alleyway and straight to a shelter he passed earlier today.

FOR I AM HERE! FOR I AM HERE! FOR I-

Shit, my phone!

He scrambled to put his phone on silent, but it was too late. A yowl and the sound of paws tapping rapidly against concrete later he was alone.

“The cat!”

Well, nothing that Izuku could do about it, the cat was gone. He had waited for a couple of minutes to calm the cat down, and mourned the time wasted. He opened his phone.

“Nice timing, mom.” His mom had sent him a worried text, asking when he was getting home and to get home soon.

Izuku stood up, and turned towards the alley entrance.

CRUNCH

And was promptly lifted into the air by a choking grip on his neck.

----------

“Spotted the villain jumping down into an alleyway! He might be escaping by ground!”

“Keep following him!” Pop Step pumped more strength to her legs. She wasn’t about to let the damn druggie outpace her of all people.

“What’s your current location?” Pop Step looked around. She tapped her in-ear communication device again.

“I’m at the alleyways lining Miwara Street!” Pop Step leaped over and over again, jumping and leaping until she reached where the villain dropped down, and tried to make out the figures in the dark alleyway.

The old man, Kouichi, and herself were on their nightly patrol in the eastern Naruhata neighborhood, when passing by a low-rise apartment a man with antlers on his head crashed open the doors to his apartment, muscles ripping and bulging through his business suit, and bounded off towards the shopping district.

Kouichi and herself had managed to bait and lead deer-dude to a more isolated area to prevent civilian casualty, when his muscles grew even more, and bounded off on top of buildings. Apparently there were still people here.

“Shit, that’s not good.” She tapped her device again, this time frantic. “Uhhhh, old man? Kouichi? You might want to hurry it up! He’s choking a kid!”

Loud swearing echoed into her ear. “We’re almost there! Stall for us a bit!” The old geezer was panting in exertion now, he must really be panicking now. She looked down again, ready to land a jump on the villain’s head. . .

“DAMN VILLAIN!”

Knuckleduster landed on a trash pile and socked deer-dude in the chin, a devastating uppercut. The villain let go of the kid, before charging towards the old man. Deer-dude let out a screech of its own. “AAaaUUUggHHHH!!”

“If you were right there, you could’ve told me, I nearly peed my panties! Why is your voice so damn loud?!”

She then spotted Kouichi blocking off the alley entrance. She resolved to stay on standby on the roof, just in case deer-dude escaped again.

----------

cough cough cough

Izuku hacked and coughed while clutching his bruised neck. How am I not dead? He remembered being held in the air by a mutant deer wrestler for what feels like a good minute, he even had the edges of his vision blacken, closing in on unconsciousness.

He looked up from his dropped position. Another large man was standing in front of him. Another villain? Though this man was facing his back to him in what seemed to Izuku a fighting stance.

“AAaaUUUggHHHH!!”

Izuku shrunk in on himself. There was nowhere to run! If the man in front of him was protecting him, he had to be a hero!

The deer wrestler charged the Izuku’s protector. To Izuku’s amazement and surprise, instead of meeting him with his own fist, the large man ducked under the oncoming punch in a speed that Izuku thought the man shouldn’t possess. Following the dodge, he surged up, his whole body shaking and radiating power, and delivered an uppercut to the villain’s chin.

“So. . . so cool. . !” Despite being frightened to the point of nearly pissing his pants he couldn’t help but voice his astonishment.

The villain stumbled, no doubt that his brain was rocketing around his skull. It wasn’t enough, apparently, as the villain once again charged at the large man with incredible speed, antlers aiming to pierce. Animal quirks were something to be feared, Izuku thought.

Izuku watched as the large man squatted, watched muscles tense through fabric as the man grabbed the antlers, pivoted his foot, lifted the villain via antlers. . .

HOLY SH-

. . .and smashed his body into the side of the building. All in the span of a few seconds.

The large man walked over to inspect the still body of the villain. After a few moments, he turned around to face Izuku. Izuku readied himself, eager to hear inspiring words only a hero could give to him and him only. “What the hell are you doing here, kid?”

Well. That wasn’t what he expected.

“We-well, Mr. Hero, I was just heading back home once I took care of a cat, but it ran away, so I’m so so sorry if I interrupted your investigation-”

“I’m not a hero.”

“What? You’re not? But someone with a strength quirk like yours can only be a hero, and plus, you defeated this villain!” Izuku exclaimed. However, now that the man had turned around, Izuku was able to observe him more closely. His costume didn’t look heroic at all. He wore a black bandana as a makeshift mask and wore a simple black t-shirt with gray pants. Izuku also spotted a pair of brass knuckles.

“Old man, the guy’s finished, right? I called the police to take care of him. We should get out of here fast. Oh right, is the kid okay?” A voice out of nowhere spoke behind Izuku. Looking behind him for the source. Wasn’t. . . wasn’t she Pop Step?! What’s she doing here?

“As always, your pure strength is amazing. That finishing move was so cool!” Izuku heard another voice speaking, this time male. He looked behind the large man and found a younger man sporting an (isn’t that the limited edition) All Might hoodie.

“Another day in the life, Crawler.” Another hero? Izuku hasn’t heard of the name Crawler before. . .

“Kid, we aren’t heroes, we’re vigilantes.”

Izuku’s eyes bulged. They still existed? There were heroes now, this wasn’t like the old times when quirks were still new. “V-vigilantes?!” Izuku screeched.

“B-but, Pop Step, you’re a singer! You’re a vigilante, too?!”

“I can be both, can’t I?” She leaned down. Boob, boobs, boobs. “Is your neck okay?”

Oh right, his neck. He was just being choked to death a few moments ago. “Uhh, it doesn’t feel broken? I mean, it just feels badly bruised.”

The large man spoke up. “The cops are coming soon, they can take care of him, for now we have to make a getaway.” When was Izuku going to get his name?

Izuku spoke up. “Umm, even if you aren’t heroes, thank you for saving my life!” Izuku bowed 90 degrees. “Your quirks are very strong! You guys would make good heroes! Can I also ask for your name?”

The large man blinked. Was it Izuku’s imagination, or did he look a bit embarrassed? “The name’s Knuckleduster. And I don’t have a quirk, that was all muscle, squirt.”

Izuku now felt even more faint. Then, Izuku himself can. . .

“Old man, we have to leave, NOW! The cops are gonna be here any second now!”

“Right, right. Well, don’t wander around these parts anymore, kid!” The group of vigilantes turned around, already starting to run or jump away.

Izuku had so much to ask, he struggled to get it out. “Wait, please wait! I have to-”

And with that, they left to the sound of sirens.

----------

Izuku head was spinning. It was now Monday morning, and he was on his way to school. The events of last night were still crystal clear in his mind’s eyes, and with it a mix of feelings and questions he had not had the time to comprehend.

When the police had arrived, Izuku’s hand was outstretched in the direction the vigilantes left in. He was rushed into an ambulance and had paramedics assess his bruised neck, rubbing an ointment of sorts before wrapping it in bandages. They had thankfully spoken to him in calm and gentle voices.

He was then brought to the police station for questioning. They had called his mom to pick him up, as well as needing a guardian as Izuku was couldn’t answer any question since he was a minor. He remembered his mother’s worried, tear streaked face, rushing towards him in a hug. He found himself rushing forward as well.

“Mom. I’m fine, please don’t cry!”

“Izuku, my baby, I was so worried!”

When the two of them had calmed down, Izuku was asked questions about the villain that he easily answered. When they had asked him who had defeated the villain, he lied, saying he didn’t remember their faces as he was in shock. He figured it was the least he could do as thanks to the vigilantes.

Izuku finally arrived at the school gates. Unfortunately, his gakuran’s collar didn’t cover all of his neck, white bandages peeking above and between his collar. Hopefully everyone would ignore him today as well and pester him with question, Izuku thought.

He arrived at his classroom and sat down in his seat. So far so good. Homeroom was to start in a few more minutes, so Izuku busied himself with his phone planning on searching hero news. Specifically for news of last night.

“Deer villain sunday night,” Izuku typed.

Another villain in Naruhata, mysteriously defeated by vigilantes!

Villain in Naruhata area apprehended last Sunday night, victim said to be young student

Villain with overpowered deer quirk in custody for questioning

He clicked the second link. It sounded like it had the most information and little bias.

The article loaded to a picture of smaller man than what Izuku had remembered to be the deer villain exiting a police car into the police station. Below the picture lied a description of his appearance. Izuku had hoped to find a name, but seeing as there was none, he moved on to the actual article.

“Deer quirk. . . charged for attempted murder. . . case similar to other villain attacks. . . why Naruhata. . . young student said to be victim. . . no heroes involved in defeat of villain. . . possible vigilante activity. . .” There was nothing new that Izuku hadn’t already figured out or already knew. Hearing the sound of the school bell, he disappointedly put his phone away.

His homeroom teacher walked in and boredly moved on to attendance. His eyes looked up from the attendance book every couple of names.

“Ishida?”

“Here!”

“Kashima?”

“Here.”

“Midoriya?” His teacher looked up.

“Here!”

“Mizu- wait, Midoriya, are those bandages on your neck?” Why did you have to look up at my name. . .

“Midoriya has bandages on his neck?”

“Oh my god, that means he got choked!”

“Who gets choked hard enough to need bandages?”

The murmurs were gradually increasing in volume, even the teacher just looked at Izuku in a mixture of worry and fascination. If the paper incident was any indication, I’m not getting any help from him, thought Izuku.

“I wasn’t choked, it was nothing like that,” he lied. “It was just that a small child’s quirk got a little out of control and I was at the wrong place at the wrong time.” He smiled for added effect.

Apparently it was a good enough excuse as the murmurs died down and his teacher continued with attendance.

“Alright, now that that’s out of the way, Mizuhara!”

“Here!”

As the names continued Izuku turned his eyes towards the owners of the various names being called out of habit, and felt a pair of eyes on him. Looking slightly to his left, his own eyes locked on a pair of angry red eyes.

A shiver rocketed through his spine. What’d he do this time? Izuku continued locking eyes with Katsuki out of confusion.

With a ‘tch’, Katsuki turned back around.

Huh.

----------

“Let’s go to my house today to do the project.”

Even though Izuku felt happy at the prospect of being invited to Katsuki’s house after so long, he knew that with that statement they weren’t going to anything regarding the project.

He thought about his response. Should I tell him now what had really happened to my neck? Ah, but he might get mad and attract attention. Should I tell him in a more private place, but at school? That way they could go to the library right after. But Kacchan might want to look under the bandage, and I don’t think I can re-bandage myself correctly without a mirror. Wait, we can go to the bathroom. Ugh, there’s a chance I could get caught and Kacchan could be heard, so I might as well-

“We’re here.”

What. Izuku snapped out of his trance. They were here already? Had he been that out of it? “Kacchan, wait-”

“What do you mean ‘wait’? We’re already here!” He opened the door, haphazardly kicked his shoes to the side of the entrance and headed upstairs. Izuku quickly took off his shoes and followed Katsuki to his room.

“Kacchan, what about your parents? I should greet them, I’m a guest after all, wouldn’t want to be rude.” He looked around; something felt different than when he last came here. Was it because he’s taller now?

“They’re not home.” Katsuki opened the door to his room. Izuku followed him in and shut the door. Katsuki then turned around with a terror inducing smile. Can that distortion of lips and teeth be called a smile? “Now you can tell me what’s really under those bandages.”

He knew it. He wouldn’t be here otherwise.

Izuku looked up with a nervous smile. It’d be easier to just show him and explain afterwards.

He reached up and took hold of the tucked end, and slowly unraveled the bandage. That villain really did a number on me.

Izuku looked up as he was unraveling, gauging Katsuki’s reaction. Right now he should just be seeing the different colors. Shock. Disbelief. Then intense focus. Then, once again, disbelief. Izuku unraveled the rest.

The bandages fell to the floor in a silent heap.

“So you really did get fucking choked.”

Izuku’s neck was a myriad of colors. Dark red and purple splotches littered his neck. Scattered around the darkest of bruises were the healing yellow and green. Izuku had taken a look at his neck when he was reapplying ointment, and at the time there were already specks of yellow and green. Izuku was sure that Katsuki must be seeing more of those colors.

More notable than the colors was the vague shape his bruises had taken shape: handprints.

“I did. I was in a sketchy area, so I was trying to get home before dark until I got held up from trying to help a cat. Before I knew it, a villain had jumped behind me and choked me.”

He took out his phone, and showed Katsuki the news article. He grabbed the phone, eyes intensely moving back and forth over the passage.

“I lied in class just because I wanted class to continue.”

Finished reading the article, Katsuki thrust the phone back to Izuku. “Why were you even there in the first place?” His eyes bore into Izuku’s.

well, here goes”I wanted to take notes on villain/hero fights.”

“FOR YOUR STUPID HERO NOTES?!”

He flinched from the volume. “Yeah, you see I planned on getting stronger by-”

“YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BE STRONG!” Katsuki suddenly grabbed Izuku by the cuff of his gakuran and dragged him up to match Katsuki’s height. “You don’t have a quirk! You can’t be a hero!” He shook Izuku back and forth. “GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK HEAD!”

“EVEN SO, KACCHAN, DOESN’T MEAN I HAVE TO BE WEAK!” Despite Katsuki’s tight hold on his neck, he held his tears at bay and glared back. “BECAUSE I’M WEAK, I ALMOST DIED!”

Katsuki dropped Izuku like hot iron.

“W-what?”

Izuku looked up from where he fell. He met Katsuki’s shocked gaze in determination. “I almost died, Kacchan,” he spoke softly. “I know that just notes will never be enough. Even if I didn’t want to be a hero I would still get stronger. Because I’m quirkless. Because I can’t defend myself if I am ever attacked.”

Izuku continued, tears starting to gather in the corner of his eyes. “Kacchan. . . I must seem so arrogant to you, huh? Here I am, wanting to be a hero while you fine control your explosions, and yet I’m not doing anything to make up for the fact that I’m quirkless. No muscle building, no martial arts classes, nothing. Nothing but notes, notes that won’t be of use if my body isn’t up to par.” Izuku sniffled.

“I’m gonna change that. I’ll ask my mom to enroll me in classes and I’ll get a gym membership.”

Katsuki blinked, shocked out of his trance. He bristled, eyes once again narrowing in anger. “You really fucking think that that’s enough? That you can still beat out the strongest of quirks with hard work alone? ARE YOU CRA-”

“Kacchan, the vigilante that saved me was quirkless!”

Katsuki was once again shocked to silence.

“He may be a vigilante, but he’s a living example of someone who’s strong enough even without a quirk! You read about that deer villain, right? Someone just like me defeated a villain that strong!”

Izuku calmed himself. He was going to talk to Kacchan, an actual talk this time. “I’m not saying that I’ll become a vigilante. If I’m rejected from U.A., I’ll give up on my dream. But until that day comes, I’ll do my best!”

Silence. Izuku waited for Katsuki’s response.

“. . . you’ll give up?” Izuku nodded.

“I’ll have to.”

Katsuki sat down in front of Izuku. He crossed his legs, looked Izuku in the eye, and calmly said:

“Shut the fuck up.”

What.

“H-huh?”

“I said to shut the fuck up. We need to work on our project. Up until what part did you finish?”

“But Kacchan, you don’t have anything to say back to me? That I’m stupid, or delusional?” Was this all for naught after all?

“I don’t really care what you do, you can become a vigilante, villain, or hero for all I care.”

“Kacchan. . .” Izuku started to cry. “Kacchan!” He was crying waterfalls. Katsuki was finally talking to him and considering him!

“I said shut the fuck up! Now tell me where you left off!”

----------

It wasn’t like Izuku hadn’t learnt his lesson, no, he thought he really did. That villain almost killed him after all.

So how did he end up behind a ramen shop with a girl bleeding out on the street? From a fucking bullet in her chest?

Said girl was knocked out cold. She had orange-pink hair tied into twin buns on opposite sides of her head, hidden underneath yellow and black ornaments. Her main outfit consisted of a red shoulder-sleeved cheongsam with black, puffed out pants and a pair of black flats. Clutched in her right hand was a purple umbrella.

The sun was rapidly setting, and Izuku not wanting a repeat of last time, especially since he was in the same Naruhata area, was rushing towards the train station. He had found a shortcut behind a row of restaurants, dodging and jumping over boxes and trash bins. In his rush, he had bumped into a girl, which brought him into his current predicament.

Uhhh, right! I have to stop the bleeding, what do I use- I’ll just use my uniform. Put pressure, put pressure. . . Alright, what next? I’ll check her pulse! Below the jaw, under her ear, place two fingers, okay I feel a pulse, now what- OH SHIT I NEED TO CALL AN AMBULANCE

While still putting pressure on the girl’s wound, he fished out his phone, scrambling to dial 119-

Only to have it snatched out of his hand. Huh?

“Shut up already, yes? It’s just a flesh wound!” Izuku gawked as he looked downwards.

The girl who was just passed out mere moments ago (No, she should still be unconscious! he thought) was now sitting up with Izuku’s phone in hand. She moved to stand up.

“Uhhh! Um! Are you sure you’re okay?” This girl can’t possibly be okay, why else would she pass out just from him bumping into her? “Is there anything you need? If it’s anything I can do, I’d like to help!”

The girl stood up, and stared at Izuku appraisingly. She put her hand to her chin in an exaggerated thinking pose, tilted her head, and said:

“I’m hungry.”

----------

Izuku stared despairingly into his empty,

Munch, Slurp

desolate,

Chomp, Clatter

and currently money free wallet.

“The food is great here! Hey lady, more rice, please!”

She had a never ending pit instead of a stomach. Never being one to leave a person in need of help, Izuku had taken her to the ramen shop they were behind. He had assumed she would eat one or two bowls of ramen, but no, she had finished 3 entire bowls of ramen, even eating rice with the leftover soup. Izuku doesn’t get it, with that extra rice she should be more than full!

“So, I see you’re really hungry!” Izuku nervously laughed. He needed her to stop. “Um, I wish we met under better circumstances, but my name is Midoriya Izuku! What’s your name?”

“Muh name ish Shaguruh.” Food sprayed from her mouth and into Izuku’s face. Ugh, well there goes that plan.

“I’m sorry? Can you say that again please, uh, this time with less food?”

She gulped and turned to Izuku, mouth finally empty. “I’m Kagura.” She took a gulp of water. “I’m the queen of Naruhata park, and I’ve never seen your mug around here.” My mug?, Izuku thought.

“Ah, yeah. I’ve been coming here recently to witness hero/villain fights for my notes.”

“Your notes? Why would you need notes for?”

“I want to be a hero when I grow up!” Remembering Knuckleduster, his shoulders straightened and smile widened. “I’m quirkless, so I need all the help I can get.”

Kagura’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re quirkless and you want to be a hero? You’re gonna get yourself killed, yes?”

Izuku internally deflated, though he anticipated the reaction. “I know, which is why I plan on getting training. I’ll work my hardest, but if I don’t get into U.A. despite my hard work, I’ll give up.”

Kagura gave him a considering look, then gulped down the rest of her water. “How hard do you plan on working?”

He blinked. What? He wasn’t expecting that question, he was expecting a shoot down, a dismissal of his dream. “I plan on doing whatever training I can get my hands on. My mom has used all the money for bills and whatnot since it’s the start of a new month, but once she gets money I’m planning on asking her to enroll me into some classes.”

“You’re stupid, uh-huh.” Yup there it is.

Kagura continued. “You don’t even know me, and yet you help me, even feed me. You talk to me as if I’m your friend.” She smiled. “I don’t know if you can get into that fancy U.A. school or not, but I’ll help you in your training.”

She stood up from her seat, motioning for Izuku to follow her after seeing him sitting stock still at the table.

“I’m pretty strong, too.” She flexed her arm, which Izuku saw little muscle on. What was she planning? “You were taking the shortcut to get to the station, yes?”

“I was, I don’t see how- WHOA WAIT-”

Kagura took Izuku into her arms in a princess carry, squatted down. . .

and leaped on top of a nearby building. THIS GIRL HAS SUPER STRENGTH?

She leaped from building to building with ease, Izuku squeezing her neck for dear life. His screams’ pitch increased and decreased to the rhythm of Kagura’s jumps. “Did yOOUU have tOOO do thiiIISS?”

To his frustration she just laughed. After what seemed to take a lifetime they had finally landed in front of the train station.

“You need to get home quick, yes? I took a lotta time eating, so I made up for it!” She slapped his back, sending him tumbling to the ground. “If you want my help, meet me here next Sunday at 8, yes! We have to get started early!”

“Yes- I mean, what? Training? I-” Kagura pushed him into the train. “Bye Izuku!”

The train departed, Kagura waving him goodbye and with Izuku’s confused face smashed into the window.

Seems he was going to Naruhata yet again.

----------

After coming home to a worried, tearful mom, Izuku had finished his dinner and was currently finishing up his homework. He was working on his joint story with Katsuki, finishing up All Might’s dialogue in his showdown with The Inventor.

Izuku had taken a picture of Katsuki’s fight scenes as reference and was once again taken aback by his talent. “Kacchan’s so good at everything,” he murmured. “He would make a reliable friend.” He looked at the red string tied to his pinky. “I wonder what he would be like if he were. . . if he were-” Izuku suddenly blushed, slapping his face to will the thoughts away. Oh no what am I thinking!

When Izuku’s dad had come home for the first time and saw that he shared his string with his mom, he was elated to finally discover the meaning of the red strings he kept on seeing. He was convinced of the fact that red strings were connected to their soul mates, even more so when he had gained permission to use the computer to research legends regarding the string.

As he grew older, however, he started to doubt what the red string represented, seeing how his own relationship with Katsuki had soured. He had even started to resent the red string. He remembered how Mr. Nakamura’s divorced wife looked the day she came back from signing the divorce papers. In a way, the red string forced people apart.

Izuku still thought there were more to be learned about the string, desperate to know why it was placed between him and Kacchan of all people. Izuku had always liked Kacchan, he was enamored with his strength, his drive, but what was the point if the other person would likely never return his feelings? He couldn’t even talk about this problem with anyone else.

Wait. That’s it! “Someone else could be like me!” Someone else could besides him could see the red string!

He excitedly turned his computer on and after a minute or two of rebooting he furiously typed into the search box, “I can see red strings on people.”

The resulting searches linked to romance articles. Maybe he should be more vague?

“Red string advice,” he typed.

The legend behind the red string

Does your significant other connect to your red string? Ways to know. . .

How to see the red string

Koushi Family: Specializing in the Red String

Yahoo Answers: Is red string enough for shibari?

Red string around my XXX!

Well, it was worth a try.