Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Izumi” Haruto says softly, his blue hair tousled by the cool wind on the balcony. “I have something for you”

It’s only then where she halts in her thoughts, and the 9-year-old Izumi turns around to look at the tall boy her age. He holds a blue pendant in his calloused hand, and she realizes after a moment, that it’s the colour of his eyes. It’s held up together with a piece of metallic string, a secured piece of carved glass fastened inside the middle, softened into a circle.

“Your eyes…”, she mutters, subconsciously, her hands reaching up to her face to brush away a lock of dirty green hair. She is in nothing but dirty black hand-me-down clothes, red, veiny scars trailing down her face like streams of never-ending rivers.

“My eyes?” He repeats, softly. The lines under his eyes and the scar upon his lip are prominent against the dim light “It does, doesn’t it?”, he says after a moment, the corner of his lips coming upwards. “I made it for you”

She looks behind her, before looking at Haruto, blinking. She never had a gift before.

“Are you talking to me. Haruto-san?”, she says, in her usual monotone, just to make sure.

“Yes, you.” He teases, taking another glance of dancing flames. “Or maybe I should give this to Giran…”

She immediately has an image of the grouchy Giran with a necklace- but of course she trusts that he can control the impulse. She doesn’t really want him to give it to Giran. It dawns on her when she pauses.

“Are you sure… it’s for me?” She repeats dumbly, not really believing that this was real, immediately flushing in embarrassment. She looks away, shamefully, her calloused hands clenching into fists. “I apologize, sir.”

He smiles at her genuinely, his eyes crinkled as he laughs. Her heart does something weird.

“It’s alright Izumi.” He pats her messy dirty locks of green hair shyly. “well it is for you”, he says. He scratches his neck awkwardly. “It’s…It’s okay if you don’t like it though, I’m not not good at making stuff, but I really wanted you to have something….and I thought-well you seemed to like the colour blue”

“I do like the colour blue, sir” she tells him firmly. Blue was the colour of his eyes. Blue was different. Blue was the one that made her feel like an Izumi.

 Blue was the only one she had. He was the only one she had.

He smiles. “Then…here” he holds her hands in his with the pendant dropping down onto her hand.. “So you’ll always have me by your side”

She grasps the hand-made pendant gently in her hand like a treasure, and it’s then where she thinks- they are beautiful.

“Thank you” she whispers benevolently, and she looks up to Haruto with the most emotion he has ever seen from Izumi. He is beautiful, she thinks, even with his sccared, destroyed face full of death and pitch black nights of days that never seemed to rise. Because in the eyes that were deep like black catastrophe and as silent like the howls that lingered but never came, there were the memories that never seemed to leave, like a softly uttered curse in fading echoes of never. She didn’t mind it, because Haruto stayed, and that was…enough because that was the most she ever had.

Her face smooths over into a cold, emotionless expression once again. A look crosses his face. Internally, Izumi frowns.

She was never supposed to end up like this, Haruto repeats like a mantra, they were never supposed to end up this way- mindless weapons of fate. She was a gentle sort of horror, an autumn of whispers between the maple trees that urged them: Die with me.

He watched Izumi turn his back on him.

And when they didn’t, were they supposed to be grateful that they had survived?

Chapter Text

All my grief says the same thing:

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

And the world laughs,

Holds my hope by the throat,

And says:

But this is how it is.

Izumi roams around the library, her hand finger-trailing the spines of the carrier of stories; her upturned viridian eyes taking in the familiar sight in wonder, until she stops with a halt. She opens the book -a dusty, brown hardcover hidden in the isle of ‘H’- and examines it once forth, before taking in the smell of the calloused treasure. Her black hair falls onto the pages, slowly, and when she sits down on the cold floor, she starts to read.

As her eyes trail where she left off from last time, she falters at a particular line- “Always” it says. She remembers him. It wasn’t new - each word, each day reminds her of that empty feeling in her chest, and she doesn’t understand. She tries to fixate her eyes onto the page.

What’s wrong with her?

Subconsciously, her free hand clutches the blue pendent resting on her scarred throat- her most treasured possession- and she remembers, those crinkled, fluorescent blue eyes, staring at her.

“Izumi- stop” he breathes out. He’s surrounded by a pool of blood. His blood. His boot drifts, squishing the blood.

“I’m not leaving you!”, she wrenches out, her eyes welling up in bloody tears- her heartbeat in her ears. Izumi can barely hear his soft voice, shaking, grasping what was left of him- she knows it’s too late- and she tries, limping with pain, to carry him out, to safety, because he has to live-

“That’s enough!” It startles her into silence, his voice carrying through the debris,  his voice raspy with pain. Each breath feels like one too soon, one too late- each second feeling like eternity. His blue, eyes look up to her, with pain, and effort, and she opens her mouth to say something. She doesn’t know what to say.

She drops his arms back, the blood smothering her face, looking up to him, into his bright, flourecent full of blood-

Her breath hitches. She shuts her eyes tight, not realizing she’s been reading the same line three times in a row. She tightens her hold on her pendant, staying there stoically, hoping it would erase the pain.

She counts her breaths, the time; the seconds that pass by.

And there are footsteps, and she knows how it is even without turning around- she doesn’t respond, just breathes, waiting, always waiting.

“Hey, Izu’’” His footsteps stop. His voice echoes in the silent library, and the librarian doesn’t bother to tell him to hush. She can feel him sit down beside her- she doesn’t bother to open her eyes, but she turns her body to face him.

“Want a hug?”, he offers, softly, his breath trickling her ear.

She nods hesitantly-she doesn’t know how he knows. Is she that easy to read?

“Yeah”, she tells him, and she’s surprised her voice isn’t shaking. She can feel his arms wrap around her, and she leans on him, his jacket tickling the side of her head. “How did you find me?”

“Book-lover”

She gives him a small, smile. “Yeah” she says, the book still in her lap. “That makes sense”

They’re in comfortable silence -she’s grateful for the quiet, that he doesn’t ask her questions.

“He’s alive.” She tells him in the silence. “He’s not gone”

Kane, her co-worker, nods at her in response, but she doesn’t see it with her eyes, only feels the reassuring pat on her green lock’s hair. She tries to breath.

Yeah”, he says. She knows he’s lying from the tone of his voice, and the way he fidgets slightly from beside her.

She doesn’t say anything in response.

After a while, she sits up straight, opening her eyes gently, releasing the pendant from her tight hold.

“Is it okay if I ask you a question?”, she whispers, hesitantly, looking at him. He gives her a shrug.

“I’m confused” she pauses. “Because- - why… why do I feel like…something missing.” She fumbles over her words. “I don’t understand it- like… a part of me is gone. Like he’s gone. And- it can’t be true .” Her voice cracks with every word, and she clenches her jaw. “Because…he’s alive. He’s alive.” She repeats.

“I- I think it means that you…miss him. Because you can’t see him at the moment.” he explains, giving her a small, sad smile that she doesn’t see. “It’s what you feel until you see him again.”

“Miss…. him?”, she asks, using the foreign word. She thinks about the loss, the feeling of emptiness- because she can’t see him at the moment. That’s what they tell her. But she wants it to stop. She doesn’t like it- it hurts.

(she knows she’s never going to see his quirked up smile ever again)

She looks at Kane in his grey jacket and black jeans.

“Maybe that’s true…is that a good thing? How do I- “she claws the emptiness in her chest, her hands shaking. Her voice breaks. “How do I stop it?”

He grasps her hands in his calloused ones to stop hurting herself.

 “It’s not exactly a good or bad thing” His voice is soft. If her eyes were open, she would see the way his golden eyes look at her.  “Because…It’s… a feeling. And that’s alright Greenie, because I think that makes you human. And that’s not a bad or good thing. You can’t stop it exactly…. stop it at the moment, but you can do something with it. Write a letter to him, maybe.”

She closes her book gently.

A report. Like she used to do. She looks up to him.

“Oh…I think I can do that. Then…” Her voice shrinks into a whisper, as if she was letting him in on a secret. “I think I miss him. Is…that’s okay? I won’t…I won’t get punished?”

Her voice shakes.

“Ding!” he mimics a buzzer. “That’s right, my prized pupil!”, he cheers softly, and he says it like he really means it. She gives him a small smile and Kane gives her a goofy grin. He stands up, dusting the wrinkles on his jeans.

She doesn’t want to think about the day he’ll leave too.

“Ready, Izumi?”, he asks her, clenching his fist. He looks at her, his blue eyes blinking with glassy feel.

“I’m always ready, sir”, she says blankly, looking up to the boy her age. “I am your weapon. I am always ready”

He hesitates. “Izumi”, he says. He looks at her in pain. “Do you really think I think of you as a weapon?”, he whispers.

“It….is my only purpose, sir” she says flatly.

“Izumi.” He places a hand on her shoulder, and she looks up into his blue eyes. He looks at her, determined. “I want you to understand that you are a human”, he says firmly.

“Human?”, she asks, perplexed. “Yes, sir, I am. But my only purpose is to be your weapon…after then, you may- discard me”

He looks at her, as if he was reading her like an open book. She doesn’t really know.

Then he takes her scarred hand, and places it above his heart. She feels the steady, comforting thump. “Your heart beats as mine, does it not?”

“It does, sir”, she answers automatically.

“Then you are no weapon. You are no object” he tells her resolutely. “You are Izumi. You are Izumi to me.”

(She wonders why emptiness feels so heavy)

 She whispers to her pendant under her breath. “I’ll miss you until I see again”, she tells it, her voice cracking, hoping it reaches him. Then, she follows Kane’s lead, standing up. He immediately tosses an arm over her grey jacket.

She places her book back into its designated shelf, waiting and she lets him lead her outside.

“Where are we going?”

“Lunch!”

She waves goodbye to the librarian, and the old woman smiles at her, simultaneously giving a half-hearted glare to Kane.

“Alright” She perks up under the weight of his arm, putting a hand into one of her black jean’s pockets. “What are we going to eat?”

“Food. Duh”, he says, winking at the Librarian. The old women narrow his eyes at him, rolling her eye. Izumi almost laughs.

“That narrows it down, real nicely”, she tells him, dryly.

He laughs and for a moment, she can almost see him. It’s eerie how similar they are, she thinks distantly, how important they are to her.

They have lunch in a nearby modern restaurant. There’s a lot of people, so they take the takeout for their apartment instead. When they get to the apartment, Izumi hangs both she and Kane’s jacket and places her shoes by the door.

 Just like how Haruto used to do it.

They eat their ramen in chatters, and she doesn’t feel quite as alone.

They finish their lunch, Izumi washes the dishes, and Kane lounges on their couch in the living room, scrolling in his phone.

“Hey Greenie”, Kane says after a while, looking up from his phone. Izumi sits beside him, drawing in her sketch pad, turning to look at him. “Which school are you going to apply to?”

“U.A” She sketches the final piece of her portrait. “Or Shiketsu if I don’t make it into the entrance exams. Or really, just anything that stops villains”

“Izumi”, he whispers to her, his voice shaking.  “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she asks in confusion. “What does that mean, sir?”

“It- It means that you regret something, and that you want to tell them that- that you feel bad”

She pauses. “Why are you sorry, sir?”

“Because…. you’ve gotten into my mess” He presses his eyes shut, clenching his fists. Izumi doesn’t understand. “You should’ve had a normal life”

“Sir- “Her voice is blank. “I’m quirkless. This is the only life I can imagine living”

“No!”, he shouts suddenly. “It shouldn’t be that way!”

She cowers. “I don’t understand sir”, she whispers.

“You could be anything!”, he says. “You should have a choice on who you want to become”

“I am your weapon, sir”, she whispers, her tone shaking. “That’s who I am”

“Imagine then” he says firmly, wiping his eyes. “Imagine what you want to be”

He told her this before. She closes her eyes. There is only black.

“I don’t know, sir. This is the only thing I know”, she whispers. She recalls his earlier words. “I’m sorry”

“No-“he presses his hand to his temple. “Okay. How about this- an example. For me,” He hushes into a whisper, a secret. “I actually want to be a hero!”

“A …hero?”

“Yeah!” He nods, a smile quirking in the edges of his lips. “It’s someone who’s brave enough to create good change. Someone who stops people from getting hurt.”

She think about it: He changed her. He was the one who smiled at her, who made her have a purpose in life. He stopped her from living a quirkless, useless life. He made her feel warm. He was different.

She gives him a small, barely recognizable smile.

“I think your already a hero, sir”, she tells him. “My hero”

“So you’re really not going to stay a cop for long?”

“Yes. No. It depends” She puts her signature on the edge of the portrait. It’s a picture of Haruto, smiling- she has to keep what she still has left of him. She’s not sure she remembers his face. It’s been so long. “After I graduate.”

“Why?”, he asks her, curious. The choker blending in with his tanned skin “I mean, you’re already a cop”

“Because…” she pauses. “I want to be someone who’s brave enough to make good change. I want to stop people from get hurt.”

“Don’t you already do that?”

“We….We mostly deal with the aftermath. I- I want to be able to stop people from feeling the pain from the villains in the first place” she says hesitantly, ducking her head. “And…I suppose…I want to be the one who defeats the villains. I want to punish them. I want them to feel the pain they selfishly give others. I don’t understand why they hurt people.”

“Like my good old hag rotting in prison” He pauses. “Like me”

She snaps her head towards him. There’s an unreadable expression on his face. “I…I don’t know what you are feeling, K-chan…. but” she pauses. “You are not your mother. You’re different”

He looks up to her. He doesn’t seem to hear her. “I don’t understand what went wrong. I don’t know what I did to her”, he looks up to her “She wasn’t a villain to me”, he whispers. He clenches his fist.

She stares at him, unsure. There was a reason he had the choker from the police- it was a tracker; a bomb; in case he ever went rouge with his quirk like last time. He was a kid back then.

He continues, darkly. “Then she was.”

That was the day he went rouge. Out of rage.

“K-Chan. Do…Do you want a hug?”, she asks him, holding her arms out hesitantly, remembering how he did it earlier. “It helps”

He grins at her, but it wasn’t genuine. “No, it’s alright. I’m fine” he says.

There it was again. This- This was what made feeling- emotions- so confusing.

 “You…told me that it’s okay to feel. It’s human. I think….I don’t know, but- you can talk to me? If you’d like? I think it helps most people. Or- I’m here to give you a hug”

He stares at her with something unreadable in his face.

“You don’t understand”, he murmurs. “It’s more complicated than that”

“Hug”, she says, faltering. “I don’t understand it, but I can give you a hug”

He finally looks up to her. “Alright, hero.” He speaks, his face oddly serious.  “But…I don’t want to talk”

“That’s okay”

Then he leans into her arms, resting his chin on her shoulder, staying there in silence. It’s a strange parallel to the afternoon. But it’s okay. She awkwardly wraps her arms around him. His phone rests in his lap.

“I’ll miss my partner in crime” he whines jokingly.

He’s come back. But he hasn’t resolved his feelings. Izumi doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do- she see’s anger underneath the surface- and she doesn’t know how to calm it.

Instead, she pats his muscled shoulder comfortingly. “I’m not going to leave yet”

He slumps in the couch. “Then we better work hard eh?”, he ponders, ruffling his black hair. “At least I’ll see you after school”

“Yeah” She looks at him a moment longer, and retrieves her sketch pad. She’ll just have to see. She begins to doodles an eye with her pencil. “Which school are you applying to?”

“Ainza Police Academy”, he tells her.

She crosses her legs, flipping into another page. “Why?”

“To raise my chances of becoming captain”, he explained briefly. “to make Dad proud”

She smiles at him. “He better be proud. I’m proud of you.”, she said. “There isn’t any reason not to be.”

He flushes after a moment processing it, colour returning to his face. “Aww”, he says. “You love me after all!”

It feels too fast, his transition, from angry to normal…but…it’s human, right? Then…that’s alright?

“And…from the bottom of my heart” He gives her a heartfelt smile, and that smile- she doesn’t know that feeling when she sees it-

“I love you, Izumi”, he whispers, smiling so wide, his eyes are shut, his face full of bloody tears.

Love? A surge of panic wells up. What that mean?

“What does… love mean?”, she whispers.

He falters into a sad smile. His face goes dark- too quick, but she catches the change.

 “Hey, tomorrow we have school, right?”

He doesn’t answer her question, but she goes along with it for his sake.

“Yeah”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, so you can avoid them”

She smiles gratefully at him. “Thank you”

the first day of school.

“Everyone, we have a new kid in school. Everyone, say hello to Izumi Midorya”, the teacher says. Izumi is in front of the class, with a blank face, staring at so many unknown faces. She’s around 11.

She’s alone. She’s lost everything. She doesn’t know what to do.

She wants to try.

“Hello”, they chorus. “Welcome to Aldera Junior High”

The teacher nudges her, and she flinches. The teacher leans down to whisper: “Introduce yourself”

Oh, she realizes, like how she does in the meetings. Alright.

She brushes her black hair behind her ear. The tips of her hair are dyed blue in her request. Her disguise- according to Officer Yuto, she has to hide from her commanders. For her escape.

“Hello” She greets blankly, falling into a curtsey. Her voice is cold of emotion. “I am pleased to be your ally. You may call me Izumi.” She rises elegantly. “Do you have any inquiries?”

The kids look at her, and towards the teacher, seemingly perplexed. She’s used to this- she was young, so most of the villains doubted her ability. She waits for the jeers.

Everyone hated her anyway. Except Haruto.

But he’s not here.

 “What’s your quirk?”, one of them yell. He has red wings on his back, and she’s almost curious. Instead, she tenses.

She had hoped she would avoid this part. She ignores the question.

“Raise your hand before you speak!”, the teacher scolds the kid, and she sends the teacher a grateful look. The kid cowers, raising his hand.

The teacher smiles in response. “Good. Tsubasa, what it your question?”

“What’s your quirk, new kid?”, he yells again.

“I’m afraid I do not want to answer that question”, she says, clenching her jaw, and bows. She knows what would happen. “I’m sorry”

The class explodes into chatters and the teacher looks at her sympathetically.

 “Everyone calm down!”, she yells. “She is the daughter of police chief!”

Daughter? She distantly remembers being adopted into his care, and she supposes that she is correct.

“So?”, a blond kid argues loudly. “Who cares? Does she have a villain quirk? Or…” he leans forward. “Is she quirkless?” He scowls. “Speak up, coward!” He pops explosions in his hand for good measure.

She turns her emotionless stare at him.

He hates her too, already.

(She’s alone)

“I apologize” she bows again for good measure. “I simply do not wish for you to treat me according to society. Please lower your volume down, it gets in the way of school.”

He narrows his eyes. For a moment she sees only the roar of the villain, and she shuts her eyes firmly, before peeling them open. “Why? Are you looking down on me? Answer my question!”

She would if he was her superior. But he isn’t. Just another kid. But Haruto gave her a final order to live. To become a kid again. But she doesn’t know how to do that.

(He left her)

(She’s ALONE)

“You are not my commander” she says, instead of answering. She doesn’t like this feeling in her chest. Anger, fear- it reminds her…too much of the explosion.  “You are not entitled to my answer”

The kid’s red eyes glare at her. Just like Muscular did. The kid stands up from his chair, marching over to her.

“Are you looking down on me?”, he sneers at her angrily, the class going silent, watching their exchange. Explosions erupt in his hand. She flinches. It reminds her too much of him. Of the building…falling down.

 They all hate her too now.

Everybody hates her.

(she’s alone)

(why did he leave her?)

She lifts her head to look at him in the eye, her hand trembling slightly.

“I am a student in this class, and so are you” she tells him. Her voice is blank.  Her hand clutches the pendant on her neck shakily. “We are both of the same level. I…don’t understand how I’m looking down on you. I’m not better than you. We are all equals”

He opens his mouth to speak, and then closes it again.

Then you better figure out how it works around here!”, he barks at her, and marches down to his seat, his black uniform slightly singed.

After a moment, the teacher tells her that her seat is by the window, and she walks there with military precision and takes her seat.

(She’s alone)

(Everyone hates her)

(Everyone leaves)

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

In class, it’s almost the end of the day. She deals with the jeers with cold statements and though it’s an inconvenience, their perseverance is admirable. She doesn’t know what to do- everything she says or does gives them another point to hurt her. Everyone hates her, because she’s a worthless, quirkless deku. So instead of trying to deal with it, she just ignores them. She tries- she really, really tries.

She’s silent in class, sitting up straight as she listens to the teacher talk. It’s nothing new.

Today though, she thinks: Why should she be a hero? Was it logical? She didn’t know. For all she knew, she was lucky to keep her job as a cop- a quirkless, worthless deku could never have a job- why was she choosing a different path?

She doesn’t really know. All she knows is that she’s tired of dealing with the aftermath, and she wants to do something that matters.

(So many feel pain)

“Officer”, a little kid looks up to her with watery eyes, her voice trembling. The cops were called to contain the aftermath. “Whats going to happen to my daddy?”

Izumi looks at the kid. “He is in the hospital.”, she responds. The villain attack had sent an apartment toppling, and her father had been one of the victims.

“Why?”, she demands, stomping her feet in agitation. “What’s happening? Why can’t I be with him?”

“He is in surgery”, she says.

“So?”, she argues, not understanding the word. The kid clenches her fist and looks at her determinedly. “I know that he might die! I already know!” Her head bobs from each word. “Why can’t I spend time with him while he’s still here?”

Izumi’s eyes burn. “He’s…being treated. You can’t disturb him, because the doctors are going to need their concentration”

The kid wipes her eyes furiously. “I just want to see him!” she demands, trembling. “I want to see him! I want to see my daddy!” Her voice cracks, glaring at Izumi as if that would allow her to see her father a final time. “Let me see him!”

“I can’t” She can’t stand the look on the kids face but she forces herself to look at her. “I’m sorry”

The kid marches up to her, tears barely stopping themselves from escaping. “Just- Just let me see my daddy!”, she shouts. “ I want to see him! Alive!”

Being an officer can’t stop it. Only with the aftermath- and…that’s not enough. She wants to have the power to able to prevent that pain from happening. That’s what a hero can do- right?

 Does she deserve it? Can she be a hero- knowing that she’s made so many kids wait for a father that will never return? Can deku be a hero?

Can she be a hero? Is it logical?

What is a hero?

She…doesn’t know.

She forces herself to look at the teacher again- he’s reading out a sheet of paper.

All she really knows is that she no longer wants to be on the side of the villians. They hurt Haruto-san and she will not be part of the side that did so. She’s no longer that weapon when she was 7. She’s different.

She’s Izumi.

(She’s a worthless, pathetic deku)

She doesn’t really know. No one seems to be the right candidate for the answer- because everyone is confusing. They all seem to treat her lesser, and they all want to be heroes. Is that what a hero should be? Why do they hate her for something she has no control of?

How can they be heroes?

She remembers all the people she’s killed, and distantly, she thinks: I’m not any different.

Does she deserve to live after all the lives she’s ended?

She trembles slightly. She bows her head. She wants to hope that not noticeable to the class, but she knows better than that - no one cares about the deku.  Her black locks fall onto her notebook.

“Izumi- stop” he breathes out. He’s surrounded by a pool of blood. His blood. His boot drifts, squishing the blood.

“I’m not leaving you!”, she wrenches out, her eyes welling up in bloody tears- her heartbeat in her ears. Izumi can barely hear his soft voice, shaking, grasping what was left of him- she knows it’s too late- and she tries, limping with pain, to carry him out, to safety, because he has to live-

“That’s enough!”, he yells at her, his voice carrying across the debris. His voice raspy with pain. Each breath feels like one too soon, one too late- each second feeling like eternity. His blue, eyes look up to her, with pain, and effort, and she opens her mouth to say something. She doesn’t know what to say.

She drops his arms back, the blood smothering her face, looking up to him, into his bright, flourecent full of blood-

She falls to her knees, trembling- something- something is hurting in her chest- like- she doesn’t understand- he can’t die-

 “Izumi” he gasps out softly, and she stares into those blue eyes, tears slipping down her eyes. She takes in another shaky breath. “you must live” He struggles to look up into her face. “Live…and be free” , he says. His voice cracks, and tears well up in his eyes.

“Not without you”, she cracks out. “Not without you”

He shuts his eyes painfully. “Izumi. I’ll always be by your side. And that- that I’m so grateful for you. Thank you for everything. You were the best thing in my life. ” he whispers, his mouth cracking into a heartbroken smile. Izumi’s breath shudders. “And- if I don’t make it- I..didn’t understand before, what the words meant but- but now I know because-“ His smile is warm in the darkness of loss. “because you …smiled at me”  His voice is no louder than a whisper.

He gives her a heartfelt smile, and he closes his eyes. And that smile- she doesn’t know the feeling it means when she sees it-

“And…now I know what it means, to say…I love you”.  His tears slip down his face, mixing in with the blood. She cups his check with one of her hands, wiping his tears. “So from the bottom of my heart…I love you”

His eyes open, blue, fluorescent eyes, stared into hers with an unreadable emotion. Her tears mix with his.

Love? A surge of panic wells up. What does- what does love mean?

She clutches her pendant - her bright blue, pendant, which matched the colour on the tips of her hair and the colour of orbs, of the first person who gave her a reason to smile again. The person who left.

Her eyes downcast onto her pendant, the gift of the person who left. Always.

But he broke his promise.

(Everyone leaves her)

(Everyone hates her)

(She’s alone)

She pinches her skin sharply, a snap of explosion sending a sharp wheeze of pain down her arm.

 It’s then when her teachers voice send shivers down her spine:

“Now that you mention it, didn’t Midoriya want to go to Yuuei as well?”

Izumi has seen a lot of deaths. The next few second of silence makes her remember each scream.

Then all at once, the room erupts into roars of laughter. She flinches from the sudden noise.

 Izumi stares straight ahead, letting her classmates’ scorn lash at her from all sides. Nothing she did or said seemed to change anything.

She faces the front of the classroom and keeps staring until a miniature explosion blossoms up from his desk and sends her tumbling back to the floor.

“Kacchan” she whispers defiantly, flinching at the explosion. The nickname she started to use when he called her deku. (The explosions remind her of everything she couldn’t do, the pain, the grief-) “How are you?”

“Quit the act, Deku” The voice makes Izumi limbs lock where they are. She tries to look Bakugou in the eye; she really, really tries but all she sees is muscular’s face. “You don’t even have a fucking quirk. So where do you get off putting yourself on the same level as me?”

Looking at his face is too much, so Izumi goes back to staring straight ahead. Sometimes she wishes she forgot how to feel. The explosion-

“We- We are.. equals Kacchan.” She whispers defiantly. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to say- everything she does makes him angry. “I’m just applying into a school. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Fuck that, Deku, I know a challenge when I see one!” A step forward, and Izumi stares straight ahead and waits. “Do you want to fucking die?”

“No,” Izumi says, flinching. “I’m trying to get into a school. That’s all” Finally…slowly, she raises her eyes to meet his glaring red eyes. She tries to discern his feelings: she see’s anger, spite, and something else she doesn’t understand. “It’s not about you.”

The class jeers with derisive laughter. She collects herself, getting back into her seat and it’s a while before order is restored again.

By the time class is over, Izumi immerses herself in the safety of online news reports. Videos, photographs, and eyewitness accounts of heroics keep her informed with knowledge, and the gross, ugly feelings die down as she reminds herself of her goals.

She has to do everything to keep herself on the same level. Keep…proving herself to everyone. She has to.

She starts grabbing her belongings. As a familiar shadow falls across her desk and Izumi grabs her notebook and tries to shove it into her bag. The faster she gets her things together, the easier she can leave and get work done.

The notebook is snatched out of her hands and out of her reach.

So many explosions- buildings falling-

“We’re not done, Deku.”

Frustration wells up in her chest and maybe a slight twinge of fear.

 “May I have my book back?” She makes a grab for the notebook, to no avail. Bakugou twitches it out of her reach. She could just steal it- she has been known to be quick- but he looks like he needs to get something out of his chest (the explosions- she’s scared-).

 Better Deku than anyone else.

It’s her fault for not being quick enough. She wasn’t quick enough to save him. Best serve her punishment.

“Here’s the thing, Deku. Try and get this through your tiny little quirkless brain. I’m gonna be the first and only student from this crappy school to get into Yuuei.”

A palm-sized explosion rips through the notebook, and Izumi makes a noise like she’s just been punched in the stomach: She needs that to make up for her lack of quirk.

Anger wells up in her chest.

(everyone hates her)

“So I don’t like it when a useless nobody like you comes along and challenges that.”

He’s too close. She flinches from the intensity under his gaze, because she can remember the face of muscular and the tightness in her chest feels too real. But…if nothing else, it puts things into perspective a little.

“I don’t define your worth, Kacchan” she tells him, anger seeping into her tone. “And…And I’m not useless”

“You are!” The desk takes more abuse with another explosive punch. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that! You don’t define my worth-“He cuts himself all of a sudden and looks conflicted. He regains himself. “You’re nothing and you’ll always be nothing! Try and remember that next time you try to pull shit like this!”

She flinches.

“Mabye you can take a swan dive of the roof and hope for a quirk in your next life”

She sucks in a hard breath, and she looks at him. Muscular- explosions-

He looks at her, as if he was reading her like an open book. She doesn’t really know.

Then he takes her scarred hand, and places it above his heart. She feels the steady, comforting thump. “Your heart beats as mine, does it not?”

“It does, sir”, she answers automatically.

“Then you are no weapon. You are no object” he tells her resolutely. “You are Izumi. You are Izumi to me.”

“No, I won’t.” she whispers, begrudgingly. “Because…I’m Izumi. I am no object of your desire”

She almost regrets that, because in the next second, Bakugou’s hand closes around her shoulder.

From the moment he touched her, she just moves. She grabs the hand and flips him in pure instinct and grabs her notebook. A loud, painful thud. She flees with her belongings before Bakagou can processes it. She hears an angry shout.

He reminds her too much of the man who took part in hurting Haruto. It’s unfair- but- but she can’t stop the feeling of anger, of spite and fear. She wants to hurt him. It’s getting harder to control.

She…She’s scared of him.

She flees, and runs- as far she can, trying to forget. Haruto always told her to count when she felt this.

So she counts as she runs her way towards Kane. When she counts to 100, she find Kane by their usual spot in front of the school, still in his uniform.

She remembers how hard he worked to get into that elite school. She was sure he would make it into the next.

“Hey Greenie” He greets, his hand in his pocket. “They give you trouble?”

She doesn’t want to remember Bakagou’s abashed statement.

“Nothing new”, she replies, looking away. She bits her lip, blinking hard. “Yeah. That’s right. Nothing new”

Kane doesn’t believe her, and she see’s it from the way he slings his arm over her shoulder comfortingly. The small act of kindness almost brings her to tears.

“Thank you” she whispers.

“It’s alright. I’m here”

She smiles a wobbly grin, and a chuckle escapes her mouth. “Yeah”

The sky is a warm shade of orange as she blinks the tears out of her eyes. They’re walking together beneath an overpass , on their way to the bus station when Kane stops with a halt.

She puts her notebook in her bag.

“I need to do something….” Kane says suddenly. He hesitates, looking at her like he’s scared she’ll disagree. “You can go on without me”

 She tilts her head to the side. “Alright”, she says.

She watches his retreating form run towards a strange direction. Izumi steps over a manhole and walks on, unaware of her surroundings as she mutters the information she has yet to process. She's not paying attention.

(If she would be a hero, and pass the entrance exam, how would she fight? How would she fight? All she knew was how to kill. That certainly wouldn’t be permitted.)

Then she feels the change- a rumble underneath the earth, and she turns just as the slime emerges from the sewer. She has time to run, but it's not enough, and the slime is upon her before she even makes it out into the open. It covers her, sticky and clinging, oozing over her mouth and nose until darkness creeps around the edges of her vision.

She thrashes and kicks- but all she feels is goo.

It’s fast- and she can barely formulate a plan as she suffocates slowly, with nothing to use against  the villain, and she is reminded once again why she wants to be a hero, as she feels the pain suffocate her. She remembers the building…falling…down.

She can’t do anything.

6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

 Her last thought as her vision goes black is that maybe, just maybe, she might be able to see Haruto again.

“Haruto.” A blue haired, middle aged man barges into his room. He has that presence that commands everyone to listen. “Hello, son”

He straightens his back, looking at the man in the eye. “Hello…father”

Chapter Text

“Haruto.” A blue haired, middle aged man barges into his room. He has that presence that commands everyone to listen, his cold glare silencing him with his angular face. “Hello, son”

He straightens his back, looking at the man in the eye. “Hello…father”

“Congratulations on your 7’th birthday”, he says briefly, looking down at him with his towering height. Haruto has to tilt his face just to look at him. “I have a present for you”

He perks up. “A present?” he asks, trying not to show how giddy his is at the thought. He never had a present before.

“Yes”, he says coldly, impatiently. “A weapon” Haruto doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t want to push his luck. When his father tells him to follow, Haruto does. He shows him to a room, where there are blankets covering something.

The blue-haired man strolls to the thing, and throws the blanket away, showing an exhausting-looking girl his age. She’s small, and she has grime and blood splattered all over her body. She wears rags.

Does she have the weapon?

Almost immediately, she wakes up. Bright green, baggy eyes stare into his blue florescent ugly eyes, and he is almost entranced.

“Hello”, Haruto says softly. “Whats your name?”

She opens her mouth to answer, but her head is pushed forward, facing the floor harshly.

 “She doesn’t have a name”, his father tells him, brusquely. “I’ve only been calling her, ‘you’.” He pauses, before shoving her face back down onto the floor, forcing her to bow. “You! Say hello” he barks, snarling.

She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t seem to know how to.

Haruto pulls the girls arm to trap her in his hug, looking up to his father.

“Father!” he protests, her small face in his chest. She peeks up from under, looking up, her green hair falling to the sides. “You can’t treat a child like that!”

“She is no child” his bone chilling voice silences him, anger creeping into the edges of his voice. “She is your weapon”

She was the…weapon?

He looks down at her, at the small girl who was most likely stolen, how small and scared she was as she struggled to peer into his eyes. He can’t leave her with his father. How could she be the weapon?

“Where did you find her?” His voice is small.

“Find her?” He laughs wickedly. “I bought her”

He looks at his father, and Haruto has to push the sudden wave of anger threatening to pull over.

“I’ll take her” he tells his father firmly. “I’ll take the girl”

The father stands up straight, his hands behind his back, staring at something beyond him. His eyes are narrowed. Haruto has the distinct feeling to cower in fear.

“Don’t get attached”, he snarled. “Be quick”

“Yes Father”

Then…as soon as his father leaves, he slumps over. The girl is trembling in sobs, as soon as the door shut. Her sobs are quiet, but her body rumbles, shaking, and Haruto squeezes the girl tighter in his embrace.

The villain underground is a harsh place. He can’t let father hurt another life.

“Hey” he whispers to the girl, softly. “I’m Haruto. Whats your name?”

The girl’s sobs halt at once, and she freezes. She peeks at him through her eyelashes, her eyebrows furrowed. She looks angry.

She doesn’t respond.

Oh yeah. She doesn’t know how to speak.

“That’s okay” he says. He tries to smile, like the hero he saw on TV. But…He doesn’t know how to.

So instead, he stands up, and extends his hand towards her.

“I’ll show you around”, he says, blankly.

 The girl looks at his hand, and then at him. Then she curls up in a ball, and burrows her head between her knees, hiding her face from the world. Haruto bends down to her level.

He feels a wave of frustration well up inside of him.

“Hey”, he whispers apologetically, looking at her pleadingly. “You have to get up, or else Father might beat you. I don’t want him to hurt you, so please, come”

The girl looks up from the sound on his voice. She looks at him intensely, and Haruto doesn’t know what to make of that. He tilts his head to the sides, looking at her with concern.

 Apparently, she’s satisfied with what she sees, because after a moment, slowly, she stands up. He looks up to her, in his sitting position. She extends her hand towards him, mimicking him, tilting her head to the side. It’s almost amusing.

He follows her lead and takes her offered hand, his lips curling up the slightest bit for the first time.

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

When All might sees the sludge villain under the bridge, cackling and hurting something, he doesn’t waste a thought as he sprints there with One of All and defeats the villain in a single punch. Immediately, he contains the villain into one of his bottles and secures it into his pocket- he’ll have to drop this off to the good ol’ detective.

He sighs. Of course, he doesn’t know why he expects his detour to be eventless, because it just keeps happening, but nonetheless, Nighteye can wait. It was a small attack, but he could imagine the amount of casualities this would cause.

How much people could die, and no one would know.

But he was here, and no one had to die.

“I AM HERE”, he booms reassuringly, grinning at very much no one. His twin golden bangs flutter against the cool afternoon air. The bravado falls flat.

Oh. Okay.

Then- at the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of a black-haired girl, who was very much unconscious. He doesn’t have to think when he sprints to her side, checking for a pulse.

Oh damn. She got caught up in his punch.

He silently pleads with the gods, if there was one, hoping the girl wasn’t well, dead.

There’s still a pulse.

Maybe there’s a god after all.

He sighs in relief, and he gives her another once-over for potential injuries. He notices the very distinct scars her face, and he wonders just how she got them. It reminds him how much people who still suffer, even with him here.

The scars are old.

She doesn’t seem to have any new injuries, and now, he doesn’t quite know what to do. He blinks his golden eyes, thinking as he sets her up against the bridge, keeping a steady eye on her.

(She looks around Mellissa’s age.)

 He could always assist her it to a hospital- but she didn’t have an apparent injury, and he really was running out of time…

He taps her forehead. Of course, he could always leave her here, but then that would just make her vulnerable to more attacks. He’ll just have to wake her up.

Apparently, she has some mind-reading quirk, because as soon as the small taps reach her forehead, her eye shoot open.

“Haruto-san?”, she mumbles, hesitantly, disoriented. Her eyes give a sweep around the area. “Am I dead?”

If your dead does that make me God- Toshinori no, focus-

Her green eyes blink themselves awake, and her eyes give another sweep over the area, stopping when she meets the eyes of a kneeling All Might.

 He blinks, before remembering to grin. She freezes.

“I thought I lost you there,” All Might said, his iconic smile plastered on his face as always. His phone dings repeatedly, and he can imagine a very impatient Nighteye staring him down with his disappointed face. He had to wrap this up quickly. “Apologies for getting you involved with that Villain. I only got back in town recently and the sewer system is very confusing! But not to worry for I am Here!”

The girl didn’t reply, only burrowing her eyebrows at the man, peering into his eyes, as if she was reading his soul. She had a very blank expression, and Toshinori can’t tell what the girl is thinking. “Who are you?”, she says coldly. “I recognize you…”

“Ah! I am All Might”, he tells her, his booming voice echoing through the bridge. Okay. She doesn’t know him- and he can only imagine her thoughts when he woke up to  a big, buff blond man poking her forehead. Damn.

Theres another persistent ding in his pocket, and he wraps it up.

She’s awake, she great, no new injuries- he can leave and escape his doom! He stands up, preparing to fly his way back. “Now, I’m afraid I have to get going….”

“Sir! A moment! I have a question” Her voice is frantic, and it stops him from leaping at the last second. She leaps up on to her feet, freezing him still with her contemplating gaze.

But Toshinori really needs to go, and he can just feel One for All slipping, so he tells her a hurried: “I apologize- I must really get going-“

After that, Toshinori leaps into the sky in desperation.

 Supposedly, he should have been clear, because, fuck, the girl was persistent. She…somehow… managed to grab his leg, and Toshinori panicked (he was surprised okay?!) , trying to push her off before realizing the girl would probably die if she fell at this height. They landed on the roof of a building and the girl let out a breath of relief.

"I just want to ask you a quick question as the number one hero. Sir?" the girl said blankly. It almost terrified Toshinori how emotionless her facial expression was. Was that even possible?

No. Toshinori, you are out of time, and you cannot suffer another lecture, now go-

"I really am out of out of time, so I need to go.” , he blurts out, eying the sky frantically like a bird waintg for flight. “Shoot me a message on my website-"

“Did you really mean when you said that anyone can be a hero?" the girl interrupted him, eyes searching. “Even if they weren’t very…heroic in their past? ”

Toshinori paused.

"...Umm" Toshinori said intelligently before his entire body seized then started steaming. Shit, holy shit. He was out of time. He wasn't even going to have time to try and run to the next building and hide. Maybe he could try to slip away in the steam?

The steam cleared, and Toshinori stood frozen as he met the other's eyes. The girl paused.

Shit. Shit.  Godamnit he fucked up, holy shit-

"Is that your quirk? An increase in muscle mass?” she muttered lowly. “You can't be too strong in that form, so power amplification as well? Is it an alternate form?"

Toshinori cleared his throat, but blood began pouring out of his mouth instead. Horror crossed across the girls face as stood up straight, looking at him with a salute.

 “Sir” she barked out. “I apologize!”

"Welll…” What does he say to that? “Thank you. No need to be too alarmed though. It's nothing life threatening," Toshinori said as he took a seat on the floor, swearing chaotically in his mind. "But now that you've seen me like this, make sure you don't spread this online, even by accident."

Toshinori grimaced before he lifted his shirt. The girl burrowed her eyebrows. She tenses.

 “Sir?” she whispers.

"This is an injury I received from an enemy five years ago.” He explains. “Half of my respiratory organs were destroyed, and I lost my whole stomach. I've declined to this form because of the aftereffects of repeated surgeries. Now, I can only do hero work for about three hours a day."

"Five years ago?” she whispered, stuck into a stupor, as if she was struck “I don’t remember you…” She looks at him in the eye again, a flash of relief crossing her face. “There weren't any large-scale disasters back then if I recall correctly," the girl said in a clear voice. “Besides the Muscular incident” she muttered.

"The fight was never made public to the world. I asked that it not be made public. Make sure you don’t tell anyone.” He covered his scars with his shirt.

“I meant what I said, young lady. Every word. But becoming a hero…” he hesitated. Would it be worth it- to tell her yes, be a hero, knowing how painful, and life-threatening it would be? Should he send another person to heroics? Another person to see the horrors, and pain- the loss…the dark side of heroics?  It was hard enough, even with One for All. He looked up to her. “It will be difficult. Heroics is not bright. It nice to dream, but you have to be realistic.”

Shit, time is ticking…wrap it up, be quick-

The look on her face is blank, but calculating. She is no taller than his hip.

He struggles to smile- because now he is no longer All Might, but just a Yagi Toshinori. “But it all ends up with you, young lady. Your past will not be forgotten.” He paused.” And…though I do not  know your situation… for all I know, what you do in the present will not be forgotten either”

“Even if I’m quirkless?”, she whispers, burrowing her hands into fists.

His breath stutters. “It’s a big dream” he tells her, trying to keep his voice sympathetic, hoping his urgency doesn’t escape. “But you have to be realistic”

 -------

Muscular roars and the two. Heroes bark at them to leave- a man and a woman, both with very kind, and battle-like expressions. Izumi has accidently killed five of the civilians in her way to protect Haruto-san. She doesn’t care- she doesn’t know them. She’s wearing her disguise.

Haruto looks at her, with guilt flashing in his eyes.

 “Haruto-san?” she asks him, pausing to take a breath as the water-hose duo fight the villain, taking over momentarily. The heroes are probably going to die. She doesn’t care.

“They’re going to die, Izu”, he tells her, concern flashing in his eyes. “We’re going to assist them, if that’s alright with you?”

“Affirmative, sir!”, she says.

They fought, with Haruto using his emergy quirk to start creating blasts of energy. Izumi attacks first, aimimg at his eye, and Haruto shields her with his energy-shields from any counter-attacks. They’re turning the tide.

But Haruto, even with all of his training, gets tired.

Then the villain avoids Izumi all entirely and escapes. They run to contain him, but they don’t notice the building falling-

The last thing she remembers is the villain’s  sneer at her, glaring at her with so much hate. Red. It’s red, and angry with so much hate- theres something inside her that tells her to run, run and give up and she doesn’t know what it means-

Then the building falls.

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

Izumi doesn’t know what to think of All Might.

She has to admit: She shouldn’t have clung onto his leg, nor should she had stupidly revealed her quirklessness, a pathetic weakness- but this was the number one hero, and she needed to know from a professional’s perspective.

She…doesn’t know what to think about his answer. He was right of course, and she appreciated his wording. But…she remembered the pain which flickered on the hero’s face- her initial surprise as she watched the hero deflate. Becoming a hero seemed so…superhuman.

But there was no mistaking the grief she recognized so well, on his face. From then, everything seem to falter again.

Did Izumi deserve to be a hero?  Was she being realistic? Shouldn’t she stop trying?

Does a killer deserve to be a hero? Someone who leaves even superhumans, drowning in loss, grief, forever? She doesn’t even have a good reason.

She didn’t even care.

Her mouth twists in pain, and she clenches her fist, her free hand clutching the pendant on her neck. All those deaths…were for nothing. Because even with all those losses, she still couldn’t save him.

(No, she thinks defiantly, he’s alive. He’s not gone)

Her breath stutters, and she burrows her eyebrows.

And she can’t do anything about it. She can’t change the past.

“I’ll be better”, she promises to the pendant, firmly. “I’ll save them. I’ll protect them all. It’s the only way I can make up for it.” The air rustles against her raven-black hair as her words die out to the wind.

It’s not enough, it will never ever be enough, a voice tells her at the back of her head. And distantly- she agrees.

She can’t be a hero.

She has to keep trying. She’s not allowed to give up.

(Why. Why? Why can’t she just stop trying)

She walks forward towards the direction of her apartment, taking constant sweeps around the area, her steps, light, as she keeps her senses open.

She has to be better.

Then she hears the signs of struggle- and she can hear the crowds’ cheers and hero’s shouts from the distance, and she’s about to go the opposite way when she recognizes the sneer, the huge shout of a familiar sludge villain.

Didn’t he already get caught?

Then again, she mused, she was never awake to witness the containment.

The cheers and shouts grow louder, and a sudden wave of heat prickles her skin, loud noise echoing as she walked home in the same direction the commotion was happening.

She walks by, hidden in the waves of darkness, uninterested- but then she sees the familiar glob of green, the explosions that keep, popping everywhere, and she almost runs away- almost cowers in the familiarity of it all, and that’s when she catches a glimpse of Katskui Bakagou’s face.

His face Is contorted painfully- his facial expression twisted up, and she recognizes the fear which flashes on his face. She understands the feeling- of being unable to do anything, the way he looks at the heroes who aren’t doing anything-

He doesn’t see her. He doesn’t see the way her face dawns with a wave of horror as she just moves. He doesn’t see the look in her eyes where Izumi remembers every horrible action Katsuki Bakagou has done to her and just moves.

(she has to be better)

She didn’t know why she did that- why she could’ve ignored and left it to the heroes on the scene.

He was everything she couldn’t be- and everything she choose to never become. Every fibre of his being was a vendetta to her existence. Everything he reminded her of. So she should’ve just seen it and moved on.

(everyone hates her)

 But- the way he looked at them, the way he tries to keep fighting even if defeat is just within another second. The way he’s about to give up.

(But she’s a quirkless, worthless deku? What could she do?)

(but the heroes aren’t doing anything)

And then, she realizes with a jolt the why:  she just doesn’t want him to suffer. She doesn’t want another person to die.

(They’re letting him die)

(I won’t let him die)

Sneaking through the perimeters with practiced ease of an officer, she starts analysing the situation. Close ranged combat was to be avoided. She notes down that the slime has enough density which prevents most physical attacks. She pauses, and takes a shallow breath.

She scans a potential weakness, and stops just above her- how about its eye?

As soon as she in the radius of the attack, she can feel the heat surround her- she’s feels a sudden shock of fear. The explosions are too loud, and it’s such a closed area- She catches Bakagous eye, which immediately turns into a glare. She puts a hand to her mouth.

She’s shaking, she thinks. The villain hasn’t noticed her.

 The eye is vulnerable, she chants to herself trying to keep the fear busy, long-distance attack-

What long distance attack could she use?

Use your surroundings. She gives a sweep over the area, but theres nothing useable for her to use- of course, she was quirkless, she was a useless and she didn’t have the basics of humanity. Of course she would go to her doom- she should just leave, and leave this to the pro’s-

She furrows her eyebrows together. She has to keep trying. Her pendant is cool against her neck. She trembles- she can’t let him die.

(She let Haruto die- what’s the difference?)

She decides to sacrifice her backpack- and she tosses it over her shoulder, shifting her body weight to put the maximum amount of force against the attack and shoots it at the villain’s eye.

For a moment the villain falters, and bakagou heaves a gasp of air.

“Why are you here, idiot!” He coughed, getting some fresh air inside him. She clenched her jaw in determination.

“His eye!”, she yells at him instead of answering. “Aim for his eye-“

Bakagou tries, and she can see it from the way he jerks his head but it doesn’t work. When the slime villain finally looks at her with a glare to so similar to muscular, preparing to consume her, she almost runs away- but she’s prepared now, keeping herself at distance-

But the Slime Villian is fast, and she realizes- she miscalculated. The villain is just too fast.

(She has to stop trying)

(How could a quirkless, worthless deku do anything?)

(Why is she even trying to be a hero?)

The villain was just too fast.

There’s a gust of sudden wind- a flash a bright, golden yellow, and she remembers:

So is All Might.

“I must apologize to you…” he says to her, “Even though I admonished you. I wasn’t putting what I said into practice.” He turned to look at her. “But…now, I’m here.”

Relief floods into her system.

(Quirkless, useless Deku couldn’t even get the job done)

(But…she did something)

And for the first time, her lips perk up into something short of a smile to a stranger she just met.

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

Haruto and Izumi are by a river. Haruto tells her everything about his day. Izumi doesn’t know how to speak, so she doesn’t, only making occasional head tilts at the parts that make his voice change.

“And then- he said, Haruto” He makes his voice go macho. “You are my successor. Of course, it’s not like he doesn’t tell me this everyday-“

 “Haruto” she whispers curiously, sounding out the vowels.

He jolts. “You can speak?” he whispers back, disbelief lacing his voice. “I didn’t know that!”

“Ha..ruto” she repeats again.

“Yeah, that’s me. My name is Haruto” He points to himself. “And you” he points his index finger at her. “are Izumi”

She burrows her eyebrows. She mimcks his index finger, pointing at herself.

“Haruto” she says, with amusing confidence.

Haruto’s mouth quirks up the slightest, and Izumi doesn’t know what to make of it. (It’s happening more frequently.)

She uses her finger to pinch the sides of her check , mimicking him, creating an awkward smile. It’s a stretched out, exaggerated crooked grin, and it almost makes the cold-hearted son of Keisan laugh.

“I’ll teach you. I’m not the best but…I can ask my caretaker to help me I think”, he tells her, after he looks up, barely containing an undignified snort. “Well. I guess…” He looks at her shyly, a realization dawning him. “Haruto is your first word”

-------

A couple of pros are chewing her out, telling him that it was dumb to step in and that she could have been killed. They’re angry, all of them, scolding him and telling him she’s an idiot. There’s a camera focused onto her lecture.

“Izumi”, he whispers to her, his voice shaking.  “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she asks in confusion. “What does that mean, sir?”

“It- It means that you regret something, and that you want to tell them that- that you feel bad”

“I think I should say I’m sorry, and that I won’t do it again, but I don’t like lying” she tells them blankly, her hands still inside her pocket. “I’m only sorry I miscalculated. But I believe you should be sorry to, if that is the case. You are heroes and yet, my…classmate’s chances of surviving would’ve been close to none.”

She takes a breath, silencing them with her calculating gaze.

“Heroes, you should be better.” She says, cold anger in her eyes and the heroes back up a step. She hesitates.

(if a quirkless, worthless deku can do something- why couldn’t they?)

“Why didn’t you do anything?”

“The quirk matchup was misfortunate-“

“Don’t make excuses.” She says blankly, disappointed. “All humans have weaknesses. Use the villains weaknesses and use it against them. The quirk matchup wouldn’t matter as long as you use your brain, which I hope you would have” 

They sputter out a response.

She looks at them in the eye, admiring their quirks as she takes a once-over at them. “Goodbye”, she says, and she returns back to the scene to retrieve her bag- she finds it singed black, but it’s still in one piece. It would make do.

She slings the backpack over her shoulder, standing up straight, ready to continue her journey back home. She’s on the sidewalk, just walking.

Then she feels a presence behind her, holding her shoulders.

She doesn’t think when she turns her body around, grabs the attackers hands and pins him down in front of her, a cold gaze directed on the back of his head.

“State your purpose and maybe I’ll let you live” she snarls coldly.

“Greenie” the attacker wheezes out from under her, black hair tickling her arm. She blinks. “It’s me”

“K-chan?” She immediately releases him, alarmed as she stands up straight. “Sorry”

“All fine Greenie” The words have a certain wrongness to it. His eyes zero onto her singed backpack and then to her.  “Now. I just heard about a sludge villain?”

“You have ears.” She says obliviously, unsure of what to take away from his statement. “Excellent”

“You are a troublemaker” he tells her sternly.

She brushes a black hair behind her ear.

“I believe trouble finds me”, she tells him truthfully- and it’s true, because it always seems to do. Not like she could lie anyway.

He presses the crook of his nose in frustration.

“Believe it or not its hard to play the overprotective parent”, he chides her, and Izumi blinks in confusion, looking up at Kane. She wasn’t that tall- her head only reaching his shoulder. He sighs, patting her hair. “I just don’t want you to die”

“You must live” He struggles to look up into her face. “Live…and be free”, he says. His voice cracks, and tears well up in his eyes.

“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon” she smiles up at him, a promise hidden inside the words- he seems to know this by the way he grins back down at her, his iconic black hair slicked to the side.

“DEKU!” came a sudden shout, and Kane slung an arm over her shoulder protectively as Izumi flinched. Katsuki stormed his way towards the pair, anger in his eyes. Muscular, a distant part of her whispered in fear. “I- who the hell is this bastard?”

Kane smirked, looking down at him with his towering height. Izumi looked at Kane, not wanting to deal with him right now but also in concern, recognizing the unusual attitude she never really understood from her best friend.

“Izu’s boyfriend”, he told him playfully, swooping down to kiss her cheek as Kacchans eyes trailed the movement unwittingly. She blinked, in a stupor and Kane winked at her in a way that said, ‘play along’.  “Now if you excuse us-“

Katsuki laughed mockingly. “I wasn’t taking to you” he sneered, staring right at Izumi with so much anger-

(quirkless, worthless deku)                                               

(she’s alone- no)

( She’s not alone. Not anymore)

“I never asked you for your help! And you didn’t help me!” He shouted at her, clenching his first, glaring at her. “Got it?! I was fine by myself. You’re a quirkless failure playing with a full deck! I don’t think you can look down on me! Are you trying to make me owe you?! Damn nerd!”

“No” she told him tensely, staring him down, a shiver going down her spine. “I just didn’t want you to die” She looks away. “And…besides, if you owe anyone, it’s All Might”

Kacchan was silent.

 “We’re going to leave”, Kane said, coldly, with a commanding gaze. His feline eyes sharpened. “We’re getting late”

“Like I care! Fuck off!” Kacchan shouted, but turned on his heel, storming off, muttering angrily.

Izumi let out a relieved breath as Kacchan’s figure trailed out of sight, the tension slipping of her figure, closing her eyes as she basked in the cool air. She ran a hand through her black locks. Kane stared at her, and Izumi poked him when he did it far too long.

“K-chan” She said, turning around to continue walking. “Let’s go”

Kane grinned at her goofily, the dim light of the sun setting trailing after them as they walked of.

The next time Izumi sees All Might is in a supermarket. Of course, only being in his skinny form, he is not spared with any glances but only ones of disgust and judgment from the civilians as he shops for food. Izumi doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do when she sees him, so continues to collect their groceries.

Usually , she would collect the groceries for three, but her adoptive father, Yuto, was currently away for a business trip- in America, and the teenagers was left with two. He hasn’t come back yet.

She’s already readied all the food packages and the chocolates in her basket. She puts her grey hoodie up, her favourite, and marches over to find Soba.

Rolling wheels scrap the floor and she dodges a trolly coming by her way. Something warm clashes onto her back- blood she thinks- and when she looks up, she realizes that a boy, her age had bumped into her.

Bright green, baggy orbs stare into blue florescent eyes, and Izumi is entranced by the sheer kindness in them. He looks different- his eyes…

“Hello”, The foreign boy says softly, bending down to her level.  “Whats your name?”

She does not react with such elegancy, instead panic-stricken as she grabs his arms, and pining him in defence and almost choking him. She’s about to speak when a cold, squeaked voice, almost similar to hers speaks up.

“Let go of me or I’ll make you let go”

She freezes. She lets go of his arms begrudgingly, eyeing her spilt groceries on the floor.

“Hello” she replies, her voice monotone as she stares at the boy, trying to even her breath. He looks her age, and surprisingly, her height. His hoodie hides the red scar on his face and two-toned eyes similar to the red and white hair hiding his face.

“Hello”, the boy replies coldly, his eyes looking at her in annoyance. “Please get out of my way”

“Your way?” she repeats bluntly, in genuine confusion as she looks behind her. “I wasn’t aware that it was your property”

The boy sighs, and she tenses, holding her hands up with a two fingered position to jab him, when he goes to her side, moving past her. She half expects him to shove his shoulder against hers, only instead, he breezes past her.

She kneels to collect her fallen groceries, undeterred, and confused- but of course, her classmates must have spread the word of the quirkless deku, and she supposes that it shouldn’t come off as a shock.

There’s a presence beside her, who assists her in cleaning up, and she realizes with a jolt that it’s the same kid from earlier. She wonders what this kid wants.

They don’t speak, but Izumi is ready to fight if he makes himself even slight of a threat. But- she doesn’t really know how to fight without killing. She doesn’t want to kill anymore. At least, not civilians.

When the groceries are back into her basket, the boy departs without a word. She continues on, looking for soba- and she’s surprised once again when it’s the same direction of the two-toned haired boy.

She places two packets of soba it into her basket.

“Are you following me?”, the same boy from earlier drawls coldly, and she tenses. He narrows his eyes. “Were you sent by my father? Tell him that my rebellion isn’t a joke”

“I wanted Soba”, she said briefly, not looking at the kid. “I don’t know your father”

“You don’t know my father?”

“You have ears” she repeated, blankly. This phrase was starting to grow on her. “Excellent”

The boy frowned, but he turned on his heel without another word, towards to the cashier. She drifted after him, going to the same direction.

He only spoke up again once they were in the queue.

“Stop following me” he snapped, his fists clenching at the sides, as he stares forward. “I’m serious”

“I’m in the queue, in a public store, to pay for the groceries I picked out.”, she told him tensely, though she did understand where his frustration was stemming from. Men tended to follow her too. “But I apologize if I have alarmed you, so if it is to any consolation, I doubt we’ll meet again”

“Then…That’s good” he said brusquely. He was next in line right in front of her, and she watched him pay before walking off to leave with a large bag. She was next, and she fumbled in her bag for her credit card.

“Thank-“

She froze, her words cutting off. A person, clad in a disguise slipped from his position to in front of of her, his quirk activated from the looks of the spikes wrapping his body, as he sneered:

 “Empty the cashier and give me the cash or it’s your death”

One of the spikes shot narrowly by the store clerk’s neck.

“M’kay!”  the poor man yelled. “Just don’t shoot!”

Izumi took a deep breath.

Slowly, to not draw attention, she took the gun in her bag in one fluid motion. She pressed the cold metal to the robbers neck. She cocked the gun. From the corner of her eye, she could see the boy from earlier drift by her.

“Don’t move”, she snarled coldly to the robber, her voice alone freezing him. “Or else I shoot”

The robber froze.

“Call the police”, she ordered the boy from earlier. The man moved an inch, and she shoved the cold metal further into his neck. “Don’t move” she sneered at him lowly, her voice raspy. “Do you want to die?”

“Little shit”, the man murmured angrily, but he complied. She pined his arms against the counter, carefully avoiding the spikes, the gun still on his neck.

“On the way”, the boy told her curtly. She nodded in approval. The store clerk looked at them, trembling, but surprised.

“Don’t worry.” She told the store clerk, gently, remembering the relief when All Might said them. “Because I am here”

She grinned at the clerk, her smile forced before she dropped it bitterly. All Might was in a whole other league- she couldn’t just smile like that. She didn’t know how to.

When the police arrived, they cuffed the man, much to her relief, and departed off with an easy-going smile. She hurriedly placed her gun back inside her bag before they noticed, knowing the eternal procedures which would happen. She was only here to buy food- not work.

“Are ye’ hero-course students?”

Both of them snapped towards the clerk, who had an abashed expression.

“No” she told the clerk, when the boy didn’t. “But I will be”

The boys head snapped towards her with an unreadable expression.

The clerk smiled at her. “Hope ya get in then girle”

“I will work hard”

She held up her credit card to pay. The store clerk looked at her thoughtfully.

“Ye’ know,” he began. “I like ye’ girle”. Izumi retracted her hand, and tensed, her eyes freezing him in place.

 The store clerk scratched his beard, looking away, flushed. Izumi braced herself and she prepared another ‘I don’t date’ on the tip of her tounge when he added: “It’s on the house”

Her black locks fell to the side. “What does that mean.”

“Uh,” He paused. “I’m giving it to yer’ for free, he explained.

Scrutinizing, she looked at the cashier person, until she gave in and said a brusque “thanks”. The store clerk placed her groceries in the bag , now settled in the crook of her arm. She left, two mismatched eyes following her before departing.

“Young lady!”

Her footsteps quickened, her hands clenching into fists-

“It’s the man you clung your leg onto!”, he whispered loudly. Her footsteps stopped. She turned her head, looking at the skinny version of the number one hero. The sidewalks were empty- she hoped no one would hear.

But she knew that wasn’t enough.

“Hello, sir”, she greeted, curtsying. “I hope you are well”

The man jogged after her, panting when he was within hearing range.

“I just wanted to give you my thanks”, he told her, a smile effortlessly gracing his face- she felt a slight twinge of envy before she shut it down. “for handling the situation. Though I must ask- where did you get the gun?”

 “It was not a problem, sir”, she said, smiling softly. At least she hoped it was a smile. “I… I am cop, therefore I am licensed to have one.” He nods in understanding. “Though…what brings you here?”

The man wore baggy clothes, and though he was in his other form, he was tall.

“You said you wanted to become a hero right?”

She tensed. “I…should be realistic” she told him brusquely. “But I have to keep trying. Even if I am a quirkless..pathetic deku. But..” her voice cracks. “I can’t stop, knowing I haven’t given it my all. I’m not aloud to give up”

“I’m glad you do” he smiles softly, and somehow that seems more real than his All Might smile. “I want to help you”

Her brain shut down swiftly, before regenerating once again.

“What”

“I want to help you.” She looked at his golden eyes- sincere and…. genuine. “Honest”

“Why?” Her voice was small, and she hated it for betraying her once again. She wasn’t allowed to let it down. She looked up at him.

“Because” he stated. “I know that you can be a hero”  His tone left no judgment, as if he believed it-

“You don’t even know me” She looks at him, but there was no lie in his face. She doesn’t understand- “You don’t know me. You- You know I’m quirkless- pathetic,  deku- and-”

He puts his hand inside his pocket.

He smiles. “That’s it,” She tips her head to the side. “It was because it was none other than you who was at the scene that I was able to act.” He crinkled his eyes- and she saw a fraction of Haruto’s smile in them- “You made a difference- that day, and today. You...acted like a hero”

Her heart froze into place, and her breath hitched. Her eyes widened.

He went on, placing a hand on her shoulder- and this time, she didn’t flinch as she looked up to him in wonder, her eyes watering. Stop- don’t- don’t cry-. “I want to help you”

He wasn’t lying.

He knew she was a quirkless, pathetic deku.

And he thought she could be a hero.

(he doesn’t know everything)

“I- I” her lip wobbled. She sniffled, trembling, her eyes watering so pathetically, so vulnerable, but the way he said it- the way he told her- And suddenly the tears slipped down her cheeks.

 “Thank you” She breathed harshly, trembling, the tears slipping down endlessly.  “I- but- I’m not sure- thank you sensei.”

“Sensei huh?”, His eyes crinkled. “I know you will, young lady.” He hesitated. “And…”

She looks up to him. “Yes…sensei?”

“How would you like to be my successor?”

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

Izumi is still in a euphoric daze as she meanders home, with her grocery bag in the crook of her arm. Her legs are just barely sturdier than jelly, and her mind is an echo chamber for All-Might’s words.

You can become a hero. You can become a hero. You can become a hero.             

He saw the quirkless, pathetic deku, and thought she could be a hero. She could be a hero.

What. The. Fuck.

It’s not until she sets foot on her doorstep that the disbelieving fog breaks, and a harsh unforgiving realization hits her like a sunbeam straight to the eyes.

“What do I tell Kane?”

“Tell me what?”, a low voice says.

Oh no. He’s right there, leaning by the doorframe, raising his eyebrow, looking down at her. When did he get there?

He’s in front of her. Oh no. What does she say? What does she tell him?

She said yes. Of course, she’d said yes. All-Might, the Symbol of Peace, the Number-One Hero, the greatest active pro had stretched out a hand and offered to personally train her as a successor and pass a powerful quirk into her keeping. Because she, the quirkless, useless Deku did something that matters. What was she supposed to do, shake his hand and say no sir?

“I did something,” slips out of Izumi mouth in a whisper before she fully knows what she intends to do. “I did several somethings.”

Kane blinks, and she can tell the curiosity that’s about to boil over, but he tells her to go inside and put the groceries down before they discuss anything. Within minutes, her shoes and jacket are off and they’re sitting down to dinner. Izumi stares down at her plate sheepishly, her brows knitted together.

“Izu?” She’s not looking at his face, but she can hear the concern “You know… whatever it is, we can talk about it”

“I met All-Might today,” Izumi says.

“Okay…?” She looks up, and Kane is resting his chin on his hands. “Wait. You met All Might- that’s chill. Then…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Izumi says, looking up at last. “Everything’s… I’m confused it’s just. No. I mean. I want to tell you, but I’m not sure if I can. I don’t know.”

Kane frowns.

“Ah that’s what you meant by the doorway. That’s okay. You can have your secrets.”, he tells her, gently. “I can respect that”

“I can… tell you that he wants to train me.” She clenches her fist tightly, and her voice rises in pitch.

“What the fuck”

The fuck was a very accurate sentiment she could share.

“I want to tell you more” Izumi says in exasperation, heart plummeting. “I don’t know if I can though”

She has two options. Either she can lie to her best friend, the person she chose to involve inside her life because she trusted him and eventually find a way to explain to him when she suddenly gains super strength, or she can tell him the truth and betray All-Might’s confidence by revealing the secret of his quirk, and possibly his injury as well.

“Is there a way to tell me the rest without betraying anyone’s confidence?”

“I’ll… try.”

“And if you can’t, then… I can respect that. But… I won’t- I can’t just do nothing, Izu. You know I will fight the whole world for you if you asked me too. Except the chores. But I can respect that.”

“I know. Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “All-Might’s… looking for a successor. His quirk… um.” There’s no getting around this one. “He can pass on his quirk. He asked me to be his sucessor.”

Kane drops his chopsticks with a clatter. He stares at her, shocked speechless.

“I… I told him yes.”

“Woah”

“Yeah” Izumi whispers “But. He gave me an opportunity I’m never going to get again. What did you think I was going to say?”

“I….” Kane clenches his fist, closing his eyes.

“I really want to do this.”

“I know”

 “I don’t think I’m gonna get another chance like this, Kane. I...” Guilt bubbles up in her throat, and she feels tears prick at his eyes, because her impossible dream is suddenly within reach but he might say no. “I almost didn’t tell you, but… I can’t lie to you if I suddenly got a quirk and-”

“Izumi. I understand” His voice is soft. Izumi can’t tell what he’s feeling, and that scares her. “Except- This is – this is life-changing, Izu. And you’re only fourteen. I don’t know if this is a good idea. You are going to get fuckin-frigging targeted, and it’s going to bring attention. Do you – do you even know what he has planned?”

“All I know is All-Might wants to train me, and this is the only solid chance I’ve ever had to become a hero.” She tells him honestly.

“Zumi-”

“Kane.” His voice breaks. “I can do this,” Izumi tells him “I know I can. I have to try. And Kane, if I don’t take this, if I don’t try, I’m gonna regret it forever.”

“I...” Her breath hitches a little, and he lets it out in a sigh. “I… I know, Greenie. I know. And I know that if I stop you, then… I’ll probably regret it, too.”

Izumi blinks, suddenly wide-eyed. “You mean...”

“You are a trouble-finder,” He tells her sternly. “You…You would’ve gotten into a whole fucking lot of chaos anyhow.” Gently, he cups the side of her face in his hand. “But…even so…I’m not going to stop you. Will this make you happy?”

She hesitates. She doesn’t really know. What does happy feel like?

“I think…I…I don’t know”

“Will it make you satisfied?”, he prompts.

“I think so”

“Well.” After a moment, he offers a little smile, and somehow it seems even brighter than All-Might’s. “Well then.  Just don’t forget that you’ll have me by your side too, Greenie. Your going to be hell of a good hero”

She covers her mouth with her hand in a resounding slap, choking out a sob. She can’t stop it- Izumi can’t stop the tears from falling down- because – the words she’d always wanted to hear- because- because they believed in her-

They believed in her.

-------

“Do you have a name?” Haruto asks her, bringing her outside in his mother’s garden. The girl doesn’t respond, only stares at him blankly, tipping her head to the side. “Ah, I see”

He looks at her kindly, taking a seat on the grass. “Would it be okay if I were to give you one then?”

She blinks her bright viridian eyes, her green hair spilling messily to the sides. He hums. The distant sound of the spring of water catching his attention as he searches the garden- flowing eternally with the constant flow of water. The flow that kept going forward, no matter the weather.

Izumi.

He looked at the girl curiously, letting the name roll of his lips.

“Izumi.” He beckons, and the girl looks up, no expression on her face. “That’s your name” he breaths out, the air blowing gently against his blue hair. He looked at her, in her rags, how tired and broken she was, but still standing. He beckoned her to sit beside his, putting a hand on her shoulder. His eyes crinkled. “II have a feeling you’ll live up to your name, Izumi”

She stayed silent, but Haruto could’ve sworn that he saw her lips mouth “Izumi”.

Chapter Text

“This is Dagobah Municipal Beach Park?” she asks All Might, barely hiding her shock. “It’s a landfill”

"Indeed it is a beach. This section of this beach has been like this for years. Due to the currents, a lot of pollution ends up drifting onto this beach. There are people who also illegally dump their trash here secretly instead of properly disposing of it," Toshinori said, eyeing the young girl warily. She wore a hoodie, over her red shirt and black shorts.

“Some of these things can be fixed and reused.” Izumi offered blankly as they walked deeper through the heaps of garbage.

"Perhaps they can, and perhaps they can't. As it is now, people don't bother to approach this place."

“How would one clean this all up?” She asks. “I don’t believe I can simply gather the trash in plastic bags and go dump them properly. I've seen at least eight vehicles on our way in”

"For now, I just want you to remove all of this debris off of the beach. The parking lot and road area all overlook the beach, so as long as you get it up there, I can arrange for them to be picked up over time"

So, she started.

She wasn’t scrawny, considering her police work and past, but she never really got the time to build up actual…muscle.

10 months. That’s the deadline.

---

“Young Midoryia!” All Might jogs towards her, panting slightly, and he holds up a pair of thick gloves. He’s in his other form, and it almost surprises her on his ridiculous lack of stamina, until she remembers that this man was missing a whole damn stomach and half his lungs.

“I almost forgot-“ He wheezes. “This- thing- I almost forgot-“ He put his hands on his knees. “for your safety when you” He sputtered out blood, and she wasn’t fazed. “weight lift the trash”

For a moment she just stares. All Might struggles to recover his breath. Small trials of sweat beads down her forehead and she eyes the forest green gloves that resembled the moss on the various lumps of trash. She pauses, and the massive bicycle creaks in her hand. All Might looked almost nervous as she continued to look at him with an scrutinizing, intense gaze.

 He…thought about her safety?

The fact was enough to ring warning bells inside her head. Even more, he talked to her as if she was someone worth talking to- the fact that he even smiled at her was strange enough. Why? What does he want? She wants to shake the answer out of All Might and demand his intentions until he says something that’s actually logical.

He can’t be this genuine. He can’t be this nice to someone like her.

She almost denies it. She almost ignores him and goes back to work- but then it strikes her. It wasn't like the harsh strikes of thunder- it felt like the soft cleanse of the rain just, washing over her so gently for such a truth.

All Might already gave his reason. He already gave her the answer.

That’s it. It was because it was none other than you.

It baffles her. It confuses her in ways she never thought about before. But it was certain....All Mi-Yagi Toshinori  really was different from her trainer back with her kidnappers - this was a different side of society.

 He’s not using her- he’s helping her.

She sets down the creaking metal bike. And for once, she accepts the gift, and without realizing, her eyes soften into warm eyes that Toshinori has never seen before from her emotionless face. Her intense, scrutinizing gaze fades by the short whistle of the wind.

“Thank you”, she says, and she means it.

------

“Hey, Toshi- Sensei… I just realized something” She walks hesitantly to Toshinori. “Well…can you teach me how to…spar?”, she asks Toshinori, after building up the courage to do so for the whole day.

“Spare? Sure” He scratches the back of his neck. “Are you sure? I mean- I’m not exactly the best teacher…but if you say so, I’ll do my best, Midoryia”

She gives him a small smile. “It’ll be a learning experience for the both of us then” The blankness of her voice has been chipped off, but the cadence of her millitaric-like voice hasn’t faded. “So…where do we start?”

----

Izumi doesn’t want to go to school. But she does anyway, and she dreads the moment she steps into her uniform, walking to school alone, leaving the comfort that Kane radiated.

An hand slams the wall behind her, and she looks up to see the colour of flames. She feels herself freeze up.

“Who was that bastard you were with?”, is the first thing Kacchan sneers to her, after he catches up to her, alone in break. Muscular- explosion-

Her body aches, and each movement burns her limbs as she looks up at him.

“Someone you don’t know” she tells him blankly, and somehow his red -muscular- eyes pierce her, like that glare- the buildings falling-

She freezes, closing her eyes, regally. Her black hair is pulled up into a small ponytail, stray black hairs falling down from the sides. “I’m hungry. I want to eat. Please move”, she says tensely, in a small voice.

He shoves her away from him. “Whatever”, he snaps. “See if I care, Deku”

She can breath again when she no longer sees the red eyes which pierce though the corners of her mind. She sprints away to the courtyard, in her hidden hideout where she ate alone.

--------                                                                                                                           

She’s being shoved again.

“What does Deku have here?”

A scoff. “So stupid”

“Stay away from the Quirkless deku!”

She holds her head up high, moving against the current of people, knowing fully of what they spoke. What’s new?

 It’s not like she never knew.

“Pathetic”

“Worthless”                                                         

It wasn’t as if she never knew, she repeats. What's new? She struggles to keep her eyes facing forward, her hands firmly by her sides. More jeers, but one sticks out the most. She wasn’t supposed to hear it, but the painful truth rings in her ears.

“Just save us the trouble and just die already, deku!”

Whats new?

(It still hurts)

And at last, she gives in, and lets her head hung down low, trying to make her way through the crowd of people as she tries to leave. She doesn’t want to fight them. She doesn’t want to kill them.

They’re all right anyway.

(You want to hurt them)

(Quirkless, pathetic, worthless deku)

She clutches her pendant under her uniform, shaking as she makes her way outside.

(that’s not true, a small defiant part of her argues- she’s Izumi)

She doesn't hear it, the roar of her fighter drowning out in the voices of the many.

---------

The world likes to remind her of the pain.

It when the police station receives a call. The officers are being sent to constrain another ‘villian in making’ and they inform the officers to dash to the scene. Causing havoc in a particularly peaceful neighbourhood- the sirens are blaring, and Izumi wears an emotionless, authoritative expression. Her freckles are covered by the makeup, to make her appear older, and her hair is held up in a bun.

She looks professional in her uniform, and Kane is right beside her with prepared vigour.

The fire is consuming a small, mundane house, currently drowning in the water poure dover by a nearby firefighter. Heat prickles her skin.

“Set up the tape! Damage control squad! Huntress, escort the victims! Hunter-“

She hurries over to scout for the civilians- but it turns out that she doesn’t have to. A teenager, tall with bags under her eyes sprints over to her, the smell of rich, fresh smoke trailing after her and she can see the traces of weariness and exhaustion  in her features.

 “Take him away!” the teenager begs, trembling, and Izumi catches her body as the lady falls to her knees. “I can’t deal with the villain anymore!”

The wording, though strange, alarmed her. Her face was blank, and she scanned the body over for injuries- none. She must’ve had a connection towards the villain.

“Don’t worry, ma’am” She says formally, hoping her word choice comforted her. “Everyone at the scene is specialized in containment”. The lady looks hysterical, collapsing onto her knees.

“Do you have any injuries, miss? How may I help you?”

The faint sound of her co-workers setting up the tape, fills her ears, the faint crackle of fire simmering by. The lady gets herself out of Izum’s arms, and just stays there, sitting, trying to what seems like breathing.

“Jut- get the villain away from me” is what she says, exhausted. “I’m alright. I managed to get away.”

Protocol states that she has to interrogate her, to figure out what happened at the scene, but she doesn’t think she should do that until they reach the police station, just by looking at the girl.

“Just a warning ma’am, until further notice, I’ll have to escort you to the nearest police station” She informs her. The woman’s eyes widen, a notch, and she adds. “Your not in trouble, we just have to find out what happened in the scene-“

“I did nothing- it was all the villains fault- I- ”

“I understand ma’am” she tries to soothe, but her regal, emotionless tone doesn’t do anything but vaguely sound threatening. She settles for a calm hand on her shoulder, grounding the lady- it seems to work, she thinks, for her cries have silenced.

There's a rush, and she doesn’t know what to do. She informs the lady to be escorted to the car, but the lady insists to see the villain constrained with her own eyes. She allows that, but as soon as she takes a glimpse, she's going to get inside the car.

They’re waiting, and the time ticks by like a ticking bomb.

Then, at last, the police come out of the house, and the lady leaps up to her feet, stretching her neck to find the villain. Strangely, the villain isn’t in chains, nor is being constrained in cuffs. Instead, theres a 4-year-old boy in their arms, who seems to be crying.

The lady backs up, and the baby’s whimpers, a soft echo in her ears. She stifles a gasp, knowing this, understanding immediately.

“Mama!” he blubbers out, hiccupping. “I’m- I’m sorry mama, I didn’t mean to!”

The mother shakes. “No! I can’t-“ She turns to Izumi, crying. She didn't expect the child to run up to her, Izumi thinks, she only wanted to see him a final time. The mother- the teenager’s eyes full of regret, the colour of stormy clouds carrying the burden. “Please!” she sobs. “Take him away! I can’t do it- I can’t take it anymore. The rent- his father left- I don’t know how I can support the both of us anymore- I don’t- I don’t know anymore”

“I assure you ma’am, I will do it to the best of my ability”

The teenager sobs, curling up. “Take care- take care of my baby”, her voice cracks hauntingly, hiding her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry” A murmur.

Who- who was in the wrong? This was the villain?

“Mama!” the kid shrieks, tumbling over in the firefighters arms until he breaks free. He runs towards her. “Don’t leave me mama!” he blubbers out. “I- I don’t want you – I don’t want you to leave me too!”

The teenager recoils back painfully, as if she had been shocked.

 “Get- Get away from me, villain!” she snarls, standing up as she scutters backwards. “Don’t touch me!”

The kid shakes.

“Mama?”, he asks in a small voice, his voice trembling “What…What are you doing?” His eyes are wide, shining in glassy tears as a thought strikes him.

She doesn’t answer, and Izumi doesn’t know which course of action to take.

 “Do- Do you…hate me?”

The boy looks far too much like the little boy she saved, on the streets with pale blue hair, with grief colouring his eyes- looking far too much like him for such a young boy who should’ve had a better life.

So, when the mother’s snarl curls between her cheeks, it hurts her too.

“Ma’am” She stresses, going towards the lady. “Please- That’s enough- I will escort you to the car”

 There's no bad guy. The threat- the threat is only a little kid who lost control of his quirk. Only two humans, lost in a storm of emotions, alone. No, not alone. She’s here.

She escorts the lady to the car, but the child follows her. The police try to get the child, but he sends torrents of threating flames towards them. The lady doesn't speak anymore, just avoiding staring directly at the child's haunted face. The lady is snug inside the car, and she leaves the rest of the job with Kane.

“Huntress!” A cop of the damage control squad jogs up to her, avoiding the diminutive flames coming his way. The kid doesn’t leave her side, horror etched on his face. “You have a record with handling the child quirk offences, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Affirmative”

“We’ll leave the rest to you then. You’ll be handled with the responsibility, and many thanks”

“I understand, sir”

The cop marches away, and she eyes the boy. The child looks up at her fearfully, and she doesn’t know if she should smile during the job. She softens her eyes though, and  takes the child's hands, leading him away from his mother, who is silent as his tears dry on his face. He’s trembling violently, curling up upon himself as she lifts him up in her arms hesitantly.

“Miss?”

“Hello” The 4 year-old girl bends down to look at the boy, curled up near a trash can. He’s frozen, staring up at her with wide eyes with the colour of the blood seeping out of what should’ve never been. His pale blue hair dusty with mirth and his small figure hidden in rangy, dirty clothes.  He’s dirty, alone and looks really sad.

He looks like someone who needs help.

She sits down beside him on the pavement, her viridian hair bouncing as she smiled softly at the kid. She holds up her sandwich, tearing it into two.

“Do you want a sandwich?”

The boys lips part open to say something, before settling into a hesitant nod. Her grin is as radiant as the beaming moon. She hands over a piece of a sandwich, and he takes a hesitant bite, before huger overcomes him and he gobbles it up shamelessly.

She blinks. “Do you want another one?”, she asks kindly, hugging her knees. Her skirt probably would get dirty from the amount of dust that settled in here, but her mama could always wash it. No biggie. “I’m not that hungry”

Then that sandwich got eaten up too. The kid looks up at her shyly, scrutinizing her.

She smiles softly and puts a hair behind her ear. “I’m Izuku! What’s your name?”, she asks.

The boy bits his lip. He doesn’t give an answer, staying silent. He scrutinizes her, narrowing his sharp, red eyes. After a moment, he speaks up, in a childish, raspy voice:

“I’m…I’m- Ten-“

 The rest is a blur. She doesn’t remember his name. Only the soft hue of red, bloody eyes.

“Does mama hate me?” the kid whispers to Izumi, his childish voice ringing painfully in her ear. His fiery hair is singed with the ashes of the flames. A child- a child should never have to ask that question. That moment of vulnerability- she bits her lip, her eyes watering. “Ms. Officer?”

She forces herself to crinkle her eyes into something of comfort. The boy’s red hair is held up in a small ponytail, with ashes stuck onto the folds of his singed clothing.

Take the villain away from me!

Take care of my baby.

“I don’t know”, she says, truthfully. Her tone, though blank, sounded vaguely threatening. “What’s your name?”

The kid’s watery eyes blink furiously. “Tom….Tomodachi”

“That’s a nice name. You can call me…” Her codename? It didn't seem real- so instead, she settles for, “…Midoryia”

“Okay…Officer Midoryia”

The boy hides himself in her arms, and she notices that he’s really light- lighter than what a normal child should weigh. She’s at a loss of what to say next.

“That’s... a nice quirk you have there”, she tells him , going for the compliment approach. She immediately regrets it.

The kid wails. “No!” he whimpers. “It’s bad! It’s a villains quirk! I’m a villain!” he sobs.

“No, you’re not” she states, blankly. “I’ve met villains, and they are nothing like you, Tomodachi- kun”

“But I made papa leave mama! I- I can’t control my quirk!”, he wrings his hands onto her shirt. “I make mama cry and- and- I keep burning everything!” He shakes, with truth colouring his voice, as if it was easy as the sky was stormy blue.. “I’m a villain- I- are- because I make everyone hurt.” His voice cracks, and tears slip down his face. “Mama’s going- Mama’s going to leave me too, and you- are going to arrest... arrest me and it’s because of- of this stupid quirk! And- I- I don’t- never wanted this!”

She…doesn’t know. A part of her wants to tell him how lucky he is to even have a quirk- but the rest of heart, the rest of her every being resonates with him and…and she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do.

“Do you want to control your quirk?”

He hiccups. “Of course!”

“Then one day, you will be able to control your quirk.” she tells him matter-of-factly, blinking the stupid sudden soreness of her eyes away. She doesn’t know what to say. “And- and even if your mama leaves-” A hitched breath. She doesn’t want to lie. “then…she will leave. But…but it- it doesn’t mean she won’t come back”

“But…. That’s not going to make mama stay! I’m- I’m going to be all alone! I don’t want to be alone!”

She wants to cry, just from the way the kid looks at her with such anguish and abandonment. She holds the kid’s hands. “You’ll have me, and you won’t be alone.” She tries to say, soothingly. “I…I want to help you, so- so I’ll make sure you get into a very nice orphanage. You’re my responsibility now”

“I- I don’t even know you!” the kid hiccups, his voice raising higher in pitch “How is it going to be any different?”

She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to say. She doesn’t know.

She looks away. “Did…you try it yet?” The kid shakes his head, begrudgingly. “Then you’ll never know the answer to that question- because you’ll never know for sure until you try”

The kid clenches his hand into a fist. “That’ isn’t enou-“

“Officer Huntress!” her superior barks. “Retreat back to the station once you’ve made your verdict on the threat”

Her head whips to the man. “Affirmative”

“You see?” The kid whispers. “I’m a threat.”

Izumi searches desperately for a response. “Tomodachi-san, with all due respect, do I look like I’m scared of you?”

He looks at her, scanning her as if she knows the answer and whispers. “Not…really”

“That’s right” She says. “I’m not scared of you. So…well, you’re not a threat to me.” She smiles softly. “And won’t be a threat, nor a villian to the world either” She pauses. “Do you wanna know why?”

He nods, hesitantly.

“If …” She thinks of a scenario, and she remembers Kane spilling milk in the kitchen because the idiot thought that the milk was somehow going to stay glued to the glass. “someone spills milk in the kitchen, does that make them a villain?”

“Obviously not. But- but this is different-”

Izumi cuts in. “But doesn’t that make the milk a threat to the kitchens cleanliness?”

The kid blinks. Silence. After a moment he says, “Yeah- but- but no, it's different- .....you can still... clean it up”

“Exactly” She agrees. “Just like how you can still control your quirk. Threats…Threats are basically just problems that need to be solved. So, you just solve them”

“I dunno” The kid wipes his eyes. “Will that make mama come back?”

“I-“ She looks away. She doesn’t want to lie- but that little glimmer of hope in his eyes- “Maybe, once you manage to control it, and once your mother feels better…then I can- I can arrange something”

“Really?” The kid perks up for the first time, tears falling down his eyes. “Are you lying? Is that true? Mama will come back?”

She pats the kids head, guilt overwhelming her, just looking at him. “She might. So… you have to try your best to be a good boy.”

The kid whispers something she doesn’t hear. She drops him off at an orphanage and is about to leave when the kid looks at her, begging her to stay - it keeps her until night-time, her eyes blinking the traitorous tears until he finally falls into a slumber, holding her hand tightly, as if he’s afraid that she’ll leave.

She makes it back into the station, and they scold her because she’s late. But they get the documents done, and they send her off.

It's not when, until she makes it to the beach, for extra training when she allows the diminutive tears to fall down..

Tossing the trash away, burning her limbs as she cries softly for the kids, for the people who didn’t deserve what they got.

(She can’t do anything about it)

“Why me?” she cries out in a grief-stricken murmur. “Why was I the only one who survived?”

She shakes furiously, like a metal rumbling to the beat of grief. Her breaths are quick- the moon is shining down at her, alone. She heaves in a heavy breath, throwing another garbage into the bin, sweat mixing with her furious tears. “Why did he have to suffer in my place?”, she chokes out, collapsing in exhaustion, unable to breath. “Why- Why does everyone have to suffer?”

There is no answer. She sniffles.

The tears are dry streaked on her face when she returns home in their apartment, sweaty and full of grime. She doesn’t sleep that night. She doesn’t sleep most nights.

---

There are people. Strangers inside her home. It’s full of panicked footsteps and quick, curt screams which haunt her ears as she leaps in front of [blank] with her hands curled protectively. A body- a pool of blood clothing, her mom. A shriek.

Mama’s blood pours out, like a never-ending fountain, splashed on her five-year old daughter’s clothes. She’s shaking, and she wants to run away, but [anonymous] looks scared, frozen by the bad man’s quick and she can’t bring herself to flee. But there’s nowhere to run, and- there’s nowhere to hide. This will be a quick end for the five-year old, she’ll go down fighting, and she’ll see her mother again.

“I won’t let you hurt him!”

A low, raspy chuckle. “You already have”, the faceless man says, striking her with every word. “Don’t fool yourself”

“It- It won’t stop me! I…. I’ll make sure that you- that you won’t make my mistake!”

 “Foolish child”

Chapter Text

“Ma’am, move-” a strikingly familiar voice says, coldly, before she cuts him off. She flinches. She still flinches, just like back with her caretakers  where every movement meant that she made another mistake. She still flinches. She still feels herself freeze up when a stranger speaks to her. She still feels the urge to run away. She still finds herself frozen when movement falls flat.

She still feels afraid.

Her teeth clenches together with a clack.

“I have no intention of engaging in marriage in the near future” she says, when his voice trails off at her tone. It’s firm, dangerous and nothing but threatening. Her back was turned, her fists clenched by the sides. Her eyes narrowed as she turned around to gaze at another suiter- how many so far? The last one, stubborn, and she had just managed to get away. Her lips pursed, her eyes sharpening with the intensity of an unbared beast. “So please, with all due respect-”

She cuts herself off as she catches a glimpse of the soba-boy. There’s no other way to describe it, really, the way her voice dies out, they way her body freezes in recognition, and the way her pale lips clamps itself up, as if she had been about to speak something so unfathomable instead of respectfully asking in PR-speak to kindly fuck off.

Her eyes scan him up and down, taking another sweep of the room, making sure that her memory hadn’t misguided her realization. But- she trails the scar on his cheek, and his unique hair…eyes, stopping at the utter coldness- a normal person wouldn’t have those eyes, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

(those eyes that looked so much like hers but simultaneously so different-)

Surprised, she takes a step back, and she drops the intimidating frontier. She doesn’t release her fists though, and her eyes are as blank and dark as ever.

The boy staggers, mirroring her actions. He gives her a once-over as he blinks. She watched his eyes trail on the prominent zig-zag scars running down her face, the very same scars that she usually hid with makeup.

She speaks first:

“I…certainly didn’t expect to meet you again” she says airily, the bite replaced with a regal cadence, and she curtseyed with almost royal-like perfection. “Greetings”

A black tuxedo and black pants tucked itself neatly onto the Soba boy, enhancing his looks and colour combinations making every action look ethereal. A snowy empire-waist dress hugged her figure, which lucky for her, was the most practical and comfiest outfit that the requirements had to offer.

It made her feel more prepared to know that near inside the folds of her dress, were the multiple stash of weapons that made itself home. Strange enough, there were no metal detectors.

Her hair was held up in a tie, which let her raven hair flow down until her shoulders, mirroring the hairstyle to the brave hero in Toshi- sensei’s photograph.

Her scars though. Her scars were the one thing that were so deliberately different, the poisoned river of recollections running down her face unforgivingly, was what set the differences apart. But her adoptive father, Officer Yuto, thought differently, even going as far to say that it made her seem more… older, making her stick out more in the party. It looked ugly on her. So damn ugly.

The cacophony trapped her in, in all sides, nowhere to run, like puppet strings hung over her body with all her limbs tied up. Only her mouth was untied, but even that wasn’t the slightest comfort, for her breaths were so loud, everything clouded her senses into overdrive, she couldn’t keep track of everything- so many people- so familiar-

She clenched her arms behind her back.

“The feeling is…mutual.” His voice was carefully guarded, and he looked at her with unwittingly charming eyes, glancing at her scar every now and then, unknowingly. “What are you doing in this…party?”

She gritted her teeth. “Standing- Standing up and talking to you” she glanced away. “And you?”

“No- I mean, why are you here?” He burrowed his eyebrows, looking at her. “Who…are your connections?”

She froze. “And…And what would you need that for?” she stated, gracefully. She gestured to the table. “Would you like a biscuit? I find it quite delicious”

“No thank you”

For the majority of this party, all she had been wishing was for someone to look at her and think no, God please say no. Despite that, all they saw was yes, yes she was their new target and locked behind the illusion of their eyes and sweet honeyed words were the unfathomable intentions that she barely escaped.

The cacophony tied her ears to the background, her eyes scanning every single spot of the wide party, her constant diligence for each change in each millisecond kept her head buzzing and her body exhausted.

He was the key to her escape. If she somehow found a way to keep herself busy with someone else, they would back off- it was only respectful for an esteemed guests. It was perfect- she just needed someone. She didn’t know anyone- Kane was busy, and he was the only one she trusted.

But he knew that she had a weapon. The soba-boy knew that she wouldn’t hesitate. He knew that she wasn’t submissive. That was enough.

She shouldn’t be surprised to hear the no- especially during the time when she needed yes.

But the conversation wasn’t over. Scrambling at the back of her brain, she recalled the numerous amounts of soba packs he bought. “Then would you want Soba? I can show where they are” She offered, pinching her arm.

The boy scanned her face, and though his face was cold, she could see the slight look of realization trace his face. Her face was effortlessly blank, but so was his, and she wondered if this was how it was like for someone to converse with her. Then, he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Where?” , he said.

She nodded to the direction at the corner of the party in response, where her stash was hidden. It wasn’t a no. It wasn’t a no.

He wordlessly followed her as she glided over to the table in the far corner, where the chatters dimmed down and was quieter. She let out a relieved, diminutive sigh.

 She took a plastic bag out of her bag, showing the soba packs she had packed. She offered a packet. “These…are mine, but I don’t need it”

He took it with a slight suspision, along with the plastic spoon and fork. She noticed the way his eyes narrowed scrutinisingly at her. “…Thank you” he murmured. He spoke up. “But I’m not interested either, in engagements. Do not attempt to make an advance on me, woman.”

 She perked up, and he muttered something else under his breath, but it was too low for her to distinguish.

“I am grateful for that.” She said, considering the intent behind the statement. “However, are you hinting for me to leave?”

No. She didn’t want to leave. She can’t. So many people here just wanted her body. Everyone here had ulterior methods- they wanted proposals, they wanted a clear connection to her adoptive father, and everyone lied just to get on her good side.

 How many liars was she passed along with the last 30 minutes? How many times was her privacy, her boundaries exploited?

 This boy….he knew that she had a gun hidden underneath her dress and knew that she wouldn’t hesitate to whip a gun at a perverted boy in defence. Not that she would shoot it.

He stared at her. “Who cares?” he drawls, lined with a certain cadence of authority and power. “Just now that if you do something that would threaten anyone….” He let his sentence drawl on. “Know that you aren’t the only one without a weapon up their sleeve”

She set her bag down, hiding a small smirk, and when she looked up, she raised an eyebrow.

“I’m glad were both are on the same page”, she said, blankly. Her eyes pierced through his soul.

 “Alright” he said, calmly, turning his head to glare pointedly at her face. Both eyes were glued on one another, both recognizing the challenge that hinted in their blank faces.

 For a moment, only both knew that a battle of superiority was taking place, and they both stared, waiting until the other backed down.

His mismatched eyes had the narrowed intensity of the flames dancing in his eyes, his natural duo-coloured hair slicked back, and his scar was on the left side of his face- the opposite to hers, for hers was on the right.

For a second, she saw a child in the eye within the scar.

She took in a slow breath and the boy forced out a cough inside his hand. Then they both looked away.

He didn’t say anything else, only sitting down, by the table. After a moment, she gathered the courage to take a seat, placing her bag in her lap. He stopped.

“Is this drugged?”, He asked, calmly, sniffing the food. A look of intimidation crossed his face and felt small under that scrutinizing gaze. “I want the truth”

“It’s not drugged”

He raised an eyebrow. “Poisoned?”

“No. It’s not poisoned”

The boy stared at her a moment longer, before giving her a spoon.

“I don’t believe you” he said evenly, back straight, and he almost looked like a king.  “Take a bite.”

She turned her blank gaze towards him. Take a bite?  Scanning his face, it clicked. Of course someone would think this was drugged, especially if it was from a stranger. Good for him- because if he had eaten something drugged, high chances were, that he would be shipped off like her to the human trafficking industry or be raped and killed.

She understood.

Taking the spoon, she took a bite-sized scoop, and ate it. It melted in her mouth, and she lit up, chewing the piece of soba. She was already aware of the prolonged, scrutinizing stare of the boy, having been tracking every move of everyone at this party. She was glad for the diminutive crowd in this area- it exhausted her to keep watch of everyone around her.

“Is this enough proof for you?” she said, after a few moments. The boy looked at her coldly. “I assure you, it’s not poisoned, nor drugged.”

“You said you were going to UA, right?”

She narrowed her eyes at the sudden subject change, recalling the incident. “It’s none of your concern” she said.

“If you’re training to become a hero, you better not have done anything to my soba”

She opened her mouth to speak, then decided against it. He didn’t need a response.

He took his fork, and ate his Soba, the look in his eyes lightening at the taste. She blinked, and she kept her back straight, scanning the area once again, diligently. People wouldn’t wait for her to let her guard down.

A strand of silver hair entered her vision. She recognized the familiar perfume that trailed under her nose.

A man came her way- the bastard she had narrowly avoided.

“Don’t give me away”, she said, out of the blue. It came out wrong. It implied something else then the actual meaning she intended.

The boy blinked slowly. He slurped another piece of soba, undignified, and uncaring, much to her relief.

“Give…you…away?” He repeated.

She calmed her breaths. The suitor plastered a fake smile on his face. “It regards my first statement with you. Not to worry, I’ll…I’ll deal with this myself “

“Greetings” A velvety tone breathed in a flirty tone by her neck. She flinched. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Huntress-chan”

“Don’t touch me” She whispered regally, but dangerously. She held her spoon like a weapon, and Hisoki knew that she wasn’t lying. “I’ll kill you”

“You won’t!” Hisoki teased through his teeth. “You didn’t let me finish last time- “

The scarred face boy, sighed, and Hisoki’s head snapped towards him, annoyed.

“As you can see” He looked up with irritation, abandoning his interaction with his soba. “We are having a conversation. It is disrespectful to interrupt.” He tipped his head to the side, uncaring. His gaze looked like he could control the blood in Hisoki’s body “Leave”.

“Oh!” Hisoki faked mock surprise. His silver hair hung by his eyes. “I didn’t see you there. What is Huntress-chan doing with you?”

 “Talking.” Todoroki’s cold eyes never left the poisoned honey of Hisoki’s. “Leave.”

Izumi glared calmly at Hisoki, who put a hand on her chair.

 “Of course, not” Hisoki said smoothly. He crinkled his eyes, looking at her kindly. She knew it was a lie. “Can’t I borrow my friend?”

Another time, she would’ve agreed. Another time, she would’ve left with him without a second thought and might’ve even smiled at him. But there was no another time.

“Hisoki-san” Her voice sent shivers up their spine. She stood up from her seat. She inhaled a sharp breath. “I believe …that, that is my decision to make.”

“And regardless” the boy drawled smoothly. “my answer would’ve been no”

Hisoki tipped his head to the side and eyed the both of them, as if contemplating their relation. Hisoki’s silver hair, almond eyes, strong jawline, and height rivalled Kane. And then, suddenly, his eyes sharpened, and everything was too dangerous to breath on.

“Of course!” He cheered. He leaned in by her ear, and whispered quickly before she could punch him: “I know where you live, Izumi”

“What are you doing?” A voice snarled. A form towered Hisoki. “I thought we agreed that my sister is off limits”

“Aww, you take out all the fun, bro!” Hisoki whined “Sorry Hunter-san! You too, Huntress” He grinned goofily, putting extra emphasis on ‘hunter. “Couldn’t resist.”

Kane glared at him. “You are going to die”

Hisoki shrugged, unbothered. “You say that so many times that I’m starting to doubt the sincerity of your statement” He stuck his tongue out. “From all the years we have been acquainted, not once have I died”

“Oh, not now” Kane agreed, smiling with his teeth bared out. “Each offense gives you a slower, painful death”

Hisoki grinned, uncaring. His cat like eyes latched onto hers with a warning. “See you later!” He cheered. He winked at her, and she looked away uneasily.

See you later.

“He’s gone” The boy told her, after a moment. After a moment, she allowed herself to stare at the kid. The kid looked, almost in an intimidating gaze towards Kane. “Do you want this kid to leave too?”

She looked at Kane, a line appearing in the middle of her eyebrows. She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were busy” she said, airily, scanning the area. Kane grinned.

“not anymore!” he told her. “Can I have a seat?”

Izumi narrowed her eyes further. “Fine”

He took a seat and swung an arm over Izumi’s shoulder. She glared at Kane, but it was light-hearted.

She looked at the boy. “Thank you” she said, airily but blankly, just to be nice. “I appreciate the assistance”

The boy rolled his eyes and continued to eat. “Sure, whatever”

“Huh?” Kane gasped loudly. “Greenie- did you- “He looked back and forth. “Make…friends?!”

Kane wore a grey tuxedo, with a black tie, and black pants. His hair was slicked to the side, his golden eyes shimmering in his tanned skin.

She looked away, calculatingly, watching the expression on his face. “Whether I say yes or no, you will resume your brotherly pride”

Kane gasped in excitement, grinning from ear to ear.

She took a glimpse of the boy eating faster, getting up from his seat, picking up his tray and dropping it inside the bin. Whatever.

“You- You acknowledged me as a brother!” Kane sniffled, gasping happily. He wiped his eyes. Izumi patted his shoulder comfortingly. “You acknowledged me as a brother” he whispered. He gazed at her. “Maybe I’m not a loser after all”

He didn’t seem to realize the words that came out of his mouth. His eyes were far away, his golden eyes gazing in a distant memory.

Despite the euphoria radiating like waves from him, her eyes sharpened, looking around. Deeming it safe, she leaned forward and smiled.

“Hey, K-chan” she breathed out kindly. “Who the fuck said that to you?”

“Eh?”

She smiled wider. “Who the fuck said that you were a loser?”

Kane froze, looking away. “I- Izu-“he said, sheepishly. “don’t say it with such a straight face. How the heck are you saying that so calmly-”

 “Answer the question”

“I don’t want to” he said, stubbornly.

A mini, one-sided glaring contest resumed until she gave in, sighing, and she looked away.

 “To me, you’re really…amazing” She murmured begrudgingly. “Ignore the other bastards who thinks that you are entitled to their opinion”

He stared. “That was… actually really nice of you.” He blinked. “Thanks…I guess. Just make sure to take your own advice Izu’” He leaned back on his chair. “oh and hey- have you seen Yuto yet?”

She shook her head, her face void of emotion. “No”

“Oh. Maybe next time”

“Hello Huntress and Hello Hunter!” All Might’s voice came from behind, and everyone’s eyes turned their way, watching the number one hero come their way towards her. The two-toned hair boy was among them. She flinched by a margined, and All Might’s voice reduced. “Fancy seeing you here!”

Her brain stuttered. “Fancy seeing you here…too.” She said monotone.

He laughed. “Pleasure as always”

All might sit in the spot the boy from earlier took. “Are you enjoying yourselves so far?”

Kane nodded as Izumi smiled at him.

“As you can see” she said slowly. “I’ve been better”

All might grins at her. “I can certainly see that- and Huntress, not that I’m complaining, but” He gestured to the party. “I am curious to why you are here?”

She hesitated. Her adoptive father was a secretive and closed-off man. “Officer Yuto wants us to go in his place, for his business trip would be extended” She paused. “…. for reasons unknown”

“Hmm. I wish you all the best” All Might cheered. He wore a tuxedo like the boys, with brown pants. Though they had seen each other every week, it was still a surprise to see the Number One hero instead of the Tohinori Yagi that she’d come to know.

“Are you both ready for the entrance exams?”

“No” she sighed, calmly. “I’m going to fail”

Kane patted her back. “You haven’t even done it yet Greenie.” He said sympathetically. “Just let time tell”

“But I have a really good feeling that everything is going to go wrong”

“Just try, Izu’. Just try”

Izumi’s back was straight as she stared on ahead with a stoic face, the red lined scars illuminated by the dim light.

“Fine.” said she, reluctantly. “I’ll try.”

---------

Bit by bit, the beach horizon clears. Trash and junk and litter give way to the white sand beneath, and for every heavy bag of garbage and broken appliance Izumi hauls away, the next gets lighter.

She can barely remember how it feels to wake up in the morning without sore muscles, but it gets easier.

Memories tend to hit her at the strangest of times, reminding her to be on her guard and that life will never ever get easier, even if it did feel like it, because it was all just an illusion waiting to fade away. She remembers her most repressed memories at night, and those are the times when she doesn’t sleep, just staring at the wall, cleaning the room in hyperfocus to look for threats and cameras.

She gives the broken sedan a wide berth during the day. She trains, studies, cleans up the beach, and is relived when the pain catches up to her, because those are the times when she doesn’t have time to feel scared. When she’s not doing any of these things, she analyses and tries to sleep.

The entrance exam creeps closer. The garbage on the beach dwindles. Her body grows buffer with muscles she thinks that must not be real.

She cleans the beach. She works during the day with All-Might’s supervision and with her best friend, because she has a feeling that someone, a threat might suddenly pop out of the garbage. She cleans far more than All-Might asked of her, clearing the white sand and the horizon.

The entrance exam is a week away by that time, Izumi can sling a refrigerator over one shoulder and tuck a broken air conditioner under her free arm and jog both of them from the beach to the pickup at an easy pace.

 Izumo remembers the memories when she’s studying, when she’s jogging, when she’s strengthening her grip under the table, and when she’s lying awake at night, thinking about whether she should hide her face scars and waiting for sleep to take her away. It’s like her own damn mind is against her. It hasn’t gotten easier- only, she’s been better at hiding the pain.

At six in the morning, the week before the entrance exam, Izumi stands on clear white sand and drowns out her cries by screaming her frustration at the sunrise, because she just wants a damn break from her head.

It sticks with her in the back of his mind, persistent as a mosquito in the room and it hurts like fucking hell.

 She’s almost glad for the excuse to punch a giant robot in the face(?) because at least that gives her a period of blessed distraction. Even if it does more or less destroy her arm and legs in the process. She comes out of Recovery Girl’s presence half-certain that she’s blown it all, ten months of hard work down the drain, and for the first time in at least five of those months, she takes a sick leave from work.

All in all, Izumi doesn’t know if she should continue trying.

---

Against all odds, she gets in.

It surprises her, initially when the letter of All Might himself in a projection tells her that she passed with 5th place with 10 villain points and 60 rescue points.

She didn’t know whether to celebrate or be… ‘happy’ but she remembers staring, dumbfound as a brown-haired girl appears in screen, vouching for someone like her to be a hero, potentially sacrificing her own position for…her.

She doesn’t believe it. But U.A doesn’t make jokes and that scene was real, because that brown-haired girl with the gravity quirk almost sacrificed her position for stupid scarred face, deku- Izumi, who couldn’t even control All Might’s damn quirk.

What is wrong that that brown haired girl? Is she insane?

Despite that, it still lightens up the dark voices in her mind, by a small margin.

All-Might meets her at the Beach, his hand held up for a high-five. Izumi blinks at it for a moment, freezing, bracing herself before realizing Toshinori wasn’t going to strike her. Who would she be to leave the Number One Hero hanging?

“My arm broke,” Izumi says, trying not to talk too loudly “And my legs. Was that… supposed to happen?”

“Figured it might.”

There it was. Of course, she knew she should’ve remembered that everyone was out to get her, of course All might would eventually figure out the Deku wasn’t worth it. Why did she dare to hope?

“Oh” was all she said, in a hushed whisper. “I understand if- “

“It can’t be helped,” All-Might goes on, unaware of her demise. “You’re strong enough to be a vessel, but you’re still a raw beginner at using it.”

Izumi manages, just barely, to disguise a bewildered sob as a cough.

“Something the matter?” All-Might asks.

“Yes. No. Allergies.” Izumi forces her face straight again. “May you elaborate? About my arms? Well, more of my legs. I can understand my arm, I mean I punched a huge robot in the face- but what about my legs? All I did was jump, and I completely disabled both of them-”

“Like I was saying,” All-Might interrupts. “You have a quirk now, after living your whole life without one. You’re not gonna be an expert at it on Day One – because those six months don’t enter into it, kid. That was your first day of possessing One for All, and that makes it Day One.”

“You could’ve warned me,” Izumi mutters.

“You’re right” All might sighs. “But I didn’t want to worry you with possibilities I haven’t encountered. Besides, it worked out, didn’t it?” All-Might jabs her lightly in the chest, making Izumi look him in the eye. “Remember what you told me, about being stronger? Well, you were right. You do have to be stronger. You’re gonna have to work harder than any of the other students. Them, they’ve been living with extra limbs and laser vision and what have you all their lives. Your first hurdles behind you, but you’ve still got a long way to go.” He bends a little, so that they’re eye to eye. “And I promise you, I will help you get there, understand?”

There’s a swelling feeling in her chest as Izumi nods vigorously.

"And on that note," All-Might continues, reaching into his pocket. "There's something I wanted to show you. I wanted to show you earlier, but... well, look." Izumi steps closer, and All-Might holds out a pair of photographs. They're both pictures of Izumi a before-and-after comparison to show off her progress. In one, she's the skinny kid she remembers being. In the other, taken the morning that he finished cleaning the beach, she's filled out her own frame, replaced scrawny arms with defined musculature.

In both, her face scars are shown the most prominently.

" Your progress speaks for itself." All-Might pauses to look her carefully in the eye. "Remember, you got to this point through your own hard work. It’s gonna take more hard work to keep you moving forward from here. The stronger you become, the better handle you’ll have on One for All. It will take work, and it will take time. But for now… you’ve earned a break. Enjoy it while it lasts and keep your strength up. You’re a Yuuei student now, and they don’t let up for beginners.”

She knows this.

“I won’t let you down,” Izumi blurts.

“Good.”

They’re about to leave. The moon is high and bright, and Izumi buzzes with eager energy and glowing pride, and if it weren’t for those two things, she thought she would’ve imagined it all.

It’s a chance in a million, really.

Because Izumi, the murderer, the ex-villain, the quirkless pathetic Deku, was chosen to be a hero-in-training in the number one hero school…U.A.

Didn’t they all say: Plus Ultra?

---

Izumi is no stranger to fear.

She’s an expert at fear. She breathes through a pounding heart, eats through demons in her head, and barley sleeps through the screams and weeping in her head. When fear comes knocking, she greets it like an irritating roommate and goes on with her day.

And yet, when Bakugou’s glare burns a hole in the back of her head, she wants to run. When Bakugou follows her outside, she wants to hide. When Bakugou grabs her by the shoulder and shoves her up against a wall, she wants to curl up and wait for him to go away.

 But she can’t, not with Bakugou holding her upright, mere inches from death- a longing instinct to attack him from the moment he laid his hands on her body. But she can’t. So instead, Izumi feels herself freeze up again.

“What dirty goddamn trick did you use to pass the exam? Answer me, you little shit!”

Izumi doesn’t answer. She can’t, not when her tongue is locked in her mouth. It’s all she can do just to control herself to not attack the damn threat. It won’t happen. She won’t do it. There’s no way for her to do it even if she wanted to. And she won’t, because even if she wants to murder him- muscular- she can’t, because this is just Kacchan, and if she does, she’ll be just like them.

All he’ll do is yell like he always does. All she has to do is wait.

(Pathetic Deku, can’t you see your chance to make sure he’ll never see another shred of light again?)

“-you fucking listening to me? I was supposed to be the first to get into Yuuei from this shitty school! And you pissed all over that!”

Izumi stares at him, silent and frozen and as blank as TV static. She won’t do it again. It won’t happen. Bakugou’s grip on her shoulder is tight enough to bruise, just like - her trainer who carved the scars onto her body like a damn hobby– the beach where she trained, where she bled and puked and sweated for six months until the day of the exam.

The mantra fades, and frustration puts new thoughts in her head. It wasn’t a trick. It was me. I earned it. All-Might said so. It’s not about you. It wasn’t a trick.

“I told you to go someplace else, you fuck!” Bakugou shakes her roughly, and the back of Izumi’s head knocks against the wall behind her.

You are entirely in my mercy. Can’t you see that?

Izumi locks eyes with Bakugou again, unblinking, all her senses muffled.

“Why are you a hero?” she asks.

And Bakugou is the first to blink.

“What-”

“Does it make you feel like a hero, to hurt someone who won’t fight back?”

Bakugou’s eyes narrow. His lips curl, showing his clenched teeth. “What the fuck are you talking about-”

“Does it make you feel strong, beating on kids who don’t have quirks?” Part of her, a small part, is screaming at her to shut up before she loses control and make Bakagou angry enough to hit her. But what will that do? It’s just a hit. All it can do is leave a bruise or make her bleed. “Does it make you feel brave, when they’re scared of you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou snarls, and Izumi sees sparks and smoke in the hand that grips her shoulder. Her skirt flutters from the angry wind.

The worst – the very worst he can do to you, is kill you by accident.

“You’ll have to,” Izumi says without thinking.

“I’ll have to what?” Bakugou spits back.

“Kill me. If you want to stop me.” Haruto smiles to keep the fear at bay, so Izumi tries it, and smiles at Bakugou, teeth bared. It’s easier than she thought. “If you don’t, then I’m going to Yuuei.” Izumi watches Bakugou’s eyes in the same way she’d watch the lights of an oncoming train. “Or do you just want me to cry, Bakugou? Will that make you feel like a hero?”

Bakugou lets go.

It’s weird – for a moment it’s like Bakugou hasn’t even noticed he’s let go. But he does, and he seems almost surprised when it happens.

Movement returns to Izumi’s legs, and she leaps away from the wall and out of Bakugou’s reach. She doesn’t run. She walks, and Bakugou doesn’t follow.

---

Izumi wears the UA uniform in a state of confused bliss, as Kane waves goodbye with fake tears like a single mother when he fussed around with her hair. Her hair was held up in an intricate, messy bun which somehow, due to Kane’s magic, looked good on her, with the blue tips of her hair enhancing the uniqueness.

She hadn’t seen All Might- but for all she knew, she would see him today after school.

Choosing to hide her face scars with makeup, her bright green eyes were stark in contrast with her tanned face and black hair.

“Kane!” He turned, as he fastened his tie. “Should… should I hide my scars?”

“It’s your choice milady”

Her blue pendant, bright as the never-ending sea’s was tucked into her collar, as she clutched it.

A gasp, a yell- clatters of objects tossed around in a flurry of anger and betrayal. There was a hushed whisper which stood out from the screams and the searing, soul shattering pain. Blue hair stuck in all angles, covered in bright, crimson blood.

“I’m sorry Izumi”

What is the limit? Which orders could simply be not be done? Where do they draw the line?

Chapter Text

Finding Classroom 1-A is easy enough. The classroom has a huge, towering door at least three times her height, with a red A painted from top to bottom. It’s nearly impossible to miss.

However, finding the courage to open said door is an entirely different matter.

Izumi takes in a breath.  It’s fine. She has a quirk now. In here, she’s not Deku, just a new student. It’s going to be alright.

I’m doing it for me, and for you, Haruto. I won’t fail you again.

She reaches out and grasps the handle. An image of Kacchan and the boy with glasses she’d upset at the entrance exam pop into her mind’s eye, and she swallows thickly. More chances to be destroyed.

She already has enemies. And…it’s not new.

Izumi plans to hide in the shadows, and avoid everyone, however, Kane tells her to give people a chance. She disagrees, until he adds: “You gave me a chance, and now we’re best friends”. So, she has to make an effort. Just a little.

“Pathetic Deku”-

“You have a very bad habit of getting in my way”

It almost shocks her. But his presence was already made known from her constant hyper-focused paranoid state. It does surprises her to an extent, that the monotone, snappish boy was her peer- that they would be a constant in each other’s lives. Oh no.

She tenses.

“Hello” she says in an emotionless tone. “It’s a pleasant surprise to see you again” She turns her head to look at the pale boy.

 He looks shocked, but she presumes it’s from the lack of her scar. Her scar was her trademark, and a distinct appearance for her kidnappers to find her and…she didn’t feel safe with it on her.   

She looks away, hesitating, reminding herself of Kane’s words. She holds out a hand.

He doesn’t respond, only tilting his head to the side with bleary, dull eyes.

“I’m Midoriya... Izumi”, she says, but it doesn’t come out in the friendly way that Kane would’ve hoped.

An unreadable emotion crosses his face. The boy stares at her hand before saying a cold: “I’m not here to make friends”

She clenches her jaw in frustration.

“I’m not here to change your mind” she states, equally cold. Kane’s echo of ‘give him a chance’ lingers in the air. “But…it is beneficial to know a potential rival’s name”

The boy is silent. She almost feels intimidated by his aura, but…when you’ve grown up with the things she’s seen, this doesn’t compare by a margin. Both of their face are blank, and it’s hard for Izumi to trace the emotions in his eye.

The boy reluctantly shakes her hand, looking away. “Figure it out yourself”

She tenses. “Is that a challenge?” she bites back.

He hasn’t let go of her hand. If anything, his hand has become colder- and tighter. Like a warning concealed in layers of cunning threats.

“Yes.” He replies and his expression is stoic. It seems as if he’s consciously tightening their hand hold. He narrows his eyes in a way that is silently intimidating, looking down at her from their slight height difference. “Now hurry up and let go”

“You’re not letting go either” She narrows her eyes, burning into his two-toned eyes. His eyes are the colour of the calm before a storm, with the intensity of dancing flames and snowy storms co-existing in one person.

They’re eyes connect with almost impossible threatening glares, until they recollect themselves. The tension in the air becomes too much. They let go at the same time. They both look away.

Its silent, until he scoffs. He puts his hands inside his pockets. “Whatever”

She doesn’t respond, only taking another glance at the boy before opening the door, irritated. Why give someone a chance?

There’s a sudden clutter of noises. Despite herself, she flinches, clenching her fists.

“--wrong to put your feet on the desk!” the kid with the glasses is yelling, slicing the air with his hands as though for emphasis. She flinches- hard – at the noise again, though why she still does, frustrates her. “Don’t you think it’s disrespectful of our senpai’s and the UA?!”

Kacchan smirks at him. He makes no move to take his feet off the desk.

Izumi watches the scene, and a small part of her dies on the inside.

There’s something she’s always been good at: being ignored. Most of the time. She’s taught herself how to blend into the shadows and make sure that her caretakers don’t notice her breaths and movements because each memory of her existence gives them another steppingstone to exploit her and lessen what little interactions she still had with Haruto.

She moves across the room to the back and the irritating boy follows her. She still doesn’t know his name, so she replaces every blank with soba boy.

The rest of who she assumes are her new classmates don’t give her so much as a second glance, chatting and talking with one another, introducing themselves, the likes. It’s seems too normal for the best Hero Highschool.

Izumi almost makes it to the back of the room without incident, and the boy sets down beside her. Why next to her?

And then, a loud resounding thump echoes behind her, startling her, as she turns her body around to see Kacchan remove his legs off the desk, slam his hands forcefully on it, and glare at her with narrowed eyes. She feels herself freeze up.

 “Oi, Deku! What the hell are you playing at?!” He demanded as he angrily approached the black-haired girl. They were both in eye-level, Izumi lifting her head to look at him gently with sharp eyes. “We’re not done yet!”

She looks away.

“No” she says, impassively. She drifts off to her seat, attempting an escape as he stormed towards her, the two-coloured boy staring after him with calculating eyes.

“Kacchan, it’s not the time to do this, alright?” She asserted - This is different, she has a quirk- she is not Deku- no one knows yet- except him- so just pretend. “Bakagou…just…don’t.”

His glare pierces her- like muscular, the last thing she saw- but she raises her chin to stare at him equally in the eye. It’s silent with tension, and…he leaves.

Just like that.

Was that all it took for him to stop?

She doesn’t want to talk to anyone else, feeling unusually exhausted, and an exited shriek by the door catches her attention.

“You got in!” a girl says to Izumi, and her smile is so bright it almost hurts her eyes. She remembers her-the kind girl- the girl who vouched for her. “That’s great! You were so awesome when you blew that robot away! It was like…” She swings her fist through the air. “Boom, and pow! It was so cool!”

 “Thank you” Her voice cracks, and she has to tear her eyes from Bakagou to look at the girl who was insane enough to vouch for her. “You conveyed an exemplary skill as well, and…your reaction time probably saved me from hitting the pavement, I would have probably left a couple scratches…”

She would’ve died. Scratches were an understatement.

(She didn’t care. The pain would’ve ended at last. For the very least, she wanted to see him again)

(But pain can morph into a different output- like twisted chards of glass melted into the blue pendant on her neck, with an imperfect, beautiful smile)

“We’re not fucking done yet, four-eyes”

“Don’t swear in UA!” the glasses boy chides him sternly. Their voice fade into the background.

The girl shakes her head.

“It’s the least I can do after you saved me!” she answers, like it’s obvious., Izumi wants to run, far away, because this optimistic, kind girl is so nice it hurts- “Anyway, I’m Uraraka Ochako! It’s nice to meet you!”

 A tense purse of her lips. “I’m- “

A lough, prolonged sigh is all that alerts her that there is another presence besides the 29 she has detected. “You’re all too noisy.” A cold, gruelling voice- she flinches, snapping her eyes towards the man.  “Stop wasting time and sit down.”

Izumi, Uraraka, Bakagou and glasses boy turn. The soba-boy is already staring at the man.

Their teacher stares back at them, the homeroom teacher of 1A, in a yellow sleeping bag.

---

Izumi’s first impression of Aizawa Shouta is strange.

Their homeroom teacher is...strict. And tired. He has eyebags under his eyes that would rival the ones that she has. She thinks that her homeroom teacher must’ve been someone who had experienced far more than he should’ve from the way his eyes look as he scrutinizes at the room.

 That’s what he seems, anyway, just from watching him and listening to him. She could always just be reading into it to deeply. Izumi has no idea what to expect from a UA teacher.

She doesn’t expect being shunted outside with her new classmates for a Quirk assessment test on the very first day of school.

There’s no “welcome” ceremony, no introduction to the kinds of things they’ll be doing during the school year; all they get is a “Follow me” from Aizawa, and then, they’re marching down the hall, all twenty of them, not really walking in a specific kind of order.

Izumi can’t help but feel nervous, walking by the back along the soba boy, but she uses the opportunity to observe the situation. The nice girl, Uraraka, are further up ahead, and she knows where everyone is going to walk, and all the possibilities that could occur as she walks behind calculatingly.

---

It’s times like this when the world reminds her of just how incapable she is of One for all.

One for All is difficult- like grasping a new muscle with a tug of the string that’s just overflowing with power. She still needs to figure out how to use it without completely obliterating her arms and legs. That’s a habit she’d rather break as soon as possible.

But she hasn’t yet, which is a problem when the first order of business on the first day of school turns out to be a quirk assessment test. Since she’s not interested in ending her first day of school with a trip to the hospital, she’s going to have to make do with what she had before One for All.

Aizawa gives Kacchan a baseball and has him stand in the centre of a circle spray painted onto the dirt. A ball-throw. She could do enough, Izumi thinks. She’s hauled refrigerators and broken cars on her shoulder consecutively for months, surely there’s something she can do--

Then, with a loud shriek of “DIE!!” Kacchan hurls the ball into the air, sending explosions behind it. The ball soars, soars, soars--and then disappears.

Could she? Is this was the standard?

“Also, I didn’t mention this before,” Aizawa says, turning towards the group again, “but whoever comes last in this Quirk apprehension test will be expelled due to lack of potential.”

Izumi’s muscles go rigid. Her breath stops. She stares with a certain intensity at the teacher as if that would make him take back his statement. It’s only when he stares back when she looks down at her feet.

She can’t lose. She has to do whatever it takes to survive and win. She still had a chance- 10 months of serious training, and her whole childhood of surviving in the front lines had to be enough

The courses start.

Izumi- she had been eating better, strengthening herself at almost every available moment, building up her stamina to levels she never dared dream of before.

 But for every test, every race, every assessment of every possible athletic ability under the sun, there is always someone better. There is always someone, or two, or three or more, whose quirks are perfect for blowing her attempts out of the water. Iida’s speed lets him dominate the sprint. Uraraka’s gravity manipulation makes the long jump a joke. Satou does push-ups like a man possessed with no limit.

And she? She’s practically doing this quirkless. But she’s not last place, for the very least.

Still, her stomach turns as she picks up a ball for the pitching test. She’s almost done with the tests.

But…it’s a quirk assessment test. And- and she couldn’t even use her quirk without breaking her damn bones- and- and she hasn’t gotten the chance to demonstrate off her quirk and she’s not sure the rest of the tests will be suited for showing her quirk. But she has to use her quirk for this quirk assessment somehow.

But- but- if she uses One for All now, she’d practically be out for the day. And- and the way she’s using her quirk hasn’t been working.

She clenches her fist as she steps into the circle, staring down at the ball.

It has to change.

100 percent hasn’t been working so far- so she gets into position- and she wonders; how about less than 100 percent? She concentrates to lower the tug of the string on his quirk, and the power decreases to 90 percent- but all that power will be concentrated into one limb will be shattered because the proportion of the power isn’t suited to her body-

She shifts her body weight onto the ball, her finger lightening up with power- she would still be capable for the rest of completion- and then-

The string is cut off.

The shock of hollowness, of the split-second powerful feeling of something missing, breaks Izumi’s concentration. She loses her grip on One for All, which throws off the weight of the pitch. The ball sails forward about 30 meters before bouncing pitifully on the ground.

She freezes, and the look in her eyes are horrified.

“I erased your quirk.” Aizawa’s voice cuts through her numb, mute shock, and she flinches like a rabbit and doesn’t quite manage to muffle a quiet noise of a shock. Did she fail? Was that far enough? Among her classmates, someone giggles.

Her back straightens up, and she stares at the teacher in quiet fear.

“You failed” it’s a low, raspy voice which thunders inside her eardrums, but everything is so dark- and she can’t see a single thing-

“How...how did I fail sir?”

The blade touches the calloused skin of her flesh, and an explosion erupts from the inside of her mouth as it trails the direction down to her neck lightly.

“Do you think me a fool? I see everything.” the voice is everywhere and nowhere at once. Rope bounds her to the floor. “That is your failure.”

“I- I don’t understand sir- “

The blade comes down in a long slash. Blood- the blood is everywhere. The colour of his eyes, the colour of the only thing she saw as the sword plunged deeply into her body like the first time a certain blond boy first got his quirk.

She was not unconscious. She was awake the entire time the blade carved the flesh of a 9-year-old- and all she saw was red- red- red-

Her back does not hunch, it straightens and the red, red red, overflows her vision and she forgets how to breath. Terror, in her own way, seeps throughout her body, arranging her limbs to be deeply rooted to the spot.

“You have no idea how to use your quirk properly, do you?” The man’s voice is cold, stepping forward. Her face is carefully blank, but the look in her eyes are too much to hide.  His scarf ripples around him as if it has a life of its own. Her body tenses up the way it does whenever she sees the familiar red, red, red- “What, did you believe someone would save you if you crippled yourself again?”

I didn’t get my turn he didn’t even let me try I’m trying it’s not working I’m scared

The scarf wraps around her, jerking her forward, and another flash of panic turns her vision white for a moment. Fight or flight instinct kicks in, and as Aizawa’s voice fades to the background of her own thunderous pulse in his ears, she yanks the scarf out of the way violently, clutching her temple.

Red- red- red- you failed- I’m sorry- you can never be a hero- Deku- pathetic deku- red-

“Face it, Midoriya Izumi.” Aizawa’s voice, flat and cold, brings her out of her panic and back to the present. “With a power like that, you’ll never become a hero-”

You’ll never become a hero I can’t be a hero I’ll never be a hero-

It’s so quiet- except for the swoosh of the blade tearing her face apart as she lay there, helpless- eyes on her, no one saying a word-

You failed him again- you can’t be a hero- you’re a villain, always- have- been

Then a sudden thought erupts inside her head.

(That’s not true!  A small voice, faint. All Might said so! Kane said so! You promised, you can’t break your promise, you’re failing because you aren’t trying-)

“Stop!”

It’s a quick frantic voice- feminine - who, she wants to ask but she realizes, oh, it’s her.

A moment passes, and Aizawa’s hair falls back into his face.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a whisper which speaks louder than her actions. She can’t breathe. She can barely keep herself from stuttering. “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have- but- your judgement isn’t accurate.” She says. She looks at him with quiet defiance. “Let me- Let me have my turn” Her rage- the fear- burns and the restraints are barely able to hold herself back.

She recognizes him now- that scarf. He’s the hero- the underground hero, Eraserhead. But if he is a hero, why does he look so much like them?

Aizawa blinks slowly at her. “I can’t hear you”

“My turn isn’t over yet,” She closes her eyes shut for a second- there’s red she wants to be swallowed by a hole and never return- it’s only the first day of school and she’s already failed- Her breath shakes- and it’s so black, black- blade falling down-

Aizawa looks bored, but he complies and turns away to watch by the side-lines again.

She can’t stop shaking.

The ball is in her hand once again, it weighs down her hand like the world is on her palm- and she can feel everyone’s eyes on her as she concentrates- she’s scared, it means so much- controlling the output- finger? Right? Finger- she can still move- just the finger- and red engulfs her vision.

Five percent. Five percent-

She almost loses control at the last moment-

There's a boom as the ball shoots from her hand and into the sky. Within seconds it's out of sight. It’s far. When the boom reaches her ears, Izumi flinches- and a sudden rush of frustration and anger make a migraine erupt into her head.

The whirring of the machine goes above 700 hundred metres. Her lower lip trembles. But Her eyes sharpen, shakily. She turns her head to level her head with Aizawa. The terror escapes her eyes and flees to grasp her hand to make it tremble.

“Mr. Aizawa.” Izumi turned her blank gaze at him, nursing her throbbing finger, holding back a wince (her arm isn’t broken, not like in the exams, she realizes with triumph) Her voice was cold. “I’m… still standing.” She lowers her gaze.

Another teacher, another student hates her.

U.A was never different, was it? Why? WHY? She- She has a quirk now. Why do they hate her so?

She senses the sudden anger before she hears it.

"You shit!"

Izumi sees the blond out of the corner of her eye and acts on instinct. She flinches. She backs away as she ducks.

It turns out to be unnecessary. 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." Her caretaker- no, Aizawa says.

He nods to her. “You’re in the clear, for now. Get to Recovery Girl”

There’s no hate in his expression as his red eyes look down at her. That’s what makes him scarier. She doesn’t know.

She nods in a military-like fashion, giving him a two-fingered salute, with cold, barely collected eyes and hand trembling.

“Understood, sir”

---

A logical ruse. That was all a logical ruse.

She didn’t believe that.

If anyone of them shown no potential, they would’ve been sent home immediately. No excuses. Either you had potential, or you didn’t. If he saw her unfit, she would’ve been back to zero.

Back to disappointment. Back to being a Deku, quirkless freak.

She headed straight to the bathroom in the girls changing room as soon as she was discharged from Recovery Girl.

There is no room for failure.

Quiet. It was silent, eerily so, as she steadied her breaths.

She cradled her head in her hands, bending low, sitting down on the toilet lid, trying to recollect herself. Her hand grasped her pendant so tightly she was almost scared that it would break.  Her whisper was an echo which bounced off the walls as the door opened, rocking herself back and forth in a comforting rhythm.

“I won’t fail”

--

Bakugo grumbled to himself as he headed back to the classroom.

The damn nerd- why couldn’t she just stay in her fucking place?!

And what was with that sudden change of heart, eh? Since when has she chosen to call him Bakagou? He was not worried, he was furious. Only, it felt as if she had broken an oath both of them had made when they were little kids, instead of just fucking finally calling him the right damn name. Not that he cared. He didn’t care about that damn deku at all.

Bakagou notices the figure by the hall, halting his frustration before another wave of anger rises. He had figured the others would have gone straight to class, but there scar-face stood, leaning against the wall, with an eerily calm expression, looking straight at him.

“Hey,” Todoroki was the first to break the silence of the hall. Son of the number two hero. So, this was him? This was his competition? He watched him warily, rolling his eyes.

“What the hell do you want, Candy Cane?”

Todoroki looked at him and Bakugou paused. There was a cold kind of anger in the other boy’s eyes, one that set Bakugou’s senses on high alert.

He took a step towards the blonde, a sneer on his face.

“Try to hurt Midoriya again, and I’ll freeze you so deep in the ice it’ll take the teachers a week to thaw you out.”

 “The fuck did you just say to me?” Explosions popped inside his palm. “Mind your own damn business. I’ll do whatever I want to Deku.”

“No, you won’t,” Todoroki said coldly. His eyes held something deeper inside them- one that Bakagou didn’t understand. It felt as if Todoroki was talking to someone else. “As far as I’m concerned, bullies have no place in this school. All your screaming and shouts are disturbing the rest of the class. More so, the one you call Deku. She has a name.”

Of course he already knows this. So what? Who cares? He certainly didn’t.

 “Do I look like I care?” Bakugo snarled.

“You don’t. That’s the problem” Todoroki takes a step forward. “Let me say it again so you can understand; just because you need to overcompensate for where you’re lacking as a man, doesn’t give you the right to treat others like dirt.”

Who the hell does he think he is to order him around?

“Who the hell do you think you are!” He barks, anger clouding his brain, too furious to notice the ringing in his ears.

Todoroki almost hesitates, but he doesn’t, and instead he narrows his eyes. “It’s called being a decent human being.” He says. “Learn how to be one if you want to be a hero”

He can’t think of a smart response, so he does what comes naturally to him and snarls. “Fuck off”

Todoroki opened his mouth, but chooses against it, turning back-faced. Explosions pop by the palm of Bakagou’s hand.

When he blinks, Todoroki disappears. The only sign of his brief appearance was the thin layer of frost surrounding the school walls, and Bakagou growls.

You can’t look down on me. I can’t be looked down on again.

His growl dissolve into angry mumbles, unaware that Todoroki was still watching him as his figure faded across the corridor.

Chapter Text

Bakagou breezes past Izumi when she walks on the sidewalk, looking down at her feet and berating herself under her breath. She stares at his retreating figure. He’s mumbling angrily under his breath, but he isn’t shoving her on his way out.

Izumi continues getting her way back- it’s none of her business, she tells herself, but she can’t help but feel surprised. She had been sure that he would confront her after school…

She wrings her hand, and her bones crack in response. All Might’s successor and whatnot, she doesn’t feel any different. Sure, she has his quirk now, but it felt more like being an imposter, hogging something that isn’t hers, and it doesn’t feel like it belongs to her.

Wincing at the sudden stab of pain that rushes up her arm, her eyes dim. All Might said that he had mastered it after a few tries- without breaking his bones like she had. How did he do it?

“Deku” Bakagou growls, behind her, looming over her hunched figure and her spine snaps up straight, her head snapping to his level.

She lets out a noncommittal whimper, unsurprised. She should’ve expected it-

“What the hell was that, eh?!” He isn’t shouting but his tone is accusing. “Explain yourself!”, he yells, as if she was somehow in debt to him.

That gets a small rise out of her.

 “I’m not entitled to answer you” she says, lowly.

He huffs and marches in front of her. “That’s not the answer I want”

 “Then leave”, she says, firmly. As if following her own advice, she begins to walk away, testing the waters as she looks over her shoulder to glance at Kacchan.

He glares at her when he notices, and snarls. She looks away, and walks even faster, but from the sound of his insistent footsteps, she knows that he won’t leave her be.

“I’m still talking to you, deku!” he’s yelling- finally, the normal, usual explosions pop by his hand, hovering over her shoulder and she freezes- the normal violence is comforting, in a toxic, roundabout way, but it’s okay, because …. why is it okay?

They’re in front of the school, so close to the gate and there isn’t anyone around to witness freeze up in terror, staring at his hand. She’s afraid that she might get burnt again, by the agitating explosions, like that day, remembering the dancing flames and profusion of sharp scourges that piecred her, the blasts, the tremors, the look on his face-

“Wha-“ she manages to sneak out a barely uttered phrase before he snaps at her.

“I bet you had a real laugh, lying to everyone like that, looking down on me, Deku” His bloodshot eyes bore into hers, his explosive hand popping by her uniform, and she feels a distant instinct to run- but she can’t, not when he’s so close, freezing her in place, not giving her any room to move- “Thought it was fucking over for your opening act?”

No, no, no, she thinks, she hasn’t lied to anyone, she’ll never lie, she can never become them- but she has to lie, because she has to protect All Might’s secret, but he can’t understand that, she can’t tell the truth-

“Here’s the thing, you fucking liar” he spits out, and she recoils, as if the phrase has physically struck her. He goes on, nostrils blaring and- to her shock- anger covering up the moment of weakness, but she doesn’t linger on it long, only sees the hatred swell on his tongue. “Quirk or not, , you’re still a  fucking deku, you are still pathetic- so don’t try to think you have a chance against me”

“I didn’t lie” she says, firmly but her voice no louder than a whisper.

“Then what the hell was that quirk?” he argues, not believing her the slightest, and her back hunches, her eyes hardening into dull, lifeless orbs of darkness. “What the hell was that fucker that messed up your arms like that?”

This is a good chance to get the excuse out on the table, she thinks, distantly, among the profusion of thoughts, and she grabs it like a lifeboat.

“My body couldn’t handle my quirk,” she tries to explain, her voice steely, but she’s sure that she’s trembling where Bakagou can’t see, and she’s lying with disgusting, believable mirth, and there’s no reason for him to not believe her- she’s lying on her own accord. “I’m a late bloomer” Her tongue tastes like lead as she goes on, her voice rising in volume, her hands beading with sweat...  “It was only after I built up muscle…after I got stronger that hi-“ she catches herself, and  his hangs in the air.  “My quirk manifested.” He stares at her disbelievingly. “I didn’t lie to you, Kacchan,” she says again, and it sounds real, but it’s a lie, she’s lying, she’s lying-

He scoffs, and her heart stops - what if he’s figured it out? What if he saw through it, through her act, and All Might- she swallows thickly.

“Don’t think you’ve somehow come to my level, Deku” he snarls, cutting through her thoughts like a scythe blade through an acre of wheat.  He believes the lie, she’s lying, she doesn’t want this power- “You’re still nothing but a pebblestone in my path”

She nods, but she’s not looking at him.

“You got that?!” he snarls. She doesn’t respond, flinching. At the corner of her eye, she sees a girl behind him, who’s curiously observing Bakagou’s offensive stance against Izumi with narrowed eyes. A furious hand clenches her shoulder, and she looks up, dully.

The girl would misunderstand- this was only Izumi and Bakagou and this…was normal. But that girl was insane.

“Let go” she murmurs. “There’s someone behind you”

“Like I care”, he retorts as she expects him too, but she doesn’t want the girl to misunderstand, this was normal, this was okay, this was her punishment-

“Hey Bakagou!”  Uraraka snaps, marching with loud, purposeful footsteps.

“Gravity bit- “, he begins.

“Midoriya” She interrupts, smoothly, sliding in front of Izumi, removing his tight hold on Izumi and keeps her steely eyes on Bakagou. Izumi stares at the girl, crestfallen. She really is insane.  “ I didn’t think you were still here!” Her tone is strained. “Now, I’m going to borrow Midoriya-chan here, so go ahead, Baka-gou”

He stays in his spot, and stares.

“I said go ahead, Baka-gou”

Finally, he speaks: “No one orders me around”, he spits.

Uraraka places her hands on her waist and stares him dead in the eye.

“I’ll be the first, then”, she says, calmly.  She walks towards his seething anger, her hands clenched into fists and stops just by his face, and Izumi takes a step backwards. “I don’t care who you are, or what the fuck your quirk is, but you are here in UA, a hero in training” Her aura is murderous, "and bullies are not tolerated here, explosion bitch”

“Mind your own fucking business, Gravity”, he snaps.

“Mind your own, explosion boy, but I guess we both can’t have what we want” she spits back. Furious, she takes Midoriya by the arm and marches away.  Kacchan glares, seething. Midoriya lets Uraraka drag her, more bewildered than afraid to react.

“You shouldn’t let him talk to you like that, Midori-chan” Uraraka fusses over her, not letting go of her arm, Midoriya staring on with dull eyes.

“I know” she says, emotionless.

“Either way, the audacity!” Uraraka goes on, furious, not noticing the slight tremble of her arm. “Thinks he can do that without any consequences, ‘mind your business’, he pisses me off already” Uraraka scoffs. “I can’t believe he tries to do that in U.A, even so towards you.”.

“I know” she repeats, under her breath.

Uraraka turns her gaze at her, and her eyes soften. They stop walking, and Uraraka releases her tight grip on her arm. “Are you alright?” she asks, softly.

Is she alright? The simple question baffles her. She doesn’t know, it’s a part of her that has never left, plaguing her, her entire life, and whether she’s alright or not doesn’t matter. It’s simple.

 But her mind screams. No, she isn’t alright, hasn’t ever been, never has been alright and it unfolds the bind over her eye slowly as if Uraraka has stolen her mask with no way to ask for it back.   

“No” she says, instead, her voice barely concealed from the slight tremor. “I’m Izumi Midoriya”

Uraraka stares, unable to discern whether she was serious or joking by her blank, emotionless tone. Then she breaks- cackling.

“I never knew you had a bone of humour in you, Midori-chan!” she cackles. “It’s such a bad joke, but it’s so funny pffft-“

“I’m not joking” Midoriya protests, blankly. “I really am Izumi Midoriya”

“I can’t tell if that’s a joke or if your actually serious about this”

“Unless your ears are fooling you, I am indeed serious about this, and indeed my name is truly Izumi Midoriya” she says.

Uraraka stares, and shrugs. “Whatever you say”

Izumi diverts her gaze, and contrinues her stride. Uraraka jogs to catch up to her.

“It was a good thing I bumped into you!’ she says, casually and Izumi tenses. “You were really badass with what you did at the softball throw!”

Izumi nods, not knowing what to say other than wanting to leave.

“So…” Uraraka drags out the o. “Can I call you deku-chan?”

“What”

Uraraka freezes at her cold tone, but she goes on, voice wavering. “I thought…well, I know it means…worthless, I suppose, but I think that we can change its meaning”

“Elaborate”

“Take back your name” Uraraka urges, nervously. “Think of it as a way of silent defiance, to show that explosion boy who’s boss, cuz’ his insult ain’t an insult anymore.”

Silence.

“I don’t understand” she says.

Uraraka backtracks, nervous. “I mean you don’t have to, of course” she says. “It’s up to you, but just a suggestion”

Izumi recognized this- a challenge of her dignity. If she said no, then that would mean she was being unreasonable. It wasn’t as if Uraraka was wrong.  On the other hand, it would be hard to look at this girl and not think of her as an enemy.

Why is she being nice to her anyway?

“Why are you doing this?” she asks instead.

“Because…” Uraraka fiddles with her thumbs. “I don’t want to see you like that, so…well, uh- “

“The truth” she presses, firmly, her eyes freezing Uraraka into place, scrutinizing over each action. She won’t be deceived into trust again, won’t fall into that spider web, never again…

“I just want to help” Uraraka says in a small voice, guiltily, wondering if she’s said something wrong. “Honest-”

“But why are you talking to me?” That’s not the answer that she wants, it’s vague and can mean hundreds of possibilities. “Why help me?”

Uraraka’s face dawns in realization. “Because you helped me. I’m returning the favour…. though I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job- “

“When did I help you?” she snaps, unable to understand her motives. And then- oh, the Entrance Exam. This was that insane girl- she almost forgot. “Oh”

“I guess you forgot, heh” Uraraka says, sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “The entrance exam…I was that girl, who was…stuck under the debris” She looks ashamed, but she keeps her eye contact. “This is my way of returning the favour” she says, seriously. “I want to keep in contact with you….as friends, if that’s alright”

Izumi looks at her, really looks at her, and her eyes catch the small tremble of her lips and the glazed fear in her eyes, reminiscing something that’s already ended.

Kane had told her something like that, when she had asked him the same question.

“I’m not gonna be in debt to you, Greenie” he had hissed, but there was no bite. “Whatever you think of me, I am a decent human being, and I know my boundaries, so don’t think we’re friends.” But in the end, he had wormed himself into her life.

“I see” she says, vaguely. “I’m not going to stop you”

Uraraka shoulders slump in relief. “You’re pretty terrifying, Deku-chan, did you know that?” She eyes Midoriya warily, but she’s not giving any sign of disapproval.

“First time someone’s said that to my face, I believe”

“I guess so.” 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."

"As well as I am" she says, gathering the courage to look at her in the eye.

Before she can apologize, Uraraka laughs. "Alright!" She punches the air " See you tomorrow!"

Ironic, the last time someone said that to me, he left the next day….

She can’t bring herself to return the farewell, so she bows her head in retrospect.  Uraraka leaves.

She looks up, and the sky is turning orange, while the humidity clenches her figure. For a moment, she breaths.

---

The next day rolls by in waves of sunlight, but Izumi is already up and stretching her aching limbs. Her eyes burn, but she’s gone so used to the lack of sleep and energy that she doesn’t find it unusual. She gives a sweep of the sterile room and exits through the blank but superficially clean door.

She goes through the small hallway and kicks the next door open without knocking.

“Wake up, mongrel!” she yells, giving a wide berth of the room and then goes inside. She sees Kane’s body draped over the bed; his body folded in half like a piece of crumbled paper under what looks like a comfortable blanket. He’s still asleep.

Rolling her eyes, she gives out a long-suffering sigh and snatches the blanket out of his grip- she watches him groan at the lost warmth but doesn’t wake up. She opens the curtains and the rays of light run through the window.

Still, this lump of cells stayed asleep.

 With the ease of someone who did this habitually, she shakes him expertly, and she scrunches her nose at the pungent smell of his drool, leans into his ear and shrieks on the top of her lungs.

“WAKE UP, KANE TSUKUDA!” There, she thought victoriously, that should do the job.

Silence. Crickets chirp. He shifts, changing position and snores peacefully.

She huffs. That oaf was still asleep. She stares at the clock at the corner- 10 minutes until form room would start and she’s here doing a mundane, stupid task of waking this idiot up. She couldn’t even leave him here and eat breakfast without suffering the consequences. He was the cook, not her- there was a reason she avoided the kitchen. Seriously, why did she even put up with him?

That wasn’t even a good question, but still, she was annoyed. Glaring at the sleeping giant , she resolves to the backup plan- the one she avoided at all costs unless it was truly necessary. This was a case that required extreme measure of action.  She looks at her newest weapon- her fingers- and stares, almost grinning at the target. Oh, he would regret not waking up, oh dear absolute morning sunshine. She could almost hear herself cackle.

Softly, she wriggled her fingers suggestively. Slowly, her hands crept on thin air towards the hollow of his arm. Slowly…waiting…creeping upwards, inevitably, and it made its mark when it dashed towards the smelly home nerves, tickling and brushing it. Kane was absolutely helpless when it came to tickles, mwah haha.

The effect was instantaneous.

A choked breath of surprise. Kane’s eyes snapped open and shook furiously with mirth, staring at her with open mouthed shock as she hummed in satisfaction. He shot up, registering the intense waves of tickles, chortling under her attacks, helpless to the chocked giggles that rose up his throat as he protested readily because Mr. Sunshine was finally awake.

“I’m awake-“  he tried to say between his giggles, but was instantly held up by another wave of ‘serves you right’ tickles “God- Izumi- NO hehe- stop-“

It was only when her ear caught the faint tick of clock by her shoulder that she stopped at last, allowing him a breather from her attacks. He blinked his eyes awake, stretching his arms and yawned. He chuckled nervously at her exasperated face, unable to make out anything from her expression.

 “Welcome to the realm of the living” she said, with such a dead-panned expression that Kane couldn’t tell if she was joking or serious. Getting up from his bed, she continued to stare. “Also, you drool when you sleep, idiot”

“Hey!” he protested, his dishevelled raven hair sticking up on all corners. He self-consciously reached at his chin, realizing belatedly that he indeed drooled in his sleep. He blinked. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at her retreating figure.

“What time is it?”

“Breakfast” She called over her shoulder, each step soundless as she disappeared from his vision. “You better be quick, or I’ll be the one cooking”

That got him moving, sprinting towards the kitchen to salvage its occupants before Izumi could cook the epitome of hell.

---

“Deku-Chan!” Uraraka calls, grinning at the sight of her new friend (?). She hadn’t been quite sure on their last encounter, but Midoriya hadn’t disapproved of their kindled friendship as far as words go. But as far as she knew, Midoriya was practically an enigma, and anything she said or did led to various, contradicting conclusions and assumptions. It was confusing.

Ochako had been concerned when the girl frozen up. Then she had been surprised when Mr. Aizawa stopped her. Now Uraraka wasn’t blind, and she saw that tremble in her body and that horrified, distant, bleary look in her eyes as if she had lost everything that moment. Present Uraraka who was thinking clearly and unbiased, still thought it was tremendously unfair of Mr. Aizawa to talk to Midoriya like that, but in a roundabout way, she could understand his critique. Past Ochako was biased and had decided and been ready to send her homeroom teacher’s ass up to space.

But Midoriya persisted. She proved him wrong. So, she couldn’t help but grin, and gather up the courage to speak to her again.

Except talking to Midoriya had been like talking to a doll- a beautiful, haunting, blank-faced girl, to be exact, which gave her very, mixed up signals. Did her stoic expression mean that Ochako was being too talkative, or was that her resting bitch face? Either way, she hadn’t known her well enough to make a proper judgement and resolved to know her better. That…would definitely be a challenge.

Midoriya doesn’t stop walking, only inclining her head, her raven hair held up in a bun which framed her face quite elegantly. “Uraraka-san” she says. Her face, like yesterday was pure blankness. She could put a doll beside Midoriya and there would be no difference. Still, Ochako can’t help but smile.

“I love the way you’ve done your hair!” She says, fawning over the way her hair was held up so professionally and elegantly and just, ugh, the fashion was just immaculate. The corridor stretches beyond her vision, but she can still see the big, plastered 1A from the distance.

“Thank you” Uraraka discovers the existence of both the dullest and kindest voice on earth. “My friend did it for me, actually. It took forever.” Midoriya deadpans. “But…he would be happy to hear that his… effort paid off”

Uraraka hums. “Sounds like you and your friend are close” she says, sensing a new topic to get to know more about her. She smiles deftly. “So, what’s he like?”

Izumi pauses. Her eyes blink uncertainly, and Uraraka can sense discomfort and mistrust radiating off her. Uh oh. She’s about to retract her statement when-

“An utter idiot.” Midoriya says, seriously in the dullest, emotionless voice she has ever heard- other than Todoroki- and Uraraka doesn’t realize she’s saying this endearingly until she hears: “He is a sunshine idiot who is way too obsessed with hair”

That startles a snort out of her. Midoriya doesn’t meet her in the eye.

“I like him already” she says.

Midoriya rolls her eyes.

Nod, nod.

“I’ll make sure to pass the message”

Uraraka did want to be her friend, seeing how the girl saved her, and fascinated her greatly, but she knew it would be hard to get her to open up. Talking to Midoriya was like trying to talk to a doll.

Silence.

“So…” She begins, eying her expression. “How are you?”

Midoriya blinks owlishly. Uraraka takes this a sign of deep pondering.

“Deku-Chan?” she prompts.

“I’m well” Midoriya blurts out, startled, and bits her lip, sheepishly- the most emotion Uraraka has ever seen her display ever since the ball throw.  Uraraka tips her head to the side. “Thank…you for asking”

“No problem!” She says, enthusiastically, but albeit a bit sceptical. She remembered the look on her face yesterday, when she froze up and stared on, like her soul had drifted off her body. Was this what she was like when Bakagou wasn’t around- if so, why was someone like Bakagou in the hero course.

“Is…Bakagou bothering you?” she asks.

“It’s none of your concern” Midoriya’s words come down her ears gracefully, like honeyed notes echoing in the hollow of her ears as if to falter her tracks, but Uraraka doesn’t let up.

“I understand” she says kindly, though she wants nothing more than to scream in frustration, because anyone with a functioning brain could see that Bakagou was bullying her but apparently everyone was a zombie incarnation. “But stand up for yourself, okay?” She pats Midoriya’s shoulder. “You deserve better than that asshole”

Midoriya looks at her, and Uraraka gets the feeling that she is being scrutinized, picked apart from her sharp mind- even if she hasn’t seen it in action- and being stared into her soul. She chuckles sheepishly.

You have pretty eyes” she says, just to cut the silence, which was true- her eyes really were pretty. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen green eyes like yours”

Midoriya takes a step back, as if her words have recoiled her physically, and stares. Uraraka raises an eyebrow, and wonders if this girl wasn’t like how she seemed in the outside. Maybe she wasn’t as intimidating, scary, blank, and doll-like in the inside. Who knows?

“I…see” Midoriya says, once she speaks up again. “I…I think your eyes are pretty too”

And just like that, the tension in the air dissipates, and Uraraka perks up.

“Really?” She says, taken aback and places a finger over her eyelid. “But they’re brown”

“It’s exactly one of the reasons why it’ pretty” Midoriya looks forward, not looking at her, and Uraraka has to jog up a few paces in order to get a good look on her blank face. “It enhances your look” Midoriya adds. “But I suppose people have different perspectives, so anything has the potential to be looked on differently.”

Uraraka flushes. She has never been one to care about appearances, but it was nice to be complimented- even more so, from Midoriya-chan. She hadn’t expected her to be capable of charm.

“Aww” she says, smiling, swinging her arms. The door is coming closer. “That’s really sweet of you!”

Midoriya walks faster, and Uraraka’s smile fades. She speeds up faster, trying to match her pace, but for some reason, Midoriya keeps going faster. Uraraka looks closer, and she’s no fool, but if anything, those tightly clenched hands by Midoriya’s side tremble. She furrows her eyebrows.

“Midoriya, wait up!” she calls her out, only at the last second when they are about to reach the door.

Midoriya stops. “Yes?” she says, coldly. Uraraka cringes.

What did I do this time?

“Whats your favourite colour?” she blurts out, instead, zeroing on Midoriya and keeping her in place.

Midoriya looks forward, and Uraraka hasn’t noticed until now, but that girl never meets her eye. Uraraka doesn’t want to jump into conclusions only after meeting her for such a small period of time, but she isn’t blind, and she’s no fool. She sees concerning signs that lead her to a very disturbing conclusion.

But in real life, unlike what they tell you in detective movies, you can’t point seemingly tangible different facts and somehow piece them together and expect it to lead to only one blaring conclusion. Each event, statement could mean a completely different thing than it implied. Things would be even more complicated with this enigma, Midoriya Izumi.

But she doesn’t expect her to answer her question.

“Fluorescent Blue” she says, coldly, snapping Uraraka out of her thoughts. Midoriya opens the door and she scurries behind her a moment later. She stores the information into a part of her brain. “That’s my favourite colour”

---                    

Maybe Midoriya was being too hostile, and maybe she was being too cold- it wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told her that. She’s aware, and she doesn’t care as much as her heart tells her.

Uraraka sits near the front, but Midoriya catches her sneaking glances at her when Uraraka thinks she isn’t looking- she should’ve known that’s not a possible feat, Izumi keeps track of everyone’s movements. It’s a habit ingrained from her whole life that’s kept her alive; it was exhausting, but it was one of the best ways to survive, gathering information and knowing your environment. She would’ve been dead a million times over if it weren’t for it- she can’t afford to slack off.

Aizawa skims them though a straightforward but information packed lesson, and Izumi gathers all her information on her classmates and teacher’s habits and personality in her head. Occasionally, when she meets eye contact with the teacher, she flinches, but overall, she could see that he was a good teacher in terms of academics.

 Her classmates are loud by the time the class is nearing to an end, except for her seatmate Todoroki and Koda, thankfully, and she uses the time to document everything.

The bell rings. Midoriya flips the page and dots down a few more points about the compatibility and phycological tactics before she closes her book. She feels a pair of eyes watch her, and unable to resist it, she looks up and glares.

“What?” she says coldly, only to realize it was her teacher, staring down at her with blank, impassive red eyes that make her freeze up.

Mr. Aizawa shrugs. “Nothing” It doesn’t sound like nothing- if anything, it implies that he’s hiding something, and if Izumi can dot down all the possibilities, the most blaring one being that he’s seen her book with meticulous information stored in handwriting that could rival a doctor’s. “You’re going to be late to your next class if you don’t get going” he drawls.

There were also a multitude of other students he could’ve said that too- for instance those two chatty students from the corner of her vision, who if she recalls right, are Kaminari Denki and Kirishima Eijiro who haven’t budged from their seat.

But logically speaking, he was right, and Izumi didn’t want to argue with him. She leaves eye contact with her teacher, puts the book in her bag neatly, and stands up, pushing the chair back under the desk soundlessly. He walks away and goes back into his yellow sleeping bag as Izumi exits the classroom.

She doesn’t allow herself to breath until she meets the comforting eyes of Yagi Toshinori in her next class, Heroics.

He busts into the room with a loud bang, and Izumi hides her flinch, expecting this, and doesn’t meet anyone’s eye.

“I AM HERE!” he had boomed, projecting his voice into the hollow of her ears. “…COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON” He lowers his voice as he grins.

Her hair dangles down in a messy bun. It’s hard not to relax under his assuring, kind gaze as he speaks in a levelled projected voice- but somehow, she manages to get herself riled up.

It was a nice distraction, really- but it couldn’t hide the buzzing in her head, her heartbeat in her ears, the constant playback to blood, the way it seeped into her bones and buried itself in her memory unforgivingly. It’s not even close to enough to stop the overwhelming recognition of pain when she takes a glimpse at Gym beta.

She doesn’t want to go in, completely transfixed by fear and recognition. But she doesn’t want to run away either.

All Might tells them to wear their hero costumes, and Izumi glides towards the girls changing room and into a stall. She’s not comfortable changing out in the open- it’s too exposed, too vulnerable, too easy to lose herself in the chatters.

The girls are loud, and she tunes out their conversations as she slips into her costume.

 It’s a simple, but practical sleeveless jumpsuit as dark as a mysterious emerald in a midnight sky, and prominent muscle is shown outside her jumpsuit. Black armour covers her chest, her kneecaps and the majority of her arms, which after bending her arms, she finds it flexible.

When she returns to the Ground beta, she gets to see a room full of students clad in their hero costumes for the first time. Her eyes are instantly drawn to Bakagou, who wears a costume that suited both his aesthetic and enhanced the intimidating aspect.

She hears Uraraka before she sees her.

“Ah! Hey, Deku-Chan!” Uraraka called her over, excitedly. “Your costume looks so cool And practical too. Simple but effective, I like it!”

Play nice.

 “Thank you.” She wrings her hand. “Though, my jumpsuit ended up being more skin-tight than I had intended”

“Oh, I know!” Uraraka agreed. “The support department even made mine skin-tight, too! It’s really embarrassing!”

“Nonetheless, you look good in your costume.” Midoriya added, scanning her over, tuning her usual brutal words into compliments. “It doesn’t have er, be embarrassing”

“Thanks!”

All Might spares her a glance, and she nods his way as a response. He tells them, in his usual booming voice that they looked ‘cool’, and she hoped no one saw her flinch.

 All Might reaches into two separate boxes for the drawing; one box is labelled “heroes” and the other box is labelled “villains.” Her eyes trail the Toshinori’s hand, anticipating the teams in foreshadowed dread.

“And we have our teams!” All Might booms. “The hero team, Midoriya and lida, versus the villain team, Uraraka and Bakugou!”

Her heart lept out of her chest, her hands gripped into fist. Luck had it, of course- to be part of a group she knew personally.

Izumi risks a glance at Kacchan out of the corner of his eye. For a moment he looks more similar to him than himself. Kacchans glare burns fire in her eyes, crashing debris, so dark, so red, I can’t lose him, muscular, death- and Izumi looks away again quickly, blinking hard.

“Heroes, you have fifteen minutes to study the floorplan,” All Might says, “and villains, you have fifteen minutes to hide your weapon. As for the rest of you, please join me in the viewing room! We will be watching from the side-lines!”

Their eyes will be on you. You will be taken apart, scrutinized and criticized harshly, unfairly and unjust because of who are you.

No, she yells in her mind, rebelling against her thoughts and she swears that she can hear her bones strain under the weight of everyone she has lost.  I have All Might’s quirk now, I am his successor, I will not fail him.

I cannot make that same mistake again, hangs in the air.

And as All Might’s successor, she can’t have gone all this way to settle for less. So, if winning this trial meant beating Kacchan, then she would have to.

Faintly, as she walks down the path, she wonders, how far would she go to win?

---

“Hello,” she said to Lida, bowing formally, as she entered the compound. “I believe we can start the work?”

“Of course,” he says, rigidly, chopping his hands together. “Let’s begin.

The churn in her gut increases. “Let me know when you have completed memorizing this floor plan” She says coldly, looking through the blueprint of the building.

“Understood”

“And…if I may” she added. “As we do so, we will start discussing the plan…?”

“Alright”

She skimmed over the blueprint and a plan formulated in her mind. “Bakagou is probably going to come after me. Either Uraraka is going to follow after him as backup or she will be left guarding the bomb”

lida glanced at her. “How do you know that Bakagou will come after you?”

While it didn’t sound hostile, it did leave her a bit panic-stricken, as she explained in monotone: “He…essentially takes up every chance to beat me or put me in my place as he puts it. Umm, judging from Aldera, he probably would try to take control of the situation himself or- uh, I mean and come after me.” Her voice hushed to an uncertain trail of though.

lida trailed the blueprint. “That’s an excellent deduction. As expected from a fellow student of UA!” Izumi blinked. “Do you suppose I should stay and fight with you?”

“No” She shook her head, not meeting him in the eye. “I can serve as bait. I can keep him distracted while you run for the bomb. You are fast, right?” That isn’t even a question, Izumi has seen the way he sprinted like a breeze during the quirk assessment. “I’ll buy you time.” She watches him, warily. “I… trust in your ability”

Lida flushed. “I see. I won’t let you down”

She looked away from the blueprint, having already memorized it. “As we enter the building, I believe we should stick together until Bakagou finds me,” she says. “That’s where we part ways.  You can find the bomb from the path Kacchan appeared in, while I keep him busy.”

“Alright. As well for the players themselves-” lida added. “Bakagou’s quirk is explosion, I believe? While Uraraka’s is gravity control. Five finger activation if I remember correctly.” He chopped his fingers together, and she found it quite odd.

“Yeah” she agreed. “You have to be quick about it, don’t let her touch you. Strike before she notices.”

“And if she does, then I’ll disarm her and capture her, right? With the…capture tape!”

“Agreed”

It fell into silence.

She snuck in another glance, bewildered. Did he forget?

“Lida-san, this may sound uncanny” she said, after a moment, deciding to voice out her thoughts. “But you’re…. different than what I expected”

“If I may…what was your previous assumption?”

She bites her tongue, and looks forward, not looking directly at his face. She takes a shallow breath.

 “A bully”

“A bully?” lida squeaked disapprovingly. He trailed of thoughtfully. “I apologize if I came of that way to you”

“Oh” she said, blankly, barely concealing her surprise, pinching her arm to regain herself. No one ever apologized. “It’s just- at the entrance exam….?”

“That was you?”

She hunched. “Yes”

Lida bowed. “I’m afraid I haven’t recognized you at first, but now I see it- while I still have the time, allow me to apologize! You are clearly the better student, having seen through the points. You saved her, while I had fled” His voice reduced into a self-deprecating tone. “So- So I am very sorry!”

Stunned into silence, she crossed her arms behind her back, trying to read lida. He seemed to be very earnest, and so different to Bakagou- How does she put it into words?

 “Oh- I…see.” She said, smoothing her facial expression into regal blankness. “Thank you for the apology” she said, formally. “I appreciate it, but- well, I don’t want you to think lesser of yourself…either? It’s not a bad thing to…run away” She gritted her teeth- that came out wrong- “but it…isn’t the best option…either?” She winced.

She went on. “I’m sorry, I’m not that good with words- but what I was trying to say is that…if we’re all here to learn, mistakes will happen, but it's how you react to those mistake that determine the path you set on.”

And I won’t make the same mistake again.

Lida didn’t seem to mind her ramble.

“Alright!”

Don’t let your guard down, a tiny voice reminded her curtly.  You know what happened before.

She stopped the smile that threatened to grace her face.

“We’re going to win” she said in a tensed voice. “Plus, ultra”

Chapter Text

In a distance, Bakugou and Uraraka enters the building while Izumi and Iida stood outside, both reminiscing the plan once again in hushed tones.  All Might’s encouragement in their ears was not enough to make Izumi’s hyper-awareness state of mind about the upcoming and inevitable fight any lighter.

(USELESS, PATHETIC DEKU)

She would be forced to fight in a closed of space, against someone who looked like muscular and highly destructive quirks who hated her, alone.

(USELESS DEKU)

She shook her head fiercely. No no no, it can’t happen now. It wasn’t fair to him, wasn’t fair to Iida-

(USELESS DEKU)

Her pendant was secured firmly on the base of her neck, hidden under her pitch-black costume of armour as she clutched it. Maybe she was being foolish, maybe she should’ve left it, but that pendant was never made to stay safe- it was made to accompany her, in his place. This- this would be safe with her, she would protect it fiercer, better….

(MURDERER)

Chaos ticked nearby, waiting for the moment to strike.

“Hero team,” All Might’s voice came from the comms, inevitably. “You may enter now.”

“Plus, ultra” Iida says encouragingly to her, noticing the look in her eyes- it’s as if she’s prepared for a battle, instead of a simple heroics training exercise. She’s grateful for it, nonetheless.

(ALONE, ALONE, ALONE DEKU)

“Go beyond” she said in a monotone, closing her eyes, and wincing.

Stop, she says acidly to herself. I’m not alone, I'm not alone-

Their footsteps are light, but it’s quiet and their footsteps sound like constant rain pattering down their ears.

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.

(YOU KILLED HARUTO)

Shut up, she sneers to herself, unable to take it anymore, her head throbbing. Get the hell out of my mind. It stops, but still,  it stings.

“Midoryia?” Iida asks, hesitantly, and Midoriya snaps her head to look at him in the eye. What? Did he see? Did he notice? What-

“I’m fine” she says under her breath. With her senses already on high alert, seeing the first part of Bakugou’s glove peeking out from the corner has Izumi pushing Iida to the side with a bark of, “First phase initiate!”

(YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HIM TOO)

Bakugou appears fully, and the grin on his face couldn’t be anything but bloodthirsty. He brings a hand forward, explosion at the ready, and Izumi can see the hand almost make contact with her stomach in slow motion- she doesn’t waste a millisecond, blocking with her forearm. The impact has adrenaline pumping with fear.

"Midoriya!" Iida cries, reaching out but recoiling at Izumi’s harsh bark.

“No!” She barks, and she stands up. "Run, Iida! You know what to do!"

 She turns on his heel and bolts down the hall. She can already hear Bakugou yelling after her, trailing after her but it only makes her speed up- she can hear the whirring of lida's engines sprint towards the location of the bomb, but she doesn’t linger long.  She makes a left, then a right, then another right. Enough to get them away from Iida and his path to the staircase.

"Deku!".

Theres only an eerie silence, as soon as their eyes locked. Red, bloodthirsty, battle-hungry eyes that burn in her memory.

“Did you think you would get rid of me that easily, toy?”

(Useless pathetic Deku)

Her heart is beating hard, and she can't tell if oxygen is even going inside her lungs. The lights are too bright, and she knows that Bakugou would surely be able to see her. She’s breathing too loud; everything is too loud. Nothing short of vanishing into the concrete will suffice in hiding from the blond.

He’s surrounded by a pool of blood. His blood. His boot drifts, the squelch of the blood rings painfully in her ears.

Footsteps getting closer, and Izumi sucks in a breath, running faster.

(Useless pathetic |Deku)

"Deku! Stop running, you fucking coward!" There’s hellfire in his eyes. Izumi's half expecting him to blast her to oblivion.

Blank orbs of murderous red bore victoriously onto her face, like a hunter who has trapped a prey right where it hurts

The blond's growl reverberates through the hall, and he stalks off, not once having seen Izumi. Her sigh of relief is barely audible. Detaching her from the wall, distantly, she wonders what’s Iida’s doing.

A splat. A scream. In the distance, two bodies lay, squelched in deep, dark red, the crunch of humane bones silencing their scream. It’s red. It’s loud. It’s too much-

Iida’s voice comes in over the comm. "Midoryia, I found the bomb."

 “Well done” The sudden distraction snaps her out of her thoughts. She barely manages to stop her voice from shaking. “I lost Bakugou, I'll set up a trap and lure him into it."

Izumi imagines that he nods. "Understood. Good luck, Midoryia." The comm cuts off, leaving her in silence. She doesn’t need luck, she thinks, she needs her skill.

Izumi unzips a pocket, the sound echoing in the hall. She flinches and looks for any sign of Bakugou. Nothing. She takes a breath and continues. It’s too calm, and it means something is going to happen.

“You are a weapon” Something cold touches her skin- a glint of the blade which narrowly cuts her eyes. She freezes-

The fishing wire she'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 her to loop the wire through are there as well, along with a mallet. She looks around again for Bakugou and sets to work.

“you are not a human. You do not feel, you do not have a heat. You do not have a conscious mind, because you are a fucking object

“A slipknot won’t work.” Izumi mutters to herself, her voice cracking. She has to instruct her numb body to move, trying to ignore the blasting images by her minds eye.  “So, a common double knot will have to do.”

She finishes tying the last knot when the blond comes into sight. She takes in a breath. She stands up, takes a step back from the wire.

"Hey, bastard!" Izumi yells at the top of her lungs. The words boom off the walls- Izumi refuses to flinch, but the tremor is there in her voice. Bakugou's head whips to her, and she can see the fires of hell.

"Deku."

Izumi's entire body is shaking. "What? Are you deaf?" she snarls, her nose pointed up condescendingly. She thumps a fist on his chest. It sounds hollow.

She forces herself bellow out, but each series of cusses echo distantly, as if it was not her who spoke but another entity who had stolen her voice and body, and each step

Bakugou roars. In his haze of fury, he goes flying towards Izumi with his explosions, and Izumi can see the building fall down and watch herself from a Birdseye view.

 She looked down; her feet were stuck into place and her hands hung limply, drenched with blood, doing nothing.

But this time, she really doesn’t have to stop him. She had prepared for this, for a quick win before she could lose herself in a memory of what couldn’t be. She watches the freeze frame of the Bakagou’s shin catching on the fishing wire, pulling it tight and making Bakugou lose his balance.

Her legs move before she can order it too, leaping over his fallen form and takes out the capture tape instantaneously, wrapping it around Bakugou's wrist when the blond gets up and decks her. Her hands are too busy to block it, and her heart leaps up to her chest.

Bakugou is standing over her, absolutely livid, and he’s not bothering to contain it- Izumi stares on, numb, avoiding his eyes, and takes a step backward, shaking. "Where do you get off calling me a bastard, eh, Deku?"

I wasn’t fast enough, I couldn’t do it, I failed, I failed-

She eyes the other traps, and clears out those thoughts with a single reminder: you have another chance.

 “My victory?” she sneers, but her voice cracks in the middle of it, and she bits her tongue down. Weakness won’t help you survive, you can’t be vulnerable, you can’t be weak-

"You idiot!" Bakugou takes off after her. He doesn't realize is that Izumi's set up more than one trap. Izumi gains more and more ground each time the blond trips, shivers sending up to her spine, using each opportunity to try and wrap him up in capture tape- but Bakagou isn’t a fool, and he gets out of it each time. It's after the fourth trap that Bakugou realizes he can just blast himself over the wires.

He's swearing up a storm. A part of her keeps screaming at her to shut up before all her tricks have been used up but then what? What does she do next? Fight?

Yes of course I’m going to fucking fight, she seethes to herself, she has to win, even if it means fighting him, because she can’t lose and that’s the only way to survive.

"You fucker!" Bakugou is seething now, more than Izumi's ever seen him before. "Use your fucking quirk! Don’t look down on me! " The crackle of explosions fill the air. "I'm gonna make you regret the day you were born!"

Bakugou’s hand exploded into flashes of light. Sweat dripped down her forehead, her head aching in stress.

“You know what, deku?” Kacchan says with a breath of awe. “That was amazing!”

There was a time when Deku meant respect.

“You already do”, she wrenches out.

Stop reminding me, I don’t want to see it hurts-

And then he laid his hand on her shoulder. Her head banged against the floor. Her vision swayed.

(useless pathetic Deku)

(You murdered him)

(YOU KILLED HARUTO)

(YOU KILLED THE ONLY ONE WHO CARED)

No, she screams, sobbing, I didn’t do anything, it wasn’t me, I can’t-

(are you going to make the same damn mistake and do nothing?)

She doesn't know what happens next, really, she doesn't remember being herself for the next few moments. She stops thinking. The boundaries of her control snap, like a tightrope with her falling down from the middle. From that moment, muscular was her opponent and her task was to fight alongside the heroes. All there was, was a hollow shell of a weapon who was trying to survive, ready to kill whoever and destroy everything if it meant living another day.

But the tightrope that had snapped did not make the strain lighter- it did not feel freeing. No- it felt more like falling, down, down, down, through a bottomless abyss and all she could do was keep flaying her arms and hope that each try gave more credibility for a chance to fly. Her limbs were taut, moving through a sequence of movements she had not instructed it to do, as if reality was a hollow chamber in the distance; this must be how fish felt, gazing at the wide, stretching sky above-  another world beyond their reach. 

Dodge, strike, recoil, maim- her body moved, and attacked, and attacked, as if her entire life was made for this very purpose alone and yet her mind was radio silence, as if her soul faded, drifting away until all that was left was a weapon. And weapons didn't have ranks, morals or values; they were more akin to a gun and tank, tools for destruction, whether it's bearer was good or evil; they were meant to be controlled, and only the best weapons lasted the war. Perhaps that was why all she saw was through the lens of unforgiving pools of red, red-red-red

"Deku!"

(again she swung)

"You are not a human"

(again she fought)

"You are a worthless, useless, piece of shit, I hope you know that"

(again she fell and again she sought)

"DONT HURT MY MAMA!"

(again shots fire)

"Deku, deku, deku can't do anything!"

(again they hit)

“I'm tired of being in my own body”

(against the bearer who never missed)

"You are worthy of respect, Izumi"

(and run went the bullet, and down went the tree, to make sure the girl, would continue to cease)

-and then a thin outline of blue clarity. Something different amidst all the red, something new. It scared her. This sudden breath of hope, a gust of wind uplifting her falling body up, up, up. This wasn't what she expected to knock out her breath- this wasn't flying, nor was this turning back time.

This was fighting against gravity.

Distantly, winds howled and thrashed against her spirit, but firmly, she held tight onto her will, and tried something different- something worth doing even if it failed, even if she didn't make it the next day. 

The winds came at her in the faccade of a multitude of bright explosions, and the movements rung clear inside her fead- she took hold of the winds fiery breath and swung it, directing it over her shoulder.

No- not wind- Muscular, who landed on his back. Her eyes cleared, her stance adjusted into a firm fighting style, and stared him down. The blue was still here, inside her, but there was too much red, she was still scared, as if she held a piece of glass hoping it was enough to fend of a dragon acres larger her own size. 

Muscular took aim- his strange arms making a whirring rising in pitch as it was pointed against her. Behind her, a building far away, but tall enough to crush them and unstable. A distant memory of a falling structure echoed like a chamber of demons.

The heroes beside her were dismembered. A pool of blood coated them, grief colouring their open eyes.

And she thinks: they look like they died remembering, because the last thing they said to each other was the last.

Fear was probably the last thing they felt.

The glass shattered. 

They were no longer fighting with the heroes.  They were exterminated. They didn’t survive, their heads lolling limply away from each other, their bodies crushed. And for once, the blue was crushed under the sheer weight of fear. 

“I had these prepared,” Muscular said, distantly. There was static in their ears. A foreign voice shouting in her ears to stand down, but it didn’t sound like her handler, so it meant that an intruder had barged into her earpiece.

A snarl echoed in her ears, one that she wouldn’t forget. Musculars red, angry eyes zeroed onto her, like they were the only people in the world in this battlefield. “SHE WON’T DIE IF SHE DODGES!”

Muscular took aim at her. Instincts took over- she leaped over to the side. The battlefield was engulfed by a ball of heat and nuclear power. There was no place to dodge. 

Haruto was the only blue. But blue was fading- quickly. This time, she was alone, by herself, facing him alone.

Clashing with muscular, clad in a wave of fire- her body moved without her ordering her too, and her vision became red, her body covered in red striped of crackling green power- she didn’t understand what the electricity meant, but she did not have the liberty to care.

 She shook as a rumbling echoed in the building. A boom resounded in her ears. Too loud- she was breathing too loud- everything exploded her senses, and the ground seemed to sway under her feet.

Red, red, red, pain- blue- blue- green- noise- bright- noise- trapped- gone-

Flinching hardly, her eyes widened as she looked at Muscular. She got up to her feet, her hand reaching out to grasp the shimmering blue mist, knowing he was so close. Hoping if it was just one more step, and they could go back to what they used to be-

A faceless stranger stared at her. (His body was covered in a pool of blood). . An unrecognizable smile. So close, she can’t lose him, she reached desperately-

Her fist closed on thin air. Her arm was purple, similar red strips of power fading.

There was nothing. Only air.

She lost him again.

She fell onto her knees, clutching his gift which lay dusted on the base of her neck. She cradled it softly, trembling as her body racked with fear.

“Haruto?” she begged, her voice on the verge of desperation. There was no one in front of her. Only air. He wasn’t there. Haruto wasn’t here- she failed- but- but he was Haruto. He couldn’t- a pathetic explosion couldn’t have ended someone like him just so easily. “Are you okay? Haruto? Sir?”

She waited, and waited, always waiting-

No answer.

She looked at Muscular, the man who ended Haruto. Him? It crashed down her- and suddenly the wind fell flat, her will crumbled, her body crashed into air from higher heights with harder intensity, pressure, trapping her from all sides as if the sky was nothing but an illusion and all that was real was the darkness of the abyss, falling, down, down DOWN, DOWN-

(This pathetic excuse of a human being ended Haruto?)

She clenched her fists, an explosion of pain came overwhelming in her arm, dragging her down.

“I’ll kill you!” she snarled. She lugged her way towards Muscular, limping, holding her hands up, swinging a broken, purple fist. “You’re dead! Dead!”

“What the hell Deku?!”

She growled. “My-” a punch “Name-“ He tried to launch another explosion. She pinned his arms, his hands aimed at his own body. “Is- Izumi!”, She screeched. “You don’t have the right to call me that, you coward!”  Her knees pressed on his back; his body pinned on the floor. “Killing kids? Killing someone like Haruto?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Despite everything, she trembled, and fire trailed the strands of her hair.

He froze. A dark look crossed her face.

“Your…hair- “

She noticed the blaze of fire trailing her hair, and she blew it away fiercely- strands of hair drifted onto the floor. So what? It was only hair, why should she care about such crap when he, he the only one who cared, the only one who was different-

“If all you do is destroy what’s precious to me, then I’ll destroy you too.”

“Who the fuck is Haruto?” Muscular yelled. Her eyes narrowed dangerously at him. “And I’m not that damned Muscular! You got that?!”

A broken cry.

Then silence.

“How dare you” she spat. “How dare you ask me who the fuck is Haruto. Haruto was the kid you murdered” Her eyes were dark. A tear slipped out of her eye. Her body trembled as constant explosions littered her body, dragging her movements. “Do you think me a fool?” she whispered dangerously. “Do you seriously think I would fall for that?”

Muscular groaned. “Of course not, fucking Deku! Snap out of it, you’re creeping me out!”

She clenched her fists, scowling at the flurry of pain. “I’m not Deku!” She snarled. “My name is Izumi!”                                                                                                      

He growled. “You’re a Deku, and you always have been”

She paused to take a breath.

“Do you want me to dismember your body the way you did to the Hero duo, Muscular?” She cried out, and then, she smiled darkly. “Then shut the fuck up”

“I’ve retrieved the weapon!” Two voices colliding into one, both loud and straight to the point.

A ringing in her ears. “Hero team wins!”

She snapped her attention to the intruders.

“Weapon? Hero team?” She mocked, and she felt like sobbing, crashing onto her knees because its true, they're dead, everyone is dead, everyone I care about is GONE- “Muscular killed them." she snarls, her voice barely kept together, her voice aching with grief. "Can’t you see?”

“Deku” Muscular snarled. “I’m not Muscular”

She wanted to kill him. She wanted to watch him suffer.

 It would be so easy. Just snap his neck and watch the way the eyes of someone who took the life of the only one who mattered, die.

It’s his fault. It’s his fault- not hers- he’s the reason why Haruto is gone- not hers- Muscular murdered Haruto- but didn’t she help? - IT’S ALL MUSCULAR’S FAULT.

It felt like falling, down, down, down.

“Really?” She whispered, not louder than the duplicitous howls of her heart, her vision blurring. The world started to spin- she wanted to reach out, and kill him before he got her, but her limps stopped short of movement. “Then I must be imagining your hideous blond hair. Your blood-thirsty red eyes. The way you look at everything like a toy to destroy. I, more than anyone would recognize a face like yours.”

“Midoriya! It’s over! Snap out of it!” The intruders voice, hurried, concerned- hah! Why would anyone be concerned for her?

“Midoriya?” she whispered. “Who’s that?”

A distant reply. The ringing in her ears increased.

“Shut the fuck up” Her voice sounded faint, her vision blurry. Her arms throbbed.

She fell onto her knees, cradling her bloody head, a migraine erupting like a metal bell inside her brain. She struggled to stand up, and she knew that she wouldn’t make it. Because the enemy was still alive. She groaned.

Words slipped out of her lips in a desperate, commanding whisper.

“I’m waiting for you, Haruto”                                                                   

The world spun around her, her vision blinking into dull, lifeless dots.  She grasped the air, clawing at nothing, as tears slipped down her face.

“You’re… not coming back, are you?”

Izumi doesn’t hit black as soon as she hit the ground. The last thing she saw wasn’t the colour of the flames- she didn’t delve into darkness just yet- the last thing she really saw was the unsteady sway of Muscular, looming over her, eyes widened with something short of horror.

But no- Izumi squinted- no, not Muscular; Bakagou.

But he doesn’t look angry and for the first time, he doesn't look fierce.

If anything, he looks afraid.

---

It’s eerie, how quiet it is.

That’s the thing, when the class has been a major cacophony ringing through the room for the past hour, conversing and commenting while watching the screen in intense focus as though they were miles apart than nearly one foot away from each other. After a while the noise settles in his ears, until the percussive beat of gasps and criticism remarks echo like a humdrum in his ears and sneers in the back of his head. And then, all at once they all hush into a collective silence.

For a while, the class is reduced to a pin-drop silence. The dawning horror in their face is palpable, watching the whirring of Bakagou’s gauntlet build up into a powerful blast of explosion. Up until now, both fighters seemed evenly matched, and the outcomes of the fight were ambiguous. Except now, it doesn’t even look like a fight- it looks like a battle.

He watches the class’s emotions shift from confusion, realization, and outright anger.

“What the heck is Bakagou doing?” Kaminari whispers.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t look anything good”

 “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is-“

“No! Her hair….!”

“Just put the capture tape on her!” Kirishima yells and Todoroki want groan at the obvious, palpable answer-  Bakagou and Midoryia were nothing short of friends, leaning more towards bully and victim, what did they think that Bakagou of all people would take the 'easy' road out? . “You don’t have to do this, Bakugou, just put the capture tape on-- why isn’t he stopping!? Why won’t he just end it!?”

“Midoriya can’t even dodge-!” Kaminari shouts at the screen. “Just cut it out, Bakugou!”

“Put the capture tape on! Even though you’re playing the ‘villain’ here, that’s our classmate--!”

“Bakugou, frick--! Agh, I can’t, this is painful to watch--!”

“Sensei, you have to stop this!” Hagakure’s gloved hands grab his forearm and shake him, just enough to get his attention. “You can’t let Bakugou--oh, oh no, why won’t he stop--!”

All Might snaps out of his shock. His hands fumble for the microphone, and Todoroki has never seen the hero look so conflicted and helpless at the same time. “Bakugou--!”

Bakugou slams Izumi into the ground again.

“Bakugou, stop--!”

An explosion. A scream. Izumi’s scream.

“BAKUGOU!”

He turns back around towards the screen, as do the rest of the students, and they watch. Izumi is yelling- not at Bakagou but at the earpiece, and somehow Izumi is stalling, but she doesn’t look like the girl Todoroki has seen these past few days. She doesn’t even look like she’s fighting in a class exercise- it looks like she’s fighting for her life.

Todoroki narrows his eyes.  Izumi is now on the floor, and blood trickles down the side of her face, but her fist is retracted at her side.

Bakugou tries to grab her again. Golden tendrils envelop Izumi’s arm, and she throws the punch.

Not at Bakugou, though, Todoroki realizes.  At the ceiling.

Bakugou is blasted off his feet, and the surge of wind pressure from Izumi’s punch shoots straight through the roof, blasting out floor after floor and all the windows in the process. Izumi and Bakugou’s screens are full of smoke and dust; on Iida and Uraraka’s screens, the explosion blasts through the floor, and Iida springs into action, but Todoroki isn’t looking there.

The smoke and dust clear on the other screens, and Todoroki refocuses his attention on those instead. This is too much, even for a class excericise, almost matching his training- why isn’t All Might stopping this? Why hasn’t he stopped the excericse yet?

Even after Midoryia’s arms have broke- Todoroki winces at the sheer leaps of blood on her body- and they still continue to fight; isn’t this crossing the line? Was this what they called ‘plus ultra’?

 Midoryia looks hazed, and Todoroki looks closer- she looks disoriented, not herself, as if everything was distant and she was barely holding it together; muscle memory was the only thing keeping her alive right now, Todoroki of all people should know.

Instead of voicing his questions out, he walks over to stand in a distance near All Might where he continuous to talk to them in firm voices- except, they don’t look like their listening.  Bakugou is standing a little ways off, staring- and that’s when Todoroki realizes that the exercise is over. His balled fists tremble at his sides, but it’s a different than when Izumi’s hands were shaking. It almost looks as if he’s angry- at himself and Midoriya. No- almost afraid.

All Might presses the mic button again. His voice rings out through the building, declaring the hero team the winner.

Victory has never looked so much like defeat.

 Todoroki’s eyes zero in on Midoriya’s swaying figure, and tunes out the class, because though Todoroki knows that he shouldn’t make friends, won’t make friends, he can’t throw of this nagging feeling at the back of his head to make sure that she was okay- but the insistent bellow overcomes it: if she was too weak to make it, then she’s not cut out to be a hero.

But Todoroki can’t leave it at that.

--

The Heroes Vs. Villains exercise is, in his humble opinion, a slightly impartial success. He’s already gotten a handle on his students’ various quirks from watching Aizawa’s class the previous day, but now he has a better feel for them as potential combatants. There’s a world of difference, after all, between seeing them use their quirks to raise their athletic scores, and seeing them use their quirks in a conflict.

In spite of the overall success of his first class, he spends most of the day pushing aside the little twist of unease in his gut. The first match bothers him and continues to do so throughout the day. Young Iida and Uraraka seem to be all right, and their performance was exemplary. But as for the other two…

Midoriya spends the rest of class in the nurse’s office, and Toshinori catches it from Recovery Girl when he ducks in to check on his student and hide after his time runs out.

“Why did you let them go so far?” she scolds him. “It’s the second day of school, and this is the third time she’s been in here!”

“My apologies-”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to!” Recovery Girl’s eyes nearly squinch shut, she’s glaring at him so hard. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“I...” Toshinori’s voice trails off, and he turns his head to look at Midoriya. Her right arm is a mess, limp and slightly misshapen, dark with bruises where bandages don’t cover it. One For All is a miracle of a quirk, but it abuses any wielder who isn’t ready for it. For Toshinori, it puts a strain on his wasted form that leaves him retching blood. For Midoriya, one flick breaks her bones.

And yes, he had an inkling that it would end this way, when he was observing. But after how the match had started, Toshinori hadn’t the heart to force the girl to end it on such a note. Nor did he think that she would delve so deeply into battle mode that she’s forgotten where she was.

“I was thinking I’d made a bit of an error,” Toshinori says at length.

“Oh, an error,” Recovery Girl says acidly. “And when did that occur to you? Before or after he finished things by shattering every bone in his right arm?”

“Shortly after the match started,” Toshinori replies. Recovery Girl blinks, and for a moment her anger gives way to surprise.

“Oh?”

“It’s possible that the first mistake I made was assigning those particular teams to oppose each other,” he explains. “The selection was random and I didn’t know – I’d assumed they were acquaintances, after…” He shakes his head. “Midoriya certainly never said anything.”

“All-Might,” Recovery Girl says with forced patience. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s…difficult to explain” He looks down at his feet. “I certainly didn’t intend to, but I shouldn’t have set them against each other so soon,” Toshinori says at length. “I don’t know details, but they seem to have a bit of a history. I think young Midoriya had to, ah, resolve some things.” His brow furrows. “Exorcising old ghosts, I suppose.” On the cot, Midoriya lets out a whimper and stirs, but does not awaken.

“Well, that’s all well and good.” Recovery Girl harrumphs a little. “But if she’s to be your successor, All-Might, then you mustn’t indulge her when she puts life and limb on the line so early in her development.”

“…Well she did win,” Toshinori points out.

“Not without destroying half a building and every bone in his arm!” she snaps. “All-Might, you should know better than to let a girl so young into such a dangerous practice fight when she’s emotionally vulnerable!”

“If I’d known-”

“You didn’t. But it’s no excuse not to exercise good judgment.” Her glare softens, but only slightly. “You’re a teacher now, All-Might. And in that respect you’re as much a raw beginner as he is. You have a responsibility to children, not just yourself or some nebulous ideal of peace. You won’t get this done by cracking heads and following your heart – it’s time you learned to use some sense, dear.”

Toshinori does try. Every part of his gut instinct wants to side with Midoriya and work things out from her side, and her side only; to look at Bakagou with mistrust and distaste because of what he’s done. But his sense reminds him of the frozen, helpless look on young Bakugou’s face after the match ended. His common sense, quiet and meek but irritatingly right, tells him that Bakugou’s swollen pride does not call for disdain, but correction. He is a boy like any other; he needs to be helped in his shortcomings, not simply punished for them.

He takes a glimpse at Izumi, remembers the words she had spoke during the exercise, and wonders if he’s barely scratched the surface when it came to knowing who his young successor was. Then, he sets out to find Bakagou, who seems to be freezing in cold ice despite being under the scorching sun as he trudges down the staircase.

“Hello Bakagou!” He says, making way for preamble, despite wanting to go for the straight matter at hand. “Are you alright?”

Bakagou reacts as he expects him too. “Do I look alright?”, he snaps.

“I understand, young Bakagou!” He says, nervously, but steeling his nerves and hopes that he says the right thing. “Your combat skills are indeed a vital thing, and you’re not mistaken in thinking you have talent befitting a pro! But from here on out-”

Bakugou surprises him by rounding on him and yelling back. “Well AT LOT OF GOOD THAT DID ME, RIGHT?”

Toshinori wastes a moment tripping over his train of thought. “Uh-”

“Oh, wonderful.” Sarcasm drips from Bakugou’s voice. “I have talent. How much talent do I have if Deku read me like a goddamn book and made me look like an idiot in front of the entire class?”

Who on earth is Deku, is the first thought that comes to mind, before he remembers Bakugou shouting it earlier, and the kanji that spell his successor’s given name and… oh… that’s a bold statement. All Might feels a sudden urge to smash the wall.

 “Come now, does it bother you so much?” he asks. “It shouldn’t, you know. It’s your second day, and you have much to learn-”

“You don’t know her!” Bakugou snaps, teeth bared in a grimace. It looks like anger, but that’s only a mask, and it’s a rapidly fraying one. The boy has tasted defeat, and it frightens him. “I’ve known her for almost my entire fucking life, and she’s a weakling! She’s always been a weakling! She’s never had a quirk, and now suddenly she’s-” His words trail off into noises of incoherent frustration.

Understanding dawns then, and he thinks he understands a bit better now. “And now suddenly,” Toshinori finishes for him. “She’s beaten you at something.”

Bakugou’s eyes flash.

“Like it or not,” Toshinori says. “She’s beaten you. You lost today, and unless I miss my guess, you will lose quite a lot by the time you graduate.”

“She must have cheated,” Bakugou hisses, but Toshinori senses that it’s to save face. “She cheated, or he’s been tricking me this whole time-”

“And if she has, what difference would it make?” Toshinori asks, gently. “You saw the rest of the matches, same as I did. What do you think of your new classmates, my boy?”

His student doesn’t answer aloud, but he draws his shoulders up and clenches his fists until his quirk pops like a handful of bang snaps. Toshinori can almost hear his breath straining under his thoughts. After a moment, Bakugou’s answer comes out, muffled and tight and addressed toward the ground. “Can’t beat them.”

“That’s because, young Bakugou, you are still learning,” Toshinori informs him. “Same as the rest of them. Your pride will get you nowhere. As far as I know, it’s the experience that helps you, not the outcome. I don’t know what anyone else has been telling you, but this is Yuuei, the alma mater of half the top heroes in the country. You aren’t special here.”

That gets a rise out of him. “Fuck that!” Bakugou bursts out, and his eyes snap up to Toshinori’s face. “You haven’t seen anything yet! He just beat me once! That’s all there is to it! And that ponytail girl and the ice guy – fuck it, it doesn’t matter! I don’t care how strong anyone else is, ‘cause I’m gonna get stronger!” His eyes narrow as they meets Toshinori’s. “I’m gonna surpass them, and then I’m gonna surpass you, too. I’m gonna vault straight over you as the top damn hero.”

Toshinori blinks, and he feels a sudden wave of nostalgia overcome him. Sounds like number two hero he knows. For a moment he hunts for a proper reply, for some pearl of wisdom to bestow on the boy, but his mind is blank. In the end, all he can do is nod and say: “I look forward to your progress”

The conversation ends there, leaving Bakugou to return home and Toshinori to wander back to the teacher’s lounge to power down and sift through his thoughts. He’s already pushed himself past his limits in order to appear to Bakugou, and he can’t risk being seen by his other students in his emaciated state, so he probably won’t have time to catch Midoriya for a talk before the boy goes home for the day.

Did he do that right? He didn’t mess that up, did he? His sense isn’t telling him anything bad, for now.

Time will tell, he decides eventually. He’s lit a fire under young Bakugou, that’s for sure. He only hopes it was the right thing to do.

“Hey” a familiar voice says behind him, and All Might jolts at the youthful voice. The abrupt appearance of his successors friend makes All Might release a startled yelp.

“Hello!” he greets, reminding himself that Toshinori does not know Kane, but only All Might. He sits up straight, and transitions his character to an old, gaunt man. “Well, why are you here?”, he demands Kane, mimicking the low, irritated gruff of Aizawa.

From the looks of Kane's casual shrug, it does not give the intended effect. “Why can’t I be here?”

His response gives All Might a pause to think of a proper reply. “A number of reasons, most certainly” he says. “For instance, who were you sent by my boy?”

“Hmm” Kane offers, ambiguously, plopping beside him on the couch, and All might keeps a steely gaze on him. Kane shoots him a lazy grin. “Then that’s for me to know and for you to find out”

All Might narrows his eyes, and can’t help but feel irritated by his deliberate poking. “I may have to report you, my boy”

Kane shrugs once more, boring his startling gold eyes into his, and All Might lips purse tightly, like a taut violin-string. “Go ahead” he dares him, and Toshinori gets the feeling that he is being provoked- it’s almost as if he’s being looked down on. “But first, tell me one thing”, Kane says, languidly.

Toshinori gets up from the couch, abruptly. “I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to leave-”

“Do you know All Might?” Kane shoots out hurriedly, springing into standing position, sprinting to stay in his line of sight. “Please, I have to talk to him-

“Unfortunately, I do not know of his whereabouts at the moment” he makes sure to say this firmly but kindly, opening the door with purpose. “Now, I’m afraid I have to do this, but please, leave”

“You sure?” he tries again, desperately.

“I’m quite sure” he informs him, firmly.

He keeps the stare long enough until Kane relents, and gives in, his head drooping down. “Okay I guess” he mutters, acidly. “Bye”

All Might watches him leave, and wonders if he should say something. He can’t think of anything good to say, so all he can do is sink in relief when he closes the door, slumping down on the floor. It’s only then when Aizawa passes by him by does he looks up.

“Whats up with you?” Aizawa asks, but it looks like he doesn’t want to know.

His head sinks back on the crook of his arm. “wdqgyualpwiu” he says, elegantly.

“Hmm” Aizawa says, gruffly, sinking into his chair. “You’ll get used to it,”

Toshinori muffles out a snort. “I hope so”

---

Hisoki Art

Kane Tsukuda Art