Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I don’t know why you were not given a Gift, but that is no excuse to hurt our family!”

Abuela’s voice echoes across the silent courtyard.

For a second, no one says anything. 

Mirabel releases a breath, as her expression twists from shock, into dark realisation. Hurt blossoms across her face, as her eyes darken with frustration.

“I will never be enough for you, will I?”

Abuela does not respond, but her angry, contemptuous expression does not change either.

“No matter how much I try,” Mirabel feels a lump forming in her throat, “I will never be enough for you. You always see me as useless, a waste of space, no matter how much I try.” She turns to her hermanas, who are standing off to the side, silent, too scared to utter a word.

“No matter how much… anyone tries, we all are never enough for you,” Mirabel’s frustration begins to bubble, as she gestures to her hermanas, “Luisa will never be strong enough. You keep piling more and more work on her shoulders, expecting her to remain strong like some kind of machine, never once considering that she is only a human with limits to her strength!”

“No matter what, Isabela will never be perfect enough! You forced her into an image that she does not want to be! She never wanted to marry Mariano, and she wanted to use her Gift however she wanted. But you took all of that away because you wanted to vicariously live through her because you never got the happy ending you wanted!”

“How dare you - !”

SLAP!

Those watching gasp loudly, as Mirabel did the unthinkable and slapped Abuela hard across the face, so hard that the old woman’s face swung sharply to the right.

“Shut your mouth!” Mirabel screams, as a red handprint forms on Abuela’s cheek, “I’m not fucking done! You didn't just ruin my hermanas’ lives, you also drove Tío Bruno away because you and everyone in this God-damned town only saw the worst in him! He became so afraid of his Gift, that when he had the vision with me in it, he went into hiding in the walls to protect me! He did it because he loves me! He loves this family! I love this family! We all love each other as a family! It’s you who doesn’t care!”

All around, more cracks begin to form around the courtyard. And outside, along the main street of the Encanto, a massive fissure tears the cobbled street apart, startling residents and spooking animals alike.

“You are the one destroying our home!” Mirabel screams.

Finally, Abuela finds her tongue, “Don’t you ever - !”

She never gets to finish, as Mirabel bellows, “The Miracle is dying because of you! Abuelo died in vain because of YOU!”

Abuela gasps, utterly broken with horror.

Then, out of nowhere, the floor splits between them.

“Oh no! No! No!” Pepa cries.

Mirabel watches in shock, then horror, as cracks race up the wall towards Abuela’s windowsill.

“The candle!” Félix points.

The cracks fracture the windowsill, knocking the candle off its holder. A strong lurch nearly throws everyone off their feet, but Mirabel is immediately racing across the courtyard.

“Casita! Get me up there!”

The house immediately knocks off the second floor railing, turning it into an impromptu ladder for Mirabel to begin scaling up. As she climbs as fast as she could, she vaguely hears Isabela conjuring a vine to swing her way up, but at that moment, her door goes dark. Isabela’s vine disappears mid-air, and she screams as she begins to fall. Thankfully, Casita pushes out some wooden beams which catch Isabela, and safely deposits her on the courtyard floor. Out of the corner of her eye, Mirabel sees Camilo also try to reach for the candle, shifting into an older man to give himself an extra boost. However, his door is the next to go dark, and Camilo loses his Gift just shy of the roof tiles. Casita breaks his plummet by jutting out the adjacent railing, which he catches and lands on the courtyard without injury.

“Casita! Get my family out!” Mirabel cries over the din.

She reaches the roof, when a distant boom momentarily distracts her. Mirabel looks back, and sees the tallest mountain split in two down the middle, just as it did in Bruno’s vision. She quickly clambers onto the roof, as Antonio’s door is blown off its hinges by all of his animal friends fleeing in terror. Down below, the young boy gasps as his Gift disappears.

“Careful, Antonio!” Félix quickly scoops him up, saving him from a falling door which he had failed to notice. Holding Antonio tightly in his arms, Félix makes a run for the front doors, “We’ve got to get out of here!”

“Mirabel!” Julieta tries to reach the ladder, but Casita rolls the floor, pushing her out, “Mirabel!!!”

“Mirabel! We have to get out!” Agustín calls out to her, but he, along with the rest of the family, are thrown out of the front doors, as a cascade of debris blocks the doorway, preventing anyone from getting in.

As Mirabel is about to reach the windowsill, she hears a loud crash, and a distant yell. She sees Bruno rolling to a stop down the slope adjacent to the house, a bucket over his head, and his rats spilling out of his ruana. Relieved that her tío managed to escape unharmed, Mirabel clambers to the windowsill.

“Mirabel, get down!”

“Mirabel, leave it! It’s not worth it!” her mother screams.

Mirabel tries to reach for the melting candle, but the windowsill is too high. Casita gives her a boost, which allows her to grab onto the fractured wood. Meanwhile, cracks begin to reach Bruno’s tower, as Abuelo Pedro's portrait falls off the wall it is on.

“Mirabel, please!” Agustín cries, “The house is going to fall!”

The cracks race up Bruno’s tower, weakening the structure.

With a bit of nudging, Mirabel is able to push the candle towards her. She grabs it off the windowsill, and slides back down onto the roof.

"Mirabel!"

Then, a groaning noise makes her look up, and she baulks.

Weakened beyond the point of no return, Bruno’s tower collapses in a deluge of rubble, falling straight towards her. The sudden movement of the roof tiles from the falling debris causes Mirabel to lose her balance, and with a shriek, she falls off the roof, milliseconds before the deluge smashes through Abuela’s room.

Time seems to slow down.

As Mirabel falls, seemingly to her demise, the candle's flame begins to flicker. The magic, in its death throes, screams for Mirabel's soul. She has so much more to live for, a greater purpose, one that was unfortunately misinterpreted by a matriarch warped by grief and pain, and subsequently suffered injustly as an innocent.

The magic always gives, but when something is given, something else is taken in exchange. Pedro Madrigal’s valiant sacrifice gave birth to the Miracle. And now, something will be taken in exchange for Mirabel’s life.

From the rapidly-dimming flame, a swarm of golden butterflies burst out. The melting wax flows over Mirabel’s hands up to her wrists, but does not burn her. The world brightens, the ominous sky being chased away by a blinding supernova. 

The last thing Mirabel sees is the blinding light exploding across her vision, and the roar of Casita as the house crashes to the ground in a deluge of rubble and dust.

To Be Continued.

Chapter Text

For an indeterminable amount of time, all is silent and dark.

Then, she hears many unfamiliar noises. Her consciousness slowly returns. Her eyelids flicker open. At first, her vision is blurry. All she sees is an expanse of blue, with a splattering of white. Then, as her vision sharpens, she realises that what she is seeing is the sky above her. It appears to be mid-afternoon.

She tries to get up. Slowly, because her body feels heavy and achy. She doesn't know if she is injured, but she'd better not risk aggravating any she might have.

Once she is in a sitting position, she checks herself over. She doesn't appear hurt, although, to her confusion, her hands are a different colour from the rest of her arms. They are gold, instead of the brown of her arms beyond her wrists. 

This... is strange.

After a moment, the heaviness plaguing her body seems to be recede. She looks around.

This strange, grey surface she is on, hard and unyielding, is something she has never felt before. And looking around, she seems to be on a…roof of some sort? 

That is the only connection she could make, but this is truly an unusual roof. 

Add to that, where in the world is she?

However, before she could further entertain that question, she hears something heavy land on the roof. For some reason that she can’t quite fathom, she quickly gets to her feet and goes to hide herself against the nearby wall of a strange structure on the roof. 

“That was so reckless of you, young man! You could have been killed!”

Huh.

She peers around the corner. There is a giant, hulking man with bulging muscles, bigger than anything she has ever seen before. Somehow, she could understand what the man is saying, despite the language sounding foreign to her ears.

…why does it sound foreign in the first place?

She has so many questions, but no answers. Nonetheless, what happens next snaps her out of her pondering.

The insanely muscular man disappears in a huge cloud of steam. When the steam clears, her jaw falls open.

In its wake is a skeletal husk of a man, emaciated and the clothes that once stretched tightly against bulging muscle now hanging limply on sticks. 

Someone screams, but not her or the man who was once a towering block of muscle. She then realises that there is a third person on the roof. A teenage boy, probably about her age, with dark-green hair and dressed in all black with red shoes. 

The boy screams and panics for a long time, until the skeletal man stops him, “No, stop! Stop screaming! It’s really me!”

Only then does the boy stop screaming, but she can still tell that he is stupefied, “A-All Might? But…how…?”

“This…this is my true form. This is what I really look like, when I’m not All Might.”

The skeletal man goes on a long, rambling explanation, almost all of which is completely alien to her. Nothing he says make any sense to her, although she knows, somehow, that this is something serious, a huge secret that cannot be shared with anyone. 

The man gets the boy to promise, swear up and down, that he will never reveal this secret to anyone. The boy nods vigorously, and the man makes to move towards the structure where she is hiding behind. For a moment, she is worried that he would see her, that she had eavesdropped on the entire conversation.

“All Might, wait! Please, I need to ask you something important!”

The skeletal man stops. So, he goes by the name of “All Might”? 

How strange, she thinks. A strange name indeed.

“Can a quirkless person be a hero like you?”

…

…

‘Quirkless?’

The more she listens, the less she understands the world she apparently woke up in.

Quirks? What is that?

…

…

Could quirks be the reason why her hands are now golden?

“No, you can’t be one.”

She snaps up. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear this All Might respond.

“It’s too dangerous. You’ll just be a liability to others. You need to be more realistic.”

Just… ouch?

She thinks, shouldn’t there be a more tactful way to approach this?

Regardless, the man simply walks away, leaving a frozen young boy behind on the roof. Despite going towards her, he doesn’t appear to notice that she had eavesdropped on the entire exchange. She hears a door opening and closing.

For a moment, all is silent.

She turns her attention to the boy, who appears to still be frozen from shock. His head dips down, and his shoulders begin to tremble.

Oh no…this is bad. Should she go over and try to comfort him? But won’t that reveal that she was there the entire time, eavesdropping on the entire conversation he just had with that All Might man?

How should she - 

She never got to consider the implications.

Because the boy had sauntered over onto the railing, lifting one foot over - 

Her feet move without thinking.

Toshinori Yagi sighs, as he descends the stairs down to the ground floor.

He needs to let the security of this nondescript building know there is someone on the roof, and to not get suspicious about the boy he left on there.

…

…

Why does he feel that he messed up somehow?

Shaking his head to dispel his thoughts, Toshinori brushes a bony hand against the pocket where he kept the bottle containing the slime villain - 

…

…

The bottle is not there.

In his grief-fuelled delirium, Izuku only snaps out of the trance he had sunk into when he felt someone grab him by the shoulders and back, and yank him off the railing. He flails, then the both of them hit the floor.

“Please, no, don’t do this.”

It is a girl, probably no older than he is. She has brown skin, although her hands, up to her wrists, are gold in colour. She has neck-length curly black hair, brown eyes that are framed by spectacles with a green frame, and dressed in a blouse and ankle-length skirt that are both explosions of colour and incredibly unfamiliar at the same time.

Her face is desperate and pleading.

“Don’t do this, please.”

Izuku is too stunned to immediately respond, never mind register the fact that he had tried to kill himself.

“Who are you?” he eventually asks.

The girl opens her mouth to respond, as if on instinct, but she stops. The silence extends for another moment.

“I…I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

Amnesia then, Izuku thinks.

But more importantly…

“Why did you stop me?”

Clarity takes over the girl’s expression, “I saw...what you were planning to do. Please, don’t do something so impulsive.”

Izuku glances down, “What else is there? To live for? All Might…he doesn’t think I can be a hero, because I’m quirkless.”

“...this All Might, is he someone you know?”

“I’ve always looked up to him,” Izuku responds, unintentionally slipping into a ramble, “He’s the number one hero! The Symbol of Peace! He always said that anyone can be a hero. Is…is what he said a lie? Is everything I knew just…a lie?”

The girl seems to consider her words, “I…I can’t really say. I don’t know enough. But…you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

Izuku turns to her. She isn't looking at him with the pity he so often sees on the faces of adults once they learn about his...disability.

“I can’t begin to imagine what you must be going through,” she continues with compassion, or as much compassion as an outsider like her could give, “And All Might…I’m in no position to judge him as a person, but at that moment, he could have said things more tactfully. He could have said things better.”

At that moment, Izuku feels tears trickle down his freckled cheeks.

“I don’t know anything, but…somehow, there is something I know for sure,” she is now looking at him, her eyes and lips firm and resolute, “The fact that you have survived up until this moment, it shows how strong you are. And…this may not seem like much, but I’m proud of you.”

She takes his hands. Izuku notices how warm they are, almost like he is holding his palms over a hearth or fire, “You have survived so much, possibly for a very long time. This All Might might be the number one hero as you described him, the Symbol of Peace, but he is nothing compared to you. To have survived so long, against possibly insurmountable odds…you are already stronger than any hero out there, Symbol of Peace or not.”

Words could have been meaningless, what with his dream in tatters. But at what is arguably the lowest point in his life, Izuku saw such words, full of compassion, non-judgement and understanding, as a soothing balm.

Like a fire keeping away the cold.

“...I -”

An explosion suddenly rocks the air, startling them both.

To Be Continued.

Chapter Text

Izuku thunders down the road, dragging the unknown girl who stopped him from ending his life along with him. Cursing under his breath repeatedly, Izuku follows the sound of the explosions going off once every few seconds, heading towards where they could be coming from. He knows only one person who is capable of making such explosions. And he knows that person well enough to know that the explosions are not anger or sadistic glee.

But of fear.

After some time, he sees a crowd gathering up ahead. Not letting go of the girl's hand, Izuku pushes their way to the front. They are greeted by the sight akin to a war zone, the street is strewn with debris, overturned cars, and fallen lampposts. Fires are burning out of control, fuelled by the explosions that periodically erupt. The police have cordoned off the street, and are struggling to hold the crowd back.

But most shockingly for Izuku, the slime villain that nearly killed him in the underpass has somehow escaped, and has taken Kacchan hostage.

Kacchan is trapped within the villain’s sludge-filled folds, struggling to breathe, as the villain threatens to kill him should anyone try anything funny.

“What on earth…?” the girl mutters, caught between confusion and shock.

Izuku looks around frantically. Where are the heroes? Why is no one running in to save Kacchan?

Oh, but there are heroes. Three of them, in fact.

Death Arms, Kamui Woods, and the newly-debuted Mt. Lady are present.

But none of them were doing anything. They were just standing off to the side, watching, like statues, as Kacchan slowly suffocated, with help supposedly in reach, but still too far away.

“Kacchan…”

The reason why those three heroes were shirking their sworn duties never registered in Izuku’s mind, not when Kacchan, whom he had always seen to be snarling with rage or smirking with sadistic contempt, is staring at him with eyes wide with terror, pleading for someone to rescue him.

His feet move without his permission.

Despite the police cordon, Izuku slips his backpack off his shoulders, dives under the cordon tape and dashes right towards the villain.

“Kid! What are you - ?!”

The girl immediately runs after Izuku.

Izuku lifts his bag into the air, and with all the strength he could muster with his scrawny body, hurls it at the villain’s eyes. The bag hits its target, and the villain roars in pain. Its hold on Kacchan momentarily breaks, allowing the blonde to gasp a blessed intake of air, staving off suffocation.

The villain recovers, and sees Izuku and the girl, “You again?!”

“I won’t let you hurt Kacchan!”

The villain roars, and lunges towards Izuku.

“Kid!”

“Be careful - !”

Everything slows down.

In those split-seconds, the girl’s golden hands, one of which is grasping Izuku's arm, start to glow. A massive ball of light erupts from their connected bodies, stopping the villain in its tracks and forcing those spectating to shield their eyes from the sudden, blinding supernova. Unseen by those around them, a swarm of golden butterflies surge up from the tarmac, swirling around them both Izuku and the girl are stunned silent, staring at the butterflies fluttering around them like a tornado with wide eyes. Suddenly, one of the butterflies breaks away from the swarm, fluttering towards Izuku. It lands on his forehead, and without warning, phases into his body.

Izuku suddenly gasps, as golden rings forms around his irises, and little specks of gold, akin to the scales of a butterfly’s wings, shimmer into appearance around his eyes. Then, from his right hand, a golden sword alight with fire materialises. 

The swarm of butterflies disappears with a spark, and the light blinks out of existence, bringing the world back into view.

The villain furiously screams, lungeing towards Izuku again. Instinctively, Izuku raises the sword and brings it down on the villain, the burning blade slices through the slime. The villain screams in pain, falling backwards, the part where Izuku struck it smouldering. This allows Kacchan another crucial gasp of air. Seeing the villain’s grip on him loosening, the girl darts forward and grabs Kacchan’s exposed hand. 

“What are you - ?!”

“I got you!” she yells over the din, “Don’t let go!”

Straining and groaning, the girl manages to pull Kacchan from the villain's body. 

“You little - !”

Before it could attack the girl, Izuku runs forward and stabs the villain in the eye with the sword. It screams again, as the flaming blade punctures through the eye socket and straight into the brain. Izuku twists the sword and slices the villain across the face, right through the other eye. The agonised scream splutters into a choked gurgle, as the villain goes still. Izuku stumbles back, the blade coated in a disgusting mix of sludge and blood. The villain sinks into itself, becoming nothing more than a puddle of slime, and doesn’t move again.

Silence fills the street, save for the crackling of the flames that have yet to be extinguished.

“Deku…”

“That was extremely reckless of you both! You could’ve been killed!”

Perhaps it was the after-effects of the adrenaline, or a part of his brain that had lost its filter and was still running on said adrenaline, but Izuku, despite sitting down on the pavement with a shock blanket draped over him, is not going to take this (frankly unwarranted) rebuke sitting down.

“And what? Leave Kacchan to die?!” he snaps back, which makes Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady startle back, “You three were just standing there, doing nothing! You were supposed to be heroes for heaven’s sake!”

“Please, calm down,” the girl tries to soothe him, “Don’t work yourself up.”

“I’m sorry,” Izuku turns to her, “But they don’t just get to stand there and look pretty for the cameras while someone is literally dying right in front of their eyes.”

“Why you - !”

“Takeyama-san, stop.”

Death Arms decided then to intervene, stopping the newly-debuted heroine from doing something stupid, “Go and check on the blond kid to make sure he’s okay. I’ll talk to them.”

Mt. Lady looked incredibly indignant, but Kamui Woods, seeing that lingering around would just bring unwanted attention to them, quickly pushes her away. With the other two heroes out of the way, Death Arms crouches down to be on the same level as Izuku and the girl.

“Kid, you need to understand, our quirks were ill-equipped to deal with the situation -”

“Yeah?” Izuku snarks back, “Why didn’t any of you aim for the eyes then?! It was clearly the villain’s weak point! Kamui Woods could’ve thrown, I don’t know, a tree branch or something, and you could’ve gone in and pulled Kacchan out while the villain was distracted! Maybe Mt. Lady was useless in this case since all she does is become a walking wrecking ball if she used her quirk -”

“Hey!” said heroine cries out indignantly, before being quickly shushed by Kamui Woods.

“ - but you could’ve still done something! Yet you just let someone nearly suffocate to death until I, a quirkless nobody, had to do your fucking jobs for you!”

At this, Death Arms blinks in confusion, “Quirkless? No, no you can’t be.” He shakes his head, “You materialised that flaming sword out of thin air.”

“I don’t know, but I was definitely quirkless before! Extra toe joint and everything!” Izuku was probably running his mouth by this point, more than he should, given the situation, “You are a licensed pro-hero, Death Arms, yet you had to have a quirkless nobody do your job because you couldn’t use your fucking brain!” He turns to the nearby spectators, “Listen up! If you are caught up in a villain attack and Death Arms happens to be nearby, you can bet that he’ll leave you to die because he doesn’t know how to do his own job properly!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake -” Death Arms curses under his breath, as several onlookers begin whispering to one another, “Listen kid, you -”

“No, I’ve heard enough.”

Izuku’s head swings to the familiar voice, “Auntie Mitsuki!”

The girl turns to see a blond woman approaching them. She looks strikingly like the boy whom she pulled out of the slime monster earlier. Maybe a relative? Or his mother maybe?

“Izuku, are you okay?” Mitsuki pushes Death Arms out of the way, crouching down before him, “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine, Auntie Mitsuki,” Izuku shakes his head, “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the news,” she replies, “Uncle Masaru and I drove here as quickly as we could.”

“What about Kacchan?”

“Uncle Masaru accompanied the brat to the hospital,” Mitsuki says, “Izuku, thank you so much for saving my son.” She then turns to the girl by Izuku’s side, “And you. You helped to get Katsuki out. Thank you, truly. We are indebted to you.”

The girl blushes, “U-Um…I wasn’t sure what happened. I-I’m just glad that your son is safe.”

“Ah, right! Are you hurt anywhere?” Mitsuki asks her, “Do you need to go to the hospital too?”

“Um…I don’t think so?” the girl shrugs, “I’m not in pain or anything.”

“Okay,” Mitsuki nods, “What is your name? And where are your parents?”

“I…um…”

“I think she’s amnesiac, Auntie Mitsuki,” Izuku tells her quietly, “She doesn’t remember anything.”

“...I see,” Mitsuki nods after a moment, “Very well, I’ll bring her with you back to your place, Izuku. Your mum must be worried sick about you.”

“Do you think she’ll mind?”

“Knowing Inko? I doubt it,” Mitsuki ruffles his hair, “C’mon, let’s get you both out of here.”

“Hey! I’m not done here - !” Death Arms, whom apparently everyone had ignored and forgotten, storms towards them.

“Yes, you are done here,” Mitsuki snaps, standing between the two teens and the man, “That was my son whom you nearly killed because of your negligence! You can expect a lawsuit if Katsuki turns up with any complications at the hospital! Now leave us alone, you and your fellow clowns caused enough fucking damage as it is!”

The pro-hero was, obviously, not used to being dressed down by a woman more than a foot shorter than him, but before he could open his mouth to respond, he is suddenly bombarded by reporters and camera personnel, all of them shouting questions over the other. 

Taking advantage of the sudden hullabaloo, Mitsuki herds Izuku and the girl to her car, eager to get out of this madness as quickly as possible.

To Be Continued.

Chapter Text

Before long, the car pulls up in the parking area of Izuku’s apartment building. Mitsuki turns off the engine, and steps out of the car, Izuku and the girl following suit. 

“Auntie Mitsuki, will I be grounded?”

“Hm, possible,” Mitsuki chuckles, “Inko was beside herself when she called me earlier.”

Izuku groans.

A quick trip up the elevator later (which caught the girl’s fascinated interest), they step out onto the common corridor and approach the front door. Mitsuki presses the doorbell, and footsteps almost immediately rush towards the door.

The girl, admittedly, flinches a bit when the door is thrown open, and a petite, rather chubby woman with the same dark green hair as Izuku cries out, “Izuku! Oh, my baby!”

The woman dashes out and squeezes Izuku around the midsection in a desperate hug, “I was so worried! You’re not hurt, are you?”

“M-Mum,” Izuku wheezes, “I-I’m fine! P-Please let me…breathe!”

“C’mon Inko,” Mitsuki coaxes, “Your kid is fine. And besides, I found a lost duckling in need of a home.”

Only then does Inko notice the bespectacled girl standing by the side, shifting slightly from awkwardness.

“Oh!” she immediately lets go of Izuku, allowing blessed air to enter his lungs, “My apologies, where are my manners? My name is Inko, and I’m the boy’s mother. Who are you, my dear?”

“Um…I’m not sure?” the girl shrugs helplessly, “It’s good to meet you though, Mrs. Inko.”

“She has amnesia,” Mitsuki explains, “She can’t remember her name. I found her with Izuku though, so I figured that he knew her somehow.”

“I see,” Inko nods, reserving any questions she might have for later, “Please, come in. You must be so confused and lost. Are you staying too, Mitsuki?”

“Sorry, can’t stay,” Mitsuki shakes her head, “I need to go to the hospital and check that my brat hasn’t levelled the place down to rubble. God knows that he could’ve if I don't get there quickly…”

She takes her leave right after. Inko then herds Izuku and the girl inside, “Would you like some tea, my dear?”

“Um…yes, please, that would be nice.”

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Masaru is in an outpatient ward, watching over Katsuki as a doctor runs several checks with him. 

As the main victim of the hostage situation, the doctor had been extremely thorough in checking that Katsuki hadn’t suffered any internal injuries or had any remaining sludge material inside his organs, specifically his lungs. If there had been, Katsuki would’ve been transferred to the emergency care facility for treatment right away. Thankfully, though, it seems that everything is normal, so after a cursory reminder to take it easy for the next couple of days, the doctor takes his leave.

Now by themselves, Masaru observes his son, noting that the boy had a perpetual scowl ever since they arrived, “What are you thinking, son?”

“The fuck you want, old man?”

Used to such abrasive responses, Masaru presses on, “Something is bothering you.”

Katsuki clicks his tongue, and looks away from his father.

“Tell me, Katsuki. Is it about what happened earlier?” Masaru says gently, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of from being caught up in a villain attack. They happen all the time, and -”

“It’s about fucking Deku!” Katsuki screams, cutting him off.

“...what?”

“That shitty, fucking Deku…” Katsuki’s teeth are grinding now, “Thought he was fucking slick, eh? Thought he could go around fucking with me? Quirkless my ass. He had a quirk all this fucking time! Pretending to be all weak and shit! He just fucking goes and pulls it out of his ass to fuck with me!”

“Katsuki, I don’t understand -”

“That shitty nerd was looking down at me all this fucking while, old man! Get it together!” Katsuki continues ranting, cheeks flushed with rage, “Pretending to be quirkless just to fucking fool everyone, he thinks he is so fucking slick. Fucking nerd, if he thinks he can one-up me like that -!”

“Bakugou Katsuki, that is enough!”

Katsuki’s rant dies on his tongue, eyes wide as he swerves towards Masaru.

In all of his short life, Katsuki has never, ever, heard the man raise his voice. Not even when he and the old hag were going at each other’s throats.

It is so jarring, all of the colour just drains away from his face.

“Katsuki, what the hell is wrong with you?” Oh fuck, the man is swearing, “How could you call Izuku that degrading name?” Katsuki opens his mouth, “No! None of your excuses! You always said that you’re going to become a hero, but what kind of hero degrades their childhood friend like that?!”

The rage that Katsuki had always known rears itself, but the burning look in his dad’s eyes forces him to hold his tongue.

“There is something going on here,” the man sits down again, never once looking away, “You claim that Izuku is looking down on you, but has he ever gone up to you and started talking down at you? Has he done anything, and I mean anything, that says he is looking down on you?”

“N-No, he didn’t do shit! But I fucking know he is always thinking it!”

“Was he thinking it, or were you assuming he was?”

That renders Katsuki silent. 

“Also, how long have you been calling Izuku that degrading insult?”

Katsuki’s silence is just as telling.

Masaru feels like the entire world is crashing down on him.

He draws in a deep breath, and lets out the most frustrated groan-slash-sigh possible in an attempt to relieve the tension growing inside his head.

It doesn’t work.

It is very much clear that he and his wife had fucked up big time. How could they have let things get this bad? Katsuki and Izuku were childhood friends! Practically inseparable! Even after Izuku was diagnosed as quirkless, Katsuki had remained close, until seeming to just change overnight. 

Masaru knows that he is a pacifist at heart, usually leaving it to Mitsuki to discipline their son. However, it’s obvious that the approach he had used has now blown up in their faces. And right now, he needs to take the wheel.

Good lord, he’s going to fucked six ways to Sunday by the end of this…

“We’re going to have a serious talk, as soon as your mother gets here,” Masaru states under no uncertain terms, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Katsuki merely nods, still silent.

Small mercies, Masaru thinks, as he leans back into the chair, trying to stop the burgeoning headache from getting worse. He best makes full use of the silence while he can, before his wife’s shrill screeching escalates his headache into a full-on migraine.

She doesn’t remember if she had such a beverage before.

But this tea that Mrs. Inko gave to her is very refreshing. And it certainly helps to soothe her strung-up nerves from what happened earlier in the afternoon.

“What kind of tea is this?” she asks, mainly out of curiosity.

“Green tea,” Mrs. Inko replies, “Do you like it?”

“I do,” she nods, taking another sip, “It feels really calming.”

“I’m sure you need it,” Mrs. Inko says, “It must have been frightening, what you went through earlier.”

“I admit…” she puts the cup down on her lap, “I was confused. I had no idea what was going on, or…what exactly happened next.”

“That has to be your quirk,” Izuku says, joining the conversation.

“What are “quirks”, anyways?” she asks, genuinely confused, "I heard you talking about it with that All Might man earlier."

Izuku’s eyes balloon, his mouth falling open. He looks like he was about to question her very sanity, but seeing the genuine confusion on her face, he settles in for an explanation. Said explanation begins to turn into a ramble, until Mrs. Inko gently stops her son from rambling off into the sunset.

“S-Sorry!” Izuku’s face turns into an uncanny resemblance to a tomato, “it’s a bad habit of mine!”

“No, no, I think I get it,” she is quick to stop him, “So quirks are like special powers. That sludge thing we fought earlier, his quirk is slime. And,” she turns to Mrs. Inko, “your quirk allows you to pull small objects towards you.”

“That’s right, dear.”

She glances at her own hands, the golden colour shimmering in the evening sun, “So this is my quirk, as it is called, the ability to…give others powers of their own?”

Both she and Mrs. Inko turns to Izuku. The golden rings around his emerald irises, and the specks of gold around his eyes have not disappeared. And apparently getting the unspoken message, Izuku flexes his hand, and the same flaming sword from earlier materialises in his hand.

Mrs. Inko cries out in shock, followed by the unmistakable sound of her cup smashing on the floor.

Izuku immediately makes the sword disappear, worried about setting off the fire alarm.

“This is so weird,” she admits, once things have calmed down a little, “I have this quirk, but I don’t remember how I got it, or how I ended up on the roof of that building. Nothing seems to make sense!”

Mrs. Inko, sensing her distress, leans over to squeeze her hand gently, “I understand, my dear. There’s a lot of things here that don’t make sense. I know you must be terrified, and it’s okay to be so. But, you don’t have to worry too much. You can stay here for as long as you like to. I’m sure Izuku is okay with sharing his bedroom with you, right?”

The woman gives Izuku an expectant look. Despite the return of the red blush (albeit not as intense as earlier), he nods readily.

“Also, I think we should focus on what we can do right now,” Mrs. Inko continues, “For example, maybe we can give you a name? I would like to be able to address you personally, rather than “the girl who gave my son a power”, after all.”

Grateful for the distraction and change of topic, she purses her lips, considering what would be a good name to call herself.

As it is, Izuku also thought about it, “Why not ‘Mariposa’?”

She turns to him, as does Mrs. Inko.

“I just…can’t forget the golden butterflies we saw earlier. You…were holding my arm earlier when they appeared. And they…they reminded me of a movie I saw years ago. The butterflies symbolising rebirth, of a family beginning afresh after decades of unhealthy expectations and trauma. The movie was set in Latin America, where Spanish is largely spoken. And the Spanish word for ‘butterfly’ is mariposa.”

A beat of silence.

“I-It’s just a suggestion!” Izuku frantically waves his hands, “You don’t have to take it if you think it’s cheesy or -!”

“No,” she interrupts him, “I like it. I think…I think it fits.”

She can’t explain it, but it feels…familiar, somehow. Like something endearing, even if she doesn’t know where it came from, or who said or used it. 

Mariposa…Spanish for “butterfly”, used as a theme for rebirth and renewal.

Even if she can’t remember whether she had a life, family, or anything , before today, she has something now. Something new.

A name. 

And hopefully, a new life, with both Izuku and Mrs. Inko in it.

To Be Continued.

Chapter Text

Her new life, as it is, begins with the doorbell ringing.

Mrs. Inko goes to answer, muttering about how they weren’t expecting any guests. She opens the door, and blinks owlishly.

“Hello! Am I a mouse, dog or bear? Either way, I’m Principal Nezu!”

Mrs. Inko then looks down, as Izuku cries out in shock. Mirabel raises an eyebrow. What is going on?

“P-Principal Nezu?!”

Mirabel goes to join Izuku and his mother by the door. Looking down, she sees what appears to be a…rodent-like creature (?), dressed in an immaculate suit and orange sneakers. 

“I’m so sorry for showing up unannounced and uninvited,” Nezu bows, “but I have something important to discuss with you three. May I come in?”

Mrs. Inko invites Nezu inside. Izuku and Mirabel return to their seats on the sofa, while Mrs. Inko pours Nezu a cup of tea. Taking a sip, Nezu’s beady eyes light up for a second.

“What is that you wanted to discuss, principal?”

“I’ll be blunt, I saw what happened with the slime villain,” Nezu begins, to which Mirabel notices Izuku minutely flinching, “Quite an impressive display of power, I must say.”

“But I killed the villain…?”

“Self-defence, easily arguable,” Nezu waves a paw, “And I’ll be blunt again, I wasn’t the only one who saw what happened between you both,” he gestures to Mirabel and Izuku, “and the villain. Quite frankly, there are more than a few organisations who have begun to set their sights on you two. So much so that on the way here, I saw a commission car ahead of us on the way to your apartment. So, I did what was expected, and rammed the car off the bridge that we were on into the Abe river!”

Mrs. Inko had been drinking tea at that moment, and promptly spat it out. Izuku drops his own teacup, which smashes into pieces on the floor.

“P-Principal Nezu! You just killed someone!”

“Well, more like three people, but details!” Nezu chirps, taking another sip.

Despite the rather blasé admission to murder, Mirabel has a question, “What is this commission that you mentioned?”

“Ah, my apologies,” Nezu sets his cup down, “I understand that you’re confused, so I’ll keep things simple. The commission I’m referring to, full name the Hero Public Safety Commission, is, on paper, an organisation tasked with maintaining public order and serving as administrative oversight on heroes and quirk usage. However, despite their name, the commission has been rumoured to be involved in shady, criminal dealings in the past. One of which is the supposed grooming of young children with powerful quirks and “training” them into the idealistic image of heroes. While these are, officially, rumours, I have collected quite a fair bit of intel over the years that appears to give substantial evidence to these rumours. As such,” he sips his tea again, “when I watched your fight against the slime villain, and how your quirk apparently gives power to other people, I saw fit to intervene before any, shall we say, unsavoury characters decide to make themselves to known to you with false promises and dubious offers.”

Mirabel and Izuku share a look.

“Are you saying…that the hero commission was going to target my son and Mariposa?” Mrs. Inko asks.

“No doubt. And even though I disposed of those three low-level grunts, I’m all but confident that the commission will keep trying, either until you capitulate, or they decide to resort to…less-than-legal means. By which point, all pretence of offers and choice will be gone, and…well, no one is above the law, as some idealists might say, but based on the evidence I have gathered, the commission has a sobering record of acting above the law on many occasions, just to get what they want,” Nezu replies bluntly.

Mirabel notes that Izuku now looks positively unsettled, casting worried glances at Mrs. Inko. With the revelations hanging over their heads, she breaks the silence, “Principal, after all that you told us, what do you intend to do?”

“Ah, thank you for reminding me, Mariposa-chan,” Nezu grins, “My plan is to kill two birds with one stone. Given the circumstances, I see it prudent that you three should relocate to U.A. to stay out of the commission’s reach. While the commission has influence over heroes, they don’t nearly have that same authority over Japan’s hero schools. Additionally, while staying in U.A., you will have access to the best facilities and resources available to better train and develop your quirks, along with the best teachers in all of Japan who will oversee your training and ensure that you are not only safe, but you will be supported in every way possible!”

Izuku nibbles his lower lip at the offer, before turning to Mrs. Inko, “What do you think, mum?”

Mirabel observes that the older woman looks incredibly conflicted, lost in her thoughts, which is honestly quite understandable. Nezu, if anything, is as patient as a saint, merely drinking his tea while Mrs. Inko ponders her next words.

“This…is honestly so overwhelming,” she admits, “But, my children are my top priority,” she glances pointedly at both Izuku and Mirabel, “and I will do anything to keep them safe and well. If…If that requires us to move to U.A. as you advised,” Mrs. Inko levels a firm look at Nezu, “then we’ll do it.”

“Wonderful!” the principal claps his paws, “You have my sincerest promise that both Izuku and Mariposa will be completely safe and protected while in U.A., and if anything less than that should come to pass, I will grant you permission to shave the fur off my head!”

For some reason, Mrs. Inko relaxes at that.

“Shall we start packing, then?”

To Be Continued.

Chapter Text

Mirabel has never seen a place like U.A. before.

For sure, this new world that she found herself in still mystifies her on many counts. Even sitting in the back of this vehicle that Nezu evidently came in, with Izuku and Mrs. Inko joining her in the back, and watching the world go by through the window, everything is a sight to behold. The people she sees on the pavement, all manner of heights, body sizes, colours and even extra appendages like limbs, horns, wings, all kinds, Mirabel can’t look away. This world is so unfamiliar, yet so intriguing too.

And U.A.? Well, it is a whole other level.

The first sight she sees are the towering twin buildings, appearing to be made entirely of glass, that rises over the city and dwarfs every other building as far as the eye can see. Then, as they disembark and Nezu takes them up to his office, Mirabel sees that U.A. is absolutely massive . The grounds are probably the size of a small town at the very least . She sees other buildings dotted around, what looks like a large stadium, a dome with glass windows, and also a construction site where buildings are in the midst of being built. What these buildings were supposed to serve, she could only imagine.

Well, given that she is going to be staying here in this vast campus for the foreseeable future, perhaps in good time, she will learn what these buildings are used for.

For the time being, Nezu brings them to his office, a spacious room with plenty of space for a desk, a set of sofas and a coffee table, and a lot of bookcases filled to the last shelf with books and other trinkets. On the coffee tables, there is a portable stove and kettle perched on the ring.

“Would you all like to have tea?”

“Yes, please. That would be nice,” Mrs. Inko nods.

Mirabel observes a glint in the stoat’s beady eyes, and his grin becomes the tiniest bit bigger. Perhaps not many people have accepted his offer of tea? Which seems like the height of rudeness.

Mirabel, Izuku and Mrs. Inko sit down on the sofa opposite Nezu. The kettle is put to boil, tea leaves immersed into the steaming hot water, and the beverage portioned out into four cups for all of them. 

“Now, shall we get to business?” Nezu sips his tea, “I must admit, these latest developments put us into a unique situation. While the plans for the new dormitory system have been implemented, the new dormitories and staff apartments have yet to finish construction. I will inform Cementoss about the situation and have him speed up construction in order to allow you three to get properly settled in as soon as possible. In the meantime, we do have temporary rooms that we use to house esteemed dignitaries and visitors, so I hope those will suffice for the time being.”

“You’ve done a lot for us already, Nezu-san,” Mrs. Inko nods, “We shouldn’t impose any more.”

Nezu acknowledges by returning the nod, “The rooms are already furnished. When the dormitories and staff apartments are completed, there will be a chance for you three to personalise your living space as you like. Now, if there aren’t any further questions, let’s get to what the next ten months will be like for your children.”

Mirabel and Izuku pay rapt attention as the details are laid out. They will need to undergo regular fitness regimens to keep their bodies healthy and fit to withstand the unpredictability of the outside world. The staff will facilitate and oversee their progress, Nezu reassuring Mrs. Inko that both teens are in good hands, and their safety will be prioritised at all times. The plan also includes sessions to determine the nature of Mirabel’s quirk (she needs to really get into the habit of calling the power she evidently has by that…rather unusual label) and the power she apparently bestowed upon Izuku during the midst of the altercation with the slime monster.

Out of curiosity, Nezu asked Izuku to demonstrate how it works. Swallowing, Izuku sets his teacup down, and flicks his wrist. Immediately, the flaming sword that he used to kill the slime monster materialises in his hand. Nezu makes a noise of interest, “Fascinating, I can already see so much potential with this.” 

Izuku quickly disappears the sword, mainly to prevent the fire alarm from going off and activating the emergency sprinklers overheard.

“Also of importance, I recognise that you are still in the midst of your final year of middle school, Izuku-kun,” Nezu continues, “While I can imagine that this is quite the sudden disruption, rest assured that I will personally assess where you currently stand in terms of your academic capabilities, and craft your syllabus to cover the rest of your final year as smoothly as possible. Now, as for Mariposa-chan…” Nezu hums, taking a sip of tea as he considers, “things will be a little different for you. Given your sudden, unexpected appearance, and the fact that you aren’t able to remember anything that gives us any information about your life prior to appearing in Musutafu, your education assessment will be geared towards where you currently stand in terms of proficiency and knowledge.”

“I understand,” she replies, “Thank you for your consideration.”

“Oh, think nothing about it, my dear girl,” Nezu grins, “After all, I would be quite the terrible educator if I didn’t properly consider your circumstances.”

Things really get into full swing come the next day.

After a hearty breakfast cooked by U.A.’s chef, Lunch Rush (Mirabel wonders what his face looks like underneath his mask…), Mirabel and Izuku reconvene in Nezu’s office. The sofas and coffee table from the day before had been removed, replaced with two identical desks and chairs.

“Good morning you two! I hope you had a good breakfast. I have taken the liberty of putting your assessments on those desks over there. Your names are printed on them.”

Mirabel and Izuku take their seats. The booklets are roughly the same thickness, and each desk has a calculator and a set of pens. 

“You have the rest of the morning to finish as much as you can,” Nezu tells them, “You may begin.”

Several hours later, the two teens have left for lunch, leaving Nezu to go through their answer booklets.

“Interesting…”

Just a few pages in for both Izuku and Mirabel, and already Nezu is intrigued. Izuku’s answers, frankly, are completely unlike what Nezu expected. In preparing his assessment questions, Nezu had gone through Izuku’s middle school academic records, and what he saw raised more than his own eyebrows. Izuku’s grades and the accompanying teachers’ comments and remarks, on the surface, seem to indicate a student who isn’t particularly gifted in the academic department, and is a known troublemaker. However, cross-checking with Izuku’s personal information, especially his previous status of “quirkless”, and with his completed answer booklet, only raises more questions, and opens the possibility of something much more nefarious going on beneath the surface.

Because frankly speaking, Izuku’s answers to the questions posed to him in the assessment are unprecedented . If Nezu wants to be conservative, Izuku is on par with university students, with his work easily able to get good grades in college-level classes. Furthermore, it was the analysis questions with Izuku particularly shines, with his given answers so much more in-depth and comprehensive than what Nezu expected.

He will need to conduct further investigations into this Aldera Middle School, because the discrepancies are just too stark to reconcile.

Mirabel’s answers, on the other hand, are a puzzle in themselves.

Make no mistake, it’s not like Mirabel struggled to answer the questions in her assessment booklet. She has no issue with language, vocabulary and grammar, and her proficiency in mathematics and history seems adequate. Science appears to be a weaker area, but that can easily be improved with some guidance and tutoring. However, it is Mirabel herself that has piqued Nezu’s intrigue.

Despite not verbalising anything, so as to not make the girl uncomfortable, Nezu suspects that Mirabel isn’t of Japanese origin, or isn’t from Japan itself. While her spoken Japanese is absolutely fluent, her attire is reminiscent of Latin American influence. Nezu did some research the night before, and his instincts are pointing to Mirabel possibly originating from Colombia.

Even more interestingly, the design of Mirabel’s attire dated to sometime in the 20th century, particularly the 1950s. While clothing styles in the current era do retain some elements, Colombian children have become more exposed to diverse fashion trends and styles ever since the days of the quirk wars, and what teenagers of Mirabel’s age are wearing nowadays aren’t anything like what she’s currently dressed in.

So he has a teenage girl who has, for all intents and purposes, a quirk, but originating from Latin America, possibly from an era centuries ago, and yet she speaks in fluent Japanese, and has relatively little trouble maintaining grades that are expected of someone her age.

Interesting, very interesting indeed…

To Be Continued.

Chapter Text

With time, Mirabel quickly establishes a routine.

After waking up, she and Izuku will leave Heights Alliance for the main campus, have breakfast in the cafeteria, and attend their morning lessons in Principal Nezu’s office. After which is lunch, followed by afternoon lessons and training, facilitated by other U.A. teachers.

Admittedly, it would be perfectly understandable for Mirabel to feel completely overwhelmed by everything, but she took to her new routine like a duck to water. Perhaps it was because of her amnesia, which, despite being assessed by U.A.’s healer, Recovery Girl, showed no signs of improvement, helped to provide a clean slate for Mirabel to ease into new situations and settings more easily.

It also helped that Mirabel was curious about U.A. and wanted to explore every nook and cranny. While her lessons and training brought her to many corners of the campus, given the vast scale of infrastructure packed inside the four walls, there were easily more to explore. 

Given her packed daily schedule, the only time for exploring on her own terms was during the lunch break. 

So far, she’d navigated the vents (something which Nezu wholeheartedly encouraged her to do), the expansive library situated in between the main buildings and Heights Alliance, and the sports complex where the U.A. stadium is located (the usual venue for the annual Sports Festival) along with smaller gym facilities and an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

Today, though, is exceptionally hot. Unusually so since it was already past summer. Grabbing an iced tea from the drinks counter on her way out, Mirabel wanders around the main buildings, determined to stay indoors this afternoon. 

That said, as she passes a window, she sees a courtyard adjacent to the cafeteria that, somehow, evaded her notice previously. There are a lot of trees, providing plenty of shade from the sun above, and even a fish pond with a small waterfall feature at a far corner.

A breath of fresh air is always welcomed, so Mirabel locates the door to the courtyard and steps out. Yes, the heat is palpable, but the lush green and ample shade of the trees make it less blinding. Spotting a particularly large oak tree with the widest foliage cover, Mirabel sits down amidst the roots, leans back against the trunk, and quietly sips her drink. The rush of the cold, refreshing brew, coupled with the breeze that suddenly blows across the courtyard, creates a moment of quiet tranquility, where for a short period, all thoughts about training and lessons are put to one side.

That is, until footsteps quietly approach, and come to a stop a few feet away from her.

Mirabel turns to her left. A boy with dark, spiky hair, and noticeably elongated ears not unlike elves in fantasy novels had suddenly come from somewhere. Dressed in the standard-issue, non-altered U.A. school uniform, the boy stares at her with wide, uneasy eyes.

“U-Um…hi? Can I help you?” Mirabel asks.

The boy noticeably flinches, and his eyes dart side-to-side repeatedly. He hunches into himself, his hands wringing. Mirabel tilts her head, what’s going on?

“M-My spot…”

Mirabel notices that his eyes occasionally dart back to the cafeteria, where other students are still eating and chatting with one another. 

Oh.

Oh, okay. 

She gets it.

“Sorry, I didn’t know. Um…we can share?” Mirabel offers.

The boy is still wringing his hands, but he no longer looks like he is on the verge of a panic attack. Mirabel makes space, and the boy gingerly sits next to her, hugging his knees to his chest. Mirabel glances over as she takes another sip. The boy doesn’t look like he wants to talk or engage in conversation, so she just goes back to zoning out in silence.

It is clear that the boy doesn’t like social interaction. Mirabel can’t really relate to that, but her lessons with Recovery Girl and Hound Dog have taught her that no two people have the same capacity for socialising. She can only imagine how difficult it must be for the boy, especially when he is forced to interact with his peers.

Fifteen minutes pass in total silence, save for the rustling of leaves and the distant flow of water into the fish pond. Just before the bell rings, two sets of footsteps approach the tree.

“There you are, Tamaki! We were looking everywhere for you!”

A tall, incredibly muscular boy with blond hair and beady blue eyes, and a bubbly-looking girl with long, curled purple hair loom over them.

“Oh? Who is this, Tama? Your new friend?” the girl asks, before suddenly getting right up in Mirabel’s face, “I’ve never seen you before! Are you a student here? What course are you in? What is your quirk? How do you know Tama - ?”

Admittedly, the unexpected assault of rapid-fire questions catches Mirabel off-guard, and all she can do is stare dumbly, completely unable to process the questions, let alone reply.

“Nejire, you’re doing it again,” the blond-haired boy cuts in.

“Nejire” promptly stops, leaps to her feet and bows deeply, “I’m sorry! This is a really bad habit of mine. Also, I’ve never seen Tama willingly sit next to anyone who isn’t us!”

“Err…” Mirabel swallows, “Apology accepted. I…I just accidentally took his spot. I was just resting after finishing lunch.” With a stroke of good luck, the bell rings, providing her an exit from this situation, “Um, please excuse me! I have to get going!”

She quickly leaves the courtyard, three pairs of eyes watching her go. Mirabel doesn’t even care that they see her trip over her own feet as she reaches the door. She just keeps running until the courtyard has long left her field of vision.

When the unknown, curly-haired girl disappears from sight, Mirio turns to his childhood friend, “Seriously, who was that, Tamaki? I don’t think we’ve ever seen her before.”

Tamaki ducks his head, “I-I…I don’t know? S-She was a-already here…and s-she was willing t-to share…”

“Well…” Nejire adds her two yen, “you mustn’t have minded her presence since you willingly sat next to her. Tell me,” she suddenly pulls Tamaki close, “Did you talk to her? What was she like? Did she tell you her name?”

“N-No...she didn’t tell me,” if it was even possible, Tamaki tries to make himself even smaller, “S-She seemed…safe. She d-didn’t talk to me, o-or bother me.”

“Hmm, well, if she is a U.A. student, that means we might see her again,” Mirio surmises, before noticeably brightening, “I know! If she joins us, we’ll be perfectly matched! Two girls, two boys, two introverts and two extroverts!”

Tamaki simply buries his face into his hands, moaning in utter despair.

Mirabel didn’t bring up her encounter with Tamaki and his two friends when she had her afternoon lessons with Izuku. Partly because she wasn’t certain if that was merely a one-off thing, and partly because…she didn’t really know how to phrase it?

Getting to know someone because she unwittingly stole their sanctuary from daunting social situations is not typically how people first meet and get to know one another. And given the sheer incredulity of the situation, Mirabel isn’t quite sure if Izuku and Mrs. Inko would even believe her if she told them.

Regardless, the days continue on. Every so often, Mirabel would check the courtyard to see if the anxious boy was there. At first, the courtyard remained empty. But just as Mirabel began to think that her encounter with the boy was just a one-off, one innocuous Thursday afternoon, she and Izuku are just heading off to lunch, when suddenly, a loud, boisterous voice that she’d almost forgotten since that day echoes through the hallway.

“Ah! It’s you!”

Not too far down the hallway, Mirabel recognises the muscular blonde who approached her and the anxious boy at the tree that afternoon. The anxious boy in question is almost entirely hidden behind the blonde’s bulk, and the purple-haired girl with too many questions, whom she remembers is Nejire, is a little ways behind them. 

“We didn’t see you at the courtyard over the last few days,” the blonde comes up to them, “Tamaki was beginning to wonder if he’d get to see you again!”

“M-Mirio, please…”

Izuku turns to her, “Do you know them?”

“Oh?” Nejire goes to Izuku, “And who are you? I’ve never seen you around before. Are you friends with her? Are you two in the same class? And -”

Thankfully, before Nejire could subject Izuku to a rapid-fire questionnaire, “Mirio” grabs her arm, “You’re doing it again.”

“Ah! Sorry!”

“Uh…kind of?” Mirabel replies to Izuku’s question with an uncertain shrug, “Long story short, I accidentally stole Tamaki’s spot in this courtyard near the cafeteria because he doesn’t like being around too many people, and I got introduced to his friends because they were looking for him.” 

“Ah…huh,” Izuku nods, turning to the trio, “And you’ve been looking for Mariposa?”

“Oh, is that her name?” “Mirio” asks, to which Mirabel nods, “Well, nice to meetcha! It’s good to finally have a name for the unknown girl who Tamaki surprisingly tolerates!”

“Noooooo….”

“In all seriousness, though,” Nejire cuts in, “It really is surprising that Tamaki would willingly be in close proximity with a total stranger! Normally, he’d be terrified of anyone whom he doesn’t know.”

“And that’s why,” Mirio continues, “We decided that we should be friends!”

“Uh…what?” Izuku asks, utterly perplexed, while Mirabel is stunned silent.

“Tamaki evidently sees something in you,” Mirio says to Mirabel, “So it’s only natural that he, and by extension, us, get to know you better!”

“You’re included too, by the way,” Nejire tells Izuku, who is also stunned into silence, “Any friend of Mariposa is a friend of ours! Plus, we’ve been telling Tamaki for the longest time that he should get to know more people.”

“Err…shouldn’t Tamaki get a say in all of this?” Mirabel asks.

“Well, if we did, then Tamaki would just hide away from everyone and only tolerate us!” Mirio replies brightly, to which Tamaki, once again, moans in despair, “Plus, you two seem like good fun. The more the merrier, as my dad always said!”

“We’re just on our way to grab lunch,” Nejire says, “Why don’t you two join us? We can chat, and you can tell us everything about you two!”

Without waiting for an answer, Nejire throws an arm around Mirabel’s shoulders, and Mirio does the same for Izuku, with Tamaki still partially hidden behind the blonde. As they are guided towards the cafeteria, Izuku whispers to Mirabel, “Did we just get strong-armed into friendship?”

“I…think so?”

Both of them can agree, though, that this has got to be one of the weirdest ways of making friends.

To Be Continued.