Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Grey walls.

Grey walls everywhere. Padded. Secured. Imprisoned.

No sunlight ever reached this place. No whispers of the outside world dared to breach its suffocating silence. This was not a room—it was a cell. And within this cell stood a line of young children, no older than nine. Almost all of them possessed quirks—powerful ones, if the experiments conducted here were to be believed.

But among them stood one boy who did not belong. One boy who did not possess a quirk.

His gaze drifted upward, meeting the cold, judgmental stares of those who watched from the observation window above. Eyes devoid of compassion, devoid of life. They scrutinized, analyzed, and condemned without a word, their presence more suffocating than the room itself.

The children stood in perfect formation, rigid and unyielding as though they were soldiers awaiting orders. Their matching patient uniforms further stripped them of individuality, and yet, their sameness went deeper than appearance. It was in their eyes.

Empty.

Hollow.

Emotionless.

Their eyes reflected nothing—no fear, no hope, no rebellion. They were voids, mirrors to their broken souls. And yet, the boy without a quirk stood out even among them. His gaze was not empty, though it was quiet. Silent defiance and conflict lingered in the way he held himself, his back straight despite the suffocating pressure that sought to crush him.

The silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the faint hum of machinery. Somewhere, beyond the walls, the sound of something mechanical whirred, a reminder of the facility's purpose. It wasn't a school. It wasn't a home. It was a factory—a place that turned children into something else entirely. Soldiers. Weapons. Perfect humans.

"Candidate 17, Gray Kishimi. Step forth." a voice crackled through a speaker, sterile and monotone.

The boy's head snapped up. He knew better than to hesitate. Hesitation invited punishment—a lesson seared into his mind through countless demonstrations. Stepping forward, he felt the weight of every gaze on him—both those of the other children and the soulless eyes above. His bare feet pressed into the cold, unforgiving floor as he walked toward the designated door.

It slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing nothing but darkness beyond. The boy stepped through without pause, his expression unreadable. Behind him, the door closed with an echoing finality, sealing him into whatever trial awaited.

The children did not look after him. They stared ahead, their blank expressions unchanging, as if he had never existed at all.

The lights flickered on, illuminating a circular chamber far larger than the cell he had left behind. The walls were smooth and metallic, the air cold and sterile. At his feet lay a wooden staff, its worn surface a testament to its grim purpose. Across the room stood another child, his form twisted by a mutant quirk that rendered him more beast than human.

The boy, Gray, knew what this was. The duel was a routine. But it was not just any duel. This fight would determine the fate of both combatants. Victory meant harsher training, a grueling escalation of the suffering that already defined his existence. Defeat meant punishment, something dreadful, unrelenting punishment that the facility deemed appropriate for failure.

This was the monthly test, the facility's way of measuring progress. It wasn't about skill or growth; it was about survival. A spectacle to assess their worth as tools.

Gray tightened his grip on the staff as he picked it up, his mind racing. Losing was not an option. He had felt the facility's punishment before, its lessons burned into his body and mind. Winning was all that mattered here. Winning was survival.

He stepped forward, the cold floor biting at his feet. The other child snarled, their inhuman features twisting in anticipation. The room felt like a gladiatorial arena, the children its unwilling combatants, and the overseers its cruel spectators.

The two children picked up both their wooden staffs and each got into their battle stance. They both looked at each other in their equally empty eyes.

And with that, they launched at each other and began to fight. Gray darted forward, his movements calculated and swift, while the other child lunged with feral aggression. The wooden staffs clashed with a sharp crack, the sound reverberating in the cold chamber.

The mutant child's strength was overwhelming, each strike hammering down with brute force, but Gray's reflexes and precision kept him one step ahead. He sidestepped a heavy swing, the staff slicing through the air where he had just been, and retaliated with a quick jab to the ribs. The impact made the mutant child stagger, a low growl rumbling from his throat.

Gray's mind raced, analyzing every movement. His opponent's quirk-enhanced muscles gave him power, but they also slowed him down. Exploiting this, Gray shifted his strategy. He feinted left, drawing a wild swing, and then pivoted to the right, delivering a sharp blow to the back of the child's knee. The mutant stumbled, his balance faltering.

Sensing an opening, Gray pressed his advantage. He struck swiftly and precisely, aiming for weak points—the wrist, the collarbone, the shin. Each hit was designed to disable, not to maim. The mutant child roared in frustration, lashing out with reckless abandon, but Gray's footwork kept him out of reach.

Finally, with one fluid motion, Gray swept the staff low, catching his opponent's ankles and sending him crashing to the floor. The mutant child's staff clattered away, spinning across the chamber. Panting, Gray stood over his fallen opponent, his grip on the wooden staff firm but steady.

The room fell silent except for the faint hum of machinery. From the observation window above, the overseers watched, their expressions unreadable. Gray lowered his staff, his eyes never leaving his opponent, prepared for any sudden movements.

With that, victory was his.

But Gray did not feel elated by this fact as he stared down at his fallen opponent, whose entire demeanor had shifted to one of abject fear. The mutant boy's trembling hands clutched the floor as though it could offer him some form of solace. Gray couldn't help but meet his wide, terrified eyes with what could almost be considered an apologetic look—a fleeting trace of humanity in this hollow arena.

When the duel was declared over, the two boys were ordered to go their separate ways. Gray stepped back, his staff hanging loosely at his side, but he glanced over his shoulder as he left the chamber. His opponent was being dragged away by two members of the facility's staff, their grip on the boy's arms as unyielding as the cold steel walls surrounding them. The boy's face contorted in terror, his cries muffled by the oppressive silence of the place. Gray knew—they both knew—what awaited him.

Gray's footsteps echoed in the corridor as he returned to his assigned room. The sterile scent of the facility lingered in the air, clinging to him like an invisible weight. As he stepped inside, he came face to face with a taller, older, and more imposing figure. The man wore a pristine lab coat, his perfectly round glasses glinting under the fluorescent light. He was the architect of this nightmare, the one known only as 'The Headmaster.'

"Congratulations, Candidate 17. Yet again, you remain the victor of this month's progression exam," the Headmaster said, his voice cold and clinical, devoid of genuine praise.

Gray stood motionless, his expression impassive. He had learned long ago that emotion was a weakness in this place, one that could be exploited by those in power.

"Gray Kishimi," the Headmaster continued, his tone now laced with calculated pride. "You may not have a quirk, but your performance against these individuals—many of whom possess remarkable abilities—is nothing short of extraordinary. You have exceeded in both body and mind and soon enough, you will have earned your title as this facility's greatest subject. Soon, you will fulfill your father's vision, becoming the masterpiece he always intended you to be."

The words felt like chains, heavy and binding, yet Gray's face betrayed nothing. He simply nodded, knowing there was no room for resistance in the presence of the man who controlled his fate in this place.

With that, today's round of tests with their children and most especially, their most prized subject was complete. And Gray was set to go back to his home.

To his father.

Truthfully, Gray often questioned whether his home life was any better than the cold, unrelenting environment of the institution. In many ways, they felt the same. Sterile, suffocating, and devoid of warmth. Yet, there was one thing, one person, who made his home life bearable. Perhaps even...good.

"Gray! My baby! Are you alright? They didn't hurt you too badly today, did they?"

The familiar voice was soft yet brimming with concern. His mother knelt down, her arms wrapping tightly around him in a warm, loving hug. The contrast was jarring. Her gentle embrace against the harsh, calculated touch of the institution as well as his home. Gray hesitated for a moment, but then he hugged her back, feeling a rare warmth bloom in his chest, pushing away the dark feelings that threatened to consume him every day.

She was the reason that there was a sense of emotion and humanity that lingered within the young boy unlike the rest of the children that he was indoctrinated alongside with.

"Shall we go inside, Misses and Master Kishimi?" Suddenly, their moment was interrupted by the butler who had driven Gray home. It was an actual robot wearing the outfit of a butler. A single blue cycloptic eye glowed on its cylindrical head, which was adorned with two sleek antennas extending backward like mantis feelers.

Gray's mother looked up to him and smiled. "Of course, Ethan," she said as she got up, her hand resting gently on her son's shoulder. The robot escorted them into their sprawling home—a facade of wealth and propriety masking the corrupt and powerful criminal empire it truly was, all hidden behind the guise of a rich healthcare company.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Ethan? Just call me Maria." She said with a light smile.

The robot paused momentarily, tilting its head as if calculating the appropriate response. "Acknowledged, Maria. However, my programming dictates that formal titles are required for proper decorum."

Maria chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. "And how many times have I told you that you're more than just your programming?" The maid glanced at Gray endearingly, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "You can learn, just like Gray does every day. It's alright to adjust, you know."

Ethan's cycloptic eye flickered briefly, its antennae twitching slightly. "I will attempt to...adjust. However, I do not comprehend the necessity of informal address."

Maria smiled as they reached the grand looking elevator of their second home. "You will, in time. It's about connection, Ethan. About understanding the people you serve and care for."

The robot tilted its head again, his mechanical voice calm and professional. "I do not yet understand 'care' or 'emotion', as you put it, but I will attempt to process this input. Thank you for your advice, Mrs. Kishimi." Ethan said, unintentionally calling the maid mother formally once again.

Maria snorted.

Gray, silent during the exchange, watched the interaction closely. Though Ethan's responses were mechanical, Gray could see the faintest flicker of progress, like a light struggling to break through darkness. His mother's influence extended far beyond him, even reaching the seemingly emotionless robot.

Maria turned to Gray, brushing a hand gently through his hair. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you something warm to eat."

Gray nodded quietly, allowing her to guide him inside the closed healthcare building. They chose to eat at a small, secluded café nestled in the more rural area of the facility. Ethan, ever the precise and diligent butler, prepared their meal with mechanical efficiency.

The rest of the facility was a cold, clinical labyrinth of polished white walls, advanced technology and towering pillars, its starkness a constant reminder of the institution Gray endured daily. Maria had deliberately chosen this corner of the building to spare him that oppressive familiarity, hoping to create a space of comfort.

As they ate, Maria's gaze lingered on her son. His life, split between this home and the institution, was anything but joyful. She knew this. And yet, she always hoped to find moments where she could help him feel something more. It was a constant battle between the demands of his conditioning and the flicker of humanity she fought to nurture.

"Gray, how are you feeling?" Maria asked softly, her voice a gentle balm.

A few years ago, Gray would have ignored her concern, retreating behind a cold, emotionless facade. But now, something had changed. He hesitated, searching for the right words, grappling with the lessons drilled into him—that emotions were a weakness, a flaw.

"I..." he began, his voice uncertain. He faltered, the teachings of the headmaster weighing heavily on him. But when he looked at his mother, her eyes filled with unwavering love and patience, the warmth in his chest grew stronger, pushing back the icy grip of his upbringing.

Finally, he found the right word he would describe the warm, comfortable feeling he was having in this mother and son dinner bonding. His mind was torn on whether he should do what he was always programmed to do that is erase his emotions, or actually feel them.

"Cozy...I feel cozy, Mom. Peaceful." His voice was quiet but steady, and a small, tentative smile touched his lips which is the closest thing to happiness Maria had ever seen from him.

For a moment, Maria stared, her breath catching in her throat. Then, a radiant smile spread across her face, her eyes glistening with unspoken gratitude. It was the closest thing to joy she had seen in her son, a fragile yet beautiful glimmer of his humanity finally breaking through.

Maria's heart swelled with emotion. "That's wonderful, sweetheart. You deserve to feel cozy. To be at peace." she said, her voice trembling slightly.

She reached across the table and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Gray didn't pull away. Instead, he looked at her, a faint warmth blooming in his chest. It wasn't much, but it was something. A small victory against the numbness that had been forced upon him.

As they continued their meal in comfortable silence, Gray's thoughts drifted to his mother. She was a constant presence in his life, a steady light amidst the shadows.

She was the one who was there for him.

The only person who truly cared.

The one who tended to his wounds after the institution's brutal trials.

Who accepted him.

Who loved him.

She was the light in this dark life he lived.

Gray, a boy whose entire existence had been shaped by the belief that emotions were meaningless and strength was everything, couldn't help but feel something warm growing in his heart whenever he was with her. She had given him something no training regimen or calculated plan ever could. And he couldn't help but wonder,

Is this what they call...love?

After their dinner, Ethan approached them with his usual mechanical precision. "Misses and Master Kishimi, your father has requested your presence in the main office," he stated, his monotone voice devoid of emotion or understanding.

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. The warmth and comfort of their shared meal dissipated almost instantly, replaced by an oppressive dread that neither Maria nor Gray could entirely conceal.

Maria let out a slow breath, her smile fading but her resolve unshaken. She knelt to Gray's level, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Whatever happens, sweetheart, remember this—I can handle it. You don't need to put yourself in harm's way. Not like last time." Her voice was soft but firm, a quiet strength radiating from her words.

Gray's hands curled into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. "But—"

Maria shook her head gently, cutting him off. "No buts, Gray. You're so brave, but you don't have to be the one to protect me. That's my job, okay?" She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against his skin. "I'll be fine. I promise."

Gray searched her eyes, wanting to believe her but unable to shake the memory of his father's fury and the sting of trying to defend her. Finally, he nodded, though the tension in his small frame betrayed his unease.

Ethan, oblivious to the weight of the moment, waited silently by the doorway. "Shall we proceed?"

Maria stood, her hand never leaving Gray's shoulder. "Yes, Ethan. Let's go."

Together, they walked toward the main office, the sound of their footsteps echoing down the sterile, lifeless halls. The warmth of their dinner seemed like a distant memory, but Maria's touch remained steady, a quiet resolve to face the situation ahead.

The office doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a space as cold and unwelcoming as the man who occupied it. The walls were a muted gray, lined with meticulously organized shelves filled with files and ominous-looking documents. A large desk dominated the center of the room, behind which sat Osore Kishimi. His presence was as oppressive as the sterile decor. A man whose sharp suit and composed demeanor barely concealed the ruthless power he wielded.

His eyes, cold and calculating, flicked up as Maria and Gray entered. "Ah, there you are," he said, his tone laced with detached authority. "Gray, I've been informed of your performance at Erebus Institute. Another victory, I hear. Congratulations."

The words carried no warmth, only the weight of expectation. He gestured to the chairs before his desk, though his attention remained fixed on Gray. "Sit."

Gray hesitated, glancing at his mother. Maria gave him a small nod, her hand briefly squeezing his shoulder before they both sat down. Osore leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he continued.

"You've done well, my son. Every success brings you closer to fulfilling your purpose—to becoming the masterpiece this family needs. Once you graduate, you will take your rightful place at the head of this empire and ensure its legacy continues. You will be the next me."

Gray's fists clenched in his lap, even the idea of being like his father brought a sick feeling to his stomach. Beside him, Maria's face remained calm, but her knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of her chair. It seems that she feels the same way. She knows that this is all that he talks about and how he views own son. But, no matter how many times she hears it, she just couldn't stand it.

"This empire," Osore continued, gesturing around him, "is built on power, precision, and control. The world out there favors strength, and quirks are the ultimate currency. You, Gray, are quirkless. That alone is a disadvantage no one will overlook. But I've given you the tools to rise above it, to prove your worth. And you will. Because in this world, worth is everything."

He never really sugarcoated the fact that this huge healthcare company that he ran was indeed nothing but a facade to hide the criminal empire that he ran underground and all around the world since his company, Kishimi Healthcare, is multinational. Osore soon continues his monologue about proud he would be of Gray once he finally graduated from that place and lead this empire and to be the next him.

It was then that Maria couldn't take it. She would not stand and let this monster that is her husband talk to her beloved son as if he were some kind of vessel and thing to transform into his dark 'masterpiece'. She would NOT allow her husband to ruin her son's life. Maria's voice cut through the cold monologue, soft but unyielding. "Enough."

Osore's gaze snapped to her, his expression darkening. "What did you say?"

Maria straightened in her chair, meeting his glare without flinching. "I said, enough. He's a child, Osore. Not a project, not a vessel for your ambitions. A child who deserves a life outside of...this!" She gestured to the room, to the very empire he took pride in.

Osore's eyes narrowed. "This child," he said, his voice dangerously low, "needs to understand the world he lives in. It is not kind. It does not reward weakness. You coddle him, Maria, and that will only ensure his failure."

"Failure?" Maria's voice rose, trembling with suppressed anger. "You call it failure to want him to be happy? To want him to be safe? When will it be enough for you, Osore?! How far will you push him before you're finally satisfied?!"

"When he is strong," Osore snapped, slamming a hand on the desk. The sound echoed through the room, making Gray flinch. "When he is unstoppable. That is the only way he will survive in a world that will never accept him for what he is."

Maria's voice cracked as she pleaded, her hands gripping the arms of her chair. "He doesn't need to be unstoppable. He needs to be loved."

Osore leaned forward, his expression a mask of disdain. "Love will not shield him from this world. Only power will. That is why, he will become my masterpiece."

The room fell silent, the tension thick and suffocating. Maria suddenly rose from her chair, her face a mixture of fury and anguish. Without warning, she grabbed the front of Osore's immaculate suit, yanking him forward. "He's not and will never be your 'masterpiece'!" she shouted, her voice shaking with emotion. "HE'S MY SON!!!"

The words hung in the air like a challenge, daring Osore to respond. For a brief moment, he froze, his cold eyes narrowing in shock. Then, with a harsh, deliberate motion, he raised his hand and struck her across the face.

SMACK!

The sound of the slap echoed through the office, sharp and unforgiving.

Maria stumbled, falling to the ground. Gray gasped, his eyes wide with fear and anger. He wanted to scream out her name. He wanted to jump in and protect her. But he remembered his mother's promise and resisted as much as it always hurt him to see his mother getting beat by his father. Even years ago when he was still emotionally numb that he couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt and worry whenever this was happening. He was resisting, but for how long?

Osore stood over them, his expression unchanging, his voice devoid of remorse. "You forget your place, Maria."

Maria looked up at him, her eyes blazing despite the pain. "And you forget what it means to be a father," she spat, her voice trembling but defiant.

Her words only fueled Osore's fury. He raised his hand again, his voice a low growl. "You dare talk back to me?!" His strikes came harder, more brutal than before, as if he intended to break not just her body but her spirit.

Gray's breathing quickened, his small fists clenched tightly at his sides. His mother's cries echoed in his ears, each one tearing at his resolve. He couldn't take it anymore. Against her words, against the promise she had made him swear, Gray bolted forward, throwing himself at his father's leg.

"Stop...! P-Please... stop!" he cried, his voice breaking and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the cold indifference his father demanded of him.

Osore froze, his attention snapping to the boy clinging to his leg. He looked down with a disdainful glare, his lips curling into a sneer. "You've been acting really rebellious lately, haven't you, boy?" he said, his tone low and seething with barely-contained rage.

Maria's eyes widened in fear. "Gray, no!" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she reached toward him.

Osore's hand tightened into a fist, his shadow looming over his son. He drew back his arm, prepared to strike. But before he could act, the shrill ring of his office phone cut through the tension. The sound echoed in the chaotic silence, breaking the moment.

RIIIIIING! RIIIIIING!

Osore growled in frustration, his hand lowering. "Urgh! You're lucky I have work to do," he spat, his tone dripping with venom. "Whatever. Just get the hell out of here. E3N, get them out of my sight!"

Ethan stepped forward, bowing politely. "As you wish, sir," the robot butler said, his voice devoid of emotion as he approached Maria and Gray.

Maria, still trembling, pulled Gray into her arms, shielding him as best as she could. Ethan's cold, mechanical presence loomed over them, but even he seemed to hesitate for the briefest moment before extending his hand to guide them out of the room.

Together, they stumbled out, Maria holding Gray close, her whispered reassurances barely audible over her pounding heart. Behind them, Osore's piercing glare followed, his fury barely contained as he reached for the phone to attend to his "important matters."

As Ethan was escorting them out, Maria had insisted that they go to the building entrance. It was a long, quiet walk. No one knew how to speak after what had happened. But Maria had an idea. There was a reason she insisted on being taken to the entrance. She was about to do something her husband would explicitly forbid. She was going to take her son outside, to see the world beyond the oppressive confines of training rooms and hospital walls. It was her small rebellion as well as a chance to give Gray a fleeting moment of freedom and light that very rarely or never got his whole life.

As they neared the entrance, Maria glanced at Ethan, whose mechanical footsteps matched their slow pace. She took a steadying breath and spoke. "Ethan, I'm asking you for a favor. Let us go...just for tonight."

Ethan's cycloptic eye flickered briefly as he processed her request. "My apologies, madam Kishimi," he said in his monotone voice. "But master Osore has explicitly ordered that Master Gray is to remain confined within the premises. Contact with the outside world is strictly forbidden."

Maria stopped walking, turning to face the robot butler directly. Her voice, though trembling, carried a rare intensity. "Ethan, please. I'm not asking as someone under Osore's rule. I'm asking as a mother. My son needs this. He needs to know there's more to life than...this place." She gestured around them, her tone pleading.

Ethan paused, his cycloptic eye focusing on her. "Madam, my programming prioritizes master Osore's orders. I cannot defy him."

Maria stepped closer, her voice softening but remaining firm as she latched onto the butler's hands. "You can. You are more than your programming, Ethan. You've seen what he does to us. You've seen how much Gray suffers. For once, do something that isn't for him. Do something for Gray. Let him have one night where he can just...just be a boy." She clenched her jaw as she gazed at the robot butler, her eyes pleading.

"Please..." She begged, her tone sounding as vulnerable as ever.

Ethan's antennae twitched, his frame stiffening as he processed her words. The silence that followed felt heavy, almost tangible. Then, for the first time, Ethan's head tilted slightly, as if in contemplation. His cycloptic eye dimmed briefly before reigniting with a softer glow. For once in the robot's life, he decided to do something that was not in the interest or an order from his maker and decided to let the mother and son go.

"One night," Ethan said, his tone unchanged but his words deliberate. "I will escort you to the boundary and ensure your return before midnight."

Maria's shoulders sagged with relief, tears brimming in her eyes. Overcome with gratitude, she did something that Ethan, in all his calculations, could not have anticipated. She lunged herself toward the robot butler and wrapped her hands around his metal neck, giving him a warm embrace while uttering tearful gratitude. "Thank you, Ethan...! Thank you so much!"

Ethan, for once, did not know what to do or say. His circuits hummed with unfamiliar data, a sensation he could not quantify—a growing something that defied his programming, something he didn't understand yet. For the first time, his calculated world felt... uncertain.

"I..." Ethan began, his voice faltering slightly. Not knowing how to respond, he hesitantly lifted his arms and attempted to return the embrace. Though awkward and mechanical, the gesture was unmistakable. "I am...glad to have been of great service to you, Maria," he said, the name coming out softly, as though testing its weight.

He finally addressed her by her first name, as she had always insisted, and for Maria, that single act made her heart swell with even more gratitude. Maria released him and stepped back, wiping her tears away as she composed herself.

Ethan straightened, his posture resuming its usual precision. "Please follow me, madam Kishimi. Master Gray," he said, his voice now steady.

Maria placed a gentle hand on Gray's shoulder, guiding him forward. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's go."

Her son tilter his head curiously at her. "Go where?" He asked.

Maria smiled at her son endearingly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Somewhere special. Somewhere where we can just be us for a little while."

Gray blinked, confusion flickering across his face. "But...father said—"

"Don't worry about what he said," Maria interrupted gently, her voice firm but warm. "Tonight, it's just you, me, and the stars."

Ethan, observing the exchange in silence, adjusted his posture. "I shall ensure your safe passage and prompt return," he said, his cycloptic eye glowing faintly as he turned to lead the way.

Maria took Gray's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's make a memory."

With that, they followed Ethan toward the entrance, stepping closer to the freedom Maria had fought so desperately to give her son, even if only for one night.

After bidding their farewells to Ethan, the mother and son stepped out into the cool night air, the stars scattered like tiny diamonds across the inky sky. The world outside the confines of their home and the institution felt vast and liberating, even if Gray seemed indifferent.

Maria led Gray through the quiet, near-empty streets of the city. The night was calm, the air cool and crisp, carrying a faint whisper of wind that brushed against their skin. The world around them was alive with subdued hums—the distant buzz of streetlights, the faint rumble of the occasional passing car, and the soft murmur of the city settling into slumber.

Gray's eyes darted around, wide and curious despite his expressionless face. For the first time in his life, he was truly seeing the world—not through the controlled environments of Erebus Institute or fabricated simulations, but as it was. The towering buildings, the endless roads, the glimmer of streetlights reflecting off puddles from an earlier rain. Everything felt surreal and vast, almost overwhelming.

Maria glanced at him, her heart aching at his stoic demeanor. She had hoped the freedom of the night would spark something within him. Yet, he remained quiet, his posture tense, his gaze flickering from one sight to another without a word.

Meanwhile, Gray's mind was still running amuck after what had happened between his mother and father. Inside, he was trying to sort out all these conflicting thoughts and emotions, wondering whether if he should snub them out and erase them as he was forced to do his whole life, or embrace his feelings as his mother always taught him.

"What are you thinking about, sweetheart?" Maria asked, her voice gentle as they walked side by side. She reached out, brushing his gray hair back from his face.

Gray hesitated, his lips pressing together as if trying to find the right words. Finally, his voice broke the silence, quiet and uncertain. "I...I know you didn't want me to interfere, but...I did," he admitted. "And...I don't know why. It...felt like my legs just moved on their own."

Maria stopped walking, turning to face him fully. Her eyes softened as she placed her hands gently on his shoulders. "Oh, Gray," she said, her tone tender and also glad that her son is finally tapping into those emotions he was forced to bury. "That's because you care. What happened back there...those thoughts running through your head, those feelings in your heart—you're finally feeling emotions."

"Emotions, huh..." Gray echoed, tilting his head slightly and his tone contemplating.

Maria nodded, her smile gentle and reassuring. "Yes, emotions. Like what happened earlier—you felt worried about me and stepped in. That worry, that anger...it's natural to feel that way when someone you love is hurt." She explained before her gaze hardened slightly at her son. "But, please, next time, don't ever do that again. I don't want you to get hurt more that you already have. When your father set his eyes on you, I felt like my heart was going to explode...!" Maria exaggerated, causing Gray to tilt his head in confusion.

"But...hearts can't explode." He said, taking his mother's words literally.

Maria snorted. "I was exaggerating, Gray."

Gray's brow furrowed as he processed the words his mother said. "Yeah, but...Father and the Headmaster always said that what I feel doesn't matter. That emotions aren't useful in producing results." He argued back, using the logic and lesson that was constantly drilled into his head.

Maria sighed deeply, her heart aching at the conditioning her son had endured. She placed her hands on his small shoulders, holding him firmly but tenderly. "Honey, listen to me. Emotions are not weaknesses. They're what make us human. It's okay to feel sad, angry, or joyful. It's okay to be afraid." She said before her gazed turned more lightheartedly determined. "But you mustn't let your fears control you. You're a brave boy, Gray. I know you are."

Gray's lips pressed into a thin line as he absorbed her words. "But...I don't know how to handle them," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "It's all...very new to me."

Maria leaned forward and wrapped him in a warm embrace, her arms enveloping him with a love that seemed to shield him from the weight of the world. "You don't have to handle them alone, sweetheart. I'm here. Always. And I love you more than anything in this world."

And she meant those words. She was a mother who had her freedom stripped away from her husband. A mother who is doing her best to raise her son whom she's grown to love within her unfortunate circumstances. A mother who, despite her circumstances, chose to do something, the only thing, she can do: To raise her son. To not let her husband's ambitions ruin his future and guide him toward a better path. To shower him with unconditional love, acceptance, affection, and hope that he was denied his whole life.

Gray hesitated at first, his arms awkwardly hanging at his sides. But then, slowly, he lifted them and returned the hug. His hold was tentative, but there was a growing warmth in the gesture. "I...love you too, Mom," he whispered, the words shaky but sincere.

Maria pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands brushing his gray hair away from his face. Her smile was radiant, filled with hope. "Now," she said, her tone shifting to something more playful, "let's enjoy this night, okay?" She said as she stood up.

Gray nodded, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips. "Okay."

Wee-oo! Wee-oo! Wee-ooo!

Their moment of solace was interrupted by a sudden noise in the distance—the piercing wail of police sirens cutting through the stillness of the night. Red and blue lights flashed faintly in the distance, growing brighter as police cars sped past them. Above, the faint silhouettes of pro heroes with flight quirks streaked across the sky, their urgency palpable.

Gray's head turned sharply to follow the commotion, his blue eyes wide with wonder and confusion. "What's happening?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence.

Maria placed a comforting hand on his back. "It's likely a hero and villain fight nearby," she explained softly. "The police and heroes must be trying to stop it."

Gray continued to stare at the fading lights, his expression unreadable. Unlike other children his age who might have been thrilled or awestruck by the prospect of seeing pro heroes in action, Gray's feelings were far more subdued. This was new to him—he had spent his entire life sheltered, hearing only glimpses of stories about heroes through his mother. The chaos and noise unsettled him in ways he couldn't articulate.

"Heroes..." Gray murmured, the word feeling foreign on his tongue. "Like All Might?"

Maria smiled softly. "Yes, like All Might. He's the number one hero, the Symbol of Peace. Remember how I told you about him? How he protects everyone and always saves the day with a smile?"

Gray nodded slightly, recalling the stories she often told him during quiet moments. But now, faced with the reality of blaring sirens and chaotic energy, he wasn't sure how he felt. "It doesn't look...peaceful," he admitted quietly.

"No, it doesn't," she shook her head lightly and agreed gently. "But sometimes peace requires bravery and hard work. It's not always easy, Gray, but that's why heroes like All Might exist—to help make the world safer."

Gray's gaze drifted back to the commotion in the distance. His breathing quickened as he tried to process the sights and sounds, but the emotions welling up inside him were overwhelming. He finally turned to his mother, his voice trembling slightly. "I think...I'm afraid." He said as his grip on his mother's hand tightened. "I...want to go to somewhere more safe."

Maria smiled understandingly. "Of course, Gray."

Not far away, a disheveled man stumbled through the shadows of the city streets. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body tensed with adrenaline as the distant wail of sirens echoed in his ears. "Damn it!" he hissed under his breath, glancing over his shoulder. The number one hero, All Might, was relentless, and even though he'd managed to lose him for the moment, he knew that wouldn't last. The memory of the hero's towering figure and booming voice haunted him as he darted into an empty alleyway to catch his breath.

The man, known only by the alias Glaive, clenched his fists in frustration. His grand plan that was a meticulously orchestrated bank heist with his associates was now in shambles. The money was gone, his crew scattered or captured, and the Symbol of Peace himself had nearly caught him. He slammed his fist against a nearby wall, ignoring the sting of pain. "Think, damn it," he muttered. "There's got to be a way out of this mess...!"

Glaive's eyes darted around, searching for an escape route or a place to lay low. The sound of approaching sirens spurred him into action. He couldn't afford to stay still for long. "They're not getting me," he growled, gripping the pistol tucked into his belt. "I'm not going down empty-handed!"

Maria and Gray walked hand in hand through a lonely, dimly lit alleyway. The distant hum of the city felt like a world away, and for a moment, the quiet was comforting. Maria's gaze drifted down to her son, and she smiled softly.

They might've not spoken to each other, but their presence for each other was more than enough. Gray thought back to just how much his mother had been caring for him a lot these past few years and especially recently. He's come to the realization that this warm feeling that he's getting was that he was simply receiving the unconditional love and acceptance from his mother.

And considering his life at Erebus institute, as well as the type of person his father is...he really didn't want it to end.

The sound of hurried footsteps shattered their peace. A ragged figure stumbled into the alley, his breathing heavy and erratic. Glaive, panting and clutching his pistol, darted into the dim light. His eyes scanned his surroundings, and when they landed on Maria and Gray, they gleamed with desperation.

"Well, well," Glaive sneered, straightening his posture. "Looks like my luck's turned around."

Maria instinctively pulled Gray behind her, shielding him with her body. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice calm but firm.

Glaive raised his pistol, gesturing toward them with a menacing smirk. "Everything valuable you've got. Money, jewelry—whatever you're carrying. Now."

Gray froze in a rare state of fear. Maria's heart pounded, but she kept her composure. "Please, don't hurt my son," she pleaded, her voice steady. "I'll give you whatever I have."

Quickly, she removed her necklace and earrings, handing them over with trembling hands. She fished out a small wallet from her pocket and extended it to Glaive. "This is all I have. Take it. Just leave us alone."

Glaive grinned deviously as he snatched the items, shoving them into his pockets. The distant wail of sirens reached his ears, and his expression twisted with frustration. He thought he had lost them. "Damn it!" he growled, his grip tightening on the pistol. Without warning, he raised the weapon and fired!

BANG!

The gunshot echoed through the alley as Maria staggered, clutching her stomach as Glaive fled the alleyway.

"Huh?" Gray was frozen. His blue eyes were wide in shock and fear. It was as if everything was in slow-motion as he process the sight of his mother getting mercilessly shot down.

Once she hit the ground, it was then that he snapped back to reality and tried his best to tend to his mother's wounds the best that he can, his voice uncharacteristically filled with panic, urgency and fear.

But as he did, he noticed that there was a certain accepting look in his mother's eyes and a smile forming. Gray's panic was growing as he frantically tried to tend to his mother to stay with him as best as he can but Maria held her son's cheek with her bloodied hand, staining Gray's cheek but he didn't care.

"It's okay..." She gave her son a final warm smile and some final encouraging words, "Don't be afraid, Gray." She said before succumbing to her wounds.

Gray's breathing grew more and more rapid as everything he went through flashed in his mind.

All those training sessions, those punishments he's had to endure, those lessons that were drilled into his mind, body, and spirit, those times he's been forced to be emotionally numb.

All of that didn't matter now. Not when the person, the only person in his life that had given him hope, light, and unconditional love was now gone. The sounds of those police sirens might've been closing the distance, but it had become white noise at this point. He didn't care as it was too late.

Tears began to form in Gray's face and stream down his face as he wailed in agony, finally letting out all the pent up emotions he was forced to bury.

It was during that night, the boy cried for the very first time in his life.

A few years later.

The city skyline of Musutafu city loomed in the distance, a sprawling metropolis of steel and glass that stretched as far as the eye could see. Amidst the bustling streets and towering skyscrapers, one figure moved with purpose, his gaze fixed on the horizon ahead.

His gray hair caught the light of the setting sun as he made his way down the empty sidewalk. As Gray Kishimi walked, his thoughts drifted away, his mind consumed by his troubled past but he shook them off as he took on this stroll for a relaxing time, not to meddle in unwanted memories. He keeps telling himself that he's come along way since that night.

Lost in his thoughts, Gray rounded a corner and found himself at the edge of Takobah Beach, a place that no one goes to anymore due to the fact that it was now ridden in all kinds of rubbish and trash. So much so that it may as well be called a junkyard at this point. An illegal dumping ground. It was a shame, really as it was a rather beautiful beach before. Gray had been wanting to get it cleaned up for quite some time but turns out, there was someone else who's already started.

"HHGNGH!"
"C'mon, Young Midoriya! Move those legs!"

Gazing down from the sidewalk, Gray sees two figures. One was a young, skinny green haired boy with diamond shaped freckles on both of his cheeks who Gray suspected that he may be the same age as him. The other was a much more skinny man who may as well be a skeleton who was motivating and cheering the training young boy on to pull a large fridge. His blonde, yellow hair was wavy, with two long strands coming down from his hairline and framing his face.

He has been watching this pair for quite some time and he's discovered many surprising things. For one, the skinny, blonde man is actually All Might, believe it or not. Although to be fair, Gray already had many suspicions and theories on the No.1 Hero's reason for appearing less and less lately. Seeing him transform just confirmed a few major things for him. The other thing that surprised him was the quirk they talked about: 'One For All' as they call it.

At first he was confused, which was rare for him. Transfer a quirk? How is that possible? As long as he remembered, you're either born with a quirk or not. And transferring your quirk should not be possible unless it's through quirk marriages, which even then would only be a technicality. But then he continued eavesdropping on them just to get more information and a full scale of what he needed to know about this 'One For All'.

Yes, eavesdropping. Is it wrong? Perhaps. Does he care? No.

It annoyed the gray-haired teen that All Might was being vague when explaining the quirk. He hated when important information was kept from him, which always led him to do whatever he could to uncover the truth. Gray observed the green-haired boy, hoping to gauge if he knew more about this 'One For All.' But from the looks of it, Midoriya seemed as in the dark as he was.

Gray quietly exhaled in exasperation. Even though he might have hit a dead end, he at least got an overview of what 'One For All' was. Apparently, it was a stockpiling quirk that had been passed down through exactly eight generations, and now Midoriya was the ninth holder. It was a quirk that grew more powerful with each generation, leading to the present.

However, as shocking as this was to him, this raised only more questions: If there was a 'One For All,' what about it's 'All For One'? Because of the whole, old ancient pledge that this quirk seemed to be based on. Or is there such a thing? How was the quirk transferred, anyway? Could Midoriya's body even handle it? Considering that transferring a quirk is not something a natural body may or may not be able to handle. This entire situation caused Gray Kishimi's mind to speculate and wonder about many possibilities.

Did this Midoriya really jump the gun and accept this completely unknown and potentially dangerous quirk without knowing exactly what it was or what he was getting himself into? Granted, it was the No.1 Hero, All Might, but didn't he at least ask about the price or risks of gaining such a power? Didn't All Might share those crucial details, especially for something of this scale?! Gray exasperated.

This whole situation has reckless written all over it.

He also found out that the green-haired boy, whose name he now knows is Izuku Midoriya, is quirkless. This revelation surprised Gray, as he himself is also quirkless. Unlike what some might expect, Gray wasn't envious. He simply didn't care. Gray had already solidified his resolve to become a hero in his own way, whether the world liked it or not. And he didn't need a quirk to do so.

He's already come to learn that quirks aren't the real powers of this world.

But what he does care is whatever this boy was getting himself into. And he wonders what he's going to do with this information. Does he keep it to himself? Does he tell someone? Or does he pretend to just not know?

Gray mulled over the possibilities, weighing the potential consequences of each choice. This was more than just idle curiosity—Midoriya was diving headfirst into something monumental and potentially dangerous. Gray felt an unusual sense of responsibility, a need to ensure that Midoriya truly understood the gravity of the path he was on. Gray was surprised by his own thoughts and feelings. Meddling in someone's business, sure he's done in the past, but to this extent was something he had never done before.

'How should I approach this?' He wonders. I can't simply just go up  there and say, 'hey, I notice that you're having trouble training for the top-secret quirk you're about to attain which shouldn't be possible and I want to help you'. Gray exasperated, running a hand through his gray hair. He needed a plan, a way to approach Midoriya without raising suspicion or revealing too much about what he knew.

Damn it, why is talking to new people so hard?

'Maybe I can start by casually offering help with his training,' he thought. 'I do have a dojo after all. That way, I can learn more about his situation and see if there's anything I can do to assist him without making things awkward.' With a determined nod, Gray decided to find the right moment to approach Midoriya, hoping his instincts would guide him through this delicate situation.

Izuku Midoriya was still doing his best to clean up this beach after All Might had gone on patrol. All of this was still quite unbelievable for him. He was being trained by the no.1 hero and his all time favorite hero, All Might! And best of all, he was finally about to receive a quirk! He could finally fulfil his dream of becoming a hero!

However, the green-haired boy couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. After spending his whole life quirkless, he still couldn't help but feel like he cheated. He wonders how his mother would react to how he suddenly got a quirk after 14 years. Or how Kacchan would react to that matter.

Actually, scratch that, Izuku didn't want to know. Kacchan would probably accuse him for 'lying for all his life' or something like that and send him yet another barrage of explosions and degrading insults.

Yeah that sounds about right.

Izuku sighed. Nonetheless, he would still have to think of a convincing lie about this. As Izuku struggled to move a particularly heavy piece of debris, his thoughts were interrupted when He turned to see a boy with gray hair and a serious expression walking toward him.

The boy stopped a few feet away, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "Hello there," he said formally, his voice calm but uncertain.

Izuku looked up, startled. He didn't expect there to be anyone strolling in a beach like this. "Oh, hi!" he replied with a smile, trying to catch his breath. "Can I help you with something?"

The boy shifted awkwardly, glancing around before meeting Izuku's gaze. "I've been watching you for a while," he admitted bluntly. The moment those words left his mouth, Gray wanted to slap himself in the face. That was such a terrible way to start off a conversation. Especially in this circumstance.

The green-haired boy in front of him was also surprised if his raised brows of surprise was anything to go by.

"W-watching you train with your, um, teacher, I guess. It looks pretty intense." And he watched Izuku's face contort into an alarmed expression this time. Great, Gray. You're making this worse for yourself. Going ahead and admitting that you potentially saw and heard the other form and the national secret weakness and power of the most powerful and important Hero in the country. Go ahead and tell him that you know his home and IP address at this point, why don't you?

"W-what?!" The green-haired boy exclaimed in shock and worry and Gray mentally facepalmed at himself. Ugh! I suck at this, he thought despairingly.

Gray wanted to shrivel up into a ball and die.

"S-sorry," he mumbled, trying to salvage the situation. "I didn't mean to sound creepy. I just... noticed you working really hard, and I thought-" Gray then slumps and sighs in defeat before quickly re-composing himself once again while ruffling the back of his hair. "I'm sorry. Let's try that again. My name is Gray Kishimi. What's yours?" He asked, pretending didn't already know his name.

Izuku just stares at him, dumbfounded and confused. But he still tries to be kind to him, seeing that the gray-haired teen is visibly struggling to converse with him. "Uhm, I-I'm Izuku M-Midoriya." He replied with an understanding but also wary smile.

Gray took a deep breath, relieved that Izuku was giving him a chance. "Nice to meet you, Midoriya-san. I...couldn't help but notice you're training really hard here. Are you...preparing for something specific?"

Izuku hesitated to answer. He couldn't tell if this Gray Kishimi knew his secret or not, so he answered with a half-truth. "Yeah, I'm...training for the U.A. entrance exam," he admitted. "It's my dream to become a hero!" He said, this time for enthusiastically, trying to lighten up the mood.

Gray internally gasped at this opportunity. Finally! A topic he could build a foundation upon in a conversation! "Really? Me too." He said seriously but also a bit nervously. Talking to people really wasn't his strong suit.

Izuku's eyes widened in surprise, but also excitement by the prospect of having a friend to possibly train with. "You're applying for U.A too? That's amazing!" He complimented with a blinding smile. A smile that left Gray speechless for a moment. He had never seen anything so...bright.

"Yeah, which is why I was wondering if we could...train together?" he asked a bit unsurely with an awkward shrug.

Izuku hesitated for a moment. He would love to have a training buddy with him! But he also had to keep his training sessions with All Might a secret (still having the benefit of the doubt and assuming that Gray didn't know it) and clean up this trash-ridden beach in ten months.

"That sounds great!" Izuku replied, trying to balance his excitement with caution. "But I, uh, have this really intense schedule. You see, I'm also working on cleaning up this beach, and it's a big part of my training. It might be hard to coordinate."

Gray held his chin thoughtfully, trying to think of a way to overcome this. He made a suggestion. "I do know a place where we can both train. A dojo. It's open, usually after school hours. And it's not that far from here. I have it's card if you want to know it's phone number and location." Gray reached into his pocket and pulled out the business card for his Dojo and gave it to Izuku.

Gray couldn't help but feel a little bristled at himself as now this just feels like he's just finished making a business deal. But at least he's making progress.

Izuku accepted the card, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. "A dojo? That sounds really cool! I've never trained in one before." He glanced down at the card, reading the neatly printed information. "Are you already training there?"

Gray nodded, trying to keep his tone casual despite the nervousness that still lingered. "Yeah, I've been training there for a while now. It's...nothing fancy, but it's quiet and has everything you'd need to work on strength, technique, or whatever else you're focusing on." He lied a little as to not seem a little showy by the fact that he owns the dojo. It served as his training ground not that far from his own home.

Izuku smiled, appreciating Gray's effort to connect. "Thanks for this! I'll think about it and let you know if I can make it work with my schedule. It'd be great to have someone to train with!"

Gray extended his hand, his movements slightly hesitant. Izuku looked at it for a moment, then grasped it firmly, his smile widening. "I'll...see you then." Gray said, trying his best to have an actual connection with someone else after that tragic night.

And with that handshake, the two people, each burdened by their own fated destinies, had officially met. A meeting that would intertwine their paths and change the course of their futures forever.

Chapter Text

Izuku Midoriya stood frozen for a moment, staring down at the business card in his hand.

'Raven Dojo.' The letters were bold and simple, neatly printed against a deep black background. Below the name, an address and phone number were listed, along with a small emblem—a silver raven in flight.

He turned the card between his fingers, still processing what had just happened.

Kishimi-san...offered to train with me.

"Kishimi-!...-san...?"

Izuku looked up, instinctively searching for his new acquaintance, but Gray was already gone. The boy had vanished without a sound, like a ghost slipping into the shadows.

That was...weird.

"YOUNG MIDORIYA!"

"AHH!"

Izuku nearly jumped out of his thoughts as a booming voice erupted behind him. He whirled around to see All Might in his buff form, looming over him with his usual grin.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your deep thoughts!" All Might chuckled, placing his hands on his hips. "You looked like you were contemplating the mysteries of the universe!"

Izuku clutched his chest, trying to calm his pounding heart. "All Might! W-What are you doing here?!"

The No. 1 Hero tilted his head. "Well, I was patrolling the area to make sure you weren't overworking yourself...and yet, here you are, standing around, lost in thought!" His grin widened. "What's on your mind, my boy?"

Izuku hesitated, then glanced down at the business card again.

"Actually...something interesting happened," he admitted.

All Might's brows raised. "Oh?"

Izuku took a breath and explained. "While I was training, I met someone, his name is Gray Kishimi. He's around my age, and he's also applying to U.A." He glanced up, his voice growing more excited. "And he offered to train together at his dojo!"

All Might blinked in surprise. "A dojo?"

Izuku nodded. "Yeah! He said it's usually open after school hours. I wanted to ask if I could join him—y'know, as long as I still keep up with my training here." He explained, showing his given business card as proof.

The older man crossed his arms, humming thoughtfully. Izuku watched as All Might's grin faltered slightly, replaced by a more serious expression.

For a moment, he felt a twinge of nervousness.

"Wait—what if All Might says no? What if I just made a mistake?"

After a long pause, All Might sighed, but his lips quirked into a half-smile.

"That's great, Young Midoriya."

Izuku perked up. "Really?!"

"Of course!" All Might laughed. "With all the fanboyish texts you send me constantly, I was beginning to worry if I was your only friend!"

Izuku's face immediately turned red.

"A-A-A-ALL MIGHT!" he stammered. "Y-You don't have to say it like that!"

All Might laughed even harder, clearly enjoying his student's embarrassment.

Izuku groaned, covering his face with his hands. 'Why did I send him those texts?! WHAT WAS I THINKING?!'

After a moment, All Might patted Izuku's shoulder, his tone softening. "Jokes aside, I think it's good that you have someone to train with."

Izuku peeked out from behind his hands. "So...does that mean I can go?"

All Might exhaled, returning to his teacher mode. "Yes, but under one condition, Young Midoriya."

Izuku swallowed. "What is it?"

"You must not tell this Gray Kishimi about One For All," All Might said firmly. "Your quirk, your training, everything we're doing here must remain between us."

Izuku nodded quickly, not even hesitating. "Of course! I wouldn't tell anyone!"

(Not knowing that Gray already figured it out on his own.)

All Might gave him an approving nod. "Good! Also, don't forget! This beach still needs to be cleaned within ten months. Your physical training remains the top priority, got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Izuku replied with determination.

All Might clapped a hand on his back. "Then I see no problem with you training with your new friend!"

Izuku smiled brightly, gripping the business card a little tighter.

Because for the first time in years...

He may have made a real friend!

...Even if said friend might be a little on the weirder, socially awkward side from first impressions, but then again, who was he to talk?

The next day after yet another grueling day of middle school, Izuku decided to go to the dojo place that Kishimi offered.

The Raven Dojo was much larger than Izuku expected.

Tucked away in a quiet part of the city, the traditional-style building was immaculate. Polished wooden floors, high ceilings, and walls lined with neatly arranged training equipment. A few decorative raven emblems adorned the pillars, adding to the dojo's reserved yet dignified atmosphere.

It felt...intimidating.

His eyes swept across the neatly arranged training equipment, the polished floors reflecting the dim overhead lights. Everything was precise, orderly, almost clinical.

And in the center of it all, Gray Kishimi stood perfectly still, waiting.

The moment Izuku stepped inside, Gray's sharp gray eyes locked onto him, unreadable as ever.

"You're here," Gray stated flatly, his voice calm, even.

Izuku chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah! T-Thanks for inviting me! This place is amazing!"

Gray gave the smallest nod, but his expression didn't change. There was no pride, no warmth, no acknowledgment beyond the bare minimum.

"Follow me," he said simply, turning toward the training mats.

Izuku blinked, caught slightly off-guard by the sudden swiftness of getting straight to business. "Oh...O-Okay."

Gray stopped at the center of the room and turned to face him. "Before we begin, let me formally welcome you to Raven Dojo. While we train here, I expect discipline and effort. If at any point you struggle, inform me, and I will adjust accordingly."

Izuku blinked. That almost sounded...rehearsed.

Then, without missing a beat, Gray continued, "We will begin with endurance drills. One hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, and one hundred strikes to the training post."

Izuku let out a relieved breath. "Oh! Okay, that's not so bad—wait, what?!"

Gray tilted his head slightly, as if Izuku's reaction was unexpected. "Is that difficult?"

Izuku flailed his arms. "Difficult?! Kishimi-san, that's insane!"

Gray remained silent, studying him for a moment. Then, after what felt like a deliberate pause, he spoke again.

"Understood."

Izuku blinked. "Huh?"

"I will modify the routine. Fifty push-ups, fifty sit-ups, fifty strikes."

That wasn't much better, but at least he adjusted it.

Izuku stared at him, trying to understand what was going on in Gray's head. Did he actually just listen to his concerns? Or was this something else? He shifted awkwardly, wondering if this was the same awkward guy he met and talked to back at the beach.

"Begin," Gray instructed, stepping back.

Izuku began to sweat-drop, wondering what had he got himself into.

---

Izuku was still catching his breath from the endurance training when Gray turned to him, standing in the center of the mat with the same rigid, composed stance he had maintained since they met.

"We will now spar," Gray stated, adjusting the wrappings on his hands. "Your movements need to be evaluated."

Izuku straightened up, rolling his sore shoulders. He had expected this sooner or later, but the way Gray said it—so blunt, so matter-of-fact—made it feel less like an offer and more like a command.

Still, he nodded. "Alright. What are the rules?"

Gray tilted his head slightly, as if the question was unnecessary. "Strike me," he said simply.

Izuku blinked. "Just...like that?"

"Yes. That is the objective, is it not?"

Izuku swallowed hard. He suddenly wasn't feeling very confident about this.

Gray moved to the opposite end of the mat, raising his hands into a relaxed but controlled stance. His body language was unreadable, calm, yet prepared.

Izuku took his own stance, trying his best to mimic the way he had seen All Might stand in old fight clips.

Gray immediately frowned. "Your posture is unbalanced," he stated.

Izuku barely had time to react before Gray stepped forward and adjusted his stance, tilting his foot slightly, lowering his center of gravity. "If you maintain this position, you'll be left vulnerable."

Izuku flushed at the unexpected correction but nodded. "O-Okay. Thanks."

Gray didn't acknowledge the gratitude. He simply took three steps back. "Begin."

Izuku barely had time to process that before Gray moved.

Fast.

There was no hesitation, no testing the waters, just a direct, precise strike toward Izuku's ribs. Izuku panicked. His body reacted before his mind could think. He threw himself backward with a movement that wasn't technique, but pure survival instinct. He had barely dodged, but he had dodged.

Gray stopped mid-motion, eyes narrowing slightly.

"You hesitate," he observed. "That's inefficient."

Izuku barely had time to recover before Gray was moving again. Fighting on pure instinct, Izuku threw a punch, one he had seen Bakugou throw a hundred times before. It was fast but sloppy. Too wide, too obvious.

Gray dodged effortlessly. Izuku tried again, this time attempting an exaggerated uppercut, one he had seen All Might use. Gray didn't even move. He simply lifted a hand and redirected Izuku's wrist, knocking him slightly off balance with minimal effort.

Izuku stumbled, eyes wide. It was like trying to hit a shadow.

Gray took a step back, analyzing him. "You lack formal training," he stated plainly. "Your technique is unrefined. You're mimicking styles that rely on quirks you don't have."

Izuku clenched his fists. "I—"

Before he could finish, Gray moved in low and fast—

And swept Izuku's legs out from under him.

Before Izuku could process what was happening—

THUD.

He hit the mat. Hard.

Gray stepped back, staring down at him. Hmm....seems like we're gonna have a lot of work to do, He thought.

"Defend your footing," Gray said. Izuku groaned. His body ached. His pride even more so. But he didn't stay down. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up again.

Gray watched carefully. Izuku was sloppy, his fighting style full of useless movements. But he had reacted. And now, he was getting back up.

"You recover quickly," Gray noted. "That's good."

Izuku froze. Was that...a compliment?

There was no warmth in Gray's tone, no encouragement, but it wasn't criticism either. It was just a neutral statement of fact. Somehow, that made it feel even more genuine.

Izuku grinned, rolling his shoulders. "I'll t-take what I can get."

Gray didn't react.

Then, just as quickly, he moved again. Izuku barely dodged the next strike, his reflexes improving slightly. He still wasn't landing hits, but he was adapting.

Gray continued to fight with the same clinical precision, his strikes just as calculated as before. But this time, he took an extra second to observe Izuku's movements.

Izuku could tell.

Gray was analyzing him.

He's watching how I adapt.

That was progress.

The match continued for another few minutes before Gray's next strike connected solidly with Izuku's shoulder, knocking him down again. Izuku hit the mat once more, chest rising and falling with exhaustion.

Gray didn't immediately move to attack again. Instead, he just stood there, watching.

Finally, he said, "Your endurance is lacking."

Izuku coughed out a laugh, looking up at him with a tired and nervous grin. "Y-Yeah, I noticed."

Gray was silent for a long moment. Then, without a word, he extended his hand.

Izuku blinked in surprise. There was nothing particularly friendly about the gesture. Gray didn't offer it with a smile or any sort of emotion—it was just something that was expected.

He reached up and took it.

Gray pulled him to his feet with ease. For the first time, Izuku got a proper look at Gray's face up close. There was no irritation. No frustration. No satisfaction.

Just...nothing.

Finally, Gray responded. "Adjust your strategy accordingly."

In the end, Izuku was sprawled on the mat, drenched in sweat, as Gray turned and walked toward the edge of the dojo. For a moment, Izuku just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath and process what had just happened.

That wasn't just a sparring match.

That was a massacre.

He had been completely outclassed. Gray had analyzed him, predicted him, and shut him down like it was nothing. And yet, despite the overwhelming defeat, Izuku didn't feel discouraged.

If anything...he was excited.

This was the first time in his life he had trained with someone who treated him like an equal, even if he was nowhere near Gray's level.

Slowly, he sat up, wiping his forehead.

"U-Uh... thanks for, uh, t-the match," he stammered, trying to keep his voice steady despite how exhausted he was.

Gray, who was rolling the wraps off his hands with calm, precise movements, didn't even look at him as he responded.

"You need to improve your footwork," he stated simply. "Your current stance leaves you too open."

Izuku chuckled weakly, rubbing his sore shoulder. "Y-Yeah, I, uh... g-got that part."

Gray nodded, as if that was the expected answer.

"You are dismissed."

Izuku blinked. Dismissed?

For a second, he didn't know if Gray was being serious, but then he realized—oh. Gray really does talk like that. Stiff, cold, straight to the point. Like some kind of old-school military commander.

The guy barely spoke, and when he did, it was all precise, clipped sentences with no emotion behind them. Izuku had met a lot of weird people before, but Gray was definitely something else.

Still, he wasn't about to complain.

Gathering his things, Izuku made his way to the entrance, turning back one last time.

"S-So, um... I-I'll s-see you tomorrow?" he asked hesitantly.

Gray didn't hesitate. "If you do not return, I will assume you are no longer interested."

Izuku gulped. Not the most reassuring answer, but...sure.

"Alright then! Uh, g-goodnight, Kishimi-san!"

Gray didn't reply. He just gave a small nod, then turned away.

Izuku took that as his cue to leave.

As Izuku walked home, he reflected on everything that had just happened today.

Gray Kishimi...was weird.

No—weird wasn't the right word.

Something about him was just off.

It wasn't just how calm and controlled he was—it was the way he never reacted to anything.

There was no frustration when Izuku dodged his attacks.
No satisfaction when he landed a hit.
No exhaustion after an intense sparring session.

It was like he was just...executing a program.

Izuku frowned, gripping his bag strap tightly.

He didn't know what Gray's deal was, but...it wasn't normal.

Still, it wasn't his place to pry, not yet, at least.

Back at his estate, Gray sat at his desk, the dim glow of a laptop screen illuminating his face.

On the screen was a replay of the sparring session, secretly recorded by a hidden camera.

He watched in silence, eyes flicking between Izuku's movements and his own.

As expected, Izuku's combat ability was severely lacking.

It was obvious that he had little to no experience in training or fighting. It made Gray wonder had Izuku not planned on at least training before pursuing his desire to be a pro hero.

His stance was sloppy, unstable.
His attacks were predictable, telegraphed.
His defense was nonexistent.

And yet...

Gray's fingers tapped lightly against the desk.

He kept getting back up.

No matter how many times he was knocked down, Izuku never hesitated to stand again.

That wasn't logical.

By all reasoning, the correct response to repeated failure was to stop and reassess.

Izuku Midoriya did not stop. Instead, he smiled.

Gray's fingers stilled. The footage showed the final moment of their match—Izuku grinning up at him, despite his exhaustion.

He lost completely. So why was he smiling?

Gray exhaled slowly, shutting the laptop.

It didn't matter. He would continue training Midoriya as planned. Personal analysis was unnecessary.

When Izuku finally got home, his mother was waiting in the kitchen.

"Oh, Izuku! You're back late today," Inko said, glancing up from preparing dinner. "Was school rough again?"

Izuku hesitated. "N-No, actually, um...I was t-training."

Inko blinked. "Training? Again?"

Izuku scratched his cheek. "Y-Yeah, uh, I-I kind of...made a f-friend?"

Silence.

Inko's hands froze mid-motion.

Then, in an instant—

"Izuku!"

Before he could react, she crushed him in a bone-crushing hug.

"M-Mom—c-can't breathe—!"

"You made a friend?!" she practically sobbed. "Oh, my baby boy—this is wonderful! I-I was so worried! You never talk about any friends, and you're always training, and—"

Izuku awkwardly patted her back, his face red with embarrassment. "O-Okay, okay, I g-get it! P-Please let go!"

Inko sniffled, finally pulling away and wiping her eyes. "S-So, who is it? What's their name?"

Izuku exhaled. "Uh, h-his name is Gray Kishimi. He, um...o-offered to train with me."

Inko tilted her head. "Kishimi? I don't think I've heard that name before." Although she can't help but feel as if that name sounded familiar.

Izuku laughed nervously. "Y-Yeah, he's, uh...k-kind of private, I guess?"

That was an understatement.

Inko smiled warmly. "Well, I'm glad you're making friends. Just don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

Izuku nodded. "Y-Yeah. I w-won't."

Even as he said that, his thoughts drifted back to Gray.

Something was off about him.

Izuku could tell.

But for now...

He'd just roll with it.

The next day, Izuku walked into the dojo, still sore from yesterday's beating.

Gray was already there.

Standing exactly where he had been the day before.

Still. Unmoving. Like a statue.

Izuku swallowed nervously. Did this guy just stand here until training started?

Gray glanced at him, then nodded. "You returned."

Izuku forced a smile, still feeling awkward. "Y-Yeah. Of course. D-Didn't want you thinking I q-quit or anything!"

Gray didn't respond to that. Instead, he turned. "We begin immediately."

Izuku let out a small, nervous sigh.

This was going to be a long ten months.

The following weeks, Izuku continued showing up at the dojo every day after school. The soreness from their first session never fully went away, but he was adjusting—slowly. Gray, as expected, remained the same: cold, detached, and eerily precise in everything he did.

At first, Izuku had tried to engage in small talk.

"U-Um, thanks for s-sparring with me today, Kishimi-san!" he had said after one particularly grueling match.

Gray barely acknowledged him. "Your reaction time is improving. Continue training."

Izuku had expected this response by now, but it still threw him off. There was no sense of camaraderie, no encouragement, no shared exhaustion—just analysis and instruction.

Still, Izuku didn't let it discourage him. Gray was his first training partner, and he wasn't going to give up on making him more comfortable.

During their first few weeks, Izuku struggled to keep up, often falling short of Gray's strict training regimens. But no matter how many times he fell, no matter how often he gasped for air on the floor, he never stopped getting back up. And every time he did, Gray would simply observe, unreadable as ever, before resuming their session as if nothing happened.

What Izuku didn't realize was that Gray was watching. Analyzing. Midoriya's endurance and stubbornness didn't make logical sense to him, but they intrigued him nonetheless.

It would become a routine. Izuku would get knocked down, Gray would analyze his mistakes, Izuku would take notes, and then repeat the cycle all over again.

But today, Izuku was thinking about something else.

For as long as they'd been training, Gray never used a quirk. Not once.

At first, Izuku thought maybe Gray just had a non-combative quirk. Something that didn't help much in battle, so he relied on his skills instead. But, with him being the ever curious, quirk nerd that he is, Izuku just had to ask.

They had just finished sparring.

Izuku lay flat on the dojo mat, panting and staring at the ceiling. Gray, as usual, was standing over him, completely fine.

Izuku groaned. "Man...y-you really don't hold back, huh?"

Gray crossed his arms. "If I did, you wouldn't improve."

Izuku huffed out a weak laugh. "Y-Yeah, yeah...figures."

A long silence stretched between them. And then—Izuku finally asked.

"...Hey, Kishimi-san?"

Gray raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Izuku pushed himself up, rubbing the back of his head. "U-Um...I-I've just been wondering..."

Gray stared, waiting.

Izuku swallowed. "What's your quirk?"

Gray didn't blink. "I don't have one."

Izuku's brain short-circuited. "W-...What?!"

Gray...was quirkless?

For a second, his mind went blank.

Then, a flood of emotions hit him all at once.

Shock.
Confusion.
Realization.

Gray is just like me.

Izuku's hands curled into fists. He had so many questions.

Had Gray been mocked for trying to be a hero?
Had he been told he couldn't do it?
Had people looked down on him, dismissed him, just like they had with Izuku?

Izuku felt his heart ache with anger at the world.

But at the same time...

Relief.

He wasn't alone.

There was someone else like him.

Someone else who defied the odds.

Gray raised a brow at Izuku's stunned expression. He noted the way Izuku's mouth opened slightly, his breath hitching as if his brain had momentarily short-circuited.

So, in case Izuku hadn't actually processed his words, Gray repeated, his tone just as neutral as before.

"I don't have a qui-"

"N-No! I heard you!" Izuku blurted out, waving his hands frantically. "I-It's just that—" His words faltered for a second, as if he had to force himself to say them aloud. "I didn't expect t-to actually meet someone quirkless...like me."

Gray blinked. He had already known that about Izuku.

But Izuku didn't know that Gray knew.

So he simply tilted his head and responded, "Hm."

Izuku was still staring at him, wide-eyed, processing this new reality.

Gray waited.

There were only a handful of ways a person reacted when they found out someone was quirkless.

Pity. Judgment. Disbelief.

Gray had seen all of them before. It's another reason why he doesn't go outside all that often and is homeschooled, taught by the courtesy of Ethan. He had been studied, analyzed, calculated. His lack of a quirk had always been a topic of evaluation, never something that actually mattered to people beyond its implications.

But Izuku...

Izuku's expression was different.

Gray could see it. The gears turning, the emotions flickering across his face. The way his hands clenched into fists, his breathing unsteady.

He was angry.

Not at him.

For him.

As if the very idea of another quirkless person trying to survive in this world was something that hurt him personally.

Gray frowned slightly. He...didn't understand that reaction.

For the next few moments, Izuku didn't speak.

His brain was working too fast, sorting through the emotions clashing inside him.

On one hand, he was happy.

Gray existed.

Another person like him. Another person who had been doubted, dismissed, told they were nothing just because they lacked a quirk.

Izuku wasn't alone.

But...wasn't that the problem?

If Gray—someone this strong, this intelligent, this skilled—was quirkless, then...

Why had Izuku taken One For All?

Was he a traitor to the quirkless?

Had he betrayed the very thing he fought for his entire life?

He had always told himself, "I'll be a hero, no matter what!"

But when All Might had given him the chance to have a quirk, he had taken it. Without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Gray was here.

Strong. Powerful. Smart. Skillful.
Competent. Training relentlessly.
Defying the odds.

Without a quirk.

The exact thing Izuku always wanted to do.

His stomach twisted.

Was he...a hypocrite?

Gray's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"You look conflicted."

Izuku snapped his head up. "W-What? No! I-I'm fine!" He forced an awkward laugh, waving his hands. "J-Just—uh—processing!"

Gray narrowed his eyes slightly, unconvinced.

But he didn't push further.

Izuku let out a slow breath, forcing himself to focus.

He wanted to ask Gray so many things.

Did he ever try to apply for a hero school? Or just any school in general?
Did people tell him he couldn't be a hero?
Had he been bullied like Izuku was?

But something in Gray's guarded posture stopped him.

Gray wasn't like him.

Gray had never been the shaky, stuttering, anxious wreck that Izuku had been for most of his life.

Gray was controlled. Sharp. Untouchable.

Izuku could tell...

Gray wouldn't answer those questions.

At least...not yet.

So instead, he grinned.

"Y-You know," Izuku said, rubbing the back of his head, "it's kinda nice, knowing I'm not alone."

Gray's face was unreadable. Then, after a long pause—

"...Hm."

Izuku blinked. "I-Is that a yes?"

Gray turned away. "Focus on your training, Midoriya."

Izuku huffed but smiled nonetheless. He'd take that as a win. Gray started walking away, signaling the end of their session. Izuku stood there for a moment, watching him. He was going to figure him out.

No matter how long it took.

As the weeks went by, Izuku started picking up on strange things about Gray.

For one, he never seemed tired. After every spar, Izuku would be dripping in sweat, struggling to catch his breath, while Gray stood there, composed as ever, barely winded. He didn't even drink water during breaks. It was unnatural.

Then there was his complete lack of reaction to social cues.

He never said goodbye when Izuku left.
He never acknowledged jokes or casual conversation.
He never seemed to experience frustration, joy, or satisfaction.

Izuku started wondering: Has Gray never had a real friend before?

Instead of feeling put off by it, he tried harder.

He made a point to greet Gray every time he entered the dojo.

"G-Good afternoon, Kishimi-san!"

Gray would give a small nod in return. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

During this time, Izuku also began trying to understand Gray outside of training. Did he have any hobbies? Favorite food? Interests?

"D-Do you like any TV shows?" Izuku asked once, mid-break.

Gray barely blinked before answering, "I do not watch television."

Izuku deflated. "...W-What about books?"

Gray paused, considering. "Tactical strategy manuals are useful. Encyclopedias have also been serviceable."

Izuku groaned internally. Of course that's what he reads.

It became almost a game for Izuku, trying to get Gray to talk about something other than training.

And while he never got much, he slowly started to learn Gray's patterns.

Gray wasn't ignoring him out of rudeness. It was more like...he didn't know how to respond.

And that only made Izuku more curious and determined!

In the following months, their relationship would grow, and they would become more familiar with each other, though Gray remained wary and cautious. Izuku, ever persistent, continued barraging him with normal questions and conversation starters, trying to get him to open up.

Gray found it both annoying and baffling—did people really talk this much to each other? Was this normal? His entire life had been spent in tyrannic silence, trained to analyze, strategize, and execute. Casual conversation had never been a priority.

He tried ignoring it at first. He would give short, clipped answers, hoping Midoriya would get the hint and stop. But he didn't.

"D-Do you like movies?"

"No."

"What about music?"

"No."

"D-Do you have any hobbies? Besides, um...b-beating me up?"

"...No."

Izuku sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Man, you really don't talk much, huh?"

Gray didn't respond.

It was later that night, while reviewing the day's session, that he truly began to ponder it.

Why was Midoriya trying so hard to be his...friend?

Did he have some sort of ulterior motive?

Or...was this simply what it meant to have a companion to work with?

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his study slid open, revealing Ethan. The robotic butler entered with his usual crisp movements, his glowing blue eye scanning Gray as he stood at the desk, deep in thought.

"I believe you are overthinking this, Master Gray," Ethan said, his tone polite yet precise.

Gray scoffed, crossing his arms. "I do not overthink. I analyze. There's a difference."

Ethan tilted his head slightly. "Perhaps, but if you keep frowning like that, I fear your face will be permanently stuck that way."

Gray slowly turned his head to give Ethan a blank, unamused stare.

"...Ethan, you have got to lay off on those jokes."

"My apologies, Master Gray. It was just a joke." The robot butler gave a small, exaggerated bow.

Gray simply gave a silent nod and continued reviewing the session footage, his sharp eyes scanning every movement, every flaw, every possible improvement.

Ethan let out a synthetic sigh, the soft hum of his internal servos whirring as he stepped closer. "Master Gray, I implore you to take a rest. You've been doing this for almost a month straight." His tone was polite but firm, the voice of someone who had tried—and failed—to get through before.

When Gray showed no signs of stopping, Ethan pressed on. "Although, I must express my gratitude that you are finally going out and engaging with other people, ever since meeting your new friend—" He deliberately emphasized the word. "—you have become unbelievably paranoid. Analyzing his every move, overthinking every interaction...It is as if you are now operating as an insentient machine."

Gray's fingers stilled on the keyboard. He raised a brow at Ethan's ironic choice of words.

"...Was that another joke?"

Ethan straightened, his glowing blue eye unwavering as he shook his head. "No. I am merely stating an observation. You need to learn to trust people." He advised. It was one of the lessons he learned from Maria before she...passed. And he intends to pass that knowledge on to the boy he's stepped forward to take under his wing after both of his parents were no longer in his life.

Gray's fingers twitched slightly. His patience, already thin from weeks of relentless self-analysis, began to wear down. His eyes sharpened as he turned toward Ethan. "What do you know about having friends, Ethan?" He accused in an unintentionally insensitive way, already feeling regret the moment those words left his mouth.

Ethan was silent for a long moment, his gaze steady. Then, with a quiet, almost human-like sigh, he answered. "Maria...was my friend, Master Gray." Ethan admitted.

Gray stiffened. His breath hitched as his entire body went still as he was reminded of his mother, Maria. The only person who had ever made him feel human.

Ethan never spoke of her unless necessary. Gray had never heard him refer to her as a friend before, at least not vocally.

His hands clenched into fists as unwanted memories surged forward—memories of warmth, of love, of her voice, her smile, her gentle touch in his cold and cruel world.

And then—blood. Coldness. Silence.

Gray's shoulders tensed, his jaw locking as anger boiled inside him.

Not at Ethan.

At the reminder.

At himself.

At the world that took her away.

"I...I'm sorry, Ethan." Gray apologized quietly, sounding sincere.

Ethan studied him for a moment before offering a small nod. "I know. It's alright."

Silence stretched between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, it was a shared grief, unspoken yet understood.

Finally, Ethan moved toward the desk, picking up the untouched glass of water beside Gray's laptop. "You should drink this," he said, as if the past few minutes hadn't happened.

Gray drank the glass of water as Ethan laid his metal hand on Gray's shoulder. "Now, get some rest. Overworking yourself will only do more harm than good." He advised.

The dojo was silent except for the sharp sounds of footfalls against the polished wood and the occasional clap of fists meeting forearms. The air felt heavier than usual—charged.

Izuku was used to sparring with Gray by now. He knew how their fights normally went.

Gray always fought with cold, clinical precision—never wasting a movement, never exerting more than necessary, never showing emotion.

But today...something was different.

Gray's movements were still sharp, but they felt harsher. His strikes hit a little harder. His footwork, usually smooth and calculated, was just a fraction sloppier—like he was forcing himself to focus.

That's when Izuku saw it.

For the first time, there was something in Gray's eyes.

Anger.

It was quick—a flicker, a flash, barely noticeable. But Izuku saw it.

And once he saw it, he couldn't unsee it.

Gray lunged forward, faster than before, forcing Izuku to throw up his arms in a hasty block. The impact rattled through his bones.

"Tch—K-Kishimi-san?" Izuku gasped, barely dodging the next strike. "Y-You're going harder than usual!"

Gray didn't answer.

Izuku adjusted his stance. Alright, if he's going to push me, I'll push back!

He rushed forward, aiming to break Gray's balance, but the moment he closed the distance, Gray's expression darkened.

And then—Gray caught his wrist mid-strike.

Izuku barely had a second to react before Gray wrenched his arm forward, twisting him off-balance. The next thing he knew, he was slammed onto the floor, pinned down—Gray's knee pressed firmly against his chest.

The impact knocked the air out of him.

Izuku froze.

Gray's hand was curled into a fist, hovering just inches from his face.

But it wasn't the position that shocked him.

It was Gray's expression.

His usual blank face was gone.

Instead, his jaw was clenched, his brows furrowed, his eyes burning with something raw—something Izuku had never seen before.

Gray was angry.

And it was then that Izuku realized that Gray wasn't emotionless at all.

He had just been holding it in.

"Gray..." Izuku coughed, still struggling for breath. "What's—happening—to you?"

Gray stiffened.

His breathing was heavier than usual, his muscles tense.

Then, as if realizing what he had just done, his expression shut down.

The anger disappeared.

His grip loosened.

And suddenly, he was Gray Kishimi again.

Cold. Distant. Empty.

He stood up, backing away, leaving Izuku gasping on the floor.

The weight on Izuku's chest was gone, but the heaviness in the air remained.

Gray turned his back to him. "I-...We're done for today."

Izuku propped himself up on his elbows, staring at Gray's rigid posture.

He could see it now—the cracks in Gray's mask.

And Izuku knew, without a doubt, he was going to break through. And he was not about to give up now!

"K-Kishimi-san! Wait!" he called out.

Gray froze for half a second, just the faintest hitch in his step, but he didn't turn around. He simply resumed walking.

Izuku clenched his fists and stood up, all traces of nervousness gone.

"Why are you holding back?" Izuku demanded, his voice firmer than usual.

Gray stopped completely.

"Holding back?" Gray repeated, his tone eerily calm. "You assume too much, Midoriya."

Izuku swallowed but stood his ground. "I saw it. I felt it. You're angry. You're always so calm, but for the first time, you—"

Gray slowly turned his head toward him, his gaze dangerously cold.

"Walk away." His voice was low, warning.

But Izuku didn't walk away.

He took a step forward. "I don't get it. Why do you keep pushing everyone away? Why won't you just—"

"Izuku Midoriya."

Izuku stopped mid-sentence.

Gray turned fully now, eyes locked onto him, and the air in the dojo shifted.

The glare he gave Izuku was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Cold. Piercing. Unwavering.

It wasn't just irritation.

It wasn't just frustration.

It was a silent, absolute warning.

"Do not pry into things that do not concern you."

Izuku felt a shiver crawl down his spine, his body reacting before his mind could process.

Gray hadn't raised his voice, but the sheer weight of his words—the sheer intensity of his gaze—was enough to freeze even the bravest of men.

For a moment, Izuku considered backing off entirely.

His instincts screamed at him to leave it alone. To drop it. To let Gray walk away.

But then...

Izuku smiled.

It was small. Nervous. A little wobbly.

But it was genuine.

At the very least, this was some human emotion.

That meant there was more underneath.

And Izuku had found that out!...even if it did come at the cost of nearly having the ever-living life scared out of him.

"G-Got it, Kishimi-san," he stammered, raising his hands in surrender, his heart still hammering.

Gray narrowed his eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out.

Izuku let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, his hands still shaking slightly.

He was terrified.

But even so...

He had made progress.

And he was not giving up.

Not now. Not ever.

His new friend needed help. And Izuku being Izuku, he cannot just leave someone be when they look like they needed help and he made it his personal mission to do so no matter how long it'll take!

Gray sat alone in his study, his fingers steepled as he stared at the screen in front of him. The footage of today's spar played on a loop—each movement, each strike, each moment of hesitation analyzed with sharp precision.

But for once, Gray wasn't reviewing the fight itself.

He was replaying the moment he lost control.

His fist hovering inches from Midoriya's face.
The anger in his veins.
The way Midoriya hadn't backed down.

Gray exhaled sharply through his nose, pausing the video. It was nothing, he told himself. A moment of weakness. It won't happen again.

And yet, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

If it had been nothing, then why was it bothering him?

His fingers clenched involuntarily. Midoriya was just a training partner. That was all. He had invited him to train together for practical reasons—nothing more.

Then why did it feel like he was running away?

A quiet knock sounded at the door before it slid open.

Ethan stepped inside, his blue eye scanning Gray before speaking. "You have been troubled since your last sparring match, Master Gray."

Gray didn't even look at him. "I'm fine."

Ethan remained silent for a moment before stepping closer. "If you were fine, you wouldn't be watching the same footage for the fourth time."

Gray finally turned, his eyes narrowing. "You're unusually talkative today."

Ethan tilted his head. "And you are unusually distracted."

Gray clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I am not distracted. Midoriya is just... persistent."

"Persistent?" Ethan echoed. "Or genuine?"

Gray stiffened.

Ethan continued, his tone even. "If he were merely an annoyance, why do you keep thinking about him?"

Gray had no answer.

He could argue, but what would be the point? Ethan had known him since childhood. He could see through every excuse, every deflection.

"Midoriya is not like the others you have encountered," Ethan said simply. "He does not fear you. He does not try to exploit you. He does not resent you. He simply...exists alongside you."

Gray clenched his jaw.

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

Midoriya had no reason to care, and yet he did.

He kept coming back, kept pushing, kept trying when any other person would've given up and left him by now.

It made no sense.

"Master Gray," Ethan continued, his voice softer. "You invited him into your world. And now, you are the one pushing him away."

Gray's fingers tightened around the armrest of his chair. "I never asked him to get involved."

"No," Ethan agreed. "But you did ask him to train with you. And now, you reject what he is offering in return."

Gray's breath stilled.

"...And what exactly is he offering?"

Ethan's eye blinked once, then dimmed slightly. "Companionship."

Gray felt something twist inside his chest.

For a moment, Maria's voice echoed in his mind.

"You don't have to be alone, sweetheart."

His grip tightened.

Ethan took a step back, sensing the shift in Gray's posture. "It is not a weakness to acknowledge someone's presence in your life, Master Gray."

Gray exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple. "That's enough for tonight, Ethan."

Ethan stared at him for a long moment before bowing slightly. "As you wish." He turned, walking toward the door. But just before he exited, he paused.

"Midoriya will be at the dojo tomorrow," he said. "As he always is."

Gray didn't respond, and Ethan left without another word.

The room fell silent once more.

But this time, Gray was not as certain of himself as he had been before.

The dojo was quiet, as it always was in the afternoons.

Izuku had just arrived, adjusting the straps of his training gloves when he caught sight of Gray standing near the mats, already prepared.

Izuku hesitated for a brief moment. After yesterday's confrontation, he wasn't sure how things would go today.

Would Gray act like nothing happened? Ignore him entirely? Pretend it didn't exist?

Regardless, Izuku did what he always did.

He offered a smile and lifted a hand. "G-Good afternoon, Kishimi-san!"

Gray barely acknowledged him as usual.

Or at least...

That's what Izuku thought.

But then—

Gray actually responded.

"...Good afternoon, Midoriya."

Izuku froze.

He blinked, processing what had just happened.

Gray had never responded before. Never. Not once.

The excitement built up inside him like a firecracker about to explode.

And then—

A bright, blinding grin stretched across his face. "Y-You actually answered me!!"

Gray immediately regretted everything.

Izuku was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, his excitement radiating like the sun. "D-Does this mean we're making progress?! Are we friends now?! O-Or maybe acquaintances?! Maybe something close to that?!"

Gray let out a slow, deep breath, dragging a hand down his face.

"...Midoriya."

"Y-Yeah?"

"Stretch before you pull something."

"R-Right! On it!"

As Izuku immediately scrambled to start his warm-ups, Gray let out a small exhale.

It was the smallest change. A meaningless acknowledgment.

And yet, Midoriya reacted like it was the greatest thing in the world.

Gray still wasn't sure what to make of him.

But for the first time in a long time...He didn't mind the company.

Izuku sat on the dojo floor, wiping sweat from his brow after another grueling sparring session. He had started to get better—not great, but better. He was picking up on Gray's techniques, learning from his relentless training, and even managing to last a little longer before being inevitably knocked down.

Gray, as usual, was standing calmly near the mats, barely winded.

Izuku sighed dramatically. "M-Man...you're insane, Kishimi-san..." He let out a tired chuckle before sitting up straighter. "B-By the way...your last name has been b-bugging me for a while now."

Gray raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Izuku tapped his chin, his brain working overtime to place the familiarity.

"Kishimi... Kishimi..." he muttered. "Wait...KISHIMI ENTERPRISES?! THAT MULTINATIONAL COMPANY THAT PROVIDES ALL SORTS OF BUSINESS?!?"

Gray blinked. "Yes."

Silence.

Izuku froze.

His entire body stiffened as the gears in his head snapped into place.

He slowly turned to Gray, eyes wide with horror and realization.

"W-WAIT! HOLD ON, NOW—DOES THAT TECHNICALLY MEAN THAT YOU'RE A BILLIONAIRE?!?"

Gray, completely unbothered, gave a simple nod. "Yes."

Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Izuku's jaw dropped. "WHAT?!"

Gray tilted his head slightly. "Is there a problem?"

Izuku felt his soul leave his body.

"A P-PROBLEM?!?" He waved his hands around frantically. "Y-YOU—You've been training me in some regular dojo like we're just two normal guys—BUT YOU'RE A BILLIONAIRE?!"

Gray's face remained unreadable. "I fail to see how my wealth affects our training."

Izuku's eye twitched.

Of course.

Of course Gray would say something like that.

Gray had always carried himself with an air of detachment, like the world and its trivial matters didn't concern him. But Izuku never in a million years expected that to apply to the fact that he was richer than entire countries.

Gray turned toward the exit, completely unbothered by Izuku's spiraling. But then he remembered Ethan's words and decided to heed to them.

"Since it's relevant to you, would you like to see it?" he asked casually.

Izuku blinked. "S-See what?"

"My home," Gray said, as if inviting someone to his massive, multi-billion-dollar estate was the same as offering a ride to the convenience store.

Izuku malfunctioned.

Izuku stared in awe as he stood in front of Gray's insanely massive, castle-like manor.

It was easily one of the most expensive-looking residences he had ever seen. The gates alone looked like they cost more than his entire apartment complex.

Gray stepped forward, placing his hand on a scanner. The gates hissed before opening with a quiet, automated response.

Izuku swallowed thickly. "O-Okay...Not gonna lie, this is intimidating."

Gray barely reacted. "It's just a house."

Izuku gawked at him. "JUST a house?! JUST a—" He threw his arms up in defeat. "Y'know what? Nevermind, let's just—go inside."

As they walked into the immaculate, pristine halls of the estate, Izuku was overwhelmed by the sheer size, elegance, and sheer ridiculous wealth of everything.

The walls were lined with expensive artwork. The floors were polished to a mirror shine. There was a freaking chandelier in nearly every room.

Izuku's eye twitched.

HOW DOES SOMEONE LIVE LIKE THIS?!

Before he could process any further, a new voice greeted them.

"Welcome home, Master Gray."

Izuku turned and—

His brain completely shut down.

A robot.

A fully functional, humanoid, AI-powered robot butler stood in front of them, dressed in a pristine suit. His single glowing blue eye flickered as he analyzed Izuku, then bowed politely.

Gray nodded. "Ethan."

Ethan turned his attention to Izuku. "Ah. So this is the guest you've mentioned."

Izuku's entire mind derailed.

"W-WAIT! HOLD ON! WHY DO YOU HAVE A ROBOT BUTLER?!"

Gray blinked. "Why wouldn't I?"

Izuku threw his hands up. "B-BECAUSE NORMAL PEOPLE DON'T HAVE ROBOT BUTLERS, KISHIMI-SAN!"

Ethan turned to Gray. "Master Gray, is Midoriya always this...expressive?"

Gray sighed. "Unfortunately."

Izuku groaned. "You guys are both impossible..."

Ethan chuckled, clearly amused. "It is good to see you home with company, Master Gray. I was beginning to believe you would never bring anyone here."

Gray's gaze flickered slightly, but he remained silent.

Izuku noticed.

Something about Ethan's words seemed to affect Gray.

Izuku decided to not push for now.

Ethan gestured toward the halls. "Would you like refreshments, Midoriya?"

Izuku blinked. "O-Oh! U-Um, yeah, sure—wait, hold on, c-can you actually make food?"

Ethan tilted his head. "I am fully programmed with knowledge of culinary arts."

Izuku looked at Gray in disbelief. "Y-You have a billionaire-sized mansion, a robot butler, and a personal chef?!"

Gray shrugged. "It is convenient."

Izuku couldn't handle this anymore.

Gray Kishimi was a walking paradox.

He had zero concept of what normal socializing looked like.
He lived in a massive, billionaire-level estate with a literal AI butler—yet he acted like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And yet, he still chose to train in a normal dojo instead of a private facility.

Izuku would never understand him.

But that was fine.

Because somehow...this all felt right.

Izuku let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. "Y'know what? Fine. Whatever. I give up trying to understand your life, Kishimi-san."

"Hm." Gray merely hummed in response, unbothered as ever.

Ethan, on the other hand, gave a rare chuckle. "I foresee that this is only the beginning of your many, many questions, Midoriya."

Izuku groaned. "Please don't remind me..."

Despite all the chaos, Izuku was beginning to notice something about Gray.

As they sat outside on the grand balcony of the manor, watching the sun set over the vast gardens.

Izuku took a deep breath, the crisp evening air cooling his skin. "Man...this place is incredible."

Gray remained silent, gazing out into the distance.

Izuku glanced at him. "D-Do you ever get lonely here?"

Gray's eyes flickered slightly, but his face remained neutral. "No."

Izuku didn't believe that for a second.

Gray lived in a massive manor, trained alone, ate alone, and only had a robot butler to keep him company.

And yet, he never complained.

Izuku hesitated before offering a small smile. "W-Well...I don't think you have to be alone anymore."

Gray turned to look at him, his expression unreadable.

Izuku rubbed the back of his head. "I-I mean, y-you don't talk much, and you're... uh... k-kind of terrifying sometimes, b-but you're not as emotionless as you pretend to be."

Gray blinked slowly. "Is that so?"

Izuku nodded. "Y-Yeah. So, um... I'm g-gonna keep coming over, i-if that's okay."

Gray studied him for a moment before finally turning back toward the sky.

"...Do as you wish."

Izuku grinned.

Progress!

Months had passed, and Gray was genuinely impressed by how much of a fast learner Izuku was.

Not just in combat, but in everything.

His movements were sharper.
His reaction time had improved significantly.
He was thinking more critically, analyzing instead of just acting on instinct.

It was slow, but Gray could see it.

The once timid, shaky boy he had met was evolving.

And, though he would never admit it aloud...Gray was glad.

He didn't want to waste his time training someone who wasn't willing to improve.

Midoriya, despite his quirks in personality, was worth his time.

And he wasn't the only one who noticed Izuku's change.

Back with Izuku, Takobah Beach had changed.

Where there were once piles of discarded appliances and mountains of waste, now there were clear patches of sand, an actual coastline starting to form again.

All Might stood with his arms crossed, nodding approvingly as he watched Izuku haul a rusted engine block across the sand.

The boy was glistening with sweat, his muscles strained from exertion, but his form was so much better than before.

"You know, Young Midoriya," All Might remarked, his voice tinged with admiration, "you've come a long way since we first met. And I have a feeling that your friend, Gray Kishimi, has played a significant role in that."

Izuku stiffened slightly.

His fingers clenched tighter around the rope he was using to drag the debris.

All Might's words were meant to be praise.

But all they did was remind Izuku of the conflict raging in his heart.

Izuku forced a smile, nodding.

"Y-Yeah! Gray has been... really helpful," he said, his voice upbeat but inside, his emotions twisted into a tangled mess.

Because All Might was right.

Gray had pushed him past his limits.
Gray had taught him to fight smarter, to endure pain, to think ahead.
Gray had made him stronger.

And Gray was doing it all without a quirk.

The reminder hit Izuku like a weight on his chest.

He wanted to feel proud of himself. He really did.

But every time he saw Gray training just as hard—if not harder—without a quirk to rely on, that small voice in his head whispered:

"Are you really worthy of this power?"

"If Gray can do it without One For All... why couldn't you?"

"What if you took the easy way out?"

"What if you're not meant to be All Might's successor?"

Izuku gulped, shaking his head slightly as if to clear the thoughts away.

This was his dream!

This was his chance!

But...why did he feel like he had betrayed a part of himself?

All Might stroked his chin in contemplation.

"Kishimi, huh...?" he murmured, his gaze distant.

That name sounded familiar.

He couldn't quite place it, but something about it nagged at the back of his mind.

Where had he heard it before?

Who were the Kishimis?

And why did he feel like this was a name he should remember?

For now, he brushed it off, shaking his head.

He turned back to Izuku, flashing a grin. "Well, regardless! Keep at it, Young Midoriya! At the rate you're going, you may just finish in eight months instead of ten!"

Izuku's eyes widened. "R-Really?! That's two months early!"

All Might nodded. "Indeed! You've shown remarkable growth! But don't let up now—there's still much to do!"

Izuku grinned, forcing himself to push his worries aside.

"R-Right! I-I won't slow down!"

Later that evening, Izuku found himself at Gray's dojo again.

The sparring session was as intense as ever. Fast. Relentless. Gray did not hold back.

Izuku hit the mat hard, gasping for breath.

Gray stood over him, arms crossed.

"You hesitated."

Izuku groaned. "I-It's called thinking..."

Gray tilted his head. "Thinking should not make you slower. Thinking should make you better."

Izuku huffed, pulling himself up. "Y-Yeah, well—s-some of us aren't geniuses, Kishimi-san."

Gray narrowed his eyes. "You don't need to be a genius. You need to be efficient."

Izuku sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Y-You really don't know how to sugarcoat things, huh?"

Gray blinked as he tilted his head slightly. "Why would I coat sugar on anything?"

Izuku stared. "It's a phrase—never mind."

Silence stretched between them for a moment.

Then, unexpectedly, Gray spoke.

"You've changed."

Izuku blinked. "H-Huh?"

Gray's gaze was analytical, sharp as ever—but softer, in a way that Izuku hadn't seen before.

"When I met you, you hesitated more. You second-guessed yourself. You fell easier."

Izuku scratched his cheek, looking away. "I-I mean, I still kinda do all that..."

Gray shook his head. "Less than before."

Izuku blinked, stunned.

It wasn't praise, exactly. But coming from Gray...

It meant something.

Izuku smiled, rubbing his nose sheepishly. "W-Well...you've changed too."

Gray raised an eyebrow. "Have I?"

Izuku nodded. "Y-Yeah! You, um, talk more now. And your death glares don't feel as, uh, soul-crushing anymore!"

Gray stared at him, unimpressed. "...You're an idiot."

Izuku laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "M-Maybe."

Gray sighed but didn't refute it.

The night continued with more sparring, more conversation, and more unspoken understanding between them.

It was their beginning. Their starting line.

Izuku was still figuring himself out.

Gray was still learning what it meant to connect with someone.

But slowly, they were becoming something more than just training partners.

They were becoming...friends.

Izuku Midoriya sat at the dinner table, nervously poking at his rice as his mother, Inko, gave him a curious look.

"So, sweetie," she said, her tone light but filled with warmth. "You've been staying out late a lot recently. You're not...getting into trouble, right?" She asked with a glare that contradicted her present sweet looking smile.

Izuku nearly choked on his food. "W-Wha—NO! Mom, I-I would never—!"

Inko giggled. "I know, I know! I just wanted to ask...what kind of friend have you been spending so much time with?"

Izuku froze.

Oh no.

How was he supposed to explain Gray Kishimi?

That his new training partner and first real friend in years was a super strong billionaire who lived in a mansion with a literal robot butler?

No. That would freak her out.

So he tried to describe Gray...in the safest way possible.

"Well, uh... He's..." Izuku racked his brain for words that wouldn't sound alarming. "He's... uhm... very, uh... reserved?"

Inko tilted her head. "Oh?"

"H-He's really smart. And, uh, serious! Very serious! Like, always serious. He doesn't really talk much, but he's been training me, and he's really strong!"

Inko blinked, clearly intrigued. "So, he's a disciplined boy?"

Izuku nodded furiously. "Y-Yeah! He's super disciplined! And, uh, really focused! But not in, like, a weird way! Just in a—uh—h-he's a good guy!"

Inko smiled, watching her son stammer through the explanation. "Well, he sounds like a nice friend. I'm glad you found someone to train with, Izuku."

Izuku internally sighed in relief.

He did NOT need his mother freaking out about his elite, emotionless, billionaire, child super-soldier friend (not that Izuku knew about that last part).

"Y-Yeah! He's great!"

Izuku had been visiting Gray's absurdly massive billionaire estate for months now.

At this point, he had stopped gawking every time he entered the mansion.

Mostly.

Okay, sometimes he still got distracted by the giant chandeliers, the marble floors...and the fact that Gray literally had an entire training facility inside his house.

But today, he wasn't here to train.

Today, he was here to do something far more difficult: Teaching Gray Kishimi how to engage in normal human conversation.

It had started when Izuku casually mentioned how awkward Gray was during their conversations, which led to Ethan—Gray's robot butler—suggesting they do 'socialization exercises.'

Which led to Izuku trying to explain small talk to a guy who saw it as an inefficient waste of time.

Which led to...this.

Izuku sat on one of the ridiculously fancy couches in Gray's study, feeling comically out of place in the (technically, but not yet) billionaire's elegant surroundings.

Gray, meanwhile, was sitting perfectly straight across from him, hands steepled in front of his face. As if this was a business negotiation.

Ethan stood nearby, his glowing blue eye flickering as he monitored the situation.

Izuku took a deep breath. "Okay...so, uh, w-we're just going to practice normal conversation! Like, uh, small talk!"

Gray narrowed his eyes slightly. "What is the purpose of 'small talk' if it serves no productive function?"

Izuku blinked.

"I-It's not supposed to be 'productive,'" he said hesitantly. "It's just...nice! It makes people feel comfortable, you know?"

Gray remained unimpressed. "I do not see the value in exchanging meaningless pleasantries."

Izuku facepalmed. "O-Okay, we'll, um, work on that later...but take it like this: if you want to be a hero, one of the things you need to do is make people feel comfortable. And small talk, or just talking in general, is one of them."

Gray actually took in those words and held his chin in contemplation and acceptance of that crucial information. "Huh...I see."

Ethan, who had been silently observing, tilted his head. "Master Gray, my research suggests that friends often engage in 'teasing' as a form of bonding."

Gray raised an eyebrow. "That seems counterintuitive."

Ethan continued, unfazed. "Nonetheless, I shall attempt it. Midoriya, your hair resembles that of a disheveled broccoli."

Izuku blinked in shock.

"...W-Wha—"

Gray let out a long, tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ethan. Stop."

Ethan looked between them. "Did I not execute the 'teasing' correctly?"

Izuku struggled to process what just happened. "D-Did you just...insult me?"

Ethan nodded. "Indeed. According to my calculations, that was an appropriate 'lighthearted jab' to establish camaraderie."

Gray rubbed his temples. "I regret allowing you internet access."

Izuku, still stunned, reached up and touched his hair self-consciously. "I-I mean...i-it's not that bad, right...?"

Gray gave him a once-over. "It is accurate."

Izuku gawked at him. "K-Kishimi-san! You're not supposed to agree with him!"

Gray shrugged. "You asked."

A few minutes later, after recovering from Ethan's accidental roast, Izuku tried again. "A-Alright, let's just, uh, t-talk about normal things! Like, uhm...y-your favorite color?"

Gray blinked. "I do not have one."

"...O-Oh. O-Okay..." Izuku shifted nervously. "A-Ah! W-What about hobbies?"

"I...train?"

Izuku deadpanned. "Y-Yeah, I figured."

Ethan hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should simulate common social situations. For example, we could roleplay an interaction where Midoriya and Master Gray pretend to be on a casual outing as acquaintances."

Gray immediately frowned. "We are not doing that."

Izuku nodded frantically. "Y-Yeah, I-I think we should, uhm, s-start s-small, E-Ethan..."

Ethan sounded almost disappointed. "Understood."

Gray turned to Izuku, his usual unreadable expression in place. "I fail to see the relevance of this exercise."

Izuku sighed. "B-Because, Kishimi-san, i-if you don't talk to people like a normal person, e-everyone's going to keep thinking you're a brooding, scary, emotionless rich guy with secret plans for world domination!"

Gray blinked. "I do not care what others think of me."

Izuku groaned. "W-Well, what if I told you that if you d-don't learn how to talk to people, y-you'll never make more friends?"

Gray tilted his head slightly. "I have you."

Izuku's breath caught in his throat.

For a moment, he wasn't sure if Gray even realized what he just said.

And from the way Gray simply continued looking at him with his usual unreadable expression, it seemed like he hadn't.

Izuku swallowed past the sudden warmth in his chest.

"Y-Y'know, Kishimi-san..." he said, smiling. "I think you're making progress."

Gray narrowed his eyes. "That statement is unfounded."

Izuku just laughed.

Gray sighed, rubbing his temples. "I fail to see how this was a productive use of time."

Izuku grinned. "I-It wasn't supposed to be productive! I-It was supposed to be fun!"

Gray just stared at him. "...That remains to be seen."

Ethan tilted his head, processing. "So, while my 'broccoli hair' remark may have been ill-received, it did successfully create laughter. Was that not the intended goal?"

Izuku groaned. "N-Not like that, Ethan!"

Ethan hummed. "I see. Adjusting parameters for humor delivery."

Gray shot him a warning look. "Do not."

Izuku snickered, shaking his head.

Then, to his surprise—

Gray suddenly spoke again.

"I build things."

Izuku paused, blinking in confusion.

"...Huh?"

Gray sat perfectly still, his expression unreadable. But he didn't take it back.

"You've always asked me numerous times about my...hobbies and I...build things," he repeated. "Technology. Engineering, mechanics, programming..." he trailed off, as if struggling to put it into words.

Izuku stared at him, eyes wide with shock and realization. "W-Wait, wait—y-you mean like gadgets?! A-Actual hero equipment?!"

Gray nodded. "For future use."

Izuku's breath caught in his throat.

Gray was already preparing.

Despite being quirkless, despite everything, he wasn't just relying on his body and mind. He was arming himself for the future.

And suddenly, it all made sense.

Gray was always ten steps ahead. Always preparing, calculating every outcome.

Of course he wouldn't just rely on martial arts alone.

He was building his own arsenal.

Izuku let out an amazed breath. "T-That's...incredible!"

Gray blinked, as if not expecting praise.

"It's practical," he said simply.

Izuku shook his head, smiling. "No, seriously! T-That's amazing, Kishimi-san! You're already preparing your own support gear?! T-That's so cool!"

Gray remained silent, his expression unreadable.

But Izuku noticed the way he didn't shut the conversation down.

That was enough for him.

Ethan had been monitoring quietly, watching the conversation unfold.

His glowing blue eye flickered slightly as he observed Gray willingly share something personal for the first time.

For years, Gray had been isolated. Detached. Silent.

His focus was always on efficiency, strategy, survival.

But now...

Now, he was talking.

Now, he was letting someone in.

And for the first time, Ethan didn't need to guide him.

He didn't need to push.

Didn't need to advise.

Gray had done this on his own.

And inside his robotic core, Ethan felt something strange.

Something warm. Something Maria might have called 'pride.'

He had never been programmed to feel emotions. He had never felt them until he had met Maria. But right now, he was proud of Gray. Even if Gray didn't realize his own progress yet. Ethan was also very pleased in general. The manor had never been this lively. And he had no one but Izuku to thank for that.

Izuku suddenly fidgeted, his hands clenched into fists in front of him like an excited child.

"C-Can I see them?!"

Gray blinked, caught off guard.

"See what?"

"Y-Your gadgets! T-The ones you've been working on! P-Please?" Izuku bowed his head slightly, practically begging.

Gray stared.

Ethan stared.

The robot butler tilted his head. He had never seen anyone outright beg for something from Gray before.

Gray sighed, rubbing his temple. "Midoriya—"

"I-I promise I won't break anything!" Izuku cut him off, eyes shining. And Gray swore there were stars in his pupils.

Gray opened his mouth, fully prepared to shut down the conversation. But then he saw the genuine enthusiasm in Izuku's face.

...He had never shown anyone his work before.

After a long pause, Gray finally exhaled.

"...Fine."

Ethan's single glowing eye flickered slightly. Progress indeed.

"Follow me." Gray said. By this point, he now knows that Izuku can be trusted.

Izuku eagerly jumped to his feet, following Gray through the halls of his massive estate.

As they walked, his feelings of financial inferiority only deepened.

The sheer size of this place...the fancy architecture, the expensive artwork, the ridiculous amount of space that seemed endless—Gray lived in literal luxury.

Izuku, meanwhile, was still saving up money to replace his broken All Might figures.

But his growing existential crisis came to a screeching halt when Gray stopped in front of a massive bookshelf in his office.

"Wait, wait, wait—" Izuku's eyes widened. "Y-You have an office?! YOU'RE FOURTEEN!"

Gray ignored him.

Instead, he reached toward a specific book, pulled it back slightly, and—

Click.

Izuku froze.

His jaw slowly dropped.

The bookshelf shifted, revealing a hidden doorway.

"...Are you kidding me?"

Gray stepped inside. "Are you coming or not?"

Izuku stumbled forward, nearly tripping over himself in excitement.

The elevator ride down was silent mostly because Izuku was still trying to process the fact that this was real.

Gray had a secret underground base.

Gray had an actual secret underground base.

Gray had a literal Batcave, except it obviously wasn't called that.

The elevator doors hissed open and Izuku forgot how to breathe. The massive underground chamber stretched before him, filled with rows of workstations, holographic displays, and shelves lined with half-finished gadgets.

There were training areas, testing stations, reinforced walls designed to withstand impact. Giant monitors flickered with schematics, calculations, and combat data. It was equal parts laboratory, armory, and war room.

Izuku stumbled out of the elevator, wide-eyed.

"W-WHAT THE HELL—KISHIMI-SAN, YOU HAVE A BASE?!"

Gray folded his arms, unimpressed. "Of course."

Izuku flapped his arms wildly. "T-This is like something out of a m-movie! Y-You have a literal s-secret underground base beneath your mansion! W-Why didn't you say anything?!"

Gray raised an eyebrow. "Because you never asked."

Izuku sputtered.

Ethan stepped out of the elevator, calm as ever. "Master Gray has been developing this facility since childhood. It is designed for his personal research, training, and preparation for his future hero career."

Izuku spun back toward Gray, mind still short-circuiting.

"You—you built this?!"

Gray nodded. "Over the years. Though Ethan assisted with some of the heavy lifting as well as a few trusted employees we have at Kishimi Enterprises."

Izuku's brain short-circuited even harder.

Gray was his age.

He was fourteen.

FOURTEEN.

And he had his own Batcave.

This was ridiculous.

It was insane.

It was amazing.

Izuku let out a weak, stunned laugh.

"...I-I don't know whether to be impressed or terrified."

Gray tilted his head. "Why not both?"

Izuku just groaned and buried his face in his hands. He whirled around, pointing wildly at everything in sight.

"Y-YOU HAVE A HOLOGRAPHIC INTERFACE?! W-WAIT, IS THAT A—IS THAT A CUSTOM-BUILT ARMOR FRAME?! H-HOW DID YOU EVEN—"

Gray folded his arms, standing calmly amidst the chaos.

"It's necessary for my long-term plans."

Izuku spun around, still overwhelmed. "L-LONG-TERM PLANS?! KISHIMI-SAN, Y-YOU'RE FOURTEEN, AND YOU'RE ALREADY P-PLANNING YOUR ENTIRE HERO CAREER?!"

Gray blinked. "Yes. Should I not?"

Izuku let out a pained wheeze.

Gray tilted his head slightly. Did normal people, or people in general aiming to be a hero, not do this?

Ethan stood off to the side, watching with something akin to fond amusement.

"Master Midoriya, please be mindful of your volume," Ethan said, his tone polite. "The security measures in this facility are soundproof, but there is still no need for excessive screaming."

Izuku stared at the robot butler.

"...I'M SORRY, I CAN'T JUST NOT REACT TO THIS!!"

Ethan hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should retrieve a glass of water for you. You appear to be hyperventilating."

"I—I'M FINE—" Izuku waved his hands frantically, trying to reel himself back in.

But then he saw a row of blueprints laid out on a nearby workbench.

His eyes immediately locked on.

Schematics.

Gadgets.

Designs that looked so far ahead of their time that even a Support Course student would be floored.

Izuku stared in awe.

"T-These...these are incredible."

Gray walked over, hands in his pockets. "They're still in prototype phases. Most require further refinements before they're combat-ready."

Izuku ran his fingers over one of the designs—a foldable, reinforced gauntlet that seemed to have multiple configurations.

"Y-You made these? A-All by yourself?"

Gray hummed. "Well, mostly. I did have some help."

Izuku felt his admiration for Gray reach new heights.

"T-That's amazing, Kishimi-san," Izuku breathed. "I-I mean, I always knew you were smart, b-but this—this is something else!" He continued his genuine praise.

While Izuku continued marveling at all the insane tech Gray had built, Gray's eyes flickered to a farther section of the base.

A workstation, separated from the rest.

Monitors still active, displaying encrypted files.

Research.

On One For All.

Gray had discreetly turned the screens away when he brought Izuku down here.

But he knew he couldn't let Izuku get too close.

Izuku still thought he didn't know.

And for now, Gray needed to keep it that way.

He had questions. ones that were sprawled out on the screens.

Questions that no one had answers to.

What exactly was One For All?
Why could it only be passed down?
And most importantly—

Was Izuku truly capable of handling it?

Gray had been observing his progress for months.

Izuku was improving. But One For All was something unknown. Something that had never been tested on a quirkless body before.

If things went wrong...

Gray didn't even know if he could help him. For now... Izuku couldn't know about this research. Gray wasn't ready to share what he had uncovered.

Not yet.

Not until he understood the truth himself.

So when Izuku turned back toward him, still grinning like a kid in a candy store, Gray shoved his thoughts aside.

Izuku wandered deeper into the workshop, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Gray had a literal underground base beneath his manor. His eyes scanned over the workbenches, passing by complex blueprints, neatly arranged gadgets, and half-finished devices—until something in particular caught his attention.

A utility belt.

A cowl.

And next to them, small, feather-shaped Kunais.

Izuku stepped closer, curiosity bubbling inside him.

The cowl was sleek and well-crafted, clearly reinforced with high-grade material.

The lenses were red, sharp and angular, giving the impression of an unblinking gaze.
The bridge of the nose curved slightly downward, resembling a beak.
The back of the cowl had slicked-back ridges, almost like feathers, though Izuku wasn't sure what material they were made of—definitely not actual feathers, but something lightweight and durable.

It was subtle, but unmistakable.

A raven.

Izuku's eyes drifted down to the blueprint beneath it.

Carefully, he pulled it free and took in the full suit design.

A high-collared tactical bodysuit, sleek yet reinforced for durability.
Gauntlets lined with plating, designed for defense, grappling, and striking.
A utility belt, compact but packed with compartments—no doubt for weapons, tools, and gadgets.
A long, reinforced mantle, designed for gliding, its edges structured to resemble outstretched wings in motion.
And in the center of the chest, a raven emblem.

Izuku felt himself staring.

Even unfinished, the quality was undeniable.

This wasn't just a costume.

It was armor.

A suit designed not for flashiness, not for showmanship, even if it did look slick and elegant—but for function, for efficiency.

It was sleek, efficient, and honestly...a little intimidating.

Izuku swallowed.

This wasn't the kind of hero suit that shined in the spotlight. This was a suit that moved in the dark. It was made to outthink, outmaneuver, and outmatch an enemy before they even realized they had lost.

Izuku wasn't sure whether to be impressed or a little nervous.

Maybe both.

Despite himself, Izuku's fingers itched to reach out. Just one quick touch of the fabric. Surely that wouldn't hurt, right?

But just as his hand inched closer—

A voice cut through the silence.

"That would be unwise."

"AAAAAAHH!!!" Izuku jumped about a foot in the air, barely holding back a scream.

Spinning around, he found Gray standing directly behind him.

No sound. No footsteps. No warning.

Just there.

Izuku clutched his chest. "H-HOW—WHEN—WHY ARE YOU SO QUIET?!"

Gray simply tilted his head. "Why are you shuffling through my stuff?"

Ethan, watching from the side, let out a hum. "Master Midoriya, your lack of awareness is rather concerning."

Izuku groaned. "C-Can we not turn this into a lesson?"

Gray ignored that completely and plucked the blueprint from Izuku's hands.

Izuku sighed in relief that he hadn't technically broken his promise.

But then Gray paused.

And after a moment, he looked at Izuku.

"...What do you think?"

Izuku blinked.

Gray Kishimi, who normally didn't care what anyone thought, was actually asking for his opinion?

Izuku grinned.

"Oh!Well,firstofall,i-it'sreallycool!A-Andkindascary,b-butinagoodway!Andthecape!D-Doesitletyouglide?O-Orisitforprotection?O-Orboth?!A-Andthegauntlets!A-Aretheyreinforcedforhand-to-handcombat,o-ordotheyhavemorefunctionality?!OOH—ANDTHE—"

Gray sighed deeply as Izuku exploded into full-on hero costume analysis and rambling fanboy mode. It was one of Izuku's admittedly annoying habits Gray had to endure since meeting him.

Ethan, watching in amusement, simply nodded. "Ah, yes. The price of curiosity, Master Gray."

Gray rubbed his temples. "Midoriya."

Izuku froze mid-ramble.

Gray gave him a deadpan stare. "Breathe."

Izuku sheepishly took a deep breath, finally slowing down.

Ethan, standing nearby, let out an amused hum. "That was quite impressive, Master Midoriya. I did not realize the human lung capacity was capable of such prolonged speech without pausing."

Izuku flushed. "T-That's just 'cause I get really excited about hero costumes or heroes in general! T-They're so important for a pro hero's identity and functionality!"

Gray raised an eyebrow.

He folded his arms. "Is that so?"

Izuku nodded enthusiastically.

"O-Of course! A hero's costume isn't just for looks! I-It should be practical, tailored to their abilities, and something that represents them! A-A suit can mean a lot about who they are!"

Gray hummed, mulling over his words.

He had, of course, known the functional importance of hero costumes. Stealth, protection, adaptability. Those were all key factors when he designed his own. As for the theme of a raven?...that will be a story for another time.

Gray tapped a finger against the utility belt on the workbench. "Then, what about yours?"

Izuku blinked. "Huh?"

"Your hero suit," Gray clarified, looking directly at him. "What does it look like?"

Izuku froze.

His face instantly turned red.

"W-Wait, my hero suit?!"

Gray blinked. "Yes. What does it look like?"

Izuku started sweating.

Oh no.

Oh no.

This was not the conversation he was prepared for.

Izuku scrambled for an excuse. "W-Well, y-you see, I-I don't actually have a f-finalized design yet! S-So, um, I c-can't really s-say—"

Gray just stared at him.

Not judging. Not pushing. Just...staring.

Completely silent.

Unmoving.

Waiting.

Izuku felt his entire soul leave his body.

The longer Gray just stood there, doing nothing, the more flustered Izuku got.

It was too much pressure.

"F-Fine! I-I'll show you!" Izuku finally caved, huffing in defeat.

Gray nodded. "Good."

Izuku sighed, then reached into his pocket...

And in a single motion, he whipped out a notebook.

From seemingly nowhere. Even Gray didn't want to question the logistics on how that worked.

Izuku flipped through the pages in a blur, finally stopping on a spread of sketches.

The drawings were rough, scribbled with enthusiasm, but the design itself was clear.

A full-body green jumpsuit.
Simple elbow and knee pads.
A red utility belt.
Thick red boots that stood out against the rest of the suit.

But the most notable elements were the ones that made Gray's brow slightly furrow.

A mask with two long, pointed extensions.

Gray stared at it. "...Are those supposed to be ears?"

Izuku flushed. "N-No! They're—uh—t-they're supposed to look like All Might's hair!"

Gray squinted.

"...They look like ears."

Izuku pouted. "I know..." he muttered under his breath.

And then there was the respirator, which curved slightly upward at the edges...vaguely resembling a grin.

Gray narrowed his eyes. "And the mask?"

Izuku rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I-It's supposed to look like All Might's smile."

Gray stared at him.

Then he looked back at the sketches.

Then back at Izuku.

"...Hmph." He handed the notebook back. "It's very...thematic."

Izuku brightened. "Y-Yeah?"

Gray tilted his head slightly. "It's also impractical."

Izuku deflated instantly.

"Hey!!"

Gray folded his arms. "The mask has poor visibility, and the long extensions serve no functional purpose."

Izuku grumbled under his breath as he tried to argue back. "All Might makes it work..."

Gray raised an eyebrow. "All Might doesn't need a mask."

Izuku pouted harder.

Ethan, watching with clear amusement, decided to step in. "I believe what Master Gray is trying to say, Master Midoriya, is that your design, while visually striking, would benefit from a more practical approach."

Izuku sighed. "I-It's still a work in progress..."

Gray simply nodded. "Then keep working on it."

Izuku looked down at his notebook, his lips pursing.

Even if Gray was blunt, he had taken the time to look through the designs carefully. That meant a lot.

"...Thanks, Kishimi-san."

Gray just nodded again, turning back to his own work.

Ethan hummed. "Master Gray, was that an attempt at encouragement?"

Gray glared at him.

Ethan's single eye flickered playfully.

Izuku laughed but on the inside, he was reeling. He tried not to think about it.

He really did.

But as he glanced down at his scribbled sketches, then back at the highly detailed, borderline-military-grade blueprints of Gray's hero suit...

He couldn't help but feel like a child who just brought crayon drawings to a professional architect.

Izuku gulped.

His suit was a simple jumpsuit with basic pads and a belt.

Gray's suit?

Custom-built gauntlets. Reinforced armor. A tactical mantle engineered for gliding. A utility belt PACKED with high-tech compartments.

Gray was designing a state-of-the-art combat system.

Izuku was drawing fanart of All Might and calling it a costume.

He tried to ignore it.

He really did.

But the longer he stared at Gray's blueprints, the more he felt his soul slowly shrivel up.

Ethan, of course, noticed.

Gray, noticing the way Izuku kept sneaking glances between their designs, finally asked—

"What's wrong?"

Izuku jumped. "N-Nothing! I-I'm fine! Everything's fine!"

Gray stared.

Izuku sweated.

Ethan hummed knowingly. "Ah. I see."

Izuku blinked. "S-See what?"

Ethan gestured toward the blueprints. "You are currently experiencing what is known as design inferiority."

Izuku tilted his head. "That's a thing?"

"Oh, yes," Ethan said. "It is quite common in creative fields. Comparing one's work to a perceived 'better' version often results in feelings of inadequacy."

Izuku pouted hard. "I-I'm not inadequate! It's just—!" He flailed dramatically at Gray's workbench. "L-Look at his! It's like something straight out of a high-budget action movie! And mine—mine looks like I pulled it straight from a childhood fanbook!"

Gray looked at his own blueprints.

Then back at Izuku's notebook.

Then back at his blueprints again.

"...Hmph." He nodded once. "Yes. Mine is better."

Izuku groaned in despair and slumped over the table.

"Gee, thanks for the support, Kishimi-san..."

Gray blinked. "I was not attempting to be unsupportive."

Izuku grumbled into his arms.

Ethan tilted his head. "Would you like a combat-ready redesign, Young Midoriya? I could suggest something more—tactically sound."

Izuku shot up, eyes wide in horror. "N-NO! I-It's fine! R-Really!"

Ethan let out an amused hum. "Very well."

Gray, after a moment, added, "Your design is inefficient, but...it suits you."

Izuku blinked at him.

Gray shrugged. "If you intend to be a beacon of hope, then...your costume should reflect that."

Izuku stared.

He hadn't expected that.

Gray turned back to his workbench, acting as if he hadn't just said something weirdly encouraging.

Ethan simply chuckled. "Master Gray, was that another attempt at encouragement?"

Gray glared at him.

Ethan's eye flickered mischievously.

Izuku couldn't help but smile.

Maybe his suit wasn't as polished or tactical as Gray's.

Maybe he still had a long way to go.

But at the very least...Gray didn't think it was worthless. Izuku could take that, at least. He sat back on a chair, still hugging his notebook to his chest.

Izuku had finally, finally, gotten over the sheer shock and mild existential dread that came with comparing his suit to Gray's.

It wasn't that his design was bad, per se.

It just...paled in comparison to the hyper-efficient, militaristic, and terrifying masterpiece that Gray was crafting.

And yet, somehow, Gray had encouraged him.

Well... encouraged him in the most robotic, emotionally-stunted way possible. But still!

It counted.

And Ethan was not about to let that go unnoticed. The robotic butler crossed his arms, eye flickering playfully. "Master Gray, I must say...I am quite impressed."

Gray, going over a schematic, didn't even look up. "By what?"

"Why, by your heartwarming words of encouragement, of course."

Gray froze mid-motion.

Izuku perked up immediately.

"Oh my god, you're right!" Izuku exclaimed, a mischievous grin forming. "Gray, you totally gave me motivational advice!"

Gray staggered.

Ethan continued, unrelenting. He was finally doing this whole teasing thing correctly! "Indeed. I was under the impression that providing emotional support was beneath you, and yet—"

"I am going to dismantle you."

Ethan let out a mockingly thoughtful hum. "So defensive. Master Gray, I believe you may be growing as a person."

Gray gripped the edge of the table so hard the wood creaked.

Izuku, who had been panicking about his costume literally five minutes ago, was now grinning ear to ear.

"I mean, it did actually help!" he said cheerfully. "Maybe motivational speeches are your hidden talent, Kishimi-san!"

Gray stared at him.

Then at Ethan.

Then at the very sharp, very throwable feather-shaped Kunais on his workbench.

Izuku noticed and immediately panicked.

"W-WAIT, NO NEED FOR VIOLENCE!!"

After Ethan had stopped poking fun at Gray (for now), and Izuku had stopped fearing for his life, the green-haired boy sat up straighter.

"A-Alright!" He clenched his fists, a determined glint in his eyes. "I'm gonna make my costume even better! I-It may not be super high-tech, b-but I'll make sure it works for me!"

Gray, leaning back in his chair, simply sighed.

"...I already regret this conversation."

Ethan hummed again. "Actions have consequences, Master Gray."

Gray glared.

Izuku chuckled.

But then—

Gray turned his eyes toward him, expression shifting into something more serious.

"...Midoriya."

Izuku blinked. "H-Hm?"

Gray studied him for a long moment.

Then, finally—

"How do you plan to fight without a quirk?"

Izuku's breath caught in his throat.

He blinked, processing the question.

"I-I..." He hesitated.

Gray didn't move, didn't blink.

His red eyes were calculating, dissecting, waiting for an answer.

"...You've been training with me for months," Gray continued, his voice even. "You're learning how to fight. How to move. How to react."

Izuku nodded slowly.

"But that's not a plan," Gray said bluntly. "That's just training."

Izuku's grip tightened around his notebook.

"Training is important," Gray allowed. "But training without a strategy is meaningless."

Izuku swallowed.

Gray leaned forward slightly. "So I'll ask again. What's your plan?"

The silence hung heavy. Izuku opened his mouth—then shut it. It was such a simple question. And yet, Izuku couldn't answer it.

Not because he hadn't thought about it before. Not because he hadn't been training. But because he literally couldn't tell Gray the truth.

He couldn't tell him about One For All. He couldn't tell him that he was training under All Might himself. And, most of all—he couldn't tell him that, until recently...he never had a plan at all.

Gray simply watched him, arms crossed, waiting. Izuku opened his mouth—then shut it. Then tried again. "I—"

No words came.

Because even if he hadn't met All Might, what was his plan? Had he even had one? Would he have just kept blindly pushing forward, hoping that some miracle would make things work out?

He wasn't like Gray.

Gray already had a plan.

Gray knew what he was doing.

From the looks of it, Gray had trained since childhood, honed his body and mind, and had the resources, connections, and people to back up his ambitions.

Gray tilted his head slightly. "You don’t have an answer, do you?" Sure, he knew all about Izuku's training with All Might and his current plan of attaining One For All, but he was curious about what Izuku was planning to do before all that. As well as having some much needed 

Izuku shrunk slightly. "I-I mean, I was gonna figure it out along the way…"

Gray sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was dealing with an exhausted headache.

"Midoriya."

Izuku flinched.

"Be honest," Gray continued, arms crossed. "Before all of this—before we started training, before you started working toward U.A.—did you even have a plan? Or start doing something to pursue your dream?"

Izuku opened his mouth.

Then shut it.

Then opened it again.

Then shut it again.

Gray raised a brow. "That’s what I thought."

Izuku sank in his seat, groaning. "O-Okay, okay! No, I didn’t have a plan! I just…I just wanted it so badly I thought I could figure it out as I went!"

Gray sighed, shaking his head. "You really were just gonna charge in and hope for the best, huh?"

Izuku winced. "M-Maybe…?"

Gray gave him a long, blank stare. Then, with complete deadpan delivery, he flicked Izuku’s forehead.

Izuku yelped. "Ow! What was that for?!"

Gray rolled his eyes. "For being an idiot."

Izuku pouted. "H-Hey! It’s not like I had a lot of options!"

Gray exhaled slowly. "I get that."

Izuku perked up slightly. "Y-You do?"

Gray nodded. "But running forward without thinking isn’t the same thing as having no options. That’s just recklessness."

Izuku slumped. "You sound like my mom…"

"Then your mom is correct."

Izuku groaned dramatically. "Oof. That hurt more than the forehead flick…"

Gray exhaled, shifting slightly. Perhaps, I was being too harsh.

"...That being said," Gray finally spoke again, voice calmer, "I do think that one thing about you is...admirable."

Izuku's head snapped up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

"W-What?!"

Gray gave him a blank look. "Did I stutter?"

"Oh my." The robotic butler tilted his head, eye flickering with amusement. "Master Gray, you are on a roll today, aren't you? Giving someone compliments, not just once, but three times by my count? That's unheard of coming from you!"

Gray froze.

Izuku’s head snapped toward Ethan so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash.

“W-Wait…” Izuku’s eyes widened in realization. “T-Three times?!”

Ethan hummed thoughtfully. “Indeed.”

He raised a metallic finger. “First: When you told him to ‘keep working on it’ regarding his costume.”

Gray’s eye twitched.

“Second: When you said his design ‘suits him.’”

Izuku gasped dramatically.

Gray’s grip on his chair tightened.

“And third,” Ethan gestured toward the now smugly grinning Izuku, “when you called his persistence admirable.”

“Oh my god.” Izuku slammed his hands on the table. “K-Kishimi-san, you’ve been complimenting me this whole time?!”

Gray's eye twitched. "It was an objective statement."

Ethan hummed knowingly. "Mm, yes. And how rare it is for you to make such objective statements of admiration."

Izuku's shock morphed into giddy disbelief. "W-Wait, no! Let's go back to that! You actually think something about me is admirable?! K-Kishimi-san, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!!"

Gray's jaw clenched.

"...I take it back."

"NO! TOO LATE! YOU SAID IT!"

Gray groaned loudly, running a hand down his face. Ethan placed a hand over his chestplate in mock sentimentality. "This is truly a momentous occasion. Gray Kishimi, giving out words of praise. A rare sight indeed. This is a historic moment. I must write this down."

Gray shot him a deadly glare. "I will shut you down."

Ethan clearly enjoyed himself. "A small price to pay for posterity."

Izuku grinned. "That doesn't change the fact that you actually think I'm admirable!!"

Gray rubbed his temples. Why do I regret everything I say around these two?

"...I simply meant that your ability to persist despite everything is...notable."

Izuku beamed. "Still a compliment."

Gray exhaled sharply. "I hate both of you."

Ethan simply let out an amused hum. "Ah, the struggles of emotional growth."

Gray groaned again.

Izuku, still processing the fact that Gray actually acknowledged something positive about him, was now grinning like an idiot.

"I-I’m admirable, huh? W-Well, if you think so, Kishimi-san—"

Gray stood up immediately. "I’m leaving."

"NO, COME BACK—"

Ethan, chuckling, watched as Gray quickly made his exit. "You should cherish this memory, Young Midoriya. You may never hear such praise again."

Izuku laughed, still a little stunned.

Gray Kishimi. Complimenting him.

Yeah, he was never letting that go.

---

Later that night, Izuku sat at his desk, notebook open, pencil tapping against the paper.

Tonight, his usual pages of hero analysis were taking a different turn. Instead of writing, he was drawing.

Or at least, trying to.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at the sketch forming on the page—a rough version of Gray’s hero costume. The sharp angles, the sleek design, the intimidating cowl with its red lenses and raven-like silhouette…

It was awesome!

But also…really hard to draw.

Izuku bit his lip, erasing a line for the fifth time.

Ugh, why is this so hard?! It looked so cool in person!

Despite the struggle, he kept going, determined to capture every detail he remembered.

Because Gray wouldn’t talk about it, and Izuku was way too curious to just let it go.

"Why a raven?" Izuku mumbled to himself as he shaded in the cowl. Why not an eagle, or a hawk?

He paused, frowning thoughtfully. When he had asked him about it, Gray had just given him a flat I like ravens as an answer earlier, which was so unhelpful.

Kishimi-san is…complicated, Izuku thought as well as wrote in the profile. He’s blunt, serious, and kind of scary sometimes. But…he’s also really smart. And he’s right about a lot of things.

He chewed the end of his pen.

When we first met, I thought he didn’t care about anything. But…that’s not true. He’s just careful about what he does care about.

He paused. Even though he scolded me today, I think it’s because he actually wants me to succeed. Even if he won’t say it.

Izuku sighed, shaking his head. To him, Gray Kishimi was such a mystery.

But still…

A small smile formed on Izuku’s lips as he continued sketching.

He was just so happy that ever since he was four...he finally had someone he could call a real friend!

Gray sat at his desk, resting his chin on his knuckles. Ethan, as usual, stood nearby, cleaning off the workbench. For a while, there was silence. Then, finally—

“…He’s a moron,” Gray muttered.

Ethan hummed. “Oh?”

Gray sighed. “He had no plan. None. He was just throwing himself into danger like an idiot.”

Ethan tilted his head. “And yet, despite that, you let him stay by your side.”

Gray clicked his tongue, looking away. “But...He's not completely hopeless.”

Ethan single eye glowed.

Gray turned toward his workbench, muttering, “...I need to double the intensity of his training.”

“Oh dear,” Ethan said dryly. “Shall I prepare an ambulance in advance?”

Gray snorted. "No. He’ll adapt."

Ethan chuckled. “Spoken like a true mentor.”

Gray visibly froze.

Ethan’s eye flickered mischievously.

“Oh my. Have I struck a nerve, Master Gray?”

Gray gripped the bridge of his nose. “I am not his mentor.”

“Mm. Denial is often the first stage of acceptance.”

“I swear to everything in this world—”

Ethan actually laughed, stepping out of the room before Gray could launch something at him.

And for the first time in a long while, Gray allowed himself a small, barely-there smile.

Just for a second.

Then, just like that, it was gone.

Chapter Text

Izuku sat alone at his desk, mechanically eating his lunch, doing his best to tune out the noise of his classmates.

It was always like this.

Every day, the same murmurs, the same snickers, the same mocking looks whenever someone so much as glanced at him.

After all, he was Izuku Midoriya—the quirkless nobody.

It didn't matter that he had been training harder than ever before. It didn't matter that his body was getting stronger, that his mind was sharper, that his endurance had skyrocketed.

Because here—in this hellhole of a school—none of that mattered.

Here, he was still at the bottom.

Izuku tightened his grip on his chopsticks, forcing himself to breathe and stay calm.

Just a few more weeks. Just survive a few more weeks, and you'll never have to come back here again.

He focused on his food, chewing slowly, when—

A shadow loomed over him.

Izuku felt his body tense before he even looked up.

The familiar click-click-click of tiny explosions crackled in his ears.

"...The hell's up with you lately, Deku?"

Izuku's stomach dropped.

Katsuki Bakugou.

Izuku didn't respond. He just stared down at his food, willing himself to stay calm. But Bakugou wasn't the type to be ignored. A hand slammed down onto Izuku's desk, shaking it slightly.

"I asked you a question, nerd."

Izuku flinched—just slightly—but Bakugou noticed.

His grin widened.

"You've been actin' weird. You're up to something." Bakugou's red eyes narrowed. "Spill it."

Izuku swallowed hard. "I-I don't know what you're talking about..."

Bakugou clicked his tongue. "Tch. That's bull."

He leaned in closer, eyes burning with something dangerous.

"Doesn't matter what you're scheming. At the end of the day, U.A. ain't gonna take a quirkless reject like you."

Izuku felt his breath hitch.

"You hear me, Deku?" Bakugou grinned, explosions crackling at his palm. "No matter what pathetic idea you got in that nerd brain of yours, it won't change a damn thing. You'll always be a failure."

Izuku clenched his fists under the desk.

He wanted to say something.

Anything.

But the years of conditioning—the years of fear—made his throat close up.

Bakugou scoffed, standing up straight. "Hope you're ready to watch me leave you in the dust."

Then, just like that, he walked off.

Izuku let out a shaky breath.

His hands were trembling.

Even after everything... after months of training...

Why?

Why did Kacchan's words still make him feel so small?

That evening, Izuku sat at his desk, eyes unfocused, tapping his pencil against his unfinished homework. The encounter with Bakugou replayed in his mind, over and over. It wasn't just today.

It was years of this.

Years of silence.

Years of never telling anyone.

Not his teachers.

Not his classmates.

Not even his mother.

He told himself it was because his mom was close friends with Mitsuki Bakugou. He told himself it was because he didn't want to ruin that. But deep down...he knew that wasn't the real reason.

The real reason was that he had always hoped—prayed—that somehow, some way, Kacchan would change.

That maybe, just maybe, they could go back to how things used to be.

Izuku sighed, rubbing his face.

And then there was Gray Kishimi.

His eerily sharp training partner who, despite never asking about his personal life, had somehow figured it out.

Izuku had only mentioned Kacchan once.

Once.

And that was all it took. Gray hadn't said anything at first. He had just watched him.

Studied him.

And then, one day—out of nowhere—Gray confronted him directly.

"Who is he?"

Izuku had nearly choked on his drink.

"H-Huh?! W-Who's who?"

Gray had simply stared at him.

"The one who makes you flinch when I move too quickly. The one who makes you hesitate to fight back. The one whose name you said once, but whose weight lingers on your shoulders every time we train."

Izuku had no idea how to respond.

He still doesn't.

And the fact that Gray won't explain how he even figured it out just makes it worse.

He groaned, shaking his head.

Just focus on something else.

His gaze fell on his unfinished homework.

Oh right. That.

Izuku grimaced.

It was way too hard.

Which meant there was only one solution.

He grabbed his phone and fired off a text.

[Izuku Midoriya:  Hey, Kishimi-san, can you help me with my homework? ]

A few seconds later, the reply came.

[Gray Kishimi:  Again? ]

Izuku slumped onto his desk.

Yeah.

Just another normal night.

[Izuku:  Please? ]

Izuku could just feel Gray sigh through the screen.

[Gray Kishimi:  Fine. What do you need help with? ]

The study session of helping Izuku with his Science homework was going well, really. And although Izuku is rather quite smart himself, it's just that sometimes...Gray constantly shows just how much of a gap there was between the two of them in terms of academic intellect. Izuku stared at his phone screen, squinting at Gray's response like it was written in another language.

[Gray Kishimi:  The equation must be approached with a methodical reduction of extraneous variables to ensure a streamlined computational process, thus simplifying the resulting expression.

Sincerely, Gray Kishimi. ]

Izuku blinked.

Then blinked again.

Then leaned back in his chair, running both hands down his face. "W-What does that even mean?!" he groaned.

He grabbed his phone and quickly typed:

[Izuku Midoriya:  K-Kishimi-san, can you please use normal words?? ]

A moment later—

[Gray Kishimi: That was normal.]

[Izuku Midoriya: IT WAS NOT.]

Gray's reply came instantly.

[Gray Kishimi:  That is subjective.

Sincerely, Gray Kishimi. ]

Izuku comically slammed his forehead against his desk.

Izuku pulled himself up, sighing as he typed.

[Izuku Midoriya:  Also! You don't have to end every text with 'Sincerely, Gray Kishimi!' ]

[Gray Kishimi:  Why not? ]

[Izuku Midoriya:  Because nobody does that!!! ]

[Gray Kishimi:  And yet you are the ONLY person I know who manages to stutter in text messages. 

Sincerely, Gray Kishimi. ]

Izuku gaped at his phone. "Alright...he got me. But still! My point still stands!"

With a frustrated whine, Izuku buried his face in his hands.

Gray sat at his office desk, looking at his phone.

Ethan, standing nearby, peered over his shoulder. "Ah, a battle of social ineptitude. Fascinating."

Gray glanced at him. "He's ridiculous."

Ethan tilted his head. "And yet, here you are, indulging him."

Gray ignored him. Instead, he tapped out another text. There was something he needed to discuss with Izuku.

[Gray Kishimi:  Also, be at my manor tomorrow.

Sincerely, Gray Kishimi. ]

Seconds later—

[Izuku Midoriya:  H-Huh?! Why?! ]

[Gray Kishimi:  You'll see. ]

Sincerely, Gray Kishimi. ]

[Izuku Midoriya:  STOP SIGNING OFF YOUR TEXTS LIKE THAT!!! ]

Izuku chuckled as he put the phone down as he wonders what Gray would want to talk to him about.

Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

Izuku stood in front of the massive gates of the Kishimi estate, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Even though this wasn't his first time here, he still couldn't get over it.

This place is insane.

It was one thing to know Gray was (technically) a billionaire.

It was another to see it in person.

As he rang the doorbell, the gates whirred to life, opening automatically.

Izuku barely had time to react before a smooth, mechanical voice greeted him.

"Welcome, Master Midoriya," Ethan's voice rang through a speaker.

Izuku still wasn't used to that. As he stepped inside, the front doors opened, and Ethan himself was already waiting.

"I must say," the robotic butler mused, "for someone so frequently invited here, you still look as if you expect to be turned away."

Izuku laughed nervously. "W-Well, it's still kind of overwhelming, y-you know?"

Ethan chuckled. "Yes. I imagine the home of a billionaire super-genius would be... intimidating."

Izuku pouted. "Y-You don't have to say it like that."

Ethan tapped his chin. "Would you prefer I sugarcoat it?"

"I-I mean—"

"I could call Master Gray an eccentric introvert with mildly concerning paranoia issues instead."

Izuku snorted. "W-Wait, you actually roast him?"

"Frequently," Ethan responded with absolute seriousness. "I have learned that 'roasting' is a healthy and productive thing that friends and family alike do amongst themselves."

Izuku giggled.

Okay.

Maybe he was getting used to being here.

Ethan led Izuku down the familiar grand halls, stopping at the door of Gray's study.

"He's expecting you," Ethan said, his usual playful tone softening slightly.

Izuku blinked.

Something about Ethan's tone sounded...different. More serious. Like he knew something important was about to happen.

"...Uh, thanks, Ethan."

Ethan nodded, stepping aside as Izuku hesitantly pushed open the door.

Inside, Gray sat at his desk, fingers laced together, expression unreadable.

Unlike usual, he wasn't training.

Wasn't working on tech.

Wasn't even reading.

He was waiting.

Izuku swallowed.

Something about this felt...heavier. Izuku sat uncomfortably on the chair, his hands gripping his knees. Gray sat across from him, arms crossed, eyes sharp and unreadable.

Ethan, standing off to the side, seemed content observing, knowing that this conversation wasn't one he needed to interfere with.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

"You defend him," Gray said simply.

Izuku blinked. "...H-Huh?"

"This 'Kacchan' whom you've mentioned. You defend him."

Izuku swallowed. He didn't like where this was going. Gray leaned forward slightly, eyes locked onto Izuku's. "And I want to know why."

Izuku felt his breath hitch. "W-What do you mean?"

Gray exhaled, his patience thinning.

"Midoriya," he started, his tone firm but not unkind, "I invited you here because we need to have a serious discussion about him. About how you keep defending him."

Izuku stiffened. "...How did you know?" At this point, he had to ask directly.

Gray sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It wasn't hard."

He lifted a finger, beginning his explanation.

"I always notice the scorch marks on your body whenever we spar."

Izuku's eyes widen as Gray raised another finger.

"You flinch at sounds similar to sparks or explosions—even when they aren't directed at you."

Another.

"And most obviously?" Gray gestured toward a copy of the partially burned notebook sitting beside him. One of Izuku's hero analysis books.

Izuku inhaled sharply. He didn't even want to know how Gray managed to somehow make a full copy of that already.

"You carry too many signs, Midoriya," Gray continued, voice calm but firm. "I wasn't fully certain until you finally said his nickname. That's when I confirmed it."

He leaned back, arms crossing again. "I didn't mention it before because you never did. And when you do talk about him, you speak positively. Almost... admirably."

Gray tilted his head slightly, as if the very thought puzzled him. "But now," Gray said, his eyes narrowing slightly, "I can't ignore it anymore."

He studied Izuku carefully.

"I know you're in some kind of trouble, Midoriya."

His next words were slower, almost unsure.

"And...I want to help."

Izuku snapped his head up.

Something about the way Gray said it—like even he didn't understand why he was saying it—caught him completely off guard.

Was Gray...worried about him?

Did Gray Kishimi—the most emotionally detached person Izuku had ever met—actually care?

"Do you think that there is anything wrong with your relationship with him?" Gray asked.

Izuku tensed. "N-No! There's—t-there's nothing wrong!" he stammered, defensive.

Gray didn't react. He simply gestured toward the burned notebook.

"...You say that," he said slowly, "yet the results say otherwise."

Izuku had no defense. Gray's piercing blue-gray eyes never left him.

"You can try to justify it all you want," Gray continued, voice cool, methodical. "But the fact is simple: He bullies you."

Izuku opened his mouth to argue—but no words came out.

Gray kept going. "And if he does things like this"—he gestured again to the burn marks—"then that doesn't sound like a 'friend' to me."

Izuku's hands clenched into fists. "I-It's complicated!" he blurted.

Gray didn't blink. "...Is it really?"

Izuku sucked in a breath. He had no answer. And for the first time in his life—Someone wasn't letting him run from the truth.

Izuku sat stiffly, fidgeting under Gray's scrutinizing gaze.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and unrelenting.

Gray sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright," he started, voice even but firm. "Let's go back a step."

Izuku blinked. "H-Huh?"

Gray leaned forward, eyes sharp and calculating.

"I have some questions. About your school," Gray clarified.

Izuku swallowed.

Gray steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable.

"Did any of your teachers ever stand up for you?"

Izuku flinched. His silence was enough of an answer.

Gray's expression darkened. "Did 'Kaachan' ever get punished for what he did?"

Izuku looked away, gripping his pants tightly. "...No."

Gray's jaw tightened. "What about your classmates?" he pressed. "What are the people there like in general?"

Izuku hesitated. "They... they just ignore it," he admitted quietly. "Some laugh. Others look the other way. No one really does anything."

Gray's fingers tapped against the desk.

"And the school environment itself? Is it safe?"

Izuku let out a weak, hollow laugh.

"Not really."

Gray's fingers stopped tapping.

"What school do you go to?"

Izuku hesitated before finally answering.

"Aldera Junior High."

Gray's expression shifted.

It was subtle—barely noticeable to anyone who didn't know him well.

But Izuku saw it.

A flicker of something...calculated. Gray nodded once. "Hm. I see."

And then—

He went completely silent.

Izuku watched in growing anxiety as Gray's entire demeanor changed.

His gaze lowered slightly, his expression blank but his mind clearly running a thousand miles per second.

It was the look of someone plotting something...devious.

Izuku felt a cold chill run down his spine. "H-Huh?" he stammered. "K-Kishimi-san...?"

Gray shook his head, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry," he said vaguely.

Then, with an air of pure, ominous certainty—

"I'll take care of it."

Izuku's panic skyrocketed.

"W-WAIT, WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!"

Gray ignored him and smoothly changed the subject. "I actually called you here for another reason," he said, standing up.

Izuku blinked rapidly, still reeling from the previous statement. "W-We're just gonna move on from that?!"

"Yes," Gray said flatly, already walking toward the training room. Izuku groaned, burying his face in his hands before scrambling to follow. As they entered the high-tech training facility beneath the manor, Gray gestured toward an unassuming console.

"I've been working on something new, an Augmented Reality Training Simulation, to be exact. I need to test it," he explained.

Izuku's previous panic vanished instantly. His eyes widened. "W-Wait... WHAT?!"

Gray crossed his arms. "It should function properly, but I need a second participant to test the realism and responsiveness of the simulation."

Izuku's brain short-circuited. Not only did Gray create something like this—BUT HE WAS GOING TO LET HIM TRAIN IN IT?!

Izuku shook Gray by the shoulders. "K-KISHIMI-SAN, YOU HAVE A FULLY FUNCTIONAL REALITY HERO TRAINING SIMULATION?!"

Gray frowned. "Stop shaking me."

Izuku was vibrating with excitement.

This was going to be AWESOME.

Gray walked over to the console as Izuku practically buzzed with excitement.

"This isn't just about physical conditioning," Gray began, his tone serious. "We've both been training to improve our combat skills, endurance, and reaction time."

Izuku nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! And I've been getting way better at dodging, too!"

Gray glanced at him. "You still hesitate too much."

Izuku deflated. "...R-Right."

Gray returned his attention to the console, typing in a sequence of commands.

"But as I was saying," he continued, "the physical aspect of heroism is only one side of the equation. The real job is far more complicated than just fighting villains."

Izuku blinked. "Huh?"

Gray gestured toward the large circular platform in the center of the training room. It was sleek, lined with hidden projectors and holographic emitters.

"This simulation is designed to prepare us for the unpredictable." Gray's fingers flew across the keyboard, and suddenly, the entire room dimmed as the emitters whirred to life. "Real combat situations. Urban rescues. Hostage scenarios. Tactical adaptability."

Izuku's eyes widened in both shock and growing excitement. "Y-You're saying-!"

Gray nodded. "Yes. It's time to put our training to the test."

With a press of a button, the simulation shifted, and holographic enemies flickered into existence before them. At first, they took the form of various opponents—some built for close-quarters combat, others wielding mid-to-long-range abilities.

Gray paused.

"Hm." He hummed. That seemed to be too much for a first test. So, He quickly adjusted the settings, and the enemies morphed into more simplistic combat dummies—holographic figures with no quirks, programmed purely for melee combat.

Izuku exhaled, bouncing on his heels, loosening up. "O-Okay! Just hand-to-hand, right? Or..."

Gray rolled his shoulders, stepping forward into a low, balanced stance. "Yes. For now, no quirks, no weapons—just everything we've learned."

Izuku nodded, grinning nervously, yet excitingly as the two got into the middle of the training area.

The dummies stood motionless, waiting.

Then—

BEEP!

A loud chime signaled the start of the trial.

And the enemies rushed them.

Gray rolled his shoulders, settling into a low, balanced stance. His eyes locked onto the dummies, scanning their postures, the slight nuances in their programming.

He had spent weeks fine-tuning their responsiveness. He needed to see how realistically they moved, how they adapted to a fight. But more than that—

He wanted to see how Izuku performed under pressure.

Without hesitation, Gray took the first leap forward.

The dummies reacted instantly. Two lunged for him, while another broke off toward Izuku.

Izuku tensed, watching the dummy's movements carefully. When it swung—he dodged. Barely.

A gust of air brushed his cheek as he stumbled backward. It was faster than he expected. But before the dummy could land another hit, Izuku clenched his fists and pushed forward.

This time, he reacted properly, twisting his body and landing a solid punch to its midsection.

The dummy staggered.

But only for a moment.

It instantly adjusted its footing, shifting back into position.

Izuku gawked. "W-Whoa, these things are—!"

"Focus."

Gray's voice was calm, but firm.

Izuku had barely registered the warning when the dummy attacked again.

Meanwhile, Gray moved effortlessly between his two opponents.

His movements were precise—controlled.

A parry. A counterstrike. A pivot into a spinning kick that sent one dummy skidding backward.

To him, this was simple.

Izuku, on the other hand, was getting overwhelmed. The dummy's attacks were relentless, and he was still a second too slow in reacting. His footwork wasn't bad—he had improved significantly over the past months—but the dummies weren't pulling their punches.

And he was losing ground.

Gray watched carefully as he fought, noting every mistake, every hesitation.

Then—

Izuku befell.

The dummy lunged, aiming to capitalize on the opening.

Gray clicked his tongue. Not on my watch.

In a single swift motion, Gray pivoted—ducking past his own opponents—

Then intercepted the attack.

A well-placed side kick sent the dummy reeling back before it could strike Izuku.

Izuku scrambled up, panting. "T-Thanks—"

"Stop hesitating."

Gray's words were sharp.

Not unkind, but unforgiving.

Izuku flinched, nodding quickly.

"G-Got it."

Gray didn't say anything else.

Because the fight wasn't over.

The combat dummies got back up and adjusted their stance, recalibrating.

Izuku swallowed hard, adjusting his footing. He had to focus.

Gray, on the other hand, remained completely calm.

Then—they attacked.

Izuku's dummy rushed forward, throwing a straight punch.

Boxing stance—basic but effective.

Izuku shifted into a Muay Thai guard, raising his forearms to block, then retaliated with a low kick to the dummy's knee.

The impact staggered it, but not for long.

The dummy retaliated, throwing a fast hook.

Izuku reacted—too slow.

The punch grazed his cheek.

Damn it!

He quickly switched into a Judo grip, redirecting the dummy's momentum and twisting its arm, but before he could fully execute the throw—

CRACK!

Gray landed a precise, brutal elbow strike against his own opponent's temple, making it stumble. Izuku barely had time to process before he saw Gray move.

What the hell—?!

Gray's entire fighting style was unreal.

A perfect blend of Krav Maga's ruthlessness, Taekwondo's fluid kicks, and Gymnastics' agility.

He moved with calculated efficiency—

Evading attacks with Capoeira-like spins, using his momentum to deliver powerful, unpredictable kicks.

Using Jiu-Jitsu joint locks to neutralize an opponent in seconds.

Mixing in Boxing and Wing Chun's rapid strikes—disabling multiple dummies before they could react.

He wasn't just countering attacks. He was controlling the battlefield.

Izuku barely dodged a punch aimed at his ribs, countering with a straight jab.

"Keep your stance tight, Midoriya." Gray's voice cut through the battle.

Izuku exhaled sharply.

Right. No distractions.

He needed to do what Gray was doing—adapt.

As his opponent attacked again, Izuku didn't just block.

This time, he redirected.

Using Aikido's momentum-based counters, he sidestepped, grabbed the dummy's wrist, and sent it sprawling forward.

Gray noted the improvement immediately.

Good.

But there was still one problem. Izuku wasn't finishing the fight.

He was only defending.

Gray moved past his own downed opponents and, in a single, acrobatic motion, leapt into the air—

Using a vaulting kick straight from Jeet Kune Do, he slammed his foot into the last standing dummy's head.

The impact sent it crashing down.

Then—silence.

All the dummies lay motionless.

The fight was over.

Izuku panted, sweat dripping from his forehead.

Gray? Completely fine.

No sweat. No heavy breathing.

Izuku stared at him. "What... was that?"

Gray finally turned to him, his expression unreadable. "My own style."

Izuku gawked. "Y-You made that?!" He exclaimed.

Gray shrugged. "I took what I was forced to learn... and perfected it."

Izuku gulped in both awe and worry. What...what the hell did this guy go through?

Izuku sat cross-legged on the floor, his chest still rising and falling from the intense spar. His arms ached, his legs burned, but his mind...his mind was elsewhere.

Across the room, Gray stood at the control panel, reviewing the data from the simulation. His expression remained unreadable, eyes scanning the screen with sharp focus.

Izuku swallowed, hesitating.

He had been wondering for months actually.

Gray was different. That much was obvious. Too skilled. Too precise. Too... experienced.

For someone their age, he fought like a seasoned pro hero—no, maybe even better than some pros.

And yet, every time Izuku tried to ask about it, Gray avoided the subject.

At first, Izuku figured maybe he was just being private, but as time passed, he noticed something deeper.

Whenever Izuku asked about Gray's parents—his expression changed.

There was always a subtle shift in his demeanor. A clenched jaw. A slight furrow of his brows. A flicker of something—anger? Pain?

He had noticed how he always dodged questions about his past, shifting conversations before they could go too deep.

He had caught those rare, fleeting moments—when Gray thought no one was looking—where his expression turned distant. Bitter.

It didn't sit right with Izuku.

And now, after half a year of friendship, he needed to ask. More than anything, Izuku wanted to understand.

Not only because he was curious—but because he was worried.

Izuku took a deep breath, gathering his courage.

Then, softly—

"K-Kishimi-san."

Gray didn't look away from the screen. "Hm?"

Izuku exhaled. Now or never.

"Your parents," he started carefully, choosing his words. "Where are they?"

Gray's fingers froze over the keyboard.

For a moment, silence.

Izuku felt the air shift—as if the entire room had suddenly gotten colder.

Then, slowly, Gray turned his head.

His expression was unreadable.

But his eyes...his eyes were different.

They were sharp—like steel.

"...Why do you want to know?"

Izuku hesitated. "B-Because... you never talk about them. I mean, I know y-you have Ethan as your guardian, but I—"

Gray's expression hardened.

Izuku felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Then, Gray spoke. "What I went through," he said, voice firm, controlled, but unmistakably cold, "is none of your business." He coldly stated as he began to leave.

Izuku felt his stomach drop. It wasn't just the words—it was the way he said them.

Gray wasn't annoyed. He wasn't exasperated.

He was shutting the conversation down. Completely.

Izuku clenched his fists. That only made him more determined.

Because no one said something like that unless they were hiding pain.

And Izuku Midoriya never ignored people in pain.

Not when they needed help.

And especially not when that person was his first real friend in years.

Even if Gray didn't see it yet—Izuku did.

One step at a time.

The air was still tense when Gray returned. Izuku had decided not to push any further about his parents—at least, not today. But before he could say anything, something was suddenly thrown at him.

Izuku fumbled, catching it awkwardly against his chest. "W-Whoa! What—?"

It was a standard black training suit.

Before Izuku could even ask, Gray—already dressed in the same gear—handed him a utility belt.

"Put that on," Gray instructed as he fastened his own. "We're going to test for the real challenge."

Izuku's eyes widened. "Y-You mean—?!"

Gray nodded.

"We're going back into the simulation," he confirmed. "This time, we're using support gear."

Izuku swallowed.

His stomach twisted with excitement—and nervousness.

They both had a similar loadout, though Izuku quickly noticed one difference—a training pistol sat holstered on his belt.

"W-Wait," Izuku stammered, eyeing the weapon. "I—I've never used a gun before—"

"It's non-lethal," Gray assured. "You'll need it for ranged threats."

Izuku still wasn't sure how to feel about it, but he nodded.

Besides the pistol, their gadgets included:

• Rope darts (used for tying up enemies or tripping them).
• Grappling hooks for mobility.
• Small non-lethal bombs (flashbangs and smoke pellets).
• Feather-shaped kunai (Gray's personal design).

Izuku took a deep breath, securing the belt around his waist.

As they got back to the relatively large training grounds, the environment shifted as the simulation rebooted.

This time, they were dropped into an urban setting—adark alleyway, flanked by towering digital buildings. Neon lights flickered above them. Izuku still can't get over just how amazingly all of it materialized. It was basically eye-candy for satisfaction,

The simulation's AI spoke overhead.

OBJECTIVE: NEUTRALIZE ALL ENEMIES

Izuku turned to Gray. "A-Are these dummies going to be the same as before?"

"No," Gray replied. "This time, they'll have quirks."

Izuku froze. "W-Wait, WHAT?!"

Before Gray could elaborate, five opponents materialized—each one modeled after an actual villain archetype.

One had enhanced strength.
One had agility.
One had a projectile-based quirk.
One had some kind of telekinesis.
And the last...was unknown.

Izuku's mind raced. This just got a whole lot harder.

Gray, however, was completely calm.

Then—the enemies attacked.

Gray moved first. To Izuku, it was like watching something out of a movie.

He grappled upward, using the height advantage to launch a falling takedown on the agility-based enemy.

Before the telekinetic enemy could react, Gray threw a smoke bomb, obscuring their vision.

He vaulted over an opponent, seamlessly twisting mid-air, and launched a devastating spinning kick.

He threw two feather-shaped Kunais—one hit a pressure point on the projectile-user's wrist, forcing him to drop his weaponized energy blasts.

The second embedded into the ground, releasing a tiny electrical surge that stunned another enemy for a brief moment.

Gray was untouchable.

Every move was calculated—not a single movement wasted.

Izuku was awestruck. He almost forgot that Gray was also quirkless, just like him. But he didn't have time to admire—because now, he was under attack.

The strength-based enemy lunged at him.

Izuku barely dodged in time, rolling clumsily across the alley.

Damn it! How is Kishimi-san making this look so easy?!

He scrambled to his feet, gripping the rope dart on his belt.

In a moment of instinct, he flicked his wrist—the rope extended, wrapping around his opponent's ankle.

It worked!

...For about two seconds.

The enemy ripped through it effortlessly.

"W-WHAT?!" Izuku yelped, backpedaling.

Gray side-eyed him mid-fight.

"Use the environment!" he barked before grappling to a fire escape.

Izuku's mind clicked.

Right—think! Adapt!

He spotted a stack of metal crates nearby.

With a grunt, he grabbed a smoke pellet and threw it at his feet.

As the mist spread, he quickly maneuvered behind the crates, using the cover.

When the enemy charged blindly into the smoke—Izuku struck.

He threw his training gun forward, fired a non-lethal shock round, and stunned the opponent long enough for him to land a full-force kick to the back of their knee.

They collapsed.

Izuku panted heavily, adrenaline pumping.

I... I actually did it! So this is what hero work is gonna be like!

But there was no time to celebrate.

Because another enemy was coming straight for him.

Gray had already dispatched three enemies, leaving only two standing. Izuku, still catching his breath, realized that an enemy was charging straight at Gray. "KISHIMI-SAN—INCOMING!" Izuku shouted.

Gray turned just in time to see one of the enemies launching a projectile at him.

Without hesitation, Izuku reacted.

He grabbed his grappling hook, latched onto the enemy's shoulder, and yanked them backward—just enough to throw off their aim.

The blast missed.

Gray took the opening.

With a silent nod toward Izuku, he rushed forward, landing a brutal Muay Thai knee strike to the enemy's stomach, knocking them unconscious.

The last opponent—Izuku's original enemy—tried to flee.

Izuku acted on instinct. He aimed his rope dart—this time, carefully. With a flick of his wrist, it wrapped securely around the target's leg. And this time, it held.

The enemy tripped, crashing to the ground.

Gray, without missing a beat, landed the final blow.

Objective Complete.

The simulation flickered and then powered down as everything around them began to dematerialize.

They had won.

Izuku collapsed onto his back, gasping for breath.

Gray simply adjusted his gauntlets.

Izuku groaned. "H-How... h-how are you not exhausted?!"

Gray glanced down at him.

"I trained for this." He said in a completely blunt, casual tone.

Izuku wheezed.

Gray exhaled, shaking his head.

"...You still need a lot of work," he stated bluntly.

Izuku groaned again. "I—I know!"

Then—something unexpected.

Gray sighed. "But...you did well, though. Your adaptability and quick thinking is impressive. You've learned a lot."

Izuku froze as he snapped upward, pointing a finger at Gr with a bright, all-to-knowing smile.

"T-THERE IT IS AGAIN! THAT'S FOUR TIMES YOU'VE GIVEN ME A COMPLIMENT NOW!"

Gray's expression instantly deadpanned.

"...Sure." He had just accepted his fate at this point, causing Izuku to freak out even more. But, Gray meant those words. They weren't wrong. As far as they've known each other, Izuku had always been a quick learner. A bit reckless, sure, but...his ability to adapt under pressure, analyze situations on the fly, and improve so rapidly—

It was an aspect of him that Gray found favorable.

After the training session, Izuku went back to the manor as Gray stayed behind for a bit. The AR simulation had been successful, but he said that he wanted to add some more tweaks to it. So here Izuku was, sitting on a sofa in his living room.

Well, one of them.

Even after months of visiting, he still couldn't wrap his head around just how massive this place was. One mansion—multiple living rooms. Why? Who needs that many?

But that wasn't what was really on his mind.

Gray.

His reaction to the question about his parents had been severe. Izuku had seen him be cold, detached, calculating—but never like that. Never that shut off.

He didn't regret asking. Gray was his friend. And when Izuku saw someone struggling—even if they didn't admit it—he wanted to help.

But how?

How could he get Gray to open up?

Just as he was deep in thought, a voice spoke from directly behind him.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"AHHH!"

Izuku screamed—totally not like a girl—as he jumped from his seat. He whipped around, heart pounding, only to find Ethan standing directly behind him.

The robotic butler tilted his head. "Was that... an unusual response to a simple question?"

Izuku clutched his chest. "E-Ethan?! D-Don't just sneak up on people like that!"

"My apologies, Master Midoriya," Ethan said with a slight bow. "I merely noticed that you appeared to be in deep contemplation. I thought I might offer my assistance, should you wish to... as you humans say, vent."

"Still! Y-You really need to stop sneaking up on me like that..." he muttered before exhaling.

Ethan simply tilted his head. "My footsteps are completely audible."

Izuku pouted. "O-Okay, wow. Y-You and Gray really are alike sometimes, huh?"

"I shall take that as a compliment," Ethan replied smoothly.

"That's-!...Sure." Izuku mumbled before shifting awkwardly.

He hesitated, blinking at the robot.

Should I talk to Ethan? About Kishimi-san?

He wasn't sure if that was a good idea, but... at the same time, who knew Gray better than Ethan?

"...Actually," Izuku sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "I do wanna talk about something."

Ethan simply nodded. "Go on."

Izuku shifted uncomfortably. He had no idea how to start.

After a moment, he sighed.

"...I'm worried about Gray."

Ethan tilted his head slightly, his metallic fingers tapping against his palm. "In what way?"

Izuku tightened his fists, looking down. "He's...always so closed off. I-I mean, I know he's not great at socializing, but...it's more than that."

Ethan remained silent, allowing him to continue.

"I asked him about his parents today," Izuku admitted. "And he completely shut me down."

Ethan's glowing eye dimmed slightly.

Izuku exhaled, frustrated—but not at Gray. "I just...I don't know what to do. I wanna help, but he won't let me. He acts like it doesn't matter, but I can see it."

His grip tightened. "...He looks angry. And sometimes, he looks sad. I know it's not my place, but..."

Izuku looked up, his voice firm.

"I just don't want him to be alone."

Ethan's eye flickered as he processed Izuku's words.

"Master Gray," he began, "is a complicated individual."

"Yeah. No kidding." Izuku said.

Ethan let out a soft hum.

"You wish to help him."

It wasn't a question.

Izuku nodded in determination. "Of course I do. He's my friend."

The butler was quiet for a moment. Then, unexpectedly— Ethan bowed.

"...Thank you, Master Midoriya."

Izuku blinked, completely caught off guard.

"W-Wait, what? Why are you thanking me?" He sputtered.

Ethan straightened, his single blue eye flickering softly. "Before you entered our lives," Ethan explained, "Gray was...closed off from everything."

Izuku swallowed, listening intently.

Ethan continued. "Even to me, he rarely spoke. His emotions were channeled solely into training—physically and academically. He worked tirelessly, pushing himself beyond the limits of the average human."

Ethan's eye flickered slightly.

"This manor, much like its owner, had been cold and empty."

Izuku felt his chest tighten.

"But then... you arrived."

Ethan gestured vaguely to the room.

"And suddenly, it was not so empty anymore."

Izuku froze.

Ethan nodded. "Gray may not realize it yet, but you have already started the change you desire."

Izuku felt blown away.

Not just because of Ethan's words—but because...

Ethan was a robot. A fully mechanical being...and yet, his words carried so much warmth. He never knew that a robot could be so human.

Izuku stared, unable to find his voice.

"He is still emotionally distant, yes," Ethan admitted. "And his demeanor has not changed drastically."

"But I have seen him grow...comfortable." The robot butler stated. "For the first time... I have seen him at ease in someone else's company."

Ethan's gaze locked onto Izuku's. "You have already begun the change you desire."

Izuku's eyes widen.

He had no idea.

He had spent so much time worrying about how to get Gray to open up, how to help him—that he never realized he had already started to.

His heart swelled with something warm. Izuku swallowed hard, staring at Ethan. "You...really care about him, don't you?"

Ethan was silent for a long moment. Then, quietly—

"Maria cared for him first."

Izuku raised surprised but curious brow at a name suddenly being mentioned.

"...Maria?"

Ethan's blue eye flickered as he shook his cycloptic head. "My apologies. I've spoken too much."

Izuku opened his mouth, but something about the way Ethan's tone shifted—controlled, yet final— made him hesitate. Something told him pushing further wouldn't get him any answers. Not yet. But at least, he now had a name and that he knew a little more about Gray's past.

Back at the underground base, Gray sat alone at his main computer with his thoughts. The dim glow of multiple screens illuminated his sharp features, his blue eyes scanning rapidly through decades of hero records.

It was all here. Historical archives. Old hero registries. Confidential reports.

And yet—nothing definitive.

His fingers tapped rhythmically against the console as file after file appeared before him.

One For All.

A quirk that shouldn't be possible.

A power passed down from one generation to the next. A quirk that accumulated strength over time, growing with each successor.

A quirk that Izuku Midoriya was soon going to inherit.

Gray exhaled sharply through his nose.

"Tch. How reckless."

He wasn't even sure who he was referring to—Izuku, for blindly walking into something unknown, or himself, for giving a damn in the first place.

Gray leaned forward, his hands steepled as he continued analyzing the data before him.

If One For All had been passed down for generations, then who were the previous wielders?

His mind raced with questions:

Who created One For All?

How was it first transferred?

How many users have there been?

How did they manage to keep it hidden for so long?

And the most nagging question of all—

Why was he caring so damn much?

Gray scowled, shutting his eyes for a brief moment.

He told himself it was logical concern—Izuku was throwing himself into a completely unknown situation, blindly accepting a power that neither he nor All Might seemed to fully comprehend.

Someone had to set him straight.

That was all.

That was the reason.

Because Ethan said he needed to have some friends.
Because Ethan said he needed to have some actual human interactions.
Because—

Gray's hands clenched slightly.

Needed? Or...wanted?

The realization made his brow furrow in annoyance.

He hated not knowing his own mind.

Gray exhaled sharply, forcing his focus back onto the files before him.

For now, he would continue his research.

Because whether he admitted it or not—Izuku was in potential danger.

And Gray didn't like leaving things to chance.

After that, the day had finally reached evening and Izuku bid his goodbye to Gray's manor and was off back to home. It's been a long day.

The smell of hot miso soup and katsudon filled the kitchen as Izuku sat at the table, eating his food. Inko Midoriya watched with a soft smile, her heart swelling with warmth.

Her son had been...different these past months.

For the longest time, he had always looked defeated after coming home from school—shoulders slumped, eyes downcast, exhaustion laced into his every movement. Despite all this, her son would always insist and lie that everything was alright with a fake smile. He would lie as if Inko didn't know. She knew. But she also didn't know to to confront it.

But now?

Now, he came home with a little more energy.

With excitement.

With a genuine spark of happiness.

And she wanted to know the person to thank for that.

Izuku sat across from his mother, absentmindedly pushing his food around with his chopsticks. His mind was still reeling from everything that had happened today—Gray's reaction to his question, Ethan's words, and the growing mystery surrounding his friend.

And now, Gray was off somewhere in his underground lair, probably still working on whatever research he's doing. That guy never knew when to take a break.

'Maybe I should text him later...' His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when his mother spoke up.

"...Izuku," she said suddenly, gently setting down her chopsticks.

Izuku, mid-bite, blinked up at her. "Hm?"

Inko smiled warmly. "I want to meet your friend."

Izuku almost choked.

"W-WHAT?!"

Inko chuckled softly at his reaction. "What's with that face? You talk about him all the time."

"I-I do?!" Izuku squeaked. He hadn't even realized.

"Well, not directly," she admitted. "But you've been coming home happier. You even hum when you do your homework now."

"I-I what?!"

She giggled, waving a hand. "It's cute, sweetie. And...it makes me happy."

Izuku rubbed his neck, his face heating up. "M-Mom..."

Inko smiled softly before her expression turned more serious.

"You know, Izuku... ever since things fell apart between you and Katsuki, I've been worried about you."

Izuku froze as his grip on his chopsticks tightened instinctively. "...What?"

Seeing this, Inko decided to make a confirmation. "Izuku." her voice was gentle, but firm. "I know."

He hesitated before looking up at her, confused. "K-Know what...?" Izuku asked, still pretending not to know what his mother was talking about.

Inko sighed, placing her hands together on the table. "Sweetheart...I know that Katsuki has been bullying you."

Izuku felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs.

"W-Wha—? H-How—?"

"I'm not blind, Izuku." She continued gently.

Izuku lowered his gaze.

"I'm your mother. Of course, I know," Inko said, her voice tinged with sadness. "I...didn't say anything before because you insisted that everything was fine. It worried me."

Izuku gritted his teeth.

He couldn't argue with that.

He had always defended Kacchan. Always convinced himself that Katsuki would change. That maybe one day, he'd go back to being the friend Izuku once knew. But deep down...he knew that day was never coming.

Inko sighed, placing a hand over his. "I was going to confront you about it. And Mitsuki too. But then... you said you'd made a new friend."

Izuku looked up.

"You were so excited," she continued, smiling. "I was shocked, honestly. Surprised. And... so incredibly relieved."

Izuku swallowed hard. "M-Mom..."

"But," Inko added, her eyes sharpening slightly, "I was also worried. I didn't know this boy. I didn't know if he was just using you or if he actually cared about you."

Izuku eyes widen in shock and alarm.

Sure, Gray was distant, blunt, and occasionally terrifying. But...Izuku knew. He knew.

Gray wasn't like that.

"B-But Kishimi-san would never—!"

"I know that now," Inko reassured him with a smile. "I've seen how happy you've been these past few months, Izuku. And that means he must be a good person."

She tilted her head.

"But... I still want to see him. You've been friends for over half a year now, and I've never met him. Not even once."

Izuku rubbed his arm sheepishly. "W-Well...Kishimi-san isn't exactly the most... sociable guy."

"I figured," she chuckled. "Still, I need to meet the person who's been kind enough to befriend my baby boy."

"M-Mom!" Izuku groaned in embarrassment.

She giggled, then patted his hand gently.

"I just want to see for myself if he's the right person to be in your life."

Izuku sighed, defeated.

Honestly...he probably should've seen this coming.

Lying in bed, Izuku stared at his phone, thumbs hovering over the screen. After everything that happened at dinner, he still couldn't believe his mom wanted to meet Gray.

'Well, I guess it was bound to happen eventually...'

Still, how would Gray feel about this?

He wasn't exactly the most sociable person Izuku had ever met. Actually, scratch that—he was the least sociable person Izuku had ever met.

Would he even want to do this?

With a deep breath, Izuku typed out a message.

[Izuku Midoriya: Hey, Kishimi-san! U-Um, so something happened earlier...]

[Izuku Midoriya: My mom kinda wants to meet you.]

[Izuku Midoriya: I told her about how you've been my friend for a while now, and she got really happy and now she wants to invite you over.]

[Izuku Midoriya: I-It's totally fine if you don't want to, though! I know you're not really, uh... super social. I can tell her you're busy!]

He hit send and stared at his screen anxiously.

One minute passed.

Then another.

Then—

[Gray Kishimi: Understood.]

[Izuku Midoriya: W-Wait, does that mean—?]

Izuku stared at his screen.

Then, blinked.

Then, bolted upright.

"...Wait, he just ACCEPTED?!"

He expected hesitation. Questions. Maybe even an outright 'No.'

But Gray just agreed. Just like that.

Izuku didn't know whether to be excited or terrified. This would be the first time in years that he had invited a real friend over. And Gray was actually saying yes.

A small smile crept onto his face. Recently, Gray had been accepting more of Izuku's invites. Not just for training, but for simply hanging out.

It was subtle. Slow. But...Izuku could tell. Gray was changing.

[Izuku Midoriya: Oh, also... you're coming to our apartment since...]

[Izuku Midoriya: Yeah, I don't think my mom would react well to finding out my first real friend in years is a (technically) billionaire.]

There was a small pause.

Then—

[Gray Kishimi: Understood.

Sincerely, Gray Kishimi. ]

He was slowly changing,  but still...there was one thing that he had to address.

[Izuku Midoriya: Please stop ending your texts with that.]

...

Silence.

Gray's profile went offline.

Izuku narrowed his eyes at the screen.

He wonders whether if he genuinely doesn't know how to text with his friends or is doing this on purpose at this point.

He sighed and flopped onto his pillow.

After another day of school, Izuku stood outside Gray's massive manor, shifting nervously.

"Man... why am I so nervous? It's just Gray meeting Mom. That's all. No big deal. Totally normal."

He fidgeted with the straps of his backpack, glancing at his phone before sighing.

"Why is he taking so long—"

"Are we ready to go?"

"AAHHH!"

Izuku jumped about three feet in the air, spinning around to see Gray standing right behind him, looking completely unfazed.

"K-Kishimi-san?! What is it with you and Ethan sneaking up on people?!"

Gray tilted his head slightly, expression as unreadable as ever.

"Sneaking up on you? I thought I was being perfectly sound."

"...You weren't."

Gray ignored that.

"Anyways," he continued, adjusting his coat, "are we ready to go?"

The sheer casualness of his tone only made Izuku more exasperated.

Ethan appeared at the entrance, ever the perfect butler, bowing slightly.

"Shall I prepare the limousine, Master Gray?"

Izuku paled.

"NOPE! NO LIMOUSINE!" He frantically waved his hands, already picturing his mother fainting on the spot. "Please, for the love of all things, we are not pulling up to my apartment in a limousine."

Gray and Ethan both stared at him.

"...Why?" Gray asked, genuinely confused.

Izuku rubbed his temples.

"K-Kishimi-san... my mom already doesn't know that you're a—" He gestured vaguely. "—billionaire. Can we please not give her a heart attack?"

Gray blinked. "Fair enough."

Ethan hesitated before bowing slightly. "As you wish. Safe travels, Master Midoriya, Master Gray."

And so, the two boys walked.

As they wove through the crowded sidewalks, Izuku couldn't help but notice Gray's odd behavior. The taller boy's eyes squinted slightly, his brows knitting in discomfort. Every now and then, he rubbed at his temple as if something was bothering him.

Izuku tilted his head. "You okay, Kishimi-san?"

Gray exhaled through his nose. "I'm fine. Just...not used to this."

"This?"

Gray gestured vaguely at everything around them. "Being outside. In broad daylight. Among...this many people."

Izuku stared at him. "Wait, seriously?"

Gray nodded, completely matter-of-fact. "I spend the majority of my time in my manor or underground in my base. That's where I do all my work. It's just more...efficient."

Izuku's eye twitched.

"THAT'S NOT NORMAL!" He nearly shouted before clamping his hands over his mouth.

A few pedestrians gave them weird looks as they passed.

Gray blinked slowly. "I wasn't aware there was a 'normal' standard for efficiency."

"...Right." Izuku sighed.

This guy was so painfully out of touch.

Wanting to steer the conversation toward something less ridiculous, Izuku perked up.

"So, um...! Since we're training to be heroes and all, do you have a favorite pro?"

Gray glanced at him. "Why?"

Izuku shrugged. "I dunno, just curious! Figured we should talk about something that isn't just our training."

Gray hummed, considering the question.

He didn't watch hero specials. He didn't follow ranking charts.

But since Izuku seemed so insistent on normal conversation, he gave the first name that made sense.

"I don't really watch any hero programs or follow rankings. But...I suppose All Might is quite effective." Gray shrugged.

Izuku's face suddenly lit up at the mention of All Might.

"OH MY GOD, ALL MIGHT ISN'T JUST 'EFFECTIVE'—HE'S THE SYMBOL OF PEACE! THE STRONGEST! THE UNBREAKABLE WALL OF HERO SOCIETY! HE DOES INCREDIBLE THINGS! HE SINGLE-HANDEDLY DROVE DOWN CRIME RATES TO UNDER 6%! HE HASN'T LOST A SINGLE FIGHT IN HIS CAREER! HIS PRESENCE ALONE SCARES VILLAINS INTO SUBMISSION! HIS SIGNATURE DETROIT SMASH IS A NATIONAL SYMBOL AND—"

Gray was suddenly caught in a trance.

Izuku was rambling.

Rapidly.

With sparkles in his eyes.

Gray blinked.

"...Huh."

Izuku continued, not even realizing what was happening.

"He's the number one hero for a reason! I mean, think about it—have you ever seen him lose?! No! Because he never loses! He's invincible! And that smile—when he says 'I AM HERE!' you just know everything's going to be okay! It's amazing!"

Gray just stared.

He had never seen someone talk this fast in his life.

Or this passionately about anything.

When Izuku caught himself, his entire face turned beet red.

"I—OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY I JUST DID IT AGAIN, DIDN'T I?!"

Gray tilted his head slightly, clearly still caught off guard. "...Yes. Yes, you did...whatever that was."

Izuku frantically waved his hands. "I-I-I wasn't trying to overwhelm you or anything! I-It's just that I kinda get... really excited when it comes to All Might a-and I have a lot of trivia and I—"

"Does that happen...all the time All Might is mentioned...?" Gray questioned.

Izuku frantically waved his hands. "N-No! I mean—YES! I mean—I got carried away, okay? I'm s-sorry!"

Gray blinked. "...You don't have to apologize. I was just caught off guard."

Izuku, still red-faced, groaned and covered his face. Gray, for the first time, experienced something strange. Was this...amusement?

"Hm."

Izuku peered between his fingers. "D-Don't 'hm' me! That was so embarrassing!"

Gray simply kept walking.

Izuku sighed.

But he smiled.

Maybe Gray didn't fully get it, but at least he was trying.

Even if, deep down, Gray had his own thoughts on All Might.

'Even if he was too late to save my mother.'

After the surprisingly peaceful (and slightly chaotic) walk through Musutafu, Izuku and Gray finally arrived at the Midoriya apartment.

Standing in front of the door, Izuku fidgeted slightly.

"Okay...this is it. No big deal. It's just my mom. And my first actual friend. Meeting. In the same room. At the same time." He muttered under his breath,

His stomach twisted. Why was he suddenly nervous?

"Are we going in?" Gray's voice snapped him from his thoughts.

"A-Ah, right! O-Of course! C-C'mon in, Kishimi-san!" Izuku hastily fumbled with his keys before swinging open the door.

Immediately, the smell of home-cooked food greeted them.

And standing by the kitchen, waiting expectantly, was Inko Midoriya.

"Oh my! So, you're Gray Kishimi!" Inko clasped her hands together. "It's so nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you from Izuku!"

Gray blinked slowly. "...Have you?"

Izuku, meanwhile, turned bright red. "M-Mom!"

Inko giggled. "What? You talk about your friend all the time! You're always texting him, always going over to his house—it was about time I met him in person!"

Gray glanced at Izuku. "...You talk about me?"

Izuku buried his face in his hands. "I-I'm never gonna live this down..."

After recovering from his embarrassment, Izuku decided to show Gray around.

The tour was brief—after all, their apartment wasn't anything extravagant. It was modest but cozy. However, Gray inspected his surroundings carefully, as if taking mental notes on every detail.

"...So this is how normal people live."

Izuku stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly, sweat dripping down his face. "D-Did you seriously just say that... out loud?!"

Gray blinked. "Was I not supposed to?"

Izuku groaned. "You—Kishimi-san, do you even hear yourself sometimes?!"

Gray tilted his head. "Yes. And?"

"...Forget it." Izuku sighed in defeat.

As they continued walking, they passed by a door at the end of the hallway.

Gray gestured toward it. "Is that your room?"

Izuku stiffened.

"Uh—NOPE! NO IT'S NOT!" He frantically stepped in front of the door, blocking it.

Gray narrowed his eyes slightly. "...Then what is it?"

Izuku sweat-dropped. "J-Just... a storage closet! Y-Yeah! Nothing to see there!"

Gray, unimpressed, tilted his head toward Inko. The mother, smirking playfully, took the chance to tease her son. "Oh, but Izuku, you've been so excited to have a friend over! Why not let him see your room?"

Izuku froze in horror.

"M-MOM NO—"

But it was too late.

Inko opened the door.

Gray stepped inside.

And then stopped.

Izuku stood mortified as Gray took in everything.

Posters. Action figures. Keychains. Limited edition memorabilia.

An entire glass case dedicated solely to All Might collectibles.

A pair of All Might-themed pajamas folded neatly on the bed.

And, of course, the gigantic All Might poster hanging above the bed.

Gray slowly turned to Izuku. "...You weren't lying when you said you were a massive All Might fan."

Izuku wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"I-I CAN EXPLAIN—"

Gray, still taking in the sheer All Might obsession, only blinked.

"...Huh."

Izuku just died inside.

Inko stifled in her laughs.

After the brief but eventful tour, Inko smiled warmly at Gray. "Well, now that you've seen the place, why don't you stay for dinner?" she offered, clasping her hands together.

Gray stiffened slightly. "Ah... That won't be necessary. I wouldn't want to impose."

"Oh, nonsense!" Inko waved off his attempt to decline, her warm, bright kindness too overwhelming for Gray to counter. "It's no trouble at all! Besides, I'd love to get to know the friend who's been spending so much time with my son."

Gray hesitated.

Something about her warmth, her gentle persistence—it was all too familiar.

Before he even realized it, his lips moved on their own.

"...Alright."

Izuku blinked in mild shock. Did...did Gray just agree? That easily?

And so, Gray Kishimi, the socially inept billionaire genius, found himself sitting at a modest dinner table in a small apartment, about to share a home-cooked meal.

The meal was simple but delicious—a homey warmth in every bite.

As they ate, Inko began her gentle questioning.

"So, how long have you two been friends?" she asked, looking between them.

Izuku swallowed his bite of rice before answering. "A-About...half a year now?"

Gray nodded in confirmation. "Approximately six months, two weeks, and four days."

Izuku choked on his food.

"E-Eh? Y-You counted?!"

Gray blinked. "Is that not normal?"

Inko giggled. "That's quite precise, Kishimi-san."

Gray tilted his head. He didn't understand what was amusing about it, but he let it go.

"So, where do you go to school, Gray-kun?"

"I am homeschooled," Gray answered easily. "I was raised and educated privately."

Inko hummed in understanding. "Oh, that makes sense. And how did you two meet?"

Both Izuku and Gray paused.

Crap.

Technically speaking, they couldn't exactly say:
"Oh, you know, just training at a private dojo where Izuku is secretly preparing to inherit a quirk from the No.1 Hero and I already figured it out."

So instead—

"We met while I was strolling along Takoba Beach." Gray stated plainly.

Izuku immediately nodded along. "Y-Yeah! T-That's right! I was training there—uh, I mean, exercising! And, uh, we just kinda started talking!"

Inko smiled, seemingly satisfied. "I see! I'm so glad Izuku finally has a friend to train with."

Both boys internally sighed in relief.

That was close.

The dinner went on smoothly.

For a while, the conversation was light and comfortable. Then—something unexpected.

Gray, out of nowhere, attempted to match the lighthearted tone of the room. So, with the straightest, most deadpan expression imaginable, he uttered:

"...Yes. And then I killed the bear with my bare hands."

Silence.

A long, painful pause.

Izuku and Inko both stared at him.

Gray, completely serious, tilted his head. "Did it work?"

Izuku burst into laughter. He couldn't believe it! His cold and serious friend, Gray Kishimi, THE Gray Kishimi actually tried an attempt at humor!

It was so ridiculous, so out-of-nowhere, that he couldn't hold it in. His loud, uncontrollable laughter infected Inko, who covered her mouth, shoulders shaking.

Gray, still expressionless, observed them with mild curiosity.

"Interesting," he muttered. "Ethan informed me that humor is an effective bonding method between friends."

Izuku, still laughing, wiped a tear from his eye. "I-It is, Kishimi-san! B-But you can't just—say it like that! You need to—at least try to sound like you're joking!"

Gray blinked. "So...it was not successful?"

"PFFFT—!" Izuku wheezed.

Inko smiled warmly. "It was very successful, Kishimi-san. Just...not in the way you intended."

After the laughter died down, Inko wiped a happy tear from her eye and smiled at Gray. "Oh, Kishimi-san, you're quite interesting!" She chuckled. "So, who is this Ethan person you mentioned earlier?"

Gray visibly tensed for just a moment.

Izuku felt it too.

Crap. They did not prepare for this question. Gray knew that revealing Ethan was a robot butler would raise too many questions. And talking about his parents? Absolutely not.

So, he did what any quick-thinking person would do.

He came up with a convincing lie on the spot. With the utmost seriousness, he said, “Ethan is my father. He works as a restaurant waiter. My mother, Maria, is a social worker.”

Izuku relaxed.

Inko, genuinely touched, smiled warmly. “Oh, how wonderful! They must be very proud of you.”

Gray merely nodded, his face unreadable. “Perhaps.”

Izuku, watching his friend carefully, knew.

That was only half a lie. For as long as Izuku's been at Gray's manor, he could tell. Because while Ethan wasn’t his biological father, he had been the closest thing to one ever since Gray lost his parents.

And deep down, Gray probably knew it too.

But he would never admit that.

As dinner went on, Inko quietly observed Gray. He was exactly the type of person Izuku had described: always serious, stupidly awkward, blunt to a fault, and incredibly socially inept. Yet, she could sense there was more to him than that.

She had noticed the brief flicker of emotion in his eyes—sadness, anger—when his parents were mentioned. His answer had been a lie, and she knew it. But she also recognized that the topic was a sensitive one. She wouldn't push. Not yet, at least.

There was, however, one more question she needed to ask. Alone.

She turned to Izuku. “Sweetie, don’t forget you still have homework to finish.”

Izuku groaned but relented, leaving the table. Soon, it was just Inko and Gray.

Gray, ever perceptive, wasted no time. “So, why do you want to talk to me alone?”

Inko blinked, momentarily thrown off. His bluntness was startling. “Wow. You really are as perceptive as Izuku said,” she murmured before composing herself. Then she asked the question that had been weighing on her mind.

“Kishimi-san, why did you befriend my son?”

It might have been paranoid of her, and maybe even a little unfair, but after what had happened between Izuku and Katsuki, she couldn’t help but be cautious.

Gray blinked, caught off-guard by the question. He hadn’t truly considered why he had befriended Izuku. Initially, it had been because he wanted to secretly help him train for One For All, making sure he didn’t recklessly throw himself into danger without understanding the weight of what he had taken on. But there was more to it than that. It just…happened.

He had met Izuku because Ethan had practically forced him out of the manor, insisting that he couldn’t spend his entire life shut away from the world. Begrudgingly, he had obeyed. And one thing had led to another until he found himself watching Izuku train with All Might at Takoba Beach.

Gray couldn't help but wonder—what would have happened if he had never left the manor? If he had never met Izuku? Would he have changed? Would he have learned to be comfortable with others? No.

He would still be the cold, angry child who drowned himself in training and academia to avoid the pain of losing his mother.

He would never have gained his first friend.

Would he want that...?

No. Not really.

“Because…I want to,” Gray finally answered.

It was the best answer he could give.

Inko studied him for a moment before smiling, sensing the genuine tone from Gray. 

"I see." She now knew that he was a good friend for her son.

Inko's warm smile never wavered as she gently placed a hand on the table. “You know, Kishimi-san, I just wanted to say… thank you. Thank you for being Izuku’s friend.”

Gray blinked. It was such a simple statement, yet it caught him off guard. He wasn’t usually used to being thanked. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond. Then, he remembered what Izuku had told him once about what to say when someone expresses gratitude.

“Uhm…you’re welcome,” he said, though it came out more like a hesitant question than a statement.

Inko chuckled softly, amused by his awkwardness. Her laughter wasn’t mocking—it was fond, like a mother watching someone precious learn something new. “You really are just as modest as Izuku,” she mused, shaking her head with a smile.

Gray tilted his head slightly, unsure of what to make of that. Modest? Him? He never thought of himself that way.

Then, Inko’s expression shifted, her warmth still present but tinged with something else—something sad.

“I know Izuku doesn’t talk about it much, but…I know his school isn’t kind to him,” she said quietly.

Gray’s eyes narrowed slightly. That caught his attention.

“His school?” he repeated, his voice even.

Inko sighed, glancing toward the hallway where Izuku had gone. “He doesn’t want me to worry, so he keeps a lot to himself. But I’m his mother. I can tell.” She smiled sadly. “The way he comes home tired, the way his uniform sometimes looks a little too wrinkled and even a couple of scorch marks here and there, the times he insists he just ‘tripped’ when I see faint bruises on his arms. And the way he always tries to make excuses for people who don’t deserve them…”

Gray said nothing. His expression remained unreadable, but inside, something stirred. He already had plans for Aldera Junior High. However, hearing this directly from Inko—the way she spoke with such quiet pain—made him all the more certain.

“I see,” he finally murmured, his tone unreadable.

Inko didn’t notice the shift in his demeanor. She just shook her head with a small, resigned sigh. “I’ve told him so many times that he doesn’t have to force himself to bear everything alone. That he doesn’t have to keep proving himself to people who only want to tear him down. But…he’s stubborn.” Her lips curled into a bittersweet smile. “He’s always been that way.”

Gray didn’t respond immediately. He thought about Izuku—the reckless, hopeful boy who never gave up on people, who would and have managed to befriend someone like him. And from the sounds of it, Izuku was the type of boy who had a heart far too big for a world that didn’t deserve it if he would go so far to defend those who hurt him.

Izuku was his first ever real friend.

Gray tightened his fingers slightly against the table.

No, Aldera didn’t deserve Izuku.

And soon, they would learn exactly why.

By the time Izuku returned, having triumphantly finished his homework, he was more than ready to continue their so-called "hangout."

The problem? Izuku had never actually had a friend over before. It's been years since he had.

So, naturally, he tried to approach it the way he assumed other people did.

“Uh—so!” Izuku clapped his hands together, glancing around the living room as if inspiration would suddenly strike. “What do you wanna do? I mean—uh, I’ve never really done this before, but people usually, um, play games or talk about, uh, stuff?”

Gray blinked. “Stuff?”

“Yeah! You know, like...hobbies, school, favorite pro heroes…” Izuku trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Or we could play a game?”

Gray, equally inexperienced in these matters, simply nodded. “Alright.”

Thus began what could only be described as two socially inept teenagers trying (and failing) to interact like normal human beings.

Inko, watching from the kitchen, had to suppress a laugh as she witnessed their attempts at bonding. 'Wow. These two are hopeless,' she thought in amusement.

At one point, they ended up playing chess, a game Izuku figured would be fun since it was all about strategy.

It took less than three minutes for Gray to completely annihilate him.

Izuku stared at the board in horror, blinking at his now-empty side. “Wh—how?! I didn’t even see that coming!”

Gray, completely unfazed, simply moved his last piece into checkmate and looked at him. “Your plays were too predictable.”

Izuku groaned, slumping forward. “Okay. Yeah. No. I’m done. You’re banned from chess forever.” He shoved the board aside with a defeated sigh. “Wanna just watch TV or something?”

That actually piqued Gray’s interest. “TV?”

Izuku tilted his head. “Wait, have you never watched TV before?”

Gray simply shook his head. “I was never allowed to.”

That was t he half-truth since it was the case during his time at Erebus Institute. But even after he was freed from that place, he chose not to indulge in any of those things since he doesn't know anything about pop-culture or entertainment. And from what he's known, Ethan was in the same boat as him.

Izuku blinked. “Oh.”

That was…sad.

“…Okay, new plan! We’re gonna fix that.” Izuku grabbed the remote with renewed determination. “Time for your first social entertainment experience!”

Izuku scrolled through the options before settling on a movie instead. He wanted something that Gray could not only enjoy but also relate to in some way. After a moment of thought, he smirked and clicked on an old pre-quirk film.

Iron Man (2008).

If there was any movie perfect for a genius, combat-trained, quirkless individual, it was this one.

As the movie played, Gray sat there, utterly focused, as if analyzing a tactical briefing. His eyes tracked every movement, every detail—how Tony Stark built his first suit in a cave, how he refined it, how he used his intelligence and resources to overcome obstacles.

Izuku watched in amusement, knowing exactly what was going through Gray's mind. Yup. This was gonna be fun.

By the time the credits rolled, it was already nighttime. But Gray barely seemed to notice. His mind was racing. This was his first movie—his first real experience with entertainment for the sake of entertainment. But beyond that, Iron Man had given him ideas. Ideas about technology, about hero battle suits, about what a determined mind could accomplish even without a quirk.

Izuku stretched with a yawn. “Man, that movie’s still great. I don’t care if it’s old, it’s a classic.”

Gray said nothing, still processing. Eventually, he looked at Izuku. “That was certainly…informative.”

Izuku chuckled. “Dude, it’s just a movie.”

Gray turned back to the screen, eyes lingering on the rolling credits. “Perhaps.”

Eventually, though, it was time to go.

Gray stood up, giving a small nod. “Thank you for having me.” His voice was polite, but a bit stiff—like someone unused to saying those words.

Izuku grinned. “Of course! We should do this again sometime.”

Gray gave a small hum in response, but before he turned to leave, he hesitated. There was something he needed to say.

He glanced toward the kitchen, where Inko had been quietly watching over them throughout the evening. Gray had seen the way she looked at Izuku—the concern, the silent worry behind her warm smiles. It was clear she cared deeply for her son, more than he even seemed to realize. And it was just as clear that Izuku, in his insistence that he was "fine," didn't understand how much his mother carried that weight.

Gray knew that weight. He knew what it was like to have someone who loved you worry for you.

And he knew what it was like to lose that.

So, before he left, he turned to Izuku with a rare, solemn expression.

“Midoriya,” he said quietly, “your mother is a kind woman. Cherish her.”

Izuku blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”

Gray’s gaze held something deep—something unreadable, yet heavy with meaning. It was the look of someone who had learned that lesson the hard way.

Izuku didn't know what to say, so he just nodded. “…Yeah. I will.”

Inko, watching the exchange, offered kindly, “It’s late, Kishimi-san. Are you sure you don’t want me to call a taxi for you?”

Gray shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I can take care of myself.”

And with that, Gray turned and walked off into the night.

Their first-ever hangout had come to an end. But it certainly wouldn’t be their last.

Next day in the morning, the rhythmic sound of fists striking leather echoed through Raven Dojo. Gray Kishimi stood alone, his body a blur of controlled, precise movement as he delivered relentless blows to the punching bag. Sweat glistened on his skin, but his focus remained unwavering.

Yet, beneath his disciplined exterior, his mind was anything but calm.

Thoughts swirled in his head, colliding and overlapping as he tried to make sense of everything.

Spending time at a friend’s house—it had been a new, strange experience for him. Enjoyable, yes, but also…unfamiliar. It was something that normal people did, and for all his intelligence, Gray had no experience with “normal.” Still, he supposed it wasn’t bad.

But that wasn’t what truly occupied his thoughts.

Aldera.

Izuku.

And most importantly—One For All.

His research had led him to frustratingly little progress. The quirk was an enigma, a mystery shrouded in secrecy. But Gray wasn’t one to give up easily. He needed to understand it. Had to.

How was it created?
Why was it created?
And, most crucially—who created it?

Every lead he chased turned to dust. Every record he searched came up empty. It was as if One For All had simply appeared without origin. That, in itself, was telling. Someone had erased its history—deliberately.

But then, he found something.

A single clue.

In old footage from All Might’s early career, Gray noticed something peculiar—he was often accompanied by another hero. A woman. After further investigation, he discovered her identity: The Floating Hero, Shimura.

Real name—Nana Shimura.

At first, it seemed insignificant. But the more he examined, the more anomalies he found.

Shimura’s quirk, Float, allowed her to fly. Yet in various battle recordings, she exhibited feats of strength far beyond what her quirk should have allowed. Her blows were too powerful, her resilience too high. And if there was one thing Gray excelled at, it was recognizing when something didn’t add up.

His conclusion?

Shimura was All Might’s predecessor.

She must have possessed One For All before passing it to him.

But then came the real mystery.

Nana Shimura was dead. Killed by a villain.

Yet, the details were nonexistent. There was no official record of her death, no mention of how or why she was killed. Even more bizarre—the villain responsible was never named.

That wasn’t normal. Heroes died in battle. Villains who killed them were known. Their names were etched into records as the ones who took down heroes.

So why was hers missing?

Who killed her?
Why was she targeted?
And why was the villain’s identity erased from the records?

Gray didn’t have the answers. But this…this was a lead.

If he could find out who killed Nana Shimura, he might uncover the origins of One For All. Perhaps the killer was its creator. Or maybe they had nothing to do with its creation and simply overpowered her. Either way, Gray needed to know.

But for now, he shifted his focus to another question—one just as vital.

What happens when One For All is transferred?

How does a quirkless body react to suddenly manifesting a quirk? What were the biological implications? Could the human body even withstand such a drastic change without consequences?

And then there was the matter of secrecy.

Quirks typically manifested in childhood. Late bloomers existed, sure, but someone gaining a quirk nearly fifteen years into their life? That was practically unheard of. How would that be covered up?

The sheer weight of these questions pressed down on him, tightening in his mind like a vice.

Frustration burned in his chest.

With a sharp exhale, Gray shifted his stance and spun.

His leg snapped out in a backward roundhouse kick—blindingly fast, brutally precise. The impact struck the punching bag like a sledgehammer.

CRACK!

The chain snapped.

The bag launched across the dojo like a cannonball, slamming into the wall with a deafening thud.

Gray exhaled, watching the bag fall to the ground. His heart pounded, his breath steadying.

He clenched his fists.

I’ll find the truth.

No matter what it took.

"Wow."

Turning toward the dojo entrance, he spotted a girl standing just inside, dressed casually. Her long orange hair was tied into a high ponytail on the left side of her head, and her expression radiated genuine curiosity. She seemed impressed by what she had just witnessed.

Gray's eyes narrowed slightly. "The dojo is closed for today," he stated firmly.

The girl raised a brow but maintained her polite smile. "And yet, you're here," she pointed out, tilting her head. "Or are you the sensei? You look like you're around my age." Her tone was lighthearted, but there was a note of genuine intrigue beneath it.

Gray didn’t hesitate. "I own this place." He said it casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Owning the dojo gave him full control over when he could train—especially when he and Izuku needed the space. The 400,000 yen he spent to buy it might’ve been a fortune for most, but to him, it was pocket change.

"Wait, what?!" she exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief. "You actually own this place?! Not your parents, you?!"

"...Yes?" Gray replied, with the audacity to sound confused by her reaction.

The girl exhaled, shaking her head. "I'm just gonna... move past that for now," she muttered, deciding it was best not to dwell on that bombshell. "But if the place is closed, then what are you doing here?"

"I'm...practicing." Gray replied, though his answer came out slower than expected.

Her eyes flicked toward the damaged punching bag still lying on the floor, then back to him. "Yeah, I kinda figured that part," she remarked with mild amusement.

There was a brief pause before Gray finally asked, "And you? Why are you here?"

"Oh, right!" The girl perked up. "I was taking a walk when I noticed this dojo and got curious. I practice martial arts myself, so I wanted to check it out." She glanced toward the entrance. "There wasn’t a closed sign on the window, so I figured it was open. And then I saw you training, so..."

Gray hummed in understanding. He must have forgotten to put up the sign after entering. That was his mistake.

But what caught his interest more was the fact that she practiced martial arts.

A fellow fighter.

Despite his composed exterior, he found himself slightly nervous. He wasn’t used to casual conversations—especially not with complete strangers. When he tried to keep the conversation going, his words came out stiff, overly formal, and painfully monotone.

"...You fight?"

The girl blinked, taken aback by the way he said it—monotone, serious, almost like an interrogation. Then she grinned, clearly amused. "Yeah, I do."

The topic then shifted to his kick from earlier. "That was an insane hit," she complimented, getting the impression that the boy in front of her wasn’t exactly the social type. "You must've used your quirk, right? No way a normal kick sent that thing flying like that."

Gray hesitated. He hadn’t used a quirk—because he didn’t have one. That had been pure strength and technique. Compliments were already unfamiliar territory for him, and being mistaken for having a quirk made it even more complicated. Unsure how to respond, he settled for a simple, awkward, "Uh...thanks."

The girl chuckled. It was obvious now—this guy wasn’t used to social interaction. But rather than make it harder for him, she made an effort to keep the atmosphere light, offering an easygoing presence.

After a few more exchanged words, she suddenly realized something.

"Wait, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet!" she said, smiling.

"Right." Gray gave a small nod and spoke first. "I'm Gray Kishimi."

The girl grinned. "I'm Itsuka Kendo. Nice to meet you!"

Chapter Text

Even though the dojo was officially closed, Itsuka Kendo stood with her hands on her hips, ponytail bouncing slightly as she bowed at Gray.

"So...even though it's closed, would you mind if I trained here for a bit?" she asked, her tone light but genuine. "Preferably with someone. It's not every day I meet someone my age who actually knows how to fight."

Gray hesitated. He normally didn't do this. In fact, Izuku had told him not to do things like this.

Flashback

The two boys were walking down the street, a vendor having just given them some free snacks.

The vendor smiled. "It's on the house! You kids have a great day!"

As the two walked off, Gray narrowed his eyes. "That man was suspicious. Generosity without an ulterior motive is statistically unlikely. I will be observing him."

Izuku nearly choked on his food. "K-Kishimi-san! H-He just gave us free mochi!!" he exclaimed, waving his arms. "N-Not everyone has a hidden agenda! Stop giving people interrogation-level glares in public!"

Gray blinked. "So you're saying suspicion is not the default?"

Izuku facepalmed.

End Flashback

He sighed softly.

"...Very well. I'll make an exception. Just this once."

Itsuka blinked, surprised. "Oh. Alright! I'll take it." Her grin widened. "But don't go easy on me."

She would soon regret these words.

They each headed to the locker rooms, and after a few minutes, they returned dressed in their respective gi—Gray's a sleek black-and-purple variation, and Kendo's a more traditional white-and-orange outfit.

They bowed respectfully, feet sliding into their stances. Gray's posture was low, sharp, and unreadable. Kendo's was looser, spring-loaded with focus and confidence.

Then—Gray moved.

Like a machine given purpose, he advanced, closing the distance in mere seconds with a precision jab to Kendo's chest, which she barely managed to block. The shock of it pushed her back a step.

'Wow. He's fast.'

She immediately retaliated with a sweeping low kick, but Gray flipped over it with graceful ease, landing behind her with a spin that nearly caught her with an elbow—had she not ducked just in time.

'Okay. He's really fast...!'

She was good. She knew she was good. She had a regional martial arts trophy and everything. But Gray fought like someone who'd been taught not just to win—but to overwhelm. His style was unlike anything Kendo had ever faced. It wasn't flashy or showy, but it was tight, fluid, economical. A hybrid of Krav Maga, Systema, and elements of acrobatic Taekwondo. He wasn't just attacking—he was reading, adapting, controlling the space between them.

Kendo blocked and dodged where she could, but every exchange drained her more.

She finally leapt back, sucking in a breath. "Okay...no choice."

Kendo activated her quirk—Big Fist—her right hand ballooning to several times its normal size. With a wide but slow swing, she forced Gray to leap back several meters and give her breathing room.

Gray stopped mid-strike, unfazed but assessing.

"You..." Kendo panted, shrinking her hand back down as she caught her breath. "...don't hold back, do you?"

Gray blinked. He tilted his head slightly, thinking.

"...I did," he said honestly. "I think."

Itsuka choked.

"You think?!"

She stumbled backward a bit, hands on her hips. "What would you consider not holding back? Mortal Kombat fatalities?!"

Gray tilted his head slightly, confused. "I didn't go for any vital points."

"...I was joking."

"...So was I."

"No, you weren't."

A short silence.

Then Kendo broke into a laugh, brushing a few loose strands of her ponytail back behind her ear.

"Man, you're something else," she said, smiling. "You're like a boss fight with zero dialogue and a fifty-move combo."

Gray blinked. "Is that...good?"

Kendo just grinned. "It's a compliment, Kishimi-kun."

"Oh." He paused. "Then...you're welcome?"

"Don't you mean thank you?"

Gray's brow furrowed. "Right. That."

Kendo chuckled at that. She grinned again, catching her breath. “But, man, you're really quick. You fight like you’re prepping for a war or something.”

“I was trained that way,” Gray said bluntly.

Her smile faltered.

There was something about the way he said it—calm, flat, as if it were just another fact about him. But it was more than that. The way he moved, the way he calculated—he didn't just practice fighting.

He lived it.

"I—Huh?" she blinked, unsure she heard him right.

Gray caught her expression and quickly shook his head, the slight flicker of tension in his shoulders giving him away. "Nothing," he said curtly, brushing it off as if it were a slip of the tongue. "Anyways, you're not that bad of a fighter yourself." He said, quickly changing the subject.

"..." Itsuka blinked, unsure. She didn't press. Something told her that whatever was behind those words, he wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet.

So, she smiled again—lighter this time, more casual. "Well, you're not bad either. A bit intense...but still impressive. You've got this way of moving that's just—efficient."

Gray tilted his head. "Efficient is good."

"Efficient is scary," she said with a playful grin. "But thanks."

Gray nodded. "You also have an interesting quirk," he added, gesturing to her arm. "The size-to-strength ratio of your quirk is well-optimized. You can build pressure behind your strikes while keeping your core anchored."

"...Did you just break down my quirk like an engineering schematic?"

"Yes."

Itsuka stared at him for a second before bursting into another round of laughter. "You're unbelievable."

Gray blinked. "Is that...another compliment?"

"Yup."

"...You're welcome."

Kendo just laughed harder.

For a moment, the dojo felt lighter. Gray sat still beside her, his posture straight as ever, but there was a subtle difference in the way his shoulders weren't quite so tense.

He didn't know what to call it yet, but it felt like something was shifting.

Connection.

A second one.

First Midoriya. Now...maybe Kendo.

And speaking of Midoriya...there was something that he needed to do. But for now, that could wait.

After a few more rounds of sparring, the sun had dipped low enough to bathe the dojo in hues of fading orange and soft purple. The sounds of their sparring were replaced by the gentle creaks of the wooden floor and the distant hum of cicadas outside.

Eventually, they both agreed to call it a day.

Gray methodically tidied the equipment while Kendo stretched out her limbs, brushing back a few strands of her orange hair that had come loose from her ponytail. The sweat on her brow glistened slightly, but she didn't just look tired—also satisfied.

"Well," Kendo said brightly, slipping her shoes back on near the entrance, "that was definitely the most intense session I've had in a while. I didn't expect to meet someone like you when I walked in today, but I'm glad I did."

Gray turned to face her, towel draped over his shoulder, and paused as her words settled in the air.

"I'll be coming back here more often now," she added with a smile, throwing a playful wink his way. "You've got yourself a new sparring partner, Mr. Owner!"

'I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you actually own this place, though.' She thought.

Gray blinked slowly. He could feel that usual instinct in his brain—dissect, analyze, distance.

But then...he simply nodded.

"Hm," he replied firmly.

Not much, but it was his version of a genuine reply.

Kendo chuckled. "Still need to work on that social part, huh?"

Gray tilted his head slightly, unsure whether to be confused or amused. "Don't worry. I've got the patience of a saint," she teased as she stepped outside. "See you next time, Kishimi-kun."

He watched her go, her figure disappearing down the path as twilight fully blanketed the city. The stars were beginning to peek through the night sky above, scattered faintly like reminders of how vast the world beyond the dojo was.

Gray stood in the doorway a moment longer.

'Have I just...made another friend?' He wondered.

The next day, Gray unlocked the doors to the Raven Dojo, expecting the usual quiet solitude of his training time. But as he stepped inside, there she was again.

Kendo stood near the center mat, already stretching and grinning brightly when she saw him.

"Kishimi-kun! You're late," she said, lightly teasing him.

Gray blinked. "I wasn't aware we scheduled a time."

She shrugged. "Well, I got here first, so I win."

Gray narrowed his eyes slightly in mock consideration. "I don't recall this being a competition."

"That's what makes it fun." Kendo said brightly, earning the tiniest flicker of confusion from Gray as he stepped further in.

After a brief warm-up, the two slipped into sparring stances. This time, Gray made an effort to hold back just a little—not because he had learned moderation, but because he didn't want to be scolded again by Izuku for knocking people across the room by accident.

They moved in unison—Kendo with fluid strikes and strong footwork, Gray with impossibly precise counters and the unique flexibility of someone who had built his own fighting style from scratch. He flipped away from a sweeping punch and landed lightly, adjusting his footing before tapping his temple.

"Your stance left your left rib exposed," he said, like he was giving a performance review.

Kendo dropped her arms. "Kishimi-kun, we're not in a classroom. You're not grading me."

Gray paused. "Should I be?"

Kendo snorted. "I can't tell if you're joking or not."

"I am...not." He said flatly.

After they went on to finish another round of sparring, Kendo was stretched her arms with a relaxed sigh. "You've really put work into this place," she said, looking around the dojo walls. "You sure it's yours?"

Gray nodded matter-of-factly. "Yes. It's under the name Kishimi Enterprises. I own the entire building. As well as several others."

"...Wait, Kishimi...Enterprises?" Her eyebrows raised as the realization hit her. "Hold on—that's your company?! That multi-national tech conglomerate?"

'I thought his name sounded familiar!' She exclaimed internally.

Gray blinked. "Yes. Have I not told you? I'm a trillionaire."

Itsuka froze, still halfway through a stretch. "I—I'm sorry, what?!"

"I made a mistake the first time," Gray explained in all seriousness. "I previously told someone I was a billionaire. That was incorrect."

Itsuka sat there, slack-jawed. "...I think I need a minute."

Gray tilted his head slightly. "Do you need medical assistance?"

"Y-You seriously don't think that's a big deal?!"

Gray blinked again. "Is it not?"

"OF COURSE, IT IS!" She exclaimed. "Y-You're a billionaire! A rich kid!" Itsuka pointed at him in comical exaggeration.

Gray paused. "A trillionaire." He corrected as if that it were something as simple as correcting a wrong answer in a math equation.

Itsuka made a high-pitched noise that might have been a laugh or a choking sound. "Y-You apologize...for understating your net worth?"

Gray nodded solemnly. "Accuracy matters."

Itsuka slumped back on her palms, staring at the ceiling as if to seek divine clarification. "Of course it does."

There was a beat of silence before Gray added, almost awkwardly, "Does this revelation make you uncomfortable? I can assure you, my wealth does not impact my training methods."

Itsuka laughed, waving a hand. "No, no, it's not that. I just...this is all too much for me to take in all at one time." She took a breath. "I didn't expect to be friends with a trillionaire when I entered this place."

Gray paused at her words, his eyes widening slightly. "Wait, we're...friends? You consider us friends?" He asked in a genuine tone, his head tilting slightly.

Itsuka widened her eyes. Despite after being revealed that Gray is a goddamn rich, he did not behave how she expect a typical rich kid to act. He stood so straight, so formal, so...awkward. Even now. She had expected someone cocky. Entitled. Maybe even bratty.

But this guy? This guy had zero social skills, never knew how to respond to a simple "thank you," and still treated small talk like a martial arts technique he hadn't mastered yet.

She smiled to herself.

He was so...endearingly hopeless.

"Of course we're friends!" Itsuka said brightly with a warm smile on her face.

Gray stared for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then he gave a small nod.

"...Hm."

As the dojo lights dimmed and Itsuka waved him goodbye—after, of course, exchanging contact information, which Gray awkwardly fumbled with before finally getting it right—he returned to his manor.

Back in the underground base, the flickering light from a dozen monitors illuminated Gray's sharp eyes.

On his desk lay a meticulously copied replica of Izuku Midoriya's hero analysis notebook that he secretly managed to make...somehow. He had scanned, reprinted, and reorganized every entry—not to steal the data, but to study how another quirkless boy viewed the world of quirks.

Midoriya's analysis was, frankly, impressive. The boy's understanding of quirk mechanics, power outputs, strategic behaviors, and hero tendencies bordered on professional. Every page reflected admiration—a fan's devotion.

But that's where it stopped.

Admiration. Whereas Gray saw opportunity.

He wasn't here to idolize them.

He was here to prepare.

Gray turned from the notebook to his workstation, where dozens of models and data profiles hovered in midair. He had already taken Midoriya's insights and converted them into interactive simulations, inputting hero profiles into the AR training software. Fully realized digital versions of Pro Heroes—built with as much accuracy as available data allowed. Weaknesses, attack patterns, tactical blind spots—all inputted and ready.

He activated a scenario.

A holographic version of Kamui Woods materialized in the center of the room. Gray analyzed the construct, arms folded.

"Binding attacks, wide-area control. Mid-range capture. Relies on linear movement." He brought up a secondary window and began typing. "Suggested countermeasures: smoke interference, joint disruption, kinetic redirection, fire."

He nodded to himself, then switched to the next file.

Ryukyu.

Then Mount Lady. Edgeshot. Gang Orca. Endeavor. Best Jeanist.

Each hero appeared for a moment—posed and powerful—before being dissected, analyzed, and logged into his ever-growing archive of contingency profiles.

This wasn't just about being prepared for villains. It was about being prepared for everyone.

Gray wasn't paranoid(okay, maybe a little)—he was pragmatic. Heroes could be compromised. Allies could be turned. Or worse...corrupted by the system meant to uphold them.

While Izuku wrote about strengths, Gray wrote about counters.

He paused for a moment, looking at the flickering simulation of All Might—rendered from footage, eyewitness descriptions, and every statistic he could scrape.

Gray stared at the golden giant. The Symbol of Peace.

And the future that Midoriya had chosen to run headfirst into. He reached for his keyboard and typed one word into the All Might file: "Observe."

Gray wasn't sure why he kept coming back to this file. Perhaps because he knew what Midoriya was about to inherit. Perhaps because...a part of him still didn't trust it.

One For All.

Too little information. Too many unknowns. And the more he dug, the more holes he found. Shimura Nana. Her mysterious death. The sealed records. The missing villain identity.

He couldn't shake it.

There was more to this story. And he was determined to figure it out.

But for now, there was too little information to go, so turned his attention to something more immediate—and no less daunting.

The Symbol of Peace.

The holographic projection of All Might rotated slowly at the center of his underground chamber, rendered in pristine fidelity. The towering figure stood tall and shining, fists clenched, eyes gleaming with heroic conviction and baring that all too familiar smile. Now, he needed to figure out how to defeat the Symbol Of Peace. It might've been an impossible task for many, but to him, he already had many ideas. Especially knowing about his other skeleton form.

But as he looked at the holographic image of the Symbol Of Peace, Gray's eyes darken as his mind was suddenly taken elsewhere. A defining, painful memory.

I'm sorry, Young Kishimi...I wasn't here.

Suddenly, Gray felt like he was nine years old again, crying in that alley where his mother died. He remembered the regretful and pained words that All Might had told him back then.

He took a shaky breath and shook his head, snapping himself out of it. He'll deal with All Might later.

His eyes shifted to a different screen—one far more personal.

Aldera Junior High.

Izuku could lie about it all he wanted. Say the school was fine. That things were okay. That his classmates were just a little rowdy.

But Gray wasn't buying it.

And from the talk he had with Inko Midoriya that night...neither was she.

She had known all along.

Gray had seen the subtle signs from day one. The scorch marks that appeared on Midoriya's arms and back during sparring sessions. The way his breath would catch at the sound of sudden pops or explosions. The haunted, almost sad look he carried when Gray had once casually asked if anyone supported his dream before they met.

Gray had let it slide...until now.

He'd tried to respect Izuku's silence. Tried to allow his friend to come forward when he was ready. But weeks turned into months, and Izuku continued to defend the indefensible. It came to the point where Gray had enough.

Izuku's refusal to do anything? Understandable. He had no power there. And Inko? She was a kind woman—but powerless in the eyes of a system that failed her son.

But Gray...?

He had resources.

He had reach.

He had time.

He brought up Aldera's staff roster. Disciplinary records. Surveillance data. Gray had access to more systems than anyone suspected. Being the heir of Kishimi Enterprises came with its privileges.

Gray leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as he began drafting the first stages of what would become a complete takedown of Aldera Junior High.

Because even if Midoriya wouldn't fight for himself...

Gray would do it for him.

A week passed.

What started as a one-time exception had become a quiet routine—Gray and Itsuka sparring at the dojo every other afternoon. Gray had quickly come to appreciate her discipline and sharp technique. While she couldn't match him in raw efficiency, she was improving at a pace that he quietly respected. And, more importantly...he was starting to feel comfortable around her.

Not that he'd ever say that out loud.

This time, like most others, their match ended with Gray standing victorious, having swept Kendo to the mat with a precise throw. She groaned dramatically as she sat up, wiping sweat from her brow, grinning all the while.

"Alright, alright," she said, laughing a little in good sport. "You win. Again. I'm starting to think you really don't know how to pull your punches."

Gray tilted his head. "I only made sure to use the strength required."

"Seriously?" she asked, mock-offended. "That was you holding back?"

"I believe so," he said with complete sincerity.

Kendo groaned in defeat, flopping back onto the mat. "Unbelievable..."

Gray sat down cross-legged nearby, beginning his usual post-session reflection in silence. But this time, Itsuka sat up again and broke the quiet with a casual question.

"You know..." she began, "I always see you training here. Alone, mostly. I gotta ask—do you ever do anything else in your free time?"

Gray blinked. "Like what?"

"I don't know, hang out? Go out with friends? I mean, you're about my age, right? Don't you have any people you talk to outside of this?"

Gray paused.

For a second, there was no answer. His gaze dropped slightly. Not in shame, just...thought.

He finally said, "...There's Midoriya."

Kendo smiled, recognizing the name. "The green-haired kid you mentioned once? You train with him, too, right?"

Gray nodded. "Yes. He's...talkative."

Itsuka chuckled. "That's not a bad thing, you know."

"...So I've been told."

She tilted her head at him, noting the way his posture had subtly shifted—just enough to show a sliver of unease. Not discomfort with her, just with the subject.

She softened her tone. "Is he your friend?"

Gray was quiet for a long moment.

"I suppose," he said finally, voice low. "He's...persistent. And he hasn't given up on me yet."

Itsuka blinked, a little surprised at the honesty.

"Well, sounds like a good friend to me," she said warmly.

Gray said nothing. But the way he glanced down at the mat, almost contemplatively, was enough to tell her that the word friend still felt foreign to him. Strange. But not...unwanted. He does enjoy Izuku's company, after all. Not that he would ever admit it.

"Don't look so tense," she added playfully. "You're allowed to have friends, you know. It's not a weakness."

Gray looked at her. "...That is not what I was taught."

Itsuka blinked. Once again, his words caught her off guard—not because of their bluntness, but because of the heavy truth woven into them. He said it so plainly, like a fact he had accepted a long time ago. Like someone had once drilled it into his very being: Connections make you weak.

She stared at him for a quiet second, piecing together the little fragments he let slip in conversations. He always talked like a soldier, moved like a machine, and thought like he was bracing for battle even during something as simple as a spar.

Who taught him something like that? What kind of life has this guy really had?

But instead of prying, she smiled. A warm, bright, genuine kind of smile—the kind that could melt even the iciest silence.

"Then maybe it's time someone taught you differently."

Gray blinked, expression unreadable. But there was a flicker behind his eyes. A pause in his breathing. He didn't reply—not with words, at least—but something about the way he nodded was softer than usual. Less mechanical. Almost...thoughtful.

They sat there for a moment longer, the dojo quiet around them save for the wind outside brushing gently against the paper walls.

After a beat, Itsuka added with a playful nudge, "Besides, it's not like you've been completely alone. You let me keep showing up, remember?"

Gray tilted his head, then answered dryly, "You didn't give me much of a choice."

"Exactly," she grinned. "That's what friends are for."

There was an awkward beat as Gray blinked at her, still clearly processing the concept. Then he simply muttered, "...Strange."

Itsuka chuckled and stood up, brushing herself off. "You'll get used to it eventually. One of us has to make a human out of you."

Gray didn't reply. But as he stood up beside her, she noticed a subtle shift in his posture. It was small—barely there—but it was enough.

Less guarded. Less rigid.

A start.

As they were wrapping up their session for the day, Itsuka suddenly had an idea. "You know what? We should go somewhere!"

"Somewhere?"

"Yeah! Anywhere," she said, waving her hand casually. "We've been stuck training in this dojo of yours for a week now. Let's hang out like actual people."

Gray tilted his head slightly. "Is this...different from going to a business meeting?"

Itsuka raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Completely. Going out is part of the full friend experience."

Gray was silent for a long moment, seemingly computing this information like a machine trying to parse a new input. His eyes narrowed slightly in thought. He looked almost...nervous?

"I don't think that's necessary. I've already fulfilled my social quota for the month by visiting Midoriya's home."

Itsuka crossed her arms. "Kishimi-kun."

"I've already stepped into an unfamiliar domestic space. I do not need to add another layer of social uncertainty today."

"...Kishimi-kun."

"I will politely decline. This was a productive session. I would now like to return to being alone with my thoughts."

Itsuka leaned in with a mischievous smirk. "Kishimi-kun."

"I'd rather return to my home," he deadpanned, turning toward the exit.

"Nope." She quickly skipped in front of him, blocking his path. "Not a request. The mall's still open and we're going."

Gray's eyes narrowed dangerously, calling upon the only weapon left in his arsenal—the infamous Gray-glare™.

Itsuka met it with a smile and raised brow. "That doesn't work on me anymore, broody."

Gray's eye twitched. "...Ethan was right," he muttered to himself. "Extroverts do adopt introverts." He didn't know what the robot butler meant when he told him that, but now he was starting to understand.

"Yep! Indeed they do!"

Before Gray could launch another protest, Itsuka grabbed his wrist and began dragging him out of the dojo. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a war general being forced into retirement.

"You're lucky I didn't bring glitter," Itsuka teased, pulling him along.

Gray grunted. "This is kidnapping."

"This is friendship," she countered.

As they disappeared into the early evening glow, the sun dipped just a bit lower—casting two long shadows side-by-side on the sidewalk. One stiff, reluctant, and straight as a board. The other skipping slightly ahead with energy that could rival a caffeine-fueled dynamo.

It was the age-old tale of an extrovert dragging her reluctant introvert into the world. One awkward outing at a time.

Gray Kishimi stood in front of the massive mall entrance, his expression blank as ever. The glass-paneled building stretched wide with colorful advertisements flashing sales, restaurants, arcades, and enough noise to overwhelm even the most seasoned extrovert.

Gray blinked.

"...This is...excessive."

Itsuka Kendo, already two steps ahead of him, turned with a wide grin. "That's kind of the point! C'mon, loosen up a little. You're supposed to be enjoying yourself."

"I am uncertain what part of this experience constitutes enjoyment."

"Exactly," she said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him forward. "Time to learn."

The Food Court

"Try this," Itsuka said, offering Gray a skewer of grilled meat.

Gray stared at it like it was a tactical threat.

"...Is it poisoned?"

Itsuka sighed dramatically. "You're impossible."

Gray took a tentative bite, chewing silently as he processed the flavor. Then, without much emotion: "It's...tolerable."

"That's it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "No 'wow' or 'that's good'?"

"I said tolerable. That is already high praise."

She groaned and rubbed her forehead. "I don't know if I should be honored or offended."

After sampling the grilled meat skewer—declaring it "tolerable" with all the excitement of a military report—Gray calmly walked over to the next food stall. He returned with a tray carrying a neatly wrapped burger, fries...and, to Itsuka's growing horror, a fork and knife.

She stared at him as he unwrapped the burger like it was a delicate operation, then carefully cut it in half with surgical precision.

"...You can't be serious," Itsuka said flatly, mouth half-open in disbelief.

Gray, completely unfazed, looked up at her. "What?"

"That's a burger, Kishimi. You eat it with your hands."

He blinked, genuinely puzzled. "But I was taught that meals should always be eaten with proper etiquette. Using one's hands is unhygienic and inefficient."

Itsuka dragged a hand down her face. "It's fast food! It's supposed to be messy!"

Gray paused, holding the perfectly bisected burger with his fork.

"...That explains the lack of cutlery at the stall." He was wondering why the cashier looked at him weirdly when he asked for cutlery for his meal.

"Yes! It's not a high-society banquet—it's the food court of a mall!"

Gray glanced around and, for the first time, noticed several kids and families devouring burgers with ketchup on their fingers and crumbs everywhere.

He stared down at his knife and fork, then back up at her, almost sheepishly. "...I see."

Itsuka leaned over the table with a grin. "Live a little, Mr. Polite. Ditch the silverware."

Gray hesitated—then, slowly, awkwardly, picked up the burger with both hands.

It was rigid. Like watching someone defuse a bomb.

He took a bite.

"...Hm." Was all that he said, causing Itsuka to sweat drop. She then chuckled. "You're impossible. But at least now you're impossible with sauce on your hands."

The Clothing Store

Gray emerged from the changing room in a black hoodie and dark jeans, inspecting himself in the mirror with slight confusion.

Itsuka chuckled. "Look at you, dressing like a normal human being for once!"

Gray turned, staring deadpan. "I fail to understand the need for decorative fabric. My current attire functions perfectly."

"That's not the point," she replied. "You're supposed to try new styles. Personality. Flair. Y'know, express yourself."

"I already do," he said with a straight face.

"How?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out...a jet-black card with a tiny silver raven emblem. It was the business card for his dojo.

"...That doesn't count."

The Arcade

They stood before the whirring neon lights of a fighting game machine.

"Alright, time to put those soldier reflexes to the test," Itsuka said, cracking her knuckles.

Gray narrowed his eyes. "This is a simulation of combat?"

"...Yeah. Sort of. A fun one. Less blood. No permanent injuries. Big plus."

Gray didn't reply—he sat down and grabbed the joystick, scanning the screen.

Five minutes later, he had flawlessly destroyed Kendo in every round.

She dropped her controller in shock. "What?! How are you THIS good already?!"

"I memorized the frame data and AI behavior patterns within the first match," Gray replied blandly.

Itsuka stared at him, slack-jawed. "...You memorized what?!"

Gray tilted his head slightly. "Is that not how people approach games?"

Itsuka slumped over the machine. "I take it back. You are banned from ever entering an arcade again."

After Gray's complete and utter domination of the fighting game, Itsuka groaned dramatically and dragged him toward the skee ball machines.

"Alright, time for something you can't overanalyze. Just roll the ball. Into the holes. That's it."

Gray tilted his head. "This appears to be a game of probability and angle estimation."

"...Just throw the ball, broody."

Gray stepped up to the machine, picked up a skee ball, and eyed the target board. He analyzed it like he was prepping for an assassination mission. Calculating arc trajectory, speed, and optimal release angle.

Then he hurled the ball with the full force of someone who had never been taught the word moderation.

CRACK!!

The ball rocketed straight through the hole, shattering the mechanism behind it. The entire machine shook violently before sparks flew out and the screen blinked off with a pathetic beep.

Everyone in the arcade turned to stare.

Itsuka froze mid-step, her mouth hanging open anime-style.

Gray blinked, lowering his arm.

"...Did I do that incorrectly?"

"YOU THINK?!" Itsuka shouted, waving her arms. "You just KO'd the damn skee ball machine!"

Gray examined the now-smoking console and reached into his pocket and calmly pulled out his company business card. "I will cover the repair costs."

Itsuka pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course you carry your billionaire black card on you at all times."

Gray handed it to the wide-eyed arcade manager, who had come running over in horror.

"I deeply apologize for the inconvenience. I misjudged the structural integrity of the machine."

The manager took the card with trembling hands, already seeing dollar signs.

Itsuka looked between Gray and the damaged machine.

"Okay, new rule," she said. "From now on, no strength-based games. Nothing with throwing, punching, kicking, or anything that can cause catastrophic damage."

Gray nodded solemnly. "Understood."

"Also, maybe...try not to treat every game like a covert ops mission?"

"...No promises."

The sky had darkened to a mellow orange, the sun dipping beneath the horizon as they walked side by side toward the exit.

Gray carried a small paper bag with a few items—none of which he needed, but Itsuka had insisted he buy "at least something for fun."

"Thank you," he said quietly, not quite meeting her eyes.

"For what?" she asked.

"For...this experience. It was...informative."

Itsuka smiled. "It's called hanging out. And you're welcome. We're doing it again sometime."

Gray paused, then nodded slowly. "Understood."

Ethan, polishing the silverware, glanced up as Gray entered the manor wearing unusually casual attire along with a faint trace of salt on his clothes and a strange paper bag.

"You smell like grease and public restrooms," Ethan remarked. "I assume this means the outing was successful?"

Gray exhaled as he placed the bag on the counter.

"...Define 'successful.'"

"I take it that means you'll be seeing this 'Kendo girl' more in the future?"

Gray didn't answer. But he didn't say no, either.

The morning sun peeked through the curtains as Izuku Midoriya slowly sat up in bed, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Another day of school. Another day of surviving Aldera.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as the familiar weight of anxiety settled on his shoulders.

No. Don't start the day like that.

Shaking his head, he pushed the thoughts aside and instead focused on something brighter—his friend. Or rather, as Gray put it, his companion. Izuku snorted at the memory. Still working on the "friend" thing, huh, Kishimi-san?

He hadn't met this new "Kendo" girl Gray mentioned yet, but Izuku couldn't help but feel a swelling sense of pride as he shed an imaginary tear. Gray, the emotionally constipated, socially inept brooding mystery man, actually managed to make another connection. He's growing, Izuku thought with a mental thumbs-up and a sparkle in his eye. They grow up so fast...

His moment of self-indulgent sentimentality was suddenly shattered by the urgent voice of his mother calling out from the kitchen.

"Izuku! Come out here—quick! You need to see this!"

Startled, he scrambled to his feet and rushed into the living room. "M-Mom? What's going on?"

Inko didn't look at him—her eyes were glued to the TV as she pointed at the screen. "Look!"

Izuku turned to face the news broadcast and froze.

In the headlines, it read:

BREAKING NEWS: MIDDLE SCHOOL IN MUSUTAFU SHUT DOWN. ALDERA JUNIOR HIGH UNDER INVESTIGATION FOR SHOCKING VIOLATIONS.

A rapid-fire list of crimes scrolled beneath the bold headline:
Severe bullying. Quirk discrimination. Illegal quirk usage. Extortion. Fraud. RACKETEERING. Illegal drug circulation.
Arrests had been made. Names of faculty were being listed. Parents were protesting outside the school gates.

The camera panned to footage of police tape, stunned students, and angry parents shouting into microphones.

Izuku's jaw dropped. "W-What...?!"

And then, one memory surfaced.

'Hm. I see. Don't worry. I'll take care of it.' Gray's words from the other day echoed in his head and suddenly it clicked.

Gray...what the hell did you do?!

FLASHBACK — A Few Days Earlier

All Might—Toshinori Yagi, in his frail form—was dead asleep on his bedroom, snoring softly under a mountain of blankets in the middle of the night. The room was silent, peaceful...

DING.

"Ugh...probably another spam message. 'Congratulations, you've won a free cruise,' or something..." he grumbled, voice hoarse from the day's patrol. He was old. And tired. Technology was not his strong suit.

Still, with a weary sigh, he reached over and picked up his phone, squinting at the glowing notification.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:  All Might. Toshinori Yagi. One For All user. I need you to do something imperative.

"What the-?!" Toshinori sputtered, blood gushing out of his mouth as he was shocked fully awake. "How did you-?! Who are you?!"

His thumbs flew across the screen.

TOSHINORI YAGI:  Who are you?! How did you get this number?!

UNKNOWN:  That doesn't matter right now.

Toshinori sputtered blood in shock once again, flabbergasted and aghast by the audacity. "EXCUSE ME?!" he screamed, clutching his phone like it personally offended him. "I think that matters VERY much right now!"

In truth, Gray had actually gotten All Might's number when he exchanged contacts with Izuku and saw All Might's contact details. He secretly added his number to his own phone as well. It wasn't hard to look for. All the contacts Izuku had on his phone were his mother, All Might, and Gray himself.

Toshinori was just about to call Nezu when another message arrived.

Unknown:  This is regarding Midoriya Izuku and Aldera Junior High. I know he's your successor. That school is a corrupt institution—years of discrimination, unchecked violence, systemic abuse. I'm asking for your help in exposing them. For his sake.

Unknown:  For justice.

Toshinori's face shifted from indignation to solemn concern. His anger dropped into silence, but still shocked about this person's knowledge.

Another text arrived.

Unknown:  You are the Symbol of Peace. Your public opposition alone will be enough to break them. They won't be able to fight back.

Unknown: I've gathered evidence—surveillance, testimonies, hidden documents. I'm sending it now.

Another ping.

Toshinori's phone buzzed violently as an enormous packet of files loaded into his inbox. His eyes scanned over them—scans of reports, confidential logs, video footage, audio recordings. It was all real. And it was damning.

His stomach twisted. He had no idea that his successor was attending such a school!

TOSHINORI YAGI:
I understand the situation. But...how can I trust you?

A pause.

Then came the reply.

UNKNOWN:
Is there a reason you shouldn't?

Toshinori actually blinked in disbelief at the response coming from the person who basically invaded his secrets and personal privacy. Is...is this person serious?, he thought.

But even as he said it, he couldn't deny it—the evidence was airtight. Whoever this was, they had gone through extraordinary lengths not just to gather proof, but to protect Midoriya.

He concluded that this person must either be a brave and daring vigilante or a good friend of Young Midoriya's.

Still, he had to ask:

TOSHINORI YAGI:  How did you even get all this information?

A beat passed.

UNKNOWN:  Classified.

And just like that, the number went offline, not giving Toshinori any more chances to ask questions. He sat in stunned silence, staring at the message thread, blood still dripping from his mouth.

"...I really need to start asking Young Midoriya who his friends are," he muttered.

Back to the present

Ding-dong. Ding-dong. DING-DONG-DING-DONG-DING—

The sound of frantic button mashing echoed through the quiet estate grounds as Izuku Midoriya practically slammed his entire hand against the doorbell.

"Come on, come on, come on...Open up, Gray!!" he muttered, bouncing nervously on his feet.

He had sprinted here from the train station the moment the news segment ended. Every footstep from his apartment to the manor had been filled with conflicting thoughts.

Shock. Confusion. Fear.

And...relief?

He hated to admit it, but a part of him was relieved. It was as if a thick, invisible cloud had finally been pulled away from over his head. That place—Aldera Junior High—had haunted him. The memories. The silence. The looks. The way people pretended he wasn't even there. The constant reminder that his dream of being a hero was worthless.

Now it was gone. Exposed. Shut down.

And all signs pointed to one person.

Gray Kishimi.

The front gate hissed as it unlocked. The heavy manor doors slowly creaked open, revealing the composed—if ever so slightly startled—form of Gray Kishimi, standing in his usual formal attire, hands calmly folded behind his back.

He blinked at the sight of a clearly frantic, panting Izuku.

"You're early," Gray stated flatly.

"Y-You—" Izuku gasped, hands on his knees. "Gray—what the hell—what did you do?!"

Gray tilted his head slightly. "You'll need to be more specific."

Izuku waved his arms wildly. "A-Aldera!! The arrests! The shutdown! You told me not to worry! You said, 'I'll take care of it!' I didn't think you meant...this!!!"

Gray simply blinked. "I did exactly what I said I would do."

"YOU—" Izuku cut himself off mid-shout, dragging his hands down his face before groaning. "I...I don't even know where to begin!"

Gray stepped aside wordlessly and gestured inside. "Then perhaps it's best we start from the beginning."

Still reeling, Izuku stepped in.

Inside the grand manor, the atmosphere felt somehow more intense than usual.

Izuku followed Gray into one of the lavish sitting rooms—though he barely noticed the ornate decor around him. His mind was still buzzing. The door clicked shut behind them.

Gray turned and clasped his hands behind his back with his usual stoic demeanor, while Izuku spun toward him, a mess of disbelief.

"You—Gray—you actually did it?!" Izuku sputtered, gesturing wildly toward absolutely nothing. "You took down an entire school! A school!!"

"Like I said, I did what I said I would," Gray repeated calmly, as if he were merely announcing he had done the dishes.

Izuku's mouth opened and closed multiple times. "Y-Yeah, but—when you said 'I'll take care of it,' I thought that meant, like—talking to someone or maybe sending an anonymous tip! N-Not bringing down Aldera like some kind of vigilante Godzilla!"

Gray blinked. "Would that have been effective?"

"NO!! I mean—YES?! I—ARGH!"

Izuku dragged his hands down his face dramatically. "H-How?! How did you even do all of this?! How did you get the pro heroes involved?! How did you contact All Might?!"

He froze. His eyes narrowed slightly.

'...Wait. Does he know?' Izuku thought, wondering if Gray knows about why he's training with All Might.

Gray said nothing for a moment. His expression didn't shift in the slightest. The silence was deafening.

Then, in the flattest voice imaginable, Gray answered, "I'm Gray Kishimi."

Izuku let out an audible sputter that sounded eerily like All Might choking on his own blood. "T-That's not an answer!! That's not even—W-What does that even mean?!"

Gray raised an eyebrow. "It answers everything."

"No, it doesn't!" Izuku wailed.

There was a moment of frustrated pacing before Gray finally relented just a little.

"I knew what they were doing to you was wrong," he said simply, his voice losing just a bit of its mechanical edge. "I acted accordingly. All I did was ensure justice was served."

Izuku paused at that.

Gray met his eyes, calm as ever. "Is that...not what heroes are supposed to do?" He asked as he tilted his head.

Izuku's protest caught in his throat.

His fists slowly unclenched. "I mean...yeah. But...it's just—no one's ever done anything like this for me before. I've always had to deal with things on my own."

Gray tilted his head. "You're not alone anymore."

Izuku looked at him, eyes wide.

Because then Gray said something that hit even harder—something quiet, something almost uncertain.

"Because they hurt you," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Because they hurt my...friend. And I didn't like that."

Izuku froze.

The words echoed in his head.

Friend.

Gray had just called him his friend. Out loud. Voluntarily. No emotional breakdown. No prompting. Just...said it.

Izuku's jaw slowly dropped.

"Y-You—"

"Yes?"

"You actually just called me—" He started, eyes wide.

"Midoriya, please don't make this weird," Gray said flatly. "I've said that before, haven't I?" He asked.

"No, you haven't!" Izuku laughed, pointing. "Y-You've implied it! But never actually said it!"

"Don't make me regret saying that," Gray deadpanned, but there was a faint flicker of something almost embarrassed in his eyes.

Izuku practically lit up with the force of a sunrise. "Nope! Too late!" he chirped, a mix of endearment and triumph bursting across his face. "I knew you were a softie somewhere deep in there!"

Gray narrowed his eyes slightly. "If you keep talking like that, I'll personally reset the AR simulation to expert-level enemies and put your training session on loop."

Izuku just grinned brighter. "Still worth it."

As the laughter from their earlier banter faded into silence, Izuku's expression softened. He looked at Gray earnestly, his smile dimming into something more sincere.

"Thank you," he said, voice quiet but filled with a deep, genuine emotion. "Really...thank you. For everything."

Gray didn't say anything in response. He just gave a faint nod, acknowledging the words in his own quiet way.

But Izuku's mind, as always, couldn't help but drift. His eyes fell to the floor, and that look returned—the one Gray had come to recognize. That blend of worry, guilt, and overthinking wrapped up in one expression.

"You're thinking about him again," Gray said.

Izuku blinked and looked up. "Huh? I... I just—Kacchan. I know he was part of the problem, but...I can't help but wonder how he's taking all this."

Gray's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone sharpening. "Midoriya."

Izuku straightened instinctively, sensing the shift in tone.

"He is not your responsibility. That is final," Gray said, his voice cool, even, and immovable. "However he deals with this—whether through denial, anger, or realization—is his burden to bear. Not yours."

Izuku flinched slightly. He wanted to protest, to argue that maybe things could still change between them, that maybe Katsuki could still—

But one glance at Gray's stern gaze silenced him.

There was no room for argument. Not this time.

"...Okay," Izuku finally whispered, more to himself than anyone else. The words tasted unfamiliar, but they needed to be said.

Gray's voice softened, just a fraction. "Focus on yourself now. You deserve that much."

Izuku took a deep breath, as if physically inhaling that advice. It was... strange, but comforting. Like the closing of an old chapter.

A moment passed before he tilted his head. "Wait, so... where am I going to go now? I mean, I literally don't have a school anymore—"

"I've already prepared a shortlist of institutions," Gray said casually, walking over to the wall-mounted screen nearby and pulling up a list of well-reputed schools. "You simply have to pick one."

Izuku's jaw dropped. "W-Wait, what?! Already?! What about entrance exams? Applications? Scheduling?! Y-You can't just transfer me like that! It can't be that easy—"

"It is," Gray interrupted with calm finality. "I'm Gray Kishimi."

Izuku threw his hands into the air, exasperated. "You can't keep saying that like it's an answer to everything!"

"It is when it is," Gray replied.

Izuku groaned in frustration. "Is this going to be, like, a thing with you now?"

"It already is." Gray answers, his tone as deadpan as ever.

Izuku sighed dramatically and slumped onto the couch, mumbling, "I need new friends..."

"And yet here you are," Gray deadpanned.

Izuku couldn't help but laugh.

Gray turned his gaze back to the screen. "If you don't feel comfortable with any of those schools, you're also welcome to be homeschooled. I have instructors on standby if needed. You could train and study at my manor."

Izuku blinked, clearly overwhelmed. "You...already thought of that too?"

"Of course. It would be inefficient to assume only one path forward."

Izuku stared at him, then slowly smiled—grateful, overwhelmed, and still somewhat flabbergasted. "You really do think of everything, don't you?"

Gray paused, thoughtful. "Not everything. But enough."

In the dim silence of his room, Katsuki Bakugou stared at the TV.

He wasn't paying attention at first—just flipping through channels out of boredom. But then the words Aldera Junior High Shut Down flashed across the screen.

He froze.

The anchors' voices filled the silence:

"Arrests made for long-term abuse, illegal quirk use, extortion, and more. Multiple students and faculty members under investigation—"

Katsuki sat upright, his eyes rarely wide.

He didn't care for that school. Hell, he hated it. The teachers were useless. The students were worse.

But still—watching it all burn down on national television?

"...Tch." He clicked his tongue, slumping back in his chair.

He clenched his fists, trying to process it all. For the first time, he had no idea how to feel.

Izuku stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as Gray organized files on a holographic interface. This was still all too much to process.

Aldera's gone. Gray did that. For me.

Here he was—on the verge of gaining a quirk. A powerful one. The one All Might entrusted to him.

But Gray would remain quirkless.

That thought had haunted Izuku for weeks.

Am I leaving him behind?

Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know. He needed to hear it from Gray himself.

"U-Um...Kishimi-san?"

Gray didn't turn. "Hm?"

"C-Can I ask a weird question?"

Gray finally looked at him. "All of your questions are weird."

Izuku flushed. "O-Okay, fair, but... if...if you were given a quirk all of a sudden... like, say someone just gave you one...would you take it?"

Gray's fingers stopped typing.

Izuku fumbled on. "Or—or if everyone around you got quirks and you didn't. Would it...bother you?"

Gray was silent for a beat. Then he looked forward, his voice low but firm.

"No."

Izuku looked up, startled.

"I don't care," Gray said with calm, resolute conviction. "Quirk or no quirk...I'll become a hero. That's not something anyone else decides for me. Not society. Not circumstance. Not some power I do or don't have."

He paused, his voice never wavering.

"If you're waiting for me to feel sorry for myself, don't. I'm not angry at the world for giving others quirks. I'm angry that it thinks that's all that defines a hero."

And also for taking my mother away from me.

His voice grew sharper—colder, but not cruel.

"It's not power that makes someone a hero. It's will. It's choice. It's soul."

It was something his mother always told him about what a hero should be. Back then, Gray didn't know what she meant, but now...he was starting to get a grip of it. Especially after doing his research and finding out about pros who should NOT be heroes...

Izuku stared at him, stunned into silence.

Gray looked at him then—right into his eyes.

"If my friends get stronger, I'm glad for them. But it won't change anything for me. I've made my decision."

I will walk this path.
With or without power.
Because I must.

He turned toward Izuku, his blue eyes burning with an eerie calm.

"Even if the entire world thinks I'm insane for believing it...I don't care. I'll become a hero. Whether they like it or not."

Izuku stood still, breath caught in his throat.

And then—something inside him shifted.

All that guilt, that doubt...melted away.

He smiled.

"...Thank you, Kishimi-san."

Gray raised a brow. "For what?"

"For being you."

Now, there was no question about it. There was no more doubt and guilt in his mind. He was going to accept One For All.

The late afternoon light filtered through the dojo windows as Gray and Kendo finished yet another sparring session. The sound of their footsteps softened against the polished wooden floor as they grabbed their towels.

"Your form has improved," Gray noted with a curt nod as he wiped his brow.

Itsuka smirked. "That almost sounded like a compliment. Who are you and what have you done with the real Kishimi?"

Gray tilted his head at her, confused. "I am the real Kishimi."

She snorted. "Exactly."

As she turned to grab her bag, Gray's voice made her pause. "Would you like to come to my manor?"

Kendo stopped in her tracks. Slowly, she turned her head. "Wait...what?"

Gray avoided her eyes. "You...mentioned wanting to see more than just this dojo. I assumed a tour of my residence would be a logical next step."

She blinked in pure disbelief for a moment before a slow, teasing grin spread across her face. "Well, well...you actually took initiative. Should I be proud?"

"I don't know," Gray said honestly.

Itsuka chuckled. "Yeah, I'll come by."

Later that evening, her phone buzzed. Gray had sent her his home address.

She opened the message — only to pause at the closing line:

Sincerely, Gray Kishimi.

"...Is he texting me or writing a job application?" she muttered, sweat-dropping.

As she followed the address through the upscale streets of Mustafu, her eyes widened.

"Okay...yeah, this is definitely billionaire territory."

Then she saw it.

The manor.

Modern and sleek, with elegant architecture wrapped in luxury and isolation. Trees lined the stone pathway, and subtle security systems flickered quietly in the corners of her vision.

Standing at the front gate was Gray, dressed in the casual outfit they picked out together during their mall trip.

Kendo slowed her steps, gawking openly. "You weren't kidding when you said manor."

Gray gave a short nod. "Welcome."

Before she could comment, the front door opened with a soft whoosh, and a tall figure stepped out.

With pristine white gloves, a black suit, and a glowing blue eye in the center of his robotic face, Ethan bowed politely. "Good afternoon, Miss Kendo. Welcome to the Kishimi residence. I am Ethan, Master Gray's caretaker and assistant."

Itsuka just...stared.

"Wait. Wait. Is your guardian...a robot?"

"Yes," Gray answered.

"He has manners."

Itsuka only stared, trying to process all of this. Her friend was a trillionaire who lives in a manor. Who had a robot butler as his guardian. This was all too much to bare.

Ethan, ever courteous, bowed again. "Please make yourself at home. I've taken the liberty of preparing refreshments in the main parlor."

Itsuka blinked, then slowly turned to Gray. "You're aware this is not a normal household, right?"

Gray tilted his head. "Is it not?"

She laughed. "Oh my God, you really don't know."

That's when she heard another voice echo from the hall:

"Uh—K-Kishimi-san?! I think your snack cabinet is more organized than an entire hospital wing!"

Itsuka turned her head toward the source of the voice, eyes narrowing curiously.

A second later, a green-haired boy stumbled into view, arms full of neatly labeled snack trays. His eyes went wide the moment he spotted her.

"Ah! U-Uh—hi! I—uh—you must be Kendo-san, right?" he stammered, carefully setting the trays down on the nearby counter. "Gray told me he met someone new! Y-You're the martial artist, right?! S-Sorry, talking to girls isn't really my strong suit." He said sheepishly.

Kendo blinked at the sudden burst of energy. Compared to Gray's monotone silence, this boy was practically a whirlwind. "And you must be Izuku Midoriya," she said with a smirk. "Kishimi-kun told me you text like a nervous wreck."

Izuku flushed. "H-Hey! I do not—!"

"You do," came Gray's voice as he appeared in the doorway with perfect timing, arms crossed.

Izuku turned to him, still flustered. He pointed an accusing finger at Gray. "And you text like you're filing government reports!"

Itsuka couldn't help but laugh. She looked at both boys and shook her head.

So this is Gray's other friend.

They couldn't have been more different—one a stuttering, earnest fanboy with nervous energy practically radiating off him, and the other a socially inept trillionaire super-soldier who took every word far too literally and seriously.

I'm dealing with two different kinds of introverts, she realized with a growing grin. One's got the social skills of a brick, and the other has the anxiety of a startled cat.

"I already feel like I'm gonna be babysitting both of you," she joked.

"H-Hey!" Izuku protested again, clearly used to this kind of teasing.

Gray tilted his head. "We're the same age."

"Emotionally? I'm not so sure," Kendo said with a laugh, flopping onto the couch. "But don't worry—I've got enough 'people skills' for the three of us."

Gray blinked at her. "How does one quantify 'people skills'?"

She stared at him for a beat, then turned to Izuku. "Please tell me he's always like this."

Izuku just sighed with a helpless shrug. "Y-Yeah...pretty much."

Kendo grinned again. Yup. Hopeless. Both of them.

Later, as they each relaxed with drinks in hand in one of the manor's many lounges, Itsuka pulled out her phone and laughed softly. "Okay, so I have to ask..."

She showed her screen—Gray's most recent message still visible at the bottom:

Gray Kishimi: Be sure to eat before you arrive. I cannot guarantee Midoriya won't eat everything.
Sincerely, Gray Kishimi.

"Does he always end his texts like this?" she asked Izuku, incredulous.

Izuku chuckled nervously. "Y-Yeah...he does. At this point, I've just kind of accepted it."

She raised an amused brow. "You mean you let him get away with this?!"

"I've tried telling him," Izuku defended himself. "But then he just stares at me like I offended his ancestors."

Gray sipped his tea with complete seriousness. "Proper etiquette should not be discarded simply because of digital communication."

Itsuka pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to laugh. "I am literally adopting two introverts," she mumbled to herself.

Izuku tilted his head. "H-Huh?"

"Nothing," she said brightly, hiding a smirk. "Just realizing that my life got a lot more interesting."

Gray gave her a mildly suspicious look, but said nothing.

Izuku smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck again. "W-Well...we're glad to have you around, Kendo-san."

Itsuka gave a grin. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual."

Gray moved with quiet purpose, hands behind his back, as he led Itsuka through one of the many winding corridors of his manor. He was giving her a tour.

But as expected, Gray's idea of a 'simple tour' was anything but.

"This is the eastern sunroom," Gray stated casually, gesturing to a space that looked like it belonged in a palace catalog, complete with imported marble floors, cascading indoor plants, and windows that reached from the floor to the vaulted ceiling. "It's primarily used in the mornings, though I don't typically go in here."

Itsuka tried not to gape...but failed.

She turned her head slowly. "Wait, you don't even use this room?!"

Gray blinked. "Correct. I prefer the central study in the west wing. The natural light is more balanced for reading."

"...You have wings in your house?"

Gray continued walking, unfazed. "Follow me. The indoor greenhouse is this way."

Itsuka's legs moved, but her brain had long since checked out. As he led them deeper into the manor, room after room blurred together—grand libraries, crystal-lit staircases, a dining room that could seat a corporate board, and a sitting room that was, apparently, only used for listening to classical music.

Somewhere around the fourth corridor, Itsuka had mentally flatlined—eyes blank, her soul visibly leaving her body anime-style.

Izuku noticed and gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I felt the same way the first time." He said with a solemn nod.

She turned her head slowly toward him, still dazed. "There are three sitting rooms. Three."

"Just wait until you see the art gallery," Izuku muttered, glancing ahead. "And the piano room. And the private koi pond..."

"I...I'm just trying to become a hero," Itsuka whispered, "Not marry into royalty..."

"Welcome to Gray Kishimi's manor," Izuku said with a dramatic sigh. "Where the closets are bigger than your apartment, and the fridge has multiple temperature zones."

Behind them, Gray stopped in front of a pair of tall, polished double doors. "This is the indoor recreational area," he stated.

The doors opened to reveal a tennis court.

Itsuka's brow twitched. "Of course it is."

"And that concludes the surface-level portion of the manor tour," Gray said, turning toward them with the faintest nod.

"Surface-level?" Itsuka repeated, raising a brow.

Gray tilted his head in thought, then answered with complete seriousness, "Well...there is another room."

Izuku's eyes widened. "W-Wait, Kishimi-san! Y-You're really gonna show her that place?" he asked, nearly tripping over his words. He was referring to the place—Gray's underground base. The Batcave-esque lair that screamed superhero vigilante mode.

Gray was quiet for a long moment. His gaze drifted toward Itsuka, analyzing... contemplating. Finally, he nodded once. "Yes."

Itsuka blinked in confusion. "What place? What are you guys talking about?"

Izuku looked between the two of them, still stunned. "R-Really?"

Gray turned slightly. "Yes. I trust her."

There was a pause.

Itsuka's eyes widened a fraction. Gray's words weren't delivered with his usual cold calculation—they were simple, genuine. Warm, a tone she did not expect coming from someone like Gray.

Gray had already started walking. "Come. This way."

They followed him down a long hallway until he came to a stop in front of a door.

Gray opened it.

It was...an office. A sleek, spotless, book-lined office with a modern desk and matte black furnishings. The kind of office that screamed "CEO of a trillion-yen company."

Itsuka let out a breath. "Of course you have an office," she muttered.

Without responding, Gray walked over to one of the bookshelves. He reached for a thick black book labeled 'Tactical Evolution: Volume VII' and pulled it. A soft mechanical click echoed through the room.

A hidden panel behind the bookshelf slid open.

Inside was a futuristic elevator, dimly lit with glowing blue panels and a sleek control interface.

Itsuka stared.

Izuku simply nodded. "Yup. There it is."

Gray turned toward them and stepped into the elevator. "Are you coming?"

Itsuka remained still for a moment, trying to process everything. "...You have a secret elevator. Inside your secret manor. Leading to a secret underground facility."

"Yes."

"...Do you fight crime on weekends too?"

Gray tilted his head. "No. Not yet."

Both his friends blinked at him. 'Yet?', They though simultaneously. 

The elevator descended.

When the doors opened, Itsuka stepped out—and her soul nearly left her body.

Towering monitors. Holographic training dummies. Glass cases of gear. Blueprints scattered across a high-tech workbench. Weapons, gadgets, even a few mechanical prototypes and gun turrets lined the walls.

"...Is this a pro hero command center?!"

Gray blinked. "Technically, it's an underground research and training simulation facility designed for future pro-hero work."

Itsuka's face went pale as this was all just too much for her. And then, in full anime fashion, her knees buckled and she collapsed backward onto the floor, eyes swirling as her soul was visibly attempting to leave her body once again.

Izuku reached out his hand, calling out to her. "K-KENDOOOOOO!" He screamed her name.

Gray looked down at her with a curious expression. "...Did I overdo it?"

"...A little."

Itsuka groaned softly as her eyes fluttered open, the sterile white light above her blurring into view. 

“…You’re awake. Good. I was beginning to suspect that the shock had short-circuited your brain.”

“Wha—?”

Itsuka jolted, turning her head only to see a sharply dressed robot sitting neatly in a chair beside the bed. His single glowing blue eye blinked once in calm observation.

“You passed out,” Ethan said matter-of-factly, folding his mechanical hands on his lap. “Frankly, a tad dramatic. But understandable. Master Gray does have a flair for the…overwhelming.”

Itsuka blinked. “Wait…you’re the robot butler.”

Ethan tilted his head. “I prefer the term ‘domestic managerial assistant with full cognitive autonomy and an advanced sense of charm.’ But yes. Robot butler works too.”

“…You can talk like that?”

“I can do far more than talk, young lady,” Ethan replied, his voice tinged with faux offense. “And I’ll have you know I have feelings too. You referring to me as ‘the robot’ was rather dehumanizing.”

Itsuka sat up, surprised. “O-Oh. I didn’t mean it like that! I just—wait, do you really have emotions?”

Ethan gave a sigh—an actual, artificial sigh. “I help raise a super-soldier genius boy who doesn’t understand sarcasm, schedules himself three hours of sleep a night, and puts himself through combat simulations like they’re bedtime stories. Trust me—I’ve developed plenty of emotions.”

That got a laugh out of her. “Wow. So you’re like…his dad?”

Ethan looked off toward the distant glass wall that overlooked the training chamber. “I assigned myself as his caretaker after some...unfortunate circumstances. Since then, I’ve done what I can to keep him alive, sane, and relatively human.”

He paused, his voice quieter. “Though, I admit, it’s been easier with you and Midoriya around.”

Itsuka softened. The way he spoke—fond, protective, and full of weary amusement—wasn’t something you could just program. It was real. He cared.

And that surprised her more than the secret base, more than the high-tech gadgets, more than anything else.

But something else lingered in her mind—those words.

Unfortunate circumstances.

Her gaze flicked to Ethan, who stood calmly beside her. He didn’t elaborate, and something in his tone told her that asking would cross a line. So she didn’t. Not yet.

Still, she had to wonder, what kind of past creates someone like that?

She didn’t know. But she was going to find out.

Because even if he didn’t know it yet...she was his friend.

And friends don’t just stand by.

Speaking of friends, “So…where are the boys?” She asked, wondering where Izuku and Gray was.

“In the simulation chamber,” Ethan said. “Testing new parameters.”

“Huh? Simulation?” Itsuka tilted her head.

Ethan stood and gestured for her to follow. “Why don’t you look for yourself?”

He guided her down a short hallway that opened into an elevated overlook above the sprawling underground facility. Below, illuminated by the soft blue glow of the holographic AR grid, Izuku and Gray were sparring in synchronized combat against a dozen glowing humanoid opponents.

Itsuka gawked. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

She watched as Izuku used his momentum to flip over an opponent, stumbling a bit on the landing but managing to recover. Meanwhile, Gray moved with flawless precision, his movements a blur of sharp angles and efficient strikes—like a shadow gliding through light.

Itsuka clutched the railing, her mouth slightly open. “What even is this place…?”

Ethan, standing beside her, answered dryly, “Master Gray’s idea of a healthy afterschool hobby.”

Itsuka stared in awe, her lips twitched. “Of course it is.”

After the training session finally ended. The simulated enemies faded into shards of light, leaving behind a quiet hum in the massive underground chamber.

Gray and Izuku stood at the center, catching their breath—though Gray, as usual, looked barely winded while Izuku collapsed onto his knees, panting with a shaky grin. “Y-You’re still…so fast…”

From the upper level, Itsuka had been watching it all unfold like something out of a sci-fi movie. The moment the holograms flickered off, she slowly turned to Ethan with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“…How is this even real?” she asked, genuinely baffled. “This is next-level tech. Like, pro-hero agency next-level. Government next-level!”

Ethan gave a humble nod. “Master Gray is quite resourceful. He built the core systems from scratch, with a few upgrades on my end as well as assistance from a few trustworthy people at Kishimi Enterprises.”

“…Of course he did,” she muttered, her hands gripping the railing tighter. “And he fights like that?”

As if hearing her, Gray looked up from the arena and made eye contact.

A few minutes later, the three of them regrouped in the lounge just outside the simulation chamber. Gray was toweling off his hands, still composed as ever.

Itsuka still looked shell-shocked. “Okay…seriously. I’ve gotta ask.”

Gray turned to her with his usual calm. “Ask.”

“You fight like a pro. You’ve got an underground base. You’re a trillionaire. You text like a cryptic old man. What even is your quirk?”

Izuku looked up mid-sip from his water bottle, eyes widening slightly. Ethan, still nearby, visibly paused and turned just enough to watch.

Gray didn’t hesitate. “I don’t have one.”

Itsuka's eyes widened. “Wait—what?”

“I’m quirkless.”

Her brain short-circuited. “You’re—what?!”

She stood up abruptly, pointing at him like he just told her the moon was fake. “You’re quirkless?!”

Gray gave a small nod, folding the towel neatly on the bench. “Yes.”

“You’re quirkless…and you built that—” she gestured wildly toward the AR chamber, “—and you fight like that—and you own this manor?!”

Gray blinked. “Correct.”

Itsuka flopped back down onto the chair, stunned into silence, mouth half-open in disbelief.

Ethan cleared his throat, stepping into the room with a perfectly timed, mock-gentle tone. “Sir, you might not want to overwhelm the poor girl all at once. Otherwise, she might pass out again.”

Gray tilted his head. “She already woke up.”

“I am aware, Master Gray. That’s what makes it worse.”

Izuku tried not to laugh. He failed.

Itsuka looked between all of them, a hand over her forehead. “What kind of life are you people living?”

Gray actually thought for a moment until he answered the most Gray Kishimi answer ever. “An effective one.”

That finally broke her.

She threw her hands up and laughed—loud and genuine. “Unbelievable. You’re the weirdest group I’ve ever met. And I’ve been in martial arts tournaments with people who scream like eagles.”

Izuku grinned sheepishly. “You get used to it.”

Gray remained silent for a moment before quietly adding, “...Thank you.”

Itsuka blinked. “For what?”

“For not treating me differently.”

Her eyes softened. “Of course. You’re still the same guy who stiffly bows after every sparring match and asks if conversations are ‘mandatory.’”

Izuku chuckled. “And still ends every text with ‘Sincerely, Gray Kishimi.’”

Ethan turned to Gray, baffled. “Wait. You still do that, Master Gray?”

Gray blinked. “Yes. It's polite.”

Ethan sighed. “Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.”

They all laughed together—genuine, warm, and ridiculous in the best way.

For once, Gray didn’t feel like a soldier, or a machine, or a child raised for war.

He just felt…normal.

Even if only for a moment.

He was about to actually smile until-

BANG!

The gunshot...

That gunshot...

It rings in his head once again.

He could see it again.

His mother's lifeless body laying in his bloody hands.

Gray’s expression fell, his posture tightening as his gaze dropped to the floor as the memory of that tragedy resurfaced. He said nothing, just stared at the ground as the haze of the past threatened to swallow him whole.

Izuku blinked and tilted his head in concern. “K-Kishimi-san? Are you…okay?”

Itsuka sat forward slightly, worry creeping onto her face. “You zoned out there for a second.”

Gray flinched — just barely — then inhaled slowly, grounding himself.

“…I’m fine,” he said quietly. Too quietly. His voice lacked its usual confidence, its usual steel. “I’m alright.”

But he didn’t meet their faces.

Before either of them could press further, Gray stood up abruptly, his motions clipped and deliberate. “Excuse me. I’ll go change out of my training gear.”

And with that, he turned and left the room in silence, footsteps fading into the distant hallway.

Izuku and Itsuka exchanged glances. Concern etched both their faces, unspoken but mutual.

“…He’s not fine,” Itsuka said softly.

Izuku nodded, his hands tightening around his water bottle. “No. He’s not.”

Ethan looked at the two friends, taking their concern in consideration.

The trio returned to the manor in a comfortable silence. The mood was lighter than it had been earlier, but the lingering heaviness of Gray’s sudden withdrawal still clung faintly to the air.

Once they returned to the living room, or at least...one of them, Itsuka suddenly clapped her hands, snapping the quiet like a whip. “Alright! I’ve got an idea!” she said, voice energetic and bright.

Gray, who had just changed into a clean black sweater and slacks, looked over at her, slightly suspicious. “An idea for… what?”

“A game,” she said, grinning. “We’re going to play Uno.”

Gray blinked. “Uno?” His head tilted, eyes narrowing in contemplation. “That’s the card game with color-coded numbers and action cards…correct?”

“Wow. Yes. That’s disturbingly accurate,” Itsuka said, slightly thrown off.

Izuku, rubbing the back of his neck, chuckled sheepishly. “U-Um...I’ve actually never played games with anyone before. N-Not like this, anyway. Not since I was really little.”

She stared at the two of them in disbelief, then dramatically slumped forward, head on the table.

“Oh my god. I’m surrounded by two socially-inept boys who don’t know how to have fun,” she groaned. “Okay. Fine. I’ll teach both of you. And we’re going to enjoy this.”

Izuku giggled. “Y-You sound like a teacher, Kendo-san.”

“Because you both need one,” she said flatly, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

As she explained the rules, Gray sat with perfect posture, nodding seriously as though he was absorbing a combat briefing.

“So...the aim is to reduce your hand size through strategic placement of cards...based on either color or number compatibility,” he muttered. “There are offensive cards — ‘Skip,’ ‘Draw Two,’ ‘Reverse,’ and... ‘Wild Draw Four’ appears to be the most lethal... Hm. Victory is ensured through tactical foresight and deception.”

“KIshimi-kun, it’s Uno. You’re not defusing a bomb.”

“I fail to see how this isn't a game of structured psychological warfare,” he replied, deadpan.

“Midoriya-kun,” she groaned, leaning toward him as he giggled nervously, “You owe me for this.”

“I-I’ll buy you lunch?” he offered with a shrug, not quite sure why he was apologizing but feeling like he should.

Itsuka shook her head and smile brightly. "Anyways, let's play!"

And to no one's surprise—Gray played to win. Mercilessly. It appears that even in games he had no concept of holding back.

Each match ended with Gray calmly placing down his final card while Izuku groaned in dismay, arms slumping across the table with a hand of thirteen cards still in play.

“I-I can’t believe I got hit with ‘Draw Four’ three times in a row,” he muttered, borderline betrayed.

“Rules of the game,” Gray replied with a shrug, as if he were discussing the outcome of a war simulation. “You should have planned your hand better.”

Itsuka snorted. “You do know the goal is to have fun, right?”

“I am enjoying this,” Gray said, though his voice hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Still, there was something different about him. The usual tension in his shoulders had eased. The faraway look in his eyes was gone. And for a moment — just a fleeting moment — his lips curved into something resembling a faint smile.

Izuku laughed, genuinely and openly. “Y-You’re impossible, Kishimi-san.”

“And you’re terrible at Uno, Midoriya,” Gray returned without missing a beat.

Itsuka burst out laughing as well, leaning back in the sofa. “This is what I’m talking about. This right here—this is fun.”

As the three friends continued their makeshift game night, Ethan stood silently from the hallway, quietly observing the scene from the shadows beyond the lights.

His glowing eye flickered softly, the subtle hum of his core thrumming like a heartbeat.

He could still remember months ago — the way Gray locked himself in his underground base for days at a time, training until his body gave out, speaking little, sleeping less.

And now, here he was. Sitting at a table with two friends, learning how to play.

Learning how to live.

‘Master Gray...you’ve come so far,’ Ethan thought to himself, ‘You finally found yourself some great friends.’

And though Gray would never say it aloud...he knew it too.

Chapter Text

It was another quiet afternoon at Gray's manor, the sunlight casting a warm glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows. For once, the underground base sat silent. No AR simulations. No combat drills. No tactical breakdowns or long strategy sessions.

Instead, Gray Kishimi, Izuku Midoriya, and Itsuka Kendo were all gathered around the grand living room table surrounded by snacks, drinks, and an unassuming deck of Uno cards.

"Y-You guys ready this time?" Izuku asked, a determined spark in his eyes as he cracked his knuckles. Although his smile was...anything but normal-looking as his attempted confident smile could not hide his nervousness inside, making his face look wonky.

"You were the one who requested a rematch," Itsuka grinned, trying not to laugh at the weird face Izuku was making as she shuffled the deck with practiced ease. "Feeling brave, Midoriya?"

"I refuse to let my Uno legacy start and end in complete ruin!" he declared with his fist in the air, full of heroic conviction over...a card game.

Gray remained quiet, sitting across from them. He adjusted his cards with eerie precision, his face blank as usual. "I fail to understand how this game has anything to do with legacy."

"Of course you wouldn't," Izuku muttered under his breath with a bead of sweat.

They began to play, banter flying as the cards hit the table.

"Draw four."

"What?! Again?!"

"Reverse."

"W-Wait, no, not again—"

"Uno."

Gray said the word with all the emotion of a military commander announcing an enemy's defeat.

Within minutes, Izuku was buried beneath a stack of cards, head resting dramatically on the table.

Gray had won. Again.

"Y-You're still a monster at this!" Izuku groaned. "T-This isn't even a game for you, it's a psychological warfare!"

Itsuka stifled a laugh, gently patting Izuku's shoulder. "At least you lasted longer than last time."

"I didn't last longer! I just died slower!"

Gray blinked, looking at his two friends with a subtle tilt of his head. "...I was holding back."

Izuku nearly fell out of his chair.

"Y-You were what?!"

Itsuka smiled and shook her head. "This is definitely how we're spending our Sunday, huh?"

Izuku groaned again, pressing his forehead against the table. "I-I can't keep getting destroyed like this. This is bullying."

Ethan strolled into the room carrying a tray of tea and snacks, his metallic tone chipper. "Another Uno massacre, Master Midoriya?"

"Ethan, please don't make it worse..."

"You brought this upon yourself, sir," the robot butler replied smoothly, placing a cup in front of him. "Challenging Master Gray to a contest of logic and precision was a miscalculation, if I may say so."

Gray merely sipped his own tea in silence, as if what had occurred was the most natural outcome in the world. He didn't even look particularly proud of his victory, just neutral. Always neutral.

"See? Even the robot agrees with me," Izuku muttered as he reached for a biscuit in slow defeat.

Itsuka giggled. "Come on, Midoriya. You'll get him next time."

"I've been saying that since the first game..." he mumbled, reaching for a biscuit in slow, bitter defeat.

RRRRIIIING!

Suddenly, the manor's antique landline phone let out a sharp ring that echoed through the vast living space.

Ethan gave a small bow. "Ah. Do not trouble yourselves. I shall answer it."

As the robot exited the room with precise strides, Izuku lifted his head just enough to see the cards. "Okay, okay...one more round. I'll win this time. I can feel it."

"Statistically speaking," Gray said, calmly shuffling the cards, "the odds are not in your favor."

"C'mon, Kishimi-san! Can you at least pretend I have a chance?!"

"I can lie, if that helps."

"Please don't."

As they continued their game, Ethan strode toward the wall-mounted phone, lifting the receiver with grace.

"Kishimi residence. How may I help you?" He answered the phone. Then he heard a familiar voice. "Ah, Miss Niijima. For what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" He began conversing with the person on the other end of the line. "Yes, I see. Indeed, Master Gray does have a lesson appointed today at Musutafu's Enterprise Headquarters. I had nearly forgotten. Thank you for the reminder. I shall inform him at once."

Click.

Ethan returned to the trio, folding his hands behind his back. "Master Gray, it appears your appointment with Madam Niijima is still scheduled for today. She awaits you at the company headquarters."

Gray's expression changed just slightly, something between nervousness and resolve. An unusual sight for his friends. "...I see. Thank you, Ethan."

He looked at his cards for a moment longer, then quietly placed them down.

"I suppose I should prepare," he muttered, rising from his seat.

Izuku and Kendo looked up, assuming that meant the game (and the day) was over.

But then, unexpectedly, Gray turned to face them.

"You two...would you like to come with me?"

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Izuku blinked. "...Wait. What?"

Gray looked mildly awkward, hands in his pockets, averting eye contact. "To the company building. You've been here often enough. I see no reason not to include you."

"Are you...inviting us?" Kendo asked, clearly unsure if she'd heard right.

"I...am," Gray said.

Another pause.

Izuku and Kendo both suddenly leaned back, eyes wide.

"WHAAAAAAT?!" they shouted in unison.

"Master Gray..." Ethan said, eye flashing a soft blue, "...inviting friends? Out and not just to his manor? Marking the calendar now."

Izuku stumbled to his feet. "W-We get to see Kishimi Enterprises?! The real building?!"

Gray gave a small nod. "Yes."

Izuku and Itsuka exchanged a look.

A building owned by a trillionaire, for one of the most powerful multi-national corporations in the world. It was overwhelming, and yet, the fact that Gray had actually invited them made it impossible to say no.

Izuku's jaw dropped. "B-But that's, like, one of the biggest multi-national tech companies in the world! You develop gear for pro heroes and social infrastructure for the public sector and all kinds of other cutting-edge—wait, are we allowed in there?!"

"I see no reason why not," Ethan added smoothly. " So long as you do not attempt to dismantle the AI security systems, tamper with proprietary technology or cause a disturbance, you will be most welcome. Miss Niijima is a kind lady, I assure you. Besides, it might do you all some good to see a more grounded side of Master Gray's life."

Itsuka, still processing, rubbed her temples. "We really went from Uno to...walking into a corporate tower that probably has a literal red carpet." She chuckled exasperatedly. "This is gonna be insane."

Izuku, meanwhile, clutched his teacup like a lifeline. "I-I can already feel the financial inferiority creeping back in..."

Ethan offered a hand to help him up. "You'll get used to it, sir."

"That settles it then," Gray said firmly, standing. "We'll depart in twenty minutes. I'd prefer if we all dressed professionally, or at the very least, appropriately. You're free to use the wardrobes. Pick whatever formal attire you like."

Izuku and Itsuka glanced at each other, wide-eyed.

"R-Right," Izuku muttered, already imagining suits that probably cost more than his apartment.

Itsuka let out a low whistle. "Your wardrobe is a room, isn't it?"

"It has walls and contains clothing," Gray replied, genuinely confused by the implication. "That qualifies as a room, yes."

The two friends exchanged a looks. Equal parts nervous and excited, their sense of financial inferiority already creeping back.

Then Gray turned to Itsuka. "Although...I do not have any clothing designed for girls. I'll order some now. You'll just have to choose from the options I send you."

He calmly pulled out his phone and began swiping through high-end fashion catalogs like he was ordering takeout.

Itsuka panicked. "W-Wait! K-Kishimi-kun, you don't have to do that! I've got formal clothes back at home! I can just-"

"No need, Master Gray," Ethan chimed in smoothly. "I've already taken care of it."

Gray paused mid-swipe. "...When?"

"The moment you brought a girl home, sir." Ethan replied matter-of-factly, setting down a tablet on the nearby table with a list of designer outfit selections tailored to Itsuka's measurements.

Gray's eyes narrowed. "...Excuse me?"

Izuku choked on air.

Itsuka's face flushed red. "W-Wait! I-It's not like that! I'm not his—!"

"Relax, madam," Ethan said, his mechanical tone somehow still smug. "I simply believe in being prepared. That is all."

Gray looked between them, completely stone-faced. Although there the smallest hint of annoyance when his brow twitched. "...You did all this because she's female?"

"Precisely," Ethan said. "You only invite two people over. Statistically, it was bound to happen eventually. I merely prepared accordingly."

The two friends stepped out of the changing rooms at nearly the same time, tugging nervously at the edges of their expensive formalwear.

Izuku fidgeted with the collar of his sleek dark green dress shirt, the fabric far softer and smoother than anything he'd ever worn before. "T-This suit probably costs more than our entire apartment..."

Itsuka, dressed in a sharp navy-blue blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt and blazer, sighed. "Yeah. This is definitely not how I expected today to go."

They didn't get much time to linger in their spiraling financial inferiority, however—not when Gray walked in a few seconds later.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, accented with a slate-gray tie and dark silver cufflinks. His usually gray untamed hair had been combed back with striking precision, revealing more of his sharp features. His posture, already formal by default, seemed somehow even more composed in that attire, like he was made for this kind of image.

Itsuka blinked. Her thoughts froze. Her face grew noticeably red.

"...Are you alright?" Gray asked, tilting his head slightly at the sight of Itsuka's face. "Your face is flushed. Is the temperature too warm?"

"I—! N-No, I'm fine!" Itsuka blurted out, waving her hand quickly and looking anywhere but at him. "Totally fine. Just...caught off guard. That's all."

Izuku, who was still adjusting his tie with fumbling fingers, looked over at her with wide eyes. Then at Gray. Then back at her.

"Oh," he said quietly. "Ohhh."

Itsuka turned to him with a warning glare. "Not. A. Word."

Gray blinked again, completely oblivious. "I fail to understand what's happening."

"Of course you do," Itsuka and Izuku said in unison with a shared sigh.

As if wearing clothes that probably had more digits on their price tags than their parents' bank accounts wasn't overwhelming enough, things escalated further the moment Ethan gestured politely toward the front entrance.

"Your vehicle awaits, Masters Gray, Midoriya, and Miss Kendo." the robot butler announced, motioning with a graceful sweep of his arm.

Behind him, parked just outside the polished stone entrance, was a sleek, black limousine. Polished to perfection. Chrome wheels glinting. Windows tinted. The full VIP experience.

Both Izuku and Itsuka froze.

"Th-That's...a limo," Izuku muttered, his jaw slowly dropping.

"An actual limousine," Itsuka echoed, her voice climbing in disbelief. "With the tinted windows and the...sparkly wheels and everything—!"

Izuku leaned in slightly. "Yeah. I've known about it for a while now. Ethan always offers it to take me home after training."

"...WHAT?!" she wheezed, staring at him. "And you never used it?!"

"I-I panicked, okay?!" Izuku flailed. "D-Do you know how awkward it would be getting dropped off in a limousine outside an average run-of-the-mil apartment complex?! My mom would implode!"

Itsuka gave him a blank look, then looked back at the vehicle with a slow shake of her head. "We're about to ride in this. This is our life now."

They slowly entered the limo like two condemned souls being ushered into a velvet-draped abyss.

"I-I don't know if I can sit in there without feeling like I'm committing a crime," Itsuka muttered nervously, fidgeting in his seat.

Gray soon slid in with all the casual confidence of someone who'd done this a thousand times, which he had. "You're overthinking it. Just sit tight."

Itsuka looked to Izuku. "Well. Guess we're doing this."

Izuku sighed, gripping his tie. "Yup. One crisis of self-worth at a time."

As the limousine pulled away from the manor gates, Izuku and Itsuka sat side by side, dramatically slumped in their seats, staring at the ceiling.

Izuku looked around and saw it all. Plush leather seating, ambient lighting, chilled bottled drinks, and a tablet embedded in the armrest.

"Midoriya..." Itsuka said flatly, staring into the void. "Do you ever think we made a mistake befriending a trillionaire?"

Izuku gave a weary sigh. "Only every time we walk into his house..."

Gray, seated across from them, glanced up from a sleek tablet and raised a brow. "You two appear distressed. Is the temperature inside the vehicle unsatisfactory?"

"NO," they answered in perfect unison, anime-style despair lines practically radiating off their faces.

Ethan, from the front, spoke calmly through the intercom. "Do try to enjoy the ride. The luxury sound system and beverage options are at your disposal."

Both teens groaned, sinking further into the leather seats, consumed by the crushing weight of being financial outclassed...and maybe just a tiny bit of awe.

"I don't give a fuck, old hag! Just pick whatever school you want!" Katsuki barked from across the living room, arms crossed, scowl deep.

Mitsuki's eyebrow twitched. "Don't give me that shit, brat! Just because it's your last term doesn't mean you get to coast through it!"

Masaru, ever the peacemaker, tried to chime in. "Now, now—let's just talk about this—"

"SHUT UP, OLD MAN!"

Mitsuki's hands were on her hips as she glared at her son. "Middle school matters too, dumbass! What if UA takes your record into account?"

"They won't. I'm gonna crush their exam no matter what middle school I'm in." Katsuki turned, storming toward his room. "I'm not wasting my time with some random school! Just sign me up for whatever!"

SLAM.

Mitsuki growled under her breath, then rubbed her temples. "Little bastard's gonna give me a stroke one day..."

Masaru quietly gathered the brochure. "Should I... call around for other schools?"

Mitsuki waved him off and pulled out her phone. "I'm calling Inko. Maybe she knows a decent school near here."

Elsewhere – The Midoriya Apartment

Inko hummed peacefully to herself as she dried the last dish, the kitchen warm and full of afternoon light. Her heart was lighter today.

Izuku had told her that he wasn't heading out for training (even if she herself still has some conflicting thoughts about that) but just to hang out at Gray's place.

That alone had made her smile. After all these years, after all that pain, her baby boy had finally found good friends. Real friends. She could see the change in him. He was growing to be more brighter, more confident, even if still the same nervous chatterbox.

Gray Kishimi may have been a little odd, but she could tell he was kind. Respectful. And most importantly, he treated her son with the dignity and compassion he'd always deserved.

'Much better than Katsuki...' she thought, frowning slightly at the comparison.

Although she couldn't help but feel as if Kishimi's name sounded familiar, but can't place her finger to how.

She looked at her microwave beside her who's company it came from was sponsored by a popular corporation; 'Kishimi Enterprises.'

She blinked as she connected the dots but shook her head in disbelief.

'Nah! Couldn't be! Gotta be a coincidence!' She tells herself.

Her phone suddenly buzzed. She checked the caller ID: Mitsuki Bakugou.

Inko raised an eyebrow but answered.

"Hey, Mitsuki!"

"Inko! Hey! It's been a while, huh? I'm losing my mind here. That brat won't cooperate at all, and Aldera getting shut down has only made it worse—"

The two women caught up briefly like old friends, though Inko's smile faltered the moment Katsuki came up.

"Oh? So he's still acting up..." Inko's voice turned quieter, but there was a weight behind her tone that made Mitsuki pause. "I...have something to talk to you about, Mitsuki."

"Huh?"

"I've been quiet for long enough," Inko said, her voice sharpening with an edge Mitsuki hadn't heard in years. "We need to talk. In person."

"I-In person?" Mitsuki blinked. "What is this about—?"

"I'll be at your place in an hour."

Click.

Mitsuki stared at her phone, stunned.

A cold sweat formed on her temple.

"...Oh shit."

She had known Inko Midoriya since they were teenagers. She'd seen her calm, shy, and soft-spoken. But when she used that tone?

It meant hell was coming.

Mitsuki gulped, staring at her son's closed door.

"...Katsuki... what the fuck did you do?"

The limousine came to a slow, graceful stop before a towering structure of gleaming steel and glass, its sheer presence radiating wealth, power, and professionalism.

The moment the doors opened and the trio stepped out onto the pavement, both Izuku and Itsuka froze.

"...Whoa," Izuku murmured, eyes wide as dinner plates.

Itsuka slowly tilted her head up... and up...and up as the sun gleamed off the impossibly tall building that bore the name KISHIMI ENTERPRISES in polished silver across the front.

Gray, standing beside them in full formal attire, simply looked at the building as if it were any other.

Ethan, ever the punctual chauffeur, drove off smoothly to find parking, the sound of the engine fading behind them.

Meanwhile, Izuku's hands trembled slightly at his sides. "I-I knew you were rich, but I-I still can't believe you're corporate empire rich..."

Countless professionals in expensive suits walked in and out of the rotating glass doors with purposeful strides. Secretaries typed rapidly on holographic tablets. Security guards in sharp uniforms scanned IDs at the door.

Itsuka's face had gone pale.

Izuku's pupils were shaking.

"...This has got to be the craziest day I've ever had," Itsuka muttered, still gawking.

"Y-Yeah," Izuku nodded slowly. "I feel like I accidentally stepped into someone else's life...l-like I'm dreaming. This is a dream, right?"

"Please tell me I'm not gonna pass out again..." Itsuka added, gripping Izuku's sleeve.

Gray turned to look at his friends, expression unreadable. "We should head inside. Our appointment is in ten minutes."

He began walking forward.

Izuku and Itsuka remained frozen in place for another few seconds before their souls practically left their bodies in exaggerated anime fashion.

"WE'RE NOT READY FOR THIS LEVEL OF LUXURY!" Izuku and Itsuka shouted at the same time, slumping to the ground like puddles of inferiority.

Gray paused, turned back, and blinked in confusion. "...Are you two alright?"

Itsuka groaned. "I don't think my soul can afford to be in this building."

Izuku shakily stood up. "A-At this point, I'm just accepting the fact that you're secretly royalty."

Gray looked genuinely puzzled. "Royalty? No. That's an entirely different political system."

Itsuka sighed, dragging herself up by Izuku's arm. "Yup. That tracks. Let's just go in before I pass out again."

The two of them straightened their posture and followed Gray toward the glass entrance.

As the automated doors whooshed open and the trio stepped inside, they were met with polished marble floors, chrome-paneled walls, and the subtle scent of lavender diffused through the air vents. Receptionists gave polite bows, and businessmen glanced curiously at the young guests following close behind the heir of the company.

Gray simply strode forward like he belonged there.

Because he did.

Izuku leaned closer to Itsuka and whispered, "Y-You think we'll survive this?"

"I think this is what dying and entering a rich afterlife feels like," she replied in a daze.

The trio stepped into the atrium of Kishimi Enterprises HQ and were immediately enveloped by an atmosphere of quiet authority and polished luxury.

The floors shimmered with obsidian-black marble, faint veins of blue tracing through it like lightning. Glass elevators ascended in smooth silence through a towering central column. Sleek holographic panels hovered above check-in stations, their translucent displays scrolling through digital maps, business reports, and real-time international broadcasts.

The gentle hum of technology mingled with the precise clicks of dress shoes on marble. It felt less like a corporate office and more like a command center from the future.

Izuku leaned toward Itsuka, his voice trembling. "T-This place looks like it could launch a spaceship..."

"I feel underdressed and overdressed at the same time," Itsuka muttered, still wide-eyed. "Even the plants look expensive."

They didn't get much longer to process it.

From down the hallway, a tall woman approached, clipboard in hand, heels clicking with practiced grace, her admittedly voluptuous body swaying with professional suave.

She was stunning.

Long chestnut hair flowed in a high ponytail, tied with a simple, professional ribbon. She had a graceful figure accentuated by her tailored navy business suit and heels that made her even more imposing. Her mature face was framed by elegant cheekbones and calm, calculating brown eyes that sparkled with amusement at the sight of the three teens.

Atop her head were two small, curved horns. Probably related to her quirk, Izuku immediately noted.

"Mr. Kishimi," she said with a warm, knowing smile. "You're right on time."

Gray gave a polite nod. "Ms. Niijima."

Lucy Niijima turned her eyes toward Izuku and Itsuka.

"You must be the friends Mr. Kishimi finally told me about," she said, her soft voice laced with subtle mischief. "He actually invited people out of his manor. I nearly fainted when Ethan informed me."

"Ms. Niijima..." Gray muttered under his breath, lightly narrowing his eyes.

Lucy paid him no mind and turned her attention to the visitors.

"My name is Lucy Niijima. I'm the business manager of Kishimi Enterprises. It's a pleasure to meet both of you."

"I-I'm Midoriya! I-I mean, Izuku Midoriya!" the green-haired boy stammered, cheeks ablaze. "I-It's an honor, Miss Niijima—Nij—Niijima-san!"

He practically bowed into a right angle. Talking to women, especially attractive ones, in general had never been his strong suit.

Itsuka, meanwhile, raised a brow. Even she was caught off-guard by the woman's beauty. "...Wow," she muttered without thinking.

Lucy chuckled kindly. "You're both adorable. And you must be Itsuka Kendo. Mr. Kishimi mentioned you."

"He has?" she blinked in surprise. She glanced at Gray, who gave the faintest of coughs and immediately looked away.

Lucy turned to the group. "Since it's your first time here, and a special occasion at that, why don't I give you a brief tour before we begin Gray's lesson?"

"Lesson?" Izuku asked.

Gray responded plainly. "Business management. Every Sunday."

"Ah. I see." Itsuka simply said.

The tour commenced.

Lucy guided them through the core facilities of the HQ; Its innovation labs, support gear R&D departments, strategy offices, and even a hero tech integration division. Everywhere they turned, professionals in lab coats or suits were respectfully nodding at Gray's presence.

Izuku and Itsuka were awestruck.

The architecture alone was enough to make them feel like they had stepped into a sci-fi movie. Touchscreen tables that responded to spoken commands. Quirk-enhancing gear being tested in high-tech chambers. Armored drones being debugged in floating holograms. At one point, an employee passed by and after reported his work and progress, in the end excitedly and passionately yelled:

"WE LOVE YOU, MS. NIIJIMA!!"

Both Izuku and Itsuka were completely thrown off and flustered by an unexpected love confession. Lucy didn't break stride. "Thank you, gentlemen. Back to work, please."

"YES, MA'AM!"

She gave a small, amused sigh. "They do that sometimes."

Izuku, still blushing, tried not to look at her for too long. He felt similarly as to how he saw the R-Rated hero, Midnight the first time. "I-I can see why..."

Soon, the tour came to a halt in front of a sleek, brushed-steel door.

"This is where I'll be conducting Mr. Kishimi's business training today," Lucy explained. She turned to Gray with a light smirk. "That is, assuming you're not too distracted by the fact that your friends are here now."

Gray frowned lightly. "I am perfectly capable of focusing."

Izuku and Itsuka, both still absorbing the tour, blinked and whispered to each other.

"Do you think we'll survive another hour in this place?" Izuku asked.

"I dunno," Itsuka replied, "but I'm starting to think Gray Kishimi isn't just rich. He might be secretly running the economy." She dryly joked.

Gray glanced back at them. "I heard that."

They flinched.

Turning fully to face them now, Gray spoke in his usual calm, matter-of-fact voice. "I'll be in the meeting room with Ms. Niijima for about an hour. You're free to explore the building in the meantime—just don't cause a disturbance."

Izuku and Itsuka blinked in unison.

"Wait—explore?" Izuku repeated. "Y-You mean, we're allowed to just...wander around?"

"Yes," Gray said, nodding. "If you prefer something more leisurely, there's also a gaming room and an arcade on the third floor."

"...There's an arcade?" Itsuka echoed, raising a brow in confusion. "In this place?"

Gray gestured down the hall with the casual air of someone giving directions to a vending machine. "It's near the children's play center. It was installed for 'bring-your-child-to-work' days. Apparently, it improves employee morale and productivity."

Izuku and Itsuka just stared at him, baffled.

"And if you get lost," Gray added, "you can use one of the interactive guide terminals." He pointed to a nearby sleek pedestal where a glowing holographic interface hovered, rotating slowly in the air.

The two friends stood silently, still digesting the idea that this mega-corporate high-tech HQ had a functioning arcade.

Gray turned to leave, adding over his shoulder, "Just don't touch the restricted labs or enter any restricted places. Or any of the sattelite-testing sectors."

"THOSE EXIST?!" Izuku cried, now visibly overwhelmed.

Gray simply walked away.

The moment Gray disappeared down one of the glass-paneled hallways, Izuku and Itsuka were left standing in the center of the vast, pristine walkways—still trying to process everything.

"This is just one of the buildings...?" Itsuka muttered, looking up at the towering atrium ceiling, which stretched several stories high and was crowned with a massive skylight that bathed the lobby in natural light.

"Y-Yeah..." Izuku replied, equally stunned. "One out of...how many? I think I read somewhere that Kishimi Enterprises has branches in more than twelve countries."

"I don't know what's more insane," she said, turning slowly in place to take in the marble floors, polished chrome elevators, and holographic directories, "the fact that he owns this place...or the fact that he's still somehow the most socially awkward person I've ever met."

Izuku chuckled sheepishly. "Y-Yeah. Even when he's wearing a three-piece suit, he still talks like he's issuing military orders..."

They wandered toward one of the tablet stations Gray had pointed out. The interactive screen lit up with a soft chime, displaying a detailed map of the entire building.

"Let's see..." Itsuka tapped the screen. "Third floor: Employee lounge, arcade, gaming room...wow, he wasn't kidding."

"Th-there's even a relaxation pod room and a rooftop zen garden..." Izuku added, pointing with trembling fingers. "T-this place is ridiculous."

They shared a glance, half amazed and half overwhelmed.

Itsuka slumped slightly, hands on her hips. "I used to think my cousin's internship at a TV studio was cool. This makes that look like a corner store."

Izuku nodded slowly, then muttered, "I feel financially inferior just standing here."

Itsuka raised a hand solemnly. "Rest in peace, my self-esteem."

Izuku raised his hand and high-fived hers with equal solemnity.

Then, after a beat, Itsuka perked up. "Wanna check out the arcade? I could use a distraction from the crushing awareness of our economic standing."

Izuku nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, please."

And with that, the two teenagers began wandering around one of the world's most powerful corporations like they were just a couple of tourists.

Gray watched the elevator doors slide shut behind Izuku and Itsuka, his expression unreadable as always. Yet, for just a fleeting moment, something lingered in his eyes—something Lucy Niijima caught immediately.

"Well, well," Lucy's voice chimed playfully as she walked into the sleek conference room, a leather folder tucked under one arm. "Look at you, Mr. Kishimi. I swear, you're looking...dare I say...content today."

Gray exhaled slowly through his nose as he turned toward her. "Emotion reading quirks should be illegal in business."

Lucy grinned knowingly as she closed the distance, placing the folder neatly on the polished table. "You're lucky mine doesn't read minds. You'd be in serious trouble."

"I'm already in serious trouble," he muttered dryly. "Running this company will guarantee that."

"But you're not running it alone," Lucy reminded gently, gesturing toward the plush seat across from hers. "And besides, I think you've finally found a reason to stop glaring at the entire world."

Gray hesitated for a moment, brows furrowing slightly.

It was true. He had been more...expressive lately. More reactive. Less of the stoic machine and child super-soldier Erebus Institute tried to carve him into. Was it Izuku? Kendo? Ethan's relentless insistence on 'being more human'? Or had the emotional shell he thought was stripped away really never left him at all because of his mother?

Gray didn't answer her this time. He just pulled out the chair, sat down stiffly, and muttered, "Let's just begin."

Lucy chuckled softly. "Still brooding, huh?"

"Not brooding," he replied flatly. "I'm simply focused."

"That's what brooding people say." She flipped open the folder and tapped the first page. "Alright then, today's lesson: Expansion and delegation. If you ever want this company to survive beyond your name, you'll need more than money. You'll need people you can trust."

Gray tilted his head. "I trust very few people."

Lucy gave him a knowing look. "You trust two. That's already better than when you trusted zero. So we're making progress."

Gray scowled, only for Lucy to smile again and move on. "Right. Let's get started."

Lucy tapped a sleek glass panel at the center of the table, and the lights dimmed slightly as a large screen flickered to life behind her. A minimalist logo appeared: KISHIMI ENTERPRISES in bold, silver letters, beneath which read: Innovation. Protection. Progress.

"Let's begin with a review," Lucy said, folding her hands on the table in front of her. "Gray, what is Kishimi Enterprises?"

Gray sighed like a student in homeroom. "A multinational conglomerate specializing in advanced technology, hero support gear, public infrastructure systems, and strategic defense contracts."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Very textbook. But not wrong."

The screen behind her began rotating through images: futuristic-looking hero support items, sleek drones flying over city streets, medical technology, and diagrams of energy grids.

"Kishimi Enterprises is one of the five largest technology-based corporations in the world. It operates in over thirty countries, with headquarters not just here in Musutafu, but in cities like Osaka, Seoul, Berlin, and Toronto." She pointed toward a rotating 3D globe that appeared next. "We started as a private research lab under your grandfather during the post-quirk emergence era. Since then, we've evolved into a juggernaut spanning three primary sectors."

Gray sat up straighter.

"First," Lucy continued, "we provide support technology—everything from prosthetic limbs and mobility aids for civilians to cutting-edge hero gear, specialized suits, combat analytics, and quirk-enhancing tools. Nearly 20% of current active pro heroes use Kishimi support items in some way."

Gray nodded. "And we own most of the patents for modular adaptability tech. That was your idea, wasn't it?"

Lucy smirked. "Flattery won't get you out of your written work later."

She clicked again.

"Second: public systems and infrastructure. Kishimi Enterprises helped build the digital backbone of dozens of cities. Traffic regulation AIs, hospital diagnostics, emergency alert systems—hell, our software even helps manage Mustafu's storm drain protocols during flood seasons."

Gray muttered, "That explains the Hero Public Safety Commission contract from last quarter."

"Correct." Lucy looked pleased. "And third...our most controversial wing. Private defense contracting." The screen now showed drones, armored vehicles, and advanced non-lethal weaponry.

"We work with hero agencies and government security forces to develop crowd control systems, reconnaissance bots, and AI threat detection software. None of it meant for militarization. But there are always eyes watching us because of that." Her voice became more serious now. "It's the division most tainted by your father's regime. Cleaning it up has been...difficult."

Gray looked down slightly at that. He didn't say anything.

"As you remember," Lucy began, her tone even but firm, "after your father's arrest, the company was placed into a temporary freeze by government regulators. Accounts were locked. Operations halted. Stock prices nosedived. People believed it would collapse entirely."

She tapped her tablet and brought up a slide: Formerly: Kishimi Healthcare.

"The original name was Kishimi Healthcare. Your grandfather founded it with the intention of providing advanced biotech solutions, particularly for post-quirk medical adaptation. But under your father...it became something else. Overfunded, overmilitarized. It lost its soul."

Gray's eyes narrowed slightly, listening intently.

"I knew the name had to change," Lucy continued. "Not just for rebranding purposes, but because it no longer stood for care, it stood for control. So I pushed to restructure. To rebuild. Kishimi Enterprises was born not just as a company, but as a promise. A symbol that we could be more."

She looked up at Gray, her eyes softening slightly.

"I fought tooth and nail to get where I am now. Sleepless nights, boardroom battles, policy rewrites. No favors. No shortcuts. Just grit. And if there's one thing I want you to learn, Mr. Kishimi..." She tapped her chest lightly. "It's that nothing is impossible when your conviction is real."

There was a beat of silence. Then, quietly:

"...Thank you," Gray said.

He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but the words slipped through. His voice was low, but genuine. Because in that moment, he truly understood. Without Lucy's fight, the company, his company, might've died along with the weight of his family's sins.

Lucy blinked. Then smiled gently. "You don't need to thank me, Mr. Kishimi."

Her expression turned a touch more wistful. Maria was someone I was close to, as well.

Gray's eyes flickered briefly, but he said nothing.

Lucy quickly straightened her posture and changed the tone. "Now. Let's begin today's lesson. We'll be covering the company's international holdings, particularly our tech licensing agreements in East Asia. I expect you to take notes."

Gray nodded. "Of course."

The screen shifted again. The lesson resumed.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the towering marvel that was the Musutafu branch of Kishimi Enterprises, Izuku and Itsuka walked side by side down a pristine corridor, the polished floors gleaming beneath their feet. Sleek glass walls revealed glimpses of high-tech laboratories, design workshops, meeting rooms, and employee lounges that looked more like five-star cafes.

"I still can't believe this is a business building," Itsuka muttered, eyes scanning the interior. "It's like a tech company, hospital, hero agency, and a mall all rolled into one."

Izuku nodded, nervously clutching his bag. "Y-Yeah, it's hard to believe this is the kind of thing Gray has to deal with on top of...well, everything else."

The two of them passed an open-floor laboratory behind a large window, where researchers in pristine uniforms worked with complex tech. One of the tables had prototype support items on display, some even resembling hero gauntlets and reinforced armor plating.

"They really do provide hero support gear here," Izuku whispered in awe. "And the designs! Look at that gauntlet! The impact dispersion grid is something I only theorized about in my notebooks!"

Itsuka looked amused. "Should've brought your notebook."

"I always bring my notebook." He raised it like a badge of honor as he pulled out one of his signature notebooks from seemingly out of nowhere.

Itsuka sweat-dropped but chose not to question it.

They eventually arrived at an interactive directory station. Itsuka tapped at it, impressed by the user-friendly interface. "This thing's like a mini-AI assistant."

As the holographic screen came to life, Izuku leaned over. "W-Wanna check out the arcade?"

"Sure," she grinned. "Let's see what Kishimi's definition of 'arcade' is."

As they got there, the automatic doors slid open with a smooth hiss, both Izuku and Itsuka stood frozen at the threshold of the arcade.

"...This is an arcade?!" Izuku exclaimed, eyes wide.

The space was massive! Sleek neon lights curved around the ceiling, glowing softly without being overwhelming. Rows upon rows of the latest high-tech arcade cabinets and VR setups were lined up like a digital battlefield. Holographic racing pods hummed in the back, rhythm games projected pulsing colors onto the walls, and a massive interactive arena in the corner looked like it was built for full-body motion gaming.

Itsuka blinked slowly. "This looks like something out of a sci-fi movie..."

She took a hesitant step forward, still stunned.

"I-I'm not sure how many more surprises I can take today..." she muttered, nearly staggering as another drone zipped past carrying snack trays to nearby lounge stations. "Kishimi-kun's idea of casual is absurd."

Izuku gulped and nodded, equally overwhelmed. "This whole building has better tech than my entire life."

Still, that didn't stop either of them from cautiously walking toward one of the more familiar machines. A classic two-player fighting game with enhanced motion sensors. Izuku reached out and tapped the screen with trembling fingers.

"You...wanna play a round?" he offered with a sheepish grin.

Itsuka, eyes still wide, slowly turned to him and grinned. "Only if you're ready to get destroyed."

"I-It's payback time!" Izuku declared, trying to muster courage only to look around and realize...

"...Wait. Do we...have to pay for tokens or something?"

As if on cue, the machine lit up with a soft chime: Welcome, authorized guest. Enjoy unlimited access.

Itsuka stared blankly at the screen. "...Of course. Because of course that's a thing here."

Izuku laughed nervously. "W-Well, let's enjoy it while we can! I-I'm totally gonna beat you!" He proudly declared, hoping that he'll be good at one video game.

Izuku soon ate his words.

BATTLE OVER – PLAYER 2 WINS.

"Again?!"

Izuku slumped over the arcade machine,  anime despair lines comically trailing down his face. "T-That's loss number nine..."

Itsuka chuckled sheepishly, putting the controller down. "You really gave it your all that time, though."

"Yeah, okay..." Izuku groaned, sliding off his stool and collapsing onto one of the lounge chairs nearby. "Maybe...maybe video games just aren't my thing..."

"You think?" Itsuka teased gently, flopping down beside him.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, letting the cool atmosphere of the arcade wash over them, the soft hum of machines, flickers of holographic light, and a few distant sounds of cheering from other employees enjoying their breaks.

Izuku sighed, resting his head back. "This place is amazing. It's honestly still hard to believe all of this is real."

"I know," Itsuka nodded, equally stunned. "I guess this is what happens when your friend is a trillionaire."

They both glanced around the high-end arcade again. Simultaneously, the thought crossed their minds: 'I guess this is the benefit of being friends with a rich kid...'

Then, Itsuka turned to him, propping her head on her hand. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask, Midoriya. What school do you go to?"

Izuku blinked, caught off guard. "Oh, uh...I used to go to Aldera Junior High..."

"Used to?" Itsuka echoed, tilting her head until the realization hit her.

"Wait-! Aldera?! That's the school that got shut down last week! The one all over the news?!"

"Y-Yeah," Izuku laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "That was...my school."

Itsuka's jaw dropped. "And you're just casually saying that?!"

Izuku looked away awkwardly. "Well...it's a long story, but, uh...Gray kind of made that happen."

"He what?!"

"I mean...not like that!" Izuku waved his arms defensively. "He told me he just...dug up the truth, exposed it all to the pros, and had a little help. And now he's helping me transfer somewhere else."

Itsuka slowly sat back in stunned silence. "So he's rich, owns a multi-national tech and business company, has a robot butler with emotions as his guardian, a hidden underground training base, is basically a pro-level fighter...and he orchestrated the takedown of an entire corrupt school?"

Izuku nodded with a small, exhausted smile. "Yeah. That's Gray Kishimi for you."

"...You know what?" Itsuka exhaled, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. "I don't think I'm capable of being surprised anymore."

Itsuka spoke once again. "So, how did you meet Kishimi-kun, Midoriya?" She asked, leaning back in her seat with a small smile. "I met him at his dojo."

Izuku blinked in surprise. "R-Really? Like, Raven Dojo?" His eyes widened. "I train there too!"

"Huh? No way," Itsuka chuckled. "How come I've never seen you?"

"Maybe different schedules?" Izuku offered, tilting his head thoughtfully. "When do you usually go?"

"Just Saturdays," she replied casually. "Kishimi-kun usually lets me drop in then."

Izuku stared at her. "J-Just Saturday?"

Now she looked surprised. "Yeah. Why?"

"I-I usually train with Gray there the whole week...!"

Itsuka's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?" She gave an incredulous laugh. "Man, he's got you on the premium package, huh?"

"You don't have to tell me twice..." Izuku groaned, slumping in his seat a little. "He had me doing pushups on my knuckles over gravel on the third day."

"Yikes," Itsuka winced. "That does sound like him. He doesn't really have an 'off' switch, huh?"

"Nope." Izuku nodded gravely. "I'm pretty sure if Ethan didn't remind him to let me rest or eat, I'd still be doing laps around the manor."

They both laughed at that, the shared understanding of Gray's over-the-top seriousness bringing them closer together.

"But," Izuku added with a softer smile, "he means well. He really does. Just...doesn't always know how to show it."

Itsuka nodded in agreement. "Yeah. He's blunt, awkward, emotionally constipated, and still somehow intimidating even when he's just standing still...but I dunno. He's real. You can tell."

There was a pause, both of them reflecting quietly on the boy they'd both come to know in different ways.

"I think..." Izuku started, then hesitated before continuing. "I think he's still trying to figure out how to be...normal. How to connect. But he's trying. And that's more than most."

Itsuka smiled warmly at that. "Well, lucky for him, he's got two friends who'll keep pulling him out of that broody shell."

"Y-Yeah..." Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. He paused, trying to come up with a way to explain things without revealing why he was training so hard—without mentioning One For All or All Might.

"A-Anyway, to answer your question, um...Kishimi-san actually came to me first."

Itsuka blinked. "Wait, what? Gray Kishimi approached you?"

Izuku nodded nervously.

"The emotionally constipated, socially clueless, 'I-speak-in-paragraphs' Gray Kishimi actually initiated conversation with someone?!" she asked dramatically, gesturing with both hands like she was trying to illustrate the rarity of such an event.

"I-I know, I was just as shocked," Izuku laughed. "It was back when I was training to clean up Takobah Beach. You know, that place filled with trash and junk? I-I'm cleaning that up tos hape up mu body for the upcoming U.A entrance exam."

"Wait—Takobah Beach? The dumpster beach?" Itsuka gawked. "You're actually cleaning that place?! By yourself?!"

"I'm, uh...over halfway through now," Izuku said sheepishly, fiddling with his fingers. "Still got a ways to go, though..."

There was a pause before Itsuka gave a low whistle and leaned back with an impressed grin.

"...Man, my friends are amazing."

Izuku blinked, then blushed furiously, looking away as he muttered, "T-Thanks..."

Itsuka smirked a little, clearly enjoying how flustered he got. "What? It's true. First I find out one of my friends owns a multinational company and fights like he's straight out of an action movie, and now I find out the other is cleaning up a garbage dumpster beach like it's a one-man training arc."

Izuku chuckled bashfully, scratching his cheek. "I-It kind of is..."

She leaned forward with a warm look in her eyes. "Well, for what it's worth...I think it's pretty awesome." Itsuka complemented with a thumbs up, causing Izuku to smile in appreciation.

As they sat side by side, Izuku and Itsuka couldn't help but fall into a contemplative silence.

Their earlier laughter began to fade as thoughts turned toward the one person whose presence, even when absent, somehow lingered.

"...Don't you ever wonder?" Itsuka asked, arms folded as she leaned back against the bench.

"About Kishimi-san?" Izuku blinked. "A-All the time."

They shared a small, mutual chuckle.

"I mean," she continued, "he fights like a seasoned pro. Like he's been doing this his whole life. But he acts like a complete rookie when it comes to just...talking to people. Friends. Jokes. Anything social."

Izuku nodded. "Y-Yeah. He was genuinely confused when I told him we were friends, like that idea never really occurred to him."

"And it probably didn't," Itsuka said softly, her eyes thoughtful. "He's rich, sure. Super rich. But he's not...spoiled. Or snobby. He's just...serious. And distant. Like he's always holding something back."

Izuku stared at the ground, his smile faltering. "I've noticed it too. Whenever anyone brings up his parents...especially his mom, he gets this look in his eyes. Like...sadness and rage at the same time. And he always thinks we're not watching."

They both fell silent, thinking back to the strange puzzle that was Gray Kishimi.

Back when they were little, they'd occasionally hear snippets about the 'Kishimi name'; Headlines, scandals, maybe even the odd adult comment about the family business. But they were too young to care about corporate affairs back then. Too young to understand that the name had once been a shadow of controversy.

Now, though, they were older.

And that shadow clearly still followed their friend.

They didn't want to pry. Gray had been more open lately, but even so, some wounds were easy to sense and harder to heal.

Still...they both couldn't help but wonder just what kind of burden he carried on those shoulders.

Before they could speak again, a low voice cut through the silence like a stealthy jump-scare:

"You two appear to be having a great time. I'm glad."

"AAHH!"

"EEK!"

They both shrieked as Gray seemingly materialized behind them, calm as ever.

"You've got to stop doing that!" Itsuka said, clutching her chest. "You keep popping up like a ghost!"

Gray tilted his head, puzzled. "But I used the elevator and walked over."

"That's not the point!" Izuku whined.

Ignoring the chaos he caused, Gray stepped forward. "Today's lesson with Ms. Niijima was a bit more in-depth than usual. Financial law, shareholder obligations, and upper executive restructuring."

He said this as if it were something totally normal for a teenager to be doing.

Izuku and Itsuka just sweat-dropped and nodded quickly.

"R-Right. Sounds...uh, informative," Itsuka said with an awkward laugh.

"We, er...totally understood all of that," Izuku added, trying not to sweat visibly.

Gray, oblivious to their panic, simply nodded. "Good."

After reuniting, Gray led the two back through a different corridor to take them on another tour. He was showing them the places they hadn't seen before.

"And this," Gray said flatly, "is the auxiliary showroom hallway for miscellaneous product lines—public tech applications not tied to pro-hero support."

"M-Miscellaneous?" Izuku repeated, wide-eyed.

"Correct."

Gray gestured at a display on the wall. Inside a glass case sat what looked like...a mug?

"This is the Kishimi Enterprises Self-Heating Smart Mug," he stated, as though discussing the most serious invention known to man. "It retains internal temperature for up to five hours, adapts to personal taste preference via biometric scan, and comes with a digital assistant voice function."

Itsuka slowly turned to him. "You're kidding."

Gray blinked. "No. Would you like one? Complimentary gifts are customary for guests."

Izuku's jaw dropped. "W-Wait, that's real?!"

Gray nodded. "We also offer a portable, collapsible version with vacuum-seal insulation for mobile work."

'W-Wow...' Itsuka thought, staring at the mug with the kind of reverence one usually reserved for divine relics. 'So when Kishimi Enterprises said they covered all kinds of technology...'

'They meant ALL kinds of technology!' Izuku mentally finished, equally stunned.

They both stood frozen in place.

Gray took their silence as interest. "I'll have Ethan prepare a sample bag," he said calmly, already pulling out his phone.

"N-No, that's okay!" Itsuka waved her hands frantically. "W-We're good! R-Really!"

The entire time, Gray didn't understand what the fuss was about.

After all, to him, this was perfectly normal.

Inko Midoriya stepped through the front door of the Bakugo household. Mitsuki greeted her with a familiar grin, but it faltered the instant Inko gave her a polite smile, one that didn't reach her eyes. Still, she tried to smile despite the anxiety building in her gut. "Hey, Inko."

"Hello, Mitsuki," Inko greeted politely, stepping inside. Although there was a certain etch in her tone that made Mitsuki gulp in fear. She knew that tone. And it was not good news for anyone whom it was directed at.

Katsuki slouched on the couch, arms crossed and scowling until he saw who entered. His eyes widened slightly. "Auntie Inko...?"

Inko gave him a small nod.

She sat briefly for tea, exchanged niceties with Mistuki like old friends. But then Inko set her cup down with a quiet clink, folded her hands in her lap, and looked straight at Mitsuki.

"I love you, Mitsuki. You're one of my dearest friends." Her voice then dropped, steel laced beneath silk. "But now, it's time to get real."

Her voice was low and sharp—like a knife wrapped in silk.

Katsuki, leaning in the doorway, narrowed his eyes. Even Masaru straightened in his seat.

Inko turned toward them all. "I'll get straight to the point," she said. "Katsuki has been severely bullying Izuku."

There was a beat of silence before Mitsuki snapped, "What?!"

Katsuki stiffened.

Masaru's brows shot up in disbelief. "Katsuki...is that true?"

"Wha—No! It's not like that!" Katsuki blurted, trying to stand.

"Oh, really?" Inko's eyes narrowed. "Then I suppose the name 'Deku' doesn't ring a bell?"

The silence that followed was enough of an answer. Masaru's face darkened. "You still call Izuku by that name?" His voice was stern. Cold. "I told you I never wanted to hear it again—not in this house, not anywhere."

"I-It's just a nickname—!"

"It's a slur," Inko snapped. "A cruel nickname you weaponized. Day in and day out. And don't think I don't know how you treated him. How you made him feel worthless just because he didn't have a quirk."

Katsuki's defiance cracked. Guilt twisted behind his eyes, but he said nothing. Auntie Inko was ruthless.

She continued, voice trembling just slightly with restrained emotion. "Every day, my son would come home with burns and bruises. Scorch marks on his arms that he tried to hide. And every day, he'd tell me it was fine—that school was fine, that you were fine." She turned to Mitsuki. "He lied to me, Mitsuki. My son lied to my face to protect your son."

Mitsuki looked stunned. "Inko, I-I didn't know."

"I know," Inko said bitterly. "He didn't want you to know. He wanted you to stay friends with me. Can you imagine how twisted that is? My son suffered in silence to protect a friendship that only brought him pain."

Katsuki couldn't look at her. Or anyone anymore.

"I tried to keep quiet," Inko went on. "Tried to hope the two of you would reconcile. That maybe—just maybe—he'd finally get the friend back he cherished so much."

Her voice trembled. "But it never came. And I watched him cry in silence. I watched my son shatter every time you pushed him down, laughed at him, ignored his pain."

She stood up, now towering over them all in presence if not in height.

Inko inhaled deeply, collecting herself. "But you know what? He's happy now. Genuinely happy, for the first time in a long while. And it's not because of you. It's because of the people who actually see him. Who respect him."

Inko inhaled deeply, collecting herself.

She looked at Katsuki one last time, her eyes unwavering. "And none of that is thanks to you, Katsuki."

The room was silent. The weight of Inko's words hung heavy in the air.

"I didn't come here to tell you how to parent, Mitsuki," Inko said, her tone softening slightly. "That's not my place. But I did come here to tell you what your son has been doing behind your backs."

She turned toward Mitsuki and Masaru. "Because although we're friends...I'm a mother first. And I do not appreciate how Katsuki has treated my son all these years, how he's hurt him, and how neither of you noticed."

Masaru's face was unreadable. Mitsuki bit her lip, clearly shaken. Katsuki, for once, stayed quiet, shoulders stiff.

"Izuku still hasn't told me everything," Inko continued, her voice low. "But I've seen enough. I know enough. And I'm telling you this now because I don't want things to get worse than they already are."

She exhaled through her nose, regaining her composure. "That's all I came to say."

There was a pause. Then, with a slight, offhand shrug, she added, "Oh. And if you're still debating what school to transfer Katsuki to, I recommend any that focuses on discipline. Might do him some good."

Inko turned to leave. She reached the door, but paused, just long enough for her final words to carry weight.

Her voice dropped to a low, razor-sharp tone. "But, I suggest you listen to these words very carefully, Katsuki." She looked Katsuki dead in the eyes.

 "If you even dare to ever hurt my son again...there will be consequences."

She looked Katsuki dead in the eyes.

And for the first time in...perhaps, ever, Katsuki Bakugou, the boy who always barked, exploded, and roared, froze.

Because the way Auntie Inko looked at him in that moment?

It genuinely scared him.

With that, Inko quietly closed the door behind her.

The Bakugou household was left in stunned silence.

Izuku and Itsuka slumped on the nearest ultra-modern sofa in the upper floor lounge of the Kishimi Enterprises HQ, faces pale and souls visibly floating from their bodies.

Itsuka leaned back, a hand over her forehead. "I'm not sure how many more surprises my brain can process today..."

Izuku let out a weak groan. "M-My legs are still shaking. I don't even remember how many rooms we passed. Why does one floor have a koi pond?!"

"I think I blacked out at the in-office spa," Itsuka mumbled.

Gray stood before them with his arms crossed, his expression blank. "...I fail to understand. Was the experience unpleasant?"

Both Izuku and Itsuka flinched upright, waving their hands frantically.

"N-No!" Izuku stammered. "It was amazing! Really! Too amazing! T-That's the problem!"

"We're just... not used to this kind of lifestyle," Itsuka added, sweat-dropping. "My entire house could fit in your company's janitor closet..."

He tilted his head slightly. "I see..."

Gray, still not fully grasping the concept of emotional overload, tilted his head. "If the mug wasn't what you desired, then...perhaps an electric air perfume, courtesy of Kishimi Enterprises?" He produced a small chrome device from his coat and held it out to them like he was offering a rare gem.

Izuku and Itsuka blinked in horror.

"What even is that?!" Izuku sputtered.

"Wait, wait—why does that exist?!" Itsuka choked out.

"It uses ionized fragrance dispersion and adjusts based on the ambient mood," Gray explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It also functions as a room humidifier and can sync with most home security systems."

Itsuka pointed an accusatory finger. "You're telling me your company makes fancy humidifier-perfume hybrids that sync with security alarms?!"

Gray gave a small shrug. "Yes."

Itsuka slumped again. "...At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if you guys actually made a Kishimi Enterprises-branded shark repellent or something."

Gray paused. "...Actually."

"No." Izuku's eyes widened.

"No way." Itsuka paled.

Gray looked slightly away. "...It was a prototype. Marine division R&D. Market testing in Okinawa."

Both Izuku and Itsuka screamed internally.

As the day wound down, Gray looked between the two sitting across from him in the lounge area.

"If you want," he began, "you're welcome to stay longer."

Itsuka sat up and stretched with a tired laugh. "I think my heart can only take so many more surprises. Probably best we head home while our brains are still intact."

Izuku nodded in agreement, looking around as if still unsure whether all of this had really happened.

Gray simply gave a small nod and pulled out his phone. "Ethan, ready the car. We'll be heading out."

Within minutes, the trio stepped into one of the tall, glass elevators at the center of the building. The sun was beginning to dip over the Musutafu skyline, casting everything in a golden hue as the city stretched wide beneath them.

Izuku and Itsuka leaned slightly forward to admire the view, awe clear in their eyes.

"Wow," Itsuka breathed.

"This is...amazing," Izuku added quietly.

But behind them, Gray stood still.

Silent.

As the elevator began to descend slowly, Gray's gaze didn't move from the window, though he wasn't truly seeing what was in front of him.

His mind drifted elsewhere.

He remembered cold lights. Grey, lifeless walls. Sparring mats soaked in blood, sometimes his own. The blank faces of scientists at Erebus Institute. The pain of being struck for hesitating. The punishments for failing to detach. His father was no better.

The voice of his mother was the only thing that ever broke through the noise.

Her warmth. Her touch. Her quiet strength in defying the world around her just to love him, despite her own living conditions.

And then—

BANG!

That gunshot rings.

That image again. Her lifeless body, the warmth fading in his arms.

He had experienced death at a young age.

Gray's hands clenched at his sides.

Five and a half years since he escaped from that institution. Since he shut himself away in that cold manor, burying himself in schematics and strategy. Trying to manage emotions he was never taught to understand. Emotions they tried to strip away.

Fear. Grief. Loneliness...Rage

But now...

Now he had invited people in.

A meek but fiercely determined All Might fanboy who saw good in everyone. Whom he met when he approached him after eavesdropping on his training with All Might,

A blunt, spirited martial artist who smiled at him even when he was completely insufferable. Whom he met when she approached him at his Dojo and had been with him ever since.

Izuku and Itsuka.

Friends.

The word still felt foreign. But less so than before.

He was still unraveling what that meant. What it changed. If it changed anything at all.

His brow furrowed slightly as he sunk deeper into that contemplation until he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Itsuka leaned forward a bit, peering at him with a look of mild concern. "Hey," she said gently. "You okay?"

Gray blinked, brought back to the present.

"...Yes," he said quietly. "I'm fine."

But even now, his voice carried a hesitation he rarely allowed.

Izuku turned as well, worry creeping onto his face. "K-Kishimi-san...?"

Gray shook his head with a small exhale and turned back to face the skyline. "It's nothing. Just...thinking."

Neither of them pressed further.

Wanting to switch the topic, or maybe deflect from the way they were looking at him, Gray suddenly spoke, his tone a touch more composed.

"Anyways," he said, hands clasped behind his back, "did you enjoy this... 'trip' of mine? Do you have any favorites?"

Izuku blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. "O-Oh! Uh... y-yeah! I mean, of course! It was incredible!" he said, still recovering from the emotional whiplash of the day. "I—I don't think I've ever been in a place like this before...E-Ever."

"Same here," Itsuka said, brushing her ponytail back. "I mean, I've been inside fancy places before but...this was something else." She gave Gray a teasing smirk. "Honestly, I thought you were trying to break us with how many surprises you threw at us."

Gray tilted his head. "Break you?"

"She means emotionally," Izuku whispered like it was classified intel.

Gray blinked. "Ah. That makes more sense."

"So," Gray repeated, "favorites?"

Izuku's eyes lit up. "The simulation room. That tech was insane. I still can't believe something like that exists outside of U.A...!"

Gray nodded slightly. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

"What about you, Kendo-san?" he asked, turning to her.

Itsuka crossed her arms and tapped her chin. "Hmm...hard to choose, but..." she grinned. "The food court was a surprise. Like, I still can't believe you had a gourmet café inside your workplace."

Gray blinked again. "You...liked the café?"

"Kishimi-kun," she said, half-laughing, "it had a chocolate fountain. That's not normal."

Izuku nodded aggressively. "It really isn't!"

There was a brief pause. Then, almost sheepishly, Gray muttered under his breath, "...I thought it was standard office culture."

Both Izuku and Itsuka facefaulted anime-style.

"This guy..." Itsuka groaned with a small laugh, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

Gray blinked at the gesture but didn't shy away.

The elevator finally reached the ground floor.

And with that, the trio stepped out, the evening light casting long shadows as Ethan waited by the car.

Despite the fatigue, the information overload, and the excessive class divide they'd been reminded of all day...both Izuku and Itsuka walked out with a bit more contempt than they came in with.

Because despite everything, the technology, the prestige, the quiet mystery of Gray's past, he had shared something personal with them today. A piece of his world.

And that meant something.

As the limo hummed quietly along the city streets, the three sat comfortably in plush seats beneath soft ambient lights. Izuku and Itsuka were still absorbing everything they'd seen; The advanced technology, the scope of the company, the absurd gadgets, the quiet weight Gray carried as its heir.

Then, Gray spoke up.

“So,” he asked, glancing at them from his seat, “do either of you have any questions about Kishimi Enterprises?”

Izuku perked up, but also visibly hesitated, like a fanboy afraid to ask a dumb question. “U-Um! I-I mean, y-yeah, I do! But, uh...d-does Kishimi Enterprises really make a shark repellent?”

Itsuka deadpanned. “That’s your first question?”

Izuku sputtered at her, his face flushed. "I-I have to know, okay?!"

Gray nodded seriously. “Yes. It's primarily designed for aquatic rescue support teams. Not everything we make is intended to be flashy. Some of it is purely practical.”

Izuku muttered, “W-Wow...it’s real.”

Itsuka leaned her head back and groaned playfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop being surprised by you.”

Gray tilted his head. “I was under the impression I had answered your question.”

“No, no, you did,” she replied, waving him off. “It’s just...your company is like a vending machine that spits out tech from every genre imaginable. I half expect you to tell me you’ve got something that toasts bread and launches drones.”

Gray blinked. “That would be inefficient. We keep those functions separate.”

“…Oh my god,” Itsuka whispered.

Gray glanced between the two as the city lights streaked across the limousine windows. “Kishimi Enterprises is a multi-national conglomerate focused on technological innovation and public service. We design advanced support equipment for pro heroes, develop civilian safety infrastructure, and work in medical, utility, and emergency sectors alike. It’s not just a business. It’s a tool I intend to use fir future hero work. Efficient. Practical. Precise.”

Izuku and Itsuka exchanged wide-eyed looks, still trying to process the sheer weight of that statement.

Gray continued without missing a beat. “And when I become a Pro Hero…I expect Kishimi Enterprises will be a powerful asset in that pursuit.”

Then, his tone shifted ever so slightly. Curious. Soft, almost. “Speaking of which…what are your planned hero names?”

Izuku flinched like he’d been hit with a surprise test question. “M-My hero name?! Uh—uhhh, I haven’t really thought of it! N-Not seriously anyway…!”

“You haven’t thought about it?” Itsuka gave him an incredulous look. “Aren’t you the superfan here?”

“I-I have ideas!” Izuku flailed, his cheeks turning beet red. “Just not, you know…finalized ones…”

A storm of cringe-worthy childhood names like Small Might and All Might Jr. flashed through his mind like a fever dream. He buried his face in his hands with a quiet groan.

Gray observed the flustered boy coolly. “Interesting. I would have assumed you had a working shortlist by now. Especially given the… breadth of your notebooks.”

“I do! They’re just…private!” Izuku insisted, shooting him a glare over his fingers.

Gray’s gaze turned to Itsuka. “And you?”

Itsuka gave a contemplative look for a moment before she shrugged and answered. "I've thought about it, but I think I'll go with 'Battle Fist'. Short, simple, memorable, and it's related to my quirk, Big Fist." She explained, causing Izuku to look at her in awe of the fact that she decided so quickly and firmly.

Gray gave a small nod of approval. “Practical and to the point. I like it.”

Itsuka grinned, then turned the question around. “Okay, your turn, Mr. Rich Boy. What’s your hero name going to be?”

There was a short pause. Gray’s expression shifted ever so slightly, not into hesitation, but something deeper. Focused. Quietly resolute.

“…The Phantom Raven,” he answered.

Both Izuku and Itsuka blinked, surprised by the answer and by how seriously he said it.

Izuku tilted his head. “Oh yeah. I saw that concept image you had for your costume. It looks awesome! But, uh…why a raven, Kishimi-san?”

Itsuka nodded, curious. “Yeah. Not that it’s a bad name or anything, actually kinda cool, just wondering.”

Gray was silent for a long moment. His gaze lowered slightly, and something almost imperceptible flickered in his eyes.

“…I like ravens,” he replied flatly.

The others waited, but that was all he said. Just that. 'I like ravens.'

But behind that simple statement lay something far heavier.

He could still hear her voice.

“Did you know that ravens are actually really smart, Gray? Like you!”

His mother’s soft laughter, the warmth of her hand ruffling his hair, the fondness in her eyes.

And the raven. The one that landed beside him in that alley, long ago. The one that watched over him as he cried, cradling the lifeless body of the woman who had once given him a name and a reason to hope.

It had stayed with him for a while. As if mourning with him.

That bird, and what it meant…it had never left his mind.

But none of that could be said. So instead, he settled on a half-truth.

“I like ravens,” he repeated softly.

Izuku and Itsuka were surprised yet again by Gray Kishimi. They didn't expect such a simple answer.

“…Cool,” Itsuka said, giving him a warm smile. “The Phantom Raven, huh? Sounds like something from a movie.”

“Or a legend,” Izuku added with a nervous chuckle. “It really suits you, Kishimi-san.”

Gray merely gave a slight nod, folding his hands in his lap.

The rest of the limo ride comprised of comfortable silence and friendly banter.