Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

           “Reporting live at the scene, we’ve been told by our producers to stay a safe distance away from the fight, but even here, blocks away from the disturbance, onlookers can still feel the devastating effects and power that the Reigning Monarchs hold.”

           There is a sudden explosion that shakes the ground beneath the gathered crowd, and the reporter clutches her microphone in shock. It pulls shouts of fear and cries of surprise from the crowd, as fire blossoms from behind buildings and arcs up towards the sky, the remnants of the heat felt from afar.

           “Behind me, you can see the infamous flames of (hero name) as she battles alongside the symbol of peace himself. It’s rare for us to see these two in the same fight, so as you can expect, there are huge crowds that are gathered here with the hopes of seeing even a glimpse of the Monarchs in action,” the reporter explains, her expression elated despite the danger of the situation, “Previous reports are coming in that say the two were simply in the area shopping for groceries, when this unexpected turn of events forced them to fight a squad of villains attempting to rob a bank and take hostages! There is no sense of fear for us, though, and we are all here, cheering for the victory of our favorite superhero duo!”

           Another explosion, followed by fire and destruction as a building collapses from the sheer force of the fight. There is a mix of excited screams and worried murmurings from the crowd behind the reporter, as men and women press against the police safety barriers, craning their necks and squinting their eyes in hopes that they can see some of the fight.

           “Despite the tense hostage situation, the police and rescue services have been advised to hold back, until further information is given. That means we have no helicopters in the sky, no support teams in the red, and all medical personnel are here with us, on standby. We have been assured that no damage or harm will come to the hostages, and—”

           “Look! Over there!”

           “Is that them?!”

           “Oh my God, it is! I can see them! I can see them!”

           “They did it! They won!!”

           From out of the flames, behind the smoke, the Symbol of Peace and the Pillar of Justice stand as undefeated as ever, side by side, the raw strength emanating from them in pulses that clear the skies. The crowd's cheers are deafening, their support unanimous. All Might smiles, as wide as always, laughing as he places a hand on the shoulders of his companion, who raises a hand to greet the crowd. There are no casualties, the hostages are safe, and the villains captured. All over in less than 15 minutes. Nothing less was expected from the calibre of these pro heroes.

           Medical teams rush to the scene, once there are eyes on All Might and (hero name), and police and fire rescue follow closely behind. The paramedics stop briefly at the heroes, but are quickly waved onward to tend to the people who need it more. Never ones to relax after a fight, and always first to offer help, the two turn once they have shown that all is well, and head back into the rubble and ruins to tend to the civilians and detained villains, and to assist the police with information and statements. The last thing the crowd sees, are the goodbye waves the heroes offer the cheering crowds, before they turn, the smoke almost bowing to give them entry, as they affectionately give each other a gentle tap on the back, and make to disappear within.

           The video footage pauses, and the teacher moves to turn the classroom lights on, jarring the students back to reality, but all of them remain captivated by the image on the screen – a husband and wife. The Reigning Monarchs.

           “Oh, man, so awesome!” someone cries, “did you see that stance at the end!"

           “(Hero name) is so beautiful! I have three posters of her in my room!”

           “All Might is always amazing – I love them together—”

           “Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s cool and all,” Bakugo drawls, pressing his foot against his desk to lean back in his chair, “but once I’m accepted in U.A High, there’s gonna be nothing holding me back from becoming the number 1 hero. I’ll even surpass the Monarchs themselves."

           “Class,” the teacher calls, moving to the front of the room, leaning on the chalkboard and gaining the attention of all his students. “I know you all love them, but we watched this video as an introduction to our next assignment. I want someone to tell me; why are our top heroes so popular?”

           “Because they’re strong!” a voice calls.

           “Yes, true,” the teacher affirms, “If they weren’t strong, they wouldn’t be able to become pro heroes. What else?”

           “Uhh... they’re cool!”

           “Again – it’s subject to opinion – but yes, they are cool,” the man sighs, “But think. Why are they so popular? Why have we given them the nickname of royalty–?”

           “Because of their ideals."

           “Who said that?” the teacher asks.

           It takes a moment, but a shy hand raises in the air.

           “Midoriya?” the man nods, smiling, “You’re right. Please, explain further.”

           “Uhh,” Midoriya falters, feeling the eyes of almost the entire class shift to focus on him. All except Bakugo, who is quietly fuming. He averts his gaze down to his desk, and continues, “They... uh... they have strong ideals. All Might himself is the Symbol of Peace, and (hero name) is the Pillar of Justice. Both separately and together, they stand for something truly heroic – they want us to feel safe and hopeful. They live their lives in service of others, no matter what the cost or danger. Not only are they both immensely strong, they are also likable as people, because, despite their rankings, they aren’t boastful or prideful. When everyone chooses to run, they choose to stay. They are always kind. I think that’s why we all like them so much.”

           “Excellent” the teacher praises. “And that perfect answer leads on to our assignment. I would like each of you to go home and think about who your favorite hero is. I know everyone loves the Monarchs, but try and think of another hero that you truly admire, and why? What makes you like them? Why do you want to be like them? Please prepare a speech to be presented to the class next week. This goes towards 80% of your final grade, so I want to hear great detail in these speeches!”

           There is a collective groan from the class, and the teacher laughs, shaking his head.

           “Yeah, yeah, whatever. We have five minutes left of class – let's end on a high note!”

           He resumes the video, which cuts to an interview held with All Might and (hero name) directly after the fight. The lights dim, and the class becomes mesmerized once again by the charm of their favorite heroes.

           “That was an intense situation!” the reporter breathes, stunned to even be this close to the top 2 heroes in person, “Can you give us an insight as to the thoughts that were going through your head?”

           “HAHAHAHAAA~~,” All Might throws his head back in his signature laugh, hands on his hips and shoulders square, throwing up a peace sign. “A PIECE OF CAKE, SINCE IT’S OUR JOB~!”

           The reporter beams, grinning happily, moving the microphone to gain an answer from (hero name), who laughs much softer than her male counterpart.

           “Of course, during situations such as these, we are always worried about collateral damage to the city, and also the welfare of our citizens. We’re just glad that everyone is okay!”

           “Of course, and it’s all thanks to you two!” the reporter gushes. “All Might, (hero name), I’d love to ask you – since it’s so rare to see the two of you fighting together, what’s it like when you’re finally able to support each other in the same battle?”

           “To have my husband by my side in trying and dangerous circumstances makes me confident that I can overcome anything!” (Hero name) explains, balling her fist resolutely. “We fight well together, but due to the nature of our quirks, it’s difficult and sometimes dangerous for us to both act at the same time, which is why we try to fight separately.”

           “So, tell us, what was different this time that made you respond together?”

           “Well,” All Might begins, holding a finger up as he explains his point, “we were the first and only heroes in the area, and the nature of the crime warranted our immediate attention. Not only were criminals trying to steal money from the good people of this city, but they were also endangering the lives of innocents! We simply could not wait, and leapt into action at once!” he ends by striking a heroic pose, grinning.

           “Wow, truly amazing!” the reporter exclaims, star-struck, before shaking her head a little to level herself. “I’ll let you two go ahead and get some well-deserved rest, but before you leave, do you have anything you wish to say to your fans?”

           “THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT!” All Might yells, throwing a thumbs up at the camera, and placing a hand on the shoulder of his wife.

           “We’re always grateful for the support and encouragement from the citizens of this city, and of the world,” you explain more eloquently, turning towards the camera, throwing up a peace sign as All Might crouches slightly behind you so he can fit in frame, too, waving his own peace sign cutely. You smile happily for the camera, nodding, “As long as we are here, everyone, you have nothing to fear!"

           Midoriya’s eyes shine. Yeah.

           They are definitely his favorites.

Chapter Text

           All Might is almost crushing the chair he’s currently perching on, since it’s entirely too small for him when he’s in this form. He’s trying his best look small – knees together, back hunched over, hands placed together in his lap – but is falling miserably short. You’re sitting quietly beside him, as the man in front of you drones on and on about much of the same stuff you’ve already heard time and time again. Sensing your lackluster attitude and seeing the dying flames in your eyes, the man sighs.

           “I really do need to stress this,” the Doctor’s voice fades in and out as your concentration drifts to more interesting things – like the life-size model of a human skeleton standing behind his oak desk, or the shiny gold of his nameplate. You’ve been to at least 5 other specialists who have all said exactly the same thing when it came to this question, so there was no use in listening when they were all agreeing on the same point.

           “Are you certain she can’t use her quirk right now?”

           “I just wouldn’t chance it, All Might,” the doctor sighs, shaking his head. “Usually, it’s completely fine for expectant mothers to use their quirk as normal, but in this situation...” he pauses, to give you a sympathetic look, before continuing, “I really do recommend a respite from the use of her quirk. Since you two are the top ranked heroes, mainly due to your overwhelming, and god-like strength, we have no idea what kind of quirk your offspring will possess, or the strength at which they will possess it. Since (hero name)’s quirk is also of great magnitude, we have no idea how this will affect the child inside her. In my professional opinion, I would advise (hero name) to highly limit the use of her quirk, or to cease use altogether.”

           The both of you are silent for a few moments, before All Might smiles as wide as ever, bowing slightly.

           “Doctor!” he laughs, “Thank you for your great advice!” he gives the doctor a hearty thumbs up, before saying in a much softer tone than is usually heard from this version of him, “My love, shall we go?”

           You stand wordlessly, bowing slightly to the doctor before you allow All Might to lead you out.

           You’re quiet as you stand outside the entrance to the bathroom, as he sneaks off to return to his usual form, reaching the allocated limit for his days usage of One For All. A bathroom wasn’t the most ideal place to change back into his smaller form, but you took one for the team and peeked inside, checking that the coast was clear before he scurried in. There were no cameras in a private hospital such as this, since this one was designed mainly for the elite pro heroes, so you didn’t have to worry about staff noticing All Might in the halls. No video footage was allowed to be recorded inside facilities such as this, and for good reason. The press loved to report on almost everything that the top 10 did, and, on occasion, would stop at nothing to gather evidence to fuel articles and stories. To protect the privacy of pro heroes when they are recovering from a particularly nasty fight, or to give new mothers the chance to birth children of pros, these facilities forbade cell phones, cameras or any other recording equipment on premises.

           You sigh, allowing your back to fall softly against the wall behind you. Visits to doctors and hospitals were becoming more and more frequent as your pregnancy progressed, and you knew that star-struck look that each and every one of them had in their eyes as soon as the two of you walked through the doors. You knew it well. It was understandable, of course, and you weren’t faulting them for their reaction when the two strongest heroes not only graced their offices, but did so because the two of them had decided to create life and were seeking advice. But what you did hate, was the media frenzy over this. It had been a joint decision that you and All Might had talked about for years and years, and when you finally fell pregnant, it was something that was impossible for two people of such high notoriety to hide. And to be honest, you tried your absolute best to do so. But the media got wind, somehow, someway of the pregnancy. Maybe it was because you had ceased fighting, and maybe it was because you were wearing looser fitting clothes – but as soon as you and All Might confirmed their suspicions, the world became obsessed with the prospect of a child whose mother was an insanely powerful hero, second only to the father – All Might himself.

           The Reigning Monarchs were creating a dynasty.

           The thought made you grimace. The world thought they knew everything, but in reality, they knew very little about who you and All Might truly were – they didn’t even know his real name. So, why should they know what your body and your quirk could do? Everything they were telling you was going against everything you felt. Of course, you weren’t about to leap into battles when you were in your second trimester, but you knew that you could still use your quirk freely, or, at least, you sure as hell felt like it. You swirl a soft flame around your hand, in a sudden act of rebellion, but you knew All Might would highly disapprove. Ever since the first visit to the first doctor, who had casually mentioned in the passing, that perhaps you should relax the usage of your powerful quirk, Toshinori was up your ass if he even caught so much as the brief heat of a flame. So, when the bathroom door swings open, you disperse the embers quickly, before he can see.

           “Alright,” he coughs, wiping some blood from his mouth, “let’s go.”

           You nod wordlessly, pushing yourself off from the wall and walking slowly beside him.

           “Hey,” he begins, “you okay--?”

           “I think it’s stupid,” you mutter, pulling your black cap over your head, and stretching the black face mask over your nose. “It’s just their opinion, after all.”

           You tie your hair back into a discreet ponytail, becoming almost unrecognizable. With the cap and mask hiding most of your face, and your hair tucked neatly out of sight, most of your identity becomes hidden. You look just like any other pregnant woman. This precaution was necessary when you were out in public. When All Might returns to his usual form, the only thing that could possibly allude to the fact that he is the Symbol of Peace is you. If anyone recognises you, they will immediately know that the person walking protectively beside you is none other than the number 1 ranked hero. And since his entire identity is a secret, it’s easier just to hide yourself, rather than to show his truth.

           “Yeah,” he agrees, gently patting your stomach with his right hand as he walks beside you, “but for Lo, I think it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

           Choosing a name for your child had been overwhelmingly stressful for you and Toshinori alike. You had no idea where to even begin and neither of you had any ideas to bounce off of. You had both flipped through hundreds of pages of baby names books and were still no closer to choosing a name for your daughter. So, for now, you settled on calling her ‘Lo’ - an affectionate abbreviation of ‘Little One’.

           “Yeah, sure,” you sigh, “but what happens if there's a crime, or an attack, or someone’s in danger, or--”

           “There are plenty of capable heroes that can handle that stuff,” he laughs, bumping your shoulder softly with his own. “You don’t have to worry about it. Oh, and uh... I need to talk to you about something.”

           “Hmm?” you hum, walking a little slower since your back hurt more than usual these days. The sun was setting in the city, basking you in soft heat, and you sigh contentedly. “What’s that?”

           “I found a successor.”

           “WHAT?!” you yell, all peace and tranquillity of the moment leaves you, the sudden noise makes Toshinori jump. “When?! How? I thought that U.A said Mirio was the best option for OFA?” you look down at the floor, adding as a mere afterthought, “I like him...”

           “Yeah, they did,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

           “So...?” you press, looking at him exasperatedly. “Toshinori?”

           “Well, I met someone and I just knew,” he explains, “It felt the same as when I met you. You know, the same resolute feeling.”

           “What?” you tilt your head, confused. “What does that mean?”

           “Well, ever since I met you, no matter how we interacted, or how we grew as people, or how much distance there was between us,” he turns to you, “I knew. I knew I was going to marry you.” He suddenly grins. “And I did! So, just trust me, okay? I know. This kid is the one.”

           You let out a heavy breath at the weight of the news he just told you.

           “So, did you pass it on yet?”

           “What?” he suddenly laughs heartedly, grasping his stomach.

           “Hey! I’m serious!”

           “No, love, no,” he chuckles, grabbing your hand as he starts walking again, pulling you gently with him. “This kid is way too weak for OFA right now--”

           “Seriously, Toshinori,” you shake your head, mildly angry. “You found a successor and his body can’t even handle the quirk? What’s the point, then?”

           “Well, I’m training him, don’t worry,” he explains.

           “I want to meet him.”

           “You will,” he assures, “you will. He’s such a fanboy, though--”

           “Toshinori--”

           “He’s the one,” he reminds, nodding, “he’s the one.”

           “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.”

           “Anyway, you hungry? I’m starving, and I’m sure Lo is, too,” he claims, tugging happily on your hand, “Let’s get some Omurice! It’s her favorite~~”

           “It’s your favorite,” you laugh.

           “Hey, she’s her father's daughter~”

           “Yeah, yeah, okay,” you giggle, allowing Toshinori to lead you down a path where you would always follow.

Chapter Text

           "Okay, next up,” the teacher pushes his glasses further up his nose, inspecting the registered list of students. “Katsuki Bakugo.”

           The boy in question rocks himself out of his chair and propels himself forward, walking proudly to stand at the front of the class. He had spent all night perfecting and practicing this speech – not that he would ever let anyone of these extras know that – and was confident he would get a sky-high mark.

           “Begin when you are ready,” the teacher instructs.

           “Okay,” Bakugo begins, rolling his eyes, “unlike almost every loser here, I’m not starry eyed and drooling all over All Might. Yeah, the guy’s amazing, but no way is he my favorite hero. The only one I look up to, the only hero worthy of my admiration, the one who it’s my personal goal to surpass...

           ...the one who I will surpass...

           is (hero name).”

           There are a few confused murmurings from some of the students, who didn’t expect someone like him to admire such a hero, but Bakugo ignores them, and continues.

           “(Hero name) possesses a quirk we are all familiar with – fire manipulation. However, unlike other users of similar quirks, like Endeavor, she feels no need to wear her quirk in a statement of strength or as an intimidation tactic, because her incredible reputation and power proceed her. I want to be the same,” Bakugo explains, balling his fists and shouting, “I want people to know exactly who I am and what I’m capable of, without even having to show my quirk! I want to be feared by villains and respected by every citizen, just like her!”

           Bakugo notices the teacher taking notes from the corner of his eyes, and continues with his speech, trying hard not to notice.

           “(Hero name) is where she is today thanks to no one but herself. Despite being married to the strongest hero, no one thinks she is in that position because of him. She is the most powerful quirk user, second only to All Might, because of her determination to win, and her resolute mind. Of course, her quirk is insanely powerful, but in terms of attitude, we are very alike--”

           “Pfft, sure--”

           “WHICH ONE OF YOU SHITHEADS SAID THAT?!” Bakugo retorts angrily, yelling and blasting explosions from his hands, furiously sweeping the room with his death glare for the culprit who interrupted his speech.

           “Bakugo,” the teacher warns, not even looking up from his paper, accustomed to his student’s sudden outbursts of rage. “Continue, please.”

           It takes Bakugo a minute to calm, but after shoving his hands in his pockets and looking uninterested, he resumes.

           “Anyway, whatever. (Hero name) is my favorite hero because she is who she is. She never gives up, and pushed her quirk to develop so she could find new ways to fight and help people. She’s my favorite hero, and that’s it,” Bakugo nods, not waiting for the teacher to dismiss him, but finishes his speech and leaves the class.

           Usually, other people’s opinions didn’t faze him, but today... during his speech... it bothered him more than he thought it would. He ignores the stares from the other students as he makes his way to the roof, climbing stairs silently, brows furrowed. It annoyed him that his ambitions to become a future hero weren’t taken seriously, and the more people that doubted him, the angrier he became. He throws the door to the roof open with such force, that it slams into the wall outside, leaving a dent in the brickwork, and allows a few explosions burst from his hands. It pissed him the hell off. Why couldn’t he be just like (hero name)? Why couldn’t he become more powerful, more adored? Why couldn’t he be compared to her, and why couldn’t he be placed on an even higher pedestal? There was nothing to say his dreams wouldn’t become a reality. Those shitty excuses for quirk users didn’t know potential for greatness when they saw it. Bakugo tuts angrily, kicking a stone with the front of his shoe, before grinding it into the dirt.

           He slumps against the wall of the roof, pulling out his cell phone. Whenever Bakugo felt dejected or unfocused or like he wanted to give up, he would always revert to the same video footage he had saved on his phone from an internet video he downloaded. It was old footage, the aftermath of a battle, in which (hero name) had come out victorious – just as always. It was only a few months after her debut as a pro hero, and the entire fight, the villain was goading her, comparing her to All Might and saying how miserably she fell short – or, so she explained in the press release. (Hero name) described how the villain would provoke her, commenting that she was lacklustre in comparison to her husband, and that she would never be able to creep out from under his shadow. The fight ends as (hero name) towers over the villain, who had been knocked on his back and barely escaped death from her attack. She grasps the front of his uniform, lifting him close to her face as she bends down and mutters something to him. (Hero name) never disclosed what her final words were to this particular villain, choosing to keep them a secret, but said if the public really wanted to know what was said between them, they were allowed to look at footage of the fight and decide for themselves.

           Bakugo had spent hours – no... days – deciphering what it was that you were murmuring to the villain who was inches from your face, and he was fairly certain that he knew what you were saying. Your voice looked seething; your expression wild.

           “I am not my husband. I am who I am.”

           “I am who I am,” Bakugo whispers.

           That is what he lives by. No regrets, and no apologies. He is who he is, and he’s damn sure that the world will know it, too.

Chapter Text

           “Can I get you anything?” Toshinori asks, popping his head through the door to the large living room.

           “No,” you sigh, staring at the ceiling, currently balancing a glass of water on your enlarged stomach. You flick through various news channels on the television, watching all your fellow heroes doing their jobs while you were stuck to a life of an expectant mother.

           “Do you want to take a walk?”

           “...No.”

           “Okay...” he sighs, downcast, before suddenly reverting to his muscle form. “WHAT IS BOTHERING YOU, MY LOVE?”

           You laugh, grabbing your glass before it spilled, watching him strike poses in front of you. He would usually do this, switching back and forth randomly between his smaller form and his more muscular form out of nowhere to make you laugh.

           “I’m just...” you begin, groaning, “bored... so... bored...”

           He shrinks back, coughing a little, before walking over to join you on the sofa, patting your leg. You feel guilty telling him you were so insanely bored, since he was doing so much for you during this time. Toshinori would run around, getting you anything you wanted, doing all the chores, waking up at 3am to buy you your weird cravings, while also continuing his hero duties. You would often scold him for doing too much, reminding him that although you were pregnant, you could still do much of the same things by yourself. But, in your defence, he was being incredibly overprotective of you. He knew you could do everything by yourself, but he wanted you to relax as much as possible, seeing as you were carrying his child.

           “I can’t really go anywhere, and I don’t have anything to do since I’m not on active hero duties,” you explain, shooting him a sudden glare. “I can’t even use my quirk.”

           Toshinori avoids your scolding gaze, squeezing your leg affectionately.

           “I know you’re frustrated because you can’t use your quirk,” he begins, “but we can still do other things together, right?”

           “Yeah,” you mope, folding your arms, “Any ideas?”

           “Well,” he rubs the back of his head, “I... actually have to go to U.A right now.”

           “U.A?” you ask, “Our old school? Why?”

           “Well, since my successor wants to enroll there, I’m hoping they’ll let me become a teacher so I can watch over him.”

           “I’m still upset that you didn’t choose Mirio,” you pout. “I really like that kid.”

           “Mirio has become one of the top three students at U.A,” All Might informs you, “I’m sure he’s destined to be a great hero, regardless.”

           “Yeah,” you nod, musing, “I want to see him again.”

           Before you fell pregnant, while All Might was searching for a successor, U.A was the best option to look for likely candidates. Toshinori and yourself would often stop by under the guise that you were giving inspirational speeches and lectures to the future heroes, but really, you were meeting with the principal to discuss possible inheritors. A name that would continuously appear, was Mirio Togata. Whether it was from students passing in the halls, from his teachers, or even from the principal himself, word about Togata was that he was exceptionally strong, focused, and driven. Not to mention, he had an unrivalled optimistic attitude, and would never stop smiling – much like the Symbol himself. You had instantly become captivated by Mirio the moment you met the kid, and became his biggest supporter and advocate. Even if there was no reason, you would find excuses to visit U.A and see Mirio. His bright attitude was an instant mood lifter, and he grew to expect your daily visits, becoming worried and a little deflated when you didn’t show up. Since you fell pregnant, you hadn’t been able to see the kid in months, and now that Toshinori had mentioned that he was making a trip to U.A High, you jumped at the opportunity to come along.

           “Then, let’s go together,” Toshinori suggests. You smile brightly, nodding happily.

           The journey to U.A High was brief. All Might drove, and you watched the city scenery pass by, hands clasped around your stomach. All Might had gotten into this habit of placing one of his hands on your stomach, whenever the two of you were sitting close together, and he had done it so often that it had become second nature. You were pretty sure it had become something that was more comforting to him, than to you, and so whenever he unconsciously moved his hand to your stomach, you smiled warmly to yourself.

           “Everything okay?” you ask him, placing your hand on top of his.

           “Hmm? Oh, yeah,” he replies, but he seems a little distant.

           “What’s bothering you?”

           “Nothing serious,” he smiles, trying to put you at ease. “So, you don’t have to worry about anything.”

           “You’d tell me if something was wrong, though... right?” you ask.

           He doesn’t answer, but just pats your leg affectionately, giving you a warm smile. In the moment, it eases your mind, but when you revisit that thought later, you realise you should have pressed him further.

           Before you step out of the car, Toshinori switches to his muscular form, becoming uncomfortably large for the insides of the small car. He made the switch without giving any prior warning – much to your annoyance, since you would have exited the car beforehand if he did. You make a strained noise, leaning away from him and pressing into the window to give him more space, becoming quickly uncomfortable.

           “Ah,” he sighs, “I’m sorry, my love.”

           You make a noise of acknowledgement, pulling on the handle of the door so it swings open, granting you freedom from the cramped space as you step out. All Might stumbles out of the car after you, in his rushed attempt to apologise, but his voice falls short, and his face softens when he looks over your shoulder. You’re shutting the car door softly when you realise it yourself, recognizing a familiar voice.

           “(Hero name)! Is that youuuuuuu?”

           You turn, your expression equally as bright as his, as Mirio sprints towards you across the grounds of U.A, loose papers from his school books flying in the air are long forgotten in his valiant charge across the parking lot. He frantically flails and waves his arms so that you don’t overlook him, and you laugh happily, opening your arms to greet him. He slows when he reaches you, finally able to hug you tightly for the first time in months.

           “I’ve missed you a lot!” he chirps, squeezing you, a small gasp escaping from his throat when he spots the Symbol of Peace. “And All Might, wow, hey! How are you both?!”

           You open your mouth to respond as he pulls away, but he suddenly drops down, crouching in front of your stomach, as his eyes go wide and sparkle.

           “Woooow~!” he breathes, “I forgot you were pregnant!”

           All Might laughs heartedly at his reaction, coming around the car to stand beside you, watching Mirio eye your stomach with glee.

           “Can I feel?” he asks, his eyes wide and child-like as he stares up at you. You nod, watching him place a hand on your stomach and make a whooshing noise. All Might heroically excuses himself with the valiant explanation that he must attend a meeting with Principal Nezu. He kisses you on the forehead, offering Mirio a cute peace sign, and then departs. You turn your attention back to the boy crouching before you, his hand softly patting your stomach.

           “Tell me all about your studies, Mirio!” you pat the top of his head affectionately, smiling down at him as he stands. “It’s been months since I last saw you! I’ll walk you to your next class, so you have to tell me what's been happening!”

           He scratches the back of his head sheepishly, his bright smile never faltering as he offers you his arm and you begin to walk in tandem. Mirio happily explains that he is working as hard as ever, both in his pursuit of becoming the number one hero, and in his academic studies, and is placing high in his written and practical tests. You’re a little sad when you finally reach his homeroom class, but the warm hug Mirio leaves you with elevates your mood again. He was always such a bright and positive kid.

           “I always have high hopes for you Mirio!” you nod, bumping his shoulder with your own, narrowing your eyes at him. “One day you’ll surpass me, I have no doubt in my mind!”

           “What?!” Mirio laughs, rubbing his shoulder and waving his hands in dismissal. “No way, (Hero name).” He gives a brief laugh, before he balls his fists, his eyes shining. “But I’ll give it my best shot!”

           “I’ll be cheering for you!”

           “No!” he jokes, the familiar atmosphere between the two of you settles nicely for the first time in months, “Don’t cheer for me to beat you!”

           “I’m cheering!” you press, jabbing a fist into the air and watching his smile increase tenfold.

           Mirio waves goodbye, only after you made him promise to take a rest every now and then so he doesn’t overwork himself, and you watch him bound happily into his homeroom class, joking with his friends, and giving them an excuse as to why he was later than usual.

           You are alone now, in the long halls of U.A High, only yourself and your thoughts swim around. All other students are busy in their lessons, and teachers are preoccupied with lesson-planning, or teaching the next generation of heroes. You absentmindedly begin to walk, surveying the school. Not much has changed in the past 20 years, you think. Well, not since you attended, at least. Your feet carry you, but it’s the memories that keep you walking slowly. Every so often, when you turn your head, or focus your eyes, you catch ghosts from your past that run down the same halls, calling out to you from the whispers of a memory that’s been pushed into your mind from the familiarity of a place you used to call home.

           -----

           It was the almost repetitive slamming noise that finally annoyed you enough to pull you from your study group inside your homeroom class. Of course, there had been commotion outside, but since it was lunchtime, it was usual for students to become rowdy and release their pent-up energy. You had tried your best to ignore it, but this was way too much. Sliding the door to your homeroom class open and peering out, you immediately realised there was a fight going on, and that’s why it was so loud. You gasp loudly when you realise who the instigator of everything was.

           Enji Todoroki.

           The only other person in the entire school whose quirk was just like yours.

           You sprint out of your classroom, feeling an unspoken obligation to either protect him, or calm him down, since you were bonded through your quirk. Whatever the reason for this fight was, you didn’t want anything to escalate further than it already had. The crowd that had gathered was large, and it took you a moment of pushing and shoving before you had made your way through to the centre, and when you did, you had to admit, you were a little shocked at what you were seeing. Sure, fire users had hot tempers -- it was basically a side effect that came with the quirk -- and you knew that fact better than anyone, but Enji seemed to have a blazing anger like no other. Quicker to tap into his rage than you were, he was always getting into fights with other students – and this time was no exception.

           He is towering above two younger students who were in the same year as you, both of which are cowering on the ground, as he holds another up by their collar. None of the three students are looking too great, and have some already visible bruises forming on their faces – one even has a bloody nose. You can tell that, instead of using his quirk, he’s relied solely on his fists for this fight, and although you are a little glad and relieved that he hasn’t called on his quirk for violence, you’re disappointed and angry as hell that he’s resorted to violence at all.

           “Todoroki!” you yell, the tone in your voice makes him turn his head slowly, and he releases the student he had been holding in the air. You give him a look, and he rolls his eyes.

           “What do you want, little embers?”

           A slightly derogatory nickname he created for you, when he found out your quirks were both fire manipulation. Embers of any fire tended to be the weak and dying remnants of something much greater, and since he was always in competition with you to be the more powerful fire user, he would try to make that point clear any chance he got. He was your senior by a year, but he acted like he was so much younger than you. You say nothing, noticing the entire attention of the whole group is focused on you now, and just approach him, grabbing the cuff of his uniform. To your surprise, he allows you to drag him away from the fight to a much more secluded area of the school, away from prying eyes. When you finally let go of him, he refuses to meet your eyes, like an obstinate child. You continue to glare at him, until he finally relents.

           “What?” he spits.

           “Well?” you look at him expectantly. “What was it this time?”

           “God, I hate how you act like I’m always starting shit!”

           “Well, aren’t you?!”

           “No! What the fuck, (first name)!” he yells, his fire instantly igniting with his anger, “I’m not an asshole, but I'm sure as hell not a pushover! They were running their mouths, and I don’t let that shit slide!” His chest is heaving with the exertion of shouting, his flames lapping at the air around the two of you.

           “Don’t show your flames to me, Enji,” you warn, your eyes narrowed and hard. “You might not be able to finish what you start.”

           “You’re lucky you have a fire quirk,” he growls, slamming his fist into the lockers behind you, narrowly missing your face as his fire dissipates. “I wouldn’t be so lenient if you didn’t. Stop getting involved in my business--”

           “It’s because we both have a fire quirk, that I’m getting involved, you idiot,” you scold, “Don’t you realise that? We share a bond that no one else at this school can understand. I feel an obligation to look out for you and to stop you from doing stupid things you’ll regret!”

           “You’re not my mother, and you’re certainly not my fucking girlfriend, alright!” he screams, “So stop worrying about me!”

           “Uhh... (first name)?”

           The voice causes you and Enji both to turn, almost leaping apart from each other in the process, as Toshinori peeks out from behind a corner of the wall. He looks embarrassed, like he’s just walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and shuffles awkwardly.

           “I just wanted to make sure you were okay...” he admits.

            “Yeah...” you mutter. “I’m fine, Yagi, thanks.”

           “Hey, Todoroki...” he greets awkwardly. “I saw the fight. You shouldn’t let what people say bother you so much.”

           “Don’t talk to me,” Enji hisses, his voice venomous as he walks past, before huffing over his shoulder at you, “My mom says you can come over for dinner, but I don’t want see you, so don’t come.”

           “Tell your mother I have plans,” you pout, folding your arms. “But thank her for the invite.”

           “Whatever.”

           You watch his back as he leaves, and your eyes remain on the spot where he was, long after he is gone. It’s only when Toshinori coughs that you realise you’re not alone.

           “Oh, hey,” you greet awkwardly. “Sorry that you had to see that...”

           “It’s okay,” he shrugs. “I was just worried. I know Todoroki can be hot-headed, so I’m glad he has a friend like you to look out for him.”

           “Yeah,” you mutter, your eyes becoming downcast. “I don’t think we’re gonna be friends for much longer though...”

           “You have a strong heart,” Toshinori nods, avoiding your eyes. “You will always try to do the right thing... I think you have a strong sense of justice. I really admire that about you, (your name).”

           In that moment, despite your sadness over Enji, you were suddenly filled with an emotion towards Toshinori that you had never felt before. He gives you a warm smile, so bright, and invites you to eat lunch with him. You remember later on, when you were thinking back, that this was the moment where your feelings for him started.

           -----

           When you finally return to the present moment, and your eyes focus, you realised you had come to stand before Principal Nezu’s office. It’s ironic, that the one place you used to avoid the most in this school has now become the very place your subconscious seems to seek out. You give a brief knock, politely waiting for chirpy “come in!” response, before you twist the door handle, and give yourself entrance.

           You walk in to Principal Nezu’s office, spotting the animal himself sipping happily on a cup of herbal tea, as he greets you warmly. Across from him sits your husband, in his smaller form, whose entire mood lightens when he spots you. You are filled with a warm sense of belonging as you take a seat beside Toshinori, returning to a school you both used to attend, now as a happily married couple. The world has a funny way of bringing people who were meant to be back together. Toshinori takes your hand in his, bringing it to rest on top of his lap as he thumbs the back of your fingers, soothing you.

           “I must express my warmest congratulations!” Principal Nezu begins, offering you a freshly brewed cup of green tea, which you accept with a soft thanks. “All Might was just telling me how elated he is to soon become a father.”

           You glance at Toshinori who doesn’t return your look, but instead takes a sip of his own tea, and hopes that you think the heat of the drink is what’s making his cheeks red.

           “Have you spared any thought to the child’s future? Or quirk?” Principal Nezu asks, his tone entirely too light for such a heavy question.

           It takes you by surprise, and you blow a little too hard on your tea, the liquid inside sloshes forcefully, and you quickly steady it. All Might, however, seemed like he was more prepared for a question like that, and already has a suitable answer.

           “There’s already a crazy media frenzy over this pregnancy,” he begins, subconsciously holding your hand a little tighter, “and unfortunately, it will only grow more insane once our child is born. We’re still not sure what her quirk will be--”

           “Her?” Principal Nezu doesn’t fail to catch All Might’s slip up, and since the two of you were trying to keep as much about this pregnancy secret as possible – all the way down to the gender – you shoot him an annoyed look.

           “Uhh,” All Might falters, sweating a little, unable to look you in your eyes.

           “Yes,” you decide to jump in. Since that secret was out, you might as well confirm it. “Our daughter. I’m not getting any inclination as to what her quirk will be yet, but I’m sure everyone will keep a close eye on her until the suspected age of quirk development. I’m worried about her...” you trail off.

           “How so?” Principal Nezu asks, giving you a beady stare from over the rim of his mug.

           “I don’t think she’s going to be able to live a normal life,” you explain, sighing. “I don’t think she’ll ever be able to just... be herself. She will always be known as the daughter of the Monarchs – god, I hate that alias. Because of that, there are already so many high expectations. She hasn’t even been born yet, and already the world is asking too much of her.”

           “She will always be watched,” All Might agrees... before his eyes become hard. “Or targeted. It was a hard decision for us to make – deciding to have a child.”

           “There will always be ways we can help,” Principal Nezu chirps, his happy tone puts you at ease a little, but All Might is still holding your hand tightly. “I have already thought of many strategies to combat many different types of situations regarding your child, so please try not to worry too much.”

           He jumps down from his place on the sofa, to walk over and stand in front of you, happily smiling up at you. You blink down at him, a little confused.

           “I’ve heard that you have been explicitly advised to refrain usage of your quirk, is that correct?”

           “Uhh,” you begin, before sighing, “Yeah... doctor’s orders...”

           “Then why not fill your days here? You could be extremely productive~”

           “Eh?” you release a noise of confusion.

           “Wait, sir,” All Might begins, “You aren’t suggesting--”

           “Of course, I am!” Principal Nezu replies, tapping your knee affectionately.

           “I’m confused,” you confess, “what is it you’re suggesting?”

           “With the new students that will be arriving soon, we are hoping to add a new class to our curriculum,” Principal Nezu explains, “Battle Strategy and Combat Techniques - we think it will be very useful – and who better to teach it than the Pillar of Justice herself! You always were unmatched and unparalleled in combat~”

           “Hang on now,” All Might interrupts, “You’re offering her a position here? As a teacher? That’s way too much stress for her--”

           “I accept your offer,” you bluntly state, holding your hand out for Principal Nezu to shake – a binding agreement.

           All Might watches this exchange with his mouth slightly ajar, still in shock.

           “Of course, you won’t participate in any fights, or battles per say, and you won’t be in the direct line of fire, so to speak, so don’t worry about over strenuous activity or injury~”

           “Perfect!” you chirp, excited. “Wow, thank you, sir!”

           “Wait a minute,” Toshinori stresses, much harder this time, “You’re pregnant. You can’t just jump back into work when you’re in your second trimester!”

           “I understand your concern, All Might,” Principal Nezu nods, “However, wouldn’t it be more beneficial for miss (your name) to fill her days with something productive? At least for her benefit?”

           All Might is silent as he watches you.

           “Since you’re soon to start teaching here yourself, it would also make sense for you both to be close to one another, especially during this time,” Principal Nezu tilts his head, his eyes focusing on All Might’s. “If anything were to happen, she is also surrounded by pro heroes who are more than capable of protecting her – much more so than she is able to do by herself at home. Didn’t you just say you were ordered not to use your quirk?”

           You had never thought about it that way, but the principal was right. If All Might were to start teaching here, a huge portion of his days would be spent at U.A High - away from you. Since you were told explicitly not to use your quirk, that left you vulnerable. At least if you were working at U.A, not only would you be within easy reach of your husband, but you would also be surrounded by many powerful heroes, all capable of defending you, should the worst come to pass.

           All Might remains silent for a few moments longer, taking his time to understand each point that had been made. After a while, he turns to you.

           “It’s up to you,” he murmurs, “whatever you want to do, I’ll try my best to support you.”

           “Then, I want to teach,” you nod, looking to Principal Nezu, “I want to teach.”

           “Excellent!” the principal chirps, his tail moving happily. “You’ll be teaching the same class as All Might – the new class 1-A – we're holding the entrance exams for them on Monday. I’ll send you most of the curriculum, but it’s up to you to decide how and what you teach them.”

           “Can I watch the entrance exams?”

           “Of course,” the principal nods, “we will all be watching from a safe distance, and I think this would be the perfect opportunity to meet the rookies and observe their quirks for the first time.”

           “Wow,” you breathe, smiling happily. “It’ll be really strange coming back here every day again...”

           “I’m sure it will,” Principal Nezu agrees, taking your empty cup from you. You feel Toshinori check his phone for the time before he motions for you to stand.

           “We won’t take up any more of your busy day,” he explains, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, “We also have to go and pick up some new baby furniture.”

           “Of course! Have a pleasant rest of your day,” Principal Nezu wishes, adding, “please take care of each other.”

           You both bow slightly to him, as Toshinori regains his muscle form before you both take your exit. All Might takes your hand in his once more, leading you down the quiet halls. Just like you were earlier, he seems a little captivated by quiet memories from the past. You walk for a while in silence, before his voice breaks it, and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he sounded solemn.

           “The last time we frequented this school as much as we will,” he begins, “you still called me Yagi.”

           You’re a little taken aback by the realisation that he was right. The last time you were here full-time, you still referred to him by his surname.

           “Well,” you exhale, “just like you said earlier – no matter how much distance there was between us, we both knew we would always come back together.”

           “Yeah,” he smiles warmly. “I always knew.”

           “So, Yagi,” you tease, “Let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

           The day of the entrance exams had finally arrived.

           The night before, you had spent at least an hour bothering Toshinori for his advice on what you should wear to the occasion. You really wanted to wear your hero costume, but after Toshi said he would be going in his normal from, and since you were currently 4 months pregnant, none of your skin-tight costumes from your glory days would fit, so you thought it would be better to dress in your civilian clothes.

           -----

           “Okay, so, what about this?” you query, holding up a mid-length grey skirt and a navy blouse. “I think this is very smart-casual.”

           You look to your husband for his opinion on the sixth outfit choice you had shown him, watching him loll his head back on the edge of the sofa, pausing his show on Yakushima cedar trees to give you an exasperated look.

           “Honey, I think you look great in everything,” he explains, “you know that.”

           “But tomorrow, I have to look professional and chic,” you reply, frowning, “we’re going to get a lot of attention from our new coworkers when we arrive together. I can’t mess this up...”

           “You’re not going to mess anything up,” Toshinori starts, trying to comfort you, but the way you’re gripping the clothes hanger and frowning out of frustration has him changing his tactics and his words. “I like the outfit you’re holding the best.”

           Your eyes light up at the prospect of finally finding a winning outfit combination; one that had won over the only person whose opinion mattered to you.

           “R-really?” you ask.

           “Yeah,” he nods, pointing, “the skirt looks comfortable, but supportive for the baby, and the dark blue blouse matches well. It will look great on you. I think you’ll look very elegant.”

           A sudden hormonal mood swing grips your emotions as you burst out crying at his words, furiously wiping at your tears as they fall. Toshinori leaps up, suddenly gripped by a blinding fear, thinking he said something wrong, but when you throw your arms around him in a tight hug, he sighs out a heavy breath of relief, smiling softly and patting your hair. You sob out a few gargled words that he can’t really make out, but he agrees with whatever you’re saying anyway.

           “It’s late,” he notes, wiping your tears, noticing the dark circles forming under your eyes, “you need sleep. Let’s go to bed now, okay?”

           -----

           When you awoke in the morning, as usual, your breakfast was waiting for you at the kitchen table, and Toshinori was cleaning the dishes at the sink, stray soap bubbles floating up in front of him and bursting when he blows at them. You rub your eyes sleepily, sliding into the chair, looking down at your fruit salad and vitamin drink. You suppress a smile, thinking of how furiously Toshi would be cutting the fruit to make them into cute little cubes for your salad. He was really focused on making sure your diet contained a lot of vitamins and necessary supplements during your pregnancy, and had put you on a sort of meal plan, so to speak. Since he was doing most of the cooking whenever he was in the house, he would focus his dishes with you in mind.

           “Good morning,” you greet, happily, excitement swimming in your stomach as you munch on your fruit. “How did you sleep?”

           “I slept well,” he smiles, wiping his hands dry and tossing the cloth over his shoulder. “Even though its winter, you’re always really hot. So, you keep me warm.”

           “I’ve always ran hot,” you laugh. “Thanks to my quirk, I guess. You’re doing so much for me, Toshi... I’m happy that I can at least do something for you... even if it is just keeping you warm...”

           “You are doing something,” he laughs, walking over to join you at the table, stroking your hair. “You’re creating our child, aren’t you?”

           You smile up at him, offering him some of your fruit from your fork. He opens his mouth and allows you to feed him, munching happily on the food. He kisses the top of your head when he’s finished, mentioning that you should get ready soon, since you should arrive to U.A at around 8am. You nod in agreement, eating your food quickly, soon becoming nervous.

           When you climb the stairs of your vast house, and enter your large bedroom, you notice Toshinori is getting dressed in a dark navy suit. Having already pulled his suit pants on, he is standing shirtless in the full-length mirror, his enormous scar on display. You realise he is paused in his task of dressing himself to look at his wound that never really healed. His expression looks vacant, and you’re pretty sure he hasn’t even heard you come in, since there are probably a thousand thoughts and emotions that are weighing on his mind. Slowly, you walk up to him from behind. The first thing that alerts him to your presence, is the way you slide your hands across the bare expanse of his back, pressing your lips to his shoulder, catching his eyes in the mirror. Your right-hand wraps across the front of his chest, and the left finds his scar. Softly, with your quirk, you heat the palms of your left hand in a comforting manner, watching him slowly close his eyes at the serene feeling of your heat. Suddenly, his hands grab yours, and he moves away, avoiding your gaze.

           “You shouldn’t use your quirk,” he mutters, stepping away from you to slip his white shirt on. He seems like he doesn’t want to face you or even look at you, and you hate that you know why.

           The specific use of the quirk he was referring to, was something that you didn’t really consider a ‘use’ at all. Since your quirk was mainly a power type, and was used specifically for overwhelming your opponents with brute strength, something like this was so drastically different to what you usually used your quirk for. In fact, it was something you had spent a long time researching, developing, and perfecting. It was something that you had so desperately wanted to attain, but it was a skill that, truthfully, you didn’t think was possible for someone like you to achieve. Witnessing the devastating effects that your quirk had, not only on others, but also on your surroundings, was the main motive behind wanting to learn this kind of skill. There was so much destruction -- so much wreckage -- and you hated feeling like this was the only use your quirk had –- total annihilation. It was a younger Endeavor who told you to challenge the expectations of what you thought was possible with your quirk, and advised you that the best person for you to discuss this with was Recovery Girl and Principal Nezu. After various meetings, they finally found and offered a solution. It was the best all three of you could come up with, and it was more than you had ever hoped for.

           They explained that there was a kind of loophole in your quirk. Of course, your quirk was built for strength, and overpowering your opponents, but Principal Nezu realized that since your quirk was heavily affected by your emotions, perhaps you could try something with that. Emotions are powerful, too, and working with Recovery Girl, you managed to create a technique that allowed you to transfer some of your more positive feelings in the form of a soft, and comforting heat emanating from your palms. Once you placed your hands on someone else, the emotions would transfer, and spread a serene and relaxing wave that would ebb against their skin, easing negative feelings, and even the pain of others. You mainly used it for emotional hurt, and physical scars. It would take away most of the negative emotions that others related towards their injuries and pain. But one person who would never allow you to take that pain away, was Toshinori. You had tried countless times to soothe both the emotional hurt relating to his enormous scar, along with any remnants of physical pain, but he would always vehemently refuse.

           You knew that it was because he didn’t ever want to forget what happened to him, no matter how painful. He didn’t ever want to forget what All For One took from him.

           “You know,” you begin, staring at him hard. “I like you better in this form.”

           “What?” he questions, stopping in his tracks. After a few seconds, he asks why, thinking his voice was too quiet for you to hear.

           “Because in this form... in this form you look... you look like the Toshinori that never left.”

           You think that you’re trying to comfort him, and make him feel better, but as soon as the words have left your lips, you realise that you’re probably doing the opposite.

           “You know I had to leave,” he retorts, the subject still a painful memory for him -- and you think it always will be. “And we found each other again, didn’t we?”

           You remember the moment well, and how utterly overwhelming it was to see him again for the first time in years and years, so much so, that you actually didn’t recognize him at first.

           “I know,” you agree, sadly. “But to me, a part of you left to America, and just never came back.”

           He feels a painful ache in his heart when he hears your words, and says nothing, wordlessly walking to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders. He doesn’t really know what to say, since this subject was always a heavy burden for his heart, and purses his lips. You’re waiting for him to say something, anything, but he never does, choosing to hug you tightly instead. Words mean little when his actions speak volumes. You know that he has a lot of guilt from that time in his life, and even though you know he had to leave to America, the reason for his leaving was totally out of his control, and as much as he wanted to stay... stay with you – he simply couldn’t. You both said things to each other that you deeply regret, but you talked about those things, and forgave each other. That time in your life still hurts to think about, and you know it hurts him too, but now, in this present moment, you not only found each other again, but you married each other. You rose to the top together. You created a child together. You have both shown time and time again that you can rise above anything, as long as you are by each other's side.

           “I’m sorry I brought it up,” you mutter, a little sad.

           “Honey, I love you,” he replies, his words throwing you a little. “More than anything in the entire world. You know that, right?”

           You look at him, tears threatening to spill.

           “And I know that you love me,” he continues. “No matter what. But I think some things should be left in the past... for both of us. We are both different people than we were back then.”

           “Yeah,” you sigh, upset, thinking back to how different and more reckless your younger pro-hero self was. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

           “Don’t be sorry,” he shakes his head. “And don’t be sad. I know you’re only trying to help me.”

           He suddenly smiles, pinching your cheeks.

           “Today is going to be a great day!” he chirps, his expression changing quickly to something completely different. “You’re going to be able to watch the new generation of heroes rise. Not to mention, you’ll finally be able to meet my successor.”

           That’s right. You had totally forgot that the quirkless kid Toshinori had taken a liking to would be at the entrance exams too. Midoriya...? You couldn’t quite remember his name... Not only that, but he would be fighting for his place against candidates who were much better equipped and prepared than he would be. This kid had been quirkless his whole life, up until recently, and he was vying for a spot at the most prestigious hero academy in all of Japan – and maybe even the world – without having any real knowledge or control over his quirk at all.

           “How certain are you that this kid will pass the exam?” you query, stepping into your grey skirt.

           “Midoriya?” he asks, finishing his top button. “Uhm... I have faith.”

           “Toshi,” you warn, “What have you been doing with him all this time? I know that you found him way before you told me about it, didn’t you? I saw the workout and diet plans, and I know they’re not for me.”

           Toshinori pointedly avoids your gaze, trying to change the subject, hoping you’ll just let it go.

           “Can you help me with my tie?”

           But you are persistent. You place your hands on your hips, your unbuttoned blouse swaying from your movements as you walk to stand before him.

           “When exactly did you give him One For All?” you ask, your hands working at his tie as he returns the favor by buttoning your blouse for you wordlessly.

           “Uh...” he pauses, “this morning.”

           You react in shock, accidentally pulling his tie much tighter than you had meant to, and he chokes out, his hands flying up to loosen the knot around his neck.

           “WHAT?!” you yell. “ARE YOU INSANE?! HE’LL NEVER PASS!”

           “Yes, he will,” Toshinori gasps, rubbing his throat. For someone so small and pregnant, you were still so undeniably strong. “I have a lot of faith in this young man, so please trust me.”

           You frown at him. There were so many glaringly obvious holes in his plan, did he even think this through at all? This kid could literally die if he used OFA without any proper training or due consideration. Didn’t Toshi think of that? This was way too much stress for you right now. You pinch the bridge of your nose, screwing your face up in frustration.

           “I can’t deal with this,” you shake your head at him. “So, I’m going to trust you and leave this to you. It’s your quirk, after all.”

           He rubs his neck after your inadvertent attack, frowning to himself. Of course, you were right, and he had thought of every point that you had brought up, but he just needed your faith and trust. He was happy that you had given him at least one of those things.

           “We have to leave soon,” he reminds, straightening his tie. “Are you ready?”

           “Just let me fix my hair, and I’ll be good,” you reply, running a comb through your strands.

           “Do you need me to help you?”

           “No, no,” you finish, giving your hair a little fluff. “I think I'm done.”

           “Alright,” he strokes your hair, “You look beautiful.”

           “Thank you,” you reply, smiling up at him. He looked so regal... his outfit suddenly reminded you of how he used to look for formal occasions in U.A. You catch yourself staring at him for a long time before you speak. “You look so handsome.”

           “No, no,” he shakes his head, his blonde hair shifting.

           You stand, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

           “You are always so handsome, Toshi,” you murmur, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I can’t believe I married you. I’m so lucky.”

           You pull away, noting how his face is dusted red, his eyes wide. He kisses you back, hands on your cheeks, his love for you so evident in the way he smiles through the kiss.

           “My love,” he breathes. “Thank you for being my wife.”

           “Always,” you reply against his lips. “Always.”

Chapter Text

           "You should go in before me.”

           The February wind is still fresh, and although your quirk keeps your body temperature hot, you feel the need to wrap your long coat tighter around you, hands stuffed in your pockets.

           “Are you sure?” you ask, voice muffled from behind your scarf, laughing a little at the sight of him in his muscle form fumbling with the keys of your brand-new SUV.

           Toshinori had insisted you wear the whole shebang; fleeced overcoat, soft mittens, long scarf, knitted hat – and although you were only walking from the parking lot of U.A to the inside spectator's room, he was worried the cold bite in the air would nip at your skin and give you a chill.

           “If you wait out here, you’ll be cold,” he explains. “It’s okay, I’m right behind you!”

           “Toshinori,” you sigh, “I’m not cold. If anything, I’m a little hot--”

           “Well, well,” a familiar voice echoes, spurring you to turn a full 180 in place, heels scraping against the icy floor as you revisit a ghost from the past. “It’s been a long time.”

           His messy dark hair still the same as it always was, his posture unchanged. His eyes are soft as they regard you, hands deep in his pockets as he walks, and although its early in the morning, and everyone is a little tired, his expression looks as fatigued as you remember. He smirks at you; a look that goes all the way up to his eyes.

           “Shota,” you greet happily, opening your arms as you move to hug him. “It’s great to see you!”

           You feel him laugh, his chest vibrating, his arms encompassing you delicately. He whispers congratulations in your ear regarding your pregnancy, and when he pulls away, his breath is hot against the cold air, leaving a white cloud against the breeze.

           “It’s cold,” he complains, “Are you coming inside to watch?”

           You are about to answer, but your expression pales as you regard him more closely, eyes pulled to his face...

           ...and his scar.

           Deep, carved from the flesh under his right eye, it sits as a pale contrast against his skin, and serves as an always painful reminder.

           “I... I...,” you stumble, tripping over your thoughts, caught up in a violent memory.

           -----

           Scrambling, your hands are pulling frantically at the fabric of his uniform, trying to claw your way out of his steel grip, looking for an opening, an opportunity – anything. He’s pushing you out of the ring of the sports festival, arms secured tightly around you despite how much you are thrashing, because he’s trying so hard to keep you from doing something you will regret.

           “You– you!!” you scream, anger blinding, and seething, and burning, “I could have died, you bastard!! I could have died!! I-I’ll kill you–!!”

           “H-hey, (first name), calm down–!” Yagi exclaims, breathing ragged from the exertion of trying to keep you at bay, “I’ve got you, everything’s okay–!”

           And then it happens. You are so blinded by rage, and revenge is the only thing that drives you. There is a gap between Yagi's arm and his body, and when he moves, you launch your attack. It’s almost impossibly thin, spear-like, and hot enough to slice through anything – especially with your emotions this violent. It was purposefully aimed, and you hope it guides true, because if his quirk resides within his eyes, then that’s where your target is.

           Always the one to predict your movements and feelings before you yourself did, Yagi senses your plan, and nudges your arm as you release your quirk. The attack lands, but it’s off-target, millimeters so, but it saves you from maiming your classmate, and it saves him from losing an eye, even if he was left with a deep scar.

           -----

           You find yourself bowing, as far as you can manage with your stomach, eyes trained on the floor. Aizawa frowns, confused, and a little concerned.

           “H-hey, is everything okay–?”

           “I’m so sorry, Shota,” you apologise, head bowed. “I’m really so sorry.”

           He’s quiet for a moment, pondering your meaning, and then you hear him move. You feel his hand on your head, patting softly, stroking your hair as you return to your upright stance.

           “Idiot,” he laughs. “You don’t have to apologise for that every time you see me, you know. If All Might wasn’t there to catch you when you fell, then you would have died–”

           “Catch what?”

           “A cold,” Aizawa grunts, keeping the conversation strictly between the two of you upon All Mights sudden appearance, and you’re grateful. “Good to see you, All Might. I was just telling your wife that we’re all gonna catch a cold waiting for you. Hurry up.”

           All Might laughs good-naturedly, hand on the small of your back as Aizawa sets the pace in front, and you follow behind. Walking with the two of them in such a laidback way is strange. You’d look like three normal adults going about their day... if it wasn’t for All Might’s ridiculous height and build that shatters that illusion. He's tall to begin with, but in this form, his presence is commanding. It’s a little amusing comparing him with Shota, who’s still taller than you, but minuscule compared to your husband. The atmosphere is a little awkward, and All Might’s insane height when he’s in this form is domineering at the best of times, but as you shiver beside him, he’s immediately pushing himself closer to you to protect you from the cold, a large arm wrapping behind you to pull you against him.

           “We are almost inside, my love,” he voices.

           “I’m fine, really--”

           “I heard you’re gonna be teaching the new rookies,” Aizawa throws over his shoulder, pushing the door to the building open, holding it just long enough for you to step through before he releases it for All Might to catch. “Never thought I'd see the day.”

           “Hey,” you scold lightly, nudging him with your shoulder as you continue to walk, the air inside here much warmer than the outside temperature. Smirking, you say, “I’ll have you know I was asked by Principal Nezu to teach here – that's a high honor.”

           He laughs lightly in response. You knew Shota had been a teacher here for a few years already, and you wonder what it’ll be like to see him almost every day, having him as an academic colleague, rather than a battle comrade.

           “What class are you teaching?” you ask.

           “Same one as you,” he huffs, tugging at the scarf around his neck. “1-A.”

           “Are you--?”

           “Homeroom, yeah,” he finishes, pointing to a corridor, “It’s down here.”

           “Thanks,” you nod, hand subconsciously reaching out behind you to feel for All Might.

           It was a strangely unspoken thing. Ever since your bump had become visibly prominent, you had taken comfort in feeling your husband near you. Whether it was sitting beside you, or standing behind you, if you were going somewhere new, you would become a little anxious – but just feeling him there was entirely calming. You were never like this. You had never been like this. Anxious. Worried. With the pure power of your quirk, you were usually one of the most fearless and ruthless people both in life and when it came to battle. You never felt the need to be afraid when you could so easily overpower others and protect yourself.

           Except now you can’t.

           Now, you were essentially quirkless. Under strict instructions to never activate your powers, not only were you entirely vulnerable, you were also with child. If anything happened to you, it happened to Lo, too. You were sick of people thinking you were fragile, but realistically right now, you had been pushed into being just that. But you were at U.A, you try to remind yourself. You are not in danger. You know nothing here will hurt you, but you feel for him anyway.

           “I’m here,” he reminds, voice quiet when he feels your hand grasp at him, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head. “I’m here.”

           You sigh out, nerves eased, tilting your head back to look up at him, as he stares down at you, his smile soft.

           “Can you two hurry up,” Aizawa interrupts, his voice light and joking. “Just because you’re the Monarchs doesn’t mean you can ignore the rest of us.”

           “Apologies!” All Might laughs, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, tapping you to move forward and into the room.

           “Don’t call us that,” you pout at Shota, shuffling forward, muttering. “I hate it.”

           The room is dark, save for the huge array of tv monitors that line an entire wall, broadcasting the entrance exam, with seats positioned in front of them. You feel All Might return to his smaller form once the door shuts behind you and there are no prying eyes. You start to pull at your scarf, shaking the mittens into the pockets of your overcoat as you shrug it from your shoulders, glancing around the room. It looks like you were the last ones to arrive, your entrance bringing about the turning of heads, wide smiles and happy waves. Everyone in the room is already privy to All Might’s condition, so they’re not shocked when he returns to his weaker form. You’re glad you took the time to plan a good outfit and look your best, because most of the people here are Hero’s you haven't seen in a fairly long time.

           “Oh, (Hero name), All Might! Welcome, welcome!” Principal Nezu greets happily, jumping up in the chair he’s sitting on to get a better look at the two of you, offering you a cute wave. “Eraserhead, thank you for escorting them for me!”

           Aizawa mutters a ‘no problem’ before moving to sit beside the animal, slouching in his seat, staring up at the screens before him.

           “Hello, sir,” you greet, looking a bit awkward with your mound of outdoor attire folded over your arms.

           Midnight is second to greet you, jumping up from her chair and practically running over, throwing her arms around your neck. Kayama had always been a great friend to you, ever since your younger pro hero days. Just like most people, you hadn’t seen her for a while, and now, she was clearly trying to make up for that. You give her a warm smile, holding her hands in yours.

           “A baby!” she exclaims happily, her first time seeing you since word of the pregnancy, hands cupping your stomach. “A little baby! Oh my gosh, (first name) you look so great! Do you know what gender it will be? What about names? Oh my, All Might!” she calls, head whipping to stare at him, and you notice your husband flinch with apprehension. “Are you taking care of her?!”

           “Yes,” you reply with a smile, watching her attention swivel back to you, her purple hair swishing with the movement, “He is, very much so. And, no,” you lie, “we don’t know about the gender. Or... any names.”

           “Oh, (first name)~!” she squeals, hugging you again, “I’m just so happy for you!”

           “Nemuri,” you hear Cementoss call, “Let her put her coat down at least.”

           She huffs at him, pinching your cheek lightly, before returning to her seat. You stand there a little awkwardly, not really knowing what to do.

           “Uhm, where should I...?” you begin, lifting your coat and scarf slightly to accentuate your point.

           “Ah!” Principal Nezu blinks, “Over any chair is fine!”

           You nod, choosing a seat on his other side, folding your clothes over the back of your chair and fixing your skirt as you sit. All Might follows suit, sitting beside you and looking up at the screens, eyes scanning over the hopeful students, hand coming to subconsciously rest on your stomach, as he so often did.

           “You look very well today,” Principal Nezu begins, tapping your knee affectionately. “Very healthy.”

           “Thank you, sir,” you smile, clasping your hands at the bottom of your stomach. “I’m being well cared for.”

           You feel All Might shift awkwardly beside you when he overhears your praise. You turn to look at your husband, offering him a good-natured wink, placing your hand over his to intertwine your fingers, and he’s thankful the room is as dark as it is. After years of marriage you can still bring a furious blush to his cheeks.

           He looks at the side of your face, watching you view the monitors, the way your eyes focus on the screen. Your perfect skin, your soft hair, the curve of your nose and lips. Toshinori feels himself becoming overwhelmed at the sight of you sitting next to him, and the warmth of your hands.

           You lean into him. “Is he...?”

           He nods sharply, turning back to look at the pictures on the screens, not wanting to voice the fact that he’s already found a successor and he’s currently amongst the hopeful candidates. He doesn’t want to tell you who, exactly. Not just yet. Toshinori finds himself wondering if maybe you’ll be able to deduce that on your own–

           “Hah,” you laugh under your breath, nodding your head up to the screen, “This kid looks a lot like you did.” You’re pointing to a young boy with an uneasy look and curly green hair, standing alone at the back of the gathered crowd of students outside Battle Centre B. “He reminds me of you. He looks so unsure of himself and quiet.”

           “Oh, yeah?” Toshinori smirks, his voice hiding something, before he points to another kid, ash hair spiked up, stretching his muscles at Battle Centre A. “Well, this one looks just like you did. Wild.”

           “Wild?” you huff, feigning indignance and crossing your arms. “I was not wild.”

           You hear Aizawa scoff from 2 places down, and you glare at him.

           “I wasn’t that wild...” you correct with a pout.

           “RIGHTTTTT!!! LET’S START!!!”

           You almost shit yourself with fright when Present Mic’s voice assaults your hearing, blasting from the speakers of the monitors with no warning.

           “Hizashi is as loud as ever, I see,” you wince, hearing his voice screech over the sound system.

           “THERE ARE NO COUNTDOWNS IN REAL BATTLE!” he reminds, and you spot him waving his arms frantically from the top of an observation tower. “RUN, RUN, RUN LISTENERS!! YOU’RE WASTING AIR TIME HERE!!”

           The crowd of students immediately sprint through the doors of the mock city, beginning their exam... all except that green-haired kid you pointed out earlier. He’s rooted to the spot, staring up at Present Mic.

           “Run, kid,” you mutter, “don’t lose focus.”

           You’ll admit that he’s caught your eye. His tracksuit matches his hair color, and his whole vibe is timid and frail. He seems so unsure of himself, like he’s in the wrong place, with the wrong crowd. You frown a little, tossing Toshinori a look, but he fails to catch it, his attention pulled to the same screen you were watching, his eyes following the same boy.

           Hmmm... interesting...

           When you look back to the screen, the young boy is frozen in place as a mechanical target rushes towards him. The aim, you’re guessing, is much like your entrance exam was back in the day; defeat as many opponents as you can, for as many points as possible within a certain timeframe. Those with the highest point scores are offered placements, but this kid looked like his opportunity for a place at U.A was slipping from him with every second. Each time he was presented with an opponent to defeat, he would freeze up, wasting his opportunity and allowing a fellow competitor to act, and snatch his points from him. It was almost as if this kid was afraid to use his power.

           Very interesting...

           “Clearly, the examinees have no idea how many villains are present, or their locations,” Principal Nezu explains matter-of-factly. “They have limited time, must cover a vast area, and hunt down every last target. Some use information gathering abilities to plan out strategies, while others rely on speed to pull ahead of their peers. Of course, remaining calm under pressure can be a huge advantage, as can pure power and combat ability.”

           Your heart begins to pound in your chest, your eyes acutely focused on a particular boy, who seems to embody everything within Principal Nezu’s last point. His body is heaving with exertion, a cocky grin pulling at his features, the pure power from him ebbing like waves and smoke that circle around countless defeated opponents. His eyes almost as untamed as his hair.

           “Well, this one looks just like you did. Wild.”

           Looks just like you did.

           Just like you.

           Like you.

           Wild.

           “Tell me, (Hero name),” Principal Nezu begins, interrupting your thoughts, “if I remember correctly, your entrance exam score was significantly high. What was it that I said about the tactics you used?”

           You cannot bring yourself to tear your gaze from the boy, his presence captivating you. There is something about him... something strangely familiar...

           “’A dominating show of power and combat technique’,” you quote, voice a murmur, eyes still focused on the boy with ashen hair, almost mesmerized by him.

           “Ah yes, of course!” Principal Nezu chirps, “For that reason, I think it's perfect that you will become our Battle Strategy and Combat Techniques teacher. I made a good choice, if I say so myself.”

           You hum, noticing movement to your right. Ectoplasm is standing, moving towards a control board, voicing something about ‘seeing how the group reacts’ to a new opponent. You weren’t really briefed on this year's entrance exams. For all you knew, it would be just like the one you had taken 20 years prior, maybe with a few minor updates. You watch him fiddle with dials and buttons, before an ominous hum sounds throughout the examination arena.

           The cameras pan, a single new opponent unleashed, and you gawk at the pure size of it. Thundering towards the examinees – seemingly appearing from within the Earth itself; it is monstrous in size, towering over the buildings, pulling screams of shock and fear from the students. You have to admit, it’s a little unnerving, even to someone like yourself, and you wonder who among them will rush to claim the points from this gargantuan beast.

           As if reading your thoughts, Toshinori leans in close, stating matter-of-factly, “This one is worth zero points.”

           You frown, watching the children run from the robot, scrambling in a mad effort to put as much distance between themselves and the new target. The devastation it causes is widespread, and as the smoke clears, one lone boy is frozen in place. The same emerald-haired boy from before.

           “Why include it, then?” you ask, genuinely confused, voice barely above a whisper as you clench the fabric of your skirt, apprehension and fear prickling your senses.

           The boy isn’t moving – and he’s in the direct warpath of this beast.

           What’s worse – another student is caught under fallen debris. Her legs trapped; she struggles frantically to remove herself, the monster fast approaching, her time to escape quickly running out. You clench your fists, watching the young girl struggle, unable to move, her expression pure terror and hopelessness. You open your mouth to alert someone, to call a halt to the exam, when the boy from before breaks out from his trance, valiantly charging towards both her and the monster, and... jumps.

           He moves so fast, so suddenly, that the cameras have trouble keeping up with him, and then, he is airborne, soaring through the sky, right arm pulling back in a charging attack.

           “There are no combat points awarded for taking on this humongous villain,” Toshinori explains from beside you, “but there is opportunity. A chance to shine. To show what you’re really made of.”

           Your eyes are glued to the screen, wide, impossibly focused, watching the boy yell a war cry, before hurtling his fist directly into the face of the villain, sending the giant opponent careening backwards from the pure force of the impact, half its body caved in and broken as it plummets down to the ground below. You let out a cry of joy, along with the entire room that erupts into cheers at this boy’s show of heroic bravery to save another.

           “That’s right,” you hear Toshinori praise, “Show who you are. Embody what it is to be a hero. Because nothing is more noble--”

           “--than self-sacrifice,” you finish, beaming at him, and you know exactly who this boy is, without even having to ask.

           “I told you,” you smirk knowingly, voice low as you look at him with shining eyes. “He’s just like you.”

Chapter Text

           "So far,” Principal Nezu begins, walking beside you as you traverse the long corridors and halls of U.A, “These are the entrance exam results.”

           He reaches up to hand you a slip of paper, since you queried about the final results of the exam you had just witnessed. Currently, it’s still early morning, and although you’re almost positively sure you know exactly who your husband chose to be his successor, for some reason, he’s still here with you, rather than sneaking off to congratulate the boy on a valiant effort and great job. You shoot him a look over your shoulder, hoping he understands your silent confusion, since amongst current company, you’re not sure if you can openly talk about OFA and his newly-appointed successor. Instead, when he catches your look, he simply smirks at you, shoving his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket, walking slightly behind you on your route to the Principal’s office.

           There is no one in the school currently, save for a few teachers who watched the entrance exam with you, so you’re pretty sure no one is going to catch you and All Might here in this form, and if they did, the only people here are the ones who are already aware of his condition. The early morning sun is filtering soft rays of sunshine through the long windows of U.A, casting all of you in an ethereal light. Toshinori’s hair looks almost angelic, the long strands of his beautiful golden hair seem to glow, and you stare for longer than usual, mesmerized by the hue. When he catches you staring, he moves forward to grasp your palm in his, entwining your fingers. He lifts the back your hand to his lips, kissing it softly, before leaning into you a little, looking down at the piece of paper in your hands.

           You snap your attention away from him, face dusted pink slightly from his show of affection, and glance down at the paper grasped in your other hand, scanning names and examination points, before your eyes stop.

           “Izuku Midoriya,” you hum, eyes tracing the symbols of his name, focused on his zero villain-points versus his incredible sixty rescue-points, looking up at your husband discretely. The nod of his head is curt, ever-so-slight, and if you weren’t focusing, you would have missed it.

           So, this is the name of All Might’s successor.

           The long-awaited inheritor of One For All.

           “A great show of heroism from him, don’t you think?” Principal Nezu chirps happily, tail wagging. “Such valiant courage in the face of adversity!”

           You hum in agreement, passing the test sheet to your husband, releasing it when you feel his fingers tug lightly.

           “Honestly, I didn’t think he had it in him,” you sigh, balling your free fist, suddenly enthusiastic, “but that takedown was something else! And that punch!” you jab your free hand forward at an imaginary target, voicing sound effects for added emphasis to your point, laughing, “Amazing~”

           “Who was the young man with ash hair?” Toshinori suddenly asks, bringing the image of the fierce boy who had piqued your interest in the exam racing to the forefront of your mind. “The one with the strong, explosive quirk?”

           “Ah, yes,” Principal Nezu nods, fingers tapping at his chin, “He’s also an extremely interesting student. Katsuki Bakugo. He aced the written test with alarming proficiency, and he’s already highly skilled with his quirk – but his practical examination scores are what’s even more interesting.”

           “77 villain points,” Toshinori reads, making a low whooshing noise, “and zero rescue points?”

           “77 points, regardless of which category, is still a formidable score,” you acknowledge, asking, “what place does that put him in?”

           “First,” your husband answers, before remarking, “77 points... isn’t that the same score as your entrance exam results?”

           “73,” you correct, “I only scored 73.”

           “Only,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

           Your attention is pulled to the front once again when you reach principal Nezu’s office, the animal jumping a little to reach the handle and turn it, granting you all entrance.

           As always, his office space is clean and neat. The welcome sight of a comfortable sofa to rest on seems to call out to you, and you find yourself making a beeline towards it, eyes zoning in on a particular cushion that would make a great lower back support. Principal Nezu busies himself with making the three of you some herbal tea while you plop yourself down onto the sofa, stretching your legs and cupping your stomach, humming absentmindedly to Lo. You hear All Might offer to help the principal with making tea, to which the animal happily accepts, directing the number 1 hero towards some white teacups.

           You watch them make idle chitchat, your husband laughing at something the principal said, the exact specifics of which are lost amongst the sound of the kettle coming to a boil.

           “Do you want honey, my love?” Toshinori asks, blue eyes glancing back at you, slightly hunched over the table where he’s preparing your tea.

           “Yes, please,” you smile fondly at him, nodding your head, watching him spoon a generous dollop of golden honey into your steaming cup.

           He is careful when he walks back over to you, completely focused on the two cups of tea in his hands, eyes shifting between the two every few seconds. His movements are slow, and he’s being hyper aware in case he accidentally spills some near or on you. You manage to suppress a laugh at his face; eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, focus acutely limited to staring down two mugs of tea.

           When he is close enough, you reach up to take the tea he slowly offers to you, leaving your face tilted upwards, soft lips pouting. He sweats a little, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips, knowing what it is you want, and nervously glances towards Principal Nezu, who is too preoccupied with wriggling up onto the opposing sofa to notice. Quickly, Toshinori dips, bowing his head, lips meeting against yours and pressing softly. He doesn’t linger, however, too embarrassed at the thought of being caught, and awkwardly straightens up, before lowering himself to sit down beside you.

           “Thank you,” you murmur, lips smirking against the rim of the cup. “For the tea.”

           “Y-you’re welcome,” he manages, cheeks red.

           You hear principal Nezu slurp his drink unabashedly, humming happily at the taste. “So, what did you think of this year's hopefuls?” he asks.

           “There are already a few that I’m keen to keep my eyes on,” you reply, licking the residue of herbal tea from your lips. “Who knows, I might even consider looking for a successor myself.”

           “Huh?!” Toshinori exclaims, taken aback by your sudden declaration, whipping his head to the side to stare at you with wide eyes. “W-wait, seriously? We’ve never talked about that before...”

           “You have a legacy...” you shrug, staring wistfully into your cup, voice becoming quiet. “Why can’t I have my own?”

           “A-are you sure--?”

           “If you’re looking to pass on the torch – so to speak – there’s nowhere better to start looking for a worthy successor than here at U.A,” Principal Nezu smiles, showing his support, tail wagging happily. “I think it would be a great option to consider.”

           All Might sighs, shaking his head, and you can tell he’s against the idea.

           Ever since you had become pregnant, it was as if all memories from your days as an active pro hero had somehow slipped his mind. Like he had forgotten you were a ruthless fighter, with an indomitable spirit and undefeated combat history. Toshinori seemed to now favor the image of you as a dainty and delicate white lily, rather than a thorned red rose, whose only rival to her raging fury was her fire quirk itself. The only person who’s shadow she stood under was his – and no others. He was so protective of you, and it was nice – you weren’t complaining – but... sometimes... most of the time... it was if he had forgotten those things.

           You sigh, ready to bite back with a quick comment, but, thankfully, Principal Nezu interrupts you – seemingly on purpose.

           “You see, some of our students do not even need to take a practical exam, since they are accepted through official recommendations,” the principal explains, clasping his hands around the mug of his sweet herbal tea, “Such as Shoto Todoroki, or Momo Yaoyorozu--”

           You choke on your drink, spluttering out, moving your hands from your cup when Toshinori grasps at it quickly to remove it from your grip; least you spill it and scald yourself. You steady your emotions, heart pounding in your chest violently, body beginning to break out in a sweat.

           “T-Todoroki...?” you question shakily, eyes wide, “As in... as in--”

           “As in your upper classman, and former pro-hero team partner, yes,” Principal Nezu finishes, smiling as if he hadn’t dropped a gigantic truth-bomb on you out of nowhere. “His son has been accepted here through his father’s recommendation. Ah, I remember the two of you throughout your time here. Thick as thieves. Like peas in a pod. You two certainly were quite the troublesome duo back in the day~”

           You make a quiet noise of discomfort. You were aware of the fact that Enji had married and had children, but on many, many occasions, you forced yourself to forget that fact. You hadn’t seen, or even spoken to him in years. Sometimes, late at night, when your mind drifted back to that era of your life, the memories were a painful stab to your heart.

           -----

           “You waited for me?”

           It was raining. A cold day in late September, and he was standing under a single umbrella, only just large enough to cover the two of you as you stepped under it.

           “Mm-hmm,” he voices, lips remaining sealed, brilliant blue eyes serving as a stark contrast against his entirely dark attire. “They said they wanted to meet with us together.”

           “The management company?” you ask, the downpour thunderous around you, forcing you to shuffle closer to him, rain splashing against your shoes. Even with all his fire, and rage, and brutish demeanor, he refused to forget you. He refused to become a pro if you weren't there with him. He never forgot that childhood promise you made to each other.

           He nods, eyes glancing over your head, surveying the roads. The streets are quiet; the torrential rain pushing people to seek cover inside nearby shops or to flee to their cars. Your eyes follow his, taking in your misty surroundings. Seems like you two are the only people caught out in the rainstorm. If it was at all possible, Enji had grown taller since his graduation from U.A, and had seemingly bulked up even more so. Maybe it was because you weren't seeing him everyday like you were used to, but he's more befitting of a man now -- rather than the boyish kid you grew up with.

           You shiver, and he slings an arm around you, pulling you against his chest. When you were with Enji, nothing was forced. Everything always felt so natural. You shared a bond with each other that neither of you could really explain, so you didn’t fight it, and never questioned it. It was a rare feeling of companionship and belonging that life had almost never given you before, and you would hate yourself if you ever scared it away.

           “If they see potential, they could recruit us,” he explains, voice a deep rumble within his wide chest, heart beating strong as you listen to the rhythm. “This could be it – our shot at rising to the top.”

           “I graduate from U.A in a few weeks,” you begin, head tilting up to look at him, “but I feel like I have nothing to show for it--”

           “Don’t bullshit me, (first name),” he frowns down at you, “Even though you didn’t win, everyone remembers your first-year performance in the sports festival. I’d be surprised if the company isn’t considering you based on that alone. You were on all the hero channels for months afterwards. Fuck, it was annoying – people wouldn’t shut up about it.”

           “Oh... yeah,” you hum, a little absentmindedly, remembering your battles during the festival and how aggressively you fought. “I guess...”

           “You're gonna be a summa cum laude graduate with years worth of training and interning for the top hero agencies. I’m impressed you’ve achieved so much.”

           Your eyes widen at his – albeit backhanded – compliment. Hearing any form of praise from Enji Todoroki was a huge deal, since his usual personality was demeaning and dogmatic. He always had a soft spot for you, of course, but you still weren’t excluded from his rage every now and then. As much as he cared for you, he also took enjoyment in tormenting you.

           He seems to realise the weight of his words, and tuts, snapping his head up and away from you, raising his defenses.

           “But you’re still the same little ember to me,” he mutters. “Even if you’ve become the darling prodigy of U.A along with that irritating fuckhead. So, don’t think you’re hot shit just yet--”

           He cuts himself off when he realises what he said. His grip around you tightens suddenly, almost painfully so, your emotions still raw over that particular subject, and you feel your shoulders shaking a little with grief and anguish upon being reminded of something that still aches so torturously, even after years have passed.

           “Ah, shit, (first name),” he hushes, grinding his teeth at his own ignorance, brows furrowed. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to bring him up-”

           “It’s fine,” you grit, bringing a hand up to wipe your tears angrily. “I’m fine.”

           He doesn’t really know what to do. He’s always been terrible at expressing his own emotions, let alone consoling you for yours, so he stares down at you for a few seconds, watching the way you swipe at any stray tears that fall. He finds himself resting his chin on your head, shushing you softly.

           Maybe he didn’t need to say anything.

           Maybe he just needs to be there for you; like he always was.

           Like he always will be.

           Because he’ll promise a thousand times over to never do the same to you as Toshinori Yagi did.

           -----

           The two of you had went from childhood friends and schoolmates, to forming your own pro-hero duo after your graduation, to cohabiting as close teammates... all ending in becoming distant strangers. It had stayed that way for over 15 years. Ever since your sudden resignation and departure from your fiery team, the image of you and Enji together as the powerful pro hero duo, had become a ghost that stayed lurking somewhere in the shadows of your past.

           You feel your hand searching for Toshinori’s when you lose yourself in that particular memory, the grief and loss you felt back then overcomes you once more, and your other hand lifts to clasp over your mouth, muffling a sob.

           “Hey, hey,” his voice is close to you, his eyes worried. “Honey, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

           “Yeah,” your voice is shaky when you speak, and totally unconvincing.

           “Tell me,” he implores softly, hand moving to your cheek to catch a stray tear.

           “I’m just...” you begin, looking up at Principal Nezu, his face also mirroring the worry you see on your husbands, and you shake your head suddenly, smiling sadly – a poor attempt to play off your emotions. “This is silly,” you sigh. “I shouldn’t be upset about this. It happened so long ago.”

           “It’s not silly if it’s making you feel like this--”

           “Just memories,” you finally relent, offering him a small smile. “Just... caught in another memory.”

           Your answer seems to subdue him for now, and he nods, moving forward to kiss the side of your head, all embarrassment towards showing you public affection now gone when the purpose is to soothe you.

           Principal Nezu is quick to change the conversation, giving you a chance to escape your feelings when he voices, “The first semester starts a few months from now -- in April. How far along will you be then?”

           You’re thankful for the change of subject, taking a minute to work out the exact timeframe, before replying, “Around 6 months, I think.”

           “How wonderful,” he claps his hands. “I’m sure you’re excited to meet her!”

           You smile, acutely aware of how Principal Nezu did not forget the gender of your child from Toshinori’s accidental slip-up. You feel your husband laugh awkwardly from beside you, rubbing the back of his neck when you shoot him an annoyed look.

           “Have you decided on a name?” Principal Nezu’s voice sounds within the room, snapping you back to the present moment.

           “Uhh,” you pause, glancing down, wanting to keep at least her nickname to yourself as you sigh, “not really.”

           “Well,” he wags his tail happily, “When you decide on one, I would love to know!”

           “Of course,” you smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

           “Sir, thank you for the tea,” All Might begins, sensing your shift in emotions, “but I’m afraid we must be on our way. We have a doctor's appointment in an hour.”

           You’re a little confused as to what he’s referring to, since you weren’t aware of any medical consultations that you had to attend today – until you realise Toshinori’s creating an alibi to allow you the two of you to leave.

           “Ah, yes!” Principal Nezu blurts, beady eyes growing wide with shock, “My, my, I apologise for keeping you like this!”

           “Not at all, sir,” you smile, laughing quietly, waving your hands in dismissal. “It’s always a pleasure to talk to you.”

           You stand with your husband, offering Principal Nezu a polite bow, to which the animal replies in kind. He shuffles over to you, reaching up to gently pat your stomach.

           “Take care of yourselves,” he smiles, adding, “and of each other.”

           “Yes, sir,” you nod, “I promise.”

           Principal Nezu shows you out, holding the door open for the two of you as he wishes you a pleasant day, offering you a cute wave goodbye.

           Alone now, you feel Toshinori take your hand in his as he begins walking down the hall, gently tugging you to follow as he leads. You’re grateful that he created a window of opportunity – so to speak – that allowed you to slip away into the quiet once again. It, unfortunately, doesn’t stay that way for long. You’re staring up at the expanse of his back, admiring his build, when you suddenly find yourself almost colliding with it. He’s abruptly stopped walking, standing still, and you bring your hands up against his frame to steady yourself against his back. There’s no one around, and his sigh is deafening.

           “What happened back there?” his voice is not in the least bit loud, but it seems to echo against the walls inside your mind.

           You’re aware of what he’s talking about, but you pretend like you’re not. “What do you mean? Nothing happened--”

           “When Principal Nezu said his name, something happened to you.”

           He brings his hands up to rub over his face, and although you aren’t facing each other, and your eyes are staring at the back of his head, you can picture his expression. He doesn’t sound angry, but he does seem troubled. He brings his hands down to his sides, his shoulders slouching forward a little.

           “Nothing happened to me--”

           “Don’t lie to me, (first name),” he interrupts, and his lack of pet names does not go unnoticed. His voice is so quiet, almost begging when he speaks again. “Please. Please, don’t lie to me.”

           You stay silent for a moment, hands still on his back, and you bring your forehead to rest against him. Before you realise it, you’re crying, and so is he.

           “I love you. I love you,” your voice is a ghost; a murmur from your lips, “But I hate you for leaving me.”

           Your voice is barely above a whisper, as if you’re scared to say it any louder. It’s such a violent weapon – your words – and you’re afraid if you release them to quickly, or with too much force, they’ll cut him so deep that he will never be able to heal. You feel him flinch against your fingers, your tears collecting under your chin from the guilt, and your fists ball into his shirt tightly, before you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him back flush against you, wanting – needing – to feel him there. Needing his body against yours as reassurance that he’s here. He’s here now.

           “The only person I had was Enji. He was the only one there for me,” you cry, shaking with emotion. “I pretend like I understand – like I know why you did what you did, but I don’t, Toshi. I don’t -- and maybe I’m fucking selfish for being this way, but you left me so quickly, and you didn’t tell me why, and you didn’t come back. I thought you hated me--”

           You can hear him crying. You can hear how his hands fly up to his face to wipe at his tears, and you hate how the position you’re in now is exactly the same as it was when he left.

           You – clinging to his back, desperately trying to keep him here –

           – and him – facing away, furiously wiping his tears in the hopes that you don’t see him cry.

           “I had all of you – finally. I was so in love with you -- I finally let you in, we finally had each other, and I was so happy I thought I could die, and then... and then,” you sob, wailing into his shirt, “you. left. me. And you didn’t give me a reason, and I couldn’t follow. You never told me why. You just... left. You left me there, all alone, and I honestly thought I would never see you again. I knew you were the love of my life, and when you left, you ripped my heart from my chest, and you took it with you--”

           Your voice breaks as you try to keep your emotions in check, but it’s so agonising revisiting this particular memory – one that you try so, so desperately to forget. You realise that ever since he returned, you have been so overwhelmed with having him back, dating him, starting a hero agency together, marrying each other, creating a child; that you’ve never told him this. In all your years together, you never told him exactly how this affected you. You called him out for leaving, cursed at him, fought with him, but you’ve never explicitly told him how you felt. You only ever shouted at him for his actions, but you never whispered your own emotions. You feel your heart beat painfully against your ribcage, and you squeeze him tighter, impossibly close, and you’re panting, choking, sobbing, trying to catch your breath.

           “And I hate Enji for doing the same. He promised me. He promised me he’d never do what you did. But... but...” you feel your lower lip quivering, and you hate how weak you are. “He did. He did.”

           “I’m sorry!” he wails, turning around sharply, pulling you into an embrace so tight that you think you might suffocate, but you don’t care. He is still crying when he speaks, voice a little muffled when he buries his face against your neck. “My love, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He begins to comfort you, but you realise he needs that just as much as you do. “I-I never... I never--!” he curses, and it’s a strange thing to hear from him -- such strain and heartache. “You were the one person I never wanted to hurt – but... but I did. I only ever wanted to protect you, to keep you safe above everyone else, but you were the one I ended up hurting the most. I’m sorry, I...I...”

           He pulls back, hands either side of your face, his blue eyes shining, his face red from emotion, and you feel his wedding ring cold against your cheek.

           “I hurt you. I know I did. But I will spend my entire life making it up to you.”

           His voice is resolute, his expression unwavering. Your heart swells, and he must see the change in your expression – from suffering and hurt, to the way you used to look at him when you were teenagers – pure love.

           You nod, wetting your lips with your tongue, fingers wrapping around his tie to tug, bringing him down for a welcomed kiss. His eyes slip closed, and he sighs into your parted lips, pressing firmly against them, hands dropping to your waist, nudging you to step closer, to leave no space between you. You comply, hands leaving his tie to run through his hair, lifting onto your tip toes to better access his lips.

           Something sparks within you, and you find your eyes becoming hooded, your tongue swiping over Toshinori’s lips, languid and hot. He freezes, eyes wide as he pulls away a little, looking down at your expression.

           And then something sparks within him, too.

           His kiss is suddenly wild, his hands tangled in your hair, his breath slipping out in hot pants that ghost over your skin. He is fervent, his body flush against yours, tongue slipping in your mouth as he moans in time with you. His knee pushes between your legs, giving you relief where you need it most, and you bite his lower lip, rolling it between your teeth, mewling at the sensation. His moan is unabashed as his hands roam, sliding down your neck, wrapping around your waist, squeezing at your ass--

           “Damn, kids – get a room--!”

           You yelp out in surprise, jumping away from Toshinori, who looks as if he could literally die from embarrassment as he strategically hides behind you, spluttering out a string of apologies, actively avoiding all eye contact with anyone. Midnight stands a few meters away from you, one hand on her hip, a coy smirk on her face – and clearly loving the fact that she caught the two of you in such a compromising position. She laughs good naturedly, and you growl, annoyed.

           “Nemuri!” you scold, face growing red, before you burst out laughing in time with her. “You pervert!”

           “Hey!” she pokes her tongue out at you, “You guys were the ones playing tonsil tennis in the hallways--!”

           Toshinori makes a pained sound at the crude comment, hands over his face, hair seemingly just as frazzled as he is. He looks so terribly uncomfortable – something Midnight will no doubt attempt to capitalise on.

           “Hey, All Might~!” she calls, watching him shake his head violently from side to side, still hiding behind his hands, his gesture a plea to leave him alone, but of course, she doesn’t. “I’ve never heard that noise from you before! The Symbol of Peace grabbing a piece of her ass--”

           He wails, trying to drown out her words and the two of you burst out laughing. You weren’t too bothered about being caught by Midnight -- someone you considered a close friend. You were very rarely embarrassed by anything – let alone making out with your husband. The man in question, however, was a totally different story.

           All Might, in his hero form, is boisterous, loud, and confident. He is outspoken and his presence is commanding. You suppose it all stemmed from his younger pro hero days -- where he could literally do or say anything and people would comply. He would never abuse his power, though. He just... seemingly lacked the ability to read the room at times, and would just speak his mind, no matter what was happening around him. ‘Like a bull in a china shop’ – you think – were the words you used to describe him... to his face. After that incident, his mood was depressed and dejected, and he dragged his feet whenever he walked, blue eyes a little dull – if that was even possible. After watching him mope about for a few days, you were finally guilty enough to apologise to him and explain yourself better. Since that situation, he was a lot more diplomatic with his words, but continued to be the high-spirited person you had always known him to be.

           Then his fight with AFO left him brushing hands with death, and taking a formidable scar as a souvenir. Reducing him to a shell of who he once was, he adopted a more laidback attitude, and saved his boisterous antics for when he activated his quirk.

           When he’s in his smaller form, he’s a stark contrast. All shades of embarrassment and fumbling words. He’s shy, and quiet, and... almost vulnerable. Not only his body, but his heart, and his emotions are unguarded and at risk. It’s endearing; to have him so tangible. Before the fight that changed it all, All Might was always so unreachable, and unobtainable – even to you.

           You feel his forehead rest upon your shoulder from behind, the heat from his embarrassment emanating from him in waves, and for a second, you forget that you’re the one with a fire quirk.

           “Play nice, Nemuri~” you nip, voice a soft purr as you pat your husbands head reassuringly.

           “Yeah, yeah,” she dismisses with a playful wave of her hand, before casting her gaze to the windows. “Oh, it’s raining.”

           She was right.

           Heavy lashes of rain hit the large windows of U.A, racing down the pane in a symphony of silver and all things melancholy. It thrummed loud against the glass, and you make an uneasy face. You didn’t like the rain. Too many bad memories, and painful side effects from your quirk. After all, fire and water were never the most civilized of friends.

           “Ah,” Toshinori’s voice is quiet in your ear. “We didn’t bring an umbrella.”

           “You kids should make a move,” Midnight suggests, nodding to the weather outside the windows. “Before it gets any heavier.”

           “Yeah,” you sigh. “You’re right. We’ll see you soon, though?”

           “Oh, yeah, of course!” she chirps, smiling wide. “Almost every day come April!”

           “I can’t wait~!” you grin, giddy with the thought.

           All Might tugs on your sleeve – a quiet plea to come with him, and you comply, offering Nemuri a wave of your hand. You hear him fumble over a polite goodbye – still unable to look her in her eyes, and she replies with a loud quip of her own. You laugh at them, and find yourself relaxing into a comfortable feeling of happiness.

           It’s raining. A cold day in early February, and you find yourself running together, hands clasped tightly around each other's as you sprint to your car, giggling happily, desperate to escape the torrential downpour.

           His hand is warm, and it feels safe when he holds yours. Like home isn’t a place, but rather, a person -- your husband.

Chapter Text

           It’s early evening, and the sun is just beginning to set behind the city landscape, bathing the living room of your large house in a warm glow. Your brows furrow as you stare down at the seemingly endless list of words that swim in your vision, relaxing on your sofa.

           "He’s blowing up my phone like crazy...”

           You look up from your baby name book, halfway through turning the page into the letter S, to shoot Toshinori a confused look. He’s sat beside you, smiling down at his phone, and you close your book, resting it in your lap – it's not like you were anywhere closer to deciding on a name for Lo, anyways, and your head was starting to hurt.

           “Who?” you ask, stretching your arms above your head.

           “Midoriya,” he answers, showing you his phone, “My successor.”

           Your eyes focus on the screen, and suddenly, you’re gawping. There were pages and pages of messages, scrolling all the way back to the moment he finished his entrance exam a week ago – all of them remaining read yet unanswered.

           7:48am: I’m about to go in! Wish me luck! >///<

           8:59am: Hey... All Might... I don’t think I did too well... ;-;

           9:03am: Did you see me? I took out that huge villain, but it wasn’t worth any points... that was the only villain I beat... T-T

           9:07am: If my score is zero will I get in?

           9:08am: Of course, I won’t... that was a silly question...

           9:11am: All Might, are you there?

           You look past his phone to shoot him an icy glare. “What’s with the cold shoulder?” you ask, scrolling through dozens of more unanswered texts. “Are you annoyed with him?”

           4:26pm: All Might, do you think I can retake the exam?

           “No!” he rebukes, as if offended, “Not at all!”

           9:41pm: I feel really terrible. I let you down, All Might. I’m sorry.

           “You’re mean,” you pout, feeling this kids heartbreak and pain through his texts. “Why aren’t you replying to him?”

           “Because I can’t until he finds out his results,” he sighs, as if frustrated that he can’t spill the beans. “Which should be tonight.”

           “You could at least reply,” you huff, folding your arms. “He probably thinks you hate him.”

           “I do feel bad,” All Might sighs, before perking up. “But he’s probably opening his acceptance letter soon, so I’m going to message him to meet tonight!”

           “I should hope so,” you frown, still unhappy with the way he handled the situation, reopening your book. Sabrina... Sarah... Scarlet...

           Toshinori smiles at you, watching the way your brows furrow at each word you read, an idea suddenly coming to mind as he strokes your hair.

           “Do you want to meet him?”

           Your frown disappears, and is replaced instead with mild shock. The thought had never occurred to you before, but as soon as the idea is presented, you are eager to meet the boy who inherited your husband's quirk; the next user of One For All. Your excitement spikes, and you snap the book shut with force, grinning.

           “Yeah!” you exclaim, eyes bright. “Of course!”

           He laughs at your expression, nodding. “I’ll message him now – you should put a coat on--!”

           You are out of your seat before he’s finished his sentence, the excitement carrying you upstairs with haste, and towards your closet to find a suitable coat, before grabbing the nearest black baseball cap to pull over your hair, sweeping the rest into a low ponytail – essentially donning your everyday disguise so that you could go out in public with All Might.

           “Are you ready?” you hear him call from the bottom of the stairs, “he’s replied already – we're meeting at the beach in 20 minutes!”

           “I’m ready!” you confirm, descending the staircase, smiling up at him from under your cap. “Is 20 minutes enough time?”

           “We can take the car,” he nods, adjusting the collar of your dark coat, flicking the brim of your cap playfully.

           The journey seems longer than it actually was, and by the time you arrive at the beach, it’s nightfall, and the place is deserted. Toshinori parks, and you jump out, not waiting for him as you run down the wooden steps to the white sand, motioning for him to follow over your shoulder.

           “Hey, be careful!” he shouts after you, locking the car and smiling fondly at your form as you run happily, the sand kicking up behind you, the wind throwing your hair about elegantly.

           “Hurry up!” you call, waving your arms to him, jumping up and down so that he doesn’t miss your location – even though you are the only person currently on the huge beach.

           He finds himself realising, that in that specific moment, even though the landscape is beautiful – white sand against a calm sea, and a thousand stars that are dotted across the raven sky, he finds he can only stare at you, and you alone. The one thing in his life that outranks and over-compasses everything else without even trying.

           The sea breeze is soft, and it brushes against your skin as you stand at the water's edge. The clear sky paints a peppered image of stars that twinkle, pulling your vision upwards, and you inhale the salty air, your body calm, your mind at peace. You feel All Might wrap his arms around you from behind, his hands gently circling around your stomach, and you lean back into his chest, exhaling happily. He leans down to kiss your neck, holding you close, blowing arid puffs of air onto your skin to make you squirm, and you laugh at the sensation.

           “I love you, honey,” he whispers.

           “I love you, too--”

           “HI ALL MIGHT!!”

           You jerk from fright within his arms, the two of you jumping apart and whipping around to face the owner of the voice – a young boy you immediately recognise as the same curly haired kid from the entrance exams. He has tears in his eyes, waving frantically to the two of you as he sprints over, and immediately, you are both signaling for him to quiet down.

           “TOO LOUD KID!” Toshinori hisses, blood spewing from his mouth from the shock of it all.

           To say you’re taken aback that this kid knows what Toshinori looks like in his normal form is an understatement, but your shock is quickly replaced with sheer panic when you hear a couple in the distance that you hadn’t been aware of shout with excitement when they hear that the number 1 hero was in their near vicinity.

           “Way to blow my cover!” your husband whispers, adding, “Quick! Say it was a mistake!”

           The kid panics, eyes wide, his movements becoming theatrical as he exaggerates his laugh, voice loud, and plays the whole things off as a joke. By some miraculous turn of chance, the couple seem to buy the whole thing, sighing out their disappointment and wishing they could have got an autograph. All three of you sigh out in relief, calming your beating hearts.

           “Thank god,” you exhale, hand clutching your chest, and it seems as if your voice has suddenly alerted this kid to your presence, and he all but yelps out, startling you.

           “Oh, young Midoriya!” All Might is quick to announce, “There’s someone I would like you to meet!”

           The boy shifts his gaze from the number one to you, tilting his head ever so slightly. He studies you, squinting a little, trying to subtly peer under your cap to better assess your face and, by extension, your identity. At least now you knew your disguise worked better than you thought it did. To make things easier for him, you pull at your hair tie, lifting your cap off at the same time.

           “My wife,” Toshinori introduces, “(Hero name).”

           “It’s nice to meet you—”

           “WHOA, HOLY COW!” the boy cries out, stumbling back a little, overwhelmed with the sudden surprise. He manages to steady himself, but is suddenly bowing at the hip at lightning speed, his torso flying up and down while he cries out a string of – what you assume are words. “OhmygodIcantbelieveitsreallyyou–!”

           All Might sighs, a part of him knowing he would react this way. “Kid, calm down–”

           “Youresuchahugeinspirationtome! Youremyfavoriteheroafterallmight–!”

           “Kid–”

           “Andyourepregnant! CONGRATULA–!!”

           He stops only when your hand lands gently on top of his hair. He shuts his eyes a little at the contact, before opening them to look up at you. Suddenly, all his nerves disappear, your hand on his head comfortingly warm as you gently ruffle his curls.

           “It’s wonderful to meet you,” you smile softly, “Izuku Midoriya. Successor of One For All.”

           “It’s... nice to meet you too,” he replies, offering you his own smile, even if it is still a little shaky.

           “Oh! Congrats on getting in!” All Might praises, hand held out for a high-five, which the young boy quickly accepts, slapping his palm against your husbands.

           “I-I couldn’t have done it without your help!” he explains, fists balled tightly as he stares up at All Might, eyes shining.

           “Oh, speaking of which,” Toshinori begins, “I didn’t tell anyone at U.A that I’ve been training you or anything,” he affirms, noticing the look of disbelief on the kid's face. “Really. I wasn’t one of the judges and I didn’t pull any strings for you–”

           “No, but we were watching your performance,” you cut in, excitement taking over as you ball your fists, throwing them out in front of you in agile jabs, “and man! You were awesome! I’ve been thinking about that right hook for days!!”

           The young boy becomes furiously red once again, insanely overwhelmed at how you’re gushing over him, stuttering words of thanks.

           “The way you just launched at that giant robot!” you continue, expression joyful, “that took some courage, kid! Everyone else was running for cover, but you stepped in to save that girl like a true hero! You were amazing!”

           “Oh my god,” he exhales shakily, looking like he’s about to faint. “T-thanks so much, you have no idea what that means to me – e-especially coming from you, (Hero name)! R-really!”

           “Don’t sweat it, kid!” you swat your hand in front of your face in a dismissive gesture, clapping a hand on his shoulder, feeling him bow against your strength – seriously how were you still so strong? “I mean every word! My husband chose the best person to inherit--”

           “Okay, honey, I think he gets it,” All Might cuts in, laughing at the way Midoriya looks seconds away from passing out from all the praise and attention you’re giving him. “He was great.”

           “Sorry, sorry,” you apologise, becoming a little embarrassed as you rub the back of your head, looking at the boy as you say, “I’m just really happy to meet you!”

           “M-me too!” he exclaims, bowing formally once again. “It’s a great honor to meet you!”

           You bow in response, laughing awkwardly as you straighten up, the boy in front of you unable to meet your eyes.

           “Oh yeah!” he suddenly blurts, “I-I was really surprised to hear that the two of you will be teachers at U.A this year! I was wondering what brought you here--” he straightens up, hand on his chest as he states matter-of-factly, “after all – your agency is in Minato, Tokyo, and everyone knows--!”

           “Getting creepy,” All Might interjects, shooting the kid a weird look.

           “Wow, you...” you scrunch your nose up, trying to find the right words, before settling on, “really know your stuff...”

           He releases an awkward noise, slouching his stance.

           “The school didn’t want us telling anyone about the job until they made an official announcement,” Toshinori explains. “It seemed like fortuitous timing – an easy way to find someone new to inherit One For All.”

           The kid seems to ponder in thought, and you watch his expression deflate, his gaze pulled down to his hands.

           “Your power completely wrecked my body...” the boy explains, looking down at his hands, “And all I did was jump and throw one punch... I can’t control it... What do I do--?”

           “You IDIOT!” you yell, grabbing All Might by the collar suddenly and shaking him furiously, his head lolling back and forth with each movement, going dizzy. “I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN TO THE POOR KID! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!!”

           “W-WAAHH!!” Midoriya exclaims, watching the way you roughly handle the number one hero, chastising him for his inability to properly prepare his successor for such a powerful quirk. Midoriya finds himself questioning just how strong you really are, if you’re able to shake the number one so vigorously, even when you’re pregnant. Of course, All Might is in his smaller form – so that may be one of the reasons you can overpower him right now–

           “I’m so sorry,” you apologize, interjecting his thoughts, bending at the waist. You offer the kid a sympathetic look, before straightening up, and explaining, “When I first knew him, this quirk was nowhere near as insane as it is now. Since OFA is a quirk that primarily stockpiles power, the more you train, and the stronger you get, so too does the quirk. All Mights had this quirk for a really long time, and he’s been constantly improving every aspect of it – at one point he got so strong that trying to fathom it hurt my head, so I just stopped trying. It’s not my quirk, but it’s user is my husband, so I know a little about it.”

           You continue, “The quirk doesn’t alter to fit your body or your abilities, and it doesn’t lose any of itself in the process of inheritance. The version of One For All that was passed down to you is exactly the same version as he uses right now.” You tap All Might’s chest for added emphasis. “Only... it’s honed for his body... not yours. I think the reason it harmed you so much is probably because the quirk was strengthened throughout the lifetime of someone who stood at 7 foot 3, and weighed over 600lbs. It would be like trying to wear one of All Might’s shirts and expecting it to fit you perfectly straight away. I don’t know if any of that helped... He probably should have explained that to you beforehand--” you take a second to shoot Toshinori a glare, watching him shy away from you, before continuing, “--but the fact that he didn’t properly prepare you for something like this--”

           “I did prepare him--!”

           “Maybe physically!” you snap, annoyed. “But that’s not enough! You should have explained what would happen to him. You should have practiced with him or something--”

           “You’ll learn to manage it in time,” Toshinori reassures him, “Hoping to master it right away is like asking a baby to run a marathon. You still have to go through the process of how to walk.”

           “Yeah,” the kid sighs, and it sounds so sad. “WAIT-- you knew I was going to get hurt that badly?!”

           You make a disapproving noise in Toshinori’s direction, watching him awkwardly avoid anyone’s eyes as he replies, “Well... we were in a time crunch... but it turned out alright! Plus, now you know what you’re dealing with!”

           “I’m so far behind everyone,” he mutters, sadly, “I was born quirkless, and now I have this insane power, but I can’t even control it... right now, I’m useless... I can’t help anybody...”

           “Hey, when my quirk first developed,” you begin, “I couldn’t control it either. It just takes time, and hard-work. You can do it!” you beam, giving him a thumbs up.

           “Right now, your quirk is either all or nothing,” your husband explains, bending down to pick up two empty cans of what look like spray paint. “One day, you’ll learn how to control your output. Then you’ll be able to adjust exactly how much power you’re using.”

           “I just need control?” Midoriya asks, his mood brightening.

           “You’re overflowing with energy at the moment,” Toshinori begins, and you nod in agreement. “With training, your body will hold it better.”

           You feel him shift into his muscle form beside you, as he boldly states, “THEN IT’S YOURS TO COMMAND!”

           The boy seems to understand, his emotions resolute, but you’re all quickly flailing with panic when the same couple from before suddenly notice All Might.

           “Look! It really is All Might!”

           “Oh my God, no way! (Hero name) is over there too!”

           “RIGHT! NOW WE RUN!” your husband shouts, scooping you up bridal style so he can flee with you, the young boy scrambling to keep up with the sudden sprint.

           You squeal happily, feeling secure against All Might’s chest, eyes peeking behind him at the boy who grins up at you; the worthy successor of One For All. The gift he’s been given holds hands with a burden – the power of this quirk and the symbol it stands for will shape the very future of the world, but you’re at ease knowing this kid isn’t alone. No matter what, both you and your husband will be there to guide him into the bright and courageous hero you have no doubt he will become.

           For a fleeting second, when you look at this boy, he is no longer there, and instead, a young Toshinori bounds after you, golden hair wild, azure eyes shining as he reaches out for you, his spirit living on through a new generation.

Chapter Text

           April rolled around quicker than you thought it would.

           In the months that passed, Lo had begun to make her presence known, and she was feisty – like her mother. Restless and jumping, kicking up a fuss inside you at the most awkward moments, and could only be soothed by Toshinori’s voice – just like her mother. When you walked, she was swayed to a content slumber, her only movements were the adjustments she made inside you to get more comfortable. But as soon as you stopped moving or – god forbid – sat down, she suddenly had all the energy in the world.

           “Toshinori!” you cry, head lolled back against your sofa, hoping your voice carries upstairs. “Please, hurry!”

           Since he told you he was taking a shower about 20 minutes ago, you pray to whatever deity was up there that he had finished, and that he could hear your voice. A few moments later, and there are thunderous steps as he flies down the stairs in full hero form, shirtless, a white towel wrapped about his hips, bursting through the door to where you’re sitting.

           “W-what’s wrong!” he shouts, frantically looking around, before his panicked eyes land on you, a few stray drops of water still clinging to his large chest.

           You wordlessly point to your stomach, sighing, “Your daughter.”

           You hear him sigh out in relief, laughing softly when he catches your meaning. He proceeds to shrink down to his normal size, now that he knows there's nothing to worry about, and moves towards you. He adjusts the towel about his hips, lowering himself to sit beside you, maneuvering so he is closer to you, hands placed gently on your stomach.

           “Lo,” he hums, and you feel her react instantly to his voice. “What are you doing, little one? Your mother is trying to rest, you know?”

           Instead of settling, she moves once again, a subtle act of rebellion as if in response to her father. You feel Toshinori soothe his hands against your stomach, before he leans closer to whisper, “It’s okay, Lo, I’m here now. Everything will be okay. Go to sleep, and dream of beautiful things. Only a few more months until we can meet.”

           Your hands find his hair, fingers threading through his damp strands, and he turns his head ever so slightly, kissing your palm. Such a soft and intimate moment between the two of you and your unborn child that you think you will remember forever. You feel your daughter settle, finally listening to her father, and you wordlessly thank him. He responds by giving you a good-natured wink.

           “Lo’s not even born yet and she already has a favorite parent,” you roll your eyes, feeling like she’s going to take after you more than her father, but will ultimately prefer him over you.

           “That’s not true,” he laughs. “She’s probably just used to hearing your voice all the time, and it’s a change for her to hear mine.”

           “Hmm, we’ll see,” you smirk, watching him shake a few droplets of water from his hair onto his towel. “How was your shower?”

           “Lonely,” he replies, tossing you a suggestive look over his shoulder.

           “Let’s concentrate on having the first baby, before we make a second,” you tease, watching him go red.

           He averts his eyes, feeling your fingers splay against the skin of his back, tracing lazy circles, dragging your nails softly down... up... down... up...

           “You know, doing that isn’t taking my mind off it--”

           “Sorry, sorry,” you apologize with a laugh, tugging on his shoulder to pull him backwards, lips finding his.

           The kiss is gentle, and slow, and you feel Toshinori’s hand at the back of your neck as his lips work against yours. It’s hazy, and dazzling all at the same time, and you find yourself moaning a little at the sensation. He smirks into the kiss, and your fingers find the space where you know he’s ticklish, poking.

           “H-hey!” he yelps, pulling away and laughing.

           “You’re dripping all over me,” you shrug, all nonchalant, swiping his cheek to catch a stray droplet of water. “Go dry yourself.”

           “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, squeezing your thigh. “Do you need anything for tomorrow? I already prepared lunch – it’s in the fridge, and if you want to arrive a little earlier, I think--”

           His voice drowns out when you realise tomorrow will be the first day of term. It’s arrived much quicker than you expected, and, soon, a whole new chapter of your life will begin. The excitement you feel kindles rapidly, and you feel Lo stir inside at the emotion. She was more perceptive to her mother’s feelings than you thought she would be.

           “-- honey?”

           His voice comes fading back into focus, and you startle.

           “W-what?”

           He laughs, a soft and golden sound, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You were miles away. I was asking if you if you want to arrive to U.A a little earlier tomorrow?

           “Oh,” you blink. “Uh... yeah, sure.”

           “Perfect,” he hums, leaning in to once again claim your lips quickly, before standing. “Alright! I’m going to finish getting ready.” He leans down, close to your bump, hand splaying over your stomach. “Be good for your mother, little one.”

           You watch him as he leaves, feeling your daughter comfortably settle once more, and you laugh, shaking your head, so full of love and adoration. Your hand finds the television remote, pressing the ‘on’ button, the large tv screen flickering to life with bright colors and sound. Aimlessly, you begin shifting through various channels, with nothing particular in mind that you wanted to watch, promising to stop only when something caught your attention.

           And it did.

           At first, you assumed it must have been a news broadcast, but upon further inspection, it turned out to be one of the more popular hero channels. The station was dedicated to up-and-coming newbies, showcasing a glimpse inside big agencies, giving detailed information regarding sidekicks, and of course, updating the public about the pros themselves. It was a good channel – you found yourself watching it every so often when you had a few spare moments, but this time, when your gaze landed on the headline, you realized it was all about you.

           Ushering in a New Age!! Updates on the Reigning Monarch’s Dynasty!

           You bristled a little when you read the title. So, they were doing a piece – or what was more than likely a continuing piece – on your pregnancy. You knew the public would be wild with anticipation about the birth, and there must have been endless opportunity for these types of channels to capitalize on it. You had always been worried that you would be swarmed in public if you went out without a disguise, or that somehow, the media would get wind of where your home was located, due to their newfound manic obsession. Thankfully, you and All Might had somehow been able to keep your place of residence hush hush, but really, it wasn’t too hard to manage.

           On the one hand, it was endearing. So many people were so overwhelmingly happy that you had become pregnant, and they wanted to know as much as they could about it. Both yourself and All Might were such a huge part of everyone’s lives, so you couldn’t really blame them for having an interest in yours.

           You watched the show with a piqued interest, listening as the presenter explained the next segment.

           “As we all wait patiently for the birth of All Might and (Hero Name)’s child, we want to offer our continued support and encouragement!” the man beams, adjusting his glasses. “It may be difficult for some of us to truly show how much we value and admire these two amazing pro heroes, so today, we will be taking to the streets of Musutafu to give citizens the chance to send a message to our Monarchs!”

           You laughed a little, cheeks glowing red. People really cared about you so much, and even created a show where they could have the ability to voice their love, in the hopes that you were listening.

           “H-hey, All Might! (Hero Name)!” a young woman appears on screen, carrying her groceries, stopping to address the camera. “I’m so happy for the two of you! I hope everything goes well and the baby is healthy!”

           “Thanks,” you smile, knowing she can’t hear you, but feeling the need to reply nonetheless.

           The clip changes to a group of high school boys, just finishing their school day, on their way to the arcade with soda cans in hand.

           “Yo!” they cheer in a chorus, waving enthusiastically, “All Might! (Hero Name)! Congrats on the kid!! We think you guys are awesome, and someday your kid is gonna grow up to kick ass just like the two of you!”

           You bark a laugh at their words, balling your hand into a fist as you reply with resolute nod, “She’s gonna kick ass like her mother, for sure!”

           The next clip shows a mother with her small son, who stays shyly hidden behind her legs, until the mention of both your husbands and your own hero name prompts him to move forward, grinning wildly as his mother laughs.

           “All Might and (Hero Name) are both so kind and wonderful. All Might actually saved my husband once, so I owe him my deepest gratitude. As for their child, I wish the baby all the happiness in the world, and as much love as any mother can give!”

           You are about to reply, thank her, tell her that her kid is cute, but the sharp ring of your doorbell interrupts your thoughts. You frown, pausing the show, thinking it was just your imagination, but when you stand, moving from your large living area to your arching hallway, there is something visible outside the one-way glass of your front door. Toshinori is still upstairs somewhere, and although you are a little reluctant to open it when he’s not in the near vicinity, something tells you that you should do it anyway.

           You twist the handle, pulling the door open, your gaze pulled upward to the end of your long driveway as a black SUV with tinted windows pulls away. You frown a little, the expression only doubling when you glance down at whatever it was that had been left outside your doorway, before it melts in shock and is quickly replaced with joy.

           Someone had left you a magnificent bouquet of flowers.

           You gasp at the gesture, realizing it probably cost a small fortune, what with the size and intricacy of arrangement, deducing that it was more than likely another pro hero who had sent them to you.

           You bend down, and, with a little difficulty, manage to lift the flowers, kicking the door shut with your heel as you move back inside.

           They sit striking and glorious, on the middle of a glass table in your hall, and you take a moment to simply appreciate them. You loved flowers, and whoever had gifted these to you seemed to know as much. The bouquet had a beautiful theme of pinks and peaches, complimented by a splash of white here and there. It really was arranged perfectly. Peach roses of an almost perfect blossom peek out from under the opened heads of a dozen Amaryllises; pink and flushed. Blushing and rosy Camellias are threaded and woven amongst snow-white tulips, their faint contrast only adding to the captivating delicacy of the bouquet. You notice a sprinkling of Lily of the Valley, always so dainty, that, despite its small size, is not overshadowed by the pink Peonies it gently sits above.

           You only realize you are brought to tears by the sight of the flowers, when Toshinori’s hands swipes at them, kissing your damp cheeks.

           “A pregnancy gift?” he asks, moving closer to the bouquet, fingers tracing the delicate pattern of their petals.

           “I think so,” you reply, swiping at any stray tears that still threaten to fall.

           “There’s a note here,” he voices, fingers gently delving below the surface, and retrieving a white card.

           You notice he doesn’t read it, instead holding it out for you to take, since he knows this gift is more than likely for you, and you alone, and so, too, is the note. You take it from him, feeling the thick material has a soft coating to it.

           Your eyes take in the words, handwritten, in a beautiful cursive; but there’s no signature. No mark for you to know who the bearer of this wonderful gift is. The offeror choosing to keep themselves anonymous, to everyone, it seems, but you. It’s vague enough to pass as a cute play on words, but if the handwriting alone wasn’t enough for you to immediately know who this was from, the phrasing itself serves only to confirm what you already knew.

           You’ve finally made your own Little Ember.

           Congratulations.

           You hold the card to your heart, your smile so bright, tears collecting under your chin. You hear Toshinori ask who it’s from, and you reply that you're not sure.

           “Probably either a new hero or a seasoned pro,” you lie, wanting to keep the identity of the sender a secret, swiping the tears with the back of your hand, eyes never leaving the flowers, even when you hold out the card for him to read. “They left no name.”

           “Huh,” he voices, eyes skimming the text a few times. “That’s really nice of them. You must be someone they really look up to. This thing is huge, and it doesn’t look cheap.”

           You laugh at his comment, arms wrapping around his midsection, feeling him pull you in for an embrace.

           -----

           “It’s cold out here, so I promise I won’t be long,” you hush, pulling him down for a deep kiss, fingers tangling in his blonde hair. “But I have to do this.”

           “I know, baby,” Toshinori whispers, hood up over his head, laughing against your lips. “I’ll wait here.”

           You watch him lean back against his car, one foot coming up against the metal as he nods to you, a signal that you should go. You shove your hands inside your coat pockets, grinning at him, a cold January wind whips about your frame, but does nothing to quell your giddy excitement.

           You climb the stairs to the entrance, face mask on, but one of the nurses recognises you right away, and offers to escort you to where it is obvious you wish to go. You are silent as she walks ahead, the halls of the private hospital quiet in the early hours of the morning, and when you reach the designated floor, she tells you the room number, and bids you good night.

           Your stomach is full of butterflies, and as you approach the room and peer in, you notice there is only one person inhabiting it, and she is asleep. Of course, she is. She looks exhausted, and you don’t have the heart to wake her simply to ask where he is. You glance around the large room, noting the abundance of flowers and balloons, before you turn your gaze, and set off towards finding him.

           Surprisingly, it doesn’t take you long to locate him – or rather, by now you should know that it isn’t much of a surprise at all. The two of you were literally twin flames.

           He is sitting, alone, in a dark lounge, the floor to ceiling windows overlook the city skyline, and the sight in itself is breath-taking. You don’t know how to approach him, or what his reaction will be. You had taken your formal leave from your hero agency and left your duo just months prior, and the two of you didn’t exactly end on good terms. A fight, albeit verbal, between two fire users was never the most civilized.

           “Hey, Embers,” he greets, voice quiet, acutely aware of your presence.

           The use of your old nickname sets your nerves at ease, and you move forward, closer to him, watching as he adjusts his grip on something.

           Your breath hitches before you speak.

           “I came as soon as I heard the news,” you breathe, hand on his shoulder as you peek over, staring down at the sleeping child in his arms, swaddled in white.

           It’s so surreal, and you don’t say anything for a moment, simply looking at the child with your heart swelling.

           “He’s beautiful,” you breathe. “He looks just like you.”

           “So, I’m beautiful?” he smirks up at you, the familiarity settling around the two of you like a warm blanket on a cold night.

           “Shut up,” you laugh, wiping at your tears.

           He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Oh, God, don’t cry--”

           You hit his shoulder lightly, before your hand comes to rest at the back of his neck, thumb swiping over his skin softly, comfortingly, so proud of, and happy for him. He seems to lean into your touch, and you stay that way for a few moments, both of you staring down at the small baby, before his voice breaks the soft silence.

           “Do you want to hold him?”

           Your heart leaps, and you nod, opening your arms to receive the small bundle. It’s natural for you – almost too natural, you note – having a child in your arms. Enji watches as you rock his son gently, your smile so soft, eyes filled with so much love.

           “I have a Little Ember of my own now,” he whispers, standing and moving behind you, arms on your shoulder as you both gaze down at his son.

           “What’s his name?” you murmur, coddling the sleeping baby, adjusting his blankets so they don’t cover his face as much. The child stretches in his sleep, small fingers finding yours and wrapping around your ring finger.

           You can almost feel the pride in Enji’s voice when he answers.

           “Touya.”

Chapter Text

           You are lost in your dreams again.

           A thick, earthy smell of wet foliage overcomes your senses before anything else, and when your bare feet pace the damp ground below, you realise you are in a woodland; somewhere deep in the heart of a forest. It fades into focus; deep juniper tones thread themselves through various ferns, and weeds, fallen leaves and giant kapok trees. You aren’t sure if you’ve been here before, even though the entire places feels so familiar. It’s somewhere so vast and encompassing, and when you look up, you are barely able to see the night sky through the thick canopy of leaves. Your hands find stability against the thick trunks, guiding you along a pathway that is both unclear and recognisable all at once, pulling you somewhere, deeper into the abyss, whispering guidance towards a fate unknown.

           The darkness of the forest slowly ebbs away the more you progress, until it clears. Suddenly, and all at once, you are at the edge of a wide lake; green willow trees weeping at the edge of the water like a sad prayer, Asphodel’s reaching up to greet them in their own song of melancholia. There is a soft mist that seems to unfurl from the water itself, and even though it is dark, the moonlight and stars shine on the surface of the lake like an unearthly mirror to the heavens. It’s eerie how quiet your surroundings are – absent entirely of birdsong and any comforting sounds of life.

           The hairs on the back of your neck stand, and you are coated in a cold sweat, the tell-tale feeling of panic gripping your throat, trying to suffocate you, squeeze the life from your body.

           This fear is unique, singular, and all at once, entirely recognizable.

           White clovers and yellow Cinquefoil’s blossom where you stumble to your knees, silently screaming, hands flying out to catch yourself; in the shadows of your footprints, under your palms, brushing against your skin. You are heaving, and thrust your gaze upwards as soon as you feel him before you.

           His clothing is pure black, like his soul, his face is brutally scared and without features.

           All For One leers down at you, a wretched smirk pulling at his lips, and the horror encompasses you entirely. You want more than anything to scramble away – to put some kind of distance between the two of you, but you cannot move. Fear and panic keep you rooted to the spot, and in the corners of your mind, you realise your stance.

           You are bowing down to him.

           Amaranths of a crimson hue are surrounding him, blossoming before your eyes, and in his arms, he cradles a jarring bouquet of Bird’s-foot trefoil and Lobelia, the deep lavender color striking against the glorious yellow, and it painfully aches when you stare, stabbing into your skull sharply.

           You can no longer distinguish dream from reality, since everything feels so real, and you truly think this is where it ends; this is where you die. You force yourself to release a sharp burst of fire from every inch of your skin – no matter how pointless your attack may be against him – pulsing outwards like a solar flare, the temperature as high as you can physically push it, but nothing happens, and you’re sobbing, because he’s taken your quirk, and you’re going to die. You’re going to die alone, here, without your daughter, without your husband, where no one can hear you scream, where no one can listen to you sob your last words.

           His voice is muffled when he speaks, and you feel his palm come down to rest against the crown of your head, and, in a sickening motion, he strokes your hair. It’s disgusting, and terrifying, and he just laughs, black rose petals falling from his wretched lips, and you only realise you are screaming when you waken.

           Toshinori jerks upright, abruptly pulled from his own slumber, terrified by the sounds of your distress. He grasps onto you, shaking your shoulder, voice frantic as he tries to calm you. You confuse his touch for All For One’s and without thinking, your quirk activates; the bed sheets and the duvet combust in an instant, and Toshinori has to revert to his muscle form to protect himself from the heat of your flames, whipping away as your fire hisses violently from your terror.

           “H-honey, aah--!” he pulls his hand back sharply when your flames target him. “E-everything is okay! You were just having a nightmare, but you’re okay, now! You’re not in danger, nothing will hurt you--!”

           Your eyes are not your own, and you snarl at him, arms wrapped defensively around your stomach, flames acting as protection barrier to shield yourself and your daughter, rather than as an active attack.

           “(First name),” his voice is strong, stern, but not without tenderness.

           You blink... once... twice... flames dying along with your fear when you see your husband before you, cerulean eyes piercing.

           You are shaking, and, before your fire has completely dissipated, Toshinori is crawling over the bed, through the flames, arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his wide chest. You sob violently, crying into his shoulder, and he stays in his larger form so that he can entirely surround you; so that there is nothing you can see, or hear, or feel, except him.

           “Honey, it’s alright now,” he whispers, kissing your head. “It’s okay.”

           He feels you nod, and your shaking subsides.

           “It’s been a long time since you’ve had a nightmare like that,” he hushes, hand caressing the skin of your back. “Was it... the same one?”

           You nod.

           “I-I... I burned you... didn’t I?” you ask, voice quiet.

           “Not really,” he hums, a half-truth, shifting down to his smaller form when he feels your breathing is calmer. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

           You shake your head, fingers grasping around his sleeping shirt at the thought of him leaving.

           “Are you alright?” he whispers.

           You don’t know if you are, but for his sake, you sigh, “Yes. I’m fine. I’m alright.”

           He’s grateful that you’re not too upset, but he worries nevertheless at the reasoning behind your situation.

           This dream was something of a recurring and traumatic nightmare for you.

           It had first shown itself a few weeks after his first fight with All For One; when the pair had left each other with irreparable injuries. Where you had triggered your awakened state in such a desperate attempt to save him; pure fire, and rage, and dread, and fear. The fight had pushed you to your absolute limit, and even further, scraping, clawing at your soul, because you knew that if you didn’t give it absolutely everything, then Toshinori would have to worry about not only fighting the man who killed his mentor, but also protecting his new wife. And you could not live with yourself if you didn’t completely throw everything into that fight.

           He almost died that night, and if not for you who had carried him all the way from the battlefield to seek emergency aid, he is sure that he would have. It must have been terrible for you, aching and beaten from the fight, even after it finishes, you still have to hold on for the sake of someone other than yourself. You still have to worry about him.

           “Please help him,” you gasp, the full weight of All Might’s unconscious and barely breathing form is draped over your small body, the pure weight of him crushing you with each second that passes. “I think he’s dying.”

           Your frantic voice rings in his ears as he revisits a painful memory.

           “Please, save him,” you beg, hot tears streaming down your face, dripping down onto your damaged hero suit, your body burned and bloody, wounded, scarred. You grip the side of his bed tightly, sobbing at recovery girl and gran torino. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he dies.”

           He grimaces, frowning hard. Your hero alias was so fitting. The Pillar. You’ve always been his. Ever since he can remember, you’ve always been supporting him.

           And now, because of him, you have demons that will never leave you, that creep up on you when you’re asleep to terrorize you.

           He kisses your face, wiping your tears, “Everything is okay now, my love.”

           You hum in response, feeling Lo move within you. Toshinori feels it too, and his mind immediately moves to something else that might not be as impervious to your quirk as your bed was. You feel his hands slide from your face, kissing you softly, before they move to your stomach.

           “Is she...” he trails off, not really knowing how to phrase his question.

           “S-sorry,” you apologize, becoming suddenly upset once more, “I-I didn’t realize I had used my quirk--”

           “It’s okay,” he hushes, “It’s okay... is Lo... is she reacting?”

           “Only a little,” you voice, feeling your daughter move, “But I think I just startled her... she’s fine.”

           He sighs out in relief. “That’s good... come here...”

           He pulls you down with him, holding you close, shuffling so his chest is to your back, his arms wrapping around you. You hear his soft breathing in your ear, his quiet words of comfort as he lulls you back to what you hope is a dreamless sleep.

           It’s late at night, and you feel terrible for waking him like this when the both of you have such an early start and long day ahead of you tomorrow. Why the hell did you have to have that nightmare on tonight of all nights? And why did your quirk react in such a violent way?

           Tomorrow was supposed to be the dawn of a new era... so why were the dark shadows of your past chasing you?

Chapter Text

           “I doubt that lessons will start straight away.”

           You pause between a mouthful of cinnamon oatmeal, watching Toshinori as he straightens his tie, sipping coffee from his “no.1 Hero dad” mug – a cup you had made for him when you first became pregnant. You were currently eating a delicious breakfast, careful not to spill any on your first-day outfit, eyes glancing over your lesson plan for class 1-A that you had made weeks previous in preparation for today. You shoot him a curious look.

           “What do you mean?” you ask.

           “Today will probably be more laidback,” he shrugs, adding “Isn’t the first day of school where the kids get to know their teachers and peers?”

           “Oh,” you utter, pondering his words, asking, “You mean like ice-breakers?”

           Come to think of it, maybe that would be a better way to introduce yourself and to get a feel for the class...

           “Yeah,” he nods, “You should use ice-breakers! I have a feeling that your class is going to be pretty demanding for them, so it would be nice for them to have a little fun before they jump right into it. Especially when their homeroom teacher is Aizawa...”

           You smirk at him, pushing the paper away from yourself. “I guess you’re right. Aizawa is definitely going to push them hard. But that’s a good thing, too, I think...”

           You see him nod behind his mug in agreement. “I think so, too. But I know you’re going to push them just as hard... maybe even harder... I know you.”

           You think for a minute, but you knew he was right. It didn’t matter what class you would be teaching, whatever subject that Principal Nezu gave you, you would strive for the class to pass it with flying colors. Thankfully, Principal Nezu had given you a subject that you had a whole lot of expertise with. Battle Strategy and Combat Techniques were two things you had relied upon the most when it came to fighting villains and stopping crime. After all, the best defence is a good offence. This was your opportunity to give back to the rising stars of the future, and you had a wealth of knowledge to pass on.

           “Yes, well,” you sigh, smiling, “either way, I’m excited to meet them.”

           “Shall we leave?” he asks, sweeping your empty bowl into his hands, scurrying off to the kitchen to clean up. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

           “I’m ready, I’m ready!” you stand, “Let me help you wash the dishes--!”

           “No!” he jokes, swinging around from his position in front of the sink, swatting at you with the spoon you were using to eat your breakfast. “Go and put your coat on, honey.”

           You ignore him, and reach across for the sponge, wanting to help out either way. He is faster than you, however, and scoops up some soapy bubbles from the filling sink, blowing them swiftly at you when you lean across him. You release a shriek, laughing as you dodge the incoming barrage of bubbles, leaping away.

           “Coat,” he reminds, bumping your shoulder with his elbow, hands already wet from washing up. You stand still, contemplating. You really did hate that he was doing everything...

           He raises a hand full of soap suds again, aiming at you, his lips pulling into a smirk as he threatens you with a face full of bubbles. “Go.”

           You huff, leaning up to kiss his cheek, and at the last minute, stick your tongue out to lick him. He yelps, and you run away cackling, too fast for him to get you with any soap suds this time. When you descend the stairs, you bring his coat with you, a small white flag gesture. He eyes you suspiciously, taking the coat slowly from your outstretched hands, as if he’s worried you’re going to try and trick him.

           “Hey,” you begin, helping him shrug his coat on, feigning hurt, “you like it when I lick you in other places--”

           “H-honey,” he stutters, cutting you off, blushing furiously.

           You suddenly have a wicked idea, your expression turning innocent, yet your eyes gleam darkly.

           “What?” you ask, pouting. “You don’t like my tongue~?”

           He gives you an incredulous look, pausing in his task of buttoning up his coat.

           “Please don’t start talking about things like that,” he begins, not able to look you in the eye. “You know what it does to me--”

           “What does it do to you?” you breathe, stepping closer to him, fingers toying with the buttons of his coat, looking up at him from under your eyelashes. “Does it make you want to--”

           He cuts you off swiftly, lips against yours, silencing your words and thoughts. One hand finds the back of your thigh, lifting it to wrap around his hip, securing it in place as he presses himself against you, while the other comes to rest at the back of your neck, fisting your hair, tugging tightly. You cry out softly at the sensation, giving him an ample opportunity to delve his tongue into your parted lips. He tastes your mouth, growls into you, and your fingers thread through his golden hair, urging him to deepen the kiss. You’re panting, and he’s made you a mewling mess in seconds. As soon as he was all over you, he steps away, removing himself completely. You make a pitiful whine at the loss of contact, watching the way he smirks.

           “What?” he murmurs, straightening his tie and fixing his hair. “You don’t like my tongue?”

           You are dumbfounded at hearing your own words suspended in the space between you, the exact sentence a teasing jab from the lips of the man you had previously toyed with. You huff, folding your arms, lips swollen from the kiss, and heart pounding.

           “That’s not funny--”

           “Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, all the way up to his eyes, patting your head affectionately. “I couldn’t help myself. You’re so cute when you’re needy--”

           You poke him in the ribs, indignant, and you don’t fail to notice the way he licks his lips – whether it was subconscious or not.

           Oh, you’re definitely getting him back for this.

           He can see the mirth swimming in your eyes, and he can sense your brain is sifting through a hundred different tactics that you are more than likely going to use against him to get your own back.

           “What are you plotting?” he asks, eyes regarding you curiously, a smirk on his lips, and you notice some of your lipstick has transferred.

           You lick your thumb, reaching up toward him – but it’s a ploy, of course. He goes to pull away, thinking you’re going to wipe something from his face, because he doesn’t want to give you the chance to rope him in for another make out session. It was hard enough stopping the first round, and he knows he really doesn’t have the willpower or strength to resist you if you try to tempt him with round two. If that happened, the both of you would definitely have to apologise to the Principal for being at least an hour late on the first day.

           “What are you--”

           Your hand moves from its path towards his face at lightning speed, snaking round to clasp the back of his neck, jerking him down so he is eye level with you in an instant. You smirk, tongue lolling out to drag a slow line across his lips, humming at the residual taste of your cherry lipstick that dances against his lips.

           He is frozen, and blinks.

           Once.

           Twice.

           Well...

           He pushes forward, closing the distance between you quickly, into your welcoming lips, both hands grasping at the backs of your thighs as he lifts you, securing your legs around his hips as he rolls his clothed crotch against yours, groaning at the sensation.

           …better late than never.

Chapter Text

           “30 minutes late on our first day,” you grimace, sighing audibly, glowering at your reflection in the drop-down mirror of your SUV. “This is so unprofessional.”

           “30 minutes isn’t too bad,” Toshinori adds light-heartedly, pulling into the teachers parking area of U.A High. You notice his voice growing low, as he mutters under his breath, “It could have been an hour--”

           “Toshinori,” you snap, sending him a glare that quickly melts into a fit of giggles, the both of you snickering at each other.

           “Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, fingers settling to the inside of your thigh as he uses one hand to reverse park the car, squeezing your skin against his palm. “It was great though...”

           You find yourself humming a little at his comment, thoughts immediately thrown back to his body flush against yours, his hands caressing every inch of your skin, laboured breathing, delicate expressions, and his breathy whisper of your name against your lips as he came.

           “We should do it more often,” you voice, unclipping your belt and pushing the door open. He sends you a mildly shocked look, but you don’t elaborate, simply stepping out and closing the car door behind you, motioning to him through the glass to hurry up.

           The two of you somehow miraculously manage to sneak in to U.A without anyone noticing, and despite all of his hulking presence, All Might can be deathly quiet when he wants to be. Since you were 30 minutes late, and the students were supposed to arrive 20 minutes ago, walking through the quiet halls of the school proved less challenging than you expected, and you follow your husband with a hint of guilt.

           You had no classes scheduled for the first half of the morning, choosing instead to sit in the teachers' lounge and mentally prepare fun ice-breaker activities for the students, while your hands threaded through golden hair. Toshinori’s first lesson wasn’t till after lunchtime, so he decided to nap instead; head resting in your lap as you sit, long legs stretched out over the sofa the pair of you had chosen to occupy. You wordlessly play with his hair, hearing his breathing deepen the more relaxed he became.

           At 11am – your time had come, and you rouse Toshinori from his nap, his eyes blinking up at you, before he sits, allowing you to rise from your position on the sofa – but not without wishing you luck with a soft kiss. Setting off to your very first lesson of, not only the day, but the entire year, soft butterflies flutter about in your stomach. You thought you would be able to get from the teachers lounge to class 1-A relatively easily, since you knew your way around this school like you knew the features of your husband's face, but seeing as it was currently lesson changeover, you were immediately swarmed by students at the first opportune moment.

           They had seemingly surrounded you, from every side, and by the looks of them, they were all simultaneously starstruck and exhilarated at the sight of you. None of them touched you, and they all stayed a respectful distance away, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how they all seemed to talk at once.

           “Oh my God, no way--!”

           “(Hero Name)?! Teaching here--!”

           “Can I have a picture--?”

           “How’s the baby--?!”

           “You brats,” you hear a familiar voice call, and like an angel of dishevelled tiredness, Aizawa rounds a corner, eyes finding yours, his mere presence seeming to part the students like the Red Sea. His eyes glow red, his hair levitating and his scarf was slowly being unwound from around his neck. Some of the students squeak in fright and depart before they even hear his next words. Even you have to admit, Aizawa could really turn the intimidation on when he wanted to. “Beat it,” he growls. “(Hero Name) is here to teach students of Class 1-A, and unless that’s your class, you’d better scram.”

           Seemingly not needing to be told twice, the small group of remaining students scurry away, but not before they wave happily to you as they depart, faces beaming. You wave back at them good-naturedly, turning to watch Aizawa return to his normal sleep-deprived style.

           “Cons of being the number 2 hero, I suppose,” he huffs, motioning for you to follow him.

           “Sorry, sorry,” you apologise. “Am I late?”

           “Not by much, which is weird for you,” he replies, and you realise that’s probably what tipped him off – you were usually extremely punctual. “Thought you’d got lost, or – as I was more correct to assume – surrounded.”

           You send him another apology, content in following happily. When you remember, you offer him a health drink you brought along, since you were worried about his constant state of tiredness. He takes it from you with a gruff thanks, unscrewing the lid and sipping every few seconds. It’s not long before the pair of you arrive at your destination; Class 1-A.

           “Thank god you’re finally here, though,” Aizawa blurts, his voice as monotonous as usual as he strides back inside his classroom – your old classroom. There is idle chitchat that reaches your ears – most likely from the students inside, who had talked amongst themselves in the absence of their teacher. Aizawa holds the door open for you to step through, whispering as you pass, “I could use a break from these little turds.”

           You bark a laugh at his comment, all bright and sunshiny, and the foreign noise grabs the attention of every student.

           It was the first moment Class 1-A has of you; head thrown back, carefree laughter spilling from your lips, and it was so... human... so ordinary... that for a second, each of them wonders who you could be. That is, until you regain your composure, and all eyes focus on yours.

           Then, there is a shift in the atmosphere so strong, you receive a little bit of whiplash. You blink at them, each one seemingly becoming a mirror image of the other – eyes blown wide, mouth agape, rigid body, stock still. You’d seen this kind of reaction countless times before.

           It was shock.

           It’ll wear off soon and likely be replaced with a frenzied scramble to talk to you or get near you.

           That is, unless someone snaps them out of--

           “Okay, listen up,” Aizawa drones, and they each whip their head towards him in surprising synchronization, and it’s a little freaky, if you’re honest. The man continues, leaning on his desk, “No introductions necessary – but I’ll do one anyway. This is (Hero Name); current pro hero, number 2 ranking, one half of the Reigning Monarchs--” You shoot him an annoyed look that he ignores. “--and one of your teachers for this year.”

           There’s a sharp inhale that a few students make, others have grins that erupt over their features. Sensing the quickly brewing mania, Aizawa holds a hand up to interrupt them.

           “One class a day. She’ll teach you Battle Strategy and Combat Techniques,” he explains, and, as a mere afterthought, adds, “Please don’t harass her about All Might or her child. She’s here to teach you, not divulge intimate details about her personal life. Understand?”

           The class nods, firm and rigid, some outright staring at you, not breaking eye contact, others seemingly unable to even look in your direction.

           “Fantastic,” Aizawa huffs, standing, and moving to the door. He has a smirk on his face when he passes you, and you know whatever he’s thinking of can’t be good.

           As his hand grasps the handle of the door, pulling it open, he turns back to you, voice low and quiet.

           “Your Majesty,” he bows sarcastically, waving his hand theatrically as he exits the class backwards, closing the door behind him.

           You make a mental note to punch him the next time you see him, sending him a thunderous glare.

           Turning back to the class, you suddenly feel insanely awkward.

           Every single one of them is sitting impossibly straight, posture unnaturally perfect, eyes holding yours. It’s so quiet inside the class, you think you could hear a pin drop. You take a moment to scan their faces, looking at each in turn, before you notice Midoriya. Your eyes linger on his for a second too long, and he softly waves at you, a small and discrete motion of his hand at the side of his desk. You’re thankful, and you go to return his wave, but quickly realise you have to act like you don’t know him, turning your half wave into an awkward scratch of your neck. This was horribly embarrassing.

           The boy sitting in front of All Might’s successor catches your eye, and there's a white-hot sensation that creeps up from the base of your spine, and you know exactly who this boy is. Ashen hair that spikes up aggressively, ruby eyes, commanding aura.

           With a villain score of 77, he’s the boy with the strong explosive quirk from the entrance exams.

           Bakugou Katsuki.

           Bakugou notices you staring at him, and feels his palms become even sweatier than they were when he realised you had walked into the class. He’s sweating so much, so profusely, that his palms and armpits are becoming wet. Why the hell were you staring at him? He’s so embarrassed... he wishes he would have done his hair, or straightened his outfit, or sat up more – something... anything – if he knew you were going to be here at U.A.

           Wait... why the fuck did he care what you thought of him? He scrunches his nose. You were nothing special.

           Except you were.

           He hates it, but it’s you.

           Of all the fucking heroes that he could meet here, it was you. Standing there. Right in front of him. Fuck, you were so much prettier in real life – if that was even possible. Knowing, seeing all the things you’ve done – your fights, your battles, your heroic duties, your overwhelming power, your strength, your kindness, you’re deserved rank – his breathing becomes shallow, and he grips the fabric of his trousers violently hard. You were here! In the same room as him! He can’t deny it at all. You were his idol. His monarch – no; to him, you were like a God. Everything he wanted to be was because of you. He wants to do what you’ve done; to rise like you, and someday soon, stand beside you as an equal.

           It’s because of you that he wants to become a hero.

           The boy scrunches his nose at you, and you quickly look away, thinking you’ve offended him. Dammit, he was someone you were interested in watching, and now you've pissed him off.

           You sigh sadly, before replacing your emotions with a happy smile, beaming out at them.

           “Hi,” you greet, laughing a little. “I’m really excited to be here. This used to be my class actually,” you muse, “I have a lot of good memories from this school--” and a lot of bad ones too-- a voice inside you reminds, but you hush it quickly. “I think that the future number one is sitting in this class right now, so I have high hopes for you guys. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure all of you achieve greatness, and once I...” you trail off, glancing down at your stomach and patting it lightly. “...after, I’m going to devote myself to you guys as much as physically possible. You are the future generation that will carry the torch onwards, so I’ll promise to do my best to guide you.”

           You bow to them after your little monologue, and it’s a solemn promise. You really do believe your words. And you really will give 110 to these kids.

           “Well then,” you clap your hands, “I think it would be nice if we all got to know each other, right?” you speak, one hand coming to lean against the desk to your left, your entire attitude laidback and open. “I’m going to be your teacher for the foreseeable future, and I’ll see all of you almost every day, so why don’t we try to become close?”

           The class seems to sit straighter with each word that leaves your mouth, hanging on your every syllable, and you hope their attention is solely on you because of what you’re saying, rather than because of who you are. The whole point of this ice-breaker exercise you’re about to present them with is to knock down the walls and barriers that these kids have – with themselves, with each other, but most of all – with you. To them, you are an untouchable deity; a goddess of fire who will step down from her unearthly pedestal of pure power to teach them how to be like her, for an hour a day, before she regains her crown and returns to ruling them with her all-powerful husband.

           But that’s not what you want at all. You don’t want anyone to think of you like that, and you never did. Least of all these kids. These students are the next generation, who will rise to greater heights than you can ever hope to achieve.

           You don’t want them to revere you.

           You want them to trust you, as a mentor, and as a kindred spirit.

           “To become close, we have to get to know each other, right? And to get to know someone, you have to ask them questions,” you hint, and you pick up on a shift in atmosphere – excitement. You continue, “We’re going to be doing a few ice-breakers, and for our first activity, you will all get to ask me one question. Only one; so, think long and hard about it. It can be about anything you like. The catch? I have to tell the truth. No matter what. I cannot be vague, and I have to answer honestly and sincerely.”

           There is excited murmuring that hushes around the class, and you fold your arms.

           “I’m trusting you guys,” you smile, laughing awkwardly, knowing that you’re really going out on a limb here. Sure, you’d probably conceal the truth about some topics – mainly All Might and his quirk, but you’re hoping you can tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “Are you ready? Give me your name first, and then ask your question. Let’s start from left to right.”

           You turn your head to the far left of the class, eyes falling on the first student, a boy with a sparkling aura and blonde hair. You look at him expectantly, and he blushes.

           “Hi,” you greet, shooting him a warm smile.

           He becomes terribly embarrassed, feeling the whole attention of the class shift to him, along with the sole focus of the number 2 hero.

           “A...Ah--” he begins, “Yuuga... Yuuga Aoyama.”

           “Nice to meet you,” you smile. “So, Aoyama. What’s your question? You can ask me anything you like~” ...please nothing weird, please nothing weird, please nothing weird--

           “H-How did you become so fabulous~? ☆”

           You blink. Once... twice...

           You... were not expecting... that...

           “U-Uh,” you begin, a little confused by his line of questioning, watching him rest his chin in the palm of both hands, purple eyes waiting on your answer expectantly. “I’m... not sure?”

           The answer is clearly not satisfactory for the class, and you laugh.

           “Well, if by fabulous, you mean strong, and/or popular--” He nods quickly, and you smile. “--then I guess I would say... practice... as much and as often as you can. Your quirk will grow as you grow, and much like how you run every day to improve your time, or lift light weights and gradually increase the load to improve your strength, so too must you work your quirk. Everyone has the ability to develop a strong quirk – you just have to be dedicated enough to keep pushing yourself.” You nod resolutely, feeling like that question gave you the ability to turn your answer into something that was actually worthwhile advice.

           The boy seems satisfied with your answer, staring at you with adoration, and weirdly unblinking.

           “Okay!” you chirp, eyes moving behind him to a girl with pink skin and hair, dark eyes and horns. “Are you ready?”

           “Yep!” she beams, grinning wide as she leans forward on her desk. “My name’s Mina Ashido! You’re so beautiful, (Hero Name)! I want to know about a romantic moment between you and All Might! Like, first kiss, or the first time he asked you out!”

           You laugh, coming round to the front of the desk so you can lean on it. “Thank you – and good choice!” you praise, watching her expression brighten. The rest of the class seem to agree with her choice of question, all wanting to know the answer as well. “A romantic moment between myself and All Might...” you trail off, fingers coming up to tap at your chin, your other hand smoothing over your bump absentmindedly.

           You can’t tell her about the first time you kissed Toshinori. You have a lot of guilt over that particular moment. Because the first time you kissed him, was the last time you saw him for a long, long time. The first kiss the two of you ever shared was when tears stained his face, blue eyes were shut tight, and he kissed you, like it was the last thing he would ever do with you, and for a long while, it was.

           You shake your head slightly, ridding your mind of those thoughts. Now was definitely not the time to be dwelling on those kinds of memories.

           The whole class hangs on your every breath, all seemingly moving forward, perching on the edge of their chairs, waiting on your words.

           “Oh, I have a good one!” you suddenly exclaim, “A romantic moment between myself and All Might, huh? I can tell you about the first time he told me he loved me?”

           The girls of the class squeal, and the boys look just as excited. Ashido beams, “Yeah! That’s perfect!”

           “Okay, okay,” you find yourself becoming red at the thought of having to tell this story, crossing your arms as you begin...

           -----

           Your phone screen flashes brilliantly in the dark as you bring it up to your face to check the time.

           It’s a little after 9pm, and you wince at the startling brightness; a sharp contrast against the darkness of the night as you stand at the edge of the hillside, your view a perfect scene of the Tokyo city skyline. The stars are visible from here, high up and away from all the lights of the buildings and cars below, and you inhale the cold night air, eyes scanning the heavens in contented silence.

           Toshinori had asked you earlier to meet him on top of this hill; your secret spot – a place the two of you had found together, and somewhere you had come to adore. The two of you would regularly meet here at night, to train, or eat, or fill the air with laughter and deep conversations. This hill was sacred; a treasured place. A shared secret.

           A night like many nights before, Toshinori had messaged you to meet, at the usual time, in the usual spot, and you waited patiently for his arrival, always early and punctual. It’s not much longer that you notice his form from a distance, trudging up the hill to your left. You wave your arms theatrically to signal your whereabouts, jumping a little and beaming brightly, your stomach already filled with a thousand butterflies at the sight of him jogging to meet you.

           He’s close now, and you run to embrace him in a warm greeting, noticing fresh bandages across his fingers and face. He follows your gaze, before he laughs awkwardly.

           “Ah,” he exclaims, a hand settling about your waist, the other remaining behind his back. “I’m okay! I was just training before I got here!”

           “What are you hiding, Yagi?” you question, trying to peer over his shoulder, noticing him jerk away from you quickly. You laugh, aware that for some reason, he cannot meet your eyes. “What’s with all the secrecy? Are you shy?”

           “H-Huh?” he begins, scratching the back of his head, eyes suddenly trained on the floor between you. “A-actually... there’s... a reason... I asked you to... you know... come up here and meet me... tonight...”

           You tilt your head at him, slightly confused. Why was he acting so skittish all of a sudden? You take a large step, moving quickly to stand before him, fingers dancing over the front of his shirt, softly poking his stomach.

           “Are you keeping secrets from me, Yagi~?” you hum, laughing when a dark red hue blossoms over his nose and cheeks. “What’s the reason you asked me to meet you here then?”

           He screws his eyes shut tight, and you hear his breathing increase, his free hand balling into a fist.

           “I...” his voice falters, and as he coughs to steady himself, your expression falters when you begin to think that there may be something wrong with him.

           All of a sudden, your vision is swimming with a beautiful bouquet of what looks like handpicked flowers. You blink, slowly at first, and then very quickly, at the flowers, up at him, and then back again. The scent of them fills the air between you and your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Pink and lavender roses, white carnations, and his hands were shaking when he presents them to you. You are shocked into silence at their beauty, at the gesture, but most of all, at who you are accepting them from.

           “I’ve felt this for a really long time, (first name),” he begins, voice strong like he’s forcing himself to be unwavering. “Ever since I first saw you, and it’s only grown since then. You... you're so beautiful, a-and strong... and you never back down no matter what! You’re kind, a-and true to yourself, and just being near you makes me so happy. You amaze me. I think... no... I know... that I... I...” he shuts his eyes tightly. “I really love you!”

           Your arms fly around his neck, and as your bodies press tightly together, you feel him release a shaky breath. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him tighter, your hands threading through his hair, and you whisper the words back to him, tears of joy running down your cheeks, your feelings finally out in the open. Finally, you have him, all of him, here, in your arms, now, and forever.

           -----

           “And then what?”

           You snap your head up, a little lost in the memory, blinking slowly. “What?”

           “Then what happened?” Ashido asks, eyes wide, “You said you guys hugged... then what?”

           “One question only~” you tease playfully, watching her throw her head back and groan in disappointment.

           “Okay, next!” you clap your hands, eyes moving behind Ashido to a girl with dark green hair and large eyes, greeting her warmly with a smile.

           “Hi, (Hero Name),” she greets, voice thick with an accent you are sure has something to do with her quirk, “I’m Tsuyu Asui, and I really want to know who your favorite hero is – besides All Might. I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned a hero who you idolised...”

           You think for a moment on her words, frowning slightly when you realise she’s right. You’ve never publicly stated who your favorite hero is, mainly because... you don’t have one. You’ve never given that topic any thought before. All Might was someone you always respected and admired entirely above everyone else, and he was someone who captivated your entire attention and love, so that would have been the logical answer... but she specifically asked who your favorite hero is besides All Might...

            Well, you did say you had to tell the truth…

           “To be honest, Asui,” you shrug, looking a little lost as you smile, “I don’t... I don’t have a favorite hero. I respect every hero that’s a part of our society. Every job they do, everything they contribute to our community, no matter big or small, is worthy of respect and admiration. If not All Might, I... don’t have a favorite hero. I’ve never really thought of it before...”

           “Noooo!” Ashido wails, frowning, “You have to pick one!”

           You laugh at her expression, happiness swelling inside you at how the students seem to be warming to you and the mood of the classroom slowly becomes more relaxed.

           “Okay, okay, fine,” you sigh exasperatedly, throwing your head back as you release a groan, a few of the students laughing at your reaction. “If I have to pick one... I would say...” you think about it for a few seconds longer, rummaging through the depths of your memories of encounters, and interviews, and shows, and co-op missions, before you settle on one you feel would overshadow all other choices you could make. “The Flame Hero; Endeavor. We knew each other really well when we were younger, and we were even a Hero Duo together. Even though we haven’t spoken in a long time, he’s someone I deeply respect and love.”

           There seems to be a general consensus of happy acceptance and growing warmth reverberating around the class, but not lost to your sharp senses, is the way a boy with two-toned hair and heterochromia bristles at the mention of the Hero’s name.

           Surely not...

           Same color of red.

           Same tone of blue--

           “(Hero Name!)”

           Your kindling thoughts are extinguished when someone shouts your hero name. You snap your attention back to reality, eyes focusing on the owner of the voice. A boy with impossibly straight posture, square glasses and dark blue hair throws his hand up in the air, waiting, albeit a little impatiently, for his turn.

           “Ah, yes, I’m sorry,” you apologise, “Go ahead.”

           “No need to apologise, (Hero Name),” he adjusts his glasses, bringing his hand down once your attention is settled on him. “My name is Tenya Ida, my quirk is Engine, and my question is this; what is the best advice you can offer aspiring heroes such as ourselves on becoming a pro?”

           “Great question Ida!” you chirp, “The best advice I could offer you right now in your current situation, would be to take advantage of the support you are given. Especially since all of you here have been admitted to the Hero Course of the most prestigious Hero school. You are all going to learn from well-accomplished pro heroes who have a wealth of knowledge ready to pass down to you. Don’t waste it. Always be ready to ask questions, or seek advice. I’m always open and here to help you, too. You have to push yourselves, every day, constantly, and never forget why you started. Someday soon you’re going to be exactly where you worked so hard to be. Do your best. Always do your best.”

           “Thank you, (Hero Name),” Ida stands, bowing formally at the waist to you, before he sits back down.

           “U-uh, you’re welcome,” you nod, laughing a little at how serious he is. “Next, we have...?”

           “Ochako Uraraka!” a girl with a round face, short bob and cute pink cheeks smiles, and although she becomes a little embarrassed when you give her your full attention, she nevertheless asks her question with confidence. “Do you have a name for the baby?”

           You sense the entire class is holding their breath in anticipation, and, thankfully, you’ve caught a loophole in her question. She’s not asking what the name is, but rather, if you have one or not.

           “Actually...” you begin, tapping your stomach lightly, thankful that Lo is seemingly asleep for the moment. “No.” The class exhales sighs of disappointment, and you shake your hands in a quick backtrack. “I’m not keeping anything from you! I said I would be truthful, right? To be honest, it’s been really hard for All Might and myself to come up with any names, or decide on one. Actually, I’m a little worried we won't come up with one in time... but! We do refer to our baby using a nickname!”

           The class looks at you expectantly.

           “Hey,” you smirk, “Uraraka asked if I had a name for the baby, not what the name was~”

           They all release a groan, smiles dancing on their features at being caught out, and your heart swells at the comfortable atmosphere that’s enveloping the classroom.

           “Next up~!” you chirp, eyes moving to the front desk of the second row, and to a boy with blonde hair and a thick tail.

           “Hello,” he greets, smiling back at you. “My name is Mashirao Ojiro, and I really want to know... How did you earn your nickname; the Pillar of Justice?”

           There’s a low echo of oooh~’s that reverberate around the class, all seemingly impressed with Ojiro’s question. Even you have to admit that his choice was good.

           “Hmm~” you voice, eyebrows raising as you smirk. “That’s a good one. How did I get my nickname, huh?” you pause, looking around the class for added effect, before you answer, “All Might gave it to me.”

           “No way!”

           “Wait -- really?!”

           “Ah man, so awesome!”

           “Yep,” you laugh. “When we were younger, and we both used to attend U.A, we were really good friends. He would always tell me that he thought I had a really strong sense of justice. That I would never back down from something if I knew it was morally right, no matter how many people stood against me...”

           -----

           “You know,” he begins, legs crossed as he pulls some grass from the Earth, the city lights dancing on his face, and the cold night air rushing through his hair. “You’re so strong...”

           You look at him, vision ghosting over the side of his handsome face, lights dancing in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

           “I mean,” he readjusts his position, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbows, hands out behind him so he can lean back on them. “You have a strong sense of justice. You’ll fight for what's right, even when no one else will. I think you’re someone that can support and protect a lot of people.”

           “Like a pillar?” you laugh, scrunching up your nose at the strange metaphor, but Toshinori thinks it's perfect. Strong; unmoving, unshakable.

           “Yeah,” he beams, eyes falling to yours. “Like a Pillar of Justice.”

           -----

           “Alright!” you thrum your fingers against the desk, looking to the boy with a confident smirk and blonde hair, a streak of jet black across the right side of his bangs. “Next, we have--”

           “Denki Kaminari,” he introduces, pointing his thumb at himself, before he gushes, “It’s so cool to meet you, (Hero Name)! My question is; how did you and All Might first meet?”

           “Aww, man,” the boy behind him groans, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes in frustration as he whines, “I was gonna ask that one!”

           You chuckle at their already comfortable aura, answering, “Here at U.A! He’s a little older than me, so he was already in his third year by the time I became a first year. We kinda just fell in with each other... I think maybe through mutual friends introducing us, but we became close really quickly, so we would always hang out with each other whenever we could.”

           Kaminari’s eyebrows shoot up, and he states, “Whoa, so you guys were high school sweethearts?! Man... so cool...” you notice he has sparkling tears in his eyes, and a few other members of the class are clutching their hearts at the sentimentality of it all.

           You raise your brows slightly to the boy with furious spiky red hair sitting behind Kaminari; a welcoming invitation for him to begin.

           “My turn!” he nods, grinning wildly, “The name’s Eijirou Kirishima, and I really want to know a time where All Might was the manliest! Like, super awesome manly!”

           “Oh, that’s a good question, man!” Kaminari turns in his seat, and the pair high five.

           You take a second to think, inhaling slowly as an answer to Kirishima’s question pops into your mind, preparing to take a dive into the painful past as Class 1-A waits patiently for you to tell your story...

           -----

           “You ran squealing to a teacher?!”

           You flinch under his words, and the ferocity at which he said them.

           “I-I’m really worried about you...”

           Shifting uncomfortably under his furious glare, it becomes extremely difficult to look him in the eyes. Where was all the fearlessness you held whenever it came to him? When others would scramble to run away, you would always stand your ground. Spurred on by your passion to right his wrongs, to set him on the straight and narrow, to be the only one who could knock some sense into him. Your fear was usually drowned out by the comfort of knowing this was your closet friend. You only ever had each other's best interests at heart... right...? So why, now, did you feel so... afraid...?

           “Worried about me?” he echoes, his scoff sounding like thunder to you. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, (FIRST NAME)?!”

           You yelp at his sudden screaming, ducking just in time to watch him cave in the lockers behind you with a wild punch. No way... did he seriously... mean to hurt you...?

           “W-what are you doing—?!”

           “You little bitch!” he seethes, and you’ve never heard him this angry before. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

           “I’m worried about you!” you stress, hands coming in some kind of soothing motion meant to quell his fury, but it ends up pissing him off more.

           He was quick to anger – always had been. A side effect of the quirk, you see. You had it, too, and it was just as bad... but it took longer for the rage to envelop you than it did him.

           You stumble over your words, and they spill out with no rhyme or reason, tumbling from your lips in some kind of frenzied plea to get through to him.

           “You’re fighting!” you begin, “Y-You keep fighting! Y-You shouldn’t be fighting at all! I don’t understand why you can’t just ignore them – w-why do you have to hurt them so badly?! I’m worried you’re going to get caught, a-and then you’ll be kicked from the course – f-from the school! I can’t do this without you! I’m trying to get advice from the teachers – I-I'm trying to help you – please believe me!”

           He scoffs darkly, and you think that’s when your heart broke for the first time.

           “Don’t you dare think, for even a second, that I need, or even want your help,” he bites, spittle flying from his mouth with the venom at which he pronounces each word. He slams both hands either side of your head, leaning down threateningly. “You’re such a burden to me, and you always have been. I have to constantly put up with your whining, and your bitching, god--!!” he grabs your upper arms, and you realize this is the first time he’s ever put hands on you. “Do you realise how much shit you’ve caused for me?! Can’t you take a hint? Or do I have to fucking spell it out for you?! We. Are. Not. Friends!” Lies. “We never have been!” Lies. “You’re just some fucking girl who I couldn’t get rid of!” All lies.

           You cry. You can’t help it. Ugly sobs fall from your lips and globs of tears drop down your cheeks as you wail, wounded by his words. He shakes you violently.

           “Fuck! SHUT UP!!” he screams. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!!”

           “I’m sorry!” you cry, closing your eyes, unable to look at him anymore. Your lips are quivering, but you can’t stop wailing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry--!”

           His grip tightens considerably, and you wince, inhaling sharply.

           “E-Enji,” you cry, heartbroken, “y-you’re hurting me—!”

           “Todoroki.”

           It’s stern, and entirely lacking his usual bright tones.

           It’s dark and foreboding.

           It’s a warning.

           You snap your head towards the source. Yagi’s blue eyes are dark as they comb over the situation, hands in his pockets are removed and balled into fists at his sides when he notices just how tight Enji is holding you.

           “(First name),” he calls softly, and it brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. Like a candle in the darkness; the soft rising sun after a frozen winter's night, his voice is so beautiful. That was Yagi Toshinori – your savior. “Come here,” he voices, pleads, outstretching a hand to you, a gesture for you to move to safety. He doesn’t remove his eyes from the boy grabbing you, though. Not even once.

           Enji allows you to slip from his grasp, and straightens up, shoving hands into his pockets, sneering at you as you retreat quickly from him, and into the arms of someone he hates.

           “What the fuck do you want, orphan?” he snaps.

           Your mouth falls open at his insult.

           How... how could he? You had told him that in confidence, making him pinky swear to never utter it again. He had promised. Yagi had told you about his situation in a pure moment of trust, you were the only person he ever had told – he was shy about it, ashamed, and Enji had used it to wound him. He’s cruel... he’s cruel... he’s so cruel...

           “You here for that?” he juts his chin up, sharply nodding at you. “Thank fuck, man. Take it, please. Give me some fucking peace for once.”

           He’s not referring to you by any pronouns, demeaning you further, cutting, slashing, wounding you any way he can think of. You flinch from the attack, and a small part of him wishes he wasn’t so angry all the time.

           Yagi remains silent, refusing to take his eyes off the boy who seems to take pleasure in hurting others, his arms coming up to pull you against his chest tightly. It’s warm, and soft, and he smells like home.

           “You know, you two are perfect for each other,” Enji smirks, continuing his assault, glaring at the show of affection. “Both of you are fucking useless. Worse than trash. You’re nothing, and you’ll amount to nothing. N o t h i n g,” he annunciates. “I wouldn’t piss on you even if you were burning alive.”

           They are like night and day.

           “Apologise to her.”

           Where Enji would have lost it entirely at the first comment, and beat his opponent into an unrecognizable mess of blood and bruises, Yagi lets the insults ricochet off him, seemingly unaffected and unfazed by anything that was thrown at him.

           “Huh?”

           He’s so strong. You stare up at him in awe. Toshinori Yagi was... amazing...

           “I said, apologise to her,” he repeats, slowly. “She’s your friend. Don’t hurt her like that.”

           Enji looks at you.

           Your eyes are filled with such adoration as you stare up at the blonde boy holding you close, your fear chased away, tears wiped from your cheeks by his soft touch, held in the arms of someone who you trusted to keep you safe.

           He realises then that you were in love.

           “Fuck you,” he spits, enraged by the realisation. “And your whore.”

           Before you know what’s happened, Toshinori spins you, pushing your body behind his, taking the entire brunt of the vicious barrage of flames that Enji sends hurtling towards the two of you. He’s effectively using himself as your shield. You feel nothing. Not one iota of heat, no stinging burns, no residual pain, nothing. Toshinori had willingly defended you from an attack that would have otherwise severely burnt even you. He didn’t even need to think about it. He just knew he wanted to protect you no matter the cost. You had suffered enough. No longer. Not while he was here.

           “Y-Yagi!” you cry out, gripping the back of his uniform as the fire eases, horrified. “A-are you alright—?!”

           He’s totally unharmed.

           Only his uniform is burned, and Enji looks feral; nostrils flared at his failed attempt to physically hurt you.

           You’re stunned that he went this far...

           ...someone you thought was your closest friend... had tried to hurt you so badly...

           Yagi does... nothing. He removes his arms from their defensive crossed position in front of his face, brows knitted together as he glares at his attacker. Enji’s mouth hangs open, and admittedly he’s shocked at his own actions. Sometimes, when he’s angry, he feels like he’s not entirely in control of himself. He panics, and reaches out for you.

           Yagi flinches, as if expecting another attack.

           Enji stops. Pulls back.

           When a few moments pass in silence, and the threat of a second wave dissipates, Yagi strokes your head softly, and Enji hears him tell you everything is okay now, pulling you into a hug. The two of you are holding hands when you pass by, and something unsettling in the depths of his heart rears its head.

           Guilt.

           Jealously.

           He curses under his breath.

           Eyes are locked on yours as you pass, almost pleading with you to look at him, but you don’t meet his gaze.

           “I’m sorry,” you whisper in the air, just low enough for him to hear. “But I won't stop caring for you.”

           He balls his fists when he is finally alone in the hall.

           Idiot. Annoying. Nuisance. Stupid, stupid girl.

           He cries the whole walk home.

           A few days later, you heard around school that Todoroki Enji’s father had beat him.

           He had been absent from U.A for a week, and, as the rumor went, it was because the teachers found out about all of his fighting. Not wanting to expel a golden student with such a bright future, they excluded him for 7 days. Although you knew the reasons behind it were true, you also had a sickening feeling deep in your stomach that it was because of what happened between the three of you in the hallway that late afternoon – because he attacked another student with his quirk.

           When he finally arrives back to school, he comes with varying degrees of injuries – the best being a cut lip and a black eye.

           The worst is a broken arm.

           You are called into a meeting with principal Nezu, Yagi, Enji and his father. Both yourself and Yagi are given a formal apology from the young Todoroki, overseen by the tea drinking head of school. You both sincerely accept, but seemingly not placated, his father, Mr. Todoroki, forces his son into a low Saikeirei – one of the most formal bows, used only to show high respect, and a strong sense of guilt.

           You bow back, but not quite as low.

           As they leave, Enji shoves something discretely into your hand.

           A single white tulip.

           Your heart breaks for a second time.

           -----

           You changed his name when he came up, of course, and even omitted most of Enji’s appearance entirely. Can’t have students learning that the number 3 hero was a little bit unsteady in his youth... or a whole lot unsteady... slightly unhinged...

           Cruel.

           You shake your head. Your answer was more or less an extended version something along the lines of; ‘All Might used himself as human shield to protect me’.

           The kids were stunned, gasping, cheering. All Might was amazing – a true hero, defending his love against anything and anyone.

           Re-telling that story leaves an ache in your chest that deep breathing cannot chase away. You don’t want to linger on it anymore, and breeze through the next couple of questions with feigned interest and smiles.

           “Do you and All Might have any pets?”

           You shake your head, no. “But we want a puppy!”

           “If you could change your quirk for one day, which quirk would you choose?”

           Something amazing like teleportation. “Or maybe time control?”

           “How can I become someone whom others look up to and trust?” It’s asked by Mezou Shouji – a boy with multiple arms and a mask covering the lower half of his face.

           “Be kind. Be gentle. Be honest. Just be yourself,” you smile. “I’m sure you are all of those things already, and I know that people will start to look up to you and trust you soon enough.”

           A girl with headphone jacks sprouting from the lobes of her ears and a bored expression perks up when it’s her turn, fingers twitching in anticipation. “My name is Kyouka Jirou, and I want to know... if you could go back and tell your younger self 3 things that would better equip you for who you would become in the future, what would they be?”

           You are a little taken aback by the depth of the question, and you stare at her for a few seconds while you ponder your answer. Three pieces of advice that you would give to your younger self to prepare her for what was to come. “Stay true to your heart. You know what you want, and if you lie to yourself about it, the only person you’re wounding is yourself. Keep focused. Things will happen that you cannot control, and you’ll blame yourself for them. Stay focused on your goal. And... make sure to say ‘yes’ when he asks.”

           The class giggle at your light hearted ending, as you wiggle your ring finger at them, showing the embellished diamond band.

           Next up is a boy with black hair, and large, cylindrical elbows. He smiles wide when your eyes meet and readjusts his position on the chair nervously.

           “I’m Hanta Sero, and I want to know how you came up with the names of your ultimate moves!” as if to articulate his point, he throws a few jabs in the air for good measure.

           You laugh at his motions, the noise light, sparking – like the way the sun glints off water, and Bakugou can feel his stomach churn unpleasantly with nerves when he realises there’s only 3 people in front of him before he can get to speak to you. He already knows what he will ask you, and he’s rehearsing the way he’ll say it to you over and over in his mind. He hates that he’s reduced to such a pathetic, fumbling mess because of you, but... fuck. Just hearing your voice in person, hearing your laugh, his heart is thundering in his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! He wants to storm out, to show some fucking assertion and control. To make a point that he doesn’t care about your stupid game of 20 question, and he’s not in the least bit fazed by your presence.

           When he hears your shining laughter, he’s back to internally practicing his question, all previous thoughts thrown to the wind.

           “If you’re talking about Incipient, Flashover, and Decay…?” you query, quirking a brow for an answer, and Sero nods quickly. “Then... they’re originally just stages of fire development and behaviour. Each name represents the way in which my fire acts. Incipient is the beginning sparks of a new flame that burn brightly upon impact, Flashover is when they entirely engulf, and Decay is... well... when everything the fire touches turns to ash...”

           Next up is the boy behind Sero, one with a quirk that has manifested his entire head into a dark bird-like shape. He looks serious, and his tone matches his expression.

           “(Hero name),” he bows his head, before continuing, “It’s an honor to meet you. My name is Fumikage Tokoyami I would like to ask you; when you are afraid, what’s one thing you do to make yourself feel brave?”

           “Oh, wow,” you breathe. “Great question!”

           He smiles sheepishly at you, and you fold your arms.

           “When I’m afraid, it’s normally because I think I’m going to lose something precious to me,” you begin. “I’m never afraid that I’ll get hurt, but I’m afraid those I care about will suffer if I cannot do enough. If you’re afraid during battles, you’re more likely to make mistakes. You’re more likely to think illogically and irrationally, and make hectic, bad decisions. Therefore, when I feel myself becoming scared, I remember who I am. There are people who are counting on me to do my best, to help them, to save them, and I won’t let them down. Before I am a wife, before I am a citizen, or a friend or a mother – I am a hero. I live my life in the servitude of others. Whatever it takes, I won’t give up.”

           “Man, I wanna write that down,” you hear Kirishima breathe in awe.

           “Excellent advice, (Hero name)!” Ida adds.

           “That was so cool!” Uraraka squeaks, balling her fists. “Whatever it takes, I won’t give up! Ahh~!”

           You laugh at the whole class’ apparent overwhelming approval of your advice, eyes glancing over them as they turn into small groups and mimic your words, adding their own spin on it, but, despite the relaxed atmosphere, there is an uneasy sensation in your gut. The next person to ask their question is the boy whose entire right side is like a burning reminder of your past. It’s making you uneasy, and his eyes are staring you dead in the face. What is he going to ask? He could literally ask you anything and you’ll have to answer in front of this entire class – all your dark secrets, and twisted memories.
It could all be wrong, of course. The thoughts about this boy and who his lineage could be.

           But, then again, it could all be right.

           He opens his mouth, voice cutting through the multitude of conversations, and silence settles around him.

           “My name is Shouto--”

           “Todoroki,” you finish, smiling softly at him. “Right?”

           He doesn’t confirm, nor does he return your smile, but the way he sets his shoulders tells you everything you needed to know.

           This was who you thought it was.

           This was Enji’s kid.

           “I want to keep my question till after class,” he exhales, voice monotone, and says no more. He gains a few strange looks from his peers, but to be honest, you’re glad he’s chosen to ask you his question in private, away from listening ears.

           “Oh, okay,” you reply, “No problem.”

           He gives you a curt nod, and you find yourself reeling from the violent whiplash of his gesture. When he wanted to end conversations, his father used to do the exact same thing.

           “Next, we have...” you trail off, looking for a pair of eyes, only to find someone with what was clearly an invisibility quirk. How interesting. No part of her was visible.

           “Hi~!” she cheers happily, and somehow you find yourself rude, in that you cannot look her in the eyes when she talked, your own falling to the scowling boy behind her whose expression looks like he's about to faint from what appeared to be anger. “I’m Tooru Hagakure, and I really love you! Please can you tell us how All Might proposed?”

           It’s easy enough for you to recall – it was the happiest moment of your life.

           You describe for them in detail about the proposal – how All Might had been carrying the ring around for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to ask you. How, in the end, it was at your secret spot that the two of you frequented so often when you were teenagers. The glistening lights of the city spanned on for miles, twinkling like the thousand stars in the night sky above you, that bore witness as he got down on one knee, his eyes laden with adoration and love, his large hand finding yours. He had told you that from the moment he had first met you, he knew you were the one person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the one person who came before anyone else, and that he had loved you from the moment he saw you, and that he will continue to love you until the day he dies – and longer. The ring was a perfect fit; a single diamond, elegant white gold, and you continued on in a transcendent state of euphoric bliss, knowing that you had finally reached your dream, finally held in your hands what you had always wanted – Toshinori, and only Toshinori.

           “Wow,” Hagakure breathes.

           You hear Ashido groan, and sigh hopelessly. “Ah, (Hero Name), you’re so lucky! You married the love of your life!”

           “I want to find someone who loves me as much as All Might loves you!” Uraraka sighs, eyes gleaming.

           “You will,” you reassure, hand resting over Lo, “You definitely will.”

           The moment of truth has arrived, and time seems to slow for Bakugou as your eyes meet.

           Your face is relaxed, smile soft, hair tucked behind one ear, and your attention is solely his. You are the picture of glowing health and happiness – of a mother, and a wife, and yet, lurking below the surface is a relentless image that Bakugou focuses on more than anything else – you are omnipotent, invincible and you reign supreme. You are wild and formidable, and you have walked through countless raging hells with a smile. This is a golden opportunity, and he takes it as his one chance to show you he is on a higher playing field than the rest of these losers he has the misfortune of being banded together with. That he better than anyone here – than anyone in the entire school, and if you were to set your sights on anyone, you should set them on him.

           After all, you are the monarchy, right? The Queen of Fire; reigning with an undefeated King – your dynasty is succeeded by a Princess.

           But your family is not yet complete.

           Not without a darling Prince.

           “77,” you call, eyes holding his, an inside remark signalling your knowledge of both the boy and his impressive exam results – ones that surpassed even yours. Maybe that was a sign of the things to come? You hate to play favorites, but you’re already expecting great things from him.

           For Bakugou, it feels like he’s transcended space and time.

           You knew his entrance exam score.

           You had made a mental note to remember it.

           He was someone who you considered important enough to pay attention to.

           “The name’s Katsuki Bakugou,” his voice comes out loud, strong, but you knew all that already. He smirks, all wide and cocky, and it's very unsettling how his aura reminds you so much of yourself. His gaze is so defiant that you’re having a hard time not bowing under it and looking away. Just what is this kid capable of...?

           “I am not my husband. I am who I am, right?”

           There are a few strange noises that some members of the class release; all confusing and bewildered. To an outsider, it’s a strange sentence, and an odd question. But to you, it’s seismic, and it shatters your composure.

           All at once you realise he’s referring to your infamous ‘lost words’ -- the phrase lost to translation in the chaos of battle, and the sentence is one that you never chose to share. Yet, somehow, this boy knows the exact words you spoke to your defeated opponent when he berated and taunted you throughout your fight. This happened so long ago, but it was defining for you. A moment where you truly felt powerful because of yourself, and not because of who you were affiliated with.

           It’s unnerving and exhilarating all at once, and your skin feels like it’s on fire, sparked to life by ruby eyes and a cocky grin.

           You mirror his expression, exhaling a light scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

           “Yeah,” you nod, and he is elated, you can see it plain as day. “You’re... exactly right... that’s... how did you...?”

           He shrugs, biting the inside of his cheek hard to try and calm himself from his raging excitement. He manages to appear nonchalant, before asking cheekily, “Isn’t it our turn to ask the questions?”

           You have to try very hard to keep your smirk from erupting across your face, but you do a terrible job of hiding it. This Katsuki Bakugou seems thoroughly pleased with himself, and god dammit, you already find yourself taking a liking to him. More so than any other student here. Do you... already... have a favorite? You mentally scold yourself. You’re a teacher. No picking favorites!

           You’re incredibly grateful that the boy sitting behind the cocky kid is someone who you are already familiar with, and someone who already holds a dear place in your heart – your husbands' successor; Izuku Midoriya.

           “Hello,” you greet, warmly, and you think for a second that your eyes are deceiving you, when Bakugou’s expression deflates considerably “What’s your name?” you ask, as if you don’t already know.
Thankfully, the kid plays along, answering, “I-I’m Izuku Midoriya.”

           “Nice to meet you,” you joke, voice sly, and you notice an embarrassed smile curves his lips, face burning red. “What’s your question?”

           “U-uhm,” he begins, voice shaky. “H-how... are you?”

           “That’s your question?!” Kaminari asks, shocked.

           “Bro!”

           “No, wait, take it back quick, and ask something else--!”

           “It’s okay,” you laugh, holding a hand up to stop the frustration of the class. “It’s up to Midoriya to decide which question he wants to ask.”

           "I mean...” he clarifies, “How are you and...?

           You know who he is implying to, his eyes darting down to your stomach as if to make his point, and you smile warmly. You realise that he’s probably choosing to ask a simple question, because he’s going to be seeing you all the time. He is the next user of One For All, your husband’s chosen successor, and by extension, someone who already has a deep relationship with you – one that will only strengthen as times goes on. He can ask you whatever he wants, whenever he wants, but in order to keep up the appearance that he doesn’t know you at all, he’s chosen instead to ask a simple question. It’s smart, really.

           “We are very well, young Midoriya,” you murmur, mimicking All Might’s nickname for him, eyes shining when he gets the reference. “Thank you for asking.”

           He smiles happily, clasping his hands together in front of him on the desk, and, you notice, begins to write something down in a notebook. You make a mental note to ask him about it when you can, curiosity piqued.

           “Last, but certainly not least,” you turn to a girl with dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail, seated at the far back of the class. You eye her expectantly, and she seems well-prepared, straightening her shoulders, steeling her gaze.

           “Momo Yaoyorozu, ma’am!” she greets, and you stifle a laugh at the formal title. “I really admire you, and I would love to know about one important event that you feel defined you.”

           The question stirs something in you immediately, and you can hear yourself screaming from within a memory. Widespread destruction, flames, death. It’s aching to revisit, but it’s the answer to her question – it’s an event that entirely defined you.

           “My... awakening... I guess you could call it – when I unlocked my ultimate defence,” you answer, not really knowing another way to explain it, brows pulling into a frown at the shrieking of your own voice from the painful memory. “It... uh... happened a long time ago... and it was with All Might. We were in a really bad fight... but it felt more like a war. Our opponent was really strong, and...” how do you explain this...? You can’t openly tell them who he was – One For All was something these kids knew nothing about, and you want to keep it that way. You want to be honest, but sometimes a pretty lie is better than the horrific truth. “He was just unbelievably strong. Something the likes of All Might and myself had never seen before. And never since. He... almost killed me... and All Might had to keep saving me. I knew if I didn’t do something soon, my weakness would result in All Might...” you sigh, and the class is deathly quiet. “He would... be really hurt. I realised I was so weak. I couldn’t do anything to help him. I was... just a burden. Like I said, our opponent was really strong, and incredibly fast. He wanted to hurt me to get back at All Might, I guess. Long story short, my fire surrounded me and... I guess I was the fire. Nothing could touch me because I was made of flames. It meant All Might could go all out without worrying about me anymore.”

           The atmosphere is heavy and dark, and you try to lighten it with a shrug, and a quick smile.

           “That was a pretty defining moment!” you laugh, rubbing your arm. “And now I have an impenetrable defence.”

           The class can tell that you’re leaving out major details, but the look on your face keeps them silent about interrogating you for the whole truth, and you’re grateful. They all look gloomy, and you mentally slap yourself for not choosing another moment in your life that was slightly less depressing.

           “Don’t look so glum!” you chirp, reaching behind the desk to grab something.

           Their attention is focused on you as you pull out a bag of store-bought snacks, dropping it onto the desk with a thud. You laugh at the way their eyes snap towards the variety of chocolates, sweets, baked goods, candies, gummies, chips, soda, and other various snacks you think you would have devoured if you were 16 and completely at the mercy of your sweet-tooth.

           “I have some games for us to play,” you explain, “and I brought snacks for everyone to enjoy~”

           The atmosphere shifts instantly, and once again, the class are smiling towards you, cheering, talking excitedly, and beaming like bright orange sunflowers that open up towards a shining sun.