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To Be Worthy

Spider-Man, Captain Britain, and all associated characters, are property of Marvel. My Hero Academia and all related characters are property of Kohei Horikoshi

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"Do I really have to be here, Gran?" Izuku asked, staring out at the bustling office.

"I'm not leaving you alone in my apartment, if that's what you mean," Gran barked back. In any other situation, Izuku would take that to mean Gran didn't trust him not to mess with something. But Izuku knew that the truth was Gran was afraid to leave Izuku out of his sight. Before the internships started, Gran would tail Izuku to and back from U.A. To say nothing of the fact that Principle Nezu once confided that he had Izuku under near constant (and dubiously legal) video surveillance. All in an effort to keep Izuku safe from a most likely immortal madman.

…He might end up needing therapy. In the future, at least. Right now, he just needed to worry about surviving (and boy, would his hypothetical future therapist have a field day with him). And today, surviving meant waiting for Gran to finish a meeting with some old friend of his high up in the government. A friend that, at least partially, knew about All for One and how evil he was.

Thus, he sat out in the common area, copying his Hero notes onto his phone (his new phone. Toshinori had gotten him and his mom state of the art, high-speed, 'could dump it in a volcano and it'd be fine', phones). It was a new part of his note-taking process. Something Toshinori had been bugging him about since they'd first met. He understood the practicality of digitization, but call him old-fashioned, he liked keeping things on paper.

But it was either that or let his mind wander towards All for One.

He'd just finished typing up his notes on his teachers when something caught his attention. An old man was struggling to carry some boxes out of the elevator. And the only reason Izuku was able to tell that there even was an old man carrying boxes was because everyone in the office seemed part like the red sea for him, giving Izuku a clear view of him. Well, the boxes he was carrying.

Izuku frowned—that was just unnecessarily rude. The old man was clearly struggling. Needed help. But people avoided him like the plague. It reminded him of his childhood.

With a firm nod, put away his phone and notebook, rising to his feet. He smiled as he approached the old man. "Excuse me," he said, "do you need some help?"

"Huh?" the man replied. "Oh—well, if you can spare a couple hands."

"Alright," Izuku reached onto the stack, "I'll take the top five."

"Now hold on a minute—that's all but one!"

Izuku's lips thinned into a smirk as he easily lifted the boxes. "I've got it." Now, he could see the man's face—except for his eyes, which were hidden behind brown-tinted shades. He had a fairly squarish face, his thinning gray hair slicked back on his head, a thick, white mustache above his lips. He had deep laugh lines framing his mouth, which deepened as he smiled at Izuku.

"Wow," he chuckled, "you weren't kidding! Someone certainly eats his greens!"

Izuku's bent his head down, flushing at the compliment, "It's no problem, Sir. Where can I put these?"

"Down at that table," the old man jerked his head forward. Izuku led the way, frowning at the people that just moved out of the way. A few of them stared back, but they look confused. As if they were wondering why Izuku would bother helping the old man.

…He was probably Quirkless. God, it really did remind Izuku of his childhood. He set the boxes down, grabbing the last one from the old man as he stretched his back. "Oof! Thanks, young man. Not as spry as I used to be."

Izuku chuckled, and said, "Like I said, it's no problem." The man moved closer, and something squirmed in Izuku's gut. He attributed it to the memories of his less-than stellar childhood (and the very pungent cologne the man wore).

"Say," the old man rubbed his chin, "you look kind of familiar." Izuku grimaced. "..Ha, I remember! You—"

"A-Ah!" Izuku held up his hands, "Can you…not? I don't like the attention."

"Ah, the perils of fame, huh?" The old man smirked, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Don't worry kid, my lips are sealed." He clicked his tongue, "Still, it's an impressive achievement you've got under your belt."

"I guess," Izuku said bashfully.

"So," the old man sat down, gesturing for Izuku to do the same, "what's a strapping young man like you doing in a stuffy place like this?"

Izuku sat down with a shrug. "Oh, you know…things." The old man's smirk told Izuku he didn't buy his lame excuse.

Thankfully, he didn't dwell on it. "Hope it's got nothing to do with the new rules the HPSC's been forcing down everyone's throats."

"New rules?" Izuku blinked.

"Oh," the man waved a hand. "A bunch of retaliation against this whole All Might debacle." He huffed, "Makes you wonder who's more at fault—the HPSC for not fixing these problems before now, or All Might for exploiting them."

"It's not All Might's fault," Izuku replied before he could help himself. The man arched a brow, and Izuku blushed. "I mean…he was just doing what he thought was right."

"He did break the law," the man countered.

"Sure but…" Izuku trailed off, voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned over. "Sometimes, the right thing isn't cut and dry, you know?" Granted, Izuku didn't know that before this whole mess started. But as he was, reluctantly, dragged into All for One's web, he could understand why so much work needed to be done in the shadows. In the shadows of shadows, in some cases.

The old man hummed, a thoughtful frown on his face. "So…you think it's okay to break the law if needed, sometimes?" He smirked, "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of 'Hero-in-training'?"

Izuku gulped but held firm. "I am. But even if I'm still learning, I know that sometimes…some things just have to be done, even if everyone tries to tell you what's right is 'wrong'."

The man stared at Izuku through his shades, lips curled into a frown. But his face eased into a wide smile soon enough. "Well said, young man! Not a lot of kids these days understand that, I think. Too much blind faith in authority and people with power." He raised his hands, gesturing wildly "In some ways, it's good that All Might's been stirring the pot. Shedding some light on what needs changing. Now, I'm something of a rabblerouser, so I'll always advocate a little chaos. But, and feel free to ignore this old man's ramblings, what do you think about all this talk of grand, sweeping reform across the country? Rooting out potential Vigilantes and other such things?"

Izuku scratched his neck, "Well, to be honest I don't really care for politics."

"Nor should you," the old man laughed.

"But…" Izuku looked down at his hands, "all I've ever wanted to do was help people. And I…I don't think the ability to do that should be limited in any capacity." He peeked back up at the old man. He tilted his head at Izuku, his shades gleaming in the light.

And then, his lips curved into a gentle smile. "Well said, young man. Well said." He rose to his feet, bracing his hands on his knees. "Well, I've been sitting around for long enough. I've got other things that need getting done."

"Oh!" Izuku rose as well, "Do you need any more help?"

"I'm fine," the man waved a hand. "You've indulged this old man long enough." He nodded at him, turning around. "Take care of yourself, young man."

"You too…" Izuku trailed off, realizing he never got the man's name. He wanted to ask, but he was surprisingly fast when he wasn't carrying boxes taller than he was. Izuku shrugged, returning to his notebook.

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Garaki hummed as he overlooked Dabi's latest medical results. He'd made leaps and bounds with regards to controlling his Quirk, especially considering he consistently rebuffed All for One's offers of a complimentary Quirk. Yet, he still burned himself whenever he got overly emotional. Garaki was no psychologist, so he couldn't hope to assist Dabi in figuring out how to reign in his temper…Maybe one of those newfound Vigilantes could assist him in that regard. Those sorts of busybodies just loved trying to 'fix' people.

He was torn from further musing when a familiar sound emanated from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, snorting as a hunched over old man hobbled through one of Kurogiri's portals.

"I hope you're happy," Garaki drawled, moving over to All for One's medical chair as his employer's transformed body shifted and churned, growing taller and wider, the top half of his head melting away—his garish shades falling to the ground—revealing his true, scarred visage. All for One's breathing was labored as he dragged himself forward. "Using the transformation Quirk was one thing." Garaki stepped aside as All for One sank into his chair, quickly sticking in the necessary needles hooked to various IV bags. "But then you had to add on that pheromone Quirk—don't know why you had to leave so early and spread it so far. You only needed to affect a single floor. Just because we have a back-up—which, need I remind you, is still not yet complete—doesn't mean you can expend energy on frivolous—"

"I felt him," All for One said when Garaki finally attached his mask.

Garaki paused, stepping back to stare at his, dare he say, friend. "Does that change anything?"

All for One was silent for a long moment. "…No. Not at all. If anything, this means we can proceed with the plan with full confidence."

"As you say," Garaki bowed, returning to the task of keeping All for One alive.

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A/N: The plot just keeps twisting and turning.