Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku ‘Deku’ Midoriya has been quirkless since the day he was born.obviously, this wasn’t an issue for a few years. When he was four, it became worrying. Five, it was concerning. Six? Devastating.

Izuku Midoriya is a nobody, a loser, a freak, a useless little thing, destined to die early or be a burden on society.

“He should just kill himself.” He’d hear a girl whisper.

Another would respond, “We have to go to school with that? Can’t they just send it to a different school?”

“His poor mother… Such a sweet lady. She didn’t deserve such a burden. Why hasn’t she just given him up?” Teachers would have hushed conversations, when they thought he wasn’t listening.

Or maybe they just didn’t care.

For a long time, Izuku was sure he’d subvert those expectations, cut through that destiny. He thought he’d become a hero, become someone useful, looked up to. Izuku Midoriya would be a household name, beloved by the people.

Izuku would soon be hit with a harsh reality. Don’t misunderstand, he was right about… some of those things. A household name. Subverted expectations. Useful, to some, an idol, to others. But a hero, loved by the world?

Don’t kid yourself. After all, a deku is a wooden doll. What is there to love?

Izuku wraps a burn on his wrist in the school bathroom.

“Did it need to be on my wrist?” He grumbles, hissing when the bandage rubs uncomfortably. He was grabbed and shoved out of the way by… a classmate.

Not Kacchan. The Kacchan in Izuku’s mind wouldn’t do that. So he’ll settle for ‘a classmate,’ as if the blonde is some nameless, irrelevant mob.

Izuku can’t help but think that he’d be mad if he heard that. Probably spout something about how Izuku is nothing but a pathetic nobody, one who doesn’t get to brush him off. 

It hurts. It hurts like hell, honestly. Izuku, for a second, entertains the idea of telling someone. His mom, maybe? He can’t imagine anyone else would really care enough to help him.

He’d probably be reprimanded for causing fights or telling lies. He sighs. Can’t be skipping class for a small burn like this.

He makes his way through now empty halls. When he opens the door, he’s met with sneers and annoyance. His teacher seems the most annoyed out of everyone.

“Ah, Midoriya,” He says with audible distaste, “How… Nice, of you, to finally join us.”

Izuku goes and sits down. He pretends not to hear the muttered “Ugh…” that comes from his kind teacher as he passes.

He settles in his seat, choosing to scribble in his notebook instead of listening to the teacher speak. It’s not that he’s amazingly smart, or anything like that, and he probably should be paying attention, but…

Well, he’s having a bad day. Can you blame him?

Izuku hopes class will go by quickly. Easily. With no fuss, no excess attention on him…

But since when does a useless deku get anything it wants? At this rate, how dare he want for anything.

The room is loud with excitement when the teacher begins going on about their future careers, how many of them want to be heroes. Izuku tries to tune it out, a mantra in his head.

Stay quiet, stay small, stay invisible.  Don’t make a fuss, don’t do anything that isn’t fitting of a useless, quirkless little thing.

He catches bits and pieces. Something, something, Kacchan, something, UA, something…

“Midoriya, aren’t you looking to go to UA, too?”

Izuku feels his blood run cold. He can feel the room's silence, feel the eyes on him. His teacher looks at him expectantly. Daring, just daring him to do… anything. A betrayal of the highest order. His teachers have always clearly disliked him, ignoring him, brushing him off. Maybe reprimanding him, on the odd day he tries to speak up. But to call him out like this? Izuku feels like he’s been placed on stage, a spotlight shining down on him and his every breath amplified.

But clearly, the teacher is expecting an answer.

Anything at all. There's no right answer here. Don’t answer, he’s a troublemaker,  answer yes OR no, he’s snarky.

Izuku wants to cry. 

“...Yes, sir.” He mumbles quietly. Better to answer, he decides.

“Speak up.” Demands his teacher, impatient. “No one can hear you muttering like that.”

Izuku wishes he could scream.

“Yes, sir. I plan to go to UA, if I can.” He repeats louder. He shrinks in on himself slightly. Faint giggles can be heard in their early stages.

Izuku faintly hears a pencil snap. A glance shows him Kacchan with his head down, fists clenched, and a broken pencil on the ground.

As the class erupts into laughter, Izuku is only thinking one thing.

“I am so dead.”

Hah.

If only he knew.

“Deku!” Kacchan’s angry voice makes his ears ring. No, no… 

Izuku wants to brace himself. Wants to do… anything. But what can he do?

Fight back? Impossible. Scream? No one cares. Run? Hah. he’s not fast enough.

The first punch hurts. Izuku wasn’t ready for the hit, too busy thinking about it to see it. Typical of him.

The second feels like hell. It came too quickly to really register.

But by the third, he’s numb to it. He takes his hits. Bites his tongue, tears spilling from his eyes. They seem to get bored of his less than exciting reactions to their assault.

One grabs his notebook and tosses it to Kacchan. Izuku looks horrified and lunges.

“No!” He tries to grab it. His hand is slapped away. His knees hit the ground with a thud, and he’s sure his pants have ripped.

“What’s this?” Kacchan looks at the book with disdain and scoffs. “What kind of shitty stalker book is this, huhhh? Answer me, shitty Deku.”

Izuku’s hand is shaking. “Kacchan. Kacchan, please.” He pleads.

“Don’t call me that.” Kacchan snaps, glaring. “Don’t fucking call me that, you worthless deku!”

Izuku takes a sharp breath.

“...fuck this. You don't need this shit. You aren’t going to UA. you’re nothing. ” Kacchan sneers. He takes the book and… 

Izuku hears it before he registers the sight. Crackling.

“NO-!” He cries, reaching out. His eyes are wide. His face is pale.

The book is engulfed in an explosion. Izuku can see the pages curl and singe. Can smell burnt paper, see slight flames.

He can… he can salvage it, he tells himself. It's fine. It's fine, he’ll figure out how to save his writing. Carefully, softly, gently. He’ll copy what he can into a new notebook, one he’ll keep at home.

If he was thinking logically he wouldn’t care as much. That notebook is one of many. One he barely even got started on.  A book barely worth caring about.

But he’s not, so he holds out for it. He mutters about saving it.

Kacchan seems to want to crush any residual hope inside him, however.

He throws it out the window. Izuku rushes over, reaching out for it still. He watches as pages break out and scatter. 

Izuku makes a sound like an injured animal.

“You look pathetic.” One of Kacchans lackeys spits at him. Izuku is too busy staring out the window to react.

Kacchan scoffs, “Useless.” Izuku takes a breath, prepared for some spiel about how he’s a pathetic deku.

“Why don’t you just go take a swan dive off the roof, and wish for a quirk in your next life?” 

…what?

Izuku pauses. His heart feels like it's shattering. That's not what he expected. Not from Kacchan. From a lackey? Yeah, maybe. From a classmate, hell, from anyone… yeah, he would see it coming.

…from Kacchan?

Izuku hears them leaving. Disregarding him, leaving him while chatting about how they should go to the arcade, or a movie, like what just happened to Izuku was just a side quest on their fun afternoon.

Izuku stands up and takes a breath.

A quirk in his next life.

He doesn’t know if he’s moving or not until he’s at the lockers. He wonders what led him here. If he does hope for a quirk, and gets one, would anything really change? Or would he still be some useless thing.

A swan dive off the roof.

The stairs seem taller now, like it’s a higher climb. Or maybe the world is just moving slower now, every step he takes takes minutes in his mind, hours in his heart.

Pathetic.

He opens the door to the roof. 

He’s just so tired. So tired. He wonders if this is how life is supposed to go. Maybe he’s just weak, pathetic. Maybe none of this really matters.

He continues this way, until he’s on the roof of Aldera, standing at the edge.

Is this the easy way out? Maybe it is. But who could blame him? This was his destiny from the start, after all.

Weighing everything in his head, he stares down. His mother will miss him, he tries to reason. 

‘She’ll be better off’ his mind supplies. ‘No quirkless burden, no extra mouth to feed.’

His friends?

He doesn’t have any, so that's not really an issue. He kicks a shoe off.

His life.

Does he value his life? He really isn’t sure. Everyday he’s lived feels like a challenge. Something to overcome, not to live. He guesses it would be called surviving, not living, at this rate.

He kicks off the other shoe.

Maybe in some universe he was stronger. Maybe in some universe, he didn’t feel so alone. He had something to hold on to. Someone. Maybe he held on for just a little longer. Maybe he didn’t make it to the roof, a janitor found him and turned him around, forcing him to face another day.

Maybe Kacchan was nicer. Maybe he was better. Maybe, in some life, the world favours him.

In this one, though? 

Izuku steps up on the ledge.

He positions himself for a dive.

Chapter Text

Izuku really wishes he could tell you he didn’t feel it. That the fall was painless, and that everything that followed was just as swift. But Oh, he felt it. Every snap, every crack, every thud. 

The rocks that sliced his skin. 

The deafening sound of his head hitting the pavement.

But it was quick. Quick as could be. The initial fall felt like he was floating on air, nothing really feeling real. It hurt, too. Icy wind on his face, and he's quite sure he swallowed a bug.

Doesn’t matter now, though, does it?

No, what has Izuku quite perplexed is the fact that he’s standing. Standing up, and staring at his own mess of a body. He tries to nudge it… him? Himself? He doesn’t really know what to call… you know. He settles on it, but is quite apprehensive of that choice.

But anyway, he attempts to nudge it with his foot, but frowns as he just kind of sinks his foot into it.

He’s confused, for a moment. What's going on? He's standing. Is he dead? A ghost?

He looks at his hands. Slightly paler, and a bit translucent, aren’t they? They seem to flicker in and out of his sight as well, as if it’s a struggle to keep them visible. In fact, as soon as he starts to think about it too hard, he can't see them at all.

He tries to focus on bringing them back, feeling a bit proud when he does. An achievement, albeit a small one.

“...Deku?” Katsuki’s voice causes him to whip his head around. 

Izuku tries to speak but finds his throat is… odd. His words sound distorted. He falters.

“What the fuck? What the fuck? ” even Katsuki sounds weird. Scared. Horrified. As if something awful has just happened, something blood curdling, unnatural, horrific.

Izuku kind of likes it. But then he has to take a pause when Katsuki… runs past him. Grabs his body's wrist. “Call 119, you stupid fuckin extras, hurry up!” He snaps at his friends, who are all standing and staring, horror in their eyes clear.

Izuku is right offended. Brushing him off? Grabbing what's basically him without permission? How absolutely rude.

“U… uh, Bakugo, but he’s-” One of the lackeys starts. Izuku wants to scream thank you, honestly. Yeah. he's right here. Acknowledge him, for god's sake!

Katsuki sneers, “That's not him. Thats- I don’t fuckin’ know what that is, but- God, Deku, wake the fuck up!” He sounds desperate, talking to the body that Izuku is sure can’t be him.

Izuku takes even more offense to this. He tries to pick up a rock and toss it, but nothing he does really… works. He can hear, walk, and… sort of talk? He feels like he probably could, if he put enough effort into it. “Not him? Yeah I am!” he attempts.

Everyone else hears a wispy attempt of “N-t h–? Y— - –!”

Not his best work. He cringes.

It seems like everyone is staring at him. He wants to disappear.

As he thinks that… he does.

Izuku blinks as he looks down at nothing. Not anything at all, not his legs, hands, chest… nothing.

One of Katsuki’s lackeys screams. Izuku is shocked back into wanting to be real, and he’s visible again.

He’s relieved to hear ambulances arriving while the boy who screamed hits the floor; he’s fainted.

“...-- – —-?” Izuku tries to ask if he’s okay - nothing comes out. It's… probably for the best.

The ride in the ambulance is… awkward. His own body is sitting on a stretcher. It’s a bit… mangled. The emergency responders are staring at him as he sits to the side.

“...so, kid, let me get this straight… that's you? ” One asks, rubbing at his temple.

“...y-s.” Izuku’s words are still mangled, so he sighs and nods to get the point across properly.

The other one frowns, “...Well, the body is definitely dead. But… should we try and fix it up or something? God, what even… I need a drink.” She huffs. Izuku is quite sure she shouldn’t be saying that with him in the ambulance, but… well, whatever.

Katsuki is sitting pressed up against a corner, hugging his arms close to himself. Izuku would normally feel sympathetic; he witnessed a suicide attempt, he was upset. Logically, that's true, but…

Izuku is filled with disgust and disdain.

But… as he stares at his mangled body, he has a thought. He reaches out, ignoring the muffled “hey, kid, that's probably not-” from someone in the room. When he touches it, he feels the urge to just… push.

So he does. He pushes all of himself, his thoughts and his very being inside the corpse.

Izuku feels whole suddenly. He sits up, and feels right. He feels… 

He feels like this was a bad idea. Pain is the first thing he registers. Seething, red hot, violent pain, that fills his lungs and his head and every hole on his mangled body. He screams.

He wants to tear out his skin, claw out his lungs. He needs this pain out of him. He grasps at his hair, grabs at his wrists, clenches his teeth…

As he passes out, he sees Katsuki’s face.

Izuku wonders why he looks so afraid.

A high pitched beep… beep… beep… assaults Izuku’s ears as he wakes up.

There's doctors standing around him, arguing. Izuku vaguely registers wanting to leave, but being unable to sit up, his body locked down in this itchy bed.

Then… he does sit up. The doctors in the room stop talking.

“Sir, I’m, um…” The nurse hesitates, awkward. “I’ll have to ask you to return to your body-”

What? Return to his body? How silly, he-

Izuku turns to see his body still laying there, lidded eyes and a blank stair, and looks at his hands. He’s doing his weird ghost thing again, huh… Izuku tries to focus on returning back down. He, reluctantly, lays down to do it.

Once he can feel things again, he attempts to sit up WITHOUT leaving his… corpse? Body? Whatever, behind. The nurse quickly pushes his shoulder back down.

“Now don’t you try that, your injuries- young man, they’re horrible.” She scolds.

“Wh…” Izuku coughs. God, his throat hurts. “What? What are you ta… mm, ouch… talking about?” He manages the sentence with some struggle.

The four professionals in the room look awkwardly to each other, and then a voice Izuku didn't even realize was still here speaks up.

“You fuckin’ tried to kill yourself, you idiot Deku.” Katsuki accuses, looking angry and upset at the same time, like he doesn’t know what to do with his face. “You- why’d you go and try that, huh!?” He looks like he’s about to cry.

‘Good,’ a small voice in the back of Izuku’s head sneers. ‘Let him cry. He deserves it anyways.’

He instead frowns, “...why are you here?”

Katsuki looks shocked. “Wh-?! Why am I here?! You almost died, you fucking-!”

Izuku's frown deepens, “...since when did you care?”

The nurse seems to notice something’s up. She goes and places a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, speaking softly, “Bakugo? Why don’t you go grab a drink…” She says, soothingly. Izuku would roll his eyes if it didn’t hurt. Kacchan… Katsuki isn’t a baby. He can handle a few blunt words.

But alas, Katsuki seems to listen for the first time in his angry little life, and leaves. Izuku sits through the doctor's explanations.

Bits and pieces come through to him. Jump, dead, quirk …

Quirk?

Izuku sits up despite the strangled noise that leaves the nurse's throat.

“I have a quirk?”

And he grins, from ear to ear. A quirk.

As they explain how they think it works, he’s still grinning. A quirk, a-

“Your body won’t last much longer. I… I’m not sure how you’re still alive, but we believe you have until the end of the day in this body, at most, before blood flow stops.”

…what?

Izuku just stares, dumbfounded, “But- but I feel fine! Maybe not… not great, but fine!”

The doctor looks at him, a sad look on his face. Izuku thinks that's a sign not to argue.

He realizes, absentmindedly, they’re all looking at him like he’s already dead. Maybe they think his… quirk, or whatever, will stop once his body dies off, too. That his consciousness will fade with his body's activity.

“Get out.” He knows it's irrational. But he’s angry. He’s so angry. He’s nothing but a corpse to these people, isn’t he? He’s nothing. Just like he is to Katsuki, to Aldera. To all of them.

“Now, sir, your mother is on the way-”

“Get out!” He yells it this time. They seem to comply.

Izuku sits and thinks for a while. Nothing. He’s nothing.

He focuses and ditches his body once more, looking at it with… disdain.

Useless. This body, it’s been useless since he started in it.

He wills himself gone, and like earlier he can’t be seen. His mood lifts a bit. A quirk. Izuku has a quirk.

That lift sours as soon as he walks up to the door. He can hear his moms sobs, and a doctor's hushed voice. Organ donation, he hears them say.

No fucking way. They’ll let him die, see him as dead, just to take parts of him for other people?

Izuku scoffs. That's not happening. He’s never had one bit of control over his life. Not one.He wants to choose this, and his choice? No one gets to live just because he died.

He looks around the room and spots a teddy bear sitting on his bedside table, courtesy of the hospital. He hesitates, but tries the same thing he did to his body. He pushes himself into it. Fingers crossed…

It worked, but holy shit this feels weird. His whole self feels heavy. It takes him a second to get his footing as he stands. Teddy bear paws meet him when he holds up his hands. He fumbles towards a cart of medical supplies, struggling. It’s difficult, but he manages to grab a few things. A scalpel, some scissors…

He stares at his body. Outside the door, he hears ‘ Paperwork, your consent…’ and rolls his eyes.

He holds up the scissors the best he can with the stubs he has for hands, and just starts stabbing. His abdomen makes a squishy noise, and he can feel as the skin dents and then splits. He aims, trying to do as much damage as he can.

When he’s satisfied, he leaves the scissors lodged in his stomach, and discards the doll, standing on the bed now. He stares.

Slowly, he panics.

No, no… why did he do that? Is he dumb? What if he died!

…wait, why isn’t he dying?

He watches as his body struggles, blood pooling on his stomach. His projected self feels fine, though. Izuku comes to the realization… this body’s just a host, the same as that bear was.

He didn’t need it. It didn't need him. It was of no use to him now. Just a host.

He hesitates. And then he backs up. Towards the window, willing himself invisible. As he leans back to fall out, he hears a door click open.

He hears a woman scream.

If Izuku hadn’t acted so hastily, he might have heard a woman say no to the doctor's asks. He might have heard a boy tell the woman he was sorry, so sorry. Might have even seen a hug and tears in the boy's eyes if he thought to go out and look.

He might have heard her demand they do everything to save him, might have heard the boy sob to them that they needed to help.

Might have seen his favourite melon bread in the boy's hands, a drink unopened in the other, a pen and paper to write a letter stuffed in his bag.

He might have realized he wasn't nothing, that these people saw him as just that. Something. 

But he didn’t, and so instead tonight a woman sobs, mourning her son that never really died, and a boy stands frozen, tears in his eyes, thinking he’s just killed someone he, deep within him, loved.

Chapter Text

Izuku feels strange. Very strange. He’s wandering and observing. He needs a host. A permanent one would be nice, but… there's no way he’ll find anything so fast. He tries to possess someone living, but…

It didn’t go too well. He felt like a passenger. Which, he supposes he was, but… it felt gross. Wrong. He could move, make small gestures, but the person, the one who was meant to be there, could do so much more than him. He’s not sure they even really noticed. He made them drop the cup they had been holding, they swore, picked it up, and that was that. That was the stretch of his power there.

It wouldn’t do. He’d have to find a different form. He considers the mortuary, stealing a corpse, but quickly decides against it. He’s quite sure that the body wouldn’t last long, and people could recognize a loved one walking around alive, with a different voice, stance, demeanor… it wouldn’t work.

…that, and all the ones he found when he went to look were old, disfigured, or incredibly decomposed. The one he DID attempt to use broke a bit as soon as he tried to stand in it.

He’s a man of standards. Those standards include not walking around like a zombie. A ghost, sure, but a zombie? He’s not eating any brains!

So, he continues to wander, ending up in the aisles of a doll shop. Bit small for his tastes, but they won’t smell, and they’ll be easy to fix up if they fall apart on him. He searches through the shop in hopes of finding one he likes. …He doesn’t, really. 

That's when he spots his jackpot. An old rich guy, raving about how none of these are good enough for his gorgeous little princess. Izuku’s sure he’ll find better wherever this old geezer’s going, so he hitches a ride by tapping the man's ring and getting inside.

Izuku kind of regrets his earlier decision. Apparently the rich guy was an UBER rich guy, and his daughter isn’t really that LITTLE at all. She’s Izuku’s age, actually. He hopes he can just nab one of her fancy dolls and get out of here. He ditches the ring and searches through her room.

And, holy shit. Izuku had thought it was a little girl, but for a teenager? This is kind of creepy. There's… a lot of dolls. Like, a lot, a lot. He reaches out and chooses one for a minute, just to test the feeling.

It’s… weird. Really, really weird. He tries to take note of what he does and DOESN’T want in a host. 

Firstly, the joints. The teddy bear was all malleable, he could move and twist and bend at will. The porcelain doll he had settled in is much too stiff. He can't move his arms, apart from at the shoulders, and his legs are locked in the knees. His hands, too. He can’t open and close them.

So, no porcelain. That's fine, he could have figured that out himself - if he’s too fragile, he won’t be able to do, like… anything. 

The second issue he finds, once he switches to a plastic doll, is that he’s too top heavy. The joints are still an issue. He tries to stand, but tumbles backwards. 

Damn it. This is going to be way harder than he thought it would. He searches some more.

A couple just make him feel… wrong. 

He’s testing how he can walk in one, when he’s stopped by a loud gasp.

He turns his head. …ah, shit. 

A girl dressed in red, with wide eyes. Her hair is tied in a high ponytail, jet black. 

Izuku drops and goes limp, like that's going to help him. He knows it’s not, but, it’s an instinct! Toy Story, you know?

Izuku is sitting on the bed, visible but transparent, and out of the doll. He had to ditch the doll pretty quickly when she started threatening to call in her bodyguard - Izuku’s control over his own visibility isn’t exactly reliable enough to trust not being caught, even if he tries to stay invisible, and he had no idea if her breaking the doll would force him out or not.

He should test that, at some point. His body hitting the pavement had forced him out, but the foot falling off that corpse he tried out hadn’t. Maybe it's the severity, or the fact that it was already ‘broken’ when he had entered it?

…not the time. He looks up at the girl standing over him with hands on her hips.

“Talk.” She demands, glaring. “Now.”

“Just talk?” Izuku says. The snark just kind of falls out. He immediately feels bad, she hadn’t done anything, he WAS breaking into her room… “...sorry. That was rude. Uh, hi.”

She scoffs and raises an eyebrow. “Hi?”

“Yeah, hi.” Izuku would rub his neck if he could feel it. He makes the gesture anyway, despite not really having a neck there to rub. “Uh… I’m Izuku?”

“That’s not what I want to know, and you know it!” She hisses at him. “...Just Izuku? What’s your surname?” She says, after a pause. Curious by nature, apparently.

He pauses. She might not even believe him, he’s legally dead, or at least… he thinks he is.

“Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku.” He says, after taking a while.

“Midoriya… ah, you were that kid on the news.” She frowns, seeming to relax a bit. Then looks incredibly confused. “Aren’t you dead?”

Izuku ignores that second part, quite intrigued, “I was on the news? Cool!” He doesn’t really think about it.

“Uh…” She gives him a look. “Not really. It’s just about you… you know.”

“Oh. What, jumping off the roof?” He sighs, annoyed. Of course. His death is the only time he really got to be alive, in the eyes of the world.

“Huh? No!” She looks at him, with confusion. “You know, you're being stabbed to death in your hospital room?” 

“...oh.” Izuku goes still. …stabbed to death? THAT was on the news?

“Your mother has been trying to find out who did it for ages! No one really understands how someone got in there, no one was seen, and the camera view was obstructed-”

Izuku isn’t really listening. 

“How are you alive!?” She tries to grab his face and cringes when she can’t. “...ah. Maybe you’re not? Oh, jeez, am I going crazy from the stress of everything?”

“Uh, no, I’m- I’m definitely real! Alive… I’m not sure, but yeah, real.” Izuku quickly reassures. “But- uh, don’t… don’t tell anyone, okay? Can you… tell me more about what the police think happened in the hospital?”

“Um… yeah, okay…” The girl nods slightly. “They found you with a scalpel in your abdomen. You’d been stabbed… a lot. Uh, the police have been investigating the people they would have given your organs. Because of how violent it was, they think it was an attempt at preventing your organs from being harvested.”

Izuku snickers. They’re a little right… “Well, it kind of was. Um… but I did it myself, though.”

“What? No?” The girl looks confused as hell. So does Izuku, now. No?

“Um… yes? What do you mean, no?” Izuku scoffs. He knows how he died, thank you.

“The police report! Your body, you weren’t in the right position - it would have had to happen to you, your hands and everything…”

Oh. ohhh. Izuku points at the doll.

“The teddy bear in the room. I possessed it, just like I did with the doll.”

The girl looks mortified, but… curious. Oh, so curious. She sits down next to Izuku on the bed and sighs.

“...My name’s Yaoyorozo Momo. and you are going to tell me EVERYTHING, you got that?”

Izuku smiles.